#yeah I shaded this real messy and lazily

[idrawgaystffs]

[Insert Joke or select other payment type]

Just some ChellDOS for @chelltastic ’s Portal Drawtober prompt list (Day 15: Chell + Day 21: Favorite Core)

[sweetestlamb]

Let's Play A Love Game

Author's note: this one is rated 😈 so yeah. There was originally more angst in my mind but once I got to that part I was over it lol I'm the worst at angst I much rather make it naughty. It's more rushed than I wanted but I don't really have time to write 10k fics right now. But hopefully soon.

Summary: it's just pretend, right?

She hadn't meant to push the event in the corner of her mind until she forgot about it completely, so much so that when the e-vite showed up in her inbox she stared at it in wide eyed shock not even noticing Mi-Seon creeping up behind her.

"It's already time for that? I usually know it's coming because you start buying expensive dresses you can't afford and crying at your credit card bill. Maybe country life has really changed you hm?"

False. Inaccurate. Utterly wrong to the every core.

She lets out a shrill scream letting her head fall painfully on her desktop.

"I'm an idiot! Just kill me now, I deserve it." She has nothing to wear, okay the mountain of boxes in her living room, bedroom and some hidden in the linen closet beg to defer but none of that is worthy of this event. The annual dentist convention in Seoul, it's a week long getaway. It's meant to be an opportunity to build connections and attend professional learning classes, but that has long been abandoned. Now it is a fashion show and chance to show off your success and this year more than ever she has to impress everyone. They all look down on her and her cute little practice. Those judgemental snarky bitches.

"Do we have anymore patients?" She absently asks her best friend, only friend already getting up and walking away.

"No that was the last one. Do you want to call it a day?" She doesn't give a verbal reply lost in her phone and the disease that is online shopping, in the span of three minutes she has already added seven dresses to her cart.

"Chief Hong is going to have a long day."

It's just as Mi-seon says the next day the nosy know it all shows up glaring at her over the handful of packages in his arms.

"Don't tell me you're doing this again. What more could you possibly have to order? How much things does one woman need?" His voice is an air warmer than the last time they were in this very same position, but she tries not to think too hard about it. Their relationship is too confusing these days, as temperamental as the sea.

"Are delivery men allowed to complain this much when they're doing a job they are getting paid for?" She snarks back, snatching her packages from his arms with a huff. Ignoring the grin on his face as she disappears into her house.

"That better be all you order. I'm not coming back."

He comes back. At least six more trips, more boxes each time on the last day he doesn't simply leave after making his delivery.

"I'm coming in for tea because of you I've been working too hard." She squeaks indignantly as he pushes past her, their shoulders brushing in the tight space of the doorway.

She should wait until she doesn't have an audience but she's too impatient so while he's making the tea in her kitchen (so rude and intrusive), she starts to open a few boxes pulling out the contents. Dresses, blouses, shirts, hair accessories, lipsticks in all shades and hues, and of course shoes; heels, flats and everything in between.

"Your house looks like a department store." She jumps at his voice glancing up at him, almost laughing at the hedgehog mug that he's drinking out of that Mi-seon gave her as a joke. Leave it to him to pick the most ridiculous mug.

"Hurry up and go so I can try everything on." She starts to take the objects out and organize them, putting together possible outfits lazily.

"Why not have a fashion show?" He slurps loudly at the tea, sighing and smiling down at the warm beverage. Acting like he's never had tea before, such a plebian.

"A fashion show?"

"Yeah, model all that", he motions to the new boxes littering her bedroom floor, "and I'll let you know what looks good."

She scoffs, loudly looking at his lackluster outfit; a simple white tee tucked into dark cargo pants with suspenders.

"What do you know about fashion?" She replies meanly, despite the little voice in her mind that reminds her that while his outfits are more practical than fashionable there is something distracting about the way his shoulders fill out his shirts and the way his long legs sit in his pants.

He shrugs looking down at himself, "I'm the town handy man I have no need to look good. But I'm still a man I can tell you what I think looks good on a woman."

Oh. It's a nonchalant statement said with no real heat but the implications make her skin warm up, she's never once thought that he saw her as a woman; nor considered looking at him like a man. (Lies.)

"I--why woul--why?" She stutters through an answer, tongue heavy in her mouth. He looks back nonplussed, sitting down pointedly on her couch.

"Never took you for the shy kind. You growing bashful now Ms. Dentist?" His eyes twinkle with mischief and she knows that she's being played but she wants nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face. Slamming her room door, she pulls off her casual house clothes and grabs the first thing that catches her attention- a buttery yellow dress that grazes her knee, pairing them with white heels and a high messy bun. A swipe of lip tint completes the look and she confidently opens her room door.

Du-sik is staring aimlessly at his phone and doesn't notice her reappearance at first, so she coughs loudly folding her arms and when his eyes land on her, a chill runs down her spine at the look that lands on her body. It's been a long time since a man looked at her in this way, his eyes are undressing her even though he was the one who implored her to dress up in the first place. She hates it. At least she should hate it. But she can't ignore the satisfaction that washes over her at his dumbfounded look, that smug look obliterated by her very first look.

"Well?" She pushes harder, twirling to give him the full look. His gasp is loud behind her, she knows exactly why. The deep revealing plunge that travels all the way to the small of her back. There's no way she would wear this to the convention much too suggestive but that's her business.

"Wher-" his voice cracks and this time she can't contain her smile, dimples flashing now at her clear affect on him, clearing his throat he tries again, "Where exactly are you going again?"

She hums turning back around, gleeful at the vibrant blush on his cheeks. So he is just a man after all.

"A dentist convention." She answers cheekily and he guffaws loudly, eyes narrowing at her like he knows exactly what she's trying to do. They stare at each other for a long moment and she ultimately breaks the stand still, realizing what's happening. It feels a lot like flirting.

Collecting herself, she barrels back into the room.

"What the hell are you doing?" She whispers to her reflection, face too flushed for her liking.

A hard knock at the door pulls her from her self chastisement, "You didn't even wait for my rating."

She sighs loudly covering her face in embarrassment at her own action. She doesn't even have alcohol to blame this time.

"I don't care. This was stupid, let's stop."

Of course he ignores her.

"I liked it. But it's too...sexy for convention. You should wear that for someone special. I doubt anyone with a beating heart would be able to resist you."

What the fuck.

This isn't who they are, when did they become comfortable enough for conversations like this? They despised each other, right? Confused and annoyingly flattered, she peels the dress off her body trying her hardest not to think about the fact that only a door separates him and her naked body.

"I would love to see the others. But I have to go, but if you want my opinion. Red is definitely your color."

"What?" She replies, but she can hear the too loud click of the front opening and then closing and just as capriciously as he arrived, he leaves. 

Burying something that feels a lot like disappointment she flops onto her bed, head fuzzy like its been wrapped in cotton.

"What is going on?"

They don't see much of each other the next day and it's unusual given how much they see each other on a regular basis but she refuses to think about it or even consider that he's avoiding her. He's just busy and she doesn't care anyway, they have nothing to do with each other.

The convention is in two days now, she has her overnight bag packed with all her new purchases and the messages have been pouring in their group chat. She's mostly chosen to ignore them but on a whim she decides to check what they're so excited about, only to feel her stomach drop.

Why isn't Hye Jin answering?

Maybe she's busy with her mystery man 😉

Oh! She has to bring him, we need to interrogate him!

Yoon Hye Jin don't pretend you don't see these messages!!

That she had forgotten about.

"Why did you tell them that he's interested in you? Has living here altered your brain, you idiot." She berates herself.

"Who's interested in you? Why are you an idiot?" Mi-seon looks curious from the doorway, without waiting for an invitation she hops onto the bed with two cans of beer. She grabs one, drinking it in a flash.

"Oh it's that kind of night." Mi-seon says excitedly running to grab more beers.

"So let me get this straight, you told them that Chief Hong is interested in you and that he's been chasing you but you're not interested?"

She nods meekly, wishing the floor would swallow her up.

"Why did you lie?"

That's the brunt of the issue, she's a liar. She should have sent her initial message and told them that there was nothing between them but how could she when they were all calling him handsome and acting like she finally did something right? She'd spent that entire dinner feeling like her teenage self on the outside looking in, wanting nothing more than to be someone worthy of being included.

"I know I should have told the truth."

"Yes, you should have told them that you're interested in him too."

Huh.

Time stops as she processes the words that her best friend just uttered. There is static in her head as she tries to make sense of it.

"What are you talking about?"

Mi-seon looks at her unimpressed.

"You can both keep lying to yourself but the rest of us aren't as stupid. You're both interested in each other. It's mutual."

She wants to ardently deny the accusation but the words are caught in her throat and all she can manage are refusing sounds.

"You've been wearing red all week." Mi-seon says accusingly and she jumps up in huff, "So what? I'm allowed to wear colors!"

"You hate wearing red. You said it makes your skin look too pale. You hardly ever wear it. So color me surprised when I learned that red is the favorite color of a certain part timer."

That damn town chat. There has to be a way to get Mi-seon out of it. Maybe it was a mistake letting her live here. She was learning too much.

"Don't even bother to deny it. I won't believe anything you say. But I think you should ask him to go with you, you'll get some time alone to figure this out."

There's nothing to figure out. They are..... acquaintances who can admit that the other is vaguely attractive at times. His face isn't all that bad and she's pretty, so it's natural that there is tension at times, like he said they were still humans.

So she doesn't tell him about her fib, pretending everything is fine until it's the day of the convention and her anxiety has all but smothered her and her hands have a slight tremble in them as she starts to drive.

"It's going to be fine. Everything will be okay." She doesn't believe a word she's saying to herself, her heart is thumping in her heaving chest. She doesn't want to go alone. Convincing Mi-seon to leave was a failed endeavour, her and that police officer becoming inseparable. She knew what that smile meant when her best friend had realized that she would have the house to herself. She could barely get a word in as Mi-seon started frantically shaving her legs then pushed her out of the bathroom to "shave her wild cat".

With a sigh she starts driving, the car too quiet despite what she'd told Du-Sik and the Gongjin grannies. Uncharacteristically she turns on the radio, kpop blaring from the speakers. She recognizes the tune, never before has something as mundane as butter seemed so interesting but the kitchen essential was given new life by the song. She bops her head to the catchy beat, trying to ignore the fact that she's driving to the lion's den.

Some time later, she pulls into the hotel a valet already coming over to get her car. Grabbing her overnight bag, she exits the car handing her keys to the waiting hands of the valet.

Everyone is here and none of them had come alone, she was the only one without a plus one. They haven't noticed her yet so she watches as they all laugh at a joke she can't hear, unnecessarily stroking at their husband's chests as if to show off their exorbitantly priced wedding rings. Everything was always a competition here.

She shouldn't have come. Their was nothing about her life that they would be envious of. She was going to make a fool of herself. Impulsively she starts stepping back but it's too late, Hong In-A spots her and points her out and immediately all eyes are on her, they all start walking over to her and she wants nothing more than to run far, far away. Get on a bus and go to the beach and never see any of them ever again. But she's no longer a child, no longer that scared little girl; worked too hard to shed that skin.

Fortifying herself she puts on a fake smile. Ready for war.

"Hye-Jin ah, there you are. We were beginning to think you wouldn't come. You never responded in the group chat." Ye-Ri states with an attitude, looking around her as if searching for someone and eyes brightening when she sees no one. "Did you come alone?" This makes all of them perk up, looking around like chickens with their heads clucking. She swallows the shame the question elicits, "Who would I be with? I told you in already, it's not like that."

They all look at her with pity, it makes her want to slap them all across the face. Who were they to make her feel like shit, she didn't need anyone that didn't make her pathetic.

Finally one of the husbands cracks the awkward tension by introducing himself, she tries her best to ignore the pervasive way his eyes run down her body. Instinctively she crosses her arms, feeling naked under his stare. Nobody else notices her discomfort and after all the introductions, they all walk away as if she's no longer worth their time.

Lump in her throat she walks into the hotel, determined not to show them that they've gotten under her skin.

There's a scheduled lunch and she tries to find a new table but Sung-Mi waves her over and she doesn't see anyone else she recognizes or wants to sit with.

He hadn't been wrong, she has no friends besides Mi-seon.

"You were looking around, were you looking for someone? Are we not good enough to sit with?" The question is asked with a bite and sneer as if the idea is laughable that she would ever be better than any of them.

She swallows her pride, "No nothing like that. I was merely looking around."

Sung-Mi looks satisfied as if putting her in her place has righted her world.

They begin a conversation that completely excludes her, regaling drama that she knows nothing about and doing nothing to bring her up to date or invite her to join. It's the polar opposite of her experience in the countryside and with shocking clarity she realizes that she wishes she were there, it's only been a few hours but she misses it. Nobody looks down on her there, no usually she's the only doing that she notes with shame.

"I'll find the restroom." She says to no one because none of them are paying her any mind except the husband with the wandering eyes and she would much rather not have that attention.

Thankfully the bathroom is empty and she has to stop herself from splashing water on her face, her make-up was done perfectly it would be a waste to ruin it. Pushing her hair behind her ears she takes a deep breath and then another until her head is clearer, the noise lessening.

"It's only a day and a night. You've suffered far worst."

With that lacking pep talk she exits the bathroom, almost colliding into a wall. Wait, no it's just a person- a chest to be specific. She looks up ready to apologize when a familiar face stops her in her tracks.

"What are you doing here?" She stares flabbergasted at him, more dressed up than she's ever seen him. In a white suit with a white vest, the tee-shirt peeking under the only thing that feels like him to her. And his white sneakers. She can't hide her surprise at his sudden appearance and without thinking she starts to pull him to the side, to avoid being seen but she's not fast enough and soon they are swarmed by her colleagues, before she even has a chance to talk to him.

"Aren't you the man from the picture?" Yoo-Jin asks blushing way too much for a married woman if her husband's cold stare means anything.

"The picture?" Du-sik replies, clearly confused.

"You're the guy that's chasing after her. She told us that you liked her and you were courting her." Sung-Mi answers for her, she wants to vanish. It would be better if she had never existed. Even non-existence would be better than this embarrassing moment. "I got a picture of you two last time, when you followed her."

His eyes ping-pong between the group and her and she realizes this is his chance to ruin her. After everything she's done, all her rude comments and snobby remarks about the town and people he cares for so much, this is his chance for revenge. He can laugh and deny any feelings for her, tell them all that she's a liar and he's never been interested in her, not even once. This is what is going to happen. She prepares herself for the fall out, surely after this she won't be able to show her face in Seoul again.

He starts to laugh and her stomach tightens, her palms are so sweaty.

Here it goes.

"Oh I guess she wanted to keep me a secret."

Wait. What. That doesn't sound like denial.

"We're together now. I finally bulldozed those walls and made her mine. Nice to meet you all I'm Hong Du-sik, Hye-Jin ah's boyfriend."

Her eyes widen as he bows and starts to shake hands with the husbands, the one that stared at her looking disappointed. Their handshake goes on for a second too long, eventually with the latter pulling away with a pained look. She's too confused to consider what that means.

"And you were so cold earlier saying you had no one. Did you want to make a fool of us?"

He answers for her, "It's nothing like that, my honey is still getting used to us. I'm sorry I'm so late I had something to take care of."

Her head is spinning too fast to keep up with everything happening and she's grateful when he excuses them and guides her outside with a large hand on her hip.

Fresh air is much appreciated and she takes in huge heaps of it as soon as they're free.

Then reality crashes down on her.

He knows about her lying.

He had called her bluff.

But he didn't out her.

"Why didn't you tell them the truth?" She finally manages to say, head still reeling.

But instead of answering he's staring at her legs, then slowly his eyes swivel upward cross her thighs curving around her hips, past her breasts (a bit too slow there) before moving to her collar and settling on her face.

"You look great."

She feels the heat rushing to her face. What was he doing to her?

It hadn't been in purpose but she finds herself in red again, an a line dress with criss crossing straps over her shoulder and a middle slit. It was conservative without being too formal or professional. She'd felt comfortable in it but now seeing that look on his face, comfort is the last thing she feels.

He was distracting her and she couldn't afford that with those harpies inside waiting for her downfall. They needed to get back on track.

"What are you doing here?" She tries again, but he responds with his own question, "Why did you tell them that I was chasing you?"

"It was a mistake. They thought we were together and I just....said that for no reason." It's half the truth.

"They don't seem like your friends. You looked like you needed someone on your side, so I just found myself saying we were together for no reason."

She looks at him blankly, heart pounding now. In her moment of weakness instead of kicking her, he'd lended a helping hand. What kind of person did it make her for expecting the former?

"So what now?" She asks still in disbelief that he's here and that he'd told people that there were dating, she would be angry and offended later that they had readily believed it. Perhaps it didn't seem too farfetched now with him looking like that right now.

"Well, don't look but they're watching us through the glass."

This time she finds herself turning to look and he's the one that has to stop her, he does so by suddenly grabbing her hand and tugging her into his body. She squeaks at the collision. Leaning down so his lips are level with her ear, he speaks, "We can give them a show. I'm happy to be your pretend boyfriend."

Why?

She yearns to ask him why he's willing to go this far for her? Why was he even here when she had never told him where the convention was taking place? But his words were hot on her ear and she's tired of being their source of entertainment so she nods looking up at him, "Just this once. I'm going to lean on you. Let me borrow your eraser and copy your homework."

He stares before a blinding smile graces his handsome face.

"Let's go then." His hand is heavy on her waist as he walks back towards the hotel, taking his role very seriously it seems.

He fits in perfectly. Able to talk about a plethora of topics to anyone he's introduced to and even she's impressed by him. Be it travel, philosophy or poetry he seems well versed in everything things that even she is ignorant to and it makes her regret the way she looked down on him before, he was anything but a country bumpkin.

She leaves him to his conversation to get a drink, a whiskey on the rocks. Needing something hard tonight.

Not that. Down brain.

"Yoon Hye Jin? I would recognize that face anywhere."

Twisting to face the voice, she sees a familiar face- old classmate. Rung Do-Bae, they weren't anything more than classmates despite his many, many attempts.

His eyes sweep over her hungrily. She swallows her drink, painting on a shallow smile.

"Sunbae, how nice to see you here."

Invading her space he grabs her hand, "There is no need for such formalities. You can just call me by my name, Hye Jin ah."

As if she ever would.

Gently she tries to extract her hand but he won't let go and she doesn't want to make a scene.

Suddenly she's warmed by a body pressing into her, she knows who it is without even looking, her body relaxes immediately.

"Sorry I got lost in conversation honey. Who might this be? Another friend of yours?" He thrusts his right hand out and Do-Bae has no choice but to release her hand to return his handshake. Scarily enough she's starting to become used to his nickname, barely reacting to him using it again.

"Yes, this is my sunbae from school. Sunbae this is Hong Du Sik my....."

She knows that this is all an act, they were doing this to help her but she can't bring her tongue to form around the word, boyfriend.

"Her boyfriend." He finishes for her, pulling her tighter to his body.

But Do-Bae looks suspicious now.

"Boyfriend? I thought you were still single. You never changed your status on SNS. I've checked."

"Why are you so curious about that?" Du-sik challenges in return, doing a great job of sounding like a jealous boyfriend. She's almost even convinced.

"Hye Jin ah and I have always had a very special relationship. Beyond that of a hoobae and sunbae. Isn't that right?" He directs the last bit to her and she feels Du-sik stiffen next to her, seemingly believing these lies. So she clears that up.

"I have no idea what you're referring to honestly. We have never had anything that would constitute as a "special" relationship. I would appreciate if you didn't spread such lies, especially to my boyfriend. Enjoy the rest of your night."

She tugs Du-sik away, not waiting for a reply from the other man. The conversation was over anyway.

When they get far enough he speaks, "You have a lot of admirers."

She raises an eyebrow at the non-sequitur.

"Are you surprised?"

He brushes a hand across her cheek, making her freeze.

"No. It makes sense."

She blinks slowly before laughing, it sounds fake even to her ears.

"You should have been an actor. Your acting skills are incredible." He doesn't laugh, doesn't move before they're pulled into another conversation and she tries not to think about how tightly his body is pressed against her own.

"How is he in bed? He hasn't left you alone all day, I bet it's passionate." As soon as lunch had ended they had invited her to a spa, she'd considered saying no but she knew they would talk about her even if she wasn't there so it was best to at least know what they were saying.

Du-sik looked sad to see her go, but she told herself that she wasn't good at reading his faces. They hardly knew each other.

"I can't remember the last time I had a passionate night of sex. Kids and a full time job, leave no time for that. I'm pretty sure he's cheating on me and I'm too tired to even care." Sung-Mi confesses and she's shocked when the others nod in agreement instead of threatening to castrate him, as she'd done when Mi-seon told her about her ex boyfriend cheating.

"I have no complaints. He's... attentive. He's always touching me and pushing his way into my space. He's gentle but passionate, and I like...that he's so much bigger than me." She knows she should stop, this is definitely taking the lies too far. But that night bleeds into her thoughts, making everything she's saying feel true. He'd been so gentle with her, those huge hands cupping her face. She wondered how they would feel on other parts of her body.

"Damn. Look at you getting horny just from remembering. I'm so jealous."

Jealous. There were envious of her, it was all she'd been hoping for but the happiness she expected to erupt never comes. Instead she feels cheap, like she'd used Du-sik for her own benefit. She had tainted that night. This wasn't what she wanted.

As the day had gone on she found herself looking at him too much, he'd come all the way just for her and regardless of her brain trying to minimize that, it was huge. He hated snobby people like them who based a person's worth in their monetary success and yet he put on a smile and chatted with everyone, letting them mock his way of life and call people like him useless dreamers. All while she did nothing to defend him and drank wine, happy that they were being accepted.

He was the perfect gentleman all day and he was getting nothing in return for this. It was all just to help her.

Would a friend truly go this far to help? Was she being naive or was it like Mi-seon said, was she lying to herself?

"I'm such an idiot."

Without another word, she flees the sauna rushing to the locker room and changing back into her clothes. Nobody follows her because they aren't her friends. Why had she wasted so much time trying to impress these people who aren't even truly happy in their own lives?

The drive back is long, and she doesn't know what she's going to say but she knows that she's tired of being scared.

Leaving the key in the car she rushes past the valet, into the hotel elevator pressing their floor and waiting impatiently.

It takes three tries to get into their hotel room but once the door opens, he's right there. Sitting in the seat by the window reading a book.

"You're back early. I thought you would be gone until three?" He looks up, dog earring his book and giving her his full attention. Her heart skips a beat.

"Why did you agree to do this for me? Why go through all this trouble for me?"

It's the same question he's been asking himself since he first met her. Why was he was interested in her and why did he keep wanting to save her?

It was the desire that led to him being here.

He had accidentally overhead Mi-seon talking to Eun Chol about being worried about her, the convention was overnight and everyone would be bringing someone and she'd be all alone. The thought of her alone and isolated, made him race to her without a plan. Only stopping at a store to buy his outfit so he would fit in with her crowd, he'd spent more in that shop then he usually did in a week. But it was worth it for her.

It was a miracle that she hadn't questioned his presence more, he knew it was shameless and deceiving but none of this felt like pretending to him. His jealousy had been real, he'd had to strangle the urge to kick the pervert husband with the wandering eyes and then the insistent sunbae who wouldn't take a hint. She was a vision in the red dress and it wasn't a surprise that men found her enchanting, he just didn't like them looking at her. But she wasn't his, never would be because he couldn't confess.

They weren't right for each other.

"Do you like me?"

That question again. Last time he had laughed it off, called it absurd. But it wasn't. Not liking her would have been absurd.

"I don't know why you're asking me that."

"Because I'm tired of us lying to ourselves. Don't laugh and don't you dare say it's absurd again."

He can't respond, he's stuck on the word "us". It wasn't just him, they were an us?

Hearing that gives him courage he had long thought had been most forever.

"I wasn't pretending today. Nothing was fake to me, I meant it all." It's terrifying, unchartered land for them and he waits to see which one of them will chicken out first. It's sure to happen.

"I'm going to kiss you." She says instead of running like he expected and secretly wished for.

And then she's crossing the room and leaning down to grab his face, she watches him giving him a chance to pull away but he does the opposite, this time he meeting her half way. As soon as their lips meet the kiss is already too much, she's sliding into his lap and he wraps his arms around her tugging her closer until their chests are squished together.

He hasn't kissed anyone like this in a long time.

Hasn't been this close to losing control in a longer time.

"You're dangerous." He whispers into her mouth and she giggles at the statement, wiggling in his arms and rolling into him forcing a punched out groan from his lips.

Carefully he lifts her shirt watching her face closely for any signs that she wants to stop but finding nothing but her palpable lust.

Her skin is unbelievably smooth and soft and he can't stop himself from stroking her, rubbing at her back his hands resting right above her butt.

"How long have you felt this way?" She asks softly seductively nipping at his neck and running a hand over his shirt to caress his stomach, he physically aches for her.

"I wanted you the moment I saw you. But I didn't feel this until you convinced grandma to get her implants. That was when it became more for me."

She looks surprised and he is too, that they're speaking so candidly about feelings they've always denied.

"What about you?"

She stops licking at his neck to look him in the eyes. He's nervous to hear her reply.

"I.... don't know."

He tries to hide his disappointment. Maybe she was starting to retreat back into her shell. Maybe he shouldn't have been so honest.

He's about to untangle them when she continues, "It wasn't at first sight but one day I found myself looking for you. Seeing you become the best part of my day, I started to count on you to be there for me. To expect it. Just like this, I've been scared to lean on anyone until I met you."

Now that's a confession.

Impulsively he stands with her still on his lap, forcing her to to latch onto him so she doesn't tumble to the floor. Not that this would ever happen because he would never let her fall.

"I could have fell!" She cries, clinging to his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist. Her half naked bra clad body so close to him is causing another biological crisis in his pants.

Walking to the large bed in the middle of the room he falls backwards, enjoying the view of her on top of him a little too much.

It's all probably too soon and they should probably slow down, but his body is strumming and he wants nothing more than to break her apart.

"I'm all sweaty. I should take a shower."

Instantly an image of her wet and naked under the downpour of a shower flashes in his mind and he has to twist away from her.

"Pervert." She accuses but he can hear how satisfied she is with his reaction. Damn tease.

"Do you want to join me?" She teases some more, having fun now that she knows her power over him.

He looks at her helplessly.

"Are you having fun? Remember what I told you before? I'm still a guy. You're sitting here in your bra taunting me, do you think I'm that much of a good guy? Do you think I don't want to throw you down, rip your clothes off and eat you alive? I'm so hard right now just seeing you naked would be enough to push me over the edge. So don't make propositions you can't follow through on."

She looks dizzy from his words, eyes hooded and glossy. He watches her gulp and then stagger off to the bathroom, without a word to him. It's probably for the best, everything is too charged right now.

A shower for her and many glasses of water for him later, she's back and it's almost time for dinner.

"I think they said dinner starts at 6. Should we head down?"

She glances at him, while opening her bag and pulling out skin creams and some fuzzy socks.

"Would you be opposed to ordering room service and staying here?"

It's the best offer he's heard all day, only second to her asking if he wanted to join her in the shower.

"What about your colleagues?" He asks to make certain that she's really okay with this.

"What about them?" She replies with a shrug and he grins picking up the room service menu.

They order too much food and not enough alcohol but neither of them want to forget this night. She tells him stories about her time in dental school and he's happy to get to know her better, chuckling at the funny stories and commiserating at the sad ones.

Before he knows it night has fallen.

And he realizes that they'll be sharing a bed. Unless she wants him to sleep on the couch.

She's wearing a big shirt and loose shorts and he still can't believe he gets to see her like this.

"Are you coming to bed?" She's already getting under the sheet and that answers his question, this is really happening. He starts to follow her lead, getting under the sheets but keeping a respectable distance between them.

"I'm cold." She announces suddenly and he starts to look for a thermostat in the room or an extra blanket, before realizing that she's looking at him over her shoulder, he stares back confused before she lifts an eyebrow and oh, he gets it. Carefully moving closer he feels her warmth surround him as they meet, forth to back.

"Took you long enough." She grumbles, pulling his arm over here body and settling back into him moving until she's comfortable.

She's so close and warm and her smell is all around him and he feels his restraint dissolving and when she presses back into him, her hip rubbing against his crotch he bites down on his bottom lip.

It's too much for him to resist and without warning or preamble, he's turning her to face him and swallowing her moan of surprise eagerly. He grabs her head firmly holding her in place and slips his tongue into her open mouth, her unique taste exploding on his taste buds. He's hungry for more. So he starts to tug down her shorts, heart beat thundering in his groin. She kicks the shorts away, and he groans at the sight of her panties she was trying to kill him, he was certain.

"You're the devil." He chokes out staring at red lace, he'll never be able to see the color again without getting a raging hard on.

"You haven't seen anything yet. Honey." The word drips from her tongue just like the real thing.

Forgetting all reason and logics he lunges at her, devouring her mouth and sticking his hand in her panties. She's so warm and fuck, wet drenching his fingers.

