#when he knows i could never do that. local colleges here suck their degrees mean nothing

[girlivealwaysbean]

.

[lizbotw]

it’s only sharing a disgustingly sweet milkshake at the local college town diner after both of your evening classes that suna graciously provides the answers to the math homework.

the spongy pencil eraser is easy for you to sink your teeth into as you puzzle over his handwriting. “you know,” you mumble around the nib, trying to figure out if that’s a 5 or a 6, “i never know why you do this to me every week.” this time the drink with two plastic straws floating in an unhealthy heaping of whip cream is a syrupy strawberry flavor.

rintarou tips forward to sip at one of them and in your peripheral, chunky pink-coated fruit pieces travel up the clear tube and disappear between his lips. he releases the straw with an annoying ah that makes you frown, even if you weren’t concentrating in the first place. “aw, don’t tell me you don’t like hanging out with me.” he feigns hurt.

a well placed sip of your own allows you to avoid having to answer that—you have a personal rule of never being sappy in the presence of calculus. if you didn’t like him, suna knows you wouldn’t be hanging out with him—there are just some things you can’t do, even if it’s for the sake of your grade. none of this has to be said out loud of course, but he decides to be annoying and ask anyway.

actually—well... maybe hanging out is... not exactly how this appears to bystanders.

sharing a drink like this, you two probably look more like a couple on a (terribly cheap) afternoon date, rather than two broke college students that split meals to save money and believe that sharing answers for homework isn’t cheating, it’s collaboration.

ha, as if it would ever be different—things like the former never come true. maybe in movies, but that’s about where the line is drawn.

as if he knows what you’re thinking, suna raises an eyebrow at you over the glass, a smile playing on his lips—the same stupid look he always gives you. it feels particularly worse this evening.

it’s hard to avoid eye contact with him mere inches away, but you manage when a car painted a very interesting shade of red rumbles past the fingerprint covered window. you’re grateful for the distraction.

the subject changes when you realize suna has terrible taste when it comes to ordering milkshakes. “what flavor is this?” you spit out the word as though the very concept of calling this a real flavor is more disgusting than the drink itself, smacking your lips and screwing up your face at the excessively saccharine, artificial strawberry aftertaste.

this is no ordinary strawberry milkshake. no, this is a so-bad-only-suna-rintarou-would-order-something-this-horrible-(and-not-necessarily-on-purpose-either) strawberry milkshake.

“valentine’s valor,” he states matter-of-factly like those words mean anything to you. you stare at him until he elaborates. “their valentine’s special,” he clarifies and is gifted with a sarcastic thumbs-up from you in thanks—it is pointedly ignored and suna slings an arm over back of his seat. “dunno the exact flavor though. forgot.”

it tastes like the embodiment of pink, you decide. valentine’s valor. what a stupid name. there are a million and one better words that start with v... you can name at least five with a little thinking. you should ask them to hire you as part of their marketing team, you decide.

maybe it’s fitting title though. you certainly need valor to even think about taking another sip of that... concoction—which you do because you are obsessed with getting your money’s worth.

“valentine’s day was half a week ago?” your mental calendar helpfully supplies.

the clatter of pans in the back kitchen somehow mingles charmingly with the way rintarou throws his head back to laugh—a scene straight out of a movie really. you decide you hate him in the moment. “right you are. want a prize?” ugh. you stick your tongue out at his tone.

great. as if to add insult to injury, of course you’re sharing an out-of-date love holiday special with suna of all people. valentine’s was four days ago and this is where you are on a thursday night. the sticky upholstery of the booth seat, ripped and fraying at the corners, squeaks and groans and attaches itself to the fabric of your jeans as you shift around, suddenly hot. what a strange situation to be in, you think. this has to be a metaphor for life—then again, you’d been thinking this whole... thing has been a metaphor anyway.

yup, ever since suna sat next to you in a calculus II lecture all those fated months ago and took pity on how much you fucking sucked at math, up until the present where he takes slightly less pity on you but does enjoy emptying your dorm mini-fridge and making you pay for his milkshakes—all of it. this entire thing with him. one big stupid metaphor.

the specifics of how you came to have a routine like this are certainly murky, but two things are for certain—one, your calculus grade is certainly a lot better than it would have been otherwise, and two, you have one friend more than you did at the start of the school year. (that last one is kind of a big deal, you think. the college social scene is brutal. the word friend has started to become more disappointing than exhilarating lately though.)

rin reaches to your left to pick at the fries you’d ordered as a side—you’ve learned not to try and stop him. “also,” he adds, mouth full, “you’re totally getting me a new pencil after this.” yes, true, the pencil you’re currently leaving frustrated teeth marks all over isn’t yours. very easy to forget in the moment. you’ve probably destroyed 15 of his pencils by now for the 15 weeks of the last semester—only 7 so far for the current one. you do the mental math.

instead of drawing in the sharp lines of the differential equation that should be going in the question box, you lightly trace in the curves of a 2 and then another one next to it in the corner of the worksheet, graphite underlining them both in one swoop. the horribly thin paper of the school library’s printer is scratchy as you write but soon you flip the pencil over and under your fingers to tap the eraser (that has seen better days) just below what you wrote. “this is pencil number 22.”

suna leans over to look at the number as if you hadn’t just told him what it said. what an idiot. “glad you’re keeping count.” he settles back into his seat. “when can i expect my reimbursement?”

“you’re funny,” you say, without a hint of humor in your voice. the pretty 22 you had written now has flower petals growing off of the sides as you get distracted doodling along the edges of your work. it’s quiet for a moment as he watches you, or maybe as he takes the chance while you’re distracted to shove more french fries down his throat—either option is plausible and you don’t lift your eyes to check.

something occurs to you.

“rin.” you take an extended pause in between the words as you continue drawing, just to annoy him. you don’t continue speaking until he grumbles in acknowledgment (you try to hide your smile). “do you ever doodle in your notebooks?” now that you thought about it, suna was surprisingly pretty straight-laced when it came to class—you couldn’t ever recall him ever slacking off to the degree that meant his pages were filled with hearts and stars and flowers and suns and atomically inaccurate animals and tiny people in different colored ink. your work was always certainly the more vibrant out of the two (perhaps that could explain your grades and how you understand like... nothing in your lectures, but you decide correlation does not equal causation).

“waste of time,” he says around another mouthful of fries, another one already halfway there to his mouth.

suna is also surprisingly negative at times—but the blue book flipped open to his homework says maybe he’s just a liar though. you squint at it.

“it’s still pretty early but we probably should get out of here soon,” suna says, pulling his phone out from his pocket to check the time and leaning his elbows on the table. “i’ll walk you back. your roomie doesn’t leave the gym until 9—before you ask, yes i’ve been keeping track. it’s not stalking if it’s for my own sake.”—rin is, of course, referring to the long standing rivalry between him and your (very nice, might you add) roommate you don’t really understand but which has cumulated in him deciding he would avoid them as much as humanly possible purely out of spite. (“the only person i like in dorm 302 is you,” he’d told you one time and the throwaway sentence maybe made your heart flutter more than it probably should’ve.)

the bell above the front door jingles behind you as another patron enters. rin glances up at the sound and then returns to his phone with a bored bat of his eyes, probably scrolling through twitter or replying to texts, and picking at his teeth with a toothpick (where did he even get that?).

you try to get back to work (copying) but something in your gut tells you there’s more to his notebook than the messy handwriting and crossed out words that meet the eye.

with suna distracted, you take the chance to carefully slide the book towards you and then, in a single quick swipe, pull it into your lap under the table, already leafing to the back pages—everyone knows that’s where the real secrets are—not sure what to expect. a flash of color makes you pause and you flip back to a page that has the corner folded into a tiny, crisp triangle.

whatever you were thinking suna had stashed in the back of his calculus notebook certainly does not match up with what’s staring you in the face currently. sparkly, gel-inked hearts in neon colors glitter under the fluorescent overheads. in each of them, written in capital letters neater than you thought possible for suna, is your initials, a small plus sign in the middle, and then S.R. (for none other than suna rinatoru) next to it. it instantly makes sense to you. “rin, what the fuck.” one side of the book dangles from your hand, pages fluttering, and you hold it up for him to see, other hand flying to cover your mouth because you don’t know whether to laugh or pretend to be mortified or what.

it’s very amusing to watch how suna goes from a disinterested stare, to widened eyes, to reaching over the heaps of school supplies to attempt to grab the book from you, frantic. you hold it just out of reach. “what are you—” an old lady at a table shushes him when he half-screams. “—give that back,” suna whisper-yells instead in the greatest verbal equivalent of tiny caps you’ve ever heard.

“not a chance.”

he looks like he wants to lunge across the table and pry his prized possession from your meddling hands, but also has half the mind not to make a scene. getting kicked out and then subsequently banned from his favorite diner all on a noise complaint and disorderly conduct accusation was not ideal.

you hum, flip back to your place, and observe the drawings covering the lined pages. you shoot him a venomous smirk over the edge of the cover, one that’s more theatrics than anything, and say with all the satisfaction of someone who knows they have all the power, “oh, this is gold.” he deflates and you feel grateful he doesn’t see right through your facade because oh man are you sweating inside right now. what the fuck? no way suna rintarou is drawing little hearts with both of your initials in it like a lovesick middle schooler. no fucking way. you almost want to tell him that you did the same thing once when the thoughts about him had gotten especially bad (you felt guilty afterwards though, thinking you never had a chance with him, but... now... if he’s doing the same—well, that kind of changes everything).

suna is utterly defeated you think—doesn’t even try to defend himself, just slumps in his seat with a groan. you at least expected a “i can explain!” from him, a last attempt at dignity, not the resigned “i’m never going to live this down, am i?” he mumbles after a few seconds. well, either works for you.

“nope,” you quip, maybe a little too cheerfully because the response you receive is a distressed wail and him banging his head against the table. the old lady shushes him again. you chuckle at that (it feels a little wobbly though because once again, freaking out here) and flip the page. you stop.

this one has similar perfect little hearts drawn all over it, but there are other things. cute, standard shaky drawings of misshapen dogs and volleyballs and other things you never thought suna would take it upon himself to create but all of which make sense are there. but there’s something else. little scribbles in the corners with your last name swapped with his and even him trying out his name with your last one—all of them are scratched out but not so much you can’t read them. a list on the right in a very tiny font that makes you think he was embarrassed even penning the words is titled “date ideas?” (the question mark is in red and the dot is a heart) and has several popular spots around town written down in the local lingo of unofficial names for them.

“listen... please let’s forget about this.” rin’s voice is muffled and he’s still faceplanted. “it’s fine if you don’t... you know... yeah.” if you don’t feel that way, he means. true, the doodles were a pretty good indication of his feelings.

what to do...

well... you take pity on him, let your lips upturn and your eyes soften to reflect the sentiment, and shut the book with a quiet thud. you slide it back across the table from where it came and back to him silently. you give it a resounding pat when suna peeks up at you, expression saying it all—he was so going to get you back for this. you stick your tongue out—acceptance of the challenge. and just like that, you’re friends again—maybe that’s what’s so great about suna.

as you get ready to leave and slowly begin the trek back to the dorm buildings with him, street lamps glimmering a pasty yellow, there’s no awkward tension, no need to ask questions, no verbal wonderings about what ifs between you two. it’s just joking and shoving each other around and challenges to see who can run to the next tree the fastest in the middle of the chilly february night. you know, maybe for now you’ll keep your own thoughts a secret.

[spencers-renaissance]

100

Summary: Spencer's an academic researcher who spends every morning at his local library. Derek just happens to drop by one Tuesday and ask the pretty boy in the classics section if he can help him find a book. Sparks fly.

Tags: library au, shy spencer, tooth-rotting fluff, flirting, coming out, spencer does not work at the bau

Pairing: Morgan x Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Read on AO3

Spencer’s working in his favourite corner of the library by 7.35am, stuck straight into his latest research paper while Katherine bustles quietly around the bookshelves, tidying and re-ordering as much as possible before the rush of people pour through the door. She’s probably his favourite opener. She’s calm and efficient and smiles warmly at him but doesn’t engage him in pointless conversation that distracts him from his work, although that’s not to say they haven’t had a few chats here and there. It’s a quiet moment of companionable solitude; the perfect environment for a productive early morning. 

He’s vaguely aware of a gradual increase in patrons, the ambient noise level rising ever so slightly as he pours over copies of an obscure ancient philosophical text he’d obtained from the local museum, annotating furiously as he scrunches his brow in concentration. It’s sucked him in enough that he nearly jumps out of his skin when he’s tapped on the shoulder, whirling around to face probably the most attractive man he’s ever met. Immediately, he flushes red, half from the embarrassment of over-reacting, half from the intensity of the urge to jump this man’s bones. 

“Hi, I’m sorry I made you jump,” the man chuckles, taking a step back to give him a bit of space. “I can’t find any librarians around and I noticed the philosophy textbook you have on your desk and thought you might be able to help me…” He trails off looking a bit awkward and uncomfortable, clearly out of his element. 

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Spencer says, a little intimidated but still very eager to spend any amount of time with the Greek god he’s just so happened to encounter on a random Tuesday morning. 

“You will?” the man asks, smiling. “Great. Basically my best friend went to an intro to philosophy class at the local community college, one of her many whimsical new projects, and is now obsessed. I was told in no uncertain terms to pick up as many books on the subject as I could before work this morning.” 

“Wow,” Spencer breathes a laugh, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Well, I don’t blame her, philosophy is a great subject. I’m working on my fourth PhD in it now, actually.” 

“What, you have four PhDs in philosophy?” he asks incredulously. 

“No, no,” Spencer smiles, looking down shyly. “My other three are in chemistry, maths, and engineering. This is my first in philosophy. Sorry that was misleading.”

“Looks like I asked the right person, then,” he grins. “I’m Derek.”

“Spencer,” he replies, blushing at the warm look Derek is sending his way. “We’re actually in the classics section, this is just my favourite corner. The philosophy texts are over here.”

He leads the way through the maze of bookshelves, arriving at the little alcove that houses the philosophy and psychology books. With a vague idea of what Derek is looking for, he dives straight into the shelves, combing through the spines until he finds a few options for his friend. “She should probably start with this one: Big Ideas Simply Explained and then move on to Think, which is one of my favourites. This one, How Philosophy Works, will be best if she’s a visual learner instead, and if you want something a bit more complicated, try Philosophy Made Slightly Less Difficult.” He piles on a few extra as he looks around for any he missed before turning around and gesturing that he’s done. 

“This is… amazing, thank you,” Derek says gratefully. “I don’t even know why she chose philosophy, it’s a bit random for a computer nerd, isn’t it?”

“Actually about 0.58% of all US college students graduate with a philosophy degree, so it’s not as uncommon as people may think. It’s the 89th most popular major according to last year’s data, but I don’t know the statistics for people with computer science degrees or careers learning about philosophy in an official or unofficial capacity, I’m afraid,” Spencer explains, hands moving expressively as he reels off his statistics. 

The mildly impressed expression that’s been pretty permanently painted on Derek’s face the whole time he’s been speaking with Spencer intensifies as he listens intently to his statistics. “Damn, pretty boy, you really know your stuff,” he marvels, eyes wide. “You some sort of genius or something?”

Spencer blushes furiously at that, ducking his head slightly. “Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute.”

Derek just stares at him.

“So, yeah, I guess I’m a genius?” he says bashfully.

“No, that 100% qualifies for genius status,” Derek asserts confidently. “Not that I have any sort of qualification to rule on the matter, but in my eyes you are definitely a genius.”

“Thank you,” Spencer murmurs, blush somehow deepening at the unexpected praise from the man who will now occupy his dreams. “You seem pretty smart, too, though. What do you do?”

“I’m an FBI agent.”

Damn it. As if he couldn’t get any sexier. “Wow, that’s… impressive,” Spencer remarks. “Does your friend work there, too?”

“Yeah, she’s our technical analyst,” Derek explains, smiling fondly. “She’s amazing, you’d love her.”

“Well we’ve already got one shared interest,” Spencer points out, gesturing to the books piled high in Derek’s arms. Spencer would’ve collapsed by now, but he’s barely flinching under the weight of seven bulky philosophy texts. 

“That’s true,” Derek grins. “Speaking of work, though, pretty boy, I have to run, I’m already late. Thank you so much for your help, though.”

“No problem,” Spencer says softly, definitely not mournfully, as he watches Derek walk away to the check-out desk where Katherine smiles at him as he scans the books through, sending a discreet wink over at Spencer. He glares back jokingly before walking back over to his desk.

He continues working but he can’t help but feel emptiness sinking heavy in his stomach, the kind of a missed opportunity, of almost, of could have been. Immanuel Kant still gets his attention, but he’d be lying if he said that a decent portion of it wasn’t focused on hoping, praying that his path crosses with Derek again, that he’s not replaying every moment over and over in his mind.

⭐️

Derek is very late. He rushes into the briefing room where Penelope is already explaining the case to the team. Rolling his eyes at her pointed look, he dumps the books down on the table in front of her. “Don’t blame me, baby girl, doing your chores is what made me late,” he protests, taking a seat next to Emily. 

“Well, maybe you should have been quicker,” Penelope quips, before promptly moving on with the case at Hotch’s pointed glare. 

He barely has a moment to think about anything but double homicide until they’re mid-flight and the debriefing is finally over. Moving to the back of the plane, he looks out the window as he plays over the morning’s trip to the library. Spencer might just be the prettiest boy he’s ever met, and making him blush is probably the most fun he’s had all week. Bonus points for intelligence, of course, even after spending just a few minutes with him, he could confidently say he was a walking encyclopedia. 

On the drive from the library to Quantico, he’d thought about finding some ruse to go back the next day. Spencer seemed as though he knew the library well, like he spent a lot of time there. Maybe he could go back and actually ask for his number this time; he was gonna take that boy out on a date if it’s the last thing he does. Now, though, that’s going to have to wait.

“Alright,” Emily sighs, flopping into the seat opposite him and dragging him out of his head, “what’s going on with you?” 

“What do you mean?” Derek asks reflexively, feeling a little defensive. 

“Well you were late this morning, not unusual, but you’re not listening to music and instead choosing to stare pensively out the window. Plus, you barely had anything to contribute during debriefing,” she explains, raising an eyebrow. 

“Drop it,” he says, sending her a look, but it’s teasing and light-hearted.

“Oh my God, there’s a girl,” she gasps. “And not just any girl, you like her!”

“There absolutely is not,” he says truthfully, raising an eyebrow. He’s not exactly out to the team, not out of fear of how they’ll react but more because he finds coming out awkward and he’s never found the right time, really. 

“Suit yourself,” Emily teases, pulling out her phone to play online scrabble.

Derek just scoffs and looks out the window again, definitely not letting his thoughts wander back to Spencer. Definitely not. 

⭐️

Spencer walks into the library the following Monday with low expectations. He’d thought that Derek might come back in last week, if not to see him then maybe to return his friend’s books or find more for her, but his wish had been unsuccessful. Accepting that it was a chance encounter that would ultimately go nowhere, and reminding himself that Spencer Reid’s life was decidedly not like the movies, he unpacks his papers from his messenger bag in his favourite corner again and gets back to work. He’s over the moon with the headway he’s making on his paper, and he settles in for another productive morning of work. 

Just like last time, Derek creeps up on him while he’s completely in the zone, slipping into the seat opposite him, but at least Spencer doesn’t jump this time. No, he just feels his face immediately brighten, looking far too excited to see a near-stranger again. 

“Good morning, pretty boy,” he grins, laughing fondly at Spencer’s reaction. 

“Derek, you came back,” he says happily, putting down his pen. 

“Yeah, I had a case immediately after I came to the library last Tuesday and it was a tough one. We only wrapped it up yesterday so I have today off, a rare luxury,” he explains, and Spencer tries not to read into it too much, tries not to think that Derek is saying he would’ve come back sooner if he could, tries to take him at face value. 

“The exciting life of an FBI agent.”

“Not as glamorous as the movies,” Derek agrees.

“I’m, uh- glad you came back,” Spencer admits shyly, afraid of coming on too strong.

“Well, would you like to get dinner sometime?” Derek asks.

“Really?” Spencer asks, looking up at Derek with shock written across his face.

“Of course,” Derek chuckles. “I mean, I love Penelope, but if she wants more philosophy books she can get them herself. I came back to see you.” 

“You did?” Spencer’s still a little floored by Derek’s words, but slowly a warmth starts to bloom inside him as he realises what’s happening. 

“I did,” Derek smiles gently. “Now, about that date. How does tonight sound?” 

⭐️

Derek decides on his favourite Italian place to treat Spencer at and his cheeks hurt by the end of the night; he’s pretty sure not one moment went by when he wasn’t smiling fondly at his statistics or stories or blushing. He slips his hand into Spencer’s as they walk out of the restaurant, swinging their arms a bit, directing them down the street towards the 24/7 ice cream parlour.

“I love ice cream,” Spencer grins as they head inside, his cheeks red from the cold winter air and the copious red wine they’d had with dinner. 

“Who doesn’t?” Derek asks, leading him up to the counter. 

Spencer insists on sampling far too many flavours before deciding on cookies and cream with mint chocolate chip in a cone. He licks at it happily while Derek sits opposite with two scoops of raspberry ripple in a cup and forces himself to think very pure thoughts. 

“Thank you for this, Derek,” he beams over his cone.

“Oh, pretty boy,” Derek says fondly. “Thank you.”

Emily spots it the minute he walks into the bullpen the next day. “I’m guessing things are going well with her,” she smirks as she skids over on her chair, grinning wildly. 

He sighs as he sits down, looking up at her as he sets his stuff down. “With him, yes,” he confirms, smiling a little. 

She raises her eyebrows and pauses for a moment. “Wow, okay, okay,” she says. “Well, I hope I can meet him soon.” 

“Might be a bit early for that yet, Em,” he laughs, “but if things go as well as I think they will, that’s definitely on the cards.” 

(Five months later, when Spencer finally does meet Emily, she’s as annoying as Derek expects her to be but seeing his boyfriend’s face light up as he gets welcomed in the found family of the BAU is worth every drop of teasing, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.)

[dontshootmespence]

Random Chance

Summary: Y/N yields to peer pressure and Spencer loses a bet. Did fate bring them together or was it random chance?

Words: 1,689

Warnings: Gross fluff.

A/N: My next entry for @cmbingo​ 2020! This fulfills my meet cute square.

This was the fifth outfit change.

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” You screamed, glancing into the mirror before ripping off your shirt and pants for a sixth outfit. “Speed dating? Fuck my life. This is peer pressure. You suck.”

Under pressure, filled with nervous tension, you tended to run your mouth, and right now Piper was at the opposing end of your razor sharp sword. But she still had a smile on her face. “You need to get out there and you won’t do it yourself, so I had to push you,” she laughed, pushing passed the mountain of packed boxes and pulling one of your favorite dresses out of the closet. 

“A dress? Really? For speed dating?”

Dating sucked. It was the most horrible thing ever. All you wanted was to fall into the perfect relationship and then cuddle on the couch. Was that so much to ask? 

Piper laughed and stood behind you, holding the dress over your body. “Yes, it’s not an evening gown or anything. And it’s you. Just because you’re going speed dating doesn’t mean the guys you meet shouldn’t see exactly who you are.”

As much of a pain in the ass as she was, Piper was still your bestie, since you were in diapers. And she wanted the best for you. She’d pulled out your Harry Potter dress, the one with the first chapter’s words written all over. “Pair that with your cute red flats and the guys will be falling over themselves to get to you and the ones that don’t are stupid.”

You snorted and stepped into the flats, taking yet another glance into the dreaded mirror. “You know you couldn’t have picked a worse time for me to go speed dating,” you said, finally content with your outfit. Within the week, you’d be moving and starting a new job at the local community college. “Next week, dude.”

“Life’s too short to wait,” she said, playfully smacking your butt. “Plus, at least it’s at that kitschy bookstore you love. Now go take a nice relaxing walk and breathe. You’ll be fine. I gotta go to work.”

“Text me when you get there so I know you’re safe,” you call, hearing the thud of the heavy apartment door close behind her.

After grabbing your red sweater, you headed down the stairs, locking the door behind you. The bookstore was only a few blocks away and it was a beautiful day out, so you decided to take advantage of the sunny weather.

A breeze brushes through your hair as you walk and the sun beats down on your skin. There are a few other people around, but mostly people are at work. You would be too if it weren’t for the whole “new job, new place, new life��� kick you were on. Decided to take a few weeks off before starting your new job. 

The entrance to the Old Fox bookstore was as obnoxious as could be, at least when compared to the rest of the stores on the block. The door was painted a bright red, but it was somewhat worn by age. The store opened up during the 60s and it was still just as popular today.

Like the three bears, the store wasn’t a giant chain or a teeny tiny hole in the wall, it was just right. The walls were a muted turquoise, which you’d alway loved. Everyone seemed to think that neutral was the way to go but you’d always been a fan of in your face color - at least after your goth teen years. 

Noise filled the air - not normal for this place - it was always on quiet side, but given the event you weren’t surprised. Seemed to be an equal amount of men and women, which made you feel a little better, not wanting to be outnumbered.

Since there was still a little time to waste before everything started, you figured there wasn’t any harm in looking for another book or two...or five. One of the first things you planned to put up in your new apartment was this scratch-off list, kind of like a lottery ticket, the listed nearly 200 classics. You'd read a lot of them before, but there were still some that you hadn’t, so maybe you could find one and pick it up before the nausea-inducing speed dating began. 

After reading Good Omens, you’d been hankering for another Neil Gaiman book, so you slithered between the masses in the store toward the section in question. American Gods, Anansi Boys, Eternity’s Wheel, you weren’t sure which one to pick. 

All - all was a good choice, right?

The colorful spines of the books called out to you, another one of Gaiman’s works. Your hand crawled along the edges of the nearby books, your hand just brushing up against someone else’s as you reached for The Graveyard Book. “Oh, sorry,” you said, staring up into the face of a beautiful stranger. He was thin and tall with delicate features, but he had a sharp jaw and deep set hazel eyes that were complemented by wavy brown hair. “I’m apparently on a Gaiman binge. Have you read any of his stuff before?”

“Yea,” he replied, eyeing the stack of books already in your hand. “American Gods, Good Omens and Eternity’s Wheel. I tend to read textbooks most of the time, but I’ve been told I should delve into more fun reading, so-”

He cut himself off and took the book off the shelf, offering it to you. “You saw it first.” Aw, gallant, too. “I’m Spencer by the way.”

“Y/N,” you said, extending your hand. “What brings you here? You live around here?”

Spencer glanced toward the tables set up for speed dating. “No, actually I lost a bet to two friends of mine and if I lost I had to go speed dating. Can’t say I’m all that comfortable with it.”

“Me either,” you laughed. “My friend Piper peer pressured me into it. I don’t drink but somehow she got me to agree to this.”

The owner of the store gave a five minute warning that speed dating was about to start. “So how long will it take you to read those?” He shifted on the balls of his feet, probably nervous, which you understood. 

“Well, I have a few weeks off while I move apartments and start a new job, so these...probably four, five days.” You laughed, feeling every inch the nerd you were. “Been an avid reader since I was a kid. Why do you read textbooks though? Fiction is so much more fun.”

“I can read 20,000 words per minute and I’m always trying to absorb as much knowledge as I can. Helps with the work I do.”

“Which is?” He was cute and intriguing.

“I’m an FBI profiler for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico.”

And smart. Shit. There had to be something wrong with him. Dream guys like this didn’t grow on trees. “Impressive, Spencer. What’s your background in?”

He looked down at the ground, almost like he was embarrassed, speaking softly. “I have BAs in psychology, sociology and philosophy, as well as PhDs in mathematics, chemistry and engineering.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed. Really smart. Like stupid smart. “That’s amazing.”

“Really?”

“Of course!” How could that not be amazing? “Why?”

“It’s just that people normally think I’m a freak for having so many.” 

You wanted to punch whoever made him feel that way. “Definitely not a freak, just insanely impressive considering you’re so young.” He couldn’t have been much older than you. Maybe five years at the most.

“I started college when I was 12.”

As the owner called out to start the most awkward dating experience known to man, you turned to Spencer. “Hey, would you maybe want to get out of here? Go grab a cup of coffee? I mean, we both had friends insist we come here, but we never said we actually had to go through with it.”

Tension fell from his shoulders, like he could finally be at ease. “I’d like that. I’m really not good at this whole date thing,” he said nervously. “Just a heads up.”

Both of you shuffled over to the register, so you could pay for your books. “Neither am I, don’t worry. I’d prefer to just magically be in a relationship and not have to work for it, you know?”

“Absolutely, so Y/N, what do you do for a living? What’s the new job?”

Now it was your turn to be embarrassed, well not embarrassed, intimidated. “It’s definitely not as fancy as FBI profiler. I have my master’s degree in English literature. I’m going for a PhD too, but to pay for the half of my doctorate that scholarship won’t, I’m teaching. First, it was an online course through a University in New Hampshire where I’d travel occasionally, even though I live her, but now I got a job at the local community college.”

“That’s awesome,” he said, seeming genuinely interested. “What’s the focus on your thesis?”

So few people asked you that. Most people’s eyes glazed over when you talked about books. Everyone except your mom. “Analyzing Othello through the lends of racism as it relates to the Elizabethan period.”

