#feeling angry about homophobia on this monday morning sorry about that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

georgescatcafe · 3 years

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heaven can wait (we’re only watching the skies)

rating: t warning/s: slight internalized homophobia pairing/s: dreamnap genres/tags: high school au, friends to lovers word count: 6,639 summary: Dream was initially going to go to prom with him. Not, like, as a date, but… as a friend. Just two guys hanging out together. They’d go together and hang out and make fun of the people there, maybe, and they’d eat food that neither of them trusted to be good and they’d see if the punch was spiked and they’d have fun. Together.

And then Sapnap had checked the school website to find the rules changed. Only students from their school allowed, no exceptions. And Dream was homeschooled in a program completely separate to the school.

It sucked.

And now here Sapnap is, emptily drinking soda and watching a basketball game featuring teams he honestly doesn’t even care about. And thinking about Dream.

+ao3

;;

“Dude,” Sapnap says into the phone, staring blankly at the school’s website, “I have, like, zero interest in prom now that you can’t come. That rule is so stupid.”

“It is, but you’re not sneaking me in and getting suspended,” Dream replies.

“That’s only if I get caught,” Sapnap argues, “which I won’t.”

“Don’t even risk it.” Dream sighs, and Sapnap lets out one of his own in agreement. “Just go, and think about what we can do the next day—ice cream, maybe a drive to the beach, hey! Monday is Skip Day, right? Let’s stay the night at the beach. That’s awesome, right? Prom and then all that?”

“Prom without you, though?” Sapnap isn’t convinced.

He can see Dream’s frown crystal clear in his mind. “Don’t throw away unforgettable experiences just because of me. Besides, aren’t some of your friends going?”

“Our friends,” Sapnap corrects, even though that’s not entirely true. In freshman year, before, they were always more Sapnap’s friends than Dream’s, and even then, there weren’t that many in their group—just Sapnap, Dream, a guy from chess club, and two guys from the egamer group that met once every too many months.

Dream lets out a breath. “Our friends,” he agrees, nonetheless. “So isn’t that enough?”

“It’s just not right,” Sapnap says. “You belong in my unforgettable experiences, Dream.”

“Don’t go waxing poetic on me, Pandas,” Dream scolds, though it’s hard to take him seriously with both the nickname and the fondness creeping into his voice.

“I’ll do it,” Sapnap repeats, “sneak you in. I’ll do it and I’ll get away with it and it’ll be fun. For both of us.”

“Sapnap,” Dream tries one last time, and he sounds so tired, so utterly exhausted, that Sapnap cuts him off.

“Fine,” he says, “you win. You’re not going, and I’m going without,” Sapnap swallows, “without you.”

;;

Come the final day to buy tickets, however, and Sapnap is still without one for himself, and without a suit, and without a date, and without a plan on getting to prom. He eyes the ticket booth warily, knowing if he chooses not to buy one today, it’s over for him.

Janson, one of the guys from the egamer group, takes a seat at the lunch table next to him. “Are you going?”

Sapnap stares at the booth for another second before shrugging. “Not really my scene.”

“Your scene?”

“Loud,” Sapnap replies, poking halfheartedly at his soggy rice, switching to the fruit drowning in juice. “Lots of people. I don’t really care.”

“Is it ‘cause you don’t have a date?” Janson asks. “Because yeah, that sucks, but no one actually cares, dude.”

Sapnap glances over at him for a second before shrugging once more and finally taking a bite of his weird blueberry mush. “I know. It’s not ‘cause of that. I just don’t really want to go.”

Janson studies him before nodding and stirring his own blueberry mush around with a spoon. “Suit yourself. We’ll miss you, though.”

At that, Sapnap laughs. “You don’t have to lie for me. But thanks, man.”

Janson gives him an easy smile. “Any time.”

;;

The hardest part is telling Dream.

But Sapnap wasn’t lying when he told Janson prom isn’t his scene. It is a lot—lots of people, lots of noise, lots going on in general. He doesn’t care about nor want that. He’d rather take a quiet night at home watching basketball with his dad on the couch over getting knocked between sweaty girls and guys while bass shakes the floor beneath him. Maybe, if he doesn’t make him too angry, Sapnap can even convince Dream to come over before their scheduled meeting the next day.

He can only hope Dream understands as he types this all out in a late night Discord message explaining what happened. And then he tries to throw himself into a game of CSGO, and when that doesn’t work, a game of League. When that doesn’t work either, he just rises out of his chair and flops pathetically onto his bed, closing his eyes and praying for sleep to come fast.

When he wakes up, it’s to six new messages from Dream—a rare sight—and two missed calls. Sapnap stares at the notifications until his eyes sting.

Dream: i mean, it’s ur choice, but i rly don’t want u to regret this sap

He won’t.

Dream: and as it turns out, my older sister has something going on this weekend, so we can’t meet up either :( sorry :(

That’s… okay. It’s fine. Sapnap gets it. Just a weekend for himself, then.

Dream: are u sure u don’t want to go? r u sure u’re sure?

Dream: i sound naggy ik i just don’t want u missing out on these things

Dream: ok?

Dream: sap?

Sapnap types his response—he won’t regret it, sucks about this weekend but it’s fine, Dream’s not being naggy, really, and sorry, he was asleep—then hits send and tries not to feel too bad about everything.

Unsurprisingly, “everything” doesn’t include the prom itself. Sapnap really couldn’t care less about the actual prom.

;;

The rest of the week passes by quickly, and before Sapnap knows it, it’s prom night, and he’s sitting on the couch next to his dad, basketball game on the TV and soda can in his hand. And then it’s time for prom to start, and the ball is tossed into the air. Briefly, Sapnap wonders if Janson scored a date—though he consoled Sapnap over his lack of one, he never talked about his own.

Sapnap wonders what Dream is doing, why they didn’t decide to simply meet up tonight. Maybe he was sleeping? Playing Minecraft? Maybe he was thinking about Sapnap?

Maybe he was thinking about Sapnap.

Sapnap blinks, and the score changes from 12-8 to 12-11. From the other side of the couch, his dad leans closer to the TV. Sapnap sends a glance back to the kitchen, wondering if they still have those chips he likes. His dad crunches on cheddar Ruffles.

Dream was initially going to go to prom with him. Not, like, as a date—not like that. That’s weird, but… as a friend. Just two guys hanging out together. Maybe they’d match, probably not, but they’d go together and hang out and make fun of the people there, maybe, and they’d eat food that neither of them trusted to be good and they’d see if the punch was spiked and they’d have fun. Together.

It sucked.

And now here Sapnap is, emptily drinking soda and watching a basketball game featuring teams he honestly doesn’t even care about. And thinking about Dream.

Sapnap downs the rest of his soda. “I think I’m going to go play some League.” He stands and crushes his can in his hand.

His dad doesn’t look away from the TV. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t,” Sapnap says, but he doesn’t even know if his dad’s heard, since he’s already back in his room, door slammed shut behind him, can tossed into the trash and chair creaking as he falls into it.

Despite his dad’s words, Sapnap games late into the night, and when he wakes, his head hurts from the way he’s had it pressed to the desk, asleep for however many hours. He shakes his computer mouse till the monitor comes on and he stares at it blearily as he realizes he managed to close out of his games before falling asleep. His Discord is empty, no new messages, no missed calls, and he sighs before sending a message to Dream.

Long day?

He closes out of the app before spinning around and heading out of his room to scrounge for breakfast. His dad isn’t in the living room, though the bag of Ruffles he’d been eating from sits there on the coffee table, empty, and the remote still rests on the arm of the couch. Sapnap can only assume he headed to bed after the game ended.

Once in the kitchen, he searches through the fridge before deciding to just eat a bowl or two of cereal. Part of him is still into the fanfare of prom, and he’s filled with a quiet shock at how mundane Sunday morning feels, in comparison to what was likely a crazy night for a bunch of seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds. Sapnap bites back a derisive snort. Last night was so crazy for him. Totally.

But it was his choice, and he doesn’t regret it.

Now if he had gone, he’d regret that he’d gone without doing everything he could to get Dream there. And that’s a regret he just couldn’t live with.

Sapnap sets his now empty bowl in the sink.

Skipping prom? Yeah, he doesn’t regret it.

;;

Come two weeks later, and Dream is sitting next to him on a park bench telling him about a different prom, one they can go to together, one without rules, without limitations.

Sapnap doesn’t even need to hear the rest of it before he’s agreeing, throwing an arm around Dream’s shoulders and talking quickly about how great the night will be.

“It’s actually themed,” Dream finally interrupts him, holding a hand up and stopping Sapnap mid-daydream.

“Oh?”

Dream nods. “Decades. Got any ideas?”

He doesn’t. When he tells Dream as much, Dream sighs, staring out at the empty swingswet, the swings swaying slightly in the summer breeze. Sapnap sighs too, though he watches his friend, not the playground. “We could do, like, Dad Rock. Seventies, y’know?”

At that, Dream laughs, full and loud, and Sapnap smiles by reflex. Dream rests his chin in his palms, elbows digging into the tops of his thighs. “Remember when we read The Outsiders in eighth grade? What were they called? We could be those.”

“Oh,” Sapnap bites back a snort, “uh, greasies? No,” he and Dream speak at the same time, “greasers!” The laugh he’d been keeping down finally breaks free, spilling past his lips as Dream grins. “We could be those. We’re hot.”

“So hot,” Dream agrees, though he’s still giggling slightly, turning away from Sapnap so the other can’t see his smile, but his shaking shoulders give away his amusement.

Sapnap grins, bright, happy. “When is it again?” he asks.

Dream leans back, head tilting back so he can stare up at the clear blue sky. “A month from now. June 7th. Think you can go?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sapnap says, like it’s obvious. (Because it is obvious. Even if he couldn’t, he’d find a way to go. He’s just that loyal. To Dream, specifically, but that’s not important.) He clears his throat at his own thoughts. “I definitely can go.”

Dream looks to him, then, small smile on his face. “Awesome.”

Sapnap smiles back. Awesome.

;;

May trudges on like its stuck in the mud, Sapnap counting down the days until this rule-less prom. Dream was pretty sparing with the details, only saying it’s date and theme, and Sapnap can’t help but itch with the need to know everything. When he questions Dream for more info, however, the other shrugs him off, turning the tables and asking him if he’s settled on a decade yet.

“I thought we were choosing together,” Sapnap tells him over a Discord call one night, prom finally only a week away.

“So nothing?” Dream asks. “Let’s meet up tomorrow; we’ll figure it out then.”

It’s a plan, and come eleven in the morning, he and Dream are meeting outside of the city’s mall. “This feels kind of stupid,” Sapnap admits when they go through the sliding doors leading to Macy’s mens’ department. “Like, wow, we’re really putting effort into it.”

“Says you when there’s only a week left,” Dream replies. “Putting effort into it means having had our costumes in our closets since the day I told you about it.”

“True,” Sapnap replies, picking up a paisley tie from the clearance table. “What is this?”

Dream takes it from him, setting it back down. “Something we definitely don’t want.”

“Yeah,” Sapnap keeps his eyes on it as they walk away, “no shit.”

They don’t buy anything from Macy’s mens’ department. For an hour they wander aimlessly up and down the mall, more time spent talking rather than looking. It’s only until Sapnap’s stomach rumbles that the two of them realize they’ve gotten nothing done. Their feet finally take them to the food court.

“Shopping for a prom outfit is hard,” Sapnap says into his fries, while Dream nods in agreement shoving a chicken nugget into his mouth and staring down at a greasy spot on the table. “I mean, my feet hurt, and we haven’t even bought a t-shirt or something.”

“We haven’t even gone inside a store,” Dream replies.

Sapnap groans, shoving a fry in his mouth. “This is so stupid.”

They walk the mall again, this time going into various stores, pointing out ridiculous gag gifts and Sapnap picking up more hideous ties. Finally, Dream grabs a leather jacket off the Dillard’s clearance rack and tugs it on over his shoulders. It’s military-style, almost, the shoulders strong, and when Dream turns, it stretches broad across his back before tapering off at his waist. Sapnap swallows. It fits Dream well.

When Dream turns back around, Sapnap’s eyes shoot back up to his face, and he hopes his face isn’t as red as it is hot. He grabs the jacket next to it, also a large luckily, and puts it on. Dream gives him a thumbs up when he turns around to show it off.

“Looks good,” Dream says, and his cheeks aren’t red, and Sapnap isn’t disappointed about that.

They buy the jackets, think about what shoes they own, then buy some cheapy black shades.

“I don’t know if I can do my hair like they did,” Sapnap tells Dream when they go back through Macy’s and pass some grooming kits, jars of pomade on the shelf next to them.

“I might be able to,” Dream says, studying his reflection in the mirror on the post next to the grooming kits. He’s always kept his hair cropped pretty close, but Sapnap knows it’s been awhile since he’s gotten it cut, bangs starting to grow in the front, actually almost reaching his brows. Sapnap thinks it suits Dream, but he sees the way Dream always tries to push his hair back, though it always flops back into place.

“Maybe,” Sapnap agrees. “I think the glasses and jacket should be enough if you can’t though, right?”

Dream glances at the jars of pomade before nodding. “Right.”

