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yutaholic · 5 months

Text

smells like teen spirit (M)

PAIRING: Jeno (NCT) + reader (female)

SUMMARY: Jeno keeps getting on your last nerve, but you still end up in his arms with your tongue down his throat.

WARNINGS: strong language; some drug use; explicit sexual content

NOTES: 8.6k words; this is part two of a rose and her thorns, but can be read as a standalone one-shot

Chicago, 1991

A tale as old as time. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll.

That was our life that summer. Some of us in different doses than the others.

You sat on the bed with your legs bent, resting the notebook against your thighs as you scribbled out another page of the band’s escapades.

Though there was a connection with Mark, we agreed to keep things simple for the rest of the summer. Nothing could be allowed to interfere with the band. God forbid we earned a reputation like Fleetwood Mac’s.

Unfortunately, this agreement caused some awkwardness and I handled that the way I always did - with distance. If Mark couldn’t help but complicate things, then I would do him a favor and give both of us the space we needed.

It felt like shit, but I was used to being the villain.

Turning the page, you kept writing in the eerie quiet of the van. Haechan was bouncing his leg up-and-down at a mile a minute, thoroughly annoyed by Jeno’s delay. Mark was dozing in his seat, trying not to fantasize about you and the fucking heaven between your thighs, but he couldn’t help but watch you jotting down your feelings, your grievances, your hopes and your dreams.

He prayed that he was part of the latter.

The silence broke when the van door opened loudly, followed by a disheveled Jeno stumbling inside. “Goddamn, I am getting so much pussy on this trip,” he huffed, running a hand through his overgrown and severely damaged blond hair.

“Jeno, I swear to god,” you barked, scratching out the compliment you had given him at the top of the page. “If you give me an STD this summer, I will set your drums on fire.”

“You would destroy my child?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Jeno grumbled something under his breath about how you always rained on his parade of pussy and shut the doors. “Let’s get on the road,” he said irritably, shooing Haechan out of the driver’s seat and jerking the van in gear.

“We’ve been waiting for you, dumbass,” Haechan sniped. He’d been getting so annoyed and impatient he threatened to leave the bastard drummer behind and never look back. That bitch can walk, he’d declared moments before.

Mark stayed quiet in the passenger seat, sluggish with sleep. He looked to you again, watching you write in your journal and wondering what you were saying about him.

About all of them.

Jeno drove fast, but not a soul complained. The gig in Chicago was the most highly-anticipated of the trip.

The van hurtled down the highway, not stopping for several hours until you begged for a bathroom. After a quick gas station run, you put some fresh snacks into the cabinet and wrangled your hair into a bun on your head.

Jeno came in with a bag in hand and said, “I bought more condoms.”

“Good for you,” you deadpanned, wrinkling your nose.

“Although I heard Mark didn’t have to wear one,” Jeno added, tsking his tongue. “One of the few perks of being innocent and pure, I guess.”

Your voice was razor sharp. “Careful, Jeno.”

Both pleased and annoyed by your tone, Jeno asked roughly, “Did you at least remember to get your birth control?”

You wanted to shoot daggers into his face with your eyes, but refusing to afford him any looks was better. “Yeah. I got my Depo shot two days before we left.”

“How long does it last?”

“Three months.”

Jeno smiled wryly. “Well, isn’t that convenient.”

“That’s the whole point,” you mumbled. He was trying to get a reaction out of you, prodding at your buttons, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

There was a pause. “I’m ready when you are,” Jeno flirted, wiggling his brows at you.

“Who said I even wanna screw you?”

“You did. Many, many times.”

True, but no longer relevant. All things considered. You returned to your notebook and said, “That was before you became a penis petri dish of death and disease.”

“Ouch.”

My relationship with Jeno could best be described as rivalry. He never gave an inch and neither did I. It was my job to keep him humble.

And damn, what a full-time thankless job that was.

Jeno had been going out of his way to rile you up after your night with Mark. He couldn’t stand seeing you sulky. Mark’s pouting was beyond remedy, but yours could be managed with well-placed jabs.

He had you down to a science. Lighting a fire under your ass was all Jeno knew how to do. The more he prodded at you, the more flames escaped. And when you were angry, you couldn’t be sad.

Because there was nothing Jeno hated more than seeing you cry.

“Can you try to stay on beat this time?” Jeno chided, spinning a drumstick nimbly between his fingers.

Having been testing the microphone, you whipped around and snapped, “Fuck you, Jeno.”

An argument swiftly ensued, petty and heated. No surprises there. Mark and Haechan stood with their guitars and watched the back and forth with no end in sight, even as people poured into the club.

“Those two are going to kill each other,” Mark said under his breath.

Haechan scoffed. “Or make a ton of babies.”

Mark almost choked on the lump that shot into his throat.

You stomped over to Haechan, pointed at Jeno and said, “I can’t deal with this douche canoe anymore!”

To which Jeno shot back, “Just shut up and sing, ice crotch!”

Your eyes went wide with rage and you spun in Jeno’s direction, ready and willing to claw out his eyes. Haechan grabbed you by the arm and steered you back over to the microphone, officially sapped of all patience.

“In ten seconds, me and Mark are going to start playing,” he said hurriedly. “And both of you are going to look like losers if you’re not ready.”

You huffed a swear or two under your breath and gripped the microphone as Mark and Haechan got into position. Then you heard the tapping of drumsticks behind you followed by the roar of Mark’s electric guitar.

By the time the show was over, you were utterly exhausted. Between Haechan and Mark, your arms draped across their shoulders, the three of you sang tiredly along to one of your songs as the boys essentially dragged you down the hall toward the back door for some well-earned sleep.

Turning the corner, you saw Jeno with two beautiful blondes. You bristled with annoyance. They were giggling at every little thing he said like they were getting dick after, which you quickly realized was the case.

Not on my watch.

“Let it go,” Haechan said, but he knew it would make no difference.

Jeno did not deserve pussy after how badly he stressed you out. You wriggled out of Haechan and Mark’s arms and made a beeline for the drummer.

“Oh my god,” you said in a loud, obnoxious voice, greeting the girls as you cuddled up to Jeno and patted his chest. “You guys look so cute! But unfortunately, Jeno is only halfway through his chlamydia treatment.”

Wide-eyed, the girls looked at you in horror before sending vengeful expressions at Jeno, who set his jaw and bristled with anger.

You held your hand beside your mouth, pretending to whisper a secret, “Very contagious through bodily fluids.”

The pair of blondes scurried off. One of them gave Jeno the finger.

“I hate and despise you,” Jeno hissed, trudging down the corridor.

You were hot on his heels, ready to resume the argument from earlier. A moniker like Ice Crotch was not going to be forgotten. “Haven’t you had enough threesomes?”

“There’s no such thing as too many threesomes,” Jeno replied, heated. “And I’ve only had four.”

Haechan asked curiously, “You keep track?”

Jeno snorted. “Don’t you?”

“One is easy to remember. I wasn’t into it.”

Mark fell in line beside them and said, more so to himself, “I have questions.”

“I don’t,” you spoke up, backhanding Jeno’s burly arm to get his attention. “Jeno, you’ve got pussy brain and you fucked up the tempo.”

Jeno went quiet, which was the last thing you expected.

Everyone was tired and raw. We were a well-oiled machine, steaming ahead like a freight train, but with time, gears start to grind. When gears grind, they tear through flesh and bone.

I know my boys. It sounds cliche, and I agree, but I know them. We’ve been friends for so long and crossed hundreds of lines of intimacy reserved for soulmates. They can’t hide anything from me.

Especially the things they intentionally try to hide from me.

You knew you had struck a nerve, but you weren’t sure which one. You dug your heels in regardless, but you were miffed when Jeno said nothing and made for the door.

“Did he just storm off?” Mark questioned, equally bemused.

“He never does that,” Haechan said softly, turning to you.

You didn’t hesitate to stomp after him, and Mark and Haechan didn’t follow this time. When fire fought with fire, it was best to keep a distance to avoid getting burned.

The cold of Chicago’s night was bitter on your cheeks when you stepped outside and you pulled your jacket tightly round you. Jeno hadn’t jumped into the van yet. He was lingering in the lot, scraping his shoes across the asphalt as he puffed on a cigarette.

Closing the distance, you called, “The hell is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he replied, avoiding your eyes and blowing out smoke.

“You’re out of sync and you’re acting weird.”

Jeno narrowed his eyes at you. “We were all out of sync tonight. Why am I the only one getting called out on it?”

As usual, no matter how angry he made you, your first instinct when things were too tense was to smooth his feathers. His surface was rough, but at his core, Jeno was tender. You brushed your hand down his arm and said sweetly, “Because you’re the rock…”

"We’re all built on," was going to be the end of that sentence. Unfortunately, I never got to say it.

Jeno cut you off. “I don’t want to be your rock,” he lashed out, hissing your name. “Don’t you feel pathetic leaning on me all the time?”

You recoiled like you’d been slapped and that was when you noticed his eyes. They didn’t belong to the Jeno you knew, but to the monster that stole his mind and would eventually give him back by morning.

Wrapping your arms around yourself in comfort, suddenly much colder than before, your breath pillared into the night like the smoke from his mouth when you whispered, “I didn’t. Until you said that.”

Jeno blinked, realizing too late that he’d hurt you.

That was the thing about me and Jeno. We both thought the other to be fearless and unbreakable, but also knew who we were at each other’s cores. I was his mirror image and he was mine. The broken kids; the kids that just wanted to be loved. The pair everyone knew to be demons, but never stopped to think how we became them.

The fallen angels.

Anger faded from his face in an instant. “I didn’t mean it,” Jeno started, flicking away the cigarette and reaching for you.

You stepped back, not wanting to be touched. “You’re at your most honest when you’re high, baby,” you said sternly, fixing him with a look that rooted Jeno in place. “Don’t lie to me now.”

Jeno swallowed the lump in his throat. How could you always see right through him?

You wiped the tear that spilled down your cheek and escaped into the van, your safe place, your little haven. Jeno ran a hand down his face and cursed, “Fuck,” for hitting you where it hurt.

The rest of the night was tense and awkward, only slacking when sleep took hold. Everyone was painfully exhausted. Chicago had exceeded expectations and pushed all limits. The show was insane. The energy was incredible. I would remember that performance for the rest of my life.

Me and the boys may have been a little out of sync, but each of us gave it our all. We left nothing on the floor and held nothing back.

Haechan curled around you in the bed, keeping you warm. You claimed the bed together more often than not. Mark slept like a vampire, on his back on the floor with his arms at his sides. It was the weirdest thing you’d ever seen, but it worked for him somehow. He slept like a baby, the whistle of his snores filling the van.

Jeno sat in the driver’s seat, looking up at the stars, exhaling the smoke from a joint. He was wide awake, couldn’t sleep. An unfortunate side-effect of the shit he took to get high. The marijuana wasn’t simmering him down as hoped. He’d probably stay up all night and sleep the day away.

Glancing over his shoulder, seeing your pretty face made him smile. You looked even cuter when you slept, but it was frustrating as hell.

No one else noticed he was high but you. Did you really know him that well?

Of course she does, Jeno thought. You were his better half. That’s how it worked. He could never escape you. There was a point of no return when it came to intimacy. Not so long ago, you and Jeno soared past that point. Two reckless teenagers, young and wild, that found all their highs and lows with each other.

Jeno propped his legs up on the dash and closed his eyes, watching the memories like a movie in his head. Mark shredded the electric as if his life was on the line; probably to vent his sexual frustration. Haechan was a whirlwind of energy despite playing that boring ass bass. And you, beautiful you… Mark wasn’t kidding when he said you were a god on stage.

Chicago delivered on the show, but not the after-party. Instead of drinking and fucking the night away, Jeno was in the stuffy van watching the stars go by when he wasn’t stealing glances of you. He wanted to be in your arms, needed you to kiss him and tell him everything would be okay.

You were the fix he craved most of all.

In the time it took him to blink, dawn broke. The sun shone across Jeno’s face. He lifted a hand, shielding his eyes. He grumbled a little and turned in the seat to get comfortable, cursing at the awkward angle his back was in.

Your hand touched his shoulder gently and Jeno lurched in surprise, peering up at you. He’d never looked so weary and drained, but you could see the animal was gone from his eyes. “You’ve been up all night?” Your voice rang with compassion, and Jeno felt utterly undeserving.

He nodded, his eyes fluttering closed, unable to keep them open any longer.

You tugged at him, getting Jeno to his feet and ushering him to the bed, where he basically collapsed onto the mattress. Mark and Haechan were up, crawling around in search of coffee like a pair of zombies. Meanwhile, you let Jeno situate and draped the blanket over him, tucking him in, and brushed some of his hair back from his face.

Jeno took your hand and laced his fingers through yours. “Tell me you love me,” he said in barely a whisper.

“I love you,” you replied without hesitation, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles. You stayed propped over him, wanting to be close so you could be sure he finally drifted off. You left a chaste kiss on his brow and coaxed, “Go to sleep, baby.”

Mark turned away. It wasn’t jealousy he felt, just longing. Seeing you so gentle with someone you were viciously fighting with the night before made him want you more. No matter what was said and done, there was too much love in this cramped little van.

When Jeno’s breathing leveled out and his hand went slack in yours, you finally relaxed. You’d be damned if he went days without sleep. There wasn’t much you could do, but the boys had their limits and you did your best to make sure they weren’t crossed.

Without another word, you clambered into the driver’s seat and turned the key, driving out of the club parking lot and onto the main road. You found a shopping center where Mark and Haechan could run errands while Jeno was out, and you pulled in.

