#zero neck pillows cause the flight is an hour and a half

[calkale]

airport scavenger hunt:

luggage cart being driven around the runway

charger in between the seats

star bucks

plane fueling up

person wearing a neck pillow

a lost item on the ground (can be anything)

overpriced bottled water

souvenir shop

free space

mads i appreciate this so much but this airport is two rooms, theres one plane and i work here 💀

[elekinetic]

Sending u asks for plane.

Okay, imagine the party take a trip together and they have to fly.

How does the plane ride go? Like does anyone have plane anxiety, do they eat way too many snacks, etc.

um. we don’t have to talk about how you sent this the LAST time i was on a plane.

OKAY so sticking w my personal headcanon that karen and hopper negotiate government payouts to all of the kids (full college rides, trusts, etc) as reparations for the utter bullshit they’ve been put through (and in exchange for their silence), i think the party takes a group vacation after they graduate high school. their parents are super hesitant to let them out of their sights, but they deserve some fun and dustin has an aunt in florida so it’s not even like they’re gonna be all alone, okay?

getting to indianapolis from hawkins just to get to the airport is a nightmare. the party had a sleepover in the wheelers’ basement so that they could just get up and go the next day, but one crazy movie marathon and two bottles of cheap sparkling wine nancy slipped them later, it is a struggle to pull their asses out of bed. the party has never been particularly punctual, so maybe it takes holly shouting down the stairs and dustin whacking his friends with pillows for them to get a move on. they have to be at the airport in two and a half hours, and it’s a three hour drive. well, usually. lucas climbs in the driver seat of the wheelers’ station wagon (mike: “shouldn’t i drive? it’s my car!” everyone: “NO.”) and races down the indiana highway, pushing 95 in a 70. it’s fine! he’s a great driver, really, and there’s no one out cause it’s five am (jesus christ) and listen as long as NO ONE tells their parents, it’s fine. el insists they blast the radio, and max — who basically pushed mike down the stairs so she could call shotgun (that’s not what happened, asshole! it totally was! guys, c’mon. what? he started it!) — indulges her ever madonna loving whim. will smiles and grooves along while dustin and mike white knuckle grip their seats.

they pull up to the airport and get their luggage checked with like, ten minutes to spare. they get settled into their seats with a sigh of relief, way in the back of the plane. they all sit on the same side of the plane, two sets of three seats right in front of each other. el, max, and lucas sit in the front, with will, mike, and dustin behind them. dustin immediately pulls out a blanket, pillow, sleep mask, and earplugs (“you’re laughing now, but i’m gonna sleep like a goddamn baby while you fuckers whine about neck pain all week.”) and promptly passes out. el and max quiz answers in a teen beat magazine she picked up from a newsstand (“is that really necessary? we’re already late!” el, gravely: “it is the most necessary.”) max idly curls her hand around lucas’ as he flips through an old comic.

will tries to doodle random passengers on the plane, but mike is freaking the fuck out and they haven’t even taken off yet. so, will shuts his sketchbook, props his chin up on his elbow, and asks mike what he thinks of this new campaign concept he heard about. mike starts rambling about how yeah sure, reintroducing mirakil is a cool concept but his motivation makes ZERO sense now that his family is dead and c’mon, lipiria is RIGHT THER—-hey! [max shoves her seat back at the same time dustin elbows him.] he gets so wrapped up in his spiel that he doesn’t even realize they’ve taken off til they’re a quarter into their flight. he’s still super anxious and gets up like three times to walk around the aisle before will makes them switch seats. mike can’t stop bouncing his leg, and his knee is pressed right up against the seat in front of him (because the leg room on this plane is abysmal, and he made sure to let everyone know that when they first sat down). el pops up and turns back to him:

“i understand why you are upset. we are in a very big metal box and are very high up. it does not make sense why we are not falling to our deaths.”

“um, el, i don’t know if that’s helping him—“

“i make things move with my mind, mike. that does not make sense. stop kicking my seat,” she huffs, and plops back down to her seat. mike goes red. will stifles a laugh. max giggles from where she was seemingly asleep on lucas’ shoulder, who’s eyes are twisted shut, asleep.

dustin wakes up just as they touch down in florida. he does not hesitate to share his frustration that they did not save ANY airline peanuts for him. (he refuses to hear them when they tell him that the peanuts weren’t even that good, or when they point out that he has a peanut allergy.)

