Something In The Way You Move | The Redemption
Author’s note: I struggled writing this next instalment, and there was a lot of chopping and changing, so apologies for the late update. There’s one final part after this, and the plan is to have it out by mid-May. In terms of their apartment, this is how I pictured it but feel free to switch it up. This is only for fictional purposes only, but please don’t copy my work without my permission. Enjoy 🤎
Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive/implied smut, bad language, couple reconciling, side chick confrontation, some relationship issues, minors DNI (let me know if I missed anything)
famous!Reader x Jude Bellingham
Word count: 8k words
///
‘So, Bestie,’ Winnie starts, ‘what’s the plan? And how are we going to pull this off?’
That’s a good question: how will you break the big news to Jude? It’s been five torturous days since the positive pregnancy test and you’re yet to tell him about it. The timing just hasn’t been right, and the next bit’ll sound silly, but you’ve kept this from him because you don’t want to take the attention from him.
His first season at Real Madrid has exceeded all your wildest expectations, and you just wanted him to celebrate it all without detracting from it with the baby news.
Girlfriend of the Year, right?
‘To be honest, Wins, I haven’t thought about it.’
You’re standing in the kitchen waiting for the water in the kettle to boil and Winnie’s in the living room, her limbs stretched out on the sectional as she mindlessly browses through one of the coffee table books.
Your best friend’s in town for work, and earlier today, she actually filmed a couple of scenes with you for the show, and that’s when you told her about the pregnancy.
Off camera, of course. However, looking back at the moment, you regret not filming it.
Between filming your scenes, you quietly pulled Winnie to the side and showed her the sonogram you now carry around in your bag, and her reaction was exactly what you expected it to be and more. There was squealing, excited jumping, and there were lots and lots of tears shed between the two of you.
‘Okay, well, when do you plan to tell him?’
Tonight. You think enough time has passed and yesterday, you went to your first doctor’s appointment and confirmed that you were indeed pregnant, but despite your excitement, you kept the news from Jude because you wanted the announcement to be well thought out—special.
Also, there has been so much distance between you, you’re hoping that the baby news could be the catalyst to bring you two together because you kinda miss being close to him.
‘I’ll be honest with you, Y/N/N, that doesn’t give us much time to plan it.’
Winnie makes a good point, but you’re not looking for perfection, all that matters is that he knows.
‘Well,’ the kettle boils and you walk over to where it sits on the counter to grab it, ‘it depends on what we decide on.’
You start pouring the boiling liquid into the cups.
‘My only request is that we incorporate the sonogram.’
‘Wouldn’t it be cute if we could find a pair of infant football boots?’
It’s kinda cheesy—very cheesy, actually—but you like the idea. A lot.
‘Yeah, that’s a good idea. We’re getting somewhere with this.’
It’s almost hard to believe that you’re standing here, plotting out a way to tell Jude that you’re expecting.
If someone had come up to you the night you first met him and told you that in two years, you’d be standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment in Madrid, planning a pregnancy reveal, you would’ve called them a liar.
Excuse your French, but. . . ‘Holy fuck, Wins, I’m pregnant.’
It’s like it’s hitting you for the first time.
Winnie laughs, amused by your sudden realisation. ‘I can’t explain it, right? But it feels like a teen pregnancy.’
There’s no need for her to explain it further ‘cause you know exactly what she means. When you first saw the positive pregnancy test—you know, after your initial shock—you first panicked about how your family would react to the news.
You had to take a moment to stop and remind yourself that even though you’re still so young, you’re more than capable of raising this child.
With Jude’s assistance, of course.
‘Do you want to record it?’
‘Record what?’
You take the steaming mugs from the island and make your way over to the living room, where you place them onto the coffee table.
‘The moment you tell him. Not for Netflix,’ she clarifies, ‘but you know, home videos or whatever.’
Yeah, you’re definitely keeping this one in the family. Maybe if the show gets renewed for a second season. . . but you’re jumping the gun.
‘I want to, but’ you look around the ostentatiously decorated main living space ‘where can we put the camera? I don’t want him to see it.’
‘We’ll figure it out.’
Winnie’s composure is just what you need right now. You can always count on her to be calm in stressful situations.
‘Is your camera charged?’
You’ll have to check. It’s been some time since you last used it. Part of your job is that you’re a part time YouTuber, it’s something you dabble in because you like filming and editing. . . all that jazz, but lately, your channel has taken the backseat.
Why vlog this period of your life when they can catch it on Netflix when the show comes out?
‘Come,’ Winnie shifts to make space for you on the couch.
You take your seat next to her and by the time you settle, she’s already got her phone out, with her Pinterest open.
‘What’s that for?’
‘Well, something’s got to inspire us.’
Duh. It must be the pregnancy fog.
‘Don’t worry,’ she assures. ‘We’ve got this.’
And got this you do. A half hour and two cold teas later, there’s a plan, but this plan requires you to leave the house.
Booooo!
You’re not too keen on the impromptu outing, but there are baby football boots to be bought, and at least you’ll have Winnie there with you.
‘Well, that was easy.’
You beg to differ, but whatever.
Winnie locks her phone and sets it on the couch, ‘When’s The Boy coming home?’
You’re not sure when it started, but Winnie now refers to Jude as “The Boy” which you find to be endearing.
Probably late. He’s out with Toby and Noah, and he mentioned something about his other teammates joining them, but you weren’t really paying attention.
‘I’m not sure.’
And it’s not something you wish to discuss further because the thought fills you with dread. It’s been days since your discovery but given the circumstances, there has been no time to sit down and talk about Coralie.
The result of that is that whenever he goes out—and he’s been going out plenty to celebrate his victorious season—you can’t help but feel anxious that he might cheat on you again.
Surely this is no way to live.
‘But it doesn’t matter, does it?’ you rise off of the couch and start for the bedroom.
Naturally, Winnie’s trailing after you and you just know that this conversation is far from over. She’s persistent.
‘It doesn’t, but I think you should ask him.’
She makes it sound so simple. And you guess it is simple, he is your boyfriend after all, it’s your privilege to call or text him whenever and wherever.
‘We don’t want any surprises.’
You don’t, but if he does walk into something he’s not supposed to walk into, that’s all on him.
‘I don’t think it’s necessary, really.’
Inside the walk-in closet, you start stripping out of your house sweats to change into something appropriate. Once upon a time, you could leave your house in your house clothes without the fear of being pasted on the MailOnline and labelled “dowdy” and “unkempt”.
But that was a long time ago.
‘Oooh, what’s this?’
Winnie finds herself distracted by the Chloé box that’s sitting on the closet island.
‘Oh, yeah, that’s a PR box they sent me on Monday,’ you state matter-of-factly.
She opens it and gasps when she sees what’s inside the large box.
‘What the. . .’
‘It’s crazy, right?’
She turns to you in utter disbelief. ‘They gifted these to you?’
You hum.
She grunts and confesses, ‘I’m so jealous of you right now.’
Twelve full sized perfumes, all gifted to you by the brand.
You tell her to take a bottle, and of course, she’s over the moon. And it earns you the title of World’s Best Best Friend.
‘Well, I still think you should text him,’ she states as she tests the different scents.
And here you thought she had forgotten about that.
‘Just so we have an idea.’
You don’t really want to send the text, but you don’t want to raise any alarms with your friend. Lately, things between you and Jude have been far from perfect, but you’d prefer to keep your relationship problems from the world—even if it’s Winnie and she’s your best friend.
‘Yeah, alright.’
Your phone’s in the living room, so you have to leave the closet to grab it, and when you come back, Winnie’s discovered your new Chanel handbag—a gift from Jude.
‘He bought this for you?’
‘Yeah,’ but you’re not trying to make a big deal of it.
Jude bought the bag for you about a month ago. At the time, it seemed so random—his urge to buy such an expensive gift on a whim—, but after seeing those text messages, you know it was the guilt that made him do it.
‘Lucky bitch.’
‘I’ve been telling you to bag yourself a baller,’ you tease as you take your seat on one of the ottomans.
You: Hey, when are you coming back tonight?
You read over the text to make sure you’re not coming off as desperate. . . a nag. But whatever, the text needs to be sent, and the way he interprets it is up to him.
He doesn’t immediately respond, but you don’t expect him to. He never does when he’s out.
You take a final look in the mirror. You look so good, it’s almost hard to believe that the look was put together in ten minutes. And you’d take a picture to post on your story, but there’s no time for that now.
‘You ready, Wins?’
She smiles, ‘Ready.’
‘Alright then, let’s go.’
///
When he did finally respond to your text, Jude said that he’d try to be home by midnight, which gave you more than enough time to prepare for the reveal.
For her visit, Winnie will be staying at the apartment with you, but she’s gone out because she’s not pregnant and she’s actually got a life. However, she did help you set everything up for the reveal, which you appreciated because she came with all the good ideas.
Like she suggested that you do it in your closet as opposed to the kitchen, where you had initially planned to do it, because the lighting and acoustics were better.
And now it’s a little past eleven o’clock and you’re rewatching an old episode of your favourite series. Earlier in the night—after Winnie left—you filmed a night time routine vlog for your TikTok, which you should be working on editing, but can’t be bothered about.
Waiting for Jude to come home has reduced you to a ball of anxiety, and despite your eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each passing minute, you simply can’t make yourself fall asleep. However, one thing’s certain, no pregnancy reveal will be done tonight.
Damn him, and damn your feelings for him.
You can’t believe he’s once again ditched you for his friends this week. It’s disrespectful at this point, but the worst part?
You keep allowing him to get away with it.
But what can you do, leave him? As if that’s an option for you. The love you feel for him runs so deep, you can’t bring yourself to imagine a life without him in it, especially with the baby coming. So apologies to all the feminists of the world, but your love for this man surpasses all reasoning.
Your phone dings with a notification and you quickly grab it, hoping to find a text from him—you’ll take an incoherent drunken text at this point, anything—but instead it’s Winnie asking if he’s home yet.
Fuck.
You: Not yet, but soon :)
You hope.
She’ll never confront you about it, but you think that Winnie suspects that things aren’t good between you and Jude. The lack of calls and texts throughout the day was a dead giveaway. The two of you can’t get enough of each other, and even when you’re apart, you’re constantly updating each other one way or another so the silence was deafening.
But whatever, right?
People across the world experience relationship problems every day. You’re not the first couple to experience this, and you’re certainly not the last. You just wish that your relationship problems weren’t because he stepped out on you.
‘Babe?’
And now your mind’s playing tricks on you, because you swear you can hear him–
‘Y/N?’
Oh shit, he’s home!
You quickly reach for your phone to check the time: 11:26.
Fuck!
In the last text you sent him almost an hour ago now, you gave him strict instructions to text you before he left the club.
Guess he didn’t catch that text.
‘Baby?’ he calls for you again, but his voice sounds distant, so you figure you have enough time to do what it is that you have to do.
But you’ve got to move fast, so you clamber off of the bed, and scurry to your closet. You head straight to the camera, which you’ve carefully propped on your Louis Vuitton jewellery box, and switch it on to start recording.
This probably isn’t the best of angles, but so long as it captures his reaction, hopefully with his face in the frame.
‘Baaaaybeeee?’
His voice sounds closer now.
‘In the closet, babe,’ you finally call back, then internally brace yourself for what’s to follow.
With Jude, the plan was always to get married and have children, but the when was never discussed in detail.
‘Why are you hiding in here?’
Some of that anxiety leaves your body at the sight of him. He’s beaming at you, so visibly happy to see you.
‘Hiya.’
This man has seen you in all kinds of vulnerable situations, why are you so shy all of a sudden?
As he closes the distance between you, you notice that his eyes are kinda red and glossy, the only sign of his intoxication. When he reaches you, his smile widens—if that’s even possible—and he leans forward to connect your foreheads.
‘Hi, gorgeous.’
He smells of mint with the faint scent of alcohol, and a smell you can only describe as Jude on a night out.
With your eyes shut, you deeply inhale the comforting scent, happy to have him back home.
‘Hey, why are you hiding in here?’ he asks again, his words running into each other, the second sign.
‘Uh, ‘cause.’
You weren’t anticipating that question, and you don’t know how to answer it.
‘“‘Cause?”’ he chuckles.
You hum.
‘Come here,’ he envelops you in his large and strong arms, practically suffocating you but you can’t bring yourself to tell him to release you because you’ve missed his affection and the intimacy.
You fear you’re starting to sound like a broken record.
‘How was it?’
‘How was what?’
‘The club?’
‘Fine.’
And that’s all he’s willing to offer.
‘I thought you said Winnie was staying over?’
She is, she’s just gone to a party with the new guy she’s seeing.
‘And you didn’t join her?’
‘No.’
You give him a half-baked explanation for why you didn’t, but all you’re thinking is how this isn’t going the way you hoped for it to go. This isn’t what the other significant others did in the videos you watched earlier.
But how do you save it?
‘Why are you asking about her?’
‘Just curious, I guess.’
‘Alright then,’ you fist his jacket in your hand. ‘It’s good to have you back home.’
He likes that, you know that because his heart rate picks up. Things are still a bit awkward between you, but that’s to be expected since you haven’t been talking much.
With your arms around his neck, you press onto your toes and crane your neck to peck him on the lips. ‘And actually, babe, there’s something I want to show you.’
Jude tenses up at that, but it’s so subtle, if you weren’t in his arms, you would’ve missed it.
‘You do?’
And like magic, he’s sobered up. Only a bit though.
‘Don’t worry,’ you assure him, amused. ‘It’s nothing bad.’
Your assurance does nothing to ease his wound up body.
‘Jude, relax. . . please.’
Still tense. Whatever, you won’t dwell on his anxiety.
With a final peck to his lips, you step away from him and direct his attention to the island, where the football booties you went out to buy earlier are placed next to a toddler Real Madrid jersey, a positive pregnancy test—you took another one a couple of hours ago—and the sonogram.
‘Surprise,’ you say softly.
You want to sound excited, but it just comes out dejected.
You watch as he takes it in, your heart hammering against your chest. Unfortunately for you, you only have a view of his side profile but even from this angle, you can see that his usually expressive face is perfectly still. You can’t read him, and it feels like an eternity before he turns to face you.
‘Is this for real?’
You nod, the lump that has found a home in your throat making it hard to speak. Your vision’s also blurred, courtesy of the tears that have pooled in your eyes.
‘It is?’
The first tear falls.
‘Oh, baby.’
Jude lifts you into his arms and squeezes all the air from your lungs.
Man, he’s so strong.
Then he sort of holds you like that for a long time, and the next thing you know, your neck is damp.
‘Babe, are you. . are you crying?’
He denies it, but you can feel the damp spot grow with each passing second you’re in his arms. Oh goodness, he is.
‘I think you are.’
‘Shut up,’ he mutters, his voice muffled.
You giggle when he tickles you.
His reaction’s quite the relief and it feels like a ginormous load has been lifted off your shoulders. In terms of his reaction, you weren’t sure what to expect, but this is the best reaction possible, and as he holds you, all the lingering resentment about his past transgressions are forgotten.
Eventually, he sets you down to reveal his red rimmed eyes and similarly hued nose.
‘How far along are you?’
Seven weeks and three days today, according to your doctor. When Dr Hernandez told you, you couldn’t believe you were so far along and didn’t notice.
‘That’s what, almost two months?’
In defence of you though, between your work and Jude’s chaotic football schedule, you’ve been out of touch with your body.
‘Did you know?’
‘I suspected it.’ You tell him about the morning after that night when you noticed that your period was late. ‘I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to take the test first.’
‘And why didn’t you tell me after?’
‘I wanted the doctor to confirm it.’
You’ve grown so tired of standing, so you sit on the carpeted floor of the closet, and Jude joins you, pushing the ottoman to one side so that he can lean against the island.
‘I called Dr Morena who referred me to Dr Hernandez.’
He scowls, ‘Who’s that?’
‘My obstetrician.’
The scowl deepens.
You sigh, ‘The doctor who’ll care for me during the pregnancy.’
‘Oh.’ With his legs spread and stretched out before him, he pulls you into him and sets you between them. ‘And you said that Dr Morena referred you to this. . .’
‘Obstetrician.’
‘Yeah, that.’
You hum in agreement as you rest your back against his torso.
Dr Morena is your family GP.
There’s a silent beat then he asks, ‘So he knew before me?’
‘Winnie too,’ you turn your head so that you’re partially facing him. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Winnie knew before me?’
The offence is evident in his voice.
‘I had to tell her,’ you defend, but this isn’t where you want to steer the conversation. ‘She helped me set this all up.’
He grunts.
‘Are you mad at me?’
‘Kinda.’
Well, now you feel bad.
‘I’m sorry,’ you sit up and turn to face him, maintaining eye contact as you explain, ‘Had I known it would’ve offended you, I wouldn’t have done it.’
But she was so integral in all of this, a part of you’s glad you did. . .
‘Oh, come on, Jude.’
He’s pouting, your big baby.
‘Cheer up, will you?’ you straddle him, cupping his face to gently stroke his cheek with your thumb. ‘I’m really sorry.’
It’s about another minute of silence and avoided eye contact, and you’re about to give up and on the verge of tears when:
‘Babe, I’m only messing with you.’