;;

Dream and him got their licenses at sixteen, but Dream says he can pick Sapnap up Saturday, “don’t worry about gas money.”

“Are you sure?” Sapnap asks Saturday morning, both about the picking-up and the gas money.

“I’m sure,” Dream replies. “Just be out in front of your house before six, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Sapnap says. “You don’t think our parents want any pictures, would they?”

“Of course not,” Dream answers. “Your dad taking pictures of the two of us?”

“My stepmom maybe,” Sapnap laughs, but she left the house that morning, heading to the city to do her own business. She’s not going to get any pictures of them.

Dream laughs too before he finally says, “See you later then,” and Sapnap is left rushing to get dressed.

He feels giddy, almost, heart racing and stomach turning over itself. His hair has grown out much like Dream’s has over the school year, him never bothering to get it cut or trimmed, and he gives up on the pompadour when it comes out a wet looking lump on the top of his head, strings of hair falling in his face. He sighs and rinses out the product in the sink, leaving it to air dry and drip droplets onto his white t-shirt. By 5:45pm, he’s sweating, face flushed and chest tight, stomach still doing flips, and he ties his mostly dry hair back into a low ponytail, hoping it’s not too off-brand. Finally, he pulls on his jacket, though it feels restrictive and hot with the summer air and his nerves, and he has to stare at himself in the mirror for the next ten minutes repeating to himself that it’s just Dream and that it’s not romantic and that he’s acting like a freak, stupid and quite possibly into his best friend. (But he’s not.)

Then he marches himself out to his curb and sits.

Dream pulls up a couple minutes after six, his hair actually done Greaser-style, and damn it, he looks good.

(Sapnap can think that. He’s not blind. Anyone could see that his best friend is attractive. It’s just a general thing. Not a thing.)

When he gets into the passenger seat, Dream grins at him from behind matching dark sunglasses. “Looking good.”

“We look hot, man,” Sapnap says, a lot more casual than he feels.

The grin doesn’t leave Dream’s face as he puts the car in drive and takes off down the road.

Sapnap honestly doesn’t know where his nerves have come from—how is this prom any different from the school one, like, actually? How is Dream and him going to this one any different from them going to the high school’s? They won’t know anyone at this one, he’s pretty sure, but who cares? Isn’t that better for them? He glances over at Dream, who’s got his wrists crossed over the steering wheel as they speed down the highway to their destination.

It’s just Dream. Sapnap is just excited. It’s normal. It’s Dream.

He lets himself relax.

;;

“What the fuck?” Sapnap whispers to Dream when two girls pass by them looking straight out of some period piece. “I thought you said this was decades themed?”

Dream looks just as perturbed, brows furrowed as a girl and a guy dressed like pirates enter after the Victorian girls. “Guess they meant all decades,” he replies.

Sapnap stares at him before they reach the check-in counter where a woman with her face painted like a member of KISS checks their ages and directs them to the room where the prom’s held.

Madonna plays loud over the speakers, and Sapnap eyes a kid who spins his hands around his face while a small group of onlookers watch in awe. He glances over at Dream, who continues to face forward, leading him over to an empty table, undisturbed. When they sit down, Sapnap turns to the dance floor, where the Victorian girls are, twirling and laughing, and where a boy looking straight out of the 80s sways with another who wears a hat like Jamie from Mythbusters and suspenders attached to plaid, fitted pants. Sapnap watches them for another second before turning stiffly to Dream.

“Where are we?” he asks carefully.

“Sapnap,” Dream starts, but a look from Sapnap has his mouth shutting fast. He stares right back before sighing, leaning back in his chair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I mean, I knew, but I didn’t think it’d—look, we can leave. It’s fine.”

“Well,” Sapnap huffs, dropping his gaze to his lap, where his fingers grip the denim of his jeans tightly, knuckles turning white, “it’s not fine, but—I don’t really want to leave. I like—I wanted to go to prom with you.”

A laugh, and Sapnap looks over quickly to see the 80s boy tugging the Mythbusters hat’s jacket over his shoulders. Sapnap thinks he might be sick.

“Not like that,” he adds.

“Right,” Dream says.

The booming of the bass rattles Sapnap to his core, along with the table. Even the hand Dream has placed on it doesn’t stop it from shaking. Sapnap wonders what would happen if he were to take Dream’s hand. Dream pulls it back and drops it into his lap. Sapnap tightens his hold on his jeans.

“I am sorry,” Dream tells him. “But I didn’t really think you’d mind. We’re friends, Sapnap. Why does where we are have to change that?”

“It doesn’t,” Sapnap replies, but people can misunderstand. People will misunderstand. He tells Dream as much.

Dream frowns, leans forward. Sapnap doesn’t meet his gaze. “Sapnap,” Dream says, “why would they misunderstand?”

Because they match. Because, under the table, their feet knock against each other. Because when Sapnap looks at Dream, the rest of the world disappears, and he’s certain the rest of the world knows it.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sapnap mutters. “They just would.”

Dream says something. It’s lost to the sound of Rihanna, declaring that a bitch better have her money. Sapnap’s foot taps quickly against the floor, and this time, when it brushes up against Dream’s, he readjusts, feet no longer under the table. Dream sighs, resting his chin on his palm.

Finally, he looks to Sapnap again. “Does it bother you that much?”

“Does what bother me?”

Dream stares at him for a second before looking out at the dance floor. “Them misunderstanding?”

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Sapnap asks.

Dream is silent for so long after that Sapnap almost forgets he’s waiting for a response. “No,” Dream says at last. “It doesn’t.”

Sapnap doesn’t know how to reply to that.

They just sit there after that, watching the crowd wax and wane, change based on the song playing. Dream pushes himself up out of his chair when a familiar number starts. He holds out a hand. “Come on.”

Sapnap stares at the hand. “Dude, he says, “what.”

“Dance,” Dream replies. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“What the fuck?” Sapnap lets out a laugh, glancing over at Mythbusters hat and 80s boy. They’re laughing over something on 80s boy’s phone, foreheads resting close together, cheeks flushed pink in the dim light that hangs over their table. He looks back at Dream. “No way.”

“It’s ‘Come on Eileen,’” Dream says, but Sapnap is resolute, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. They hold a short staring contest before Dream sighs, looking away. Sapnap doesn’t even have the chance to puff up at his W before Dream is reaching forward and taking him by the arm, pulling him out of his seat and to the dance floor.

“Dream!” Sapnap argues, trying to pull away, but Dream’s hold on him is lethal and Sapnap is unwillingly pulled into the circle that’s formed, one arm tugged behind Dream’s back by Dream’s free hand, and the other tossed over a girl’s shoulder. She gives him a bright smile before the circle begins to move, slowly, ever so slowly, then quicker.

It’s like a treadmill, Sapnap thinks, watching his feet and making sure not to step on the girl’s sparkly slippers. Her laugh is loud even with the music blasting and Sapnap starts to gain some of her enthusiasm as the chorus hits. And then a laugh comes from behind him, and he can’t help but look over his shoulder.

Dream is already grinning at him. Sapnap couldn’t stop himself from grinning back even if he tried. The circle speeds up, and soon Dream is a constant cackle in his ear, Sapnap joining in as the group turns this way and that, before they all jump to a stop and kick a foot in the center.

Sapnap is awkward, slightly off-balance the way he holds on to Dream’s back and leans towards the girl, her shorter than him. He’s running out of breath quick too, kicking quicker and quicker before they’re spinning again and again, all smiling, all laughing, some singing, some panting, and Dream brings their heads closer together as they share one more laugh before the song is fading out, and then it’s just them alone, the others retreating back to their seats or to their own friend groups, just Dream and Sapnap breathing in each other’s exhales.

“That was fun,” Sapnap admits, and Dream nods, arm still around Sapnap’s shoulders, his other one eventually coming up to join it. Sapnap still has an arm around Dream, though it’s slipped so his hand rests at the small of Dream’s back. He swallows.

Dream notices his discomfort, and the smile falls from his face. “Sapnap,” he says.

Sapnap shakes his head. “It’s fine.” His fingers curl into the soft leather of Dream’s jacket. “They can misunderstand.”

I want them to misunderstand.

Sapnap looks up at the same time Dream lets go. “What?” he asks. Dream starts to take a step back, but Sapnap doesn’t let go. “No, you don’t get to—Dream, what did you say?”

“I—,” Dream’s eyes are wide, startled, scared, and Sapnap can’t help but think this isn’t fair. He stares Dream down, and eventually, Dream stares back. When he speaks, he can barely be heard over the music, even with the minimal distance between them. “I want them to misunderstand.”

It’s like he took the words straight from Sapnap’s brain, putting them out there for everyone to hear. Sapnap feels sick, and the feeling only grows when his head falls forward to rest on Dream’s chest. “What the fuck,” he says.

“Sorry,” Dream apologizes above him.

“What—no,” Sapnap’s face screws up, even though Dream can’t see, “you don’t get to apologize, dude. What the hell.” Sapnap feels a weight then on his back, hesitant then heavier. Dream’s hands. He closes his eyes. “What the hell,” he repeats.

“Let’s go back to our table,” Dream says. Sapnap nods, standing up straight, but Dream just pulls him into his side then, and Sapnap thinks about resisting, thinks about getting mad, maybe even leaving (but without a car, without Dream, where would he go?), but in the end, he just lets himself fall more into Dream, the other bearing his weight easily, leading them over to the table they had left.

When they sit, Dream stares down at his hands. Sapnap stares at him. “How long have you known?” he asks.

“About what?” Dream replies.

Sapnap shrugs.

Dream studies him for a second before looking back at his hands. “About myself, since maybe always. About you…?” He smiles then, bitter. “Maybe just as long.”

Sapnap sucks in a breath.

Dream looks over. “What about you?”

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I think—I think I didn’t want to know.”

Dream snorts derisively. “With your dad, I wouldn’t want to know either.”

That gets a laugh out of Sapnap, but it’s dry, empty. “Hey,” he defends his dad halfheartedly, “my dad isn’t that bad.”

The bitter smile on Dream’s lips twists into downright acidic.

Sapnap sighs. “I’m glad it’s you.”

Dream looks at him. Sapnap stares back.

“You’re my best friend,” he tells him. “I can tell you anything.”

“Me too,” Dream replies. “I’m glad it’s you too.” And then he frowns, looking out over the crowd. “But I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

Sapnap is too, but he doesn’t tell the other that. Instead, he shrugs. “Could be worse,” he says. “I could hate you right now. But I don’t. I think I feel about you how you feel about me.” The last sentence is hard to get out, like bile in his throat. He hopes Dream doesn’t realize that.

When Dream smiles at him, then, he guesses he doesn’t. “I,” Dream looks back down at his hands, “like you, Sapnap.”

And that’s the truth, isn’t it? Dream likes Sapnap, and Sapnap likes Dream. Now Sapnap just needs to figure out what to do with that.

“I like you too,” he says, and Dream turns to him, eyes wide, as if they hadn’t established this already—maybe, for Dream, they hadn’t, “but I don’t know—I don’t know if this is good for us, Dream.”

“We’re best friends,” Dream starts to respond, but Sapnap cuts him off.

“Exactly.” He pulls his jacket tighter. “I don’t want to lose that.”

“We don’t have to,” Dream replies. “Why can’t we be both?”

“Why isn’t what we are already enough?” Sapnap argues. “I can’t afford to lose you, Dream. You’re my favorite person.”

“You wouldn’t lose me,” Dream denies. “You’re the one that was willing to cut me from your life for losing.”

“We were ten,” Sapnap scowls. “That’s not the same.”

Dream doesn’t reply. He knows it’s not.

The upbeat ABBA song playing does not match the mood that’s settled over their table. Sapnap drags his shoe along the floor. Dream drums his fingers against the table.

“Should we have not said anything then?” Dream asks. “Do we act like this never happened? Because I don’t know if I can do that.”

Sapnap doesn’t think he can either. Nonetheless, he shrugs.

Dream huffs. “Look,” he says, “you’re my best friend. I like you. If we stay friends, I’ll still like you. If we become more,” he swallows, squaring his shoulders, “and that doesn’t work, we’ll still be friends in the end. Okay?”

Sapnap doesn’t entirely believe him, but when he meets Dream’s gaze, Dream looks so determined, so resolute, that Sapnap finds himself echoing an okay. Then the clouds part, and Dream smiles. Sapnap tries to smile back.

The ABBA song ends and a much more recent pop song begins to play, but neither of them move, choosing instead to sit in a still silence that leaves Sapnap wondering what Dream is thinking.

Sapnap squeezes his eyes shut, shoving his curiosity aside to instead gaze out at the dance floor. The girl that was next to him in the circle bounces around three other teenagers, light-colored hair a kaleidoscope of colors in the everchanging club lights. When she spots Sapnap staring, she smiles, throwing up a peace sign. Sapnap gives her a small wave. Their eyes stay locked for another second before she makes a little motion towards Dream and Sapnap looks at him, only to find Dream already looking back. Sapnap sighs before rising from his chair.

“Your turn,” he says, hand already extended out towards the other.

Dream doesn’t hesitate in grabbing his hand and letting Sapnap pull him up.

