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sunshinehaze1 · 3 hours ago

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On the Right Track

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You board the train to Chicago to find your sleeper cabin has been double booked.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. No outbreak AU, meet-cute, forced proximity-ish, use of pet names (darlin’, baby), oral sex (m&f), unprotected PiV. no use of Y/N.

a/n: the idea of getting “stuck” in a sleeper cabin during a long ass train ride with Joel Miller rotted my brain. So, here I am dumping it onto you. I hope you enjoy it! big time thank you to @80ssong for the beta 😘

word count: 5,442

ao3 | ml

The wheels of your suitcase emit a low, steady rumble as you drag it behind you, weaving through the crowd rushing past in the opposite direction. You're stopped short when one of the wheels gets caught in a crack in the concrete train platform. You breathe out a huff of frustration, "Goddammit!" and try to shimmy your suitcase loose.

You can't miss your train; you’ve been looking forward to this trip for the last year, another check on your “travel the country by train” bucket list. Mercifully, the wheel shakes loose, and you resume your quickened pace. Even with the extra time you allowed yourself to pack and get ready this morning, you didn’t account for the rush hour traffic. One of the many perks of working from home is not dealing with that nonsense. If only you had left your house 15 minutes earlier. You hate feeling rushed when you travel. A booming voice from the PA system bellows, “Final boarding call for Texas Eagle! ALL ABOARD!”

Shit! You pick up the pace; quick steps turn into a jog to make your train. You’re out of breath by the time you approach the entrance of your sleeper car. The conductor takes notice of your struggle, grabs your suitcase, and assists you up the steps. You navigate through the hallway of the sleeper car to find your cabin, your breath slowly returning to normal.

This trip from Austin to Chicago is over twenty-eight hours, so sparing the extra expense of a sleeper cabin was a no-brainer. You scan each door as you pass, looking for cabin 101. When you reach the correct door, looking forward to sitting and relaxing after your cardio session, you swing it open to find your cabin is not empty.

It has been two months since Sarah moved to Chicago for school. Joel has had a hard time adjusting to an empty nest. He's been able to occupy his time by taking on contracting jobs on the side and putting in more overtime. The extra money he's been able to bank has allowed him to take a week off work to visit Sarah.

Since childhood, he’s wanted to travel by train to see more of the country and for the experience. Due to the length of the trip and his back, he decided to spring for a sleeper cabin with some of his extra cash. Thankful he won't have to worry about engaging in awkward conversation with a chatty seatmate in one of the passenger cars.

Joel wasn't sure what to expect with train travel, so he arrived at the station an hour before departure. He was able to board and settle into the cabin without issue. He's in the middle of texting Sarah to let her know he boarded the train when the cabin door abruptly swings open.

You're surprised to see someone in your cabin. You double-check the number on the door’s plaque, compare it to your ticket, and look suspiciously at the annoyingly handsome, broad-shouldered man sitting on the bench seat, who looks equally perplexed. You booked a solo sleeper. What is this guy doing here?

“Um, there seems to be a mistake. I had booked this as a solo sleeper.”

“Yeah, I did too,” Joel sighs, “paid a pretty penny for it.”

You ask to see his ticket and see that he’s been assigned the same cabin number as you. Well, isn’t this your luck? You huff in annoyance, lean past the threshold into the corridor, and spot the conductor checking passenger tickets. He approaches when you grab his attention with a friendly wave. Hopefully, this is an unfortunate mix-up and can be resolved quickly.

“Welcome aboard the Texas Eagle. How can I help you, ma’am?”

“Hi, um," trying to shake out any annoyance in your voice, "There seems to be a mix-up. Our tickets are for cabin 101, but we booked a solo cabin separately.”

The conductor asks to see your tickets. He twitches his jaw in concentration as he looks over both tickets. He excuses himself to consult with the chief conductor. His return ends the twenty minutes of awkward silence between you and this handsome stranger, where avoiding eye contact felt like a full-time job.

“Thank you for your patience. Unfortunately, our sleepers have been overbooked for this trip. We apologize for the inconvenience." You and Joel sigh in unison, "I can move one of you to a passenger car, or you could share this cabin, and Amtrak will compensate you for the error.”

Joel looks up at you with a raised eyebrow. He studies your face to gauge which option you're leaning toward. Moving to a seat in the passenger car is not appealing to him, but if you were not keen on sharing a sleeper with a stranger, he’d concede. He wouldn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. But if he’s honest with himself, he would be disappointed. You are a beautiful woman, and he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better, even if it is not under ideal circumstances.

You take a few minutes to consider your options. Shifting your eyes around the cabin, trying to avoid Joel’s gaze. A seat in the passenger car is the least desirable of the two options. Fortunately, the cabin has two beds, so it’s not a total loss. There are far worse things than being stuck in a sleeper cabin with an attractive stranger. You’re a pretty good judge of character; he has kind eyes, and he hasn’t given off any creepy vibes in the brief time you've been in his presence. Could this be one of those meet-cutes you see in your favorite rom-coms?

Joel waits patiently for you to make the final call. You glance at him and then back at the conductor. “I’m fine with sharing the cabin.”

“Sounds good. Again, we’re so sorry for the inconvenience. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.”

When the conductor departs, you move further into the cabin and take in the cramped space. You start to lift your bag into the overhead bin, and Joel notices your struggle. He springs up from his seat to assist you. "Let me help ya there."

You feel the warmth of his body pressed against you as he lifts his arms above you. When he shoves your suitcase into the bin, you inhale his scent, a mix of fresh soap, sandalwood, and mint. You feel heat travel up your neck and hope he doesn’t notice.

Joel steps back when the bag is secured in the bin, and the vestiges of his warm body begin to cool on your back. A sense of disappointment washes over you. You liked the way his body felt against you. He felt safe.

When you turn around, you're met with his extended hand, and he introduces himself, “I’m Joel.”

You take his hand, so large it swallows yours, and introduce yourself with a firm handshake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Sorry, it had to be under these circumstances.”

“You t—“ The jolt of the train cuts you off as it lurches forward and throws you off balance and into Joel’s broad chest.

He grabs at you, careful not to place his hands anywhere inappropriately to keep you upright. You’ve now felt his sturdy form from your back and front sides, and it’s unnerving. You stare down at the dated carpet as you try to gain your composure before you look up at him shyly, “Sorry about that. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all.”

You return a soft smile and nod as you move to sit down. The morning's events have you completely frazzled, and you hope you can finally relax. You settle into your seat and pull out your book, locating the dog-eared page where you left off. The cabin is quiet except for the rumble of the train and the occasional announcement of the next stop, followed by its arrival. Neither you nor Joel was ready to cut through the silence just yet.

The tension of being in this tight space is distracting, and you're unable to focus on your reading. You peek up from your book and observe Joel. He’s staring out the cabin window, watching the blur of the Texas landscape speed by with his chin resting on the heel of his hand. It’s been a while since Joel has been out of Austin. He wants to see as much as possible during this ride.

You take in his profile. Admiring the strong, sharp jaw covered in a patchwork of dark scruff sprinkled with grey and a full mustache over a pair of pillowy lips. His furrowed brow sits atop a set of rich, chocolate eyes. Eyes that express a softness and warmth. You watch as the reflection of the country landscape flickers across his orbs. Shadows fall over the curve of his aquiline nose. It's as if the Romans chiseled his face out of travertine.

