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#only put height labels on the dudes cause I could only be assed to find arcade's
bistevethor · 3 years
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Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations
Happy birthday, Steve!
I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.
Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.
Fics are under read more.
General
The Rocket's Red Glare
Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.
an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity
In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.
Baby Steve Adventures
Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.
Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)
"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.
In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson
A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”
The Truth When Captains Meet
Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.
Irish Coffee
Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers
Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.
The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)
What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?
Fifty-Two Pickup
Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.
little kids get big so fast
Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.
Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories
If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.
“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”
Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.
On Camping Trips
Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.
Powerful
Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.
His Dream
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.
"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."
"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.
"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.
The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."
Realization clicked in Sam's head.
"The gas de-serumed you."
Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.
OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.
A Strange Encounter
Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.
even if we're apart, i'll always be with you
Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.
As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.
Draw/Breath
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.
AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.
With Magic We Do Fly
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers
In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?
Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.
Just Like We Practiced
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers
Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.
Black and White but Red and Blue
They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.
"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."
The Road Warriors
Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff
It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.
We'll Fix It
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.
From Here On Out
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.
AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.
Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.
I have this breath and I hold it tight
Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision
Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”
Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.
to you.
Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark
It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.
New Love
Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers
Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.
Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.
I'm Fine
Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.
dogpile
"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."
Alone In This World (Together)
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson
“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”
“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”
“Once night falls.”
Do we have any idea where she is?”
“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”
it gets the worst at night
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.
(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)
Shelter
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.
Princely Bickering
Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor
Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.
And The Seconds Tick Down
AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.
"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping
Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers
Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.
A Tune Without Words
Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.
Purpose
Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.
Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.
Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.
Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff
The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.
Three Awakenings
The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.
Making Your Own Future
Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.
Better Living Through Pizza
Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers
Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.
Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.
Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers
When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.
Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge
"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.
Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."
Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper
Fan Mail
Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!
Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."
Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."
Mascot
Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.
Locks Not Replaced
Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.
woof
For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."
Mission: Baby
Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.
14 Tracks
Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.
Life Will Rattle Your Bones
Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers
Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?
In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.
come build me up
Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”
“All of the time.”
Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.
Down in the Worn Out Place Again
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff
“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.
Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”
(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)
Satellites
Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.
Timeless Classics
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.
you just wait and see
Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers
“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”
The Small Hours
Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."
The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels
Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.
we're all choir boys at best
Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm
You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.
Epistaxis
Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.
You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades
His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.
Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)
After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.
Mourning the Future
Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.
Riviera Life
Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.
Voluntary Bros.
Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm
"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.
"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.
Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple
Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”
“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.
... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.
Battle Fatigue
Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.
We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)
New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.
A beautiful day in the neighborhood
In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.
Leviticus 25
"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."
Strike
Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.
Conversation in Wakanda
“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”
“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”
He sounds and looks utterly delighted.
Contact Light
Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.
Twenty-Two
“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.
“Does he help?” Natasha asked.
Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”
Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.
AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).
Gray
Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.
We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.
"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.
This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable
Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.
it's safe here in our new world
Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.
Shadowboxing
Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers
It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?
Everybody Eats When They Come to My House
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.
i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.
Status Quo Ante
Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)
The Glass Parade
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.
In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.
Still Life
Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)
Selective Service
The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.
I'm a Hustler, Baby
Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.
The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens
Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.
If I Die Before I Wake
It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.
Even Gods Do
Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.
Under My Skin
Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.
A Glossary of the 21st Century
Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.
Blanket Gift Policy
“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.
“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.
“I’m getting a migraine.”
“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”
“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”
Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”
One Tin Soldier
Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?
“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.
and if there's life we'll see it
Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.
Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)
Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.
Way of the Eagle
Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.
Walking Wounded
In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)
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kpop-cakepops · 3 years
Text
Help// Johnny Seo
Anonymous asked:
“heyyy! can i make a request? Since i love suffering can i ask for some heavy angst with Johnny but with a happy ending since my heart is still weak? I'll love you forever if you make it possible💕”
(I had to repost this this way because for some reason the post couldn’t be found when I searched it on the search bar.)
word count: 2,864
WARNINGS: Toxic relationship (mental/emotional a*use), mentions of drug and alcohol a*use, attempted su*cide.
SPECIAL NOTE: If you are someone that is in need of instant help or that is battling su*cidal thoughts or abuse, here are some resources that might be of help. You are loved.(( Domestic violence crisis hotlines  Su*cide prevention Crisis Centers ))
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was complicated, to say the least.
Whatever type of bond you'd managed to concoct with Johnny Seo was twisted and cryptic and muddy and unlabeled. You found yourself often spending nights tangled in a spiral of lust, sweat and limbs with him, only to wake up the next morning and find him gone.
Uncertain.
If you had to describe Johnny with one word only, you'd choose uncertain. One moment he was by your side, the other he was gone. One moment he wanted to hold you and tell you about his dreams of making it big, the other he was in your face yelling and screaming rabid hell your way... just as he was doing right at that moment.
"MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T WHORING YOURSELF OUT TO JUST ANY DUDE THAT LOOKS YOUR WAY, MAYBE I WOULDN'T BE THIS MAD!" he screamed.
You, however, only walked past him. A numb expression plastered on your face.
Used to it.
"He offered to buy me a drink and I accepted. Get the fuck over yourself." You grumbled as you flopped on your couch and started to work at the strap of your heels.
"I don't think you're understanding here. I don't  like it when people look at or touch what's mine." He fumed. His volume was lower, but the anger and bite were still there, almost like he wanted to hurt you with his words.
He did.
"You're so unfair." You let out as you stood up, your height now dwarfed by his due to your lack of heels. "Do you have any fucking idea how I felt when  I saw you dancing with all those girls?! ON MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY, JOHNNY."
He held onto your wrist stopping you from stomping away from him. "Why, were you jealous?" He asked with a raised brow looking down at you provokingly.
"No... no I wasn't jealous but I did wonder why I had to put up with someone like you on my fucking birthday. I wondered why I keep wasting my time here when I could be with someone that will take me seriously. Someone that only has eyes for ME and who would be okay with just laying in bed with me and hold me-" you choked up unable to continue.
It was always the same. He'd yell, you'd yell back, he'd poke and prod at you until you cried. A cycle.
You shoved past him and stomped into your bathroom ready to shower and praying he'd be gone by the time you got out. You weren't exactly lucky....
By the time you stepped out of the bathroom you found Johnny sat on the ground, his back pressed to the side of your bed. "I'm sorry..." he mumbled barely audibly.
You ignored him and stepped up to your dresser. Your reflection only causing a tear to roll down your cheek as you untangled your hair. You really wondered when your reflection had become something you hated.
Warm hands wrapped around you from behind. Johnny's chin now resting on your shoulder. "I'm sorry... I really am sorry that I'm this fucked up. I'm sorry."
You remained silent as you stared at both of you in your mirror. It seemed that the 2 people you'd been when you met 2 years before had disappeared. "Johnny... what are we going to do?" You finally ask.
His eyes meet yours on the mirror and you could tell he's confused. "What?"
"In the future. What do you want? Who do you want to be?" You pried his hands from your body and turned so you were facing him with your arms crossed.
He was scared.
"I don't  know." He admitted. "What do you want?"
"I want to fall in love" you admitted looking at the ground. "I want to fall in love, I want to get married... I want to have a family."
Something in your words caused Johnny to lose his breath. "What does that mean?" He asked.
"It means that I'm scared, John. I'm scared that I'm gonna be stuck being in love with you all by myself for the rest of my life. I'm scared that I'm gonna be stuck chasing after you all my life. I don't want that." You finally let out.
Johnny didn't like it when you talked that way. It scared the daylights out of him to hear you talk about commitment and a family. Why couldn't life be simple? Why couldn't love be easy?
"I..." he couldn't bring himself to say it. He knew he loved you. He knew he wanted you to be with him forever. You were, after all, the reason he was sane and sober. Yet to you, his lack of words meant he didn't.
"You understand that I can't do this forever right?" You finally asked. He wasn't looking at you, his hands were clasped to his sides and his eyes locked on the ground. You waited for him to say something, anything to stop you from doing what you were about to.
"Johnny?" You asked almost pleading him to speak.
He didn't.
"I think you should go." You spoke again. He visibly flinched at that. His eyes finally snapping up to meet your teary ones. "This isn't going to work. I don't have the strength nor the patience to do this anymore. You can pick up your things some other day, but for now please just go"
"Y/N-"
"Go." You groaned not wanting to give in. You knew that if you let him talk he'd somehow convince you to not end things the way you were.
So he left and didn't return. Johnny had gotten the message very clearly. You didn't want to see or hear from him and he tried to understand.... but why was his heart hurting as much as it did. Why were people asking him if he was okay? Why was it that whenever he fucked some random girl in a bathroom stall of whatever musty club he'd stumbled into, all he could think of was you?
Why would he cry?
It would stop at some point, right? He'd stop hurting and crying over you someday, right?
Right. He stopped.
He wasn't sure what scared him most, the previous pain of not seeing you or the fact that he was no longer feeling anything at all. The fact that he was numb all the time and every single emotion he showed was a half-assed reflection of what his friends and the people around him were feeling... yet none of that was real, none of those feelings were his. Johnny couldn't even pinpoint the last time he'd genuinely laughed in the past 4 months... the 4 months he'd spent away from you.
Falling down a spiral of old bad habits is exactly what Johnny found himself doing. Medicating and drinking until he was hallucinating about you, it was the only way he could feel what he used to feel. It was the only way he could see you.
It's also how he found himself calling you in the middle of the night.
"Hello?" You groaned.
"Why do we have to have a label?" He asked, voice slurred. "Why can't we just continue to say we're just friends? Why do we have to complicate shit so much? No one labels shit nowadays, why do we have to be different?"
"Johnny?" You asked. The sleep was gone out of your voice as soon as you realized the state he was in.
"If you want to hear it so bad, then yes. I love you. I fucking love you" he exclaimed into the phone. "At first I just wanted us to fuck but-"
"John, you're drunk. Where are you?" You snapped already putting on pants to go look for him.
"Let me fucking finish!" He yelled causing you to freeze on the other end of the line. "At first I just wanted us to fuck. You were hot and you were fine with it... but then suddenly, I stopped medicating and you gave me the spare key to your house, I was spending nights at your place talking to you about my stupid fucking dreams..."
He stopped talking and only then did you realize you were crying. You were already on your way to his apartment which was only 2 blocks from your complex. "Johnny?"
No answer.
A sense of panic invaded your senses and you started to run the rest of the way to his place hanging up the phone you found his spare key almost immediately above the door frame. Your panicked form stumbled into the dark apartment and towards his bedroom. The stench of alcohol took over the entire place, almost as if he'd purposely filled every crevice of his apartment with liquor.
"John?!" You called.
There was no answer but the soft sniffles coming from his bedroom had you instantly running his way. Sure enough, there he was, resting against a corner of the dim lit room. His knees were up to his chin and his arms were splayed to his sides with his phone laying  several feet away from him.
"Shit" you mumbled and walked up to him. "Johnny. Hey, can you hear me?" You asked as you took his face into your hands. He was running a fever.
"Y/N. You have to run away. Love isn't shit. Everyone leaves in the end, Y/N you need to run before you end up like everyone else" he sobs.
A tight knot forms in your throat as you hear him cry. It was a first and you hated it. You hated it to no end. "Johnny, you're running a fever. How much did you drink?" You ask trying your best not to cry. If you cried you'd lose it and what Johnny needed was help, not another reason to feel bad.
The intoxicated man pointed at the splay of bottles across from him and you cursed internally when you spotted what seemed like an empty xanax bottle next to the many bottles of liquor. "Oh god... oh my god. Oh God, did you take that?! Johnny did you take the xanax with the alcohol?" You wanted to scream.
You needed to take him to the hospital.. Your shaky hands reached for your phone and you instantly called 911 to get an ambulance to his place as soon as possible.
Everything that followed happened as if in slow motion. There were paramedics and an ambulance, people asking you questions, but you were too shaken up to even form a proper sentence.
When you got to the hospital you called Taeyong, Johnny's best friend. "Y/N!!-"
You cut him off instantly, "Tae, Johnny was medicated and drunk. I don't know how much he took but he's running a fever. I'm freaking out please come to the hospital. Taeyong I'm scared." you cried.
"What do you-"
"ASK QUESTIONS LATER TAEYONG, I NEED YOU TO PLEASE COME TO THE HOSPITAL!" you yelled still on the brink of having a mental breakdown.
