#‘I don’t know how the walls got so dirty’ probably because the miasma got so thick it condensed on your walls that half repainted

[scarletfish]

See You Better

Summary: Buddy glances at Peter briefly. “He’s very dramatic, don’t you think? A fever and a cough and he’s got us all gathered around like it’s his deathbed.” 

Pairings: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: one minor reference to past abusive relationship, and slight PTSD (looking at you, Miasma)  AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23766886

A/N: Thanks @pigeon-pigeoff from tumblr for the sickfic prompt. It’s taken like, ten years, I’m the actual worst, but also I thought I had covid, got tested, and ended up having strep. So. It’s been a Week. This is like, 30% sickfic, 90% Nureyev Being Dramatic

“You got this Mistah Ransom!” Rita shoots the taller man two exaggerated thumbs up.

Her stage whisper is about as quiet as a Tunguskan siren.

It’s the middle of the goddamn night, and Peter Nureyev is standing outside his… coworker’s bedroom door. When he glances at the tray of food he’s balancing, there’s orange snack dust on his silk pajamas.

His nice silk pajamas. How in Jupiter’s moons did he end up here?

***

The short answer is that Juno is a child.

The slightly extended answer is that Juno is a child who refuses to take care of himself, and somehow that translated to the detective’s former secretary tapping quietly on Nureyev’s door at some ungodly morning hour.

He considered, for one glorious moment, slipping his eye mask back down and pretending to be asleep. Whatever it was could most likely wait until morning, and he needed a full face of makeup coupled with some strong tea to face--

File it away. Tying the sash of his robe as he walked, he crossed the small room and slid his cabin door open with one eyebrow raised.  

“Rita, is there something I could assist you--” He began with a slightly concerned tone (Rita had yet to approach him one-on-one, and he assumed that she held similar suspicions to the rest of the crew) but she was already off at a fast-paced whisper (for Rita, a regular volume a bit hoarser than her normal speaking voice).

“Mistah Ransom! I couldn’t wake anyone else up ya see, ‘cause Miss Vespa’s with Miss Buddy, and Miss Buddy said I ain’t allowed to wake her up before five anymore unless something’s on fire--”

“A wise injunction,” Peter muttered.

“--and I thought a settin’ something a little on fire, just a tiny bit, ‘cause it’s the boss, and this’s an emergency, but then I said, boundaries are important Rita--”

Peter went to sweep a hand dramatically down his face, then remembered his eyeliner, then remembered it’s the middle of the night and he’s not actually wearing eyeliner, and ended up fluttering his hand exasperatedly around his head.

“Perhaps you could tell me exactly why you’re here so we can both get back to our beauty sleep?”

 “Right! Well you know Mistah Steel’s been feelin’ sick,” she began, and Peter’s eyebrows drew together imperceptibly. As Rita began describing the food she’s been bringing him, returned uneaten, Peter nodded along and cast his mind over the past forty-eight hours.

Juno can’t be that ill, he would have noticed... Wouldn’t he?

Suddenly it’s difficult to tell how much Peter has written off when it comes to the new, softer version of the man he once knew. Juno had always been intelligent without even trying, confident, quick on his feet. Beautiful. Distracting. So when Peter woke up alone That Morning, he had to put Juno Steel in a box. A tiny, inconsequential box, where Juno was nothing special, and Peter could get out of bed in the morning.

It became increasingly difficult to keep Juno inside of the box when the real thing was living only two doors down, but Peter realized his desperate attempts to minimize the detective had made him ridiculously impartial.

When Peter could no longer pretend Juno was simply a bumbling fool, he chalked up the coffee spills, the small stumbles, and the misjudged distances to his missing eye.

The fatigue, the heavy clothing even in the sweltering climate of their last mission, the heat of Juno’s skin when he was playing drunk in front of their mark yesterday, and the way he leaned a bit heavier on the thief than he usually would-- it hadn’t occurred to Nureyev that none of these things could be attributed to loss of depth perception.

Peter frowned.

“--and you ain’t never sleepin’ much anyways, and the boss listens to you more than anyone else. Except me of course! And Captain Buddy. And when Vespa’s got her knife out she’s real intimidatin’--”

Listens to… Peter tucked the thought away quickly. For consideration in the very, very distant future. “I understand your concern, Rita. If Juno is refusing to take care of himself however, there’s not much we can--”

“Oh please, Mistah Ransom!” Rita cut in desperately, her eyes shining with… were those tears? “I’ve been real patient, but he told me he was feelin’ real strange just an hour ago and asked if I could get him some water and now he’s not answerin’ his door, and I could get it open myself, but what if it’s aliens, like in that one program, Aliens on a Spaceship--”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose.

The detective was likely sleeping off a bad cold and thinking little of the chaos he wreaked. He wasn’t worried... but Rita didn’t deserve this stress, and she probably wouldn’t be able to rest properly without an invesitagion...

