#i wanna get drunk at a gay bar and maybe hit on people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

keirawantstocry · 7 days

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okay i asked you about dilf!pac and teacher!tubbo before

may i introduce dilf fitpac and bartender tubbo, he would be fumbling making their drinks and giving them discounts, the would convince him to drink with them, and tubbo gets so drunk that they end up bringing him home in an unverified or something and they let him crash on his couch. one in the morning he gets asked out by these two ridiculously hot men

DILFS AND TUBBO LETS FUCKING GOOOOO

Tubbo didn’t expect much from the trip his friends encouraged him to take to the bar. Tina and Foolish had been encouraging him to get out of the house, to let Tina and Bagi take a turn watching Sunny with their daughter. Foolish took him by the arm and dragged him out of the house and to a gay bar close to his house.

“You’re straight,” Tubbo complained as he dragged his feet down the road, Foolish ahead of him.

“I can still go to a gay bar! They aren’t gonna stop me at the door and ask me if I can prove I’m gay!”

“Maybe they will,” Tubbo said, trying not to roll his eyes. “Will you be willing to suck a dick to get inside?” “Only if it’s yours.”

“Fuck you.”

Tubbo nearly ran into Foolish as he stopped straight in front of the club. The city lights were beginning to light up the streets as the darkness of the evening began to settle. The bouncer was a buff man with a forgettable face who let them in after only a glance.

The club was loud, rainbow lights flashing over the dance floor as the bass boomed. Their DJ was whooping and hollering from behind the stand, as gorgeous people jumped up-and-down in front of him.

“I don't wanna do this,” Tubbo whined.

“LET'S GET YOU DRUNK THEN!” Foolish grabbed him by the arm again, dragging him over to the surprisingly quiet bar. “Vodka shot for him, Jagerbomb for me,” he shot at the bartender closest with his most charming smile.

The man smiled back at him before shouting back behind him with a clipped accented voice, “Hear that Fitch?”

The man currently pulling down a bottle of vodka to dip into one of the two glasses he had already gotten out called back to him. “Yes sir.”

Tubbo's eyes were drawn to the flex of the bartender's muscles as he poured out the drink. He leaned into Foolish and tilted his head towards it. “Oh, that's unfair.”

Foolish followed his gaze and whistled under his breath. “Damn. If I wasn't basically married, I'd tap that.”

Tubbo shoved against his arm as he realized the younger bartender was listening to them with an amused smile. “Shut up.”

The bald guy with the shocking muscles slid their drinks across the bar. “Just these? Or are we starting a tab?”

Tubbo grabbed the shot and downed it, slamming it back down on the counter. “Start a tab.”

“Oh and I bet you expect me to pay,” Foolish complained with a smile as he picked up his own shot.

“This was your idea so yes.”

Foolish slammed his shot down. “You're lucky I love you. Another?” he asked, directed at the bartender who nodded then looked over at Tubbo.

Tubbo nodded. “Yeah sure why not.” To Foolish, he said, “Cause of the blow jobs, right?”

Foolish snorted and out of the corner of his eye, Tubbo noticed the younger bartender, the one with a gorgeous face, was still eavesdropping. “One of these days my boyfriend is gonna hear you say that and he is gonna beat your ass.”

“Suck my dick,” Tubbo shot back, barely paying attention to what he was saying. He had made contact with the incredibly strong bartender who was sliding his next shot across the table with a stupidly good-looking smile. “Thank you.”

The man's smile grew and to Tubbo's shock, his eyes glided easily over what he could see of Tubbo before meeting his eyes again. “You're welcome.”

As soon as he looked away, Tubbo glanced towards Foolish in a panic who was looking at him with an encouraging expression.

“I think I'll hit the dance floor,” he proclaimed, way louder than necessary. With a wink at the bartenders he said, “You'll watch after my friend won't you?”

“Absolutely,” the one purred in that accented voice and Tubbo could feel every inhibition draining from his body at the sound of that voice. He would do anything to hear that voice purring in his ear like that.

“I can take care of myself,” Tubbo protested weakly.

“I’m sure you can,” the dark haired bartender leaned over the bar, resting his elbows on the counter. “I’m Pac. What’s your name, baby?” His voice was clipped on the word baby. It was beautiful.

“Tubbo,” he said, sliding his hand across the bar to shake his hand.

Pac shook it with ease, smiling fondly at him already. “This is Fit.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. Fit smiled, putting together another drink for a different patron at the bar. “What brings you here tonight?”

Tubbo laughed. “ My friends said I needed to get out of the house. Can I get another vodka shot?”

“Of course.” Pac turned to make the shot himself. He did it with a practiced ease that was mesmerizing before sliding the newly made shot across the bar.

Tubbo downed it, slamming it down with a practiced ease that he was faking. He was starting to feel tipsy.

“Why do your friends think you need to get out of the house?” Pac asked, swinging open the swinging door that let people behind the bar. He swung himself up on the barstool beside Tubbo.

“They think I spend too much time at home with my daughter. Which is ridiculous. Yeah sure I'm only 20 but she's my daughter and I'm gonna do everything to make her life as good as possible.”

Pac nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I'd do anything for my son.”

“You have a kid?” Tubbo so stupid. Of course he had a kid and probably a really hot wife and he would never be interested in some 20-year-old dude he met in the bar.

Pac nodded. “But it's good to get out and have fun as well.”

“Well yeah but you can go out while your wife watches your kid. As a single father I don't have the same uhhh freedom.”

“I don't have a wife,” Pac said with a laugh and Tubbo flushed an embarrassed shade of red.

“Oh shit I'm sorry I shouldn't have assumed.”

Pac waved him off. “It's okay, it's okay. I don't have a wife or husband but I do have co parents so you were right about that.”

Tubbo relaxed ever so slightly. “Oh. Yeah okay. Um sorry if this is too invasive but is it like a dating thing or divorced or…” he trailed off awkwardly. “I'm sorry that's an insane question to ask a stranger.”

“How else will we stop being strangers hm?”

Tubbo opened his mouth then closed it considering his statement. “Huh. Guess you're right.”

Pac nodded. “It's kind of an awkward story actually. We're all close friends and were then as well. We were all messing around.” He shrugged. “And uh accidental pregnancy. We decided to keep it and raise him all together as a group. We decided not to get a paternity test. Just makes things easier. So he doesn't feel less loved by any of his parents.”

Tubbo was nodding along to the story. At some point some kind of drink had been pushed into his hand. He sipped it before speaking. “Funny enough I got in a slightly similar situation. One night stand with this couple and I ended up with the kid. Wouldn't trade her for the fucking world though. She's the light of my life.”

Pac smiled sweetly as he motioned for Fit to bring him another drink. “Kids will do that to you.”

Fit joined them, leaning his arms against the countertop of the bar, making his biceps bulge nicely. Tubbo couldn’t help it when his eyes zeroed in on his arms.

They both noticed, glancing at each other with matching smiles.

“Nice muscles,” Tubbo blurted out. God, it felt awkward that they noticed him looking, he just had to say something to break the tension.

“Thank you,” Fit said with a laugh. “Made ‘em myself.”

Tubbo giggled, feeling even drunker as he took a long swig from his drink. “My friend uh,” he gestured wildly in the direction he thought he remembered Foolish going into. “He’s uh. Yeah he does weight lifting and stuff.”

“Is that why you hang out with him?” Fit asked. “His muscles? Are you guys a thing?”

“Nahhh,” Tubbo drawled, just starting to slur his words. “He’s got a boyfriend. Ough, I have tapped that before though. If you’re even half as good as he was,” he took another long sip, motioning at Fit with his drink.

The man laughed, beginning to flush. “Oh? Are you propositioning me now? You’re tryna hit on me? That what you’re doing?”

“Maybe,” Tubbo said, shrugging his shoulders up as he widened his eyes. “Would you, uh, be all good with that?”

Fit glanced towards Pac. “You’d have to ask my boyfriend.”

Tubbo froze, quickly glancing between them. “Sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, no,” Pac rushed to say, his words mixing together. “Don’t worry, I’ve always been into, uh, polyamory and I think my boyfriend deserves to dip into it if he wants.”

Fit shrugged, throwing a towel over his shoulder after wiping off the countertop once again. “We could share him.”

Bolts of electricity shot through Tubbo’s spine. “Okay,” he slurred. “Two hot older men at the bar, that works. Even better than just one.”

They both laughed and it sounded even more beautiful than the blasting club music the DJ was blasting.

Tubbo finished off his drink with a long swig. “Let me take you two out.”

“I think we’ll be the one taking you out,” Fit teased. “Pac.”

The man perked up. “Sim?”

“Go find Tubbo’s friend and tell him that we can take care of him tonight.”

Pac giggled, joyously, bouncing off the barstool. “Yes, sir.”

#my writing #fanfiction #q!tubbo #poly morning crew #q!pac #q!fit #fitpacbo #EVERYONE CHEER #everyone thank oakley for the motivation

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devouringyourson · 1 year

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like I do get it while loads of straight drunk people may be fine with going to a gay bar and dancing with a drag queen or smth they do get a bit weird when someone hits on them or there's any nudity or trans people existing in a way they don't understand I completely get why queer people wanna feel safe fully expressing themselves in wild and wonderful ways but it's just upsetting that i don't look queer enough to be accepted into that culture. This may be just because I'm not confident enough to so visibly non conforming maybe it's a me problem you know? It's a complex issue and I honestly don't know the answer I'm just venting a bit lol

#me getting upset that butch women dont find me attractive when i look like a 50s housewife

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fakeloveaskblog · 3 years

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aw, sweet loceit in the evening sun. logan is actually super good at explaining healthy relationships and boundaries and stuff actually, i betcha he could recognize abuse no problem

…aye remy! REMY!! HAve you thought about going to that gay bar more often? who knows, maybe you'll encounter someone nice, make friends with like-minded people, hear some disco, the full nine yards. janus might be there, remus might be there. (just look around for the guy with the blue tie, he's a great guy, if he's not wearing it he'll look like he has that blue tie kinda energy! you could totally just get drunk and unload your grievances on him and i bet he won't even mind!)

(Mentions of U!Virgil but I say beforehand when that happens so those who don’t like U!Virgil can enjoy the rest of the fic up until then)

(Words: 4100)

Remy wiped away a tear while looking at your message. The cold light from their phone was the only thing brightening up the room. Virgil was sleeping beside them, his arm was laid around their waist.

"You just like tots gave me the greatest idea! I'm gonna invite Rem out to the bar! It's gonna the funnest thing like ever! Thanks girl!!"

2 days later Remus was dangerously close to eating the moss straight from the gay bar's wall. He had been left without supervision for over 15 minutes while he sat outside waiting for his friend to show up, what else was he supposed to do?!

"SSSSUUUP BABE!!!"

Remy came towards him as fast as they could. They had on a short leather skirt, a neon mesh crop top and a leather jacket over it.

They did a little turn "I just like felt a bit glamorous today!"

Remus choked on his own spit "The world must be a dark place when you aren't feeling glamorous"

"Awwww babbbe"

He sent them a big grin. He'd just put on his usual oversized dysphoria hoodie and matching oversized (:O) sweatpants.

Remus' smile disappeared in an instant as he noticed dark bruises all around Remy's neck. Shades of purple and green collided against each other.

"Ehm did a vampire come and attack you last night? Seriously are you alri-"

"JUst a reminder that it will be loud in there" Remy interrupted.

"Oh. Right!"

He fumbled around in his bag after his headphones. After putting it and a chew necklace on he did a thumbs up. Remy took off their sunglasses and leaned down so they were face to face.

Their face was so close he could feel their breathe against his lips. They put the sunglasses onto him and sent him a soft smile.

“There’s like lots of bright lights too” They explained.

Remus’ heart fluttered. He didn’t understand why “T-thanks”

They moved their arm around his shoulders as they went into the bar. It was past 12 am so some of the daytime furniture had been moved to make place for a dancefloor. There was indeed lots of neon lights flickering all around the bar and fast pop music was blasting through the speakers.

It was hard to see any details of anyone around him so Remus quickly forgot about the bruise. In this lighting it just looked like a weird choker anyway.

A guy with a see through shirt bumped into Remus. He had top surgery scars. For a moment they looked at each other in the most knowing way. The stranger looked away and continued talking with whoever he was with.

Remus whole body seemed to vibrate. There were so many butterflies in his stomach it felt like he was going to puke, in a good way.

Remy sat him down on one of the tall barstools and slumped down right next to him “So whatcha gonna drink?”

“The squashed down organs of my enemies!!!” He shrugged “Soda?”

They burst out into laughter “What? You catholic or something? Not allowed to drink alcohol?”

He slumped in on himself and started fiddling with his necklace “I-I dunno-”

“No. No babe I was just like joking. Like a stupid bitch. It’s okay” They waved at the waiter “Your most alcoholic fruit mix and your finest coca cola please!”

Remus leaned in to whisper “With salt”

“With salt? Please!”

He kept vibrating like an overexcited weasel. After getting their drinks he kept tapping the glass to stim some of the happiness out.

“Honestly I’ve never been to a gay bar before. I’m digging it. Just like how I’m digging graves”

They playfully hit his shoulder “Then I’m tots gonna try my best to make this the ultimate first gay bar experience! I can’t think of any other lil fucked up gremlin buddy I would wanna have by my side!”

"Muhahah!! I am officially assigned ultimate gremlin buddy-”

“Greetings” A voice suddenly came from behind them.

Both of them flinched away. Remy let out a short yell and Remus was close to throwing his drink in the person’s face when he saw it was just Logan.

He had on jeans and a black button up with the top button unbottoned. He had with him iced coffee from starbucks because he had to drive home later.

“LOGIE!!!” Remy threw their arms around his neck to pull him closer “Babe this is the Log-legend. Once he was like sooo drunk so when he like tried to kiss me puked on my shoes instead!”

Logan grimaced “I am still very sorry about that”

“Oh I already know him through Janus” Remus replied.

“Oh my gawd babe” Remy looked between them all “So like we all know Janny?! Wig! Sad he isn’t here then”

Remus held up his cola “Cheers to J-anus!” The other two held up their glasses in agreement.

“Cheers”

“Cheerio!”

“He is very pretty and charming and cute” Logan dreamily sighed. He stopped himself from continuing to say compliments.

“Yeah” The other two sighed back in unison.

Logan sat down on a chair next to them. Remy looked around the bar before squinting at him “No Patty?”

He instantly started looking like a Very sad seal “Sadly my wife is away on a convention with her magical girl anime fanclub this whole week. I estimated that going to the bar would make me feel less lonely”

“You have a WIFe??? Like a real one???” Remus exclaimed, his eyeballs were close to popping out from surprise.

“Yes. This may be a controversial opinion but when I marry someone I prefer them to be physically real” He replied druly.

He got a smug grin on his lips “Does she peg you?”

“She does far more than just peg me”

“Nice!” His eyes went even wider “IS That a stim toy??!”

He pointed at the tangle Logan kept between his fingers “Correct. If I do not have something to relieve my focus onto I can easily go into senso- OH a chewie?”

Remus nodded while showing of his chew necklace. The two of them started rambling about their favorite stim toy. Until they went off into special interests (star trek/astronomy and art/animal biology respectively).

Soon enough Remus was showing pictures of the animal bones he’d found. Logan ooeh and ahhed at all of them before asking the most nerdy of questions (where he’d found them, their bone density, if any damage had been done to them) which only made Rem infodump which made Lo infodump which made them both happy stim.

Meanwhile Remy sat beside them completely zoned out. They got time to drink 2 more of those fruit mixes and a few shots. The room was starting to spin.

The loud music wasn’t keeping out the yelling. They dunked their forehead against the bar table and covered their ears to try and get it out. The music was supposed to keep it out! Why was nothing working! The bruise ached. Their throat closed in on itself until they couldn’t breathe.

“Remus” They gasped out. They looked over to their friend with a desperate look in their eyes. They just needed a distraction.

“So my theory for why you keep finding bones in specifically that part of the woods is because of the kind of dirt making it take longer for them to deco-” Logan was explaining while Remus nodded along.

“Rem! L-let’s like go up and dance or something. Please”

This time it caught Remus’ attention. He looked over to them “Sure- are you feeling alright? Did you drink too much? You’re looking like a mummy”

“Yes. No. I just like- Like- They’re playing Charli xcx of course we gotta like dance!!”

“I will protect your belongings then” Logan added.

Remy stumbled up on shaky legs. Remus sent them a warm smile that made them want to cry before taking their hand. He let them lead him out to the dancefloor. Honestly he was pretty nervous about it, but being with them always made some of the anxiety melt away.

They stumbled on their own feet and fell forward. Their friend took ahold of their wrists and pulled them close to his chest. Their faces were so close to each other. So so close.

He didn’t let go. They couldn't remember him ever letting them hold him this close. Their chests pressed against each other. Their arms around his shoulders. His hands on their back.

"You’re right. It is a good song. Good to crash a car too" Remus said absentmindedly.

Remy let up into shaky giggles from how sudden he’d said it “Yeah. Yeah I guess”

They kept giggling. He chuckled back. He started spinning around on the dancefloor. They moved with him. His arms wrapped closer around their waist. Their cheek leaned against the slope of his neck (even though they had to lean down to get on his height level).

Remy quietly sang along to the music which made Remus start yelling along to it. The enby threw their head back from laughter. They took his hand and intertwined their fingers.

Remus moved his hand out and spun them around before pulling them close again. Their cheeks were flushed red, his was as well. He playfully dipped them down when the song ended.

It continued on into a song neither of them knew but they kept dancing anyway. They didn’t stay as pressed close to each other but they always had some contact. Holding hands. An arm around a waist. A head leaning against a chest.

When they finally got back to the bar table they were both panting. Remy was completely leaning on Remus since their body had started to hurt, but even through the pain they were both bubbling over with so much happiness they kept breaking out into bouts of giggling.

To their surprise Logan wasn’t sitting alone. A tall person with long dark hair sat on the chair beside him. Xir hand was on his thigh. The nerd had a soft smile on his face as they leant close to talk.

“Uh Lo?” Remus had to wave his arms around to get his attention.

His head shot around to look at them “Hello” He glanced to the person “These are the ones I was protecting belongings for” He stood up and held out his hand “Shall we?” Xir took it. Logan waved at his friends before going off to the dancefloor with the stranger.

“Huh. Good for him”

“I guess”

Remy ordered another high alcohol fruit mix. Remus happily chewed on his necklace while humming along to the music. Between their chairs their hands hang with their fingers intertwined. Holding their hand had started to make Remus feel all funny in the head for some reason.

The enby watched on as Logan and the stranger danced for a bit before moving to a corner to make out. When the stranger started to lead him towards the bar’s bathrooms Remy turned to their friend.

“Yeah okay he’s not coming back for like a while. Smoke break?”

“Of course!”

They finished their drink before leaving the bar. The pair stopped right outside. Remus sat down on the side of the pavement. Remy tried to sit down but they stumbled over themself and fell flat on the ground.

Remus got up to help “Are you okay? Are you sure you haven’t drank too much?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine” They laughed out.

He sat them down on the pavement while dusting off their clothes. He patted them on the head while pouting “You should get some water”

“Naaaah babe. I’m good”

In the moonlight the bruise was visible again. That horrible dark purple bruise around their neck. It looked like it hurt.

Remus put his hand on their shoulder “Beanie are you alright? I do know it wasn’t some halloween monster that got you that bruise”

For a moment their whole body tensed, they forced a smile “It’s fine. me and my boyf just tried like some new kinky shit in the bedroom y’know. Nothing more” They lied.

They took out a cigarette pack and a lighter from their bag. They traced their thumb over Remus’ lower lip and opened his mouth just slightly. Remy leaned closer while putting a cigerette between his lips. They lit it.

Remus took a deep breathe. It’d been a while since he’d last smoked. He leaned so close the cigarette nearly touched Remy’s skin. They parced their lips as he breathed out the smoke right into their mouth.

A smile spread on their lips. He held the cigarette over to them but they shook their head. They looked around in their bag again and took out a small poppers bottle.

“Should you really take that. Won’t your brain melt out of your ears?” Remus asked “I really don’t wanna have to slorp up your brain juice...yet”

“Relax babe. It’s like not dangerous as long as I don’t like take too much and I only take when partying” It took a moment before they quietly added “And I only party when I need to get out of the apartement”

“What?”

They forced on a bigger smile “What?”

Remy moved the popper up to their nose and inhaled as much of it as they could. It took a few seconds before they let up into a giggle. It was in a higher tone than their usual bubbly laugh, it almost sounded like cackling. They could see stars.

(U!Virgil mentions from here on out)

“Y’know my boyfriend gave me like a flashback or whatever last night” They giggled while swaying from side to side.

Remus gently grabbed their shoulders and moved them to lean against him so they wouldn’t fall over “Uhu. Did you stab him?”

“No silly. He just. He’d been soooo sweet all weeek and I just I just ruined it ‘cause i like overeacted to some joke he made while like we were washing the dishes” They were barely even aware they were speaking “And like it just kept going until we were like screaming at each other”

Remy was still smiling and giggling between every word but tears started to form in their eyes. Their fingers felt numb. Bile was rising in their throat.

“And he just like threw the plate he was holding down on the ground. And it like didn’t hit me. He wasn’t even aiming at me. He was just throwing it at the ground. But it shattered and it was so stupid and overemotional and stupid and pathetic but I just I just curled up on the floor and like had a panic attack like a stupid baby”

They smeared their hand across their face to try and get the tears away. They felt sick. Remus quickly put out his cigarette, it didn’t feel like the right time to smoke.

“And I just like- Is that normal? Is that fine? Like throwing stutff like that? I-I- he’s never done it before. Or I mean like not plates” They looked up at Remus “Is it fine?”

He gulped while fiddling with his hoodie sleeve “Well uh did he apologize?”

“Mhmm. He like- like for some minutes he like kept yelling ‘cause he thought I was just like faking a panic attack to like I dunno manipulate him but then he like comforted me and like calmed me down and like held me and cuddled all night until I fell asleep and- and he said sorry a bunch of times and like he said it would never happen again. He uh usually doesn’t lie”

“Well ehm then it should be fine right? Right?” They both shrugged at each other “I mean everyone can make mistakes! And it was during an argument! Everyone does drastic things during an arguments! So it’s fine. I think”

A shaking breathe of relief left Remy’s lips. They stretched themself over his lap and he moved his arms around them. “Thanks babe. I was like tots worried for a bit but y’know i was thinking like that too. So it’s fine”

“Yeah” He combed his fingers through their hair “You do know you can vent to me whenever right? I promise I won’t gross you out with details about how to pull out rabbit teeth ever again so if I can hold that back then I can also listen to stuff! I can super listen!!”

They closed their eyes. They felt so tired. So tired and sick and horrible. “Mhm. I know babe. I know”

Remy sent him a soft smile before suddenly puking. Some of it came on his pants but mostly on the ground. Remus stood up and carefully moved them down to a sitting position.

He rubbed up and down their back with one hand and held their hair back with his other. Their shoulders were shaking and they were taking in shallow breathes between every sudden throw up.

“It’s okay beanie-boo. Breathe. Breathe. You got all the time in the world. Until the sun blows up at least”

“I-I took- too much- too much” They slurred out before lurching forward again. It seemed to stop for now.

“I’m aware” He carefully wiped away some of the puke left around their mouth with his hoodie sleeve.

They leaned back against his chest. They closed their eyes and focused on breathing. He held them so so gently. As if they would break like glass otherwise. He pressed a kiss to the top of their head.

“There you are!” Logan said as came through the bar entrance “What a relief. I assumed you had left without me because you thought my actions were unacceptable” He noticed how pale and shaky Remy looked and got a worried look on his face “Is everything alright?”