“Is everythin’ alright?!”

You shake out of your haze at Joel’s inquiry. Busted. You’ve never been good at subtlety, so you’re not surprised he’s caught you staring.

“Yeah, yeah…everything’s fine.” You clear your throat, trying to buy yourself some time to come up with an explanation for your ogling, “I…I was trying to remember if I locked my doors before I left this morning.”

Joel grins. He doesn’t entirely believe you. He’s pretty sure he caught you staring at him. It felt nice. A sense of pride that a woman as beautiful as you would give him the time of day. “Oh, I know that feeling.”

You nod in response, and the silence returns as you resume your activities. The tension thickens as the awkwardness continues for a couple more stops. A silent internal debate over who would break the silence first wars between you. Unable to bear it any longer, you finally squeak out, “So, what’s in Chicago?”

Joel is surprised by the question, not the question itself, but that you were more confident than him to break the silence. “My daughter, Sarah, she’s at Northwestern.”

“Oh, wow, that’s impressive.” You see Joel light up with pride at your praise.

“Yeah, I’m not sure where she gets it. Certainly not from me.” Joel scoffs.

You let out a short laugh. Not fully believing his self-deprecation. You've only known him briefly, but Joel strikes you as a smart guy.

Joel continues, “I haven’t seen her since she left for school two months ago. I can’t wait to see her.”

Joel’s excitement is palpable. His smile reaches his eyes as he talks about his daughter. My god, this man is handsome. You're not sure how you'll survive the rest of this trip, sharing a cabin with him.

“And how about you?” Joel inquires, “What’s the reason for your trip?”

“It’s kind of silly.” You flash Joel a sheepish smile. “I’ve always wanted to travel the country by train. I have taken a different route each time for the last few years. Only eight more to go to hit all states! It’s been a fun experience, and I’ve met many interesting people.”

Joel is intrigued. "That doesn't sound silly to me."

He admires your independence and courage to travel on your own. Charming, beautiful, and a sense of adventure. There’s no way you could be single. But wouldn’t they be on this trip with you if you had a significant other? He hesitates to ask but decides to go for it. “Is there anyone who would miss you while you're on this trip?”

A warmth spreads up your neck, reaching your cheeks. You answer Joel bashfully, “If my silver pothos counts, then…yes.”

Joel huffs a laugh. His confidence grows with the confirmation that you're single. “Darlin’, that’s a shame. You seem like a real catch.”

Could this be happening? Is this annoyingly handsome and charming man showing an interest in you? Darlin’? You’ve been in Texas long enough to know “darlin’” is used as frequently as “ma’am.” But this sounds different. Maybe you are experiencing a real-life meet-cute. It's been a year since you and your ex broke up. You’ve had time to heal but haven’t yet dipped your toe back into dating, but you'd be willing to take the plunge with this man.

Joel hasn’t had a serious relationship in a while. He prioritized raising Sarah and growing his contracting business. Sarah has encouraged him to put himself out there and meet someone. She's worried about him alone at home now that she’s off at school. It’s been an adjustment for Joel, getting used to an empty nest. He misses the stomps of Sarah’s footsteps as she races down the stairs each morning, the sound of pop music blasting through the stereo in her room, and late nights on the couch watching Curtis and Viper—Sarah falling asleep with her head on Joel's shoulder. Finding someone warm, caring, and beautiful to spend time with would be nice—someone like you.

As the train rolls on, you and Joel learn more about each other. Your comfort level and attraction to each other grow with each stop. You learn that he runs his own construction business with his brother. How he’s raised his daughter on his own, Sarah’s mother having left the both of them when she was still a baby. You tell him about your job and how it brought you to Austin. A place that is finally starting to feel like home.

It’s been over ten hours since you rushed to board the train. Ten hours filled with embarrassing mishaps, awkward silences, and engaging conversation. Ten hours of proximity to one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever met. And ten hours later, he asks you to have dinner with him in the dining car—a date.

You could tell that Joel was nervous when he asked. It was sweet. His eyes focused on the carpet’s intricate pattern; his hand rubbed the back of his neck before he looked over at you. “Would you...would you like to have dinner with me?”

“I’d love to, Joel!”

The food was pretty decent for being served on a train. If Joel plays his cards right, he might have a chance to take you on a proper dinner date without the rattling silverware. Joel admires you from across the table. He watches your fidgety fingers wrapped around the stem of your wine glass, rotating it in a circle on the white tablecloth.

You may still be nervous, but talking to Joel is easy. He’s warm and confident, with a great sense of humor. You feel the attraction between you continue to grow. You’ve even caught his eyes land on your lips a few times.

Joel can’t recall the last time he was on a proper date. He didn't last long on the dating app Sarah downloaded and set up his profile. After two weeks of confusion about which direction to swipe, easily bored by the rote introductory messages, he deleted it. He resigned that he’d have to meet someone in the wild. Did that even happen anymore? But here he is, with you, never imagined he would meet someone on the train. Grateful for the inconvenient cabin mix-up that led you to him.

Joel pays the tab, and you thank him for dinner with a kiss on his cheek. It was the best date you’ve ever had. He grabs your hand and walks you back to your shared cabin. As you open the door, you feel Joel’s hand lightly pressed against the small of your back, his pinky teasing the waistband of your jeans. The warmth of his hand through your top sends a thrill up your spine. He guides you into the space and closes the door behind him.

Once the door is locked, his palms are at your waist to spin you around to face him. "You're so beautiful."

"You're not so bad yourself, handsome." Your palms pressed flat against him, feeling the warmth of his chest and the low beat of his heart pulsating through the soft cotton of his shirt.

Your breath quickens as his eyes map the delicate features of your face. He holds your gaze with his warm brown eyes, then trails down to your pillowy lips, returning to your eyes, seeking permission to kiss you. You grant it with a subtle nod, and he leans in; your heart pulsates with each inch he draws nearer. A needy moan emits from you as his lips finally press against yours. Soft, wet, warm. You invite him further with an open mouth and tease of your tongue along his lower lip. You've wanted to feel his lips against yours since he introduced himself.

His fingers toy with the hem of your shirt before he lifts it above your head and off. Discarded to the floor in one swift motion. He stares at your perfect tits caged in by black lace. He cups them gently in his palm while his index finger and thumb tweak your nipples to attention. A pleasurable hiss escapes your lips. His hands traipse down your supple skin until they reach your waist. With his fingers threaded in the belt loops of your jeans, his body looms large, and he guides you until the backs of your legs meet the bench.

He leans into you and seals your lips with his as his hands roam over the plane of your back. His fingers tease over the clasp of your bra, and he unfastens it in a swift motion releasing your tits from their lace confines. His other hand trails downward and slips into the back of your jeans, and squeezes your ass. Your body shudders at his grip.

He squats down to place his mouth over your tit. Kissing, licking, and sucking out sweet moans from you. His hands move to the front of your pants to unfasten them as he continues to distract you with his ministrations across your chest. In one pull, your bottom half is bare to him.

