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shih-coulda-had-it · 4 years

Note

Just i m a g i n e ; Nana and Gran Torino know the friends / almost boyfriends of Toshi and Torino was like; "go away of that blond idiot or I'm going to hit them without mercy" while Nana is; "Sora, let them, are childrens. But if they hurt m’lil Toshi, I'll also hit them without mercy :) ". The boys, (Dave, Sir, Tsukauchi and Aizawa), are scared of the threats of Toshi's parents and he does not realize that his parents have threatened his almost boyfriends. I think that would happen 👀.

Oh, I like where your head’s at. This is technically the beginning of either a recurring arc/a long one-shot in the NanaLives!AU that’s been building as tumblr snippets.

*Note: Sorahiko did not join Nana and Toshinori in the States for several months. He was cleaning up their tracks/records. On a last-second impulse, he asks the Commission to retrieve Kotarou. Kotarou’s reunion is a whole drama of its own, but the end-result is that Kotarou (1) gets therapy (2) gets a whole year off school! (3) gets a whole family!!!

Neither Nana nor Sorahiko are blindsided by the first boy Toshinori brings home. They’re trying not to invalidate All Might’s work by playing chaperone, but they do pay attention to the news. And the news is captivated by the presence of an exceptionally handsome young foreigner popping up to take care of problems.

Problems like the explosion at the local college laboratory.

“Okaa-san,” says Kotarou, enraptured by disaster, “Toshi-nii’s shirt got burned off.”

“He doesn’t know he’s got a camera trained on him,” observes Nana.

“Figures,” Sorahiko says darkly. He’s sitting at the couch, financial paperwork spread out on the coffee table. Kotarou is cross-legged, ostensibly keeping Sorahiko company and doing his English handwriting exercises. Nana had been busy with laundry, but she poked her head in at the first excited cry. “All this work to stay under the radar, and the brat immediately gets trapped in the spotlight.”

“No one will recognize him.” Goodness knows Nana hadn’t, the first time Toshinori tapped into One for All and puffed up.

“Who’s he talking to?”

“He’s talking to somebody?” Sorahiko’s head snaps up at Kotarou’s innocent inquiry, and Nana doesn’t need to see his face to know that he’s studying the grainy screen, eyes narrowed in calculation.

“He looks nice,” she tries. The two boys on-screen are laughing together, bright-eyed and grinning. Toshinori’s new friend is totally staring at Toshinori’s chest.

“Looks like a sycophant,” he growls.

She rolls her eyes. “Toshinori just saved him from a burning building. Gratitude and admiration, along with some heart-eyes, aren’t out of the norm.”

“Hn.”

“What’s a sycophant,” Kotarou says, twisting around when the camera finally cuts away to a pair of commentators. He peers at Sorahiko’s papers like he can understand not only English, but also Sorahiko’s chicken-scratch handwriting.

Long-sufferingly, Sorahiko answers, “A sycophant is a person who always says yes to another person.”

“Oh.” Kotarou dwells on this. “Like you with okaa-san.”

There’s a beat of silence. The first giggle escapes Nana’s valiant grasp, and then she’s leaning on the wall, overtaken by them. Kotarou looks pleased; Sorahiko starts to sputter and defend himself.

Several hours later, Toshinori’s boisterous voice announces, “I’m home!”

“Welcome back,” Nana calls out from the kitchen. Over the course of a few months, her cooking repertoire has expanded to include boxed yellow curry. It bubbles ominously in the deep pan, set over a low heat. “Watch out in the living room, I think Sorahiko’s still napping with Kotarou.”

“Ah.” Nana hears a murmur. Then the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Involuntarily, she tenses and activates Float, her world narrowing down to the question: who is that. Her hands curl into fists, scarred and white-knuckled. She navigates the hallway to the front door and checks the mirror--oh.

Float deactivates. Nana briskly re-ties her hair, shakes out the adrenaline still thrumming in her hands, and steps out into the open with a smile.

“Who’s this?” she asks pleasantly.

Toshinori hasn’t stopped using One for All, but he’s picked up a white “I <3 LA” shirt. While he can stay puffed up for as long as he wants, there’s an unspoken rule to leave All Might in the streets. Thankfully, Nana thinks, Kotarou understands the secrecy regarding Toshinori’s Quirk.

The reason why Toshinori is still All Might finishes toeing off his sneakers. He’s tall, slender, and perceptibly nervous. When he executes a short bow, his shoulder-length hair moves with him.

