#and these guys getting thrown in without any IC explanation is just another bit that I love | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peskygirl13 · 3 years

Note

MK SO-

I just got the Pokémon SWSH DLCs and I was wondering what it would be like for some legendary Pokémon to come to twst and cause some trouble(Legendarys I’d like to do ( you c an pick just one: Kyogre, Giratina, or Groudon)

If you can i want it to be just Diasomina!

This turned out longer than I expected and I got so mad with myself because I was almost done with writing this and I accidently deleted all my new work, so I had to start over from my last save point which is one of the reasons it took so long to post.

I’ve been binge playing the old Sinnoh games and rewatching the anime, so this was fun to write (despite me deleting my work).

This will have references to the Pokémon Platinum game, so spoilers if you haven’t played the game and plan to.

Hope you enjoy!

Malleus's favorite time of the day was night time. Night time was the best!

The world was at peace, it was quiet, everything was asleep, save for a few nocturnal creatures much like himself, he could hide from SIlver and Sebek and have some time to himself, and there were no students or humans who would see him and run away in terror.

But his favorite thing about night time was probably when he got to visit his favorite human, (Y/n).

Their situation was a bit odd, having appeared out of nowhere from a world full of creatures called Pokémon, but Malleus didn't care. They weren't afraid of him. After spending a lifetime of having people fear him due to his name, it was a nice change.

Malleus arrived at the Ramshackle dorm to find you already sitting outside, cleaning your Empoleon's feathers.

"Greetings, Child of Man." He greeted, happily walking up to you.

"Hey, Tsunotaro." You smiled, putting down Empoleon's brush to wave at him.

That was another thing Malleus adored about you. Even after finding out who he was, you still didn't fear him and continued calling him by that amusing nickname you gave him.

You both entered the dorm, along with Empoleon, and he was instantly greeted with the rest of your strange creatures. Luxray, Togekiss, Glaceon, Garchomp, and Lucario.

You headed over to the kitchen to make some tea while he got comfortable on the couch. Once he was seated, Garchomp laid its head on Malleus's lap, implying that it wanted scratches.

By the time you had returned with two mugs of steaming tea, all the other Pokémon had already gotten comfortable and most had fallen asleep.

You handed Malleus his mug before sitting down in your chair. Glaceon hopped up and curled up in your lap before falling back asleep.

After you both got comfortable, you began regaling Malleus with stories of your world.

Malleus loved hearing your stories.

From your gym battle challenges to your contests. Catching all your Pokémon and even receiving an egg from a woman named Cynthia that hatched into a Togepi that which layer evolved into your beloved Togekiss.

Malleus has never left the Valley of Thorns, except for school, so he enjoyed hearing about your travels. Your freedom to journey and see so many different places, never being tied down, he envied it.

“May I see your badges and ribbons again?” He asked.

“Sure.” You agreed, getting up to grab them.

At the movement, Glaceon, rather huffily, got up from your lap and moved to Malleus, curling up on his lap instead. He instantly started stroking her with one hand while the other continued scratching Garchomp. He only stopped when you handed him your badge and ribbon case.

He immediately opened them both and admired your impressive 7 badges and 5 sparkling ribbons.

You had told him that even though you had collected the required number of ribbons, you were transported to Twisted Wonderland before you could compete in the Grand Festival. You also hadn’t yet had the chance to earn your 8th and final gym badge, which allowed you to challenge the Elite Four and the Sinnoh Champion.

“They are very impressive, Child of Man.” Malleus complemented.

Even though there wasn’t a gym challenge or contests in Twisted Wonderland, Malleus could tell how much value each badge and ribbon you earned had.

“Thanks, Tsunotaro.” You beamed, positively preening at the complement. “Maybe when I find a way home you could come with me and have your own journey. There are a bunch of dragon type Pokémon I bet you’d like. Maybe your starter could be an Axew. Or a Dino. Maybe a Gible seeing how well you get along with Garchomp. There are also rock or electric types. OOH- Maybe a fairy type!”

Malleus tuned your rambling out. His head was both empty and racing.

Him? Go on a journey in another world? The idea was preposterous! Yet... also tempting.

Traveling around with no chains. Nobody knowing who he was, thus no one quivering at the sight of him. No overbearing, but well meaning, guards to coddle him. He liked this idea!

Unfortunately, he didn’t have long to dwell on the tempting daydream when Ramshakle’s door slammed open with a loud bang.

“WAKA-SAMA!!!”

Speak of the devil.

You and Malleus turned to the doorway to a disheveled and hysterical looking Sebek and a normal sleepy looking Silver.

“Sebek.” Malleus greeted, hiding his annoyance of being interrupted during his time with his Child of Man.

“Waka-sama, you mustn’t leave without telling us! What if something happens to y-”

The half-fae was cut off by and ice beam, freezing him solid. You and Malleus looked over at Glaceon who was angry about having her sleep disturbed for a third time. Now quite irritated and huffy, Glaceon angrily marched upstairs to try and get some sleep in your room.

“My apologies.” You jumped when Lilia appeared behind you without warning, hanging upside down as usual. “They ran off when I wasn’t looking.”

You looked back at the other Diasomnia residence. Silver had already fallen asleep, using Togekiss’s soft, feathery body as a pillow, while Sebek was slowly beginning to thaw out of the ice.

You wish you could say this is the weirdest thing to ever happen with them.

After having Lucario use force-palm and free Sebek, you all sat down near the fire.

(You left Silver be since he was already asleep.)

Sebek wanted to know what was so fascinating about you that Waka-sama would continuously come visit you.

The only thing you could think of was telling them about your journey.

“After I won my seventh gym badge at Snowpoint, I had to meet my friend, Barry, at Lake Acuity and right after that I had to meet with Professor Rowan and Lucas at Lake Verity.”

“Why did you have to go to those lakes?” Lilia asked, genuinely curious as to what value they had.

“Uh, well-- mmh-- pthbbt.” You tried to think of a way to avoid that question, or at least dance your way around it, and the stuttering and raspberry blowing was obviously helping you be discreet in avoiding the question.

“GLACE!!”

A loud yell echoed from upstairs thatw as loud enough to wake even Silver. You were momentarily grateful that you had been interrupted before realizing ‘Oh shit that’s my Pokémon.”

“Glaceon!” You yelled, bolting from your chair and rushing up the stairs with your Pokémon and the Diasomnia boys at your heels.

You opened your bedroom door with a loud bang and saw Glaceon in a defensive stance, hissing at the mirror with Grim looking frazzled.

“Fgaah! Minion, control your Pokémon! I was asleep and then it started shouting and tried to attack the mirror!” He yelled angrily, before stalking off to the living room to continue sleeping.

You sighed before looking over at the mirror. You held out your arm towards your Pokémon so they knew not to do anything yet. You inched closer to the mirror, pausing only for a second to pet Glaceon and calm her down a bit. You walked forward a few more steps until you were face-to-face with the mirror.

Now that you were closer, you could see the shadow of something moving within the glass. You didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t Micky. You leaned a bit closer, trying to make out the figure--

“GIRATINA!!”

Everything went black.

The first thing you noticed when you could see again was that you were clearly not in your room. Or your dorm for that matter.

Everything was weird. You weren’t sure of any other way to describe it other than weird.

Weird and familiar.

“The Reverse World.” You muttered, shocked by your sudden return to the feared Giratina’s playground.

You didn’t have long to stay dumbfounded when you remembered the Legendary who lived in this world. You frantically looked around you and saw that your team and the boys were with you, which did nothing to curb your panic. Grim wasn’t with you all, so you assumed hoped that he was still at Ramshackle.

You first woke up your Pokémon. They freaked out for a second before realizing where they were, putting them all on guard. They carefully scanned their surroundings for anything they found threatening while you quickly crawled over to the boys, traying to shake them awake.

“Get up. Guys, get up! We need to move!”

The Diasomnia boys hardly registered what was happening and where they were before you pulled them away. Your team created a barrier around you all as you lead the boys through the strange new world. All they could do was look around wildly.

“Careful, gravity gets weird here.” You warned them.

True to your words, the piece of land you all were walking on started to curve in the air until you all started walking upside down. Even Lilia, who was used to hanging upside down, was a bit thrown off about this.

“What is this place?” Silver asked what everyone was thinking, knowing that you were the only one who could give any of them an answer.

“The Distortion World.” You explained. “Also known as the Reverse World. It’s kind of like the Underworld of my world.”

That explanation only provided them with more questions but went they entered a place that had these large bubbles floating around them they were quickly distracted.

“Hey,” Silver called, gaining everyone’s attention. “This thing has headmaster Crowley in it.”

Said bubble did have a picture of Crowley in his office, working late into the night. Huh. Who know he actually did anything.

Silver raised a hand towards the bubble.

“No, don’t touch it!” You exclaimed. Unfortunately it was a second to late and the bubble popped at the slightest graze of Silver’s fingers.

The boys looked over to you at the sound of you yell, seeing your panicked expression.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” You order, stressing out each word. “Everything in this world effects the real world. If you aren’t careful you could kill someone through this place.

The boys looked positively alarmed.

“Will the headmaster be alright?”

You waved off their concern, continuing to lead the way. “He’ll be fine. Popping that bubble didn’t kill him, but it did feel like he was hit with a bowling ball.

“How do you know this? How do you know so much about this place, (Y/n).” Lilia asked, dead serious.

You glance over your shoulder at them before sighing.

Guess it was time to come clean.

“There are some things that happened during my journey that I didn’t tell you guys about.” You confessed.

“While journeying through Sinnoh, I constantly ran into an organization called Team Galactic. Their leader, Cyrus, believed that the world was ugly and needed to be destroyed. His plan was to capture the legendary Pokémon, Palkia and Dialga, and the Lake Guardians, Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf. Those three were the reason I met Barry and Professor Rowan at the lakes, Lilia, to try and save the Lake Guardians from Team Galactic. Anyway, Cyrus claimed that he was going to create his own, perfect world using the powers of the legendary Pokémon. At least I think that was his plan. He talks like Shakespeare and I have a middle school education. Anyway, before he could create his ‘perfect world’ Giratina appeared and took Cyrus away to here, the Distortion World. This is Giratina’s domain.”

The boys were stunned into silence. They knew you were strong, but for you to have done all that as well as fighting overblots? They were truly impressed.

“What happened afterwards?” Malleus questioned, enthralled by your story.

“Cynthia, the current Sinnoh Champion, and I entered the Distortion World to save Cyrus. Unfortunately, he saw this place as his ideal world and didn’t want to leave. In the end, we had to use force and I beat him in a battle. And, after that, I had to face Giratina itself. But, I don’t know how, but before I could face it, the Dark Mirror called me to Twisted Wonderland.”

You stopped walking, taking a deep breath before turning to face the boys.

“We need to find Giratina. Giratina’s the only Pokémon that can travel between worlds and its the only thing that can get us back to Night Raven.”

Your tone alone was enough to my the Diasomnia boys understand the severity of the situation.

“Human, if this creature is as powerful as you claim, then how do you expect to get it?” Sebek interrogated.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a purple ball with an ‘M’ on it, showing it the the boys.

“This is a master ball. I stole it from Cyrus’s base when I went to save the Lake Guardians. It can catch any Pokémon without fail. All we need to do is find Giratina.”

“Lucar!”

“Luxray!”

You all turned to Lucario and Luxray who were growling in the same direction. Looking closely, you could see something coming at you all. Your team took their battle stances and sure enough, there was the Angel of Darkness itself, Giratina.

Even Malleus had to admit, that creature was terrifying.

It looked like a dragon and centipede mixed together, but it towered over everything, easily dwarfing them all.

You waisted no time.

“Empoleon, Hydro Cannon!” You ordered. Even Sebek had to admit that your authoritative tone was hard to ignore and resist, full of confidence and superiority.

Empoleon listened without question, fearlessly attacking the towering giant.

“Lucario, Aura Sphere! Glaceon, Ice Beam! Luxray, Thunder! Garchomp, Dragon Rush!”

All your Pokémon attacked at once, hitting Giratina square on. The legendary screeched before firing a move of its own that your team narrowly avoided.

“Great job. Keep attacking!” You ordered shooing the boys out of Giratina’s firing range.

“What do we need to do to help, (Y/n)?” Malleus asked. He was already gripping his pen, ready to fight.

“Nothing. Just stay put and don’t move.” You ordered sternly. The boys were stunned.

“What?! (Y/n) we can help-”

“I know you can help,” You cut off. “But I don’t need to defeat Giratina. I just need to distract it.”

You ran off before they could question what you meant, whistling for your Pokémon.

“Togekiss!” You called, jumping off the edge of the land and easily getting caught by your flying type, who flew you behind Giratina.

You let your team get in one last group attack before throwing the master ball at Giratina.

The legendary effortlessly went in and after a spectacular dive made by you and Togekiss, you caught the ball and returned to the boys.

The boys ran over to you as you climbed off Togekiss, looking at the ball in your hand.

“I can’t believe you actually caught it, human!” Sebek exclaimed, flabbergasted.

“Thanks, Sebek.”

“So what now?” Silver asked. The group all turned to you expectedly and you rolled your eyes before turning around to the wide open space and releasing Giratina from the master ball.

“Giratina,” You called, “Please take us back.”

Giratina stared down at you before letting out an echoing screech and lowing its head to your level.

Immediately understanding what it wanted you to do, you crawled onto its head before waving the boys over.

“C’mon. We its going to take us back.”

Hesitantly, the boys climbed on with your Pokémon and once everyone was on, Giratina soared through the air.

This was different from riding a broom or riding Togekiss, who was happily flying beside you all, but it was exhilarating at the same time.

Too soon for anyone’s tastes, Giratina slowed down to a stop before lowering itself down so that everyone could climb off.

The place were Giratina dropped you all off was a small patch of land with two lakes on it. You and the boys could see your bedroom in one of the lakes, making you realize that you were looking through your bedroom mirror.

“Alright!” You cheered. “Let’s get back.” But before you could step through the reflection, Empoleon called out to you.

“Empoleon!”

“Huh? What is it, Empoleon?”

He was looking in the other lake, pointing at something.

You, your team, and the boys looked through the refection and you couldn’t restrain the gasp that left your mouth.

You could see the Mesprit, the guardian of Lake Verity.

“That’s Mesprit, Lake Verity’s guardian!” You exclaimed, coming to several realizations at once. “That’s close to Twinleaf Town. I-I could go home!”

You turned to your team and the Diasomnia boys, your eyes sparking with both joy and a few unshed tears. “With Giratina we can go home and still stay in Twisted Wonderland!”

Mallues watched you with soft eyes. He had seen a side if you tonight that he had never seen before. Your courage, your confidence, your skill. He had these too, but yours stemmed from experience. This wasn’t something you were taught since you were born like him, these were abilities you learned through trial and error with your team. Something that he wanted.

With a new found determination, Malleus turned to his most trusted knights and friends.

“Lilia, Silver, Sebek,” He began, quickly gaining everyone's attention, “I have decided that until it is time for me to receive the crown from my grandmother, I want to travel (Y/n)’s world with a Pokémon of my own.”

Even you weren’t expecting that announcement.

“WHAT?! WAKA-SAMA ARE YOU FEELING WELL?!?!? WE MUST GET YOU TO AN INFIMERORY!!”

“I’m fine, Sebek. And I’m not joking.”

“WHAAAAAAAT?!?! YOU, HUMAN, YOU HAVE GIVEN WAKA-SAMA THIS DANGEROUS IDEA!!”

“I think its a great idea.”

“MASTER LILIA?!?!”

“zzzzz”

You couldn’t help snorting at the scene in front of you. A rather calm Malleus simply being unmovable about his choice of coming home with you, a hysterical Sebek trying to talk him out of it, an impish looking Lilia who actually supported Malleus’s idea, and a snoozing silver, who could still sleep effortlessly despite the chaos surrounding him.

You leaned up against Empoleon’s belly, him and all your other Pokémon already lying down, knowing that this was going to take a while. Even Giratina was curled up!

But, You thought, watching the group was a soft smile, you know that no matter how much you wanted to go home, you would've missed this. And this, your friends and NRC, was something that you never wanted to lose.

Bonus:

After sorting everything out with Crowley, you returned to your world to reconcile with your friends and your mom. It took some explaining, but bringing Grim back with you as well as Malleus with his magic and horns was enough to convince everyone what happened to you.

Afterwards, you were able to compete in the Grand Festival. You didn’t end up winning, however you did make it to the finals. Your opponent, Dawn, had only beaten you by a few points.

The Diasomnia gang, as well as Grim, the Adeuce combo, and the Pomefiore Trio were all present to see this and couldn’t have been prouder.

Once the Grand Festival had come to a close, you headed over to Sunnyshore City and won your 8th and final Gym Badge, permitting you to challenge the Elite Four and Cynthia.

The Pomefiore Trio didn’t watch these challenges, but the other did.

Their nerves were through the roof when you finally faced Cynthia. And when your Garchomp miraculously out sped her Garchomp with the finishing move nobody cheered louder.

In the end, you took Malleus to the place where you caught Garchomp back when he was still a Gible and caught Malleus his own, whom he unironically named ‘Gargoyle.’

Malleus did have to return to the Valley of Thorns, but not without you promising that the upcoming summer would be the start of his own Pokémon Journey.

I wrote most of this forgetting about Grim, so sorry he doesn’t have a bigger role or more screen time.

Fun story; I got in trouble for writing down my ideas for this at work even though I did it while the store was dead and I’ve worked there for nearly two years and have either written something or drawn something almost every shift I have. Litterally no one but the manager to caught me cares.

And, just to irritate me more (whether she was aware of it or not), said manager takes my writings and decides to read them and then proceeds to put them back in the wrong order before lecturing me.

So, yeah, that was fun.

#ask #twst x pokemon au #pokemon #twisted wonderland au #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x pokemon #diasomnia #diasomnia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #lilia vanrouge #silver #pokemon platinum #pokemon sinnoh

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liliesoftherain · 3 years

Text

My Hero Academia Main 3 Boys x Reader

Ch. 20 A Fight in Hosu City

A/N: Anther late post, but at least I'm getting back into the groove(: Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

When your party arrived in Hosu City it was sundown. Endeavor had assembled a small team of his sidekicks to accompany him on the trip, along with you interns, causing everyone to travel in two separate vehicles. The ride there was spent in silence, save for the few moments Endeavor had spoken about the parameters of the mission. Thoughts drifting back to what you learned as you exited the car, preparing yourself for what was to come.

“What exactly are we going to Hosu for?”

Todoroki had spoken up from his spot beside you in the backseat, causing Endeavor to glance at him through the rearview mirror.

“Hosu was the last area the Hero Killer was said to have attacked in-- based on what we have gathered, he will most likely still be in the city.”

“What’s still keeping him there?” You question without thinking, feeling taken aback as Endeavor’s attention turned to you.

“In the last seven cities, the Hero Killer has left at least 4 injured or killed. So far, in Hosu, he has only managed one injury-- just one. Assuming he’ll keep his track record, we’ll catch him.”

You involuntarily begin to think about your class representative; Iida had seemed a bit off these last few days, and you couldn’t blame him--not with everything that happened.

News about Ingenium spread like wildfire, as the media desperately tried to keep the latest coverage on the Hero Killer and his victims. With how much you knew Iida loved and looked up to his elder brother, the constant reminder must have been dealing a number on his mental health.

Wait, wasn’t Iida also in Hosu, for his own internship?

You stare down in your lap, playing with your fingers in hopes to get rid of your nerves-- you can only hope Iida will be alright, that he’ll stay safe.

Shaking the memory away, you spring back to the present; masses of people steer clear of the heroes, walking in a group down the street. As whispers begin to flood by, Endeavor made the quick decision to split the group up--you, Todoroki, and Endeavor, while the three sidekicks formed another--trying to dwindle the attention you’ve already received.

Besides the gaping stares from the public, there was hardly any activity in Hosu-- the peace much more prominent during this patrol versus the night before. Glancing around to look at the unfamiliar faces, you couldn’t help mirroring the smiles most of them held; the people were safe and happy, and you hoped it stayed that way.

Beside you, Shoto watched as you looked around the area with a smile, wondering just why your face held that expression. He too took in the sights around him, only being able to see normal people going about their business. You were pretty strange, but he had to admit you were pretty much naturally happy; he hadn’t really cared to notice too much before, but after the sports festival--after you gave him some support he never realized he needed--he found himself noticing more and more.

The same could be said for you, but it seemed you were noticing him for being someone that was somewhat similar to yourself; it wasn’t every day you met someone like you--a kid of a top pro hero, with a little bit of a broken past.

Someone who could understand you, even if it was just slightly.

Speaking of the trauma, Endeavor marched on with his head held high, and you felt the bitterness creep in.

A great hero meant nothing if he wasn’t a great person.

Todoroki bumped shoulders with you, and you tilt your head curiously in his direction. He just gave a slight nod, and even though you weren’t completely sure what he meant, you gave a wide grin back; thoughts of terror parents leaving your mind as you forced yourself to think back to the task at hand.

Unbest known to you, Todoroki had watched the smile slip from your face, and in attempts to quell the nervous thoughts--which, what else could you be frowning about--wanted to provide some reassurance.

Endeavor’s sudden stop had you quickly following suit, in an attempt to not run straight into his back, wondering the reason. There were still quite a few people amongst the streets, the stars starting to become visible as the night came to life. Before you or Todoroki could question him, you felt the tremors of the earth below.

‘An earthquake? What could be-’

Smoke rose from behind the buildings, sirens blaring towards the center of the city. No other words were needed, the three of you quickly rushing off to reach the destination--eager to understand what could be happening. Endeavor was nowhere near as fast as he was previously, most likely allowing you and Shoto to keep up with him in this real, unknown event.

This didn’t seem like the Hero Killer, according to all the news coverage on the villain, he acted in areas that would draw him the least amount of attention.

What good would he gain from causing a panic, smack dab into the middle of the city, do?

Once you were closer than you were before, yet not close enough to see what was happening, a buzzing from your pocket caught your attention.

Normally, you would’ve left it alone--seeing as how you had more important things to worry about, but the confusion on Todoroki’s face as he pulled out his own device had you doing the same.

“There’s trouble ahead! I’ll show you what it means to be a real hero, Shoto!”

Ignoring the pro, you opened a message from Deku, eyebrows furrowing as the only thing you read was his current location. You read the address and your heart began to pound--it stated he was in Hosu, not too far from where you were.

He wasn’t interning in Hosu, there could be no way he was anywhere near here. Plus, he never sent anything without an explanation, and knowing the way Izuku is, you would get plenty of it.

He wouldn’t be so, so vague.

Not unless he had to be…

“His location?” Todoroki mumbled, eyes growing wide as he came to the realization.

Quickly locking eyes, you both nodded in agreement before turning around and running the way you came.

“Hey, wait! Where the hell are you two going!?”

“An alleyway at 4210 Echo Street!” You shout back.

“If you finish with what you’re doing, or see any extra pros, send them there. I’m leaving you here to take care of this trouble, I’m sure you can handle it yourself.” Shoto adds.

With that taken care of, the pair of you make your way to the location, going as quickly as you can with the help of your quirks.

The crowd thinned out as they were trying to get away from the chaos, you could see flames rising higher than before somewhere over towards your right--getting smaller as you left them behind. When you couldn’t spot any more civilians--or heroes for that matter--you knew you were getting close. The unease you felt only grew, your heart pounding uncomfortably and not from fatigue.

You heard muffled words coming from one area, and you willed your legs to move faster.

‘There, he’s gotta be there!-’

The opening of the alleyway allowed you to see a man hovering over a person, who lay fallen on the ground. It was dark all the way down, no bright lights shining through, the only source of light coming from the fire from the distance, the moon, and the few buildings that were still lit up. The alleyway itself was pretty narrow, meaning there wouldn’t be a lot of chances to run away, or even hide, without leaving yourself open. Three bodies were scattered on the ground, yet what worried you the most was the large katana that was held, directly over someone’s head-

That was Iida, in less than a few moments Iida was going to be stabbed.

“GET AWAY!”

‘That scream-’

Without thinking, you wind-up your fist and aim a hardened beam of light right at his face. At the same time, a burst of flames shot out to your left, the warmth quickly spreading throughout your body.

The man jumped out of the way, dodging both attacks that were thrown at him. You grind your teeth, allowing your hands and arms to be coated with hardened light, ready to attack as needed. Shoto’s flames burned brightly out of the corner of your eye, but you don’t give yourself time to dwell on the fact he uses his flames. There were more important things to worry about right now.

Todoroki felt the same, trying to think of the best way to handle this situation, trying to make sure he can get everyone out safe.

“Midoriya, you need to give more details in times like this.”

You took your own moment to assess the situation, looking more closely at the ones sprawled out on the ground; Izuku, Iida, and a hero you’ve never seen before--must be a pro from the area. Deku was the only one without blood or visible injury on his body, yet he wouldn’t be on the ground unless he was forced to be-

You stare directly at the infamous Hero Killer as he stares back, a shiver running through your body at his intense gaze. What quirk could this guy possibly have--it wasn’t like Endeavor went into detail about it.

“Yea,” you nod in agreement, “we were almost too late to stop this guy.”

“Hakamata, Todoroki, not you too.” Iida spits out, his voice heavy with emotion.

“How- how did you both get here--wait, you’re using your left side, Todoroki?” Deku gasped.

“How did we get here?”

“I wonder that too,” you finish, “took us a moment to understand what the heck your message was about.”

“Yea, next time, try to send more than just your specific location.”

“But you aren’t one to send cryptic messages, not without good reason. That’s when we figured out something was wrong.” You speak as you crouch into a fighting position.

You bring both of your arms out in front of you, side-by-side, as you let out a large blast of hardened light. At the same time, Todoroki sends out a layer of ice from his foot, causing the Hero Killer to have to jump up out of the way, but also having to focus on dodging your attack. He managed to evade both, but as he jumped further away from you and the injured, it allowed Todoroki to raise the others off the ground on blocks of ice, and bring them closer--farther away from Stain.

“But it’ll all be okay!” You put yourself in front of the injured, staring determinedly at the villain.

“The pros will be here any minute!” Todoroki adds, sending another large blast of fire at Stain as he too stands in front of the others and right by your side.

“You’re just what they said you were,” he glares, “but you won’t be taking any more lives, Hero Killer.”

“Your terror ends here,” you agree, “we will stop you.”

“Todoroki, y/n! You guys can’t let him get your blood! I- I think he controls his enemies’ actions by swallowing it! That’s how he got us!”

“So, he ingests blood to keep people from moving?”

You crinkle your nose in disgust from Todoroki’s assumption.

“That explains the blades. We just have to make sure we don’t get hit, Shoto.”

“Yeah, we’ll keep our distance-”

Todoroki gets cut off as a blade gets thrown at his face, leaving a small cut along his cheek--his blood drawn.

“You have good friends, Ingenium!”

Stain rushes at you both, and you quickly jump in front of Shoto to create a light barrier, in hopes of throwing him back. Stain uses your shield as leverage, kicking off from it and jumping over you--blade angled to slice your back, and it would have if it wasn’t for the block of ice his sword lodge into instead.

You swivel your body, aiming above the ice with your arm encased in hardened light to try to backhand him. Stain jumps away, avoiding the blow, using the ice to flip into the air, grabbing onto Todoroki’s shirt.

“Shoto!”

He was too busy to notice a blade that was thrown in the air, sailing down straight towards him. You quickly maneuver away from the fire he used to send Stain back, and quickly shoot a beam to knock the blade far away from Todoroki and Stain towards the opening of the alleyway.

Back against Shoto’s side, you desperately aim at Stain while he cuts through a large mountain of ice that was sent his way. He was too fast, all you and Shoto could do was keep him at bay, while he monstrously dodged light and fire, while simultaneously cutting through ice.

You send beam after beam, only to let out a cry of pain as one of his throwing blades lodges itself deeply into your arm.

“Luminary!”

“Y/n!”

Deku couldn’t see much of the fight firsthand--the way he was lying on his back only amounted him to seeing the bursts of bright light and flames. But he heard your shouts of pain and he found himself panicking, he needed to move.

He needed to help, now.

Shoto took a split second to glance over, to see blood dripping down the side of your arm. He willed more ice to come and help block his right side--the side you were standing next to. He needed to cover you, to make sure you wouldn’t be in the villain’s line of sight.

You used both arms, even if your left was screaming in pain, and grunted out as you shot a large, curved beam into the air. It was as if you were sending a wave of energy, the light curving to look like a thick, glowing, gigantic boomerang--solid enough to knock into Stain and send him back over the ice.

“Just stop it.. Why are you all doing this? His fight is with me. I inherited my brother’s name! I’m the one that should stop him! THE HERO KILLER IS MINE-”

“You’re Ingenium now? Strange, the Ingenium I knew before never had that look on his face.” Todoroki grunted.

You extend your light in your hands, like a pole, swinging it at Stain. He just stepped on it, using it as a walkway to get closer to you, however, you quickly willed it to become intangible and he fell through. Getting knocked back as you shot a smaller, more compact beam at him, along with getting a barrage of flames from Shoto.

“You’ve got a dark side,” Shoto continued, breathing heavily, “Guess my family isn’t the only one.”

“Ingenium was a beacon of light to everyone around him, wasn’t he?” You question, desperately sucking in as much air as you could, “Isn’t that why you looked up to him so much, Iida?”

Your body was overheating, however, the cold air produced on Todoroki’s right side helping you to stay cool immensely yet you were sweating profusely; the water leaving your system only causing you to overheat even more--the blood leaving your body from your deep wound wasn’t helping either.

Todoroki knew he was in better shape, but he began to grow frustrated; how can he manage to get out of this one? The pros were taking their sweet time, and now you were already injured. If there wasn’t an odd number of people, he would’ve had the both of you grab the wounded and have fled. All he could do was keep the hero killer pushed back, hoping to find a breakthrough point somewhere.

Luckily, even as unlikely as it seemed, your quirks complimented each other--while both suited for long range attacks, yours helped with more precise and accurate shots, while he was your large field of coverage.

Hopefully that would be enough.

“Be careful, y/n! Todoroki!” Deku yells.

All the ice Todoroki had formed as a barrier was smashed into tiny fragments in an instant, Stains guttural voice breaking through to reach your ears.

“You blocked your own field of vision, against an opponent who’s faster than you--rookie mistake, kids.”

“Come get me then-” Todoroki grunts, cut off as two throwing knives were thrown straight into his left arm.

His flames immediately die out from the sudden attack, and you extend both arms out to send out blasts of light towards Stain.

One hits him directly, but your small victory falls short as he grips his hand around the beam and catches himself. The burning of his skin can be heard from below, yet he wastes no time in throwing a blade at you before falling through the now untouchable light, raising up his katana as he heads down towards Shoto, blade raised high to strike.

“You’re good kids, unlike him.” Stain grins sadistically.

The smaller blade lands right in the shoulder of the same arm he cut before, causing you to become distracted by the pain. Shoto’s arm dangles at his side as he desperately watches Stain get closer, until his body angles away from Todoroki, over you, then over the pro hero on the ground.

“Watch out!” Shoto shouts desperately.

You try to do something, but Stain was moving too fast--you wouldn’t make it.

Maybe you wouldn’t have made it, but someone did. A blur of green energy flies by, causing you to sway at the force.

“Izuku!”

“Midoriya!”

Deku grabs onto Stain, somehow freed from the quirk he was placed under, and drags him against the alley’s wall; the cement crumbling from the impact of Stain's body sliding across it.

“I’m not sure why, but I’m able to move again!” Izuku yells across the alley.

“So he’s got some sort of time limit?”

“No,” Native answers Todoroki, “if that’s the case, that kid should have been the last to be freed. I still can’t move a muscle.”

“It has to be something about multiple people then; it could be that he gets weaker the more he uses his quirk.” You gasp out, clutching your arm.

Izuku falls, Stain landing behind him as they touch the ground. You go to yell out for him but Todoroki beats you to it, sending out a large pillar of ice to separate the two. You feel yourself leaning closer, enjoying the way it cooled you down.

A small stream of steam rose from your body, your body temperature steadily rising. You weren’t near your limit, but the blood loss was speeding up the process, and you were nervous on what would happen if this were to drag on for much longer. Thankfully, you were situated on Shoto’s ice side, which was helping--even if just a smidge. But it wasn’t enough, this fight needed to end, quick.

Izuku crawls over to you, coughing as he squats beside you, still a bit too sluggish to stand fully upright at the moment.

“He swallows people’s blood to freeze them, yet I was the one who was freed first.”