A quiet beat, then there’s relief, followed by loud laughter.
‘That wasn’t funny,’ you grouse, slapping him lightly on his chest. ‘I almost cried, you know.’
‘Come here,’ he pulls you into him.
The traces of alcohol still linger in his speech, but he’s significantly sobered up since he got home ten minutes ago.
‘I can’t believe you’re pregnant.’
And you can’t remember the last time Jude was this excited about something outside of football. His reaction almost makes you wish you had waited to share the news with him on his birthday, but that wouldn’t have worked because he’ll be in Germany then with the national team for the Euros.
‘What are you thinking?’
‘How the pill doesn’t work a hundred percent,’ you pull away.
But then again, with all the jet setting you’ve been doing, you probably weren’t taking it at the same time every day.
With a flash of his signature smile, he concurs.
‘My knees are starting to hurt,’ you announce as you move off of his lap and back to your previous spot between his legs.
Jude places a hand over your stomach, and with your hands over his larger ones, you move them lower to the pelvic area.
‘There.’
He chuckles. ‘You know, I always dreamed of being a young dad.’
You didn’t know this about him.
‘Not at twenty-one,’ he continues, ‘but you know, in my twenties.’
It’s comforting to know that this baby fits into his life plan.
‘How about you?’
‘I don’t know,’ you admit after a moment of consideration.
You’re still wrapping your head around the turn your life’s taken. The WAG thing kinda blindsided you, the fame too. The craziest part of this all is that you’ve made a career of it, built an entire brand.
‘But I’m not mad at this plot twist.’
‘Our kid’s a plot twist?’ he chuckles.
You nod. ‘Clearly we weren’t paying attention in sex education.’
He kisses the top of your head.
‘Dr Hernandez said that the baby’s about the size of a blueberry,’ you tell him.
It’s such a random fact, but you feel compelled to share it with him.
‘That’s really tiny.’
‘Right?’
Jude keeps rubbing over the area, and you have an inkling he’ll make a habit of this.
Some minutes pass, and then you remember that the camera’s still going, so you excuse yourself from Jude.
‘Where’re you going?’
His grip is firm around your waist.
‘I’m going to get the camera.’
He looks confused, but he releases you. On bended knees, you shuffle over to the other end of the island to quickly grab it, but you don’t stop the recording. When you get back to Jude, you find him in a daze, silently staring at the sonogram in his hand.
‘She’s so tiny,’ he comments when you sit at your previous spot, facing him.
‘She?’
Talk about wanting to be a girl dad.
‘You think the baby’s a girl?’
He looks up to find a camera in his face. ‘What, you think it’s a boy?’
You shrug, you haven’t actually given it much thought. ‘Well, do you think you can handle a mini me?’
He makes a face.
‘Ah, take it back,’ you giggle.
He takes the camera and turns the lens to you. ‘Well, now I’m asking you. Y/N, do you think Baby Bellingham’s a girl or a boy?’
You pause to think about it. A mini you or a mini Jude, how difficult. ‘Well, I’m going the opposite, I think Baby Bellinghamʼs a boy.’
You snuggle into him, ear pressed against his chest, camera still in your face, but you’re both in the frame. One fact people don’t know about your boyfriend is that he’s a master vlogger, and he’s actually recorded many segments for your vlogs that will never see the light of day because when it comes to Jude, you’re a shameless gatekeeper.
‘I want to shower before bed,’ he proclaims once the recording has stopped. ‘Join me?’
You’ve already taken your shower, but you figure a second one wouldn’t hurt. Jude takes your hand and leads you out of the closet and into the bathroom, where you strip out of your clothes.
‘Is it my imagination, or are your boobs getting bigger?’
Huh?
You look down at your exposed breasts, ‘Are you joking?’
‘No, I’m not,’ with a hand on each shoulder, he turns you towards the mirror. ‘Look.’
You’re looking at them, but they still look the same to you, but he’s adamant. Then, in a move you deem perverted—in a good way, of course—, he cups them in his hands.
‘What are you doing?’ At this point, you can’t contain your laughter.
‘How are you not seeing this?’
He must’ve drank more than you realise, because what the fuck is this?
‘Are you high?’
His face twists with disapproval, ‘No, why?’
‘The boobs,’ you turn to him, ‘what’s with the sudden fascination with them?’
‘I like your boobs, you know this.’
You do. And you like his butt.
‘Come,’ you wrap your hand around his wrist and pull him into the shower. ‘I think you’re tired.’
And horny.
You turn the faucet to run the water.
As you’d imagine, not much showering is done.
‘Careful not to wet your hair,’ you warn him, but it’s too late.
‘I don’t care,’ he says flippantly as he takes your face between his hands and leans over to kiss you.
This is not what you came here to do.
You’re both covered in suds.
‘Jude, I need to rinse my body.’
‘Later,’ he mutters against your lips.
‘Jude!’ you squeal.
He’s such a Silly Billy when he wants to be.
You gasp into his passionate kiss when you suddenly feel the cold shower wall against your back. In a swift and slick movement, Jude trails kisses across your left shoulder and you tilt your head to one side to give him better access to your neck.
A soft moan escapes your parted lips as he sucks on the sensitive skin.
‘Jude. . .’
You want to tell him to stop, but the hand on his naked lower back pulls him into to you.
He hums into the kiss as his hand moves up your body to cup your boob, ‘Tonight, you’ve made me the happiest man alive.’
His vulnerability catches you off guard, how can you not give into him. . .
///
For breakfast this morning, you’re making honey butter toast using a recipe you found on the internet. It’s your first time making it and you’re not entirely sure what you’re doing here, but Jude saw it on Pinterest the other week and begged you to make it, so that’s what he’ll have for breakfast.
It’s a simple enough recipe, but knowing you and your iffy cooking skills, this could either be a major success or an epic fail—nothing in the middle. If it does fail though, you’ve got the regular bacon and egg fry-up on standby.
But only positive thoughts in this kitchen.
You’ve got your favourite morning playlist going softly in the background, and today’s what you consider the perfect Saturday morning. The sun is fully out, and the expansive windows of the apartment allow for the natural light to pour into the space and warms it.
You put the toast into the oven and set the timer.
At the end of the summer, your lease for this apartment will be up, but the likelihood of you extending it has significantly shrunk with the latest development in your life. The song goes, “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Y/N with a baby carriage,” but you’ve skipped parts, so some things need to be shifted around.
That means that the house hunting that you’ve been putting off needs to start. . . now, really.
This is where Coralie comes in handy, but you’re not talking to her. She actually reached out to you Sunday morning to apologise for your awkward encounter at the restaurant that night. Her text read:
Coralie: Last night, I overstepped and I’m really sorry and embarrassed by my actions. Please forgive me.
You’re yet to respond to the text, but you don’t plan to anytime soon because you don’t accept her stupid apology. As far as you’re concerned, she’s an insignificant homewrecker. She is two-faced and vindictive and incredibly cruel for subjecting you to such humiliation.
She laughed with you, acted like a friend when she was fucking your man behind your back for six months.
‘Bitch,’ you mumble as you load the dishes into the wash.
But she’s not worth the time, emotions, nor the energy. So with a deep breath, you bop thoughts of her out of your mind, and move on with your day.
Easy.
A half hour later, breakfast is ready to be served. You’ve gone all out with this meal, and it would be an absolute shame to not take a picture to post onto your IG story. Very quickly, you snap a picture to post later, and take the food to your sleeping boyfriend before the ice-cream starts to melt.
He’s still fast asleep, but he’s since shifted sleeping positions, and he’s hugging your pillow.
How cute?
When he wakes up, you expect him to be hungover and grouchy from all his boozing, and you just know he’ll play it up for attention. If there’s one thing you know about your boyfriend it’s that he dies for attention, and he simply cannot resist being babied.
‘Wakey wakey sleepyhead.’
You place the heavy tray onto the bedside table, on the other side of it to avoid it getting bumped by mistake, and attempt to wake him again.
Still, nothing.
‘Jude,’ you mount him, peppering a million tiny kisses against the side of his pretty face. Even in his slumber, he looks perfect. ‘Come on, you got your eight hours, it’s time to wake up.’
He grunts, then sends you away.
‘But I got food,’ you object with feigned sadness.
But he doesnʼt budge.
Alright, sweet coaxing out the window. ‘Babe, I made honey butter toast and the ice-cream’s rapidly melting. Wake up.’
There’s another silent beat and then, ‘What the hell is that?’
Of course he doesn’t remember what it is.
‘Honey butter toast,’ you repeat, as if it’ll somehow miraculously make him know what it is. ‘That bread you saw on Pinterest and begged me to make.’
He’s still clueless, but at least you’ve got his attention. Finally, with a long groan, he sits up, moving cautiously to not send you tumbling to the floor.
‘What time is it?’
‘Ten.’
He cusses softly as he rubs his face. ‘I’m supposed to meet with my parents at eleven.’
You didn’t know that.
But it’s clearly nothing pressing because he doesn’t seem fazed by the fact that he’s running late. He yawns, rubs his eyes and face some more, then turns to you—sitting comfortably on his lap—and smiles. ‘Good morning.’
You mirror his expression. ‘Morning. You hungry?’
‘Starving. What’s for breakfast?’
‘Here,’ you slide off his lap to take the tray and hand it to him. ‘It’s my first time making it, so be nice.’
He assesses the tray of food you’ve placed before him, then looks back up at you. ‘Nine out of ten for the presentation.’
Your brows furrow, ‘Why not ten?’
‘Some of the ice-cream has melted and it looks a bit sloppy.’
‘Yeah, and who’s fault is that?’
He lets out a hearty laugh, but you’re not amused by this judge.
You climb back onto the bed, your eyes fixed on Jude as he puts the first forkful of the honey butter toast, with a little bit of the vanilla ice-cream and salted caramel sauce, into his mouth.
He chews, then he moans, his eyes widen, more chewing, and then finally, he swallows.
This is a good reaction.
‘You like it?’
‘I love it,’ he cuts another piece of the toast. ‘Ten out of ten for the taste. Did you make the ice-cream and caramel sauce yourself?’
‘Alright, Paul Hollywood.’ You grab the extra fork you had on the tray and dig in—curious about the taste—and are met with protests from Jude. ‘I just want a little taste.’
‘Get your own.’
Your bottom lip juts out, it’s your turn to pout. ‘Yeah, but I’m pregnant.’
With a heavy sigh, he proclaims, ‘And so it starts.’
You can’t help but laugh at his solemn tone.
The two of you remain in bed, even after he’s finished having his breakfast, because his outing with his parents has now been postponed to two o’clock. If it were any other day, you’d join them, but you promised to accompany Winnie to the art gallery and you don’t think you can get out of it.
Turning into your side, Jude questions, ‘Why does she have to go to the art gallery?’
Because she’s in her art girl era, inspired by her latest fling, an up-and-coming visual artist from Portugal. His name’s Baltasar, and they met at Coachella a couple months back, and lately, he’s all she ever talks about. You think she’s in love.
‘A visual artist?’
‘Yep.’
‘So he’s broke?’
‘Hey, don’t be mean,’ you chide.
He doesn’t care though, he thinks it’s funny.
‘You’re such an asshole, d’you know that?’
‘Babe, I’m just kidding.’
Yeah, right.
‘Well, she really likes him so if she mentions it to you, keep the bad jokes to yourself.’
‘Noted,’ his mouth connects with your cheek.
The conversation smoothly transitions from Winnie’s new boyfriend to Jobe, who’s relentlessly trying to convince his older brother to take a short trip to Ibiza before he has to report for international duty. You think it’s a great idea, a final hoorah before it gets serious again.
‘Will you come with?’
‘Ibiza sober? Count me out.’
‘I’ll drink for the both of us.’
‘Uh, definitely not,’ your fingers glide up and down his naked back. ‘And I think Jobe wants this to be a boy’s trip. No girlfriends.’
‘But you’re not my girlfriend.’
Huh? ‘I’m not?’
‘You recently got upgraded to baby mum.’
He’s an idiot. Who even laughs at their own jokes this much? Either way, you’re not going to Ibiza with them. It’s another half hour of mindless chatter before you ask,
‘What time is it?’
‘Early.’
‘Jude, I’m being serious,’ you reach blindly for your phone and find it on the other end of the bed. ‘I need to start getting ready.’
‘Can’t you postpone it for another day?’
‘Winnie leaves tomorrow night.’
But he’s not budging, and so you have to use all of your might to shove him off of you.
Your strength leaves him shook. ‘Where’d that come from?’
‘It’s all those training sessions you’re paying for.’
He swells with pride—men.
‘Will you join me?’
Jude perks up.
‘But we’re only showering, nothing else.’
And he’s dejected.
‘I’ll just sit on the side and watch.’
That’s fine by you.
He follows you into the bathroom, and you think you hear him mumble something about you making it worth his while.
///
What your gallery date conveniently forgot to mention was that Baltasar would be joining your gallery excursion. Had you known he’d be here, you would’ve asked Jude to tag along so it could be a double date or something.
Jude: How’s it going? 🖼️
You’re miserable here, and you’re pretty sure you’re third wheeling. And look, you want to be supportive of your best friend, right? But it’s so hard to be when the guy she’s seeing’s the textbook definition of an asshole.
You’re one pretentious comment away from faking morning sickness to get out of this.
You: I’m having the worst time
You: The art is great, but he’s so smug 🙄
And he’s rude, so rude, and he’s determined to talk over you.
Jude: The artist? 🎨🧑🎨
You: Yeah, I don’t think he likes me :/
And you’d actually be doing him a favour by leaving, you’d be doing you both the favour because at this point, you feel like you’re intruding and you’re starting to feel awkward.
Jude: Well fuck him
His text makes you chortle.
At least Winnie’s making an effort to include you. Every now and again, she’ll ask for your opinion on certain pieces, but in the end, you just can’t do it.
You can’t be here anymore.
‘Hey,’ you lightly tap Winnie’s shoulder.
She turns to regard you, ‘Hey, what’s up?’
‘Can I talk to you for a second?’
‘Sure.’
She excuses herself from Baltasar, who’s really displeased with your intrusion, and you find a quiet corner.
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah, everything’s fine, the art’s great, but I’m not feeling too hot.’
‘Oh no,’ her brows knit in concern, ‘is it morning sickness?’
She’s buying it, good.
‘I think I’m going to head home, you know, to lie down for a couple hours.’
‘Yeah, alright,’ she takes your hand in hers and lightly squeezes it.
‘But how will you get back to the apartment?’
You are her ride home after all.
‘I was planning on spending the rest of the afternoon with Baltasar,’ she looks over her shoulder at him and when she looks back at you, she’s blushing, ‘but what about you? Are you fine to drive in your condition?’
‘It’s just a little nausea, I promise I’ll be fine.’
It takes a minute to convince her, but you don’t relent, and in the end, you manage to convince her.
‘Now go,’ you nudge her towards her waiting love interest. ‘Have fun with your boyfriend–’
‘Uh, he’s not my boyfriend,’ she quickly interjects, her voice dropping to a scolding whisper.
You smile knowingly, sure he isn’t.
‘What makes you say he’s my boyfriend? Did he say something to you?’
‘No, but I saw the way you were looking at him,’ you shrug, ‘the way he was looking at you.’
Winnie’s uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden.
‘I’ve clearly misread the situation,’ you start backing away from her. ‘But we’ll talk more about it later, okay?’
‘Promise to text me when you get home.’
‘I pinky promise to call you when I get home,’ you blow her a kiss.
You wave goodbye to Baltsar, who seems pleased to see you go, and then you’re out of there.
It’s a short drive home from the gallery, and you’re glad to be back home, but you wish Jude was here with you.
You: I miss you.
As soon as the message’s sent, you regret sending it. But you can always blame pregnancy for making you so clingy.
You fall back onto the bed with a long exhale. What to do with your time? You could watch a movie or you could go the self-care route.
The other day, a skincare brand sent you a few collagen face masks you’ve been dying to try. It’s one of those that melts into your skin. And since you’re on that path, you can also soak in the tub ‘cause you haven’t done that in a while. And if you’re really up to it, maybe you can do your nails.
But first:
You: Got home safe. Have fun with your friend ;) can’t wait to hear about it later x
Jude misses you too. He’s also still with his parents but should be home before dinner.
You: Did you tell them about… 🫄
Jude: No. I thought we’d do it together.
That’s a good plan.
You: Great idea. I’ll see you later, I love you x
Jude: I love you more 😘
Dinner time’s a while away, so you’ve got plenty of time to have your self-care afternoon.
The tub is halfway full, the bubbles foaming, the steam and aroma engulfing the space when your phone notifies you that someone’s at the door.
Your body’s sheathed by a robe, but you still feel indecent as you make your way to the door.
The doorbell goes off a second time just before you reach the door, and when you open it, the last person you expect to find standing on the other side of it is Coralie.
Yes, Coralie’s at your door and she looks like. . . Well, she looks like shit.
‘Y/N,’ she forces her lips into a tight smile. ‘Hi.’
The shock has you frozen for a moment, but you’re quick to recover. ‘Jude’s not home.’