[aurora-nuova]

Rude Love

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandom: Naruto  

Universe: Modern AU

Relationships:

Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara (main)

Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito (side)

Characters: Senju Tobirama, Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Izuna, Senju Hashirama, Senju Itama, Uzumaki Mito

@madatobiweek Week 4: There was only one bed OR Not realizing they are already dating

Summary: 

Summer sun, cool waves, a beautiful beach. Nothing could go wrong on this long awaited, blessed holiday to the sea, right? W r o n g!

Madara should’ve just pushed his best friend off of that cliff they had been playing on as kids when he had the chance.

Read on AO3

————————————————————————

Chapter 01: Something new

Madara startled awake with a curse on his lips when a cheering Hashirama‘s elbow hit the pillow his head had been resting upon but momentarily got distracted by a female speaker announcement.

“—and gentleman, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position and your seatbelt is securely fastened—”

Ah, apparently it was time for their airplane to land. And surely, looking out of the window confirmed it as no clouds were greeting him. Instead, the ground was rapidly closing in on them. 

Turning his head away from the window, he threw Mito—who was sitting on Hashirama‘s right— a tired but bemused look that she promptly returned when her husband started making quiet hooting noises at the bumpy arrival at their destination.

What a child, he thought fondly as he acknowledged a warm feeling making its way through his body. Though such mushy thoughts were only allowed in the privacy of his mind and were never to be discussed out loud or lest he got made fun of by Izuna or his other siblings.

Looking at his best friend, he sometimes wished he had half as much, well, or maybe only a third of his positivity. At least on his good days.

Though, on second thought, it sounded rather exhausting.

Maybe his slightly more realistic approach to life wasn‘t so bad after all, he mused as said best friend turned around to him with a beaming smile, not even having noticed that he had been the cause of his interrupted sleep in his glee. Returning a sleepy smile, he realized that Hashirama probably was positive enough for both of them. Or rather both of their close families, if he were to be honest.

It still amused him to this day that no sane person would expect this child of a man to be a renowned paediatrician but sometimes people were apparently wrong. Very wrong.

Because jokes aside, fortunately, Hashirama indeed could be serious when his patients and their parents trusted him with the children’s life. And doing so, he tended to them with unmatched enthusiasm and passion.

So all was good, he guessed.

Stretching his stiff muscles through a yawn, he noticed familiar tresses of long, dark hair sticking out from between the gap in the seats in front of him. Zeroing in on it with a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips, he nimbly stuck his hand through the gap to pull one of the bigger chunks of hair, only to immediately receive a satisfyingly high pitched yelp.

“OUCH! You ass!” Izuna screeched turning his head back around to him and hastily reclaimed all of his hair with a scowl, making Madara huff in amusement.

“Oh please, stop being such a drama quee-” the older of the two started retorting when suddenly his younger brother turned around in his seat somewhat—seatbelt still fastened, making the endeavour pretty awkward looking as he smushed his face between the backrests to make a grab for Madara’s own hair.

“No!” he groused out, leaning away from the squiggly hand. “Stop!”

“Payback‘s a bitch, Nii-san!” the younger Uchiha snarked back, voice muffled by the seat and continued to make grabs for his hair that Madara defended by slapping his grabby hands away.

“Children, please,” Mito‘s exasperated voice suddenly broke through their argument, making both of them stop—Madara crossing his arms while Izuna turned back around and untangled himself from the space between the two seats, arm almost getting stuck in the process.

“I‘m not a child, he is!” Izuna grumbled out as he was facing the right way again, missing the red head‘s amused but quiet laugh.

Wondering why the biggest child of them all hadn‘t joined them in their squabbling and actually kept quiet for once, the Uchiha looked back at Hashirama, noticing that he too had an arm moving, but in the right gap between the seats in front of himself. The Uchiha made a confused sound and nudged the taller man who then looked at him with a questioning smile.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to wake up Tobi and Itama, I saw them asleep when I left for the bathroom a few minutes ago,” the brunette answered with a sunny smile as the Uchiha hummed in acknowledgement as people around them started to get their luggage from the overhead stowage spaces to leave the plane.