Jeno slept well into the afternoon, stirring when the smell of hot food filled the van. Haechan used some of the gig money to splurge on delicious Chinese takeout.

You pulled out a foldable table from behind the cabinet and stood it up on the floor. The four of you sat around it and ate in silence, stuffing your faces until your bellies were full. You and Haechan gabbed a little, but not much. Mark and Jeno didn’t mutter a single word, both of them stuck in their feelings.

A far cry from how they would be that night.

One last show in Chicago. You were back on the same stage as before. It was the first time the band would perform an additional night at a club.

Jeno and Mark were squabbling, which was a rare enough sight to see. The two generally didn’t like to fuck with each other. It always resulted in fists flying and both were surprisingly really good at scrapping.

You looked to Haechan and rolled your eyes. Your best friend was smiling, on the verge of a laugh.

“We’re doing the third set,” Jeno said firmly.

“She can’t,” Mark replied, anger rising. “Her voice is fried from last night. The third set could knock it out for weeks and we’ll have no singer.”

Jeno shrugged. “She can take it.”

You were thoroughly annoyed. “She’s standing right here,” you spoke up, folding your arms. The audacity they had. It made you bristle, because you knew it had nothing to do with your voice and had everything to do with your body.

“What do you want to do?” Mark asked, softening his voice for you.

Jeno cut in, “Don’t ask her. You have to push her.”

You shot him a nasty scowl. “Stop pushing me.”

“Or what?” He smirked.

You shivered with irritation crossing dangerously toward rage.

“I don’t think you can do the third set,” Jeno said, challenging you, his smirk deepening. “Prove me wrong.”

“I’m not falling for that reverse psychology bullshit.”

“Coward.”

A smug look washed over your face as you hissed, “Don’t you feel pathetic leaning on me?”

The smile fell off Jeno’s lips. “I said I was sorry.”

“Don’t bother. I don’t care,” you snapped, but you definitely cared. The wound was still fresh and stung.

Haechan tilted his head when you looked at him. He was always your anchor in the rough seas of Mark and the violent winds of Jeno. “I’m with you, whatever you choose,” he said.

If I ever walked off that stage, my boys would follow. No questions asked. They would follow me into hell and back. Though the four of us would probably just live there indefinitely.

You straightened your shoulders and your tone left no room for argument. “We’re doing the third set.”

Jeno beamed victoriously. Haechan nodded. Mark gave a look mixed between concern and awestruck.

You sang until you were spent; brutally, wholly, and everything in between. Your legs felt like jelly when you walked off stage and your chest ached, lungs taut. The adrenaline, like a performance-enhancing drug, had run its course and you were officially on empty.

It wasn’t unlike you to push yourself to the absolute limit. You loved the stage. You worshiped the power that surged from your voice when you sang into the mic. Pipes for days, Haechan always said.

The dressing room was a sight for sore eyes. You dropped heavily onto one of the sofas and let your head fall back, closing your eyes. Your throat felt like you’d swallowed razors.

“Try not to talk,” Haechan said, holding up his hand when you shot him an irritated look. “I’m not telling you to be quiet. I’m suggesting you let your voice rest.”

You nodded and sunk back into the sofa again.

Mark was vibrating, the energy of the show still pulsing through him. Brimming with energy (the excess turning into courage), he walked over to you and bent down, pressing a lingering kiss to your brow.

You smiled, knowing it was Mark without opening your eyes.

Jeno finally deigned to grace the rest of you with his presence, bursting into the dressing room and exclaiming, “Holy shit, you killed it!”

“And this is where you take all the credit,” you rasped, wincing at the sound of your own voice.

“I’ll wait till you go to bed and then I’ll take all the credit.”

You lifted your head and narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t you have some ass to chase?”

Jeno licked his lips. “Nah. I only got eyes for you right now.”

“Pluck them out for all I care.”

“You wanna fuck me so bad you look stupid.”

You waved him away, settling down and closing your eyes again, and wheezed, “Have fun with your hand.”

Haechan sat beside you, picking up your legs and draping them over his lap. “I’ve never seen you so mad at him.”

“He just doesn’t stop,” you huffed. “You know when to leave me alone. Mark never pushes my buttons. Jeno just keeps fucking digging.”

Haechan chuckled. “That’s all he knows how to do.”

“Whatever.” You shrugged, feigning indifference.

Mark suddenly asked, “Do you love him?”

You sighed. “I love all three of you. He’s definitely my least favorite though.”

Mark gleamed proudly at Jeno, who scowled back.

“So, if we were drowning, who would you save first?” Haechan asked mischievously.

“Mark. Obviously.”

Mark’s grin widened, while Haechan gasped and put a hand over his heart like it was the ultimate betrayal.

“You can swim,” you said, patting Haechan’s arm over your legs. You opened your eyes and gave Jeno a vicious sneer. “Jeno’s the only one drowning.”

Jeno’s lips squared into a frown.

“What’s that mean?” Mark asked curiously, but Haechan stayed silent. He knew.

“Leave it,” Jeno warned, darker than ever.

The three of you did. Unlike Jeno, you knew when to quit.

Some people did drugs. Others did rock music. A few did both.

The boys dispersed momentarily. You were relieved when the dressing room was empty, leaving you to your thoughts and the searing pain in your vocal chords. Rubbing at your eyes, smearing your makeup, you didn’t hear someone come back in as you muttered to yourself, “God, my throat fucking hurts.”

“It’s probably raw as shit,” Jeno said, making you jolt. And roll your eyes. He cleared his throat and switched his tone to add, “Speaking of raw…”

“No.”

“You let Mark in raw,” he whined loudly.

You cut him a glare. “I wouldn’t let you raw me if you were the last man on earth.”

Jeno pouted. “Ow.”

With a scoff, you decided to turn the tables on him. “Why are you so hard for me the past few days? I can’t even brush my teeth without you humping the air around me.”

There was no shame to be found in Jeno. “I haven’t had you in weeks,” he groaned.

Your lips parted in surprise. “You’ve had every other girl in the country.”

“It’s not the same.”

You stood and crept close to him, close enough to ghost your lips over his mouth. Jeno went boneless, every inch of him fixated to you and what you would do next. He wanted you so bad he couldn’t see straight. So, you decided to yank the metaphorical rug out from under him, sniping, “You’re pathetic.”

“Are you really going to hold that against me forever?” Jeno asked, tensing.

No. It was just easier to be mad at him. That was the only way I could have some defense against the power he had over me.

“I’ll make you a deal,” you said, sliding your hands over his shoulders and winding your fingers into his hair. “Answer one question for me and I’ll forgive you.”

Jeno was one more breath away from kissing you. He knew it was a trap. You were luring him in and he was happy to swallow the bait. “Fine,” he replied in a husky voice, eyes on your lips. “Ask your damn question.”

“What are you taking?”

“What do you mean?”

You hardened your gaze on him and tugged on his hair. “Don’t play that with me. I know better.”

Jeno studied you a moment. You would keep yanking this thread until it unraveled. He pushed, you pulled. The two of you could play tug-of-war with each other’s heartstrings forever. Jeno decided it was better to rip the bandage off and get it over with it.

He reached to the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out a bag, and handed it out to you.

You took a split-second look at the bag and your jaw dropped, your arms falling as you snatched it quickly. “Cocaine? Are you fucking kidding me, Jeno?”

Jeno stole the bag back in the time it took you to blink, returning it to the safety of his pocket. “We’re supposed to do drugs,” he defended, rather unconvincingly. “We’re rockstars.”

“We’re teenagers that just graduated high school with barely enough cash for fuel and chips!”

“How I spend my cut of the money is my business,” Jeno shot back.

“This isn’t about the money.” You folded your arms, scolding him like a mother would a child; oscillating between angry and worried. “You know how dangerous that shit is.”

Jeno shifted his approach too, ever your mirror. “It’s the only way I can perform, babe. If I don’t have it, I can’t focus and I get too nervous.”

You softened even more, like Jeno knew you would. “We can get you something else,” you said gently. “Something better. Safer.”

He scoffed. “With our gas and chips money?”

You sighed, accepting a temporary defeat, but you pressed, “You’re doing it to get high. Not to concentrate.”

Jeno went slack, equally defeated, and reached for your waist. “I’m just trying to have a good time. We know this won’t last. We’re going nowhere.”

You lowered your head. “I know.”

The summer was half over and we hadn’t been scouted. Hope was replaced with disappointment and eventually, disappointment would flip to resentment. We never put it into words, but it was like a cloud following us, day and night.

Jeno took your face in his hands and tipped your chin up until you met his eyes. “Let me have this summer,” he whispered sadly. “Mark got you. I got this.”

Something inside you broke a little.

Yes, when the summer was over, you were Mark’s.

But the summer wasn’t over.

Jeno smiled in surprise when he felt the warmth of your lips on his, but he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and deepen the kiss. Feeling the heat of your body against his was what he’d been craving, wanting you to burn him alive.

My first instinct always was to comfort him. I would chip away at myself and give him every piece if it meant he could use them to stitch his wounds.

Believe it or not, Jeno was my first love, but a first love at fifteen means nothing in the grand scheme of things. He was my first everything, but we just didn’t work. No matter how hard we tried. There was a mad and intense connection between us, inseverable, but in the confines of a relationship, we were wild animals forced together in a cage.

I know few will understand us. Hell, even I don’t understand how I could have so much passion and fire for someone that stretched me thin and forever kept me at the brink of insanity.

But I was beyond questioning it.

Jeno slipped his tongue in your mouth and you grabbed his hips, pulling him flush against you. His kisses were surpassing hungry and landing somewhere near ravenous. The intensity must have scared him, because Jeno suddenly parted from you and took a step back.

You rubbed your lips bashfully, not realizing you were panting until it was the only sound in the quiet dressing room. And Jeno was breathing just as heavily.

“What’s wrong?”

Jeno shook his head. “I want you so bad.”

You snickered. Here you were on a silver platter and he was the one that put distance between you.

Though you opened your mouth to say something snarky, Jeno spoke up, “But you’re going to leave me.”

Your heart sank. It dawned on you; this summer was the end to a lot of things. Youth was ending. The band was ending and with it, all of your dreams.

And the tie between me and Jeno would have to finally be severed so my life with Mark could start.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. You didn’t want to think about Jeno and his broken heart. Or that the drugs you scolded him over were what he used to fill the void you left behind.

Jeno respected the hell out of you for having the strength to leave him. He never could walk away from you even though he knew it was for the best. You would spend your whole life trying to fix him while he would always use you as a crutch.

It wasn’t fair to either you or him.

“Mark is good for you,” Jeno said in barely a whisper, his eyes glistening.

You shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about Mark.”

Jeno swallowed the lump in his throat. Seeing his pain reflected back at him on your face was too much. “Get high with me.”

Your eyes went wide. “Why?”

“You’re my person,” he said, vulnerable. “The only one I’ve ever wanted to do it with.”

This was what you struggled to put into words - the hold this boy had on you. He was bottomless ocean depths.

“It’s always you and me. We do everything together,” Jeno continued, reaching for your hand and leaving a kiss on your knuckles.

You let him pull you back into his arms and asked, “What if I die?”

“I’ll bring you back,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your brow that completely melted you.

“What if you die?”

“Let me go.”

Your eyes suddenly shone with the threat of tears. “Never.”

Jeno leaned into you, stealing a kiss from your lips. “Just this once, babe.”

You paused, thinking it over. Everything inside you screamed, “Yes!” Jeno never failed to bring this side out of you - the reckless, starved one that didn’t give a damn about consequences. You always feared if that was the real you, the true you. “Just this once,” you said quietly, closing your eyes as Jeno sealed his lips to yours again.

The idea of getting high reached out to you with gentle, caressing fingertips, promising to banish the pain and numb the hurt.

Tearing himself away from you once more, Jeno walked over to the door and locked it.

Yet another first time with Jeno to add to my list.

You were caught off-guard at how fast the high kicked in and never before had you noticed how tense your body was until it wasn’t anymore. Your mind was even lighter. There was no more torment. You could feel that it was there, but it didn’t ache any longer.

The sensation was indescribable. You were whole, perfect, immortal and invincible all at once.

And that was how you found yourself on the couch with Jeno, pawing at each other like animals in heat.

“Jeno?”

“I know.”

You sucked in a breath as he nipped at your neck and asked weakly, “Am I going crazy?”

“Babe,” he said, meeting your eyes with a smirk. “You been crazy.”

You laughed and the sound was music to Jeno’s ears, making his smile widen.

Time blurred together. It could have been the next day or the next year for all you cared. All you knew was this moment with Jeno and how it lasted a lifetime.

You sank deeper into the sofa beneath Jeno’s weight. Your thighs were hooked on his hips, hands roaming his taut, muscly back. Both your shirt and his tee were somewhere on the floor, along with your bra.

Jeno kept grinding into you, each movement rougher than the last. “Fuck,” he swore, lips brushing your ear. “I just know you’re getting so fucking wet right now.”

He wasn’t wrong.

A wanton noise of pleasure escaped you and Jeno ate it up. You were burning by a thousand degrees, it was almost painful. You had never craved someone’s body on such a primal level before.

With Mark, it was love, but this? This was lust running wild with abandon.

The doorknob wiggled. You didn’t hear it over the loud thumping in your ears and neither did Jeno, who was far too busy bruising your neck whilst he kneaded your breasts, pinching your nipples to make you squirm. Haechan didn’t need to try the knob again to know what was going on. He turned to Mark, who was coming down the hall, and led him away.