“All right! I’m uncertain what you imagine I’ll be able to accomplish that you cannot, but if it will reassure you, I will… what exactly is it that you propose?”

Sleep was but a fleeting dream on the Carte Blanche, it seemed.

Rita broke into a face-splitting grin and latched one hand onto his wrist. The tears, he noticed, had miraculously gone.

***

Now, Nureyev is shifting awkwardly outside Juno’s door, balancing a tray of food in one hand and his pride in the other. He hears some shuffling from inside the small room and taps lightly on the aluminum panel.

Despite what he attempted to tell Rita, the thief is certain Juno will answer the door for him, no matter the hour.

“Juno, it’s me. Are you awake?”

...Which is why he’s surprised to hear silence in response to his greeting. He almost knocks again, but his pride won’t let him.

A child.  

“Juno, I think we’d all like to get some rest, and Rita is incredibly concerned about your well-being. If you could at least--” he’s cut off by a loud thump that almost startles him enough to flinch.

Rita jumps about a foot in the air. “Boss?!”

That’s it. Peter simultaneously sets the tray down hard and pulls a thin blade from the pocket of his robe to prize the door open.

At first glance the room is empty, but Peter’s already inside, skimming his eyes across the muddle of dirty clothes and dishes. Where, where, where…

There. The bathroom door is open, and Juno is puddled on the floor, still. (Again.) Peter’s chest clenches and he’s momentarily back in Miasma’s chambers, faced with a series of impossible decisions. No, no, no .

He can’t breath, Rita is saying something and pushing past him but there’s a ringing in his ears, and he’s frozen, useless, selfish, how did he miss this--

Someone bumps into him and Peter swings around to see… Jet?

Peter’s idol has gently shouldered him out of the way and is making his way towards Juno. “I’ll get him to the medbay so Vespa can check him over.”

The medbay? Peter’s brain is scrambling to catch up, to categorize the way Rita is calmly kneeling by Juno’s prostrate form, chattering quietly, and Jet is stooping to scoop Juno’s body up like a child, when Juno… groans?

Peter’s frozen as scenes from the past play out over reality. Juno bleeding, Juno screaming.

“M’ okay, just cold,” he complains, pushing weakly at Jet’s arms.

“That is because you have a fever and did not allow Vespa to treat you when you should have.”

“Boss?”

“I’m fine, Rita, I just tripped,” he fights to keep his eye open and fails, muttering, “I’m so goddamn tired.”

The words building behind Peter’s teeth burst out. “Fever? What are you--” he tries again, “How did you?” Fails again.

Jet shoots a curious look at Peter’s wild hair, his mismatched slippers, the expression lingering on his face before Peter quickly clears it. The large man cocks his head.

“The ship has thin walls, and neither of you have been particularly quiet. I alerted Vespa that we would most likely need her medical skills, and then arrived to offer my assistance.”

Rita tugs on Peter’s robe. “Mistah Ransom? Thanks for your help tonight, you can get your rest now. Ol’ Rita’s got it under control!” With that, she plods after Jet’s receding figure, leaving Peter in the doorway, still holding his knife and feeling useless. He flicks it closed.

A fever.

For a second, he had thought… well.

The adrenaline hits afterwards, like it always does, and Peter picks up the discarded food tray with shaking hands. He has every intention of taking it to the kitchen and then slipping back to his room (Juno doesn’t need him), but his feet start carrying him in the opposite direction, towards the medbay, instead.

After all, Rita subsists off of salmon snacks, they might need some real food. And Jet is kind, but lacking bedside manner. Besides, Juno and Vespa don’t get along very well, and what if Juno says something in his fever-addled state that sets her off?

Best to check in, if only briefly. Thoroughness is important in his line of work.

Upon nearing the medbay however, he’s faced with a choice.

“In or out?” Buddy is leaning in the doorway, watching a growling Vespa try to place a hydration patch on Juno’s arm.

“Lie still!”

“I don’t remember asking for your help!” Juno’s barbed retorts are less sharp than usual, his eye clenched against the light, but Peter relaxes a bit. Vespa does not.

“If you don’t pipe down, you’re going to need more help than I can give you!”

Buddy glances at Peter briefly. “Not being able to admit weakness can become a weakness itself.” The captain sounds disapproving, but a slight smile touches her lips. “He’s very dramatic, don’t you think? A fever and a cough and he’s got us all gathered around like it’s his deathbed.”

“In,” Peter decides, “I’m going in.”

“Tell Vespa I’ll meet her back in bed when she’s finished. Good night, darling.” In a sweep of colorful satin, she’s gone.

He places the tray of food on a small end table. Jet is nowhere to be seen, but Rita is watching streams on her comm from a chair pushed against the foot of Juno’s bed. Peter drags a chair beside her and sits.