You’re curt because you want her out of your sight and you’ve left the water running in the bathroom.
‘I know he isn’t.’
She does?
‘I’m not here to see Jude, I’m actually here to see you.’
Of course she’s here to see you.
‘Why?’
‘‘Cause there’s so much we need to talk about, woman to woman.’
“Woman to woman”, what a joke? And it takes everything in you to stop your eyes from rolling. What the fuck does that even mean?
‘Can’t we schedule this for another time? I’m kinda in a rush.’
‘It won’t take long, I promise.’
Hell, she can’t take a hint, can she?
‘Can I come in?’
‘We can’t talk about whatever it is here?’ you tighten your grip around the door handle to stop your hand from shaking. ‘I mean, you said it yourself, it won’t take long.’
‘Yeah, but it’s weird doing it at the door, so can I come in?’
‘You’re in no position to call the shots.’
‘Please,’ she sounds desperate. ‘I just need ten minutes of your time, then I promise I’ll go.’
The more you look at her, the worse she looks. Honestly, she looks like she’s been to hell and back, and if you didn’t hate her so much, you’d feel sympathy.
‘Ten minutes, then you have to leave.’
‘That’s all I ask, thank you.’
And so despite your better judgement, you step to one side to allow her into the apartment. As you shut the door, you offer her a drink.
‘I’ll have a water, thank you.’
‘We’ve got water in the fridge.’ You walk towards your bedroom to shut off the running water, ‘I’ll be with you in a moment.’
On the short trek, you dig your phone from your robe pocket.
You: Coralie’s here she says she wants to talk but i’m uneasy
You shut the faucet. You quickly change out of your robe into the first clothing items you stumble upon, which are the sweats Jude was wearing earlier. They’re loosely fitting, but they’re comforting because they smell like him.
Coralie’s in the living room, bottle of water in hand, and she’s focused on something out the window.
‘Sorry I took so long.’
Your sudden intrusion snaps her out of her reverie, ‘It’s fine.’
Her eyes are fixed on you as you move around the space to take your seat on the sectional, feet tucked beneath your bum.
This is so awkward.
‘So,’ you start, breaking the ice, ‘you said you wanted to talk?’
You heard Jude out, so it’s only fair that you hear Coralie’s side of the story.
‘Right,’ she clears her throat. ‘I assume you know about our. . .’
‘Affair?’
She winces at your choice of words.
‘Yeah, I do.’
‘And he told you everything?’
‘That you got drunk last December and hooked up? That you’ve been hooking up behind my back for the last six months?’
She sits perfectly still, but her trembling lower lip betrays her.
‘That you were sending inappropriate texts, pictures, and videos. . .’ you continue, pleased to see her squirm in her seat. ‘Am I missing anything else?’
It’s only been, what? Five days since you last saw her, but in the short time span, she’s aged a decade. Coralie’s never disclosed her age, but you’ve always placed her in her late-twenties, maybe early-thirties, but today she looks well into her forties.
‘How did you find out?’
‘I saw the drunk text you sent him, what did it say again?’ you pause for dramatic effect. ‘Right, “I’m drunk and I miss you. Call me.”’
She’s fidgeting with the bottle in her hand, her head bowing in shame. ‘Y/N, I’m really sorry.’
‘What are you apologising for?’
‘All of it.’ She looks up at you, ‘I’m sorry that you found out the way you did.’
You hear her, but you’re not ready to accept her apology. Especially because she’s cutting into your self-care time with this crap.
‘Who made the first move?’
‘Jude did.’
Your heart aches at the revelation, it’s like someone has driven a sharp knife into it.
‘He was upset at you, he didn’t say why but he was really cut up about a fight you had,’ she proceeds. ‘And if it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else.’
You think you might throw up.
‘But he was drunk, we both were, and. . .’ her voice trails.
An uncomfortable silence descends upon the room because really, what else is there to say?
‘Do you love him?’
‘Does it matter?’
It doesn’t matter, but you want to know. Let’s say it’s curiosity.
‘He’s hard not to love.’
That’s true.
‘But am I in love with him? No.’
Some of the tension in your shoulders eases.
‘And he doesn’t love me either,’ and she almost sounds sad when she says that. ‘It was only ever sex between us, nothing more.’
But the texts. . . what did they mean?
‘Nothing,’ she insists. ‘Call it harmless flirtation.’
‘Harmless?’
She flushes, ‘You know what I mean.’
So you now know that he was mad at you, they were both drunk, they fucked and you think Coralie regrets it, but you’re not sure.
‘Who pursued it?’
‘What?’
‘Your. . . thing, the affair,’ it irks you to say it.
‘Oh, Y/N, I don’t think you–’
‘Was it Jude?’
‘He loves you.’
‘I know he loves me.’
Coralie’s quiet which furthers your frustration at her.
‘Did he pursue the affair?’
‘Why does it matter? It doesn’t change anything because in the end, he chose you.’ It’s like it pains her to say it. ‘He’ll always choose you.’
You nod.
After another long and awkward silence, she professes, ‘You know, I felt awful deceiving you because you really are such a good person.’
‘Don’t start with that crap.’
‘No, I mean it. You’re a good person, and we were friends–’
‘We were never friends,’ you interrupt. ‘You were never my friend.’
You tolerated her, there’s a difference.
‘I know you’re upset with me, and trust me, I get it, but come on,’ she persists. ‘We were friendly with each other.’
‘You sleep with all your friends’ boyfriends?’
That shuts her up.
‘Look, Coralie, I appreciate the apology,’ you pull your phone from the sweatpants pocket to check the time and discover eight missed calls from Jude. ‘But you said you’d be here for ten minutes, and you’ve exceeded that time.’
‘I know, and I’m really sorry about that, but there’s one last thing I want to tell you.’
Your stomach twists with dread—she better not tell you that she’s pregnant. The cheating you can move past, but a child you can’t recover from.
‘You’re pregnant?’
‘What?’ She looks offended that you’d even ask her that question. ‘No, I’m not pregnant.’
You sigh in relief.
She’s not pregnant, but she did lose her job. She received the call this morning to let her know that her services were no longer required by the club. She’s certain Jude had something to do with it, so she’s here to plead with you to talk sense into him.
‘And I meant what I said, I really am sorry for the inconvenience that I’ve caused in your life, but Y/N, I really need this job,’ she concludes.
‘How are you so sure he had something to do with it?’
She shoots you an incredulous look as if to say, ‘Really?’
‘And if he did have something to do with it, what makes you think he’d listen to anything I have to say?’
‘Because you told him to end our arrangement and he did.’
‘But you said it yourself, you mean nothing to him.’
She flinches again.
‘I mean, I can try to talk to him, but I can’t promise you anything.’
‘Thank you,’ she smiles. ‘That’s all I ask.’
‘Well, like I said, I have somewhere to be so–’
You don’t get to finish the sentence, ‘cause you’re cut off by a panicked Jude who storms into the apartment, followed by an equally panicked Mark.
‘Babe?’
Thank the heavens he’s here.
///
You wake up in the middle of the night to find Jude’s side of the bed empty. At first you think he’s in the bathroom, but when five minutes pass and he’s not back, the panic sets in. You grab your phone off of the bedside table to check the time: 2:38.
Where the hell is he?
You sit up and search the dark room for traces of him, but there’s nothing—only his phone on the bedside table.
It’s been hours since your confrontation with Coralie, but you’re yet to process it all. You’re still in shock at the fact that she rocked up at your door the way she did, but you’d be lying if you said the conversation wasn’t cathartic.
‘Jude?’
You push the covers away and climb off of the bed. After you locate your house shoes, you set out to find him.
His phone is here, so he shouldn’t be far.
‘Jude?’
As you make your trek down the short passage, you hear soft chatter coming from the TV room. When you turn the corner, you find Jude sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him, feet resting on the coffee table.
A smile takes over your face at the sight of him.
‘Hey, you,’ he greets you as you crawl into his lap.
‘Hi,’ you tuck your face in the crook of his neck and inhale his scent. ‘What are you watching?’
‘Pulp Fiction.’
Of course he is.
‘Why’re you up?’
You trace patterns on his t-shirt clad chest. ‘I woke up and you weren’t in bed. I panicked.’
He tightens his arms around you, ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ you sit up. ‘This pregnancy has me acting weird.’
‘Yeah, blame it on the pregnancy,’ he teases.
‘Shut up,’ you shift to straddle him. ‘Why are you sitting here alone?’
His hands settle on your waist, ‘I didn’t want to wake you.’
There’s still so much to discuss in terms of Coralie and her claims, but tonight just isn’t the time for that.
‘Do you think we’ll ever be okay again?’
‘Yeah,’ he takes your mouth into a deep kiss.
‘Come to bed with me,’ you whisper against his lips, moaning when he slips a hand between you, teasing his fingers through your slick folds.
‘I don’t think we’ll make it to bed.’
///
Tagged:
@luv4bellingham
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↳ Index [Chapter 01 - Besuch]
• Besuch (German; noun: visit)
Focus on Pairing: Taehyung x f.Reader
Warnings: so many fluffy sweet moments, talks about polyamory & sexuality, Tae suffers from PTSD, but he gets so much comfort, Yoongi is a nervous cutie, Jungkook is so sweet <3
Wordcount: 14.5k
a/n: OMFG BESTIES WE'RE FINALLY BACK IN BUSINESS! I'M SO HAPPY TO BE BACK WITH A LIL STORY FOR YOU GAAAH 💙
“Okay. Are you ready?”
“I am.”
“Me too.”
“Where’s Yoongi?”
“He said that he’ll be here soon.”
“I could call him.”
The door opens.
“I’m sorry I’m late, I couldn’t get the button to close”, Yoongi says, running to get to you and the others. You are busy closing the safety circle while the others are waiting on your floor surrounded by your travel bags.
“Why are you dressed like this?” Taehyung asks, following Yoongi with his eyes.
Yoongi looks down at his own body. He is wearing a black suit with a small white boutonniere in his front pocket.
“What’s wrong with my outfit?” he asks with a pout, “you’re wearing a suit too.”
Taehyung, dressed in an emerald green suit, shrugs his shoulders.
“It is just that these are my normal clothes, but you look as if you stumbled out of the wrong movie.”
“Why? What’s wrong with my clothes?” Yoongi whines, “I’m meeting her grandma. Can’t I dress up for that?”
You and the others laugh fondly.
“Stop laughing, you brats”, he hisses, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“I’m just laughing because you’re so cute, my love”, you tell him, sitting down cross legged and patting the spot next to you, “sit down.”
Yoongi follows, tugging and pulling at his clothes insecurely. He can’t even look at your eyes because he feels so insecure in them all of a sudden.
You lean in and give him a smooch on his cheek, “you look so handsome.”
Yoongi blushes, “thanks”, he mumbles.
“I also think that you’re handsome, hyungie”, Jungkook says. He is dressed in a fancy shirt and slacks and has his hair in a neat half-updo.
“Thanks”, Yoongi says.
“I still think that you look peculiar”, Taehyung teases.
“Tae, stop that”, you say, hitting his leg gently.
“Fine. I won’t say anything again”, Taehyung gives up and snickers.
“You’re a brat”, Yoongi says.
“Can we start now?” you ask, looking between him and Taehyung fondly.
“Yes, of course”, Taehyung says and takes your hand. Next he takes Jungkook’s hand, holding it tightly.
“I guess. It’s so mean, I dressed up for the occasion and I get made fun of”, Yoongi murmurs with a pout as he takes your and Jungkook’s hands.
“I wasn’t making fun-”
“Hush, you guys. Focus. I need to channel your powers and I can’t concentrate when you talk”, you stop them in a chuckle.
The two bickering vampires stop, looking at you with the most innocent of eyes.
“Now”, you begin, “close your eyes and relax. It’ll tingle a little.”
The next time you open your eyes again, the scent of pine and wild herbs tickles your noses.
The ground beneath your feet crunches like small, angular stones. You run your eyes over your surroundings. Your lovers are beside you, looking around with awe in their eyes.
A high, dense forest surrounds you. The call of a blackbird echoes high above your heads and the humming of thousands of insects hangs in the air.
“Remarkable”, Taehyung gets out under his breath.
“Yeah right”, Jungkook whispers.
You find yourselves on a narrow gravel road. The road is just wide enough for one car and on the parts where no tires run along, high grasses and forest flowers grow. They tickle your legs as you stand in them. It is a nice sensation.
You know this road. Behind your backs, it leads into denser forests and high mountain paths. In front of your eyes, it will bring you to your grandmother’s house. You took this path a hundred times when you were younger. You will always find your way on it.
“Are we right here? Where are we? It looked different the last time we were here”, Jungkook asks.
“Yes, we’re right. It’s just not the back entrance”, you assure him, “come, follow me. I know the way”, you say and shoulder your bag, taking confident steps into the correct direction.
The three vampires lift their own bags and follow you with their eyes sparkling in awe. At least those of Taehyung and Jungkook, Yoongi’s eyes are glued to the ground.
“I can’t believe that you truly managed to get us here”, Taehyung says, following a squirrel with his eyes as it escapes through the trees, “a squirrel! Right above our heads!”
“Where?” Jungkook gasps.
“There. Right there”, Taehyung shows him and after some intense searching, Jungkook finally finds it.
“Wow a squirrel! So cute!” he exclaims in a terribly cute voice. He and Taehyung share giggles and hold hands, swinging them back and forth happily.
You hold hands with Yoongi, who has been worryingly quiet until now.
“My love?” you call his attention with a soft pull at his hand.
His head snaps to you, “mhm?” his eyes are widened.
“Are you okay? You’re really quiet.”
“I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
He nods his head, “nervous”, he confesses and looks away.
“You’re nervous?”
He nods his head, rubbing the side of his neck.
“I never really did the whole, uhm, meeting my partner’s family and stuff before. Uh, yeah, it’s new to me. Scary, uh, yeah.”
“Aww my love, don’t be nervous. My grandma will love you so much.”
“Yeah, uhm”, he lowers his head shyly.
“I’m serious, love. She told me that she saw glimpses of you in my memories and that she can see how well you treat me”, you assure him, hugging his arm, “don’t worry, she’ll look at you and see a kind, sweet and very loveable person. Yeah?”
He nods his head and glances at you. He squeezes your hand just once and leans in to kiss your cheek.
“Thank you”, he whispers.
“I’m only saying the truth”, you say and pull Jungkook and Taehyung closer by holding Taehyung’s hand, “as a matter of fact, she’ll love all of you. Oh, you guys”, you begin skipping in happiness, “I’m so, so happy to be back and to see my grandma again and to introduce her to you.”
“I’m really happy too. I can’t wait to see grandma again”, Jungkook says, watching you with sparkling eyes. You are so happy. He likes that you are.
“I am very excited as well, my darling. I cannot wait to try her raspberry pie.”
“Yes, god you really can’t”, you say and wiggle your shoulders, “it’s so, so yummy.”
Another squirrel scurries past you, crossing the narrow gravel road in small jumps. Jungkook giggles.
“It’s so cute.”
“It truly is”, Taehyung says, “however, I cannot find an explanation as to why there are animals and insects living here. Isn’t this a realm for the souls of deceased witches and warlocks? How come there is other form of life in this realm?”
You all look at Yoongi for an answer.
“What?”
“Why are there animals and insects here?”
“It’s just the way it is. I don’t know.”
“But didn’t Namjoon create this realm? Shouldn’t he have talked to you about his plans for it?”
“He did. I don’t know, it’s been too long. Maybe it’s because he loved plants and animals back then. I don’t know, sorry I’m nervous”, Yoongi says, ending his rant by exhaling loudly and blinking his eyes at you.
You give his hand an encouraging squeeze.
“It’s okay, love. Thank you for telling us.”
“Okay, okay I apologise for asking”, Taehyung says and reaches past you to caress Yoongi’s arm, “don’t be nervous, hyung. I am sure that you will be welcomed splendidly. If there is someone who should be nervous, it should be me.”
“Don’t say that, Tae. She’ll love you as well”, you insist.
“Yes, well”, Taehyung lets out a nervous chuckle, “she saw how wonderfully Yoongi treated you, so I am sure that she must have seen how awfully I acted.”
“Even if she did, that means she also saw how much you changed for the better. Don’t worry my darling, she will love you just as much as she’ll love Yoongi and Kookie.”
“Okay, okay”, Taehyung says and grins shyly, “thank you for saying this.”
You hug his arm against you and give it a little kiss.
“Of course, my sweetest”, you say and straighten up, “now let’s go. I can’t wait to see her again. Oh, I’m so happy. Do you guys think that she can feel that we are coming?”
“I am certain that she could sense it.”
“Yes, I get the feeling as well”, Jungkook assures you, while Yoongi is still lost in his nervous thoughts.
The walk to your grandmother’s cottage is a long one, but a terribly beautiful one. Being in nature is truly the best thing one can be. The long grasses and colourful flowers brush against your legs as you wander. The trees sway in the warm breeze and the sun shines through the canopy and makes light dance all around you.
“Did you know that there is a word in Japanese which describes the light shining through leaves?” Taehyung asks.
“No, I didn’t”, Jungkook says to which you agree with a shake of your head.