“They’re working out their issues. Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said hurriedly. Mark hesitated, but didn’t argue. He was none the wiser. With the way you and Jeno had been at each other’s throats, it never crossed his mind that you would fuck him.

Meanwhile, you were discovering new uncharted levels of arousal, undulating beneath Jeno, trying to match his movements, which were getting faster and harder. The drugs in your system made everything feel more intense, all-consuming. There was no tension, no insecurity, just instinct and pleasure.

Jeno was definitely waiting for you to give him the green light, and you were enjoying keeping it from him, but the throbbing between your legs was unbearable.

You planted your hands on his thick chest and pushed, making Jeno prop over you and look into your face. “Wanna fuck now?” you asked sheepishly.

His pupils dilated. “I thought you’d never ask.”

You whined when Jeno clambered off of you, standing next to the sofa and unfastening his pants. Before he drew them down his thighs, he pulled condoms from his pocket and dropped them on your lap.

“Two?” You snorted. “My lucky day.”

“One for each girl. You know, the ones you chased away from me.”

Licking your lips as his hard cock sprang into view, you grabbed him by the hips and purred, “I called first dibs on that dick years ago.”

Jeno chuckled, but his expression changed on a dime when you leaned in. He watched you drag your lips over his abs, kissing and nibbling along his happy trail. His breaths stuttered as he said, “Whenever you want it, it’s all yours.”

You peeked up at him hotly. “I want it now.”

While Jeno fitted himself with a condom, you shimmied out of your pants and underwear, and the moment they were on the floor, you turned onto your knees, braced yourself on the arm of the sofa, and arched your back, sticking your ass in the air.

He wouldn’t be able to resist it for a second.

“Fuck you,” Jeno hissed, getting into position behind you and raking his cock between your folds, gathering your slick from tip to base.

You wiggled your hips. Your brain was clouded with lust and drugs, and something purely hungry for Jeno. Like he was your favorite meal. “Gimme it,” you huffed, glancing over your shoulder. “What the fuck is taking so long?”

Jeno gave your ass a smack, making you squeak. “You need to calm down,” he chided with a grin, still sliding his length between your slit. He was so riled up his hips jerked against you involuntarily.

You reached between your legs, getting a hand around his dick and steering it into your aching pussy. Jeno let you, biting his lip and smirking at how goddamn horny you were for him.

The head of his cock pressed into your entrance and you grasped the arm of the sofa with both hands as Jeno began thrusting forward, working himself inside until he impaled you on every last inch of his girthy cock. You buried your face in the couch, biting down on the stressed leather.

Jeno gripped your waist tight and drew you to him until he was balls deep in your tight heat, feeling your walls stretch and flutter around his length. The drugs amplified everything about you; your warmth, your scent, your sounds. He barely noticed the condom at all.

When he drew back and shoved his cock back into your cunt, you lifted your head and cried, “Fuck!”

“You’re so wet,” Jeno growled, sinking in and out to hear your slick pussy welcoming him back.

You whimpered. “Fuck you and that big dick,” you mumbled, but you didn’t mean a word of it. You weren’t sure how much you could blame the drugs anymore. You wanted him to plow the living shit out of you until there was nothing left.

Jeno took that personally. As a challenge more than anything. He squeezed your waist in his hands and smacked his hips into your ass, driving his cock into your core and giving you something to really whine about.

It was all you could do not to scream as he took you for all you were worth. You fisted the couch in your hands until your knuckles ached and you threw yourself back to meet his strokes, a noise escaping on your hoarse throat with every rushed breath. Sex was a drug all its own. It just felt too damn good.

Jeno kept his hard pace, making sure he landed flush against your heat every time, and brushed his hands up your body to wrap them around your throat and tip your head back. “Yeah, that’s my good slut,” he taunted, the smack of his body colliding with yours getting louder. “She’s taking all that dick, huh?”

The sounds you made were humiliating, but they only made Jeno harder. His grip on your neck had you slack-jawed, your eyes winched closed. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him!

It wasn’t fair that he had that kind of power over my body. With him, I felt desired and powerful, and between that - untainted. Unbroken. Jeno never saw me for the damaged goods that I was. To him, I was always perfect. He completed me. No matter how unhealthy it was, I wanted it.

I didn’t need drugs. Jeno’s love was my high.

“Don’t stop,” you choked out, his hands heavy on your strained vocal chords. “Don’t ever stop...”

Loving me. Though the words wouldn’t come, Jeno knew them.

“Never, baby,” Jeno said, releasing your throat in favor of your waist, draping himself over you and burying his face in your neck. His hands wandered your breasts as he plunged in as far as he could go and stopped, leaving a few scattered, reassuring kisses across your shoulders.

Your body trembled when he bottomed out, aching with need and overstimulation. You swallowed to wet your throat, panting for air, and asked, “Why are you…?”

“You’re so fucking high, baby,” Jeno crooned, touching you gently and affectionately. “Just trust me.”

He was right. You were high on drugs and his body. You were a nerve laid bare, every brush of his hands enough to make you shiver. Your body pulsated, like you were being dangled over the edge, the pressure becoming too much to bear.

You held yourself up on hands and knees, tortured by the fact he was no longer moving inside you, but his hands playing with your breasts and his lips on your neck had your attention. The stimulation was sending more shudders across your skin, making you lean into his touch as your core throbbed for him.

“Part of you will always be mine,” Jeno whispered into your neck. “I know you’ll pick him over me, but part of you will always miss me.”

You tensed with unshed tears and cried, “I know.”

“I need you to know it’s okay,” Jeno said, turning your head and kissing you with so much pain and pleasure it knocked the wind out of you.

You kissed him back, reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair. It was a cruel curse - to love someone so deeply that was bad for you.

Jeno broke the kiss and rocked gently into you, staying in deep and lilting his cock inside your walls, the head of him kissing your cervix. Normally, you would have pushed at his hips for some mercy, but the high made you impervious to pain.

Suddenly, he thrust in hard but slow, arching his hips. You staggered out a moan and reached out to steady yourself, almost knocked off balance by his strength.

He did it again and again.

Tears pricked at your eyes. Jeno was hitting you with those drawn-out, domineering strokes, making you feel every inch of him slam against your sweet spot. He may have agreed to never hold you choosing Mark over him against you, but he was going to give you one final reminder of how absolute his control of your body was.

“I’m coming,” you warned, his name a mantra on your tongue as you took all he had to give. You were grateful for the roar of music coming from the other side of the wall, drowning out your cries and Jeno’s moans.

Jeno fisted a hand in your hair while the other still tugged and rolled your nipples. He kept his pace, hips slapping into your ass at a perfect rhythm, knowing you were on the edge of orgasm with the way your walls clamped down on his cock.

“Fuck!” Another brutal thrust sent you into ecstasy. You shook and swore, trying to crawl away from him, but Jeno was on you, shoving you into the couch and riding out your high.

“Good girl,” Jeno hissed, watching you writhe beneath him. He went still and tipped his head back, letting out a tiny moan.

You blinked to clear your eyes. You could feel the bruises forming in your skin as Jeno pinned you to the couch. It only turned you on more. When you realized he was still hard, that he hadn’t come, you mumbled under your breath. He was supposed to finish with you.

Jeno’s eyes flickered. Another moan escaped him as you rolled your hips, desperate for friction. He drifted his hands to your hair, gathering it all in his fists.

You sat up and went to work, fucking him as best you could in your position. Despite the condom, your pussy wanted to milk every drop of cum out of his dick. Post-nut clarity hadn’t set in. Either the drugs or the orgasm made you even more feral for this dumb boy.

“Oh, fuck,” Jeno groaned, watching you throw it back, bouncing your ass on him, taking him like a fucking champ. His abs tightened as he tried not to pound the fuck out of you. Instead, he reeled his hand back and slapped your ass, goading you.

“Come for me, baby,” you said darkly, the room echoing with the loud, wet clap of your bodies meeting.

Jeno growled a low curse in this throat. Suddenly he was on the edge, driven by your command and that tight fucking cunt.

You shrieked in surprise when he flipped you over roughly, the sound devolving into a moan when he steered his cock back into your pussy, grabbed your waist, and drilled into you like he would never get the chance again.

He didn’t last long at that pace. Jeno threw his head back and came, one moan after another tumbling from his pretty mouth, each one more ragged than the last as he emptied himself into the condom.

You brushed your hands over his thighs and hips, whispering little nothings as he came, feeling him shake like a leaf as he buried himself inside you. Once Jeno settled down, you touched his chest and asked, “Holy shit. Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” he wheezed, voice cracking, all the air knocked out of him.

Biting your lip to fight a laugh, you failed to hide the smug grin taking over your face.

“Don’t,” Jeno said weakly, rubbing at his eyes.

“You just came so hard you cried,” you teased, pinching his nipple for good measure.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

Feeling him about to pull out, you reached for his waist and held him there, joking, “I will remember this, forever and ever, and I will bring it up every time you get on my nerves.”

“You’re the worst.” He sobered, leaning in close. “And you’re the best I've ever had.”

You smiled as he kissed you, sealing his words on your lips. Then you giggled as his mouth traveled over your chest, sucking on a nipple. Your buds were still stiff and Jeno couldn’t resist.

“I see how easy it is to get addicted,” you said when Jeno got up to discard the condom. “That shit is intense.”

“Told you.”

Sitting up, you ran your hands through your messy hair. You could only imagine how you looked; makeup smeared, glistening with sweat. “You know you have to stop,” you told him, making your voice gentle.

Jeno afforded you no looks. “Eventually.”

You were too tired to argue, sore and spent in the best ways. When Jeno returned to the couch, you welcomed him with open arms, pulling him close and steering him to lay his head on your naked chest. You stroked your fingers through his hair and over his broad shoulders, and whispered, “I’ll never let you die, Jeno.”

He stayed quiet.

“You’re not allowed to leave me.”

“Stalker.”

You snorted back a laugh. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” Jeno lifted his head and nuzzled your cheek, teasing, “I just think it’s cute how obsessed you are with me.”

You kept touching him. His skin was just so hot beneath your fingertips, like caressing an open flame. “Are you really okay with dying?” you asked after a moment.

Jeno shrugged. “It’s unavoidable. I don’t see the point in sweating over it.” As he spoke, Jeno kissed at your neck slowly, curious if he could get you riled up again.

Your lashes fluttered and you shifted underneath him. Though he left you more than satisfied, the longer he kissed over your pulse and palmed your breasts, the quicker the ache in your core came back, ready to be filled up again.

Jeno reached down to cup your sex, running his finger over your swollen clit and swearing under his breath when he felt your soaked entrance, thinking how easily he could slide right back in and make you feel good. Both of you.

“If you died,” you stammered, struggling to form words as he touched you. “I don’t think I would ever smile again.”

Jeno was caught off-guard. He stopped pawing at you to look in your eyes, wondering if you realized just how heavy a thing that was to say. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” he told you innocently, kissing the corner of your mouth with affection.

It was the first time you’d seen him so serious. Not hiding behind his usual humor.

Jeno was surprised when you pushed him away and reached for your pants on the floor. He watched curiously as you rifled through your pocket and withdrew a balled-up piece of paper and handed it to him.

“For the memoir?”

You nodded, watching him unfurl the page, your heart thumping harshly in your chest. “Yeah, I’m constantly jotting stuff down.”

Jeno’s eyes drifted over your words.

I can’t stand him. He infuriates me. He makes me crazy. But Jeno is the one person that knows me - the good and the bad, and accepts them both.

I love my boys, but he’s the one I don’t think I could ever live without.

Jeno peered at you with glassy eyes, shining with tears. “Damn it,” he groaned, crashing his lips on yours.

As expected, you made use of that second condom.

Jeno hooked your legs in the crooks of his arms and thrust languidly, staring down at you. Your eyes never parted as he gave you release once more, knowing when the summer was over, he would never get to touch you again.

When all was said and done, the two of you slumped into opposite sides of the sofa, soaked with sweat. Once you caught your breath and Jeno returned from tossing the condom, it was your turn to clamber on top of him, using his chest as your pillow. You rested your head on his shoulder and traced senseless patterns over his collarbone with your fingertips.

Jeno said your name. “I want you to be happy. That’s all I want, but I know I can’t give it to you. I tried.”

You closed your eyes. It would keep the tears at bay. “I know.”

“I feel sorry for you, loving all three of us. It can’t be easy.”

“It’s what I was made for,” you said softly, tightening your arms around him, lest he fly away from you and never return.

Jeno changed subjects before it broke him. “I’ve never felt so self-aware of how it feels to be young. And how it doesn’t last long.”

You nodded slightly. “This time is precious.”

“I wouldn’t say precious. Definitely fun though.”

You snickered, relieved to hear his humor coming back, but a somber feeling rushed over you. “Do you think we’ll ever get tired of it?”

“Of what?”

“The performing, the fucking, and… the drugs.”

Jeno paused. “You mean each other.”

You sighed tersely. There was no hiding it from him.

My biggest fear was that my boys would hate me. That I would be a bitter reminder of what could have been, how close we were to our dreams before crash landing back on earth, broken and bruised forever from the fall.

Jeno brushed his fingers up and down your back, and kissed the top of your head. “I don’t think we’ll resent each other if this fails, babe,” he said in a low voice. Some things just aren’t meant to be, he thought sadly. Like you and me.

“If that happened, I think I would die,” you whimpered, burrowing your face in his chest.