Despite her earlier dismissal, Rita doesn’t look surprised to see him. Without looking away from her screen, she holds her bag of salmon snacks towards Peter. He takes one. It isn’t terrible.

Vespa has finished wrestling with Juno and is thrusting her equipment back into the cabinets with a bit more force than necessary.

Over her shoulder, she intones, “Looks like he might live,” and jerks her thumb towards a box on the wall, “unfortunately. Call me if his fever gets over forty again. The box will beep. Might be loopy between doses, suppressant is heavy, it’ll only release every six hours.”

And then there were three.

Juno is restless, somewhere between waking and sleep for the next couple hours. When he starts speaking under his breath, Peter leans closer to listen, and Juno rolls to face him. He cracks his eye open and Peter’s heart jumps...

“You... shouldn’t be here.”

And drops. Of course Juno doesn’t want him here. He made his apology, but the Juno Steel who fell for a lonely thief with too many names has grown up. Changed.

“Rita?”

“Yeah, boss?”

Peter turns to go, until, “Rita… when I fell. When I… in my room, I thought I saw Ransom.”

And he couldn’t move if he tried. Rita reaches for Juno’s hand. “Yeah Boss, he’s right there!”

“No, he can’t be, I fucked up… I fucked things up so badly Rita.”

“Nope, he’s definitely right over there Boss.” Peter turns to see a distressed look cross Juno’s face.

“Rita, he’s gotta get out of here! Make him leave, you both have gotta get out…” he trails off, his eyebrows pulling together. He’s flipping through time so quickly, Peter isn’t sure where each scene ends and the next begins.

“Outta where? I think the meds have got you all turned in circles, Mistah Steel.”

He sounds more uncertain now, growing fainter. “I can take it, I can keep going if I know he’s safe, if you’re safe--”

“But we are safe, Boss.”

“I don’t… I can’t remember. But Rita,” his voice grows urgent again, “please, you can’t let him see me like this! I wanted,” he’s quiet for a long time. So long, Peter thinks he might have fallen asleep.

But as he softly approaches the bedside, Juno finds his words.

“I wanted him to see me better.”

Peter reaches Rita’s side feeling a strange tightness in his throat. She looks almost motherly as she pats Juno’s hand.

“I think he does, Boss.” With that, she raises her eyebrows at Nureyev (aside from her hacking skills, he never thought of Rita as particularly intimidating until that moment), grabs her snacks and comms unit, and tells Peter she’s going to get some water.

She doesn’t return for the rest of the night.

Peter is left with a softly snoring Juno and no idea what to do with his hands. He takes a seat and rests his fingers as close as he dares to the detective’s curls.

“I do. I do see you better, Juno,” he whispers.

***

Juno wakes up an hour before the next dose, shivering and trying to pull Peter’s arm over him. It almost gives Peter a heart attack.

He pulls a blanket from a nearby bed as soon as he can extract his arm. Grabs a second one for good measure. His arm is burning from where it came into contact with Juno, and for a moment he remembers another night, arm flung haphazardly around the detective, skin burning.

He resigns himself to a sleepless night.

Two hours later, he’s woken by Juno kicking and flailing under the now-sweaty pile of blankets.

As he smoothes a damp washcloth over Juno’s forehead, Juno mutters, “No wait, Diamond, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve come home,” And oh the temptation to ask. Juno is feverish and lost in a past he’s locked away. As badly as he wants to unlock that past and spread it out before him in neatly ordered files that might give him an inkling of what makes up Juno, of who he’s supposed to be around this new Juno…

But he knows Juno would never forgive him if he took advantage now. So he is silent, stroking the cloth on Juno’s forehead. Biting his tongue.

When Vespa enters the medbay early the next morning, she wakes Peter with a snort. Somehow even her smugness is aggressive. After extracting his arm (again, damn it) from Juno’s vice-like grip, he wraps his robe a bit tighter and stalks out of the room, head held high even as he feels his cheeks burning.

***

“Over my dead body!”

“That can be arranged!”

Peter hesitates outside the medbay door, not sure he wants to walk straight into the crossfire. He’s managed to avoid Vespa and Juno’s battleground all day, but Buddy wouldn’t let that stand.

“I’m not taking your goddamn poison, Vespa!”

“Aw, I’m sorry, did I hurt your fragile little feelings? Would you like Ransom back?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your boyfriend was in here playing nursemaid all night,” Vespa growled, suspicion creeping into her voice. “Ya know, I’m starting to recall that neither of you ever did elaborate on where you know each other from.”

So Juno didn’t remember last night. He spluttered for a moment, but recovered enough to weakly retort, “Right, which you would know because… aw, Vespa, were you in here all night? I didn’t know you cared.”

“I couldn’t care less , I only know because--” Peter decided this was an opportune moment to interrupt. High excitement, bad for healing.