“Hello,” Toshinori’s friend (boyfriend? Nana wonders, a little alarmed at the thought, because Toshinori can only have known him for four hours, max, and now Toshinori has brought him here, perhaps to meet the family) says in awkward Japanese. “I am David Shield. It is nice to meet you.”

“I understand English,” she says, not unkindly. “Your accent is very good, though.”

Shield exhales in relief. “I wanted to try,” he says, sheepish. “I’ve taken classes, but it’s just--difficult.”

“You need a willing language partner,” Nana agrees. “Call me Shimura-san, David. Are you here for dinner?”

“If it’s no problem.”

“Oshishou,” says Toshinori happily, “Dave’s offered to build me a sturdier suit! I thought the least we could do is dinner, right?”

Then, Kotarou comes barreling down the hallway, only to come to a reeling halt at the sight of someone new. He ducks back behind Nana’s legs, wary of strangers. She reaches back to ruffle his hair, and notes that David looks similarly taken aback.

Dave, however, is apparently going to tailor a new suit for Toshinori. Nana studies the young man and his fine-boned hands--an engineer? a researcher?--and decides that she needs Sorahiko to take a second look.

“This is Kotarou, my son.” Nana smiles reassuringly. “And of course. A friend of Toshinori’s is always welcome. Take your time, boys. It’s chicken curry tonight.”

She retreats back to the kitchen, Kotarou in tow.

“Are you fixing my cooking?” she gasps, catching Sorahiko in the midst of seasoning the pan’s contents. He doesn’t even flinch, and tosses in another pinch of black pepper.

“Little bland. Overall, tastes like the box promised. Good job on not burning it.”

Nana scowls. “This is because we teased him this afternoon,” she tells Kotarou, and Kotarou finally unclenches his fingers from her sweatpants and laughs. She bops his nose with her finger, and informs Sorahiko, “Remember the boy Toshinori saved? He’s here for dinner, and his name is David Shield.”

“What,” says Sorahiko.

“He’s, hmm, offered to make Toshinori a suit, and Toshinori thought he should pay the favor back with dinner.”

“I don’t understand English yet,” Kotarou complains.

“There’s that too,” she adds, but comforts Kotarou with, “I’m sure he’ll understand Japanese if you speak slowly, Kota.”

Footsteps on the staircase. They’re both heavy-footed, Nana distantly registers, and they’re headed for Toshinori’s bedroom. Which is normal for friends to do. Heck, she and Sorahiko used to have sleepovers together. This is fine.

Toshinori has known Dave for, at most, four hours.

Sorahiko sets the ladle to the side. He appears to be tracking a similar line of thought, because he says, slowly, “You know, when Toshinori came out to us as bisexual last week, I didn’t think…”

“He didn’t have anyone in high school,” Nana points out. “If there’s any place to explore romance without consequence, it’s halfway across the world.” She grimaces. “Also, let’s not jump to conclusions. We shouldn’t assume everyone Toshinori brings home is a potential partner.”

“He doesn’t bring people home,” Sorahiko stresses.

“Before, Toshinori wasn’t able to.”

Kotarou’s eyes flick back and forth between them. Incredulously, he asks, “Toshi-nii has no friends?”

They wince. Toshinori has friends the way someone builds a rolodex; many people extend their friendship, and Toshinori accepts, stores their information (name; Quirk; details about family, likes, dislikes) away in his encyclopedic brain, and never pursues a follow-up. It isn’t something they taught him, but it’s not a habit they’ve tried breaking either.

“He has friends,” says Nana. “So, best behavior, okay?”

Sorahiko grimaces. He bobs his head, but Nana assumes he’ll ask pointed questions during dinner anyway. Depending on how good a mood Toshinori is in, maybe their charge will let the interrogation slide. If not, well, Toshinori knows how grouchy Sorahiko can be.

“Okay,” Kotarou replies, oblivious to the byplay. “When’s dinner?”

“Soon,” Sorahiko promises.

(There is a long stretch of time between David Shield and Sasaki Mirai. In the span of this time, Kotarou has grown up and gotten married and had two children. Nana and Sorahiko have officially tied the knot, and they are in the midst of renovating a small apartment complex in Yamanashi Prefecture. Following Sasaki is Tsukauchi Naomasa. Then Toshinori brings home Aizawa Shouta.

