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perfectpaperbluebirds · 3 years

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A Darcy Day Off

As promised, I present ~6,800 words of a sick, miserable Fitz/willi/am Dar/cy. I’ve been working on this on and off for an embarrassingly long time so I’m glad to finally clear it out of my WIP folder to make room for new things. But honestly, it was a pleasure to write, and I hope some of you take pleasure in reading it as well!

Definitely he first chapter, and honestly the first 2 chapters are mostly exposition, so if you want to skip straight to the sickfic goodness and reduce the word count, head to chapter 3. But I had fun writing (and worked hard on) the banter and conversation in the beginning, so I opted to keep it.

( @chezsnez @empresskaze @groundcontrol21 you all asked so nicely, so I hope this is what you were looking for! )

“Darcy, dear, what’s keeping you? I thought we were to meet in the library for tea,” Elizabeth called. She found him still in his study, hunched over the desk. She danced to his side, planting a kiss atop his head. He leaned against her briefly in greeting.

“I’m sorry, my dear. I had more business to attend to today than I’d realized. Just finishing up now.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly, then his nose, trying to be rid of a tickle that had been infuriating him all day.

“Always at your work. I wonder our estate isn’t the finest run in Britain. And here I used to think people of high class such as yourself worried for nothing but amusing themselves all day.” She gently rubbed his neck where she knew he always got an ache when he wrote. He kissed her hand fondly.

“You are of such a class, too, now, my love. And how do you know it isn’t the finest? I’d be willing to wager a year’s salary this estate could be measured against parliament’s own estates and be proven worthy, if I have anything to say about it.”

“You pour your very soul into all that goes on here, and it’s one of the many things I adore about you. I am proud every day to be the mistress of such an estate. Only I wish you wouldn’t work so hard and take more time to enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

“Are you accusing me of ignoring you, dearest? Only say the word and I would throw all my responsibilities to the winds and devote myself fully to your entertainment.”

He kept his tone light and playful, teasing her, but looked at her closely even as he did. Had he been neglecting her too much of late? He had had several pressing business matters on his mind these last weeks, and he knew he had been at his desk more than usual. Lizzie had not complained of course, and had been nothing but supportive and helpful, but the last thing he would ever want to do is make her doubt where his priorities lay, namely that she was foremost in his mind and heart, and in all things.

“Not at all, for you well know I’m quite fond of my own company. However, I can't help but worry about you. You put too much responsibility on yourself; you are positively careworn these days. I only wish your more lighthearted side could see the light of day now and again, and not just when we’re alone.”

“I am my truest self when I’m with you.” He kissed her hand again, then rubbed his nose. “I will always struggle being lighthearted while working. The two have never gone hand in hand in my experience; gravity and soberness were expected whilst doing business in my growing years under my father, and others. All the more reason I have need of your influence.”

She kissed his head again. “Very well, I accept the mantle of helping you find levity in your working hours. If only so that the strain you put on yourself will not affect your health. You put on a casual, careless demeanor in public, but I know better. You bear the weight of the world on those broad shoulders of yours, and that is a burden no man is meant to carry, even by his own choice. So come now, and join your wife for tea. The letters can wait another hour or so, surely.

“Indeed they can.” He stood and stretched stiffly. The chill winter wind howled outside and the sound made him shiver, glad for the roaring heat from the fire nearby, and in every room in the house as he moved to escort his wife to the library.

~~~~~~~~~~

The couple spent a pleasant hour or two in their favorite room in the house, chatting warmly at times, and sitting in comfortable silence at others. The relentless wind made Darcy feel sleepy and lazy, and he wanted nothing more than to take his wife’s advice and take the rest of the day to relax. He would have been content to remain here for the rest of the evening with his favorite person and simply read and chat and perhaps nap. But he had two more letters that needed to make the post tomorrow, and if he did not finish them now, he never would. He stood quietly and brushed his lips across his wife’s cheek. She nuzzled back, then watched as he lingered before the library fire longer than necessary, warming his hands and rear.

“Are you all right, my dear?” she asked.

“Oh, yes. I’ve developed a slight headache is all, and it makes the task of my remaining letters all the more daunting.”

“I can imagine. I wish you would take a day off sometime soon, so that you may rest for longer than a few hours at a stretch. I believe it would do you wonders. Winter is generally a time for peaceful contemplation, but it’s been a frenzy of activity for you these past months. You are overdue for some leisure, my love.”

“You are right, as usual. Sometime very soon, dearest, I will take a week or two off and we will spend all the leisurely hours together you could wish. Perhaps we’ll even have a romp outside in the snow. Within the next month, once this mess is more or less cleaned up. Would that suit you?”

“It would suit me very fine indeed. While you could never be accused of neglecting me, I have been missing my husband of late, most especially his smile. That has been the most absent part of you.”

“For that I am sorry. I don’t like to bring my business affairs into our life together. My lovely, patient wife. You are too good to me.

“Well and I could say the same of you, so there. Enough of that. Come kiss me again, then go to your work before you fall asleep standing up.”

“As you command.” He was truly in danger of this, as he felt his lids growing heavier all the time, so he forced himself to move away from the pleasant heat, going to her side and kissing her fully this time, savoring her sweet lips before reluctantly pulling away. “Away I go. See you soon, darling.”

Mr. Darcy could not rid himself of the clinging fatigue for the rest of the evening. His remaining letters took longer than usual, and he knew they were not as well done as they ought to be, but at least they were done. When they were finished, he tossed his pen aside eagerly and stretched his stiff neck. Perhaps he should take those leisure days sooner rather than later. He really hadn’t been feeling his best lately, and the wintery weather that had had them in its grasp for weeks certainly wasn’t helping. Also, he missed his wife, though he had just seen her. He missed spending time with her, and not just in stolen hours here and there.

Right now all he wanted was to curl up beside her in bed, and talk of sweet nothings, and perhaps make sweet love. Hopefully that would help shake this irritating headache. Yes, they were long overdue for quality time spent together. He would make arrangements for some time away immediately, hopefully as early as a fortnight from now. The thought immediately made him calmer as he finished up a few small things, then hurried to find her and begin the more pleasant part of the evening.

“Heh-KERRR-CHOOOOO! Heh- heh- KITSHHH’CHOOOO”

A bellowing sneeze startled Elizabeth from her book the next morning, and the even louder one that followed caused her to go investigate it’s source. To her surprise, following the sound of the miserable sniffles led to her husband’s study, where she found him ineffectually wiping his dripping nose with an already-damp handkerchief.

“My dear Mr. Darcy, is that you making all that racket? My heavens, bless you! I don’t know as I’ve ever heard a sneeze so resounding in all my life. Were you holding it in all morning for it to grow to such a volume?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he sniffled sourly. “It was merely a sneeze.”

She quirked an eyebrow, amused. “I would beg to argue. You sneeze particularly violently, my dear. Likely because, as I noted, you hold them in until you can’t anymore.”

“Well, since you are evidently the expert,” he muttered as he pressed on with his work, coughing softly.

She rarely saw this severe, prickly side of him these days, and this, more than anything else, concerned her and made her know he shouldn’t be teased at present. He really must be feeling poorly. She moved to his side and pressed against him as she had the day before, rubbing his shoulder. He did not respond, physically or otherwise.

“You are unwell, my love. You should go take some rest. You quite look as if you have gotten the wrong end of this cold of a sudden.”

“I am fine. Don’t worry yourself. I am only in need of some tea and I shall be quite well.”

“I’d be happy to fetch you tea, but I’d be happier to fetch it for you in bed, or at least in your chair in the library. I fear these large windows will do you no favors with the draft.”

“I have many things I need to see to today. I cannot take time to rest. And all my files are here in the study. I haven’t been ill since I was a boy. I’m certainly not going to be ill now.”

Lizzie sighed and shook her head at the foolishness of males. “Have it your way, then. I’ll see you get some tea. Was there anything else you’d like?”

“Just a scone or two. Thank you, dearest.” He finally turned his gaze to her, and she saw true gratitude there, despite the reddened, watery eyes and dripping nose. “And forgive my rudeness when you came in. You startled me, but I should not speak to you like that. Please forgive me.”

“Of course you’re forgiven, and I am sorry I startled you. You know I only worry about you because I love you.”

“As I love you, my Lizzie.” He coughed wetly into his handkerchief. “Now please, if you’d leave me. I really do have much to do, and you are ever my truest distraction. I will see you this evening. And please know, I am doing all this so that we can have our time together very soon.”

“Yes, my dear.” She sighed softly and made her way out, stopping one of the servants to request her husband’s tea and scones. She gave explicit instructions for the type of tea and what was to be in it, things to soothe an aching throat and ward off fever. If he wouldn’t have a care for his own body, she would be forced to do it for him. She only hoped he would see reason sooner than later and take himself off to bed before he caught his death in that drafty study.

~~~~~~~~~~

Of course, Darcy was endlessly studious and conscientious, not to mention stubborn, and so he stayed in his study, or was running around with different servants and community members all day. He did his best to conduct his business as excellently as ever, despite how very unwell he was beginning to feel.

When their paths would cross later in the day though, she could see he was flagging. His cough had become quite the nuisance, and his nose and lips were raw and chapped. Dark circles began to show under his eyes, vivid against sickly pallor. Every now and again, she heard a massive, wet sneeze disturb the air from wherever he was. She gave him sympathetic smiles and little encouragements whenever she could, but what she truly wanted was to see him to bed and tend to his every need there. The misery on his face made her ache for him. If only he wasn’t so proud. And yes, stubborn.

She was quite relieved when he joined her at their evening meal, wearily announcing he was done working for the day, and she told him such. He was quiet and withdrawn for the remainder of the evening, aside from his frequent sniffles and coughs, and the occasional explosive sneeze, which never failed to make her jump, even as they became more and more frequent.

Taking his lead, she also said very little, reading exhaustion in every line of his frame, especially as his sneezes and coughs harshened. If she had been another woman, and he another man (indeed, her parents came to mind), she would have said again that she wished he would take the day off tomorrow. But it was not in her to nag, and if she had he would only have become angry, or withdrawn completely. She had said her part this morning, and she knew he had heard her and remembered. What he did from here was his choice alone.

She watched him unobtrusively as he dozed by the fire that evening, feeling such love in her breast for her dedicated, hardworking husband, but no small amount of worry either. They had been married nearly three years, and she had never once seen him ill. She hoped it was truly only trifling, as he kept insisting it was whenever anyone asked.

They went to bed earlier than usual, her feigning equal tiredness for his sake, so he wouldn’t feel he was being a burden. But indeed, all she wanted of the rest of this day was to lie beside him in bed, perhaps rub his back, and just be near him for whatever he needed. To her delight, that is exactly what happened. He said very little, and asked for nothing, stifling sneezes now and again even as his frequent, chesty coughing fits worsened, but merely lay beside her and let her rub away at his aches and chills as he fell asleep.

Darcy and Eliza were both early risers, and both loved to greet the day while it was still fresh and full of promise. Being the man though, Mr. Darcy was always up and about before his wife, for it took him far less time to dress, and there were several things he liked to see to before breakfast, though he never neglected to kiss her goodbye as he left.

Imagine her surprise then, when the next morning found him still soundly asleep beside her when her maids came in to help her dress at their usual time. The sound of their arrival woke her, but her poor husband hardly stirred. She hurried out of bed, calming the poor, startled ladies in hushed tones, assuring them they had done no wrong. They helped her dress and fix her hair simply and comfortably before Elizabeth shooed them out again, saying she wasn’t sure what they should tell the other staff, as she had no idea what mind her husband would be in when he finally woke.

Lizzie sighed as they left. Now it would be all over the house that he was sick abed, and who knew what other irrepressible rumors. He would hate that. However, at present it was the truth so he would just have to deal with it whenever he woke. In the meantime, she picked up her book and read in the chair by the fire, wanting to be close when he woke.

That turned out to be shortly thereafter. He first began to toss and turn a bit, then he started to cough, then he nearly made her jump out of her chair with one of his tremendous sneezes.

“Heh -KER- CHUUUUHHF!” The noise was thick and miserable-sounding, more than hinting at painfully clogged sinuses and a raw, scratchy throat. While he was mopping the mess from his face with his handkerchief, his lungs decided to take their turn at clearing themselves as well, and he erupted into a series of wet, strenuous coughs.

She made her way to his side during this sad display, gently stroking his tousled hair as he quieted. He groaned softly when he was able and pressed into her embrace, still holding the handkerchief to his nose, eliciting a cluck of sympathy from his wife at his sorry state.

“My poor dear,” she murmured. “Your health is much worse this morning.”

“Mby head is like a lead weight od the pillow,” he croaked. “Fatigue weighs dowd mby limbs dreadfully.”

“Then you will not work today?”

“Mby wise wife advised that I look after mby body more, and today mby body tells mbe I must rest, so rest I shall,” he murmured sleepily. “As long as you’ll keeb mbe company?”

“I would love nothing more. This is perhaps not the leisurely day we had hoped for, but I’ll accept it just the same." She tenderly caressed his cheek, frowning as she felt it. "You are terribly feverish, darling." Yet she hardly needed to feel, for just by looking at his flushed, sweaty face and seeing him shake with chills, the fever made its presence known.

"And yet I'mb chilled to the bone. I had forgotten how beastly udpleasant it is to catch cold," he rasped with a thick sniffle.

"Indeed, it makes one feel for your poor sister all the more. It seems she is laid up with a cold every other week. Now, how does tea appeal to you? And perhaps some food? You hardly touched supper last night."

"Tea would be lovely. Mby abbetite still eludes me however. But, if only to please you, I would try sumb toast and an egg."

Lizzie had servants running for his requests in short order while Darcy tended to his nose, blowing it over and over, soaking through more than one handkerchief. His tray was delivered in record time. Seeing it arrive, Darcy slowly levered himself to a sitting position, pressing a hand to his temple.

"Mby head is throbbi'g," he mumbled.

Elizabeth pressed the cup of tea into his hands, looking sympathetic. "Drink some. It may help your head."

He did as he was bid, drawing his knees to his chest like a boy as he drank while she rubbed his back. However, another tremendous sneeze almost made him spill the whole thing.

“Ah- ah- KITCHSHOOOOO! Ugh…” He sought his handkerchief desperately, and when Elizabeth handed it to him, he pressed it harshly against his streaming nose to stem the flow, groaning as he did. Elizabeth hastily took the teacup from his again, for it seemed in danger of being upended at any moment.

"Bless you! My poor dear, what can I do for you? Besides keeping a stack of handkerchiefs here for your poor nose."

"I would ask you to help mbe dress in a few moments," he said, his voice muffled behind the fabric as he tried to rub away the headache between his eyes. "While I will be as quick as I cad, I must speak to mby steward and give hib sumb idstructions for mby absence."

"Can you not write him instead? I fear for you going out in the cold, lest this settles in your chest."

"Mby head aches too miserably to do a probber job with writing. I fear I would forget somethi'g crucial. Ndo, I'll quickly go dowd and speak to hib, and thed I'll return. Ndo going outside for mbe today, never fear."

She sighed and nodded, knowing he would not be dissuaded. "At least finish your tea and try some egg before you go so you don't collapse on the stairs."

"I'mb far from collapse mby dear, I assure you." His general appearance said otherwise though, as he had been miserably coughing into his handkerchief throughout the whole conversation, and had yet to stop shivering. However, she held her tongue and served him breakfast instead.

Lizzie saw he made an effort to eat as much as he could, and though it was only a few bites, she was slightly placated. She knew he would not relax until he had set what affairs he could in order. So, after his tea was gone, when he rose and began to dress, she assisted him, for she realized the sooner he left, the sooner he would return.

"I'd rather not ri'g for mby valet, as I'd be worried I would sdeeze on hib," muttered Darcy, looking embarrassed as she straightened his jacket while he futilely tried to blow his nose, which only served to make him cough yet again.

"It's no trouble at all, dear. Only please hurry back. I truly worry for that cough."

"I'll be back under your watchful eye as quick as I cad, dearest," he murmured, grazing her ear with his lips as she slipped an extra handkerchief in his pocket. With that, he was gone, his boots thumping down the hall wearily.

~~~~~~~~~~

Time dragged as she waited for him. While she knew he could take care of himself and she didn't need to be here the moment he returned, she also knew he would want her to be. Her husband was a strong man, but at times like these, he depended on her, and she was not about to disappoint him. So, while there were plenty of things she could have seen to around the manor herself, she waited in his sitting room with her needlework, keeping the fire high.

Finally she heard him in the hall. She rushed to open the door as he shuffled in, looking spent.

"Darcy dear! I expected you an hour ago!" she said, helping him shed his coat. Suddenly she felt his shoulders hitch under her hands as his breath scissored:

"Ktt-tsshhEEW!" The wet spraying sneeze was his response, only partially stifled by the sodden handkerchief he held. She blessed him worriedly as he again mopped his face.

"I'mb sorry, dearest," he finally managed. "I was stobbed many tibes between mby study and here to answer questions. I cabe as quick as I could."

He fell wearily into the chair nearest the fire with a deep groan and a deeper cough. He bent to try and remove his boots, but his efforts were hampered, as his nose streamed dreadfully if he bent over. He had to keep a hand pressed to his face as he tried to undo the fastenings with the other.

Elizabeth knelt in front of him and gently pushed his hands away, loosening and removing the boots herself as he leaned back in the chair, sniffling wetly.

"Thagk you, mby love," he croaked.

"Here, have some more tea, I've just had Mary bring some. There, now what suits you best? Shall we cover you warmly and sit here by the fire, or would you like me to fetch you some soup? I won't ask if you want to call for Dr. Bishop yet since I know what you'll say, though I have half a mind to."

"There's ndo need for the doctor," replied her husband. "Whad I most want right now is to lie dowd and sleeb sumb few hours yed. Mby mind is sluggish. I cad hardly grasp on a thought except how exhausted I amb."

"Then take my arm and let's get you to bed, poor man. I imagine some more sleep will do wonders for you."

"I don't need help walki'g mby dear, I'm not invalid, only full of cold." Even still, he took her proffered arm as he stood and rested a hand on her shoulder warmly as she led him to the bedroom.

"That may be, but I'll see you there myself just the same to make sure there's no distractions along the way." She kissed his hand and caressed it fondly as they made their way to the bed. She helped him remove all the clothes she had helped him don not long before and replace them with his nightshirt. While he clearly needed to sleep, he also seemed loath to let her out of his sight. He remained sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment with her pressed against his side. She scratched his back fondly.

“You should lie down, dear. You’re more asleep than awake.”

Instead, he wrapped his arms around her unexpectedly, burying his face in her abdomen with a weary sigh. Elizabeth was slightly startled, but gladly reciprocated the embrace, burying her face in his hair. Her husband was an affectionate man, but not usually physically so. This gesture from him, while not at all unwelcome, was unexpected.

“I feel terrible,” he groaned, barely audible, leaning most of his weight against her. “Mby body runs amok with mbe.”

“So it seems. I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t wish this cold of yours on anyone.”

She held him for a few peaceful moments. Just as she was about to again suggest he lie down, for it seemed he was in danger of falling asleep against her, his back twitched violently and he tried to pull away.

“heh-GIHH’CHOOOO! Hehht-kk’CHOOOOOF!”

Neither had time to react as poor Mr. Darcy sneezed thickly, his face still pressed against his startled wife. She couldn't suppress a little gasp as he pulled away, stammering apologies and wiping his traitorous nose.

She was silent a moment appraising the state of her dress, then an unladylike snort of laughter escaped her, sending her into a little fit of giggles even as she comforted her overwrought husband, pressing him gently back against the pillows.

“It’s all right, my love. Such things happen. ‘Tis only a dress, and I have plenty more. It seems neither of us are coming away from this cold of yours unscathed. But there now, you’re completely spent. You can hardly keep your eyes open, red as they are. Take some more rest, my love.”

“You’re too good to mbe,” he croaked, fighting against his heavy eyelids but already nearly asleep, the handkerchief still in his limp hand on the bed.

She reached out, caressing his face and brushing hair from his brow. “No more of that. Close your eyes and sleep, for how else do you expect to get better?” She clucked her tongue softly again. “You really are painfully warm, poor man. It is most worrisome,” she said, more to herself than him.

“I’ll be alright,” he mumbled, the last word turning into a snore as he finally gave in to the needs of his body.

~~~~~~~~~~

That was to be the last interaction Mr. Darcy would remember for quite some time. He fell into a deep sleep then, and everything that happened over the next few days would be blurred flashes in his mind at best, hazed by illness and fever.

Of course, the same could not be said for Elizabeth. After he fell asleep, she left him and tended to some of her duties around the manor (after changing her gown, naturally). She did not want to hover in the sickroom, both for her sake and his, so she forced herself to stay away for several hours, knowing he would ring if he needed something.

Still, in the late afternoon she returned, unable to stay away any longer. He was exactly as she had left him, snoring softly. He didn’t seem to have moved at all in his sleep, which was most unlike him. She again went to feel his forehead, sensing something amiss. He was much warmer than before. A knot of worry pulsing in her heart, she tried to shake him awake. He opened his eyes and seemed to look at her, but she could tell he wasn’t truly awake, and didn’t respond when she spoke to him, only grunted and coughed, trying to roll over and sleep again.

Without further ado, she sent for Doctor Bishop, pacing the halls outside Darcy’s rooms until he arrived, wringing her hands in worry and opening the door to check on her husband every few minutes, to ensure he got no worse.

The doctor arrived quickly, heading right into the sickroom. He did a thorough examination, listening to Mr. Darcy’s heart and lungs, checking his pulse and 100 other things. Darcy woke briefly a few times, but only managed answers of a word or less before he dozed off again. His large frame looked somehow both bigger and smaller than it should, curled up limply on the bed, with only his breathing as evidence of life. After he was through, the wise doctor scrutinized his patient, deep in thought. Elizabeth remained silent, waiting with baited breath. Finally the doctor turned to her.

“You said he’s been overworking himself and run down lately, yes?”

“Yes, doctor. Business has been troubling him of late.”

“Hm. So it seems. Well, overall his vital signs are normal for a man with a cold. I see nothing overly alarming, excepting the high fever. That is a touch worrisome, but can at times be seen in such cases. No, I don’t fear any illness has befallen him except what you’ve said, a bad cold. I think he’s simply exhausted, and this cold has caught up with him and brought everything down at once. I’ll wager the fever will subside in a day or two, and the rest in the days after that as long as he gets the rest he sorely needs. I shan’t prescribe him anything except what he already has here with you, Mrs. Darcy. Let him sleep as much as he wants, keep him hydrated and don’t cover him too warmly, and I think this will run its course soon enough.”

It was as if great weight fell off her shoulders as he spoke. “Oh, thank you doctor! Indeed, I shall do just as you say, and make sure he does as well.”

“Please do. The stubbornness of the Darcys is well known to me, for my father and his father have been treating this family for generations. I’ll come round to see him every day until I’m satisfied he’s on the mend, if that suits you.”

“Oh, yes please, and thank you kindly. You have my deepest gratitude, sir.”

“My pleasure, madame. Until tomorrow.” He tipped his hat and was gone.

With a huge sigh of relief, Elizabeth collapsed on the chair at her husband’s bedside. After a moment, she found his hand under the quilt and held it, needing to feel his touch, even if in unconsciousness. After a moment, he unexpectedly squeezed it. She looked up to see his eyes were fluttering closed, but his face was angled toward her now. She took a moment to appreciate that fine face, though currently his nose, cheeks, and eyes were matching shades of red against the sickly pallor over the rest of him.

