#we’re gonna say it’s a modern au to make things simpler

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.

His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.

She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.

Until he quits.

She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.

She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.

He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.

She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.

He’s a natural.

He takes to it like a duck to water.

She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.

He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.

And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.

He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.

But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.

He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.

Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.

He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.

He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.

He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.

Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”

He gets in.

He goes.

He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.

His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.

In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.

She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.

In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.

Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.

“Sorry, man. Running late.”

Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.

“Harrington? You’re a student here?”

He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.

“Munson? When did you get here?”

“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”

“Violin. You?”

“Guitar and songwriting.”

“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”

Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.

“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”

“What’s it trying to tell us?”

“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”

“Now?”

“Why not? Got better plans?”

Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.

“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”

Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.

“I could make dinner. If you want?”

“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”

Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.

“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”

“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”

Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.

But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.

“Sure.”

They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.

Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.

By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.

By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.

Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.

And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.

[violetwolfraven]

Javid with 20 and 21? Like from friends, teaching each other their foreign language, to dating, both fully able to speak to one another.

One of us speaks a different language and teaches the other some stuff.

and

We both speak a different language and everyone thinks we’re dirty talking but we are literally just messing with them.

Fun! I’m gonna do Hispanic!Jack here because that’s a pretty popular headcanon. And I’m writing Mike and Ike as the same because I think they are??? In real life??? Even if they’re not they are in this. Also Modern AU because that seems simpler.

((I am so sorry that this kind of sucks. I could not come up with anything good for the life of me.))

...

“So, what’s your bet?” Jack asked.

Ike shrugged, “I’m 90% sure Jojo’s got the hots for my brother, but you know, they’re both stupid and probably won’t see it, so who knows?”

This was a yearly tradition Jack had with this certain friend of his. Every year on the first day of school since 6th grade, he and Ike would place bets who would come out in the coming school year. They decided who won simply by going by whoever was closest. As this was their freshman year of high school, they’d been doing it for 3 years, and while both were pretty sure that all of their friends were gay, bi, or pan, there was always the matter of when someone would feel safe enough to admit it.

Jack was proud to say, he usually won, but so far, one of them always managed to guess correctly who was coming out this year, usually within a month of when they actually did.

“So, you think Jojo’ll come out this year?”

“It’s hard to say. He’s got issues at home. If you really wanna know my bet, I think Elmer”

“Oh, yeah. He’s got the massive hots for Buttons. I’ll take that one. I bet he comes out by the end of first semester.”

Ike snorted, “Oh, I’m betting by the end of the month.”

“The usual amount of $20?”

“Obviously. Anyone else?”

“Hmm... Sniper,” Jack decided, “By Christmas.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s a solid bet,” Ike mused, “I’m guessing by Halloween.”

“You have an unreasonable amount of faith in our friends’ self-confidence,” Jack observed.

Ike laughed, “How about the new guy? He seems like a classic closet case.”

“I’m not sure.”

“With how you’ve been looking at him, I’d place bets on you hoping he’s gay.”

Jack figured the look on his face was probably pretty good with how Ike burst out laughing.

Suddenly, Race leaned over to Jack and said something in Italian, a language they both knew damn well Jack didn’t speak.

“Racer, ya know I don’t understand ya when you talk like that.”

“Well, that,” Race flicked Jack’s forehead, “Is just how it feels, big brother!”

“What were you talking about?” Davey asked.

Davey was Jack’s new best friend (adoptive younger brothers; Crutchie, Race, and Romeo not included) who he’d met literally this morning and would already die for. Though Davey was new to the friend group, it already felt, to Jack at least, like he had been there forever.

That did not mean he felt like telling him what Ike and him had just been talking about.

Ike was laughing awkwardly.

“I heard Jojo’s name,” Davey said, seeming to be thinking out loud, “And Elmer, Buttons, and Sniper. Still, talking about your friends doesn’t narrow the possible subjects down much.”

“Hey, Ike!” Mike hollered from the other end of the group, “Get over here! Kath brought her tarot cards!”

“Oh, rad! Sorry, Jack, you’s on your own!”

Ike was all to happy to leave. Race had already started having the argument of the day with Albert. Jack was alone on this one.

“Kath does tarot readings?” Davey asked skeptically.

Jack shrugged, “She don’t really believe in that stuff. She does it cause pretendin’ she does pisses off her dad. He doesn’t need to know it ain’t even her readin’ ‘em. Elmer’s the psychic one.”

“Elmer’s psychic?”

Jack laughed. He hadn’t thought Davey’s face could hold any more skepticism, but he’d been wrong.

“Who knows? Most of his predictions do come true, though.”

“What?”

Jack laughed again, “Let him read you if ya want. You’ll see.”

“Okay. Can he tell me what you and Ike were talking about?”

Crap. Jack had hoped talking about Kath and Elmer’s psychic thing would distract him.

Long story short, Jack panicked and said something sarcastic and mildly flirty.

“Learn Spanish and I’ll tell ya everything.”

Davey chuckled, “That’s cold, Kelly.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I am signed up for Spanish. Maybe you’ll just have to teach me what you know.”

Jack was honestly quite surprised by that.

Did Davey just flirt with him?

Before he could be sure, Davey gave him one last smile and headed over towards where Elmer was shuffling Kath’s tarot cards.

...

Spoiler alert: Davey was flirting with him. Jack quite honestly couldn’t believe his luck, because after a few months of Spanish tutoring and dancing around their feelings, they finally went on an actual date, and if you hit the fast forward button to junior year, they were still going strong.

And Jack had always been somewhat of a... dad friend for pretty much everyone else in his group, but he hadn’t even realized how hard that could be until suddenly, he was getting help from a boyfriend who many of the friend group had jokingly started referring to as ‘mom.’

Also, Davey was damn near fluent in Spanish, now, thanks to the class at school combined with being close with more than a few kids who’d grown up speaking it.

Oh, yeah. And Ike won the bet about Elmer coming out within the month. Jack won the one about Sniper coming out around Christmas time. In short, they were even.

Well, Jack felt like the lucky one, having gotten a boyfriend, but Ike got one about a year later, so... yeah, actually, they were still even.

“What are you thinking about?” Davey asked in Spanish. His accent was still not great, but it was definitely better than it was freshman year.

“Nothing,” Jack said before getting an idea, “But you know what we should do?”

“What?”

“We should pretend to flirt in Spanish.”

“What?” Davey looked super confused, “Why?”

“Because it’ll be funny.”

Mike, being in earshot, sniggered, seeming to agree. Jojo looked a little confused, but he was smiling, too.

Davey rolled his eyes, then lowered his voice to what could be considered a flirty tone, “Like this?”

“Just like that. Fantastic. Let’s mess with them and see how long it takes for someone to tell us to get a room.”

“I don’t really understand why you find that funny, but sure, if you want to. What should we actually talk about?”

“How about flowers? I need to get a certain friend something for her birthday. She said she likes flowers, so do you know what ‘you-know-who’s’ favorite flower is?”

“Why can’t you just say my sister’s name?”

“Because then they’ll suspect something. What’s her favorite flower?”

“I don’t know. I think she likes tulips. And I like lilies, by the way. It’s my birthday, too.”

“Oh, noted, love.”

Mike and Jojo seemed to be helping them, using body language that said they were super uncomfortable. As the only other two at the table who spoke or understood Spanish, Jack could only hope this would work.

Mike tilted his phone so they could see the screen. It was running a timer for how long it would take for someone to tell them to get a room.

Davey smirked cheekily, “You know what she really likes? Yarn crafts. She makes scarves and sweaters. You know this.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jack put his hand on Davey’s knee, “I forgot about that. What’s her favorite color again?”

“Yellow. Well... it changes every week. Just get her whatever color. She’ll be happy.”

They kept talking like that, acting like they were flirting but talking about mundane topics, until, sure enough, Specs told them to get a room.

Impressive. Mike’s clock read that it took their friends seven minutes to notice.

Jack was definitely glad that Davey learned Spanish.

[delicioussshame]

Last part of the modern AU. Still crack.

Yuan don’t delete this message is the subject of the very suspicious email Shen Yuan just got from what looks like one of those email addresses that are good for five minutes.

Since he’s pretty sure who that’s from, he clicks on it with trepidation.

Inside it are two tickets to Málaga Airport and the following message: You’re coming to my wedding.

Shen Yuan stares at the message for five minutes.

Of course Shen Jiu eloped. Of fucking course he did. Shen Yuan can see it in his mind. Shen Jiu telling their parents he’s getting married. Their mother eagerly asking which heiress caught his eyes. Shen Jiu picking someone unsuitable. Fake tears from his mother, disapproval barely hidden under a thin cover of concern from his father. Shen Jiu having no patience for their antics.

A wedding without them somewhere in the south of Spain.

…At least he got two tickets. “Binghe, we’re going to a wedding.”

_____________

It’s the closest to a fight they ever had.

Luo Binghe outright refuses to let him go. He says it’s too dangerous.

Shen Yuan reminds him that there would be way simpler ways to kill him than invite not only Shen Yuan himself but also Binghe, by the way, to a wedding. Weddings, Binghe! Shen Yuan is sure that Luo Binghe is the kind of sap that cries at weddings.

Luo Binghe tells him he’ll warn his parents, who, after all, are the ones who hired him.