“They feel like someone has slammed a fish into their stomach. Not good” Remus replied.

“I see. I suppose it woud be best to get them home”

Logan picked Remy up with ease to carry them to his car. He was quite sure he’d carried dogs that weighted more than them. Remus anxiously followed along.

He sat them in the passenger seat. He shook their shoulders until they opened their eyes. They let out a quiet whine.

He held up 4 fingers “Remy how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Fuck yourself”

“Noted”

They moved to the side and seemed to pass out again. Logan closed the door before turning to Remus.

“Did they take anything?” He whispered.

“Only a popper”

“Good. Do you need a ri-”

“Bus”

“Okay” Logan was about to go but stopped midstep and lowered his voice even more “Oh and Rem...Could you please not ask Janus to hang out next weekend? I am planning a surprise...I hope it will make him happy”

“Good luck comrade....Please text me once Remy is home safe. Please?”

“Of course”

He did a little nod before leaving. Logan got into the car. He couldn’t stop looking at the bruise around their neck. Remy continued to sleep for most of the ride until they they were 5 minutes or so away from their apartment. They suddenly flinched awake.

“Stop the car!” They gasped out.

“Are you still feeling the same?”

“Logan stop the fucking car!” There was fear in their eyes.

Logan stopped by the side of the road. The road was barren and dark. It had to be past 3 am at least. Remy crawled back into the backseats while their whole body shook.

“Don’t. Look. At. Me”

“Sure” He stared down into the steering wheel to not accidentally see their reflection in the glass.

“I just. I just have to change clothes. I just. I don’t want Virigl to call me a whore again. I mean. He won’t. But what if. What if he gets mad. I just. I just have to change” They slurred out.

They stumbled out of the car after changing into a pair of long pants and closing their leather jacket. A cold chill went up Logan’s spine. He quickly stepped out of the car as well.

“Okay bye bye Logie!!”

They tried to move but Logan grabbed onto their shoulders. He forced back a choking feeling in his throat “What do you mean by your boyfriend getting mad?”

“Pff! It’s nothing! I’m drunk!! Byyyeeeeee”

They started to stumble away but Logan easily followed along “It did not sound like he called you a whor-...you know what...with your consent. I am simply going to remind you that calling a partner things like that is not okay. Not in any circumstance”

Remy’s expression turned cold. They walked faster “I don’t like what you’re implying”

“I’m not implying anything”

“Yes you Fucking are!”

“Exscuse me for being worried about your wellbeing. What you just said sounded like a very bad sign”

“Yeah exactly it only SOUnded bad! My boyfriend isn’t bad!” Remy snarled out.

“I am not saying he is. He doesn’t have to be bad to say awful things, as long as he changes”

They shoved their hands into their pockets. Their hands moved into fists “You don’t know a fucking thing about me. You tried to kiss me once when you were drunk and that’s all. We don’t know each other”

Logan took a deep breathe “I don’t need to know you to see red flags. Remy-” He searched for words “Remy you’re bruised. How- you can’t expect me to not get worried”

Remy suddenly stopped and turned around to meet his eyes. “MY BOYFRIEND ISN’T ABUSIVE! I-”

“I’m not necessarily saying he is. I just wan’t to talk-” His voice started to sound desperate.

They looked like a cornered animal. Tears were brimming at the edges of their eyes “YOU DON’T KNOW A THING!”

“Remy-”

“I DID THIS TO MYSELF!” Their hand went up to the bruise “I DESERVED IT! VIRGIL DIDN’T DO A FUCKING THING! I DID! I TOOK A BELT AND HURT MYSELF! OKAY?! VIRGIL CARES ABOUT ME!”

He tried to sound soothing “Remy please take a deep breathe-��

“NO! NO! YOU KNOW WHAT LOGAN?! THERE IS STILL CUM ON YOUR FUCKING LIPS FROM YOU SUCKING OFF SOME STRANGER IN A DIRTY BATHROOM! SO NO! I AM NOT TAKING LOVE ADVICE FROM SOMEONE WHO IS CHEATING ON HIS GODDAMN WIFE!”

They stormed away. For a moment Logan was frozen in place before he forced himself to run after them to try and make sure they would be okay.

“I am not-”

Remy looked at him for one last time. The look in their eyes made him feel cold. It was pure hatred.

“Logan get the fuck away from me! I am drunk and high and alone on a street with no one but you who is sure as hell fucking stronger than me and all you’re doing is spouting bullshit! So please get why I want you to leave. And why I don’t ever want you to talk to me again!”

He stopped dead in his tracks “...Right....Yes....I am so sorry”

Remy didn’t even respond. They simply turned and walked away. Logan stayed and watched to make sure they got home to the apartment safe before going back to his car.

He slumped down in the seat. His heart was racing and his thoughts were for once an illogical flurry. He sat motionless for several minutes before finally getting some semblence of an idea.

He took out his phone and dialed one of his usual numbers. It took several signals before Emile Picani picked up.

“Mhm? Logie bear? I can’t today I have clients in the morning” He yawned out.

“This is about one of your patients. I am fearing that they are in danger”

In an instant all of the sleepyness in Emile’s voice disappeared “In danger? Physical? Is it urgent? Do I need to call someone? Which patient are you even referring to?”

Logan hesitated. If Remy had reacted that strongly to him just attempting to ask about his boyfriend it was very likely that they would stop going to therapy if Emile brought it up. His throat tightened, he didn’t want to put them in any more danger.

“I....Nevermind Emile....This was just a far too gone joke...Someone dared me to call you. I am sorry. Have a good night”

He ended the call. He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel and let out a long sigh. His hands held onto the wheel so hard his knuckles whitened.

Logan had no idea what to do. No idea at all. All he knew was fear. Fear for Remy’s safety. Fear for their well being. Fear that anything he did would only make their situation worse.

#mini fic #remus sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #sanders sides #remsleep #resleep #rem^2 #these sure keep getting longer huh #its past 4 am #fun

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allfandomxreader · 3 years

Text

Home for the Holidays (2)

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Summary: He could’ve easily told you about Margot on many occasions. Why didn’t he? You can’t be sure. What you do know, is his secret makes it easier to have your own. Even so, your guilt is almost unbearable.

Warnings: Language, drinking alcohol, alluded drunkenness.

Words: 3.9k

Part: 1/5 (probably)

A/N: Just like the reader and Luke, I don’t know how I'm going to pull this series off. This chapter seems a little quick and jumbled to me but everything is important to the plot, sorry in advance. As always, feedback is loved and appreciated :) Not my gif!

Series Masterlist // Stranger Things Masterlist

Just like Hawkins, your room remains exactly the way you left it. Your knickknacks collected a thin layer of dust while you’ve been away, the photos and books still sit in their rightful places, the clothes you always leave behind are still folded neatly in your dresser untouched. This room used to be your sanctuary, an escape from problems that were just beyond the door.

It’s always a weird feeling waking up in your childhood home, surrounded by things belonging to the person you used to be. You feel out of place, too different from the girl you used to be to claim this room as your own, like your past and present are at battle and you’re caught in the crossfire. You’d give anything for this room to feel like home again. You wish you could crawl back under the sheets, to go back in time and have the worries you had as a teen before the real world came all too quickly. Or at the very least, you just wish you had a good night’s sleep.

Exhaustion is not an unusual for you these days. In the past month, you got used to working late nights and studying until the early hours of the morning. Today should be like any other, going through the motions, learning to live with the mistakes made in nights prior. You’re not sure how to live with this one though.

You don’t remember the last time you lied to Steve, the two of you were always brutally honest with one another, so open with each other’s lives at times was almost painful. Or so you thought.

It wasn’t like Steve to keep secrets from you, quite frankly you didn’t even think that was possible anymore. Every second of downtime your day allowed was spent talking with him, whether that was through FaceTime calls or text messages. He could’ve easily told you about Margot on many occasions. Why didn’t he? You can’t be sure. What you do know, is his secret makes it easier to have your own. Even so, your guilt is almost unbearable.

“Do we look straight enough?” Luke asks from beside you. He’s spent the majority of the morning sifting his suitcase to find something to wear.

“I don’t know,” You admit looking over your outfits for the tenth time. “Wait, uncuff your jeans.”

“Seems a little stereotypical.” He grumbles, bending over to fix his pant legs.

“Well I don’t know! This entire thing is fucked up and I really don’t know how we’re going to pull it off.” His eyebrows raise at your sudden outburst. “I’m sorry,” You say, pressing your palm to your forehead to collect your thoughts, “I know you’re trying to help, and I can’t thank you enough. But I didn’t think break would be this stressful.”

“Remember that one time at the bar? When the creepy guy wouldn’t leave you alone? Think of it like that.”

“You pretended to be my boyfriend all of five minutes. And it was to fool a stranger not my entire family and closest friends.” With a final sigh, you reach for the door handle.

“Shouldn’t we set ground rules?” He asks.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, it’s Christmas and there’s mistletoe and shit,” He shrugs, “I’m not kissing you for more than three seconds.”

“Yeah, because I totally want to make out with you in front of everyone.” You only get a glare in response. “Okay, fine. No kisses longer than three seconds. Are you okay with holding hands and hugging?”

“Sure, that’s pretty normal. I could kiss your cheek or forehead when it feels necessary too.”

“Cool. I’ll even lay my head on your shoulder if I get tired or something, but I do that anyway.”

“And how’d we start dating?” He questions, “That’s probably pretty important to know.”

“We kissed that night at the bar, right? Let’s just say that’s when we realized our feelings for each other. Keep everything as close to the truth as possible so this doesn’t get even more out of hand. Deal?” You stretch your hand out for him to shake.

“Deal.”

Reluctantly, the two of you head into the kitchen. Dustin’s already seated at the table; his breakfast barely touched. Your mother hums to herself, fixing the last of the bacon on the stove.

“Morning, love birds!” She sings as the two of you take your seats. You almost cringe, you watch Luke gulp before sending a smile her way. It seemed only right that you told your mother and Dustin that Luke was more than just your roommate after telling Steve. Now, she won’t shut up about it, you wish you never said anything at all. “Did you sleep well?” She asks, setting the rest of the food onto the table.

“Always do.” You smile, beginning to fix your plate. You didn’t, between Luke’s tossing and turning and the ball of anxiety waiting to unravel at any given moment, it’s surprising you got an hour of sleep at all. When you look up, your mother is already grinning at you. “What?”

“I was wondering how long it’d take before you both fell in love. I’m just so happy the two of you finally made it official.” Luke chokes on his orange juice beside you, you can’t help but stare at her with your mouth agape. “Oh god, have we not said the ‘L’ word yet?”

“Anyways, Dustin!” You cheer, desperate to have the conversation not centered around you. “Will we be seeing Suzie at all over break?”

“She lives in Utah, Y/N,” He says with an eyeroll, “In what world would I be seeing her.”

“I don’t know,” You shrug, “Everyone else is with their boyfriend or girlfriend, I thought maybe you would be too.”

“The only person who brought someone home is you.” Dustin says, poking at his food with his fork, maybe you hit a nerve.

“That’s not true, Steve brought Margot.” Dustin’s head snaps up, ignoring anything that held his attention before.

“Who’s Margot?”

“Steve’s girlfriend apparently. You didn’t know either?” You ask sharing a glance with Luke.

“That son of a bitch—” He cringes before your mother can even ridicule him. “I knew he had a fling. I didn’t know they made it official. Or that he’d bring her home.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I knew jack shit about this girl.” Your mother throws her hands into the air with a huff at her children’s bad manners. You and Dustin stifle a laugh while she excuses herself from the table to get ready for work. “We’re about to meet Robin and do some last minute Christmas shopping before tonight, wanna come with?”

“No thanks, I’m helping Erica fix her laptop today.” Dustin says finishing his last few bites of food.

“You’re still coming to Steve’s tonight though, right?”

“No shit, it’s tradition.” He says taking his plate to the sink. You can’t help but smile. Even after all these years, Christmas traditions with your family of misfit friends hasn’t changed.

An hour or so later, you find yourself pulling into the Starcourt parking lot. Two years ago, you hated this place, it was always crowded and too loud. It didn’t help that you worked for shit pay at the Gap, all your time seemed to be spent at this place. Sure, it was new and exciting when it first opened, but the glamor quickly wore off after about three shifts.

You suppose it wasn’t all bad, though. Steve would always bring you a scoop of your favorite ice cream on his break or you’d hang out in a booth with him and Robin on yours. You never stopped making fun of their uniforms, Steve’s contact photo is still him in that stupid sailor hat.

“You’re telling me a town this size has a mall this big?” Luke asks trailing towards the entrance behind you.

“Yeah, apparently in the 80s people thought that Russians infiltrated Hawkins, but the conspiracy was never proven.” You laugh. He doesn’t get another word in before you spot Robin, the two of you already sprinting towards each other’s arms. As always, you greet each other with hugs and squeals earning concerned glances from fellow shoppers.

“It’s been too long!” Robin smiles, pulling away from the embrace.

“It gets harder every time we say goodbye.” You agree before quickly introducing Luke and your best friend.

The three of you shop for way too long and spend far too much money. Each of you have a handful of bags and aching feet by the time you find a quiet booth in Scoops, a tradition after every shopping excursion.

“The outfits look even worse these days.” You comment, setting down your purchases onto the tile by your feet.

“I’m sure mine and Steve’s belong to someone else now, they rarely ever buy new ones.” She says taking the seat across from you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust, but the dingy yellow shirts that you swear were once white only confirm her statement. “Hey, while we have some time alone, can we talk about your boyfriend for a sec?”

When you look at her, the normal smirk isn’t present on her features, the glint of mischief is absent from her eyes. Your stomach churns, you’re tempted to breakdown right here, to come clean and tell her everything’s a lie. It’s hard enough lying to one best friend, you hate lying to them both.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“And please don’t take this the wrong way, I’m only saying this because I love you.” You shift uncomfortably in the metal chair. Robin never outwardly says she loves you, not unless she’s drunk. You glance over to Luke, he’s too preoccupied leaning on the counter talking to a boy with floppy hair to even notice. “Do you think there’s any way he could be—”

“Gay? I know.” You laugh, or try to that is. A part of you feels relieved, to have at least one other person know the secret you’ve been carrying for the past twenty-four hours, to have another person on your side. At the same time, you’re terrified. Of course, Robin knows all about your crippling feelings for Steve, she’s known almost since the day you met. She’s had her fair share of ‘Steve Talk’ at sleepovers or on phone calls. You don’t know what you’ll do if she’s angry you lied to her about it, that she had to figure it out for herself.

“Oh, thank god,” She sighs, shoulders slouching as relief spreads through them, “I really thought you were blinding dating him and had no idea.” She pauses abruptly, cocking her head to the side, “Is this because of Steve?”

“Why would—”

“Alright, this one’s for you,” Luke interrupts, setting Robin’s order in front of her. “And this one’s for you.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek as he sits down. Robin purses her lips at the sight, trying her hardest not to laugh.

“We’ve been outted.” You say, digging your spoon into an already melting ice cream cup.

“Fuck, already?”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, although Robin’s already shaking her head.

“Everyone in this town is oblivious. They wouldn’t know a gay person if one was standing in front of them,” She gestures towards herself, “Clearly.”

You try to laugh, but you can’t even find the energy to muster a smile. On day one of this charade, it’s already crashing around you. If you couldn’t lie to Robin, to make it believable enough to her, how could you to Steve? The person that knows you better than anyone, who can spot one of your lies from a mile away. It’s starting to look more impossible and more unbearable with each passing second.

“Hey, I’m not going to tell anyone.” She reaches across the table, patting your hand in efforts to put your mind at ease.

“Silver Cat?” You ask, cocking a brow her way.

“Well I assumed so.” She rolls her eyes, waving her hand in dismissal.

“Wait, Silver Cat? What the fuck is that?” Luke looks between the two of you, waiting for someone to fill him in.

“It’s our code. Basically, if someone calls Silver Cat, nobody else in the party can know. No matter what, it stays just between us.” Robin explains.

“We rarely use it. It’s for our most top secrets. Like when I told her about my crush on Steve, I called Silver Cat.” Luke nods along understanding, “It’s only used between us, Dustin and Steve. We used to have a whole saying but that’s is the only thing that stuck.” The three of you begin to eat your ice cream in silence, each of your thoughts elsewhere.

“I’m sorry, I have to ask,” You blurt, “Why did you think this had to do with Steve?” Not that any of this made sense, this whole thing is a shit show from start to finish. But maybe that part makes the least sense of all.

“I assumed you met Margot.” Truthfully, you don’t know what answer you were expecting, you could’ve come up with hundreds of responses, but that wouldn’t have made the list.

“Am I the only one that didn’t know this girl existed?” You can’t tell whether you’re more sad or angry. It’s like everyone is a part of one huge joke, all watching and laughing from the outside.

“Well, I don’t think Nancy and Johnathon know.” She tries to make it lighthearted, maybe even make you laugh. It doesn’t work.

“Yeah, that makes me feel better.” You roll your eyes, pushing away the ice cream that remains, your appetite disappearing all at once. Across from you, Robin shifts in her seat. She focuses too intently on the table in front of her.

“He called Silver Cat too.” She admits. You want to ask more, to try your best to prod more information out of her. But that’s not how the code works, each of you made that very clear almost two years ago. The only thing you can do, is drop the subject entirely. “All I can say is,” She continues, even though it’s against the rules and you both know it. “She wasn’t supposed to come home for Christmas.”

You spend the rest of the day in a daze, your mind clouded with matters far beyond faking a relationship. You know you shouldn’t, nobody can be mad when someone uses the code, you were the one who came up with that rule. You always thought Steve would somehow end up finding out about your feelings and get mad at everyone else in the party. It wouldn’t be their fault for keeping your secret, so you thought of a loophole. You never would’ve thought it’d be used against you. And even though you parted ways with Robin hours ago, you still hear her words in your head. The conversation has been on repeat, like a song you can’t stop hearing no matter what you try.

“You okay?” Luke nudges you as you make your way up the steps to Mr. and Mrs. Harrington’s front door.

“I will be.” You shrug. You can’t bring yourself to move towards the doorbell or even knock.

“We don’t have to do this tonight, we can say I got sick or something.” He offers.

“Even if you were sick, I’d still come. The four of us take traditions very seriously.”

“Wow, thank god we’re not real. You’d be a terrible girlfriend.” You offer a quiet laugh. With a final deep breath, you interlock fingers with Luke’s. He gives you a reassuring squeeze as you knock.

It doesn’t take long for the door to open. You half expect it to be Robin, for her to be there to soften the blow. She’d whisper a joke in your ear to ease your nerves or immediately hand you some sort of liquor. You don’t know how you’ll survive the night without one.

Part of you thought it’d be Steve, that would only make since. He’d smile and you’d try not to swoon. He’d give you a welcoming hug and say he missed you despite seeing you the day before. You didn’t, however, think it’d be Margot.

“Hello!” She sings, full of energy. She catches you off guard, pulling the two of you in a hug. It doesn’t last long, but even in the quick exchange you can smell her perfume, vanilla and something citrusy. You can even smell the trace of Steve, the same cologne he’s worn since high school. It makes your stomach recoil.

You don’t have enough time to dwell on the thought, she’s already pulling you inside talking a mile a minute, you can hardly keep up with her words as she drags you to the living room. “I’m so excited for tonight. I love looking Christmas lights. When we were on our way here, I saw all of them on the houses. They weren’t lit of course, but I think they’ll be pretty. Oh, we also made eggnog, it’s spiked but there’s more brandy on the counter if you like it stronger.” You glance at Robin, sitting on the sofa already nursing her drink. She only smiles with a light shake of her head.

“Oh, yum,” You say once you come to a stop.

“Sorry, I’m a little excited. I’m so glad you guys are here, I can’t wait to get to know you both.” She offers a bashful smile that you can’t help but return.

It’s here you realize you have nothing against her. It’s not her fault she’s dating the man you’re in love with, she had no way of knowing that. It’s also not her fault he didn’t tell you. Maybe, your anger has been spent on the wrong person, blinded by your feelings for Steve.

“We can’t wait either.” You grin, gesturing between yourself and Luke.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” She rushes to a bag discarded on the floor, rummaging through it for a moment before pulling out clothing. “We got everyone ugly Christmas sweaters for the gift exchange,” She says handing them to you and Luke, “We didn’t know your size, Luke, so if it’s too big, blame me.”

“You guys didn’t have to do that,” You say as Steve makes his entrance down the stairs. “Thank you.” You’re not sure what washes over you as you pull her into a hug. Maybe it was to make her feel welcome. Maybe it was for Steve, to show your support to their relationship or maybe make him feel guilty about keeping it a secret. Maybe it was to keep up the charade, to make it more believable.

“Well, glad to see everyone’s getting along,” Steve smiles, pulling you into his arms. “Missed you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You laugh, giving him two single pats on the back.

You let everyone mingle while you excuse yourself to the kitchen, heading straight for the liquor. You make two drinks for you and Luke, adding a generous amount of brandy into your cup. At this point, you don’t even care if it tastes good, all you know is you can’t be completely sober this evening.

“Yikes, rough day?” Steve asks when he enters, leaning against the counter. You only shrug, bringing the cup to your lips. “There’s no way that tastes good.” His nose scrunches in disgust as he watches you drink.

“I’ve had worse.” He was right though, it tastes disgusting, but it’ll do the trick. “Dustin can’t make it, he called earlier saying Erica’s laptop was taking longer than he expected.”

“That little shit,” Steve shakes his head, “I knew he’d bail.”

“I don’t blame him, he’s always around couples between Mike and Lucas.” This morning, the thought of Dustin not being there would’ve stung, but you don’t really want to be here either.

Everything is starting to feel more like a burden rather than tradition. With Margot and Luke thrown into the mix, it’s not as meaningful as it was two years ago. “Plus, now we can all fit comfortably in a car.”

It’s colder outside than what you expected. You stand alone in the driveway as everyone else slowly puts on their coats inside. You can’t help but stare at the passenger seat, remembering all the moments you spent sitting in that very spot.

They were the ones you held closest to your heart. The ones where Steve would sing offkey to his playlists and you’d air guitar every solo. The ones where you’d sit in parking lots and talk for hours about anything and everything because there wasn’t anything else to do in this town. Or last Christmas, when the two of you screamed the lyrics to every Christmas song with Dustin and Robin begging for you to shut up from the back. The four of you ate decorated cookies and drank hot chocolate and rated your favorite houses. Just last year feels like a lifetime ago, you wish more than anything you could go back.

Everyone makes their way out eventually, their noses already turning red from the cold, each of them are desperate to get into the warmth of Steve’s car. Margot makes her way to the passenger seat, unknowingly and out of habit you assume. You watch as Steve looks between the two of you, about to protest. You shake your head, reluctantly taking the middle seat in the back.

The drive is awkward to say the least. Without Dustin’s blabbering, nobody says much of anything. It’s not like last year, the music isn’t loud, there’s no singing, nobody gets excited when you pass a lit house. Steve glances at you through the rearview. Sorry. He mouths, you only shrug, purposely avoiding his gaze and the way that his hand wraps around Margot’s in her lap. Even the brandy wasn’t making this night any more bearable.

“So, Margot,” You begin, unable to take the silence any longer. “What are you studying?”

“I’m studying early childhood education!” She grins, “I want to be a kindergarten teacher. I think children are so… imaginative, I love seeing how they think about things and I want to help them grow as people. Or try to at least.”

“I think you’d be perfect for the job,” You answer truthfully, giving her a reassuring smile. “Are you still studying criminal justice, Steve?” His brows furrow, cocking his head slightly.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He takes his eyes off the road, locking them with yours.