Sapnap leads them to the dance floor, fully prepared to halfheartedly bop his head to the song playing, but then—and of course it’s just his luck—the minute he steps onto the wooden panels, the song changes to something mellow… and slow.

So very slow.

He turns to Dream, eyes wide in alarm, but all Dream does is smile.

“Don’t back out now,” he says.

Sapnap glares at him. “You wish.”

Dream laughs before putting a hand on Sapnap’s waist and an arm around his neck. Sapnap lets out a harsh breath but doesn’t pull away, just follows Dream’s lead, pulling him close. The emcee is saying something probably absolutely humiliating, but Sapnap ignores the queen (oh God, the emcee is a drag queen, how did he not realize that upon walking in?) in favor of focusing on Dream, on not stepping on his toes, on not bumping into other dancers, on not getting lost in the other’s eyes, however stereotypical it may be.

Dream lowers his head until their foreheads almost touch, and Sapnap is painfully reminded of 80s boy and Mythbusters hat. He looks down to the floor.

“Pandas,” Dream whispers, and Sapnap curses his heart for jumping.

“What?” he replies, still looking down.

“Look at me,” Dream urges.

Sapnap shakes his head, but then the arm around Sapnap’s neck becomes just a hand, and then that hand is traveling up, up over his neck, to his ear, fingers curling around his jaw, forcing Sapnap’s gaze from the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Dream says.

Sapnap finds himself stuck staring into Dream’s eyes. “Why?”

“You didn’t go to prom because I wouldn’t be there, and now we’re at a prom together, and you’re not having fun because I’m here.” His thumb strokes across Sapnap’s cheek—Sapnap hopes he can’t feel the heat under his skin. “So I’m sorry.”

“I’m having fun,” Sapnap replies, automatic.

“Because having me confess me to you and forcing you to dance with me and taking you to a fucking,” he breaks their gaze only to look around demonstratively, “gay prom is fun for you.”

But even with his reply being automatic, Sapnap finds it true. It’s not conventional, and he’s felt vaguely nauseous this entire time, but the dance circle was fun, and just standing here with Dream, swaying back and forth, it’s fun too. And there’s something nice about having everything out in the open. He and Dream like each other.

Wait.

He and Dream like each other. He and Dream like each other. Dream likes him.

“You like me,” Sapnap whispers.

Dream still hears him. “Yeah,” he replies, easy, “I like you a lot.”

“I think I missed that,” Sapnap says, louder. “You like me.”

Dream stares at him. “Yes,” he replies. “I like you.”

Sapnap stares back before he removes his hand from Dream’s waist to put it on his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of Dream’s t-shirt as Sapnap tugs him down into a kiss. Dream’s lips are surprisingly soft for the amount of times Sapnap has caught Dream biting at them, and Dream himself is surprisingly gentle when he brings his other hand up from Sapnap’s waist to cradle his jaw. Sapnap lets out a quiet exhale when they pull apart.

Dream is looking at him, but his gaze is distant, his mind somewhere far away.

Sapnap lets go of his shirt to shove him slightly. “Dream?” he asks, wondering if he might’ve just ruined everything, despite Dream’s insistence that a change in their relationship wouldn’t affect their friendship.

“I think people might misunderstand us now,” Dream says.

Sapnap can’t help it—he laughs. “You think?” And then Dream is laughing too, pulling him in for another kiss even as the song changes and the floor becomes crowded with everyone else coming to dance.

The tension now broken, neither of them suggest leaving the dance floor.

;;

By the time the prom is ending, Sapnap’s feet hurt, and he’s sure his lips are red from the amount of times Dream has kissed him. They’re both giddy with teenage excitement, and Dream is singing a pathetic rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody,” words slurring together and pitch way off.

Sapnap laughs as Dream knocks their heads together, pushing him away with one hand while the other wraps around his waist to pull him closer. “You sound so bad.”

“You love it,” Dream murmurs into his ear, and Sapnap grins even as his cheeks flare red.

“You wish,” he replies.

“I most definitely wish,” Dream says, head now tilted to rest atop Sapnap’s own.

“Did you drink?” Sapnap asks, suspicious, though he’s pretty sure he and Dream only got water. “Are you drunk?”

“You know I’d never drink,” Dream replies before the most shit-eating grin takes over his face. “Actually, I’m just drunk on love.”

Sapnap rolls his eyes. “Now you’re just acting stupid.”

“But I mean it.”

Sapnap looks at him. Dream looks back. Sapnap shakes his head as they reach Dream’s car. “Don’t be dumb.”

“Okay, so maybe not like… love love, but I love you, Sapnap.” Dream leans against the door. “And it could turn into love love one day. If you let it.”

Sapnap stares at him. Dream stares back.

“It’s just a possibility,” he says, hand coming up to pat Sapnap’s cheek. Sapnap continues to stare until Dream leans forward to bump their noses together. “I won’t bring it up again.”

“Next month,” Sapnap finally replies. “Bring it up next month.” He pushes himself away from Dream to go to the passenger side. “Now unlock the car. It’s hot as fuck out here.”

;;

The car ride is spent in an easy silence, though Dream keeps glancing over at Sapnap every once in a while, always looking on the verge of saying something.

Finally, Sapnap snaps. “What is it?”

Dream has clearly been waiting to be asked. “You said next month.”

Sapnap frowns. “Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

“So we’ll still be together next month?”

Sapnap’s eyes narrow. “Are you assuming we’re together now?”

“Yes.”

Fuck. He’s right to assume that. So much for Dream being the one to forget their friendship in order to pursue a relationship. Dream knows him too well. (It’s perfect.)

“I love you too,” Sapnap says. “As a friend.” He looks out the window. “But it could be love love one day too.”

He doesn’t need to look over to know Dream is grinning, and when a finger brushes his own over the glovebox, not asking for permission but not not asking for permission, Sapnap can’t stop a grin of his own from spreading across his face and lets Dream lock their hands together.

;;

A knock on the door startles Sapnap in the middle of his studying. He looks up from his notes to see Dream leaning in the open doorway.

Sapnap raises a brow. “Since when have you knocked?”

“Since British exchange students started chewing me out whenever I’d come in without knocking.” Dream smiles at him before looking into the room, green eyes searching.

“George isn’t going to jump out at you from behind the door,” Sapnap says, stretching out in his chair before rising to properly greet his boyfriend. “Besides, he likes you; he’s just a bitch.”

“Of course a bitch like you would say that,” George interrupts, his small frame almost invisible behind Dream, who turns around with a guilty look on his face. “Hi, Dream,” George says, shoving past him to toss his bag in his desk chair and collapse onto his bed. “I don’t like you, by the way.” He lifts his head slightly to look between Dream and Sapnap. “Either of you. I hate you guys.”

“We hate you too,” Sapnap replies cheerily before grinning at Dream and pulling him down into a kiss that Dream eagerly returns.

“Can you not?” George asks, even though they all know he doesn’t really care. “I already feel single enough, thanks.”

“Like you could ever feel single,” Dream teases. “You know nearly everyone here is into you.”

George pushes himself up onto his elbows to stick out his tongue. Dream sticks his own out too.

Sapnap laughs before picking his keys up from off his desk and checking that his wallet is in his pocket. “We’re heading out,” he tells George, who hums and nods, flopping back onto the bed. “Let me know if you want us to pick you up dinner.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Sapnap,” George says, “to go out of your way just to get dinner for me. I didn’t realize I mean that much to you.”

“You mean the world to me, George,” Sapnap replies, even as his hand links with Dream’s and George flips him off. “But seriously, we’ll get you something if you want.”

“It’s fine.” George waves a hand. “Go be in love or whatever. Better somewhere else than where I can see it.”

“True, true,” Sapnap says, even though his favorite hobby nowadays is antagonize George, which sits right under spend time with Dream.

They leave the Brit alone to head out to Dream’s car, and it’s there that Sapnap finds them imitating the pose they had the night of prom. He hides his smile in Dream’s neck as Dream wraps his arms around his shoulders.

“Hey, Sap,” Dream says.

“Yeah?”

“Remember how you said ‘next month’?”

Sapnap lifts his head slightly to look through the car window. “Yeah.”

“Well, it’s been next month, and then it was the month after that, and the one after that, and then there was—”

Sapnap barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. “I love you, Dream. Now let go of me; I really am hungry right now.”

“Right, of course. Of course,” Dream releases him, “but for the record, I love you too. Like, love love.”

Sapnap shoves him even as a smile begins to show at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, I love love you too.”

#dreamnap #fic #fanfiction #mcyt

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

Note

Could we get something where billy gets “outed” about being with a male omega? since it’s Cali does it go okay or does it end up negatively affecting his job?? Your latest part got me wondering....

Part 41

Masterlist

There is BIG homophobia and various anti-LGBTQIA themes.

This jumps around the timeline

“I don’t think you should tell the people at work about me.”

Steve was sitting up in bed as Billy leaned against the doorway bathroom, brushing his teeth.

“Come again?” His mouth was all full of toothpaste.

Billy was going to be starting his internship tomorrow afternoon, was going to be heading right there after his morning class.

“I don’t think you should tell them all about me. I mean, you could tell them you have an omega and stuff. I mean, they’ll know from the bond mark, but I just. I don’t think you should actually tell them that I’m, a man.” Billy washed out his mouth, coming to join Steve in bed. He sat in front of them.

“Baby, I’m not ashamed of-”

“That’s not what I meant,” Steve spoke quickly. “You’re just gonna be around a whole bunch of alphas, and I don’t want them, giving you any shit, or treating you badly for any reason. Any reason you can’t control.”

“What do you want? I love everything about you, and you know I won’t bat an eye at telling them all about my husband.”

“I know, Bill, but that’s, I mean, that’s what I’m worried about. I mean, what if they fire you, just because of me. You’re so smart, and you work so hard, I don’t want this to hold you back.”

“Tell me what to so, Sweet Thing. This is your choice. I just don’t wanna hide the fact that I do have a family.”

“You don’t have to. Just keep it vague about me. Just call me your omega and don’t say my name or anything. I mean, talk about the girls all you want, just leave me out of it.”

“That just means I can’t bring you to company parties, or have your picture anywhere. If that’s what you want, I respect that, but Stevie, this can’t be my forever. I can’t spend my whole working life just, pretending you’re not you.”

“And I think this is a conversation we’ll need to revisit many times, but for right now, as you’re beginning this field as an intern, I think we need to do this. I want you to do this.” He reached up to tug on one of Billy’s curls. He had been growing it out again, but had Steve cut it a week ago when he heard back about the internship. “It doesn’t hurt my feelings that this is our reality. I’ve been a male omega my whole life. I know how it goes.”

Billy turned his head to kiss the palm of Steve’s hand.

“I’m sorry, Baby. I’m sorry you gotta live hidden like this. I’m so proud of our relationship.”

“Me too, Bill. But we can be proud together, with our girls and our family. But at work, just focus on you, and your career.”

It’s not that Billy hates his boss, it’s just that his boss is a douchebag alpha with a love of rigid gender roles and talking about tight omega pussy.

So really, Billy hates his boss.

He works at a desk right outside his big office, isn’t much more than a personal assistant, but it pays well enough that he and Steve could get a home, but after a year at the firm, his soul was fucking gone.

He was swaying in his chair, watching as the clock got closer and closer to the time he could leave, go home to his girls and his Steve for the weekend. They were going to have a beach day tomorrow.

He nearly sprinted out of the office at five, hauling ass to get back home.

Zara had turned a year old just last week, and she tottled up to him as he took off his coat, his suit jacket. He could hear Mina chattering away with Steve in the kitchen, could feel the tension melt outta his body as he smelled chicken pot pie, and the milky lavender smell of home.

“Mina Bea! Please hold your sister’s hand!” Steve was sitting on the towel, holding down the fort as Billy took the girls in the water. A year postpartum, and Steve finally felt comfortable enough to take off his shirt at the beach, made Billy’s eyes drift back over to him periodically.

They played in the water for a while, returning to Steve when Zara started getting grumpy to eat the picnic he had packed. Billy was wrapped around him, laughing as Mina relayed a story from her summer dance classes when Billy felt the hair on the back of his neck raise.

He whipped around, was expecting to see his father, the uneasy feeling in his gut making him feel like a teenager again.

“Bill? You okay?” And then Billy’s eyes locked on his boss, strolling across the boardwalk with his omega wife, their three preteen sons.

His heart sank.

Billy was fucking dreading Monday morning.

Steve was jittery nervous, had made a huge breakfast spread in an attempt to soothe his nerves.

Billy took the stairs to the sixth floor. He didn’t know if he was delaying the inevitable, delaying getting fucking fired.

“Good morning, Mr. Hargrove. You have a good weekend?” Billy didn’t know where the fuck he stood with his boss right now.

“It was very nice, thank you, Mr. Wolfram.”

“Enjoy the beach with your family?”

“Yessir. A perfect day for the beach.”

“Why did I picture you with a wife? I thought you said you had an omega.” Billy’s heart sank.

“I do, Mr. Wolfram. Steve is my omega. He’s my husband.”

“God, always wanted to meet an male omega. What’s he got?” Billy blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“What’s he got? A pussy?” Billy felt like cold water dripping down his spine.