“If you stop me from going, I won’t forgive you.” There. See if a softie like Luo Binghe can resist that.

To top it all, he fixes his expression into his blandest mask.

Luo Binghe tears up.

Shen Yuan refuses to flinch. He’s going to his brother’s wedding. If anything, he needs to know what kind of pretty lady managed to bind Shen Jiu in matrimony. He never thought his brother would give up the family business for love of all things, which it must be. Shen Yuan cannot think of anything less worth giving up his future.

Luo Binghe wouldn’t fall for that reasoning, so… “Shen Jiu is my only brother. He invited me to his wedding. I cannot not be there. If you don’t want to go, I’ll go by myself. Someone from the family should be there.”

Luo Binghe wipes his teary eyes. “A-Yuan really needs to be there?”

Shen Yuan nods.

“To the point of risking his life for it?”

Inwardly, he sighs. He’s not risking his life!

Outwardly, he nods again.

“…Fine. But A-Yuan must stay by my side at all times.”

“…You can’t bring a gun on the plane.”

“I’ll get one once we’re there. I know someone.”

...Shen Jiu better not try to kill him. Can’t hold a wedding if the husband is dead.  

_____________

Who the fuck are all these people staring at him with disgust? What’s their problem? Are they just jealous their dates aren’t as hot as his?

What? They’re not.

Not that most of these people aren’t ridiculously attractive. Shen Yuan is starting to get self-conscious. Did Shen Jiu pick his bride from a model agency and these are all her friends?

“You’re Shen Jiu’s brother?”

Shen Yuan turns towards the pissed off looking lady. “Yes. You are?”

“Tell me what’s good about him.”

Shen Yuan blinks. “Why should I?” So rude. She didn’t even introduce herself.

She snorts. “Because I asked.”

“Don’t talk to my boyfriend that way.”

Well, that’s that. Luo Binghe now looks as pissed off as she does.

Great.

“This one too? Seriously, there must be something of worth to your lineage. You can’t just be good in bed, which is my only guess. I’m not going to find that out myself.”

Shen Yuan chokes.

Luo Binghe has his hand where his gun rests under his clothes.

“What I don’t understand is why I agreed to let you come to my wedding.”

“Please, I wouldn’t be here if it was just your wedding.”

Shen Yuan hasn’t seen Shen Jiu in months, but he looks well. That’s nice.

He also shouldn’t be at this pre-wedding reception. “What are you doing here!? Shouldn’t you be preparing for the ceremony?”

“Yes, but I need my best man, so shut up and come with me.”

“What, really?” It is possible Shen Yuan is touched. He never thought Shen Jiu would trust him with anything of value, ever.

“Yes. Come.”

“Don’t kill him!” That comment is intended for Luo Binghe, who is just thrilled at the way Shen Jiu is pulling at Shen Yuan, he can tell.

In the background, he can hear the woman mutters. “Oh, don’t stop yourself on my account.”

_____________

“Wait here, I need to talk to my brother. Who is not going to kill me. Tell him you’re not going to kill me.”

“If I wanted Yuan killed, he would be dead and there would be nothing you could do about it.”

“Brother! Binghe, wait here, okay? I’ll be back.”

Luo Binghe glares, knuckles turning white from his too tight hold on his gun. “You’d better, or your brother’s fiancée will never get to become his wife.”

Shen Jiu slams the door close in his face.

Great. Shen Jiu and Luo Binghe have talked to each other for less than a minute total and they already hate each other’s guts.

Not that that’s not a normal reaction around Shen Jiu. “How did you even manage to get someone to marry you if you always act like this? Who is she anyway?”

“Says you. What would our parents say if they knew you were dating your bodyguard?”

For a second, Shen Yuan really wishes he was a good enough liar to fool his brother. “Nothing. We’re not dating.”

“Please. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“It’s true!”

Shen Jiu stares at him. “It’s a cover story?”

“…Something like that.”

He keeps staring. “Something like that.”

Shen Yuan missed Shen Jiu’s unbelieving disapproval not at all. “Yes, something like that.”

“So are you pining by yourself or are you two fucking?”

Shen Yuan chokes.

“So both. Well done.”

Shen Yuan stares at the door longingly. “Don’t you have to put your clothes on, get your hair styled or something, anything? Because I cannot think of a single reason why I fought with Binghe to come here anymore, and I still have no idea how you got someone to stand you long enough to even begin to consider getting married to you.”

“You’re the one that needs help aesthetically. Don’t worry, I got you something decent for you to wear.”

Shen Yuan sighs. What he’s wearing could easily feed a family of four for weeks, but whatever. Shen Jiu’s standards have always been something else.

“Fine. Do your worst.”

He already knows he’s going to regret it.

_____________

Shen Yuan now gets the uncomprehending stares. He’s known Yue Qingyuan for all of a few hours, and he already knows he’s too nice for his brother. What the fuck happened there? Which of them catfished the other? Did Yue Qingyuan pass himself off as a beautiful woman in an attempt at getting the family fortune, and Shen Jiu was so impressed by his daring he fell in love with him?

…He could see that happening.

Not that he’s gonna ask. Shen Jiu wouldn’t tell him anyway.

Oh well, it was a nice wedding, regardless of the identity of the happy couple.

“Your brother and his husband don’t seem well matched.”

“I know, right? I don’t get it, but whatever, if he’s happy, who cares. I sure hope he’ll be, to get disowned for it.”

Luo Binghe freezes in the middle of removing his shirt for bed. “Disowned?”

Shen Yuan shrugs. “It might not last. My parents will probably get over it at some point. It’s not like they ever thought frail Shen Yuan would inherit. They’ve been grooming Shen Jiu for it all his life. Once they get used to the idea, they’ll rethink their current stance.” He hopes. Maybe if Shen Jiu procreates. Shen Yuan is pretty sure grandchildren could overcome his parents’ disappointment.

“…Would you get disowned if you married someone your family didn’t approve of?”                      

“Probably, not that it matters. I’m not getting married anytime soon.”

“…Why not?”

He shrugs. “Who would marry me? The women who come looking only want my family’s status and fortune. Now that Shen Jiu is completely out of the picture, I suppose it’ll get worse. I’m fine with my current situation, thanks.”

“…I would marry you.”

Shen Yuan ignores the way his pulse race. Instead, he pats Luo Binghe’s head. “Thank you, but Luo Binghe should marry someone he really loves, not saddle himself with me. He can do better.”

Luo Binghe, for some reason, looks outraged.

What? Did he say something wrong?

“What’s that nonsense? How could I possibly do better than A-Yuan?”

Shen Yuan blinks at him. “Huh, you could just look around yourself? Everyone that was here tonight is better looking than me? They’re not better looking than you, obviously, but still, they’d be a better fit with you.”

“Is A-Yuan blind? Everyone would agree he was the most beautiful person here.”

Shen Yuan knows for a fact that’s a lie. Like Shen Jiu would have allowed for that. “Did you drink? Did someone drug you? Oh god are you okay, how many fingers?”

“I’m fine. I’ve been careful. Four fingers.”

Shen Yuan is sure that Luo Binghe’s definition of being careful was closer to paranoia than anything else. Still. “Are you sure you don’t want to go see a doctor? I’m sure Shen Jiu can find us someone if you need to.”

“The only treatment I need is A-Yuan by my side. Forever would be good.”

Luo Binghe can be so sappy.

Shen Yuan doesn’t need that kind of service. “Seriously, this is nice, don’t get me wrong, but Binghe really does deserve better. He should look for someone to build a family with.”

Maybe Luo Binghe really did ingest something bad. He doesn’t seem well.

“A-Yuan, I don’t understand. I don’t want anyone but you. Why would I? By your side is where I’m happiest.”

Luo Binghe can’t be this foolish? “You know that’s not true. You should pick someone that, I don’t know, I’m not the person for this, all I have as reference are terrible novels, but someone whose smile makes you happy? Someone whose face you’d want to wake up to? Someone you share interests with? Someone you can see yourself grow old with? Not someone who can buy you nice things and that’s it.”

Now he’s really hoping Luo Binghe is drunk out of his ass. That way he won’t remember Shen Yuan lecturing him on what should be obvious.

“…A-Yuan cannot possibly think his only worth is his wealth?”

“Well, no.” Shen Yuan isn’t ugly? He’s just not anywhere near as hot as Luo Binghe. He’s smart? He knows things? He’s available? He’s… other nice things he can’t think of right now. He has qualities!

Just not any he can think of that would make Luo Binghe… love… him. “You could still do better. Binghe has so much going for him! He’s charming, kind, a good cook, intelligent, trained to keep someone safe, outgoing, good in bed, charismatic, fit, patient, I could go on! He should get a nice wife to pamper him.”

Luo Binghe’s smile is stunning. “I have no interest in being pampered by some woman. I’d much prefer to keep pampering A-Yuan, and being pampered by him.”

“That’s just because it’s convenient! We already live together, so maintaining a love life with someone else would be hard for you. Once you’re done with this job, you’ll find me a much less attractive prospect.”

“I don’t want this job to end. No, that’s not it. I don’t mind not being paid to stay with A-Yuan. If I need to, I’ll get a more regular job as a local security consultant or something similar. But I’m not taking another full-time client. I want to stay close to you.”

“But that’s…” Dumb? Ridiculous? A bad life choice? “probably not a good idea. Don’t throw your future away for me.”

