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sharpfamily · 10 months

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Per Aspera Ad Astra

Happy Birthday to our favourite ex-auror potions professor! Three birthdays in the life of Aesop Sharp, brought to you by@tea-withjamandbread and @aesopsharpmybeloved. Part of collections A New Chance at Life as well as The Sharp Family Chronicles. Aesop Sharp x (adult) MC!reader

word count: 9.4 k

tw: mentions of alcohol abuse, depression, suggestive content, tooth-rotting fluff

July 1st 1881

It’s been a few days since he’s been released from St Mungo’s. Again. Dinah still had a few more days to attend to her responsibilities in Hogwarts, however, for the time being, she seemed to trust Aesop not to do anything too crazy until the term officially ended. Aesop soon discovered that all of his liquor bottles, both empty and full, had disappeared. Wonderful. There was not a single drop of alcohol left in his house. At first he felt annoyed. Irritated. Already trying to think of a way to get at least a single drink, just a little something to take the edge off.

He didn’t have an owl, and he couldn’t exactly Floo, much less walk to some shop or pub. Not in his current state. Wiggenweld potion could only do so much, and while it did heal the smaller cuts and scrapes and helped with the pain, his hands were still bandaged in order to keep the healing balm applied to them from drying up while it restored his mangled hands. If he didn’t look miserable before his breakdown, he absolutely looked miserable now.

There was no way he could go anywhere like this… and there was no way anyone would be willing to bring him anything either. Aesop didn’t know how many people knew about his collapse - he was certain Dinah would make sure the number was minimal - but he was absolutely certain his mother knew. Abraham too, possibly. And the very thought of flooiong one of his (now former) colleagues to ask them to send him a drink? He shuddered. No. They’d ask questions. They’d possibly come over. They couldn’t see him like this.

Dinah was right. As she usually was, of course. He probably should lay off the booze for a while. Aesop wheeled himself throughout the downstairs of his childhood home. The mirror in the ground floor bathroom was left nothing more than a frame - Dinah probably vanished all of the broken glass. As he slowly rode through his kitchen, a picture frame caught his eye. In it was a photograph, and Aesop almost couldn't recognise his own face in it.

He didn’t even know why Ashley would get a camera - probably to take photos of her son, first and foremost - but she had brought it to his birthday dinner last year. She wasn’t a particularly good photographer, but a few nice shots were taken that night a year ago. This was one of them - he was standing by the bar in the Leaky Cauldron, actually looking quite handsome and very confident, Dinah next to him and Abraham on the other side. The photograph was moving like they were moving back then - grinning, laughing, clinking their glasses together.

And then, suddenly, Ashley appeared, peeking out from the corner of the photo, wanting to be in the picture while taking it. She looked like she always did - carefree, optimistic, confident. Her wild streak has lowered somewhat since she and her wife got their little boy, but she was still the kind of person who walked into the room and lit it up with her mere presence.

He wheeled over to the photograph and placed it face down on the shelf where it stood. He couldn’t look at it anymore. Those happy memories had been his reality only a year ago. To him, though, it felt like a century had passed. The man whose birthday was being celebrated in that photograph was someone else. A happy man with his whole life ahead of him. A man with a successful career, who still struggled with his love life to be certain, but who hadn’t given up on his dream of settling down and raising a family in the home in which he himself had spent his entire life.

A family? He wasn’t sure he could even… Not that anyone would ever want that from him anymore. Who could see him as any more than the cripple that he was. That dream of having a family of his own died the moment he stepped on to that godforsaken ship. It had vanished the very moment he had led his partner, his oldest friend, the one he was supposed to protect, to her death. His hubris having cost her all of her dreams and plans as well.

He decided that the birthday captured in the photograph Ashley had taken would be the last one he celebrated. He would have more birthdays, of course, Dinah having knocked some sense into him after his breakdown. He had already been the cause of enough pain and suffering for those he cared about the most. So he would make a point to survive, to continue existing, for them, but he saw no need to boast about having circled the sun one more time. Not when his partner hadn’t circled it with him.

Suddenly he heard the door open. He wasn't expecting company, in fact he had specifically requested that no one visit him today. He didn't want to worry anyone but he also didn't want to face their feeble attempts at cheering him up, at making him feel special on the anniversary of his birth. He didn't want to see the sadness and pity in their eyes. They did their best to hide it, of course, but he knew it was there. He was a pitiful sight indeed. He wheeled himself around as fast as he could manage and drew his wand, not that it would do him much good in his current state, the bandages on his hands making his grip awkward. If it came to it, he didn't know if he'd even be able to defend himself and his home in the event of an unsavory intruder.

He recognized the footsteps instantly and pocketed his wand.

Of course she'd show up anyways. The nerve.

Dinah bloody Hecat.

He heard the door close and wheeled himself to greet his guest. He'd at least give her that courtesy. When the younger, now older looking woman appeared in his line of sight, he saw she had come armed with a large bag of groceries. She looked at him.

"You look like hell."

"Lovely to see you too."

Dinah walked right past him, heading straight for the kitchen. Aesop thought she might have walked straight into him if he hadn’t quickly wheeled himself backwards. He supposed he still retained some of his Auror reflexes even after everything.

Dinah set down her bag and started unloading everything, pulling out potatoes, carrots, parsnips, various herbs, a jar of broth, some dried mushrooms and a large piece of meat out of the bag. Aesop knew instantly that she had come here on someone else’s errand. She had never been much of a cook herself after all. Aesop however, recognized his mother’s venison stew when he saw it, even in its currently disassembled state.

“Mum sent you, didn’t she."

It wasn't a question.

“She’s worried about you, Aesop. Especially today of all days”

“There’s nothing special about today. It’s just… a day”

“It’s your birthday, Aesop”

“Why does that even ma-“

Dinah dind't give him the time to finish, fixing him with a stare so intense, he had to stifle a tremble.

“It matters because 34 years ago your mother labored for about the same number of hours in order to bring you into this world. She then raised you along with your father until he was gone. Then she somehow found the strength to raise you AND provide for you by herself while grieving her own husband. It matters because she made sure you had everything you needed for your education, because she saw you through your Auror training AND career and earlier this year, she thought she’d be laying you to rest next to her husband instead of the other way around. So today, on the anniversary of your birth, even though YOU don’t want to see her, she STILL wanted to make sure you got to eat your favorite meal, so I am here, Aesop Theodore Sharp, on HER errand and I WILL see this through, even if I have to bind you to that infernal chair of yours and force feed you myself.”

Aesop pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew his mother deserved better than the worry he had put her through not just this year, but during his entire career as an Auror. And as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that Dinah could, and would follow through with her threat. Hell, the woman could have taken him down at his peak, let alone the sorry state he currently found himself in.

"Dinah-"

"As I was saying, I'm not here to celebrate. I’m here to make sure you don't starve to death. Also this house needs tidying up… you know I'm always afraid of tripping over something or another when I visit you nowadays. My balance isn't the worst for someone my…well for someone with the body I have, but it's not getting any better"

It was easy for Aesop to forget that Dinah, while exhibiting a strong facade and with her fierce personality, still hadn’t fully made peace with her own career-ending injury. Although she had remade herself as Hogwarts’ Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, he knew this was not her first choice. He would have to remake himself in due time, the pension he received from the Ministry barely covering his living expenses, but he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet at least.

Dinah busied herself browning the meat for the stew when she addressed her friend once more.

"You need to bathe, Aesop, you smell quite terrible."

"I… it's been a few days."

"I can tell. Do you need my help or can you manage on your own?"

"I think I can manage."

“Good."

Aesop wheeled himself to his bedroom where he carefully got undressed and discarded his clothes in the now overflowing laundry bin. Well, it wasn’t exactly his bedroom, the room had originally served as a study, however, following his injury, ascending the flight of stairs that led to his bedroom was no longer an option, so his mother had conjured a bed and had attempted to make the room as cozy as she could. He appreciated her efforts, but it just wasn’t the same. Nothing was, come to think about it.

With a towel around his body for some semblance of privacy, he slowly made his way to the bathroom and took the bandages off his hands. They looked a little better today, but he would still need to reapply that healing balm for another week according to the Healers at St Mungo’s. He sat on the bench that had been conjured in the shower and turned the water on. He carefully went through the now considerably lengthy ritual of lathering his hair and body, being careful not to irritate his hands too much.

The scars on his leg and face used to be excruciating, however the passage of time as well as rigorous desensitization as part of his shower routine had made them almost painless to the touch. If only his blasted leg would have improved in the same manner he’d maybe have a shot at a fulfilling life. However, he had been told to get used to it, to “learn to live” with his injury. He could never get used to this. He would never get used to it. Perhaps there was something out there that could help him.

He put those thoughts aside and shut the water off, dried himself and opened the door leading to his hopefully temporary bedroom. He instantly noticed that the windows had been opened, a warm summer breeze gently blowing in the large bedroom. His bed had been made, the overflowing laundry bin had been emptied and there were clean, comfortable clothes laid out on his bed, next to the armchair he sat on while getting dressed.

That woman truly was incorrigible. As he got dressed though, he realized how nice it felt to breathe the fresh summer air that was cleansing the room, as opposed to the stale air he had been inhaling ever since he had been discharged from St Mungo’s. He hadn’t been opening the windows at night like he used to before his injury. In that moment, he remembered how much he enjoyed it, though. Tonight he’d make a point to open his bedroom windows before turning in. He also realized how his shower, how the simple turned not-so-simple act of washing his body had put him in a slightly better mood. He applied the healing balm to his hands and bandaged them before making his way towards the door.

As Aesop left his bedroom, he could already smell the stew Dinah had prepared, which had just started to simmer. He could also smell the freshly brewed tea she had prepared. As he approached her, seated at the dining room table, the chair that would normally be next to her having been vanished in what he assumed was an invitation to join her, he noticed she had already poured them both a cup, and that she was currently poring over his mail, which had accumulated over the past week. He hadn’t bothered to sort through any of it since returning home.

“Still only cream in your tea?”

“Of course”

Dinah handed him his cup as well as a pile of letters

“These require your immediate attention”

“I’ll… make sure I deal with them, then”

Dinah handed him a quill, barely looking up from her organizing.

“No time like the present, Aesop.”