He nudges you gently to sit as he lowers to his knees; a creak of his joints echoes in the small room. His cock is painfully hard, pressing against the zipper of his jeans. He wraps his forearms around your thighs and pulls you in closer to his face. His sharp nose trails over your mound, and he inhales, moaning at your scent. He drapes your legs over his broad shoulders and lathes a slow swipe of his tongue through your folds, the tip brushing against your clit. "Fuck!" You manage to blurt out.

With a firm grip on your thighs, he continues to eat at you. He latches onto your clit and sucks, causing you to buck your hips into his face. Unphased, Joel continues his relentless pursuit of your pussy. He wants to lap up every drop of arousal that is leaking out of you. A strong desire to bring you over the edge with just his lips and tongue. He can feel you're close when your walls tighten around his tongue. Your breathy moans increase and become louder as he inches you toward your release.

Joel rises from the floor as you catch your breath. In a haze of euphoric bliss, you paw at his jeans, pleading for him to get undressed and switch places with you on the bench. "Joel," you whimper, "I need you inside me. Now."

With that, Joel hurriedly pulls off his shirt and strips his jeans and boxers in one fell swoop. He offers his hand to assist you up from the bench, legs still wobbly from your first orgasm. He sits down and pats one palm on his meaty thigh while the other lazily strokes his cock. "C'mere baby."

Eagerly, you situate yourself to straddle Joel’s lap, knees pressed against the back cushion. You tease kisses over his face and trail down to where his neck meets his shoulder. He moans when you leave a soft bite and then soothe the area with your tongue. You rub the wet folds of your pussy up and down his length, whimpering when the tip of his cock brushes against your clit.

A gasp escapes you when the head teases at your entrance, seeking further access. You slowly sink onto his cock until he’s fully sheathed inside your warm pussy. “Fuck,” Joel exhales, “this pussy is so fucking wet, just swallowing my cock.”

The vibration of the train as it moves over the tracks heightens the sensation as you bounce on his cock and he mouths at your tits. His thumb teases your bottom lip, and you suck the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the salty tip. Desperate to make you come again, he removes his thumb and lowers his hand between your bodies. The pressure, as he circles your clit, ignites a fire in your core, bringing you closer to the edge. He can feel your pussy clench around his cock; he knows you’re close, “I need you to come, darlin’.”

With his permission, you explode around his length. Your head is thrown back in ecstasy, feeling confident you can be as loud as you want with the roaring drone of the train; you wail out his name. With your neck bare to Joel, he leans forward to lick a trail upwards to leave light nips along your jaw before his mouth overtakes yours in an all-consuming kiss.

You squeal when Joel stands up from the bench in one fluid motion, still inside you. His palms squeeze your ass, and your arms are tight around his thick neck, keeping you secure as he shuffles over to the fold-down table. He moves one of his arms to wrap around your back and gently lays you on the cold surface, leaning forward to place kisses across the valley between your tits. As he straightens, his hands tighten around your hips, pulling you closer to meet his thrusts, which begin at a steady pace.

Your desire for him is overwhelming. The need for him has you in a daze as your body shifts back and forth against the tabletop. “Fuck me harder, Joel.”

Joel doesn’t need to be told twice—his speed quickens. The sound of his pelvis slapping into your ass reverberates around the small space. Your body is slick with sweat, and your mind is buzzing as your walls clamp around his length. The intense pleasure coils in your core, ready to snap. He watches your tits bounce in tandem with his thrusts, mesmerized by the heavy weight of them jostling back and forth.

“Joel…ah…” you spit out, “fuck!”

“I know, baby. I know.”

He gazes down in between your bodies, focused on where his cock meets your wet folds. Entranced by your pussy, lips stretched around his shaft coated in your arousal. “She’s choking me, baby.” He breathes out, “She’s so fucking tight. Perfect pussy taking me like a good girl.”

A cacophony of moans and grunts swirls around the two of you. He’s on the precipice of his orgasm, but he needs you to come again for him. He needs to feel your walls spasm around him a second time. He leans forward to kiss you, whispers into your lips how beautiful you are wrapped around his cock, how gorgeous you look when you come. “Give me one more. Be a good girl for me, and give me one more.”

On his command, your walls flutter around him as your release takes over. Thighs shake as their grip tightens around his hips, and you cry out his name. “That’s it…that’s it.”

He pulls out of you, hand wrapped around his base, and he strokes his cock, slick with your arousal. Grunting as he covers your mound and lower belly with his come. He collapses over you, kissing your cheeks and lips. “You’re incredible. That was incredible.”

You can only respond with a nod and pull his face to yours for another blistering kiss.

While you clean up in the bathroom, Joel turns down one of the beds. No longer a need for two separate beds. You crawl under the covers to join him, back pressed against his chest. His arm wraps around your waist, and he pulls you in tight. His hot breath wafts against your neck before he peppers kisses along the column of your neck and down your shoulder. You relax into him with a low hum. You’re quickly lulled to sleep by the beat of his heart and the drone of the train's movement along the tracks.

You wake up in Joel’s warm embrace, the sun’s rays leaking through the curtains. His fingers traverse your bare arm, easing you awake. "How'd you sleep, darlin'?" his gruff morning voice breaking into the space.

"Perfect. I had a furnace behind me that kept me nice and warm." You feel Joel smile against your hair.

You expected it would be awkward this morning, but everything felt right. Comfortable. Safe. Perfect. Like this was meant to be. You can't recall ever feeling this way about someone, especially not someone you've only known for little more than a day. Your mind wanders to the "what ifs," starting to get into your head about whether Joel feels the same. What if he doesn't? What then?

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Joel interrupts your spiral.

"About how good this feels. How right…how…and how fucking terrifying that is."

Your hair rustles when Joel huffs a chuckle. "It does, and it is. But we can be terrified together. If you want?"

You turn in his arms to face him with a wide, beautiful smile. It squeezes at Joel's heart; his affection for you is overpowering. He's never felt this way with anyone. He'll be devastated if you say "no." Thankfully, you don't make him wait too long for your response. The seconds that have passed tormented him enough. He sweeps a loose tendril behind your ear and softly trails his palm down your cheek, fingertips teasing your jawline while he waits for your reply.

"I would love nothing more than to be terrified with you." you tease.

Joel smirks and tilts your face toward him with a finger under your chin. He presses his plush lips over yours. Teasing your seam with his tongue, pleading for entry. Your lips slot open, welcoming him into your mouth. Tangled tongues, heated breath, an all-consuming passionate kiss.

When he pulls away, the both of you desperately try to catch your breath. You feel his hardness against your thigh. Your soft hand wraps around his thickness, offering slow strokes and teases over the slit swirling the precum around the head with your thumb. Joel lets out a breathy moan and thrusts into your palm. You don't want to leave him without getting a taste of his cock, so you begin your descent down his firm chest leaving kisses in your wake. "Baby, you don't have to…"

Your eyes meet his as your lips approach his cock. "I know. But I want to."

You wink as you take him in your mouth. His fingers weave through the hair at the back of your skull. Gently moving you further down his shaft, your nose brushing against the tuft of hair above his base. With the tip of his cock meeting the back of your throat, you delicately caress his balls in your palm.