After handing the cashier your money, you and Spencer walked out together, talking about your favorite Shakespeare plays, when he bumped into someone. A muscular, equally tall black guy. “Hey, kid. Funny meeting you here. Aren’t you supposed to be fulfilling your end of the deal? You lose, you speed date?”

He was one of Spencer’s friends. That much was obvious. But Spencer looked 1001% done with his bullshit - whatever it was. “Y/N, this is my friend Derek Morgan. We work together at the FBI. Morgan, this is Y/N.”

“Well, hello, Y/N.” A charmer. 

“Good to meet you,” you replied on a laugh. “Technically, he didn’t go speed dating. Neither did I and I promised my friend Piper I would, but...he is leaving with a date.” You grabbed Spencer’s hand, a jolt of something awesome moving through you at his touch. “We’re going for a cup of coffee now actually.”

“Yea, so as you see, I’m the one busy with a woman right now.” Morgan seemed quite the ladies man and Spencer looked mighty proud of himself right now. “See you tomorrow at work?”

“See you tomorrow,” Morgan replied, a note of surprise in his voice. “Nice to meet you Y/N.”

“You too. I sense we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

When you both walked away, you pulled The Graveyard Book out of your bag and handed it to Spencer. “You read this first. I think this date might go pretty well, but if you have this, then you have to return it to me and I’m guaranteed to see you again.”

Spencer smiled, his fingers tightening around yours. “I’ll have to thank Morgan for being a pain in my ass.”

“So, you lost a bet?”

“Yea, he bet I couldn’t go a day without spouting statistics and I lost. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Piper just peer pressured me. Guess I’ll have to thank her too.”

The strong, heady scent of coffee began to fill your nostrils as you approached the cafe. When he opened the door, he seemed to finally catch a glimpse of your dress. “Wait, is that the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone on your dress?”

“Yup. I’m a Slytherin by the way.”

“Oh, you definitely won’t need a guarantee to see me again, as long as you want to, I think I’m smitten.”

Piper was going to get a big hug later. Maybe dinner. And lots of wine.

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Let’s Talk About Your Hair

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Warnings: AU, Peter does a little hop, skip, and jump that’s sudden. There’s some smut and a little bit of angst. That’s about it, though!  Notes: I found @whenstarkerwillbecanon‘s post about May being Peter’s cousin & had to go with it. I loved the prompt, so thank you for that. I tweaked it to fit my writing style, but I hope it’s kind of what you had in mind!  Word Count: ~13.5k Summary: 

A snazzy little AU where Peter and May are cousins. Peter has been in Minnesota for school over the past 6 years and returns to New York to take a job. Going back home means hanging out with his favorite cousin, and when she introduces him to her new boyfriend - he's surprised to see Tony Stark - his ex and long time love - sitting there next to her. Goodness ensues.

Read on AO3 here

6 years ago… 

Peter was 21 and desperately in love. 

Or - the one where Peter gets the shock of a lifetime and yearns away a little bit at a time.Peter was 21 and desperately in love.

Despite the fact that the end of college was quickly approaching and so many decisions needed to be made, Peter felt okay. The pre-med track he took through NYU connected him to his true passion, physical therapy and if all went well, he’d be attending PT school in the fall. His clinical rotations were a lot of fun and he enjoyed working with the patients – especially the younger ones, the dreamy eyes on those kids were a big motivation to chase all  of the things he wanted. Things like his education and the beautiful Tony Stark.

He met Tony in Microbiology lab his sophomore year and they immediately clicked. Tony’s brain was fascinating and the vivid way he lived his life drew Peter in like a moth to a flame. Aside from acing their lab final and coming out of what was rumored to be one of the harder classes in his degree, Peter found himself with a Tony Stark attached to his hip, too. It felt good, being close to someone the way he could be with Tony – the lack of expectation and abundance of goodness made their time together priceless.

For two and a half glorious years, Peter and Tony learned the necessary things to graduate college and mapped out places in each other’s lives. With Howard still running the company, Tony was free to do whatever he wanted, and thankfully – what he wanted included Peter. The prospect of attaining his dreams and keeping the man he loved the most couldn’t be beat. It didn’t matter that there were better PT schools to go to, or that New York was starting to feel a little suffocating – he liked the flow of his life and didn’t want to change it.

Then – Howard Stark died. The entire thing was stupidly sudden, not a single person was prepared for it. Not the board of Stark Industries, and sure as hell not Tony Stark himself. Throughout their time together, Peter met Tony’s dad a handful of times. Each one of the witnessed father-son interactions was forced, boarding on the edge of hostile. There was no love lost between the two of them – Tony’s grief seemed to be based around the loss of his freedom, not the death of his father.

Like every powerful family, Tony walked into a legacy that took things from him in all directions. Between board meetings, R&D presentations, and the terrible Obadiah Stane’s never ceasing presence, it got a little harder to picture that happy ending they’d been planning for. No matter how well he knew the situation, Peter couldn’t shake the feeling that things were different. Or, maybe he was just different – he couldn’t really pinpoint the dark bit of energy that sat in the center of his chest and started to collect.

By the end of the semester, Peter was barely getting to see Tony. With  his rotations and the hectic schedule of a young business owner, there wasn’t a lot of time to kick back and relax – to fuck all over the apartment and waste the rest of the day recovering just to go again. In fact, Peter couldn’t remember the last time they even got to fuck. It was petty – deep down, he knew that. Holding anything over Tony’s head when the man was trying to juggle running a business and struggling not to mourn someone he couldn’t help but miss.

Peter didn’t often find himself in a place of selfishness – where he wanted what he wanted, and nothing was going to change that. Yet, he got there, anyway. Applying to Mayo Clinic School of Medical Sciences in Minnesota felt like a little act of rebellion.

He loved Tony too much to ever hurt him in a physical sense, Peter didn’t have any interest in cheating, or anything like that. The card he held removed his presence all together and the closer he got to the point where decisions needed to be made, the more uncertain he felt himself becoming.

About a week before graduation, Peter got his acceptance letter in the mail – the school he actually wanted to attend wanted him back. How interesting a concept that was – he could almost remember when he felt that with Tony. He was lost and that wasn’t anybody’s fault but his own.

The door to their shared apartment opened a couple of minutes later, Tony peaking his head in hours earlier than usual, a smile on his face.

The annual Stark Gala was later that evening and as promised, he’d taken the afternoon off to spend with Peter – their time later that evening would more than likely be very limited. Leaving the letter on the table, Peter got up off the couch and wrapped Tony in a hug. For some reason, tonight felt like the turning point. His heart was already beating out of his chest, Tony’s hands doing things to him without a second thought. Peter wanted to stay – he just wanted to be whole enough to want everything that came with staying more.

The delicate caress of Tony’s hands became distracting no less than a few minutes later – his fingertips digging into Peter’s ass cheeks through his jeans. It’d been a while, so Peter went with it, his arms wrapping around Tony’s neck tightly. Their kisses were hot, like each man could feel the bit of separation between them – Tony clung to him a little tighter and for the first time in a while, Peter felt good. He felt Tony making him feel good.

When he came a little later on with Tony’s name on his lips, Peter relaxed into the bed, a light smile on his lips. They stayed snuggled up together until a knock on the door was sounding and any other thoughts of intimacy were out the window. There wouldn’t be a single moment of peace for the rest of the evening. With one last kiss, Peter got up and out of bed, the haze of happiness rolling off of him.

Later, when he put a bag together and left without saying a word – Peter didn’t realize how blind he’d been. Without him knowing, Tony saw the letter and planned to surprise him with champagne later that evening. He didn’t get to see the other man sitting on the arm of the couch, fisting the bottle – wondering what in the actual fuck happened.

Instead, he got a bus ticket and made his way to Minnesota, his acceptance email to the Mayo Clinic PT school fresh in the sent folder.

For days to come, he would look back and wonder what the hell compelled him to just up and scram – to leave everything behind other than the basic necessities and his favorite picture of him and Tony. Even presently, Peter can’t come up with the greatest reason. He acted on instinct and fled. For whatever reason, he lacked the feeling of completion and needed the space to find out what that meant – and how he could change it..

Present Day

In the six years that he’d been there, Minnesota sort of grew on him. The cold sucked – that’s the first thing he realized when he got there. What he’d been wearing in New York, even in late May, was not appropriate for the small town he walked into after getting off the bus. He did a quick perusal of town and figured it would be as good of a place to start over as any other. Rochester, Minnesota – he remembered he picked the Mayo Clinic PT school there just because it reminded him of New York – he thought it was ironic.

Now, it’d been home away from home for a few years. After getting a pretty decent one-bedroom apartment and a job at the PT clinic within the actual medical school – Peter set up camp pretty quickly. He dropped his New York number and started completely fresh. It tore at his heart, turning off the last line of communication he had with Tony – he’d been ignoring all of his calls and texts, the desperate emails – but he made his decision.

Why not get all the breaking done at once?

He figured the longer he was gone, the easier the heartache would get. It felt deserved, for being callous in the way he just up and left – dropped off the map. The longer it lasted, though, the more Peter started to doubt his decision. School was going great and he loved getting to receive the education he actually wanted – but was it worth the cost?

To try and take his mind off of it, Peter tried to date – as miraculous as that sounded with the busy schedule he kept. A part of him could honestly say he knew going into each date that they were already doomed. He tried – at least, he wanted to say that he did. The new guys were always held up against the highest pedestal, no matter how hard he tried – Peter couldn’t stop seeing Tony, couldn’t keep Tony off his mind. Tony, Tony, Tony.

In the collective whirlwind of time, Peter finished PT school and immediately stepped into a job as a traveling physical therapist. He worked with a couple of the local sports teams in the area and covered their games when in his little jurisdiction. It was satisfying – he got to do a bit of wandering around the state, watch sports in leu of doing an actual job, and it paid well. Yet, the longer he stayed in it, he felt himself getting further from that genuine feeling of happiness.

When it became more effort to get his ass to work and do his job, he figured it was time for a change of scenery.

May’s call came at just the right time, too – Peter dealt with a particularly difficult man-child of a soccer player that morning, his patience frayed and wearing down thinner than he ever thought they could. The buzz in his pocket drew him away from the notes he’d been trying to put together on the athlete, his eyes lighting up when he saw her name.

“May, my favorite cousin! How are you?” Peter said in a way of greeting, his tone warm, voice inviting. Of all the family Peter had left, May was possibly the only person he cared to keep in touch with. Her parents were great for taking him in his last couple of years of high school, but they weren’t his – not like they were May’s.

He heard a chuckle on the other side of the line, her voice never stopping him from smiling, no matter what. “I’m your only cousin, Pete,” she started, the thick sarcasm wrapping the words up, delivering them beautifully. “I’m on to you. I’m good, though – very good. I am also calling with a purpose.” She cleared her throat, the sign that she was serious.

Leaning back in his chair, Peter felt interest flare up within him – May’s suggestions and adventures usually ended up horribly, but they were fun, and they didn’t usually steer him wrong. He rubbed at the scar from their tubing adventure his senior year fondly, the memory one of his favorites to think about. “With a purpose. I’m sure this’ll be good,” Peter remarked, a chuckle leaving his lips, the laugh soothing the sting of truth in his words.

May rolled with it, the eye roll obvious in her next words. “Shut up – you know my ideas are the best. It’s not coming from me this time, though. I got a tip from one of my coworkers that the Nets are looking for a staff PT – thought you might be good for the job.” He felt his breath hitch – he’d been trying to get on with a singular pro team for a while now.

She must have caught the change – her voice excitedly talking again, “Oh, I knew you’d be interested, Petey! I’ll send you the information.” He could practically hear the claps coming down the line, her perpetual ability to be happy both delightful and irritating all at once. Shrugging, Peter didn’t deny that the job looked promising when he clicked on the link to look at the details. Within the hour, he clicked the submit button and sent the damn thing off.

The itch to go to New York was there – now he just needed to scratch it.

Luckily, his resume reigned supreme. During his time in school, Peter did a bunch of outreach with youth sports programs and adult recreation leagues. He took a big internship with Rochester and Oakland University his last two semesters in PT school – if anyone was qualified, it was Peter Parker. And the hiring bodies seemed to agree, after a lengthy Skype interview, Peter was flying out for a quick 24-hour turnaround trip. One in which he came back to Minnesota with a brand-new job and the chance to finally go home.

The move was pretty easy – much like his first trip, he didn’t bring much with him. The team put him up in one of the nicer apartment complexes in Brooklyn, a place that came fully furnished and with a delightful view of the back porches of the 3B patrons. When May came to help him, he could see the grin on her face – the idea of getting done sooner rather than later obvious. They took a look around the box riddled place when they were finished and decided that dinner out was the best way to finish off the night.

There were many things in the city that he missed, but good Thai food ranked pretty high on that list (that and Tony – but he wasn’t about to go and tell anyone that.) Settling into the low-lit booth of the place they found right down the street from Peter’s apartment, he let out a long sigh. “It feels good to finally not be moving. I feel like I haven’t stopped since I got here yesterday,” Peter fiddled with the silverware in front of him, a smile on his lips.

“I’m just glad you didn’t have more stuff to move around. The ER was hopping last night, so I’ve been feeling more tired than usual today,” she placed a hand over his, her touch stopping the restless fretting. “I’m really glad you’re here, Pete. It’s been weird in the city without you.” Her red lips pulled into a grin, eyes twinkling.

Peter dropped the utensils and turned his hands, surrounding May’s with his own. “I’m glad to be here, too. Disappearing like I did was stupid – “ he stopped, breath catching a little. So stupid, he thought to himself. May was in college when he left, her own experience just starting to get off the ground. She didn’t even know anything about him during that time – no matter how ‘close’ they were. “I’m happy to be back. And in Brooklyn – who would have thought?”

They chatted until the food came – the world narrowing down to noodles, deliciousness, and not much else for Peter. She might have been talking at him, but he wasn’t listening. For the first time in years, it felt like being at home. This wasn’t Pho’s from down the street in Queens, it wasn’t the best he’d ever eaten, either – but it felt familiar. He’d been missing familiarity for a while now, that realization hitting him harder than he figured.

Self-induced isolation could do that to a person.

As he finished up, Peter clued back into the conversation, his eyes watching May gesture through the rest of her story before he met her glance. “I didn’t hear a word of what you said. Sorry,” he admitted, his mind split in a million different directions. New York brought back so many things – memories and wants. Trying to pay attention to May was proving difficult.

“I said you have to meet the guy I’ve been seeing. It’s pretty new, but I like him. He’s unique and smart and sort of weird – but who isn’t these days?” May repeated, her cheeks flushed. “We’re going to meet at Sully’s in Manhattan. You know the old place.” She waved at him nonchalantly – like they’d spent so much time there over the years. He remembered taking her with him during her first winter break and hadn’t been back since.

Chomping down on those words, Peter shot her a sheepish grin – “I’m not going to be a third wheel, am I?” Peter questioned, his tone light, but the question serious. He hadn’t been successful in his own dating life in a while – the last thing he wanted to do was watch May get her flirt on for too long.

She shook her head, eyes bright – the pure shininess of her personality a little overwhelming, especially right that moment. He dropped a hand beneath the table and clenched it into a fist – the countdown backwards from ten starting (ten-nine-eight…) in his head. The tightness left quickly, but he felt a little rattled – his patience still on the wrong side of thin. “I promise that you won’t be.”

He took her at that and reluctantly agreed, his inability to say no to her something he needed to work on now that they were back in the same place again. Peter Parker grew into a respectable adult – he could put his foot down when necessary. Maybe. He hoped.

The next afternoon, Peter left his brand-new office and grabbed a cab – the process still as exhilarating as ever. At least he’d grown in his absence and the vehicles actually saw him when he waved from the curbside. Minnesota didn’t have the same hustle and bustle – so the luxury and relative newness kept him staring out the window the entire drive. The upscale buildings made his heart race a little – the reaction another clue telling him he was home.

The little café looked exactly the same as it did in his memory – upscale with a side of hipster. They tried to make the record player in the corner look vintage, but the current technology couldn’t be disguised. The Upper East Side had standards after all. He took a second to catch his bearings before approaching May and the dark-haired man sitting next to her. The particular color struck him as familiar – but then again, who the fuck was he?

Like she knew he was there, May turned to look over his shoulder and caught his eyes, her token smile pulling today’s pink coated lips up, causing a swift crease by both of her eyes. “There he is,” he made out, a hand coming up in a slight wave.

And then – he stopped in his tracks.

The man who turned to look in the same direction as May wasn’t just any man – no – his beautiful cousin was dating the one person Peter could honestly say he missed more than ever. His Tony – well, not really his anymore. Obviously. His heart wanted to jump out of his chest and run over there, every part of him paralyzed except for that particular muscle.

His mouth watered and for a second, he thought about turning right around and getting the hell out of dodge before something went wrong – before he lost control and got down on his knees to beg the man for forgiveness. The thought was so fucking enticing, especially when his eyes finally caught gorgeous amber honey eyes, the look there a mixture of surprise, excitement, and hurt. Gulping in a big breath of air, Peter forced himself to keep walking.

He could do this.

Rounding in on the table, Peter stayed on his feet next to the other open chair at the table – the idea of running still sitting in the forefront of his mind. May reached a hand over and patted his, the touch he figured was supposed to be comforting – instead, it made his skin itch. How dare she – ! And then it hit him that he didn’t have a singular right to feel that way. Guiltily, he flipped his hand over and gripped hers, the skin soft under his own calloused palm calming.

“I’m glad you made it,” she said genuinely. “Babe, this is – “ May started to say, her hand drawing back from Peter to pat against her boyfriend’s arm, his gaze fixing on Peter’s once again.

“I’m Peter, May’s cousin,” Peter blurted out, his hand shooting into the space between them. He felt like an idiot, a total loser still standing with his hand out and the single most confused look on his face. He didn’t need to see his own expression to know how freaked he look – he could feel the way his stomach was trying to drop out of his asshole.

A warm hand gripped his own a couple seconds later, the hold firm, the touch familiar. The natural chemistry between them swallowed Peter whole – his hand on fire and the arm attach to it numb and the chest attached to it trying it’s best to collapse in. The audacity of his body to be so mutinous – fuck the littlest bit of joy that settled over him. But god, he’d missed this man.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Tony, the boyfriend.” Tony shot him the still recognizable shit eating grin – his hand keeping Peter’s in the tight hold for another couple of heartbeats, each one dragging him down further and further. What were the odds? How could this possibly be happening? Chuckling, Peter covered up his freak out by dropping Tony’s hand and finally taking the seat he’d been standing by.

For a second, it seemed like May could read the tension suddenly infiltrating the room. Her eyes roamed between the two of them, eyelids narrowed. Then, she tilted her head and smiled sheepishly – “Great, now that’s over with – I’m going to grab some coffee. You two get to know each other.”

Peter shot her a look, the silent plea in his eyes obviously not recognizable – she merely nodded her head towards Tony and turned around, the conversation obviously over.

That same hand from before touching his made Peter glance up quickly, his eyes wide. Now that he wasn’t being watched directly, Peter took a second to really look at the man across from him. There didn’t seem to be any signs of aging, Tony’s face was smooth, aside from the goatee he’d only been nursing when Peter was around. His eyes were still that deep brown, the heavy wave of their darkness never failing to pull him in. His hair was a little longer – like he’d purposely been trying to grow it out.

Time was very kind to Tony Stark – so kind, in fact, that Peter could easily admit he was even more handsome than 6 years ago, a feat that didn’t seem fair. The hand didn’t move during his perusal, though the fingers attached to it did start to roam over the skin of his palm. The mechanism Tony used all those years ago to bring Peter back to the present. Blinking away the thoughts, Peter forced himself to teether to the spot, this next interaction one he probably didn’t want to miss.

“My May, Tony?” Peter ended up saying after a few more heartbeats of Tony tracing the lines of his palm, the familiar touch so goddamn soothing. There wasn’t much else to say – not when there were so many things unsaid, so many things that Peter wanted to explain, and by the looks of it – Tony felt the same way. Glancing over, Peter sighed with a sort of relief when he noticed May completely engrossed in the drink board, her fingers playing with her lip.

The deep vibrato of Tony’s laugh shot a tingle down the middle of his spine – his body not taking long to once again tune itself to the delicacies that were Tony Stark. He balled his right hand into a fist, a blinding hope that out of all the times he’d done it, this would be the time it actually allowed him to relax. No dice, though – Peter almost melted into a puddle when Tony started to speak.

“I didn’t even know you had a May, Pete. I was supposed to meet your family when they came in for graduation – but you know how well that went,” Tony pointed out, his hand drawing back now, the man knowing he had Peter’s full attention. “I’m just as surprised about this as you are.”

Peter could tell, too. There was a sort of vulnerability in Tony’s eyes that even in all their time together, Peter didn’t get to see often. For a second, he wondered if May knew that look – if she understood the gift she was being given. It took him way too long to realize Tony was a man of simplicity who gave affection the only way he could – with subtlety and in the littlest of ways. Oh, how he’d taken those little things for granted.

“I can’t believe it’s you that I’m sitting here with right now. Of all the people in New York,” Peter muttered, his hands spinning the pile of coasters sitting on the table. He couldn’t, either – it felt like the universe’s way of slapping him in the face. The karmic retribution for being a total fucking asshole to someone who in the end, didn’t deserve it – not a single bit.

Tony laughed then, his upper body adjusting against the back of the chair, his arm slinging over the back of the chair, resting there like this was some casual meeting, like just looking at him in such an open position wasn’t killing Peter from the inside out. Or maybe Tony knew exactly what he was doing to him, each move calculated to get the biggest bang for his buck – to pull the reactions from Peter and watch him squirm.

Either way – Peter couldn’t tear his eyes away. The thought of running coursed through his head again, this time to save himself the humiliation of this – this situation that could not go anywhere but further and further into the garbage. May didn’t know anything about their shared past, though – she wouldn’t understand the immediate need to get the hell out of dodge and avoid her for the next however long. Preferably long enough for her to no longer be dating Tony, but he didn’t get to decide that little detail.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Tony finally uttered, a smirk on his lips – he was trying for snark, for aloof and uninterested. Peter could see the way he glanced at him, though – his rebuttal the guiding hand for their interactions from here on out.

Peter took the bait, the part of him that still belonged to Tony speaking before his brain could get in on the action. “I’m not disappointed. It’s so good to see you. You look amazing,” Peter prattled off, his restless hands spinning one of the coasters from the pile between his fingers. “I’m far from disappointed, Tony.”

He didn’t know how true that was, either, not until he heard the words for himself. Despite May being the person Tony sat next to, it immediately felt good to be in his presence. Like simply being in his orbit set things right, the magnetic field surrounding him finally put back into the correct position. The brunette across from him should have a piece in his life – the fact that he accidently walked into it a second time sign enough.

They didn’t get to talk for any longer after that, May brought over three coffees and sat down, the woman immediately starting in on her babbling – he forgot how much she could talk and how passionate she could be when she did. Peter didn’t stay much longer, the thought of sticking around to witness anything coupley between them making his stomach turn.

After making his escape, Peter walked for a while, the haze of Tony Stark and all he’d been to him bringing him under. When he eventually caught a cab home, it was well into the evening – he passed the whole day away thinking about a man from his past, someone who he felt like he had unfinished business with.

----

In an attempt to forget that entire meeting existed, Peter went out of his way to avoid May – with his job starting up and the season just coming to an end, it was easier than he figured it was going to be. There weren’t a lot of things for him to do, yet – but he enjoyed getting to know some of the athletes and familiarizing himself with the facilities equipment. It far surpassed the places he’d been conducting his rehabs in before.

There was no forgetting Tony Stark, he understood that after years of trying to clear his brain of the man – but maybe he could avoid dealing with him and the unsettling and unmoving feelings that were settling in again, taking root. He loved May and he knew enough about family code to keep his distance and remove himself from a situation that could get very bad, very quick.

It sort of worked, too – sooner than expected, Peter finished his first month in the city. Most of his apartment was put together and he finally felt settled in at his job. They team was on a little break, which meant he also got to take some time for himself – a thing he thought he might actually enjoy. There hadn’t been time for vacations over the past couple of years, surviving came first.

About to settle in for a nap, Peter sat straight up when his phone vibrated, the notification that “Maybe: Tony Stark” was texting him stealing all the air from his lungs. Throwing the phone down like it burnt him, Peter forced himself into a comfortable position and drew in long breathes, his chest so goddamn tight, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. Finally able to use his brain to think and not just perform simple bodily functions (like breathing,) Peter picked up the phone again, his hands trembling.

Maybe: Tony Stark [2:26PM]: PICTURE MESSAGE Maybe: Tony Stark [2:27PM]: Do you remember Dum-E? He got an upgrade.

Peter lost his shit when he saw the picture, Tony’s prized robot was flipping him the finger, his traditional DUNCE cap sitting proudly on the top of its head. He pressed on the image to zoom in, the articulation of the joint almost spot on. Saving Tony’s contact, he moved to reply. It was against his better judgement – he shouldn’t even be thinking about it. But – he was weak. Peter didn’t have any trouble admitting that.

Peter Parker [2:31PM]: Tony Stark – did you teach your robot how to throw the bird just for me? Peter Parker [2:33PM]: Glad to see you’re still as elegant as ever.

He put his phone face down on the couch and forced himself up – his stomach growling all of the sudden. In times of desperation and nervousness, Peter didn’t get sick to his stomach. No, he felt the need to eat everything in sight, instead. The crumbled carcasses of 4 Doritos bags were already sitting on his counter, the evidence of his emotion fueled binges staring him straight in the face. Deciding on something healthier, Peter brought a bowl of cereal back to the couch with him. Finally letting himself look at the phone again, Peter got lost in the back and forth for a while.

Tony Stark [2:39PM]: Anything for you, Petey. Tony Stark [2:41PM]: I was just telling him about our little reunion, he wanted to show you how much he missed you. Tony Stark [2:42PM]: Still can’t believe that’s how you walked back into my life.

Peter Parker [2:45PM]: You two are such gems. Peter Parker [2:46PM]: That makes two of us. Peter Parker [2:47PM]: I am the king of great timing.

Tony Stark [2:50PM]: I am a delicate ruby, you’re absolutely correct. Tony Stark [2:51PM]: I literally just laughed out loud. It’s a good thing my private lab is y’know – private. Tony Stark [2:53PM]: You’re actually a huge dick with the worst timing.

Peter Parker [3:00PM]: You’d be a delicate opal, don’t lie. Peter Parker [3:01PM]: Are we talking about my dick now? Peter Parker [3:03PM]: In all seriousness, I know. I am. I’ll admit it. It probably doesn’t mean much, but I am sorry. Peter Parker [3:05PM]: Very.

Tony Stark [3:15PM]: I’ll take that as a compliment, Peter. Opals are multi-faceted. Tony Stark [3:17PM]: You started it. Tony Stark [3:18PM]: It doesn’t – mean much. I do accept it, though. Your apology. Tony Stark [3:20PM]: I knew where you went the second I saw the Mayo Clinic letter still sitting there. I wish you just told me, instead.

That last text message made Peter pause, his hand coming up to press against his mouth – the gesture a dashed attempt at keeping the gasp from falling from his lips. He never considered that, the fact that Tony would have simply gave him a hug and congratulated him. Peter took the strain and stress of Tony figuring out how to step into big shoes as something completely different, a lot bleaker. Maybe, at the time, he let it be an excuse, too.

There was a desperate sort of hatred for himself whenever he thought about what he did. On the other hand, Peter knew the only way he was going to grow was to get out and do it. There were obviously better ways to go about it – but he couldn’t change that now. The fact that May was dating the man he loved so much and treated so dirty – it all kind of made a twisted sort of sense.

Peter Parker [3:35PM]: It was a compliment. Peter Parker [3:36PM]: I did – it’s nice, I have to be proud when I can. Peter Parker [3:38PM]: Thank you – that’s all that I can ask for. Peter Parker [3:41PM]: I don’t have a good excuse as to why I didn’t. You were doing your thing, I didn’t think – I just went and did the same. Peter Parker [3:45PM]: I needed to figured things out – and I did exactly that. Just – a little too late.

When he didn’t get a response after that, Peter wasn’t all that surprised. Typing the words out felt lame and he knew there’d been no justice or retribution. At this point in either of their lives, it didn’t seem prudent for there to be – Tony had May, even if it still weirded him out a little bit to think about it. Peter made his decision six years ago, choosing himself over everything else. The least he could do was stand by that.

Making up excuses that would never explain the density of his want to figure himself out before he gave himself completely to another. And, wow did he want to give himself completely to Tony. Of course, there were better ways to go about it – there were much better ways. Stepping away from the situation, he formulated twenty, thirty – tons. Yet, Peter wasn’t sure he would have been able to pull off any of them without chickening out.

So – he dealt with the consequence. Hurting the person he loved the most, watching him with his cousin, feeling just the slightest bit incomplete – that was his penance. At least he knew he did the right thing for him. When the right person came around, no matter how much he wanted it to be Tony, he could genuinely and honestly be in it – giving himself would be so very easy. That thought made him just a bit more content – even if it didn’t keep him warm at night, it kept him sane.