Aesop took the quill without argument and started filling out the various forms Dinah had given him. Applications for additional disability pay from the Ministry, tax forms, appeal letters to send to the Ministry requesting they cover the various experimental treatments he had received to attempt to heal his injury sustained in the line of duty. Once in awhile Dinah added a form or two to his workload, while sorting out the mail she deemed as rubbish.

“This one appears to be an offer letter fo work for the Auror recruitment program”

“They told me to 'take all the time I need' but they’re really hoping I don’t need time at all don’t they. That I’ll just bounce back, so to speak.”

“It would appear so”

Aesop sighed. “I’m not ready, Dinah. I can barely take care of myself at the moment. I can barely even walk from here to the front door of my own house. How could I-”

Dinah placed her hand on his

“You don’t have to accept the position right now, Aesop. I read the letter and they appear willing to wait for you to recover more before you’d-”

“I’m not sure I even want that job. I don’t think it would be right for me to take it”

“You can think about it later. For now, let’s get us some fresh air.”

Dinah stood up and made her way towards the side door, past the kitchen, where the stew she had prepared was still simmering. Aesop followed her outside. She sat on the stone bench closest to the house, overlooking the now quite unkempt garden. Aesop wheeled himself right next to her, a difficult feat on the uneven terrain. He really ought to get walking again, lest he spend the rest of his life confined to his house. They sat in comfortable silence.

“That stew does smell delicious. You did a great job.”

“Well, your mother was very clear in her instructions. All I did was follow.”

“You did so much more than that.”

“I know you’d have done the same for me. You did, in fact, if I remember correctly.” Aesop had been there for her when Dinah had been wounded on the job. He had been there at the hospital, and had helped her tremendously when she moved back to her home. He had even offered for her to move back in with him. They were no longer romantically involved, but he had still been ready to put his life and plans on pause to help her in any way he could. She had declined his kind offer but appreciated it nonetheless.

“Yes, well… that’s what friends are for, I suppose.”

They had been through so much together. A failed romantic relationship turned friendship for the ages. They had each seen each other at their worst and would eventually make peace with their respective situations, and see themselves at their best once more. For now, though, the present moment was all that existed.

"You know, you told me I'd hate you come September… you're going to try a lot harder to get me to that point."

"Term just ended. I have plenty more time now to be a thorn in your side."

Aesop chuckled, perhaps for the first time in a long time

"Thank you for being here today."

July 1st 1893

The last week of school flew by in front of Aesop’s eyes. Exams were done, and both teachers and students could breathe a sigh of relief. He had helped his sweetheart settle into the little house she rented at the edge of Hogsmeade throughout the last few days, her various books and tomes, the majority of her clothes, the little knick knacks and memorabilia she collected during her three years at Hogwarts.

And, of course, the beasts. Some would be released back into the wild, as the poachers throughout the Highlands severely lessened in numbers, following this insane (former) Ravenclaw student crashing into their operations. A few more vulnerable ones would be found new homes, as would be the girl’s new apprenticeship at Brood and Peck, and some she simply wished to keep and care for herself. With Aesop’s help, they transfigured the inside of a large chest into something of a Sanctuary for the beasts his love would be keeping. Deek aided in their relocation, having a hard time saying goodbye to them. (F/N) had promised the elf he was welcome to visit them whenever he wanted.

The Seventh year’s ball rolled around, then graduation, then the teary-eyed departure of most of the students on the Hogwarts express. Aesop wouldn’t admit it, but he too had shed a few tears all those years ago, when he boarded that train for the last time.

Today, however, was not a day for tears. It was Saturday, which meant his sweetheart had two more days to settle in and get her bearings before officially beginning her adult life and her new job. She usually woke up before him, but it seemed the turbulent few days left the young woman in a state of exhaustion. It was the first time she spent the night in her new abode, and Aesop graciously agreed to help her find out if the bed was any good.

Well, it definitely wasn’t as good as the bed he slept in at Hogwarts, nor the one in his own house, being softer than he was used to. However, he noted that his back wasn’t troubling him upon waking up, which was a small victory. Much bigger victory currently craddled in his arms. His beautiful young lover was curled into his side, her breathing soft and even, her hair matted and messy with sleep, and a bit of drool was dried upon her jowl. The potions master thought she looked like a dream come true.

He took in his surroundings, the room was unfamiliar and had yet to be lived in, but it had every bit the potential to become a very cozy bedroom. The floors were straight and firm, the wallpapers pleasant to the eyes, the windows let in a lot of natural light. Speaking of the windows, they were currently open to let the fresh summer morning air in, and Aesop could hear the wizarding village waking up and coming to life. In a few hours, the streets would be filled with people enjoying what was looking to be a sunny Saturday. Aesop closed his eyes again with a content little hum, burrowing further into the light smooth sheets and his sweetheart’s arms.

It all still felt rather surreal, really. Every single night he went to bed with the lovely Ravenclaw, he expected to wake alone and realize it's all been nothing but a dream. And while he did wake up alone on quite a few mornings, it took only a few seconds for him to know that it certainly hadn't been a dream. There was the faint floral scent of his lover's perfume clinging to his sheets, to his pillows, to him. It was all around him in this intoxicating vapor, mingling with the cool air around him. There was sometimes a note, carefully folded upon one of the seats of the large leather sofa, directly in his field of view from the bed. There was the absence of the shirt he wore the previous day…

Even now, when she was resting in his arms, soft, warm and absolutely real, Aesop bit into his bottom lip to make sure it wasn't a dream. He was startled then, as a sudden loud sound came from outside, followed by some more commotion and the frustrated voice of Zonko's shopkeeper. Probably a firework gone haywire. The young girl stirred against him, groaning quietly.

"Good morning, you," Aesop said softly, a smile appearing on his face on its own accord. His beloved tilted her head and her eyes fluttered open. The first thing she saw was Aesop, and he felt his heart throb, when her own face stretched in a smile, her sleepy eyes immediately filled with love and devotion. She looked around the room then, an adorable little line between her eyebrows as she slowly began to realise she wasn't in Aesop's chambers, nor was she in her dorm.

And then it hit her. The young woman released a breathy chuckle and her legs curled around one of Aesop's own. The potions master felt her warm cheek on his collarbone, he felt her hands caress his furry torso. It was then he had a little realisation himself - his sweetheart was also making sure she wasn't dreaming. And it was this knowledge that made him drop his head back onto the pillow, his eyes closing in bliss.

“Good morning, Aesop,” she whispered before raising her head a little to place a kiss between his jaw and his chin. She released a soft sigh then, gently resting her forehead against his collarbone once more. Aesop’s heart beat loudly in his chest, and he was certain she knew it was only for her. “Merlin, it's so strange… no homework, no essays, no studying… so strange to wake up and know that I don’t have to do anything...” On her mouth was a content smile, very much reminding Aesop of a kneazle that got the cream. “Oh, yes,” he answered, voice light and teasing, “for exactly two days. Then off to work with you!” The girl snorted against his skin, and when she lifted her head again, Aesop was nearly certain she was keeping herself back from sticking out her tongue at him.

“Besides,” he continued, his large hands stroking over her sides and back, relishing at the feeling of her silky soft skin under his calloused fingertips, “don’t forget that you’re not in Hogwarts anymore. There are no house elves - you cook for yourself, clean after yourself, the full deal.” She was lazily twirling strands of his chest hair around her index finger, her face absolutely relaxed: “I can do that. I think. I can cook a little, and I tend to keep things tidy. It’s just… Well, my household spells are still a bit shabby. I think I’m going to get frustrated trying to wash the dishes using magic, and will end up just doing it by hand anyway.” Aesop chuckled, the girl atop his chest bouncing softly with the motion. “All in good time,” he said, “Rome wasn’t built in a day, and just like everything else, household spells need to be practiced in order to be perfected. I can help you with that.”

They lay in the girl’s bed, legs entwined, just enjoying the calm summer morning. “What will you be doing, by the way, now that you’ve no classes to teach and school work to grade for the next two months?” She inquired curiously. “Me? Oh, I’ll be staying in your bed every day, teasing you that you have to go to work!” the potions master grinned and promptly received a playful smack to the chest. “No, no. I still have some unfinished things at Hogwarts, not to mention my trunk’s still in my chambers, terribly unpacked, I'm afraid. There’s several teacher meetings during the summer as well. I’ll be brewing potions for the hospital wing throughout the two months so that it’s all stocked up for the following term. I'll be revising the curriculum - though I hardly ever make changes to it - and I also need to tidy up the house a bit. It does get dusty after ten months. However, that all can wait. It can definitely wait for the two free days.”

And so Aesop Sharp and (F/N)(L/N) spent the beautiful July day simply enjoying their freedom and their company. The young woman insisted on preparing their breakfast by hand, and while it was ‘just’ scrambled eggs and some toast, Aesop was certain they were the best scrambled eggs he’d ever eaten, simply because they were prepared by her and he was able to enjoy them in her company alone.

Afterwards he showed her how to properly clean the dishes with magic, starting with a single teacup. They picked up and cleaned the singular dishes back and forth, until everything was clean. A single flick of Aesop’s wand summoned a towel from a hook, which promptly began drying the dishes clean. Another flick, and the dry ones floated to their respective spaces and stored themselves. With a smile, he observed his young lover’s awed expression. “No worries,” he promised, “you’ll have perfected it before the year is done.”

They decided to go for a little stroll along the banks of the Black lake later, talking softly, basking in the sunlight. Aesop, whose entire wardrobe was still at Hogwarts, chose to only wear his trousers, shirt and waistcoat, opting to leave his jacket and overcoat behind, as it was entirely too warm to wear them. He still applied a little cooling charm on all articles of his clothing for comfort. When his sweetheart got dressed, he realised that it really had not been often he saw her out of her uniform or her adventuring ensembles. He certainly couldn’t wait to remedy that, he thought, as he observed the dress she chose for their outing. It was light, sleek and simple, and it complimented all of her curves perfectly. She saw him staring and actually twirled for him with a wink. Little minx.

Aesop offered his arm to her, and his heart squeezed tightly at the display of emotion he saw in her eyes when she immediately accepted it. They walked all the way to the spot she brought him during their late night hippogriff flight. “You know, back then I had to use all of my energy not to just turn my head and kiss you,” (F/N) laughed quietly, a small blush on her cheeks. Aesop grinned and looked towards the dark, murky water, remembering that spring night. He could almost see the memory in front of his eyes. His sweetheart skipping stones at the shore, him standing behind her, longing.

