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#THE SOFT JINGLE BELLS THE GUITAR IS SO WARM
catzgam3rz · 5 months
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Love the new Oh Hellos song totally didn’t make me cry it’s great
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milkiane · 2 years
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I’M HOME, SWEETHEART. eddie munson.
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summary: they say home is where the heart is but eddie’s home and heart is you.
warnings: just fluff and love! lovesick eddie! profanities and very slight suggestiveness. gif credits to @his-name-is-ed.
word count: 2.2k
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“i’m home, sweetheart!”
never once did eddie go home without making his arrival known, not when he finally has someone to go home to. it’s a gesture of simplicity, yet it carries a deep feeling of intimacy and saccharine for him.
you two went through hell and back trying to save up for your own place, your home — for your life together — but it was all worth it in the end because now you have a dainty apartment in michigan, stable jobs, and food on the table. it’s far from hawkins and its dark secrets but not far enough for dustin and the gang not to visit.
he groans softly as he locks the door, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension, eyes momentarily closing. he lets the strap of his guitar bag slide down from his arm, alleviating the digging into his skin. and then —
CRASH! — eddie stumbles over an ottoman that he swore was never there before. he stands up straight and scans the room. it was redecorated. he sighs, shuffling around the new arrangement of the apartment.
“eddie?” 
eddie turns around to find you in a shirt twice your size, you were rubbing the sleep out of your eyes — and then with the pitter-patter of feet and the jingling of a bell, your dog runs towards him, greeting him with a pushing weight on his legs.
“sorry, did i wake you?” eddie frowns, rubbing the spot behind willow’s ears as he gestures to the living room. “didn’t know our interior designer came to visit.”
you smile sheepishly, squishing your face against his chest as you hug him. he pulls you closer, planting a kiss on the crown of your head. your words come out muffled, “i missed you today, had to get my mind off things for a while.”
“s’okay, sweetheart. i missed you, too, so much,” he mumbles, slowly swaying you in place. “but next time, tell me, yeah? nearly kissed the ground before i could even kiss your pretty lips.”
you laugh softly, pulling away from his embrace to give him a kiss, a quick one that issues a whine of protest from your boyfriend. “take a shower and then we can kiss all you want. you smell like mike’s socks.”
eddie grumbles, tugging your arm to give you another kiss; seconds longer and sweeter until he has to pull away to breathe. eddie wishes he didn’t have to so he kisses you again. “go back to bed, baby, i’ll be with you before you know it.”
and true to his word, eddie walks into your shared bedroom, fresh out of the shower. you look up at him from the solace of the warm duvet. your head is the only thing peeking out. it’s cute.
“aren’t you looking very comfortable?” he grins as you make grabby hands at him. he flops down the bed with a bounce, wrapping you in his arms.
“much better,” you sigh in contentment.
he tilts up your chin to give you a kiss, ever so soft and slow; no one’s in a rush, it’s all at the moment, one of which eddie wishes to live in forever. there’s a hint of morose gnawing at his chest — the thought of how he could just spend every waking and sleeping hour with you in his arms.
he thinks of how the world can be cruel by depriving him of the time to spend more with you. instead, he gets stuck day after day in a stinking bar with drunkards who do not appreciate the art of metal — aside from the owner, mrs. duran, who loves their setlist. bless her heart.
he does believe in the saying ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’. it does, it really does. he finds himself missing you, thinking of you, yearning for you. 
but then he thinks of your beautiful smile — and maybe another thing — and it’s enough motivation for him to get through his day and get home to you.
being lovesick is an incurable disease, he thinks, vastly lethal when it’s with the right person. there is no cure, but even if there is, eddie will not as much blink an eye for it. he’s been with you for three years and counting, and his love for you has never faltered — like poison, it grew, it spread, it flourished — but it isn’t as ruthless as death, no. it gives him life, it gives him love. 
it’s everything every person can ever dream of; finding the love that makes everything make sense as if it has all along. 
and eddie, who up until this moment marvels over his felicity, has just so happened to find both friendship and love in you. he’s the happiest he’s ever been, starting from the moment he met you, it never wavered.
he drapes the blanket over the two of you and turns the lamp off, enveloping you in darkness.
“i love you, eddie.”
“i love you, sweetheart.” not i love you, too — i love you. because he did not need you to say it for him to support the idea that he loves you. it’s not a too, it’s not an also, it’s not an as well; it’s i love you. 
it’s a declaration that is instilled within the abyss of our hearts. therefore it should be veritable as it is brought out only by the intensity of our affection — felt to such a visceral degree. it’s the coup de grace of every profession of love ever made. 
“more than your guitar?” you tease sleepily.
eddie scoffs, “let’s not go that far, babe.”
you chuckle, placing your head above his chest to listen to his heartbeat. thump… thump… thump…
“i’m kidding, baby. i love you…” he repeats, this time softer as he slowly succumbs to sleep and the dreams of you.
sunlight trickles through the window pane of the bedroom, sheathing a warm kiss on eddie’s skin. he groans softly, mindlessly patting around for you only to find your side of the bed cold and empty.
he yawns, rising from the bed with a stretch to wake his sleeping limbs. he shuffles out of the room, picking up the discarded socks on the floor. he makes a detour around the room, shooting the deserted clothes in the hamper.
eddie doesn’t mind it, really. no matter how many times you forget to pick up your socks or put your shoes in the rack, he wouldn’t have it any other way. 
he wouldn’t have a place to call home if it didn’t have even a trace of you in it. the place will simply be called a house or an apartment, but not a home. it would be undeserving of that title if it doesn’t have your clothes lying around, or you spontaneously rearranging the furniture, baking cookies, dancing in the kitchen, or sleeping with him in his bed. 
it shows signs of living, of laughter, of loving. with pictures gracing the mantelpiece, a sweater of yours thrown over the couch, and your diverse album records that are mixed with his — it paints the perfect home for him.
he finds you on the balcony, a mug of coffee in hand.
you feel him before you see him, arms making their way around your waist. eddie presses soft kisses on your neck, trailing from your cheeks and up to your forehead. he puts your coffee cup on the table, turning you around to kiss you on the lips.
“good morning, gorgeous,” he whispers, smiling at the feeling of you against him. his cold hands slip under your shirt and you jump at the temperature, pulling away from him.
“cold!” you chastise him, placing his hands over your shirt instead.
“but that’s why i need you to heat ‘em up for me,” he whines, trying to sneak them back under again, lightly brushing them higher… and higher… until…
“eddie!” you smack his hands away, laughing at his poor attempts. you look down at your sock-clad feet and his bunny slippers-clad ones. it didn’t fit even half of it, his heels were poking out. “...are those my slippers?”
he models them. “you like ‘em? they’re new.”
“yeah, it looks better on you.” you tease, grabbing your coffee cup from the table and his hand with the other, dragging him back inside. “c’mon, let’s make some breakfast.”
“what do you mean?” he asks in faux confusion, pulling you in the direction of the bedroom. “i’m right here, woman! here’s your breakfast — bon appétit, ma chérie.”
“you’re insufferable!” you laugh, pushing him away.
“you’re telling me you don’t want a piece of this?” he gestures to himself and when you shake your head ‘no’, he dramatically falls back onto the couch, clutching his chest as if he was shot. “how shall i live knowing thou love of my life no longer desires me and my di-?” 
“woah!” you interrupted with an incredulous laugh, pulling him up on his feet. “that’s enough, romeo,”
“-displays of affection.” eddie finishes with a pointed look. he teasingly squints his eyes at you and he clicks his tongue. “what were you thinking, you perv?”
you playfully roll your eyes at him, making your way towards the kitchen. “we need some eggs, by the way. can you drop by the store to get some?”
“if i get a kiss, i would.”
“i’ll give you two.”
“deal,” he grins, immediately sauntering towards you. he tugs you by your waist and gives you a sweet kiss and two and three, and then more.
you pull away, patting his cheek. “i said two.”
“you gave me more anyway,” he quips, giving your butt a quick smack. “be back in a second, sweetcheeks.”
“i’m home, sweetheart!”
eddie groans at the smell of bacon, immediately making a sharp left to the kitchen. he places the box of eggs on the counter and stands behind you, chin resting on your shoulder. “smells amazing.”
you smile, looking away from the pan for a moment to start preparing the eggs when —
“OW!” eddie yelped, pulling away from the bacon he was trying to steal. he blows at the burn prickling his fingers, hissing at the sting.
“idiot! why would you get it from the pan? it’s hot!” you scold him, a laugh escaping your lips as you turn the stove off.
“i know that now.” he glares at you before his face contorts into a puppy dog look. he pouts at you, burned hand extending towards you. “i need you to kiss it better.”
you scoff in mock disbelief, turning your back to him as you fix up the eggs, stove back on.
“y/n,” he drags out, like a child having a temper tantrum. “you’re being mean. what if i die, huh? what if the burn spreads through my body and i get a heat stroke? it will be too late! — you have to tell dustin i love him but he will never have my d&d set.”
“you fucking drama queen.” you poke his side, grabbing his hand and giving it soft kisses. “s’that good now?”
“i think it needs more, doc,” eddie sighs dramatically and puckers his lips. “here, too, or else i’ll die of lack of air!”
“lack of air?” you laugh in disbelief. “how is that-”
“because you! you are the air that i breathe…” he pretends as if it was his last breath before he theatrically falls to the ground, eyes closed and tongue poking out as though proclaimed dead.
you snort in amusement, softly kicking at his side. “c’mon, munson, stand up and i’ll give you a proper kiss.”
and just like that, he’s standing straighter than he ever was before. you lean on the tips of your toes, holding his face in your hands as you smother him with kisses. i love you i love you i love you — you whisper in every butterfly kiss. i love you i love you i love you — you continue to say it.
eddie smiles at your affection. he used to believe he was undeserving of love — your love to be exact; your soft and loving love. it was beautiful. it was like no other. he believes he’s living in a fairytale except there were no adventures, no strife — it was just straight to happily ever after. 
your smile parallels his; soft and lovelorn. you pull him closer, kiss him on the lips, and it's just as magical as every other one you had before — its spark never losing its touch. it still makes your hearts flutter, cheeks warm, minds fuzzy.
i love you i love you i love you — eddie whispers in between kisses. and fucking shit, was it true. he would give up everything if it meant stopping time just to be in the moment with you. be it that moment, the night before, or the day after this — he doesn’t care which moment it will be because every moment with you is a moment he will cherish for eternity.
with you, he is home and you will forever be his as he is yours. he is home. your home.
he’s home, sweetheart.
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“do you smell burning?”
“fUCK THE EGGS- !”
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© milkiane 2022. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO MODIFY OR REPOST MY WORKS ON ANY OTHER PLATFORMS.
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hearta54 · 4 months
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Cherry Red Guitar
(Dominic Fike x Reader)
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Summary: You're looking for a cherry red electric guitar but walk out the shop with much more than you expected. Singing lead for Lameboyz means getting to know the guitarist...
Word Count: 1 295
Notes: I loved writing this, and want to write more Dom stuff. DON'T BE SHY SEND REQUESTS. ENJOY!
It was one of those Spring days when there was warm, sprightly sunlight - but not too warm so you felt suffocated in your crocheted green sweater - there was also a subtle breeze which bit the air. You loved the way your dark-washed, flared jeans bunched around your beaten converses (Converses look a little better when they've been through it) as you perused the street for the guitar shop. Your eyes scanned across a shop's peeling sign; there was a middle-aged man outside smoking a billowing cigarette and leaning against the creviced brick wall. This would be good.
A bell rang when you crossed the threshold, your eyes flickered to the teeming shelves; you focused on finding a cherry red electric guitar, like the one on your Pinterest board. Feeling a presence behind you, you turned around, slightly vexed at being disturbed. All frustration dissipated when you saw soft brown eyes, grown out brunette curls dyed blonde, and a nose which curved like the crescent moon; his name tag said Dom.
"What you looking for?"
He smiled checking you innocently making your stomach giddy with butterflies. The consistency of his was voice was smooth with a raspy undercurrent; the faded wooden floors underfoot felt like they shifted. Ugh this boy.
"I'm looking for a cherry red electric," you said this coolly trying to not give yourself away.
"Specific huh," he chuckled biting his lip. The flirtatious tension was smothering in the best way possible.
"You sing? Cos my band Lameboyz is looking for a lead."
"Yeah, I do actually."
"Sweet, text me and I'll send you the details so you can come jam," suddenly he took your arm and slid your sweater up revealing your forearm (each inch burned, electrified) Dom wrote his number on your forearm, the lid was trapped between his iridescent teeth. You gazed at him just as he met your eyes. The bell jingled breaking the static.
Dom turned to walk away looking behind his shoulder he said,
"Cya ..."
"Y/n."
"Cya, Y/N."
...
You walk up to a garage and can hear a guitar riffing; whoever the guitarist is, is really talented. Slung comfortably against your back is the cherry red electric Fender Dom found for you yesterday.
Uncertainly you call into the garage; one of the band members opens the door, a boy with long dirty-blonde hair. Dom is perched crouched behind the amp holding a black electric guitar.
"Wow, that was you playing?"
"Why so surprised, girl?"
His response steals your quick wit, avoidantly ducking your head you take out the lyrics Dom texted you.
"Are we all good to start."
The band jams congruently, it feels invigorating to hear the music come to life: The melodies come easily and your shocked by the smoothness and tone of Dom's voice. He's so rock star.
"That was a solid session guys, I'm feeling good about the show next week, this is y/n our new lead singer."
The show. Lameboyz was performing at a small festival next weekend.
You get to know the band members while exchanging gushing compliments about everyone's performances. In your peripheral you spot Dom watching you intently drinking from a cup; rolling your eyes nervously you turn back to your conversation.
When the band members slowly begin to trickle home the sky is dark and starlit... eventually it's just you and Dom left.
Intrigued by a crate of records you thumb through them: The Beatles, Radiohead, Frank Ocean, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Drake's Take Care.
A warm breath hovers over your ear, "you sounded good, y/n."
"Thank y-," a sudden pull of your waist turns you so your facing Dom with your back against the records.
"No need to thank me, I was just saying," he whispers.
Dom is distracted by the dark sky
"You should let me drive you home, it's dark out."
His car is slightly worn and old, but charming nevertheless, the convertible roof is cool.
The ride passes with a quiet Frank Ocean CD playing and mellow conversation speckled with intervals of subtle flirting. ...
As your about to place your phone on your bedside table it buzzes
"Good night, gorgeous."
"Good night, jit," you text back.
That night sleep doesn't come easily; Dom is in every corner of your mind.
The day of Lameboyz set creeps closer and each day you and Dom text more. He hasn't said anything or asked you out; each time hope threatens to rise you push it back down insistently. If I don't hope I can't get hurt... right?
...
The morning of the set reading a text from Dom forces a spectacular smile to stretch across your face.
"Can't wait to see you soon."
Slinging your guitar case over your shoulder you check yourself in the mirror one more time; smoothing your army green cargo skirt and fixing your vintage flared white tank. Realising how hard your smiling you force yourself to stop, I don't want to crease my concealer.
...
Leaning on the bonnet of his car and practicing his guitar licks you see him from afar. A warm heaviness in your stomach scares you,
Seeing you approach, Dom stands up, "hey y/n."
"Hey Dom," your name on his lips only deepens the feelings.
As Dom goes to say something the rest of the band pulls up; with a sigh you both join them. You pretend to ignore the surreptitious, knowing glances between the keyboardist and drummer.
...
You've missed performing and the roaring crowd reminds you why you love to sing. When Dom harmonises with you, you transcend and you are the music.
...
Gathered in Dom's hotel room the band is drinking; you're clinging on to your sobriety but the others are quickly becoming inebriated. They're hilarious, you don't really know someone until you've seen them drunk. Dom hasn't touched a drink, tonight he's seeking clarity... like he's going to make a revelation. When the laughter becomes hushed by lolling heads Dom and you help everyone to their rooms. On the way back Dom and you are hysterical from the drunken antics. You relish the candor of Dom's shining eyes and the easiness of his laughter.
Sitting on the floor of his hotel room you reminisce the performance and the melody of your voices together. Suddenly you have the nerve...
"Do you think you could teach me that guitar lick?"
Dom's face animates, excited to show you.
Cocooning behind you he guides you your fingers along the fret board when they get tangled. Keeping a steady, inconspicuous heart rate is trying.
"Your good at this," he breathes into your ear, the tension breaks your composure.
Dom places the guitar on the side and looks at you with darkened eyes; you hold your breath.
"I meant to say earlier, but I'm so glad we met and I was wondering if I could take you out for this picnic in the hills... there's a field of flowers and..." Dom trails off when he realises your staring at his lips.
Craning his head to reach yours, your lips connect; pushing your bodies closer there's no more space for anything else but right now. Running his hand through your braids Dom's other hand grasps your waist roughly, you've both been wanting for this a long time.
When you both run out of air and detach reluctantly; Dom bites his lips looking at the floor.
"I've been waiting for this."
"Me too."
...
Dom walks you to your hotel room and stays until you fall into a slumber.
You dream of wanting a cherry red guitar and leaving the store with it and a perfect boy's number scrawled on your forearm. It's a dream, but that's exactly how it happened. Thank God for cherry red guitars.
...
THE END
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starksvinyls · 1 year
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Title: Kitten Around Rating: Teen+ Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Tags/Warnings: Pet Play, Kitten Play, Daddy Kink Summary: Kitten loves spending time with Daddy. Notes: for @ageplay-may and the Spice prompt for day 12: "pet play" AO3 Link
Peter loved days like this. The penthouse was quiet, he was relaxed and his mind was floaty. Soft music, something acoustic-guitar-heavy and slow, was floating through the air, just loud enough to break up the silence, but not break the spell over the space. 
He stretched, his legs extending and his toes spreading, before curling back up against Daddy. Peter had his head pillowed on Daddy’s strong thigh, the soft material of his sweatpants felt nice against his cheek as he nuzzled. Daddy chuckled, his hand coming down to run through Peter’s hair, careful of the nanite ears that sat atop his head. Peter glanced up, but Daddy was still reading something on his StarkPad, but that was okay, Peter was kind of tired anyway. Maybe just a quick nap. 
“Pete? Kitten, c’mon.” Daddy’s soft deep voice pulled Peter from his slumber. “Wake up for me, there’s a good boy.” 
Peter stretched again, toes spreading as he made a small whine as his muscles tensed. He looked up at Daddy once he was relaxed, a small smile on his lips. 
“It’s dinner time, kitten, are you hungry?” Daddy stroked his cheek softly and Peter hummed contently. He loved moments like this. Moments where he got to just be warm and happy and close to Tony, to his Daddy. 
Peter nodded his head, and moved to sit up, the small bell on his collar jingling with the movement. “Can we have sushi, Daddy?” 
Daddy laughed, smiling. “Of course, kitten. Fri?” He turned his attention to the AI. “Order us our usual, and add in a couple extra orders of salmon roll for my little kitten.” 
Peter beamed, happy that his Daddy knew his taste so well. He loved salmon rolls! 
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Text
(Ten pages of Ella and Rory and pure chaos. Lots of sex talk beneath the cut)
“Rory?”
It’s been a hell of a day. She was supposed to meet Logan in the city, and then his flight was delayed and she found out too late, and by the time she did find out, she was already in Manhattan, and it’s snowing like hell, and now she’s on the Upper West Side, where she was supposed to meet him, and there isn’t a lot open, and she could make her way back to the train station, but it’s just...
Hopeless.
And now there’s Ella Bruce, walking up to her in a warm-looking charcoal gray coat and fingerless gloves, a soft guitar case strapped to her back, her blonde, wavy locks being tossed by the snow and the wind, and Rory feels...
Inadequate. 
And Rory isn’t any slouch. She’s pretty. Her hair is longer again, styled in curls, and she’s wearing her own stylish green coat and expensive boots. She’s going to be a Yale graduate soon, for god’s sake. Being faced with the shorter girl shouldn’t make her feel this way.
But there’s something so unafraid about Ella that Rory has never understood.
“Ella. Wow. Fancy meeting you here.” 
“I live up here,” Ella explains. “I uh...used the money from the last album to buy Grandma Midge’s old apartment. Come up and get warm.”
Rory hesitates. She knows she doesn’t have anything else to do, but it feels strange. Sure, they’ve always been friendly, but Ella is Jess’s girlfriend, and that just makes it so much weirder.
But it’s really cold, and there haven’t been any cabs.
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Rory asks. 
“Not at all, I’ve got good coffee,” Ella offers, nodding towards the building behind them. “Come on.”
And she does, following her into the building with its doorman and turn of the mid-century architecture.
“This place is great,” Rory comments as they step into the elevator. “Midge used to live here? With Lenny?”
“Oh, no way,” Ella laughs. “The Upper West Side was not hip enough for Pop-Pop. Too ritzy. Not enough drug dealers.”
“Right.”
Ella grins at her. “So? What brings you to New York?” she asks as she leads her off the elevator and to the end of the hall, opening the heavy door there.
“I was supposed to meet Logan but his flight was delayed until tomorrow, and I didn’t get that message until I got here, and I was just...trying to decide whether I should go back to the train station, or find a place to stay.”
“You can stay here,” Ella offers as she leads her inside and sheds her coat. “I have plenty of room, and plenty of food for hunkering down in this weather.”
“I mean...I don’t want to impose,” Rory says, though as she looks around, she has to admit that the apartment is beautiful. Filled with antique furniture and show posters, some of them identical to the ones in Midge and Lenny’s house in Stars Hollow.
“Not at all,” Ella smiles. “Besides, who wants to be snowed in alone. Well. I wouldn’t really be alone. Mort is here.”
“Mort?” Rory asks.
Ella makes a “pspsps” noise and a little black and white cat comes running out, bell around its neck jingling, and proceeds to rubs against Rory’s legs. “Rory, meet Mort.”
Rory grins and leans down, petting the cat. “Wait. Did you name your cat after Mort Sahl?”
“Yep. Pop-Pop was so mad. It was so worth it.”  
Rory laughs a little before she sheds her own coat and follows her to the kitchen, which is pink. “Whoa. Talk about retro.” 
“It was updated and boring,” Ella explains. “I…may have had it restored to its sixties glory.” 
“Cool,” Rory smiles as she wanders around. 
“Thanks,” Ella grins as she starts making coffee. “Sorry Logan was delayed.” 
“It’s okay,” Rory shrugs. “It happens. You know. He’s in London, so.” 
“That’s gotta be tough,” Ella nods. “I mean, Jess is two hours away and that feels far. I can’t imagine what an entire ocean must feel like.”
“It…definitely feels like an ocean,” Rory confirms. 
“Sucks,” Ella says sympathetically as she pours them both some coffee. “Cream? Sugar?” 
“Black’s good,” Rory tells her.
Ella grins and pulls some cream out for herself and sits down as she doctors her coffee. 
“So, where were you coming from?” Rory asks. 
“Practice,” Ella sighs. 
“Didn’t go well?” 
“I need to audition some new people,” Ella shrugs. “My drummer is starting to be kind of a dick.” 
“That sucks,” Rory says. “Any good candidates for a replacement?” 
“Not yet,” Ella shrugs. 
“I mean…she’s kind of in a band already, but…my friend Lane from Stars Hollow is really good,” Rory mentions. 
Ella tilts her head, looking interested. “I remember her, she was cool. That’s good to know. Do you have a phone number?” 
Rory nods eagerly, pulling her phone out to grab it, and recites it while Ella writes it down.
“Thanks, Rory.” 
“No problem,” Rory grins. “She kind of just broke up with her boyfriend who was the guitar player in her band, and so things are a mess. I bet she could use a new music situation.” 
“I’ll give her a call.” 
“Great.” Rory sips her coffee and purses her lips. “So…how are things with you and Jess?” 
“Good,” Ella shrugs. “He’s been really busy with work lately, so we haven’t seen each other in a minute, but once the snow moves on, I’ll probably head his way.” 
“Nice,” Rory nods. 
Ella tilts her head at her, seemingly inspecting her, and Rory shifts a little under the scrutiny. 
“It was weird of me to ask,” she blurts out. “I’m sorry. That was weird.” 
“No, it’s fine,” Ella assures her. “You and Jess are friends.” 
“But we used to be more than friends.” 
“That happens,” Ella shrugs. 
“It’s still weird.” 
“It’s only as weird as you make it.” Ella gets to her feet then, heading for the door. 
“Where are you going?” Rory asks. 
“To get us some social lubricant,” Ella smirks back at her. “Wanna see where Gramma Midge used to hide the hooch from her parents?” 
“Yes,” Rory says, getting to her feet. “Yes, I do.” 
She’s led through the apartment and into the master bedroom, where Ella pulls a panel from the floor, where there is an expensive-looking bottle of whiskey. “This,” she says. “Was given to Midge by Shy Baldwin as a birthday gift, and she did not want to share with her parents, who were still living here at the time. Probably…1962? 63? She and Lenny were dating.” 
“Cool,” Rory chirps. “Historical hooch.” 
“She forgot about it, the people who lived here after her never found it, and then I bought the place, and here it was.” 
“Is it good?” 
“I haven’t tried it yet,” Ella says.
“No time like the present?” 