“Shen Yuan is my future.”

Well.

That’s… clear.

Huh.

“Wait, when you were saying you loved me, were you being serious?”

“A-Yuan! What else could I have been!”

Shit.

…

…

“Is A-Yuan not just shy? He doesn’t care about me?”

Oh no. Oh no please don’t start crying now when Shen Yuan can barely get two neurons to work together. “No that’s not it, I care, I just didn’t think Binghe did.”

Well that sounds terrible. “Forget that, that’s not it either, I thought Binghe would finish his job and move on to his next client and that would be it. A nice memory, but nothing more.”

Aannd Binghe is crying. Damn fucking it.

Fuck Shen Jiu and his damned wedding. He hopes his wedding night is terrible. “Binghe, don’t cry, I’m right here, aren’t I? Sorry I’m an idiot, I don’t have much romantic experience. See, that’s why I thought you would go looking elsewhere.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Shen Yuan is patting Luo Binghe’s back and wishing he had the capacity to manage this. “Let’s have a honeymoon too.”

Luo Binghe pushes back to look at him. “What?”

“Let’s go on a trip somewhere nice, just the two of us, somewhere where no one cares who we are. We’ll figure it all out after, okay? Where would you like to go? I think Shen Jiu is going to Bora Bora, but then again I wasn’t really listening so maybe it was somewhere else. Is there something you want to visit?”

Luo Binghe wipes his eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Take your time. We’ll have lots of it, okay?”

“…Okay.”

Who ever thought Shen Yuan of all people had the ability to soothe distressed people? Dealing with his own issues is more than enough, thanks.

He keeps patting Luo Binghe’s back uselessly, keeping track of his irregular breathing until it’s smooth against. “Better?”

“...Yes.”

“Good.”

“…I didn’t know A-Yuan could be this oblivious.”

“That would make two of us.”

Luo Binghe laughs. Such a nice sound. “See? A-Yuan is funny, kind, mindful. I’m lucky to have him.”

Not anywhere near as much as Shen Yuan is. “See that you remember that tomorrow morning when you feel better and realise the consequences of your choices.”

Luo Binghe snorts. “Shen Yuan is the one that needs to remember what he promised. We’re going on vacation. And we’re going to talk. A lot.”

…Shit.

Well, he signed up for it. “I’ll call my travel agent.”

…He still thinks it’ll be a better trip than Shen Jiu’s.

[bettydice]

(Planning the Day) To Meet You

Wangxian, Modern AU, Slow Burn, E-Rated

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter 3

Tuesday, Sixth Day with Wei Ying

Lan Wangji wakes up with a hard cock, again. This time, he can remember his dream. Not every image is clear, not every word spoken still audible. But he remembers enough to know that like Nie Huaisang’s poetry book, it is not as indecent as he expected. There was a kiss, but it was almost chaste. They were lying on Lan Wangji’s couch, Wei Ying on top, smiling down at him. One kiss, just one kiss and then Wei Ying put his head on Lan Wangji’s chest and fell asleep in his arms.

Lan Wangji wants that. He wants that more than what he’s envisioned in the shower. If he can have only one of those two, he wants gentle kisses and falling asleep together and feeling so, so warm and happy…

Oh.

Lan Wangji has fallen for Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji has often mildly wondered whether it would happen for him one day. After what his brother went through, he has occasionally feared it. Because he had known that he would be like Xichen. That he’d fall quickly and completely and stubbornly. When it seemed that maybe it would not happen for him, he hadn’t been disappointed. Life seemed to be much quieter and simpler… without.

Now it has happened. Wei Wuxian has happened.

Now that he knows what this is, that it is not just misplaced loneliness or boredom, he feels… relief. It does not feel scary. These feelings are not a bother. Liking Wei Ying is not bothersome.

Now that he knows, he can adapt.

Instead of letting Wei Wuxian disrupt his routine, he can include him in it.

Today, he packs more lunch than is strictly necessary for only Lan Wangji. He shares it with Wei Ying. He didn’t expect to be so fond of the sight of Wei Ying eating carrots.

(Wei Wuxian’s book for the day: “Easy Recipes For Lazy Cooks” . Why does Gusu University Library even have this?)

(Things he learns about Wei Wuxian during lunch:

He has a sister called Jiang Yanli and yesterday he visited her and her toddler, who is “the loudest baby on the planet, Lan Zhan, he somehow must have gotten his uncle’s temper, even though Jiang Cheng would never yell at a baby or an animal, everyone else is fair game though, except maybe Wen Qing, I don’t know if it’s because of fear or attraction or both, who knows with this guy and…” and then he abruptly stops talking and for one second looks so sad that Lan Wangji almost drops his lunch box. Jiang Cheng must be his brother. What happened, why is Wei Wuxian sad? He should never be sad. How can Lan Wangji help, how can he… Wei Wuxian smiles again and changes the topic.

Wei Wuxian likes clementines and is disappointed that Lan Wangji didn’t bring any.

“Aaaah, nooo, what is that over there? Do you see those clouds, Lan Zhan? Don’t tell me it’s supposed to rain today?” “Mn.” “Really? Lan Zhan, say it isn’t so! A-Yuan will be so disappointed! We wanted to go visit the ants today! Mhm, do you think I could keep ants as a pet?” “Wei Wuxian.” “You’re right, you’re right. They’d be happier outside.”

Who is A-Yuan? Why… ants? There’s so many things he wants to ask Wei Ying, he wants to know everything about him. But Wei Ying should tell him at his own pace. Or not tell him at all. Lan Wangji will not pry.)

Wednesday, Seventh Day with Wei Ying

Liking Wei Wuxian is exciting. It is the first time Lan Wangji feels like this and now that he’s made it through those first few confusing days, he’s determined to treasure every moment of what comes after. Of liking Wei Ying.

He has no plans of doing such things as confessing or flirting. Or rather, no immediate plans for the first and no idea how to go about the latter anyway. For now, he just wants to enjoy how warm his heart feels whenever he sees Wei Wuxian. How he feels like smiling, when Wei Wuxian does something he’d find annoying if anyone else did it.

Lan Wangji wants to do things that make Wei Ying smile. He wants to see all the different kinds of smiles that Wei Ying has to offer.

There’s one thing he aches to do, though… He would like to call him Wei Ying. He likes how Wei Wuxian calls him ‘Lan Zhan���, how it always sounds playful, as though it is a name that brings him happiness. He wonders if Wei Wuxian would feel the same if he calls him ‘Wei Ying’. Probably not, he is not a playful man. But he wants… Wants to colour the name with the intimacy it deserves.

Once again, he cannot concentrate on his paper. The deadline is next week and the deadline Lan Wangji has set for himself is on Saturday. He is maybe halfway done.

However, what is more urgent to him right now is to figure out the perfect moment to call Wei Wuxian ‘Wei Ying’. To Wei Wuxian it probably will not matter. He offered the name up so easily after all. But maybe having Lan Wangji call him that will have some meaning. Maybe he’ll be able to tell that it means something to Lan Wangji - though hopefully he won’t know quite how much.

When the moment comes, it is a small one, but to Lan Wangji it is perfect.

Wei Wuxian’s bun has almost come undone and he takes out his hair tie, to tie it up properly again. The hair tie snaps. Wei Wuxian pouts. Lan Wangji always has spares. He takes out his spare hair tie. He holds it out to Wei Wuxian.

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian freezes and stares. He blinks. He blinks more rapidly. He stares at the light blue hair tie resting on Lan Wangji’s palm. Then he smiles . A smile Lan Wangji has not seen yet. A new, impossibly bright smile. Just for him. Lan Wangji returns that smile, even though his might be a tad more restrained. It is no less sincere.

(Wei Wuxian’s books for the day: apparently any book he could find about bees and beekeeping. Hm. Better than ant-keeping, he supposes.)

(Things he learns about Wei Wuxian during lunch:

Wei Ying does not, in fact, plan on keeping bees. He just finds them “cute”. Fair enough.

Lan Wangji brought clementines today. Wei Ying is delighted. Another smile for his collection.

He is meeting Nie Huaisang for drinks later. “Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan, you don’t want to come, do you? We’re just gonna have some beer in the park. Huaisang said you would never sit on the grass, though. I could bring a blanket? Haha, ignore me, I’m just talking nonsense, of course you don’t want to-” “Busy.” “Ah yes, of course you already have plans! Of course, of course, Lan Zhan must be so popular! Everyone will want to meet him when he’s not busy in the library! I’m so lucky to get to see you every day, aren’t I?” Lan Wangji does not know what to say. Before he can say that Wei Ying is wrong, Lan Wangji is the lucky one, Wei Ying has already changed the topic again. )

Thursday, Eighth Day with Wei Ying, First Day of Lan Wangji’s Heartbreak

Lan Wangji is determined to get a lot of work done today. Just because he’s in love, doesn’t mean he has to neglect his studies. He has it all worked out: he will not look up any more books. He has enough quotes and enough notes for three papers. It is time to focus solely on the actual writing part.

He has managed to get the barebones for a full chapter down, when Wei Wuxian appears.

Wei Ying is wearing Lan Wangji’s hair tie.

Lan Wangji forgets how to breathe for a few seconds. Oh. Oh.

He is not going to get anything else done today.

He spends about an hour switching between looking at Wei Ying and looking at Wei Ying’s reflection in the window. He considers this to be an excellent use of his time.