Finally exiting the airport‘s sliding doors with their heavy luggage to walk into a metaphorical wall of humidity as the sun tried to roast them alive only made Madara close his eyes in misery. The heat was so much worse than he had anticipated.

Great

To be completely honest, he hadn‘t even wanted to come here in the first place, would have instead preferred a milder, more enjoyable weather for his long-awaited vacation but unfortunately, he had lost in the poll their two families had held to determine what this trip‘s destination would be as everyone except Itama and him had voted for this dreaded hot climate as their travel destination.

Surprisingly even Tobirama—currently dressed in long pants with a long-sleeved sweatshirt‘s hood and a pair of sunglasses covering his face—had wanted to come here.

Whatever, he would make the best of this holiday.

As it was, unfortunately, not all of their siblings had been able to come with them due to scheduling difficulties. However, they had already agreed on another trip in winter when hopefully their schedules would align a bit more smoothly with much more desirable weather, at least for him.

He already looked forward to it.

Something he could live without though, was the planning and scheduling part as arranging things for the six of them had been a logistical nightmare already. What with Itama having to hand his last thesis in the day before while Izuna and Tobirama respectively had to write their exams a few hours before their flight took off.

He himself probably wouldn’t even have been able to take time off on such short notice if his position at work as detective hadn‘t been so high and he himself and his good reputation hadn’t been so well regarded amongst their ranks and—no, he was joking. In reality he still had a few open favours with his boss and promptly used one of them to be able to be here with his family and friends when Hashirama had texted him the booking confirmation.

His boss obviously hadn‘t been too happy. But after Madara had helped out countless of times, sacrificing his free time again and again when needed, raked in so many extra hours, that he had accumulated a lot of those favours. And just to be on the safe side, had tied all loose ends at work in preparation which thankfully had swayed the man to agree in the end.

The Uchiha briefly wondered how Obito and his fellow colleagues were doing before Izuna chatting him up caught his attention.

Next thing he knew, they were leaving their rented cars parked outside an Italian restaurant and taking their seats around a big but crammed table as Hashirama had rejected the friendly personnel’s offer to push two tables together because apparently he wanted to cuddle in this inhumane heat or who knew why tree brain hadn‘t wanted the second table because Madara for sure didn‘t.

Smushed between Izuna and Hashirama, he could already feel the sweat run down his back as he pushed his sunglasses atop his head, tangling up a few strands of hair that he couldn’t care less about at the moment in the process.

“Get anything you want, it‘s on me to celebrate the end of the semester for our three youngest and of course, the start of our amazing holidays together!“ his best friend exclaimed when everyone had received their beverages and toasted all of them, resulting in clinking of glass and various intonations of gratitude amongst them.

After Madara downed his glass in one go and lowered it back on the table with a loud clink, he rummaged through his pockets to find a godforsaken hair tie. His hair was already uncomfortably sticking to the back of his neck. Frowning, he gave up when he came up empty.

Hashirama probably didn‘t have one on hand, as he only tied it for work and Mito used hair pins, which left him with only Izuna who was typing away on one of his social media accounts. Leaning over, he saw a snapshot out of the airplane window.

“Pretty picture.”

Izuna immediately shot him a dubious look.

“Okay. What do you want?” his younger brother asked with an expectant look on his face.

“Can‘t I compliment you without wanting anything?” he asked bemused.

“Oh please,” the other huffed out.

“Alright, whatever. Do you have a hair tie?”

Izuna took a terribly amused look at his horribly mussed up hair. The stupid humidity wasn‘t doing the older Uchiha any favours, making his usually wild hair poof up and stick out in an even crazier mess than usual. He was well aware but the brat didn‘t even try to stifle his derisive snort.

“Yes, but know that this will cost you a third of your dessert,” the little shit haughtily replied as he took a tie out of a bag between them.

“A fifth and you have yourself a deal,” Madara huffed, holding his hand out.

“A fourth and you have to order something I actually like,” Izuna countered, holding out the desired hair tie just out of reach.

“Deal,” he heaved out with a heavy sigh, accepting the cargo and tying up his hair into a messy ponytail, immediate relief flooding him, as the slightly less warm air of the ceiling fan caressed the back of his neck. Much better.

Madara shot his greedy brother and his mostly immaculate hair an annoyed look, when the other happily turned back to continue typing away on his smartphone.