“People limit? Blood type?” You throw out the ideas.

“Yea, either his quirk becomes weaker the more he uses it, or even the amount ingested could play a part. Or, like you said, blood type.” Izuku mumbles, eyes calculating as if he was running all the possibilities through his mind.

The victims of his quirk list off their blood type, just in case it could be the last suggestion, and you find out both you and Izuku share your type--type O.

It was a long shot, but those were the only things you had in your corner right now. You needed to think of a way to get everyone out of here, to make sure they got out safe. Both you and Todoroki were bleeding pretty heavily, but not enough for dire medical attention. As long as there could be a defensive position, you should be okay for now.

Stain was just so strong.

He excelled in both offensive and defensive skills, constantly countering your combined attack as if it were nothing. You would need to have a good offense/defense play if you wanted to have a chance.

The way Deku flung Stain around, which you were still in awe over by the way; it was like he embodied his quirk overnight, it was a clear choice that he could help offensively. Yet was that really the right choice? You guys could probably end up fighting him all night. Weren’t the pros supposed to be coming soon? But there was a panic in the middle of the city, who knows how long that would take them. How long could you all hold out until exhaustion or blood loss?

“It doesn’t really help us to know how his quirk works, though.”

“I thought we could hurry and carry those two out of here,” Shoto sighed, “but it’s no good--he’s too fast.”

He was too fast, even if you all tried to run off, he would only chase you down. You would need some sort of barrier, some sort of distraction--

That’s when it hit you, your face immediately snapping to look at the boy to your left.

“What if there was a way?”

“What?” Deku calls from your right.

“Listen, he’s too fast, that’s for sure. But if there was a way to distract him--we may have a way to get the others out to safety.”

“What do you mean-”

You snap your face to look at Izuku midway through Todoroki’s question.

“If one of us would be able to distract him, the others can get out safely and get to the pros, right?”

“Yeah but-”

“If I allow my body to become light, I’m faster than him. I can get close enough to him, then I can keep him at bay with a light barrier or something while you both run to get those two far away from here.”

“No,” Todoroki frowned, “absolutely not.”

“There’s no way we’ll let you do that,” Deku agrees, “What happens when you turn back? You’ll be all alone with him, and at that point, he’ll be able to hurt you since he can now once again be able to physically touch you--and that’s if you don’t pass out from water loss first.”

You grit your teeth, you know they were right, but what else was there to do?

“Does it matter if you guys are all safe-”

“Yes, of course it matters.” Shoto raises his voice, surprising you.

“We’ll do this together, okay? You both have already lost too much blood... The best way to do this is to have me to distract him with close combat, and you both support me from behind. We can hold him long enough, just until the pros arrive.”

“Okay... While it’s still a big risk, we can do this. No one gets left behind.” Todoroki glances at you.

“We’ll protect them.” You agree, thoughts of self-sacrifice replaced with ones of protection.

“Together.” Deku affirms, standing tall as he lets his energy ride throughout his body.

You and Shoto match defensive poses, ready for the fight--ready to defend and conquer.

“Three against one, huh? This fight won’t be easy..” Stain mutters, dropping down to his own offensive position.

A moment of silence echoes loudly throughout the area, only to be broken as Deku uses his quirk to bounce off the sides of the buildings that surrounded you.

He gets in close, desperately fighting to land a hit on the villain. While Shoto uses his ice to defend him, you use large beams of light to act as a shield for him. You grit your teeth in frustration as Stain seems faster than before, his movements more fluid and graceful as he manages to evade every hit.

Desperation and distress clings to the surrounding area, both sides of the fight trying to get the upper hand. The intense battle has only been going on for a few moments, but to you it feels like forever.

Izuku gets in close to try to hit Stain from behind, only to have the villain kick him back; bringing his blade in close and managing to swipe at his shin. Staggering back, Izuku falls to the ground while Stain is upon him once more, the air around him more sinister than before.

It feels like it’s going on in slow motion, turning your head to see Shoto panting hard, clutching his shaking arm as he tries to raise it. In a panic, without thinking, you will your body to turn into light and race in front of Izuku.

You get a brief flashback of the USJ incident; you had done the same before when Izuku had rushed off, and was about to be grabbed by Shigaraki. You had thrown him out of the way, and put yourself into his position. Thankfully the pros were there to stop the villains before it was too late, but there weren’t here now. You were here, you needed to act.

Help him.

You stop directly in front of Izuku, creating a small, thin barrier of light behind you which surrounds him, and send off a large blast at the villain point blank. Stain, not suspecting you to be right there, was caught off guard as you managed to land your first real hit on him all night. Flying back, a barrage of fire kept you and Stain separated, separate shouts of your name went through your ears without comprehension, You were now swinging your fists repeatedly, sending attack after attack to keep him back. Through the flames you spot Stain licking his sword, and in turn Izuku grunts behind you, and that’s when you knew he'd been rendered immobilized.

The sweat pools down your body, fatigue from the overuse of your quirk catching on as you had expended plenty of energy by converting your body into light. So much so that when you clip Stain with a bolt of light in his side, you don’t see how he manages to use that momentum and flings a knife straight at you, slicing your cheek.

The light that had surrounded Izuku vanished once you lost focus, unable to dodge the hero killer further as he grabs on to the front of your hero costume, and leans in to lick your cheek. You try to convert your body into light once more, to turn up the heat, anything, but you’re too slow; the slimy feeling of his ridged tongue swipes across your face, and you aren’t even given a moment to grimace as your body immediately freezes.

“Y/N!”

Your body was shutting down, despite yelling at yourself to move, your body wouldn’t listen. Your legs give out, unable to hold yourself up without feeling, and you tumble harshly to the ground. Falling onto your side, you suck in a breath as your head smacks directly into the concrete. Stars enter your vision, black pooling at the edges as you try to blink away the feeling of passing out. You feel heat above you, and horror struck as you realize you left Shoto all alone to deal with the villain. Tears pool in your eyes as you try to move, you couldn’t leave him to defend everyone by himself!

Izuku was panicking behind you, watching you fall to the ground like a lifeless doll. He knew you were alive, the small groans of pain that came from you was proof enough, but it still scared him. He was able to see perfectly as Stain viciously grinned down at the pair of you, and thoughts of seeing you getting stabbed caused his heart to twist, breaths coming out in short bursts.

Thankfully, fire and ice separated the pair of you from the villain, and Stain in turn focused all of his attention on the only one still standing. Your head was angled just enough to see Todoroki, despite all of his ice in the way. He looked frustrated, yelling out something to Iida as he continued his defensive attacks; he was holding his own well enough, until Stain was able to bypass his field of ice and lifted his sword to aim right at his torso.

“Has anyone told you, you rely on your quirk too much? Makes you a carless fighter!” Steins ruthless words echo dauntingly in the alleyway.

Fear weighs on you as the blade inches closer and closer--if it lands, it would just about cut his arm clean off. The beating of your heart pounds in your ears, till all you hear is a white noise--the sounds of your own screams not even registering as all you could do was watch.

“TODOROKI!”

“SHOTO!”

“Recipro BURST!”

A strangled cry of relief leaves your lips as Iida uses his leg to slice the sword in half, saving Shoto from a terrible fate. Iida manages to send Stain flying back, breath heavy as he stares at the ground.

“You’re free too? Guess his quirk isn’t as great as we thought it was.” Todoroki hums.

“Todoroki, Midoriya, Hakamata--this has nothing to do with you. I apologize.”

“Not this again.” Deku whispers.

“Iida, please-” Your plea gets cut off as Iida stands proud.

“I’m okay, but I won’t let the three of you shed any more blood for me.”

You hear Stain’s wicked laugh as he tells Iida there’s no use in pretending--that a person can’t change in a span of a few minutes. Shoto spits back at the villain, telling Iida he shouldn’t listen to anything he says, while Iida shrugs him off.

“He’s right, I don’t deserve to call myself a hero,” he clenches his fist, and you gasp at the blood that runs heavily down his arm, “even so, there’s no way I can back down. If I give up now, then the name Ingenium will die.”

“PATHETIC.”

Shoto puts himself in front of Iida, sending off a blast of fire as another battle breaks out. You grit your teeth in frustration, desperately wanting to help. You hated not feeling like you could do anything; she whispers in your ear, calling you worthless and pathetic, and the fear kicks in double time. You weren’t proving her wrong, you weren’t proving anyone wrong. You were worthless-- you couldn’t even save your friends; you were weak, you were no good, you were--

“Hey, you did amazing.”

Her voice stopped, the harsh words going away as you locked eyes with Izuku’s bright green ones, a smile on his face. He gently, and quietly, lifted your body up and placed you sitting up along the wall; it was a more comfortable position, and you felt the tiny aches in your body lessen as the pressure released. He brings a thumb up to your cheek, wiping at the blood and sweat to try to clean the cut on your face as he speaks.

“Amazing, but you overdid it-- you’re sweating way too much. Just rest here, you’re going to be okay. I’ll protect you.”

The determination and fire in his eyes make your heart flutter--his grin a beacon of hope. You trust him, one hundred percent. You smile sweetly back, hoping he understood just how much you believe in him.

“Yeah, be careful, Izuku.”

He shakily stands, leaning on the wall above you for support as he determines the damage done to his body. Your eyes filter down, and you see how purple and swollen his leg is--his quirk must have broken it.

He doesn’t let that stop him, his body glowing as his power surges through him, and he pushes off towards Stain. Simultaneously, Iida attacks him on the opposite end, both able to land devastating blows to knock him back. Todoroki countered, sending a large flame to the killer while Iida had given one last solid kick--effectively knocking him out.

Shoto’s ice imprisoned Stain while also bringing both boys towards his direction, and he yells out for them to stand and fight, before he notices the hero killer is unresponsive.

Your finger twitches, catching your attention as you feel your body slowly regaining feeling. The feeling was weird, like white static filtering through your body; like what happens after you’ve been sitting one way too long and your limb falls asleep, once you move it that tingling sensation is overwhelming.

Trying to stand was a pain, you let out a huff of breath in annoyance as your legs wobbled. Once you were upright and stable, you shakily made your way over to the three boys.

“He’s got to be knocked out after all that, right?”

“Then let’s restrain him and get him to the street.”

“Maybe we can find some rope nearby?” You question, only for their heads to snap over to you.

“You’re up and moving, good.” Todoroki sighs, shoulders relaxing as everyone seems to be safe.

“y/n!,” Izuku grins, “good thinking, hopefully there will be something to tie him up with. We should probably take his weapons too.”

“Good idea.”

You force Izuku to sit down next to Iida despite his complaints, and you go to try to find some rope. Iida quickly stands, undeterred by your words as you insist he should rest and goes with you to the trash bins to help look.

“I need to help out, in any way I can.” His voice was thick with emotion like before, but this time it was less angsty, and more sorrowful. You allow him, knowing that he must be beating himself up on the inside.

“Hey Iida?”

“Yes?”

“I'm sorry.”

He stares at you bewildered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Hakamata-”

“I should’ve been a better friend… So I’m sorry.” You speak softly.

Iida bit his lip as his gaze lowered.

“I should be sorry; if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

You nudge his shoulder with your own, careful to not agitate either his nor your own wounds.

“What are friends for?”

The shared smile was enough for the both of you, and you quickly went to work searching for rope. You pulled out a long piece from the dumpster, and laughed in triumph. Shoto had gotten Stain down from his ice wall, and brought him over towards the both of you as he finished removing all of his weapons. Handing the rope off to Shoto, he quickly got to work on tying him up. You see the Pro Hero now moving around, lifting up Deku by giving him a piggyback ride. You smile, grateful Izuku wouldn’t have to put too much pressure on his broken ankle.

“We’re lucky someone threw this in the dumpster.”

“What are the odds, huh?” You chuckle.

“Todoroki, I can drag him from here!” Iida shouts.

“Are you forgetting your arms are messed up?”

“Yeah, it’s okay Iida. Just rest please.”

With a sigh, he reluctantly agrees, and you all make your way out of the alley towards the street and stand on the sidewalk.

“Hey!” a shout makes you all jump, looking across the street, “what are you doing here, boy?”

“Gran Torino!”

Looking back and forth between Deku and the man, you end up gasping as he flies over, kicking Izuku straight in the face.

“Who’s this?” Shoto asks, unfazed.

“Gran Torino, the hero I’m interning with…” he trails off, looking back at the hero, “I don’t get it, how did you find us?”

“I was told to come here, I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m glad you’re not dead, at least.”

More voices filter in, a group of pros rounding the corner all at once. One hero spoke up, uncertainty laced within his words.

“Endeavor told us to come here, but… children?”

The heroes begin to fret over your appearances, until one gasps out.

“Hey, isn’t that… the Hero Killer?”

“What?”

“I’ll get the police on the line!”

Standing with Shoto and Izuku, once Native had carefully set him back down, you look back as Iida calls out.

“You guys, you were all hurt because of me,” He bows, not allowing you guys to see the tears in his eyes, “I’m truly sorry… I was just so angry, I couldn’t see anything else…”

“Iida… I already said you didn’t need to apologize,” you sigh, biting your lip in sorrow, “I’m sorry; I didn’t realize how much pain you were going through.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too, Iida. You were going through so much by yourself, and I couldn’t tell… Even though I’m your friend.” Izuku declares, just as emotional.

The tears start to fall down Iida’s face more rapidly, body shaking in silent sobs.

“Hey, pull yourself together. You’re the class rep.”

“Right…” He agrees with Shoto, rubbing his eyes with the minimal movement he had in his arms.

You let out a sigh of relief, your body cooling down naturally, slowly but surely. You weren’t steaming anymore, the sweat on your body already having been evaporated or dried. However, you were still scarily warm, feeling the effects of being dehydrated and overheated. All you had to do was wait for the ambulance to arrive, and then you could drink as much cold, mouthwatering liquid as you wanted.

The sense of peace that was returning to you immediately faded as Gran Torino shouted to get down. Your heart fell as you stared up a winged creature; one that looked like Nomu back at the USJ. It was huge--large wings protruding from his back as he swooped down towards the group. You see it heading straight towards you, and you try to grab onto Izuku to drag him to the ground with you, but it was all in vain. A large talon-like foot grabbed you, and because of the way you were angled when you were trying to duck the monster ended up grabbing your neck before hauling back towards the sky.

You choked, hands reaching up to try to pry the talons away from your throat, but it wouldn’t budge. White hot fear pounded at you as your windpipe was blocked, unable to breath or move in his hold. The scream came out garbled and distorted, and you encased your hands in light as hot as you could go. It didn’t affect him, even as the smell of burnt skin made you want to gag, it acted as if it was unbothered. Tears built in your eyes, lack of oxygen--along with the rest of your injuries--catching up as you stop thrashing about, your vision fading slowly.

Just then, the creature stopped midair, the grip around your throat letting up, letting you take in a shuddering breath before coughing.

“The word hero has lost all meaning in this society; this world is overrun by fakes and criminals like you who chase petty dreams!”

You look up in surprise to see Stain above you, bringing down a knife as he plunges it straight into the creature's head. Falling towards the ground at a faster rate, you feel his arm snake around your waste, pulling you tight against his chest as he takes the brunt of the fall.

“You must all be purged.”

You’re astonished, unable to understand what exactly had happened once the rough landing came to a stop. You’re now on the ground, Stain setting you down on the sidewalk before sitting up, crouching before you and the now dead creature. You let out a whimper of fear, the crazed look on his face scaring you more than the actual Nomu creature had done.

“Everything that I do, is to create a stronger society.”

The heroes behind you spoke about getting ready, how they needed to be careful now that he had a hostage, and the fact that you were that hostage hit you like a truck. Sweat from nerves rolled down your face, heart beating fast as Stain kept you down on the ground with the same arm he used to save you. You struggled, and in turn it only made him put more pressure, making it impossible for you to get away. You thrash around, holding in tears. This wasn’t the time to cry, you needed to find a way to escape--

Endeavor’s voice echoed in the air, and a switch flipped in Stain’s mind. He let you go, standing to face the number 2 Pro.

“Endeavor.. You false hero, I’ll make this right! These streets must run with the blood of hypocrites! Hero: I will reclaim that word. Come one, just try and stop me you fakes! There is only one man I'll let kill me, he's a true hero; ALLMIGHT IS WORTHY.”

The look in his eyes, and the aura he radiated, had everyone frozen in fear. He walked slowly over towards the pro, who looked more taken aback than scared, until he stopped in his tracks. The knife fell from his hands and his breathing slowed; did he pass out? What is going on?

You couldn’t stay awake to find out, as your adrenaline faded, so did your vision, and finally you gave in; collapsing back letting your eyes flutter close as you passed out on the cold ground.

-----

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morningfears · 4 years

Text

Drag Me Down

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18!

Summary: You and hockey player!Calum have an interesting relationship. Is it flirting? Is it harmless fun? Regardless of what it is, it landed you an ice skating lesson that ends in so much more than a new skill. (Featuring prompts [yes, I’m still writing those] 1 and 3 for @thesubtweeter | Semi-public sex? (I mean, the rink is empty but in an ice rink)

Word Count: 6k

As unusual as it was, even for a Saturday morning, the campus ice rink was empty. It sat devoid of life and silent, save for the sound of your shoes hitting the concrete floor, and you clutched your jacket a little tighter to your body as you felt a chill rush over you. Though you’d only been in the building a handful of times, and only ever on game days, it was cooler than you’d ever felt - something you attributed to the lack of occupants milling about the vast space - and you almost regretted the outfit you’d chosen for your meeting (you weren’t sure that you could call it a date, though you desperately wanted it to be one) with Calum.

You felt slightly self-conscious, dressed in a black skater skirt with a white t-shirt tucked in and a jean jacket a friend had painted for you thrown over top, and wished you’d gone for something more practical - like jeans, maybe a nice sweater - but when you spotted Calum leaning against the railing at the top of the stairs, you didn’t have much time to agonize over your decision. He was dressed comfortably, in a pair of black jeans and the green Empathy hoodie you longed to steal from him, and watched as you crossed the empty space to meet him. It was then, the look he gave you - a slight raise of his eyebrows, a quick swipe of his tongue over his lips, a ghost of a smirk - that made you decide that, no, you didn’t regret your choice at all.

You wouldn’t admit it, not out loud, but if it got Calum to look at you like that, you would gladly put up with any amount of frozen limbs.

You felt a slight charge in the air as you approached him. It was an ever present tension, always there whenever you were around Calum, and it was almost too much for you to handle. The air felt thick with electricity, an underlying current that made your heart begin to beat just a bit faster and the butterflies begin to swirl in the pit of your stomach as goosebumps pricked at your skin. It was instantaneous, the only response to his gaze you seemed to be capable of, and you were both aware of it.

Your head felt muddled with too many thoughts, all of them about Calum, and time seemed to slow as you closed the remaining gap between the two of you. You finally stood close enough to smell his cologne, a scent so heavily associated with Calum that you’d never again be able to smell it without thinking of him, and lost yourself in your proximity.

You hated the effect that he had on you, that he was able to turn you into a lovesick fool with one glance in your direction, because you honestly had no idea where you stood with him. Some days you imagined he liked you as much as you liked him, that he caught a whiff of your perfume and felt his heart pound in his chest and his cheeks heat with a bright pink flush. Others, you wondered if he was just enjoying toying with you because there was no way he could be as interested in you as you were in him.

On those days, the days where your thoughts ran in an unpleasant direction, you reminded yourself that Calum wasn’t like that. Though he was one of your university’s most well-loved hockey players, one of the team’s stars since his freshman season, and a well-loved figure on campus, he was genuinely a good guy. He had a big heart, bursting with love, and would never string you along.

Not when you made it so fucking obvious just how head over heels you were for him.

Although Calum was friends with almost everyone, and at least respected by those he wasn’t friends with, you never imagined that you’d find yourself counted amongst them. You ran in completely different circles, lived completely different lives, but the universe had thrown you together in Chemistry 101 and, well, who were you to question the universe?

You were almost ashamed to admit it but when you first met, on the first day of your chemistry lab, you expected Calum to leave all of the work to you. Although you found him attractive - your friends joked that they’d never seen you stare at anything that wasn’t a textbook that long - you assumed he’d be like everyone else, quickly realizing that you were a stickler for good grades and taking advantage of that. You assumed he’d be another asshole, ashamed to be seen even looking in your direction, however, you were sorely mistaken.

Calum was smart, brilliant, even, and driven. He worked just as hard as you did on lab reports and put in an equal amount of effort every time the pair of you put your heads together to figure out a new set of problems. You divided the out of class activities evenly and met an hour before lab to finishing compiling the work into one cohesive document. He took his studies seriously, just as you did, and you felt guilty for assuming the worst.

What made you feel even worse, though, was that you’d assumed the worst of him as a person, too.

You’d been paired with athletes before, football and basketball and baseball and soccer players, that were all incredibly difficult to deal with. They never spoke to you unless it was to ask for the answers to the online quizzes and you felt certain that Calum was going to be the same. But, to your surprise, he was incredibly easy to get along with.

He was quiet for the first few classes, observing you as you worked and only really commenting on the lab work, but when he figured you out - you later realized that that was what he’d been doing, deciphering you as if you were some sort of puzzle - he threw you for a loop.

Your relationship began with teasing remarks, little jabs here and there about how cute it was to hear the good girl swear when you made a mistake or how much he liked flustering you whenever he sat a little closer than normal, and pet names. You wondered, briefly, if those were just because he’d forgotten your name but that thought was erased when he wrote it at the top of a lab report before tossing it into the pile on the professor’s desk.

He’d been doing it for months and though you couldn’t exactly say you’d gotten used to it - hearing him call you ‘pretty girl’ or tease you for saying ‘fuck’ wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you got used to -, you’d come to expect it. His words still made your heart race and your face heat, especially as he seemed to grow bolder and bolder with each week that passed, but you knew that you’d miss whatever the pair of you had the moment it was gone.

You wanted to believe that he was genuinely flirting with you, that the compliments and pet names meant something, and that he had a genuine interest in you but your insecurities sometimes got the better of you and you wondered if he just enjoyed watching you trip over your own tongue whenever he got particularly bold. He could’ve had anyone, anyone at all, so why would he choose you?

But, as you attempted to ground yourself in the present, you realized that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask that question and risk putting an end to him doting on you. So, whatever it was that linked the pair of you, you resigned yourself to simply settling in for the ride and letting whatever was going to happen, happen.

And spending the day alone with Calum was what was happening.

You liked to believe that ending up in an empty ice rink with Calum was the universe, once again, meddling in your life. You hadn’t planned this, you’d intended to spend your day off on your couch with a bowl of popcorn and a bad movie, but those plans had gone up in smoke (not that you really minded) when you mentioned wanting to learn to ice skate as you and Calum waited for your professor to hand out the week’s lab assignment.

He’d spotted the bruises on your knees from a fall you’d taken at the roller rink, a collision with an overly ambitious teenager, and spent a solid few minutes teasing you - “You sure that’s what happened? Hm. If you say so, pretty girl.” - before accepting your explanation. As your cheeks burned from the insinuation (and the few fantasies that managed to nestle into the darkest gutters of your mind), he’d asked, “Do you just roller skate or can you ice skate?”

When you lamented your inability to ice skate, or inline skate, and expressed a desire to learn, Calum wore the brightest smile you’d ever seen. It was beautiful, truly happy and almost giddy with excitement, and you committed it to memory without even noticing. “Meet me at the rink on Saturday,” he instructed, “I’ll teach you.”

You were rendered speechless, surprised that he wanted to spend time with you out of class, and didn’t register that it wasn’t a question (though you both knew your answer would’ve been yes if it was). You nodded dumbly, too awed to dwell on the fear you held for ice skating, as you watched him take the assignment sheet from your professor. “I’ve got a friend who has some skates you can borrow.” He paused then, his eyes narrowing and his lips curling into a smirk, before he added, “This’ll give you an excuse to hold my hand.”

Though he said it jokingly, you both knew that his words held nothing but truth; you would’ve jumped at the opportunity to touch him - or have him touch you - and here he was, handing it to you without a second thought.

The moment you left lab that day, you were a mess of emotions. You were ecstatic, thrilled to be seeing Calum outside of class, and surprised that he wanted to see more of you. But, beneath your excitement, you were petrified. You always had an out, a solid limit to the amount of time you spent together, and you were worried that with no clock ticking away the minutes, you would do or say something that broke whatever spell Calum had to be under. You were nervous, unsure of what you could talk about and what he was expecting of you. You were also nervous about being on the ice.

You knew that you were going to spend your morning falling on your ass, in front of the man who occupied most of your thoughts, as your balance was shaky even as you stood on solid ground. And this was the first time Calum would be seeing you outside of class and the occasional game. He was used to seeing you dressed down, casual and comfortable for a long day of classes or after work, so you wanted to make a good impression.

The knee high socks you usually reserved for street skating and the heeled boots that you’d only worn a handful of times weren’t exactly practical but practicality was not on the agenda for the day.

The silence between you only lasted for a moment but as your thoughts moved at the speed of light, it seemed to drag on forever. Calum took his time drinking in the sight of you, his eyes lingering on the exposed expanse of thigh, and you tried not to let him see how nervous you really were as you sank your teeth into your bottom lip and waited for him to speak.

“You didn’t have to get so dressed up for me.” His voice held the teasing lilt you loved to hear, an amused tone that told you he took joy in the way your cheeks heated and your eyes dropped from his chest to the floor. “But you look cute, pretty girl. I like the socks.” Your flush deepened as you snuck a look at him from beneath your lashes and caught sight of the smirk that looked like it belonged on his face. After a beat of silence, of waiting for you to retort with something witty - a feat that you had yet to manage, though you desperately wanted to throw him off his game at least once -, he reached into his bag and handed you a pair of skates. “Here. These should fit you.”

He watched, his eyes shining in the bright rink lights, as you studied the pair of strawberry red ice skates - Moxi skates, the same as your roller skates - in your hands. When you grinned, he breathed a quiet laugh before turning and gesturing for you to follow him down the stairs. You trailed behind him, your eyes on his back as he headed for the bench, and only sat beside him when he patted the wood to his left.

He dropped his bag to the floor and pulled out his own skates, the hockey skates he wore with a sturdier boot and blade than the ones you were borrowing, before making quick work of lacing them up. Lacing your skates was the only ability you felt confident in so you worked alongside him, your fingers yanking the beige laces tight around your ankles, and failed to notice his gaze on you as you secured them.

“You could’ve had me on my knees.” When you shot him a bewildered look, your eyes wide and lips parted in confusion, Calum grinned and gestured to your skates. “I was going to be chivalrous and lace up your skates for you but it looks like you don’t need me,” he teased, a laugh leaving his lips as he watched you return to the task at hand and tie your laces in a bow. “But that’s alright. I can still dream of getting you on your knees.”

You bit your lip, cheeks burning as you chose to ignore Calum’s teasing words, and shook your head to clear it as you pressed your feet into the floor to test the fit of your skates. “Lacing skates is the easy part,” you answered with a shrug. “It’s, well, everything else that I’m worried about.”

As he always seemed to do, Calum continued on like nothing out of the ordinary had been said and nodded as he stood from the bench. “I would lie and tell you that I won’t let you fall but you’ve been known to call me on my bullshit, so, I’ll try my best not to let you fall. How’s that?” He offered you his hand, a laugh leaving his lips as you wobbled upon standing, and you did your best to hide the pout you knew was coming.

“Doesn’t really make me hopeful that I won’t be leaving with a sprain of some sort or maybe a sliced off finger,” you mumbled, hands still clasped in his as you tried to find your footing on the mat by the bench, “but I appreciate the honesty. Alright, let’s do this. The faster I fall, the less afraid I’ll be. I think.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” Calum began, his hands loosening their grip on yours as he took a half step back, “I could just let you go on your own, then. You could get a few falls in while I take a few laps and warm up.” He offered a nonchalant shrug, sparing a quick glance out at the ice, but you could tell that he was joking by the look in his eyes when he met your gaze once more and how his grip on your hands loosened but didn’t let go completely.

“Absolutely not.” You tried to sound stern, firm in your insistence that he remain by your side, but the words came out in a laugh as you tightened your hold on him. “If I go down,” you began as you lingered near the entrance to the ice, “I’m taking you with me.”

Calum laughed at your comment and shook his head as he watched you stare out at the ice with a concentrated frown on your lips. That was still fairly new, you were still finding your footing when it came to teasing him back, but it was welcome. He enjoyed it almost - but not quite - as much as making you blush.

He’d asked, as soon as the comments and little jabs started to veer into flirtier territory, if they made you uncomfortable. You’d assured him that they didn’t. When he asked for your permission to keep the comments coming, to keep flirting and teasing, you gave it to him enthusiastically.

You wouldn’t admit it, not out loud and not to Calum, but you loved the feeling his teasing brought you. You loved the burn you felt in your cheeks and the butterflies you felt in the pit of your stomach. You loved the way his shoulders lifted and he smirked after making you look away or lose your train of thought. You loved being left speechless, unable to do anything but giggle or bite your lip, and you knew that Calum loved it, too.

It was the best part of your week, and his, and you were both content with it being nothing more than a bit of fun - for the time being, anyway.

“If you wanted me on top of you, all you had to do was ask. Would’ve been much easier than all of this,” he said, gesturing out at the ice as he sent a teasing wink in your direction. He bit back his laughter as your gaze dropped to your feet and stepped out onto the ice, your hand still firmly in his grasp.

“Who says you’ll wind up on top?” It was said beneath your breath, a huff of words that you didn’t even have time to think about until they were already out of your mouth, but Calum heard you loud and clear. He raised his eyebrows, surprised by your retort, and laughed as he watched your eyes widen and your mouth drop open. “I… that’s not what I, I didn’t mean - fuck.”

“You didn’t mean fuck? Sure sounds like you did.” He knew what you meant, the smirk on his lips told you as much, but he was clearly enjoying watching you attempt to clarify your words. When you opened your mouth once again, only to find yourself unable to speak, he shook his head. “Relax, pretty girl.” His voice was soft, soothing but with an underlying hint of amusement, as he gestured for you to step out onto the ice. “I’m just messing with you. Come on, out on the ice. Don’t go stiff. Try to relax and don’t watch your feet.”

You tried to push the burning embarrassment you felt out of your mind as he pulled you out onto the ice, your hands intertwined as he skated backwards. He remained quiet, his eyes trained on you as you furrowed your brows in concentration and desperately tried to remind yourself not to stare at your feet. You tried to watch him, instead, and tried to copy his footwork but he made it look so effortless.

You struggled to stay standing and you were certain that you were holding Calum’s hands tight enough to cut off the circulation but he didn’t seem to mind. “Keep your knees bent and try to put your weight on the balls of your feet,” he instructed as he watched you attempt to shuffle your feet.

Calum bit back the teasing comments he wanted to make as he watched you attempt to keep your balance. You looked so focused and desperate to get it right that he didn’t want to shake the little bit of confidence you were managing to build. Instead, he said, “You missed the game last night.”

You nodded, slightly distracted as you tried not to lose your balance, and offered an apology. “I was planning on coming but I had to fill in for a coworker. Didn’t figure you’d miss me.” You shot him a smile, glancing at him from beneath your lashes, and he shook his head fondly.

“Can’t help it when the loudest supporter in the building isn’t here,” he teased. You felt your cheeks heat and you dipped your head to return your gaze to the ice as you allowed him to continue pulling you along.

It was no secret that you got into the games. It was almost expected that you and your roommate would be the loudest fans in attendance, ready to yell at any player or official or fan who stepped out of line, and he was right. It would be hard not to miss the pair of you.

“I just get passionate, okay?” You huffed a sigh, pretending to be annoyed by his teasing, but you’d heard from a mutual friend that he loved the support - and hearing you curse when someone hit him a little too hard - so you kept it up. “And, I mean, I need to get my aggression out somewhere.”

“Aggression?” Calum raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing that you were capable of any real aggression - your rants were never truly aggressive, never really angry, and always adorable to him, anyway -, and laughed as he nodded. “Sure. You’re aggressive and I’m the Queen.”

“Nice to meet you, Your Majesty.” Your words dripped with sarcasm but Calum’s face remained impassive as he watched your lips curl into a pout. “No one around here appreciates my sense of humor,” you grumbled, more for the sake of saying something than to actually complain.

“Your sense of humor is comprised of the worst puns known to man, jokes that only you understand, and sarcasm that you explain so you don’t hurt any feelings.” You gaped at him, feigning offense though you knew his description was accurate, and tugged your hands away from his grip.