A shuffle next to him brought him out of his thoughts. The young woman was currently pulling off her summer dress, baring the skin of her legs. “What are you doing?” he asked, eyes as big as saucers. Normally, her taking off her clothes would get nothing but positive feedback from him, however, seeing as they were out in the open, in broad daylight, he very much doubted the woman had some tender fun on her mind right now. She grinned at him giddily as she finally managed to escape the fabric and folded it haphazardly. She disposed of it on the same boulder he leaned against over a year ago, her shoes already sitting on it, and, with a wink, began running towards the water, in nothing but her chemise and drawers.

“No way…” the potions master shook his head, even as the corners of his mouth began twitching. And then, with a single tiny squeal, (F/N) threw herself head first into the Black lake. He was smiling fully now, finding her youthful playfulness and unadulterated joy incredibly endearing. He walked closer to the water’s edge. His sweetheart emerged a second later, drenched from head to toe, grinning wildly. She was slightly flushed from the cold, but otherwise looked in utmost bliss.

“I hope you don’t expect me to jump in after you,” he said wryly, crossing his arms over his chest. The woman laughed with all the meriness of a child. She swam closer to the shore for a bit, so that she could stand while she pushed her wet hair out of her face: “Honestly, I was rather hoping you would, but I’m not going to force you. Although I’m telling you, you’re missing out!” And with that, she leaned back and began idly floating on her back.

Aesop looked at her form. The white chemise was clinging to her body, her skin showing through the wet material. Dropping the cooling charm he put on his clothes, he noticed just how hot the day turned. Suddenly the water seemed all the more appealing. He admired the curves of his lover’s body, his hands already itching to trace them as he unconsciously pulled at his own clothes. He knew she was watching him out of the corner of her eye, actually saw her roll her eyes a little as he conjured a small leather holster for his wand and tied it around his bony ankle and shin.

She rolled around to look at him fully when he took a step after step towards the water. Despite the hot weather, the water was cold, and it nipped at his skin, but Aesop didn’t let that stop him. Another step. The water was now at his calves, then knees, and getting higher. He winced slightly when he was half submerged, baling his hands into fists as he battled the cold. But then he saw her little smirk, the challenge still shining in her eyes. With a huff, Aesop dived under the water. The sudden shock his body experienced was quickly overcome when he saw his sweetheart’s legs underwater, kicking slowly to keep her afloat.

He grabbed her just above her knees and rose above the surface. He faintly heard her little squeal before a pair of arms wrapped around his neck and her playful eyes connected with his own. Her legs found purchase around his waist and he released them in favour of curling his own arms around her waist. He stared triumphantly into her eyes for a moment, before chasing her lips in a very wet and a little cold kiss, prompting a happy humming sound from his beloved.

Aesop was done with missing out.

It was late afternoon when they returned to (F/N)'s new abode. They spent the better part of the day by the water, swimming, playing, and simply relaxing. While his sweetheart busied herself with conjuring up a blanket for them to sit on on the bank, Aesop cast just a few protective wards around them, so that they could enjoy themselves in solitude and safety. He couldn't even remember the last time he's had a day like this. They swam, they rested on the blanket, they swam some more. It was so simple, and yet Aesop's heart was fluttering with absolute contentment. Once they dried themselves, got dressed, vanished the blanket and dropped the wards, they simply apparated back to the little house. The potions master prepared a dinner for them with magic, since they were both starving by the time they arrived.

His sweetheart watched in amazement as some of the various food items she brought over to her new home the previous day floated about, cut themselves up perfectly and arranged themselves around a small baking dish. Chicken legs with roasted vegetables it was. Within just a few seconds, their food was ready, looking amazing and smelling even better. They ate their fill in a comfortable silence until: "You know, this is spectacular, and I'd surely like to learn how to do it," she said quietly, "however, I actually quite enjoy cooking by hand." Aesop chuckled, piercing a baked potato onto his fork: "So do I. Many people do, this is just quick and convenient. And while it tastes alright, you'd be moaning at the taste was I to prepare it by hand," he spoke confidently. His young lover giggled into her food: "You can still make me moan tonight, if you want to."

Aesop very much wanted to.

Later, as they were coming down from their highs, snuggled perfectly in each other's arms, the professor took some time to reflect. He really could not remember the last time he had such an amazing birthday… he tended to even forget he had one, not having celebrated it since that fateful day twelve years ago. But today, despite his sweetheart not knowing that on this day, 45 years ago, Aesop Theodore Sharp took his first breath, she very much made him feel like the birthday boy.

He cuddled up even closer to her, his strong arms squeezing her frame, still hot from their previous activity. His lips found hers in a deep kiss and afterwards, the professor rested his forehead against her own, breathing the same air as her. "I want to thank you…" he said quietly, only for her ears to hear, "this was the best birthday I've had in years."

He could feel her body tensing immediately. "Today's your birthday?" she asked, raising her head to look at him. Her beautiful eyes were wide and filled with panic: "Why didn't you tell me? I don't- I don't even have a present for you." He quickly pulled her up for a kiss, stroking her back in a calming matter. "I haven't celebrated my birthday for a long time... And as for a present - why, you already gave it to me!" His sweetheart fixed him with a curious gaze and Aesop sighed: "To be able to hold you, kiss you, love you… this entire day was the greatest gift I could've asked for. To have your heart in my hands, that is the most precious thing I've ever been given."

The young woman sighed as well, and wrapped her delicate arms around him, nuzzling into his neck momentarily before raising her head up again, a brilliant smile on her face, a smile of love, devotion and incredible joy: "Still, we should celebrate. You deserve a day to be spoiled rotten!"

"You are already spoiling me rotten!"

"Hah, I try to, but we should still celebrate. Let me take you to the Three Broomsticks tomorrow for a meal. We can have a good bite, champagne, who knows, perhaps Sirona will be able to get us a cake!"

Aesop chuckled, his cheeks warming up somewhat. It was strange - the idea of actually celebrating his birthday after he hadn't done so for so long. However, as strange as it felt, he could already feel the pleasurable tickling of anticipation. "Alright…" he breathed then, "if you want to. But know that I would've been happy enough to just spend the day in your company."

His sweetheart fixed him with an intense gaze, her eyes sincere: "I want to. Because I finally can. We spent so much time sneaking around, I long to finally be able to show how I feel openly. I want to grab your hand in mine when we walk together, I yearn to be able to kiss and hold you whenever I wish. And I really want to celebrate that on this day, the most incredible man was born. I don't know what I'd do without you here. Perhaps I wouldn't be here myself, if you hadn't gone to the Astronomy tower that day. You are an exceptionally beautiful existence, Aesop Sharp, and your birthday should be celebrated."

The potions master swallowed heavily, willing away the tears that threatened to form in his eyes. Her confession shook him to his core, and, in that moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to hold her in his arms. Aesop truly did not think he'd ever celebrate his birthday again. Since Ashley's death, he really thought that he wasn't entitled to do so. But perhaps his sweetheart hadn't been entirely wrong. Perhaps him saving her life tipped the scales a little. If Ashley could see him now… well, she'd probably smack his shoulder very hard and tell him to pull his head out of his arse and seize the chance he's been given, like a proper Slytherin would. In that moment, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, and his breathing slowly evened out.

"Alright, my sweet," he said only, as her face once more nuzzled into his shoulder, more than content to stay there. Aesop breathed out slowly, his arms wrapping around the young woman's body in a protective manner.

The room was dark and Aesop could hear sounds of the village outside falling asleep. He could hear faint music coming from the Three Broomsticks, and he heard silent voices caught in a conversations, as their owners passed by the little house. The air smelled sweet with the sun having warmed it the entire day. Aesop closed his eyes, basking in the feeling of love, of comfort.

The next day, his sweetheart did exactly as she promised. She walked with him into the Three Broomsticks, hand in hand, looking proud and happy. She kissed him out in the open, before they even opened the door to the pub, absolutely uncaring to whoever saw them. The look she gave him afterwards… Aesop realised that she did want to do that for some time. That the fact that she was his own filled her with pride. That the young woman, who defeated a troll during the first week of her studies, willingly gave her heart to one ex-Auror potions professor. In a moment of giddy madness, Aesop grabbed her around the waist, dipped her ever so slightly, and snogged the living daylights out of her.

"Are you quite done? Your stew's getting cold," came the voice of Sirona Ryan, who was leaning against the doorframe with a mischievous look in her eyes. Aesop fixed his sweetheart with a curious look.

"I may have written to professor Hecat to ask what's your favourite food when you were still sleeping," she admitted with a shy smile, "and I also may have written to Sirona, asking her to prepare it for you, as well as get us a cake afterwards." Sirona watched the scene unfold before her eyes, a big smile on her face: "Happy birthday, Professor Sharp." "Thank you, Sirona."

It truly seemed his life was to be filled with strong-willed and strong-minded women. He was quite the lucky man.

July 1st 1908

It was morning in the Sharp household and a summer breeze gently blew through the open window of Mr and Mrs Sharp's bedroom. The gentle sound of birds chirping could be heard but didn't wake the occupants of the bedroom, currently soundly asleep in each other's arms. A sound did manage to rouse Mrs Sharp though. The pitter patter of little feet and the creaking of floorboards.

Someone was awake. Actually, judging by the sound of it, more than one of the children was on the move. She knew the children had been looking forward to surprising their father with breakfast in bed for his birthday, but she hadn't managed to piece together much more than that. She didn't know what they were planning to prepare, and thought it would probably be best if she made her way downstairs to assist or, at the very least, supervise.

As gently as she could, she tried to extricate herself from her husband's grip without waking him up. It was still early and she wanted to let him sleep for a little bit. Aesop had other plans though, having been woken by his wife's feeble attempt at leaving their shared bed.

"Where do you think you're going, darling?"

He pulled her towards him and held her close, her back completely flush against his front. She could feel his morning arousal as he kissed her neck.

"You weren't just going to leave me to wake up by myself, today of all days."

