#was gonna schedule this to post tomorrow but realized if it's up on ao3 it might as well be up here too

[eowynstwin]

Blackbird, Fly - Two

Cowboy Gaz x mail order bride—only, not his. After exchanging letters for half a year with ranching man Hans König, you finally travel out west to marry him. It becomes clear to you that something is bothering him—perhaps it has something to do with you. previous masterlist ao3 next

Kyle Garrick—who instructs you to call him Gaz, explaining it as a nickname—drives you out of town in a two-horse wagon. The countryside is dyed in pastels by the softening light of a just-setting sun, every bit as beautiful as Hans had written when he told you about it.

Like a painting, he said. Everywhere you look could be framed in gold. I wake up every day in this land and thank God I have the fortune to live in it.

Here now, as the wagon rattles down the wheel-carved trail, you understand his words. You feel that if you brushed your fingers against the sky overhead, towering with lavender-bottomed clouds as thick and soft as cotton on the stem, that they might come away smeared in blue and pink and violet. The surrounding landscape is a cornucopia of vibrant greens, rich browns of trees and soil, and clusters of orange, yellow, and white wildflowers.

You keep looking all around you to take it in, jostling your driver beside you, but Gaz seems not to mind. At least, he doesn’t say anything.

You’ve been trying not to feel so aware of his presence, but the endeavor is impossible. He is a solid weight beside you on the driver’s seat, exuding warmth where your shoulders brush against each other, and the earthy, masculine scent of him is inescapable. Every time his elbow or knee or thigh nudges yours during the natural sway and jostle of the wagon ride, you have to keep yourself from leaping out of your skin. Ever since you stepped foot off the train, you’ve felt like a lightning rod set out in anticipation of a storm.

You ascribe it to displaced longing for your husband-to-be. You’d spent the whole journey west imagining how you’d meet, longing for the moment he took you into his arms for the first time. Gaz is a handsome man—it’s only natural that your unfulfilled anticipation would transfer onto him. Especially considering he said you were perfect.

But then said very little after that. He’d seemed—well, not friendly, but at least amicable on the train platform, so you wonder if your manners have offended somehow. He’s spent most of the drive now with his eyes ahead, partly obscured by the brim of his hat. Occasionally he glances at the letters in your hand, but otherwise does not acknowledge you.

After one such glance, your discomfort with the silence becomes too much to bear.

“I read my favorites every night,” you tell him.

If Gaz is surprised when you break the silence, he doesn’t show it. “That so,” he murmurs.

All you have is his profile, very handsome in the light. The line of his mouth is taut.

“I know it’s silly,” you continue nervously—you have a bad habit of rambling when you’re uncomfortable. Adjusting your carpetbag in your lap, you go on, “but you must understand, this is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me. I never expected to marry, you see.”

He grunts.

“Much less to be a mail order bride,” you say. “I always thought I would be an old maid, for lack of available suitors if nothing else. Mama and Daddy thought I ought to learn to read and write, to improve my prospects, but most folks where I’m from don’t care much about all that.”

“I see,” replies Gaz. He still does not look at you.

“Sometimes I think it even made them like me less, like I was putting on airs, being smarter than them.” You realize immediately how arrogant you must sound. “Oh, but I don’t mean any offense! I don’t mean to suggest I have ideas above my station. It’s only just that, I wondered for years and years why no one offered for me, and it was the only thing I could think of. Why would a farmer’s daughter need to read and write? And why would a wife need to, if her duty is to tend to her children and her home? So that must be why no man has ever been very interested in me.”

You realize with horror that words are pouring out of you faster than you can keep up with them. And your driver’s attention has not shifted; his eyes remain on the road.

You look at your lap, face burning. “I’m sorry, I’m just annoying you, Mr. Garrick. I’m sorry.”

Shame grips you, tight and awkward. If you’d wanted to endear yourself to this cowboy at all, you’ve already failed.

But Gaz finally says, “Most men are idiots.” You look at him; he does not look at you. “I’ve only just met you, and I like you fine.”

He says it matter-of-factly, as if no more need saying on the subject. Simple and to the point; an economy of feeling you imagine must be characteristic of men in this part of the country.

Hans was like that too, in his letters. Communicating feeling without dancing around it, with a bluntness that ends up soft in its honesty.

It eases the tension frothing poisonous in your belly. “Thank you,” you say.

You ride in silence for a stretch. A cool breeze catches the free-floating ends of your hair, rustles along in the tall grass by the wayside. The steady thump thump thump of the horse’s hooves, and the creak of tackle and leather, are the only sounds populating the air.

Home was quiet like this, too; the fields stretching endless and green beneath the sky, the silence there so blank and open that birdcall traveled for miles, and the lowing of the family milk cow sounded sometimes like the trumpet of God.

You peek again at Kyle Garrick. There’s a furrow to his brow, the kind a man gets when he’s in a mood and won’t admit it if asked.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, quietly, because he made you feel better about things, and you’ve done little more than whine.

He finally looks at you, the edges of his face lined and glowing in the evening light. Studies you, for a moment. The furrow eases.

“No,” he says, “I’m sorry, Miss. I don’t mean to be short with you. I’m afraid manners are secondary on a ranch, without a good woman nearby to remind about ‘em.”

You give him a small smile. “Have you worked for Hans very long?”

He turns his gaze back to the road. “Six or seven years, now.”

You toy with the clasp of your bag; you’re brimming with questions. “Is he really all that tall?”

“Oh, yes,” Gaz says. “Like a giant.”

“What’s he like?”

Gaz gives a great breath through pursed, full lips. “Fair, I guess. Asks a lot of us—but then most bosses out here will. Worked for his father for a few years before him, too.”

“You must be a good hand then,” you say.

“I work hard,” says Gaz. “That’s all that matters.”

“I’m sure Hans is grateful,” you reply. “He must trust you very much, to send you for me.”

The furrow returns. “He must.”

It becomes clear to you that something is bothering him, and it’s nothing you will resolve between now and when you make it to the ranch. Perhaps it has something to do with you—a new face, an unknown quantity that threatens to knock the balance of his livelihood askew.

You sigh a little. Of course, you should have expected to have to win Hans’ people over. Their loyalty to the late Mrs. König will inevitably be challenged by your arrival.

Neither of you speak again—you decide not to push what little grace Kyle Garrick has given you, and he does not volunteer any more conversation. The rest of the ride is unremarkable, leaving room for anticipation to grow in your stomach; soon the wagon crests the slope of a hill, and your destination comes into view.

Long Mask Ranch sits at the base of a range of mountain foothills, fed and watered emerald green by spring runoff. You’ve been on Hans’ land for a while now; opening up before you is the ranch proper. A collection of buildings form a semicircle around a large corral in the valley: stables, a barn, some cabins, and a large two-story gabled manor, painted white.

The sun sinks further toward the horizon as you approach, painting the world in liquid orange. Figures resolve themselves, people moving tables and chairs around, and on the manor’s front porch, observing the proceedings, stands a tall man in a rancher’s coat and hat.

Lightning suddenly bolts through you. You sit very, very still as Gaz pulls the wagon through a cast iron archway adorned with LMR at the apogee. Your heart thrums in your throat like a picked guitar string. When you finally come to a stop, the man’s head turns to toward you.

At the worst possible moment, shyness grips you. You look around, at anywhere but him, at the house, the corral, the cowboy beside you.

You startle to meet Gaz’s eyes. The expression he wears is a mask of seriousness.

“This is it,” he says.

Your voice leaves your chest trembling. “Thank you, Mr. Garrick.”

“Just Gaz is fine, Miss.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” you reply. Propriety feels like the only solid thing to cling to just now.

He looks away. The line of his mouth tightens. “Of course,” he says.

He dismounts the wagon in one smooth motion, boots hitting the packed earth hard. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the tall man start his way over to you. Gaz rounds the back of the wagon, and you give your bag to him once he’s at your side. He offers his hand to help you down.

You’re dazed as you take it, lightheaded as suddenly the present moment becomes very, very real. It’s warm, his hand; rough in all the places you expect a cowboy’s hand to be. Yet there’s something soft in the way your palms meet, how the dips and contours align with each other and fit together. You’re shaking very hard as you ease your way from the seat, gripping him tightly until your feet meet the ground, and his grip circles yours with a solidness to it in a way unlike any man has ever held you.

You meet his eyes again when he hands you your bag. Gaz gives your hand a squeeze, averts his gaze, and lets you go.

“There she is!” an accented voice announces.

You pull your gaze from Kyle Garrick and the mystery of his tension with you, and turn to face your intended husband.

Hans König has loomed large in your imagination for half a year. He’d described to you what he looked like, of course, as best he could, but you find as you look upon his face that no written word can convey what it means to meet for the first time the man you will marry. You’d fallen in love with someone formless, absent, but inscribed in other ways with enough distinction to nurture your tender feelings.

Looking upon him now, though…his appearance offers nothing to that distinction. He’s neither ugly nor handsome. As he comes to stand before you, you think he rather looks like every other middle-aged man you’ve met in your short life, although certainly much taller. You meet his eyes—pale blue, as he’d related—and the rush of love you’d expected to feel, once you knew who he was, simply does not come.

This man is a stranger to you.

You reprimand yourself immediately. He isn’t a stranger. You’ve known him for six months. His face is simply not one you have attached any love to yet; the measure of his character is contained in the stack of paper in your hands. In the promises he made to you to make your quietest dreams come true.

So you smile the way you’d dreamed you would—like watching the sun crest the horizon after a long night of darkness, seeing the bounty of the near future coming toward you. Summoning joy by making room for it to exist.

“Hello, Hans,” you say, “it’s me.”

Hans König steps forward. He looms over you truly, now, eclipsing your vision. “It is you, indeed.”

Without another word, right there in front of Gaz, Hans grips your shoulders, bends down, and kisses you on the mouth.

Your brows shoot upward. It’s the first time anyone has ever kissed you. His lips are…hard, and motionless against yours. Almost perfunctory. You are so shocked he’s done it that you don’t think to respond, and then as suddenly as it happened, it’s over. He pulls away, pats your shoulders with a little smile, and then looks at Gaz.

“Get that wagon put away and then go help the others,” says Hans to the cowboy, slinging one arm around your shoulder.

Your brows lift further. Is that all he has to say to him, for delivering you safe and sound?

Gaz doesn’t seem to share your feelings. “Yes, sir,” is all he says, even and toneless.

But he looks between you and his employer for more than just the span of a heartbeat. Eyes going from him, to you, to the arm around your shoulders. Then he meets your gaze, expression stony.

If Gaz is wary of your presence here—if you’re going to win him over—the best time to start is now. “Thank you very much for seeing me here safely,” you say. “I was so glad of your company, Mr. Garrick.”

To your dismay, his expression only tightens. Gaz looks at Hans again, then back at you.

“You’re welcome, Miss,” he says.

Then he climbs back into the wagon, gives the reins a snap, and drives away.

-

a/n: fun fact, the ranch and neighboring town are based off Valentine and Emerald Ranch from rdr2 :) the ranch layout is more like Pronghorn Ranch however.

[getvalentined]

Realized that tomorrow is the date I set for myself to start finalizing the prompt list and making graphics for Sephesis Week 2025. Hard to believe it's been nine months since the last one!

To do:

Finalize prompts

Graphics needed: ○ Main prompt graphic x1 ○ Daily prompt graphics x7 ○ Week end graphic x1 ○ Event end graphic x1

Create new prompt tags

Reopen event page askbox

Posts needed: ○ Full prompt list x6 ○ Individual prompts x7 ○ 2025 tag directory x1

Update: ○ Event page icon ○ Directory ○ Event guidelines ○ AO3 collection(s) ○ Non-event fic rec list

Draw new event badges (maybe)

The new prompt list is scheduled to go live in mid-November; I want to participate in Strifesodos Week (October 7-13) and Vincent Valentine Week (October 13-20) to some degree, so I'm gonna try to have everything done before then.

If the graphic posted when Sephesis Week 2024 ended didn't make it clear, I'm trying to lean into the Ever Crisis look for 2025's event, so that's going to take some work over the next few weeks. At least the organizational stuff is already done from last year, so while my list of tasks may look a bit long, it's much simpler than what it took to get up and running before.

I'm pretty excited to get started!

[moreespressoformydepresso]

Heyy, it’s been a couple of days since I’ve posted, even longer since I’ve been consistent. I would say I’ve been busy but that would be a lie because I haven’t actually had less time than usual to post. Truth is some stuff’s gone down, partially on this very platform, and it’s made it very hard to post. If you don’t want to read a kind of venty angsty personal post the TL;DR is I’ll get back to posting semi-regularly once I’ve dealt with some stuff but I promise it has nothing to do with the people who interact with my blog. You’re the highlight of my day even if it’s “just” a like and I’m sorry for the recent dip in posts.

I don’t wanna go into detail because surprise! I don’t actually like going out of my way to create drama with people and one person involved has essentially harassed me on every platform we share. That’s why I haven’t spoken about this before, and I’m only saying this now because I realized I’ve forgotten to respond to several reblogs and I don’t want anyone to feel like I’m ignoring them or abandoning this blog or anything. Basically, I feel bad about leaving without explanation and also I kind of want to vent? So without getting too specific: A close friendship recently died a slow, torturous death over several months, slowly getting worse until the other person threw me in the trash like I meant nothing. Then he came back two weeks later and tried to guilt trip me for being upset at him for how he treated me.

In that two week period some stuff went down on Tumblr here and well… there’s no way to sugarcoat this, so I’ll be blunt: it’s made me terrified to post anything on here. Every time I want to post something I feel sick to my stomach with dread because what if it’ll happen again? Or, alternatively, what if I’m next? And it sucks because I’m not even 100% sure it was aimed at me, but it lines up a little too perfectly and maybe I’m paranoid and it’s all on me but maybe it’s not and if that’s the case… I’d rather be wrong, for once, but the problem is that there’s no way to know for certain. I’ve been stewing in this weird, complicated mishmash of emotions and confusion and I honestly have no idea how to deal with it. I thought time would help, as it usually does, but clearly this is a special case.

Before anyone says it, yes. I’m aware that this is a subtweet, which is not a cool or nice thing to do unless it’s a joke between friends. That’s another thing that made me not want to post this. I hate being mean to people who aren’t mean to me first, and as I said I have no solid proof from a trustworthy source without ulterior motives that this had anything to do with me (which is what I usually use as my standard for when to start hitting back) but I just can’t seem to let it go. Every time I have an AU I wanna share I get this creeping, uncomfortable, clawing feeling crawling underneath my skin and tightening in my chest and I hate it. I hate it so much I cannot even describe it properly.

It makes me wanna scrape my skin off with sandpaper and scrub myself clean from the inside out with an iron sponge. I wanna claw my heart out of my chest and shake it until it stops feeling like this and the only comfort here is that I’ve found some fancy new descriptions to use in my writing. Speaking of: I’ll post on AO3 again soon, hopefully today or tomorrow, but just like with my blog I’m so drained of energy and I feel so nauseous about posting I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it again, which sucks because I love posting on all these platforms! It shouldn’t feel like a chore but it does now and I don’t know if there’s anything that’ll ever make it fully go away. It’s become more manageable, hence why I’m posting this, so I’m clinging to the hope it’ll all ebb away at some point. Until then though my posting schedule is gonna be even more inconsistent than it usually is, so I’m very sorry about that. Hope you all have a wonderful day and I’m sorry about the venty post I’ve subjected you to 😅

[firetrucks-fastcars]

What do you think danny would do/say about max being a menace in the twitch chat? 👀🤭

Not gonna lie, this one got away from me. I set this in the quartet verse because that's where I talk about this dynamic the most so apologies if that doesn't fit your vibe

Feel free to send me more of these little blurb prompts, I really enjoy them

Cross posted on ao3 here (just in case reading long posts on tumblr annoys you)

______________________________________________________________

When Daniel returned home from running errands, the door to Max’s office was shut. That wasn’t an unusual sight, he usually liked to clock out the noise of the cats while he was sim racing or keep the other three boys out of sight when he was streaming with Redline. Daniel was almost positive he didn’t have a stream scheduled today, but he still knocked lightly, the secret code they’d established upon all of them transitioning to living together in Max and Daniel’s apartment.

There was a moment of silence from the other side of the door before Daniel heard Max call, “Come in.”

Max was sitting at his sim setup, the title screen for one of his racing games pulled up on the monitor in front of him but no game running. Instead he was on his phone, grinning at what looked like a twitch stream. 

“Hey Maxy,” Daniel stood behind him, squeezing his shoulders lightly and dropping a kiss to his head. “Whatcha doing?”

“I just wanted to drop into the boys stream for a minute,” Max explained, closing the app and locking his phone, placing it face down on the desk to turn in his chair and give Daniel his attention.

“Didn’t feel like streaming with them?”

“Not today. Lando and Charles will be home tomorrow, so I wanted to spend some time with just us tonight.”

“That sounds perfect baby,” Daniel pressed another kiss to his head and ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling where his headset had pushed it flat against his head. “I’m gonna go get started on dinner.”

“Okay. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Daniel padded into the kitchen and started pulling out the pre-portioned ingredients for their meal. He wasn’t much of a chef but he could follow the instructions written on the lid of the container. Max made his way into the main room while Daniel was sauteeing the vegetables and took a seat at the island. He immediately started up his stream of consciousness chatter, filling Daniel in on all that he had missed from Max’s day while he was out. Daniel always found it amusing that Max was usually so reserved but almost never shut up when it was just the two of them. He wasn’t even this talkative with Charles and Lando, though Daniel thought that had a bit to do with Lando having no filter and barely even shutting his mouth when he was asleep (Daniel loved him more than anything but he wondered how his jaw didn’t constantly hurt from moving so much).

Max was half-way through a story about Jimmy terrorizing Sassy, which was almost a daily occurrence, when his phone pinged with a message. When he saw that it was from Lando, he turned down the heat on the stove top and picked his phone up, still half listening to Max.

Muppet: look at what Max has been up to today (link)

Danny: realnamegucci?

Daniel furrowed his brows in confusion as he scrolled through the twitter (yes he refused to accept the rebrand) post Lando had sent him. It was a series of screenshots of increasingly unhinged comments in the chat of today’s Redline stream.

Muppet: crane accidentally on purpose exposed Max’s burner account

Danny: oh shit

Muppet: i think Maxy needs a spanking

Danny: is it your place to decide what Max needs

Muppet: no sir

Danny: good boy. now go to sleep it’s way too fucking late where you are

Muppet: yes danny

Muppet: but if you spank him at least video it for us

Danny: lando

Muppet: sorry

“Everything okay?”

Daniel looked up to see Max staring at him with his head tilted to the side like a confused puppy. He realized that he’d become completely absorbed in his conversation with Lando and stopped listening to what Max was saying to him.

“Sorry baby I got distracted. Just Lando being a menace.”

“So a normal Tuesday then?”

“Pretty much.”

“Anything important?”

“Nah, just a link to some twitter post he wanted me to see.”

“You know it is “X” now don’t you Daniel?”

“Fuck you, you know I don’t accept that shit.”

Max chuckled, then yelped as Daniel threw a wadded up paper towel at him, nearly falling off his stool in his attempt to dodge it. 

Daniel plated their meals and sat Max’s in front of him, then joined him at the bar. MAx waited until Daniel had taken the first bite before digging into his own food.

“Good boy,” Daniel praised, reaching over to squeeze Max’s knee gently.

He hadn’t asked Max to be submissive tonight, but he loved the way his boy fell back into their old dynamic when it was just the two of them. He loved Charles and Lando and their relationship wouldn’t be complete without the two of them, but he missed Max’s submissive side sometimes and found it to be a crime that they didn’t have nearly enough time during the season for Max to sub like he used to. 

They ate in comfortable silence, Max occasionally leaning in to bump his shoulder against Daniel’s. There was no pressure, since they hadn’t planned a scene, but he could tell Max was slipping slightly and seeking the contact for comfort. When their plates were cleared, Max stood up without being asked, taking both of their dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. He started the cycle, then pulled the cleaning spray from under the sink and gave the counters a quick wipe-down. He also filled both of their water bottles with fresh ice and water before standing in front of Daniel, waiting for further instructions.

“You’re being a good boy for me tonight Max. Is there something you want to talk to me about?”

At some point, Daniel had caught on to what Max was doing. He was owning up to the comments in the twitch chat without even knowing if Daniel knew about them. 

“I may have done something today,” Max said quietly. “Something I probably shouldn’t have.”

“Alright,” Daniel kept his voice even. “Let’s go sit on the couch and talk about it then.”

Max nodded and Daniel took his hand gently, leading him to the living room. Daniel sat on the end of the chaise part of their sectional sofa and dropped a decorative pillow to the floor at his feet. Max didn’t need to be instructed to kneel, he did so of his own accord. He flipped open the straw to his water bottle and pressed it gently to Max’s lips.

“Drink.”

Max took a few small sips then pulled away. Daniel sat the bottle by their feet and looked down at Max.

“Tell me what you need to tell me, Maxy. The floor is yours, I’m here to listen.”

“While you were gone I was watching the Redline stream. But I watched it on my other account because I didn’t want anyone to know I was there and then start overwhelming the chat trying to talk to me. And Crane and the guys were making jokes so I joined in. Then Crane sort of told everyone it was me. I’m sorry Danny.”

“What did you make jokes about Max?”

“Kinks and stuff,” Max mumbled, dropping his chin.

Daniel didn’t allow it, pressed his fingers under Max’s jaw to make him raise his head.

“Why tell me Max? I didn’t watch the stream, I never would have known.”

“Because those things are private. They’re for us and I know that everyone is taking it as a joke because that’s all it was really. But I don’t want you to think that I think this is a joke.”

He couldn’t help but smile at Max’s earnesty.

“I know you don’t think this is a joke Max. Thank you for being honest with me, I’m very proud of you. Now I’m going to be honest with you. Lando sent me a post that showed all of your comments. I’m not angry, I thought it was funny, just like everyone else. But I’ll ask you this since you felt the need to come clean. Do you think you deserve a punishment?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” “Because I disobeyed a rule. Technically, one of the rules is to be careful what I say so that none of us gets caught and no one gets suspicious.”

“That is true. So what do you think I should do about it?”

“Spanking?”

“You know, that was also Lando’s suggestion.”

That made Max smile a little bit.

“Tell me your words baby, then I’ll talk you through my plan.”

“Green is everything is good, yellow is slow down and talk it through, red is stop immediately.”

“Very good boy. Now, I’m thinking twenty spanks with my hand. Standard and easy.”

“Green,” Max said dutifully when Daniel took a pause.

“I also want to video it. Lando asked and I think it would be fun to use a recording of you being spanked on him when he’s being a brat.”

“Green.”

“Very good boy. Wait here.”

Daniel stood from the couch and maneuvered to set his phone up on the tv stand to record the scene. Once he’d artfully fashioned one of their lamps into a tripod, he pressed record and made his way to sit back down in front of Max. He brushed the younger’s shoulder once as a single that the scene had started, then made himself comfortable.

“Over my lap Max.”

Max positioned himself so that his hips were over Daniel’s thighs and his chest was propped on the sofa. Daniel tugged his sweats and underwear down just enough that his ass and the tops of his thighs were exposed.

“Twenty spanks. Count them for me.”

Max counted right on cue as Daniel littered his skin with sharp hits. It wasn’t the intensity that he would have chosen for a harsher punishment, he didn’t feel that a few dumb jokes on a livestream were deserving of something too painful, but it was definitely enough to sting and he could feel Max’s pale skin growing warm under his palm. When twenty hits were up, he gave Max a moment to breathe before righting his pants and pulling him to sit. 

“Let me go turn off the camera baby,” he said, tucking Max into the corner of the couch with his water bottle and a soft blanket draped over his lap. 

The punishment wasn’t intense enough that he felt Max was in danger of sub-drop, but aftercare was still an important part of their routine. When he returned, Max had drained half of his water and was sitting comfortably waiting for him.

“Feel better now,” Daniel asked, joining him under the blanket and pulling his head to rest on his shoulder.

“Yes. Though now I’m angry at Lando for ratting me out. I should spank him when he gets home tomorrow.”

“Unfortunately it’s not a punishment when they enjoy it.”

“Fair enough.”

“Come on, let’s go lay down. It’s our last night with as much room as we want.”

“As much as I like being able to breathe without getting hair in my nose, I really do miss Charles and Lando.”

“Yeah, me too.”

*****

“Honey, I’m home!”

Lando announced his presence upon arrival to the apartment.

“Bedroom!” Max called back, sushing Charles quietly when he stirred at the noise. As soon as he’d gotten home, Charles had dragged them to bed, not pausing to hear any protests. He’d sworn he was going to stay awake to wait for Lando, but that had gone out the window about five minutes after his head hit the pillow. So Max and Daniel had spent the better part of the morning snuggling Charles and waiting for their fourth partner to join them. 

Lando had already stripped himself of his outer layers by the time he reached them and stopped only to shimmy out of his sweats before joining them in only his underwear and a t-shirt. He wedged himself between Daniel and Max, laying mostly on top of the latter so he could prop his chin on his chest.

“Hi,” he smiled, flashing the gap between his teeth.

“Hello to you too,” Max greeted, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

Lando turned to kiss Daniel, then manipulated his body into the strangest shape Max had ever seen to kiss the top of Charles’s head before settling again. 

“So,” he grinned up at Max mischievously. “How was your spanking?”

“Lando,” Daniel, swatted his ass playfully. “Leave him alone.”

“Did you film it at least? We never get to see Max get put in his place,” he pouted. “You always pick on us.”

“That’s because you’re a brat,” Max said, pinching him lightly.

“Hey!”

“Both of you hush,” Daniel said. “You’re going to wake Charles.”

That put both of them to rest, knowing there would be hell to pay if Charles was woken before he was ready. It was silent for a few moments when Max leaned in to whisper in Lando’s ear.

“Don’t worry baby boy, Daniel recorded it. We’re just saving it for something special.”

Daniel groaned and tugged Lando back into his chest to put some separation between the two of them.

“Menaces, all of you.”

[shanie-the-toyaddict]

He Used To Be Mine - Part "This isn't going to make sense but whatever"

He Is Gone (But He Used To Be Mine)

Rating: T Characters: Kevin Owens, Sami Zayn Pairings: Kevin Owens/Sami Zayn Tags: Angst, Fluff with angst ending, Post Survivor Series: War Games, Past Relationship, Flashbacks, Tiny reference to sex but nothing NSFW Word Count: 3236

.....

Kevin has so many memories of Sami Zayn.

Memories of life, love, joy, and sadness. Twenty years of his life spent with Sami. With, against, alongside, however it was for them at the time. Sami was such a fixture in his life that if you had told Kevin just five years earlier that he'd ever reach a point where he was ready to say goodbye, he'd have called you a liar and then kicked your ass for even suggesting it.

But now, a short few days after getting his heart broken at Survivor Series, Kevin has reached that exact point. Far from "Nothing without you", Kevin has arrived at "Nothing with you" and he isn't looking back.

Well.

Maybe he's looking back a little.

......

This story is posted here as something of a teaser. The ending of this story isn't going to make much sense due to Parts 5 and 6 of the saga not being written/posted yet but I'm throwing it up on here in case anyone wants to read it in the meantime. It won't be going on AO3, not just yet. That context from 5 and 6 is far too important here.

Anyway, story under cut.

October 2017

“Oh god, help. Kevin, help.”

Sami was gripping his stomach. He’d eaten too much. They both had. An entire turkey feast, just for the two of them, in celebration of their renewed partnership. The turkey hadn’t been terribly huge, but factoring in the green beans, the stuffing, and the potatoes, it was far too much food for the two of them.

But then, the point of the meal had been to give thanks, so Kevin was willing to help make it. Still, even he had to admit it probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Why did we think this was a good idea, Kev,” Sami lamented, “You know, I’m trying to stop eating meat, why would you do this to me?”

Kevin let out a long breath. “One last hurrah? If you’re gonna go veggo, you should say goodbye right.”

“This was supposed to be a hello, Kevin, not a goodbye. A celebration, not us stuffing ourselves into oblivion.”

“Are you mad? You cooked most of it, wasn’t it good enough?”

Sami shook his head, “No, food was great, I just...”

A loud burp escaped Sami and he quickly covered his mouth.

“Nice,” Kevin remarked.

“Yeah, well we’re going to be miserable tomorrow. Just be glad we aren’t scheduled to be back on the road until the weekend, I need to sleep this off.”

Kevin let out another long sigh before getting up and starting to gather the dishes. “You know, Sami,” he said, “I didn’t tell you to have thirds on stuffing. That one was all you.”

“I can’t help it. If I’m going to be vegan, I need to get used to eating a lot of bread.”

“Like you need a reason to eat bread.”

“True.”

Sami pushed back his chair and got to his feet. Kevin moved beside him, reaching for the remains of the potatoes. Kevin didn’t know what made him look twice, maybe intuition, but as he glanced back at Sami, he realized Sami was wobbling a bit. Faster than Kevin knew he could move, he put the potatoes down and took Sami by the waist, holding him steady.

“You ok there, Sami?” he asked.

“Yeah, just... I’m not used to eating like this anymore. Maybe I should go home...”

“Maybe you should go upstairs and take a nap.”

“Maybe. I suppose I could, I mean...”

Sami’s voice trailed off and, suddenly, Kevin realized just how close they were. His hands were still on Sami, not quite in an embrace, but the closeness was undeniable. They’d only been friends again for two days and everything was new again. The way Sami looked at him, without resentment or fear. The way Sami would smile at him, and his eyes would shine.

But then, there was something always creeping around the edges of the fond gazes.

Anxiety. Nervousness.

Almost as if Sami didn’t want to believe it was real or, more likely, couldn’t believe he’d made the choice he did. Kevin would be lying if he didn’t have the same thoughts, doubt and disbelief weighing down his heart that somehow, through some impossibility, Sami had returned to him.

Forgiven him.

He didn’t deserve Sami, not by a long shot, but as Kevin stood as close as he was to Sami, close enough that Kevin could practically feel Sami’s breath on his skin, Kevin was silently praying that Sami didn’t regret his choice.

Somewhere in his brain, the tiniest thought was building. The thought of how easy it would be to lean forward and kiss Sami, right there in his dining room. Kiss him and claim him. Show his hand and his heart and make it clear to Sami how much he needed Sami, how much he loved and wanted Sami...

“Kev, you with me?”

Sami’s voice brought Kevin out of his thoughts and, quickly, he released his grip and stepped back.

“I’m ok,” he said quickly, “Go on. There’s a spare bed upstairs waiting for you. I can clean up.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want – ”

“Go to bed before you pass out on my table. I’m not dealing with you breaking my dishes. Or my table. Go, Go!”

Sami’s grin was broad and bright and he headed for the staircase. Kevin watched him go, his heart beaming at how happy Sami seemed.

Sami was partway up the stairs when his foot slipped.

“SAMI!” Kevin called out as Sami fell, sliding back down the staircase and landing in a pile at the bottom. Kevin was at his side in moments. “Sami, oh God, Sami are you ok? Please, are you...”

Kevin stopped.

Sami was... laughing?

What the...

He wasn’t just laughing, he was giggling.

“Sami what the fuck. Are you – did you hit your head?”

Sami just kept laughing and, taking Kevin’s hand, he pulled himself up. “I’m fine,” he said between giggles, “I’m ok, I promise. I’m just so, so...”

Kevin was still in disbelief as Sami leaned forward, placing a quick peck on his cheek.

“I’ve missed you, that’s all,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“You’re in my house,” Kevin replied, “I live here.”

Sami’s grin just got bigger. “Then I’m glad I’m here.”

Kevin’s mind began to stutter. There was no regret or hesitation in his voice. No doubt, no anxiety, no sign at all that he was questioning his decision.

Almost as if he’d finally found peace with his choice.

Still, Kevin had to ask.

“Are you happy, Sami?” he asked, his voice low and quiet. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be soaking in the adoration of the masses? I’m sure they’d take you back, maybe if you smacked me with a chair or something...”

“Kev,” Sami said, looking at him like he was being silly. “Trust me. There’s nowhere I’d rather be. I promise.”

A weight the size of a planet lifted off Kevin’s shoulders.

They really were back.

….

January 2018

“How many black hoodies do you own, Sami?”

Sami was sorting laundry in Kevin’s hallway. It wasn’t like Sami didn’t have his own washing machine but ever since they’d started dating, Sami had been spending as much time as he could at Kevin’s house. They weren’t living together, it was far too early for that, but Sami had brought enough of his things over from his house that he could spend the night whenever he wanted, even setting up a sajjāda so he could do his prayers.

Kevin had to admit it was nice, spending so much time with Sami. More than nice, it was everything he’d ever dreamed of, Sami with him, in his life, in his bed...

Kevin watched as Sami threw yet another black hoodie on the pile of darks.

“Seriously, Sami,” he said, “Do you wear anything else? I mean, ring gear is one thing, but you don’t have to wear the same thing every single day.”

Sami frowned, looking down at the woefully uneven piles of laundry. “What else am I supposed to wear?”

Kevin huffed, heading over to the piles. There was a small pile of lights sitting in the corner and, reaching down, he pulled a white and blue striped polo shirt from the top of it.

“You know,” Kevin said, “you used to love these things. Whatever happened to these?”

Sami shrugged. “I don’t know, I just outgrew them? They don’t look as good on me now? I have no idea; I just don’t wear them much anymore. Why, do you think I should?”

Kevin tossed the shirt back on the pile and stepped closer to his lover, wrapping his arms around Sami’s waist. “You don’t have to,” replied Kevin, “You can wear whatever you want. I just think you should vary it up a bit.”

“Yeah, but if I vary it too much, how will people know it’s me?”

Chuckling, Kevin replied, “Please, nobody would ever mistake you for anyone other than Sami Zayn. Or, maybe, Seth Rogan, but that can’t be helped.”

Kevin leaned forward, stealing a kiss and Sami smiled.

“Besides,” Kevin added, “You’d look good in anything. You’re fucking sexy, you could wear a burlap sack and I’d still want you.”

Sami ducked his head bashfully. “You just want whatever I’m wearing on your bedroom floor.”

“Damn right.”

Kevin kissed him again, on the cheek, and fuck, Kevin would never get bored with that. Kissing Sami was the best thing in the world, he could kiss Sami forever and never be sick of it. A million kisses, kissing him every day for the rest of their lives.

There was nothing better than kissing Sami.

Well, nothing except one thing...

“Get the laundry on,” Kevin told his lover, his voice turning low and sultry, “I have a great idea for a way to spend the afternoon.”