“Vespa! Tea, there you are, I brought a tray, is there anything else I could get for you?”

Juno was propped up, pale but coherent, and Vespa was standing over him, fists clenched. She whirled on Peter. “I don’t recall asking you for--”

“Excellent! I’ll leave it over here for your return. Buddy sent me with dinner for our patient, but would love to see you in the dining room. I trust that would be agreeable to you?”

For a moment Peter worried she might stay and argue, but with an exasperated “ fine ”, she turned heel and stalked off.

Faced with direct eye contact from a lucid Juno, Peter suddenly wished he hadn’t set the food down so fast. He needed something to do with his hands.

Juno broke the silence first, letting his head fall back on the pillows behind it. “Tell Buddy I can get my own dinner, you don’t have to trouble yourselves.”

Peter studied the detective. “It’s no trouble, Juno. You had us all worried,” he said quietly.

Juno scoffed. “I needed some whiskey and a good night’s rest, that’s all.”

“Rita was very concerned--”

This time Juno let out a derisive laugh. “Rita’s also very concerned about Greta Glamour and whether she’ll survive the robot ghost apocalypse next season. No offense, but she’s not the pinnacle of practicality.”

Peter knew Juno was being difficult on purpose. He knew he was embarrassed and picking a fight. He rose to the bait anyway, voice rising with each word. “You passed out on your bathroom floor because you couldn’t keep yourself upright! Jet had to carry you to that bed! Your fever was so high it was burning through your body and shutting it down--”

Juno cut him off.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset with me!” His voice became harsher. “No one wants to see you when you’re sick! No one likes you like that! It’s disgusting, it’s something you take care of privately, and why are you looking at me like that?”

Peter tried to keep his face neutral, but he felt his anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. It was obvious Juno was repeating someone else’s words. He felt a tug in his gut. Before he could come up with a response, however, Juno was talking again.

“God, Nureyev, I’m sorry, I completely went off at you. When,” he clears his throat and the words come out in a rush, “when I got sick in Hyperion, I just drank. Until I couldn’t feel it anymore. You’re right though, this was my bad.”

Peter moved to sit gingerly on the side of the bed. “No, Juno. It wasn’t your bad, or anyone’s bad. We all get sick.” He rested his hand on what he hoped was the general area of Juno’s knee. “We want to help because we care about you even when you aren’t at your best,” he caught Juno’s eye. “You don’t have to isolate yourself.”

Peter can’t help but feel a bit smug when he sees a deep blush rising up Juno’s throat. “Well I-- that’s-- thanks, I guess,” he grumbles. “But I’m going to get you sick too if you stay in here too long.”

“I think we passed that threshold last night, Juno dear.” He can’t keep the flirtation out of his voice any longer. It slips over him like a comfortable gown, hiding all his insecurities and doubts.

“What,” the detective deadpans.

“Speaking of,” Peter grows slightly more serious, “I wouldn’t hold a lady to the words she says while she’s in the throes of a fever, but you were apologizing. To someone, last night, quite distraught.”

Juno doesn’t break eye contact. His mouth opens a few times, as if he’s trying to shovel the right words out but they’re too heavy. At least for right now. The way he’s looking at Peter feels like a confession in itself as he says slowly, “Must’ve been delirious.”

“Well, the past is the past, and I say we drink to the future. Well, I’ll drink my tea, and you can drink the lovely medicine Vespa so kindly located for you.”

“Don’t push it, Ransom.”

“Or,” Peter stands to retrieve a bottle from the tray he brought in.

“Is that from Buddy’s private stash? You sly dog.” Juno lifts the alcohol appreciatively. The container is about a quarter full.

“Vespa’s, actually. I thought you deserved a bit of celebration since you missed the post-heist dinner last night.”

“Dangerous game, Nureyev. A toast?”

Peter lifts his teacup and says mildly, “To your health.”

Juno finishes half the bottle in a gulp and immediately begins spluttering. He rounds on Peter.

“Did you put medicine in a whiskey bottle?!”

“All the dishes were in the wash.”

“This isn’t a dish. This is trash.” The detective scowls deeply.

Peter only shrugs. “Rita saves them for something.”

“Rita--” Juno stops. Lets out a strange chuckle. Peter doesn’t inquire further, but the corner of his lips quirk upwards when he sees Juno sneak another sip and complain, “Vespa doesn’t even drink, damn it.”

I do see you better.

#peter nureyev #juno steel #jupeter #the penumbra podcast #hc juno calls nureyev ransom when they're alone to piss him off #rita ships it

[squiishiichaos]

Rikuroku? And they only start getting along after they make sora cry ((maybe out of frustration bc they were always arguing or fighting)) and learn they have a ton in common

(Anon.  What the fuck.  Why would you make me do this to Sora?

…but okay.  Here you go.)