“Wow. Okay, well, I think that’s my cue to try and skate without you holding my hand, thank you very much.” It was a struggle to keep a straight face, especially when he smirked as you started shaking the moment you let go of his hands, but you tried your hardest as you focused on the ice beneath your feet.

“Have it your way,” he hummed as he skated just far enough away from you to be out of your reach. “This’ll be a good time to teach you how to stand back up.”

“Are my puns really that bad?” You hadn’t moved more than a few inches as you wobbled on your skates. Calum remained close to you, always out of reach but close enough to move in if you really needed him, and laughed at your question.

“Yes. They’re shit. But they’re cute coming from you.” It was high praise coming from him - he gave compliments but they were often shrouded in teasing jabs - so you took it for what it was and grinned at him. However, before you could thank him - and maybe tease him for liking your awful puns - you felt yourself beginning to fall.

“Don’t flail,” he reminded you as he moved closer to reach out and grab your hand and stabilize you. “You’ll break-“ Before he could finish his sentence, your panic took you both down.

True to his prediction, Calum ended up on top of you. He reached out to keep the full impact of his weight off of you and you both groaned as your back - and bare legs - hit the ice while his hands hit beside your head. You were both quiet for a moment, taking in the shock of the impact, before he laughed. “Don’t land on your hands,” he instructed you. “You could break something.”

You barely heard the words that left his lips. You were more focused on the fact that his lips were inches away from your own. He was checking to make sure you hadn’t hit your head, his hand freezing as he grabbed your chin and lifted your head to look him in the eye, but nothing - not even a potential concussion - mattered when you could feel his weight on you.

“You could at least pretend that you’re not enjoying this.” It was a joke, the words laced with the teasing lilt you would never be able to disassociate with Calum, and it was said as he shifted a little closer to you. You held your breath and let your eyes slip shut, waiting for him to lean in and press his lips to yours, but after a moment of silence, you had yet to feel anything.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with sight of Calum smirking at you. “We should get up. Don’t want you to freeze.” It took everything you had not to scream in frustration as he pushed himself to his feet and steadied himself before reaching out to help you up.

Calum didn’t hesitate to laugh at the pout on your lips when you finally managed to get back on your feet. You weren’t happy with him, clearly, but he loved seeing you squirm as you shied away from his gaze. He wanted to leave you in suspense, to make you wait until the very end of the lesson, but you’d suffered enough. He knew that your legs were going to be bruised - just as your ego already was - so he gave in. “Come here, pretty girl,” he laughed, using his hold on your hand to pull you a little closer to him.

You kept your hopes to a minimum, half-convinced he was teasing you yet again, but to your pleasant surprise, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. It was a quick kiss, a barely there press of his lips against yours, but it was enough to send your heart rate skyrocketing and set your blood on fire. Your skin burned where his fingers touched and you found yourself warm for the first time since you stepped foot into the rink.

All too soon, the kiss was over. Calum pulled away from you and grinned at the way you blinked away the stars you’d seen. He gave you a moment to compose yourself before he released his hold on your hands and began skating away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Your voice had a whining tinge to it, more desperate for his touch than you would like to admit, and you couldn’t seem to stop the words that were spilling past your lips. “We were in the middle of something!”

“You catch me, you get another kiss. You came for a skating lesson, didn’t you?”

You both knew that you wouldn’t have said yes solely for the ice skating lesson and you both knew that you wouldn’t have worn the outfit you did without reason but it wouldn’t be Calum if he gave you what you wanted without getting something in return. So, you nodded.

Your pout slowly faded as you attempted to follow Calum around the rink. He never strayed too far from you, just far enough that you couldn’t reach out and touch him, and made conversation as you grew more confident on your skates. The pair of you talked about school and music, about movies and plans for your holidays. You asked about his friends and him about yours. It was casual, the easiest conversation you’d had in years, and you didn’t want it to end.

However, you finally saw an opening and decided that you’d rather return to the conversation later than miss your opportunity to kiss Calum again.

He’d been consistent in his speed, moving slow enough to remain near you but fast enough to put distance between you, but found himself slowing as he got lost in the conversation. It took you longer than you would’ve liked to notice how close he was but when you finally did, you grinned and moved in to grab his hand.

“I caught you!”

Calum glanced down at your hand in his and smirked, shaking his head when he realized that you had, in fact, caught him. “Well, I’m a man of my word.”

Just as he had done earlier, Calum brought his hand to cup your cheek and leaned in to press his lips to yours. This time, you were prepared. You pressed closer to him, desperately wishing you could feel his body heat, and lost yourself in his embrace. As your hands moved to tangle in his hair, his hands moved to grip your hips. He pulled you closer to him, pressing you tight against his body, and deepened the kiss.

You would’ve been content to remain there forever, desperate for a breath of fresh air but unwilling to take it as that would mean parting from Calum, but he knew that would be a disaster waiting to happen. It was hard enough to keep you both balanced, he didn’t think he could manage with even more of a distraction. So, he pulled away from the kiss and grabbed your hand.

Calum pulled you across the ice without a word, his hand warm in your own. You wanted to ask what he was doing but found yourself unable to speak. You felt tongue tied and fuzzy headed so you relinquished your control to him. When you made it back to the bench, Calum took a seat and pulled you down onto his lap. He immediately returned his lips to yours as his hands slipped beneath your jacket.

You sat there for what felt like a lifetime, your hands tangled in his hair as his moved from your waist to brush the tops of your thighs just beneath your skirt. You were content to remain there, just kissing him, but Calum had other plans.

Calum lifted you from his lap and gestured toward your skates. It took a moment for you to realize what he meant but when you saw him untying his own, you followed his lead. You made quick work of unlacing your skates and returning to cover to the blades before passing them to Calum. He shoved them into his bag, alongside his own, before he stood from the bench and slung it over his shoulder. He reached out a hand to you and guided you through the rink to the locker room.

It wasn’t ideal, and definitely not what you imagined your first time sleeping with Calum would be like, but you didn’t really have it in you to care as he dropped his bag onto the ground and crowded you against a set of lockers.

You didn’t care if you were technically in a public space where anyone could interrupt. You didn’t care that your body ached from your fall earlier. You didn’t care that the metal of the lockers dug into your skin.

The only thing that mattered was the feeling of Calum’s lips on yours, his hands on your skin, his body pressed against yours. You couldn’t focus on anything in particular, not when the feeling of Calum was so overwhelming, so you stopped trying to make sense of anything that was happening and just let yourself enjoy it.

You tugged at his curls as his hands dipped a little higher beneath your skirt. “This okay?” he asked, his voice muffled against the column of your throat. When you breathed your consent, he hummed against your skin and let his fingers explore the expanse of your inner thighs before his thumb brushed your slit over your panties.

“‘M glad you wore a skirt,” he confided, his voice quiet as he pulled away just enough to get a look at your face. “Makes this easier.”

“Glad I didn’t wear shorts under it,” you agreed, voice breathy and high as you gripped Calum’s biceps when his fingers nudged your panties to the side.

Calum didn’t bother to retort as he teasingly dragged his fingers along your slit. You took the time to return his kisses, pressing your lips to his neck and nipping at his warm skin. You felt like this was a dream and hoped desperately that you wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.

Calum took his time teasing you, brushing his thumb over your clit and rubbing barely there circles before moving away. You weren’t surprised, it was just like him to tease you even as you were willingly giving him whatever he wanted, but you were frustrated as you begged him for something more.

He pressed his lips to yours to silence your begging - and the moan that he knew was inevitable - before he slipped a finger into your heat. He took his time, far longer than he should have given your location, working you open. You were grateful for his kiss as it kept you from making far too much noise as he worked his way to two fingers and began circling your clit with his thumb.

“Are you sure you want this?” He wanted to be sure, certain that you really wanted him, because no amount of flirting and teasing equaled consent.

“Yes, Cal. Please.” Your words came out as a whine, your lips parted as your hands desperately clung to his biceps. He nodded, glad that you were so enthusiastic, before he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled away to grab a condom from his bag.

It only took a moment for him to slip inside you. Once he bottomed out, he stilled for a long moment to allow you both time to adjust. When you started shifting, desperate to feel him, he began to move. It felt like hours passed, feeling Calum fill you in the best way, but you had no way of telling how much time passed as you felt yourself barreling closer and closer to your end. With his thumb on your clit and his lips on your neck, you found yourself unable to do anything but breathe his name.

Your orgasm hit you harder than any other ever had. You imagined it was the build up, the months of verbal foreplay that made the reality that much sweeter, and swore you saw stars as you cried his name. He followed after, his hips stilling against yours as he rode out his own pleasure, and he remained still against you as you both worked to catch your breath.

“That’s definitely not how I expected to spend my Saturday,” you informed him, your voice breathless as he pulled away from you and helped you steady yourself on legs that felt like jelly.

“If telling yourself that helps you sleep at night…” Calum tossed you a wink, his cheeks flushed from the exertion and his hair slightly damp with sweat. “But I don’t hear any complaints.”

“Shut up,” you huffed, biting back laughter as you adjusted your clothes. “No complaints, other than how sore I’m going to be tomorrow. Don’t know if you know this, but ice is really fucking hard and leaves a bruise when you fall on it.”

“Seriously? I had no idea. Come on,” Calum nodded toward the exit, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulders as his other held his bag. “There’s a diner near here.”

“Isn’t this a little backward? Sex and then a date?”

“Who said anything about a date?”

When you fixed him with a look, your eyes conveying the panic you felt in that moment, Calum grinned. “We’re not doing anything out of order. What do you call the skating lesson? Give me a little credit, pretty girl.”

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack, Cal,” you huffed, your arms folding over your chest as you let him lead you out of the building.

“Get out of your head and live in the moment. Be aggressive.”

You huffed again, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as you reached out to playfully whack his stomach. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“You have no idea, pretty girl.”

____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: .....this got way long. Anyway. I had an idea and ran with it. I really want to go ice skating, my dudes. And hockey!Cal just....does something to me. Also the inspo for this. Oof. I’m sorry.

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max-is-tired · 4 years

Text

It’s Fine By Me (If You Never Leave)

Pairing: Dukexiety

Characters: Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders

Words: 2.062

Warnings: Sympathetic Remus, swearing, crying, kissing

Notes: I... might be starting to grow lowkey in love with Dark Sides ships sdkjvnsjkfvn

Anyway!! here is a new fic, not even a week after the last one I posted -miracles exist apparently. A big thank you to my boyfriend @afulldeckofaces for catching the mistakes that slipped past 3am me skvnsfjv you’re the best babe <3

I hope you guys like it!!

Commission me!! Buy me a coffee!! Join my Discord server!!

If you had told 15 years old Virgil that one day he would’ve fallen in love with none other than Remus Grimm, he would’ve probably ended up cracking a rib or two by laughing too much.

And yet, look at him now -19 years old ad head over hills for his best friend, who just happened to have had to move two towns over because of college.

God, feelings sucked.

Virgil groaned in frustration, letting his forehead hit the textbook lying open in front of him with a muffled thump.

He was tired. He was so. Fucking. Tired. Tired of college, tired of this stupid crush that kept stubbornly refusing to go away, tired of his stupid anxiety and tired of having to deal with all of this without his best friend by his side.

Yes, he was grumpy because he hadn’t seen Remus in more than a month, sue him.

As if sensing his worsening mood, his phone buzzed, breaking Virgil out of his thoughts. Letting out a series of annoyed grumbles and half-assed curses, Virgil snatched his phone from where it was lying on the desk, Remus’ wild grin staring back at him from the screen.

It was a photo they had taken that summer, just before Remus had had to leave for college. Roman had been the one taking it, the day Patton had decided to drag -for some more literally than others- their entire group out for some ice cream.

Remus had thrown his arm around Virgil’s shoulder, proudly showing off his chocolate mustache as the other fumbled with his cone to keep it from falling to the ground.

Virgil remembered glaring daggers at him for a total of two seconds before Remus’ waggling eyebrows did him in and sent him in a snickering fit.

Virgil remembered the weight of Remus’ arm around his shoulder, his warmth seeping through his shirt in a way that somehow, didn’t make him uncomfortable -he had never felt uncomfortable with Remus, not once, not even under the hot summer Florida weather in the middle of July.

He only saw that photo for the first time later that night, staring at Remus’ wide grin and sparkling green eyes as his heart hammered in his chest.

The realization had crashed over him like a tsunami, every thought in his head screeching to a halt as he slowly became more and more aware of the fact that he was very much in love with his best friend.

”Of course,” Virgil remembered thinking, staring at his phone with wide eyes, ”who else could it be?”

And boy if that thought alone hadn’t scared the living shit out of him.

For a moment, Virgil let his mind linger on the memory of that sunny afternoon, a soft smile stretching on his face.

Then, he swiped up and clicked on the notification.

”You up for a little chat?” read Remus’ message, followed by a string of random emojis Virgil didn’t even try to decipher -he knew it would probably be useless since they rarely made sense in the first place.

Virgil frowned, threw a considering glance at his textbook and the various papers still scattered on the desk and shrugged -it was not like he was getting anything done anyway.

“sure, why not”

Not even ten seconds later Virgil’s phone lit up with an incoming call, the first notes of My Immortal filling the room.

“Hey there Spider boy!” came Remus’ voice from the other side of the line.

Immediately, Virgil felt some of the tension leave his shoulders, relaxing back on his chair as he pushed himself away from the cluttered desk.

“Sup, Trashman,” he answered, not even bothering to fight down the tired grin tugging at his lips -Remus was not there to tease him about it anyway, so.

“Wow, don’t sound too excited to hear from me.”

Virgil snorted, his smile turning more and more genuine as the seconds passed.

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later. But really, you sound like shit -everything alright? Are there some bones that I need to break?”

Virgil groaned, leaning back as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Now that he wasn’t panicking over his homework exhaustion was slamming down on him full-force, making it very hard for him to string together a coherent thought let alone think about filtering whatever shit was coming out of his mouth.

“It’s just… fucking everything, man. College is kicking my ass, my anxiety is kicking my ass and I’m just- I’m just tired, you know?”

From the other side of the line, Virgil heard Remus hiss in sympathy at his words.

“Yeah, shit, that sounds rough as hell.”

A beat of silence, and then-

“I can drive over and burn down your campus if you want. No college, no classes. Boom, airtight.”

Virgil couldn’t have stopped the amused snickers leaving his mouth even if he’d tried, shoulders shaking with his laughter as he fought to stifle it down.

“Thanks for the very tempting offer, but I think I’ll give it a pass for now.”

Then, he sighed, feeling his smile slip away as he stared at the ceiling, his sadness starting to creep up on him again. “... I miss you,” he whispered -he hadn’t exactly meant to say that out loud, but he had and now just couldn’t stop.

“I just- I miss our daily escapades and you sneaking into my room at the oddest hours of the day because you decided for some reason that simply using the front door was too mainstream.”

Virgil took in a ragged breath, distantly feeling his eyes start to sting with unshed tears.

“I miss being able to just call you when everything gets too much with the knowledge you’ll be knocking at my window in five minutes max. I miss having you physically by my side every day, I miss my best friend and I feel so fucking bad about it because you’re following your dreams and I’m proud of you, I really am but I also want you right here by my side and-”

Virgil audibly snapped his mouth shut, pressing a hand over his lips to stifle his sobs as tears streamed down his face out of his control.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, moving the phone away from his ear.

“Virgil-” Remu voice called, sounding worried and maybe a little desperate. but before he could say anything more, Virgil hung up, letting his room fall back into silence before throwing the phone somewhere on his bed.

Virgil bit down hard on his lip, but he could do nothing against the sobs that kept bubbling in his throat. One escaped, then another and soon Virgil could do nothing but curl up with his head hidden between his knees, yearning for the one person that could not help him the way he wanted him to.

+++

Virgil didn’t exactly remember when he fell asleep, his memory being somewhat hazy in-between the tears that seemed to never end and the way he kept feeling like something was trying to squeeze him to death from the inside-out.

What he did remember, however, was waking up to a very familiar sound -one he’d thought he wouldn’t get to hear again in quite some time.

Initially, during those few moments floating between dreams and awakening, when reality hasn’t quite set in yet and sleep still hangs heavily from your eyelids, Virgil had almost believed he was still dreaming, his own vain hopes playing cruel tricks to his brain.

But the seconds kept ticking and Virgil kept hearing the goddamn sound, so there were only two possible explanations -either someone was trying to break into his room, or-

Virgil bolted up, almost tumbling off the chair he had fallen asleep on -which, ouch- in his haste to get to the window.

And sure enough, there Remus was, with his signature manic grin as he waved at Virgil from the tree branch he was perched on.

Virgil stared, hands moving almost on their own as they went through the familiar motions of unlocking the window to let his best friend in.

“Thanks, it was starting to get chilly out!” Remus chirped, climbing in with practiced ease and plopping himself down on the bed.

“What the fuck,” Virgil answered, still trying to process what was going on.

“I- you- what???” Virgil felt like his brain was about to implode, his gaze flickering from Remus to the window and then back to Remus again.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing here? It’s fucking two am or something like that and you live like, three hours away!”

Remus shrugged, shuffling around so he could sit cross-legged in the middle of the bed.

“My best friend is hurting, why would I not come?”

“It’s the middle of the week, you have classes tomorrow,” Virgil weakly pointed out, starting to feel a little choked up with all the emotions coursing through him at once.

“It’s Thursday, or Friday morning is you wanna be accurate,” Remus easily countered. “I know for a fact that neither you nor I have anything important going on tomorrow and the weekend is class free, so I’m going to crash here until Monday morning since we both have afternoon classes. And no, this is not up to debate. It’s happening, Spider Boy.”

Virgil blinked, staring at him with wide eyes as his heart hammered in his chest.

There was a tingling sensation running through all of his body, electrifying in the best of ways. It felt like fire and ice and water altogether, filling him up and up until-

“I love you,” Virgil blurted out, unable to stop the words from tumbling out any longer.

Remus stared for a second before a dazzling grin took over his face.

“I love you too!” he chirped, grinning so wide Virgil distantly worried if it didn’t hurt to pull at the muscles that much.

“No, uh-” Virgil stuttered, all too aware of how flustered he probably looked at that moment.

He bit his lip, pondering his next course of action. He could still salvage this, just let it go and make Remus believe he meant it in a platonic way and nothing more, burying his feelings in the deepest and darkest corner of his heart. But on the other hand… did he really want to do that?

“I meant in a romantic way, Remus,” he finally admitted, looking everywhere but at his best friend, “I love you as in I want to be your boyfriend and kiss you and stuff.”

Silence fell, filling the room as Virgil kept carefully avoiding Remus’ eyes.

God, he’d ruined everything, didn’t he?

Then he saw a familiar hand reach out and grab a fistful of his hoodie, firmly tugging him forward before he could express his confusion.

Virgil let out a startled yelp, stumbling towards the bed until he found himself face-to-face with his best friend. Still grinning, Remus winked before leaning in, erasing the last few inches separating them as he kissed him square on the lips.

Virgil froze, eyes as wide as saucers as he tried to comprehend whatever the fuck was going on. But before he could do that, Remus pulled back, slowly letting his eyes slide open again as a small, soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips -it was such a strange expression to see on Remus’ face, but Virgil found that he didn’t mind it at all, as long as it was directed at him.

“I know what you meant,” Remus chuckled, pecking Virgil on the lips again for good measure, “and I love you too. Now, are you gonna actually get on the bed and cuddle or do I need to drag you under the covers myself?”

Virgil let out a startled snort, feeling like he was reeling from the last five minutes alone. Still, he dutifully climbed on the bed and flopped down, feeling his exhaustion start to creep back on him again.

Remus grinned, laying down beside Virgil and immediately cuddling as close as humanly possible.

“Comfy?” Virgil teased, moving his hand to gently card it through the other’s hair.

“Hush boyfriend, pillows don’t talk,” Remus grumbled, already halfway gone as he somehow snuggled even closer.

Virgil hummed, leaning down to leave a kiss in Remus’ hair.

Boyfriend, uh? Well, it did have a nice ring to it.

#sanders sides #dukexiety #virgil sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #virgil angst #swearing #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #maxiswriting

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solarwriting · 4 years

Note

can u do the 4 soulmate au with ricky? pls i love ur writing

any cuts or bruises appear on your soulmate

y/n had kinda been known as a klutz and being dragged into auditioning for the musical by ashlyn probay wasn't the best idea.

"y/n come on, i've seen you dance. it's the one time you have one hundred percent coordination. and you can sing like no other." ashlyn pleaded as she lead you to the auditorium.

y/n sighed, "okay," ashlyn let out an excited squeal which y/n interrupted, "but, i'm not playing anyone with any solos, or lines."

ashlyn deflated sighed slightly but smiled nonetheless, "i'm taking it as a win, now let's go." ashlyn grabbed y/n's hand and drug her to the auditorium.

after an amount of time y/n couldn't even begin to measure, rehearsals were over and the cast list was up and ashlyn got her part as mrs. darbus and y/n got background dancer, just as she had hoped. ignoring the triangle drama between ash's cousin and ricky and nini, ashlyn and y/n went out and got celebratory milkshakes, a tradition they had when there was something to celebrate.

the two were sitting together drinking their milkshakes and talking about the excitement of the first rehearsal tomorrow when y/n felt her arm start to throb, she rubbed the spot in a futile attempt to soothe it.

"what'a wrong?" ashlyn asked, tilting her head at y/n's arm.

y/n shook her had, pulling up the sleeve of her shirt, "uh, soulmate bruise." she chuckled lightly brushing it off, changing the subject back to the musical.

carlos was walking through the steps of the dance is the second act and it seemed like no one was getting it. "can we at least lose the blindfolds?" y/n asked, tugging the blindfold off, the other dancers mumuring in agreement, "'cause i could get this dance down pretty quickly if i could actually see the light of day."

"okay, fine! we can go through it once without the blindfolds." carlos sighed reluctantly sinking back into the chair.

the group went through the steps again and the klutz in y/n came out for a moment because one moment y/n was upright, learning a dance and the next she was on the floor, her ankle already starting to turn purple.

"oh my god, y/n! are you okay?" carlos asked, pulling you up with the help of seb.

y/n groaned, "i'm okay," she tried to stand on her injured foot only to crumple again (carlos and seb caught her), "maybe not."

"well at least it's thanksgiving break, right?" ashlyn offered weakly.

"that's right!" miss jenn announced as she entered tomorrow will be our last rehearsal until after the break people, "what happened here?"

"um, y/n rolled her ankle." carlos explained as he helped her to a chair.

"take her to the nurse, stay home tomorrow y/n. and heal up during the break please." miss jenn sighed.

carlos nodded as he and ashlyn walked y/n to the nurse where they passed by a worried looking nini and gina surround a hurt ricky. ashlyn gave nini a look that asked what happened? which nini returned, looking at y/n. ashlyn shrugged as they continued to help y/n to the nurse.

y/n spent the next few days her ankle wrapped, elevated and iced. and she was getting stir crazy and ashlyn texted her about a thanksgiving party she was having. after some begging from y/n and a compromise of using a crutch while walking, y/n was permitted to go, if she got a ride (which she did from carlos).

when she walked into ashlyn's using the one crutch, she had refused to use both of them, explaining that her family made her when everyone look at her with confusion. they responded to her explanation with laughter. y/n went into the kitchen where ashlyn stood, looking slightly dumbfounded.

"what happened?" y/n asked, nudging her.

ashlyn blinked, "um big red, complimented me, i think."

"get it, girl." y/n said nudging her again.

ashlyn smiled before going back into the living room leaving y/n to stand in the kitchen alone standing against her crutch. that didn't last long because soon gina and ricky arrived and were in the kitchen. gina put her cupcakes down and greeted y/n, "ashlyn told nini and i about your ankle, how is it?"

y/n chuckled lightly, "yeah, it's okay. i have to carry this around for another week but then i'll be better and ready to back you guys up."

"that's good," gina smiled, looking back at an awkward looking ricky mouthing talk to her before turning back to y/n, "i'm going to go say hi to everyone."

"yeah." y/n muttered turning back to face ricky who was still at the doorway with his hands stuffed into his pockets, looking uncomfortable.

ricky cleared his throat, walking further into the kitchen, "so was that why you were gone friday? your ankle?"

y/n nodded, adjusting her grip on the crutch, "y-yeah, i twisted it thursday running through the choreo. it still hurts, a bit."

"um i bet," ricky trailed off, "hey, i'm sorry."

"what are you talking about?"

"we've drifted apart, since sophmore year." ricky began.

y/n interrupted him, "you mean since nini."

"y-yeah, i don't know it was a first l-love kind of thing, i guess." he explained.

"and you though she was your soulmate, right?" y/n asked.

ricky sighed, "yeah, i-i did."

"yeah, i feel bad for whoever my soulmate was, i bet their ankle hurt pretty bad for a bit there." y/n laughed, "plus they're kind of a klutz themselves, i had this huge bruise on my shin for like three weeks when we started rehearsals."

"um, y/n?" ricky said looking down at his feet.

"yeah?" y/n asked.

"is your ankle still bruised pretty bad?" he asked, moving to sit on the counter in front of her.

"uh, yeah. why?" she asked trailing off.

"well, you were right," he rolled up his pant leg and tugged his sock down, revealing a dark purple bruise trailing down his ankle, an exact copy of y/n's wrapped ankle. "oh, and that shin bruise happened when i was practicing the troy dance and i ran into the coffee table."

"oh my god, you're," y/n stopped looking to her left to see a living room full of people watch the scene unfold in front of them.

"yeah," ricky trailed off, looking at the group. he turned back to y/n, "want to talk somewhere more private, to talk?"

y/n nodded, tearing her gaze from her audience to look at ricky, "yeah."

he grabbed her free hand and lead her to the stairs. where they sat, attempting to sit comfortably with y/n's injured ankle, which she ended up elevating on his lap with an short chuckle. "so um," he started inly for y/n to hold up and hand for him to stop.

"you guys can stop eavesdropping now!" she called with a light laugh, getting a chorus of laughs in response.

"okay," y/n sighed, "continue."

"it's okay, i didn't really have anything, to say. um, this is weird, don't you think?" he said beginning to ramble.

"hey," y/n said softly, putting her hand on his reassuringly, she whispered "what about nini?"

"there's nothing there anymore, we've both moved on. i want to focus on this. and i've wanted to for a while now." he explained, his voice soft as to avoid any eavesdroppers from hearing.

"really?" y/n asked hopefully.

ricky nodded, "so, do you want to go back in there and play carlos' weird game?"

"of course!" y/n said, "same team?"

ricky nodded, helping y/n up and into the living room where the group look at them expectantly, "let's play this game!" ricky and y/n announced, a chorus of cheers following.

after the game and gina's phone call, y/n and ricky walked to his house, their fingers intertwined. y/n leaned on ricky more than her crutch for support as they made the short walk to his, thankfully, empty house.

"so..." ricky trailed off, sitting on the couch. "what do we do?"

"i don't know." y/n shrugged, sitting down on the couch next to him. she laughed, "i feel like we should watch glee or something."

ricky chuckled, "i haven't actually ever seen it."

"what? no, that's it. we have to watch it. you better get comfortable because it's a lot."

ricky laughed as y/n sunk into the couch a bit more, scooting herself a little bit closer to him. "so earlier you said that you wanted to focus on this, us. how long have you felt that way?"

"so you rememeber when miss jenn was going to lose her job and we all sang that song for her?" y/n nodded. "well it was when i saw you dance and how you and carlos made and taught up that choreography in one night. that's when i realised i didn't really want to be your friend. so then, when ashlyn told me and gina about you hurting your ankle at the same time as i fell, that's when we both figured out that we were soulmates."

"is that why gina walked with you today?" y/n asked, picking at her sweater.

"yeah, she was helping me get the balls to tell you we were soulmates." he laughed.

"well i'm glad you did because now i can do this," y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, connecting her fingers as the nape if his neck and pulled him closer and kissing him. after the initial shock wore off, ricky grabbed y/n's chin and deepened the kiss. he pulled away for a moment, his forehead resting against hers, still holding his chin and they both tried to catch their breath.

"so," y/n started.

"so," ricky echoed.

"glee?" y/n asked, ricky laughed in response. he grabbed the blanked that was thrown over the back of the couch and draped it over them as y/n put glee on the tv.

ricky's dad smiled to himself at the sight if y/n resting her head on ricky's shoulder, his head on hers.

#ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen x nini salazar roberts #ricky x nini #ricky bowen #nini hsmtmts #ashlyn hsmtmts #hsm the series #hsmtmts imagine #hsmtmts #hsmtsts spoilers #hsm2 #big red x ashlyn #nini x ashlyn #ashlyn caswell #gina x ricky #gina x ej #gina hsmtmts #gina x nini #gina porter

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boogiewrites · 4 years

Text

No. 9:”The Body.”

Chapter Four

Characters: Diego Hargreeves & OFC Eve Corpuz

Summary: Eve feels the pressure of learning about her powers and takes steps to do that when Diego takes too long to respond. She ends up meeting him again, by chance or fate, and they begin to realize that they have more in common than they thought.

Warnings/Tags: Light descriptions of fighting. Flirting. Bonding.Little bit of Luther.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT! If you’d like added to the tags, just let me know. This is a multi-chapter fic.

Eve sits in the on-call suite with an ice pack on the back on her neck. She’d begun seeing how her power worked while she was at her job. She found it harder, the more she practiced the more drained she became. Being the overachiever she was, she’d passed out cold and gave everyone a good scare. She knew the cause but she couldn’t really say that so she’d had every remedy thrown at her and told to rest. So here she was with an energy drink in one hand and her phone in the other. She just had a few hours, she could make it. But she knew there would be more days like this if she didn’t take some time to figure things out.

As on-brand as ever, Diego had not texted her since the initial number text. She sighed and begrudgingly sent him a message first.

“I’m going to see if I can get my hours lowered. Whenever you can, we need to figure something out. I need to learn how to deal with this before I hurt myself.”

Her impatience for a response led her to take plans into her own hands. She made a few stops before she went home, to her community center to see where her defense instructor suggested she could go for some more intense training.

She settled in for the evening, making it easy on herself. She could probably get some decent info from a good google search on the Hargreeves. What? She was by nature a researcher and this was as close to a book on powers she was going to get. She had a personal training appointment with a new gym on the calendar for her next free day. With a plan in place, she felt better. For now anyway.

————————-

The response of “alright let me know.” Seemed underwhelming but at least it wasn’t only one letter. He’d sent it at 2:37 AM. What kind of sleep schedule was this guy on?

She’d been approved for fewer hours, not by much. But when you throw out the words ’work-related mental episode’ they tend to listen. She'd taken the first few checks she’d received and as she had never done before, she treated herself to new workout gear.

She figured she needed to learn to fight. If Diego, well, the whole family, did it and she was one of them... it made sense. If the wrong person found out about her, she could potentially be in danger, and she was not one that liked to be ill-prepared. Since she didn’t think he was moving fast enough with suggestions for what to do now, she’d found a quaint old gym upon the suggestion of her self defense teacher.

“They’re very good at what they do but they’re a little rough around the edges. Ask for the big guy, he’s the nicest, the other brother is a dick.”

She was always down to support family-owned small businesses and if they were good then what is some poor bedside manner when she dealt with people spitting on her for saving their life. This is should be nothing.

Good thing she had such an attitude because she’d far overestimated how good of shape she was it when she got winded from the warm-up. She was certainly getting her money’s worth. Extra fees to be seen at a late hour due to her weird work hours, but once she said she was a doctor the polite man on the other end of the line was very accommodating. That polite man turned out to be one of the biggest men she had ever seen. She thought it curious but didn’t want to be rude and assume he was the Luther she suspected he was. Luther sounded like a name any big guy could be called. This guy could just be super jacked on steroids and injectibles. As long as he was a good trainer she didn’t care. And so far he was giving her the most polite ass-kicking she’d ever received.

This night was an introduction to the gym, consultation, and free training session. She was sweating and focused as Luther went over the importance of safety in form.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I am a little bigger than you.” He laughs and she can see it’s a joke he’s used many times before. “Usually my brother helps in this part, he’s… a lot smaller than me. Not a lot he’s not tiny or something he’s… people-sized he’s normal...human man height. So learning with someone closer to your size is better than-“

“I think she gets it, big guy.” She hears a familiar voice coming down the stairs from the offices and apartment.

“Oh! I didn’t know you’d be in tonight.” Luther says with relief.