She sighed and softly kissed his hand. “Get well soon, my dear.”

He certainly took his time doing so, or so it seemed to Eliza. Either she or Georgiana were at his side at all times. He slept constantly, barely waking even to drink water. He spoke hardly at all and asked for nothing. He would intermittently shake with chills, or else sweat profusely. He sneezed in thick, messy fits, several at a time, but then would go hours between, until the sensation again overpowered and woke him. He coughed more often, since that it seemed he could do even as he slept.

Yes, he slept, but he was overall restless. Noise in the room roused him. He stirred when he was touched. He stirred when he coughed. He woke when he sneezed. His sleep didn’t seem peaceful, which was perhaps why he never fully woke, because he wasn’t fully resting.

The first night, Elizabeth slept in her own rarely-used bedroom (she much preferred sharing his), wanting him (and herself) to rest as much as possible. The second night though, she was achingly lonely, missing his touch, his voice, and his smile. So, she crawled into her usual place beside him in his bed, pressing herself against him. She found herself cold, as she had been since he was ill from the worry, so his warmth was more than pleasant.

She herself relaxed immediately as soon as she was against him, but more surprisingly, so did he. He didn’t wake and hardly stirred when he felt her, but his breathing quickly deepened and he relaxed more fully as they rested against each other. Basking in the sensation of enjoying one another’s touch, they both slept the whole night that way.

~~~~~~~~~~

More than 48 hours after he first fell asleep, Darcy finally woke up completely. Naturally, it was a sneeze that did it.

“Heh’gihh’CHUUUHFF! AHHGK-CHOOOF! … ow….”

Something in the tone made Lizzie turn. She had been sitting facing the fire with her needlework, but glancing at the bed, she saw her husband sitting up, one hand to his temple, the other wiping his nose, and looking aware of his surroundings for the first time in 2 days. She dashed to his side, feeling his forehead at once.

“Bless you, dear. My, but it’s good to see you awake! Oh, and your fever is much decreased, how wonderful! How do you feel? Is your head hurting you? Here, drink some water, the doctor said you’re likely dehydrated…”

She wanted to prattle on, but she saw he was a bit overwhelmed, so she forced her tongue to be still. She gently grasped his hands, to calm him as well as herself, and kissed them fondly. She then handed him a glass of water, and he drank gratefully as she looked him over. He seemed a bit better, but he continued to look around in a dazed way.”

“Have I been asleeb long?” he finally rasped, his voice totally gone, and still stuffed tight with congestion.

“I would say so. It’s been two days darling.” She did her best to keep the worry and accusation out of her voice. He couldn’t help that he’d been ill.”

“Two days?! Good heavens.” He fell back against the pillows with a groan and a cough. “Ndo wonder I feel so sluggish.”

“Yes, but it seems you needed it. The doctor has been out every day, and he says you were suffering from exhaustion. Your body was taking the rest it sorely needed.”

“So it seebs.” He rubbed his eyes wearily.

“How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Sumb better, I thingk,” he said with a wet sniffle. “Less fevered. I am still weary, and will sleep another night soundly through, but I hope I’m on the mend now.”

“As do I.” She kissed his hand again, squeezing it tightly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Mr. Darcy was indeed on the mend. He was moving about his rooms freely the next day, and 2 days after that, he was allowed by the doctor (and his wife, grudgingly) to resume his duties, though at a reduced basis, for his cough still lingered, along with some fatigue. Yet he was incredibly cheerful to be leaving his rooms, and everywhere he went, he had a spring in his step.

That same day he was freed found Elizabeth curled on the settee in her rarely-used personal sitting room, wrapped in a coverlet and trying to read. However, her dripping nose and throbbing headache prevented her from making much progress in the story.

A barking cough burst out of her against her will, making her drop her book. With a feeble groan, she reached down to retrieve it, holding a handkerchief to her streaming nose. She had known she likely wouldn’t escape catching her husband’s cold, but that didn’t make it any less unpleasant. However, she was not about to spoil his first day of freedom with her own illness, so she was hiding here to avoid him as long as she could.

Just as she was thinking this, she heard his boots in the hall, and she suppressed another groan. He knocked softly, then peeked in the door, looking happy as well as confused when he saw her.

“Mary said I might find you here, but I thought she must be mistaken. Whatever are you doing? I was hoping to meet you for tea.”

She took a breath to answer, but instead the urge to sneeze snuck up on her. She shoved her elbow against her face, turning away from him to stifle the stubborn urge harshly:

“HXXT’GH! HNNKT! HXXTCH! Guh…” she mumbled at the end, which turned into a painful cough that she hardly had breath for.

Darcy was at her side in a moment, kneeling by her arm and feeling her forehead just as she had his so many times the past few days. Concern and regret crossed his face. “You have a fever, dearest. It seems I’ve shared my cold with you,” he said, stifling a little cough.

“You always were the gentleman, never failing to share with a lady,” she groused weakly.

His low chuckle was warm. “I’m truly sorry. Yet I heard you hardly left the bedchamber while I was ill, so I suppose it was inevitable.”

“Especially since you sneezed on me,” she mumbled, trying not to smile.

“Indeed,” he chuckled again. “I’m sorry for that as well. But now, enough talk. Rest your voice. Come up to bed and I’ll see you get some tea and toast.”

“Perhaps I don’t want to go to bed, did that occur to you? I’ve spent all week in that bedchamber and I’d prefer to not be forced to go back,” she muttered petulantly.

“I can tell you’re feeling unwell, for you’re never so irritable. That more than anything tells me I must see you to bed immediately.” His tone indicated some teasing, but mostly seriousness. Without further ado, he scooped her up in one motion and stood, carrying her toward their bedchamber, a little smile playing around his lips.

“Why you--! I’ve never been thus treated in my entire life. Put me down, you terrible man!” Yet she couldn’t keep from laughing, miserable though she was, which of course turned into a cough. She hadn’t felt so ill in a long time. In fact, the overwhelming urge to sneeze was coming over her again. She struggled weakly to free her arms from where he had them pinned, but it was too late:

“Hhh’rrrrushh’eeeew! Herrr’CHEW! Hihhh’knn’CHOOF!” She sneezed explosively against his chest, covering them both in the spray. His steps paused as he looked down at her, open-mouthed, while she stared back, reddening in embarrassment, but slightly triumphant.

“...bless you, my Lizzie,” Darcy finally said, an odd smile on his face.

“Thank you. I’m terribly sorry!... But what choice did I have, when I can’t move my arms? Now we’re even, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled again as he resumed walking. “And I suppose if you must sneeze on someone, it’s best if it’s me, as I can’t very well catch this cold again. But all the more reason for me to see you to bed. You look a mess. In the loveliest possible way, of course.”

“How charming you are, Mr. Darcy. You have quite a way of flattering a woman.”

He chuckled again, but by this time they had reached his bedchamber. He deposited her on the bed with the utmost gentleness, and proceeded to assist her in changing into more comfortable clothes. She shivered miserably as she changed so that her teeth nearly chattered. Darcy tucked her in warmly and quickly rang for some tea, then began to remove his own boots and coat. She watched him curiously, though with heavy eyes, for she suddenly she found herself exhausted. With pleasure she realized he planned to join her in bed.

He did just that a few moments later, pulling her close against himself and wrapping her in his big, warm arms. She nuzzled in gratefully with a sniffle and a cough. He buried his face in her hair as they settled, coughing as well.

“What are you doing, Darcy dear? I thought you had many things to do today,” she mumbled, already nearing sleep. “You’ve had so many days off yourself. You needn’t take another for me, though it seems we’re quite a mess still.”

“This has become the most important thing I must do today,” he yawned. “You were a saint to look after me this whole week, so now I must return the favor. I’m not likely to let an opportunity pass to spend time with you after these past weeks, for I’ve learned my lesson. And I too am already weary, for this cold hasn’t quite left me. A nap would suit me fine, especially if I can warm you in the process.”

When a servant arrived with tea, no one greeted him, and when he opened the door with the tray, he found it best to simply leave it nearby and duck out again, for Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were fast asleep.

#sickfic #Sickness #sicknario #snzfic #snzblr #snzario #everyone is hotter with a fever #especially fitz/william dar/cy

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

A Witchers Pack Chapter Four

You all finally reach kaer morhen, but what will Vesemir have to say about Geralts new pack?

Masterlist

Warnings:Swearing, Maybe a little angst, fluff!

A/n:Sooo I lied in my WIP I said this would be the final but it will be the next one, with everything I want to add to finish this fic off I wont fit it on one post in tumblr so yes this is the second to last chapter. I hope you enjoy xx

Taglist: @havenoffandoms @ayamenimthiriel @chynagirl13 @iloveyouyen

A Witchers Pack Chapter Four

Geralt sat by on his side of the bedroll he was content leaning back onto the sturdy leather bag he was resting on, for the first time in a while he was truly at peace reassured with the knowledge that tomorrow his pack would reach kaer morhen. They would be safe and cared for behind its walls. He smiled down at the small pup in his arms, Rebbeka looked up at him her face split into a wide grin at nearly four months old she recognized him and Jaskier, she was a sight to behold. Her features were becoming defined now ,she was beautiful. She held Jaskier’s coloring pale skin tho she held a tint of red across her cheeks, above that two serene blue eyes that seemed to be look right through you, surrounded by two thick lines of dark lashes and a thick patch of chestnut hair that held the hints of a curl. But her features was all you tiny pink lips that naturally rested in a pout ,high cheek bones slim soft jawline, her nose was upturned slightly giving her the look of a noble, or princess...Geralt preferred that to noble, she was still dainty she wont be tall or broad tho she did have the pudgyiest cheeks he had ever seen on a child he smiled poking one lightly making her frown a little and wriggled babbled at him effectively telling him off hummed in response.

"Oh thats what you think? is it? well now that you have had your say I think its about time you went to sleep now don't you pup...look even your mother and papa are sleeping. You are to young to be pulling all nighters...what would she say if she found out I'd let you stay up with me" he tilted the precious bundle tipping her up as he nodded to you watching as she followed his gaze and smiled babbling again before looking back at him blinking cluelessly. You'd actually put her down to bed a few hours ago then curled up for a quick nap...That ended up being you turning in for the night you laid on your side facing him your quiet snores filling the tent your head was just poking out of the small nest of blankets he made for you nightly, you curled on your side near his thigh a large pillow resting below your head another was placed below your tiny bump cushioning the precious cargo you carried, his chest warmed a little when he cast his gaze on you. He had done the impossible, him a sterile witcher by some confused alpha breeding frenzy loophole had sired not one but two pups. A litter. A small littler but a litter none the less. He closed his eyes dragging in a deep breath, picking up your scent, it was more intense and thicker with a slight change underneath.The beginnings of your pups scents the sort of undertones of them. They were going to have deep natural scents, maybe of freshly turned earth or pine needles.

He had nearly had a heart attack when he found out you were pupped again, it hadn't been like last time either this time you knew immediately before either him or Jaskier had a clue. You began feeling unwell when Rebbeka was ten weeks, not sick just low... drowsy and lethargic all you could manage to do was feed Rebbeka eat and sleep, for the first few days Jaskier was worried you had caught a virus when this continued for weeks Geralt had been worried but you kept brushing them both off after nearly two months Geralt was beginning to think the worst, that you had gotten a terrible sickness. He had tried to force you to see a healer or a mage, again you brushed him off. You had a feeling you knew what was going on, but wanted to wait until you was certain ,you knew how much it meant to the witcher. Finally though you had snapped Geralt had gone to far trying to take Rebbeka from you as you tried to feed her wanting to give her goats or cows milk in case you were ill and could infect her. Safe to say all hell broke loose, you all but bit him when he had suggested such a thing as he reached to take her from you hissing at him to 'try and take her from me!' as you held her closer as she fed readying yourself to claw at him a little feral...Omegas were touchy about providing for their pups and it seems your current hormones wasn't helping, it was then you had decided to tell them the news that you was certain you was pupped again...You had missed two cycles you wasn't sure how but you said you just knew. Geralt and Jaskier didn't believe you at first and took some convincing but by the time you was fourteen weeks he heard it two fast little hearts beating so fast it was more of a hum.He shook his head when he remembers when he first noticed it, it was in a tavern he'd received dirty looks when he had spit his drink all over Jaskier. The sound hit him like a brick wall he had stilled staring at you ignoring the Betas complaint of having ale sprayed up him. moving closer he slipped his hand under where Rebbeka was sleeping on your lap to rest his sweaty shaking palm on your tummy, eyes wide his lower jaw trembled Jaskier had stopped his bitching watching closely. You had just smiled at him

"told you so..." he sucked in a breath closing his eyes resting his head on your shoulder listening, honing in on the fantastic sound of the life he had put inside you.

"Oh my god he did it didn't he?....he pupped you...that's- this is unheard of! another pup so close to Rebbeka!" Jaskier's statement started with disbelieve then became a high pitched squeal of excitement when he finally registered what was coming. Another pup, for him to fuss over and sing to. Geralt pulled his head up you could see his eyes held unshed tears not that you would ever tell anyone.

"No Jaskier no not one....Two....theirs two of them....A litter I'm having-we're having a litter" you froze looking from one to you other. Jaskier paled and stayed stock still going into a mini breakdown.

"What? that's....Geralt are you certain?" he nodded to you smiling kissing your lips quickly once you pulled away Jaskier snapped out of it eyes panicked.

"TWO? YOU MEAN WE'RE GOING TO HAVE THREE TINY PUPS TO WATCH OVER AND RAISE AT ONCE?!" the tavern fell quiet everyone looking at the bard who had stood up one hand in his hair the other holding his ale as he basically screamed it

"Yes Jaskier she's having two pups..." Jaskier nodded a little and sipped a small mouthful of his ale and placed the mug down and shook his head with a small chuckle.

"...Nope sorry" he dropped back heavily fainting on the floor you gasped craning your neck clutching Rebbeka you your chest making her whine as you woke her Geralt grunted, ignoring the way the tavern roared with chorus of laughter and slurred congratulations. Geralt didn’t move to help the unconscious man he sat back down waving him off

"Geralt.....Is he going to be okay?" you asked still trying to peer around the table to see Jaskier he sighed

"he's breathing....so probably, give him a minute." you nodded uncertainly then rocked the pup in your arms cooing her back to sleep.

Geralt was pulled from his thoughts as the pup had managed to wriggle an arm free of her blanket waving it about in his face, he knew what she was trying to do, she liked poking him in the eye and pulling his hair. He chuckled hoisting her higher making her miss her target and quickly closing his lips around her fingers 'biting' at her she laughed as he did pretending to eat her then pulled back giving a kiss to her hand and made his way up her arm to her neck blowing a quick raspberry to it making her squeal and laugh. He pulled back with a kiss to her cheek.

"ssh ssh don't wake you mother... now come on its time for sleep little one, I'm not having you start that sleeping pattern again." he said referring to her week of being nocturnal it was hell for everyone, especially you who had to change with her to keep her fed. Laying her on the bedroll in front of him he made quick work of tucking her arm back in the blanket and laid down curling around her moving to pull out her rabbit toy that she slept with letting her pull it into the blankets with her resting a tiny cheek on the soft velvet he smiled running a finger across her forehead. This was his little trick to making her settle and true to form in a few moments she was fast asleep. Finally hearing that Rebbeka was asleep you peaked your eye open barely awake.

"So that’s how you do it?" you yawned and blinked sleepily at him and he smiled

"You were up?" you shook your head at him and shuffled closer curling around your sleeping child.

"No I heard her laugh....woke me" he nodded and placed a kiss on your forehead

"Go back to sleep we will be home tomorrow" you blinked slowly nodding still half asleep, you snuggled back down into your nest curling into him a little more then before circling Rebbeka blushing as you felt Geralt cover your shoulders with the heavy fur blanket.

The next afternoon you found yourself on the road again following Geralt on the well worn path leading higher into the blue mountains. You listened to Jaskier prattling on to Rebbeka as he carried her making the child squeal and laugh every now and then. You sighed rubbing your tender breast as much as you hoped she would need a feed soon you quite enjoyed having Jaskier take her for a while, she was getting bigger and with your little bump it was getting more and more difficult to hold her all the time now, well your bump and the fact you were always so damn tired. You slowed down as the path began a steep incline you panted as your body became heavier with each step but you made it all be it getting a concerned look from Geralt as you made it to the brow of the hill. You looked at the beta of the group then froze as your gaze followed Jaskier's. The trail you was on sloped down to the left then rose in the distance up to the gated entrance. Embedded into the rocky outcrop was the....Kaer morhen...The famed witcher strong hold, tho it still held the scars of its violent past in the stone ramparts it looked strong, stable and imposing. Safe. You blinked gasping as you looked upon the keep it was... There was no words for the moment you laid eyes on it, you felt a warm relief fill you as your eyes scanned the witcher school you swallowed, you couldn't tear your gaze away trying to seal in the details from all the stories, you'd read them as a child legends, you thought tall tales of scary witcher’s to scare children into behaving....That is what you thought until you met Geralt and even after meeting him you still didn't really believe this was a real place. Your home was so far that it was hard to truly believe that Witcher's were real let alone had a fortress in the mountains that had fallen to men.

"That’s...This is were we are staying? Geralt?" Jaskier spoke the question that had been trapped in your throat as you still stared mouth agape...A home..A real home with a hearth and a bed and...Safety true safety where you could all relax, no one on watch waiting for bandits or monsters you wrapped your arms around yourself nervously, that’s if you were aloud to stay. You were moved a few steps away from the edge of the path by Geralt’s insistent hovering arms as he spoke to the bard.

"Jaskier away form their....And yes this is my home...The only one I know we will stay for a few years" you snapped out of your thoughts as he said that you turned to him, moving to fast as you tried to blinked away the black spots waving your arms out as your eyes darkened. Geralt was quick to capture them and support you holding you until you was steady on your feet then held your hips moving you as he pleased.

"Years? Geralt we cant keep you here that long what about contracts?-" he hushed your anxious with a small smile then hoisted you up on to roach not moving from his spot before you, sending you a stern look as you tried you wriggle down. You huffed a sigh and took the reigns from him resigning yourself to riding the rest of the way.

"Yes years, until the children are older....Then we will venture out a little further. In the mean time I will take contracts no more then a few weeks away." you looked down to your small bump one hand going to it running across the taught skin absentmindedly twiddling the loose thread in the horses tack you took another look at the witcher school as Geralt watched you carefully noting a change in you as you avoided his eyes.

"What is it?" he spoke gruffly you shook your head sniffling moving to wipe a few stray tears then met his gaze with a forced smile

"Nothing ...Its silly don't mind me...Hormones and all that" he narrowed his eyes and placed a hand on top of yours his hand dwarfed yours and you felt the heat on your tummy.

"Omega...Whats wrong?" you sighed casting a longing look to the fortress.

“What...What if they don't believe us....Ger-Geralt Its never happened before....What if they make me leave? cast me out with Rebbeka?! I-I cant do that... Go it alone and then what happens when these are born?...What if they make you choose?" you poured out just some of your feelings to him, he tilted his head with a quirk in his lips.

"You are not going anywhere, Vesemir will understand please trust me on this omega...You wont be cast out or told to leave.." he moved to look at a weary Jaskier who moved from one foot to the other cradling Rebbeka he was also worried of being turned away. Geralt took a breath seeing the uncertainty was mutual between the other two members of his pack.

"Either of you, your family my family and now his...Theirs and we protect our own...All alpha witcher’s have a true mate...Yes it is rare for a witcher to find his mate, but that’s normally due to us outliving them or dying before their birth, not because there wasn't one...The fact that I found you...Both of you and made a pack is a blessing, something to be treasured and they will understand. They will not separate my pack, and if it makes you feel better if they try we leave. Together and find somewhere safe to stay of our own..." he looked back to you eyes soft seemingly amused by your fears.

"But it wont come to that...I can tell that you don't believe me...The only way to settle these fears is when we speak to him so lets not waste time." he moved quickly around roach and continued down the path.

The knot in your stomach got tighter and more sickening as the witcher school got closer you rocked Rebbeka in your arms fussing over her as she held a small wooden rattle Jaskier had brought her moving it enthusiastically back and forth making the light sound, you moved quickly shielding her head as she got close to hitting her forehead you giggled as she looked at the toy closely taking in the small carvings that they had both added to it, a small wolf and little bird. You smiled she was lifting her head a lot now concentrating on Things. Your thoughts were interrupted as you all stood at the small incline of the path to a lowered drawbridge. You gulped as a older man walked out below the gate to the bridge he moved slowly as if not believing what he was seeing, you clutched Rebbeka tighter to your self whimpering under your breath.

"Geralt..." Geralt looked up at you squeezing your calf stopping and turning to you, he noted the way your pulse had picked up and nervous quiver of your bottom lip. "It's okay that's Vesemir, he probably wondered why I wasn't back yet... I'm normally back by winter but we have missed it this year, he may have thought the worst...Please calm down trust me"

"I do....but I don't- I don't know them" he ran his hand up your leg and placed a hand gently on Rebbeka's head making the pup turn to him and smile reaching out for her father dropping her rattle in favor of grasping at his fingers trying to move them to her mouth he gave her a soft look and slowly untangled her from him moving to lay his hand across your bump closing his eyes listening to the humming of his own growing litter as he did so. He pulled back looking up at you capturing your gaze with his own.

"You think I would bring you here..My pack here? if they was any doubt in my mind? that I thought for a second you would be rejected.... This is my home....They are my brothers and Vesemir the only father I have known" you smiled down at him nodding to him.

"Let me down" he moved quickly helping you down from roach setting you down beside him looking over Rebbeka who was contentedly trying to look around he moved again and continued leading roach across the wooded bridge you and Jaskier quickly scrambled up behind the alpha walking alongside you casting you an unsure glance. You came to a stop before the older witcher. He was an alpha to you could tell by the deep scent and the way he held himself ,he commanded respect but not in a arrogant sense, it was more a case you wanted to listen to him he looked like a reasonable man. He looked kind he had a fatherly feel to him, his hair was pulled into a style much like Geralt's and his eyes were the typical amber hue, tho his hinted at a more bright yellow tone rather then your own alphas orange gold tone. the man moved forward clutching Geralt in a tight hug patting him on the back he pulled back smiling at your alpha

"Your alive? Geralt we began to think the worst!" Geralt smiled

"We the others are still here?"

"Yes spring is taking a while to set in and the migrations are going to be later so they have stayed longer this year, they will be glad to know your here....And not alone I see" Vesemir looked beyond Geralt to you and Jaskier, he froze as he cast his eyes on you.

"G-Geralt why?..Whats this?..An omega? you brought an omega here? what would make you bring an omega back to-" he stopped as he scented you properly...You was bonded to Geralt. Vesemir stared at you wide eyed shoulders slumping shocked he looked to Geralt then yourself and back again, you moved from one foot to the other holding Rebbeka tight to your chest almost trying to hide her in your cloak holding your breath wide eyed waiting to see what would happen