“Just asking a question, it’s not like you tell me anything anymore.” You didn’t mean to say it, you also didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh. You aren’t trying to hurt his feelings or get under his skin, it just slipped out. Robin chokes beside you, sinking into her seat as if it’d make her disappear.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks. You don’t answer, crossing your arms and pointedly looking out the window. You can still feel his eyes on you, but he doesn’t push any further. Nobody speaks for the rest of the drive.

You aren’t sure how you made it home, you must’ve fallen asleep in the back of the car. The alcohol caught up to you, only making your head throb as your body is lowered onto your familiar sheets. “Steve?” You call but he doesn’t respond. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that back in the car.” You whisper as blankets are pulled up to your chin. “I love you.”

“I’m sure he loves you too.” You don’t need to open your eyes to know it’s Luke. Your body wilts, you wish you could cry but the tears don’t come. You know drunken confessions never end up well, you’re sure it’s better this way. But you wish Steve could’ve heard, it would’ve been easier that way.

Forever Tags: @superfrankie111 // @rueinn // @lemonadeorange73 // @simplechicwithacrazedheart // @youshutthefuckupville // @captainpeggy40 // @alexdamereysmith // @llatpdnmm // @dummiesshort // @quaksonhehe

Steve Tags: @empathetic-vibrations // @loulouloueh

Series Tags: @daddystevee

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x henderson!reader #Steve harrington x you #Steve harrington fic #steve harrington series #Steve harrington au #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #Steve harrington x fem!reader #fake dating au #modern au

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trillian-anders · 4 years

Text

true love

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: fluff && smut, bucky being a cheeky little shit and soft boy

word count: 2.7k

description: stripper au; bucky is a tease and honestly just such a gooey romantic. just a little snapshot.

A strip club before hours. Inside you’d find the dancers stretching, practicing new routines and a loop of the same song over and over again until they were satisfied or being forced to move onto something else. The servers are wiping down tables, setting up for bachelorette parties and straightening the chairs around the main stage. The host was cleaning the mirrors and the front door with Windex, knowing that they would just be covered with prints from hands and fingers an hour into the night.

The bar was being stocked, backup bottles. Fruit was being cut and sangria being prepped. Gallons of it. The clientele loved sangria. The cocktail of the night, special for the bride to be prepped for the bachelorette party, paid for in advance by the bottle. A sugar bomb of midori sour and vodka, cherries and club soda. Neon green and toxic, it made you gag just mixing it together.

It was the same thing every night. Another bachelorette party, another batch mixed drink, another stack of ones ready to be switched out for bigger bills the clients needed to break in order to stuff those dollar bills in the g-string of one of the many handsome performers that would take the stage tonight.

A destination strip club under the same corporation that owned Magic Mike, just on the east coast. It would be busy. But you and the other three bartenders were ready, the money was good here. Too good for you to ever consider leaving. And since the clientele was made in its entirety women and gay men, you felt safe working there. No sleazy guy on his sixth bud lite wanting to grab your ass as you cleaned up after his spilled beer. Granted some of the clients were still hellish, but you’d take not getting groped over being sexually harassed by bar patrons any day.

The lights would drop low soon, music pumping through the speakers as the DJ finishes setting up his booth. The endless grind from 8pm to 3am that would leave you ready for some diner food and bed.

“Boys!” You call, “What do you want?” Allowed a start of work drink, you called to the men standing on the stage.

“Anything you wanna give me sugar.” You glare at the first man to respond, his cheeky grin knowing how much you hated it when he called you sugar, how patronizing.

“Okay, everyone but Bucky,” You laugh, “What do you want?” The man in question slipping off the stage to walk over and help distribute shots.

“Why are you always so mean to me?” Pouting and arms crossed on the bar. You roll your eyes pouring the requests of green tea shots across the board. And an extra-large one for you and your favorite performer.

“Why are you always so annoying?” A rebuttal. But he loved it. He always does. Your shot glass clinking against his, tapping on the bar top and shot back in two.

“I love you.” He hums, stealing a kiss. The tip of his tongue brushing your bottom lip softly before pulling away and setting his shot glass in yours.

“I love you too.” A shared grin. “Have fun tonight.”

“Oh I will.” He’s cheeky, but it’s a part of him that you found so endearing.

A story you’re sure you’d tell the grandkids, how you met him in the first place. Back when you first started working here. He’d already been performing for a while. Back when you were waiting tables and having to deal with the sloppy drunk clients without a buffer of service bar in between.

Truly romantic how he’d been grinding himself against a woman in a bridal sash and giving you the same cheeky grin that he gives you now. You watched him grip himself through the silk thong and tripped and spilled your tray over a table and all the clients sitting there. An order to go get some air and you cried in the alley behind the building thinking that you were going to get fired and when his set was finished he came looking for you.

“They’re not going to fire you,” He soothed, pulling you into his arms, “You’re gonna be just fine.” You choked out nasty sobs into his chest, the thin zip hoodie he was wearing doing nothing to disguise the firm bare flesh underneath, you maybe pretended to have the need to be held a little longer than you actually did.

That incident was something he carefully held over your head to this day, a funny jab, especially after a night of seeing stars and loud moans. The paint chipped and wall worn where the headboard slammed into it. He wouldn’t paint over it as a matter of pride. A story of his sexual prowess and ability to bend you in half and make you cum so hard that you blackout or cry split on his dick.

He’d convinced you to go back into the club after you calmed down, he bought you a drink after the shift had ended, and then ate you out on his couch after you’d had pancakes at the diner below his apartment. And you’d been in love ever since.

That sick, ooey-gooey, no you hang up kind of love.

“You guys are so gross.” Nat bumped her hip against yours, grabbing the remaining shot glasses and sitting them in the dishwasher. You laugh.

The night began with body paint and blacklights. A steady pump of bass as each performer took the stage, they made their rounds around the room. Back curtains closing for private dances. The bar was full and service bar was popping, the tickets endless. The tip jar stuffed full. A good night. As bachelorette parties often were. They would take up a nice little section, the rest of the walk-ins and birthday parties, etc. taking up the rest of the space.

You could feel his eyes on you, the little games he liked to play at work. He knew you would look at him. The way he danced on stage, sinking down to let someone stick a dollar on his hip. The way he grabbed himself to the squeals of women.

The fucking tease, tugging his lip and meeting your eye. A playful smirk. Watching you shake a drink.

The first time he played this game was the day after he made you cum on his tongue, then his fingers, then his cock. Twice. As you wait tables, he would give you that little smirk, the grind of his hips, a brush against you as you walked around him with your tray. A playful tug on your skirt.

It would end with his back on the wood floor of his apartment, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise while you rode yourself to orgasm. Knees red and sore. And continue after eating a snack on his kitchen floor, your back now on the linoleum and your knees pressed to your chest while you dug your fingernails into his biceps and down his back. Something hastily fixed with concealer for his next performance.

Your friends outside of work didn’t quite understand how you could deal. “How could you be okay with him grinding himself over other people all night?” But you knew one thing more than anything else,

Bucky Barnes was such a simp.

He fucking loved you. And you knew it. He would never let you forget it. Bucky Barnes was the most affectionate, needy, clingy, I would die for you and all you have to do is ask kind of guy. He was the kind of guy to tell you that he missed you when you just went to the store. The kind of guy that would hop in the shower with you just because he wanted to wash your hair.

“I’m not worried.” You would laugh, “Not in the slightest.” And you knew you didn’t have to be. If the way he would hop up on your bar and tug on your hair mid dance was anything to say, him stuffing bills into your bra while you let a girl do a body shot out of his belly button. You didn’t care as much as those dollars and groping hands on his thick thighs you loved to ride would be paying your rent later.

These clients may be groping him now, but later on it’s your thighs that his head will be between.

It’s their money that will be sitting on your living room floor while both of you unwrinkled the freshly washed money. Their money you would use to buy groceries and pay for your portion of the family vacation you were going on in a few months with the Barnes clan.

The shift ends and you’re left cleaning up. With three other pairs of hands it’s quick work, but burning the ice takes a minute, long enough for Bucky to already be sitting down in front of the bar and sorting your tips out for you, sipping on an after shift drink the two of you were sharing.

“We going to Norma’s?” As the other men sunk down behind the bar, a few waving their goodbyes on their way out the door.

“Sam.” Bucky looked at his friend, “We go to Norma’s every night and every night you ask if we are going.”

“It’s because he likes that waitress.” Nat grinned, flipping the dishwasher on to run the bar mats. A glare from Sam,

“I love that waitress.” The bumbling idiot fawned over her and always tipped her $50 on his $8 patty melt. A shared laugh,

“You’ve asked her out, how many times now?” Steve, thankful for the leftover sangria in front of him, took a sip.

“Just like four, five maybe.” Bucky lifted the pint glass, salt lining the rim and a few granules left on his bottom lip. “This margarita is good sweetheart.” A recipe you found online, something new you’d wanted to try. You hum, taking a sip and nodding. “She doesn’t like you.” Directed at Sam. “You need to stop making her job so difficult, you’re a creep.”

“Am I a creep?” Sam looks between you and Nat. The two of you sharing a look and nodding.

“No one wants to get hit on while they’re working.” You laugh, “That’s all.” He huffs, leaning against the back of the bar stool.

“You guys got any of that neon shit left?” The last little bit of the bachelorette slosh at the bottom of the Cambro. Poured in a glass for him with an apologetic smile.

“I already burned the ice.” He muscled it down.

Bucky’s hand in your back pocket with you tucked into his side you entered the familiar diner and slipped into your usual booth, a playful squeeze to your ass before you sunk down next to each other. Sam, Nat, and Steve across.

His hand settles on your thigh as the waitress Sam was in love with brought over two pitchers of water and glasses, more to make her job easier because these boys were thirsty at the end of the night after performing for hours on end.

A minute later she’d return with a couple sodas and take the order. Sam looking dutifully down at his phone and trying to avoid her eyes.

“You can act like a normal person.” You laugh, our leg going across Bucky’s thigh. “You’re acting like even more of a weirdo.”

“Just relax.” Nat’s hand smoothed over Sam’s arm and he lets out a deep breath. “Don’t be weird.” Easier said than done, he took the fact that you told him not to flirt with her as erasing his whole personality.

“You’ve ruined him.” Steve sipped his water, “The both of you.” A pout to stern Dad-Steve, and he rolled his eyes with a smirk, leaning against the booth and throwing an arm over the back. “He’ll never be able to perform again.”

“Fuck all of you.” Sam glared as peals of laughter broke out at the table. A shift as you felt Bucky’s fingers play with the hem of your shorts. Dipping under a little bit. Your hand slips down and grabs his, pulling his hand away with a playful glare.

“Stop.” Whispered between you as Sam pretended to cry and Nat seemed about done with it.

“I wanna play.” A kiss on your lips. You shake your head and roll your eyes, directing your attention back to your friends.

“Later.”

Later would find him on his back lips red bitten and swollen from kissing as you yank his jeans down his legs, leaving him in just his briefs, the hard outline of his cock pressing against them. Your shorts and panties tugged down your legs, crawling over him to hover over his face. His arms wrapping around your thighs and bringing you down to his mouth.

The grind of your hips on his tongue and the rough stubble burning your thighs. Those moans vibrating against your clit, panting moans coming from your mouth as you grip the headboard and find the friction your need to cum. Working out your aftershocks on his tongue.

A shift of position would find your back against the mattress, your legs over his arms and hooked into his elbows, the blunt head of his cock circling your entrance with the teasing roll of his hips. His mouth against yours, sucking on your tongue and tugging your bottom lip between his teeth.

He starts off slow. A gasp into his mouth as he bottoms out, the tip of him brushing your cervix before he pulls almost all the way out, playing with short and fast thrusts against your g-spot. This was his major source of pride, having you drooling and stupid with lust under him, eyes rolling and nails digging into his back, clawing at his biceps, twisted in the sheets by your head while he rolls one of your nipples on his tongue.

The headboard slamming as you gush around his cock, the signal he needs to start thrusting in deeper to chase his own pleasure. Leaning back onto his heels and pressing your legs together, wrapping his arm around them and laying a kiss to your ankle. His red mouth panting as his hips slapped against yours. Your fingers dipping between your bodies to slap against your clit a couple times, the pleasure being too much. He pushes your hand out of the way, hand laying over your mons and thumb pressing against your clit, moving in tight circles.

“So fucking good for me baby.” A pant against your calf. “One more.” A groan, “Just one more.” You sob from the over-sensitivity as he brought you to one more orgasm, the towel laid out on the bed being put to good use as you squirt on his cock. His hips not relenting until you feel him cum, your legs shaking on his shoulders.

A kiss to your ankles. His hands massaging your legs as you come down. He lays himself on top of you, shifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he meets your lips once, twice, soft, “I love you.” And then with his head on your chest. You reason in that moment, and in every moment, that he was the best thing that ever happened to you.

Finding the club was the best thing that ever happened to you.

“You’re just so handsome.” Your hand on your fist, resting your elbow on the table, looking at him in admiration.

He grins around the lip of his coffee cup and softly massages your foot that was in his lap. The morning found you in the same diner as the night previous, enjoying what would be lunch for other people, but breakfast for the two of you.

“You’re just so beautiful.” His hand meeting yours on the table, a soft squeeze. “I love you.” Bringing his hand to your lips,

“I love you too.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #steve rogers #captain america #sam wilson #natasha romanov #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

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calypsoff2 · 2 years

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Forty One. Part 5

Watching Chris and Herb just dancing in the club being dumb as per usual, just to see Chris smiling the way he does brings me great joy, how he smoothly just gave me his phone. Chris really meant it that he wouldn’t ever cheat on me, he meant those words and I appreciate him so much, I didn’t ever doubt him but it’s one of those things where you need to not get comfortable sometimes, there will always be another Saweetie, another younger more beautiful me. Women have no loyalties; they do not care for who I am. They want to make a name for themselves and ruin my daughter’s family, I will not let that happen and also my husband wouldn’t, he’s so in love with me and I’m literally choked up about it “Robyn” Chris said, looking at him and then his hand. Taking the blunt from him “what’s wrong?” He moved away from Herb, I laughed out “nothing” I mouthed shaking my head, Chris clearly isn’t taking my word for it as he crouched down to me “you have been drinking, you get all emotional. Talk to me” I just laughed shrugging “thinking about how much I just love you” I managed to say “nothing big” Chris laughed at me, he is an ass “annoying” hitting his shoulder “it’s ok, I love you too. Shall we go to the bar next door” he moved up and pecked my lips, nodding my head. Now I am the one drinking, I need to relax and have some fun at the bar next door. Placing the blunt between my lips “let’s go, we can have a good time next door” Chris said, I am such a wreck for what. There is no reason to be like this, but drinking does make me feel emotionally horny, so let’s do this.

The bar is what I assumed would be smaller booths where we can privately do this, but clearly not, doesn’t bug me and it’s nice to see others singing “I feel like I am judging a talent show” I leaned into Jen, she chuckled “I have the beautiful Rihanna here, this moment is very special to me. My idol Rihanna, wow. So this song is for you” I laughed shaking my head “my husband is right there but I am gay for you Rihanna, I’m really gay for you” the whole bar just fell into a fit of laughter “and this song, is for you” nodding my head trying to take this very seriously “DJ play the song” this girl is drunk as shit, Tina Turner started playing “because Rihanna you are simply the best” she pointed at me, I giggled to myself “thank you” I mumbled “I got some competition” Chris sat next to me “you have and I want you to sing from your heart, alone or together?“ I asked Chris “alone, I got this” I’m glad he said that “well guess what, me and Herb are teaming up” Chris gasped “now y’all teaming up on me but I got you” the music cut off “next!” The girl didn’t even finish off, but she is falling on herself, so they cut her off “Chris, you’re next” the guy at the bar said, looking at my husband smiling “go on then, the mic is yours boo” it’s nice to see him go on stage, he got up from the chair “don’t all shout at once” he said laughing, I started cheering for him “hi, I’m Chris Brown. You may know for being Rihanna’ husband, but what I’m most known for is getting separation papers handed to me by Rihanna, see y’all know in the back. I’m stupid, I get it. But this song, it’s dedicated to my wife, I know boring but if I didn’t then she will be moody with me” my smile grew, he’s already making me giggle “but like on a real, she is Rihanna, but she is Robyn to me, I love her so much, I do. So yeah. I can’t sing so please be kind” I feel so giddy right now “When your legs don't work like they used to before, and I can't sweep you off of your feet. Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love, will your eyes still smile from your cheeks. And darling I will be loving you 'til we're seventy, and baby my heart could still fall as hard at twenty three. And I'm thinking 'bout how, people fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just the touch of a hand. Oh me I fall in love with you every single day. And I just wanna tell you I am” I am a mess; I hate him for this. This is so fucking cute “bitch” Tina is recording me crying.

Chris is a cutie for that but now it’s my turn, I have been crying and I am a mess “I can’t wait to grow old with you” hugging him close “I love you” pecking his lips “I think it’s an unfair advantage, Rihanna is a singer” Jah pointed out, turning around to the crowd and they are all staring “who said she can sing” I gasped at Chris, how rude of him “I’m playing” bringing the mic up “I just want to say a big thank you to people that haven’t hounded me, it’s like I’m out with friends. This is all for fun and I am enjoying myself so much and my husband, hearing him sing what he sung, means a lot. But Herb, let them know what we are singing” I smiled at him, Herb is so excited “this is my first debut with Rihanna, I’m gonna need y’all to put it together for Murder INC” Herb is making me laugh “oh my god” shaking my head, Herb and I decided to sing Always on Time. I let Herb pick the song “Baby, I'm not always there when you call, but I'm always on time and I gave you my all, now baby, be mine. I'm not always there when you call, but I'm always on time and I gave you my all, now baby, be mine” I sang laughing “C'mon and get a piece of this late-night lover. You know, the one that swing dick like no other I know, I got a lot of things I need to explain” Chris pointed at Herb as he rapped his part which made me giggle, he chose this not me.

Back at the hotel with everyone and I can honestly say we have come back not drunk, that was the intention. I wanted us to have a nice and fulfilled day tomorrow and honestly it’s nice to remember the night “to be not drunk is better” Jah admitted “good! I think I want an early night” I grinned “oh boy” Jen said, Chris is looking rather handsome, I want to ride him “erm, boys. Can I break this up?” trying to get between them both “I just need to watch the highlights from the game” is he real “but I am horny” frowning at him “I am too but for some Lebron action” I scoffed walking off “not Rihanna being rejected, I mean I would chose Lebron over you too” pushing Jah’ head “I am going to have a early night, tomorrow is going to be long” twirling around to see if Chris cares and he doesn’t, frowning at him “I am going to sleep naked by the way” staring at Chris and he isn’t listening “girl move” I scoffed turning away and walking off, they are so annoying. How can you not want sex with your wife, I am literally offering myself on the table.

Feeling a tap on my shoulder “Robyn” hearing Chris say, he can leave me alone. I heard his ass come into the bedroom “Robyn” shrugging him off “leave me alone” I wanted sex and he didn’t deliver at all “why? Come on baby, I love you. I am here now” Chris pressed kissed to the back of my shoulder lightly “come on, are you naked” sticking my butt out moving him “maybe” Chris chuckled “no don’t laugh, you’re annoying” turning onto my back “how am I annoying? I literally sang beautifully to you and you are doing this? Come, let me see some nipple” pulling the covers up close to my body smiling at him “why are you are being so cute, I just wanted to see the game, that is all and now I am here with you” he isn’t seeing no nipple so good luck to him trying “I love you, I have found a place where we can discuss fertility by the way, I thought we would check it out” letting the covers go “that is nice, I really want to have that boy. I feel like I can only produce girls” I think that sometimes “you mean beautiful black queens, it’s going to be fun to see them grow up, I am excited. I like being a girl dad. But I think maybe, I don’t know I feel like maybe your mother is right? We are playing god” rolling my eyes “don’t let my mother put anything in your mind, that woman doesn’t have sense and can be selfish” Chris chuckled, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead “imagine us with four kids, not going to lie I didn’t see me having that many. I thought maybe two and that was it but when you’re in love, you just end up wanting more” Chris chuckled and leaned down to kiss my lips, Chris didn’t wait to pull the covers away from my body.

I lifted my legs straight up, placing my legs on each side of his shoulder, Chris being Chris “you have such good feet, like they are amazing” he is so annoying “leave them, please” I pleaded with him “please” I said again, he of course pressed kisses to my feet “stop!” I was about to yank them away from him, but he grabbed my calves, he slid his hands up along my thighs, his palms tracing my flesh. I felt a jolt of energy vibrate through me as his wrists hit the line of my hips. He mapped my upper body, not missing an inch, I lifted my arms until I had my fingers linked behind his neck “ah” Chris said smirking, I was in the perfect V. He leaned forward, lifting his hips, and slowly guided himself into me, taking his time, my parted lips, my eyes half-lidded and glassy. I moaned, my head gently rolling back until my long hair tickled my back, sending shiver down my spine “fuck Chris” I rocked my hips “this feels good” I gasped, Chris didn’t even enter me fully and I was saying this already, he shoved himself inside of me fast and hard. Faster, and harder. In and out. And in. And out. So many times, and so fast that I thought I was going to spin out of control “ahh!” I screamed out, Chris isn’t giving me a chance to even stop him, I am gasping.

And then he stilled, pulling almost completely out of me before slowly sliding back in. Our mouths met again, his tongue exploring, spreading my lips apart, seeking my tongue. As he was asulting my mouth, he slowly gyrating himself inside of me. My body vibrating, my eyes closed, head thrown back, breasts heaving, nipples erect. He picked up his pace, whispering sexy nothings in my ear but I am not comprehending what he is saying when I am about to combust. My rib cage expanded as my breathing became ragged, and with barely a warning, the orgasm echoed throughout my body, my toes curled. I closed my eyes, a barely audible moan rising from my throat before a sound escaped my chest, coming from the deepest part of me. My body is a quivering mess, my brain no longer had control over the muscles of my arms and legs and I am afraid I will fall back. But Chris had me, held me as my body shuddered and quaked and trembled against me, before finally calming, relaxing, recovering from the violent orgasm that had rippled through me.

And when I caught my breath, my eyes met his I was ready for him, he picked up his pace again, thrusting into me, gathering speed. He cried out, my name bouncing off the walls as he came. I gripped him, coaxing every last bit of the orgasm from him. My lips finding his, huffing and puffing. He moaned against my lips; it was a cry more than a moan which took me by surprise but also didn’t break away from the kiss. Once the kiss was broken, he gently took my ankles in both hands and helped lower my feet to the floor. We coiled around each other and just stood here, my head resting against his shoulder, my lips grazing his neck as I nuzzled against him.

The group groaned out “that was so nasty, that kiss was literally so sloppy and nasty. Y’all nasty” Jah complained, licking my lips laughing “nobody stopped y’all bringing the other halves but y’all declined, that is not on me now” Tina started coughing “so nobody heard that huffing and puffing last night?” squinting my eyes at her “no Tina, because people were asleep” she is so damn nosey “actually! Defending myself here, I was literally taking my airpods out and then I hear the squealing, that ain’t on me but Robyn you are so fucking loud, Chris she is loud. Please back me up here” pointing at Chris “no comment” he laughed “the car is outside” Rich announced “good, Tina is uninvited! Let’s go and have some fun” let me divert to conversation “does she also moan off key?” Jah said, “I heard that!” Chris held Herb as he laughed so hard, Herb is giggling like a child “fuck off? Like honestly, I mean it” they all are fucking laughing at me “I think it’s ok” Chris managed it say “bye” I am leaving all of these here “Rich come” Jah cackled out “sorry, I just had too. I love you boo!” he can stick that shit right up his fucking ass.