Sami bit his lip. “Mmmm, is it the same way you want to spend every afternoon?”

Kevin just grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Geez, Kev,” said Sami, “You’re going to kill me.”

“Not a chance.”

Kevin's hand traveled downward, and, with a quick squeeze, he let go of his lover and stepped back.

“I’ll see you when you’re done,” Kevin told him, his voice practically purring.

He watched as Sami’s tongue ran across his lips before, moving much faster than before, he returned to his sorting.

…..

April 2018

“Come on, not again,” Kevin grumbled.

Sami was patting the spot next to him on the white couch in the middle of Kevin’s living room.

“Please, Kev?” he begged, “Just one.”

“No!”

It was another night at home. Well, Kevin’s home.

They weren’t really living together.

They’d been together for four months by that point and even Kevin knew that would be moving way too fast. Not that they hadn’t taken their time getting together, but as far as dating went, they were still feeling things out. It was cozy, being with Sami, but frankly, the guy still got on his nerves...

… especially when he was doing something as dumb as trying to get him to watch yet another stupid food show.

“I don’t understand how you watch those things, Sami,” said Kevin, “It’s not like you could or would eat half that stuff. More than half, shit, ninety percent of the food on those stupid programs you wouldn’t go near, why the hell do you keep watching them?”

“It’s about the process, Kevin!” Sami insisted, his voice halfway to a whine. “Please, just... we just got our jobs back and we have to go back on the road full-time next week. Can’t you spend time with me? Please???”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “God, you sound pathetic. Which one is this anyway?”

“Triple D. I know you like this one, come on. Sit with me.”

Sami had a point. Kevin did like that one.

He shook his head. “Fine. Which one is it this week, and don’t tell me it’s another pizza episode, those just make me feel bad.”

“No, that was last week. This one has seafood. Here, sit.”

Sami patted the couch again.

“Ok, you win. Let me grab a drink.”

Sami grinned broadly, tapping his feet back and forth with a giggle.

Kevin didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Sami’s nonsense.

Actually, he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Sami period.

They’d spent so long trying to thrash each other, beat the shit out of each other, hell, Kevin had at one point been determined to end Sami’s career.

And there he was, spending his nights off in some form of domestic bliss with the only person he’d ever wanted to.

Ok, maybe not domestic bliss.

They still fought. They still argued and tried to kick each other’s asses and Kevin would be lying if he said he didn’t find Sami annoying on a regular basis. But he’d also be lying if he said he wasn’t happier than he’d ever been. Sami, finally his, however that had worked out.

It wasn’t perfect. But then they never would be. Best to take what he could and the rest would work itself out.

Kevin opened the fridge, looking for something cold to drink.

Water. La Croix. Tea. More La Croix. Iced coffee. Still more La Croix.

Kevin shook his head. “Sami, did you ignore the shopping list again this week?” he called into the other room.

“What’s that, Kev?” came the shouted reply.

Kevin hung his head before grabbing a bottle of water and heading into the living room.

“You know, Sami,” Kevin told him, “I’m gonna stop letting you get me groceries if you refuse to buy me drinks I like.”

Sami’s eyes went wide. “Wait, did I forget the Pepsi again?”

“Yeah, you did. You know, I texted you a list, it wouldn’t kill you to look at it.”

“Sorry,” Sami replied, “I’ll remember next time.”

“No, you won’t.”

“I will!”

“Bullshit. Last week we had to call AAA to get into your car because you somehow remembered to lock the doors but forgot totake the keys out of the ignition. Seriously, the one time you lock the damn car.”

“I’m trying, OK?” Sami protested. “Can we just watch the show? There’s this Bosnian diner on this week that I wanna see. They make this awesome Cevapi and...”

“Wait, did you already watch this?” Kevin asked sharply.

Sami froze. “Uhh...”

“You’ve already seen it and you’re watching it again.”

Sami’s eyes were pleading at that point. “Please? Yeah, I saw it, but I want to see it again. Besides, it isn’t about watching it again, it’s about watching it with you.”

Kevin’s heart did half a somersault in his chest at the way Sami was looking at him. His eyes soft, emotive, and full of love as if the television could be showing a documentary on paint drying and he’d still want to watch it with Kevin.

Kevin smiled.

“Ok,” Kevin said, moving to sit beside his lover, “But I get the remote.”

“It’s your house,” Sami said, handing it over, “I’m just glad you let me spend time here.”

“We’ve been dating for months, Sami, why wouldn’t I?”

“I guess.”

The was a moment of quiet between them before, leaning over, Sami smacked Kevin on the cheek with a loud, messy kiss. He pulled back a moment later, giggling and satisfied with himself. Kevin grumbled and wiped his cheek.

“Damn it, Sami, don’t steal my moves.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kevin lifted the remote, starting the stream. The opening advertisements sprung to life as Kevin put his arm around his lover. As he did, Sami leaned closer, snuggling close in a manner that couldn’t possibly have been comfortable but was unequivocally Sami Zayn.

Sami sighed against him, and Kevin pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Sami’s head. It was just a TV show, sure. And even Kevin had to admit Guy Fieri was entertaining. But really?

The company was the best part.

…....

December 2022

Memories.

So many memories.

The staircase, the laundry room, the kitchen, the living room couch.

A mantle of photos from countless adventures and excursions Kevin had taken with the only person he’d ever dreamed of sharing them with. Memories upon memories, all built in a house that had never quite lost its shine and was made infinitely cozier by the company and life shared in it.

A life with Sami Zayn.

A life that was over now.

And as Kevin looked around his now empty house, his heart was breaking.

No more washer and dryer. The fridge and couch were gone, taken to his new place.

The staircase was still there, but all it led to was more emptiness. Emptiness like the hole in Kevin Owens’ heart, torn open and ripped apart by the extraction of his better half.

Could you even call someone your better half if you were never married?

Kevin shook his head.

He’s not dead, he told himself. Stop thinking about him like he’s dead.

Kevin sighed looking around again at the barren room.

He might as well have been.

Sami had made his choice. And it wasn’t him. In the end, it would never be him.

He knew it wouldn’t be, Sami had always been better than him, he had always known he was loving on borrowed time. That the beat of his heart was being sustained by something unsustainable.

Destined to do this forever.

He should have known forever would eventually end.

Granted, it was his choice. Sami would want to fight him. Sami always wanted to fight him and, up until then, Kevin had been willing to indulge him.

No longer. Kevin was done.

He ran his fingers along the cream-painted wall. People always made comments about how ‘If walls could talk’.

Frankly, Kevin was glad those walls couldn’t. They probably wouldn’t have much nice to say. Nothing that wouldn’t gut him like a fish anyway.

True, he’d been planning on moving for some time. Florida had become a shitty place to live in recent years, between the weather and the politics. He’d wanted to leave for years, it was just a matter of finding the right place to go.

Not telling Sami, however, hadn’t been part of the plan. He’d always intended to, it just wasn’t the right time.

And three months earlier, when Sami had dared to suggest that they could hook up without strings attached, the way Sami had moaned his name but still couldn’t say, “I love you,” as if those words were offensive to him...

Kevin knew it would never be the right time.

He couldn’t even look at Sami after that. He had to escape, get the hell away from him. Hunter had been kind enough to let him take time off and it worked out great because it gave him a chance to do some packing. And now that the end had come, that he was leaving for the final time...

Leaving Sami. It was for the best.

Kevin walked through the kitchen, his fingers brushing against the black marble countertops, as if he could somehow bring back the past through lingering touches where they had once shared meals, shared their lives.

He closed his eyes tightly as the memories flooded back.

So many memories. If he could, he’d forget them. It would hurt less if he could just erase Sami from his life. Or, maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe if he had a way to erase Sami, it would make it worse.

Or just make it all go away. Kevin had once said he was nothing without Sami. Now he wanted nothing to do with him. Wherever life took him after that, it would be alone. No more friends, no more lovers, nobody who could break his heart and leave him behind in favor of some bullshit family who didn’t deserve their attention let alone their love. It was time to focus on the prize, the one he should have been focusing on all along.

Because if he couldn’t have Sami, he would settle on Roman’s titles as a consolation prize.

Kevin let out a long, shaking breath.

It really was time to leave.

Opening his eyes again, he walked through the kitchen, grabbing the keys as he passed by before heading through the garage door and locking it behind him.

And as he drove down the street away from his house the final time, he didn’t even offer Sami’s house a glance as he passed by.

[areweevercameraready]

snippet two :>

A/N: me: oh no, AO3 is getting DDoS'ed :( and i just finished a chapter of beliefs so I can post another chapter! damn me: me: wait i can post another human chapter

anyways, please stay off AO3 for the time being and here's a post with more information, but they're facing extreme server overloading and opening AO3 pages makes it harder apparently. i don't know, i'm a communicator, not a programmer, so i'm just passing along what i know.

anywho! here's another snippet of the human au i'd been writing. if you would like to read the first part, here is the first snippet, which also has some more background on the au. check here for descriptions of the human au.

this is likely to be the last of this big story i'll be posting. i might post some of the oneshots i have in this au, as i have a few that are sorta unrelated to the plot that i'm comfortable with posting, but...well. we'll see. i finished chapter 13 of more than beliefs so i've 1) begun writing chapter 14 finally and 2) might post chapter 11 soon :D not having anything to do with my life right now is good for catching up on sleep debt and writing fanfiction! yipee!

i hope you enjoy!

Words: 7,265

WARNINGS: having a panic attack and being sad, not much more i don't think but if there is, let me know and i'll make note of it!

(in lieu of a diving image, please take this human au meme LOL)

“So. Bartender. Your name’s Eric, right? That’s what Marl’ said.”

“Mhm,” Eric hummed. 

“Thanks for driving them home. Marlowe would’ve flipped tomorrow if he woke up and realized he’d left the car somewhere else. He’s gonna flip either way, though, since the idiot teaches tomorrow morning,” David snickered a little, leaning against the car door in a casual manner. 

At the very least, the flippance was making it more evident that David wasn’t, like. Mad at him. Or something. Eric nodded again before remembering that David was now driving. “Uh. Yeah. Would have been a kinda problem.”

“Mm,” David hummed. After a few beats of silence, he added. “You got anything to do tomorrow?”

Tomorrow? Why was he asking? “I, uh, have work at four. At the bar. Other than that, no,” because truthfully, he was only scheduled five days a week at the restaurant.

He tried to get his shifts at the restaurant and his shifts at the bar to not line up, but five days a week at both jobs meant there wasn’t ever a chance of that happening. When he did need a full day off, though, for parent-teacher conferences especially now that Gavin was going to school, he managed to get the exact days precisely. Which was probably because he was so punctual and dependable. Which was what he tried to be. But sometimes, he worried that wouldn’t be enough, so he always clocked the days he’d need two months in advance. 

Tomorrow was just a lucky day though, to just have one job and not both. Often they stacked. Sometimes they didn’t. 

“Wanna meet up for lunch?” David’s proposition cut through Eric’s tangential thoughts. 

He turned to David again now, a slight frown on his lips, before asking, “For lunch?” as if he hadn’t heard properly. 

David nodded. “Yep. My treat, for bringing my boys home safe,” he shot Eric another grin. “Also you like, haven’t at all told me where the fuck to go. I’m assuming it’s closer to downtown but unless you just wanna keep driving in circles….”

Fuck. Eric looked out the window for real now, trying to figure out where they were. It was the highway going into town. “You’re going to want to take the Concord exit,” he said. 

“Okay,” David said. “But, yeah. Lunch.”

“Lunch,” Eric repeated, quickly averting his eyes back to the dashboard. “You and me and lunch?”

He didn’t really want to look directly at David, but just in case David like. Grabbed him. Or something. Eric wanted to see him in his peripheral. He saw David shrug. 

“I mean, yeah. You ever been to Lucy’s on Main? Such a great diner, I used to go with an old girlfriend every night almost,” David pulled off the exit. 

“Right. And then left at the, uh….fourth light.”

“Gotcha. Lunch. At Lucy’s on Main?” 

Lucy’s on Main wasn’t the fanciest place, but Eric had only been once, and that was for Gavin’s fourth birthday. He liked their theming, even though it wasn’t an actual children’s diner or anything, and Eric was never one to deny his brother when he asked for something achievable. 

If he could, he’d get Gavin the world. Snatch it right out of God’s hand

Going there with a stranger, though….if David wasn’t dating like, at least two other people, Eric would be worried this was a flirt attempt. And he wasn’t really in the mood to be romantic. He kinda wanted therapy first? And he hadn’t thought about romance in a while, not since his boyfriend in high school. Now he was an adult with responsibilities, he couldn’t just ditch school and smoke weed by the train station with Schmidt. 

This was just some guy being thankful, though, right? And he wasn’t doing anything tomorrow….and the idea of food, especially free food, was pretty enticing. A guaranteed meal would be nice. And at this point, he didn’t think this was going to be a trap. He knew Lucy’s on Main. He wasn’t...this was awkward, but it wasn’t like he was going to get mugged or anything.

The silence dragged, just a bit, and David sighed. “If you wanna say no, you can. I just know this’ probably way outta your ways, and you seem like you’re not gonna kill me and steal my car, so it’d be nice to hang out once and say thanks.” David sounded tired, too. 

Though that explanation was pretty straight forward. Eric nodded slowly in something like understanding. If David was worried Eric was going to be mugging him, and Eric was worried that David was going to be mugging him….well, he could just be saying this to get his guard down. Eric knew he consistently looked like his guard was up, more often willing to fight than he wasn’t, but maybe that was off-putting here. Maybe he was the scary one, here. 

Ah, the mom friend override. 

“No, I, uh. That’d be cool,” Eric said, then cleared his throat and continued. “Thanks for the offer. Would noon work?” 

“Yeah, sure,” David smiled as he took the turn onto Concord Avenue. “Meet you there?”

“Sure,” Eric said. “You can pull over anywhere on this block.”

He gestured out the window. His building was maybe two blocks down, but, well. He didn’t want to take this dude all the way to his apartment. 

Did he?

No, no he didn’t. Also, his days of one night stands were like, two years long gone. Eric wasn’t about to bring a whole adult (WITH TWO BOYFRIENDS, MIND YOU, AT LEAST TWO) to his tiny apartment at almost four in the morning with his kid brother sleeping in the same bedroom. Like, sure as fuck that wasn’t happening. Regardless of how pretty David looked in the moonlight. 

Yeah, he was tired as fuck if he was just going to start mentally waxing poetic about how pretty these boys were. Eric looked around at the car, out the window, then back at David. Who was watching him with a smile ever so slight, almost knowing, almost cocky. 

“What, you want a goodnight’s kiss too?” he joked. 

Eric snorted, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m just….” Confused. 

This was all so much, in one night. 

He had a hundred fuckin’ dollars in his pocket? 

And David’s boyfriend’s phone number? This dude just drove him home, too, for nothing, and was going to take him out to lunch tomorrow? 

“This’ a lot more social interaction in one day than I get most months,” Eric joked, almost confessed really, and shrugged. “It’s also four in the morning.”

“Huh, would you look at that,” David looked at the clock and pulled a face, as if he’d just noticed the time. 

Wouldn’t that be a riot? What the fuck was he doing awake, even? Eric snorted, hiding his eyes behind a hand as he laughed. “Stop no, it’s too-it’s too early for this,” he said between laughs as David began to chuckle a little himself. 

“Damn right. You head home, get to bed, and make sure you’re up at at LEAST noon!” David waved at Eric as he got out of the car, into the night air. 

It nipped at his nose, much colder than he thought it’d be. Granted, he thought he’d still be warm from the bar, too. Eric turned around, waving at David as he whipped a completely not-legal U-turn in the middle of the road, then headed back where he came. It looked like David was going to wait until Eric got into a building, which was kind of nice of him, but once Eric stood still and waved, he hit the reverse. Which was also fair. And also part of Eric’s plan. 

He didn’t exactly….Now okay, tomorrow morning this was all going to register as flirting. Eric was going to take off his shirts and lay down in his bed and watch Gavin sleep for maybe fifteen minutes before passing out himself out of just exhaustion while wearing his bartending slacks and without actually being beneath his pillows. He was going to not think about the implications behind the three men’s actions until tomorrow morning, while making breakfast, and he was going to be quiet enough in thought for Gavin to ask if he’d done something wrong while they were on their drive to school. 

“No, Gav, you’re fine. Peachy, actually, sweet pea,” Eric said, while he and Gavin waited at a stop light. 

Gavin was supposed to hold the motorcycle’s safety restraints while they drove, but more often than not he ended up holding Eric. He had his own safety jacket and belt buckles, which Eric installed as soon as he found out they were a thing. He’d gotten the bike before he’d gotten Gavin, and he wasn’t giving the bike away. 

“What’re you sad about?” the kid asked. 

The light was still red, so Eric leaned one arm back and gave Gavin one of their bike hugs. Positioning was always awful, but Gavin knew the drill, so he snuggled his helmeted head beneath Eric’s arm for a moment and hugged him tighter. 

Now, though, how to like. Explain this to the four year old.

“A friend asked to go to lunch together today,” was what Eric landed on.

Gavin gasped, excitement filling his voice in a way that almost made Eric feel bad. “A friend?! Yay!”

“Yeah, a friend. I’ve got those,” Eric joked. 

“Daddy’s got one friend,” Gavin said with his own snicker, and Eric laughed, too. 

“Daddy’s got more than one friend,” he said, and for a moment, thinking about the phone number written on the bill at home, he meant it. 

Gavin seemed happy with that explanation and with those jokes, and Eric was as happy as he’d let himself be. He dropped Gavin off and promised to pick him up later, told him to have a good day, that he loved him. 

Kid’s school got out at 1:38, which would be a fair reason to leave lunch, if it got like. Unbearably awkward. Which was a real possibility, if you asked Eric. Wasn’t last night awkward enough? This dude really saw Eric at his normal messiest states at four in the morning and decided that the best decision was to spend even more time with him. Granted, he was in his pajamas last night, and he seemed pretty out of it, too. It might be nice to have a real conversation outside of being ground into dust levels of tired.

Also, it wasn’t Eric’s worst, and he thought he’d held it together pretty well considering the outlandish circumstances. In nearly any other case, he would have gone running for the hills at the mention of having lunch alone together with a stranger, or even being handed a bill with a fucking phone number on it. He’d been hit on at the bar before; everyone likes the stoic type bartender, until he starts rejecting advances. Then he gets the drink thrown on him and slurs thrown his way, which like, really? The owner’s queer and they think it’s going to be okay to say slurs? Idiots. Eric knew it was a situation better than that kind of shit, but he didn’t know what made him say yes to these advances. Something about the genuine-ness of it all, maybe. 

And these like. Were definitely advances. There were no ifs, ands, or buts. He didn’t process it fully last night, but now that the lunch date was starring him in the face, he could see it for what it was: a date. 

Three people, though. That was three extra people to disappoint. And, if he really thought about it, Eric didn’t know if he could, like….handle that. On an emotional level but also on an anxiety level. 

Still, to not show up to lunch and flake would be rude, and he may be a coward but he was anything but rude. 

Eric took some time between dropping off Gavin and heading to the date to prepare. He had tried while putting his hair up, a looser ponytail rather than the pinned bun he had for either of his jobs. Usually, he’d’ve preferred to keep it down, but. Well. It got everywhere. It was kinda scraggly, probably 90% split ends. Good to have it out of the way.

He threw on a quick t-shirt, a pair of black jeans, and his regular leather jacket. If this was really just lunch, then it was a one and done kind of situation. Not much else for him to do, other than lay down and try to nap for an hour before heading out.

Lucy’s on Main was fairly crowded for lunch on a weekday, in Eric’s opinion. People were waiting outside when he got there. And he didn’t see David waiting amongst them, so he put his own name down for a table and went to go stand outside. There was a couple sitting on the bus stop bench, though. Smoking. It’d been a few years since he managed to kick his nicotine addiction, but he wasn’t exactly fond of the scent of smoke anymore, so after a moment of taking in the wind and hyping himself up to talk to a stranger, a whole ass stranger, he went back in. 

And that was when he heard a “YO! ERIC!”

Eric jumped, turning around towards the inside of the diner. Most of the tables were filled, and one had a guy with his arms up, waving him down. Literally. Waving him down.

“HEY!” David called out. 

Eric saw him crack a smile as he recognized him, as Eric waved back just a little. They were turning heads a bit. Just a bit. 

He told the host that he was with “that guy” and made his way over, sliding into the seat opposite David. And he tried to kind of avoid looking at him, because being yelled at across a public space was never something Eric was too fond of. As soon as he sat down, though, David waved in his face. 

“‘Sup, Harley,” David said. “Nice bike.”

“Thanks.” Eric looked up, briefly, then froze. And looked up again.

David’s hair was down, though it’d been brushed and was pinned back with a bobby pin or two. He was wearing a puffy varsity jacket and a t-shirt underneath, the varsity jacket covered in patches that seemed to be hand-sewn on. There was a pin, too, on the jacket’s collar, with the inclusive rainbow. Cute. His glasses were cute, too, framing his face in a way that made his smile look a bit wider as he also looked over eric.

He….Well. In last night’s dark, he hadn’t really caught what David actually looked like. He was smaller than Eric but they had similar styles almost. There was something comforting casual about David’s posture, though, and in the way he leaned back against the booth’s seat. 

Surrounded by hot men. Eric turned away as the waitress came over, hoping he wasn’t blushing as much as he thought he was, and ordered himself a plate of fries. Before she left, David interrupted.

“Nah, you can order more, dude. I’m paying,” he reached over and motioned towards the waitress. “Get a milkshake at least, Lucy’s shakes’re the fucking best.”

Now, Eric didn’t really want to be wasting someone else’s money, and the plate of fries was definitely more than he’d been planning on having today. But David was watching him. And Eric couldn’t really say no. Not when he was being watched like this. A burger did sound good, too, but….

God, he didn’t want to make David spend money on him. Eric stuffed his hands into his pockets slowly, playing with the edge of his phone’s case. “Can I, uh. Can I get a chocolate shake, too?” he asked. 

“M’kay,” the waitress said with a knowing smile. 

“And make his fries the bigger size! I’ll steal some,” David grinned at the waitress, who chuckled at his antics but wrote down the change. 

And then she left. 

Eric leaned back in the seat, and he didn’t really know what to feel. In a weird way, it was good that David just started to converse, then and there.

“Like I said, cool bike. What kind is it?” he said, as if he knew of it. 

“Uh,” oh, jeez, the bike. “It’s a 2005 Night Train.”

“Sheesh, a Night Train! And she’s still running? Do you do your own maintenance?” 

“I, uh. Yeah. Yeah, I do. Maintenance and modifications.”

And that got him talking. Which, like. Was hard. On standard, getting him to converse was hard. But then David mentioned his old bike, how he used to have a 2002 Softail Deuce, how he always found it hard to maintain. Well, ‘course it’s hard to maintain if you don’t keep checking on it, especially after not riding it for a bit. Eric installed the second seat and had to buy her new brakes, just in case and to help with smoother rides. 

He talked about how he kept his parts and mechanical tools in a case in his apartment. Usually he’d keep it stuffed under the coffee table, better than leaving it out in the garage. 

David said it was cool, that he knew enough to maintain the bike himself. Yeah, Eric just liked keeping up with it and making sure he knew enough about it. He didn’t know any mechanics in the area well enough to trust them to actually take care of it as well as he could. Plus, if anything went wrong, he’d know what the situation was. He liked knowing that. 

It was nice, to talk to someone about these things. Eric didn’t notice his tension easing up with David. It was almost natural.

David mentioned having a bike. What did he do with it? He had to get rid of it, he didn’t take good enough care of it. Sold it to someone before he moved out here. He’s originally from Michigan but relocated for work, since it’s better to be near a lot of galleries. Selling the bike helped pay for life after college. 

What did he work in? Art. He worked most in oils, something like a modern impressionist kind of painting. The big one was sculpting. He liked to chisel, but marble was kind of hard to come by. He’d gotten into wood carving, though, since the house was nearby a forest. He’d take down a tree somewhere on their property, replant a few saplings, then bring it in pieces into his workshop to carve. It was in the basement, but they’d set up a ventilation system well enough. He did like painting realism sometimes, as a hobby, though.

Eric didn’t know anything about art. He would love to see his works, one day. 

Well you could swing by. I don’t think anyone’d be home to mind. If you wanna hang out some more.

“Who’s home?” Eric asked then, almost confused. 

David blinked at him a few times, trying to process what was confusing, before realization entered his face and he snapped his fingers. “Shit, yeah. I’m supposed to….yeah. So, uh. Me and the boys wanted to get to know you more. ‘S why Princey and Marl’ were at your bar.”

“Oh.” What? Who the fuck are the boys? “Who’re the boys?”

“You’re gay, right? Just want to clear that up, ‘cause this is about to be so fuckin’ awkward if you’re straight.” David sipped his milkshake expectantly while Eric made a face, and before Eric even answered, David snickered. “Sorry, dumb question, you don’t need to be gay to like, get this. I dunno if anyone told you directly, but Phillip and Marlowe and I, and Cadence, and another dude you haven’t met named Draco, we’re all in a relationship. Poly, gay, all that. We’re all in a relationship.

“And like, we aren’t gonna reel you into a relationship with all of us. Cadence just said you were nice, so’d Marlowe and Phillip,” David put his hands up—Eric’s face must have been some kind of slack jawed, but he was more trying to decipher what David was saying than paying attention to himself. “We thought it’d be cool to meet you. Well. I thought it’d be cool. Like, as friends and stuff. And like, we move like a pack. I don’t wanna speak for the others on what they’re thinking, but I just wanted to make sure you knew like, this isn’t a date, not for me. But like, I dunno. You’ve got everyone’s interest now.

“So if you’re like, wondering why a bunch of randos’re meeting up with you out of nowhere, it’s because you seem cool and we all share one braincell that befriends people at the same time. We all wanna meet you. I dunno what everyone’s specific desires are past that, I just kinda wanna get to know you, but I think we could be friends. That’d be cool.” David leaned back, indicating the end of his explanation, and picked up his almost empty milkshake to sip from as Eric digested all of that new information.

“Oh. Okay,” Eric’s voice sounded hollow, even to himself. 

Was that like getting stalked? Was he just getting stalked now, but a frat house of gay dudes? Was that what was happening? He didn’t know. His ears were kind of ringing a little as he tried to process that. 

So he’d run into a gaggle of dudes who wanted to be his friend. All of them? They’d talked about him—of course they’d talked about him.

One of them was fucking famous? Eric didn’t know what being friends with a famous person was like, but he didn’t want cameras in his face all the time if that’s what it meant. 

Was he even good enough for that? Eric wouldn’t have considered himself friendship material for any regular person, not to mention multiple people at once, one of whom was famous.

He had a lot of concerns, off the bat. 

“It’s kinda a lot to explain. Mostly, we’re just gonna be annoying, since you seem cool and we wanna be friends. If that’s okay,” David said. “That okay?”

What would they want out of him? He didn’t have money. He barely had a personality, if you asked him. There wasn’t anything really to gain from being his friend. 

Why the fuck were these people interested in him? 

Eric barely heard him. He just. Starred. For a moment.

That was when Eric became acutely aware of where they were. Of who he was talking to. That this was...well, it was a casual conversation, but a proposition to come home. He had to—he checked his phone, it was 1:10, holy fuck. He had to pick up Gavin soon. Like, now even. He had to go. 

He had to go.

He just had to. 

“Okay. I,” what was he doing here, what did they want out of him? There was no way— “I need to go.”

David raised his eyebrows but said nothing of it. His smile faded. “Okay. Go ahead, I’m handling the bill,” his voice was a lot more gentle now, as if the fervor he’d spoken with earlier had been sapped out of his bones. 

Eric almost missed it. 

He’d been lulled into a false sense of security, out of talking about fucking motorcycles and art. He stood, one fast motion that is more abrupt than he should be, and turned down the hall. He could apologize. David seemed nice. So did Phillip. Marlowe. Cadence maybe even. It might be nice, to talk to some more people, to get to know them. 

Gavin had said earlier that he had a friend. He could stick his neck out there. Reach out to people. He had a phone number. He could turn around and talk to David right now. 

David had looked real sad when Eric left.

Instead, he walked down the hall and out the door. He tried his best to breathe evenly, because panic driving the bike was never smart, and in doing so he just. Swallowed. His feelings. 

Eric took a big gulp of air, actually, and grabbed his bike’s helmet. Already, he was just zoning out. He was going to go pick up Gavin! Then, he was gonna make sure the kid was doing his homework. And then he had a shift at the bar. 

What would they even say about Gavin? 

He revved the bike’s engine and pulled out of the parking lot without looking back. 

His brain was static empty by the time he pulled into the parking lot at Gavin’s school, a whole ten minutes early. He didn’t have to leave that fast. But he couldn’t just stay there. What would he do? Go back and talk to David? Face that kind of unknown? He...he couldn’t. He’d stormed out like something was wrong, and wouldn’t David be mad for that? He didn’t know him much anyways. He didn’t owe him anything, either. 

If only he could convince the guilt weighing in his stomach the same thing. 

When the school bell rang, Eric perked up, taking Gavin’s helmet out from where it gets hooked and clipped onto the back seat. He drummed his fingers against the top. 

His kid came bursting out from around the portables, running around to where Eric usually parked. Gavin threw his arms up in the air when he saw Eric, so Eric threw his arms up as well. He climbed off the bike and squatted down, holding his arms open enough for Gavin to launch himself into a hug. 

They did this just about every day and Eric didn’t see himself ever getting tired of it. Gavin snuggled his face against Eric’s shoulder and shouted “HI THIEF!”

“Hey, kiddo,” Eric said with a sigh. The nickname was a dour one, but it was hard to train Gavin out of it. He’d gotten upset about enough things, today, and he was waiting until they got home to do something about the rising panic he was literally just barely tamping down. 

He helped Gavin onto the motorcycle’s seat, strapping him in while he asked how school had gone. It was a Thursday. Gavin had math tests on Thursday, which he loved. They were doing fifty in a minute with addition, which the teacher said Gavin was really good at. Better than reading time, since he was bad at focusing. The teacher suggested he get Gavin checked for reading disorders or attention disorders. But Eric didn’t have the money for something like that. 

Still, it was nice hearing Gavin talk about how happy he was to finish the fifty. He was the first one done. “You’re such a smarty pants,” Eric joked, patting his hand on Gavin’s helmet once he got it strapped on. 

“Mm,” Gavin frowned at that one, then shrugged. “Not really. I just like the numbers.”

“You’re good at the numbers, too,” Eric reminded him as he sat himself back down, too. “What homework do you have tonight?”

“Wait wait, but I wanted to know,” Gavin grabbed Eric’s sides, balling his hands up around him. “How did lunch go?”

Lunch. 

Gavin was asking about. About how lunch went. Eric was really glad he wasn’t looking at him, because there’s no way he could have hidden how much his face fucking fell at the question. 

“It, uh. Went alright.” Eric put his own helmet on, not turning around to see Gavin. “I’ve got work tonight, so I’m going to cook dinner when we get home, and you’ve gotta do your homework. Okay?” 

He didn’t want to talk to his four year old brother, of all people, about that travesty of a date. It wasn’t even a date. It fucking felt like a date. 

He didn’t want to hang out with anyone. He didn’t even want to have to talk to any of them, not if they were going to all pile up on him and what if anyone ever started taking offense to him? He didn’t want to join their group. And he probably wasn’t even good enough for it. 

He didn’t want to think about how he’d walked out on David.

Shut the fuck up about it, Eric. You’ve gotta go for a bit of a drive. Then you get to panic about this.

“Okay,” Gavin’s voice was quiet, a little sad. Probably because Eric wasn’t answering his question. Usually Eric gave him an explanation before a nonanswer. But he didn’t need to. And Gavin wouldn’t understand. Eric could think of a thousand reasons why not to talk to Gavin about that. 

“It’s fine,” Eric said, as if he could comfort Gavin with that harsh statement. And he revved his engine before he could hear Gavin’s response, if any.

The drive was quick. Some kinda force must have been on Eric’s side because every light was coming up green. He parked the bike in his unit’s garage and Gavin hopped off fast, beating Eric to the door, and disappeared inside. 

Usually that was a surefire sign the kid was upset, but at the moment, Eric couldn’t really find it in himself to care. Nor fault him, really. Eric was on edge, was being pretty unreasonable. 

On the flip side, he had to make dinner. It was 2 p.m. and he had to be at work at 4, so he had to leave at 3:30, and he had to make sure Gavin was doing homework. A conversation like this could take hours. He didn’t have that kind of time. And he’d have to understand himself why this was all happening. Why he was doing this. What was so terrifying. 

Eric didn’t have the time nor the energy to confront that. So he wasn’t going to. 

Quietly, he trudged into the kitchen, jumping when the door to the bedroom slams closed. Gavin, most likely. He usually did his homework in the kitchen, but, well…

Eric slung his jacket over one of the kitchen chairs and went to work cooking. It was always a tossup, leaving Gavin home alone. He was a smart kid. Eric told him not to touch the stove or the oven or touch any of the knives on their stand, and Gavin had never done anything like that. Eric also would punch in his phone number on the landline phone and colored in the “call” button with green sharpie. If anything happened, Gavin knew to just hit the green button. That’d call Eric, and he could always get home within ten minutes. If anything super bad happened, Gavin knew to hide in the closet. All of the neighbors on their floor had been asked, please, to call him if something happened to the building or his unit. 

That was the best he could do, really. He didn’t have the money nor knew anyone well enough to let them watch Gavin. Once, he tried to leave Gavin with the neighbors, but he’d somehow escaped their apartment and gone back to Eric’s. The kid was attached, the neighbor had explained. And Eric didn’t really want anyone watching him in their apartment, when he wouldn’t be there. 

Sometimes, the kid will do the dishes for him. Once, Eric was pretty sure Gavin cut his hand while trying to wash a knife, but Gavin said a bully got his arm caught on a door hinge in a fight. That was a specific enough lie that worried Eric that maybe both had happened. Poor kid had to deal with living with him, bullies on top of that?

He made pasta with some marinara sauce. It was a solid batch, and if Gavin didn’t finish it, then Eric would have some. He’d already eaten more than enough at lunch, though. And he was used to being hungry by now. 

He stared at the cooking pasta with a blank expression. 

Once dinner was ready, Eric checked the clock. Twenty minutes before he had to leave. Which was pretty standard for him, save for how he now had to go into the room where Gavin was hiding so he could change. He wasn’t about to go out in what he’d consider his nice clothes, to a bar where he could get thrown up on.

He stopped in front of the door. And took a breath. 

