#'oh cool art of melon let me go to that tag and see whats going on' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

Text

Dawn (2)

Loki x fem!Reader

ONE/TWO/THREE SHOT

Warnings: mention of past trauma and fluff.

Summary: A truce to end all wars leads to an alliance between Earth and Asgard in the form of Loki marrying a mortal. None of them what this. None except fate.

Word Count: sleep is nice. Water is super nice. music is dope nice. weather is siren-like nice. not being able to meet my dogs? not nice.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"Is it really necessary to do this? All of this?"

"It's a custom created by the Allfather, your grace," answers the handmaiden that helps you into the soft gold of a dress that seems to be way too over the top for something as simple as breakfast.

"Your Allfather needs to get laid," you whisper loud enough for her to hear and turn red.

"I beg your pardon, your grace?"

You whine as you watch yourself in the gigantic mirror in the bathroom. "Nothing. Come on, let's go."

She picks up your clothes from last night and the bags that have your belongings from the earth. "Where are you going with those?"

She turns around and bows a little. "To clean them all up, your grace. The Prince said that they might have been sullied with the party they arrived."

"Loki?"

"No, your grace. Prince Thor."

"...okay? Anyway, where do you guys have lunch?"

"In the kitchen, your grace."

"Cool. I'll join you guys there."

"B-but your grace!"

"You don't have to end every sentence with your grace, Sybll. Okay?"

"...y-yes, your-"

"What?"

"...yes."

"Okay. See you later, Sybll."

You shut the door behind you, leaving the poor young handmaiden's heart pumping as she tries to make sense of what has happened.

"See you...your grace," she whispers in the empty room.

"Oh, no, thank you, dear," you blurt, bringing your hand up to avoid the servant from serving an entire lobster- at least that's what it looks like- to you, "no...no meat for me, please."

Odin seems to be taken aback a little by that request. And a smile is the only thing you can conjure up.

Where. The fuck. Is everyone else?

The large table feels a tad much for the two of you. Not mention the nausea you are feeling from overthinking about Odin's internal judgements about you.

"Is everything all right, Y/N?" Odin finally asks, the half-eaten berry resting in between his fingers and thumb.

"Yes, sir, I mean, your majesty," you stutter, feeling yourself punching in the gut for screwing the first words coming out of you in front of him.

"Do you not like to eat meat, then?"

No father-in-law, it's just that all meat comes out as vomit when I am nervous.

"I...have a sensitive stomach."

"Huh," is all he bothers to state before going back to his berry.

So all you have on your plate now is leaves and fruits sitting as the subject for an art session.

"The gardens of the palace are beautiful, s-your majesty," you mention, remembering the flowers in full bloom you saw this morning.

"Ah, yes," he exclaims with a delight, "Frigga used to take great care of them. It is all of her hard work that blooms in those soils. Like it does in my sons."

You nod, taking a piece of watermelon and filling your mouth with it. "Mmhmm."

"You must think of me as some foolish old bastard for my way of doing things, like...like joining two worlds in a peace treaty through marriage, don't you, young lady?"

All you can do is gulp down the melon sitting unchewed in your mouth as you look at him with a blank expression.

"For an inexperienced mind like yours does not understand how crucial it is to stand united in the face of adversity."

You nod with your mouth full. "You're right. I don't. So, if you don't mind me asking, what was Frigga like?"

The lines on Odin's forehead change and he is back in time to some fond memory while he moves his food around his fingers. "Frigga was gentle as the first cool breeze that soothes you at the crack of the dawn, my dear. She was my rock. She kept Asgard running even when I was not there. That too while she had two young notorious sons to take care of." He chuckles silently and looks into some distant void, letting the sun reflect on the moisture at the edge of his eye. "She loved Loki like her own son. When the world saw a monster in him, she saw an innocent soul that needed the love and care of a mother. She taught him all the magic she knew. She had a way with him, with his mind that was always in a different direction than the rest of us. Whether she knew him or not, she did her best to make him a better version of himself."

"Would she have agreed to this truce?"

The words are out sooner than you realise and Odin is out of the trance he was a while back, the eye losing its hues.

"My sons will do what I say, woman. They are the pride of Asgard. The reflection of what expanded my kingdom and its peace stands for. And Frigga would have agreed with me. With whatever decision I took."

The words crawl over your shoulders like ants. Your nails are scraping the edges of the pie crust as silence seems to erode any feelings of respect between the two of you.

"I bet he is your reflection as well, Loki-" you stress on his name with a tilt of his head- "I bet he was your reflection that day too when he was a child and you told him he was no good as a warrior and he'd rather go hide in his mother's skirt."

The clatter of fork and knives stops. So does the breath of every servant present in the vicinity, discreetly looking at their Allfather for any reaction.

"He was your reflection when the boys from the streets teased him for being so weak for a Prince. And when he could not take the insult anymore, he used his magic to teach them proper manners. Hm?"

You pick up the chalice of wine kept for you, squeezing an orange into it before taking a generous sip. "He was also your reflection the day Thor was to be crowned king-" you smacked your lips, keeping the chalice down with a thud- "and the day he let the wormhole swallow him?"

The air is heavy. Heavier than any third person can take.

"You might be sitting in a seat of privilege, woman, but do not forget you are speaking to your king." His tone is soft but the intended weight with which they flow is not.

"Yes. I do realise my place, my king. I am but a mere human tied to a son you deem unworthy of serving any purpose to you. But here's the thing, your highness-" you look Odin in the eye, your face losing every feeling- "I am not Frigga, Gods rest her soul."

The napkin resting on your lap is crumpled in your hand before being left on the plate as you get up, dragging your chair back and turning around to collide with the servant coming with a pitcher of wine.

His apologies are cut short by you, assuring him it's no big deal before turning back to the Allfather. "It was a good talk, your majesty," you state with a full-blown bow.

"Oh and one more thing! Loki does not have some different brains that you cannot figure out. He just thinks seven steps ahead of everyone else. I found out through observation. And the one time we both had to escape being killed. You should try it sometimes too."

And with that declaration, you walk out of the hall, leaving a stunned silence with an audience and a King sitting with heartburn.

FUCK!

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DOOOOO!!!!!

Your steps cannot match your heart rate at this point as you try to make your way back to Loki's room. And the constant flashbacks to the conversation you just had do not help. At all. If only the ground would crack open and swallow you right now.

You really need to keep your issues with controlling fathers in check, woman!

Well, TOO LATE! you yell back at your inner voice.

The corridors are a blur. So are the voices of people asking you if you're okay.

You didn't have to defend him like that.

You try to shove your inner voice away.

What do you even know about him?

You can finally see the door to your sanctuary, and your steps get faster than they already are.

What is Odin going to do to you now?

Opening the door, you throw yourself inside before shutting it back and letting the whimpers of weakened shallow breaths become audible.

