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yellowfunnybunny · 2 days ago

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Ashes

Neon war paint pt 3

pt 2 here

pt 1 here

WARNING! Explicit RPF!

TRIGGER WARNING This chapter presents grief and generic adult themed content, if that triggers you in any way please don't read.

Summary: Despite all the adventures he got to live in this past year, the pain still hurt like the first day. It made him miserable to think he would never recover from this. That not even someone extraordinary like Carlotta could wipe away his shame.

CW: 18+!, rpf, grief, smut, explicit, mature themes, seriously if you are a minor gtfo.

Words: 7,1 k

Ashes

Spending the Eurovision 2025 week together was Lotte's idea: no need to waste time scrolling on social media and being reminded for five days in a row what could have been.

Joost had been reached already for weeks by journalists asking if he had anything to comment about not being called back to participate this year. Despite the trail proving him innocent. Despite Avotros promising not to leave him alone in this.

He didn’t have any comment, he would answer back arshly to those who unfortunately found his private number and called.

He plopped in the backseat of the driver and let the ride lull him back to his nap. Guidonia was a small city about forty minutes out of Rome and, to get there from the airport, one would have to survive the rough drive in the middle of the eternal city, passing in front some of the most beautiful monuments in the world. He lowered his hoodie on his eyes and made himself comfortable for a nap. It wasn't his first time there, or his second. He could skip watching the Colosseum from the window for once.

Flights made him slightly nauseous, but long-distance relationships called for some extra effort. Overall, it was fun to jump on a plane on every occasion to surprise one another at an event or festival, spending some hours feeling like a normal couple while dancing in each other arms. The chosen city treated like a playground, an unconsidered mix of love and anarchy: endless bills at hotels for room service; renowned clubs and expensive wine lists; selected jewels; high fashion shopping. Sleepless nights feeding off each other's bodies, pushing back the consciousness that time together was limited.

They were nothing but a ticking bomb. That sparkle, ignited with a first “welcome back” kiss, burned quickly the oxygen out of their lungs and rationality from their brains. All too quickly.

Leaving them frustrated and with their fists full of ashes.

tick-tock

The very last hours would be a frenzy mess of moans and bedsheets. Lying in bed, with both his hands dipped in her hair and his lips just above her mouth, Joost would watch Lottie whimper under his weight as he moved his length inside of her. Deliciously slowly and deep. The sting of her nails clasped on his shoulders while arching her hips to meet his thrusts. Pressing his forehead to hers, looking for a connection that was more than physical, his begs would go on and on. Circling back, like a mantra: please don’t go, just stay, you are perfect , we are just made for this, just stay, say you’ll stay...

His needy cries nourishing the most selfish part of herself and made her head spin with pleasure. She heard her own voice agree with him over and over and over.

At least until the following morning, when Joost would inevitably wake up in an empty bed.

boom

"Sir, we will be there in 10 minutes”

Joost was snapped out of his thoughts but kept his eyes still closed, nodding at the driver to let him know he heard him. With a soft grunt, he stretched his muscles to wake up.

The driver got his luggage out of the trunk and Joost paused for just a moment to enjoy the fresh aircon of the car before, inevitably, having to step outside. The heat of southern Italy was unforgivable, even if it was not yet officially summer. The sun was peaking in the sky and the air was humid. Letting out a puff of exhaustion from the long travel day, Joost pulled his hoodie from his head and wrapped it around his waist. He collected the bag from the driver and thanked him before turning to face what would been his house for the next week.

"Hello, stranger” Lottie's voice welcomed him even before his eyes focused on her.

Her smile was full and excited as she wrapped her tanned arms around his neck and planted a soft kiss on his lips. He let out a breath and hugged her waist tightly with an arm. She tried to get his luggage from his hands, but he pulled it back, wrapping his own hand around hers instead and guiding it to his mouth to plant a kiss on it while they walked inside. She looked like the best version of herself in a floral sundress and flipflops. That’s what spring did to her.

Lottie made the way to the kitchen, her slippers abandoned in a corner next to the door. He closed the heavy door behind him and turned the keys in the old lock, more because of habit than real need in such a small town.

This was her nonna and nonno house, where she grew up. Talking about her parents made her tense up so he never insisted about that, but Lottie would talk into details about her childhood in that house with the grandparents.

Once inherited, Lottie had rearranged some modern furniture here and there, gifted herself with a better plumbing and a big shower... but she was adamant about the rest of the surrounding: no changing, especially the kitchen. That was the room nonna and nonno would spend the most of their days, reading the newspaper and drinking bitter moka coffee at every hour. Chatting about nothing, day after day, for the sixty years they were married. Their bedroom was kept locked, and Lottie would open the window every now and then to air the room.

He sneaked inside a couple of times to have a look at the vast collection of family pictures her grandma had disposed on the dresser. Joost would look for a trace of adult Carlotta into the eyes of her younger version. He always found plenty: from her crooked smile to the hard look she gave to the camera. It made him ache to think about her and himself as kids, wondering for hours what they would be like if life was just a little softer on them both.

He took out his shoes and socks, savoring the cooling feel of the tiles under his feet, and walked to the kitchen. A glass of water was there ready for him. With a sigh, he leaned against the fan in the corner savoring the fresh air through his damp hair. No matter how many times he came there, the heat was something his body was just not made for. Lottie seemed to thrive in the heat, flourishing into a healthier and happier version of herself every summer, making him feel a little less miserable about the discomfort of having, literally, sweaty balls.