Almost two hours had passed and you found yourself still sat in the emergency waiting room, your hair unmade as you waited next to Taeyong for the doctor to come out and tell you what room Johnny would be moved to. You had cried yourself dry by then, Taeyong's hand rubbing up and down your back to calm you down until you were both silent.
"Why did you go see him?" He asked.
"He called me... he didn't sound okay"
"When has Johnny ever been okay?" Taeyong countered.
You didn't answer because you knew he was right, Johnny had never been okay. Not before you, not with you and most definitely not after you. You used to think that you were doing him good by letting him depend on you for his well-being... and yet there you were waiting for him to finish getting his stomach pumped or suctioned whatever they did in cases like this.
"I thought I was helping him" you mumbled.
"Johnny needs professional help, Y/N. We can't help him alone, you can't help him alone. Look where we are. What would have happened had he not called you?" Taeyong snapped.
You could feel his angry gaze on you and you knew he had every right to be angry. Everyone around you both had warned you, everyone had asked you to be careful... but you both chose to go your own toxic way. You called it 'loving intensely' when in reality you were both so in love that you didn't know how to properly show it, instead playing a game of cat and mouse. Chasing, capturing, yelling, fucking, apologizing, never truly valuing the feelings you two really felt for each other... why? Because it wasn't cool? Because other people told you that love wasn't a real thing? Because labels were fucking stupid and both your parents were divorced and bitter?
"I know." You whimpered.
"John Seo?"
You almost sprinted towards the nurse as he called out Johnny's name. "That's us."
"The patient is stable. Had you come in an hour later we wouldn't have run into the luck we did today. He's going to be moved to an observation unit shortly. Just go to the lobby and they'll give you the number." The nurse looked at you sternly as he spoke. "And miss... if you and your boyfriend are seeking help, we have many programs we can recommend. We wouldn't ever want to see a young man like that lost to an addiction."
You looked over at Taeyong who was staring back at you knowingly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Johnny woke up only a few hours later, you were seated right beside his bed. Your head resting on the edge of the soft bedding, eyes closed and breath shallow. You were asleep.
Johnny's eyes took in his surroundings. His daze dissipating and final realization coming to him upon hearing the light beeping of the heart monitor beside him as well as the slight tightness of the IV stuck to his arm. His head fell back into his pillow and he wanted to scream.
Your eyes opened instinctively at the slight movement. "John?"
He looked down at you and met your eyes for the first time in 4 months. To say he felt suddenly disarmed would be an understatement. He wanted to rip that IV out of his arm and drop to his knees in front of you. Beg for your forgiveness. Tell you that he... loves you.
"You almost..." you trailed off. How were you supposed to bring it up? There was a tight knot in your throat and a horrible twisting of your stomach.
"I know" he rasped out, taking you by surprise. Your worried eyes moved to meet his teary ones. "I know because I was planning to go"
It was like all air had been suddenly knocked from you. "y-you mean... that was supposed to be goodbye?" you asked.
He stayed silent for a few seconds. "It was. Then I heard you screaming my name and I realized that I didn't want it to be. I realized I didn't want to die."
You weren't breathing. How could he... how could he want to end it all? How could he be so willing to throw his life away. Your throat was so tight as you bit back sobs. How could you have failed him this bad? "Johnny, I love you," you murmured as you felt his large hand take yours. "I'm so sorry, Johnny. I don't want you to die. I want you to live. I want you to be okay. I want us to be okay."
"Can we be okay? Haven't we done too much?" he asked shutting his eyes. He wasn't sure if he was tired, or if he just couldn't bear to look at the dark circles under your eyes. Probably caused by him.
"We've done too much of the wrong things and not enough of the right ones, Johnny... I want us to get better. We need help." You uttered. "Let's get help. You and me, professional help. They have so many programs, so many rehab centers to help people like us."
He didn't say anything to that. Johnny knew he needed the help, but he wasn't sure his ego would ever allow him to get the help he needed, especially if it meant being away from you again... Yet one look at your tired form did it for him. One look at you triggered the dark memories of the previous night. The way you cried by his drugged up, almost dead body. He remembered how much he wanted to live. He remembered the future he saw slipping through his fingers when he thought he'd be gone.
"Okay"
You looked up at him, he was avoiding your gaze, but something deep inside told you he was being serious.
"Let's get help... let's get better... and when we do, let's properly meet again, and give that future you want- no, that future we want a shot," he answered giving your hand a squeeze.
Relief invaded your entire being, a sigh of relief leaving your lips unconsciously. "Okay... we'll give it as many shots as you want."
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SPECIAL NOTE: If you are someone that is in need of instant help or that is battling su*cidal thoughts or abuse, here are some resources that might be of help. You are loved.(( Domestic violence crisis hotlines  Su*cide prevention Crisis Centers ))
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whelvenwings · 4 years
Text
Fallout
4.4k, destiel, AU: no supernatural, skydiving, mutual pining
Dean might have slightly underplayed how much he hates planes, and that might just have come back to bite him in the ass. He's just been asked to fly up to a height of thousands of feet, for moral support in the plane before Castiel does a skydive for charity. It's the nightmare scenario - but it might just give Dean the push he needs to finally tell his friend Castiel something he's been meaning to tell him for a very, very long time.
read it here on AO3 if you prefer!
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This was actually happening.
Dean was really, truly, and in actual fact inside a plane. A plane that was not on the ground. A plane that was very much in the air. Engine roaring. Pilot in control. Clouds moving serenely past the window.
He couldn’t breathe, obviously. But he was doing his best to keep that to himself. He was here for a reason, a specific and good reason - obviously. Nothing less that the best and most specific of reasons could have got him on board. He had to focus on that reason. 
On that person, actually. Who was sitting opposite him.
Castiel looked nervous. In all their four years of friendship, Dean had never seen his jaw clenched so tight. Even still, the giveaway was a small one, and Dean thought that to anyone who’d never met him, Castiel would probably have looked entirely cool with the fact that in less than a minute, he was going to be jumping out of this plane.
Dean was not remotely cool. Dean had gone through the five stages of grief on the ascent, and was now hovering somewhere in the zone of numb acceptance. He leaned forwards, towards Castiel.
“Remind me why you’re doing this again,” Dean said to him, speaking loudly so that he could be heard over the sound of the plane’s engines. Castiel smiled.
“To raise a lot of money for a good cause,” he said.
“And remind me why I’m here?”
“You said if I was going to throw away my life on something this stupid, you were at least going to wave me goodbye before I did it,” Castiel said.
That was right. Dean clearly remembered thinking that if he was going to lose Castiel to a parachuting accident, Dean was going to be with him until the last possible moment. And maybe, at that last possible moment, he’d have the guts to say to Castiel… well. To say goodbye to him, anyway.
“Also,” Castiel said, “I asked if you’d come.”
And there it was. Dean could’ve let go of the other stuff - maybe - but Castiel had asked him. The thing was, Dean might have decided to undersell how much he hated planes, over the course of the time they’d known each other - there was no need to make Cas think he was a baby - but it had really come back to bite him in the ass. Castiel would never have asked if he’d known that for Dean, being on a plane was like swallowing a pill labelled panic and feel like you’re dying. But Castiel hadn’t known, and he had asked. And now here Dean was.
On a goddamn plane.
“You’re fine,” Castiel said, apparently catching the expression on Dean’s face. “You’re wearing a parachute. Nothing’s going to go wrong.”
“I’m not jumping,” Dean said hastily. The part of him that wasn’t freaking out rolled its eyes. Obviously he wasn’t jumping, and Castiel knew that - but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Some primal part of him apparently needed it to be entirely clear that he was absolutely not going to be dropping out of this plane.
“I know. It just makes me feel better than you’re wearing one, just in case,” Castiel said. “And you know how to use it, right? Because I can show you again…”
“You showed me three times already. Worry about yourself,” Dean grunted. Normally, he’d have teased Castiel about fussing over him, but worry was shaving away his sense of humour.
“I’ve done this lots of times,” Castiel said. “Before we met, I used to do it monthly. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m just worried about making rent if you, you know, go splat,” Dean said. “You don’t have life insurance and a will made out to me, do you?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Any rich family members I could sponge off?”
“Lots. But you never liked my aunts and uncles.”
“Some of them are okay,” Dean said. “Naomi creeps me out.”
“She’s fine,” Castiel said.
“She’s dead behind the eyes,” Dean said. It was helping to talk. Things felt normal when they talked. He could forget where he was, and what was about to happen.
“Concussed, at most,” Castiel said, his mouth twitching.
At the front of the plane, the pilot turned around. He called something that Dean couldn’t hear, but apparently made sense to Castiel, who began to pull on straps and tug at his jumpsuit and tap on the pair of goggles on the top of his head to make sure they were still there.
Dean was struck by a sudden sense of urgency.
“Cas?” he said. 
Castiel didn’t hear him.
“Cas?”
This time, Castiel turned to look, eyes expectant.
“You know how we’ve been friends for, you know, four years now…”
“I’m going to be fine, Dean.”
“I know, I know.” Dean chewed his lip as Castiel went back to his straps. “Just… don’t… I mean, we’ve really…”
He stumbled to a stop.
Castiel watched him, still adjusting one of the straps on his jumpsuit. The expression on his face was slightly impatient.
Dean’s mouth tried to form words, and failed. He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say any of it. 
Couldn’t say what it had meant to him to meet Castiel during the worst year of his life, when he’d just lost both his parents. 
Couldn’t say how much their friendship had kept him going, through the worst of times. 
Couldn’t say how much he looked forward to their quiet movie nights. Their weird, intense, deep discussions. Castiel was the first person Dean had met in adulthood who actually thought a dumbass mechanic might have something interesting to say, and talked to him about real shit, important shit. And then there were the times they both lost it completely over something only they would find funny, Dean laughing out loud and Castiel’s shoulders shaking as he covered his eyes with his hand. 
Dean couldn’t say how much he thought about Castiel, how often he noticed things, how much he felt. It was so much. It was so goddamn much, and he’d never breathed a word. Obviously. Never told a single soul. He wouldn’t know how to begin to twist even a single sentence together.
He still couldn’t. Even now, when he could be about to lose Castiel forever - yeah, sure, Castiel would roll his eyes at that, but the fact remained that Castiel was about to jump out of a very high plane and head downward at high speed towards some very hard ground - even now, he couldn’t force the words out. What if Castiel didn’t want to hear them? What if he was horrified? What if the last memory Dean had of Castiel was of being rejected, with Castiel hating him for keeping his feelings a secret for so long, their trust broken?
And even if that wasn’t his last memory - what if Castiel landed completely okay, and then Dean had to explain? 
Either way, he was going to be dealing with some fallout.
Dean couldn’t do it. He couldn’t. 
He was going to sit quietly and support his friend on his stupid ridiculous charity jump, and then he was going to go home with Castiel afterwards and things were going to go back to how they’d been for years, now. Just the normal things: cooking together, watching TV together, hiding his smile when he watched Castiel concentrating or talking about something he was passionate about, trying not to ever look too long or feel too much and failing, doing laundry together, taking out the trash. Just the usual.
One day, Castiel was going to meet someone he actually liked, and he was going to tell that person that he liked them, and they were obviously going to like him back because who wouldn’t, and when he heard about it for the first time Dean was going to have to politely excuse himself so that he could go into the woods somewhere and yell and yell and maybe never come back. Maybe just become that guy who lives in the woods and yells a lot. It was going to hurt like - like nothing Dean had ever felt before. He knew it in the same way he knew, by looking at a knife, that the pointy end shouldn’t go in him. The fun part was, he wasn’t the one holding the knife. That was Castiel.
And Castiel would find someone. Dean knew that Castiel hoped he’d be in a relationship with someone he loved one day. They’d talked about it. And when Castiel found what he wanted, he wouldn’t be too afraid to take it, and hold it, when he’d found it. Because Castiel wasn’t afraid, not like Dean. Castiel jumped out of planes.
“Stop,” Castiel said, jerking Dean back to the present. “I can tell you’re thinking about how I’m about to - how did you so colourfully put it? ‘Go splat’?”
Dean had been more focused on the way he himself was going to go splat, emotionally speaking, one day. But he held up his hands and said,
“Guilty as charged. Like I said. I just don’t want to lose your half of the rent money, dude.”