“Yeah, plans didn’t play out.” As oddly enough, his plans stood right in his gym.

“Eve here is getting her first session in late, she’s a doctor so… weird hours.” As soon as she saw Diego she knew he was the dick brother she'd been warned about. Checked out.

“Who’s stalking who now Doc?” He asks with a smile and a cocky suaveness he carried himself with.

“I didn’t know this was your gym.” She says a roll of her eyes.

“Oh you... know each other?”

“Yeah,” Diego asks without looking to Luther. “We at my part yet?” He asks with a raise of his brow.

“Yeah left it for last.”

“I got her from here.” He says giving him a casual hand of dismissal.

“Oh, you sure? I’ve got her forms filled out-“

“Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t worry about em. Head on out, I’ll close up.”

“You sure?”

“If you ask me that one more time I’m going to demonstrate on this dummy,” he pokes his chest, “instead of these other ones.” He knocks his head to the side of the room where the standing targets were lined up.

“Yep.” A gives a close-lipped smile and a nod. “Nice meeting you Eve, he’ll schedule you for the next one, kay?”

“No problem.” She gives him a warm smile and a nod in return to answer any doubts he might have about leaving her with him.

So Diego kicked off his boots as Luther wobbled around to lock the doors and turn off the lights. With half the room lit now, they stood face to face and sized each other up a moment. “You really didn’t know?” He asks after he hears the click of Luther being out of earshot.

“I swear. I asked my self-defense teacher and they recommended this place. Said you were good at training people to fight so…” she shrugs and offers her hands up.

“We are. I am.” He smiles proudly. “Why are you wanting to fight?” He asked with squinted eyes. She could tell he hadn't expected it.

“Well.. you do. I mean all…the people with powers do. I thought it’d be smart if I could really defend myself if I needed to. In case something goes wrong and... like... I get found and people wanna kill me.” she gives a weak shrug of explanation

He considers it a second. “Yeah, you just didn’t strike me as the type.”

“Why? You knew I took classes you stalker.” she taunts him.

“Well I had to know if you were legit before I came at you didn’t I?”

“And I you.” she quickly quips back.

“See. We have an understanding.” He passes his hand back and forth. “So… fighting huh? What you into? Judo? Jujitsu? Some boxing?”

“Everything.” She says with a self-assured nod and he lets out a dry laugh.

“Everything?” a cocky laugh that came from decades of experience busted out and stayed on his face in the form of a grin for awhile after.

“I wanna be good. I wanna be strong. I wanna win. Or not die and be maimed at least…. So whatever that takes is what I want to do.”

He could see a conviction in her eyes, she meant it. He was inspired for a moment by the rawness she gave so openly. The honesty was refreshing. “Then let’s do some conditioning. Start there and we’ll start discussing styles. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” She offers a supportive nod.

“Then drop and give me 50.” He grins.

She’d never sweat so much in her life. He put on music and had her do every cardio move she could have ever imagined. She left the desire to stay looking nice long ago once the hair started to stick to her forehead. She took everything he gave, and he was once again impressed. She’d yell out when she was trying to push herself and he'd clap and yell right back. She’d crack a smile when he told her to let it out and scream at him. So she did and she collapsed with her last burpee onto the mat. He pulls her up and gives her cheek a good supportive smack as she glares at him playfully.

“Ya did good, kid.” He pats her arm supportively. “Next time we’ll work on some moves too.”

“Good because I really want to hit you after that.”

------------------------------------------

“You’ve not been out for weeks, what’s been your deal?” One of Eve's friends she worked with, Molly asked. Her face always had a glint of sarcasm in her eye and a brow that never twitched. “I’ve had to work with Sean so much it’s been a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve just been… busy… going through some weird stuff right now and needed more time for myself. I’ve considered a career change anyway.”

“You what? You aren’t leaving me you bitch.” She says playfully but she means it. “Don’t leave me with those doctor dicks.”

“I’m one of those doctor dicks y’know.” She laughs.

“Nah you’re just a dick.” She grins and taps her glass to her friends. “I’m never very good at being sugar-coated but I'm here if you need to talk about it.”

“Uh...not yet. I’m okay, not sick or anything. Just had some stuff from my past kinda...come up.”

“Ah. The middle of fucking nowhere coming back to haunt you?”

“Yeah, I guess. Some big feelings and stuff came up with...in therapy.” She tries to cover and explain.

“Ah. I get it. It’s dirty work.” She gives a supportive nod. “But for real if you’re leaving let me know where so I can transfer too.” She smiles and knocks the bar to order another round of drinks.

“I need to get out though, just of the hospital and my apartment...so thanks for still asking.”

“No one else we work with is any fun. They don’t wanna go to loud shows they wanna go try out some overpriced bullshit Gastro-pub- whatever the fuck that is- and I’m just...it’s not me.”

“So I’m your only single friend in other words?” She chuckles.

“Nah I actually like having you around, don’t tell anyone that though.” She knocks her arm.

“What about people outside of work?”

“Eh. We have such fucked hours it’s hard to keep in touch.”

“Yeah.” Eve murmurs. “Making friends when you’re old is hard.”

“We sound like two old married birds bitching to each other.” She slides the new drinks their way.

“Here's to acting like we’re much younger women.” They clink glasses.

“Were you much of a slut when you were younger?” Molly asks after looking over the crowded basement of the bar. A small stage shoved in the back corner and the small doorways connecting the string along rooms made the space feel even smaller than it was.

The sudden question makes Eve laugh and almost choke on her drink. “I’ve had my moments.” She shrugs.

“Because there’s this fella that’s been looking at us for a while now and -don’t fucking turn-Christ-“ she laughs and smacks Eve’s knee. “No wonder you're single.” She rolls her eyes. “And if you happened to have been a slut, and in the spirit of our toast wanted to act like your younger self I think you might have a chance tonight.”

“Someones? Looking at me? Are you sure they just don’t want to kill me?”

“Nah, he’s been playing it cool.” She narrows her eyes in the way of the guy. “Here’s what we're gonna do. I’m gonna go to the bathroom, maybe take my own little stroll around this place and see what I’ve got options wise. And we’ll give this handsome stranger a window to come talk to you. I’ll be checking my phone if you need saving.”

“You don’t have to-“

“Hush. When’s the last time you got some?”

Eve opens her mouth then shuts it, defeated with the answer.

“That’s what I thought.” Molly teases. “So tits up and hopefully we won’t see each other until work Hmm?” She pats Eve's shoulder and quickly blends into the crowd of moving bodies.

She began scanning the room. She didn’t have to wait long to find out. She saw him smoothly moving through the crowd, in all black, and not a harness or knife in sight. The moves she’d seen at training with him were reflected in the way he moved, a bit like he was stalking but he hadn’t met her eyes again yet.

He was hurriedly doing a habitual perimeter scan as he moved across the room towards her.

She sat smugly, letting him come to her, feeling as if she finally had the upper hand. They meet eyes and an almost shy but endearing smile was matched and shared between them.

“Who’s stalking who now?” She says as he gets within earshot. “Just so you know it’s always been you stalking me.”

He gives her an easy smile and slides onto the stool next to her. “I knew you’d say that.” He shakes his head. “But I’m actually not here for you tonight.”

“I suppose it was a bit pompous of me to assume.”

“Not with how weird our lives are.” He shares the casual and almost comfortable air between them now.

The training had led to the banishment of that awkward physical barrier between them rather quickly. There wasn’t as much room for chit chat at training so the actual sharing of oneself, something neither were particularly skilled at, was still trying to break through that awkward stage. Luckily they were both practiced in faking it until you made it.

“How do I know you aren’t following me?” He teases

“How would I know where you’d be? I’m not the super boy detective here.”

“Funny” he answers flatly with a raised brow before waving to order a drink. “Then why are you here?”

“My friend wanted me to go out. I had been so preoccupied with… well… y’know all this going on now that I’d been neglecting what little social life I had. So I was due for a night to just see a show and chill but...you had to show up.” She jabs back with a warm smile.

“Lucky for you I’m not here for work.” He says almost proudly as if he were proving something to her. “I have a friend in the band and wanted to have a “chill night” too. But here you are.”

“Can’t get away from me.” She beams cheekily.

“You want another drink?” He offers with a nod towards her empty glass where the ice was starting to clink as she involuntarily moved it while she spoke.

“Oh. Guess I finished it.” She laughs at herself, a short sigh before rubbing a hand through her hair. “Yeah. Why not. Fuck it.”

“What’d you have? Virgin Shirley temple?”

“Oh, he’s got jokes.” She rolls her eyes. “Give me a… Horsefeather.”

The bartender grins. “Alright, Dorothy.” Before slipping away.

“What the hell is a Horsefeather?”

“The drink of my people.” She says as if he should know.

“Are you like a...native American or something?” He asks earnestly.

She laughs and pats his arm. “Be thankful you’ve got your looks hun.” He gives a smile before looking down and trying to figure if he wants to react to the insult or the praise. “No. It’s a Kansas thing.”

“You’re from Kansas?”

She nods and hands the empty glass off to a rapidly clearing and clearly overworked girl behind the bar. “Yeah. Basically.”

“You don’t look like you’re from Kansas.” he narrows his eyes.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She doesn’t feel any hostility from him, as she’d learned he often spoke without thinking.

“You’re not...y’know...White. Wait. Are you?”

She lets out a louder laugh and he enjoys the sound of it. “Honestly Diego, I don’t know. No one ever told me. I don’t think Corpuz sounds white but what do I know?”

“You kinda look Asian.” He muses out loud.

“Stop before you get racist bro.” She warns playfully with a pointed finger. “And what? Asians can’t be from Kansas?”

He pauses and considers it. “You right.” He answers quietly with darting eyes that showed him piecing his newly formed opinion together.

She sees the lull in the conversation coming as he gets distracted. His round dark eyes were still blinking in thought under straight brows that were furrowed in the middle, currently concentrated. The beginnings of a beard, a heavy five o clock shadow covered the lower parts of his face but his lips that she regrettably had noticed were full and soft weren’t hidden from its length yet. A rub of his chin and a scratch through his almost fluffy short hair distracted her as his long and lean hands fidgeted with themselves. She was used to seeing his hair damp and flopped over his forehead from training. Tonight it was dry and styled up, same for his choice of clothes. Just long enough to cover his scalp but not long enough yet to look messy. He was always in black, which she respected as a fashion choice. Although for New York it wasn’t very abnormal as a color of choice.

Eve quickly turns the conversation back to distract him from his self-reflection. “Did you come with anyone tonight? You give off that lone wolf vibe and I don’t think your brother is small enough to even fit through the door.”

His face transforms back to it’s easy-going politeness as it does when he’s with her. “Yeah, I’m alone. Just wanted to not be a shitty friend and try to be supportive by coming to watch them tonight.”

“That’s very nice of you.” She praises. “I was guilt-tripped too.” They both share a small laugh.

“Well, I’m glad we both got guilt-tripped then.” A warm tone she could feel more than hear as he slid her drink her way. “How’s your… y’know...stuff going?” he offers as he wasn’t entirely sure how to conduct himself outside of their usual healing or training.

“It’s…” she sighs and wrinkles her nose. “Going?” she shrugs and presses her lips. “I don’t really want to talk about it tonight if that’s alright. I came out to just be normal for a night. And get back to being… whatever tomorrow.”

He nods supportively. “You wanna go grab this booth and just... be normal? No super shit tonight?”

“I would fucking LOVE that.”

--------------

Molly, the greatest wingman, stalks the bar and circles, keeping an eye on her friend who was rustier than her when it came to picking up anyone. Besides being busy, which she most certainly was, Molly was lost as to why Eve didn’t have someone. She was attractive and smart and kind. Eve was straightforward forward and most of the time that didn’t ring well with men. Eve also got into her own head too much, preoccupied with the thought of messing up, anxious that someone would take one look at her and deem her not worthy and she’d get fired and lose everything she’d worked so hard for. Perhaps her fear of being vulnerable kept her from branching out. She had a lot going for her but didn’t really see it for herself. She’d spent so long being focused on her education and career, proving herself now against the past she had on paper that she was in fact good enough. Imposter syndrome is a real bitch. Not to mention being a woman, and a minority on top of that. Or at least she assumed she was, her mother was and none of the super-powered people knew who their father was. It was enough to be a woman in the medical world, but being one with slight monolids and an ambiguous face and skin color made it even harder. If she was professional, her face was read as cold and bitchy. A strong jawline and not super soft and feminine features made her unable to pull off the damsel in distress routine to slip under the radar unassumingly with her male colleagues. She’d had a terrible upbringing, rough and wild adolescence and now was trying to find her place in the midst of having powers and navigating adult life.

But Diego understood all that. He was the only person she’d ever met that could even possibly begin to understand what she felt. So as it does, shared trauma can create intensified bonds where other’s never existed before. So perhaps that’s why she felt so at ease as soon as she understood who, or what he was. It was almost as if a built-in trust came with his intense eyes and confident actions. Feasibly, that’s why they spent the majority of the night pressed shoulder to shoulder, shouting into each other ears from inches away in a booth, smashed together by the crowd of people around them. As the number of drinks rose, the inches between their bodies dropped.

They sat together as two ordinary people, sharing musical taste and stories of shows past. They drank and laughed and to anyone else they seemed like a cute couple on a date, sitting close with no show of awkwardness between them. After you’d had someone's head between your thighs, covered in both of your sweat and bruises from your grappling the previous day, sitting together seemed like nothing. And it also felt that way, effortless.

What surprised Eve the most about the night was how easy and fun it was. The conversation kept going despite the noise. There was even harmless flirting that she was realizing was a built-in thing with Diego. He was a professional, he was raised to be able to manipulate and know how to engage with people. But she never once felt like it was fake or forced. The crinkles in the corners of his eyes when she’d be inches from his ear and make him laugh led her to believe this was all genuine no matter how unreal the whole situation that brought them together felt.

“Thanks for getting me home,” she says with no slur but the warm buzz of alcohol being felt in her stomach and face.

“Can’t let anything happen to you now can I?”

“I”m trying to not let anything happen for myself….” her eyes go distant before fumbling with her keys. “Can we do some training that’s like… I wanna be able to hit, y’know?”

“You wanna do some boxing?”

“Yeah. I think I do.” she nods and roughly shuffles into her apartment. “I wanna hit you in the face.” she says seriously before they both snort and start laughing.

“Join the long line, honey.” he says with stretching arms. “I’ll find ya some gloves.” he nods in thought. “Tomorrow, if you’re able to anyway,” he smirks,” We’ll get started on learning what it feels like to take a hit.”

“I’m not that drunk.” she says with a wrinkled nose of playful defensiveness. “I’ll chug a pedialite and be fine.”

“Spoken like a true doctor.”

“Or a true alcoholic.”

“Too bad you can’t heal your own liver huh?” he teases.

“Maybe that’s what I'll work on next.” she says as she sighs, the tiredness setting in. “My brain training. Not the body.” she clarifies. “We’ll do punch kick beat em ups and I’ll try to heal the damage this stress is causing.”

“Punch kick beat em ups?”

“Shut up I'm drunk.” They both laugh and she reaches out to hug him. He didn’t expect it but he certainly didn’t deny it.

“Oh are you THAT drunk?” he smirks and looks down at her.

“You fuckin’ wish.” she snorts into his chest before pulling away. “We were...being like..normal for a minute. For tonight, I mean. I needed it, thanks. That was… the hug, why I hugged you... to thank you.”

“You’re starting to ramble now, go on and get in bed.” he turns her body and pushes her into the apartment. “You’re welcome. I had a good time too. It was nice to just…” he shrugs. “Not be me for a few hours.”

She nods and starts sitting her things on her counter. “I know what you mean.”

“That’s some depressing shit.” he stares at nothing in particular for a moment.

There’s a pause of reflection before they both laugh again. “At least we can bitch to each other?” she offers. “I’m glad you got stabbed Diego.” she chuckles.

“What the hell?” he laughs at her as she pats his arm.

“We wouldn’t have met otherwise ya idiot!” she shoves him back into the hallway lightly.

“Oh. I thought you were having some hella mood swings or somethin’.”

“Hella? This is New York son, not Cali.” she teases. “Get out of here before you say something else stupid and I decide I can’t be friends with you anymore.”

“That's the most solid and hurtful advice I’ve been given in a while.” he tips an invisible hat to her.

“I got plenty more!” she calls out to him as he leaves. “See you tomorrow!”

He raises a hand, a cute spin to face her, and walk backward. “Get some rest. I’m beatin’ your ass tomorrow.” he gave her a big smile that they both kept on their faces long after they were out of sight.

@s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s @jaegeeeeer @diegos-butt @anglovesthis

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves fanfic #diego hargreeves fic #david castenada #the umbrella academy #diego gargeeves x ofc #diego hargreeves fan fiction #diego hargreeves au #tua #tua fic #tua fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfic

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xlady-saya · 4 years

Text

if magic exists, you’re the closest thing [fic]

Relationships: andrew/neil, jerejean, side aaron/katelyn, side alvarez/laila

Summary: The concept of love is not one Andrew understands.

For a long time, it escaped him. It's always fuzzy, always distorted. He'd given up on it long ago, so why is he still chasing answers?

Whatever the reason, he's content to blame Jean Moreau for a lot of things, Katelyn too.

It's their fault he's here, at the happiest place on earth.

Tags: disneyland fic, andrew thinks a lot about love, fluff, comfort, references to canon abuse/past

Read on AO3!

Andrew never liked the concept of time travel; there’s no one distinct moment he’d go back to personally, no tragic world event he’d try to stop like in the movies.

However, due to today’s events, he might just forgo that opinion to say he’d gladly go back to make sure Disneyland never existed.

Then, maybe he wouldn’t have to listen to Kevin’s nagging.

"You two cannot blow off Jeremy Knox!" Kevin rages, hands planted on the kitchen counter as Neil deftly works around him. Andrew's not quite sure what he's doing; he asked Neil for some ice cream a few minutes ago, and the sounds of clattering dishes and spoons are way more interesting than whatever Kevin is saying.

Andrew leans back into his beanbag chair, content to demolish Aaron in Mario Kart in the meanwhile.

"Yes we can," Neil says, like it's the simplest thing in the world. Andrew almost smirks.

It is; there's no way in hell Kevin's making them go to Disneyland on top of scouting recruits in California. Andrew doesn't understand why Queen Day can't just make another pit stop in Los Angeles after visiting the other recruit he has lined up in Washington.

Andrew exhales slowly, trying his best to keep his attention on the screen while he thinks about Neil. He's not sure when that became so difficult.

Alas, Andrew knows why he's being forced back to California. Neil cares far too much about Exy and his duties as vice-captain to miss out on something so essential. He picked out some of these recruits this time around, and he wants to see them in action. However, in this case it's not even one of his picks, and all they need to do is drop off paperwork. Neil has been trying, futilely, to convince Andrew he doesn't need to come.

The consideration is appalling. Andrew's grip on his controller is enough to make the plastic creak. Neil knows all too well California is a sore spot for him, but not the area they're going. Andrew couldn't care less.

Besides...Andrew's not letting Neil travel that far all alone.

Nothing, not even his past, is going to keep Andrew from going with him to make sure he doesn't die or worse. It wouldn't be a problem if Kevin were accompanying him, but he's got his own recruits to scout.

Neil is capable, Andrew thinks. He doesn't need protection, but it won't stop Andrew from offering it.

He chooses not to think about how one day, he'll have no choice but to stay behind. One day, he'll live apart from Neil and have to trust that he'll be okay.

He swallows down the dread he doesn't want to acknowledge, and claims first place.

"Motherfucker," Aaron spits, but immediately clicks the next level for them. If he can sense Andrew's mood, he doesn't comment, but...this helps.

And then he hits Andrew with a blue shell, and Andrew has to wonder why he shared a womb.

Andrew channels the uncertainty elsewhere, like kicking Aaron's ass and listening to Neil wave Kevin off. The rest of the time, he blames his nerves on the five hour flight he'll have to make in the very near future.

"We're not going," Neil says again, firmer this time. It's a tone that always sends Andrew's protective instincts into overdrive, Neil's temper flaring. But, it's just Kevin, which means there's more amusement than danger at play here.

Neil simply doesn't want to deal with it, so Andrew finds his voice. "Fuck off."

Kevin sputters, no doubt whipping around to where Andrew is sitting. He's not sure why Jeremy Knox is so set on taking them to Disneyland, but Andrew doesn't care enough to think about it. He's trying to do the bare minimum on their trip, and the USC Trojans are trying to make life difficult.

As Kevin groans on, Andrew hears the slightest indication of Neil stepping towards him. Neil's walk is distinct, in that it's nonexistent. Andrew often tests his hearing on how well he can sense Neil's approach.

And then, Neil is in front of him, and the world narrows until it's just Neil, crouched down with a bowl in his hands. Andrew hates what he's begun to call the Neil Effect, since it really has no concrete explanation, at least not an acceptable one. He gets second place in the game, and ignores Aaron's gloating for once. He'll get him back later.

There's something proud in Neil's eyes, self-directed, and that's when Andrew looks down to the bowl of ice cream.

Ah, now he remembers.

They hadn't been able to go grocery shopping, so the only thing in the freezer was boring vanilla. Disappointing, but Andrew's sweet tooth didn't care at the time. He needed dessert, no matter how lackluster.

However, this isn't just vanilla ice cream. There's large chunks of Snickers and peanut butter cups mixed in, haphazardly so, but well enough that someone obviously put in the effort.

Someone being...

Andrew looks between the bowl and Neil's steadily brightening expression, unwilling to linger on the fact Neil took the time to become a Cold Stone apprentice for the sole purpose of pleasing Andrew. It's all a waste though, because when he takes the bowl from Neil's hands, the reluctant words come out anyways.

"You're it for me."

It's not really a confession, since Andrew has known this for a while, but it still stings his pride a bit.

Neil blinks at him, tilting his head in that way that has Andrew glaring extra hard. "Hm?"

"Nothing."

He shoves the biggest spoonful he can manage into his mouth, and deserves the icy burn he gets for it.

Thankfully, before Neil can pry, Kevin is back at it again. Andrew's not sure if it's for better or worse.

The Queen himself rounds on them, blocking the television. "One of the best strikers from one of the top teams invited you to hang out for the day," he says, solely at Neil. He knows well enough that Andrew doesn't care about ranks. "How does that not excite you?"

An appropriate question, though. Why wouldn't it excite Neil?

"I don't know anything about Disneyland."

Neil plops down next to Andrew, indifference well conveyed. However, Andrew knows better. The restlessness in Neil's muscles is slight, but not surprising. There's a lot of things Neil doesn't know about, and while he normally wouldn't care, the idea of a place known for crowds of people probably isn't something Neil wants to explore.

It's not like the striker grew up with any exposure to the hundreds of movies or songs.

"It's an amusement park you loser," Aaron chimes in, and Neil scowls at him. Andrew pauses mid bite, surprised. A little. His brother's brand of comfort is the exact opposite of the what the word entails; it's a contrary, scathing thing, nearly as bad as Andrew's. But Andrew can detect it still, and that was definitely it.

Not that Neil would know though. The striker crosses his arms and sticks out his tongue, but Aaron's attention is already on getting Kevin the fuck out of his way.

"I don't care, I don't want to go," Neil responds petulantly, the words eaten up by the harsh impact of a pillow hitting Kevin's stomach.

At least he moves enough for Aaron's game to resume.

In the middle of Neil's protests, the door opens, admitting another one of Andrew's problems.

And she's unpredictable on top of it.

"Hi sweetie," Katelyn calls, punctuated by the slam of the front door. Andrew tries not to cringe at the name, nor his brother's dreamy sigh as Katelyn waves at them all. She walks over to kiss Aaron on the cheek before her attention is back on Neil's constipated face, which she blows past without a second thought. Oh, to be a cheerleader. "Go where?"

Kevin tears his gaze away from Aaron at the reminder. "Neil, you have to go to Disneyland, just fucking deal with it. You might be able to get some helpful pointers from Jeremy. Plus, don't you want to check on Jean?"

A cheap trick, and one that absolutely sours Andrew's mood despite the sweetness in his mouth. The protective itch is back from hearing Moreau's name, and he tugs Neil a little closer out of necessity.

Another reason for them not to go: Andrew's not sure he can stop himself from murdering the ex-Raven. Victim of Riko or not, he'd put his hands on Neil.

"If he wasn't doing okay I'm sure he would've reached out on his own," Neil counters, seeing through Kevin's appeal to sympathy. Neil, while he gets along with Jean better now, doesn't worry about him nearly as much as Kevin does.

Kevin can visit him then, if he's so curious.

As if Andrew said the words aloud, Kevin's stare intensifies. "Are you kidding--"

"Wait," Katelyn interrupts without care, and Andrew actually looks at her. He's been giving her that privilege a lot more now. Not everyone is dumb or brave enough to cut Kevin off, and even the striker looks impressed. Andrew's immediately thrown by the quality of her stare, the determination. Neil makes a strained noise in the back of his throat, and well, he does know Katelyn better. "You guys are talking about Disneyland? Like...Disneyland Disneyland?"

The existence of a knock-off Disneyland is certainly a topic Andrew will explore with Neil later.

"Oh no," Aaron whispers, and that's all the warning they get.

Neil leans further into Andrew's personal space, almost guarding. Like he senses the catastrophe too. "Uhh, yeah?"

Katelyn screams.

Andrew's hand on the back of Neil’s neck keeps him from jumping out of their seat, but Katelyn's got a one track mind as she rushes for him, plopping down on the ground as Aaron checks his ears for ringing.

The only satisfying part is that Katelyn pushes Kevin out of the way in the process. He goes reeling back with a yelp, very unbecoming of royalty.

"Oh my god! Neil you have to go, it's so fun!" Katelyn cheers, clapping her hands together softly. She chooses then to show Neil her backpack, adorned with about 100,000 Disney pins. Just an estimate.

As if Neil knows what any of them are. Neil barely blinks at Elsa's face before Katelyn's back to talking his ear off. "I've been trying to get Aaron to go with me for months but we don't ever have the time. I have a super long list of stuff I want! If I give you the money will you get them for me?"

Katelyn bites her lip rather hard then, like she almost let a 'please' slip, and Andrew doesn't try to think about the consideration. Katelyn clasps her hands together instead, like a plea.

Andrew figures the only reason her forehead isn't on the floor is because she knows better than to have any faith in a boys' dorm room.

"Whoa, whoa," Neil says, raising his hands in the face of Katelyn's puppy eyes. "I'm not going--"

The puppy eyes turn into those of a Rottweiler. Andrew doesn't know why all his previous judgements are being so twisted on this mediocre Thursday night, but whatever.

"Neil," Katelyn breathes, patience tested. "It's the happiest place on Earth."

Andrew's eyes flit to Neil's, communicating the same thing: bullshit.

Neil's confused expression falls into downright boredom, watching Andrew swirl the remains of his dessert. "Katelyn, I don't know how to tell you this, but I actually don't care."

Aaron wheezes at the same time Katelyn deflates.

"Josten--"

"B-but..." Katelyn turns her shining eyes on Aaron, cutting off his warning like a shiv. Andrew almost doesn't want to watch his brother be this pathetic. "Aren't I right, babe? Neil just has to experience it, he has to!"

Andrew hears Kevin open a bag of chips.

"I--um," Aaron tries, glancing between Neil and Katelyn's pout. It takes him about...two attempts to make words. "Yeah Josten, you have to."

"Wow," Kevin mutters, off to the side.

Neil glares at Aaron's weakness, but he had to know Aaron would be useless from the start. Aaron can't say no to his girlfriend.

What a loser.

"Katelyn, I'm not going," Neil tries again, dutifully not looking at the Disney-vomit backpack Katelyn keeps inching closer to him. "Andrew and I are just stopping by to drop off paperwork for one of Kevin's new recruits and that's it."

Kevin takes a deep breath, like he remembers he started this argument in the first place, but is cut off by Katelyn's backpack hitting the floor.

Neil is the only one who seems to take it as a threat, and he holds up a hand for Kevin to shut up. Now, Andrew knows most mafia movies are unrealistic and stupid, but he thinks he's had enough actual exposure to make a good guess.

This feels like some kind of standoff between two troublesome redheads, and he meets Aaron's confused stare with his blank one.

He wishes everyone would get out of his dorm.

"Okay, I get it," Katelyn says slowly, words spaced out by deep breaths for effect. Andrew would think she's a theater major, not biology. Neil watches Katelyn's hands fold in front of her, eyes hard. "I didn't want to have to do this."

Neil quirks a brow, somewhat amused.

"Neil."

"Katelyn."

"You owe me," she says, and the room freezes. Owe. Haha. That's a very dangerous word to toss around in the presence of Andrew Minyard, especially concerning his boyfriend who he's sworn to protect. Andrew turns on her with a frown, but she's undeterred by his ominous stance, fixed solely on Neil. "From the time. With the thing."

Katelyn flips her wrist back and forth then, an almost meaningless gesture, and no one knows what she's talking about

Except for Neil.

The striker's face goes red, and Andrew chooses then to squeeze the back of his neck tighter. Neil's not panicking, Andrew knows, but it's an instinct. Katelyn's smug smile is starting to piss him off, and he shakes Neil sharply.

"Neil," he says, voice even despite the tension in his limbs. "What--"

"We're going to fucking Disneyland," Neil says with a groan, slumping into the edge of the beanbag chair. He looks far from distressed, more...like he's been bested.

Katelyn cheers, jumping up to hug Aaron, who still has no idea what's going on.

Same.

"I'll get my list ready!" Katelyn rips out her science notebook, nearly tearing some neatly written equations. Not that she cares, in the moment. "Oh Neil, you're the best!"

Andrew drags Neil by the chin until their gazes meet, and Andrew hates when Neil looks sheepish. It means he's up to no good. "Neil, she can't force you to--"

"She's not forcing me," Neil sighs, tugging Andrew's sleeve until he lets their fingers link together. Neil's smile is rueful as he slots his eyes over to where Katelyn is scribbling on her homework, and he makes sure no one is watching when he slides Andrew's hand against his cheek. "Trust me when I say...I made the bed I'm about to lie in. I honor my deals too. Okay?"

Neil is such a problem, because he knows Andrew too well. He grinds his teeth, but he comes up with no argument. It's Katelyn, so it's not like the deal Neil made is anything life threatening or degrading, but Andrew's curiosity is annoying regardless.

Maybe when his pride dies down a little, he'll ask.

"Whatever you say," he scoffs, but keeps Neil's hand tucked against his side. "I still didn't agree to--"

Andrew looks down to where Neil fiddles with his shackle bracelet, still shining around his wrist because of how well the striker takes care of it. Neil tilts his head, and oh, oh no.

Andrew glares at the offending gift, given by his own hands and delicately tied around Neil's wrist. If he knew it would be this much of a weakness, he would've thrown it in the ocean.

"Andrew?" Neil asks, squeezing his hand, and Andrew doesn't know what to do other than curse Katelyn, himself, and then Walt Disney.

"I hate you," he mutters, and Neil's all too happy to hear it.

It takes Andrew about five minutes or so to determine that Jean Moreau is in love with Jeremy Knox.

It takes even less time for Andrew to decide he doesn't give a fuck. In fact, Andrew's not sure why he notices in the first place. He doesn't care about those things, but maybe it's just that they're so obvious, Andrew's can't help but pick up on it.

The long glances, the way Jeremy keeps reaching up to fix the stupid headband on Jean's head...

Gross.

The landscape in Andrew's mind has a tremble in it today, so there's no way for him to tell for sure why the two of them are so apparent to him. The air around him gives him a lot of things to linger on; disjointed laughter, cheery music, and less upsetting, the smell of fried desserts. It ties a rope around his brain and leads him in different directions, leaving only Neil as his weight. No wonder the Jean Moreau shitshow managed to slip in there somewhere.

Andrew doesn't even have the energy to be annoyed at that, at his inability to reign himself in and decide what to cast aside or focus on. His gaze scans the massive crowd in front of him, behind him, painfully aware that he's surrounded.

That Neil is surrounded.

He sighs, and the sound makes his boyfriend flinch in relief. Like he forgot Andrew was there, and is now all too happy that he is.

Calm down, junkie.

Andrew's fingers itch for a cigarette, but that ship had sailed as soon as he stepped through the Disneyland entrance. He thinks this, but he's actually not particularly anxious. He's not Neil, who needs to know all the quickest ways out of a place and who takes a large crowd as an invitation to slip in and disappear.