Theme parks are always fun but then it’s the fact we have to contend with the public which I don’t mind but I wish I would have some privacy with my peers, we are stood at the barriers waiting to go on the Dare Devil ride “are you still not talking to me” looking behind me and at Jah “why would you think I am not huh?” turning to him “because I said something funny? I mean to me it was funny but to you not so much” rolling my eyes “whatever” looking over at Chris and Herb “your man has got fans, I never notice until I was on live, and they were speaking on his country dick” folding my arms across my chest “mhmmm yeah, I am not sure if it’s because he is so loyal. Maybe it’s because he’s off limits, I mean he is handsome but look at them girls” I am stuck with Rich blocking the view from fans and he’s there with the fans just talking to them “yeah, they were talking about VA” Jah said, he says that but they are giggling so what is the truth “but they are laughing, he is being friendly, a little too friendly to say the least” I am not happy, turning away from them “you are not nice, relax” Jah said, he says that but like why has he got fans, for what.

#Chrianna #Chrianna Fanfic #Chrianna Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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spaceskam · 4 years

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ao3

Alex knew he picked a good choice of best friend when Kyle's response to Alex being dumped was to haul him into the car and start the 11 hour drive to Las Vegas.

The whole drive was spent full of Kyle distracting him and hyping him up, stopping by a daiquiri shop on the way there and getting him the largest size. It was a little weird, but Alex found that he was endlessly grateful. He needed this.

"You were too hot for him anyway," Kyle said a few hours in, "You deserve someone who could at least be a model, but not more of a model than you, you feel me?"

"Yeah,* Alex laughed, smiling at him as he sipped his drink, "I feel you."

"But it's all good. We're going to find you a hot piece of ass to rail," Kyle declared, "Or get railed by, I don't judge."

"Jesus Christ, Kyle," Alex laughed, but he just flashed that charming smile and went on with driving.

When they arrived in Vegas, the city was already lit up for the night and Kyle got a hotel room that they didn't stay in for long. He immediately led the way to a casino and paid Alex's way. Whenever Alex tried to refuse the handouts, Kyle insisted and said it was his idea so he would pay.

They spent the next few hours getting drunk and winning little sums of money. $20 here, $5 there, nothing fancy. But Alex was having more fun with Kyle than he had in his entire relationship, so it was easy to get lost in it.

"Alex," Kyle called, catching him by the belt loop and tugging him closer, "Blow on these for good luck."

Alex felt his face flush and a few sets of eyes were on them, but he blew on the set of dice Kyle shoved in his face nonetheless. He watched him throw them onto the table afterwards and a few separate things happened that he didn't quite understand having never been the gambling type. People cheered, though, and Kyle kissed the side of his face without hesitation.

"Told you!" Kyle exclaimed, "Good luck charm. What's his face didn't even know what he had."

Alex felt his face get even hotter and soaked up the praise without question.

Kyle kept him close as they eventually left the casino when they had a solid amount of winnings, taking their tipsy asses to a drag bar a few blocks away. They were let in surprisingly easy for not being dressed up in the slightest. They drank more, talking closer over the loud music and getting absolutely lost in each other's company. Alex felt like the luckiest man in the entire universe.

A few times, Kyle tried to introduce him to men he thought he might be interested in, but Alex always found Kyle significantly more interesting. He didn't mind going to bed alone if it meant just having Kyle. He eventually got that and stopped sending other guys his way, instead accepting drinks from interested parties and sharing them with each other.

"Men suck. All of them. Except maybe you," Alex said confidently, drunk enough to speak his mind but not enough to mess with his balance (for the most part) as they walked down the lively street. Kyle seemed to be on the same level because he smiled, squeezing Alex's hip since he had a grip on him so he wouldn't lose him as they headed towards the hotel. "God, I wish you were gay."

Kyle laughed loudly, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" Alex exclaimed, "You're, like, the only man I've met who understood what, like, growth is."

"What can I say? Therapy is a recommendation in my hospital," Kyle said. Alex snorted. "But glad I could be a good example."

"Yeah," Alex sighed, "You're my favorite person."

"Good," Kyle said, kissing the side of his head for what felt like the billionth time that night, "'Cause you're mine."

They were a block away from the hotel when they came across a 24-hour chapel. Kyle slowed as they neared it and came to a complete stop as he stared at it.

"You wanna get married?" Kyle asked. Alex blinked twice and looked at him.

"Seriously?" Alex said. His mind instantly started trying to be rational. Was he drunk? Was Kyle? What exactly did him asking that mean? Was it a joke? Would it be platonic? Would it be crazy to say yes even if it was?

"Yeah, why not?" Kyle said, looking at him with a fairly reckless smile. It reminded him of young Kyle who had talked him into sneaking into an abandoned house or had spontaneously learned how to do a backflip because he wanted to. He'd gotten a little more responsible since then, but it was nice to see. "Alex Manes deserves to give a nice fuck you to society and I'd love to do the honors of being that fuck you."

And, before Alex could even convince himself to ask questions, he nodded.

"Okay, sure."

Both drunk of hours of alcohol and each other, they found themselves standing in front of a tacky alter with a bouquet of faux flowers in Alex’s hand. They only partially listened to the guy who got his ordination credentials online, instead making teasing faces at each other. Alex felt like he was going to burst out of his skin, feeling a little confused and a little overwhelmed and a lot eager to understand what this meant. Would they frame their marriage license to put his dad’s grave and drink champagne in front of him? Would they use this for shared financial benefits? The healthcare between an Air Force officer and a doctor would be pretty sweet.

Except when the officiant said that they could kiss, Alex didn’t actually expect to Kyle to go for it. Or maybe he did because Kyle seemed to go in for a cheek kiss and Alex turned his head to meet his lips and Kyle just pulled him closer. And then Alex didn’t actually remember the kiss ending.

It was like he blinked and they were back at the hotel, pressed into the corner of the elevator as they shared the alcohol still on their tongues. Then they were in the hotel room, two queen sized beds with a single nightstand between them and Kyle led them towards the one closest to the door to share.

It only stopped when Alex had to take his prosthetic off and, even then, Kyle pressed kisses across his shoulders and up his neck and certifiably destroying Alex’s ability to overthink anything. All he could think about was Kyle and how he wanted to touch him and how they had fucking signed a marriage certificate.

After the prosthetic was off, Kyle grabbed his jaw and sealed them in another kiss, pulling him to lay back on the bed. He seemed like he knew what he was doing and that was equally as confusing as the rest of the things that were happening that night, so he stopped questioning it. He welcomed Kyle’s skin and his touch and his kisses and he only had to help him out with an angle here and there.

It wasn’t until he woke up the next morning plastered into Kyle’s side, naked and warm and finally more sober, that he realized he didn’t understand. More than just that, he was outright confused about everything that had happened. Kyle, his straight friend, had just casually married him and slept with him after he got dumped. Did he do it because he felt bad for him? Did he do it because he was drunk? Did he even remember it?

Alex sat up and looked at him. He was sound asleep still, eyes closed and chest rising and falling with each breath. Tiny bruises that Alex had accidentally put on him were partially hidden under his facial hair. He was gorgeous. And so, so, so not into him like that.

Alex quickly got his prosthetic on and pulled on his clothes before he went into the bathroom, avoiding his reflection as he splashed water on his face. He didn’t want to look at himself, didn’t want to face the fact that he felt like absolutely garbage for what he’d done. The whole “marriage” was blurry, but Alex probably guilted him into it somehow. He didn’t remember, though, and that made it worse.

But, honestly, whatever happened was bad. Kyle was his best friend, the main person he could rely on, his safe space. And he fucked it all up by letting it go too far. He was going to lose his best friend because he couldn’t be responsible.

“Alex?” Kyle’s voice called. Alex’s whole body ached in response, a flood of guilt and shame and desire all hitting him at once.

Kyle was his friend and he ruined it and, yet, he wanted to ruin it more. With him, he had fun and felt wanted and safe. No matter how stupid they were being, Alex never felt like the rug was being pulled out from beneath him. He was just safe. He wanted more of that.

“Hey, you okay in there?” Kyle asked, knocking gently. Alex squeezed his eyes closed. “You hungover? I can go get you something to drink. You like red Gatorade, right?”

Alex huffed a laugh and caved, swinging the door of the bathroom open. Kyle stood on the other side in all his naked glory and, honestly, it was a goddamn trap. It had to be. No one just looked like that casually.

“What happened last night?” Alex asked. Kyle stared at him, blinking a few times in confusion before his eyes widened slightly.

“You were that drunk?” he asked. Alex shook his head.

“No, I remember, I just... don’t,” Alex said, scraping his hands over his face, “I don’t get it. I don’t understand. Why did any of that happen? Did I make you feel like you had to or something?”

“You think I would marry you because I felt like I had to?” Kyle asked, a disbelieving tone in his voice. Alex didn't answer. "Look, it was a stupid ceremony and, and I don't think the license is even notarized officially or filed or whatever, so we can just rip it up and pretend it didn't happen if you want."

"Okay, so we pretend that didn't happen," Alex said loosely, his voice tightening as he got a little more upset and be gestured to the bed they'd shared, "How do we pretend that didn't happen?"

Kyle looked away from him for a second, falling so quiet they could hear the footsteps from the people in the room above them. Alex didn't know what to do.

"You want to forget that happened?" Kyle asked cautiously.

Alex huffed a laugh, “You don’t?”

Kyle was quiet for a long time, so long that Alex was beginning to feel sick. He felt like he drastically misunderstood something or maybe Kyle just was incredible at confusing him. Alex liked kissing him and, sure, the thought had crossed his mind more than once that Kyle would be the perfect boyfriend. Kyle was nice and thoughtful and cared about him. But he never in a million years thought Kyle might’ve thought about it too.

“Yeah, if you want to, sure. We forget it happened,” Kyle said, walking back towards the heart of the room to search for his clothes. Alex’s eyebrows were pulled together as he cautiously followed.

“Kyle, what the fuck is going on?” he asked. Kyle seemed to put an ample amount of attention into buttoning his jeans. “Don’t you want to forget it? I mean, I’d figure you’d want to forget sleeping with a guy.”

Kyle dropped his shirt and turned to face him.

“You must think real highly of yourself if you think I just decided to be bisexual because I wanted to make you feel better,” Kyle stated blatantly, “And you must think really highly of me if you think I was that good on my first try.”

“Wait,” Alex said, holding a hand up as he tried to process his words, “Wait, you...”

“I’m bi? Yes. And was it stupid to hook up with you knowing you just got out of a relationship? Also yes, but I’m not known to make good decisions when it comes to my romantic or sexual relationships, so,” Kyle said, throwing his arms out and letting them fall to his side pathetically.

Alex thought back through the last few months, trying to think back to any of the signs of Kyle realizing that about himself. He couldn’t remember when Kyle ever started acting differently. He was always just Kyle.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Alex asked. Kyle took a long, deep breath.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders, “Probably because I knew if I did, I’d have a lot less things keeping me from trying to marry you on a whim in the middle of Las Vegas.”

“Okay,” Alex said, slowly sitting down on the bed. A few seconds passed before Kyle sat beside him, sighing. Alex eventually looked at him after he processed his words. “You didn’t have to tell me if you weren’t ready. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I’m in love with you, Alex,” Kyle said, so openly that Alex’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head, “I have been for a long time and I’m tired of hiding it. Especially after last night. And if you’re not into me like that, okay, fine, I can take it. I-I need a little space, but we’re friends first and I can learn to stop loving you like that. But I need you to tell me because if you don’t, I’m going to sit and wait for the rest of my life.”

“You know, I didn’t expect this whenever you suggested we drive to Vegas,” Alex said, mind swimming with a million thoughts at Kyle’s confession. Kyle huffed a small laugh, but he didn’t try to add anything.

They sat there for a long time, Kyle letting him think over what he said. It was strange to think that, while Alex was dating idiots who didn’t treat him right, Kyle was just there and waiting for him to notice. It made a mess of the last year, a slew of overthinking every interaction. Was Kyle being nice because he was Kyle, or because he wanted to sleep with him? Or was it just because he loved him? Genuinely, truly loved him and didn’t make him feel like that was a bad thing? Was that a thing someone could do?

“Do you really love me?” Alex clarified after awhile. Kyle gently nudged his knee into Alex’s.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t have said that if I hadn’t thought about it every day for months,” he promised, “I love you and I want what’s best for you, whatever that means. So if you want me to fuck off, I will. If you want me to stay, then I will. Ball’s in your court.”

Alex took a deep breath and looked at him seriously. His handsome features, his honest eyes, the little hickies hidden in his facial hair. Alex wouldn’t mind looking at him forever, especially when that wasn’t all he had to offer.

“Can we do something in the middle?” Alex asked. Kyle waited. “Can we spend this weekend in Vegas being stupid and reckless, but when we got back to Roswell, give me some time to actually get over my last relationship. And then we start from square one? I don’t want you to be a rebound.”

“You don’t want me to be a rebound, but you wanna sleep with me again first?” Kyle clarified. Alex blinked innocently and gave a short nod in response. Kyle just laughed, moving forward back into his space and kissing him again.

Alex wasn’t sure if it was the sobriety, the love confession, or just the lack of confusion in general, but this kiss seemed to transcend all the previous ones. He leaned into it more, letting Kyle just love him openly and honestly.

And he liked that feeling.

#kylex #kylex fic #kyle valenti #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #this is based on a tiktok i saw like a month ago

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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years

Conversation

RP meme from the movie “Dogma”

“I’m as anatomically impaired as a Ken doll.”

“May I continue uninterrupted?”

“Mention something from a Charlton Heston movie and suddenly everyone’s a theology scholar!”

“Read that book again sometime. Women are painted as bigger antagonists than the Egyptians and Romans combined. It stinks.”

“So you were an artist? Big deal.”

“That’s why he’s the King, and you’re a schmuck.”

“ I repeat; this is not a drill. This is the Apocalypse. ”

“ We call this piece "The Fecalator.” One look at it and your target shits him or herself.“

” I just love to fuck with the clergy, man, I just love it.“

"Let’s kill people.”

“Ah, Sweet Jesus! Did you have to use the whole can?!”

“Or you’ll do what exactly? Hit me with that…fish?”

“Honestly, you bottom feeders and your arrogance, you think everybody’s just trying to get in your knickers.”

“Do you go around drenching everybody that comes into your room with flame-retardant chemicals?”

“I am to charge you with a holy crusade.”

“What’s the fine print?”

“I hate when people need it spelled out for them!”

“We’re here to pick up chicks.”

“Well, it’s a lot more compact than the flaming sword, but it’s not nearly as impressive.”

“How am I supposed to strike fear into the hearts of the wicked with this thing? ”

“What work did you do? You lit a few fires.”

“Mass genocide is the most exhausting activity one can engage in, outside of soccer.”

“You’re a man of principle.”

“We figure an abortion clinic’s a good place to meet loose women.”

“You’ll offer us sex as a reward?”

“Fucking Breakfast Club; all these stupid kids actually show up for detention.”

“Movies are fucking bullshit.”

“This is gonna sound really bad. I can’t believe I’m even thinking about this, but…”

"Someone told me I’d meet you and you’d take me some place I was suppose to go.”

“I feel like Han Solo, you’re Chewie, and she’s Ben Kenobi and we’re in that fucked up bar!”

“She’s the slut. Booong!”

“All right, well lets say we’re caught in a situation where we have like five minutes left to live. I don’t know, a bomb or something’s gonna go off; would you fuck us then?”

“Tell me something nobody knows.”

“When you do it, you’re thinking about guys.”

“Wars, bigotry, televangelism.”

“You’re saying having beliefs is a bad thing?”

“My eyes are open. For the first time, I get it.”

“Ours was designed to be a life of servitude and worship, and bowing and scraping and adoration.”

“You know, all I’m saying is that maybe one of us needs a little nap…”

“I think we may have to dispatch our would-be dispatchers.”

“See, don’t let your sympathies get the best of you. They did me, once. ”

“I’ve heard a rant like this before.”

“I have seen what happens to the proud when they take on the throne. ”

“Would you - could you - have believed me? You had to come to it gradually. Only now, after all you’ve seen, could you accept the truth.”

“I don’t want this. It’s too big.”

“It’s unfair! It’s unfair to ask a child to shoulder that responsibility, and it’s unfair to ask you to do the same.”

“I wish I could take it all back. But I can’t. This is who you are.”

“Everything I am is a lie.”

“No one can take that away from you, not even God. ”

“I guess this means no more cheating on my taxes.”

“Come on, demon, I wanna see you try that shit on someone who’s already dead!”

“And the pawns are moving into place as we speak…”

“But then your kind came along, and made it so much worse.”

“But true to his irresponsible nature, man won’t own up to being its engineer, so he blames his dark deeds on my ilk!”

“I’d rather not exist than go back to that…and if everyone has to go down with me, so be it.”

“The whole fucking world’s against us, dude, I swear to God. ”

“If I had a dick, I’d go get laid.”

“I think that God is dead.”

“I can’t wait to die.”

“Do you know what makes a human being decent? Fear.”

“I’m responsible for nineteen of the twenty top-grossing films of all time.”

“The humans have besmirched everything bestowed on them.”

“Don’t you think it’s time we went home?”

“No pleasure, no rapture, no exquisite sin greater… than central air.”

“What the fuck is this shit? Who the fuck are you, lady? Why the fuck did you hug my head? ”

“What the fuck is this, The Piano? Why ain’t this broad talking?”

“You of anyone should know that tits don’t make a woman.”

“But I’m a fuckin’ demon.”

“Guys like us just don’t fall out of the fucking sky, you know.”

“Beautiful, naked, big-titted women just don’t fall out of the sky, you know.”

“You’re Catholic, can’t you talk to them?”

“Consequences schmonsequences.”

“Snootch to the motherfuckin’ nootch!”

“Let it never be said that your anal-retentive attention to detail never yielded positive results.”

“You can’t be anal-retentive if you don’t have an anus. ”

“Ladies and gentlemen, you have been judged guilty of sinning against our almighty God, and I promise you, you shall pay for your trespasses, in blood!”

“I’m feeling a little exposed here…”

“Wings, now!”

“I know they were just kids, but we kicked their fucken pube-less asses!”

“Anyone who isn’t dead or from another plane of existence would do well to cover their ears right about now.”

“Are you saying you believe?”

“I’m telling you, man, this ceremony is a big mistake.”

“Go back to your paper routes, you Mighty Duck fucks.”

“Very basic strategy. If your enemies know where you are, then don’t be there.”

“Your continued existence is a mockery of morality.”

“You’re his father, you sick fuck.”

“You, on the other hand, are an innocent. You lead a good life.”

“You have more skeletons in your closet than the rest of this assembled party. I cannot even mention them aloud.”

“You’re awfully nude.”

“You know, maybe you’re wrong about this slaughter thing.”

“The major sins never change.”

“What, are you insinuating that I don’t have what it takes anymore?”

“Get me a… Holy Bartender.”

“Not born. SHIT into existence.”

“I can take anyone I meet and give a zillion and nine ideas a second, but I can’t keep any for myself.”

“I have issues with anyone who treats God as a burden instead of a blessing.”

“You people don’t celebrate your faith; you mourn it.”

“Your hearts are in the right place, but your brains got to wake up.”

“You were martyred?”

“I can’t believe we forgot about the magazine.”

“Smoke that motherfucker like it ain’t no thang!”

“NOBODY IS FUCKING ME! YOU GOT THAT!?”

“If you don’t pipe down, I’m going to yank your sack off like a paper towel.”

“Your hard-on for smiting has prevented us from negotiating what should be the relatively simple matter of catching or staying on a bus.”

“Well, I say we get drunk, because I’m all out of ideas.”

“Oh no, I’ve seen way too many Bond movies to know that you never reveal all the details of your plan, no matter how close you may think you are to winning.”

“You’re looking at eons of repression getting purged.”

“If only they’d let us jerk off.”

“Quit killing people, that’s high profile.”

“So do you do anal? Is it true that chicks fart if you blast ‘em in the ass?”

“The man was right about you. And I am going to go home and tell him so.”

“Quit leering at me. People are gonna think I just broke up with you.”

“You know, I hear pregnant women can have sex until their third trimester.”

“You’re a pure soul… but you didn’t say "God bless you” when I sneezed.“

"Holy shit, it’s the Pope!”

“Ever the fucking apple polisher!”

“Hey Big Bird! Wanna play the Counting Game? Count the shells, Sucker Duck!”

“Snoogans.”

“So this is all about revenge.”

“After the first couple million years, escape from hell became my all consuming reason.”

“You mean, I’m pregnant?”

“You think someone threw him out of a plane with a message written on him like in Con Air? You ever see that flick?”

“It’s the living dead! Kill it! Kill it!”

“Wait a second! Between guys with wings, guys falling out of the sky, and guys trying like hell to fuck me, I think I’ve been pretty patient so far, and I’m not taking another step until you tell me where the hell you came from!”

“I came from Heaven.”

“Is this why I had to come down here this morning, man? Is this why I had to miss my fucking cartoons?”

“Let me give you a little inside information about God.”

“People die for it, people kill for it.”

“His piece will be rubbing inside of your armor!”

“You know ,death is a worry of the living. The dead like myself only worry about decay and necrophiliacs.”

“I told them I was coming up on a routine possession.”

“'Makin’ with the love.’ It’s a nice way of saying boning.”

“Do I come off as gay?”

“I got half a stock when she kissed me.”

“I hope you’re the skeeball type.”

“Bow down, stupid!”

“It never ends!”

“What the fuck happened to that guy’s head?!”

“She’s a clever girl, that one.”

“You ready to make some of those changes I’ve been talking about?”

“One of the drawbacks to being a martyr is that you have to die.”

“All is being taken care of.”

“Why are we here?”

*touches nose and makes funny noise*

“I told you she was a woman.”

“She’s not really a woman. She’s not really anything.”

“She’s something alright.”

“Are you saying you believe?”

“Crisis of faith over?”

“Why don’t you name the kid after me?”

“We’re in Mexico?”

“I couldn’t help it, the bitch was hot!”

“You know, you can’t talk to me like that anymore, I’m gonna be somebody’s mother.”

“Yo, we should go to Quick Stop.”

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay memes #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #dogma

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penzyroamin · 4 years

Note

javid w/ enchanted or long live 🥺🥺🥺

olive... long live is in my top ten songs of all time.

BUT ENCHANTED IS IN MY TOP THREE SO WE’RE GOING WITH THAT!!!

this’ll be up on ao3 in a hot sec but y’all get it first! this is just. sweet first meetings and dumb flirty nonsense

warnings for some mentions of drinking and a mentioned hookup

this night is sparkling-- on ao3

It is the twenty-first birthday of one Katherine Plumber, and as such, half of Manhattan is hammered.

Jack, himself, is lingering in a pleasant tipsy state, just enough to make everyone around him look a little hotter but not enough to make him think he should make a move on any of them.

He is at, possibly, the most spectacular party he's ever seen-- fountains of champagne, fondue, and chocolate, a live band, three different bars, and a massive sculpture of Dolly Parton. All around him are socialites, fancy reporters, and his own brand of hooligan.

Katherine, the woman of the hour, is clearly wasted, licking salt off of Rafaela's wrist and trying to keep her fake eyelashes on.

If he needed, he could easily head out. Nobody would notice him being missing, after all, and he hasn't got much to stay for besides the free drinks and the bass thrumming through the floor.

But he's staying. He's still standing there amidst a mob of gyrating, Jaeger-slamming twenty-somethings, for some reason unknown even to him.

(He's staying for the hot guy by the Dolly statue. For him and him only.)

He maneuvers through the crowd to a table, keeping an eye on Mystery Guy the whole time, and picks up a china plate seemingly encrusted in gold. On it, he loads three cupcakes, a handful of Rich People Potato Chips, and a cookie, then scolds himself momentarily for falling into his pattern.