“He’s like you,” Nana mourns to Sorahiko, after cheerfully seeing Aizawa off. Toshinori is walking with him to the train station; it’s fifty-fifty on whether Toshinori will spend the night in his own apartment, or in Aizawa’s bed.

“How’s that,” Sorahiko grunts, locking the front door. They trail their way to bed.

“His kids will be his students.”

He glances at her. “Kotarou wasn’t my student.”

“He learned a lot from you anyway,” Nana promptly responds, and he snorts. She’s undeterred. “Anyway, I can only assume he’ll bond with every class, and act as their collective dad. Tons and tons of encouragement, complete with rigorous physical training.” She sighs as she pushes their bedroom door open. “All those extended grandchildren we may never get to meet…”

“Be glad,” Sorahiko suggests. “I can only imagine Toshinori fathering a child with even crazier dreams, and we’ve finally reached a point in our lives where we don’t have to deal with that shit.”

“You’ve jinxed it.”

“I’ve jinxed nothing.”

Four months later, when they are watching the Sports Festival live on television, staring at a fluffy green-haired boy shout ‘Smash’ battle-cries and perform therapy so bad (so well? The result may have been the goal), he’s knocked clear out of the tournament--

“I jinxed it,” says Sorahiko in disbelief, as Nana cackles and starts texting Toshinori to bring home Midoriya Izuku.)

#bnha #shimura nana #torino sorahiko #gran torino #yagi toshinori #all might #shimura kotarou #david shield #nanahiko #shih.txt #ostensibly: davemight #i need like three thousand more words to cover the rest #but i wanted to answer this ask so bad #asks #sxftcxts-uwu

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pug-bitch · 5 years

Text

That’s not why I’m staying (1)

Life of the party

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive, and a steamy scene right at the beginning. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18. This also alludes to disturbing content about consent. No assault scene, but allusions are present.

Word count: about 5,000

Notes: Welcome to my version of Book 2! This picks up pretty much where we left off, the day after the Decision Ball, starting with Amara’s POV. This contains some plot, but mostly lots of fluff. I guess I needed it, after the drama-packed end of Book 1… But don’t worry, drama will come back eventually ;)

*****

Amara smiles softly as she sees Drake’s eyes open ever so slightly. She’s been up a while, and barely got any sleep, but she doesn’t care. Her heart is full, and her mind is determined. She warms her hands on the cup of coffee she snuck up from downstairs, and takes a sip.

‘Babe?’ Drake calls for her as he opens his eyes with difficulty.

‘I’m here,’ she says, walking back towards the bed to embrace him.

‘Hmm,’ he murmurs, leaning into her kiss. ‘You smell like coffee.’

She chuckles. ‘Want some?’

‘Please.’

Amara snuggles up to Drake as he sips from her cup. There, she thinks, that’s what she wants. This level of intimacy, forever. Drake puts down the cup and, now with two free hands, pulls her in for a warm hug.

‘I’m so glad we’re here,’ he whispers.

She smiles. So is she, at the end of the day. What was she thinking? Last night, they ended up celebrating so loudly that they woke Hana up, and she joined the five of them downstairs for lots of hugging and some champagne. When was the last time Amara had felt this much warmth in a room? Besides from her dad and Nancy, and of course Mia, over the past two years… not much.

She kisses Drake more deeply, and asks, ‘So… now that we just have to wait for the engagement tour to start, what are we gonna do with our time?’

Drake laughs. ‘Wow, I don’t know… a whole five days just to ourselves? Pff, problems problems…’

He kisses her neck, and Amara leans into the moment, taking in every second. She needs to remember this. The good. For when it becomes tough again, inevitably. She needs to soak it all in.

Drake hoists himself up until he’s on top of her, and she sees the familiar glimmer in his eyes. The want, the tenderness, the sheer adoration… all of it, all together. Everything he feels for her, everything she feels for him in return.

Amara’s breath catches. Does she deserve all this? This wonderful man, always there for her, even when he knows all of her flaws, all of her mistakes? Maybe not all yet, the voice in her head says. Maybe he will still have a few surprises.

She shakes it off. Stop being so insecure, she thinks. Don’t create problems where there are none, not now.

‘You ok?’ Drake asks, in between kisses.

She nods. Of course she’s ok. She’s with him, right here, right now, and that’s all that matters. She needs to silence that bitch voice in her head, pestering her with self-doubt that she really, really doesn’t need.