“Why is that any of your business?” Wolfram rolled his eyes, chuckling at Billy.

“C’mon, Hargrove. Just between us guys. I always wondered about male omegas.”

“I still don’t see why it’s your business.”

“Just yes or no. I heard guy omegas have really good pussies. But I heard they have cocks too. I don’t know how you deal with that. Is it big?” Billy was regulating his breathing, going through the exercises the therapist he sees every Wednesday during his lunch hour had given him.

“Mr. Wolfram, I do not want to discuss this with you. This is my husband you’re speaking so disgustingly about.”

“Christ, Hargrove. Don’t be so uptight.”

“I find it incredibly disrespectful that you’re asking these questions.” His chest was heaving. His mind was racing Bill, he’s not worth it. Don’t hit him, don’t throw away your career like that. Billy doesn’t know when the voice of reason in his brain became Steve’s voice, just clutched to it.

“It’s just a little talk between alphas.”

“I don’t like to discuss private matters about my husband. Please stop asking me about his genitals.” He turned on his heel out of the office, stalking back to his own little desk.

He supposes he got off easy, didn’t get immediately fired, and was proud of himself for exercising so much self control.

The day passed as usual until he was returning to his desk from running a file down to the third floor.

He found a neat paper on his desk, a memo from the HR department, a memo informing him of the immediate termination of his position.

Don’t cause a scene, Bill. Just go home. We’ll figure it out. We always do.

He packed his desk quietly, avoiding eye contact with the other employees. There is no doubt in his mind news of his marital situation had spread through the firm.

He left with his head held high, waiting until he got in his car to punch at the steering wheel, to scream and rage and be fucking angry.

The house was empty when he arrived. He collapsed, face down into his bed, settling on Steve’s side, breathing him in.

“Bill? Why are you home? Is everything okay?” Steve was trailing a few delicate fingers down his spine. Billy didn’t know when he had fallen asleep.

“I’m sorry, Stevie.”

“Bill, Baby, you’re scaring me.” Billy rolled over, found Steve, biting his lip, his eyes big and shining.

“I lost my job.” Saying it out loud made Billy feel like shit, made him feel so fucking pathetic.

But Steve’s lip trembled, and his scent went haywire, and Billy moved to tug him onto the bed.

“Because of me? Because he saw us?”

“I really, I don’t know, Baby. I don’t know if that’s why, or, or because he kept, he kept asking me these questions, like kept asking if you have a pussy, and how he’d heard male omegas had a cock too, and if it was big, and I told him I was uncomfortable discussing that with him, and I don’t know if he let me go because of that, I really don’t.”

“But, either way, it’s because of me. Because of what I am.”

“No, Honey. It’s because he’s an asshole, that wouldn’t know a boundary if it bit him in the ass.” He pushed Steve back to wipe at the big teals in his eyes. “C’mon, what do we always say?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“And we will! I can go back to the garage, and look for other firms. We’ll make it happen.” Steve took a deep breath.

“We’ll figure it out.” He pressed a wet kiss to Billy’s head, settling back on top of him.

#one day im gonna fix this timeline #mango #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble #harringrove abo #omega steve harrington #alpha billy hargrove #mpreg

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dreams-of-wings · 5 years

Text

Impossible (6/8)

Imagine Billy Hargrove with a Mixed Race/Biracial S/O

Warnings: Racism, swearing, homophobia, homophobic slurs, mild violence, you throw hands a lot, angst.

Masterlist

You stay blocking the window sill for a bit cuz you enjoy seeing him squirm.

Honestly, he is bad at this whole climbing thing and he's struggling to not fall on his ass.

You finally let him in after he almost falls.

You're laughing your ass off while he's climbing through your window and simultaneously having a heart attack.

"It would have been less of a hassle if you used the door."

"I didn't think your parents would be happy if someome like me came knocking on their door asking for you."

You raise a brow at this, someone like him?

After a minute it occurs to you.

"Oh you mean a violent, racist, douchbag, with a reputation that surpasses the devil?"

He frowns.

Contrary to popular belief, Billy Hargrove is very self aware, and very self conscious about himself, his actions, and his self worth.

He doesn't like being an asshole but it's all he knows.

He low-key is afraid of growing up to be like his father.

Even though he has that nagging voice in the back of his mind that's telling him he's already as bad as his dad, if not worse.

He hides it all under a mask of confidence, booze, and cigarettes.

It still doesn't make his actions okay.

You snap him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"I said my parents are out of town."

Now that he's in your room you noticed that Billy looked shaken up.

Billy Fucking Hargove, for once didn't have a scratch on him, but he looked like hell.

You question him.

It takes a while but he finally answers.

His dad got pissed at him because Max wasn't home, and he came hoping she would be here so he could drag her home.

You convince him to let you come along, because he is pissed and you know how he can get.

He caves and lets you tag along.

The next stop was Lucas' House.

Neither Max nore her son were there, but she said the kids all loved to go to Mike's house to play games.

Next stop is the Wheelers residence.

You dont know what's being said between Mrs. Wheeler and Billy, but knowing Billy and being able to read his body language- well. It takes everything in you to refrain from rolling your eyes and honking his horn (though you fail at not rolling your eyes).

I mean come on you guys are looking for Max, this is not the time to be flirting.

Fuck he went in.

You audibly groan and contemplate jacking his car to go look for his sister yourself, unfortunately he has the keys and you dont know how to hotwire a car.

Finally, he's out.

You forgive him because he comes out with a cookie in his mouth and has another one in his hand, which he gives to you.

"Hell, yes!!"

What?

Who the hell turns down food? And cookies at that. Home made cookies. And they're fresh.

Last stop was the the Byers house.

Fuck, Steve is there.

"Stay in the car."

"What? No!" Like hell you were going to let him beat up your friend.

"Stay in the fucking car!"

Steve seems both angry and hurt when he notices that you're in Billy's car.

You can't really hear what's being said, it's all muffled.

You panic a bit when Billy shoved Steve and you worry they'll start fighting.

"Shit!"

You burst out the car when you see Billy storming for the door, but stop to help Steve.

"Why the hell are you driving around with him?"

"He came to my place first, looking for Max and I offered to help him. What'd you say to piss him off?"

Steve gets mad, thinking your taking his side, and for the second time that night you find yourself rolling your eyes. "Why did you tell him you didn't know her? I tutor Max and her friends, and you babysit her friends, and you and I hang out, of course you would know her?"

You both stop arguing when you here a loud crash from inside the house.

"Damn it!" "Shit!"

You both walk in just in time to hear Billy threaten Lucas.

Fucking excuse you, Billy???

Steve decks him across the face, Billy taunts him, and this time an actual fight breaks out.

You try your best to get them both to stop fighting, but neither of them will listen to you, the voice of reason.

When Billy has Steve pinned to the floor and keeps punching him over and over again you finally get physical.

You tackle Billy off him while he's oblivious to his surroundings and use your hands and knees to pin his arms to the ground.

"What the fuck is your problem, Billy?!"

You've never seen him look at you so angrily, probably because he feels a bit betrayed.

He somehow manages to roll you both over so now your stuck underneath him.

You flinch when he draws his fist back like he's going to hit you, but the next thing you know- there's a syringe sticking out the side of his neck.

"Holy shit!"

He gets up to go after Max, but promptly falls.

Your a bit shocked by Max's outburst.

Now her, you have never seen that angry before.

When they leave, you stay behind to look after Billy and move him to couch

He isn't happy when he wakes up.

He's actually really fucking pissed.

But he's still a little groggy from sleep and the drug (mostly the drug) so it's funny.

Help this child, he thought he was getting off the couch normally, but turns out he just rolled off and onto the floor face first.

Your freaking out and laughing all at once.

Slurred, "What the fuck's so funny?!?"

He needs aspirin and water like a hangover.

He falls asleep again after you get him back onto the couch, and you fall asleep on the floor propped up against the couch in a sitting position.

You don't wake up till the kids get back (Max wakes you up).

The both of you manage to get Billy to his car. He still asleep like a log.

You go to your place, and they spend the night - Max was worried their dad would be even more angry if they woke him up, and even more so if he caught you helping Billy and Max into the house.

The next morning was very #Domestic.

With You waking up to find Max already up and looking through your cabinets for food.

Suprise, you end up making breakfast for everyone!

Max wanted chocolate chip pancakes, so chocolate chip pancakes she shall get.

No suprise, Billy wakes up while you both are making the sausages and bacon.

Full plate of eggs, bacon and sausage, and pancakes for everyone! Yay! 😀

Honestly the best morning the two of them have had for a while, but you won't catch either of them saying that outloud.

Max leaves to hang out with the others.

Billy still seems mad about the previous night.

"What, are you going to pout all morning? All day?"

"I dont pout."

"Oh I'm sorry, what would you prefer to call it- sulking? Brooding? Plotting my death?"

He tries to hide a snicker and lightly shoves you.

Going back to school the following Monday felt weird after everything that happened over the weekend.

You tried asking Steve what was up with all the drawings in Will's house, but he wouldn't budge.

Of course you tried asking Nancy and Jonathan too, but they acted like they didn't know anything.

The next few weeks were full of practice tests and prep assignments for finals.

You saw Billy less and less because you were hitting the books.

Sure he knew you were probably in the library, but after that weekend he wasn't sure how to go about interacting with you, or if he should do so anymore at all.

He kinda feels like you picked Steve over him.

He pops buy on Wednesday and almost gives you a heart attack. He's not surprised that you've been working yourself ragged, and your not surprised he hasn't even touched a text book (let's be honest, Billy doesn't strike me at the type of person to take notes in class, just pull out a pencil and paper to look like he's interested and go about his day).

Your freaking out, because finals but he doesn't flinch because you're like the smartest person he knows.

"Oh c'mon," he's managed to take your precious notes away, "You'll be fine, you're only stressing yourself out."

"Billy, I need those!"

"No you don't," He starts acting like he's reading the notes outloud, but he's getting the facts and formulas all wrong.

You correct him several times, and have actually started to chase him around the library.

Finally he closes the book after your sure you must have chased him around at least twice, "See, I told you. You don't need to study, you know this shit."

You both got kicked out of the library, again.

Billy is banned, but the librarian gives you one last chance...starting tomorrow.

You sigh in defeat, "Alright you proved your point, now give me my notebook back."

You reach for it.

"Nah," He raises it above his head so you can't reach it. Asshole.

Tommy and Carol show up and they think he's picking on you.

Neither of you sees them.

Tommy manages to snag the notebook, gives you an obnoxious laugh when you reach for it, and tosses it to Carol

"Give it back, shit face," Your mood went from playful to pissed in point zero seconds.

"What are you going to do about it, Heinz?"

Lord help you, you're about to throw hands again.

Billy snatches the book back and hands it to you, before looking at Tommy and Carol with a very stern expression.

"You idiots got anything better to do, huh?" He takes a few steps towards Tommy and for every step he takes, Tommy backs away.

Carol is distracted, which allows you to snatch your notebook back. She reaches for it again but you slap her hand away.

The message was very clear for them, so they take their leave and retreat back to wherever they came from.

Billy has lunch with you and manages to get you to skip the rest of school with him.

You don't want to miss during dead week, but the whole fiasco during your study period in the Library got you thinking- you need a break.

You also don't want the absent strike.

"You're such a goodie-two-shoes."

Peer pressure sucks.

You convince him to give you 30 minutes after the late bell rings to show up.

You go to class, set up your desk, the late bell rings, teacher calls role and marks you present. 7 minutes have passed.

You feign being ill.

It really wasn't hard. You just acted more tired than normal, threw in a couple "I have to stop what I'm doing because I have a headache," gestures. You even put your head down for a minute. You sit in the front so your body language is easy to pick up on and the teacher allows you to go to the nurses office when you ask. 12 minutes have passed.

When you get to the nurses office you throw the pass on the desk and storm into the private bathroom - closing the door behind you, before forcing yourself to dry heave. 27 minutes have passed.

You convince the nurse that it must be something you ate that's making you sick.

She gives you a pass and let's your teachers know you're sick and have gone home.

You meet Billy outside the school 30 minutes on the dot, he's surprised you actually came, and even more surprised that you lied well enough to get the teachers to excuse you for the rest of the day.

Of course you're upset when you see Tommy and Carol in the back seat, but you just roll your eyes and brush it off before climbing in shot gun.

Tommy and Carol are mocking you before you even get in.

"We didn't know the, mutt was coming along."

"How nice of you to bring something to entertain us, Billy."

Your looking at Billy through the corner of your eyes as he starts the car.

He waves you off, "Dont mind them."

You have no idea where you're going, or how long it will take so you pull out a book to read.

Before you can even open it, Carol snatches it from you, "What's the Nerd reading?!"

You roll your eyes again.

Tommy snatches it from the red head, "Stephan King. Christine."

"What's it?" Carol pipes up again, "Sappy romance novel?!"

"Wow, you both are actually uncultured, " you snatch the book away from Tommmy, "I'm impressed," and keep it out of his reach by out stretching your arm towards the dash, "Did it take all three of your brain cells to read that?"

Tommy tries to get his hands on you now, but you smack them away.

"Alright, alright!"