Yoongi seems to know already, because he doesn’t react. Or perhaps he is currently completely dissociated in nervousness. That would explain why he is staring into the distance with dazed eyes.
“Indeed there is”, Taehyung says, “komorebi. It is a beautiful word and I would say that it is rather fitting for such a beautiful view.”
“Yes”, you agree, letting your eyes follow the light. It is as if it was in a dance with the shadow, creating ever changing paintings, “yes I agree. Komorebi. I have to remember this word.”
“Thank you for telling us. I learned something new”, Jungkook says, painting great happiness onto Taehyung’s features.
The cottage is within reach. You can see the cozy house and the colourful, loved garden surrounding it. The rather unwelcome wooden stake fence doesn’t greet you this time around. A normal wooden fence stands in its stead. There are high wooden pillars on each side of the road and a wooden arch on which roses climb up and bloom. The gates are currently open, inviting you inside.
“It’s so peculiar not to see grandma’s staked fence”, you say.
“But it was there the last time we visited her, right?” Jungkook makes sure.
You nod your head, “it must be because we accidentally switched from my memories to this world. Remember? There were no stakes when we left the realm again, but because we were too preoccupied with our emotions, we didn’t really notice it.”
“Yes, right. Right, now that you mention it, I didn’t see any stakes when we left. So that means that we’re right, ___. You actually took us to the safe realm where no vampires are present.”
Jungkook breaks away from Taehyung and gets in front of you and the others. You all come to a stop. He steps closer and puts his hand on the chests of Taehyung and Yoongi. While Taehyung smiles at him, Yoongi seems to come back to reality with the touch. He blinks rapidly, gawking at Jungkook.
The latter smiles and bounces on the spot.
“You’re human”, he says, “you guys are human. We’re all human again”, he says and touches his own chest, “my pulse is back. Wow!”
Taehyung and Yoongi touch their chests and while Taehyung seems marvelled by it, Yoongi exhales shakily, blinking away the emotion in his eyes. He tightens his fingers around the fabric of his shirt, furrowing his brows.
“Oh how fascinating”, Taehyung gasps, looking at you, “darling, I can feel my heart beat.”
“I know”, you say, touching him gently, “I can feel it too, Tae.”
Taehyung smiles and places his hand over yours, pulling you closer this way, “sweetest”, he whispers and kisses you. It is a nice revelation that his first instinct upon being human again, is to kiss you. You kiss him back with a racing heart and in return, you can feel his heart race in his chest. Oh, how good it feels to kiss him.
By the time you pull back for air, you are just a little dizzy. He smiles at you, squeezing your hand gently. You retort his smile.
Jungkook’s giggles make both of you turn into his direction. He is giggling at Yoongi, while the latter is looking into Jungkook’s face. Their hands are on each other’s chests, feeling the other’s heartbeat.
“I can count the beats, hyungie”, Jungkook says, “your pulse is real.”
“Yeah, I know”, Yoongi answers him.
“It’s beating so fast.”
“Yeah, I know…”
You join their sides, caressing their arms.
Jungkook pulls you into a group hug instantly, smothering you between his body and Yoongi’s.
“Oh? Okay”, you accept your fate with giggles, which only grow when you can feel Taehyung join the group hug as well.
“We are human again”, Jungkook says and begins jumping in a circle. You join him soon even if Yoongi whines about it. It’s just way too exciting to be with each other.
“Honeybee!” someone calling your nickname breaks the group hug. The boys release you, watching with curious eyes as a couple seem to hurry to you. They are dressed in flowy summer clothes and seem to be in their forties. Jungkook is smiling, waving his hand.
“Grandma! Hello!” he calls out, but you can’t hear him anymore.
Your grandfather is next to your grandmother. Safe and sound. And alive. He is actually alive.
“Grandpa?!” you gasp, “you- oh”, you stop talking to instead run to them.
They welcome you with open arms, engulfing you in the kind of hug only loving grandparents can give. Despite promising yourself not to cry, you still do. You went so many years without them and to see both of them again, well and alive, overwhelms you in the best way possible.
“You’re alive! Grandpa, you’re alive!”
“Hello my little forest strider, how have you been?”
“Oh grandpa, I missed you so much”, you choke out and sob into his chest.
“Mhm, my girl”, he says and pulls you closer.
You break away after a few moments of emotional hugging, eyes switching between your grandparents’ faces.
“You guys are so young and, and you’re both here. I don’t understand. How can you be here?”
“This is a peaceful world. A good world. I am here because Agatha wanted me to be here.”
“And you are real? You are truly real?”
“I am”, your grandfather smiles and tugs your grandmother closer, “she just couldn’t say goodbye to me, could she?”
“How could I, Harald? I need to have someone I can annoy”, she jokes, which makes him laugh and kiss her cheek. She takes your hand afterwards, “there is a way to make sure that your loved ones will find peace in this world even if they aren’t born witches.”
“There is?”
“Yes, yes there is, but I will tell you later. My boys, welcome”, she says and turns to your three boys with open arms, “I’m Agatha, but you can call me grandma as well. Jungkook my dear, welcome back.”
“I’m so happy to be back, grandma”, he says, bowing his head.
She however tugs him into a hug, forcing a squeak out of him as he stumbles into her loving embrace. He is so much taller than her, lowering himself for her comfort.
“Welcome back, my boy. How have you been?”
“Good, really good. I missed you.”
They break the hug, but she keeps holding his hands.
“It’s so nice to have you back for a happy occasion”, she says to which he agrees with an enthusiastic nod.
Afterwards he turns to your grandfather, giving him a tight handshake.
“It is so nice to meet you. I’m Jungkook.”
“Agatha already told me a lot about you. It’s good to finally put a face to the stories”, he says and grabs his upper arm, “you’re a strong one. I can feel it. Are those tattoos?”
“Oh, uhm…” Jungkook blushes, “yes, I guess they are.”
“Aha, I see. How far up do they go?” he asks, trying to tug Jungkook’s shirt further up his arm.
Jungkook laughs nervously, glancing at you as a call for help. But before you can save him from your grandfather’s nosy, yet kindly meant, hands, your grandmother does.
“Harald, don’t be nosy. Dear god”, your grandmother swipes his hand away, turning her attention to Yoongi next.
“You must be Yoongi.”
“I am”, he croaks out, “sorry”, he says and bows deeply, clearing his throat as he does, “nice to meet you and thank you so much for housing us”, he says and bows at your grandfather as well.
“I’m happy to have you, my dear”, she says and gives his arm a soft caress.
“Agatha told me that you enjoy woodworking. I was a carpenter in my time”, your grandfather says and takes both his hands to inspect them, “mhm good worker hands. They don’t fit your face.”
“Uh? Thank you, yeah, uhm.”
Your grandmother rolls her eyes at him because he is being nosy again.
“___ told me that you were a carpenter. Yeah, uhm”, Yoongi pulls his hands out of your grandfather’s hold and scratches his own ear shyly, “I think woodworking is good. Yeah”, he mumbles and clears his throat again.
Your grandfather smiles. Yoongi is shy. Just as Agatha had told him.
Taehyung bows at both of your grandparents as well, “I am Taehyung. It is truly wonderful to finally meet the people who are so utterly important to ___.”
“We could say the same about you”, she says and studies him from head to toe. There is just the slightest, smallest, faintest mistrust in them.
“I, uhm”, Taehyung begins fumbling in his bag, “I have something for you”, he says and pulls out a box.
Your grandmother accepts it, opening it.
“Oh? Seeds?”
“Yes, indeed. They are seeds from our garden. ___ told me that she inherited her enjoyment for gardening from you and I thought that growing seeds from our garden in your own could be a special way to connect our families.”
Your grandmother exchanges a look with your grandfather. They smile, reaching out for a warm caress to Taehyung’s arms.
“Thank you, boy. We will cherish them.”
“This is such a wonderful gift, thank you my dear”, your grandmother says and points at the house, “come, I bet you must be really exhausted from the journey.”
“Not really. ___ did a really good job at sending us here”, Jungkook says and looks around, “it looks a lot nicer here than last time.”
“That’s because you entered this realm willingly and not accidentally. That is also why your heartbeats feel so real and why you can take bags with you. Because your bodies are actually here.”
“Woah, that’s wild to me. Did you know that, hyung?”
Yoongi shakes his head, “no, I’m sorry. I don’t know a lot about this world”, he murmurs shyly.
“I see. That’s okay, but you seem to know a lot, grandma.”
“Oh? Oh no”, she laughs, “I know enough to know that this world is safe, but that it will also be punishing to people who aren’t dead yet.”
“What do you mean? Are we in danger?”
“Only if you die in here. You will be lost forever, which is not a nice fate to have.”
“Oh god. You guys gotta be extra careful from now on. Okay?” you tell your three boys.
“We will, don’t worry”, Jungkook assures you to which the others agree.
“I’m sure nothing will happen”, your grandfather says and places his arm over your grandmother’s shoulder, “are you hungry? We were just about to start dinner when Agatha felt you enter this realm.”
“Dinner sounds lovely, Harald?” Taehyung says, “please forgive me if I got your name wrong.”
“You got it right. Name’s Harald, but you can call me grandpa if you want to.”
“It is lovely to meet you, Harald. ___ told me a great deal about you. You mean a lot to her.”
“Oh, she means more to me. My little girl, she’s my treasure.”
Taehyung feels warm in his chest. He loves to know that you have family who truly and honestly love you.
“We made raspberry pie as well”, your grandmother says.
“Yes, pie! I’m so ready to eat at least three slices!” you exclaim happily and take her hand, “grandma, can I have the recipe? I forgot to ask you last time, but I would really love to make it at home.”
“Of course, my honeybee. Do you have raspberry bushes at your home as well?”
“I do. Yoongi wants to teach me one day how I can make them grow like you make yours grow, but for now I have to learn better control.”
“Control is really important. I’m impressed that you managed to get all of you here unharmed.”
“I know. Oh god, grandma I was so nervous you have no idea.”
You take off your shoes by the front door. Your grandmother scurries off to prepare lemonade, while your grandfather leads you upstairs. He is carrying your bag because he insisted that it is a grandfather’s job to carry his grandchild’s bags.
“It’s so cozy here”, Jungkook says.
“Aye, cozy it is”, your grandfather says, leading you to your bedroom, “I built all of it myself. Not in this world, but the real one. The house was already there when I came here. Don’t ask me how it works, Agatha’s the one with magic, I’m just here to be her support.”
He makes you laugh with it. He smiles fondly, putting your bag on your bed.
“Two of you can sleep here. The rest can sleep in the guestroom. Ignore the mess on the desk. I use it as my hobby room when it’s just the two of us.”
“What do you enjoy as a hobby?” Taehyung asks, walking next to him. They are the same height, carrying themselves with good posture.
“I’m a collector of old weapons. Without the ammunition of course. I spend a lot of time cleaning and restoring old weapons.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful. I have quite a few rare pieces in my own collection. I shall bring some of them with me next time we visit.”
“So you’re a collector too?”
“I am sure not as passionate as you, but my age automatically comes with many trinkets and pieces, which I find myself collecting.”
“I see, well anyways, that’s the guest room. Make yourselves comfortable”, he says and studies you, “however that will work. Do you pull cards to decide?”
“We prefer to decide spontaneously.”
“I see, well anyways, rest for a bit, get comfortable. I’m downstairs for now”, he says and turns to leave. He gives you a hug before he does, patting your head, “my girl.”
Once it is just the four of you, Taehyung speaks.
“I got the feeling that he wanted to ask more about our situation, but he didn’t know how.”
“Knowing my grandpa, he really did. Especially because I came back dating three men, who also date each other.”
“Mostly. Some are only acquaintances”, Yoongi corrects you, making Taehyung gasp dramatically.
“Acquaintances? Excuse me? Have we not spent enough centuries together to at least be friends?”
“I don’t know. You made fun of my outfit.”
“Oh, hyung you”, he nudges his arm, “you know that I was only jesting. You look very handsome.”
“Whatever”, Yoongi says and looks around the room awkwardly.
“Do you guys like it here?” you ask them.
“It’s so cozy. I like it a lot.”
“It also smells very good.”
“It does, gosh. And look, you can see the forest from here”, you say, hurrying to the small window.
Your three boys gather behind you, trying to get a glimpse.
“I spent a lot of time in this forest. I can’t believe that I get to walk in it again. We are gonna take walks in it, aren’t we?”
“Of course. I even packed my walking shoes for this occasion.”
“I’m so happy, you guys”, you say, following your grandmother with your eyes as she is hurrying through the garden to pick some mint, “I wanna go downstairs and help them.”
“We’ll come with you.”
You spent the rest of the day together, talking and laughing. You tell your grandparents everything which happened in the years they weren’t with you anymore and it felt so good to do because this time around, you know that you had no rush in speaking. Yoongi was with you again. Taehyung and Jungkook as well. Everything was well and you are allowed to waste time telling silly stories of your life. Your grandparents are so very happy to listen to every single one of them. And so you spent the day talking until the moon replaced the sun in the sky and the crickets sang their nightly songs.
Yoongi helped your grandmother with dinner. You could listen to them bond over food. They even exchanged recipes and chatted about bread making. It made you feel really good inside to hear how Yoongi talks to your grandmother. Respectful and in a soft spoken voice. He is such a gentle person.
You and your other two boys wanted to help as well, but then your grandfather dragged you into a game of cards. He was sure that he could win, because he always won when you were still a child, but soon had to realise that his little girl was all grown up now. It made him a little sad and so you let him win the next round, which made him tease you in the adoring way he always teased you when he won. It made you really happy. You missed the game of cards with your grandfather.
Dinner has been served by now. You sit around the table, sharing the food your grandmother and Yoongi prepared with utmost love. It tastes so good that everyone goes for a second serving. You even go for a third because the combination of Yoongi’s cooking and your grandmother’s cooking is quite frankly, the most delicious combination to ever exist. Two cuisines which taste like home mixed into one. Truly, food couldn’t get any better than this.
You talk about food for most of it. Soon your grandfather leads the conversation to a different topic however. It was during dessert when tea was shared with your grandmother’s raspberry pie. You feed a spoonful to Taehyung and then to Jungkook, doing so with giggles on your lips.
“Is it yummy?” you ask them.
“Really, I missed your pie so much”, Jungkook murmurs.
“It is so sweet and rich in flavours. I truly enjoy it”, Taehyung gushes.
“Well, thank you my dear”, your grandmother says with fondness in her eyes. She likes to know when people enjoy her food. Especially her pies. She is very proud of her pies. All the recipes are her creations and she takes great pride in them. She wipes down the counters with a happy smile on her lips, listening to the conversation.
You break off another piece of the pie and turn to Yoongi.
“Now you, my love”, you tell him.
Yoongi meets you in the middle with an open mouth. He takes the pie off your fork gently, meeting your eyes shyly.
“And?”
He chews and swallows, nodding his head.
“Mhm”, he lets out, “really good. How are you getting the raspberry flavors to stay so intense, Agatha?”
“I couldn’t tell you. I think my raspberries really like me. It’s how they taste naturally.”
“Mhm, I could have figured. As a nature witch, you have a talent for gardens.”
Your grandmother chuckles mischievously and that is the moment when your grandfather stirs the conversation into a different direction.
“___ my girl, now I must ask something.”
“Yes, grandpa?”
“Why are you all dating?”
“Harald, you can’t ask that out of nowhere”, your grandmother gasps, dropping the wipe on the counter to run to him and nudge his arm.
“It’s not out of nowhere. I really thought about it before I asked”, your grandfather defends himself.
“It doesn’t make it okay”, she throws back, but you assure her that it was alright to ask.
“I understand that it’s not really common to see, questions are allowed. Right, guys? Is it okay for you as well?”
“Of course. We are very open to answer your questions”, Taehyung says.
“I don’t have a lot of experience with polyamory, but I’m okay as well”, Jungkook says.
“Me too. I’ll try my best to answer”, Yoongi says, “I was honestly just waiting for you guys to ask us. I know it must be weird to see your granddaughter return with three men by her side.”
“Not weird just…uncommon.”
“Gosh Harald, stop being so negative.”
“What? I’m just saying. It must be uncommon for you too. I’m sure they know that it’s not something you see every day.”
“Harald!”
“It’s really okay, grandma. We know it’s not seen a lot. It would be weird if you weren’t confused.”
Agatha gives up with a sigh and sits down by her chair.
“Fine, okay. I admit that I’m a little curious as well.”
“What do you want to know? I don’t want you guys to have a bad idea of polyamory so I’m really open to all questions”, you say.
“What does it mean to be poly? Is that what you call the dating you are doing?”
“Yes, that’s the official name for it.”
“It sounds really stressful to me”, your grandfather says.
“It can be stressful if you don’t communicate and understand each other. If you talk and respect each other, it’s not stressful at all.”
“But how can you spend enough time with every person?”
“It’s easy for us because we live in the same estate, so sometimes we spend time by being in the same room.”
“I would also say that it really helps to make a schedule”, Taehyung says.
“A schedule?”
“Indeed. We sit down and make a plan of when someone wants to spend time with another. We plan dates, schedule holidays and decide on who wants to spend time with whom.”