"Mate's....She?" Vesemir's voice wavered as the words were lost in his throat. You felt Jaskier move closer the need for his packmates reassurance to strong to overcome. Geralt took two steps towards you bringing his mentor towards you.

"Yes...My true mate...My omega y/n.....And this is Jaskier my brother....My beta and finally our pup Rebbeka, she is the reason we are so late getting back....She was eager and arrived early." Vesemir swallowed dryly looking from one to the other and finally moved forward peeking at the bundled child.

"G-Geralt I don't know what to say...You found your mate and...you made a pack...How? and the child? Is she of your blood or?" Vesemir looked between you and Jaskier then your pup.

"Jaskier is her blood...But they are both her fathers..Both raising her... Jaskier he is her Papa, Geralt is her father...But-" you said moving forward almost frantic trying to clear up some confusion Vesemir cast the bundle a small look...He would admit he wanted to see the child, but from the way you was clutching at her he would hold back his curiosity for now. You was frightened and skittish, so was the beta probably waiting to be thrown out. He opened his mouth to reassure you but stopped short as Rebbeka chose that time to fuss making Vesemir scan her quickly with a concerned look

"Is she Cold?" you moved her running your pointer finger over her top lip watching as she struggled to latch on her tell tale sign of hunger.

"She's hungry" Vesemir nodded to you and moved to the side making a sweeping motion for you all to enter.

"Then we should go inside in the warm come...I wont be having the pup freeze out here" You and Jaskier shared a look at the last comment, the old witcher sounded... Somewhat protective of her, slowly made your way under the gate sticking close to each other trying to ignore the glances the older witcher was stealing at you both. Soon you was lead to a large type of sitting room with a huge roaring fire and some comfy chairs in front of it with scattered pillows and plush blankets. You took a seat on the pillows by the fire Jaskier beside you digging through the small bag holding Rebbeka's things it held mostly toys and clothes there were a few essentials to but not many. he moved pulling a tiny thin teddy it was a rabbit her snuggles that she recently couldn't sleep without he placed it to the side knowing she would want it after her feed. Geralt and Vesemir watched on as you was quick to place her at your breast and feed her.

"So....Would someone explain how this all came about?.....And why your omega is pregnant again?" you looked to him then Geralt who was the first to start explaining.

"I met....Was followed by Jaskier and he sort of...clung to me, he found me when I was passing out of kaedwen last spring, going into Redania after a few months my lesser had attached to him and he has been pack ever since... we turned back making for Kaer morhen for winter and was making our way through Sodden and heard of a contract...Seemed easy enough a supposed witch cursing the village, I expected to find the usual an old widow and a early wave of influenza... The village had nothing of value...No strategic position no real witch would be caught dead there" Vezemir looked uncomfortable as Geralts gaze landed on the small omega , he could guess where this was going and he didn't like it

."As I came up to the town...I...We felt her scented her at first I thought it was a trap beginning the think there actually was a witch but no...I found Y/n she had been living in an old granary on the outside of town, my lesser latched onto her immediately I knew she was my mate it was....It reminded me of waking from the trial of the grasses, that instant change like I have been sleepwalking my entire life until then...She was, I don't have the words to describe it but I cannot ever let her go...I will not" Geralt took a deep breath scenting you again as you looked down at Rebbeka smiling feeling the golden orbs stare at you softly. Vesemir cleared his throat nodding taking everything in

"A granary?Out side of the village?"Geralt snarled making you and Jaskier shrink at the chilling sound... You went to speak but Geralt’s growling response beat you to it.

"Yes when she presented they cast her out...Treated her like a fucking animal...They didn't understand what she was, she wasn't even aloud to buy hunting gear to fend for herself just gave her rotting food and left her in isolation...You know the attitudes to omegas have changed.She was the contract." you snapped your head to him gasping you hadn't known that.

"W-what? they-they hired you to?" you trailed off eyes staring off into space the shock of it rendering you speechless

"They thought you'd caused the new alphas turning to be painful, they worried you might lure him out to you and endure his wrath. So they lied calling you a witch to bring in a witcher to deal with you...I only found out the day after your heat when I saw the lord... He told me everything, about when you presented... How they cast you out the things they had done, threatened you with..He wanted me to kill you and I refused...I don't think I have ever punched a human so hard in my life" you slowly brought your eyes up to him you had known something had happened but didn't ask, you didn't want to know at the time you just wanted to leave, to wrapped up in a prospect of a new life.

"You...You attacked him?" he shook his head grinning

"Not really....Tho I would be surprised if he could ever talk again... his jaw snapped and quite a few teeth went flying...He will live, just a little less comfortably now." you nodded a warmth spreading through you at the thought of your alpha sticking up for you... Protecting you. Vesemir cleared his throat turning to Geralt, choosing not to comment on his handling of the lord, he doubt he would have faired any better in that position, in a way he was proud of Geralt for not gutting the man."I suppose she fell into a heat as all omegas do in these instances" Geralt snapped his gaze from you to his Surrogate father

"Yes....She didn't understand any of it none of the village explained it to her..I...We bedded her and I lost myself to my lesser ordering Jaskier to...Well you can guess the rest....then we found out down the line Jaskier had succeeded...Rebbeka was early" Vesemir nodded taking a sip of his ale and waved a hand over you and your packmates.

"And you had him have her again?" you moved Rebbeka in your lap letting her latch on to your other breast

"No...Jaskier has not.... Not since that night....Something happened, Geralt did not mate me the night we met ,he didn't want to force a bond and...I didn't know what was happening...It was only after that I found out what I was before that..My home told me I was a siren or some form of succubus...A monster...A whore by nature..Geralt and Jaskier explained to me and I decided that I wanted to be claimed but it was to late once I was pupped he did not want to touch me. After the birth he was...Different over the first two weeks he was peacocking typical male behavior. Then he snapped and we...He had a....well erm" you looked to your alpha going red getting hot just thinking about exactly what had happened and Vesemir chuckled at you thinking that his student had just fucked you rabid,

"And he ravaged you" he said chuckling as your cheeks brightened

“Well that and he ..he had...” you looked to your mate slowly Vesemirs amused gaze fell as Geralt spoke.

"I had a rut Vesemir.... A true rut and I knotted her as I bonded...Mated her properly and she is carrying my pups." Vesemir froze snapping his eyes to Geralt shaking his head slowly looking at you as you finally pulled the pup away from your chest moving to burp her, wanting to ignore this part of the conversation.

"No...It can't...Thats impossible" Jaskier spoke up this time shrugging handing the pup her rabbit as you laid her across your lap she whimpered reaching for her father,Geralt sighed and plucked her from you cradling her gently leaning back in the chair hushing her.

"Thats what we thought to....But an unmated omega that had just had a pup has been known to send alphas into heat, and it may have been the fact she is his true mate that aloud him to...You know...Trust me I was there...He knotted her was stuck to her for nearly a whole night"

"No other has touched her...You know I would have scented him on her if they had....They are mine Vesemir" Vesemir sat quietly, taking in the information it was...None of them were lying he could hear it in the strong beats of their hearts, the was no waver of skipped beats just the constant thrumming of their life blood.

"So...You return with a pack, a pup and two on the way?....How far are you?" you flinched under his gaze

"A-About three months at the moment just over...Rebbeka was two weeks at the time and is now four months"you twiddled your fingers.

"So...we have anything from three to eight months to get this place ready for another two additions..." you gasped turning to face him as Jaskier opened his mouth.

"W-We can stay?...All of us?" Vesemir scoffed rolling his eyes at you both and leaned over Geralt's lap taking in the pup, then moved to hold her settling the sleepy child in his arms, it had been so long since he had seen one cooped up here most of the time.He smiled as she looked up at him he moved to run a knuckle over her face then closed her eyes not finding him interesting in the slightest making him scoff.

"..A headstrong little thing....And of course your staying...All of you...You thought I'd make you leave...don't be so absurd turn away the only grandchildren I will ever have?, I would never turn away family...If your Geralt’s family then your mine to." he fixed you both with a look as he rocked the tiny pup in his arms.Geralt scoffed smugly 'told you' visibly relaxing himself.

"And you will find the others will feel the same...Geralt there are cribs and supplies in the storage room by the old nursery, probably out dated and there might not be many clothes surviving but we can make due." you looked at the witcher's funny as Geralt nodded.

"Nursery? cribs? I thought this was a witcher school?..." Vesemir looked at you with a sad smile

"While many Witchers are children of surprise....Some were abandoned as tiny pups around the hills and woods in kaer morhen, the path here is hidden to most as you noticed so we used to sweep the near valleys but children were found regularly wandering, or swaddled hidden in the undergrowth. We had to accommodate them, just like we will do now...You will always have a place here this is your home now all of you" you smiled in relief holding Jaskier's hand tight. Home. You sniffed wiping your eyes willing the tears back. A family and a home was all you had ever dreamed of and now you had both. Geralt slid to the floor between you both and pulled you in resting both your heads on his shoulders sighing as you both held him tight.

"See...I told you...Both of you, now how about we go get something to eat then move a crib to our room." you pulled back laughing nodding eagerly as you all stood following Geralt and Vesemir to the great hall on one end was the largest fireplace you had ever seen in front of that was a long table separating the room in two halves piled with fresh food and wine there was two men.Witcher's. At the table who both turned to the door as Geralt opened it drawing the males attention

"Geralt! Not dead I see..See Lambert I told yooo-wait a minuet what is that? Vesemir? are you- is that a pup?!" Geralt growled at them whisper shouting.

"Shut up, she has only just got to sleep!" you and Jaskier watched as the new males sniffed the air.

"An...Omega?...She holds your scent...G-Geralt what have you done?" he sighed motioning for you and Jaskier to take a seat. you sat close to Vesemir wanting to be near your pup. sitting quietly as Vesemir and Geralt explained the situation as you and Jaskier picked at the food. The other males sat in silence for a few moments as Vesemir talked them down from their frantic skepticism, finally the message sunk in.

"So...She is your mate....And you had him pup her for you she had a kid and that made you jump off the deep end and knot her making two more....That may or may not have our mutations....Why does all this shit happen to you?" the first witcher Eskel said slapping Geralts. Geralt looked a little sheepish rubbing the back of his neck looking to you then two Jaskier feeling the bard's pout from here.

"And then we have Jaskier my beta and a brother...None of this would have happened had it not been for him...He is the one who ran head first into her, he lead me to her...The reason I found her,the reason we have Rebbeka and ultimately the reason I now have two more pups on the way...I can't thank him enough" everyone looked to the now red bard.

"I-it was nothing... I just sort of broke in to her house-shack thing." you smiled knowing although embarrassed Jaskier had needed the acknowledgment for his own piece of mind, to solidify just what he meant to the pack. You knew you and Geralt loved him dearly and would both be lost with out him...even if he did irritate the alpha to no end you would never part from him you owed him everything. "Y/n...C-can I hold the pup..." you looked up to the witcher you now knew as Lambert then to Vesemir who was struggling to eat and support the shifting pup you smiled nodding. Geralt leaned back watching as the younger Witcher approach the pup as if it was a sleeping dragon, slow quiet steps then tentatively moved to hold the child changing his arms position a few times before even making contact with her making his brothers chuckle. Finally Vesemir handed the child to him swiftly, leaving no choice for Lambert to even think about it. He sputtered nervously standing dead still then chuckled.

"HAH!.look at him standing there looking like he shit himself....Oh Geralt have a look! his knees are shaking!" Eskel said laughing at the poor man.Geralt smirked as Lambert thoroughly enjoying watching him squirm.

"You know you can move with her Lambert....she isn't attached to y/n go sit down...She wont bite, nothing to be scared of" Lambert blinked at the sleeping child and took a shaky breath.

"I...I can't move...No here take her I don't like it....Please I'm going to drop her or-or hold her wrong or something.....Please anyone take the pup" he said slowly twisting around terrified of moving with her, he leant over to place her in Geralt's hands who moved his arms up out of the way.

"No sorry, your going to have to take her to y/n around the table.." Eskel laughed as Lambert paled looking around at you who was trying so hard not to laugh and succeeding... barely.

"Come now Lambert it's just a wee pup nothing to be scared of" Eskel added making the witcher feel worse

"I doubt you'll be any better! My hands are sweaty Geralt?!" Geralt finally relented laughing taking Rebbeka from him only to thrust her into Eskel's lap making him go stiff as a board.

"Geralt- what no take her- I don't bloody want her!" you winced at the volume and within seconds Rebbeka was awake looking around panicked and whined scrunching her face ready to cry.

"Oh my- h-hey sweety oh hell....no no no-don't cry its okay It's fine...Just ignore me...shh come on don't cry be good for uncle Eskel...shh shh that’s it be a good girl no..no-noooo don't do it" he moved quickly rocking her trying to ward off the imminent wailing she wobbled her bottom lip eyes going glassy making the others laugh as Eskel panicked waving his fingers at her making her grab one letting out a whimper she brought the captured digit and brought it straight to her mouth making the witcher cringe as she pulled it suckling then closed her eyes trying to fall back to sleep, he pulled back flinching as she whined as soon as his finger began slipping free.

"Ew...Okay how do I detach her? y/n?" you giggled at his disgusted face as your pup snuggled back into his arms satisfied and falling back to sleep.

"You don't....That’s it your stuck until she lets go or wakes up...If you move she will throw a fit" he blinked looking down at the child sighing pulling a face as she sucked harshly on his finger again.

"You think that's a face all witchers pull?"Jaskier asked you tilting his head at the scene you looked

"You know I think it is..." Geralt furrowed his brow confused looking at Eskel

"I never did that" you and Jaskier nodded

"You did...When she did the same to you...And the first time you changed her....When it went up her back...Thats the face"

"Definetly the same face." Jaskier agreed the other witchers laughed imagining Geralts face when having to clean that up.

"And I can't wait to see that with the new pups....The great white wolf struggling to change a baby..."you blinked slowly at Lambert.

"You're staying here?" he smiled nodding then shrugged

"Well...I will leave in the next few weeks but I'm determined to be here for the birth's on my other nieces and when they are old enough they will have to have teachers, we don't know what powers they will be born with so..." Eskel nodded finally gaining control of his cringes.

"Yes the first and possibly only birth of witcher children,Hell I wouldn't be surprised if we had witchers from the other schools coming to see them... I for one will not be missing my nephews births so will be close until they are born then I will head out....we have even more of a reason to return to kaer morhen each winter now." you smiled placing a hand to your belly. You flicked your eyes down concerned. Mutations. they might have mutations you almost forgot about that, they might be born witcher's they were a first. the only ones of their kind. you sighed

"Don't worry, we will be equipped to teach them everything, Eskel here has a stronger affinity for magic I was a swords master but can also teach them the beastiary. so can Geralt and Lambert. But you must be prepared for them to have some witcher qualities, none of us know what they could be but we will be hear for them." you nodded to Vesemir you believed him you trusted him, and Geralt they would find a way you all would. Finally Geralt rose from the table.

"Jaskier lets go get the crib and set up the room, I’m sure we have a tin bath up there as well. Would you like to come look through the clothes...there might not be many" the beta nodded getting up you followed them to the door then stopped with a giggle.

"Eskel...you should come to if she wakes up and we're not here she might panic" Lambert bellowed a laugh as Eskel paled

"W-what you mean walk...and hold her...At the same time." you nodded staring unblinking. He heaved a deep sighed and rose moving slowly walking, well more creeping across the hall making Lambert holler louder

"Not as easy as it looks is it!?!" Geralt smirked crossing his arms over his chest as Eskel came closer shaking his head as you left the hall towards the old nursery.

#witcher fic #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt x y/n #witcher fanfiction #witcher imagine

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theravencawsatmidnight · 4 years

Text

Little Pet. Part Four. 💋

A/N. More learning about reader and Poison Ivy vibes.

Warnings: mentions of past traumas .

You rolled away from Shigaraki holding youre head , it was all coming back. Youre memories of youre quirk and the happyness it brought you. Shigaraki looked over while scratching his chest. He tapped youre head with his free hand making you curl up.

“Pet, come here. Dont turn away from me.”

Youre fingers dug into youre hair and youre feet curled up on eachother. Why why why. You did not want to remember any of this. You could hear Shigaraki talking to you but you did not move, he was getting louder and more impatient.

“Pet.”

Nothing.

Shigaraki clicked his teeth sitting up and grabbing youre shoulder rolling you over, he leaned over you looking very angry, his brows bunched up and his eyes half lidded. You were on the verge of tears, youre face was already flushed red and youre eyes were watering.

“Flo...flowers...”

“What?” He asked with annoyance . “If you think you can just ignore me then-“

“My quirk was flowers.. plant growth...i could make plants healthy and help them grow... i could also produce small thorns on my arms and they often did more bad than good...”

Shigaraki placed his elbow next to youre head resting his head on his hand. Shigaraki let out a long sigh watching you , red face and about to burst into tears. He caressed youre cheek while he spoke. “Oh Pet. So you like flowers huh? What happened?”

You leaned into his hand enjoying his warmth . It helped calm you down but.. not by much. You were starting to get a head ache too, all you could think about was the pain you felt when youre quirk left youre body.

“I was a flourist for a small flower shop. A lot of people knew of my quirk but what could... i really do with it? Its not.. exactly a Hero quirk..”

Shigaraki’s gaze lingered down to youre chest to youre arms moving up a sleeve to see little indents all over youre arm. Little thorn pricks it looked like. He sat down ontop of you and picked up youre arm examining it closey. You rubbed youre face with youre free hand breathing a bit heavy.

“So the thorns do nothing?” He asked pinching the indents.

“They just prick me heh.. “ you exhaled and Shigaraki looked up from youre arm and down at you. “But i did not mind. .. i could make dying flowers healthy again ..”

“And the sun Pet?”

“The sun... i guess you could say it re charged me. Like waking up from a deep sleep. Feeling completely rephreshed. So in the summer i could heal a lot of plants but in the winter.. i felt like i was constantly tired.”

He had let go of youre arm at some point while he listened to you. What a interesting quirk, not one to fight with but more of a comfort quirk.

“And Chisaki took it away? He just plucked you off the street Pet?”

“I was outside the shop healing some flowers we had on display and he was walking the sidewalk towards me. He.... stopped. He.. asked me about my quirk , said it was very unique . Flattered me.. i had no idea who he was Mr.Shigaraki ... i joined him for dinner at his home and thats when his men held me down. I.... he... he pointed a gun at my chest and said: “ what a useless quirk. Youre lucky youre pretty” “then he shot me. .. Mr.Shigaraki... it hurt... like.. someone was peeling off my skin .. i..”

Shigaraki slumped on you hunching over now , he rested his fists next to your shoulders and leaned down watching youre eyes start to water. “What happened next Pet?” He asked you sounding almost eager .

“I fell to my knees and started to cry, i yelled up at him asking him why .. why would he do this. He told me because he can. Because useless quirks should be erased off this planet.”

“And he kept you Pet?”

“Yes Mr.Shigaraki. I would have went to the police if he let me go and he knew that. So he just kept me prisoner, taunting me.. he even had his men bring me dead plants to show me. The room he kept me in was dark and away from the sun too.. you saw it.”

Shigaraki gently wipped tears from youre eyes with his thumb . He was angry , his heart rate picked up and all he could think about was dusting this man.

“I repressed what happened as hard as i could.. i did not want to remember . But when you asked me .. it all came back like a switch, Mr.. Shigaraki. You dont need to worry about me trying to escape here. I like it here very much. All i want is.. a window i can reach..”

You rubbed youre eyes sniffling and looking away. Shigaraki got up and off the bed looking around the room. Yeah, the window was to high to let any decent light in, and you could not reach it anyway. He scratched his neck looking back at you. You were sitting up criss cross holding youreself .

“Pet.”

Y-yes?”

“I will see about a different room for you. You still need to ask if you may go outside though. “

Youre face lit up and Shigaraki held his hand up

“But.”

“But..?” You asked tilting youre head.

“Im not getting you any plants or .. flowers. Grow em youreself . I’ll tell Twice to get seeds .. or something.”

“You.. YOU WILL?!?” You got up wrapping youre arms around him squeezing his skinny body. Shigaraki quickly shoved his fists in his pockets clicking his teeth in annoyance.

“Yes, because it makes you happy. And i want ... my Pet happy”

You nodded very fast into his shirt thanking him over and over untill he pulled you off him.

“Go to bed and calm down. Tomorrow tell Twice what you want.”

“Yes Mr.Shigaraki!!!”

He waved his hand walking over to the door closing it behind him. He leaned on it scratching at his neck hard for a minute.”Bastard.. ill kill em.” Shigaraki went upstairs to see everyone still awake.

“Twice, tomorrow Y/N is going to tell you what plant seeds she wants, pick em up.”

“Sure!!! Why though!?”

“Where she gonna plant em boss..” Dabi asked looking up from his drink .

“Im sure the back has a dirt pit under all that garbage , clean it up tomorrow”

“Ugn.. fine.” Dabi groaned

“Toga. How would you feel sharing a room with Twice.”

Toga and Twice looked at each other and instantly hugged . “Yes!!!” She squealed. “I mean YES. Sure why not.” Added Twice.

Kurogiri went over to Shigaraki seeing the agression in his eyes and the marks on his neck. “Tomura Shigaraki? Is something bothering you?”

He went over to the bar sitting down , he rested his head on his hand . “Listen up. This is what happened to Y/N, and this is what were going to do to that clean freak bastard..”

Everyone listened , and everyone was starting to understand Shigaraki’s anger. Dabi looked behind the bar picking up a trash bag heading outside into the dark and Twice and Toga ran off to move furniture. Spinner and Mr.Compress had returned to the hideout and Kurogiri filled them in so Shigaraki did not have to.

He would pay. In the worst way possible.

#MrShigaraki #boku no hero fanfic #my hero academia writing #shigaraki headcanons #mha #boku no hero #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #reader x shigaraki

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imyourliquor-youremypoison · 5 years

Text

Off Screen (Peter Parker x Reader) One-shot

Synopsis: Nobody’s above a good old Hollywood cliché.

Warnings: lotta fluff, whole lotta teasing, bit of sexy times

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: This was initially meant to be a part of my Peter series A Girl’s Best Friend but I couldn’t figure out a good way to incorporate it into the story, so here goes nothing. It’s a standalone one-shot for your enjoyment now, because I cannot erase an entire segment I wrote for the life of me, even if it has no place in my current WIP.

MASTERLIST

Peter and her had been on their way back from visiting May when it started raining. It wasn’t too bad at first, merely an evening drizzle on a Fall day – not surprising, to be expected even. The walk from the Queens apartment to Peter’s dorm room was a solid twenty-five minutes when they didn’t stop every time they saw a dog to look at it and maybe pet it.

About fifteen minutes after saying goodbye and bidding goodnight to May, (Y/N) felt the first drop hit her forehead, and she looked up.

“What is it? Raining again?” Peter asked when she stopped in her tracks to look upwards.