“I’m sure you’d find another roommate.”
There was something in the way Castiel said it that made Dean frown.
“Nah,” he said.
Castiel looked up at him.
“What?” he asked.
“If you - you know - I wouldn’t find a new roommate. I’d move out.”
“Leave our place?” Castiel looked taken aback. “But… you spent so long decorating it. You’d lose your accent walls. And your faucets. You love your faucets.”
Dean took a moment to curse the fact that Castiel knew how much he cared about the taps in his home, but not the person he shared it with. How had this happened. Who was he.
“I’d sell it,” Dean said solidly.
“It’s so perfectly placed for your work…”
“I’d sell it, Cas! It doesn’t even matter, anyway. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”
Castiel heard the note of finality in Dean’s tone and let it go. Even still, Dean could see thoughts whirring in Castiel’s mind, in just the way Dean usually tried to prevent. If Castiel was going to find out that Dean had feelings for him, Dean wanted it to be on purpose, not by accident: not because Dean said slightly too much and Castiel figured it out, but because Dean finally had the guts to say something. Anything else felt like a cop-out.
The plane was starting to rattle and jerk a little. Dean closed his eyes, whole body tensing up. The cabin was a sparse one, with this plane being used mostly just to ferry people up a few thousand feet so that they could throw themselves out of it, so far as Dean knew. Room to stand up and walk a little way, seats along the sides, handles on the ceiling to grip onto. There were no in-flight snacks or home comforts to make up for the fact that he was trapped in a prison at lethal altitude.
When he opened his eyes again, Castiel was standing up and talking to the pilot. Dean saw him nod, and then he went over to the door, which was on one side of the cabin, the side opposite where Dean was sitting. Dean swallowed hard. If he was going to do it, it had to be now.
He opened his mouth, and then closed it.
Castiel had his hand on the door.
Dean opened his mouth again, and said,
“Cas -”
He said it just as Castiel opened the door, and the sudden rush of air stole the sound. Castiel didn’t turn around. Dean watched him framed there in the doorway of the plane, hair buffeted by the wind.
Fuck.
Castiel looked ready to jump. He was bracing his hands on either side of the door. He had his goggles pulled down. It seemed like he was about to go. Was he even going to look back at Dean? With the clumsiness of panic, Dean fumbled with the straps that held him in his seat. He had to get over to Castiel, had to tell him - something, at least. Just something. He unclipped himself.
Dean stood up. He felt more steady on his feet than he’d expected. He just had to focus on Castiel, and not think about the door of the plane being wide open, or the fact that he was thousands of feet above the ground, or how easily he could just slip and fall out -
Dean saw Castiel shift, turning his head to look back over his shoulder towards Dean - and then Castiel saw Dean standing up, and his expression melted into concern faster than Dean had ever seen.
“What are you doing?” he called, over the roar of the plane.
“I’m coming to - to say -”
“Sit down! It’s not safe!”
“Cas, I’ve gotta tell you -”
“Sit down!”
From up front, Dean thought he could hear the pilot yelling something. Dean gritted his teeth.
“Cas,” he said, and Castiel turned away from the door. He grabbed onto one of the handles hanging from the plane cabin’s ceiling, and looked at Dean. Sharply, he pulled up his goggles, so they rested on top of his head again.
“What?” he demanded. 
Dean reached for words that weren’t there. 
Castiel reached for Dean’s hand, and Dean’s heart leapt for a second - but then Castiel just grabbed him by the wrist and lifted his hand to hook into another one of the ceiling handles. Dean hung onto it.
And Castiel looked at Dean, eyes searching his face, trying to understand. At first, he looked as though a part of him was finding this slightly funny, even though his worry - but then he seemed to pick up on Dean’s indecision, his urgency, and the little smile around his eyes faded.
It was time to say something. Now was the moment. There had been at least three now was the moment moments, and he’d missed all of them so far, so this really had to be the moment. But Dean didn’t know what to do, what to say. He could only look at Castiel, and look at him, and look at him.
He saw Castiel. His friend. His closest friend. His closest, bravest, most stubborn asshole friend. About to make a jump. He saw him, and he didn’t know what to say to him.
Dean’s gaze traced over Castiel’s face.
The plane shuddered, and Dean felt a wave of panic flood him. With his free hand, he grabbed onto Castiel’s shoulder to steady himself. The two of them swayed closer together.
Dean breathed in sharply. 
He couldn’t stop looking into Castiel’s eyes. Couldn’t figure out what to say. They were closer than they’d ever been, closer than Dean ever let them be around their home. He always kept such careful distances and saved touch for his imagination. But now here they were, Dean’s hand already on Castiel’s shoulder, in each other’s space.
Just where Dean wanted to be. And couldn’t be. He couldn’t be here, couldn’t do this. He was going to lose Castiel. He was going to lose him, actually lose him, like this. It wasn’t a game, it wasn’t fake or pretend - it was real life, and in real life, you lost people unless you did everything right. The right thing to do was to move his hand and go back and sit down. He should move his hand. 
He should move his hand.
He should move his hand.
He wasn’t moving his hand.
Castiel’s expression was changing, his eyes on Dean’s more intense. There was a question there, an understanding that something was happening and a tilt to his head that asked what Dean was going to do about it, what he wanted. Dean didn’t know how to answer. Didn’t know how to move, even. He was locked in place - one hand on Castiel’s shoulder, not taking it away, not giving anything more. Just enough to be close but not as close as he wanted, needed.
The moment see-sawed. Dean knew he could pull back, let go, step away, go sit down. 
Or, Dean knew, he could lean forward. Not quickly, but enough - enough that Castiel would know what Dean wanted, and then he could choose whether to give it or not. And obviously he would choose not to. Because if someone as brave as Castiel had wanted to be with Dean, Dean would already know about it. So doing that would be ridiculous, stupid, stupid, as stupid as jumping out of a plane.
Dean didn’t make jumps. He didn’t do heights. He didn’t do danger. He did the right thing, the silent thing, the not-really-doing-or-saying-anything thing. And he was careful, he was careful, he was always so careful never to show any of it, not a word of it, not a whisper, not a glance.
Even still, though, their plane was up high. The air currents swirled. The pilot was yelling something again, not paying enough attention to the plane itself. Castiel, with his own mind and choices and story, was opposite him. Dean could do everything completely perfectly, be completely silent and do nothing to give Castiel a reason to leave - and even still, there were a hundred ways, a thousand ways that he could lose Castiel just in this exact moment.
Maybe that was scary. Maybe that was terrible. But there was no way off the plane, they were here. This was it. This was what they had. 
Dean wanted to hide. He wanted go on with it as he had been. He could go on and on being tired, and tired, and right, and silent.
But somewhere deeper inside him, there was a pull. More than a want, a need. A need to let go. Let go of right. Try something else. Try being something else. Honest? Open? 
Real?
Real - real would be wrong sometimes. Stupid. Urgent. Honest. Real would be letting himself want something, letting himself… show that he wanted it.
He wanted Castiel to know. In his bones, he felt it. Hot and electric, the push, the need. Dean wanted Castiel to know.
In the cabin of the plane, high above the ground, mind freefalling and breath lost, Dean made his jump.
 Deliberately, he lifted his chin a little, and leaned in towards Castiel, and glanced down at his lips and then back up to his eyes.
Castiel’s eyes widened.
“Dean…” he said.
Dean swallowed.
He tightened his grip on Castiel’s shoulder. All he could see as the plane moved under him was Castiel’s face, the steadiness of his eyes. And then, he felt the lightest of touches on his cheek. 
Castiel’s hand, the backs of his fingers, brushed Dean’s skin. It was so fragile, so tentative. Dean closed his eyes into it, just for a half-second, before he could stop himself. When he looked back to Castiel, he saw a question in his expression. More than that. He saw a hope.
“There was something I wanted to tell you,” Castiel called to him. The wind through the plane’s cabin was so loud that he had to raise his voice even though they were so close. “Before I jumped.”
“There was?”
“Dean, I…”
They stared at each other. Just looked, and looked. Dean saw Castiel’s mouth struggling for words, half-shaping things and then abandoning them.
“Cas?” he said.
“Dean… I wanted to tell you…”
Dean raised his chin just a fraction higher.
Castiel stopped reaching for words. His eyes dropped to Dean’s lips.
“This,” he said, and then he leaned forwards, and kissed Dean.
If he’d meant the kiss to be gentle, he hadn’t reckoned on Dean meeting him in the middle, surging forwards to catch his lips. They kissed hard, not breathing and not moving and not caring, just doing this - finally, finally doing this, after so long around each other not knowing if they should or if they could. The wind raced around the cabin, tugging at them, but they paid it no attention. It was Dean, and it was Castiel, at a height of thousands of feet, wrapped into each other.
Castiel pulled back.
“That,” he said.
And then he turned, pulled down his goggles - he took a few quick steps, and he jumped.
Dean stood utterly still. Wind-ruffled, kiss-shaken, mouth ever so slightly open, dazed.
“Uh-huh,” he said, to no one. “Right.”
---
Dean marched across the field at a pace that was militaristic. The long grass where Castiel had landed reached up to Dean’s hips, but he wasn’t waiting for Castiel to make his own way out of it; he was coming to meet him. Somewhere behind him, he knew there were people following, ready to help with the parachute. Dean paid them no attention.
He could still feel the kiss burning on his lips.
Last-minute rush of adrenaline? A pity-kiss, because he’d known what Dean had wanted, and had decided to give it to him?
Or… something real?
Dean couldn’t even think it. All he could do was walk. He could stride across this field with its swaying tall green grass, single-minded. In the distance, he could see a figure walking towards him out of the sun. The shape of a person he knew. Dean headed towards him, squinting against the light.
The trees at the edge of the field rustled. Somewhere in the grass, there was the chirping of crickets. Dean breathed. The air was warm and smelled fresh - a little sharp with sap, a little sweet with the yellow ripening of a few stray ears of crop.
Dean walked. The figure ahead of him drew nearer. Not a silhouette, now, not a vague shadow. A person, a face. Blue eyes. Solemn expression.
Castiel.
They kept going until they were close to each other. It was Castiel who came to a halt first, with a few feet between them.
Dean would have been happy to walk into another kiss, another touch, but he stopped. Let Castiel take the lead. It might not have been real, he reminded himself. It might not have been real.
They stood quietly for a few seconds. Dean took a breath and let it go. Castiel wasn’t looking at him. He was twisting a piece of grass around his finger.
“Cas -”
“I’m sorry,” Castiel said.
Dean paused.
“Huh?”
“I’m sorry. I - I wanted to tell you - before I jumped - but I didn’t know how, and then…” Castiel swallowed visibly. “We can act as though it never happened. But I understand, if you don’t want to be around me right now. I can go.”
“What?”
Castiel kept twisting and twisting that grass.
“I can go,” he said.
“You want to?”
Now, Castiel looked at him.
“Don’t you want me to?”
“I… I want…”
Dean felt his shoulders tensing. He wanted to be back in the goddamn plane, turbulence pushing them close, wind too loud to really talk. Down here, in the quiet, there was nothing to make them closer than they showed they wanted to be.
The grass wavered and moved around them.
Dean closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was the one to look down, at the swaying fronds.
“I want you to be here,” he said. Low, deep. Rough. Trying, as always, to hide how careful it all felt inside, how delicate.
“Here… in this field?”
Dean wanted to just fall into the grass, face-first. Give up. But he gritted his teeth.
“Here, where… I… am,” he managed.
Castiel was quiet. Dean chanced a glance up at his face.
“You want to be…” Castiel began, and then broke off.
“Together,” Dean finished, his tone almost - almost - making it a question. But not quite. Because there was no question, not really. That was what he wanted. What he’d wanted for so, so long.
“Even though I…” Castiel gestured loosely upward, to the sky.
“It wasn’t - I didn’t - it was - fine,” Dean said.
Fine? Seriously? He was going to call the first kiss he’d ever shared with Castiel, fine? Something in him rebelled.
“No,” he said, “it was - it was - good. It was what I - god. It was what I wanted, Cas.”
When he looked at Castiel now, he couldn’t tell which was brighter. The look on Castiel’s face, or the sun behind him.
“You wanted…”
“Yeah. But you… you too?”