“So you decide on special date days just for this one pairing? Are you even couples? How does it work?”
“Yes, we plan special couple days so nobody feels left out. Not all of us are dating however.”
“How can I understand that?”
“I’m dating Yoongi, Tae and Kook”, you say, “while Yoongi is only dating Kook and me.”
“I am dating ___, Yoongi and Tae”, Jungkook says, “but Tae only dates ___ and me.”
“So you and you”, your grandpa points at Yoongi and Taehyung respectively, “are just friends?”
“Indeed we are.”
“I guess.”
“But how does that work?”
“We aren’t interested in each other”, Yoongi says, “but we respect each other enough not to want to break up the polycule.”
“Indeed. We spend friendship time with each other, isn’t that so?”
“I guess”, Yoongi murmurs, avoiding Taehyung’s eye contact shyly.
“This is really mindboggling to me. All of it”, your grandfather says and looks at your grandma, “do you understand it, Agatha?”
“Oh Harald, why must you be so negative? If it makes our___ happy, then I understand everything I need to understand.”
“I wasn’t judging. I am just really confused. Don’t you get jealous or insecure?”
“Sometimes”, Taehyung says, “I think that jealousy can’t even be prevented in monogamous relationships and there are definitely more opportunities to get jealous in a polycule. Sometimes a person wants attention from someone, but the person they want affection from is busy with someone else. Jealousy or insecurities are unavoidable.”
“Exactly, sometimes you also feel as if your time spent with them is shorter than that of the others and you get jealous of that”, Jungkook agrees.
“Or as if you received less love than others, which can make you feel insecure”, Yoongi says.
“But the most important thing to remember is that jealousy is human and that it is important to talk about it. When one of us gets jealous or insecure, we sit down to talk and fix the issue together”, you say.
“It really helps because almost all of the time, the insecurities are gone after the conversation”, Taehyung says.
“And we realise that the jealousy was useless”, Jungkook says.
“I see. I might start to understand a thing or two. I thought that you never get jealous and found it unbelievable. It’s good to hear that jealousy happens, but that you talk about it”, your grandpa says and reaches out to caress your hand, “my girl, you have this from your grandmother. She always wants to talk about everything.”
“Talking about the issue is important. Otherwise it will linger and become an unwanted curse on your heart.”
“That is true, my darling witch”, your grandfather says and kisses her cheek.
She leans in with a mischievous giggle.
“Now one last question. You know me, I’m too nosy.”
“Yes?”
“Does it mean that intimacy is always together?”
“Harald, you are inappropriate”, Agatha says with a slap to his arm.
“I’m just saying. You know, the seventies were a wild time. Your grandmother and I have some experiences with org-”
“Harald!”
Your grandfather lifts his hands in defeat.
Your grandmother clicks her tongue, “crazy. Please don’t listen to him, he is being childish.”
Taehyung and Jungkook chuckle knowingly and exchange a boyish look with your grandfather.
“Do not worry. I find it very important to make sexuality a normal topic and to remove the negative stigma around it. Without sex, none of us would be here right now and intimacy can be a very important part to show affection to the people you love. So I believe that it is important to see sex as something positive and normal, instead of demonising it. Of course it is very important to keep such conversations age appropriate, but I see no evil in talking about it between adults”, Taehyung says.
“I agree, yes”, your grandfather says, “I don’t even want details, just a yes or no.”
“May I answer it?” Taehyung asks to which all of you consent to with a nod. So he looks at your grandfather and talks, “sometimes we share intimacy between more than two people, but most of the time, intimacy is shared between two people.”
“What about you and Yoongi?”
“We do not sleep with each other.”
“I see. Forgive me for asking.”
“Worry not. I hope that I could answer your questions.”
“You could”, your grandfather says and looks to the side. He seems just a little embarrassed to have asked such a question.
“Now I have a question as well”, your grandma says.
“Yes?”
“Does polyamory mean that you like men and women?”
“It can, but not always. There are also strictly same sex polycules or non binary polycules.”
“What does non binary mean?”
“Well, to put it very short. It means when you don’t identify as female or male. In a sense the person can identify as both or neither. This is the very short answer.”
“I see. And in your case it means that you are all attracted to men and women?”
“Yes, in my case it does. However I identify as queer. Gender isn’t important for my attraction to form, as I am drawn to the person and not their gender identity and I feel most comfortable in identifying as queer.”
“Gender doesn’t matter to me either, so I resonate most with being bisexual”, Jungkook says.
“I don’t do labels. I like who I like”, Yoongi says.
“I don’t know what I am. Sometimes I think about kissing a girl”, you confess, “I never told this before. Please don’t tell mom and dad, they don’t know.”
“How should we tell them?” your grandmother says with a fond laugh on her lips.
“Ah yeah, I totally forgot that this isn’t the real world. Damn, it’s insane to think that we’re in a magical afterlife right now. It feels so real.”
“In an unexplainable, but wonderful way this is real.”
You smile at the thought, reaching out to hold your grandparent’s hands.
“I’m so happy that it is. I really missed you so much.”
“We missed you too, my honeybee.”
“My girl, hm, my girl.”
“How is it possible for grandpa to be here? You said that you would tell me later.”
“Ah yes, I did”, she says, shifting into a more comfortable position, “there is a ritual you can do to mark the soul of a person so it is worthy to live in this realm after death.”
“There is?”
“Yes, yes there is. Harald, get me the book”, she says and gestures to the bookcase in the living room.
Your grandfather stands up, “the purple one?”
“No, the black one with the moon on the front.”
“Okay.”
He looks for it for a moment, returning with it once he found it. He places it on the table and sits down. Your grandmother opens it in the middle. Drawings of spell materials are on the right page while the left describes the ritual in detail.
“It is a very difficult ritual and dangerous too.”
“Yeah it really is”, Yoongi agrees, “if you get the mixture wrong, the soul ends up cursed.”
“So you know the spell?”
“No, I haven’t heard of it before, but I know what citrine powder mixed with too much beryl dust does. Especially when you use it in this kind of way and with these enchantments. It can curse the soul so that after death, it dissolves into nothing.”
“You know a lot about magic, don’t you?”
“Yoongi was a student of Nilrem.”
Your grandmother widens her eyes in surprise.
“Nilrem? The creator of magic?”
“The bringer of magic, yes. He always said that he came from another universe, but he was honestly crazy so I don’t know if he just made stuff up.”
“This is actually very shocking to me. ___ told me that you had knowledge in magic, but I never connected the dots that it is because you were one of Nilrem’s students.”
“Yeah no, I was”, he says shyly, scratching the side of his neck.
“Fascinating”, she says and giggles shyly, “please forgive me, but this feels as if I am meeting a celebrity.”
Yoongi blushes and looks to the side. You give his cheek a little kiss.
“He’s so cool, isn’t he?”
“Don’t say that”, he whispers, nudging you under the table.
“Mhm, he is the coolest”, you say and smooch him a second time despite his protesting nudge.
Your grandmother watches it fondly before looking back into the book.
“I bet you already know what you have to do for the spell to work, don’t you?”
“No please, don’t feel inferior in my presence. I seriously don’t know a lot about magic”, he assures her. He is being humble for her sake. It is obvious to all of you that he is.
“Did you enchant grandpa with this spell?”
“Yes I did. I measured the ingredients multiple times and practiced the spell many times.”
“So you can practice spells?”
Your grandmother looks at Yoongi.
“Please go ahead, Agatha”, he tells her, giving her enough confidence to continue.
“Yes you can. There is a method where you can enchant a hay puppet with it and then throw it into flames. When the smoke turns black, the spell would fail but if it turns white, the spell is correct.”
“I see. This is actually so helpful. When Yoongi was in a magical coma, I got help from Meredith and her coven.”
“I know Meredith.”
“Yes, we got help from them and they tested spells by drawing blood from Jungkook and inflicting the portions with the curse. It was really fascinating and I never thought that it was possible.”
“Oh you know so much already, my honeybee”, she says with great melancholy in her eyes, “it’s correct that you can find an antidote against blood curses by testing it on small amounts of the right blood”, she says and looks at Jungkook, “that would mean that you are from Yoongi’s bloodline.”
“I am. Wow, how did you know?” Jungkook gasps.
“The vampire curse is just a little different in each Creator’s blood, which means their creations are each just a little different because the change is based on the Creator’s blood. Which means that Meredith could only successfully test out the different antidotes on your blood because you shared Yoongi’s specific curse properties. It wouldn’t have worked otherwise.”
“Wow, I didn’t know that”, Jungkook confesses, “did you?”
Yoongi shakes his head, “not so detailed. I knew that my sire line shares the same curse as me, but I didn’t know that my curse also changed their blood to be the same as mine.”
“Does that mean that they’re the same in here as well?” you ask.
“No”, she shakes her head, “in here no curses can reach. You are all how you were when you were still human”, she glances at Yoongi, “or witches.”
Yoongi looks at his hands with widened eyes, as if he just realised what it meant to be free of his curse.
“Oh.”
“Wow, this is so cool”, you are too occupied with being excited to notice, “you know so much, grandma. This world is so cool and this spell is even cooler. Does this mean that I could make sure that they find peace in this world if they ever die?”
“You could, but you have to be careful”, she furrows his brows in seriousness, “this curse isn’t to take lightly. I only started practicing it once I knew I had complete control over my powers and I only put it on your grandfather after practicing it for months.”
“I understand. I won’t do it without practice, I promise.”
“That’s what I want to hear, my honeybee”, she says and caresses your cheek, “I’m so proud of you.”
You lean into her touch, feeling so very warm in your chest.
“Thanks, grandma.”
Taehyung helps with washing the dishes after dinner, while Jungkook and Yoongi help your grandfather outside with the animals. You stay with your grandmother and Taehyung, telling her more about how you think that your boys are the coolest people ever. She listens to you happily. After cleaning up, you play cards until your grandparents get too tired and excuse themselves for the night.
Your grandparents are the first to wash up, while Jungkook and Taehyung say that they will unpack their bags a little. You are the next to wash up, now currently leaving the bathroom in your coziest pyjamas.
“Careful.”
“Oh? Oops”, you stop in your tracks after almost crashing into Yoongi.
He lowers his hand, having wanted to knock.
“Did you want to knock?”
He nods his head.
“I didn’t hear anything, so I didn’t know if it was empty already. Human hearing and shit, it’s useless”, he says, making you chuckle.
“It’s empty now”, you tell him and step out of the doorframe, “if you’re quick, you even get the warmth.”
“Yeah, thanks uhm”, he says and disappears inside.
You study the closed door for a moment, having to smile. He’s especially cute tonight. Really awkward. You love when he’s awkward, because he gets so adorable when he is.
Jungkook is in your bedroom, turning to you when you enter. He looked at your desk before that. His eyes begin sparkling, his lips curl into a smile.
“Hey there”, he says.
“Hey there”, you say.
“Wow, I love the pyjamas. Purple. The colour fits you so well.”
“Thanks, heh”, you say, posing for him in a cute way.
He appreciates it with sparkling eyes and the brightest smile ever.
“And they’re really soft.”
“I can tell”, he says and continues with a shy gleam in his eyes, “I didn’t wanna be all alone downstairs, so I waited for you. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Did you find something you like?”
“I looked at the drawings on your desk. Are they yours?”
“Yup, my childhood drawings.”
“Wow, you had talent.”
You close the distance between you and him, travelling your eyes over the drawings.
“I did, didn’t I? I mostly painted the cottage, my grandparents and the animals. This is Moo and this is supposed to be Jumper”, you say, pointing at the childish drawing of a cow and a brown rabbit.
“I can totally see the resemblance. You really nailed Jumper’s long ears.”
“I did, yeah”, you say, having to snicker.
Jungkook snickers as well, rubbing his hand up and down your back in an innocent show of affection. He ends the adoration with a little massage of your neck and a soft brush down your hair. You really love receiving it, feeling safe in his presence.
“The fabric’s really soft. You’re right”, he says, caressing your back again.
“I know, it’s so comfy.”
He leans in and sniffs you by your shoulder.
“Hm, smells good too.”
“It’s the detergent we always use.”
“It’s nice.”
He kisses your shoulder in an innocent show of affection, then straightens up to look at the drawings on the wall. More drawings of the cottage and its animals, a few drawings of flowers and other plants and some are family portraits of you and your grandparents.
“It’s kinda cute that they kept all of this even in the afterlife”, he says.
“I know, it’s so cute. Do you think that it looks different here than it did last time?”
“Yeah, totally. More alive I would say and a lot more lived in.”
“Yeah, I think so too. Did you test out the bed yet?”
He shakes his head, “I didn’t know if I could. I’m still in my clothes and all.”
“No, you totally could have”, you assure him and walk to your bed. You throw yourself onto it, bouncing on it with a big grin on your lips.
Jungkook laughs in fondness.
“Come here, the bounce is great.”
Jungkook closes the distance and sits down next to you, laughing loudly when you bounce next to him, making him shake around this way.
“Do it too.”
Jungkook does as he is told, bouncing on the mattress with silly laughter on his lips. You have to laugh as well, wiggling your toes because it’s so fun to be silly with him.
“Ah, I love it here”, you say, dropping into the sheets with your arms stretched far from you.
Jungkook rests his weight on his hand, having his torso turned to you.
“It’s really nice here, yeah”, he agrees.
“It also smells so nice”, you say, sniffling vividly.
Jungkook breathes in deeply, “yeah right. Like fresh laundry and hay.”
“Yeah, so nice.”
“My nose is so weak though. It’s a little weird not to smell a million scents all the time.”
“Gosh, this must feel like a holiday.”
“It does. I can only smell the laundry, the hay and your soap. At home I would smell your emotions and your blood and the animals outside and, and, and”, he huffs out air, “damn, I really smell a lot don’t I?”
“You really do.”
“Ah, it’s nice to take a break from it.”
Silence overcomes you where Jungkook gazes at you and you gaze at him. You end up having to smile at him. He retorts it and shifts his eyes to your stomach.
“You’ve got a little skin showing”, he says, reaching to fix the slipped up shirt.
“I know, the movement made my shirt slip up.”
“Mhm”, he hums and does the unthinkable thing of pulling the shirt further up your tummy so he could lean down and blow raspberries on it.
“No please!” you squeak, lifting your legs and grabbing his head because it tickles so much.
Jungkook does it again, forcing the loudest cackle to escape you.
“Koo stop”, you complain, trying to push his head away.
“Sorry”, he laughs and pulls the shirt down. He lies down next to you and attacks your neck next.
“This isn’t better, Kook stop it”, you complain in cackles and little squirms.
Jungkook smiles against your skin. His heart is racing like crazy in his chest.
“You’re so fucking cute”, he whispers and goes to attack you again.
“Please”, you squeal, having to laugh honestly and loudly. He is tickling you, but it doesn’t feel awful. It feels good. Safe. Tingly. You can’t stop laughing, trying to fight him off with soft tugs at his strong arm.
But Jungkook is stronger than you, pinning you down even more by lying some of his weight on your chest and attacking the other side of your neck.
He probably would have teased you to the point of tears of laughter if someone hadn’t knocked on your door. He stops instantly, lifting his head. Did you wake your grandparents?
Knock. Knock.
“Yeah?” you call out.
“It’s me”, Yoongi says.
“Come in.”
The door opens and in steps Yoongi. He is in his black pyjamas with his hair unstyled and his cheeks looking especially dewy. He closes the door, waddling to your bed. Then he stands. Stands and stares and rubs his own tummy.
“Do you need something, my love?” you ask him, sitting up in bed.
Jungkook sits up as well, looking at Yoongi with curious eyes.
“I was maybe thinking that, I don’t know, maybe uhm maybe, uhm”, he stutters, blushing shyly, “nevermind, it’s stupid”, he says and tries to flee.
You however stop him with a gentle touch to his inner wrist.
“You can talk to us”, you assure him, giving him a sweet smile, “what’s the matter, love?”
“Uhm”, Yoongi begins, “uhm, uh. Do you wanna, uhm, share a bed tonight?” he finally gets out, looking at Jungkook.
“Me?” Jungkook makes sure.
Yoongi nods his head, touching his own ear to soothe himself.
“I was thinking maybe it could be nice. I don’t know, it’s stupid. Sorry, it’s stupid.”
“No, it’s not. I love this idea”, Jungkook says and reaches out to touch Yoongi’s waist, “I would love to share a bed with you, my hyungie.”
“Okay. That’s cool”, Yoongi says dryly but with flushed cheeks.
“Is that okay with you, ___?” Jungkook makes sure.
You look between them. Jungkook is excited, while Yoongi is nervous.
“Of course that’s okay with me. You two deserve all the bed snuggles in the world”, you say and grin, “I also get to snuggle Tae, so that’s a win for me.”
Jungkook chuckles fondly while Yoongi relaxes in relief.
“That’s true, Tae snuggles are very nice”, Jungkook says and pecks your cheek, “is the bathroom empty?”
“Yeah”, Yoongi confirms.
“Coolio, I’ll wash up and I’m expecting you in the guest bed once I’m done”, he says and snickers, rolling out of bed to leave the room.