"Fuck, baby," Joel grunts. "Yes, take it all. Your perfect lips wrapped around my cock. A goddamn dream."

At his praise and encouragement, you bob up and down his length. Swirling your tongue around the tip when you release him with a pop to catch your breath, only to return to a steady pace. His hands grip the root of your hair, and you feel his balls tighten in your hands. He's close. "Just like that…that's it. hnnnghhh, I'm going to come."

He tries to pull you off of him, but you take him even deeper with a strong grip on the back of his thighs. You want him to come in your mouth. Feel his warm seed spurt across your tongue. Lap up every drop, savor his taste, and swallow it down. You moan along his length, which reverberates up Joel's spine. His orgasm takes hold, and with a deep, guttural groan, his arousal pours into your mouth.

"Fuckin' hell, darlin'." You smile up at him, satisfied. He watches you as you wipe the corners of your mouth and suck the cum off the tip of your thumb with a moan. "You're amazing at that."

"Yeah?"

He pulls you up by your forearms until your face is level with his. His lips brush along the tip of your nose, to your cheeks, and then to your lips. Hovering over them with hot breath, "Yeah," he nods and seals your lips with his, tasting himself on your tongue.

He breaks the kiss with a smirk, "So…how about a second date?"

You laugh into his shoulder. Still unbelieving that all of this happened. "Absolutely. Just don't expect me to put out."

He responds with a booming laugh. You could get used to this sound. "I would never," as he squeezes you into him and kisses your forehead.

After you both are dressed, you settle in together on the bench to spend the last hours of the trip as close to each other as possible. Your back against the wall and legs strewn over his thighs. His thumbs circle your calves in a soothing motion as you read your book in contented silence. You didn't get to read as much as you wanted, but you're not complaining.

The train’s PA system crackles, “Last stop, Chicago.”

You look at Joel apprehensively, the realization that this time is quickly coming to an end. He squeezes your hand reassuringly as you both move to stand. Joel pulls your bag out of the bin and insists on carrying it off the train for you. You both walk through the narrow hall, you in front, because ��ladies first.” When you glance over your shoulder, you catch Joel staring at your ass. You tease with a coy smile and a wink, “Eyes up here, Joel.”

You watch as a smirk grows into a sly grin across his face, the dimple on his right cheek making an appearance along with a glint in his eyes. Fuck, you’re in trouble.

As you exit the train, the conductor gives you both a knowing look with the tip of his hat. Your cheeks heat with embarrassment. Joel wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, and plants a kiss on your temple.

Joel freely gives this PDA while completely unaware that his daughter is watching it all transpire from afar. She arrived at the station early because she was so excited to see her dad, not expecting that she'd witness his uninhibited affection so publicly.

“Thanks for the ride, Joel.” He erupts in laughter.

“Anytime, darlin’. Any time.” He embraces you in his strong arms and leaves you with a chaste, parting kiss. “I'll see you soon.”

“You better!” You turn and walk away, Joel watching intently at the sway of your hips, once again admiring the curve of your ass.

Joel runs his hand over his face in disbelief. The last twenty-eight hours were something. He shakes it off to look for Sarah in the crowd. When he finds her, she's barreling toward him to meet him halfway and wraps him in a huge hug. The impact almost knocks him off balance. With a chortle, "Hey, baby girl! I missed you!"

“I missed you, too!" With one eyebrow quirked, "So, dad…how was the trip?” Joel watches as Sarah's eyes shift across the platform in your direction. Your back towards them.

Joel smiles sheepishly, “It was good,” suddenly interested in watching a small bug crawl across the station platform to avoid Sarah's interrogating gaze. " It was really good."

Not one to let him off easy, she senses something different about her father. He has a glow in his eyes; he looks happy. Sarah knows it’s more than just seeing her. “Aw, come on, dad. Who was that woman I saw you with?”

Busted. “Oh,” he feels the flush creeping up his neck. “Funny story…” He drapes his arm over Sarah's shoulder, "I'll tell you in the car."

Joel pulls his phone from his pocket and climbs into Sarah’s car.

[Joel] I can’t wait to see you again

[you] Same. I hope you have a great trip 😘

[Joel] You too, darlin'

Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to know what you think. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

npt for folks who engaged in my WIP fic covers post (let me know if you’d like to be removed): @ak-vintage @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @nerdieforpedro @everybodylovedcontractors @inept-the-magnificent

#joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal #on the right track

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autumnhobbit · 1 day ago

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Genuinely think half the problem here is a lot of parents are not in a place themselves where they can teach their kids how to recognize when something is good, and how to handle the intricacies of emotions, attraction, and decency while navigating social relationships with other people.

When I was growing up, the way adults talked about relationships, both amidst themselves and directly to me, gave me the idea that marriage just sort of happened, like it was something you tripped into without conscious choice and were now stuck with. This led to a conclusion by me that any male I met could possibly be my future husband, which colored every interaction with stress and awkwardness and fear and kept me from actually being normal around other kids, because I had artificially inserted this importance into interactions that should have just been. Well. Interactions.

Looking back on it now, I can see that every single crush I had had absolutely nothing to do with looking at another person objectively, judging their character and decency, or even seeing if I liked them; if they made me feel safe, or engaged, or reinvigorated. I only had crushes on boys who I found cute or attractive. None of those necessary thoughts ever went into it, and none of the boys even liked or noticed me. Maybe one or two of them were actually people I liked and talked to. Hindsight also helps me see that when a guy was interested in me or had a crush on me, I was oblivious to it and was incredibly uncomfortable, because we were all kids and didn’t know how to talk or act and it just came off like them showing off around me or trying to talk to me when I didn’t know them, which led to avoidance on my part.

My husband was the first guy I ever met whom I actually liked and was interested in, and he was the first one who actually seemed openly interested in me. When I daydreamed about marriage as a kid, the only thing I thought about was a boy liking me. I never thought about what I would like about him, just about being appreciated and valued myself. Selfish, right? But I was emotionally neglected and it came out as desperately longing to be important to someone. And then when I found it, I realized it naturally came with a reciprocal effect on me. I do find my husband fascinating and comforting and I enjoy his company, I want to do things with him, experience new things with him, build a life with him. That couldn’t have happened if I dismissed him right away because I wanted to avoid the awkwardness of getting to know him.

I am aware we got incredibly lucky with each other, and I’m grateful for it. But what we have also took work that we both consciously chose to do. We had the guidelines of knowing that premarital sex wasn’t an option for us, and that certainly helped. But it’s tragic to think how many people could build happiness with someone if they could just let go of their fantasies and expectations long enough to see what’s really there and what could be if there’s mutual effort. But how could they? No one taught them, because no one knew how themselves. So many families of origin weren’t formed by conscious choice but by natural consequences of behavior, even if your parents are decently healthy and love you, they might well have no clue how to navigate relationships with others.

trads who use the term "courtship" are an immediate red flag to me

#idk what the answer is here #i think a lot about people who are delightfully emotionless about things like this #and not in a ‘i don’t give a shit’ way #but in an ‘i’m not tangled up in expectations and buried longing and loneliness so i can tell you there’s nothing there’#emotions are meant to be good things but in circumstances like relationships you have to watch them #that they’re not distorting your reality and making you put up with things you shouldn’t #even outside of abuse #maybe you’re just putting all your longing on a person who doesn’t feel the same for you #and you deserve better than that

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hanahaki-disease · 2 days ago

Text

Driven by a Holy Force

Hell or High Water - Percy Jackson/DC crossover

Summary:

“Percy took a deep breath. This was it. No going back now. He can’t manipulate the mist to change their minds, he can’t make them forget—this was the real deal.”