“Yes, Dean. Of course.” Castiel looked as though a touch of puzzlement was trying to show, but it was being utterly eclipsed by his happiness. “You didn’t know? I thought you’d known for years…”
“Wait. You’ve wanted this for years?” Dean said, and it came out a croak. “You too?”
“Dean,” Castiel said. “It’s always been you.”
Dean and Castiel stared at each other.
“We need to learn how to talk,” Dean said.
Castiel pressed his lips together, holding back laughter.
“Jesus. We really… jesus, Cas.”
Now, Castiel stepped closer to him. Now, they moved into each other’s space again, came closer. Dean had always imagined that if this ever happened - if he ever actually got the chance to step closer to Castiel, knowing that he wanted this, knowing they both wanted the same thing - he’d always imagined that he’d feel dizzy, heady, mind floating over his own body, disbelieving.
It wasn’t like that. As he moved, he felt it all. The grass against his fingertips, the way the breeze caught at his clothes. He felt clear-eyed, awake. He felt his breath in his lungs, his heartbeat - thudding hard, desperately hard, but steady.
And when Castiel touched the tips of his fingers to Dean’s cheek, he felt it shake him. Felt his legs want to go from under him. He was big and clumsy under the gentleness of the touch. But when he met Castiel’s eyes, he hoped Castiel saw in them what he felt inside: something delicate and intricate. Strong, but so carefully felt, over so many years.
Dean leaned forward, and pressed his forehead to Castiel’s. They moved slowly, now. They had time. There was no sound around them but the hushing grass. If the people who’d followed Dean for the parachute were nearby, they were leaving the pair of them well alone.
Achingly slowly, Dean moved. 
Eyes closed, going by feel, chasing the warmth of Castiel’s breath, Dean kissed him.
There was no thought. He was all feeling. He was the lips on Castiel’s lips, he was the hand on Castiel’s shoulder and the hand on his back, he was feet planted on the ground. He was hot under the sun’s light and under the care in Castiel’s touch. He was awake, he was real.
It was better than he could have possibly imagined.
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trey-ff · 7 years
Text
THREE.
SONYA
After two days spent in the hospital, Hassan and I were finally allowed to be discharged. I hadn’t been there for that long, but I was elated to be going home. Though anxiety and a little apprehensiveness rested in the pit of my stomach at what lied ahead, I couldn’t wait for my life with my son to officially begin.
“Where’d you get these flowers? Please, don’t tell me it was you-know-who.” Ebony frowned, pointing to the vase of roses that Hassan had gotten for me.
“If you’re referring to Carter, hell no. Hassan, the man who helped deliver the baby, bought them for me. He stopped by yesterday to check on us.” I informed her, leaving out the fact that Carter had stopped by, too. She hated him and I didn’t need her going on a tangent about it. Besides, I still hadn’t come to grips with the progression of our talk myself.
“This Hassan seems like a real gentleman.” she smirked as I simply chuckled.
“He is,” I admitted while tossing my tresses behind my shoulder, “I wasn’t even expecting him to come see me, let alone, bring me flowers. He even sat and talked to me for awhile, too.”
“That was really nice of him.” she smiled, getting up from the chair with Hassan nestled in her arms. While I finished getting myself together, she entertained her nephew. Soon, I was dressed in black leggings and a gray Champion sweatshirt, ready to go.
“Can’t wait to get home.” I sang, trailing back towards the bed where me and Hassan’s things were halfway packed.
“Just be sure that you have everything.” she mumbled while bundling Hassan into the carseat that I had her retrieve from my house before she came. Nodding, I stuffed my worn clothes inside of the duffle-bag before zipping it up. Then, I glanced around the brightly lit hospital-room.
“I think that’s everything,” I sighed, unplugging my charger from the outlet beside the bed before plopping down in the nearby chair, “I just need to put on my sneakers and then, we can go.”
“I hope you know you’re gonna’ have to be rolled out of here in a wheelchair. So, we still need to wait for them.”
“Why? It’s not like I can’t walk. I just got dressed by my damn self.” I grumbled, adjusting the tongue to my black Huaraches before tying the laces. She chuckled.
“It’s discharge policy.” she shrugged, tugging the baby-blue hat further down Hassan’s head. Thankfully, he was deep asleep and was not being much of a hassle. It seemed that every time he was awake, he was in need of a feeding and I was still adjusting to that.
Soon, the nurse entered my hospital-room with a wheelchair and my copy of the birth-certificate. While Ebony carried Hassan, the nurse assisted me into the chair and followed her lead until we approached Ebony’s truck. Once everyone was settled comfortably and securely inside, we headed in the direction of my house.
“Ah, I’m so happy to be home.” I cheesed as we pulled onto my street. In response, Ebony only chuckled and shook her head. As we approached my house, I noticed Hassan’s car still parked outside and that reminded me to tell him that I had been discharged from the hospital.
And so, I pulled out my iPhone and shot him a text, along with an apology for making him wait two whole days for it. I imagined it must have been tough for him to get around without it.
“C’mon, kid. Let’s get you two in the house.” my sister sang after parking alongside the curb. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I opened my door and due to the height of the truck, I had to literally leap down, causing Ebony to snicker and mutter short-ass beneath her breath.
“Oh, shut up. You ain’t got no more than two inches on me.” I chuckled, feeling the vibration of my phone in my pocket. It was a text from Hassan, informing me that he would be stopping by sometime later that day to scoop his keys. Texting back a simple okay, I proceeded to open the backseat-door to get my son.
“I’ll get your stuff. You just worry about him.” Ebony said as I nodded and grabbed the handle to his car-seat. After being sure that the doors to her truck were locked, we hiked up to my burgundy front-door, where Ebony fished my obnoxiously decorated keys out of my purse, forcing me to smirk at her agitated expression.
“Ugh, I can’t stand all these stupid-ass keychains you got on here.” she complained as she always did whenever she saw my keys.
I had a rhinestone S for obvious reasons, a Minion keychain that my niece gave me, a lime-green furry ball keychain that I bought from Forever 21, a flashlight in case I needed to see, an ice-cream cone because who doesn’t like ice-cream, a million store membership cards to stores I barely ever shopped at, a corkscrew for the wine I never drank, and a keychain from that trip to Puerto Rico that I didn’t go on, amongst many other silly little trinkets that I randomly hooked on there.
“Hey, at least I could never say I lost them.” I laughed as she unlocked the door and pushed it open. With no expectations of seeing anything out-of-the-norm, I was startled to the point of almost dropping my baby when my family and friends jumped out of hiding and shouted SURPRISE!
“Oh my goodness! You guys fuckin’ scared me.” I breathed, touching my chest as the group of maybe ten or so people bursted into laughter. Upon first glance, I spotted my mother, my aunts, Aaron, my niece and nephew, and my best-friends, Deidra, Ashley, Sasha, and Noah, along with a few other familiar faces.
“Aye, no more potty-mouth. You’re a mother now.” Deidra, my girlfriend from my old job at the casino, joked as she wagged her finger at me. Chuckling, I stepped further into the house and made my rounds. Of course, everyone who hadn’t seen my son yet paid me two seconds of attention before insisting that I showed them the baby. Not that I cared, I was just happy to be around so many loved ones.
After catching up with everyone, my mother insisted that I eat. For my homecoming and the arrival of Hassan, my mother and aunts cooked an array of my favorites for the get-together that my friends had planned for me in lieu of a baby-shower.
“This is so good.” I admitted, dipping another chip into the sriracha and ranch dip that my Aunt Gina made. Sasha pursed her lips up at me.
“You’re just greedy,” she giggled while scrolling through her never-ending pictures of Hassan, “so, which one should I post? This one… or this one?”
While the other guests, specifically my relatives, were in the living-room with Hassan, I was sitting in the kitchen with my friends. Due to my isolated and neglectful mood during my pregnancy, I could definitely say that I hadn’t been the best best-friend to them. But, they knew that the battles in which I was facing at the time were tough. So, instead of dwelling on that, we broke away from the rest and got lost in our usual quibbles.
“Don’t be plastering my baby all over Instagram now,” I told Sasha, who was infamous for documenting every moment of her life, significant or otherwise, on social-media, “I haven’t even made a post about him yet.”
Sasha was what I considered the it-girl of our group. All of the latest trends, hot-spots, and gossip, she was up on it. Everywhere we went, at least five people knew who she was; she was quite popular around Vegas. If you’d let her tell it, though, none of them were really friends. She simply knew how to network for her net-worth.
“And, you probably never will, Sonny. Only thing yo’ ass be on is Tumblr anyway.” she clowned, somehow making my other friends laugh.
“Whatever. Tumblr is better than all that shit you guys be on. Yes, that includes Twitter and Instagram. And, don’t even get me started on Facebook.” I chuckled, taking a sip of my Fiji water.
“Now, we can all agree that nobody, but old-ass people with uninstalled updates on their computers and shit use Facebook. Hell, they just now finding out about that blue and black, gold and white dress debate. I promise you, my aunties were arguing up and down my wall about that shit last week like it ain’t happen last year. They was just begging to get blocked.” Ashley ranted, forcing me into a fit of giggles.
Now, Ashley, I had met at my bartending job and she always had me dying. She was over-the-top, petty, and had no filter or restraint of any kind. You always needed one brash friend like that, though.
“Hey, I use Facebook.” Noah said defensively. Noah was the guy-friend within our circle of friendship, which ultimately deemed him lucky if he was fucking all of us, or gay if he wasn’t. However, despite what outsiders, specifically men, had to say about it, he always stayed true. He was mature, educated, and probably best-labeled as the voice of reason and the fix-it guy. He was like the big brother that we always wanted.
“And, you see why you don’t be invited to the group-chats now, right?” Ashley asked, sending a fake-smile his way.
“Aw, boo-hoo, I’m so upset that I’m never invited to the men-ain’t-shit group-chats. That’s all ya’ll ever talk about anyway.” he chortled before drinking some of his Rolling Rock.
“‘Cause they ain’t!” we all exclaimed in unison before bursting into laughter. Hell, it was the truth. All us girls had dealt with at least one trifling-ass dude in our pasts so, if we related or connected on anything, it was definitely that.
“Now, that we on that subject, I’m thinking about putting Jaxon on child-support. I said I wouldn’t, but he’s just not stepping up to the plate like he should be with Xavier.” Deidra complained, referring to her three-year old son.
Deidra was the oldest of us all, sitting fine at thirty-two. Due to that, I felt that she often took the place as the mother in our group. She, like Noah, was protective, worrisome, and good for letting us hear it when we needed it.
“I say you do it. I mean, why not? What is this trend with men making babies that they refuse to care for?” Sasha muttered, earning an agreeing head-nod from me.
“I just… I know he wouldn’t be able to keep up with the money. And, what good would he be to Xavier locked up? He doesn’t have a job right now and I’m sympathetic.”
“Take off the sym and keep the pathetic ‘cause that’s what you are right now, girl. What good would he be locked up,” Ashley mocked before chuckling, “hell, what good is he now?”
“Ash, you’re not a mother and I’m almost virtually certain that you’re incapable of loving anyone, but yourself so, you wouldn’t really know that feeling either,” Noah jabbed, making her roll her eyes, “no matter how triflin’ the nigga is, that’s not easy to just do, especially knowing the consequences in store if he didn’t pay up. Like, Sonny, do you plan to put Carter on child-support?”
His question instantly reminded me of the envelope of money that Carter had given me days prior. It was tucked inside of my purse and I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone since I was still kind of murky on the offer myself.
“Um… I hadn’t even given it a thought. I probably wouldn’t do it, though. I just… don’t feel the need to.” I shrugged. Beyond their knowledge, Carter had already insisted that he would be helping me out financially, whether I wanted him to, or not. So, I didn’t have the push to put him on child-support.
“Now, you the pathetic one for real. Deidra, I understand her sensitive-ass not wanting to because he low on paper, but Carter is not. He’s paid and you need to reap the benefits. Not be a gold-digger, or a feigning baby-mama, but a woman who’s thinking in the best interest of her son. Have you even seen or heard from him since the birth?” she asked, switching gears a little. Crunching down on my chips, I thought for a moment before slowly nodding my head.
“He stopped by the day after I gave birth.” I said, keeping it short and sweet, though, I knew that they would continue to prod me for more details.
“And? How’d that go?” Sasha inquired.