Simultaneously he thrusts his tongue into her mouth and his fingers in her wet folds, groaning as she melts like butter under his touch. There's no resistance, as he plunges two fingers inside her experimentally before picking up his place when she clutches onto him and grinds back on his fingers, begging the whole time.

"More, more, please!"

As if he could ever deny her anything, with one hand he grabs her ass and the other he thrusts into her opening over and over until her voice gets breathy and she starts to stutter, squirming wildly in his arms and he knows exactly what's coming: the beautiful end. So without warning he pulls back the sheet and slithers down her body, throwing her legs around his head and pushing his tongue in to the brim, hungrily drinking at her until she shakes and combusts in his arms. Sweet on his tongue, he swallows it all greedily.

He strokes her as she recovers from her high, climbing back up her body. So much for taking things slow, but he can't even think about regretting it when he sees the blissed out look on her face. He wants to imprint it in his mind. Nobody else will ever get to see this face but him.

"It's your turn." She says sounding loopy like she's drunk and he laughs as she reaches for the tent in his pants but misses his bulge and instead falls into him.

"You're tired. Go to sleep. That was enough for me, seeing you like that fulfilled every fantasy I've had. "

He truly means it. He's a giver. And it's not like he can't tug one out later in the bathroom with her face and moans playing on repeat in his brain.

She starts to argue, but her phone vibrating on the nightstand distracts her. Reaching over she picks it up before chuckling and flopping back into the bed.

"What?" He asks curious, jealous of whoever is making her smile like that.

Ignorant to his inner thoughts, she thrusts her phone into his face. The room is so dark it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright lighting of the phone, but once he can see he reads the message on her phone and starts to laugh too.

"Dusik is missing! Nobody has seen him all day!! We started a search party."

[themysteriousauthor18]

Android Alastor oneshot [Radiodust]

Saw this art of Angel making an Android Alastor. Thought it was a really cool idea and wanted to make a oneshot of it!

Artist of the AMAZING art above:

The darkness slowly faded away, and something not bright, but a little less dark took its place. 

It's vision focused, a blurry image focusing itself down to the finer details. A warmer color invaded his vision, one that his brain came to know as...pink. This 'pink' seemed to cover most of the interior of the room. 

And as a pair of eyes looked around, it took note of the tiles on the floor, the cooler temperature, and metallic walling. 

A basement.

It's mind concluded. 

A small room within a basement, an empty chair seat in front of them, and a desk noticeably messy to their left were what caught its attention. It was unable to turn its head very much, or even it's body. But from its angle, it could barely make out what appeared to be skeptics of a robot to the left wall, just over the desk.

I want to move.

It thought. Pulling against what felt to be restraints, but decided it was best not to. Lest they damage anything. 

It's prying came to a halt when it picked up the soft tapping of shoes against the flooring. In the dim lighting, they could see a shadow drawing closer to the entrance of the room archway. 

They only patiently waited, eyes focusing in on the outline of something coming to a pause in the doorway. 

No, someone. 

They corrected. 

A human, and one quite disheveled. Blonde hair hastily tied back into a pony-tail. A white labcoat lazily draped around their arms leaving the tank top exposed. Their legs dressed in pink and purple stockings for small black heeled boots to cover their feet. 

This human seemed rather distressed. For once they saw the pair of eyes looking at them, they suddenly dropped the mug in their hands causing the brownish liquid to pour out onto the floor. 

Hands flying up to cover their mouth and wide green eyes staring in shock, they took a step closer. "Oh my god.." They muttered. 

Its head tilted as it examined the human furthur, smiling. 

The blonde-haired human was practically jogging in their spot, grinning once they removed their hands. 

"Holy shit it worked! O-okay okay okay..." They calmed themselves quickly hopping back into their chair and looking up into those eyes. Their chair swayed with them as they moved, resting hands between their legs.

"System AI begin start-up." They said barely containing the excitement in their voice.

The being was confused as its vision was suddenly invaded by multiple warnings, notifications, and many other things of which they didn't understand. After a moment or two, they cleared away. Leaving it's vision clear once more. 

Looking back down at the human who was lightly bouncing in the chair, eyes sparkling with anticipation he waited for them to say something else. 

"Alright-do you know who I am?" They asked, expression falling a little as if nervous.

The being tilted their head, eyes tracing over the person's body. Focusing in on little details such as the adam's apple in their throat, hair color, skin color, voice, and many other details.

After a moment, the being spoke. "You are Anthony Giuliani. A 23-year-old male. You are 69% Italian and 40%-"

Before it could finish its sentence the man sprung off from his seat practically jumping for joy.

"Holy shit it works! YOU work!" 

"Your heart rate has increased by 20%." 

The blonde paused in his celebratory victory and looked to the being. A frown played on his lips as he scratched his head. 

"Your tawking like your a robot. Damn...I thought I made you deviant. Shit guess it's somethin' well have to work on." He shook his head moving over to the wall and pressing something.

With a faint beeping the being felt something distracted itself from its back. It stood a little more freely now, nothing, in particular, holding it in place anymore. 

Taking a step back, the Italian moved over to pick up the mug he'd originally dropped. Setting it on his desk he turned back to the being, coat lazily draping around his hips as he rested his hands there.

"Alright...first of all, call me Angel. Angel Dust. Got it?"

The being blinked a few times, a small red circle on its temple blinking with them. "Yes. Angel Dust." It repeated in a mono-toned voice. 

The man looked annoyed by the tone but said nothing. "Second, what do you want your name to be?" 

The being stared, confused. 

"That is not in my function." It simply stated.

Angel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay look. YOU are an android. I made you, but you're to..." he paused trying to find the right words. "Robotic. I can't have a boyfriend whose all emotionless and robily." 

" 'Robily' is not a real word." 

The blonde scoffed. "Well, there's a start." He turned away, being mindful of the pool of coffee on the floor. "I'll be right back, take a look around. Just don't go too far." 

"Very well." It stated. 

Once the human left, the android quietly turned to look around the room, no longer restrained. 

Looking at it from this angle, the android realized it was not quite just a room but a lab more accurately put. Shelves of books and a few trophies lined some of the walls. While for the rest mainly consisted of boxes holding various android parts. 

A whiteboard lay on the main wall of the room, opposite to the wall the desk lay in front of. Equations and measurements were drawn all over the board. Some even rough illustrations of a model. 

It turned and walked over to the desk, having a clearer vision of the schematic hanging over the desk he could now see there was something written on it.

'Project AL4570R Aka the perfect boyfriend.'

It read.

  ...[.Decoding.]...

.....[.Result: Alastor ]....

...[Update: Name may be Alastor]...

...[Gender: Male?]...

It turned away, finding that its hands rested behind its back. A motion that felt comfortable for it. 

Stepping back over near the entrance, a standing mirror greeted it.

As it looked at the reflection, it's head tilted to the side at the image. Not a human greeted it, but rather a tall.....deer man? 

Simply put it was a deer man.

More intricately put, they looked to be human safe for the large pair of red eyes, and deer ears all to obviously attached to the tops of its head. Its hair was a crimson red, the tips being a dark black, it's skin some shade of brown almost greyish. 

With the monocle over one of its eyes, black gloves, and the black to red tailcoat, it both wore and made up its body, gave it a more refined appearance. The small bow tie on its neck seemed to somehow bring it all together. 

"I'm back." 

Its head turned immediately as a machine would to a sound as the human entered back. A mop in his hand. 

"Already like looking at yourself huh?" Angel joked, noticing the androids staring at the mirror. 

Not replying to the comment, the android turned as Angel mopped up the spilled coffee. 

"You had said 'boyfriend'. My knowledge tells me that is a term associated with men in a non-platonic relationship. So am I a male then." 

Pausing in the mopping, Angel leaned on its handle smiling to the android. "Well look at you gettin' all smart and shit. Let's see, do you know your name too?" 

The human continued to mop up the mess. 

"Alastor." The android stated.

Putting the mob aside, the mess is picked up, the human turned towards the android almost impressed. 

"Bingo. Now, I'm gonna need to run some tests. See how your internal hard drive is and make sure the pump is regulating that blue blood enough so you don't die on me. That be annoyin' to deal with." The blonde muttered to himself sidestepping the android.

Alastor watched curiously as the human shuffled through his papers on the desk. 

Those large red eyes scanned the room once again, landing on something they handed seen before. 

A small box sitting beside the desk some old song playing through it. With its interest peaked, Alastor moved over to the desk once more kneeling down because it was rather tall, and peered at the small box.

Angel paused and looked over to the android, smiling a little. "Do you like that?" 

The android poked at the box. "My scanners tell me this device is called a radio." 

An amused laugh came from the human as he sat down in his chair at the desk. Moved his hand over to switch the dial and by extension the channel. 

The android's ears moved back at the sudden noise. "Huh, that's fuckin' adorable," Angel muttered, fascinated. Turning his attention back to the radio, "yeah but I keep it in here sometimes just to listen to music." 

The android repeated the same motion, switching the dails. Its eyes growing in amazement. 

Angel laughed as the android continued to fiddle with it. 

"Maybe your more of a deviant than I thought." 

[growup-thatbeautiful]

drive is out now!! It’s a Post Season Harringrove Hurt/Comfort and I’m pretty proud of it. Read it on ao3 here or below the cut. Likes and comments are very very much appreciated :))

Billy doesn’t drive after starcourt. Something about being behind the wheel makes him sick with memories that he can’t understand. They’re abstract and totally unreliable.

But it’s kind of always been like that for him. He's used to having gaps in his memories, except most of the time it’s because of trauma. Or that’s what Joyce tells him and the rest of them whenever they have nightmares about things they don’t remember happening.

He's been living with the Byers and El. He tries to be useful around the house, doing whatever he can because he really doesn’t have anywhere else to go. It’s hard, though. It seems like everything he does, he does wrong. He never had to learn how to fold sheets or clean dishes. Not only was neil hargrove terribly homophobic, but also misogynistic, which is a word joyce taught him because she teaches all her kids that stuff. And he’s one of her kids now. So, yeah. Neil never had Billy do the chores because “he’s not a true man, but he sure as shit isn’t a woman.”

It's alarming how quickly this odd family replaces his old one. Neil seems miles away. Neil doesn’t try to look for Billy, and that’s fine as far as Billy's concerned. He's got scars to cover up the ones Neil made. no need to dwell on that when he has so much other trauma to process., right? Kind of.

He does check up on max. Asks her if neils pulling any of the shit he used to get from his dad. double checks for bruises hidden under makeup or long sleeves, and never finds any. Good.

Joyce is good. great, even. She doesn’t blame him when he breaks a dish because he heard a noise. She listens when he says he needs some alone time, and she knows when he’s just saying that. She gives good hugs and has no problem giving him Jonathan's old room to stay in while he’s off at college. leaving Hawkins behind him, calling every night anxiously awaiting the return of It. Nothing happens, and eventually they relax. Or they try to. That part of billy’s been broken for a long time, though.

So Joyce starts fading into memories of his mom, and he tries not to blame her.

Again. He's never had a great memory anyway. He does remember his mom telling him that boys don’t marry other boys when he was five and told her he wanted to marry his best friend. Then she told him never to tell his dad. It's strange, because he can’t remember her saying that she loved him, even though he’s sure she did. Did she? Huh.

At least the painful memories he gets to keep. Neil beating’s. Beating up on Harrington that night he didn’t know what was going on. The car crash before his mind was taken from him. Max’s terrible scream of “Billy” mixed in with the ear-ringing pain. Waking up in a hospital with starburst scars across his body. Skin that isn’t his. They remind him not to get to comfortable, remind him that the kindness he’s being shown isn’t well earned.

Because Billy knows he wasn’t worth those hospital bills and sleepless nights. All he’s done to the people here is hurt and scar and he’s seen them with the deepest kind of fear in their eyes. Fear because of him.

Everytime he goes down a path like this, he tries to stay clear of everyone. Because. They all tried to hide how much hurt he’s caused. They don’t blame him like they should.

He didn’t know any of them well before. But he knows El didn’t always carry around that police badge or look up at every siren, praying for a familiar face only to be disappointed and try not to show it. Because if Billy survived, couldn’t the more-deserving Hopper? Apparently not.

He knows Joyce didn’t always search for Will in every setting and have those folded up pictures of the two men that died because of all the shitty things that happened. Because she can’t stand to forget their faces or not carry that burden for just a second.

Will didn’t always get quiet every time a draft went through the room or refuse to go out that front door first. Because so many things have been ruined for him.

The rest of the kids didn’t always jump at every noise or bunch together for every corner, carrying lucky momentous and items. Because God forbid they have a break.

He doesn’t see them a lot, but Nancy and Jonathan definitely didn’t carry around an emergency kit everywhere they went, packed with medical supplies and Nancy’s choice gun. Because they’re going to be there to help if anything tries to take another person they loves away.

Some part of Billy reasons that it’s not all his fault. He wasn’t one of those scientists or government agents that started the whole thing.

But he did enough. Enough to warrant all the shit that he’s going through. It’s not the healthiest way of thinking, he’s aware of that, but it helps him get by.

No matter how hard he tries, though, there’s always someone at the house that finds him. Curled up into a ball, dry hitching sobs and no tears because “Hargrove men don’t cry.” Billy gets damn close sometimes, but the fear that Neil’s going to come out from the cracks in the wall and kick him where he lays is too real.

There are usually soft words.

“We don’t blame your here, honey. That wasn’t you, that did all that stuff. And I’m not going to let anything else bad happen to the people under this roof.” Joyce’s strong and sure voice, only breaking at the edges.

“I know what it’s like to have him control you like that. I know better than anyone else, and I know how scary it is. Mom says it’s over now, though, and I can’t feel It anymore. I would tell you first if It came back.” Will never says anything more than that, which is comforting in itself. It’s nice to have someone else.

“They lost. You’re here. I’m here. Will’s here. It is safe.” El’s statement is simple, but she makes it easy to believe.

He believes them until he gets another new memory of what he did. The Mayors blood on the floor. Heather’s petrified screams. Standing before that thing and feeling nothing but a perverse sense of but awe and, buried beneath that, a screaming sense of horror and the constant feeling of slipping in the sand.

There are times, like right now, when he doesn’t want someone to make him feel better. He wants someone who can drive him away from here and sit in an empty parking lot and smoke away the thoughts. Someone like Steve.

He would do it himself. He would. But he can’t. Can’t get over that fucking gas pedal. So he calls Steve.

They’ve done this enough times for it to make sense for Billy to have Steve’s number memorized. And his work schedule. And to know when he with Dustin or Robin or any of the others on one of those group outings Billy can’t bring himself to go to. There are too many sad faces, too many broken homes.

It doesn’t matter what he wears. It’s just Steve, and they’ve gotten past the point of caring about things like that.

Which. Is obvious to anyone who looks at Billy, not that he sees anyone. He’s lost a lot of weight. Muscles that used to be defined are gone, replaced by scars. He can’t get them back yet, because he’s not strong enough to lift any of them. And because muscles like that can hurt and hit. His eyes are surrounded by heavy bags, bloodshot and tired. The new callouses on his hands are mostly scars from anxiety ridden breakages, and the pained nails are because El wanted to try the new dark blue out. His hair is greasy and flat, nowhere near what it used to be. It hangs around his shoulders in curled waves, so far from where he used to be.

He doesn’t even try to smile to the sad reflection in the mirror.

Steve doesn’t honk when he arrives. The first time he did that and the noise sent Billy spiraling, and Steve had felt terrible, cussing up a storm that actually helped Billy out of it. Luckily, it was just Billy home and no one else was there to witness they’re collective train wreck.

Before he leaves, Billy grabs something from the bathroom and stuffs it in with the rest of the random shit he brings.

Billy slides into the passenger seat, leans his head back against the headrest, and says, “So, Harrington, how you been?”

Steve, mercifully, looks the same as always. He looks good, the asshole. It’s a relief that he’s still able to feel that fire Steve lights up. Different than all the other King’s from California. A few more scars, but they all have that. His shades are pushed through his hair, brown strands flopping over lazily.

“Same as usual, so fairly shitty and on the brink of breakdown. You?” It would be a normal conversation if Steve wasn’t completely serious, corners of his mouth only ticking up when Billy reaches over and bats at the band-aid charm hanging from the mirror. A joke from Billy to say sorry for, you know, almost beating him to death for no real reason.

“Oh, you know.” He doesn’t need to say more for Steve to get the idea. It’s the same way they’ve been feeling for months now.

“Yeah.” The car ride over isn’t far from the Byers’ house, and they spend it in almost silence. Some pop station is playing low on the radio.

“This the shit you listen to, pretty boy? I expected more than this.” It’s an attempt at normalcy, something that they’ve slowly been working up to.

“At least I don’t blast out my eardrums every time I want to listen to music,” replies Steve quickly, smile evident in his tone.

And it’s normal. It’s them. The way they were before it all got so messy. For that brief moment, there’s no winter night or july 4th. For a brief moment Billy can entertain a reality where he went to the find Steve instead of a fight. A world where Steve, with those pretty eyes and snap remarks, could hold his hand and stop him from doing all the bad things in the future.

But the moment passes. Steve clears his throat and looks forward at the road.

They arrive to the quarry, water at the bottom glinting, tossing, teasing. The car doors slam shut, and they slide up on to the front of the car. Billy pulls his last minute grab out of the bag and hands it to Steve.

“I want you to cut my hair.” Steve takes the scissors and towel in his hand, looking at Billy.

He doesn’t ask if Billy’s sure. Billy figures that Steve knows at this point he wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t real. If Billy wasn’t sure. Steve cards a hand through Billy’s hair. It feels. Good. Real good.

Steve starts cutting, and Billy winces at the sound of the scissors closing around his hair. His past.

“I like to think it isn’t just part of me.” The comment comes out of nowhere, surprising Billy more than it surprises Steve.

“What?” Steve’s voice is calm, the sniping of the scissors is methodical.

“The anger. The aggression. The tendency to hurt. I like to think it’s not in my nature, but my nurture.”

“I don’t think you’re violent.” It’s a laughable statement.

“You’re joking. Did you forget most of last year? I’m the one with the bad memory here, Harrington.” Billy can practically hear Steve’s disapproving mother’s frown behind him.

“That wasn’t you.”

“Right, sure, whatever, bullshit. But what about…you know. Last winter.”

“What happened before that?” asks Steve patiently.

“Jesus, you’re worse than Joyce. My dad sent me after Max. Found her at Byers’ place with you. Hurt you a whole fucking lot.”

“Is that all he did? He just told you to go after her?” Billy ignores the way his stomach does flips when Steve runs a hand through Billy’s hair, straightening it out.

“So you’re my fuckin’ therapist now? What do you want me to say? He kissed my head and sent my on my merry way? That’s now how he works. I’ll admit, I was saved by his new wifey. He can’t use me as a punching bag when she’s standing right there, not like he did with mom. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Nothing worse than what you’ve done to me. And the insults weren’t too bad either. He forgot to call me a fag.”

“Oh. Shit, Billy, I-“

“It’s fine,” cuts in Billy, hating the pity in Steve’s voice. He’s not the one who should have it.

“You didn’t deserve that.” This time it does make Billy laugh. It’s a hollow and haunting sound, an echo of his charming boyish laugh.

“Sure I did, dipshit. You’re probably one of the people who knows best why I did, in fact, deserve it.”

“So then I’m the best person. to tell you that you aren’t that person. You haven’t been that person since you left him and all of that shit. Let me ask you something. Do you want to hurt people now?”

“No!” Billy startles himself with his sudden enthusiasm, and Steve jumps a little behind him. Steve is quicker to recover, though, and he runs a hand through the hair he hasn’t cut yet. It’s soothing. Billy barely resists the urge to lean into it. Ask for more.

“Did you ever want to hurt people? Like really, truly want to see them hurt?” Billy has to think about the question. Steve deserves an real answer.

Flashes fly through his mind, bringing on too familiar emotions. Anger, a need to make someone, anyone, feel the way that he’s feeling. Fear that not having this power over people would make him weak. Horror at what he’s about to do. Detachment, painful as he grinned and laughed.

“I just wanted to have control. Take some of the hurt I was feeling and give it to other people. It was a rush that I was addicted to. The thrill of the fight, the feel of flesh against my fist, the look of blood on my knuckles. I liked fighting, still do. I didn’t like hurting people.” Steve puts the scissors down on the car hood, fluffing Billy’s hair and sliding down next to him.

“I’ve been on the wrong side of the fists of two people I’m now okay with,” admits Steve. “Believe me, I know now to take a beating. I’ve been heartbroken by two other people I’m close friends with. I forgive too easily.”

“So you’re a compulsive truster and I’m a compulsive fighter. What a pair we make, huh Harrington?”

“Yeah.” agrees Steve, bumping his shoulder against Billy. “What a pair.”

Maybe it’s the haircut. Maybe it’s the sunlight confessions. Maybe it’s how carefree and happy Steve looks. But Billy feels lighter. Like there was this unspoken weight he had been carrying around that no one knew about. Or everyone knew about, but couldn’t help.

The thing is, Steve didn’t even say anything. He didn’t promise a better future, he didn’t say that he was safe. He shared some of the personal pain they all carry around.

“I don’t think I ever said sorry. I am sorry, you know. I. I didn’t-“

<i>Mean to hurt you. Want to hurt you. Mean to let you see how much I hurt. Want to need you.</i>

“I know. I’m sorry too. Someone should’ve known. About you.” Steve leans closer, and Billy chalks it up to the night chill as the sun settles below the glistening rocks.

“I was good at hiding things I didn’t want people to see.”

“Yeah, well you’re not alone there either.”

“You good at hiding, pretty boy?” Billy’s eyes flick down to Steve’s lips, and, is Billy imagining it or is Steve looking at him the same way?

“Apparently not good enough,” jokes Steve. His smile falls off of his lips, and he leans minutely closer. If Billy wasn’t paying attention to all of Steve…

The way his hair glows white and gold in the sunset. That wrinkle between his brows. The way one of his eyes is a little darker than the other. How he smells like cigarette smoke and that fancy hairspray, even when his hair is blown from the wind.

The way he looked that night. Cool and collected, then terrified and fighting for his life. So beautiful in the harsh starlight and then so abstract in the broken kitchen light.

Before he knows what’s happening, Steve is filling that gap. Kissing Billy like he’s trying to sooth the pain from their past. Maybe he is. Billy wouldn’t put it past him.

His hand finds a way to Steve’s hair, the same way Steve’s been running his through Billy’s now shorter hair. He curls it into the strands, holding on tightly. Soft.

The way Steve sighs his name takes Billy away from it all. The pain. The memories. The lack of memories.

They lay out under the stars for a few minutes, but Billy knows Joyce will freak out if she can’t find him. Not because she doesn’t trust him, he has to remind himself, but because she doesn’t trust others.

On the drive home Steve plays that pop stuff again, and Billy gives him the appropriate shit for it, a smile on his face the whole time. His fingers laced through Steve’s.

They arrive at the house, and Steve declines to come in. Gives the excuse that his parents will be waiting up when they both know it’s not true. Billy can’t blame him. Billy understands needing to be alone, needing to get away.

Billy leans through Steve’s window and wished that he could kiss him goodbye. Well. The teasing will have to do.

“Night, King Steve.”

“Goodnight, Asshole.”

If Joyce gives him a knowing smile at the door, Billy doesn’t smile back. Probably.

He definitely does. Maybe he deserves the smile. If Steve thinks he does.

[writings-by-blondie]

The One That Got Away

Ghost x Reader (Chapter I)

You were in your parents home, getting unpacked and prepping your room for stay over holidays. Dusting around some of family pictures and smiling, remembering each and every moment they were taken at.

You didn't visit your old home town much since your work was important and you didn't get much free time, so this holiday season you decided to go back, spend some time with your parents and your siblings who were yet to arrive.

Snow was already falling slowly and lazily outside so the holiday spirit was at its peak.

As you were strolling over some of the old highschool books you noticed a dusty highschool yearbook, it was from your tenth grade.

You sat on your squeaky bed and opened it, gliding your eyes over some familiar and not so familiar faces.

Your eyes stopped at one particular name and your heart felt heavy, beating fast in your chest you bit your lip and blushed a bit, his name revoking some old memories. His picture was missing, but in  your mind you could see him clearly, every single line of his face..

"Simon Riley"

———————————————————————

It hot outside, even the breeze of September was warm. You wore your school uniform, having your trusty black school bag hanging on your shoulder, your honey blonde hair tied up in a bit messy ponytail with a little bow clip on the side of your head.

It was your first day of tenth grade and you already missed the summer and vacation remembering how well filled your free time was, every day being out with your friends, laughing, taking pictures and having pool parties.

You took a deep sigh and looked around the high school yard your eyes searching for your best friend, she was late as usual so you decided to sit on one of the free benches near the parking lot.

Slowly folding your skirt, not wanting it to get all messed up, you sat down, crossing your legs and placing your bag next to you, saving place for your friend when she eventually arrives.

Loud sound of some kind of engine caught your attention and your blue eyes darted towards the parking lot.

A guy in black leather jacket that had British flag on shoulder, and dark blue jeans that had a few cuts parked his black big bike. He had his helmet on, it was black aswell, with some stickers of skulls on the side.

He turned the engine off and got off the bike, putting the brake down as he did. The bike was one of them oldies, but it was shining on the sun, it looked dangerous.

He removed the hamlet now, and you could clearly see his face.

He was about your age, even though he was tall and kinda bulked up. He had brownish hair and soft face lines, but before you could see his eyes he reached out to his pocket and thew dark "Ray Ban" shades over them.

You realised that you were staring now at this point, and not wanting to be caught you quickly turned around, pulling out your cell and going into your gallery, pretending to be looking at something.

But, in a matter of mere seconds your bag was in your lap, and the guy was now sitting next to you not giving single care that you were obviously saving the seat for someone.

You darted your eyes towards him but he was unbothered, instead he reached for his pocket on the jacket, and pulled out pack of cigars and zippo lighter, taking one cig between his lips and lighting it up, inhaling the smoke deeply before he returned the lighter into his pocket.

You were now furious, it was obviously prohibited to smoke on school grounds.

"Excuse me, could you put that smoke out? You are killing me along with yourself"

You said with stern and annoyed voice, he looked at you and smirked, raising his eyebrow. He even chew a gum, to make him look more like an complete asshole.

Boy leaned in towards you, slowly, and you blushed leaning back away from him. Next thing you knew you were choking in the ciggarete smoke that he blew into your face, laughing at the face you made along with the coughing sounds.

"How rude! You really don't have any shame!" You screamed at him now, furiously , which only ignited louder laugher inside of the boy.

You furrowed your eyebrows and stood up, taking your school bag and throwing it over your shoulder

"You have no manners and you are such a simpleton!" You spat the words, turning around on your heels, and almost jogging into the school hoping to never see him again.

After few overly boring classes, it was lunch time and you were in canteen with your friend, waiting in queue with her so she can get her lunch, you already had your packed since school food was, well it was questionable at most and full of carbs you didn't need.

"I need to go to washroom, I'll be right back Susanna" you said to your friend before you pecked her cheek and turned around to head your way, but you were met with a loud crash and something cold ran down your white shirt.

"What the-" you said loudly before you looked up and saw the same guy who now had his shades off, his hazel eyes looking down at you and resting on your chest.

"I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU-" you shouted and whole canteen looked at you. Your eyes filled with tears from embarrassment and your cheeks were red as an apple.

You pushed the guy away and ran towards the girls washroom that was just around the corner.

You looked into the mirror, your eyes full of tears, now red. Neatly ironed uniform that you wore was now covered with dark cola stains that rested over your chest.

Humiliated. Thats how you felt. Of course you didn't have reserve shirt, and of course you didn't know how the hell will you go back and face all of the people who saw that exchange few minutes ago.

A loud knock on the washroom door pulled you out of your panic state,

"Susanne do you have a shirt please? I can't go like this around the school, everyone will laugh!"

You yelled and the doors opened but your friend didn't say anything, instead you heard the doors closing.

"I don't have a shirt, but I might be able to help with your situation doll"

A man's voice could be heard and you panicked even more. "What the hell?" You thought

You turned towards the doors and saw him- that wretched human who just couldn't leave you alone this day it seemed.

"I think you've done enough, now please leave, this is a girls washroom or I'll scream and you'll get suspended or even better expelled."

You spat at him with low voice, turning away, but instead of answer, something hit you on the head, blocking your vision, it was warm and dark.

"Its the least I can do..and just so you know I am not a huge "share" guy, so you are welcome you stuck up.."

You grabbed the fabric that was over your head and pulled it down, having your vision back.

You held the jacket in your hands and glared at the guy.

"I wouldn't want to be found dead wearing this around! Its tasteless and it smells like cigarette factory! People will think that I am a loser or even worse that I am with someone like you!"

You threw the jacket back to him and he caught it with ease raising his dark eyebrow at you.

"Are you really that concerned about what will the poosh scum in this school say or think about you?"

You were now furious, you just wanted him gone, away from you, away from this room. You wished this whole day was just a nightmare and that you were still in bed, dreaming. Your mum will come upstairs to wake you up and see you off. But, the problem was that the whole morning and day were very real, and he was real and he wasn't leaving.