He watched her running the tomatoes under the tap water and rip several leaves of basil from the small pot under the window. The smell of it filled the kitchen.

Lottie heard him come closer and hugging her from behind, as she ruffled to prepare them a caprese salad for lunch. As they hugged earlier, she noticed him being thinner than last time they were together. It was not a big deal, she told herself: he was finally back to her, in the safety of her quiet small town and her bed. She would have the time to feed him properly.

As he dipped his nose in the crook of her neck, she was met with the feeling that maybe food was not on the top of his head.

Joost couldn't help himself by inhaling her scent: she smelled of the sunscreen lotion she carefully applied every day. Of clothes dried lazily in the sun. Of the fresh bread bought from the market earlier in the morning.

He tightened his grip around her waist. She smelled of home.

Lottie turned and circled her arms around his torso, pressing an ear on his chest to hear the beat of his calm heart. He planted small kisses in her hair that blossomed in a content sigh from his girl. Joost took her hands in his to guide them to her bedroom, to their bedroom, the one in this old house that was just too cold in winter and made them want to snuggle all day long and too warm in summer to bother with any bedding and just sleep in their underwear. The one that witnessed both their love and their fights, the door to slam at occasion when frustration built up and the bed to welcome the messy love making when peace was made again. But for today Lottie helped him out of his t-shirt, her own sundress already a soft pile on the floor and joined him on the bed. For today, they only needed to show how much they missed one another.

Their first time after being separated for long periods always started a little awkward, out of practice, requiring a lot of patience and giggles. But then something would click in their heads: Joost would kiss that spot on Lottie's neck that made her back arch and breasts squeeze on his chest; Lottie's nails would scratch lightly at his nape, making him close his eyes and part his lips, so she could take the advantage and kiss him deeply, to taste his mouth. All pieces then would fall together in a subconscious practice, like the inner human ability to smell when rain is about to fall.

Lottie was the kind of person that pretends to have control over every aspect of her life, and Joost knew it way too well, so that when she pushed at his shoulders for him to lay down beneath her, he didn't make a fight over it. He helped her lowering on his length, keeping some of her weight into his hands to let her adjust to his size, until he felt himself completely disappear in her warmth, holding him in such a hot embrace that had him exhale deeply through his nose. He knew then at this point she needed to establish her rhythm and move freely from his grip, so he just settled his hands on her waist and let her ride him as she wanted. Both her hands went to her hair – he realized she was a performer even in moments like this, but right now, her moans so soft and her muscles squeezing him so gently, he didn't feel like complaining.

Lottie took his hands in hers, appreciating how willingly he made her be the dominant one, and set his big hands on her breasts. As her hard nipples pressed on his palms, Joost fought the selfish urge to roll them over, so she would be helpless on her back and he could work on only his relief, filling her up in rude strong strokes. He settled for guiding her closer to his face so he could envelope her nipples in his mouth, grazing them lightly with his teeth. Lottie bit down on her lower lip at the sensation, speeding up the movements of her hips, longing for her release. It had been so long since they were together – seven weeks, she knew it by heart – and she just couldn't seem to be able to reach for her orgasm anymore without him filling her so perfectly, holding her body so lovingly, talking her into oblivion. She would occasionally do it by herself, especially in those nights where it seemed impossible to fall asleep, but it would be a mere mechanical thing, quick and without fuss. Enough for her mind to relax, but not to black out as it would happen when with him. When Joost, like now, would look up to her face like she was some sort of deity, his goddess , humble and submissive for her, living only for moments like this. And as he told her how much he loved her, how beautiful her body was, how perfect she felt on him... Lottie came undone with a string of moans, arching her back, her nails clasped on his shoulders. She let him hold her closer to his chest while he thrusted again and again in her working up to his own release. Joost held her impossibly close while coming down from his orgasm, stroking her back and kissing at her temple.

Lottie rolled over, laying on the bed with a soft thud, not getting a moment to collect her breath before Joost was again on her, hugging her chest and laying partially on her. He was not one to respect private space, not when they hadn't shared a bed in months, and she couldn't help but laugh at that weakness, stroking tenderly his hair.

They were finally together. A whole week where they could sleep in, have meals together, run errands...This little portrait of an ordinary couple made her feel vulnerable.

The adventure they shared one night in Malmo turned very quickly in a complicate feeling. The morning after the Eurovision pre-party, she handled him back his belt before sharing a small kiss and walking him out of her hotel room. - That's it - she remembered thinking, watching the door close behind his back and giving herself a praise for landing nobody less than Joost Klein in her own bed. By showering his smell off her body, Carlotta was back to be nobody's but hers, the way she was used to. Relying on people was not easy for orphans like them and she could have never expected for him to get so infatuated so quickly.

The possessiveness that Joost hid behind his insecurity started a savage fire in her. For most of their relationship, she could tame it. But somewhere in the last months, in between a late-night Facetime call and a “open view once” nude selfie, she stopped fighting it, letting it destroy the walls she built around herself.

A deep pink flushed on her cheeks.

"What's going on in there?” Joost asked, surprisingly awake, pointing a single finger to her forehead "Did I not so a good job? You look so serious...” he couldn't help himself- nor his ego- to try and pull a praise on his performance out of her.