“Fuck, yeah.” 
***** 
Which is how Rory winds up drunk on the floor of the living room in Midge Maisel’s old apartment, staring up at the crown molding. 
Ella is draped on the couch, equally drunk, glass dangling from her hand. “I need to ask you something very important.” 
Rory takes a breath and rolls onto her back, looking at the other girl. “What?” 
“I need to know,” Ella says, pointing her glass. “Why you fucked Dean.” 
“Ella!” 
“Come on, I am dying here! I’m so fucking curious! I asked Jess and he just told me he had to use the bathroom.” 
Rory huffs. “Well, at least I can count on him not to be terrible about it. I was kind of worried about that.” 
Ella takes a breath. “He hates that guy. And having been subjected to him briefly at that bid-a-basket thing in September, I see why.”
“Dean wasn’t a bad guy,” Rory argues, pouting. “He was…” she sighs heavily. “I was…” She blinks, doing her best to collect her thoughts. “Do you ever just fall into something and before you’ve had the chance to realize it, everything has gone to hell?” 
“So many times,” Ella grins. 
“That’s…kind of how it was with Dean,” Rory shrugs. “He was nice to me. And he told me his marriage was making him miserable, and I fell for it, like the idiot I am-” 
“The impending Yale degree says otherwise.” 
“No, really. I was so stupid. We…we fell into bed together,” Rory explains. “And it was…” she thinks about it. “Terrible. I mean, compared to subsequent sexual experiences, it was bad.” 
“First times always are.”
“I thought it was nice at the time. He was nice to me. He made sure I was okay. But it was…”
“Bad.” 
“Yep.” Rory refills her glass and takes a long swig. “My turn.” 
“Your turn?” Ella asks, lifting an eyebrow. 
“Yep. You asked me an uncomfortable question, now it’s my turn.” 
Ella laughs. “Shoot.” 
“Jess.” 
“Yeah.” 
“Sex. With Jess.” 
Ella takes a sip, lifting an eyebrow at her. “You really want to know?” 
“No,” Rory blurts out. “Yes. I don’t know. I just- we never really - I mean- we did some stuff.”
The blonde shrugs casually. “It’s good. He’s not like a sex god or anything. But it’s pleasurable and he’s considerate and it’s always nice when it’s someone you care about. There have been a couple of like - you know. Really, really good rounds. I woke up his roommates once.” 
Rory giggles, and huffs out a breath. “You know one time - right before the thing with Dean - Jess asked me to run away with him.” 
Ella nods, obviously thinking that over. “That doesn’t surprise me. He was really in love with you. He was just a wreck.” 
“I couldn’t deal with a wreck,” Rory tells her. “I couldn’t - I needed someone I could count on. And Jess, back then. He wasn’t that guy, you know?” 
“Hey,” Ella says, sitting up. “You don’t have to justify not wanting to run away with a guy who broke your heart. I mean the whole fucking your married ex thing, yeah I wanna know more, but like - people have to find themselves, you know? In their own time, in their own way. He wasn’t there yet.” 
“He’s there now,” Rory says, laying on her back again. “I missed the boat.” 
“You have Logan.” 
“I do.” 
“You love Logan.” 
“Yes. Mostly.” 
“Mostly?” 
“Mostly.” 
“Okay.” 
“Logan is - spoiled,” Rory shrugs. “I mean, so am I. Right? I’m a spoiled brat too. And so are you! You’re a spoiled brat.” 
“Guilty,” Ella giggles. “I mean, my parents were never famous. My mom’s a social worker. My Dad -” she stops. “What does my dad do? Whatever. The point is, My mom tried to raise me like a normal person, but my grandparents are really famous. And that came with some brattiness.” 
“Right. And…I…have rich grandparents, too. So rich. They’re insane. Insane! There is a hand-painted portrait of me hanging in my grandfather’s study,” Rory babbles. “Like…Like…” 
“The Picture of Dorian Gray?” Ella supplies with another giggle. 
Rory groans. “Yes. I will die of hideous old age once it is destroyed! Woe is me!” 
They both laugh at that, a little uncontrollably as they drink more.
“Dean was safe,” Rory tells her. “I thought he was safe. He was…I don’t know. I don’t know! It felt so right at the time, and now, looking back on it…god. What was I thinking?” 
“Big dick?” Ella offers.
“No.” 
“No?” Ella asks, a little shocked, sloshing her drink. “He’s so tall! It’s not proportionate?!” 
“Ella!”
“Fine.” 
They go quiet after that for a little while.
“Do you love Jess?” Rory asks. 
Ella thinks about that for a moment before answering. “I think so. Yeah. He’s sweet. He’s funny. Smart. Kind of a music and book snob, but it’s fun to prove him wrong on stuff. My family likes him. He doesn’t do hard drugs. Easy to love.”
“I think I might be jealous,” Rory admits quietly. “As much as I love Logan…it’s not - it’s- I don’t know.” 
Ella takes a breath. “You know, when he and I first got together, I figured the first sign that you wanted him back, he’d go running.” 
“I don’t think that’s true,” Rory says. “I think he loves you back. And we’re not the same people we used to be.” 
“And you mostly love Logan.” 
Rory nods. “Mostly.”
“More booze?” 
“Yes, please.” 
***** 
She wakes up still on the floor with Ella next to her and blinks a little.
“Ella?” she groans, sitting up slowly and looking around. 
The other girl grunts and sits up too, pushing messy blonde locks away from her face. “Morning.” 
“What happened?” 
“We drank,” Ella tells her, grinning sleepily. “We split an entire bottle of Glenlivet.” 
Rory slumps back down. “Ugh.” 
“Coffee?” Ella asks. 
“God, yes, please.” 
Ella struggles to her feet, teetering a little. “You got it. Coffee a-go-go.” 
“Why did we drink so much?” Rory whines.
“Because I wanted you to talk about Dean’s dick size,” Ella jokes.
“Oh god.” 
“Later in the night you totally admitted to letting Jess fingerbang you in high school after a Distillers concert,” Ella adds. 
“God!” 
Ella laughs and starts the coffee, before wandering back out. “Shower’s yours if you want it.” 
“I don’t know if I can stand. How do you drink so much?” 
“I’m a musician with a drug problem,” Ella shrugs. 
“Wait, what? Should you be drinking?” 
“I don’t know. I feel fine.” 
“Oh…kay.” 
“Oh! And full disclosure, you definitely kissed me last night,” Ella smirks, before heading back for the kitchen. “Shower and then there will be coffee and breakfast.” 
“I kissed you?!” Rory squeaks, struggling to her feet and rushing after her. “I kissed you?!” 
“It was just a peck.” 
“Why did I kiss you?” 
“Something about getting back at Logan for fucking a bunch of blondes a couple years ago,” Ella tells her. “Rory, it’s no big deal. We were drunk. It was one kiss, there was no tongue.” 
“Are you going to tell Jess?” 
“Probably.” 
“Ella.” 
“He’s my boyfriend, he deserves to know where my lips have been.” 
“He’ll be mad.” 
“Probably just weirded out a little,” Ella corrects her. “Because it’s a little weird, but it was fine. You’re a good kisser.” 
“Oh god.” 
Ella turns to her then. “Rory. It was literally one kiss, and it meant nothing. We were drunk. If you tell Logan, he’ll probably just think it’s hot. Jess will think it’s a little strange, but he’ll be fine, because it was one kiss, and if they’d been here, they would have ogled us in truly bizarre ways. Go shower.” 
“You’re just so cool about all this stuff.” 
“My grandfather has been screaming about the depuritanization of physical love for like fifty years,” Ella shrugs. “And I am a woman of loose morals. Calm the fuck down and go shower.”
Rory stares at her for a long moment. “You’re not the first girl I’ve kissed, you know. Does this make me gay?” 
Ella snorts out a laugh. 
“Okay, so that’s a no.” 
“Go.” Ella freezes. “Wait, who was the first girl you kissed?” 
“Paris attacked me on spring break once,” Rory tells her. “And then wanted me to rate her as a kisser.” 
Ella laughs and then winces, clutching her head. “Ugh. Hangover.” 
“Glenlivet,” Rory laments.
“Glenlivet,” Ella agrees. 
22 notes · View notes
pepethehobbit · 3 years
Text
Take the sadness out of Saturday nights
VDS Week 2021
Day 2: Enemies/Friends to Lovers/ Meet-Cute
Word Count: 6015
(Title from Stop making this hurt by the Bleachers)
Ao3
Lucas heads straight to the bar as he enters the pub. He doesn't really want to be here but he also doesn't want to be at home, where his ex-boyfriend is currently picking up his stuff. Thankfully, he lives with Kes, who stayed there so he can kick him out when he's done. It's been two days since Lucas has broken things off with him and they weren't even together that long. It's not like Lucas was seriously in love with him, which is why he doesn't understand why he's so sad. He orders a vodka soda straight away because he intends to drink until he forgets about this empty feeling in his chest. The bartender sets the glass down in front of him and Lucas takes in his surroundings for the first time since he sat down as he begins sipping on his drink.
At the back of the pub he notices a makeshift stage with a microphone and a guitar already set up. The bar itself is only moderately crowded so Lucas figures whoever is going to perform on there tonight won't be very known. He notices a group of guys directly in front of the stage sitting at one of the bigger tables. Lucas can't make out what they are saying but it's clear that they are excited to be here, so they must know who's going to perform. The sadness in his heart grows heavier as he watches how the guy with the platinum blonde hair leans over to the guy with the curly brown hair to give him a kiss on the cheek and to place a comforting hand is curls. It's the easy familiarity and comfort that even a stranger like Lucas can so clearly see that makes his heart ache for the same thing.
He is about to stand up and leave, suddenly feeling pathetic for getting drunk in a bar all alone on a Saturday night, when he sees someone getting on stage and hanging the guitar around his shoulders. The guy starts tuning his guitar and Lucas is fascinated how the skilled and fast fingers are playing over the strings. He steps up to the microphone, taps it once to see if it's on and only then does he look up for the first time since he entered the stage. Lucas would try and suppress the memory later but he can't deny the fact that his heart skipped a beat when he looked into those eyes for the first time. He knows it's ridiculous but the guy feels familiar. His eyes are emanating a warmth and kindness that makes it hard for Lucas to tear his gaze away.
“Hi everyone. I'm Jens Stoffels and if you don't mind I'm going to sing a few of my songs for you tonight. I hope you enjoy.” Lucas hears excited whoops coming from the table at the front and the rest of the crowd joins in with their clapping. The guy, Jens, smiles at his friends and shakes his head in a way that Lucas can only describe as fond. And when Jens begins to sing Lucas' last shreds of wanting to leave have disintegrated completely. His voice is soft and powerful at once, calming like a comforting blanket and Lucas is in awe at how effortlessly beautiful Jens is when he sings.
During the song Jens lets his eyes wander over the crowd, probably taking in their reaction when he gets to the bar and his gaze stops at Lucas. Lucas feels his heartbeat quicken as a small seemingly surprised smile spreads on Jens' face while he is still singing. He can feel his own smile spreading, albeit much shyer and less open then Jens'. He holds his gaze a few seconds longer before the moment gets too much for Lucas and he drops his gaze towards his drink. Taking a sip from his vodka soda he wonders how such a short moment of eye contact can make him feel so jittery and vulnerably exposed.
Lucas lets Jens' voice and beautiful lyrics fill his ears and mind. His songs are beautiful, from melodic and slow to upbeat and happy and Lucas can't help but chancing a glance towards the man on stage every now and then. He is surprised when at some of those glimpses Jens is already looking back at him. And even though Lucas couldn't rationally explain why, Jens somehow feels significant.
When Jens announces his last song for tonight an unreasonable disappointment overcomes Lucas, not wanting Jens to stop singing. “My last song for tonight is called 'Hoping'. I hope you enjoy and thank you for a beautiful night.” Jens' words are directed at the whole crowd but his gaze is solely on Lucas as he says them. There is a shy smile playing at his mouth and Lucas feels himself blush, but this time he is unable to look away from Jens' warm eyes. Jens begins to play and as Lucas lets the song and the beautiful melody wash over him as he realizes it's about a boy hoping to find love.
It's impossible. Lucas shouldn't feel this affected by someone he hasn't even talked to and yet somehow he knows that Jens is already under his skin. The song ends and Jens sends another thank you out to the crowd and finds Lucas gaze once again, sending him a determined smile. Jens gets off the stage, disappears somewhere backstage and Lucas releases an unbelieving little laugh at the whole situation. He takes the chance to look at his phone and when he sees the message, reality comes crashing down on him like a ton of bricks.
Kes
He's gone now. It's safe to come home.
All at once, the sadness is back and Lucas is reminded of the situation that brought him here in the first place. He is going to go home and he's going to be alone again, because apparently Lucas isn't able to find someone to love. He knows he sounds ridiculous, he's only 21 but with his track record of shitty boyfriends it's hard to believe that he will find someone who will not only accept his love but also return it.
When he walks to the door he chances one last look over his shoulder towards the stage. He sees Jens surrounded by his friends, laughing and smiling and generally happy. And as if Jens can feel the eyes on him he looks up and meets Lucas' gaze, just like he did for the rest of the night. Jens' smile drops when he sees that Lucas is on his way out, disappointment flashing across his face. Lucas falters for a moment, unsure if he's really the cause for such a look. But his insecurities take the upper hand and with one last sad smile at Jens he steps out of the bar and into the coldness of the streets of Amsterdam.
~0~
Jens can't stop thinking about the boy from the bar with the beautiful but sad eyes. It was three weeks ago but somehow this boy, whose name he doesn't even know has planted roots in his mind and Jens can't bring himself to tear them out. The first thing he noticed about him, when he saw him sitting down at the bar, was that he looked sad and Jens was confused about the strong urge to find out why and make it better. When their eyes met during his first song, Jens had to seriously concentrate not to mess up the chords and keep singing. Though he couldn't stop the smile from spreading around his moving mouth when he saw the boy smile for the first time since he entered the bar. Jens was so intrigued by him, wanted to hold his gaze and find out everything there is to know about the boy with the ocean eyes and the artfully tousled blond curls.
But then he just left and Jens felt more disappointed than he rationally should have. Because all they did was exchange shy smiles and hesitating glances, but he can't shake the feeling that it meant more, something significant. He catches himself before his thoughts wander off in that direction again, because in the end they all lead down to the hopeless impossibility of ever seeing that boy again. In a city like Amsterdam he can't expect that he will simply pass him in the streets. And even if he does, the boy left. Maybe he interpreted it all wrong and the boy wasn't interested in him at all, he wouldn't even have the courage to speak with him should he ever run in to him.
His job at the cafe on campus works as a good way to distract him. He only started a little over a month ago, wanting to help his parents pay his college fees and rent. With him studying music he already makes his parents worry about their son's future and he doesn't want them to worry about the money as well. His music also helps, even if just a little. He sells a few CDs but it's mostly over streaming services that he gets a few royalties. It's not enough to make a living out of but Jens hopes that one day he can live off of what he really wants to do.
Jens hears the jingle of the bell when the door of the cafe opens and he snaps out of his thoughts, ready to greet the customer. Only he can't get any words out and freezes on the spot when he sees the man who just walked in. His attention is on his phone, head turned down but Jens  recognize him anyway. The boy from the bar steps up to the counter and Jens is unsure about how he should handle this. Should he tell him? Does that come of as creepy? Would he even recognize Jens? It's the last thought makes Jens decide to hide the fact that he remembers him and he simply does his job. “Hi, what can get you today?”
The boys head snaps up finally and Jens really wasn't prepared to see those blue eyes again. He isn't sure how to interpret the look on his face, a mixture of disbelief and shock, in fact for a moment it looks like he's ready to bolt again. Does he recognize him? The longer the boy stares at him the surer Jens is that he does and a weird fluttering feeling is spreading in his stomach.
“One large caramel macchiato, please,” is all he says in the end, face turning away from Jens. He isn't sure but Jens thinks it's to hide the blush spreading on his cheeks. Jens is about to turn around to start working on his coffee when he remembers he still doesn't know the boy's name.
“Can I have a name for the order?” Jens tries to put on his most charming smile and hopes that the boy won't take notice of the fact that they don't really ask for the names anymore, only if it's super busy, which it isn't for a Tuesday afternoon. The boy looks up again, then around the mostly empty coffee shop and it's Jens turn to blush when he smiles at him, as if he knows. “Lucas. My name is Lucas.”
Lucas. His name is Lucas. Jens can't stop the happy smile from spreading as he turns around to work on his order. He feels Lucas' eyes follow him as he prepares the coffee and it makes his pulse quicken in excitement. Jens contemplates if he should write his number on the cup or if that's maybe a bit too much. In the end, he chickens out and simply tells him his total. “That makes 3,50€, Lucas,” Jens says as he places the cup in front of him, wanting to know how the name would feel falling from his lips. Lucas smiles at him again as he pays for his drink and the fluttery feeling in his stomach comes back in full force.
“Thanks you, Jens,” Lucas says with a slight blush but confidently meeting Jens' stunned gaze. Jens can't do anything but watch Lucas leave once again, but when he turns around at the door to look at him over his shoulder, Lucas doesn't look sad this time. As soon as Lucas leaves, Jens looks down at his apron. A feeling of hope flowing through him and for the millionth time today, he can't stop the smile from spreading on his face.
He isn't wearing his name tag.
~0~
Lucas can't believe his luck. He must have done some serious good deeds in his past life to deserve this second chance. Almost as soon as he left that bar three weeks ago he regretted his decision. This regret only got worse as soon as he told Kes and Jayden about that evening, both agreeing that he is an idiot for leaving. He couldn't stop thinking about Jens, the way he smiled at Lucas and the way his music made him feel. Lucas admitted to Kes that through a little bit of online stalking he was able to find his Spotify and it's all he's listened to in the first week and then deciding that it felt like a little bit too much. He even found Jens' Instagram but wasn't brave enough to press the follow button, scared of the attention that would bring. Because even though Jens has considerably more followers than Lucas, he hasn't gotten enough that he wouldn't notice a new person following him.
He tried not to think too much about him, instead focusing his attention on his current art project he needs to do for his contemporary art lecture. But it's harder than Lucas thought it would be, not thinking about Jens. He comes across so many things that remind him of that night: Jayden got it in his head to learn how to play guitar, Kes is actively torturing him by playing Jens' music on Spotify every time Lucas enters his room and Lucas isn't sure but he thought he saw the guy with the platinum blonde hair in his art history lecture.
Despite this, he thinks that he deals fairly well with the fact that he missed his opportunity with Jens and simply wants to move on with his life. He can't keep wondering what would've happened if he had stayed. And because his life is simultaneously the best and the worst he meets Jens again when he expects him the least. He wasn't sure if Jens remembered him, couldn't really get a read on his expression but when he not so subtly tried to find out his name and when he smiled at Lucas when he gave it to him, the hope of having gotten a second chance to get to know Jens spread a comforting warmth around Lucas' heart.
Lucas wants to go back the next day, hoping Jens will be there again but he also doesn't want him to think he is a stalker or something. So he waits a few more days and then goes to the coffee shop around the same time of day he caught Jens the last time. A giddy feeling makes his way into his stomach when he sees Jens cleaning a table at the window of the cafe. The jingle alerts Jens to his presence as he opens the door and when he meets Lucas' gaze a wide smile spreads on his face. Lucas ducks his head and smiles to himself as he walks up to the counter. There is another barista behind the counter ready to take his order but before she can do so Jens is there to say: “I'll take his order.” She looks at him confused but when her gaze turns towards Lucas and back towards Jens, she just nods once, smiles knowingly at Jens and nudges his elbow as she takes over Jens' task of cleaning the tables. Lucas watches the exchange with an amused smile and then Jens turns his attention towards him. “Large caramel macchiato?” Jens asks him with a hint of pride in his voice for having remembered Lucas' order.
“Yes, please. I want to drink it here though,” Lucas says and he notices how Jens smile grows even deeper. “Okay, I'll bring it to you when it's done. That makes 3,50€ again.” Lucas pays for his drink and chooses a table where he'll be able to subtly watch Jens behind the counter. He gets out his sketchbook and begins drawing random little sketches while he waits. He doesn't notice Jens approaching and looks up startled when he places down the coffee and a blueberry muffin he didn't order. Lucas looks down at the muffin and back up at Jens who answers his question before he can even ask it.
“For you, Lucas. On the house,” he says with a sure smile and a wink, just as Lucas thought Jens couldn't fluster him any more than he already does. Hearing his name falling from Jens lips makes his heart beat faster. He tries to collect his last shreds of composure, smiles up at him and asks: “Do you want to share?”
With a glance to his watch and his eyes shining with excitement he answers: “I'm on break in 30 minutes. Will you wait?”
“Yeah, okay, I'll wait,” Lucas says easily, the thrill of finally getting to spend time with Jens making him giddy. Jens lingers for a moment, returning Lucas' smile before making his way back to the counter. Lucas watches him as he goes and he wonders when the last time was that he was this excited about something.
Lucas tries not watch him all the time, but Jens catches him looking every once in a while and he smiles at Lucas every single time, so Lucas figures he can't be too bothered by it. He turns his attention back to his sketchbook, letting his hand wander across the paper and before he even realized he was doing it, he'd drawn a sketch of Jens, albeit rough but undeniably him. Before he can even think about hiding it, Jens suddenly slips into the chair opposite of Lucas and takes a look at the drawing of him.
“Is that me?” Jens' voice sounds awed and the anxiety in Lucas stomach eases a bit, glad that Jens isn't creeped out by Lucas drawing him.
“Yeah, that's supposed to be you. Do you like it?” Lucas asks with barely concealed hope. Jens turns his attention from the drawing back to Lucas and looks at him with the same awed expression that was mirrored in his voice. “Yes, Lucas this is incredible! How long did that take you?”
Lucas blushes at the compliment and Jens gaze turns fond. “I don't know? Like twenty minutes?”
“You drew this in 20 minutes?” Jens asks disbelieving. Lucas tries his best not to laugh at the shocked expression on his face. “Yes, honestly Jens. It's just a rough sketch, it's really not that good.” Jens scoffs as he turns his attention back to the drawing. His voice is soft when he asks: “Can I keep it?”
Lucas throat suddenly feels tight and he has to clear his throat before he answers so his voice doesn't come out hoarse, an inexplicable feeling overcoming him over Jens wanting to keep his drawing. “Yeah, if you want to, it's yours.”
Jens' answering “Thanks, Luc” is so soft and awed and the smile he sends Lucas causes every butterfly in his stomach to start flying all at once. They look at each other for a few moments longer, something significant passing through their gaze before Jens breaks the eye contact and asks: “So, you're an artist?”
“I want to be. I study art at the academy.” Jens' head snaps back up again and he asks: “Really? A friend of mine studies there as well. Maybe you know him? Sander Driesen? He has this, like, platinum blonde hair, always wears Doc Martins?”
Lucas thinks back to his art history class and yeah, he's seen him a couple of times, but he never knew his name. He remembers seeing him at Jens' performance first though and he contemplates whether he should tell Jens this. They still haven't really acknowledged the fact that they both recognize each other from that night, apart from Lucas calling Jens by his name the last time. So Lucas decides to jump in at the deep end.
“Wasn't he also at your concert?” Lucas asks hesitantly, but carefully watching Jens' reaction. He turns to him surprised but then a small smile is tugging at the corners of his lips and he nods. “Yeah, he was there, with a few of my other friends. Sander's boyfriend is my best friend, Robbe.”
“I noticed them. They were really loud in their support for you.” Lucas lets out a little laugh at the memory and Jens raises his eyebrows daringly when he asks: “Shouldn't they have been?”
“Fishing for compliments?” Lucas asks in return and laughs at the way Jens rolls his eyes. When Jens doesn't say anything in back, Lucas rips of a little piece of the muffin and then nudges it in Jens' direction, silently telling him that he can do the same.
“I really liked your music,” Lucas admits after a while, breaking the companionable silence.
“Really?” Jens asks and his voice sounds hopeful, as if Lucas opinion matters to him.
“Yeah,” Lucas admits before he ducks his head and continues. “I found you on Spotify and listened to your songs for a week straight.” Jens doesn't say anything for a while and Lucas is scared that he said too much, but when he finally looks back up at Jens he watches him with an expression that makes his heart beat faster and his hope grow even more. Lucas feels vulnerable and exposed with the way Jens is looking at him, but he somehow isn't scared.
Jens clears his throat and nervously fidgets with the muffin before he asks: “There is this bar that I'm playing at next Saturday. Do you, I mean, do you want to come with me? As my date?”
Lucas' grin is impossibly wide when Jens looks at him again and he nods excitedly as he gives his answer. “Yes. Yes, I would love to.” Lucas doesn't even try to conceal the obvious happiness in his voice and Jens' eyes light up at his answer.
“Okay. Give me your number, then I can text you the details.” Jens pulls out his phone and hands it over so Lucas can put his number in. Their fingers brush as Lucas takes it out of Jens' hand, the feeling of Jens' skin on his flowing through him like electricity. As Lucas hands back the phone when he is done, he does it on purpose, caressing the back of Jens' hand with his index finger. Jens' smile is blinding and Lucas can only think, once again, how beautiful Jens is.