"Do I care? Yes, I care. These people love me, they care about me, they think highly of me and they respect me. Why would I even need to explain that to you, newcomer who is trying so hard to be tough and macho, thinking that you can just roll in with your shiny bike and make new rules?! Well guess what, no one will ever like you or accept you here because of your shitty behaviour, your mum should've raised you better and I absolutely am disgusted by you.

Now leave. I wont tell you the third time."

You let your rage get better of you and you didn't even think about the words that you were saying, wether they hurt him or not, and deep inside you knew that but you couldn't stop your tongue for spitting venom into his direction.

He just stood there, looking at you softly, before turning around and nodding his head. He didn't seem to be hurt by the words.

You didn't want to look at him so you turned away, looking at the mirror and trying to clean your shirt with some cold water when you heard doors being opened but before you could relax you realised that the door never closed instead you heard his voice again.

"You know, they were laughing when you ran away.." guy sad and the doors were shut. You were alone in the washroom again, the soothing sound of the water from the sink pulling you into deep thoughts.

"What? There is no way..he is a liar. They all love me, they were all probably concerned about me when I left in panic.." your thoughts were everywhere and you shut your eyes close, splashing your face with cold water.

"They were..right?" You thought again and opened your eyes, looking towards the doors.

There on the hanger was a black leather jacket, hanging and you took a deep breath, he left it for you, and the sting of regret pinched you on your chest - you really said some fucked up things.

Girl sighed and walked towards the hanger, taking the black jacket and sliding her arms inside. It was still warm. She zipped it up so that it would cover the stain on her chest and to her surprise she grabbed the collar and smelled it which caused her to cough- yeah it did smell like cigars after all. She smiled to herself and the bell for the next period rang, it was time to face people, again.

The class what unusually quiet, your friend didn't say much about what happened after you left, but you knew her well enough to know that she loved you and didn't want to hurt your feelings probably.

"What the hell are you wearing? Dont tell me that you and that guy are a thing!" Susanne said with angry but hushed voice, she didn't want the jocks at the back to hear your conversation even though the entire time they were eying you and giving you dirty looks.

"What?! No! How could you think something like that, are you crazy? I ordered him to give me this and of course that he obeyed. I didn't have a spare shirt.. and I can't walk around looking like Carry when she forgot to adjust her pad.."

You were lying, of course you were, and you wanted to stop but you couldn't, you didn't want your friend to think less of you and your authority you had in the school.

Your image that you were building all this time couldn't be crumbled now, when you only had one year left in this place, now when you were one of the most popular girls in the school, at the peak of being main cheerleader, but you could hear the whispers and laughs that were present.

Jeff was showing something to the others at the back of the classroom, you could see his phone in his hand and everyone he offered the peek at the screen was looking at you with sly smile that lingered on their lips.

You buried your head in your hands, just praying that class will be over soon so you could go home and by tomorrow, something else will happen and everyone will forget about what happened, and your prayers were answered- the bell rang and you packed quickly, saying your goodbyes to Susanne as you darted towards the classroom doors- it will be over at last.. but things aren't always so simple are they?

"So (y/n), you and the new guy in a bathroom?" You heard stupid Jeff's voice and you stopped in your tracks, turning around to face him, your cheeks getting red a bit.

"Excuse me?" You said while furrowing your eyebrows, will this day ever end?

"Carry saw you two inside there, no wonder you have his jacket. First day of new year and you already hop on the new guy? Thought it will take more time to forget me.."

Oh yeah, you forgot to mention that Jeff was your ex who broke up with you over the text on the summer vacation while you were away with your friends. Yeah, Jeff is a persona non grata in your life, his stupid blue eyes and stupid blonde hair.

"What the hell are you talking about Jeff? I don't even know him, did you hit your head on football practice or something?" You said and whole class watched the exchange, all of the girls eying you with judging look in their eyes, you friend Susanne staying quiet.

Jeff took his phone from the pocket and unlocked it with sly grin on his face, his fingers tapping over screen before he pushed the screen in front of your face. It was a picture of you and the guy in the bathroom, took as it looks like through the slightly opened washroom door.

You now blushed uncontrollably, your eyes getting filled with tears, you were never in this situation before, they all loved you, they never judged you, they never picked on you. How is this happening to you, the belle of the school? Usually you would be the one to laugh at someone because of some stupid picture, how did all the world turn on you? Was this karma?

As first tears started rolling down your reddened cheek, you felt hand on your shoulder that pulled you against someone. You could feel his breathing on your back, it was not regular, as if the person that held you was angry .

"Yes, she is with me, what will you do about that you twat?" The familiar voice spoke and you couldn't help but smile on the inside, it was him, where the hell did he come from? "Is he a stalker? Please, no, anything but that.."

"The used goods suit your style Riley. Not that I am bragging but.." Jeff was now furious, trying to humiliate both of them, throwing around insults that he knew were not true. "Riley? Was that his name? How the hell does Jeff know him?"

"Yeah, well, I like fixing broken things mate, what can I say.." Riley said with a smile on his face and pulled you out of the classroom.

"Lets go doll, I have a huge problem, and only you can fix it" you looked up at him confused and a bit disoriented. What the hell was happening?

As he was basically almost carrying you out on the front doors you pouted and kicked at him

"What the hell was that? Me fixing your shit?! You were the one who put me in this position at the first place you arse! Let me go!"

You squiled as the guy that dragged you laughed "Or what? Will you run to the principal? What will you say? Oh ,sir ,this man just saved me from humiliation infront of the whole class and not just once but twice! Can you believe how good of a lad he is?" Riley now teased you, changing his voice into his best version of femine voice.

Your head was spinning, you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were angry, sad and happy at the same time. You reminisced on the day when Riley finally stopped dragging you around, when you looked around you were on the parking lot, next to his bike- right where all this madness started.

You were quiet, looking down, avoiding his gaze that was fixed on your face. You twirled your skirt in your hands before looking up at him finally.

"I wont go to principal..and yes you were right. Is that what you wanted me to say? That all this" you pointed at school building behind you and then at your ponytail that was now sad looking "is fake? Okay fine, I'll admit it. Its fake, all of it. They hate me and I hate them, I can't stand them. There, you win, Riley"

You were now fired up ,angry with yourself and  felt defeated. This hazel-eyed guy in front of you turned your whole world upside down in just one day and you didn't have any control over it, you didn't have any control over your choices and it scared you, you never felt that way.

"I don't want to win, I just want you to open your pretty eyes and see the world as it is. Now, are you gonna linger there and yell at me more or are we going?"

He smiled at you and wiggled his eyebrows, you took a deep breath and then furrowed your eyebrows at him once more.

"We? We are not going anywhere. I am going home and thats it."

You said, crossing your hands over your chest looking away from him.

Riley mounted his bike and chuckled at you

"Come on, I'll get ya home, I owe you that much for all of the crap that happened today.." he patted seat behind him and you pouted, weighing your options.

"Okay, but if you miss any of the directions I am about to give you I am jumping off and calling the coppers. Are we clear?"

Riley laughed at your statement and gave you the helmet and you mounted the bike.

You softly laid your hands on his back and he chucked as he started the bike.

"You'll have to grab better if you don't want to fly off on the first corner we take ,doll"

You blushed under the helmet and warped your hands around his waist, holding him tightly and resting your head on his back. You just now noticed how nice he actually smelled, it was some mixture of that "replay" perfume you really liked.

Riley pulled the bike break and you two drove off the dreadful parking lot.

After some yelling at him and wanting to push him off the motorcycle , you two were now two houses away from your own. You told him to stop and he did.

You almost fell off trying to get off the bike for some reason and you could hear his laughter, it was cheerful and it suited his calming and a bit raspy voice.

You hanged your bag over the shoulder and gave him back his helmet.

"I suppose I should thank you?" You blinked at him and even let a small smile linger on your lips. He was looking at your face, your eyes especially.

"No need... It was my pleasure doll.",

You could now see that he was staring at your face and you blushed.

"What are you looking at? Do I look that bad?",

you questioned and he averted his gaze, looking down at the pavement, still having huge smile over his face. You noticed that he had dimples on his cheeks when he smiled like that, and well.. He was cute.

"No, nothing like that. Its just..this is the first time I saw you smile since I met you this morning..", he said and ran his hand through his messy hair.

"Yeah, well... I didn't have much to smile at today did I?", you bit your lower lip and averted gaze away from him.

He said slowly nodded his head in approval to your words.

"Well.. Guess I'll see you tomorrow..", you said and waved at him, starting to walk away to your home before you remembered one important thing. You could hear that he started his bike already.

"WAIT! I mean.. Wait!"

You yelled, running back towards the bike, he raised his visor of the helmet he already put on and blinked at you.

"Whats your name?", you asked him and tugged hair that was in your face away behind the ears.

"Simon.. Simon Riley. And you?"

He said and you bit your lip smiling at him,

"Its (y/n)..", you said shyly now and he the gas of his bike looking at you.

"Well, see ya 'morrow, (y/n)."

He said and winked at you before lowering the visor and driving off, not even waiting for your response.

You stood on the pavement and smiled to yourself.

"Simon. A name to match that crazy personality of his and..", you thought to yourself before facepalming in the middle of the street.

You realised that you were still wearing his black jacket.

"That cheeky bastard plans everything in advance doesn't he..?"

[chalametdarling]

T.C. fluff:  Being Timothée’s co-star in an upcoming romantic drama, and having a long weekend off together to explore the coastal European city you’re filming in

“Wow, this is beautiful.” You hugged your rolled-up towel close to your chest, the view of a crowded beach, sparkling crystal blue water and colourful umbrellas lining the sand awaiting you. 

“Oui, c’est très beau,” Timothee agreed, playfully nudging your shoulder, guiding you to follow him down onto the sand. You slipped off your shoes and the two of you began meandering through the endless sea of warm sand and towels, eventually finding vacant real estate between a young family and a group of women bathing in the sun. It was Timothee’s idea to explore the French town you were filming in together while you had a few days off, and as you laid down your towel, and Timothee retrieved containers of strawberries and savoury biscuits from his backpack, you couldn’t believe you’d thought of spending your Friday any other way. 

You talked and ate and waded into the water, splashing each other and jumping over waves. And when you weren’t doing that, you alternated between reading your script and a novel while Timothee laid on his stomach, headphones on, head resting on his arms.   You couldn’t quite tell behind his sunglasses, but judging by how you’d finished reading an entire chapter and he hadn’t moved a muscle, you assumed he’d fallen asleep. Under the sun block and daylight, his pale skin seemed to glow. His hair a perfectly messy mop, grains of sand nestled into the ends of his curls. Timothee really did have perfect features. You could objectively see that now that you were really looking at him. Bold eyebrows poking over the tops of his sunglasses, strong nose, angelic lips- “You staring at me?” You quickly looked out towards the water, resting your chin onto your knees and hugging your legs. “No, just checking if you were awake.” He rolled over, stretching out. “I am now.” Checking the time on his watch, he added, “Shit. We’ve been here for hours.” He reached out and picked up one of the few remaining uneaten strawberries by its stalk while you packed away your books into your bag. “Do you feel like getting dinner?” he asked, tossing the leafy remains into the pile you’d made as you ate.   “Yes,” you eagerly nodded your head. Laying out on the sand all day really worked up your appetite. Already feeling drowsy from the fresh air and too much sun, you followed Timothee’s lead from the shore to the row of bars and cafes lining the beach. He led you inside the doors of a quaint pub; one hand holding the door open, the other on the small of your back. A live band was set up on the raised stage towards the back, playing acoustic French music for those enjoying meals and post-work drinks. You found a seat at the bar, sharing bread and wine, your heart swelling the more time you spent learning the workings of Timothee’s mind. You could’ve sat all night with your chin in the palm of your hand, listening to him rattle on about his favourite directors and film theories and character studies, then abruptly stop himself with an embarrassed laugh, running his palms down his thighs. “Anyway,” he laughed, shaking his head. He finished his drink, then tuned into the DJ who’d since replaced the initial band. “Wanna dance?” Several drinks in and hours of dancing later, you were still on the dance floor with a drink in hand.  As the night went on, every time your head spin subsided, Timothee was either dragging you through the crammed bodies back over to the bar or replacing empty glasses in your hand with overflowing cups of alcohol. After the fourth glass exchange, you put an arm around his neck to pull his ear down to be level with your lips. While your thoughts were still somewhat coherent, your words were a little slurred. “Timmy, maybe you should slow down a bit.” As you were speaking, the ABBA remix playing faded into Kid Cudi, and you watched as your words fell onto deaf ears. Timothee’s face lit up and he shouted, “FUCK YEAH!” raising his free arm above his head. Your eyes followed his movements as he sang along to every word, big grin on his face, never stopping to breath; only pausing for a sip of his drink.   Before you knew what was happening, your back was against the wall and Timothee’s lips on yours. But just as quickly as he had kissed you, he was pulling back, flicking his hair back and shouting the next lyric through a tipsy grin. As the chorus started for a second time, he caught sight of you watching him, wide eyed and in a daze, and set his empty glass down as you reached to grab his waist. He stepped in to kiss you again; this time harder, longer and deeper.   The remainder of the night became hazier and hazier; only blurred visions of licking salt off the back of your hand and clinking shot glasses, jumping and spinning around the dance floor, and your fingers getting caught in Timothee’s salty curls remained. * An instant ache shot through the middle of your forehead as you blinked your eyes open, and you groaned. Sheer confusion washed over you, your mind unable to piece together where you were or what day it was, until you spotted a familiar black backpack against the wall and a bottle of cologne on the dresser. Ah, Timothee’s place. Timothee’s bed, to be specific. Slowly rolling over and rubbing your eyes to look behind you, you discovered you had the bed to yourself. The other side was practically untouched, blankets still tucked under the mattress. A door creaked open, and Timothee emerged from the adjoining bathroom, dragging his feet behind him. Seeing you were awake, he changed course and climbed onto the intact side of the bed, mumbling out, ‘Morning’ in a deep, soft voice. He sat with his back to you, and the one hand cradled to your chest itched to reach forward and trace down his spine. You weren’t sure where the urge came from. Maybe because of the way his hooded eyes, drunk on tequila and European air, remained locked on yours for hours last night. How his strawberry lips sponged kisses on your cheek and neck as you waited at the bar. How his hands had so delicately clasped around your cheeks when he kissed you for real over and over and over again. It would’ve been so easy to push back the covers, walk your fingers across the mattress; to drag them up and down his back or affectionately twist the ends of his hair. But Timothee was leaning back against his pillows to lie down beside you before you could muster up the courage to do so. With interlaced fingers resting on his bare chest, he looked over to you. “How did we get home last night?” You yawned, nestling further down into the pillows. “We walked, remember?” “Oh, shit.” Timothee nodded, pursing his lips with a hum. “I feel like shit.” “You drank a lot last night,” you said softly. He licked his lips, covering his face with his hands. “Fuck.” He stayed like that for a few moments, rubbing his face, and you wondered if he’d forgotten anything else from the previous night.   “I should probably go back to mine.” He dropped his hands back to his chest, looking over again, voice gentle as he spoke. “You can stay if you want.” “No, I should go and have a shower,” you told him, rolling onto your back and stretching your arms out. Timothee’s fingertips ghosted over your neck with a small smile, and you instinctively moved your head back from under his sudden touch. “What?” He shook his head, bringing his hand back to its resting place on his chest, eyes still lazily drooped as he enquired about your plans for the rest of the evening. You pushed yourself up to sit against the headboard, your hand subconsciously hovering over the spot Timothee’s had just been. “You know we have work on Monday, right? I’d like to read my lines at least once before then.” After pointing out you brought your script out with you the previous say, he added, “You have all of Sunday for that.”   You pursed your lips with a sigh. He rolled over, holding his head up with his hand. “Come on, y/n.” You evidently didn’t need much convincing, because a few hours later, you were meeting Timothee for ice cream. Desserts in hand, you found a small table outside the ice cream parlour, shaded from the orange glow of late afternoon sun by an umbrella. The two of you sat looking out at the streets, sunglasses hiding both of your dark, hungover eyes, observing the strangers passing by. And when you had the chance, you stole glances at the boy sitting across from you. When you met him out the front of the hotel, his formerly dry, sandy hair was now shiny, the ends still a little damp. He smelled fresh when you hugged him, and his jumper was soft on your cheek. He’d complimented your turtle neck top, which reminded you… “By the way,” you said, pulling Timothee’s attention from the open roads to you, “I’m not too happy with you, Timothee.” He frowned, taking another lick of his ice cream. “What the fuck did I do?” You teasingly held his stare. “Oh, I don’t know,” you said, pulling down the high neck of your top to reveal your purple stained skin. A shy smile overtook Timothee’s face and he shrugged, laughing awkwardly. “Oh, yeah. Sorry?” “Funny is it?” you mused, sliding your sunglasses down your nose to look over the frames at him. Timothee licked his melting ice cream, then said, “No, but now that you mention it, y/n, I’m mad at you too.” You slid your glasses all the way off, placing them down on the table. “Really? Why’s that?” Timothee, with a cocky smile, tugged down the chunky collar of his sweater, revealing a light bruise at the very base of his neck. You instinctively lowered your face and hid your eyes behind your free hand. “Oh my god.” Through the cracks between your fingers, you saw him smiling, bringing his cone back up to his mouth. “Forgot about that, did you?”   Dropping your hands with a laugh, you reached forward, using your thumb to push back his collar again and run your thumb over the mark you left on his pale skin. “Sorry,” you mumbled with a little pout. With an exaggerated sigh, looking up to make eye contact with Timothee, you added, “What is wrong with us?” He laughed, putting his hand on your wrist and running his thumb over your skin. “It’s alright. I forgive you.” You shook your head in mock disapproval, but there was a buzzing in your chest as you felt his lingering eyes and warm skin on yours.   You strolled back to the hotel in comfortable silence. Despite being a bundle of nerves, it was nice being with him. He made you think, and he made you feel. A man adorned in a billowing linen shirt sat on the side of the street, guitar in hand, singing a sombre tune. You slowed down along with the few other strangers who had paused to listen to the man’s song, Timothee a few paces behind you, taking his sunglasses off as he slowed. A few moments passed, and Timothee leaned down from his place behind you so that he could speak softly in your ear. “He’s singing about his lover.” Timothee paused to listen to the next line. “He doesn’t want to live without them… he feels empty… and sick… he- he’s waiting for her but… he knows she’s gone for good.” Turning over your shoulder, you pouted up at Timothee, who reciprocated the expression. “That’s so sad.” Timothee nodded. His hair flopped over his cheek, and you noticed his eyes sparkling in the golden cast of evening light. Over his shoulder, a couple held each other, longingly looking into each other’s eyes, tenderly touching each other’s cheeks. As a loaded weight settled on your chest, you looked back up at Timothee. The space between his eyebrows slightly creased and he smiled. “What?” Clicking your tongue against your teeth, and shaking your head, you answered, “Nothing.” You both knew it wasn’t nothing. With a sigh, you snuck your hand between his arm and body, grabbing onto his forearm to lead him away. “Alright, I only agreed to ice cream. Let’s go.” It was quiet when you got to your floor of the hotel, so you tried to be as silent as possible climbing the stairs, so other guests weren’t disturbed. You and Timothee were work colleagues, and friends, and his room was only ten steps further down the hall, and you were almost positive that you’d definitely be seeing him again the next day; but as he lingered by your door as you rummaged in your bag for your key, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad you were saying goodbye. Once you retrieved your key, you looked up at him with a smile. “Alright,” you said softly. “This is where I leave you.” Timothee stood by your door, shoulders slightly hunched, eyes stuck on your face. He wasn’t budging, and you weren’t game enough to break first. His messy curls flopped over his eyes again, and you pushed them back behind his ears. He held onto your wrist, slowly lowering it down to your sides. Relationships with colleagues could get messy. Everybody knew that. What does this mean for us? The words were caught in your throat. You wanted to ask; to say it out loud. But you couldn’t bring yourself to form them. Why couldn’t you just be okay with enjoying the moment? Timothee inched his head closer to yours slowly, almost unsure if it was okay. You kept your eyes lowered. “Timothee,” you whispered. “Yes,” he whispered back, resting his forehead on yours. You slowly shook your head. “I can’t.” “Why?” You didn’t respond right away, eyes still focused towards the ground, and he nudged the side of your nose with his, then pulled back from you. “Hmm?” You sighed, closing your eyes and lifting your face to his. Very slowly, he took the sides of your face into his hands. Static in the air charged your movements as his lips grazed against yours. Somehow, you simultaneously had both a million things to say, yet nothing at all. You settled on hugging him, chin resting over his shoulder. It was nice hugging him; to have him holding you close. “Good night, Timmy,” you muttered, eventually breaking free. “Good night,” he said in reply, hands sliding out from around your waist. With tingling lips, you stood up on your toes for a second to place a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth once more. You unlocked your door, and while slipping inside your room, you looked over one last time at Timothee smiling. “Good night.”

[itsmoonphobic]

𝕭𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 ᯽

✞︎𝑩𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒅- The piece of ground on which a battle is or was fought,a place or situation of strife and conflict. ⚔

𝐀𝐦 𝐈 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 @netherbricknick 's 𝐓𝐓𝐒𝐌 𝐚𝐮?𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐚𝐦. 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐡𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐈 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 & 𝐓𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨! 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧!𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐚' 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤!! <3 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 ☺︎︎

Summer slowly came to an end and the hot,sticky air outside cooled down to a soothing,chilly breeze.The once green and vibrant colored leaves and moss covered branches dropped their shades to orange and brown ones. Autumn was around the corner and the kingdom's residents bunkered themselves in their houses.Food supplies and herbs to heal their coughing and headaches were stacked in chests and shleves.Marchers and Travelers had a hard time with their jobs.The streets and woodland paths were drowning in piles of leaves so it was hard to drive their carriages through them.

Puffy and dark clouds filled the sky to the brim.Storms could be predicted by the thunder and rain easily getting heavier and more threatening with each passing day.Fall was a hard time for the kingdom, the real threat was indeed their famous frozen winters but autumn was like winters younger,annoying sibling.Making the lives of the inhabitants stressfull and complicated by it's annoying tactics.Then we had the people who actually saw beauty and patience in the hard to deal with season.The type of people who would go outside and jump in mountains of leaves,searching the ground for chestnuts and hazelnuts, admiring the season that represented a painted canvas brought to life by an artist's fantasy.

One of those people was Tommy.The blond haired boy loved nothing more than when the time for autumn arrives.When the world drops into a new color palette.Sure summer and spring was fun,the weather was sunny and warm and most of the creatures came out during those seasons and flowers began to bloom and show their hidden beauty to the world but that was nothing compared to the most gorgeous season Tommy knew.Fall had a special place in the blue eyed boy's heart.He had so many cherishing memories connected to it,so many things he remembers doing with Tubbo and...their parents.

Tommy's icey orbs pooled up with tears as he lazily sat behind his window.His damp breath left behind a trace of fog on the fragile glass,that's how near Tommy's face was. He kept a perplexed gaze,a frown making it's way onto his thin lips that were trembling,not becouse of the cold.His eyes scanned the forest surrounding their village.He would catch a few squirrels and foxes running around the surface. The memory of his parents always hits Tommy hard,Tubbo seemed unaffected by the mention of anything regarding their parents but Tommy reacts in a different way.

The younger twin needed a distraction to get his thoughts away from their deceased caretakers.At times like this Tommy sneaks out,either slyly passing Tubbo by the front door to walk out like a normal person or he climbs out of his window like a monkey.Tommy snickered to himself as he brought back the one time he fell down instead of landing on his feet,he was pretty sure that if someone asked him to show them the big bruise on his right hip he could still present it.Tommy propped himself up on his elbows and hands,throwing one last longing look out the window towards the entrance of the graveyeard and with that he walked out of his and Tubbo's shared bedroom.

As Tommy walked down the corridor towards the kitchen located on the first floor of the house his ears picked up a conversation between Tubbo and by the looks of it either Wilbur or Phil since Fundy wasn't here today.The brown haired babysitter had his own shop he had to take care of and his own responsibilities.Tubbo made sure that Fundy had nothing to worry about and that he and Tommy are capable of surviving on their own.Tommy descended down the stairs and carefully opened the doors to the kitchen, making sure not to jumpscare his easily scared brother.

"Is this too much flour or should I a-Oh!Hey Tommy!" Tubbo stopped midsentence a wide grin on his face as he held a bag of all purpose flour in his hands.His face along with his green apron were dusted with all sorts of baking materials. The blonde chuckled,shaking his head at how dumb Tubbo looked right now. "What in the hell are you doing Toby?" Tommy questioned his messy twin.Tubbo rolled his eyes,placing the flour on the counter and dusting his apron off with his palms.Tommy watched as the white powder particles flew around the room and then seemingly disappeared into thin air. "What does it look like I'm doing?" Tubbo threw him a snarky question back.Tommy shrugged. "I'm trying to bake a pie dummy,it's a recipe Phil told me!"

Tubbo pointed to the spot behind him.Tommy followed his finger and kindly smiled at the caring presence in the room with them.He waved his hand and let out a "Hey Phil!" The ghost seemed to be in a good mood today,Tommy instantly felt the happy and pleasant emotions.He didn't taste salt water though so Wilbur wasn't around sadly,he wanted to greet his other ghost friend aswell but looks like he'll have to carry out that wish another time.For now Tommy needed to clear his mind and relax a bit.A distressed and worried feeling reached Tommy as he gently laughed: "Don't worry Phil,I'm just going out for a stroll through the woods.I won't get lost this time!"

Tubbo looked at Tommy with suprise and unexpectance. His brother didn't mention anything about going into the forest.Naturally Tubbo immediately tried to prevent him from going all by himself and that he should maybe take Phil with him or look for Wilbur but Tommy shook his head at the idea of tagging along with somebody by his side.He had to be alone right now,not becouse he didn't like spending time with the ghosts,he loved it actually,but his thoughts were racing a hundred miles per hour and he had to sort them out by himself.

❥︎ ¤ ❥︎ ¤ ❥︎ ¤ ❥︎

"Please be careful Tommy,Phil says so aswell." Tommy stood at the door,his pale hand held it open for him.Tubbo gave him a considerate smile and threw his arms around his younger twin brother.Tommy was a little cought of guard but he directly hugged him back,squeezing him tightly. After what felt like hours to Tommy but only a split second to Tubbo,the hazel haired boy released his brother and waved his hand back at him as he slowly approached the deep rooting forest.Tubbo only closed the door after him once Tommy was out of his sight.The older twin looked at Phil with caring eyes:"Do you think he'll be okay Phil?"

"𝐻𝑒'𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑇𝑜𝑏𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑇𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑦,ℎ𝑒'𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒'𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑏𝑦 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓."

Tubbo nodded his head at the kind worded answer he received from his ghost friend.He adverted his eyes from the translucent man towards the window where he stared at the spot Tommy walked through a few seconds ago.

"Yeah you're right." A smile tugged at Phil's cold lips as he watched the young boy infront of him go back to grabbing the flour he placed on the kitchen counter and continue preparing the pumpkin pie. 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟.

❥︎ ¤ ❥︎ ¤ ❥︎ ¤ ❥︎

Tommy's walk wasn't too fast and not too slow.A steady pace of walking forwards aimlessly is what you could possibly describe it as.The blue eyed boy didn't have a location he prepared to visit before taking off,he let his feet take him wherever they felt like going in that moment.His mind was coming to a rest as the cool autumn air filled his lungs and Tommy released it back where it came from.He played around with the smoke forming from his breaths. This absolute silence and calming atmosphere was something the stubborn blonde craved.He closed his eyes, taking a deep,long breath to cleanse his senses,opening them again after letting out said breath.

Between all the orange and red shades of leaves,you could spot yellow and slight purple ones if you look close enough. Tommy was always the kind of person to pay good attention to small details and mistakes which tends to piss people off sometimes,but that didn't bother him in the slightest.You could say the meanest shit towards Tommy but he would simply brush it off and insult you ten times more hard and offensively than you did.He held many traits that others around him found difficult to process and understand but Tommy can't help the way his personality came to be over the years of growing up.And now even at the age of fourteen he still hasn't fully built up his perspective of looking at life in a certaint way.

Tommy came to a sudden halt.There infront of him was a open meadow which seemed to contain the ruins of an old battlefield of some sort.Stone structures such as watchtowers and canons of rusty iron were scattered around the grass.This place must have been quite the mass slaughter and destruction disaster.Tommy wondered how many people faught for their lives,how many of them made it out alive?How many fathers gave the promise to return back home to their families but failed to keep it?What was the reason behind this destroyed crime scene?What rules were broken to cause this massacre?The questions in Tommy's mind began to pile up and grow the more he dug around through the abandoned ruins.

Old pieces of armor and small weapons like broken arrows and daggers layed motionless on the ground.Nothing in particular stood out to Tommy but he did take a few old golden coins to sell them down town.The blue eyed boy decided to start his way back home since it was getting dark soon and he doesn't wanna repeat old mistakes.It only seems like it happend yesterday when Tubbo and he got lost and met Phil for the first time,even though it was more than five years since that happened.Tommy snickered as he played the scene back in his head.