“It just went,” I chuckled, shrugging as she kissed her teeth, “I mean, he ain’t have shit interesting to say. He basically told me that he can’t be the man that I want him to be right now. He hopes that later on, if I oblige him, he can be that man and we can work things out.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re actually considering that?” Noah commented, furrowing his eyebrows at me. Noah hated Carter, specifically for how he’d treated me after I had revealed my pregnancy to him, which were reasonable grounds.
“Nah, I ain’t paying him no mind. I mean, if he wants to be around for Hassan, fine. I’ll need to learn to accept that, but for me? Nope. I ain’t interested in any men right now. The only boy that my world revolves around is Hassan. Period.”
HASSAN
“Hassan, these scallops are burnt.” Chef Granquist barked snidely, pointing towards the dish of scallops and herbed brown butter that I had cooked. This harsh and rather loud confession made the heads of my fellow classmates turn in our direction.
“I couldn’t keep them from stickin’ to the pan.” I confessed, refraining from showing any attitude, though, there was none at all. Usually, I received the utmost amount of praise from Chef Granquist; I was definitely one of his favorites. However, that didn’t exempt me from his criticism and discipline.
“Maybe if you were paying attention, you wouldn’t have made this careless and stupid mistake. Take note,” he grumbled, now speaking to the class and making an example out of my error, “the pan should be heated to the point where a single drop of water would bounce around the pan. Then, add the three tablespoons of oil and make sure the scallops aren’t touching one another. And, judging by the pan that you decided to use, I could tell that they were touching. I said to use the 14-inch saute pan and you’re using a 10-inch? Just doing your own thing today, huh?”
“No, Sir. I… I forgot.” I grumbled, not really knowing what else to say, but also knowing that nothing would discontinue his ongoing opprobrium.
“You forgot? Do you think a customer would accept that excuse, or any excuse for that matter, from a cook? I forgot? I expect better from you, Hassan,” he admitted before walking away from me and to Donovan, a fellow cook, who had prepared the same dish, “now, these are much better. You see, Hassan, how Donovan listened to my instructions? If you had done the same…”
I zoned out as he praised Donovan and downed me in the same breath. It wasn’t that I didn’t take heed of his lessons because I did. Without this class and without his referral, I wouldn’t have landed a job at Top of the World. That was my dream job until I was able to own a restaurant myself. I knew that it would take a lot of determination and discipline, along with the material that was being taught in my classes. And normally, I was ahead of the game, but there was some shit going on between me and Whitney that was clouding my focus and better judgement.
A part of me considered this to be somewhat more important than our troubles, but even still, having her upset with me weighed on my mind. Whenever Whitney and I weren’t on common grounds, it had the ability to fuck my whole day up, as it should, considering I couldn’t imagine life without her.
About three years ago, I had moved from Houston to Vegas with my best-friend, Dave. The decision was spontaneous; we just wanted something different from the usual. We were bachelors and wanted life to be like a never-ending party, which Vegas turned out to be. Well, until I met Whitney.
Our come-about wasn’t love at first sight, or anything out a romance flick. It was actually quite the opposite. I met her at a party two years ago, fucked on the first night, and didn’t bother leaving any contact info when I dipped right after. Then, we saw each other at another party, fucked again, but this time, we exchanged numbers. We had a friends-with-benefits ordeal for awhile before feelings inevitably became entangled on both ends. Instead of pushing them away, we just went with it to see if we could maintain all that came with a relationship. And, being that a year and four months of monogamy had passed us by, it was clear to me that we had something worth fighting for. Or, so I thought.
“Hassan!” Chef Granquist shouted, indicating that during that brief gap in my reality, he had been talking to me. Damn, I just couldn’t quit fucking up.
“I’m sorr-”
“Am I boring you? No, honestly.”
“No, I’m just… I’on know. I apologize and I assure you, I’m here wit’ you for the remainder of the class.” I said, motioning a finger between his eyes and mine. He chuckled.
“Oh, don’t assure me anything because you aren’t doing me a favor by being here with me. You’re doing yourself one. But, if I ever do bore you, please, there’s the exit. Be my guest.”
Not bothering to add anything to the discussion, I nodded my head and waited for him to continue his instructing. The last thing that I wanted to do was jeopardize this class by spacing out and shit so, as promised, I made sure to stay attentive for the rest of the class.
“Yo, where you at, nigga?” I griped, speaking to Dave. Since my car was wrecked and my keys were still in Sonya’s possession, I was relying on his ass to take me and pick me up from school and work. Thing is, he wasn’t always reliable.
As stated, Dave was my best-friend and had been since we were eight years old. Hell, with our nineteen-year friendship, we considered one another practically kin. We bonded, bickered, and defended one another like brothers. Since we grew up right next door to one another, we were brought up together and essentially, came from the same cloth. Our parents heavily believed that it took a village to raise a child and that was just the method that they used to mold two bad-ass little boys into the grown-ass men that we were today.
“I’m like, ten seconds away, Hassan. You better be lucky I’m even comin’ to get ya’ no-car havin’ ass. You could be callin’ a yellow-cab or some shit everyday.” he grumbled irritably.
“Just shut the fuck up and get here. You ain’t reliable worth shit. Hell, a yellow-cab probably would be more reliable than you.” I rumbled. He kissed his teeth.
“Man, you too disrespectful. But, what else is new, right,” he muttered before blowing the horn, “I’m outside. C’mon.”
“And, what was the point in blowin’ the horn if we on the phone? You always been a dumb-ass.” I snickered, hanging up before he could respond. Then, I got up from the bench and walked outside the school with my duffle-bag and backpack in tow. Jogging down the cement steps, I noticed his black Audi parked fixedly in a parking-space. As I approached the car, he was typing away on his phone, but looked up once he saw me and pressed a button to unlock the doors.
“Wassup, Chef Home-Boyardee?” he snickered, using the same joke he always did as soon as I jumped inside his car. Kissing my teeth, I broke into laughter at his goofy-ass before shoving him aside.
“If I never told you before, I’m tellin’ you now. You get on my nerves.” I chuckled, accepting his hand for a dap before he shrugged and took the car out of park.
“Hey, that’s what I do,” he smiled before peeling out of the parking-lot, “so, how was class? It was cool?”
“Eh, it was aight, I guess. I was fuckin’ up more than usual, though, and Chef Granquist ain’t have no issues callin’ me out on it.” I snickered, shaking my head.
At first, being that my passion elicited sensitivity when it came to criticism, constructive or otherwise, I would get mad and react poorly whenever he did that. As time went on, I gradually learned to appreciate it and used his words to fuel my ambition. To succeed in culinary school, I learned real fast within my first year that you needed determination, perseverance, and a thick layer of skin.
“Well… why was you fuckin’ up in the first place?” Dave asked as we pulled up at a red light. I shrugged.
“I’on know, man. I’m just… tired. Between work and school, I just been real stressed out. I’m tryin’a balance it out, but everything pilin’ down on a nigga right now. Then, there’s Whitney. She feels that I haven’t been spendin’ enough time wit’ her, which is kinda true. But, it’s not that I’on want to, I’ve just been busy.”
The night before, I was unexpectedly called into work while spending time with Whitney. Though the decision wasn’t an easy one to make, I ultimately sided with my job and she was upset about that. I could be the first to admit that I placed my passion above my personal life in most instances. But, I really wanted this dream of mine to come to fruition so, sacrifices had to be made along the way. She knew that from jump-street.
“Man, tell Whitney to go ‘head somewhere and find a hobby,” he grumbled, forcing a chuckle from me, “that broad too dependent for me, man.”
Dave couldn’t stand Whitney and the feeling was mutual on her end, too. He felt that she was too whiny and demanding, while she felt that he was a bad influence on me. Dave wasn’t the relationship-type; it would have to take the perfect woman for him to commit. But until he met that woman, strip-clubs had his heart. I couldn’t knock him for that; I used to be the same way before I settled down with Whitney.
“C’mon, bruh. That’s my girl. She’s definitely a li’l needy, but I love her, man. I wanna give her all the things she needs and wants, you know?” I admitted as he frowned in disgust.
“Nah, I don’t know. I could not imagine bein’ whipped like that, especially for a broad like that. But, more power to you ‘cause you gon’ need a whole lot of it when it comes to her annoyin’-ass.”
“You disrespectful as hell, D. Nah, you really are.” I mumbled, pulling out my vibrating iPhone as his laughter filled the car. The number was unknown, but from the context of the text-message, I knew exactly who it was.
“Yo, remember how I told you about Sonya, the girl whose baby I delivered,” I asked, watching as he glanced over at me and nodded his head, “she just got discharged from the hospital so, let’s head over to her crib. I gotta get my car.”
“Oh, yeah. We definitely need to make that detour ‘cause you been cuttin’ all into my schedule.” he grumbled, forcing me to kiss my teeth at his lying-ass.
“What schedule? You don’t do shit. From what I see, Ruiz pretty much let yo’ ass do whatever you want.” I retorted, referring to his boss. Dave worked at this tattoo-parlor, Devil in the Detail, and the nigga was barely ever there. Being that him and the owner were tight, he could get away with shit like that and still get his paper at the end of the week.
Since working there, which had been about a year and some change, he had probably only done like, three tattoos that I know of. He didn’t even go to school for the shit, but his artistic mindset and ability to stencil out ideas was only half the battle. All they had to do was train him and he was set to go.
In almost every situation that he was encountered with, Dave never really had to do much. Shit just came naturally for him. If he didn’t want to be bothered with some shit, he got someone else to do it, or ignored it until the problem was no more. I never wanted to take anything away from my brother, but it always made me question how he would handle real-life problems that actually required his effort.
“You don’t know what I do,” he chuckled as if he knew something that I didn’t, “and, I’on gotta’ tell you.”
“I never said I wanted to know.”
“You asked what schedule so, evidently–”
“Ah, ain’t nobody finna’ go back and forth wit’ yo’ simple-ass. Just shut that shit up and go to 54 Highland Road in Summerlin so, I can get my shit and you can go ‘bout your schedule.” I said my last word through hand-motioned quotation-marks. He grilled me before silently focusing on the road ahead.
“You know, you is really a throne in my side.” he sighed, mocking his mother, who always used that line when we were getting on her nerves. We both bursted into obnoxious laughter as we started reflecting on times when we were truly a throne in her side.
“Yo, look at ya’ car, Hassan. How on Earth did you do that shit?” Dave chortled, pointing towards the dent in my BMW. Shaking my head, I kissed my teeth as I stared at the damage myself. Being that I had gotten sidetracked with delivering the baby, I didn’t really remember, or even so much care for the damage that had been done to my car but, it was turning out to be way worse than I anticipated.
“Some dumb-ass kid rear-ended me, probably not payin’ attention. It’s like every single time I turn around, some bullshit is happenin’ wit’ this car.” I said while mentally calculating the damage and the money that would need to be forked out in order to repair it.
No matter how hard I tried, there were always constant setbacks and hurdles interfering with me chasing my goals. I knew things wouldn’t be easy, but goddamn. Could a nigga catch a break, ever?
“Man, it ain’t too bad. I mean, it’s dented up, but I can call up my boy, Roscoe, and have him fix it for the low. He don’t be chargin’ too much for shit like that.” he muttered as he parked alongside Sonya’s house.
“Yeah, I suppose,” I grumbled while pinching my chin-hair between my fingertips, “are you comin’ in wit’ me? I’m sure she won’t mind.”
“Aight.” he rumbled, shutting the engine and jumping out of his car. Together, we hiked towards Sonya’s front-door, where I knocked and patiently awaited her arrival. The door opened, but Sonya wasn’t the one who answered it. Rather, it was an older, nearly identical version of her.
“Hello, and who are you two gentlemen?” she inquired while looking between the two of us with a welcoming smile. Extending my burly hand, I shook hers, which encouraged Dave to do likewise.
“Well, I’m Hassan and this here is my boy, Dave. I’m a friend of Sonya’s. Would she happen to be here?”
“Um, yes. Come in. I’ll go get her.” she simpered, widening the door for us. Due to the lively decorations and the sound of many voices coming from the living-room area, I assumed that they had thrown her a little get-together.
Peering to my right, I noticed the vase of flowers that I had gotten for her seated on a cherry-wood end-table and grinned. Just then, she entered the main-entrance where we stood and her face lit up with genuine excitement. Beyond our first encounter, where she was cranky and rude due to her pregnancy, I could tell that Sonya was outgoing and a joy to be around. She just had this warm, inviting, and down-to-earth aura that I fucked with heavily.