“I need to get back to work now,” Jens says, but he doesn't move away from Lucas' table or even takes his hand away. “Okay,” Lucas answers but doesn't release Jens' hand either. Jens looks at him and lets out a happy, disbelieving laugh as he eventually stands up to leave, taking the sketch Lucas drew of him. “I'll see you on Saturday, then.” Lucas simply nods his head, even though it wasn't a question.
Jens gets back to work and Lucas finishes his coffee and muffin. When he gets up to leave, he catches Jens gaze once again and gives a small wave as he walks to the door. He is already out of the cafe when someone gently grabs his elbow and turns him around. Jens is in front of him and Lucas' heart begins to beat impossibly fast as he leans down to press a gentle but lingering kiss to Lucas' cheek. “See you on Saturday, I'll text you,” Jens repeats in a soft voice and then he is gone again. Lucas barely resists the urge to lift his hand to his cheek like a freaking cliché but he can't stop smiling on his way home.
~0~
Jens is a bundle of nerves on Saturday. He texted Lucas as soon as his shift ended and they basically never stopped. It's ridiculous how much he already likes him and if he's being honest, he's a little scared that he's gonna mess this up and they haven't even got past their first date. Which is tonight and Jens can't for the life of him find his usual ever present chill.
He texted Lucas that he should meet him at the bar, Jens wanted to pick him up but he had to be here a little earlier to set everything up. He's nervous to perform in front of Lucas again, even though he already told him he liked his music. The bar he performs at tonight is a little bit smaller than the last one, it feels more intimate and cozier, which doesn't help to settle his nerves. There are already several people sitting at the tables and a few at the bar, but tonight there's really only one guest he wants to impress.
He tries concentrating on setting up his guitar and already starts tuning it. The familiarity and routine of the task does manage to calm him down a bit but there is still this permanent undercurrent of excitement and nervousness flowing through him. Checking his watch, he's startled to realizes that Lucas should be here any minute. He finishes the last little tasks of setting up and goes to the bar to order a beer. It's a soft spoken “Hey” that alerts Jens to his presence.
He turns around and tries not to be so obvious in his admiration as he takes in Lucas. His hair is curlier than usual, as if he put extra care into it today. Jens wants to pull his hands through it to find out if it's as soft as it looks. “Hey,” Jens replies and is surprised about himself how steady his voice sounds. “Do you want a drink?”
“Sure, I'll take a beer,” says Lucas and sits down next to Jens at the bar, hands on top of the counter, close to Jens' own.
“I'm really happy that you're here,” Jens admits with a hesitant glance towards Lucas who smiles softly in response.
“Me too. I can't wait to hear you play again. I'm pretty sure I could sing along to all the songs now.” Lucas says with a little laugh and his fingers move hesitantly towards Jens', overlapping their pinkies.
“Yeah, I noticed my Spotify streams growing a bit in the last weeks,” Jens say with a teasing smile but he turns his hand around so he can tangle his fingers with Lucas' properly. Lucas looks down at their joined hands and then points his gaze back towards Jens, raising his eyebrows in a challenge. “What kind of groupie would I be if I didn't even know your songs?”
Jens lets out a surprised laugh and Lucas expression turns amused. “Well, I guess I should be honored to have you as my first groupie, then.”
Lucas' grin turns smug as he says: “You definitely should be.” Jens hasn't noticed how close they actually sit together but then he feels Lucas' knee pressing into his thigh and he's pretty sure he doesn't imagine the pleased smile on his face when Jens pushes back.
“So, what do you do when you aren't working at the cafe or collecting groupies?” Lucas asks after a while and Jens has to laugh again but this time because he thinks he can hear a hint of worry in Lucas' voice, as if there was someone else.
“I think you're seriously overestimating my charm here, Luc. So far I only have one groupie and I hope it stays that way.” Jens hopes he doesn't give away too much but so far Lucas seems to have appreciated his boldness. “That's good to know,” Lucas says and squeezes Jens' hand once.
“And you? Isn't there any kind of muse who's waiting to be drawn by you?” Lucas seems to fight a smile that wants to work its way onto his face and he bites his bottom lip to fight it down. He looks up at Jens and holds his gaze for an excruciatingly long time before he says: “That depends. Do you want another portrait of you?”
Jens heart beats faster at the implication and he has to break the eye contact, feeling flustered at the words. As soon as he got home that day he put the drawing on his dresser and Robbe had teased him mercilessly for it, but Jens didn't care. Lucas' drawing of him was so completely different from how he sees himself. Of course, it was obviously Jens, but there was this expression in his eyes that Jens didn't recognize on himself and he was intrigued to find out more about how Lucas sees him.
When he looks up again, Lucas is much closer than he was before and his eyes have dropped down to his mouth. Jens licks his lips, unconsciously leaning closer when–
“Jens, you're up,” says the bartender and Lucas jumps back startled as if he was as lost in their own little space as Jens was. Jens is surprised how easy it is to get lost in a world of Lucas, he nearly forgot that he is supposed to perform tonight. Jens draws back reluctantly and the bartender shoots him an apologetic smile.
He gets up from his stool but not letting go of Luc's hand yet. Jens turns to him, squeezes his hand once and says: “I'll see you later then.”
Lucas' voice is a little breathless when he says: “Yeah, I'll be here.”
Jens sends him one last smile before he steps back and makes his way towards the stage. He grabs his guitar, checks once again if it's tuned correctly and steps up to the microphone to introduce himself to the crowd. “Hello everyone. I'm Jens Stoffels and I'm gonna be playing a few of my songs tonight. I hope you enjoy.”
He lets his eyes wander over the people in the bar but his eyes finds Lucas' quickly and he begins to play.
~0~
Lucas couldn't think it possible but Jens' performance leaves him even more mesmerized than the first one. Probably because Jens' gaze doesn't sway from Lucas' eyes all that often and Lucas is equally as unable to look away as Jens seems to be. And every time Jens catches him singing along to one of his songs the smile that spreads on his face settles something inside Lucas' heart. He remembers the feeling of getting lost in Jens' music and voice only this time it isn't tinged with Lucas' sadness. His pulse quickens every time Jens looks at him and this time Lucas holds is gaze, isn't afraid anymore to get pulled in by Jens' gravity.
Lucas has said it as a joke, but sitting here, being one of the only ones who actually knows the songs and knows Jens, it actually feels like he is his groupie. And when Lucas lets his eyes wander over the other people in the room, taking in their reaction to Jens he knows Jens was wrong. Lucas didn't overestimate his charm one bit. Everyone's attention is solely on Jens as he captivates them with his easy smile, beautiful voice and melodic tunes. He jokes during songs, engages with his audience and when he announces his last song Lucas can actually see some disappointed faces.
The last song Lucas doesn't know and that alone catches him off guard. It's beautiful though and Lucas is enthralled by the tenderness of the lyrics. From what he can tell it's about meeting someone and knowing they're gonna be significant, important to you in a way others weren't until now. Lucas wonders when Jens wrote this song because it feels eerily familiar to what he's been feeling since he met Jens.
When the last notes are slowly fading out there is a moment of complete silence until the whole bar erupts into applause. Lucas is the loudest one of all, cheering for Jens vigorously and shooting him an elated smile when he finds his eyes. Jens looks a little overwhelmed with the reception but returns Lucas' smile with an even brighter one. He thanks his audience once again, places his guitar back in the stand and heads straight towards Lucas. On his way he gets stopped a few times, people complementing him on his performance, but when he is finally close enough he steps right in between Lucas' legs, takes his head in between both hands and gently rests his forehead onto Lucas'.
“Hi,” is all Jens says, his voice sounding giddy and happy and a little breathless. Lucas can feel a few eyes on them but he ignores them for now, letting his hands settle on Jens' waist. He looks up into his eyes and his voice is just as affected when he replies with a “Hi” of his own.
“Wanna get out of here?”
“Yes.”
Jens steps back and tells the bartender that he will pick up his stuff tomorrow, who gives him a knowing smile and throws in a teasing “Have fun.” Lucas absolutely does not blush at that but Jens simply laughs and pulls Lucas out of the bar.
As soon as they are outside Lucas can't hold in his excitement anymore. “Jens, that was absolutely incredible! Honestly, you are amazing!” Jens blushes at the compliment but there is a smile dancing across his face, his eyes alive with wonder. “Thank you, Luc.”
They begin walking down the street and Lucas reaches for Jens' hand and tangles their fingers together. Jens looks at him from the side and his eyes roam over Lucas' face as if searching for something. He looks away again and says quietly: “That last song was for you.”
Lucas stops dead in his tracks and it makes Jens turn around to face him. The reached one of the many bridges of Amsterdam, the lights of the city reflected in the river and for a Saturday night it's pleasantly void of any people. Lucas turns the words over in his head but there's no way he heard them wrong. His voice is breathless as he asks: “You wrote a song for me?”
Jens blushes again but he meets Lucas' gaze head on, eyes soft and hopeful. “Yeah. Did you like it?” Lucas is momentarily rendered speechless but then he steps into Jens' space, lets one hand slide through Jens' hair and settles it at his neck. He moves in slowly to give Jens the chance to move away, leaning his forehead against Jens', noses bumping together gently and before he closes the final distance between their lips he whispers: “Is this okay?”
Jens doesn't answer but Lucas feels his eyes fluttering shut when Jens brushes his lips against his own. He melts against Jens, moving his lips softly and letting his hands brush through Jens' hair. When Jens' hands settle on Lucas' waist to pull him closer Lucas deepens the kiss and he feels more than he hears it, the contented little hum that Jens lets out.
Lucas has never felt like this before. Jens feels so familiar and easy and just so right. Before he met Jens he didn't believe in soulmates. But what else could he be if not exactly that? From the first moment he saw him, stepping onto that stage, Lucas knew that Jens was gonna be important. He was scared about it at first, wasn't ready for what this means, but then the universe gave him a second chance and this time, Lucas lets himself be pulled into Jens' orbit willingly, ready for what ever the universe has in store for them.
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Text
Wicked Game
Part 4 of We Dance Together Now
An O’Knutzy au where Leo and Logan are still playing for the Lions, but Finn is a musician/grad student they met by chance on a roadie to Montreal.
Here are the first few parts!
Part 1 - Jingle Bell Rock
Part 2 - This City
Part 3 - Shut Up and Drive
I also stuck this up on AO3, my username there is the same :)
I struggled a LOT with this chapter. I’m still not sure it’s done what I wanted it to do, but I hope it works. And I hope you like it :) 
I’m suuuuuper excited for the next one, I’ve had it half-written since I started this fic! 
These beautiful characters and their world belong to the incredible @lumosinlove
The songs referenced are My Shot, from Hamilton, and Wicked Game, which has several remixes that could work here, but I was listening to the Yola Recoba version, personally. 
---------------------------------------------------------------
Leo
“Thanks for helping today, Tremz.” Leo leaned against the entry wall and watched Logan slip on his shoes.
“No problem,” Logan looked up at him, his eyes sparkling mischievously, “You needed someone big and strong to carry your boxes up the stairs. Who am I to leave a damsel in distress?” He stood and flexed his biceps.
Leo rolled his eyes and shoved Logan toward the door. He could hear Finn laughing behind him. “Get out.”
Logan looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Your wish is my command, princess.” Leo moved to shove him again, but Logan snatched up his bag and ducked out the door before he could reach him. “You love me!” he yelled as he jogged down the hall. Leo just shook his head at the older boy’s antics and turned the lock behind him before flopping down on the couch with a tired groan.
The three of them had just finished setting up his new room. In Finn’s apartment. Where he lived now. With Finn. He was still wrapping his head around it. It was crazy to think he didn’t have to pack up his stuff and move somewhere else again next week; that he had blankets that hadn’t been slept on by a hundred people before him. Finn was a godsend of a human being.
He was also a walking tornado of a human being, and Leo’s current state of exhaustion was a result of today being a shining example of both of those traits.
Since he’d been living in hotels all year Leo didn’t own any furniture of his own, which meant he had spent his Friday morning going from store to store buying what he needed. Finn had volunteered to drive, and Logan had tagged along too. The two of them had also very kindly volunteered to spend their afternoon helping him build everything. It was very, very nice of them, and Leo had been incredibly grateful for their company, and for their help… at least until they actually started putting things together. It had been funny at first, watching Logan and Finn jump headlong in to building things without taking the time to read the instructions. But the resultant failures had meant that Leo had to unbuild everything they touched, actually read the instructions, and then give them explicit directions on how to put it back together properly. Instead of the few hours Leo had expected to spend on it, the whole thing had taken them until the late evening, and now Leo was exhausted and ready to relax.
He heard Finn wander into the living room after him, and his smiling face appeared over the back of the couch above him. “What’s up, Marigold?”
Leo closed his eyes, trying not to roll them as he let out an exasperated chuckle. “Finn. That is STILL a terrible nickname.”
“It is not.”
“Yes it is. ‘What’s up marigold’ makes no sense. ‘What’s up buttercup’ works because it rhymes.” He opened his eyes back up to emphasize his point. “Marigold does not rhyme. At all.”
Finn just shrugged, pushing himself back up to walk around the couch. “You should have thought of that before you accepted it in the first place.”
“I didn’t accept it! I just gave up trying to argue with you two and- ugh. Never mind.”
“That’s what I thought.” Finn grinned. “Plus, I googled marigolds after that night because I didn’t actually know what they were, and the name suits you.”
“What?” Leo looked at him, curious. “Why?”
Finn’s expression faltered for a second as he lifted Leo’s feet to sit on the other end of the couch. He put them back down in his lap, making Leo’s heart skip a beat. When he spoke again, his voice was a little softer. “Your hair shines like them, in the sun. Golden.”
Leo had to work to keep his face neutral. That was… sweet. And unexpected. Finn was always doing things he didn’t expect.
Before he could think of a response, Finn’s cocky grin was back in place. “Also, calling you marigold makes you grumpy, which, like, never happens, so I’m never giving it up.”
Leo didn’t even try to hide it this time as he rolled his eyes affectionately, lifting his legs and giving Finn a gentle kick with his socked feet. “Whatever,” he laughed. “I’m going to shower. Have you seen that duffel bag Logan brought in? It has all my comfortable clothes.”
Finn just pointed wordlessly to entryway where he and Logan had dumped a few of Leo’s bags, abandoning unpacking them in favour of wreaking utter havoc trying to build his bedroom furniture.
Leo wandered over and grabbed the Lions duffel off the floor, pausing as he lifted it. He didn’t’ remember it being this empty… he unzipped it, suspicious, and sure enough, he found Logan’s training gear inside.
He groaned. “Damn it.”
Finn looked over to him. “What’s wrong?”
“Logan took my bag. This is his stuff.”
“Oh. Shit.” He looked from the bag up to Leo, and then popped up from the couch. “No worries, I have a solution!” he called, jogging toward his bedroom.
Leo, curious yet again, gently put Logan’s bag back down and started to follow. As he reached the corner, Finn popped back out of his room with a pile of clothes in his hands, almost crashing into him as he gave a little squeak.
“Ahh! Oh my god, why are you right there!? You scared the shit out of me. Learn to make noise when you walk.”
Leo chuckled at that, a memory of Logan saying that exact phrase to him the first night they watched Finn play running through his mind. “You and Logan are scarily similar sometimes, you know that?”
“What?” A confused look crossed Finn’s face.
Leo just smiled, and Finn shook his head.
“You know what, never mind. I don’t think I want to know. Here.” He passed Leo a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “You can sleep in these tonight and we’ll get your stuff from Logan tomorrow. They’re both pretty big on me so I’m hoping they’ll fit you properly.”
Leo, taken aback by the gesture, accepted the pile with a surprised but grateful smile. “Oh. Thank you, Finn. You didn’t have to do that.”
Finn shrugged, his wide brown eyes twinkling. “I know where you live. I’ll get them back.”
---
But as Leo pulled the shirt on after his shower, he decided that Finn was not, in fact, getting it back. It was soft. And it smelled like Finn. He breathed in deeply. It was silly, he knew, to cling to this little bit of him- to pretend it was Finn, instead of his clothes, that he was allowed to have. But he was doing it anyway. He could let himself have this little thing. He turned to look in the mirror and let out a surprised snort. “Of course.” He chuckled to himself.
He padded out to the living room, where Fin was still lying on the couch, a book in his hand.
“I thought you were joking about loving the Eagles.” He teased, his mouth quirking up on one side.
Finn sat up and looked over at him, a strange look crossing his face as he took in Leo’s appearance. It was gone before Leo could read into it, replaced with a dramatic showing of mock outrage.
“One does not joke about the Eagles, Leo!” He gestured down at the band logo stretched across Leo’s chest. “That logo is a badge of honour. Wear it with pride.”
Leo just shook his head, amused. “Aye, aye, captain.” He saluted Finn. “Thanks again. I’ll see you in the morning?”
Finn waved goodnight and Leo slipped back into his room, turning off the lights and smiling up at the city lights flickering across the ceiling. His ceiling, now. He chewed on his lip for a second, thinking, before getting back out of bed and walking softly to the living room.
Finn looked up at him when he entered, and whatever Leo had been about to say immediately caught in his throat. The warm lamplight was sending soft shadows across Finn’s features, making his freckles glow against the pale of his skin. He was curled into the corner of the couch, book in his hands and a blanket wrapped around him, and Leo wanted nothing more in that moment than to be there too, cuddled up beside this beautiful boy. His heart pulled in his chest.
He realized he was staring when Finn spoke up and broke the spell. “What’s up, Leo?” his smile was soft, gentle. “Do you need something? Can I get you anything?”
Leo straightened up at that, shaking his head. “No, no. I’m good. Thank you. And I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you, and I won’t keep you, but I just wanted to say thank you. For having me here. You didn’t have to offer up your space, and I appreciate it. It really means a lot.”
Finn closed his book and leaned forward; his expression sincere as he locked eyes with Leo. “I’m just glad you’re happy. You deserve to have a home. I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”
And when Leo went back to his room that night, he fell asleep quickly, breathing in the scent of Finn and, for the first time since he came to this city, finally feeling at home.
---
Finn
The next few months passed by quickly for Finn, everything blurring together in an exhausting but happy mess of work and play. He had thought it would be more of a learning curve, sharing his space with Leo after living alone for the past 4 years- and some days it was a bit weird, remembering that there was another person around and he couldn’t just play guitar at 2am, or work through melodies in the shower when Leo was sleeping- but he wouldn’t change it back for anything.
He’d always known he was insanely lucky to live in the apartment he did (his parents had bought it as an investment property when he first moved to Gryffindor- perks of their jobs in real estate). Very few college students had the privilege of even a single spare room, let alone two, and not worrying about needing roommates to pay rent had saved him from needing to share the space with strangers. But it had been lonely.
Now, when he was finished his long day on campus studying, or working on his music, he actually looked forward to going home- even if it was only to meet up with Leo and leave again. After that first celebration he had gone to with Leo and Logan, it had become routine for them to invite him to join them for any dinners or parties that weren’t team-exclusive. He went to every one that he could and had ended up making some pretty good friends in that crowd. In particular, him and Kasey’s girlfriend Natalie had struck up a fun friendship. She was also a musician, and the two of them had gotten together several times over the past few months just to play.
The boys had also asked him to let them know his gig schedule, and they had been there for every single show they weren’t working during. Finn liked having them there, knowing he would have their company as soon as he got off stage. They always had a drink waiting for him, and they usually found somewhere to go dance for the rest of the evening. Logan was always making fun of how Leo used to hate going out, but they danced together often now, and it was one of Finn’s favourite things.
Any nights they didn’t spend working, or with the team, or at one of Finns gigs, they usually spent together just the three of them, squeezed into a booth at Sid’s or lounging around the living room at Finn and Leo’s, playing video games and watching movies. Him and Leo had made the excellent discovery that Pixar movies almost always made Logan cry, though Logan denied it exceptionally violently every time they called him out. It was worth a pillow to the face to be able to tease him though.
Logan stayed over most of those evenings, in the spare room Finn had started thinking of as his. They’d built another bed for him and everything after Finn had woken up the first night he stayed over and seen how cramped he was on the couch. It wasn’t built for hockey players to sleep on and he didn’t like the idea of Logan being uncomfortable. He wanted everyone to feel at home in his place.
Some days it was just Finn and Leo at home, while Logan spent time with the Dumais family. Finn liked those days too. It was nice, hanging out with Leo one on one. The two of them often used the time to do chores, and he had been pleased to find out that they were much more enjoyable with Leo’s company. Grocery shopping with Leo was one of his favourites, riding the cart like a scooter up and down the aisles while Leo picked out everything they needed for dinner, and grabbing all the snacks that he knew Logan liked, so they could always be there when he came by. And he particularly enjoyed coming home and putting things away while Leo cooked, both of them singing along to the radio as the apartment filled with the smells of Leo’s southern recipes.
On quiet nights, he liked wandering into Leo’s room for company, the two of them laying next to each other on Leo’s giant bed and talking about books. One of the first nights he had done that, he had noticed his own t-shirt, the one he had lent Leo his first night, and that had curiously gone missing shortly after, hanging up on Leo’s closet door. Leo had been flustered, apologizing for snagging it from Finn’s clean laundry, and explaining that it was ‘just really comfortable’. Finn had tried very hard to hide the mini heart attack he was sure he was having at the idea of Leo choosing to wear his clothes, and he must have done an alright job of it because Leo continued to steal it often enough that it had just become another routine thing between them. Finn pretended to make fun of Leo for it, but he really liked it. He had taken to folding it and dropping it into Leo’s laundry basket when he wasn’t looking.
The addition of Leo’s warm presence, and of Logan’s fiery, mischievous energy, had made his big, cold apartment feel like home. There was always something happening, and it was never boring- sometimes to an extreme degree when Logan was around. Finn still had scars on his hand from Leo’s 19th birthday in February, when he had let Logan convince him that baking a cake wouldn’t be as difficult as it sounded (‘people do it all the time Finn, how hard can it possibly be?’). He had been wrong, as they discovered when he flipped what should have been a cooked cake upside down over the counter, and it turned out to be just a pan full of very hot batter that went all over Finn’s hands. It had stuck to him like very, very hot glue and the two of them had gone into full panic mode. Luckily, Leo had chosen that moment to come home from lunch with Remus, and he got everything under control. He had been exasperated, and quite concerned, but Finn liked to think he had appreciated their effort. Plus, Logan had felt guilty about it for weeks afterward, which Finn had initially felt bad about but then had started to take advantage of by (very dramatically) requesting him to do more and more ridiculous favours. Logan had stopped feeling guilty somewhere in between the request to build him an entire pillow fort (so he could heal in utmost comfort), and the request to do an interpretive dance to Ice, Ice, Baby (so he could feel like his burned hands were encased in ice).
When they were out of town for games, Finn missed having them around. Everything felt too… empty. But they were constantly in touch via their group chat, Leo sending videos of the cities they explored after games, and Logan sending pictures of Leo looking affectionately annoyed at Logan for dragging him out of the hotel to go and do said exploring. Those videos often included appearances from other Lions, usually making terrible 3 Musketeers jokes about them. On one memorable occasion, James had popped in to compare them to SpongeBob, Patrick, and Squidward. That one had positively delighted Finn, not least because Logan’s reaction to realizing he was the Squidward in that analogy had been gold. James had had to run.
Finn didn’t blame them for joking about it. He knew it was a bit strange, the way that they had become so inseparable, so fast. But he didn’t mind. When he looked at them in those videos—the wild in Logan’s eyes, the calm in Leo’s— he was reminded of how they pulled out the best of both those sides of his own personality. He never felt more like himself than he did with them. *
---
 Logan
One evening at the end of April, Logan sat sandwiched between Leo and Finn on their living room couch, a steering wheel in his hands. He was deeply focused on steering his car around a particularly dastardly curve when Finn jumped up, knocking Logan’s elbow and sending his character careening off a cliff as he screeched at the TV. “Cheating!! Leo! You’re cheating! Logan! He’s cheating!”
Logan, disgruntled now as he watched himself drop down to last place, just glared up at him. “You knocked me off a cliff. Don’t look at me for sympathy right now.”
Leo just continued playing calmly. “It’s not cheating Finn. I threw a banana at you. If you don’t want to get hit with bananas, don’t drive so close to me.”
“This is insane. Nobody is supposed to be this good at Mario Kart. It’s MARIO KART!” Finn flopped dramatically back down into his spot, groaning. “How have you won every single race?”
“I’m a man of many talents, Finn.”
“This is bullshit.”
Logan snorted, dropping his controller as he crossed the finish line in last place for the 4th time that night. “Says the guy who wins every single round of Halo.”
“Well, if you would stop and think before just picking the biggest bombs and sending your army running headfirst into every battle, maybe you too could win a strategy game.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“You are weirdly good at Halo, Finn.” Leo tossed out. “It’s kind of creepy watching the wheels turn in your head while you play.”
Logan watched, amused, as Finn gasped and glared at Leo in mock offense. “Well then. When the aliens finally invade here and you guys need a team leader to get you through the hordes and into a safe haven, you can find your own general. I’ll be over there helping people who DON’T call me creepy.”