And right before Tommy walked away from the gruesome scene a bright piece of metal reflected itself in his eye.The silver metal was hidded under a heavy looking rock.Tommy made his way towards the shimmering material and pushed the rock away from it after finding an easy spot where to grab it and drag it off of it.The mysterious metal turned out to be a sharp and silver blade of an old sword.Tommy's eyes widened as he admired the beautiful but deadly weapon. This thing must have taken out so many people and destroyed their lives but it still looked so taken care of and newly hardened.There was a wierd writing engraved at the bottom of the sword holder.A cursive "𝑇.𝐵" was carved in it.

Tommy squinted with his eyes, T.B? He could only ask himself what that stands for.Maybe the first letters of the name who once held this sword in their hands and fought with it for their life against everyone else?Maybe it had a secret meaning or message hidden in it?Who knows. Tommy surely didn't but he did know that he is definitely taking the cool looking weapon with him before someone else discoveres it and uses it for something dumb.

The moment his fingers grazed along the sharp blade,the taste of copper and iron filled his mouth.A stinging scent of blood and discomfort danced over his tounge.Tommy's face scrunched up in disgust as he smacked his lips to make the awful taste go away faster but it wouldn't budge. It only seemed to get worse and stronger the more he fought against it.Giving up on getting rid of the revolting taste that made him want to throw up right then and there Tommy quicky snatched the sword and swiftly ran back the way he came from.Little did he know that he wasn't going home alone and that someone is interested in getting something back from Tommy that belongs to them.

❥︎ ¤ ❥︎ ¤ ❥︎ ¤ ❥︎

Tubbo had just finished placing his homemade pumpkin pie in the preheated furnace.It wasn't even finshed yet but it already looked appetizing enough for Toby.Phil left a while ago leaving the brown haired boy by himself to clean the kitchen,even if Phil did want to help there isn't a big chance of that happening,pretty self explanatory.Tubbo was lightly humming to himself while washing off all the batter from his wooden bowl.He made sure none of it went to waste by picking up the smaller droplets of the beige substance and licking it off his fingers.A smile fell apon his lips as he hummed in delight at the sugary taste of the pie's dough. He was still waiting for Tommy to come back,but made sure to keep his nerves and heart in check so they don't break loose and make him go crazy in worry.

The smell of delicious,crispy pie filling spread around inside the kitchen of the two brothers.After twenty minutes of spending it's time in the burning cole filled furnace Toby equipped himself with his red mittens and delivered the hot metal ring the pie was placed in to the windowsill.He has to admit for a baked good he created by himself and only the slight help of his ingredient list aka.Phil,Toby was more than proud of his baking skills.He would have to repeat this another time with both Phil and Wilbur on his side!Maybe Tommy could join them aswell,but that would probably lead to Tommy setting the whole house on fire along with everyone inside.Tubbo cringed at the though,reconsidering the idea of letting his chaotic brother help him bake.

The front door opened and a exhausted,out of breath Tommy came storming in through it.To his suprise the wooden surface didn't shatter or break even though he slammed it shut pretty hard for his liking.Tommy still held onto the sharp sword in his palms,the blade carefully layed against his chest,making sure he doesn't slice up any skin in the process of keeping it in his grasp.Tommy gently placed it aside,while he kneeled down and began untying his muddy boots.The taste of blood didn't leave his mouth. Once he untied his boots and stored them in the compartment for his and Tubbo's shoes,Tommy tenderly took hold of his precious new found sword he planed on treasuring forever.A huge grin spread across his facial features,making his tiny dimples stand out.

He couldn't wait to show Tubbo his new weapon he found. Ignoring the horrible distaste swimming in his mouth, Tommy snuck over from the main entrance hallway to the kitchen and quietly turned the door handle.Much to his supris,Tubbo seemed completely distracted as he focused on removing the metal baking ring around his freshly baked pie.Tommy could use a piece of it right now,anything to get rid of the taste of blood flowing down his tounge.Shaking aside his unnecessary thoughts,Tommy crept up behind his brother and slowly poked his right shoulder.And just as expected Tubbo squealed,jumping up in fear and nearly letting his masterpiece of a pie fall down with him.

Tommy laughed,clutching his stomach watching his twin calm himself down and make sure his pie is still together like it should be and not broken in small pieces.Tubbo was about to angrily yell at Tommy for being so mean and scaring him even though he reminded him countless times to never,ever to that to him but the sight of something,or someone even scarier next to the laughing blonde made Tubbo scream in terror.He could tell it was a ghost and he didn't look like a happy one either.Tommy abruptly stopped laughing once he heard his brother scream bloody murder. "I know,I know 'don't ever,ever scare me again!' relax Tobes this is the last time I'll scare you." The pale blue eyed boy reassured his brother.

"Check out this sick sword I got!Isn't it cool?I found it while walking through the woods,was under some old rock on some sort of battlefield." Tommy presented Tubbo the sword,his brother could see the blue orbs lighten up with excitement and pride as he rambled on and on about how sick his new sword looked. "Ehm Tommy?" Tubbo asked Tommy who wouldn't stop admiring the blade in his hands. The blond boy looked up from his sword letting out a small and confused "huh?". "Your sword sure does look cool and everything but,who's your new ghost friend?He eh,he seems nice?" Tubbo questioned his younger twin expecting Tommy to be aware of the pig masked ghost following him.

Tommy being Tommy looked at Tubbo bewildered. "The hell are you talking about?I didn't feel any presence or wierd emotions?" Tubbo was surprised,he continued to look at the scary looking ghost who was staring back at him,he seemed suprised aswell by the fact that Tubbo could see him and even describe what he was wearing. "I don't know why you didn't feel his presence but he's definitely standing next to you." Tubbo pointed out "Does he mind answering some questions?" Tommy looked at Tubbo with curious eyes as the hazel haired boy hesitantly began talking to the stranger spirit:"Do you mind ans- Okay then he can definitely hear both of us." Tubbo smiled turning to Tommy who still tried to get rid of the metalic taste dragging itself out in his mouth.

"What's his name?"

"His name is Techno,and that sword you were bragging about a few minutes ago is his and he's very angry that you took it from him."

.....

"Does he want it back though?"

"Yes he does,he says the sooner you return his sword where you found it the sooner he will leave us alone."

......

"What if I don't return it?What would happen then?"

"He will haunt us until you decide to retrieve it to him."

......

"Why couldn't I feel his presence even though he stalked me back home for over half an hour?"

"Eh,do you taste blood in your mouth Tommy?"

"How did yo-?Yeah I do actually.How did he know?"

"Apparently,and I quote: That's the way you can tell he's around so if you were smart enough to figure that out by yourself you wouldn't be so suprised that he's in our house right at this moment."

......

"Okay 'mr.smartass" how in the hell was I supposed to know that?Go ahead,explain asshole."

"He says that if you owned a decent working brain you should have realized it sooner."

"Now he's calling me stupid?Yeah he can forget about his sword,I'm keeping it.Hell he can haunt us as much as his little ghost heart desires,see if I care dipshit."

Tubbo tried really hard to contain his laughter that was building up in his stomach but at some point he failed and broke out in a fit.The way Tommy and this new ghost,that told them goes by the name of Techno,were already bickering back and forth between eachother was so funny to Tubbo in a way nobody could understand.He could have figured that his brother wouldn't give up on the sword so easily but apparently Techno was just as bad since the crow wearing ghost didn't give up on it either.

"You two need to calm down.Techno would you like to hang around?We have two more ghosts keeping us company and we own a music shop!"Tubbo enthusiastically opened up to Techno and asked him to stay which Techno seemed to be taken aback by since normally people are scared and weirded out by such things as ghosts,not to mention most people normally didn't posses the ability to actually see them in any sort of way.But the fact that Tubbo seemed to communicate and see Techno made the ghost tilt his head in interest and curiosity.He found a liking to Tubbo but this Tommy kid on the other hand was a pain in the ass.First he steals his sword without any consent,then he calls him an asshole,a dipshit and a smartass to add to the list.He was gonna make sure that sword gets back where it came from.

"Hell no!Forget it,nu uh there is no way I am letting this smartass spend time here with us,especially not at the music shop with Wilbur and Phil!" Tommy argued,trying to stop Tubbo from making a mistake and letting this asshole of a ghost stay with them.Tubbo giggled,placing his hands on his hips:"C'mon Tommy!Loosen up a little,he isn't that bad!Right now he complimented my pie!I say he should hang around!" Tommy was about the throw another argument against his staying but the glare Tubbo send him his way stopped him from doing so.Tubbo can get really scary if he chose to do so in certaint situations.

"Now that that's settled!You want some freshly baked pie?" Tubbo twirled around,holding out his pie proudly infront of him.Tommy's smile was genuine as he placed the sword aside and completely forget about the copper taste in his mouth and the spirit standing next to him.He pulled out a chair neatly located under the table,making sure he doesn't scratch the floor while doing so.His mouth was watering and drool began to form as he watched Tubbo place a plate of pumpkin pie infront of him.The pale blue eyed thanked him as Tubbo got a piece for himself and sat down across from Tommy on the table.

The rest of the night was spent with eating,joking and storytelling by the campfire as the pig masked ghost silently watched the two brothers interact happily :)

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕰𝖓𝖉 ♔︎

𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬!𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚n𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞!𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬!𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝,𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 @netherbricknick 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐮!

[spartanxhunterx]

Miraculous comeuppance

A short story based on @isitsusi 's miraculous idea. Honestly couldn't get this out my head and had to write it. But two things first, I haven't watched a lot of MLB and I've changed the prompt a little. (I added Chloe, cause that girl needs redemption)

--

In the three years, four months and two weeks of being the - somewhat proud - owner of a miraculous, Marinette had never expected it to come to this. She had never anticipated that she would be able to see the end of her journey, the end of the fight.

The defeat of hawkmoth.

Or at least she had that planned for later. She was at the park currently, under the shade of a tree, a notebook and many, many pictures before her. All of them the same, yet not, each a different angle taken of the agrest mansion. To her left sat her friend, boyfriend and superhero partner Chat Noir, untransformed as his civilian self Adrien.

Some few weeks ago he had come to her - as ladybug - with vital information, the identity of Hawkmoth. Gabriel Agrest.

When asked, he said he had seen him transform, not directly, he had been peeking into his father's office to see him and had just... Seen it.

The reveal that immediately followed was messy, sputtering, blushing and a whole week of avoiding each other until they got their act together. Then they were unstoppable, both in and out the mask.

They defeated akumas faster, more effectively. Out of the mask the two were a power duo, who's unwavering loyalty was known by many of their ex-friends.

Now, the two of were planning just how to take him down and reclaim both the stolen miraculous. Well, they were just making complete sure that they understood everything before making a move really, the planning was done.

 "Ugh, could you two stop being cute for like five minutes." The superhero duo looked up to the third member of their team, Chloe borgulous. "The last thing I need is getting a cavity cause of you two."

 Yes, Chloe borgulous was the one the two of them trusted the most, enough to earn back her miraculous. Even after the events of Miracle Queen, it was quite easy to hide her identity again, change the comb into a bracelet, change the hero's costume and give her a new name. Now no-one knew that she was the new bee flying around. She even got to keep the miraculous on her person permanently.

Pollen was good for her anyway.

 Chloe placed down a familiar box, filled with baked goods from the dupan-cheng bakery.

 "I should warn you though, we've got a..." She jabbed her thumb behind her towards a large and recognisable group. "Possible situation."

 " Ignore them chloe, they're not important. " Marinette partially turned her nose up when she saw their classmates across the way, having what looked to be a picnic. She could already make out Lila, no doubt in the middle of weaving another tall tail of how she had saved an animal, knew a celebrity or had just done something impossible.

"This is important," she tapped the notebook with one hand as she reached for the box with the other before it was slapped away. She couldn't help but give a glare at the blonde girl. Both knew it wasn't real anyway.

" They're not just for you Mari, the cheese bread is for Plagg, The honey glazed donut is for Pollen and the cookies are for Tikki. " Oh, yeah. She was even in on their identities. "The rest is for us."

Before either of the three could blink the three aforementioned Kwamis had zipped out of their chosens clothes pockets, grabbed their snacks and had snuck back into a little nook in their clothes that hid them from view of the public eye. They were none the wiser.

"Alright, so you two understand the plan right? Cause I don't want to leave anything to chance."

 Chloe hummed as she bit into her croissant, savoring the flavour before swallowing it down. "Wait for an Akuma, kick its ass without using our powers, go to Hawkdouch's house, kick his Ass, save the day."

 Plagg and Pollen both giggled while Adrien gave a quiet chuckle while Marinette groaned but had an amused smile on her face.

"Ok, so you remember the back up plan should we fail and our identities be revealed?"

" if we fail then Hawkmoth will have our miraculous, there is no back up plan for that. " Adrien slumped his arm around Mari's shoulder, giving her a tentative squeeze. "We do have a plan for after outing my... My father's identity."

" We also have a plan should we win and reveal our identities, so we're covered on all fronts. " Chloe moved one hand down to pet pollen on the head, reassuring herself that she still wasn't dreaming.

"Yeah well I jus- Chloe on your six." Quicker then anything the kwami's flew back into their Chosen's pockets , abandoning their food. Mari had packed up the pictures and notebook, not wanting to leave anything out in the open.

Chloe turned to see several of their classmates quickly heading their way, Alya up front with a crocodile tear crying Lila at the back of the group. Yes group, most of the class was also coming along with the two of them.

What lie had she said now?

The trio quickly stood, not wanting to be left sat on the floor while everyone would stand above them. They couldn't get a word out before Alya had rounded on to them.

"What is wrong with you!?"

She sighed, Adrien wrapped and arm around her waist as he leaned his chin on her shoulder and Chloe simple rolled her eyes at the tabloid writer.

"I think that question is best when directed at you, don't you think?" Marinette couldn't stop the snort that erupted from her mouth at Chloe's words and it only brought on a glare from her ex-friend.

"You think this is funny!? Is this some kind of joke to you!? Not only have you three been the worst people I could ever have the displeasure of knowing but I can't believe you three out attack Lila... Again!"

This time Chloe snorted before dragging her hand up to look at her nails lazily. "Please, as if I'd dare risk the chance of breaking my nails, even if it meant putting a scratch on her. She's simply not worth it." 

"Then explain the many bruises she has on her. " The 'Bruises' she had was nothing but a small smudge on the lower bottom of her right cheek. Honestly how stupid could they be?

Best not to get an answer.

If they were to attack Lila? There be a lot more then one mark smaller then that of a baby's fist.

"Alya, it's probably best you leave, the rest of you too. We were having a... Nice day before you bothered us." Mari rolled her eyes at her boyfriends passive behaviour but understood that it stemmed from not wanting to draw his father's gaze, especially now.

"No, I don't think we will. At least not until I put you three menaces straight. " The trio turned towards the new voice. 

a girl that they hadn't seen before or noticed among the group. A first glance they could tell she was slightly taller then Marinette, her hair a dark shade of blue that made Marinette's hair seem brighter in comparison, clearly it was dyed. Her facial features conformed similarly to her as well, slightly. As small glance while in a darker environment might have you mistake the two of them but only an idiot would do so outside of those conditions. Her hair was even tied up just like Marinette's too, although it looked really sloppy.

"And you are?" Chloe had already puffed out, an air of superiority emanating from her.

"I am Brigitte, a friend of Lila." Oh, great just what they needed, another sheep to follow the wolf. "I am also Ladybug."

Wait. What?

it took a moment before it registered but when it did the three of them just put laughing, Chloe had to hold her stomach while Marinette and Adrien had to hold each other up and stop themselves from falling over.

"Of course you are, and I'm still queen bee and adrien's father is actually competent." She sneered at the false bluentte before turning her nose up at her. She couldn't believe this girl, to claim to be someone she wasn't.

"Well I am, the only reason I am gracing you with that information is because I can't approach you three in my uniform, not unless I wanted to attract unnecessary attention." Brigitte turned her nose up at Chloe trying, and failing, to put the blonde girl in line.

"Alright then, why are you going around telling everyone your identity then? Surely it's not safe to share that information with a tabloid journalist."

Alya sputtered slightly. " I am a reporter, not some low grade tabloid writer. "

"Keep telling yourself that. You might just believe it."

The only thing that stopped Alya from lunging for Chloe was Ivan , who had grabbed her to hold her back. At the back Of the group Lila out on a who new set of false tears and began to shake her shoulders, as if she was truly heartbroken.

"All I've ever tried to do was be your friend, to all of you, and this is how you treat me? It's all I've ever wanted really and you three keep pushing me away." Of course the immediate action taken up by everyone else was to glare at the trio while rose and Sabrina comforted the sausage haired girl.

Adrien sometimes questions why he wanted them to be his friends, what has he seen in them before?

"Right," and now false-bug was talking again. "As my authority as ladybug I hereby ban the three of you from ever being near my friends again."

" Works for us. "

"I will also have to send you three down to the station, I do believe the three of you are working for Hawkmoth, given the number of Akuma that the three of you have caused."

That caused the three of them to straighten up, not because of the threat but because of the clear misuse of a non-existent power.

"Hey, Chloe has changed a lot in the past few months and me and Adrien have cause two maybe three Akumas over the past three years, if we're going on who had caused the most Akumas then you should arrest Lila. " Mari removed herself from her boyfriend before walking up to her not quite accurate doppelganger.

"Besides I'm not convinced you are ladybug, where's your Miraculous, I don't see them. "

"Like I'd actually wear them out in public, putting them at risk like that. besides why would I reveal them When I suspect that you work for Hawkmoth, would be pretty stupid on my part wouldn't it? "

"Sorry dudes, " Nino spoke, doing his best to help Ivan calm down Alya. "But she makes a point, it would be pretty dumb and reckless."

 " Just like plastering her face and confession onto a well known website in case Hawkmoth ever saw it... But I suppose I shouldn't have to worry right? " Alya blanched slightly before she sunk back at adriens words.

before anyone else could say anything a loud shout echoed across the yard, sending everyone's fight or flight instincts into overdrive.

"I AM MOTHER NATURE! AN I WILL COVER THIS CITY WITH THE SEEDS OF THE EARTH!"

Each member of the class had shrunk in on themselves , trying to look as small as possible, even their 'ladybug '. The real superhero trio stood up tall, shoulders squaring out as they looked for the akuma, many plants were growing rapidly on the other side of the park but everyone has already ran away.

"Go on ladybug, save us. "

"Come on, go kick their ass LB."

" Show Hawkmoth that he's nothing. "

Brigitte, for her part, actually began to back off from the group, clearly neither she nor Lila had expected a real akuma to show up, how would it look if the real ladybug showed up while she was stood there?

Fortunately for them the class was in for one big show.

While that was happening the trio was staring at each other, having a mental conversation that transcended anything anyone else could have understood, after a moment the tree of them nodded.

"Full theatrics?"

Marinette hummed at adriens question before nodding. "Fuck It, why not? "

"Tikki."

"Plagg."

"Pollen."

The class had turned to them quickly , those that had used miraculous before dropping their jaws.

"Spots on." "Claws Out. " "Buzz On."

Just for the sake of running it in their classmates faces each of them went through their old routine , showing off what they posed as they transformed before their very eyes.

Before anyone could say anything, the three were gone, already fighting the akuma as a well oiled machine.

They watched, stunned, as they managed to do it without the use of any of their powers. They watched as they left the scene all three bounding off in the same direction.

later that day the trio would drop a beaten and bloody Gabriel and his assistant, they have a short speech on that they had won, Hawkmoth was defeated, the threat was no more, Paris was safe. Th he people were safe to weap once more.

The next day Alya had tried to go to the bakery to speak to Marinette but she had been quickly chased out by her large father, later that day the bakery put out a sign stating they were closing down.

A week passed and they were gone, without a trace, no-one has seen them since the incident at the park. They were gone without a trace.

[ironmansuuucks]

Fifty Shades of Tired

dewey finn x reader 

heyyyoo, me and the wonderful @thewolfisapartofmysoul​ have once again collabed to give you this sweet, fluffy dewey finn x dreader and we hope you love it so much - it’s soft and easy going and is about heading to the beach one a wind with our sweet boy - lotsa love xxx

moodboard by the amazing @thewolfisapartofmysoul​ 🧡🧡

It was a windy sunday and you woke up this morning in your favorite way... by Dewey's lulling voice and the feeling of his arms pulling you closer into him. When you stirred awake in his embrace his sleepy, hoarse voice hummed in your hair: "The wind is howling sweety... you know what that means..." 

 You smiled instantly, bolting upright and threw the cosy covers off you. You bounced up to face Dewey and squealed: "Ocean-time?!!" 

 Dewey let out a low chuckle at your excited behaviour and tried to wipe away the sleep of his face. 

 You bounced over the bed towards him and launched yourself on him enthusiastically. You ruffled his hair happily and pressed a quick kiss on his mouth. His scruff tickled against your face and he lazily tangled his hand in your messy bedhead. Trying to ground your bouncing for a bit.

 He sleepily lulled against your lips: "Yeah... sweetheart... i meant ocean time..."

 You squealed happily and Dewey couldn't hold back a dopey grin. Seeing his girl so happy made him happy too.

 You loved the ocean. Absolutely loved it. He tried to continue mumbling and threw his arms around your waist again: "...Five more minutes of cuddling?”

 As excited as you were... you knew Dewey would need a bit of time to start the day. He was the complete opposite of you in that aspect. But... you couldn't say no to sleepy-Sunday-cuddles. No matter how excited you were. 

You pressed a kiss on his scruffy cheek and snuggled closer into his body heat under the covers. His hand lazily stroke your hair and you heard his breathing even out again. You nuzzled your nose in the crook of his neck and watched the sleep take Dewey away. You kept your eyes on the clock. You loved cuddles... but you loved the ocean more. And it was calling you. 

 A cup of cinnamon-coffee and a 40 minute drive later the two of you came to your parking spot near the ocean. 

As soon as you jumped out of the van the wind just about swept you off of your feet. Your hair curling around your face dramatically and the icy breeze catching your fingers. But it all made up for it when you heard the aggressive sounding waves bounce off one another and the shore, and that sea salty smell you loved so much.

Dewey came around and met you at the front of the van. He was all bundled up with his hat and big jacket on as he rubbed his hands together to heat them up. It was chilly.

His big doughy brown eyes caught yours, then they wondered down to your jacket. He knitted his eyebrows before his hands came up and zipped up your jacket more to keep you warm. It’s the little gestures.

“thank you honey-dew” you smiled lovingly at him.

“can’t have my girl catching a cold”. He kissed your nose sweetly before taking your hand in his as you both plodded down to the shore.

Dewey knew how much you loved the beach. He didn’t understand it, but he knew. He knew how much you loved how the wind nipped at your nose and fingers, and how the sand and sea air made your hair feel textured, and just how you had some sort of calling to the water.

But you were drawn to it more than he knew. There was an unknown calling that drew you here. For some reason you felt the real purpose of life here. You feel it in the rise and crash of the waves, and in the sand under your feet. It reminded that you were alive. It was your utmost favourite place.

You breathed in deeply through your nose. Inhaling that salty familiar smell, it filing up your senses. “breathe it in Dew, isn’t it amazing”.

“I mean all I can taste is salt but sure” he chuckled, mesmerised by how at home you felt here.

Suddenly you were prancing in front of him, holding both of his hands and skipping backwards, your hair getting all caught in your face.

“let’s run”.

Dewey knitted his eyebrows and widened his eyes “run?!?!”.

You nodded eagerly and pulled his arms “c’mon”.

“baaabbbee nooo, its Sunday… I’m like.. fifty shades of tired right now” he groaned.

You started to run, dragging Dewey behind you behind you. He was holding down his hat with one hand and held your hand in the other, pulling him on.

It felt so good. The air brushing your face. It felt like the whole of mother nature was pushing against you, making your eyelashes dance, and your cheeks turn rosy in the cold.

But after a few seconds you stopped. It was Sunday morning after all and you both certainly were not in any kinda state to be running for miles, especially not after the bottle of wine you finished between one another the night before.

Dewey came crashing behind you, putting both of his arms around you and kind of spinning you, being silly. You giggled at the sudden attention, catching your breath a little.

“you are gonna be the death of me y/n, you know that?” he joked as he kissed your cheek multiple times.

You turned around in his embrace and flung your arms around his neck. “hmm yeah but you love it”. You kissed him quickly.

He closed his eyes and continued to kiss you.

“hmm yeah, I defo do love you”.

You pulled away quickly. Your eyes going wide.

Dewey looked at you with a confused expression. “what?”

See the thing was, neither of you had actually said the L word properly like that before. you often stayed over with one another and had done every other relationship thing under the book, but this was the only one missing.

You blinked a few times as a grin spread across your face.

Dewey shook his head a few times again in confusion. “wha- oooooh” he started to blush. His cheeks tinting a rosy red as he went all bashful.

“I.. I love you too Dewey” you grinned at him as your hand went up to cup his face lovingly.

You placed a gentle kiss on his lips as he squeezed you a little in excitement.

“you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that”. He beamed.

tags: @paxenera​ @heknowshisherbs​ @missihart23​ @geminiacally​ @go-commander-kim​ @gegehaddock​@baby-beej​ @sadpuppetshows​ @hoodoo12​ @large-unit​ @thats-specific​ @vicunaburger​ @stranger-strings​ @bugdrinkss​@ssheinaa​ @demonwifey​ @beetle-herbs​ @bugdrinkss​ 

[vangoghmusings]

noise complaint- self ship

pairing: kuroo x pat

warnings: alcohol, smoking, party culture, sexual assault ptsd 

word count: 2589

a/n: HNGKNSFKLS THIS IS LAME BUT i just wanted to imagine patsuro in my current college setting :’)) this is self indulgent and kinda comfort fluff?? and yes i’m aware i seem like a bitch i tried to be as honest about how i act in irl,, otherwise enjoy... 

Patricia hummed and shut her eyes happily as the sun hit her face. She swung her keys attached to her lanyard as she made her way to her campus apartment. As a sophomore in college, she was honestly surprised she even made it past one year. Her strength was in street smarts rather than book smarts, yet here she was. She waved to a few familiar faces as she walked through the campus and made her way into her dorm building. She was beyond ecstatic for this school year, living with her best friends and delving further into her major.  

She stopped at her door, covered in decorations she had made with her roommates. She smiled softly, a sense of hope for the school year filling her.  

That hope quickly faded as she heard a familiar voice while she attempted to open the door to her apartment.  

“Patricia!”  

She looked over to see a tall messy haired boy walking towards her. She sighed and turned to him, leaning against her locked door.  

“Kuroo.”  

He rolled his eyes and stopped in front of her.  

“Why do you only call me by my last name?”  

“Because I can’t just give you the satisfaction of letting you hear me say your real name, can I?”  

He sighed and looked down at her as she lazily crossed her arms over her chest.  

“How was your summer?”  

“Fine, I worked a lot.”  

“The garden center, right?”

“Mhm.”  

Kuroo nodded and looked down at his feet. He was aware Patricia wasn’t fond of him. Frankly she couldn’t help it. He didn’t know but she was terrified of men. Previous trauma had developed into PTSD which manifested into a constant state of anger towards any man that came her way. It wasn’t healthy or right but it's how it was. However, Kuroo saw this as flat out hatred rather than a deep-rooted fear.  

“Well,” He said before clearing his throat. “I just wanted to let you know I’m your floor RA this year.”  

Patricia nodded slowly and gave him a soft smile.  

“Cool, I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”  

“Thanks, but you should be aware I’ll be strict about underage drinking and-”  

Patricia gasped and placed her hand on her chest in mock offense.  

“Me? Drinking? Oh Kuroo, I’m not that kind of girl.”  

Kuroo raised a brow and gave her a doubtful look.  

“Still playing the good Catholic school girl act?”  

Patricia chuckled and hummed looking down at her feet and back up at Kuroo.  

“This is a Catholic university, I’m a girl, and I’m literally majoring in Theology. I don’t know if that’s an act. I’m as much of a goodie two shoes as you are Kuroo.”  

“I highly doubt-”  

“And besides,” She said with a snide grin, “if we don’t sin a little, then Jesus died for nothing right?”  

Kuroo scoffed and before he could form a sentence to combat her ridiculous statement, she unlocked her door and gave him a wave.  

“Don’t worry Kuroo, just because I own a key to the campus sacristy, doesn’t mean I’ll steal the holy wine.”  

He gaped as she slid into her apartment, giving him a teasing wink, and hearing the door lock.  

That following Friday, Patricia found herself trapped in the same hallway.  

“Gretchen is DDing right?” She asked her roommate while adjusting her mini backpack.  

“Yup!” Her roommate, Dashi chirped while texting. Patricia grinned and turned to lock the door when she heard a familiar ‘tsk’. She sighed and looked to see Kuroo dressed down in gray sweatpants and a t-shirt. He looked oddly good, or was it her Friday night hunger?  

“Kuroo!” She sang and gave him a big grin.  