"Nothing, really” she brushed it off. He wasn't satisfied by the answer, but the fatigue of the day made him lazy.

“Actually” Lottie decided this could have been a moment like another to say it “ They called me.”

Her muscles stiffened, but she played it cool, stroking his hair like before and trying to act natural. She wasn't sure about his reaction on EBU calling her about the current year festival.

“What did they say?” Joost finally asked. He was trying hard to keep his voice neutral. She knew it.

"They asked me to read the Italian votes at the final”

He unlocked from her embrace and started looking for his clothes on the floor.

“I told them to fuck off.” She said quickly, sitting up on the bed.

Joost, who was putting his t-shirt back on, turned quickly to her: “No, why?”

Lottie raised her eyebrows in surprise. He did sound sincerely concerned.

“I don't want you to keep a distance to their world, Lottie'" he said all in one go “You are an amazing performer and deserve every door to stay open for you, despite what happened to me last year.”

The answer infuriated her. Was he so dumb?

“I’m not going to partake in a manifestation that had such little care of my man.” she spat out, her voice higher than usual.

My man . Joost felt the hair on his nape stand.

"You went to trail, you were proven innocent, and they didn't even make an official statement about the matter. They didn't even apologize” Lottie's hands were moving all over in the air while talking, her Italian side came out at full force when she got emotionally involved.

“I'm past it” Joost shrugged his shoulders, looking for his pants still somewhere on the floor “And I think you should do it." he added.

“Well, I won't” she ended the discussion, back facing him, picking up the dress from the floor and sliding it down her body.

"But I'm glad you are past it...” Lottie turned again to face him “We are invited to see Alessandro perform on Thursday night. Downtown, at the usual pub we go to him with".

Alessandro Mahmoud. Joost remembered him fondly from a couple (or couples) of drinks they shared in Rome last winter. Alessandro won the most important Italian music festival and set on his way to Eurovision, for the second time in his career! He was a kind, brilliant artist and Joost was amazed by his composure while revealing him how little the whole Eurovision experience would mean for him.

“I'm excited to try again, you know” Alessandro told him, in a confident broken English “ Cioè , I also have plans for the summer too: I'm making a shoot of my next videoclip in Sardegna, in the beaches that are not open to turists. That took a lot of energy to organize and finally we got the papers that we can shoot there. I was not expecting to win Sanremo, onestamente , però I'm happy to go to Switzerland”

Joost envied his boldness and wished he got back the one that belonged to himself. The one he had before that ten months of hard work, no weekends and sleepless nights crashed in front of his eyes for the action of an inconsiderate technician.

They toasted to Alessandro's success and wished him luck.

Now here he was, on a late spring Thursday night, holding on his drink on one hand and on his girlfriend on the other while watching Alessandro Mahmoud giving an impossibly beautiful performance on the Eurovision stage. Even from the shitty TV screen of this pub he could feel that that was a winning performance.

Joost couldn't help but wonder if one year before, the same people were watching him perform on a similar stage having the same thoughts. How many of them already forgot about the strange blue man that danced once, just once , on that stage? How many of them got curious and followed his career path for a while to then dismiss his art as an old social media trend?

“Are you ok, amore ?”

Joost forced himself out of his head to watch his girlfriend. He focused his gaze on the black choker that adorned her neck and nodded, smiling, hoping she would believe him. She didn't, but before she could express her concerns, the live show started again to announce the finalists of Eurovision 2025.

Needless to say, Alessandro made his way to the final.

Joost joined the cheerful screams of this pub in his now second home country and hugged Lottie tightly, kissing her head. Still something sting into him. The resentment of the lasts months was still present inside his head, making it difficult to enjoy this moment.

He didn’t want to ruin it for anyone. He gulped down his shot of vodka and also the one she was about to bring to her lips. She stood there still, watching him taking the glass from her. With the same hand, she mentioned to the bartender over his shoulder to prepare two more.

Carlotta brushed aside a strand of his hair.

"It's ok, lieverd " she reassured him with a smile "I got you".

She didn’t get him.

Hissing through her teeth, balancing a cigarette in between her fingertips and watching the relentless needle poking her skin, she realized she didn't take care of him at all.

"If you stay put it will hurt less" Joost kept her wrist in place, while working on the lines of the tattoo, eyes squeezing the concentration out of his alchoolh fogged brain. Lottie shook the extra adrenaline running in her body by tapping her foot on the floor, but kept her arm immobile.

Alessandro gave a great performance at the second semi final and secured a place for Italy in the final of Saturday night.

“We are celebrating him” Lottie and Joost kept saying to each other, guzzling down vodka lemons and dancing to the shitty mainstream songs the pub had on speakers. They stumbled back home after one too many drinks.

Then the old ink and needles she was just to throw away while decluttering made their way out of the trash bag and on the kitchen table, poorly sanitized with the stove fire, and finally in Joost hand as she pointed him exactly where she wanted the home-made tattoo to be.

Joost wiped the sensitive skin using his thumb to reveal a little black J on the inside of her wrist. Satisfied with his work, he placed a kiss on it, putting down the needle on the kitchen table and getting more comfortable on the chair. His pants were down to his knees, leaving him in his underwear. A little C made of black ink, matching her J, popped on the pale skin of the inside of his thigh. He brushed it briefly with his thumb. It almost didn't hurt anymore. She did a good job on it. Way better that what he did on her, he realized, sliding his pants back on.