This is it!! The reveal!!

*********************************************

You: Come to the cave 2:26 am

You: Important meeting 2:26 am

Edge Lord: no 2:29 am

Edge Lord: why 2:29 am

You: it’s important 2:31 am

You: please 2:32 am

Edge Lord: fine 2:35 am

Percy slid his phone back into his pocket, hoping the signal didn’t alert any monsters nearby. He doubts they’d be able to find him though. At the speed they were going, as well as all the unnecessary turns and short cuts Bruce was making, he’d be surprised if any monster in general was able to follow. Hell hounds were fast, and their noses were just as good as a normal dog, but the overwhelming scent of mortal that encompassed Gotham helped hide Percy’s demigod scent well. It was one of the main reasons he didn’t get attacked so much, which he was so thankful for.

He told Bruce that he was going to tell him about his father, but he also was going to tell everyone everything because both his father and his life go hand in hand. Percy can’t tell Bruce about his father without telling him about the war, and he can’t tell him about the war without telling him about the prophecy. And because him and Jason have the same father, then he has to explain why Jason died. Everything had layers, it was all connected in a complicated mess that would be easier to explain all at once with everyone there.

Which means having Jason, Bruce, and Dick in the same room for a minimum of at least thirty minuets while he talks. Gods, he hopes no one starts shit.

“Who were you texting?” Bruce asks. They were on one of the back roads that led to one of the cave entrances, dark forest brush and canopies covering the road. How Bruce can see through it, even with his mega-bright headlights, Percy will never understand.

“Jason,” Percy answered, “If I’m going to talk about my father, Jason should be there too. And, I also asked for everyone else to be there too.”

“Why?” Bruce activated the entrance to open, revealing the tunnel that led to the cave.

He paused for a moment, watching the wall lights of the tunnel flash by before it opened into the cave proper. His domino was still in his hands, the glue that kept it secure was drying a cracking on his face and he wanted to scratch and peel it off. “I wanna tell you guys about some stuff other than my father, and I don’t wanna repeat myself five more times than I have to.”

Bruce nodded his head as he parked, their presence catching the attention of the others waiting for them. Stephanie and Tim had just returned from their own patrols, it seemed. All their gear was still attached to them, and they were still wearing their uniforms as well. Their hair a mess of knots and frizz from the wind, various bruises and scraps littered Tim’s arms and Steph was limping as she hobbled to the dressing rooms to change.

Cassandra and Dick were pouring over a case at the meeting table. There were a couple folders open, the documents inside spread out along one end of the surface while a cardboard box filled with other folders took residence on a nearby chair. Both of them wore comfortable civvies, sweatpants and t-shirts (with a ‘borrowed’ hoodie Cass ‘acquired’ from Percy’s closet,) and their dominoes to hide their identities. Because even though they weren’t scheduled for patrol, they still had to follow the ‘masks while in the cave’ rule. (But Percy and Alfred did not follow it since they didn’t leave the property anyways.)

“Woah, where did you go dressed like that?” Dick had done a double take when they pulled up, catching the other’s attention. They all had various levels of surprise, save for Alfred, at the sight of Percy in an all-black version of Tim’s Robin suit. To them, the idea of Percy being like them was a far-fetched and impossible thought. He had always been adamant about not joining them and preferring to stay in the cave, deciding to being Alfred’s assistant when patching them up.

“Needed some fresh air,” he said, taking one of the seats at the table.

Tim slid into one of the chairs beside him, mask removed and cape-less, and in a hushed voice, he asked “Are you?” Percy nodded. “You sure? Won’t you get in trouble?”

“I have to, Tim,” Percy said. “You know what’s coming and I can’t leave in the dark if something happens.”

“Is Jason…?”

“I asked him to come, and it sounded like he was, but everyone’s here,” Percy sighed, “So, I dunno. I hope he does, I don’t wanna repeat myself more than I have to.”

Tim nodded his head, undoing the bracers on his arms. “Okay, well, if you need me to tap in, I can, alright? Imma go change before you start.”

Percy twirled his pen in his hand as he waited for everyone to get situated. For them to shed the armor they wore and to give Jason a chance to arrive before he began. But Percy knows that his brother would rather stay as far away from Bruce as he could, their estranged relationship already on thin ice for reasons Percy didn’t want to know. He probably should know, but he decided to keep Bruce and his brother’s problems to themselves.

Slowly, the others began to fall in, sitting themselves into their unassigned assigned seats. Bruce at the head of the table with Dick and Cassandra on either side of him. Stephanie sat next to Cass, her leg propped up on the empty chair with an ice pack resting on her ankle. Percy was sitting at the opposite head with Tim next to him on his right, watching as Percy twirled riptide in his hands.

Percy took a deep breath. This was it. No going back now. He can’t manipulate the mist to change their minds, he can’t make them forget—this was the real deal.

The flash of a headlight against the cave wall caught their attention before the roar of the motor hit their ears. It startled the bats above them and Percy swore the ground rumbled as well, but maybe he did that by accident. He’s done that before at camp, in the restrooms and in the big house kitchen.

The group all seemed to tense at Jason’s arrival, his recent switch to anti-heroism instead of drug lord did little to calm the other’s nerves. They were glad that Jason was more amenable to working with them after he and Bruce warred it out for a bit. He lingered at the edges of his part of town and didn’t turn the others away immediately, so that was a step in the right direction. Though his status as a crime lord didn’t really bother Dick, Cass, or Percy. They still waltzed into that side of town like they owned it alongside the second Wayne son.

Jason did not want to be here but will endure for Percy.

Heavy boots marched up to the table and a loud scrape of the chair closest to Percy rang in the cave. It seemed like he, too, had just gotten off of his own patrol. He tossed his helmet on the table, echoing in the silence that had fallen on them when Jason arrived. But Jason didn’t pay any attention to Bruce or Dick, their stares boring hole into his back as Jason made his chair face Percy. “Alright. I’m here, what was so important that I had to abandon my after-patrol tacos?”

Percy sat straighter in his chair. “Okay, okay,” he ran his hand over his face, pushing back his fringe, “Okay, so, you know the stories and legends of the Greek gods, right? The deities the ancient Greeks worshiped to explain natural phenomenon and all that. And…you know how the gods in the stories came down to earth and had kids? Heracles, Achilles, Theseus. Well, the gods are real. They are real and they’re still having kids, they’ve never stopped, not really, and I…”

Percy looked at Jason. At his older brother whose mother was the same as his, whose father sired two powerful children.

“My biological father—Jason and I’s biological father—is Poseidon, god of the sea.” They sat there quiet, uncomfortably so, staring at Percy as if he was spewing nonsense. But Percy could tell that Cass believed him. She could tell by the heaviness on his shoulders as he spoke, the tiredness that rolled off him in small waves. Percy also knows that Jason knows he wasn’t lying, some kind of inherit knowledge and acceptance that he was also the son of a god. “And every summer, with the exception of this past Christmas, I have been going to a camp that is designed for demigods to train and learn how to survive.”