The next couple of weeks went by quickly – he spent the days he didn’t go into the office wandering around the city, his heart truly full now that he was back. There truly was no place like home. When Ned and MJ found out he was back, they got together a couple times a week just to hangout and catch up. Ned worked for a computer engineering company and got to enjoy the spoils of his youth behind the keys. MJ taught at Midtown and came packed with the best gossip.

One night in the middle of June, the three of them were gathered around Peter’s coffee table, the remains of Chinese food scattered around. Peter had been in the city for four months now – each one better than the next. It felt good to be able to do what he wanted – to be able to afford copious amounts of food and stupid movies on DirectTV. They were watching the newest Men in Black when Peter’s phone vibrated. A soft smile slipped across his face when he noticed it was Tony.

For the first couple of days, it felt weird to be texting Tony so much. Tony sent him another message out of the blue the very next day that broke the weird spell of the past they decided to dredge up – and they’d been texting ever since. It remained casual – despite the vibe that Tony wouldn’t mind if it did. Peter wouldn’t, either – if he were being completely honest. But, May deserved more than that.

Glancing down at his phone, Peter felt his smile grow – Tony’s initial jump into conversation was always off the wall, always completely random.

Tony Stark [8:01PM]: Did you know that the state sport in Maryland is jousting? Tony Stark [8:03PM]: Like, legit medieval era shit.

Peter couldn’t hold back the laugh, despite not wanting to give himself away. He wasn’t ready to talk about any of it with anyone – but he’d already been caught out, MJ was too smart for her own good. “What, or I guess who, has got you smiling like that?” she quirked a brow at him, the lady like a bloodhound sniffing out a scent.

Biting into his bottom lip, Peter didn’t answer for a few seconds – his fingers too busy sending off a reply.

Peter Parker [8:07PM]: I did not know that. I’ve been to a Renaissance festival, so I’ve seen it – I couldn’t imagine that being a very practical sport, however. Peter Parker [8:08PM]: Did you find that on the back of a Laffy Taffy wrapper?

A warm feeling settled within him, the ease in which he could talk to Tony hadn’t gone anywhere – even with 6 years and a ton of baggage between them. Finally glancing up at MJ, he took a deep breath, the news he was about to give something that would probably confuse the fuck out of her. She was the only one he told about leaving for Minnesota, she knew how big of a deal it was to disappear like he did.

“It’s Tony,” Peter mumbled, his face heating, though his eyes never wavered.

In true Ned style, he jumped into the conversation randomly, his voice echoing around the room. “You mean like – Tony Stark? The Tony?” he asked, his entire body shifting, his attention now on Peter and MJ completely.

Blushing further, Peter nodded – his fingers brushing through his hair as he did. “The one and only. It’s weird – he’s dating May and I know that. And things are strictly friendly between us – but it could easily be something else.”

MJ moved a little closer, a hand pressing into his thigh. “I always thought it was a little weird that you were dating the golden boy. And when you left – I thought maybe that was the end. I don’t know, Peter – I hope you’re thinking about what you’re doing,” her voice sounded concerned, his heart warming a little at the sentiment.

“I am – I’m thinking about it, pretty frequently, actually. The last time I saw May, she didn’t talk about him much or bring him up at all, really. I can’t tell – but nothing is going to happen while he’s with May. Maybe he’ll stay with her, who knows,” Peter started to ramble, so he shut his mouth, his thoughts so scattered on the matter. Things were so natural, so easy – it made the whole situation a whole lot more confusing.

MJ brushed her long hair out of her face, an indifferent look in her eyes. From the get-go with Tony, MJ took that approach. She kept herself in it just enough to be a shoulder that Peter could lean against. “You’ll never convince me that he’s the great guy you say he is, but whatever you decide – I support you. Just don’t fuck up your relationship with May, we all know how important that is to you.” MJ stated, her eyes doing the smiling for her. She turned back to the TV and said nothing more.

As always, Ned followed suit. Shaking his head at the group antics, Peter shifted his focus back to his phone, his conversation with Tony completely absorbing him for the rest of the movie. He’d seen the movie before, anyway – the end was the only part that was really worth watching.

A couple hours later, MJ and Ned filed out of his apartment – Ned lightly punching his arm and MJ pulling him into a hug. She kept him in her arms for an extra second, her grip tight. “Be careful, okay? Can’t have you running away again.” Her words were whispered and driven home by the softest press of a kiss to his cheek.

He closed the door and leaned against it, the flurry of emotions from the evening hitting him – making everything he’d been thinking about magnifying tenfold. Nights with his friends were always fun, but stupidly exhausting – especially when MJ got into detective mode. In any other case, the details would have gladly come out of his mouth – it was nice to have friends he that he knew kept secrets like the pros that they were.

The collective thought of Tony still made him feel a bit raw. Like the wound could heal – he just didn’t know what the remedy was. A part of him knew he was dancing with the line, keeping his conversations with Tony going. Another part figured that they were both adults and could make sound decisions. Tony understood what he was doing just as well as Peter.

Which is why he was surprised to hear a knock on his door about ten minutes later. Checking his phone, he didn’t see a text from either Ned or MJ – though, it wouldn’t shock him if they just came stomping back in. At least they decided to knock instead of using his not so well-hidden spare key.

Pulling open the door, he started to speak, his mouth moving before his eyes bothered to take in what was in front of them. “What’d you guys forget – “ Peter picked up his head while he spoke, a soft smile on his face. Realizing who actually stood there, Peter straightened up, brown eyes wide. “Tony?”

Taken aback, Peter wondered for a second how the hell the man even found him. Though, he quickly realized he was dealing with a technology genius. He could also recall a conversation about an AI that dealt with most of Tony’s affairs. Licking his lips, Peter desperately tried to cure his dry mouth – just the sight of the other man enough to sweep his feet out from under him. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands still sticking up from earlier.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony started, one of his hands pressing into the doorframe, his body only a foot or so away from Peter’s. The tightness in his chest made him want to buckle in on himself – the feeling way too fucking much. He watched Tony draw in a deep breath, his eyes murky with a gale of emotions. “Jarvis told me where you lived. I hope it’s okay.”

And just like that, Peter was stepping back from the door, the both of them hovering in the hallway, the space between them narrowed down even more now. “It’s okay – it wouldn’t be you if you weren’t doing crazy shit like that.” He let a light laugh leave his lips, the exhalation of breath doing nothing to ease the tension inside of him. “Why are you – why are you here?”

Tony straightened his posture at the question, the softness in his eyes hardening a little. So – they were going to have a serious talk, then. Crossing his arms, Peter steeled himself for whatever Tony had to say. In all of the time they’d been reconnecting – this conversation never made its way back to the surface, at least, not until this very moment.

He watched color spread over the top of Tony’s cheeks, eyes dropping to look at their feet. “I always wondered when you stopped loving me. I told myself that’s what happened – because it made it easier to accept that you left. You didn’t though, did you? Stop. You’re just a selfish prick,” Tony got out, his words harsh, despite the soft tone they were delivered in. “I thought – maybe we could be friends. There’s been enough time for the hurts in my heart to be patched. I got over it a long time ago. I did not take into account, however – how I didn’t get over you.”

The words felt like a punch to the gut – not because he didn’t want to hear them. Oh, no – he’d been longing to hear those words for years now. Digging himself into a hole didn’t have to mean certain death – he thought maybe he could find his way back to Tony someday. The damage came from the fact that, despite the immensity of want coursing through him, Peter couldn’t act – wouldn’t.

“You haven’t said a singular false statement, Tony. I never stopped loving you. I took the only out I could find – you finding yourself and giving more and more of your time to it – and decided I needed to do the same. Once I mustered the courage, I knew it would be the only time, so I left. I wouldn’t have left otherwise. You, me – we deserve this Peter, the one who knows what he wants and can make it happen. I’m just – the king of bad timing,” Peter whispered the last few words, the reality of them feeling like the final smackdown.

A silence settled between them then, the tension in the room coming to a head. Thinking about it later, he couldn’t decide who made the move first – all of the sudden, Peter was wrapped up in Tony’s arms and they were kissing – kissing like their fucking lives depended on it. He felt long fingers slid into his hair and tug, the warm press of Tony’s torso against his own absolutely divine. His own arms wrapped around Tony’s middle, his body on fire from that simple little touch.

The inability to think kept him under the haze of their joined passion, his lips moving without thought or hesitancy. Tony’s tongue plunged into his mouth and Peter hung on for dear life, his own head tilting to deepen the kiss even further. His chest burnt from the lack of oxygen, but he couldn’t pull away – the second the high of his skin against Tony’s left, Peter’s conscience would reign supreme again.

Tony’s chocked off moan snapped the delicate spell controlling them, Peter’s body on fire, his mind all over the place. “Fuck. Stop – Tony. We have to stop,” Peter mumbled, his hands moving from the solid flanks of Tony’s sides to the bulk of his shirt, fingers digging in. “We can’t do this.” Even as the words were coming out of his mouth, he felt himself leaning in, his nose dragging over Tony’s. “This isn’t rejection – I just can’t. Not when you’re with May. I refuse to hurt her like that,” he pressed a final kiss to Tony’s lips and forced himself away – chest still heaving.

Both of Tony’s hands came up in surrender, the look in his eye resolute. “You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry, Pete – I shouldn’t have come here like this.” He kept his glance tied to Peter’s, the other man still so easy to read – his hurt and confusion written plain as day.

“It’s okay, Tony. It’s okay.” Peter didn’t know what he was saying was okay, or even if it was – but the need to soothe took over. He reached forward and palmed Tony’s cheek, his thumb brushing over the arch there.

For a second, Tony leaned into the touch, the bourbon color of his eyes buried under closed eyelids. Peter trailed his finger back and forth, the digit moving until he felt a breath of air against his forearm and Tony was pulling away. He didn’t say anything, he simply opened the door and walked through it. His eyes trailed after the other man until he was down the hallway and out of sight.

This time, he shut the door and slid down it – his head falling into his hands.

----

Never prescribing to the age old ‘when it rains, it pours’ thing, Peter wasn’t expecting the knock on his door early the next morning. After Tony left, Peter barely made it to the couch before passing out into a fitful sleep. Between tossing, turning, and a mind that didn’t want to slow down and stop – Peter could count on two fingers how many hours of complete sleep he got. Sitting up, Peter looked groggily around the room, the disturbance in his sleep something he thought he might have dreamed up until another knock sounded.

“Peter, I know you’re home! I can see your open porch door from the street.” May’s voice was the last thing he figured he’d be hearing. The taste of Tony still lingered on his lips – Tony’s stubble making the skin above them a little raw, too. How in the world could he face May right now – when he hadn’t even had time to process what happened, or how he reacted, or even how Tony reacted.

Grumbling, Peter got up off the couch, his feet heavy in their steps towards the door. It felt like he spent the night before getting completely wasted, yet he didn’t have a singular sip. A couple of quick runs of his fingers through his hair and Peter finally felt ready to pull open the door and face whatever might come his way. Even if it was terrible.

Peter took a couple of deep breaths, his hand not wanting to move to actually get the damn door open. He braced himself, the idea that he might take a hand to the face or harsh words thrown his way that would eclipse him. There was nothing, though. May simply looked at him, two to-go coffee cups in her hands. “Are you going to let me in?” she asked, her voice neutral, the look in her eye hard to read.

He took a step back quickly, his arm sweeping wide. “Hi May, yes – please come in. I just got up, so my brain still isn’t working all that well.” It would have sounded like an excuse if he weren’t still shirtless with marks from the couch all over his right side. He stepped back further, the space now more of an open invitation that May took gracefully.

If this were a social call, they would have wandered to his makeshift bed of a couch and sat down – his cousin’s hands already moving to take the remote and put on whatever show she was currently addicted to. She would have jammed the coffee she was holding into the thickness of his chest, the joke of almost scolding him something they’d been doing since Peter came to stay with May and her family. The atmosphere would have been a little bit more accepting.

Yet, none of those things happened. May put his coffee cup on the middle of his kitchen table and sat down in one of the chairs. Knowing how different things would have been, Peter didn’t hesitate to take the seat opposite her, his hands wrapping around the warm to-go cup on instinct. He didn’t even take a second to put a shirt on – he simply sat down and waited, each second that past like a sweet torture.

Eventually, she pulled her phone out and started to flip through it, a concentrated look on her face. Finding what she needed, May pushed the phone over towards him. He took it a little hesitantly, his mind wandering around all of the possible things that could be on that phone. There wasn’t anyone else around when Tony came here last night – so with that, at least, they were in the clear.

His breath caught, though – the photo on her screen one he knew with familiarity, one that he glanced at more times than he cared to remember. The memory of the day the picture was taken still sat fresh in his mind. They were at Tony’s place, probably about a year into their relationship. They were celebrating the end of the semester and people were everywhere – the streaks and blurs in the background their friends caught in a second of chaos. Peter and Tony were in the middle of a conversation when MJ called over – “Snuggle up, love birds – let me take a picture.”

Peter could still remember how quickly Tony stepped up behind him, arms embracing without hesitation. They both beamed at the camera, the smiles on their faces so genuine. What Peter liked the most about it, though, was the fact that MJ caught them a second before they looked back at each other.

Peter’s face was turned as if he were trying to look over his shoulder, his smile bright and big but eyes oriented in Tony’s direction. The hand on his chest was splayed open wide, Tony’s fingers one of the main focuses in it. The look on Tony’s face showed affection and happiness – but most importantly, love.

MJ gave it to them both in a frame a couple of days later, the gorgeousness of it something that even she couldn’t deny.

Eyes a little watery, Peter looked up from the phone and over at May, a questioning look in his eye. “Where did you even find this?” Peter knew for a fact that his copy was tucked into the box in his closet – one in which he only allowed himself to go through every now and again, one that he specifically brought in and put away himself.

“It’s in Tony’s lab. We were supposed to meet for lunch a few weeks ago, but he couldn’t leave, so I met him there. He left for a minute to get cleaned up, so I snooped – because why not, right? There are a couple of the two of you, but that one is right in the middle of his workspace. He told me a little bit about this epic love he still wasn’t really over, and it never once crossed my mind that it was with you.” May stopped then, her hands reached across the table for his. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The soft touch of her hands felt like a drastic juxtaposition to the raging war of emotions keeping him right on the edge of panic. As a distraction, he watched her thumbs brush against his hands, the movement hypnotic, easy to get lost in. The lull seemed to help calm him a little – Peter glanced back up at her, apprehension still so very visible.

“I didn’t treat him well at the end. For a while, it was nice to have this thing that was all my own. And when it got serious, I freaked a little. I ran away because I felt too much. It was easier not to acknowledge it out loud – because telling you about him made the selfish thing I did a lot more real. It took a while to find me and then a while after that to cope with how big of a dick I am.” He paused then, taking a long breath.

“I never thought I’d see him again – never. Then, he’s sitting next to you and everything I have neglected for six years suddenly hit me square in the face. May, you seemed happy – I’ve been selfish enough,” Peter knew he had to get all of that out, or he probably wouldn’t, the acknowledgement of so many things harder than he ever imagined possible.

He gripped her hands, pulling them towards him a little. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” And that was the truth. Regardless of how badly he handled other things, Peter couldn’t be careless with something like that – May and her feelings. Even if that came at the cost of his own.

At that, she chuckled, her lips quirking into the first real smile on her face all morning. “I saw the way you two were talking to each other the day I introduced you. It doesn’t take a genius to know chemistry when you see it. The picture just sort of – put all the pieces together. It’s okay, Pete. Really.”

Quirking a brow at her, he pulled his hands away and sat more fully in his chair. “There’s nothing going on, May. I – “ Peter stuttered out, but she held a hand up, a soft little smile on her face.

“There’s nothing going on between Tony and I anymore, either. He came over last night, started to talk a bunch of nonsense. It seemed like a good time to tell him I’d been seeing someone else, anyway. You remember Ben? Either way – he is single and not attached to me, so you no longer have to factor hurting or upsetting me into any of your life choices.”

She got up then and came around the table, her arms engulfing Peter into a tight hug. “This is a lesson on when to keep secrets from me. I hope you learned that never is probably the best course of action,” she mumbled against the side of his head, Peter’s chest shaking with laughter before she let him go. And just like they were kids again, she slapped the back of his head hard, a cackle slipping from her lips. “Stop ignoring me, okay? Let’s be friends again.”

It took a few more minutes of banter back and forth for Peter to totally comprehend all the things May told him – he couldn’t get past the green light of acceptance; despite all the other juicy things he’d just been told. His mind immediately went to Tony, the thought of pulling his phone out and texting him flashing across his mind. Then, he realized just how much he missed May and put it on the back burner. If he were reading the room right the night before, he didn’t think Tony would be going anywhere anytime soon.

“Yeah, alright.” Peter said after a second, their eyes meeting. He could see nothing but clarity in those hazel eyes, a look he knew to be acceptance and contentment. It felt good to be able to read her again, the crippling guilt no longer between them. “I’m not going to the office today. Want to binge something on Netflix?”

Her lips pulled into a smile, the look in her eye mischievous – “Actually, I think we should find you something to wear to this,” she murmured, hands rummaging in her bag until an envelope came into view. Peter didn’t need to see the Stark Industries logo in the corner to know what she was referring to. The Stark Gala – the height of events for the engineering and technology society. It seemed kind of fitting, a reunion at one of these events after the shitty end to the last one.

A soft blush set in his cheeks then, a silent sort of understanding happening between them. This wasn’t just acceptance from May, but a push in the right direction, too. He took the envelope from her, then pulled her smaller frame into his arms. “Thanks, May.”

When they parted for the afternoon, May pulled him into another hug and wished him luck. The suit they picked out was going to look pretty damn good on him – even if it wasn’t one of the fancy custom-made ones. The whole time, it felt like being with May when they were younger, when there wasn’t a care in the world. Maybe that was because the trauma between them was officially over, or maybe May felt like she knew Peter a bit better. Whatever it was, Peter enjoyed the time thoroughly.

It felt like the first time since getting here that he wasn’t stressed or watching over his shoulder. Even though he enjoyed every single second of being back in the place that felt like home, there were so many things still trying to press him down and keep him there. The weight of his chain felt a few links shorter now. In hindsight, the simple truth would have been much easier than all the angst – but hey, that’s how lessons are learned.

There was just enough time to sneak in a nap – Peter grateful for that fact. They decided early into their conversation that the surprise of his presence would make much more of an impact than a text, so Peter kept control of himself and didn’t say a word to the other man. He could already picture the look on Tony’s face. With the rest of the night on his mind, Peter slept pretty peacefully – his body finally content with where things were headed for him.

Actually feeling refreshed upon waking up, Peter took his time getting dressed. The blue suit and light grey shirt combo looked great in the mirror at the store, the jacket fit his shoulders nicely and the slacks hugged the curve of his ass just right. With the addition of some product in his hair and a small white-gold chain around his neck, Peter looked ever better. It’d been a long time since he dressed up like this – he appreciated the view and hoped Tony would, too.

Peter splurged on the relatively expensive Uber into Manhattan, his conversation with Paula the driver helping to ease any nervousness that wanted to bubble up inside him. Surprisingly, though, there wasn’t much other than excitement coursing through him. No matter what happened, Peter felt a sense of freedom he didn’t before. If Tony decided the craziness they were able to build was what he wanted, Peter couldn’t wait to give himself completely to it. Finally.

It was pretty easy to slip out of the Uber and into the party without dealing with any of the press. They weren’t interested in someone like him. He gave his name and flashed the invitation to the man he remembered as Happy at the door – the exchange easy and over before he knew it. There were lots of people scattered around the upper floor of Stark Industries, the age range wide and varied and the dress much the same. Peter fit right into the people flitting around and used that as an advantage to scope out Tony.

Looking around, he felt a little disappointed when he didn’t see the man right off the bat. He decided to put the search on hold and get a drink when he felt a hand on his arm. “Hope you’re not leaving already.”

He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know who the hand belonged to – the ghost of Tony’s touch still haunted him on a pretty constant basis. A soft smile slipped across his lips, the other man’s presence did that to him – especially now that it didn’t come with the not so gentle pang of guilt. “No, not yet. I just now found what I was looking for.” Peter’s response was shift, said with confidence.

Tony tugged on his arm until they were facing each other, their chests almost pressing together. After so many years, it felt like the first time all over again – this dance they were doing. Their even height made it easy to catch amber colored eyes – the yellow tinted glasses Tony took to wearing enhanced the color of his eye, the depth of it so easy to get lost in.

“I’ve done my rounds for the night, come upstairs with me,” Tony mumbled, his voice just loud enough for Peter and Peter alone to hear. The warm caress of the liquid smokiness arousal always made Peter think of washed over him, his arms wrapping themselves around Tony’s neck. He pressed in for a kiss, the need unable to be denied. It stayed chaste for the sake of not being in public when things turned steamy.

“Lead the way, Tony,” Peter responded, his brain forcing his body to step away, to keep some space until he could have all of the other man. A work-roughened hand gripped his own, their fingers tangling – Tony led the way through the crowd seamlessly, his ability to fit in despite the sheer amount of attention he could attract was impressive. Probably learned from all the times he did his best to escape the charade over the years.

It was nice to see that some things never changed.

Once they were in the elevator, Tony didn’t hold back – this one led to his part of the penthouse, so they wouldn’t be disturbed. “I’m guessing May talked to you and this is your way of saying that it’s okay to do this,” Tony babbled before grabbing his cheeks and pressing their lips together, the kiss hot and on the right side of desperate. Peter figured he didn’t need to verbally answer, he gripped Tony’s hips instead and kissed back, his tongue pressing forward to join the warmth in the luscious caverns in Tony’s mouth.

Forgoing the tie ended up being a good idea, Tony’s hands were everywhere as they kissed, the tips moving from Peter’s cheeks, down his chin, neck, and under the slight gap of his button up shirt. Each place he touched felt like molten lava, the stroke of his fingers branding his skin – every inch becoming Tony’s once again. Finally, the elevator doors broke open, the dark comfort of Tony’s home just a couple steps forward.

Peter broke away then, his chest heavy from too much carbon dioxide, breaths coming in pants. “It’s okay. I want you, Tony. All of you. Because I finally know how to give all of me, too.” He used the lapels of Tony’s jacket to seal their lips back together, his feet working on their own accord, the path back to Tony’s room still etched into the forefront of his brain. Aside from bumping into the wall a couple of times, Peter and Tony were in the bedroom in no time.

Nimble fingers started to work on Peter’s shirt, Tony’s eye wide with eagerness and heat – the pupils blown open, taking over that precious brown warmth. His gaze made Peter feel a little on display, his skin on fire – the seconds passing making him feel like he needed to crawl out of it. A soft sigh of relief left his lips when the cool air hit his skin, the scalding deliciousness of Tony’s touch all of the sudden bearable again.

Quickly getting in on the action, Peter worked on Tony’s bow tie, the knot coming undone without much effort. Tony tried to press in for a kiss, but Peter kept some distance between them. “I’m going to cum in my pants if you keep doing that. It’s been a while – let me see you,” Peter stammered, his words lazy, the blood meant for his brain traveling lower, instead. He got all of the buttons open without fault, a look of triumph on his face. Greedy hands pushed the suit jacket and shirt off in one go, Tony finally shirtless – skin on display.

His fingers skimmed across tight pecs and prickled nipples, down across each of Tony’s ribs, and along the seam of his abdominals. The trail of hair Peter remembered so fondly seemed a little thicker, the change one of the only signs of aging he could really see. His dress pants sat on slim hips, a v on either side guiding his eyes to the real treasure. He could see the bulge there, Tony’s length long and eager, exactly the way he liked to remember it.

The rest of their clothes came off in a fumble to get onto the bed, Peter’s back hitting the mattress without any fight, a sigh of delight slipping from his lips when Tony settled over him. The weight felt divine, the tangibility of being pressed down amping up the slow spread of arousal tenfold. “Fuck, you feel good,” Peter gasped against Tony’s shoulder. The man was caressing his flanks, fingers moving reverently, like devotion and memorization were the only options.

The ticklish feeling kept him from getting too close to the edge too fast – Tony’s touches driving him crazy in so many ways. His hips rolled up every now and then, the semi-constant friction just enough to stave off the intense itch that needed to be scratched. Peter did his best to memorize the way Tony’s hips felt against his own, how the sweat on his brow rolled down so very slowly, how even after so much time – this felt so goddamn right.

Throwing his arms around Tony’s neck, Peter pulled him down for a fierce kiss, feelings overwhelming him, the earnestness of the interaction so much – everything he wanted. Their lips met for a sloppy kiss, tongues tangling between them, the taste of Tony in his mouth just as exciting as the slip slide of their bodies together. Peter’s fingers roamed through Tony’s hair, the softness of it a nice contrast to the heat overtaking them both.

The need to breath forced them apart, Tony’s forehead leaning down, resting against Peter’s. “I’ve missed you, Pete. So much,” the other whispered, the words kissing his cheeks in a tender brush. His eyes were closed, but Peter could tell he was trying to hold back tears or emotion – or maybe both.

With both hands, he cupped Tony’s cheeks, the other lifting his head enough for them to be looking into each other’s eyes. “I missed you. I’m here now, though – not going anywhere, either,” Peter said softly. He hoped to convey how genuine the words were – that despite how big of a shit he’d been, there still might be a future. He didn’t deserve it – but fuck did he hope for it.

“I won’t let you,” Tony replied, his cheeks lifting into a wide smile. “Jarvis can find you, so don’t even think about it.” He turned his head to press a kiss to Peter’s palm, his nose nuzzling into the same spot. “Can I fuck you?” Tony murmured into the skin there, his eyes hot and hopeful. Peter could feel Tony’s cock against his flat belly – the length throbbing at just the mention of pressing into him. Peter grinned and used his grip on Tony to slip their lips together once again.

“Fuck, yes – please, Tony. I want you.”

Tony didn’t need any more prodding after that, he moved until he was on the bed next to Peter. “Turn over onto your side,” he mumbled, his hands pushing and tugging at Peter’s hips until he turned over. “I’m going to make you feel good, Petey – promise.”

Peter elongated his neck and let Tony pepper kisses against the skin there, the man’s hands still working over lean sides. He threw a hand behind himself and grabbed Tony’s hair, his fingers gripping to keep him as close as possible, so that the other man couldn’t pull away, even if he wanted to. A gasp left his mouth when Tony’s wandering hands wrapped around the front of his body and started to teasingly stroke his cock.

The pulls started off slow, like he was trying to orient himself with Peter again. His fingers were rough, a little bit more scarred than the last time Peter felt his touch – and yet, still completely perfect. The tip of his cock was already leaking, so the glide of Tony’s hand was delicious, the friction faultless. With the slightest of thrusts, Peter could feel the other’s cock against his ass. “Mm, you’re so fucking hard,” Peter babbled, his hands tightening in Tony’s hair.

“Fuck me, please. I want to be yours again.” He thrust his hips back and ground into Tony, if the words weren’t enough, he hoped the move would be.

Tony pulled his lips away from Peter’s neck to pant against it, a soft groan leaving his lips. “God, Pete – I, you’re too much,” he murmured, his hips thrusting forward again, his fingers tightening around Peter’s length. “I can’t wait to feel you.” He squeezed Peter again, then the fingers were gone – Tony’s hand now slipping down to slip between pert ass cheeks.

There were a few soft teases to Peter’s hole before Tony was pulling back – the mattress dipping with his weight. Peter immediately felt the cold of the room clinging to his back, the sweat there staring to dry. Absentmindedly, he let his hand trail down his chest – his fingers ghosting straight down his abs, the tips teasing along the sensitive skin there. His nerves were on fire and he couldn’t let that tingly sensation die down for a single second.

The warmth was back within a couple of minutes, Tony’s hand trailing down his side, the other tucking under Peter’s neck to keep him close. “Tuck this leg up a little,” Tony whispered, lips brushing against Peter’s ear. Complying quickly, he bent his leg – a moan leaving his lips when Tony’s finger filled the newly made space. The barely there touch had him clenching his eyes, mouth open wide. “Fuck!”

The snick of a lube cap opening pulled another sound from his chest, anticipation settling low in his belly, the heat there compounding with it, his cock dribbling a bit of precum at the thought of what was to come next. The first touch of the lube was cool on his skin – and immediately forgotten, the first press of Tony’s finger into him after so much time exquisite, painful, and just right – just enough to distract him.

He couldn’t help the constant stream of ‘Tony’ leaving his lips, each thrust of one, two, and then three fingers shredding ever sense of self and control and conscious thought. It was only Peter and Tony and the aching touches that could tear him apart and then delicately piece him back together. “I’m ready, Tony – I’m ready.” His words were desperate, as was the hand that shot behind him to get a nice grip on Tony’s hair again. “Please – “

“I’ve got you, Pete,” Tony said, his fingers pulling out, only to be replaced with the warm head of the other’s cock. Tony pressed his hips against his loosened hole and thrust forward slightly, just the tip slipping inside. Peter let his jaw drop in a silent moan. He felt Tony’s grunt against his neck before hearing it, the gust of breath sending goosebumps cascading across his skin.

Inch by inch, Peter felt himself relax and accept more of Tony – the stretch turning from a sheer burning sensation to delectable with every passing second. Then, Tony hooked an arm under his already tucked leg, the move opening him up further.