It had been raining on and off again all week, truly typical Fall weather – unpredictable and always taking people by surprise.

“I think I felt something,” she hummed, not feeling anything anymore. She shrugged. “Must have imagined it.”

She didn’t imagine it. A faint drizzle began to fall from the sky, barely visible, and impossible to feel. If it weren’t for Peter’s hair slowly staring to curl up, they wouldn’t have noticed at all. He kept running his hand through his hair to flat it out, but it was no use. (Y/N) tugged on his hand to make him stop, giggling.

“Why you don’t like your curls is beyond me,” she told him, wiping a damp curl out of his face. She had stopped walking under a streetlamp and gazed up at Peter with a large, happy smile.

He groaned.

“They make me look like I’m twelve!” he complained, leaning slightly into (Y/N) while they resumed walking.

The drizzle didn’t show any sign of stopping, if anything it slowly turned into proper raindrops they could actually see in the light of the streetlamps. They weren’t exactly in the most crowded area of the city; in fact, they purposely chose not to use the busy streets and to walk through the tranquil residential neighborhood. It made their walk five minutes longer but it was damn well worth the peace and quiet.

Still, (Y/N) wasn’t going to let a bit of humidity ruin her mood – they had had a great day so far, and every intention to finish it on a positive note. His comment prompted another chuckle out of her.

“And yet, for some reason I am attracted to you,” she teased him. “I wouldn’t say you look twelve, you just look… like a late-blooming twenty-something.”

“This is so much better, thank you (Y/N)!” Peter rolled his eyes and she bumped into his shoulder for his use of sarcasm.

The ambient humidity was beginning to form droplets in their hair. The curls on Peter’s head dripped a little now, and a trickle of water ran down (Y/N)’s nose. If only they had thought about taking an umbrella with them! This week’s shitty weather should have taught them a lesson, expect it didn’t.

“On the bright side, we’re the only ones here, so no need to kill any possible witness,” she continued to tease him. “I don’t count of course.”

“It could at least rain properly! This way my hair would just be flat – I’d rather look like a wet retriever than Miss Rogers’ ill-tempered poodle,” he told her, referring to May’s old downstairs neighbor, a sweet old lady with the most vicious poodle he ever met.

(Y/N) laughed, picturing the scene. She then pulled on his arm to make him pick up his pace.

“Charming imagine. Now hurry, I can feel the rain is picking up.”

Peter tugged gently on (Y/N)’s hand to pull her towards him and he opened his jacket so she could wrap an arm around his waist under the garment. She snuggled close to him, smiling in delight at the additional warmth coming from his body. He was always so warm, so welcoming a presence.

Even he couldn’t hold back the tender smile that etched onto his lips, unable to push down the swell of pride blooming in his chest when his girlfriend so gladly huddled against him. There was something truly territorial about the feeling; it appealed to his possessiveness to know that she came to him when she was cold, or needed shielding from the rain.

Expect Peter’s arm draped over (Y/N)’s shoulders, and his half open jacket couldn’t fight against what came next. From slight drizzle making Peter’s hair curl, it suddenly became a proper Fall downpour. They emerged from the residential streets and into the busier areas, though most streets quickly cleared off people – everybody ran to shelter.

“Well this wasn’t part of the plan,” Peter simply said, not particularly bothered but still wishing they could have left ten minutes earlier and avoided the rain altogether.

They arrived on campus a few minutes later, already feeling the water soaking through their clothes when Peter’s dorm came into view. They could see a swarm of people running towards the double doors at the front of the building, seeking shelter too.

Suddenly, (Y/N) nearly slipped on the wet ground when Peter stopped dead in his tracks while still holding her. She whipped her head around to see what the matter was and found nothing but Peter, a strange smirk upturning the corner of his mouth.

"Wait! It's raining," Peter pointed out the obvious, a lingering dreamy smile on his face.

"Yes, I know. That's why I'm hurrying inside," (Y/N) simply said, pointing towards the front doors. "What else am I supposed to do?” Most people had beat them to it already.

"We have to kiss," he blurted out as if it was the most logical thing in the world, as if she should have known. "Like in the movies," he added with a grin, watching (Y/N)'s puzzlement slowly turn into amusement and fondness.

The outer corners of her eyes were tinted black due to her mascara, and one could argue that streetlamps didn’t do much for one’s complexion, but Peter could swear she had never been more beautiful than right this instant.

"It's never like in the movies." She shook her head and tried to turn around and make for the door but Peter was planted in the ground like a rock and didn't move an inch, no matter how hard she pulled.

"Only one way to find out," he laughed, watching her resign herself and face him again.

"It's a downpour, Peter," she said.

She could try all she wanted to convince him that she wanted to go inside right now, Peter knew her well enough to read between the lines and see that she didn't actually mind being a little wet. A little, or a lot.

"Exactly. We're drenched to the bone already, might as well do this."

"Your logic is flawless," she laughed before leaning in until the tip of her nose brushed his. "I'm all yours, hot stuff. Give me my kiss under the rain."

A self-satisfied smile was painted on Peter’s face when he leaned down to meet (Y/N)’s eager lips for a Hollywood-worthy kiss. He couldn’t even remember the last time he saw this cliché scene happen in a movie, he simply took any chance to kiss his girlfriend, and that was a fact.

Their enthusiasm surely had to make up for the less then ideal weather conditions, although the weather was exactly why they stood outside Peter’s building in the pouring rain, late at night, kissing like it was the last time. (Y/N)’s hands had sneaked behind Peter’s neck to pressed his lips harder against hers, refusing to put an end to their kiss. Not that he had any intention to be the one to pull back first. He cradled (Y/N)’s face between his hand, wiping off the excess water running down her face, his fingers tangled in her hair.

It was not like in the movies indeed. It was cold and wet and slippery but they laughed it off and kept on kissing for a while longer, until the clap of thunder startled both of them into breaking their embrace.

"I admit standing in the rain looks more romantic on a screen than it feels right now," Peter reluctantly told (Y/N) while she giggled in the crook of his neck.

"Told you.” She turned her head to murmur in his ear. “But now we get to do the natural follow-up scene where we both stumble back to your room and take off our wet clothes to warm each other up..." She didn't conclude her sentence, leaving it up to their imagination. “They don’t show those on screen.”

Peter's face and neck flamed up. He didn't waste any time and took (Y/N)‘s hand to drag her towards his building.

"We'll get sick if we stay out there, let's go inside," he simply said. Emmeline smiled and bit down on her lower lip; she picked up her pace, eagerly following her boyfriend back to his dorm.

So many people stood in the hall that they had to elbow their way towards the elevators, but once they stumbled through the door to Peter’s single room, they reveled in being just the two of them. Coats were being shrugged off, shoes kicked off, hair pulled back and away from their faces as they hastily stripped each other of their clothes.

“Wait, wait, wait!” (Y/N) stopped Peter when he tried to take off her sweater, laughing as she untangled a strand of hair from around a decorative shoulder button.

“We good?” he asked after a second of two.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Peter chuckled and threw the garment in the laundry bin next to his bed – the rest of their clothes ended up in the same place, spilling over the top, leaving drops of water on the floor around it. That was a problem from tomorrow.

(Y/N) lunged forward to press her lips against Peter’s, pulling him into a steaming embrace that he wished he could be consumed in. Her fire set alight his very being, made his fingers tingle wherever he touched her skin. The cold was forgotten now that this a hearth was lit in their core.

The toughest part was getting out of their wet jeans – it led it a frankly comical wigging session that they both laughed off; what else was there to do anything? When (Y/N) freed herself from the sticky garment, she sighed in victory and plopped down onto the bed, using her elbows to prop herself up while Peter still struggled to get his pants off.

“Take your time, love,” she hummed, sending him a blazing look, a half-smile dancing on her lips.

Her glee was short lived and soon replaced by something a little less innocent. Peter discarded the annoying piece of clothing and joined (Y/N) on the bed, crawling over her, one hand gripping her thigh and keeping it pressed against his hips. The feverish pecks he left in his wake as he made his way down her body left (Y/N) breathless and shaking for more; the way he grinded his hips into hers slowly driving her insane, even though they hadn’t taken off their underwear yet.

“I changed my mind, don’t take your mind,” she whined when she tried to reciprocate his ministrations but was quickly and efficiently restrained. “Peter…” she warned him.

Peter’s left hand shot up and pinned her wrists above her head, keeping her from touching him. He knew she loved to touch him, let her hands roam while he stole away her breath with burning kisses, and he was entirely aware of the fact that it drove her over the edge when she couldn’t.

She wanted to object, but then his free hand traveled south and the second she felt a finger hook underneath the elastic of her underwear, the protest died in her throat. Seeing Peter’s boyish grin widen a little, she knew he was doing it all on purpose, playing her like a fiddle. A deeply consenting and eager fiddle that was ready and willing to beg to be played a little harder and faster.

Their underwear was gone in the blink of an eye – all Peter’s doing since (Y/N)’s freedom of movement was still very limited.

When he got off the bed, (Y/N)’s head shot up.

“What are you-“

Her question found an answer before she could finish when something sticky wrapped around her wrists, gluing her hands to the headboard.

“You didn’t…” she gasped, twisting her neck to look at the webs holding her down.

“I did,” Peter quipped happily, climbing over her once again after discarding the web shooter.

(Y/N) sported a disbelieving, shocked smile on her face, too turned on to really complain yet unquestionably itching to get her hands on Peter’s body. Her eyes devoured what she couldn’t touch, lingering on his toned chest and arms, already thinking about all the places she would run her fingers over and kiss once she was freed.

“I need to touch you,” she began to whined, unable to hide the neediness in her voice as she squirmed beneath him, hips rolling to try and get some much-needed contact. The warmth between her legs demanded attention.

Peter smirked and placed a kiss on the swell of her breast, not breaking eye contact as he slowly placed another kiss slightly below the first one. He made his way down her body so slowly (Y/N) could have screamed out in agony. She arched her back in an attempt to press him on non-verbally, to show him how much she needed him.

“You’re are too impatient,” Peter muttered against her stomach, placing a feather-like kiss above her navel and earned a pained moaned in response. “Relax,” he told her, placing a hand on her ribcage to calm down the ripples of her body. “I’ll take the webs off in just a moment.”

“What are they for the- Oh! Oh…” (Y/N)’s sentence got lost somewhere between her brain and her mouth when Peter finally decided to put an end to her torture and dived between her thighs.

She was rendered speechless and couldn’t articulate anything proper words, only managing to moan in pleasure and throw her head back into Peter’s pillow. It smelled like him too, the scent intoxicating her to the point of dizziness while he worked her up with his mouth and fingers.

Heavy pants left (Y/N)’s mouth, growing quicker the closer she got to her release. Peter doubled his efforts and picked up the pace; his arms were hooked around (Y/N)’s thighs to keep her pinned against the mattress despite the rolling of her hips – she couldn’t help it, her body moved of its own volition. Her pulled on the webs so hard it hurt a little but the extasy overpowered it all – she was going to- she-

“Peter… Peter…” (Y/N) repeated his name without thinking, like a prayer, as the orgasm washed over her.

Her entire body trembled slightly, muscles simultaneously tense and more relaxed than ever. She drops running down her neck weren’t due to the rain this time; it was sweat and pleasure that rendered her a mess. Peter released her legs and emerged from between her legs, looking smug as ever.

He had the graciousness of giving (Y/N) a minute to recover and regain her breath. His eyes never left her, he couldn’t detach his gaze from her shivering body, chest heaving, cheeks rosy and eyes glimmering with malice.

Peter smirked and crawled back up to place a kiss on her lips, then denied her the last second. (Y/N)’s jaw fell open at his audacity, her reaction making him laugh a bit. He reached up to take the webs off – at long last – and she didn’t waste a second to grab his face and pull it towards her, body undulating under his when she captured his lips for a greedy kiss.

(Y/N) ran a hand through his hair, sending a few droplets of rain of his shoulders, and she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss – they could get lost in this passionate embrace, forever remain entangled like they were; all naked bodies and bare feelings.

When they broke apart, lips swollen and slightly numb, eyes fluttering, (Y/N) grinned at Peter.

“My turn now.”

Peter’s side was a safe place providing both comfort and warmth, but eventually, (Y/N) had to get up. She had to use the bathroom and they had made quite the mess when they arrived in in room. Not that it mattered then, they were too busy to realize. Therefore, ignoring Peter’s weak groans of protest when she slipped out from under his arm, (Y/N) grabbed a clean pair of panties, and selected a t-shirt from Peter’s drawer to sleep in, then headed for the bathroom.

“Come back,” Peter whined, slipping over to try and find a comfortable position without her in the bed.

“You come out!” she replied, giggling.

She was right, he knew it. Was he going to admit it out loud? Probably not. Though it would be a show a tremendous ill-will to stay in bed when they so clearly couldn’t spend the night like this. The wet clothes needed to be put in the washing machine – May had gifted Peter with a small washing machine last Christmas, thinking – and rightly so – that the university’s laundry room wasn’t the best place to wash his Spider-Man suit.

And he needed to brush his teeth, too. God, this was too much effort. Still, he climbed out of bed, his dramatic groan answered by a light chuckle coming from the bathroom. (Y/N) had left the door ajar, light filtering through the opening and into the room. He switched on the lamp on his nightstand.

He heard the sound of running water. While (Y/N) took her shower, Peter gathered their discarded clothes and took the laundry basket under his arm, carrying it to his bathroom. He hadn’t even finished stuffing the clothes in the washing machine when (Y/N) came out of the shower along with a cloud of steam.

Despite the small space, they made do, and this was a dance they knew by heart. (Y/N) sat on the small stool in the corner and dabbed her hair to get the water out. She was quick to dry herself and slip on the underwear and t-shirt she had picked before her shower.

“Somebody’s tired,” she commented, hugging Peter from behind while he brushed his teeth, locking gaze in the mirror.

“’m tired,” he assured her. “Could go another two rounds.” Peter puffed out his chest, making (Y/N) laugh.

She let him go so he could rinse his mouth.

“So, what do you think about my cheesy ass now? Still think kissing in the rain is lame?” he asked with a smug grin, making her roll her eyes.

(Y/N) grabbed her toothbrush from the glass it was in and huffed.

"We are never doing that again. We'll both be sick in the morning. And who will take care of us if we're both bed-ridden?" she declared dramatically, bumping her hips into his to get access to the sink.

"Fine by me as long as we're in same bed," Peter snickered, earning a pinch to the arm. "Ouch! What was that for?"

"For your dumbassery," (Y/N) said, smiling at him though the mirror. Then she began to brush her teeth and he knew he could talk without being interrupted now.

"I was being romantic," he argued. "I don't care if you have the sniffles or sweat out a fever, I just want to be with you."

"Machbye I don't wancht you to schee me when I'm schick," she said without stopping her energetic tooth-brushing.

"Nonsense." Peter shook his head. "Ned can cover for us in class, and we'll watch bad movies and feed each other soup and medicine. We'll have such a great time, you'll see!"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes then leaned down to rinse her mouth before speaking again.

"I see now that we need to work on your definition of romance and on what makes for a great time," she sassed him, still speaking to him through the mirror.

"I'm joking, I'm joking," Peter swore, holding up his hands in surrender before wrapping them around (Y/N)’s shoulders and pecking her temple. "I haven't really gotten sick since high school, guess that's another Spider-perk." He chuckled at his own joke. "But I promise to take care of you if you have a cold. Sorry for making you stand in the pouring rain."

How was she supposed to resist the adorable pout on his dumb fucking face? Argh!

"The things I do for you," she sighed with a little more drama than necessary.

"C'mon, it was worth it," Peter tried to make her admit. "There's no harm in admitting you were wrong."

"The standing in the rain part was not anywhere near what Hollywood wants to sell us," she insisted.

"But...?" Peter encouraged her, smiling already. He knew he had won when he saw the way (Y/N)’s lips twitch in the mirror, as she fought to keep a poker face.

"But I guess the second part made up for it," she finally said, tearing her gaze away from the mirror to look at Peter directly.

For some reason, she felt embarrassed to say this out loud. She wasn't a shy person, she never batted an eyelash when faced with a crude joke, but talking about intimacy made her feel all kinds of feelings. There she stood, barely covered, cheeks rosy from her hot shower - or maybe she was blushing? Peter wondered, and he was so in love with her. A feeling that was entirely mutual.

(Y/N) extended her arms and wrapped them around Peter’s shoulders. She had to stand on her toes to brush her nose against his, making them both smile like the love-struck idiots they were. Peter even had to hide his face and the blush creeping up his neck, dropping his forehead onto her shoulder while her fingers gently massaged the back of his neck.

He couldn’t resist her touch and kissed her on her sweet spot.

"Rom-com movies don't have anything on us," Peter whispered against the skin of her shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.

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Taglist: @the-freefeather @golden-guide @of-virtuoso @justanothercynicalgenzkid

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wakandan-flowerz · 5 years

Text

What Would You Have Me Do Finale

A/N: This is my entry to the WIP Festival! Hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, smut, mentions of death, dark thoughts. Italics are flashbacks

M’Baku looked through your doorway. It was gloomy outside, bringing a dim light into your room. You laid pregnant and in a sweat. You winced as you turned over. You placed at hand on your protruding stomach, trying to find some comfort in your sleep. M’Baku shuddered he couldn’t watch you like this. Was this how it was before? You fighting the pain, trying to give birth to Shola. How could he have ignored you then? Why wasn’t he there? He knows the answer to that but, he had to question himself.

M’Baku thrusted, kissing her neck and licking along her lips. Ayomide moaned and kept her hips bowled for him. “Faster.” She harped.

M’Baku loved when she begged. He loved her voice, hitting his ears and vibrating through him. Sweet, harmonic. M’Baku moved his hips at a quicker pace, driving into her. Giving her every rigid inch, making her cry and arch into him. Her nails sharply gliding across his back. He welcomed the sting as he pounded into her.

M’Baku would have Ayomide almost everyday and walk back to the palace a new man. This was routine. He’d sneak away to her house and come back, going unchecked. He would take a different entrance to avoid the gazes of guards and servants. You being pregnant there was more focus on you. However, he didn’t have the energy. M’Baku wanted a reprieve from his life, from you and his children. He just didn’t have room to care for much right now and Ayomide was the greatest stress reliever he could ask for.

M’Baku made it to side entrance of the palace, a door installed into the cave side. He turned down the hallway and stopped short when the doctor almost bumped into him.

“Lord M’Baku.” The doctor said. “I’ve been looking for you. We needed you earlier for Lady Y/N and the baby.”

“What about it?” M’Baku sighed.

“The Chieftess…isn’t doing well. The pregnancy is taking a toll on her body and we fear something may be wrong with the child.” He said.

“Okay.” M’Baku said, trying to piece things together.

“Sir…we can’t insure that the mother or baby will be of full health at the end of this pregnancy. We’re not sure if the child will make it to full term.” The doctor said.

M’Baku sighed. “So…what can be done?”

“We’ve placed doulas and guards with her. She’ll have to be monitored at all times. We were hoping you may talk her into bedrest.” The doctor said.

“I’ll speak with her.” M’Baku groaned. He continued down the hall. He found his way to your shared bedroom and saw you, sitting up in the bed and breathing along with a doula. “Y/N.” he said, walking in.

“M’Baku!” you said with a faint smile. “We’ve missed you the past few hours.”

“Hmm.” He responded. M’Baku sat at the end of the bed, leaning over to you. “I spoke with your doctor.”

“You’re worried?” you asked.

M’Baku opened his mouth to speak and sighed. “Let’s just follow the doctor’s advice. For your health and the baby’s.”

You hummed and settling back into your pillows. “I haven’t seen much of you lately. Can you have dinner with me tonight?”

“No.” M’Baku said.

Your head tilted at his tone. There was a sourness, like you had said something wrong. “Do you have something to do for the council?”

M’Baku frowned at you, pressing on. “Rest, Y/N. I’ll see to you later.” He got up and turned to the doula attending to you. “Watch over her.” He started walking towards the door, swiftly as if there was something driving him to leave.

“I love you.” You said.

M’Baku didn’t respond, turning out of your sight passed the door. You placed your hands on your stomach, sighing. You weren’t sure what to say or do. Baffled, you turned to your breathing exercises.

M’Baku fluffed another pillow and put it squarely with the other as you returned from the bathroom. You walked sluggishly and weighed down. With your swollen belly and your illness, you just didn’t have the energy anymore. M’Baku came to your side and walked patiently with you to the bed. You still didn’t like him touching you. However, you couldn’t deny help at this point.

“Your lunch will be arriving soon.” M’Baku said as he pulled the blanket up your legs. “The doctor wants to give you some type of tea. It might give you some of your strength back.”

You nodded as you rest back against the pillows. “The children?”

“They miss you. Mayowa is doing his best. Hopefully, we can have a family day. Whether it’s in here or maybe we take you outside for fresh air.” He said.

You looked around the room and thought about how just last month all of the kids were in the room, playing, drawing you pictures and showing what they learned in school. It seemed like so long ago. Happiness in general seemed so long ago.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” M’Baku said. “Anything at all, my love?”

You looked at him and wanted to growl. “Don’t call me that.” You said.

“Y/N, please.” M’Baku said beginning to reach for your hand.

“No.” you said snatching away. “You can’t try to be sweet with me after all this time! You don’t get to do that.” You started to cough as you got riled up.

M’Baku tried to hush you as you leaned up coughing. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You leaned back into the pillows and took a deep breath. “I’m going to send someone else in here to sit with you for lunch. Give you a break.”

M’Baku tried not to hang his head as he left the room, admitting another defeat. He found himself in his office, trying to distract himself with work until there was a knock on his door.

“Come in.” he said.

M’Baku’s advisor, Masego, walked in. A solemn look plastered his face. M’Baku sat back in his seat as clearly there was going to be more bad news.

“I spoke to the Chieftess’ physician. Her condition has proceeded to worsen.” He said.

“They are trying whatever they can. My wife is strong. She will be fine as will my child.” M’Baku said.

“I know, sir. But there is something we must think about. I know we didn’t do it on the Lady’s last pregnancy, we should think of the worst case.” Masego said.

“It won’t come to that.” M’Baku said sternly.

“The Chieftess has been bedridden since she almost lost the child. Are we even sure if the child still lives?” he asked.

“My child still lives and will live among us soon. My wife will rise from her bed like before and keep her health.” M’Baku said in a low growl. “You will do your best to watch your mouth and speak positively over my wife and my children.”

Masego bowed, but just as quickly raised his head. “I just aim to speak truth to you, sir. No matter how harsh that may be.”

M’Baku watched the advisor leave and shut the door. He sighed as he rested his head in his hands.

Having dinner with the children was awkward. M’Baku didn’t like staring down at the other end of the table and not seeing his wife there. He said a silent prayer to Hanuman that you would make a full and speedy recovery. That’s all his prayers were now. Only for you and the child’s wellbeing. Every utterance to Hanuman was to make up for the lack of prayers from years ago. He wanted to the husband you needed.

You laid in bed, a sweat building on your forehead. A rag washed over your face, wiping it clean. You groggily looked over and saw M’Baku at your bed side. From what you could tell, it was late. He looked tired, but here he was, up with you. “Where are the kids?” you said.

“Asleep.” M’Baku said. “They wanted you at dinner.”