“Don’t talk like that,” Jeno said, running his hand mischievously over your thigh. “But stop being so afraid of death. You’ll waste your life running from something that is going to catch you no matter what.”

You tipped your head back to kiss him. “I just know the devil dreads meeting us. We’ll steal his throne.”

Jeno kissed you back hotly. “Hell yeah. I can’t wait to fuck you on it.”

You laughed.

Hard to steal something that already belongs to you, Jeno.

#nct #nct smut #jeno #jeno smut #nct dream smut #jeno x reader

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 3 months

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Tan breaking the bed?? So now we have to both sleep on the couch.That's it, that's the whole smutty request. It must be Horny for Tan season or something (when is it not?) 💺 anon

loving where your head is at😌 always horny for tan season on this blog. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌 inspired by the suggestive text convos. and the image has no relevance to the fic but his arm and hand??????????? help

MONEY WHERE HIS MOUTH IS.

tangerine x fem!reader

word count. 498

warnings. 18+ only!! unprotected pinv, mating press, breaking beds. minors dni

Tangerine has been away on a two-week-long mission in South Africa, and the extent to which you missed each other was always incomprehensible. The distance and time apart isn't an uncommon part of your relationship - it was simply a kink in the road you've grown to be become comfortable with.

This time, while he was away, he filled you with an insatiable want for him, a thirst that couldn't be quenched with the hundreds of miles of distance between you. It was need he fed regularly with his filthy texts and voice notes.

So when he returned home safely to you, he put his money where his mouth is - fulfilling every one of those promises he made to you during your late-night calls.

He had you on your shared bed within minutes of being back, your naked self lying desperately under him. His weight balanced on the backs of your knees, pushing down onto your thighs as he continuously drives his cock into you - holding you in mating press.

The wind of his hips urgent and erratic, the deep need to feel you wrapped around him being the only solid thought in his brain. His strokes precise and intricate, every move made with intention - as if there's preparation and thought behind each thrust he gives you.

Every drag of his cock rips out broken noises from you, his weight knocking strained sounds from the pits of your stomach. The only other sounds in the room being his soft grunts, the hasty creaking of the bed and the slapping of sticky, wet skin. All of the lewd sounds merging together.

His expression is primal and desperate, staring down at you with that carnal look he often wears - curls falling from his usual pushed-back-do, stray hairs danging across his forehead as he vigorously fucks himself into you.

Just as you feel another high rise to the surface, you hear the cry of help of the bedframe from under you - the creaking getting louder and louder. The wooden slats sounding mere moments away from giving in.

He brushes away your cautious expression, shaking his head as if to quieten you - putting off that thought like he was trying to concentrate. The throbbing of his cock inside you alluding to his close release.

"Shush. It don't matter," he coos, his voice hoarse. "Will get a new one, just— just focus, love."

You do as asked, nodding up at him as you reach for his wrists, wrapping your fingers around the thickness like you were trying to keep him there - getting back in the zone and distracting yourself from the inevitable break of the bed.

You feel Tangerine tense up - his body stilling above before you feel a dip in the mattress beneath you, the frame caving in from under. He shakes his head frustratedly and readjusts his position, fucking you into the broken bed until you're both gasping and blubbering from your climaxes.

sorry it’s kinda short and shit

#request #💺#tangerine #tangerine smut #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x you #tangerine fanfiction

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2knightt · 11 months

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↳my rhymes, my pen, my pad.₊˚✧

──IN WHICH, miles falls head over heels inlove!。✦

||✰ — 1610!miles morales x gn!reader.

you weren’t new to this school, you’ve been going for so long now. it got boring, nothing interesting ever happens there.

same preppy people walk in and out, always on time, always talking about the same stuff.

your teacher brought out a projector and put on some video.

you weren’t the slightest bit interested. you were drawing on the sides of your work sheet, drawing nonsense.

you heard the classroom door swing open and some kid, with papers and books flying all over the places stumbled in.

“you’re late, morales.”

morales, that’s new. you think to yourself as he stands in front of the projector, looking scared.

you stare at him longer, trying to see if you recognize him, but you don’t.

miles was scanning the classroom while trying to figure out what to say next, when his eyes met yours.

miles was—stunned to say the least.

you were gorgeous, even if you looked a little bit intimidating.

your hair framed your face just right, your lips looked soft, everything about you was just, breathtaking.

miles realized all eyes were on him and started to open his mouth without thinking.

“Einstein said time was relevant. maybe i’m not late, maybe you’re just early.”

he said, with a shrug and an awkward smile.

you smiled, you have to admit it.

what a dork, you thought to yourself as you heard a chuckle from the other side of the room.

you could tell he was embarrassed, he looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

to which, he did.

miles looked for any sort of reaction in you, but all he got was a smile.

that smile was all he could think about as he sat next to this blond haired girl.

was it a good smile? or was it a bad smile?

were you making fun of him? did you think he was funny?

you had filled his thoughts, without even knowing.

before miles knew it, he was walking to his uncles house.

he had pulled out his phone, took a picture of his uncle, and sent it to him.

aaron laughed, opening the window as miles pushed his face against it.

his uncle welcomed him in, seating miles next to him on the couch.

“whatchu want? is it romantic troubles?”

“h-how’d you know?! what’re you, a wizard?”

aaron chuckled at his nephew, and started to push him for more questions.

“well, what’re they like? do you know ‘em? what’s their name?”

miles just stared at his uncle.

he didn’t know.

he didn’t know your name, how you act, or anything.

he only knows your smile, and that alone was enough to make him like you.

god that’s so embarrassing.

“i uh, dunno.”

“whatchu mean you don’t know?”

aaron asks, laughing immediately after.

he thought it was so funny that miles didn’t know shit about you!

“well—it was a uh, love at first sight typa thing. you get it, right? right?!”

miles started to play with his fingers, he didn’t know why he was so nervous to talk about you.

“how do i start a conversation with them?”

aaron looks down and shakes his head, like miles just asked the stupidest question ever.

“you just gotta do the ol’ shoulder touch, man.”

“what’s that?”

miles asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

his uncle chuckles, looking down before gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

he looks up and with the most smug voice miles has ever heard says,

“hey.”

miles started to laugh, like he wasn’t allowed to laugh anywhere else.

“so like, hey.”

he said, mocking his uncle.

the two of them started laughing like there was no tomorrow.

but unfortunately for miles, there was.

he saw you in the halls, so he took the opportunity to run up to you.

“h-hey, wait!”

you heard the shouting come from behind you.

you looked behind you and you couldn’t recognize the guy off the bat but nonetheless, you listened.

he stopped right in front of you, crouching down with his hands on his knees like he had just run a marathon.

he finally stood up after what seemed like hours.

he looked at you dead in your eyes, and you have to be honest, you kinda got uncomfortable with his stare.

he looked nervous just staring at you. jeez, you weren’t that scary, were you?

he slowly placed a hand on your shoulder, and looked like he was trying to, i don’t know, look cool?

“hey.”

you giggled at his poor attempt to start a conversation with you.

you didn’t mean to, it was just—hard not to!

“hey. do i, know you or something?”

miles started to panic, he didn’t think it’d go this far!

“i-uh-yeah! we have science together! i’m miles morales.”

“oh! lovely to finally meet you morales. i’m y/n.”

you said, sticking your hand out for him to shake.

he looked at it for a second and took your hand.

y/n, what a cute name. miles thought to himself as the bell rung.

“ugh, it’s so loud for no reason.”

you complained, letting go of his hand.

“yeah, i know right.”

“well—i’ll see you ‘round, miles.”

you said, walking away while waving.

miles just nodded and waved back. he could tell he looked like a loser, he could feel his muscles all tense as he waved back.

when you were out of sight, he finally relaxed.

he finally talked to you, and he got your name!

miles has got to tell uncle aaron about this later!

thank u guys for 200 followers i might cry

#2knightt #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #1610!miles x reader #into the spider verse x reader #across the spider verse x reader

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musashi · 1 year

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ace attorney popped the fuck off by doing that thing where certain characters have ‘hidden’ sprites that you only see once in the whole game, usually it’s an emotionally closed off character offering a smile in the final hour of their story to show a sense of peace and closure, but ESPECIALLY they popped the fuck OFF by having franziska von karma break down crying in hers.

‘the angry/mean character is actually deeply emotional and using anger to keep it at bay’ is an incredibly common character archetype but it is so often done in a more shallow manner. like they will just bust out their tragic backstory in the 11th hour and we’re supposed to sympathize because awww they’re sad :( but we already know everything there is to know about franziska pretty much immediately. we know she is a child prodigy, we know she is a genius, we know she is fierce and dedicated and that she loves what she does. and we know she’s lost her father, and we know she’s upset with her brother and wants to see him again. but she does not invite pity, because she does not want it. she lays these details out clearly and concisely when they’re relevant to what is being discussed--they simply are. she remains as she is, and she fights the same way she always has, for what she believes in.

franziska goes through it. we watch her go through it. we watch her lose everything, and then we watch her have to be confronted with the fact that her brother disappeared on her and is utterly remorseless about it aloud. and then we watch her get shot by a violent hitman, and kick and scream and fight while she’s bleeding out because she wants to go to court. she has to be dragged to the hospital by force. never once does she back down an never once does she present anything other than this steely determination and resolve. until the very, VERY end. until POST CREDITS. she doesn’t even crack until AFTER THE CREDITS HAVE ROLLED!

and it is KINDNESS that breaks her! it is softness that makes her cry. i feel like to a lot of people what miles says to her in that scene might seem cruel, but it isn’t about what he says, it’s about what he does.

by franziska’s own admission she has abandonment issues. one of the few single insights we get into her pain is that people tend to discard her and make her feel left behind. miles fled back to his home country and left her all alone in germany to pursue his career, and he wasn’t wrong to do that, but it obviously hurt franziska and she felt neglected and like he didn’t bother to keep up with her. and then when he took his dramatic fucking sabbatical, he refused to loop her into that, too. miles decided without the consent of the people who love him that he was not worth it. he was unbelievably selfish to disappear the way he did, blinded by this idea that he is not loved or worth love. franziska loves him more than anything, and he did that to her on the tail end of her father’s incarceration. she lost both of her favourite people in the span of a few months.

she ran away at the end of JFA and intended to give up on everything. and she ran away from him because if she abandons him first, he cannot abandon her. but nothing miles says in that scene undermines the fact that he chased after her. he could look her in the eyes and tell her she was scum to him but the fact of the matter is he followed her. he loved her enough to not be content just letting her give up and run away. he chased after her. can you imagine what that must’ve meant to her?

he didn’t have to chase her. and he didn’t have to bring her whip back. and when he said ‘if you stop being a prosecutor, this is where we part ways’ i think we all knew he was not being literal. i think we all knew he was full of shit. i think what miles meant by that was to light a fire beneath her. to say that he had no intention of stopping, that he would keep on fighting, and that he wanted her to fight alongside him. they’ve always been rivals and they have always pushed each other to do better and be better, and miles knows that rivalry drives franziska unlike anything else. she doesn’t actually want to stop prosecuting, she’s just emotionally vulnerable and struggling to cope and throwing a bit of a tantrum about it, and so he pokes at an old button he knows will clear her head. franziska is a difficult person, but miles edgeworth knows her more than any person in the world, he knows how to love her and he does. he loves her so much.

she has seen a lot of pain in JFA. she has seen a lot of wicked words thrown her way, a lot of pushback, a lot of antagonism and banter and bickering, but the one thing no one shows her is kindness and love. phoenix tries, when he brings her flowers, but he gets nervous and backs out at the last second. gumshoe tries, but he does it out of earshot where she can’t hear. every nice thing someone says about franziska, they say while she is not there to listen. miles is the only person who looks her in the face and says he loves her.

it is love that allows her the space to fall to pieces. it is love that shatters her veneer and turns her into a sobbing mess. she’s literally just a little girl who was forced to grow up too fast. she’s 18 years old and everything’s so hard. she just needed a fucking hug.

no scene in ace attorney will ever, ever, EVER mean more to me.

#wordy wendy #pwaa #ace attorney #franziska von karma #miles edgeworth #man.#wendy rambles #kin ramblings #wendys best

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spiderpussinc · 9 months

Text

Just a reminder since im seeing a lot of people who don't regularly read comics get tripped up on things: the Spider-man 2099 (1992) comics are NOT canon!

And this isnt due to a recent change or anything. As soon as it ended (with multiple characters dying, things being destroyed) the character of miguel went on to be retconned and reworked multiple times by his own original writer (who was dissatisfied with the state of things) and OTHER writers (who thought They could fix it).

Case in point; one of the first series after the shelving of the 2099 universe featured Miguel's 1992 timeline being quite literally *stopped* on its tracks during the first week -- before any of the other events could happen -- and had him walk out of it to join a multiverse group called the Exiles. His 2014 series reboot by the original writer also ignores 90% of the events of that series, like keeping his mom and tyler stone alive etc. Separate oneshots focused on Miguel during a few marvel events also pretty much focused on the concept of trying to reboot and fix the 2099 universe so these events "were not set in stone" or "could be changed at any time" -- and this isn't by mistake.

Miguel's latest appearance (in yet another reboot oneshot series) seems to be based on his movie visual but with 0 ties to the previous series or references to atsv itself, since at the time the movie wasnt out yet. They just wanted people to know they'd be trying again (yet again!), and it remains to be seen what will be done next.