“Dinner’s ready whenever you want it, Gav,” Eric said, voice soft as he also knocked on the door. “Can I come in? I’ve gotta get changed to go to work.”

“Sure,” came the soft reply.

Eric braced himself internally, pursing his lips a bit as he pushed open the door and peeked in. Gavin was curled up in his bed, backpack and shoes kicked off on the ground besides it. The blanket was pulled over his head, probably curled up into a ball under the sheets. 

He could just throw off his clothes and change real fast. But Eric only got his shirt off before Gavin’s head popped out. 

“Did your lunch make you sad?” he asked. 

The question made Eric freeze. Part of him wanted to turn around, growl at the child to shut the fuck up and stop asking. It would be easier, to be cruel. But he could never...he didn’t want to be his parents, and when the kid was worried about him? That kind of idiot’d do that. 

“A little,” Eric responded, trying to swallow the guilt that arose when he was reminded of how sad David had looked, how his smile had disappeared in the instant Eric stood up. 

“Does Thief not have any more friends?” 

Eric put on a black t-shirt and started taking off his jeans. “My name isn’t Thief, baby,” he tried to keep his tone level.

Gavin wilted a little. He hated it when Eric reminded him, but Eric hated that name, and it was going to be better to train Gavin out of it now rather than later. “Sorry, Daddy. But did your friend make you sad?”

He sighed. Persistent fucking kid. 

Too good for Eric, always worried about him. Sometimes, Eric wondered if Gavin got that from him, too. Always just a little too worried for it to be healthy.

He heard Gavin flinch back into the sheets, so he turned back around. Gently, Eric scooped Gavin up, blankets and sheets and all, and kissed his forehead. “A little,” he answered. “He was a new friend. I don’t think he meant to make me sad.”

“Okay.” Gavin snuggled a little more into Eric’s arms, and he felt Gavin hold onto his shirt. “Did you make him sad?”

Heh. “A little. We were both a little sad,” Eric gave him a squeeze, rocking slowly. “It’s okay, though. Sometimes you make yourself sad. Sometimes other people get sad. Being sad is okay. It’s—”

“It’s about what you do after you’re sad,” Gavin finished. Probably excited he remembered it. Kid’s always been bad at focusing, anyway. 

It’s something Eric’s told him before, quite a few times. He wished he could hide his panic and depression and honest despair from Gavin, but in a two room apartment? He didn’t want to leave the kid alone in the apartment, too. As little as he could. Gavin had seen him panic and Eric had pulled himself together to stop Gavin from worrying too much. The three year old kid had too big of a heart in him for Eric to keep making him sad, too. And now he was four. 

“Yep, you’ve got it. Smart baby.” Eric lifted him as Gavin reached his arms up, giving him a tight hug around his neck and shoulders. 

Gavin’s arm went around his head at that weird angle, where it was the only place where his arms could feasibly wrap around. “Are you gonna make it better?”

“I’m gonna try.” 

That seemed to be good enough for Gavin, because he gave Eric a kiss on the forehead, too, and then made a motion to go down. So Eric set him back down on the bed, ruffled his hair, and went back to changing his pants. 

“I set up dinner on the table, it’s noodles.” He always tried to get the ones that looked like sea shells, because Gavin thought they were fun. “After dinner, you can leave your plate on the kitchen counter and do homework at the table. I’ll be back before bed time, okay?”

Shift was supposed to be shorter today; he’d be off at 9, and it wasn’t like it was that long of a walk.

“Okay!” Gavin waved his hands. “Have fun! I love you!”

Eric, clothes changed and keys in hand, waved back. “I love you too!” 

He closed the door to the apartment, locked it from the outside, and hurried down the stairs. “I’m gonna try,” he mumbled again, quiet to himself.

The phone number. 

Eric still had the bill in his other pants’ pocket. He never took it out. 

It’d been a while since he, like. Had friends. And had to socialize. 

David likely told all of them that Eric had just walked out on him. He didn’t know what they thought of him. 

But he had to try. Right? 

At the very least, Phillip had seemed nice. Phillip had seemed like he knew what Eric’s anxiety looked like. And maybe that’d be….

Eric could try. There wasn’t a harm in that. 

Work went smoothly, both works. No one went too crazy at the bar and Eric left when the next shift lead came, just in time to catch Gavin brushing his teeth before bed. He’d managed to tuck the kid in, clean the kitchen, and even managed to fall asleep at a reasonable time. When he woke up, he took Gavin to school, then immediately went to his second job. Things were going well and, when he dropped off Gavin, the kid had wished him good luck in calling his friend.

Eric held onto that until his lunch break at his other job. During lunch break, he went across the street to a coffee shop, ordered a dirty chai, and took his phone out. He’d taken a photo of the bill’s phone number, wasn’t about to wave a hundred dollar bill around in public, but the picture was good enough. 

Here goes...well. Nothing, really. Everything. And nothing. 

Just call the damn number.

His finger hit the call button before he could think any more about it, and he waited. 

It took two rings for Phillip to pick up. 

“Hello?” he asked. 

“Hi.” 

That was when Eric realized he had no fucking idea what he was going to say. What, was he calling to say sorry? This was Phillip’s number, not David’s. Did he want to hang out with Phillip? What do adults do when they quote hang out unquote. He didn’t want to do anything that’d involve money too much, he wasn’t able to pay for a dinner or something. Did he even want to meet up with him, in person? And he had so many questions about the arrangement, of the what, five men in a relationship thing. Did all of them want to talk to him? Why? 

“Oh, Eric. Hello! I ha-I hadn’t expected you to call,” Phillip laughed a little, a sound that eased the tension off his shoulders. “Are you...What did you want to ta-to talk about?”

His voice sounded light. That was good. He didn’t sound mad. 

“I, uh. I just wanted to….” 

There was a pause. So Eric just took another sip of his coffee and said, quickly, “Did you want to go to a museum? Or hang out or something?” 

A museum. 

Eric hadn’t been to a single museum in the whole fucking city. 

What the fuck was he thinking. 

Phillip must have either pitied him or was picking up what he was trying to suggest, because that was when he responded, “Oh! If you want to-to walk around and ta-talk, we could go to the-the university’s botanical gardens.” 

Botanical gardens? And walking around might be nice. Eric’s never been to the gardens. To be honest, he didn’t know they existed, and also didn’t go to the city’s university. It was a little farther away from the downtown and it wasn’t like he got an education past high school level anyway. 

He’d always wanted to go into mechanics, what with working on the bike and all. It just never worked out. 

Flowers seemed nice. 

“Sure! That, uh, I’ve never been but that sounds nice,” he said.

“They are qui-quite pleasant,” Phillip hummed quietly, then added. “If you don’t mind, would it be alright if I exte-ex-ex-if I invited Cadence as well?”

Cadence. Cadence, the famous one?

“Is he, uh….is he allowed to like….” Eric, frankly, had no idea what protocol was around famous people. “Sure?”

Phillip chuckled quietly, just quiet enough for the phone to pick it up, and said, “He’s definitely allowed to be in publi-public, if that’s your worry. Being famous doesn’t make it illegal to be in places. He’d wanted to see you again, but, well. Bars are cro-cro-crowded. If you want, I won’t.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Sure. I’d, uh. That’s cool.” 

Why did he sound like an awkward teen? Why did this sound like asking someone out to prom? Eric was going to lose his mind. 

Thankfully and graciously, Phillip seemed to understand his plight. David must have spread the word of him being an anxious mess because, to some extent, Phillip was planning this date for him.

Not a date. Just hanging out. Still weird for him, but markedly less weird.

“When’s the next weekday you’re free?” Phillip asked. 

It wasn’t that hard of a question. “Monday,” Eric responded.

He didn’t have either job. Well, that was a lie, but he was picking up another late shift at the bar. He didn’t have to be there until eleven. 

“Great. Monday at ten?” 

“Works for me,” Eric said. 

Phillip hummed in approval. 

Eric almost wanted to ask about David. If Phillip heard. Things had been going well, for the most part, until David explained the polycule situation. And something about that had just made Eric’s chest seize. 

That was so many people to disappoint. They’d discussed him. Eric never liked being the point of discussion, for any people. So the idea that this group of people who were all dating had talked about him to the point that the others wanted to meet him was surreal. 

Plus, he couldn’t help but be wary of the insinuation that they just wanted to be friends with him. Phillip was very regal, pretty and polished. Cadence was so fucking handsome it was unfair. David had been handsome as well, beautiful in a casual way. Eric was too fucking gay for this. He hadn’t seen Marlowe in much other than lowlight, and while the dude was drunk, but even then Eric could tell the dude was adorable. It was un-fucking-fair.

There was a….worry, deeper down. That while they might not want him in a romantic way, he’s just going to be a nervous gay wreck the whole time. 

“See you then, then, Eric,” Phillip’s voice held something of a smirk, and then he hung up. 

Eric lowered the phone, starred at the call screen for a moment or two before things began to click on his head. He was going to hang out with Phillip. And Cadence. 

They didn’t hate him. 

That was a good start.

[starzdeath]

Heya, sorry for the bit of silence during the week. Also, that last post with the art was scheduled to post so its been about a week for me since I've been on here. (Honestly forgot I even scheduled it in the first place)

Pretty much. I've been busy. Of course, everyone is always busy, but still. I've got a few things going on irl (nothing really negative, but just time consuming y'know) and I've also been caught up in moderating the Club Rouge Magazine. So I've got my hands pretty full. 😅

I assure you I haven't forgotten or abandoned anything, I would make a formal announcement if I was. I'm just prioritizing different things :p

So with that, I will also be going on a trip with my family for the entirety of next week, so I probably won't be online much then as well. But I'll work on things behind the scenes whenever I can.

I aim to have the last two chapters of Supernova posted before that trip. I hope I can post both tomorrow but no promises.

Gonna list things I'm working on roughly by priority and I'll also include completion status for anyone curious. I'm not including any irl stuff tho

1. Club Rouge Magazine

-Can't really state a completion status since it's a long-term ongoing event shrugs. I'm the social media and writing mod.

2. Supernova

-Since it was written for the big bang, it's completely finished. But ao3 gets funky so posting a single chapter can take a pretty long time and my executives sure are dysfunctioning. This is me now realizing that maybe I should post on other sites hmm. As stated earlier, the last two chapters shall be posted tomorrow! (Or the day after by the latest)

3. Art Fight/Mutals PFP

-Art Fight: Several sketches done. In the middle of lining a revenge piece :3

-Mutuals PFP: One out of two requests roughly sketched

4. The Chaos Project

-Issue 1 is partly outlined and I've written about the first four pages of the script

5. Sonic Fankid Showdown propaganda

-Oh I have plans

-Anyways, any propaganda I have is just in the rough sketch phase. I haven't really checked on the polls in a while but I'm rooting for all the kids! (What do you mean I have to pick?)

6. Everything else :D

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

The Ultimate (Fake) Boyfriend.

Hey all!! So!! I don't know how many people read my last thingy for that top-five ask game, but either way, while answering one I was reminded of an old WIP I had started writing last August, but faced horribly writer's block for, and is now sadly stuck in WIP hell.

Well, I have 3 full chapters written, as well as most of the fourth chapter. And while I don't want to post it to AO3 when I don't know if I'll ever finish it, I realized that I COULD post it here! So, that's what I'm gonna do. I'm going to post the first chapter now, and I'll try to post the next chapter tomorrow, so on until the fourth, half finished chapter. I don't know if I'll be able to keep this schedule, considering I'm sick and will prolly be working tomorrow regardless (I want to, I enjoy my job and am feeling better), but I'll try.

Please let me know if you like this story! I cannot guarantee this will ever be finished, but if people do like this story, it might help inspire me to write more. Again, no promises, but... maybe? Who knows.

Anyway, here is a quickly written summary. It's a bit weak and I'd definitely need to refine it should I post this to AO3, but it should give a basic idea of this fic:

Taka tells his first ever lie to his family. Unbeknownst to him, this simple lie has large (to him) consequences, and in order to calm his kyoudai down, Mondo offers to help him out. Unfortunately, this leads to them spending a week together at Taka’s maternal family reunion. This wouldn’t be so bad, except there’s one catch: they have to pretend to be in a loving, committed relationship to prevent Taka’s meddling Great Aunt from setting Taka up with her neighbor’s son. Will their friendship survive a week of pretending to date? Or will everything fall apart? Mondo has no clue, but as long as he’s with Taka, he’s willing to face anything life sends his way.

If it’s not clear from that, this is a fake dating AU, ha. 

Warning: This whole thing is about 15k words long, though a lot of that is me giving you a run down of the OC’s I created to be Taka’s family. And believe me, there are a LOT. That was part of what caused me writer’s block; there were just too many characters to keep track of, but if I eliminated some of them, some crucial plot points later on wouldn’t work. So... yeah. Oof. 

I hope y’all enjoy! I’m exhausted right now, so I’m not gonna write much more here. Let me know if you’re confused by anything! I can either fix it or explain it if it’s not clear. ^-^

 1 The Ultimate (Fake) Boyfriend. 

 Mondo looks up in surprise when he hears the doorbell to his room begin to ring incessantly, a confused frown rising on his lips. The textbook he’d been trying (and /failing/) to read lies forgotten in his lap as he checks the time, wondering who the fuck wants his attention so bad at fucking /midnight/, for Christ’s sake. Maybe if he ignores it, it will go away…?

 When the ringing (predictably) doesn’t stop, Mondo sighs heavily and stands, annoyance filling him as he lumbers over to the door. It’s a good thing he’s always been a night owl and hadn’t even been attempting sleep, or else he’d be even more pissed. As it stands, he’s still kind of pissed at the incessant ringing. Seriously, who the fuck rings the doorbell that many fucking times?!

 “Alright, alright, I’m fuckin’ comin’!” he growls as he approaches the door, loud enough to penetrate the thick wood. He sadly has only a second to appreciate the abrupt silence before he reaches the door, a scowl deep on his face as he opens it up angrily, glaring at whoever is on the other side. Who he can’t even see, given how fucking dark it is in the hallway, shit. “The fuck d’ya want, huh?!”

 Mondo doesn’t even have time for his eyes to adjust to the darkness outside his room when he is being shoved aside, the person outside his room suddenly /inside his room, what the fuck/-?!

 “Hey! What the goddamn fuck d’ya think yer doin’-?!” Mondo begins to exclaim, only to be abruptly stopped when the person turns to face him, hands imperiously planted on thin hips, a burning glare now harsh on his person. A burning glare he suddenly realizes he /recognizes/, shit. 

 “Language, kyoudai! We’ve talked about this!” his unexpected visitor exclaims loudly, looking very agitated. More agitated than usual, Mondo thinks privately, closing his door before they wake any of their classmates. While the dorms are thankfully soundproof, he knows for a fact that some of his dumbass classmates forget to fully close their doors at night. It’s a good thing they don’t have to worry about robbers or serial killers at Hope’s Peak, Jesus Christ…

 “Y’know,” Mondo begins, voice far calmer and less annoyed than it had been as his eyes take in the familiar form before him, “I don’t think that shit applies when someone barges inta yer room unannounced at fuckin’ midnight, kyoudai. Think I’m fuckin’ ‘entitled’ ta curse when that shit happens. The fuck ya even doin’ up this late, huh, Taka? Ain’t ya usu’ly asleep by now? ‘Cuz a’ yer schedule or somethin’?” 

 Mondo watches with critical eyes as Taka— his absolute best friend in this entire goddamn world, though they’re opposites in almost every regard— jolts in surprise, the imperious look on his face dropping off as shock replaces it. He frowns when Taka looks down at his watch, the teen’s eyes widening to the size of saucers as he notices the time. Ah… shit. Taka’s in one of /those/ kinda moods again. The kind where he doesn’t even notice the time, he’s so invested in whatever bullshit he’s working on. Great. Just fucking peachy. 

 With a sigh, Mondo heads over to his desk and grabs one of the energy drinks he left open earlier, knowing that he sure as hell ain’t getting any sleep now. Not when Taka’s like this. Like fuck would he leave his friend in such a state on his own, and it often takes hours to calm Taka down when he gets like this. Not that Mondo minds. He’s fairly certain he’d do absolutely anything for this fussy bastard…

 “Ah! Mondo, I am so sorry, I- I hadn’t noticed the time! I hope I didn’t wake you! I will let you get back to sleep and will come back at a more reasonable time of day, I assure you-“

 “Taka,” Mondo interrupts blandly, taking a sip of the vile liquid he regrettably has gotten used to over the years, “sit the fuck down an’ tell me what’s got ya in such a fuckin’ ‘tizzy’. Just don’t call me out on my goddamn /language/, shit. Too late ta bother with that shit.” 

 He can see Taka visibly hesitate at the order, his sense of propriety and responsibility warring with whatever caused him to get into this state in the first place. After a moment of debate, Taka hesitantly nods, striding to his bed and taking a stiff seat. Stifling a smile at the typical behavior, Mondo takes a much more leisurely and sprawling seat beside his friend, an eyebrow raised when Taka gives him a wide-eyed look. 

 “So? The fuck’s yer problem this time?” Mondo asks after a moment of silence passes, Taka staying uncharacteristically quiet. Usually when this sort of thing happens, the hall monitor is babbling away about whatever bullshit is bugging him that day, no filter at all, but today Taka is just staring at him, worrying his lip as he fucking /fidgets/. That, out of all of this, worries Mondo the most. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Taka /fidget/ before. The uptight hall monitor usually hates such ‘unscrupulous’ behavior, whatever that shit means. So, to see him doing it is very, very concerning. 

 “A-ah… p-perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered you about this after all, kyoudai… i-it truly isn’t anything important, it really can wait until morning! I- I should be going and allow you to sleep, it’s really nothing, I’m not even sure why I came over here, h-ha… d-do not worry about me, kyoudai, I’ll just be going and-“

 Mondo reaches out and grabs Taka wrist before the teen can fully stand, putting on his best ‘you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me’ face when he sees Taka look back down at him nervously. 

 “Taka. I’ve already drunk halfa’ this fuckin’ energy drink. Like hell am I gettin’ ta sleep now. So, sit yer pasty ass back down an’ tell me what the fuck is happenin’ ‘fore I fuckin’ punch ya, goddamn. Got it?” 

 Taka shuffles in place, his back bent awkwardly as he accommodates for Mondo’s firm grip on his wrist. His face is full of anxiety, which guts Mondo, though he tries to hide it. Christ, but he hates seeing his kyoudai like this… he’s tried his hardest this past year to get Taka to loosen up and stop being so obsessive about being perfect all the time, but even after all his effort, the hall monitor still suffers from such intense anxiety at times. Mondo hates it, but he has no idea how to get Taka to realize it’s okay to not try to be so perfect all the fucking time. That he’s allowed to fuck up and make mistakes. That no one expects him to be his absolute best all the time. That /Mondo/ doesn’t expect that. That Mondo doesn’t /want/ that. Not at all. 

 Before Mondo can say anything unbearably sappy and ruin his tough guy persona more than he already has, he hears Taka sigh, the teen sitting back down, though he has an intensely uncomfortable look on his face. Shit… the fuck is wrong with Taka to make him look so troubled…?

 “… you’d never hit me, kyoudai,” Taka mutters as he shifts on the bed, eyes staring absently at Mondo’s hand. Which— he realizes with a jolt— is still wrapped tightly around Taka’s wrist. Flushing, Mondo takes his hand back, raising it to rub his neck awkwardly like he always does when uncomfortable or uncertain about shit. 

 His eyes get pulled back to Taka when he hears the teen sigh, heart tugging at the intensely troubled look he finds on his kyoudai’s face. He’s seen plenty of troubled looks on Taka’s face over the past year, but this… this is among the worst he’s ever seen it. Taka looks five seconds away from bursting into tears— which honestly isn’t unusual with the hall monitor, as in tune as he is with his emotions, but… shit. Something about this time seems worse somehow. 

 It’s after another ten seconds have passed in uncomfortable silence— Mondo not sure what to say to make this shit better— that Taka finally begins to speak, looking up at him with tired eyes. 

 “I… I really don’t know where to even begin, kyoudai… I don’t even know why I came over. I had decided earlier today that I would handle this on my own, that I wouldn’t bother you with my stupidity. After all, this entire mess is my own fault and thus I should be the one to clean it up, not you! But… I- I do not know. I was just thinking about you and suddenly I found myself outside your door, not even realizing the time. You… you always know how to fix tricky situations, kyoudai… I envy that about you…” 

 Mondo decides then and there that he /despises/ the sad look Taka has on his face, suddenly determined to do whatever it takes to make it go away. Filled with this onslaught of determination, Mondo puts a steady hand on Taka’s shoulder, ignoring the startled jump the teen gives at the touch. 

 “Taka. I don’t care what the fuck it is ya did. Hell, ya coulda’ fuckin’ killed a dude fer all I care. I will always, fuckin’ /always/ be here ta help ya out. Now, where’s the goddamn body an’ where d’ya wanna hide it, huh?” 

 Like Mondo had expected, the sad looks get replaced by a stern one, the very familiar glare strangely comforting to see. As is the small smile that his best friend can’t fight, despite his clear best efforts to be serious. Ha. Take that, Taka’s anxiety. 

 “Mondo Owada, that is not funny! Abetting a murderer is a serious crime! Besides! If I were ever to do such a heinous act, for whatever inconceivable reason, I assure you that I would immediately turn myself over to the authorities without question! I would decidedly not attempt to hide it! Hiding such a criminal act is almost as bad as committing it, I assure you!” 

 Mondo can’t help it. He laughs loudly, grateful the rooms are soundproof so he won’t have to deal with a crabby Togami bitching at him in the morning. Seeing Taka’s lips twitch upward— though the hall monitor stubbornly tries to fight it— Mondo can’t help how he leans forward and pokes Taka’s cheek cheekily. Even the peeved scowl can’t stop the buoyancy filling his heart. Not when he can still see the smile trying to fight its way onto Taka’s lips. 

 “Oh yeah? If it ain’t funny, why the fuck ya smilin’?” Mondo taunts, snickering as Taka’s scowl intensifies. He doesn’t even fight it when Taka’s hand slaps his away in annoyance, too amused to mind the mild sting. ‘Sides. Ain’t like he’s not faced much worse. 

 “I-! That is entirely beside the point, Mondo! It’s still a crime!” Taka blusters, cheeks pink. But hey, at least that anxiety is no longer on his face. Thank /fuck/.

 Like the hall monitor heard his thoughts and is determined to prove him wrong, Mondo watches in dismay as the lightness that had momentarily entered his kyoudai’s expression fades, the anxiety returning with a vengeance. It hurts so fucking bad to see it and Mondo only just barely manages to suppress the desire to wrap his arms around Taka and take away each and every worry the teen has ever had. Barely. 

 Sighing unhappily, Taka looks away from Mondo, his hands fiddling with the uniform he’s still wearing. Even at fucking midnight. If Mondo didn’t know better, he’d think Taka even /sleeps/ in the goddamn thing. But no. Taka sleeps in the goddamn /nude/. A fact he definitely didn’t learn the hard way, thank you very much… 

 “Anyway. M-Mondo. You… er. You know that my mother’s side of the family is having a family gathering shortly after break begins, yes?” Taka states suddenly, pulling Mondo away from a /very/ inappropriate memory, shit. Blinking, Mondo tries to recall what the fuck Taka is talking about, only remembering as Taka gets an exasperated look on his face, his eyes lighting up as he remembers. 

 “Oh, yeah! That annual family reunion bullshit ya’ve been dreadin’ fer weeks, right?” Mondo questions, not thinking about his words. He winces at Taka’s unimpressed look, smiling sheepishly to show his apology at his thoughtless statement. Luckily, Taka decides not to lecture him (for once…) and just sighs, shaking his head in a way Mondo likes to think is fond. 

 “I’m not /dreading/ it, per se, just… well. There are some very… /interesting/ people on my mother’s side of the family and the gathering is often uncomfortable for me, that’s all,” Taka explains, before pausing again. With another sigh (at least the fifth or sixth he’s heard that night, which is honestly hella concerning considering how Taka rarely allows himself to show such ‘weakness,’ or whatever), Taka looks at the floor, hands wringing anxiously. “Well, anyway… y-you also know that I, um… that I /came out/ to my family earlier this year, yes?” 

 Mondo blinks at the question, feeling a simmering anger rise inside him. Not at Taka, fuck no! But just… at that entire fucking situation. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the pained and terrified look Taka got on his face after he’d told Mondo that he was gay a few days before winter break last year, tears streaming down his face as he insisted that he understood if Mondo hated and wanted to ‘punish’ him now. He’d held Taka the entire night, whispering softly that he’d never hate him, that he didn’t fucking care who the teen was and wasn’t attracted to, and that he would always, /always/ view Taka as his absolute best friend in this entire goddamn world, no matter what. He’d been massively embarrassed by it in the morning, remembering how soft and sappy he’d gotten, but he had never fully regretted it. Not with how light and happy Taka had looked for days after, like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. No… he definitely didn’t regret that at all. 

 Telling his family hadn’t gone quite as well, Taka had informed him softly when they arrived back at school in January, his da initially resistant to the idea. Thankfully, over time his da began to accept Taka fully, his ma wearing the man down. Taka had obviously forgiven the man immediately when he apologized, as much of a martyr as his kyoudai is. Mondo, on the other hand, doesn’t think he’ll ever forgive the man for making Taka think— for even one second— that there was something wrong with him for liking dudes over chicks. He never tells Taka that, though, as he knows it’s a sore subject with his kyoudai. 

 Still… if whatever’s got Taka in such a nervous state is related to him coming out… 

 “Shit. One a’ yer relatives ain’t makin’ a fuss over that shit, are they?! ‘Cuz if they are… shit! Tell me their names an’ addresses an’ I’ll make sure they don’t ever fuckin’ bother ya again, kyoudai! That’s a fuckin’ promise!” Mondo bursts out, his simmering anger flaring brightly inside of him at the thought of Taka getting harassed about his sexuality. He /hates/ shit like that, doubly so when it’s directed towards Taka. Mondo legit would have broken Togami’s nose for his derisive comment after Taka came out to the class a few weeks into the winter quarter, if Taka hadn’t regretfully stopped him before he could. He’d gotten an hour-long lecture about how violence solves nothing, and judging by the stern look that rises on Taka’s face, he has a feeling he’s about to have a similar lecture now… 

 “That is highly unnecessary, Mondo! As I’ve told you countless times, violence solves nothing! Besides, this is my family we are speaking of and I will not allow you to harm any of them!” Taka exclaims forcefully, his glare as intense as ever. Taka quickly calms himself— before Mondo can reply that he doesn’t fucking care if they’re family, not if they’re hurting his kyoudai— his shoulders loosening as he lets out a soft sigh. /Again/. “But no, Mondo. That… that’s not the problem. In fact, that’s kind of the /opposite/ of my problem!” 

 At Mondo’s baffled look, Taka sighs again (fuck, this must be so fucking bad… Mondo can feel his own anxiety spike at the thought), shaking his head ruefully. He even lets out a humorless chuckle, eyes holding a sort of wry humor inside them. 

 “Yes, I understand how baffling that sounds, but it’s true. I… have told you about my great aunt Hana, yes? How she and my mother are so close that she is pretty much an honorary grandmother to me?” Taka pauses, looking at him intently. At Mondo’s slow nod, Taka continues. “Well… out of my entire extended family, she is the one who accepted my orientation the most, according to mother. Apparently she has had dalliances with women in her past, though she eventually fell in love with my great uncle Akiro and settled down with him. She even identifies as bisexual now, after I helped teach her about the LGBTQIA+ community over the break!” 

 Mondo has to stifle his dopey grin at Taka’s prideful expression, the teen puffing his chest out with his pride. The look quickly fades back into anxiety, but Mondo still privately relishes having seen the look even for a second. 

 “Anyway… as you know, back before I came out, she was always very concerned about me, asking mother if I had found a girlfriend yet, if I’d begun thinking about dating and things like that. Many family members had, in fact, especially at our family gathering. When I came out, I had hoped that such a thing would stop and I wouldn’t have to deal with that again this year, naively thinking that now that they knew the truth, they’d stop bothering me over such nonsense. And yet…” 

 Taka trails off, biting his lip so harshly Mondo is afraid he’s going to split it. Not thinking, Mondo lifts his hand and gently pulls the abused flesh free, something he’s always done when Taka bites his lip too harshly. He doesn’t notice Taka’s flush, though, and just hums thoughtfully, nodding in sympathy. 

 “Ah, yer family’s still buggin’ ya over that shit then, huh? Shit, glad I don’t gotta worry ‘bout that kinda thing. Dai ain’t stupid enough ta ask ‘bout that shit, thank fuck, an’ he’s the only family I got. So, the problem is that yer afraid that they’re gonna harass ya over it, then? Fuck, man. Ya know my advice. A little punch ta the face clears that shit right up, promise ya that…”

 Mondo grins at the glare Taka gives him, not intimidated in the slightest. He doesn’t even flinch when Taka lightly slaps his chest, his grin growing wider at his kyoudai’s obvious annoyance. He knows it’s not real. Well… no, it is real, Taka’s so fucking emotive he could never fake anything, but he knows it’s not bad. 

 “Mondo! What did I just say about threatening violence to my family?!” Taka glares, forcing another loud bark of laughter from Mondo. Shaking his head— a small smile unsuccessfully masked on his face— Taka quickly continues. “/Anyway/. No, that’s not my problem. If it were, I wouldn’t be so worried! I’ve handled my family’s invasiveness before, after all, and I am positive I could handle it again, even if it makes me highly uncomfortable! So… /no/, that isn’t my problem.”

 Taka pauses again, his squirming getting worse by the second. It’s Mondo’s turn to let out a loud sigh as the silence mounts, gulping down the last of his energy drink and tossing the can to the side carelessly. Ignoring Taka’s indignant glare at the litter, Mondo rolls his eyes and leans back on his now free hands, eyebrow raised lazily as he gives his kyoudai a Look. He doesn’t notice how his thumb lightly brushes Taka’s hip, nor does he notice the bright flush rising on Taka’s face, not with how frustrated he is with Taka’s long winded storytelling. Fuck, he adores his kyoudai, he truly does, but the dude is absolutely shit at getting to the goddamn point sometimes…

 “Okay. Fine, got that. Not the fuckin’ ‘invasiveness.’ Then what the fuck /is/ yer problem, man? ‘Cuz I gotta say, much as I love talkin’ ta ya, it’s kinda late as shit, an’ I would like ta know what the problem is so we can fuckin’ /problem solve/, or whatever ya call it. Promise I won’t get mad at ya or anythin’, okay? Just… get ta the goddamn point…” 

 Taka’s glare intensifies, an indignant scoff escaping the usually poised hall monitor. Mondo forces down the rush of pleasure at the thought that he’s the only one to see Taka so laid back (which is barely laid back at all by any normal standards, but is entirely /indecent/ by Taka’s), instead focusing on listening as Taka starts talking again, his voice clipped and annoyed. Ha. Adorable. 

 “I was gettin’ there, kyoudai! You must learn to be patient!” Taka snaps, pout bright on his lips. Which is even more adorable, shit… “As I was saying! I… I… well. I don’t /like/ the invasive questions. I never have, and at first I thought it was because I am… y-you know… /gay/. And I just disliked that my family kept asking when I was going to get a /girl/friend. However…”

 Taka pauses again, but continues fast enough that Mondo doesn’t have to prompt him again. Thank fuck. 

 “However. Mother informed me yesterday that Great Aunt Hana had something she wished to speak with me about urgently and that I should call her as soon as I was able. Considering I had my final Public Morals Committee meeting of the quarter yesterday, not to mention that intensive study session with all of our classmates, I didn’t have time to call then. I vowed to call today, however, which I did as soon as I was able! Which was unfortunately just after dinner… aha.” 

 Mondo fights hard to not roll his eyes at Taka’s rambling, knowing that it’s just his kyoudai’s way of working through his nerves. Still… it can be annoying as fuck sometimes… he really fucking hopes Taka gets to the point soon. While he’s wide awake thanks to the energy drink, he has never been the kinda guy to just sit around and talk about shit. He’s more an action driven, hands on kinda guy, ya know? More punching, less talking. It’s a miracle he and Taka get along so well, honestly… he zones out a bit as Taka rambles about how sorry he’d been that he couldn’t call sooner, that he’d apologized ‘profusely’ when his aunt had answered the phone, how she’d forgiven him immediately, yadda yadda… he only tunes back into Taka’s rambling when it seems he’s finally getting to his goddamn point. 

 “-anyway, after a couple minutes of talking about school, she… well. She began talking to me about these neighbors of hers that recently moved in after the Mori family sold their rice fields last Autumn. At first, I didn’t see anything odd about the conversation, she’s always been the type to ramble about any random nonsense, not caring at all about how busy my schedule is. It’s why I rarely call her if I can help it, despite how rude it makes me,” Taka claims, hypocrite that he is. Ha. “But… after a few more minutes of this, she began to talk about the /son/ of her neighbors. Saying that he’s about my age, a year or so older and in his first year of university, and that he’s also going to be on break during that week. And then she… s-she mentioned that this /son/ happened to be, well… gay. And single.” 

 /That/ got Mondo’s attention. Sitting up straighter, Mondo looks intently at Taka, not caring that the scrutiny makes the hall monitor squirm. Just… just where the fuck is Taka going with this shit, that’s what he’d like to know… 

 “S-she then… well. She then began saying how much of a /catch/ he is, saying that he is very handsome and fit, and that he practices kendo routinely on his family’s side of the rice fields. Often shirtless. And since our family gathering always takes place at Great Aunt Hana’s farm, since she has the most space for all of us to stay, she… she said that she’s invited him and his family to join our family gathering! And that she wants to introduce us to see if we would ‘hit it off’ and possibly start dating!” 

 Taka yells the last part of his diatribe, his face red as a tomato and his eyes firmly planted on the ground. Mondo barely notices this, though, not with how tight his chest suddenly feels. Because… shit, Taka… Taka has a fucking date?! What the goddamn shit?! 

 “Wait, hold the fuck on! Ya got a fuckin’ /date/?! An’ ya didn’t fuckin’ /tell me/?! What the fuck, man?!” 

 Mondo can’t describe the feeling that bubbles through his body then, a tension overcoming him that he absolutely cannot decipher. Before he has any hope to try, Taka looks back up and glares bitterly at him, his teeth bared in his anger. 

 “No! I absolutely do /not/ have a date, no matter what my great aunt says! I did not agree to this meeting and I do not condone it in the slightest! You know that I am focusing on my studies at the moment, kyoudai, and that I do not have the time to deal with a /relationship/, let alone a long distance one! I may be gay, but that doesn’t mean I will jump at the chance to date just anyone! I thought you knew this, kyoudai, but I guess I was wrong!” 