“When I was twelve, I didn’t get kidnapped—” This caught Bruce and Dick’s attention. “I had become a fugitive of the state because I was given a quest to find and retrieve the king of the gods’ missing lightning bolt to prevent a war between him and my father. I left the summer after that because I had to find the Golden fleece to save the magic border that was keeping the camp safe after it had been poisoned.

“Last Christmas, I had to rescue two demigods and find the goddess of the hunt who had gone missing while also putting Atlas back in his prison,” Percy kept going, waiting for their reaction when he finished. “This past summer, the summer that Jason came back, I was on a quest with one of my best friends in the Labyrinth to stop Kronos’s forces and to find the lost god of the wild.”

“Percy, wha—” Dick tried but there was no stopping Percy now that he started.

“And, should I have told you all this years ago? Yes, I probably should have considering how close I’ve gotten to dying in the past three years, but,” that left the room feeling heavier than it should, “Next year—on my sixteenth birthday, there is a prophecy that a child of the eldest gods will be the deciding factor of whether Olympus will survive the war against Kronos. I-…I am the prophecy child, and there is a chance that I might…not survive.”

Percy’s voice was near a whisper towards the end, a little shaky as wobbly as he spoke to keep the tears at bay. He doesn’t know why he was acting like this. Percy had come to terms with the fact that he was the child of the prophecy almost a year ago on Olympus when Thalia swore herself to the hunt. He knew that it was up to him, that he would be the one to lead the camp, assemble their meager forces, and train child soldiers against a titan in a year.

He accepted his fate, so why was he close to tears telling his family?

“The fuck to you mean ‘might not survive?’ What do you mean that our father is Poseidon?” Jason was the first to speak, leaning forwards on to the table. “You can’t be serious.”

“You asked me where I had gotten my white streak from, remember? And I told you it was ‘a long story?’” Percy looked at his brother. “I held up the sky for twenty minutes, I kept the sky from falling onto earth and destroying it, and it was the heaviest thing in the entire world. Stephanie once asked where I gotten this scar on my thumb was, I had gotten stung by a scorpion from the pits for Tartarus, whose venom can kill in sixty seconds. This scar on my stomach is from I fought the minotaur on my way to camp for the first time, I have one on my leg from where I got stung by the Chimera. This one if from a pack of hell hounds, this is from some empusai last summer—”

Percy lifted his shirt, exposing the burn scars that ran across his back and his left arm. It was nasty looking, but healed without any lasting damage. Though sometimes in the summer when the days are scorching hot, it felt like his back was on fire once again. Burning from the incomprehensively hot steam that erupted from the volcano. “This is from when St Helens blew up—when I blew up St Helens. If I was lying, Jason,” he looked at his brother a little coldly, offended that he was making this all up when he was marred by the ‘glory’ he had earned. “Then why do I have the scars to prove it.”

“Percy,” Bruce called his name. “What war?”

He sat down in his chair again, “For the past few years, the titan lord Kronos has been rising. He’s growing an army of monsters, minor gods, and other demigods to overthrow Olympus and set everything back to the stone age.”

“Why haven’t we heard anything about this?” Dick asked him. “Why haven’t you told us about this sooner, we could’ve helped.”

“We can’t help,” Tim answered. “Trust me, I’ve tried, but we can’t. We aren’t like Percy or Jason, we can’t see past the mist, we can’t enter camp, were just mortals.”

“You knew! How long have you known?” Stephanie pointed at Tim, who nodded unapologetically, “I’ve known for a year, since Percy came back last Christmas. But I’ve tried everything to see past the mist but I can’t.”

“Mist? What mist?” Cassandra looked to him.

Percy popped open riptide, the bronze sword expanding and folding over itself till it reached it’s full size. He saw Jason’s eyes widen at the sight. Standing in alarm when the Riptides’ point nearly poked him. What the fuck, he mouthed. “The mist is the magical veil that hides and protects the mortals from the mythological mess that is my life. To you, and Tim can confirm, this looks like a bat. A classic, wooden baseball bat—”

“What fuckin’ bat? That’s a goddamn sword!” Jason exclaimed. “Wait, you can’t see it? What the fuck, why can I see it?”

“Because you’re also a son of Poseidon, you’re a demigod like me,” Percy said.

“So why didn’t I go to that camp if I was like you? Why didn’t I train to fight monsters ‘n shit?”

“You weren’t meant to.”

Whatever Jason was feeling stopped, his whole body stopped, as if Percy had just pushed pause on the remote. “What?”

“The fates made it so you didn’t go, it-…your, y’know, was the price father paid.” Percy said, his head resting on his wrist as he said it. Tears once again welling up in his eyes. “Me getting the prophecy was the price father paid for breaking the oath, twice. We aren’t supposed to exist and this is the consequence.”

When Percy looked at Jason again, all the color drained from his face. His words a revelation that shook Jason’s whole worldview to its core. Eyes blown wide, hands in his hair pulling at the roots, as whatever thoughts he was having took over. “Jay,” Someone called but Percy was more worried at the sight of his brother, crumbling apart after realizing not only was his death was intentional but the gods themselves made it happen.

He stumbled backwards, his balance swaying for a second before Jason made eye contact with Percy. And there was a kind of betrayal that Percy could see in his brother’s eyes, the kind that ran hand-in-hand with jealousy. Percy remembers seeing it on the faces of other kids in camp when they learn that Percy has had more contact with their parent than they did, when the gods chose him over their own children.

Jason stumbled his way towards him back, ignoring the concerned calls from Dick and Cassandra. And in a few seconds Jason was speeding away, his helmet still facing Percy on the table.

He wanted to chase after Jason, to tell him everything their father told him this morning. That Poseidon does care for him, that he wanted to step in and save him. But Percy knows that telling him would only make it worse, that telling him that not only does Percy know who they were and who their father was, but that said father preferred Percy over him. That Percy was the child he was willing to speak with (even though that was far from the truth.)

“How do we stop Kronos?” Bruce finally asked, pulling off the cowl, and Percy could see the restrain that kept him rooted to his seat. Bruce wanted to go after Jason too, but he couldn’t, he had to focus on one thing at a time. Batman can multitask and can do many things all at once. But he wasn’t Batman right now. His words might’ve been the bat’s, but the unmasked, worried and pained look he held was his dad’s. It that of a father worried about sending his son, potentially sons head first into a war. One he didn’t even know existed till it might’ve been too late.

“If I knew how, I would tell you, but you guys can’t be a part of this.” Percy tore his eyes away from Jason’s retreating form. “I have already explained this to Tim, but this is a war you can’t fight. The monsters that are a part of that army, as well as the weapons and places they reside, are hidden from mortal minds.”

“So what, we just sit on the sidelines while you go and become a martyr? I’m not letting you do that, Percy,” Dick said.

“You can’t—help—Dick, none of you can, point blank. That’s final.” Percy spoke with a finality of a general. “I’m not telling you guys this to make you feel helpless or to give me pity or any dumb bullshit like that, I’m telling you so that if something happens next year, you won’t be caught off guard. So that if the news around New York is all fucked up, or if aunt Diana disappears for a bit, you’ll know why.”