The three of you look surprised at Billy, "If you two don't quit your shit," he looks to the rearview mirror, "I'm kicking you out."

The rest of your ride was uneventful.

You arrive at Tommy's house.

His parents are also out of town.

But he lives in a large house with a pool and bar.

They're having an end of the year party and whoops you got dragged along.

You hadn't planned to be doing this with your time so you resort to studying more, much to Billy's behest, and Tommy and Carol's attempts to distract you.

You sit outside on a lawn chair next to the pool while they get everything prepped for the night.

Not much happens till it starts turning dark out, Billy calls you for help with something and when you leave you don't notice Carol and Tommy going for your stuff.

You can imagine your suprise when you find you stuff had been emptied into the pool.

Notebooks, text books, pencils, pens, erasers, even the book you were trying to read on the way.

You look up when you hear Carol laughing as she rounds the pool in your direction, and you see Tommy throw your bag in the pool.

"Are you fucking serious? What are you twelve?!"

Before you can react, Carol shoves you into the pool.

"And that's how you get a book worm to swim!"

You somehow manage to keep your cool, gathering your stuff and putting them on the edge of the pool away from Tommy and Carol. Though you didn't know why you bother, you can tell the ink is smeared and the pencil is faded now, only thing possibly salvageable was your pencils and your reading book, but even that was debatable.

You climb out and sit at the edge.

You feel physically uncomfortable

Your clothing is sticking to you.

And it's basically summer already so the air is hot and a little damp. You look up to see Billy storming out of the house.

"What the hell is going on?!"

"Relax, Billy, we were all just having a little fun, right?" Tommy looks at you like you're afraid of him so you're going to agree with him.

Yeah, no.

"Fuck off," you chuck your biggest text book at him.

None of them knew how well a text book could fly till it hits Tommy in the gut.

Go you! Bonus points for nailing him with the corner.

Your trying to wring the bottom of your clothes out when Tommy comes up from behind you and tries to grab you by the back of your head.

"Hey!" Billy is quickly making his way over to the both of you.

Carol tries to stop him, but she is poetically shoved to the side and subsequently falls into the pool.

You manage to elbow Tommy in the balls but the pain only makes him hold on harder.

"You little-"

He doesn't get to finish because he's promptly punched in the side of the face. You quickly back away from the edge incase Carol gets anymore funny ideas.

Billy helps you up and ushers you into the house.

"Sorry..." He sounds awkward, "About them."

You look at him with a deadpan expression, "Billy Hargrove, apologizing," you sigh with attitude, "pinch me. I must be dreaming."

He grits his jaw, "Don't you start being a smart ass with me- it's them who keep giving you crap!" He started raising his voice.

"Yeah, yet you still keep them around," you make your way over to the sink to keep wringing out your shirt and shoulder check him on the way, "Honestly, I don't even know why you keep them around- at least you have your reasons for being an asshole." You take off your shirt -much to Billy's suprise- so you can properly get rid of the water. Let's face it, a soaked shirt sticking to you like a second skin doesn't leave much to the imagination anyways, "Reasons," you turn to look at him for emphasis, "Not excuses," you turn back to the sink, "but understandable reasons nonetheless." You lay your shirt out flat on the kitchen's large counter to air dry (it's too dark and humid outside for it to dry any better outside anyways), "But they're just assholes because....because...." You sputter and shake your head, "I don't know, probably because they know they won't ever amount to anything better in their lives, so they figure they might as well tear down as many people as they can on their way to fucking nowhere."

You turn and look at him with an aggravated huff and cross your arms. Unfortunately Carol and Tommy walk in at that moment.

"You trashy mutt!"

"Stupid whore!"

"You really think, Billy's that desprit?!"

For a second you were confused. Then you remembered you didn't have a shirt on.

You roll your eyes again before throwing your still wet shirt back on.

"And what the hell Billy?! You really gonna' side with this half-breed?!"

Fuck this.

Fuck Carol.

Fuck Tommy.

And you know what? If this doesn't change, fuck Billy too. You dont need or deserve this.

You storm out the back door, gathering your things and shoving them in your dripping bag before walking around the side towards the front. Billy quickly runs out the front door to meet you outside.

"I'll take you home."

"No."

Billy calls your name and he almost sounds tired.

His tone is what makes you pause and turn around.

"Please."

You raise a brow and swallow your pride as well as your snarky comments, "Fine."

The party commences and goes on without the both of you.

Billy isn't quite sure what he enjoys more, being out and partying or enjoying a relaxing evening indoors, heavens knows he can't relax at home.

Max surprises the both of you by stopping by to visit.

The three of you hang out in your living room flipping through channels and eating popcorn.

Billy eats the least pop corn out off the three of you and opted to have some carrots and grapes less than half way through the first movie.

Billy is totally a health buff.

"Are Carol and Tommy really that bad?" Max mistakenly asked about your day.

"They have absolutely no redeeming qualities."

Max doesn't hide how she shoots a glance at her brother, 'And that fool does?' Is basically what her expression asked.

Billy glares at her from the couch opposite to hers and bites a carrot like it's her head.

You're covering your laughter with your hand.

From now on all my Imagines will be tagged by their titles, series, and parts! Hopefully this will make it easier to find a specific imagine if your looking for it. For example, anything relating to this series is tagged with "impossible", the series itself is tagged as "impossible series" and each individual part is tagged as "impossible pt.[1/2/3/etc.]"

Another example: part one is tagged as "impossible pt.1"

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somekindofgutterrat · 5 years

Text

Hey kids are you ready for my monthly depression rant until I can afford a proper therapist? No? Great

So update from the last one, I ditched those cunts and now I have new friends so that’s all good BUT my mental health is back in the shitter

I’m pretty sure I mentioned last time I was off school for 2 months because my anxiety was crippling? Yeah guess what’s back. I haven’t gone to school in 2 weeks which I’m panicking bcus like what if I can’t get back in. It’s 2am and I should be asleep because I’m meant to go to school in the morning but like I’m having 800 mental breakdowns and panic attacks. I can’t do school tomorrow and my mum said it’s fine and so did my doctor but I still feel like I’m letting everyone down. And I know the sooner I go back to school the better. I stopped going to school again because my teachers assumed that because I’d been back for a while I was ok and my triggers were gone. No obviously not so I kept getting called on in class which caused panic attacks. So I went to office area thing to ask to go home because like walls closing in, felt like I was dying. They said no which if you read my last rant is the biggest trigger (being trapped) and I also had the flu so like I was ill and it was all shit. This happened a few more times but I didn’t let it phase me. Until my maths teacher got angry, he was yelling at the entire class, slamming desks and shit. Which isn’t necessarily bad for most people except that’s exactly what my abusive father did all my life up until mere 2 1/2 years ago. So uhh instant triggers and flashbacks. Almost had a panic attack but I held it in. Until I got home and had a massive mental breakdown YEET

And uhhhh that’s not even the biggest thing. My father obviously doesn’t live with me because ya know he was a piece of shit (but he’s getting better, he still trying to fix his homophobia and racism, I made him buy me Bianca tickets and that made him a lil uncomfortable but If he wants to get better he gotta deal with it). My siblings are all in their 20s so they’ve moved out, and are either married with jobs and houses or in uni. So that leave just me and my mum right? No. She has a really high paying and good job that she loved like 300 miles away and she’s been working there for like 17 years so she doesn’t want to quit obviously. So she travels there every Monday and back every Thursday. This used to be fine when I lived with my dad because he’d look after me. But when we stopped seeing him it still wasn’t a problem because my sister was still at school so she looked after me. But in September she went to uni leaving me. Just me. I’m 15 years old and I live alone. Now obviously that would be illegal so every night I sleep at my neighbours house making it legal because I have an adult with me over night. But shit when I tell you this gets lonely. I cry on the daily about this bull. Like I’ve never felt something as painful as this. My best friend dating the only person I ever liked and had liked for 4 years and he even liked me back and then having to go on holiday with them? It was nothing in comparison to how lonely I feel, day in day out. My mum could take a job here but it wouldn’t pay nearly as high and she doesn’t have a degree so she can’t get into a good job very easily. Meaning we’d have to rent an even smaller home (and this place it tiny) and I’d have to give up my pets but I couldn’t, they’re my world. We’d just about be able to eat. Which yes is much better than some people’s situations.

I just don’t know how long I can go on like this, my mum keeps saying the loneliness will get better but each week it just gets more and more painful. Ik I sound like a privileged little white girl but I gotta let this stuff out. I tried writing it on my notes just to get it out but it still felt pent up? So idk I just need to release it into the wilds of tumblr. Well done if you made it this far, have a sticker. Sorry for being super depressing YEET

#life updates that nobody cares for #fuck im so loney

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takealottodragmeawayfromreddie · 6 years

Text

Whatever floats your boat - Chapter 2

Summary: When they were fourteen years old, Richie climbed through Eddie’s window with the excuse of having another secret sleepover and they had the longest conversation in their friendship history instead. He got tangled in what he was trying to say a million times, went forwards and backwards in his explanations too much and even cried a bit. But at the end, it was clear, and Eddie understood

At the age of fourteen, Richie Tozier was impossibly aware of the fact he was gay. Then, why did he start dating a girl when he turned seventeen? And why was Eddie so mad about it?

Prologue, Chapter 1

Warnings: Internalized homophobia, referenced sexual abuse, referenced underage oral sex.

AO3 LINK

Proofread by the amazing @aizeninlefox

Chapter 2

Derry, Maine; 1994.

In their last year of high school, Richie started dating someone. It surprised a lot of people, but not Eddie. He knew it wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.

A year ago, Richie went to a summer camp that would help him to improve his grades and capacity of learning. His parents decided to send him when they found out he wasn’t doing well in school anymore, and not even remedial classes would fix the situation.

Richie, of course, hated that solution. He spent his last days of freedom complaining about it, responding to everything with insults and rejecting any kind of condolence for his lost vacations.

But the funny thing was that when he came back he didn’t seem angry at all. In fact, he looked satisfied with the turn things had taken. The Losers interrogated him about it, and he just shrugged and said there were some hot girls and all of the campers went to swim together in a lake when it was free time. The only one who knew the true explanation for his joy was Eddie.

For the first time in years, Richie snuck into his room at night to have a private chat. Eddie immediately got stiff, fearing the worst. Richie’s gladness should have been a good indication, but it was two in the morning and he was too sleepy and nervous to understand.

“Okay, Eds, I know this is all so disgusting and traumatic for you, but I got to tell someone,” Richie’s voice sounded fast and excited as he walked around the room, incapable of sitting down.

“Can’t it wait?” Eddie drowsily asked, rubbing his eye.

“Hell, no. I went to Bev first and she told me to go to sleep.”

“Bev is a wise woman, you should listen to her,” He muttered, getting into bed again and pulling the blanket over his body, including his head.

“Come on, Eds, don’t you wanna hear about my summer romance?”

Eddie exhaled a bitter laugh.

“You? Romance? One of those girls who swam in the lake, I guess.”

“Nah, a super-hot guy.”

That was all it took for Eddie to get out of his cave of sheets. At the mere sound of the words, he quickly sat up and looked at him with a death stare.

“What the fuck?”

Richie’s chest inflated with pride.

“Yep,” He confirmed, casually exanimating his nails, “A super-hot guy who was basically begging for my—”

“And you were planning to tell Bev?!” Eddie snapped, doing nothing to hide his angriness, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

All the arrogance in Richie vanished. Now he looked confused and vaguely embarrassed.

“She’s…” He started, his voice fighting for leaving his throat, “She’s my friend, Eddie.”

“And what about me? I’m not your friend? I don’t have any say about… this?”

He left bed again and walked towards Richie, whose eyes were opened wide in complete confusion. It almost hurt seeing him taking a step back when they were face to face, as he was scared of Eddie injuring him.

“This is not some silly game, Richie. This is not something you wear in your forehead like it’s something you’re… proud about. It’s your future, your health, your whole life.”

“I can trust Bev.”

“You can’t trust her about everything. In fact, you shouldn’t trust anyone about this. Not even me.”

Richie looked in the verge of tears for a few seconds. A brief tremble of his lower lip wouldn’t let him pretend he didn’t care, like he always did. But nothing happened. He just stared into Eddie’s eyes like he did the Monday after the college party, thickened his skin and acted.

“You’re right,” Now his voice was more like the straight line in a monitor that announces the death of a patient, “I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

Then, he started walking to the open window, so decisive Eddie thought nothing could stop him. However, he did stop at the last minute.

“And for your information,” He said, turning back in Eddie’s direction, “I wasn’t going to tell Bev it was a guy. Don’t worry, no one knows your best friend is a faggot.”

After that, he initiated his already dominated descent through Eddie’s house façade.

“Wait!” Eddie called out, trying to not being too loud, sticking his head through the window, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Richie ignored him.

“Come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that!”

“No, Eds,” Richie finally answered, looking up at him, “I don’t know. Fuck you.”

Eddie felt panic getting its way into his chest.

“I’m sorry, Richie! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be an asshole. Please, come back. Please tell me about that… super-hot guy.”

“You don’t wanna hear it, trust me,” He said, getting his feet on the ground and walking towards his bike, “We spent the whole summer sucking each other’s dick.”