You looked at him and turned away, opting to glare at the ceiling again. You shut your eyes and gritted your teeth. One of the worse things about being bedridden was not being able to enjoy your family. Being stuck like you were years ago made you yearn for them more. Even Phelisa. “I miss them.” You whispered.

“I’ll bring them tomorrow. We can all come and be a family. We need it.” M’Baku said.

“I want my children.” You said. “Not you.”

“Y/N, please.” He said.

“Stop begging me for something I no longer have for you.” You said. “You sit here at my bedside and beg my forgiveness and adoration when I have none.”

“Y/N, please. I want us to reconcile and be together again.” M’Baku said. “Hold my hand to the fire, but forgive me and take me back.”

You would have rather watched him burn. In your state, no amount of accountability would make you his wife again. You were too detached. Your body was draining itself to nourish a child and there was no room for seeking to have relationship with this man. “No.” you said. “Get out.”

“Y/N, I am to care for you for the night.” He said. “I’m not leaving you. I’m going to right my wrongs. I will care for you and your child. I will be the husband I should’ve been.”

You scoffed. Your anger bringing more heat to your face. You shuddered as she tried to sit up. Your body ached and a cramp came over you. You winced and clutched your swollen belly. “Please, lay back.”

“No.” you said. You swat his hands away as he tried to reach for you. “Get away.”

“You are in no condition to getting up, Y/N.” M’Baku said. You swatted at me as you tried pulling your legs over. M’Baku stood like a brick wall in front of you, trying block you from standing. You tried kicking him as M’Baku did his best to restrain you without hurting you. “Y/N, stop this!”

You let out a frustrated grunt as you forced yourself to stand. You felt this rush like a massive tide taking you. You stumbled back on the bed, clutching your stomach. You cried at the tinge of pain in your abdomen. M’Baku saw the look of pain and horror on your face. Something made him rush and go to the door. He yelled for the guards on standby to find a doctor and some help. He looked back to you as you continued to whimper on the edge of the bed.

“Hold on, Y/N.” he said as he crossed the room. M’Baku fitted his hands beneath you and pushed you further into the bed. When he pulled his hand away, there was blood. He looked to find your gown with a growing stain of crimson.

“Sir, you need to help us make a decision.” The physician said.

The grave tone of the doctor called for M’Baku’s attention. He looked up from his work and daydream of having his mistress wrapped around him. “About?”

“The Chieftess’ condition worsens. We suspect that labor will earlier than expected. We must know, sir. If the situation becomes dire, do we save her and the offspring?” he said.

M’Baku took a deep breath. “The child. Save my child.”

The doctor almost looked taken aback by the decision. The Jabari watched how loving and doting M’Baku had been in the past over his wife and her pregnancies. She would be the center of attention. Somedays, no business could be done until the Chieftess was attended to. Now, it seemed as if the Lord of the Jabari could care less.

“Very well.” The doctor said.

Later, M’Baku laid in the bed that belonged to his new fancy. He stared up at the ceiling and thought how good everything felt. How in this moment pleasure had taken over his body and mind. How there was need to care about a wife and children. A reprieve he wanted to last longer than him being aroused. To fill this bliss forever. Could he walk away from his wife and children for this? Trade in the life he had known for something fresher. Something more exciting. No more mundane. He would love it.

“Stay with me.” Ayomide said.

“I wish I could, my dear.” M’Baku said as he rose from the bed. “But, I must return.”

“Come back tonight. For dinner.” She said.

“Dessert as well?” he asked, leaning over to her.

Ayomide moaned and gave him a passionate kiss before answering. “Of course.” She said.

M’Baku promised her he would come back. He made his way back to the palace. As always taking a secret entrance and creeping back into the halls as if he never left. Everything was as usual. Until a guard rushed to him out of breath.

“Sir, we’ve been looking everywhere for you.” The guard said.

“What for? What has happened?” M’Baku asked.

The guard stood up straight. He took a deep breath and his face fell. “Lady Y/N went into labor.”

M’Baku sat on his knees in the shrine to Hanuman. The great wood statue stood towering over him. A chill ran over M’Baku. He sniffed as he wiped another tear from his eyes. “I come before you more humble than ever before. I know I have done wrong by my wife, my children and my people. I have fallen and while before I sought redemption, I now ask for you to save my wife. Save my wife and my child. I will hold myself accountable. My sins are mine and mine alone. Don’t let my penance be paid by loss. I will trade my life for theirs. Just don’t take them for me. Whether she lives the rest of her life with me or without me…just give her peace. Give her all. Bless my beloved wife. Bless my beautiful children. Smite me instead. Please, my life for hers.”

M’Baku gazed down upon Shola, small and precious in her blanket. He leaned in, kissing her forehead. His firstborn daughter, his little girl. He smiled. Another blessing. He looked over at you. Fresh sheets draped over you though you sweated through them. “How is she?”

“Lady Y/N is ill, very ill. It seems the complications from the pregnancy will continue. We have not seen patients like this before, but we are committed to doing our best. With praryer, medicine and rest, we hope she will make a full recovery.” The doctor said.

“And my daughter?” M’Baku said, using his finger to move the blanket from her face.

“Since she is early, we will monitor her. She appears to be healthy despite not being carried to term. But, things can take a turn.” The doctor said.

M’Baku watched you wince in your sleep. He pressed his lips together, a silent prayer to Hanuman for the both of you. He nodded and crossed over to your bedside. With sweat on your brow and your skin losing it’s vibrance, he was slightly frightened. You were rarely sick. To see you so weak did something to him and he didn’t like it. “Do your best.” M’Baku said.

The doctor bowed as M’Baku left the room. A chill remaining in the room as he retreated. M’Baku wiped tears from his eyes as he stalked down the hallway. He tried shaking the terrible thoughts from his mind. Though he found himself in Ayomide’s bed, he still had thoughts of you in his mind. In one hand, he prayed for you. In another, he was caught up burying himself in someone that wasn’t you.

“The infection is spreading. And she has been experiencing postpartum.” The doctor said.

“What?” M’Baku said.

“She isn’t healing. And she refuses to feed the child. She rambles as if she is close to death. Her mental and physical health are continuing to deteriorate. We aren’t sure what to do.” He said.

M’Baku had to see for himself. You were slumped in bed, a grayness to your skin, lips chapped. You looked weak, like you were already a corpse. “Y/N.” he called.

“I know now without a doubt…you have ended me.” You said.

“What?” M’Baku said.

“I lay here withering away because of you. You were my life and how fitting it would be for you to be my death.” You said.

“Y/N, my love.” He said.

“Love? What is love, but poison disguised as something sweet. A treat turned rotten. A cancer taking over a body in silence and in it’s last stages ripping through you so violently.” You said. The hysteria had set in. You weren’t here anymore. You had a blank look in your eye, your mind in a haze. “You’ve killed me. I gave you everything and you killed me.”

M’Baku listened to you, ramble. He was frightened. Was this a curse? Did Hanuman seek to take you from him in such fashion? To be tormented then fade away into insanity? M’Baku kneeled at her bed and reached to take her hand. “Please, Hanuman. Restore the health of my wife.”

“Now, you pray for me. Oh, joy. Maybe, I’m not so damned.” You said.

M’Baku rose and got into the bed, cupping your face. “Stop this.” M’Baku said. “You can’t talk like this. You are going to be fine.”

“Only when I’m rid of you.” You said.

M’Baku couldn’t bare it. He left in a huff. His chest began tight as he sob in his office. What did he have to give to have you again? What could he do?

You sat outside with your children, watching them play. Songezo laid in front of Phelisa encouraging her to crawl to him. Shola scrambled on paper as Uuka braided her hair. Mayowa sat next to you on the ground. “Mama, I’m glad you are feeling better.”

“As am I…” you said.

“Can I ask you something?” he said. You looked down at him, putting a hand on his head, caressing it. “Will you leave him now?”

“What?” you said.

“Mama, I heard you.” Mayowa said. “One night, you were arguing with him. You told him once you gave birth you would leave. Are you still going to? Will you take us with you?”

You sighed, looking at the other bunch of your children playing. “I’m not in the best state to make a decision like that. And your brother still needs much care before I can take him anywhere.”

“But when you are ready? Will you leave him…for all he has done?” Mayowa asked, looking up at you.

“Don’t worry about me and your father. You are 13. You have other things to think about. The only thing I need from you is to care for your siblings.” You said.

“But you know I can help, Mama. I’m old enough. If you need help moving or…” he said.

“Mayowa, my burden is not yours. Though you are more than capable and mature, I need you to remain a child in this situation. Stay out of it, my love.” You said.

Things became easier. You weren’t bedridden anymore. You just had to be escorted around with guards, nurses or Mayowa would tend to you. You held your newborn, Ajayi. He was growing and healthy. You thanked Hanuman for you to be so lucky. No doubt, this would be your last child. There was no need for your body to go through this strain again. Ajayi squirmed in your arms as he drifted off to sleep. You gently laid him in the crib in the center of your room. You smiled as he gave a soft moan.

You were about to walk away when you heard a light tap on your door. You looked to see M’Baku in the archway, looking timid and humble. “May I come in?” You nodded and waved him in. “How are you feeling today?”

“Fatigued.” You said. “But, I’m fine.”

“Thank you.” He said.

You looked up at him confused. “Thank me? For what?” You asked.

M’Baku stepped further into the room, almost dragging his feet. “Everything. I want you to know how much I really do appreciate you for everything you’ve given me.” M’Baku said. “I know now there is nothing I can do to make you love me. And I accept that. I have prayed to Hanuman for you and our children. To forsake me as long as He showed you favor.”

You saw the sincerity and sadness in his eyes. A softness that seemed to be all he wore now. His eyes were puffy as if he had been crying. His mouth drooped, causing wrinkles. He sighed as clasped his hands together.

“If you want this marriage dissolved, I am prepared to facilitate that. I see no point in forcing you to be with me in this union. It is clear I have nothing that you want nor do you have anything left to give me.” M’Baku said. “I can live with my guilt and shame. As long as you can find some happiness, be it with or without me, I will be content.”

You glared at M’Baku. Once a proud man who stood tall and was a beckon for you, now stood before you broken and defeated. You almost felt sorry for him. But alas, you were given your way out. What were you going to do with it?

“When I’m ready, we’ll talk.” You said.

M’Baku nodded then looked to the crib. “May I?” he asked.

You waved him forward. M’Baku walked over the crib and looked down at his son with a smile. “He looks like you.” M’Baku said. “Beautiful.”

You chuckled as M’Baku ran a finger along his cheek. “You can see him whenever you like.” You said. “Even after I leave. I’m not going to rob you of being a father.”

“How can you be so gracious? Even after all I have done to you.” He said.

“Well, what would you have me do?” you said. “I loved you. A part of me still might love you. I won’t deny you gave me the best years of my life. You’ve taught me a few things and made something I didn’t expect to be. For the best and worse. But despite everything, I do believe I can find it in my heart to forgive you. Maybe not now. Maybe not in a year. But I could. But, I also can’t do it still married to you. Not like this.”

M’Baku turned to you, nodding. A few tears rolled down his eyes. “If I could go back and change things I would.”

“But you can’t. We can’t do anything about it now.” You said. M’Baku sighed, fighting a sob. You wiped his tears and caress his cheek. He clutched your hand, keeping it to his face. The last time you put a hand to his face was for a slap. M’Baku missed your touch. He was savoring this, knowing he would never get it again. You neared him, closing the space between you. M’Baku looked at you, vulnerable. You searched his eyes. Before you would look at him and have a hate flow through you. Now, that hate was quiet. You only felt sorrow and pity.

M’Baku craned his head down into you. Your answer was to lean your head back, welcoming a kiss. The kiss was soft and gentle. Something neither of you felt in a long time. You knew what you were doing and you didn’t mind it. A last taste of each other.

M’Baku pulled away from you. He removed his hand from your wrists, trying to regain his composure. You watched him back away from you. “I’m sure the children told you they are excited to see you at dinner tonight. I hope you enjoy your time with them.”

Ajayi turned 1 before you and M’Baku finalized the divorce. It wasn’t messy or loud. Just a quiet departure. You kept your promise and let him have as much time with the children as you could. You co-parented in harmony. You still had an admiration for each other but, you were very clear that you could never love him again. He accepted that, gracefully. Your children understood in time. Phelisa only saw you as her mother and as you understood, she was your daughter. You remained close. As you forgave M’Baku, you thought Mayowa to do the same though it took him the longer than it did you. It became important to you to keep your family together. Something M’Baku was grateful for.

In the end, it was a shock to most when you opted to be buried next to M’Baku. You cared for him in life and up to his death. You saw him through everything, might as well keep doing it. After all between the both of you, there was still a dormant love.

#mbaku x reader #mbaku fanfiction #mbaku imagine #mbaku angst #mbaku x you #mbaku x black reader

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qqueenofhades · 5 years

Text

the shadows among the stars: chapter ten

Summary: Sequel to the alchemical wedding. Garcia Flynn and Lucy Preston have timewalked to 1590 London, in search of answers about the mysterious manuscript Ashmole 782. But as they tangle with alchemists, assassins, witches, vampires, daemons, queens, and emperors – and the de Clermont family themselves – they quickly realize that their quest will be far more difficult than they ever imagined, and their relationship will be challenged as never before. In the present, their formidable enemy Michael Temple is more powerful than ever, the rival creature factions on the Congregation scheme and intrigue against each other, and in both centuries, the danger and the shadows are only deepening. Rating: M Status: WIP Previous: Something Wicked

Chapter 10: A Series of Unfortunate Events

Flynn and Lucy spend the evening with a quandary equally as pressing as to whether one should ever actually ask Guy Fawkes for help with anything, which is still their main concern. Their audience with Dr. Dee is bright and early tomorrow morning, but given what Lucy has just explained, they aren’t sure if they should go without quite a bit of extra preparation. Since it was so difficult to arrange the damn thing in the first place, they don’t know if they should cancel it, just in case they never get it again. They don’t have time to do any advance reconnaissance now, and there’s something to be said for just wading in there anyway and seeing what turns up. But both of them feel as if they wouldn’t know the right questions to ask, wouldn’t know if they were being baldly cheated and/or deceived, and even if a last-minute cancellation might be suspicious, it could also beat a few roaches out of the rushes and force them to make some kind of move, which would be easier to track than blind stabs in the dark. All in all, after a worried few hours of discussion, it’s settled. Lucy will feign a sudden illness to explain their discourtesy in being unavailable to attend Dr. Dee at the promised time, and Flynn will hopefully reschedule their visit for next week. In the meantime, same as ever, improvise like hell.

With that, they put on a miniature performance for the household, as Lucy announces loudly that she feels quite tired and out of sorts after the excursion to Essex and the frightening ordeal therein, and retires dramatically to bed. Flynn makes an equal show of playing the solicitous husband, since neither of them have ruled out the possibility that there’s another spy among the staff. (Karl comes to mind, for one, though Lucy hopes that saving his life would have produced a modicum of gratitude.) They need to sell the charade for the benefit of anyone who might be snooping, and Lucy can’t complain if it gives her an actual weekend to spend in bed. She will not have to do much pretending in order to sleep for most of it, but she can’t shake the feeling that she is being disastrously unproductive and continuing to squander their limited time. Are they sure they don’t want her to –

“Don’t worry about it,” Flynn says, sitting down on the bed next to her as Lucy is curled up drowsily among the pillows. “I’ll go back to Raleigh’s and ask a few more questions. Nothing obvious, of course. And if Gabriel would just cooperate and shake Kit down for a straight answer or two, that would help, but I clearly am asking for the moon there.”

Lucy is briefly tempted to make the usual queer-person crack about how neither Gabriel or Kit could give anyone a straight answer to anything if their life depended on it, but she really is exhausted, and manages a sort of strangled-duck snort instead. She still feels compelled to apologize for sticking him with all the extra work. “We could still go to Dee’s tomorrow. Or – I know we have to have an excuse for why we’re not if we don’t, but it feels unfair if I just get to lounge in bed and you have to be out working on this by yourself, I should – ”

“No,” Flynn says firmly, catching her hand and kissing it. “I’m a very old immortal, I can go much longer without proper sleep or rest, and I’m worried about you. You’ve been running on the edge of a breakdown for days, and you have been doing the most that anyone possibly could. You deserve this chance to catch up on some sleep and not worry about what the hell the rest of us are doing. I’ll get what I can out of Raleigh, but – ”

“Of course I’m going to worry about what the hell you’re doing.” Lucy looks down at their hands, interlinked atop the covers. “It comes of being in love with you.”

[read the rest on AO3]

#timeless #timeless ff #garcy #garcy ff #lucy x flynn #the shadows among the stars #all souls au

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squirenonny · 6 years

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All squares have been claimed!

Sooooo.... Been a while. Sorry ‘bout that. Life, you know?

Fun story about this one. I've worked 10 of the last 11 days and missed my lunch break on two of those days (yayyyy Thanksgiving week at a grocery store~) Anyway, I was dead tired all this week and couldn't focus on any of my WIPs, so I scrolled through my list of @badthingshappenbingo prompts and this one sparked my interest.

Got 500 words into it before realizing why "Worked Themself to Exhaustion" might be striking a chord. |D

Anyway, enjoy! You can also find this on AO3 here!

Spoilers through Chapter 31 of Shadows of Stars. Chapter 34 provides some useful additional context for this chapter, but you won't find any actual spoilers for that chapter here. Set sometime nebulously in the future, relative to the most recent update.

Worked Themself to Exhaustion

Original prompt (from anon): Allura/Meri 'Worked Themselves to Exhaustion' for the Bad Things Happen Bingo?

Allura found Meri on the bridge several hours past midnight, standing at one of the computer terminals near Coran's station, backlit by a frosty blue glow. "Are you still up?"

Meri jumped at the sound of her voice, then tried to cover with a laugh. "Allura! You scared me." Allura crossed the bridge to where she stood, pulling her dressing gown closer as she walked. She hooked her chin over Meri's shoulder and peered at the screen. "Working on something important?" Meri shrugged with the shoulder that wasn't currently supporting Alllura's chin. "Nothing terribly interesting," she said. "Just going through reports from the Accords and stuff." "Couldn't that wait till tomorrow?" Meri shrugged again, tension creeping into her spine. Allura tipped her head to the side, studying Meri's face in profile. She looked tired. She had since she'd returned from her stint as a spy, but it showed now more than ever. The screen's light only deepened the inky shadows beneath her eye and accentuated the lines pulling at the corners of her eyes, and her hair hung limp around her face, the way it did when she'd gone too long without a shower. Except in the immediate aftermath of a battle or other emergency, Allura couldn't remember ever seeing Meri so not put together. Spying had changed her. Allura didn't know the details of it; Meri had remained tight-lipped on anything that wasn't actionable information. The projects Haggar was working on, the abilities of the druids, whatever she'd managed to dig up in digital records or in conversation with other druid candidates--all of this Meri shared freely and with little inflection. It gave away more than she probably wanted to admit to, but she studiously ignored any probing questions into her own well-being. She'd done what she had to to maintain her cover, and that was all she'd say on the matter.

Allura wrapped her arms around Meri's waist, pressing flush against her back. Meri instantly tensed, every line of her like stone in Allura's embrace. Allura frowned, sneaking another look at Meri's face. Lit from beneath by the display screen, it looked even more gaunt than ever, her eyes dull and distant. "Why don't you step away for a while?" Allura asked, trying not to put any judgement into the question. "Come get some sleep, start fresh in the morning. I'll help?" Meri gave an awkward shrug, her eyes never leaving the screen. She reached out mechanically to navigate the menus, and Allura idly followed her progress. She wasn't doing anything any more involved than she'd said. Just cataloging distress calls, routing memos from the Accords and the paladins' allies, approving maintenance reports and other minutiae of castle upkeep. She did it all with that same stiff posture, remaining rigid in Allura's arms. Maybe it was just Allura imagining things, but she seemed to actually be leaning away from her touch. "Meri?" Allura asked. She hesitated, all her diplomatic training failing her as she found she had no idea how to ask what she wanted to. Meri preempted her by turning around, a smile softening her face. It was a convincing smile, too. It even reached her eyes to crinkle them at the corners in the way that was so utterly Meri. But they were close enough that Allura could sense the faint currents of Quintessence running beneath her skin. Meri had shifted her features to produce this smile. If she wanted to, Allura could have reached out and cut the strands of Quintessence, forcing Meri out of the shift. She held off, but it wasn't respect for Meri's privacy that stayed her hand so much as a fear of what she would find underneath the perfect smile. How broken was Meri, that she couldn't even force a smile on her own face? "Sorry, 'Lura," Meri said. "I really should get this done tonight. Don't feel like you need to wait up for me, though. I know you've got an early day tomorrow." It was a dismissal, clear as day, and it stung enough that Allura couldn't scrounge together a response. She just gaped at Meri, fighting against her hurt and indignation. This wasn't about her. She couldn't lose sight of that. This was about Meri, hurting and upset and ashamed of it all for some reason Allura couldn't fathom, except that she knew what Meri looked like when she was punishing herself. She'd looked very much like this in the aftermath of Allura's mother's death. Freshly bonded to Blue, she'd withdrawn, building up a facade of strength and indifference in an attempt to be what she thought everyone expected her to be. She hadn't known how to build shifts like this back then, but Allura thought she would have worn them if she could. She'd never wanted to add her baggage to other people's. Meri didn't wait for Allura to find her voice. She just turned back to her busy work, shutting Allura out entirely. Allura could have pressed, could have turned this into a fight, but that wasn't what she wanted. It wasn't what either of them wanted, she suspected. In Meri's eyes, she probably thought she was sparing Allura the worse pain. With a heavy heart and a tongue that felt like cotton in her mouth, Allura retreated. She would talk to Coran in the morning. He might have some advice for her on what to do to help.