Lottie passed the half-smoked cigarette from her mouth to his mouth, before speaking: "What happened earlier, in there?” and she pointed at his forehead, mimicking his gestures of some days ago.

“Nothing, really” he brushed it off, smoking the cigarette offered to him and searching for a new one already.

"Really?” she pushed him, tilting her head on the side, acting dumb. If he believed she was too dumb for not noticing his lies, she might as well act the part. She stretched her legs, crossing ankles on top of his thigh. "Because I thought I saw you getting nervous, while the finalists were nominated. Are you... not happy Alessandro made the final?”

“Off course I am” Joost, focused his eyes on lighting the new cigarette in between his lips. Anything to not have to lie to the love of his life while looking at her in the eye. He was fuming. Not because of Mahmoud, because of himself and how he was not recovering as he expected. Despite all the adventures he got to live in this past year, the pain still hurt like the first day. It made him miserable to think he would never recover from this. That not even someone extraordinary like Carlotta could wipe away his shame.

“Or maybe you are just not ready to admit you still hurt”

Joost raised his eyes to hers. She could read him like a fucking open book, the bitch.

“I told you” He was really trying his best to act calm, despite the alcohol and the rage pumping in his veins “I’m over it.”

"The fuck you are” She spat at him.

Joost inhaled loudly through his nose, eyes still fixed in hers, what the hell she thought was doing?

“Just admit it!” Lottie insisted “I'm not here to promise you everything will be all right, or that everything will be forgotten. I don't have these answers you so long for, but do not treat me like an idiot. Be honest with me: are you over it?”

Joost couldn't answer. He knew the truth and couldn't allow himself to be vulnerable in front of her. He was not ready to face it himself. Scared of the pain, scare of her opinion on him: would she leave him again, if she found out he still couldn't properly sleep because of it? Every night he would drink herbal tea and count back from a hundred and do all that bullcrap in the faint hope to close his eyes and just doze off, but instead was met with the memories of what happened exactly one year ago.

Unhappy with his answer, Lottie pushed with her toes on the exact spot on his thigh where his new tattoo stung, making him wince. Looking for a reaction. Any reaction.

He jumped on his chair, surprised by the imminent pain that spread through his leg and the bratty smirk on his lover's face.

“What a bitch...” Joost hissed.

Without giving it much thought, he hooked a finger in her choker and pulled, hard. Her mouth came smashing on his, her eyes wide open from the surprise. He opened her mouth with his and tasted the liquor they have been consuming all night long. He let her mouth go, breathless, his index still firmly attached to her necklace. She bit down her puff bottom lip and looked straight through him with a challenging look.

As he picked her up for the chair, she threw her head back in a drunkish laugh.

Her back slammed on the bed with not much ceremony. Carlotta believed it was a clumsy movement because of their altered status, but as she met Joost eyes while climbing on top of her, she knew he did it on purpose.

Each of his hands were planted in the mattress, each on one side of her head. Carlotta felt her heart skip a beat when one of his fingers casually moved to her neck, stroking way too gently the material of the choker he tested earlier.

In an attempt to ease the mood, she moved her freshly tattooed hand towards his crotch. He blocked her wrist mid air, harshly, a hiss escaping her teeth for the second time this night as he tightened the grip on her arm.

Joost eyes were surprisingly sharp considering the amount of alcohol that was swimming in his body. He tilted his head on the side, thinking his next move. Holding her wrist in one hand, he undid his belt with the other and quickly ran it free from the loops of his pants. It smacked the air with a satisfying whip sound. She watched him wrapping both her wrist together in the leather strip and pressing her arms in the mattress above her head. She grunted in discomfort, but as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, he closed his other hand around her throat.

His grip tightened very gently around the sides of her neck, making her already nervous pulse now race. Her windpipe vibrated under his touch, making him groan.

Lottie saw in his eyes the anger slipping around his brain, slithering like a snake, planting gossips that bloomed into judgments in between his nerves. About not being enough, the weight of being a failure in front of the whole country. About not regaining the so much promised claim over a system that wanted him crushed. His unsatisfied need of control over something, over anything , that has been hunting him for months now. And she wanted nothing but comfort him, exactly in the way he needed.

"Please..." she whimpered, tilting her head back, exposing herself more to him.

He softened his grip and his eyes, sitting comfortably on his heels. His hand slid slowly from her neck to her chest, cupping a breast. She arched in his hands, desperate to get him to touch her bare skin.

He slowly worked her blouse open, revealing the most delicate white lace bra. He toyed with the peak of her nipple with the tip of his thumb, enjoying her squirm under his touch. He pulled down the bra, her breasts overflowing, her nipples hardening in the fresh air. Her summer caramel skin tone was here a paler tint, made even creamier by the moon rays washing over the room. It made his mouth water. The warmth of his mouth on her nipple made Lottie moan, her eyes closed in bliss. She focused on his hands sliding down her ribcage, meeting the hem of her mini skirt and down more to her already severed stockings. She couldn't bother to remember when exactly during the night her outfit failed her. Not as he slid his fingers under the delicate material and pulled firmly on it. Carlotta let out a shriek of surprise at the ripping sound of her nylons being torn apart. Joost slid his hands under her thighs, pulling her hips into his lap. Without hesitation, he moved aside the material of her panties: his eyes fixed in her dark pool ones, that were now looking at him adoringly as he took his time to stroke her gently. If he was to make music with the sounds leaving her lips, he would have enough material to last him a lifetime. It made his head dizzy.