“Patricia, Dashi,” He said, giving a nod at each girl. He paused slightly, looking Patricia up and down. She was usually caught wearing leggings and baggy t-shirts with hiking sandals, but tonight, she wore jeans, heels, and a black body suit that was probably more low-cut than it should’ve been. She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers in his face.  

“Kuroo, you pervert. What do you want?” She glared up at him, propping her hand on her waist.  

He blinked, his face flush with embarrassment.  

“You look nice.”  

Patricia nodded and gave him a tart smile.  

“Thanks. Did you need something?”  

Dashi watched, her eyes peering away from her phone screen. It was painful to watch. Patricia was usually quite good at reading people, however the image of the flustered boy in front of her didn’t seem to connect the dots of attraction in her mind.  

“Just, be safe tonight okay?”  

She rolled her eyes a began to walk out the door, Dashi at her side.  

“Will do,” She cooed while giving him a mocking salute while walking backwards and turning on her heel as she got to the door.  

Kuroo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. She was just so fake. A doe-eyed attentive student in class, participating and kissing ass for professors, working for campus ministry, running the prayer nights, leading religious retreats, and going to church on Sundays. Yet now she was out and ready to do God knows what. She was a sly liar, and she loved every minute of being a complete enigma.  

Dashi and Patricia reached the apartment, a dorm complex nicknamed the Hive by students. It was where the buzz happened while everyone got buzzed. Patricia grinned at the feeling of the floor vibrating and the air smelling like sweat and weed. The messy sensation always managed to bring her joy. They shuffled inside, the apartment packed with drunken and high college students. Patricia inhaled the hot air deeply and scanned the living room for a familiar face.  

There sat one of her roommates Mix on their boyfriend's lap, rolling a join with nimble fingers as he softly kissed their neck. She chuckled, those two were attached at the hip. She pointed them out to Dashi and they made their way over.  

“Mix!” Patricia sang and gave her roommate a wave.  

“Pat Pat!” They gasped and stumbled getting up. Ushijima, their boyfriend set his hands on their hips to help them regain balance. They giggled, their usual stone demeanor diminished under the ruse of weed and alcohol. “Here!! You need to catch up,” They said, licking the joint to seal it and then handing It over to her.  

“Aw thanks Mix!” Patricia gave a thankful smile as Ushijima handed her the lighter that he managed to tuck behind his ear. She lit the joint and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fall from her nose slowly. Mix clapped happily as she chuckled and handed the joint to Dashi.  

“Tay is in the kitchen by the way,” Ushijima said softly. Patricia nodded and gave the couple each a pat on the head before sneaking into the kitchen, the idea of a cup of WOP calling her name. She smiled seeing Tay who was talking to a boy who she recognized from her ceramics class as Touya.  

“Taaaay,” She sang before giving her roommate a hug. Tay laughed and hugged back.  

“Hey love!” Tay smiled, a dreamy expression on her face, either from alcohol or talking to the very attractive boy. Patricia giggled and gave her a nod of approval before going to pour herself a cup of whatever the hell was in the WOP tonight. She knew she needed to catch up, deciding to down the cup, despite the burn in her throat.  

“Shit,” she mumbled before refilling the cup. She took a few leisurely sips before returning to the smoking sesh with Mix and Ushijima, Dashi had disappeared onto the dance floor and appeared to be grinding on a very flustered yellow haired boy. Patricia picked up the still hot joint and brought it to her lips, taking a slow drag before looking over at Mix, who seemed to be whispering in Ushijima’s ear, his face a deep crimson at every word they spoke. Patricia giggled and took another sip, the joint tucked between her index and middle finger as she held the cup. She was buzzed, giggly and light, but nothing major. The struggles of a high alcohol tolerance.  

“AYO QUIET!”  

The shout was heard over the hum of the party, and the music quickly died. There was a knock on the door.  

“RA on call! We got a noise complaint.”  

Patricia blinked and sighed. The other party goers where shuffling around to hide and scattering in different directions. Too irritated to care, she went to open the door, knowing that if they made the RA wait any longer that campus police would show up. She opened the door and if her frown couldn’t get any bigger, it did.  

There stood Kuroo with his RA fanny-pack sitting across his chest. He seemed to have matching smile, that only grew into shock as he watched Patricia take sip of her drink while continuing to make eye contact with him.  

“We got a noise complaint?” She asked, her half-lidded eyes a shade of pink.  

Kuroo narrowed his own eyes and stepped inside.  

“You know I have to report this as illegal activity.”  

She sighed and nodded, taking the cup in her other hand and taking a puff from the joint, blowing it gently in Kuroo’s face. He winced at the smell and she smiled softly.  

“Yeah, I know.”  

He scoffed and glared at her as she set the items down, stepping out into the hallways and closing the door behind her.  

“Theres a lot of people in there. Just mark me down, ok? I don’t want you to have the reputation of the hated RA.”  

He tilted his face at the oddly considerate offer but proceeded to shake his head.  

“I can’t do that, that’s against the rules.”  

Patricia gave and exasperated sigh and leaned against the wall of the hallway, the dim yellow lights exposing her red cheeks and red eyes.  

“I’m just trying to help you out, Tetsuro.”  

He blinked.  

“You said my first name.”  

“It's a means of persuasion,” she replied before reaching up to push her hair out of her face. “C’mon,” She said while beginning to walk down the hall. “Let's go back home so you can rest, and I can watch Netflix.”  

Kuroo watched as she swayed slightly as she walked and huffed, walking beside her. As by instinct, he reached to take her hand as a means of balancing her, but she quickly swatted it away, fear plastered on her face.  

“W-What are you doing?” She asked, holding her hand close to her chest, her eyes full of uncertainty.  

“I-I-, you we’re swaying a lot and I didn’t want you to fall over.”  

Patricia eyed him, rubbing her hands together anxiously.  

“Thats it? Swear you won’t pull anything?”  

Kuroo frowned, offended by her accusation.  

“Do you think I’m that kind of person?”  

She looked down at her hands, tears welling in her eyes.  

“Aren’t all boys like that?”  

Kuroo looked down stunned, at first from offence, but then by the fact that the usually relaxed and cheerful Patricia looked like she had seen a ghost. He quickly connected the dots and nodded slowly.  

“I’m sorry...but I can assure you I’m not like that.”  

She looked up at him, tears ready to spill. Kuroo bit his lip in hesitation, but slowly reached up to gingerly wipe her tears away with his thumbs.  

“I promise,” He whispered.  

Patricia stared at him with wide glassy eyes, searching his face for any sort of evidence that he was lying. When she couldn’t find any, she dove into his chest, hugging him tightly.  

“Thank you,” she cried softly into his chest, his shirt getting wet from her tears. He hushed her gently and hugged back, rubbing her back gently. As soon as she was able to catch her breath, Patricia focused on the feeling of Kuroo’s large hands rubbing her back sweetly. There was no sense of malice or any sign that he would hurt her. So, she relished in the newfound sense of safety.  

She sniffled and looked up at him, pulling away quickly.  

“Sorry,” she croaked out while weakly gesturing to the tear stain on his chest.  

He shrugged, “It's just salt water. Let's get you some water and sober you up okay?”  

Patricia nodded and looked down, pouting slightly like a small child, still swaying with each step. Kuroo chuckled and once again reached for her hand as she walked. Except this time, she didn’t pull away.  

Once they reached the dorm hall, Kuroo looked down at Patricia, who seemed to have calmed down.  

“Is it cool if we go to my apartment. I’ve got bottled water and double stuffed Oreos.”  

“Those are my favorite,” She said with a sniffle.  

Kuroo chuckled and nodded.  

“Yeah I know, you put them on your resident introduction sheet.”  

She nodded, remembering the form she filled out before moving into her new residence hall.  

They reached Kuroo’s door and walked inside. Patricia looked around and the surprisingly clean apartment.  

“Here,” he said, bringing her back to earth, “Water.”  

She nodded and took the bottle, chugging it down quickly. A dribble of water rand down her chin and down her chest, causing Kuroo to look away flushed. She furrowed her eyes at him and lazily wiped her lips.  

“Hm?”  

“Nothing,” Kuroo mumbled, looking away in embarrassment. Patricia rolled her eyes and jumped to sit up on his countertop.  

“Have you ever done anything with a girl Kuroo?”

Kuroo blinked and looked down at his feet, his usual prideful demeanor gone.  

“Not really. Just like making out and stuff.”  

“So, you’re a virgin?” She asked him, tilting her head in curiosity. Her eyes were no longer noticeably puffy and her face was much less red as before.  

“I mean...I guess.”  

Patricia nodded slowly, eyeing Kuroo up and down as if she was analyzing every little thing about him. He was undeniably handsome. She was almost upset it took her a small break down to realize how truly caring he seemed. Just because he was a figure of authority shouldn’t have equated a dislike for him. She eyed his soft pink lips and smiled slightly. He really was pretty.  

“Do you want to kiss Tetsuro?”  

Kuroo looked up at her, sincerity in her face. There was something about the way she said his name that just felt like pure velvet.  

“I-, are you sure?”  

She nodded and gave him a soft smile.  

“Yeah, plus I want to kiss you.”  

Kuroo nodded slowly and stepped in between Patricia’s knees which hung off the counter.  

“May I?” He asked quietly, his hands hovering above her thighs. She giggled softly and nodded. Kuroo placed his large hands on her thighs and she smiled looking down at him and back up at his face. He loomed over her.  

“You’re tall,” She hummed in a whisper.  

Slowly, she brought her hand up to the collar of his shirt and tugged him down to her level gently. She gaped her mouth open, Kuroo’s lips grazing hers in anticipation. Patricia smiled before closing her eyes and leaning into Kuroo, their lips molding together. The kisses started out subtle, but soon turned heated and Patricia wound up with her hands against his chest, biting down gently on his bottom lip. She pulled away with a slight tug and let go, her eyes opening to look at Kuroo’s bright pink face. She giggled and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek.  

“Thank you for the water.”  

[jaxl-road]

Suffocate

This is a sequel to Shiver//Shake, and I def recommend reading that one first so this one makes more sense lol

Summary: Tommy and Nikki are together, but the secrecy is wearing on Tommy. And a lot of things are wearing on Nikki.