_______________

Sometimes, life was like glass–fragile and easily broken. Other times, no matter how hard Roxas slammed the bottle against a tile counter, it just refused to fucking break.

Sometimes–like now–it was a bit of both.  

Staring at his long-time best friend on the brink of tears, he could do nothing but glare at their only mutual friend where he stood leering sidelong at the floor from his place leaned stoically against the wall.  

With his hands folded across his chest, Riku looked angrier than he had any right being considering he was the one who started this whole fucking thing.  If he had just listened to Roxas the last eight-hundred times he told him to leave him the fuck alone, maybe Sora wouldn’t look like someone had kicked his goddamn puppy.

But no.  Of course not.  

Because Riku just had to march his ass into the gym at the exact same time Roxas was using it to conveniently skip class and he just had to give him that fucking look like he was the worst piece of garbage on this fucking green Earth. And yeah, okay, maybe he had jumped the gun when he asked him what the fuck he was looking at, but could you blame him?  

How Sora could even put up with accusatory looks like that was fucking beyond him, but then again, with all the glares pointed at him, maybe Sora didn’t know the all-consuming rage it brought along with it.

He certainly did now–if Riku’s bloody nose was anything to go by.   Though–and Roxas would never admit this out loud–Riku had managed to slug him a good couple times before their friend came to the rescue.  

Then–then–he had the audacity to tell him he was fucking lucky.  What bullshit!   Lucky for who?  Himself, maybe, because Roxas was just getting warmed up.

“Stop it!”

Roxas paled as the Brunet tried–and failed–to compose himself with a sniffling breath.  “Stop what?  I’m not even doing anything!”

“I know you, Roxas!  Don’t you dare try and tell me that if I wasn’t standing right here, you wouldn’t go right back to fighting him!”  

Oh, no, there was no question about that.

So, he stayed silent and let that glassy glare bore right through to his soul as Sora seethed, “that’s what I thought.” A low growl that had no right coming out of Sora’s mouth–of all places–was followed by a drag of hands down sun-kissed skin.  “You guys cannot keep doing this.  It was okay when you were just teenagers, but we are about to graduate University, guys!  You’re too old for this shit!”

Oh, fuck.  Riku and Roxas shared the same wide-eyed look from across the gym as that one out-of-place word set off alarm bells in both their minds.  

But before either of them could dare say a word to try and assuage the obvious hue of anger dusting the Brunet’s cheeks, he was already huffing out the last signs of tears from his lungs and staring them both down with hands poised dangerously on his hips.

“Look,” he began with a sharp edge, “This is the last time.  I want to be friends with both of you without biting my nails any time I want to invite the both of you.   I’m not asking for much, here.  I don’t care if you hate each other, just figure shit out so you don’t get me arrested as an accomplice in murder.

“Now,” and he clapped his hands loud enough that they both nearly jumped, “I’m gonna give you guys some time alone.  Talk.  Fight. Blow each other.  I don’t fucking care, just…please.  I will not choose between the two of you.”  

With that, the Brunet stalked over to the door and left two behind to stare at his wake.

The click of the door shutting came with a tension that settled in a miasma between them thicker than any mystery meat the cafeteria back in Twilight Town had ever served.  It was suffocating.  Debilitating.  But it also came with a punch to the gut that had Roxas right back into the same fight-or-flight response that got them into this mess in the first place.

His conscience told him, this is where you say sorry, but the devil sitting pretty on his shoulder whispered, make him eat shit and grovel.  

Guess which one he fucking chose.   “This is all your fault.”

“Excuse me?”  At least Riku had the decency to sound as annoyed as Roxas felt.  “You attacked me, remember?  All I did was open the fucking door!”

“Oh, horseshit!  You could’ve just ignored me and gone somewhere else!”

“Where else would you like me to go, huh?”

“Literally anywhere I’m not!”  

“Well, sorry to break it to you, Roxas, I don’t know where the fuck you are at every fucking hour of the goddamn day!   I know this might be hard for your paranoid mind to understand, but sometimes, I actually do shit that doesn’t revolve around you.  Most of the time, in fact!”

Okay, that did it.   “What the actual fuck, Reek?  You make it sound like I’m obsessed with you or something!”

“Oh, like you’re not?”  Roxas actually reeled back at that one.  Is that how it seemed?  Like he had a-a-grade school crush or something?  

“Fuck no!  Eww, why the fuck would I ever be obsessed with you?!”

Green jades narrowed into a piercing leer.  “You’ve been the bane of my existence since we were fourteen-fucking-years-old.  Any time I tried to just hang out with Sora, you’d get all defensive–”

“Yeah, because you hogged him all to yourself!  You literally threw a tantrum for three days straight because he asked Kairi to the Beach Ball instead of you!” Riku made rolling his eyes somehow look like the most dramatic action in the entire world.   It only pissed Roxas off more that he actually made it look–dare he say it–good.