He continued gently nipping at her neck, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on her skin. With a sigh, she melted into his embrace and he took the opportunity to gently turn her on her back, moving his hands along her body and moving his kisses to her collarbones, her body semi-trapped underneath his large frame.

It had taken some number of years, but eventually (F/N) had managed to convince her husband that his birthday was a day that deserved to be celebrated, and he eventually got to enjoy being the center of attention for just this one day a year. Perhaps a little too much at times! It seemed as though he was already quite eager to unwrap his birthday present from her.

This morning, though, as much as she enjoyed the way his kisses and touch were slowly lighting her body on fire, as much as she wanted to give in and give him what he wanted, what they both wanted, she knew she needed to make her way downstairs, before their children would have the chance to set fire to the kitchen. However the feeling of her husband's very experienced hands making their way towards her more sensitive areas, the knowledge that his mouth would soon follow, was enough to make her momentarily forget about the possible disaster that she would find downstairs should she choose to indulge her husband.

"Aesop I-"

"Hmmm"

Aesop knew what he was doing. He trailed kisses down her abdomen and she knew then and there that she had lost the battle. She'd deal with the chaos later. Right now there was only one person that existed in the world and that person was about to…

CLANG!

The loud sound coming from the kitchen put an instant end to the couple's morning's activities, their arousal instantly replaced with concern. Concern for the structural integrity of their home, as well as the safety of its occupants. Aesop begrudgingly made his way back up to the head of the bed.

"I should go investigate that."

"Probably a good idea. Let's go see what the rascals are up to now."

"YOU are going to stay right here, sir, and act surprised when the children bring you whatever it is they planned on making you for your birthday breakfast. I will go downstairs and make sure we still have a house by the time they're done."

Aesop gave her a mock pout as his wife quickly got herself dressed for the morning.

"Don't worry, love. I'll make sure you get to unwrap your birthday present… after the rascals are in bed."

One quick kiss from his wife before she swiftly left the room and quietly closed the door.

Aesop heard his older son speak right outside the bedroom door, he had probably been on the way to ask for his mother's help with whatever it was the children had planned.

"Is he still asleep, Mum?"

His wife whispered

"Still sound asleep, dear."

"Brilliant!"

"Shhhhhh"

Eleazar lowered his voice

"Right. Quiet"

"Let's get downstairs"

Down they went and Aesop was left with his thoughts. He could hear the faint buzzing of his family in the kitchen, his wife no doubt deferring to their children's plans for his breakfast and letting them do as much as they were able to manage on their own. He remembered his birthday breakfast in bed from the previous year with fondness. A half burnt over-salted omelet along with biscuits (slightly undercooked), tea (weak) and a bowl of strawberries he ended up having to surrender to his 3 year old twins. It had been quite unpalatable, but seeing the pride in his children's eyes when they had told him they had cooked everything themselves had made the meal the best birthday breakfast he had ever had. He knew the children would outdo themselves this year.

He had been a father for a whole decade by now, but sometimes he still couldn't believe that the rambunctious bunch that was currently being supervised by his darling wife, those four bundles of joy and chaos, were his. That this was his life now. He had known as a young man that he wanted children and had given up on this dream at one point of his life. He had never expected though, that he could love these four little people as much as he did.

He was pulled out of his reverie by the smell of bacon. Wonderful, he thought, one can only mess up bacon so much! He knew his family would enter the bedroom any minute now to “wake him up” so Aesop laid down on his side of the bed, turned away from the door and closed his eyes. He heard the door creak open.

“He’s still sleeping”

“Shhhhh”

“Wait, no we need to wake him up!”

“I can do it!”

“Alright dear but be gentle”

“Okay Mum”

“Thedodore don’t jump on-”

Aesop felt the bed dip and braced himself for what he was sure was an incoming tackle from a rambunctious four year old.

“Hmphhh”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!”

“My birthday isn’t until next week Theodore”

The boy stood up and looked at his mother in confusion

“He’s just pulling your leg, dear”

“That’s right, I’m just” Aesop physically tugged at his son’s legs, causing him to land flat on his back on the soft bed and dissolve in a fit of giggles “messing with you!”

The former professor looked at his family. Everyone was still in their pajamas, some of his children's clothes bearing the proof of their efforts in making his breakfast, little spots of dried batter the most evident. Both his daughters' hair were still in the braids he had woven the previous evening, now with stray strands sticking out in odd directions from their slumber. Theodore obviously hadn't brushed his hair yet, while Eleazar looked as put together as he usually did, wearing a light dressing gown and bearing the least bits of Aesop's breakfast on his clothes. He caught his wife's eyes - they were shining with pride. She was, of course, completely clean, her silky dressing gown as pristine as it had been before she left the bedroom.

Four pairs of his own brown eyes stared up at him with excitement and anticipation, and Aesop felt his heart swell when he saw the perfect mix of himself and his wife in each of their beautiful children.

Maggie approached her father with a tray.

“We made you breakfast in bed!”

Aesop took a look at the tray from his daughter and from what he could see, the children HAD outdone themselves. He was right about the bacon, there were also scrambled eggs, pancakes, a lovely fruit salad, a cup of tea, and a small bowl filled with chocolate chips.

“I cooked the eggs and the bacon and I tried to flip the first pancake, but it didn’t turn out nice, so we tossed it, then Mum helped me make the second one but the one on top I did all by myself!”

“That’s wonderful Maggs.”

“And (F/N) and Theo were in charge of mixing the fruit salad and filling the chocolate chips.”

“That salad looks expertly mixed, thank you. Eleazar, what did you do to help?”

“I measured out everything for the pancake batter AND I brewed the tea. I even used the scales like you taught me!”

Eleazar spoke with great pride. Last year his father had started to teach him the basics of potionmaking and the lad had taken to the craft like a fish to water. Aesop took a sip of his tea.

“That’s some very good tea, Thank you Eleazar”

The boy beamed.

The twins each sat on one side of him and Aesop made sure to grab himself a handful of chocolate chips before the inevitable happened and he’d have to surrender the sweets to his youngest children.

“Alright, everyone, let’s let Dad eat his breakfast in peace now. Then we can all have fun. Shop’s closed today so we get to keep Dad all to ourselves for the day.”

(F/N) herded the children out of the bedroom and handed Aesop what was left of his little bowl of sweets.

“Enjoy your food, darling, I’ll get the little ones dressed then we can do whatever it is you’d like.”

She gave him a kiss before leaving the room. Aesop was pleased to find out that everything had been seasoned well this year, most likely due to Eleazar’s precise measurement of ingredients. Once his breakfast had been eaten, Aesop got dressed and did his morning hygiene before joining his family downstairs, empty tray in hand. The weather seemed nice, perhaps they could go to the beach for a picnic and a swim.

The potions master walked into the kitchen, which actually bore less signs of the breakfast preparation than his children's clothes did. No doubt his wife's prompt work with a wand. His eyes were caught by the sight of many moving photographs displayed on a shelf. Aesop stopped for a moment, looking at the pictures fondly. The photo with Ashley taken 28 years ago on this very day was proudly standing among other happy photos. There was a picture of him and his wife on their wedding day, grinning at each other, both looking incredible as well as incredibly in love. His sweetheart still looked at him this way, even 12 years after that beautiful June day, and he knew he did as well. There were the newer pictures, his children at various ages, from mere babies and toddlers, to a very recent photo of Maggie holding a very fluffy Puffskein. And then, there were some older ones, too. A moving photo of young Aesop, taken the day he got into the Auror program, looking proud and confident, as well as a single completely still photo of his dear wife, taken by a Muggle camera.

Aesop deposited the tray into the sink and with a flick of his wand, the dishes got to cleaning themselves. His wife walked towards him and put her arms around his abdomen, pressing herself against his back.

“You’re not supposed to be doing any dishes today.”

“It’s nothing, besides you already have your hands full with the children.”

“They can take care of themselves… mostly.”

Aesop turned around to face his wife. They had circled the sun many times together but she still looked as young and beautiful as the day he married her.

“I was thinking I’d like to take everyone to the coast for lunch, let the children play in the water.”

“Only the children?”

“I suppose we could also go for a dip, for old time’s sake.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

He leaned in and captured her lips in a quick kiss, before being interrupted by Maggie and Eleazar.

"Dad, how old are you turning?" Aesop decided not to volunteer that information. The former teacher in him made him want to make his children work for the answer.

"Well let's see. I was born in the year 1848 and this is the year 1908."

The children to looked at their mother "Don't look at me, you know how to subtract."

The two eldest rushed to find the nearest quill and parchment and got to work, eager to get an answer to their burning question.

Aesop let out a sigh. He was hitting a milestone today. "Oh come on, dear. If it makes you feel any better you don't look a day over fifty."

Aesop chuckled and pulled his wife close. "Thank you. It's strange, though. I don't feel old. Merlin knows I feel better now than I did for most of my thirties. My life significantly improved in my forties"

“I wonder what happened then”

“I met this incredible woman, you see, got to know her, fell in love with her, somehow she decided she’d entrust her heart to me. Sometimes I still don’t understand what she saw in an old cripple but - don’t give me that look, that’s what I was at the time - in any case, loving her was what turned my life around for the better. And now we have these incredible-”

“SIXTY!”

Both parents chuckled. “Well done, you two.” “That’s… six times as old as I am!” “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that Magdala Dinah Sharp”

Later that day, the family of six found themselves at the beach, all four children playing in the water, both older siblings keeping an eye on the younger children whose swimwear had been enchanted to keep them afloat. Aesop and (F/N) sat on a blanket basking in the sunlight and taking in the scene.

The gentle rocking of waves filled the air around with a soft fizzing sound, broken by the cries of seagulls. Aesop could hear other birds singing from somewhere behind them in the trees. The sounds of nature combined with the giddy squeals and chattering of his children was like a symphony of absolute peace in Aesop's ears. He looked at his beloved, and saw her eyes reflecting the same utter contentment that was held in his own.

A thought crossed Aesop's mind and with a mischievous smile, he whispered in his wife’s ear “I’ll bet you a kiss I can beat you to the water”

She looked at him, her smile matching his own “Hmm I don't know… I wouldn't want to make you look bad on your birthday” she teased, but standing up as to indicate she accepted his challenge "We'll see about that…" the potions master teased back

The children watched with amusement as both their parents suddenly broke into a full blown sprint towards the sea when suddenly a faint “pop” was heard and Aesop disappeared, immediately appearing in the water, a few meters behind the children.