The 2099 comics are not canon to ATSV. They are barely relevant to marvel comics. The 2099 comics, starting all the way up with the original 1992 one, are littered with all manner of racist stereotypes and cultural mishandling on part of the white author, that aged pretty badly pretty quickly. Marvel is trying to pretend they didn't happen. Miguel's 2014 comics briefly, and insistently, also tried to pass him off as a white man (he was called "Mike" for a period) which was backpedalled when it didn't work.

*You are not obligated to read these comics to understand ATSV Miguel.* ATSV Miguel was created in collaboration with actual latinos to have his own, separate, improved story. (A few interviews have stated his characterization stems from Oscar Isaac's experience as a Cuban Exile) He is visually distinct and the artbook implies his 2099 universe is built from the ground up, set apart from the comics as well.

This isn't new. Miles from the ITSV movie is also completely removed from his original universe (where among other things, his mother gets killed by venom and the avengers are assholes) which is a long way of saying TL;DR --

Don't worry about wading through Miguel's garbage if you don't want to. Half of the people and events in these books have had no effect or staying impact on canon, they are snapped out of existence at will. And absolutely don't let anyone guilt you into reading these comics to prove "you're a real fan" when the MOVIE ITSELF does not give a shit lol

#across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #marvel comics #my spider stuff #oscar isaac #itsv #into the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #ON THE CONDITION HIS CHARACTER NOT BE BORING #Aka oscar is a real one. btw #long post #long reads #miles morales #atsv miles #meta tag

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thewebcomicsreview · 11 months

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youtube

This 8-second clip is rapidly turning into a meme on YouTube/TikTok, but is also a great example of how unbelievably efficient these movies are, which is how they can fit so much shit in without it becoming overwhelming. In literally seven seconds

There is a joke with a setup and a punchline. It's kind of a cliché joke (The ol' "He's right behind me, isn't he?") but Miguel's confusion and the sound effect keeps it from feeling generic.

We establish that Miguel kind of looks down on other spider-people (calling Gwen "kid") and thinks only he can handle things

His immediate failure lets us know that he's not as capable or in-control as he thinks

The fact that he doesn't know the Vulture is behind him lets attentive audiences know that Miguel, unlike most spider-people, does not have a spider sense.

Because of the first movie, we know that Miguel not having a spider sense means he can't instinctively know if someone else is a spider-person or not, which is obviously relevant to his relationship to Miles

That's a lot of exposition in the length of a Vine, and none of it feels like exposition! And, because this is mostly texture, it also doesn't feel like the movie is just reciting a list of plot points at you the way being hyper-dense can sometimes feel like.

If you want to write...really anything, but especially a comic where every page is going to take an entire afternoon to draw and you have to make it count, you really should be studying the Spider-Verse movies, because they have some of the tightest scripts I have ever seen in any medium. That whole exchange up there only needs four panels in a comic (1: Miguel saying he'll handle Vulture with Vulture behind him, 2: "Knock yourself out", 3: "Why'd you say it like that?" 4: Punchline). You could even fit two more panels in that page if you were so inclined.

#Spiderverse #Spiderverse Spoilers #Spoilers #The Webcomic Review Reviews Motion Pictures #Motion Pictures of Spider-Man!#Youtube

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butchsophiewalten · 4 months

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There was another space last night. Only found out about it this morning and apparently they mentioned a dog animatronic named Ringo. Could you do a recap on it?

OK twitter space recap again. Just for clarity, a lot of these answers are effectively verbatim, but have been chopped down for clarity and to remove some less relevant information.

-Someone asks what the hardest part of making an episode is and Martin goes 'Fucking, coming up with what's gonna happen in it.' And talks about how like, if TWF4 took three years to make, half the time was just preproduction and him figuring out what the hell was going to happen. He talks about how TWF4 was originally going to be a return to form for the series, and then one day he woke up and thought about it and was like "this is fucking shit." and that's when he decided to make it more cinematic.

-Someone asks if TWF4 will have Spanish subtitles, and Martin says no, because writing the English ones was a pain and he doesn't want to go through that again.

-Somebody asks who Martin would cast for Brian if The Walten Files was a live action series, and Kyle extends the question to 'Who would you cast for Everyone?'. They spend the next while just spitballing answers, which I've condensed here:

Kyle thinks it'd be fun to cast Jack as "Weird" Al Yankovic, and Martin thinks that's funny. He doesn't know who he would cast for Jack. Martin says Brian would be "The guy from Whiplash", who is Miles Teller.

Martin says Derek Collins would be Michael Mckean, but Kyle picks Clancy Brown.

Kyle says Charles should be Adam Driver.

Martin says Felix would be Michael Douglas as he is in Falling Down, and says that he's always thinking of him whenever he goes to draw Felix.

Martin says Sophie would be Ally Sheedy as she is in The Breakfast Club, and how Allison Reynolds (Ally Sheedy's character in The Breakfast Club) was in part inspiration for Sophie's character. Secondary pick Martin gives is Mia Goth, but says they aren't the same in the face or the mannerisms, just that Mia Goth would make a good portrayal of the character because she's such a good actress.

Martin picks Shelley Duvall for Rosemary, saying again that they don't really look alike, but that she'd do a great job portraying the character. Kyle says a young Jane Kaczmarek would make a good Rosemary, too, and Martin mentions that he could also see a very young Carol Burnett, "...because she has a very smile-shaped smile."

Martin says that they aren't at all the same physically, but that Tina Parker would make a great Susan. Inspired heavily by her role in Better Call Saul.

-Martin hems and haws for a bit about who a good Jenny would be, saying that it's difficult, because she has such a particular face. On the topic, Kyle brings up how fans so often portray Jenny as "chubby", and how that's really impacted how he thinks of Jenny as a character, where he imagines the fanon version of her before even the canon one.

Martin agrees like, "This kinda influenced the way I draw her. I've been drawing concept art for Jenny recently and I noticed I've started drawing her a little chubbier. Not to the extent of the fanon, but the way I look at the character has changed a lot because of the way the fandom draws her... But I could definitely see Jenny as a chubby character, she just has that vibe." (<-Mostly paraphrased)

-Martin and Kyle say they both keep running into a funny problem where they google Charles using his full name, and wonder why all of the results just call him 'Charles Walten Files', forgetting that his full name is not public information yet.

-Martin says that if there was anything he would change about The Walten Files, he'd make Bon less adjacent to Bonnie from Five Nights at Freddy's. He says he wishes he'd made Bon a dog named Ringo, and that the name "Ringo" has a specific lore reason behind it (Unrelated to. The Beatles.)

-Martin talks about how when he first named Bon's Burgers, he thought he was being really clever, because in French "Bon" means "Good", so it was like calling it "Good Burgers".

-Someone asks what Martin would rename Bon's Burgers to if Bon's name had been different, and he says he'd call it "Wonderland".

-Martin gives a story about him actually seriously injuring himself opening a can of Palmitos, slicing his palm open and needing to get stitches, but how the main thing he was worried about was it keeping him from releasing TWF4 on time, and how he was really scared of the fan reaction of like, 'he always fucking does this, he always delays the episode', before he talked to some friends and calmed down about it. This all happened like less than a week ago. He tells everyone not to worry to much about it, that he's still in some pain, but he's fine.

-Someone asks about the "Bontest", the contest where people could submit their original characters to appear briefly in TWF4, and Martin says that he plans to work on it last, as a reward for himself.

-Someone asks if a Welcome to Bon's Burgers remake could ever happen, Martin answers: "No. I would have wanted to, but I'm really trying to stay, like, legally distinct from Five Nights at Freddys. So no more Welcome to Bon's Burgers, ever."

-Martin asks Kyle, "Is Charles mean? or nice?" and Kyle says he thinks Charles has like. Fun Uncle energy. That he's the sort of person you'd maybe think was mean, but that he's ultimately pretty silly and laid-back. He calls him the type of person to doodle in the margins of his work.

-Someone asks if Boozoo is a magician or a ringmaster, and Martin says that he is both. When he's not on stage, he falls into the ringmaster persona, but when he's performing he's doing magic tricks and the like. He switches between both.

-"Boozoo has a mechanism where he can take off his hat, and there's a very tiny plush rabbit in his hat"

-"Will we ever get to know how Jenny and Sophie met and/or became a couple?" "Yes. We will see it in the series, I have the whole thing planned out. Yippie!"

-Martin talks about how when making WTBB, he went through a phase where he really hated Banny, and took her out of the game. Then he was like, fuck, I need a new girl character, and that's why he created Sha.

-"Who has been your favorite character to develop personality-wise and role-wise?" "Felix Kranken. I fucking love but I fucking hate Felix kranken... I feel like the viewer keeps indirectly giving Felix chances, like, to make things right. And you will see how he uses those chances."

-Someone asks for a Felix Fact, and Kyle jokes that he smells bad. Martin says he disagrees, and that he thinks Felix smells like car air freshener.

-Actual Felix Fact: He loves Louis Wain's paintings, and has many in his office. Martin says he really connects with the story around them, and that he also feels a deep connection to cats.

-"How many takes did the phone call in BunnyFarm take to get right? Was the wavering in Jack's voice before he got angry intentional?" "It took three takes and yeah, yes it was. I did one take that was like, screaming angry, and another one was very whispery, and then i got the version that was used." They talk for a bit and then Martin goes "I think Jack here like, works best when he's not like, exaggerated, but you can tell that he's on the verge of just-- punching you fucking skull, but he doesn't like, explode. And it's this tension of like, when will we see this character like, genuinely lose his mind, yknow?"

-Someone asks if Bon could ever learn to like or be nice to Banny, and Martin says that if the showstoppers had any kind of linear story then he would probably grow to be nicer to her eventually, but because they're in like an episodic thing where everything resets, he's just gonna hate her forever

-Linda Lore: This isn't necessarily canon, but Martin kinda imagines that she'd move out of hurricane after only a couple of weeks because it's such a ghost town, so she moves to Nashville end ends up starting a family there and having two children.

-My question! I asked Kyle and Martin what musicians/bands they listen to. Kyle lists Gorillaz, Tally Hall, and Tenacious D. Martin lists MF Doom, Tyler, the Creator, and Canserbero.

-Martin mentions an incident with Bon's Burgers where a guy showed up and stood on a table demanding to eat pizza, and stayed there for 20 hours demanding to eat pizza.

-Martin imagines a funny scenario where Charles' car breaks down on the way to work and Jack gives him a ride. Charles asks to listen to some music, and Jack starts playing "obscure 30s music", and Charles is like, "what the fuck?", while Jack is bobbing his head like he's listening to heavy metal.

-Someone asks if there's any Autistic characters in The Walten Files, and Kyle brings up his personal headcanon that both Sophie and Jenny have autism, but that Jenny has it comorbid with ADHD. Martin mentions that it's actually canon that Charles has ADHD, and how it was one of the first things he decided on for his character.

-Kyle specifically asks if there's any Walten Files characters Martin can imagine being Autistic, and Martin gives a long answer I've written out as follows:

"Okay, so, this is really complicated, but the episode 5 draft is finished, and I sent it to Eva, and- this episode has a bigger focus on Sophie, episode 5, and I think a lot of things- Eva- I talked a lot about it with Eva, and she mentioned how Sophie, was like, had many many traits that imply that she is autistic.

And, while I said yes, that the intention was to like, sorta allude to it? I would never confirm it because I wouldn't be able to represent it properly. I would never be able to fully represent it, because it's not an experience I've gone through. But there's a lot of like, unintentional double meaning with Autism, with like, what's going on in her head and how like, she behaves, in a way?

But I feel like, from what Eva told me, from her experience as an Autistic person, she told me it was a really good representation, for like, the character. Even if it wasn't intentional, because she's never represented as like, mentally unstable, or not fit to, like-not competent... But you can still see some of her personal struggles in her behavior."

-They talk for a while about how Kyle likes to think that Boozoo is gay, but he's not especially a fan of the relatively popular ship between him and Bon. Martin says that a better Boozoo ship idea could maybe be Pete the Hippo, provided that the recasted his VA.

-On the same topic, Martin agrees that Boozoo and Bon would be a bad ship idea, because he doesn't like the idea of Bon being with anybody who he treats poorly, and how this is the reason why he really tries to be nice to Sha, even if he isn't especially good at it. Martin mentions that the thing that really makes Bon like Sha is that she's the one person who can really tell him off, and for a while he was a little scared of her.

-Martin talks about a funny showstoppers story he's thought of, where Banny gets a crush on a girl from school and Boozoo and Sha help her work up the courage to ask her out, but the girl is just so unapologetically mean to Banny and totally breaks her heart, and so all the showstoppers come to defend Banny, and they go and beat up this teenager on her behalf.

-Someone asks for a "Susan Fun Fact" but typos it as "Susan Gun Fact". Martin says that Susan would think that the American attitude towards guns and gun control is one of the things most wrong with the United States. Kyle says it'd be funny if she was the type to believe that, but then own a gun anyway.

-Martin says that he really loves Susan's voice, and thinks it's so perfect for her character.

#the walten files #like the entire second half of the stream was just them making stupid noises at each other and i don't feel like listening to that again #so i'm missing some things here but whatever

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punkflower11 · 10 months

Text

Choose Your Own Adventure: Miles Morales - Part 4

Prev | Master List

————

"So, Hobie," Jefferson addresses the teen. "How are your parents?"

Miles whisked the fingers of his fork round his bowl, half-hardheartedly scooping grains of rice from the side of the dish. Currently wedged between his parents and fake Boyfriend, Miles sat present at the doom's day dinner. So far, the two parties seemed to be cooperating, but Miles knew better than to mix water with electricity and hope for the best.