Eddie choked, trying to resist the urgency of puking. Richie left.

Even if their first try to openly talk about Richie’s romantic life failed, Eddie got the chance to properly apologize and Richie, in a less emotional mental state, paid the incident no mind and agreed to talk about it when they got to meet without the rest of the Losers.

It turned out it wasn’t as simple as a ‘whole summer sucking each other’s dick’. The super-hot guy had a name and Richie found himself repeating it a lot more than necessary. He couldn’t disguise that little glitter in his eyes every time he mentioned it.

“So, his name was Jake and he wasn’t just hot.”

“He wasn’t?”

“No, I mean, yeah, he was hot. But he was also super funny. Like, the funniest dude I ever met? I know it’s hard to imagine a guy who’s funnier than me, but…”

“I can imagine it.”

“Mean.”

“Go on.”

“Right. And he was tall. He said he was in the basketball team of his school and his mother sent him to the camp ‘cause his grades sucked and the coach was going to kick him out if they didn’t get better.”

Richie went on and on about Jake and how much they kissed every time they could be all alone. And what an amazing kisser he was. And he gave the best blowjobs in the world. And you don’t know how Heaven looks like until Jake Parker gets his hand inside your pants.

“Will you ever see him again?” Eddie asked when he was done. It wasn’t the kind of question a good friend dreamily brings up when you meet someone new, but a nasty challenge to look at him in the eye and say his little summer fling meant something for the other guy, too.

“He told me he’d call me when he got home,” Richie said, not very convinced, “He’s from Portland, so…”

Eddie felt guilty for seeding that doubt on his mind.

“It’s been two weeks, Rich,” He gently commented, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Richie nodded.

“I know.”

Of course he knew. He wasn’t stupid. And Eddie wasn’t stupid, either. All he could do was keep rubbing comforting circles into his friend’s shoulder and respecting his silence.

Jake never called back.

Although it didn’t end well, none of them could deny it was serious. Before that, Eddie couldn’t imagine Richie actually liking someone. He wasn’t exactly the kind of person who would give up his eternal childhood to satisfy all the expectative of a formal relationship. Sure, he was capable of wanting —his whole summer was about oral sex, anyway—, but the deep desire of being with someone didn’t seem like something he could feel.

Jake proved Eddie wrong. Richie had feelings just like anyone. The kind of feelings you would expect from any teenager. Eddie realized he never stopped seeing Richie as the sarcastic, dirty kid he grew up with. He also found out that hearing him talking about how he wanted to get into somebody’s pants, didn’t feel as shocking and wrong as picturing him wanting to wrap his arms around a waist from behind and resting his chin on a shoulder.

What was Richie’s type, anyway? Did he really had a type? What made Jake different from all the boys he had met in his life? How could Richie like someone who was funnier than him? Wouldn’t he feel humiliated? Or was it all because Jake was tall? Did Richie like basketball players? If Richie met another guy who was funny and tall and a good kisser, would he fall again?

Eddie didn’t mean to ask himself all of these questions, but he couldn’t help but think about them every time he tried to close his eyes and sleep. The only conclusion he got from all this wondering was that Richie’s type was a guy. Simple as that. That was the secret.

So Richie dating someone a year after wouldn’t be that alarming. Except for the fact that that someone was a girl.

Nobody knew when it started. Richie was very private about it and not even Beverly was aware of his relationship. But most of them noticed weird things before it was made public.

The first signal was when they were standing in the line of the cafeteria and a group of girls stopped behind them. At the start, they didn’t paid them no mind, but after a short time, they heard them giggling.

Although it was obvious they were trying to hide their amusement, they weren’t doing a good job and soon their voices turned into a choir of hysterical and poorly controlled laughs.

“There,” One of them whispered, “The one in glasses.”

“Oh, my God,” Another one giggled.

“Shut up, you idiots,” Said a third girl, even if she was taking part of the fun.

Eddie felt his blood burning. It wasn’t unusual for them being the brunt of constant jokes, but there wasn’t anything subtle about the way those girls were acting. For all he knew, they may very well be sharing those stupid rumors about Richie and Bev, and they didn’t care about respect enough for trying to be more discrete.

All of the Losers noticed too. Mike turned around and gave them a serious, but yet sympathetic look.

“You need something?” He asked.

The girls stared between the others and giggled again. The taller one dared to answer.

“No, we’re fine, thank you.”

Mike solemnly nodded and took his tray, ready to go and find a table. Now Richie was closer to the group, too focused on choosing his dessert for notice the way he seemed to be the topic of their conversation.

Eddie quietly observed how one of the girls pointed at Richie, while her gaze travelled to the opposite side of the room. To a particular table. She smiled and winked, as her friends kept laughing.

He tried to see who was the receiving of the comment, but his short stature and how the cafeteria was full of people and the line was moving didn’t allow him to find out.

“Eds,” Richie, who had already made his decision, was standing a few feet away with his tray and an impatient look, “Are you gonna stand there the whole lunch or what?”

Eddie looked at the girls again. Now they looked serious and quiet, like they didn’t even know each other. He turned back to Richie.

“Shut the fuck up,” He said, taking his own tray and hurrying to follow him.

It happened again a few times. Those girls couldn’t be around them without whispering that secret joke that had something to do with Richie. And it soon extended to a couple of people who haven’t even noticed his existence before.

A certain day, it reached an unexpected height when the Losers were standing next to Ben’s locker, waiting for him to get all of his books, and one of these out-of-nowhere laughers and her friends walked besides them and stared directly at Richie.

“Hi, Romeo,” She casually said, gaining more giggles and even some ‘oh, my God, you really said that’ from the rest of the group.

“What was that?” Stan frowned in confusion once they had left.

Everybody turned at Richie, silently interrogating him. He limited to shrug.

“How am I supposed to know?” He replied, glowering, “Maybe they just find me that hot.”

He shrugged again. They were planning to keep digging for an actual answer, but Ben got the rest of his books just in time and they didn’t have any option but to head to their classrooms.

Eddie told himself to forget about the whole thing. Even though he knew it was stupid, he couldn’t stop turning it over in his head. Definitely, those girls didn’t want Richie. There wasn’t any flirting intention to the way they talked to him. It was more like a mockery. But why would they do that? Richie wasn’t attractive at all and that never been a secret. Why would they wait so long for start making fun of him for not having dates?

The answer came sooner than later. As he walked to his classroom, he realized Richie and Bev were going in the same direction, just a few steps behind. And they were talking.

“Are you sure that’s it?” She said, a knowing smile audible in her tone.

“Yeah, why not? It’s a very natural reaction,” He responded.

Beverly stayed quiet for a few seconds.

“Fuck, what is this? The Holy Inquisition? I don’t know!” Richie kept defending himself.

“Oh, well, I thought you may have an idea…”

“What are you implying?”

“You see, I saw the most interesting thing today…” Her voice revealed pure evilness.

“And what was that?” Richie sounded plainly exasperated at this point.

Beverly took her time to let air fill her lungs before exhaling the magic spell.

“Fran Cobb.”

Eddie got tense at the mention of the name, and he could feel Richie also got tense behind him. He didn’t recognize who Fran Cobb was, but such a powerful energy emerged from the only implication of her existence that he felt immediately overwhelmed by it.

He suddenly understood how private this conversation was, how full of meaning it was getting, and he realized he shouldn’t be listening. But he couldn’t un-hear it. He just couldn’t. He had to know what was so interesting, so important about that mysterious presence in Richie’s life. So he slowed his steps down just enough to get closer to his friends without them noticing it.

“What about her?” Richie questioned.

Yeah, Eddie thought. What about her?

“Nothing special,” Bev continued, “I just sat behind her at Biology today and, I could almost swear, she was wearing an… oversized Hawaiian shirt?”

Eddie heard Richie gulping.

“A woman with good taste,” He casually replied.

“That’s what I thought,” Beverly chuckled, “By the way, where’s your shirt?”

“I didn’t wear a shirt today.”

“Richard…”

“What?”

“Nothing,” She sighed, carefree, “Romeo.”

Then, she speed her walking up and passed by Eddie’s side, giving him a side smile. He hurried to pretend he was tying his shoes and barely reached to see Richie half-running and half-waddling to follow his best friend, ignoring him and mumbling excuses for the fact that Fran Cobb, whoever she was, was indeed wearing his shirt.

Richie didn’t say a word until two weeks later. Two weeks full of cancelled plans of hanging out or doing something together, coming up with lots of explanations that seemed to get more and more ridiculous as they days passed by. Two weeks of the question of ‘what were you doing the other day?’ going vaguely answered or practically ignored. Two weeks of getting extra suspicious every time Bill talked about Audra, the girl he was dating.

But it all had to come to an end and, when it happened, it wasn’t Eddie or Beverly who were informed first. For some reason, Richie decided to trust Ben about what was going on. Or, in better words, he had no other option.

Noticing how weird Richie was acting recently, Ben managed to meet him alone and have a heart-to-heart talk. He wasn’t pressuring him or forcing him to open up, he just wanted to make sure his friend was doing well, and it surprised him to find out Richie needed to be honest about the matter more than anything.

Nobody knew what was said in that conversation, but it proved to be very effective because, two days later, Richie sat at their habitual table at the cafeteria and formally announced it.

“So,” He started, pretending to be focused on his piece of chicken, “You know Fran Cobb?”

All of the Losers considered the name for a little while, except Eddie, who didn’t feel comfortable with thinking about it, and Bev, who looked ready to burst out laughing.

“I-isn’t she in th-the D-Drama Club?” Bill ventured to guess, “A-Audra had mentio-mentioned her a f-few times.”

“Yeah,” Richie confirmed, so quickly it was clear he was nervous, “Yeah, she is.”

“Cool, so, what about her?” Stan asked.

Richie left out a sigh, as he was preparing to speak in public for the first time in front a crowd of a thousand people.

“Well,” He started, “I mean, don’t get super… It’s no big deal, just…”

“They’re dating,” Bev interrupted, rolling her eyes.

Their friends stayed in silence, looking between the others in search of a hint this was a bizarre dream, as Richie’s face turned red. He almost dropped his fork and hurried to recover his hold of it before it fell.

“No,” He instantaneously said, “Not exactly. I mean, I don’t know, it’s not…” The confusion in everyone’s faces told him he needed to explain himself better, “Nobody said the word ‘dating’, we’re just… We haven’t fucked yet, but we do kiss and go out and…”

“ Date ,” Beverly whispered, like it was some kind of big epiphany.

“Is she deaf?” Stan joked.

“Fuck you, Stanley,” Richie bitterly answered.

“Well, as long as you’re happy, I’m happy for you,” Mike smiled.

“W-when will you intro-introduce us?” Bill enquired with kind curiosity.

“Shit, I don’t know, Big Bill,” His friend teased, “Like, she thinks I’m so cool and amazing and hot. What would she think if she knew I hang out with a bunch of losers?”

All of them laughed, even if Eddie didn’t find the joke that funny.

“Our little boy is growing up,” Bev said in a high-pitched voice, putting her arms around Richie and shaking him a bit.

“Sorry, Marsh,” He smirked, “I know you’re disappointed, but you’ll find a man for you someday,” He brought the fork to his lips and didn’t bother to swallow the food before adding, “Hanscom, for example, is still single.”

Now it was Ben’s time to blush, but the topic didn’t stay around enough for it to become a problem. Eddie imagined Richie and Ben talking about their crushes, about how stunning the girls they liked were, as they were best friends, as Ben had the right to know before anyone what was going on. As Richie was straight.

At the end, no one talked about meeting his girlfriend for a while. They just started excusing him when he couldn’t be with them and moved on. Eddie felt stupid for not being able to ignore it, like everybody else did.

His mother always said love could save almost anyone. She always talked about how beneficial finding a good wife could be for men who dealt with ‘deviations’. When he was a kid, every time he complained about people making fun of him for being too small or too weak, she would say the he’d grow up and find someone who allowed him to be normal, to be healthy . Of course she realized her mistake a few years later and changed to the ‘I’m the only person who loves you’ tactic, but Eddie knew what the truth was.

However, he felt inexplicably betrayed by Richie’s change of heart about his sexuality and how he was managing it. It wasn’t like he would have enjoyed listening, but at least an effort for talking to him about it first would have been appreciated. It felt almost like an insult that Richie wouldn’t mind to tell him about his blowjob summer with all the dirty details, and still he didn’t trust him enough to let him know he had a girlfriend.

After all the trouble they went through, after the 3:00 AM talks, even after the college party —as rude and hurtful it was to think about that right now—, finding out Richie was forgetting all of that just for a girl seemed unfair. Eddie couldn’t un-hear his sobs, Eddie couldn’t retire that hug when they were fourteen, Eddie couldn’t forget the gentle pressure of that college guy’s lips against his own, and he couldn’t forgive himself for not even remembering his name when he saved him from hell itself.

Richie was getting over everything. No matter how hard life hit him, he would always fall in his two feet, like a fucking, lucky cat . He didn’t have to face consequences, he didn’t have to take responsibilities for the choices he made. He could always take it all back and move on, and no one would ever say anything. Nobody cared. Eddie was the only one who did. Even Beverly was worried for just a few days after the party incident, when that was still everything Eddie could think about three years later.