And then Wei Wuxian’s phone buzzes and Lan Wangji opens his mouth to remind Wei Wuxian to put it on silent mode, a reminder he has to give every day, when -

“Oh no, Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, look! Ah, I cannot handle it, my little radish is the cutest!”

Wei Wuxian shoves his phone in Lan Wangji’s face and on the screen he sees a child grinning at the camera, full of mischief. The child could be any age between 2 and 6; Lan Wangji has not met many children in his life, so he doesn’t know. The child seems to be responsible for the many braids decorating the hair of a man about their age, who is smiling gently while taking the selfie.

“A-Yuan is a natural born stylist, isn’t he? What an improvement, don’t you think? Wen Ning’s hair is so lovely but usually it’s even more of a mess than mine. Ah, he looks so handsome, haha!”

There’s a strange buzzing in Lan Wangji’s ears. He watches as Wei Wuxian takes his phone back and then begins typing a reply excitedly and muttering exactly what he is typing for Lan Wangji to hear.

“Cuties!!! Can’t wait to see my boys later!”

He feels faint. Wei Wuxian has a child. Wei Wuxian is married, with a kid. Wei Wuxian is a dad. He has a very cute family. He takes his son to go see ants when it’s not raining. His husband makes him congee in the morning.

Lan Wangji closes his laptop, collects his pens and notes and puts it all in his bag.

“Oh? Time for lunch? Lan Zhan, it’s not even 12 yet! Are you very hungry today? I understand completely. Did you maybe bring more clementines, they were -”

“Not lunch. Leaving.”

“Oh… You have to go? And here I thought that you only go home to sleep! Even Lan Zhan can’t study all day, so no one can expect me to! I should tell this to my professors. Let me just grab my things and -”

“Leaving.”

And with that, he turns around and leaves. Flees.

(Wei Wuxian’s books for the day: Lan Wangji cannot remember.)

(Things he learns about Wei Wuxian during lunch: -)

Lan Wangji spends the rest of the day… not thinking about Wei Ying.

He eats his packed lunch, too much for one person, at his kitchen table - not thinking about Wei Ying.

He vacuums and cleans his windows and wipes dust and does laundry - not thinking about Wei Ying.

He accepts a delivery (a coffee maker) - not thinking of Wei Ying.

He plays the guqin for an hour - not thinking about Wei Ying.

Dinner, exercise, looking at pictures of Cloud and Jade (his bunnies), reading - never thinking about Wei Ying.

Lying in bed, falling asleep - not thinking about Wei Ying, his smile, his dimples, his…

Not thinking.

Friday, Ninth Day with Wei Ying, Second Day of Lan Wangji’s Heartbreak

Lan Wangji tries his best to function as usual. His morning is like every morning. He arrives at the library like every morning. He opens his laptop, takes out his notes.

He stares at the blinking cursor.

He stares at his notes.

He stares at the blinking cursor.

“Lan Zhan! Good morning!”

How is it already time for Wei Wuxian to arrive? Lan Wangji is not prepared. He’d wanted, needed some time to compose himself.

But now Wei Wuxian is here, wearing his hair tie once again. However, this time, the sight makes him miserable. He’d thought that it had meant something, that it… He is so foolish. Maybe Wei Ying just likes the colour blue. Maybe all his other hair ties have snapped and he cannot be bothered to buy new ones.

Wei Wuxian hasn’t sat down yet, hasn’t taken over his side of the table. He’s staring at Lan Wangji, frowning. Waiting.

Ah…

“Morning.”

Lan Wangji is pretty confident that it sounded like a perfectly normal greeting, but Wei Wuxian still hesitates.

“Lan Zhan… are you okay? Is everything alright? You left so quickly yesterday and looked so pale… I was wo-”

Wei Wuxian flushes and then laughs sheepishly. Why is he…

“Ah, Lan Zhan, you’ve finally succeeded in making me come to the library earlier! ‘Two hours is not enough, Wei Wuxian.’ Your words must have finally sunk in!”

He keeps filling the air with his chatter, as he finally sits down and gets out his notebook and then… they both notice that he does not have any books.

“Oops, look at me, so unprepared. That is what happens, when I get here too early! Now I have to go back and look for something good to read! Or I’ll just have to read about…” He stretches out one arm and leans so far to the side, that he almost falls off his chair, but eventually manages to grab a random book without having to get up. “ ‘Agricultural Reform and Developments of 19th Century Russia’ . Ah… hahaha, I’m sure there’s something to be learned from this!”

“Wei Ying.”

Lan Wangji does not know whether he’s reacting to Wei Wuxian’s nervous energy or whether Wei Wuxian is picking up on Lan Wangji’s inner turmoil. He wants to reassure him that everything is alright, but…

“Mhm? Oh, Lan Zhan, I know, I know, no talking in the library!”

Ah, he hadn’t even thought of that.

If Wei Wuxian isn’t talking anymore, maybe he can focus on feeling… not like this. He wants to return to enjoying his time with Wei Wuxian. Maybe once he has shut down his inappropriate feelings, it can be possible.

Wei Wuxian stays quiet, but keeps throwing glances at him and he chews on his lip even more than usual.

Lan Wangji tries to ignore it, he really does, but…

“Wei Ying?”

Wei Wuxian looks as though he’s caught him eating prawn chips while handling a precious first edition.

“Ahaha, nothing, nothing.”

“Wei Ying.”

“It’s just… you’re frowning a lot today, Lan Zhan.”

“...”

“I know, you think you frown a lot every day, but today it’s different! You have many different frowns, Lan Zhan, didn’t you know? Ah, I’m being silly, aren’t I? Just… are you sick? Are you worried about something? Is your paper not going well? Can I help? I know I seem as though I don’t know anything useful, but I’m actually very smart and -”

“I know Wei Ying is smart.”

“Oh…”

“I’m… fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s just… family.”

He does not say “My heart aches, because liking Wei Ying is beautiful and I don’t want it to end.” He does not say “I didn’t realise I wanted these things until I thought of sharing them with you.”

“Aaah, family issues. I know too well, don’t worry, Lan Zhan. I know how painful… I know! Lan Zhan, let’s not do work today! I’ll take you out, okay? We can go have ice cream and throw pebbles into the pond next to the Department of Botany and -”

“Wei Ying.”

Lan Wangji wants that. He wants that so much. But he does not think he can handle Wei Ying caring for him today. The more he’d try to share his warmth with Lan Wangji, the sadder he’d be that he has to let go of these feelings he wanted to feel for as long as possible.

“I should go… take care of it.”

He thinks Wei Wuxian looks disappointed for a second, but then his smile is back on his face.

“You should! Lan Zhan, so responsible! You… you should go and take care of family issues, talk it out before… yes… “

“Mn.”

He packs his things and is relieved to see his hands don’t look as shaky as they feel.

“Wait. Lan Zhan.”

“Mn?”

“Will I… uhm, will you be here on Monday?”

“Monday.”

He’ll have the whole weekend to get a handle on his feelings. It didn’t take him much longer to fall for Wei Ying, surely it is long enough to… undo it?

He doesn't like lying, not even to himself. How could there ever be enough time to stop liking Wei Wuxian.

He’ll still have to try.

Saturday, Wei Ying-less, Full of Heartbreak

Lan Wangji is not yet ready to think about…

He has a paper to finish anyway. There’s no reason he has to miss his set deadline, just because he’s heartbroken.

Lan Wangji works on his paper from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. Then it is done.

He meditates on the couch for an hour. It is not napping, he might be lying down and his eyes might be closed and maybe he nodded off for a tiny second there but it is not napping.

Then he prints out his paper and goes to have dinner with his brother.

Lan Xichen is worried about him. His brother has always been the only one to accurately gauge what mood Lan Wangji is in. Well… until…

“You have many different frowns, Lan Zhan, didn’t you know?”

Wei Wuxian has different smiles, Lan Wangji has different frowns. Even if Wei Wuxian wasn’t married, Lan Wangji should not burden him with his frowning heart.

“Wangji!”

Apparently his brother has already called his name a few times.

“Ah… I’m fine.”

He can’t see Xichen’s face from his current position, but he can hear him making his best effort to not roll his eyes.

“Wangji, you’re clearly struggling with something. You asked me to read your paper to ‘check whether it is written in a language humans can understand’.”

Mhm, he did say that, didn’t he.

“I’ve just been… distracted.”

“And what has distracted you so much that you needed to lie down on my carpet for, let me see, twenty minutes now?”

Ah, yes, he did lie down.

“Playing with bunnies.”

It is not a lie, technically. Cloud is currently sitting on top of his forehead.

Xichen sighs and then sits down next to Lan Wangji. Cloud is being lifted from his forehead and replaced by Xichen’s hand stroking his hair. Like he did when they were younger, much younger.

“Not a child.”

He does not move his head though and Xichen does not stop stroking his hair.

“But you’re sad.”

“Mn.”

“You were really happy last week.”

“Mn.”

“And now you’re sad. What happened, Wangji?”

“I… ”

Xichen doesn’t say anything, just waits for him to find the words.

“I’m in love.”

“You met someone?”

“Met him in the library.”

“And why are you sad? Did he… is he not a nice person?”