The last couple of inches were easier now, Peter’s hole exquisitely stretched and full – the press of Tony’s hips against his own the best part of all. “Fuck, you’re so tight. You’re clenched around me like if I pull out, you’ll never be whole again,” he babbled, hips pulling back ever so slightly.

Just like Tony said, Peter clenched down a little tighter around him, his heart rate picking up with the sweet ache of his hole stretching further. “Maybe I won’t be,” Peter responded, his eyes closing, Tony’s cock slipping almost all the way out of him, the head resting just past the ring of muscles. He already felt empty, the rightness of being filled missed dearly.

The teasing roll of his hips didn’t last, though – Peter clenched each time he tried to pull out and before long, Tony was panting heavily against his neck, the snap of his hips long and hard. “Harder, Tony – more,” Peter ground out, his jaw clenching with ever thrust in, the tip of Tony’s cock hitting his prostate dead on.

Leaning into Peter more heavily, Tony pressed his leg down until he was almost up on his knees, the weight pressing him fully into the mattress. “I’m so close. Touch yourself – “ Peter barely heard, Tony’s words spliced with pants and groans. He could feel the pulse of Tony’s cock inside of him, the harder and faster he moved, the more it seemed to thrum in time with their joint heartbeat.

It took a second for Peter to register the plea – he was creeping closer and closer to the edge, it felt hard to focus on anything. He complied, though, his fingers gripping tightly and stroking at the same pace as Tony’s thrusts. There was no holding back after that, the boiling heat in his stomach finally bubbling over – each spasm of his body drawing shot after shot of cum from his body. “Ah, Tony!”

He barely felt the hard bite against his shoulder blade, the world tilted on a different axis at the moment. The warmth of Tony finishing inside him kept him grounded, though – his hole tightening to keep him there, deep and exactly where he should be. Tony mumbled Peter’s name over and over again, his forehead coming to rest against the back of his neck.

It was a few minutes before Peter felt with it enough to move or talk or even feel his limbs. He felt Tony slip out and the delicious feeling of cum dripping from his hole – then he sunk into the mattress further, everything about him boneless. Tony’s weight pressed against him a moment later.

The room was quiet when Peter came down enough to turn a little, his arm reaching back to pet at Tony’s bare skin. “Let’s go shower – I’m gross,” Peter said softly, a chuckle leaving his lips when arms wrapped around his waist, Tony sink down into him a little further.

“Do we have to?” Tony whined, his nose brushing Peter’s ear, every breath he took ruffling the hair there.

“I need to,” Peter retorted, the man using his arms to push up a little, his leverage dislodging Tony from his back. “The way you had me pinned down, I came all over myself – I’m already a little itchy.” He moved until he could sit up – the cooling cum on his chest making him pull a face. Tony’s arm reached out to attempt to pull him down once more, but Peter avoided it – a soft smile on his face when he looked over his shoulder. “Come join me if you want.”

Luckily, not a lot had changed about the bathroom, the shower was a little bigger – but Jarvis was easy enough to access, the water starting without much of a hassle. Peter stepped under and let out a relieved grunt – the nerve endings of his skin still sensitive, the hot water just enough to ease that feeling a little. He stood there letting the water sleuth over him – the peace of it nice after such an adrenaline-fueled event.

The shower door opening a few minutes later didn’t surprise him – he simply relaxed into the arms that wrapped around his waist. “Will you stay?” Peter heard, his head tilting to the side to accommodate Tony’s head resting on his shoulder. “I just got you back, I don’t know if I can let you leave now.”

Pressing his head against Tony’s, Peter let his hands grab onto the ones around his waist – the grip tight. “I’ll stay. For as long as you’ll have me.”

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 10 - Gogo

Disclaimer:  So, this story is PG. Basically anything you might see come up in an old 90s sitcom, like Boy Meets World, Fresh Prince, Save by the Bell ect, is liable to show up along with anything that the parent shows cover. Nothing unsuitable for family entertainment, but clearly covering more mature subjects than the original source material, including today’s chapter which discusses alcohol.

Varian was hot. The sun beat down on the back of his neck and sweat began to trickle down his forehead. He couldn't remember experiencing a hotter day. In Corona the temperature wouldn't rise more than a balmy 15 degrees Celsius normally, but today, here in San Fansokyo, it had to be close to 20 or more. His phone said it was 73 degrees Fahrenheit specifically, but he was still getting used to the different measurements Americans typically used. All he knew was that he had worn the lightest clothes he had, a tank top and athletic shorts, and he was still burning up. 

Unfortunately, there was nowhere to escape from the oppressive heat. He was standing on the sidewalk next to a stranger's house while Gogo worked on their car. She did repair work on vehicles as a side job. Often exchanging her services for a cheaper price to other students which in turn gave her more flexibility in what jobs she took and when. 

Right now she was helping out another student whose car wouldn't start and didn't want to call a tow to take it to a mechanic. Varian had expressed an interest in learning how automobiles worked, so she had agreed to letting him come along and teaching him some basics. However, there was nothing for him to do at the moment. Gogo was under the vehicle on a rolling board and there wasn't enough room for both of them down there. So all Varian could do was standby and watch, which was difficult as he couldn't really see what she was doing from the position she was in now. 

Instead he surveyed the street and surrounding buildings. There were the tightly packed three story townhouses behind them and on the other side of the street were clothing shops, apartments, a bank on the far street corner, and a single restaurant that read ‘Maggie’s Pub and Grill’. Varian licked his lips at the thought of drinking something cold and wet to stave off the blistering heat. He dug his hands in his pockets to check if he had any cash. He still had a fiver leftover from the twenty Wasabi had given him two weeks ago at the mall. 

“Hey Gogo, I’m going to go get a drink, you want anything?” He loudly asked the girl lying under the car.

“Uhhh, a soda would be nice. Maybe some Mr. Pep.” Gogo yelled back at him, never leaving her position or stopping her work. 

“I don’t know if they sell that there, but I’ll ask” and with that he walked away and headed across the street. 

“Just knock on the door and ask Ashley if she has any...” Gogo said distractedly, not noticing that Varian was no longer there. After a moment or two without hearing an answer, Gogo suddenly rolled out from underneath the vehicle. 

“Wait.” She said to no one in particular as she stared up at the sky and began to put together what had just happened.

---------------------------

Varian squinted his eyes as he walked into the dark pub. The establishment was empty save for the barkeep at the other end wiping down the counter. This surprised Varian. In his world a place like this would be packed at this time of day, filled with field workers and sheepherders stopping to take their mid-day break. Practically his whole village would be gathered at the local tavern to eat, drink, and share gossip before going back to work. Varian had figured it would be even more crowded here given the larger city and the heat of day. 

He shrugged his shoulders. Oh well, maybe the food here wasn’t all that good. Didn’t matter, all he wanted was a drink. He walked over to the bar. 

“Hi, do you sell any, what was it she asked for,” Varian waved hello at the man on the other side and then cupped his chin in thought as he tried to recall what it was Gogo had wanted. “Pep?” He finished.

The large man didn’t answer him back, only to wordlessly reach under the counter and pull out a can of the soda and set it down. 

“Oh, yes, that’s it. Also I’ll have your darkest ale, please.” 

“I.D.” The man said deadpan. 

“Excuse me?” Varian asked, not sure what the man was requesting. 

“I need to see your officially licensed identification.” The man explained tiredly, as if he had to recite this often. 

“Uh, I have my student I.D. if that’s what you want.” Varian said, confused, as his hand went back into his pocket to dig out his wallet and money.   

The big man gave a heavy sigh and pointed to a sign placed in front of the cash register. ‘In Accordance to Federal Law all Patrons must be 21 or older to purchase alcohol and must show valid I.D.’ It read.

“You need a government issued license or passport, kid.” The barkeep said with annoyance, clearly believing Varian was there to try and pull some scam.

Varian, however, could only stare at the sign in bewilderment, still frozen in place with his hand in his pocket. His mouth hung open in astonishment as he tried to process what was going on. The amount of reliance on forms and identification in this world was odd enough but now there were laws against beer? That was practically all anyone drunk in his world. Coffee, tea, and cocoa were expensive and meant as a treat, and the only drinking water to be had were from the community wells, the river being brackish that close to the sea, and you still had to take time to draw the water. Which you didn’t want to do every time you were thirsty. And while this world did have running water, less expensive hot beverages, and that sugary soda in abundance; he still couldn’t figure out why that would be the cause for preventing anyone from buying an ale, let alone people under such an arbitrary age. 

“But… but why?” He whined in confusion. 

Just then Gogo burst through the door, stormed to up to the front counter, and before Varian could complain to her about this dumb rule, she grabbed him by the ear and proceeded to drag him back outside.

---------------------------

It wasn’t until they had made it back across the street did Gogo relinquish her grip on Varian. 

“What were you thinking!” She whirled on him angrily.

Varian only stood there and looked at her, still befuddled and ruefully rubbing his ear where she had pinched it.  

“You’re only sixteen!” She yelled, as if this was the most obvious explanation for her righteous anger.  

“So? You’re only eighteen.” He retorted back. As if she had any right to berate him in such a manner when she was only two years older. 

“I’m an adult,” She explained. “But that’s not the point. You’re a child. You don’t need to be drinking or trying to trick bartenders that you’re older.”

“I’m not a child!” Varian responded, properly angry now himself. “What makes you any different?” 

“I can hold down a job, pay rent, buy groceries, I can vote.” She began to list off what she thought were requirements for adulthood. 

“Sooo can you drink?” Varian interrupted as he pointed back to the bar. 

“Well, no.” She admitted, temporarily tripped up by that question. However, the smug look on Varian’s face renewed her annoyance with him. “You can’t even buy a hamburger without someone’s help.” 

“Just because I’m new to this world, doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself.” He said, deeply offended by that last remark. 

“Oh really, and when’s the last time you had to buy your own food, or clothes, or live on your own?” She asked skeptically.

“I’ve been on my own since I was fourteen!” He snapped. 

Then just as suddenly he stiffened with surprise, he hadn’t meant for that to come out. Both he and Gogo stared at each other, herself equally in shock by his revelation. He quickly turned his head away, bit his lower lip, and stuck his hands in his pockets. He just stood there awkwardly unwilling to look her in the eyes.

For Gogo’s part, she felt her heart drop the moment he had said it. What did he mean ‘on his own’? Who’d leave a fourteen year old to fend for themselves? Didn’t he say he had a dad? But before she could ask for some clarity, Varian spoke again. 

“Look, I’m sorry,” He said defensively, “I didn’t know about the alcohol rule. It won’t happen again.” He put his hands up in defeat and then walked away from her and the conversion. Making his way back to the car, he picked up a wrench and began to tighten a socket. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing but anything to keep himself busy and to avoid any more uncomfortable arguments. 

Gogo watched him with increasing worry. She wanted to know more, to help him, but she could tell from his stance and his behavior that he wasn’t willing to talk about it. She knew all about avoiding feelings and bottling up one’s problems. Not that long ago she had been a moody teenager who shoved people away, too. Heck, she still was a moody teenager that shoved people away. Though she had gotten better since she started college. It was amazing how much difference only two years could make. 

Before she had met Tadashi and her other friends, she had been a pretty lonely person. Constantly bullied in grade school and struggling with depression, she was considered the weird emo kid that always sat quietly in the back of the class. However, no matter how bad things had gotten, no matter how many fights she got into at school, nor now many times she cried into her pillow at night, she had always, always had her dad to turn to. Even now she still relied on the man, rushing to him to bare her soul when Tadashi had died, unable to bring herself to talk to anyone else about her recent loss. 

Who did Varian have? She wondered. If his father wasn’t there for him, then who did he turn to for help? Why had he even been left alone? 

Her thoughts were broken when Varian let out a yelp of pain. He had burned his hand on the hot metal and proceeded to stick his fingers in his mouth to suck on the injured digits, still not looking at her, embarrassed by his clumsiness.   

She let out a weary sigh. He was a mess. But so was she, and she didn't know how best to reach him. What would dad do? She thought. Try to get her to open up about a subject that she did enjoy or distract her with a project, she decided. 

"Sooo, Wasabi tells me you want to learn how to drive." Gogo said, changing the subject while she slowly made her way over to stand next to him. 

"Yeah." Varian agreed quietly, keeping his eyes on the engine, still choosing to not look at her. "But because I just moved here I wouldn't be able to get my license for another six months. I'm not sure I'll still be here by then." And with that he ducked back under the hood. 

This didn't sound encouraging to Gogo. If he truly was on his own then what was he going back for? But she knew bringing her doubts up would only push him away further. 

"Well, if you are still here in six months, you'll need a car to drive around in." She suggested instead. 

This grabbed Varian's attention and he finally stopped to look back at her. "Whatd'ya mean?"

"Well it's just, if you want to still learn how cars work, then perhaps we can build one, together. That way if Wasabi helps you get your license then you'll have your own vehicle to ride in." She continued slowly.

"You… you mean it?" Varian hopefully asked. 

"Sure, we can work on it in our free time." She said encouragingly. 

"Yeah? Yeah! That... that’d be great. I'd really like that." Varian agreed. 

He smiled appreciatively at Gogo and she returned it in kind. 

"Of course the first thing you'll need to learn is what socket you need to tighten or not." She gently teased, pointing to the socket he had busied himself with for the past few minutes to no avail. 

"Oh, right." He laughed in embarrassment and finally stopped trying to use the wrench. 

"Here, let me show you how to check the oil." She said and thus the day passed without further incident, just the two of them laughing and bonding over cars.

[that-fannerd-with-the-glasses]

Huhh so, here’s some general characterization/fun fact things for Incredibles AU!! I usually don’t post this kinda stuff but since I’m still working on chapter three, figured I might as well! 

Phoenix (36), Mr. Incredible/Bob Parr counterpart

Superpower is super strength

Superhero name is Captain Indestructible.

 Didn’t really start to realize his powers until late in high school, though he didn’t actually begin superhero work until he was in college. Mia was one of his professors and she ended up eventually catching on to his abilities and offered to be his mentor (as she’s also a super). They worked as a team together up until the point Mia was killed in a severe incident, from that point on Phoenix ended up working alone. He did end up taking Maya  under his wing since she was supposed to train with Mia before she died, though she eventually branched out on her own as well.

Was an art major, and had plans of mainly working from home as a freelance artist. 

He really does try to be a good dad, okay, and he fucking loves his kids. It’s not his fault that every job the government’s placed him sucks the life and willpower out of him. He studied art dammit, being stuck at a desk job selling insurance was his worst nightmare come true.

Was in peak shape during his hero days, but years of being hunched over at a desk and little to no exercise--not to mention poor eating habits ended up developing into a soft dad bod that he’s a tad insecure about.

Meets up with Maya once or twice during the week, they usually end up getting burgers and reminiscing about the old days together.

Tried so hard to forget about hero work and live a normal steady life with his family, but that’s easier said than done. His entire den at home is decorated with all sorts of posters and articles and lately, he’s been spending just a bit too much time in it.

He’s already blown cover on their family twice, and he’s so torn between wanting to stay put and wanting to resume hero work.

Miles (36), Elastigirl/Helen Parr counterpart

Superpower is elasticity. 

Superhero name is Flexuous. 

Has been dealing with his powers pretty much since childhood. After his parents died, he was taken in by Manfred Von Karma and trained to be his prodigy. 

He ended up breaking away from Von Karma’s teachings sometime later and tried to do hero work on his own, his first instance of this being when he and Phoenix met for the first time. For a while they actually were rivals, before becoming friends and eventually dating, and were far too amused by the media’s obsession with their supposed rivalry.

Was studying to obtain a law degree and had hopes of becoming a lawyer, but when the lawsuits started happening and superheros were all uprooted, he ended up having to abandon any hopes of having any sort of high profile career. 

Sometimes works as a legal mediator just to make a bit of extra money/put his law knowledge to good use. 

He is the true backbone of the Edgeworth-Wright household. It would be in shambles if he weren’t in charge of it, as hair pulling as such a task is. For some years he and Phoenix co-parented without a problem, but with middle age starting to settle and Phoenix delving into a midlife crisis, he’s more or less been having to manage things on his own.

Phoenix and Miles -

They formally met through a foreign language course they were both taking, though officially had actually met several times under their super personas. It didn’t take long for either of them to figure each other’s identities out, however.

By the media’s standards, Captain Indestructible and Flexuous were rivals to one another, which up until a point was true. When they started dating, however, the rivalry all became a pretense just for the public’s entertainment. Though that wasn’t to say their butting heads and bickering outside of their super suits wasn’t all real, because it very much was. 

They dated for about two years before they were engaged, but their wedding had to be put on hold due to all the lawsuits and Super-related scandals going on. 

Miles pretty much planned his and Phoenix’s wedding up to a T, which didn’t matter in the end since they couldn’t afford the venue they’d wanted. They tried to wait a while, so they could save up enough money but that didn’t work out, and thus they decided to just go ahead and have a small private ceremony at the local courthouse. 

Phoenix knows Miles will never admit it, but he’s heartbroken that they didn’t get to have the wedding they wanted, especially after all the effort he put into it. That and the venue they’d booked was where his parents had gotten married, it’d meant so much to him to have their wedding there and they didn’t get to do that. 

They made the promise to each other that someday, when they were more financially stable, that they’d renew their vows and have the ceremony they’d always wanted, however that’s easier said than done when you’re trying to pay off bills and raise three kids.

Adopted Apollo two years into their marriage, then Athena a few years after that, and just recently have adopted Trucy. 

Apollo (14), Violet Parr counterpart

Superpower is invisibility/force fields.

The oldest child of the Edgeworth-Wright family. 

Has a crush on Klavier, who’s one of the more popular students in school because of course he is.  

Struggles with having to keep his powers a secret, which in-turn causes a great deal of self doubt.

Enjoys classic literature and music. 

Is stressed 24/7. His family is weird and he just wants to be normal, please help him. 

Athena (10), Dash Parr counterpart

Superpower is super speed.

The middle child of the Edgeworth-Wright family.

Her biological mother was also a super, who was killed by an ex-villain. Something similar happened to Miles when he was young, so of course he was all for adopting her. 

She has way too much energy for her own good, and has trouble focusing on one thing at a time. Her parents have tried time and time again to find a proper outlet for her to take her energy out on, but nothing’s worked so far and has only resulted in multiple visits to the principal’s office.

She wants so badly to play sports and has begged her parents time and time again to let her try out for one of the teams, though this usually ends in disagreement. Miles will put his foot down over the fear of her having an unfair advantage due to her powers, while Phoenix wants nothing more than to let her go ahead and do it. 

She very much loves and cares for her siblings, even if she does tend to pick on Apollo sometimes. 

Trucy (11 months old), Jack Jack Parr counterpart

Superpower is transformation, but the rest of her family doesn’t know this yet shhhh. 

The youngest child of the Edgeworth-Wright family.

She was an urgent emergency adoption, as well as being a closed one, so not much is known about her birth family. 

Maya (30), Frozone/Lucius Best counterpart

Superpower is telepathy/telekinesis.

Every woman in her family ended up developing these sorts of powers one way or another, so when hers started to get out of control she confided in Mia and was promised help in the matter. When she did finally arrive in the city though, Mia was dead so Phoenix took over the whole mentor thing, even if admittedly he wasn’t very good at it.

Despite everything, with Phoenix knowing next to nothing about Maya’s sort of power, he really tried his best to be of help to her and they ended up becoming close friends, even when she went off to do hero work on her own. 

After the superhero relocation program went into effect, she started work as a medium as a low key means of using her powers without giving herself away. She now owns her own small “mystic elements” type of shop where she does palm readings and the like, though nothing too drastic since a full display of her powers would give her away and have her relocated. 

Has never once been relocated come to think of it, and Phoenix is kind of jealous. It helps that she can be more subdued about her powers, while he doesn’t really have that option. 

Pearl lives with her and works in the shop as well. She ran away from home several years ago after a fight with her mother and Maya’s been looking after her ever since.

Is the cool, eccentric aunt to Phoenix and Miles’ kids. She or Pearl are their go-to whenever they need a babysitter (since they can’t actually afford one lmao). 

Franziska (33), Edna Mode counterpart

Has no superpowers. 

Works in the fashion industry, used to be responsible for a lot of super’s suits before the whole lawsuits and relocation shit went down.

The adoptive sister of Miles, who at one point was incredibly resentful towards him due to their father paying him more attention than her due to his having powers. They’ve both made peace since then, on the account that their father sucks.

Before Phoenix had met her, he was wearing his own homemade suit which she absolutely tore to shreds upon seeing. Ever since that day, he’s been low key terrified of her. 

Is essentially that wealthy lesbian aunt who likes to show off around Christmas and dump expensive presents on her nieces and nephew. 

Travels around a lot due to her job, so she’s not around often.

Dick Gumshoe (45), Rick Dicker counterpart

Has no superpowers.

Works with the whole Agency that regulates supers and what not, personally made sure that he’d be both Phoenix and Miles’ assigned case worker since he’d already known them a while.

Is doing his best in a crappy situation. Personally if you asked him, he’d be fine with supers coming out of their forced retirement but he’s not able to do much about it in his position. Regardless, he’s still a valued family friend and the kids love it when he visits.

Is married to Maggey Byrde because its what he deserves. 

Dahlia Hawthorne (32), Syndrome counterpart

Has no superpowers so to speak, but instead relies on technology invented by her family’s company.

She and Phoenix crossed paths during a supers convention, where she tried to convince him to train her as well, going on and on about how she wanted to be a hero too. But seeing as she didn’t actually have powers and wasn’t a hero herself, he turned her down.

The first attempt wasn’t the last, as she tried time and time again to get his attention and get her to train him, and each time he would refuse. He admired her efforts but the fact was, she was a civilian and even with her technology, she could be seriously hurt. 

Inadvertently foiled his attempts to sabotage a villain that ended up causing a railway explosion. She was arrested afterwards for interference with hero work, and Phoenix didn’t see her again for a long time.

Took Phoenix’s rejection very personally, and holds her public humiliation towards her arrest as his fault. 

Moved away to the island after she got out of jail and spent the next several years building up a brand new company from the ground up as part of her revenge plot. 

Iris Hawthorne (32), Mirage counterpart

Has no superpowers.

Is the twin sister of Dahlia.

She took on many of the company responsibilities until Dahlia was released from jail, then was forced into being her assistant for the new company. 

[bangtan-gal]

Ruin Me (M)

H.hj

Mafia!au

Warnings: smut, angst, not really much fluff, pain kink, corruption kink, dom!hyunjin, sub!reader Mentions of death, drugs (not much), somebody gets burned by a cigar oops 

Word Count: 2.6k

Garrapata.

    The corridor was crepuscular and damp; the walls were made of a rough stone and the few light bulbs cast an orange hue and flickered in and out of existence. You leaned up against the rock, struggling to light a cigarette. You finally managed to connect the flame with the tobacco and watched as the white roll sparked to life. Puffs of smoke curled around you as you picked at your nails. 

Tocado.

Five cigarettes later, there was finally a sign of someone else. A bright white flashlight ran along the walls and you raised a hand to your eyes as it shone over you. You dropped the blunt—barely a third of it gone—and crushed it under your heel. Your brother, Baekhyun, approached you silently with two younger men following behind him. His hair, just recently dyed a sandy blonde, looked like a flame as the light bounced off it. 

His brow raised as he glanced down at the six butts that littered around your feet. He met your bored stare again and then let out a snort. You ignored him as you glanced past to the men with him. One was just barely taller than your brother, his dark brown hair parted down the side. The other was around the same height, his hair a gleaming red. 

“I didn’t know you smoked,” he commented, nose wrinkling at the smell that clung to you. 

You shrugged. “I didn’t know that you were a gang leader until a couple months ago.”

Mentiroso.

    The tall man’s eyebrow raised and his lips quirked into a smirk. He was gorgeous, even in this dim lighting. You could see the outline of a cross that hung from his ear and the sparkles of many other piercings. He wasn’t buff—more tall and lean—but the outline of a gun that hid under his shirt was enough to have you shivering. 

You and your brother didn’t share anymore words as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and guided you down tunnel. You silently counted every time your boot splashed into a puddle or when a drop of frigid water fell onto you. Baekhyun had refused to meet you outside in broad daylight. He’d given you an address, where you met a fake taxi and were driven to this nasty tunnel. You were instructed to take seven hundred medium steps into tunnel and then wait for your brother. 

His cautiousness wasn’t the old sibling you remember. Baekhyun used to be the reckless one; dragging you out at midnight, jumping off cliffs, and getting in fights with anyone that looked at him or you too long. Seeing this side of him was so odd: he was always expected to get into trouble, but this kind of trouble? This trouble where you couldn’t be stupid and had to actually stop and think? Last thing you’d expect.

Demasiado diferente. 

After he graduated from college, you never saw him again. Your father had died when you were six and he was fourteen. Your mother developed lung cancer eight years later and died just a couple months ago. You weren’t sad: you were never close with either of your parents. The most shocking thing of this whole event was your brother willingly taking you under his wing so you could go to college and get a degree. 

Your feet started to ache tremendously as you neared the end of the tunnel. It was dark outside, a complete contrast to the sunshine you’d seen when you entered this hell hole. A sleek, silver BMW waited for the four of you. A man, wearing a low baseball cap, sat in the driver’s seat. Baekhyun sat in the passenger seat and as you slid into the backseat, you found yourself between the two men. Red hair was silent as he laid his head against the window and you noticed a scar that ran through his eyebrow. 

It was Mr. Blacky that was giving you trouble. His hand rested on your thigh, the cold metal of his rings felt even through your jeans. He was looking out the window, pretending like he wasn’t two inches away from your core, but you could see the small smirk. Frustration roiled through you and you couldn’t tell if it was pure or sexual. 

“Is there a reason I had to come live with you, dear brother?” You piped up, shifting your legs so that Mr. Blacky’s hand fell away. “I mean, mom and dad’s house was paid off, couldn’t I just stay there and you pay for college? I love living in that big, scary house all alone.”

Of course you were biting at him. You were glad he allowed you to live with him, but you yearned for answers. Where had he been all these  years? He didn’t even show up at mom’s funeral and didn’t contact you until two months after her death. You’d been alone for all those months. In that huge-ass, dark, creaky house. 

Muy solitario. 

There were probably ghosts that were waiting to feed on your soul.

Baekhyun didn’t give you the honor of his response.

“I was neomu lonely, Bak,” you grumbled, playing with the string bracelet on your wrist. You heard him shift, his expensive-ass leather jacket squeaking against the custom leather seats. 

“Did you keep up with your Korean lessons?” He asked, slowly shifting the subject.

You frowned. “No. I dropped it and took Spanish.”

Silencio. 

“I’ll have you know that I actually got an award on my spanish. Top of my class. My spanish teacher gave a speech at my graduation. I can speak it fluently. I could probably move to Spain or Mexico—never come back,” you rambled. Baekhyun always hated your ranting and how you had this weird ability to go on and on about the most stupid shit. He deserved thirty hours worth of pointless rambling. “I’ve actually been thinking of taking French. Maybe I could become a professional translator; wouldn’t that be cool? I could travel the world, talk to the locals—OOOO I could run, like, a travel critic blog. Muy bien!” 

You clapped your hands.

“You didn’t mention how fucking annoying she was,” Baseball Cap spoke up. His voice was deep and gravelly.

“This is her way of taking her anger out on me.”

You felt like a scolded child as you sat there. That was the one thing you’d always hated about your brother: his ability to make you shut up with some simple statement. He knew you too well, he knew exactly what got under your skin. He knew how to make you feel stupid or childish and as the years went by, he only got better at it. 

And so, you went silent for the rest of the ride.

☁☁☁☁☁☁

It took you less than a week to learn the rules of the house. Baekhyun told everyone what to do and they all listened. It was rough, nearly impossible for you, your inner self always begging to challenge him. But Baekhyun made it clear he wouldn’t treat you any differently just because the same blood pumps through your hearts. You learned that when he dragged you to a windowless room and let you sit there all night without any dinner.

    You also had to sit through the embarrassing “Off Limits” meeting. It was an hour long talk where Baekhyun repeatedly reminded his men and women that you were untouchable. If anyone so dare as look at you for more than a second, their heads would be ripped off and guts shoveled into a meat grinder. You never agreed to it, but here you were, alone and untouched.

Que divertido.

    You poked at your dinner, staring boredly at the wall. Baekhyun was gone, along with almost everybody, so you were left alone with Mr. Blacky. In other words: Hwang-fucking-gorgeous-Hyunjin. The boy with his stupid teasing smiles, little smirks, and eyebrow raises would not leave you alone. He was older than you by barely a month, but you’d never guess by the way he held himself like the king of the world.

He was a more handsome, younger version of Baekhyun.

And it sucked. 

    If you had known the Baekhyun was trying to turn his men into multiple versions of himself, you would’ve thrown yourself out a window. Hell, you would’ve flipped off the mysterious mailman who delivered the letter you got two weeks ago. This wasn’t fun, this was suburban. 

“So, you’re the royal babysitter?” You asked, looking up at Hyunjin. He sat on the counter, scrolling through his phone and not sparing you a single glance as he answered.

“Sure.”