“You cheat!”

“We never said apparition wasn’t allowed” Aesop swam over to the children who were all giggling. (F/N) finished making her way towards the water before taking a few steps in. Once she was able to, she dove in and swam over to meet the rest of the family.

“I’ll be claiming that kiss now”

“You cheated. I think that kiss is mine to claim”

“As you wish”

Aesop made his way over to his wife, gently kissed her lips before moving around her and wrapping his arms around her waist, both of them watching the children resume their play, Eleazar and Maggie having apparently decided on a little swimming race of their own as the twins tried to keep up.

“Thank you.”

“Whatever for?”

“For today. For every day we get to spend together.”

A few days from then, Aesop and (F/N) would celebrate his birthday once more, sans children, in a private room at the Three Broomsticks surrounded by their close friends. Today, though, Aesop couldn’t imagine spending the day in better company.

Years had passed since the incident that took his partner’s life and nearly took his own. Years had passed since the simple task of making it through the day appeared monumental. Years had passed since he had made the decision that another circle around the sun wasn’t something to celebrate but rather something to feel guilt over. Today however, he felt nothing but gratitude for those who had pulled him out of the abyss where he once dwelled, who had patiently walked beside him, and who had lifted him higher than he ever thought possible, so high, in fact, he swore he could touch the stars.

Fin.

@aesopsharpmybeloved: I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to read this story, and I'd especially like to thank @tea-withjamandbread who wrote with me. Being able to read the wonderful words she used and build this story (that I frankly love and will re-read many times myself) has meant so much to me and brought me a lot of joy. To everything we'll yet create together! <3 -Tess

This story is also be available on AO3. We'll be very grateful for any feedback!

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garbinge · 1 year

Text

Shoulder to cry on

Richie Jerimovich x Reader

Day 23 from these April Prompts: “Somethings aren’t replaceable”

Summary: Mikey’s funeral brings an unexpected person into your life more. Continuation of these fics: Pillow Forts and Soft Spot.

Word Count: 8.7k (i got carried away, okaaaaaay)

A/N: okay, this is probably one of my FAVORITE fics, this universe as a whole is my favorite but this specific fic just... has a special place in my heart. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Heavy angst, shit talking, cursing (lots), mentions of death, drugs, drinking, abuse, alludes to sexual situations. The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

Previous Fic: Soft Spot

Everything was moving so slow. The people, the time, the words coming out of people’s mouths. A lot of sorrys, a lot of introductions, a lot of really old people with that old people scent to them. You felt alone. In a room full of people you considered family, you felt alone. Carmy was nowhere to be found. You booked the flight for him, a cheap spirit flight, you could care less about the money wasted, you just needed to know he was alive. Not okay. Because who the fuck was going to be okay. Just alive.

You shook the 18th person’s hand, you kept count because it was the only thing keeping you awake and grounded within the moment. There was an empty seat next to Pete in the front row, but something felt off about sitting there. Sure, the Berzatto’s were family to you since you were 7, you spent more time there than your own house, the siblings were your best friends, your bullies, and your protectors. All signs pointed to your right to sit in that receiving line reserved for immediate family, but when it came down to it you weren’t a Bear. Mikey Bear. Sugar Bear. Carmy Bear. You never got that nickname, because you weren’t a Berzatto. It never mattered to you, it never even crossed your mind, that was until this moment. You felt someone’s hand on your back, shaking you lightly out of your thoughts.

The blond that the world knew as Natalie, but you knew as Sugar, was offering you a soft smile and bending down to be eye level with you as you sat at the end of the aisle in the back.

“Hey.” Your body turned to look at her, grabbing the hand that was on your shoulder into your own. Your voice was soft, like her smile.

“You know you can sit in the front row, there’s a seat next to Pete but I’ll kick him down one and you can sit right next to me.” Her hand squeezed yours. You appreciated the offer, but you weren’t sure if you could handle the extended family asking who you were. By the looks of it, that's all that was left. You had said hello to Uncle Jimmy, cousin Nicky, and Carol, and just about everyone who knew you or at least your face. The rest of everyone who showed up were people who only knew the siblings from the one baby picture they had seen from 25 years ago and you weren’t about to deal with that.

“Thanks, that means more than you know.” You rested your forehead against hers and you both closed your eyes. There was a part of you that wished you could stay in this moment forever, not think about Carmy, not think about Mikey, just be with the one sibling who showed up.

You pulled your head away when there was some commotion by the front door, some woman had burst into tears and made a scene. Sugar made a face that she quickly disguised immediately, but you had caught it. Probably someone just looking for attention, funerals tended to bring them out.

“I hate that bitch.” Sugar seethed. “I don’t even know that bitch.” She shook her head like she was shaking the thought to fall out of her mind.

You let out a little laugh at her statement, unable to hold it in and directly brought your hand to your mouth to cover it. Sugar looked at you shocked, her eyes wide and a small smile creeping onto her face as she let out a snort and followed suit by bringing her hand to her mouth.

“Fuck that bitch.” You whispered in between chuckles. That statement made her lose it but she was able to hold it in well, only a few people were looking at you two laughing in the middle of Mikey Berzatto’s funeral. He would have loved it.

The two of you took a deep breath, letting the moment naturally pass. You grabbed her hands again and squeezed. “I think I’m going to stay back here.”

There was no more explanation needed, she understood and wasn’t going to push or argue with you. Hell, you weren’t going up against the craziest competition, but you had shown up and apparently that was all it took to be on Sugar’s good side.

“Sug.” Richie’s voice alerted the both of you. She stood up and you thought this was going to go one of two ways. She was either going to slug him or ignore him. To your surprise, she did neither. In a turn of events that left you shocked, you couldn’t pry your eyes away from her embrace with Richie. I guess you were right when you thought that showing up really was the only criteria needed to be on Sugar’s good side right now.

Before you knew it, the hug was over and Sugar was back in the front of the funeral home. Richie was standing completely still, his eyes were looking at the casket, getting lost in what you were sure were memories and regret. You saw something shift in him as he looked at the casket which is when you extended your hand out to place it on his arm.

“Rich.” You whispered hoping it would get his attention. He didn’t look at you until your hand touched his arm, and that was out of instinct. “He’s not in there.” Your voice was softer than before. It was a secret that only you and maybe 3 others were in on. He had gotten cremated, but Sugar knew the family was going to have a lot to say, so they rented the casket for the viewing. It was twisted, but it was the Berzatto way.

“What?” Richie questioned in the same tone as you.

You moved over a seat and patted where you just were for Richie to sit. Without hesitation he sat down which is when you leaned your right shoulder against him and whispered again.

“Natalie got him cremated, he’s not in the casket.” For some reason, you knew it’d give him some type of relief, some type of breathing room. Once you said it, he let out a sigh, and you could tell he loosened up a bit.

“I just felt like–” He started to try and explain himself but couldn’t get the sentence out. He stuttered a couple more times when you brought your hand to rest on his leg that was shaking. Richie stopped moving the second your hand landed on his leg.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Richie. Not to me at least.” You shrugged and stared straight ahead, your hand still on his knee. “And you don’t need to stop shaking your leg either. This is all fucked up. You can be fucked up.”

You removed your hand from his leg, he frowned at the loss of heat and also as he tried to take in every word that you said.

The two of you sat there, next to each other, backs straight, hands picking at skin or nails. 45 minutes must have passed, no one else came up to either of you. Richie didn’t move, he didn’t make an attempt to go up and kneel at the casket, look at the pictures, or try and talk to anyone else. As the time passed, you thought the place would empty out, but it just got busier. I guess what Carmy had said to you was right. Everyone felt like Mikey was their best friend. While it made Carmy jealous, it made you happy. To know Mikey the way you did felt like an honor, it was also nice knowing he knew you too.

“You want a cigarette?”

Staring at Richie, you nodded your head and stood up without hesitation, he was up and out of the funeral home within seconds, you were actually trying to figure out if you ever saw Richie move so quickly before. Maybe once before, when he was scaring off your ex at the restaurant with a fuckin 22.

The two of you moved to the side of the building that had the wheelchair access ramp. It was away from most people who had congregated in the front and were arriving and leaving. There were a few scattered people here, but it was less likely someone was going to bother you. He lifted the parliament box and brought it to his mouth, taking a cigarette out with his mouth before offering the open box to you. It had been a while since you had one, so you stared at the box for half a second before grabbing the white stick in between your fingers. Richie searched his pockets for a lighter, patting down his suit jacket pocket, inside and out.

“This is why I fuckin’ hate these things, too many pockets.” He mumbled with the cig between his lips.

“Said no girl ever.” The joke mumbled back at him as he found the lighter and brought it to your cigarette first before his own.

Leaning against the wall of the parlor you both looked out into the section of woods that was just past the building. It was probably one of the few areas around you that had a large section of trees in Chicago, and large was probably an overstatement.

You felt yourself getting lightheaded as the smoke burned. You were just about halfway done when you felt yourself wobble a little, the nicotine high hitting you stronger than you expected.

“You alright?” Richie was leaning forward trying to get a look at your face.

“Yea, it’s just been like a year or something since I’ve had a smoke. The nicotine high was just getting me a little dizzy.”

He let out a laugh. “Fuckin’ amateur.”

You let out a scoff to match his laugh, “Alright, Richie. You got me beat at smoking cigarettes. You win.” Your voice had a mocking tone to it.

He enjoyed the back and forth, you could tell by the smile on his face. It was probably the only genuine smile on his face today, which you wouldn’t blame him for.

“Have you talked to Carmy?” All your thoughts came barreling down as you saw someone walk by with a blue denim hat that looked just like Carmy’s. Your heart rate was raised, and that mixed with the lightheadedness was starting to make you breathe a bit heavier.

“No, I haven’t.” Richie’s answer didn’t make you feel better. He must’ve noticed because he followed it up with a question. “I’m guessing you haven’t either?”

“No. He isn’t answering my calls or texts.” Your phone was being pulled out of your pocket so you could show him the constant texts.

You: 2:28PM yesterday Hey, I’m tracking your flight, says it’s landing in 40 minutes, I’ll be at the airport waiting for you.