“Wei Ying is… the most…” How could he find words to describe Wei Ying? It would be impossible for anyone, but especially for Lan Wangji, who keeps most of his words in his head. “… wonderful.”

“Why are you lying on my carpet then?”

Xichen really is the best brother for Lan Wangji. Even though getting information out of Lan Wangji is like complex brain surgery, he never grows impatient. And he keeps stroking his hair.

“My feelings are improper.”

“Why…”

“I think… he’s married.”

Lan Wangji squeezes his eyes shut as he says that.

“You think he’s married?”

“Mn.”

“Did he tell you?”

“Indirectly.”

“Wangji.”

“Picture of… his son and husband.”

“Did he say that they were his son and his husband?”

“... No.”

“Did you ask? ”

“... No.”

“Wangji, honestly.”

Maybe even Xichen reaches the end of his patience eventually.

“There’s no reason for Wei Wuxian not to be married.”

“Lan Wangji!”

Xichen slaps his forehead. Well, it is more of a determined pat. But coming from Xichen, it definitely counts as a slap. Lan Wangji huffs and then sits up, so he can frown at his brother. Xichen closes his eyes and Lan Wangji is sure that he’s rolling his eyes behind his eyelids. When he opens them again, he smiles, albeit a tad strained.

“Wangji, I know that this is all… unfamiliar to you. But before you go ahead and play out a tragic love story all on your own… Why don’t you ask this Wei Ying whether he is actually married?”

That sounds… reasonable, but also impossible.

“And, even if he has a partner… that doesn’t make your feelings improper. You’re in love, that’s beautiful, Wangji.”

“I like... liking Wei Ying.”

Xichen smiles at him and puts Cloud in Lan Wangji’s lap. Lan Wangji stares down at her and pats her head the way she likes it.

“I don’t want to stop liking him.”

A teardrop falls down on Cloud’s ear.

His brother doesn’t say anything, but after a short while, Jade’s grey-tipped ears appear in his view and now he has two bunnies in his lap. No more teardrops fall.

“Why don’t you sleep here tonight, Wangji? I’ll make us congee in the morning.”

“Alright.”

For a while, they sit in silence, both petting the bunnies in Lan Wangji’s lap. Until Lan Wangji’s heart hurts a little less.

Sunday, Wei Ying-less, Maybe a little less Heartbreak?

Lan Wangji wakes up well rested. He doesn’t sleep here often anymore, but it is still his home. Even though Xichen turned his old room into a yoga-physical therapy-massage-exercise studio after Lan Wangji moved out to live closer to university. Just like the presence of his brother, this flat instantly makes him feel calm and safe. The bunnies help, too. Though maybe he should have a word with his brother about his… love for plants. Every time Lan Wangji visits, his brother introduces him to a new plant. At this point, there aren’t many free surfaces left. Lan Wangji doesn’t mind plants, but he worries that this means that Xichen will see even less need to leave the house.

They have breakfast together on the balcony. They’re still wearing their pyjamas, definitely breaking Lan Rules,which is something they like to indulge in when they spend Sunday mornings together. Lan Wangji feels… better.

He says as much to his brother, who looks relieved.

“Listen, Wangji. I was thinking… The name Wei Wuxian feels familiar.”

“Nie Huaisang is friends with him.”

“Is he? Oh, why don’t I ask Mingjue-”

“No.”

“Why not? Mingjue is very discreet, he could-”

“Xichen, Mingjue is not discreet.”

“Haha, maybe not. You could ask Huaisang then.”

Lan Wangji does under no circumstances want Nie Huaisang to know about… things.

“Huaisang meddles. ”

“What if-”

“No.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to talk to Wei Wuxian yourself.”

“... ugh.”

They sit in silence for a while, drinking green tea and enjoying the morning sun.

“Wangji.”

“Mn.”

“I think… I want to start working again.”

Lan Wangji looks at his brother and smiles.

Monday, Tenth Day with Wei Ying

Lan Wangji is excited for this day. Xichen is right, there is no reason for him to try to stop or change his feelings for Wei Ying. He will ask him during lunch about his family situation. It doesn’t matter what he replies. Wei Wuxian’s friendship is a gift and no lesser than anything else. It is enough to spend time with him and love him quietly.

He prepares well. He makes and packs lunch for two (plenty of clementines). He packs an extra thermos with coffee for Wei Ying. He spent an hour yesterday with the instructions of his coffee machine and looking up on the internet how to make good coffee. Then he did three trial runs. To him, they all tasted the same, but then all coffee is just different flavours of awful to him. Wei Ying does not seem to have high standards for coffee anyway.

Since his first paper is done ( “I’m a human and I can understand this perfectly, Wangji. Well done.” ), he spends the time until Wei Ying arrives meticulously planning out a work schedule for his next paper that is due in two weeks.

Wei Wuxian arrives at exactly 10:30 a.m., wearing the blue hair tie, a smile, shorts and his flip flops that look as though they’ll fall apart at any minute and Lan Wangji’s heart is at ease. He smiles at Wei Ying.

Thud.

Wei Wuxian has dropped his book and is staring at Lan Wangji, eyes wide open. A flush dusts his cheeks.

“Wei Ying?”

“Lan Zhan! You can’t just… you… “ Wei Ying blinks a couple of times and then bends down to collect his book. Today he’s reading… Lan Wangji flushes.

“ Wei Ying. ”

“Huh?” Wei Ying follows Lan Wangji’s look and then starts laughing. “Ah, this? ‘Hard Times Call For Gentle Loving’ ? Huaisang said it’s a classic, and he can always be relied on for good reading material!”

The cover shows two muscled men kissing. They’re naked except for a conveniently draped blanket. The back of Lan Wangji’s neck feels hot.

“Not in the library.”

Not in the library in front of Lan Wangji. Please.

“Lan Zhan, I always follow your rules but this one makes no sense! What else should I do here if not read? Besides, I got this from here!”

Whoever is running Gusu University Library is doing a very questionable job.

“Don’t worry, you can read it after I’m done! Do you want me to mark the best parts for you?”

“Wei Ying!”

“Lan Zhan!”

“... don’t use highlighters on library books.”

Wei Ying looks delighted and Lan Wangji feels his own lips twitch, even though his neck still feels hot. Wei Ying suddenly clutches his chest.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, what are you doing to me! All these smiles today, I can’t handle it! Are you feeling better then? Are your family matters settled?”

“Mn.”

“I’m so glad! I was hoping all weekend that you’d feel better today!”

“Wei Ying… thank you.”

“Eh? For what?”

“Caring.”

Wei Ying opens his mouth, but then seems to think better of whatever he was about to say and simply looks Lan Wangji in the eyes. Lan Wangji holds his gaze and the moment stretches on and maybe he should ask now, why should he wait until lunch and then -

Wei Wuxian laughs, shakes his head and then opens his indecent book.

(Wei Wuxian’s book for the day: INDECENT)

(Things he learns about Wei Wuxian during lunch:

He really likes the coffee Lan Wangji made.

He’s still sore because Wen Qing made him clean all Sunday. “All the windows, too! Who cleans windows, Lan Zhan? Well, you probably do. But you’re so tall, you don’t need to balance on a wonky chair to reach all corners! I almost fell! So dangerous, why do people clean? It’ll just get dirty again!”

He’s more than halfway through ‘Hard Times Call For Gentle Loving’ and summarises the best parts for Lan Wangji. The sun is very hot today.

He does not learn whether Wei Wuxian is married, because he forgot to ask. He will ask tomorrow.)

Tuesday, Eleventh Day with…

Wei Wuxian does not come.

[itscaptainyoulittlemaggot]

Professor Rogers’ Office (Part Four)

Burdened with a hangover, you and Steve meet Bucky and Natasha for a lunch date that descends into yet more drunkenness, all in the name of becoming more involved in each others’ lives. 

Notes: Professor!Steve x Reader; College AU; Strictly 18+; There’s smut coming in part five. 

Professor Rogers’ Office Masterlist

Steve Rogers Writing Challenge

Saturday morning. Light cracked through the curtains, bathing you both in an obnoxious shade of orange. It was 10AM but you wondered whether sleep had even touched your eyes. 

You and Steve had been up until five, working on the first draft of your research project together. The pair of you had been there since midday, sitting on the floor, backs against the sofa, encircled by research papers and textbooks, notes and more books. Steve was a stickler for writing things out by hand, much to your  annoyance, but he had given you the most beautiful leather bound journal to write your draft in. He reasoned that it would make you think more about every argument, paragraph, line and even every word you put into your work. 

That it did. You looked up at the ceiling, thinking about everything, muttering everything out loud. Everything was assessed by Steve and once he approved of what you were trying to say, you’d neatly note it in the book. It was a slow way of doing things. Not helped by Steve starting to ply you both by whisky by three in the afternoon. But progress was being made. He didn’t distract you any more than he needed to. Steve was helping. Just like he said he would. 

Three sheets to the wind, half a dissertation and two bottles of whisky later, the pair of you collapsed into bed. Steve nodded off instantly, but you just laid there, on your back, staring at the ceiling. 

It felt like you had been doing that for the six hours you had been there. Your brain still wrapped up in a giddy, drunken daze, pondering every glorious detail of the last few weeks. You looked over at Steve, who was still asleep in a cocoon of blankets. ‘So this is what it’s like to have somebody,’ you mused, smiling to yourself. 