“And what about you, huh?  You quit Hayner cold turkey for three whole months because he called Sora stupid once.”

“He fucking deserved that shit.” A slight quirk at the corner of Riku’s lips almost pulled a bit of pride from Roxas.  It was so cynical and maniacal–the kind of dark expression the Silveret seemed to reserve only for him.

Only for me?  What the fuck, brain?  No!

“I never said he didn’t, did I?”  Shifting where he stood leaned against the opposite wall, worn sneakers squeaked against the wood floor louder than if one of them had screamed.  It made the distance lingering between them seem even larger than when Sora had been standing in the dead center of it.  Made it feel unnecessary when they were supposedly in the middle of an argument.

But Roxas refused to be the one who closed it.  Adamantly refused.    “Then why the fuck are you bringing it up?”

“You air my dirty laundry, I air yours.” That cocky little smirk.  It stuck there as Riku finally came off his perch and stood tall with a confidence he often swallowed when around his friends.   A suaveness that had once–a long time ago–made him think, I wish I could be that cool.

“What’s next, then?  Wanna remind me of the time I nearly got my own ass jumped by Seifer because I caught him talking shit about Sora?  Or maybe you’d rather tell me about the time that you called me selfish for blowing him off on his birthday!”

“You made him cry on his Birthday! What else did you expect me to do?  You didn’t even have a good excuse!”  

On the contrary, Roxas had a perfectly good excuse.  He had simply refused to explain over the phone how Lea and Isa had been fighting for weeks and that he was honestly afraid their engagement was one bad argument away from lapsing and his entire home life of falling to shit.  Refused to let himself cry on Sora’s shoulder on his Birthday, when he should be happy and stuffing his face with cake.   Or to hear his best friend calmly say, “the party can wait one more night.  You need me more right now,” when he knew that the Brunet had been waiting literal months for that sleepover.

Fat lot of good lying had done him.  Sora had ignored him for a solid week afterwards, and even Riku had refused to look at him.  The only cherry on top of a bad life had been two weeks later, when Riku finally got up the balls to confront him and Roxas got the honor of fracturing his wrist during the ensuing fight.

Not one of his finer moments, but it had certainly gotten a lot of problems off his back in one foul swoop.  

“Whatever, Asshole.  You’re prol’ly still angry I won that fight.”

“Believe it or not, Roxas, that was probably one of the only times I actually respected you.”  

Letting out a harsh bark of a laugh, the Blonde felt his fists ball at his sides.  “Excuse me?”

“You missed that party for him, not you, and I could see the pain it caused written all over your face.  Until then, I really thought you were just a selfish git, but no narcissist could feel that much guilt. In retrospect,” he sighed offhandedly with another of those classy eye-rolls, “I guess I should’ve realized you’d never miss a chance to hang out with Sora without good reason, considering you followed him like a love-struck puppy all the time.”

“Who told you?” It came out weaker than he intended it to.  He wanted it to sound bitter and deadly, but it instead sounded fragile.  Like the bottle he’d been slamming against the kitchen sink was finally on its way to cracking open.

Right now, Riku looked no better.  “I…heard some rumors from one of the members of the Swim Team.  Said they’d had a big break-up right around the same time.”

“And clever little fucking you put the pieces together.”

“Look,” Riku sighed, pushing back the long waves of his platinum hair with equally long fingers, “we obviously have our differences and I don’t wanna be your friend anymore than you probably want to be mine–” Roxas’s harsh laugh cut him off just long enough to elicit a warning glance before he continued–”but I’m not losing Sora because we’re both stubborn pieces of shit.”

“A-fucking-men.”  Scratching angrily at the back of his neck, Roxas glared back at Riku.  “So, what do you propose?”

“A truce.”

Roxas snorted.  “A truce?  What’s next?  A goddamn treaty?  We gonna have to bring in a fucking banker to Notarize it?”

“If we have to, yes.”

“Holy shit,” the Blonde breathed, “you’re fucking serious.”

“Yes,” the Silveret confirmed with another of those piercing leers, “as serious as a heart attack.”  

Huffing out the air from his chest in an oof, Roxas ruffled the messy strands of his unkempt hair and cautiously took a couple steps into the gaping delta between them.   Riku took two of his own, and like pieces on a chessboard, they slowly closed the distance remaining until it was just the two of them–alone in an open room–with nothing but a foot of air between them.  

The last time they’d been this close, Roxas had literally punched the air out of his chest and kneed this fucker in the nose.  Literally about five minutes ago.

Speaking of which, “I’m not gonna say sorry for your nose.”

Riku rolled his eyes.  “I didn’t think you would.”

“If that’s a stipulation of the truce, I’m not agreeing to it.”