His pattern being, of course: go to glamorous party, see a gorgeous stranger, stress eat and prove himself entirely unalluring, leave the party alone.

Dodging a drunk political scientist, he succumbs to his fate and unwraps the first cupcake. He looks up and-- his mystery hot guy is gone.

Not his mystery hot guy. He has no claim to him. But Jack's totally stared at him for an hour and a half, he should have dibs.

"Hi."

Jack makes an undignified noise into his cupcake and spins on his heel. Ah. There's his hot guy.

Again, not his.

But he's standing right there, trying to talk to Jack, so maybe he's on to something here.

"Hey," he says, trying to make a plate of cupcakes seem less odd.

His hot guy smiles. "I'm Davey."

"Jack. You Katherine's friend?"

"Yeah, from college. Are you?"

"Yup. Been stuck with her since middle school."

That makes his hot guy-- Davey-- smile wider. He's got a nice smile, with one slightly crooked bottom tooth and sparkly gloss on his lips.

Jack offers up one of his cupcakes, and Davey takes it, removing the bottom half so he can make a cupcake sandwich.

"You're gay, aren't you?" Jack asks, and almost immediately regrets it when Davey quirks up one eyebrow.

"Yes…"

Jack points at the cupcake sandwich. "That's just. Only the gays are smart enough."

Davey nods slowly, his brows furrowing. Jack is ninety-nine percent sure that this hot guy, who is gay, now thinks hes an awkward frat boy-ish ally.

"I am, too. Gay, that is. Not very smart."

The confusion vanishes from Davey's face, and he laughs. "Okay, then." He finishes off the cupcake and sticks the folded-up wrapper in his back pocket, then holds out a hand. "You wanna dance?"

Jack isn't sure what he does with his plate. It's either shattered somewhere or in the possession of a stoner. All he remembers is nodding and taking Davey's hand.

"I will warn you," Jack says, "I'm not a good dancer. Two left feet, y'know?"

"Better than four left feet," Davey says, and Jack snorts.

"So at least I'm human, and not a Martian?"

"I feel like Saturn has more of a four feet vibe."

"It's a gas giant, you can't walk on it."

"Well," Davey says solemnly, "that's for the Saturn aliens to figure out." Jack laughs at that, and Davey grins, tugging on his hand. "C'mon."

They dance for fifteen straight songs, long enough that the tipsiness from the beginning of the party has faded away into an entirely different happiness. By song fifteen, they've migrated directly into each other's personal space, and Jack is giddy with all the noise and closeness and every freckle on Davey's face.

Their hands bumping together has turned to Davey's arm around Jack's shoulders, which has turned into the two of them face-to-face, holding each other like it's a slow dance and talking just loud enough so the other can hear them.

Davey's a constitutional law student, he loves Stevie Nicks, he has a cat and two siblings. He's hilarious, in a dry, begrudging sort of way, and he was apparently notoriously quiet in elementary school.

He has three freckles, right in a cluster, under his right eye. His fingernails are painted gold, and he laughs when Jack says something funny but never when Jack insults himself.

"Don't tell me what to do," the singer onstage cries. "Don't tell me what to say."

Davey's arms are wrapped around Jack's waist, which normally makes him feel claustrophobic and uncomfortable but is ridiculously pleasant right now. Jack's hands are resting on the back of Davey's neck, and everything is just so… nice.

There's a million people screaming along to the song, everyone but the two of them smells like booze, and Jack is doing all the things that normally make him want to crawl out of his own skin. But it's nice. Better than nice, really, Jack thinks this might be one of the best nights he's had in a while.

Davey's expression turns thoughtful, and Jack tilts his head to the side, making him smile.

"What's the look for?"

Davey sighs softly. "I was just wondering," he says, "if you would be furious at me for kissing you."

That hits Jack like a bolt of lightning, running down his spine until every part of his body feels warm and alive. “Not furious,” he manages, and one of Davey’s hands comes up to cradle the side of his face, his touch breathtakingly delicate. “The opposite, really.”

“Okay,” Davey murmurs. “That’s good.” Jack barely has time to laugh.

Davey leans down a little, and everything slides, ever so slightly, into place. The kiss is all at once gentle and firm, soft in the way Davey’s thumb rests on Jack’s cheek and rough in how he grabs onto Jack’s waist and pulls him closer. Jack clutches at Davey’s shirt and his hair, trying to stay grounded, and groans under his breath when Davey bites on his lip.

There’s a different song playing when they pull away from each other. They’re both breathing heavily, the glitter of Davey’s lip gloss is smeared all around his mouth, and when Jack wipes at his own jaw, his fingers come away glittery, too. He swipes his finger across Davey’s cheekbone, making him laugh. They fall silent for a moment, and Jack thinks.

He isn’t entirely used to this break in his pattern. It’s entirely different from people finding him hilarious when they’re all drunk, him forming a circle of new friends, but then heading home alone. And he isn’t sure what he wants out of tonight, but he knows none of it will happen surrounded by Katherine’s wasted friends and acquaintances.

Before he manages to lose his nerve, he asks, “Do you wanna head to my place?”

Davey immediately looks relieved. “Oh my god, yes, please.”

They make their way there, the journey broken up by pauses for making out against the bar, in the coatroom, in the back of their taxi, in the elevator up to Jack’s apartment, and outside the door of Jack’s apartment before Jack finally forces the door open and lets them inside.

By then, he's decided exactly what he wants.

When Jack wakes up, Davey is already awake and scrolling on his phone. He turns it off when he sees Jack’s eyes open and smiles at him. “Hey. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Thanks.” He leans forward and kisses Davey, much slower than last night, and Davey runs his thumb over Jack’s lips when they part.

“I actually have to leave,” he says. “I’ve got class at noon.” Jack waves his hand for him to go.

“Go be a lawyer.”

“Mm, law student.”

“Tomato, tomahto.”

Davey kisses him again. “I’ll leave my number on your counter, okay?”

Jack nods, and Davey smiles, getting up to collect his clothes from where they’re strewn across the floor and get dressed. Jack whistles when he bends down to tie his boots, and Davey rolls his eyes, coming back to kiss him nonetheless.

"Parting is such sweet sorrow," Jack says against his lips, and Davey pulls away.

"You know Shakespeare?"

Jack laughs. "Not really. Nerd."

"Shut up." Davey kisses him again.

When he leaves, Jack stays in bed for a while, smiling gleefully, and picks up his phone. He remembers muting it in the taxi, and laughs as his messages pop up.

Charlie: where r u there's cotton candy made of vodka

Charlie: we're putting dibs on sleeping spaces so u better show up or u have to sleep in the garden

Charlie: wheeerrrreee aaaaaarrrrrrreeee yyyyoooooouuuuu

Charlie: LMAOOOO i saw spot's snap ;))))))

Charlie: and on kathys.. he's hot congrats!

Charlie: i'll assume that's where u are. get some bro!!!!!

Charlie: CHECK RAF'S SNAP HAVE U BEEN A SECRET HOE THE WHOLE TIME

Jack raises his eyebrows and goes to see what had happened, a sigh brewing in his chest.

And.. yes. There it is.

He generally doesn't like having pictures taken of him. It's such a permanent act, something that can be there forever proving everything he thinks about himself correct. An everlasting piece of evidence that he's right.

But none of that shows here. He doesn't look sad, or tired, or too short, or too big. He looks like he belongs in his skin. He looks like he enjoys his day-to-day.

Also, Davey looks really into him. Which is implied by his tongue in Jack's mouth, but they look happy. They look like they fit together, like they've known each other for so much longer than that night.

In Katherine's picture, Davey has his fingers curled in Jack's belt loops, pulling him closer. They're smiling against each other's lips.

In Rafaela's, it is... significantly less sweet. Jack's pinned against the wall, Davey's hand is up his shirt, and Jack has to close it quickly before he starts thinking too much.

Okay. Okay, so Jack can never bring Davey out with his friends for fear of torment. Cool.

There's a little warm feeling in his chest, a brand-new rightness, that all of what had happened was how it was supposed to be. The way Davey looks in those pictures, like Jack is exactly what he wants, and the way every quick remark and joke and tease fit together and made sense-- he doesn't think he'll ever stop smiling.

His chest aches for a second. God, he needs Davey to feel the same way. He wants those private, gleeful smiles for himself and himself alone.

Please, God, don't let Davey want someone else.

It's been one night, he reminds himself, roughly fifteen hours. He takes a deep breath, remembers the way Davey's laugh borders on a cackle, and feels the tightness in his shoulders loosen.

He drags himself out of bed to the kitchen, and smiles at the receipt Davey's scribbled his number on. Davey must've brought the newspaper in and put the coffee on, and Jack scans over the entertainment section while he waits for his cup to cool down to drinking temperature.

After a while, the door phone buzzes, and Jack answers, confused. "Hey?"

"Yeah, I got a food delivery for Jack?"

He blinks and buzzes them in. "Uh, yeah, come on up."

It's entirely possible he might be murdered, but he also wants food.

After a minute or so, there's a knock on the door. Jack trades the brown paper bag for a cash tip, and the delivery person nods. "There's a note in there. I ain't gonna read it for you."

"Thanks."

They nod again and leave. Jack shuts the door and sets the bag down on his table, unpacking his bounty: golden waffles, little cups of whipped cream and syrup, and berries. The note is at the bottom of the bag, and Jack laughs in disbelief when he reads it.

Normally I'd make you breakfast. This is hopefully tastier than what I could've done. Text me sometime soon, don't wait three days to seem cool, please.

"Of the very instant that I saw you, Did my heart fly to your service." -The Tempest

-Davey

Jack is going to marry this guy. He's decided. He's going to marry Davey whatever-his-last-name-is.

To Charlie: so if a guy orders u breakfast how slutty should the thank u selfie be

She responds immediately, god bless her.

Charlie: babe that's up to the vibe

Charlie: also he sounds so sweet congrats!!! was the night good

To Charlie: very good.

Charlie: if it were ME it would be a titty out kinda look but you're you

To Charlie: thank u xx i will not be taking that advice

It takes him five minutes to get an appropriately goofy selfie without looking like a damn fool, and also still seeming kind of alluring and hot.

He texts with one hand while eating, not wanting the waffle to cool down any more, and debates for a while on the caption before finally going to google.

To Davey: img736.jpg

To Davey: "For where thou art, there is the world itself, And where thou art not, desolation"

To Davey: - Henry VI, i think?

Davey: going into the HISTORIES, I see

Davey: btw you're breathtaking. enjoy your breakfast!

Jack's a wreck for the rest of the day.

#newsies fic #javid #jack kelly #david jacobs #katherine plumber #javid fic #newsies #penzy writes #!!! this was fun

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yulmoldauer · 4 years

Text

its better not to say such things out loud (Tyson Jost/OC): Chapter One

part 2

Story summary: Mason Wright was recently traded and because an Av. Sometimes a fresh start with a new team across the country is what a guy needs, right? It seems to work out, going to a place where no one truly knows you. That is, until someone finds out what you’re desperately trying to hide.

Chapter 1

Summary: Mason’s had a rough game, to put it simply. It was never the best idea to get into a fight with someone bigger than you. They won even with him taking a five-minute major for fighting halfway through the third period. The team goes out to celebrate his 23rd birthday post-win and Tyson takes care of getting him home and to sleep safely.

Warnings: None, I believe! Just some drinking mentioned and there’s a drunk character if that makes you uncomfortable. There’s also a slur against lgbt people used.

Words: 1,968

Notes: The title is from The Stigma (Boys Don’t Cry) by As It Is. This is the thing with the LGBT main character that I’ve had a few different people tell me they’d be interested in :) I’m having a lot of fun writing and plotting this so far, so let me know if you enjoy!

There were perks to being smaller than most other people in the league. Being an extremely fast and skilled defenseman was one of them.

Being outmatched in every possible articulation, being compared to a chihuahua yapping at a pitbull, everything like that. Which is how he ended up in the penalty box for five fucking minutes, the asshole in the box next to him chirping him the entire time, it seemed like.

“What are you, a fag?”

That was what Mason heard fly by him, aimed at Jost who wouldn’t get into a fight to draw a penalty. Mason knew for a fact that’s what the guy was trying to do. He still took the bait when Tyson didn’t.

Mason was smaller than nearly every player he knew. Watching him get into a fight was exciting yet painful at the same time for anyone with a brain. The other guy was at least six-foot compared to the five-foot-eight Mason. To say it was outmatched…

Mason was going to be lucky if he didn’t come out of this with some scrapes and bruises. A broken nose was pretty likely as well, once he thought about it.

But hearing that word ignited something in him that overtook the reasoning section of his brain and both of them were dropping gloves. Sure, he’d definitely have a black eye tomorrow, but he’d gotten a few good licks in as well.

They still won the game, which was nice.

“Dude, you gotta at least get into it with guys in your weight class.”

“You’re funny, Landeskog. Whole fucking league is out of my weight class,” Mason huffed as he stripped his padding off of his lean torso.

“Yeah, kinda the point,” Zadorov shrugged. “Not your fault you’re smaller, just the way it is.”

“I get it, I’m short,” he ran a hand through his wavy helmet hair and reached down to unlace his skates. “Z, you can fight for me, then. I’ll run my mouth and you can do all the hitting.”

“With you? Don’t take it, man, Wright can go on and on for hours,” Tyson chirped from across the room. That earned him a glove chucked at his face.

“Fuck y’all. I don’t even have a good comeback.”

“Because it’s true!”

Okay, maybe it was true. Mason was just a talker, it’s how it was.

Tyson gave him endless shit about it, but really he didn’t mind. He actually enjoyed just being able to turn his brain off and absorb whatever stuck from what Mason was going on about. Usually it didn’t even matter--ranting about how a show got robbed of some award that doesn’t even matter, spewing information about whatever book he was reading, going off about whatever asshole did something stupid during his day-- Tyson would just let him go until he ran out of steam. Conversations were nice, too, when he was in just a talkative mood as well.

Mason did know how to shut up, though. Sometimes. (Hint: that’s what made him the favorite out of the Wright/Zadorov best friend duo. He could be quieter than Z. They’ve threatened to separate the two on multiple occasions, though.)

“What’d that guy even do to rile you up? You looked pissed,” Nate broke Mason out of his train of thought.

“Just called someone something stupid. I’m not gonna repeat it.”

“He called me a fag because I wouldn’t take the bait for the penalty,” Tyson said soon after. “He’s just a fucking moron because he got a longer penalty than any of us.”

There was an uncomfortable moment as that sunk in, then a few “what the fuck” or “that’s gross” phrases before people moved on to heading to the showers.

Mason was about to sneak away when Tyson called out his name.

“Hey, I wanted to catch you before you hit the shower. You got a second?”

“Yeah, sure. I just have to do some pt kind of stuff before I shower. What’s up?” he offered with a friendly smile.

“I just wanted to thank you for sticking up for me. You definitely didn’t have to, but calling him on it drew a ton of attention to it. I think it’s really important to start weeding that shit out of the sport, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Mason smiled. “I--thanks, man. That means a lot to me.”

“‘Course,” Tyson gave a nod. “And you know if you were, like… y’know, gay or… anything, really, I wouldn’t care. And neither would anyone else on the team. It’d totally be okay.”

Mason wanted to give him a reassuring “I know” but couldn’t. Hockey was definitely not the environment known for welcoming lgbt kids and turning them into well-adjusted, accepted adults.

“Thanks,” Mason murmured. “Really, that means a lot.”

“Of course,” Tyson breathed, like he was getting a huge weight off his chest. “Um, yeah. I’ll let you go do your physical therapy stuff now. I’ll see you at the bar after everything’s done here?”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna ditch you for my birthday, idiot.”

With an excited smile, Tyson turned and headed in the opposite direction.

Once he reached an area to chill out while waiting for the showers to clear out, Mason sighed, plopping into a chair and resting his head in his hands.

Obviously he knew why Tyson brought up starting to call out homophobia and other bigoted shit they were all used to just overlooking. But why did he bring up the whole ‘we’d accept you no matter what’ thing?

The thought of ‘he was very sensitive to a slur so maybe he’s gay’ never crossed Mason’s mind. That would simply be too easy and rational.

Did Tyson know he was different? What exactly did Tyson know? There was no way Tyson would out him, but still. Trusting people to keep a secret was hard. It was just easier to bottle everything up.

God, he needed to figure this out.

Maybe he’d get drunk enough tonight to just forget for a little while. He didn’t get drunk or even drink all that often, he could let go every now and then.

At the beginning of the night, Gabe took his keys, promising that he’d give them to whoever would be driving Mason home. They all knew for a fact Mason wouldn’t drive drunk, it wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities. Honestly, they were more worried about the newly twenty-three-year-old losing them or putting them somewhere so he’d ‘remember where they are later’, which was proven ineffective at the last gathering Gabe threw.

“If you can’t figure out where the stupid keys are, he can come get them in the morning or I can drop them off to him or something,” Gabe rolled his eyes.

“You’re sure you don’t remember where you put them?” JT triple-checked. He’d been the designated driver for a few of them, including Mason, Tyson, and a couple others who had already gotten out to the car.

Mason shook his head. “I’m not even that drunk,” he insisted.

“Uh-huh. Gabe, just let me know if you find ‘em and we can work something out for him in the morning.”

Twenty minutes later, Gabe sent a picture and “anyone know who these belong to?” in the group chat. It was, without a doubt, Mason’s keys, adorned with a keychain reading “DETROIT” in graffiti lettering. He was from Detroit, and everyone knew that he refused to take that keychain off until it literally fell off for some sentimental reason, most likely.

‘Lol where’d you find it?’ someone texted back.

‘My dishwasher. His wallet was there too’

Mason has still never heard the end of that. No matter how hard he tried to explain that when he put them somewhere, it meant that he wouldn’t lose them or buy something stupid online (last time that happened, he bought a thing to hang on a window so your cat could sit on it and sunbathe. Mason has not owned a cat at any point in his life.) and he’d remember where it was once he sobered up.

Of course he still gets relentless shit for it. He wouldn’t expect any different.

Currently, Mason and Z were arm wrestling over a table in the back of the bar, people beginning to call it quits and going home. And with his pride hurt that he could not beat Z in an arm wrestling match, Tyson stole the other’s keys and wallet from Gabe, saying goodbyes and forcing Mason to as well.

“You are blasted, man.”

“Mmph,” he shrugged and laid his head against the passenger window. “I wanna lay down and sleep.”

“You can when I get you home. Gimmie your seatbelt so I can buckle you in.”

Mason followed the order with a small pout, not drunk enough to the point of incoherence but… definitely a little fucked up. Tyson had done this before: dealing with the mopey friend at the end of the night. Mason was definitely one to get mopey or clingy once they left the main event.

“My face hurts.”

“That checks out, buddy. I’ll get you some ice for it back at your place. What?” Tyson continued to ask when Mason stared out the windshield all angsty.

“Still can’t believe I couldn’t beat Z.”

“That guy could slam most of us through a table, don’t beat yourself up.”

“Can’t. Someone already did.”

“You’re full of jokes, huh?”

Mason just grinned sleepily as they pulled into the apartment complex and Tyson had an arm wrapped around his friend to keep him steady. Getting a drunk person to go to bed was usually one of the hardest parts of the night.

“Would you just--”

“I got it,” Mason huffed, fumbling with his keys near the lock of the door.

“Dude.”

“Shut up, you’re gonna wake up my neighbors,” he grumbled, finally getting the door open with a triumphant “see? I’m an adult.”

“I see. Go be an adult and get ready to go to bed,” Tyson rolled his eyes, taking the keys out of the door and locking it behind them.

“I don’t wanna sleep,” he replied quickly.

“You’re drunk, what do you mean you don’t want to sleep?”

“Not tired,” he flopped down on the couch.

“At least get out of your clothes. That way if you fall asleep it’s in pajamas.”

Mason was sprawled out, already clicking through Netflix.

“Fine, I will go get you pajamas. Here,” Tyson pressed a cold compress to a bruise on his face and headed to the bedroom.

“Thanks for driving me,” he heard from the other room.

“‘Course,” Tyson called back. “Here, put these on,” he tossed the clothes at Mason.

“Are you staying here? You can take the guest room, if you want.”

“Sure. Probably easier than trying to get home this late,” Tyson shrugged and headed for the kitchen. As he heard the rustling around of what he assumed was his friend changing, Tyson got a glass of water and painkillers for when Mason woke up.

“I can drive you home tomorrow,” Mason slurred even more heavily as he began getting more tired. He’d managed to get his jeans off and a pair of shorts on before moving onto the shirt. He’d just pulled his shirt off when Tyson walked back in the room with the water.

“Woah,” he said quietly, stopping quickly.

For whatever reason, he’d never realized that he had never seen his teammate and friend shirtless. That was weird, especially when you played sports together for a living. He assumed it was due to the faded scars along his chest, almost in a u-shape under each pec.

He didn’t even know what kind of injury would cause that kind of surgery.

“When did you get surgery?”

Fuck was all that ran through Mason’s head.

#nhl #hockey #mens hockey #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #fanfiction #m/m ship #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey fandom #nhl fandom #tyson jost #avalanche #colorado avalanche #Colorado Avalanche fanfic #my stuff

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remywrites5 · 4 years

Note

14 Fluff with wolfstar? 😉 /casualmaraudering

Remus Lupin was willing to admit that he was a little bit obsessed with Sirius Black. Sirius often came in to the Karaoke bar where Remus worked to sing better than most of the others that came in. He was mesmerizing to watch on stage no matter what he was singing. He tended to go for more of the 70’s punk rock but every once in a while he would switch it up with a little Panic! At the Disco, Hozier, Beyonce, and all sorts.

The last time he had come in he had done a rendition of “Somebody to Love” by Queen and Remus hadn’t moved for the entire five minutes that Sirius was singing. He had straight up ignored other customers who had been wanting drinks because he couldn’t stop watching Sirius. His coworker Marlene had just shook her head at him and served the people Remus was ignoring, knowing better than to try and pry Remus’ attention away from Sirius.

Remus’ crush had gotten even worse when he’d discovered Sirius had a youtube channel where he posted covers of songs. Sirius apparently played piano and guitar, switching it up between videos. Remus had drastically increased Sirius’ viewer count since Marlene had been nice enough to drop that tidbit of information to fuel Remus’ pathetic pining.

It was fairly slow for a Saturday night and it was just after nine o’clock when Sirius came in with his friends Lily, James and Peter. They grabbed one of the tables towards the front and Sirius immediately began filling out a slip of paper with his song choice. After he dropped it off with the emcee, he walked over confidently to the bar and leaned his elbows on it casually. He had on tight black leather trousers and a Sex Pistols t-shirt that had been cut to be a crop top, hitting just above Sirius’ belly button. Remus knew getting through the night with Sirius wearing that was going to take every ounce of his perseverance.

“What’s up, Marls?” Sirius said, nodding to her.

“Hi Sirius,” Marlene said, grinning in response. “What are you serenading us with tonight?”

“Thought I might do a little bit of Elton John,” Sirius said, sliding his fingers through his hair. “I’m feeling extra gay tonight.”

Marlene laughed. “You’re feeling extra gay every night, Black,” she teased him. Remus stood off the side pretending he wasn’t listening in on their conversation.

“Pot, kettle, black and all that,” Sirius said with a smirk. “Your better half here tonight or are you sparing Dorcas the pain of listening to yet another night of karaoke?”

“She has to work early in the morning,” Marlene informed him with a shrug. Remus realized he’d been cleaning the same glass for way too long and quickly switched to a different one. He didn’t want it to be obvious that he was eavesdropping. “When are you going to get a better half?”

“Excuse you, I’m clearly the better half, Marls,” Sirius joked, glancing over at Remus. “Hi there.”