All he saw in her gaze was devotion, surrender, even as she swirled her tongue around the two fingers he put in her mouth to lubricate. He swiftly returned his hand in between her legs, holding her hip with the other, and let Carlotta moaning dictate how deep and how fast he was to push those fingers inside her.

“Please...” she sighed heavily as he arched his fingers in her. Her wrists were now resting on her naked chest, rubbing against each other, in a vain attempt to break loose from their constraint. Her full breasts rising and falling with every deep breath. Her mouth slightly open and her cheeks blushing red. It was the most divine view.

“Put your hands over your head” he commanded. Carlotta’s mind was quickly addicted to the low tone of his voice and let it caress her ears, before reluctantly obeying.

“Good...” He brushed her lips with his thumb, glossing it with a streak of her own fluids.

This brief interaction was almost enough to make her loose herself completely. When he pushed inside her, she felt a new wave of pleasure rush over her leaving her grasping for breath and any kind of anchor, as her restrained arms didn’t allow much movement.

Her body bounced on his lap, welcoming his movements, his fingers dipping in her sides and guiding her hips to his. His mind was soothed by the feeling or her warmth hugging his length, his eyes filled by her body squirming in delight beneath him, his ears by the sounds she made with each thrust. She let go of all vanity and pride to satisfy a need of his and found herself in complete bliss doing so.

He let go of her just enough to make her turn on the mattress, lifting her hips in the air and kneeling behind her. He pushed with an open hand on the small of her back, making her arch so she was on her knees and elbows. The new angle of penetration sent shivers down her spine and sounds she never made escaped her mouth. Joost hold on the waistband of her skirt and tossed his head back, making sure to experience this moment at its fullest. His fingers slid in between her legs to merciless stroke her clit, until she was a bundle of moans under his body and his hand. She silenced a scream by pushing her face in the mattress, her fingers grasping at the sheets as much as they could, trying to anchor her body while her mind was losing any sense of decency under the endless stimulation. His eyes rolled in his head feeling the warmth of her juices overflowing from her orgasm, leaving him pushing in her with almost no friction.

Joost pushed his whole body on her, so now she was pressed in between him and the mattress. Her arms trapped under her body. He hooked an arm around her shoulders to keep her head up, watching her as he worked on his own release pushing inside her once more. She turned her head and got caught in a sloppy kiss, which helped hide her dry moans while his thrusts shook her whole body. He let go with a deep groan and tightened his arm around her, making sure she didn’t move from him, while all the negativity that hunted him for months flown out of his body with his cum.

Not wanting to hurt her, he moved away and helped her on her back again. Her makeup was smudged all over her face, now red from the effort and from the rough material of the sheets. Two tears ran from her eyes and wet her hair. Lottie showed him her wrists, silently asking to let her loose. Once freed, Joost kept her wrists in his hands planting kisses all over them. She smiled at him and then brushed her tears away.

"I didn't mean to scare you” Joost breathed out, voice shaking, tears glimmering at the corner of his eyes. He turned his head away when he couldn't contain them anymore. Lottie was quickly sitting up and wrapping her arms around his chest, bringing him down with her again. He let the sobs shake his whole body, washing away all the tension he stored in his muscles and head, knowing he was safe in his lover's arms.

"Please don't leave” he sobbed on her shoulder. Her mouth quick to cover his before answering: “I'm not going anywhere...”

"No, I mean it” Joost insisted, sliding his arms around her back to hold her impossibly close, his eyes burning in hers: "Come live with me in Berlin.”

Time stretched as Lottie hold her breath at the direct question- no, the request- he just dropped on her. Those blue pools of eyes, shimmering from crying, digging into her dark ones, searching for any sign of confirmation that this was not a one-sided relationship. That she needed him as much as he needed her.

Because he needed her.

The way she just challenged him to face his feelings and then took almost effortlessly his reaction, so wild, like he wanted to exorcise a demon that kept gnarling at his brain. And her sore muscles and bruised wrists were the testimony of how much she enjoyed taking it from him. But living together, settling down?

Lottie peeled his arms from her body: “Joost... I don't think it's a good idea” Lottie swore she heard his heart crack, but she already started speaking her truth. "What would we even do in Berlin? Play pretend family?”

“I'm not pretending.” He declared, firm, now sitting on the bed but still holding one of her wrists in his hand, like unable to physically let her go, too scared she would talk her way out of the bed, inside her clothes and possibly even out of her own house... Anything, not to have this conversation with him again.

So Joost played it in counterattack. He was the one who got up from the bed, picking his pants and dressing while exiting the room. The whole evening events left Lottie speechless, she would have a big headache thinking about it in the morning, but for now she just kept her eyes up to the tall blond man who made his was out of the bedroom, cursing at the zip of his pants not working properly through the other rooms of the house, to then pace back to her bed, holding a small box in his hand.

Lottie jumped up "Don't.”

Joost stopped in the doorway, holding gaze with her, like one of those child games where if you blink, you lose. Game over. You must go back to the starting point, without collecting your prize, empty handed and try again, maybe next time you'll be lucky.

But he was done playing. He blinked and she still was there, eyes wide open, an animal caught in the middle of the road at night by a speeding car.