He would need to steal whatever the little shit had used to wrestle his own mane into submission out of his luggage and use it on his hair tomorrow when the other inevitably would still be snoozing away the morning, since he liked to sleep in.

They had the same hair structure, after all, but he wasn‘t willing to pay the unreasonably high price his sibling surely would come up with as soon as he asked him about the product he must‘ve been using to tame their family brand of crazy hair.

Under no circumstances would he walk around like some caveman after today, though.

Right now everyone was still tired and mussed up from their flight, even elegant Mito, so his crazier than usual hair wouldn‘t be noticed too badly.

But starting tomorrow, that excuse wouldn‘t fly anymore, as everyone would attempt to look presentable for the undoubtedly many pictures Hashirama and Izuna would take in the span of their holidays. And seriously, latter didn‘t need even more blackmailing material, as he already had more than enough of that stowed away already.

But more importantly, tomorrow Tobirama wouldn‘t be so exhausted anymore that his head would look like it was ready to loll onto the table.

Seriously, the poor guy looked ready to fall off the chair any minute if it weren‘t for Itama on his left, holding him up in an embrace while happily chatting with him and Izuna squished in on his right, forcing him into a somewhat upright position.

The younger Senju seemed way too tired to even notice much today, belatedly reacting to any verbal or physical stimuli as far as he had seen.

In fact, the exhausted albino probably couldn’t wait until they finished their food and finally drove to the hotel so he could catch up on all of that lost sleep tonight. However, that also meant that the albino‘s sharp eyes would be scrutinizing and analyzing everyone and everything starting with tomorrow, so he needed to look presentable if not a bit nicer than usual at least.

Feeling eyes bore into the side of his head, he inwardly startled at being caught staring, as his eyes slid back over to Izuna who was wiggling his eyebrows and pursing his lips at him in an imitation of a kiss.

“Shut up!” he quietly hissed and shoved at him, hoping no one had noticed the idiot.

“But I‘m not saying anything!” the brat cackled, as he bumped into an unresponsive Tobirama next to him, subsequently rattling Itama who shot them a quick bemused but confused look.

“Just stop it, you ass,” he grumbled out, refraining from hitting his younger brother upside the head to avoid any additional spotlight from the chatting couple by his side to keep the cause of the start of the situation under wraps.

There was no need for Izuna to spout lies about him ogling the light haired man like he had a crush on him or something similarly stupid. Definitely lies. Shut up.

He avoided looking in the albino‘s direction for the rest of their duration at the restaurant, even when Izuna stole more than a fourth of his dessert.

But apparently things were still going too smoothly and the universe wanted to punish him for whatever sins he had accumulated over his life at once because right before they entered their hotel to check in, Hashirama abruptly planted his feet on the searing hot concrete under a palm tree and waved them over.

Oh god, what would this be about?

Judging by the massive grin on his face, it couldn‘t be anything good.

When everyone was situated around him, Hashirama clapped his hands.

“Alright, since we always, well, almost! Since we almost always do the same room distributions, I came up with an idea this time,” he revealed giddily.

“Wait, what?” Madara exclaimed confused as the taller man started rummaging in his pant pocket.

“We‘re drawing straws!“ the idiot exclaimed joyously as he held out a fist of sticks, receiving mixed reactions from everyone around him.

“Please tell me you‘re not serious?“ the oldest Uchiha replied with a sinking feeling.

“Why not?“

“Mito, your wife, is the only female in this group?“ he tried reasoning to no avail.

“Oh yes, that‘s why we‘re sharing a room!“ the stupid tree answered him cheerfully.

And it was that moment that Madara actually took a look at the sticks in his hand and noticed that there were only four of them. Opening his mouth, Hashirama immediately interrupted him.

“Because we booked on such short notice, they only had one room with two single beds, the other two are double beds. Mito and I will take one of those but there‘s still the question of who will get the other two rooms each,“ the older Senju explained with a smile.

“Still, it doesn‘t make any sense why we should draw lots in the first place. I don’t care in what kind of bed I sleep in with Izuna,“ Madara said scowling as he crossed his arms.

“But Itama and Izuna want to try something new and right now you’re the only one not agreeing,” the brunette said pouting.

“You didn’t even give me a heads up— Wait, what? Since when does snowflake agree to your stupid ideas?” he asked, throwing the two Senju brothers in question a confused look. One of them half asleep and not even listening, the other one pouting down at him.