"Okay, breathe. Breathe breathe breathe-" you take in a lungful- "yes, breathe."

Five times more and your heart finally finds a rhythm for your brain to function a bit better, bringing your attention to the wetness you feel on your stomach and realise you're still in the soiled dress with a huge blotch of wine stain colouring it in an ugly tone.

Undoing the knots around you, you walk to the bathroom to change into clean clothes and realise only when you are standing naked in there that all your clothes have been taken for a wash.

Perfect.

Your palms are rubbed hard against your face with frustrated groans before you catch a glimpse of the black fabric lying on top of one of Loki’s drawers; the one he wore last night.

Oh, screw it.

The cotton shirt slides over you with ease, flowing till your thighs, though the thin fabric barely covers much. With that taken care of, you walk over to the other drawers and cabinets to find anything else you can wear for the moment.

“Where were you two?!”

“Good to see you too, Sif,” Thor comments with a tone of sarcasm as a fuming Sif walks over to the brothers getting down from their horses.

“We went to inspect the new territories under Vanaheim. There was a little disturbance there last night,” Loki mentions as he twists and adjusts his shoulder with a muted grunt. No one notices for there are other pressing matters at hand.

“The Allfather is fuming because of your absence at breakfast today. Especially since-” she pauses to look at Loki and point out at him in general, which reasonably confuses both the brothers- “and on top of that things went downhill from here thanks to that woman.”

Now, this leads to the brothers to furrow their brows at Sif.

“Downhill how?” Thor asks.

“Spare no details,” Loki adds.

“This...is...hilarious.” Loki guffaws as he ends the sentence and this time Thor is the one to roll his eyes.

“It is still hard to believe Y/N would do something like this,” the blond states.

“Oh, Thor,” Loki purrs with a jump in his step, making his brother automatically uncomfortable, “it’s not that hard to believe once you realise she has lived the better part of her life with Stark. She has learned the snark from the best.”

“How do you even know what that word means?” Thor gasps in frustration. He opens his mouth to follow it up with a contradiction before pausing to run Loki’s words in his mind, hating the smirk building over his brother’s lips as realisation dawns on him.

“I need to talk to her about this-”

“WOAH! Woah! Easy brother,” Loki exclaims, stopping him with a hand on his chest, pausing the steps just outside the younger one’s room, “are you sure you want to do that?”

“What do you mean? Of course-”

“Thor-” Loki pats his brother’s chest as a gesture of patience- “first, talk to her only if you yourself have never defied your father.”

Thor looks at Loki with judgment-filled eyes, getting his brother’s index finger to wait and listen for more. “Second, talk to her with the thought that she barely has been here for a day and she has to spend the rest of her life here. Away from everything she knows.”

This, somehow, dilutes the smoke rising from the embers inside Thor. Loki isn’t wrong after all. “And third, don’t follow me inside. I am going to take a long shower.”

“Wha-”

“What? Sybll said Y/N told her she’ll join her for lunch in the kitchen. Now off you go,” he shoos his brother away with his hands before shutting his bedroom door behind him.

A chuckle leaves him involuntarily as he recalls Sif’s word by word description of how it all went down in the dining hall.

Good for her , he wonders, taking his armour off, there will be something to keep Odin and Thor occupied.

The arm plate stops short from landing on the table with a thud as a thought stirs in Loki’s mind, slowly invading his heart through the tiniest of veins. Letting the arm plate softly rest on the table, he lets his fingers grab the back of his doublet to remove it.

Why did she defend me in front of Odin?

The summer breeze from outside takes the first chance it gets to rub itself all over the naked chest and back of the God lost in a puzzle which isn’t that hard to solve once he has all the pieces.

Right. Forgot she had a mad father too. What was it that Stark said we were? Two kids with daddy issues.

Shaking his head, his fingers undo the first button on his pants when he hears a soft clunk from somewhere within the room. And the relaxed cat becomes the predator within a flash.

Why does he have so many greens and blacks?

The drawers and closets in front of all have nothing but those hues. Wait, is he colourblind?

Grunting and stomping your feet for not finding anything you could borrow from your ‘husband’s’ clothing, you close all that is opened and start to move towards the bedroom to call for Sybll for a change of clothes when faint voices are heard outside followed by a door being shut.

It takes a lot for your heart to jump in your mouth; and right now, that lot is Loki walking in the room with a smile, undoing his armour while looking at some invisible void in the distance.

Fuck!

You could not go out in front of him like this. In his nightshirt that was barely covering your assets.

Hiding behind the archway next to an Oakwood drawer, you take a peek at the God lost in some thought. There is a faint smile on his unexpectedly pink lips. What is he thinking? That thought runs away and hides in a corner as soon as it sees long pale fingers are pulling away the doublet from above his head to reveal a bod sculpted in some mountains of divine beauty not meant for the naked eye.

Your breath gets caught in the moment of revelation. Wasn't he supposed to be...frail? At least that's what you thought when you first saw him. But now that you think about it, anyone and everyone looks frail in front of Thor. But never in your life would you have thought that all that layer of clothing hid a figure like this.

You won a lottery, woman , your inner voice nudges and winks at you before it is pushed into a dark corner. Though I feel bad for him for getting stuck with you , it shouts as it fades into the darkness. The muscles on his back shift when he rolls his shoulders and you feel your insides shudder. Does Asgard realise what they're missing under all that leather? Is what you question till you see marks and bruises that seem old- healed but not so thoroughly. Hmm, everything with him has a reason, doesn't it?

Your daylight musing seems to crack as you realise- with his back to you- he is about to open his pants.

No matter how enticing it seems to the dark corners of your brain, you draw yourself back from the archway, colliding straight into a drawer. You IDIOT!!

Moving on your toes, silent as a cat, your steps go backwards, past the drawers and lux bathtubs towards the balcony while your eyes stay on the archway, waiting for your heart to stop any moment that Loki showed his face through it.

One step back and you are in the balcony, your feet feeling the cold stone under them while your back collides into something equally cold and rigid. And it does not raise all those tiny hairs on your body till you can feel that cold rise and fall rise in your back.

MOTHERF-

The siren voice of the night sings right into your ear.

"Looking for someone?"

176 notes · View notes

pinkykitten · 4 years

Text

I was tagged by @writing-with-melon I hope my answers aren’t complete waste or if time and if so I’m sorry and I love you

Rules: Answer ten 10 questions, ask 10, and tag 10 people

1. What song automatically plays in your head when you look out the window on a long drive?

i dont really have an answer for this. i think i just automatically think about any song ive been listening to recently or any song that has been stuck in my head.