 Mondo winces when he sees the hurt look on Taka’s face, frustrated tears rising in his scarlet eyes, making Mondo feel like shit. Ah, dammit… he hadn’t meant to hurt Taka… he’d just been so fucking shocked, honest. Not to mention… whatever that weird as fuck emotion that just flowed through him was… shit… 

 But he can’t have his kyoudai upset at him. He fucking /refuses/. Slowly, Mondo lifts his hands in surrender, a sheepish smile on his face. 

 “No, shit, I… I knew that, man. Just fuckin’ surprised me, s’all. But I get why yer so tense over this shit… damn, but that fuckin’ sucks. What did ya tell her, that ya weren’t gonna go through with it? Or did ya say nothin’ an’ decide ta power through it like the goddamn martyr ya are, despite how uncomfortable that shit makes ya? Shit… that’s it, ain’t it? Goddamnit, kyoudai…” 

 Taka’s glare is deeper now than before, the teen scoffing and crossing his arms angrily. Oops…

 “I will have you know that I did no such thing! I… I /did/ tell her that I was not interested, as politely as I could! I told her what I tell everyone; that I’m focused on school and that I don’t want to bother with dating someone, especially a stranger. But she… she wouldn’t let it go! She has always been a highly stubborn woman, something that clearly runs in our family, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer! But I… I didn’t want to do it, kyoudai! I’ve never been good at meeting new people, let alone potential /love interests/, and I’ve been so stressed over our final year at Hope’s Peak, and our upcoming midterm exams, and I just… I- I just… I didn’t want to have to deal with this! Not now, not when everything is so stressful! I- I just… I didn’t know what to do, kyoudai! I… I- I…”

 Mondo’s heart breaks when he sees the tears begin to stream down Taka’s face, the teen shaking with the intensity. The stifled sobs kill him more, and he doesn’t have to think before his arms are wrapping around his kyoudai, pulling him as close as humanly possible, his heart aching as Taka clings desperately to him. Goddamnit… he /hates/ seeing Taka like this… he’s always been an emotional person, crying over anything, good or bad. But even still, Mondo hates his tears… especially when they’re as forceful and painful as these… he’d do fucking anything to take his pain away… fucking anything…

 “Hey… hey, Kiyo, it’s okay,” Mondo mumbles softly, saying the name he reserves for the rare moments of softness between the two of them. It always makes Mondo uncomfortable to be so soft with anyone, even Taka, but like he said. He’d do anything to make him feel better… “It ain’t that bad, I promise! Yer amazin’ ta be around an’ any dude would be lucky ta have a catch like you. If this dude don’t immediately fall fer ya, then he’s a goddamn idiot who would never deserve someone as incredible as you. An’ anyway, just ‘cuz the two a’ ya meet don’t mean shit’s gotta happen. Ya can just say ya didn’t hit it off an’ be done with it. Okay, Kiyo? I promise, man. It’s gonna be okay. I /promise/.” 

 Taka sobs harder at his words, which distresses Mondo greatly. He stops talking then and focuses on soothing his emotional kyoudai, rocking him softly like Daiya used to do with him when he was little and needed to be calmed. He shushes Taka softly whenever his breath hitches, rubbing his back as soothingly as he can, his insides squirming at the weakness he’s showing, but he forces it down. It ain’t the fucking time to be worried about his goddamn /reputation/. Not when he’s got his precious as fuck kyoudai to soothe… 

 Finally, after a couple of minutes Taka begins to settle, his body mostly still against Mondo’s save for a couple of sniffles here and there. It makes Mondo’s insides settle to feel Taka relax like this, and while part of him hates himself for it, he can’t help how he kind of adores moments like these. The moments after Taka finishes crying and they’re just embracing each other tenderly like this. Yeah, they hug sometimes in other circumstances, but those are always quick, manly hugs. The kind that end with back slaps and wide grins. This… they don’t really do shit like this often. Holding one another, just listening to the other breathe. It’s… nice. So fucking nice. And he doesn’t even have to shove that thought away, not when he’s so busy ensuring that his kyoudai is okay…

 “Feelin’ better kyoudai?” he mutters after another minute, looking down at the form pressed tightly to his chest. His heart squeezes when he sees Taka look up at him, his red eyes so much more intense with how watery they are. Mondo’s breath stutters at the sight. Fuck… but damn if Taka isn’t beautiful like this… i-in a manly way, of course! Heh… 

 “I… somewhat, kyoudai… but I- I still haven’t said what my problem is…” Taka mumbles, sniffling once. Mondo just blinks at the response, shifting to hold Taka more comfortably against him. Shit… there’s more…? 

 Sighing softly yet again, Taka fucking /snuggles/ into his chest, humming as he draws random shapes on Mondo’s pecs, something he often does in times like these. It had been awkward the first time he’d done it, Taka embarrassed and stammering apologies, explaining he’d not meant to do that, and Mondo flushing bright red at the automatic reaction his body had to the stimuli. But after several minutes of awkward spluttering, Mondo had managed to convince Taka he hadn’t minded, not at all, which Taka took as fucking permission to do it /every goddamn time/ now. Which Mondo doesn’t mind, honest! It just… it sure makes his insides squirm when the teen does it… 

 “I really did not want to have to have that meeting, kyoudai. I do not even really know why I felt so adverse to the offer, but I… I /couldn’t/ do it. I just… couldn’t. A-and you… y-you’ve been teaching me to stand up for myself when I truly don’t want to go through with something, and I guess your training has made a bigger impact in me than I realized. Because… b-because, once I realized that my great aunt wasn’t going to leave me alone about this, I… I decided to /lie/,” Taka confesses, sniffing miserably and burying his face back in Mondo’s chest. Mondo barely notices it, not with how shocked he feels. Taka… Taka fucking /lied/…??? Holy /shit/! Taka /never/ does that shit! As much as the uncharacteristic action concerns him, he also feels a rush of /pride/ flood through him. After all, he’s been trying to get Taka to loosen up on his morals just a little for months now. Lying to his family… now /that’s/ fucking progress!

 Obviously Taka doesn’t feel that way, and Mondo makes sure to listen intently when the teen finally extracts his face from his chest and continues, misery billowing out of him in waves. Fuck… but man, does Mondo hate seeing Taka like this… 

 “I- I don’t even know why I did it, kyoudai. I /hate/ lying, it always makes me feel horrible and it just makes things worse every time. And this time was definitely no exception, but I… I- I do not know. I couldn’t help it. I /really/ didn’t want to meet this man, Mondo. I- I don’t even know why I felt this so vehemently. But I… I did. I didn’t want to meet him, so I lied to my family about it. I… I feel so ashamed! Someone should hit me, I’m so awful!” 

 Mondo’s heart clenches again at the sadly common response from his kyoudai, Taka crying again as he buries his face back into his chest. He always says shit like that when he’s truly distressed about something ‘awful’ he did, like dropping his textbooks on the ground, or making a slightly insensitive comment. Mondo hates it, more so after he learned that Taka does it since his old classmates and teachers used to ‘punish’ him every time he messed up in school, but he knows commenting on it would only distress Taka more. Instead, he just shushes the teen again, fucking /crooning/ down at him like a fucking chick. But whatever. If it helps Taka…

 “Hey, man, it’s okay. It’s okay. Y’ain’t gotta beat yerself up over this. Lyin’ ain’t always a bad thing, don’t worry ‘bout it. Sounds ta me like ya didn’t really have a choice, yer aunt not leavin’ ya alone. Y’ain’t a bad person fer lyin’, kyoudai. Y’ain’t a bad person at all.” 

 Mondo listens as Taka sniffles again, the teen’s eyes peeking up at him from his position on his chest. And the look he gives breaks Mondo’s heart as much as it enlivens him. Fuck… but Taka really is so goddamn pretty… again, in a manly way! Duh!! 

 “I… I do not believe that, kyoudai, but I appreciate the sentiment,” Taka mumbles softly, trying for a small smile. It breaks after a second, but Mondo is so happy to see it at all that he can’t help how he beams at the teen in his arms. Taka takes a deep breath, then, and continues once more. “Okay… I… I should probably tell you what lie I told, as that is the crux of my problems, I know… but I… p-please don’t judge me too harshly, kyoudai… I couldn’t bear it if you hated me for this…” 

 Mondo can’t help the noise of distress he lets out, his arms tightening instinctively around Taka. Because… /fuck/! As if he could ever, /ever/ hate Taka… he tells the teen as much, fervent and forceful, his heart clenching at Taka’s sad smile. 

 “I… thank you, kyoudai. You truly are too kind to me,” Taka sniffles, pulling back enough to look Mondo in the eyes as he tells whatever fucking lie he is so concerned about. It makes Mondo a little regretful to no longer be holding Taka so close, though his hands are still grasping his sides loosely. He quickly forces that thought away. Not the fucking time… “I… w-well, you see. After we argued about this for a little bit, she… she asked me if I had a real reason to not want to meet this man and become acquainted to him. She apparently had already spoken to him about this idea of hers, even showing him my picture, and claimed that he was very interested to get to know me, and that I should at least give him the benefit of the doubt. But I didn’t want to, I really didn’t, so I… when she asked me if I had a real reason to not want to meet with him, I told her that I… that I… I…”

 Taka pauses again, biting his lip harshly again, and Mondo is five seconds away from shaking Taka to force him to spit it out, so fucking curious about what lie Taka told that’s so fucking bad. Knowing Taka it’s prolly something super fucking simple, like just not liking dudes who have names with an odd number of syllables in it, but it’s killing him not to know! In fact, he’s so focused on how much he wants to know this stupid fucking lie, that he almost misses it when Taka finally utters it, his eyes blinking at what he just heard. Because… no. No, Taka /didn’t/ just fucking say that shit, he… he couldn’t have said that he… he…

 “I- I told her that I already have a boyfriend. And that we have been dating for months now.” 

 ~XoxoxoxoxoxoX~ 

 The room is silent for a split second as Mondo contemplates what Taka had just said, the words echoing in his mind over and over, all rational thought fleeing as the words assault him. /I already have a boyfriend. Have a boyfriend. Boyfriend… boyfriend…/ 

 Taka… Taka fucking…

 Taka has a fucking /boyfriend/…?! What the goddamn fuck?!

 “Y-you what?!” Mondo screeches, his voice higher pitched than he’s ever heard it go before, but he doesn’t fucking care. He watches through wide eyes as Taka flinches back from him, the hall monitor looking /freaked the fuck out/, but Mondo doesn’t focus on that, because… because… “You have a goddamn boyfriend?! What the fuck, why didn’t I know about this shit?! Who is it, do I fucking know him?! Fuck, I’m gonna beat the shit outta him, he ain’t fucking good enough fer you, I don’t care who the fuck he is, I-!” 

 “Mondo! What on /earth/ has gotten into you?!” Taka exclaims loudly, cutting off Mondo’s diatribe. Mondo blinks down at his kyoudai, taking in the absolute /anger/ he sees there, Taka glaring like he was born to do it. It’s not an uncommon sight, Taka is almost as explosive as he is when it comes to his emotions, but it still makes Mondo gulp uneasily. Shit… but that look doesn’t bode well for him… “I literally just told you that I /lied/ about it! You know full well I don’t have a boyfriend! I’ve never even kissed anyone, let alone gone on a date! I just… I didn’t want to meet with this stranger! And when my great aunt asked me why I couldn’t, it was the first thing I thought of! Y-you know that you’re the first person I’d tell if I ever managed to achieve a date, let alone if I started going out with anyone! I- I can’t believe that you would ever even /think/ that I’d not tell you something as important as that! You’re my kyoudai! My best friend! Of /course/ I’d tell you!” 

 Mondo feels his heart lurch in his chest at the fervent cry, Taka pouting harshly as he glares at him. He… shit, yeah, Taka did tell him he lied, didn’t he…? They literally just had a whole ass goddamn conversation about that, /shit/. He… he doesn’t know why he forgot about that, but… but something about hearing Taka say /‘I have a boyfriend/‘ just… he doesn’t know. Shorted his brain the fuck out. And he… he doesn’t even know why. 

 It’s not like he never thought about the possibility, right? When they first became friends, Mondo immediately knew how amazing a catch his kyoudai was, and he’d made sure to tell him all the time that he’d get a girlfriend soon, no problem, wanting Taka to see how amazing he truly was. He’d stopped doing that only when Taka had glared at him and said that he wasn’t interested in dating and that he’d appreciate Mondo not bothering him about it, which he’d immediately respected. He’d never stopped thinking it, though, especially not whenever Taka did something adorable. Which would happen every single goddamn day. 

 And that’s not changed at all over the past year, right? The only difference now is that Mondo thinks that— if he desired it— Taka will find himself a /boyfriend/ easily, not a girlfriend. So, he… he knows that the option is there. He’s always known that quite intimately. He’s even privately thought how he’d be so fucking happy for his kyoudai when he finally finds someone who loves him more than anything, like Taka deserves. Fuck, he’s even fucking planned his goddamn /best man/ speech on multiple occasions, even though he knows that shit wouldn’t happen for goddamn /years/, especially since that shit is stupidly not legal in Japan. Yet. 

 So, he… shit. He doesn’t get what his fucking problem was at hearing the words, but something about them had just… felt /wrong/. Taka saying he has a boyfriend. That they’ve been dating for /months/. The thought that Taka could have someone so important, so monumental to him… someone /other than Mondo/ that Taka relies on, confides in, spends time alone with… and for Mondo to /not even know/, it… it hurt, he guesses. So fucking bad. And that hurt had shorted out his brain, causing him to be a fucking dumbass like he always is. 

 But now, because of his stupidity, /Taka/ is hurt, thinking that Mondo would doubt their closeness, their friendship-! Shit, he’s gotta fucking fix this, fast! 

 “Shit, no, Taka, that ain’t fuckin’ it!” Mondo blurts loudly, cheeks flushing as Taka reels back in surprise. Lowering his voice consciously, he sheepishly rubs his neck, shrugging sharply. “Shit. I mean… I didn’t think ya’d keep somethin’ like that from me, man. I know ya wouldn’t. I just… I dunno. Ya know I ain’t ever been the smartest dude. Punch first, ask questions later, that sorta shit. When I heard ya say ya had a boyfriend, I just… fuckin’ spaced. But I know ya’d tell me that shit, kyoudai. I know ya would. I would never fuckin’ doubt ya, Kiyo. Not in a million goddamn years.” 

 He stares deeply into Taka’s eyes as he says this, ignoring the discomfort at the intimacy as he tries to get Taka to see his sincerity. After a moment of this, he watches as Taka looks away with a bright flush on his cheeks, a somewhat dazed look rising on his face. It… shit, it looks so fucking nice… Taka always looks so fucking nice… in a manly way. Always in a manly way… 

 “I… y-yes, kyoudai, I do know this… I am sorry for doubting you! I suppose it truly is late… and I am very distressed by all of this… believe it or not, there’s actually /more/… I’m sure you can see why this all is bothering me so much, though I am still sorry for bothering you with my nonsense again…” 

 Mondo shakes his head sharply, reaching out and grabbing one of Taka’s hands, holding it tightly as he gives the hall monitor a small but very sincere smile. 

 “Hey, none a’ that shit, okay? Ya know I don’t fuckin’ mind doin’ this shit, kyoudai. I’m always here when ya need me, day or night. S’long as it makes ya feel even slightly better, I don’t mind a goddamn bit. Now, what’s the rest a’ this bullshit, huh? Let’s fuckin’ hear it, man. Then we can work t’wards fixin’ this shit.” 

 The small, shaky smile Taka gets on his lips causes Mondo’s heart to stop beating for a second, his breath hitching at the goddamn /beauty/ of it. He quickly shoves that feeling aside as Taka nods slowly, the smile fading as the sad, nervous look returns. Fuck, he hates that look…

 “Yes… yes, you are right. Thank you, kyoudai. Anyway… after I told my great aunt the lie, she… she grew very, er… /excited/. It would take me too long to repeat all she said, but the gist of it is that she was very, very happy to hear that. And then… /then/ the cause of my problem became evident. Because… ah, kyoudai! She- she told me, in no uncertain terms, that I /must/ bring my boyfriend with me to meet the family! And she refused to accept my claim that my ‘boyfriend’ was busy that week and couldn’t make it! She just said that if he truly loved me, then he’d make the time to come visit my family, even if only for a day, though she made it clear she expects him to come for the whole week! And she said that if he doesn’t come, then he’s not worth my time and that I should meet with her neighbor’s son anyway to be with a nice, respectable boy! 

 “So, surely you- you understand my dilemma here! I lied about having a boyfriend, but now I’m excepted to suddenly have a boyfriend to bring home for the break! And if I don’t, my great aunt will think that this ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t actually love me and isn’t good enough for me, thus making me meet with this stranger anyway, making this entire lie pointless! I… I don’t know what to do, kyoudai! Do I… do I confess the lie?! Do I keep pretending and just let my great aunt think I’m dating a degenerate who doesn’t care about me at all?! Do I forgo all my morals completely and fake illness to miss the gathering and not have to deal with this situation entirely?! I don’t know, kyoudai! I have no idea! I… I…” 

 Taka starts sobbing again, then, flinging himself back into Mondo’s arms unceremoniously. Mondo can’t help the small grunt he gives at the impact, but his arms are wrapped tight around his kyoudai before he can even fully register the feel of the body pressing tight to his. His mind is absolutely not there, though, as it’s too busy trying to figure this shit out. Mondo may be a fucking dumbass, but over the years of leading his gang, he likes to think he’s gotten good at problem solving. Even if most of his solutions are ‘punch the problem until it goes away,’ he’s gotta admit that it’s usually fucking effective. 

 Not that that shit’ll help this time, of course. Sure, maybe punching Taka’s great aunt would make her see that Taka doesn’t wanna meet with this fucking douchebag neighbor of hers, but that solution opens a whole host of other problems. Not to mention the fact that she’s not even a chick; she’s a goddamn /lady/. And punching a lady is the worst crime a dude can commit. So… punching is outta the question. Regrettably. 

 But… shit. What else can they do? Clearly, they either gotta convince Taka’s aunt that he’s in a loving relationship without the dude showing up to the family reunion bullshit, or else they gotta find a way to convince her that Taka just isn’t interested in dating at the moment so she won’t make him meet the stranger. Considering how Taka mentioned she is being unreasonably stubborn about this, he highly doubts that they’ll be able to do the latter, and the former will require a lot of time and planning to pull off. Time that they don’t have, since Taka is set to leave for home as soon as exams end on Friday, which is only a little over five days away. And given how frantic Taka always has been over exams, he doubts his kyoudai will allow them any free time to actually plan shit. Hm…

 It’s as he’s rubbing Taka’s back— absently saying soothing words that he doesn’t register at all— that the thought enters his head. And it’s a stupid ass thought, right? Mondo gets those all the time, he’s so fucking stupid it’s not funny. Yeah, Taka is always telling him that he’s not as big of a dumbass as he thinks and that he’s actually really fucking smart, but he knows his kyoudai is just trying to be kind. Because judging by the absolute brainlessness of this thought, it’s clear that Mondo is just a dumbass through and through, destined to be a dumbass until the day he inevitably dies. As such, he immediately pushes the thought away and goes back to thinking about actually /good/ solutions, not fucking stupid as shit ones. 

 And yet… as the minutes stretch on and Taka just sniffles pathetically against his chest, Mondo can’t help but keep on cycling back to the idea. And it’s so stupid. Right? Absolutely brainless and moronic and impossible, there’s no way in a million years it would work! And yet… the more he thinks about it, the more /sense/ it makes. Because… shit. It would solve all of Taka’s problems nicely, wouldn’t it…? Taka wouldn’t have to worry about his great aunt discovering his lie, thus allowing Taka to not have to meet with this fucking stranger, both things that Taka wants more than anything right now. And… and Mondo /has/ always said that he’d do /anything/ for his kyoudai… absolutely… anything…

 It’s about five minutes later that Taka finally pulls back from his chest, rubbing his eyes (__adorably__), looking at him with a wide, watery stare. It breaks Mondo’s heart to see it, and for some reason it strengthens the stupid ass thought by a tenfold. And it’s stupid, so /fucking/ stupid, but when he sees Taka open his mouth, a pained grimace on his lips, he…

 He can’t quite help himself…

 “S-so… there, kyoudai. That’s my problem. I told you that it was stupid, and that I should be able to handle it on my own! It’s entirely my fault, after all! If I just hadn’t lied, none of this would be happening! Yes, I’d still have to meet with that darned stranger, but maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad! Like you said, just because we meet doesn’t mean anything has to happen! But no. No, I decided to /lie/, and now I’m paying the price! I… I’ll just have to tell Great Aunt Hana the truth and face the consequences of my actions… oh, mother and father will be so ashamed of me! What kind of moral compass /lies/ like that?! I- I’m so sorry for bothering you with my nonsense, kyoudai, you don’t deserve to deal with this, you’re always so kind to me, I don’t deserve your kindness, I truly don’t-“ 

 “Hey,” Mondo growls lightly, giving Taka a stern glare, “shut the fuck up a second, okay? Shit, an’ stop with that goddamn bullshit already. Ya know I don’t mind doin’ this shit with ya, no matter what time a’ the day, or how fuckin’ stupid it is. Yer my bro, an’ there ain’t shit that I wouldn’t do fer ya, got it? Don’t care if it’s stupid as shit, I’ll always have yer back, just like I know ya’ll always have mine. We’re fuckin’ tight as shit, bro! Ain’t nothin’ gonna break our fuckin’ bond!” 

 Mondo’s heart soars when he sees the tiny smile light up Taka’s face, his kyoudai looking so fucking /relieved/ at his words. Shit. Like he’d ever feel anything different. Mondo plows on when he sees Taka open his mouth, though, not wanting to hear his gratitude, not when he knows it’s time to get this stupid ass idea of his out there. A bubble of nerves enters his chest then, which is honestly the worst thing that could happen… he’s always been so fucking bad when it comes to handling his nerves…

 “Anyway!” Mondo shouts, the nerves making his voice far louder than he intends. Taka flinches slightly, which makes the nerves worse, which just… is really fucking unfortunate, shit… “I had an idea ‘bout how ta fix yer problems, kyoudai! It’s fuckin’ stupid as shit, I’m a complete an’ total dunbass, but the more I think ‘bout it, the more I think it may work! I understand if ya say no, though, so don’t worry kyoudai, it’s fine, I don’t mind, IT’S COMPLETELY COOL IF YA HATE IT AN’ DON’T WANNA DO IT, NO PROBLEM MAN, UH-“ 

 Mondo’s explosion of noise is stopped abruptly when he feels a warm hand grasp his cheek firmly, his breath expelled out of him entirely when he sees Taka look at him with wide eyes, concern deep within them. Shit… s-shit…

 “Kyoudai! Calm yourself, it’s alright! I’m sure that whatever idea you had is a good one! They usually are! Well… as long as it doesn’t involve violence, that is! And! You are not a… a /dumb butt/, you are very smart! Now… please tell me your idea! I am desperate for any help I can get, if you are willing to offer it!” 

 Mondo momentarily gets lost in the intensity of his kyoudai’s eyes, his heart pounding strangely in his chest. Taka doesn’t seem to notice and just stares steadily back, face full of a silent confidence that Mondo could only wish he had. Taka… Taka has always thought the best of him… after they became kyoudai, at least. He’s the only person who believes in him so completely and utterly… even Daiya’s faith wavers sometimes. Taka’s though… it never does, not even for a second… fuck, Mondo is so lucky to have someone as incredible at him… so ungodly lucky… 

 It’s this thought, more than anything, that calms him down enough to keep going, though his heart is still racing horribly in his chest. Taka’s hand has yet to leave his cheek, and his body feels so flushed at the contact, but it’s not bad. Not bad at all…

 “O-okay. Well… from what ya said, it sounds like ya just need ta find a dude ta bring home with ya, yeah? Someone who ya can call yer boyfriend, who knows ya well, who can make yer family think yer happy an’ in love, right? So- so that they’ll stop tryin’ ta hook ya up with any available body? Yeah?” 

 Mondo pauses for a second, eyeing Taka critically, his throat suddenly going thick for reasons he doesn’t understand. Shit… yeah, he knows this idea of his is stupid as shit, but it’s not like Taka will fucking /make fun of him/ for it… Taka is so fucking kind, even if he can be clueless at times, and he’d fucking never make fun of anyone. Not on purpose. 

 Unfortunately, it seems that Taka takes his silence as an invitation for comment, the hall monitor nodding slowly, biting his lip nervously. 

 “Er… well, yes, I suppose so, kyoudai! I suppose having a man come home with me /would/ solve my problems nicely! But… that’s exactly the problem, kyoudai! I don’t actually have a boyfriend, and where on earth will I be able to find one on such short notice?! Besides! I told my great aunt that we’d been dating for months, not just less than a week! Surely she’d be suspicious when she asks him questions and he reveals we only met less than a week prior?! And! My whole problem is that I /don’t/ want a boyfriend, kyoudai, so- so I don’t think that would work, I’m sorry! I mean, I suppose we could try it, but-!”

 “Goddamnit, Taka, I’m not talkin’ ‘bout findin’ ya a goddamn boyfriend! I ain’t that dumb, shit!” Mondo exclaims, rolling his eyes in exasperation. He can see Taka’s pout of confusion, his hand finally leaving his cheek slowly. Mondo has a second to regret the loss, but he doesn’t dwell on it long. After all, it’s time to reveal this fucking bullshit… “Anyway, like I was sayin’, ya… shit. Ya need someone who knows ya, so that the two a’ ya can /pretend/ ta be boyfriends. Ya get me?” 

 Mondo watches as Taka’s eyes go wide, his lips popping open in a silent ‘oh’ of understanding. It makes him smile, his chest fluttering at the sight, but he again pushes passed it, his nerves mounting again. Shit, why is this bullshit so fucking hard… ugh. He /hates/ emotions, he truly does…

 “So! All we gotta do is find someone ya get along well with, who yer super fuckin’ close ta, who knows ya better than ya fuckin’ know yerself! That way, the two a’ ya can trick yer family inta thinkin’ ya’ve been datin’ fer months an’ that yer super fuckin’ happy together! An’ I, uh… I- I think I know exactly who ta get! An’ it’s uh… uh…… s-shit…”

 Mondo’s face is uncomfortably flushed as he gets to this last part of his stupid ass plan, his hands fidgeting horribly. He’d be afraid Taka would chastise him for it, if Taka hadn’t been fidgeting this entire goddamn time. 

 Unfortunately, Taka has about as much patience as he does (re. none), and before Mondo can psych himself up for blurting out the person he thought would perfectly fit this stupid ass plan, Taka is talking, eyes wide with emotion. 

 “Really?! You have?! Who, kyoudai?! I must admit, I cannot think of anyone who would fit that description! I don’t exactly have many close friends, you know, and who exactly would be willing to pretend to be my boyfriend, spending a week with my family, which I know is a challenge on a normal day? Not to mention how taxing it would be to pretend to be in love with me, given how much of a hassle I am, and-“ 

 “Me, ya dumbass! I was fuckin’ talkin’ about me! My fuckin’ plan was that I’d go with ya ta yer family reunion bullshit an’ we’d pretend that we’re fuckin’ datin’! Shit!” 

 The silence that surrounds them following Mondo’s outburst is oppressive, the room thick and stifling with it. Mondo is positive that his face has never felt hotter, his stomach in fucking knots as Taka stares at him in fucking /horror/, his eyes wide and full of a kind of fear he never wants to see on his kyoudai’s face ever, ever again. Shit, he doesn’t want to see it now, especially considering it’s /his fucking fault/ that look is there, and oh, god, he just fucked this entire shit up, didn’t he, oh goddamnit, Taka fucking /hates/ him now, doesn’t he, is disgusted at the very thought of dating Mondo, fake or not, and how fucking dare Mondo /ever/ even /think/ he’d be good enough to be in even a fake relationship with Taka, Taka is so far out of his league it ain’t fucking funny, and-

 As the thoughts roil through Mondo’s head ceaselessly, like tiny daggers attacking every insecurity he’s ever fucking had, Taka’s face crumbles further, his distress palpable, and Mondo /knows/ he has to fix this, quick, because like hell is he gonna let their friendship die over something so /goddamn stupid, Jesus Christ he’s a fucking dumbass/-

 “Or not, shit! Hahahaha, /fuck/, kyoudai, fuckin’ ignore me, Christ! Told ya it was stupid as shit, I’m a goddamn dumbass who never has good ideas an’ ya shouldn’t listen ta a fuckin’ word I say! Like hell would ya ever date a piece a shit like me, ya deserve so much better, yer family would never believe ya’d love a dumpster fire like me, this was a stupid as shit idea, I’m so fuckin’ sorry, please don’t fuckin’ cry, I hate seein’ ya cry, shit-!” 

 “You… y-you’d really do that for me?” Taka asks softly, cutting Mondo’s panicked rambling off so abruptly it makes Mondo’s head spin. He’s so panicked inside that he doesn’t actually comprehend Taka’s softly spoken words for a full ten seconds, honestly. Instead he just stares at Taka, eyes wide, taking in the vulnerability he sees inside painfully familiar wide eyes. When the words finally penetrate the thick fog that has descended around his head, Mondo has to swallow thickly to push down the lump that formed in his throat, nodding solemnly. 

 “Ya kiddin’ me, Taka? Shit. Ya know I’d do fuckin’ anythin’ fer ya, man. You… yer my goddamn best friend, my kyoudai… the only person ta never fuckin’ doubt me fer a second… if I can help ya in any fuckin’ way, ya know I’d do it in a heartbeat. Ain’t nothin’ I wouldn’t do fer ya.” 

 Before Mondo can even blink he finds himself with an armful of a crying Taka again, his heart aching so acutely at being the cause of his fucking tears. Fuck… he really is a piece of shit, ain’t he… no wonder he’d never deserve someone as incredible as Taka… he doesn’t even deserve to be his friend, as fucking fucked up as he is, Christ…

 “Y-you truly are amazing, k-kyoudai! Your idea it- it would work perfectly! There is no one I value more than you, my friend, and while I know you do not view me that way, I think it would be simple to pretend for my family’s sake, given how close we already are! And while I dislike the idea of lying to my family, it would ensure they don’t bother me about dating for this gathering, at least! And it solves the problem of the lie I already told!” he hears Taka exclaim after a minute, the hall monitor pulling back from Mondo’s embrace enough to look him in the eyes, the brightness Mondo finds there nearly overwhelming. It strikes Mondo dumb, the ache inside him growing with every passing second. It gets hella worse when Taka’s face falls again, his lip wobbling as he goes to bite it anxiously. Jesus Christ…

 “But… but are you certain, Mondo? Y-you know what my family is like… you’ve met my parents a handful of times, and I’ve told you many stories about my grandmother, aunts, uncles, and many cousins… t-they can be a bit, er… /much/! I understand if you decide you don’t want to do this, especially since it would take a week off your break, and I know how excited you were to see your gang! Not to mention your brother! I… I’d hate to prevent you from seeing them, my friend! S-so, you don’t… you don’t have to help me, Mondo… I made this mess and I can fix it myself, I would never ask this of you, you know I wouldn’t-“

 “Then don’t ask,” Mondo interjects, automatically reaching out a hand to grab Taka’s again, squeezing gently. “I’m fuckin’ offerin’. Shit, bro. Just told ya I’d do fuckin’ anythin’ fer ya. Even slog through a fuckin’ week long family reunion full a’ energetic go getters who are all stubborn as fuckin’ oxes. The gang can fuckin’ wait. Yer more important than those jackasses. An’ Dai knows what ya mean ta me, he won’t mind me spendin’ a week with ya an’ yer family, not if it helps ya outta a bind. I see him all the fuckin’ time anyway, fuckin’ sick a’ that jackass. But, just… I mean it, Taka. I don’t mind helpin’ ya out. I’ll never mind that. ‘Sides… I think I’d honestly /kill/ ta see ya lyin’ ta yer whole ass family fer a week, man. Shit’s gonna be the fuckin’ /best/, heh!” 

 Mondo doesn’t let Taka’s glare stop the cheeky grin he has on his face, not when he can see the tension visibly flow off of Taka’s face, relief taking its place. That’s what he wanted and he’s so fucking relieved it worked. He hates seeing Taka so tense and unhappy. Taka deserves all the happiness in the world, he truly does…

 “That isn’t funny, kyoudai! Lying to my family is not a laughing matter! But I… I appreciate your kindness greatly, my friend… I honestly don’t know what I would do without you. I truly don’t,” Taka says softly, red eyes full of a tenderness that makes Mondo’s stomach twist. “But… there is one thing you said that I staunchly disagree with. You aren’t a ‘dumpster fire,’ nor are you a ‘piece of… /feces/!’ You are a wonderful, kind, and very caring person, whom I am honored to know and be close to! Any woman— or man!— would be lucky to have you! I…. I know I would be. So… please do not put yourself down, my dearest friend! You are far more than you think yourself to be!” 

 Taka’s kind and painfully honest words are too much for Mondo to handle, his heart doing gymnastics inside his chest. In an effort to dispel the soft and sappy emotions rising inside him, Mondo lets go of Taka’s hand (embarrassed to realize he was still holding it unknowingly) and deliberately pushes the hall monitor over. He grins brightly at Taka’s indignant spluttering as he falls off the bed and lands in a sprawl on the ground, his red eyes glaring up as his full lips pout. Fucking adorable as shit, goddamn…

 “Mondo! That was highly uncalled for!” 

 Mondo snickers as he carefully climbs off the bed, holding a hand out to Taka to help him up. Which Taka accepts with another pout, though Mondo thinks he can see fondness in those scarlet eyes. Heh.

 “Yeah? Well, that’ll teach ya ta not say such sappy shit ta me. What are we, preteen chicks?! Shit, man. Now, I dunno know ‘bout you, but I’ve had enough emotional bull crap fer one day. It’s so fuckin’ late, goddamn. We can work out all the details a’ this shit plan in the mornin’, ‘kay? We got a bit a’ time ‘fore this shit show starts, goddamn,” Mondo claims, stretching his arms over his head leisurely. Once he’s done stretching, he continues. 

 “So, d’ya wanna stay over an’ get some studyin’ in? Was tryin’ ta read our goddamn history textbook ‘fore ya started goin’ hog on my bell, though that shit is so fuckin’ confusin’. Or ya can just sleep if ya want. I’ll prolly be up fer a while, since I drank a fuck ton a’ monster, but I can be quiet if ya wanna sleep.”