He closes the door.
Yoongi sits down on bed instantly, taking your hands. He squeezes them so tightly, one might wonder if he wanted to crumble them.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I don’t wanna make you feel as if you’re not important to me. I, I love sleeping next to you, but I, I wanna spend time with Jungkook too. Sometimes. I’m sorry, Please don’t be too mad at me.”
“Gosh Yoongi, you’re worrying for nothing”, you say in a fond chuckle and kiss his cheek. You keep close afterwards, running your fingers through his hair, “I’m not mad at you. This is part of what being poly is. Sometimes you just wanna spend time with a certain person, but that doesn’t mean the other automatically loses value. I don’t feel mad that you crave Kookie time tonight.”
Yoongi relaxes his shoulders, gazing at you.
“Thank you for understanding, you’re so…” he sighs and speaks in a softer voice, “I’m a mess and you’re calm. This is all new to me. I haven’t done poly before. I’m a mess. I practiced outside ‘cause I was scared of your reaction. You’re so calm. I feel peaceful.”
“Gosh Boongie, you cutie. I’m glad that I make you feel at peace”, you say and kiss his cheek a second time.
He leans into the affection, closing his eyes halfway.
“I also understand your feelings about doing poly for the first time. It’s my first time as well and I’m really scared to mess up, but I think that our little family can make it work.”
“Yeah me too”, he agrees, nodding his head.
“We’re doing really well, I think.”
He nods his head, shifting his eyes to your intertwined hands. He traces your knuckles with his thumbs, following the movement with sparkling eyes.
“How are you liking the stay here?” you ask him because you crave just a little more of his voice.
“Good. I think it’s good”, he says, nodding his head.
“Yeah? Me too. I really love it here. Gosh Yoongi, it was my dream to show this place to you. It makes me so happy that you can finally see it.”
“I like it, yeah”, he meets your eyes, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I didn’t talk a lot.”
“At dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s okay, my love. You were perfect. I can assure you that my grandparents love you.”
“I hope. I’m really nervous.”
“I can tell, but don’t be. You’re doing really well”, you assure him, combing your fingers through his soft hair.
“Thank you”, he whispers.
You kiss his cheek, rubbing his back afterwards.
“I spent so much of my early childhood in this room. I have really dear memories of it.”
“It’s a good room.”
“Yeah it is”, you agree and stand up to get the drawings from the table. You sit down next to him and show them to him, “I painted a lot in my free time. Mostly the cottage, the animals and my grandparents. Do you recognise the cow?”
“Is it the one outside?”
“Correct. Her name’s Moo. I named all of the animals here, which is why the names are very unoriginal.”
Yoongi smiles softly and takes the drawing with careful fingers.
“Moo is a good name for a cow.”
“I guess so, yeah”, you snicker, “the bunnies are called Jumper, Flopsi and Daisy.”
“Cute.”
“Yeah, they’re so cute. The second cow is called Milky.”
He laughs.
“Don’t laugh, I told you the names are very unoriginal.”
“It’s cute, I’m laughing ‘cause it’s cute”, he says, meeting your eyes shyly. You give him a grin, kissing his lips afterwards.
“You’re cute.”
He looks away, blushing instantly.
“You’ve been freaking cute the entire day. Do you know that, my love?”
He shakes his head, touching the side of his neck.
“Now you know.”
“Okay”, he mumbles and tries to change the topic by flipping the drawings, “do the chickens have names too?”
“Of course they do. I was obsessed with Greek mythology back then, so I named all the chickens after Greek goddesses, except for Jolene who I named after the song because my grandparents always played it and I was obsessed with it.”
Yoongi smiles. He thinks that you were very adorable as a child.
“The second brown chicken is Helen, the white ones are Aphrodite and Hera. The two black ones are Persephone and Hades.”
“Hades?”
“I was obsessed with him. I genuinely thought that he was so cool.”
“You think the weirdest dudes are cool.”
“I think you’re cool.”
“Exactly.”
“Yoongi, come on”, you nudge his arm, “you’re not weird. In some strange way you remind me of him.”
“I do? Why?”
“He really loved Persephone and dedicated a lot to her. He’s this scary dude to so many people, but secretly he is just a big softie for his wife.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I’m soft for you”, he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek.
You accept his affection with closed eyes.
“Didn’t he also kidnap her and force her to marry him and live with him? I don’t think that’s what a softie would do. He forced her and that’s definitely not me.”
You laugh, “no, that’s definitely the part we’ll ignore. You’re not like that at all.”
“Yeah, he’s a fucking asshole”, he agrees.
“God, you and your harsh tongue.”
“I mean it. He’s an asshole. I don’t think I’m like him at all. I would never force you to do anything.”
“Okay fine, I admit it. You’re not like him at all, sorry. You’re a cutie patootie”, you say and kiss his cheek.
He smiles, leaning in with a fluttering heart.
“But you are a softie. Don’t fight me on that.”
He laughs, “I can live with that.”
You snicker.
“Hyung?”
You and Yoongi look at the door where Jungkook is standing in a light blue pyjama set.
“Are you coming?” he asks Yoongi.
“Huh?”
Jungkook steps into the room, grinning cutely. He struts to the bed and takes Yoongi’s hands. It results in Yoongi gawking at him with big eyes and parted lips.
“I told you to wait for me in bed, but you’re still here. Get your butt over here”, he says, tracing his knuckles gently.
“Sorry, I’m already coming”, Yoongi murmurs and looks at you, “sleep tight, my princess.”
“Sleep tight as well, my prince. And you too my honey, sleep tight.”
“You too, my honey”, Jungkook says, stealing a loving kiss.
You smile, smiling brighter when Yoongi steals a kiss as well before he finally stands up. The two men turn to each other and soon after, leave the room.
“What are you thinking, hyungie? Do you wanna make music together?”
“Only if you want to. I don’t know, maybe, yeah. Or no. If you want to.”
“Why are you so nervous? It’s just me”, Jungkook is teasing.
“Shut up, you brat I…”
Their conversation drowns out as they close the door behind them, but seconds later, Jungkook’s bright laughter can be heard.
You sigh in fondness, grinning to yourself. You are so happy that they have each other. To think that they will spend a lovely evening with each other, doing stuff they enjoy doing together, just makes you so incredibly happy. You really hope that their night is wonderful and filled with safe intimacy.
You roll out of bed and leave your room in search of Taehyung. You can’t wait to spend time with him.
The cottage is empty. How weird. Where could he be? You look around for a bit, noticing that your grandpa left the lights on outside. You open the front door, which is surprisingly unlocked. How weird indeed. Your grandpa is normally very particular with locking the doors at night.
“Huh?”
You turn off the lights to see better. There are candles burning where the small table is. Someone is sitting by it. You squint your eyes. Taehyung. Taehyung is sitting by the table. Your heart flutters. There he is, you finally found him. Oh, you can’t wait to get to him.
You wrap a blanket around yourself and grab one for Taehyung, leaving the house afterwards in your slippers. The good thing about this magical realm is that it never gets dark enough that you feel blind. You can still walk comfortably even now that it is night. And yet somehow when you are lying in bed, trying to sleep, the night feels like the darkest night you have ever experienced. Perhaps it is the magic infused in this air, which makes the night as bright or as dark as one needs it to be.
Taehyung doesn’t hear you. In the real world, he would have lifted his head the moment you stepped out the door, but not here. He is still oblivious to you. Only when you tap his shoulder, does he finally react.
“Oh heavens”, he gasps, flinching vividly.
“Sorry, oh dear”, you get out, placing your hand on his shoulder, “it’s just me, don’t be scared.”
“Darling”, he whines, looking up at you with big eyes, “you frightened me. Do not sneak up on me like this.”
“I’m sorry”, you say and snicker, “gosh, this was hilarious. You should have seen your face.”
“Yes, yes make fun of me all you want, but the truth is that I almost died right now”, he says and touches his own chest, “my heart is racing. Feel it.”
You reach down and place your hand on his chest. He wasn’t lying. His heart is hammering against his ribcage.
“That’s true. Your pulse’s going crazy”, you say and giggle.
“Yes, because you frightened me”, he says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
“I’m sorry, really”, you chuckle, “but I have to make use of you guys’ weak senses. You guys keep startling me in the real world, so this is all just part of my revenge plan.”
He laughs.
“Oh how terribly mean of you. I will pay you back.”
“Will you now?”
“Yes. Yes, I will”, he says and hugs your waist, squishing his cheek against your stomach this way. He giggles, scrunching his nose.
He is such a cutie. You feel so incredibly soft for him. You ruffle his hair, making him look up at you this way. The candle light shows his sparkling puppy eyes. His features look so timelessly beautiful. You trace them gently, which makes him open and close his eyes at you slowly.
“Okay, okay. If you really have to”, you say with a fond smile on your lips, brushing your fingertips down the slope of his nose.
Taehyung giggles and nuzzles his nose into your stomach. A kiss comes next. He turns back to the table afterwards.
You follow his line of sight. He is drawing. Using what formidable light the candles emit to sketch your bedroom. He uses a photograph as reference, drawing it with impressive accuracy.
“Are you drawing my bedroom?” you ask him, running your hand up and down his back mindlessly. He is already a little cool to the touch.
“Indeed I am”, he says, “I want to sketch it so I can finally start on designing the murals.”
“Really? Wow Tae, I’m so excited.”
“Yes, me too. I haven’t worked on murals in years, although I truly enjoy the process of them. Working on your wing will be a lot of fun.”
“I can imagine”, you say and rub his back more vigorously, “gosh darling, aren’t you cold? You feel so cold to the touch. Here, let me.”
You place a blanket over his shoulders, smoothing it down carefully. Taehyung looks up at you with big puppy eyes, holding his breath. You end your affection with a soft brush of your fingers against the underside of his chin. He tilts his head as he chases the touch.
“Why?” he asks in a whisper.
“What do you mean?”
“Why did you put a blanket over me?”
“Because I know how chilly it can get and you don’t have superpowers keeping you warm right now.”
“I see. That is correct”, he says, lowering his eyes shyly. His pulse is racing. It flusters him terribly whenever you take care of him.
“Can I stay with you a little while?”
“Yes, of course. Of course, you can”, he says, scooting to the side to make space.
You take it instantly, looking into the notebook. Your left hand is resting on his thigh.
“Are these sketches for the flower murals?” you ask him, pointing at the opposite page.
“Indeed, they are. What do you think of them?”
“They look lovely.”
“Do you like them?”
“I really do. I’m already excited to have them on my walls. I love them.”
Taehyung giggles and rests his cheek on your shoulder, grinning brightly.
“Thank you so much. It makes me so happy to hear this”, he says and nuzzles.
You turn your head, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. Taehyung sighs and chases your kiss.
You and he share a sweet moment. He tastes like smiles and chocolate. It is a lovely combination. You break the kiss with a stub of your nose, caressing his skin with it afterwards.
“You taste like chocolate.”
“I am eating chocolate”, Taehyung says and sits up, “do you want some?” he offers.
“Thank you”, you say, breaking off a row. You bite off a good piece and let it melt on your tongue, the other piece you feed to Taehyung. He allows you with a fluctuating pulse. Truly, you make him feel so giddy.
“What do you think of it?” he asks you in a soft voice.
“It’s slightly bitter but with a sweet aftertaste. I really like it.”
“I like it as well”, he says and lowers his eyes, letting out a shy giggle. He turns his head away, “oh heavens.”
“What’s the matter?”
“When I look at you, my heart races. The feeling is so unfamiliar.”
“Can I feel it?”
Taehyung nods his head, holding his breath when you place your hand on his chest.
Badums. Badums. Badums.
His pulse is rhythmical and steady, keeping him alive here in this magical realm where no curse can reach and the world is alright. You circle your thumb in a gentle caress, lifting your eyes and meeting his shy gaze.
You smile. Taehyung retorts it.
“It’s racing.”
“It is.”
You kiss his cheek, speeding up his pulse for the duration of it. You pull back. Taehyung touches the spot you kissed, gazing at you with parted lips
“It fluttered when I did that”, you whisper.
“I know”, he breathes.
“It feels so strange, but in a good way.”
“I cannot get used to it.”
“You can’t?”
He shakes his head, “my heart stood still for centuries, but all of a sudden it beats again. I keep having to take deep breaths because I am so aware of it.”
“I can imagine. It must feel crazy to be alive again after all these years.”
“Crazy. I guess one can say it like this”, he whispers and turns away so he can draw again. Except that he doesn’t draw, twirling the pen in his fingers as his eyes race over the sketches.
You slide your hand to his side, hugging him and resting your cheek against his shoulder.
“Do you remember our first time?” you ask him.
“Our first time?”
You nod your head, “when we snuck away from acting class and hurried to my apartment. You were so touchy and I felt so giddy because you hadn’t been like this until then.”
Taehyung smiles softly, listening to you reminisce with a fluttering heart.
“I could barely unlock the door, but got nervous once inside. Do you remember?”
“I do.”
“Do you remember how we talked and shared some tea?”
“Of course I do. You told me that you didn’t have a lot of experience.”
“And you were so sweet about it”, you squeeze him gently, “do you remember the dreams we talked about?”
“You said that you wanted to make people happy.”
“And you told me that you wanted to be alive. That you wanted to be happy again.”
Taehyung lowers his eyes, tightening his jaw.
“Remember?”
“I do”, he whispers.
“Well, now you finally know how it feels to be alive”, you say and lift your head to gaze at him.
You furrow your brows.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
“Tae, what’s the matter?”
“I don’t know”, he says and turns his head away when you try to cup his cheek.
You try again, doing it with both hands. You succeed, meeting his eyes.
“What’s the matter, darling?”
“I don’t know if I’m happy”, he whispers, forcing your brows to furrow. He attempts to look away, to hide because the worry in your eyes embarrasses him.
“Taehyung my darling oh god, this is so awful. Is there a reason why you feel this way?”
“I’m sorry, I just…I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, please don’t be embarrassed. Talk to me, my darling.”
He meets your eyes again. Worry and love meet him there. Honest, deep love. The kind of love that wants to welcome and heal, to hold and cradle, to stay and grow. He remembers the last part of his wish then. That he wanted to be loved for who he truly is. He remembers it and realises that he can find this kind of love in your eyes. And as he realises it, his heart races unbearably, reminding him that he is experiencing the first part of his wish as well. He is alive and he is loved unconditionally.
Only the second part is hard to do. It wasn’t always difficult, or perhaps it was and he pretended that it wasn’t, and lately he is very aware of it, finding it hard to accept.
“Talk to me, my sweetest”, you whisper.
“It”, he begins and looks away because it is too embarrassing otherwise.
You allow him, holding his hand instead and listening to him with all your attention.
“It is difficult to be happy. I do not know what to do with myself now that I am…” he falters.
“It’s okay, take your time.”
“Namjoon is captured. He won’t ever hurt me and Jimin again. I should be happy, but I am not. I feel so lost.”
“Because we don’t have to hunt anything anymore?”
“No.”
“What then? If you want to tell me.”
“I want to tell you, but it is difficult to speak.”
“Do you want to write it down instead?”
He looks at his book. His pen. He picks it up and opens an empty page, writing down what he can’t speak. You allow him the time he needs, scratching his scalp all throughout.
Taehyung doesn’t take long. The unspeakable words aren’t much, but you know that sometimes the hardest words to speak are the shortest. I love you. I’m sorry. I need help. The words aren’t long and yet they are some of the hardest to speak for so many people. The way to the heart is short with them, which perhaps makes them so difficult to speak. Taehyung slides the book to you. You pick it up and read it.
“I feel lost and shaken, as if I am still drowning even now that I am on safe land. A scrambled mind and tortured body were my reality for decades and now I am to believe that I am free? How do I be free?”
You lift your eyes. He can barely keep up contact, but does it because he craves it.
“Oh Tae. My beloved, gentle Tae”, you get out and cradle his cheeks.
He leans into your safe touch, closing his eyes.
“I understand that the words are difficult to speak. This is a lot to feel all alone. How long have you been feeling this way?”
“Too long.”
“Gosh, come here”, you say, pulling him into a hug. You sway him gently, playing with his hair because you know that this soothes him.
Taehyung lets it happen with closed eyes and his arms tight around you. His nose is buried in the crook of your neck, his skin shares warmth with yours. The once scary words feel manageable in your arms.
“I’m so sorry that you feel this way, my darling. It must be so unfamiliar to be free after so many decades. I don’t know if you want advice from me and I honestly don’t know if I can even give you some, but I want to be there for you. That much is sure, you’re not going to figure it out alone because I’ll help you with it.”
Taehyung smiles and it is honest. He nods his head in understanding.
“Yeah, exactly. I’ll be with you. We’ll do it together. Everyone always says that healing is easy, but it’s not. Healing can be ugly and hard and scary. But we’ll do it together, okay?”
“Yes, okay”, he whispers, having to lift his head to make sure that you were truly real.
You cup his cheeks, caressing his skin. He smiles and so you smile as well.
“I’m happy right now”, he confesses in a quiet voice.
“You are?”
He nods his head.
“I doubt a lot in my life. I think the love I receive is an act of pity.”