That's mostly where the itch comes from, Andrew realizes with only some irritation; he's hyper-aware of Neil, and all his reactions. The striker keeps glancing around at the streams of people, the bright colors and signs inviting them to a landscape with no laws or reason.

It should be everything Neil hates, and Andrew watches his blue eyes trace the cobblestone and directories.

"Beautiful isn't it!" Jeremy gestures to the road leading up to main street, and some of the tension in Jean's shoulders notably dissipates. "Did you know Disneyland brings in an average of--"

"50,000 people a day," Jean deadpans, as if the thought still makes him queasy. He gets a genuine laugh out of Jeremy for it, so Andrew guesses that was the point all along.

Andrew remembers everything, and he did not need that useless fact. But alas, now it's stuck.

Neil's body is surprisingly still beside him. Calm.

Andrew pauses, waiting for Neil to show some sign that he can't handle this. It's not a reflection of any kind of weakness Andrew thinks he has, he simply knows that sometimes Neil pushes himself where he shouldn't. Andrew considers this a loophole in their non-finalized deal. He lets Neil fight his own battles, but Andrew is not afraid to step in and put a stop to the ones Neil doesn't know he's in.

But, to Andrew's unintentional relief, Neil doesn't look two seconds from a panic attack. The striker’s face settles into a deadpan expression, a habit stolen from Andrew himself. There's no tremble, or fidgeting, or sign to tell Andrew to drag Neil back to their hotel and hole him up there.

Neil simply looks fucking done, and Andrew couldn't agree more.

Their unfortunate companions are there to remind them it's only the beginning.

"Oh my god, what should we do first?" Jeremy Knox babbles, stupid Mickey ears on his head, and Andrew watches with only some amusement as Neil leans back an inch in fear. The striker never did know what to do with genuinely happy people. Katelyn, he's come to understand based on the things they have in common. Their protective instincts and tempers ghost over her sheltered lifestyle and talkativeness, though Andrew still doesn't get how Neil stands her. Renee he simply hadn't trusted; Neil had seen the darkness beneath the smiles, but in time, he'd come to trust and value her as well.

Jeremy Knox is a different story, and currently even Andrew doesn't know how to feel about him. Such optimism and ignorance to the real world are things Andrew would normally write off in a person, but there's something swimming beneath the surface in Jeremy Knox's eyes that has him rethinking.

In short, Andrew gets the vibe that if pushed far enough, Jeremy Knox might actually have the capacity to snap over Disneyland. Disneyland.

That kind of madness is something Andrew can't help but recognize in people, and he keeps an eye on Neil as a result. He should've known; who gets custom Disney ears the color of their fucking school?

"Uh..." Neil tries, but he's apparently speechless. Andrew reaches down to tug on Neil's belt loop, and he won't ever say it's out of comfort. Neil takes it like one though, scooting closer, and the urge for nicotine is less powerful for a moment.

There's no avoiding it, and he despises feeling trapped. They're going to have to spend their whole day here. It really isn't their kind of place, but Andrew has not right to wonder how they got roped into this.

Andrew glares at Neil’s bag. He didn’t bring it for them.

That's why they're here, because Neil has a two-page souvenir list in his backpack courtesy of Aaron's girlfriend.

Andrew's scowl returns at the memory, and he turns it on Jean.

Just because.

"Jean, what's your favorite ride?" Jeremy asks, eyes shining. Neither Andrew nor Neil asked for the recommendation.

"Indiana Jones," Jean answers, seemingly without thinking too hard on it, and his eyes shine when Jeremy beams.

"Mine too!"

Gag.

Andrew's opinion of Jean Moreau has not improved over the past year. Andrew promised Neil he wouldn't confront the man while they were actually at the park, but it's a talk Andrew will eventually have if he has anything to say about it.

He's different though, that much Andrew can tell. The backliner still curls in on himself, making himself as small as can be despite his height. The tattooed '3' is dark against his pale skin, but the sun has taken out some of the starkness. Jean always keeps his hands in front of himself, as if ready to guard against an attack, but his shoulders are less stiff around his new team.

They're observations, nothing more. Andrew couldn't care less about Jean Moreau's life or happiness. It's all his own to deal with, but Andrew cannot ignore the changes, since they mirror Neil's own.

Speaking of Neil...

He's still trying to find a polite way of telling Jeremy he has zero clue about what Disneyland has to offer, and Andrew notes that Neil must've sensed it too: Jeremy's batshit opinion about this place. Otherwise Neil would never hold back the usual bluntness.

Andrew would pay to see it.

Jean tugs one of Jeremy's Mickey ears, gesturing to the entrance. "The girls are here."

Neil's demeanor breathes a little when he sees Laila and Alvarez approaching; he likes them, and even Andrew knows they're not nearly as annoying as their teammates. They're walking hand in hand, the same Trojan ears glistening on their heads.

What is it with these people?

Andrew lets the greetings fall into the background, but can't say he feels awful when Laila cracks some dumb Exy pun, making the edge of Neil's lips twitch in a smile.

Another thing the girls have to offer: they seem to know when Jeremy is about to launch into another tirade.

"Jeremy cool it," Alvarez says, holding Jeremy back by the hoodie before he can get anywhere further into Neil's bubble. "Neil's not going to remember everything about all the different sections, just let him explore."

For a split second, Jeremy's face scrunches up, like he ate something foul. "He needs to know not to go to....that place."

Laila rolls her eyes. "You mean Star Wars--"

"Stop."

Laila turns her aggravated stare on her girlfriend, but all Alvarez offers is a shrug. "He's right."

Neil turns to Andrew as if he'll understand, but he does not.

Jeremy's eyes flit around the park to all the decorations, the crowd a sea of Mickey ears, planning out where to drag them. And the rest of them allow it. Team dynamics don't interest Andrew much, but they're not following Jeremy out of fear. They're treating this journey, along with Jeremy's eccentricities, as inevitable and maybe even endearing.

Andrew wants to leave.

Then Jeremy gasps, staring down at his empty hands. "Neil, you and Andrew have never been here right? Maybe I should've gotten you a map, for the experience, you know?" Then Jeremy tilts his head up, in that haughty way Kevin might after lecturing them on an exy skill he acquired. "It's fine though, I know where everything is. You're in good hands!"

Andrew seriously doubts that.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Jeremy says, plopping his giant backpack on the floor. Andrew wonders if he packed for the possibility of them being stuck there for eternity. It's a gift for Jeremy Knox to be able to make Andrew's day that much worse. He pulls out two custom sets of ears from his backpack, styled in white and orange. Palmetto colors.

No.

"You guys can match," Jeremy says with a wink, and Neil looks torn. On one hand they're orange, on the other hand they're absurd.

But of course, Neil's obsession wins over, and he grabs for a pair of ears without hesitation.

Andrew can't.

"I'm not wearing those," Andrew states, uncaring of how the rest of them flinch. Neil's the only one not surprised, but he's giving Andrew that face, and Andrew has to hold himself back from telling Neil to stop.

We're in public, control yourself.

But Neil just sighs, fixing the ears to his head. They clash with Neil's reddish-brown hair, bright and sparkly.

Andrew hates being gay.

He ignores Jean's glare as Jeremy holds the other pair of ears to his chest. More evidence, Andrew realizes, and the pathetic kind too. Jean can't stand the thought of someone hurting his not-boyfriend's feelings.

"O-oh," Jeremy says, but his smile is back, undeterred. He spins to face Neil, who miraculously, doesn't flinch. "Well, I guess I'll wear them then! Neil, you and I can match! I don't want you to be alon--"

The stream of consciousness in Andrew's head comes to a jarring halt, tires screeching.

Unacceptable, absolutely not. He doesn't even have a moment to think about why, or stop himself from being so ridiculous.

He snatches the ears from Jeremy's hands and puts them on, refusing to meet Neil's smug stare.

"Shut up."

And thankfully, Neil does, but others do not.

"He's as bad as you babe," Laila whispers behind him, and he practically feels the heat radiating off Alvarez.

"Can it."

Andrew catches Jean's sigh of relief in his peripheral, and isn't quite sure why he agreed to not kill him in the happiest place on Earth.

"You guys look great!" Jeremy comments, but Andrew is already walking ahead, eager to be anywhere else.

That, and he's pretty sure the churros are this way.

Neil keeps up with him easily, given his strong legs, even knowing Andrew is deliberately trying to not look at him. Neil's gaze is a warm, affectionate thing, one Andrew will never be used to. Neil's so distracted, he almost trips, and Andrew hooks his arm around Neil's waist to right him. They're connected for merely a second, but Andrew's arm feels like it's on fire.

"Focus," he growls, but Neil doesn't take it as a threat. He never does.

"Mm, I can't," Neil says. "I like them. I like them on you."

"They're hideous."

"So our uniforms are hideous?"

"Yes."

They reach the churros, and Neil buys him three.

Jeremy starts to babble again as Andrew digs in, and Andrew can't help but notice he buys Jean one without being asked. The ex-Raven doesn't look super pleased with the sweetness, but he eats it anyways.

And throughout all the chatter, Jean won't stop staring right at Jeremy.

Why does Andrew keep noticing? He might just be able to blame Katelyn for that too.

Ever since he picked her up from Eden's, she's been responsible for a lot of unacceptable thoughts in his head. All because of one, stupid line of reasoning.

"I know, I know a lot of people use the word and they don't mean it, or they don't act like it but...that's on them. That's not real love, the actual thing, the definition. Just because people use the word incorrectly doesn't mean the feeling isn't real."

Real love. Already, there's so many things wrong with that phrase. Katelyn doesn't see it as subjective, Andrew doesn't see it as anything at all. Devotion, protective, consideration...they are all things people would perhaps put towards the definition, but they neglect the absences as well. Absence of hurt, of blame, of judgement.

That's the half so many people don't get right, and even if they do, Andrew cannot see how it could be wrapped up in a word.

He watches Jean sigh and lean into Jeremy's sphere, and thinks of how his brother looks at Katelyn. It's eerily similar.

Andrew would not use the word love normally, so he reaches in to pluck Katelyn's idiotic definition out from the past to see if it applies. The pretty parts are there; Jeremy is constantly aware of Jean's presence, careful to steer him to the edges of crowds, to check if he's alright. On the opposite end of things, Jean just looks like he'd burn the so called happiest place on Earth to the ground if it meant being able to listen to Jeremy's prattle.

He's not willing to analyze much more than that, not with Neil by his side. It puts pressure on the stone in him, dropped there by Katelyn that night at Eden's and steadily growing with every moment he spends around his boyfriend.

"I think we should definitely go on Indy though," Jeremy says, leaning in to take a bite of Jean's churro. It's so stupidly romantic Andrew wants to vomit. "I want to see Jean get scared again!"

The girls smirk, though a minute later Alvarez is teasing Laila just the same. Jean's face is colored red, not with shame, but innocent embarrassment. Not becoming of a Raven, but then again, Jean never wanted to be one.

"I was not scared, I had never been on the ride before!" Jean crosses his arms, and his teammates look at him in the way the Foxes look at Neil. Complete adoration.

"It scared him to death," Jeremy says to Andrew and Neil, trying very poorly to whisper.

And, without breaking eye contact with Jean, Andrew says: "If only."

Because really, if only.

Jean's the only one besides Neil who takes the statement as intended, as in completely seriously. The backliner's face goes white, staring at Andrew and waiting for it to be a joke. He has to know deep down it's not.

Jeremy holds his stomach from how hard he's laughing. "Ha! You're a riot Andrew," he wheezes, and Neil regards him as neutrally as he can. It's hard, when Jeremy sounds like a dying seagull.

Andrew pulls out his phone, avoiding Neil's gaze. Technically, he only promised not to physically confront Jean at Disneyland, nothing else. "That's me, comedy king."

Without looking up, Andrew opens his notes app and sidesteps Jeremy until he's closer to Jean. He has no qualms about calmly typing out the words 'I despise you' before showing it to him.

Honestly, no other Raven is this easy to read, but Andrew supposes it has more to do with Jean's complete revival than anything else.

Jean reads the message, blinks, looks at Neil as if to confirm his suspicions, and then nods slowly.

Well, now he knows. It'll be a good way to put a pin in things for now.

When Andrew walks back over to his churro holder (see: Neil), the redhead is shaking his head, grin way fonder than it should be.

It takes around fifteen minutes for them to ditch the group, and for Andrew to stuff his pair of ears into Neil's backpack to never see the light of day again.

It's absurdly easy, they barely have to duck into the crowd or put their heads down. Despite Jeremy's insistence that Andrew and Neil see all there is to see, he'd hardly taken his eyes off Jean. In fact, the two are so engrossed in each other they barely notice the girls, who seem to weirdly not mind.

Jeremy is the talker, and Jean is only too happy to go along with it, soaking in every nonsense opinion even when he seems to not understand the relevance or importance. Andrew wonders if this so called 'love' truly makes people that uncaring, but then again, he knows it does. He's watched his brother fawn over every dumb little detail of Katelyn's life. Once, she'd gone on a ten minute tangent about her colored pencil coordinated note taking system. Aaron had been fascinated, not because he cared about the content of the words, but because of Katelyn herself.

Andrew doesn't understand, but his mind conjures up the image of Neil peeking over the top of a bus seat, the hours floating by.

They find a good spot to sit down on Main Street near the castle, perfect for the people watching Neil likes to do. Andrew's on his third churro with a fourth lined up, and if Neil's wallet is crying about it, he doesn't seem to mind. The striker's legs dangle lazily from the bench they're on, swinging in time with the cheery music blaring through the speakers. Andrew brought him here to escape the crowd; Neil always preferred to watch, to catalogue the different types of people. Disneyland, at the very least, should have an interesting variety for Neil to judge and pick apart for the nonsensical survival guide in his head.

Page ninety-two: signs of regret-filled parents. That's how Andrew would guess it's organized.

But no, Neil's staring right at him. Andrew could feel it mid chew, the striker's gaze penetrating and brighter than any of the thousand balloons he's seen flying around.

Andrew managed to hold out for about half a churro, no longer, before giving in.

Neil's triumphant smile is an indication he was all too aware of the game.

"Are they good?" Neil asks, and it's enough to make Andrew pause. He watches the way Neil adjusts those stupid ears on his head, the way he licks his lips to mimic the place Andrew assuredly has sugar on his own.

Rather than answer, and before he does something stupid, he shoves the end of the churro into Neil's mouth. It's not an uncommon occurrence.

Neil barely yelps before dutifully taking a bite. Andrew waits for the usual scrunch of his nose, the disgust at the sweetness. Still, Neil will never refuse something Andrew offers him.

"Not bad," Neil says, chewing slow. There's sugar on his lips now too, and Andrew realizes he made an error. "Still too much sugar."

Unheard of. There's no such thing.

With a scoff, Andrew wipes the excess sugar off Neil's lips with his thumb. "You disgust me, Josten."

It doesn't sound as convincing as it used to, and Neil's triumphant smile only grows wider. Only then does he sigh and lean back, staring into the sea of people who love wasting money. Andrew will never get the fascination.

There's a good distance between them on the bench which Neil hasn't tried to close, and won't until Andrew says otherwise. Andrew's not in the mood to feel his weight, not today. It wasn't brought on by anything specific, but Neil abides like he always does.

Neil doesn't seem any less content.

"I can't believe they haven't noticed we're gone," the redhead says, far from disappointed. The relief is something Andrew can relate to. It's been about an hour, and they've done nothing, but Andrew knows he's having a better time this way.

The last thing he wants is to watch Jean and Jeremy obliviously flirt and fawn over one another with no outlet. Andrew's not sure if they'd be worse if they were actually dating, and part of him considers just dropping the bomb on them to ruin any kind of movie moment they might have at this godforsaken place.

"I can," Andrew mutters, but doesn't elaborate. He's sure Neil hasn't actually noticed the pining, not with Andrew nearby, and certainly not with everything else going on. He doesn't need to know, because then they might have to talk about it.

Andrew doesn't have all the words for that yet.

Neil hums, interpreting the words in his own way. "Jean does seem...better. I guess he would be more focused on his friends. At least now Kevin will stop complaining, I'll get to tell him Jean's doing just great."

The topic of Jean Moreau isn't much better.

He's not able to keep all of his glower locked down, and he ends up making a passing school teacher flinch. "I don't care how he is," he says through his teeth, and Neil stiffens.

Yeah, wrong thing to bring up. Not as bad as the times Neil will drop his mother into conversation, but not good regardless.

Neil sighs, fiddling with his bracelet again. It's what he does when he wants to touch Andrew but won't. "Andrew, Jean is--"

Andrew turns the intensity of his stare on Neil. They've had this talk before, and he's not trying to bring it up again. Contrary to what other people may believe, he's not adverse to having difficult conversations with Neil. Arguments, even.

They happen, but...

There's something about it; Andrew won't say it's comfortable, but he simply knows it won't change anything. He and Neil disagree sometimes, but it seldom turns into a screaming match or the silent treatment. More often than not, Andrew's willing to keep coming back to a topic if it means they reach a compromise. He doesn't yield that way for anyone else, but Neil doesn't make it feel like submission or defeat. It's why it doesn't make Andrew nearly as antsy as he originally believed it would, when they started their this. For them, it's problem-solving.

This however...this is one thing Andrew can't excuse. Not yet, maybe not ever. They keep having to step away.

"Don't," Andrew says. Neil's eyes hold no fear, and they shouldn't. Andrew's not saying it unkindly, it's the truth. "Whatever you say will not change my mind. Not with this."

Not when it comes to people hurting what's mine.

Andrew's hands curl into the edge of the bench, the splitting wood a comfort. He's strong, his hands have the power to kill, to fend off. Why that's so important in this moment...

When Neil still doesn't look like he understands, Andrew reaches forward to flick the shackle pendant around his wrist, almost on instinct.

And well, guess it's become a weakness for them both.

Neil sighs, and bites his tongue in a rare show of restraint. The striker keeps back every counterpoint and argument, which he surely has handfuls of, and puffs out his cheeks. Any other moment it would be...maybe not so annoying.

But not cute.

Some of the trembling in Andrew's frame leaves; he's not dumb enough to think this is over, Neil is too stubborn. But for now, the striker accepts it.

Though, not without being infuriating. Neil's gaze pierces him, sticking Andrew to the spot.

"I'm safe with you Andrew," Neil breathes, and Andrew's not willing to acknowledge how Neil quickly aims for the root of the problem. It's a spike through Andrew's chest. Again, Neil races ahead of Andrew's own thought process at the most random times.

So that's it. Andrew thinks. A promise.

It won't happen again. Neil has no way of knowing that, but he wants Andrew to believe it; nothing will hurt Neil so severely again because Andrew won't allow it. Andrew will thrash and bleed before it happens again, but Jean Moreau is a reminder that it can, even when most of the guilt falls on a dead man. There will always be others, lurking in the shadows. Weapons, threats.

But still, with all his paranoia, Andrew can't even tell Neil to be quiet, because to refute such a statement feels wrong in a number of ways. Neil's trust is something he earned.

Andrew hums instead, and refuses to repeat the obvious. Instead, he pushes Neil back by the shoulder, his back hitting the bench and forcing Neil to loosen up.

Better.

"I can't believe a place like this exists," Neil sighs, giving into the calm Andrew lends him. Andrew's not sure if he means it from the perspective of a runaway or not. Disneyland would be an enigma to most people with Neil's past.

"You don't feel happy?" Andrew says with a sneer, taking in the fighting families and crying children. He knows there's equal parts people smiling and having fun, and he's choosing to center himself on the negatives, but he's not in the mood to apply Bee's advice for once.

"Well if I did it would be because of you," Neil says, grin smug from the stare Andrew turns on him. No one needs his sappiness. "But I don't really like that word."

Haha.

Andrew pokes Neil in the leg, more like a jab, and Neil jumps. "Stop stealing my lines."

Neil snorts. "I just meant in terms of this place. Doesn't it feel untrustworthy from the get-go if you advertise your park as the happiest place? It can't actually be."

It's amazing how hard Neil's brain works when it comes to unimportant topics. "Careful, if Jeremy hears you he'll have a meltdown."

"That would be interesting though."

"And potentially homicidal."

Andrew makes a note to bring Kevin if he ever has to return here. Kevin won't be able to keep his distaste hidden, and he'll get to really test the Jeremy Knox theory.

"Have you ever been to an amusement park?" Neil asks a moment later, voice low. Treading lightly.

It's not a particularly bad memory for Andrew though, and he only shrugs. He's no longer shocked about how much he talks to Neil. It's easy, not draining.

"Mostly for school, I wouldn't waste time with the rides," Andrew says, and feels the memory of old dollar bills in his hands. Sometimes he'd be lucky enough for his foster homes to provide him money for food, sometimes not. "Carnivals were easier. I could just go off and find some abandoned corner to smoke or wait it out."

No one ever cared to come looking for him.

Despite his sweet tooth, he seldom had the actual money to spoil himself with the fried foods either. He makes up for that now, obviously.

Speaking of, he wants a frozen lemonade at some point.

Neil's eyes are devoid of pity, but Andrew knows he could quickly turn that understanding gaze into a rage-fueled one if he chose to provide any of the details.

He doesn't. He never enjoyed things like amusement parks, and he doesn't mind either way if Neil does, but part of him is simply at ease, here on this stupid bench.

Neil's protection can't reach back into the past, no matter how badly the striker would like it to.

"Everyone always talked about Disneyland as the best place in the world," Andrew offers instead, waving his hand around. If anything, the sheer size of the park is the most impressive thing about it. The other kids in his classes couldn't let it go; family vacations, dream dates, etc.

The hype around the park never died down no matter how Andrew aged.

Compared to Neil sitting next to him, the park is without.

"And your verdict?" Neil asks anyways, because he tries not to assume when he can.

Andrew's not sure why his heart reacts the way it does to that.

Neil's stupid ears pair with his Palmetto hoodie perfectly, and he looks like the pumpkin Cinderella would've taken to the ball. The fierceness of him isn't softened in the slightest by it though, his vulnerability comes from his eyes, the way all his alarms become inactive in Andrew's presence.

Andrew craves it, this complete, unyielding trust.

He hates how Neil can make any situation interesting.

"It's annoying," Andrew eventually says, rolling up his churro wrapper into a tight ball. He misses the trash can when he tosses it, and ignores the disgruntled stare he gets for it from a park worker. "Not awful."

Neil straightens up, too proud of himself. "Are you saying that because of the churros or because I'm here?"

"Be quiet."

Neil, because his death wish inclination isn't as active today, doesn't point out the non-answer. The striker just hands him money for another churro, though he's considering beignets.

Neil watches the way Andrew stares at the money, seemingly content to allow Andrew this indulgence. "I remember kids talking about it when I was younger. I could never understand why such a crowded place could be so fun. Much less the lines or overpriced food. But..."

Andrew clutches the money tight, but it's a poor substitute for Neil's hand. "But?"

"But well, it's not like I ever got the chance to try it out." Neil gestures to the precise decorations, the ornate buildings, and his eyes flit down the trolley lines like they remind him of a destination far worse. Andrew never asked Neil if he train hopped before. Neil sighs, his nose scrunching from the sweet, candied scents in the air. "Maybe I would've loved it. Then I'd be a lunatic like Jeremy."

It's meant to be a joke, but Andrew understands. That's the strangeness of the unknown. Had things been different, had they been raised like anyone else, there's no telling what they could've been like.

But things weren't different. Andrew isn't foolish enough to reflect on the past with bitterness or entertain what he could've been like if only. The asinine exercise would do nothing for him, for his future.

The future he's coming to anticipate and accept, because Neil also refuses to look back. It's still a globby, hard to see mess right now, but the more days pass with Neil by his side, even it begins to take shape.

But he doesn't have room in his chest to say all that, so instead he tugs on Neil's headband again. Snug.

"You're already wearing the ears," he drawls. As if Neil forgot, his hands fly up to tug on one of the ears, and Andrew is helpless to save the image forever.

"I should probably take them o--"

"No."

Just...no.

It's hard to make Neil blush, but when it happens Andrew makes sure to catalogue it. He watches the color spread on the bridge of the striker's nose, and then Neil laughs, a light and fleeting sound. Andrew hears it over everything else.

Neil turns on the bench, hugging his knees to his chest, and Andrew is moving to face him without thinking about it. "I feel like...if the others were here they'd say we're wasting the opportunity," Neil muses, pursing his lips. "Like we should be going on rides and watching shows."

"That's everyone's problem then," Andrew waves the thought off, tracking Neil's lips. He's not ready for a kiss, but he's warming up to the idea.

But, Neil seldom brings up things pointlessly with him.

"It is," Neil agrees, and Andrew presses his thumb into the crease of his boyfriend's brows. Neil doesn't flinch. "But they might be right. I guess I can't expect to have the same opinions now as I did as a kid on the run. I should at least be able to say, yeah I went to Disneyland slightly more adjusted and I still don't see what the big deal is."

Ah, the point emerges. Andrew will admit...

"You don't seem anxious," Andrew observes, because he expected Neil to be very nervous.

Neil tilts his head, and Andrew has to make him stop doing that. "What?"

Andrew leans back, and Neil follows the touch instinctively before getting a hold of himself. "If you really felt you were wasting time, you'd be all fidgety and irritating."

"I didn't say I felt like I was wasting time, just that I maybe should," Neil sighs. Andrew isn't sure what he means, but he doesn't have time to think about it when Neil's impish grin comes back. "But no, any time I spend with you isn't a waste."

Andrew leans in, slow and insistent, and lets Neil tense in anticipation of a touch, a kiss. Then, Andrew pushes his face away. It's what he deserves, and Neil bites his tongue.

Huffy.

Neil slumps back, but the pouty thing he's doing dampens the scowl. He needs to not spend so much time with Katelyn.

"You've become a sap, rabbit."

And it's dangerous for both of them. Andrew doesn't mean for the words to come out so light, but what's the use in correcting himself?

"I get it from you," Neil shoots back, and oh, now he chooses to read Andrew's mind. At the twitch of Andrew's mouth, Neil smiles, the kind reserved for Andrew and Andrew alone.

Andrew's nerve endings are still a little fuzzy, but he tugs Neil's sleeve until he follows. He brings Neil close enough to feel Andrew's heat, to smell the cinnamon. This works, for now.

And Neil, despite being somewhere people dream of visiting, looks totally focused on him. When he gazes down the trolley lines again, the expression is much more promising.

"Who knows? It might be fun if we went now, with all the foxes," Neil wonders aloud. "Not sure, since I think the closest thing to a ride I've ever been on is a train, and not legally."

Well, there's the train hopping question answered.

But that's it, he supposes. He feels nothing about this place, or any amusement parks for that matter. Even in his tumultuous childhood, he experienced them, never understood the appeal.

Neil's never had the opportunity to try. He's never been able to form an opinion.

Andrew thinks that's at least one aspect of his freedom Neil should have, even if it is something so trivial.

Andrew sighs; what has he gotten himself into?

Neil Josten is a whirlwind of an individual, but he's Andrew's.

That's what Neil would say, without hesitation, every time.

'But I'm yours.'

Andrew really does need a cigarette, but that frozen lemonade will have to do. He stands up, making a show of brushing himself off. He can feel the tilts of Neil's head behind him, for fuck's sake.

"C'mon then," Andrew says, turning around to adjust how crooked Neil's headband is. Another problem he didn't need, but it's too late now. Damn merchandise. When Neil still makes no move to get up, Andrew tugs his bangs. "Let's go on a ride."

Neil's jaw opens and closes, but Andrew is already turning away from him. Neil's fast, he should be able to catch up. "W-wait, are you sure?"

Neil scrambles to his feet, and Andrew can't look directly at him. He's sure there's something bright and shiny swimming in those eyes right now, and that's far too much.

He tries to go through his mind for what he knows about Disneyland, and asks himself if he's in the mood to be up high.

No, not today. Neil has him feeling far too much already.

"I think the Matterhorn is enclosed," he says, in lieu of an explanation, and knows Neil will get the meaning.

Neil grips the straps of his backpack, reigning in the energy as best he can. Andrew wonders when he'll work up the nerve to tell Neil he doesn't have to when it's like this. Even without touch, Andrew promised to take everything Neil had to offer.

He's not sure if Neil can sense the feeling, but his face softens anyways. "Okay...yeah!"

Neil falls in step beside him, and Andrew revises his previous statement with only mild displeasure. He doubts he will ever have enough of this.

The Matterhorn was, what a shocker, a bad idea.

Andrew will never say he tries to make his driving a comfortable experience, but he knows his road raging still would've been a more pleasurable time than being thrown around on that poor excuse for a ride.

The bumpiness of the Matterhorn was also not helped by how tense he was; he felt like a cutting board in a blender, trying to force away the unrealistic thought of Neil flying off the edge and plummeting to his death during the whole two minute affair.

A forty-five minute wait for two minutes of back pain that'll last the rest of the day.

"Well that sucked," Neil says with a wince, stretching out his back slowly. Andrew pointedly looks elsewhere. "Why do people do this for fun? I feel like my spine got ripped out and then put back in the wrong way."

Andrew wants to tell him to stop being so dramatic, but for once Neil's words are accurate.

They tried. No one can say they didn't try.

"Nevermind you were right," Neil says as Andrew orders them a lemonade to share; Neil ignores the glare Andrew gives him for chugging the first half in one go. Neil sighs from the rush of citrus, placing the cold cup to his forehead. "Can we go home?"

"Doubtful, unless you want to walk," Andrew sighs. He retches the lemonade away from Neil, pushing away his grabby hands. An admirable tactic, but fruitless. "I knew carpooling was a stupid move."

"Hey, we take offense to that."

Neil tenses on instinct, like the hypocrite he is. He's so used to being the shadow, the nosy meddler who overhears everything. Andrew would think he's more than deserving of being on the receiving end if he wasn't so annoyed himself.

They turn to find the girls grinning ear to ear, and Andrew notes right away how there's no smiling bundle of 'I love Disney' with them.

Jean and Jeremy are nowhere to be found.

How 'bout that.

Alvarez unlinks her arm from her girlfriend's to ring out her damp shirt; Andrew notices they're soaked from head to toe, sneakers squeaking from their drenched socks. It makes Andrew grimace on the inside; it should feel atrocious, but the girls are beaming.

"So you two do act like a couple," Laila says, and Andrew's not sure he gets what she means. He does decide she's his least favorite of the two though. "I had some doubts."

Andrew couldn't care less about that, but Neil's a different story. Defiantly, Andrew silences his boyfriend before he can even go on his tirade by shoving the lemonade back into his hands.

An acceptable sacrifice; Neil's aware they don't seem like the stereotypical couple, but he hates having his feelings doubted.

He hates it even more when people doubt Andrew's, and Andrew pushes the thought of Katelyn's suspicious expression at Eden's out of his mind.

What other people assume about him is not his problem.

"Why didn't you just buy him his own lemonade?" Alvarez asks, her eyes flicking over Neil's expression. He's calming down, but the aggravation is there. Guess not all the Trojans are oblivious.

Andrew takes the bait for what it is, no energy to be contrary.

"Neil doesn't need that much energy, and he'll drink mine no matter what because he's annoying," Andrew says, and sure enough, he hears the slurp behind him, an alert that Neil basically sucked down the rest of his drink.

One down, several to go.

"It's true, I am," Neil chimes in at that, refreshed. It's then he actually seems to pay attention, scanning the girls from head to toe. "Why are you guys all wet?"

Laila claps a hand over Alvarez's wolfish grin before she can even respond to that, and Andrew is glad. He really didn't want to hear it.

At least Neil would get the joke this time.

"Splash Mountain," Laila replies hastily, like they have any clue what it is. "Horrible build-up, decent pay-off. Jean hates it though so it's the best way to make sure we don't run into them."

At her own words, she checks behind her, like Jeremy Knox can appear at the mere mention of his not-boyfriend.

They probably shouldn't stay in the same place too long.

"Outside Star Wars anyways," Alvarez adds, prying Laila's hand off her mouth for .2 seconds.

"Hush, he'll hear you!"

Then, Alvarez must lick her girlfriend's hand, because the goalie retches away with a disgusted yelp. "Hey! Gross!"

"Wow, you don't love me."

It's punctuated with giggles, and Andrew stuffs his hands in his pockets; why that word decides to plague him today, he's not sure. He wouldn't say the girls act as useless as Katelyn and Aaron do, but their dynamic is still distinct.

Affectionate.

Andrew turns his hard stare at the ground. No, no. It's still not right.

Neil, oblivious to Andrew's plight, squints at the empty space where Jean and Jeremy should be. "Wait...you guys ditched them too? Why?"