 Taka blinks at the change in conversation, but he quickly recovers, by now used to Mondo’s abrupt conversation changes once things start drifting too far into emotional territory. The hall monitor then gets a contemplative look on his face, humming softly as he thinks about Mondo’s request. After a moment of this, Taka looks up and smiles brightly at him, nodding firmly. Mondo ignores the gymnasts that are going wild in his heart again. It ain’t important.

 “I think you are right that we should handle the rest of this come morning, kyoudai! It’s much too late to handle such unpleasant business now! And… if you do not mind, kyoudai, I think it would be best for me to stay over tonight! After all, it is very late and if I left now I would be breaking curfew for a second time! Knowingly this time! Which I definitely do not want! And I… I wouldn’t mind staying up for a little bit longer with you! I know that sleep is important to a healthy person, but I must admit that I am a bit too… wired to sleep at the moment. But… w-well. Perhaps we could watch another episode of that show you enjoy instead? While I greatly support your desire to study, I know that you are just trying to appease me, and I do not want that, kyoudai! After all you have done for me today, and all you have offered for the future… well! It’s the absolute least I could do! I-if you would like, of course!” 

 Mondo grins widely at his kyoudai’s offer, reaching forward to affectionately ruffle the teen’s hair. He ignores Taka’s indignant squawking and wraps his arm firmly around the hall monitor’s surprisingly broad and muscular shoulders, steering him gently over to the TV and couch he has in the corner of the room. He definitely ain’t gonna argue when /Taka/ finally asks to watch TV over studying for the first time in his entire goddamn life! It seems that miracles do happen! 

 “Hell yeah, man! Now yer speakin’ my language! Sit yer pasty ass down an’ get ready fer the absolute best goddamn time a’ yer fuckin’ life,” Mondo grins, laughing at Taka’s over exaggerated eye roll. He remembers a time Taka refused to do such a thing, calling it ‘juvenile’ and ‘grotesquely disrespectful,’ heh. How far his little kyoudai has come… he’s so fucking proud. 

 After that, he and Taka sprawl down on the couch, Mondo putting on another episode of the best fucking anime the world has ever seen as he and Taka get busy getting comfy. He knows that Taka isn’t very invested in the story, but the hall monitor is kind enough to watch the series with him on occasion anyway, usually as a treat for finishing all of his work on time. It feels a little weird to be watching a show with Taka at one in the fucking morning, but there’s something strangely thrilling about it too. Like they’re breaking a rule together, even though there technically aren’t any rules prohibiting shit like this. It’s prolly just because normally, Taka wouldn’t be caught dead watching a TV show in general, let alone watching one past curfew, heh. His kyoudai sure is structured, following the most rigid fucking schedule Mondo has ever seen every goddamn day of his goddamn life… it’s honestly kinda endearing, heh. 

 As the screen turns on and Mondo navigates to his favorite fucking show, he has to forcibly push away the fucking anxiety that keeps trying to crop up inside of him over the thought of what he agreed to do with Taka over the break, telling himself that he’ll handle it later. And why the fuck should it even matter, huh? Shit, it’s just pretending to be his best friend’s fucking /boyfriend/ in front of all of his fucking family for an entire goddamn week, tricking them into thinking the two of them are madly in love and happy together so they’ll stop harassing Taka about getting a boyfriend. All while being the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader, AKA a no good, rotten, criminal delinquent who in no way, shape, or form will ever be close to being good enough for someone as fucking /perfect/ as Taka. The fuck does he have to be nervous about, huh?! Shit will be fine. Fucking /fine/. 

 It’s about halfway through the episode, Mondo barely noticing what’s going on (definitely /not/ because he’s internally freaking the fuck out over the thought of the con job he and Taka are gonna attempt to pull off, fuck you very much), that he feels a weight fall against his shoulder. 

 Jolting slightly in surprise, Mondo looks to his left and feels his heart clench when he sees Taka leaning against him with his eyes closed, his mouth partially open, and his breathing deep and even. While it’s not even close to the first time he’s seen Taka while he’s sleeping— since they’ve had so many sleepovers by this point that it’s not funny— it still always manages to take him by surprise just how peaceful the teen looks when he’s asleep. His intense eyebrows aren’t furrowed into tight little knots, and his lips aren’t pulled down into that angry little scowl. He looks almost like a regular teen like this, like he hasn’t put the weight of the world forcibly onto his own shoulders. It’s… honestly super fucking alluring… not that he views Taka like that! Heh! 

 Anyway… Mondo focuses back on the TV as the final act of the show plays out, Mondo following along easily since he’s seen this episode a hundred goddamn times. He tries not to notice Taka’s steady weight against his shoulder, but it’s so fucking hard not to. After a minute, he gives into temptation and wraps his arm around Taka’s shoulder, allowing the teen to rest more comfortably against his side. He yet again ignores the clenching his heart gives when he feels Taka happily snuggle closer, lips releasing a happy little hum as he gets comfy. Ain’t a fucking problem. Not like this is the first time this shit has happened. No big deal. 

 When the episode finally ends, Mondo starts another one, not wanting to let go of Taka just then. It’s just nice, okay? Holding the teen. Feeling his warmth against him. Mondo’s always been a very tactile person and being close to Taka like this is just… nice. So fucking nice. It ain’t fucking weird, okay?! Shit…

 By the time that episode ends Mondo can feel the energy drink wear off, his body crashing from the caffeine high. Blinking back his exhaustion, he turns off the TV and turns to face his kyoudai, smiling at the peaceful expression. He truly regrets reaching out and shaking Taka gently to wake him, but he knows that he’s gotta. While he could carry the hall monitor to his bed no problem, he knows he can’t let Taka sleep in his uniform all night. And like hell is he gonna undress the teen without his knowledge. Shit’s creepy as fuck. 

 “Hey, kyoudai. Ya gotta wake up, man. It’s so fuckin’ late an’ we gotta get ta bed. Ya hear me?” Mondo mutters as he tries to rouse his sleeping friend. Given that Taka’s always been a bit of a heavy sleeper, it takes him a few moments of this before the teen blinks awake, his red eyes bleary with exhaustion. 

 “K-kyoudai? What are you doing here?” Taka mumbles sleepily, his eyes blinking heavily as he looks around the room absently. It makes Mondo smile, finding Taka unreasonably cute. He just can’t help it. Dude’s fucking adorable, ask anyone. 

 “Yer in my room, man. ‘Member? Ya had that problem with yer family an’ then I asked if ya wanted ta study? An’ ya said no, ya wanted ta watch a show instead? Only ta fall asleep halfway through the first episode, like the old man ya are? Ringin’ any bells?” Mondo rumbles, a smirk replacing the smile as he teases his friend. He watches as Taka continues to blink, comprehension filling his face slowly. A flush rises on Taka’s cheeks for reasons Mondo doesn’t know, the teen averting his eyes hastily. 

 “A-ah, yes, I… I’m sorry, kyoudai… I didn’t mean to fall asleep… d-did you still want to watch some of the show now? I do not mind!” Taka claims, though his voice is thick with sleep. Smiling softly, Mondo shakes his head. Then, unable to help himself, he reaches out and brushes back some of Taka’s hair, privately relishing in the coarseness of the strands. He can tell Taka didn’t take a shower like he usually does at night, leaving his hair all crunchy from his gel, the strands sticking out in all directions. It makes Taka look disheveled in a way Mondo doesn’t think anyone else has ever seen, save maybe his parents. The thought brings a rush of pure pleasure to flow through him. 

 “Nah, man. It’s cool. ‘Sides, I’m fuckin’ crashin’ hard. Just wanted ta wake ya so ya could change outta yer ridiculous uniform. Can’t sleep in that shit. Want, uh… w-want some help?” 

 Taka blinks blearily at him, his soft flush darkening. To Mondo’s intense shock, the teen nods slowly, red eyes sinking to the ground. Oh… shit. He hadn’t expected Taka to agree… not that he minds, of course, this ain’t the first time he’s helped his kyoudai undress (in a strictly platonic way, Jesus fucking Christ) but… h-heh. Shit. 

 “I-if you do not mind, my dearest kyoudai,” Taka mumbles, stabbing Mondo through the heart. Clearing his throat to try and dislodge the ball of emotion that has risen there, Mondo nods mutely and reaches forward to grab the ridiculous medals and pins and place them down on the table nearby. Taka helps with this, but his fingers are clumsy, his eyes drooping heavily with every second that passes. It’s so fucking adorable, but Mondo presses on and begins unbuttoning the ridiculously complex white jacket. Once that’s off, Mondo folds it the way Taka has taught him, though far more clumsily and awkwardly. It’s worth it to see the sleepy smile his kyoudai shoots him, though. 

 Soon enough Taka is down to his underwear, Mondo doing his best to not internally combust. But why the fuck should it matter if Taka’s in his underwear, huh?! He’s seen the dude naked a ton of times, since they routinely take a morning bath in the bathhouse together. Nakedness has never, not once, bothered Mondo, so he firmly ignores the heat in his gut as he reaches forward to lift up his kyoudai. It’s so expected by this point that Taka doesn’t even let out a token protest at the action, instead just wrapping his arms around Mondo’s neck with a happy hum.  

 The feel of sleep warm, bare skin against his body is stupidly distracting, so Mondo quickly heads for his bed and gently places Taka down atop it. Mondo gives himself one second to admire the image of a half naked, sleepy Taka cuddling down into his bed, before he begins discarding his pants and getting into the bed beside his kyoudai. He keeps his tank on, though. Just… for no reason, really. 

 As soon as his head hits the pillow, Mondo feels his eyes close heavily, his exhaustion catching up to him. It’s about half past two and even he’s tired as shit. Luckily it’s Saturday (Sunday now, technically), giving him all of tomorrow (today, shit, whatever) to lounge in bed and relax. He carefully doesn’t think about how Taka sure as shit ain’t gonna allow him to do that, as anal as the teen is about studying for the exams, and lets his delusion of a lazy day soothe him into the bliss of sleep. 

 Before he can fully drift off, though, he feels a cautious hand brush the back of his own, causing his eyes to flutter open and his head to loll to the side, eyeing his friend. Taka is curled into a ball on his side, like he usually sleeps, but even through the dark Mondo can see that his bright red eyes are open, even if they droop with sleep. 

 “Mondo? Are you awake?” Taka asks quietly, his voice softer than Mondo’s ever heard it. Concerned, Mondo moves his hand to grab his friend’s, squeezing the appendage tightly. 

 “Yeah. Y’okay, kyoudai? Need anythin’?” 

 Mondo watches as Taka shakes his head slowly, the hall monitor subtly shifting so that he’s closer to Mondo. Usually when they share a bed they’re able to stay on their respective sides, but it’s not uncommon for them to migrate to the middle, either in sleep or deliberately like this. He tells himself that firmly when he feels his heart jump at the feel of Taka’s head landing on his chest, Mondo’s arms automatically wrapping around an overwhelmingly warm chest. 

 “I just… wanted to thank you, my friend. For all your help today, and how kind you’ve always been to me. I will never understand why you- you care about me, but I… I cannot be more grateful. I… you truly are outstanding, Mondo. Truly.” 

 The whispered words break Mondo’s heart, and before he knows it he is tightening his grip to try and release some of the emotion that is building up inside him. Logically, he knows that he was Taka’s first friend and that a lot of the teen’s gratitude towards him is in regards to that, but… but sometimes, when Taka says shit like that, that’s he’s outstanding and kind and- and shit like that, he…

 He can almost find it in him to believe it…

 The emotion still far too overwhelming, Mondo finds himself leaning down and pressing a featherlight, gentle kiss to his kyoudai’s crown, an action he knows he will fervently deny to his dying day. Right now, though… he’s too tired to care. 

 “Shit… thanks, bro. Now, ‘nough chick shit. Get some sleep, man. Know yer gonna wanna be up stupidly early ta go over yer self-made study guide an’ I fuckin’ /know/ yer gonna force me ta do that shit too. So… get some sleep, Kiyo. Rest a’ this shit can wait ‘til mornin’, ‘kay?” 

 Taka nods sleepily against his chest, letting out one last happy sigh before he immediately falls into a deep sleep, his breathing deep and even. Mondo honestly envies how quick the teen can fall asleep, since even when he’s dead tired it takes Mondo a while to drift off. But that’s okay. He doesn’t mind. He’s glad Taka can find sleep that easy. He deserves it. 

 He uses his time to watch his kyoudai as he sleeps, sleepy eyes tracing over painfully familiar features, over and over again. If he were in his right mind he’d force himself to stop, thinking how fucking creepy it is to watch a person sleep, but he uses his exhaustion as an excuse and keeps going. Eventually his eyes get too heavy and he has to close them, sleep finding him soon after, but he’s not too disappointed. 

 It ain’t like this is the last time they’ll ever do this shit. 

 The thought is comforting. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(While they don’t show up for a few more chapters, here is a cheat sheet of Taka’s family on his mother’s side. Spoiler: there are a lot and they have similar names. No, this was not at all confusing for me while writing this story. No, I’m TOTALLY not lying right now. :-) )

Taka’s family (this part is a basic run down of Taka’s family on his mother’s side. This is what I used to come up with the OC’s I was going to need. Not all of these characters will be at the reunion, but most will. I have a more in depth run down with names and ages right after this):

Him

His mom and dad.

His mom’s older sister and younger brother. The sister is married and has three children, ages 14, 10, and 6. Taka gets along with the children reasonably well, but his aunt doesn’t approve of his sexuality. The brother is divorced and has two children, ages 8 and 3, but they’re not coming to the reunion.

His grandma who is a widow. His great aunt Hana and great uncle Akiro. They have two children, both of whom are coming. One of the children is unmarried while the other is and has three children, two twins about Taka’s age and a 13 year old. Taka doesn’t get along with the twins at all and only somewhat tolerates the 13 year old. The entire family is vaguely unpleasant and stuck up.

There is another cousin who is the child of another great uncle who passed, his grandmother’s older brother. This cousin has two children, one who is twenty five and has two children, ages three and five months, while the other is twenty and single. Taka gets along with them reasonably well.

Note: Pretty much all of these names were picked at random from a list of Japanese baby names. Very little thought was put into them, other than the name I gave Taka’s mother. But I already named her in my other fic The Problem With Perfection, ha.

~XOX~

List of people at the family reunion:

Takaaki: Taka’s dad. Like in canon, he’s a cop and is very tired all the time with the debt he has to pay back. He loves Taka dearly and would do anything for him. Age: Mid to late thirties

Kiyoshi: the name I gave Taka’s mom. Since, ya know… it’s not fair if he only gets named after his dad, ha. She is very kind and loving to Taka, and Taka is extremely close to her. Age: mid to late thirties.

Granny Kichi: Taka’s grandma, Kiyoshi’s mom. She’s very shrewd and opinionated, and she doesn’t like being in the wrong. She is not a fan of Mondo at all. Age: late sixties, early seventies.

Great Aunt Hana: Taka’s aunt, older sister of his grandma. She lived with Kiyoshi and Kichi when Kiyoshi was little, so she’s like a second mother to her. She’s even more stubborn and opinionated than Kichi, which is saying a lot, though she tends to be more fair in her judgement and is cautiously approving of Mondo. Age: early to mid seventies.

Great Uncle Akiro: Hana’s husband. While he also lived with Kiyoshi and Kichi, Kiyoshi isn’t as close to him, as he’s very reserved. She loves him dearly though. Age: late seventies.

Kumi: Taka’s first cousin once removed, though he calls her ‘aunt.’ She’s the daughter of Akiro and Hana. Very unpleasant and elitist and doesn’t get along well with Kiyoshi, despite being raised together, making them almost siblings. Mildly homophobic. Age: mid to late forties.

Daichi: Kumi’s husband, who Taka calls ‘uncle’. He’s a successful business man and is very rigid and cold. Like Byakuya but a bit less pretentious and more cruel. Is very disparaging to Takaaki and Kiyoshi because of the Ishimaru scandal. Homophobic. Age: late forties.

Akihiko: Taka’s other first cousin once removed, though he calls him ‘uncle.’ The son of Akiro and Hana. He never married and is a happy bachelor. He and Taka get along well, though Akihiko is much more laid back than any of the others in the family. He’s close to Kiyoshi and they get along very well. Age: late forties.

Eiko: Taka’s second cousin. She is the twin sister to Eichi and is the first daughter of Kumi and Daichi. She is a very unpleasant, nasty girl who thinks herself better than others because her father is rich. Taka dislikes her greatly, though he does his best to be polite to her. She has no real opinion on homosexuality, but she has no problem using it against Taka. Age: sixteen, almost seventeen. About a year younger than Taka at the time of this fic.

Eichi: Taka’s other second cousin. He is the twin brother to Eiko and only son of Kumi and Daichi. He is also very unpleasant, always bullying Taka because of what happened to Taka’s paternal grandfather. Taka would never admit it, but he hates Eichi and equates him with the worst of his bullies in grade school. He also has no real strong opinions about homosexuality, but definitely doesn’t mind using it against Taka. Age: sixteen, almost seventeen.

Haruki: Taka’s other second cousin. Younger sister of Eichi and Eiko and youngest daughter of Kumi and Daichi. Of her branch of the family, she is the nicest, but that’s not saying much as she is still very stuck up and snobbish. She looks down upon Taka for the scandal, but she doesn’t hate him and doesn’t tend to bully him. She is actually supportive of gay rights, though she does not publicly admit this for fear of being alienated by her family. Age: thirteen.

Jin: daughter of an unnamed great uncle, who was the eldest brother of Kichi and Hana. She is married to Taishiro. They are not attending the reunion so they don’t really matter, ha. Age: mid fifties.

Yoshi: Taka’s second cousin. Eldest daughter of Jin and Taishiro. She is kind of like a big sister to Taka and they get along well. She is mellower than Taka, though she also has a strict sense of right and wrong, and has a bubbly personality. Age: twenty-five.

Alex: Married to Yoshi. He is an American immigrant who lives in Japan. He is nice enough, though very bland and his Japanese is so-so. Age: mid to late twenties.

Samantha: Taka’s second cousin once removed, daughter of Yoshi and Alex. She is three and is very rambunctious and spirited. Talks A LOT. Taka adores her and she adores Mondo, to Mondo’s confusion, disgruntlement, and private delight. Age: three.

Benny: Taka’s other second cousin once removed, son of Yoshi and Alex. He is an infant and is very, very cute. Taka adores him dearly. Yes, he is just an excuse to have Taka and Mondo hold and take care of a baby and I won’t apologize for it. Age: five months.

Miki: Taka’s other second cousin. Youngest daughter of Jin and Taishiro. She is currently in university as a fashion design major and wants to become a famous fashion designer. Bugs Taka all the time about Junko (who, BTW, isn’t evil in the AU, but is definitely not nice). Taka doesn’t get along with her as well as he gets along with Yoshi, but he likes her well enough. She has trouble finding a date (mostly due to her overbearing nature) and is bitter about it, but is super supportive of Taka and Mondo’s “relationship.” Age: 20

Ryoko: Taka’s actual aunt. Older sister of Kiyoshi. Homophobic and very vocal about her disdain for Taka and Mondo’s relationship. Before he came out, Taka had liked his aunt very much, and is very hurt by her disdain and disgust for him now. She does not get along well with her younger sister at all because of her comments towards Taka. Before that, they were fairly close as well.  Age: early forties.

Yuudai: Ryoko’s husband. A very meek and quiet man who gets overshadowed by his wife. Taka feels a bit sorry for him, but never says that. He is not homophobic but he doesn’t speak out against his wife. Age: early forties.

Ronin: Taka’s first cousin, son of Ryoko and Yuudai. A spirited boy who takes a shining to Mondo, much to Mondo’s discomfort. Unlike his mother, he has no problem with people who are gay. Age: fourteen.

Raidon: Taka’s first cousin, son of Ryoko and Yuudai. Quieter than his older brother, Raidon likes to look and listen, not speaking much. He also likes Mondo and has no problem with people who are gay. Age: ten.

Rini: Taka’s first cousin, daughter of Ryoko and Yuudai. Very loud and energetic, she adores Taka and is borderline obsessed with Mondo, to Mondo’s supposed horror. Taka finds it adorable. Does not understand why her mother does not like Mondo or his relationship to Taka. Age: six.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that’s the first chapter! I honestly really like this chapter and it’s prolly the main reason I keep thinking about this story so much. I really wanted to share this chapter specifically, so I’m glad I’m finally sharing it here on Tumblr. I’ve been meaning to for AGES, but kept putting it off. But there’s no time like the present. ^-^ Hopefully I’ll post the second chapter tomorrow, prolly in a different post to not make this one insanely long. I’ll prolly not add the italics to that chapter and just have the little slants to indicate italics, since it took me a while to do that today. I’ve not put this fic on my computer since it’s unfinished, so I just have my little indicators I use on my phone at the moment. Sorry if that bothers anyone. 

[theharrowing]

Dollhouse 💛 14: A tangle of bodies

Hoseok’s job is simple: He enters the host’s body, he confiscates or terminates the target, and he gets back into his own body by dinnertime, easy peasy. Until a client comes along who becomes as obsessed with his life as he becomes with theirs, and the lines between their realities begin to blur.

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

💛 Hoseok x Namjoon, Jungkook x Yoongi, Hoseok x Yoongi, Namjoon x Jungkook, Hoseok x Yoongi x Jungkook 

💛 word count: 7.9k

💛 hired assassin au, sci-fi, body swapping, graphic violence, infidelity, body dysphoria, lgbtq, smut, fluff, angst, poly, nsfw, smut, 21+

💛 chapter warnings: infidelity, ass eating, angst, oral, vaginal & anal sex, threesome, recreational drug use (ecstasy), selfcest?

💛 beta read by @neoneunnajimin​ 

💛 posted may, 2022 | read on ao3

Jeongguk: Old men are heading home tomorrow, on schedule with us. We'll have to whack them on home soil.

Hoseok: I need you to stop sending me texts containing orders to whack people. We're not part of a mafia.

Jeongguk: Who are you afraid of seeing your messages? You're literally a government official.

Hoseok:  We'll talk about this later. 

Jeongguk: Are you sure? I plan to have my hands and mouth pretty full later. And I don't think you'll be in any shape to argue, big boy.

Hoseok sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He misses the façade- Jeongguk, who was too shy to look him in the eye, much less call him "big boy." This Jeongguk—bossy, sexually deviant Jeongguk—is a fucking troublemaker. Hoseok wonders if Namjoon still wants to go through with their drunk plan or if he'll realize it's all been a mistake now that he's had time to think it over. He should probably find a way to ask him. 

Namjoon: Ran into Jeongguk at the gym. He's asking about brunch. Yes or no?

Hoseok: Sure. Do you want to come back and shower, or should I head down soon?

Hoseok gets off the bed and makes his way to his closet, deciding that now is as good a time as any to put on some actual clothes since he just went to sleep in briefs last night. He chooses a black tee and slacks, telling himself they should be good enough for today, forgoing his standard button-up—something he's been doing too often lately. Namjoon will probably want to dress more casually, anyway, so he tells himself that it's probably fine.

As Hoseok changes into new briefs and pulls his t-shirt over his head, there's a knock at the door. He pauses, arm hanging halfway through its hole, unsure if he really heard a knock when there's another. 

"Hoseokah?" Yoongi calls from the other side. 

Hoseok sighs and, forgetting he's not wearing pants, pads his way over to the door, straightening out his shirt. When Hoseok opens the door, Yoongi's eyes fall to Hoseok's bare legs, then move back up, and he pushes his way into the room with a smirk. 

"Hey, baby," Yoongi says, taking Hoseok by the wrist and pulling their bodies together against the closing door. Yoongi wraps his arms around Hoseok's waist, and Hoseok stumbles forward, allowing Yoongi to overwhelm him. 

"Our boys are in the gym and are probably gonna hit the shower for a bit, so I figured I would come keep you company while we wait."

Hoseok's phone is on the bed, so he hasn't had a chance to see if Namjoon has responded, and he's not sure if Yoongi's just trying to get in a quick fuck. But he also doesn't care. Yoongi's freshly showered with slightly damp hair and dewy skin, and he smells like a field of lavender and newly chopped trees. And, wearing just a black t-shirt and black sweats, Hoseok can make out every delicate curve of bone and muscle on Yoongi's torso.

"Yoongi," Hoseok mutters, "I—"

Hoseok's head spins, heart pounds, and Yoongi's fingers, which have inched up Hoseok's shirt and hold his waist, are searing hot. Yoongi cocks his head and hums, encouraging Hoseok to go on. 

"What happens if all of this works out?"

Yoongi squints, attempting to read Hoseok, and holy shit, Hoseok feels incredibly anxious. He takes a step back, guiding Yoongi toward the bed, and Yoongi follows, holding eye contact, waiting for Hoseok to elaborate. The walk across the suite feels like forever, but Hoseok's thoughts are so scattered, he welcomes the time to attempt to think. When his calf finally hits the mattress, he flinches, then sighs. 

"If Namjoon likes it, and if everything is good, and it works out, what—" Hoseok leans against the edge of the bed and allows Yoongi to spread his legs with a thigh, grazing Hoseok's cock and balls through his thin briefs. 

"What are you afraid of?" Yoongi asks, leaning in just enough to graze his lips over Hoseok's as he speaks. 

"You," Hoseok admits, almost whispers. "Me. Everything. I won't want to stop. And Jeongguk...I want you to fuck me in his body again. I want to feel what it's like to be him again."

Yoongi licks over Hoseok's lips, and Hoseok whines, melting into the kiss. Yoongi's thigh gently rubs Hoseok, and Hoseok can't help but whimper and rut against the friction. He wants Yoongi to touch him so badly. To fuck him, to taste him, to do anything he wants. 

"Wait," Hoseok mutters. His brain is foggy, and his body is electric with arousal, but he knows he should check his phone. "I should see if Joonie responded."

"I told you, Jeongguk has him."

"He's not going to just let Jeongguk touch him, though," Hoseok mutters, stretching his arm out to reach his phone, which sits just out of reach. Yoongi loosens his grip, and Hoseok manages to touch a finger to the device, then shimmy it over with his fingertips. When he grabs his phone, he notices messages from both Namjoon and Jeongguk. 

Namjoon: Jeongguk wants to work out a little longer. He says he sent Yoongi to keep you company. I hope you don't mind?

Hoseok:  Not at all. Take your time.

Hoseok checks the time stamp. It was only four minutes ago. 

Jeongguk: Sent you a gift. Feel free to unwrap him. I want to make Joonie a sweaty mess and then clean him off.

Hoseok: Joon is the one who wanted all 4 of us to be together the most, but good luck. You have my blessing. Let me know when you're heading back. 

"Everything okay?" Yoongi asks, tightening his grip on Hoseok's waist. 

Hoseok tosses his phone to the bed and wraps his arms around Yoongi's shoulders, pulling him closely while he pouts. "No, daddy."

"Awe," Yoongi mock-pouts, "what's the matter, baby?"

Hoseok grinds his ass down on Yoongi's thigh and whines when the tiniest amount of friction passes his hole. He hasn't felt this needy for someone in so long, and although he still feels sore from taking Namjoon's cock the night before, he knows Yoongi's mouth will feel like heaven on the sensitive flesh.

"I miss your tongue, daddy," Hoseok whines, resting his forehead against Yoongi's. "I want you to eat me out."

"Hands down at your sides, baby," Yoongi mutters, and Hoseok nods his head, then drops his arms from Yoongi's shoulders, brushing his fingertips down Yoongi's chest and breathing in his smell. 

Yoongi grips onto Hoseok's waist and spins him, shoving him into the mattress, and Hoseok gasps, feeling a jolt of excitement start from his tummy and shoot through him. The old familiar vines snake tightly around Hoseok's ribs, blooming with bright flowers as Yoongi yanks Hoseok's briefs down and spreads him with his big, firm hands. 

Hoseok bends into the mattress and grips onto the comforter, and as soon as he feels Yoongi's tongue lap slowly over his hole, Hoseok moans, melting further forward. Yoongi's tongue is wet and warm, and it sends a wave of arousal crashing through Hoseok, already causing his legs to tremble.

"Did Joonie fuck your tight hole, baby?" Yoongi groans then licks again.

"Y-yes, daddy."

"It's so puffy, baby; so pretty. Is it sensitive?”

"Yes, daddy."

The trouble with fucking around with Yoongi is that Yoongi clouds Hoseok's senses so completely that all the world falls away. This includes thoughts of his husband. Hoseok knows in his heart that letting Yoongi have so much power over him may ultimately be his downfall—could very well claim everything Hoseok holds dear, ripped straight from his grasp—and he does nothing to stop himself around Yoongi. Hoseok is powerless.

Yoongi eats Hoseok's ass. His expert tongue traces him in circles, flicks, laps, and penetrates, and Hoseok whines and sobs as the pleasure overwhelms him. Hoseok's cock presses into the mattress, and every tremble in his thighs and jolt in his hips give a painful rush of pleasure. Yoongi licks him in a rhythm that has Hoseok's desperate, leaking cock throbbing quickly.

"Please," Hoseok whines, holding himself on weak, shaky legs.

Yoongi moves his mouth away, and Hoseok's hips jerk back. "Please what, baby?"

"Please, I want to come. Please, daddy. You feel so good."

Yoongi tugs Hoseok away from the bed, then twists him again, and Hoseok nearly topples over, grabbing Yoongi's head for stability. The sight of Yoongi down on his knees with his lips pink and chin slick from eating his ass makes Hoseok's heart pound hard. Yoongi angles himself up, holding Hoseok firmly against the mattress with his hands pressing into Hoseok's hips, and mutters, "Then come for me, baby boy," before taking Hoseok's cock into his mouth, sucking down into his throat. 

Hoseok leans back against the bed, hands propping himself up, and loses himself in pleasure as Yoongi sucks his cock down and swirls his tongue as he comes up. Yoongi's deep, raspy voice moans, sending vibrations through Hoseok, and Hoseok whimpers and tries not to cry out too loudly as his hips shake and his arousal builds.

It's a tidal wave crashing hard against the shore, and Hoseok can't even form words before he's about to come, just mutters a weak, "Da-ha-aah—" before his hips jerk, and he fills Yoongi's mouth. Yoongi groans as if Hoseok's orgasm brings him pleasure and sucks until Hoseok begs him to stop and then sucks a little more. Hoseok jolts forward and gently grabs Yoongi's head, then his legs give out, and he tumbles, assisted by Yoongi as Hoseok straddles his thighs. 

"Fuck," Hoseok whimpers, burying his face in Yoongi's neck.

"You taste so good, baby."

"Fuck, we weren't supposed to—how do I keep letting you—"

Yoongi scoffs and kisses Hoseok's neck. His voice is deep and raspier than usual when he mutters, "Letting me, what? You begged me, Seokah."

"Letting you intoxicate me. Letting you cloud my thoughts. How do I keep letting you do this to me?" Hoseok sighs. He's so incredibly fucked. 

"It's okay, baby. Jeongguk and Joonie are probably fucking in the shower right now. I bet Namjoon couldn't wait to taste pussy again."

Hoseok sits back, and his head hits the side of the mattress. It's a dull thud, and he squeezes his eyes shut. "No," he mutters. "He wouldn't do that. He's probably gently turning Jeongguk down. He wouldn't just do it without us discussing it."

Yoongi hums and holds onto Hoseok's hips, keeping Hoseok from sliding off his angled legs, and Hoseok opens his eyes and stares at a spot on Yoongi's shirt rather than look him in the eye. This thing that they're doing—this thing that Hoseok seems addicted to—it's getting the best of him. Try as he might, Hoseok can't figure out why he can never seem to get enough of Yoongi. 

"I should get dressed," Hoseok finally says, forcing his thoughts to stop swimming. He pushes back, out of Yoongi's grasp, and haphazardly stands up. 

"Alright," Yoongi says. "I'll go change and brush my teeth. Call me if you need anything."

There's something so casual in how Yoongi invites Hoseok to call if he needs anything; Hoseok can't imagine what he could possibly need from him. As Hoseok walks to his closet and picks up the slacks he intended to put on earlier, he can't help but wonder if Namjoon would do something with Jeongguk down in the showers. After what just transpired, he hopes that Namjoon would. 

"Alright, well, thanks for uh—" Yoongi stops and clears his throat, and Hoseok turns to watch Yoongi shrug, "uh, coming down my throat."

Hoseok scoffs and looks at the floor. "Thanks for letting me. It felt amazing."

Yoongi hums, and then he's gone, and Hoseok can't help but feel suffocated by his anxiety. He walks to the bed and checks his phone, and when he finds no new notifications, he sighs in relief. Maybe Jeongguk was convincing enough, and Namjoon went along with it. Maybe. Hopefully. 

Hoseok walks into the bathroom to brush his teeth, wash his face and neck, and put enough product in his hair to comb it out of his eyes. He returns to the main room and sits on the ugly fucking white couch that he might miss a little once they leave this place, and he inhales deeply, holds it, and exhales. His phone dings. 

Jeongguk: Coming back. Is Yoongi with you?

Hoseok:  No.

Jeongguk:  Okay.

The moment Hoseok sets his phone down, his mind is in overdrive once more. Jeongguk didn't brag—why didn't Jeongguk brag? Jeongguk would brag, right? So, why. He wants to ask, but he's not sure whether he should because what if Jeongguk was joking before, just riling Hoseok up, and Hoseok did something with Yoongi that he should not have done. Not that Jeongguk would mind, but...Namjoon. Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon. 

Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut, and when he opens them, his vision is clouded with white spots, and the door to his suite opens. Namjoon enters alone. His hair is wet, indicating a shower. Good, that's good. But his cheeks are flushed, and he's looking at the floor. That's concerning. Hoseok gives Namjoon a moment before greeting him, then smiles widely when Namjoon finally makes eye contact. 

"Hey, baby!" Hoseok says, sitting forward and giving Namjoon his full attention.

Namjoon approaches, opens his mouth to speak, and then crumbles. He falls to the floor in the middle of the room, knees bent in with his hands on the carpet, and he heaves desperately as if suddenly the air is too thin. Hoseok gets off the couch, half-standing, half-crouching as he walks over, then kneels next to Namjoon.

"Joonie, what's wr—"

Namjoon curls in on himself and cries. Big, heavy, shoulder-shaking sobs that echo through the room, and this is not what Hoseok imagined would happen, though he isn't fully surprised. And he already knows. Hoseok already knows what happened before Namjoon even has to say anything. And the vines squeeze and squeeze. 

"Baby, talk to me," Hoseok coos, reaching to rub circles on Namjoon's back, and Namjoon flinches away and throws himself further onto the floor.