He shouldn’t care about Richie. Richie didn’t need anyone to protect him. Everything was a reversible joke for him, an endless comedy show that went from one act to another burning the ones that stayed behind. The rest of the Losers knew, and Eddie had to learn it, too.

But he couldn’t. Not caring wasn’t in his nature. And, most of all, he felt curious. If it was true that the perfect girl could save the sickest man alive, he needed to know who could be the perfect girl for Richie. So he grabbed his yearbook, flipped through the pages until he was at the Drama Club part and started searching in the photographs.

The only faces he could recognize were Audra’s and the insufferable group of people who would giggle whenever they saw Richie. It was obvious they were Fran’s friends and they knew she was seeing him. Eddie frowned at the thought of Richie’s girlfriend divulging their relationship while he was clearly not ready to make it public.

The central picture showed the whole club sitting at the stands of the football camp, around the old, bohemian woman who was their teacher. Eddie quickly examined the list of names and it didn’t take him too long to find the name that still managed to make his stomach turn. Francine Cobb . She was sitting at the first row, only two seats away from the teacher.

He was nearly disappointed. She wasn’t ugly, not at all, but she also didn’t look like the kind of girl who would have Richie going crazy for her. Even though the blonde, wavy hair falling over the shoulders was considered attractive most of the time, hers looked grungy in a very Courtney Love-style that he didn’t find nice. Her pale face seemed too round and childish, even when her features weren’t unappealing, and her full lips felt like almost too much, just like Richie’s did.

In addition, her figure couldn’t decide between growing up into a woman’s body or stick to childhood. Respectable breasts raised under the dimer overall —‘typical cool kid clothes’, Eddie cynically thought—, but she didn’t have an actual, defined shape aside them. Her legs and arms seemed too long for the rest of her constitution and the way she sat, slightly arching her back, gave her a funny appearance.

If Eddie was confused before, he was definitely astonished now. The other pictures showed Fran as a very joyful person, always smiling in that open way that built winkles around her eyes, always throwing her head back when she laughed, always sitting in the floor with her legs crossed or taking the stage to make everyone cackle.

What did Richie see in her? He was so disgusted by girls like this when he was younger. Girls who worked so hard for being funny, and to fit in. Actually, he was disgusted by any kind of girl who wasn’t opening her legs in the centerfold of a dirty magazine. And those girl didn’t exist in the real world.

But there was Fran. The girl from the Drama Club. The girl who had hobbies and went to school with them. The girl who laughed out loud and showed emotions aside of pretending to be turned on by a camera. She had a name, a house in their town, and a personality. She was a complete human being. And she was Richie’s girlfriend.

Eddie felt sad for her and didn’t know why. He hoped Richie would never introduce them, because he knew that as soon as he was were face to face with her, he couldn’t hide it anymore. And he didn’t know what he was hiding, either. All he could tell was that he felt sad, disappointed.

He felt betrayed.

Taglist: @beepbeepbeleven @irl-tozier (please let me know if I forgot about someone or if someone else wants to be added)

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #fanfiction #it fanfiction #reddie fanfic #it (2017)#whatever floats your boat #my writing

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notthetoothfairy · 6 years

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KLAINE ADVENT 2017: LoveSick (12/24)

Summary: Kurt has SCID and can’t leave his house. Ever. Luckily, Blaine moves in next door.

A/N: A fic?!?!?! Yes, my dears, after what feels like an eternity, I finally wrote a new thing. I was going to do just one prompt for @klaineadventbut - ha ha ha, and ho ho ho - never mind, I’m writing an entire story. And I’m late. Sorry about that!

The plot is loosely based on “Everything Everything”. Saw it on the plane, didn’t end up liking it all that much but I loooved the premise for Klaine, so here it is. :D It’s not all that realistic, sorry about that, but I tried to make it as accurate as possible!

Beta: @a-simple-rainbow (who’s surprised? not us - we’re basically fandom wives)

Read: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

Read on: AO3 (to be added later)

Trigger warning for this chapter: bullying, homophobia

LIMITED

Blaine’s been floating on cloud 9 all weekend, trading flirty text messages with Kurt until way past both their bedtimes.

But there’s nothing like a Monday morning at McKinley to pull him down from his high. He hugs his notebook to his chest as he passes through the crowded hallway, trying to find his New Directions friends Tina and Sam.

Just as he turns the corner and spots Sam’s blond hair – Sam’s tall enough to be easy to see over everyone else – someone slams into him on the way.

“Watch where you’re going, gloser!” Karofsky yells, even though Blaine’s the one who landed on the floor. Karofsky, a jock twice his size and one of the main reasons Blaine hasn’t taken an interest in his school’s football team so far (even though Sam and Kurt’s brother Finn are on it), doesn’t have a scratch and is still standing. Well, slightly slouched as usual, but Blaine isn’t going to point out his terrible posture.

“Gloser, really?” Blaine mumbles. He doesn’t even want to know if it stands for “gay loser” or “glee loser”.

Blaine hasn’t officially come out or anything but he doesn’t hide the fact that he’s gay either. And as for Glee, it isn’t the most respected club in school but he has managed to avoid conflict with their tormenters so far. He’s been slushy-free, too, a fact that might change very soon, if Karofsky’s angry face is any indication.

Then his grimace turns into a smirk and Blaine’s heart skips a beat when he sees him picking up the notebook.

“That’s mine,” Blaine says quickly.

“No kidding!” Karofsky howls, and Azimio, his even dumber lackey, cackles like a hyena behind him. “Aw, the gloser has the hots for a guy called Kurt.” Karofsky frowns as he reads the first item on the list Cooper helped him with, and Blaine suppresses a groan. “What the fuck kinda fetishes are you fairies into? What’s with all the windows?!”

Karofsky shudders, and Blaine seizes the moment to snatch the notebook out of his hands and gets up as quickly as possible. His options are limited as it is if he doesn’t want half the football team ganging up on him, and he’s going to be pretty much dead meat if he stays on the floor a second longer. Azimio already looks like he is going to kill him.

“Better than your letterman jacket fetish,” he can’t help but shoot back. “When’s the last time you washed that smelly thing, first day of freshman year?”

He doesn’t wait to see or hear their reactions, he just turns around and runs. Sometimes being smaller than the footballers really has its perks.

He manages to avoid Karofsky and Azimio all day, and makes sure that his notebook is safely stored in his backpack.

The first item on his list, scoring a first date with Kurt and seeing him up close, if through a window, is checked. The second item – well, that one is going to need a little preparation.

Yesterday, Kurt confessed to him that Carole had figured him out the second he came out to greet her, and Blaine’s mind had been filled with images of a bashful-looking Kurt trying to pretend like he didn’t just spend two hours flirting with Blaine through his living-room window. Ah, good images.

Then Kurt called Carole into his room and put her on the phone with Blaine because she wanted to meet him, too. After dialing up his charm to about 200%, she agreed that Blaine could come over for their next date – if Burt was in on everything, too. That’s where Blaine’s still a bit doubtful that it’s ever going to happen. But again, his options are limited. Either tell Mr. Hummel and see Kurt, or plainly not see Kurt. The second one isn’t really an option, anyway.

In the meantime, Carole gave him pointers on what to do before coming over. Buying medical hygiene products, showering thoroughly, no aftershave lotion or deodorant or any other product, just to be sure – including hair gel, Kurt teased him. Carole will give him clothes to change into, so Blaine figures wooing Kurt will be all personality-driven: He’ll look like medusa, in medically prepared clothes, and won’t smell like anything (hopefully).

As if he knew Blaine was thinking about it, his phone dings with a message from Kurt.

MY DAD SAID YES!!! – K

Blaine gulps. Wow, so it’s happening. Tina shoots him a worried look from her side of the desk but he assures her he’s alright.

WE’RE GOING TO BE IN THE SAME ROOM!!!!!!!! – K

Another limit: No physical contact whatsoever. Blaine’s very touchy-feely, usually, so he’ll have to figure out what to do with his hands and – well, everything. The need to touch Kurt through the glass window was overwhelming enough that he put up his hand to initiate semi-contact. He’ll probably have to be handcuffed this time. Or glue his body to a wall.

Okay, I know you’re in class but my phone says you read the messages so I’m assuming you’re freaking out. – K

No reason to. My dad’s going to love you. – K

Blaine shakes his head and tries to concentrate on the math assignments he’s working on with Tina.

Kurt’s right, he’s nervous as hell. But he won’t let himself be limited by that. He’s going to bring his A game.

#klaine advent 2017 #klaine advent: limited #klaine fic #klaine AU #my klaine fics #note the TW please!

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iris-writes-things · 6 years

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A Day At The Races chapter 6: Paradise By The Dashboard Light

Read on AO3, FF.net or under the cut, or read the illustrated version on my Patreon!

This fan fiction contains internalized racism, internalized homophobia and heavily prejudiced characters. If you are sensitive to any of the above, proceed with caution or not at all.

The story takes place in 1952, in a small town in New Mexico. Keith Cogain, a half-Korean young man, is bullied because of his mother's heritage. In part because we're in the middle of the Korean war, but mostly still because white kids like picking on colored kids.

He finds his outlet in street racing, and takes great pride in generally being better at it than his bully and rival, Jimmy Parker. When his race car, skillfully engineered by Hunk and Pidge, winds up in Jimmy's hands, he makes a bet that could potentially make him live his greatest nightmare. To leave his newly developed crush, Lance Martínez.

Chapter 6 of 6 Completed 3460 words Romance/historical

“Keith, what happened? What… What did you do?” Lance demanded as he promptly invaded Keith’s personal space.

“I-I… uh…” Keith stammered. “I challenged Jimmy.”

“And? I heard you say you made a, uh, mistake. And challenging Jimmy does not sound like one.”

“If I lose… I have to move in with my grandmother... Who lives in North Korea…”

“Que?! Are you crazy?!” Lance shouted, grabbing the front of Keith’s jacket, pulling him closer. “Keith, i-if you go there you-you.. you might never come back!” Lance stuttered, stumbling over his words.

There was a desperation in Lance’s voice that cut deeply into Keith’s heart. His chest grew tight, he couldn’t bring himself to speak or even breathe. He didn’t want to hurt Lance in this way, but what else could he do?

“Lance, I-I…” Keith started, but he was soon interrupted by Shiro, pulling them apart.

“Look, I understand you boys have a lot to discuss,” Shiro cut in. “but could you please take it to the back?” The older man asked, shooting an apologetic look at the few patrons in a booth at the far end of the restaurant, as he guided the boys to the storage room behind the kitchen and quickly leaving them alone.

“Well? You were saying?” Lance demanded, arms crossed.

Keith had never seen him this angry. Or was it disappointment? He wasn’t sure, but both options were equally painful.

“Look, I know what I did was stupid, I know when—if I move away I won’t ever see you guys again, but I made this bet. I can’t just go back on it.”

“Why not?!”

“Because by tonight, everyone in town will know about it! If I chicken out now, I’ll never hear the end of it! The bullying is bad enough as it is, Lance, I don’t want to make it worse…” Keith pleaded, swallowing around a lump in his throat as tears welled up in his eyes.

For a long moment, there was nothing but Keith’s face growing red with the breath he was holding, until Lance let out a deep sigh.

“Okay. I understand. If you really…” he took a moment to calm down, exhaling deeply. “...feel that way, you should race.” He admitted. “But there is one more thing we should talk about.”

“What would that be?”

“The, uh, beso. You know, the…” Lance wracked his mind for the right word, before resorting to Spanish cursing in frustration, gesturing at his lips.

“The kiss?” Keith suggested.

“Sí! Yes, the kiss. Or will we pretend that never happened?”

“I don’t know…” Keith sighed. “Do you want to pretend it never happened?”

“Not really? I liked it.” Lance stated simply. “Even if I did, uh, want to pretend it never happened, I don’t think we could. Everyone knows it happened by now.” He let out a deep sigh. “Keith, I don’t know what you meant by that, uh, kiss, but if it meant what I think it meant... I would like that, but before we do anything, I need to know if you want it too. You know… A, uh, novio.”

“...a what?” Keith questioned.

“The thing girls have?” He tried.

The silence and questioning stare on Keith’s face prompted Lance to keep talking.

“Uh, it’s like a husband, but not married.”

“You mean a boyfriend?”

“Yes, a boyfriend. So I… need to know if you want a boyfriend. That would be me.”

“Well, sure. I don’t think I’ve ever liked someone the same way I’ve liked you.” Keith reasoned.

“Is that a yes or no?” Lance asked, crossing his arms impatiently.

“It’s a yes. Absolutely yes.” Keith reassured the other boy, giving him a soft smile.

“In that case I would like to make a, uh, second bet.” Lance said, patting Keith’s chest, a sly smile creeping onto his face. “I will be your boyfriend, but you will have to win the race first.”

“You know you’ll be putting a target on your back as well, right? People might start being meaner to you because of me.” Keith warned him, unconsciously taking hold of Lance’s hands.

“Keith, why do you think I don’t know that? I like you. I’m in love with you. I’m not going to give that up because of what bullies might do.” Lance whispered, squeezing Keith’s hands. He could feel the other’s hands jerk, like he resisted the urge to pull away the second he became aware he was holding Lance’s hands.