"Don't..." She repeated, softly, maybe mostly for herself. Lottie could not stop a desperate man for trying, for having a clear answer for once in his life, she also couldn't imagine how she could be his answer at all. Or maybe she was just a distraction, a toy, to keep his hands full and his balls empty while keeping his life unaltered, travelling the world and climbing his career ladder while she was expected to stay still for him.

She didn't want that, she didn't want to be her mother. Lost in her tedious routine, unable to free herself from the expectations that were placed on her as the wife of a famous painter: a stable job to provide for the family as his income was instable, to be a present mother, to contribute to community, to be respectful to the maestro pittore that was not at all respectful of her or their marriage, dragging more models into his bed than what she could imagine. A level of sadness that dragged her to her tomb, way before the world “depression” was of common use. Freeing him to have his life somewhere else, trapping yet another grown woman with pretty words and a charismatic smile, one hand on her hip and the other in her wallet, and depriving a daughter of her mother.

Joost walked up to her and placed the small box on her nightstand, closed.

"What's happening in there?” he pointed with a finger to her forehead, his thumb just randomly aimed at the ceiling.

-Just shoot me already... - she thought.

"Don't ask me this” If she was to put an end to this relationship, tonight, at least she wanted complete honesty between each other. “Don't reduce me to an accessory, your accessory, don't ask me to be happy in your shadow.”

“I want nothing of that” Joost kneeled at the side of the bed, more to be on the same eye level, but still they noticed how fitting the gesture was to this situation. “I love you, Lottie. My existence is split in two: one is with, and one is without you. That's the only way recognize time. And I'm done being without you. We can do it our way, start our own traditions... Let's start fresh, come to Berlin.”

Lottie listened to his speech keeping her eyes set on the picture that he stole from her grandma's room and placed on her nightstand. It was little after her mom died, she was four and sent to live to a unknow town with those grandparents she didn't meet a lot before. They didn't like her father, so her mom had put a distance between her new family and her original one. But still they welcomed that scared, scarred, little girl in their house and made it a home for her. In the picture she was sitting on her grandma's knees and both of them were looking intently at the camera, grandma had an arm around her waist to keep her safe from falling. Grandma had an everyday ring, a small thing made of gold, with a precious shiny green gem and Lottie remembered being very fond of it. She spent the firsts days in silence in the new house, trying to get used to the situation, and grandma would make sure to always hold her little hand in her already old one, staying in silence with her.

Just being.

In the shininess of that gem, in the surprising softness of that stranger hand enveloping hers, that baby found comfort and security.

Joost dared one hand out and wrapped is fingers around hers.

Lottie moved her eyes to his blue ones. This was going to hurt...

_______________________________________________

Rain was pouring down for hours, but people still were lining up outside the venue, wrapped in their raincoat and using their backpack to cover their heads. Joost was moved, he personally went out there to give away some rain covers provided by the venue and umbrellas, stopping here and there for a selfie, acting his usual silly trying to keep the mood up.

He ran backstage once he felt everyone was as happy as they could, keeping a hand firm on the side pocket of his pants, where his phone was. It was a habit in these days: he would usually be one to forget his phone anywhere, but know he needed to know where it was at every hour of the day.

He left Italy alone. Without a ring and without Lottie. With his heart heavy and his brain scrambled.

Throwing himself into work was the only solution to his sleepless nights and a good distraction to keep his hands busy, too. He promised himself not to be the first one to reach out to Lottie, trying to give her the time to make a decision about their future. She asked him for time, and he kept the best composure he could to nod at her request, pack his bag and leave, only to crumble once back in his home country. Luckily some friends picked him up for the airport: he didn't remember calling them or how he got home, or what day it was, but for the next few weeks there was always somebody in his apartment, making sure he ate, brushed his teeth and slept. Encouraging him to take daily walks. Feeding him insignificant gossip from the music world. Keeping him distracted. He must have looked like a mess, he sure felt as such.

They tried to take his phone away too, but he threw a fuss about it. He was not to miss a call from her, when it came.

-I f it comes - he thought.

He shook his head vigorously, pumping up his nerves for the show. He picked the microphone they gave him, unplugged his brain, and just let muscles memory to it all for him.

It did the trick. He exchanged the microphone for a bottle of water and a towel and sat backstage to catch his breath. It went good, he showed a thumbs up to the crew and everybody seemed satisfied. He felt satisfied, almost like back in himself, and it felt good.

Especially during Antwoord, the audience loved that song. They sang and jumped so hard he felt the ground tremble under his feet. For a moment he thought he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket too...

He quickly reached for it, dropping his water and making a mess on the floor. It didn't matter. Nothing did now, as he read the notification: " @carlottamorettisinger tagged you in a post ”.

Joost opened Instagram, immediately he was met with the latest's posts of Lottie's show. He carefully checked every picture of the gallery, focusing on her face and expression, trying to read anything behind the scenic smile she plastered on her mouth for the show.

As he approached the last picture, his mouth opened agape.

She gave the finger to the camera, showing a ring, his ring, the tag made it very clear for everybody to see. A small thing made of gold with a green gem, proudly sitting on her middle finger. Her mouth scrunched up, like when blowing a kiss.

He smiled uncontrollably at the phone.

It was a start.

_______________________________________

Thank you for being here, it was a long one but needed to give them closure!