"I don't deserve—I don't—don't touch me," Namjoon stammers through sobs and sniffles loudly. 

"Of course you deserve me, baby; just tell me what's wrong."

"J—Jeon— Jeongguk, he—'' Namjoon shakes his head. "No, it's my fault. I can't blame him, I wanted it."

Hoseok swallows a lump in his throat and fights the urge to cry for his husband. He wants to tell Namjoon that it's okay, that he's not upset, but he doesn't want it to seem like he knows. So he says nothing, and he waits. Namjoon gasps for air and cries for a while longer. And then, when he's laid on the carpet in the fetal position, he clears his throat and tries again. 

"I'll understand if you leave me," Namjoon says, voice raw and deep. 

Hoseok lays on his side on the floor facing Namjoon and slowly reaches out to test a caress. Namjoon doesn't flinch when Hoseok's hand gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze, and Hoseok gives Namjoon a soft smile. 

"I would never leave you, baby. Just tell me what's got you so upset and we'll handle it."

Namjoon closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. " Jeongguk came to the gym, and he was very touchy and flirty, which I expected. And I was good at laughing off and allowing it because it was...nice. It was nice. I didn't think you'd mind."

Hoseok shakes his head with a smile. "Of course not, Joonie."

"But then we went into the showers, and he—he followed me into my stall, and I was shocked and told him that he shouldn't be there, but he begged me for a kiss. I barely h—" Namjoon chokes on a sob and begins to cry more, though not as hard as before. 

"I barely hesitated. Hoseok, I hardly thought twice. I just thought about last night and how good it felt, and I pushed him against the stall door and kissed him until he was moaning and begging me to let him suck my cock. And he got naked, and, fuck, he was so, so pretty."

Hoseok takes a deep breath quietly, not letting it sound exasperated because he does not want to make Namjoon even more upset or make Namjoon think he is upset. Then he squeezes Namjoon's shoulder tighter. 

"Joonie, look, I know we agreed to wait until we were all four together, but I promise you, whatever happened with Jeongguk in the shower is not enough for me to leave you."

"Seok, I'm so—"

"I mean it. Whether you kissed, or Jeongguk sucked you off, or you fucked...whatever happened, I'm not mad at you, and it would never change how I feel about you. We already blurred the lines with them last night, and I don't feel hurt or upset."

Namjoon curls further into himself and cries harder. "I don't deserve you. I don't deserve you, Hoseok. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Hoseok gets up, crawls to Namjoon, and drapes himself over his body. "You deserve the world, baby. You deserve me, and Jeongguk, and Yoongi, and you deserve pleasure. I promise you."

Namjoon shakes his head and continues to sob, and Hoseok repositions himself to spoon Namjoon, holding him through his tears. Hoseok tells himself that he should have expected this, but he hoped that, with what happened last night, Namjoon would be far less devastated. 

Enough time passes that Hoseok begins to feel drowsy, and he wonders if Namjoon is asleep when Namjoon finally sniffles and begins to sit up.

"I need to shower again," he says weakly. 

Hoseok sits up on the floor. He pulls his knees to his chest and hugs them tight, watching Namjoon get onto his feet and shuffle into the bathroom. For the most part, Hoseok feels numb. He wants to console Namjoon, but he's not sure there's much more than he can say, and he doesn't want to upset him further or overwhelm him. 

Once Hoseok hears the shower start, he gets off the floor and walks back to the sofa, where his phone was left. Hoseok's stomach grumbles as he curls onto the monstrosity and checks his phone. 

Jeongguk: I can't tell if Namjoon is okay with what happened. If not, I'm sorry.

This begs questions, although Hoseok can't say he's too shocked if Namjoon held in most of his feelings until he got back to his room. Whatever may have happened, Hoseok can't imagine Namjoon fully blames Jeongguk; otherwise, he wouldn't be so upset.

Hoseok: What exactly did happen?

Jeongguk: He didn't tell you?

Hoseok: Not really. 

Jeongguk: Is he upset?

Hoseok: He's pretty upset. He's taking another shower now.

There's a pause, and then Hoseok's phone rings, showing Jeongguk's name. Hoseok hesitates, then answers it. Before he can say anything, Jeongguk says, "I'll tell you what happened. No need to speak. And if he comes out of the shower, you can just hang up."

Hoseok hums, and Jeongguk continues. "I was really touchy at the gym. Tentatively at first, testing the waters to see if Namjoon would allow it. He allowed it and seemed into it, so I laid it on thicker and thicker, and he flirted back. I thought everything was good. So then, when we went into the showers, I followed him into his stall. I had a towel on, and I hovered in the doorway, asking him to let me in."

Jeongguk sighs, seeming to collect himself. "He let me in, and I begged for a kiss. He hesitated, and I offered to leave, but then he pulled me in and pushed me into the door as he locked it behind me. We kissed until we were both super turned on, and then I begged to suck his cock. He said no, and I begged again, and he said no, so I backed off and said it was fine. But then I guess he changed his mind. We took our towels off our hips, draped them over the door, and I got onto my knees. He seemed like he was into it and happy, but then once post-orgasm clarity hit, he seemed...different. Like a switch had flipped. He wouldn't say much, just stood in the water stream and stared at the floor, and I attempted to console him, but he didn't want it. You okay, Seok?"

Hoseok hums; he is as okay as he can be. Jeongguk continues. "Anyway, I managed to get him to leave the shower and get dressed. I was apologetic, but he just shrugged it off. He said he needed to walk alone and gather his thoughts, so I went another way up a different elevator. I gave him his space. Fuck, Seok, I never would have pushed him if I thought he would feel so guilty."

The sound of the shower curtain opening pulls Hoseok's attention, and he whispers, "Gotta go," and hangs up. Then he texts Jeongguk. 

Hoseok: I'm not surprised he feels guilty, but it's worse than I expected. I'll talk to him and see what he wants to do. I'm not mad at you, but I wish I could have prevented this from happening.

Jeongguk: I feel like an idiot.

Hoseok: You are an idiot. <3

Jeongguk: </3!  We want to get lunch. Maybe if Joonie seems more relaxed, we can get room service and talk?

Hoseok: I'll let you know.

Namjoon comes out of the bathroom, and Hoseok turns to look at him. He wears a towel around his hips while using another towel to dry his hair and walks to the closet. He seems to just stare ahead for a while, and Hoseok clears his throat quietly. 

"Baby, would you be okay with bringing the two of them here to talk things out? We could order room service and—"

"No."

"Oh. O-okay."

Namjoon drops his arm to his side, dangling his towel in his fingers, and he continues to stare at his clothing. "I might look for a flight and go home today." 

Hoseok's heart pounds and everything feels heavy. "Baby, we're going home tomorrow."

"I want to leave now."

Tears well in Hoseok's eyes. He wants to console Namjoon, but he's never seen him shut down like this before, and he doesn't know what to do. 

"Look, I wish you would stay, but if you need to go home now, I won't stop you. Maybe a ferry to Busan would be good? Stay in a hanok overnight and take the train to Seoul in the morning?"

Namjoon nods his head, but they're shallow and noncommittal movements. Hoseok stands and cranes his neck to try to see Namjoon, then makes his way to the closet. Namjoon stares ahead with tears in his eyes, and Hoseok gently pulls the towel from Namjoon's fingers, making him flinch. 

"Joonie," Hoseok says softly but sternly. "How can I prove to you that I'm not upset?"

"I'm upset," Namjoon croaks weakly. "I disappointed myself. I hurt myself. I hurt you and—and Yoongi-hyung."

Hoseok rolls his lips in between his teeth to bite back the urge to make any noise in response to the idea of Namjoon possibly hurting Yoongi, then licks his lips. "I asked Jeongguk, and he told me that Yoongi is not upset."

"But we agreed—we said we would all—" Namjoon inhales a shaky breath and sighs. 

"Listen, I understand that we agreed on that boundary. I know that we all said it was important for all of us to be together. But Yoongi trusts us as much as I trust all of you. I'm not worried about my husband running off to be with another man; whether you feel affection for either of them does not hurt me because we all—to some extent—seem to feel that way about each other."

Namjoon closes his eyes. His breathing is measured and shaky on the exhale. 

"Would you have been hurt if the tables were turned today? If Yoongi met me in the gym and we fooled around, still high from what happened last night."

Namjoon bites his bottom lip and knits his eyebrows. "Maybe," he mutters. "Maybe at first. But maybe not?"

Hoseok swallows a lump, and his voice shakes. He decides that perhaps giving Namjoon a half-truth might help, despite the fact that the entire truth is almost a mirror of what happened in the gym shower. 

"Yoongi and I kissed when he came here."

Namjoon's breath hitches, and he opens his eyes. When he turns to face Hoseok with surprised, pained eyes, Hoseok feels instantly anxious and looks off to the side, squeezing the towel in his hand. 

"We were talking about last night, and about you and Jeongguk, and then we just...looked at each other and then…we kissed. It wasn't terribly heated, but it wasn't innocent, and—and I wanted more. I'm sorry, baby."

Namjoon nods and scoffs, and Hoseok meets his gaze to find something burning, something Namjoon appears to try to blink away. "Good, so none of us are trustworthy. Wow."

"Baby—"

"No. Wow. Thank you for your honesty, Hoseok."

Not Seok, not Seokie, but Hoseok. That one stings.

"Wh-what I mean to say is that we are all still excited about what happened last night, Joon. Because it's the two of us and the two of them, not because we're unfaithful people at heart. I mean, god, how long have we been married?"

Hoseok is panicking. The air twists and contorts in ways that throw Hoseok off balance, and he finds it hard to focus. At this point, he truly doesn't know what to say, and he's terrified of saying too much.

Namjoon finally begins picking out clothing, sliding on a white tee, brown slacks, and a brown cardigan. All the while, Hoseok stares ahead at the shirts hanging in front of him, barely seeing Namjoon in the periphery, watching as the lines of the sleeves hanging together blur in and out of focus. When Namjoon is dressed, he goes into the bathroom, then returns while shoving his phone and wallet into his slacks.

"I'm going to go have lunch and look for a flight or ferry home, and I'll be back to pack a bag," Namjoon says. He doesn't turn back and look at Hoseok. "Good luck with the rest of your stay. Tell the guys I'm sorry."

"Namjoon, wait," Hoseok calls—no—whimpers. He feels weak and suddenly defeated. So, so defeated. 

"I'll text you when I figure it out. And at each stop, so you don't worry."

Tears pour down Hoseok's face, and he tries to blink them away, tries to get his bearings on what is happening, but as the suite door opens and clicks shut, Hoseok feels grounded in place. Hoseok wonders if he should try to chase after Namjoon. But, ultimately, he doesn't make a move. 

Hoseok wakes up in a pile of bodies. It's hot, and he's covered in sweat, and his clothing tugs and indents uncomfortably around his waist and thighs. Yoongi stirs and releases his hold around Hoseok's back, allowing Hoseok to sit up. He sucks in drool and mutters a weak "S-sorry," to Jeongguk, whose shirt is too dark to reveal the size of the wet spot.

"You cried all over me, baby; a little drool is nothing," Jeongguk says, and Hoseok weakly nods. 

Noise from the television can faintly be heard, and Hoseok squints through sleepy eyes. "What's this?"

"Some old western," Yoongi responds as he sits back and crosses one leg over the other, which is how Jeongguk sits. Hoseok straightens himself out and then pulls his knees to his chest. 

"Thank you guys," Hoseok mutters, staring at the white comforter covering their bed. 

"Are you hungry?" Yoongi asks. 

A large palm rubs circles into Hoseok's back. He's inclined to think it's Yoongi's hand, but he's not quite awake enough to tell. "Yeah."

"Good," Jeongguk says, running a finger along Hoseok's cheek and neck. "We ordered a bunch of shit; it should be here any minute. Also, uh...Joon-hyung texted you to say he landed in Seoul about ten minutes ago."

"Th-thanks."

Hoseok was still crumpled on the floor when Namjoon came to pack his suitcase, and he didn't speak a word until, while in the open doorway, he said, "I love you, Seok. Safe travels tomorrow."

Yoongi and Jeongguk kept their distance until he was gone, and once they had the go-ahead, they came to get Hoseok and bring him back to their room for a cry session that exhausted Hoseok until he fell asleep. Everything piled on at once and felt too heavy to carry, and Hoseok let it all out. Now he just feels numb. 

Room service comes shortly after Hoseok wakes up, and they sit around their table, passing around plates of steak, seafood, vegetables, rice, and noodles. Yoongi fills everyone's glasses with wine, and they eat and drink quietly. It's still light outside, probably just mid-afternoon. 

"Seokie, baby, do you wanna get high and forget about everything for a bit?" Yoongi asks.

"High how?"

Jeongguk leans forward, elbows on the table. "Ecstasy."

Hoseok doesn't do drugs—being an employee of the government and all—but he has in the past, and the idea entices him. Maybe, for the next 8 to 12 hours, it would be nice to just feel euphoric and let go. Hoseok nods his head. It's still daytime, his flight is tomorrow evening, and they don't anticipate getting any more actual work done, so...why not.

Hoseok nods. "Sure. That sounds fun."

"Yeah?" Yoongi asks, sounding shocked. 

Hoseok shrugs.

Jeongguk gets up, walks over to some luggage across the room, and starts unzipping zippers. Hoseok pokes at his food, drinks his wine, and tries to feel a little excited for what's to come, but it's tough to feel anything at all, so he just doesn't. 

When Jeongguk returns, they inspect the little pink pills with a beloved cartoon character stamped on the front, and Jeongguk mutters something about how sometimes it's beneficial to have a drug lord father-in-law. The three of them touch their pills together over the center of the table as if they're shots of liquor, and stick them on their tongues. 

The pill is bitter and tastes repulsive, and Hoseok lets it sit for just a moment to bask in the awfulness before he chases it down with the rest of his wine. The waiting period between swallowing a drug and feeling a drug is always filled with anxiety—anticipation putting every nerve on edge—so Hoseok goes back to picking at his food, so he doesn't overthink it too much. Nobody has much to say; probably the others are feeling the same way, but Hoseok doesn't mind the silence.

Several minutes pass, and Yoongi's voice breaks the silence. "Would you ever swap bodies and fuck yourself?"

Hoseok looks up to find Yoongi looking at Jeongguk, but then his gaze turns to Hoseok. Hoseok shrugs. "I guess so. I don't see why not."

Jeongguk nods. "I would lick my pussy."

Yoongi nods and chuckles. His eyes look a bit glazed over and far away. "Nice. I would. I would fuck the shit out of me."

"You should use my body to fuck yourself," Jeongguk suggests.

Yoongi takes a long, finishing gulp of wine and reaches for the bottle, dumping the rest of it into his glass, filling it a little over halfway. Two full, recorked bottles sit in the center of the table, and Hoseok finishes his glass, then reaches for one of the full bottles.

"I'm suggesting it because I think we should put Seokie back in your body and take care of him," Yoongi says. Hoseok's eyes fly between Yoongi and Jeongguk, who share a glance and then turn to Hoseok.  Yoongi smiles sweetly. "Would you like that, baby?"

Hoseok licks his lips. He knows he should put a stop to this affair and prevent further damage to his relationship. But he's already come so far, and he's about to come up on drugs. What's once more?

"Yes, daddy."

Once the choice is made, they quickly shuffle over to the penthouse suite. Although there is plenty of time to jump before the drugs have a chance to kick in, they do not want to risk anything weird happening. A staff member stands idly while Yoongi performs the jump himself, and Hoseok decides that, while it is pretty fucking sus, he has bigger fish to fry than to keep asking why people let the Mins do whatever they want.

The jump is easy—so easy that Hoseok actually fears that nothing happened, just for a moment. But then he sits up and looks to his left and sees his body lying there and lets out a huge, deep sigh of relief. Once the men get their bearings, they thank the staff—who said and did nothing to assist them—and shuffle back to Yoongi and Jeongguk's suite. As soon as they arrive, the room feels foggy and air is a bit light.

"Whoa," Hoseok mutters as he stumbles back to the bed. "I think it's happening."

"Good, baby," Yoongi says sweetly from behind Hoseok. He runs his hands up Hoseok's back, making Hoseok flinch and then sink into the feeling, and when Hoseok groans, he remembers he's in Jeongguk's body. He tells himself that Yoongi's hand runs up Jeongguk's back, and when arousal licks between his legs, Hoseok feels beyond excited that it's between Jeongguk's legs that he feels the familiar tingle. 

"Let's get you out of these clothes, okay, baby?" Yoongi asks, wrapping his arms around Jeongguk's torso, gripping Jeongguk's stomach tightly in one hand while the other goes down between Jeongguk's legs and rubs his pussy.

Hoseok feels Jeongguk's legs tremble beneath him, and he gasps. It feels so good, like Yoongi has somehow lit hundreds of tiny fireworks inside him, and Hoseok arches Jeongguk's back and rubs Jeongguk's ass over Yoongi's cock. When Yoongi groans a deep, raspy sound, Hoseok melts against his chest. 

"Please, daddy," Hoseok whines in a voice deeper than he's used to. "Please, I need you."

Jeongguk gets onto the bed wearing only briefs, and he sits in the center against the headboard and pats his legs. Hoseok is stunned at the sight of himself and clambers onto the bed. Jeongguk's limbs feel heavy and wobbly, but Hoseok does his best crawling between his own legs. 

"I want you to suck your pretty dick, baby," Jeongguk says, smirking at Hoseok. "Let me see what my perfect lips look like around your shaft."

Hoseok wonders if this counts as selfcest and whether it's ethical to suck his own cock, but decides that he still doesn't feel weird about it and tugs his briefs down. Hoseok knows what his cock looks like, but it's strange seeing it from this angle, and when he licks up the shaft, he's pleasantly surprised by his taste.

"F-fuck," Jeongguk whines in Hoseok's voice. "I'm still not used to how this feels."

Hoseok licks his cock, then begins to tease the tip. His mind is floating in the clouds, and he feels like melting, but he does his best to stay in solid form to fellate himself while his voice moans and whimpers in pleasure above him. Hands are on Jeongguk's hips, pulling his sweats down, and Hoseok makes sure to wiggle Jeongguk's ass for Yoongi as he's undressed. 

Yoongi gets Jeongguk's pants to his knees before spreading him with his hands and licking over Jeongguk's pussy and ass, and the feeling sends wave after wave of pleasure so intense that Hoseok worries he might collapse. 

"F-fuck, I'm still not used to how this feels," Hoseok whines. 

All feelings that aren't pleasure melt away. Yoongi licks and caresses in slow, deliberate movements that cause Hoseok to suck and lick in a similar rhythm, steadily building and drawing out arousal, as if they have all the time in the world and there's no need to rush. Hoseok thinks he's in love, thinks he could be sandwiched between the two of them for eternity—thinks the way he feels electrified is enough to cure all his pain and worries. But he knows it's the drugs; they're hitting him really hard. 

Time and space operate differently, and as eternities pass in seconds, Jeongguk whines about feeling like he's going to come. Hoseok is so focused on Jeongguk that he doesn't feel the build quite as strongly, but the feeling of Yoongi's mouth is still so perfect and inviting that he lets it be this way, at least until he can swallow down the load that Jeongguk keeps trying to warn him about. 

Hoseok sucks his cheeks in, and Jeongguk squeals, a pitchy nasally sound that Hoseok is all too familiar with making, and Jeongguk grabs his own hair tightly as he holds his head in place and fucks into his throat. Hoseok keeps Jeongguk's jaw relaxed and takes everything given to him, and when Jeongguk comes in his throat, Hoseok swallows it proudly, litters kisses on his cock and thighs, and thanks Jeongguk for coming for him. 

As soon as Hoseok is finished focusing on his task, the overwhelming, shaky euphoria returns, and it feels like a dam has been broken, causing the pleasure to flood in. Hoseok falls forward on his thighs and whines as Jeongguk runs fingers through his hair and tells him what a good boy he is. He doesn't have a chance to whine about feeling like he might come before it rushes over him, and he comes hard. All he can do is whimper "Please" and "Thank you" over and over. 

Yoongi's languid movements are heaven, and though Hoseok feels like the orgasm begins to wind down, it keeps coming, never stopping. It's too much, and Hoseok begins to worry he might experience a full mental collapse if it continues, but he doesn't want it to end. But then it does end. Yoongi stops, and Hoseok whines, even though he can still feel traces of pleasure tingle between Jeongguk's legs.

"I want you to sit on my face," Yoongi says as he crawls to the head of the bed and lays next to where Jeongguk sits. "Can you do that for me, baby?"

Hoseok looks up to see Yoongi talking to him and nods weakly. Limbs are still gelatin and so heavy, but Hoseok manages to shimmy Jeongguk's calves out of his pants, get out from between his legs and crawl to Yoongi. Yoongi pulls his shirt off and tosses it aside, and Hoseok sits up on Yoongi's hips and runs Jeongguk's hands up and down his body.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Hoseok mutters. 

Yoongi smiles at Hoseok affectionately, then looks at Jeongguk, reaches a hand to pet Hoseok's cheek, and says, "You're beautiful too, baby."

Hoseok's breath hitches. He wants to be beautiful in Yoongi's eyes. He wants it so badly. Jeongguk leans down and kisses Yoongi deeply. Both men moan, and Yoongi reaches up to grip Hoseok's shirt to hold Jeongguk close. 

"Your lips taste so good, Seokie," Yoongi whines against his mouth, and Hoseok gasps again. He can't begin to explain the euphoria he feels, despite not being able to experience the kiss that Yoongi shares with his lips. Jeongguk pulls out of the kiss and sits up. He removes Hoseok's shirt and crawls down to where Hoseok is, near Yoongi's hips. 

"Kiss me," Jeongguk whines, and Hoseok leans down and kisses him—kisses himself. Hoseok likes how Jeongguk kisses, spinning his tongue gently while moaning. Jeongguk sucks on his bottom lip and smiles against him when he moans, and Hoseok thinks once more that he must be in love, though he knows that it's as effect of the drugs; they're still hitting him really hard. 

Yoongi's hands rub up Jeongguk's thighs, and Hoseok whines. He remembers he was supposed to sit on Yoongi's face. Hoseok pulls from the kiss, and Jeongguk nods toward Yoongi to signal Hoseok to go and Hoseok chuckles. He suddenly feels shy, though he has no reason to, especially since he's not even in his own skin—especially since he's in skin that Yoongi loves and has memorized a thousand times over. 

"Get over here, baby," Yoongi says, and Hoseok does as he's told. It's awkward to crawl up his chest and kneel around his head, but Hoseok gets where Yoongi needs to be, and Yoongi wraps his arms around Jeongguk's thighs to guide Hoseok right to where he wants him. 

Yoongi wastes no time going back to work on Jeongguk's pussy, and Hoseok falls forward into the headboard, doing his best to angle Jeongguk's hips to not suffocate Yoongi. Yoongi seems unbothered—like he's done this many times before—and Hoseok closes Jeongguk's eyes and gets lost in the shimmering, all-encompassing pleasure once more. 

A gasp followed by a deep, raspy whimper comes from Yoongi, and Hoseok looks back as best as he can to see Jeongguk sucking Yoongi's cock. He wishes he could get a better look at his own lips around Yoongi, taking Yoongi's shaft into his own throat. Yoongi's tongue pulls Hoseok back into Jeongguk's body, and this time he licks and sucks fast and hard like he wants Hoseok to crumble and come as soon as possible. Hoseok wonders if he can handle coming again or if it might be enough to stop Jeongguk's heart. 

Yoongi pulls his mouth away and says, "Grind your hips down on me."

"Huh?" Hoseok asks, feeling suddenly very dizzy. 

"Rub your pussy on my tongue and make yourself come."

Hoseok gives Jeongguk's hips a tentative swish against Yoongi's tongue, and although it's not the right spot, it feels good. He leans into the headboard and tries again, angling Jeongguk's hips down a little, and when Jeongguk's clit rubs on Yoongi's tongue, Hoseok trembles and whines. 

"Oh," Hoseok says, realizing he can do this. "Okay."

It's awkward at first to swirl Jeongguk's hips and chase his own high, but once Hoseok finds a rhythm, he gets lost in it—completely swept away. Yoongi moans and whines while he keeps his mouth open for Hoseok, only occasionally sucking on Jeongguk's clit when he finds it in Hoseok's rhythm to do so. It's not as fast as a build as it was before, but it's exhilarating. Hoseok envies Jeongguk for getting to ride Yoongi's face often. Then, Hoseok feels silly about being envious and tries not to think about it right now—tries not to think about anything right now, which is impossible because all his mind can do is feel overstimulated and race.

Hoseok feels overwhelmed. So, so fucking overwhelmed. He leans into the headboard more and struggles to move Jeongguk's hips. Yoongi pulls him close and goes back to work on Jeongguk's clit, and Hoseok whines and shakes. There's an external shakiness that spreads throughout, but there's also an internal shakiness, like all the blood in Jeongguk's body is being pulled by magnets. Like he's full of glitter, and it's all shimmering under intense bright light. 

"I don't know if I can come again," Hoseok whines. "I'm too—I'm so—intense. It's too intense."

"Wanna lay down, baby?" Jeongguk asks. 

Hoseok nods and sits back, and Jeongguk and Yoongi somehow manage to get Hoseok onto the bed but not without creating a big, weird tangle of bodies. Once they shimmy around, Yoongi and Jeongguk lay Hoseok down and litter kisses all over his—Jeongguk's—face and neck and chest, and Hoseok giggles and pants. He's so sweaty; maybe he's even melting. Maybe he'll evaporate and disappear into the bed completely. 

"I can't stay hard anyway," Yoongi mutters against Jeongguk's clavicle. "I don't know why I thought sex while coming up was wise. I was just excited to make you come."

Hoseok feels sad for Yoongi. "We'll make you come, I promise," he whines, and Yoongi chuckles. 

"Baby, it's okay," Yoongi assures.

"I might need to go outside," Hoseok says, sitting up and shedding Jeongguk and Yoongi from him. Hot. He feels so hot. 

"We can shower," Yoongi suggests. 

A shower sounds good. So they shower. It's cramped and awkward, but they touch and hold and kiss, and Jeongguk and Yoongi focus most of their attention on Hoseok. When the water feels too cold, and his high starts to feel more evened out and less internally chaotic, they return to their wine and share a full bottle while swaying and dancing around the room to music Yoongi plays from a laptop. 

Hoseok sometimes thinks about Namjoon, and he hopes that Namjoon is feeling relaxed and getting the clarity he needs. Hoseok knows that no matter what Namjoon chooses, he will accept. Even if it breaks him. Even if it shatters him into a million pieces, and he loses some of them and is never able to fully heal. He knows he'll have to let Namjoon do what he needs to because he's the one who fucked up. 

Hoseok tries to tear his thoughts away from Namjoon, but it's hard to. When they're in a pile on the bed, hands stroking hair and breaths gasping a whimpering, it's hard not to think about Namjoon. 

When they fuck again, over and over again, tangling their three bodies in ways that makes Hoseok dizzy and sore, he thinks about Namjoon. When they collapse into a sweating, writhing, sticky mess of intertwined limbs and exhaustion, he thinks about Namjoon. He thinks about how fucked everything is and how much he wishes he could just make it alright. But he knows he wouldn't go back and change a thing because he's so, so deeply infatuated with Yoongi that he can't imagine his life now without him. He can't imagine never jumping into Jeongguk's body again. 

It's 4 am when Namjoon calls. Hoseok rolls out of bed in a sleepy search for his phone on the bedside table, but as he reaches for it with Jeongguk's tattooed hand, he realizes that he shouldn't answer it. How would he explain being jumped at this hour. Instead, he stares at Namjoon's photo on his phone, at his name in bright white letters across the top. Yoongi grumbles, and Hoseok realizes he never silenced the ringer and whispers, "Sorry."

Silence and darkness fill the room once more, and Hoseok sits on the floor holding his phone in Jeongguk's hands. He feels deflated, like a balloon filled to the brink of explosion, then let go to fly around the room as all the air pushes itself out, leaving him a vacant, hollow shell of unwanted, shimmering latex. Hoseok's screen brightens once more with a message, and when he reads it, his heart drops. The vines around his ribs clench so tightly that cracks begin to form. 

Namjoon: I know it's 4, but I can't sleep. I told myself that if you picked up, we could talk it over, and I could begin to heal. But maybe it's for the best that we have some space. I'm going to stay with family for a while in Ilsan. I don't know when I'll be back. I'll call when I'm ready. Love you, Seok. Safe travels. 

💛😰

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[scapegrace74-blog]

Ginger Snap, Chapter 6

A/N  Well, here it is.  The last chapter of Ginger Snap.   As an unplanned fic inspired by a vanity license plate, I’m happy with how it turned out.   There will be a short epilogue posted in the next week or so.  In the meantime,  thank you so much for coming on this unexpected ride with me!   This chapter’s themed title is Fire in the Belly.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my AO3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

The next five months were some of the most difficult of my life.  

After our talk, Frank and I agreed that it would be best that we parted ways.  The Southside flat was close to the university, plus I’d never truly felt at home there, so it made sense for him to keep it.  Fortunately, we’d never combined our savings and I still had money tucked away from my time as a medical resident in Boston.

Geillis wanted me to move into her sprawling Murrayfield home, at least temporarily, but I knew that I needed a place of my own.  To stand on my own two feet, as it were.   Which was how I found myself moving my few belongings into a modest Morningside walk-up as the rest of Edinburgh celebrated Hogmanay with fireworks and drunken revelry.

I scheduled the written component of my medical licensing exam for February.  This was likely foolhardy, but I’d already wasted enough time.  As a result, almost every waking hour was dedicated to studying.  The flat remained an empty box whose naked beige walls bore witness to my rudimentary existence.

Geillis called regularly, reminding me to eat and to occasionally step outside for a breath of fresh air.  Returning up the high street from one of our weekly coffee dates, a bright flash in a shop window caught my eye.

I stopped and stared as the afternoon sun lit the vase like a shard of stained glass.  It was a profound shade of blue: the colour of a field of indigo, of the night sky in a Byzantine icon, of Jamie’s eyes when he laughed.  It sat on my windowsill, filled with the season’s first daffodils, as I pored over practice exams.

***

“Geillis, I passed!  I fucking passed!”  An elderly woman seated across from me on the bus muttered under her breath about vulgar Sassenachs, but I was too elated to care.

“Of course ye did, ye brilliant disaster.  Now I can brag tae the neighbours I have my own personal physician.”

“Not so fast, Duncan.  I still need to pass the clinical exam, and that’s no small thing.”  My gut twisted just thinking about it, but unlike the written exam, there was little I could do to prepare.  Either I knew how to perform as a doctor or I did not.  The long months since I’d last treated a patient loomed like a large shadow over that question.

“Och, yer bum’s oot the window Claire,” my friend dismissed blithely.  “Ye’re gonna do great.  When do ye head down tae yer homeland, then?”

“May first.”  The practical examination took place in Manchester and needed to be scheduled three months in advance.

“Sounds like ye’ve got some time on yer hands.  Whate’er are ye going tae do with yerself?” Geillis asked in a singsong voice.

Fortunately for me, spring was Edinburgh’s most pleasant season.  Its many gardens and laneways erupted in carpets of buds and blooms.  The air smelled fresh and green, like biting into a tart apple.  I took long walks and fell in love with the city I now called home.  There were secondhand bookstores to explore and a weekly craft market where I gradually amassed an assortment of items that made my flat feel like a home.  With each passing day, my existence felt more and more like a life; one I defined for myself.

I also started to explore my options for employment, hoping for a job offer from one of the city’s hospitals that was conditional upon my successful completion of the licensing process.  It was to that end that I found myself walking down the corridor of The Royal Edinburgh hospital after what I hoped had been a rather successful interview with the deputy director of surgery.

“Claire?”

I recognized her voice immediately.  Before turning around I closed my eyes and sent out a fervent appeal to the universe.

“Jenny, hi.  How are you?”

She looked just the same, her straight black hair such a contrast to her brother.  Next to her stood a man, but not the man I had conjured the moment I heard her voice.  I was unclear whether that meant my prayer had been answered or not.  Seeing my gaze stray, Jenny jumped to introductions.

“This is my husband, Ian.  We’re here fer treatment on his leg.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.”  

“Jes a fitting fer a new prosthetic.  Jenny keeps beatin’ me o’er the head with the old one, ye see.”  I laughed, instantly liking his easy-going manner, so in contrast with Jenny’s intensity.

“Ye must be the Claire I hear sae much about,” he went on, and I wondered what had been said about me in the Fraser household.

“Nothing bad, I hope.”

Ian smiled warmly.  “Only good things, I promise ye.”

“What brings ye tae the hospital, Claire?” Jenny interjected.

I explained how I was in the process of qualifying to practice medicine in Scotland, provided I could pass my exams.  Jenny and Ian were both delighted, congratulating me as though I’d already accomplished my goal.  As we spoke about Wee Jamie’s latest exploits and the ongoing growth of Ginger Snap, I couldn’t help notice that Jenny was staring at my hands.  At my left hand in particular.  Finally, I couldn’t resist temptation any longer.

“And, how is Jamie doing?”  I tried to sound casual, but I was certain my faltering voice betrayed me.

“Very well,” Jenny replied.  “Busy, as ye can imagine, but he thrives on chaos.”

I nodded, trying to be satisfied with the news that he was well.  It was the most I could hope for, really.  Jenny eyed me shrewdly before continuing.

“He’s a good man, my brother.  Any lass would be verra lucky tae have him.  I’d like tae see him settled, but he refuses tae be rushed.  Says the right woman is worth the wait.”  She paused before adding,  “I reckon ye ken wha’ he means.”

“Yes,” I breathed.  “I know exactly what he means.”

***

I took the overnight train from Edinburgh to Manchester.  It meant I was likely to arrive at the testing centre deprived of sleep, but I rationalized that most of my residency could be characterized as one long evaluation under similar conditions, and I hadn’t killed anyone yet.  Still, as the velvety darkness slipped by outside my window, studded by the lights of passing farms, my doubts got the better of me.

I texted Geillis, looking for moral support.  For once she didn’t reply immediately.  There was one other name on my laughably short list of contacts.  I deliberated for all of a minute, but the late hour and creeping panic made me impulsive.

Hello.

Best to start with something innocuous, rather than the slightly more revealing “I miss you.  I think about you every day.”  A reply bubble appeared immediately after I hit send.  At least I hadn’t woken him up.  A small tempest stirred in my gut.

Arsonist.  Hello.  How are you?

I tried to picture him.  Was he at home?  Working late?  Or, in a scenario that played out far too often in my mind, on a date?