Coran wished he could say he was surprised when Allura came to him about Meri, but of all the ways to describe how he felt about this complicated nest of emotions, shock was not one of them. He was, after all, adjunct to the Blue Lion. He'd felt Meri's torment since long before she returned to the castle. Allura had been waiting outside his room when he woke for his morning duties--an early call even for Allura, who had always hated wasting the day away by sleeping in. She'd been dancing on her toes, clearly battling herself over whether or not to knock on his door and risk rousing him early. One look at Allura told him all he needed to know, especially coupled with the groggy malaise he sensed from Meri's direction. She wasn't asleep, though he thought she might have been trying. For once. "It's going to take time," he told Allura once she'd finished pouring out all her concerns. He'd ushered her back into his room and sat her on the edge of his bed, sending off a quick message while he fetched the down comforter that had always been her favorite. Something had come up, he told the ranking officer on the bridge, and he would be late to his usual rounds. "I know you were hoping for a better answer, and I wish I had one to give you." Allura sighed, pulling the corners of the blanket tight at her throat and leaning on Coran's shoulder. "I just want to be able to help her. I know she's hurting. Why won't she let me see it?" That was a complicated question with a complicated answer, and Coran didn't think Allura needed him to say so. She knew as well as anyone how hard it could be to admit weakness, even to a loved one. How long had she carried her grief for her father close to her own heart before she let the other paladins see her mourning? And this situation with Meri was more complicated still. Coran had seen glimpses of it in Thace, and he'd felt whole volumes from Meri through the bond. Considering that this insight was somewhat ill-gotten gains--and especially considering she'd pushed him away as much as she pushed away everyone else, to the point that Coran hadn't been able to tell her properly what it meant for him to be her adjunct... Well, he wasn't about to go telling Allura everything he'd inferred. "She's been through a terrible ordeal," Coran said. "I don't know the full of it, but I know she probably needs time to process. All you can do is be there for her. Remind her that she's not alone anymore. Then when she's ready to talk, she'll know who to turn to." Allura's sigh said she'd already known what it was she had to do, but she didn't like the idea of sitting around waiting for something beyond her power. That was fair. Coran didn't like waiting, either. So an hour later, after he'd coaxed Allura back to bed to catch up on the sleep she'd lost fretting over Meri, Coran himself went to find his insomniac paladin. She was down on the training deck, apparently haven given up on resting. She didn't notice him come in, and watching her sluggish movements as she took on a training bot--fairly low-leveled compared to her usual fare--Coran had to wonder just how much sleep she'd missed since her return last week. The shadows under her eyes were darker than he remembered from even just last night, her skin dry and waxen, her hair a limp mess. And she was moving slow, too. It wasn't the sluggishness of someone nearing the end of an intense workout. Meri quite simply couldn't track the training bot's movements, which meant that it kept catching her by surprise with its attacks. Coran winced as she took a blow to the ribs, staggering back with a soft grunt of pain. Her face screwed up in frustration and rage, and she launched herself at the gladiator, foregoing the staff she'd selected for this session in favor of a more... hands-on approach. Quintessence flared bright around her fingers, crackling in the air like a living thing and filling up the space between Coran and her. He couldn't read the currents to know her intent, but her hand sank into the gladiator's chest panel. The robot froze at once, its joints locking up, and an uncharacteristically vindictive smile flashed across Meri's face as she yanked her hand back and let the gladiator fall.

The crash of metal rang loud in the sudden silence, and Coran wasted no time in stepping forward. Better to announce himself than to have Meri notice and wonder if he'd been intentionally spying. "You're up early." She whirled toward him, horror dawning on her face for a brief moment before it was smoothed over--quite literally. If he hadn't seen the transformation, he never would have guessed that Meri had donned a shift, but there was nothing natural about the way the panic in her eyes glossed over to bland disinterest, or the way her skin and hair brightened minutely, lessening the appearance of neglect and exhaustion. Even the slump of her shoulders eased by way of a subtle shift in bone structure. Coran's stomach turned at the sight--or perhaps that was the coil of fear reaching him through the bond, stronger even than the shame and guilt twisting Meri's insides into knots. "Coran!" she said brightly. "Hey! Yeah. Figured I'd start the day off right. Haven't been able to keep up with my training lately, what with all the..." She trailed off, her manufactured smile dulling somewhat as anxiety wrapped around her throat. Coran felt it like it was his own emotion, and he had to swallow before he could speak. Even then, it came out strangled. "Of course. Let me know if you ever need a sparring partner." He grinned at her startled blink. "What? I'm not an old man just yet. And I need to be on my toes, what with the whole adjunct situation." She hummed, clearly too distracted to pick up on the hint Coran was trying to give her. He sighed, contemplating how else he might broach the subject of her emotional state. She was so on edge he knew she wouldn't respond well to a direct approach, and the last thing he wanted was to make her shut him down. She needed friends now more than anything. "Do you have plans for the rest of the day, then?" he asked instead, graciously bypassing her obvious exhausted stupor. She shrugged. "I finished the signoffs last night. Went through most of the backlog of Coalition memos, too. There's a few you or Allura will have to take a look at, but..." She trailed off, tightening her mouth around a yawn. Coran wished she would just admit how tired she was--or at least admit what it was that was keeping her from sleep. It felt wrong to ignore the yelmore in the room when he could have punctured her facade without much effort. But that wasn't what it meant to be the blue adjunct. He knew what his paladins needed, and what Meri needed right now wasn't more guilt on top of what she had already piled on herself. To have churned through so much work last night--Coran, better than anyone, knew just how much of a slog that would have been. He was amazed she hadn't fallen asleep at the console halfway through the fiftieth dull report from an ally somewhere. "Well," he said brightly, clapping his hands together. "Thank you for clearing that off my plate. If it's not too much to ask of you, perhaps I could get your help with a few more tasks?" A flush of pride briefly overtook Meri at Coran's thanks--far too much pride for such a simple thing, and it spoke to the depth of her self-loathing. Even more baffling was the staggering sense of relief that answered his request for help. Coran took a page from Meri's book and applied a touch of a shift to his face to conceal his alarm. He wasn't as practiced at it as Meri, and he was sure there were flaws in his shift--he'd never been the best at crafting new forms for himself, and he'd never attempted a partial shift like this before. Thankfully, Meri was too tired to scrutinize him too closely. She crossed the training room to retrieve her discarded staff, nearly toppling over in the attempt. She caught herself on the wall, freezing for a moment as a flood of heat washed through her. She was keenly aware of Coran's eyes on her; he could feel her self-consciousness and averted his eyes before he realized what he was doing, but even knowing its source, he couldn't make himself look directly at her until she'd stowed the staff in the weapons rack and joined him by the door. She wove a bit as she walked with him toward the elevator, fatigue written in every line of her body. She didn't offer any conversation, and he didn't try to tease it out of her. She looked like she might fall asleep standing up--and, in all honesty, Coran would have been glad of it. He didn't feel her exhaustion, exactly. It wasn't carried through the bond like true emotions. But there was a thick haze over her mood, dampening her emotions and heightening those few flashes that broke through the muddle, and trying to adjust himself to it all did give him a taste of what she must have been feeling. She didn't ask where they were going. If Coran had to guess, he would say she didn't care. It seemed to Coran she just wanted something to keep her moving. To keep her awake. He wondered if it was dreams that were bothering her. He reminded himself, again, that she didn't owe him answers, and let the silence swell as they neared their destination. He'd contemplated several options for the first step of what was sure to be a long journey to healing for Meri. She needed sleep, certainly, and he'd briefly entertained the idea of taking her up to the map room in the hopes that the low lighting and peaceful atmosphere might coax her into an involuntary nap. It seemed a little heavy-handed, especially as he couldn't be sure it would be worth the effort. He might well only succeed in stoking Meri's resentment before she stalked off to less lulling pursuits. So instead, he'd opted for a simpler deception. He'd asked Thace to join them in one of the equipment storage rooms for a routine systems check on the supply of BLIP-tech drones. It was a suitably voluminous task to justify having three people assigned to it, but straight-forward enough that it didn't require the attention of someone trained in the upkeep of complex machines. All that was really required was a visual inspection of the casing for damage or corrosion and a manual verification of the last self-check. Thace didn't know anything of the troubles Meri had been facing--at least, not more than he might have inferred because of his own history with espionage. Coran hadn't asked him to speak with Meri, nor had he told him that he had arranged for Zelka to call him away half an hour into the task. It didn't make this any less meddling, but at least he wasn't conspiring on top of that.

Besides, he couldn't very well have just asked Meri to go see Thace. Coran had long suspected she was deliberately avoiding Thace, and the way she stiffened when she saw him waiting inside the storage bay lent credence to that theory. Her steps slowed, her shift slipping momentarily as she visibly weighed the benefits of simply walking out of the room. She eventually decided to see it through, though her reluctance was strong enough to slow Coran's steps, too, and he shook himself, clapping his hands briskly as he entered the room. "Well!" he said, sending a silent apology to Thace, who had startled at the sudden noise. "Now that we're all here, let's get started, shall we?" It took only a few moments to demonstrate the checks, and then they were all off, working their way down separate rows at their own pace. Meri lagged behind the other two, moving on autopilot and struggling to stay awake, but Coran didn't call her on it. They were spread far enough apart that conversation was unnecessary and somewhat awkward, so they worked in companionable silence until Zelka called and Coran took his leave. He only prayed that Thace could help Meri where the rest of them couldn't.

Meri silently cursed Coran for leaving her alone with Thace, and then felt immediately guilty for the thought. There was nothing at all wrong with Thace. He was a good man, and the advice and resources he'd provided her with when she left on her ill-informed espionage mission had probably saved her life several times over. It had certainly enabled some of her more idiotic decisions, but that was hardly his fault. It also wasn't his fault being around him reminded her too much of her time in Haggar's inner circle. He had a way about him, a vigilance even soldiers like Shiro and Keith couldn't match. He was aware of his surroundings at all times, wary of potential threats, but he also watched with an eye that was well practiced at looking below the surface. He didn't have to stare for her to feel as though she were being picked apart. The only saving grace in this situation was that he was two rows over and Coran had promised to make this as quick as he could. With luck, he'd return from helping Zelka in ten or twenty minutes, and Meri could go back to shuffling along like a zombie and trying not to pass out in the middle of her inspection. Quiznak. She was so tired. She shook her head, though, shoving away her exhaustion, and kept moving. She finished ten drones, then twenty, and still Coran hadn't returned. Thirty drones on, she looked up to see Thace approaching down the next row. He was focused on his task, but his proximity raised an alarm in her bones. Someone was here. She couldn't let her guard down. She never had found a way to confirm whether or not her shifts held while she slept, and if he saw something he wasn't supposed to-- Meri caught herself following familiar old tracks of paranoid thought and stopped where she was, staring at her reflection in the polished shell of the BLIP-tech drone. What was she talking about? She wasn't on the Eryth anymore. She was among friends, and she didn't need to worry about someone seeing that she was an Altean. A purple cast had crept into her hand while she was drowning in pointless panic, and she banished that, too, mentally checking herself for any other Galra traits that might have slipped through. It had happened at least once a day since she'd returned--fangs, fur, purple pigmentation. Once she'd fully shifted her ears to the longer, floppier version she'd used as part of her Reza shift. Thace continued working as he drew near to Meri, not looking up from the screen in front of him. "Have you ever tried krebu?" Meri lifted her head to frown at Thace. Logic said he was talking to her. After all, there was no one else in the room. Still, her tired mind couldn't quite grasp the concept of conversation. "What?" she finally said, eloquently. Thace had enough tact not to comment on her mental state. "It's a tea," Thace said. "Old Galra recipe--though perhaps not as old as we like to pretend." Meri cracked a smile at that, the expression pulling at muscles that she swore she hadn't used in months. "I imagine a lot of things seem old until you meet someone from ten thousand years ago. It's good?" "A little bland for my taste, but I suppose that's the point." "The... point?" "It's a common remedy among civilian families. A lot of my men grew up with a parent or grandparent who liked to prescribe it for all sorts of ails. Nadezda swears by it. Personally, I find it hard to believe a few herbs can do all that people claim it can. It is good for insomnia, though. Better than anything else I've tried." Suspicion came roaring back in, popping Meri's bubble of complacency. She reinforced her placid partial shift on instinct before Thace's last statement clicked into place. "You too, huh?" she asked, well aware that she was admitting her own weakness. Well, a piece of it, at any rate. But Thace had a nonjudgmental air about him and, more importantly, there was just enough distance between them for it not to feel like a threat. It wasn't like with Allura and Coran, or even Lance and Rosa. She didn't-- Well, it wasn't that she didn't care what Thace thought of her. She just didn't think he'd known her long enough to have expectations for her to live up to. Thace smiled. "Ever since I left the Accords," he said softly. Something passed between them in those few words. An understanding, of sorts, that went beyond the insomnia. He'd been there. He'd done things to maintain his cover--awful, horrible things. Things that haunted him. Things he regretted, and had regretted from the moment he did them, but he'd done them all the same because the mission mattered more than one solitary person's conscience. The tears took her by surprise, as did most emotion these days. It snuck up on her, stealing her breath, and she turned back to her work before Thace could see her tearing up. She tried to breathe, but breathing only widened the cracks in her composure, so that left her holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut, as though by forcing the tears out faster she could reach the end of this hysteria sooner. Hysteria. She almost had to laugh at the fact that this was the word her mind had conjured to describe herself, when she'd always hated the way it was so often slung to undermine someone's emotional turmoil. To cheapen it. But she'd impersonated a druid, participated in the interrogation and torture of Imperial prisoners, risked death on a daily basis, and now here she was, crying over tea. Maybe hysteria was an apt word, in this case. "How do you do it?" she asked, hating the way her voice shook but unable to stop the words pouring out of her mouth. Thace remained quiet, waiting for her to elaborate, and she waved her hand in the air, using the gesture as an excuse to wipe her cheeks. She still stared at the pod in front of her. "After everything we've seen, everything we've done, how are we supposed to go back to the way things were?" "Slowly," Thace said, frankly, "and with the support of people who are better than us." He shifted, and when Meri finally turned, she found he had given up all pretense of keeping busy and was watching her now--with sympathy, yes, but also with an ache she knew all too well. "Is it the memories?" "No." Meri hesitated. "...Yes and no. Not memories as such. Just..." She turned away, a lump rising in her throat. "It's like it's not my mind that's stuck back there so much as my body. I couldn't... I never slept through the night while I was there. I was too afraid someone would walk in and notice something off about my shift." Her voice wavered, and she cursed herself, wiping her eyes now with both hands. There was nothing subtle about it, but Thace was far too perceptive to have missed the signs of an impending breakdown, anyway, and she just didn't have the energy to keep pretending. "I don't have to worry about that now. I shouldn't-- I want to sleep, but every time I try I wake up an hour later in a panic. It was worse when I tried to sleep in Allura's bed. It was-- She was there, and there was a part of me that thought she was the enemy."

Remembering that moment, remembering the way she'd reached for a weapon, the way she'd come so close to lashing out, to attacking the one person who mattered more to her than anything else in the universe--

Meri choked on a sob, shaking her head to dislodge the what-ifs that had been haunting her ever since. "When I wake up like that, I can't just go back to sleep. I'm up for another eight hours or more, and the only thing I can do is try to go until I'm about to drop and hope the exhaustion buys me an extra twenty minutes or so before it all starts over again." Her vision had blurred so much by now that she could hardly make Thace out across the row of drones, but he approached slowly, telegraphing his moves. Meri hated that she was so fragile he felt he had to treat her like a wounded animal, but she couldn't pretend she wasn't scared of how she might have reacted otherwise. She didn't expect him to trust her when she couldn't even trust herself. Instead, though, she remained where she was as he approached, his arms spread in a silent invitation. Of all the people in the castle who might have offered her a hug, Thace was pretty far down on the list, but coming from him it didn't feel so much like pity. She teetered on the edge for a moment, then fell against him, turning all her focus toward her breathing in a desperate attempt not to fall apart completely in his arms. "I'm sorry," Meri whispered, turning her forehead into his shoulder. She wasn't sure what she was apologizing for--crying on the lapels of his uniform? Or having this breakdown on him, instead of literally anyone else? She had a whole castle full of people with more reasons than Thace to care about her bullshit. Thace only hummed, an echo of a melody in the sound. "You have nothing to apologize for. Your actions saved a great deal more people than they harmed. It will get easier to see that, with time." Meri scrunched her face up as the flow of tears increased. "I know," she said, not knowing if it was the truth. "I just wish I'd been better." "Be better now," Thace said. "That's all you can do. And remember, this team you have... They don't know the things we know. I pray they never have to learn. But they know a thing or two about healing a fractured spirit... Coran knows the weight of regret as well as us, in his own way." Meri snorted with a sudden realization, then felt immediately silly for not having seen it before now. Vrekt, she really was tired. "He didn't just 'get called away,' did he?" Thace hummed again, one hand rubbing circles on her back. "I very much doubt it. For what it's worth, I didn't figure it out until he got the call, either." "Well... It kind of worked out, in the end," Meri admitted. She lingered in Thace's embrace for another moment, then pulled back. "Thanks. And... I'm sorry. I don't want to burden you with all of my drama." "It's not a burden to offer a little sympathy every now and again," Thace said. "I'm sure Allura and Coran would say the same." "I don't know if I can talk about it with them. Not yet." Thace smiled. "Then tell them that. They'll understand. The wonderful thing about comfort is that it doesn't require exhaustive knowledge of the context. They already know you're hurting; that's enough to start. Tell them what you can, and tell them that you're not ready for the rest, and then just... go from there." Tell them what she could, huh? Meri wasn't sure what that was, but she was long past the point of having enough energy to keep running from the darkness of her own mind. She just wanted to feel safe in her own body again. "Okay," she said. "I'll try." She wiped her eyes again, and pulled back to stand beside the next BLIP-tech drone in the row. She hesitated before beginning her inspection, however, and opened her mouth to ask a question that never came. "Go on," Thace said. "I don't think you need to stay here any longer." He glanced sidelong at his own drone. "If Coran actually needs this to be done, I'm sure he can find someone else to help him." "Punishing him for tricking you?" Meri asked with a feeble smile. Thace chuckled. "If he asks, I'll tell him we figured out what he actually wanted us to do and came to the logical conclusion that nothing else was required of us." Meri shook her head, but she wasn't going to complain about getting the rest of the day off. Her little miniature breakdown had worn her out faster than three hours on the training deck. She might actually make it a full two hours before she woke this time. She nodded to Thace and took a single step toward the door, then stopped again. "Actually...." "Krebu?" Thace asked with a knowing smile. "I stole some while we were on homeworld. Would you care to join me for a cup?" Meri smiled, a weight lifting from her shoulders. "I'd like that very much."

Allura got another hour of sleep before giving up the effort. A very large part of her wanted to go find Meri--not that she knew what she would do after that point. Her conversation with Coran kept rattling around in her head. Be there for Meri, but don't push. It was a delicate balance to strike, especially for someone like Allura, who by her nature wanted to fix problems, not merely commiserate. Unfortunately, Coran was right. This wasn't a problem she could fix. There was no clever solution she could propose that would mend all of Meri's hurts, and until Meri reached a point where she was ready to ask for help, there was very little Allura could do. But she would commiserate until the end of time if that was what Meri needed. It would be better than trying to help and getting pushed away again. Apparently she had time to come to terms with the gentle approach, though, because Meri seemed to have finally gone in search of sleep--or at the very least, she wasn't in any of her usual haunts, new or old. No in any of her favorite places--the synthetic hot springs at the top of Blue Tower, the observation deck where they'd spent so many evenings watching the stars. She wasn't with Blue, either, and Lance hadn't seen her all morning. But she wasn't on the bridge or the training deck either. She may have been in her room, but if she was, Allura was loathe to disturb her. Allura stifled her disappointment and returned to the observation deck to think. It was good that Meri had allowed herself to take a break. She needed all the rest she could get. It did leave Allura feeling rather useless, however. Coran had told her to take the morning off, which meant she still had several hours before he expected her on the bridge. She supposed she could go find Shiro and see what else needed to be done today. She contemplated doing just that, but she'd already settled in on the cushioned bench beside the large, round window, a blanket draped over her lap and a mound of pillows behind her. It was a cozy little nest (not as cozy as it would have been with Meri beside her, but some things were outside of Allura's control), and she was reluctant to move. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, watching the slow drift of stars as the castle-ship drifted through space, but it was long enough that she'd begun to drift herself, her mind falling into that pleasant, weightless warmth right on the edge of sleep. The door hissing opened startled her awake, and she scrubbed at crusty eyes as she turned to see who had found her. Meri stood in the doorway, a sweater in the human style pulled over her rumpled uniform. She had a steaming mug in each hand, bags under her eyes, and a shy smile on her face. "Meri!" Allura stood, tripping over her blanket. She was wide awake now--wide awake and filled with directionless energy. She wanted to say something to Meri, but she didn't know what. Didn't know why Meri had come to find her, after spending the last week trying her best to avoid being alone together. Meri closed the distance between them first, holding out one of her mugs to Allura. "I brought you some cocoa," she said. "Rosa's recipe." "Oh," Allura said, staring dumbly at the mug. "Thank you." They stood there awkwardly for a few moments longer, Meri staring into her own mug, which looked more like tea than cocoa, Allura watching Meri for a sign of what she wanted Allura to do. She looked more vulnerable than she had last night, like she'd finally decided to let her guard down, but Allura didn't want to ruin that by asking probing questions. "Do you... Do you want to watch the stars with me?" Allura finally asked. Meri's answering smile lit a bonfire in Allura's chest, and they settled in together on the bench by the window, shoulders pressed together, the blanket spread over both their laps. The cocoa was delicious, and it spread the warmth throughout Allura's body, soothing some of her nerves. "I'm sorry I've been so distant," Meri said, both hands wrapped around her mug. She stared out at the stars, the soft blue glow of the room's emergency lighting catching in her hair, which was still damp from a recent shower. The light softened her, washing away the marks of her experiences in Haggar's circle. Allura laid a hand on her arm. "You don't need to apologize, Meri. You've been through a lot. You're allowed to take some time to adjust." Meri gave her a watery smile, laying her own hand atop Allura's. "Thanks. I... I know you want to help, and you deserve to know everything. I just... I don't know when I'll be ready to talk about it. It's all too fresh right now. Is it okay if we just... sit... for a while? I've missed you." "I missed you, too," Allura said, squeezing Meri's wrist. "We can do whatever you like. You know I'll always be here for you." Meri's face crumpled, and she gave a self-conscious laugh as Allura pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice hitching. "I just... You shouldn't promise things when you don't have all the information." Allura's throat constricted, and she carefully set aside their two mugs--her still mostly full, Meri's down to the dregs. She turned, cradling Meri's cheek in the palm of hand and gently turning her head until their eyes met. "You're right that I don't know everything you've done," she said, bringing up her other hand to curl around the back of meri's neck, her fingers tangling in the short, fine hairs at the base of her skull. "But I know you, and I know why you did what you did. That's enough for now. When you're ready to talk about what happened, I'll listen, but I already know nothing you say will change how I feel about you." Meri's eyes watered, and she pulled away from Allura's touch. "You can't know that." "Of course I can," Allura whispered. She leaned back into the mound of pillows, pulling Meri with her. "We're at war, Meri. We all face impossible decisions--some more horrific than others. Sometimes we regret our decisions. Sometimes we wish there had been another way." She paused, weighing her words. "You think I think less of Shiro for his past? Or Keith? Thace? I won't pretend that the decisions I've had to make are anything like what you've faced, but I'm not naive. I know the ugliness that exists in this universe." Meri wound tighter in Allura's arms for a moment, then slowly relaxed against her, her breathing evening out. "I guess we all do, by now."