2. Do you have some snacks nearby when you write?

well i live in a two story house so the kitchen is downstairs and im usually lazy busy so since i have a mini fridge upstairs i just usually get water to drink while im writing. its kinda hard to eat and write cuz i loose focus really easily so when i am writing i am writing! i am in the zone! but if i am a little hungry ill usually snack on candy like chocolate kinder joys i love them but they r so expensive or snack on chips but i get like salt on my fingers or i like cheetos so cheetos dust and that just gets everywhere and later my hands and keyboard kinda smell like fart. 3. What do you do to combat creative burnout?

so burnout happens to me a lot so to get inspiration i either read other stories or fanfics which gets my head gears turning or i admire a piece of art or photography or a song. whats so unique and satisfying with writing you can explore and go anywhere with it, hehehe erotic if you know what i mean lol jk there are no barriers with writing just your imagination. there is inspiration any where you go and id advise to never stop writing. even if its a few short sentences or paragraphs about anything even bird poop its still progression and your mind is working and your searching for words like its all good for you bby. 4. Do you use (or like to use) prompts?

i do ill put the link here. im thinking of changing it though to do something different.

5. What is your favorite place to write?

lol boring, i know but my room. my room is really bright in the mornings and comfortable and chill and i have a candle of the pandora ride in disney that smells like the ride so its all good and relaxing and super peaceful plus i have a picture of myself the age of like 9 on my desk idk why but it encourages me and makes me focus to make sure i never get that cringy again.

6. What is a hobby or yous that you usually don’t talk about?

well i like working out HAHAHAHAHA jk that was a joke...get it...cuz i much rather be eatingokillstop. but i really like to draw which i have a art page you can see it if you click here pls look at my failed attempts to be hip and cool with the cool kids and being artsy fartsy. another hobby is i really like to do makeup and nail art, nail art is really tough guys no joke if you do it like you got wizard powers are something. maybe its bc my nails are shorter than pete davidson and ariana grande’s relationship, alright im trying to stop i swear!

7. Do you play an instrument? Which one?

no i wish though. i always wanted to learn to either play the piano or electric guitar cuz H.E.R looks so cool doing it.

8. How do you feel about your handwriting?

it sucks dont even try me. my sister can barely read it like no wonder nobody wants to steal my signature heck they can’t even read it!

9. Can you tell us of a story that marked your development as a person? As a writer?

ok sit back guys, sniff a nice amount of crack and get ready for the most cringy moment of my life but also a time when i knew i was meant to be *inhale* a fanfic writer.

so it was elementary school, i think 3rd grade and for my writing assignment we were given a prompt of idk what the heck tbh i think it was like be outside the box and im like ok imma nail this cuz im a weird child and yeah so i got my papers and pencil and i went TO TOWN on this paper. so i wrote two stories. one short story with a picture to go with it and one long story that yeah i buried years ago. so my first story was about a farmer was about that farming life. he had chickens and dairy. so i cant remember if the cheese was spoiled but doesnt matter. anywho these cheese and a chicken were alive like they could talk in the story and i gave them faces, yikes. but the whole story was the farmer was a b*tch and he was trying to eat the chicken and cheese so they hatched a plan to get away from the farmer. they did it successfully and they ran away. yay happy ending my teacher actually liked that one me too and my school mates were thinking what they heck is this girl on i made a story about how me and justin bieber made cookies for Christmas you know. so then my other story i was more proud of this one cuz it was a tone of paper, sorry trees, and this story was about how a female hippo (girl i was all about plus size and thicker girls and no body shaming) and an male ostrich were kidnapped from their own habitats and taken to become circus animals. failed version of Madagascar hey mine was before the circus movie OK THEY STOLE IT FROM MEEEEE. so they get taken and are treated to harsh punishment and the animals can talk and i think its in the point of view of the male ostrich guy thing. they are in the circus and they start to have this relationship happening. love starts blossoming its all good. im happy with this cuz i believed in love at age of 8. they find a way thru a kick butt scene of the animals escaping and the hippo and ostrich are so in love that they run away together and they have half hippo half ostrich babies and i think i named the species hipstrich or like ostppo idk but i was so proud of this story and when my teacher read it she was worried about me lol i think she thought i might like mate these two animals like secretly idk but she was like it was ok and i was like what this is frickin William Shakespeare writing or like F. Scott Fitzgerald writing. nevertheless it taught me a lesson that nobody else needs to like what im writing the main point and only thing that matters is if your proud of it and you like it and i really did. i will remember that story forever and thats what made me want to be a writer. lol sorry that was a lot.

10. @emdop I’m going to use this great question: Explain one of your WIPs in the most ridiculous way possible.

wellllll im working on my peaky blinders oc story its a lot of drugs money killing weapons jewelry rich profanities like its the show but written from my stubby hands so my oc and whatever its great and so excited to show it to you guys.

MY QUESTIONS:

1. WHAT MADE YOU WANT TO START TUMBLR?

2. IF YOU COULD CHANGE ANYTHING OF THIS WORLD, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

3. WHAT QUALITY IS IMPORTANT TO YOU?

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE OUTFIT?

5. WHAT MAKES YOU SMILE?

6. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SONG IN THE WHOLE WORLD?

7. IF YOU COULD VISIT A PLACE, WHERE WOULD IT BE?

8. WHAT SHOW OR MOVIE UNIVERSE WOULD YOU WANT TO BE IN?

9. WHAT IS THE SCARIEST MOMENT OF YOUR LIFE?

10. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE IN THIS WORLD THAN ANYTHING ELSE?

im tagging: @thatlittlered, @ardentmuse, @acciosnapes, @lotsoffandomimagines, @collecting-stories, @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms, @naughtyneganjdm, @lenahellgizibe and two random followers @spiritsent, @sucker-for-my-fandoms

i was tagged by @writing-with-melon again ty btw, ps i felt so much pressure lol jk 😊

Rules: Answer 5 questions, Ask 5 questions, Tag 5 people.

1. What is your favorite book?

fifty shades of grey hahaha naw my favorite book is obv you all know this is series of unfortunate events but i never usually cry period and i never cry for books ever so when i read mrs. tom thumb by melanie benjamin, its the part when her sister minnie dies i cried so hard idk it was just emotional the wording the way she described her pain it was so beautiful written yet so sad and that was just amazing to me cuz im like this book made me feel things and im like wow i would love to write a book one day and make someone feel something whether it be sadness anger happiness annoyance anything they are having an emotion and that is super powerful to do that with just words. pls go check out that book its a good read. also im a fan of the greatest showman so i really enjoyed it. there are many other books tho that i thoroughly enjoy so much.

2. What piece that you’ve written are you most proud of?

oh my god ive always wanted to be asked this question hands down i am always proud of my platonic gender neutral tony stark fic called in·con·sol·a·ble window to me i wrote it so sad and i was feeling like depressed lol when i saw peter die in infinity war like i didnt know what to do with my life tbh but im so glad that @impetrichorny requested it tysm i just like how its not based on romance or fluff or happiness it is based on when you lose someone the nightmares and sadness you go through and that there is nothing nobody can do about it except just be there for that person so i really like writing angst and something that was out of the box. ive been thinking tho of doing a part two since the fate of all the characters has changed after endgame. who knows tho.