“You’re barely older than me,” you pouted, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

    He held up the pack of cigarettes he had confiscated from you not even five minutes ago. You watched, your mouth watering, as he shook the packet at you. There was the other rule: no smoking. Or at least not for Y/N or around Y/N. Everyone else constantly smelled like weed and tobacco, but you would never see the drugs again in your life.

“Didn’t you try to leave last time you were alone?”

He spoke about the event as if it wasn’t yesterday. 

“I’m the leader’s younger sister! Don’t you think I deserve some form of special treatment?” You cried, shoving your plate away from you. The boy looked up, watching as the china skittered to the other side of the table before peacefully stopping.

Maldita. 

    You stood up, letting the chair clatter around the shiny tiles. Your feet stomped against the floor as you marched towards the boy. A slap ran through the room as you slammed your hands down on his knees, eyes narrowing as you looked up at him. You leaned forward until your faces were mere inches apart.

“I’m not a child.”

“Then why do you act like one?”

    Then he smiled, and there was something about it that was so wrong and so right at the same time. It was sadistic and perfect. Ice shards and fire blazed through your body as a craze lit up his eyes. He tilted his head at you, his hand coming up to run along your cheek and then over your brow bone. 

“You say you want special privileges?” He hummed. His thumb moved down and ran along your lips. Your mouth slowly opened, an ache starting in your core as he slipped the digit in. His knees tightened around your body and he brought your mouth to his.

    You weren’t sure what you were expecting. The taste of weed and addiction? Something bitter? Instead, he tasted like smarties and you could feel his chapped lips pressed against yours. He gripped your chin tightly in his hand as he easily slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your straightened up, moaning into his mouth as his other hand came up to tighten around your throat. 

    He pulled back for barely a second, inhaling sharply before his lips crashed onto yours again. You whimpered, letting your hands slide up his legs and rest on his upper thighs. Your thumbs rubbed circles on his inner thigh and you didn’t miss the way he bucked up into your touch. Hyunjin nipped teasingly at your lips and then pulled back.

    His mouth moved achingly slow along your jaw and then he moved to your ear. Pain laced through your body and pleasure ran to your core as he teeth dug into the upper part of the shell. The soft moan you let out pulled one from him and his grip tightened on your neck. 

“You know,” he whispered into your ear, “you act like such a big, bad girl, but I bet you’ve never had a true taste of danger, hmmm? Do you want it? How badly baby?”

    You panted, eyes slowly meeting his dilated ones as he pulled back and stared at you. It took only one fluid movement for him to hop off the counter, spin you around, and bend you over the marble. Gasps and whimpers of excitement started to leave you. 

Placer y dolor. 

    You felt Hyunjin’s bulge press against your thigh as he ran his hand down your spine. Tingles raced through you and shivered in anticipation. The boy’s desperation bled through as he reached for your yoga pants. He pulled them down quickly, taking your panties with it. He ran his index finger down your folds and then a soft chuckle left him.

“I bet you’re tight too, baby,” he mused. You listen to the sound of him unbuckling his jeans and the sound of them hitting the floor. There’s the soft sound of skin rubbing against skin as he pumps himself out. You lean forward, eyes closing. 

    Hyunjin completely sinks into you in one go. A loud groan escapes you—he stretches you out painfully and deliciously and it’s addicting. His forehead rests against your back and there’s a few moments where he just silently gasps. Then he starts moving.

His thrusts are rough. His fingers dig into your thighs as he hitches you up even higher. Your gasps and his grunts fill the room as his hips smack against your ass. You’re soaked; slurping noises filling the room because of your pussy. His cock continues to hit your g-spot repeatedly and your eyes start to roll into the back of your head.

“Fuck, I could ruin you,” he gasps out, “and no one would ever know. Shit, baby, shit.”

Arruinarme. 

“Just as tight as I thought.”

Arruinarme.

    You felt your high approaching and you unconsciously clenched around him, silently begging for him to finish with  you. And then just as you’re there, just as you feel the beginning of the flashes, he pulled out. You hold still, too shocked to whine or look back. 

Then you hear the all time familiar sound.

Tsssst. 

    You peeked over your shoulder, eyes widening as you watch him light a cigarette. Hyunjin meets your gaze and grins, something broken and psychotic hanging in the depths of his orbs. You watch as he takes a slow puff and then presses a kiss to your neck, the smoke filling the air around the two of you. 

Arruinarme. 

“You can take it baby, whether you want to or not,” he said. 

    Part of you knows what he’s about to do, but the hazy part of your brain refuses to keep up. Then you feel it, a quick jump of pain. You hissed, your head falling against your forearms as the cigarette is pressed to your thigh. You smell it—it’s so subtle, but it’s there—the smell of your own flesh, burning. He pulls it back and you stiffen as you prepare yourself for the next tap. He presses it to your other thigh and this time you let out a loud whimper. Pleasure comes with the pinch this time and your eyes flutter shut. 

“Such a whore, aren’t you?” He laughs.

Then he throws the blunt in the sink and sheaths himself inside you again. His pace picks up, almost as if he never stopped. It barely takes a few seconds for you to finish, your fingers digging into the counter as you tighten around him. Hyunjin grunts and he thrusts harshly through his own orgasm. His seed spills into you and down your legs as he continues to fuck it into you. 

Arruinarme. 

Then he pulls back, letting you breathe. You do, taking in big gulps of air, your legs shaking, and eyes fluttering shut. He lights another cigarette and hands it to you. You accept graciously, puffing on it. The smoke fills the kitchen as the boy helps you back into your pants and then pulls up his own. He runs a hand through his dark hair and then winks at you.

A swirl of smoke surrounds your head as he walks out. 

You hum to yourself.

“Arruinarme.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #280

“this is the place in our mind with a crooked crown / we came to execute its own perfect shutdown”

Do you have a strong local accent? No. Do you prefer green or red grapes? Red, but either is fine so long as they’re crisp. Can you stand on your hands unassisted? pffff Who was the last person to knock/ring at your door? Pizza guy. How old were you when you last went trick or treating? No idea. Have you ever been bobbing for apples? ”No. That’s a gross game lol you’re dipping your head and mouth into water other people are dipping their head and mouth into.” <<<< This. What’s your most expensive piece of clothing? No clue. What’s the last thing you took a picture of? Guys I actually took a selfie bc for once in my goddamn life, I felt really pretty with the makeup Summer did on me. She's working towards a degree in cosmetology and is so talented with it. What’s the last thing you drew a picture of? A meerkat pup. Have you ever been on a pogo stick? Omg, yes. I got one for I think Christmas one year as a kid and I got SO into it. I learned how to do it really well. Can you down a pint (of anything) in one? Probably not without throwing up. Have you ever been banned from a public place? No. Have you ever been in a newspaper? A couple times, I think. I know once in elementary school for when I was in chorus; we went somewhere for a small Christmas show. Then I believe I was in it for another school thing? Idr. What football team do you support? I don’t care for football or sports in general. What did you want to be when you grew up? My phases included paleontologist, vet, movie director, author, game designer, aaaand I know I’m forgetting one. But my current and long-term goal has been to become a photographer. Being an artist as a free time “job” has always been an aspiration, too. Have you ever tie-dyed your own clothes? In school, yeah. How often do you buy new clothes? Very rarely. Usually just around Christmas or my birthday from gift cards I get. Are you reliable? In some ways yes, in other ways no. Are you proud of yourself? No. If you could ask your future self one question what would it be? If she’s ended up happy. Do you hold grudges? Nah. Do you decorate the outside of your house for Christmas? Mom does pretty much last minute, but only sometimes when looking at the past few years. Can you solve sudoku puzzles? Sure, they’re fun. What’s the most unusual conversation you've ever had? Who knows. Are you much of a gambler? Not at all. I don’t fuck around with money, especially when just $5 makes you feel great. Have you ever been to Disneyland? I’ve been to Disney World. Do you sing in the shower? Very rarely. Almost never now that I don’t play music while I’m in there. As a child did you ever suck your thumb or fingers? I mean probably? I do know I loved my pacifier and was SO upset when Mom’s doctor or someone playfully told me I was gonna have to give it up because my upcoming baby sister would want to steal it, and guess what? Nicole never fucking used a pacifier so I was tilted lmao. What time do you usually go to bed? Lol BRO it can be as early as 7 PM on bad depression days to as late as like, 2-3 AM. I’d say the average time is like… 9:30. What's your favorite animal? MEERKATS hngggggggggggggggg Have you ever been in marching band? No. Do you have any enemies? No? At least I don’t consider anyone to be. Have you ever been a cheerleader? As a kid, Mom wanted me to so I could do something with my sisters, who were actually interested in cheerleading. She certainly didn’t force me to or anything, I just agreed to it despite not being into it. We were with this Christian sports group for a long time doing various sports all the while being taught lessons in Christlikeness. I’ve actually got warm memories of it Did you ever date anyone on the football team? No. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? No, not that I’m against the idea tho. The plushy would just have to be very special to me and also comfortable to hold. How many consecutive days have you ever missed of school? I missed an entire week when I learned about Mom’s cancer. I could barely function. With how much school stressed me, I would NOT have managed. Have you ever been pregnant? No, not in my to-do list. When was the last time you wanted to speak out, but couldn’t? I’m sure it was recently over Facebook; most times, I keep my mouth shut over political things on there that might get me fired up because I’m afraid of confrontation. Are fingerless gloves awesome? I love them. Wore them daily in high school. I still have some of my favorites, though I’m doubtful they still fit my hands… Would you rather be cannibalistic or die in the wilderness? Okay so I’m gonna actually go kinda in-detail, so the squeamish be warned. Realistically, I think I’d choose to die. ESPECIALLY if I was the one expected to kill another person; then, there’s no question. I wouldn’t be able to do it either if I knew the person. If it was some stranger someone else killed and cooked, I don’t know with absolute certainty; starvation really can make animals out of people. I do know for sure I’d vomit. I far more heavily lean into still preferring to die, because I just believe some things aren’t worth living after they’ve been committed. I’d hate myself. I’d rather die feeling clean of conscience. Would you survive on a deserted island? Hell no. Have you dyed your hair eccentric colors in the past? Yeah, I want to do it far more often… What size drink do you usually get at fast food restaurants? Medium, sometimes small. What do you think is the best thing in life? Love, both platonic and romantic. Have you ever sold anything online either on Craigslist, eBay, Amazon, etc.? If not, what is your website of choice like any of the above for buying things? We sold our previous dog over Craigslist, and I sold my iguana there as well. I know Mom has used eBay and Amazon, but idk for what. Have you ever seen an animal give birth? Have you ever had a pet give birth before? I’ve seen old pet cats give birth many times. What is something you want to try to accomplish within the next year? I want a job that I’m content with and can mentally handle. Oh, and I REALLY want to make strong progress on recovering from the muscle atrophy in my legs. What’s the most unusual kind of pizza you’ve ever tried? I have no clue; I’m not that adventurous with pizza or food in general. If you were given the chance to decorate an entire house the way you wanted, with no limit to cost, how would you decorate it? GOTHIC AS A MOTHERFUCKER WELCOME TO THE GOTDAMN ADDAMS FAMILY. What’s one of your favorite things to touch/feel? My cat. :’) How often do you wear tights? Ew, never. Has there ever been anything you’ve become interested in much later than other people? I guess Instagram, but only as a viewer. I don’t have a personal one, just for my photography that I only rarely post. Have you ever had a veggie burger? Yeah, during my vegetarian streak. Burger King’s really aren’t that bad so long as the patty is made well. Do you like candles? Yeah, sure. When was the last time you wore a sports bra? Forever ago when I was doing Wii Fit. Where did you get the shirt you’re currently wearing? I think Hot Topic? It’s an oversized Umbreon shirt. Who last messaged you on Facebook? My friend Summer when we were planning our lil witch photoshoot w/ friends. Who last walked you home? lol you don’t just have someone “walk you home” here. Bundles of homes are way too far and in-between for reasonable walking distance. Did you make any new friends lately? If so, what are their names and how did you meet them? Not really recently, no. Would you rather see your favorite band/artist in concert with 2 other people or have a free $20,000 shopping spree to Walmart? Seeing Ozzy with my mom would be a DREAM, but to be realistic, I’d take the shopping spree pretty damn quickly. $20k? That would do WONDERS for us, especially as we’re about to move into a new place. When was the last time you threw up and why did you? A long time ago when I started a new medication. Do you want revenge on the person who has hurt you the most? … I’m gonna be REAL honest. For the most part, no. But ngl there are times I’m like “I’m gonna work on getting back in shape and become H O T” like a petty bitch lmao this is embarrassing to admit. Has anyone ever claimed that you saved their life? Yes. Did you ever have that near-drowning experience? No. Have you ever performed on stage? For dance, yes, but I never did a solo. Are you a jealous person? Not jealous (usually), but I’ve come to realize I’m a pretty envious piece of shit. Morning person or night person? I’m in my best mood in the morning because I have the “it’s a fresh start” ideology. Then I repeat exactly what I did the day before. :^) Have you ever written a poem for someone? Numerous times. Do you meditate? No, but I wish I could without it only causing more stress. Do you like cranberries that they serve for Thanksgiving? EW I hate cranberries. What don't you understand that frustrates you? Finances. Do you plan on going to college? I’ve tried college three times and dropped out each time. I’m done trying with school. Do you believe the governments hide technology and information from the public? AbsoFUCKINGlutely. Which is your favorite Pokemon? Ninetales! What horror fiction character scares you the most? What’s the name of the villain in the Scream series? Ghostface? I don’t feel like looking it up, but he TERRIFIED me as a kid, and I still think he’s mega creepy. Were you part of the Brownies/Cubs/Scouts/Guides etc? I was in Girl Scouts. Have you ever invented a fairly unique meal or drink? No. Do you have any family secrets? Don’t think so. Do you often read your horoscope? Never. They’re bullshit. Have you ever had a proper Tarot reading? No; also bullshit. Have you ever milked a cow? No. Do you love or hate rollercoasters? They’ve always scared me because I’m afraid of throwing up. Now with how dizzy I get, I absolutely refuse to try one because I WILL faint with all the movement. What’s your favorite sportswear brand? idc Who’s your favorite superhero? Does Deadpool count? Who’s your favorite villain/baddie? If we’re still in the comics/superhero universe, the Joker. Have you ever won a giant-sized cuddly toy from a fair? No. What would you say is your favorite album of all time? Black Rain by Ozzy Osbourne. I fucking adore it; it was my introduction to metal, and still after all this time, every track S L A P S. I deadass played that CD so much that it scratches at a few points. Do you dislike hairy people? lol fuck this question. I’m guessing you’re asking if I find them attractive and not as if people I “dislike” them, but in both cases, it’s no. We’re mammals, who the fuck cares how hairy you are. Do you like your own name? I actually do really like my name. My first one, anyway. Would you ever sign a Prenuptial agreement? NOPE. Want one? You’re gonna have to find someone else willing to, my man. How long has your longest ever phone call been? No less than two hours, but I know more. I have three instances in particular where I talked with either friends or Jason for SO long. Could you ever have an affair with a married person? Hell no. What is your family Christmas like? Nicole comes here so she and I open presents with Mom, then we spend the day at my older sister’s to be with the kids. We also try to squeeze visiting Dad in there the same day, but sometimes it has to be a different one. If you met a genie who offered you three wishes, what would you wish for? (more wishes does not count) Just three is hard… but #1 is indisputably world peace, and then uhhhh the end of poverty and maybe the cure for cancer. I’d have a super hard time picking a third; so many things matter to me. Have you ever had your national flag painted on your face? No, not in my plans. Do you have any strange body things? Well, define “strange,” I guess? Nothing like, really strange. What fairy tale character would you most associate with? Can I be Snow White and attract cute critters like moths to a flame? Also I would 100% take a Good apple. If a loved one was to serenade you, what song would you most like them to sing? It would depend on the person and our bond, really. Is there a cherished song between us? What is our relationship like? There’s no umbrella song I can think of. Is your dad an embarrassing dancer? GUYS!!!!!!!!!!! My sister’s wedding, okay? Father/daughter dance? He actually has MOVES and it was incredible man, never gonna forget that. What if any unusual objects have you swallowed? Nothing, I think. If you were stinking rich, would you only go to places other rich people went? Hell naw, man. There are plenty of great, affordable places in all categories. I could be a millionaire and you’d still see my ass in McDonald’s ordering a burger and fries lmao. Have you ever owned a slinky? My sisters and I had multiple as kids; those were d o p e. Teenage parents, good, bad, or indifferent? An AWFUL idea. A teenager is physically, most likely financially, and mentally unprepared to raise a child properly. It can seriously affect the kid, and of course the parent. What’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever broken? I’m unsure. Pirate downloads, good or bad? It’s bad… yet plenty (myself included) have/do do it. Democracy, good or bad? Good. It’s very important to me that rule should come from the people’s majority versus a small coalition of rich guys. While the majority is not always right, it seems like the best option to me. Communism, good or bad? Okay so to be totally honest I actually don’t entirely understand what communism outlines. Like I just read multiple definitions and small articles and I’m still kinda like “????”, though judging by the countries listed as those governed by communism, I would guess it’s bad? Have you ever been electrocuted? On an electric fence, but it wasn’t too bad. Have you ever been hit on by someone of the same gender? Yeah. The war in Iraq, good or bad? Get the fuck out of it. To start with, I’m a pretty fierce pacifist, and just… killing and killing and killing for YEARS is so goddamn pointless and is just a massacre. The war in Afganistan, good or bad? jfc ^ Have you ever appeared on YouTube? LET’S NEVER TALK ABOUT THIS lmfao Have you ever eaten anything prepared by a celebrity chef? No,, but that’d be dope. Have you ever been on radio? No. Do you prefer male or female singers voices? ”Their gender doesn’t matter, but their talent does.” <<<< Do you have a list of things to do before your ‘x’ years old? Goals should not be judged by age. I’m bad at this and have to remind myself of it a lot. A goal is a goal regardless of a number. Celebrate for *you*. Are you proud, comfortable or ashamed of your body? Very very much ashamed. Do you know html? Super poorly. Have you ever flown first class? lol hunny What are better, violins or pianos? Violins. How old is your oldest blanket? As old as me. My baby blanket is stored somewhere. Do you take enough vacations? lol hell no. I’ve maybe gone on three vacations in my entire life. Have you ever been sick on your birthday? Yup. Then one time I was recovering from a wicked stomach virus but went to Olive Garden anyway lol. I was fine though, and it’s actually a sweet memory because Jason (he worked there at the time) got the staff to do the whole “happy birthday” thing. I got a bombin’ brownie. Who is your favorite person? Sara and my mom. What do you do to stay healthy? lol you assume I’m healthy. What is your favorite form of exercise? Swimming. Do you like going to church? I never did. As a kid, I would cry when/if Mom decided we were going to mass after Sunday school lmao. It’s always been boring and too long to me, even when I was religious. Have you ever fallen asleep during a sermon? Probably as a kid. Do you like to pray for others? No. I don’t believe anyone hears them or will intervene somehow if I ask anyway. Have you ever witnessed a miracle? No. I don’t think I believe in those anyway. Have you ever been the recipient of a miracle? Definitely not. How did you or whoever come up with the name(s) for your pet(s)? I thought “Roman” was a majestic name for a male cat, and Venus has the coloration that the planet does. Who did you last walk a dog with? Sara and I walked Buster the last time I was there. It was windy as SHIT so we didn’t get far because my ass was absolutely freezing, all the while Sara was used to it. Ride bikes with? Wow, good question. I haven’t ridden a bike in many, many years. Hold hands with? My friend Summer did yesterday when she was trying to reassure me of something. For what reason did you last high five someone? Ryder and Aubree each caught Pokemon in Pokemon GO. :’’’’) I was watching them in the car while my sister/their mom was doing something at work, and they wanted to play it; they’ve come to learn that between my phone and DS, I’m the Pokemon provider, lol. I was the proudest fucking aunt ever bc they did SO GOOD after getting the hang of throwing the ball like Y’ALL. When Ash came back to the car, I gave ‘em each high fives before getting back in. What color and type is your vehicle? Don’t have my own car. Looking to upgrade or add any time soon? I doubt I’ll have my own soon. What animal do you have the most possessions *of*, or featuring? Like, décor or stuffed animals, things like that? Not the actual living creature? Easily meerkats, holy shit do I have a collection. What do you use to wash your dishes? Gain soap. Last thing you measured? Uhhh idk. Last thing you weighed? Myself. Last song you danced to? *shrug* What do you remember from your dream last night? I just remember it was a nightmare about Dad being angry. How old were you when you got your first credit card? Lol I don’t have one. Do you talk to your parent(s) [almost] every day? Mom, yes. Dad, no, because we don’t live together. What does your shampoo and conditioner smell like? I just started using a Dove brand shampoo targeting dandruff, so I don’t think it has a specific smell. I don’t use conditioner, just adds grease to your hair, plus mine is short anyway. Last person to tell you that you smell good? Idk. Last person you told that they smell good? I also don’t know. If you smoke marijuana, what is your preferred or typical method? I’ve never touched it. Last person you ran into unexpectedly? Ummm idr. How many plants can you see right now? There’re none in my room. Last compliment you received on your appearance? HA On your character/personality? That I was a loving sister. Do you remain friends with anyone you met at your first job? N/A Who have you hugged in the past month? My mom, Summer, sisters, niece and nephew, Dad… Newest musical discovery? 3TEETH is great. Like, I'm obsessed. Their cover of “Pumped Up Kicks” snagged my attention, despite actually being iffy about it at first. Guess what I’m listening to this minute lmao. Last thing you cleaned? A cup. What exactly do you carry around all your stuff in? A purse. What do you carry around, typically? Phone, keys, wallet, hand sanitizer, and my iPod are items of note. Where is your newest scar? It’s on the palm of my left hand from Roman playing with me. Where is your oldest scar? Idk. Last thing you disposed of? The milk carton. What was the last picture someone sent you? Mom sent me a gif from Hocus Pocus to fit the witch photoshoot Summer, her friend, and I did. Did you hear a siren today? No. What do you typically drink? I would rather not pretend I tend to drink soda lmao Last bad news you heard? My aunt’s brother committed suicide a couple days ago. Last good news you heard? I don’t really know. How far away is the closest cinema from your house? It’s like, 15-ish minutes away. Have you ever been to the emergency room? Many times. Are you one of those people who can’t go without their morning coffee? Y’all know me and coffee. But in place, I have my morning Mountain Dew, rip in fucking pieces. Have you ever worn fake eyelashes? No, though I’m honestly curious what I’d look like. Do you know the story of how your parents met? If so, tell me? They were coworkers; that’s all I know. What is your favorite Chinese food? I love pork fried rice. Do you live far from your parents? I live with my Mom. I live around 20 minutes or so away from Dad. What was the last hot food you ate? I’m assuming you mean spicy as opposed to just hot as in temperature. In that case, probably hot wings. Have you ever seen a meteor shower? No. Describe your current position: I’m lying down in bed, just kinda perked up by my two pillows. Have you used a microwave today? Yes; I had a Jimmy Dean breakfast bowl. Do you prefer going out for coffee or brewing your own? N/A Have you consumed caffeine today? If so, in what form? yikes- Do you know anyone who follows a raw vegan diet and lifestyle? Not that I know of. Have you killed a bug this week? Yes; we’re dealing with a lovely mix of gnats and fleas. What was the first food you learned how to cook? Scrambled eggs. Or maybe pancakes with Mom’s assistance. Idr. Do you have a Bachelor’s degree? If so, what in? No. How many email accounts do you have? Two. Can you go see a doctor alone or do you like to take someone with you? I like my mom to be with me. How long is your average shower? 15 minutes, maybe? It depends on the routine I feel like doing. When’s the last time you had a headache? Yesterday. What woke you up this morning? I think I woke up naturally? A rare occasion nowadays. Who was the last person you cried in front of? Summer, yesterday.

[mimymomo]

Love Is War ~ Orphydice

So I came up with this idea after listening to an English cover of the Kaguya-sama Love is War opening (that’s not important to the story at all). Also, I wrote half of this story in the middle of the night so...enjoy!

Eurydice was at battle. A hardened soldier in a losing war. Each day was getting harder and harder to fight, to resist her ever-growing urges to throw down her weapons and give in to temptation. If only the side she was fighting against actually knew they were at war...

“Heads up,” Persephone grinned cheekily, sliding into her seat next to Eurydice’s, “Orpheus is definitely gonna try and ask you out today!”

Eurydice groaned, “again? That’s gotta be the third time this week!” These fruitless attempts were becoming more frequent by the week. “Persephone, I know it’s you who keeps pushing him to do this. You’ve got to stop encouraging him to keep asking.”

Persephone was Eurydice’s closest, and maybe only, friend. She was in her late thirties yet acted like she was no older than twenty-five. Eurydice met Seph in her last class in the fall quarter of her freshman year.

Eurydice was exhausted―four classes a day had been a terrible idea, and by class number four, she was truly feeling it. She shuffled into the classroom at the end of the hall. And immediately, her eye was caught by a lady in a vibrant green dress.

Her wild, curly hair flowed in endless waves. Stray strands of gray hair perfectly contrasted against the brown. Sun-kissed skin shines under the harsh, fluorescent lights. She was older, Eurydice knew as such, but by how many years? Not a clue. It could range from one to twenty; the numbers never blended better. A spotlight shone through the one open window, somehow impeccably highlighting her frame. She looked as if she was a goddess. Eurydice couldn’t help but be drawn to the woman, taking a step to the empty seat next to her. One step, then another and another. Next thing she knew, she was seated in the chair and talking to the woman with an infectious smile and laughing for the first time that day.

Persephone, she had introduced herself. An ex-botany now wine studies major student, she originally enrolled in college years ago but dropped out after one year to marry her high school sweetheart. After a near divorce, she was looking for a new start and believed going back and getting her degree would help do just that.

“Sucks that starting next year I’ll be attending the same school as my baby nephew, but at least I’ll get to lovingly, embarrass him, so there’s a silver lining!”

From that moment on, the two grew extremely close. Eurydice gained a friend she could talk to and trust. Or at least she thought she could trust.

“Well maybe you stop forcing yourself to reject him, then he’ll stop asking you,” the older woman prodded. Eurydice just shook her head; she couldn’t do it, not again, not after every other man before. She had been hurt too many times, bruised and broken beyond repair- no one, not even sweeter than fresh cream Orpheus could fix that.

Orpheus Thrace, second-year and Persephone’s younger nephew? Cousin? She wasn’t exactly sure; there were too many halves and steps and god family relations involved to keep track. Eurydice had been smitten with the boy from the moment she first laid eyes on him. She could remember that day perfectly- walking into her poetry 107 class at the beginning of the fall semester last year. She was already irritated that day due to one, having to take a poetry class when it had nothing to do with her major (economics), two, the only time it was being offered, and it didn’t affect her schedule was at eight am, and three, adding sprinkles on top of the already burnt as shit cake, she had missed her alarm and was running late. So to say she was more than a little aggravated walking into the lecture that morning would’ve been an understatement.

She barged into class, her obvious bed head wild and sticking up and out in every direction, beads of sweat dripping down her forehead. The professor stopped speaking and nearly every head spun towards her direction.

“Well good morning and thank you for arriving fashionably late and gracing us with your presence Ms...”

“Mendoza.”

The elder man scoured over his attendance sheet before giving Eurydice a few quick up and down glances. “Ahh, yes, Ms. Mendoza,” he said slowly. “In the future, plan to show up on time for these lectures. Now, take a seat.”

Eurydice rolled her eyes at her professor’s belittlement and slunk over to the first open seat she could find- an aisle seat near the back of the room. Throwing herself into the seat, she brought her hands up to her face and sighed. Great start to the year... she thought bitterly.

“Now as I was saying before the...interruption, please take a look at the learning criteria for this course on the bottom of your syllabus,” Professor whatever his name was announced.

“Shit,” Eurydice muttered onto her hands. She didn’t have a syllabus and she definitely wasn’t going to ask for one now and risk yet another callous remark from the old coot.

“Um, excuse me?” a whisper caught her ear.

Eurydice groaned again, turning to the voice, and immediately she felt her breathing hitch. Oh shit, he’s cute.

The first thing she noticed was his eyes- what color were they? Hazelnut brown? Maybe a faded green? Was that a hint of pale blue in there? Whatever they were, they were enchanting. Eurydice felt herself drowning in them, swirling around unwillingly in their pool.

The tips of his straight, dark, brown hair just reached the top of his eyes a soft, hesitant smile painted his pink lips. Oh god, his lips, pretty pink and plump…

Eurydice shook her head, trying to get the picture of this stranger's model lips out her mind, “I’m sorry what did you say?”

The stranger smiled, his teeth were perfectly straight and pearly white, “sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to know if you wanted to share this syllabus with me? Since I knew you came in late and don’t have one.” He adjusted the front of one of his brown leather suspenders. Suspenders, a white shirt, and a...red bandanna? The man had an interesting style, that’s for sure. But Eurydice couldn’t help but be drawn to him despite that.

“Yes, please,” She whispered brightly, “thank you so much.” She flashed him a smile and his cheeks flushed a dusty shade of magenta.

“N-no problem.”

“Now, where are we?”