“No-”
“Except yours. I don’t doubt your love for me. I gaze at it in wonder and awe because I find it unbelievable that you still love me after all I did, but I never doubt it.”
Your heart flutters.
“Thank you so much. You told me that your wish was to make people happy. Well, you are making me happy”, he smiles shyly, “at least happier for now.”
You laugh softly. He does too.
“You’ll be happy again, I promise”, you say and tug a strand of his dark hair behind his ear, “also thank you for saying this. I love you so, so much and it makes me happy to know that I don’t make you doubt it.”
“I love you too. I have done so ever since we snuck away from acting class and will always do so.”
“Oh my darling Taehyung”, you whisper, leaning in until you can rub your nose against his’ slowly.
“Yes, this will never change”, he whispers, matching your rhythm with his eyes closed.
“Oh my sweet, gentle Tae”, you breathe, kissing him softly afterwards.
He kisses you back, holding you in his hands as if you were the greatest treasure. And in some way you were. He feels lost and vast of happiness most of the time, but not right now. You gave him support again, an anchor to hold onto and hope to cling to. Maybe the feelings won’t last forever, but at least for a little while, Taehyung feels safe again. And that is perfectly alright for him, because sometimes just a little while is already enough to keep the soul going.
Taehyung breaks the kiss so he could hug you against his chest and feel your heartbeat this way. He cannot hear it, but that is okay for him because he can feel it match with his’ tonight. He is alive with you. He is alive and safe and loved. Taehyung presses you closer, inhaling the scent of you to make all of this realer.
“Our hearts are beating the same”, he whispers.
“I can feel it too”, you whisper.
“Wow, I really love you so much.”
You smile, “I love you too.”
“Holy fuck, I really love you.”
You laugh, “I fucking love you too, Tae.”
He laughs, “you have me cursing. That’s what you are doing to me.”
You snicker, “it’s cute.”
Wind rushes in the trees and reminds you of your own vulnerability. You and Taehyung tug the blankets tighter around your bodies, but the cold remains.
“I am very cold.”
“Yeah, me too. Maybe we should continue the cuddles inside”, you suggest, “after a warm shower and under the sheets.”
“This sounds very cozy.”
“It is cozy. Come on, we’ll get warm inside.”
“Yes, okay okay”, he says, standing up and packing his stuff so you could get inside.
Taehyung allows you to brush your teeth first because he still has to wash up for the night and will therefore take longer. So after brushing your teeth, you go to your room alone. The slit under the door of Yoongi’s and Jungkook’s room shows no light anymore. They must be asleep already. You wish then a silent good night behind the closed door and slip inside your room.
Taehyung comes inside not long after, still wrapped in a towel and nothing else.
“My bag is in the guest bedroom”, he says with a pout, “I forgot to take out my sleeping clothes.”
“Oh dear. Do you want to borrow some of my clothes?”
“Your clothes?”
“Yes, wait”, you roll out of bed to get to your bag, “luckily for you, I have another sleeping gown with me. You’ll look really fancy in it. I could also offer you some of my panties.”
He laughs, “I have to decline. My good parts are not going to stay in such little fabric.”
You snicker, “I bet it would look pretty, though. Here, I can offer you this”, you say, unravelling a long night gown, “tada.”
It is made out of lilac cotton fabric and has a rather straight cut to it. It isn't at all the prettiest nor the fanciest dress, but it is comfortable and that is all which matters.
“Oh pretty. It will do”, he says and exchanges the towel for the dress. He twists and turns in it, fixing the creases in the front, “how do I look?”
“It actually fits you perfectly, wow, you are so handsome in it. You also kind of remind me of Ebenezer Scrooge.”
“Hey”, he gasps, having to laugh, “if you were attempting to compliment me, it did not work.”
You laugh, “no, it’s cute. It fits you really well.”
“It is so comfortable. No wonder you took it with you”, he says and wiggles his hips, “oh? I feel so very free between my legs this way”, he jokes, gyrating his hips in a funny way and making you laugh with it.
“You look so handsome. Gosh, Tae you cutie you, com’ere”, you hug him, using the momentum to pull him into bed.
He falls onto you with a squeaked laugh, burying you under his weight, which makes you laugh and hug him even closer.
“Careful, ah, darling you are going to expose my bottom this way”, he giggles, trying to fight you gently.
“Com’ere you cutie, god you cutie”, you care rather little about his complaints, rolling around the sheets with his body in a tight lock.
After some rolling around and soft wrestling, you have him on his back with his face under your lips as you attack it with kisses. Taehyung lets it happen with giggles and squirms, feeling so goddamn giddy that his heart might burst in his chest.
“Mwuah”, you end your love attack with a loud sound, lifting your head so you can grin down at him. You slide your hand down his torso so you could fix the messy dress, caressing his waist afterwards.
“What?” he whispers.
“I just love looking at you.”
“Oh”, Taehyung blushes and scrunches his nose shyly, “I love looking at you too.”
“Hehe”, you let out and give him a kiss, lying down next to him afterwards.
Taehyung sits up, tugging you in under the blanket. You let it happen with a fluttering heart.
“Thankies”, you say.
“My darling should stay warm”, he says and rubs his hand up and down your covered arm, “are you warm this way?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Wonderful.”
He leans down to litter your cheek and temple with kisses. He even kisses your ear and leaves a few tender love nibbles on your neck.
“My sweetest.”
He snuggles into the pillow, holding your hand. He gives you a cute grin.
“You are right, this is very cozy.”
“Right? It’s this place. Something about this room makes everything ten times cozier.”
“I truly believe that it is because everything is placed perfectly so the energies can flow.”
“Yeah, this could actually be it. It always felt healing to be here.”
“I can imagine. I find great healing here as well and it hasn’t even been a day.”
You smile, “I’m glad that you are healing. You deserve it.”
Taehyung kisses your knuckles in gratefulness.
“Thank you”, he breathes.
“I mean it. You and Jimin, you both deserve it.”
“Thank you.”
“Mhm, I mean it”, you say and kiss his lips.
You and he stay closer afterwards, still holding hands. You gaze at each other, feeling so connected that nothing could separate your souls.
You do not know how much time passes like this, but it must have been enough to allow sleepiness to settle in your fibers.
You yawn, setting off Taehyung as well.
“Oh dear, this sleepiness came out of nowhere, wow”, you say.
“Indeed”, he agrees mid-yawn.
“Do you want to turn off the lights?”
“Yes, we could do that.”
“You have to do it, you’re closer.”
“Okay, okay”, Taehyung says and reaches for the lamp, “I started saying okay, okay because of you”, he says, switching off the light, “it is addictive, I can’t seem to want to stop.”
“It’s cute, don’t stop”, you say, “it means that we’re spending so much time together that we started picking up habits from each other. I catch myself adding rather in front of words because of you.”
“I noticed”, Taehyung says and intertwines his hand with yours, “it is like we became versions of each other.”
“Yes, definitely”, you say and close the distance between you and him to rest your forehead against his’. You kiss his nose, nuzzling your own nose against it afterwards, “I love you, Tae.”
“I love you too, my sweetest”, he says, closing his eyes.
“I hope you’ll have a good sleep tonight.”
“I will. I am with you. I will.”
You smile, burying your hand in his hair to play with it until sleep drags you down. You are with him and he is with you. Sleep is going to be good. It truly will be.
“___?”
“Yes, Tae?”
“I just…I don’t know why I called your name, I guess that I wanted to talk some more.”
You chuckle.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Whatever. I really enjoy the sound of your voice.”
“Gosh Tae, you’re so sweet. I love your voice as well.”
He relaxes in a small wiggle, running his fingers over your scalp as best as your hair texture allows him to.
“What is your favourite colour?”
“My favourite colour?”
“Yes. Do not ask why this is my first question, I didn’t know what to ask.”
You laugh softly, “it’s a good question. Mhm, I guess my favourite colour is the colour of your blush after I called you mine.”
“___”, he gasps, “why would you say such a thing? Oh, heavens.”
He makes you laugh. He is so adorable when he flusters.
“I’m serious. It’s a very pretty colour.”
“You”, he wraps his limbs around you, shaking you around gently, “I will cuddle you to silence. Stop it.”
You giggle into his chest. Taehyung lets you go after a few moments, heart racing very noticeable.
“Do you have more questions, you cutie?”
“I do not know. I am afraid that you will use them to fluster me again.”
You laugh, “I would never do such a thing.”
“Yes, you would. You became such a flirt. I remember how shy you were in the beginning, how I always managed to fluster you and now look at what you have become.”
“Hey, do not complain about the monster you created. If you hadn’t been such a smooth talker with me all the time, I never would have learned all this stuff.”
He laughs, “I cannot even argue you on this one. You have shown me the truth.”
“See? I’ve simply learned from the best.”
Taehyung hums and tries to kiss your lips but because of the blinding darkness, he ends up snogging your nose.
“Ew Tae, that was so wet”, you whine, wiping your nose on his shirt.
“Forgive me, I aimed for your lips but I…ew? Excuse me, did you just call my kiss ew?”
“I did. Loud and proud. You completely snogged my nose.”
Taehyung closes his lips around your nose again and drags his tongue over it as sloppily as possible.
“Tae”, you squeak, fleeing him, “why did you do that?”
“This is for calling my kiss ew. Now I gave you something truly ew.”
“You’re so gross, dear god”, he makes you laugh. Wiping your nose on his shirt again, you snicker and chuckle. He does the same.
You tilt your head, touching his chin to feel for his lips. Once you found them, you make your move, claiming them in a kiss. He kisses you back eagerly, ending it with a soft bite to your lower lip. You stay close, smiling goofily.
“This was wonderful.”
“It really was. Gosh Tae, I love kissing you. It’s been so long since we shared a night of kisses.”
“Indeed, far too long. Either danger kept us apart or we fought or were forced to be separated. These past few years haven’t been very kind to our bond.”
“Yeah, they really haven’t.”
Taehyung feels for your lips and kisses you. He tastes minty, his lips are soft and so nicely moisturised. His big hand cradles your face, soaking you skin in his warmth. You touch his chest because his racing pulse feels amazing to you.
The kiss breaks because Taehyung is so human here and humans need air way sooner than vampires.
“Oh heavens”, he gasps for air, “I genuinely became out of breath.”
“Now you finally know why I have to keep breaking the kiss in real life.”
“Now I truly know. Is this also how you see when we kiss in darkness?”
“Yes, it’s exactly like that.”
“Well, this is just heartbreaking. All this time, I believed that you were seeing me at least a little bit, but there is nothing. How are you even able to figure out where to kiss?”
“Practice. I’ve only known nights to be dark, so I learned how to navigate it.”
“I see. This is still very sad, you cannot even see me.”
“I know, it’s sad. But it’s also exciting because it feels like sensory deprivation without the blindfold.”
“Oh? Oh, yes it does. Oh how exciting, if I wasn’t so utterly exhausted I would have asked you to play.”
“It’s okay. I’m really exhausted too. Bringing you all here was really tiring.”
“I can imagine”, he rubs your back, “you are truly remarkable. I do not know if I told you already, but I am very proud of you.”
“Thank you, wow”, you whisper, feeling like floating. Being praised by him will never lose its spark.
“My darling witch”, he says with a kiss to your lips. One he only breaks when air is sparse and you are both just a little droopy from it.
You touch each other innocently, both having your eyes closed without managing to open them again. Sleep is so very close. The safe intimacy and love you exchanged only strengthened the tiredness.
“What do you imagine our days to look like from now on?” he asks in a sleepy whisper.
“Peaceful. Probably exhausting for me because I need to learn control, but once I did and we managed to get rid of Superior, I think our days will be peaceful.”
“I truly hope that they will be. I wished for peace for too long.”
“I promise you that they will.”
Taehyung sighs, hugging you against his chest.
“My sweetest ___”, he whispers, “I am so entirely grateful that I never lost you. There were so many chances where you could have been taken from me, so I am entirely grateful that you never were.”
“Me too, Tae. You’re very important to me.”
He sighs again, tangling his legs with yours. He yawns into your hair and smacks his lips.
“Sleepy”, he whispers, making you snicker.
“Me too.”
“Sleep tight, my darling. This time for real.”
“Sleep tight, you cutie.” Yes, sleep will be peaceful. It really will be.
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Loving Who You Are, Not What You Offer
Rating: Teen and Up
CW: Referenced Rape/Non-Con (Not Between Main Pairing), Panic Attack (Sort of)
Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Steve Harrington, Coming Out, Protective Eddie Munson, Patient Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has Sexual Trauma, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Slight Comphet Steve Harrington, Dialogue Heavy
Okay, honestly, this one comes from a more personal place. So I'm gonna have to ask y'all to be kind about this one. I've recently come to terms that I'm somewhere on the asexual spectrum and I just needed to apply that somewhere, so. Also, writing from Eddie's point of view rather than Steve's helps me, so I don't wanna hear shit about it.
Read the content warning one more time before you continue and let me know if I missed anything <3
🩵—————🩵
There was an uncovered layer to Steve Harrington, that much Eddie has deduced.
It’s a subtle, blink and you wouldn’t notice, kind of thing. But even this uncovered layer had layers. And he’s not sure if anybody else has caught on. He was able to catalog several odd things about Steve that just…didn’t match his character. Not at all. Which has led, though it started casually and accidentally, to Eddie making a whole new doctrine.
The Odd Steve Behavior Doctrine. With a few noticeable bullet points:
-Don’t touch him without asking
-Don’t ask him about his sex life
-Don’t talk about sex around him, at all
-He especially doesn’t like casual intimacy
-Earning Steve’s trust is like climbing up a rocky mountain
He follows these rules he’s made for himself. Tries to keep himself casual and known in Steve’s presence. And hopes that it’s enough to get Steve to crack, even the slightest. Maybe he’ll say why these things bother him, Eddie initially thought.
Maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut and let Steve come to me in his own time, he eventually noted. Because he doesn’t need to be in everybody’s business all the time, which is a typical thing for Eddie. He likes being nosy and involved with the lives of people around him. He likes to think of himself as the person his friends can come to, no matter the reason or the intensity of their need. And maybe part of it is selfish, too. He can admit that to himself. That he, in turn, wants to be everything Steve needs at the end of the day. Bearing the brunt of all that Steve has going wrong or right in his life.
Things come to Eddie little by little from Steve’s mouth. None that answer to any of the bullets in his doctrine, but things that are important, too. Like confessions, moments that Steve saw as flaws.
“I called Jonathan Byers a queer in 1983. That’s why he beat me up. I deserved it,” he told Eddie one day. Casually, complete nonchalance, as easy as discussing the weather. Steve had been cradling a mug of coffee at their local diner. Picked at the pancake platter he ordered all for himself. And, at Eddie’s coming out (“I’m gay, Steve,” Eddie admitted quietly mere moments before. He brought up love lives. Was poking around what was going on with Steve’s. And casually, he realizes, it just came up.), Steve took a sharp inhale. Confessed this bomb of a statement. Grimaced at the memory that must’ve played out behind his eyes. Then, murmured, “But thank you for trusting me with that, Eddie. I just need you to know that I was somebody you wouldn’t before. In case that…In case maybe you wanna take back that trust. Wouldn’t blame you, that’s all I’m saying.”
Eddie sat in that for a good several moments. As they slurped at their room temperature, rather mediocre mugs of Joe. “I still trust you,” he eventually said, “You don’t have to keep proving yourself to me, you know?” Steve merely shrugged. And that was confessional number one.
Following that, Steve mentioned being tortured by Russians. Which, Eddie thought that was reason for him not liking touch. It may be part of the reason, but there was something to Steve’s eyes that told him that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Eddie didn’t ask. Steve didn’t elaborate. Tortured by Russians, beat up by his peers, chewed up like a dog toy, the list in Eddie’s mind of All the Bad Things That Happened to Steve was growing longer and longer by the day. But Steve was telling him things, letting him in. It was a start.
So, Eddie had two catalogs all about Steve to keep up with in his mind. All the Bad Things and The Do’s and Don’ts of Steve Harrington.
Being his friend was an earned thing and it was a pleasant thing, but it also broke Eddie’s heart bit by bit. He’d never admit to this, but he had to realize that at some point. He wondered if Robin ever felt the same. Maybe even Nancy. But he wasn’t going to ask. Because who asks something like that? Eddie won’t be the first, but it won’t be the last somebody thinks that, he’s sure.
Even though Steve was breaking through his own mold, cracking his mask, shattering mirrors of who he was, none of it actually answered any of Eddie’s don’ts regarding him. None of it eased him. None of it lended itself in any sort of way. If anything, all of these other greater things only added to the incessant itch that couldn’t be scratched under Eddie’s skin.
Who are you really, Steve, Eddie asked himself all too much.
He doesn’t want to upset the poor guy.
But he’ll never know, he’s coming to realize. It’s just not in the cards.
———
It comes to a head, because of course it does. And he didn’t mean for it to, but it just happens.
They’re hanging out at Steve’s new-ish apartment. Lounging around on his, frankly, ugly floral second-hand couch. It’s musty and not all that soft on the cushions, lumpy and shifting. But they make do with it as they have a movie marathon. Steve is sprawled between the far right and middle cushion, Eddie is leaning against the left arm rest, legs crossed one over the other, head in his hand. Then, his stomach grumbles all too loudly in a room full of droning noise.