You: 3:06PM yesterday Hey, I’m here, text me when you land.

You: 3:34PM yesterday It says you landed, Carm. Where are you?

You: 3:56PM yesterday Carmy. If you missed your flight it’s okay, we can get a new one, no worries.

You: 4:25PM yesterday Forget the fucking flight can you just let me know you’re alive?

You: 5:05PM yesterday Carmy.

You: 6:32PM yesterday Pulse check.

You: 7:13PM yesterday Pulse Check.

You: 8:55PM yesterday For fucks sake Carmy. PULSE CHECK.

You: 6:55AM today I’m going to assume you’re okay. But please, when you can just answer my pulse checks please.

You: 4:25PM today Thinking of you. Love you.

You were expecting Richie to give you shit for the amount of texts you sent and you were surprised when he didn’t.

“I guess that means he’s not answering calls either.” He took a big drag of his cigarette and shook his head. “What’s pulse check?”

“It’s just something we came up with when we moved out of Chicago, things got busy but it was our way of checking in making sure the other person’s okay.” You explained the reasoning behind the words. “He’s never not answered one.” The last fact was added so Richie could understand where your worry came from.

“Kid’s a mess.”

For a second, you went to defend him. Old habits die hard, you know. But then you really took in what he said it was true. Carmy was a mess. Even before this. You were still mad at him, though.

“I texted. I called. Hell, I thought to send a fucking carrier pigeon but he’d probably just kill it and call it squab de papier.” An awful french accent came out of your mouth and Richie looked at you impressed, his nostrils flaring as he blew air out of them in a half laugh before letting a real laugh out.

“That was good.” He nodded and tossed the bud to the ground and stepped on it.

“I know, I’m funny.” A frown wrinkled on your forehead and you squinted your eyes before smiling.

You both laughed again as you started leaning into one another, shoulders grazing against the other. It was what you both needed, something light to get you through the heaviness of the night and the week to come. In the middle of your laughing fit, there was a loud backfire of a car in the funeral parlor lot. It sounded like a gunshot, which wasn’t unheard of in Chicago, but considering the circumstances, it caused you to freak out for a moment.

Your fingers straight away went to grab Richie’s arm pretty tightly. Out of impulse, he stepped in front of you. Scanning the parking lot and the others around it was pretty quickly that he realized the noise was a car backfiring and not shots.

“Fuckin’ afterburn.” He looked over his shoulders to see your terrified face. It was still something new to him, you were never scared. The only other time he remembered seeing you remotely like this was that day at The Beef, with that douchebag. “C’mon, let’s go sit down before you fall over nicotine newbie.” He grabbed your arm and guided you over to the bench that was tucked away in the corner.

You never were able to shake the feeling, you two just sat there, in silence as you tried to get back to whatever you considered normal at a time like this.

“You got a ride home?”

Looking around you saw that it had gotten pretty empty, you looked at your phone for the time or maybe a text from Carmy.

“Yea I drove myself.”

Richie’s face looked like he was about to question or protest your means of transportation.

“I’ll be alright, Richie.”

“Alright well pulse check me when you’re home or whatever.”

You went to argue on the usage of the term when you looked at Richie, like really looked at him. It was genuine. He actually cared that you made it home. You simply nodded and offered him a quick wave before walking away.

_________

Time was passing slowly, and when you’re looking towards time to heal all wounds, you had to take the whole passing by leisurely thing as disrespectful as possible. The days felt long and the weeks felt even longer. It was 2 weeks to the day since Mikey’s funeral, and 3 weeks to the day since it happened. Your apartment was lonely, it always was but when your best friend was ignoring you and the guy you looked at like a big brother just killed himself, the loneliness followed you differently. You did whatever you could to pass the time. Visited Sugar and Pete, went down to the beef occasionally to see everyone, called Carmy, had 30 second conversations with him, which to be honest you cherished over the silent treatment. In addition to that, you also took on extra shifts at work, the barista position wasn’t exactly bringing in the cash but it paid the bills and the overtime put money into a rainy day fund. Plus, it was what you loved. Coffee.

It was another Tuesday night where you fell asleep on the couch. Your mattress was more of a decoration these days than an actual useful piece of furniture. The ringing of your phone turned you over, the sound was different than the normal alarm chime you were used to waking up to. As you came more to it, you realized that your alarm wasn’t going off and it was actually someone calling you.

1:14AM.

The time flashed above the unknown caller number.

“Hello?” The raspiness of your voice was hard to mask, your hand scratched at your eyes trying hard to wake yourself up. It was then that you realized you answered an unknown number at 1AM without any hesitancy.

He said your name in a way that you could hear the embarrassment in his voice. You knew who it was right away. Who would have thought that hearing Richie’s voice at 1AM would have been what woke you up entirely.

“I–uh,” You could imagine his head hanging low as he spoke to you. It was obvious why he was calling. Late night, unknown number. It didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. “I need your help.”

He sounded like a little kid, even with his age difference, he felt below you. It wasn’t really a feeling you wanted to dwell in, you didn’t like it one bit.

“I’m locked up and need you to bail me out.” The words flew together so quickly that even though, you knew what he was going to ask, it still took you a minute to process.

“CPD or Northwestern?” The keys were already being scooped up from your coffee table.

“CPD.”

“Fuck.” You mumbled as you held the phone to your ear, slipping one arm into your jacket. Chicago Police Department meant a more serious charge, it wasn’t loitering or vandalism. It was a step up from that, but you weren’t going to ask him on the police line. “I’ll be there in 20.”

With that, you hung up and quickly slid your other arm through your jacket as you ran out of your apartment.

The ATM wasn’t exactly your favorite place to be at 1:43 AM in downtown chicago, but you also didn’t want to be at CPD either. You stuffed the cash in your pocket quickly and walked into the station.

After you posted bail, Richie was out within minutes. Good thing about Tuesdays were they were generally slow nights.

The black eye he was sporting was red in irritation and starting to discolor. You assumed it had to do with his little stint in the slammer but you weren’t going to ask questions, yet.

“Thanks.” He mumbled the appreciation, still clearly embarrassed.

You nodded and got into the car, immediately turning over the ignition to get the car warm.

He stood outside the car, like he was waiting for an invite in or debating walking home.

“You thinking of freezing to death or do you want me to send you a formal invitation to get in the fuckin’ car?” You had leaned over to open the passenger door from the inside.

“I didn’t really wanna ask for a car ride home, too.”

He was like a dog with his tail between his legs and you truly hated it.

“Alright, 1. It’s not a big deal, Richie. Relax. 2. I’m not taking you home, you woke me up, you owe me a cup of coffee or a drink.”

Richie awkwardly got into the car.

“Liquor store is closed now” Richie pointed to the car clock, his voice starting to level and sound normal. “And all your stupid fuckin’ coffee places cost probably the same amount as my bail. Which– how did you pay for that?”

“Rainy day fund. I’ve been picking up extra shifts lately.”

“Thanks, I’ll pay you back.” He answered automatically how one does when they’ve borrowed money.

“Just show up to court.” You offered a different answer in response.

He nodded and brought his hands to his head, like wiping them across his face was going to wipe the shame of the night away.

“I have good coffee at my place. And I have alcohol. You down? There’s no way I’m going back to sleep tonight.”

“Yea I’m down.”

———-

You walked back into your apartment, keys hitting the table with a light throw, your jacket being flung on the couch. As you circled back around your kitchen table from the couch you approached the freezer. Grabbing a pack of something vegetable like and frozen to give to Richie.

“Here,” You tossed him the frozen mixed veggies. “For that gnarly eye.”

His face twisted in sarcasm as he nodded at you, which instead of being bitchy back you just smiled. You’d take this over embarrassed Richie anyday.

“I feel like I don’t need to ask but, alcohol or coffee?”

“Alcohol.” He responded too quickly. “Please.” The added pleasantry was appreciated.

Grabbing two glasses and filling them with ice, you brought them over to the small dingey bar cart that sat next to your open window on your 5th floor apartment.

“I’ve got rum, gin, vodka, tequila. All bottom shelf and probably expired. Pick your poison.”

“Gin.”

His answer shocked you, you expected vodka or him to ask for something dark. You had already scripted some beggars can’t be choosers response back in your head that you were forced to table.

Placing the glasses and two bottles on the table, you passed him the gin and pushed his glass towards him.

“Tequila, huh?” The question came as he poured the ginninto his glass.

“Always my drink of choice.” You nodded and sat at the head of the table with him to your right. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

He had already downed what would be his first shot of many, and started to repour his glass a little higher now. After another sip, he replaced the veggies against his eye with the glass of gin.

“Wanna? no.” He retorted.

“Assault and disturbing the peace?” You read off both charges that were sitting in your head.

The look he gave you was annoying to describe in the least. “How—?”

“To pay bail they tell you the charges. To make sure you want to go through with vouching for someone.”

It was your turn to refill your glass now.

“I don’t know I was down at Cerces, bunch of fuckin’ shmucks in suits and shit, I just wanted to drink and hang out.” He shrugged his shoulders as he explained the situation. “Who the fuck am I kidding, I fucking slugged this motherfucker for being a smart ass. He got me back.” He pointed to his eye with his free hand. “Got kicked out and then decided to make some noise on the street.”

You looked over at Richie, eyebrows raised waiting for him to tell you what he said.

“Guy had a British accent, must’ve been traveling for work or something so I called him a wanker. The last word he spoke came out in an accent that made you almost spit out your drink from choking on it.

Richie choked down a laugh at your reaction.

“Why?” You leaned back in your seat.

“Why?” His voice raised in question as his brows furrowed.

“Yea, why’d you do it?”

“I don’t know just somethin’ to fuckin’ do.” He spat out quickly.

“It’s a tuesday fuckin’ night. Sleeping is what you should be doing, you gotta be at The Beef in what? 4 hours? To pick up the meat shipment tomorrow morning.”

Richie looked a little in awe as he stared at you.

“I spent half my time at the restaurant, Richie. I know the schedules, I know the people, I know.” The last two words were deeper. They meant more. You were trying to tell him that you knew what he was going through, not like the people who shook his hand and offered their condolences, but like a person who spent a lot of time with Mikey and was now feeling that loss every day.