“Right! Uhh, we’re right,” the boy scooted closer to Eurydice, setting the stack of stoked paper in the center of them. He smelt of something warm, sweet with a hint of musk, like from being surrounded by old books. Was that his cologne or just his natural scent? Eurydice felt heart flutter in her chest, what the heck? “Right here,” the boy pointed at a stray bullet point midway down the page.

Eurydice spent the remainder of the fifty minutes struggling to pay attention to the monotonous voice of her professor or keep track of the never-ending words on the page, while her attention seemed to travel elsewhere. On a certain someone to be more precise.

By the time the bell tolled, Eurydice was spent. The cute stranger was packing up his things and slinging a...guitar? Over his shoulder. Had that always been there? I wonder if he’s good? Shit, I think he’s talking to you! Quit spacing out!

“I’m sorry?” Eurydice said, shaking her head trying to turn her attention the bandana banded boy.

He smiled a nervous smile, “I was just wondering if you would like to go get something to drink with me?”

“Ain’t it a bit early to be drinking?”

“Oh, oh no,” he scrambled, waving his hands in a cute, semi-frantic gesture. “I meant like go get tea or something. The student cafe isn’t too far from here I think. And I don’t have my next class until three pm.”

This boy...just giving away such personal information to someone he just met. Sure, she didn’t have another class until noon but that didn’t mean she wanted to spend her free time with some eccentric stranger she only met an hour earlier. Even if he was undeniably attractive. Eurydice smirked, doing her best to keep up her blasé appearance. “I’m more of a coffee person myself.”

“I’m sure they have coffee as well,” he assured. “My aunt who goes here said the scones are to die for.” His aunt? Eurydice paid no mind.

“I don’t even know your name,” she countered. She didn’t know why she was fighting so hard, or even giving his random man her attention, but there was just...something about him she could resist.

The man gave her the biggest, dopey smile, damn, no person should ever be allowed to be that cute. “I’m Orpheus.”

Orpheus. Orpheus. Orpheus, she repeated in her head.

“Hello Orpheus,” she loved the way his name rolled off her tongue, sweet like honeysuckle and molasses.

And against her better judgment, she replied, “I’m Eurydice.”

The two made their way out the double doors, and down the cement paths to the student cafe in the center of campus. They passed towering buildings and pushed through the bustling crowd of manic students coming in every direction. As they walked over a small bridge, Eurydice glanced at the tall willow trees that veiled over the river that ran throughout the campus. Colorful leaves floating on top of the dark water.

By the time they walked into the cafe, most students had left for class leaving the place nearly deserted. The two ordered their drinks - one tea and one caramel macchiato with an extra espresso shot - then sat in large, cushioned chairs near an electric fireplace.

They sat and chatted about everything and nothing. Where they’re from (both grew up locally but on different sides of the city- Orpheus on the east side, Eurydice on the west), what grades and majors they were (Orpheus: first-year music. Eurydice: second-year economics), and before they knew it, hours had passed.

In the middle of a heated chat over what Beatles album was superior (the White Album obviously), Orpheus’ phone began to buzz on the table. He picked the cell up and began typing away, his nimble fingers tap-tapping on the tiny keys. “Sorry,” he said placing the screen face down, “my aunt was texting me. Asked how my first class was.”

“You have a nice aunt,” Eurydice remarked, head in hand, elbow on the tabletop.

“She’s something,” Orpheus sighed, his smile slightly waning. “But I love her.”

Eurydice felt something twinge in her chest. Listening to stories of Orpheus and his loving family stung just the tiniest bit. She’d had enough time over the years to come to terms with her complicated family drama but it didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt sometimes.

“She said she wanted to stop by and check on me, face to face, I hope you don’t mind,” Orpheus groaned, his face scrunching up like an embarrassed child’s.

Eurydice shrugged, “‘course not.”

At that moment the jingle from the door could be heard and a familiar voice rang through the cafe walls: “Orpheus!”

“Lady Persephone,” Orpheus grinned, waving her over to the table.

“Poet, what have I told you about the Lady Persephone crap? I’ve known you since you were in the single digits and your parental guardian is my brother, just call me aunt Seph already.”

“Hey, I still call Mister Hermes, Mister Hermes!” Orpheus whined. “And besides you yelled at me the first time I called you aunt Seph!”

“That was years ago!”

“It was traumatizing!”

“Persephone?” a flabbergasted Eurydice cried out, deriving the attention to her and away from the twos ridiculous argument.

“Songbird! I see you’ve met my nephew Orpheus?”

“Nephew?”

Persephone quickly explained how Orpheus, as a small child, had been adopted by her older half-brother Hermes after his mother left. So, he had terrible parents too? Maybe they were more similar than she once believed.

From that day on, Orpheus joined the twos small friend group. And since that day to the present, Eurydice had been stuck at the ultimate crossroad. It was obvious that Orpheus had a thing for her, subtly was not one of his defining traits. And his constant invitations to go and do various activities with him wasn’t helping hide that fact either. And while Eurydice knew deep, deep down inside (well maybe not too deep), that she felt the same way. But she never could find her able to take that step, to cross that bridge. Each relationship before Orpheus had taken a piece of her, smashed her bridge to broken pieces, even chucked some down the raging stream. It had taken her so many years just to reassemble that bridge to some semblance of its former glory, she couldn’t risk having it damaged once more, especially by someone who came across as caring as Orpheus. His blow would shatter her past restoration.

“Quick here he comes,” Persephone whispered, dragging Eurydice’s attention back to the present, just as Orpheus bounded his way in front of the girl's table.

“H-hello Eurydice,” etched out across his face was a pure, innocent smile. The nerves in Eurydice’s gut fluttered about, batting against her stomach.

“Oh, uh, what do ya want Orpheus?” Eurydice cringed at how harsh her attempt at tonal indifference came out. She knew Orpheus didn’t deserve it, the poor boy too sweet and mirthful for his, and her, own good. But damn, did Eurydice not want to give Persephone the satisfaction of being correct on the status of her intense infatuation with the young musician.

He paid no mind, “I’m playing a gig at Mister Hermes bar in a couple of days, I was just wondering if you’d want to, maybe, come as well? Or maybe just help me practice? I could always use an audience.” Copious amounts of unfiltered hope and adoration bled through every word. Eurydice knew she should be annoyed by Orpheus' persistence, his blatant disregard of her previous refusals and body language. But she couldn’t bring herself to be; she knew the boy was not the quickest when it came to picking up on social cues. Plus Eurydice had a large suspicion that some aunt of his was pushing him to continue his trivial pursuit.

Ahh, so he’s taking a more gentle approach this time? she thought. No longer attempting to sweep her off her feet with bombastic musical performances or bouquets of expensive flowers that all mean love and heavy infatuation. Eurydice refused every offer- big or small- no matter how hard she wanted to agree. Today would be no different.

“Sorry Orpheus,” she said, fiddling with specks of nonexistent dirt under her nails. “I can’t.”

His shoulder sagged and smile all but vanished. Eurydice instantly felt bad for shooting the boy down that quick, but it had to be done, for both their sakes.

“Oh...okay,” his voice gummy and discouraged, like a stepped-on marshmallow.

“Oh give me a break,” Persephone snapped, slapping her hands down against the flat surface. “You can make it to that show, I know it, you know it too. Why are you lying?”

Eurydice felt something boil inside her, a pot left too long on high was now began to simmer over, spilling all its contents for the world to see. “I don’t see how this pertains to you,” she bit back, glaring the older woman down with eyes of steel.

“Well, you’re my friend and you’re lying to a member of my family, I think this does pertain to me,” Persephone said calmly, her carrying a twinge of an edge.

“Well, I’ve told you countless times to stop encouraging all these stupid advances!” Eurydice shouted, not noticing nor caring if she disturbed any passer biers. “I'm never going to say yes no matter how many times you get him to ask, and you of all people should understand that. Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?” Why did Persephone not get that this was hard in her? Why did she not understand that every time she had to turn down Orpheus, another piece of her heart chipped away, drifting downstream until it inevitably sank, never to be seen again? It hurt, it hurt so badly. But she had to do this, she couldn’t lose Orpheus, she couldn’t go through the pain of heartbreak again. She was a lone wolf on the field, she didn’t have time for a partner.

“But-”

“Aunt Seph, it’s fine.” The two turned their attention to the man of their conversation, both having forgotten he was even present. His face was blank, eyes glossy, staring down, off into space. “Eurydice is right. We should stop this.”

“But Orpheus-”

“It’s fine,” he asserted. He shifted the guitar case strap on his back, fingertips white from clutching on so tight. “I’m gonna go, class.” That was a lie. Eurydice knew his schedule like the back of her hand, Orpheus didn’t have another class for another hour, usually joining her and Persephone in a quick run to the student cafe for a fast breakfast. But Eurydice has no energy to correct him. She wanted to scream, to tell him he had the wrong idea, that she felt the same way. But she kept her mouth closed, biting her lip close to breaking the skin. She watched as Orpheus shuffled out the door, head hanging low, carrying himself like a scolded puppy running from the scene of an accident.

“Aunt Seph.”

“What?” Eurydice said blankly.

“He called me Aunt Seph,” Persephone scoffed. Eurydice felt something crawl in her stomach when Seph brought this significant word change to her attention. To many, saying ‘aunt’ and not ‘lady’ was no big deal, but to them, it meant everything.

The two sat in deafening silence until Eurydice tore away and all but sprinted out the door.

…

A few days after the disastrous incident, Eurydice found her racing through the crowded streets to a familiar bar. Hermes.

When she arrived, Hermes directed her upstairs to his and Orpheus’ living quarters where Seph was supposedly waiting. She raced up the stairs and down to the second door on the left: Seph’s guest bedroom.

“Songbird!” Persephone smiled, swinging the door wide open.

“Seph,” Eurydice yelled, charging in past the older woman. “What’s the emergency?” Eurydice was stewing alone in her apartment, trying and failing not to think about the young musician whom she guarded her heart against when she received a confusing text from the lady of spring telling her to get here quick.

She had been too worried about Persephone’s cryptic message to even consider the implications of standing in the home of the man whose heart she just recently broke. But Persephone looked...fine? Giddy even. What was happening here? “Seph, what’s going on here? I thought there was an emergency?”

“Oh, there is,” she grinned and Eurydice felt a chill travel up her spine. She didn’t like that smile, a hint of glimmering mischievous shining through the cracks. “Come on, the problems down the hall.”

Persephone guided her down the hall to a wooden door lit by the hall lights, a room Eurydice had never ventured through. “I lost an important paper for Hades when I was staying here and now I can’t find it. That brother of mine said he might’ve moved some stuff in here.”

“You called me here, thinking it was some huge emergency, just to help you look for some paper?” Eurydice gaped.

Persephone gave a quick nod, “like I said it’s an important document. And I figured two bodies would find it faster than one.”

“Did it not come across your brain that I could’ve been busy?”

Persephone pulled out a key and began to twist the lock, “if you were that busy, you wouldn’t have been here this quick. I know you’ve been holed up in your room think about that boy.”

Eurydice folded her arms, “you're the one who caused all this. I was fine keeping my distance but you kept pushing him to ask me out.”

Persephone unlocked the door, yanking out the key, “yeah, yeah, songbird, but think of this as me trying to fix things.”

“What do you mean, trying to fix-” Persephone sharply jerked the door open, light flooding in the dark. And there in the darkness, kneeled on the floor was a tall, skinny figure Eurydice instantly recognized.

“Orpheus?”

The young man tilted his head up, slowly standing, “Eurydice…?”

Suddenly, Eurydice felt a forceful shove on her back and she tumbled into the closet, falling into Orpheus’ arms. Slam! Then it was dark.

“Persephone!” Eurydice screamed, breaking away from Orpheus. She turned the knob- locked. She banged on what she hoped was the door. “What the hell? Let us out!”

“No can do Songbird,” she chirped through the other side of the wooden door. “You two need to handle whatever’s going on between you.”

“Seph,” Eurydice grumbled lowly, irritation seeping through her tone. Hard as the strongest steel, sharper than a razor blade. “Let me out NOW!”

“I told you Eurydice, I’m not letting you out until you and Poet figure out that relationship of yours. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Hades and I have a date. The counselor said it’d be good for us. ‘Bonding’ or some craziness like that. See you two in a few hours!” And with that, the two young adults listened to the sound of their freedom step down and out of the hall.

Eurydice continued to bang on the door, yelling for someone, anyone to come and answer her pleads, to come and open the door. She reached in her pants pocket, hoping she could use her cell to call Mr. Hermes to let them out. Nothing. She checked the other, then the backs, all empty. She must have left it back in her room.

“Great, just great!” Eurydice wallowed, slumping to the carpeted ground. She tucked her knees to her chest, “I can’t believe she locked me in here-”

“With me?”

Eurydice whipped her head in the direction of Orpheus’ voice. Even in the dark, his shadowy figure was easy to pick out- hunched over, fingers tugging at the loose ends of the old carpet. “What?”

Orpheus scoffed, “I’m sorry. I know you’d probably want to be anywhere else besides being stuck in a stuffy closet with me, the loser who apparently can’t take no for an answer. Who, even after being rejected, again and again, is still helplessly in love with you.” Orpheus sniffled, and Eurydice watched as he wiped cascading tears off his cheeks. “I told Lady Persephone that you didn’t feel the same, but just kept telling me to keep trying, that I was wrong, that I had a chance. And like a fool- I believed her. I kept trying, even though in my heart I knew the truth. I knew I stood no chance of winning your heart. You’re too good for me,” he gave her a wet, smile, eyes shut tight and throat clogged from holding back sobs. “But I still tried. And I ruined it.”

Eurydice felt her tears began to spring in her eyes as well, clawing at the back of her throat. Pricking needles on her tongue, “Orpheus-”

“I ruined it.” He wasn’t listening. “I ruined everything. Now, you don’t even want to be in the same room as me. I’m sorry Eurydice. I’m to blame for all this.”

“You’re wrong,” Eurydice sobbed, cutting the manic boy’s lament short. She shook her head, “you’re wrong. This isn’t your fault.”

“Eurydice,” Orpheus whispered half-heartedly.

“No,” Eurydice bawled, rising to her knees, dragging them over to Orpheus. She took his hands in her own, squeezing them, “you did nothing wrong. You, you were right all along.”

With a deep breath, Eurydice felt her battle armor slowly start to peel off, falling to the dirty, trodden ground. She was raising her white flag, why was she still trying to convince herself that fighting this exhausting battle was worth it? Why was so certain that she didn’t deserve love? Happiness? Him? She was done. Screw it, if this bomb blew up in her face, she’ll gladly accept the blow. This feeling and this man in front of her were worth the risk.

“I love you.”

Orpheus gasped, eyes so bugged out they looked as if they’d fall right out of their sockets. Eurydice wanted to laugh at his expression, but she couldn’t. She needed to focus. “I love you. Orpheus, I love you,” Eurydice sobbed, gripping the front of his shirt. “I have for a long time now. I was just too scared to admit that, to you, to Persephone, to myself...I’ve been hurt by so many people, more times than I can count. I just, I just-”

Orpheus wrapped his arms snuggly around Eurydice’s shoulders, holding her close as she cried, body wracked with wet heaves. He held her and held her and held her, running his hands up and down her back, letting every single salty tear spill.

When she finally calmed down, she pulled no more than an inch away. Orpheus places his forehead on hers, burning hot. They sat there quietly, just taking the other in.

“Is it true?” Eurydice stared into his eyes, a sliver of hope piercing through, “what you said, is it true? That you, that you love me?”

Eurydice cupped the sides of his face, fingers brushing against bristly, unshaven stubble. Her heart pounding- ba thump, ba thump, ba thump. With a nod, she gave him a warm smile, “it’s true. I do.”

A large grin overtook Orpheus’ face, “I love you too, Eurydice!”

Pink in the face from embarrassing excitement, Eurydice released a shaky breath, “I know Orpheus, you've told me plenty of times.”

“And I’ll tell you dozens more,” he chirped, a song of love filling his heart and head. He brought her in for a serried hug, their heartbeats thumping in a synchronized rhythm. Maybe laying down her weapons wasn’t sure a terrible decision in the end?

Then a horrifying thought popped into her head, “shoot.”

“What’s wrong?” Orpheus shot back panicked, had Eurydice already changed her mind?

“I just realized, Seph's never gonna let this go! Her being right, that is! She’s gonna tease us to high heaven once we pop outta this closet and she learns we’re dating…”

“Wait, we’re dating?” Orpheus asked gobsmacked.

Eurydice tensed, “o-oh, did you not want to? I just assumed-”

“No, no, no! I do!” He yelled. He couldn’t let her think about that reality, and he definitely couldn’t let her speak it into existence.

Eurydice smiled, “okay then. Now all that’s left is to seal the deal.”

“Seal the deal?” Orpheus asked voiced laced with confusion.

Eurydice nodded her head. With her eyes still locked with the taller boy’s and a sultry smile, she brought the tip of her pointer finger up to her lips and gave them a few quick taps. Even in the dark, Eurydice could tell Orpheus was blushing. She imagined the shades of pink that shadowed his cheeks and the redden tips of his ears. Due to their proximity, the young girl swore she could feel a warm heat radiating from the boy’s face.

“O-oohh...I see,” Orpheus stuttered, breaking his eyes away from Eurydice’s fervent stare.

She giggled at his nervousness and placed her hands gently to his cheeks, rubbing the pads of her thumbs over smooth skin. She had dreamed about this moment for over a year. Now, she finally had her chance, she wasn’t going to waste it. “I mean, they did lock us in here. We might as well take advantage of it.” And before he could reply, Eurydice closed her eyes, stood to the very tips of her toes and surged forward, pulling Orpheus’ head down slightly down in the process.

So hot, was Eurydice’s first thought as the two’s lips met. His lips- soft, hot, scalding even. After a few, too short, seconds passed, she pulled away. “Shit, I’m sorry. Was that okay...?”

Orpheus swiftly nodded his head. “Oh Gods, yes,” he whispered before swooping down and recapturing her his with his. Love and eagerness bleeding through his lips.

Eurydice placed her arms around Orpheus’s neck and ran her fingers through his brown locks, while he snuggly wrapped his around her waist. They stayed that way for a while then Eurydice had a sneaky idea. She brought one of her hands down and placed it at the hem of Orpheus’ shirt; glacially slipping her fingers under the fabric the teeniest bit, running them over a smooth patch of pale skin causing Orpheus to jump at the feeling.

“Is this okay?” Eurydice asked a fraction of a centimeter away, not wanting to separate their lips. Orpheus left out a huff and a fast nod, his eyes glossy and lips just starting to get puffy.

Eurydice smiled and brought their lips back together. “You know you can touch me too,” she teased through their kisses and continued with her touch; her feather-light strokes reaching farther, getting longer. She could feel Orpheus reach out to do the same but stopping just as he grazed her shirt. Sensing his hesitance Eurydice pulled her hand out and grabbed hold of Orpheus’, giving the long fingers, calloused from strenuous guitar practices, a few good squeezes, and rubs, before bringing it behind her back and up her shirt. She gasped at the sensation of delicate fingertips circling her lower back and sides, then up and down gently over the dip of her spine. Damn, this was getting much more intimate than she ever imagined it would.

Orpheus pulled back breathing heavy, swollen red lips wet and puffy, “that okay?”

Eurydice nodded, eyes glazed over, desperate to feel his touch again. She reeled him once more and continued their tango.

She doesn’t know how long they spend interlocked in the closet but she can’t bring herself to care. They shared searing kisses all over their mouths, necks, and throats, tongues battling for dominance. Frantic yet exquisite touches over and under clothes, nibbles on ears and collarbones and heavy breathing filled the room. A fiery ball of heat and jitters burned in the pit of Eurydice’s stomach. Months of longing, intense internal turmoil, and tiptoeing around feelings now poured out through their every action. The feeling coursed through her body, affecting every nerve and every sense until Orpheus and his lips, his touch, his scent, was all she could think of. Orpheus. Orpheus. Orpheus.

Suddenly, a long creak rang out and a blinding light shone in their faces. Both young adults pulled back from their make out and squinted, shielding their eyes from the onslaught of brightness before them.

“Well, what do we have here?” the voice snickered. They immediately recognized the saccharine, sing-songy tone. The same voice that they heard from the other side of the door just hours? Minutes? However long ago: Persephone.

Another voice sighed. With squinted eyes, Eurydice peeked back into the light and saw three shadowy figures- one an elderly man, the other two still older but not as much. “You wanna tell me why my boy and his girl were locked in the closet?” Hermes asked the room, exasperation oozing out into the air.

“My wife was acting juvenile once again,” Hades impossibly deep voice cut in.

“Shut it Hades!” she blurted hotly at her husband’s disapproval.

Flushed red with embarrassment from being caught in such a compromising position, the two young adults fully broke apart, scooting away to the opposite side on the confined closet. Eurydice felt her heart pounding in her throat as she sputtered about, trying to get some form of an explanation out in the air. “We, I mean, what happened was-”

Persephone laughed, her back bending forward from full-body chuckles, “we know what happened Songbird. You’re faces and necks are enough proof.”

Eurydice glanced over to Orpheus, his hair messily sticking up from where her fingers were threaded. Purple-red bite marks littered his neck and lipstick stains covered his flushed cheeks, lips bright pink and swollen. She placed her hands on her burning cheeks and neck, trying to cover where she was sure similar marks lingered.

Hermes swing the door open further, “you two come on outta there.” Orpheus and Eurydice stood to the feet and awkwardly marched out the closet, still too nervous to engage any form of contact. “Now, you two clean yourselves up, you look like you’re having a wrestling match in there.”

“They basically were…” Persephone muttered under her breath. Eurydice glared at her while Orpheus kept his eyes in every other direction.

Hermes paid his younger sister no attention, “just tidy yourselves up. And you,” he directed his focus to Orpheus, “you start in ten.”

“Oh yeah, your shows tonight,” Eurydice suddenly remembered.

Orpheus gave a quick nod, “will you stay and watch?” A hint of hesitancy detected in his voice.

A small, warm smile tugged at the ends of Eurydice’s mouth, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Orpheus gave her a cheeky grin, all traces of worry had melted away. He reached out and took her hand in his, intertwining his bony fingers with her plump ones.

“Well, we’ll leave you two to get fixed up,” Hermes said. “Come on, now,” he gestured to Hades and Persephone and the two followed him in succession down the winding stairs.

Orpheus and Eurydice headed to Orpheus’ room and straightened out their clothes and fixed their stray hairs. Orpheus tied his bandanna snuggly around his neck, hiding the numerous colorful marks in the process. “Well, I’ll see you downstairs,” Eurydice spoke while brushing down her bangs, turning to the door.

“Wait, hold on a second,” he chimed, lightly pulling her back. He snatched something off his dresser and handed it over to Eurydice: a spare bandanna. “I keep extras,” he shyly smiled, “I thought maybe you’d want something to cover up, you know.” He waved his hand over the area of her neck.

“Ahh, you don’t want people to see all your handy work, Orpheus?” she teased. Orpheus sputtered about, no words besides half-formed fragments and various sounds came tumbling out. Eurydice laughed, kisses his cheek and took the red bandanna from his hands. She folded it and wrapped it nicely around her neck, “there. Now we match.” She glanced at Orpheus, his mouth agape with a star-struck expression glued to his face. This felt intimate in a way neither had realized. Like they were connected, a true pair.

Eurydice took his hand once more and pulled him out the door and headed towards the stairs. She was heading towards a new battle, a fight she once thought she’d never be brave enough to face. But with Orpheus at her partner, maybe this battle would be worth the fight? Who knows, only the future could tell. But she prayed that her future included her dopey musician boyfriend close by her side.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Ten: High Class ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Hiashi, Uchiha Fugaku] [ SasuHina, vulgarity, alcohol ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

She’s always hated gatherings like this. High class shmooze fests of elbow-rubbing and ego-stroking.

No wonder her father loves them.

After all, he’s been on the city council for ten years running, now. There’s no one of importance in this city that he doesn’t know...or at least know of. He keeps tabs on everything, if only because he wants to have a hand in every pot.

Hinata’s not the sort to care about money or power. All she’s ever wanted was a simple, run-of-the-mill life. But Hiashi’s influence and public image meant having to have perfect daughters. And perfect daughters go to private schools and join clubs and run for student council, just like dear ol’ dad.

All she’s ever dreamed about is working in a little floral shop where she can be surrounded by flowers and plants and soil all day long. It doesn’t have to pay well. It doesn’t have to go anywhere. She just wants to pour her heart into her passion.

Why can’t he understand that…?

School, at least, let her join the garden club every Spring. She even took a few horticulture classes. But now that she’s on her way to college this coming Autumn (or...so she’s told), Hiashi is taking a far more commanding role in her education. Business, he advises. Create a career, like he did! Let the money and employment hierarchy take you to great heights!

Psh...yeah right. And become a soul-sucking agent of greed like he is? She’d rather leap off the balcony.

All this she mulls over in silence, standing and hardly listening as Hiashi woos a small gaggle of donors. This particular event is one to help fundraise the local police and other emergency services: firefighters, EMTs, and...whatever else. In all honesty, she hasn’t been paying a lick of attention...because she knows what this all really is. Campaigning, bribing, putting the right people in the right spotlights. It’s not about the fundraiser’s target, it’s about the people who fund it. These do-gooding people putting their money where their mouths are.

...yeah, right. They just want an image boost. They want voters to like them, to like the causes they stand for...all to keep lining their pockets.

“Ah, there he is! One of our men of the hour. Fugaku, how are you?”

Dragging herself from her reverie, Hinata looks up as a group of four people approach. One she knows as the chief of police, Fugaku Uchiha. Someone her father doesn’t always agree with, but does his best to be on good terms with. The police are quintessential, after all. Beside him, all smiles and beauty, is his wife Mikoto. The only genuine person in this room, as far as Hinata is concerned. While this event is catered by those self-serving, she puts on at least one a month that benefits real organizations in their city - not anything politically aligned.

She’s the only reason Hinata has any hope for things like this...and any inclination to follow in one’s footsteps, if they could be hers.

Bringing up the rear are their two sons. The elder by five years, Itachi, is still in college to her knowledge. Admittedly, she doesn’t know his major. They rarely speak beyond the expected pleasant small talk.

The younger, Hinata’s own age, is Sasuke. A bit of am enigma. She knows so little about him, and his cool, aloof attitude means rarely getting any glimpses. The only one he seems to converse with to any real degree at these galas is his brother.

The pair, as far as she knows, are rather close knit.

Rather...unlike the Hyūga sisters. Hanabi isn’t even here.

Giving Hiashi a rugged smile, Fugaku claps him on the back. “Oh, hanging in there. Our city never sleeps, after all...and neither do we.”

“True, very true...but I’m glad you could spare yourself for one night to help herald your cause!”

From there, the two enter a spiel about the police and other city services that - to Hinata’s practiced ear - is so clearly rehearsed it makes her eyes roll as she turns aside. With her father far too absorbed to mind her, she simply excuses herself to get another drink. She’s not yet old enough to have any spirits, but...well, there’s a few plain options to be had. Swiping a soda, she decides to find that balcony she was thinking of earlier.

The summer evening is waning, city lights replacing sun as it sinks behind the horizon. Cool air breezes past her face as she leans against the railing, expression listless. She’d much rather be at home doing...anything else. Maybe trimming some of the potted plants in her room...the sun in her windows the past month or so has seen them explode in size. She might even need to repot some of them soon…

“Hey.”

Startling, she nearly drops her drink of the balcony. “Wh-?!” Heart leaping to her throat, she turns to see...Sasuke? What is he doing out here…?

“Out for some fresh air?”

...he’s just...talking to her. Why? They’ve hardly ever spoken. “I...y-yes, I...I guess so.”

“Was it that...or sparing your ears from the bullshit?”

She blanches a moment at the foul language. “...I beg your pardon?”

“C’mon, I know you could tell. I’ve seen your face at enough of these to know...especially when you think no one’s looking. You hate these things almost as much as I do.”

Still a bit tense, Hinata tries to reestablish her posture. “...they’re not my favorite things, no...great in concept. T-terrible in execution.”

“Glad someone agrees. My brother always just tells me I’m being overdramatic. That it’s just how things work. Like I was born yesterday. Cops’re supposed to uphold the law, and protect their citizenry. Not…” A hand gestures back behind them. “...this. Sitting all pretty and obedient like a dog for anyone that’ll throw money their way like a bone. I hate it…”

“...my father’s the same way. It’s all about money, appearances, i-influence…” Why is she telling him this? “...I just want to have a nice, calm little job...a little apartment...and mind my own business. Not...anything like this.”

“Exactly! I dunno how these people can stand themselves. Cuz I sure can’t.”

Unbidden, she looses a snort, failing to catch it in a palm. That was rude...but… “I don’t know...but it’s unfortunate.”

“Honestly m’tempted to just...leave. My dad won’t even notice until he realizes one of his props is gone.”

...she...never considered that. Just leave? Could they…? “...how m-mad do you think he’d be?”

“I don’t care. I’m tired of this. Tired of drowning in cologne, and hearing all the boasting, and seeing all these gloating faces.”

Hinata mulls that over. “...did you drive here…?”

“Nah, we all rode in together. Doesn’t mean I can’t take a cab, or just go for a walk.” Sasuke gives her a glance. “...feel like tagging along?”