This was Neon war paint, and you can find:

pt1 here

pt 2 here

Thanks again,

Yellow

#rpf fic #joost klein #joost klein fanfic #joost klein x original character #joost klein smutt #eurovison song contest #writing #ao3 #fanfic

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yellowfunnybunny · 17 days ago

Text

I wanna see you but you're not mine

Tags: suggestive, 18+ only, angst, cheating

RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with it.

You are melting into each others mouths, soft breathless moans filling the dark room, his beard scratches your chin, but you don't care, not when he tastes so good, his hands so tight around your waist. You haven't been together that long, but you think you love him. Know he loves you, because he says it into your ear, pressing his body against yours, making you lay down further on the bed.

You can hear the sounds of the party downstairs. The noise of glass breaking and a second later your friend's voice scolding someone making you both laugh separating for a split second before his lips meet your neck. You feel his hands start to bunch up your skirt around your hips, his rough hands caressing your soft skin.

You don't hear the door open.

"Oh shit" a familiar voice startles you. Your boyfriend separates from you, turning his head towards the noise, his hand moving to cover your exposed thigh.

The door is slightly open, warm light spilling into the room. You catch a glimpse of blond hair, as you look from behind your boyfriend's shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." Joost dramatically covers his eyes with a hand, standing in the doorway. "Promise I didn't see anything."

"Hey. What's up." your boyfriend sits up, adjusting his pants, trying to cover up the evident bulge.

"Chris can't figure out the sound system. He was looking for you. I can tell you are busy-" Joost removes the hand that was covering his eyes, looking at you and your boyfriend.

"No, it's okay. I'll go help." your boyfriend replies. He leans in to place a quick kiss on your lips. "They can't do anything without me." you giggle at his words, wiping your lipstick from his lips, fixing his hair at least a little.

"I'll be downstairs." he says to you and gets up, moving past Joost, patting him on the shoulder.

You turn on a nightstand lamp, the soft light making you squint at the contrast.

"Can I come in?" Joost asks hesitating.

"Sure." You smile at him, as you stand up to check your makeup in the mirror. He comes into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Feels like I haven't seen you in forever." he says leaning against the door.

"Does it?" you look at him through the mirror. "We've seen each other last weekend at dinner."

"Yeah, but I mean just the two of us."

"Oh. I guess it has been awhile." you sit back on the bed rummaging through your purse looking for a lipstick to reapply it. "You are so busy now. Big star." you tease him laughing.

He smiles and sits next to you. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." you say softly, looking up at him. His eyes are filled with so much adoration, but there is also something else underneath. His gaze moving down to your lips, before returning to your eyes. This look would have made your heart race a year ago, but you buried those feelings deep enough.

"He doesn't deserve you." he says suddenly.

"What?" you look at him confused, you must have misheard him.

"I can't stand seeing you with him." he shakes his head.

"Joost, you are drunk." you say with a chuckle, even though you don't find this funny at all.

"I am." he says turning to fully face you now. "But I mean it. It makes my insides twist whenever I see him put his hands around you. Holding you close" he closes his eyes, "when it should be me."

You feel like your blood is boiling, he can't be serious right now. You and Joost have been friends for many years, although his personality and similar interests you share made you develop a crush on him not that long after meeting him. You hid your feelings towards him scared of ruining your friendship, not being sure if he feels the same way towards you. Until one day you spilled it all out to him, and everything changed, at least for you.

"What is wrong with you? Why are you doing this? He doesn't deserve you" you repeat his words. "And you do?" he winces at your words. "Remember what you said after that night?"

That night. The night you twisted your ankle falling off a bike and Joost helped you get to your apartment, his hands holding you so firm yet gentle, brushing away any fallen tears. Cooing at your winces when he was wrapping a bandage around your ankle. When he kissed your knee so softly, it made your breath catch. You ended up drinking wine, watching trash TV shows till the moon shone through your window.

"How is your foot?" he asks when a commercial break starts.

"Still hurts, but I'll live." you say turning to him. "You didn't have to stay with me."

"I wanted to." Joost replies, his hand brushing your hair softly away from your face.

You didn't think about it, you leaned in and kissed him.

"I'm sorry. I-" you pulled away, but before you could finish your sentence, he crashed his lips into yours. His lips felt like everything you imagined and better, you couldn't get enough of him, but scared to be too eager. It makes you moan into his mouth when he takes more initiative, you feel his hand on your cheek, coordinating your moves, deepening the kiss. You have to separate for air far too quick. You look at him, both of you breathing heavily, still processing what just happened.

"I wanted to do this for a while." you confess to him.

"You should have." he kisses you again, pushing you to lay down making sure not to put any pressure on your injured leg. Your mind is racing a hundred miles an hour, this is finally happening, it seems so silly now that you were scared to confess your feelings to him. Your train of thoughts is interrupted when you feel him bite your bottom lip, the feeling making you gasp and open your mouth in surprise. He uses the opportunity to introduce his tongue to yours.

He is kissing you so deep, making you feel like he also wanted you all this time, you wrap your hands around his shoulders pulling him even closer. He smiles into the kiss, making your teeth clash, but you continue making out, not being able to separate from each other. He touches you all over in exploration trying to feel you and at the same time pull more of the delicious sounds from you, which taste so good mixed with your wine stained lips on his mouth.

You fall asleep cuddled up together on the couch, your back to his chest, his big hand splayed on your stomach. Feeling like the happiest person in the world, tracing the tattoo on his knuckles, his steady breath on your neck. You don't remember falling asleep, but you can't wait to wake up and see him again.