Warnings: None, but let me know if I missed anything

~~~

On God, Tommy couldn’t believe his plan had actually worked.

To be fair, at first it had been spectacularly not working. And honestly, he hadn’t even been thinking long-term when he felt a light bulb in his brain and offered his bed to keep Nikki warm- he just wanted to greedily get a little closer to the bassist, and if he could keep the other man warm at the same time, well, win-win. 

But every single night Nikki wound up colder and farther away. At the time, Tommy couldn’t fathom why Nikki kept agreeing to come back. 

Then Nikki started shaking.

Tommy’s heart broke a little as he watched the bassist struggle to breathe, trembling viciously, trying to hide, trying to run. In that moment, Tommy had been certain he had ruined everything. He had obviously overstepped and freaked Nikki out with his underhanded attempts at closeness. Maybe it was karma for his deception, but that didn’t feel fair because Nikki was the one hurting. 

He had been fully prepared to apologize, leave, and walk directly into the ocean when Nikki kissed him. Nikki kissed him. It felt like his brain shorted out and he was more than a little convinced that this was a very vivid fever dream, because there was no way, there was just no way the beautiful, talented, amazing man beneath him was kissing him. 

But he was and Tommy felt like he was in heaven, pulling this dark angel closer and kissing him again and again for the rest of the night until he fell asleep with his lips still on his skin.

When he opens his eyes hours later, Nikki is already awake. Or maybe still awake, Tommy can never quite tell.He is lazily stroking patterns onto Tommy’s collarbone, fingers brushing softly against his skin in a way that makes the drummer’s heart beat just a little faster.

“Morning.”

His voice is soft, but Nikki pulls his hand back abruptly, green eyes darting up to meet his with a shaky smile, “Hi, morning, hi. Sorry, did I wake you up?”

Tommy chuckled, and pulled him closer, burying his nose in messy black locks. Their chests pressed together, he could feel the slight hitch in Nikki’s breath, “Nah, you’re good. Besides, even if you had, I’d probably deserve it considering how many times I woke you up the last few days.

Nikki laughed, and he relaxed a bit more in Tommy embrace, “Oh shit, I didn’t think of that. Tomorrow I’m definitely putting a cockroach on your face.”

“Fuck, I’m pretty sure they’d hear me screaming down at the Whiskey!” Tommy shuddered at the thought. He could only handle bugs when they were on the other end of a flamethrower, “Come on, forgive me? I was good last night, right?” He grinned mischievously at the way Nikki’s cheeks tinged red.

Scoffing, the bassist shoved at his chest lightly, “Not that good, asshole.”

“True, the fact that you woke up before me means I’m not trying hard enough,” A look of exaggerated offense paints Nikki’s face, but before he can respond, Tommy is darting forward to kiss him.

Kissing Nikki is different during the day than it was at night. In the dark, despite Tommy’s elation, despite the joy and wonder and sheer love coursing through his veins, part of it didn’t feel real. Like if he let go of Nikki he would have never been there. Like he was always just a blink away from waking up and finding out it was all a dream.

But now, with the first rays of light starting to drift through the window, he can see every shade in Nikki’s green eyes when they widen in surprise. He can see the way Nikki leans towards him, chasing after him when he pulls back to breathe. He can see the tremor in Nikki’s smile, little pinpricks of disbelief escaping from behind the bliss.

Tommy giggled, “Fuck, you’re cute.”

“Shut up, I have a reputation.”

“You’re the cutest badass.”

 “Fuck off.”

“But it’s true!”

“I’m going to shave your head in the middle of the night.”

“That won’t make it less true,” he laughed as Nikki glared half-heartedly. God, Tommy loved this boy. Stealing one last kiss, he reluctantly disentangled himself, sitting up to stretch his arms over his head, “Hm, I need coffee or something.”

“Trust me, you never need caffeine,” Nikki smirked as Tommy shoved his arm playfully.

“Whatever, let’s see if this trash heap has any fucking food in it today,” standing, the drummer can’t help but smile. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so chipper to start the day. But then, he’s never had Nikki to start the day with. 

He’s only taken a few steps though when Nikki’s hand circles his wrist, tugging him to a stop, “Can we…” his eyes dart around the room as he hesitates, “Can we not… tell Mick and Vince about…. this… just yet?”

Tommy frowned, “Why? They won’t care, dude. And if they do I’ll fight them. Or something,” he smiles, and Nikki chuckles lightly, but he doesn’t relax.

“I know, I know. I just…” He keeps pausing, keeps stalling, and it’s strange to see the bassist so uncertain. So unsteady. Like the aftershocks of the panic that shook him the night before. “Just for a little bit? Just for a little while, can this just be… ours?”

In all honesty, Tommy didn’t get it. He was never one for keeping secrets, especially when it came to his feelings for people. But this is important to Nikki, and Nikki is important to him. Besides, he figures, it’s not an unreasonable request.

So the drummer smiled, leaning forward to peck the other man on the lips, “Sure man, we’ll keep it to ourselves for now. No biggie.”

Nikki sighs softly in relief and the tension starts to bleed out of him, “Thank you.”

As Tommy entwined their fingers, pulling the bassist out of the bedroom, there’s a thought like a whisper in the back of his head.

He’s beautiful when he’s not afraid.

~

The morning continues like normal, but better. Tommy still makes Nikki wait until noon to start drinking, Nikki still reads the ingredient list on a bag of Doritos and tries to argue why it totally counts as a balanced breakfast, and Tommy still eats cereal by the handful straight from the box.

But now when Nikki drops onto the couch, Tommy drops right on top of him, stretching out to cover his body and kiss him and they both laugh and make faces because cool ranch and sugar cereal is not the best mix of flavors but they keep kissing anyway. 

Time creeps forward, and soon it’s almost time for Mick and Vince to arrive for rehearsal. Tommy had every intention of kissing Nikki until the second the band walked through the door, but the bassist pulled away.

“Dude, they’re gonna be here any minute!”

“Yeah, so I get at least one more minute of you,” Tommy smirked.

Nikki rolled his eyes pushing the drummer gently, “You’re insatiable. Go set up your drums, fucker!” He laughed when Tommy pouted dramatically. Reluctantly, the drummer went and sat by his equipment while Nikki tuned his bass.

A few minutes later (a few minutes of lost kisses, Tommy thought bitterly) Mick arrived, walking in unceremoniously with a nod in the boys’ direction. This was directly contrasted five minutes later when Vince burst in, throwing the door open and spreading his arms dramatically, “Sup, bitches! You ready to rock?”

“We’ve literally just been waiting on you, blondie,” Mick deadpanned.

“You can’t rush perfection!”

“I can and I will, now get your ass in place,” Nikki dragged the singer over, shoving a handful of lyrics into his hands as Vince laughed. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent playing and practicing, each song polishing the four musicians into a real band. Tommy always loved these hours- he loved the music, but he loved the people even more. Watching Mick let loose and rock out passionately, and Vince dancing around the room, and Nikki grinning widely with his hair flying around his face. They bickered and teased and threw insults like breathing, but they always laughed, and when they finally called an end to practice they always stuck around to just hang out together.

“We gotta start looking for a venue, we’ve almost got a full set down!” Nikki opened his beer enthusiastically, practically throwing the bottle cap in his excitement. 

“Ooooh, we should start planning our outfits,” Vince grinned, “If we want to make a statement, we gotta do it right!”

“Please, we all know you’re gonna raid your girlfriend’s closet the day before,” Mick raised an eyebrow, but his lips twitched towards a smile.

Tommy laughed, “Dude, you have to admit, girl jeans are just better,” he dropped onto the couch between Nikki and Mick, throwing an arm around the bassist’s shoulders. He didn’t think anything of it. Until he felt Nikki tense next to him. 

His smile fell, just slightly, and when he looked at Nikki out of the corner of his eye, he could see him clutching his beer, knuckles almost white and a plastic smile on his face. He doesn’t pull away though. Tommy turns back to the others, not wanting to draw any attention to the other man, but inside he was just confused. He wasn’t doing anything blatant, or unusual. They were the terror twins- they were always close and affectionate. Hell, they had probably sat together in this position a hundred times before. If anything it’d be more suspicious if they didn’t hang all over each other.

Nikki eased up a bit over time, but for the rest of the night Tommy couldn’t help but feel like he was being more… deliberate. Like he was planning everything out in his head before moving or speaking or laughing. Like he was carefully calculating exactly where to be so he wasn’t too close or too distant from the drummer.

Tommy felt exhausted for him.

Eventually, when all four reached a level of pleasantly buzzed, Mick left with a casual wave, and Nikki turned to Vince, “You going back to your girlfriend’s place?”

“Oh,” Vince’s eyes widened, even as he tried to speak with an air of dismissiveness, “nah, we decided it wasn’t really working out and-”

“She dumped your ass, didn’t she.”

“Wha- she did not! If anything, I dumped her.”

“Suuuure you did,” Nikki laughed, Tommy snorting next to him.

Vince huffed, “We just decided we needed a little space, that’s all. She’ll be back in no time.”

Elbowing Nikki gently, Tommy grinned mischievously, “Hey Nik, you think Vince wants to get in her pants or just wear her pants?”

“Good point,” he snickered, “Better start groveling now, Vinnie, if you want her outfit for our first show.”

The two friends laughed as Vince threw one of the couch pillows at them, “Oh, screw you guys!” He couldn’t hide his smile though, “You’re just jealous ‘cause I get pussy and free clothes.”

“True, I wish I was short enough to share my girlfriend’s clothes.”

“Okay, FUCK YOU!” jumping from his seat, Vince lunged at Nikki, who immediately leapt up and darted away, laughing maniacally as the singer chased him around the living room, jumping over the coffee table and knocking over empty bottles. Eventually, Vince got him in a headlock, both of them out of breath and laughing, “You motherfucker, I’m gonna light your fucking hair on fire!”

“Hey! You’re only allowed to light me on fire on stage!” Nikki fired back.

“Nobody is lighting anybody on fire!” Tommy declared, standing to pull the two apart as he giggled.

“Unless it’s on stage!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“… I’m not saying yes, but we can discuss it,” Tommy relented, Nikki and Vince high-fiving each other in victory.

Exhausted and buzzed, Vince stretched dramatically before retreating to his room for the night. As much as Tommy loved the blonde, he couldn’t help but bounce on his toes in excitement at having Nikki all to himself again.

Which was why he pouted like a child when Nikki started heading to his own room, “Hey, hey, hey! Where are you going? My room’s this way!”

Nikki stopped abruptly, turning to look at Tommy in surprise, “Oh, I…I was just…” he jerks his thumb towards his room, lowering his voice a bit, “I mean, since Vince is back…”

“So?” Tommy grinned mischievously, “One, neither of us are busty chicks, so Vince barely pays attention to us anyway,” Nikki snorted, tilting his head with a wry smile of agreement. Smirking, the drummer continued, “Two, he’s always the first one to bed and the last one up so he’d probably never even notice,” he received a hum of acknowledgement, “And three,” he stretched the word out as he sauntered up to the bassist, “we’re just keeping warm in our shitty, cold apartment, right? Just sharing body heat. Nothing weird there. Definitely nothing happening in that bed other than keeping you from freezing to death. So nothing for Vince to think twice about.”

He wraps his arms loosely around Nikki’s neck, grinning down at him. The bassist still seems hesitant, and he opens his mouth as if to object…

…But then his teeth click shut, and he gives a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “You make a solid argument, T-Bone.”

Tommy burst into a wide smile, too happy to dwell on any subtleties hiding in the other boy’s expression,  “You’re damn right I do,” he tugged him forward back towards his own room, and Nikki followed easily.

Though he never seemed to fully relax that night.

~

Weeks pass like a roller coaster. Up and down and up and down.

It’s up when Motley Crue has their first show, and after the unexpected brawl got broken up, they actually had a pretty decent set. After that, they were performing at least once a week, and the crowd got bigger each time, cheering and dancing and screaming for an encore. It was exhilarating, and so much fun, and all of them were practically giddy with excitement. 

Well. Almost.

It’s down because Nikki was happy, of course he was. But he was also terrified. Tommy could see it in the way he obsessed over their songs, tearing out pages and writing and rewriting and practicing on his own until Tommy found him plucking at his bass with bloody fingers. 

“I just don’t want to fuck this up,” he mumbled as the drummer pulled the bass away from him, “I’m fine, it’s fine, I just don’t want to fuck up.”

Tommy didn’t know what to say. So he settled for guiding Nikki to bed and stroking his hair until they both fell asleep. 

And it’s up, because God, Tommy loved him so much. He waited all day just for these moments where he could wrap Nikki in his arms, kiss every inch of his face, touch him, feel him, make him smile in the dark. He wouldn’t lie, it was hard at times, keeping it a secret. The drummer wanted nothing more than to shout his love for Nikki from the rooftops, to hold him close and kiss his hair and his cheek and his mouth at every opportunity. He wanted to brag to anyone who would listen and anyone who wouldn’t about how Nikki was his.

If Nikki wanted to keep things low-key for a bit though, Tommy could handle it. It was fine. 

But it also wasn’t. It was down, down, down, because the more time passed, the more Nikki felt like plastic under his hands. At first he could never seem to relax when they were around the others, but now even when they’re alone he can feel Nikki weighing every action in his head. Planning and scripting, everything deliberate, conscious, stiff. After a few weeks it starts to feel like he’s sleeping with a mannequin- like he could move Nikki however he wanted, place him like a doll, turn him this way and that, and he’d comply without a word. 

Was Nikki even happy with him?

A shudder ran through him at the thought. He loved the bassist so Goddamn much, and he didn’t want to be insecure about them- after all, Nikki had kissed him, that had to mean something, right? But at the same time, he wondered if all the secrecy was because he was in this deeper than Nikki. Maybe the other man regretted it, or had only wanted something physical and not emotional, or realized he was embarrassed by Tommy or something. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, and he wasn’t sure if it made him want to punch a wall, or cry, or drink until he died.

He was well on his way to the last option that night, almost three weeks since he and Nikki had gotten together. Motley Crue had killed another show, fans practically throwing themselves at them, and the four band members had decided to celebrate with a night at the strip club.

To be honest though, Tommy was tired. He was frustrated, and lovesick, and just wanted to curl up with Nikki who didn’t want to curl up with him. But he couldn’t express any of that, not with all the fucking secrets, so instead he snorted some coke, did too many shots, snorted some more coke, and sat right next to the main stage with Vince while Nikki and Mick relaxed at the bar across the room.

It helped a little, he supposed. The bright lights and loud music are a welcome distraction from his thoughts, and the drugs are starting to kick in, making him laugh a little easier. He’s got that hazy feeling in his peripheral vision when one of the dancers comes over and sets herself on his lap. He blinks a little in surprise, looking up at her plastic smile as she rolls her body against his. For a moment he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and it’s almost funny, how quickly he forgot about other bodies beyond Nikki’s. Turning his head, he glances over at where the bassist is sitting with Mick. Nikki is already looking at him.

The room is swaying slightly, back and forth like a boat at sea, and it makes it hard to figure out what emotion he’s seeing on Nikki’s face. The stripper in his lap puts her hands on Tommy’s neck and he figures Nikki is probably just jealous.

And that thought pisses him off.

How dare he feel jealous. Tommy would gladly trade the stripper for Nikki- would so much rather have the bassist sitting in his lap pressing closer and closer. But he said no. He’s the one who pulled away anytime there was a possibility of being caught. He’s the one who couldn’t bear to be seen with Tommy. He’s the one who insisted on keeping Tommy his dirty little secret. Nikki wasn’t allowed to be jealous.

Putting his hands on the stripper’s waist, Tommy pulled her closer. If Nikki didn’t want anyone to know, well then, Tommy better keep up appearances.

He’s not really feeling it, but he plays up the lap dance anyway. Pettiness drives him to exaggerate his lust, performing just as much as the woman in his lap for the man he knew was watching.

When the dance is over, the stripper takes her tips and hurries off. In hindsight Tommy realizes he must have gotten a little too handsy, but he can’t bring himself to care, downing another shot instead. He is getting ready to flag down another dancer when he feels a hand on his shoulder. The room spins when he turns around, and he sways in his seat. He might have fallen over if it weren’t for the hand holding him firmly. When his vision clears, Nikki is looking down at him, body stiff and face expressionless even as he tries to smile like he knows he’s expected to.

“Woah, steady there, T-Bone. How much have you had, dude?”

“Not nearly enough,” Tommy stood up abruptly, shaking Nikki’s hand off even as he stumbled over his own feet. He gets a few steps before the bassist is at his side again, hands out to help his shaky movements.

“Seriously man, you seem pretty wasted. I was just gonna let you know I was heading out, but maybe you should come with…” he trailed off questioningly, and Tommy felt his anger spike.

Fuck this.

“No,” he pushed Nikki back a few steps, swaying on his feet at the motion, “I think I want to stay. Haven’t gotten my fill just yet, and there’s still plenty of girls who wouldn’t mind being seen with me,” the words sound distant to his own ears, but the harsh sarcasm bites through the haze of alcohol.

Nikki pauses, and then narrowed his eyes. Even piss drunk as he was Tommy could practically feel the temperature drop, “I don’t know if you have enough cash for anyone to want to be seen with you right now,“ his voice is cold and sharp, “so maybe you’re better off going home and sleeping this off.”

Tommy feels the rage swell, mixed with something like hurt, or sorrow, or both, “You seem upset, babe,” he spits the word out and Nikki flinches back, eyes widening in surprise, “What’s the matter? I do something wrong? Am I only allowed to pay attention to you when it suits you?”

Even through his fury, Nikki’s eyes dart around nervously, “Shut the fuck up, Tom-”

“Why?” The drummer cut him off angrily, “I’m just shooting the shit with my friend, right? Unless there’s something you’d like to share with the class,” he spread his arm to gesture to the room, drawing a few glances.

There is a moment of standstill, where Nikki looks at him wide-eyed and hurt. But then his whole face steels, and when Nikki opens his mouth he could practically see the bassist sharpening the blade. When he speaks, it sounds like a hiss, “Keep this up and there won’t be anything to share.”

Deep down, the sober part of Tommy feels a little bit gutted. As Nikki starts to walk away, that feeling crawls through the layers of alcohol and cocaine and insecurity, and by the time it reaches the surface it has morphed into desperate, frantic rage.

“Don’t walk away from me!” He snaps, grabbing Nikki’s wrist and jerking him back.

His grip is firm, even as the other boy tugs his arm to try to escape, snarling, “Don’t fucking touch me!”

But Tommy holds tight, “You were the one who wanted this! You started this thing, so you don’t get to just pick and choose when you want me around!”

“Back off, T-Bone,” Nikki is tense, still trying to pull his arm free while Tommy gets more worked up.

“Oh, so now you don’t want me around? A minute ago you wanted my attention- What, you can’t make up your mind, baby?”

Nikki flinched again, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists, “I’m fucking serious, Tommy, let go!”

It infuriated Tommy, and without even thinking, he heard himself snap out, “You’ll crawl into my bed but you can’t handle a fucking pet name?”

“Alright! Hey! Take a step back, drummer!” Mick was suddenly between them, breaking Tommy’s hold on Nikki and pushing the teen back. He plants himself in front of the drummer, putting space between them. Separating the terror twins.

Later, Mick would reveal that he had no idea what the fuck the two kids were even fighting about- the loud music and hollering of the club patrons drowning out their words- but he saw Nikki with a look on his face like he was two seconds from tearing the drummer apart with his bare hands and figured he should step in.

As soon as he was released, Nikki stumbled away, clutching his wrist to his chest and staring at Tommy with wide eyes, wrathful and terrified. He speaks on an exhale, soft and breathy, “Fuck you, Tom.”

Mick’s hand is still on his chest, and Nikki is backing away, all teeth and snarl and cold, cold, cold, like ice water over Tommy’s head and the last ten minutes slam into him all at once and he feels suddenly sober, sees the man he loves getting farther away, getting covered by the crowd, and he thinks about how often Nikki calls himself a runaway.

“Wait,” his voice starts as a whisper, rapidly growing in volume and desperation, “wait wait wait-!”

“Go to Hell!”

With that, Nikki breaks eye contact, finally turning around and running. And then he’s gone.

Tommy thinks he might cry. “Fuck,” his voice cracks on the word.

In front of him, Mick still blocks his way, hand up to discourage him when he starts to move forward, “Easy, drummer, just let him cool off-”

“No, Mick, I need to go now, I fucked up, I-”

“Give him some time and then-”

“No! I need to go now! What if he-!”

“Can you guys please not get us kicked out of the best strip joint in town?”

Vince’s voice cut through the noise, sliding smoothly over to his struggling bandmates with a look that was a cross between annoyance and concern. 

Mick sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Nikki took off, go find him.”

“What? Why do I have to babysit the bassist?”

“Would you rather babysit the drummer?”

“Yeah I’m going,” the singer had barely glanced at Tommy’s tearfilled eyes before turning on his heel and taking off in the direction Mick had pointed. 

“Mick, you don’t understand, I fucked up, I fucked up so bad,” and goddammit, Tommy was actually crying in a strip club. How had he been so angry not ten minutes ago? Where had that rage gone? He couldn’t find any of it now- only sorrow and regret.

He rubbed at his eyes furiously as Mick guided him to an open stool at the bar. And maybe Tommy was still drunk, and high, and falling apart, but the gruff guitarist seemed to soften, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, “I’m sure you did. But just let the kid calm down a bit, and clear your own head. Unfortunately for the rest of us, I doubt there’s anything that could keep you two apart for too long.”

God, Tommy hopes that’s true. Because something is wrong- there is something disconnected in their relationship and he hates it. He hates the hesitation that has held Nikki in a vice grip every since they woke up that first morning. He hates how Nikki looks cornered the moment he enters a room. He hates the stiffness, the stutters, the silvery thread of fear in Nikki’s every motion.

It feels like those first few days of sleeping in the same bed- Tommy wanting nothing more than to make it better and only ever making it worse.

He hates it. But hating it won’t fix it.

He and Nikki will have to do that together.

~

Once he’s sober and calm enough to walk without puking, Mick helps Tommy back to the apartment. He gets him to the front door before booking it, grumbling about not wanting to deal with anymore drama than he already has. He needn’t have worried though, because when Tommy opened the door, the apartment was dark and quiet. 

Walking down the hall to the bedrooms, he starts when Vince opens his door suddenly, “I thought I heard someone shuffling sadly,” he leaned against the doorway, offering a small smile to the drummer. 

When Tommy only shrugged in response, he sighed, “Well, I stopped Nikki from skipping town at least, but the rest is your problem. I’m getting the Hell outta dodge first thing in the morning in case you guys wanted to throw shit or… something,” he waved a hand dismissively as he turned back into his room, “So, yeah. Good luck, dude. I’m rooting for you.”

He closes the door before Tommy can burst into tears again. Because he wonders if Vince should be rooting for him. Was he even any good for Nikki? Just a lovesick kid who let his temper get the best of him, who kept pushing away the person he said he loved. He wanted Nikki to be happy. But if he was honest with himself, more than that he wanted Nikki to be happy with him. He felt so selfish.

The door to Nikki’s room was closed, hiding its occupant for the first time in weeks. It takes him a moment to work up the courage, but eventually he manages a few hesitant knocks.

There’s no response.

He knocks again, leaning his head against the wood and closing his eyes, “Nikki?” His voice is soft and scared, and all he gets is silence. He keeps talking anyway, “Nikki, I…” swallowing thickly, he steels himself, “I’m sorry, Nikki. I’m so, so, sorry. I was just so frustrated with all the secrecy and-…” He shook his head to himself, “Wait, fuck, I don’t want to make excuses. You didn’t deserve any of that, and I’m so fucking sorry and please,” it takes effort to not make a sound when a few more tears escape, “please don’t give up on us yet.”

Tommy waits, and waits, and waits. But he never gets a reply. Eventually, he forces himself to back away, “Okay. We… we can talk tomorrow, okay?” As he turns to his own room, he makes sure his voice is loud enough to be heard through the door, “I love you, Nik.”

His room is too quiet. His bed is too big. His arms are too empty.

Sleep comes slow that night.

~

When Tommy wakes up, he has a raging hangover, and Nikki is sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Tommy bolts upright immediately, head pounding and room spinning slightly at the motion. Nikki stiffens a bit at the movement, but otherwise stays still, his back facing the drummer, head hung low and hands clutching the mattress. For a terrifying moment, Tommy has no idea who he is speaking to- his boyfriend, or his friend, or his band mate, or none of the above.

“Nikki-”

“You can tell them,” the bassist’s voice is quiet, but not soft. It is flat, dull, tired. He doesn’t turn around as he speaks, dark hair hiding what little of his face Tommy might have been able to see, “Mick, and Vince, and… fuck, whoever you want. Tell anyone, tell everyone, make fliers, fuck me on stage, whatever. Do whatever you want. I don’t fucking care.”

Even facing away, even in the dark, Tommy could tell that Nikki absolutely fucking cared.

He wants to hold him, but he knows he can’t yet. So instead, he takes a deep breath and starts untangling his thoughts, “We should have talked about it, dude. You asked, and I said yeah but like, we should have actually discussed it.”

Nikki breathes sharply through his nose, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just-” Tommy gestures vaguely, but Nikki still won’t look at him. Gathering up all his courage, he tells the truth, “I want to tell people because it’s hard to contain how I feel about you. Like, shit, I’m so fucking head over heels it takes physical effort not to blurt out how much I love you to anyone who looks our way, y’know?” Nikki’s head tilts just the slightest bit towards him, listening quietly. So Tommy continues, spitting out everything he’s been holding in, “I’ve got these feelings that I want to share with everyone, so I guess that… when you kept wanting to keep everything a secret, I just, I dunno, started to assume it was because you didn’t feel the same way, or were embarrassed by me or something.”

“That’s not it,” Nikki’s voice is breathy, and rushed, and honest. He shakes his head vehemently, desperate for Tommy to believe him, “I swear, that’s not it at all.”

Tommy wishes so badly that the other man would look at him. All he sees is the tremors down his hunched back, the hitch in his thin shoulders, hands clenched tight, leg bouncing rapidly. It’s so similar to the fear from the night they got together, and Tommy wants so badly to just stop scaring him.

“I know, Nik,” He says softly, “I get that now. But just… now you know. That’s why I want to tell them,” there is a pause before he continues, “Why don’t you want them to know?“

Nikki swallowed thickly before shaking his head slowly and mumbling, "It doesn’t matter.”

”Yes, it does,” Tommy stresses, hands gripping the blankets around him in a desperation to just make him understand, “You matter, Nikki, and so do your opinions and feelings and fucking everything in between. I don’t want you to just go along with something because it’s what I want.” 

Nikki’s head drops a little lower, “It’s stupid…” 

“No, it’s not. I promise you, it’s not,” Tommy wants so badly to reach over and turn his face so he can look into his eyes. But he doesn’t want to invade Nikki’s space. Not yet. He’s not ready yet. “I want to know what you’re feeling. Please?”

For a long minute, there is silence, Nikki’s back stiff and still as he wages a war in his head. When he finally speaks, his voice cracks just slightly, “I don’t want to jinx this.”

Tommy frowned, shifting just a little bit closer, “What does that mean?”

Nikki gripped the mattress tighter, knuckles white with anxiety, and he makes a noise that Tommy thinks is supposed to be a scoff but sounds like a sob, “I told you it was stupid,” he snarls, but Tommy has a sneaking suspicion it’s not him Nikki is mad at.

“Hey, hey, that’s not what I’m saying,” he keeps his voice gentle and soothing, “it’s not stupid. I just… want to understand better?” And it’s true. It’s so true. Tommy sits and prays because he just wants to understand.

Nikki’s leg is still bouncing up and down rapidly, arms shaking from the effort not to collapse, jaw tense as he tries to force the words out. As he tries to find the words at all.

“This whole… thing… we have… it just feels so… so fucking fragile. I feel like if I breathe too hard it’s all gonna crash around me like a fucking house of cards. And I’m trying not to be so damn, fucking… I don’t know, me, I guess, but I feel like the second we let Vince and Mick in on what we have going on will be the second you realize how fucked up it is that someone like you would settle for a piece of shit like me. And then I’ll have to deal with Vince and Mick making fun of me on top of trying to somehow piece myself back together after you ditch my ass and I don’t know if I could handle that.”

His voice cracks at the end, and he curls into himself a little more, and Tommy is pretty sure he’s going to start crying soon. This whole time he’d assumed that his feelings were obvious- that there was no way Nikki could possibly think he would ever leave him. He thinks back to the strip club the night before, to Nikki watching him get a lap dance, and he realizes Nikki wasn’t jealous at all. He was just sad.

“Nikki,” Tommy puts as much love and tenderness into the name as he can. He speaks it like the treasure it is, “Nikki. I want to be with you. You, exactly as you are. I’m not going to cut and run just because things get rough or we get in a fight or whatever. If shit comes up we’ll deal with it. Together.”

Finally, finally, finally, he allows himself to reach out, covering Nikki’s hand with his own. The bassist takes a shaky breath, slowly unclenching his hand. Tommy entwines their fingers together, stroking his thumb softly over his hand. Then, slowly, Nikki turns to look at him.

Tommy feels himself choke up at the sight of red rimmed eyes, black tracks of eyeliner running down pale cheeks with smudges where they had been half-heartedly wiped away. His lips quivers, and he only manages a moment of eye contact before looking down at their hands. He looks lost.

Maybe it’s too soon, but Tommy can’t help it. He scoots forward and pulls Nikki into his chest, wrapping his arms around him gently and resting his cheek against his hair.

He can feel the hitch in Nikki’s breath, “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers. He tucks himself deeper into Tommy’s hold and then, even softer, “but I don’t know how to be someone you want, either.”

“I already want you,” Tommy holds him tighter, leaves no room for argument, “Fuck, Nik, I’ve wanted you since the day we met. We can disagree, or get in a fight, or be mad at each other, or whatever bullshit and I will still want you.”

A soft sob escapes the bassist as he hesitantly reaches up to wrap his arms around the drummer, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. Even as he tries to stay quiet, Tommy can feel growing dampness on his shirt, and he rocks them both gently as he cups the back of Nikki’s head.

“Relax,” he breathes, “Just relax.”

And then, after one last moment of hesitation, he does. 

It feels like a wire snapping, the way Nikki sucks in a breath and just sags in his arms, melting against him. All the tension that’s held him rigid for the past three weeks releases, and he gasps deeply, and Tommy wonders if he’s been holding his breath since that first morning they woke up together. He holds him as he catches his breath.

When they finally lay down, still tangled in each others’ arms, Tommy feels Nikki sigh against his collar bone. He rubs his hand up and down Nikki’s back, and smiles into his hair.

“I got you, dude. We’re a team- we’re in this together from now on, okay?”

Nodding slowly, Nikki replies softly, “Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Closing his eyes, he huffs out something between a laugh and a sigh, “Fuck. I love you so fucking much.”

“I know,” Tommy pulls him even closer, “I love you too.”

~

It’s not always easy, but it’s better. 

Sometimes Nikki panics, and Tommy has to remind him to loosen up, to move, to breathe. But when he does, oh, he’s reminded why he fell in love with him in the first place.

He hadn’t even realized how much he missed his best friend until he got him back. After all those weeks of Nikki tip-toeing and tearing himself apart, Tommy could cry at the return of the terror twin he loved so much. Even as they continued to keep their relationship to themselves, Nikki was learning to relax when the band was together, leaning into Tommy’s touch, joking, laughing loud and free. He’s filling up his own body again after weeks of hollowing himself out.

Two weeks later, Tommy, Nikki, and Mick are backstage before another show. Mick is strumming lazily at his guitar while Nikki pesters Tommy to hold still so he can fix his damn eyeliner when the door burst open.

“Guys, guys, guys, guys GUYS!” Vince slid into the dressing room, hair flying around his face and practically jumping up and down, “You’re not gonna believe this!”

“I swear to God, if it’s got anything to do with tits, I’m going to strangle you,” Mick deadpanned.

Vince scoffed in offense, “No! This is legit, guys!” He leaned in conspiratorially, “We are officially, SOLD OUT!”

“No fucking way!” Nikki stood abruptly, excitement and disbelief on his face.

“Yes fucking way!” Vince exclaimed, “There is a line down the street that they’re turning away because we packed the fucking house!”

“No fucking way!” laughing gleefully, Tommy and Nikki whoop and holler, shouting expletives in their excitement as Mick shook his head slowly. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit, I think we’re actually a good fucking band,” Mick brought his hands to his hair, trying and failing to suppress a wide grin. The guitarist laughs as Vince, Tommy, and Nikki jump up and down. The four bandmates clap each other on the backs, and hug, and cheer at their success, and the energy gets higher and higher, and Nikki grabs Tommy’s shirt and pulls him into a deep kiss.

Tommy let out a soft noise of surprise, eyes widening for just a moment before grinning into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the other man to pull him impossibly closer. When they finally part they’re both laughing.

They’re so caught up in each other that they almost miss Vince groaning and reluctantly slapping a twenty dollar bill into Mick’s waiting palm, the guitarist smirking victoriously. 

“Oh, fuck you guys!” Nikki laughed, he and Tommy flipping the other two off in sync. 

“Mick, why don’t you hold me like that?” Vince pouted sarcastically.

“I’m not convinced your stupidity isn’t contagious,” Mick raised an eyebrow as Vince gasped dramatically.

Nikki laughed, and Tommy wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, resting his chin on the bassist’s shoulder as they watched their bandmates bicker. He could feel Nikki melt back into him even as he bounced on his toes in excitement and Tommy didn’t think he’d ever felt this happy in his entire life.

Eventually, Nikki pulled away, clapping his hands together, “Alright, alright, enough bitching!” He threw his arms around Vince and Mick, “We got a fucking show to do!”

“Hell yeah!” They grabbed their equipment, each taking one last glance in the mirrors to make any last adjustments to their hair or makeup before heading out to the stage, adrenaline high and triumph running through their veins.

As they exit the dressing room, Nikki grabs Tommy’s hand, grinning widely and eyes shining, “Let’s give ‘em what they came for, yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” leaning in, he gave his boyfriend one last quick kiss. 

“Let’s rock the fucking house.”

[the-cookie-of-doom]

"Do you have any requests?" Mitch asked, gathering up an armful of materials from around his bedroom as Stiles got comfortable on the sheet-covered floor.

"Surprise me," Stiles answered. He laid down on his stomach, head pillowed on his folded arms, half-lidded eyes lazily tracking Mitch as he moved.

"Famous last words," Mitch warned him with a sharp grin. Stiles laughed quietly and closed his eyes; he trusted Mitch.

After Mitch gathered what he needed, he dropped the pile of paints beside Stiles. He was slightly more careful with the mason jars of brushes and water, setting them within reach and out of the way. Mitch kneeled beside Stiles and squeezed a flop of titanium white onto the panel of a cheap picture frame he used as a palette. "When's your birthday?"

"February fourteenth," Stiles said. He shivered when he felt the first delicate brushstroke against his skin a few moments later, listening to Mitch's thoughtful hum.

"That sucks."

"Yeah, holiday birthdays are less than awesome. But the day-after discounts make up for it."

"I'm sure."

"When's your birthday?"

"November twenty-third. What?"

"Nothing, nothing. It just makes sense you're a winter baby, since you're so frosty all the time."

"Whatever." Stiles could hear the eye roll in Mitch's voice and it made him smile into his arm.

"What are you painting?"

"You told me to surprise you."

"Can I get a hint?"

"Nope." Stiles looked over his shoulder as best he could to pout at Mitch, giving his best puppy eyes. Mitch studiously ignored him, intent on the task at hand. Occasionally he had to brush an errant lock of hair out of his face, that escaped from the messy bun it was pulled into. Stiles kind of wanted to kiss him. He didn't, though, instead laying his head back down before the position made his neck ache.

Stiles tried to keep track of the design coming to life on his back, but he had no real way to guess at what Mitch was doing. At first he splashed pigment over Stiles' skin in broad, wide strokes, laying down the ground work of his vision. With each layer the strokes became more precise, building up the detail. The sensation of drying acrylic on his skin was an odd one, but Stiles found he didn't mind much. He liked having Mitch's undivided attention on him

It was almost an hour later when Mitch finished, and Stiles was like dozing. He didn't know when he feel asleep, but he was roused by the sound of paint tubes clacking together as they were shoved out of the way, and Mitch saying his name.

"Hmm?"

"I said, can I take a picture to post later?"