It was so foreign but so incredibly comforting. You wondered why you had tried to run from it in the beginning. Now you just let it envelope you. 

You had agreed to start small. Your biggest fear was judgment from those closest to you and Steve. And there were so many inlets in your relationship for that to seep in. So many things people might tell you were wrong. They might tell you the age gap was to wide, or you too naive. Or that you were merely a rebound. So many worries.

But you were both determined to make it work. For that to happen, you had to get your friends on board. You already knew Bucky and Natasha from their wedding. That, according to you both, was starting small.

Setting about planning the day in your mind, how to steer the potential conversations into easy territory, how to get them to like you, fielding what you could remember about the couple… your train of thought quickly derailed as Steve began to stir. 

He draped a heavy arm around your waist and pulled himself into your side. “Do we have to go?” Steve mumbled against your skin. 

You carded your fingers through his hair, laughing to yourself. “Why? You hungover?”

“Yup.”

“Pop a couple painkillers, chug some water and jump in the shower. Moisturise or something. You’ll be fine.”

Steve didn’t speak, instead, he responded by wailing, nuzzling at your skin. You were having none of it.

“This was your idea.”

“Not my best.”

“We’re going.”

What Steve didn’t know was how much you didn’t want to go either.

As it turned out, ‘lunch’ with Bucky and Natasha, meant a completely different thing to them. 

The venue for the meeting was a place called ‘The Raven,’ a small and dingy rock bar on the other side of town specialising in beer, beer and more beer. Not exactly something either of you craved after last night; nor was it the type of place you and Steve would ever frequent. 

Punters, big burly figures in denim vests and bandanas, eyed you both as you scanned the room for Steve’s friends. To them, the pair of you were possibly the nerdiest looking creatures you had ever seen.

You clung to Steve’s arm as you made your way further into the dimly lit room, peeking into each of the booths. Finally, tucked away in the far corner, nursing a stein each, was Bucky and Natasha. Their surroundings fitted them to a tee. 

“Steve!” Bucky beamed, shooting to his feet to hug his friend. He turned his attention to you, giving you a quick look up and down, before hugging you too. “Girl Steve!”

No sooner had your face parted ways with Bucky’s chest but you were being smothered by a mane of red hair and overwhelmed by the scent of Christmas candles and caramel. 

When Natasha was done, she looked up at Bucky. “Look, they even dress the same, how sweet!” she cooed. 

Neither you nor Steve knew how to take that comment; you just glanced at each other and grimaced. 

“Okay, nerds, I’m gonna get a round in, what are you having?” Bucky said, clasping his hands together. 

Steve shook his head. “No, I-I’m good for now, Buck.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows and pointed at Steve. “Beer.” Then he pointed at you.

“I don’t know if I should…”

“Beer. Good.”

You, Steve and Natasha took your seats in the red leather booth. She sat opposite you and smirked. 

“Nat, I know that look.”

“I think it’s great you’re getting back on your feet,” she said, reaching over to touch Steve’s arm. “She’s cute.”

Bucky came back to the booth, carrying a tray of steins. Your stomach churned at the thought of having to drink one of those. 

“James, don’t you think they’re cute?” Natasha drawled. 

Bucky paused as he dished out the beers, looking at your and Steve with a furrowed brow. “I guess.”

“You guys definitely make a cute couple, I’m so happy.”

“Is this a joke?” you snapped. 

Natasha was taken aback. Steve and Bucky too. “Why would it be a joke?”

You struggled to form words. Steve put his hand on your arm reassuringly. 

“All I’m saying is that Steve looks happy. I’m happy you’re making my friend happy because god knows Peggy never did,” she said defensively. 

You could feel the embarrassment welling up inside you. Not even ten minutes with these people, you were already making a fool out of yourself. “Sorry,” you said quietly. 

“Never calling you cute again, by the way, point taken,” Natasha joked. 

After that, you zoned out, looking down at your drink. Unsure of what to say, and disgusted by the thought of drinking again to aid you on your way. You let the grown ups have their own conversation, not tuning in or saying a word. 

Then you felt an elbow to your rib. 

You sat bolt upright. “Huh?” 

“Tell ‘em what you do,” Steve said. 

You stumbled your way towards an answer: “Oh, uh… I study history. Modern… European history. German reunification is my main sort of focus with that.”

Bucky and Natasha listened intently, their eyes lighting up as you began talking about your dissertation, even if sounded clinical and matter of fact to you. They were fascinated. 

“And what are you gonna do after college? Are you gonna go to grad school?” Bucky asked.

“No… I don’t really know. I kind of just studied history on a whim because of my parents. It’s not really my passion.”

“Well what is?” Natasha asked.

“I always wanted to be a painter, you know. But my folks always told me I wasn’t good enough for art school, that it wasn’t a viable career, no money in it. But yeah, I might go into high school teaching. Maybe.”

“But if it’s your passion, why not just go for it? Surely being happy is better than pleasing your parents? Right?” Natasha pressed. 

Steve turned to you, “and you’re smart. Really smart. I mean, you could do whatever you wanted.” He faced Bucky and Natasha again. “Did I mention how smart she is? Straight A’s!”

“Yeah that’s because you’re marking all my papers.”

“Sleeping with the teacher, where have I heard that before?” Bucky remarked, settling back into his seat and winking at Steve. 

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at Steve. 

His cheeks were scarlet and his hands were over his eyes. Half his beer was gone. “Listen, listen,” he said, attempting to stifle a laugh. “I was B student at best with a BEST FRIEND who constantly got me into all kinds of trouble and precisely zero prospects. There was nothing else I could do!”

“So you fucked… what was her name again?” Bucky continued.

“Professor van Dyne,” Steve admitted. 

“She’s gotta be a hundred years old right now,” Bucky said, shaking his head. 

The conversation had driven you to take the first sip of your now warm beer.

“I guess what I’m saying is, you have prospects,” Steve concluded, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“So I don’t have to sleep with you anymore? Great, bye!” 

“So are you just naturally smart, or how hard do you have to work?” Natasha asked. 

“Nooooo. Not by a long shot,” you began. “I have to study a lot. It’s a lot of stress. I’ll just be glad when college is over. It’s not for me, really.”

“Really stresses you out, huh?” she said.

“Put it this way: Steve’s probably seen me cry more than my own mother.”

“You know, Steve’s a crybaby too,” Bucky added. 

“Aaaaaaaaand I gotta take a leak,” Steve said. 

Steve excused himself, leaving you alone with his friends. Pressured into talking to them, you asked them what they did for a living. 

“I run a shooting school,” Bucky said proudly. 

“And I teach a self defence class for women in disadvantaged communities.”

“We both used to work in law enforcement,” Bucky added.

“He worked for the NYPD and I was FBI for a while. We had so many run ins on the job, so many pissing contests. But I knew he liked me,” Natasha explained.

“But when we decided we wanted a life together, we just decided to pack it in. Have a simpler life.”

“And we couldn’t be happier,” Natasha concluded, smacking her hand to Bucky’s chest. 

Badass and happy? Steve returned, just as you had concluded that his friends were truly sickening. 

“How did you meet this guy?” you asked, cocking your thumb in Steve’s direction.

Steve flopped down beside you, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “For my sake,” he began, “please give her the non lame version.”

“Please give me the lame version.”

“Well,” Bucky shifted forward in his seat, “Steve was the scrawniest little shit in kindergarten. But he was yappy, like a ratty little dog. Anyway, he was going off on this one rich kid called Stark for taking his favourite fire truck. But Stark beat him up so hard that Stevie crapped his pants. Literally, crapped. His. Pants.”

“And we’re getting the lame version,” Steve interjected. 

“Oh yeah,” Bucky nodded. “So anyway, I see this happening. I was one of the bigger kids in the class, I could take ‘em all. But I don’t like bullies. I go over to Stark in front of everybody, and I pantsed him. Well this guy cried like I’ve never seen. And little Stevie’s just standing there with diarrhoea coming out of his pants.”

“And then what happened,” you asked, feeling bad for Steve. 

“He knew if he stuck with me, he could run his mouth as much as he wanted. Nobody could touch him,” Bucky laughed. “It’s funny when you look back on it. Did you take steroids when you went through puberty, Stevie?”

You saw them funny side now, looking at them both. Steve was taller than Bucky by a good few inches, broader at the shoulders and had a wider chest. He was bigger than him now. 

“He still can’t fight for shit,” Bucky added.

“Can confirm. Can’t beat his way out of a paper bag. Even I can’t help him,” Natasha commented. 

“I don’t like hitting things,” Steve almost whined. 

“Unless it’s in the bedroom,” Natasha remarked. 

“What?”

“Peggy told me a few things. A few things you really really liked.”

“She did have a great ass for it,” Bucky reasoned. 

You zoned out again, to build a picture in your mind of what Natasha was getting at, with you in Peggy’s place, and this time in Steve’s office, just like all of those little covert visits you paid him at the start of the year. You were bent over his desk, underwear bundled around your ankles. And he was standing over you with his thick, tan belt in his hand. Or would he used his own, bare hands? Would you be draped over his thighs? The possibilities were endless. 

You bit your lip just imagining what he’d do to you, hoping that this side of him really did exist, wanting it to be true. 

Grunting. That’s what ripped you away from the painting inside your head. Your eyes quickly focused, homing into the scene in front of you. 