3. What is the last song that inspired you?

well for art it would have to good news by mac miller when i did that kobe bryant memorial on my art page. i dont want to give it away though but ill just say some very powerful womens music inspired my oc writing and making.

4. How do you feel about letting people read what you write?

at first i was scared cuz i thought i wrote like trash which that feeling kinda doesnt go away like some days i feel that way others i feel confident or it depends on the request it just depends but anyways i was always insecure about my writing so when i started writing it was more like lets see how this goes if not ill delete the whole page. im glad to say it went great but in the begging it was hard cuz i kept putting myself down but i learned to accept or just understand that you keep learning with writing you always learn knew things with writing how you can explain something better or you words get more intricate and people see the improvement and you do too thats why i applaud those who dont speak english that english isnt their first language. you are doing a tremendous job and keep practicing cuz you’re gonna make it to the top. ive also learned that some days are not my days and you can take time off when youre not feeling it when you have writers block. just recollect your juices sip some tea go to the beach relax your mind a little and take as long as you need to come back and give it your all. also comments and reblogs and likes a follows those meant so much to me and encouraged me. thats why i cant express it enough how much all those mean to writers, artist, photographers, anybody who is truly trying their hard in this area of social media. its makes a person happy smile and confident in their writing but first train your mind into loving what you make not what others thing. you have to be happy with the outcome that is what truly matters and what makes your writing the best. look at me getting philosophical.

5. Do you get distracted easily? If yes with what?

yes and with porn haha i get distracted easily like very easily homeschooling was really tough for me. music distracts me, netflix, the urge to watch david dobrik or unus annus or buzzfeed unsolved on youtube, heck my farts distract me. i gotta be like troy bolton i gotta get my HEAD IN THE GAME!

MY QUESTIONS:

1. IF YOU COULD BE NAMED SOMETHING ELSE, WHAT WOULD YOU BE NAMED?

2. WHAT PERSON INSPIRES YOU THE MOST?

3. IF YOU KNEW THE WORLD WAS ENDING TOMORROW WHAT WOULD YOU DO TODAY?

4. WHAT DO YOU OFTEN THINK ABOUT IN THE SHOWER?

5. WHATS YOUR WEIRD COMBINATION FOOD?

im tagging: @thatlittlered, @ardentmuse, @acciosnapes, @lotsoffandomimagines, @collecting-stories AND WHOEVER WANTS TO DO THIS IF YOU FOLLOW ME OR LIKE MY STORIES TAG ME ILL READ YOUR ANSWERS. HOPE I DID THIS RIGHT SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING MWUAH

#ask #@writing-with-melon #rambles #writing #tips on writing #unus annus #david dobrik #netflix #buzzfeed unsolved #peaky blinders oc #kobe bryant #mac miller #tony stark #peter parker #the greatest showman #tom thumb #troy bolton #zac efron

16 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Houroubing to Aruba, Chapter 3, (Branjie) - Blackhighheels

(Read at AO3)

Chapter 3: The ballgame

It is shortly before ten when Jose finally stirs. Brock has been replying to emails, checking up on social media and just surfing the net on his phone for the last hour and a half.

“What you doin’?” Jose mumbles, his eyes barely open.

“Just taking care of some things, reading emails.” Brock isn’t surprised when his boyfriend takes the phone out of his hand, throws it to the foot of the bed and places his head on his chest. His eyes close again. “You wanna go back to sleep or you up for some breakfast?” Brock runs his hands over Jose’s back, rubbing it lightly.

“You hungry?”

“Mmmh, slowly getting there.” Just then Brock’s stomach rumbles and Jose opens his eyes.

“Fine, let’s get up before you starve to death and everybody will think it’s my fault. All them cat owning lesbians will hunt me down.” Jose climbs over him to get out of bed and Brock uses the opportunity to pat his butt. “You better stop,” Jose warns him with a smile and a wink before he walks out of the room. “Lord, what did I drink last night? I have to pee so bad, I might be dripping and dropping all over the floor already. My bladder feels like it’s the size of a fucking water-melon. Fuck…hope this toilet is built correct and you said all your prayers, ‘cause we might have the flood upon us.”

Brock titters as he gets out of bed, used to the stream-of-consciousness kind of talking Jose does on the regular, when it’s just the two of them. He loves that he has no filter and stopped censoring himself a while ago. Not only does it provide Brock with countless hours of entertainment, but it also gives him a very clear view into his man’s mind - even though peeing might not be the topic he would have chosen.

After getting ready, they make their way down to breakfast and fall into the usual routine they’ve developed while touring together: Jose gets fruits and vegetables, Brock is responsible for yoghurt, porridge, scrambled eggs and bread. Whoever is back at the table first gets coffee and juice.

They choose a table outside on the terrace which has a view of the beach. The table is in the shade, so they can eat without getting roasted by the sun. It’s really warm already and Brock sighs in relief when he sits down in his cool chair. Even the wide tank top and shorts he’s wearing feel like too much clothing.

He looks around and notices that there is just one other couple sitting a few tables to the right, since breakfast ends at eleven and most other guests are already by the pool or at the beach.

“They have a barista here to make our cappuccino right. None of the machine crap.” Jose lets him know and points to the cup. There’s a palm tree painted into the milk foam of Jose’s cup and a heart in his. It’s whimsical, typically Jose and it makes him smile.

“It’s really amazing here. Feels a bit like a dream.”

“Did you sleep alright?” Jose asks him then.

“Yeah, until like eight, maybe? Longer than I’ve slept in a while. You?”

“I think I was up around four and got up to close the blinds.”

“The moon taunting you again?” Brock smiles knowingly.

“I must be half werewolf, I’m telling ya. Full moon and I’m up for no reason in the middle of the night.” Jose rubs one hand over the stubble on his cheeks “Would explain all this, too.”

“Don’t you always say your hair grows so fast because you’re Puerto Rican?”

“Might be lyin'… sneaky cover up and all.”

They fall silent for a moment, just eating and watching their surroundings. “So, what’s the plan for today?” Brock finally asks.

“Plan?”

“I thought you arranged it all with Henry?”

“Not really. He gave me a list of stuff we could do, if we want to, but I didn’t sign us up for nothing today. Thought maybe we just chill on the beach or by the pool? We can take a look at our options later and see what we wanna do the other days and then let Henry know?” Jose adjusts the black baseball hat he is wearing, the right way for once, and takes the sunglasses off.

“Sounds good,” Brock nods and gets distracted by his vibrating phone. It’s a text message from a booker in London and he quickly reads it.