It was Logan’s turn to be offended. “Hey! I didn’t call you creepy.”
Finn considered him for a moment. “Hmm. That’s true.”
He wrapped an arm around Logan’s neck and stuck his tongue out at Leo. “I’ll be over here keeping LOGAN alive, while you get your brains eaten.”
Logan tried to fight back the blush he could feel creeping up his cheeks as Finn’s arm pulled him in. Finn, Logan had discovered, was a very affectionate person, and while his comfort in sharing his personal space had grown on Logan and Leo as well—they were constantly in contact as they shoved together onto the couch—it  still made Logan’s pulse pick up every time he felt them close to him.
Leo snorted out a laugh at Finn’s threat as he put down his controller. “I’ll take my chances.” he replied as he stood and stretched, looking out the window at the setting sun. “It’s getting late. Anybody hungry?”
Logan’s stomach actually grumbled out loud at the mention of food.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Leo laughed as he headed out of the living room.
Logan, somewhat reluctantly, pulled himself out of Finn’s hold and followed Leo into the kitchen, plunking himself down on one of the island barstools as Leo started pulling things out of the fridge. Finn disappeared into his room and came back to sit next to Logan a few seconds later, a book in his hand.
“You want to read?” He looked at Logan questioningly.
Logan just nodded at him as he spun around on his stool, slowly relaxing into his seat as the sound of Finn’s voice took over the kitchen, mingling with the sounds of Leo quietly chopping vegetables at the counter next to them.
A few weeks ago, when Leo and Finn were trying to pull him into an argument about book to movie adaptations, Logan had accidentally let it slip that he had never read The Hobbit. The two of them had been borderline offended, which Logan found hilarious, but it had then led to them asking him about other books, and Logan had been forced to admit that not only had he never read The Hobbit, but he had never read any book for fun.
It wasn’t something he liked to talk about, because he always worried it would make him look stupid, but he hated reading. Having to keep his focus on the page, keeping his hands still as they held the book… he just couldn’t handle it. When Leo and Finn had picked up on the fact that it was a sensitive topic, they had dropped it without asking him any more questions, which he had been grateful for. But the two of them still wanted to show him that stories could be fun outside of movie form, and when it became clear that there was no way in hell Logan was picking up a book himself, Finn had come up with a compromise: he would read a book to him. Logan hadn’t been convinced, but he appreciated the thought and figured he could just tune him out if he got bored, so he agreed.
So Finn had read the first chapter of The Hobbit to him and Leo while Leo cooked that night, and, to his surprise, Logan had found himself completely absorbed. It was kind of like listening to a podcast, but with Finn’s intoxicating voice playing all the parts.
It had become a routine after that—Finn reading to them as Leo cooked, and Leo reading to Finn and Logan as they cleaned up after. They always waited for him to read the next part, and it was one of his favourite parts of being at their apartment now. The combination of the sound of Finn’s voice and the smell of Leo’s cooking, made him feel safe.
That evening, Logan was the first to finish eating, and he leaned his chair back away from the table with a satisfied sigh, reaching over to ruffle Leo’s hair from where he was sitting next to him. “Fuck, Knutty, that was amazing. As always.”
Leo smiled back at him, blonde curls now falling over his eyes in a way that was absolutely not adorable. “Thanks, Tremz. I’m glad you guys liked it.”
Finn made a noise at that. “Liked it? Leo, I have genuinely never eaten better in my entire life than I have since you moved in here.”
Well. That provided Logan an excellent segue into his mission for the evening. He let his chair fall back down and folded his hands on the table in front of him. “If that is true, Finn, then I think that you should do something to pay him back.”
Finn looked up from his plate with a mouth full of pasta, brown eyes narrowing suspiciously as he looked between Logan and an amused looking Leo, who had immediately caught on to what Logan was doing. “Oh?”
“Yes. We have a game next Friday, and you’re invited to come. I think that should suffice as payment.”
“Oohh.” Finn plastered on a very fake smile. “That sounds very… interesting. Let me check my schedule and see what I have going on.”
Logan rolled his eyes at Finn’s feigned interest. He had turned down their offers to come to games repeatedly since they had met.  
“We have your schedule, idiote. We know you don’t have a show OR an exam. And—” Logan decided to move to his next tactic: guilt, “—you have to come this time. It’s a deciding game for the play-offs. If we lose, you won’t be able to watch us play again until next season.”
“I see.” Finn didn’t look convinced.
“Finn!” Logan tossed his balled-up napkin at him, making him laugh. “You are possibly the only person in this city who would turn down offers to come watch NHL games for free. From the box! MULTIPLE TIMES!”
“I cannot possibly be the only person in this entire city who doesn’t follow hockey.”
When neither Leo nor Logan bothered to respond to that, just continuing to look at him, Finn’s grin fell. He looked uncertain now, and his face turned serious as he looked each of them in the eye. “But… you guys know I support you, right? I follow all your scores and your… game… time, point, things, or whatever online. I even bought a hoodie!”
That was true and it had almost killed Logan the first time he had seen Finn in Lion’s colours. It still made his heart beat faster every time he thought of it. Which wasn’t helping him at the present moment.
Finn sighed. “I just think it’s a waste of a ticket for me to go when I have no idea what is happening. I don’t want to embarrass you guys”
Leo interjected then, pointing his fork at Finn. “First of all, you are never embarrassing. Well, usually not – “
“Fair.” Finn admitted.
Leo shot him a look. “—and not about this, for sure. And second, it’s not a waste of a ticket. We all get to invite our family and friends and stuff this game, and neither Logan’s family nor mine are able to make it. And all of our other friends are either on the team or related to them. So, if you don’t use the ticket, nobody will. Plus,” he set his fork down, his voice gentle, “we want you to come.”
Finn’s face softened, and Logan decided now was time to pull out his Hail Mary. “Also,” he waited until Finn looked over to him, “Natalie’s going to be there. And she already asked us if you were going to come this time.”
He bit back a triumphant smirk as Finn perked up at that. He knew they had him now. Finn and Natalie had hit it off really well the moment they met. So well in fact, that he had almost been jealous. But he wasn’t jealous. Because he had nothing to be jealous of. Finn was just a friend. A friend who was currently living rent-free in his mind wearing that goddamn Lions hoodie, but a friend nonetheless.
Finn pushed his empty plate to the middle of the table. “Well.” His eyes sparkled as he folded his arms and looked between them. “You should have led with that.”
---
Finn
One week later, Finn stood against the glass in the team box, cursing himself for agreeing to come to this game. He had never been more stressed in his life, every muscle in his body tense as he watched the puck bounce from player to player in front of Leo’s net. He had a brand-new respect for Leo’s unflappable demeanour. There was no way he could handle being the last stop between the other team and a goal- he was almost having a nervous breakdown just watching. But Leo was in his element: calm, controlled, moving fluidly around his net and mirroring the puck effortlessly. Finn had never seen someone so focused, so intent. When the other team finally took their shot and Leo snatched it out of the air, Finn let out a relieved breath. His heart was going a million miles a minute, just like it had been for the last hour that the game had been tied 1-1. “Oh my god,” he murmured, dropping his face into his hands. “This is so stressful. How do you guys watch this all the time?”
Natalie laughed next to him. “It can be pretty crazy.”
“You look perfectly relaxed.” Finn replied grumpily. It was true. She was much calmer than he was.
“I’m not as calm on the inside. But I have faith in these guys. I know they can win this.” She paused for a second. “It also helps that Kase is benched for this game with his leg. I’m a wreck when he’s in net during important games. Thank God for Leo Knut.”
“Thank God for Leo Knut?” Finn muttered reproachfully in response. His attention was pulled back to the ice as the puck was dropped again, still in their end. “Thank God for Leo Knut my ass, Leo Knut is the reason I might be seeing God soon. I’m going to have a fucking heart attACK! AH!” He shrieked the end of his sentence as one of the Ravenclaw players crashed into Leo, knocking him backwards into a goal post in a way that looked dangerous. His stomach dropped as Leo went down. He shot a panicked look at Natalie. “What the fuck! That can’t be allowed! Is that allowed?!?” He didn’t wait for an answer before looking up at the giant screens above the ice, currently zoomed in on Leo’s determinedly blank face as he slowly pulled his knees back underneath him. He was definitely going to give him a heart attack.
“No.” Natalie looked unhappy. “No, it’s not allowed. But he’s ok, Finn.”
He’s ok. Finn let out a shaky breath. He looked back down to the ice and was watching Leo stand up and reach for a water bottle when, all of a sudden, the crowd started to yell. Confused, he looked back up at the screens. Instead of Leo, there was now a close-up view of Logan, currently with one fist wrapped around the jersey of the player who had slammed into Leo, the other throwing punches.
Finn’s jaw dropped, his heart jumping up to meet it. Logan’s face was fierce. Angry. That energy that always seemed to be coiled around him, simmering just below the surface, was out in full force. His restraints were gone, and holy shit it was beautiful. Seeing those impossibly green eyes flashing dark with passion… it was lighting something on fire inside of Finn.
The other player was half a foot taller than Logan, but Lo had him down on the ice in seconds, spitting angry words in his face as the referees pulled him away. Finn watched Logan skate to the penalty box, swallowing hard as he took in the way his chest was heaving under his jersey. Holy. Fuck.
He felt heat creeping up his neck, and knew his face was going to turn bright red and give him away if he didn’t distract himself immediately. So he forced his attention back down to where the rest of the team was checking on Leo.
Leo. Logan had unleashed in defense of Leo.
Finn felt the now-familiar twist in his chest that sometimes accompanied seeing the two of them together. The feeling that there was something more between them than they were willing to admit.
Thankfully, Natalie mistook the look on his face for concern, and put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “It’s fine Finn, Logan fights all the time. He’s not hurt, he’ll be back on the ice in time to play the last three minutes. And Leo’s already ready to keep playing”
Finn just groaned and dropped his face into his hands. “I am never watching another hockey game again.”
It was supposed to be a joke, but five minutes later Finn watched Logan jump out of the penalty box and take off across the ice, dancing between the other players as he stole the puck and shot toward the net with a searing purpose. And when the goal alarm went off and the entire arena jumped to their feet to celebrate- when Logan was tackled by his teammates, and Leo was skating celebratory circles around his net, and Finn could see the smiles radiating off both of them from where he stood- Finn realized that if he ever wanted to be able to keep his friendships with these boys, it had to be true. Because if he ever watched them play another hockey game again, he would fall in love.
---
“O’Hara, think fast!”
Finn barely had time to register the beer being thrown his way before Leo reached out and snatched it out of the air in front of his chest. “Bliz, how many times do we have to tell you to not throw solid objects at people. Not everybody has your reflexes.”
But Kasey wasn’t listening, already turned around to head back into the living room of Sirius’ house, where they had all convened to celebrate their win. Finn had been grateful for the location- he didn’t think he could handle watching Leo and Logan getting hit on at a club all night tonight. He was still on edge.
Leo rolled his eyes at Kasey’s retreating back and handed the drink to Finn. “I’d wait a second to open that. Sorry, he does this all the time. We’ve had more than one black eye on the team from a drunken Kasey drink bomb.”
Finn chuckled. “No worries. Thanks for the save.”
Leo brightened adorably. “It’s my job!”
“And you are absolutely INCREDIBLE at it my friend!” A pair of arms wrapped around Leo’s neck from behind and a slightly buzzed and very excited James appeared over his shoulder. “MVP of the game, my man! You killed it! We’re going to the play-offs, baby!”
He whooped as he ruffled Leo’s golden hair, still slightly damp from his post-game shower. Leo’s cheeks flushed a deep red as he accepted James’ fist bump. “I just played. Thank you though.”
“And he’s humble too! How are you still single dude? Someone should have scooped you up ages ago.”
Leo’s cheeks somehow turned even deeper red as he shot a quick look up at Finn, and Finn heard Lily’s amused voice as she slid in from behind them, wrapping an arm around James’ waist and pulling him off of Leo. “Leave the poor guy alone James. He just wants to celebrate in peace.”
Leo smiled gratefully at Lily, looking relieved when Kasey and Natalie returned to the kitchen, Talker in tow. Leo jumped into their conversation as the group of them settled in around the room, talking and laughing above the music playing from the built-in speakers. Finn held back for a moment, taking the opportunity to scan the living room from where him and Leo were leaning against the kitchen island. He caught a glimpse of familiar dark curls under a snapback, and Logan’s eyes met his from across the room. Logan grinned, excusing himself from a conversation with Remus and heading towards them.
“Hey,” Logan’s breath was warm on Finn’s cheek as he leaned in to be heard over the voices in the room. “How did you like the game?”
Finn fought to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. He was still reeling from his decidedly unwelcome epiphany earlier that evening, and it was going to be a long night if he couldn’t get a handle on himself soon. He cleared his throat, looking straight ahead instead of turning to meet Logan’s gaze. “It was the most stressful few hours of my entire life. I’m never doing it again.” He winced at the way his voice cracked. Traitorous voice box. “And for the record, you are NOT a ‘perfectly reasonable player’.”
Logan tilted his head back and laughed openly at that. Finn let himself look then. Despite everything, it was nice to see him so relaxed and happy.
“Well, I’m glad you at least came to this one. Even if you judge me.”
He leaned back next to Finn, shoulders brushing, and Finn watched as he scanned the room. A moment later, a glint appeared in shorter boy’s eye, his smile turning mischievous. Finn turned to follow his gaze, looking for what had prompted the change. He caught sight of James, still in his game jersey, and Lily, laughingly trying her best to get him to take it off.
He heard Logan call out to them. “Hey Pots! Did you hear your jerseys are only the third most popular on the Lion’s shop now?”
James froze, turning to them with his eyes wide. “What?”
He rounded on Logan. “Who told you that? Who beat me?” His expression turned to outrage. “Who could possibly have beaten me?!”
Finn held back a laugh at James reaction, letting out a loud cough instead. One that sounded very suspiciously like the word ‘bullshit’. He heard Leo do the exact same beside him and turned to catch his eye with a grin and a high-five. The two of them had made a game over the past few months of seeing who could catch Logan the fastest when he started his game of poking the bear- something that was hilarious to them and endlessly irritating to Logan.
Right on cue, Logan let out an exasperated noise. “Guys! You are no fun! Stop doing that!”
James’ head twisted back and forth between Logan and Finn as he pieced it together. “Wait… what??” He gasped at Logan, looking betrayed. “Tremz! Did you make that up? How could you! You almost gave me a heart attack on this glorious evening!”
Logan shot a mock glare at Leo and Finn, but his face cracked into a grin when he turned back to James. “You should have seen your face.”
James looked like he was about to respond, but at just that moment, a familiar beat started to play over the speakers. Someone in the living room cheered and turned up the volume, and James whooped, throwing his hands in the air. Finn smirked as he followed suit, pushing away from the counter to join him in the middle of the room.
---
Logan
Logan frowned when Finn stepped away from him- he liked feeling his warmth against his side. He watched as Finn moved after James, turning to look back at Logan and grinning as he sang along to the lyrics of the song now playing loudly through the house. Logan loved Finn’s singing voice. He smiled back and was about to go join him when something weird caught his attention, making him do a double take.
It wasn’t unusual for Finn to jump into the middle of a room to give a performance of a song. He did it all the time. At home, at the club, at parties. It was quintessential Finn behaviour.
But now, the entire rest of the room was joining him. Every single one of his friends had abandoned their conversations to chant along with the opening lyrics of this song Logan had never heard before. Logan’s brow furrowed in confusion as he spun around to look behind him. The living room was the same, everyone starting to move away from the walls and stand from the couches. Only Leo had stayed where he was, a few feet away from Logan.
“What the hell?” He muttered.
He turned back around to question Finn, only to find him no longer looking his way. Instead, he was now face to face with Talker in the middle of the room, the two of them rapping dramatically to one another. Logan lifted an eyebrow, letting out a short, surprised laugh as he watched the two of them.
             “I’ma get a scholarship to King’s College,
             I probably shouldn’t brag,
But dag, I amaze and astonish”
The rest of the room was still singing along. It was beyond weird. “What. The fuck. Is happening?” Logan asked nobody in particular.  
The rhythm of the song slowed a bit, and Finn turned back toward Leo and Logan, sliding smoothly over in front of them. His brown eyes sparkled as his gaze locked with Logan’s, singing directly to him.
             “I’m a diamond in the rough, a shiny piece of coal
             Tryin’ to reach my goal, my power of speech, unimpeachable”
Logan leaned closer to Leo, his only ally in this insanity, but Finn had pointed dramatically to the younger boy and Leo laughed, stepping away from the counter and picking up the lyrics from the next line, pointing at himself as he sang:
             “Only nineteen but my mind is older
             These New York City streets get colder, I shoulder
             Every burden, every disadvantage I have learned to manage…”
Logan shot a surprised glare at Leo. Traitor. And now Finn was singing along again, and both of them were pointing at him, waiting for him to pick up the next line but Logan truly, truly had no idea what this was.
Finn looked at him with mock outrage when he realized Logan wasn’t faking his ignorance, straightening his back as he lifted his hands in a very ‘what the heck?’ sort of gesture.
Logan started to roll his eyes, but then all of a sudden, the beat changed again, and Finn’s hands were by his head and he was walking backward, winding his hips in a way that Logan had never seen him move before. A way that should be illegal.
His eyes were still locked on Logan’s, but where they had been filled with humour a moment ago, now they were burning with something intense that was sending Logan into a complete tailspin.
             “I am the AL-EX-AN-D-ER, we are, meant to be.”
His emotions were already running high after their win, and now Finn was standing in front of him, moving like that, looking at him like that. He heard himself let out a shaky breath and snapped his jaw shut, swallowing hard and jerking his eyes away from Finn, desperate for something else to focus on. His gaze landed on Leo, right next to him, which was not better.
Leo. He could see his toned chest through the fitted t-shirt he was wearing, and he wanted to reach out and touch. Fuck.
He could feel all the walls he had built up over the past four months crumbling down around him, and he started to panic. He was supposed to be getting over his feelings for Leo. Not growing them. Not adding Finn into the mix.
His breathing sped up. How was he this gone, for both of them? Was that even possible??
Pull it together Tremblay. He tried to talk himself down. Leo was his teammate. They were both his friends- friends like he had never had before. Those walls were there for a good fucking reason. He didn’t want to risk them.
He took a deep breath in through his nose, straightening his spine and pushing his shoulders back. He could do this. He looked back up and watched as Finn crooked a finger at him, calling him in to dance with them. The same way they always did when they were out together. His face was open and happy again. He just looked like normal Finn now. This was familiar. He could do this. The song kept playing.
             “Hey yo I’m just like my country
             I’m young, scrappy and hungry
             And I’m not throwing away my, shot!”
He took one step closer, and… nope. It would appear he could not, in fact, do this. He couldn’t handle familiar right now. He was buzzed, and high on adrenaline from the game, and this song was in his bones and if he was going to get himself out of this spiral, he needed to be away from the boys that were causing it.
He shook his head at Finn and forced a tight smile, watching him shrug his acceptance and turn to James instead. Logan turned to head over to where Sirius was stood in the corner of the living room, the only other person who looked as bewildered as he was by the scene. He had barely taken a step before a long arm wrapped around his shoulders from behind, pulling in him close to the strong chest he was trying to run away from. He closed his eyes, feeling his body tense as Leo’s low voice sounded in his ear, his skin warm against Logan’s own. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as Leo sang, off-key as usual, in some sort of horrible French accent.
             “I dream of life without a monarchy
             The unrest in France will lead to ‘onarchy?
             Onarchy? How you say, how you, oh, anarchy?
             When I fight I make the other side panicky with my, shot!”
It was hilarious, but feeling Leo this close to him right now, in this moment, was overload. It took everything he had to pull out of Leo’s grasp, grabbing his wrist and spinning underneath him. He stood on his tiptoes to let Leo spin too, and then gently shoved him back toward Finn. He knew Leo would assume he was following, so he turned back to the living room and slid into place next to Sirius.
He stood there, watching Nado and Kuny—how the hell did even Kuny know this song??—singing drunkenly on top of the couch, and tried to will his heart into submission.
After a few moments, Sirius’ voice sounded next to him. “Do you have any idea what this is?”
Logan shook his head, glancing over. “Non. But apparently we should be looking into it.”
Sirius just nodded, looking at him. Logan liked this about Sirius. He was quiet, and he didn’t mind if people were quiet around him. He always seemed to know when Logan needed a minute. He guessed that’s what made him a good captain. Logan felt calmer just being beside him. The two of them stood together in silence for a few minutes, until the whole house broke out into a chorus of ‘whoa’’s, and Sirius glanced over at him again. “You ok?”
“I’ll be better once this fucking song ends. How long is this thing?”
Sirius laughed at that, agreeing, and Logan felt his confidence coming back. He felt safer there, in the corner, watching Finn and Leo from afar. The distance had at least allowed his heart to stop pinging around his chest like a goddamn pinball machine. He was feeling, if not completely back in control, at least much more so than before.
“I’m good, Cap.” He meant it.
Sirius’ eyes were on his. “Ok. You know I’m here though, if you need me.”
“I know.” He shot Sirius a grateful smile. “Thanks, Sirius. Really.”
Sirius nodded, turning away as the song finally ended. Someone switched over to a dance playlist, and the living room turned into a de facto dance floor. Logan and Sirius stayed where they were for another song, until everyone else seemed to be either dancing, or involved in a game of what looked like Spoons at the dining room table. Logan drained the last of his rum and coke and turned to Sirius as he pushed off the wall toward the now empty kitchen. “I’m going to get another drink. You want anything?”
“No thanks. I’m good.” Sirius responded quietly, his expression soft. Logan followed his gaze over to where Loops was dancing with Lily and smiled. He clapped Sirius on the shoulder. “Ok, Cap. Have fun.”
---
A few shots and nearly an hour later, Logan was feeling as close to normal as he figured he would be able to pull off that night, teaching the Hoedown Throwdown choreography to a very enthusiastic Leo and Finn as someone’s country playlist blasted through the house. The team’s excitement for their freshly earned play-off spot had rubbed off on him again over the past hour, and he was enjoying himself, even if he was still a bit on edge.
It only took a few songs for them to ace the dance, and after they killed it to some song about chicken and tractors that Finn had sang every single word to, there was a break in the music while Nat and Talker argued over who got to choose next. They took the opportunity to their breath.
“Well, since we’re waiting anyway, I’m going to go grab another drink.” Finn swiped a hand through his sweat-tousled hair and looked between Logan and Leo. “Do you want anything?”
Leo shook his head, eyes bright against his dance-flushed cheeks. “No thanks. I think I’m done drinking for the night. We have a team meeting early tomorrow I don’t want to be hungover for.”
Logan still had half a drink in his hand, so Finn took off to the kitchen and left the two of them to  discuss who they could drag into their next dance, which Finn had decided for reasons Logan didn’t understand, to try and learn as a square instead of a triangle.
A new song finally started to play as they scanned the room, and as the beat came across the speakers, Logan recognized it with a frustrated groan.
Wicked Games. One of the few songs that he used to have multiple versions of on his playlist. A song that he had had to take off said playlist, because it got him in his head about Finn and Leo.
Of course someone would put this song on right when he had gotten his shit back together. Of fucking course.
He took a long drink from his glass and looked up at Leo, who was still looking around the room for participants. He watched as the colour-changing living room lighting lit up the taller boy’s face: blue, then green, then orange.
“The world was on fire, and no one could save me but you”
Leo glanced over at him, and then did a double take, turning to fully face him. He scanned Logan’s face, eyebrows furrowing as concern flashed through his warm blue eyes. Logan sighed through his nose. Fucking Knutty. He always knew.
“And I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you”
When Logan didn’t make a move to explain anything, Leo just nodded and took a step back.
“You know what?” he started. “Let’s just do it as three. Finn’ll get over it. I don’t want to dance with anyone else right now.”
Logan knew Leo was only saying it for his sake. But he couldn’t be bothered to try and pretend he was down for an audience right now, so he just nodded and stepped into what would be his place in the triangle when Finn came back. Leo turned to assess the space around them, and Logan let himself watch again. He never got sick of looking at Leo. Kind, thoughtful, annoyingly perceptive, beautiful Leo. The lyrics of the song repeated, over and over.
             “No I, don’t wanna fall in love, with you.”
“I think we’re going to need more room. Or someone’s going to get hurt.” Leo mused as he looked at the floor around them, trying to work out the logistics of the coordinated drunk jumping that was going to happen. One of his curls fell over his eyes. Logan resisted the urge to reach up and move it away.
             “What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way
What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you”
Logan’s chest twisted and he pulled his gaze away. Fuck this song. He was going to kill Talkie for this. He could feel himself taking a nose-dive back to where he had been earlier that evening. Why couldn’t he shake these feelings tonight? He could always shake them. He was a master at shaking off feelings. This was ridiculous.
He decided to look for something they could push out of the way for more space, to give himself something to focus on. That was a task he could do.
But before he could move, a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind, the weight of a full-grown hockey player landing on his back and making him stumble forward. Pots’ voice was teasing in his ear. “Wicked Game is right, hey Tremzy??”
Logan’s breath caught in his throat as he froze in place, half bent over trying to regain his balance. Had Pots noticed? Was he being obvious?