“You have no idea how much that means to me.” Keith smiled, pulling the other boy into a tight hug.

***

“Pidge, are you sure this is a good idea?” Hunk asked while he worked away at the engine of Shiro’s black VW bug. “I mean, I get that we don’t technically have the time or money to be doing this, but… if we make the slightest mistake, we could be killing our best friend.”

“I know.” The little girl sighed from under the car as she tightened the bolts with a wrench. “Just try not to think about it too hard.”

“How am I supposed not to think about that too hard?!”

“Try focusing on keeping him alive instead.” Said an oddly familiar voice, entering the garage.

Katie bumped her head against the underside of the car and pushed herself out from under it. The girl groaned in pain before she called out for her brother. “Matt, what are you doing here?! Aren’t you supposed to be in college?”

“Shiro called me. He said he wanted me to help you guys make sure Keith wins his next race. He sounded really concerned, so I figured it was urgent.”

“Yeah, the stakes are pretty high this time. Are you sure you haven’t grown out of boosting cars, Mr. Lawyer man?” Katie teased.

“Is that a challenge, little miss physics genius?” Matt smirked.

***

“So Keith, how was school?”

“Same old, same old. Nothing special.” The boy mumbled, his fork poking at his potatoes absentmindedly.

“I don’t think so.” His mother stated matter-of-factly. “I think something big is going on, and you’re trying to hide it.”

Keith tensed to the point of almost bending his cutlery. “I swear, there’s nothing going on.” He forced through gritted teeth.

His mother smiled softly, placing a gentle hand on Keith’s.

“We spoke with your teachers earlier, and your grades appear to be skyrocketing. We’re so proud of you.” His father said, beaming with pride. “To reward you, we’ve decided to allow you one hour of television or phone calls every day. However, the rest of your punishment remains intact.”

“Um, well, thanks? I guess...” Keith stammered. If he was being completely honest, he hadn’t expected this to go so well. His mind had wandered too fast to the thought that his father might have found out about him seeing Shiro and Lance, earlier that day. Slowly, he relaxed as the nerves left him, and he just enjoyed dinner with his family. That was, until his father spoke up again.

“Son, remember the morning I picked you up from the county jail? You asked me why I wasn’t mad at you for racing, and I told you I was?”

“Unfortunately, yes...” Keith mumbled. He really didn’t want to think about that morning now that things seemed to be looking up.

“You have to understand, it’s for your own safety that I don’t want you to race. Any given Monday, I can open a national newspaper and read about how a bunch of wayward kids got hurt in a car crash caused by street racing. I was so worried that may happen to you...”

“But it won’t! Dad, I’m smarter than whatever dumb kids going around, crashing into the side of a building in California! Pidge and Hunk always make sure I can win safely!”

“I still don’t want you anywhere near those races, you hear me? If you don’t cause a crash, that Parker kid will. What if you got caught up in that?!”

Keith could only groan.

“Keith, honey, we just don’t want you to risk your neck at those races. Whatever the prizes may be, it’s not worth it.” His mother pleaded, holding his hand in both of hers.

“I know, mom… It’s just…” Keith sighed, rubbing his hands in his eyes. “Thirty-five hundred dollars per win is a lot of money, and with all due respect, it’s more than what dad makes in a month. I know things have been difficult for you guys financially, and you’ve been trying so hard to hide it from me, but I know we’re only barely scraping by… So I’ve only been keeping a thousand dollars from every win to pay off Hunk and Pidge. The rest I’ve all put into a secret bank account in case you guys ever… you know… ran out of money. I’ve already been slipping you guys smaller bills during slow weeks...”

His parents looked at one another before looking back at their son, surprised at both his level of maturity in helping out, but the child-like fear of getting caught going behind their backs as well.

“I-I’m sorry.” Keith sobbed, tears welling up in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have done this without you guys knowing, but it was the only way I knew I could help and I’m really, really good at it. Please, just let me help you.”

“I’m sorry, Keith.” His mother whispered as she pulled him into a warm embrace. “If only I had known, I wouldn’t have punished you so harshly.” She said as she petted the back of his neck, still neatly buzzed, regretting what she had done to her son. “Just promise to stay safe, okay?”

“I promise.”

***

Finally, three weeks later, the night of the race was there. Half the town seemed to have gathered at the start of the course, and Keith was willing to bet the other half was waiting near the finish line. He shook heavily from the nerves, but he wasn't about to admit that. Everyone who would ask about it, would get the same answer ‘I’m not shaking because I’m nervous, I’m shaking because I haven’t had a smoke in three weeks, and my mom would literally kill me if she smelled it on me.’ It was only half a lie, he supposed. His mom was a very observant person after all. She would always notice when— Keith’s train of thought was immediately interrupted when a lit cigarette appeared in front of his face.

“Here. I think you need this more than I do.” Shiro smiled. “Are you ready for the race?”

Keith immediately snatched the cigarette from Shiro’s fingers and took a long drag from it. “You’re the best.” He sighed. “And, to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever been less ready for a race… I mean, I’ve dealt with high stakes before, but this is something else completely. What if he really wins?”

“He won’t.” Matt boasted as he walked up to them. “Shiro called me over to help out with the car after all.”

“Shut up, Matt, you didn’t even do all that much.” Katie giggled as she elbowed her older brother in his side.

“Where’s Hunk?” Keith remarked as he looked around for the big guy.

“Still unloading the Volkswagen. We’re calling her ‘the Black Death’!” Katie said as she excitedly bounced on the spot.

“Absolutely not!” Shiro gasped as he clutched his chest. “That’s still my car you’re talking about and I don’t want it associated with death in any way! Especially when the stakes are this high!”

“‘Black Widow’, then.” Katie sighed, rolling her eyes while her brother mouthed ‘I told you so’.

“Katie!” Shiro protested.

“Okay, so it’s just the boring old Volkswagen Beetle.” Katie said, defeated.

“Guys, the car is all set.” Hunk smiled as he wiped his hands on an old rag. “Keith, do you wanna go for a test lap before the race starts?”

“Can’t. There’s only a few minutes left. I can’t do an entire lap in that little time.” Keith mumbled, finishing off Shiro’s cigarette in a single drag. “Guess I’ll just have to put my fate in your handiwork.” he smiled, patting their backs before he walked up to Shiro’s car. He realized very soon that he shouldn’t have finished that cigarette as quickly as he did, as he became hyper-aware of the stares drilling holes in his back.

"Hey Cogain, when I beat your sorry ass I'll make sure to stop by your place to help you pack." Jimmy taunted him from the red Fiat.

"On what, your sister's tricycle? By the time I'm done with you, you won't have a car left to drive me to the airport with." Keith said as he ducked into the driver's seat, angrily slamming the door shut. "Are we racing or what?!" He shouted at Jimmy's second in command, who held his dad's shotgun pointed up in the air.

"Ye-yes!" He stammered. "Start your engines. Ready, get set, GO!" The second in command said as he shot the gun into the air, sounding the start signal.

He was glad Jimmy had agreed to race the same course again. Keith knew these streets so well, he could practically race this course blindfolded. A hundred yards straight ahead, turn left, turn right, half a mile straight ahead on a dirt road leading out of town before turning right and right again on the way back into town.

The course itself was pretty easy, but staying ahead of Jimmy was a whole different story. Keith could only stay a foot ahead of his rival at best, when he was ahead of him at all.

Suddenly, a sharp turn came up. Keith had forgotten that road workers had closed off Dos Santos Street, forcing them to turn right. Keith could barely slow down in time to round the corner and keep all four wheels on the ground as he did so. Jimmy, on the other hand, must have noticed it too late. Keith could hear the screeching of Red's tires from his left as his opponent hit the brakes. It must have been a last ditch attempt to round the corner and overtake his position, but it was too late. Mere seconds later he heard the unmistakable sound of a car crashing against an old tree.

Keith panicked, bringing Shiro's black beetle to a screeching halt. The older man's words echoed through his head.

'Be the better person.' Shiro’s words echoed through Keith’s head, much to his frustration.

"Be the better person… God damn it!" Keith screamed and slammed his fists to the steering wheel before getting out and rushing to the distorted shell of the Fiat, his Fiat, and yanked the passenger door open.

"Jimmy, are you okay?!" Keith yelled at his opponent, who coughed and groaned in pain. "Good enough for me." He huffed, taking a tight hold on the other's jacket, slowly but surely pulling him out of the wreckage, getting him to safety before the leaking fuel tank and torn electrical wires lit the scarlet car on fire.

"Did… did you just... save me?" Jimmy asked, hesitantly looking at Keith, who slung Jimmy’s arm around his neck to support him.

"Don't mention it. Let's just get you to your dad so he can take you to the hospital."

"James Parker Junior, you dumb piece of shit!" Officer Parker shouted as he stormed up to them.

"Ah, there he is right now..." Keith remarked, thoroughly unimpressed by the man’s attitude towards his son. Maybe his own dad wasn’t all that bad.

"Did you really think losing one son this year wasn't enough?! You just had to almost get yourself killed too?!" The man shouted in his son's face as he shook him by the front of his shirt.

"Stop it! You're only making it worse!" Keith objected while trying to hold the other as still as possible.

"Don't you tell me how to discipline my own son, you yellow little shit!"

Keith flinched, closing his eyes when the police officer raised his fist to him.

"And don't you dare to discipline mine." A voice called out from behind the officer. A voice called out from behind the officer.

Keith's heart leapt when he opened his eyes again to find his father, stopping Officer Parker from punching him.

"Now go get your son to a damn hospital. Like you said, losing one son over the span of a year is enough. You should at least make sure your youngest is okay."

With that, the police officer begrudgingly lifted his son from Keith's shoulders and carried him away.

"Thanks dad. But… What are you doing here? I never told you about tonight."

"Well, this race was the talk of the town all week. It would have reached us sooner or later. So, we decided to at least come and watch."

"You did so well, Keith. We're so proud of you." His mother cooed as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I guess you were right, though, dad. That if I didn't crash, Jimmy would." Keith jested.

"Well, he doesn’t look like he’s about to race in a long while,so that’s one danger out of the way.” he said as he watched the officer carefully guide his son into the squad car. “You know, son, you’re really good at this, and you managed to not put yourself in any immediate danger until you went in to save Jimmy… So,what I’m trying to say is… Just keep doing what you do best… and stay safe."

"Keith, you're a hero!" Lance shouted, flinging his arms around Keith before pressing a kiss to his cheek. He nearly knocked the other over, but Lance couldn’t and wouldn’t contain his enthusiasm.

Keith let out a nervous chuckle as he barely kept himself standing. "By the way, mom, dad, this is my friend, Lance."

"The boy you kissed?" His mother asked, prying for answers.

Keith blushed, startled and almost scared to reply to his mother's remark. He stuttered, "I-I mean, yeah." He stuttered, looking away from her.

"Well, we've talked about it, your father and I. It wasn't easy, but we decided that your happiness is more important to us than our own comfort. If the two of you really are in love with each other, we shouldn’t want to keep you apart. You’ll always be safe in our home. This Lance boy seems like a nice guy. I think he is the right man for you.” The smile on his mother’s face, Keith noticed, was clearly one of endearment, only emphasized by the way she pinched the other boy’s cheek, drawing a joyous giggle from his lips.

"You know, Keith, my parents weren’t too happy when I brought your mother home for the first time either.” His father explained. “But after a few years of persistence, they got used to the idea of having a daughter in law that wasn't the same color as them. It took me too long to realize our predicaments aren't really all that different. So, in short, you have our blessing."

Lance immediately took the opportunity to pull Keith in for a kiss on the lips. When he pulled back, he laughed at the utterly befuddled expression on Keith’s face. “‘Novio’, remember?”

“B-but I didn’t win?” Keith stuttered, barely daring to look Lance in the eye.

“You saved him, Keith. You won.” Lance smiled, pulling the shorter boy into a tight embrace. He eventually let go when he noticed their friends were gathering around them.

“I’m proud of you, Keith.” Shiro smiled, patting his back. “You did the right thing.”

“But I didn’t win… Hell, I didn’t even finish. Jimmy’s crew can still use that against me.” Keith protested weakly.

“Well, for what it’s worth, Jimmy didn’t finish either. And you saved him. If his buddies try anything funny, we’ll stand up to them like we always do.” Hunk remarked, flexing his bicep.

“And so will we.” Keith’s dad said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Group hug!” Katie announced as she pushed Lance and Keith’s mom closer to them, as Shiro closed in on them from the other side, wrapping their arms around them. Hunk finally joined, tightly squeezing everyone together.

“Not so tight, Hunk!” Keith complained.

“Nope! You’re having this bonding moment whether you like it or not.” The large man insisted.

Keith chuckled as he struggled to turn to Lance. “You know, if you’re going to be my boyfriend, there’s probably going to be a lot more of this.”

The other boy laughed heartily. “I look forward to it.” He said as he looked lovingly at the other.

“Good.” Keith smiled as he kissed the other. “I love you.”

“Te amo también.”

#EN #fanfic #Voltron: Legendary Defender #50s AU #klance

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