"They had the same idea as us," Andrew mutters, but Neil's lightbulb still hasn't gone off.

Laila's grin is as sardonic as it gets. "Ah, so you noticed?"

Andrew doesn't respond. He's steadily reaching his word quota.

Knowing the only chance of Andrew saying anything is by asking himself, Neil turns to him, too searching. "Noticed what?"

And oh, Andrew can't avoid talking about it after all, can he? He's not sure why he doesn't want to, there hasn't been much cause for concern with Neil lately. Not for months. Maybe not ever, but Andrew had been in denial there for a while.

Perhaps Andrew just hates being in this limbo, where he doesn't even know how he feels about a topic yet. It's happened before, but it's no less disconcerting than the other times. The jealousy, the concept of understanding, their first time...

His mind, a traitor, reminds him none of those situations ended horrifically.

"Moreau is in love with his captain," Andrew mutters, and watches the moment Neil blanches. No stopping the floodgates now. "Original."

Something in Neil's gaze twitches. Andrew's hasn't seen the look before, but it's surely not good for him or his pulse. Andrew turns his stare to the ice cream cart in the distance, but his sweet tooth is done for the day.

Another unfortunate reality.

"God, so they really are that bad," Laila groans. "For a second there, we thought it might just be us."

Alvarez scoffs, crossing her arms and putting all her weight on Laila. It must be a common occurrence; Laila huffs, but makes no move to push her away.

"We've been trying to get them together for ages," Alvarez continues, twirling her finger around like a never ending cycle. "We ditch them literally every single time in the hopes they finally have their moment."

Both their expressions fall then, truly defeated. Laila sounds at her wit's end, and Andrew feels little sympathy. "But, no such luck."

Andrew can't even begin to pick apart how uselessly optimistic that is when idiots are concerned, but Alvarez seems to be tracking his every movement for some type of reaction. He should've never said anything, but she'll learn soon enough; he's not an easy read, despite a hot-headed outlier.

Neil blinks at them, a complex math problem with cliche romantic plots instead of numbers. "They're...into each other?"

The look he gets from the girls is similar to the pitying ones he gets from Allison whenever he says something particularly misguided about fashion.

Laila puts her hand on Neil's shoulder, patting him slowly. "Oh Josten, your face right now tells me all I need to know about you."

Then, the double shot of pity is poured right down Andrew's throat.

"You got an oblivious one too huh?" Laila says wryly, and Alvarez chokes.

"Hey."

Andrew won't dignify that with a response, but he figures it's obvious anyways.

Laila snorts, tugging on Alvarez's ear lobe. "But yeah, Jean totally wants to husband Jeremy. It's so painful. Disneyland is supposed to be romantic, but--"

Alvarez finishes the thought with a fart noise. Andrew's not sure why he speaks up, the conversation is so beneath him, and he blames Bee. He never used to talk so much before he realized that it actually helped his mind move down the endless river.

"Movie moments like that will never happen," Andrew says, nothing condescending or dismissive about it. It's the truth; he learned long ago that the grand gestures people expected seldom come to fruition. They could sit Jean and Jeremy at the table for two with violins playing around them and it most likely wouldn't do any good.

People won't do anything until they're ready to acknowledge how they feel, and even then they might not. Andrew never thought that was such a bad thing; shutting down a feeling, weighing the pros and cons of a decision until ultimately trying to be rid of it.

It was better that way.

He knows though, had he never let that go, he wouldn't have Neil next to him.

He also knows Bee would call that a good thing, the release of a way of thinking that he's yet to acknowledge as completely outdated.

None of that realization shows on his face.

"You sure sound fun," Alvarez mutters, but she's smiling in a way Andrew hates.

"Andrew's the funnest person I know," Neil adds, unhelpfully adding to the upbeat of Andrew's heart. If Neil could stop ruining the English language on purpose that would be great.

The girls wait for Neil to reveal it as a joke, but seconds of Neil's blank stare kill any chance of laughter.

No, Neil is completely serious. And maybe he's right, after all the good Trojan captain himself did call Andrew a riot.

Laila purses her lips after a moment. "Right..."

"Anyways, you better get a move on if you don't want to continue enjoying your date," Alvarez says, glancing behind her suspiciously while checking her watch. Laila's hand entangles in her girlfriend's, and Andrew notices the charm bracelet there. He wonders if it's a gift from Alvarez.

He's seen a similar, custom one on Katelyn's wrist for the longest time. He's about to ask himself why people are so obsessed with buying jewelry, before realizing he's in the same boat.

When did he come to permit this?

Ugh. He's not running around that particular race track again. "It's not--"

"We're going to go get drinks in the Star Wars cantina," Alvarez interrupts, hastily beginning to tug her girlfriend in that direction. Guess it's later than she thought. "Jeremy will come this way soon. He has a very specific itinerary."

Of course he does.

"Any...slow ride suggestions?" Neil asks before they go, and Alvarez squeaks when she runs right into Laila's strong back. Neil steadfastly ignores the glare Andrew sends him, though if they do have to go on more rides, Andrew would prefer something smooth.

The Matterhorn can burn.

"There's the storybook ride?" Laila says, pointing behind them down the path. "Or It's a Small World?"

Alvarez huffs. "There's a joke there somewhere..."

Andrew doesn't mean for it to happen, but his memory is a steel trap, with a layer of unpredictability wrapped around it. He can't stop it, can't turn it off. For the briefest of moments it brings him the image of a homely kitchen in California, his fingers tracing the carvings in the table while he watches Cass cook dinner. It smells good; he remembers. Of course he remembers, the dish, the ingredients, down to the stains on the tile and which cabinets were open.

The song Cass hummed from between her lips.

He'd never heard the real song, never cared to look it up online or search up the ride itself. But he knows the name, knows the tune.

"What's that?" Neil asks, and whether he means to or not, his voice pulls Andrew out of it. Not even just that...Neil has a way of firmly planting Andrew in this new reality he's forged and tailored.

For the better, Bee's voice reminds him.

Laila smiles, no doubt connecting the ride to memories of her own. Happier, softer memories. Andrew could have those too, if he wanted. It would just take some revision, overwriting. "It's just a boat ride, and it kills time for sure."

Just a boat ride. That's all.

Neil nods, turning to Andrew while the girls walk away. It's getting later; Andrew can tell by how blue Neil's eyes get, highlighted by the darkness. They're haunting in a way, like the unexplored bottom of the ocean. Horrific things lurk in the depths, but there's something pleasant about them too, calming in their mystery. Maybe because to Andrew, and only Andrew, it's familiar territory. Andrew has never felt that level of ease from something, but Neil's stupid expression is too soft when he speaks. "How about it?"

How about it? Hm.

Andrew looks off into the direction Laila pointed in, debating on if he should put himself through that. Is he ready to put himself through that?

He could take this step, he reasons. He could try to overpower the terrible memory with one of Neil, with the feeling of his weight beside him. Is it worth it? Will it work?

No, he can't think of it like that.

It won't erase anything; Andrew's not so naive to think he will ever be rid of the image in his head, the sound of Cass's voice. But...maybe he could make the crystal clear image blurrier, faded around the edges until his mind wavers, until he can no longer make out the scenes as well as before. Instead, his brain will default to Neil in the future. Whenever he hears the cheery tune, Andrew will think of his stupid headband and sugar-kissed lips.

Stronger, sturdier memories.

He's allowed Neil to implant them before, and it hasn't backfired. The process is not always easy, or without pain, but it's been worth it every time. Andrew sees no reason to mess with a working strategy.

Andrew grabs Neil's wrist, the firmest contact they've had all day, and something in him sighs at the same time Neil does.

He leads the way.

As soon as Andrew hears the tune as they enter the tunnel, he wonders if he made a mistake. Not because of the memory, though that's definitely there. No, it's the tune itself.

The music is loud, repetitive, with no lull. He's not sure how someone can work on this ride and not quit immediately. He should've expected it though, so the blame is on himself. It won't be over anytime soon either. The boat they're in is moving at an agonizing speed, but it's a relief for his back. The slow glide makes him painfully aware of the soreness in his legs, the heaviness of his eyelids.

The spotlights are pointing at the monuments and walls, leaving the riders in the shadows. If Andrew squints, the people in the boats ahead of him look like nothing more than silhouettes for the briefest of moments. Unreal, specters.

The song continues, and Andrew reevaluates. It's too late to get off the ride, and the song might be called fitting; there's a weird eeriness to it, along with the surreal feeling of the park noises being completely blocked out. It's silent, for being so loud, so irritating. But after a while he's sure he'd become numb to it, and then what would be left?

All he can hear other than the singing is the gentle slosh of the water and the occasional hushed voices of the people in front of them. Like the wind. He feels like a ghost on the ride, wispy and drifting in and out of centuries. The tune is ageless, has probably been around for decades, long before Cass started to hum it.

Somehow, it's a comfort. Cass had been insignificant, another way to separate her memory from the ride itself.

Some of the tension leaks out of his shoulders, and having Neil beside him lessens it further. There are two free seat rows in front of them; the line hadn't been too long at this time of day, and Andrew feels an inkling of gratefulness.

It's the closest thing to privacy they've had all day, he realizes, and some of the fuzziness from earlier dissipates. The static in his brain has had time to even and sizzle out; it's taken hours for him to get to this point, but when Neil lets a quiet 'yes or no' pass between them, the answer is easy. Certain.

Andrew pulls Neil against him, and Neil follows it up by entangling their fingers together. He hardly hesitates anymore, doesn't treat the gesture like something with an expiration date. Andrew privately thought it would be the case, but...he's yet to be tired of it.

It's not so rare anymore, holding Neil's hand.

They pass the first display of dancing puppets, just as the song repeats 'it's a small world after all' through the speakers. Andrew can feel Neil's wry smile before he sees it. "It really is a--"

"Finish that joke I'll kill you."

Neil throws his head back in the first sign of genuine joy from a ride, and Andrew thinks this is already better than anything else they'd previously done. It's less intensive, with just enough chaotic energy to appeal to Neil's sense of humor.

They're not the type of people usually caught dead on these kinds of rides, but the creepiness feels warmer than any of the other joyful displays Disneyland had to offer. Neil's laugh echoes off the high ceilings, and he smothers it quickly.

But Andrew's mind remembers, and he plays the cut off sound on a loop far more intense than the tune of the ride itself. He mixes them together, until they can't be pried apart.

When they pass the German section of the song, Neil looks at him expectantly, and the look Andrew gives him is unimpressed. Mischief dances in his boyfriend's eyes anyways, and again, it's not cute. It's not like Andrew is going to suddenly start singing along just because it's in German. Though, Neil's reaction might be worth it.

Neil critiques the lyric translation anyways, like it's not the simplest song to mass produce.

"This isn't so bad," Neil sighs as they pass under another archway to a different section of the very small world. His finger is starting to tap along on the back of Andrew's hand, and he's not sure if he should put an end to it before it gets stuck in Neil's head. Then he'd have to hear Neil humming it over and over, and while not as traumatic, there's only so much Andrew can take.

"Other people would probably call it torture," Andrew says, gesturing to the lifeless faces of the puppets. He wonders if there's any conspiracies about this ride online, he's sure Neil would get some morbid kick out of them.

"Wimps," Neil replies haughtily, and no, Andrew's pulse does not jump. “I’m a torture connoisseur.”

He bastardizes the word so bad Andrew almost feels bad for France. Almost. When did Neil start thinking he was funny?

"That's not even remotely how you say it." Andrew untangles their hands purely for the purpose of flicking Neil's earlobe. Neil grabs for it again as soon as the punishment is doled out.

Junkie. "You speak that language..."

But Andrew's accusations mean nothing to Neil, per usual.

"I'm dumb remember?" Neil reminds with a shrug, and Andrew grits his teeth. He's still unsure how he feels about this; Neil's mind is vast when it comes to a lot of things. Languages, math, world knowledge, how to kill a man, basic things.

But otherwise...the ignorance can be...

Attractive.

Andrew almost gets off the boat from admitting it to himself. Dumb jocks with runner's hearts is a type he guesses, and it happens to be his.

Or, scratch that. Neil can't possibly fall into a group. Had more than one Neil existed, the mafia would've surely met their demise as a whole through a combination of violence and general dumbassery.

"You milk it on purpose," Andrew decides to say, because Neil does. Because no, Neil's far from dumb, he just knows what gets under Andrew's skin.

Neil chooses not to respond to that, predictably.

"It's just not as bad as I expected," Neil continues, leaning his head against Andrew's shoulder. He gives a long sigh, and Andrew's sure it can't be comfortable. As at ease as he is in Neil's presence, there's always a hardness there, a tension coiled in his body. Yet, Neil leans into him like a pillow and seems to cherish the steadiness.

For a while, they just listen to the song.

Andrew's not quite sure if he agrees with the message, but he doesn't care in the moment. He's come to acknowledge lately that he shares quite a bit with other people, much to his chagrin. Though in the grand scheme of things, he's eons away from them all.

Primarily, he doesn't like to think he could replicate this...feeling, whatever it is.

Certainly not enough to assign an overused word to, one stamped onto every relationship like a barcode. 'I love you.'

He's never admired the words when other people used them. Is that fair, he wonders. Does it matter? He's stuck between a rock and a hard place; the need to be contrary itches at him. He shouldn't want to feel that way, shouldn't have to label this feeling as love...

And it doesn't feel right anyways.

He does not want to fit an insincere mold, but he doubts he and Neil ever could. They never have. This would not be so easily destroyed, toppled.

They simply share too much, and Andrew thinks back to his goal of replacing every bad memory with Neil. That's not an accident, or a desperate quick fix. That instinct is there for a reason...

Cass. Funny how his two separate problems seem to come together. Cass is an appropriate example. Andrew knows, better than anyone, that she hadn't loved him in Katelyn's definition, if that's what love even is. If love can be broken down like that, if it's real. Devotion, consideration, loyalty.

Andrew sighs; he can't go that deep into it. It's too much, bogged down by layers and layers of terrible experiences that have only just begun to be pushed aside like weeds. Never ripped out. The roots have taken hold, but they're withering.

Maybe it's because he's so tired of thinking about it that the words come out. He peers down at Neil against him, at the top of his head where the auburn curls are so within reach, and confesses to Neil's crown. He doesn't blame the need to admit things to Neil as influenced by love, it can't possibly be so contained. He just...something pushes him to work this out. "Cass would hum this, every now and again."

Andrew's not sure what he wants the reaction to be, but when Neil responds, Andrew's soul relaxes, so it must be what he needed. Neil goes rigid within an instant, robbed of the peace afforded them. Andrew didn't mean to throw it into their quiet bubble, but he doesn't regret it. These things aren't inconvenient. Andrew gives these pieces of information to Neil now, like he always has. Willingly, and they're received in kind.

Neil shoots up, eyes frantic when they meet Andrew's. He sees so many things in those blue eyes: rage at Cass, concern for Andrew, and things Andrew didn't ask for but will receive for as long as Neil is here. Neil looks frantic, and two seconds away from dragging them as far away from this place as possible.

Neil's voice is a whisper, sharp and desperate. "Why did you--"

Why indeed? Why come on this ride?

Andrew's puts all his boyfriend's worry and guilt into an early grave.

"I hate having her in my brain," he answers, and knows it's not an excuse. Being on this ride is far from traumatic, more therapeutic than anything, but he almost recoils. He's only ever admitted those things aloud, the pent up resentment and anger, in the privacy of Bee's office. Even then, it's pulling teeth. For so long he framed his time with Cass as the only blip of light in his life. But it had come with a price, and Andrew knows now it hadn't been remotely worth it. For so long he tried to protect that outlook, but now he wants it stained, blacked out. He just never knew it would be so hard to blot it out with his own hand.

And if that was not love...

Neil flinches, but Andrew keeps going, daring him to say something. He needs Neil to know he's serious, so he makes it personal, shared. "You're the obnoxious one, telling me to overwrite things all the time. That's what this is."

That's why I'm okay with this. It's you.

Andrew can see the moment Neil remembers; they'd been sitting on the roof, and Neil had asked him to only remember the good things, even if for just a moment. Andrew's not the best at employing this, and sometimes he vehemently denies the ability to do so, but not with this. Not today.

That feeling cannot be replicated; Andrew turns the idea in his head again and again, never getting closer.

But one thing is certain...

Neil's expression softens, and Andrew squeezes his hand before he flicks a look up at the bright orange monstrosity on Neil's head. "Now, this ride will just remind me of how terrible that headband is," he says, and Neil should at least be able to read between those lines. "Nothing else will come first."

I will latch onto you instead. Andrew never wanted that before, to cling to some idealized outlook again. But Neil is not that; Neil is painfully real. Sometimes he misinterprets, other times he keeps too much to himself. But at the end of the day, Andrew trusts him to do whatever it takes to remain by his side for as long as he chooses to be there.

Andrew is the same way; he can't go back to how it was before.

Andrew's not paying attention to the displays around them anymore, but he can feel his mind melding the images and the tune together with Neil's expression. Open, vulnerable, welcome.

Neil sighs a moment later, muscles relaxing. Not once does his hold on Andrew loosen, but he knows better than to pry about Andrew's past. Andrew has made it clear; this moment is not about an old memory.

Neil leans back, moving further into Andrew's space. "Mm, should I say something else annoying, make the moment stronger?"

And ah, back to normal already are we?

Andrew flicks the back of Neil's hand. "You just did."

He'll log that away too, as aggravating as it is.

"Yeah..." Neil breathes out with a laugh, his thumb rubbing small circles into Andrew's skin. Physical touch, muscle memory...Andrew needs all of it for this to work. He gladly focuses on that while Neil thinks; Andrew can tell solely from the crease in his brow the striker has more on his mind.

Neil's not necessarily like Andrew, he won't keep these things to himself for prideful reasons. He needs to let them out, or they will eat him up.

He's bad at hiding it too.

"Hey Andrew," Neil says eventually, and Andrew's ready for the words before they're even in the air between them. He'd been expecting this, dreading it, but not okay with putting it off any longer. He needs Neil's help, unfortunately, to piece it all together. "You said Jean was in love with Jeremy."

One day if life is especially cruel, and Andrew outlives Neil, he will make it his mission to pick the man's brain. Something in that stubborn subconscious always seems to anticipate the winding roads Andrew is currently stuck on, even when Neil actually has zero clue.

He's not so upset by this anymore.

Carefully, Andrew turns Neil's palm over to trace the heart lines. If he put them on a map, would they cross through all the places Neil's been? "I did say that."

And he's been re-thinking about if it's true. Who knows if Jean and Jeremy are actually in love. As much as he likes to compare them to his brother's and Katelyn's nauseating displays, affectionate looks and blushing cheeks can't be all there is to it.

Andrew had been stupid to chalk it up to just that. Not even Katelyn would've. And if that's the case, Andrew might never be convinced of Jeremy and Jean's feelings. Attraction sure, but he doesn't care enough to dig deeper.

There's not an equation to test levels of protectiveness, or comfort, in order to determine an abstract and troublesome thing like love. And why would he need to test his own feelings against such a thing anyways? He knows...he knows this is something he will keep for as long as he can.

"I thought you didn't use that word," Neil offers when Andrew is quiet for too long, debating on the best angle to attack this from. Neil tends to do that, when Andrew himself hasn't figured things out yet. If he poses questions that open up other doors, it clears the mess away. He notes how Neil says 'doesn't use' instead of 'doesn't like' or 'hates,' because it's true. Andrew isn't repulsed by the word, just annoyed with it and all its aspects. He does not get it.

It's like he told Katelyn...

"I don't, but only because it's untrustworthy," Andrew replies, rubbing the back of his neck. He's not making sense, not even to himself. He's simply trying to see if he's open to the idea of throwing out his old opinion, the one where the concept of love is something twisted beyond recognition. Fake. Overly reproduced.

It's far more difficult a feat than simply overwriting a bad memory. This feels more invasive, but Andrew knows he wouldn't be thinking about it if there wasn't something important lodged beneath.

Neil squints, unaware of Andrew's turmoil. "So you were insulting them?"

The game show buzzer in Andrew's head rings; nope, that's not it.

"I was applying Mrs. Minyard's definition..." Andrew tries not to sound too bitter. The whole reason he even let this issue cling to him is because of Katelyn. She's the worst.

"Katelyn?" Neil asks, but doesn't question further after Andrew nods. Andrew assumes he's used to this, and it's entirely likely he's had a similar conversation with Katelyn. Andrew won't think about that either.

Neil nods. "Okay well, do you care if they figure it out?"

Again, Neil strikes out, but it helps Andrew to eliminate the background noise in his head.

"No, it makes no difference to me," he says. He couldn't care less what becomes of Moreau's romantic life. "Though it would be annoying if we have to do this again."

Another forced outing surrounded by dense morons...

Andrew's had to deal with enough obliviousness.

Neil smirks. "You know, Kevin might flip out if they get together."

Ah, another rare pro...

Neil leans away, regarding Andrew like he's taken on a new sleuth role. He rubs his chin too, to add to the drama of it. Maybe Andrew should get him a monocle, if he's going to be this much of a fuck. "So...if you don't care if they realize it, why think about it at all? I'll be honest, I didn't think you'd care about something like this."

Andrew's not quite sure why or if he does either. It doesn't have to be a thing that applies to them, if he doesn't want it to be.

Their this is unique. Andrew had been so resistant to using the word 'love' because it had been spit on and turned to bile, misused by people throughout his life. But in doing so, he ignored the times people used it genuinely. In the past, he would've contested that. He would've said it was never genuine, never earned. The commercialized concept wasn't something he'd let himself have in common with others.

But lately, Andrew finds that having some things in common with certain people isn't reprehensible. And in this case...

Aaron's voice comes barreling through his head, steering Andrew to destinations he couldn't find before. And well, now he knows why his brain can't let go of Aaron and Katelyn as his go to example.

"Our feelings for them are the same."

Yes. Andrew had slowly begun to accept that. Maybe that's why his brain wouldn't write off Katelyn's words so easily.

Begrudgingly, Andrew admits there's a lot more to his brother's relationship than pure affection, even when most of it is behind closed doors. Katelyn had been there through the worst parts of Aaron's college life, and she'd never once judged him or ignored the ugliest bits. Not even when he hated her, could Andrew look past those things. They meet her own definition, and Andrew's simply choosing to extend some trust to his brother. Aaron says he's in love, so Andrew believes him even when he doesn't believe in the feeling's history, in the way it's manipulated.

And well, if his feelings are the same...

Well, he guesses he can try to accept that too.

"I was testing it," Andrew answers, without much struggle. Katelyn's definition, any definition. Andrew looks at Neil straight on then, and the striker's grin fades. Something crosses over those eyes, like for once Andrew is ahead of him. "Love. I think I'm trying to decide if I...want to say it."

If I want to say 'I love you.' If it applies at all.

Not need, but want.

Is it something heavy, or is it something inconsequential?

It feels wrong, but Andrew knows he's reached the crux of his problem. This is where all his restlessness stemmed from, his observations about Jean and Jeremy, about the girls...

It had nothing to do with them, but everything to do with whether or not he'd ever want to have that in common with them.

He'd ignored the fact he most likely already does.

But the words...he never would've bothered before. They don't mean much, other than the weight society has put on them, and Andrew's never cared about that. He doesn't need them to know this is something sturdy in his life, and he doubts Neil needs them either.

It's more...this is another thing life took from them, took from Neil. They've never expected to regain everything; they never feel like life owes them.

It has nothing to do with that. It's just the same as with a lot of other instances; Andrew wants to give these things to Neil, because Neil is his.

Does there have to be some deeper explanation or justification for it? Even if there is, Andrew stops looking for it.

He waves off Neil's shocked expression, and doesn't ponder why it's there in the first place. He's been in the wrong before, assuming he's the only one who thinks about stuff like this. It's possible this has been on Neil's mind too, but that's not the point.

"I don't mean now, or anytime soon," Andrew corrects. No, no. He's not there yet, and it's not like it's some milestone they have to reach. Andrew doesn't like to think it could encompass how he feels, but maybe his biggest issue with this is that...he's not sure he hates the idea of it anymore. The word. One day, he might be able to say it and know it means a lot more than what other people think about it. And that would be enough. "But one day."

The shadows of the displays wash over Neil's expression, and Andrew can't pull anything out of it. Neil stares, hand still curled impossibly tight in Andrew's.

Andrew won't take back anything he said, but Neil's silence is beginning to unnerve him. He could have overstepped he realized, he should've asked for Neil's opinion at some point, weighed it against--

"You know, Aaron talked to me about this once," Neil offers finally. It's not what Andrew's expecting him to say. Then, Neil's face twitches, and Andrew can tell he's...holding back a smile. "That night you picked Katelyn up, we talked about...yeah."

Yeah.

Andrew knows the gist of what happened, Neil filled him in. Guess he didn't reveal all the details though.

Neil's laugh is a breathy, comforting thing this time. "He made me think about it. He asked if I loved you."

Neil smiles wryly, an expression he's begun to pair with Aaron lately. It's not a glare or scowl nearly as much anymore.

Andrew stills, but relaxes in the next second. They'd both been subject to the same thoughts after all, Andrew just didn't realize how similar the sources were. Aaron and Katelyn are menaces, and they don't even realize it.

Andrew doesn't feel nervous, or anxious. The way Neil feels about him is obnoxiously stone-like and unmovable at this point, as much as Andrew still sometimes tries to act like it's not. Neil won't say anything to make him doubt that.

"I said I did," Neil continues, like it's obvious. Andrew's pulse hiccups a little anyways. Stupid. "But I didn't know if I ever wanted to say it to you. It's more like...well obviously I do feel that way right? In the whatever—traditional sense."

Traditional. Ha.

He's not sure even Katelyn's definition is truly traditional in its selflessness.

Neil clears his throat, palm clammy in Andrew's own. Second by second, Andrew feels lighter. Neil's rambling is a strange salve, one more thing they have in common. Too much thinking, when the answer doesn't have to be so complex. Neil tries to glance away, but Andrew grabs his chin, keeping them face to face. He wants to have all this forever, every expression, every blink.

Neil swallows, but his smile stays, making a liar out of him before the words even leave his mouth. "But one word doesn't seem like enough, and if we did say it wouldn't it just be for other people's satisfaction? I don't need it to know you feel the same way..."

Andrew shakes his head in disbelief. Neil. Only Neil would expect that from Andrew. Andrew's mind exhales.

The convoluted mess of words echoes Andrew's own thoughts throughout the day, but it's never sounded clearer. No, it's true, one word will never be enough, but Andrew thinks if he could come to associate the word, the phrase, with this feeling, unique to them...

It wouldn't be so damaged anymore.

It would still be theirs, and no one else's. He'd have his own definition, to overwrite the rest.

"But even then..." Neil adds, quietly, his voice dancing with the song still playing around them. The lyrics are in English again, and Andrew knows the ride will end soon. Cass is barely a blip in his mind now, compared to Neil's words, the ones which mirror Andrew's. "I still thought it might be nice, one day, to say it. That doesn't make sense, does it?"

Logically no. All the contradictions, the back and forth...feelings are a strange thing and that's one reason Andrew's always hated them. There's no rhyme or reason, and there's two sides to each one. All justification is ruled out by one thing and one thing alone: 'I still want to.'

And in that sense, Neil's words make perfect sense.

But he can't confess all that; instead he cups Neil's face in his hands, smoothing over the scars like he always does. The roughness is a constant, familiar. "I hate you," he says, with no heat. It makes both of them blink, and Andrew realizes it's been a while since he said it. That too, has changed. But in this case, he thinks it's more than fair. He's feeling more than he possibly knows what to do with. "Yes or no?"

The fact he asks makes Neil snort; it's nostalgic, because...they don't ask as much these days. But Neil's 'yes' echoes loud and clear as they pass under the final archway, and for the first time all day, their lips meet. Neil sighs into him, his hands coming up to rest over Andrew's, breathing in the unspoken promise.

Nothing was decided, nothing fleshed out. But it didn't have to be.

One day, maybe.

They're both more than okay with that. Besides, Andrew did always say proof meant more than words.

And he has mountains of it to last in the meantime.

With only a little annoyance, Andrew admits he fell into the trap without meaning to; they shared a kiss at Disneyland.

Andrew pulls away as the sunlight begins to pour over them, and he squints, already missing the ride. Quiet it was not, but not as bad as the sounds and size of the crowd. If he ever does have to come back, he knows it will be a place to stop.

It makes him think of Neil, first and foremost, and he's long since stopped denying himself that.

Neil tries to help Andrew out of the boat, but Andrew swats him away for being a shit. He doesn't need help. As revenge, Neil smirks at him once they're walking down the exit path, adjusting his ears just to be even more irritating. Not cute. "Wait, so this means you admit Katelyn and Aaron are in love. Can I tell them?"

Andrew rolls his eyes, and Neil laughs. He'll never live that one down, and if Neil wants to survive he'll keep it to himself.

Mockery aside, Neil links their hands together, and Andrew pushes his face away before accepting the touch. Neil hasn't stopped smiling.

"Something to say Neil?" He says with a glare, and though he knows it's a joke at best, it makes that obnoxious warmth in him surge.

Neil smiles wider, dragging Andrew down the path with no idea where he's going. Andrew lets him.

"No," Neil throws behind him, humor lacing his tone. Gradually, the corner of Andrew's mouth twitches. "Not at all."

"Andrew! Neil!" Jeremy's voice booms from across the pavilion, and they both freeze in their analysis of where the best hiding spot would be in the entire park (Andrew is making a case for Toontown, but puts a pin in it).

Their time alone is officially over.

"Shit," Neil mutters, hand still linked in Andrew's. Normally at the sight of people they know, he'd pull away for Andrew's comfort, but Andrew keeps his grip firm.

He wants this today. Neil beams, sighing at the rest of the group's advance. It must be twice as sad now, since Neil knows.

Jeremy and Jean follow with the girls in tow, and as they get closer Andrew can see Laila's resigned smile. She and Alvarez have been caught too, despite their best efforts, and Andrew can tell nothing has changed.

The 'magical moment' they'd tried to pull out of Jean and Jeremy didn't happen, just like Andrew knew it wouldn't. Regardless, they're as hopeless as ever.

Jean trails close after Jeremy, eyes scanning his strong back while Jeremy keeps looking to make sure he's following. They're still dancing around one another, oblivious, but that's their own problem to sort out.

Still...there's a shift in Jean's features that wasn't there before, and Andrew is all too happy to wither it away with a glare.

He's accepting, not forgiving.

Whatever realizations Jean came to today have no other impact on Andrew other than an urge to get as far away as possible from it.

But there's hours to go.

Hours more to go, with Neil's hand in his. The striker throws a knowing grin back at him before pulling him forward, probably dead set on meddling as much as possible.

With the promise of 'one day' still fizzing strong in his chest, Andrew follows.

There's no more memories of this place to overwrite, so he has no choice but to crack open the door a little for some new ones.

That, at least, he can handle.

#andreil #aftg #all for the game #andrew minyard #neil josten

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nine-mp3 · 4 years

Text

Your Neighbor Sungho | Ch. 3

Photo Credits:

- left hand corner, @116page - center, @newat_rie

Rie (sungho) x (female) reader, fluff, slice of life, semi-angsty (?)

appearances of other OnlyOneOf and Dreamcatcher members will occur

hey so I rolled a wheel on who to write a fanfic first and got rie plus picked out a prompt to write from

warnings: alcohol, getting drunk; this fic is PG-13, some light cursing occasionally

btw i’m pretty sarcastic, there’s sarcasm thrown here and there, hope you enjoy

Description: your neighbor, sungho, from the day you've moved in has kept you up countless nights with their significant other. dancing, muffled long conversations, and amongst other noises you wished you could wipe from memory. one day it suddenly stops. those days become months.

This is Chapter 3. Chapter 1 & 2 is linked below.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

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Sungho brings you to a diner somewhere in the city, not too far from your apartment. It was retro, old school themed. Booths and single counter top seats that stretched to the end of the building. You have heard of this place from a friend, but never came to ever try it out. The two of you picked out a seat at the booths next to the wide window view that looked on to the city streets. It’s a cozy environment, the breakfast hours being rather quiet on a Sunday morning. Hushed voices spoke, the smell of coffee yet again filling in the air, the sound of cooking in the background, the chef yelling orders, and the occasional ding of a bell to let the waiters know a dish was ready. You never thought this would be a place Sungho would like. In reality you weren’t sure what to think at all since little is known.