“W-what?” he choked out.
James pulled him up and spun around him until they were face to face, his grin lopsided and his eyes a little glazed from the drinks he had clearly been celebrating with. “Wicked Game! Because you played a wicked game! Get it!? You got us the game winner, Tremz.” He looked wobbly on his feet, smiling dreamily. “You got us to the playoffs.”
Relief flooded Logan’s system. He hadn’t noticed. Nobody noticed. It was fine.
It didn’t feel fine.
“Oh. Ya, I guess.” He forced a little laugh.
“Come, my baby Canadian.” James bowed toward him, extending a hand. “I owe you this dance for getting me one step closer to my baby bathing in the cup.”
“Shut up, Pots.” Logan turned as an annoyed voice sounded behind them. Sirius, the inventor of superstition himself, walked by and smacked James gently upside the head. “Knock on wood. Now.”
“Ow,” James grumbled, rubbing his head and knocking on the doorframe he watched Sirius walk through, “how does he do that? It’s like he has a seventh sense for bad luck.”
Logan prayed James would follow Sirius away. But instead he just grinned and shoved Logan toward the center of the dance floor.
Logan did not want to be there anymore. James had freaked him out, and the stupid song was still playing. For the second time that night he wished he knew where the fucking skip button was located in this ridiculously oversized house.
Logan grabbed James’ arm and pulled him to a stop, leaning into him to prevent him going further. He turned on his best fake smile. “Hey Pots. I know I got the goal, but do you know who you really owe this dance to?”
James looked at him suspiciously. “Who?”
“Leo. We wouldn’t have won without his unreal performance tonight. You should get him first.”
James gasped. “You are right, Tremblay. Ok. I will get him first. But I will be back for you! Don’t move!”
Logan watched James wobble backward across the living room, shooting finger guns back at Logan until he crashed into a very amused-looking Leo.
When Logan figured the two of them were engaged enough to not notice him leaving, he slipped off in search of a quiet place to hang out for a while. He found a dark hallway off the end of the dining room and slid down to sit on the hardwood floor. His hands were shaking again as he pulled out his phone and opened the group chat he had with his sisters.  
He missed his sisters. He hadn’t told them about his feelings for either of the boys—for any boy, really—but he knew that if he messaged them, they would talk him down without prying. And that was what he wanted right now. He shot off a simple, ‘you guys awake?’ message, and waited for the reply.
---
Leo
Leo was wandering around the main floor of Sirius’ house, looking for Logan. He was worried about him. Logan had been on edge all night, keeping his distance and forcing smiles that didn’t reach his eyes. Leo could tell he was trying to hide something, and after catching the way he had looked at Finn in the kitchen earlier, it wasn’t hard to guess what that something was.
He had been watching Logan and Finn dance around each other, figuratively and literally, for months now. It was hard, watching these boys—these boys that made him ache with how each of them had burrowed their way into his soul—watch each other. It made him feel like he was drowning.
He had told himself when he came to Gryffindor that he was here for hockey, that he wasn’t going to get involved with anyone. Get attached to anyone. But here he was, the world’s biggest idiot, falling head over heels for not one, but two of the literal worst possible people to fall for. His home roommate and his travel roommate. Both, to the best of his knowledge, very closeted. Both very interested in someone else. Both very interested in each other. It was a bit of a disaster.
But disaster or not, Leo wasn’t going to let Logan feel like he was alone tonight. He knew firsthand how much support from the people who love you mattered, even if you weren’t ready to talk about it yet.
He poked his head into the kitchen and found Finn, looking deep in conversation with Natalie, but Logan wasn’t with him. He was a bit concerned about Finn, too. He also seemed a bit off this evening, and he never had come back from his last drink break. But Finn was safe with Natalie for now, so Logan was his priority for the moment.
He checked a few more rooms before he caught a glimpse of Logan’s ever-present snapback out of the corner of his eye. He was sitting on the floor in the dark end of an empty hallway, the glow from his phone screen lighting up his face.
Leo moved cautiously toward him, and when he didn’t look up, slid to the floor to sit next to him.
“Hey.” He offered softly.
Logan looked up at him with a small, fleeting smile, his usually bright green eyes looking tired. “Hey.”
Leo scanned his face, trying to decide whether Logan wanted to talk. “What are you up to?”
“Just texting my sisters.”
Leo nodded, understanding, and looked away, giving Logan the chance to go back to his phone if he wanted to. Logan looked back down at the screen and typed out a final message before clicking the screen off and shoving it back in his pocket.
They sat quietly next to each other for a few minutes, just listening to the music. After a while, Logan broke the silence.
“It’s crazy that we’re heading to the playoffs.” He said quietly.
That made Leo smile a bit. He looked back over at Logan. “You played incredible tonight.” He said sincerely. “All season, really. I think we earned it.”
Logan’s lips quirked up a bit at the compliment. “Thanks, Nutty. We really did.”
They fell back into their comfortable silence, sitting shoulder to shoulder and watching what they could see of the dining room down the hall. In the lights of the party, Pots and Sirius were teasing Remus about something they couldn’t hear. Remus blushed a deep red and Sirius laughed as he pulled him in for a kiss.
“We’re really lucky.” Leo said, hoping that Logan knew he wasn’t just talking about the game anymore. When Logan didn’t respond, he looked over to see him pulling at the seams of his jeans, looking like he might be on the verge of tears. The sight pulled at Leo’s chest. He wanted to take Logan’s face in his hands and wipe away that look forever.
But he knew that wasn’t what Logan wanted. So instead he stood, holding out a hand to the shorter boy. He would be here for him in whatever way Logan needed. “You wanna get another drink? Or are you ready to head out?”
Logan looked up at him with reddened eyes, and Leo’s heart felt like it was breaking with every beat. And when Logan put his hand in his and the sparks flooded over his whole body, Leo closed his eyes and willed them away.
---
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Text
Jingle Bell Rock - Katsuki Bakugou x Reader
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DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, THEY BELONG TO KOHEI HORIKOSHI
DAY THIRTEEN OF 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS - 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST - MAIN MASTERLIST
“Oh, come one Katsuki, it’ll be fun!”
“No.”
“Please?”
“Absolutely not - it’s stupid.” That was where your conversation had hit a cycle. Your task entrusted to you by Jirou and Kaminari had definitely been the most difficult. Yeah, they had to lug all of Jirou’s instruments into the center of the room and set everything up, but you had to be the one to try and convince Katsuki to play the drums for a mini Christmas concert for the rest of your classmates.
“I think it’ll be fun.” You say, your hands raising to rest on your hips as you look at him laying on his bed, reading a book. He merely peers up at you from over the top of it and looks back to the words on the page.
“Why are you acting like you’re gonna be losing sleep over me not playing with you guys? It’s really not that exciting.” He says simply, flipping the page. You sigh and rub your temple. Reasoning with your boyfriend isn’t an easy task but you usually manage to pull through. This time, however, was proving to be strenuous.
“Because it’s a nice thing to do for the rest of our classmates.” You say, moving one of your hands to rest on his kneecap. Katsuki lets a bark of laughter out of his mouth and scoffs.
“Yeah, babe, you’re gonna need a much better reason than that.” You sigh and look at the floor, trying to think of something that would convince him to play. It didn’t have to be 100% accurate in truth, just something that would ensure his commitment. You smirk as a lightbulb went off in your head. You began to gather your things which the blonde-haired boy seemed to take note of since he finally sets down his book. “Where are you going now?” He asks, eyebrows raised.
“Well, since you won’t play, I thought that maybe Midoriya would lend a hand. He’s always up for stuff like that, ya know?” You say, biting your lip to keep from laughing, knowing that you’ve won. 
“OI! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE! I’LL BE DAMNED IF DEKU TAKES MY SPOT!”
Returning back to the common room with Katsuki, you earned several impressed looks from your classmates that were also involved in the band.
“Great, we’ve got Bakugou! Okay, Kaminari’s got his and Tokoyami’s electric guitars all hooked up and ready to go, the keyboard is plugged in, and Y/N, both of our mics are all set up.” Jirou says, crossing off items on her list with a pencil. You give her a thumbs up and walk over to your mic stand, adjusting the height. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Katsuki seated at the drum set, spinning his drumsticks between his fingers. You let a soft giggle flood from out of your mouth as you finally find the right height.
“All right gang, should we do a sound check?” Kaminari asks, his guitar pick in hand. You look around the group and see that they’re all ready to go.
“Let’s go for it!” Jirou says, adjusting her guitar strap. Like always, Katsuki the group with three clicks of his drumsticks and then you're off with a simple Christmas song, All I want For Christmas. You all sounded great, the sound of the instruments blending together wonderfully. When you and Jirou sang together, you had to admit, it was a pretty pleasing sound. Your voice and hers played off each other in harmonies and joined when belting out the lyrics, accompanying the instruments perfectly. You only played through half the song to make sure that everything was working well so you could save up the rest of your energy for the little concert you would be performing for your classmates.
“Nice job guys!” You say, tossing everyone a bottle of water. Thank you’s chorus from the group before you all took a swing and relaxed, chatting with one another.
“I think we have a good setlist for tonight,” Momo says, a warm smile etched across her face.
“Oh, I didn’t see it!” You say. Jirou hands you a slip of paper with all of the songs you would be playing tonight on it. Jingle Bells, Last Christmas, White Christmas, Underneath the Tree, Like It’s Christmas, All I want for Christmas, and finally, Jingle Bell Rock.
“The last one’s gonna be a hit,” you say grinning, “Katsuki will have fun with it.” You hand the paper to your boyfriend’s outstretched hand. He read over them and you could tell when he got to the end when you saw a light smile come across his face. However, as quickly as it was there it vanished as he put his usual annoyed expression back on.
“Yeah, whatever.” He says, handing the list back to you. His hands linger on yours a little longer than necessary, but the rest of your friends don’t notice. “Y/N, I need to talk to you for a second.” Katsuki grabs onto your wrist and drags you out of the room into an empty hallway.
“Yes?” You ask, both nervous and excited at the same time.
“Your voice,” he says gruffly, pressing a rough kiss to your lips, “it was beautiful.” Stunned at his comment you look at him wildly.
“Who are you and what have you done with Katsuki Bakugou?” You giggle, leaning your head against the wall. “Such a romantic compliment.” You quip, giving him a shit-eating smile.
“Whatever, don’t get used to it. At all. That was a one time thing,” He says quickly, pressing another kiss against your lips. “Now come on or we’re gonna be late to this thing that you got the both of us into.” He says roughly, leading you back into the room. You smile as you see the rest of your friends ready to go with the rest of the class seated and ready to watch.
“Ready to rock?” You say, a sly smile spreading across your face.
“Like a stupid jingle bell.” He replies, giving you a faint grin.
108 notes · View notes
yangrr · 4 years
Text
dear no one [q.kun]
⇾ pairing : qian kun x reader
⇾ summary : love is worth the wait,especially when it’s your favourite food store aunty’s grandson
⇾ wc : 2k
⇾ genre/warnings : implied soulmate! au,inspired by Tori Kelly’s Dear No One | mild swearing
+if i may add,i want to dedicate this to @nctream​ who has always been the writer whom i admired for the longest time.thank you for being the sweetest person i came across this hellsite,though i never actually communicate with you but you’re so incredible and i hope you know that.much love!
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All your life,you’ve wanted nothing more than to meet the one,the soulmate who was allegedly entwined with your soul before your time on Earth even began ticking.Everyone has someone,it was just a matter of time before you meet them.But that was also exactly why you were impatient,counting down daily on the crossed-out boxes of your yearly calendar,most of your friends had met theirs by now.Some married,some even with kids---or just happily dating.All but you.
It sucked really.
Going to work in the wretched company every day was like a punch to the guts when everyone around you was all about love.Mrs Kim on the marketing department always showed off her vacation photos--it was always jolly and exciting,grinning faces of her twin boys seemed to mock you for your lack of relationship.And there was also Mr Lee,a young intern who was at least 4 years younger than you but had already found his one and only.
And how about Mr Park,the old bumbling guy nearing his retirement age?His sweet plump wife never forgets to pack him lunch,constantly reminding him to wear his tweed coat in case he catches a cold in the draughty security room.
What about you?No one to come home to,no one packing your lunch or was there a partner for holidays.Twenty-three pushing twenty-four with no felicity in love.Lady Luck never smiled at you much,you could say.Maybe it’s your resting bitch face,it could probably scare off the fortune bearing deity and leave her quivering in her robes.
The day was cold as it is,heavy rain started its relentless onslaught on the wooden roof of the rickety store off the main road.You were craving hot soup after work and thought it would be a good idea to drive off course to visit the dear old lady who ran the shop on her own.She was an amiable creature,forever ready to offer a radiant smile that let her old beauty trickle through.The granny would probably be one of the few people you were genuinely nice to,which explains your big chunk of discount every time you stopped by.
But it wasn’t a good idea of course.Nothing you ever did was a good idea.
Your engine couldn’t start up after running in the rain for your car.Other than damaging the leather seats of your vehicle,your heels sunk deep into the slushy mud and broke right when you yanked upwards to get it out.Groaning in frustration,your fingers latched onto the tresses of your wet hair,the half-cracking nail getting caught between them.You forgot to cut them last night,and now it had turned its head back to bite you in the arse.
The you that made your way back into the shop shocked the small-framed lady,your disheveled appearance a huge contrast to the sleek you that had left the store a few minutes ago.You probably gave her little heart the dose of pump she never needed.
“Dear,what happened?”She exclaimed,scurrying over to you with two thick towels. “You’ll have to dry off,or you’ll be sick!”
She sat you down on the chair behind the counter,while you attempted to shield your ratty image from the prying eyes of her customers.It didn’t really work though,they still locked glances on you,curious and hushed gossip brewing among the group of malevolent looking ladies who look upon you with their beady eyes.
“Come,”She urged,ushering you towards the baby blue curtains that led into the kitchen,maybe.There was a “STAFF ONLY” hanging above the entrance,and the sound of pans clanging gave it away.
“Qian Kun!”Her frail voice shrieked in Mandarin, “Qian Kun,where are you,you lazy boy,”Tugging you by the arm,she led you further into the cooking area.The smell of cooking was making your full stomach rumble again,and you once again longed for the hot herbal soup with noodles. “Are you on your phone again?”
“I’m not lazy!”Was the reply.A fairly built man emerged out of nowhere,eyebrows furrowed in confusion when his eyes rested on your straggly form. “Who’s this?The new cashier?”He queried,wiping his wet hands on the rag by the table.
You couldn't answer,your usually sharp tongue felt prickly and numb.You only stared back absent-mindedly,but he looked about as enamoured by you like you had been by him.
You knew the old lady told him something,and with the way she was yelling at him,you figured he was too zoned out to concentrate.Both of you tore your gazes away from each other when his grandmother reached up to his broad shoulders to give him a good shake.
“You never listen to me.” She grumbled,huffing indignantly. “All I told you to do is to lend them something to wear,and drop them back.”
The granny gave Kun a small shove, “Naughty boy,and you were so cute back then.”She muttered,retying her apron hastily and hurrying away to wait on the unattended counter.
“I’m still cute now.”He mumbled,looking sheepish in front of you. “I-uh-I apologise,that was embarrassing.”
“No worries.”You let out a small giggle,waving his comment off. “Your grandmother is cute.”
The corners of his mouth pulled up in an amused smile,while he gestured for you to follow him. “I hope you can fit into my granny’s clothes,they are a little old-fashioned but I think you can make it work.”
The door behind the pantry led up to a stairway of wooden steps,and then into a fairly warm lounge.There was a small couch,and a bed accompanied with a shelf of books and board games.You supposed that this could be their resting place of some sort when they closed temporarily for the day,lunch break, or whenever someone feels a little out of it.
“This place looks really comfortable.”You remarked,shifting your black button-up from sticking onto your skin.It clung on like leeches,making this whole ordeal more unpleasant than it already is.The nail was giving you excruciating pain,the shard of the broken end digging vehemently into your fingertips.
“It is,my granny made sure it’s the best condition so all the employees would feel comfy here.” Kun rummaged in the closet to the left of the bed,fishing out a pair of loose black pants and a plain white tee. “Here,she didn’t leave any shirts here,but I hope you’re okay with mine.”
You nodded thankfully,reaching out to take them from him.The shirt smelled nice,your nose picking up on the lavender-scented detergent wafting from the material.
“Then I’ll drive you home?” The warm tone of his voice felt homely, sending hot waves across your body,making you feel like a lightheaded teenager talking to their crush for the first time,tongue heavy with nerves.But yet at the same time,the attraction that bloomed in your chest felt more matured and controlled than the seventeen-year-old you,age muffling the lovesick squeals that you would’ve let out when you’re alone in your room.
You had felt something when you first landed eyes on him,a familiar feeling stemming that made it impossible to wound your mind around.Maybe it was your affection deprived self that was being delusional,and it would pass like one of your many fleeting crushes.
But you couldn’t help but let your mind wander,thinking about what if he was the one you’ve been waiting for?
+
If there was a chance to hit the pause button,you would, in half a heartbeat.The quiet fragments of conversation shared brought you a sense of ease that you’ve never felt in a long time,with white noises and soft tunes of guitar strumming playing from the car radio was almost ethereal.The drizzle of the rain incorporated flavour to the moment like the topping to your favourite dessert,it was the perfect addition that completed the time shared.
“I’ll drop by tomorrow to return the clothes.”You said,unbuckling the seatbelt as he stopped in the lobby of your apartment complex.
“Alright,I guess I’ll see you tomorrow again?”Kun smiled,the kind that made your organs go mushy and all gooey,like someone stuck a ladle in you and began to stir aggressively.
“For sure!Thank you for the lift.” You limped out of the car slowly,careful to not cause more impairment to your shoes.You didn’t fancy going up the elevator looking like someone ran you over with a truck,but there wasn’t much of an option.
All you could think of that night were Qian Kun and his calloused fingers,deep timbre voice and gentle smiles.Maybe you were going crazy,but again,there wasn’t much of an option either.
+
“You seem very happy today.” Mrs Kim from the marketing team mentioned,the cheerful grin almost blinding you.You couldn’t help but spot the striking resemblance of the smile to her sons.Now,it suddenly appeared more kind and less scornful than you thought,and you felt a little bad for always being grouchy towards her.You realised it was nothing but your loneliness coming into play,and you would even admit that you were envious of her happy family life. “Had a great day yesterday?”
“Not really,no,”You told her. “But I guess it wasn’t all that bad.”
So the tales of yesterday’s misfortunes came pouring out of you,from the dreaded engine to the antagonising broken nail,Mrs Kim was more than shocked to see the unconscious tug of your lips upwards.
“And you’re still smiling after all that?”She laughed. “I’m gonna say that you met someone.”
Your eyes widened a bit,trying to cough it off. “I didn’t!It was just the store owner’s grandson.”
“So there is someone?”Mrs Kim waggled her eyebrows at you. “You cannot hide from me,child.That’s the face of an infatuated person.”
+
The bell jingled when you pushed open the glass door.Stepping in,you opened your mouth to greet the granny like usual,but was met with an unknown face gaping at you.It was a boy,around a few years younger,round marble eyes curious yet welcoming.His booming tone greeted you,far too much enthusiasm for your liking.
“Hello,welcome!What would you like today,miss?We have chicken noodle soup for today’s special and--,”
“Lucas,please stop talking so loudly.”Kun’s voice reverberated from behind the thin curtains. “You’re gonna scare all the customers on your first day.”
“I’m here to see Kun.”You spoke to the giant of a human,glancing swiftly at the kitchen entrance,slightly intimidated by his tall stature.He gave you a quick once-over,looking a bit confused.
“Are you his girlfriend?”He questioned,shooting you a broad smirk. “Kun ge is so lucky,I’m--”
“Lucas,what’s taking so long?”Kun appeared again like the first time you met him,drying his damp hands on a small rag. “Oh!”
“Oh,indeed.”Lucas said,mischief written all over his face. “Is this your girlfriend,gege?Should I let granny know about this?”
Kun scowled at him,murmuring something along the lines of ��if you don’t shut up,I’ll make sure you don’t have a job by the end of today.’
“Hey.”
You passed him the neatly packed parcel, “I’ve washed everything.Thank you again for being so kind to me.”
“I say this calls for a celebration.” Lucas interrupted,peeking from behind the cash register. “Kun,remember that sushi place you wanted to try out?The one near the local university.”
Kun hummed, “What celebration?”
“That someone is finally into you for the first time in twenty-four years?You should appreciate this effort made by this very beautiful individual.”
“Would you kindly shut the fuck up?”Kun hissed,the frown intensifying.
“Well,if you need someone to go with,I know a person who would very much like to.”You interjected,growing more bashful by the second.
“Great!Now you two settle between yourselves.I’ve got work to do!”Lucas said brightly,darting away.
Kun smiled,tucking his phone away in his pocket,glittering irises not leaving yours.
“I’ll call you.” He promised,and somewhere in you just knew he would.
And as you made your way out of the store,the keen sense in your being told you that something very special was about to begin.
Good things truly do come to those who wait,after all.
128 notes · View notes
artsy--shipper · 3 years
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Getting into the Christmas spirit with another Kiritsuyu scenario!
One night, the Bakusquad heads out to a walk-through light festival
There’ll be food, games, and all kinds of fun and unique light displays
Tsu has never gotten to walk through one because it’s too cold for her, and Kiri feels awful about her not being able to come- the sad look on her face as they left broke his heart
So he decides that if he can’t bring Tsu to the lights, he’ll bring the lights to Tsu
He makes sure to record everything he can on his phone, so she can watch the videos later
He provides narration every step of the way and lingers a bit at the pretty displays when he can, trying to make sure Tsu gets as much of the full experience as she can
And in true Bakusquad fashion, they get plenty of silly shenanigans on camera too
Like when they come across a display of a frog wearing a Santa hat...
Denki: *points* “Hey Kirishima look, it’s your girlfriend!”
Kiri: “Huh? What are you talking a-” *looks where Denki is pointing* “...Oh! Oh yeah!”
Kiri: “Babe, look, it’s you! Look how cute!”
Kiri: “...okay, yeah, that one’s officially my favorite”
It’s cold enough that Kiri can see his breath, so he definitely takes full advantage of that when they come across an impressive dragon display that actually breathes smoke, running up to it and doing his best dragon impression along with it
And of course, when they find a display with a group of dancing reindeer, naturally they all have to go up to it and dance along with the reindeer
Except Jirou, who wants no part of that- Kiri gets her to film for him
Jirou keeps cracking up at Denki’s wacky dancing, and having to stop herself when she starts to steer the camera away from Kiri
And when they come up to a display of a guitar-playing reindeer, Kiri absolutely takes the opportunity to run up to it and start singing along to the Christmas music playing over the speakers in the loudest, manliest singing voice he can muster
(thankfully he didn’t get kicked out, but he did get a lot of eyerolls lol)
Kiri brings Tsu back some food and some cute bow hair clips decorated with jingle bells and greenery
After they get back, he sets up the TV in the common room to display the videos from his phone (with a little help from Mei) and builds a blanket nest for him and Tsu to cuddle in and watch together
The two of them settle in with the goodies Kiri brought back, plus some cookies and hot cocoa, and they even don some cozy Santa hats for maximum Christmas spirit- Kiri wears a green one, Tsu wears a red one
They have a lovely time cozying up and watching the lights together- it warms Kiri’s heart to see how happy his li’l frog is as she gazes in awe at the dazzling light displays, smiles at Kiri’s adorable enthusiasm as he narrates everything, and giggles at his silly dancing and singing
Partway through the video, Kiri gets an idea- he takes a couple of Tsu’s new hair bows and clips one to the top of each of their hats
Tsu smiles at her clever li’l shark- he’s just full of lovely ideas ^u^ The cute plaid bow decorated with holly complements her hat perfectly, and the soft jingling of the little bell makes the atmosphere feel even more festive
And she thinks Kiri looks absolutely adorable with the bow on his hat too, especially when he starts shaking it from side to side as he sings along with the Christmas music in the video, keeping in time with the little jingle bell
The greenery on the bow matches nicely with his green hat, and- wait... that’s not holly on his bow, Tsu realizes... he didn’t plan this, did he?
Tsu, “Uh, Kirishima-chan... y-you do realize that’s mistletoe on your hat, right? Kero?”
Kiri freezes and looks up at the bow dangling from his hat, and his face flushes red... no, he hadn’t realized
There’s a moment of awkward silence between them, and then Kiri turns to Tsu with a shy smile, rubbing the back of his neck
Kiri: “W-Well, ah... you know the rules, right?”
And he wraps his arm around Tsu’s shoulder and gently kisses her on the cheek
Tsu’s cheeks glow pink, and a warm smile spreads across her face
She presses a soft kiss to Kiri’s cheek as well, and she gives him a big hug and tucks her head under his chin
Kiri pulls her close, and the two of them snuggle up and enjoy the rest of the video together, feeling warm, cozy and content
The two of them agree that this has been the perfect Christmas date, and Tsu couldn’t be more grateful to Kiri for going the extra mile to make it special for her
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forever--darling · 4 years
Text
not too far away - s.m. (part twelve)
a/n: where she goes and explains everything to everyone
warnings: 6.7k words of truth telling, text messages, and tears
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XII. heaven’s not too far away pt. 1
him 
It was early in the morning, maybe around seven thirty or eight. Shawn wasn’t sure. He had gotten to the studio at six desperate to pull out his guitar and start putting together all of the loose lyrics that had been stuck in his head since he got to Canada then left again. Finally, he was able to let it all out. Everything he was feeling because of Y/N, finally he would be able to express it. 