“Hey, Brock?” Jose sounds a bit hesitant.

“Mmh?” he asks and quickly checks his calendar, so he can reply to the message.

“I think maybe we should talk about the phone and social media stuff now?”

“Just a second…” He quickly types out his answer, sends a copy of it to Steve and then puts his phone down. “What? Phone and social media stuff?” He’s lost and doesn’t really know what Jose means.

“You know, if and what we post and what rules we should have for the use of our phones while we’re here. We’ve never really decided on anything, just started talking about it and then dropped it 'cause we were too busy.”

“Oh, ok. I didn’t know we needed rules for our cellphone use, like we’re ten or something.” Brock wrinkles his nose, but the look on Jose’s face gives him pause. “Sorry,” he says quickly, realising this is not the time for flippant replies.

“No, it… I just… I don’t wanna fight. If you think it’s silly…”

“Jose, no, you’re right.” He needs to intervene and stop Jose from agreeing to everything and bending to his wishes during this trip, simply because he wants it to be perfect. It happened yesterday at the airport and again just now. “What do you think we should do?”

“I don’t really know. I’m not sure… so, don’t take this as a rule or nothin’, okay?”

“I’ll be your sounding board, just go ahead.”

“I know we can’t just vanish on the gram for like three weeks. You know, we have to feed the children or they’ll riot. But I don’t know, if I want pics from this trip to show up online: A. I don’t want no geo tags on nothing, so they don’t know where we at, 'cause some stalker ass is always close by and B. I wanna have this for us. If we take crappy pictures with fucked up lighting that we keep to remember this trip by, then that’s our business. I want no opinions or comments on how cute we look, or how we need to work out more, or if these fuckers like our outfits. When I went to Australia with Matt, no one knew shit and that was real cool. But I also don’t want you to think I’m hiding or holding back or some fucked up shit like that, like with the video.” Jose speaks calmly, but Brock can tell that it’s very important to him. “And while we at it, I think we shouldn’t work while we here. We both crazy and will get sucked in and I don’t want us to spend all the time checking mails and replying to texts on the phone, especially your micro-managing ass. We have assistants, they can take care of it for three weeks and when it’s real important they’ll call, right? Meanwhile, we can concentrate on each other.”

Brock takes a deep breath, because only the thought of being out of the loop for three weeks might send him straight into an anxiety attack. Jose takes his hand and moves his chair closer in silent support. Brock thinks about it, weighs his options and mulls over what Jose just said.

“I’ll let Steve know that he should filter the emails for me and put the really important stuff into a separate folder, so I can just ignore the rest. Give me like, an hour a day?” he offers.

“Twenty minutes?”

“Forty?”

“Deal.” Jose gives his hand a squeeze.

“As for social media: I think we should tell Tammy and Courtney to, like, post old pics and announcements for upcoming gigs, so we don’t vanish? Maybe they could also repost some stuff? Art we are tagged in or something? You’re right we shouldn’t worry about taking pictures for insta or about comments. We’re here for us. If we wanna share something we’ll decide spontaneously, ok?”

“Sounds good, toes.” Jose’s smile is wide and Brock knows they’ve made the right decision.

“But I think we should maybe call Andrew, Steve and your mom and let them know we’ve arrived safely and tell them what we’ve come up with so they don’t start worrying.”

“And then we go into flight mode and haul our asses to the beach to chillax and get a tan on?”

“Absolutely.” They seal the deal with a quick peck, chuckle when Jose’s hat nearly falls off as Brock bumps against it. “So, what do you say: Is it a swimming shorts or briefs kind of day?”

“With your white ass, it might be better to go with the trunks, otherwise you’ll burn the goods on the first day, which would be a shame. And you just bought new trunks. The Ralph Lauren ones look pretty fresh.”

“The Ralph Lauren ones it is,” Brock agrees and keeps Jose’s hand in his as they get up to go back to their room and get ready for the beach.

***

“You think Andrew’ll still be alive when we get back?” Jose asks as he spreads his towel out on the lounge bed of their beach cabana. He ist still chuckling because Brock just told him about the phone call he had with Andrew.

“I can’t believe both Henry and Apollo have already bit him.” Brock can’t help but laugh about it again.

“Told you, you spoil them kitty cats too much.They ain’t listening to shit you say. Why would they listen to Miss Nina, who thinks she’s Cinderella and they’ll dance and sing songs with her while she makes the bed?”

“But I’m their mommy,” Brock pouts, knowing full well that Jose is right.

“You definitely are, but one of those moms who always say: 'Wait until daddy gets home!’” Jose continues teasing him and sits down.

“I still don’t know how you stopped them from sleeping in our bed.”

“Girl, I kicked their furry butts out, that’s how. You can cuddle them all you want on the couch, but I never want to find no vomit fur balls in my bed, ever again.” He shudders at the memory and Brock laughs, when he remembers the incident. Jose’s screams of terror so loud, he thought he’d been attacked or something. “Can you do me?”

Brock snorts at the request. “Here? In public?” he fakes outrage.

“Stop playin’. You know I’m talking about the sun lotion,” Jose smirks and holds up the bottle he just dug out of his bag.

“Only if you 'do me’ next.” Brock takes the bottle from him and sits down behind him. He squirts the lotion on Jose’s shoulders then starts applying it and rubs it in all over his back.

“You better watch them fingers, perv,” Jose says when he swipes his hands underneath the hem of his trunks.

“As if you’d really say no,” Brock whispers in his ear and bites it gently, but takes his hands out of Jose’s pants.

“I don’t know which adult plus gay resort you used to spend your vacations at, but here at this gay friendly but very straight-people beach, shit like this will get us thrown out. So you better channel your very christian upbringing and manners, cause, bitch, I will not be kicked out of this resort, because you decide to finger me first opportunity on the beach,” Jose rants and Brock cackles when he hears his words. He really hopes no one is close by to overhear them.

“And you pretend to be a good catholic boy?”

“Don’t have to pretend. I am!” He gives him an exaggerated fake Vanjie smile, that shows all of his white teeth. “And now lay down on your stomach like a good little gay boy, so I can get the sun block on you, so you not you roasting and toasting.” Jose doesn’t simply rub the lotion in, he gives him a really good massage and by the end of it Brock is so relaxed he’s nearly asleep. “There you go,” Jose says when he’s done and presses a kiss to the back of his head, before he climbs over him once more and flops down beside him. He crosses his arms behind his head and looks around. “What do you think their stories are?"

"Huh?” Brock turns around so he can see what Jose sees.

“The other couples. What do you think their stories are? Like, why are they here?”

“I don’t know. Like, vacation or honeymoon maybe?”