“I want your apology even less than you want to give it.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Fucking perfect.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake–can we just shake on this so we can leave with our friendship to Sora in tact?  Please?”  Roxas felt his lips tilt into a snarky grin against his will.

“Is this what I’ve reduced you to, Reek?  Fucking begging?” Jade daggers honed in on his jugular with an accuracy that was almost terrifying when they were close enough the Silveret could actually get a clean shot for his vitals.  Dare he say it, Roxas was almost…proud?

Fuck it.  

Reaching out a hand, Roxas let the grin twist into a challenging smirk.  “I, Roxas, hereby agree to not start shit with you while in the presence of Sora.  This includes–” he faked a gag that earned him a reprimanding slap to the back of his head and his own little demonic laugh–”occasionally engaging you in conversation if the occasion demands it.”

“You know, I’m not that bad.”

“Certainly are easy on the eyes.”

“Did you just–”

“Shake my fucking hand, Reeks.  I ain’t got all damn day.”  

Rolling his eyes, Riku slapped his hand into his and gripped it tight enough to almost earn him a wince.  Never one to be outdone, Roxas squeezed back with enough force to have the Swimmer glaring bloody murder at his would-be corpse.   “I, Riku, too, hereby agree to not start or answer shit with you while in the presence of Sora.  Should that mean putting up with your fucking bullshit–”

“You love me, admit it.”

“Never said I didn’t.”

“Wait–”

“–Then so fucking be it.”

“Alright, now kiss already!”  Never had the two broken apart faster than they did as Xion’s mirthful voice echoed through the empty walls of the gym.  

While Riku maintained a composed air about him, Roxas gaped at the little traitor where she clapped mischievously from her spot beside a cheeky-looking Sora.   With his hands clasped behind his head and that victorious expression painted across his fucking face, the Brunet was–for once–almost unbearable to look at.  

Gazing sidelong at Riku, the Blonde seethed, “this feel like a fucking set-up to you?”

The Silveret shrugged his broad shoulders and pushed his head forward in a playful tease as he walked toward them.  “And you say you’re not paranoid.”

“Hey!  Fuck you, asshole!  I am not paranoid!”  

And just like that, Roxas threw the glass bottle over his shoulder and forgot to listen for the shatter while he ran after his new acquaintance.  

#rikuroku #riku #roxas #kingdom hearts #prompt time #i actually loved writing this #writing sassy rikuroku is my lifeblood

[winniethebadbih]

Afraid (Kouda x Reader)

Is this the first imagine on this guy? Show him some luv. Timeline-During the USJ Attack. Rated PG-13. Graphic imagery, blood. (sum nudity tho) ((not sexual)) Quirk- Wolf/Werewolf. We luv angst.

"I'll scatter you across this facility to meet my comrades and your DEATH!" 'Iida pulled uraraka and Satou out and After that most of us were in cased in a dark miasma that sent us in different places in the USJ.' You thought. You landed in the Squall Zone it was raining profusely. You were standing back to back with Tokoyami and Kouda, surrounded by villains. 

"There aren't any animals around so that means we must protect Kouda" you said to Tokoyami. "Right! We'll watch your 6 find the exit so we can regroup with the others." he replied.*Sniff* *Sniff* "C'mon Kouda this way I can lead us out because Rikidou smells like cake and sugar rrrruff" He simply nodded and followed closely. With your claws protruded running of all fours you pounced from villain to villain letting tokoyami and dark shadow take care of them while their dazed. You guys had great quirks but theirs were ones to laugh at either. The rain hitting your snout wasn't helping you lock on to the sugary scent. 'Maybe if I let the wolf take over a little more- No out of the question.' you thought continuing to run. When you turned behind you to check on Kouda you lost him. "Heh ha!" a villain came down from a nearby roof and almost got the jump on you emitting knives from his hands. You jumped out of the way only getting a scratch on the cheek. *Yelp* Another one appeared around the corner he was big & brony and tried to grab you. They backed you into an alleyway. 'I guess there's no other way around it huh?' you asked yourself. "Ah come on, ya scared little puppy?" while the other one joked "I thought I smelled and wet dog." 

With each word your voice grew more hoarse and your H/c fur stood on end, Your eyes reddened as you proclaimed "Im a freaking wolf RRRRrrr!" You grew three times your size, ripping through your costume that had not yet been perfected to grow with you. "GGGGRRRR" *Snarls* you bounded on each of them before they had a chance to attack. You picked up the villain that called you a dog with your mouth and shook him wildly throwing him into a wall. This was it, now you had a taste for blood. "OOOW-OOOOOW-OOOOOOOOOOW!"