He leans into Steve’s space slightly. Reaches out a hand and places it on his thigh. Squeezes Steve’s leg and opens his mouth to ask if he’s hungry. But, for some reason, Steve tenses to the extremes underneath his touch. His hands grip harshly to the back of the couch and the throw pillow near his head. Legs going taut and straining against Eddie’s touch.
“Steve?” Eddie calls softly.
“Stop,” musters from Steve. It’s tiny. Cracking in half. Brings tears to his eyes immediately.
Eddie furrows his eyebrows, though. “What?” He asks. “What am I doing?” There’s a thrum in his chest. Something unsettling and obtuse. It pulsates and shifts and bitters his throat the way acidic bile does.
With force Eddie’s only seen in the Upside Down, Steve latches onto Eddie’s wrist. Tight enough that Eddie has to bite back a yelp of pure and unadulterated pain. Nearly enough to break the bone that Steve’s thumb digs into. He shoves Eddie away with just his grip. Scrambles to the far corner of the couch, legs tucked in close to his chest, knees colliding with his chin. He wraps his arms around himself.
And then, the softest noise breaks through between them. It’s quiet, yet somehow louder than the tape playing. It works its way under Eddie’s skin. Into his stomach, through his throat, and into his brain. Steve’s gentle, manufactured cries. Stifled behind his lips. In real time, Eddie watches him shatter. The way his eyes gloss over, his cheeks going splotchy with the sounds, his shoulders shake.
“Woah, hey,” Eddie whispers, reaching out again. He wants to ground him. Wants to comfort the way he knows how. How he soothes Wayne’s panic episodes. And how he calms Dustin down from lashing out. Or when Robin talks herself in circles. Wants to just…be there. “Hey, Steve, are you—“
“Don’t touch me,” Steve bites out, “I don’t have anything—You—I don’t want to.”
Immediately, Eddie drops his hand to the now unoccupied middle cushion. The fabric meeting his palm. Going cold. Warm where Steve had just been relaxed. And Eddie—he may be a dastardly fool most days, dumb as rock the others, three time senior—knows exactly what he did, now that he’s focused on every small movement he makes. He’s perceptive to the way Steve is leaning as far away as possible. How crumpled he makes his body. Eddie notices how much space has been created and where his hands lie.
I’m so stupid, he thinks, that’s like rule one.
Don’t touch him without asking.
“Fuck,” Eddie softly curses. He pulls himself away. To his own corner of the sofa. And swallows the bit of panic that rises in him. His eyes drift away from Steve’s fearful face, to his own hands. Twitches them in his lap, against his knees. Wants to cut them off. Throw them into a blender. Feed them to the birds. Something. But he forces himself to look back up.
Steve trembles against the couch. In a way that is not the Steve Harrington that Eddie met when fighting other worldly creatures. That dismantles everything and anything he once knew.
“Shit. I—Steve, I’m so sorry,” he quickly apologizes. “I’m sorry. I know that you don’t like that unless people ask. And I just—I wasn’t thinking, I promise. It was just—You know, I’m touchy with all my friends and I was just going to see if you wanted me to make some dinner or order some food. I was just trying to get your attention, y’know, and I didn’t mean anything by it. I promise, I swear. I swear on my mom, Steve. I would never—“ He takes a deep, gasping breath. Coughing on the inhale. His hands shake, now. And he doesn’t think he’s ever seen fear paint itself so clear and bright on a person’s face, but he’s looking into it. Steve’s pallor and yet still red cheeks. And his all consuming, though far away eyes. His built body, yet childlike hold.
A part of Eddie wants to cry, too. I’ve fucked up, he panics internally, I’ve fucked everything up and now he’s not going to be my friend and he was such a good friend, too. Why did I have to do that? I just wanted to make sure he was fed, too. That’s it. He’s such a good friend and now I’ve fucked it and I just—I—
“You wanted to make me food?” Steve quietly croaks.
Eddie, in an instant, nods. “Yes!” He exclaims in his own panic. “Yes, I swear, Steve. I wasn’t thinking when I touched your thigh. And I—What do you want to eat, Stevie? Say the word, I’ll find a way to make it or…something.”
His hands twitch in his lap once more. Thumbs catching on the ripped holes of his jeans. The threads soft and wearing away under his skin. The scratchy, dry bit of skin that peers through. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t think he breathes. Just makes eye contact with Steve. Which, surely, is overbearing and unnecessary and…I’m probably freaking him out more, calm down. He takes a deep breath, blows it away from him, and lowers his shoulders from where he didn’t know they were hiking.
“It was nothing more than to check-in. I promise,” he reiterates, murmuring.
Steve, finally, draws away from himself. With his own breath. He unravels his legs, stretching them out to their full length onto the middle cushion. Arms going limp at his sides. Hands resting against his thighs. His eyes dart—left and right and left and right—between Eddie’s. Nods once. “Okay,” he meekly musters. “Okay, Eds. Can…We can order pizza. There should be a menu on the kitchen counter. I’ll—“
Eddie stands from his own cushion before Steve gets the chance to. “Nope, don’t worry about it. Just try and relax, yeah? I’ll go put in an order, pay for it. You…Pepperoni pizza?” Steve just nods, tentative and surprised. “Cool,” Eddie states, “I’ll be right back.”
The phone call goes by quick and he easily sets the money out for when the driver gets there. But he’s not entirely sure his presence is going to be a warm welcome in the living room again. He gets a glass of water anyway because, surely, Steve will tell him to go if he isn’t wanted.
Steve’s in the same position as when Eddie left. Though, his gaze isn’t entirely there. Somewhere beyond Eddie’s shoulder. But there’s a gleam, a little shine that tells him that Steve isn’t gone from himself, not yet at least. He sits back down in his own cushion. Glass on the coffee table. And turns, keeping himself tight to his own body.
“Hey, Steve?” He calls out, watching as Steve blinks sluggishly back into his body. “I—uh—I got you some water, if you want it. Drinking water usually helps me feel better after…After a down moment, y’know?”
Next to him, Steve hums. He sighs. “Can I trust you with something?” He asks, forgoing the water entirely.
Eddie nods in haste. “Of course, Steve. If you have something you have to tell me, I can keep things to myself,” he states. Which is one hundred percent true. He may be a loud guy, screaming and yelling when need be. May be somebody that fills a room with noise, if only so he doesn’t succumb to the silence. But he knows how to keep a secret. It’s sort of a survival tactic, is what he’d say if somebody asked him about it. He’s kept secrets about his parents, things behind lock and key in his ribcage. Granted, he may forget, but he won’t say a damn thing. And he surely won’t spill Steve’s beans, especially with the way he looks to him in open earnest.
“Okay,” Steve responds. His legs fall away from the couch and he rights himself into being completely upright. Ramrod straight. On the far right cushion. Mirroring Eddie’s tight pose. Feet flat to the floor. His eyes trace something on the coffee table, cracks probably, but Eddie can’t exactly tell. “Okay. I…You’re going to be the second person I’ve ever told this to, alright? And I—I figured that it would come out sooner or later, but you’re gonna need an explanation for whatever the fuck just happened. And I don’t know how else to talk about it without just going all-in. So…I just need you to listen. Can you do that?”
“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “you have the floor, Stevie. My mouth is shut.”
Steve nods slow, a ghost of a smile on his face. Breathes in through his nose, it traps in his chest and comes out as one gentle gust. He swallows heavily, words seemingly rising in his throat. And that smile falls away just as it sprung.
“In middle school, before I was popular and whatever, I had a group of friends that I ran with. We were all nerds, I won’t deny that. And—And I would involve myself with some of their interests, if only because I wanted to fit in,” Steve explains first. His eyes roam again. Not picking a spot, but Eddie won’t fault him for it. He continues, voice fracturing, “One of the guys I was closer to, we’ll call him R, he was interested in this club. It was kind of like a tech club? Focused on radios and channels and math and…Things that I was actually kind of good with, but needed a better understanding on. So, I figured, I’d sign up for this club. Go with my…friend.”
Before he goes on to say more, he leans over for the glass of water on the table. Holds it gently between his hands. Doesn’t take any sips. The condensation droplets roll down his fingers. Cold most likely keeping him grounded to the room.
Eddie can already tell he’s not going to like wherever this part of Steve’s past leads him. How Steve has to take breaks, it upsets Eddie greatly. He’s not sure he’s entirely prepared for whatever confession comes from Steve this time, but he’ll digest it. Get through this with the guy and figure out all he needs to.
Another steadying breath. And Steve’s voice is like gravel, but he keeps talking.
“It was a weekly thing. And we’d go in. Be taught about gadgets and whats-its and whatnot. R was there, though. He was always there. We’d talk, laugh, shoot the shit. Normal friend bullshit.
“One day, though. One day, something was…different. He looked at me. There was a sense of hunger. Want. A drive to him that I’d never seen before. He’d lean more into my space, drop his voice lower, whisper right into my ear.” Steve blinks in rapid succession. His breath keeps stuttering. And something in Eddie’s stomach sours. He goes, though. Pushing through. “I told him to stop. To knock it off. Kept telling him that I was trying to learn. That I wanted to focus. And he just…He wouldn’t,” he explains.
Eddie spikes with great unease and anger. Never at Steve. But whoever this so called ‘friend’ is, Eddie wants to maybe kill him. He keeps quiet, though. Steve wanted to share and he needs this out. And Eddie can listen. He can, even if it makes him want to cry, too.
“I thought that’s all it would be,” Steve speaks quietly, “Just him talking to me in this new tone. With this new level to his voice. But…I’m kind of stupid, I guess, so of course that’s not all he’d do. The next week at our club meeting, he got closer than before. He began to…” Steve stops and swallows. A single, silent tear crawls down his face. It doesn’t even phase him, the way crying usually does. It’s just background at this point. “…He began to—to touch me in ways I’d never been. And I—I told him to stop, I remember doing that. I remember putting distance between us. And saying no and saying stop and shoving his hands off me. But he just—“ A broken little sob. “—He was supposed to be my friend,” he states, small as a child.
The sobs rack Steve in such a way that his whole body is jolting with it. Nearly toppling off the couch. He chugs the water between cries, but doesn’t move from his spot. Tight and closed off within his own body.
“I wanted him to just be my friend,” Steve continues a moment later, nasally and choked. “But he didn’t want that. He kept overpowering every single decision I made. His breath on my earlobe. And his hands on my thigh, on my…He fucking touched my crotch. Tried to coerce me into having sex,” he spits. “That guy…He made me feel fucking disgusting. About my own body. About things I loved. About sex,” Steve growls, “Made me sort of dislike all those things, too.”
Eddie, for how loud he can be, is completely silent for once. Unable to form words. Not sure how to comfort. And if he could comfort, isn’t sure if that’s something he can do the way he wants to. He can’t touch. Can’t do what he’d normally do. And his body aches to take care of Steve or to simply hold him. To be…well, to be a friend. But that’s not something Steve can exactly trust.
He feels sick to his stomach.
The last bit of water is sipped at slowly, as Steve comes down. Then, he turns to face Eddie. Making direct and purposeful eye contact. “It’s not your fault, that I reacted like I did,” he states lowly. “And it’s not your fault that I close up when you want to talk about sex. Or you wanna talk about all that intimate shit. It’s something with me. Like something’s broken. It’s like a deep crack in me, Eddie.
“And I just wanted to clear up all that. Explain what I can, I guess.” He snakes out a tentative hand. It’s shaking and hesitant, but it still lands softly on the back of Eddie’s right. Squeezes. “But thank you for taking notice. And being concerned. And for apologizing. I feel safe with you, Eddie. I trust you a lot. Which is like—That’s probably highest honors you could earn with me.” And he chuckles slightly. It’s not a humorous thing, but it’s not exactly humorless either.
Eddie lets himself soak in this, though. Smiling warmly back at Steve. Because he needs it. They both need it. He murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me with that, Steve. That wasn’t easy and I’m proud of you for speaking up about it. I’m glad to be somebody you can trust.”
With another exhale, Steve relaxes back into the couch. His hand doesn’t move from Eddie’s. “I also want to say that you’re allowed to talk about your relationships with dudes,” he states quietly. “Seriously, I don’t mind. But just…Just check in with me? Before you do?”
“Of course,” he agrees instantly. “I’ll keep that in my noggin, promise, Stevie.”
Ghost of a smile on Steve’s face again. “Thanks,” he whispers.
A lull floats in the conversation. Steve removes his hand, watching as his fingers twitch, and there’s a little uptick to the corners of his mouth. Something pleased and almost…reverent at the way he looks at his hand.
Before Eddie can get up to change out the movie, he heaves a little sigh. And says, “Y’know, if you ever need any sort of physical comfort, need to talk about this, or you just need somebody to tell you that you’re okay, you can lean on me. Don’t even need to ask, really. I’m all arms.”
“I’ll think about it, Eds. This has been enough for me."
———
Steve comes out to him at the same diner Eddie did only a few years later.
It’s 1990, Eddie’s twenty-four and Steve’s freshly twenty-three. He has a certain spark to him. A sparkle to his smile and a pep in his step. And Eddie’s happy to see him happy.
Happy to eventually call their relationship romantic. Happy to share spots on the couch, curled around each other. Happy to kiss him slow and sweet or not at all, just able to gaze over coffee mugs and across the room and when Steve thinks he can’t be seen.
Eddie’s just happy to be allowed this love that fills his chest and in the colder, vacant spots of their lives.
But he realizes he still hasn’t heard everything about Steve. He gives it time, though. Because the second most important thing to Steve—first just being there for him—is patience.
The next of their chats happens when things get heated on the couch.
Soft kisses turn hungry, carnivorous. Hands wander over heated skin. Steve’s fingers against the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. But his hands shake. And Eddie places his own hands off to the sides of the couch, pulling himself away before things can get any farther than they already are.
“Hey,” he softly speaks, “Steve, we don’t—I’m okay with just kissing right now. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
Steve stops next to him. Tensing up only slightly. “Are you—You’re sure about that?” His voice is so tiny, so unlike him. And though Eddie’s heard this tone before, it still breaks him.
He says easily, “I don’t want you to be scared of our first time, baby. It’s okay if we need to take things slow.”
He watches as Steve heavily swallows. “And if I asked if we never had sex?”
Eddie eyes him for a moment. Not wearily. With something like subtle pride. “Is that what you want?” He asks in turn. “Would that make you more comfortable?”
Subtly, Steve nods. “I—“ He sighs sadly. “I’ve been thinking about how to talk to you about it. With girls, I never even liked it. I just did it because it…There was something to say about a guy who could have sex with anybody he wants. But I also…I don’t know.” He shrugs as if trying to dismiss it, but Eddie doesn’t like that.
He sets a hesitant, soft hand on Steve’s shoulder. Squeezes when he doesn’t move away. “If you never want to have sex again, I’d be okay with that. I’d be more than okay with that,” he states assuringly. “You being happy and comfortable is what matters most to me. Not sex. I don’t give a shit about sex, not when I get to see you every day, smile on your face, and your eyes shiny and beautiful.”
Steve gives another small sigh, but the smile he has doesn’t waver. “Okay. I—Eddie, I don’t think I want to have sex,” he admits quietly. It shakes from his throat, but it’s still confident the way it lands between them. “It just doesn’t feel good to me. And I—I don’t want to force myself to do it. And it wouldn’t be fair to you, either.”
Another affirmative squeeze to Steve’s shoulder. “Alright, baby. Then we don’t have sex,” he agrees softly. “And if you ever change your mind—not that I’m forcing you to—then I’m okay with what you want.” He scoots himself closer so that their bodies are one single line, warm against each other. Reiterating, “Your happiness and comfort matter the most to me.”
With both of his hands, Steve wraps Eddie’s free one. Traces the veins on the back of his hand. Toys with his fingers. “We can still kiss, though,” he states quietly. “Maybe I want a kiss.”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Mhm,” Steve hums. So, he closes the gap. A wet peck to Eddie’s lips. Soft and venturing. One that last only a few seconds. He draws back with the softest smile adorned on his features. Murmurs, “Thank you for hearing me out on this. And for understanding. And for accepting this.”
“I love you, Steve. Just for you. Not the sex or touch. We could never do anything except sit next to each other and talk, and I’d still love you,” Eddie swears.
Steve sniffs something wet. Shoves himself a little closer, cuddling into Eddie’s chest. To which Eddie wraps his arms around his back in response. And he sighs, but it’s a sound of long awaited relief. “I love you, too, Eddie. God, I love you.”
The conversations are tough and they are stomach turning, but after it all, Eddie gets to have Steve. How he is. How he wants to be. And that’s all Eddie could hope for.
He kisses the top of Steve’s head and relaxes back into the couch. “I’m proud of you, Steve,” he murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me.”
“Thank you for being patient. Being here.”
Eddie squeezes them together even tighter. Warm in his chest at the content noise that draws itself from Steve. This could be all that they do forever and Eddie would never ask for more.
🩵—————🩵
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