“Oh, um, hi,” Remus said, giving a little wave. “Did you want a drink?”

Sirius flashed him a smile. “Gin and tonic, two lagers and a ginger ale,” he rattled it off from memory. “First round is on me.”

“Ginger ale?” Marlene echoed.

Sirius’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Yeah, Lily’s pregnant. She’s off the sauce for the next seven months.”

“Oh my god!” Marlene said, jumping up and down excitedly. “I’m going to go congratulate her! Can you handle the bar for a moment, Remus?”

“Of course.” Remus gave her a quick nod and Marlene rushed off to go find Lily. Remus got to work making Sirius’ drink order, trying not to be distracted by the man himself. He quickly uncapped the two lagers and placed them on the bar before starting on the gin and tonic. He glanced up and found Sirius watching him intently, his head cocked to the side as if evaluating Remus. Remus couldn’t help the blush he could feel creeping up his neck the longer Sirius stared. He was so distracted that he overfilled the cup with soda water, spilling it all over his hand and the bar. “Shit.”

Sirius laughed. “Am I making you nervous?”

“Only always,” Remus said without thinking. He immediately wished he could take it back.

Sirius blinked a few times and then smiled. He dropped his chin into his hand and looked Remus up and down. “We’ve never really talked before, have we?”

Remus swallowed thickly and shook his head. “Not really.”

“Pity.”

Remus dumped out the gin and tonic and started over with a new glass. His hands were shaking from the knowledge that Sirius was watching him. He was so completely fucked that it wasn’t even funny. “I’m so sorry this is taking so long,” Remus said, wiping his brow and hands with a dishtowel. He was going all clammy from nerves. “I’m not normally this bad at my job.”

Sirius reached across the bar and put his hand over Remus’ wrist. “Relax, mate.”

Remus looked at Sirius’ hand and then his eyes flickered up to meet Sirius’ gaze. “If you want me to relax you really shouldn’t be doing stuff like that,” he said, wondering where all the word vomit was coming from. For some reason he just couldn’t stop. It was like his brain had stalled and any filter he had between it and his mouth was completely offline.

Sirius snorted and took his hand away. “It is unbelievably cute that I can make you this nervous. It’s like finding out you have a super power.”

“Yeah, except you’re using your powers for evil.”

Sirius barked out a laugh at that. “I don’t think anyone would consider making adorable bartenders blush evil, mate.”

Remus made a face at him and managed to finish making Sirius’ drink. It took concentrating on someone singing Maroon 5 badly to accomplish it. He finished off by making the glass of ginger ale. He let out a shaky breath as he slid them across the bar towards Sirius. “That’ll be sixteen pounds fifty,” Remus told him, feeling slightly less anxiety-ridden now that he’d finished Sirius’ drink order.

Sirius got out his wallet from his back pocket and gave Remus twenty pounds. “Keep the change.”

“Do you need help carrying the drinks to your table?” Remus asked.

“Nah, I got it,” Sirius said, putting the two bottles of beer in the crook of his elbow and gripping the other two glasses between his long, slender fingers with sparkly silver nail polish. “Thanks Remus.”

“You’re welcome.”

***

Remus was outside smoking on his break, needing to take a breather and get away from the constant singing. The worst part of being a bartender was the later it got the more annoying and more drunk people got. Remus just hoped to get through the night without having to clean up someone’s vomit.

The back door opened and Sirius stepped out with his hands in the pockets of his ridiculously tight trousers. “Here you are!” he said brightly, walking over to Remus.

Remus took a long inhale of his fag and tried to think of something to say in response. He was slightly thrown off guard that Sirius had apparently come looking for him. “Hello again,” he finally settled on, blowing the smoke out slowly, careful not to aim it right at Sirius’ face.

“So what did you think of my performance?”

“You put Sir Elton to shame,” Remus said with a shy smile.

“Thanks,” Sirius said, chewing on his bottom lip. Remus watched him as he continued to smoke, thankful that the nicotine was helping to calm his nerves. “You don’t sing?”

“Oh god no,” Remus scoffed, shaking his head. “I’d rather put this cigarette out in my eyeball.”

Sirius took a step closer to Remus. “Well we can’t have that. Not that I don’t think you could pull off an eyepatch.”

Remus chuckled. “Thanks…I think?”

“Give me your phone.”

“What for?”

“I wanna give you my number,” Sirius said, holding out his hand expectantly. Remus grabbed his phone out of his pocket and handed it over without thinking. Sirius pressed the home button and the screen lit up to reveal his own face. He glanced up at Remus, his eyes wide with surprise. “Am I your lock screen?”

Remus’ face went bright red in embarrassment. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Sirius looked back down at the screen. “This is from one of my videos, isn’t it?”

Remus nodded, taking another drag off his cigarette and letting it out shakily. He couldn’t believe he had done something so completely mortifying. Sirius was certain to think he was some kind of obsessed stalker. He couldn’t even say that Sirius would be wrong for feeling that way. In the video there had been a moment where Sirius had been singing while playing piano, his head bowed so his long hair hung in his face. You could see his reflection in the shiny black top of the piano. It would have been an aesthetically pleasing photo even if the subject didn’t enamor Remus.

“The one where you did a cover of Le Vie En Rose,” Remus confirmed, dropping the end of his cigarette to prepare to run away if need be. “It’s my favorite.”

Sirius passed the phone back and Remus felt his heart sank. That was it, he had officially blown it and Sirius didn’t want his number anymore. He took his phone back and tried to ignore that painful twisting in his stomach. “The passcode,” Sirius said with a small smile. “You have to put the passcode in.”

“Oh,” Remus said, blinking in surprise. “I thought maybe you were having second thoughts.” He quickly typed in his passcode and handed the phone back to Sirius.

“Well I mean I would expect my boyfriend to be my number one stan, so it seems like you’re already there,” Sirius teased, his thumbs flying over the screen as he added his contact information in.

“I promise I’m not weird,” Remus said quickly. “I just really liked that picture of you and it’s basically art and no one would think I wanted to fuck the statue of David if that was my lock screen and…” Remus trailed off for a moment, something Sirius had said finally sinking in. “Did you say boyfriend?”

Sirius laughed and held the phone out for Remus. “Trust me, Marls would have warned me if you were weird, and wouldn’t have encouraged me to come talk to you.”

Remus rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “You’re not just doing this because Marlene talked you into it, are you?”

“Definitely not,” Sirius said, grabbing the front of Remus’ shirt and tugging him forward slightly. Remus stumbled over his own feet but closed the gap between them. “I’ve been meaning to chat you up for ages, actually. My best mate James and I had an agreement that if he could get his wife pregnant then I would talk to you.”

Remus huffed in amusement. “You said Lily was already two months pregnant,” he reminded Sirius.

Sirius’ eyes lit up mischievously. “Oh so you were listening in,” he said, biting his bottom lip. “I thought so. And they only announced the pregnancy two weeks ago. Besides, I didn’t promise I’d be timely about chatting you up.”

“Will you sing something for me?” Remus asked, reaching out and cupping Sirius’ face in his hand, letting his thumb brush over his high cheekbones.

“What are you Ursula the sea witch?” Sirius joked, tilting his face and biting Remus’ thumb playfully. “Go on and kiss the – “ Sirius began to sing but was cut off by Remus capturing his lips. As much as he wanted to hear Sirius sing some Disney classics, he was much more interested in kissing him senseless. He splayed his hand over the small of Sirius’ back, touching his warm skin and holding Sirius flush against him as the kiss deepened. Sirius brought his hands up and gripped Remus’ biceps as he sucked Remus’ tongue into his mouth.

“So…” Remus said, breaking the kiss after a few moments of intense snogging. “You said boyfriend? “

“Yeah.” Sirius smiled, looking slightly dazed as he held onto Remus. Remus took it as a point of pride. “I believe I did.”

#wolfstar #i write things #casualmaraudering #fluff #dialogue prompt #long post #modern au #sirius black x remus lupin #background Jily

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talesfromthesnogbox · 4 years

Text

Stuck Here With you

Rating: M (Rating for explicit conversations about sex)

Words: 3,586

Summary: Richie and Eddie are stuck quarantining themselves together... what could possibly go wrong? OR based on this tweet: "@cjkasulke: APPARENTLY you have all just been *waiting* for this moment to confess your love to your roommates, so many of you live with people you have been silently in love with for y e a r s"

Notes: This is so stupid. Yes, I wrote a quarantine fic. Yes, this whole thing is a serious matter and I am an adult who's working from home and it all sucks, and there are people dying all over the world, and I do care, but I just thought people needed a little bit of a laugh, ya know? Anyways, this is wildly out of character and not good in general, but drop a comment if you like it, or if you think I'm a horrible person, whateves.

AO3

*~*~*~*~*

Richie woke from his catnap with a startled jump as he heard the front door slam shut.

“Jesus Eds, is it 6:30 already? Did I sleep all day?” He asked with a laugh.

“No asshole, it’s noon.” Eddie slammed his briefcase on the breakfast bar and worked his tie open. “This pandemic bullshit has gotten out of control.”

“Is that why you’re home right now…”

“Yes! Jared that fucking lunatic went off and brought some girl home last weekend and now he’s got a fever, so we were all sent home, and I’m stuck in isolation.”

Eddie was pissed, but Richie could see through his thinly veiled layer of anger; there was fear.

“Oh. Do you hang around Jared a lot at work?”

He sighed. “No, no I don’t, but it’s just a precaution until he can get tested properly.”

“That’s good then, right?”

It was good. After seven full days, Eddie finally emerged from his room with a cheery smile. “Jared’s in the clear, turns out he just picked up some STD, and I get to go back into work tomorrow.” He plopped down on the couch.

“That’s great Eds, but I hate to break it to you…” Richie pointed towards the TV where the headline read “California officially shut down”.

The first few days felt like any weekend would. They had extra groceries delivered, they binged some true crime documentary on Netflix, they had a group Skype session with the Losers, they did pretty much anything that took their minds off the current situation. But then the fifth day hit.

It was only 7am when Richie dragged himself out of bed for a coffee. Sure it was early, and he had nowhere to be, but time meant nothing anymore.

Usually Richie’s clamoring about the kitchen woke Eddie up. The first few nights that Eddie moved in after Derry were rough; turns out, Eddie was a pretty light sleeper, and Richie was loud. But today, there was no Eddie in sight.

He continued on his way, pouring himself a bowl of cereal when he saw it through the window to his backyard… and promptly spilled milk all over the counter.

On the bright side, Richie had found Eddie. The only downfall was he’d found him in a pair of tiny running shorts and a tank top doing squats on his deck.

“Fuck!” Richie swore, grabbing a tea towel to clean up the mess he’d made.

“Richie?” Eddie stopped his squats and ran into the house. “What the fuck happened dickwad?”

“N-nothing, nothing happened, it’s just early and I lost my grip.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“So um… what’s happening in the backyard there, Jillian Michaels?” Richie giggled.

“Fuck off. I usually go to the gym before work, but now that the gym’s closed, I had to improvise.”

“Ahh, I see, trying to pick up the new future Mrs. K with…” with thighs I want to wear as earmuffs and that tight ass? He was glad there was an entire counter between them to hide the fact that he was currently at half-mast.

Eddie gave him a strange look and shook his head. “Shut the fuck up. I’m a divorced 40-year-old living with his best friend, I don’t think I’m going to be picking someone up that easily at the gym. Besides, Santa Monica women aren’t really my type…”

“Oh? Well when this is all over, I know a few places we can go pick up chicks. West Hollywood, Beverly Hills, hell even Studio City. Name your type Eds, we’ll find her.”

“Aren’t you gay? How do you know so much about picking up women?”

“Closet case my boy.” Richie winked and took a bite of his cereal. “I’m as good of an actor as I am a comedian.”

“No wonder there were never any articles about how much of a playboy you were then.” Eddie said straight-faced, walking back out to finish his work out.

“Eds gets off a good one!”

*~*~*~*~*

After that eventful morning, Richie tried his hardest to stay in bed until after Eddie’s morning routine was done. One almost-embarrassing situation in his pants was enough to last a lifetime around his best friend of however-many years, he did not need it to escalate from there.

As the days passed on, the two of them found ways to entertain themselves. Eddie took to reading on the deck in the mild April weather, and Richie decided to pick up his guitar again for the first time in years.

He was a little rusty, but after a few hours of practice, it was like riding a bike, and before he knew it, he was back playing the tune he’d spent hours playing as a teenager.

Richie hummed along to the tune of “Eddie My Love” as his fingers formed the familiar chords with ease. He didn’t even realize Eddie walking in from the backyard, a stunned look on his face.

“Rich?” He jumped, startled at the sound of the other man.

“Hey Eds, sorry was I being loud?”

“N-no.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know you played.”

Richie chuckled. “Yeah, I picked it up in high school after Went agreed to teach me a bit. I was in a band in college, but we kinda sucked.”

Eddie scoffed. “You don’t suck, that tune is lovely. What is it?”

Richie’s face felt hot all the sudden. “Uhh, I can’t really remember the name, just something I used to play a bunch. It’s an oldie my mom really liked.”

“Can you teach me?”

His eyes widened. “Y-yeah, here, come sit.” He moved more away from the body and more towards the neck of his acoustic, allowing Eddie to sit nestled between his folded legs. “Okay, um so you hold it like this, and your fingers go here.” Richie curled Eddie’s fingers around the neck of the guitar, placing them in the correct spots on the frets. “So we start with a G chord.” His other arm snaked around Eddie’s shoulder to show him how to strum the chord.

Eddie shivered, completely engulfed by his best friend, noticing for the first time how much he loved his arms being wrapped around him like this.

“Then we move to an E minor.” Richie shifted Eddie’s fingers again and strummed. “Then A minor, and up to D.”

Eddie moved his fingers, pliant beneath Richie’s big hand. His heart beat fast, and he could feel Richie’s breath warm on his shoulder as he played.

For a moment, Eddie could convince himself that Richie felt the same way about him, but only for a moment. They were best friends, and just because Richie was gay, it didn’t mean he was interested in Eddie, no matter how hard he wished that he was. He would never have Richie, but he’d always have this moment.

*~*~*~*~*

“Alright, that’s it. We’re getting drunk.” Richie pulled out a rather large bottle of vodka and a few other spirits. “I’m mixing you up a quarantini.”

“A what now?”

“Quarantini, Eds. We’re getting shitfaced.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Rich, there’s no way in hell I’d—” he paused. Maybe this was the perfect way to come on to Richie. Lowered inhibitions were a great excuse to do something potentially stupid, and if it all went sour, he could blame it on the alcohol. “You know what, fuck it. Mix me a quarantini.”

“That’s the spirit!” He mixed the drinks and dragged Eddie over to the couch. “Alright, we’re indulging tonight. I want not a peep from you. I never got to do any of this gay shit before, and now is the perfect excuse to start a new series. We’re watching RuPaul’s Drag Race.”

Eddie nodded his head. “Drag racing, okay cool, I like cars.”

Richie burst out laughing. “No asshole, drag race… like drag queens.” He popped on a random season and hit play.

Four episodes and many quarantinis later, both Eddie and Richie were yelling at the TV.

“How could they send April home, she’s like the hottest one there!” Eddie put his hands up.

“Right? Look at how hot he is ugh I just wanna…” Eddie glanced over at Richie with a smirk. “Shut up.”

“No, no, I see it.” He pulled out his phone, April’s instagram profile already loaded. “The scruff is driving me mental.”

Richie chuckled. “Eds, that sounds kinda gay.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” Eddie said, face heating up. “Um, surprise?”

“Oh… shit dude, yeah, um, congratulations. Thanks for telling me.” Richie brought his friend into a tight hug, the alcohol running through his system making him feel a little light headed.

“Thanks for being cool about it.” Eddie mumbled, pulling away a bit, but still resting within Richie’s grasp.

“Hey man, I get it… I’m a closet case too.” He laughed.

The two were silent for a moment, content in each other’s grasp, until Eddie couldn’t handle the silence anymore. “Come on, next episode. I hope Laganja gets booted, I can’t stand her.”

Many episodes and quarantinis later, Eddie was fully shitfaced.

“Come on, bedtime for Eds.”

Eddie giggled. “Yeah Rich, take me to bed.” He waggled his eyebrows in a way that made Richie’s heart stutter.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough from you.” Richie deposited Eddie onto the bed, helping him with his shirt, when Eddie pulled him down hard.

“Oops, sorry Rich.” He giggled. “’s not my fault, you’re trying to get me out of my clothessss.”

“You’re wearing jeans, I can’t let you go to bed in jeans Eddie. What kind of asshole wears jeans in quarantine.” Richie giggles, undoing Eddie’s zip and pulling his jeans down his hairless legs. Fuck, his legs are amazing. “Eds, do you wax?” Richie giggled, rubbing a hand up his thigh.

“Pffftt, we’re in isolation shithead, I haven’t been to my wax girl in weeks.”

A jubilant laugh bubbled from Richie’s chest. “Shit, I’ve learned more about you tonight than I have in all the years I’ve known you. You really are a twunk.”

“A what now?”

Richie planted himself down on the bed beside Eddie. “Twunk, hunky twink.”

A look of realization dawned on Eddie. “Ohhhh, that makes a lot of sense. The dude at the checkout told me I was a twunk when I went to buy those underwear without the butt.”

Richie’s brain went blank. “Eddie, do you wear thongs?”

“No asshole, the other thing without the butt. Jock something, I can’t remember.”

“A jockstrap? Eddie are you trying to kill me right now?”

“Shut the fuck up asshole! They’re good for working out in. And they don’t give me lines in my nice suit pants.” Richie was speechless. “So if I’m a twunk, what are you?”

“I—I—I think it’s time for bed.”

“Oh.” Eddie said sounding dejected. “O-or we could just hang out?”

Richie was at an impasse. He knew they were walking a thin line right now, and he shouldn’t stay, but he wanted to see where this would take him, he didn’t want to leave Eddie’s side.

“I think I could hang out for a bit.”

Their “hanging out” didn’t last very long. Within ten minutes, the two men were out cold.

Richie woke up first the next morning and left the soundly sleeping Eddie to go make a pot of coffee. His head was pounding, and as much as he knew the bright sunlight was going to burn his eyes, the fresh air couldn’t hurt.

He’d never been more thankful for his manager who also happened to be a fantastic decorator. The outdoor couch may have seemed stupid to him when he first bought the place, but at times like this, it was a great choice. He could relax, and look out towards the ocean, and forget everything that happened the night before.

That is until Eddie decided to join him.

Richie’s breath left his lungs once he got a good look at his friend. It was like a blast from the past seeing him in a pair of tiny red running shorts, much like those he wore when he was a kid, but now… now they were so much more. Richie’s mouth watered when his eyes caught a good look at how Eddie’s ass filled out the shorts. A large tank top donned his torso, one that Richie had been gifted, and definitely not been too comfortable wearing himself judging by how low cut the arm holes were. He looked hot, not that he wasn’t always attracted to Eddie, but this felt like something had changed, a sexual awakening of sorts, and Richie would never look at his friend the same way.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungover.” Eddie complained as he sat beside Richie. “That stupid drink went down like water.”

“Yeah man I hear you, I feel like shit.”

“I had fun though, it’s been a long time since I’ve had that much fun.”

Richie looked over to him. “No regrets about spilling your guts then?”

Eddie winced. “Okay, maybe you didn’t have to hear about what kind of underwear I prefer.”

Richie burst out laughing. “No, I definitely appreciated that tidbit of information, Eds. I’m proud that my twunk theory was right.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself you coward.” Richie mumbled to himself.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“N-nothing.” He said, darting inside. “Going to work on my new show, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Richie had to get out of there. Last night was a lot, sure, but something felt different today. Seeing Eddie in his boxer briefs felt almost safer than whatever the hell he was wearing today. It’s almost like… almost like he’d purposely dressed up for Richie, and it was killing him. He didn’t know how much more he could take before he combusted.

Unfortunately for Richie, this new look seemed to be Eddie’s new uniform. Richie could tell that now Eddie was out to him, he felt more comfortable being himself, but Richie hated every second of it.

He dreaded seeing Eddie in the morning, dreaded knowing what fresh hell lay beyond his bedroom door in the form of a 5’9 firey bundle of sex personified.

Nearly a month into their quarantine, it was finally warm enough for Richie to sit out by the pool. He donned the brightest swim trunks he could find and rubbed his pale skin down with sunscreen, soaking up some vitamin D.

He’d been out there for just under an hour when he heard (and felt) a splash from the pool where Eddie jumped in.

“Okay, I take back everything bad I ever said about you having a pool when the ocean is right there. The pool is definitely more relaxing than the beach.”

Richie giggled. “I told you, asshole.”

“Oh, and I totally figured out what you are now. If I’m a twunk, you’re an otter.”

“A what now?” Richie removed his sunglasses and moved to sit on the edge of the pool.

“An otter.” Eddie rested his elbows on Richie’s thighs as his calves framed his torso. “At least that’s what I think. It’s like a softer bear. You’re not quite as big and not enough hair to be a bear, and you’re still too thin to be a cub, so you’re an otter.”

“I understood exactly none of what you said except for ‘bear’. I met a bear on Grindr just before Derry that made me realize I like being the bigger body in bed.” Richie winked saucily.

“So you’re a top then Trashmouth?”

Richie’s brows rose into his hairline. “I—I—we are not talking about this right now, not when you’re this close to my dick.”

“Oh come on, you used to talk about your dick all the time.”

“Yeah, I was a closeted kid who’s balls hadn’t dropped yet, obviously I wanted to come off as heterosexual as I could.”

Eddie laughed. “Okay, good point.”

The two sat in the same position for a few minutes, exchanging no words between them. It felt intimate, it felt like Eddie was flirting with him, but he’d never been good at picking up signs. Could Eddie want this too?

“I am though.” He said quietly, finally breaking the silence.

“You’re what?”

Richie’s heart thudded in his chest. “A top, I guess. I don’t mind bottoming, I like it, but I guess I just…”

Eddie grinned. “You like being in charge?”

“No, fuck no.” Richie laughed.

“Really? Huh, okay.” Eddie nodded, mostly to himself.

“Hey, what the fuck does that mean?”

“Nothing, nothing at all Tozier.” Eddie pushed off of Richie’s legs and floated on his back towards the inflatable lounger.

*~*~*~*~*

The week that followed was agonizing. All Eddie wore was those stupid shorts and a variation of t-shirt/tank-top/fucking crop top, and it was driving Richie mental. He felt like a teenager again, he’d never had so many hard-ons in one week in his life.

It was only a matter of time before Richie snapped.

Richie was descending the stairs from his room one fateful morning and groaned rather loudly when he saw what was waiting for him.

The shorts seemed shorter, tighter on his ass (damn all those squats he does) and his already short shirt seemed to rise up, showing the lovely dimples on his lower back as he reached for a bowl from a high shelf.

“Hey Rich, can you help me… what’s wrong?”

He huffed out a laugh. “What’s wrong? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Wh—did I do something?”

Richie stared at Eddie in disbelief. “Did you… did you do someth—the shorts man, what’s with the shorts!”

“The shorts? I always wear the shorts.”

“I fucking know you always wear the shorts, that’s the problem!” Richie’s stomach rolled. He thought he was going to throw up, he’d never been this candid about his feelings in his life.

“You have a problem with the way I dress? Fuck you, dude.”

“Fuck me yourself you coward!”

Both men fell silent. The tension could be cut with a knife, it was so thick between them.

“Richie?”

“Fuck man, I’m sorry I freaked out on you like that, I just don’t know if I can take this anymore. We’ve been cooped up for a month and I swear I’ve done more jacking off in the last month than I ever did as a teenager.” As good as it felt to spill his guts, he definitely thought he was going to pass out any second.