Kouda's POV

*Gasp* "Y/n-chan is gone!" I said to tokoyami. "Do you know which direction she went?" I shook my head no. He asked his shadow "Whatever Beats Me" it replied. Listen Kouda Dark shadow is more aggressive when the light level is low so that explains why it's acting this way now. He's stronger as well too, Stay close, we must find y/n she could be in dang-" we hear a loud "OOOW-OOOOOW-OOOOOOOOOW" 

Out loud "I Wonder if the night aggression is the same for y/n-chan." "Only one way to find out" he added. We followed the howling. This was somewhat a good thing y/n was bringing the villains toward her. Hopefully defeating them. Tokoyami was commanding dark shadow to take out the onward villains. We heard a faint "Help Me" coming from the alleyway to the right. We neared the man to see that his arm was pretty much dismembered from his body and he was clearly bleeding out. "S-She was capable of this-s?" I asked Tokoyami already knowing the answer. "This is a little more unnerving than dark shadow catching an attitude." We backed away from the dying villain we currently didn't have the time to save a villain when we had to save ourselves.  

The further we went the thicker the trail of blood got. "The howling stopped" Dark shadow announced. "Y/n?" Tokoyami suggested. "Grrrr" was what I heard from behind as I turned to see y/n-chan leaping our direction. Tokoyami pushed me out of the way as he jumped back to avoid her claws. "It's as bad as I expected! Kouda run I'll try to reason with her!" tokoyami grunted dodging another pounce. I had started to run but memories of y/n-chan flooded in my head~

~FlashBack~

~Sometime during recess in elementary 

"Why don't you talk?" "How come all your friends are birds and squirrels" "Ahhhhh *rasberry*" 

"Your-r y-your s-scaring them" I finally spoke up. "HA ITS SPEAKS!" They all laughed around me in a circle as I cowarded between my legs. Then everyone directed their attention to a squeaky "HEY!" "Well if it isn't the pipsqueak of the class." "Aren't you a little tiny for a fifth grader?" "Rrrr ruff ruff!" "L/n the runt!" "Another one of your furry little friends?" "Except this one probably has rabies!" "I don't care what you say about me but leave Koji-kun alone!" "Or wha-" without hesitation she pounced of one of the bullies but the rest coming to his rescue, she was gonna get jumped and it would be all because of me. 

I ran to get the teacher. When we returned, we found that everyone was roughed up and dirty. "Now Apologize! Rrrr!" All in unison "Were sorry Kouda!" All of them had scratches and bruises, while L/n just had bruises. The teacher scolded her *whimper* and said she was gonna call home before taking the 4 boys to the nurse's office. "Koji-kun are you okay?" 'Me?! she just took on 4 boys that were bigger than her and won! That girl isn't afraid of anything' "Y-yeah" "You call me if you ever need help again, okay? From now on we're friends!"

~And we have been ever since End FlashBack~

'I can't run away from my friend in need it's my turn to save her.' I turned the corner twice coming back towards tokoyami. 'This can only get worse if they both lose control of their quirks' currently dark Shadow had her in a choke hold. "Tokoyami it might be easier for me to get through to her by talking to her wolf side!" "Sounds like a plan! But hurry!" I run into y/n-chans field of vision, "Y/n can you hear me!" she begins thrashing about trying to get free. "Tokoyami tell Dark Shadow to let her go!" "No it's far to dangerous" he cautioned. "Maybe not for me-" I looked her in the eyes we're friends." Panting she thrashed about again. "She's afraid"  "OOOOW!" "If I must, Dark shadow!" "Ughhhh" it sneered. 

"Y/n why are you afraid?" she hoped from her hind legs to front paws a couple of times claws tapping the pavement. "It's a part of who you are!" she spun around twice "ARRrr." "There's no huge personality difference from the more human you and the wolf!" "GGGRRRR!" 'she didn't like that at all' "Are you afraid of what others will think of you?" *whimper* and she got low and covered her face with her paws. "Y/n" I said walking toward her. "Grrrrrr" 'she doesn't want me getting too close, well too bad' I reached my hand out to pat her head but she bit me.

"Kouda!" Tokoyami screeched. "No! I'm okay she's not biting that hard." "grr." I looked at her eyes that now seemed calmer. "Y/n your quirk doesn't define who you are, your're the one using it, and for a greater good and you always have. Nothing could change my mind about you. It may not be the most innocent thing but the gruesome way fits your personality much better because your both gentle and aggressive. "I'm your best friend, and I will always stick by your side no matter what. I love you." She began to shrink down to her usual self, still biting my hand. She let go with her teeth and grabbed it again with her paws. She said in between sobs "H-how is it y-you knew the exact words I want-needed to hear?" "I told you I'm your best friend, I'm not going anywhere."

'sHe'S nAkEd' 'SHE'S NAKED' 'I'M NAKED'

You quickly reverted back to full wolf form, signaling for Kouda to get on your back. Tokoyami mentions "We've got more company" "Grrr" We all braced ourselves. But thank god it was the pro heroes!

#mha #kojific #bnha #xreader