‘I’m great,’ she smiles, before kissing him some more.

He smiles back. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he whispers. ‘I love you, Amara.’

His lips go down, and down, and trace a loving path from her neck to her breasts, then to her stomach… ‘I love you too,’ she whispers.

His lips are between her legs now, making her shiver like he knows how to do so well. Her back arches, and he kisses her core passionately, like there’s no tomorrow. She moans quietly, until she can’t keep it in anymore and needs a pillow to muffle her scream. ‘Fuck,’ she laughs breathlessly. ‘Drake, that was so good…’

He smiles broadly. ‘At your service, Suarez.’

She chuckles and guides him back on top of her. He lets out a low groan, almost a purr, as she wraps her legs around him and presses herself onto his length. In less than a few seconds, he’s already teasing her entrance with the tip of his cock, and she can’t wait to have him all to herself again.

*****

‘Wow,’ Drake says as he lies back down. ‘You really know how to start the day, Suarez.’

Amara laughs. Drake wonders if he’s ever heard anything more entrancing than her laugh. ‘Shower and coffee?’ She asks.

He nods. ‘Please. I can already hear the commotion downstairs, Max is definitely up to no good.’

Amara cups her ear and listens carefully. ‘Um… Drake?’ She grabs his arm and bursts into laughter. ‘Is that a goat?’

Drake clearly makes out a bleating sound. He can’t contain his laughter either. ‘Sure sounds like it. Alright, let’s get in the shower so we can investigate this, Detective.’

*****

Amara isn’t surprised to see a baby goat in the living room, but she can’t help but squeal anyway. ‘Oh my God Maxxie, what did you do?’ She screams as she joins Hana in petting the small, delighted animal.

Maxwell pours coffee for Amara and Drake, shrugging. ‘I went to the Farmer’s Market this morning in Ramsford, I wanted to show Michael, and get some produce. My favorite vendor, Gustavo, was there, and he was selling baby goats. I thought this little guy would be a good companion for my peacocks and our two sheep.’

Amara’s eyes widen, the little goat’s head in her arms. ‘Hold up. You have sheep?’

Maxwell giggles. ‘Yeah! Have I never told you? I have five sheep, in the back of the property, they live with the peacocks, and our property manager, Silvio, takes care of them full time! Have I never told you, Little Blossom?’

Amara laughs, ‘No, you certainly have not. Can we please see them today? What are their names?’

Maxwell gloats in anticipation. ‘Well, there’s five of them, right? So, I named them Bobby, Jonathan, Antoni, Karamo, and Tan. Some of them are girls but you know, gender’s a construct.’

Hana and Amara share a look, and both burst out laughing. ‘That’s the most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard,’ Hana says, wiping a tear.

Maxwell beams. ‘Right? So, what are we gonna name this little guy?’

Drake, coffee mug in hand, squats to pet the goat, and Amara can’t help but notice the wide grin on his face as he plants a little kiss on the goat’s forehead. ‘It has to be an awesome name, as handsome as this little fella, you know. We can’t name him something boring, this guy deserves the best name.’

Amara gasps. ‘I know! I have the perfect, handsomest name ever.’

Hana smiles. ‘What is it, babe?’

Amara looks the goat in the eye and solemnly declares. ‘Bradley Cooper. His name has to be Bradley Cooper.’

Drake almost chokes on his coffee and Michael laughs wholeheartedly. ‘I see the obsession is still going on,’ he says.

Amara shrugs. ‘Not an obsession. Just the recognition of the best actor of his generation, y’know.’

Drake raises an eyebrow. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I like the guy, but… we’re talking about the man who starred in The Hangover, babe. Think about that. Think about how terribly this movie has aged. Think about Ken Jeong emerging from the trunk. Think about Bradley Cooper’s line when they’re waiting for Ed Helms outside of his apartment.’

Amara thinks for a second, and shrugs. ‘It’s not like Bradley wrote the movie, Drake.’

Drake throws his hands up. ‘I give up. Max?’

Maxwell grins widely. ‘It’s perfect. Welcome to the world, Bradley Cooper-Beaumont. We love you.’

*****

‘So? What did you think of the Fab Five?’ Maxwell asks anxiously.

‘They’re soooo sweet and so cuddly,’ Amara exclaims.

Hana nods. ‘I love how they just run towards you as soon as you get there, and how they instantly adopted Bradley Cooper!’