“Hey, Hassan, how have you been?” she simpered, feeling comfortable enough to embrace me in a hug.
“Good, you?” I smiled, subconsciously taking in her scent before allowing her to pull away.
“Pretty good, pretty good,” she assured before turning her focus to Dave with the same smile, “and, you are?”
“Dave, his friend. You must be Sonya. I’ve heard a lot.” he smiled, extending his hand for a shake that she gladly accepted. I raised an eyebrow; it was always weird for me to see him being polite for a change.
“Good things, I hope.” she giggled, looking towards me.
“Of course. I ain’t got nothin’ negative to say about you.” I chuckled as they both did likewise.
“Oh, here,” she murmured while taking my keys out of her pocket, “if you want, I know a mechanic who can fix that up for you. He’s actually here right now. I could probably get him to do it for a super low price, being that you know me. Maybe even for nothing at all.”
“Um, nah–”
“That’s wassup. He’ll do that.” Dave intervened and I looked at him like he had two heads. Wasn’t he just telling me that he had someone who could handle the damages for me?
“Perfect. Want to meet him and get things arranged?” she offered, aiming her thumbs towards the back of her home. Between them, the decision had already been made with no room for my input so, I simply nodded my head. She motioned for us to follow her lead.
“Why?” I asked, referring to the stunt that he had just pulled.
“‘Cause her boy probably won’t you charge you anything for it.” he grumbled, not convincing me in the least bit. Instead of questioning him any further–not that I had any time to–I stopped behind her in the familiar living-room.
“Guys, this is Hassan, the man who delivered Hassan.” she introduced while pointing at me. As I waved and earned their astonished expressions, I knew that Dave was looking at me crazy. I hadn’t told him that she named the baby after me.
“Ah, that’s how you gon’ introduce me? Just throw me on the spot?” I snickered, remaining humble about the ordeal. I had already received the utmost praise from friends, family, and the practitioners who made a career off of what I did with no experience, but didn’t see the hype around it. I mean, I felt that I had to do what I had to do; I would have liked to believe that anyone in my position would have done the same.
“You didn’t tell me this was the man who delivered the baby,” the woman, who I had learned to be Sonya’s mother smiled, “I thank you so much for being there for my daughter. I’m Nicole, by the way.”
“And, I’m Ebony. Her sister.” another woman smiled, introducing herself to both Dave and I.
“Nice to meet you both,” I grinned, “and, it was really no problem, Nicole. I’m just glad that they’re both happy and healthy.”
By chance, I happened to glance at Sonya and noticed her already staring at me with a smile painted on her face. I smiled back before subconsciously licking my lips.
For a few minutes, we talked with her people in the living-room and I sat with the baby for a little before she asked that we follow her into the kitchen. There, four other people were seated at the island, chilling. I learned through her introductions that they happened to be her best-friends. We sat around the table, drinking and getting acquainted with one another. Just like I detected in Sonya, their vibes were genuine and laid-back.
“So, Noah,” Sonya started, catching his attention, “I need you to do me a favor. Well, more so Hassan, but I’m asking you.”
“Which one?” he pondered, truly confused. Whenever Hassan was mentioned, no one knew exactly which one was the topic of discussion. Sonya laughed and pointed to where I was seated beside her.
“That BMW outside is his and it’s a little wrecked. So, would you mind fixing it up for him, for free?”
“I’m willin’ to pay for it if you need me to, though,” I intervened, not wanting to impose, “just take a look at it and let me know the damage.”
“Nah, it’s cool. After what you did for Sonya, this one’s on the house, my friend. That, and I need a project.” he snickered, fanning his hand as if it were no big deal. While I did have the money to tend to the damages, Lord knows I didn’t want to waste a dime on it. So, I was thankful that he came through.
“Good lookin’ out, man. I appreciate that.” I chuckled before we clinked our beers together.
“See? I told you.” Sonya simpered, nudging my arm. Saying nothing to that, I simply snickered and belted down what was remaining of my alcohol.
For about an hour and a half, we continued to talk and whatnot until at some point, Sonya disappeared with her son. Eventually, her other guests began leaving one by one until only Dave, Noah, and I remained. And, if it hadn’t been for Dedrick and Brooke, who asked me to play with them after spotting me outside taking a heated phone-call with Whitney, we would have been gone. It didn’t bother me, though, because I needed the distraction from her bullshit and kids always did the trick.
“Aight, aight, Brooke won that round,” I snickered while catching up to them near sliding glass-door, “how in the world are you so fast?”
“I dunno, I just am.” she giggled cutely while I wiped my forehead with my hand. I couldn’t believe that these two kids were running me ragged like this. It always amazed me how much energy children possessed.
“I’m fast, too. Right, Hassan?” Dedrick asked.
“You outran me, didn’t you? The both of ya’ll future track-stars.” I snickered, pulling my phone out of my pocket to see that it was nearing six-thirty. It was still somewhat light out, but it was drawing time for me to go home and get up on my studying.
“Are you Auntie Sonya’s boyfriend?” Brooke blurted at a random, stealing my attention from my phone. Dedrick looked up at me with the same goofy smile and inquiring eyes as his sister; I could tell that they were waiting to ask, despite their timing being off as hell.
“Uh, no. We’re just friends.”
“Oh, I thought you were her new boyfriend because Uncle Carter isn’t anymore.” she murmured, making me furrow my brow. Uncle Carter? Now, there was finally a name to the nigga that bailed on his girl and newborn baby.
“Uncle Carter, huh? So, that’s Hassan’s father?” I snooped, trying to get some insight on this guy. It felt wrong of me to be using them for information, but hell, I was curious about this man and Sonya had failed to mention anything to me. Aside from the minimal that she shared with me at the hospital, I knew nothing and for some reason, I wanted to know more.
“Yup, but we haven’t seen him in a long time. Auntie Sonya said he isn’t coming around anymore. She said he has a new job and it keeps him busy, like our Daddy.” Dedrick sighed as he picked up the Spalding basketball and bounced it against the patio cement.
“I heard Mommy and Auntie talking once and she was crying about it,” Brooke whispered to both me and her brother, “it was really sad.”
My meddling didn’t really answer any questions for me; I was still in the dark on why they weren’t together anymore and even more perplexed on why I cared so much. However, despite Sonya’s words, I felt that it was more complex than him just abandoning her and their son for no apparent reason. There had to be more to the story and Dedrick’s new job claim shone some light on it.
“I bet it was,” I sighed, feeling confusingly yet genuinely upset that Sonya was going through this shit, “c’mon, let’s go inside. I gotta go home soon.”
Luckily, the twins obliged on this attempt, as earlier I had tried to get them to go inside and instead, was tricked by pleads to continue playing.
Opening the sliding glass-door, I motioned for them to walk through as I followed behind.
“Did they tire you out?” Ebony chuckled as I closed the door behind me and took in the scene before me.
Dave was seated next to Ebony at the island, babysitting what appeared to be his third beer. Knowing that he and Ebony remained in that same spot at the table talking and shit after everyone had left was crazy. Not in a bad way, it was just that Dave could definitely be the introverted type and to see him actually socializing with someone was new.
“Yeah, they sure as hell gotta lotta energy in ‘em, too.” I snickered, leaning against the island as they waved at their mother before scurrying in search of their father.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” she giggled, shaking her head in the direction that they went.
“So, how old are they?” Dave pondered, redirecting her attention back to him.
“Just turned five in early September. It seems like it was just yesterday when I had them.” she chuckled, earning a light smile from Dave. Before either of us could add anything to the discussion, his phone notified him of a text-message.
“It’s Ruiz,” he grumbled, speaking to me before glancing down at the text-message again, “he needs me down at the shop ASAP.”
“Hm, sounds urgent. Guess that means you’re leaving now?” Ebony mumbled, almost sounding a little disappointed in the fact that he had to go. I furrowed my eyebrows at her tone and expression while he only chuckled smoothly and stood up from the island.
“Yeah, when work calls, I gotta answer. But, I’a be sure to see you around.” he smirked, eliciting a smile from her. Shaking my head, I redirected my gaze elsewhere. Dave was always doing some shit.
I didn’t understand why he was entertaining this woman, knowing that she was married. Furthermore, why was she entertaining him? Either way, I ruled it none of my business. Dave was going to do what he wanted to do, regardless of the matter so, it made no sense for me to get involved.
“Wait, where’s Sonya?” I pondered, wanting to at least say goodbye before I left. Knitting her neatly stenciled eyebrows together, Ebony tilted her head to the side.
“If she’s not in the living-room, then she’s probably in the nursery with Hassan.” she replied as I nodded and hiked in the direction of her pointed finger. Heading up the staircase, I passed the bathroom and stopped at the second room ahead, seeing her sitting in a rocking-chair with Hassan nestled in her arms.
While well out of her sight, I watched her as she stared lovingly at her newborn son. Breaking into a smile while she played with his little hand, she cooed and spoke to him in a hushed tone, while rhythmically rocking back and forth in the rocking-chair.
She looked so calm… and beautiful.
Snapping out of my admirable daze, I caught her eyes as I cleared my throat and stepped into the nursery. To my presence, she smiled warmly at me.
“Hey, I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“Yeah, your niece and nephew kinda held me captive for an hour.” I snickered as she did the same and shook her head.
“That sounds about right. They always prey on the newcomers because they’re the most naïve and never want to tell them no. I can bet they ran you around, didn’t they?” she smiled, bursting into chuckles when I nodded with honesty.
“I can’t even lie, they did,” I simpered, peering around the nursery, “so, li’l man livin’ lavish already, huh?”
The walls were powder-blue, immediately putting you in a tranquil state of mind. As soon as you walked in, there was a white cot in the middle of the room, stationed beside the tan rocking-chair that Sonya was occupying. The changing-table was across from that, fixedly placed near the doorway. There was a white, woven dresser to the right of the cot, that held two stuffed-animals. A matching bookshelf, which already housed some baby-books, was a few feet down from that. All in all, the room was well-decorated.
“Yeah, he’s already pretty spoiled,” she admitted, staring at the empty wall space above his changing-table, “I want to get those wooden letters to spell out his name and put it there. What do you think?”
“That’s a cool spot for it. So, I’m guessin’ you decorated the room yourself, huh?”
“Yeah, this was my hobby while I was pregnant. I’m nowhere near done, by the way. His room will be my little passion-project. I have so many ideas for it. There, in that binder.” she smiled, pointing to the black binder on his changing-table. With a smile, I picked it up and opened it. There were color-palettes with variations of blue, Post-It notes with little handwritten tips and ideas, printed pages of furniture, stuffed animals, and equipment that she wanted to buy.
“Really? A chandelier?” I chuckled, making her giggle.
“It’s just a thought. All of those are thoughts that I probably won’t implement anytime soon. Well, maybe the mobiles and the hamper that I printed out, but not the chandelier. I think that might be too much.” she admitted while I continued to flick through the binder. When approached with a yellow Post-It tab, I flipped the page and saw her plans for the living-room. Similar to that of the nursery section in the binder, it was scattered with different ideas and pictures.
“This is more than just a hobby to you,” I mumbled, glancing up from the binder to make eye-contact with her, “this is your dream. I can feel the passion through the pages.”
“It is. I love interior-design. I went to school for it and everything.”
“So, that must be your job, then?” I asked, furrowing my brow when she chuckled and shook her head no.
“I wish. I work… well, as of now, I don’t work. But, before getting pregnant, I juggled bartending, blackjack dealing, and serving.” she revealed, surprising me. I assumed that Sonya worked in a more sheltered, office-type environment. She just didn’t seem like the nightlife kind of woman.
“Do you like what you did for a living?” I pondered, my previous thoughts hauling that question out of me.
“Well, sometimes. I mean, would I rather be doing something else? Of course. But, this is convenient and the money’s easy. I do wish to really take interior-design seriously someday, but now that I have Hassan, I don’t know how easy that transition will be.”
“It’ll definitely be tough, but if you want it bad enough, you’ll aim for it,” I told her, feeling the need to continue, “I’m tryin’a maintain that same mindset for the restaurant, too. Sometimes I be wantin’ to give up, but I done got this far. Ain’t no point in backin’ out now. You put in the years for school, you might as well utilize that degree. Just don’t let it go to waste, you know?”