“Honeymoon? These two over there haven’t spoken a single word to each other since we’ve gotten here and he stares at every ass walking by. If this is their honeymoon, she’ll better have the divorce papers ready.” Jose is talking about a couple that’s maybe in their early forties and lying a bit further down on the beach on the normal sun chairs. She keeps flipping through her phone while he ogles the other women at the beach.

“Maybe they’re not a couple?”

“They’re wearing matching wedding bands.” Of course Jose would zoom in on details like this.

“Then I’m out. But maybe we’ll find out while we’re here?”

“Maybe. If we ever get like this, boo, even Laurie might not be able to save us.”

“We won’t. I mean, you just limited my cellphone time and I’d be scared for my balls if you caught me ogling anyone like this. He’s not really subtle.”

“You’d better be, cause I’d go all Lorena on ya, but wouldn’t tell anyone where to find the parts!” Jose confirms. “But hey, maybe they have one of these open relationship things and he’s just looking for prey?”

“Honestly, as long as he keeps his paws off you, I don’t give a fuck.” Brock decides to end the speculations that Jose can get lost in.

“It’s cute when you all jealous and possessive.” Jose leans over and kisses him like it’s the biggest compliment ever. Brock has to admit, that since they got back together not only is he not missing his freedom at all, but also he has become what he’d earlier would have called “clingy”. He’s just lucky that Jose is totally into it. “You wanna go swimming?” Jose accepts the topic change.

“Not right now. Your massage nearly put me to sleep.” A wide yawn follows his words.

“Want me to put you to sleep?” Jose offers and wiggles his fingers. Sometimes when Brock has trouble sleeping, Jose makes him curl up to him and rubs his back until he relaxes and falls asleep. Usually it works.

“It’s too hot, papi. I’d be dripping sweat all over your shoulder.”

Jose guffaws. “That’s not the only thing you’re dripping all over me on the regular.”

Brock just rolls onto his side, so he is facing his boyfriend and moves a bit closer. “Just be quiet and let me nap,” he counters, but takes his hand and places a kiss on Jose’s palm and then licks it, before he closes his eyes.

***

“You wanna go swimming now?” Jose asks as soon as he realises that Brock is awake again. Brock stretches lazily, nods and sits up. Jose basically jumps off the bed.

“Help me up?” Brock requests and holds out his hands.

“Sure, grandpa.” Jose pulls him up and leads the way to the water. Brock watches him as he carefully dips his toes in, then walks in a bit further.

His boyfriend really is beautiful and not only because he’s in great shape, Brock muses, lost in thoughts. It’s the way he carries himself, wears his heart on his sleeve, his bronze skin, the hair that’s always falling into his face because it’s just a bit too long. His strong legs, tiny waist and delicious ass - even in swim trunks. And it’s also the way he fits right under Brock’s arm, how he loves to snuggle with him, how he makes him laugh and how he can communicate with just one look how much he loves Brock in return. “It not too bad,” is Jose’s verdict, before he jumps in and lands in the ocean with a loud splash that leaves Brock dripping wet.

“Oh wait, you little shit!” he threatens and jumps in after Jose, but his boyfriend is faster in the water than Brock thought. While he never really mastered how to do the crawl, Jose surely knows how and uses it to his advantage to get away from Brock.

“Haha! You can’t get me, grandpa!” he screams and splashes more water in his direction with both hands.

“No, but I can wait you out!” Brock yells back and keeps treading water and tries to find a moment to counter attack, but Jose is simply too fast. He decides to go back to where he can stand. As soon as his feet touch the ground, he turns around to keep an eye on Jose, but he can’t see him anymore. How far can he swim in just a couple of seconds? Suddenly something pops out from under the water behind him and a second later Jose has jumped on his back. Narrowly Brock avoids falling and Jose’s boisterous laughter is ringing in his ears.

“Gotcha!"

Brock wraps his arms around Jo’s legs and holds him there, basically giving him a piggyback ride. "I think I got you, papi.” Jose’s arms tighten around his neck as he adjusts his position. A second later he leans forward and places a kiss on Brock’s cheek. When he turns his head, another kiss follows, on the lips this time.

“You taste like salt,” Jose states and smacks and licks his lips when he pulls back.

“So do you.” Brock walks them further into the sea again and dips down so only their heads are above the water. “I didn’t know you were that good a swimmer.”

“I told you. You should have believed me.”

“Ever took lessons or were in a club at school or something?”

“No, but my brother used to take me to the beach with him when we were younger. All of his friends were there and they always thought it was fun to throw the little brother around in the water like a football, or see how long I could hold my breath. I had to be faster than them to get away.” Jose tells the story like it’s a fond memory, and maybe in some ways it is, but Brock has enough knowledge to understand that Jose didn’t have too much fun back then and was scrambling for his older brother’s attention without getting it in a positive way.

“I’m surprised your mom let you go with them if that’s what was going on.”

“Mom never found out. I never told her, 'cause we would have had to stay home all day while she was working.” Brock lets go off Jose’s legs and pulls him to his front instead. Jo’s legs are now wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t know why, but every time Jose talks about his childhood, all he wants to do is shower him with love and affection to make it all better. His lips find Jose’s again and he kisses him gently, but with enough heat so Jose makes these little noises in the back of his throat that Brock loves so much. It’s a wave crashing into them that makes them break apart after a while and they both start laughing.

“Let’s get out and get dry. Then we can take a look at the list Henry gave you,” Brock suggests as they wade towards the beach. A group of people, mostly guys, is standing there, talking about something and they all turn towards them when get out of the water. Brock hopes they don’t recognise them.

“Hey,” one of the guys calls out as a greeting.

“Hey,” Brock replies and wants to keep walking towards their cabana, but Jose is already en route to them, always one for socialising even with large crowds of complete strangers.

“You’re new right?”

“Yeah, we got here yesterday. I’m Jose, this is Brock,” he introduces them.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Bill.” The guy who is talking shakes Jose’s hand and claps him on the back, while Brock remains standing slightly behind him. “We were wondering if you’d join us playing volleyball. We really need some more people.”

“Of course, I’m game,” Jose agrees before Brock can stop him, because, really, playing a ball game he sucks at with a bunch of strangers is the last thing he wants to do. Also, they have plans, right? They wanted to see what romantic things they could do over the next days, just the two of them. “Brock, you too, right?” Jose turns around to him.

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” he tells him and some of the guys grumble and try and encourage him to join in.

“Come one! You sure?”

“Yeah… uh, you’re sure you wanna play with you knee and all?” he tries to talk him out of it without being too obvious.

“My knee’s fine,” Jose shrugs. “See you in a few?"

"Yeah,” Brock nods and walks off to the cabana. He can see and hear them perfectly from where he is sitting, wrapped in his towel.