I’m alright.  Well, to be honest, I feel like I’m going to puke and cry.  Not necessarily in that order.

Och, lass.  Do you need me to come over?

Damn it, this man.  I had done nothing to deserve his unswerving loyalty but mislead him and then disappear for months on end.  And yet here he was, willing to come to my aid on the flimsy pretext of a late night text.  Guilt and tenderness warred for possession of my heart.

That may prove a bit difficult, Jamie.  I’m on a train to England.

There was a long pause, and then a two letter reply.

Oh.

I realized at once that he’d leapt to the wrong conclusion: that I had left Edinburgh for good.  I rushed to correct the error.

I’m taking the second stage of my examination to practice as a NHS doctor tomorrow.   It’s all hands-on situations, and the licensing facility is in Manchester.

Arsonist, that’s wonderful news!  I’m so proud of you.

I blushed, then leaned my heated cheek against the chilled pane of glass.  It had been a rash impulse, but this conversation was exactly what I needed.  I wasn’t alone in this.  Geillis and Jamie were in my corner.

What has your stomach in a twist, then?

What if I’ve forgotten what to do?!  It’s been almost a year since I’ve so much as used a stethoscope, Jamie.  The exam is eighteen real-life situations and you’re given eight minutes to respond to each one.  Not a second longer.  I’m just...  what if I fail?

And there it was.  The kernel of fear that lived at the heart of everything I did.  What if I failed?   What if my best wasn’t good enough?

Claire, listen to me.  You’re a doctor, just as I am a chef.  It wouldn’t matter if I had not set foot in a kitchen in ten years, I would still remember how to cook, and I know that it’s the same for you.  I believe it with everything in me.

On some level, I knew that he was right.  But it still comforted me tremendously to hear it from someone I trusted.

Alright.  That helps.  I should let you get to bed.  Thank you for talking me off my ledge, Jamie.

Anytime, Arsonist.

As I got ready sign off, another text bubble appeared.

Oh, and Claire?  Don’t burn down their wee laboratory, okay? ;-)

I laughed out loud, muting my phone and reclining my seat.  Outside, the stars shone brightly, tiny fires in the firmament to guide me on my way.

***

It was a lovely late spring day, and the retractable doors to the fire station were open to the warm breeze.  I could hear Angus’ voice as he led a cooking demonstration for a group of young women; a bridal shower by the look of their ridiculous costumes.

“Mind the coriander, lass.  Tis a verra powerful aphrodisiac, ken?  I willna be held responsible if ye canna resist my considerable charms after ye eat yon soup.”

There was an outburst of giggles as I rounded the corner and entered the reception area.  Jenny was on the phone.  She halted mid-sentence when she saw me walk in.  I rubbed my hands down the front of my jeans, trying to stay calm.

“He’s in the storeroom, in the back,” Jenny prompted before I could even offer a greeting.  I smiled gratefully, relieved I didn’t have to make small talk.  I had only so much courage stored in reserve, and I didn’t want to use it all up before reaching my destination.

The storeroom was long and narrow, lit by a single naked bulb and girded with shelves.  Jamie stood with his broad back to the door, his curls absorbing the light like amber.  He had a clipboard in one hand, performing some kind of inventory.

“Jes how many lentils dae ye reckon we need, Janet?  There’s nine cans of them here already, and ye have us ordering ten more.”

I’d almost forgotten how much I loved his voice, the undulating grit and silk of it.  I had to remaster the art of speech before I could reply.

“It’s not Jenny.  It’s me.  Claire.”

He froze, and if it weren’t for the sudden rapid flow of his breath I would have assumed he hadn’t heard me.  My nerves got the better of me and I blurted out, “I like lentils.  You should listen to your sister.”

“Claire.”  More sigh than word.  He slowly turned.  It was when our eyes met that I knew nothing had changed for him.  It was still there, after all these months.  That look that told me I was the map to his journey, the focus to his vision, the reason to his why.  

Hopefully he could read that same certainty on my face.

“I passed my exams,” I began.  “I’m a doctor again.”

“Ye never stopped bein’ a doctor.  This jus’ makes it official.”

“I’m still a disaster in the kitchen,” I continued.  “Last week I ruined two saucepans.”

“Tha’s only a tragedy if ye dinna have someone willin’ tae cook fer ye,” he replied with a strange squinting motion I understood was meant to be a wink.

“I’m still learning who I am.  How to be true to the person on the inside,” I confessed.  This is what had kept me away for so long, worried that I would escape from Frank’s orbit just to be caught up in another.  Jamie never once expected my submission, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t offer it out of habit.

“I’ll let ye in on a secret.  Sae is everyone else,” he replied.

Without realizing it, we’d both been moving until we were crowded together amongst the dried herbs and canned goods.  My hand rested against the solid metronome of his heart.  Just one more confession to go.

“I burn for you in a way I’ve never burned for anything before.”

There.  It was said.  A thousand wings of rapture beat against the cage of my ribs, clamoring to break free.  Jamie carefully pushed a loose curl behind my ear before cupping my jaw.

“Wee arsonist.  Come, set my life on fire.”

[fruitpunchninja101]

Flowers For You

After a small spat at the merchants assembly, Levi was determined to avoid Hange and her flower shop at all costs. Unfortunately, The funny thing about trying to avoid someone is that you have to have a rough approximation of their daily routine. And so, his quest began.

Written for LeviHan Eggschange 2021 @levihanweek​

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Hello my dear giftee! I’m sorry if your gift took a while! I hope you'd enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed making it. Keep safe!♥

“Every plant can do this fundamental process, and we call this Photosynthesis.”

Cheery voices of kids boomed in celebration as soon as they finished singing.

Ever since summer break started, the flower shop in front of his store started a “Horticulture Camp” for little kids. At first, He didn’t really pay much attention to the cacophony of loud cheers and noises but as days passed, customers would leave little comments like “Sure does sound like a daycare in there.” or “Your neighbor sounds like they're having a lot of fun in there huh?”

The thought about confronting the owner of the flower shop did cross his mind, but there's a little problem, they had a little bit of a spat at the shop keeps assembly last month.

Okay, he'll admit it, maybe It's not just a spat, It's more like a full blown passive aggressive squabble. His memory of the event was a little hazy but he recalled raising his concern about the dried leaves that keeps blowing over his store. Something about her nonchalance about his concern and something about his word choice led to a disastrous mistranslation of what he really wanted to say which somehow escalated to a kerfuffle. "You and Hange will be the hot topic of the whole merchants block for a good while." Erwin warned him after the assembly. Tch! He certainly didn't need that kind of attention.

Since then, Levi kept his distance from that damn flower shop and focused on minding his own business. He is determined to avoid this Hange at all costs! Unfortunately, The funny thing about trying to avoid someone is that you have to have a rough approximation of their daily routine. And so, his quest began.

#

Hange's schedule was never consistent.

Sometimes she'd open her shop so late that her students would start rough housing by the sidewalk waiting for her arrival. Their parents would wait by her store too and they were seemingly too charmed by her to get annoyed about her tardiness. By the time she gets there the kids would immediately run towards her climbing on her limbs but she never seemed to mind. Those kids eyes would shine so bright at her , he’s pretty sure he’d go blind if he kept on staring at them.

She never seemed to eat lunch for some reason. Sometimes, the son of the deli owner at the corner of their street, Moblit , would come by to bring her food. There was a time when he thought the guy was courting her but he can tell by that sad longing stare he gives at her when he leaves her shop that Hange had no fucking clue about his intentions.

She never brings an umbrella even when it rains. She just runs across the street donning a hoodie. Which she would continue to wear all throughout the day. She’d definitely get sick if she doesn't dry herself up properly. If the rain is still pouring by the time she closes up her store, Hange would spend a good minute to stare at the night sky marveling at the little droplets like its the first time she ever saw one in her life. Nights like that , he would close up a little late to make sure she's gone before he leaves.

Observing her became a routine at this point.

During warm sunny days, she would wear a brightly colored shirt underneath her overalls. Unfortunately, the shirt seemed to be the only thing she changes regularly. He can tell it's the same overalls because it still has all the stains in the same place as the day before. Her best record was 5 days without washing the damned thing and he can't tell if that's impressive or disgusting.

When the kids aren't around, Hange would dote on her plants until late hours of the day. He'd watch her methodically arrange flowers and pour all her love and care to every bouquet she makes. All the while ignoring the fact that she haven't had food at all. ( He knows because Moblit recently got a girlfriend and since then , he only drops by the flower shop to pick up orders for his new love interest.) All he ever see her consume are cups of coffee and not even the good stuff. Just the regular instant kind from the grocery. Days like that , he hopes that she would at least stop by a convenience store to pick up something to eat.

It didn't take too long for him to consider that maybe Hange isn't an asshole at all.She's just one of those people who gets easily preoccupied with things that pique her interest is all. To hell with her health, appearance or even basic cleanliness. Its frustrating but at the same time its a relief to know that underneath all that nuttiness is a seemingly good person.

He was just closing up shop one night when he noticed her still sitting in her store as she practiced playing the Photosynthesis song on her guitar.She was surrounded by an array of beautiful flowers and in that dim light, he could've sworn she looked like a scruffy forest diety.

And it was at that point when he realized that a smile is creeping up his lip. What the fuck was that about?

As if hearing his thoughts, Hange's head perked up from her guitar and turned towards him. He froze as soon as their eyes met. She gave him a tight lipped smile and at that, Panic shot through him. He immediately turned away from her and rushed to turn off the lights and closed his store.

#

Days after that encounter, Levi had to resist the urge to spare even a peek over her shop. he didn't like that sometimes his mind would wander to images of her that night. He probably overdid his little investigation is all! He had to stop watching her schedule anyway , he had all the information he needs at this point.

However, her presence never seemed to leave him. He'd still overhear the rhythm of her guitar and the rambunctious laughter from her little campers. Even Eld and Gunther are starting to warm up to it. "There's something about the sound of children having fun that puts me at ease." He heard Eld reason out to Gunther the other day. Even Oluo who once mentioned his irritation with the constant singing is starting to absentmindedly hum the damn song.

He's ready to let the whole thing go but when a loud crashing sound (which is probably another pot broken by a child.) caused Petra to make a small uneven line on her work , he knew he had to do something. Even if these type of mistakes are easily fixed, precision is utterly important in his business and he can't have random nuisances ruining his reputation. He'll do it tomorrow. NO! He'll do it tonight! There's no use to delay the inevitable.

Odd enough, he did wonder if she even knew his name.

Tch.

#

Levi was just closing up his shop that night when he heard someone open the door. Accepting late night jobs Isnt new to him but he did commit to speaking with Hange about his concerns so he let out an absent minded “We're closed” warning before realizing who entered his shop.

It’s her.

She wore an oversized green overalls paired with battered up chucks that he bet was once white. Her brown mop of hair was tied messily up on her head. He didn’t miss the huge ass bouquet tucked in her arm as she struggled to get through his door.

“A little help?” She said, as if they didn’t had a spat that literally had them screaming at each other infront of other people. Levi paused cleaning his tattoo gun and hurried to help her. ”What are you doing here at this hour?” He asked genuinely out of curiosity than irritation.

”I just wanna give you these.” She beamed as she let go of the huge bunch for him to carry inside. “The kids got a little carried away with their flower arrangements today and I’d feel awful if I have to throw it out.” She continued.

“You think dumping this monstrosity to me is the solution?” He asked, immediately regretting his word choice.

“Monstrosity?!”Hange placed her hand on her chest playfully feigning mortification and shock.

He rolled his eyes at her and was a bit surprised that Hange chuckled at him and leisurely walked past him to take a seat at one of the stools by his register and started innocently looking around his shop seemingly waiting on him for a conversation. "Neat place you got here." She said.

"Thanks?" He said genuinely confused what she's doing here. Although, He did wonder if it has something to do with that awkward encounter they had the other night. He really hoped she already forgot about that. “What are these for?” He asked as he opened the cupboards hopelessly trying to look for a vase somewhere in his shop.

“I was gonna ask you for a favor.” She replied.

He scoffed. “what makes you think I’d help you.”

“It’s for a good cause! Plus,I was thinking it’s your opportunity to make up with that whole assembly incident we had.”

He paused and glared daggers at her. She still have that goofy smile on her face. “That dumb assembly incident was not something I want to make up with.” He said stubbornly.

Hange rolled her eyes at him. “Oh please you were angry over a few dried pieces of leaves in front of my store it’s hardly even your business.”

“Your leaves are blowing over my store front so yes it was my business.”

“You know I run a flower shop right? These things happen. I cant just wait outside my store and catch all the falling leaves for your convenience.” Her voice slightly raised as if she’s explaining something so obvious to him. Of course he knows these things happen, he’s not an idiot. All he wants is for her to take responsibility and not be so nonchalant over it.

“You don’t even...” He closed his mouth. She's starting to get a rise from him and it made him queasy. It's not even worth it. He closed his eyes to calm himself.

“Look, the favor isn’t even for me.” She started. Her tone of aggressiveness gone. ”Just hear me out please?” Her voice sounded gentle and warm this time. She’s so hot and cold it’s starting to drive him insane.

He opened his eyes and was met with her brown orbs that shone bright behind her dirty glasses. “Go ahead.” He said defeatedly avoiding her pleading eyes and proceeded to turn back to his cupboard. He should just let her say her piece and move on.

“It’s for one of my campers actually.”

“Hn.Which one? the brunette kid that shouts a lot?”

“Oh you know Eren?”

“He always sticks his snotty face up on my window how can I forget.”

“Yeah, That kid adores you you know , he asked about you and what you guys do here a couple of times before. He even threw fits because he wanted to get a tattoo from you.”

He scoffed. ”How is that my problem?”

”You see, his little friend Armin loved the camp but is a little too shy for his own good. He won’t attend sessions without Eren who sort of refused to attend til you tattoo something on him.”

“So you want me to tattoo a child? ”He turned from his fruitless quest for a vase on his cupboard to raise a brow at her.

“Not a real one, just one of those temporary tattoo stickers.”

He scratched the back of his head and let out a sigh. It would be easier to complain to her about the noise of she owed him some sort of favor. Right? "Alright." He said.

She surged out of her seat and gave out a small yelp startling him. "You'd do it? Really?" Her eyes seemed brighter now.

“Yeah sure." He said as he marveled at how expressive her eyes were. He willed himself to tear his eyes from her damn face. "Is there anything else?” He asked.

“Yes.” She replied enthusiastically.

“You are really pushing your luck here four eyes.”

She chuckled at that and pushed her glasses a bit higher up her nose. ”Don't worry, this one isn't a favor. More like a friendly advice."

He raised a brow at her. "What?"

"Put those in cold water. They'd last longer that way.” She said pointing at the bright colored bouquet at the table which certainly looked out of place against the black and gray interior of his shop.

After exchanging details about their little activity tomorrow, Hange gave him a final enthusiastic wave before taking off his shop leaving him in awe.

Ah. He forgot to mention his noise complaint.

#

The next day, nine little children were lined up orderly marching up infront of his store led by Hange. She carried a red flag to remind everyone where she is at all times. They all wore a silk screen printed shirt that says plants rule in front and some sort of a plant pun at the back.

Hange's shirt says. 'Someone has been adding soil to my garden. The plot thickens.'

Ah. That was pretty good...and also pretty dumb.

“Are you sure about this boss?” Oluo asked as he worked on a cover up on a customers shoulder.

"No." He answered earing a chuckle from Eld, Gunther and Petra at the back.

"Good Morning Underground Ink!" Hange enthusiastically cheered as she opened the door.

"Keep your voice down four eyes!"

“Oh! Sorry!" She mouthed at him before turning back to her campers. "Kids say good morning to Mr.Ackerman!” She beamed.

“Goodmorning Mister Ackerman!” The kids said in unison in a sing song tune. He gave them a small nod of acknowledgement then proceeded to cut out the temporary tattoo sheet into small pieces. The kids immediately scattered around the store to take a look at the reference books laid on his lounge. He glowered at Hange. "You said they'd behave."

"They would I promise! They're just a bit excited with our little expedition."

"If they break anything, I swear you're gonna pay ten times the price."

"Oh don't be such a grump!" She said slapping his arm. "Ouch! You didn't tell me you work out."

"Tch." He clenched his jaw and focused his eyes on the tattoo sheets he's cutting up. Damn four eyes and her mouth.

"Hey Kids! Gather over here Mr.Ackerman will show you how to put on a tattoo."

“Is this gonna hurt?” Eren innocently asked.

“Not if you’re brave.” He answered. The kid involuntarily recoiled at that. He can tell that Eren's starting to have second thoughts and struggled to put on a brave face. Eren immediately sought out Hange seemingly asking for help and at that, she immediately stepped up and ruffled the kids hair. ”I’ll get my tattoo done first.” Hange hopped on a chair and presented her wrist to Levi.

Levi held her hand to keep her arm steady. His eyes darted at her as if asking her if the touch was permitted and he was met with a sweet smile. He immediately avoided her eyes pushing down the thought of her playing her guitar surrounded by flowers...a scruffy forest diety. he recalled the exact words that formed on his mind that night.

He bit the inside of his cheek to ground himself to reality. Levi held the damp towel against her wrist and she let out a little yelp. He immediately pulled away hoping he didn't press too hard while his mind wandered to silly memories of her the other night. "Gotcha!" Hange teased chuckling at him. "Ass!" he said playfully throwing his towel at her face gaining another laugh from the brunette. The kids huddled around them giggled at them.

"Ms.Hange, What's an ass?" A little girl munching potato chips asked.

"It's another term for a donkey." A small timid blonde kid answered.

"Thats right Armin!Very good!" Hange said. The blonde kid blushed at her praise and glued his eyes on the floor.

"What's a donkey?" Potato chip girl asked again.

"It's like a little horse" Armin answered.

"Why are you calling Ms.Hange a donkey Mr.Ackerman? She doesn't even look like a horse" A kid with shaved head asked.

"...unlike Jean over here." Eren added and a kid with elvish features (which he assumed is Jean) stepped up and hit Eren by the arm. Eren was ready to retaliate when Hange spoke.

"Kids, we promised Mr.Ackerman no rough housing inside the store." Hange reminded them calmly and the kids immediately pulled away from one another.

There was a brief moment of silence and wondering gasps from children around them as he worked on Hange's tattoo.“So does anyone have a question to Mister Ackerman.” He immediately frowned. He said yes to tattooing kids not chatting them up. Nothing would have prepared him for the set of questions that came rushing in after Hange's open invite.

#

Eren is the last one to get his tattoo. He disinfected his arm with alcohol and his eyes drifted to Hange who was blushing at the sight of a kid adorably putting on a brave face.

Levi had to look away.

At the end of the session,all kids merrily walked back to her shop comparing all their little tattoos. Hange then thanked him for playing along with her little activity.

#

His whole afternoon was a blur. Between those kids who won't stop asking him and Hange's constant teasing smirks he was out of it. He scrubbed the side of his tattoo gun a little harder.

“I see you put my flowers in a bucket.”

Levi almost dropped his tattoo gun as Hange's merry voice boomed around the shop.

“Its the closest thing I have to a vase.” He said wondering if she’s offended that he chucked her precious flowers on a bucket, but that endearing smile she had on her face says otherwise.

“I had just the thing!” She rushed out of his shop and came back with a huge crystal vase.

“What's that?”

“Its a vase I inherited from my gram-gram.”

“I can see its a vase.”

“Well with the horticulture camp and all I'm scared this would get knocked over and you seem like an organized responsible sort of guy. Maybe you can take care of this for me for a while.”

She’s certainly getting a little too comfortable with favors now. ”What makes you think I wouldn’t knock it over to get back on you for that assembly mess.”

“Because you’re nicer than your letting on.” she says as she procured a small rose from her back pocket and gently tucked its stem behind his ear. He compelled his hand to swat her arm way but his body didn't cooperate. He stood there frozen wondering if she truly was some sort of a scruffy forest deity and she's punishing him from his insolence at that assembly.

Okay, that sounded dumb...What the hell is wrong with him?

"Did the kids asked you to give me this?" He forced himself to reply.

"Nah, That one is from me." She said. Her eyes were bright and her face were slightly flushed. He wondered if he'd never seen anyone look this gallant and handsome before.

"You don't like it?" She asked cocking her head to the side.

"No! I-ah...I'm just..." He stuttered trying to find the right words without sounding pathetic. His hand raised to touch the flower on his ear. He never got flowers before. He felt a smile coming up so he forced a frown.

“Why are you frowning? Don't tell me you're still upset about that assembly thing? I thought were past that?”

“Tch! No were not!” Levi recoiled at how loud his reply was.

”You see, I would be threatened but I just watched you spend your afternoon tattooing a bunch of kids even though you are not paid for it so...Yeah...I guess water under the bridge right?”

“Who says I'm not charging you? I thought you came here to pay up.” He smirked finding calm at her retort.

At that, Hanji laughed. She fucking laughed! The woman even clutched her arms around her stomach and doubled over. She practically radiated with warmth and a familiar sense of home. “Alright you got me, I don’t want to owe you anything so how about a cup of coffee sometime? Although, you seemed to prefer tea”

He scrunched his face. "How do you know I prefer tea?"

"You see, the funny thing about a huge glass storefront window is that, if you can see me, that means I can see you too."

”Wh-What are you on about? I don't...” Fuck! She knows. He internally panicked and wondered what would the appropriate response be.

"Oh calm down! Don't worry, I don't mind you ogling at me." She smirked evidently teasing him.

"Tch. Fuck you four eyes!"

"I wouldn't mind that too." He froze and It didn't take her too long to realize what she said. Her face immediately flushed in a very flattering shade of red. "I'm sorry I got carried away." Hange slightly turned away and tucked a little piece of her hair behind her ear.

He wanted to say something...flirty maybe? But chances are he's gonna run his mouth and say something about him thinking that she was a scruffy forest deity or how he hates that she never opens her store on time or how he knows her best record for not changing jumpsuits is 5 days. So he kept his mouth shut and let silence engulf them.

“Well, I’m next door just in case you wanna take me up for tea. I’ll see you around I guess.”

"Wait!" He called out.

Hange whipped her head to turn to him and he rushed behind the register to grab one of his spare umbrellas he keeps for emergencies. "Take this."

"What for?" She asked scratching the back of her head.

"You'd get sick running around in rain." he said plainly, hoping she didn't find him too creepy.

Levi didn't know it was possible but he swore her eyes shone a little brighter, a small smile is now etched on her face. "See you later Levi." She took one last glance at him lifting an arm to wave as she ran back to her store.

“Later, four eyes.” He whispered beneath his breath and although he felt pleasantly sunny inside, he sensed that he forgot about something...

Ah, he forgot to talk to her about his noise complaint.

[teddy-bear-surprise]

hi!! how are you? i seen your post about wanting to write headcannons or blurbs and i didn't know if you wanted them to be birthday related but osbddkndjdd staying up until exactly 12 am with peter and once it hits, the reader gives him a bunch of kisses & let's him now how happy she is to be with him!!!

This story is also available on AO3 and Wattpad!

Hi! Thank you so much for the request, I'm doing great today and I hope you are too <3

MASTERLIST

Title: Midnight Birthday

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: None (they joke around about poop and farts, which makes me sound immature, but I promise it’s funny and not like serious)

Context needed: Y/N

I deviated slightly from the prompt on accident, but I hope you enjoy it :)

Your phone rang loudly for the third time, prompting you to finally pick up. Normally, you would ignore everyone’s phone calls, but you realized that Peter was the one calling you. You had set a special ringtone for him, just so this wouldn’t happen, yet he still had to call multiple times just to get your attention.

“Hey, Peter! Sorry I didn’t pick up before… You know how it is, right?”

Peter chuckled on the other end of the line, “Yeah, I know. We should really come up with a better system for you. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if there was an emergency and they had to call you. I know you can’t see me right now, but just the thought gave me goosebumps.”

You heard him shudder, “I’m sure you’re very goosebumpy, Spider-Kid.”

“Hey!” He asserted jokingly, “You know that I prefer ‘Spider-Man’, you know that. And don’t be mean to me! I’m over here calling to invite you out to dinner and this is what I get? I am beyond hurt. I will never recover.” Peter emphasized each word as sarcastically as he possibly could.

“Oh, get over yourself drama queen. Spider-Boy, Spider-Kid, Spider-Man, it’s all the same thiiinnggggg. Just take the compliment, hun. In thirty years– when you’re all old, wrinkly, and a Spider-Senior –you’ll be missing the days when people called you Spider-Kid. Now, what were you saying about dinner?”

“I said I wanted to invite you out to dinner! Were you not listening?”

You rolled your eyes and wished he could see your face right now. “I got that part, genius. I meant like what kind of dinner… Y’know, Where? When? The details, Pete, the details.”

“Oohhhh, that would make sense.” He laughed quietly, shaking his head at his own stupidity. “I was thinking that we could go to that restaurant you love, you know the one you were talking about the other day… Ummmm I think it was called Sveleka? Right? So we could go there around 7…”

Peter’s voice trailed off as he tried to remember the details of his plan and you cut in. “It’s Veselka, but that would be great, Pete. I’ll see you there at 7, love you.”

You hung up the phone before Peter even got a chance to reply. Your phone skills were rudimentary, to say the least, and it always got you into trouble. Luckily, Peter understood your bizarre hatred of phones and phone calls, allowing you to talk to him without worrying too much.

You knew that his birthday was tomorrow and you had developed a plan of your own. It was supposed to be a surprise, and the last thing you were expecting was for him to ask you out to dinner the night before his own birthday. In a way, it made you appreciate him even more, knowing that he loved you enough to randomly call you and ask you out to dinner. But now, thanks to his unexpected decision, you only had two hours to rearrange everything before meeting up with him for dinner. You stared at the giant teddy bear sitting on your bed and sighed. Even though your plan was technically easier to carry out now, you felt a twinge of annoyance about having to modify your schedule.

Originally, you wanted to sneak into Peter’s apartment, along with May’s help, and surprise him with a giant teddy bear that said “I love you” when you hugged it. Ideally, you would get there right at midnight, as the night turned from August 9th to 10th, and show him that you cared. That you cared about his birthday, his happiness, and his wellbeing.

You shook away the thought and positioned the teddy bear so that it looked like it wanted to give you a hug. In between its warm, fluffy arms, you placed a small box. This box was technically Peter’s real present. It contained a small, circular locket with one half of a glass spider and a key. In the very same box, you included a long handwritten note telling Peter how much you loved him and how proud you were of him. Once you rearranged the box and bear to your liking, you began to get ready.

The closet of your apartment was minuscule, as was the whole place, and the limited space had led you to develop a very limited wardrobe. Your outfits only consisting of basic black pieces, one dark green jacket, and three pairs of shoes. Peter always joked that he loved how your closet all looked the same, claiming that it made it easier to find you if you ever got lost in a crowd. You both knew that was far from true since everyone in Manhattan loves wearing black, but you appreciated that he was so kind about your unconventional fashion decision.

You grabbed a simple, long black skirt and a silky black tank top, changing out of your pajamas. It might have been five o’clock in the afternoon, but pajamas stayed on until you left the house. That was just the rule. While you fixed your hair and makeup, you began to worry that Peter would figure out your plan. It was a slightly irrational thought, especially since he was socially inept and on multiple occasions forgot when his birthday was. Still, the thought plagued your mind until the moment you were ready to leave.

As you walked to Grand Central station, you texted Aunt May, letting her know that the plan had changed. May had been the biggest supporter of you and Peter’s relationship from the start. Honestly, she was the only one you could trust because she was the only one who could keep both your and Peter’s identities a secret. You hopped onto the Six heading downtown, hoping that she would reply before your service completely cut out.

You: Hi, May. Peter invited me out for dinner at the last minute so we might have to rearrange a bit.

May: This is why I told you to make plans with him ahead of time, so we wouldn’t run into any bumps like this.

You: I know, sorry. I wasn’t expecting him to do this.

May: I was kind of expecting it… I made a bet with myself that he would do this and it looks like I won!

You: You bet on us?? Is this like a reoccurring thing???

May: Definitely not. That would be immature. I’d never do that.

You shook your head at your phone, laughing at how obvious it was that May bet on your and Peter’s relationship. To you, May was like a second mother, or just a really cool aunt. She seemed to understand how to be just serious enough, but not stiff. Not to mention that she was ten times nicer and more supportive of you than your actual mom.

You: I’m gonna pretend that the last part of the conversation never happened. But what I wanted to tell you was that I’m going to meet Peter for dinner around 7 at Veselka so I won’t be able to go back to my apartment and then to Peter’s in time. I just left the bear at my apartment and I’m thinking of asking Peter to go home with me after we eat, what do you think?

May: Sounds like a solid plan, kiddo. Good luck, and please don’t let Peter eat too many of those sauerkraut pierogies this time, he was gassy for two days. It wasn’t fun.

You: Thanks for the gross heads-up, May. Byeeee

You got off at Astor Place and walked in silence towards the restaurant. You were looking at the ground, head hanging low, when Peter called out to you from across the street.

“Y/N, hi!”

You looked up at him and smiled at the goofy boy waving at you. “Hi, Peter!”

Jogging across the street, you made eye contact with him. He held out a hand towards you, helping you onto the sidewalk, and embraced you. Peter kissed the top of your head softly and gave you one last squeeze before letting go.

“So, I guess we’re both early then. I gotta say that I’m shocked, Parker. I wasn’t expecting you to get here before me.”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.” Peter winked at you.

---

The two of you merrily ate your dinner, with Peter threatening to instigate a food fight more than once. You talked about anything and everything, by the time you two were ready to pay the bill, it was almost 11 and you were stuffed.

Peter rubbed his hand on his stomach, poking at it, “I think it would be physically impossible for me to eat any more. Like I would just spchwoooo,” he mimicked an explosion with his hands, “explode.”

“I’m just glad we didn’t order any of those sauerkraut pierogies, May said they made you all gassy last time. I don’t even want to know what would have happened if you ate those and the stuffed cabbage.”

“What?! May said that? I never get gassy. Ever.” Peter lowered his voice, “I’m literally superhuman, it takes more than some sauerkraut and cabbage to mess with this iron stomach.”

“That’s not even close to being true. You had explosive diarrhea after that burrito two weeks ago, and don’t blame the food, you were the only one out of the three of us who got sick. Did you forget that May and I had to take you to the hospital? Because I don’t think that counts as an ‘iron stomach’.”

The two of you argued about stomachs, diarrhea, and food the rest of the way to your apartment, stopping every few minutes to point out airplanes flying overhead. You insisted on walking home so you could arrive almost exactly at midnight. Plus having Spider-Man by your side was basically a guarantee of safety, even in Manhattan. Peter held your hand the whole time, swinging it like a smitten teenager. After walking nearly fifty blocks, you arrived at your apartment. You noticed that Peter seemed hesitant, only lightly resting his foot on the first step leading up the building.

“C’mon, let’s watch a movie or something. I don’t want you to leave yet.” You pouted and tugged on Peter’s hand, pulling him up into the doorway.

“Well then, I guess I’m not leaving.”

---

The two of you were cuddled on your small couch watching Buzzfeed Unsolved, Peter’s favorite show, but you weren’t paying attention. Every few seconds your eyes would dart up at the clock, waiting for the hour hand to strike 12. Peter was entranced, never letting his attention deviate from the screen, and he didn’t even notice that you weren’t looking at the TV. The minutes went by slowly and you were counting down the seconds until midnight, gripping onto Peter’s arm. He thought that you were just scared by the prospect of unsolved murders, not that you were anxiously waiting for his birthday.

The last second passed and the clock struck 12, you immediately jumped out of Peter’s embrace and turned to him. Peter sat up in shock, confused by your sudden movement. You took the opportunity to straddle him and grab his face.

“Happy birthday, My Love.”

You peppered his face with sweet kisses and his eyes widened. His body softened under your touch as a feeling of love and happiness filled his heart. Peter snaked his hands up your thighs, letting them rest on your hips, and squeezed softly. You gave him one last kiss on the lips and rested your forhead against his.

“I have a surprise for you, Birthday Boy.” You lifted yourself off of his lap and held your hand out to him.

Peter took your hand and followed you obediently, curious to see what his surprise was. You opened the door to your room, revealing the large stuffed bear and its matching box. Peter let go of your hand and excitedly ran towards your bed.

Before he could say anything, you began speaking, “I know it’s not much, and I know you probably thought that I’d have like a trail of rose petals in here or something like that. But I wanted to show you that my love for you isn’t just about our physical relationship, my love for you i-is emotional and wholesome. I love you, Peter Parker. I truly love you and I’m so happy that you’re mine. I mean, every morning I wake up, I remember that I’m dating you, and that makes me the happiest person in the world.” You reached over to the box in Peter’s hands, “So, Peter Parker, will you accept this key?”

You opened the box and Peter’s cheeks glowed red. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he nodded his head.

“Yes! I love you so much too. I- Thank you,” He paused, “Oh no. Wait, I don’t have a key for yo–”

“Pete, this is your birthday present. I wouldn’t expect you to give me a gift on your birthday, silly.”

He rambled energetically, “You’re right… I’m still going to get you a copy though. Oh my gosh. I love this so much, and is this a spider because I’m Spider-Man?! Where’s the other half? This is so cool!”

You held up your matching locket, opening it to reveal the other half. “Yep, it is because you’re Spider-Boy. The best superhero in town. And, don’t throw away the little note at the bottom. Well, don’t open it now, but if you ever need a reminder of how much I love you, just read that note.”

Peter held your hands in his and pulled you down, both of you crashing into the giant teddy bear. The second you fell onto it, it blurted a freakish, distorted “I love you”, scaring both of you. You jumped up and looked at a wide-eyed Peter.

“Y’know, maybe we don’t need the bear. I don’t really want to be on the next episode of Unsolved.”

You laughed at Peter’s joke, pushing the bear onto the ground and kissed him. His soft lips tasted like the blueberry dessert you shared and his skin was as soft as butter.

You pulled away, foreheads resting together once more. Peter whispered, “Thank you for giving me the happiest midnight birthday, darling.”

[pinkhairedlily]

Every Glance A Step Closer

Prompt: Glances | AO3 link here. Connect with me on Twitter. Happy SS Month everyone! 🌸🍅🥗 @ssskmonth

“This one barely goes out of her laboratory. I swear to god she smells like formaline.”

“He smells like the dust and cobwebs in the library. I cannot even pronounce what he’s doing – archi…something. I just know he handles lots of old papers and books. B-o-r-i-n-g.”

“So anyway, Haruno Sakura meet Uchiha Sasuke.”