“You can buy as much as you’d like to eat,” Sungho said, passing you one of the menus from the side of the table.

“And that’s what I like to hear,” you said, taking up the menu gratefully.

Not too long after deciding what to order, a waitress appears to come take your orders. Not noticing at first, you realize that the waitress is one of your friends.

“Yooheon?” you exclaimed, staring at her in surprise.

She jumps, looking up from her notepad upon hearing her name.

"y/n! Oh my god!"

You’re standing up to hug her immediately. She reaches out to return it briefly, both your voices in excitement from seeing each other.

“What are you doing here? Of course, to finally come visit this diner I’ve been telling you about right?” Yooheon said, poking you with one end of her pen to your shoulder.

“Ow! Sorry, it’s been very busy. Please don’t kill me,” you said, rubbing the spot, and holding your hands up to defend yourself.

"Yeah, yeah. Save your excuses. I knew you would have come eventually."

She takes notice of Sungho, seeming just as alarmed. The other male simply gives a small wave in greeting.

“Sungho?! You’re here...and with y/n? Wait, you guys know each other?” Yooheon asked, looking back and forth from the both of you.

“I was about to ask the same thing. But please, give me my usual coffee.” Sungho mentions, folding his hands on the table top.

“Alright, Mr. Demand. As for the one who’s been ignoring my messages for the entire month. Are you...doing okay?” she asked as she scribbled down the note, concern showing on her face.

They...know each other, you thought.

“I’m fine. Just...take our orders, would you?” Sungho said bluntly, averting eye contact now.

Yooheon’s a bit taken back by his sudden attitude. You gave an apologetic look to her, mouthing one too.

“Uh, ahem. We’re neighbors, for context. Small world right? Anyways…” you said, scratching at the side of your neck nervously.

Once Yooheon has our orders and Sungho has another cup of caffeine, there’s a silence filled with unnecessary tension. You’re stirring your own iced coffee with the straw, watching the ice cubes in the glass spin.

“Sorry,” Sungho said suddenly to you.

He’s gripping at his cup handle somewhat, moving around the cup slightly in his hands. Was it a nervous habit?

“Hey, stop saying sorry to me. Who you should really be apologizing to is Yooheon,” you tell him, gesturing to the female in the distance.

There's a pause, as if Sungho was thinking again, before he nods in understanding. You hoped that your message was clear and he wasn't only nodding to get you to shut up.

“How do you know Yooheon?” he asks, eyes lifting up to meet yours now.

“Old friend from high school. You?”

“Friend of friends and... this diner. I come here a lot, if it doesn’t show.”

You nodded to his explanation, taking another sip of the ice coffee from your cup. There were a million questions to ask. It wasn't exactly proper to ask about the relationship just yet, so you were deciding on an ice breaker question. Well, Sungho beats you to it in the end.

"I know what you want to ask...about what happened with them...and I," he said, grasping the cup tighter in his hands.

"Huh? What are you talking-"

"It's fine. The walls are thin, I know. That you heard us," Sungho said, cutting you off. "And the sudden silence too."

There wasn't any point in pretending now that he brought it up.

"Okay, you got me. I am curious," you admitted, still stirring your glass nervously. "You really don't have to tell me if it's personal. The details and all. Really, it's none of my business."

"I just...want to tell you for some reason. Especially since we both were a nuisance most of the time. And yes, I was very well aware they did not like you for some odd reason. Gave them more or less reason to be louder than they already were..." Sungho explains, his eyes focused on the surface of the table. "Anyways, not the reason why we broke up. We had a small argument over something so miniscule, insignificant. They made a big deal out of it and ever since that, they haven't returned. It's been a month now. Which explains the silence and my behavior."

It was your turn to nod then, taking another sip of cold coffee. You listened carefully, keeping your eyes on Sungho to let him know that you were listening. Not that he was making eye contact with you, but you found it important in conversation. There's another silence that fills up the air. Just as you were about to speak, Yooheon arrives with the food that was ordered.

"Okay, meals coming up! One for the irritated man and one for my lovely friend, y/n!"

"Thanks Yooheon," you said, smiling up towards her.

"You can say thank you by leaving a good tip! Enjoy!" Yooheon said cheerfully, turning away on her heels to continue her job.

Once Yooheon was out of earshot, you recalled what you were able to say to Sungho. His explanation, of course, was as how you thought it went down. In honesty, someone who threw childish glares at you for only greeting their boyfriend was also on the line of making petty arguments, followed by them throwing it out of proportion. You felt bad for him.

“All I can say is...that I’m sorry this happened. Though the silence wasn’t bad for me…haha...” you responded, smiling playfully.

Sungho scoffed, but there was a laugh along with it. He began to cut a slice of the waffle he ordered. It was topped with whipped cream, strawberries, and syrup. You had the same, but pancakes.

“Yeah, yeah. I know you were probably so happy that you didn’t even check up with your lovely neighbor,” Sungho said, joking along with you as he took a bite of waffle.

“Uh-huh. Lovely. Anyways...I was worried. Kind of. It was at the back of my mind. I totally did have a nice time finishing all the work I was thrown in the past month. It was the busiest time of the year. I didn’t have time to think about anything. Luckily, we’re in the eye of the storm now. A calm point and all deadlines have been met,” you replied, grinning.

“I’m curious, or have been actually. What’s your occupation?” the other asked, changing the topic now.

“Just some office job that pays alright. I write a lot of reports, sort out files, and all that jazz. The most important thing is that I can live and feed myself currently. And you, lovely neighbor?”

Another smile dances across his lips, possibly from the nickname.

“Ah, well...I work as a barista at a coffee shop in the city. It’s a small shop, but customers fluctuate occasionally. Because people can’t live without their coffee. I’m one of said “people.” Guilty of having one too many cups a day.”

“Well, don’t worry. Same here. Whatever gets us through the day, right?” you said with a grin.

The both of you continued to eat, continuing to talk casually and forgot about the subject of his ex-significant other. Through this conversation and a meal, you felt like you learned a lot about Sungho. The both of you had similar interests, with a few sprinkles of differences like the pancake and waffle debate right in front (and it was discussed, each person telling their reason why they thought pancake or waffle was better). Yet, he respected your opinion in the end without any further arguments. This was only the surface of everything. There was more, always more. But you were glad that maybe, just maybe, after this you could finally call your neighbor a friend.

After your meals were finished and the last drops of coffee were gone from both of your cups, the bill was called for. Keeping his promise, Sungho paid for your meal. You can’t help but feel a little guilty watching Yooheon ring up his card. Then you were reminded that he needed to also apologize to the female.

“I didn’t forget, don’t worry. Also, don’t feel bad. Did you forget that you literally took care of my drunk self yesterday?” Sungho said suddenly, as if he read your mind.

“Right...okay, I don't feel guilty. Nope," you replied, sitting up straight and proud. "Hey, wait...was it that obvious of what I was thinking? How did you know?"

“Your face says it all,” he said as Yooheon comes back, handing him back his card.

“y/n’s emotions are always on her sleeve, so easy to read,” Yooheon added in, despite not knowing what the conversation was about.

“Excuse me?”

Yooheon and Sungho laughed at your response. You couldn’t help but to feel flustered suddenly, yet shocked. That wasn’t even a joke, yet they both thought something was funny. Was it your face? Huffing and rolling your eyes, you gathered your things and stood up from your seat. But you felt relieved to see them laughing together.

“Alright, alright, enough laughing at me. Sungho has something to say to you. I’ll be standing by the door and just come over when you’re done,” you said, pointing, before turning to walk away to give the two their personal space for a minute.

Sungho watched you head down the aisle, going to observe the rest of the store, as now he was going to execute an apology. Not for you, of course. For Yooheon and himself. He agreed with your words, that it was right to apologize. Afterall, he was being unnecessarily rude. That response was a result out of fear. The fear of facing people again after so long. Yooheon was one of his good friends that always checked up on Sungho. Seems like he did take it for granted. Even though he didn’t say anything yet, she knew what it was about. Glancing around, the woman checks to see if there were any new customers. There wasn’t. Her manager wasn’t in view either, so she took a moment to take the seat where you had been sitting.

“So, y/n said you had something to tell me?” Yooheon said, with an expectant look on her face.

“Uh, right. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For how I acted before and...for the entire month prior to today. Thanks for checking up on me throughout that time period. I didn’t say anything, but I’m grateful to have a friend like you,” Sungho said genuinely.

“Aw, Sungho...it’s okay. I accept your apology, of course. I understand. It was hard, breakups are never easy. Especially when you’ve been with the other person for a long time. Together, happy...ahem. Anyways, like I’ve been telling you. Don’t keep it to yourself. Why else do you think Jisung and I wouldn’t stop knocking on your door every single day to make sure you were okay?” Yooheon said gently, adding one of her comforting smiles. “You don’t need to thank me. What are friends for? But now...just take it easy and...try to climb back into the way of your life. Without thinking about them. Screw them. You definitely deserve better. As of right now, don’t forget to take care of yourself too. You’re as important as anyone else.”

Yooheon reached out to hold Sungho’s hands, patting them. He would’ve cried there and then at her words, tears of joy mixed in with his sadness. Except it was a public area, so he held them in and moved to hold her hands back just as tightly. He nods simply, showing that he was grateful for her words. She pulled her hands away then, her eyes still wary of her manager coming out. It wasn’t the first time she’s sat down here to have a conversation with him on a slow day. Yooheon noted how you were idly standing in the distance, staring at the wall menus, and deciding what to try the next time if you were to come here.

“So, how’d you meet y/n? Was today like a random hookup or date? Looking at other fish in the sea now, eh?” Yooheon asked, leaning in closer towards him with interest.

“None of the above. y/n’s my neighbor. We barely know each other, actually. Today’s the first day we finally had a proper conversation,” Sungho said, making a face towards his friend now. “You remember right? How they didn’t let me talk to anyone. Not you, not Jisung, for even a minute. Sounds bad now that I’m only realizing now. The only time I was alone was if they were at work and I wasn’t…”

‘Wow. y/n’s your neighbor?! Talk about a small world! Anyways, I was only kidding. Focus on yourself first before anything, like I said before. And I remember that. Possessive they were. We tried to tell you, but no one sees anything when they’re too lost in love. It was bad, yes. Toxic relationship is what Jisung and I agreed on. You didn’t believe it though,” Yooheon said, sighing at her last sentence. “Anyways, we can talk more another time or…. later today? You’re free right? We can catch up with Jisung. What do you say? Just don’t want to leave y/n hanging any longer over there.”

Yooheon was right yet again. Sungho had been too caught up in love to realize the relationship he was in was toxic. A common problem in today’s society. People always attached themselves to people that weren’t good for them and weren't aware till the damage was done. He wasn’t the only one who fell into the statistics though. Outsiders could only do so much. It was always up to the person themselves who had fallen into such a relationship to pull themselves out, or not. As for his case, the one who was toxic left. So he was lucky that they weren’t in tbe picture anymore.

“Yeah...I really didn’t believe it, did I? And right, let’s talk another time..."

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After you and Sungho said your goodbyes to Yooheon, (she also did not forget to nag you to come for the coming weekend get together as she was also amongst that circle of friends), and let her resume her work, the two of you headed back to the apartment building. Standing in front each other's respective doors, facing each other, there was an awkward moment of silence. Each person wondering what to say now that the out was done and favor was fulfilled.

"Uh, so...thanks for breakfast...again. I had a fun time," you said, giving him another bright smile.

"I did as well. I'm glad that I finally can get to know my neighbor for real. Not exactly the way I thought, as in you having to deal with me drunk," Sungho said, chuckling.

"Consider it forgotten, Sungho. Don't worry about yesterday anymore," you responded.

"Sounds like a plan. Oh, let's exchange numbers? We're friends now, right?"

You pretended to think as you fished out your cellphone from your bag. Honestly, hearing Sungho asking that made you...happy. As you had hoped back in the diner, it was spoken thought into reality. Your neighbor, a friend.

"Hmm, I don't know about that..." you joked, as you opened the phone screen.

The other simply returned another smile, going along with your joke again. You had eventually lost count of how many times he smiled today. It was definitely a lot more than in the past month. From this, you made the conclusion Sungho looked the best when he was happy. He took your phone and dialed his phone number in for you, evening naming the contact for himself.

"Lovely Neighbor Sungho, seriously? Funny. You're really funny," you said as you hit the call button so he could get your number as well. "What are you going to put my name as?"

"Lovely Neighbor y/n of course. Consistency and now matching nicknames," Sungho replied.

He picked up the call, even though he was right across from you. With another hand, Sungho searched for his apartment keys. Just to humor him, you putting your phone to your ear as well.

"Anyways, I hope you have a great day y/n. I have an apartment to clean. Shall we hang out another time again?" Sungho said, his voice echoing through the speaker of your phone as well.

"Yes, of course. I would love to."

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Author's Note: Hello! Sorry for this long gap between chapter 2 and 3. I was a bit busy for some time. Now I'm free again, so hopefully there won't be another long gap in between chapters again. The ending should be at chapter 5, but that is yet to be determined. I tend to write without an ending in mind, a flaw of mine...but don't worry! There is one for this story. Anyways, thank you for reading as always! I hope you enjoyed. Please look forward to chapter 4 ❤️!

#onlyoneof #rie #leesungho #sungho #love #kyubin #yoojung #junji #mill #nine #dreamcatcher #yooheon #kpop #fanfiction #kpop scenarios

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Hot as Hell and No A/C, Chapter 3 (Branjie)- Blackhighheels

(Read at AO3)

Three

Jose knows it might not be the best idea to come to this run down bar, but he is bored and he needs a drink. Since he left Los Angeles he hasn’t been to any clubs or bars and this shack is the only thing nearby in the middle of motherfucking nowhere.

The offer is somewhat limited and so he orders a whiskey, since that seems to be the only thing they have beside shots and beer. He remains sitting at the bar and the woman behind it, Lindsey, is a hoot and he likes talking to her. From what she’s telling him she used to be the queen bee around here, about forty years ago, until she got pregnant too young and out of wedlock and found herself working in this bar to keep a roof over her head and care for her son.

He’s so engrossed in Lindsey’s stories that it takes him a while to realise that a couple of guys by the pool table are talking about him. The words ”Faggot”, ”Gay” and ”cocksucker” are a dead give away and he doesn’t think they’d say that about anyone but him around here.

”Hey, assholes! Got a problem with my gay ass?” He yells at them. It might be the alcohol or simply his frustration about the town and what it does to people, but he isn’t willing to just take it and keep him mouth shut. And he’s not afraid of them. He’s had his share of fights in his life, both because of the area he grew up in and also because of him being so obviously gay.

The four men, or boys, come closer and he can already smell the cloud of beer that surrounds them.

”Did you faggot just call us assholes?”

”If you’re the assholes who just talked smack about me, then yeah, I did.” He turns around in his bar stool and is glad that it gives him a bit of a height advantage.

”You better watch your mouth you filthy cocksucker.”

”Mmmh…. Sucking dick’s only filthy when it’s done right. You ever tried it?”

Jose expects a punch or kick, maybe something thrown his way. He doesn’t expect one of the guys spitting right into his face.

”Guys like you are dirt and god will take care of you,” the smallest one says. He seems to be believer amongst them.

Jose doesn’t want to talk anymore though. They just spit at him. He’s done talking. Before the god-fearing idiot has even finished speaking, Jose smacks the fucker who spit at him right across the face with the back of his hand.

”Imma end you, you motherfuckers. No one spits at me, bitch! You got hands, show me! Show me!” he yells, as blood drips from the drunken teenager’s nose.

”Hey!” Lindsey grabs him from behind. ”No fights in my bar. House rule. If you really wanna beat each other up, take it outside. But I’d advise all of y’all to just leave it. You four shouldn’t even be in here or drinking, and you,” she turns to Jose ”better not make more enemies than necessary while ya here. This is a small town.” Jose looks at the four teenagers in front of him, then throws a couple of dollars on the bar and leaves. So much for grabbing a drink and enjoying a night out.

***

Brock walks out of the stable when he hears a voice he would recognise everywhere. He also knows the car parked in their driveway.

”Fuck,” he curses quietly and hurries towards the house, wiping his hands on an old rag as panic settles in his stomach. This can’t be happening! Also, he is painfully aware that his hair is a mess, he is sweaty, dirty and his clothes are stained. Usually when he sees Jose, he at least gets a chance to shower beforehand.

For the last two weeks Jose has driven Rachel and him home after each dance practise. Sometimes they stop for ice cream or food on the way back. Brock is aware that Jose only makes little bets with Rachel, bets he always loses, and then has to invite them to whatever it is he promised her. Brock wouldn’t be able to buy ice-cream and take-out three or four times a week for three people.

The time he spends with Jose and Rachel has become the highlight of his life. He doesn’t mind walking half an hour to a dance studio and then watch for nearly two hours in the overheated studio as his niece prances around the room with other girls. The short drive back with Jose makes it all worth while.

He is the funniest and kindest guy Brock’s ever met. It feels a bit like having a friend, a real friend for once, and Jose is probably the only person he can really be himself with. He can giggle when he feels like it, talk with his hands and even admit that he likes colourful sprinkles on top of his ice-cream.

However, none of it explains why Jose is here now, parked in front of his parents’ house. It’s already too late, Brock realises when he makes his way around the front-porch and find both his mother and father standing on the porch talking to Jose.

”Aw, that’s too bad you can’t tell me. Thought I’d save them the long walk, now that I’m in town anyway.”

”Sorry, we can’t help ya,” his father says in a brusk tone.

”Ok, never mind. Thanks anyway,” Jose turns around to leave. That’s when he spots Brock. Immediately Jose’s face lights up. He is looking really good today, wearing a white wife-beater, a short black and red flannel shirt and tiny black shorts. ”Hey Brock!”

”Hello,” Brock replies as neutral as possible and it takes a lot not to return the smile. He is very aware that his parents are watching their interaction with stony expressions. ”What are you doing here?”

”Thought I’d ask you and Rachel if I should drive you to dance practice today. I have to take care of some shit here in town and could take you back with me. Don’t think ya got your car fixed yet, huh?” Jose still smiles and casually leans against his Porsche. He looks like someone straight out of an ad or a tv show. Already Brock’s stomach tightens because he knows what he has to do.

”I’m sorry Sir, but that’s not necessary. Rachel and I can manage on our own. Thank you for the kind offer though,” he declines and watches the smile melt off Jose’s face when the icy tone of Brock’s voice registers with him.

”Brock! You know him?” His mother asks. She sounds surprised. What did she think? That some stranger would just show up and offer driving him and Rachel?

”This is Jose. He is Rachel’s dance teacher for the next couple of weeks. Jason hurt himself.” He informs both of his parents.

”You done with the hay?” His father stops any further explanation.

”No, not yet. I just heard voices and thought I’d check on ya.”

”I don’t need ya checking, that’s what we got guns for. I need ya working!” His father barks.

”I better get going,” Jose says quietly and his eyes appear to be so large and defeated that Brock nearly drowns in them.

”Thank you again for the offer but we can manage,” he says and softens his tone. He doesn’t want to decline. If he had a choice, he’d gladly drive around in Jose’s car all day and talk to him about everything and nothing. But it’s not an option he has.

He can’t move, he can’t do anything when he watches Jose get into the car and then drive off, leaving dust and a hint of cologne in the air.

”Don’t ya have work to do?!” his father asks him from the porch and snaps him out of his daze. Quickly he hurries back to the stable to work, to hide and to hopefully forget about the scene he was just a part of. He swallows a couple of times to keep the tears inside that his stupid overly emotional heart wants him to cry for how he just treated Jose.

***

”Care to tell us what that guy wanted today?” Brock’s father asks as soon as he sits down at the table for lunch.

”I told you, he’s Rachel’s dance teacher and I know nothing more than you do. He wanted to drive us to her dance class.”

”How’d he know your car’s broken?”

”We were late a couple of times,” Brock sighs and takes a piece of bread, rips a piece off and stuffs it in his mouth so the words he really wants to speak won’t burst out.

”I don’t like ya hanging with that folk! It’s bad enough that Ada allows Rachel to take dance lessons at that place. You being around these faggots a couple o’times a week… ya know what the people in town gonna say if they see this gay guy here? Ya know what the minister’s gonna say? You stay away from them, ya hear me!” His father is basically yelling at this point.

”I take Rachel to dance class because no one else has the time to do so, not because I wanna hang out there. I don’t know this guy any better than I know Jason, so what’s the big deal? He is a good teacher and Rachel likes him.”

”Stop eating before we said grace!” His father slaps the bread out of his hand, which drops to the floor. ”And Rachel shouldn’t be anywhere around these faggots, this music or these whore dance moves! It’s not right! Their lifestyle and everything they do’s offensive to the lord and every god fearing Christian. They don’t belong here and I want none of my family have anything to do with them. If you wanna hang out with these sinners you get your ass out of my house and better never come back.” Now his father is really yelling.

”How else is Rachel supposed to get there? By the time the lessons are done it’s dark out. It’s too far for her to go on her own. It’s not safe!”

”If I had a say in it she wouldn’t go there at all! But ya sister is letting her kids do whatever! If she lets them run with the wrong crowd, they should know what’s waiting for them!”

It’s nothing Brock hasn’t heard before. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen or felt before. He knows if he speaks another word now the fight will most likely become physical. Brock has never raised a hand against his father, but for a while now he’s taken to defending himself and his mother when the beer gets to his father’s head again.

He hates how he judges Jose without even knowing him. He even hates him for judging Jason. For a split second he wants to scream at him that he’s a sinner himself, gay like them and that even all the beatings he got as a child and teenager didn’t take it out of him.

Then he glances at his mother and her wide, scared eyes let him bite his tongue and lower his head. ”I’ll tell Ada I can’t take Rachel anymore.” He leans over and picks the bread up off the floor and uses the second to wipe his face clean of any emotion. Fury is still burning in his gut, nearly making him sick as he swallows it down and nearly chokes on it.

This is not the time though, not the time to risk it all for nothing. Jose will be gone again in about three weeks and their tentative friendship will become only a memory. What does it matter if he stops it all now, goes back to life how it was before Jose got here and starts living his harsh reality again three weeks earlier? His father probably just saved him a lot of pain and heartache. Brock knows that Jose and his friendships means too much already and he’s gotten too used to it.

”Good. Brock, can you say grace?” His mother ends the discussion with a grateful look and Brock knows he’s made the right decision.

***

”Hey, uncle Brock,” Rachel greets him after the mass on Sunday, when they are all still standing in front of the church.

”Hey honey,” he smiles.

”Can you take a look at my bike? The breaks’ not working and mommy can’t fix it,” she asks him and of course Brock follows her to her bike on the other side of the lawn. He doesn’t care that his good pants get dirty as he kneels down beside the small bike. It’s more important that his niece has a functioning bike, now that she has to ride it to dance practise and back. Brock doesn’t like it. He worries about her constantly, but there is nothing he can do.

”It’s just a bit loose, honey, that’s easily fixed,” he assures her.

”Thank you!”

”Do your lights work? I don’t like you riding your bike in the dark after practise, so we have to make sure at least these are working.”

”Can I tell you a secret?” Rachel whispers after checking that they are alone.

”Always.”

”I’m not driving back on my bike. Vanjie takes me until we reach our house and then waits with the lights turned off until he knows I’m safely inside.”

Brock feels a warmth spreading through him that nearly knocks him on his ass. He grasps the bike to keep his balance. He should have known Jose would make sure Rachel is safe. It’s so much like him that Brock feels like weeping. It’s only been three days, but he already misses their talks so much and hearing about how he cares for his niece only makes him miss Jose more. If only he could just talk to him sometimes.

”That’s very nice of Vanjie. He’s a very good guy,” Brock tells her just as quietly as she told him her secret.

”Then why do you hate him?”

”What? What makes you think I hate him?” he asks surprised and slowly gets up.

”Vanjie asked why you not taking me anymore and if you’re sick or something. I told him ‘bout the stuff grandpa said and that you can’t take me ‘cause they’re offensive and sinners and you don’t wanna be around him and can’t be his friend.”

Brock nearly crumbles to the ground for real this time. ”Rachel, how do you know about that talk?”

”I wanted to see you but then I heard the yelling through the open window and ran off. I don’t like grandpa when he’s mean like that.”

He takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his curls. There are so many things wrong with what Rachel just said and what she overheard. But there are also things he can maybe fix.

”Honey, I don’t agree with grandpa. Vanjie is a very good and nice guy and don’t let anyone tell you anything else about him or Jason, ok? ” Rachel nods her head. ”The only reason why I’m not taking you anymore is because grandpa gets very upset about these things and he’s scared that people will say mean things about me in town.”

”Like the things they say about Jason?”

”Yeah, like that. And he doesn’t want that for me or any of us. And I don’t want to make grandpa angry.”

”Uncle Brock? I like Jason and Vanjie.”

”That’s good. Make sure you tell them. They sure need to hear it.” He strokes his hand over Rachel’s strawberry blond hair.

”Will you tell them, too? Vanjie was really sad that you not there anymore. He said, he thought you was his friend.”

”I’ll tell him,” Brock agrees.

”Promise?” Rachel goes in for the kill.

”Promise,” he says and knows he now really doesn’t have choice but to talk to Jose. Rachel will know.

***

He waits until his parents are in bed and then sneaks outside to the orchard behind their house. It’s far enough so he won’t be overheard, dark enough so he won’t be seen and close enough to the cellphone tower so he’ll have reception.

Jose has given him his phone number the first week, but he has never used it and he hasn’t given him his own. It simply hadn’t been necessary. Jose said to use the number if he needed a ride or if Rachel couldn’t come to practise. Brock had no such excuse for giving him his number.

He takes a couple of deep breaths and then finally brings his thumb down on the dial button.

”Hello?” Jose picks up after only a couple of rings.

”Hey, uhm, it’s me, Brock,” he stutters and feels stupid already.

”What’d ya want, Sir?” Jose’s tone is snide and Brock knows he deserves it.

”Rachel told me she talked to you and I think I need to clear some things up.”

”You made it more than crystal yourself what you really think about me. Ya don’t need to drag Rachel into this.”

”I’m not! I just think, like… it’s not what it seems.”

”So you not avoiding me like the plague ‘cause your father’s a bigot asshole who thinks just talking to me will sully your reputation?” Jose is yelling at him through the phone, then he suddenly stops. When he continues his voice carries the hurt he must be feeling. ”God, I hate this motherfucking town and all of y’all religious lying assholes.”

”I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. You’re so nice to Rachel and to me and helped us out so much and just…I’m sorry.”

”If you’re really sorry you’d have come here and told me this shit in person like a man. But I guess you just as much of a weaselly liar as the rest of these fucked up wanna be cowboys in this town. Grow up, start thinking for ya’self and learn how to make an apology real.” Jose hangs up on him and Brock stares disbelievingly at his phone.

At first he is shocked and sad. He’s just lost the only friend who really knew him. Not only that, but he also thinks badly about him now. How can he think that Brock agrees with his father? He must know that he doesn’t have a choice, right? He thought Jose knows… That’s when Brock gets angry himself. He is so sick of all of these people and their opinions about him and his life and what he is supposed to do and to think. He’s used to it from his family and the town and the parish. But Jose? How dare he!

Before he really knows what he is doing, he has run inside, grabbed his mother’s car keys and is on the way to the dance studio. Jose wants him to talk to him in person? He can have it!

***

Brock bangs on the front-door and his hand is still in the air when the door is ripped open.

”What the fuck are you doing here, bitch?”

”You told me to talk to you in person, didn’t you?” Brock raises his voice as well.

”Aaaah and of course the good little christian boy always does what he is told,” Jose sneers. For a second Brock wants to punch him. Instead he pushes past him into the apartment. Jason or whoever else is around, really doesn’t need to hear this conversation.

Jose lets the door falls shut and crosses his arms over his chest. ” Say what you gotta say, then leave.”

”Why are you acting like this?”

”Acting? Acting bitch! Imma show you who’s acting! You lucky I’m not kicking your ass right now for pretending to be my friend, acting all nice and cute while we eating ice cream and then you suddenly stabbing me in the back, pretending you don’t fucking know me and stop talking to me without any explanation. I don’t need any more backstabbing hoes in my life.”

”Do you have any idea what my father would have done, if he knew we were hanging out after dance practice? If he knew we were so much as talking on the regular? I don’t know who he would have shot first, you or me!”

“I’m not scared of your asshole father. I don’t give a shit about him! But I give a shit about loyalty. And you not who I thought you were! You not fucking loyal! If you’d been at that fucking bar last week, you’d have spat on me too and tried to beat me up, just ‘cause you scared of your father. You pathetic!” Jose is full on screaming at him now.

”So you got a taste of what it’s like to live here for one night? Do you know what it’s like to live here every fucking day of your fucking life? When they beat me up as a kid ‘cause I was too girly, my dad beat me up again when I got home. They threw rocks at me, spat at me and slapped me all the way through school. I couldn’t tell my parents, the teachers didn’t care and I didn’t even understand what the fuck was wrong with me!” Brock starts pacing in the small living room.

”You’re the only person who knows. The only person who knows that I’m…” he can barely get the word over his lips. ”…that I’m gay.” There, he’s said it out loud for the first time in his life. Well, yelled it at Jose. ”And you know what happens when that gets out? When only a rumour will spread? What you experienced at the bar will be my life every fucking day and worse. My parents will kick me out, I’ll lose all of my family and I’ll have nothing, NOTHING left. Maybe that’s what I deserve for being that way, maybe that’s really god’s way of punishment. But I’d rather live a lie every day for the rest of my fucking life than to lose the little I have left.” Tears are dripping from Brock’s chin by the end of his confession. He’s laid it all out now to Jose, a guy he barely knows and just because he’s the first one who has shown him any kindness. Fuck! What if… what if he tells people? What if he is so angry he will take revenge and..

”Hey, it’s ok. I understand,” Jose is suddenly standing in front of him and places his hands on his upper arms. That’s when Brock realises he’s shaking. ”It’s ok.” Jose tries to wipe his tears away with the back of his hands, but they fall faster than he can wipe them off. ”Come here, boo, sit down. You still shaking like a fucking tree,” he says. Brock has to laugh about the mishap.

”Leaf,” he corrects through his tears and hiccups.

”Smart ass. Imma get you some water,” Jose smiles and disappears for a moment, before he comes back with a bottle of water and some tissues. Brock takes the water and drinks it down, before he accepts the tissues and dries his face and his eyes.

He feels stupid now for getting so upset, for crying, for yelling all of his secrets at Jose and for coming here in the first place. ”I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…” he starts but Jose stops him.

”You know what, boo? You look like you need a hug. That ok?” Jose asks him with a tender and worried look.

”I’m not good at hugging,” Brock shrugs self-deprecatingly and looks down.

”You lucky, ‘cause I’m the best at giving hugs.” A moment later Jose slowly pulls him in his arms and hugs him tightly. It’s a strange feeling for Brock and he can’t remember when he has ever hugged anyone other than his sister or his nieces and nephews. Then however, he slowly relaxes against Jose’s warm body and lets the last couple of tears fall.

So this is what it feels like, he thinks. It’s nice and soothing, comfortable and exciting. He feels safe and cared for. Jose starts running his hands up and down his back and if Brock could, he would start purring like his favorite kitten. He closes his eyes and enjoys the feeling.

After a while, he turns his head, his nose bumps against Jose’s neck and the scent of cologne gets stronger. Jose’s hand slides up his neck and into his hair. When Brock looks up and their eyes meet, it only takes a split second and then Jose brushes his lips against his. It’s not even a peck, more like a butterfly like touch, but Brock wants more. He stops thinking as he leans up and captures Jose’s mouth in a soft kiss.

When he pulls back his brain suddenly starts working again and he jumps back. ”Oh my god!” he covers his tingling lips with his hand and stares at Jose.

”Please tell me that’s not been your first kiss,” Jose begs, equally wide eyed.

”No! But.. Like… we can’t do this. I can’t..not… here… I’m…”

”It’s ok, Brock. It don’t gotta mean nothing. You can go back to ignoring me now. I get it, I promise. No hard feelings.” The hurt in Jose’s voice tells Brock something else though.

”I don’t wanna ignore you.” He tells him honestly. ”But I can’t… do this here. It’s too risky.”

”Alright. Friends then?” Jose smiles.

”Friends,” Brock nods. ”Just… no one can know.”

”‘Cause I’m too fucking gay for this town, I know, Miss Thing. Then you better get your secretly gay ass outta here, before anyone sees you.” The words are harsh, but the smirk on Jose’s face and the hug he gives him, let Brock know he really means it.