Lounging in an office chair, back sinking into the cushions, he sat crossed leg with his guitar in his lap. He was plucking the strings, trying to find the right chord. His producers and other music writers were littered across the room, going through what they had gotten done already in the two-hour span that they had been at the studio. Finally, their attention was brought back to Shawn as his head fell back against the headrest of the chair and he let out a frustrated groan. His gaze moved from his guitar to each member of his staff.
“I think I’m going to take a break,” he announced, setting the guitar down next to the chair. He stood up shorts falling loosely around his hips. 
“That’s probably a good idea,” Teddy, one of Shawn’s music producers, replied standing up from where she was sat. 
Snatching his phone from a side table, Shawn bolted for the door to head into the hallway. He opened it up to his lock-screen and instantly smiled at the message that was displayed. “Hey superstar, don’t work yourself to death today. okay?” 
It was Y/N, because who else would it be. She was the first person, he called when his flight landed and then that night Facetimed her for three hours. He had been gone a whole twenty-four hours and was missing her like crazy. He was happy to be back in the studio and though trying to write hit singles was a long and frustrating process, he was relieved to be back to what he loved. That didn’t change though that the other part of him wanted to fly back to where his other love currently was. 
“No, promises, but I’ll try not too. What are you doing today?” he typed back. 
Dropping his arm, Shawn tapped his phone against his thigh impatiently and luckily within seconds his phone buzzed. There was an image and then a text. She had sent him a picture of her lounging on her couch, glasses on her nose, hair messy, and sat in one of his hoodies with a textbook in her hand. “This,” was the simple text. 
“All day?” he questioned. 
She was typing. The speech bubble was there and though they were only texting he still felt all giddy inside. “I don’t know, we’ll see what the day brings.” 
Quite the adventurer, Shawn thought to himself as his thumbs hovered over the keyboard. “Whatever, happens I hope today is great. Facetime you later?” 
Buzz. “It’s a date. ;)” 
Sighing happily, he hugged his phone to his chest. He really had fallen and it never had felt like this before. Was this real? He felt like he should ask someone to pinch him because he felt like he was dreaming. Who knows maybe in a week or two, Andrew would let him go up to Canada for a weekend. If he was doing well in the studio and everything was in order, maybe no one would mind. He knew though that if that was going to happen, he needed to really push himself during the sessions. Try not to get too distracted and just focus on what sounds the best and most importantly what sounded like him. And if all else fails, the love that filled his heart would do the work for him. 
+
her
You can’t believe you just did that. You lied, again. There was no way you were going to be able to talk to Shawn later unless it was before six and being in Canada meant you were three hours ahead in time. I am a horrible person, you thought to yourself. Running your hands through your hair, you glanced down to the time on your phone. It was now eight. You should really get up and get going.  You had asked your boss for the day off a week ago when you scheduled the surgery and without a second to hesitate he obliged. Now, it would be a long day of visiting people and telling them about your situation. You only had until four before Demi would be picking you up to take you to the hospital to meet your family. 
From there the next two hours would be used for prep, for the surgery, and to calm the nerves that were currently bubbling in your stomach. Like you had been saying for days, a week, pretty much since you found out the cancer was back… you had a horrible feeling about the whole thing. You had been so lucky the first time and since leaving the hospital that day where you had been “cancer free” you had gained so many blessings. Shawn being the main one. He had appeared out of nowhere like a knight on a horse and didn’t only rescue your friendship but he rescued you. He might end up being the love of your life and he would never know because though you had been one of the lucky ones, now you were afraid that your luck was about to run out. 
You were beginning to scare yourself, your thoughts were turning against you and at this point, you were no longer feeling sane. So, with no other option, it was time. Time to get off your ass and reveal the truth so if the worst ended up to happen, those you loved could start their healing process. If things were to not go your way, you needed the truth to be lifted off your chest. Not only for you but everyone you cared about. They had the rest of their lives to live, and they couldn’t waste it grieving over how yours was cut short. You would never forgive yourself if you went to the grave without telling the people how much you loved them in person before it was too late. You had already done that once but came out lucky and you couldn’t have it happen again. 
So, you stood up from your couch and made your way to your bathroom. You took a long warm shower, using your favorite body wash, and then pulled on a pair of white jeans and a dark grey tank top. You paired it with a pair of white slip-on shoes, and a jean jacket. Straightening the short hair that you had, you pulled the back bits into a bun, pulling out a few pieces to frame the face. You even put in the effort to do your makeup, bronzed cheeks, tan lids, and a little bit of mascara. It was out of the ordinary for you but the simple action made you smile . 
A quarter from twelve, you packed up your car with everything you needed for the day and climbed into the driver’s seat, a pair of sunglasses resting on your nose. With the necklace Shawn gave you lying against your chest, you started the car and began to make your way towards the best book shop in the whole city. 
It was early, and you knew that Loretta had opened it up not too long ago. You parked in your normal parking spot near the door that never seemed to be taken. A bag was being carried in your left hand, as your car keys clinked in the other on the key-ring that also happened to have the key to Shawn’s apartment on it. Opening the old wooden door, the bell jingled above the door. Then came the door creaking as it slid against the floor and then the sweet smell of pumpkins. You would never get tired of that smell and the sound of that door. It was a place you wished you could be more often.
At the sound of the door, Loretta whipped around from behind the desk eyes going wide as they landed on you. She quickly emerged out and away from her chair that sat behind the desk and made her way towards you. Though your hands were full, she still pulled you into a tight hug. “Y/N, darling, what a nice surprise.” 
“Morning, Loretta,” you replied as the lady released you from her sometimes suffocating arms, and stroked your cheek like she often did when she saw you. 
“How have you been, my sweets? I wanted to tell you about how lovely your party was but didn’t get the chance before I left.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. There were just some things I needed to deal with.” you explained, hand self consciously tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 
“It’s all good,” she sighed, hand rubbing your forearm gently, “I wanted to say that I’m proud of you and your father of course. What he did was in no way easy and I’m glad that you had told everyone what had happened.” 
You smiled, “Me too.” 
She smiled back as her eyes fell to the bag in your hand, obviously growing curious, “Oh, and what’s this?” 
“Well, I brought you something,” you said, moving over towards the desk to put the bag on top. 
Loretta still had a smile on her face but now was a little confused, “What for?” 
“I don’t know, just because,” you shrugged not finding it in yourself to admit it that second. 
Not able to take her curious eyes scanning you any longer, you turned and reached inside the bag pulling out the object which turned out to be a yellow hardcover book with some purple detailing on the front. Loretta’s eyes drew to it immediately. “Y/N, what is that?” 
A mischievous smile had formed on your lips as you handed her the book, “Well, it just so happens to be your favorite book but first edition.” 
At that, her mouth dropped and her eyes had widened. Tears were quickly forming as she glanced back and forth from the book in her hands to you. As she stared at you speechless, you could hear that familiar sound of four little feet bouncing off the floor. Looking towards where the sound was coming from, the first thing you noticed was the big floppy ears. Lou jumped towards you, the pads of his feet starting to paw at your legs. 
You chuckled as you bent down to the pet the mutt’s head, fingers then running over the soft fur that covered his ears. “Hi, Lou. Don’t you worry, buddy because I got you something too.” 
With that, you stood back up and reached into the bag again, pulling out a brown collar that had books printed on it. Loretta gasped again, this time louder as you handed her the collar. She had small tears falling down her round cheeks and she stared at you in disbelief and in happiness. “Y/N, where did you find this book?” 
“It doesn’t matter,” you responded hands reaching out to cradle hers that were shaking. 
“Yes it does.” 
“It really is nothing,” you assured her as the smile on your face dropped a little as you stared at this woman that you cared so much about. 
She was someone you looked up too and often was envious of all the kindness that filled her soul. Her life hadn’t been a walk in the park and she deserved way more than she had been given and you were so happy that she turned it around and now was where she was. She was truly an extraordinary woman who was making a change in the world one book at a time, as corny as that sounded. 
Another tear rolled down her face, “It really does. This means everything. What made you want to do this?” 
At that question, you grew silent and you smiled at her sadly as if you weren’t able to get the words out. She was the first person on your list to tell and you didn’t even have to guts to do that. But within an instance, it seemed like you wouldn’t have to. Her smile had quickly faded and her tears had stopped for a mere second but at the realization, they began to fall again, this time faster. 
“Oh, honey,” she cried, gripping your hand, “Please tell me it isn’t true.” 
You held back the tears gathering in your eyes because you knew if you were going to make it through going to see everyone else you couldn’t cry. “We both know I can’t do that.” 
“How bad is it?” she asked timidly. 
“Not bad enough that I need chemo but still just as bad that I need to have surgery,” you mumbled, eyes locked onto her chocolate ones that were swimming with tears. 
It became silent for a second. “When?” 
You sighed squeezing her hands, “Tonight, and if it’s not too much to ask I would like you and Demetrius to come to the hospital right before. In case it goes long, you don’t need to stay but-” 
She cut you off, “Baby, we’ll be there.” 
You smiled thankfully as Loretta began to wipe at the tears on her face, “Thank you. Now, is Demetrius around so I can tell him what’s going on.” 
Loretta gained back that smile. The one on her face that was small but filled with so much kindness it could lift anyone's spirits on a bad day. “Yeah. He’s back in the corner. In that green velvet chair, you love so much.” 
That smile on your face got twice as large at the new found fact and with one more squeeze to Loretta’s palms you bolted towards the back, bag in your hand, and Lou chasing after your feet. You ventured back into the deep depths of the shelves and as you turned the corner, you set your eyes on a Demetrius Xavier sat tucked in your chair with To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf in his hands, that coral shaded bookmark you had left still sat within the page you had been reading the last time you were in the shop. 
Demetrius had always thought it was your favorite but it wasn’t. Sure, you read it maybe a hundred times but that’s only because they managed to sell out of the book that was your favorite and you always forgot to bring yours from home. So every single time you would settle with Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse.
“Well, look what we have here,” you joked as Demetrius’s head lifted at the sound of your voice, “You’re reading Virginia Woolf.” 
He smiled, it seemed different from when he usually smiled at you, but it was still a smile, “Yes, I am. I learned from one of the biggest book nerds that it’s a good read.” 
“Well, I would agree with that book nerd. She seems very smart,” you laughed, leaning against a nearby bookshelf as you all of a sudden could feel a small wet nose nudging at your ankle. 
It was Lou, not a surprise at all. 
“She is smart,” Demetrius replied, closing the book in his lap, thumb marking his page, “And beyond beautiful. All I can do is hope that she isn’t taken from us too soon.” 
Your smile dropped and all joking behavior was set aside. Biting onto your bottom lip, you began to fiddle with your fingers, nervousness showing in your actions. 
“I heard you,” he answered your unvoiced question, “It may be a long way back here but the shelves aren’t very thick and the voices carry through the long hallway.” 
“Oh,” it slipped. The very word that seemed to ruin every moment you had with someone. 
Demetrius frowned, “You're having surgery tonight and all you can say is ‘oh’?”
“Yes,” you admitted, gaze locking onto the books above his head not able to look at him, “There is no other way to deal with the fact that this might be the last time I see you.” 
He didn’t respond at first. Instead, the warmth of his hand slipping in yours was what caused your eyes to look back at him. He was standing in front of you, close, book forgotten on the chair. “It’s not going to be the last time.” 
His stare was intense like he was so sure that you would make it through to tomorrow. At first, you didn’t notice his eyes moving to your lips but once they did you knew that every gut feeling and everything Demi had said about Demetrius was true. He had some sort of feelings for you. Ones that you weren’t going to be able to give back to him. Glancing back to your eyes then down to your lips again, you knew that whatever he was about to do couldn’t happen. 
“I brought you something,” you exclaimed, suddenly, slipping out of where you were standing between him and the bookshelf. Grabbing the last item out of the bag, you looked back towards Demetrius with a smile gracing your lips, like you hadn’t noticed his lingering stare. “If you had to name my favorite book right now what would you say?” 
“Easy, To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf,” he said, sounding so sure of himself. 
“Wrong.” 
That’s when he became confused, “What, that’s totally your favorite book.” 
“It’s actually not,” you chuckled. 
“Then what is it?” Demetrius asked, arms crossing over his chest. You then took the item that was behind your back and handed it over to him. “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.” 
“Yes,” you confirmed, “You see it’s such a popular book that Loretta never has it in stock so instead I just settle with Woolf because it’s not a problem. This though is my all time favorite book and I know that you have never read it. Any of them in fact, so I was hoping for me that you would.” 
A smile formed on his face, “For you, I would do anything.” 
It was sweet but it didn’t sound like something a friend would say to a friend. It felt like more and you needed to set the story straight. Eyes locking with your shoes on the floor, you asked before you changed your mind. “Demetrius, do you like me?” 
His face turned to one of confusion, “Of course I like you.” 
“You know that’s not what I meant,” you whispered, head lifting to meet his eyes. 
You were calling him out and he didn’t look terrified one bit because he was sure of his feelings and that was something you could see on his face. “I know and I do. I shouldn’t because of how you feel about Shawn but I can’t help it.”
You felt relief wash over you, he wasn’t trying to do anything to get with you. He knew of what you wanted and simply was a man who couldn’t help what he was feeling. You pulled him into a hug, arms wrapping around his torso. “Please, promise me that you’ll find someone and stop holding onto what you feel about me. Demetrius, you deserve so much more. You deserve someone who feels the same way and I just need you to promise that you’ll try and to find that person.” 
It was a simple answer and though you were breaking a small piece of his heart, he answered like he knew this was going to happen all along and he was okay with it. “For you, anything.” 
+
After you had spent more time with Loretta and Demetrius, just talking about the surgery, you had bid a goodbye. You had hugged them both and got into your car, not daring to glance through the front store window, too scared to see the looks still enveloped on their faces. 
The next person you went to see was Demi. Though you were going to see her late so she could drive you, you felt like you needed to see her. Besides Shawn, she was the best friend that had been with you through thick and thin. She was one of your favorite people in the world and there was no one else that you felt as sure about being your friend as Demi. She was a light and on days in the hospital where it seemed completely unbearable, she was there to lift your spirits with her unique sense of humor and love and care that she had as a best friend. You were internally grateful for her existence and knew without her you maybe wouldn’t be where you are now, both emotionally and mentally. 
She was a catch, a queen, and the most beautiful woman you knew and if there was one thing you were sure about it was that if you didn’t make it and James does not treat her right, you’re older brother would be the first person you were going to haunt. 
Parking the car, you could already see Demi through the front window. She was working at a fashion store at the moment as she finished up her last few years of college, and you wouldn’t deny that one of the reasons you came to see her on her lunch break so often was because she gave a discount on the clothes. Instead of a bag this time, you were carrying a wooden box. One that was filled with so many memories, all that could never go forgotten... by anyone. 
There Demi was, sat on top of the counter with the cash register, not caring about her bosses rules because there were no customers at all in the store. She had a can of Coca-Cola next to her as she talked, hands moving in the air to her co-worker. That was your best friend alright, you thought to yourself as you walked in causing her to leap from the counter obviously thinking you were a customer but felt relieved when she saw you. That calmness though only lasted for about ten seconds before she started to freak out. 
“What are you doing here? What the fuck is wrong?” she crossed the room to get to you and then began to scan your body, knowing that if there was something wrong with you cancer wise she wouldn’t be able to see it, but she still looked anyways. 
“Nothing’s wrong,” you said. laughing lightly. 
She sighed, hand reaching up to clutch her chest, “Don’t scare me like that. Now, what’s up. I thought I’m not supposed to come get you until four.” 
“You’re not but I needed to come see you and I was hoping you could take your lunch break.” 
She was cautious with your words but still accepted your offer, “Yeah, of course.” 
As soon as she agreed with you, you led her out of the store and about a block away to a nearby park you had only been to once in your whole time of living in the city, and the whole walk there Demi whined. Which you knew she would. You found a bench and sat down on it with Demi following. She looked around the park before her gaze moved back to you. 
“You couldn’t just talk to me at work but instead bring me a whole block away to a park?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. 
“Yes, I did,” you said gripping the box in your hand. 
“Okay,” she shrugged, taking her lunch box that she had brought with and unzipped it pulling out what she had packed for lunch. 
“Do you have to eat right now?” you asked giving her an irritated look. 
“Well this is my lunch break and I am fucking starving,” she argued, beginning to eat her strawberries. 
You sighed, “Dem, this will only take a minute, I promise.” 
She could see how important this clearly was and put the food aside. With that, you handed her the wooden box that was plain out the outside, not giving a clue of what was inside. She stared at it for a second in her lap before she looked back at you, “What is this?” 
“Just open it,” you said, impatiently. 
And without another word spoken, she did. Under the top was a picture of you and her at your birthday party. You both had your bodies facing each other as you looked at the camera. Hands that were closest to the camera were intertwined with each other while your other arms were wrapped around the other. Your smiles were so bright and so happy like they always were when you were together, and it warmed your heart that you had had such a strong friendship with someone. 
Around the picture were golden stars that you had glued on along with little pieces of gold confetti. Within the box though was a bunch of different stuff. From your favorite pair of comfy socks that she always stole when you were over, to the one movie you watched over and over again since you heard you had cancer, The Fault in Our Stars. You also threw in Just Friends with Ryan Reynolds in case it was too depressing to keep watching The Fault in Our Stars over and over again. Scattered around the inside, there were multiple pictures of your friendship over the year, one from Prom that had your corsage taped to the bottom because that night Demi had treated you better than your own date. There was another of you and her at a fancy restaurant eating some kind of exotic cake for her birthday.
You also added in her favorite perfume and lastly a charm bracelet. There were multiple charms to represent the crazy adventures you had, like a boat, for the time you had let her drove one on the lake and almost crashed it. You also added a wand for both of your obsessions for Harry Potter. But though those all meant something none of them were like the plastic pink butterfly in the middle. 
The rest were silver and you had bought for the bracelet, but that butterfly you had added. Crazy enough it used to be on this thick plastic pink chain you had gotten for your sixth birthday from Demi. You had loved that necklace so much that you wore it every day for three whole years before you lost it. You eventually found it again and after that you swore you never would lose it again. 
 “Y/N/N,” she was speechless and the only thing that could come from her mouth was your name. 
You gave her the biggest smile you could muster because she was one of the only people that could make you smile that big, “Demi, I just wanted to say that I love you. A lot. You’re my best friend, and don’t say anything about Shawn, because though he has always had the title so do you. You have been by my side through everything and even when I had gotten sick you had made time for me. You brought a kind of support and friendship to my life that I could never repay you for. There’s a chance that things might not work out but this is how I want you to remember me,  always. You truly are one of the most important people in my life and I did this so you know how much I love you and how blessed I am to have you in my life.” 
There it was. The tears. Those Demi tears that didn’t make a showing for many people. She was sniffling too and you knew that she wasn’t going to be able to say anything back after the speech of gratitude you just pulled out. So, instead, she hugged you. Hugged you, the way a friend does. She poured all of her feelings out in the way she held you and you knew that you would never find a better partner in crime than here. 
“And there’s one more thing,” you mumbled, moving back to look at her tear stained cheeks, “I want you to know that you can date my brother. I’m giving you permission.” 
Her eyes moved away from your gaze like she was scared to admit that. Scared to tell you of her feelings for James but you both had an idea that you already knew because just like the back of your hand you knew Demi. 
“You don’t have to deny it because I see everything that’s been going on since the night of my birthday to the secret texts and the dates that you are going on but claim are with some guy who is into marketing. I just want you to know that though it’s a little weird, I don’t mind because I am not going to stand in the way of what makes you two happy.” 
More tears fell from her brown eyes and because you were sure her throat was closing up due to her trying to hold back more tears, she just grabbed you for another hug instead of struggling to find her words. This was fine with you because you knew what she was trying to say.
+
This was going to be the hardest. You knew that as you walked into that restaurant to see the three of them sat at that table. Happy and smiling. You knew you could turn around, not tell them, and pretend that everything was fine but then you thought about your parents, you thought about Shawn. It was the right thing to do. Which is why you sucked it up.There was no more time to be scared, so you walked over to the table and took a seat in that fourth chair. 
“Y/N, dear, how are you?” Karen asked, hand reaching out to touch your arm. 
You smiled, “I’m okay. And you?” 
“Lovely, thank you for asking,” she replied. 
“Nice to see you, kid,” Manny said from across the table to which you nodded in reply. 
Then there was Aaliyah. Sweet, funny Aaliyah. Fifteen years old, not much older than when you first found out about your sickness. She was going to take it the hardest you knew that. She was smiling at you and you couldn’t imagine the look that would be on her face after this lunch. 
“I know you’re probably all wondering why I made you drive all the way to the city,” you started, hands fiddling with the black frame in your lap. 
Karen could see the anxiety that was forming and grasped your hand in hers, “Whatever it is, just take a deep breath and tell us.” 
You did as she said, you took a deep breath, and handed them the frame. It was a picture, taken in the summer at a lake house your families had gotten together. Both your family and the Mendes family were stood on the dock in front of the sunset. You were standing in between Shawn and Aaliyah and next to her was James. Both sets of parents stood behind the four of you and nothing but smiles were present on everyone's faces. It was funny because right after that picture, Shawn tried to push you in the lake but the joke was on him because you ended up taking him with you. 
Karen, Manny, and Aaliyah stared at the picture then glanced at you. They were smiling at the fond memory but weren’t sure with what your point was with the picture. You took another deep breath, “As long as I can remember, your family has been there with mine. You all have done so much for me and James and my parents. I wanted to say thank you.”
“Y/N, we are happy that you feel this way but hun what else is going on to make you feel like you have to say this?” Karen asked, eyes locked onto you. 
You sighed, fingers tapping against the table, “At my birthday party, you all got to know the truth of what I had gone through and my dad had never been so relieved to announce that his daughter was cancer free which it turns out I’m not anymore. I went to the hospital a little bit ago and there are new Mets.” 
Their faces dropped and all traces of happiness from moments ago were gone because of you. You knew this would be the result of today, you were telling people something they feared for you but it was what you were supposed to do. You had to rip the band-aid off because the sooner you do that the sooner the pain will start to go away. It was a healing process. 
“To remove the cancer cells, I am having surgery tonight at around six o’clock and if you could, I would really like you to be there before I go. You all are so important to me and it would just mean a lot if you were there. I am sorry it’s so last minute.”
That’s when Manny nodded, “Yeah, of course, we’ll go.” 
It brought a smile to your face, “Thank you so much.” 
“Of course, we are going to be here for you every step of the way,” Karen spoke a sad smile on her face. 
The only one who hadn’t talked was Aaliyah. She was staring at with you such large, sad eyes while she bit on her lip to hold in her emotions. You looked towards her hoping she would say something and as her eyes locked with yours, her mouth opened but what came out was something you never expected. 
“Shawn?” she questioned, “What about Shawn?” 
That drew both Manny and Karen’s attention too because for a few minutes they forgot about their son who was in LA recording songs for his next album at the moment. “He doesn’t know,” you admitted. 
You had never seen Karen and Manny look so conflicted before. They probably wanted to tell him but also didn’t want to upset you. You knew that by the way, they were looking at you, they were a little lost with what do to. You had to say it, you needed to assure them of all of their doubts and worries. 
“I need you to know,” you paused, trying to catch your breath, “That I’m in love with your son, so completely. And it hurts me to not have him here, trust me it does but I think that it would break him if he had to watch me go through this. He needs to stay in LA and sing and just get back to being Shawn Mendes. It’s just something I had to say because I do, I love him.” 
“Thank you.” Karen replied tears in her eyes, “I know that he holds a special place in his heart for you.” 
“I’m going to tell him. I promise. He is going to know by tonight,” you confirmed, glancing back and forth between the three members of the Mendes family that stood in front of you. 
They didn’t say much else, you knew that they wanted to but held back for you. You were going through something that they couldn’t even imagine and though they may have not agreed with your decisions, they accepted them for the time being and that’s all anyone could ever ask for. 
+
You had one more place to stop at before you had to head back to your apartment and then leave with Demi for the hospital. It should be a quick spot because you knew that there was no possible way this person could stand having you around for more than a few minutes. That or they might not even see you at all which, either way, it didn’t matter because you had things to say and they were going to be heard. You parked the car a street down, away from the building. It was tall and made of windows. Expensive and chic. Everything that successful men and women got to see every day when they worked there. That was a life that you were maybe never going to see but that wasn’t such a bad thing. 
Going in through the revolving door, you asked around until you found which floor was the place you needed to go which took at least ten minutes to get the information. The floor was used for the higher staff who worked at the magazine company. There were writers, editors, assistants to the writers and editors. It was a place that was full of important people who probably wished to not spend their important time on you. You had taken the elevator and as soon as you walked off and onto the floor, you came face to face with a receptionist sitting at her desk. She had a headset on her head and was scribbling down notes like crazy. It took you almost two minutes to get her attention. 