"Unfortunately." Allura wove her fingers into Meri's hair, combing it back from her face. "But I also know that good people are still good, whatever ugliness they’ve faced, and that we can still carve out places to breathe for a moment, away from it all."

"Places like here?" Meri asked, turning so her chin rested on Allura's breastbone. A crooked smile had taken over her face, and it made Allura's heart melt.

"Places like here. Whatever ugliness is out there, I won't let it reach you while we're together. I swear it. So try to get some rest, all right?"

Meri's smile slipped. "I... I'll try. But, Allura, you need to know--sometimes, when I first wake up, I forget that I'm not back there. I don't--You don't need to worry about it. I'm dealing. I'm learning how to. But you should know, because I'm probably going to wake up in a couple hours, and there's a good chance I'll wake you up when I do."

Allura's chest tightened in sympathy, and she kissed Meri's forehead. "Thank you for telling me. Is there anything I can do to help if that happens? Or should I give you space?"

"Space," Meri said, after a moment's pause. "Just for a minute. Just until I figure out what's happening."

Smiling, Allura guided Meri's head down onto her chest. "I can do that. Now rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

"I love you, Allura."

"I love you, too. I always will."

#bad things happen bingo #bthb #voltron duality #alluri #worked themself to exhaustion #my fic

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punmasterkentparson · 6 years

Text

Hooked on Feelings

kicking this out of my WIP folder ��cause it’s been there for almost a month.

(ao3, part of the Parswoops Neighbors AU)

It’s not even halfway through January when Jeff’s life takes a turn for the worst.

It happens like this: he’s walking through the parking lot of his company office when he hears a soft, sad sound. He stops dead and turns his head slowly, listening. He hears the air conditioning units on the other side of the building, and distant drone of cars on the highway. Nothing out of the ordinary. But through that, Jeff hears the sound again.

He takes a few steps towards it, stops, and listens.

There, again.

He carefully follows the noise across the parking lot, all the way to the hedges that line the building. The noise is coming from behind them, so he has to lean over them to see the source. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting. To be honest, he isn’t giving it much thought; he follows out of curiosity more than anything else.

He only realizes his mistake when he catches sight of what’s behind the bushes, curled up and shivering on the wet mulch.

“…Oh, fuck.”

–

When Jeff gets home, he puts his foundling in the bathtub, nestled among a pile of towels. The wet thing cries for an hour before going to sleep.

Jeff’s second order of business is to text Kent frantically. There’s no reply for hours.

When Kent finally does get off work, he doesn’t text to say he’s coming; he just shows up at Jeff’s front door, already grinning like a smug loon.

“Shut up,” Jeff says. Left alone to his own devices, he has lost all sense of composure. He barely managed to scrounge up dinner with a side of beer to calm his nerves. Ten minutes ago he realized he was still in his work suit and finally changed for bed, which means the rattiest clothes he owns. Meanwhile, Kent is wearing the sleek, expensive-looking active wear that’s basically his work uniform and makes him look like a fitness god. Kent looks calm and capable. Jeff feels like a helpless hot mess.

Kent comes in, still grinning. “Where is it?”

The “it” has started making noise in the bathroom again, so Jeff doesn’t even bother with an answer, just waves a hand. Kent goes right in.

As soon as Kent sees what’s in the tub, he lets out the softest gasp that Jeff has ever heard out of a grown man.

“Oh, honey,” Kent sighs, and reaches into the tub to pry a meowing, squirming little gray-and-white cat off the towels. He gathers it in his arms, heedless of its claws, and cuddles it to his chest. “Aren’t you just the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Jeff can absolutely agree with that. The cat (or kitten? It’s medium-sized, at least.) is drier than when he brought it in, but it still has matted fur in odd places and a bite out of one ear. The worst thing, however, is its tail, which is hanging on by a literal thread with the tip dragging along like a sad, lifeless caterpillar. Jeff honestly had been afraid to touch it when he found the cat outside, and had gone back to his car for a reusable shopping bag. (Which he is absolutely going to throw away or burn, now.)

Kent is cooing at the gross monstrosity and gently petting its ears. The cat has settled right in, which is annoying because Kent hasn’t even done anything yet, whereas Jeff rescued the damn thing and it squirmed the whole way into the apartment. There are red lines all over his arms from overgrown claws.

“It was outside my office,” Jeff says. “I found it in a bush. It was pretty cold, though, so it didn’t really wake up and start making a racket until I got it home.”

“And you just couldn’t leave him out there, huh?”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“Magical cat-owner sense,” Kent replies, deadpan. “Also, I checked when I picked him up just now. He’s got massive cat balls.”

Jeff looks to the heavens for deliverance. “Look, obviously I don’t know a damn thing about cats. Can you take it for the night? I’ll pick it up tomorrow afternoon and take it to the vet, or the shelter, or whatever. Or, hell, you can keep it if you want.”

Kent’s shit-eating grin doesn’t bode well for Jeff. “Bro, I’ve got a house cat with a delicate constitution in my apartment. She’s vaccinated and shit, but who knows if this guy has fleas or ringworm or something. When I go home, I’m not even gonna touch anything until I’ve dumped all my clothes in the wash.”

“Ringworm? Fleas?” Jeff feels ill.

“Well, I take it back on the fleas,” Kent says, his fingers carefully searching through the cat’s fur. “I don’t see any flea dirt, so you’re probably in the clear. Still, better safe than sorry, those suckers are a pain in the ass to get rid of.”

This is officially the worst day of Jeff’s life. He is never going to do a good deed ever again. “So you’re telling me I’m stuck with a possibly flea and worm-infested cat for the night?”

Kent’s smile quirks in a way that’s almost fond. “I’ll hook you up with some cat food, and the name of Kit’s vet. They open at eight, so if you take some time off in the morning, you can probably take him in right away.”

“Where the fuck am I supposed to shower?”

Kent straight-up laughs, the dick. He has to see that Jeff is losing his shit. “Chill, bro. You can use mine. I’ll give you a key, you can just come right in whenever.”

So that’s that, apparently. Kent puts the cat back in Jeff’s bathtub—which Jeff definitely needs to sanitize the hell out of now, Christ, fuck everything—and leads Jeff upstairs. Before going into his apartment, Kent strips off his sweatshirt and shoes, and the moment they’re in the door he starts pulling off the rest of his clothes, too.

Despite knowing why Kent is getting naked, Jeff feels himself getting warm under the collar. And everywhere else. “Um.”

“Don’t touch anything,” Kent says as he pulls down his shorts and then shimmies out of his leggings. His ass is like marble and watching it move is making Jeff’s stomach flip. For better or worse, Kent is wearing skin-tight briefs underneath. “I’ll get the cat food, hold on.” Kit chooses that moment to run up, but Kent hops backwards, saying, “No, Kit—baby, just give daddy a sec, okay?” Then he scampers off to his bathroom, leaving a confused cat standing near Jeff, who hasn’t moved from the door except to close it behind him.

Kit sits on the floor and regards him.

“Hey,” he says. “Don’t mind me.”

Kit gives him a slow blink and a tail twitch. From Kent’s bathroom comes the sound of rummaging, and then Kent emerges wearing only a towel. He’s dry, so clearly he didn’t wash off, he just…stripped.

“Aren’t you going a little overboard?” Jeff asks. His heart feels like a locomotive picking up steam.

“Nope,” Kent replies, and disappears into the bedroom. He doesn’t close the door, so Jeff has to pretend he doesn’t see the towel getting flung onto the bed, or a flash of Kent’s bare ass as he crosses the room to his closet.

“God, I hate you, you sexy motherfucker,” Jeff mutters under his breath.

Kent comes out a few minutes later, wearing sweatpants and a clean hoodie over a ratty t-shirt. He’s got his key ring in one hand and is twisting something off it. “Here. Spare house key.” He holds it out to Jeff, who takes it.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Kent looks amused by Jeff’s befuddlement. “I sleep like a rock, so even if you come in at the asscrack of dawn, you’re not gonna wake me up.”

Waking Kent up was not the basis for Jeff’s objection. Clearly the issue of trust never crossed Kent’s mind. Jeff vows to guard the key like it’s his own deposit. “Okay. Thanks.”

After that, Kent pulls half a dozen cans of wet cat food out of his kitchen pantry and puts it in a bag for Jeff. Then he borrows Jeff’s phone and programs in the number of Kit’s vet. Jeff would chirp him for having the number memorized, if he wasn’t still vaguely haunted by the memory of Kent breaking a glass and crying in his apartment when Kit was sick.

Too soon, Jeff is back in his apartment, alone, with the yowls of a gross street cat echoing in his bathroom.

He groans, sighs, and heads for his kitchen to dig out a make-shift food bowl.

–

The next morning, Jeff wakes up at his usual time of five-thirty and hauls himself out of bed. The cat stopped crying at around one a.m., so that’s about when Jeff fell asleep. He feels like shit. He needs coffee, breakfast, and a shower. So, after starting the coffee maker, he grabs a towel and heads upstairs to Kent’s place.

Unlocking the door and sneaking inside when the lights are all off makes him feel like an intruder. He bumps into a few things on his way to the bathroom and finds out that Kent’s shower is noisy as hell. When he comes out ten minutes later, damp and wearing the clothes he arrived in, he’s amazed to see that Kent hasn’t stirred. The door to Kent’s bedroom is open and Jeff catches sight of him passed out under the layers of bed sheets.

Jeff sneaks back to his apartment. The mangy monster in his bathroom is awake and starting to meow.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get your damn breakfast,” he tells it when he goes in to retrieve its bowl. By the time he has fed the creature and gotten coffee for himself, it’s nearly six-thirty. How does time go so fast?!

“Yeah, hi,” he says when he calls his department head. “Sorry, Ted, I know it’s early—Just needed to let you know I’ll be late getting in today. …Maybe noon? Yes, of course. I’ll email it to you, and look over your notes when I come in. …No, nothing like that. Just a little situation at home. Yeah, see you. Thanks.”

Thank god for Jeff’s infamous work ethic. He hasn’t taken unplanned time off in almost a year. People will notice he’s gone, but nobody will side-eye him for it.

It’s not until Jeff has googled the address of Kent’s vet, gotten dressed, and mentally prepared himself to head out that he realizes something vital: he has no fucking idea how he’s going to transport the furry goblin from his apartment to his car.

“Jesus H Christ.”

Last night, when Jeff wrapped it up in the cloth shopping bag, the cat had been too cold and hungry to protest. Now, having warmed up and slept and eaten, the thing is scratching at Jeff’s bathroom door and crying to be let out. Just because it didn’t scratch Kent up last night doesn’t mean it won’t tear into Jeff if he tries to move it somewhere this morning.

He digs a jean jacket and a pair of thick winter gloves out of his closet for protection. Then he steels himself for disaster and opens the bathroom door a crack to squeeze inside.

The cat doesn’t escape. Instead, it flees to the other side of the small bathroom, hiding behind the toilet and continuing to yell.

“Okay, buddy,” Jeff says. “Come quietly and please don’t send me to the hospital, yeah?”

By some miracle, Jeff gets the cat in the bag, out to his car, and halfway across town to the vet’s. He arrives about five minutes after they open, so they’re able to see him immediately. With far more visible comfort than Jeff had displayed carrying the cat in, the vet carefully takes the animal out and examines it.

“We’ll need to run some tests for parasites,” she says. “I’d also recommend an FiV test.”

“FiV?”

“Feline HIV.”

Jeff nods. “Okay. Yeah.”

“As for the tail,” she adds, carefully touching the sad, stringy thing with gloved hands, “I probably don’t have to tell you that it needs to be amputated.”

“I figured. How much will all that cost?”

She gives him a rough estimate. Jeff sighs and says, “Sure. Let’s do all the things you said.”

The tests come back in twenty minutes. It turns out that the cat does not have fleas, but it does have intestinal parasites that will require twice-a-day meds for the next week. They still need to take care of the tail, so after getting the results and paying for it all at the front desk, Jeff leaves, heading home for a change of clothes before he goes to work.

Around noon, Kent texts him.

just got up, how’s ur cat?

Jeff sighs, puts down his sandwich, and sends back,

Not my cat, and it has intestinal parasites. They’re gonna amputate the tail. I have to go back tonight to pick the cat up.

Kent sends a smilie face.

Jeff leaves work at his usual time and drives to the vet. He hadn’t told anyone at his office the reason for his morning lateness. He doesn’t want to spend a week fielding inquiries about the cat’s condition.

The cat is subdued from its experience at the vet. It has seventy-five percent less tail, the end of which is wrapped up in bandages that the cat is not allowed to lick or bite under any circumstances. A Victorian-style plastic collar has been included for the purpose of preventing this. Jeff goes home with a bag of medications, a cat carrier, and a cat brush. He’d been strongly advised to brush the cat out and get rid of the matting as soon as possible, before the clumps of fur become hazardous to the cat’s health or invite—of course—fleas.

Once home, Jeff gets the cat settled in his bathtub, giving it dinner and a bowl of water. He also brings in a few more hand towels for extra comfort, because he’s animal-inept but he’s not heartless. Now that the worst of the situation has been dealt with, he can take a moment to sit on the edge of the tub and just observe.

It’s not an ugly cat, he decides. It won’t be winning any beauty contests, not with that knobby tail stub and half-bitten ear, but its fur markings are okay. He dares to pat the cat while it eats. It ignores him.

Five minutes later, Kent shows up. “How’s the patient?” he asks, still standing at Jeff’s front door.

“You didn’t even call to see if I was home. Have you seriously been listening for me, just so you could see this damn cat?” Jeff demands.

Kent doesn’t deny it; he just waits for Jeff to roll his eyes and show him to the bathroom.

“I have two different types of meds I have to make it eat twice a day this week,” Jeff bemoans while Kent sits on the edge of the tub and coos over the cat. “I think they’re pills. How do you make cats eat pills?”

“Mix them with the food,” Kent replies. “Or find a treat the cat really loves and put it in that.”

Jeff nods. “I have to brush it out, too, apparently.” He’s a little scared to do it. What if he does it wrong and the cat bites him? What if he pulls out fur or skin?

His fear must show on his face because Kent just smiles, shakes his head, and says, “I can show you. D’you have a brush?”

And it turns out that brushes are some kind of cat cheat code. Within minutes, Kent has the cat flopped out in the tub and purring like a motor while he carefully scrapes through a thick matt near its tail. “It just takes patience,” he says. “You wanna give it a shot?”

Jeff does not. Kent gives him the brush anyway. Jeff switches spots with Kent at the tub and tries to mimic his movements with the brush. He knows he’s a bit stiff, but he’s still worried that he’s one fuckup away from a bleeding hand.

Kent, however, settles down on the tile to watch. “It’s just a cat,” he says, the lit to his voice definitely teasing. “Not a bomb. If you relax, the cat will relax.”

Jeff shakes his head. “I suck at handling animals, Parse. It’s just fact.”

Chuckling, Kent gives him a light smack on the thigh. “Good thing you’re cute, then.”

Jeff’s heart skips a beat. Kent has averted his gaze to the floor. There might be a blush on his cheeks, but Jeff doesn’t know what it means—if it’s, ‘oops, I said too much,’ or ‘oops, no homo.’ He likes Kent too much to risk being wrong. “I really doubt the cat cares,” he replies, and after the silence stretches a few safe seconds, he adds, “Thanks for helping me with this.”

Kent’s cheeks are still rosy when he looks up and grins. “No problem, man. Trust me, you’ve got this.”

–

The week drags on and Jeff doesn’t feel like he’s ‘got this’. He keeps the cat in his bathroom out of paranoia of parasites and having all his furniture clawed up while he’s gone. (After all, his apartment is not remotely cat-proofed.) Not that it matters. For the first week, he comes home daily to find shredded bath towels and teeth marks on the cabinet door corners and puddles of urine next to a perfectly good litter box that Kent helps him buy. He goes through endless paper towels and does a shit-ton of laundry and learns to dab hot sauce on anything the cat might deem edible.

He scoops so. Much. Cat poop.

But life continues, taking him to work and home again and back, and somehow he manages to feed, water, and medicate the cat without causing it any harm. He even brushes out all the matted fur, leaving bald spots and dander. Then, once the parasites are gone and the tail is healed up, he takes the cat back to the vet to be neutered. The cat strongly objects to the return of the plastic collar. Jeff figures it’s just as well he’s keeping the cat in his bathroom, since he can’t imagine what the cat might knock over with its cone head.

This means he also continues showering at Kent’s place. It feels weird. In part because he uses Kent’s shampoo since it’s easier than bringing his own every time—and because Kent insisted—but also because catching glimpses of Kent still asleep in his bed makes Jeff feel domestic. Like he actually lives with Kent, instead of just borrowing his bathroom. “Good thing you’re cute, then,” keeps echoing in his head like a broken record.

Dealing with the cat is bad enough, so Jeff pushes those heart-pang feelings to the back of his mind until he can ignore the fact that he has them.

The weekend following the cat’s neutering, there’s another hockey game with the league—and this time it’s against another team. A co-ed club from a community college the next city over takes the bus into Vegas, gear and sticks and all.

Jeff really enjoys playing that night. There’s an acute sense of competition, of “us versus them,” and although there are no refs to call penalties and therefore a standing agreement that they all play fair, Jeff wouldn’t say they’re all necessarily polite. Nobody is hooking or tripping or cross-checking, but they’re also not above bodily shoving each other out of the way to get at the puck.

The co-ed team wins.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?!” Rabs hollers at them as they celebrate, which gets him some laughter from both teams and a brazen middle finger from one of the college kids.

“I’m surprised your knee held out two full periods, old man!” yells back a girl who’s probably barely eighteen, and she high-fives her teammates when the beer league guys just laugh at Rabs.

Half the beer league and most of the college kids go out for drinks after. As they commandeer a couple of tables, Bommer yells over the fuss, “If I catch any of you kids drinking underage or using a fake I.D., I’ll arrest your ass. Got it?” Then he heads for the bar.

One of the college kids leans close to Jeff. “He’s not serious, is he?”

Jeff knows for a fact that Bommer isn’t, because Bommer arrests drug dealers and vandals and rapists but not idiot college kids trying to sneak a beer—he just lectures them into next week. But Jeff looks the college kid dead in the eye and lies, “He once arrested his own daughter.”

It’s really fun to watch that little story get passed around in hushed whispers.

It’s also surprisingly fun to hang out with the college kids. Sure, they’re obnoxiously cocky and self-assured, but it’s just a product of their age. They chat about school, careers, reality TV, celeb gossip—and hockey, of course hockey. Some of the college kids are shooting for the big leagues, others content to leave hockey on the sidelines while they pursue other dreams. The college kids who are legal get drunk faster than the league guys. Most of them proceed to make fools of themselves, while their underage friends take pictures and videos to blackmail them with later.

It’s good. Kent is two seats down, close enough for Jeff to yell-talk at him but far enough away that after Jeff’s hands won’t get stupid after he’s had a few beers. Kent is loose and relaxed tonight, his smiles a dime a dozen, and every time Jeff catches one directed at him, his stomach swoops.

The college kids nearby manage to drag him into a conversation about Survivor, and then Lost. This leads to him getting into an argument with two of the girls about which season of Lost was the best (Jeff says the first, they’re adamant it’s the last). One of the girls is laughing a little too much at his lame-ass jokes and almost falling over her friend as she leans in to yell over the music. At one point, she catches herself from swaying with a hand on Jeff’s thigh and she leaves it there, and—okay, Jeff knows what this is.

He laughs and says, “I think you’ve had enough for the evening, huh?” He takes her hand off his leg and politely pushes it back to her. She’s drunk enough that her embarrassment just makes her laugh, and her friends laugh, too.

“Are you gay?” asks the drunk girl. It’s not an accusation, just a loose tongue brought on by alcohol. “’Cause, like, that’s cool, just I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable, you know?”

“I am, actually,” Jeff says, and winks. “But even if I wasn’t, you’re a little young for me, honey.”

“But college boys are so lame!” the drunk girl hollers, and a couple of the guys around her immediately jump in to refute this assertion.

The conversations splinter and roll on. Jeff’s attention shifts away from the college kids and back to his own friends, where a few seats are already empty due to the guys in question having babysitters to relieve, spouses to see, or weekend shifts to get ready for. Kent, for once, isn’t heading home early, although he does keep checking his phone.

When he catches Jeff looking, he grins and shows him a livestream feed of his living room. In it, Kit is curled up on the sofa.

“That’s adorable,” Jeff says, and he really means it.

Kent grins and takes his phone back. “What about your monster?”

Jeff is not thankful for the reminder. “I fed him and made him take his pills before I left. I also scooped his gross litter box and changed the towels in the tub. He won’t stop peeing on them,” he complains.

Mike leans in. “Swoops, are you holding a kid hostage in your bathroom?”

Kent’s grin takes on epic proportions. “Jeff got a cat.”

“I did not get a cat,” Jeff corrects. “I found a dirty stray in a bush outside my office, and now it lives in my bathroom. I haven’t showered in my own apartment in weeks.”

Mike makes a point of sniffing Jeff until Jeff shoves him away. “Funny, you don’t smell any worse than usual.”

“Haha, you’re hilarious. I’m showering—somewhere else.” Jeff catches himself before he confesses to both having Kent’s apartment key and free access to his shower. Mike looks skeptical, so Jeff adds, “At a neighbor’s.”

“Generous neighbor,” Mike says, at exactly the same time as Kent stands up and says, “Last round, any takers? I mean orders, you moochers, I’m not paying!” All the previous requests for booze are waived off, which make Jeff laugh.

Once Kent is gone, Mike raises an eyebrow at him and says, “Kent lives in your building, doesn’t he?”

“Sure does,” Jeff replies, and chugs half his beer to avoid furthering that line of inquiry.

Mercifully, Mike lets it go, and they talk about other things. Until Mike is checking over his shoulder at the bar and lets out a low whistle. “Well, that’s ballsy.”

Jeff knows he shouldn’t look. He looks.

Kent is leaning on the bar, drink in hand, talking to one of the college guys. They must have met up at the bar, getting drinks at the same time. Except they’re standing close, and College Boy has a hand on Kent’s arm, and as Jeff watches, College Boy leans in to say something into Kent’s ear. Something that makes Kent laugh.

College Boy is flirting and Kent…doesn’t mind.

Jeff turns back around. He feels like his face is on fire. Guess that answers the question of homo or no homo, he thinks, mildly hysterical.

Next to him, Mike says, “The kid’s got balls going for Parson, I’ll give him that. He’s a little on the young side.”

“They’re both adults,” Jeff replies, mouth on autopilot. Now that the surprise is wearing off, he’s starting to simmer with resentment. How the fuck is a college kid managing the balls to flirt with Kent when Jeff has been sitting on his own hands since fall?

Mike snorts, and takes another look back over his shoulder. “Well, you can chill. Parson’s coming back.”

A few seconds later, Kent drops into his seat and then asks, utterly sans segue, “If Darth Vader and Voldemort faced off, who would win?”

“Voldemort,” says Mike without hesitation.

Kent gestures so hard with his free hand that he almost spills his drink in the other. “That’s what I said!” he exclaims, and then shouts down the table, “Because you can’t use the force if you’re Avada Kedavera’d to death, Peter!”

Jeff looks down the table and recognizes “Peter” as the flirt. He’d been on the brink of voting for Vader, just to be contrary, but now the retort dies in his throat.

Mike says, “I was thinking more along the lines that he’d be faster. Is magic even legal during a game?”

Peter is shaking his head. “If it’s not legal in Quidditch, it’s not legal in hockey.”

“Do wizards even have hockey?” asks a girl next to Peter.

“Darth Vader probably sucks at hockey,” Kent says. “He grew up on a freaking desert planet, come on.”