Drake chuckles. ‘Will I get used to that goat’s name, ever?’

Michael pats his back. ‘Let time work its magic, Drake. It shall pass.’

They both laugh. Amara smiles at the sight of her friends and family getting along, and without even realizing it, reaches for her phone in her pocket. Still no texts. Well, some from her dad, with whom she’s been texting since he woke up, but none from anyone else. Her heart sinks a bit. She contemplates writing another, but she promptly gives up. She doesn’t want to stalk her, either.

Drake swoops in from behind her and grabs her hand. ‘Whatcha doing?’ He asks, all the while knowing exactly what she’s doing.

Amara shrugs and squeezes his hand tight. ‘Nothing. Checking my phone.’

Drake brings her hand to his lips and kisses it. ‘She’ll come around. She’s stubborn as fuck, but if there’s one person who can do no wrong in her eyes, it’s you, Suarez.’

She smiles faintly. ‘I don’t know about that.’

*****

Olivia turns her phone over, one more time, and when she sees nothing on the screen, turns it face down again. She takes another sip of coffee and a bite of her eggs, angrily.

‘Still mad?’ Rashad asks as he plants a kiss on the top of her head.

Olivia shrugs. ‘I’m not mad. It’s just funny how the bitch thinks my advice is shit when I deliver it, and then two hours later, she decides to do what I told her to do.’

Rashad raises an eyebrow. ‘So...you’re mad that she took your advice? I don’t follow.’

Liv rolls her eyes. ‘You’re pretending not to follow. It’s annoying.’

He chuckles. ‘Well, you’re right, I’m following. I just don’t understand your logic.’

She snorts. ‘No one does.’

Rashad thinks for a second and takes her hand. She doesn’t flinch. ‘Liv, I think you’re mad at her out of principle. But think about it. She went through something shitty last night, and had a gut reaction. Can you blame her?’

She shrugs again. ‘Yes.’

Rashad chuckles. ‘Alright. I guess you can.’ He starts pulling his hand away, but Olivia holds on to it, without meeting his eye.

She sighs. ‘For the record,’ she says, looking down at her cup of black coffee, ‘I didn’t come here because I needed you. I’ve wanted this for a while, now we’ve finally boned, end of story.’

Rashad’s smile falters. ‘End of story?’ He asks worriedly.

Olivia bites her lip. That’s not what she meant. At all. Fuck, how is she going to spin that one without seeming too eager? ‘You know what I mean,’ she says. ‘I mean that I don’t want to talk about that whole Suarez shit. I know what you’re thinking, that I came to you because I was sad or whatever.’

Rashad shrugs, a shadow still over his eyes. ‘Honestly, Liv, I’m glad you came to me, and I just hope you don’t regret us having sex for the first time in these circumstances.’

She snorts. Why does he have to be such a good guy? She needed comfort last night, that’s true. Not that she would admit it, but she did. She felt betrayed by Suarez, who she considered to be...ugh, not worth putting words onto it. She takes a deep breath. ‘I’m fine. And, if you must know, it was fucking hot. No regrets here.’

He smiles a little and digs into his eggs.

She did fucking love it. They did need to break the tension. No regrets.

Still, it feels a bit...anticlimactic. Is it how it feels to have sex with someone you actually like? Sure, she had sex with Liam many, many times over the years, and ugh, boy, did she have feelings there. But he was unavailable. It was noncommittal.

Here and now, as they share breakfast, and she’s wearing no makeup, while Rashad looks as comfortable as ever in his sweatpants, Liv can’t help but feel… too safe?

Maybe she’ll tell Suarez about it, sometime, when she stops hating her guts.

Who doesn’t listen to Olivia Motherfucking Nevrakis?

*****

Liam hasn’t slept. At all. He watches the sun rise on his country, as he sits on his balcony in his boxers and dress shirt from last night, his head full of regret. He replays the events from after Leo left last night, in his head, and cringes at the memory.

Madeleine getting impatient and knocking on the door of his study. Their small talk. His discomfort. Her advances.

His attempts to create a diversion by offering her a drink. Her insistence at having a nightcap in his suite.

The knot in his throat as he caved.

His inability to say no any further.

It would have been suspicious if he had said no, right? She would have known he was up to something. She needs to feel comfortable and safe if they want to successfully investigate her and break the engagement. Right?