After all, out of the siblings Tobirama was the only one stopping Hashirama’s mischief on a daily basis when things looked like they would get out of hand while the two younger ones loved to indulge in their eldest brother’s silly antics.

“Anija asked him on our way to the airport,” Itama helpfully supplied, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Do you really think that‘s fair? Snowflake has been closer to a walking zombie than a human being!“ he groused out, scowl intensifying.

Tobirama very belatedly pursed his lips in a pout and softly furrowed his brows but didn‘t react any further, making the older Uchiha feel all sorts of fuzzy and mushy things. God no. Trying to not show any emotion besides annoyance on his face was getting harder by the second.

“No offence, but that’s a very underhanded tactic for you, Hashirama. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days,” the older Uchiha accused to hammer in his point.

“But that’s the only way he agreed for once,” the older man admitted with a chuckle.

He zeroed in on Izuna when he too chuckled.

“And since when do you like trying out new things?” Madara accused his sibling.

“Excuse you! I try new things all the time and you would know that if you followed my social media accounts like you said you would!” the younger Uchiha answered scandalized with furrowed brows.

The older Uchiha groaned. Not this again.

“Is it too much to want some fun on this vacation?” Hashirama asked with one of his better renditions of a puppy look directed at him while Tobirama slinked off to sit down next to Mito on a bench not far from them.

Huffing, he shuffled his feet, looking around and tried to think of a way out of this.

Izuna would be his best bet of course. But if he had to share a room with Itama, things would probably get awkward pretty fast as they never had spent time on their own until now. However, Tobirama would be an even worse pick. Not because he had anything against the younger man but because of other things that he didn’t want to think about at the moment.

No, he wouldn’t play Hashirama’s stupid games this time. Why should he? Especially when his idiotic friend easily had taken himself out of the equation. Unfair. He was here to relax and enjoy himself.

Having decided against his best friend’s plea, he looked back to said friend only to freeze at the triumphant look on his face.

Oh no.

“What?”

“Have you forgotten? You owe me!” the idiot exclaimed with a wry grin.

Now it was his turn to furrow his eyebrows in incomprehension.

“You lost that bet at our last poker evening weeks ago,” the tan man replied giddily.

Madara’s eyes widened. He was right but he wouldn’t, would he?

“Are you seriously going to waste it on something like that? Hashirama, you wouldn’t, right?” he asked, rubbing his forehead to soothe his growing headache with a grimace.

He knew he was doomed, when three grinning faces met his.

“I absolutely would and I am henceforth officially claiming the favour you owe me!” the childish tree trunk of a man exclaimed laughing in glee, hands on his hips.

Suppressing another groan, Madara felt more sweat trickle down his back. Honestly, he could’ve done worse, he guessed. Hashirama could’ve used the favour to send him off to do much more horrible or embarrassing things. This was absolutely not ideal but whatever. What were the odds of him having to share a room with Tobirama, after all? Two to one against it, not bad at all. And he surely could make it work with Itama, too.

Being already fed up with the situation and the sun searing what felt like holes into his back, he decided that he didn’t care anymore as long as they could go inside soon. Preferably right this instant.

“Fine,” he conceded defeated, receiving surprised looks at his unusually short lived refusal and hooting from Hashirama.

“Alright, youngest first! There’s two short and two long ones,” the excited man exclaimed, holding out his hand with the sticks to Itama after he had shuffled them behind his back. “Don’t reveal them until everyone has a stick!”

When it finally was Madara’s turn, he didn’t have much choice but to accept the remaining stick as the oldest of the four.

“Reveal your sticks on the count of three! One, two, three!” Hashirama exclaimed excited.

Madara blanched when all of them unfurled their fists to showcase each of their picks. Had he seriously ended up with one of the short sticks? Wait, if the other two had the two long ones, that meant that Tobirama and he—

Hashirama clapped him on the shoulder with a huff of laughter.

“Looks like you and Tobi share a room!”

“Wha—”

“Okay, now I need those back and the winner team picks one of two to decide who the winner of the room with the two single beds is,” the older Senju exclaimed.

When Itama picked the longer stick, Madara despaired internally.

How could his luck be this bad? Had he seriously just lost two times in a row? Also wasn’t the looser supposed to get to pick first and—

Wait.