They quickly form two teams and start the game. Jose isn’t half bad, but every time he misses the ball he pretends he is the worst player ever. In no time he has all of them cheering him on and laughing about everything he does or says. He weirdly fits in with these straight men, jocks, and banker-types, who have all come together to play volleyball but instead have fallen under the spell of Vanjie without knowing it. Bock watches it with fascination and envies his boyfriend for a second. He wishes he was that charismatic and engaging in social situations. Jose lives and breathes entertaining crowds of strangers, while it gives Brock anxiety. He wishes he could be there and play as well, get some of Jose’s attention and jokes directed at him, but knows he would be all awkward and would quickly become the guy no one wants on the team.

They all love Jose and they all have Jose’s attention as he makes them laugh, makes them cheer him on, makes them feel like they’re his buddies.

His good mood fades more and more, the longer he watches the game. He doesn’t want to analyse what he’s feeling and finally lies back and closes his eyes. He can still hear them, can hear Jose’s happy laughter and hilarious comments, neither of which are directed at him.

“Hey, you asleep?” Jose pants a while later, standing beside him in the sand, completely dripping wet.

“You done?”

“Nah, half-time. We just went to cool off in the sea for a second.” Brock knows Jose is observing him closely, even though he can barely see it, because he is blinking against the sun. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Why you saying it like that?” Jose’s eyes narrow further behind his shades, Brock can tell just by his tone.

“I’m not saying it 'like that’. I’m just doing nothing.” He knows he is pouting, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. “Why don’t you go back to your game and let me get back to my doing nothing,” he suggest and closes his eyes again.

“Get up!” Jose suddenly sounds like his mother when she’s pissed, a latin accent even comes through.

“What?” he opens his eyes again.

“Now, white boy,” Jose orders and waits until Brock is standing beside the bed. Then he kicks Brock’s flips flops towards him and puts on his own, before he drags him off by his wrist.

“Hey, what are you doing? Let go of me! Where are we going?” Brock complains and tries to free his arm, but Jose just keeps dragging him through the resort until they reach their penthouse. Jose unlocks the door, drags him in and pulls out a chair from the table in the living room and places it in the middle of the room.

“Sit!” he orders and Brock is so dumbfounded he complies. “Talk!”

“What?” he crosses his arms in front of his chest and plays dumb while Jose glares down on him. His refusal makes Jose take a deep breath and he pulls out a chair for himself.

His voice is softer when he speaks again, just a bit. “Tell me what got your trunks in a twist. We done playin’, Brock! No drama on this fucking vacation! Just spit it out.”

“I thought we were making plans for all the romantic stuff and then you go off and play volleyball with all these guys.”

“You could have played with us.”

“I suck at all sports involving a ball and they would have just laughed about me.”

“You an idiot, Brock.” Jose sighs loudly. “A pouting, jealous idiot.” He gets off his chair and walks over to him. “Get up,” he says, but there is no more authority in his voice. He sounds a little bit amused, which rubs Brock the wrong way.

“You just told me to sit down!”

“Bitch, really?” Jose sniggers and raises one eyebrow. Brock knows he is acting ridiculous, he doesn’t need Jose to rub it in. As soon as Brock stands, Jose is on his knees in front of him, pulls down his swimming trunks and sucks his dick into his mouth.

“Jo, what the fuck?” Brock exclaims in surprise, but the hand that flies to Jose’s head and tangles in his wet hair is certainly not pulling him off.

“You need some attention, 'cause you’re being a jealous little whiny bitch, and I wanna suck your dick, because…do I really need a reason?” He shrugs. “Any problem with that?” He licks his cock like it’s a popsicle and Brock is sure his eyes roll into the back of his head. He moans.

“None, your honour,” Brock says when he finds his voice again.

“Then shut up and hold on tight.” With these words Jose goes down on him again. He starts slow, licks his shaft and his balls and focusses on the head for a while. Then he takes him deep, even gags one time, then continues, bops his head fast and sucks like he’s starving. It’s truly ridiculous how fast Jose has him going from being limp and jealous to coming down his throat with a loud groan.

“You really are fucking crazy,” Brock chuckles as he helps Jose stand up and pulls him against him.

“Do you feel better or not?” Jose’s hands find their way to his naked butt.

“I do. Thank you.” He kisses him deeply and gets a thrill out of the fact that he can taste himself on Jose’s lips. Take that you damn volleyball players!

“You ready to go back down and stop the drama or you wanna stay here and pout some more?” Jose is back to teasing him, which is a good sign.

“How about I return the favour first?” He cups his crotch through his wet swimming trunks and unsurprisingly finds him half hard.

“No! First you gotta earn it by playing some volleyball with me and the guys and then we gonna tackle the damn list, so the romance is back on.”

“Fine, but I might need a snack in between. I’m getting hungry.”

“I’m the snack!” Jose points out and pulls Brock’s shorts back up.

“You are, but you’re not letting me suck you off.”

“Come on, you attention whore, maybe Imma feel more giving later.” Brock smiles when he gets another kiss before they leave their penthouse. Jose stops him again just before they reach the others on the beach. “Oh and just so you know: There’s a ballgame, where it’s really good when you suck!” His wiggling eyebrows make Brock chortle and forget about his anxiety about being faced with a group of strangers and having to play a game with them. They both learn that day that Brock likes volleyball and isn’t bad at it at all.

***

After cooling off once the game is done, they pack their things and make their way back to the terrace by the restaurant. While drinks were served on the beach, they needed something to eat, because dinner was still hours away.

“Hello gentlemen, what can I get you?” It’s Henry who shows up to take their order

“Henry, hi. You being a waiter today?” Jose asks him happily.

“I simply saw you coming up and decided to check in on you. I hope everything is satisfactory?”

“Everything is amazing, thank you,” Brock replies.

“We gonna make the romance plans now and then let you know, ok?”

“Very well. What can I do for you meanwhile?”

“Can you get us a large bottle of non-sparkling water and two salads with tuna and garlic bread?” Brock orders.

“Make that two bottles of water. I feel like I’m drying up from the inside out,” Jose supplies.

“Thank you and see you later.”

“Bye Henry,” Brock tells him and waits until he’s gone before he speaks again. “You think he’s spying on us? That was kind of creepy.”

“Maybe he ordered the Vanjie tracking device when he heard we were coming,” Jose jokes and leans in conspiratorially. Brock decides not to go on with this topic, because if Jose is already opening with this statement, only god knows what will come out of his mouth next.

He pecks his lips and changes the topic. “So where is the famous romance list?” Jose digs through their bag and hands it to Brock just as their drinks arrive. “You know if you wanna do something sporty or with a group?”

“I think we had enough group and sport action today. Send you right into a jealous fit. How about just the two of us? Something relaxing?” Jose changes his sunglasses for another pair, so he can read along. The lenses in the stylish other pair are great for everything except reading, because they are designed to fix Jose’s myopia.

“Tomorrow evening is the movie night under the stars. They’re showing 'Notting Hill’, but that’s with a group, I guess,” Brock thinks out loud.