"Great Chief, cemetery’s real comfy this time 'round year."

Sensitive topic right off the bat and Hobie was already pulling no punches. As a suffocating silence followed, Miles felt himself shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"Oh." Jefferson blinks. Then, "Sorry to hear that." Help.

Wasn't this was painfully awkward. Miles fixed his gaze on his table knife and began to silently contemplate the cons of ending it all.

"'S'fine mate." and it was, until Jefferson decided that Miles still hadn't suffered enough.

"Where do you live then?" What was this, twenty questions?

"Around." Hey, it could have been worse. Thankfully Hobie didn't seem too irritated by the inquiry. He could have instead gone What are you, a cop? in which, Jefferson would have to regretfully inform Hobie that he was in fact, a cop.

Oh god. Miles hadn't even thought of that. If Hobie knew that he was having dinner with a cop he would definitely flip his shit. No amount of damage control could save Miles from the ticking time bomb.

Yeah, he's screwed.

"Around where?"

Okay, was this guy for real?

"Dad, don’t."

"Why not? It's an important question." Rio cuts in.

"It's just, how is this even relevant?"

"Nah, s'alright." Hobie shrugs. "I live in and out of my brother's flat." Well Halle-fucking-lujah. Somebody give this man a medal. Savior of the stupid and very very unfortunate (See: Miles).

"And he's okay with all..." Jefferson gestures vaguely at Hobie's attire. "This?"

"'Course mate. Why wouldn't 'e be?"

"No reason, just-"

"Just what?"

"So Hobie," Rio swoops in, saving her husband. "Where did you meet Miles?"

Yes Miles, who is smiling sweetly at Hobie. Called it.

"Alchemax, uh we-" Miles begins to cough violently.

"…during a field trip."

"You and Miles are in the same class?" Miles' sees his Mom's eyebrows jump. Hobie scoffs.

"What, never seen a tall person before?" For that he kicks Hobie underneath the table. Hard.

"No. I was, ah, interning." Jefferson nods his head in pleasant surprise.

"That’s nice," He says. "Good to see you're focused on the future." He looks to Miles, who is trying his hardest not to roll his eyes.

"Are you in a gang?" Rio asks abruptly.

"What? No he’s not! Woman who do you think he is?"

"To be fair love, if I was I then probably wouldn’t tell you." Hobie points out.

"Not helping Hobie." Surrendering, the other picks up his spoon.

"What about a band? You look like you're in a band."

"Sometimes." Hobie replies thoughtfully through a mouth full of food.

"Oh? What do you play?"

"Men."

"What?"

Midway through a drumstick, Miles chokes.

"…but usually guitar." Smooth recovery.

"Edgy. I played trombone in high school."

Satisfied, Rio then turns to Jefferson.

"How was work today?"

"Slow. There was a chase on 49th, but it ended pretty quick."

And just because the universe was a fucking jerk:

"Hold on," Oh no.

"You're a cop?" Shit.

"Yeah, didn't Miles tell you?" Double Shit.

Any hope that the two would get along had quickly been eradicated. The only thing that Hobie hated more than a corrupt government were the people running the corrupt government. No way in hell was he was letting this go.

Astonished, Hobie looked at the man in disbelief. Before he could start on the other, Miles took action.

Okay, time to diffuse this conversation.

#across the spiderverse #punkflower #choose your own adventure #updates daily!#polls

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milimeters-morales · 9 months

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this edit is sooo fucking relevant with the shit Miguel spouted at miles

#miles morales #spiderman #spider man #aaron davis #the prowler #peter parker #jefferson davis #<- feels wrong to use that tag kinda #he was davis here #m&m posts

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iqueenlost · 9 months

Text

Part 3/5 of my Andreil fake dating au

Check Part 1 Part 2

Buckle up guys!

@dreamerthinker @folkit @lalalaets @julesghouls98 @tesadoraofphaedra @objectifymecaptain @holyshitthatsilegal @ourshadowstars @bumpingbees @madrasiiuvu @lillyndra @themundanemudperson

---------

In anticipation for the date he planned to take Andrew Neil didn't have a good night of sleep. Too much energy coursing through his body begging to be let out. So as soon as the sun began to peek on the horizon Neil got up and went on a run, hoping that it would make him less jumpy until Andrew was ready to get up. He planned to let him sleep in and rest from all the long nights he pulled in the last month.

After running almost the double of miles he usually did in the mornings and still having not wasted half of his energy, he stopped at the cat cafe to kill time until it was close enough to a reasonable hour to get Andrew out of bed. When it was almost nine he began to make his way back to the apartment after buying Andrew his favorite heart attack inducing cocotion.

The apartment was silent and dark and Andrew was still asleep when he stumbled in a few minutes later, so he busied himself with showering and having breakfast. He had just put on some music at a low volume and was scrolling through his social media for a while, checking what his friends and students were up to, when his phone rang.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Neil chanted while trying to pick up the call or just turn off the damn sound before Andrew woke up with all the noise.

Uncle Stuart's name read on the screen. “Why are you calling so early?” Neil asked when he finally picked it up.

“Oh, I thought I would check on you. As I always do. On every Saturday. It’s not like you dont wake before sunrise anyway.” He said, sarcasm dripping from his rasping voice.

“Andrew’s sleeping.” Neil said in a hushed tone, as if he spoke in a normal volume Andrew would wake up, even though his room was on the far end of the corridor and the farthest from the kitchen.

“Are you in his bed perhaps?” Stuart wondered.

“What?” Neil squeaked, heat tracking down his neck. Just what the heck was Stuart thinking? “Of course not.”

“Of course,” He repeated dully. “Then it doesn't have any relevance.”

Neil clicked his tongue, his finger tapping on the counter in annoyance. “Good to know you’re still an arse.”

“It’s genetic, as you may know.”

That seemed in fact to be the case, Neil couldn't count the times he had relished in being difficult just for the sake of being difficult, and Stuart was one of his preferred victims.

“I hate you.” Neil said, without any heat in his tone.

From the other side Stuart sighed and Neil heard a door opening and closing.

“So you have said, multiple times. It’s almost like being back in time.”

“Did you want anything or just be a pain in the ass?” He asked as he crossed his arms, a frown settling between his brows.

“A little respect would be good.”

“Sorry, we’re out of those.” He smirked.

Stuart sighed and Neil smirk transformed into a full-fledged smile.

��Anyway, Lisa wants to know if you are coming for Christmas.”

Lisa was Uncle Stuart’s platonic life partner, they have been living together since Neil’s senior year. They had met when Stuart traveled to Australia for a work conference and instantly hit it off. They were the closest thing to soulmates Neil had ever seen and the fact that they didn't need to have a sexual relationship to be happy together had once been a comfort to Neil.

“Christmas’ still weeks away.” Neil voiced in doubt.

“You know her and her infatuation with the damn holiday.” Neil could almost see the frown on Stuart's face from his tone. For all his grouchiness about Christmas, or any other holiday for that matter, he always went along with whatever Lisa wanted to do.

“Tell her I have to check with Andrew.”

Andrew used to go to England with Neil instead of spending the holiday with his brother as Aaron spent Christmas with Katelyn's family. It had started before Nick moved back from Germany with Eric, so it was convenient for Andrew to make the trip down to Germany and spend the New Year with them. The last two years though since Nick had come back Andrew opted for not going and Neil had been a little less excited to visit Stuart and spent weeks away from him.

“You do know you can come without him, right? It’s you she wants to fawn over, not him.”

“I know–”

“Your codependency is getting worse and worse,” Stuart interrupted. “And you haven’t even won him over yet”

“I’m hanging up.” Neil announced, suddenly annoyed with the conversation.

He heard Stuart clicking his tongue as he complained. “It’s like you don’t even respect me anymore.”

“Never really did, it shouldn’t be a surprise.” Neil sassed back.

“Bog off, you pratt.” He said, hanging up himself and Neil laughed.

Sometimes he really missed Stuart, even though when Stuart chose to go back to England in Neil’s sophomore year of college Neil had felt like he was gaining freedom. Stuart tended to worry and hover too much about him after they found their foot on their relationship and became closer. It had taken some time but by the time Neil was seventeen he and Uncle Stuart had developed a special bond. Neil was grateful Stuart had chosen to take him instead of dropping him in the foster system, even though he had to uproot his life in England to take care of him. Neil knew he would not have the life he had now had Stuart made a different choice back then. He would never have met Andrew or his other friends. He couldn't imagine the path his life would have taken then.

He got up to put his plate on the sink when Andrew’s voice came from behind him, making him jump a little. “You Uncle?”

Neil turned back smiling brightly at him. “You up! I thought you would sleep in today.”

“Uhm.” Andrew hummed before going for the coffee machine.

“I brought you coffee.” Neil pointed to the to-go cup on the counter. “Or should I call it dessert.” He grinned.

Andrew made a gimme gesture opening and closing his hand. He looked soft, having just woken up, with hair sticking up in all directions, eyes only half open and a sleep line running down his left cheek.

Neil could feel that he was smiling as he observed the softness on Andrew’s face and marveled at the domesticity of their life. A few years ago when they met –Neil had just moved to Palmetto and started his sophomore year– if someone had told him he would fall in love with Andrew he would’ve laughed hard at them. At that time Neil could see no light in sight. Even one year after the trial his father’s shadow still blocked every little speck of light from reaching him and the fact that his mother casted him aside and fled their nightmare without him was still a oozing infected wound in his chest impeding him from ever thinking of trusting someone again. To this day he still didn't know where she was and deep down he hoped she would never return, there was some hurt that time couldn’t heal.

He felt the smile on his face slip away at the prick of pain that shot to his heart. Andrew took a step in Neil's direction, gaze locked on him as he placed his now empty cup on the counter beside Neil “What is wrong?” He asked in a concerned tone that no one but Neil would have been able to perceive.

There it was again, Andrew superpower was his ability to read Neil microexpression. “Nothing, just thinking.” Neil smiled sadly. “About how time flies, it seems like it was yesterday you were threatening to kick me down the school’s roof.”

That’s where they met for the first time. Neil hiding from everyone and from his hurt and Andrew skipping a class he thought was dreadful to smoke on the roof.

Andrew's nose wrinkled. “Don't get sentimental on me.”

“Oh, you know me. Love to reminisce.” Neil smiled wide at him. “Breakfast?” He changed the subject as he walked to the fridge. “We need to go grocery shopping sometime soon, can you on Monday? I have classes only in the morning.”

“Dick Dylan gave me a three-days’ leave, so I’m back only on Thursday.”

Dick Dylan, who was actually named Richard Dylan O'Connell, was what Andrew called his boss, the district attorney. They had started with the wrong foot when Andrew first got the job but although they now had a decent work relationship the nickname stuck.

“That's good,” Neil said. “Scrambled eggs?” He asked, already taking the egg carton out and looking back to see Andrews nod.

They worked together like a well oiled machine to make Andrew’s breakfast as Neil had already eaten. Afterwards they moved it plus armfuls of snacks and Andrew’s favorite flavor of ice cream to the living room to watch tv for the next few hours.

Neil dropped to the couch and put his feet on the coffee table getting comfortable. “What are we watching?” He asked as he turned the TV on with the remote. For his delight Andrew chose to sit right beside him instead of moving to the end of the couch.

“Anime,” was Andrew's response so Neil chose a random anime from the most watched list from their streaming platform.

That was how they spent most weekends that Andrew didn't have to work. Jumping from show to show until they found something binge worthy that led to hours in front of the TV. But today Neil had a plan. First he had to flirt with Andrew and then convince him to go on a date. So, even though he felt like a teenager, half way through the second episode of the bloody ghost horror anime they had landed on he stretched his arms out and put it on the backrest of the couch being careful to not touch Andrew as he gauged at his reaction.

Neil’s heart said goodbye to life when Andrew glanced at him for a minute before adjusting his position so he was now leaning a little into Neil’s arm, almost cuddling. He had to remind himself that he had been this close to Andrew before and that just because he was feeling different about it, it didn’t necessarily mean Andrew did as well.

Over the years Andrew had become more and more comfortable with touch. He still had days where he couldn't stand the feeling of someone close to him let alone putting their hands on his body, but there were days where he accepted a pat on the shoulder from Aaron or hugs from Nicly, Renee and Bee. Neil was in another whole category, Neil was the only person Andrew ever let lay down next to him without moving away.

Sometimes Neil felt guilty, Andrew trusted him enough to let his guard down with him yet every time he did Neil thought about touching him or kissing him. Someday Neil felt dirty that he would even think of that while knowing everything Andrew went through, that he would even think of that when Andrew had no idea what he was imagining in his messed up mind. Although he would never hurt Andrew and he always asked if Andrew was okay when he touched him, he still felt guilty. He tried telling himself that it was different. He loved Andrew, always had and always would, his feelings for him went above just lust or sexual attraction. He was pretty sure he only desired Andrew because he loved him. So he asked every time he wanted to take and never took what Andrew couldn't give him. That’s why he needed to confess, to see if Andrew also wanted him. Whatever Andrew wanted he would give without a second thought even if what he wanted was for Neil to go away.

“Can I touch your hair?” He asked when the credits of the episode rolled up. When Andrew looked up at him blankly he spoke again. “Yes or no, Andrew?”

“Yes.” Andrew breathed, voice so small and unlike his unapologetic and monotone way of speaking. As if he also felt the pent up tension in the air. As if he also was bracing himself for what it all could mean. Neil asked himself if it was possible that Andrew finally catched up to what was really going on here.