“You uh,” Riche leaned forward on the table like he was gearing himself up to ask you something. There was silence in the kitchen for a beat, you didn’t say anything, he’d say what he wanted in time.

“I just can’t shake the damn guilt.” His head was practically touching the table as he leaned forward trying to get out his thoughts. “I should’ve fuckin’ chained him to the desk or something, or intervention his ass with rehab.”

He wasn’t really looking for an answer or response, he was just talking, so you sat there listening.

“I don’t know what the fuck to do. Every day I’m just like waiting for something and I don’t know what.” He slammed his hand on the table in frustration and leaned back.

The loud noise caused you to jump. His eyes darted to yours. “Sorry babe.” He apologized quickly and brought his drink to his lips again, taking a big gulp. “It’s like fucking groundhogs day.”

“Not today, though.” A smile filled your face. “Unless you get arrested frequently and you’re working your way through your contacts.”

“First time in 4 years.” He corrected you like it was something to be proud of. “Drunk indecency, with Mikey.” The charge was explained to you.

“Oh. I remember. Mikey called Sugar and she called me on the way to pick you both up.” You looked smug as you drank your tequila.

“I don’t even know why I went out tonight.” Richie started up again. You were following him, he was spiraling but it seemed to be somewhat helpful to him. “I just want to feel fucking normal again.”

You took a breath, preparing yourself to respond back to him but he cut you off.

“And I don’t want to hear that stupid bullshit, ‘some things aren’t replaceable Richie, you gotta move on.’ Fuck off.” He was speaking to you but he wasn’t really speaking to you.

“I was just gonna say me too.” Your voice was soft which wasn’t really like you.

“Fuuuuuccckkkk.” Richie groaned at the overwhelm of emotions and went to grab the bottle of gin to pour more into his glass, you both had lost count of how many glasses this was but neither of you cared.

“Anyways, enough about my shitshow of a life, how are you doin’?” He wasn’t even looking at you but when he asked the words hit you in your core. Why did you feel like you were going to cry? Maybe because over the last 3 weeks no one really cared how you were. Sure, people asked but they didn’t care. And even though Richie wasn’t even paying full attention to you, you knew he was genuinely asking. Maybe it was also because your best friend hadn’t asked you that in over a couple years. So Richie asking you this brought out a lot of emotion.

“Yo. You fuckin’ good?”

“Sorry. Zoned out.”

“So, how the fuck are you?” He repeated the question.

You let out a laugh that was followed by a few stray tears. “I don’t even know.” You laughed again as more tears fell. “Carmy won’t talk to me, he hasn’t talked to me truly in god damn years it feels like, my dad is who the fuck knows where, and I just lost the only Berzatto who gave me the time of day.” You let out a deep exhale. “And that’s not to shit on Sugar, she’s just been doing her own shit. It’s more shitting on Carmy.” You clarified yourself as you stabilized your voice more.

“If you want to turn this into a shit on Carmy fest, we can. I’ve got ammo for days.”

“That’s the best part, I don’t even want to shit on him. I just want him here. I want him to be present. Carmy is my best. fucking. friend. I don’t have anyone else.” Richie could get that. That’s what Mikey was to him, and even though Carmy was still alive, he understood what it was like to watch as you lost a friend. He watched it with Mikey.

“He doesn’t even know that I was getting the shit beat out of me in Minneapolis all those years ago. He does know that my dad’s been in and out because that’s been just a normality in my life, but he hasn’t asked. I tried to tell him about Mikey, but he didn’t even let me get a word out. And you know what, I don’t even give a shit. I fucking get it. Mikey pushed him away and welcomed me in with open arms and that hurt him. I’d be furious. But he doesn’t know that I was struggling. I left practically all my shit in Indianna and flew to fucking New York with my last $300 dollars. I had to open up a $500 limit credit card just to book my flight back home. Which is when I came to the beef and while Carmy was blowing me off, Mikey was literally the complete opposite. He called me. He checked in on me. He sent me home with leftovers. And I couldn’t even just tell him to lay off the fuckin’ drugs!” You were worked up, your voice carried through the apartment. The echo of your hand slammed on the table caused Richie to jump, very similar to what he did moments ago.

“Sorry.” You said in a much lighter voice.

“Hey don’t apologize, babe. We’re fuckin’ goin’ through it.” He laughed as he finished off the bottle of gin. “Clearly.” His hand raised the bottle in reference to his sentence and also to say thanks for the drink.

“Do you have a cigarette?” You were now calm, it was crazy how quick you processed things and just stored them away. It was something you had to do the entire time you grew up while your dad came and went.

“Yea, wanna head downstairs?” His finger pointed over his shoulder to the door.

“Fire escape.” You pointed in the opposite direction.

You made your way out to the black metal escape. There was enough room for both of you to stand comfortably as you smoked your cigarettes, the view was clear to the riverwalk as you stared out.

“Can I ask you something awkward?” You looked up to him as you leaned forward with your one arm hanging over the railing with the other on the cigarette in your mouth.

“I’m drunk so it’s probably the best time as any.” He agreed.

“Why wasn’t Tiff at the funeral?”

It was a substantial question. Even though you didn’t know why, you felt the weight behind it.

“Uh she had to– uh, well she had to, you know.” He started to trip over his words. “We’re getting a divorce.” The sentence just fell out of his mouth like water. It made your stomach drop, you weren’t exactly sure why. Probably because you knew that this was the worst time to be going through a divorce, not that there was exactly a good time for one either. “We uh, just were fightin’ all the time, arguing about stupid shit, I guess, you know, I’m a little immature, always at the restaurant, always with Mikey, well used to be, I’m a little hard to depend on.”

You knew he was just repeating the things that Tiff had said to him. Her reasoning, probably thrown at him like daggers in the middle of the fight. She probably wasn’t wrong, they probably did argue all the time, he was immature, you knew that, he was always right by Mikey’s side which generally meant he was at the restaurant. But all those things were obvious to you. That was who Richie was. And you weren’t going to shit on Tiff for not wanting to deal with it, but it didn’t mean you didn’t question why she got into it to begin with. I guess the answer was love, but you didn’t really know much about that. One thing that stuck out to you was the last part of the sentence. Hard to depend on. It was crazy how everyone had different views of people, Tiff had known Richie as hard to depend on. But you knew him as the opposite over the last few years.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re the most reliable person in my life.”

“I don’t know what that says about you or the company you keep.” He snorted.

You laughed at him, pushing into him with your shoulder as you took in another drag of the cigarette. There was another moment where all that could be heard was the sounds around Chicago. It was late so while the sounds weren’t comparable to a rush hour smoke break, it was Chicago so there was some city noise. Your eyes fell onto Richie’s hand as he gripped the railing. The gold ring was still on his finger, which was curious to you.

“Still got the bling.” Your head nodded to his left hand. “Why are you still wearing it?”

For a second, he frowned, confused by what you were talking about and then his eyes followed your nod.

“Oh, you know.” He shrugged and immediately took a big inhale of cigarette smoke.

“No, I don’t.” You raised your eyebrows and turned to have your back against the railing as you waited for his answer.

“I don’t fuckin’ know. Habit I guess.” He flicked the cigarette into the air and watched it fall 5 stories until it hit the ground causing the last sparks of it to jump. He moved, closer to your window and sat against the concrete wall, folding his knees up to have his arms rest on them as he was now in front of you and extending his legs out would give you no room.

“Habit.” You nodded, taking your last inhale and doing the same thing as him to get rid of it, still leaning with your back on the railing.

“Yea, you know I’ve had it on forever. Plus like I don’t know, the papers aren’t signed yet, I’m not saying things could be different, but they could, you know. They could go back to how they were. I don’t know. It’s just there’s been a lot happening, I haven’t thought to take it off.”

He was rambling. Understandably so. You pushed yourself off the ledge and went to sit next to him, copying his positioning with your own legs.

“Who the fuck am I kidding?” He looked down at his hands. “It’s over.”

The words were finite, the way he said them felt like it wasn’t his first time coming to that realization, but you figured it was probably the first time he said them outloud.

“But are you over it?” It was a genuine question from you, a little curious too, if Richie was letting you in, you were going to take it, it was the first time you felt like you had a real conversation with someone in a while.

“I mean, I don’t think we’re like us anymore, I don’t know if we ever fuckin’ were, like I think we had this idea about who the fuck we were together, right? I mean, I love her, she’s the mother of my kid y’know. But that shit was over a long time ago.”

“What’s the point of holding on then? Seems like it’d be best for everyone to just move on. I’d say let go but I think you both have.”

Richie looked at you, taking in what you said. Everything you said was true, it was a perspective he felt like he knew deep down but there was just something about hearing it outloud and from someone else that made it feel a little more realistic and grounding.

He nodded slowly as he brought his hand up to his mouth, covering it as he digested the information.

“So this is why Carmy kept you around all these years, you’re fucking smart. You should be like a shrink or some shit.”

You let out a laugh at his words, the irony that this was all you wanted from Carmy, a moment to chat, it didn’t have to be about Mikey, it didn’t have to be about New York, or anything, you just missed these deep conversations with him.

“Somethin’ like that.” You let out a deep sigh and looked over at Richie as he began to speak.

“So can I ask you an awkward question?” His head turned to stare back at you.

“I’m drunk so it’s probably the best time as any.” You repeated the answer he gave you which made him smile before gazing back out at the riverwalk through the bars of the railing.

“That guy, that came into the restaurant a couple years ago, he was the one beating on you?”

Richie knew the answer to the question, he felt like he just needed to hear you say it to get the clarity he needed, and maybe a few more details if you were open to talking about it.

You paused for a minute, not sure how or if you wanted to answer, but you thought back to that day. You thought back to how Richie didn’t ask any more questions when you told him not to. He never brought it up again, he probably had a million questions, but yet he just asked this one.

“Yea.” You held your breath for a minute thinking back. “My ex.” You pointed across the street to the little corner store. “I met him there, he was in Chicago for work, from Minneanapolis.” You felt Richie’s eyes jump to stare at you as he started to comprehend everything. “We dated for a few months, I saw him whenever he came into town, which was often. He was charming. We didn’t really do much, I guess I’m an easy date.” You let out a laugh at how unchallenging you made it for the guy. “I didn’t introduce him to anyone, one of many red flags. I knew that no one would like him, especially Carmy, he has that like shithead detector, you know? Anyways, he was wrapping up his last work trip to Chicago at the end of that August and invited me to come back with him. Carmy was leaving, all of my other friends were already back at school or moved out of town, I had nothing going on here, so I did went.” Your head shook as you recollected all of it, especially how naive and stupid it was.