”We could get ice cream again some time?” Brock suggests when he is already halfway out the door.

”Text me tomorrow if you still feeling that typa way and we can do that.” They smile at each other for a moment and if Brock wasn’t such a coward he’d kiss him again. Instead he quickly leaves and vows to himself that he will text Jose in the morning and make sure he won’t lose the only friend who now really knows all of his dirty secrets and still likes him. Despite it all. Maybe because of it.

TBC

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #m/m au #slow burn #romance #angst #hot as hell and no ac #blackhighheels #tw religion #tw internalized homophobia

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manggojooz · 5 years

Text

Pick A Side (Part 8)

pairing: Taehyung x reader

word count: approx. 1,500

genre: university!au; angst; romance; slice of life stuff; a bit a bit of fluff

warnings: references to school bullying; references to voyeuristic behaviour

taglist: @destiel1597 @mila271 @hopetookmysoul @ximaginx @honeyursosweet @coffeecupyoongs @bangtanbaesstuff @annoyingpessimist @betysotelo18 @okaysoplshelpme @igot7bangs @tahaing

comments: i am sorry this took so long, i just keep feeling like it’s not enough xD this was originally the second half of part 7, so it’s best read together with part 7 ^^ And also, this is what I have been trying to express through this series, I hope you will enjoy reading it!

In any high school you would be able to find two kinds of people, the one that everyone had a crush on, and the one who could only have a crush on someone. You belonged in the latter category, attributable to the biggest crush you had on a certain senior. He played baseball, he had good grades and needless to say, he was really popular. You obviously never even had a chance to speak a single word to him, all the while only looking at him from afar.

A deafening crash travelled down the empty corridor one evening, scaring the hell out of you, who had forgotten your textbook and had gone back to the empty classroom to retrieve it. You followed the noise to a secluded storage room that hardly anyone knew existed. Through the tiny gap in the windows, you peered in, seeing a boy thrown against the metal cupboards. His hair was in a mess, his eyes glassy, and his body slumped onto the ground. Another two students towered over him.

You squinted to get a better view and you were half-certain the guy on the floor was your classmate, Jinho. You were not close to him, hardly anyone was in fact. But you couldn’t just walk away. What were you supposed to do now? Do you call the teachers? Should you barge in?

The tiny slit of light from the corridor was the only brightness filtering into the storeroom. Just as you were about to dash off to the teachers’ office, one of the boys standing over him turned his face slightly towards you. You will never get his side profile wrong, not even in the bad lighting, because that’s the only profile you were able to swoon at every lunch time.

It can’t be. This isn’t possible. Something's not right. You reminded yourself time and again not to jump to conclusions. It can’t be that he was bullying Jinho. There must be something else to this. Before anyone saw you, you turned away and ran out of the building, without telling anyone about what you saw, without a single word.

The next day Jinho came to school as per usual. You stared at him sporadically throughout the lessons. His expressionless face was no different than other days, but you felt uneasy. He looks fine though. Is he fine? Why would anyone bully him? It's not what it seems, right?

Lunch time came and you stared at that familiar side profile. He had the same cozy smile, laughing and chatting with his friends, but all you felt was uneasiness. It was definitely him in that room. Is he a bully? Why would he be? There must be some explanation behind what you saw, right?

That night a classmate sent a video to your group chat, asking if the boy in it was Jinho. In the shaky video, the guy’s face was half covered, his upper body bare, and he crouched in a corner of what looked like a less-patronised school bathroom. Whoever was or were behind the phone taking the video had a field day hurling and splashing what you could only hope was water at the ragged boy. No one else could be seen in the video, and the sounds were muted too.

Your fingers hovered over the screen of your phone, shaking. Don’t jump to conclusions, you reminded yourself.

But the conclusion jumped at you – the next day Jinho didn’t come to class. In fact, he never came again.

---

Taehyung was now sitting next to you on the floor, listening intently to you. The way you peeled at the skin on your fingertips was evident of how much it still stresses you out.

“You must have been scared”, he wanted to make you feel a little less bad about your decisions.

“That’s the worst part. I was scared of the bullies... but I was more scared of admitting that he could be the bully. Because I liked him... I told myself not to jump the gun, I gave myself excuses that I didn’t know everything. I lied to myself thinking that I was being fair, that I was being neutral...”, your voice started breaking.

“... it was obvious... at that time... it was already so obvious... when I did nothing, I chose his side. I am no better than him... it’s not wrong if anyone calls me a bully too”, you were choking by now, tears flushing down your face, as you were sucked into a whirlwind of guilt and remorse.

And you were reminded of the words that you lived by ever since:

“We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” ~Elie Wiesel

“You are not a bully, Y/N...”, you felt his hands hold onto both of your tear-stained cheeks, his palms warm from the hot hairdryer air.

“... you were the only person who helped me during orientation, remember?”, he continuously tries to wipe away your tears with his hands, but they continuously fall from your eyes uncontrollably.

“Do you know tha... that... after the video spread around, Jinho couldn’t come to school? They say he locked himself up for days and... and his mother broke down the door eventually... and found him unconscious. When he woke up he couldn’t... he wouldn’t say a single word. She has all the right in the world to hate us. She wouldn’t let anyone from school visit him. But I keep trying... I just... I feel so bad and sorry to him... if only I did something, if only I...”, you rambled on, sobbing and choking through your tears.

He pulls your head down onto his shoulders, “Everyone makes mistakes... it’s ok... it’s ok”, he paused a while before continuing, “We all hope for forgiveness when we make mistakes... so that we can breathe easier. But whether to forgive is up to the person who has been hurt... it is only fair that way...”, if the air could speak, it would probably sound like his voice now.

When the ice beneath cracks, it cannot be fixed. And if you live with cracks inside of you, those are the marks of your mistakes. Everyone has cracks inside of them, small ones, long ones, ugly ones, bleeding ones. We create them on others and we get them from others. Some people let the cracks consume themselves, some people let the cracks consume other people, some people learn to live with them, some people learn from them.

“So, maybe it's not always about being forgiven... sometimes maybe it is about letting go. Not that we should forget about it... but sometimes we have to live with our mistakes and the consequences... live with them in our hearts, at least I think that is what a good person would do...”, Taehyung sighs, as you drenched him in your tears this time.

These are the things he thinks about these days. Will he ever receive forgiveness? From you. Or should he learn to let go? Of you.

“I know it’s hard...”, he started stroking your hair lightly, trying all the ways he could think of to help you through this.

“It’s nothing compared to what he had to go through”, you wept, referring to Jinho.

“Mmm...”, the wisest response he could think of was to agree. He too knows, that whatever he was going through, was nothing compared to what he made you suffer.

Not every mistake will be forgiven, not every wrong can be absolved. Out of respect for the hurt which has been caused, it should never be forgotten. Now and then, it will find ways to submerge you, seeping through the cracks within you, but you don't have to let it drown you.

He was waiting for you to use up all your tears but Taehyung must have been exhausted by his day, because as time went by, you felt the strokes on your hair weaken and eventually his hand falls onto your shoulder. His breathing was deep and lethargic, his heartbeat slow, and you realise he must have dozed off with his head now resting on top of yours.

The unhurried beats in his chest were soothing, his sweater was softer than your blanket and his arms circling you was like a fence. This moment felt safe, the air felt serene, the night felt tranquil.

You guessed that this is why people are always known to be selfish. You couldn’t take someone’s side when they required it, yet you so readily accepted this gesture of companionship in your own time of need. You buried your face into his chest like an ostrich hiding from something, although even an ostrich wouldn’t be able to hide away from its conscience in this way. You were equally exhausted, and eventually the lullaby of his heartbeats lures you into sleep.

You knew you were still not forgiven, even with Taehyung by your side. But you were no longer bearing it alone, because Taehyung was by your side.

---

In the morning, as you picked up that yellow post-it which had slipped out from your pile of mail, you finally now recognise the handwriting as Taehyung’s:

“Please don't say anything Reach my hand out to cover the mouth But in the end, spring will come someday The ice will melt and flow away”

Your smile at his words lasted a few moments, but then it slowly devolves into a bothered frown. Why did Haejoong not correct you when you asked if he wrote the notes?

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icosmohunters · 4 years

Text

chapter two : captain

chapter two of cosmo hunters!

word count : 5.5k words

synopsis : hope had her ship invaded by a group of stranded space pirates, which hasn’t happened before and she hadn’t scheduled social interactions until a couple of days. needless to say, they have a lot of explaining to do. but that doesn’t stop them from striking a bargain with our bounty hunter. one which she is tempted to accept.

“ alright, talk. ”

in the span of a couple of hours, hope didn’t think it would be capable for her world to be flipped around. here she stood in the dining room of her ship, nebula, watching a group of pirates gather around the table. pirates who were not welcome. pirates who somehow managed to hold out in the ice-cold moon europa orbiting jupiter.

quite frankly, she didn’t know much about piracy to make assumptions on their survival tactics. they had no ship, but then again, a.j hadn’t scanned the moon’s surface for anything so a ship could very much be sat miles away from her, perhaps in ruins due to the drastic weather conditions they were in.

like most moons, europa didn’t have an atmosphere like the typical planet earth, and the gas it produced, oxygen, was primarily made from the water vapor released from the craters of ice this cracked moon was known for. the cool temperatures could be enough to reduce a human to mere particles of ice. temperatures could reach below minus a hundred degrees celcius, so it had the bounty hunter wondering, how were these pirates surviving?

looking at them now, they looked particularly healthy. the guy who’d tried to shoot her with her own taser gun, packed with muscles and decorated with a chiseled jaw and brown hair, seemed to be surviving. she’d asked for names, and the declared captain of the crew stated he was enzo.

the two girls who’d accompanied the crew were dawn and vivienne, two very attractive ladies with contrasting energy but hope, looking at them, sensed a feeling of warmth from the two of them. it wasn’t because maybe they were both females, but maybe the fact that she felt like they would require less work. unlike others.

and the two young men left were called quinn and dom, both particularly quiet but judging from the way they sat differently and even glanced around, she got a sense that she would be better off not throwing too much trust on the table when it came to them.

in fact, she wasn’t ready to throw her trust anywhere until she had a plain idea on why these fools had managed to get stranded on an ice rock millions of kilometers away from the dense giant that was jupiter.

now, even upon asking them to finally explain just what they were doing on her ship and how they got inside, or even just a brief explanation on why they chose her ship of all ships, she found that they seemed to waver uneasily. dawn seemed to fidget with her sleeves and vivienne semed to avoid eye-contact, it was only enzo who was staring straight ahead.

“ i don’t think you heard me. ”

jaw clenched, hope let out a sigh and crossed her bare arms over her chest. her hands, aching from the cuts of the wires she’d been working on, were twitching because she was close to having a nervous tick. her fingers mildly shook at times, something which she tried to hide.

because as nervous and as lost as she was, she wasn’t going to allow these guys the freedom of seeing her lose it. her ship had been invaded, her serenity had been tarnished and her mission would be ruined with every tick of the clock the longer they took in replying to her.

“ oh, we heard you, alright ”, enzo finally spoke up, meeting the gaze of the uneasy bounty hunter with a flicker of confidence in his eyes that had hope’s fingers craving to encase themselves around his neck. “ it’s just a matter of trust. ”

“ trust? ”, hope echoed, craning her head forward in an attempt to hear him correctly, brows knitted into a frown. “ you’re gonna sit there after having invaded my ship and taken most of my resources and preach to me about trust? ”.

dom spoke for the first time, hope took note of the sultry tone he harnessed and rose a brow at his sudden change of body language, leaning back into the chair and tucking his arms behind his head in such a casual way that she began to wonder whether he’d been taught the concept of self-awareness before.

“ he’s talking about your badge, rumple. ”

hope glanced down to the badge they were referring to. voyage inc saw that every member wore a badge as a form of identification, and as someone who wasn’t completely free from them despite working a job with no association to them, she carried the badge to access restricted areas around the galaxy. like underground cities and ship docks importing some sweet loot.

the badge was made of acrylic of some sort, a chip planted inside holding the identification intel. it was cut into a symmetrical v shape painted in navy blue with borders edged in an ebony color, accompanied by the word voyage written across the shape in small but identifiable letters. gold lettering.

anyone would feel a rise of pride whilst wearing a badge like this but hope had considered it more like a burden ever since she chose to resign from her position in the said corporation. being a navigator drained far too much of her energy and as great as she was at it, she needed action. hence her choice in following the path as a bounty hunter.

but that’s a story for another time.

“ ah ”, the girl grunted, nodding slowly before moving from her position at one end of the dinner table and slowly, began to circle it, walking behind each individual seat like a vulture circling its prey, waiting until it was at its weakest moment before attacking. but she wasn’t attacking. not yet. not until they gave her a reason to. “ and you’re convinced that due to my badge, i’ll turn you in. ”

“ that’s what voyage does. it’s known for never resting until every scum of the earth is behind bars or serving up some service to make up for the damage they made. and by scum, of course, i mean anyone who disagrees with their moral code ”, dom continued, lifting an index finger whilst speaking up in a matter-of-fact tone similar to a.j’s. hope didn’t like it one bit.

“ well, believe me, i am no fan of voyage’s way of work but you can’t expect them not to do something when there are brats like the bunch of you running around fucking everything up ”, hope spoke, looking directly at dom and his eyes were like magnets, they didn’t leave her until she circled enough to stand behind his seat. “ like the way you just invaded my ship. ”

“ w-wait, do you even work for voyage? ”, vivienne questioned, leaning forward slightly on her seat and hope shook her head.

“ i officially left the company years ago. i only work as a bounty hunter for their police unit so they still keep tabs on me. other than that, i ride solo ”, hope wasn’t planning on giving all of her details to these guys until she had some in return. “ but believe me, i’m not the type to send people to jail. normally i kill criminals. and looking at you, you seem to all have a bounty for your head. ”

quinn, who had not spoken a single word up until now, finally rose his voice after hope’s statement. something in his tone harnessed a youth, telling hope that perhaps he was still quite young, or at least the same age as her.

he started off timidly as if struggling to gather the right words. “ so, you’re a bounty hunter but you’re not going to kill us because you’d rather turn us in? ”, he voiced.

“ that all depends on what your captain tells me now. didn’t we agree, cap, that we’d discuss why you and your crew are stranded on europa with no ship? what happened, hmm? space accident? rival pirates? did voyage track you down and give you a nice beating? ”, hope asked. she could tell that the bruise near his cheek hadn’t been caused by her dart gun. in fact, she even pointed to it on her own face. “ nice bruise. matches your whole bad guy aesthetic. but since you got a bruise, maybe you aren’t as bad as you make yourself out to be. maybe it’s just plain stupidity. ”

a tense silence swept in, hope’s gaze remained nailed to the captain who didn’t show much of an effort in responding until a couple of seconds staring the bounty hunter down, he let out a sigh and sat forward. “ as you . . . rightfully pointed out, voyage doesn’t like us very much. we were escaping the m-colony after finding out that there was a bounty on our asses. we dipped, but then our ship engine malfunctioned and they found us and nearly ripped us to pieces ”, enzo’s gaze had dropped to the table now. and then he nodded in dawn’s direction. “ dawn was the only one well enough to patch us up. ”

hope rose a brow at the girl, “ you’re a medic? ”.

“ i’d hope so ”, dawn replied, her posture was hunched and shy as if she was scared of something and hope could understand why in this instance. it made her wonder if this girl was always like this and what she was like when the atmosphere wasn’t tense. “ i, uh, managed to heal everyone, but we were left drifting around and found europa to be the only safe place. so we used our last bit of jet power and energy and landed. we ran out of food and heating and . . . now we’re here. ”

hope stared at the girl. over the course of her career in chasing criminals, she had become an expert in spotting liars and this girl wasn’t cut out for it. if anything, she wasn’t cut out for causing any harm. she wouldn’t lie, hope thought.

turning her gaze back to enzo, hope continued. “ how’d you find my ship and how’d you get in? ”, she was quick to ask. no matter how much they tried to justify themselves, they still invaded her ship without permission and for that alone, they could have been thrown out. but she was being nice for the time being. ‘nice.’

“ the hatch opened at some point. we spotted it because it’s not that hard to miss, plus you’re on elevated ground and it can be spotted from a mile away even in a place like this ”, enzo explained with a slight tilt of the head. “ we didn’t think it’d be a voyage ship, of course. we assumed it might have been another pirate ship but . . . ”. his gaze wandered to hope, starting from her head down to her toes.

the study of hope’s eyes hardened as she suddenly became somewhat skeptical. “ i assume you had to leave your darling ship behind. and being pirates, you were about to use your tactics to take over another one and pillage it to your heart’s content and then run off with it ”, she pretty much had this entire story covered through her assumptions. “ a.j, did you run the check? ”.

“ yes ”, his luscious voice broke through, hope noticed the way dom nearly jumped in his seat. a.j’s spontaneous voice is known for startling most. she, as his owner, was quite used to it. “ there is a ship located some miles away but it’s in inoperant condition, i cannot access its database bec— ”.

“ because the whole ship is shut off, right ”, hope interrupted and nodded, tilting her head to the side slightly. “ okay. well, you mentioned your aims in reaching pluto for reason unbeknownst to me. care to elaborate? ”.

vivienne took hold, rightfully so because enzo didn’t look like he as ready to take on any more questions. it was like a police interrogation. “ p-colony is the furthest away from here and probably the safest. voyage tends to venture between saturn and venus only, and besides, from pluto, we can easily access other gate-ways to different galaxies and get away from here. it’s an escape plan but, of course, we never got to really initiate it ”, vivienne’s explanation had hope nodding in understanding, but not in sympathy.

because all of this was foreign to her. she wasn’t accustomed to pirates wandering in like they owned her ship, she wasn’t used to hearing about bounty missions aside from her own since she never tuned into ich anyway. the girl found it hard to sympathize with a group of criminals but she didn’t feel like she was in the position to dictate to them. whatever reasons they had for being pirates, she didn’t want to hear it.

the damage they’d caused, the people they’d robbed, the places they’d pillaged, it was unknown to her for the time being and thinking about it deeply, she could continue to be clueless to it if she just turned them in. but something about this had her curiosity peaking, which was unlike her at all. she wanted to know more despite not wanting to at the same time.

so, she had two options. they’d proposed the deal of being taken to pluto and then never bothering her again instead of being handed over to authorities. and quite frankly, all the signs were pointing for hope to hand them over quickly.

she could. she could totally ask a.j to phone another distress signal and maybe then they’ll send someone to fix her engine and take the pirates away.

killing two birds with one stone, she could say.

but hope took a pause. and looked at all of them individually. she wasn’t used to seeing many faces sat around a dinner table, she often goes nights sitting and eating alone, talking to an a.i unable to form opinions that weren’t logical, spending hours doing things alone. and then she imagined what life was like for them.

in a ship with people, with familiar faces which you don’t have to particularly like. sharing meals together, exploring together, sharing stories and experiences and forming true, life-long bonds that might last for years until death comes knocking on the front door.

hope couldn’t help but feel envious of that.

“ h-have you deduced your next move, uh . . . whatever your name is? ”, vivienne asked, breaking the silence hope was only made aware of now. the bounty hunter rose her head and paid the blonde a glance. “ s-sorry but you didn’t tell us what your name is, and i wouldn’t like to refer to you as rumple. ”

hearing a small snort from dawn, hope’s eyes ever so slightly softened and she allowed herself to nod. “ it’s hope ”, the bounty hunter introduced herself. “ no last name, i don’t like carrying one. ”

vivienne nodded, “ o-okay, well, hope. listen, we know breaching into a ship as it is can be considered as bad in the eyes of the moral public such as yourself. but we’re starving. and cold, and we want to get to safety. you don’t have to ever associate yourself with us. you can just take us to where we have to be, and you won’t ever have to hear from us again. ”

hope stared for a long time. she was uncertain of what to do. mingling with pirates already can be considered as mutiny if voyage were to ever find out. she would be in deep shit. deeper shit. and for some reason, knowing this, her body didn’t immediately react as a form of panic, she didn’t immediately pull the lever to dump them back onto the moon or perhaps rush to bring them to the nearest voyage policing station. her body remained incredibly still.

say if she did say yes. say if she agreed to deliberately put herself into a risky situation that could tarnish her career and forever change her way of living. the consequences would be drastic, she could count them in her head now. she had more reasons against this choice than for this choice. her intuition was telling her to back up.

danger, danger. don’t mingle with pirates, they always mean trouble.

“ we don’t have all day, rumple. ”

hope’s thoughts snapped back to the fact that the dom had the audacity to continue using the insult even though it was obvious who held the real power here. vivienne even leaned forward on her seat and hissed, “ dominic.”

“ seriously, we’ve got places to be and so does she. it isn’t that hard of a choice to make. we’ll just sit and wait for another ship to come if she’s unwilling to help ”, dom argued and hope finally noticed that he’d even risen from his chair. “ what, just because some chick with a voyage badge has a better ship and better stuff, we’re supposed to rely on her to make a good decision that’ll decide our well-being? ”.

“ there won’t be any well-being unless if we get food and warmth, dom. so either we accept it from someone who you may not particularly like or we don’t have any at all ”, vivienne spat back. hope stood there, impressed by how firmly she was able to catch hold of the situation. she radiated the energy of being assertive, hope only realized that now.

dom rolled his eyes, “ not you as well, vivi. we’re pirates. we shouldn’t be dependent on one person. if we give quinn enough time, he can easily fix the engine of our ship and we can get our asses to pluto faster than it’ll take for this girl to make a decision. ” the way he pointed at hope had her blood boiling.

because she disliked many things, but what she hated the most was being spoken to like she wasn’t present. being insulted whilst she was in the room, being indirected whilst already listening in to the conversation, treated like she was invisible when she very much knew everything.

she wasn’t dear nor blind nor stupid, and this dude was going to have to get it into his thick brain at one point or another.

“ the girl you’re referring to can easily be spoken to since she’s a fully grown adult ”, hope’s tone suddenly rose, cutting through the air like ice as she found herself glaring daggers at this guy. handsome as he was, he didn’t seem like the type she was going to get along with at all. “ and the girl you’re referring to might as well take your whole crew to pluto and just dump your ass into space somewhere if you’re gonna be an ass for the rest of the trip. ”

enzo suddenly seemed to have gathered his spirits again, as his posture straightened and his eyes that lacked life lit up in a series of sparks that left hope stunned for a moment. “ w-wait, so you’re taking us?! ”, he asked excitedly.

hope regained her composure, “ yeah, might as well. anything to get you guys off my back. and since i believe in karma, i think handing you to voyage will come to bite me in the ass at some point ”. the girl shrugged, her eyes shifting over to the table, anywhere but in the eyes of the pirates.

“ wow . . . ”, dawn let out a sigh equivalent to that of relief. hope hadn’t planned on saying yes either, so she understood the girl in some way or another. “ f-for a while, i thought we were doomed. uh, t-thank you, hope! ”. the smile the girl flashed her wasn’t expected, but it was pleasant, to say the least.

she couldn’t believe she had the courage to agree. she’d struck a bargain with a pirate and everything in her intellect was telling her to back out before she fell into a trap of some sort, that this would backfire and they were using it as an excuse to take over her ship and dump her into outer space.

she’s read enough bounty hunter journals to know that pirates aren’t the type of people you’d want to trust. but she didn’t trust them. she didn’t even think about trusting them. but a bargain was a bargain and hope was a woman of her word, and this one was one she was reluctantly willing to keep. to avoid karma.

enzo’s mouth, previously fallen open, closed as he suddenly shone a smile towards hope that she could only describe as the cocky greaser grin. the ones she would see in those old movies. he had that sort of energy, releasing confidence and self-assurance and perhaps that of an ego so full it was at the point of over-flowing but that’s beside the point for now.

“ well . . . i suppose it’s nice doing business with you ”, he spoke, but he didn’t reach over for a handshake and she was somewhat glad he didn’t. “ when do we set off? can we actually have dinner now? oh yeah, and where does the captain sit? i kinda need to know that for future referen— ”.

“ you’re not the captain here. ”

and that was something hope had no hesitation in declaring. she stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes piercing deeply into that of the pirate captain. as much of a captain as he may be for his set of fools, he was no captain on her ship. the nebula’s captain was hope, and it’s been like that for years and will remain so until hope’s passing. nobody was allowed to fly the nebula who wasn’t hope, nobody was allowed to claim the nebula who wasn’t hope.

“ pardon? ”.

“ you have ears, didn’t you hear me the first time? ”.

hope stared back at the increasingly widening eyes belonging to the pirate. “ the nebula has only ever seen one owner. and that’s me. she’s only ever seen one pilot, one navigator, one captain. and that’s me. to impose your place as a captain here is irrelevant. you’re not in your ship, cap, so until you get your ship back, nobody is touching that navigation cabin except for me ”, she explained firmly.

and the good thing was, no one dared to question her.

time skip ﹏

oh, she wasn’t used to this at all.

it’s been months since hope has been near people. traveling between planets, accessing strange locations, hunting criminal after criminal, sometimes two at the same time. she had planned on seeing people eventually, and it felt like the universe was starting to purposefully irritate her. perhaps it knew just how much hope hated being among crowds.

and now there were pirates on her ship. regardless of the fact that they looked more like average people than the tyrants she’d often seen in her adventures, they were still pirates. good-looking ones but pirates regardless. and they would be on her ship for a while.

and by a while, she meant as she soon as she finished her mission with crimson.

hope had shown them the extra cabins, in particular a room with around eight bunk beds, two on each side of the room, hidden into the wall as to make the room appear empty, most of the rooms in her ship were programmed to change appearances and appear plain and empty. it was a good tactic when she was hiding something she didn’t want others to see.

and after making sure they had all gotten clothes which were kept somewhere in the storage space and fed, hope realized she still needed to fix her engine. it was in the basement, the process waiting to be completed and she forced herself onto her feet despite really needing some proper sleep.

taking the elevator down once again, hope took a glance at the time. she had wasted at least six hours fixing the engine along with dealing with the intrusion from the pirates. so now she had perhaps six hours left to get this thing fixed if she required twenty-four hours to prepare herself for the hunt.

upon hearing rattling, it was brought to her attention that she wasn’t alone. what’s when she spotted quinn, of all people, fiddling away with the engine as if he had taken the impulse to fix it.

“ uh, you’re not supposed to be here ”, hope voiced, but the kid merely looked over his shoulder and acknowledged her, and then turned back. hope didn’t like being ignored. “ quinn. ”

“ relax, i’m just fixing the engine for you. i want to go soon as well, you know ”, he argued. so hope sighed and approached him in his crouching position and looked into the hatchet to see just what he was doing. from what she’d heard, this guy was a mechanic. “ the cable you picked was good but it was also broken. so i fixed it and now i’m just installing it back into the circuit. shouldn’t take too long. ”

hope stood there quietly, arms crossed over her chest. her eyes traveled to the side of the boy’s face, his eyes were fixated on the job, and he acted all with a sense of purpose. they say, after all, that human beings get satisfaction from starting something and completing it. and based on his knowledge, he knew what he was doing. so she didn’t worry entirely too much.

“ how long have you been doing this? ”.

“ hm? ”. quinn looked up and saw her nod towards the engine. “ oh. i’ve been doing it nearly all my life. dad’s a pirate, but he was always more of the adventurer kind so there was never really anyone to fix his ship. so i started to learn from some of his friends and picked it up mainly as a hobby. but then i found it to be a reason to help my old man in some way. e-even if it’s just fixing things. ”

hope nodded, that was a valid reason. people go out of their ways to help others in any way they can, it was something about humans, from what she knew, that hadn’t really changed. but from what many have said in history books, the people of today were a little bit more . . . selfish. because they had everything. so what was the reason of helping someone who already has everything? no reason. well, that’s what they think.

“ where’s your old man now? ”.

“ don’t know, haven’t been able to trace him down for ages. i’ve been told all sorts of different things, that he’s in another galaxy or in a goldilock planet not far from us. some have told me that he’s in jail ”, quinn explained it so plainly. it sounded like the kid had gone through a lot if none of these were causing any alarm to him. “ but he’s alive, i can tell that for a fact. ”

you can never be too sure, hope wanted to say, but she kept her lips drawn in a thin line, it wasn’t her place to comment on personal matters, let alone that of a person she barely knew. but she continued to linger beside him as he went about his work. around ten minutes or so, Quinn suddenly pulled back and sighed.

“ all done? ”.

“ yeah, all done. i suggest telling your a.i to reboot the system now that it’s fixed. we’ll be running soon, i’ll imagine ”, quinn voiced and stood up, taking the cloth hope kept in her toolbox and wiped his hands with it.

hope was rather glad someone had fixed it. honestly, knowing how carried away she can be, she would have never realized that the cable was faulty and she would have probably been here for longer than she intended if it hadn’t been for this boy. so she thought it was appropriate to thank him.

“ u-uh, cheers for that ”, hope voiced, quinn looked up and met her gaze. “ for fixing it. i wouldn’t have realized it was a shitty cable, and i would have probably been stranded out here. so thank you, for . . . doing it without even having to be asked. ”

quinn stared at her for a moment, and she thought that perhaps there was something on her face for a moment until he spoke with a shrug, averting his eyes away. “ it’s alright. the ship wasn’t making the noise it was supposed to be so i assumed it was the engine. besides, dom said that he saw you struggling down here with something ”.

hope’s jaw clenched. so it was dominic who was walking around scaring the absolute shit out of her. “ he doesn’t know when it’s his business or not, huh? ”, she asked mostly rhetorically, cursing under her breath.

“ hah, yeah. but that’s just dom, he’s like that. i’m sorry if he bothers you but the longer we wait, the more time you’ll have to spend around us ”, quinn stated. “ we are . . . leaving straight away, right? ”.

hope shook her head, “ no. i have a hunt to go on and i can’t miss this fool. hence why i need you guys to stay on the ship and to avoid stepping outside once i’ve landed at the docks. if anyone sees you in my ship, i’ll be in deep shit. ”

“ you could say you’ve arrested us ”, he suggested.

“ yeah, and set you guys free to roam around? unlikely. besides, if they get too suspicious, they’ll take you from me. i’m not a voyage police officer, i’m merely a bounty hunter who kills criminals rather than arrest them. and i can’t say i was planning to kill you because that doesn’t make any sense. so just, stay on the ship. it’s safer here ”, hope requested. “ a.j, reboot the system! ”.

the lights around them seemed to dim and i was probably like that for the rest of the ship. hope closed the hatchet of the engine and allowed a couple of seconds of silence until the lights came on at full brightness. hope blinked her aching, burning eyes and found herself exhausted all of a sudden. but she couldn’t sleep. not now.

quinn looked at her curiously, “ how long has it been since you’ve slept? ”.

“ don’t know, you lose track of time in outer space. whichever planet you’re closest to, you sync into its day-night cycle and i was on earth a couple of days back. don’t know how many days but i got accustomed to its twenty-four-hour cycle ”, hope held a hand to her forehead and she rubbed her eyes slightly. “ but i’ll be okay. i just need to get energy drinks. ”

“ you like energy drinks? ”.

hope released something equivalent to a chuckle, “ who doesn’t? it’s my lifeline at this point. ” she shook her head and motioned to the elevator. “ uh, anyway, thanks for fixing the engine. you can go and rest up if you want, i’ll probably be in my room or in the navigation cabin. we’ll be setting off in a couple of hours. ”

quinn nodded and took the impulse to step forward, appearing reluctant but then he proceeded into the elevator and hope watched the doors close and the transparent container rise up the metal tube and quinn was gone.

hope let out a tired sigh and blinked, she was on the verge of fainting due to the tiredness and this whole situation had been an emotional rollercoaster, especially for her. and she needed to relax. but she remained tense even after the engine had returned to normal and after she had taken the elevator up to her cabin.

now there alone, hope sat on her chair and looked out towards the empty space beyond her. europa was a dead and vast moon similar to that of what the arctic had once looked like on planet earth. mountains of ice so hard it had turned to granite. hence why the temperatures were so low. but now the ship was warming up and hope found herself dozing off at times, a.j didn’t intervene.

and the last thoughts she had were debates on whether any of this was a good idea.

it was bad to trust a pirate, let alone a group of them.

but it would all be over soon. after she crossed off crimson off her bounty list, she could take them to pluto where she would be rid of another headache. voyage would leave her alone and perhaps then she would be able to travel and hunt in peace.

yes, all of this will be over soon enough.

#chapter 1 #space pirates au #writing #original writing

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