“We could maybe do the picnic in the afternoon and go to the movie night after dinner. If we still feeling like being alone, I don’t think anyone will care,” Jose suggests.

“Sounds good. Should we plan the rest of the week already or you wanna be more spontaneous?”

“We could maybe do the segway tour the day after?"

Brock immediately shakes his head forcefully. "No! No way you are doing a segway tour. I saw you once on a scooter and on ski, uh-uh, ain’t happening.” His words only make Jose chuckle.

“Fine. How about this hike? Seeing the best places of Aruba and go snorkelling in between doesn’t sound too bad.”

“I like it,” Brock agrees, because he really wants to see a bit of the island and not only the resort.

“We really good at this shit now,” Jose points out.

“Planing trips together?” Brock asks just as Henry comes back with their salads.

“Talking, toes. But sure, planing, too.”

“Have you found something?” Henry asks them after placing their food in front of them.

“Yes, we’d love to go on a picnic tomorrow around noon and then join in on the movie night. And the day after, the hike with the snorkelling sounds really great,” Brock lets him know, while Jose is already devouring his salad.

“Of course. Do you have any special requests for picnic stops? By the beach, in town?”

“No, just surprise us, we trust you.” Brock shrugs and Henry leaves them alone again.

“Look at you being all spontaneous all of a sudden,” Jose points out.

“I can be spontaneous.”

“Good, but swallow before you talk or Imma tell your mama,” Jose laughs when salad nearly falls out of Brock’s mouth.

“And apparently I can be very sexy, too,” he laughs about his own mishap.

“Wanna spend the rest of the day being sexy by the pool before we have to get ready for dinner?” Jose asks him, still sniggering. Brock agrees, and once more they have a plan.

***

After dinner that night they go back out on the restaurant terrace and order themselves some gin tonic. Their table is on the edge of the terrace and so it takes a while when more and more couples come out, until someone comes up to them.

“We’re sorry, but may we join you? All the other seats are taken.” A tall woman, maybe in her sixties, with bright blue eyes and white hair, asks them. Her tan skin makes her eyes even more striking, even in the near darkness.

“Yes, of course, please do,” Brock nods and Jose even gets up and pulls the chair out for her.

“Oh thank you, darling. I’m Margaret and this is my husband Magnus,” she introduces them and they all shake hands as Brock and Jose introduce themselves.

“Jose? You’re Spanish?” she asks.

“Puerto Rican, but I live in LA now.”

“And you, Brock?” her husband asks. He is also tall, a bit on the heavy side and looks like Santa Claus, Brock thinks.

“I’m originally from Canada, but I live in L.A. now, too. And where are you from? I think I hear a bit of an accent.”

“And he should know about having an accent,” Jose teases him.

“We’re from Sweden.”

“Oh how nice!” Brock gushes. “I’m like a quarter Swedish or something and I’ve been to Stockholm a while ago. You live there?”

“No,” Magnus laughs about Brock’s enthusiasm. “We’re from a very small town up north. Just three hundred inhabitants.”

“Up north? Like at the north pole?” Jose asks and waves for the waiter.

“No, that’s even further north,” Margaret smiles.

“But it real cold there, right? He from Toronto that’s damn cold, too. Never seen so much snow in my life, Mary.”

“Yeah, we have a lot of snow.” She confirms.

“What do you want to drink?” Brock asks them when the waiter has arrived.

“What is it you’re having?”

“Gin tonic. Oh, you could bring us two more,” Brock decides, making use of the opportunity that the waiter is there.

“Make that four, we’ll have the same,” Magnus decides.

“You here to get away from the cold?” Jose asks curiously and places his hand on top of Brock’s leg underneath the table, his fingertips gliding over the naked skin of his knee with comfortable familiarity.

“Yeah, that too” Margaret confirms. “But mainly we’re here for our 25th wedding anniversary. We spent our honeymoon here and decided to come back. It’s even more beautiful now, with the resorts they built and all.”

“25 years, wow, that’s a long time, mama.” Jose nods his head as he speaks.

“It really is. Thirty years together, 25 married.” She nods along with him.

“That’s the goal, isn’t it? No matter if you married or not, just stick together through thick and thin,” Jose muses and Brock takes his hand that is still resting on his knee.

“It’s not always easy and we’ve had our moments, but we don’t regret it.” Magnus adds. “And what are you doing here? You’re here with your girlfriends or wives?” The question is asked good-naturedly, but still makes Brock a bit nervous. He doesn’t really know how to reply without making it uncomfortable for all of them. Jose has no such reservations, of course.

“Ha! If you want we can flip a coin and then tell you who the wifey is,” he guffaws. “We here together for our first vacation.”

“Oh you are a couple, how sweet!” Margaret seems genuinely excited. “You know you two are the first real gay couple I’ve ever met. Otherwise this way up north we only get gay people on the TV.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” Brock can’t help but snort. “My sister was married for years and had a couple of kids before she came out as a lesbian. Not everything is as it seems, no matter how small the village.”

“What’s the statistical statistics stuff?” Jose asks and turns towards Brock.

“Something like 5%, I think?”

“As in 5% of people are gay?” Magnus asks. They all wait for their drinks to be set on the table before they continue their talk. “That would be like 15 people in our village? I wonder who that could be!”

“Maybe old Sverre? He never got married and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with a woman?”

“I could google the exact percentage for Sweden, but my man here has banned cellphones for the time being.” Brock says and wraps his free arm around Jose’s shoulders.

“And you’re right to do so, darling. It’s horrible when all this people are only staring into their phones and don’t talk to each other anymore.” Margaret pats Jose’s arm.

“You had your forty minutes of internet time today, toes. The rest of your time belongs to me,” Jose smiles up at him and slurps the rest of his gin tonic. “And I’m a darling, you heard that?” He looks so proud and smug that Brock just has to kiss him.

“I heard, papi.”

“There is this couple here at the resort, they have been here for four days… or is it five Magnus?"

"Which couple do you mean?”

“Gianna and TJ. She’s always on the phone and he keeps ogling everything on two legs?”

“Mami, we know exactly who you’re talking about!” Jose exclaims excitedly, Brock pulls him closer and they are off to kiki about the real tea at the resort until the bar closes and they stumble back to their room, so drunk they barely find the way.

“I still haven’t got to suck your dick,” Brock remembers when they are lying in bed beside each other, clad only in their underwear.

“You drunk… I’m more drunk. Can wake me up with a blowjob if you want,” Jose slurs, barely awake.

“K… blowjob t'morrow mornin'… G'night.” Brock repeats and closes his eyes, hopes that the bed will stop spinning soon.

“G'night.”

TBC

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #fluff #smut #drama #canon compliant #houroubing to aruba #blackhighheels

6 notes · View notes