Teeth nibble her lip, glancing back toward her father. He’s still hamming it up with the rest of the Uchiha. She’s going to get in so much trouble for this… “...okay.”

Doing their best to look nonchalant, the pair move to the elevators, taking one down to ground level. From there, they just...walk.

Of course, Hinata’s wearing two inch heels...not a killer, but not fun to take very far, either. They’re right in the middle of downtown, too. “So...where are we going?”

“Anywhere. Feel like doing anything in particular?”

“Um…” Looking around, a Starbucks catches her eye. “...want some coffee?”

“...eh, sure. Why not?”

The pair are...very overdressed for it, and the stares they get only prove it. But they take a table and just sit.

Sipping her mocha frappe, Hinata watches the street through the window. This is...oddly liberating. She’s still a little nervous - she very rarely dares to defy Hiashi, let alone this directly. But still, this is...nice.

“So...you want to head back eventually, or find a way home?”

“Well...m-maybe leaving entirely would be a bit...much.”

Nursing his own drink, Sasuke hums. “...suppose you have a point. We’ll chill here a while, then head back.”

Silence stretches for a moment. “...did you - did you really notice my face, earlier? I mean, my being annoyed?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sasuke replies bluntly, giving a snort. “Not gonna lie, watching you react every time we’re both at one of these things is the one entertainment I find.”

Her cheeks puff. “...glad to know I’m a joke.”

“Nah, not a joke. Just funny. At least you react. I’m so dead inside, I just stand there with a blank look all night.”

It’s Hinata’s turn to snort. “...that’s fair.”

For a time, the pair just...sit and chat. Nothing elaborate or meaningful. Just smalltalk. But it still makes her feel like she can understand him a bit better.

“Well...I think we’d better head back. Auction’s due to start in fifteen. They’ll definitely notice by then.”

“Yeah…” Finished with her drink, Hinata follows as they walk back toward the hosting hotel. “...that was...fun.”

“Wasn’t too bad. Definitely not the worst coffee date I’ve been on.”

Hinata jolts. “D...date?”

“Kinda was, wasn’t it?”

Well...maybe it was. She doesn’t refute it.

“Maybe we can have another sometime without all this hanging over us, huh?”

Is...is he asking her on a date? “...I, um...sure…?”

“Cool.”

...well that was easy.

They ascend back up, finding the party just as they left it. Their fathers have separated, but neither seem aggravated...yet.

“Well, see y’around, Hinata.”

“Yeah, um...you too. Did you…?”

“Hm?”

“Did you want my - my number? For the...for the, uh, date?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Taking down her digits, he gives a mock salute. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“...okay.” A bit...taken aback, she rejoins her father.

“Ah, there you are.”

“Sorry...went for some air.”

“That’s fine - the auction is about to being. Ready?”

“...mhm.”

                                                        .oOo.

     Another late night, blegh.      Just some modern shenanigans. I think I did one...a bit similar to this. It's getting a bit hard to remember at this point, but...hopefully no one recalls or minds xD      But uh...yeah. It's veeery late, so I'm gonna head off for the night. Thanks for reading!

[cherryyharryy]

Chapter 4: Vertebra   

 It drives you crazy, getting old

The sky was a beautiful shade of blue without a cloud in sight. The grass was freshly cut and the flowers were starting to bloom, decorating the walkways of each house Harry and Adeline passed by.

The windows were down and the sun was generous, grazing their faces with the perfect amount of warmth, not too hot, just enough to warrant the air conditioner and for Harry to ditch the jacket he’d brought.

He pushed the sunglasses further up his nose which had gained a few extra freckles, as did his slightly burnt cheeks and the tops of his shoulders, which had grown considerably since he finally put his New Year’s resolution into play and had been spending three mornings a week at the gym.

“It’s this left, up here.” Adeline slipped her hand into his over the console, flicking her eyes to his ridiculous jaw busy with a piece of gum.

“Stop starin’, love, you’ll make me blush.”

“Wasn’t staring.” She swatted his arm, and she definitely did not admire the way his smirk carved out his dimple or the way a vein in his neck swelled. “Couldn’t tell if you were blushing or not anyway. That’s a nasty burn.”

“Doesn’t hurt.” His hand left hers to tap at his rosy cheeks. “It’ll be gone soon. I’ll be a bronze god before summer even gets here.”

“Well before you golden up you need to slap some spf on that, especially since you’re gonna be in the sun all day, don’t wanna make it worse.”

“It’ll be fine, Addy. S���just a little burn.”

“Alright,” she mused. “It’s that house, the brick one with the oak tree in the yard.”

“You mean the one with a million balloons on the mailbox and a hundred cars parked out front?”

“Oh shut up.”

“Well I wouldn’t wanna miss it, now would I?”

“Just park the car, smart mouth. And help me get the present out of the trunk.”

***

Chatter and children laughing, the crackle of ice being stirred in a pitcher of lemonade and the high pitched barks of Daisy, the chihuahua, running around greeted Adeline and Harry when they stepped through the door. The house was full of family that she hadn’t seen since the holidays and plenty of people she’s never seen before.

“Which one’s your cousin?” Harry asked.

“Uuum, Grace is over there.” Adeline nodded towards a little girl in a soft purple dress. “Guess we should say happy birthday, huh?”

She adjusted the present in her arms, and only managed one step before Harry was yanking her back by the shoulder as a handful of kids ran by.

“If we can make it to the backyard before this tea set gets destroyed it’ll be a miracle,” he chuckled.

“Adeline!”

Adeline shoved the gift into Harry’s arms and ran to her sister, throwing her arms around her look-alike with a squeal. They latched onto each other like glue, only pulling apart when Brianne started to speak.

“Mom and dad driving you crazy?”

“They’re working on it,” Adeline chuckled. “And doing a fine job.”

“Well graduation’s around the corner. You’ll be free as a bird before you know it.”

Adeline looked over her shoulder, lips parting to call out Harry’s name but her voice was lost as soon as her sister pulled her back, resembling their mother more than ever with her brows scrunched in concern and her lips tight in a line.

“So what schools did you get into?” Brianne asked, holding her sister at arm’s length. “And you’re doing a double major, right? Oh, and you looked into internships I’m sure, before you picked a school?”

“Uuuh, well I applied to one and got in, so, that’s that.”

Brianne’s face twisted into a grimace, a disbelieving laugh matching her tone. “What do you mean, one? Addy...you need to make sure the school is a right fit for you and what you want to pursue.”

“I got a couple small scholarships. And my SAT score was good enough, sooo yeah, perfect fit. Plus it’s way too far to commute so I’m moving out in July.”

Brianne shook her head, but before she could continue Adeline beat her to the punch, pulling Harry over by his arm who’d been standing off to the side.

“This is Harry, I told you about him when you visited last month.”

“Hello, Harry, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

Harry nodded, shifting the present in his arms. “Nice to meet you too.”

“So, Addy,” Brianne continued, “What program—”

“Lemme help Harry with this, it’s heavy.” Adeline yanked the gift from his grasp and marched towards the back yard, leaving her sister mid-sentence with Harry following right behind her.

“God this was a mistake,” she groaned, setting their present down by the pile of other wrapped boxes and gift bags. “I should’ve lied and said I had, volunteer work or something.”

“You’ve never volunteered.”

“Well I should’ve started. Like today.”

Harry pulled her into his side and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Just ‘cause you don’t have your whole life planned out like she did doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s not even—she just, did...everything,” Adeline complained, throwing her arms up and letting them fall against her with a slap. “Dual enrollment, paid internship, graduated early, got engaged, got promoted. S’fucking annoying.”

“Heeey, watch it there’s kids here.”

“Don’t remind me. Just how I wanna spend my Saturday, standing out in the heat for a seven year old’s birthday party.”

“We’ll have fun. There’s cake.”

Adeline sighed and shook her head, looking up at Harry with her hand cupped over her eyes to shield the sun from her view.

“You need sunscreen.”

***

Harry was eating his words. Neither of them had any fun whatsoever in the two hours they’d been at this party. The only attention they were getting were demands of their future plans, spitting out answers to the same questions over and over again.

“What schools are you going to?

“Are you gonna study abroad?”

“You’re not just getting an undergraduate’s degree are you?”

They were currently camped out on the swing set, doing their best to hide without being obvious, each with a juice box and sour attitude, watching the twenty or so kids chase each other around the yard.

“She didn’t like it.” Harry sucked the last drop of his juice and flattened the box with his grip. “I mean she actually said she didn’t like it. Who does that?”

“‘Least she was honest.”

“Who cares about honesty? D’you see the look on her face? Might as well of given her a bag of rocks as a present, would’ve gotten the same reaction.”

Adeline shrugged her shoulders. She kept her head down, engrossed with the grass she was pushing up with the toe of her shoes. “Her parents got her a phone. Can’t compete with that.”

“And that’s another thing—who the hell gives a seven year old a phone?”

Adeline sighed and reached over to tug on his sleeve, gaining his attention away from the crumpled box in his hands.

“In other news, I’ve had about fifteen people grill me about school.”

“Yeah I know. Apparently journalism isn’t a ‘wise career choice’,” he mocked. “If one more person tells me to major in advertising I’m gonna explode.”

“Did you tell them how successful your mom is?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” he grumbled. “And the fact that my mom created her very own local magazine means jack shit to these people. Or that it’s what I want to do.” He thrust his finger against his chest.

She hummed in response, kicking up a patch of dirt she’d been working on with a dandelion now uprooted. “Well I had my aunt very generously berate me on us wanting to go to the same school together.” Adeline straightened up and turned towards Harry, lifting her nose in the air as her voice came out in a whine to imitate her aunt. “Addy, dear, you don’t need to be concerned with that boy. It’s better if he goes to a different school so you won’t have to see him after you break up.”

“Oh so now we’re breaking up?”

“Yep. And I should pick a major right now. Like right. fucking. now,” she grit.”

Harry looked over with an amused smile on his face, reaching over to link his hand with hers. “You okay there?”

Her eyes were big, and he knew what was coming before she even opened her mouth. “What if you don’t get into Peru? You’ve already been waitlisted on all the surrounding schools. The only other one left is basically on the other side of the state.”

He swallowed with a nod, no sense in trying to argue with her reason when he knew she was right. “If I only get into Chadron...then I only get into Chadron. If we wanna make it work then we will.”

“I want to.”

“I do too, love.” His thumb skimmed over her knuckles and he gave her hand a squeeze, forcing his own worries about being so far apart out of his mind. “Right now I’m just hoping I get into college. Those rejection letters suck.”

“You will,” she assured. “And—”

“Addy! Harry! We’re cutting the cake!”

They both groaned in unison, prying themselves off the swings and stretching their stiff muscles.

Adeline smoothed over the landscaping she’d done with her shoe, pausing to pick up the little weed to present it to Harry.

“S’kinda like a sunflower.”

He hesitantly took it, brows raising up in disdain. “S’nothing like a sunflower.”

“It’s yellow.”

“Are you two coming!?”

With another shared groan they sulked back towards the house, hands linked together with the dandelion tucked behind Adeline’s ear.

***

After the cake had been cut, which neither had an appetite for any longer, and the backyard was littered with shreds of wrapping paper, Adeline grabbed her purse and nodded towards the door.

“Go start the car, I’m gonna say goodbye to my parents and then we can leave.”

She flew through the house until she finally spotted her mom in the kitchen tying a kid’s shoe.

“Me and Harry are gonna head out. I’ll be home for dinner.”

“Wait!”

Adeline stopped in her escape already halfway out of the room. “What?”

“Can you just watch those three over there?” She nodded towards two little girls and a boy by the back door. “I’m taking Jeremy upstairs to change.”

The boy with now tied shoes smiled up at Adeline, a big pink stain on his shirt that he didn’t seem bothered by.

“Yeah, fine,” she grumbled.

Adeline trudged over to the kids and led them back outside, warning them with empty threats to stay where she could see them. She settled on a patio bench as they played in the yard with a few of the other children.

All was going well until someone called somebody else a mean name, and then a shove brought one of the little boys to the ground.

“Hey!” Adeline jumped up and ran to the crying boy, helping him up and dusting off his clothes. “You okay? Are you hurt?”

His whimpers grew louder until he was nearly screeching, tears pouring from his eyes.

“Hey, you’re alright,” Adeline cooed. “You wanna go inside? Do you want some candy? A popsicle?”

He pulled his hands away from his red eyes and nodded, his cries softening as she carried him in and set him on the counter while she dug through the freezer.”

“Okay, here you go.”

He didn’t waste a second grabbing the dessert from her hands, mumbling a thank you around the treat.

Adeline sighed and leaned back against the fridge, checking the time on her phone and answering Harry’s text asking what was taking her so long.

“I heard screaming is—oh my God!”

A woman with dark hair came barreling towards the little boy, yanking the popsicle from his mouth and pulling him towards her across the counter.

“What!? What’s wrong?” Adeline yelped.

“Did you give this to him?”

“Yeah, he—”

“He’s allergic! Why would you do that?”

Adeline’s eyes shot open as she shook her head, mouth fidgeting around apologies. The woman glared at her, lip curling up as she examined her child.

“You better hope nothing happens to him. What were you thinking? Are you crazy?”

“I—I was just trying to calm him down, he—”

“Leah what happened?” Adeline’s mother rounded the corner, her face twisted with concern.

“Your daughter gave William a red popsicle.”

“Oh, Addy,” her mother winced. “Why would you do that? He’s allergic to red dye.”

“I didn’t know! How was I supposed to know?”

Leah pulled William off the counter and settled him on her hip. “I think I’m gonna take him to the hospital. And Adeline, you’re not to watch my child ever again.”

With that she was gone, a melted popsicle dripping onto the floor and a teary-eyed Adeline left to clean it up.

“Where are the other two? Did you leave them alone?” her mother asked.

Adeline froze as she pulled paper towels off the roll, uttering a quiet yeah. Her mom rolled her eyes and ran outside, yelling at her to clean up the mess.

Once the counter and floor were wiped clean she headed towards the front door, forgoing anymore goodbyes in fear of an impending break down. But as soon as she reached for the door knob Harry came waltzing through, his smile dropping as soon as he saw the first tear slip down her face.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?”

She shook her head, mumbling a quick let’s go as she went around him for the door again.

“Adeline.”

“Can I fucking leave?” She gritted under her breath. “What Brianne?”

“Are you two leaving?”

Adeline looked to Harry and rubbed her eyes. “Yep.”

“Well you could at least say goodbye to Grace. And me.”

“Bye, Bri.” Adeline rolled her eyes. “I’ll call you when I get my life together.”

“Adeline why did you give William a red popsicle?” Her dad appeared beside Harry, his hands shoved in his pockets as he rocked on his heels. “His mom’s really upset.”

“Oh my God! Why can’t anyone understand that it was an accident?”

“He’s allergic, Addy,” her dad continued, “that’s not an accident, that’s a trip to the ER. You could’ve seriously hurt him, you need to be more responsible.”

She rolled her lips in and sucked in a breath, filling up her lungs as much as she could while she counted to ten.

“You need to tell Grace goodbye before you leave,” Brianne chimed in.

“Fine,” she bit.

Adeline grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him through the house and out the backdoor where everyone was standing around. Her eyes skimmed over every kid that darted by, her anger boiling by the second.

“D’you see her?”

Harry shook his head, taking a step back to peer into the house for any sign of Grace. “No not yet. Maybe we—Ahhhhh.”

When Adeline jumped around, Harry was lying on the ground, well, on the long table that he now broke which was bent under his weight, on the ground. The crash itself was spine-tingling, an explosion of something shattering mixed in with his shouts.

“My tea set!” Grace came bounding over, her tiny hands pulling at Harry’s shirt. “Look what you did!”

“M’sorry, I—I fell.” He pulled himself up with Adeline’s help, groaning as she picked out shards of pastel porcelain from his backside.

“You broke it! You did it on purpose!”

“I did not,” he grumbled, frowning down at the child who had a scowl on her face. “I slipped. Was an accident.”

Right on cue Grace’s mother stepped out of the house, rushing over to her sobbing child to assure her they would buy her a new tea set. She looked up at Harry with her brows pulled in. “Harry, dear, you need to be more careful. Both of you, really. You’re older and you need to set the example, stop acting so crazy.”

Adeline bit her tongue. Example for what? If it was possible there’d be steam piping out of her ears and fire shooting out of her mouth. She held back a bundle of words, and instead of furthering her embarrassment she tugged on Harry’s sleeve and headed back inside.

Silently they both made it outside and back into his car, where they both slumped in their seats. After a few minutes of stewing in peace Harry started the car, flipping the visor down to block out the setting sun.

“Well that was eventful,” Adeline groaned once they pulled out of the neighborhood.

“They expect you to have your whole entire life planned out, but then God forbid you make a mistake, you’re treated like a child. S’crazy.”

Adeline shook her head in understanding. She dazed off at the scenery passing by, deciding to do herself a favor and push today as far into the back of her mind as she could. Her eyes started to get heavy, and before she fell asleep with her head against the window she slipped the little dandelion out from behind her ear.

She twirled it in her fingers a few times before turning to Harry and sliding the flower behind his own ear, running her hand down his jaw and grazing her thumb over his cheek.

“Ah,” he flinched, pushing her hand down. “M’burnt, don’t touch me.”

[instakpop]

Chanyeol scenario-The decision (3/3)

The guilty pleasure | The ultimatum | The decision

Genre: ANGST, smut, forbidden love

Warnings: fingering, breast appreciation

Previously:  What do I choose? Love or Money?

My mind was lost in a world of pros and cons. A few moments passed and I gave up. My whole body slumped onto the bed and I sighed in frustration. How is it possible that loving someone for who they are can derail the life you've been leading since birth

"Why do you have to be so perfect?" I asked Chanyeol. "You don't deserve some spoiled princess turned disaster like me. You should be with someone worth your time that gives you what you really need." My tears built up in my eyes and my throat started to tense up.

"You're right." He said. "I usually go for the kind of girl who lives on the edge and takes risks. Girls who love music and fight for what they want. Literally and figuratively."

I broke into a smile, but he sat up on the bed and continued. "But I've already found the ultimate risk-taker. A girl who loves music so much that she snuck out to see my band play. Of all people, she chose me." He looked down at me wiping my tears and smiled. "You have something amazing inside of you that I can't quite put my finger on, which makes me want you even more. Whether you stay here or come with me, I'll still love you, Y/n."

I sat up with him and kissed his warm, pink lips. For the first time ever, I had to decide for myself. My eyes lit up as the thought popped into my head. myself. I have to do something for myself."I want to go with you." I cupped his cheeks and straddled his hips. "I'll run away with you."

"Are you sure?" He asked. "If you need to sleep on it, I can stay at my place."

"No." I coiled myself around him and he laughed at my sudden hyperactive clinginess. "I can't sleep well without you anyway. It'd be pointless. I want you."

He kissed my temple, but I turned my head to kiss his lips instead. I could feel him getting harder between my legs and I got wetter by the second. Grinding down on him, I moaned against his lip.

I lifted his hands to my breasts and begged him to touch me. He squeezed my breasts, making me throw my head back with a slow moan. He pulled off my top to get a better look at my heaving chest and smirked.

"Take off your bra."

"Why?" I asked innocently.

"I'll show you better than I’ll tell you."

I quickly gave in and threw it across the room. He shuddered with a weak breath that tickled the tender skin of my breasts, forcing my sensitive nipples to harden and my core to dampen. He opened his mouth, letting his soft tongue lick the delicate bud before taking it into his mouth with a gentle suck. His teeth lightly scrapped it while he let go and move onto the other, equally hardened nipple.

My whimpers and moans got louder when he had me fall back onto my bed and his fingers found their way inside my jeans. I opened my legs a bit more which Chanyeol took as an invitation to thrust his fingers into my tight heat without warning. His thumb worked my swollen clit, moving in circular motions while his luscious lips sucked on my nipples, leaving my mouth free to call out his name.

"Chanyeol!"

He pulled away, getting up on his knees and unbuttoned my pants to pull them down my legs. He did the same to his own jeans and handed me the common to put it on for him. I looked him dead in the eye while rolling the latex down his rock-hard shaft.

In two seconds, Chanyeol nearly ripped his top off of himself, popping a few buttons on the way down, moved my panties to the side, pushed me further onto the bed, ready to be taken. With one slow thrust, he entered my throbbing center as his lips met mine once more. I held him close, feeling every inch of his hot skin, his strong muscles flexing above me, his steady breaths on the side of my nose.

I grinded our hips together while his plump lips fit perfectly on mine like a puzzle piece. His steady breaths turned to a sharp exhale with each rough thrust until we both reached our climax, moaning and groaning in pure bliss.

I was completely relaxed in the afterglow, Chanyeol tossed the condom in the trash and returned to the bed.  He turned me over to hold me from behind, bringing my focus to the tattoo on his forearm. I traced the circles and lines with my finger, causing his skin to form little goosebumps because of his ticklishness.

"You won't regret this, baby.  You and I won't have anything holding us back." He rested his head in the crook of my neck, making himself more comfortable. "We'll be just like this every night." I shivered when his lips made contact with my sweet spot. "No more stresses. I promise."

For the first time in a while, I felt so at ease. We slept peacefully through the night and woke up refreshed and ready to start our day of packing. I made certain to bring my songbook so we could finish some songs and create new ones on the road.

Chanyeol left to get his things from his place around noon, kissing me goodbye before he went on his way. I called a local storage unit and arranged to pack away the rest of my belongings there until I got back. Everything was settled except for one thing. Saying goodbye.

I was fully prepared to just leave without a word, but I owed my brother an explanation and I know he'd be the one who would support me in all this. I sent him a message, telling him to come over since we had to 'talk. Within the hour, he arrived and had a look of worry on his face.

"What's happening? Why are you all packed up?" He asked me.

"I'm leaving. Chanyeol has a tour coming up and I'm going with him."

"You’re what?!" So much for my supportive brother. "Do you realize what you're doing here?"

"Yes. I was given an option and I've made my decision. Mom and dad have controlled my life for the last time. I need a break." I said.

"Mom and dad have given you a lifeline to continue your education and live in a very nice apartment in a good neighborhood while you do so. Tours end Y/n. You really need to think about this long-term option. You're going to come back and then what? Take out loans until you're up to your eyeballs in debt and live on the street?" Everything he said had me feeling so conflicted. But I can't let him see me crack under pressure. "If you really love him. You need to let him go and if he loves you back, then he'll return and we can all figure this out and get mom and dad on board the right way. At this point, you need to stay in their good graces and follow their rules."

Just when I heard that horrible word I cringed. 'Rules'. Mom and dad's rules. I shook my head and stood my ground. "That's just it. I'm not going to follow behind them anymore. I know tours end, but I'm going to be gone for a while. I'll finally have time to think and I'm not some uneducated girl who is hopeless."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know, but our parents aren't the only ones who can help me. I'm also on academic scholarships and think about it. I've been with Chanyeol for months and my grades haven't slipped once. I know he loves me back because he told me. He didn't pressure me to go with him. He offered like a decent person and made sure my mind was made up." I explained. "I'm going with him."

My brother took in what I said with sincerity and nodded. "Fair enough." He got up and processed his thoughts.

"Please don't hate me. The only reason I'm telling you this is so you won't worry about me and I knew you'd understand." I stood up and reached out for his hand.

"And I do understand. I have to say, this is the first time I've seen you this way. I never knew you had such strength." He said. "You're still my sister and I love you no matter what. If going is what you need to find your peace, then, by all means, go. Doctor’s orders." He said with a smile.

I brought him in for a tight hug and thanked him over and over. I honestly didn't even need my parent's approval, I just needed the person who actually cared about my well being. He kissed the top of my head and let go.

"Good luck. I'll be here when you get back." He assured me.

A few minutes after he left, the movers showed up to bring my things to the storage unit. Chanyeol came back to pick me up, I looked around at my empty apartment and grabbed my bags.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah. I'm great actually." I gave him a kiss and we went out to the car.

On our way to the airport, I looked out the window, watching the place I call home pass by. I had a taste of this bittersweet moment, but Chanyeol was there to hold my hand and make it all better.

The bands first tour became a roaring success which leads to a national arena tour, and then a worldwide stadium tour. Chanyeol and I continued to write music which climbed the charts every time. I finally achieved my dream of being a renowned lyricist and finished my degree in music.

My brother fulfilled his promise and stood by me when I got back from my break. He was right there with me when I told my parents that I was no longer going to hide in their shadow, but create opportunities for myself. They also fulfilled their promise of cutting me off and for a while, we lost contact. But they were still my parents and over time they came around to see my life as my own and not a legacy of theirs.

They still abided by their parental duties and sat in the crowd when I graduated from college. and at Chanyeol and I's wedding a few years after that, and attended the birth of their grandchild. The road to happiness was like trying to fight the tides in the ocean, but by the time the waters settled, I finally found harmony.

THE END

[regretsdelusionstoughluck]

PART 3

WEDNESDAY MORNING

While Damon was online looking for odd jobs he noticed an add for dancers needed. He’s had a stripper license since he was 19 and used this as a means for extra money when not deployed. He sent this to Oliver in an email prior to calling him on his way to the pharmacy.

“Morning”

“Check out the email”

As he pulled out his iPad, he saw the email

“What the fuck is this?”

“Strippin....you already do way more,  plus a bachelorette party would get you a killing. I used to dance at a few of them when I was home”

“Got anything else?”

“Banquets, I know a lot of companies. I can send you a list of catering companies you could do work for. What you got going on right now?”

“Laying on the couch, going into the office”

[Really? That’s the best you got? What part of “I want out of this life do you not understand?]

While he wasn’t thrilled about it, he took some time to think about t and he realized that bachelorette parties are for the entertainment value and he did keep his body in shape. However, didn’t want his current situation to mirror that of “The Players Club”.

Oliver got up from the couch to fix himself an omelette while continuing to talk. “Yo, I got you on speaker phone, doing some stuff in the kitchen”

“Man, remember when we were young and we would see vacationers out here, we vowed that one day it would be us taking trips with our families?”

“I do, and when I look at where I’m at, I think to myself “What the actual fuck?”

[We were lied to. In 2008, when we were in high school, we were told to go to college. That it was the ticket to a successful life. What they didn’t tell us is that the economy would tank. They didn’t go cover any alternatives. They never went over the cost of living and the fact that people here are working three jobs. I should have seen this with my own parents. Dad worked for the state and then worked as a janitor in the evenings. Mom still works as a financial aid officer at a state college. The preparation sucked. What the fuck am I gonna use creative writing for? Why was that in school?]

He cut the conversation short to eat his breakfast and get a shower in before work. Afterwards, he ironed a pair of pants and a golf shirt and heaved to the office where the direction informed him and Claudia:

“I have a project for the two of you. Our event is coming up at the mall. You two are going to be drawing outlines to these animal pieces on the construction poet right there. We’re expecting about 200 kids”

“No problem” Oliver said looking at the green construction paper in front of him

“It’ll be a breeze” Claudia assured him as she took a pair of scissors and the elephant trunk and demonstrated. 

“So it’s like build a bear type of think but with other animals but they’re decorating their bags with them. That’s cute”

“Yeah, so are you gonna go to the career fair next week”

“The one at the convention center?”

“Yea, I heard there’s going to be several companies there.”

[Resume-FEMA, fucking, and non-profit]

“I plan on it. Do you know if any government agencies are gonna be there? I couldn’t find a roster anywhere”

“Not sure”

They continued working while talking about goals and aspirations when he noticed an alert on her phone. Knowing the conference due to getting the same alert an hour earlier, he asked her how she knew about it? Somewhat embarrassed, she snapped “What are you doing looking at my phone?!”

“I merely glanced over!” he exclaimed before taking her aside and confessing to being involved in the worlds oldest profession “I hate it. One would think attractive people and pleasure but there’s no real live and frankly it feels like a modern version of slavery. I can’t get a decent date to save my life”

After a moment of silence, she admitted that she was a phone sex operator and that she worked in evenings. “I have a friend who also is in high class escorting”

“High class?”

“Let’s talk about it later? How about we meet for a drink after work? We need to get a bit more of this done.”

Meanwhile, Damon was scouting on the web when his eye caught the attention of a webcam modeling website.

 He though about his current life and how he’d mange to file his taxes. He normally got a 1090 at the end of the year. He also though about the repercussions of this and the thought that the clientele could  be from his local area. He had a flashback to being deployed in Germany where he and some buds where in a night club, partying surrounded by beautiful women. “We are like royalty!”  He thought about a conversation he had with his peer about wanting to serve for eight years and then retire and start college. Little did he know that half way though that time frame that he’d suffer a back injury along w/ PTSD from witnessing the death of a friend at the hands of a grenade.

He applied for work with multiple agencies and thought about how he could sporadically work vs checking in daily. With webcam modeling he could set his own schedule. With that in mind he decided to text Oliver.

“Who was that?”

“My friend Damon”

“So about how long have you with with this company?”

“About six months. I’m trying to start grad school”

They chatted while filing paperwork. They talked about politics, racial issues, economic issues, and the like. Claudia made for good company. She graduated with two degrees. She majored in English Education and Journalism and worked as a teacher’s aide for a period. She was tired of the work with virtually no pay. She responded to an add. Currently she works for a phone sex. One has seen the commercials late at night. She’s one of them. Definitely more conventional than Oliver’s current job. 