He swallows his saliva, and takes a hesitant peek in his bedroom, through the French windows. She’s still sleeping, soundly, sprawled in his bed.

He had believed her. Like an idiot, he was convinced that she was the only one who still cared about him. Until the ball, until his stupid eyes were open by the picture of Amara’s assault.

He closes his eyes tight. It’s not a big deal, right? Everyone forces themselves to do things they don’t want to do, sometimes.

Even that. Even something that you’re supposed to completely want.

Right?

*****

Drake stands in front of the stove, and flips the pan expertly. He can get used to this: cooking for his friends, with his girl keeping him company. Amara is sitting on the counter next to him, and playing with the ingredients as they chat about life.

‘This is gonna be so good,’ she says. ‘Have you made this before?’

Drake chuckles. ‘Sausage and peppers? Of course. It was a staple of the Walker household.’

She smiles. Is there anything more heartwarming than her smile? He thinks not. ‘Did you cook for your family, always?’ she asks.

He shrugs. ‘I did, sometimes. Dad was always in charge of grilling and he taught me how to take care of meat and fish. I love cooking fish above everything else. It’s delicate, precise, and so satisfying when you get it right. Mom was more into baking, and making hearty dishes like mac and cheese. Efficient stuff when you’ve got two kids that you need to feed quickly.’ He laughs. ‘And boy, did we need to be fed. Sav and I were always big eaters.’

Amara smiles a bit wider. ‘That’s really sweet. So were we. I remember Mom making chilaquiles, and Sergio and I were so impatient to eat them that we would literally wait in front of her. She’d roll her eyes and be like ‘Chiquitos, you’re not gonna make me cook any faster.’ When she baked, it was the same. I’d just stare at the oven hoping it would bake faster.’

Drake steps away from the stove to plant a sweet kiss on her lips. He loves when she shares memories like that. They both need it. ‘Did your mom cook mostly Mexican specialties?’ he asks.

‘I’d say half and half. She liked hearty American food like your mom, too! And my dad, well he grew up in Pennsylvania with Puerto Rican parents, so his comfort food is a mix of both.’

Drake smiles. ‘Sounds delicious. You’ll have to tell me about your favorites and I’ll find recipes.’

She gasps excitedly. ‘I could even send you my mom’s. Sergio and my Dad numerized her cookbook years ago, because when she passed away, they both picked up the slack in the kitchen and wanted to remember her this way.’

Drake’s heart pangs. ‘That’s such a sweet initiative. I’d love to see some of her recipes. I’ll try to cook Marisol-style!’ he says excitedly.

Amara’s smile that ensues could melt Drake’s cold heart, if it wasn’t completely melted already, all because of her. She says in a breathy voice, ‘I’d love nothing more, babe.’

‘Hey guys, need any help?’ Michael asks as he walks in. ‘I guess I mean...Drake, need any help, as Amara just stares at you without helping at all?’

Amara giggles and throws a dish rag at him. ‘I’m here for moral support!’

Drake chuckles. ‘I’m all good, but you can look in the fridge if anything appeals to you. Max bought a bunch of food this morning, in between buying farm animals, y’know.’

Michael laughs. ‘Yeah, full disclosure, I was with him, and I could have stopped him but...the goat was too cute.’ He reaches for a bunch of radishes and a head of lettuce in the fridge. ‘And to be perfectly honest, it felt good to be out and about in a very normal setting. No sash people, no viscounts and dukes and whatever, but just a farmers market.’

Drake smiles. ‘I feel ya. Well, in this case, we should all go out tonight, somewhere in Ramsford. Suarez, what do you say?’

Amara joins her hands together. ‘Yes! It would be awesome! Plus, Michael’s only here for a few more days, we need to make them count.’

Michael makes an excited face as he washes the lettuce. ‘Seriously? That would be great. A normal place with normal food?’

Drake looks at Amara with a victorious look on his face. ‘My man,’ he says softly, pointing at Michael. ‘Yes, a normal place and all. Ramsford is good for that. We’ll see what Max recommends, I have a few favorite places but he knows more.’

Michael smiles widely. ‘He is the life of the party.’

Amara chuckles. ‘Oh, you’ve noticed?’

*****

Drake’s lunch is a success, as always. Amara enjoys every bite, as well as conversation with her friends. Even Bertrand is in good spirits, and got over the whole goat debacle quickly. He doesn’t like when Maxwell spends money, but ever since they stopped paying off Albert the blackmailer, they are a bit more comfortable.