"Oh, yeah sure." Stiles felt languid and loose-limbed as Mitch stood up for a better angle, heard the soft 'click' of his phone snapping several pictures. "Do I get to see what you painted, now?"

"Yeah, here." Mitch handed Stiles the phone and he couldn't help gasping. It was beautiful, the design Mitch came up with, his own take on Aquarius. It reminded him almost of a tarot card. The design was largely in oceanic shades of blue and green and white, with pops of yellow and orange for contrast.

"It's beautiful," Stiles said breathlessly, then cleared his throat. "You're really good."

"Thanks. The paint comes off pretty easy, but it'll stain your clothes, so if you want to take a shower...?"

"Oh. Oh! Yeah, uh thanks." Stiles didn't really want to wash off the paint just yet—it felt like a loss, to get rid of the beautiful art so soon. But he couldn't think of a good reason to go walking around shirtless, so he awkwardly gathered up his discarded clothes and made his way to the bathroom down the hall, while Mitch gathered up his supplies.

Stiles watched the water run a dark blue, then teal, then finally clear, regretfully scrubbing off the paint. When he got out of the shower he smelled like Mitch's citrusy body wash, and it made his heart quicken a little. He steadied himself as he dressed so that he wouldn't make a total fool of himself when he returned.

Mitch was, predictably, sketching at his drafting table. His phone was idly discarded beside him, and Stiles could see the pop ups of Instagram notifications as people liked and commented on his newest post, going largely ignored.

"Uh, hey...."

"Hey." Mitch looked over at him with a smile. His hair was still mostly pulled up, although the knot hung looser than before, and more strands had escaped, like he'd been absentmindedly pulling at it. "Thanks for letting me paint you."

"Anytime," Stiles said, and hoped he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. If Mitch caught on, he didn't say anything about it, but his eyes did scan over Stiles thoughtfully, much more than just an idle glance.

"If you're serious... there's a body painting competition I want to do in a few weeks, but I haven't been able to find someone to model for me. Are you interested?"

"Yes," Stiles agreed too quickly, and Mitch grinned at him.

"Awesome. Fair warning though; it involves a lot less clothes and a lot more people."

"That's fine." That wasn't fine. But Mitch would be there, so he would be fine. "I mean, I'm not that shy, and body paint basically works like clothes, right?"

"Some people seem to think so."

"What... exactly would I need to do?"

"Just stand there and look pretty, mostly," Mitch said, casually adding, "shouldn't be too hard for you."

"... Right." Did Mitch just insult him or compliment him? It was usually hard to tell when Mitch kept everything he felt behind that sarcastic little smirk of his. "Obviously you'll be doing all the hard work. Do you have any ideas what you want to do, yet?" Stiles asked, because he didn't want to leave just yet.

"A few. I'm not committed to any, though, since they have released a theme yet. Want to see?"

"Yes!" Stiles shuffled over, leaning over Mitch's shoulder while he flipped through his sketchbook to the relevant pages. As he did, Stiles could have sworn he almost saw a few portraits of a familiar face, but He never got the chance to examine closely. Was he imagining it that Mitch flipped past them faster than the others?

[georgeharris0n]

Stop And Smell The Sunflowers

Rated: PG-13

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr

Chapters: 1/1

Note: Hope you like it @another-random-girl! I loved WritiNg this SOoo muCh!

Also, Some sligHT McLennon.

George looked utterly exhausted. He was slumped rather uncomfortably in a seat staring off into blank space. His eyes squinting as the train was at a current halt, after finally returning to Marylebone Station. The Beatles had been informed of at least two more scenes that needed to be filmed before the day could subsequently wrap up.

 Ringo himself had a rather tedious shoot, but George had taken most of the heavy hits. They hadn’t been prepared for the work of scenes, and takes. Remembering lines was a pain too, and it was only their first day. They still had more locations and songs to sing, and the mundane train scenes were already proving to be rather boring.

Ringo mostly sympathized with George however. His handsome features looked nearly shot with annoyance as he slumped in that chair. Ringo remembered watching George nursing at his knees from the chase scene. George had a nasty fall that he thankfully was able to recover from quickly,but overall he was fully aware this day had taken the most out of George.

Ringo took a glance down the train corridor. John and Paul were currently flirting futility with the young actresses in the school girls outfits.

Little did they know,  Ringo had seen Paul in one of the carriages, giving John a bright purple hickey on his neck, which he currently wasn’t bothering to hide.

The two of them did love a good flirt though. George wasn’t much the type, at least not since he and Ringo had become an item. One of the girls had approached him earlier, a younger, blonde miss. Ringo could still feel the warmth in his chest when George politely declined her invitation for dinner and remarked that he was spoken for.

Ringo gave the corridor another glance to see if he could spot the director. If they weren’t going to get to those last two scenes just yet… they might have a bit of time to themselves.

In quick, but quiet strides, Ringo edged his way to his boyfriend. He took George’s hand in his and quickly placed a kiss on it before sitting down beside him.

“That was a nice surprise.” George smirked as he sat up in his seat. “That- was the most interesting thing to happen’ all day.”

Ringo’s cheeks reddened, but the glint in his eye said he had something up his sleeve. “Well, let’s get ourselves a little change of scenery then.”

Ringo smiled, then stood once more to take George hand again, this time pulling him out of his chair and quickly to the opposite carriage.

“Ringo? What are you…” The next carriage was filled with props and clothes racks. Ringo pulled off a long beige trench and cabbie hat, and slipped them both on. He took another glance and saw a thick scarf and a brown worn top hat and handed it George’s way.

George quirked his brow. “What’s this?”

Ringo was rummaging through a propbox when he pulled out a spare camera, giving it a once over, then decidingly hanging it around his neck. “It’s a disguise, love. Now follow me before someone sees us, yeah?’

Ringo had turned out the carriage door, and despite George’s bewilderment, he followed quite eagerly behind.

The two stepped off the train platform and avoided as much eye contact with passersby as possible. Sneaking away wasn’t easy as a Beatle, but the station had been decommissioned for the filming, so no civilians would spot them just yet.

Once the two reached the pavement, no one paid much mind to them. The pedestrians were mostly grumbling businessmen, forced to take an alternate route due to the “undignified rock n’ roll film” currently inconveniencing the masses.

Ringo shot George a slight smile and started on to the nearest crosswalk with George trailing beside him. Every so often,  their hands brushed, much like they did during press conferences, or public dinners. They both had a strong urge to just- grab it. To just say, Fuck it, I want to hold your hand. Unfortunately, blending in was difficult already, so the two settled on the light (purposeful) brushes, and the occasional hooking of pinkies. Brian was explicit on the lads being secretive, in fact, once he finds out they went off on their own, into the public of London. He will be furious.

“Where are you taking us Ritchie?” George’s muffled voice inquired through the scarf he wrapped over nearly half his face.

Ringo smiled down at the points of his shoes then turned another corner.

“I think you’ll like it… I just thought we ought’ to get away for a while.”

George’s lip quirked up under the scarf, and he continued to follow Ringo.

The crowds were beginning to thin, till there was nearly no one left on the pavement with them. They were at least two blocks away from the set, though George wasn’t fully sure he had been paying that much attention.

When Ringo came to a halt they appeared to be outside a greenery of some kind. A park.

Ringo pulled the gate latch that coincided the red brick walls, and opened the entrance.

“Ringo, is this even allowed?” George’s apprehension was a bit obvious, but Ringo shook his head.

“It’s a public park, just a bit forgotten, hidden away.”

George tilted his head. “Then how do you know about it?”

Ringo shuffled nervously and his bright blue eyes clouded a bit to grey. “The hotel had an old newspaper, a couple weeks old, the place is going to be demolished and replaced soon… I read it was a bit close to the station… thought maybe it would be a neat place to visit to take a load off.”

George felt his body relax, no longer feeling as anxious. He now felt remorse for the place, and looking into the cobble path, it seemed a lot more appealing than before.

George laid a hand behind the small of Ringo’s back and guided him through the threshold, while closing the gate latch behind them.

He took his scarf and the comical top hat and hung them neatly on a nearby tree limb. “I think a nice, private load off is real gear idea, Ritchie.”

____________________

The garden was unlike anything the two Liverpool lads had ever seen. It was absolutely breathtaking in the most strange and peculiar of ways.

The garden was tight, and no where near spacious. Plants and vegetation grew over every nick and cranny, it was lush, and unruly. It was clearly never kept up. Ivy vines grew up nearly every tree, hanging low and occasionally tickling the tops of their heads. Bushes of perennials were abundant, clearly never pruned, while dime sunflowers grew between the tangled roots below.

In the seclusion and shade of the heavy thick trees, George paid no mind to taking Ringo’s hand. He hadn’t even felt Ringo tense up- it was as if this garden was the safest place either of them could find themselves being. No fear of the press, or news headlines capturing and exposing the couple. The garden had clearly never seen human contact in decades. It was overgrown and messy, and somehow that is what made it even more appealing.

The path branched out in seperate ways, some sections covered by vines and roots. They both steered to the right and found a tiny pond shaded over. Barely touched by the sun.

“Hey, let’s have a seat huh? Legs are a bit tired.” Ringo murmured, letting go of George’s hand a sitting down onto the bank of the pond.

“Only if you promise me a kiss when I meet you down there.” George winked, as he watched Ringo blush from the welcomed affection.

George kneeled down, and seated himself close to Ringo. Both their trousers mostly likely muddled with dirt and damp from the bank.

Ringo was covering a smile with his hand and wandered his eyes to the pond, too flustered to meet George’s.

George knew what Ringo was thinking. Despite not exactly being in public. They were out. In London, outside- no security, no manager, no bandmates. This was as public, and private as they could be. It was both terrifying and… exhilarating.

George reached up two fingers to Ringo’s chin, and gently turned his face to face his own.

“Geo…”

Ringo’s other hand flexed against his own knee, and George took the opportunity to grab a hold of his hand again. Giving it a proper squeeze.

“It’s… it’s just us okay?” George barely whispered as he leaned forward still not quite where he wanted to be. He didn’t want to push Ringo if he was in fact too scared to do this here.

They had done this countless times before, but always away from any outside space, from any prying eyes, and they were always assured of that, as per Paul’s request to Brian that security was tight as a knot for the two couples.

Now they were far away… and Ringo was already pressing his lips to George’s.

It wasn’t a clashing kiss, nor was it hesitant. Ringo tilted his head in order for more space to move between George’s bottom lip, which made George lean down against him fervently to increase the pressure and close remaining space between them. He had taken quick control of the kiss as Ringo was now unceremoniously being pushed back onto his elbows with George still kneeling over top of him with a firm hand gripping the borrowed trench coat.

The kiss was slowing down a bit, in contrast to George’s sudden burst of energy. He took to laying Ringo flat on his back and just kissing him lazily against the grass beside the pond and bushels. Occasionally breaking for air and responding to Ringo’s sleepy nibbles at his red lips.

Ringo smiled against George’s last nip before letting a giggle slip.

“What- hey what are you-”

“Hold still hold still.” Ringo was reaching for the camera on his side, and checking the film.

He brought it up to his eye, and between both of George’s arms framing either side of him, he snapped a photograph.

“Sunflowers suit you well Georgie.”

“Ringo-” Before George could ask what in the fuck he was talking about, the camera had dispensed a rather clear polariod of George, which Ringo flashed to his face.

It appears several dime sunflowers had fallen, and scattered on his head. With George’s bewildered smile apparent in the shot, it was nearly picture perfect. Nothing about it was flawed, and George’s eyes were looking down so longingly… He looked so in love.

To be fair, he had been looking at Ringo, who wouldn’t fall for him?

George chuckled at his smiling boyfriend who was gearing up for another picture. “You couldn’t resist could you?”

Ringo flashed another shot with camera before sitting up, and scottig from beneath George. “Not in the slightest.” He grinned with a cheeky smile.

The two both laughed and once again while taking another look at the vines and flowers.

“Shame this place won’t be here much longer eh’?” Ringo remarked looking out to take a shot of the pond overcast.

“Yeah… I rather like it.” George sorrowed as he spread his palm in the rich soil.

“Ritchie? Think I could ever get myself one of these? A garden? Maybe even a pond like this?”

Ringo felt his cheeks ache. George had him smiling big. “Maybe someday… I don’t see why not.”

The lovers never wanted to leave, but of course the life of a Beatles never gave them much time to stop and smell the sunflowers. They would end up missing those last two scenes altogether, Brain would give them a stern verbal slap on the wrist, while John and Paul would secretly envy them for not thinking of running off as well.

But that time spent in the garden would stay with the both of them. Especially George…    

[padfootagain]

Back To Life

Writing for my 3k event! Thank you for sending this request anon, I hope you like it :)

The following quote was asked for Sirius, and it was asked to be super angsty but with a fluffy ending :

72. "I love her."

"Does she love you?"

" I don't know now. Yesterday, you weren't alive."

"Well, I apologize for not being dead in a ditch."

"I don't think I can accept your apology."

"Is that a joke?"

"Yes, yes, sort of. I'm not... I've never been very good at jokes."

From Salmon Fishing In The Yemen (a pure jewel, you should all watch it).

Hope you all like it :)

Gif not mine

Word Count : 3574

Sirius loved you.

It was a truth he had known for years, way before he had a chance to be part of your life the way he did now.

By some miracle you had both survived this war that had torn your whole world apart.

You had not walked out of it undamaged though. Sirius had owned a large scar across his back. You had lost your boyfriend…

You were shattered when Vincent died. It took around a year for you to get back to your feet. Lily, James and Remus helped a lot, but your rock through this storm had been Sirius.

He had picked you up and had brought back the human in you. And after your mourning had fainted, he had become your whole life.

From time to time, you felt guilty. You felt guilty for being alive when Vincent was gone. You felt guilty to have a chance to be happy when he never did. And you felt guilty because… the truth was… you had never been as happy as you were now with Sirius. You should have been. You should have felt better with Vincent and missed him with every part of you and regretted this time you had with him.

But that wasn't fully the truth.

You missed Vincent. You were still grieving and you would always be. You wished he was still here. But as time flew by and the pain subsided, and you and Sirius grew closer and closer, you started to doubt that Vincent and you would have been able, if you had been given the chance, to stay together forever. As you looked at Sirius standing there, shirtless and wearing his pyjama pants, waving his wand around the kitchen to prepare your breakfast, his hair a mess, you felt so lucky to have him in your life, you found it hard to imagine yourself without him. Actually, you found it impossible.

He was humming a rock tune you had heard the day before on the muggle radio, pouring hot water in his cup of tea. You walked behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso, making him chuckle.

"Morning, handsome," you grinned, dropping a kiss on his shoulder.

"Morning, gorgeous," he turned around to wrap his arms around you.

Sirius dropped a sweet kiss on your nose, before guiding the kettle through the kitchen again. You kept on holding him against you for a little longer, and he tightened his embrace.

"Are you alright, love?"

"Yeah I just… wonder… what makes it that we get to have all this and some people… don’t? Cause I don’t feel like I deserve it more than them."

Sirius heaved a sigh, resting his cheek against the top of your head. He knew perfectly what you were talking about. He knew it was about Vincent and this wound in your heart that would never fully close. He accepted it though, that you would never love him like you had loved Vincent. He had disappeared from your life too tragically and too quickly, Sirius knew he would be irreplaceable. Somehow, Vincent would always own a part of your heart.

And about this, Sirius was not mistaken. Where he was wrong though, was that he thought he would never own more than a tiny piece of your love, when Vincent would always be the one. He was at peace with this fact though. He knew that you were the one for him, and he was lucky to have you by his side now. He did not ask for more love than what you would feel like offering him.

Outside the sun was shining brightly upon London. The city was lazily waking up on this Sunday morning, the summer air already warm. There was a taste of holidays in the air, of long hours spent in bed, walks under the sun, sweet breezes on the Thames and cocktails drank with the dying sun. You and Sirius were both enjoying the beginning of your holidays together as well.

"What should we do today?" He asked softly, ignoring your previous question.

"Cuddles. And cuddles. And then…"

"More than cuddles?" he proposed in a huskier tone.

"I was gonna propose even more cuddles but that sounds quite good too," you giggled.

"Actually… we could go back to bed right now if you want to cuddle and…"

You laughed as he left his sentence suspended in mid-air in a seductive way.

You were about to kiss him when you were interrupted by a knock on your front door. So instead of kissing Sirius, you tore yourself away from his arms and strode through the flat to open the door, your boyfriend making you laugh as he groaned in protest.

"Leave it! It's probably a mistake anyway!" he called through the apartment, but you ignored him.

You walked through the hall with a happy smile on your face…

… but it was replaced by shock when you opened the door.

You went through a thousand thoughts and a million different emotions. In all this whirlwind, your brain had managed to get both crazy and frozen simultaneously. For a moment, you guessed that you were seeing a ghost, but the person before you seemed tangible. And in just a few seconds you had pushed the thought of a ghost away. There was no doubt that it was a real, breathing, living man before you, only… only it was impossible.

Vincent had died years before, in the war, you had seen him falling from that bridge in the Thames, there was no way he could be alive… but then how could he be standing before you?

You felt your head spinning with too much emotions and too much thoughts, shock punching you in the stomach.

The man before you – Vincent although it couldn't be Vincent – gave you a shy smile, and when he spoke you recognized this voice you thought you would never hear again.

"Hello, Y/N."

Your head span faster and faster, until you could feel the ground disappear under your feet, and all went dark.

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

 Sirius was going mad.

He was torn into pieces by so many emotions, and for most of them, he felt guilty.

Anger, jealousy, disappointment…

He was ashamed of admitting it, but he would have preferred Vincent to have died that day during the war… he had seen Vincent falling in the Thames with his own eyes… how could he have survived. And where had he been for so long?

Sirius blew the smoke of his cigarette, pushing it out of his lungs and creating a little cloud of smoke that went drifting towards the sky with the wind. It was late in the afternoon already. After you had fainted, it had taken you a while to get back to your senses. Once you were calmer, Vincent had started to tell you his tale. That he had been badly wounded and had needed months to recover. That he had been looking for you, but by the time he had find you again, you were already with Sirius. He had hesitated for months before finally deciding that he had to see you again.

Sirius was not fully convinced by the whole story, but that wasn't what bothered him the most. What bothered him the most was that Vincent was clearly here to get you back.

All Sirius's insecurities were slammed back right in his face. Deep down, ever since the beginning of your relationship, the thought that he would never have been with you if Vincent had not died had haunted him. He had always feared that you were with him as a second choice. He had come at peace with the idea that you would never love him as much as he loved you.

But now that Vincent was back in the equation, Sirius knew that it meant the end.

Vincent was the one for you, he had no doubt of that. If he asked you to choose, you would be back with your first love.

Sirius was not angry at you for making this choice though. He understood. If you had been the one coming back to him, he would have dropped everything to be back with you. It was only normal that you would give up on him to find back this life Vincent and you had been building together.

But Sirius couldn’t help his rage towards Vincent. And he wasn't proud for wishing that he had remained dead, his blood boiled in his veins at the thought that he was about to destroy Sirius's whole world. He took it personally, as if Vincent had faked his death on purpose and all for the mere purpose to give Sirius a taste of what he would never truly have, only to tear it away from him again. The scenario was ridiculous, and yet Sirius couldn't push it away. The thought came back and back and back, floating in circles in his mind, always here torturing him.

He heaved a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. It was late already, but he hadn't taken a shower. He had merely put on a T-shirt since Vincent had arrived. He realized then that nor he nor you had eaten anything at all. He had never been able to finish these pancakes.

He sat down on the stairs before your home, watching the street as Wizards and Witches passed by without caring for a second about him and his dishevelled looks. You had asked to speak with Vincent alone, it had been almost two hours ago… The thought that the two of you could be snogging right now made his stomach sick.

Tears rose to his eyes, drowning the grey shades as he thought that the previous night was most certainly the last the two of you would spend together. You had fallen asleep together reading a book about Quidditch. He had woken up in the morning to find the two of you in a tangled mess of limbs. He had barely stayed five minutes with you in the bed then, watching you sleeping. How he regretted now not to have stayed to look at you longer…

All these plans that would never happen, all this future you wanted to build together that had crumbled… His whole life was gone…

What would he do without you?

He chased his tears away with the back of his hands, brushing them out of his eyes. And he wondered if he could be brave enough to still be your friend after all that you had shared. He also wondered if he could be brave enough to live without you.

The door behind him suddenly opened on Vincent, and he walked down the tiny stairs Sirius sat on, before turning towards him again.

"She asked to have a minute alone," he informed Sirius.

Your current boyfriend nodded.

"I'm sorry I have to make you go through all that," Vincent apologized, and Sirius wanted to punch him right on the face for his words.

"I understand," Sirius mumbled back.

"I don't want anything bad to happen to you Sirius, you know I don't. I've always considered you a friend. But Y/N… Y/N is the one for me. She's always been. I couldn’t just give up on her. Besides…"

He interrupted himself, but Sirius had guessed the words he had wanted to speak, and he was the one to utter them.

"You think that she might still want to be with you."

A heavy silence settled between the two men, mingling with the thick and hot summer air.

"I know you will try to convince her to stay…" Vincent began to speak again, but Sirius cut him off.

"You're wrong. Y/N is a big girl. She knows what she wants. She doesn't need me to beg her to keep me. She needs me to accept it if she prefers to be back with you."

"Would you really let her go?"

"If she asks me so, yes."

"Really? But why…?"

"I love her," Sirius answered as if it was the most obvious truth in the whole world.

"Does she love you?"

Vincent's voice was hesitant as he asked the question. Sirius shrugged.

" I don't know now. Yesterday, you weren't alive."

"Well, I apologize for not being dead in a ditch."

"I don't think I can accept your apology."

"Is that a joke?"

"Yes, yes, sort of. I'm not... I've never been very good at jokes."

"Sirius Black? Not good at jokes? What happened to you?"

A weak smile formed on Sirius's lips.

"Y/N happened."

Sirius let out a chuckle.

"I'm still hilarious, when I'm not about to have my life turned upside down…" he added.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not, Vincent. You want her to choose you and leave me behind. And I want her to choose me and leave you behind. So, let's cut the pretend. There's no need for that. We were friends, she loved you… and if I'm to be completely honest, I think she still does. So, let's not pretend like you're sorry for coming here and trying to get her back, and let's not pretend either that I'm happy to see you."

Vincent slowly nodded. He was about to speak again when the front door opened. You gave the two men a sad smile.

"Sorry for making you wait," you apologized.

Sirius gave you a reassuring smile. He was surprised as you took his hand, and gave him a grateful smile. You turned to Vincent, and Sirius was certain that it meant the end. You were giving one last moment of affection before running into Vincent's arms. That was it… he was losing you for good…

Instead of letting go of Sirius's hand, you tightened your hold a little. He thought it was meant for a farewell, but it didn't feel like it at all, actually. It felt like reassurance.

Your throat was tightened by emotions as you spoke.

"I'm so glad you're alive, Vince," you smiled, tears shining in your eyes. "I'm so glad you're fine… I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," Vincent breathed, his eyes filled with withheld tears as well. "I missed you so much…"

"I'm sure Sirius will agree when I say that you can come visit us whenever you like."

Both Sirius and Vincent exchanged a glance, and Vincent looked at you with a puzzled expression.

"Y/N… I love you. I've never stopped loving you. I thought that the reason I've come back was clear…"

"It was," you nodded.

You let go of Sirius's hand, and walked closer to Vincent. Sirius crossed his arms before his torso, feeling his throat tightening and vision getting blurry. He took a step back, not wanting to see you fall into his arms again, and yet unwilling to say goodbye just yet, he could steal a few more moments with you if he stayed. He was certain that he would never see you again after you chose Vincent. He had come to this decision. He would never be strong enough to see you loving him… he realized that now.

Sirius's breath caught in his throat. He had this strange feeling in his chest, heavy, painful feeling and he knew that his heart was about to be broken. He just had to wait for you to speak the words that would shatter it forever.

He thought for a second that he could fight for you. That he could give you a thousand arguments to choose him and not Vincent, he could punch Vincent in the face, do something to hold you back, anything… He would have done anything at all…

But was it really what was best for you?

Sirius was a fighter, but he loved you enough to give up. He had always been stubborn but he loved you enough to let go. With all the darkness he hid deep down inside him, and all these wounds that were never truly healed, and all the pain he had to carry… Sirius was more fragile than he looked. You knew it, you were one of the few to be allowed to see him without his armour.

Sirius had never thought that he deserved you. And if you asked him to, for once, he wouldn't fight. If you asked him to, he would let you go. For your own sake, for your happiness… he was ready to give up on you, pack his bag, and disappear.

But the words that passed your lips were not the ones he expected to hear at all…

"But Vincent, it's been so long… I'm not the girl you loved then, not anymore. I built another life for myself. I can't give up on everything for you…"

"Why not? We could build this life we wanted during the war, we could get a fresh start and have the life that we wanted, together."

"I can't do that. I… I'm sorry. But I don't want to do that."

You shook your head.

"I'm so happy you're here. I was devastated when you went missing, and I… It took me so long to feel free to move on. I still felt guilty because I got to have a happy life when you were gone. But I've changed. I've changed and… you will always have a place in my heart. But you don't own it anymore. Actually… I realize now that you never owned it at all. I loved you, but it wasn't the kind of love I have now. I don't want to sound harsh, but you can't… I can't be with you anymore. I don't want to. And it may sound selfish but knowing that you're fine is… liberating. I won't feel guilty to be happy anymore. So thank you, for coming here. And if you want, we can still be friends. But we won't be anything more. We had our time together, but the moment has passed. And you need to move on, just like I did."

"Are you sure?"

But you nodded, and when you exchanged a smile with Sirius, Vincent knew he was defeated. You had never looked at him the way you looked at Sirius…

"I'm sorry. But I love Sirius. And I'm very happy with him. Happier than I've ever been. And I wouldn't give up on him, not for anything. I'm sorry."

"Do you… do you love him more than you loved me?" Vincent asked in a trembling voice.

You nodded, a smile forming on your lips and a tear rolling down your cheek.

"I do. He's the one for me. I know he is. I'm sorry, Vince."

"I understand."

"If you want, you can come for dinner next Sunday…"

"I'm not sure it's a good idea, but thank you. As long as you're happy… And if I can't make you change your mind…"

You shook your head, and he could read in your eyes that indeed, you would never change your mind. He had lost you for good this time.

"I wish you both the best then. Farewell."

"Farewell, Vince."

He turned around and walked into the street, and you turned to walk back in your home, Sirius following close.

He leaned against the door as he closed it behind him, and Sirius took your hand, pulling you into his arms.

He heaved a sigh.

"Thank you," he breathed. "But are you sure about that…"

You shushed him by pressing your lips against his, and you held him tightly against you.

"I'm sure," you breathed as you finally broke away. "I'll always be sure about us."

Sirius gave you a bright smile, looking down at your eyes but still holding you in his arms.

"Well then… I propose pancakes and cuddles. A lot of cuddles. And I want to be little spoon… after almost losing you today, I deserve being little spoon," he laughed, but you didn't miss the tears in his eyes.

You shook your head, cupping his cheek.

"You will never lose me. You're the one who owns my heart, and you always will be."

And as you stared up at him, both of you crying and both of you smiling, you found yourself feeling more peaceful than ever. All traces of guilt had been lifted from your heart. This idea that you didn't deserve this happiness because Vincent had never had the chance to find anything like it had disappeared. His ghost had stopped haunting you. And it felt wonderful.

"I love you, Sirius."

He tightened his hold on you and pressed his face into your hair. You had chosen him. You had had a chance to be with Vincent, but you had chosen him. And these three words that you had spoken already before wore now a brand-new meaning. You really did love him. And not because you couldn't have Vincent. You loved him, because you had chosen to. And that was the best feeling he had ever experienced…

You loved him for the man he was. He guessed that it meant that he wasn't such a destroyed soul then, and that his wounds would be given a chance to keep on healing. You were the best remedy for his tortured soul, after all.

He silently promised himself to never let you go. He would keep on spending his life trying to make you just as happy as you made him.

"I love you, Y/N."

**************************************

Tag list : @geeksareunique @giggleberts @justanothermaraudersblog @sad-orange-thoughts @aylinnmaslow @benbarnes-world @ladyblablabla @drinix @joelynnp @mxrihollxnd @mikeselevenn @knowledgeisthebomb @madamrogers @newtstarmander @presstocontinue @ilmiopiccolounivers0 @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynight-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things

[splendidlyimperfect]

When Gray’s girlfriend dumps him right before Christmas, he’s stuck with a non-refundable, three-week holiday to Paris. Without another choice, he agrees to go with a stranger - a man who is remarkably charismatic, and a lot cuter than Gray is willing to admit. It’s supposed to be platonic (Gray’s straight, right?), but Paris isn’t called the City of Love for nothing.

@ftmlmages​

Chapters (6/7): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster, Cana Alberona Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Holidays, Vacation, Christmas, Paris (City), Romantic Fluff, Mutual Pining, Holding Hands, First Kiss, Trans Character, Falling In Love, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Gray thinks he’s straight but he’s not, Natsu falls in love hard, Gray speaks French because reasons

-----

They spend all of Christmas in bed, half-clothed and sleepy, trading soft touches and kisses and quiet words meant only for each other. When Gray wakes slowly the next day, wrapped around Natsu with their legs tangled together and Natsu’s hand in his, there’s a warmth in Gray’s chest that he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.  

“Hey,” Natsu murmurs sleepily as Gray pulls him close, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck.

“Mornin’,” Gray says, lips tracing the words against Natsu’s skin. “As-tu bien dormi?”

“Mmm,” Natsu says, then rolls onto his back, stretching and humming happily when Gray’s hand slips under his shirt and splays across his stomach. “I’m really glad this wasn’t just a dream.”

Gray laughs, pushing himself up on his elbow and drawing lazy patterns up Natsu’s ribs with his fingertips. “Me too,” he admits. He’s mesmerized by the soft smattering of freckles across Natsu’s nose, and the way his skin turns gold in the sunlight spilling across the bed.

“Mmmm.” Natsu reaches up and pulls Gray down for a soft, sweet kiss, then brushes their noses together and pulls back. “As much as I’d love to spend the rest of the week in bed, I think I need coffee.”

Gray hums in agreement, pressing another kiss to Natsu’s forehead before sitting up and stretching. He quickly realizes he’s not wearing a shirt but before he can feel awkward about it, Natsu’s lips brush against the top of his shoulder.

Continue reading on AO3

“Thought you wanted to get up,” Gray murmurs, tipping his head to the side as a warm arm wraps around his waist and pulls him close. Natsu kisses slowly across Gray’s shoulder, each press of his lips gentle and deliberate, like he’s trying to memorize the way Gray feels against him.

“I do,” Natsu agrees, rubbing his thumb in circles over Gray’s hip, “mais t’es irrésistible. Est-ce que je veux des becs, ou du café?”

“Both,” Gray says, torn between curling back up under the duvet, and forcing himself to go shower. Despite Natsu’s gentle touches, showering eventually wins out, and he stands self-consciously, glad that he’s still wearing his sweatpants. “I’m gonna, uh…”

Natsu looks up at Gray, head tipped to the side, hair messy and cheeks pink, too-big shirt hanging off one shoulder. It’s almost too much for Gray, and he quickly looks away, grabbing his phone from the side table and darting away to the bathroom.

~

They end up back at the same café, with the same waitress, and Natsu doesn’t miss the sly grin she gives him when she sees that they’re holding hands. Gray stares at his breakfast with a shy smile on his face, peeking up at Natsu occasionally as a red flush creeps across his cheeks.

“You’re adorable,” Natsu says around a bite of his croissant, catching Gray’s ankle with his foot under the table. Gray’s face turns an even darker shade of red, but he doesn’t stop smiling.

After breakfast, Natsu leads Gray down the street away from the restaurant.

“Where are we going?” Gray asks, frowning.

“Surprise,” is all Natsu will say.

They end up taking the Métro, which is surprisingly crowded for the day after Christmas. It’s standing room only, and a fond sense of relief flows through Natsu when Gray pulls him close and shields him from the crowd.

“Okay?” Gray murmurs in his ear, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of Natsu’s neck. Natsu nods, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to Gray’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” he mumbles into Gray’s jacket. He feels safe here, in Gray’s arms – like they’re the only two people and he’s not suffocating in the crowd.

Leaving the Métro station is a relief, and Natsu eagerly pulls Gray down the street until they’re standing outside a building draped with Christmas lights and a sign that says Café des Chats.

“A cat café?” Gray asks, eyes widening as Natsu pushes the door open. It’s warm and cozy inside, with dark blue walls and an eclectic mix of furniture. A slim, Siamese cat with wide blue eyes hops lazily down from one of the tables and saunters over to them, rubbing itself against Gray’s legs.

“You said you liked cats,” Natsu said as Gray crouched down, reaching out his hand for the cat to sniff. “I thought you might—”

“This is amazing,” Gray breathes as the cat rubs its face against his fingers.

Natsu orders them another coffee as he watches Gray settle onto one of the couches, smiling when two other cats immediately hop up and rub themselves against him. He looks entranced, gazing adoringly at the cat that climbs into his lap as he runs a gentle finger across its nose.

“I used to have a cat,” he says quietly once Natsu returns with their coffee and sits down next to him. “She was my mom’s. Her name was Snowflake.”

Natsu hesitates before gently asking, “What happened?”

Gray doesn’t answer right away. The cat in his lap kneads his sweater for a bit, then turns in several circles and curls up with its tail over its nose. Gray runs his fingers through her fur.

“I’m adopted,” he says eventually. “My parents died when I was eight. My mom – the one from Lebanon – was best friends with my dad, so when he died, she and her wife adopted me.” Natsu makes a sad sound and rubs his thumb over the back of Gray’s hand. “It was a fire; Snowflake was with them.”

“I’m so sorry,” Natsu murmurs, slipping their fingers together. Gray gives him a sad half-smile.

“Thanks. I miss them a lot.” He scratches the cat behind its ears, and Natsu can hear it purring. “I love my moms, though; they’re amazing. And they had three other kids already, so I’ve got brothers and sisters now, which is cool. It just hurts some days more than others.”

“I know,” Natsu says. Gray looks at him and Natsu adds, “My parents aren’t around either.” He sighs, looking down at their joined hands. “They left when I was little, they had… issues, and I’ve lived with my gramma for a long time. Both Wendy and I. Which is better than living with my parents, because they aren’t safe people to be around, but I still miss them?”

Gray nods, tipping his head against Natsu’s. “It sucks,” he says.

They’re quiet for a while, listening to the rumble of the cat in Gray’s lap, and eventually Gray says, “I’ve actually been thinking about getting a kitten.”