You wake up alone. Memories of last night flood in, for a second you can't decide if it was a dream or reality. You yawn stretching, and hear footsteps coming from the kitchen.

"Hi." you beam up when you see Joost come into the room, a steaming cup in his hand.

"Hi." when you don't hear the same excitement in his voice and a weak smile on his face, a chill runs down your spine, not in a good way.

"I made you coffee." he says placing the cup on the table in front of you.

"Thank you." you look at him.

He sits down on the side of the couch you both slept in, his hair still messy.

"About last night." he is avoiding your eyes. "I think we should stay friends"

You look at him, not being able to find what to say right now.

"I'm sorry if I led you on." he finally looks at you.

"No, no. I am sorry. It was a mistake." you say your voice uncharacteristically flat, drinking the coffee, which is too bitter, not the way you like it.

"I knew you would understand." he feels like a rock has lifted off his shoulders, meanwhile you can barely breathe trying not to cry, all the color has drained from the room.

He promised this wouldn't ruin your friendship and it didn't. You continued being friends ignoring what happened, even though it took you months to heal and your girl friends wiping your tears away. It took even longer to build your confidence to be able to open up to someone again. Bitter taste still in your mouth.

"I regret it so much, you don't even know." his words are full of pain.

"You are right. I don't know." you want to hurt him with your words, but you give up, you still love him, but not in the same way. You sigh. "There wasn't anyone looking for him, was there?"

"No, Chris actually needed help. But it wasn't that urgent, he would have figured it out on his own." He moves to sit closer to you, putting his hand on your knee.

"Joost..." you lean away from his touch, avoiding his eyes.

"I like you." he leans to try to catch your eyes again. "I like you and I'm sorry it took me so long to realise."

"No." you turn to look at him, your voice raising. "No, you don't get to do this. You know how hard it has been seeing you with different girls all these years?"

"I was so stupid" he sighs and you sit in silence for a few moments. "I was looking for you in every one of them." he turns to look you, his knuckles brush your cheek softly.

"I was right there, Joost." you close your eyes. "You didn't have to look far." Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, you think of everything you could have had together, how different it all could have been, if only he made an effort to see you.

"I am so sorry, liefje." he leans closer to you, his lips a breath away from yours. You don't lean away from him this time.

"Can I kiss you?" his voice is barely above a whisper.

You nod and he closes the distance between you. His lips are soft on yours, his hand warm on your cheek. You kiss him back and hear a sigh of relief from him. It is not rushed like that night, both of you not sure, but he deepens the kiss, his head spinning at the thought that he finally has you. He is holding your jaw so tender lips moving against yours, he wants more, wants himself all over you, but doesn't want to push his luck, doesn't want to scare you away.

He starts to kiss your neck, holding you close to his chest. He can smell your boyfriend's cologne lingering on your skin, he groans while placing open mouth wet kisses along your skin. Gripping your waist, he makes a move to put you on his lap. You let him. He hates that he waited so long to finally do this, that he was scared and blind towards his feelings, but maybe he has a chance now.

"Joost." you try to catch your breath. "Joost, wait." you push at his shoulders. He stops, looking up at you with his big blue eyes. "We shouldn't be doing this." you move from his lap, his hand trailing from your waist to your thigh. You take both of his hands in yours.

He knows what is coming next, his head falling on your shoulder. You brush his hair on the back of his head softly.

"We are better as friends." you tell him. You hear let out a chuckle into your neck.

You pull him to face you, holding his face on each side, "I would have let you do anything you wanted back then, you know." you whisper. He closes his eyes and puts his forehead against yours, the pain of realising what could have been too much to bear. "But that time is long gone."

"Schat..." he can't find the right words, maybe there aren't any. Maybe vocabulary hasn't progressed to fix whatever this situation is.

"I really do love him." you move to sit further away on the bed. You wish it didn't hurt that much to leave him here, but it's better for the both of you.

You find your boyfriend downstairs on a couch, enthusiastically telling a story to your group of friends. You touch his shoulder and sit down next to him, a smile spreading across his face as soon as he sees you. He places a kiss on your lips "There you are."

"Missed me?" you tease him, your face still close to his.

"Yeah. Always." he kisses you again.

"Get a room you two." your friend groans in a joking manner.

"We tried!" your boyfriend says laughing. You fall back into the conversation again.

"Jesus.. Slow down, dude." someone calls out from the kitchen. You turn around to see Joost drinking a second shot. He slams down the glass, and heads towards the balcony, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from his back pocket.

"What's up with him?" your boyfriend asks pointing in Joost's direction. You shrug your shoulders.

"I'll go for a smoke too, to check on him." he says. "Wanna join?"

"No, I'm okay." you give him a weak smile and watch him open the balcony door.

After a long while, your boyfriend finally comes back joining you on the couch, smelling like smoke.

"How did it go?" you ask.

"Fine, Joost just kept saying how lucky I am. I should treasure you." he puts an arm your shoulders, smell of cigarette enveloping you.

"Well, you should." you laugh, but your heart aches.

It is around 3 am, you feel way too drunk, more than you planned to be today. But time has flown by, you caught up with all your friends at the party, having a drink with each different group, mingling with everyone.

"Should we go home?" you ask your boyfriend.

"Yeah. I am knackered." his head falls dramatically to your shoulder.

As you leave, you see Joost going upstairs, a pretty girl by his side.

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