“I—I don’t…”

“The worst part is, it’s not even just that I’m horny. It’s you! Shit man, I’ve been dreaming of you since we were fucking teenagers. And now… now here you are looking like a goddamn… a goddamn what’s the word… a goddamn snack, telling me shit about the sexy underwear you buy, and asking me if I’m a top. Eddie, I don’t know if you’re flirting with me or not, but Jesus fucking Christ, it’s taking every single fiber of my willpower to not rip your clothes off right now.”

Eddie held back a smile. “Wait, I’m sorry, what? You couldn’t tell I was flirting with you? Are you fucking blind? Actually don’t answer that, I know you’re fucking blind.”

Richie was sure he was gonna get a nosebleed any second. “S-so you were flirting with me?”

Eddie laughed out loud. “Yes you idiot! Literally since the moment I got here, I have been flirting with you. You didn’t get the hint that I have feelings for you?”

“What the fuck, no man! Like you said, I’m fucking blind. I thought you were straight until a few weeks ago!”

Eddie moved to lean against the island, closer to Richie. “You dumbass, I tried so hard the night I came out to you, why do you think I told you about what fucking underwear I wear?”

“I don’t know man, I’m not good at this shit.”

“Clearly!”

Richie cast his eyes down. “S-so, so you really like me?”

Eddie reached for his hand and interlaced their fingers. He pulled Richie closer to him, so he was pinned between Richie and the island. “I love you, dickwad.”

Richie huffed out a laugh. “I love you too.” He blinked rapidly, looking up towards the light. “Oh god, why am I crying.”

“Get over here you big baby.” Eddie detangled his fingers from Richie’s and brought his hand up to the other man’s cheek, bringing him in for a kiss. It was sweet, it was chaste, it was everything Richie wanted from Eddie when they were younger.

But he wasn’t a teenager, and he wanted more.

He dove forward, tongue clashing with Eddie’s. It was hot, it was toe curling good. He snaked his other hand down Eddie’s side, curling around his hip and moving to squeeze his ass. Eddie groaned and ground himself into Richie’s thigh.

“Fuck.” Richie said pulling away. “Fuck, how are you so hot? We’re fucking forty man.”

“Me? Dude, look at you. Your arms… your chest…” Eddie snaked his hand under Richie’s shirt, scratching at the smattering of hair on his pecs.

“Jesus man, I’m not gonna last… fuck… bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

*~*~*~*~*

The two men finally emerged from Richie’s bedroom for dinner later on with kiss bruised lips and satisfaction plastered on their faces.

“Anything good on?” Eddie asked as Richie turned on the TV. “Rich?”

Richie laughed. “You better come see this.”

“QUARANTINE LIFTED” The headline read as news anchors happily recounted the fall in new cases, and the rise in recoveries.

“You’re fucking joking.”

#reddie #reddie fic #Richie x Eddie #it fic #yup this is so stupid #yet here I am posting it #my writing

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calumcest · 4 years

Text

only you (and you can hear me)

[ao3]

hello everybody. did you know i’m obsessed with rocketman?

last week i was like ‘i kinda wanna write the tiny dancer scene from rocketman and have michael have been in love with calum since childhood and be suffering’ and bella was like ‘i will absolutely not let you do that’ so i was like ‘okay what about if i rewrite the tiny dancer scene and elton/bernie end up together but elton/bernie are malum’ and bella was like ‘fucking do it you coward’

i also want to take a moment to plug bella’s two wonderful rocketman au fics that i (forcibly) commissioned: the rooftop scene and the your song scene. truly works of art i cannot express to you enough how much i adore them

this fic is for @clumsyclifford for being a wonderful, kind, supportive, genuine friend, treating me with the kind of respect that is so hard to come by, and also for listening to me break down about rocketman for at least half an hour a day. i am truly lucky to know you

“Uh,” Calum says, looking out into the crowd, and Michael follows his gaze, trying to find what Calum’s staring at. “I’m going to go to the teepee with Heather.” Michael’s stomach sinks.

“Really?” he asks, before he can stop himself, looking over at Calum.

“Yeah,” Calum says, turning to look at Michael, and Michael whips back around before Calum can see the look of ‘please don’t’ written all over his face.

“Alright.”

His show - his first show, at least - has been a success.

(Later, Calum will tell him that’s exactly his problem; he’s always doubting himself, always qualifying his successes. Michael will flip him off and tell him just where to stick his fucking advice, and Calum will grin wickedly up at him and tell him he’d rather stick something else there instead.)

It’d been a little shaky to begin with, the quiet beginning to Crocodile Rock something that he hadn’t run past either Calum or Ray and had just hissed to the band as he strode out on stage, and he’d seen Calum’s brow furrow when he held his first long, sustained note, up in the circle, arms draped over the barrier in front of him. Michael had swallowed, pushed through with the quiet beginning, hating every second that he could feel the confusion and anticipation seeping from the crowd, trying to wordlessly tell them it’ll be worth it, it’ll be fucking worth it, and feeling a warm roar in his heart when he’d snapped it back to the rockier version, band joining in, and the crowd had cheered loudly. It had been smooth sailing from there, song after song, shouts for encores after almost every one, people clambering up onto the stage to sing songs they’d never heard before with him, eyes ablaze with joy. Michael’s never felt so fucking alive before, never felt like he’s actually meant anything before, and it’s in that moment that he knows this is what he wants to do for the rest of his life.

He’s back in the green room now, eyes flickering around the room for the only person whose opinion he actually cares about when he finally spots him, and Calum comes bouncing up to him with the most beautiful woman Michael thinks he’s ever laid eyes on in tow.

“It was so good!” Calum crows, pulling Michael into a fierce hug before Michael even has the chance to ask (nervously) what he thought. “You were brilliant.” Michael grins into Calum’s shoulder, wraps his arms tightly around him, inhales the faint scent of pine, cedar, incense, home, that’s mingling with the stale alcohol air of the room. He never wants to let go.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, squeezing Calum just a little harder than maybe strictly necessary, and then Calum’s letting go, stepping back and gesturing at the beautiful woman accompanying him. She smiles, all elegance and grace, and if Michael weren’t both gay and head-over-heels in love with Calum, he thinks he’d probably be down on one knee by now. He’s not quite sure why Calum isn’t, actually. She seems like exactly the type of girl he’d go for, if the one night stands that have failed to sneak silently out of Michael’s mum’s house in the early hours of the morning are anything to go by.

“This is, uh,” Calum says, gesturing at the woman, and smiling brilliantly. “This is Heather.”

“Hi,” she says, smiling again, holding a manicured hand out for him to shake. Michael grins, reaches out to shake her hand, and casts a sly look at Calum, who’s gazing at Heather with a slightly dazed, faraway look in his eyes.

“Hello,” Michael says, eyes still on Calum and still too giddy from the high of the show to care all too much right now about just how pretty Heather is and just how much she’s Calum’s type. Everyone loved him, them, his and Calum’s songs, and that’s more than one girl in a Hollywood bar has the power to destroy. Even if that bar is the fucking Troubadour.

“You were amazing,” Heather says, and she sounds like she really means it. Pride swells in Michael’s chest - yeah, he was pretty fucking amazing, wasn’t he? - and his gaze flits back from Calum to Heather.

“Thank you,” he says pointedly, and then grins at Calum again, who’s finally managed to tear his gaze away from Heather, looking back at Michael with a slightly sheepish well, what d’you want me to do? expression on his face. Michael just raises his eyebrows at him, still grinning, and then notices Doug swaggering through the door, a cigar dangling lazily between his fingers.

“Alright,” he says loudly, and everyone turns to look at him, because obviously they fucking do, he’s Doug fucking Weston. “Enough of this bullshit. Who wants to go to a party at Mama Cass’s?” There are a few murmurs of assent, and Michael’s about to turn to Calum to ask whether they should go - because frankly, it sounds like there’s going to be free alcohol, and who the fuck is Michael, struggling up-and-comer, to say no to that? - when Ray bursts through the door, brandishing a set of car keys.

“I’m so drunk, and Doug’s just lent me his car!” he announces, swaying slightly on the spot. Michael’s eyes automatically find Calum’s, and they both dissolve into laughter, something warm blossoming in Michael’s stomach at the fact that it’s his eyes that Calum had sought, not Heather’s.

The car journey back to wherever the fuck this house is is short, seven people crammed into the car that Calum had physically manhandled Ray out of driving all screaming at the top of their lungs as the guy in the driver’s seat careers around the bends of the Hollywood hills.

(“You’re drunk, Ray, you’re not fucking driving,” Calum had said sternly.

“I don’t fucking care if I kill myself,” Ray had announced loudly, and the girl on his arms had shot him a half-amused, half-concerned glance.

“It’s not you I’m fucking worried about,” Calum had said, and maybe Michael had imagined it, maybe it had been a trick of the light, but he’s sure he’d seen Calum’s eyes flit to Michael for a split second.)

Michael’s wedged in the back seat, Heather on his right, Calum on on her other side, and he can’t hear what anyone’s saying over the rushing sound of the wind in his ears but he feels so fucking alive, so free, laughing almost hysterically at things that aren’t remotely funny and grinning out at the vast expanse of glimmering lights that make up LA below them.

The car pulls haphazardly into the driveway of a huge house, nothing like anything Michael’s ever seen back home, driveway and garden lit up with a string of softly glowing fairy lights. They all tumble out of the car, Ray and the driver heading straight for the house with two girls in tow, and Michael dawdles for a moment, waiting for Calum and Heather to get out of the car. Calum catches his eye and grins - can you fucking believe this is our lives now, mate? - and slings an arm around Heather’s shoulders, heading for the door. Michael trails behind, adrenaline from the show wearing off now, trying his hardest not to care about the arm around Heather’s shoulders - Calum had still smiled at him over the car , still sought him out to laugh at Ray with, after all.

Heather’s swept up in a group of girls almost as soon as they get inside, chattering excitedly about how someone called Lucille is there and Heather throws them a graceful, apologetic smile as she lets herself be led away, explains something about Lucille being a former flatmate, or maybe a cousin, or something, Michael doesn’t really care. He’s too busy trying to pick a path through the groups of people sat on the floor smiling lazily at each other as they take hit after hit from a bong, bottles clinking like wind chimes, and Michael thinks vaguely that he should maybe work that into a song someday as he trips over hands and feet and mumbled apologies spill from his lips.

Calum picks them up a bottle of beer each, gives one to Michael wordlessly, like he knows Michael needs something to do with his hands. Michael downs half of it in one go, trying to dull the edge of nerves in him, and accepts when a guy walking past offers him a joint. He takes a deep toke, wincing as the taste of weed and alcohol combine in his mouth and handing it over to Calum as he holds it in his lungs, only exhaling when Calum passes it back and taking another deep hit until his vision starts to sharpen, time starts to slow down. Calum grins at him, hands the joint to a passing couple who accept gratefully, and heads for a little sofa in the corner. Michael follows in his wake, throws himself down next to Calum, relishes the way Calum scoots a little closer to him.

“How cool is this, man?” Calum says, exhaling heavily, like he can’t believe what’s happening. Michael knows the feeling.

“Yeah, great,” he says, because Calum’s the lyricist, Calum’s the one that can put these things into words. Michael’s never been any good at that. Michael is good, however, at making fun of Calum. “Apparently Dylan’s here, somewhere,” he adds, schooling his features into sincerity.

Calum whips around to look at him, a look of pure shock and disbelief on his face, like Michael’s taking the piss (not unfounded, Michael thinks, since he is taking the piss), and Michael can’t help the small, fond smile that unfurls on his lips, gaze flitting from Calum’s wide, brown eyes to his slightly parted lips and back again. Michael’s stomach does a little roll, possibly due to the combination of alcohol and weed and possibly due to the mere existence of Calum Hood, and he can’t help grinning at the excitement finding its way into Calum’s eyes. Calum notices, because of course he does, he notices fucking everything, and realisation dawns on his face. He scowls, elbowing Michael gently as he looks back over into the crowd of people, and Michael snorts quietly and takes another sip of his beer.

“Really?” he asks, before he can stop himself, looking over at Calum.

“Yeah,” Calum says, turning to look at Michael, and Michael whips back around before Calum can see the look of please don’t written all over his face.

“Alright.” He nods, trying to convince himself more than Calum that he’s okay with this, because it’s not the first time Calum’s cut his time with Michael short for a fuck, but it never stings any less. Calum’s not his, after all, no matter how much Michael is Calum’s. “Okay.” He shakes his head a little, trying to clear it of the thoughts buzzing through his slightly-inebriated mind, and Calum pauses, still looking at him, a slight crease between his brows.

“You’ll be alright, won’t you?” he asks, and Michael looks back at him, hesitating for a moment when he sees the look of concern on Calum’s face. If he says no, Calum will stay with him, he knows that. The selfish part of him wants to say no just to spite Calum, just to make him stay, just to stop him from breaking Michael’s heart a little more. Instead, the part of him that loves Calum, the biggest part of him, makes him swallow it down, frown like Calum’s just asked something stupid, and nod.

“Yeah, ‘course, yeah,” he says breezily, and Calum looks relieved, pushing himself off the sofa at the same time as Michael.

They head for the table with alcohol on it, because Calum always needs liquid confidence before a conquest and Michael needs to drink until he fucking dies, and Michael pours himself a glass of wine, steadfastly not looking at Calum, whose eyes still haven’t strayed from Heather.

“So, are we still going to go to Tower Records tomorrow, then?” he tries, eyes flitting to Calum, wanting the reassurance that Heather’s just another one-nighter, that Michael’s still got Calum in his waking hours.

“Uh, well, she’s talking about going to some place called Paradise Cove tomorrow,” Calum says, a little absent-mindedly. Michael stares at his glass, and nods tightly. He needs some more fucking weed. Calum notices Michael’s lack of response and turns back to him, and Michael smiles at him, nodding, but he knows he’s failed in getting it to reach his eyes when Calum adds: “We’ll go another time, though?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Michael says, voice about an octave too high in his attempt to be casual, but it’s enough for Calum who turns away with a murmured yeah, yeah.

“America, man,” he says, eyes wide, grin big, reaching for his drink. “Wide open spaces, beautiful girls-” Michael makes a noise that he hopes isn’t taken for the derision it’s meant to be but rather assent, but Calum doesn’t even seem to notice “-it’s a dream come true.” He grins back at Michael, who forces a smile, and raises his glass to Calum's. “Cheers,” Calum adds, and knocks back his vodka, and Michael swallows a good half of his glass of wine in one go.

“Let’s stay here forever,” Calum says, eyes glittering, and then he leans over and presses a kiss to Michael’s cheek. His lips are soft and warm on Michael’s cheek, stubble scratching Michael’s jaw lightly, and Michael has to clench his fists to stop himself turning his head, catching Calum’s lips in a proper kiss. Calum lingers for a moment, or maybe that’s Michael’s marijuana-infused sense of time, before pulling back, grinning widely, and heading off in Heather’s direction. Michael lets himself watch Calum leave, knowing he’s staring after him like a kicked puppy but not even caring who sees him pining as long as it’s not Calum.

The room suddenly feels too hot, too stuffy, cloying heat of the weed surrounding him hitting him all at once, and he heads out of the door that’s just swung shut behind Calum and Heather, taking deep gulps of the cool, crisp air and leaning against the wooden fence of the patio. Something softer has started playing in the background, piano and voice and Michael thinks it might be one of his, but can’t hear well enough over the sounds of people talking to piece it together. Groups of people are swaying to it in the garden, giggles carrying with the gentle breeze, and Michael spots Calum and Heather among them and has to turn away, a bitter taste rising in his throat.

He decides to head for a tree stump near a campfire that nobody’s sitting around, figuring he can always throw himself into the fire if he gets too miserable. Calum and Heather have disappeared from his line of vision, and Michael tries his best not to think about it as he passes the teepee and hears giggles and moans coming from inside, tries not to visualise Calum’s back marked up by someone that isn’t him.

The fire’s hot on his face, and Michael wonders if he could maybe blind himself by staring at it for too long and force Calum to, like, become his personal guide dog, or something, before the (small) non-melodramatic part of his brain threads its way through the alcohol and weed and tells him sternly not to be such a selfish prick. He tears his eyes away, gazing glumly at the tips of his boots instead, listening to everybody laughing and chattering around him and trying to resist the urge to stand up and yell at everybody that they can’t be enjoying themselves in his vicinity, they’re not allowed to laugh near him, can they not see how fucking tragic his life is? All the way in California, just played a sold-out show at the Troubadour, and he’s all on his fucking own.

No one near, he manages to make out from the song, and grimaces as he kicks a stone into the fire, just because he can, because his own music is hitting a little too close to home right now. He strains to listen to the rest of the song, just for something to do that isn’t spiral in his own mind, but it’s drowned out by the rustling sound of someone sitting down on the tree stump to his right.

“Hi,” they say, a little tentatively, and Michael’s stomach sinks. It’s Calum, the only and also the last person Michael wants to see right now.

“Hi,” Michael replies, a little moody, gazing at the fire.

“You okay?” Calum says. Michael shrugs.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he says, and it’s a challenge. Dare you to call me out for being in love with you. Go on. Say it.

“Dunno,” Calum says, and Michael can hear the sound of his leather jacket as he shrugs.

“Why aren’t you with Heather?” Michael says, and tries not to make it come out too bitter. There’s silence from his right.

“Think we both know the answer to that,” Calum says quietly. Michael’s stomach twists uncomfortably, alcohol and weed and unrequited love. Fantastic. Now Calum’s magnanimously giving up getting laid, like he’s ever so sorry, it’s just that his stupid fucking songwriter friend - yes, the ugly, balding one - has a massive crush on him and it’d just break his heart if Calum had sex with someone while Michael was nearby.

“Right,” Michael says, and it’s a little harsh. “Sorry for being such a fucking killjoy.”

“What?” Calum says, and he sounds somewhere between surprised and confused. “Mike, that’s not-”

“Look,” Michael says fiercely, gritting his teeth. “I can’t help it, okay? I’ll get over it, alright, and I’m sorry, but don’t fucking come over here playing the good guy, acting all sanctimonious-”

“Mike, I- hang on, did you just say sanctimonious? ”

“Taking the moral high ground, making such a fucking show of i-”

“I know what sanctimonious means, Michael, I’m-”

“Oh, so you think I don’t know what sanctimonious means? Great, you think I’m a fucking idiot?” Michael says, throwing his hands in the air, knowing he’s not making any sense but wanting to goad Calum into a fight in whatever way he can, wanting a justified reason for the anger and the spite and the bitter sadness without the heavy guilt creeping into the edge of each one.

“Jesus, Michael, I don’t think you’re an idiot, I’m just not being fucking sanctimonious,” Calum says, and there’s a hard edge to his voice now. “You’re such a fucking drama queen, you know that?” Another flare of anger flashes in Michael and he whips around to face Calum.

“Are you fucking serious?” he demands, and there are tears pricking at his eyes that he can’t quite identify either with sadness or fury. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is, Calum? Fucking sorry that I fell in love with you, mate, but don’t act like it’s your cross to b-”

“You’re in love with me?” Calum interrupts, eyes wide, lips parted in shock. Michael swallows. Fuck. Alcohol, weed, and the kind of melodramatic anger only an artist can summon are not a good combination.

“Fuck you,” he bites out. “If you’re just going to make fun of me, I’m going to fucking fire you.”

“You can’t fire me,” Calum says, and Michael wants to scream at him, even more so because he knows Calum’s right. Dick’s the only one with that power.

“I can do what I fucking like, Calu-” he starts irately, but Calum interrupts him again.

“Why the fuck have you got it in for me tonight, Mike?” Calum asks, and it’s a little weary, and the anger immediately dissipates from Michael’s chest as a surge of guilt courses through him. He sags, hunching into himself with a sigh. Cat’s out the fucking bag now, isn’t it, and there’s no point in him lashing out at Calum just to try and get a rise out of him. Calum never gives, not when he knows Michael’s just doing it to try and make himself feel better.

“I don’t,” Michael says sullenly. “Just don’t want you acting like I’m a massive fucking burden, is all.”

“If you’d just let me fucking speak,” Calum begins, and then breaks off, like he’d been expecting Michael to interrupt. Michael just raises his eyebrows.

“Well, go on then,” he mutters, shoving his hands in his pockets just for something to do.

“I thought you knew,” Calum says, and then stops.

“That’s all?” Michael says in disbelief. “That’s what you wanted me to listen to?”

“No, look,” Calum says, and he reaches out for Michael’s thigh, hand warm and gentle and Michael wants to flinch away, but his body won’t let him. “I went off with Heather tonight because-” he pauses, and swallows, like whatever he’s saying is taking more out of him than Michael knows, but presses on. “Because I thought it’s what I needed. And then we got to the teepee, and she started kissing me, and I...all I could think was it was wrong. She was wrong.” Michael stares at the fire steadfastly.

“No offence, Calum,” he says, a little harshly, pulling his leg away from Calum’s hand, “but I’m not really in the mood to give you relationship counselling.”

“Will you just fucking listen?” Calum says, and he sounds exasperated now.

“Get to the fucking point, then,” Michael growls. Calum takes a deep breath.

“I wanted it to be you, ” he says.

“You wanted me to kiss Heather?” Michael says, and laughs humourlessly. “Look, mate, I know I’m fucking lonely, I don’t need your pity, alright, and how how many fucking times do I have to tell you I’m ga- ”

“I wanted to be kissing you.”

Michael hears the fire crackling for the first time, spitting sparks into the air between them.

“You...what?” he says, and chances a look at Calum to see if he’s taking the piss. Calum’s staring at him, looking a little pale but very determined.

“I want to kiss you.” Michael blinks.

“Cal, you’re drunk,” he says heavily, and hesitates before adding, “and you’re straight,” pained, and voice cracking a little. Calum swallows, and shrugs tightly.

“Apparently not,” he says.

“I’m not going to be your experiment,” Michael says bitterly. “What, you find out you might want to kiss a bloke and you think ‘oh, yeah, Michael’s gay and lonely, I’ll give it a shot with him’? I’m not a fucking charity case, Cal.”

“I don’t think you are,” Calum says. “I-” he breaks off, inhales deeply, and exhales heavily. Michael watches his chest rise and fall, feels his own heart thud a little faster. “Look. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first met you. In that little café, remember? We started singing ‘Streets of Laredo’ and pissed everyone off. You were grinning at me, doing that little squinty-eyes thing you do when you’re really laughing at something, and I just wanted to grab you by your ugly fucking lapels and kiss you.”

“But I kissed you,” Michael points out. “On the roof.” And you pushed me away, he doesn’t say, because it hurts too much, but Calum hears it. He sighs, and casts his eyes at the fire, avoiding Michael’s gaze.

“I know,” he says miserably. “I just- I wasn’t sure. I value you so much, Mike, you know that. You’re my heart, my soul, my-”

“Career?” Calum huffs out a laugh, lips quirking up in a smile.

“Yeah, that too,” he says. “I had to be sure. I didn’t want to fuck any of it up, y’know? But I’ve wanted you since the café. Since before that, actually. Since I heard the tape you sent me.”

“You didn’t even know what I looked like,” Michael says, and Calum shrugs.

“Didn’t need to,” he says, still staring into the fire. “Your voice, Mike…” he trails off, like he’s reminiscing, and then clears his throat, catching himself. “Hearing you sing my songs, the songs I wrote about you- ”

“Hang on,” Michael interrupts, because what? What fucking songs has Calum written about him? The King Must Die?

“What?” Calum sounds surprised now. “C’mon, Mike. First Episode at Hienton? Take Me to the Pilot? Your Song?”

“Your Song?” Michael repeats, dumbfounded. Calum finally tears his eyes away from the fire and looks at Michael, a little reproachfully, like it’s Michael’s fault he hadn’t noticed Calum’s cryptic lyrics had been about him.