“I have a cat,” Natsu says. Gray looks up at him and Natsu immediately turns pink. “Not—I didn’t mean like, living… just, you could visit him? He’d like you.”  

Gray laughs, squeezing Natsu’s hand and nodding. “Sounds good,” he says. “It’s a date.”

~

When they get back to the hotel that evening, Gray takes his time kicking off his boots and shrugging off his coat. When he finally turns to Natsu, his expression is uncertain.

“What’s wrong?” Natsu asks gently. He takes Gray’s hands and sits down on the bed, pulling Gray close as he runs his thumbs over Gray’s knuckles.

“I…” Gray chews his lip and lets out a quiet sigh before admitting, “I’ve never dated a guy before.” He looks up at Natsu. “That’s what this… we’re…”

“Yeah,” Natsu says, squeezing Gray’s hands. “I want you to be my boyfriend. Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” Gray says, looking back down at their hands. “Yeah, I… I just…”

Natsu shifts backward on the bed, pulling Gray after him until they’re lying on their sides facing each other, knees touching, hands clasped between them. “I really, really like you,” Natsu says, bringing his other hand up to touch Gray’s cheek. “And we can take this as slow as you want, okay?”

Gray nods, and Natsu slowly runs his thumb across the anxious tension in Gray’s jaw. “I thought…” Gray hesitates. “I never really thought about—I’d never liked a guy, before you?”

Natsu smiles, shifting closer and nudging his knee between Gray’s legs. “Guess I’m special, then,” he teases. He expects Gray to laugh, or to blush or stammer. What he doesn’t expect is for Gray to meet his eyes and whisper, “You are.”

“Oh.” It’s Natsu’s turn to blush now, and he leans in to touch his forehead to Gray’s. “You… you too.”

Gray looks like he might say something else, but instead he kisses Natsu, drawing him in with a cautious enthusiasm like he can’t quite believe this is real. Natsu moves against him eagerly, sliding his hand down Gray’s back and tracing the shape of his ribs, opening up to Gray in a way he never has with anyone before.

When Gray eventually pulls back, a dizzy happiness bubbles in Natsu’s chest, and he almost feels like crying from the force of it.

“Can we… just, maybe, keep doing…” Gray gestures between them and Natsu nods, rubbing his thumb over Gray’s hipbone.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, we can keep doing this.” He kisses Gray again, then murmurs against his lips, “We can do whatever you want.”

~ 

The trip comes to an end much too soon, but after three weeks of living out of a suitcase, Gray is eager to get home and sleep in his own bed. Or maybe Natsu’s bed. They haven’t talked about it yet – about what their relationship will look like once they’re not in each other’s immediate orbit every day.

When the hotel concierge checks them out of the hotel, she nods at their joined hands and smiles. “Félicitations,” she says, and Gray manages to stammer out a quick, “Merci, bonne journée,” before they head out to the taxi.

The airport is crowded, but Natsu remembers to take an Ativan this time. Gray holds his hand tightly, and by the time they’re on the plane, he’s adorably sleepy.

“Can I sleep on you again?” he asks, tipping his head against Gray’s shoulder and giving him a goofy smile. When Gray wraps his arm around Natsu and kisses the top of his head, Natsu waves at one of the flight attendants and whispers, “C’est mon chum.”

He falls asleep before they’re over the ocean, curled up and snoring with an arm across Gray’s stomach. “He’s very sweet,” the stewardess says when she returns with the snack cart. “You’re lucky.”

“Yeah,” Gray says, staring down at the tattoos across the back of Natsu’s hands. “I am.”

~

“Gray!”

The busy crowd in the Arrivals area of the Montréal airport parts and Cana appears, darting between people until she can pull Gray into a hug. He sighs happily, wrapping an arm around her.

“Hey, you,” he says, kissing her cheek.

“Merry belated Christmas,” Cana says, pulling back and squeezing Gray’s arm. “How was the…” She trails off, realizing that Natsu is standing just behind Gray – and that they’re holding hands. “Oh?” she says, raising an eyebrow at Gray.

“You must be Cana,” Natsu says, letting go of Gray’s hand and reaching out to shake Cana’s instead. “I’m Natsu.”

“I saw lots of pictures of you,” Cana says, grinning at him. “So you’re the lucky one who got stuck with my brother for three weeks, huh?”

“I am.” Natsu shifts his backpack on his shoulder and looks back at Gray with a shy smile. “It was really nice.”

Before Cana can ask any embarrassing questions – especially in the middle of the airport – Gray grabs Natsu’s hand again and quickly says, “Yes, we’re dating, no, you can’t ask any questions about it.”

“I called it!” Lucy says, appearing behind Cana and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Cana wasn’t convinced because you’ve never—”

“I said no questions,” Gray grumbles as Natsu laughs.

“You’re adorable,” Cana reassures him, then nods toward the airport doors. “Shall we?”

Gray turns to Natsu, realizing that he’d never asked what Natsu’s plans were now that they were back home. “Do you—what’re you…”

“I was gonna call a cab to get home,” Natsu says, but he looks reluctant. Gray shakes his head.

“Don’t be silly,” he says, tugging on Natsu’s hand. “We can drive you.” A disappointed sensation spreads through him at the thought of being apart from Natsu after all their time together – he’s not quite ready to say goodbye, even if it would only be temporary. “Actually,” he says, staring down at their hands, “Would you—do you wanna come over for a bit?”

Natsu brightens, smile spreading across his face and lighting up his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to Gray’s cheek. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

[rikotin]

Fictober 2019 – Prompt #18 “Secrets? I love secrets.” + Prompt #28 “Enough! I heard enough.”

Title: A Penny For Your Thoughts Fandom & characters: DRUCK – Matteo Florenzi & Sara Adamczyk Pairings: Matteo Florenzi / David Schreibner (background), Sara Adamczyk / Leonie Richter (background) Words: 6297 Notes: at the end of the prompt. Summary:  Matteo is having major regrets for agreeing to a meet-up with Sara: it's barely 10 o'clock in the morning and he still has no idea what the real meaning behind this heartfelt invitation is/what the real purpose behind this heartfelt invitation is. When Sara finally arrives and Matteo gets to hear the reason why she wants/wanted to talk to him specifically, past guilt, present doubts and future hopes collide in the small café on Waldstraße 59. Read on AO3

_______________________________

”Good morning! Welcome to GARCIA!”

Matteo felt like the loud and painfully friendly greeting would knock him over, as he turned to look at the barista with a little startled expression on his face. The young woman had huge glasses that had a shade of red that was sure to blind you if you looked at them for too long, and a smile way too bright and wide for it to be barely 10 in the morning. Matteo had practically sleepwalked his way from home to this very coffee shop, so the sharp contrast between his drowsiness and the barista’s cheerfulness was… a lot.

Matteo made a sound that was meant to resemble ’hi’ but it came out like more of grunt. He didn’t have anything against enthusiastic customer service – on the contrary, he almost envied the baffling ability to smile and speak kindly to everyone no matter how the said customer responded – but it was the best he could do while still being at least sixty percent asleep.

After vacantly staring at array of sandwiches and pastries for longer than was probably socially acceptable, the  strong smell of coffee next to the coffee maker getting a bit too overwhelming, he decided to simply get some tea in order to try and shake off the cold that had chilled him to the bone on the way to the café. It was not a long walk but the wind had been particularly sharp and if it wasn’t for his still lingering guilt from some time back, he would have ditched the whole ”breakfast date for old friends” as Sara had called it. He must’ve been out of his mind when he agreed to her suggestion.

“Sir?”

Matteo blinked, jerking his head up, and realized he had missed the whole introduction to their undoubtedly large and impressive choice of teas. He coughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair and asked for whatever it was in the jar he pointed at. He could’ve sworn the barista gave him an odd look but he couldn’t really bother to think about it too much.

Matteo pressed his palms against his eyes and let out a deep sigh. He was so dumb for agreeing to this. His sleep schedule was not in any way suitable for anything that took place before noon, especially if he had to go somewhere he’d never gone before. Not to mention, Sara wasn’t even there yet even though she had initiated all of this. Matteo had zero clue why she’d wanted to meet him in the first place. After everything that had gone down and after Matteo had finally apologized for his behaviour and for hurting her feelings, they had slowly started mending things between them and, in time , ended up with a rather nice friendship. He was happy they’d managed to get to that point. What they didn’t really do, however, was meet up when it was just the two of them. Most of the time they’d hang out with the whole squad or in a smaller group, usually with Leonie and David. That’s why her sudden suggestion of a café hangout seemed rather odd.

“Here’s your Golden Chamomile tea, sir. Please let it sit for about 5 minutes before drinking. Enjoy!” the barista exclaimed gleefully and wow, did that voice still make his ears ring. 

She had placed a clear teapot, which had an infuser of a sort in the middle of it, and a simple white cup on a tray that stood on the counter between them. Matteo nodded quickly, forced out a ‘thanks’ with a small smile he wasn’t sure looked like one and grabbed the teapot and cup hurriedly, leaving the tray behind.

A steady chatter filled the room, a few customers already sitting in the café. A clink of a spoon here and there, someone typing on their laptop in rather hurried manner, and the machines behind the counter softly buzzing and hissing as the people worked on them. Some sort of jazz music played in the background and really, it was very cosy, Matteo noted, carefully setting down his two-part beverage on a free table tucked away in the corner of the fairly small space, and took a look around. The mismatched wooden furniture and soft brown tones made the place warm and inviting, but at the same time, with an unfinished looking feature wall and geometric golden lamps, it had an almost industrial vibe that David’s hiptery university friends seemed to love. They were nice, really, and Matteo got along with them well enough, but things like these were just way over his head.

As Matteo dropped himself on a chair placed near the wall, the bell of the café’s door chimed and Sara walked in with her hair hanging down her shoulders in messy waves, a little breathless and flushed like she’d run there. She quickly looked around and strode across the floor when she spotted Matteo waving his hand lazily.

“Hey! Sorry I’m late, I sort of overslept,” she sighed out right away when she reached him. Matteo couldn’t help but let a snort escape his lips.

“Overslept, huh?” Matteo’s eyebrows flew up as he repeated the sentence like he couldn’t quite believe it. “This was your idea, remember?”

A little lopsided grin spread across Matteo’s lips and he rubbed his eyes with one of his hands. Sara scrunched her nose, but granted him a smile as she threw her coat over the back of the chair across Matteo. He still had his baggy coat safely tucked around him, providing him with the much needed warmth that hadn’t quite reached his insides after stepping back inside.

“It’s not early, it’s basically a brunch time already,” she shot back, shifting her weight a little on her feet and crossing her arms, “I just didn’t have the heart to drag you out of your bed right after sunrise.”

Matteo huffed, opening his mouth in surprise and feebly swinging his hand out to point an accusing finger at Sara: “It was you who was late,” he laughed, and let his hand drop back down, knocking it painfully on the corner of the table in the process. He hissed at the jolt of pain and shook his hand a bit, pursing his lips at Sara who let out a little mocking kind of giggle. Matteo gave her the best glare he could muster up, which had little to no effect on Sara’s amused smirk.

“Karma,” she stated, glancing around the café again and scooping her hair into a messy bun high on top of her head. A couple of her blond locks fell right back down around her face, making her swipe them quickly away, only for even more of them to fall down.

“I’ll be right back,” she continued.

She turned on her feet and blew some of the hair of her face, dropping her hands in a defeated manner. Matteo hummed in acknowledgement and watched after her as she made her way to the counter. Matteo sniffled his nose and zoned out a bit while keeping his eyes fixed on the counter. The same loud and chipper woman, who Matteo had been forced to face, seemed to have an equally stunning effect on Sara – if her slow and exaggeratedly wide-eyed glace back over to Matteo was anything to go by.

Matteo slouched further in his chair and turned his head to look out of the window on the other side of the room, absent-mindedly watching as people passed the café. It was weird, he thought. He could’ve sworn Sara seemed nervous. They hadn’t dated for too long, but he could recall her nervous habits from their early days: shifting on her feet, fiddling with her hair, looking around for nothing apparent. He scrunched his brows, deep in thought, and brought his thumb to his lips, nibbling a little fleck of the dry skin on the side of it. He had a weird gut feeling that something was up, and he wasn’t certain what to make of it.

Right then, Sara appeared back to the table and placed a plate with a small sandwich and some sort of a tart next to Matteo’s – now most likely bitter – tea. As an instinct, alarms went off inside his head: something was up, without a doubt, and now he was part of it, whether he liked it or not.

Sara must have noticed his slightly growing panic, as she scoffed at whatever expression it was that he had on his face, and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned and this is not an ambush.” she said dryly and pushed the plate closer to him and circled back to the other side of the table, placing down her own plate with a croissant and a piece of what appeared to be carrot cake.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, though. I hope it’s alright,” she continued, and quickly added as soon as Matteo opened his mouth to respond, “And I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to, so.”

Matteo snapped his mouth closed, still eyeing her with slight suspicion, but decided on straightening his posture somewhat and leaning back towards the table. He poked the contents of his plate,a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

”Yeah, thanks. It looks good.”

Sara had ordered a hazelnut latte, like she had every single time for as long as Matteo had known her. He never let her hear the end of it, until she tried a mint chocolate cappuccino, took one sip of it and forced Matteo to finish the teethrottingly sweet liquid. He felt nauseous for days and never said another word about it.

The coffee was brought to the table with another boisterous ‘enjoy’ along with it and even if Sara managed to thank her with a polite smile, they both started grinning like idiots as soon as she left the table, which resulted in Matteo barely swallowing down a laugh and Sara swatting his knee under the table while shushing and giggling simultaneously.

Matteo felt himself relax after that, and it finally seemed like his body temperature had settled back to normal instead of the continuous shudders that had been running through him. He swiftly peeled off his coat, leaving it to hang behind him, and reached out to finally pour himself a mug of tea. The taste was just as bitter as he’d anticipated, but it was really the foul taste of chamomile that made him grimace. Sara lifted her brows at him and sipped on her own coffee.

”What is it?” she asked as she placed the glass back down and tore off a corner of her croissant, stuffing it in her mouth.

”Chamomile,” he muttered through gritted teeth and took another sip, ”I think I let it sit for too long.”

”And you hate chamomile tea,” Sara said slowly, looking at him with a questioning expression and waiting for him to elaborate his obviously dumb choice. Matteo shrugged and managed to swallow the warm liquid. It warmed up his chest so comfortably he was almost able to ignore the hideous taste it left behind – almost.

”Technically, I didn’t choose chamomile,” he mumbled, catching Sara’s confused stare, ”I, uh… I zoned out a bit? Early morning and all that, you know? And, um, I just blindly picked a jar and hoped for the best. Didn’t work, obviously.” He let out an awkward huff of a laugh, picking up his own sandwich. It tasted quite ordinary, like a basic sandwich with some ham and cheese and greens, but there was some sort of a savory sauce – a seasoned cream cheese, maybe – that gave it a nice little twist. It was good, he decided, happily taking another bite.

A comfortable silence fell over them, as both of them ate in peace, peering over the room, out of the window. It wasn’t raining, but the day still seemed to have a gloomy outlook. On the way to the café, the leaves on the trees in the nearby parks had started to turn into various shades of yellows, reds, and browns, a majority of them already resting on the grass on the pavement. It was beautiful, really, but also made him sort of melancholic – even more so than usual.

“So,” Sara suddenly broke the silence, wiping the corners of her mouth on a napkin, “how are things?”

Matteo turned to look at Sara again. She was biting her lip and poking the slice of cake on her plate with a fork, but not really paying attention to it.

“We literally saw each other, like, two weeks ago,” he replied, digging his own fork into the pie she had placed in front of him. It turned out to be an apple tart with a meringue topping

”Fuck, this is good. Can I live off of this?”

Sara gave him a wide smile, finally taking a piece of her own cake as well. 

“Glad you like it. So, what, can’t I ask how my dear friend is doing?”

Matteo gave her the most unamused look, quirked a brow and chewed his tart slowly. Sara winced a little, and placed her fork back down while coughing a little to clear her throat.

”Too much?” she asked, helplessly, as Matteo simply nodded.

”Way.”

The silence had shifted into something more tense and Sara had crossed her arms as if she was trying to make a barrier between them. Matteo put his own fork down as well, mirroring her, and leaned back in his chair.

“So? What’s up?” he finally asked, as Sara was trying look at to anything but him. She fidgeted a little, dropping her hands down to rub her knees.

“I–, uh… I, um, wow this is super awkward,” she managed to stutter, pressing the heels of her hands to her forehead as she let out a long sigh and nodded, almost as to psych herself up to something, before letting her hands fall back on her lap.

“Listen, Matteo, I need to ask you not to say anything to anyone yet,” she began, confusing him even more.

“Secrets? I love secrets,” he shrugged, wincing immediately after realizing the implication  of his statement, “Sorry.”

Sara gave him a warm laugh, which caught his uneasiness right off the bat, and shook her head a little. The bun on her head bounced around with it.

“None taken. We’ve already been over that, Matteo. It’s in the past.”

The thing was, it was in the past. They really had mended things between them and were in good terms nowadays. Matteo had found his spine and apologized, but he couldn’t help the guilt that still creeped in the back of his mind. He knew the way he had behaved had been inconsiderate, to say the least. Or, well, he had been, frankly speaking, a complete asshole. He had had his reasons back then but it didn’t excuse his multiple terrible decisions that had ended up hurting too many people. Sometimes, the shame he felt for his actions chased away all the air that he was desperately trying to get into his lungs, but kept him in its tight grasp, leaving him to wonder if he’d ever be able to escape it. Together with his new therapist, though, they had found some ways to help him get through situations like that.

It was quite recent, the whole therapy thing, but with the help of his friends, his mother, and of course David, they had managed to find him a promising sounding therapist who had turned out to be absolutely great. He was quite young and hadn’t been out of university for too long and Matteo got along with him very well. That had made the whole scary ordeal of committing to regular visits and a therapy plan feel way less scary and significantly more like an opportunity – as well as the first couple of appointment reminders that were sent a meme format. That couldn’t last, obviously, but it really helped to ease off his nerves for the first few times he went on the appointments, and since then, the progress had been slow, but good. He did want to get better. He was sick and tired of the persistent numbness as well as the anxiety that usually flared up into a full blown panic attack at the worst possible moment. But finally, he had taken the first steps to start and get better, no matter how challenging and long the road ahead of him seemed.

Matteo cleared his throat awkwardly and leaned forward once again, catching his fork and shoving a piece of the – god, so good – tart into his mouth.

“Anyway, tell me. You wanted to meet me for something,” he asked, munching on his tart. Sara made a slightly disapproving face, pursing her lips, and leaned back in her chair.

“I wanted to meet you for breakfast,” she mumbled, but her voice was giving away there was a ‘but’ there somewhere. Matteo hummed, still chewing away at his tart, and mether eyes with a pointed look, gesturing at her to continue. 

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds until Sara gave in with a frustrated sigh.

“Ugh, fine,” she muttered, dropping her gaze to her hands and turning them around like there was something interesting there to see. Matteo rolled his eyes, poked at his tart, which was vanishing way too quickly, and set his fork down again to save some of the pastry for a little longer. He grabbed his tea mug and took another grimace-inducing sip. Not only was it bitter and bad, now it was almost cold as well.

“I need you to explain to me what it was that made you realize you were gay.”

Sara’s hurried request was enough to make Matteo choke on his drink, setting off a coughing fit. He quickly put the mug down – deciding to abandon the rest of it right then and there – and covered his mouth with his hands, the hacking cough making his eyes water. Sara startled and jerked her hands towards him, but stopped them in midair, not exactly certain how she could help the situation.

“Shit! Sorry, I– do you need water? Should I– uh, should I get you some water? Ask for them to bring some?” she stuttered, already getting up from her chair, but Matteo just shook his head and hurriedly beckoned her to sit back down with his free hand.

“No, no, don’t– fuck,” he managed out before coughing some more, the coughs shaking him in his chair, ”I can’t handle it anymore, not this morning.”

Sara snorted, sat back down, and leaned her elbows on the table, propping her chin in her upturned palms. She had an amused smile on her face and Matteo finally stopped feeling like he was going to die a brutal death by choking on some chamomile tea.

“She’s so friendly, but like, painfully so,” she commented, glancing towards the counter where the barista in red glasses was currently flashing her blinding smile to a visibly surly business man. “It’s a talent, though, I think. And she’s very cute.”

“I guess,” Matteo agreed, turning to look towards the counter as well, when his mind backtracked to what Sara had just said and an understanding suddenly dawned on him.

“Wait, are you saying–,” he started, turning his gaze back to Sara, who cut him off by letting out a lengthy groan. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, facing the ceiling, and brought her hands to cover most of her face as she sighed.

“Yes, no? I don’t know, Matteo,” she said, her voice whiny, ”I don’t think I’m a lesbian? I mean, I really, really, liked you back when we had our thing. But I– ugh, I just– fuck, I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

Sara opened her eyes and quickly jerked her head up, staring at Matteo with wide eyes. There was an open and vulnerable expression on her face. She looked so insecure and scared, it almost made Matteo uneasy – he didn’t want his friends to feel like this around him. He didn’t want people to go through the same doubts and fears he had had when he was still questioning his sexuality and deeply buried in the closet.  That had simply been one of the worst periods in his life.

“Okay?” she asked, clearly uncertain, her eyes squinting in confusion, “I– Okay?”

“Okay,” Matteo shrugged and his lips turned into a crooked, almost mischievous smirk, “So? Who is it that you’ve got the hots for?”

“Who is that i’ve got the–?” 

Sara’s cheeks flushed quite impressive shade of red and Matteo couldn’t help but laugh wholeheartedly. He let his head fall backwards for a second and then set his eyes back on Sara who looked like all stages from annoyed to embarrassed to, surprisingly, relief.

“You don’t have to tell me. No, really,” Matteo stated, his smirk shifting into something more gentle, as he interrupted Sara’s emerging protest “It’s fine.”

“No, I mean I know, but I want to. I feel like I’m going to burst if I refuse to speak about it with someone else any longer,” she huffed, reaching out for the fork and the neglected carrot cake on her plate, slowly cutting the remainder of it into bite-sized pieces. Matteo hummed knowingly, nodding his head. He knew exactly how it felt to have these new and puzzling feelings towards someone and not be able to discuss them with anyone. He remembered feeling lost, confused, and like he was an outsider with his newly found crush on a guy he barely knew, but who had wormed his way into Matteo’s heart without him even realizing it at first.

Matteo followed Sara’s example to finish his apple tart, glancing up, but giving her time to ponder her next line. He could see the cogs turning in her head, as she fidgeted and tugged at the cuff of her white sweater. Matteo forked some more of the tart into his mouth and already missed the taste, making a mental note to drag David to the café next Thursday after he’d gone to the appointment again. Whatever it was that they were to talk about that day would certainly get just the tiniest bit easier if Matteo knew he was getting another one of these tasty tarts afterwards.

“It’s– it’s Leonie,” Sara finally stuttered out after a while, her voice low like someone around them might be listening and would make fun of her as soon as the name left her mouth. Matteo wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but even if it was a little surprising, it didn’t exactly baffle him.

“Leonie, huh. That makes sense,” he commented thoughtfully, turning his gaze back towards the window, noting that even more people were passing by. It was obviously starting to get closer to noon, and Matteo was suddenly aware of the murmur around the café being significantly louder than when he had arrived there. He wondered when that had happened.

Leonie was a nice person. Matteo didn’t really know her as well as he knew Sara, despite them hanging out in a group for many times. It had been a rocky road for Matteo and Leonie to finally get along, as back when he had abruptly called it quits with Sara, Leonie had quite profoundly hated Matteo for it. But it had worked out in the end, and she did seem genuine and honest, as well as sharp and headstrong. More than once, Matteo and Sara had been sitting on the side, following a heated discussion between David and Leonie, and sometimes Jonas, about politics, movies, painters, worldviews and whatnot, exchanging eyerolls and huffs. They had a similar kind of stubbornness and strong opinions, David and Leonie, but whereas David would – although reluctantly – admit his defeat, Leonie defended her opinions fiercely and ended up sulking if it became apparent she was on the losing end. Then, later, long after the debate had taken place, she would swallow her pride and admit that David might have been right ‘that one time’ and offer an almost timid smile to make amends on something that hadn’t even been a quarrel in the first place.

“Does it?” Sara questioned, taking a bite of her cake and staring at the plate intensely, her brows knitting together as she mulled over Matteo’s statement.

“Yes, it does,” he said, now with more confidence, ”she’s a good person. You two are close friends and she’s been there for you many times.” Matteo nodded like it was something that he just came up with, reluctantly taking the last piece of his tart and chewing on it slowly. He really needed to remember to thank Sara for the pastry before they went their separate ways.

“Yeah...” Sara mumbled, finishing the last piece of her cake quickly and putting her fork back down on the plate with a loud clink.

“Did you have a crush on any of your friends? Before David?” she asked slowly, carefully. She seemed to fear crossing an invisible line. Her lips were pursed into a thin line, but her expression remained a mix of tentative and curious, her eyes locked on Matteo.

And now this was something he didn’t expect today. Talking about his past crush on Jonas was another red flag that triggered the long-lasted guilt he had felt for breaking Jonas and Hanna up in his jealousy fit. Besides, this was Sara he was talking with – a friend of Leonie’s, who had dated Jonas and had been friends with Hanna before it all came crashing down. Needless to say, this wasn’t really something he was too eager to talk about. But Sara’s eyes were wide and almost begging and he remembered again how desperately he had wanted to just belong. To relate.

Matteo let out a deep sigh, rubbing his forehead a little, and crossed his arms across his chest.

“I did,” he finally mumbled, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as Sara’s eyes seemed to get even more wide and eager. She leaned in more over the table, eyes still fixed on Matteo’s.

“You did? Who?” she exclaimed, grimacing immediately as she realized Matteo had a sorf of an uneasy look on his face, “I mean you don’t–.”

”Nah, it’s– I mean you told me, so it’s only fair,” he cut her off, bringing one hand up and biting his thumb for a short while again, contemplating how he should break the news but realizing he should just come clear with it. “It was Jonas.”

Sara’s mouth fell open in apparent disbelief and she huffed out a laugh.

“You’re shitting me. On Jonas? What is it with this guy that everyone seems to fall for him?”

Just like that, some of the tension in Matteo’s shoulders seemed to drop and he let his hands fall on his lap, almost sighing out in relief. It wasn’t weird. She didn’t find it weird, or well, not in the ‘well that’s fucked up’ way and that was really all he could’ve hoped for. Matteo laughed a little nervously, licking his lips and dropping his gaze for a bit before bringing it back to Sara.

“Yeah… But it wasn’t really before David that I came to terms with the fact that I like guys,” he said, wincing a tiny bit, ”as you might’ve been able to tell. I did start dating you.”

Sara hummed, her expression closing up for a while as she turned her head to look outside, deep in thought. The dread was building in Matteo’s gut but he tried to stick to the techniques they had gone through with his therapist, keeping his breaths long and even.

“I– You never told me why you did it,” she then said in a quiet voice, turning back to Matteo. ”Like I said, I obviously liked you a lot and wanted to be with you. But you didn’t. So I just… You know.”

Her eyes were a little sad, clouded by the past hurt resurfacing and Matteo had a moment of deep and pure self-hatred for knowing this was all on him.

“I really liked you, I swear,” he said just as quietly, dropping his gaze as he couldn’t really bear looking at Sara’s hurt expression any longer, ”but only as a friend. And I was a mess. First having major problems at home and then moving out, struggling with school and my mental health and on top of all that, having these gay feelings towards my best friend in a friend group which never talked anything but girls and sex.”

“Did they really talk about nothing else?” Sara wrinkled her nose, looking slightly disturbed.

“No, they didn’t – and I probably relate to whatever you’re feeling right now – but that’s beside the point,” he sighed, shaking his head, and lifted his gaze back up to meet Sara’s eyes again, ”the point is, I was in a really bad place and while it doesn’t excuse what I did, that was a reason for it. I wanted to fit in so badly and… be normal, I guess. I just– um...”

“You just wanted to be part of something and not having to explain yourself,” Sara finished for him, recalling their talk shortly after the break up, with a gentle smile on her lips.

“Yeah,” Matteo sighed, letting a smile spread across his lips, “now things with David have settled, though, compared to back then.”

“Is that what you call it? Settled?” she burst out laughing. “You’ve been disgustingly in love for ages by now!”

Matteo joined her laugher, smile widening even more, and allowed the relief to wash over him. He genuinely did like Sara, and always had. The consideration and tact had made it easy for him to approach her, and they’d talked about a lot of things, especially after they’d established their friendship. She came off as a determined and social person, but Matteo had learned she was extremely sensitive and took things easily to heart. He related to her in that sense, but what really hit him was the admiration. Sara was incredibly strong After her father had lost his job and they’d had to move, Sara hadn’t told anyone and came out of the whole mess on her own two feet and no tears in sight. Matteo had asked about it once, but she had simply shrugged and told him “there was no choice, it was what it was.” He really wished he had guts like hers.

Matteo ran a hand through his hair, a smile still wide on his face, and bent over, leaning his weight on his forearms that rested on the table.

“What do you want to know?” he asked, smirking a little at Sara’s frown as she shook her head a little questioningly. “About my whole ‘gay discovery’ and all, I mean.”

“Are you serious?” Sara’s eyes widened in astonishment. “I mean, are you sure?”

“Yeah. Ask away, I’ll answer,” Matteo nodded, pursing his lips. He wasn’t exactly sure what he had agreed to here, but in all honesty, it couldn’t be any more awkward than some of the questions the guys had asked him and David over the last months.

“Okay, um,” Sara frowned again, “how did you know you’re into David? Like, in a sexual way?”

She had swallowed the end of her sentence so that it took Matteo a little with to understand what she meant but she looked so flustered it wasn’t hard to guess. Matteo took a deep breath, trying to remind himself of the fact that this was not as embarrassing as he previously had thought and that he really wanted to help his friend here to figure herself out.

“Are you sure you want the honest version,” he asked slowly, looking for confirmation in her expression. ”Because I can also give you the more polite one, if you’d like.”

She looked a little hesitant for a second, before shaking her head and nodding. Matteo’s amused snort at the act caused Sara to scowl.

“The honest version,” she finally said and nodded again, clenching her hands into fists as if to steel herself against whatever it was that was that he was about to tell her.

“Okay,” he shrugged, ”I had to google how do I have sex with a woman when I’m not into her.”

His answer obviously threw her off guard, as she squawked and simply gaped at him for a few seconds.

“But we never even had sex,” she then managed to say, slowly, seeming uncertain about what it was that he was going to say next.

“Exactly. Never had to google how to have sex with a guy though, because I was so very into David,” Matteo smirked, “and we did have sex, which was–”

“Enough! I heard enough,” Sara hurriedly interrupted, shaking her hands in front of her, signaling him to stop, a slightly horrified expression on her face, “I think I got the point, thank you. I kinda regret asking.”

Matteo laughed a little, shaking his head, and straightened his back a little, expression falling into something more serious.

“There is no pattern to finding out stuff about yourself, Sara,” he said, looking straight into her eyes, ”and it can be really fucking scary when you suddenly do. I was in the closet for ages because besides the horrible timing of this discovery, I was horrified.”

“In the end, even if it took me a while, I realized it wasn’t something that I could change or’’work on’ in any way”, Matteo stated, making quotes with his fingers as he spoke. ”I just knew I had been crushing on guys, and that I wanted David. I didn’t need any more signs or proof. What I needed was courage and support, that’s what helped me to accept it.”

“Just like that?” Sara asked, looking a little taken aback, taking in everything that Matteo just said.

“It wasn’t exactly ‘just like that’, like I just said,” he snorted, rolling his eyes, “but you know, there was no choice, it was what it was.”

Sara stared at him blankly for a moment before understanding dawned on her, making her smile brightly.

”Way to throw my own words back at me,” she mocked, making Matteo grin and stick his tongue out. Sara laughed at the childish gesture, shoving his shoulder a little before settling back into her chair.

”Thank you,” she said quietly, after a short silence that had fallen on them. ”You’re right. It is so fucking scary, but I–,” her smile softened, “I think I’ll be alright. I just need to find the courage to tackle this.”

“You’re strong. It’ll be alright,” Matteo assured her, offering up his fist. Sara reluctantly pumped it with her own after leveling him an unimpressed look, and after a beat added: “Thank you for telling me.”

“I trust you,” Sara smiled a shy little smile, swiping some of the hair that had fallen out of her bun out of her face to the back of her ear, ”and I thought you might be able to help. And you really were, speaking wisdom and all, so thank you.”

Her sudden confession caused Matteo to squimri a little, not knowing how to accept the praise and react to it, so he just decided on humming in acknowledgement.

“Are you going to tell her, though?” Matteo asked in order to change the topic, but also because he was kind of curious. Not that he was going to play cupid anytime soon – he had had enough of that when trying to gently nudge Hanna and Jonas back together – but it didn’t mean he couldn’t pry.

Sara looked conflicted, thinking about it for a short while, tilting her head to the side, and shook her head.

“No, not yet. I’m not ready,” she said and bit her lip, “but I will when I’m okay with the whole– when I’m okay with being–” she stuttered before taking a deep breath and locking her eyes with Matteo’s.

“I will tell her when I’m comfortable with coming out as a bisexual,” she said, emphasizing all of the words just a little, like it was difficult to get them out. Matteo gave her the most encouraging smile he could muster up.

“Okay,” Matteo smiled.

They stayed in the café for a little while longer, chatting about this and that. Matteo promised to keep everything they had discussed between them, almost offended Sara had thought he might not. But he understood the fear she had, and shook his head and assured it’s in the past when she had expressed her own guilt about her behaviour back when they broke up, accusing Matteo openly for being gay due her judgement blinded by her own hurt.

As they finally decided to part ways, Sara surprised Matteo by pulling him into a tight hug. He returned it, although less fiercely, a little embarrassed smile on his face. As she turned to leave, going to the opposite direction of Matteo, he suddenly remembered what he was supposed to say a while back but completely forgot.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, making Sara stop and spin around, looking at him expectantly.

“Yeah?” she finally called out, when Matteo didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Thanks for the apple tart” he exclaimed gleefully, mimicking the barista at the counter that had left them both a little breathless and hoping for an escape. Sara’s laughter echoed on the street brightly.

She might still lack the courage, but he would damn sure continue to be her support.

_______________________________

Notes: Thank you so much for reading! I had this very specific urge to explore Matteo and Sara's friendship and its development, as well as their dynamics. So, this is my take on that and how the things would unfold if Sara would seek support from Matteo when she starts to question her sexuality.

I would love to hear your thoughts on this! How do you think their dynamics work? How'd you feel like their meet up? Anything else you want to say? All the comments, reblogs and likes are dearly appreciated!

Also, big shout out to my ever-so-lovely friend @mynameisnotthepoint for proofreading this story, and always cheering me on! ❤️

This is my third work for Fictober 2019. You'll find all the works here or on tumblr with a #fictober19 or on AO3 under the series “Fictober 2019″