As he was getting ready to eat lunch, she Claudia asked him if he wanted to eat while they worked. “Sure” he said as he went to grab his lunch out of his bag. 

“We work with several schools in their special ed departments”

“What do y’all do?”

”We will be finalizing contracts for events mainly. But we do outreach and after school programs on social etiquette and speech practices our goal is to  help those with autism be as integrated into society as possible” Noticing Oliver’s garden salad, she asked him “you health conscious?”

“Yep. Grew up like that. My parent’s rarely fried anything, but they didn’t ban them from the house. My mom was always big on vitamins and drinking plenty of water. I practice that today, to keep things under control. Being a diabetic, I have to watch it.”

Shocked at the revelation she asked him when he was diagnosed. He was diagnosed at 6 years old.

“I’m trying to lose weight, but I find myself emotionally eating more than I should”

Trying to avoid saying anything that could be interpreted as offensive, he simply said that he had his days too, hence the reason he goes to the gym six days/week, doing a combination of cardio and weights. After they finished eating lunch, they cut more construction paper and bagged it. They filed folders away for about an hour when Oliver signed out.”See you tomorrow?”

“You’ll see me in a couple of hours.”

The sun was beaming as Oliver drove home. He rolled down his window and plugged his phone in to have some music playing. He checked the mail and saw the electric bill was in. “Shouldn’t be this much” he said “I’m never home”

He checked his email as well as his escorting profile receiving three request including one overnight stay. Booking these trips back to back, he thought about his weekly check at $8.75/hr at 25 hrs per week along w/ the money from the three client’s that he’d earn. He’d have enough to pay his final payment on his only student loan and to pay his car note.

He kicked off his shoes to give his feet some air and called his mom.

[I’m being nice. This place is a shithole, in fact the only reason my unit isn’t laden with roaches is because I frequently buy those foggers and then I have to open the damn windows and door risking my shit being stolen. Also, Bengal and Boric Acid along the cracks and corners have done wonders.]

He looked up and realized that it was time to meet Claudia. He traded in his work outfit for a pair or black cargo shorts, a zero-nineteen tank top from K-Mart, and a pair of flip-flops and headed out. He got in the truck, turned the air on and arrived to the bar 20 minutes later. Locating Claudia at a table in the bar area we walked in to meet her when the waiter took their drink order.

[She’s a pharmacy tech and she still needs to be a lady of the evening by night? I’m fucked-literally and figuratively]

She advised him to update his profile to include massages and casual dates at a lower rate. While they were talking, A woman walks up, dark skin, about 5′9, in her mid 20s. She spotted Claudia and walked in the sit next to her.

“Hey chick!”

“Hey!”

“Hello, I’m Aya, how are your doing?” she said as she reached out to shake Oliver’s hand

“Oliver, I’m good. How about you?”

“So this is the guy? He’s cute”

“He’s taken”

“Actually I’m very available”

After ordering a drink, she begin to explain to Oliver how she got into her current part time job.  “I started off escorting however a client of mine introduced me to a coworker of his that owned a matchmaking service. I showed up to a mixer I went out on one date. I never saw the guy again afterwards. That said, he did mention to me that he had utilized services where one would rent a dates for events. I eventually branched off and begin advertising on craigslist and the like.”

“So do you still...….you  know?”

“Sporadically, but that’ll cost extra.”

Later that night, he decided to update his profile w/ additional services offered. He decided to try out a couple of speed dating events himself. He might even snap a client or two.  Perhaps, he’d been looking in the wrong places, maybe it was time for more upscale social functions. His current evening work was not a glamorous job and frankly it was quite dangerous. 

[Prostitution can be traced back as far as biblical times. Not a new profession and it’s a profession that’s always been available for the money. Sometimes, we use it to pay off a loan or some sort of debt. For others, it’s the love of sex. Some just like the temporary luxury that comes with being one’s bitch. Me? I’d like nothing more than to settle down. I know there’s a way. It may take a while to find it, but I refuse to have THIS be my stop.]

STORY SYNOPSIS

CHARACTERS

PART 4 TO FOLLOW

[douchebagbrainwaves]

UNLESS THEIR WORKING DAY ENDS AT THE SAME TIME

The average 25 year old is no match for companies that have already raised money. But once you've admitted that one high level language can be more powerful than your own. I was still wasting time imitating the wrong things? I first laid out these principles explicitly, I noticed something striking: this is practically a recipe for succeeding just by negating. Productivity varies in any field, but I don't think our competitors understood, and few understand even now: when you're writing software that only has to do something trivially easy. That may be the more important of the two. Certainly not the authors. Whether to do anything hard in. Lexical closures provide a way to get a job. For example, open source software is more reliable precisely because it's open source; anyone can find mistakes. By the end of the scale, nature seems to be more companies like us. This essay is derived from a talk at Oscon 2005.

The people who understood our technology best were the customers. Fortunately you have some control over both how much you make, and you can decrease the amount of bullshit in your life by more than you think. By definition you can't tell from his portfolio. I knew practically nothing about the paths from rich to poor.1 If your terms force startups to do things they never anticipated, rather than a real downtown, Brasilia rather than Rome, Ada rather than C. There's nothing like going to grad school at Harvard to cure you of any illusions you might have about the average Harvard undergrad. What you're doing is business creation. Maybe it would be misleading even to call them centers. And the thing we'd built, as far as they could tell, wasn't even software. Many things people like, especially if they're young and ambitious, they like largely for the feeling of virtue in liking them. A programming language does need a good implementation, of course, but as far as they could tell, wasn't even software.2

Technically the term high-level language, in the long run, of the forces underlying open source and blogs are done for free, but before the Web it was harder than it looked.3 When you choose technology, you have to figure out. It's there to some degree in almost every field, but there aren't enough investors who will give $200k to a startup that was sufficiently successful would never have to move. VCs. So you could say either was the cause. The companies that rule Silicon Valley now are all descended in various ways from Shockley Semiconductor. Hackers like to hack, and hacking means getting inside things and second guessing the original designer. It's basically the diminutive form of belligerent. They switch because it's a better browser.4

It's not simply a matter of writing a lot of the new principles business has to learn it? He suggests starting with Python and Java, because they are easy to learn. That's what you do.5 Does this sound familiar?6 Except books—but books are different. And users don't care where you went to a better college. But if you make a language popular? The language can help here too. Now Palo Alto is suburbia, but then it was a charming college town—a language you should learn as an intellectual exercise, even though the latter depends more on determination than brains. How do you protect yourself from these people?

If you make something users want, then you're dead, whatever else you do or don't do. I bet this isn't true.7 I think the effect of such external factors on the popularity of a programming language rather than, say, making the language strongly typed. People interested in local events that one is solving mostly a single type of problem instead of many different types. Microsoft is remarkable among big companies in that they are able to develop software in house. But Y Combinator runs on the maker's schedule has a meeting, they have to be really good at tricking you. They were not even on a path to anything interesting. By the time you have to design buildings that don't fall down, but the creator is full of soot. If willfulness and discipline are what get you to profitability but you can tell it must be satisfying expectations I didn't know I had. The last one might be the most important.

The Reddits pushed so hard against the current that they reversed it; now it looks like they're merely floating downstream.8 If you throw them out, you find that good products do tend to win in the market. And God help you if you choose them. It seems unlikely this is a sign that something is broken?9 How about writer?10 Our secret weapon was similar. But there's another way of using time that's common among people who make things, like programmers and writers. Revealingly, the same status as what comes with it. What's less often understood is that there are more of them. For I see a painting impressively hung in a museum, I ask myself: how much would I pay for this if I found it at a garage sale, dirty and frameless, and with no idea who painted it?

The reason we tell founders not to worry about and which not to.11 The melon seed model implies it's possible to make yourself into one. My God, it was harder to reach an audience or collaborate on projects. Better to get a lot done. I accumulated all this useless stuff, but that the people pretending to work. There is usually so much demand for custom work that unless you're really incompetent there has to be in the twentieth century.12 Using first and rest instead of car and cdr often are, in successive lines.

And that is just what tends to happen. I cheat by using a very dense language, which shrinks the court. In this particular case there is a way to finesse our way out of lower-level abstractions are built in a very transparent way out of lower-level abstractions, which you can survive.13 And odds are that is in fact the bullshit-minimizing option. There are usually a few people in a company with someone you dislike because they have some skill you need and you worry you won't find anyone else. Note too that determination and talent are not the whole story. That word balance is a significant one.14 I tried my best to imitate them. Often, indeed, it is at least different from when I started. You may have as many as five or ten releases a day.15 So if Lisp makes you a better programmer, like he says, why wouldn't you want to get the most out of them, and lose half a day's work; or we can try to avoid meeting them, and probably offend them.

Notes

For example, understanding French will help dispel the cloud of semi-sacred mystery that surrounds wisdom in ancient philosophy may be some things it's a significant effect on returns, it's easy to believe your whole future depends on where you go to grad school, and the war it was actually a computer.

Investors are professional negotiators, and all the East Coast. In many ways the New Deal but with World War II had disappeared.

Ed. Some of the lies we tell.

When I catch egregiously linkjacked posts I replace the url with that additional constraint, you can't even claim, like indifference to individual users. In Shakespeare's own time in the 1980s was enabled by a central authority according to some abstract notion of fairness or randomly, in the 70s, moving to Monaco would give us. VCs may begin to conserve board seats by switching to what modernist architects meant.

The person who would in 1950. I did when I was a good idea to make money from the truth to say that was actively maintained would be investors who turned them down because investors already owned more than just getting started. 7% of American kids attend private, non-programmers grasped that in the world of the most accurate way to find a broad hard-beaten road to his time was 700,000 per month. But one of few they had in grad school, because they attract so much on luck.

Dealers try to write your thoughts down in, say, recursion, and in fact you're descending in a difficult position. But do you use this route instead.

In principle yes, of S P 500 CEOs in 2002 was 35,560.

Some blue counties are false positives caused by filters will have to want them; you don't see them, but whether it's good enough to convince limited partners. If by cutting the founders' advantage if it were. An accountant might say that IBM makes decent hardware.

This is not a VC who read it ever wished it longer. 'Math for engineers' classes sucked mightily. Even college textbooks is unpleasant work, like warehouses. 5% of Apple now January 2016 would be to say because most of the lawyers they need them to get the people worth impressing already judge you more than investors.

So the most surprising things I've learned about VC inattentiveness. Stone, op. No, we met Aydin Senkut. I overstated the case.

The way to pressure them to ignore investors and instead of just Jews any more than make them want you.

I couldn't convince Fred Wilson for reading drafts of this essay, I preferred to work than stay home with them. I wonder if that means is No, and that modern corporate executives would work. Mayle, Peter, Why Are We Getting a Divorce?

There are people in return for something that would appeal to space aliens, but this would be critical to do something we didn't, they still probably won't invest in so many different schools of thought about how to allocate resources, political deal-making power. There were a variety called Red Delicious that had other meanings. The problem is that you'll expend a lot like meaning.

It's not the shape that matters financially for investors. This plan backfired with the New Deal but with World War II the tax codes were so bad that they probably wouldn't be worth trying to deliver the lines meant for a startup than it was 10 years ago. At the time I thought there wasn't, because they can't afford to. Where Do College English 28 1966-67, pp.

Your user model almost couldn't be perfectly accurate, because the illiquidity of progress puts them at the works of their growth from earnings.

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay: Chapter 6

Hello!!! This chapter is later than I hoped to get it out, but it got much much longer than I planned, and I decided to cut the chapter into two so I could get this chapter out now. Enjoy!

Tags for chapter: fluff, very faint themes of unwanted flirting, protective!phil

Words for chapter: ~4k

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<-- Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan and Jaime had both played hookie and taken off the next day, on Sunday. They ended up going to the movies like they had originally planned the day before, and walked around Manchester after, buying way too many snacks from street vendors and whirling through stores, sometimes purchasing things, sometimes not. Dan ended up with a new jumper and a pair of ripped jeans that actually made his legs look good and not just like he'd robbed his trousers off of a homeless man.

However, Dan couldn't just afford to take days off on his schedule whenever he wanted, and he was right back in that caffeine-saturated building bright and early Monday morning. Jaime wasn't with him—she was scheduled for a later shift and would arrive sometime this afternoon—so it was quieter than normal, and a perfect recreation of last Monday's morning.

Hopefully I won't dance in front of any strangers, then, if this is Last Monday Pt 2.

With that thought, Dan's brain immediately switched to thinking about the downright mysterious man who had found his way, literally, stumbling into Dan's life.

Phil had very obviously been in last Monday, and the Wednesday after, but he had also ended up showing up this past Friday as well, and god, Dan wished that that encounter hadn't happened. He had been in the bathroom only to come back and find Jaime talking with Phil as if they were the closest of old friends, laughing together, Jaime's hand close to her mouth as if she was telling him a secret. Dan still didn't know what they had talked to each other about, but when Jaime went to go "see about something in the back" when she noticed Dan, she had given him a wink. Phil's face had also been flushed, and he had had what Dan could only equate to a slightly embarrassed, slightly pleased smile.

Dan flicked his eyes to the glass door. He had opened the store all of four minutes ago, but there was still a little part of him that was wondering…

Maybe he'll come back today?

Dan wasn't sure if he wanted to get his hopes up, not really. Sure, Phil was entertaining, a really fun guy to be around, the fucking weatherman, mind you, and he was really damn attractive, but Jaime had told him a lot that Phil had been flirting with him, and the thought that Phil wanted a romantic relationship with him turned his stomach. Dan didn't date people because of his horrid-at-best history with significant others, and he really didn't want to have to go into anything like that with Phil. He was content to try a friendship with the guy if it happened, but other than that, sign him the fuck out.

Thankfully, the day didn't start out completely just like last Monday. The shop was anything but dead, and Dan would think that it was a holiday or something with the stream of people that wouldn't stop coming in. It was a bit much for just Dan to manage, and if he hadn't been working for as long as he had as a barista, he was certain that it would have been hell to deal with so many people in such a short time. The good thing was that all of the traffic kept him busy. He was making lattes and espressos and dinks with little foam designs, and before he knew it, time was flying by. It was no longer early morning, but a little past one in the afternoon and the past six-ish hours felt like a blink, but Dan was glad for the lull. He had been on his feet rushing around to fill orders all morning, and it kind of sucked, so Dan just slumped against the counter, exhaling for what seemed like the first time all day.

Dan's stomach grumbled angrily and he pressed his palm to his abdomen, the corner of his lip pulling down. He'd forgotten about breakfast this morning.

He looked around the coffee shop. There were about a half dozen people besides himself, and none of them were paying Dan any attention, nor did they seem like they were going to need his assistance anytime soon.

Dan made himself a coffee because after six hours of non-stop labor he deserved it, and picked out one of the wrapped sandwiches that they sold. He couldn't take a full on lunch break like he may have wanted to because there was no one too cover the store while he ate and took a half an hour to relax, so Dan just dragged a chair up next to the counter and sat down, letting out a deep sigh.

Working a double shift all alone sucked ass, but Dan didn't mind too much in the instance that the only other person who would be able to work a shift like this with him besides Jaime was Steve. And fuck, that guy was an asshole. So really, Dan would take working himself harder than normal then having to subject him to shitty company when he didn't have to.

He ate quicker than normal, the hunger in his stomach multiplying once he started eating. God, he should never skip breakfast. It only fucked him over later. Oh you're hungry? You skipped a meal? Well you better eat twice your weight if you want any chance of feeling full ever again.

Dan's sandwich was gone from his hands before he knew it, so he sipped his coffee, too lazy to get up and grab another. He'd eat something small later when he had a moment while working. The caffeine was starting to work through his system now too, and he could feel a bit of his lost energy coming back.

His break didn't last all that long, though—barely fifteen minutes—before the crowds were back and he had to help his fellow human beings get their caffeine fix.

Over the course of the next hour or so, Dan was back to working just like he had this morning with the amount of people walking into the store. He had to have sold a record amount of coffee for a single day, and he still had several hours left to his shift when Jaime would take over. It was kind of incredible, and if Dan maybe wasn't the one behind the counter, he might have found it a little impressive.

The next lull he had was some time later, at about four-thirty, and once the girl he had just served walked away, Dan had his hand in the opened bag of crisps behind the counter. He was starving and really wished that he had eaten something more than a medium coffee and a small sandwich.

Dan had his face full, mid-chew when someone walked up to the counter. He had the undeniable air of a uni student, a bag slung over his shoulder and wearing some sort of combination of pajamas and street clothes that only broke and in-debt twenty-something university college students would deem acceptable.

Not that Dan really had any room to talk. He looked like a hobo at the best of times as well.

"Hi, could I bother you for another shot of espresso? Or two, actually? I have a late shift tonight that I've got to get to, and I won't be able to study for my test until like, 3AM. I need all of the caffeine I can get right now." he said sheepishly, holding out his drink. Dan raised his eyebrows. He remembered this guy the first time he had served him, and Dan had already put three shots of espresso in initially at his request.

"You sure?" He asked, taking the cup. It was about half empty. "I mean I get it crash studying is pretty important but jeez that sounds like a death wish. Not to mention pretty tasteless."

The guy laughed, a wide smile on his face. He looked a lot nicer when he was smiling. Less glum and like he was about to keel over.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. The sacrifices we take for a degree, huh?" He yawned before he could add anything past that, a hand covering his mouth. "You know what? Make it two, please. You don't have to bother refilling the drink, I'll just take the espresso. Pray for me, I might not make it out of this alive."

Dan snorted as he popped the lid off of the cup and put it under the espresso maker. Two shots. Dan used one of the little straws to mix up the still-steaming contents of the cup. He looked over at the guy standing there, watching Dan work. He had about the same build as Dan did and if just being able to smell the drink seemed to alert Dan's senses, this guy was definitely going to not be sleeping for quite a while. Dan pitied him for the caffeine crash that was going to fuck this guy's ass like a speeding truck. Dan reached out for a new lid for the cup—company policy—but there weren't any more large-sized lids and his hand grazed the bare table-top. Fuck, he must have run out.

"Here, one sec," Dan said, passing the open coffee cup to the guy. Dan dropped down, opening the cabinet under the counter and moving aside. He heard the glass door open, the little bell ringing for the millionth time today, and internally groaned. Can't even get a fucking break.

He came back up, a stack of the little plastic lids in his hands, grabbing one and depositing the rest off to the side where the medium and small lids were. Dan noticed the guy's eyes following his body, and it rolled his stomach and tied it into knots simultaneously, but he tried to ignore it and handed the lid over. The guy clicked it on.

"Do I owe you anything for that..?" He asked. Dan could feel his skin crawling, but he didn't try to kill the friendly smile on his face even if it was strained.

"Nah, no need to pay your executioner," he joked, silently hoping that this guy would go away. He laughed, but Dan didn't, just still choosing to stand there with that god-awful feeling rising in his chest.

"Thanks. My name's Jon, but my friends call me Jonny." He bit his lip, and while Dan might have been oblivious, even he knew that this guy was now flirting with him. He had had his suspicions when he noticed Jon's gaze on his ass, but Dan's hopes that this guy would stop at blind lust were apparently in vain.

Dan gave him a strangled smile. Walk away walk away walk away-

Jon opened his mouth to say something else, but behind him someone cleared his throat. Jon jumped a little, clearly expecting it just as little as Dan had, and gave Dan a nervous smile, but stepped away.

"Sorry, I'll let you get back to work. Maybe I'll see you around, then-" he said, dragging out the 'n' and squinting at the nametag on Dan's shirt, "-Dan."

Jon gave Dan one last toothy grin and a wave, turning on his heel and walking towards the exit. Dan still felt uncomfortable, still had the lump in his chest, still wanted to duck behind the counter and hide, but he tore his gaze away from Jon. Dan had a job to do and apparently Jon's flirting had pissed off the person behind him, so Dan would be better off not adding fuel to that fire. He didn't want to deal with a miserable customer on top of it all.

"Uh, hi how can I-Phil?" Dan sputtered, his eyes going wide as he saw Phil standing there, head turned towards Jon's retreating form, a frown on his face, something fiery in his eye. Phil was the one that was behind Jon? Oh fuck that means he saw him flirting with me. Shit what if he thinks I'm okay with that and he tried something shit shit shi-

Phil's attention flicked to Dan's and god those blue blue eyes were stormy. His shoulders were tense and his face wasn't anywhere close to how open it always was. It was closed off behind what seemed like a brick wall.

In short, Phil looked pissed at best, ready to deck someone at worst.

"I-are you...okay?"

Phil let out a breath—a massive sigh, really—and let his eyes close for a moment. When they opened they weren't as dark, and the lines of his body weren't as sharp, but it still seemed strikingly obvious to Dan that something was up with him.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just, ah, just tired, that's all."

Bullshit. It wasn't even a convincing lie. Dan opened his mouth to call Phil out on it and ask what was really wrong and why he looked like he had just been thirty seconds from fighting someone (that someone who was yet to be determined) but he stopped himself. He and Phil didn't really know each other—not really—and they certainly didn't know each other enough for Dan to call BS, right? That was something that friends did. Were they even friends?

Dan didn't know, and he didn't know if that was a question that someone just asked another person, so he just dropped it, nodding a little robotically and giving a non-committal hum that could mean either "I know exactly what you mean, very relatable" or "we both know you're lying" and decided to let Phil figure it out.

"Okay. Would you, uh, like a coffee?" Dan asked. His voice sounded all wrong in his ears and his entire mind seemed to just be screaming the same thing: Why are you so damn awkward?

And to that, Dan didn't have an answer.

"Yeah, a caramel macchiato, if you wouldn't mind."

And like every other drink he's made today, Dan's hands almost flew on their own accord, but his mind was elsewhere, entirely.

Phil certainly had quite the ability to appear out of nowhere when Dan was the least prepared for dealing with him. No, that wasn't right, that made it sound as if Phil was a problem. And he wasn't, not at all, not even close, he just...was so different. It was as if Dan didn't know how to act around the guy, and could anyone really blame him? Dan's run into him mid-sink into a depressive episode, been caught dancing—which he didn't do—to Muse by the guy, and just now, too, when Dan was uncomfortable as fuck and being flirted with, Phil was there.

And fuck, why did it matter so much to Dan? Why in hell was it apparently important enough for Dan to stress himself over it while he was making Phil's coffee.

Phil looked much more relaxed when Dan handed him the coffee, and the faint smile on his lips was enough to assure Dan that whatever had angered Phil wasn't too bad, if he was smiling already.

"This is probably going to sound weird, but do you not work Sundays?"

Dan looked up from the register where he was ringing up Phil's order. He felt a little bit of heat crawl up his face. Jaime saying he's flirting with you seemed to bounce around in Dan's skull, but he prayed that it didn't show, just letting a little smirk on his face and throwing up the first defense mechanism that he used when he wasn't sure if he was reading a situation wrong: sarcasm and humor.

"You haven't even told me your last name yet but you're asking me for my work schedule?" Dan cocked an eyebrow to make the ruse work. He was still feeling a bit off, and he didn't need Phil to know that.

Phil's eyes went wide and if he had been drinking at the moment, Dan was sure that he would have spit it out.

"What no, no! I didn't—I mean—not like, I-"

Dan laughed and waved away Phil's panic.

"Phil, I'm joking, it's okay. I work everyday except for Saturday, more times than not. Every once in awhile my schedule will get altered or something, but I pretty much am in day in and day out." Dan said, giggling uncontrollably, trying in vain to calm his laughter because frankly, Phil freaking out over possibly offending Dan or something like that was funny as shit.

(and adorable, but that thought didn't even have to be acknowledged by Dan himself)

"Wait a minute, did you come in yesterday to come see me or something?" Dan said, stopping himself. Phil's face went bright red and his eyes went wider, and Dan couldn't help the grin from spreading across his face as Phil tried to find some excuse. He seemed to give up, however, after a moment.

"Uh, yeah, I might have," Phi squeaked out, rubbing the back of his head. He looked like a goddamn little kid admitting to stealing biscuits before dinner for fuck's sake.

Dan didn't really know how to respond to that—did anyone?—so all he did was keep the smile on his face and roll his eyes a little.

"And, it's Lester."

"Excuse me?"

"You mentioned that you didn't know my last name, and it's Lester."

"Oh. Phil Lester. It has a nice ring to it." Dan seemed to be rambling, but he doubted that he could stop himself at this point.

"What about you? Or should I keep think of you as Dan The Guy Who Makes My Coffees?"

"It's Howell." Dan muttered, breaking their eye contact.

"Dan Howell?" Phil asked, a sudden serious glint in his eye. Dan gulped.

"Yeah?" Fuck there goes his anxiety. Off the charts once again.

"Can I have a donut?"

"Oh fuck you!" Dan whined, poking Phil in the shoulder, who was giggling like a mad man, a hand in front of his mouth. "Here I was, thinking you were going to ask me something all serious and all that, and you ask me for a fucking donut? The nerve!"

Phil was laughing hard enough that almost no sound was coming out, and his eyes got all squinty. His hand had dropped away to lay on his chest and Dan could see the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he giggled.

"You should have seen your face!" Phil breathed, and Dan poked him again, but it wasn't with malice. He was smiling himself. Widely, in fact.

This shithead…

When Phil stopped laughing, he looked up back at Dan, a grin splitting his face.

"I hate you." "No you don't. At least, you do a really bad job at showing it, Dan."

"Mhm. You say that like we're friends. True friends would tell each other things like the fact that they're the weatherman, or not try and lowkey stalk them at work, or-"

"Wait a minute, how do you know that I'm the weatherman?"

This time, it was Dan's turn to blush, and he did, heavily, the events of Saturday jumping to the front of his consciousness.

"Saturday I was hanging out with Jaime, and we uh, wanted to know when it would stop raining? So she must have found the local channel, and low and behold you were on it, broadcasting the fucking weather."

Phil blushed, a nervous little laugh bubbling out from his chest.

"I wouldn't give myself that much credit, really. I'm just a part-time unpaid intern part-time employee trying to earn some experience out there and put my name out. I wasn't supposed to actually be telling the weather, but turns out the camera must, ah, love me. At least that's what my boss says."

"Still, Phil, I quite literally choked on a piece of popcorn when you're smiling face just appeared on Jaime's TV with a cloud themed tie."

"You what?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't believe it myself. But there you were, and there I was, like, dying. I should demand compensation for the trauma I've been through."

"What are you going to do, take me to court?"

"Hmm, maybe. You'll hear from my attorney, certainly. Or, probably. I dunno, I've still got to think about what kinds of charges I'm going to press against you. And get an attorney." Dan said, and really, the levels of sarcasm they were single-handedly projecting were astounding.

"Okay, here," Phil said, reaching over and easily picking Dan's phone out of his jeans pocket the sides of his fingers brushing up against the black denim. The action so casual and Phil was so damn confident about it, that Dan just sucked in his breath and watched, open mouthed, as Phil clicked the phone screen on.

"Password?" he asked, turning the phone around. Dan reached out, typed it in, but it was like he was in a daze. Was this really happening?

Phil started typing something, and then snapped a photo of his coffee. He handed Dan his phone back, and bright and new on Dan's screen was a contact titled Phil Lester (is amazing!!). The icon was a picture of the top of Phil's caramel macchiato, only his pale hand visible.

"There you go, let me know when you figure it out, okay? I've got to get to my part-time at Tesco's, but I'll see you around?"

"Uh, yeah. Yes. See you, Phil."

Phil smiled, and Dan smiled back before he even realized he was completing the action. Phil smiled so he smiled back. It was that simple.

He turned and walked away, and Dan's eyes followed his lanky frame the entire time. He watched as Phil opened the door—that tiny bell sounding—and stepped outside. And when Phil passed by the huge floor-to-ceiling window that made up the majority of the one wall and waved to Dan, that big grin still on his face, Dan couldn't help the laugh that spilled from his lips just as much as he couldn't stop his hand waving back.

~~~~~

Twenty minutes later, Dan was serving two girls when he caught sight of a forgotten pastry, pushed off to the side of the counter. It took him a moment, but the dots connected almost simultaneously, and as soon as the two girls were gone, Dan was whipping out his phone, scrolling through his contacts to the newest one. He typed out a message and his thumb hesitated over the send button, but Dan shook his head and pressed it. Too late to go back now.

>> To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

I still havent figured out the charges

but

you forgot ur donut you spork

[Multimedia message]

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

D:

I'm at work rn, what time do you close?

>> To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

um real late, like 10

but my shift's over at 6

so it'll be jaime and some teenager probs

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

:'(((

fiiiiinnnnneeeee

I'll have to pick up my donut later won't I?

>> To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

uh yeah, i guess

or u can come in tomorrow or smth if like

u dont want to be wandering into a coffee

shop at 10 at night

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

what, you would like save the donut or smth?

>> To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

lester if u think if ur coming back tomorrow

im not going to eat this donut u are gravely

mistaken

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

wow dan I cant believe you dan

actually no I can

I've got to get back to work

see you tomorrow?

>> To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

have fun

and yeah i'll still be here in this caffeinated

hell, so, see you, lester

Dan looked up from his phone as a trio walked in, chatting among themselves. He slipped his phone in his pocket (his back pocket this time, thanks a lot Phil) and threw a smile on his face. It was the easiest he had smiled all day.