“‘I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue’?” Calum quips, and Michael blinks.

“Oh,” he says, because he can’t really think of anything else to say, nothing that will do the velvety feeling of God, I’m so fucking in love with you justice. Calum huffs out a laugh, like this is funny somehow, and like their entire world isn’t teetering on a knife’s edge in the middle of a party somewhere in Hollywood, both of them drunk and stoned and tired.

“This isn’t an experiment, Mike,” he says. “I’ve- I, uh. Experimented already, so. I’m sure about it.”

“You’ve- you’ve been with guys?” Michael repeats slowly. Calum shrugs, a little uncomfortably.

“Had to be sure,” he says again. “Would never have experimented with you. You mean too much to me for that.”

“When?”

“When what?”

“When’ve you been with guys?” Calum bites his lip.

“Few times, at clubs,” he says, and Michael thinks back to all the times he’d lost Calum in the crowd, searched for him in vain, given up and gone home alone because he didn’t want to face seeing Calum grinding against a girl in the corner of the room.

“Huh,” Michael says, images shifting to Calum grinding up against a man in the corner of the room. He finds he kind of hates it, kind of doesn’t. Jealousy and pride are licking at each other in his veins, wanting to have been Calum’s first but knowing that Calum did it because he didn’t want Michael to be an experiment, because he wanted to be sure. The thought makes him feel worth something, the same way Calum’s lyrics have made him feel worth something for the first time in years.

“So?” Calum says, and there’s a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“So what?”

“So...can I kiss you?” Michael meets his gaze, giving him one last chance to change his mind and pretend they’ve both forgotten about it by tomorrow morning, and Calum, although he looks fucking terrified, holds it steadily, breathing a little laboured.

Jesus fucking Christ, Michael thinks, stomach flipping, adrenaline making his heart lurch. They’re really doing this, then.

“You did hear me when I said I was in love with you, right?” Michael says, unable to help the smile that plays at his lips, and Calum grins, fear and relief mingling on his face.

“Is that a yes?” he says, and Michael rolls his eyes, leans forwards, cups Calum’s jaw and presses their lips together. Calum’s warm, soft against him, tasting like stale alcohol and stale weed, but Michael finds he doesn’t even care when Calum makes a little noise and melts into him, lips moving against Michael’s and kissing him back. A shock of something like dampened arousal shoots through Michael and he crowds in closer, almost falling off his tree stump, wanting to feel Calum everywhere he can.

Michael’s not sure whether it’s the weed or whether it actually does last forever, but it feels like two centuries have passed before Calum pulls away, breathing heavily. He looks fucking obscene, eyes dark and lips plump and parted, and Jesus Christ, Michael’s way too fucking stoned for this.

“Fuck,” Calum says, touching his lips almost absent-mindedly, and Michael huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“Well,” Calum says stupidly, blinking at Michael, all dark lashes and blown pupils and Michael can’t help himself, leaning forwards and pressing another soft, chaste kiss to Calum’s lips, because he fucking can. Calum’s eyes are wide when Michael draws back (reluctantly, but he’s about to lose his balance on the tree stump), following Michael as he pulls away.

“You look pretty fucked,” Michael tells him, and Calum grins.

“I am pretty fucked,” he agrees. “Fucked in the head for liking you.” Michael tries to scowl but can’t stop the smile breaking through, because fuck, Calum likes him. Jesus.

“You’re such a dickhead,” he says, but he’s grinning, and Calum’s grinning back.

“Yeah,” Calum says, eyes soft. “But at least I’m your dickhead, right?”

“Yeah,” Michael says gently, holding his hand out, fingers splayed, even though it’s far too fucking hot by the fire for this, and Calum slots his fingers between Michael’s, his hand warm and heavy in Michael’s. “Not that you have much choice, anyway. I’m the only one that’d put up with you.” Calum laughs, and squeezes Michael’s hand.

“You’re one to talk,” he says pointedly, and Michael thinks yeah, he’s kind of got a point. Calum hadn’t been wrong to call him a drama queen.

“Well, at least you know how to shut me up, now,” Michael says.

“Yeah,” Calum says, grin turning a little wicked. “What, you think there’s any other reason I’d want to kiss you?” Michael manages a scowl this time, and goes to elbow Calum, forgetting he’s balanced on a fucking tree stump and falling right off, pulling Calum with him. Michael lands on the grass between the two of them with a thud, ground pressed uncomfortably into his back, but when he looks up to see Calum sprawled on top of him, face inches from Michael’s, he can’t bring himself to care.

“Good job,” Calum deadpans, and then they both burst out laughing, because fuck, this is fucking ridiculous. They’re on the floor at a party in California after Michael’s first night at the fucking Troubadour, drunk and high out of their minds, and Calum wants to kiss Michael. None of it makes any sense to Michael, a chronological string of non sequiturs, but it all makes warm embers burn in the pit of his stomach and he fucking loves it, fucking loves Calum.

“God, I fucking love you,” he tells Calum, and Calum grins, resting his forehead against Michael’s.

“Don’t blame you, mate,” he murmurs, capturing Michael’s lips in another kiss.

Lay me down in sheets of linen, Michael hears his own voice suggest over the crackling fire and the buzz of voices, but it’s Calum’s words in Michael’s mouth, and Michael grins into the kiss, thinking yeah, he might do just that.

#malum #5sos fic #5sos slash #5sos fanfiction #5sos fanfic #watch me rewrite literally every scene from rocketman but malum #this is the most selfindulgent fic i've ever written but you know what #what the fuck is fic for if its not for the writer eh #if taron egerton is getting royalties from his tiny dancer cover i am singlehandedly paying his bills #for the first half of this fic picture me pausing and rewinding and pausing and rewinding the scene #trying to watch their movements and get the dialogue right #god actors really do be acting huh

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fairydust-stuff · 4 years

Text

Tape Banana Ash & Yut Lung fan fiction

Warning this is a hurt comfort fic with implied Non con and Major character death though no more then the actual show. It also has one of the most fluffy dark endings, i've written.

“ Ah Mr Lee what a pleasant surprise,might i ask the reason for this call”

Ash, Eiji, Ibe and Max are huddled around taking advantage of the fact Ash bugged Golzine’s private phone while he was in the manor so now they could hear all of his calls. They heard a couple about Banana Fish but this one was interesting to say the least.

“ You know exactly why I'm calling…..” Yut Lung sounds on the verge of a breakdown. Ash would be lying if he wasn’t enjoying hearing him squirm.

“ I see you received my video then” Golzine says casually.

“ There’s no need for this…. sneakiness between allies” Yut Lung argues.

“ This of it as a lesson an elder educating a youngster on proper respect,” Golzine replies.

“ I apologize if my pursuing Ash without your leave offended you in any way” Yut Lung was all charm.

“ All is forgiven as long as you’ve learned to be a little less arrogant” Golzine promises.

“ I’ll try it appears i have much to learn,” Yut Lung says with forced humbleness.

“ I want complete use of your men, you don’t get involved unless I call for you. Also i want more frequent meetings between us” Golzine demands.

“ Of course and i presume this mishap will go away?” Yut Lung presses

“ Yut Lung you shouldn’t presume anything” there’s a cruel glee in Golzine’s tone.

The group disengages at the dial tone.

“ So Golzine has some kind of black mail material on him now, that’s karma” Max laughs.

Eiji is wearing that cute devilish grin of his.

“ Maybe he got caught embezzling funds from the foundation. Either way it may reveal some weakness we can exploit” Ash says

“Can you hack him?” Ibe asks

Ash smiles darkly “ Oh i can do better” he dials a number on his phone

“ Hello Sing, you wouldn’t happen to know Yut Lung’s password for his private account?”

“ Try Cao Zhi, he’s one of Yut Lung’s favorite poets,” Sing suggested. Ash did, nothing “ Anything else?” he asked

“ Song of Everlasting Sorrow?” Sing said with a shrug

“ Still nothing” Ash responds.

“ Despair and Courage” said Sing after a moment.

“ Bingo, thanks Sing!” Ash said

“ After what he did to my guys, i want to see that shit fall” Sing said.

Ash hangs up taking note of some stuff to check out later he finds the video and clicks on it.

Golzine and what appears to be Yut Lung ranting around his own dining room clearly drunk.

“ That’s the blackmail” Ash feels very disappointed

“ Given how arrogant that guy is it does make sense” Eiji says.

“ Maybe we can get a few laughs out of it” says Max, trying to look on the bright side.

“ Or at least something to annoy him next time he kidnaps me” Eiji brings up.

“ Woah a drunk little cat” one of Dino’s men cackles

“ Not a cat, i’m a snake” Yut Lung hisses at Dino, the group laughs.

“ Do you always consume this much wine?” Golzine asks pleasantly

“ i feel sad a lot” Yut Lung replies “ wine make it better,” he adds with a bitter laugh.

“ Why are you sad?” Golzine asks in a concerned tone

“ I don’t like Eiji, stupid, Eiji” he pouts.

“ Oh” Golzine says.

“ You stare a lot, your old enough to be my grandpa. Dad old enough to be mom’s grandpa” Yut Lung laughs again bitterly.

“ Your mother was young then” Golzine says

“ Where’s Sing?” He asked quietly

“ He abandoned you for Ash” Golzine says with false sympathy.

“ I liked Sing” Yut Lung says “ Why Sing leave me for Ash” he whispers.

“ Ash is better then you”Golzine says patiently then goes on a rant about Ash as his wonderful creation that makes Ash want to break the screen.

“ hate him for it” Yut Lung admits “ i kinda like him” he adds.

“ You like Ash?” Golzine asks

“ He doesn’t like me” Yut Lung says somberly he stumbles and Golzine catches him.

“ Easy there lets sit down” he leads a wobbly Yut Lung to the large sofa.

Where Blanca?” Yut Lung asks him

“ You dismissed him you were angry, he only wanted to help Ash” Golzine says.

“ I want Blanca” Yut Lung tries to leave the parlor and one of Golzine’s goons locks the doors. “ Let me ou….” One of Dino’s men covers his mouth and drags him back to the couch

“ Now, we were having fun. Here you like wine right” Dino pours him another glass. Ash suddenly feels a pit in his stomach suddenly remembering that Yut Lung is younger than him by at least two years. Why the hell did that never occur to him till now.

“ I don’t like you” Yut Lung insists but he takes another glass, his hands shake slightly.

“ So your a pretty liar then” Golzine says, taking one of his hands and rubbing it against his face. Yut Lung yanks it out of his grip.

Golzine looks at him amused “ I prefer you like this, you're usually so cold and aloft ” he says.

“ I wanna go” Yut Lung tries to get up but Golzine pushes him down.

“ Shhhhh” he undoes Yut Lungs hair, the camera zooms in it hits Ash one of Dino’s creeps is filming, this was planned.

“ No brothers dead no more” Yut Lungs tries to shove him off.

“ Your not strong like Ash just a trembling, broken mess” Golzine smiles viciously “ I saw through your little mask from the beginning” he pauses “ I was going to let you keep it, as long as you played nice but you had to be a brat”

“ Here hold the camera” says a cold voice Ash feels a chill run down his spine at the sound of the man from the gay bar. He’s wearing a mask but Ash knows that voice anywhere.

“ Get away from me! H…..” Yut Lung goes ballistic at the sight of him, Dino gags him.

“ Mr Golzine that makes it less fun” The man complains.

“His men are outside as long as he doesn’t call they won’t come.” Golzine says. “ Its the Lee way to only obey direct orders”

“ I’m afraid Mr Lee I'm the reason you're in this predicament, see Mr Golzine wanted to get back at you and as someone who’s observed his allies. I noticed your quite the alcoholic, I prompted him to take advantage of your vice” he purrs, touching the boys cheek. Yut Lung tries to bite him.

“ Incredible so much viciousness in something so delicate and soft to the touch” the man says.

“ He’s nothing compared to Ash Lynx” Golzine scoffs.

“ Still, I will enjoy him, why limit myself to one type of prey?” the man smiles savagely “ And after i’m done with him you’ll be aching for his tight little body”

“ True” Golzine laughs “ I love nothing more than a beautiful boy in distress”

Max slams his hand on the pause button looking furious. This knocks Ash out of horrified stupor enough to close the laptop completely.

No one says a dam word awkward silence fills the room. Ash should have suspected he knew Dino but Yut Lung had always seemed so icy and vicious, un touchable.

“ He’s like you” Cain and Sing had said. Maybe Ash had projected too much of his own unstoppable raging beast onto the other boy. Yut Lung had worn the mask well better then even Ash ever had. Everyone looked at each other waiting for someone to say something.

“ Its all my fault” Eiji gasps “ At the manor the night Shorter died, Dino had me and Yut Lung in his bed he was going to…….but then the phone rang” he tears up “ I was so confused he seemed so calm about it…..i didn’t understand”

“ Eiji its not your fault” Ibe insisted.

“ I didn’t want to understand!” Eiji says quietly.

“ Its mine, I knew he was like me,” Ash confessed. “ That’s why its so easy for me to hate him” the blond confesses.

“ No! It's no one's fault but the bastards who touched you! My god at least fifteen in Golzine’s bed. I don’t even want to think about how young he started doing that” Max exclaimed. Ash calls up Sing again “ Hey did you find anything” the boy asks

“ I want it gone, take your guys break into Golzine’s manor delete, smash every trace of that video” Ash orders.

“ Did that snake capture Eiji again?” Sing sighs.

“ No its just a really bad video Sing, one i would never use against an enemy” Ash insists.

“ That bad huh?” Sing replies. “ Ash did someone hurt Yut Lung?” he asked tightly

“ You sound almost concerned,” Ash says.

“ I know he hurt my guys but i just don’t like the thought of anyone harming him” Sing confessed. Ash flashed back to a drunken Yut Lung asking for Sing.

“ i think several people hurt him” Ash says after a moment

“ I think so too” Sing said sadly. “ I’ll get my guys on it” he added...

Ash cannot distract himself from waiting for the phone call confirming the mission was a success. He practically jumps to answer the phone when it rings “ Confirmed?” He asks quickly.

“ We ran into some trouble. Golzine increased his security since we last broke in, then Blanca showed up. He really saved our asses. Yut Lung sent him to do exactly what we were doing” Sing explained “ That guy is so cool!” the fourteen year old starts rambling about Blanca.

Of course Yut Lung wouldn’t just take his assault lying down like a good boy. He'd act sweet and submissive then use his resources to gain the upper hand. We really are quite similar.

“ Did you get everything?” Ash asks a bit impatiently

“ Yeah do you want the camera?” Sing asks seriously

“ Yes” Ash says after a moment. “ Sing do you know Yut Lung’s number?” he asked

Sing tells him and Ash dials.

“ Blanca is that you?” Yut Lung asks tentatively

“ Its Ash, I have your camera” Ash here’s a sharp exhale on the other end of the line.

“ At least your demands won’t be as heinous as Golzine’s” Yut Lung sounds more calm now. “ Banana fish? Me to leave Eiji alone? Use of my men? Helping you disappear?” he lists

“ A meeting” Ash says

“ Alright makes more sense to do it in person” Yut Lung responds casually. They set a time and a place…

“ Welcome Ash Lynx normally i’d greet you in the parlor but….” Yut Lung trails off.

“ You can't step foot in that room without flashbacks” Ash realizes as he stands in the dining room.

“ Please sit can i get you a drink or would you like to proceed?” Yut Lung asks

Ash hands him the camera Yut Lung gapes at him in silence. “ You’d give up your leverage for nothing” he says quietly.

“ When i was ten i had several of these videos. I’d have given anything for one person not to have put them up” Ash responds.

Yut Lung takes the camera and says “ Well at least this inconvenience is over with?” his tone is light.

“ What happened last night was not an inconvenience, it was rape and its happened to you and i multiple times” Ash states bluntly.

“ Stop ok, it was just something that happens in our world!” Yut Lung insists

“ That doesn’t make it right” Ash argues.

“ It was my fault, I shouldn't have gotten drunk around Papa Dino” Yut Lung says brokenly.

“ I ran away from home and accepted a ride from a stranger. We all make mistakes, sometimes those mistakes are costly. That doesn’t mean the bastards that hurt us aren’t the ones responsible” Ash argues.

“ I think this is the most we’ve said to each other” Yut Lung says thoughtfully.

Ash looks at him “ Want to smash the camera?” he asked

“ Together, for your ten year old self” Yut Lung responds.

“ Together, one, two three!” The two of them hurl the camera as hard as they can at the walls and proceed to stomp on it until the lens cracks and the frame breaks.

Then Ash’s phone rings “ Hello?” he asks

“ You little Lynx retrieving my camera like that” Golzine chuckles.

“ I’m not giving it to you bastard” Ash says calmly putting him on speaker.

“ No no hold on to your leverage just like I taught you. Do you want a piece of the action? I know how you like Asian boys” Dino continues.

“ Hello this is a piece of the action” Yut Lung says in his soft voice then he holds the phone up to the glass which he crushes under his foot.

“ You smashed up my camera you little whore!” Golzine growled

“ Considering your so hungry that you have to tie down young boys to get action. I’d say your the one who cannot go without” Ash taunts.

“ i hope you got something good out of it” Golzine grumbles.

“ I got nothing from it” Ash informs him.

“ But that’s not….”

“ Not what you’d do. You may have raised and fucked him up and i’ll admit some of your terrible teachings rubbed off on him, but Ash is not you. He’ll never be the kind of person who takes advantage of boys like me” Yut Lung said cooly.

Ash looked at him in surprise.

“ Looks like the kitten grew some claws” Golzine laughed “ You weren’t so gutsy last night, though you did make a lot of noise” he taunts.

“ So you molested me, so what? You and half of New York. I had claws long before then. If I didn't have claws I wouldn't have found a way to get through every abuse, you pathetic old perverts threw at me. I simply learned to sharpen the claws, i was born with” Yut Lung said boldly. Ash watched his face change into something darker

“ You have no claws, you're a sad old man chasing a teenage boy. He latched onto because, he was unable to deal with his own morality. You're not Ash’s greatest enemy, creator or father. You're just a pathetic little groupie obsessed with an idol. Since the Ash in your head doesn’t exist, the fact he chose to save me proves it”

“ I’ll kill you!” Golzine roars

“ Your not worthy of killing me” Yut Lung’s voice dripped with disdain, then he casually hung up on Golzine.

“ Did you just?” Ash was stunned

“ You’ve been feeding Dino’s ego this whole time with your campaign against him. I grew up with egoistic people , i’ve learned how their minds work” Yut Lung replied.

“ He still has to die” Ash pointed out.

“ I have an idea” Yut Lung said “ I need you to contact Blanca” he adds…

“ Rather rough Blanca” Yut Lung chides at the sight of a beaten Golzine hanging limply on the wall.

“ I failed to protect you just like i failed Ash” Blanca said remorsefully.

“ You helped me get the tape, you were there when it counted” Yut Lung put a hand on his arm.

“ Jeez Yue could you be more obvious!” Sing rolled his eyes

“ You're one to talk practically drooling in Ash’s wake” Yut Lung responded.

“ Sure you're not projecting?” Sing asks The two of them bicker until they're interrupted by Golzine’s groan.

“ Heeello!” Ash waves in a sarcastic cutesy way.

“ Ah so the creation destroys its creator and takes his place to build a great legacy” Golzine gloats.

“ Hi you piece of shit i’m Sing soo Ling” Sing says smacking his fists together

“ Doesn’t ring a bell” he said.

“ Shorter Wong was my cousin,” Sing said.

“ You mean that stupid street punk with the mowhawk” Golzine tastes his own blood. Sing gears up for another punch.

Yut Lung pulls Ash toward the door “ Come on Ash lets go get some ice cream” the blond looks at him as if he’s crazy but see’s the younger give him a trust me look. Then starts to follow him out.

“ What are you doing Ash? Your going to end me right?” Ash almost turns his head in Golzine's direction.

“ Keep walking” Yut Lung mutters Ash obeys him.

“ Ash isn’t going to be killing you, i am” Sing says, punching him again.

“ What i’m the great King Pin of New york, that’s all i get ended by some punk?” Golzine asks “ Ash, Ash?”

Ash continues to follow Yut Lung toward the door “ i overpowered you, i beat you down, i made you!” Golzine yells “ where are you going, you drunken slut?” he demands.

Yut Lung continues to lead Ash out “ You're not even going to watch, i’m your greatest enemy and you don’t even want to watch my demise?” Golzine asks

Yut Lung pauses“ Ash, i just remembered i have a hair appointment, we can do ice cream afterwards right?” he asked

“ Of course Yut Lung” Ash says then opens the door. “ Hair appointments, ice cream Ash Ash Ash Ash!” the blond slams the door shut.

“ I cann’t believe that worked” Ash says as a gunshot echoes from the other side of the door.

“ I told you, people with big ego’s hate being ignored” Yut Lung collapses against the door with relief, his face tight with tension, his body shaking.

“ You were really bothered by seeing him huh” Ash says.

“ I can still feel him all over” Yut Lung says “ I can even taste him” there’s a look of broken revulsion on his face. “ I couldn’t let him win through,” the younger boy insists.

“ You did good” Ash informs him.

“ He won’t be the last, there're so many bastards in our world and i’m trapped here with them. I tried to become like you, fierce, ruthless to never look back or hesitate. No matter what i still end up helpless at the mercy of some bigger beast” Yut Lung confesses.

“ Is that why you want me to kill you?” Ash asked him

“ You have a chance at freedom, that's why I hate you!” Yut Lung confesses tears drip down his cheek. “ You have the power to live freely, no matter what. My blood is always going to tie me to this Family. The only way i’m leaving this life is in a box”

Ash turns to him “ You can be the youngest mafia boss to retire in history. In exchange you stop tormenting Eiji and everyone” the blond stresses.

“ But how would i live? As much as i hate it, i’m codependent on my family’s wealth” Yut Lung admits.

" Leave that to me" Ash promises...

" i cann't believe i'm taking Yut Lung Lee to Japan?" Eiji sighs

" He'll blend in better then i would" Ash points out. " Lots of Chinese people live in Japan its not that unsual"

" He hates me and i'm not exactly fond of him either" Eiji points out.

" Too bad because i was thinking of adopting him" Ash says

Eiji stares at him in horror " don't even joke about that" he shutters.

" You get to boss him around big brother Eiji" Ash says.

" Since when did i agree to that?" Yut Lung scowls clutching his luggage a very small portion of the things he owned. He'd have to get used to the simple life, Eiji told him cheerfully.

" You go to Japan your under Eiji's care, so you have to obey him and Ibe" Ash says.

" What if they do something stupid like make friends with the Yakuza?" Yut Lung asks

" If that happens you are in change until i get there" Ash agrees after a long pause.

" Thank you Ash, for everything" Yut Lung tells him sincerely before stepping onto the train that will take them to the air port.

" I have to sort out some things here, then i'll join you two" Ash promises. He stands there and waves good bye to both of them.

" Don't be too long, i may start experimenting with putting certain herbs in Eiji Chan's tea" Yut Lung yells out the window!

" i heard that you little shit!" Eiji yells back

Ash laughs then turns and walks back to his concrete playground his phone rings " Hey honey just finishing up skinning a Foxx" the man says cheerfully.

" Good " Ash hisses.

" Need anything else while i'm in town?" Blanca asked him

" i need your help with persuading a certain Chinese crime organization to let the head of the Lee family retire early, without a bullet to the head, got any ideas?" Ash asks him

#Banana Fish #fanfiction #Yut Lung & Ash Lynx #implied noncon #Ash and Yut Lung team up #standing up to papa Dino #protective Blanca #very protective angry Sing #Foxx gets what's coming to him as well

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