Somehow the debate over who was strongest had descended into an arm wrestling match between Steve and Bucky. They were hovering out of their chairs, elbows firmly placed on the table. Great veins in Bucky’s arm bulged as Steve grappled and fought to best his friend. Eyes closed, teeth clenched. Steve won. 

“Woo! It’s a good day to be a nerd,” he quipped, slicking back a stray strand of hair from his forehead. 

Natasha was completely straight faced, glaring at the men as they sat back down. “Pathetic,” she muttered, before turning her attention back to you, now wearing a smile. “So what do you get up to on weekends?”

“I just study, hang out with my roommate, Wanda, and her girlfriend, Carol. I can’t really do much else right now until I’m done with the semester.”

“You reckon you could take one weekend out?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I guess. Why?”

Part Five

[alongwalktoforever]

Japril Fanfic:                                Thank You For Being You

14x03 AU.

“Pick a place with you wife and child.” What if, there is something more Harper’s comment about April? Maybe, even genuine affection for the peppy, do-gooder redhead. A shared moment during a simpler time. A time of happy married Japril, before everything got so complicated.

Harper Avery was a man ahead of his time...until he wasn't.

Once, he was making medical advances and changing the face of surgery. They called him trailblazer, pioneer, groundbreaker. Now? He found himself confused at medical articles, unable to keep up with each technological advancement. It infuriated him. Harper wasn't always this irritable, but when his eyes begun to go and he wasn't allowed to perform surgery anymore, everything changed. His one release was taken from him and he saw age begin to catch up with him. He was fading fast; just a shadow of what he once was.

This thought was in the back of his mind when he entered Grey/ Sloan today, which is why he was already in a bad mood this morning. That and he hated crowds and any pomp and superfluous activities that took away from the work. Also, he had a splitting headache since he woke up and it wasn't going away. Yes, he was harsh to Jackie and this Bailey woman, but his blunt candor was how things got done, it is how he got where he is today. He had never pussyfoot around an issue and he wasn't going to start now. Why Grey/Sloan thought that they were so special was beyond him. He had always believed that respect had to be earned. There are no such things as handouts. You do the work or you don't get to be at the table. That was that. So for Bailey to insist that her hospital deserved anything other than the same expectations that he places on every other Avery hospital and facility was unacceptable and she had to go. Catherine had taken Bailey outside, probably to give her a hug and pat on the back or some other weak gesture. Let the woman wallow. There was work to be done. Harper was going through the budget one more time when Jackie walked through the door. His grandson seemed just as surprised to see him there.

"Oh...I thought you guys had finished up. I just wanted to grab my notebook," Jackson stumbled through his words, but Harper could feel the contempt in his voice. He knew his grandson hated him. And today, Harper probably deserved it. Those words earlier were harsh. Robert Avery had always been a sore spot in the Avery household. His name unspoken, unless used to spew hurt. There were times where times where Harper saw his son in Jackson and it scared him. Robert was weak, selfish, and lazy, but he was also smart and full of potential, just like Jackson. He just didn't want his grandson falling down the same hole. And Harper wanted to tell all this to Jackie, but all that came out was his usually grumpy demeanor.

"Well… hurry up!" Harper barked and returned to his spreadsheets. Jackson didn't say anything else, but nodded and moved around the table to grab his notebook. Jackson was halfway to the door when Harper remembered something from earlier.

"You and April really divorced?" Harper asked without looking up. This stopped Jackson in his tracks. First, Harper Avery never remembered anyone's name. That was a fact. He still called his secretary of thirty years, Ellen… Her name is Sarah. Second, Jackson could actually detect genuine curiosity.

"Yeah… Last year. It's complicated." This was all Jackson could manage. He couldn't see himself describing the whole painful experience to his grandfather. How grief had torn them apart. How they were still trying to find their way back to some sort of normalcy. His grandfather was not one to talk feelings.

"Hmm..." Harper grunted. Jackson took this as a sign of the end of the conversation and made his way to the door. But before he could close the door behind him, Jackson heard his grandfather say something else. It was so faint that Jackson wasn't even sure he heard Harper correctly. It almost sounded like he had said, "That's a shame. I liked her."

Jackson had no way of knowing that those would be his grandfather's last words together.

2014 "We can just leave. Just sneak out and go before anyone sees us," Jackson suggested again. He kept fussing with his tie, it suddenly felt like it was strangling him, but he also knew that this was probably just psychosomatic. Jackson had probably been to hundreds of these stupid galas since he could walk. He spent years making mind numbing small talk with stuffy socialites and watching everyone kiss his grandfather's ass. It was exhausting.

"Jackson. My hair is done, I'm wearing a dress. This is happening." April almost wanted to laugh at her husband's nervousness, instead she grabbed his hand to stop his fussing and gave it a calming squeeze. "Everything is going to be fine."

"Have you met my family?!" He scoffs as they enter the huge extravagant ballroom. It was professionally decorated with golden streams and soft lighting. It was ironic to spend this much money, just to raise money. These always seemed counterproductive in his opinion. This gala was another in a line of self-congratulatory bullshit. His grandfather was getting award for raising money, but even this seemed extravagant even for an Avery event.

"Hey, we survived your mother..." April remembered how a few months ago, Catherine blown into town like hurricane and questioned their whole relationship. Her mother-in-law had even brought up some very awkward questions that they had since put on the backburner, enjoying married life instead.

"Yeah, a fucking cakewalk compared to this." Jackson could handle his mother. At least, he knew that her heart was in the right place. His grandfather? Not so much.

"We will survive this one night too." April turns and stands in front of Jackson. She was going to enjoy this night, no matter his morose mood. It was the first time they were outside of the hospital as a married couple and didn't have to hide. She could dance and kiss her husband all she wanted, without worrying about what others thought. She was excited, especially since he was looking exceptionally handsome in his suit.

"That isn't guaranteed," Jackson sighs, his doubts were not going to be appeased that easily. However, he knew that he was fighting a losing battle when his wife moves close against his body and whispers slyly into his ear. "And then when the night is over, you get to see what I am wearing underneath the dress," He could feel April's breath and felt his blood start pumping into some very inconvenient places.

"Are you bribing me?" Jackson can't help but smile.

"Is it working?" April asks with a kink of her eyebrow. God, she was sexy when she wanted to be.

"A little bit. Yeah," He wraps his arms around her, bringing her even closer. They both laugh and Jackson leans down and gives her a long kiss. They had been married several months and each day, he fell more and more in love with her. He didn't know that was possible.

'Ahem..." The newlyweds break apart to see Catherine standing there, tapping her very expensive shoes at them. "You're late."

"Nice to see you too, mom." Jackson greets his mother with a quick peck on the cheek. She was still prickly about their marriage, but she was slowly coming around.

"Hi, Catherine,"April gives an awkward half hug to mother-in-law, which she returns. They were still trying to figure out how to navigate their new dynamic.

"Hello April, honey. Well come on, your grandfather wants to see you two," Catherine doesn't wait for them to answer, but walks away as the crowd seems to part in front of her. April has to give her husband a gentle nudge before he actually begins to follow. Jackson grabs them drinks on the way. We are gonna need it, he tells her.

They find Harper Avery surrounded by a group of people, all decked in fancy clothing and jewelry. No one could deny that Harper was a commanding presence. Everyone seemed equally scared of him and equally trying to impress him. April knew she felt very outside her element, but she was here for Jackson and that is all that mattered.

"Sorry to interrupt. But Harper, Jackson is here and so is April," Catherine announces.

"You're late," Harper greets them, bluntly.

"Jesus," Jackson rolls his eyes and growls under his breath.

"Harper, nice to meet you," April says loudly, over her husband's comment. She reaches her hand to shake, but Harper ignores it. Jackson grabs her hand instead and holds tight even as Harper turns to the group and introduces them.

"This is my tardy grandson, Jackie...finally and his wife." Harper gestures half-heartedly at them.

"Jackson, very good to see you. And you look lovely, Mrs. Avery." One man comments, addressing the couple. Jackson almost chokes on his drink as he sees April's expression. He could see the color flush her face, she was not happy.

"It's actually Kepner. April Kepner. I kept my name," April corrected.

"Ohhh. How modern," The woman laughs.

"Oh, are you the Kepner's from Napa Valley? Their vineyard is divine," Another asks.

"No. Nope. We are the Iowa Kepners...from Iowa," April manages.

"Yes, Amy married well above her means. Smart girl," Harper states, dripping with condescension. 

"Oh. That's...nice," They seem to lose interest after that and turn their attention on to Jackson. "So Jackson, I know you are in surgery. What is your speciality? Cardio, Neuro, or…" Before Jackson could answer, Harper interrupted.

"My grandson chose flash over substance. Plastics." Harper said the last word with so much disdain that it even surprised Jackson.

"Actually, Jackson is the head of plastics and a hospital board member and has created one of the best burn centers on the west coast," April interjected.

"You his wife or his cheerleader?" Harper did not mean this as a compliment.

"We're gonna go find our seats. Nice speaking to all of you," Jackson ushers April away before she could argue anymore.

"Ass!" April hisses when they are safe distance away.

"Welcome to the family," Jackson says as he kisses the top of her head. It felt very very nice to have someone on his side.

The next few hours, Jackson and April successfully avoided Harper and his posse of judging eyes. Instead, they drank and danced and only had eyes for each other. The couple was currently swaying slowly to the very expensive string band as April rests her head against his chest and sighs contently.