This was her one free day in her experiment period week, but she needed to steam off for a night and so she allowed her friend to tug her along for a chill night drink. What Sakura didn’t expect was to socialize with a small group of people in their year and to suffer the cold indifference of the guy in front of her.

To her another surprise, he held out a hand to her. “Hello there.” She took it, slightly conscious whether she used her formaline-cancelling hand lotion. A brief and firm shake and he quicky turned away.

“Sasuke finally speaks.”

“That hello sounded a little spicier.”

“Oh my, that hand holding definitely had some electricity.”

The cajoling and teasing finally stopped when the first round of beers came in. Local university gossip was the go-to conversation opener, from the open secret student-teacher relationships to recent couple break-ups. It eventually led to Sasuke and his list of confessions.

“I heard you turned down Mio from fashion design department.”

“No way. I heard she was approached by Celine for a gig.”

“Really Sasuke? That makes her the fifth girl you dumped for this week alone.”

“You never actually had a girlfriend, did you?”

Sakura stared at him doe-eyed, genuinely curious of his answer. He returned her gaze and raised one brow. “I have high standards.”

Oh wow, what a douche, Sakura thought. Hoots erupted in their table but only for a few seconds. While the drinking and the exchanges went on, Sakura found herself wanting to go home early. She was bored and her neck was tired from not looking at him. Under the guise of stretching her already strained neck, she stole a glance, hoping to have a brief moment to take in all of his features and remember his face.

But he was already looking at her. His eyes went to the door of the restaurant then back to her. Bored? He mouthed.

Sakura looked at the door, knowing perfectly what he meant. She chugged her supposedly last bottle of beer and made a small gap with her thumb and index finger. He caught her signal and started to stand up. Their group was tipsy enough not to notice their sudden movements as they shuffled out of the door.

She halted after a few steps, Sasuke’s figure already paces in front of her, wondering whether she should say goodbye or just walk towards the opposite direction back to her apartment. She didn’t think too much of it and quickly chose the latter.

She had to get ice cream first though, a sugar rush to help jolt her senses awake. She was choosing between chocolate and strawberry when a large figure stood beside her.

“A vanilla one, please,” Sasuke said, looking smug with his hands both in his pockets. “Your treat.”

Sakura felt weirded out by the fact that he actively kept on engaging her. His reputation preceded him, but she decided to humor him for tonight. “So library science and you’re an archivist.”

“Intern archivist actually. So you actually know me.” There was arrogance in his voice that made Sakura almost choke on her ice cream.

“Process of elimination. There is no male major in our year in the History department.” She glanced at him and saw that smug look slowly transition into a slight flush of embarrassment. Cute.

“And what if it was a hobby?” Sasuke fiddled with his still unopened vanilla ice cream.

“There was a job posting in the bulletin specifically calling for Library Science students.” Their feet led them to the park still bustling with university night life and settled on a bench under the canopy of a fully bloomed dogwood tree. “See, I’m not your admirer.”

“Well, that’s a downer,” he smirked.

They talked like that for a while, fleetingly exploring related topics to their degree programs, the usual prominent teachers, the busy schedules, until Sakura finished her chocolate and strawberry popsicles. It was on her way home, finally this time, that she realized he never ate his ice cream.

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

She next saw him on their building’s rooftop with a group of friends, a piece of unsmoked cigarette in between his fingers. He quickly met her eyes, did a brief nod, and looked away. She inadvertently expected more than that but she wasn’t here for a smoke break, and it wasn’t her intention to take it further. She was here for a quick getaway from her microscope and to appreciate the city view dotted with the flowers of spring.

He kept glancing her way, however. He would be in the middle of a conversation and his eyes would stray to her, and she would catch it in her periphery, trying not to notice it. She got tired after a few repetitions of this, and the next time he glanced, she caught his gaze.

Stop it, she mouthed.

I’m bored, he mouthed back. Walk with me. His fingers mimicked the gesture, his fingers walking in the air.

She put her hands together and slightly bowed in apology. Next time, she winked at him before running back to her laboratory, a small smile painted on her lips.

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

It became like this for the next few weeks; they conversed through glances and awkward gestures whenever they were in public with their friends. When it was time to come home, they would walk in separate ways and meet again in the park under the same dogwood tree and they would converse for hours. It was mostly Sakura word-vomiting about her experiments while Sasuke would look at her with abandoned fascination.

“Stop doing that,” Sakura called him out one time.

“Stop doing what?” Sasuke asked, his ember eyes never leaving her face.

“You stare too much I feel like I’m melting.”

Sasuke made a small grunt and wore his hoodie over his head to mess with her more. He waved his hands on both sides of his face, and she immediately understood the reference of a horse having its blinders on. “Good because usually I’m the one being stared at.”

Sakura reached out to his hoodie and tightened the strings around his neck. “You’re hopeless.”

He leaned forward, almost touching her lips, his face still between her palms. “Hmm, maybe I am.”

Sakura moved away just as quickly as he moved into her personal space, a hot flush creeping to her cheeks. She hated this particular situation since blushing always made her look like a cherry tomato.

“Cute.” Sasuke apparently said his thoughts aloud because he was taken aback the moment she glanced back at him. “Cool, I said cool.”

She laughed this off just as he completely covered his face inside his hoodie.

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

She visited the basement section of the library for reference materials. Her writeup was due tomorrow and she was missing a section on historical evolution of vaccines and dosages for the viral DNA she uncovered. The small library slip in her hand, she made her way to the dimly lit rows on Biology. The shelves were twice taller than her, but there were spaces in between stacked books.

Would make it very easy to spot a ghost, Sakura chided to herself. A shadow moved along the row adjacent to the Biology section, but she dismissed this as the library staff. Her fingers traced the spines of ragged books and examined the list of recommended titles in her hand. When she raised her head, ember eyes stared back at her between the spaces of the opposite row.

Hi, Sasuke mouthed. He glanced around and seeing no one, he whispered, “Can I come over to your side?”

She found it hard to stop her grin from rising. “More eyes, the better.”

It took only a few minutes for Sasuke to find all the titles in her list, but they littered around, walking in between shelves, taking one random book and flipping its pages, stopping when they find something interesting. When heavy footfalls were heard on the stairs, Sakura inclined her head, gesturing she needed to go.

Sasuke seemed to misunderstand as he pulled her through the sleeve of her cardigan to the area further behind the room, and as the shadows grew darker, and the noise became more muted, she heard the racing beat of her heart.

Finally reaching the wall, Sasuke slumped to the floor and patted the space beside him. Sakura followed suit, consciously leaving a space between them as she was slowly becoming hyper-aware of their proximity.

“How are you faring so far? Done with the requirements?” Sasuke asked, his voice low but audible enough for her.

Sakura nodded, and after beat, rolled her eyes at him. “Shouldn’t you be out there assisting others?”

“I believe you need more immediate help.” Sasuke pulled his knees in to rest his chin on and trained his eyes on her. “Sakura.”

“Sasuke.”

The longest minute of silence hung between them, tension strung by the stare, until Sakura broke it off with her eyes shifting to the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Flirting,” he said like it’s a matter-of-fact. “This is what they usually do to me.”

“And what should I do?” She let the words roll out of her mouth, unsure why she asked, uncertain also of what he felt. She met his gaze again.

And in that moment, he just sincerely looked at her. “Flirt back.”

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

Sakura was done for the school year. She will be officially graduating in a month, and to celebrate, she went out with their group for a sem-ender discotheque clubbing. She was gonna shoot her shot for a one-night stand with literally anyone who had chemistry with her – haha she was just kidding. As this seemed to be the final cap-off to her university life, she went all out with her clothes Sakura-style – basically a boxy cropped tea, high waisted jeans, and old heels her best friend gave to her in pity.

This was actually her first club experience, but she was glad to be with veteran friends. The first few minutes inside a closed space with bass boosted, unfamiliar crowds, and lots of skinship made her very uncomfortable. Her only reprieve was the free-flowing drinks – ironically she can handle alcohol well. The disco lights would have made it difficult to spot faces, but she found him in the dark, on the corner directly across her group, his eyes already glued on her.

She wondered if he ever forgave her for scrambling out of his presence in the reference section last time, explicitly avoiding his request to flirt back. It seemed like she worried for nothing since Sasuke raised his glass to her and mouthed congratulations. She raised her glass back, resolving to mind her own business tonight. But he kept looking, a smirk etched on his beautiful face, urging her to meet him halfway.

She didn’t need to look for an excuse as her friends suddenly pulled her into the harmless mosh pit of friendly grinding. Sakura allowed herself to move to the beat, enjoying the bubble offered by the club to lose herself for a few seconds. But she kept glancing towards his direction, his eyes looking for her in the mass of bodies. At first, the glances were mischievous, like playing hide-and-seek, then they held gravity, heavy lidded and palpable.

Sasuke was impatient, and soon enough, at her next spin on her heels, he was right behind her, his hands hovering over her arms, seeking consent to touch. Sakura turned to face him, one part shy, other parts unnerved, and she slowly encircled her arms around his neck, her eyes a definite yes. His hands went to her waist, and he brought her closer to his embrace.

“You don’t have your hoodie though,” Sakura said, a little louder over the crooning of Carly Rae Jepsen to Gimmie Love. “Someone will definitely see you.”

Sasuke closed whatever distance was between them and brought his lips to her ears. “That’s a relief then. I want to be seen with you.”

“Simp,” Sakura teased. “You’re probably expecting a confession out of me, aren’t you?” This was a long time coming and she wanted to get it over with tonight especially when she had alcohol buzzing on her side.

“I am actually,” Sasuke said. “I was hoping to beat you to it in the library last time, but you ran away. Coward.”

“What?”

“What? Didn’t you hear me?”

“You like me.” Sakura said in realization. She edged her face away from his hold to take a good look at his embarrassed face. “Oh, you really do.”

“You could be dense sometimes, Sakura.” Sasuke poked her forehead playfully, and he was rewarded with a bubbly laughter from her.

Their friends finally noticed them and the intense skinship happening. The yells and woots started to drown out the speakers.

“That took you two long enough, huh?”

“They really waited for the end of the school year to do their big reveal.”

“As if the whole school doesn’t know already.”

“What?” Sasuke and Sakura asked in unison.

“It was the constant eyesmex.”

“Really, they do it every time with no shame. It gives me secondhand embarrassment.”

“Right? Sometimes I think I need to yell get a room.”

“Maybe they’ll get a room tonight.”

“Oh my god, shut up."

🌸 It's my first time participating actively for SS Month so please go easy on me haha. Work is loosely inspired by Nevertheless webtoon (which now has a Netflix adaptation). Hope you enjoyed reading!

[nicco-needs-love]

Oh boy. I did it. I wrote this damn thing. It's kinda long (5k) so I'm splitting it into three parts because that's how I wrote this fic. The full thing will be up on ao3 tomorrow because it's 6am :,) my ao3 is HoliGAY if you wanna see the whole thing because I'm gonna edit it and make it look pretty on there! :,,)))

TW//quick desc of gore, and romanticizing of marriage! The gore isn't in this chapter so no worries! I would say this chapter would be rated G!

This is only chapter one! I'm gonna post the other's tomorrow! Sorry for any errors! I didn't read it over!

(1/3) White Proposal

"Is it normal? Y'know… To fall in love with one of our Eves?"

"Do you really think that's a good question to ask me?! Hell, I've fallen in love with every damn one of them!"

Ildio shrugs, realizing that asking Hyde was not the smartest idea.

"Well? There's a reason you asked that. Catching feelings for your Eve?"

"Yeah, I wanna propose."

Hyde inhales his water, coughing everywhere; caught very off guard at Ildio's sentence. 

"Huh?!"

"It isn't that strange. Mother married one of her old eves. Double Doubt and his eve are engaged. You and yours?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's normal for us to fall for our eves! You, however, haven't done that once!"

"Well… Nicco's different."

Ildio looks away, thinking about the long haired guy he'd hopelessly fallen for. Ildio isn't sure about even asking Niccolò to marry him. They're dating, been dating for a few years. It's just there has never been a good instance of Servamps marrying their Eves. It's just a sad thing to think about. Servamps are immortal, they'll never die. Their Eves aren't. Ildio was never close to any of his previous Eves, he was one of the very few Servamps who has never fallen in love. Of course, that was until he met Niccolò. It was a curse until Ildio eventually gave up fighting off those butterflies he'd get when Nicco would smile. 

"Uh-huh… Okay. Do you actually wanna do it? Propose I mean. Think about it, would it work?  Sometimes I wanna propose to Licht but there's so many reasons I can't. Our schedules, his job, he's popular with "everyone" so I can't imagine the problems he would get if people found out he was married. Hell,I'm not sure Licht would even say yes."

"I'm just thinking about it, if I was gonna do it, it wouldn't be extravagant, we wouldn't even have to wear rings."

"Then what's the point? Could be the romanticism in me but, that's such a beautiful thing about marriage. Wearing rings? It's so romantic, the glimmer of each other's face reflecting on their wedding rings! Being able to see your love in a metal band on someone's finger is just a beautiful thing! I've been married a few times and wedding days are some of the best days of my life."

Ildio sighs, definitely regretting his decision of talking to Hyde about this. He definitely should have talked to Kuro instead, none of the theatrics or excessive romantic details. Honestly any of his siblings would have been better to talk to about this; except for Hugh. Hugh has always been against Servamps falling in love. Especially ever since the incident with Hyde many centuries ago. Then Jeje's past with the Alicen family. There have been many, many times Servamps have fallen in love. Every time they had talked about those things to Hugh, there would be a very long conversation about the problems with a romance like that. That's one of the reasons that Ildio has always been weary of the idea of love. In fact, he thought he would never fall for anyone. All his previous Eves were asses who would break Ildio's rules almost immediately. Yet again, Niccolò changed his mind on that.

"I'm gonna go, Law. I'm gonna think more about it."

"Mkay! Invite me to the wedding! I wanna see it!"

Ildio laughs aloud once, closing the door behind him. 

The thing is, Ildio already bought a ring for the proposal. It was an impulse buy, he was shopping for snacks and a bright ring caught his eye in a window. The ring is one of a kind, a gorgeous onyx black band, with a shining silver inlay. Apparently there was a second ring similar to that one, however it sold a while ago. Ildio knew immediately the ring would fit Nicco. Don't ask how he would know that, many hours watching Niccolò's hands move would certainly not be Ildio's answer. The ring, inside a white velvet box, feels heavy inside his pocket. He could propose, just give Nicco the ring and walk away. Although he knows there's no way he could do that. After all, the worst thing Niccolò could say is no, right?

"He's been gone for hours… Not so far that the distance effect would take in, but far enough that I can't find him."

Niccolò sighs, sinking down against the vinyl chair he's sitting in. A few hours ago, Ildio told him to meet him at this diner. Nicco didn't expect to be waiting for hours. It's not like he has anything to do today anyway. Besides the piles of phone calls he has to make with other bosses of families because there have been many issues in the workplace. Nicco puts his head down on the table, considering giving Ildio a call. Not because he's impatient, but starting to get worried.

"Hey, Nicco."

Niccolò opens his eyes and looks up, seeing Ildio. Nicco isn't sure when he took a nap, but he certainly did. Ildio looks nervous? Niccolò isn't sure why he would be, but he sits up, tapping the spot next to him on the seat for Ildio to sit down. 

"Hey… Sorry I fell asleep, I meant to call but, I fell asleep…"

Ildio doesn't say anything, just nods. It isn't rare for Ildio to not say anything. However, it is rare for Ildio to look this nervous. Or nervous at all. Nicco notices Ildio has his hand inside his jacket pocket, it looks like he's fidgeting with something? Or, it could just be Niccolò projecting. You see, something has been weighing on his mind for months; marriage. Niccolò knows that's the very last thing he should be thinking about. First of all, he's a mafia boss with many people who rely and count on him, he still has to prove he can be just as good as his father one day. Secondly, he would be married to a vampire, a Servamp. If Niccolò proposed, would Ildio even have a choice to say no? If that's the case, Nicco would never want to propose. Still, he bought a ring, specifically for Ildio. He was just window shopping for rings when he saw it. The ring is a shining silver that shines beautifully in the sun. Inside the ring is a deep black inlay, the ring is gorgeous. He sighed a sigh of relief looking closely at the ring, he knew it would fit Ildio perfectly.  Niccolò being the hopeless romantic he is, he got an engraving into the ring's inlay. 'Mio dio'. Translating to 'My God' in italian. It's a very cheesy thing that Niccolò thinks about a lot, he thinks of Ildio as his God. 

Nicco can't help but idly roll the black velvet box between his fingers. He bought the ring about two weeks ago, he's been thinking about the moment over and over. The imaginary proposal in his head. Niccolò honestly is far too shy to do something so forward. It's completely different to hold hands or soft kisses, this is marriage. 

"S-so uh...Why were you out for so long, Il? I was getting worried…"

"Just thinkin' about stuff."

Silence. Niccolò shifts in his seat uncomfortably, not too sure what to say. Ildio is thinking the exact same, he isn't sure which way to go about this.

"So uh-"

They both start talking at the same time. Meeting each other's eyes, Niccolò looks down first, a blush dusting his face. Ildio obviously takes notice of this, realizing that Nicco is more nervous than usual; which is hard to be. 

Ildio stands up, grabbing Nicco's hand and taking him out of the diner. In the corner of his eye, he can see many of the Carpe Diem members giving him a look of suspicion. 

Outside the diner, around seven feet away from the entrance, Ildio can't stop fiddling with the box in his pocket. Nicco isn't touching the box in his pocket, however, it feels like one-hundred tons weighing in on him.

Ildio inhales, getting a grip on the wedding ring. He's doing it; he's going to ask Niccolò to marry him.

Looking at Ildio, Nicco can see a look of determination? Seeing that makes Nicco want to propose. He reaches within his coat pocket, grabbing the white box.

"Niccolò."

Nicco stops in his tracks, the severe tone in Ildio's voice making him stop. Has he done something wrong? Does Ildio suddenly just want to turn their relationship into business only? Does he want to leave the business and have nothing to do with Nicco anymore? His hands turn clammy, swallowing down a lump of anxiety. 

"Y-yes?"

"I uh… Listen, augh- dammit."

Ildio's stuttering just makes Niccolò feel much more nervous. Thousands of different things race through Nicco's head. Thousands of negative things. He tries to brace himself for whatever words Ildio is going to say. Unfortunately, Nicco knows that if Ildio says anything negative, it will most likely break him.

"...I wanna marry you."

Ildio pulls out the white velvet box, opening it up to show the ring to Nicco. Part of him doesn't want to see Niccolò's reaction. He doesn't want him to say yes because Ildio doesn't want to get any closer to this anomaly. He also doesn't want Nicco to say no, because honestly… Ildio wants to marry Nicco. If Ildio's being completely honest with himself, he's hopelessly in love with the man before him.

Nicco gasps, audibly gasps, a… a proposal? He can't believe his eyes. The ring is absolutely stunning, it looks uncannily similar to the ring that Nicco bought for Ildio. He looks up to meet Ildio's eyes from the ring; it feels like hundreds of butterflies fly from his heart. Ildio's eyes are warm, soft. The breath leaves Nicco in a rush. Niccolò is sure Ildio is a literal god, not a vampire. 

"I- the funny thing is…uh…"

Niccolò pulls the open black velvet box from his coat, showing the ring to Ildio. Nicco turns his head away from Ildio, not wanting to see his expression.

Ildio blinks a few times, looking at the gorgeous ring in Nicco's hands. He can tell immediately that it's the opposite version of the ring he purchased a few nights ago. Looking closer, Ildio can see some italian engraved into the ring. Since Niccolò knows italian, Ildio was able to know it immediately when they made their contract. "Mio Dio". It's a term that Nicco would use very affectionately towards Ildio. A term that Ildio doesn't agree with, but hearing those words from Nicco is, ironically, heavenly. 

"Jesus Nicco… This is beautiful. So, I'm guessing it's a yes?"

Niccolò laughs, nodding. He pulls the ring out of it's black box, gently sliding it onto Ildio's finger. Ildio mimics the action, both of them wearing the ring the other chose.

Ildio grabs Niccolò's tie, tugging him into a gentle, loving kiss.

[fandomlovingfreak]

You Can’t Marry a Malfoy (11/12)

George Weasley/Reader

Ch1. Ch2. Ch3. Ch4. Ch5. Ch6. Ch7. Ch8. Ch9. Ch10.

Rating: E for everyone (no warnings apply except a little alcohol in the middle I suppose)

Word Count: 1163

AO3 Link

Summary: When reader comes running to George Weasley because her parents have arranged a Pureblood marriage between her and Draco Malfoy, what will George do? He's been secretly in love with his best friend since their time at Hogwarts, and he knows he can't let her go. He definitely can't let Malfoy have her.

Notes: Wedding time! One more chapter posted tomorrow (hopefully) and then a possible prequel in the upcoming week(s)! Thank you so much for comments, likes, reblogs, and following! I’ve had a great time writing this piece:)

**(y/f/n) = your full name

Enjoy

"Get up!" Molly's voice rings through his small bedroom. George groans, moving his pillow over his head.

"George Fabian Weasley!" She pulls the pillow away from him, "You have to get up, dear."

"Five more minutes," he reaches blindly for the pillow.

"You have to go help your father set up the tent." she begins to open the blinds.

"Mum, that's too bright…"

"Good. Get up. We have a tight schedule today."

Finally, it hits him. He's getting married today. Grinning, he rubs his tired eyes. Getting dressed in plain clothing, he saunters down the staircase to the kitchen where the rest of his family is eating.

"Morning," he takes the mug Ginny offers him. 

"Morning," Charlie greets him, "ready for today?" 

George takes a sip of the warm liquid, setting it down on the counter, "Yup."

***

Very reminiscent of Bill and Fleur's wedding, he and his brothers help set up the tent on one side of the lawn for the reception. Ginny, Hermione, and his mother set up a little altar on the other side. Hermione charms some of the natural foliage to create a wedding arch. The vines fall delicately down the back of the arch, creating a backdrop of the rich green color. Ginny hand places small flowers throughout the arch as Molly sets up white chairs in front.

George walks nearby, "looks good."

"Thank you," Ginny turns to look at him. "(y/n) wanted yellow flowers everywhere. Do you think you could charm the flowers on the back of the seats?"

"Of course," he causes the flowers to grow up the backs of the seats, also causing them to brighten in color by casting an anti-wilting charm on them. For good measure, he enchants the flowers to sparkling slightly in the sunlight. "Look good?"

"Brilliant! How did you make them sparkle like that?"

"A special charm I've been working on. When's (y/n) getting here?"

"Sometime soon. We're going to be in my room. You should probably get inside before she gets here."

***

He gets dressed in his old room for the last time, tying his tie in the mirror. 

"Not bad," he checks himself out in the mirror. The morning coat's dark material is very opposite of his normal attire, but his mum had begged him to wear something "wedding appropriate" for a groom. She wasn't wrong when she said he'd look good in the dark coat.

"How'd mum get you into that?" Ron teases from the doorway.

"No idea," George grins, "but I look bloody good."

"Gonna ditch the earth tones now?"

He snorts, "never."

***

Bill hands him a brown leather flask. "What's this?"

"Firewhiskey, of course." His lips twist with interest before taking a large drink from the flask. The liquid burns his throat deliciously, landing in the pit of his stomach. He passes the flask on to Ron, who passes it to Harry, who passes it to Percy, and so on. Before long, they're all joking, messing around like they did when they were children.

"Hand the flask over here, Ron," George puts his hand out.

"Oi! Don't you dare mate. He can't be out of it at the altar." Bill snatches the flask away before anyone can have another drink.

"Merlin's beard... I'm getting married." George's eyes widen, looking towards Ron.

"I'm glad you've realized, mate." Harry laughs.

"Oh wow--" He grins stupidly.

"Mum's gonna be pissed if you let him go out there, piss drunk." Percy comments, laughing.

***

They manage to sober him up slightly before escorting him down the stairs past the door that's loud with the girls' laughter. He can hear (y/n)'s enchanting laughter through the walls driving him insane. He'd give anything to go into that room and steal her away for a moment alone.

His mother shakes her head when she notices how they're guiding him out of the house.

"Don't give him any more," Molly plucks the flask from Bill's hand, ushering the boys out of her kitchen with another disapproving look.

Everything seems to get real the moment he's in front of the small crowd of their family and friends. (y/n)' s parents sit in the front right while his parents sit on the front left. They agreed on a small guest list. (y/n) hadn't wanted a whole affair. The day was supposed to be about them, she had insisted. Only a few classmates, close friends, and closely related family were in the small crowd, which was perfectly fine to him. 

He gives his mom and dad a look before soft music starts up. Charlie walks down the aisle with (y/n) 's maid-of-honor Amelia on his arm. He's whispering something to her as they walk together, and Amelia is giggling, flirtatiously smiling at his brother. Charlie leaves a space between himself and George. A space for Fred.

Next is Percy with (y/n) 's friend Audrey, then Bill and Fleur, Ron and Hermione, and finally Harry and Ginny. The music changes, and Victoire walks down the aisle throwing yellow sunflower petals all around. She grins at everyone, definitely thinking this gathering was for her.

"Uncle George!" She runs towards the altar. The audience laughs as George squats down to pick her up. 

"Hello V. You look very pretty in your dress."

"Thank you," Victoire giggles.

"Victoire, darling. Come here, please." Fleur motions for her daughter. Setting her down, she runs to stand next to her mum as (y/n) 's father steps out the front door. He holds out his hand to help (y/n) down the few stairs. He can only just see her, but his heart starts to rapidly beat in his chest. The closer she walks towards him, the faster his heart seems to beat. His face physically hurts from how wide he's grinning. He's never seen a more beautiful person in his entire life. The white material of her dress fits her body perfectly, hugging in all the right places. He swears later on that (y/n) glimmered in the afternoon sunlight as she walked down the aisle.

She's grinning and reaching for his arm as he's reaching for hers...and finally her hands in his. They stand across from each other. He's so transfixed by her, he hardly notices the witch in front of them speaking until she's asking him to repeat after her. Somehow he gets through the vows without many blunders.

"And do you (y/f/n) take George Fabian Weasley to be your husband, to live together in marriage? To cherish in friendship and love today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you live. To trust and love him faithfully in strength and in weakness, in success and in disappointment?"

"I do" (y/n) squeezes his hands in hers.

"By the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, I now pronounce you Wizard and Witch. You may seal your commitment to one another with a kiss."

George doesn't even hesitate, pulling her into his arms and kissing her. 

His wife.

Taglist: @paigeyisme

[forthegodsandtheghosts]

The Four Times Virgil Was Sleepy Around The Other Sides and The One Time He Fell Asleep

Link to AO3 version

Post the inspired the concept

Post that helped me with scene 4

Virgil doesn't have a good sleep schedule. That fact absolutely affects him in his everyday life. Just a bunch of Virgil being sleepy and defensive about it.

This is honestly just very self-indulgent because I just absolutely love Virgil Sanders and can't exist without thinking about the Sides for five seconds

It had been a long… day? Week? Month? Interval of time. I had been a long interval of time for the resident mindscape emo who just couldn’t seem to catch a break.

Letting out a long, drawn-out groan of agony, Virgil flopped down onto the couch, fully planning on just being a general nuisance by hogging it. Though, as soon as he stilled, hands resting on his stomach, he noticed just how good laying down felt. Arching his back off the couch, he heard those satisfying clicks before dropping back down with a sigh.

He could almost sleep here. There wasn’t exactly anything stopping him. The other Sides are off doing their own thing and Thomas probably wouldn’t miss a wanna-be vampire hollering in his ears. Besides, he needed the rest. So, slowly he allows his muscles to relax further as his eyes slide shut.

Then he hears footsteps.

Virgil shoots upright, scooting to lean on the arm of the couch his head was previously next to, trying to look natural. His gaze goes to the doorway just as Patton enters the room.

He startles when he notices Virgil’s presence, legs sprawled out, still taking up the couch. “Anxiety! Hi, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Patton’s shocked expression quickly changes to show his typical cheerful smile, confusion about Virgil being there present none the less.

“I could say the same, but we live in the same mindscape and are bound to see each other most of the time, so I can’t.” Virgil’s sass is prominent no matter how deadpan he sounds and Patton’s smile almost wavers.

“Of course, kiddo! I didn’t mean anything bad by you being here, just got a bit surprised. Well I’ve got something to do, I’ll see you around, Anxiety!” he called as he went back down the hall he just entered from.

--

It was about a week later; Virgil had managed to get one (1) almost full night of sleep – he got maybe two hours – and was once again extremely tired and considering just saying fuck it and going back to bed for the rest of forever. So how exactly did he end up dragged into a movie night with the rest of the Sides? Pure dumb lack of luck.

He was placed on the couch, sandwiched between Patton and Logan – Patton who just wants to give the newest member of their little group the most love he can and Logan who would probably implode if he had to sit on the ground – Roman sitting at Patton’s feet on the bean bag he dragged over. Virgil could already feel himself fading, with the lights off and all the warmth and the shockingly comfortable surface that is Patton’s chest he was being pulled into. Honestly, it’s as if the guy was made to be as huggable as possible.

Virgil soon reached the point of having to force his eyes to stay open barely halfway through the first movie. He couldn’t fall asleep. He’s tough and dangerous and they can’t know he sleeps and becomes defenseless sometimes, it’s far too dangerous. Who knows what could happen to him, what they could do–

His own internal ramblings were cut of as he let out a wide yawn, half burying his face into Patton’s chest. Patton released a small sound that definitely caught the other two’s attention if the yawn didn’t. “Are you tired, kiddo?” Patton quietly asked, hand soothing through Virgil’s hair.

Virgil quickly pushed himself off Patton’s chest. “No. I’m just getting bored of sitting here, watching a bunch of singing animals.” He stood from the couch and made his way quickly to the doorway, ignoring the disappointed expression on Patton’s face and relishing in Roman’s offended one. “See you tomorrow maybe.” Then he disappears up the stairs.

--

It’s a quiet day. Not the odd kind of quiet.

Rather, the kind of quiet that is achieved when everyone is relaxing in the common room doing their own thing. It’s not as if a vacuum sealed chamber, there’s still the sounds of Logan flipping pages in his book, of Roman’s pencil scribbling away in his notebook, and of whatever show Patton decided to watch. A good quiet that everyone could enjoy. Everyone that was fully awake that is.

Virgil sits on the couch, between Logan on the armchair and Roman on the middle cushion, staring blankly at his phone's home screen. He considered finding another app to entertain himself on but as soon as he hit the home button the fatigue of a poor sleep schedule hit like a bus. At this point, he might as well be sleeping with his eyes open due to his complete lack of responsiveness to anything around him.

Logan glances at the seemingly spacing Side. Eyelids slightly drooping, the lack of spare eyeshadow particles to suggest usage of makeup – which was concerning on it’s own as it almost looks like he is wearing makeup, the heavy lean on the armrest. Anxiety is not doing okay is the conclusion he comes to.

As most should know, Logan is not one to sugar coat or delay, so it’s easy for him to decide to get the current predicament dealt with as soon as possible. “Anxiety,” he starts, closing his book and causing everyone’s attention to move to him, including, just barely, Virgil’s, “from what I have observed, you seem tired. Have you been having issues sleeping?” Right to the point.

Everyone’s attention is now on Virgil, even as he still seems to be processing what Logan said, a confused expression on his face and half-asleep glaze to his eyes. “Wha’?” He says after a few more moments, blinking dazedly at Logan.

“Alright, that is everything I need to know.” Logan stands and moves towards the closet they keep spare blankets and pillows, A.K.A the Pillow Fort Closet™. He pulls out a soft blanket and pillow and carries them back into the common room, setting them down on the armchair. He quickly shoos Roman and Patton off the couch while Virgil watches, barely processing anything. “Anxiety, can you lay down for me?”

Virgil barely registers when he complies, lifting his head when he’s told to as Logan slips the pillow under it and drapes the blanket over the rest of him. It’s only after Logan sits back down that Virgil realizes what just happened and is sitting, standing, and sinking out in quick succession.

--

Months later, a few days after Virgil revealed his name and everyone got a dandy style change, things had returned to relative normativity except Virgil was marginally more included in many things the other Sides choose to do than before.

It’s currently night, a particular night in which Roman has been up even into the morning so late he decides there’s no point in sleeping. Roman decides to head downstairs and get a cup of coffee with the promise he’ll actually sleep tomorrow. What he finds isn’t not normal, but definitely not expected.

When he rounds the doorway into the kitchen, he catches sight of a large mass around counter level. He’s immediately flicks on the light, earning a startled hiss from the mass, now revealed to be Virgil sitting in the sink, the Side seemingly just woken up by Roman’s entrance.

“Virgil?” Roman asks. “What are you doing in the sink?”

“Sleeping. What are you doing up?” He rubs harshly at his eyes with a wide yawn.

“I got… busy and came to get some coffee. Why are you sleeping in the sink?”

Virgil only responds with a shrug, slumping further into the sink though his gaze doesn’t leave Roman.

Roman only nods and gets to work on making his coffee. “Well, it’s not my back that’s gonna feel like a dragon hit me with a tail whip later.”

“Whatever.” Virgil, still annoyed and tired from being so abruptly woken, continues to watch Roman with a slightly dazed stare until he finally leaves the room, turning the lights off as he went.

As soon as he's gone up the stairs, Virgil falls right back to sleep.

--

It was yet another, apparently mandatory now, movie night, and Virgil isn’t complaining. He is, once again, being cuddled by Patton and is happy to cuddle back with the easy bribe of hair petting being offered. Logan sits on his other side holding one of his hands as it had soon after his acceptance been revealed that Logan was actually very lenient about – if not openly welcoming – of physical contact. Roman sitting at their feet as per usual in regard to movie nights.

Virgil’s relationship with the other Sides had quickly developed into one of relative familial comfort.

Leading to a very similar predicament to earlier that year.

Sitting for more than an hour in a dark room, surrounded by warm bodies, with plenty of comfortable pillows and blankets surrounding them – a requirement set by Roman and Patton – the perfect movie night and napping environment. So, it’s simple to say that, while Virgil had been getting better sleep as of late, he is pretty sleepy.

There is one difference though. Instead of running out of the room the second his eyes start closing, he relaxes more against Patton’s chest. With a sigh he tries to bury his face further into the body, causing Patton to let out a low, small laugh.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart. You’re safe.” He whispers to Virgil.

Virgil hums in contentedness as Logan slowly rubs the back of his hand and Roman wordlessly lowers the volume of the movie. As he slowly drifts into sleep, he can’t help but think one final conscious thought.

Man, I love my family.

------

@sleepyvirgilprompts