Time seemed to slow down and the air between them crackled with electricity as Neil moved the arm around Andrew’s shoulder so he could slip his fingers into Andrew’s soft hair. Neil felt Andrew shudder when his fingernails scratched very lightly at his scalp. The whole time Andrew’s never strayed from Neil’s. His intense golden eyes piercing through Neil as if he was reading Neil’s soul and figuring out all his secrets. After years of being invisible and overlooked, being known had an addictive thrill to it.

The loud opening music from the anime startled them out of the moment they were having and Andrew gaze moved back to the TV where it stayed glued to the screen. Neil bit down on his lower lip to avoid laughing out loud but his finger never stopped moving, feeling up and down the length of the locks on the top of Andrew’s head.

They watched two more episodes while Neil continued fondling Andrew’s hair, before Neil finally proposed the idea to Andrew. “We’re going out today.” He said, barely containing his enthusiasm. “On a date.”

“Why would we?” Andrew asked, looking extremely cozy in his nest of blankets and cushions and head now fully placed on Neil’s shoulder. He had to turn his head to look up at Neil’s eyes. Their faces were close enough that if Neil bent his head a little their lips would touch.

“Because our friends are coming for dinner and we have to act like a couple so we should do coupley things, like a date.” He said innocently, even when his mind supplied him with the memory of Allison telling him that the two of them already acted like a married couple.

But that wasn’t relevant now, today he would blow Andrew’s mind with an unforgettable date that would ruin all other dates for Andrew, making him completely captivated by only Neil and no one else. Then his only choice would be to date Neil. Bold statement, Neil was aware of it, but what he lacked in experience he made up in determination.

“That doesn't make any sense, and they’re your friends.” Andrew rebutted, sadly moving away from Neil's embrace.

“Renee’s coming,” He pointed out. “And she’s been your friend and sparring buddy long before I even joined the group.”

“I still see no correlation.” Andrew stated seriously and a small smile blossomed on Neil’s lips. Renee was the only one Andrew never denied being friends with. It was cute actually, the bond between them.

“We’re going," Neil insisted, hitting Andrew with the best puppy eyes he could muster. “We can have breakfast food for lunch or a dessert feast, just like when we were in college.”

Andrew looked at him in silence before sighing. “You're paying.”

“Of course.” Neil grinned. “What kind of date would I be if I didn’t. I let you know I was raised right.”

He hadn’t and Andrew knew that but what was important was that he had a whole plan thought out, starting with lunch at a nice bistro that had opened recently and looked really good when he passed it on the way to work. It was right next to a used bookstore that was obscure enough that it would probably be almost empty and allow them to browse for books in peace after lunch. Then they would walk to a roller rink, where Neil would teach Andrew how to roller skate. It would be the perfect opportunity to get close and touch him without making Andrew uncomfortable. It was also a good opportunity to get Andrew to maybe kiss him. It was going to be perfect and by the end of the day Andrew and him would be a true couple.

— — —

The truth was that things started to deviate from the plan the moment Andrew and Neil arrived at the bistro. Trip there was good, they talked and listened to Andrew emo rock road trip playlist, Andrew even sang along to the lyrics with Neil. But when they were just about to enter the bistro a voice called out for Neil. “Yo, Mr. Josten.” The boy –that Neil recognized as being Ajax– hurrying over to them said cheerily. “Yo, Mr. Josten’s friend.” He added nodding at Andrew.

Neil did not want to meet some from school right now, in fact it was the last thing that he wanted to happen that day.

“Ajax.” Neil said flatly, sending dagger Ajax’s way in hope he would get the memo and scram.

The little shit grinned with an evil glint in his eyes. Neil was sure he got the memo and didn't leave just to annoy him. “Are you guys going in? Can I join you guys? I haven’t eaten yet and I’m hungry.” He circled his arms over his belly dramatically.

Andrew shrugged and went into the bistro. Ajax sent Neil a little wink before following him in. Neil pinched the bridge of his nose, a vein pulsing in his temple. What the hell? He was sure some entity in hell was laughing at him right now but in the end Neil had no other choice but enter the bistro following behind Ajax and Andrew.

Neil had passed this bistro numerous times and always thought it looked good from the outside. As for the inside, the first thing he noticed when he entered was that the place was really nice, with warm light wood flooring, cushioned chairs and cabinets in a mint color, dark wood tables and a lot of plants distributed throughout the space. The window that faced the street had tall windows that let in natural light. Neil didn’t know much about decor but he liked the homey feeling of this place.

Andrew chose a table with four chairs on the far end of the room beside one of the windows and Ajax sat down on the chair on Andrew's left, backing the rest of the restaurant, so Neil chose to sit on the chair directly in front of Andrew.

He turned to Ajax as soon as he was seated trying his best to not sound too grump. “What are you doing here?”

“My father was supposed to spend the day with me but he left half-way through brunch because Tara called and said Eli didn’t feel so good. It’s probably a lie because she doesn’t like him spending time with us. I mean, me specifically, I look too much like my mother for her liking.

Neil never met or saw a photo of Ajax's mother, she’d died when Ajax was seven and apparently his dad burned everything she owned and every photo in a fit of grief-stricken anger –at least that's what Jason had info dumped on Neil in the beginning of the school year. It was a fact though that Ajax was very different from the rest of his blonde-haired, green-eyed family. Ajax's hair was a mess of oak brown curls on top of his head and his baby blue eyes always looked bright with amusement, even when he was feeling down. His sharp features were all angles and almost no softness, making him look like a mischievous elf.

He was shorter than Neil, about Andrew height but Neil could tell he had some growing up to do. He was ready to bet that next year Ajax would go through a growth spurt and come back to school much taller than Neil, it was all in the hands and feet, that were disproportionately large for his small body.

Neil cleaned his throat not knowing the appropriate way of reacting. If this was about one of his friends he could shit talk the other party to his heart's content but Ajax was his student. He couldn’t very well talk like that about his students' parents even though some of them deserved it, so he chose to change the subject. “Ajax, this is Andrew.”

Ajax turned to observe Andrew with sharp eyes. “You the guy that picked up Mr. Josten yesterday.”

“Very observant of you.” Andrew replied and Ajax narrowed his eyes trying to determine if Andrew was mocking him.

“How do you know Mr. Josten?”

“From high school.”

“Are you a teacher as well? Don't look like it.”

“From when he was in high school.” Andrew clarified. “And what does a teacher look like?”

“Wow! That's ages ago.” Neil did not appreciate the jab, he was 26, that was hardly old. “ And I don't know, boring?” Ajax shrugged.

“Hey!” Neil exclaimed, offended. First old and now boring? He did not look boring, not at all.

Andrew smirked a little. “Well, thank you.”

“So…” The boy asked as he placed his elbow on the table. “What do you do?”

“Is this 20 questions?” Neil was close to having an aneurysm. He glared at Ajax, forgetting that he had sympathized with him a moment ago, and begged the boy to take a hint in his mind. “And if yes it should be me asking, as this is my date.

“This is a date? I couldn’t tell.” He directed big, innocent doe eyes at them.

“Do you enjoy annoying me?” By the glint on Ajax's eyes Neil was pretty sure the answer was yes.

“I just surprised you interested in dating.” He turned back to Andrew as he explained. “When the year had just started a few girls asked Mr. Josten if he had a girlfriend. When he said no they asked if he had a boyfriend e do you know what he said?” Ajax inclined over the table top in Andrew’s direction with an eager expression, as if confiding a secret.

“Do tell me.” Andrew said and Ajax paused, unsure if he was really interested in hearing the story. It was clear Andrew's monotone was confusing to him, but still he wouldn’t pass the chance to make fun of Neil. Maybe Neil should be more distant with his students but he enjoyed being the favorite teacher even though the least liked teacher most often than not was the one that taught math. He liked being a contradiction.

“He said he didn’t swing.” Ajax laughed. “Do you believe it? I could hear their heart breaking”

“He’s been saying that for years.”

“Why did you even agree to go on a date with him?” He pointed at Neil with his head as if he couldn't fathom why Andrew would want to.

“He accosted me while we watched anime.” Andrew replied and Ajax nodded in understanding. He was just about to say something else when the waitress reached their table to take their order.

“My name’s Jenny and I will be your waitress for today. What can I get you guys?” She asked in a cheerful way and with a pleasant smile.

She turned slightly to Neil and she presented him with the menu along with a bat of her eyes but Neil didn't give her a second look and immediately passed the menu on to Andrew, who arched a brow at the situation before taking it

“Can you order something for us?” He asked before looking at Ajax. “Ajax, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Neil then led Ajax to a corner of the bistro close to the entrance. “Ajax, I like you a lot, kid, but God help me if you don't go away I’ll make sure you don't graduate from high school forever. I’m trying to do something here.”

“Relax, Mr. Josten. I didn’t intend to really crash your date with Loverboy anyway, I was just having some fun getting under your skin.

“Good, bye then.” Neil turned to go back to his and Andrew’s table but Ajax spoke again. “Make sure to say only good things to Jason at the next teacher-parents meeting. No bullying stuff to be mentioned.”

Neil made a face but at Ajax’s arched eyebrow he nodded. It would depend on what the other kids were doing to Ajax when the time came. He was alway a liar at heart anyway, one more one less wouldn't make a difference at this point, so he promised away.

When he returned to the table Andrew glanced up from the menu. “You didn't need to send him away. It’s not like this is a real date.”

It hurt a little that Andrew was shrugging off every one of Neil's hints and not seeing this as a real date. Neil didn't know if Andrew was just that oblivious or if this was his way of letting Neil down gently. Was he not being clear enough that he wanted Andrew in his pants? Better yet that he wanted Andrew’s heart because his heart had beaten only for Andrew’s for years now?

Neil forced a laugh before saying. “Ajax is a great kid, but I’m not sure how to act when I meet students out of school. Besides, this is our test drive.”

“Test drive?” Andrew arched an eyebrow at that.

“Yes, if we convince everyone we meet that we are a couple we can convince our friends too.”

“That’s a flawed logic.” Andrew pointed out. “Our friends have known us for years. Those people don’t know how we usually act.”

Neil gave Andrew his brightest smile. “Our friends,” he emphasized. “Thought we were a couple for years.”

Andrew's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arm, leaning back on the chair as he observed Neil like he was the weirdest creature on the planet. “Then what is the point of today?”

“You’ll know soon enough. Now, what did you order? Are we doing breakfast at lunch, just dessert or what?”

In the end they did not order breakfast food but had pasta instead, along with half the dessert menu. When they were getting ready to leave another unpredictable situation arose. Their waitress, who Neil had not given much thought to during their time there, thought it was a good idea to hit on Neil when he was clearly on a date.

They were preparing to leave and Neil had waived to her so she could bring them their bill when she passed him a note with her phone number and a kiss mark to him instead. “Call me if you want to have fun sometime?” She drawled out in what Neil thought was an attempt at a sultry voice. A poor one at that, 0 out 10. Not attractive at all.

He gave her a polite closed lip smile before saying as he nodded his head at Andrew. “I don't think my boyfriend would like that very much.”

“Oh, I'm not jealous, your boy can come too.” She chuckled lightly at her own joke as her hand went up to Neil’s arms and stroked it. Neil faltered at her lack of senses before he tried to shrink away from her touch. Yeah, Neil would not be coming back to this restaurant. Which was a pity, he’d liked the ambience and the food had been really good but staff that didn't get boundaries was a turn off.

Andrew's face got dark the second the blonde waitress put her hands on Neil and he slammed his fist at the table, growling when the waitress looked back at him with wide eyes. She was trembling, Neil noticed.

“I suggest you keep your hands to yourself if you don’t want to lose it.” He threatened. His expression was so vicious that he looked like an avenging angel passing on due judgment to an insignificant mortal. That Neil could attest was a turn on.

“We would like the check now.” Neil informed the spooked waitress, he couldn't even remember her name. “If she acts like this with everyone who comes here for a date she’s not getting much tips.” He said out loud when she went away at an admirable speed.

“Don’t act like you dont have a mirror at home.” Andrew said evenly, the cold anger in his eyes slowly disappearing.

“Is that your way of saying you think I'm pretty?” Neil asked, batting his eyelashes at Andrew . “Well, thank you, love.”

“Lets get the fuck out of here before I get indigestion.” He changed the subject without denying, which made Neil immensely happy.

— — —

After leaving the bisto they moved to the bookstore next door, that part of the date unfolded like Neil expected at least. The bookstore was almost empty and they spent their time there browsing the shelves and reading while laying on one of the couches. In the end Andrew brought six books and Neil found two books that looked interessant so wrote down the titles so he could buy the audiobooks as he hardly had the patience for reading but liked hearing the stories while he was running or working out at the gym.

“What did you buy?” He asked Andrew when they walked out of the store.

“Two thrillers, one fantasy book, one horror comic and two books about legal matters regarding child and family law.”

When they reached the parking lot they stopped by the maserati so Andrew could throw in the paper bag with his new books before continuing to walk to their next location as it was close enough. Neil looked at Andrew's hand intensely until Andrew sighed and offered it up to him. Neil smiled softly and held Andrew’s hand.

“I thought you weren't interested in child and family law.” Neil commented.

“Bee offered me a job at her non-profit.” He said. “It would be a step down in terms of pay, but–” He cut himself with a sigh. Neil could tell he was feeling conflicted about it.

Andrew had told Neil about Betsy's non-profit. She had always been involved in some kind of charity but last year she had begun her own dedicated to helping abused kids and or parents. They offered free counseling and basic medical help, legal counsel and shelter to those who found themself in need.