“It took two days for his true colors to show.” You honestly forgot Richie was next you as you thought about the first time he hit you. “I, uh, was unpacking my stuff. Spilled my soda on the dresser, he wasn’t too happy about it.” Your hand moved to your face out of habit, like you could still feel the sting of his hand across your face. “It stopped for a while, which is why I stayed plus you know, abusers abuse hard but apologize harder so I believed him. I honestly don’t remember when it got worse but it did, and I couldn’t leave. He broke my phone, I had like no money left, no friends, a shitty job.” A stay tear fell and landed on your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. “On paydays, I’d go to a check cashing place on my break, take $20 from my paycheck and put it in my locker, because the rest of it was going to my ex for rent or whatever the fuck he used it on and anything more than $20 was cause for alarm, I had tried and failed. After a few weeks, I saved up enough for a plane ticket and flew to New York. I left in the middle of the night. It was terrifying. I left half of my shit there, not to mention my fuckin’ dignity.”

“Yea, but, uh.” The tears were now falling more frequently, you weren’t blubbering, your voice was still pretty steady, but the drops weren’t stopping. “Carmy had his own shit going on. I lied to him. I don’t even remember what I said to him about the bruises, but he believed it. He was so fucking out of it and so, I sucked it up. Found a credit card that I could open immediately with my god-awful credit score and booked my flight home.”

“Jesus Christ,” Richie’s voice was soft, something you didn’t hear from him too often. “That’s– that’s some seriously screwed up shit.” His head was shaking as he processed it all. “I wanted to kill that motherfucker. Like I knew, right? You had that mark on your arm, I’m pretty sure I fuckin’ asked you, but you looked so damn scared and small and not like a kid, I just mean like stepped on. And out of all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never looked scared let alone small. I just felt this anger in me, like I wished I pulled that fuckin’ trigger.”

A laugh escaped from your mouth thinking about that day, you didn’t find any of this funny per say, but laughing was just what your body could come up with to respond. It was muffled from the congestion of your tears, your nose was slightly red. Your hands moved up to your eyes and rubbed them before you told Richie your final thought.

“You know, that day, that was my first day home. I was so nervous walking into the restaurant, I didn’t know how everyone was gonna be, if they were mad I left or what. But you looked up and me and smiled and I thought ‘Hell must be freezing over if Richie fuckin’ Jeremovich is the one saving me from my sorrows.’”

He smirked at that, there was some peace served to him knowing that.

“Can I say something else awkward?” His voice was still steady.

You nodded.

“Thanks.”

That was it. That was all Richie said.

You licked your lips and brought them inside your mouth, trying so hard to hold in what you knew would be exploded laughter. After one successful second, you failed. You let out the craziest noise as you laughed out loud. Your head fell onto Richie’s shoulder as you laughed and caught your breath, Richie joined in the laughing, the two of you louder than you should have been at 3 in the morning.

“Shut the fuck up!!!” A random voice called out from below you, which caused the both of you to try and shush yourselves while uncontrollably laughing even more.

As you both calmed from the laughter, there was a brief second where the two of you were looking at each other. It was short, but it was electrifying, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the emotions, but something was gravitating you two towards eachother.

There was no shot you could explain when or how it happened. But when your mind came to it, you realized you were horizontal on top of Richie on your fire escape with your tongue practically down his throat. His lips were soft, surprisingly, which was what this entire situation was, surprising to say the least. You thought your reaction to kissing Richie wasn’t going to be to lean into it more, but when you both took a minute to catch your breath, there was nothing else in your head but the thought of wanting to kiss him again.

“I’m so–” He started to come to it and get flustered but you didn’t let him, you were back to kissing him before he could even finish apologizing. The shock didn’t last long on him, he was melting back into it pretty quickly, his hands moving to your face, the heat of his breath exhilarating you more. Your body grinded on his out of habit, feeling his excitement that you were moving into him. A groan or two or five left your mouth, you lost count and honestly any consciousness in your mind was also out of the window. You were a one track mind, and that was to get Richie into bed.

________

The cold air mixed with the rising sun glares woke you up. The pounding of your head being the first thing you felt and heard thumping in your head. A groan came from your throat as you rolled over to hide from the sun, letting the thin sheet get tangled up more across your body. That’s when you realized how cold you were, the thin sheet wasn’t much but it really wasn’t helping since you had no clothes on underneath. Memories from the night before crashed onto you which didn’t help the headache that was getting progressively worse.

Expecting to bump into the man you shared the bed with last night your hand was met with an empty bed. A deep sigh came out from your mouth as you collapsed deeper into the bed. You weren’t disappointed or hurt, it was just a lot to take in, thinking about what exactly happened, what you talked about, how good the sex was. Which you had to admit was really good. Not to say you thought sex would Richie would be good or bad, it was that you never thought of it before, so the thought in itself was shocking. Then there was the thought about what this meant moving forward. That was a notion you spent little time on, you weren’t going to make anything awkward. It was a one night stand and it was Richie, it wasn’t going to be weird.

There was no point in trying to go back to bed, you rolled over, grabbed what you hoped was a tylenol and not a breath mint that was loose on your nightstand and reached for your sunglasses.

You sat at the edge of your bed for a minute, trying to work up the courage to get your legs to work. “Alright, clothes. Then water. Then food.” You mapped out your next few moves. To get food, you had to go downstairs, you had nothing in your apartment except for stale leftovers.

The elevator dings were aggravating, you wished the sunglasses on your face did more than block your eyes from the bright lights but being hungover you just had to face the consequences.

As the sign flashed first floor over the buttons, the doors whooshed open. As you pushed off the back wall of the elevator you stopped in your steps when you saw Richie standing in front of you with a bag of what you assumed was food from the smell.

“Hey, I went to grab breakfast.” His voice was courtly, not his normal Richie self, more polite.

You said nothing, just ushered him into the elevator with your arms as you fell back against the wall leaning your head back to rest there as well. Both of you stood there in silence, you weren’t trying to make it awkward, in fact that thought didn’t even cross your mind. All you could think about was how hard your head was pounding and how much agony work was going to be later. Richie on the other hand, didn’t exactly thrive in silence, he was fidgety, switching which hand he held the bag of food in, leaning back, standing straight, making noises with his mouth, casually trying to look over at you.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses?” His voice switched from polite back to his normal abrasive Richie voice.

“Because I have a headache.” Your voice monotone.

“Oh, well I have food.” He held the bag out a little to show you. You would have picked up on what he was insinuating, you have a headache food could fix it, but you just felt like he was repeating himself when all you wanted was silence.

“Yea you fuckin’ said that, Richie.” Your eyes closed now, not that he could tell under your shades.

He got quiet again as the elevator beeped and flashed the number 3 as you passed the third floor, but that didn’t last long.

“I didn’t get coffee because ya know I figured you had stuff here and it’d be better than shit out there.” His voice raised an octave which triggered you.

“You’re right.” Again, answering in a monotone voice.

“Are you like mad at me or something?” Richie frowned and stepped somewhat in front of you.

Normally you would have bugged out on Richie, any other day, any other circumstance, but it clicked. Things weren’t normal, you slept with him, this was weird new territory so you offered him some peace.

“No, sorry, I’m just really hungover, I appreciate this.” You pointed to the bag of food as the elevator opened on your floor, you squeezed past him to your apartment, opening it and welcoming him in and immediately moving to the coffee machine. Not bothering asking Richie what he wanted, you started to concoct two warm drinks, turning back around with the mugs in your hand to see him laying out the spread he bought.

“I don’t know what you like so I tried to cover my bases.” He started to point at the styrofoam take out containers. “Sausage and Eggs, Bacon and Eggs, Bagel with Cream Cheese, Bagel with Butter, and pancakes or waffles.”

You were impressed. Richie just kept surprising you.

“Wow, uh, I’ll take the bacon and the waffles.”

“Alright, cool. Waffles.” He mumbled as he searched for the container before handing it to you, sort of like he was taking a mental note as he was searching.

He took a sip of the coffee, shaking his head in approval, “Yea that’s good fuckin’ shit.”

You hummed a light laugh as you thanked him, opting to shorten his nickname even more and call him Rich.

The silence crept up again, the sounds of eating and the wind from the open window the only thing filling the void. You felt the awkwardness and the tension, which was not what you expected, it was Richie fuckin’ Jerimovich, he never made anything awkward, although he was trying to fill a lot of the silence, typical of him and you were offering short responses if any.

“We’re good, Richie.” You decided to speak up.

His head turned, mouth full of eggs, bagel in his left hand, it was a sight that put a smile on your face. “Huh?”

“I just, I want you to know like we’re good, this doesn’t have to be awkward.”

“Alright, yea, not awkward.” He nodded in agreement and went back to his food.

The two of them awkwardly said goodbye, their short understanding not being enough for them to be on the same page but at least they both knew they were still cool, it was just managing the tension of ‘I saw you naked last night and now know a lot of your deepest darkest secrets so do I hug you goodbye or wave or what.’ But you both managed to get out of it unscathed and with a kiss on the cheek and a ‘call me if you need anything’ which was successful enough in your book.

Work that day had dragged on, your mind and body were not equipped to deal with people all day but yet you were stuck pushing through. By the time your shift ended, you walked outside, taking in the cold Chicago air as you walked home. The heaviness of life started to weigh on you, the thought of how even though your daily routines hadn’t changed everything was different, how you couldn’t stop by The Beef while they were closing up and meet up with Mikey and Richie to hang out and bullshit around. But then something dawned on you, you still had Richie, and what better way to make things not awkward then by breaking the tension between you.

You: 10:37 You wanna go to Cerces?

Richie: 10:37 I got banned

You: 10:38 When has that ever stopped you before? Richie: 10:40 Yea, I’m on my way I’ll be at yours in 10 minutes.

Next Fic: The Smell Of Rain

#The Bear #The Bear fanfic #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #mikey berzatto #sugar berzatto #carmy berzatto #michael berzatto #carmen berzatto

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