Oh no.

His eyes widened and he paled even more when suddenly the realization hit him that he had to share a double bed with his cru- Tobirama for the upcoming two weeks here.

He was doomed.

Suddenly he didn’t even feel warm anymore.

[princelockedinatower]

Slow Jazz

**Fluff without plot**

like porn without plot but cute and PG and gay

Also I did 0 editing or revising cause yolo, hope you guys enjoy :)

Soft silk sheets. A mini spurge courtesy of my last trip to target. Everytime I go I swear to myself I’ll only get the thing I went there for, and everytime I come out with a leather bound journal, pack of erasers, pajamas or something christmas related among a cart full of little knick nacks and cool jizmabobs. 

I stretch out, flopping over onto my back as I do and listen to the songbirds outside the window, their nice singing threatening to lure me back to sleep. For a few moments I do, feeling at peace despite the growing need to get to up for the day.

“Morning Adrian,” my husbands gruff though gentle voice awakes me. Shifting to half sit up I see him standing at the door, red hair messy, wearing only sweatpants, a gold ring around his finger with two cups of coffee in his hands “Coffee?” he asks lifting up a cup.

I give a lazy smile and nod, sitting up against the headboard as he crosses the room and carefully gets on the bed. After handing me my cup he cuddles up to me with his head on my shoulder even though he’s the taller one. 

I sigh smiling, letting my eyes wonder over the room, there’s a picture of us on our wedding day, both in suits, in a cheap dollar store frame on the dresser, clothes spilling out of it as normal. Mismatched curtains on mismatching curtain rods pulled back to let the early morning sun in to rest on the rugs covering our small bedroom. Nothing’s too expensive, not even the china passed down to us that was bought at a gas station way back when but everything’s nice, warm and cozy.

“Adam?” I say, pausing to take a sip of my coffee “Do you like how we live?” 

Adam looks up at me and grins, a tooth missing “I wouldn’t change a thing,”

I smile, moving to press a kiss to his lips, the bitter taste of coffee on him. 

I pull away, getting off our bed and crossing over to our dresser “We should probably open the clinic soon,” I say digging through our shirts drawer looking for a specific one “What time is it actually?” I ask.

Adam suffles on the bed for his phone as I find the lime green scrub shirt I was looking for that brings out my darker green eyes “Eight twenty-six, we’ve got thirty-two minets,” he answers bolting up from our bed to join me in search of clothes. 

Adam’s still searching for pants when I start fussing over my long brown wavy hair in the bathroom mirror. I get it tamed as he asks “Where are my black and red scrubs?” 

I walk over to a basket of clean laundry and after digging for a millisecond I pull out the matching shirt and pants “You mean these?” I chuckle and grab my white doctors coat. He laughs, grabbing them from me and shoves them on. 

Together we dash down the flight of stairs to the backroom of our clinic we own and live above. Bustling out into the waiting area I see a few patients waiting and our receptionist, Clark talking on the phone. 

Upon seeing us he puts whoever was on the line on hold and hands me a clipboard “Dr. Devorack Room 1 is waiting for you,” he pauses reaching for another clipboard and giving it to Adam “Nurse Adam Room 3 is the Kylands, they’re here for their immunizations.” 

Clark goes back to the phone as Adam and I go off to do our duties. Before I slip into the first room I catch Adam’s eye and blow him a kiss, he smirks and rolls his eyes as I slip into the room. 

I smile gently at the small kid and mom who both look worse for wear. The kid looks about to be about six and the mom about mid thirties, both extremely tired and the kid has a few tears running down his cheeks, more coming whenever he swallows. 

“Hi, I’m Dr. Devorack,” I say sitting in the swivel chair at the desk “What seems to be the problem?” 

The mom rubs her eyes and tells me her son’s throat really hurts to the point he hasn’t eaten yet today. I nod and ask the kid to hop up the table while I grab a tongue stick. 

Gently I feel his throat which is swollen and hot then ask him to say “aww” for me. Little white dots line his throat and I decide to take his temperature. It reads 38.1*C and I start typing in my computer “Your son has a case of Strep Throat, so I’m going to give you a precription to give to him for ten days,” I say printing off the required sheet “Make sure he takes all ten days or the infection might come back.” 