“Are you sure you want to work there?” Neil asked in concern and Andrew scowled at him. “I’m serious Andrew, this last month was difficult, with Georgie case and everything. Working at Betsy’s non-profit would put you in constant contact with children in home situations like that.”

“It’s a good cause,” was all he said, eyes casted down so Neil wouldn't get a good read at them. But Neil knew how to read Andrew even if he was avoiding his eyes.

“I know, and I think the work she’s doing is admirable –Hell, I was a kid in a difficult home situation once– but you have to think what is best for you. Can you cope with it without it triggering you, hurting you? It’s not the time to be altruistic at the expense of yourself. You taught me that.”

“It would be good if I were to foster in the future.” He uttered.

Neil was so shocked by that statement that he tripped on his feet and would have fallen if Andrew hadn't pulled him back by the grip he had on Neil’s hand.

Neil looked at Andrew with wide eyes, mouth hanging up. “You want to foster?” He gulped while he waited for Andrew to responde. This had never been something Andrew had remotely alluded to before.

“I thought about it. I don't know if I could with– with my record, but hell if I know. People of worse history have become foster parents before.”

“You would be great at it, I'm sure.” Neil squeezed his hand. “You have alway been a caregiver.”

Andrew scoffed but said nothing more.

They walked in silence for a little before Neil spoke again, “I’m going to support you in whatever you decide, you know that, right?” Andrew hummed. “I meant it Andrew, I'm here and I'm not going away, as long as you want me here.”

Andrew looked down to their hands clasped together before nodding. Neil directed him a smile, hoping it would convey everything he couldn't say yet. He even allowed himself to imagine a life where he and Andrew foster or adopted together. He loved Stuart and was immensely grateful for him but the time he spent in his care wasn't what he could call home, even when Lisa had come along. And Neil desperately wanted it, deep down he knew he wanted the picket fence dream, and he wanted it with Andrew. That thought made him even more determined to end this date on a high note.

He had high hopes when he walked into their last location, the roller rink. The place was new, only about six months since the it’s inauguration. He had heard about it from a few people and Allison and Renee had a date there that Alisson described as one of their best ones yet. Neil waggered it would be a good place for their date, with good activities to do together, good junk food, and good music. It had few points that could be counted as a con.

As soon as Neil walked in he was hit with the smell of buttered popcorn and cotton candy that brought Neil back to the time he skipped summer school class to go to the amusement park with Andrew before Andrew went on his university tour trip with Aaron and Katelyn. They were going to visit about six schools even though they most probably would go to USC. At that time he was about to begin his junior year, but he was determined to graduate early so he could join Andrew’s college the next year.

Neil, Aaron, Katelyn, Andrew and Kevin had decided to spend the day there before they all left on the next day. It would have been almost like a double date if it wasn't for Kevin. Back then he had spent half the time angry and jealous of Andrew and Kevin's relationship even though it was clear they were just friends. The second half was better as he convinced Andrew to slip away to go to a haunted house and lose the rest of them.

“Doesn't this remind you of that time we went to the amusement park?” He tugged at Andrew's hand, aiming a cheeky smile at him.

“The one you spent half the time arguing with Kevin.”

“What can I say, he was a pain in the ass back then.”

“This implies he isn't one now.”

Neil rolled his eyes at that and pointed to the counter next to the entrance. “Do you want to get us the skates?”

Andrew shrugged but walked over to the counter fishing his wallet from his tight skinny jeans’ pocket. Neil observed him go and tried to calm down a bit, now he needed courage and mentally prepared for what he needed to do. He was going to ask if Andrew wanted to kiss him any moment now.

“Oh, Mr. Josten,” A voice called out for him and Neil sighed. Please God, not now, he pleaded, but when he turned a middle aged woman stood in front of him. “ What a surprise to see you here.”

“Because us teachers never leave the school.” Neil mumbled under his breath, annoyed to meet yet another person who knows him. Is it too much to ask for people to pretend they don't know teachers when they see them in a social setting off school?

“What did you say?” She asked, oblivious to his annoyance.

“Nothing, it’s good to see you Mrs. Johnson. How is your husband? And Kate?”

“Good, good, just there, on the rink.” She pointed to the man in the red long sleeve jersey that could barely stand up in the skates and the teenage girl that was trying to hold him up in the midst of a laughing fit. “Too much of an adventure for me, you see. I could never.” She let out a high pitched giggle that went straight to Neil’s brain and caused a headache to begin to form. “Is this a friend of yours?” She pointed at Andrew who had returned to Neil's side with their skates frowning in judgment.

Off work Andrew was very different from his put together work look. He was wearing black skinny jeans with rips on both knees, a tight black short sleeve t-shirt and black combat boots. The tattoos on his forearms peeked out from beneath his black armbands, a pop of red from one of the roses, the only color on him aside from the strands of mussed light blond hair he didn’t bother to comb that morning after Neil’s finger had made it even more of a mess. He had also put on his many earrings, plus the black eyebrow piercing that stood out so much more due to the contrast with his blonde brows.

“You could say that,” Neil paused dramatically. “We’re roommates.” He snickered a little, almost a giggle, and raised an eyebrow at her but Mrs. Johnson didn't get the joke. Not a fan of bl fiction apparently.

Andrew rolled his eyes at Neil’s antics and didn't bother even saying anything to Mrs. Johnson. “Here your death-on-wheels.” He said passing one of the skates to Neil.

Neil directed another fake smile at Mrs. Johnson, who still observed them confused. “It was great seeing you, Mrs. Johnson, but we’re going to adventure ourselves on the rink.” With that he offered his hand to Andrew who after shrugging took it in his.

“Thank God you came back.” Neil said in a hushed tone. “It’s the second time we meet someone I know from school today. We should have snuggled on the couch and watched tv instead, at least it would be just the two of us.”

Neil was beginning to develop a hatred for small towns. They encountered someone at every corner. They stopped briefly at the entrance of the rink to put on their skates before joining the crowd, Neil taking to it with graceful ease and Andrew unsteadily managing to balance himself.

“Remember me, why the hell did I agree to do this?” He grunted.

“Because you think I'm charming.” Neil was starting to believe it to be true as Andrew alway went along with his crazy ideas.

“You’ll be the death of me, Josten.” He grumbled and held tight to Neil’s forearms as his legs threatened to give out on him.

“Come on. Hold on to me and everything’ll be fine.”

“I hate you.”

“You know, you've been saying that for years and I believe it less and less.” Neil chuckled.

“I’ll kill you in your sleep someday.” He threatened.

Neil’s brows went up and down in a suggestive way. “It would be easier if we divided a bed together.”

“Not happening.” Andrew scoffed at Neil.

“Don't knock it till you try it.” Neil said, bring Andrew closer to him. “Maybe sleeping with me is just what’s been missing from your life.” He whispered softly against Andrew’s hair.

“Can you shut up and keep us from falling and cracking our heads?” Andrew's voice came out rough and Neil's stomach made a cartwheel, a giddy smile rising in his face.

“Don’t worry if you fall I’ll catch you or fall with you. I’ve heard that falling together it's the best feeling.” Cheesy, Neil knew it but he couldn't stop now.

“What has got into you lately?” Andrew frowned and tried to move away to look at Neil’s face but when his skates started to slip and he almost lost balance he clanged to Neil again. “You been talking nonsense all your life but this is a new level even for you”

“I have never been more aware of what I say, Andrew. Every little word I'm saying right now means something and I would appreciate it if you pieced it together. But now put your hand on my waist.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Come on, we’re dancing, now pull me close like you meant it. Hold tight to me, darling.” He winked.

“There are parents here.” Andrew declared flatly. “And I sure as hell am not dancing on these things.” he motioned to the rollers.”

“So? It’s not like just because I’m a teacher I can’t have a personal life. If I want to dance in public with my boyfriend I can very well do that and screw what everyone else thinks.

“But I’m not,” he said evenly. “Truly your boyfriend.”

“For now I’m saying you are. You can act like that whenever you want, you can even kiss me.”

“That’s not funny, Neil.” Andrew's face grew cold as he peered at Neil.

“I thought we had already established that I don't have a sense of humor.”

“This fact becomes more and more evident.” He said, before mumbling so low that Neil almost didn't catch what he said. “Just like you becoming more and more cruel.”

Neil faltered for a moment. He couldn't understand what Andrew meant so he asked, “What does that mean?”

“Nothing for you to know.” Andrew dismissed with a flick of his hand.

Neil pondered over it for a moment but came to no conclusion so he just whirled then around the rink to the rhythm of a disco song avoiding the crazed teenagers that flew past them. Andrew's hands held tight to Neil in apprehension as if Neil was the only thing keeping him standing– which he pretty much was.

Neil was having the time of his life as he moved backward smiling the whole time. When they stopped in the center of the rink and a new song came on, Neil took the initiative to bend his head in Andrew's direction until their foreheads were touching, breath coming short at their proximity and heart pounding in his chest. He was going to kiss Andrew now. It would be magic, he could already tell just by the way fireworks ignited on his stomach and his heart somersaulted out of his chest cavite. His palms became umid with sweat and his mouth dried out, but he was going to do it anyway.

He leaned in, his mouth approaching Andrew’s until it was a hair away and waited for Andrew to pull away. When he didn’t, Neil went for it. Just as their lips were about to touch Neil heard a loud whistle above the music and a cacophony of voice yelling. “Get it, Mr. Josten.”

His head snapped back to where six of his students were pillowed on top of one another on the bleaches at one side of the rink laughing and pointing at him. He looked back at Andrew to find him with a vacant gaze and blank face two shades paler than usual, looking as if he was going to be sick or pass out.

To be honest Neil didn't remember the last time he cried but right now he wanted to cry from sheer frustration, he was so close. He just wanted this day to be about him and Andrew. But instead he encountered someone that knew him from school in every location he had planned. This was supposed to be the day he made Andrew his and instead he now had his school kids making fun of them and ruining their first kiss before it even happened.

“Let’s go home.” He sighed, at least at home it was just the two of them, well that is until Allison and the other arrived for dinner.

They scurried away from the rink still hearing the chant of the noisy teenagers and Neil vowed to make the rest of their senior year hell. He would squish every little spark of joy from them with surprise tests and impossible to complete assignments until they cried and begged for mercy.

The walk and drive back home was silent, a gloomy cloud of self-doubt and loathing hovering above Neil’s head that grew bigger with each passing minute. Why wasn’t Andrew saying anything? Neil was sure he noticed what he was going to do on the rink. Andrew hadn’t pushed him away or given any indication that he didn’t want Neil to proceed and kiss him. But maybe he had just been too shocked to react, he had looked the closest to terrified Neil had ever seen him after the kids began to goad them to kiss.

Neil waited in agony until they reached their apartment and stopped in the middle of the living room before turning back at Andrew and questioning him. “Do you like me? Like like-like me?” He said, immediately regretting it. Way to sound stupid on the most exhilarating and yet terrifying moment of his entire life.

Andrew blinked at him for one long, excruciating second before crossing his bulging arms. “What are we, twelve or something?”

Neil glared at him, a deep scowl on his face. “Stop deflecting Andrew, I need to know. I'm tired of waiting and waiting for you to piece it together.” His heart tumbled on a beat as he stepped closer to Andrew. He was going to do it, let it all out in the open. “I like you, Andrew, I’m head over heels for you.”

“Since when?” Andrew asked in an even voice and for the first time in their friendship Neil could not for the life of him read Andrew's face.

“I realized it on the day you left for your university touring trip. I still had two years until I could join you and the thought of not seeing you every day, even though you would be just a few hours away, terrified me. That was the sole reason why I applied to graduate early. But again when I think about it I guess I liked you way before that, I just didn't know what the feeling was at the time. Maybe even from the very first time I saw you. You just intrigued me so much”

“You’re ace, Neil.”

“That doesn't change what I feel for you. Asexuality is a spectrum Andrew. It has always been you for me.”

Andrew said nothing, his eyes panning around the room at everything but Neil. If this was a cartoon smoke would be coming out of his head. He was malfunctioning.

“Are you going to say something, I feel like I’m dying right now.” New voice cracked but Andrew still didn't look at him.

“I think this would be a bad idea.” Andrew started and Neil's heart broke in a million little pieces. His chest became a hallowed blackhole and he felt panic slamming over him like a wave threatening to drown him and lead him into nothingness.

This was a rejection. He put his heart on Andrew's hand and, even though he was sure Andrew would never purposely hurt him, he had just squeezed and crushed it until it no longer had any pulse. And the worst thing was that Neil himself broke their friendship ‒just like Andrew was breaking his heart‒ the moment he fell for his best friend. Now things would never be the same. It would be awkward and none of the easy understanding they had between them would be left, because right now Neil couldn't even look at Andrew without dying a little more inside.

He had hoped. But the thing about hope is that people are so enthralled by it that they forget its destructive power. And Neil hoped and then he forgot he was unlovable.

Andrew opened his mouth to say something else when the doorbell rang like the cry of a dying animal in the silence of their home.

----------

— Don't hate me guys —

— What do you all think is going to happen next? What does Andrew mean? —

— This one here was ambitious, by the end I had a 13 page document more than the last two part together. I spent so much time adding and editing stuff out. I cogitated splitting it in two parts to update earlier but decided not to. I think it turned out okay. Let me know what you guy think —

Check Part 4

#aftg #all for the game #andrew x neil #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #flirty neil josten #neil josten cant catch a break #my boy is trying #little bit of angst #fake dating au #oc character #fanfic

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