“Diana knows?” Stephanie asked.

“She’s a daughter of Zeus, technically my cousin,” Percy says. “But the point is: I didn’t want to hide this from you guys anymore. I wanted to keep you guys out of this for as long as I could because monsters follow me everywhere, I’m not safe anywhere but camp, and I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you guys got hurt because of something from my world.”

“We can defend ourselves, we’re not helpless,” Cassandra protested.

“I know that, but you don’t—you can’t even comprehend all that I’m going up against.” He capped Riptide and in a blink it was back into a pen. “Just, please, trust me. I know what I’m doing and I don’t want you guys in anymore of a risk than you already are, but—” Percy looked at Bruce. “If I need help, be that mortal evac or medics for the wounded or even for collateral clean up, would you come?”

“Of course,” Dick answered for Bruce who seemed to be staring a hole into the table in front of him.

Alfred (where had he been this whole time?) cleared his throat and handed Stephanie a pair of crutches, who grumbled and groaned as she stood up from the chair. “I believe that is all we’ll be able to handle for today as it is getting late, even for you all. Now, all of you, upstairs, time to rest and we’ll further discuss this in the morning.”

One by one they left the cave, Tim hesitant to leave Percy’s side, especially after revealing everything, but Alfred’s pointed stare from the elevators made his feet move of their own accord. By the time the commotion died down again, only Percy and Bruce were left at the table. They faced each other, but neither’s gaze meet the other and neither of them spoke for a bit. He had hands clasped together and help up to his mouth. He did that when he was deep in thought, when he was trying to plan a head to keep them all safe.

Percy knows about the contingencies he was in place for the Justice League and all its members. Knows how to take them down and has access to the lead vault that held their collection of kryptonite for when Superman decided to try and become God. There were even plans on how to take each member of their family down, what steps that needed to be followed and who to get to help. And Percy knows he wasn’t special, he wasn’t excluded from those plans either, but he knows that they were made with the mental image of a regular human Percy. Of the kid who didn’t have powers and only bat-level training.

Now he was a threat, or, an even bigger one than before. Percy had the blood of a god running through his veins and that meant that he was far stronger that most of his family. He could blow up a mountain, summon hurricanes, move the earth. Percy could lift the cave water and manipulate it to his will whenever he wanted. He was a threat level Bruce had never encountered before and now…now he was scared to know how far he’d go to subdue Percy.

He glanced up when Bruce stood from his chair. It was hard to decipher what it was Bruce was thinking, the furrowed eyebrows and hardened stare was that same one he wore all the time. And while Percy was pretty good in understanding the man’s various looks and grunts, he didn’t know how to react when Bruce sat down in the chair Jason had once been in.

“I won’t lie,” Bruce said. “I do not like you leading a war, nor do I like that you kept a threat like this a secret for this long.” Percy deflated under his words. “And I understand that this was not your choice and you have to do whatever you need to do to stop them, but I need to know why it chose you of all the other demigods? Were there no one else this could have been given to?”

Percy shook his head. “At the same time a prophecy was given, the big three swore an oath on the Styx to not have any more kids. Mostly because of how powerful they were, it was why World War 2 happened after all.” He fidgeted with his fingers. “But Zeus and Poseidon didn’t keep to their promise, and because the Styx can’t punish gods, their kids took the penalty.”

Bruce had an arm resting on the table, his hand covering his mouth as he absorbed the information. “Jason was the first, and the oath influenced the events that took his life. Thalia was after him, a daughter of Zeus, and she died right before she entered the camp to save one of my friends and my enemy, but we didn’t know that he’d betray us all at the time.”

“So then by default, you were tasked with the prophecy?” Percy nodded.

“There are two other children of the big three,” He said. “Both children of Hades, but the older of the two died on a quest last Christmas and the other is barely eleven. I don’t want this to fall on him, he’s too little and he’s already been through so much.”

“I can’t lose you, son” Bruce stood and pulled Percy up to stand before him. “I’ve already lost your brother and I am grateful he was able to make it back home, despite all the hiccups that happened to get him here.”

He hadn’t noticed how tall he was in comparison to Bruce now, his dad always seemed to tower over him like used to when he was a kid, but there wasn’t much of a difference between them. A few inches separated them from seeing eye to eye and Percy didn’t want the day to come where they were the same height to come. He still wanted to be able to bury his face into his dad’s chest when he hugged him, he be able to be picked up and carried like a child, to be told that everything was going to be okay.

And while now, Percy could rest his chin on Bruce’s shoulders when they hugged, the arms around him were still warm and strong like they always had been. “Just…be careful,” Bruce held him tight.

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise that.”

“I know,” he said, brushing down the hairs at the back of his head. “Of all people, I know.”

*********************************************

I had to write this, like, twice because the first draft didn’t fit right in the flow of the story anymore.

The only qualm I have with this is Percy’s rant about his injuries, idk it both does and doesn’t feel like something he would do. Like he’d do it to prove that what he’s gone through exists but he hates talking about himself 🤷‍♀️

Hope you liked it!!!

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#percy jackon and the olympians #dc comics #pjo x dc #batman fanfiction #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson #batman #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #stephanie brown #duke thomas

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shieldofiron · 2 days ago

Text

Vibe Check

Part 14: Strike First, Strike Hard, No Mercy

Also on Ao3 here and tumblr here

Steve can feel Robin getting bored with him. She’s been braiding some of her bangs together at the center of her forehead like a little tail.

The trouble is Steve just doesn’t know how to stop.

“And obviously, I can’t say anything! Billy’s dad was super awful to him and he’s only out to like three people. I don’t wanna break the gay guy bro code-”

“Gay guy bro code is so the name of a porn,” Robin says, tugging at the little useless thing until it came undone.

“Because I broke the whole like… circle of his trust by kissing him and turning into a creep!” Steve doesn’t even break stride in his pacing for her interruption, and Robin’s dorm was small, so pacing wasn’t easy.

“You’re not a creep, he already said that,” She mumbles.

He flops down next to her on the bed. “But like… even though I know I don’t have a shot. I keep thinking… do I have a shot?”

Robin opens her mouth.

“Because Billy’s really and honestly my best-” Steve cut out when Robin put her hand over his mouth. At least it smelled pleasantly of her shampoo not nasty, like Billy’s hand normally did.

Christ, Steve had missed him.

“There. Jeez. I can finally hear myself think,” Robin says. “Will you please chill out just a little?”

Steve has to think about it but he eventually nods.

“I am loathe to admit it because we did so much work in your ‘get over a straight crush’ twelve step program but…” she sighs, “this could mean you have a shot.”

“You think?”

“I mean, he’s gay. And you’re best friends. Weirdly touchy best friends. Clearly the kiss didn’t completely repulse him.” She nods once, decisively. “I don’t know about this Jason guy but he confided in you and came out to you. That’s huge.”

Steve nods eagerly, opening his mouth again. She quickly clamps her hand down over his mouth again.

“Now what we need to be thinking is not is this possible but how do we make this possible,” Robin shook her head.

Steve pries Robin’s hand free, “ok. How do we do that?”