“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find a Lauren Arendse,” you politely asked which didn’t change the uptight face that was on the receptionist. 
“Do you have an appointment?” she asked, snobbishly. 
“Uh, no but I’m an old friend of hers from school and I really needed to see her,” you said pleadingly. 
She stared at you for around twenty seconds like she was trying to see if you were telling the truth. She blinked and just pulled her ponytail tighter on her head as she began to dial on a phone. “What’s your name?” 
“Y/N Y/L/N,” you replied watching as the receptionist leaned back in her chair as the phone rang before she finally began to talk into the phone, meaning someone had clearly picked it up. “Ms. Arendse, there is a Y/N Y/L/N here to see you, claims that she went to school with you. Do you want me to send her to your office.” 
There was a moment of silence, signaling that Lauren was talking on the other side of the phone and just as it was starting to feel like forever, the receptionist hung up and turned back towards you. “I’m sorry but Ms. Arendse is in a bit of a crisis right now.” 
“Oh, okay,” you said, voice sounding disappointment as you fiddled with a white envelope in your hand, “I understand. In that case, do you think you could give this to her, for me? It’s important.” 
The receptionist could see how desperate you looked and for those last few seconds didn’t seem like a total witch, “Sure.” 
She took the envelope from you and put it down on her desk just as you turned to make your way back into the elevator. You weren’t surprised at all, that Lauren didn’t want to see you. That was the whole point of the letter because you knew this was going to happen and she still needed to hear what you had to say; about your cancer, Shawn, and the old friendship you used to have with her.
You told her of the importance of what it was like to live in the moment and to forget about everything that had happened in the past. Because when you're constantly thinking about yesterday how can you ever plan for tomorrow? It was quite simple; laugh like it’s the only thing that can cure a broken heart and love like it will all be gone tomorrow. You only have so much time, before it runs out and there’s no point wasting it on someone and something that is no longer a part of your life, or matters to who you are. 
Everyone dies at one point and if they were right about anything it was that forgiveness sets you free. If there was a chance you were going to make it to whatever afterlife there was, you couldn’t have extra weight on your shoulders weighing you down. This was your life, the one you had to deal with, and now you had told everyone. They all knew and the truth was heartbreaking. It wasn’t hard a thing to do, just sad, but now… now, it was time to go and deal with the real hard stuff.
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ericsonclan · 3 years
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Here Comes The Sun
Summary: Minnie tries to make sure everything is okay for Renata and the baby before remembering that she has a special surprise.
Word Count: 2127
Read on AO3:
It was a quiet morning. The birds were happily chirping outside and the sky was a pale blue. The sun shone up high in the sky as its rays peeked through the window into Minnie and Renata’s bedroom. The light grew warm on Minnie’s face who mumbled something before pulling Renata closer to her. Renata hummed happily and lifted up Minnie’s hand, giving soft kiss after soft kiss before melting back into her wife’s warm embrace. Minnie’s heart fluttered happily at the morning affection and she snuck a kiss on Renata’s neck, causing her wife to laugh lightly.
“That tickles,” Renata sleepily mumbled.
“Sorry,” Minnie whispered and nuzzled her face near Renata’s neck. Minnie’s fingers intertwined with Renata’s and she began to gently brush her thumb against her wife’s hand. The two snuggled in pure bliss, never wanting the moment to end when suddenly life had different plans. The alarm clocked began to buzz again and again. Minnie groaned and slipped her hands free from cuddle time to turn it off. The redhead looked over to the clock to see it was nine thirty. She really had slept in. Usually she would’ve gotten up around six. Minnie glanced back at her wife. Cuddles really were a powerful thing. Renata shifted around  before sitting up and smiling at her wife with a sleepy expression. “Good morning,”
“Good morning,” Minnie kissed Renata’s lips then pulled back and leaned down and kissed the small bump of Renata’s belly. “Good morning to you too,”
Renata smiled warmly at the sight. Every day Minnie followed the same routine and each time it filled Renata’s heart with such happiness. Renata was about to speak up when she heard paws whack against the bedroom door, causing it to open. The sound of a small bell rang brightly. Esperanza quickly hopped up onto the bed. The dalmatian wagged her tail happily and slowly moved forward. She must've heard them waking up.
“Hey there, Espy!” Renata gave the dalmatian tons of head scratches causing the dog’s tail to begin to wag wildly. Esperanza tried to lick Renata’s face which made her laugh brightly.  “So, Min, wanna get up or cuddle some more?”
Minnie glanced over at the open door. It would probably be a good idea to start the day but she also really just wanted to stay in bed and cuddle with Renata. Before she had even replied Renata was going under the covers again and had grabbed Minnie’s arms. Gently she wrapped them around herself.
“Cuddles it is,” Renata snuggled deeper into the bed. Minnie immediately returned her attention to the cuddles and moved closer to her wife. She savored the peace and tranquility of the moment. Taking a deep breath, Minnie was overwhelmed by the comforting smell of cinnamon. Esperanza quickly curled up on top of their legs and rested peacefully. The couple fell deeper and deeper into cuddle time. That was until Renata’s stomach began to growl.
“Shit, I should make breakfast!” Minnie untangled her arms and hopped out of bed. The abrupt movement made Esperanza’s head shoot up and look around worriedly. “No, stay there, Esperanza. Keep Ren company.” Minnie instructed and the dalmatian listened, moving closer to Renata and resting her head on Renata’s arm. Minnie’s feet whacked against the floor as she jogged into the kitchen. She had to make sure Renata ate enough especially now that she was pregnant. The redhead moved to the fridge and pulled out the eggs, jam and butter then searched for the bread.
“Do you think Minipie is being a bit frantic?” Renata asked her dalmatian who looked up at Renata with big eyes. A small crash from the kitchen made their heads turn to the door.
“It’s fine! Don’t worry about it! A pan just fell!” Minnie’s voice called out and soon the sound of the stove turning on could be heard.
Minnie whisked together the eggs and tossed in some pepper and salt before pouring the contents into a pan. The eggs sizzled in the pan and began to cook while the inside of the toaster glowed a light red as it toasted the bread. Minnie worked to get out the plates and the hot sauce then turned her attention back to the eggs. After a few minutes the eggs were ready, the toast was finished and covered in butter and jam and the plates were piled with food. Minnie grabbed the plate and strolled back into the bedroom. “Ta-da! Breakfast in bed!” Minnie smiled brightly at her wife.
Renata’s eyes shone with happiness and she sat back up again. Esperanza moved over and plopped down beside Renata’s legs, ready to give the biggest puppy dog eyes to get food.
“Yay! I have the best wife!” Renata leaned over and kissed Minnie’s cheek which made her blush softly. “Oh, and you brought me hot sauce too!”
“Only a little bit. I read somewhere that hot sauce can trigger an early pregnancy,”
“Boo, hot sauce is what I crave though. That and your lips,” Renata smiled flirtatiously and captured Minnie’s lips in a warm, tender kiss. Minnie’s eyes grew large before she returned the kiss then gave another and another. The two soon pulled away though as Esperanza was trying to sneakily grab Renata’s food.
“Espy, no! That's for me and the baby. You can have this though,” Renata tossed over a bit of the scrambled egg. The dalmatian happily took the food then returned to resting on Renata’s feet. Soon the couple began to eat and talk happily about this and that when a realization struck Minnie.
“Oh, shit. I forgot the drinks,”
“I can go grab them,” Renata offered and moved to push back the sheets.
“No, you should rest, don’t wanna overwork yourself!” Minnie jumped out of the bed and ran off to grab the drinks. “I’ll be back in a second,”
“Min-” Renata’s voice sounded a little worried.
“It's okay, Ren. I-” Minnie was cut off when her head hit the door and she fell backwards onto her ass.
“I was going to warn you that the door was closed,” Renata leaned over to check on her wife. “Are you okay, babe?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Minnie rubbed her forehead then got up and opened the door. The redhead strode into the kitchen and began to search the fridge for some orange juice. After successfully finding it she poured two glasses and ventured back to the bedroom. Having safely returned, Minnie sat beside her wife and the two began to happily talk once more. Breakfast was soon consumed and Minnie ran off to do the dishes. She was just about to start them when she heard the jingle of the bell on Esperanza’s collar.
“Espy and I are here to help out,” Renata beamed and walked forward, pushing up the sleeves of her pajama top.
“Ren, it's fine. I can do the dishes,” Minnie smiled back at her love. “You should-”
“Don’t say rest. I’ll be resting plenty today, especially since it's the weekend which means endless cuddle time. So just accept my help.” Renata placed her hands on her hips and tried to look intimidating. Minnie laughed and gave a nod.
“Okay, I’ll wash and you dry but please be careful where you step because-”
“Because sometimes water gets on the floor and it's slippery. Don’t worry, Min, I’ll be careful. And besides, I’ve got you and Esperanza so I’ll be safe,”
Minnie hesitantly nodded and the pair started on the dishes. After a minute Minnie began to hum a little tune; soon Renata joined in. The couple hummed together while doing the dishes and before they knew it they were done. Minnie washed her hands then gave Esperanza some much deserved affection and head pats.
“Okay, back to cuddles!” Renata placed away the damp dish towel before her eyes widened in surprise when Minnie picked her up her arms. “Min,”
“Just to make sure you don’t tire yourself out,” Minnie carefully navigated her way back to the room. Renata took the opportunity to pepper her love’s face with kisses which made Minnie’s face turn as red as her hair. Minnie gently placed Renata down onto the bed when she suddenly remembered something. “Oh, wait here!” Minnie disappeared out of the room. Renata looked confused but listened and waited with Esperanza who laid her head on Renata’s knee.
Minnie walked throughout the house and looked for her guitar. She had totally forgotten that she had been practicing a new song to sing as a surprise for the baby. The doctors had said that around this time was when the baby could begin to hear sounds. Minnie wanted to make sure that her child got to hear countless songs, starting with this one. After a minute of searching Minnie’s eyes landed on the black acoustic guitar. Grabbing it, Minnie tossed the strap over her shoulder and made her way back to the room.
Renata’s smile grew when she saw Minnie return with the guitar. “Ooo, are you going to play a song?” she asked as Minnie took a spot on the bed beside her and propped up the guitar.
“Yeah, it's actually a song I learned to sing to our baby,” Minnie scratched the back of her head and smiled then worked to tune the guitar.
Renata felt her heart warm at Minnie’s statement. She had learned a song for their child. Minnie tried a few notes and gave a short smile when she was happy with the sound. Clearing her throat, she moved her fingers to the right position on the guitar strings. Her fingers plucked the strings, creating a warm, happy tune. Minnie played the bright notes for a few seconds before she began to sing.
“Here comes the sun do, do, do
Here comes the sun
And I say it's all right.”
Minnie played some more notes and smiled at Renata then looked down at her belly.
“Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun do, do, do
Here comes the sun
And I say it's all right.”
Minnie plucked a few more notes, her fingers moving to the different positions as she strummed her guitar. She had a soft, loving expression on her face as she continued to sing.
“Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun do, do, do
Here comes the sun
And I say it's all right.”
Minnie smiled and looked at her love once more who mirrored her expression. The warm, bright notes continued to fill the room as the redhead continued to the last section of the song.
“Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun do, do, do
Here comes the sun
And I say it's all right.”
Minnie strummed a few more notes and took a deep breath as she sung the last few lyrics.
“Here comes the sun do, do, do
Here comes the sun
And I say it's all right.”
She plucked the last note and the joyful tune rang in the air for a moment before fading away. Renata smiled brightly and began to clap. “That was beautiful, Minnie! I know they loved it too,” Renata placed a hand on her belly.
“I wanted to do something special, show them how much I love them,” Minnie smiled softly. “I never thought I’d get a life like this, filled with so much joy and brightness. And now we get to bring a new brightness into this world. A little sundrop,” Minnie took Renata’s hands and gently kissed them. “I guess all of this is to say is I’m so happy to have you in my life and can’t wait to meet our child face to face.”
Minnie’s words made Renata smile softly and she moved forward, kissing her love passionately. After a moment the two pulled away and Minnie readjusted the strap on her shoulder and moved her guitar. “I’m going to learn so many songs to play for them. Our kid is going to grow up listening to music every day!” Minnie began to pluck a few more notes for another song she had been practicing and was surprised when Renata kissed her cheek.
“I love you, Minnie.”
“I love you too, Ren,” Minnie smiled then placed a hand on her belly. “And I love you too.”
The couple shared a smile and soon Minnie decided to play the song again. The music filled the room with warmth and joy as they sat together and looked forward to their bright future.
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starksvinyls · 1 year
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ahhhhh then pls this : 🤲 hehe
Would you please share a snippet of a wip?
omg yes absolutely!!
Peter loved days like this. The penthouse was quiet, he was relaxed and his mind was floaty. Soft music, something acoustic-guitar-heavy and slow, was floating through the air, just loud enough to break up the silence, but not break the spell over the space.
He stretched, his legs extending and his toes spreading, before curling back up against Master. Peter had his head pillowed on Master’s strong thigh, the soft material of his sweatpants felt nice against his cheek as he nuzzled. Master chuckled, his hand coming down to run through Peter’s hair, careful of the nanite ears that sat atop his head. Peter glanced up, but Master was still reading something on his StarkPad, but that was okay, Peter was kind of tired anyway. Maybe just a quick nap.
“Pete? Kitten, c’mon.” Master’s soft deep voice pulled Peter from his slumber. “Wake up for me, there’s a good boy.”
Peter stretched again, toes spreading as he made a small whine as his muscles tensed. He looked up at Master once he was relaxed, a small smile on his lips.
“It’s dinner time, kitten, are you hungry?” Master stroked his cheek softly and Peter hummed contently. He loved moments like this. Moments where he got to just be warm and happy and close to Tony, to his Master.
Peter nodded his head, and moved to sit up, the small bell on his collar jingling with the movement. “Can we have sushi, Master?”
Master laughed, smiling. “Of course, kitten. Fri?” He turned his attention to the AI. “Order us our usual, and add in a couple extra orders of salmon roll for my little kitten.”
Peter beamed, happy that his Master knew his taste so well. He loved salmon rolls!
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Bah Humbug
This is an early holiday transitory one to help you move along from your craving for that distinct autumn smell to all things wintery! Originally set to be a feel-good drabble for @the-blind-assassin-12​ just because I adore her, it kind of got away from me and turned into a full-on one-shot! Special thanks to @something-tofightfor​ for taking the time to read and critique. Enjoy this big ball of fluff, courtesy of our very own Ryan Brenner!
No trigger warnings here, rated Disney movie G.
Word count: 2119
Tag list: @dylanobrusso​ @obscurilicious​ @the-blind-assassin-12​ @something-tofightfor​ @ms-delos​ @madamrogers​ @lexxierave​ @agent-bossypants​ @yannii04​ @gollyderek​ @carlaangel86​ @poindexted​ @maydayfigment​ @thisisparadisemylove​ @ladyofnaps​ 
If you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list, just shoot me an ask! Hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading!
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You hated Christmas carols. 
There was no valid reason behind it, but you loathed them, you didn’t want to hear about jingling bells, or sleigh bells ringing. You’d learned long ago that Santa Claus was always in town in the form of your parents and you were over hearing about a make-believe reindeer being bullied. And Frosty the Snowman? All snowmen melt. It’s science. Snow itself was something you never felt up to dealing with, and people wrote songs about wishing for it?! What idiots. 
The biggest predicament regarding Christmas carols was that they could not be avoided starting the first of November. Ghouls and goblins and an infinite amount of Avengers and Frozen Princesses were immediately traded in for ugly sweaters and Santa hats. It was American culture and you didn’t mind it…it was what came along with it that made you a Grinch. You couldn’t watch any TV without being harassed with commercials including some type of carol, and forget shopping. You were assaulted the moment you stepped inside a too-warm department store. You’d only run inside for three items, and upon stepping into the door, you steeled yourself for the inevitability. It would be a quick trip, in and out. 
Except the store was congested with so many people, your usual long strides you reserved for these kinds of atrocities was reduced to a slow, staggered creeping. The only thing worse than Christmas carols was Christmas carols playing when surrounded by people. 
You were in Hell. 
Finally, you were able to reach the shampoo aisle, a blaring speaker anchored to the ceiling directly above your head. It was impossible to tune the music out, and Frank Sinatra began crooning about being home for Christmas. But only in my dreams. It was one carol that brought a rush of warmth and comfort into your heart, followed by a pang of longing and a vivid memory. You missed him. 
*** *** ***
Summer had turned to autumn without you noticing. The air was cooler, less humid.  The days had grown shorter and there was a  buzz in the air. Sandals and sundresses were replaced with boots and scarves, and fuzzy socks became an indoor necessity. You knew this wasn’t just a cool snap when you heard leaves crunching beneath your feet as you reached your front porch, eyes scanning your yard quickly. How hadn’t you noticed until that moment that your grass had been blanketed in leaves in varying shades of fire:  rich auburn, burnt orange, golden yellow. Pausing as you looked, you heard a scuffling coming from behind your home, and you walked carefully around the perimeter of your home. A smile illuminated your face and adoration squeezed in your chest. Autumn leaves were gathered into two large piles, and Ryan was raking the remainder of what was left into a third heap as you approached him. 
“What are you doing, Ryan Brenner?” You tended to use his first and last name in situations like these, where you found him doing sweet things he never gave a second thought. His full name was beginning to replace the use of just ‘Ryan’ or, sometimes, just a shortened ‘Ry’. 
The rake he held in his hands stilled on the ground and he leaned his weight against it, his chest rising and falling quickly as he caught his breath. Raising his shoulders in a shrug, he glanced around your cleared back yard before his eyes landed on you, nothing but you. “Yard work.” 
His answer was quick and simple, obvious, and you laughed, the crunching of dead leaves under your feet ceasing as you walked closer and greeted him with a quick kiss, followed by one that you lingered in. “You’re supposed to be visiting, relaxing. Not doing my yard work,” you teased. “
You know I can’t stay still for long,” he smiled. Yes, all too well.  The thought alone gifted him with another kiss. “I’m sweatin’, Y/N,” he said in his his slight Southern drawl. He wiped at his forehead with the back of one hand, the other still supporting the rake. “
“Hmm, seems like I don’t care much, doesn’t it?” You pecked at his lips once more in a playful fashion. “Can the mention of food coerce you inside?” You raised your brows and caught his startling dark eyes with yours, walking backward for a few paces before turning around to retreat indoors. You had leftovers to heat up.  
*** *** ***
After dinner was eaten and the dishes were set out to dry, you opted to change while Ryan cleaned up with the help of a hot, steamy shower. You slipped out of your clothes and pulled on a soft pair of pants, an oversized sweatshirt you loved to sleep in, and a warm pair of wool socks. Settling onto the couch with a book, you sat sideways, your back against the sofa’s arm. You heard Ryan’s footsteps against the old wooden floor before you saw him. Yet when you did, your book was forgotten as you let your eyes linger over his form. His dark, overgrown hair was wet, brushed back from his forehead. Low on his hips were a worn pair of sweatpants, his feet bare and a t-shirt covering his upper half, and he was holding his guitar. You’d barely opened your book, but you closed it and set it aside, raising your brows and offering him a smile. 
“What’s the occasion?” you nodded at the guitar. Ryan chuckled and bent to kiss your hair before crossing the room and settling on the hearth. You knew better than to start a fire; it was something Ryan had unofficially made his duty when he was in town. You’d opted to use the heater for quick warmth when the two of you came inside. 
“Just another day, Y/N,” Ryan said with a smile. You couldn’t remember a day you hadn’t seen Ryan without a guitar on his lap or heard music wafting from another room; there probably hadn’t been a music-free day since you’d known him. “Got somethin’ special for you.”
You gave him your full attention as his tattooed fingers of his left hands settled on the strings and right hand began strumming. The tune sounded vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t until he started singing that you nodded in recognition, just before groaning in protest. Ryan only smiled, continuing on seamlessly with his rendition of “I’ll Be Home For Christmas”. He knew Christmas carols weren’t your favorite, but he also knew that you wouldn’t mind as much so long as he was the one playing. 
The scowl didn’t stay on your face for long, however. Ryan had chose that particular song for a reason. You knew the time was coming for him to chase the trains again, just as the weather was getting colder and the first snow of the season was looming on the horizon. By the time the song came to an end, there was only a look of understanding on your face as Ryan’s eyes met yours, and he set his guitar aside. Swinging your legs over the side of the couch, you made your way across the room to perch on his lap and kissed his forehead before looking down at him, smiling halfway through your disappointment at his leaving soon. “I hated it.”
*** *** ***
 It had taken a full half an hour to grab a bottle of shampoo and a box of hot cocoa and pay for your items. You’d planned a full grocery shop, but every aisle in the store was congested with last-minute shoppers and you had far exceeded your Christmas cheer quota for the day. Ordering pizza for delivery had never sounded like a better idea, and by the time you made your trek through the parking lot, the last minutes of sunlight had passed. It was a full moon, the heavy clouds illuminated by the moonlight. They were ominous, a promise of snowfall at any given moment. It couldn’t be a more picture-perfect Christmas Eve, straight out of a mass-printed Rockwell painting. You idly remembered stacking more firewood beside the fireplace the night before, and mentally thanked yourself for a job well-done. If you didn’t have such a thick blanket of dead leaves between your driveway and the door, you’d make a run for it.
When you pulled into the drive and put your car in park, a small light caught your eye and your brow furrowed. During the time in your childhood where you had been certain you’d grow up to be an entomologist, you read ravenously and absorbed as much information as possible, most of which you remembered. You knew that fireflies hibernate in winter, and just as the thought jogged your memory, you saw the flicker again. Chalking it up to some form of reflection thanks to the light of the moon, you pulled your keys from the ignition, threaded your arm through the handles of the plastic bag that held your purchase, and steeled yourself for the assault of the frigid air. 
While making your beeline for the door, your vision caught another flicker of light, this one brighter and and not as brief. “What the…” you whispered under your breath, trying to decide whether to keep your pace steady or go against all common sense and make a run for it. Could this day get any worse? Could Christmas possibly be more of a pain in the ass? 
As you briskly approached your home, you squinted against the darkness and could vaguely make out a figure lounging on your porch steps. You’d remembered firewood, but you hadn’t remembered to leave a light on, and you were certain that this was it. You’d be starring in your very own television special, featured as the frozen corpse found in the snow just outside your home, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or scream when you heard a voice.
“Merry Christmas, darlin’.” 
You froze for a moment, mouth dropping open. You’d recognize that deep tenor and slight drawl anywhere. A light thud sounded as you dropped your bag in surprise, and you bent quickly to pick it back up. You made a run for it the rest of the way as Ryan stubbed out a half-smoked cigarette. There was your firefly.
Throwing your arms around him, you squeezed your eyes shut. “How was…?”
“Raleigh,” he reminded you, holding you close. He gently swayed back and forth, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “Lotta places to set up and play. Nice, mild weather.” He pulled back to look at you, his face holding a serious expression. “Not enough firewood for kindlin’. Not enough people honest enough to tell me when they hate my songs.”
You laughed, taking a step back and lacing your fingers with his. “If you’re itching to start a fire, you’re in for a treat. And I bought cocoa, the instant kind with the little marshmallows.” You shrugged apologetically, scrunching your nose as he reached for his pack and slung his guitar case over his shoulder. “I was wallowing. I couldn’t stand to walk around that store long enough to buy anything more than I had to, so instant cocoa it was.” You paused as you slid your keys in the lock, hurrying inside and ushering Ryan in as you flipped on the light switch. “Not to mention the Christmas carols.” Dramatically, you put on a fake shudder.
He shook his head wryly as he set down his things, gifting you a smile as he took the few steps to close the distance between you. Sliding his hands up and down your arms, his smile softened as he searched your face, pink from the cold. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly, leaning in and ducking his head to press a kiss to your lips. “I told you I’d be home for Christmas.”
Home. You weren’t one to dwell on the semantics of things, but with Ryan, you knew they mattered. He didn’t say he’d be here for Christmas or back for Christmas; he said he’d be home for Christmas, and here he was. There was nothing in that moment that could bring you down, everything in the world feeling perfect. The warm body next to yours was one the thing that you wanted, more than anything else in the world. 
“Merry Christmas, Ryan.” You finally returned the sentiment, closing your eyes for a few beats as you leaned your forehead against his. “Can I ask for a favor?”
He moved his forehead from yours, looking down at you with his dark, warm eyes. There was a glimmer there on the surface, and it warmed your heart. Ryan looked happy, and there was nothing quite like it. 
“Anything.” 
You grinned impishly, reaching up to pull his cap from his head, running your fingers through his thick hair for good measure. “Give me your best version of Jingle Bells.”
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Passing Through
Part One: Looks Like Snow 
A/N: Well. Here I am attempting to write for Ryan Brenner. This started out as a cute little one shot for @banditthewriter ‘s trope challenge, with the prompt of “spilling coffee on a stranger” and then one thing let to another and a whole plot line the length of my arm unfurled and here we are. So. Without further ado, I invite you along on this mile high musical adventure. 