Hana nods excitedly at Maxwell’s suggestions for bars and restaurants. ‘That sounds so great!’ she exclaims. ‘We’re all going, right?’ she asks, looking at Bertrand.

He chuckles. ‘It’s really sweet of you to include me, Hana, but I think with all this um… drama, as you youths say it, I need to get some rest tonight.’

Amara rolls her eyes. ‘Us youths? Bertrand, you’re barely older than Michael. Calm down.’

Bertrand smiles. ‘I suppose so. But Amara, with everything we’ve been through, I just want to be in my robe and relax.’

Amara nods. ‘I don’t blame you. Your robe looks very comfortable and, most importantly, has a lot of tassels.’

Bertrand blushes. ‘Um, yes, indeed it does.’

Maxwell bites his lips to stop laughter from coming out. ‘Alright, let’s leave Grandpa Tassel alone tonight then, but Bertrand, we’re not taking no for an answer tomorrow, we’re doing something. We need to enjoy Michael’s company while he’s here.’

Bertrand nods solemnly. ‘Yes, you’re right. We need to honor our guest.’

Michael smiles facetiously and makes quick eye contact with Maxwell. ‘Thank you, Bertrand. Your hospitality means a lot.’

Amara can’t help but notice the brief looks of complicity between Maxwell and Michael. She hadn’t seen Michael be so social in years. Even before Sergio passed, Michael was always the studious one, the serious one, while Sergio was...well, also the life of the party. Hmm, she thinks. Could this be something?

‘Amara,’ Maxwell insists, ‘did you hear me?’

She shakes it off. ‘Oh, sorry, I was in my thoughts. What is it?’

Maxwell looks at Drake, and at Amara again. ‘I was asking, do you want me to invite Liv tonight, or not? She would definitely like the vibe at Zeno’s, but I don’t want to include her if you guys are still...tense.’

Amara’s smile falters. ‘No no, invite her. If I’m the one texting, she won’t answer. We need to put an end to the bullshit.’

Maxwell nods. ‘I’ll ask if Rashad wants to come, too.’

‘Oh, the sexy smoldering guy from the ball?’ Michael inquires. ‘He and Olivia seemed very close.’

Amara smiles. ‘Yes, and yes. They’re kinda dating. See? You’d make a good detective, too.’

*****

Maxwell reflects intently as he focuses his eyes on his closet. ‘No, not this,’ he murmurs.

Michael sits on his bed, feeling awkward about having to, once again, borrow clothes. ‘Max, seriously, I can wear what I have.’

Maxwell turns around and smiles at him. ‘You can, you’d look good in anything, really. But I want to give you options!’

Michael smiles. ‘Thank you. I really need a clothing intervention. I do dress like a lawyer,’ he says, looking down at his outfit made up of beige chinos and a plaid shirt. ‘If we’re going to a hip place--’

‘We’re not,’ Maxwell interrupts. ‘Whatever you’re comfortable with will be great. But I have some clothes that would look better on you than they do on me. Let me find them…’ He digs deeper in his closet. ‘Ah!’ he says victoriously. ‘Here it is. The shirt.’

He presents an emerald green shirt to Michael, who almost recoils in fear. ‘Jeez, Maxwell, it’s very green. I know I wear these colors sometimes, but… isn’t it a bit much?’

Maxwell smiles as he holds the shirt against Michael’s face. ‘No. It brings out your eyes. You can wear it with your chinos, or jeans. You have jeans, right?’

Michael nods. ‘Yes.’

‘What cut?’

Michael raises an eyebrow. ‘I’m not sure what this means.’

Maxwell smiles. ‘It’s ok. I have jeans that you will like.’

*****

Hana and Amara are sitting outside in the sun, a margarita in hand and Amara’s nail polish collection sprawled out on the table for them to choose from. Amara looks out to the pool, where Drake is swimming laps. She doesn’t even realize that she’s staring at his body as he gets out every now and then to take a sip of his water.

Hana smile mischievously. ‘Amara, honey, do you need binoculars?’

Amara shakes her head. ‘Oh shit, Hana, I’m sorry. I promise I’m not a perv. He’s just so…’

Hana laughs. ‘Oh, I know. I’m gay, not blind.’

Amara chuckles. ‘Alright, back to business. What are you wearing tonight?’