“Yeah,” she said softly before smiling at me, “it’s definitely something that I want for me and Hassan. I don’t wanna be out at all these hours of the night when I should be home with him. We both deserve better than that.”
“You do.” I murmured, catching her gaze soon after I said that. Though the moment seemed natural on my end, it must have been awkward for her because she cleared her throat and diverted her eyes.
“So, uh, thanks for coming here today and hanging out with me and my people. You’re like a savior to them, too, so believe me, they were just as honored as me to have you.” she smiled. To be honest, I was through with hearing about anything related to the delivery and moreover, I was through with being praised for it. I was just thankful that both Sonya and Hassan were good.
“Listen, if we gon’ have a friendship of some sort, you have got to stop wit’ this talk. You’ve thanked me enough, Sonya. I did what anyone would have done, or tried to do. Now, promise me that we won’t talk about it again.” I stated before she shook her head in defiance.
“Nope, I cannot promise you that. You don’t know it, but you being there on that day, at that moment, will forever mean the world to me. I was terrified and there was a lotta shit weighing down on me. You know, from coming to grips that I was a single mother, to not really knowing my place in this world. I hide it well, but I was and still am very lost and afraid. And, at my most desperate and vulnerable moment, you were there. It’s something that I will never forget and always bring up when the time calls for it. I feel that I can’t thank you enough.”
Hearing that gave me insight on just how much I impacted her life by being there for her when she needed someone the most. So, as humble as I wanted to be about the situation, it was clear that she was affected in ways that I could not imagine and if she felt the need to often express it, I could understand that.
“Okay, no promises, then,” I chuckled, “I know that, uh, you’re going through some things and I’m just glad that I was there to help when you really needed it. If anything, I’m honored that you think so highly of me when I think so highly of you. Wit’ what you’re facin’, you maintain such a cool composure for your family and friends and that’s somethin’ to admire.”
“I try. I hate having them always worry about me,” she murmured before glancing at the bedroom window, “it’s starting to get dark.”
“Is that your way of tryin’a kick me out?” I smirked as she laughed and shook her head.
“No, I just don’t wanna keep you any longer. I’m sure you have things to do.” she murmured as she placed her son inside of his bassinet.
“Unfortunately. I gotta hit the books tonight. So, I’ma see around?” I asked, not really knowing how things would progress between us. If things had gone differently, this would have been our final encounter, but it just didn’t seem like the end for us.
“I hope so.” she admitted as I engulfed her in a hug. As we pulled away, we both heard the faint sound of a phone ringing from the other bedroom.
“Oh, that’s me.”
“Aight, handle that and I’a let myself out. I’m sure.” I chuckled when she seemed to have hesitated. Then, she broke into a smile and nodded her head.
“Okay. Bye, Hassan.
“Peace.” I simpered as we both ventured in different directions. As I jogged downstairs and turned the corner, I spotted Aaron still seated in the living-room with his kids and Noah.
“Aight, catch you later, my man,” I grumbled, throwing Aaron a nod in which he returned before smiling at the kids, “see ya’ll later. Be good, aight?”
“Okay.” the twins smiled in unison as they both slapped their small hands within mine for a high-five.
“I should have your car fixed up in about three days, my guy.” Noah assured as we dapped up one another.
“It’s no rush. I’ll still be able to get around so, don’t even stress yourself wit’ it.” I rumbled, not wanting to put him on a schedule. After I handed him the keys and we exchanged numbers, I went in search for Dave.
Peering into the kitchen, I furrowed my eyes when I noticed that Dave and Ebony were no longer there. Something told me to head towards the front-door and outside, I saw Dave taking his phone back from Ebony, who wore a seductive grin on her face.
“This fool.” I muttered as I watched him continue to flirt around with a married woman. I knew that I said it wasn’t any of my business, but I was gon’ make it my business to talk to him about it.
“Aight, I’a be sure to hit you up,” he smirked at her, turning his attention to me after I opened the front-door, “aye, you ready?”
“Yeah. See you later, Ebony.” I said, giving her a side-hug before pulling away.
“See ya, Hassan. Bye, Dave.” she sang, waving at him.
“Peace.” he rumbled with less enthusiasm than her before he turned to follow my lead to his car. Before I could get on him about what he was doing, he started talking first.
“Yo, why you ain’t tell me that shit?” he blurted, forcing me to furrow my brow at his random outburst.
“Tell you what, nigga?”
“That she named the baby after you.”
I shrugged.
“I mean, I wasn’t bein’ secretive about it. I just omitted from mentionin’ it ‘cause I ain’t think it was that important.” I said honestly, watching as he hit a button on his key-pad and the headlights flashed, indicating that the doors were unlocked.
“Nigga, how is that not important?” he exclaimed as soon as we both jumped inside of his car.
“Why you so moved over it? It’s just a name.” I snickered. I was floored that she had named her son after me, but I wasn’t alarmed by it like Dave and Whitney were. I understood the sentiment behind it and appreciated the gesture. It wasn’t like him having my first name made him my son or some shit.
“Yeah, your name. How you bein’ so nonchalant over it?” he inquired as I watched Noah get inside of my car, prepared to take it to his shop.
“David, it’s not that serious,” I said, watching him lightly kiss his teeth and lower his eyes at me when I sarcastically called him by his full first-name, “but, while we askin’ questions, is you gon’ tell me why you really wanted her boy to fix my car? ‘Cause that shit you told me earlier ain’t add up.”
“Well,” he began, turning the key and making the engine come to life, “‘cause I think you should pursue that. The whole car situation would give you more of a reason to be around her. I was just lookin’ out. So, no thanks necessary.”
“You damn right no thanks necessary. I got a girl.”
“Yeah, that’s just what she is. A girl. Sonya’s a woman. Hey, listen, I ain’t gon’ pressure you to make the right move. I’m just sayin’ make ya’ next move ya’ best move. Na’mean,” he snickered, nudging me as I side-eyed him and raised an eyebrow, “and, it kinda seem like she feelin’ you, too. No?”
Thinking on our previous interactions, I moved my head in a so-so motion. She wasn’t being flirtatious, or throwing herself at me, but I could see why Dave would believe she may have had some attraction to me. I just didn’t feel that it was for all the right reasons, though.
“Yeah, but it’s only ‘cause I delivered her son. It’s like, blind attraction. She’s displacin’ her feelings ‘cause of that shit. It’s not comin’ from a genuine place.”
“If that’s what you think, then I’ma gon’ head and leave it alone. But, if I were you, I wouldn’t pass that up.” he confessed, blankly staring down at the Rolex on his wrist.
“That’s how you feel ‘bout her sister?” I questioned, addressing the topic of him and Ebony. Snickering, he shook his head and swiped a palm down his mouth.
“A li’l bit, but not too heavy,” he said before releasing a deep laugh, “she got some potential, though, wit’ her fine-ass.”
“Yo, you do know she has a husband, right? The one that was right in the house wit’ their two children? The one that you met?”
“And? What that mean? That ain’t stop her from flirtin’ wit’ a nigga. She bored wit’ her relationship anyway, she basically told me. Her man spend more time at his job than wit’ his wife and kids. He literally pushin’ her into the arms of any man willin’ to take her.”
“So, that makes it aight for you to entertain her?”
“Man, don’t be preachin’ nothin’ to me,” he grumbled, fanning his hand at me, “I ain’t gon’ do nothin’ that she ain’t gon’ allow me to.”
“Whatever, D. I just think it’s foul that you poucin’ on a woman’s vulnerability like that.” I rumbled, pointing at him as he only shook his head.
“I am not. So, I’m droppin’ you off at Whit’s?” he asked, changing the subject because he knew that I was right. I snickered at that before responding.
“Uh, nah. We ain’t speakin’ right now and I got studyin’ to catch up on. I can’t be bothered wit’ it tonight. Just take me home.” I grumbled before he nodded. For the most part, the ride to my apartment was silent as we mulled over whatever was on our minds.
SONYA
“I love these onesies, Ebs.” I chuckled, holding up a red one that had black direction arrows labeling the arm and leg holes, with the phrase, you can do this printed in the center. She had a lot of silly onesies that belonged to Dedrick and now, belonged to Hassan.
“Mom bought him that one,” she snickered before throwing another red cup into the garbage, “it always amazes me how after a get-together, there’s always more cups left than people invited. And, why don’t people throw away shit?”
“‘Cause they figure someone else would do it. You don’t even have to clean everything, Ebony. I’ll do some tomorrow.” I assured. The guests didn’t make too much of a mess, but the house definitely needed a thorough cleaning. Being that I was in no condition to clean while I was pregnant, things weren’t the way that I usually liked them. But now, I could fix it up with no problem.
“You are not cleaning this house, Sonya. And, don’t think I didn’t hear you telling Deidra about moving some things around, either. You’re supposed to be on bed-rest and bonding with your son.” she nagged, forcing a soft chuckle from me. I hated consistency so, I was always renovating and decorating around my house. My house was my personal project; it kept me inspired and entertained.
“Yes, ma’am.” I stretched like a scolded child. Shaking her head, she simply laughed at me and continued throwing away the used plastic dishes. With Hassan nestled comfortably and carefully in my arm, I fished through some of the other baby-clothes that she had given me
“So… I see you and Dave were getting really acquainted with one another. What was that all about?” I asked, attempting to spark some conversation. In return, she playfully rolled her eyes and smiled.
For a majority of the evening, she were chatting up a storm with him with Aaron right there. Now, I wasn’t saying that she wasn’t allowed to have male friends with a husband around, but she knew how men were these days. Although I couldn’t detect it, I knew Aaron probably felt some kind of way about her smiling and giggling with a man that wasn’t him. As her sister, I didn’t really think too much of it; she just seemed so enamoured by Dave that I had to ask.
“Oh, please. He’s not even my type. Too thuggish for me. And, besides,” she smirked, flashing her pear-shaped engagement-ring, “I’m already taken.”
“That never stopped anyone before,” I snickered as she kissed her teeth and went back to cleaning, “so, what were you two even talking about?”
“Well, he’s a tattoo-artist and I’ve been telling Aaron for the longest that I would get his name tattooed right here, on my lower-back. I just wanted to know the pain-level for that area and he said it isn’t so bad. But, then again, he has fifteen-thousand tattoos,” she exaggerated through a giggle while wiping down the countertop, “he said he’ll do it, though.”
“Oh, so you’re actually getting Aaron’s name?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s an idea. What’s wrong with that?”
“I mean… nothing. I just think it’s unnecessary, you know? What if you two split up? Then, you have a tramp-stamp on your lower-back of a nigga you aren’t even with.” I chuckled, reflecting on the time that Carter had almost convinced me to get matching-tattoos with him. I thanked God that I didn’t go along with the plan because that ink on my skin would have lasted much longer than we did.
“That isn’t going to happen.” she muttered just before Aaron ventured into the room with their two sleepy children in tow.
“Hey. He looks just like you, Sonya.” he smiled, peering at his nephew who lied awake in my arms. Brooke and Dedrick followed behind, smiling at the baby, too.
“I know, right? Ain’t he blessed?” I joked, making him erupt into chuckles.
“Auntie, can Hassan come over again sometime?” Dedrick asked, stealing my attention. Sighing, I pursed my lips together and shrugged. I wasn’t too sure that Hassan would come around for the sake of my niece and nephew, but I didn’t want to crush their hopes, either.
“I’m not so sure, baby. We’ll have to see if he can come around when he isn’t busy. Did you have fun with him today?”
“Yeah, we played Hide-N-Seek, Tag, and he taught us how to play Man Hunt, too! He said that maybe next time, he can show me how to throw a spiral with the football.”
“Yeah, and he told me to bring my bike so, he can help me take the training-wheels off and teach me how to ride without them.” Brooke added, forcing me to glance at Ebony, who shrugged, and Aaron, who appeared confused.
“He said that?” I asked with an eyebrow raised. Hassan didn’t seem like the type to make broken promises, especially to children so, I didn’t know what to think.
“Well, he said maybe, if we see him again. That’s why we asked can he come back.” Brooke explained before I glanced up at Aaron, who appeared stumped by their eagerness for Hassan to return.
“Princess, why didn’t you just ask me to teach you how to ride the bike? And you, too, Dedrick. We have a football at the house, I can show you how to throw.” Aaron stated, furrowing his eyebrow.