She nods thanking me, visibly relieved as I stand and get the door for them. A warm feeling spreads from my chest as I smile, something about helping people makes me feel this way. Grabbing the clipboard I head back to the waiting room with the mom and kid. 

Clark already has another clipboard for me when I reach his desk and I let myself fall into the familiar routine of helping patients all day long, only stopping for a quick lunch with Adam, Clark and our other nurse Natasha. 

Closing time rolls around at five, Clark and Natasha going home before I finish with my last patient of the day, Adam doing some paperwork while he waits for me.

I wasn’t going to take them honestly, they came in on the dot and Clark was already out the door with Natasha on his heels. I can’t blame them, it was friday night and they were both off tomorrow. 

What changed my mind was the dad’s dirty work clothes like he came directly from work, the younger daughters pained expression and the older kid’s school workbook as she was writing in it while walking. She even bumped into the reception desk she was so focused. 

So I took them into an exam room and introducing myself the daughters homework caught my eye as she sat down to work on it “What class is that for?” 

“Health Sciences,” she answers without looking up “It’s a basic intro to the medical field, right now we’re working on identifying basic long term illnesses and before that common bacterial and viral infections.” 

I nod finding it pretty cool they offered classes like that in highschool “Want a little hands on experience?” I ask disregarding the fact it would make this a lot longer.

She looks up at that and stares a little “Uh, yah that’d be awesome,” she says standing up and I motion for her to take the lead with her little sister up on the table. 

She lets a nervous laugh out before asking what the problem is to her little sister. She complains about her ear hurting and tugs at it. The older sister nods and asks her if she’s had any headaches, trouble hearing or balancing and a few other symptoms. 

After her little sister answers she turns to me and asks if I can take her temperature and look in her ear. I agree with a grin, knowing she’s doing a pretty good job for a teen with zero medical training. 

“Her temperature’s thirty-eight point six and the inside of her ear is red and inflamed,” I tell her, tossing the little earpiece in the trash “Diagnosis and recommended treatment?” I ask sitting at the desk. 

She smiles shyly “Ear infection, probably AOM so I’d write a prescription but wait a day or two to see if it gets better on it’s own,” 

I nod my head “I concur with your diagnosis and treatment,” I say writing out a prescription then getting the door “Keep studying kid you’re headed places,” I say as she walks by. 

She beams and practically skips out the door before I lock it for the night. 

I head up stairs into the living room, the smell of salmon hitting me as I walk past the grey couch with it’s peculiar pillows and tables with scattered candles and pictures on them to the kitchen. 

Adam stands at the white counter mixing a salad, his back to me as I walk up and snake my arms around him. He chuckles but continues mixing as I rest my head on his shoulder, given I have to go up on my toes to do that. I hum into his ear “They’re doing a Midsummer’s Dream tomorrow at the live theatre,”

“Oh?” he says moving the bowl away before turning to face me, letting his hands trail up my sides then back down to my back “That sounds nice.” 

I press against him letting my head rest on his chest, the scent of his cologne making me sigh “We should make it a date, and get dressed up for it,” I say nuzzling further into him “Maybe even go out for dinner,”

“Let’s do that,” he says lightly pushing me so he can look at me “Spaghetti Factory for dinner?” he asks, the timer for the fish going off.

I nod and cross the kitchen to grab plates and cutlery, Adam pulling the fish out of the oven. He plates our meals meticulously for fifteen minets as I watch him, my stomach nagging at me to just grab the plate and eat. I push the thought out of my mind because I know Adam loves doing this, as evident by his grin. 

We end up eating in the kitchen, me up on a counter and Adam cross legged on the floor, talking about how Romeo and Juliet could have turned out if Romeo had been in love with Tibalt. The conversation eventually lead to us making dick jokes and our sides hurt from laughing too much we couldn’t breathe. 

Coming down from our fit of laughter we catch each other's eyes and smile.

“Follow me,” Adam says softly getting to his feet and slipping his hands in mine. I do as he asks, getting down and letting him lead me into the living room bathed in a dusty orange light from the setting sun. He lets my hands go in the middle of the empty floor and walks over to the old record player we have. 

Choosing a disc he places the needle on it and a slow jazz song plays as he wraps his arms around my waist and I reach mine up to wrap around his neck. We sway to the music for what feels like hours and I can’t help but believe I’m the happiest man alive.