"You know, this might be the first time that I have had fun at one of these since I was thirteen," Jackson muses as his hand trails up and down her spine, sending shivers everywhere.

"What happened when you were thirteen?" April asked, amused.

"I got to second base with Mila Taylor in the coatroom closet," Jackson reveals with wicked grin.

"Jackson!" April swats him with false indignation as Jackson laughs.

"You asked! Hey..." Jackson lifts her chin gently and kisses softly on the lips before whispering, "I couldn't have done this without you. Thank you for.." "For what?" April confused at his seriousness.

"Well… for everything. For just being you," He says finally. "I love you."

"I love you, too" April returns simply. She stands on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him deeply. He pulls her closer and April can feel every nerve in her body on fire. They become truly lost in one another before finally breaking apart after what felt like hours.

"I have to get you home...like now," Jackson says breathlessly. They were starting to become a spectacle. And he needed to know what was under that dress more than anything.

"What no coat closet?" April teases but grabs his hand and heads toward the door. Jackson was helping her put her coat on when he hears his name bellowed across the room.

"Jackson!" The couple turns to see Harper Avery waving them over.

"So close," Jackson drops his head and walks over. "Hey, we were actually just leaving."

"Yeah, I am not feeling too great. I think it was the shrimp cocktail," April fibs as she rubs her stomach dramatically. Jackson shoots her an appreciative smile for her effort, but knows that the lie won't get them out of this. Harper ignores her and carries on.

"I told you to come so you could network with the top surgeons in the world, Jackie," Harper lectures. Jackson had heard this speech countless times growing up, he was over it.

"I thought you just wanted us here for familiar support," Jackson quips.

"Don't be a wiseass." Harper snaps.

"I have talked to these people a million times. They are all the same! They are vapid and self-serving and…" Jackson lists, but he is interrupted.

"And you're not? How many boob jobs have you done this month, Jackie? Jesus, what a disappointment." The last word hits the group harshly. Harper sips more of his drink, indifferent to the effect of his cruel words.

"Well, I am sorry about that, Grandpa," Jackson states, solemnly. He turns to April and kisses her on the cheek before saying, "I'll grab us a cab."

He leaves April and Harper standing there, while April finishes putting on her coat to leave.

"So sensitive. It's like having a grand..daughter. " Harper says with disdain and a hint of inebriation.

"You know what? No. I was going to let this go. But no."April turns around, with fire in her eyes.

"Excuse me?" Harper was not often talked back to.

"You've insulted me, my husband, and apparently the whole gender of women tonight. I don't care what you think of me. My whole life is people underestimating me. Which is whatever… I can take it. So yes, I grew up on a farm in Iowa, but if you had taken the time to ask any personal questions then you would know that my father owns almost all the land in Moline county. That is a big deal. Maybe not when you are dealing with pompous, brown nosing sycophants, but in the real world. The world where you don't spend a million dollars congratulating yourself on your philanthropy. Like this is crazy," April gestures to the decadent room. She continues her rant, she was only just beginning.

"Also, I am an excellent trauma surgeon. I was the top of my class in med school and I have helped make Grey Sloan one of the best trauma centers in America. Me. So no, I don't have a name or award named after me...yet. But I am not just Jackson Avery's wife. I am so much more." April began to walk away, but suddenly she turns back with a second wind. "And Jackson is so much more too. So much more than what you think of him. He changes people's lives everyday. And he doesn't ask for a pat on the back or a gala celebrating him. He does amazing things every freaking day. He is amazing. And it is just so very sad that you can't see that."

April finally takes a full breath for the first time in what felt like forever. An awkward silence falls on the two adversaries. April begins to wonder if Harper is deciding between calling security or just disowning her and Jackson, entirely. However, what happens next does surprise her.

Harper finishes his drink and says calmly, "I hate these things too." "What?" April asks, shocked at his demeanor. "I hate being surrounded by… what was that word you used?" He turns to her. "Sycophants," April answers, bluntly. "Yes, sycophants. My business advisor says they are necessary. But, they are stupid and useless. Is a ridiculous champagne fountain saving lives? No, doing the medicine, doing work, that is saving lives." "Well… I agree," April never thought she would say something like that out loud. "And Jackie, he needs to be pushed or he will just… His father…" Harper struggles with his words, which doesn't happen that often. "I think you need to stop comparing him to his father. He's not him." April did not have a doubt in her mind about this. Harper doesn't say anything else, just nods curtly. April takes this as her signal to leave. "Goodnight, April," Harper remarks before heading back into the party. "Yeah… Goodnight," April walked away, still in shock with how the whole conversation went.

She finds Jackson standing outside the main entrance with his hands in his pockets and staring intensely at the night sky, the crinkle between his eyes more prominent than ever. April knew that Jackson had lived with this sort of pressure all his life. That even after all that, he was still brave and caring and did his best to help the people around him. That he was still the amazing man standing before her. April was pretty sure that she had never loved him more than in this moment. She slowly walks up behind him and wraps her hands around his waist, leaning her head against his back.

"Hey," She says softly. "Thank you for being you."

He doesn't say anything but she feels him relax against her touch. After a few seconds, he turns to face her and gathers her inside his large coat. Jackson gently moves a strand of hair from her eyeline and traces the outline of her face. April closes her eye to his touch. He stares at her for a few more seconds, before he kisses her. As they break apart, he leans his forehead against hers and says, "Let's go home."

Present Day Jackson has spent the day fielding condolences from people, some he had never even spoken to before. He was a great man. What a loss. You must be so sad. Jackson didn't know how he felt yet. But he had to go through the motions. He would nod solemnly, say something like, 'He will be missed' or 'It won't be the same without him.' Then he would make an excuse to leave before he had to fake anymore grief. Yes, his grandfather was a great man, to everyone but him. He had been a bully and judgemental and held him to impossible standards his entire life. The whole day had been weird and exhausting, which is why he found himself heading towards the nursery, hoping that he could have a few minutes of peace with his daughter. However, when he got there, he found April holding Harriet outside the nursery.

"Oh hi..Hey you," Jackson says and shakes his head. He was acting like an awkward schoolboy. "Hey," April smiles politely. Things were still weird after April's confession and moving out. They were still trying to figure everything out. "Sorry, I didn't know you were…" He begins. "Oh no, it's fine." April waves his apology off. "I just wanted to see her since I have a surgery and won't be able to see before she leaves for the night." "Oh well, I'll just come back later." Jackson begins to back away, not wanting to impede on April's time. "Don't be silly," April walks up to him and hands Harriet over. "I was just leaving." "Oh thanks," Jackson says as kisses his daughter on top of head and smells her baby scent, it was already calming him. "I heard about Harper," April remarks as she watches the father/daughter greeting with a sad smile. "Oh yeah…" Jackson shrugs, too exhausted to come up with a fake condolence. "So," April inquires. "does it feel like a 10,000 pounds weight has been lifted off your back?" "No…" He says seriously, before cracking a smile. "More like 10 million." They both chuckle at the dark humor of it all. Jackson had almost forgotten that April had been there through all the bullshit with him, from even before they were together. It was nice to have someone get it. "Well, he could be an ass, but he was your grandfather so I'm sorry." April reaches out to put her hand on his shoulder, but decides against it at the last second. Sometimes it was too easy to act normal with Jackson. She decides to leave before she falls back into old habits, "Well, I gotta go." But before she can walk away, Jackson blurts out the question he had been dying to ask, "Do you know what his last words to me were?" "Hmm?" April asks, bracing herself for some classic Harper dig or insult. "He said, 'I always liked her,'" Jackson looks probingly at his ex-wife. "Liked who?" April eyes squint as she tries to understand Jackson's line of questioning. "You." He states, simply. "Me?" April asks incredulously. "Yeah. Were you friends and I just didn't know it?" Jackson was only kidding, however when he sees April's expression, he can tell there is something more the story. "No. Not friends," April says, evasively. When Jackson keeps looking at her, she finally confesses. "I did yell at him once." "What?" Jackson lets out a surprised laugh. Now it was Jackson's turn to be confused. "That first gala we went to… well the only gala actually," April remembered the evening very clearly. His suit, her dress, that damn champagne fountain. "You yelled at my grandfather." Jackson still trying to wrap his head around this development. "He was being a huge… jerk to you. And I was little drunk and kind of just snapped." April confesses. "You yelled at him and we still got invited to Christmas dinner." Jackson repeats in disbelief. All April could do was shrug. April had only seen Harper a handful of times after that night. He was still his gruff self, but his icy exterior had melted a bit over the years. He even sent her a holiday card or two over the years. "That night…" Jackson doesn't know what he wants to say about that night. He just knew that having April there had been everything. He looks at April and knows he has more to say, but doesn't know how. A few seconds pass, before the moment is disrupted as April's pager goes off. She looks at it and says solemnly, "I really gotta go... Goodbye Jackson." "Yeah, goodbye," He says as he watches her walk down the hallway, he was going to let her go but he had to say one more thing, "April!" She stops at the edge of the hallway and turns back. "Thank you...for…" He struggles to say what he really means. For being you.  But April seems to understand anyway. She nods, before disappears around the corner. Jackson watches the spot long after she leaves, reminising about a simpler time. 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12684923/1/