She stands up with energy, pacing a little, her hair bouncing. Steve is really glad at this moment that Robin’s roommate was always at her boyfrien’s. He sits on Robin’s pink ruffled bedspread, toying nervously with one of the worn edges. Robin hated the thing, because it was a hand-me-down from her big sister, but Steve likes playing with it. Besides, it formed a contrast with the rest of Robin’s decor, and Robin herself. And there was something kind of charming about it. She turns to him, heavily lined eyes widening.

“Yeah?” He sits up straighter.

She slumps. “I’ve got nothing. This is uncharted territory. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I get a vibe from Billy. But I assumed it was latent bisexuality he was going to repress until he developed an ulcer in middle age after you two went on a bros fishing trip.”

Steve’s somach sinks and he deflates into the bed. “Oddly specific.”

“What I mean is this never happens. Normally straight crushes only end in heartbrak.” She shakes her head. “Do you have any idea how rare this is?”

“Obviously not, I only realized about myself like a few weeks ago.”

“Well, it’s a big deal. It also means I have no idea what to do.” She huffs. “I’ve failed you as a gay sensai.”

“No, no, you haven’t. I mean without you I probably would have developed that ulcer.” Steve stands and takes her hands. “You will always be my gay sensai.”

“You’re right. How could I have doubted myself?” She closes her eyes and then opens them, staring into Steve’s very soul. “Sorry, I got lost in the magnitude of it. He’s gay!”

Steve breaks into a giddy grin. “I know.”

“You have a shot.”

“You really think so?”

“Steve, for like two years I thought you and him were all shacked up. What can this Jason guy have that you don’t?” Robin’s blue gaze is so sincere it almost makes Steve want to cry.

“I dunno. He’s pretty hot. He’s like super buff with a great ass, and he’s kind of mouthy, like Billy, so…”

“How did you not know you were bi. It boggles the mind. But anyway, you’re hot stuff too, Mr. Thigh Kappa-”

“Theta Pi-”

“Whatever. Billy just needs a little nudge. You’re gonna be like Brittany and Santana.” Robin’s nodding with herself like she’s agreeing with something.

“Who?”

“Oh my sweet summer child. It’s like… friends to lovers, ok? We just have to show you in a new light,” She waves a hand over Steve’s t-shirt and sweatshorts. “Make him see you as more than a friend.”

“I did kiss him,” Steve reminds her, stepping back a little because the eye contact was getting a bit too much.

“Exactly. We’re off to a great start. Now he knows you’re bi, he’s already seeing you in a new way. The time to strike is now!”

“Okay,” Steve nods, then shakes his head then nods again. “But what if Jason likes him back?”

“Then we hope you’ve already gotten Billy’s attention,” She claps her hands together. “That’s why we need to move fast. Strike while the iron is hot. Billy said he wanted to break Jason and his boyfriend up, right?”

“Right.”

“So I say, you try and get them all out together so you can gague how Jason feels about Billy.” Robin says.

“And the boyfriend too. Maybe it’ll actually work in my favor.”

Robin grins. “Yes, exactly. Phase 1: scope out the enemy. After that we move on to, Phase 2-”

“Seduction.” Steve looks down at his shoes. “Damn, you really are the sensai.”

“I know, I’m like cobra kai over here. What is it? Punch fast, no breaks, no mercy.” Robin’s head is bobbing like a bobblehead. “This can work.”

Steve beams, “this can work.

“Totally. And besides I’m pretty sure making moves on your friends is like actually the gay guy bro code.”

“Wait, really?”

Robin sighs, rolling her eyes dramatically. “This is why I wanted you to go to a gay bar. Hookup culture. You’re basing all your gay knowledge on like… homoerotic moments on Friday Night Lights.”

“But I don’t want to just hook up with him. I wanna like… date him.” Steve looked at his hands. “Like I wanna take him out and bring him flowers.”

She squints at him, “ok, well, you do that to a closeted guy at your own risk, ok?”

“What do you mean?”

She looks at her poster of 1971’s Klute like she’s praying to Jane Fonda to help her though this. “Like you are right that you have to step a little careful. Billy just came out to you and it sounds like you can’t exactly show up with flowers to the frat house without him probably punching you.”

Steve makes a stifled sound. “I wou- the flowers are more of a metaphor. I mean I don’t just want to be a hookup.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve heard many times about how you want to stand in the thunderstorm and let it drown you. And so had everyone else in editing 102.” She nods, pacing a few steps and rubbing her fuzzy green socks into the flat dorm carpet.

Steve squirms a little, turning away and looking sightlessly at the things on Robin’s desk. “No, that wasn’t about Billy-”

“Shh… a plan is forming.” He looks, and she’s holding a hand up. “How did you and Nancy start dating?”

“I flirted with her at a few parties, and we hooked up. And then I put on my charm,” Steve starts, jolting when Robin grabs his arm.

“And Heidi from Winter’s lecture? Didn’t you say you dated?”

Steve scratches his temple. “We hooked up when a couple of us went to see In the Mood for Love. And then we started texting, and I put on the charm… but, I-”

“Exactly. Ok. Ok. Here’s the plan.” Robin tugs on his arm until they’re both flopped on the bed. “You agree to help with the Jason thing, scope everything out. And then while we’re there, just… like make out with someone. With Jason if you can.”

“What? In front of Billy?”

“Yes, Grandma. Listen. I’ll be there, I’ll watch Billy’s reaction. But it will do two things. First, Billy’s gonna see that you’re open to hooking up. So the kiss won’t seem so much like a repressed love confession.”

Steve can only shrug, because it totally was.

“And then you can start hooking up with Billy,” She smiles, even as she’s digging her blue fingernails into his arm.

Steve’s face is getting hot and his stomach flip flops. “But I don’t want him to get the-”

“Wrong idea, I know. But if you start with the lovey dovey confession and Jason’s around he’ll fully freak and think you both have to like come out to the house and be together right away. How do you think he’s gonna react to that?”

“Ok, that’s fair.” Steve wasn’t sure if he wanted to hope but his heart rose in his chest regardless.

“Once you’re hooking up you can just slowwwwly put on the charm. Ease him into it,” Robin circles a hand in the air. “And then you can find out the best ways to sneak around, and figure it out and then oopsie it’s been months and Jason? Who’s that?”

Steve bites his lip, nodding slightly.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Just nervous. What if Billy doesn’t fall for my charm? He knows what it looks like.”

“Duh. You dazzle him with your dick, Steve.”

“But I’ve never hooked up with a guy!” Steve cries.

“That’s why a friend would be a perfect first hook up. Trust me. He won’t know what’s happening. You’ll be like I dunno how teach me how to give a blowjob. We’ll distract him with your wiles,” She flings her arm towards Steve’s body with all the enthusiasm as if she was pointing at a dead spider.

Steve kneeded his lip between his teeth. He should take more time to think it through. But his head swirled with ‘what if’s,’ while his heart was storming with wild runaway wishes and hopes. He could turn hooking up into a relationship. He knew he could.

But the stakes had just never been so high before.

Robin nods like she can read his mind. It always feels like she can. “Ask him to go out. Baby steps. And don’t worry, your gay sensai will be with you every step of the way.”

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