In no way did I think he felt that his family was being snagged from him. He just seemed confused as to why his own children, who normally came to him for things like that, were relying on a man that they had only met once, and didn’t know if they were even seeing again.
“‘Cause you’re never home when we get home from school anymore, Daddy. I’ve been asking about the training-wheels for a long time.” Brooke exaggerated, making me snicker. I watched as Ebony crossed her arms, probably waiting to see how her husband would handle this problem. She had been complaining to him that he was missing out with the children, but Aaron claimed that the weekends allowed him more than enough time to provide his family with the attention that they needed. What he didn’t take into account was the fact that he slept his family-time away because he was so damn tired from his hectic weekday hours.
“This weekend, Daddy promises to do both of those things with you, okay? I’ve just been a li’l busy wit’ work and stuff. We can even go to the movies on Saturday, too.” he smiled, making them jump and down in excitement.
“Don’t get too ambitious now.” Ebony muttered, believing that no one heard her, but Aaron and I both looked her way. I held an expression of shock; he appeared aggravated.
“Please, not right now, Ebs.” he exhaled while the kids were discussing which movie they wanted to see. She rolled her eyes and continued wiping down the countertop. In the midst of the awkward moment, the only thing that I could think about was why the hell was she flaunting her ring, and further than that, why would she want to get his name tattooed if they were going through this shit? But, to each his own.
Since I was feeling tired and a wee-bit uncomfortable with the tension between Aaron and Ebony, I told her that I would go back to the bedroom to breastfeed Hassan. I had never seen them argue about anything, especially something as ongoing and potentially damaging as this. It was weird for me to be around.
While cartoons played on my TV, I slowly caressed one hand down Hassan’s back and with the other, I busied myself with my phone. Releasing a laugh at something that Ashley posted on her Instagram, I was surprised to see a text-message come through from Carter. I hadn’t spoken to him since the day before and again, I was reminded of the money that he had given me. Sighing, I opened it.
why you didn’t tell me you were discharged?
Frowning, I formed a response.
didn’t know i had to.
Immediately after my text sent through, the three dots appeared, indicating that he was already responding, and it was probably something smart. I did not feel like going back and forth with this boy.
shit, it would’ve been nice to know. i stopped by with my mother because she wanted to see you and Hassan. we brought you food and everything.
do you always have to be so damn inconsiderate?
“Uh-uh, he is not about to…” I muttered while ferociously replying to his text-message.
you should be the last one calling anybody inconsiderate when you have a whole ass CHILD that you refuse to father. but go on.
I knew that, that would trigger his anger, but hell, it was the truth. Had he informed me that he was stopping by the hospital, instead of just showing up as if we were on good terms, I would have made it a priority for Monica to see Hassan. I just didn’t understand how leaving the hospital without telling him made me the inconsiderate one.
fuck outta here tryin’a reverse the situation! my mother wants to see her grandson and she has a right to!
Just as I read that text-message, Ebony was entering my bedroom. Not paying her the slightest bit of mind, I typed my response.
i never said she couldn’t! just have her stop by tmrw WITHOUT you and she can see him. problem solved.
“Who are you texting? Looking all grumpy.” she muttered, closing my bedroom door behind her. I glanced up, thin eyebrows still knitted in frustration.
“Carter. I swear, he aggravates my whole life.”
“Oh, his punk-ass. What happened?” she asked, but I ignored it for the time being as he texted me back. Plus, I needed to give her a run-down of the hospital-visit before I revealed anything else.
i’ll stop by if i want to. that’s my son too.
“He’s just being a pain in the ass. I don’t even know why he’s texting me.” I mumbled as I fed into his bullshit.
yeah, a son that you didn’t want to claim. don’t be using my son as a way to be around me.
As opposed to the idea of our baby that Carter was, he had me truly convinced that he wanted nothing to do with him or me. So, with that in mind, I couldn’t understand why he wanted to be around now. The only thing that I pulled from this confusion was that he just wanted to have me in his life, somehow, someway, and I didn’t like that.
and you don’t be using him as a way to stay away from me.
“Hello, what happened?” Ebony pondered, placing her hands on her hips. Considering the conversation between Hassan and I done, I placed my phone down and turned my attention towards my sister. Just as I opened my mouth to respond, it clamped shut and I furrowed my brow in confusion.
“Where’s Aaron and the kids?” I pondered, abruptly changing the subject. It wasn’t a purposeful attempt, as I really wanted to tell her about Carter and his bullshit. But, I was curious.
“Aaron took them home. He claimed that I was taking too long and he was tired so, I told him to go. I swear, Sonny, he’s been working my nerve lately and I’ve been trying to be understanding so, we can make things work, but he’s pushing me.” she admitted, kicking off her sneakers. While carefully holding Hassan against my chest, I slid aside and patted the bed for her.
“Well, you know these hours are weighing down on him. It’ll be fine as long as you two stay mindful of each other and the kids.” I assured as she laid down beside me.
“Sure, sure. Now, spill the beans.” she chuckled, clearly not in the mood to discuss her own family matters.
“Well, it all started on Saturday when Carter stopped by the hospital a little after you and Mom left. He–”
“What? And, you’re just now telling me?”
“Oh, get a grip. I had plans to tell you. I needed to digest what happened first. Just listen,” I huffed, “he stopped by and basically told me that whether I want him to or not, he will be around for Hassan… financially, that is. He gave me three-thousand dollars and promises to do so every other month. Oh, and he told me that he needs time before he can accept that he’s a father. Only God knows when that’ll be, but when reality hits, he says he promises to be an active father and boyfriend.”
She was silent for a moment before speaking.
“Even though money won’t make up for his bullshit, I think you should take it for Hassan. Being a single-mother is hard enough as is so, do what you gotta do. Most mothers have to take the child support route, but him willingly contributing without you having to drag his ass to court every other month is good. Now, boyfriend? I don’t know about that one.”
“Me neither. I’m not interested,” I mumbled before thinking over that response, “okay, I would be lying to you if I said there weren’t any feelings still there.”
“Sonya, are you serious? This man left you high and dry for nine months when you were pregnant with his baby. There should be no feelings there at all.” she riposted as I kissed my teeth. I always valued my sister’s advice, but she could be extremely misunderstanding. There were times where I just wanted an ear from her, but Ebony didn’t know how to give anything besides tough-love and judgement. Still, that never stopped me from trying to get my point across.
“I get that, Ebs, but he’s my son’s father. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t even have Hassan. I don’t know, I just think… maybe he was scared of the idea of being a father. I mean, before the pregnancy, he was a good man, Ebs. He was really good to me and then, all of this responsibility between owning the casino and having a baby on the way just switched him up. Now, I’m not saying it’s right, but I’m starting to understand his mindset. Listen, I’m stuck with this man for the next eighteen years–fuck that–for as long as my son lives, I’m stuck with this man. I would be willing to make things right, or at least be on cordial grounds with Carter for the sake of Hassan.”
Another deep silence entered the room as she digested my words.
“I still feel nothing but hatred towards that man, despite all that. I understand that you want to do everything in the best interest of Hassan, but for you to even think about taking him back is bizarre. Ya’ll don’t need to be together for Hassan to be a happy kid. I mean, have you ever heard of co-parenting?”
“Yes… but, I’m just saying that if he changed, or reverted back to how he used to be, I wouldn’t mind trying. I don’t want to rule out the possibility.” I said as she shook her head in disappointment.
“That’s just letting him know that no matter how big the fuck-up, given that this one takes the cake, he can always count on you to take him back. He’ll never learn.” she said, emphasizing her last three words.
“I wouldn’t make it easy for him.”
“You sure?” she asked cryptically while raising a brow.
“And, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“You always had a weak-spot for him and having a baby with him just makes it all that much weaker. I mean, two days ago, you wanted nothing to do with the guy. Now, he actually has you thinking about a foreseeable reconciliation? You had on a whole front all this time.” she chuckled as I eyed her with a glare.
“I’m trying to be mature about the situation. For one, we have a son and I will not deprive them both of a relationship that they should have. Two, forgiveness is everything. It won’t be easy, but I’m willing. We need to be on the same page before there could be effective co-parenting. And, I feel that once we get on that same page, feelings might resurface and there’s nothing wrong with that. Especially if he redeems himself.”
“Alright, Sonya. I see you’re headstrong about it and I can’t tell you anything. You’re a grown-woman. In which case, we’ll just agree to disagree.” she said, dismissing the issue while opening the portal to another one in the same breath.
“Can’t you ever be supportive?” I blurted, forcing us to make eye-contact before she kissed her teeth.
“Oh, so now I’m unsupportive because I don’t want to see my sister getting hurt again?”
“I’m not saying that. I just think that you should at least try to see where I’m coming from. You’re so hell-bent on hating him that it’s clouding your better judgement. I don’t like the nigga all the time, either. Trust me. But, at the end of the day, my kid comes before all that animosity.”
“So, for Hassan, you have to put up with Carter’s bullshit? You talking about my judgement, yours is fuckin’ warped.” she argued, missing the entire point.
“Just forget it. You don’t see it and there is no part of me that feels like explaining it again.” I mumbled, growing irritated with her altogether. If I wanted sympathy and understanding, I wouldn’t be getting it from her so, there was no point in trying to get through to her anymore.
“I was done anyway.” she mumbled as I rolled my eyes.
“Whatever.” I muttered, fanning her off as I positioned Hassan a little better on my busty chest.
“Ditto,” she whispered, staring aimlessly at the ceiling before turning her head and smiling at Hassan, “he’s so damn cute. I’m proud of you, sis.”
“For having a baby?” I chuckled.
“No, for having a baby and being so strong throughout the whole thing, despite everything. I know you had your doubts and probably still do, but you’re going to do great. With or without Carter. I know I can be a bitch when it comes to him, but I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t handle it by yourself. I know you wouldn’t want to, but you can, Sonya. You’re stronger than everyone thinks.”
“Thanks, Ebs.” I sighed, sending her a genuine smile. It was funny how we could go from arguing, to making up in the matter of a mere second. Our sisterly bond was just that powerful.
“Did you have fun tonight?” she inquired. Releasing a light, sleepy chuckle, I nodded my head and slowly licked over my lips.
“Yeah, it was great,” I smiled, peering at Hassan, who was lying drowsily awake on my chest as I caressed his back, “it felt good to come home to so much support and love, you know? I needed that.”
“I know you did, kid,” she grinned, tucking her hands behind her head and crossing her legs at the ankles, “so… Hassan?”
“He’s fine. He’s just about ready to go to sleep since–”
“Not that Hassan, fool,” she muttered after kissing her teeth at my oblivion, “the other Hassan.”
“Oh… what about him?”
“That’s what I’m tryin’a figure out. Do you like him?” she pondered, forcing me to slit my eyes at her before rolling them in annoyance. Ah, here we go.
“Why can’t a man and a woman ever be friends without that kind of suspicion? I mean, seriously.”
“Why so defensive? I just asked a question.”
“Because,” I huffed before shaking my head, “no, I don’t like him. Maybe as friends, but we’re not even that so, I don’t know exactly how to answer your question. I like him as a person, I guess.”
“Oh my God, what a political answer,” she giggled, forcing me to do likewise, “okay, I’ll take that.”
“Good, because that’s all you were getting.” I sighed, yawning tiredly. Seconds of silence filled the room before Ebony broke it again.
“He’s good with kids.” she quipped, more than likely referring to Hassan. I furrowed my brow, figuring that there was more underlying her comment than just pure observation.
“Okay.” I dragged before she chuckled.
“I’m just saying. If things were to go past… whatever this is between ya’ll two, little Hassan wouldn’t be much of an interference. I know you talking about fixing things with your baby-daddy, but he seems like such a great guy. Most men stay away from mothers, but he seems comfortable with it. Plus, he delivered little Hassan. That bond between all three of ya’ll is already special.” she said, sounding so sure of herself. Taking my eyes off of the ceiling that I was staring at and to her face, I snickered.
“Okay, firstly, he has a girlfriend, whom I’ve met days ago. Secondly, I’m not interested. I got enough problems. And thirdly, I’ll probably never see him again after today,” I argued as she pursed her lips together unconvincingly, “I’m serious, Eb. The only reason he was around today was to get his keys and then, chill for a bit. After Noah fixes his car, that’s it. From here on out, he’ll be nothing but a memory and I’m totally cool with that.”
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