Somehow, the argument continues for another half hour. Jeff thinks the only reason they eventually leave is because the bar makes its last call, and the fact that all the college kids still have to get to their motel.

Outside the bar, while they wait for taxis, Jeff sees Peter sidle up to Kent again and murmur into his ear. Kent giggles, shakes his head, and gently pushes Peter away towards his friends, who pull him towards a cab. Jeff shouldn’t feel as relieved as he does.

Kent catches Jeff watching. Jeff instantly looks away.

After Peter is gone, Kent joins Jeff on the sidewalk. “That bother you?”

Jeff’s heart jack-knifes in his chest. “No,” he manages. “Why—why would it bother me?” As smooth as a rockslide. Fantastic.

Kent shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. “I dunno. Some guys have a thing about it. And, you know, I never mentioned I’m bi, so…” Another shrug.

Oh. Oh. They’re having a totally different conversation than Jeff thought. He’s not being called out on his pining; Kent thinks Jeff might be a shade homophobic. Clearly he didn’t catch the exchange Jeff had with that college girl in the bar. He needs a moment to re-orient himself. Then he blurts, “I’m super gay. Just—unbelievably gay. My horoscope sign is a rainbow unicorn.”

Kent doubles over laughing. When he can speak again, he wheezes, “Wow. Okay. Crisis averted. Jesus, that’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said.”

“It was definitely not,” Jeff argues. “I’ve said way funnier.”

“Way dumber, too.”

“You’ve said way dumber, today.”

Kent laughs again and slings an arm around Jeff. It feels hot and strong and Jeff’s whole body is tingling. Kent leans in and declares, grinning, “Yeah, but I’m drunk, ripped, and hot. Nobody gives a shit what I say.”

Jeff picks a perfect time to glance sideways and drop his gaze to Kent’s mouth. Christ, it looks wet and soft.

“See, you’re not listening to me at all, are you?”

“Am too,” Jeff retorts, strained, and drags his gaze back up. There’s a shadow on Kent’s jaw, the blond beard just dark enough to betray a missed morning shave, and Jeff is having the insane urge to just lean in and find out what that feels like under his tongue.

Rabs startles him half to death by yelling, “We got you guys a cab, get in!”

They’re sharing with Cash, which is a blessing and a curse. Jeff gets squished between them, and when Cash starts pulling up pics of his kids that his babysitter sent, Kent leans over to see. He smells like beer and fried cheese and hours-old cologne, and his warm, solid body is plastered all up along Jeff’s side. Kent puts his arm back around Jeff and it feels so good to be tucked against him that Jeff’s chest feels like it’s caving in with the force of his heartache.

God, how he wants.

Kent’s and his apartment comes first. They clamor out and wave after the disappearing taxi until it’s gone. Then they head into the building, where they find an Out Of Order sign on the elevator.

“Goddammit,” Jeff grumbles. “I hate taking the stairs. So much fucking exercise.”

Kent grabs his hand and tugs him towards the exit door. “It’s just five flights. Come on, you baby.”

“I’ve got four flights to climb,” Jeff complains, though he’s mostly distracted by the firm surety of Kent’s grip to really protest. “Why are you dragging me up to your floor?”

Kent holds his hand up the whole three flights. Jeff’s heart is pounding by the time they reach Kent’s apartment. He knows it’s not from the climb.

“You wanna come in for a bit?” Kent asks. “Say hi to Kit?” His smile is lopsided and so openly fond that Jeff knows, intuitively and like a vise on his ribs, that if he says ‘yes’ to that offer, he might actually get what he’s longing for.

He didn’t know until now that he’s a coward.

“I gotta check on the monster,” he says, carefully letting go of Kent’s hand. “You know, food and shit.”

“Right, right.” Kent’s hands go into his pockets, out of reach. Jeff wants them back in his more than he can say; which is probably why he doesn’t.

“Night, Parser.”

“Night, Jeff.”

It’s a lonely walk up to his apartment. As soon as he’s inside, he clenches his jaw, then his fists, and after a second of internally fuming, he kicks the door. “Goddammit!” he hisses. “Fuck. Fuck me.”

From his bathroom, the stray cat yowls. Jeff waits until he has taken a few calming breaths before going to feed it.

He finds broken glass and the stench of cologne. The cat is cowering in a corner to hide from the smell.

“I hate you,” Jeff groans, and retreats to the kitchen for a roll of paper towels.

–

Nothing changes between Jeff and Kent. Jeff remembers everything from that night and he knows Kent remembers everything too, but nothing about their friendship changes. Jeff wouldn’t have minded that if he didn’t get the feeling he’d blown his chance for more.

At the next hockey game, there are two scouts in the stands, and Kent chats with them both. He also chats with the scouts who show up to the game after that.

It’s impossible for the rest of the guys to miss.

“They’re like flies on shit all of a sudden,” Rabs says after a day of three scouts. “Parser, you getting any offers?”

“Did you just call me dogshit?” Kent demands, and then shrugs noncommittally. “Not really offers, just talks.”

“Yeah, but. You gonna sign, if you get something good?”

And Kent replies to that like he always does—laughs it off, shakes his head, says something about how nobody’s really looking to sign him, they’re just checking him off a list of known free agents. None of it means anything.

Jeff believes that, right up until he sees the contracts.

It’s by accident; he goes into Kent’s apartment at the ass-crack of dawn, like always, ready to shower. He finds Kent passed out on the sofa. Jeff pauses in the living room, curious, because Kent is wearing his sleeping clothes but clearly drifted off before he made it to bed. The lamp next to him is still on.

What catches Jeff’s eye are the contracts spilled out over Kent’s coffee table. There are three, as far as he can tell, and each one has a piece of notepaper next to it covered in notes.

It’s what Jeff wanted for Kent, and what Kent has worked for. But it makes Jeff feel so sick at heart that he almost leaves without his shower. Almost.

Kent is awake when Jeff comes out of the bathroom, damp and clean. The contracts are stacked up, not gone. Kent is sitting upright on the sofa, rubbing his eyes.

“Good offers?” Jeff asks, like a jackass, because if Kent hasn’t ever mentioned it before then it’s obviously not something he wanted to discuss.

Kent sighs, sounding exhausted, and shrugs. “Bunch of zeroes. No-trade clauses, two- and three-year deals. So. Objectively, sure.”

Jesus. That’s the real deal. “Are you going to sign?”

Kent sighs again. “I don’t fucking know, Jeff.”

That’s not a “no.”

Jeff leaves and doesn’t bring it up again. He doesn’t mention it to the guys, not even Mike. Kent acts like it didn’t happen, still coming to games and texting Jeff at work and dropping by Jeff’s apartment to visit the monster cat that still lives in Jeff’s bathroom. The cat has monopolized the space for almost two months, now, because Jeff is too afraid of the potential destruction to let it wander free.

“I can help you cat-proof your place, you know,” Kent offers—again—one night when he comes over. He’s crammed into the bathroom with Jeff and the cat. Somehow, Kent has managed to entrance the cat with just a shoelace, dangling it and pulling it along the tiles and laughing when the cat tries and fails to pounce on it. “You can’t keep him in your bathroom forever. Have you even named him?”

Jeff calls the cat “the monster” or “Monster,” but Kent continues to insist that Jeff pick something better. Kent also brings new cat toys and treats every week, like the animal is a nephew he’s trying to spoil. Jeff has repeatedly asked Kent if he wants to keep the cat, but Kent keeps saying no. Jeff gets the impression that Kent expects him to keep Monster, so Kent can continue to dote on it.

Honestly, Jeff has thought about it. But he keeps coming to the conclusion that it’s not in the cards. He likes his life how it is and he doesn’t want the complication. So he says, “It doesn’t matter what I name him. The new owner will probably change it. I’ve got someone at the office who’s seen pics and she says she’s interested.”

Kent goes still. “Wait, you’re seriously giving him away?”

Jeff internally squirms under Kent’s wide-eyed look of betrayal, turning his gaze to Monster instead. “I’m not a cat person, Parse, I told you. It was okay playing the good Samaritan for a bit, but this isn’t me. I can’t see myself having a cat long-term.”

“Oh.” Kent is quiet for a long moment. Monster jumps on the shoelace and tugs it away; Kent doesn’t resist. “I guess you should do what’s best for you.”

“That’s all it is, Parse. I’m just not a cat person.”

Soon after that conversation, Kent leaves. He smiles as he goes, acting casual, but there’s a shadow in his eyes like something’s gone wrong. And, look, Jeff doesn’t always catch on quick, but he’s not an idiot. Even if he’s not sure what specific sentence was the wrong one, he knows he fucked up somehow. Rather than go upstairs and ask Kent to clarify, however, he just curses himself and kicks his door. Again. It’s becoming a pattern.

Why is he such a coward when it comes to Kent? Even back when Kent was a noisy menace, the only time Jeff didn’t go upstairs to confront him about it was the one time it had sounded like Kent really needed company. Now that he knows Kent personally, would he do differently? He hopes so. But, god—he also never pegged himself as a guy who’d avoid so many important conversations just because he was afraid of the outcome, even a potentially good one. He’d always thought that if he ever cared about someone like he cares about Kent, he’d bare his heart and put it all on the line.

He never expected to find himself approaching Valentine’s Day wondering if Kent was already finding someone else.

It’s desperation for reassurance, not courage, that makes him text Kent about coming over for pizza and beer.

“Dude, about time you had me over again,” Kent says when he arrives.

Jeff rolls his eyes and waves him in. “The fuck do you mean ‘about time,’ you’ve been over here doting on the cat every day.”

“Your cat is better looking, is why,” Kent replies. He heads for the sofa, only to stop short when he sees Monster curled up on it.

“Oh, yeah,” Jeff says. “My co-worker is picking him up tomorrow. I thought I’d give him a night to live it up before he moves out. How much damage can he do, right?”

Kent snorts. The look on his face is one of jumbled emotions, confusion and fondness and resignation.

“You can move him,” Jeff says. “He’s pretty chill suddenly, doesn’t really care if you pick him up or touch his feet and shit. Which is a goddamn turnaround, considering how nuts he always acted in the bathroom.”

“He just needed to feel at home, that’s all.” Kent crouches by Monster and pets him until he purrs and shows his belly. “Nobody feels at home in just a bathroom.”

Jeff feels awkward and he’s not sure why. “You know you could still keep him, if you really wanted. I’ll tell my co-worker there was a change of plans. She’ll understand.” She won’t. But Jeff would face Sarah’s sour disappointment for a year if it meant keeping Kent happy.

Except the offer just makes Kent look more unhappy. “No, it’s—fine. You promised.” Kent sits on the sofa arm, still petting Monster. “Come on, gimme pizza.”

Kent acts normally from then on, talking shit through the movie and criticizing Jeff’s choice in beer. But there’s a sadness weighing on him that comes out in the silences, and makes his fingers drift to Monster’s fur whenever he’s lost in thought. Monster attaches himself to Kent, nuzzling and purring, like he thinks Kent needs it.

Jeff hates it because it feels like his fault. Which it can’t be, because if Kent won’t keep the cat and Jeff can’t, there’s nothing else to fucking do.

The night concludes as it always does, with Kent smiling and giving him a half-hug before going home, and Jeff still sitting on a crush that he hasn’t yet dared to air out. In the living room, Monster is stalking the empty pizza boxes. When Jeff walks over and shoos him away from a stray piece of crust, Monster meows indignantly.

“You’re a weird-ass cat, you know that?” Jeff grumbles, and wiggles the boxes until Monster hops out.

Jeff crosses his fingers for no overnight disasters and goes to bed early. He wakes up on Sunday morning to find Monster sprawled out on his bed, whiskers twitching in his sleep. Jeff stares for a while. Monster still isn’t a beauty; he’s got half an ear on one side, almost no tail, and even without his balls he has a throaty, tomcat yowl. All of these disclaimers were made clear to Sarah before she agreed to take him. Jeff supposes that if you’re into cats, the little imperfections don’t matter.

Monster blinks awake and sees Jeff already looking. Without prompt, Monster starts to purr.

“You’re a terrible cat,” Jeff tells him. “I can’t wait until you’re gone and I can have my own life again.”

Monster closes his eyes and purrs louder.

“Shut up.” Jeff gets out of bed. Monster, sensing breakfast, follows. Once there’s food in front of Monster, Jeff escapes to his bathroom. He gets his towel and clothes and is halfway out his door before he remembers that he doesn’t need Kent’s shower anymore.

Well. That’s how it should be.

So he goes back to his bathroom and gets in his own shower for the first time in over a month. It feels strange. Kent’s shower setup had been the apartment’s standard, but Jeff’s is custom, and it’s like he’s completely forgotten how to use his own showerhead. He keeps twisting the knobs wrong, and twice he misplaces his shampoo. When he gets out, he shaves over the sink and frowns at himself in the mirror.

He takes Monster—and all of Monster’s accumulated shit—to his co-worker’s house that afternoon. Sarah takes Monster out of his carrier right away and coos over him. Monster squirms.

“He needs time getting used to new places,” Jeff says. “And new people.” Even as he says it, it doesn’t feel true. Monster had settled into Jeff’s bathroom and then his apartment in no time flat. And although Monster had been a matted, parasite-infested wreck when he first met Kent, he’d done nothing but knead and purr.

Sarah closes the door behind Jeff and puts Monster down. Monster slinks up to the first bit of furniture he can find—a bookshelf—and cautiously sniffs it. “We’ll make it work,” Sarah says.

Jeff nods. “Just leave him alone and keep feeding him, he loves food. He doesn’t care what happens as long as there’s food in front of him. Oh, and play with him. He’s got a ton of cat toys, courtesy of my neighbor, although for some reason he likes dumb stuff like shoelaces and towels.”

Sarah gives him a look. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep him? You sound attached.”

Jeff watches Monster take a slow swat at a book and ignores the tightness in his chest. “I’m not a cat person.”

Sarah nods. “Well, okay. Do you want to come into the kitchen, have a drink? I’ve got coke, coffee, or I can make tea. Give you a little more time to say goodbye to your cat?”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

And just like that, Jeff is out the front door and back in his car, driving home. Alone.

–

Without Monster around, Kent has no concrete reason to drop by all the time, so he mostly stops. They don’t drift apart—they keep texting, and sometimes bump into each other in the elevator. But Jeff doesn’t fool himself; it’s not the same. He spends the next week feeling like there’s a hole in his life, and he’s self-aware enough to know that the hole is Kent-shaped. Their conversations aren’t as frequent and lack the spark they used to.

At the next hockey game, Kent doesn’t make a beeline for him the second he steps on the ice. There’s a scout waiting for Kent when the game is done, and he spends a long time talking with the guy—the longest he’s talked with any of them yet. He’s actually late to arrive at the bar, and when he takes a seat on the other end of the table from Jeff, it feels on purpose, not by chance.

Jeff is starting to feel like he gave away Kent along with Monster.

Are you mad at me? he sends from his work desk on Thursday, when he should be typing up a report. ‘Cause I didn’t keep the cat?

Kent’s reply comes instantly. And keeps coming.

Kent: what?! no!! of course not. i guess i just miss him. i got used to him being around but i’m not mad at YOU for not keeping him. its your life. and i really believe you should only get a pet if ur 110% committed. you shouldn’t make a commitment if you’re not able to, u know?

Me: Exactly. I just want what’s best for Monster.

Kent: i know. i’m never gonna be mad at u for doing what u gotta do, k? i’ll get over it.

Jeff should put his phone down and get back to work. But he feels like they’re finally communicating after almost two weeks of being lukewarm, and he’ll be hard-pressed to find this level of openness again. So he sends,

Me: You know you’re my best friend, right?

Kent’s icon shows that he’s typing for a long time; either preparing to send a wall of text, or second-guessing himself dozens of times. Neither bodes well.

Kent: i didn’t, actually. but ur mine, too.

Fuck, Jeff will die happy just from this.

Me: Right. So I want you to know that you’ll still be my best friend if you play in the NHL. Or the AHL. Or if you move to Russia and join the KHL. Or turn them all down and play in the beer league the rest of your life. You’re my best friend and nothing changes that.

Another long pause.

Kent: thanks, man.

It’s not much, but Jeff smiles in relief, anyway.

–

On Friday, as Jeff is getting ready to leave work, Sarah comes up to him. She’s been showing Jeff and everyone else in the office photos of Monster—re-named Stuart—since the day she brought him home. Jeff expects more of the same today, and mentally prepares an excuse to leave after viewing no more than five pictures.

He’s confused when, instead of pulling out her phone, Sarah asks, “Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“No?” Jeff replies, then freezes when he remembers that tomorrow is February 14th, Valentine’s Day. Awkwardly, he says, “I’m, uh, flattered, but—”

“What?” Sarah blinks, and then her eyes go wide. “Oh—god, no! Jeff, I have a girlfriend.”

“…Oh.” Jeff takes a moment to mentally re-evaluate everything he knows about Sarah. He feels stupid for assuming that the woman in all her photos was her sister.

“Yeah,” Sarah says, like she can hear what he’s thinking. “Which is why—god, I feel terrible about this, but I can’t keep Stuart. My girlfriend is allergic. I mean really allergic.” She sighs. “We knew she had allergies, but they’ve never been so bad. She can’t come over to my place at all.”

“Oh,” Jeff repeats. “I can, uh, pick him up this evening? If you want?”

Sarah looks relieved enough that she might hug him. “Thank you so much. I’m so sorry. You were right, Stuart is a sweetheart once he warms up to you, and Jenna and I love him so much. But… well, we’d really rather just get a hypoallergenic cat than install special filters all over the house and do laundry three times a week.”

Although Jeff has never had allergy issues, he finds it easy to relate to the problem of Monster giving him too much housework. “It’s fine. I was gonna leave now, but I can hang back until you’re done.”

“Thanks so much. I’ve just got to send a couple of emails and I’ll be ready to head out.”

It’s dark when they get to the parking lot. Jeff follows Sarah’s car to her house, and comes inside with her to collect all of Monster’s belongings. Monster comes right up to him and rubs against Jeff’s shins, purring and meowing.

“Aww, he missed you.”

Jeff can feel himself blushing a little, so he just shrugs and stoops to pat Monster’s head. Monster yowls and pushes his face into Jeff’s fingers. “Yeah, yeah,” Jeff mutters while Sarah stuffs the last of Monster’s toys into a bag, and then to Monster he says, “Apocalyptic allergies, huh? Nice to see you can make a nuisance of yourself wherever you go.”

Monster is noisy on the drive home, in the elevator up to Jeff’s apartment, and then even after Jeff has brought him inside and let him out. Monster prances around rubbing against all the furniture.

Jeff drops the bag of toys next to the sofa and sinks onto the cushions. Monster trots in from the next room and hops up next to him, climbing onto Jeff’s lap and meowing at him. Jeff gets a face-full of fish-scented cat breath and coughs. “I was nearly free of you,” he complains, and submits to Monster’s demands by scratching his chin. “I don’t have anyone else lined up to take you.” He thinks for a minute. “We could put up flyers, maybe. Free cat to good home. Facebook, too, I’ve got a ton of friends all over the country who are suckers for cats.”

Monster closes his eyes and settles down on Jeff’s lap while Jeff keeps scratching his chin. The warmth and weight of Monster is kind of nice, Jeff decides. And waking up to Monster that one morning was the least lonely he’s felt at five a.m. in…well, a while.

“One of the guys might take you,” he continues, still brainstorming aloud. “Cash’s kids have been bugging him for a pet. You’d be good with kids, right? You’re chill. And you don’t have much of a tail to pull or step on.”

Monster begins to purr. It’s a deep, guttural rumble that seems to seep into Jeff’s bones.

“Oh, Christ, stop. I’m not keeping you, you goddamn noisy, ugly cat. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve been from start to finish? You destroyed my bathroom. You’d probably destroy my apartment. And you’re expensive, fuck, I’ve dropped so much cash on you. You had parasites, remember? Then the surgery for your tail, plus your balls, and if I keep you, I just know Parser is gonna talk me into microchipping you ‘cause he’s paranoid like that.”

He sighs, his fingers slowing. Monster tucks his face into his paws, so Jeff strokes his fur instead. Monster keeps purring. “I hate you, Monster. So much.”

He can’t fucking believe he’s considering this.

–

The next morning, Jeff wakes up to Monster curled up at his side.

“Manipulative little shit,” he accuses, to which Monster mumble-meows and bats at Jeff’s face until he gets up.

Jeff feeds Monster in the kitchen. While Monster noisily eats a can of soggy Friskies cat food, Jeff starts the coffee pot and contemplates…everything. Last night he’d gone to bed without making a firm decision about Monster. In the cold darkness of the morning, he doesn’t feel any surer. He’s still not a cat person. The whole experience of feeling outrageously sentimental about a pet is still something he can’t fully relate to. Even Monster, with his soft fur and adoring slow-blinks and motorboat purr, is still an alien entity whom Jeff regards with more confusion than unconditional love.

But as he watches Monster chomp down a fat piece of tuna, Jeff has to admit that he has grown attached.

He can’t fucking believe he’s resigning himself to this.

Kent will be ecstatic.

Kent also might sign an NHL contract and move across the country, rarely seen again, and it won’t matter that Jeff has finally given in and adopted Kent’s favorite ratty cat. Anything Jeff could have said, anything he might have wanted, will be lost in the face of Kent’s new whirlwind career.

A man can only be a coward for so long.

Fuck it, Jeff decides. If he can’t find the courage to do this shit on Valentine’s Day at the ass-crack of dawn when he has just decided to keep an utter wreck of a stray cat, he never will.

He puts on his fuzziest slippers and warmest sweatshirt and ventures upstairs. With his heart pounding in his chest, he knocks on Kent’s door.

Eventually, it opens. “Fuck, Jeff, it’s like six o’clock,” Kent complains when he answers. He’s wearing sweatpants and no shirt and he’s got terrible bedhead, plus a couple creases in his face from his pillow. He looks like he has every morning that Jeff has snuck by him sleeping in bed.

By now, Jeff’s urge to wrap himself around Kent and bury his face in Kent’s neck is mostly under control. “Just let me say this before I chicken out,” Jeff replies, and that gets him Kent’s attention. He takes a fortifying breath and says, “I like you.” Not the most eloquent, but in his defense, he hasn’t had coffee yet.

Kent blinks. He definitely hasn’t had coffee yet, either. “I like you, too?”

“No, Parser, I like you. Do you remember when I first brought Monster back from the vet, and we were sitting in my bathroom brushing him and I said that I sucked at animals, and you said it was a good thing I’m cute? I’ve been thinking about that non-stop ever since.”

Kent blinks again. “That was two months ago.”

“I know. But I’ve been thinking about it because it was the first time I really chickened out of being honest with you. Because you’re my best friend, and I don’t have best friends, so I can’t fuck this up with you. But I’ve also got a cat downstairs that I am apparently fucking keeping now, so if I can do that insane shit, I can do this insane shit.”

Kent’s eyes widen. “You’ve got—Monster?”

“Sarah, my co-worker, her girlfriend has massive allergies, so she asked me to take Monster back. I picked him up yesterday. I figure I’ll just keep him. Look, I’m sorry it’s so fucking early and I’m sorry it’s Valentine’s Day, I’m not trying to be a cliché, it’s just that I’ve been wanting to kiss you since Christmas and I kept chickening out—and for Christ’s sake, why are you always half naked? You wear shirts to bed, I’ve seen you.”

Kent’s sliver of a smile is halfway between amused and incredulous. “You’re getting off topic.”

“Not if you’re this sexy on purpose.”

“You’re really keeping Monster?”

That doesn’t answer Jeff’s totally legitimate question at all—because it is still the middle of February and damn cold. But Jeff nods seriously. “Yeah. Might as well. I’m already two months committed, what’s another ten years?”

Kent shakes his head, grins, and steps in close enough that Jeff can smell the faint remains of his body wash. It’s citrusy, familiar, and intoxicating. “I actually did take my shirt off a couple times when I saw it was you. Not always. But you always got so red, I figured it couldn’t hurt to throw you off your game.”

“I knew it—” is all Jeff gets out before Kent kisses him. It’s careful and hesitant, just the barest brush of lips in hopeful inquiry. Jeff pushes back a little to make it firm, more sure, and smiles against Kent’s mouth when Kent hums in relief. It’s good to know he’s not the only one who’s afraid of a kiss fucking everything up.

When they part, Jeff says, “Just ‘cause I’m not a cat person doesn’t mean I can’t date one.”

Kent has his hands on Jeff’s hips and he squeezes gently. “Looks like you’re a cat person now, too.”

“No, I’m not. I have a cat, Parse, I’m not a cat person.”

“Semantics.”

“Do you wanna come downstairs and see my new awful cat, or not?”

Kent’s grin widens and he wraps his arms around Jeff’s waist. It eliminates the last few breaths of distance between them and makes Jeff gulp. The visual of Kent half-naked didn’t at all prepare him for the feel of it. “Yeah,” Kent says. His smile is like the sun. “Lead the way.”

#parswoops #savvy writes #it's late and i'm tired #the cat is asleep next to me #PLEASE let me know if there are awful mistakes #i'm too tired to see them #omgcp #kent parson #troyson #swoops #jeff troy #omgcp fic #omgcp fanfic

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