#Bobby has the Scary Don't Fuck With My Client stare down

[innytoes]

the Trope Mash-Up: 14 + 48 + Willex please? <3

Bodyguard AU + Fake Dating

Willie's been an expert at slipping away from his private security since he was twelve. It was just that they never let him do anything fun, and most of them were sticks in the mud about following his dad's rules. Which was boring. He didn't want to schmooze with rich investors or their stuck up kids. He didn't want to 'sneak off' and do cocaine in the bathroom while a bored security guard stood outside the door and pretended not to know what was happening. He wanted to raid the kitchen for desserts and then slip away to go skating.

He knew his dad had enemies, just as he was vaguely aware that not everything he did was on the right side of the law. But he never really paid it any mind. It was all just boring contracts and schmoozing and meeting shady people in his home office while Willie tried to annoy his latest security guard into going away by playing Pink Fluffy Unicorns Dancing On Rainbows on a loop while he painted.

Which had worked. Only when he snuck out of the house to go skate, a bag was put over his head and he'd been taken away. Everything after that was just a confusing blur of images he tried not to think about too much.

He'd woken up in the hospital to a face and a torso full of bruises, and a missing pinkie finger. He'd woken up to the sound of Caleb Covington’s ice cold fury as he told whoever was on the other side of the line that if the people responsible weren't mysteriously found dead by the end of the night, then maybe their daughter would be.

Willie didn't slip away from his security after that. Not even after his eighteenth birthday a week after he came home from the hospital, when technically he could refuse having them at all. Hell, he didn’t even leave the house for a couple of months, until dad forced him into therapy.

Eventually, he started to feel better. He was able to leave the house without a panic attack. He’d gotten used to holding a paintbrush with a finger less. He’d even started to annoy his bodyguards again. Dad was a lot quicker in firing and replacing them if they showed even the slightest hint of leaving him alone just because of his taste in music (five hours of uninterrupted Nyancat) or just if Willie said they gave him the creeps (that one muscle dude who made incredibly intense eye contact and muttered under his breath every time Willie ate something sugary).

Which was how Willie had ended up with Alex. Alex, who was only a few years older than him. Alex, who didn’t wear a suit and tie and those ‘try me, punk’ sunglasses, but a pink hoodie and a fanny pack instead. Alex, who hummed ‘Pink Fluffy Unicorns’ under his breath when Willie went to go get lunch after painting for two hours with it on in the background.

Alex, who had casually taken out what turned out to be a paintball gun from his waistband and had sniped a photographer’s camera when he’d snuck onto the property to try and catch pictures of Willie, before chasing him down and handing him off to his dad’s security detail.

Willie kind of adored Alex.

Out in public, Alex didn’t act like a body guard. They’d had a long talk about it, about how Willie (and Caleb, but Alex had spent the entire conversation looking at Willie, not his dad) wanted to handle it. They’d discussed the press, who had had a field day when the news leaked that Willie Covington had been kidnapped, and had tried to both vilify him (he was a troublemaker who deserved it) or tried to make him a Precious Little UwU Bean (while also sensationalizing what had happened to him).

Having visible security would only serve as a reminder of what happened to him. It might even paint a target on his back, both for his father’s enemies who would take it as a challenge, and for paparazzi to run more stories about how poor Willie Covington was too much of a baby to go anywhere alone anymore.

So when they were in public, Alex acted like he was his boyfriend. His slightly anxious boyfriend who always checked all the exits, and who sometimes leaned in to whisper things (status updates, including warnings about the press being nearby and any cute dogs in the surrounding area) into his ear because he was a bit shy. They held hands and got ice cream where the press could see them, and when Alex offered Willie a taste of his, and then laughed and gently brushed away the whipped cream from his nose, well, Willex was soon a trending topic on certain corners of the internet.

For the first time since the kidnapping, Willie felt safe. Not only safe, but happy. He and Alex could talk for hours and still find new things to talk about. If he started to get anxious or triggered when out of the house, Alex took him somewhere quiet, and safe, and knew exactly what to say or do to keep him in the present. Turned out his little fanny pack not only had a miniature med kit and a scary looking knife, he also had some grounding items, like a citrus lip balm and a fidget toy.

So Alex went with him on trips to the art store, to museums, to the beach. One time, to Knott’s Berry Farm, because Alex confessed he’d never been and Willie just couldn’t let that stand. He hung onto Alex’ arm at galas and events his dad had told him he didn’t have to go to, while also implying it would be pretty beneficial if he did. When Willie finally felt ready, he asked Alex if there was a way he could go skateboarding again. And honestly, between Alex in his tiny running shorts jogging next to him, and the wind in his hair as he sailed through the streets again, it was the best day he’d had in a long, long time.

When they got home, Willie felt exhilarated. He was pleasantly sore, slightly out of breath, and he felt so free. So when he leaned over and kissed Alex, it felt natural. It felt right.

Until Alex gently pushed him away, face flushed. “I need to talk to your dad,” he said, and Willie’s world came crashing down.

“Shit, Alex, I’m sorry,” he said, even as Alex pulled away. “That wasn’t cool, you didn’t- you’re working and... I’m sorry, please don’t tell my dad, I won’t do it again, I promise, I’m so sorry.” If Alex told his dad, surely he’d get fired and sent away, and then Willie would get some other goon security guard and he’d be miserable again. He could tamp down on his crush on Alex, if it meant not losing him.

“Willie,” Alex said gently, cupping his cheek. “I need to resign.” He ran a soothing thumb over Willie’s cheekbone, wiping away a tear. “Because I can’t kiss you while you’re still a client.”

Oh.

Willie never did get a new bodyguard, but he did move in with his boyfriend Alex a few weeks later.

#julie and the phantoms #willex #fanfic #AUs are awesome #alex mercer #willie throckmorton #will I ever get tired of the 'Caleb is Willie's slightly shady foster/adoptive dad' trope? no #in my brain Alex worked as a bodyguard for kids before Willie so he was part nanny part bodyguard #he's just glad it was pink fluffy unicorns and not let it go #also just imagine all of sunset curve as bodyguards #luke is very impressive with the Muscles #Bobby has the Scary Don't Fuck With My Client stare down #Reggie's best job to this day was the six months he spent 'guarding' someone's prized poodle