Word Count: 3,862
Warnings: none. it’s fluff. all fluff and nothin but the fluff so help me fluff. 
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You’d been awake already when the first few rays of sunlight filtered through the vertical shades, reaching for you like fingers to tangle in your hair. With a sigh and a stretch you tossed the sheets aside and sat up, pinching the bridge of your nose. You’d pulled a double shift down at Jake’s yesterday, trading with Missy so you’d have off today, and you hadn’t gotten in until after 2am. As tired as you were, you knew you wouldn’t be sleeping, not through the night anyway. Too many memories running on a loop, too many songs playing in your head. It’s how it always was on this day. It’s how you knew it always would be. Absently, you ran the overstretched, frayed collar of the old tie dye tee you wore between your thumb and fingers, the soft, threadbare fabric bringing you comfort like it always did.
She’d been something of a hippie, your mom, and while you were growing up you didn’t understand why she couldn’t just make cupcakes for school bake sales or volunteer as your Girl Scout leader, why a carpool had to include sing-a-longs to songs your friends didn’t know, or why she’d show up to parent teacher meetings in ripped denim and layers of long necklaces, hair down and free and wild. But as you’d gotten older, into your college years, you started to understand her better. You appreciated her free spirit, and her encouragement of your own. Yeah sure, from time to time you’d open the fridge and there’d be nothing but a head of lettuce or some obscure ingredients she’d meant to use in a recipe she’d  gotten from her friend who’d just returned from India. Sometimes you’d come home to find her cross legged out on the back porch with a ukulele or guitar, strumming while rusty brown oak leaves fluttered down to stick in her hair, not realizing how chilly it’d gotten until you were draping a crocheted blanket around her shoulders. You’d sit on the edge of the lawn chair, thumping your thigh along with the last bars of whatever tune she was playing, and if you knew the words you’d join in, her teeth flashing in a wide smile as she sang. She was unconventional, creative and carefree. Sometimes that made things difficult, but she’d taught you far more than she’d held you back in any way, taught you far more important lessons than how to make lasagna or what setting on the dryer wouldn’t shrink your sweaters. She’d taught you how to laugh things off and when to say “fuck it”. You missed her every single day. But today you ached a little more. You raked a hand through your long unruly hair- her hair, on your head- and stood from the bed.
By 8:30am you were dressed and had slogged down a cup of coffee. It was late February, but the winter weather in Colorado was as wild and unpredictable as the landscape or the sky. “Yeah, we have all four seasons- sometimes in one day.” You’d heard some form of that phrase since you’d moved out this way. The weather, 300 days of sunshine,  had been a draw for Kevin, and part of the reason he’d chosen the destination. But he was gone and you were here and even though the sun was warm, the air was brisk, and despite the lack of clouds in the cerulean sky, you knew there was always a strong likelihood of snow. You shoved your feet into ankle high brown leather boots before lacing them up over your jeans, grabbed a chartreuse knit hat and stuffed your curls beneath it, and slung your cross-body bag over your your shoulder.
The day was yours, to spend with your thoughts and your memories, and you weren’t going to stay caged inside these empty walls. You cast your eyes over your living room; carpet slightly faded in the spot where the sofa had lived for the last four years, black wrought iron fireplace tools standing at attention next to a hearth that hadn’t been lit in ages, the hook for your keys the only thing that remained hung. You grabbed them, the little pewter elephant charm slipping between your fingers, cold from the draft that came through the front door. This hasn’t been home for a while, you thought, if it ever was at all. Strangely, the thought didn’t bother you. What bothered you was that you didn’t know where home was anymore. Pushing that thought to the back of your mind to unpack another day, you sniffed and adjusted your hat with one fingerless-gloved hand, and headed out.
You took the trail behind your apartment that ran along the South Platte River, a mile or so to the light-rail station in town. You were only one town over from the Denver city-limits, but Littleton felt as small and secluded as any tiny mountain village, and it was one of the things that you both loved and hated about where you were staying- it was too easy to get stuck here. The trail gave way to the town’s main street and you passed Jake’s Brew Bar where Missy would be opening up for you in a few hours, and inTea, the boutique tea shop, and Penzy’s the bulk spice marketplace. Nothing was open yet, storefronts all darkened and sleepy. You walked toward the rail station, the rising sun behind you throwing light at the mountains, shining in their purple majesty. It was a beautiful morning to honor the beautiful memory of your mother, and you would do so by partaking in one of her favorite hobbies- making free music for strangers and expressing your soul in the process. You boarded the light rail and rode it the 5 or so stops to the Denver Convention Center, passing beneath the giant blue bear statue, and turned toward Blake Street, heading for the 16th Street Mall and that painted piano that awaited you- after stopping in at Caribou for an obligatory second cup of java.
You got in line behind two men, one in a sleek charcoal gray suit with a thick, black wool pea coat, cell phone clutched tightly in high- end gloves,  the other carrying a guitar on his back and wearing dark, broken in denim pants and a light brown canvas coat that looked like it had seen more winters than the man who wore it. You smiled as the more casual of the two ordered his drink- a small, black coffee to go. His voice was warm, like cinnamon, and it played into the melody of his surroundings; the hiss of the espresso machine, porcelain mugs clinking together as a twenty-something with headphones on emptied the dishwasher, the bell above the door as another couple of patrons came chattering in from the bright morning. You heard the man’s charming twang as he thanked the barista with a tip of his hat and the jingling sound of a few coins dropping into the jar on the counter. He stepped over to the side of the shop where there was a station set up for milks, sweeteners and other toppings and add-ins, and you heard him humming to himself as he tore open a sugar packet and shook its contents into his coffee.
The suit was barking his order to the girl behind the counter, making sure that she knew that the last time he came to Caribou Coffeehouse, his order was wrong and that if it happened again he wouldn’t be back and he’d make a formal complaint on the corporate website because how hard can it be to follow an order and make a drink? You rolled your eyes and scoffed to yourself. As a bartender, you knew the type. Six figure salary, needs to wear at least four of those figures at all times so that everyone knows where they stand around them, and equates everyone around them to their job title because that’s how they feel about themselves. The contrast between this boardroom bozo and the kind natured music man stirring sugar into his coffee could not have been more stark. You couldn’t be sure, but you thought you caught a smirk from under the hat and behind the patchy beard of the canvas clad stranger as you showed your distaste for the rudeness the suit was showing the barista.
You were up next, the bozo back on the phone as he waited next to you for his complicated order to be filled. You ordered a simple medium coffee with room for milk, and gave the girl a wink of solidarity as you tucked a couple singles into her tip cup. She smiled appreciatively at you and punched your frequent buyers card three extra times so that your next one would be free. You told her to have a nice day, and turned towards the milk station, removing the lid from your cup. But the suit had just been handed his beverage, and he stepped in front of you cutting you off. You tried to catch yourself but you were already in motion, and you collided with the man, spilling most of your coffee on the back of his coat. You gasped and jumped back, trying to keep more of the dark brown liquid from escaping your cup, but it was too late; the damage had been done, and the man stiffened his shoulders before turning around with a scowl. “Are you kidding me?” He spat the words at you, his face going red with anger.
You immediately grabbed a fist full of napkins from the dispenser and thrust them in the direction of the man’s wildly gesturing hands. “I am so sorry, sir,” you said sincerely. He may be a rude asshole but you honestly didn’t mean to throw your coffee at him.
“You can’t watch where you’re going?” he ignored your apology, ignored your offering of white paper napkins, and continued to sneer down at you.
The barista glanced nervously over from where she was helping the two customers who had come in behind you, clearly observing that the encounter was escalating past her paygrade. You waved her off indicating that you were okay and her relieved sigh could be heard over the drip of the new pot she was brewing. “Sir, really, I am sorry. Trust me, I’m just as upset as you are,” you tried to joke with him like you might with a customer at Jake’s. “I needed that coffee a lot more than your coat did.”
“Do you even know what this coat costs?” he asked coldly, removing the jacket to inspect the spill. “More than you make in a month I’d wager.”
“Look, it’s a nice coat. I spilled coffee on it. I’m really sorry. If you’ll let me I’ll pay for the dry cleaning. Here, let me give you my number and-” you were really trying your hardest not to curse the man out, calling on your mom’s ability to kill with kindness. You’d never mastered it like she had, though, and it was taking everything in you.
He scoffed. “Even that would probably be more than you could afford,” he looked you up and down: yesterday’s jeans, mud caked boots, two cable knit sweaters layered over one another and a handmade, multicolored scarf wrapped three times around your neck that matched neither your hat nor your gloves. He wasn’t interested in an apology or an offer to amend things. He only wanted to remind you of how much higher than you he had climbed. You let out a frustrated huff and were about to try one more time, when another pair of mud caked boots appeared in your line of sight.  
“S’cuse me sir, but the lady said she was sorry,” he took a step closer to the suit, closing the lid on his cup. He brought his thumb to his lips to suck a drop of coffee from it and shrugged. “Accidents happen, y’know?” You watched his hand fall back to his side, noticing the inked lines of small tattoos on the digits between knuckles. You gave him a grateful half smile for stepping in, as the two patrons behind you took the long way around the three of you to get to the milk station.
The suit turned to the other man and directed his venom at him. “Mind your business,” he barked.
The other man’s warm spiced eyes narrowed and darkened just a touch, and your breath caught as you watched his tongue dart out of his mouth and back between his lips before he responded. “Pardon me sir, but I’m makin’ this my business. Now, she apologized, so either let her pay for your cleanin’ or move along so these nice people can get their coffee.” He wasn’t aggressive, not by any means, nor did he seem threatening. He was simply sincere, and that sincerity seemed to unsettle the suit. The bozo grumbled under his breath about how he wished his company would move to the other side of the city, away from the bums of the 16th Street Mall, but, throwing one last disgusted look at you and the sincere stranger in front of you, he left the coffeehouse and brought his negativity with him.
The barista passed you another cup of coffee, on the house, and held out a handwritten ticket for a free small coffee to the hero who rid Caribou of that obnoxious asshole, which he accepted with a shy smile, tucking it into an inner pocket of his coat. “Thank you, ma’am, I’ll be back another mornin’ then,” he nodded and the girl smiled brightly before turning back to the line of patrons, all of which had just witnessed the scene and none of whom were sympathetic to bozo’s coffee covered pea coat. He turned back to the small table that he’d been walking towards before getting involved, and you saw a small black plastic flip phone plugged into the wall behind the table. He picked it up and opened it, checking to see how much the battery had charged.
You finished pouring almond milk into your coffee, stirring it with a thin wooden stick before dropping it into the trash and turning towards where the man stood holding his phone. “Hey,” you said with a small grin. He blinked and gave you his attention as soon as the word left your lips, and you were struck by the silence in his soft eyes, by the way that they shone against his slightly tanned, slightly windburnt skin. Oh, wow. You cleared your throat and let out a little laugh. “Hey, um, thanks. That guy was a jerk,” you rolled your eyes and he nodded, smile climbing up one side of his warm face. “You didn’t have to do that. Most people wouldn’t.”
“Don’t mention it,” he answered. “And I did have to do that…” he shook his head. “People like that, they forget,” he closed the phone in his hand with a snap and reached down to unplug the cord, winding it and tucking both items into another inner pocket of his coat.
“Forget what?” you asked, unable to tear your eyes from him.
He looked back up at you as if amazed that you were still there talking to him. His mouth dropped open just a bit before his came back together in a smile. “Forget that they’re no better’n the rest of us.” He dried the spilled coffee on his hands by brushing them off on his pants. “Well,” he adjusted the straps of his guitar case on his shoulders. “You have a nice day, ma’am.”
You spoke your name without realizing it, suddenly overcome with a want to share it with him. He looked at you, eyes shining again as his top lip twitched upwards. “Ryan,” he said, extending his hand. You took it, immediately feeling the callouses and little cuts on his fingers from the abuse of the strings. “Pleasure to meet you.” He dropped your hand too soon and you squeezed it closed, trying to hold onto the feeling of his well-used fingers wrapped around yours.
“Likewise,” you didn’t usually make small talk with people you just bumped into, but something compelled you to keep opening your mouth. Your eyes fell on the neck of the guitar case sticking up over his shoulder. “So, you got a gig somewhere today?” You raised your coffee laden hand to indicate his instrument.
If his eyes shone before they sparkled now and he cast them downward, grin growing as he lifted them back to your face. “Nah, not in so many words,” he looked toward the window, out at the bright blue sky that was just visible over the tops of trees and buildings, at the way the morning light caught the flecks of silicon and metal in the sidewalk, sparkling with the magic of the mundane as people walked over it without noticing. “Just gonna go out there’n play.”
You shook your head and let out a surprised little breath. “What?” he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.
“It’s just,” you laughed again at the serendipity of it all and heard your mom’s voice as she gushed about how much she loved that word- the stars don’t just align every day, Junebug, she’d say, using her nickname for you, her summer child, so when they do you better take note. “Just... that’s what I came down here to do today, too.” You took a sip of your coffee, the nutty aroma filling your nostrils as the piping hot liquid slid down your throat, warming you from the inside out.
“Yeah?” he asked, beaming at you. “You play?” his eyes darted around as though looking for a guitar or banjo or something that he’d missed. “What do you play?”
You winked. “Piano.”
His smile widened and his curiosity grew. “Piano? You got one in your pocket or somethin’?” He pointed in the general direction of your pockets and you laughed.
“Nah, left my pocket piano at home today,” you answered, patting down your jeans with your free hand as though looking for something that you had misplaced. He chuckled and it was one of the most joyous sounds you’d ever heard. You knew nothing about this man, but you could tell that everything he said, whatever he felt and the things he expressed, all of it was completely genuine, 100% authentic. He seemed incapable of faking a reaction or an emotion, and it was one of the most refreshing interactions you’d ever had in your life.
“Then, where…” he tilted his head and wrinkled his nose to show his confusion.
“Follow me, if you’re curious,” you headed towards the door and he followed, arm coming from behind you to hold it open for you as you stepped outside. You thanked him and he fell into step beside you. You noticed that he kept his eyes up and that they were always flitting from one thing to the next- he’d hear a bird or the beep of a horn and he’d turn in the direction of the sound, always alert and present and eager to absorb what was happening around him, a true artist. “So, you ever play on 16th Street before?” you asked, making conversation as you walked the 4 or so streets down to the garden block.
“Can’t say that I have. It’s my first time in Denver, just got in this mornin’. Heard it was a good spot for music, though.”
“It is,” you answered with an emphatic nod, and he smiled, happy that the information he’d been given had been confirmed. “So you’re not from around here then if this is your first time in Denver,” you stated.
“Nah, just passin’ through,” he said with a shrug. When he lifted his shoulders the light hit his brown hair where it was sticking out from under his cap at the right angle, showing off some golden tones that you knew came from spending so much time under the sun. “How ‘bout you, you from here?”
You thought back to your empty apartment and how you couldn’t call it home. “No,” you said, slightly distracted. “No, I guess you could say I’m passing through, too.” You were thankful to have reached the garden block, a small fenced area with concrete flower boxes that overflowed with color in the spring and summer, metal cafe tables and chairs with chess boards painted on them, and your favorite thing about 16th Street- a shabby, beaten up old upright piano that was painted with different colors and patterns every time you made it down this way. Today it was a deep red with purple swirls and black lettering that read “Denver Makes Music Happen”. You spread your arms wide as you stepped to the side so Ryan could see the piano. “Ta-da,” you announced.
He ran his hand over the top of it, feeling the layers upon layers of paint before attending to the keys. It needed tuning, like it always did, but you smiled as his fingers danced over the ivory. “So you play piano, too, huh?” you asked with a smirk. He looked over to you and nodded, and again you were dumbstruck by his eyes and the quiet calm that seemed to come from them. “Some people get all the talent,” you joked, sitting down at the piano and cracking your knuckles.
He dipped his head as he shrugged the guitar case from his back, sitting on one of the concrete flower boxes and setting the case down by his feet. “I can play the piano,” he said, unbuckling the snaps, “but this is my first love,” he opened the case and the way his eyes lit up with they fell on the shiny wooden guitar made it clear that there was nothing in the world that he loved more. He picked it up gingerly, setting it on his knee, strumming over the strings as you warmed up on the piano. “You…” he removed his hat to run a hand over his hair anxiously before pulling it back over his head. “You wanna play together for a while? I always like meetin’ musicians wherever I go… I like playin’ with people from all different places.” It was an earnest invitation, and you were eager to accept.
You looked up at the sky- still clear and empty- and then turned West, looking down the 16th Street Mall towards the mountains in the distance. Over the jagged tops of the Rockies hung a heavy shelf of cloud that made the sky look closer than it was and meant snow was undoubtedly going to make an appearance at some point, despite the warm sunshine that made you shed one of your two sweaters as you answered him. “Sure,” you started playing a folk song, one your mom used to force on you and your friends growing up that you’d learned to love. “We can play until the weather turns.” You cocked your head towards the snow cloud shelf. “Looks like snow soon.”
.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  
@something-tofightfor @my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @benbarnestongue @banditthewriter 
please let me know if you want on or off this train (ha ha) 
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maximoffvizh · 5 years
Text
fic: every witch needs a familiar
post-endgame fic born out of a conversation on twitter, sam and wanda friendship ft. a kitten
The apartment echoes with emptiness. Not her apartment, not yet. Just a collection of rooms with only the most basic furniture, only blinds over the windows instead of curtains. A world of blank walls and empty shelves, and her hollowed out self at the centre of it all, quiet and alone. She may have signed the papers and paid the first few months’ rent, but this isn’t her home. She can’t imagine how it ever will be.
A knock at the door forces her up from the couch, her socked feet padding over the floors, and she steps back in amazement at Sam outside the door, surrounded by bags and boxes. “What are you doing here?” she asks, and he just grins.
“Thought I’d help christen the new place,” he says. “So I bought dinner, wine, and a variety of snacks. But first we’re going to personalise the place. I went to IKEA for you.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, watching him just move past her. Unpacking more than just dinner and snacks onto the counter, plastic cartons of fruit and cartons of eggs and bottles of milk and bags of pasta and packages of ready-to-cook vegetables and boxes of tea bags. “Sam?”
“There are many things you don’t know about me, Wanda Maximoff,” he says with an enigmatic smile. “Before I got caught up in superhero shenanigans, I wanted to go back to school and become an interior designer. So I went to IKEA, and I used a red theme to pick things out. I tried to stay neutral other than that, so the red pops.”
Somehow, his grin drags her along into helping to make her apartment more of a home. He hangs the grey curtains at her windows, plumps cushions on the couch and her bed, and she almost bursts into tears when he sets a guitar in her living room. “I took the liberty of hunting down a similar one,” he says, and she puts a hand to her mouth to hide her trembling lip. “See. You can make this place a home.”
“But he’s not here,” she says softly. Sadly. And Sam slips an arm around her waist and kisses her temple, squeezing her tightly.
“I know,” he says, and opens the flap of one last box. “I also, ah, took the liberty of hunting down some memories for you. This was the best I could do since the compound was destroyed.”
She does tear up when she pulls out the first frame, the official photograph of the New Avengers team taken in 2015. Natasha’s frozen, touchingly proud face makes the first tear fall, and she ghosts a fingertip gently over Vision’s awkward smile, her chest aching with the need to have his arms around her again. Every frame is perfect, photographs of her with Clint’s children, with Steve and Natasha and Sam, with Vision. The memories of the life she’s left behind. “Thank you,” she breathes through tears, and Sam just smiles.
“You’re always welcome, Maximoff,” he says, and breaks away as she stares into a picture Vision took of the two of them on a beach somewhere in Europe, his hair falling over his sunglasses and freckles breaking out on her cheeks, her lips pressed to his cheek. “I bought mac and cheese. Even remembered to add some spice for you.”
They settle down on the couch with dinner and wine, and she finds herself relaxing into it, just a little. Even if when Sam leaves the shadows creep up again and she can’t sleep for the nightmares and she sits in the bathroom in the middle of the night shaking and crying, when he’s there she can relax. She can know he’ll take care of her.
Somehow, it turns into a weekly ritual. No matter what Sam is doing, what he’s dealing with out in the real world now the mantle of Captain America has passed to him, every Friday night he turns up at her door. Usually with a new knick knack for her apartment in one hand, and dinner in the other. Fairy lights to wrap around the curtain pole in her room, a pasta machine, a new houseplant, a record player including a few of his favourite records from before she was born. He chooses something mindless and uplifting on Netflix, and they sit on the couch and eat quietly.
She makes the mistake of telling him how much she’s struggling to sleep, and he appears at the door with a stack of lavender products, telling her they’re supposed to help her sleep. She confesses that she doesn’t want to go back to dark hair, and he helps her re-dye hers, even cleaning up the murder scene her bathroom becomes under the red dye. He shows her how to make bread, and she pretends not to notice that he never leaves her with any leftover wine for fear that she’ll use it to cope. He gently asks if she thinks she should see a therapist, and she shakes her head and they leave it at that.
Over the months, she thought it would get easier. But it’s been six months, and it never has. She still wakes up every morning in a cold bed, missing Vision, wishing she could just reach for him like she used to be able to. When Sam doesn’t come to see her, she eats leftovers, or nothing. She spends sleepless nights listening to love songs, the words of them eating her up inside, beautiful words she never said to Vision. She wasn’t brave enough.
Tucked into a heavy jumper, reading one of the books that Laura sent her after she cleared out the shelves at the farmhouse, she doesn’t bother to move when the doorbell rings. It’s Friday night, six thirty, and Sam has a key, and she can hear him opening the door, moving around behind her. Then she starts violently when he pulls the book out of her hands and replaces it with a tiny ball of brown fluff that lets out a squeak of a sneeze and blinks blue eyes at her.
“Sam?” she asks, twisting to look at him, hands instinctively cradling the kitten. “Why is there a kitten in my apartment?”
“Well, here’s the thing,” Sam says, turning the dial to pre-heat her oven and dusting his hands off to pull a food bowl and a litter tray and a bag of litter and an assortment of toys out of a bag. “I was at the shelter this week, because Barnes is thinking about getting a dog and he’s got it in his head that he wants a rescue and I grew up with dogs so I’ve obviously offered to lend my expertise in helping him choose the right one. And I was chatting to the girl there, being my usual charming self, and she recognised me and said I must know a lot of people in need of some animal companionship. So I said I did, but not all of them have the space for a big running dog like Barnes wants. So she showed me the kittens, and that little guy just caught my eye.”
The kitten presses his paws into Wanda’s chest, leaving pale hairs on the red wool of her sweater, and she cradles him a little closer, feeling his tiny thin body shivering beneath her hands. “What happened to him?” she asks, a rush of protectiveness rising in her at this tiny powerless little thing that needs someone to help.
“His mom got hit by a car,” Sam says. “Tragic accident. And they were a litter of five, and most of them got adopted quickly. He was the runt, and he never pushed to the front and purred. She thinks he needs a special someone to look after him. Someone who’s been hurt too.”
“I see where you’re going with this,” she says, and Sam smiles. And the kitten mews quietly, so high-pitched, kneading his paws into her shoulder, and she looks down into his huge eyes and feels herself melting. “I don’t know the first thing about looking after a cat.”
“Feed him, water him, make sure he’s scratching the post Uncle Sam got him and not the furniture, love him,” Sam says. “I even did some light Googling to check none of your plants are poisonous for cats. They’re not.”
“Sam, I...I can’t accept him,” she says, and the kitten mews when she moves him away from her, paws pulling at the air like he wants to get back to being cradled against her chest.
“I even bought him a collar with a bell on!” Sam says, shaking the length of red to jingle the tiny bell. “See, it’s to match you.” He moves towards her, the hum of the oven filling the silence, and carefully pushes her hands back to her chest, the kitten curling up against her with a contented sigh. “I know you’ve been going through it, Wanda. Don’t be too hard on yourself. You need a companion apart from me. Every witch needs a familiar.”
“Does he have a name?” she asks, and Sam shakes his head. She rubs two fingers carefully over the space between the kitten’s ears, his fur so soft, and asks, “What do you think about Hex?”
“I think that’s an adorable name for a witch’s familiar,” Sam says, and she smiles, suddenly teary-eyed. She moves Hex closer, and he chirps quietly, curling into her. “He’s going to look after you when I’m not here.”
“Sam,” she breathes, overwhelmed and trying not to cry. And Sam leans down to brush a kiss against the top of her head, and she ducks her head to hide the falling tears in Hex’s fur.
They eat dinner on the couch, Hex in her lap and staring at her with huge pleading eyes until she gives him a tiny piece of the salmon Sam made for them. When Sam leaves, taking the bottle of wine they only drank a little of with him, she means to start as she wants to go on, with Hex in a bed in the front room and not on her pillow. But he cries until she relents, and his tiny body curls into her in the bed, warming her the way it used to warm her to sleep plastered against Vision’s back.
When she wakes up in the middle of the night, breath coming in rapid-fire jerks after another nightmare, Hex is there. She cradles him carefully in her hands, and he purrs and butts his head against her face, his chest rising and falling beneath her hand. The motion of it soothing her slowly back to sleep.
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