Hana nods seriously. ‘I’m gonna go with my coral sundress, with my light brown wedges.’

‘Great choice. You wanna go for a light nail, or a metallic?’

Hana thinks intensely and finally says, ‘I think I’ll go with your gold polish. Is that ok?’

‘Of course, great call. I’m gonna wear my ripped jeans and a yellow top, so I’ll go with the light gray. Good?’

Hana smiles. ‘Perfect. Amara, I’m so glad you stayed. I don’t know what I would have done without you here.’

Amara takes her hand. ‘Same. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ve found my people, why did I want to leave?’

Hana smiles broadly. ‘Right? I feel the same way. I know my parents are leaving me tons of messages, but I’m not ready to listen to them. I want to enjoy my time with you guys, and go on the engagement tour.’

‘Plus, the tour ends in London, and you know what that means,’ Amara says in a sexy voice while wiggling her eyebrows.

Hana blushes. ‘I do know what it means, since you’re not being very subtle.’ She smiles and twists the nail polish open. ‘We’ll see what happens. For right now, I’m happy to be here.’

‘Agreed.’

She continues, ‘On another note, did you catch all the little looks between Maxwell and Michael? They’re totally inseparable,’ Hana whispers.

‘I was just thinking that. It’s nice to see Michael be close with someone. Who knows where it might lead, but it’s just nice to see, you know,’ she says, avoiding eye contact.

Hana paints her nails intently. ‘I can imagine. Michael seems to relax a bit, and tonight will help too.’

‘What are you guys plotting about?’ Drake asks as he walks out of the pool and towards the nail painting station.

Amara chuckles, ‘Nothing babe. I’ll fill you in later.’

‘Don’t come out yet, Drake, here we come!’ Maxwell exclaims, running towards the group on his bathing suit. Michael follows slowly, shyly covering his body with a towel.

Amara sits up and asks eagerly, ‘Maxxie, did Liv get back to you?’

Maxwell, still running, cries out, ‘Not yet, Little Blossom. But I gave her all the info and she’ll know where to find us!’

Amara looks down at her nails, silent. Drake sighs and puts his hand on her back comfortingly. ‘She’ll come around, baby. I promise.’

*****

‘Looking good, man,’ Drake says as he catches Michael looking at his reflection in the hallway.

Michael jumps up, startled. ‘Oh! Thanks, Drake. Is it too much, though?’

Drake shrugs. ‘I don’t think so. Green looks good on you.’ He walks to the drink cart and pours two glasses of whiskey. ‘Here you go,’ he says as he holds one out to Michael.

‘Thank you.’ He smells it. ‘This is good stuff.’

Drake smiles. ‘It really is, huh? Max doesn’t skimp out.’

Michael smiles and sips. Drake takes out his phone and looks at the text he just sent out.

I know she hurt your feelings, but she came around and apologized. Don’t let your fucking pride take you away from a friend. We’re both new at this opening up shit, I get it, it sucks to be vulnerable, but it’s also fucking satisfying to be surrounded by people who care. Don’t fuck up.

He wonders whether he cursed too much, but oh well. It’s sent.

And read, without a response.

He sighs and looks up. ‘Sorry, Mike. Hey, what do you wanna do tomorrow? I can take you on a tour of Ramsford in my Jeep if you want me to show you around.’

Michael’s face lights up. ‘I’d love that. I want to call Callie tomorrow when she’s awake, but otherwise I’m all free.’

Drake smiles. ‘Good.’ He glances at his watch. ‘I guess we’re the fastest ones to get ready around here. When I left Amara, she was agonizing over which earrings to pick.’

Michael chuckles. ‘Max picked my outfit, so I have absolutely no merit in being quick.’

As if on cue, Maxwell appears on top of the stairs, Hana and Amara on each side. ‘Gentlemen, may I present you the two most beautiful women in the world!’

The girls chuckle and roll their eyes, they all yell out to Bertrand to wish him a good night, and they get on their way.

*****

Amara fidgets in the car, her hand in Drake’s. She is sitting in the middle, between Drake and Michael.

‘You ok, babe?’ Drake asks. ‘Nervous?’ he points to her shaky leg.

Amara promptly stops. ‘Sorry. I’m fine. I’m excited to have fun, I promise.’

Maxwell glances at Drake in the rearview mirror, a worried look on his face. Amara notices it right away. She knows it means Max didn’t hear back from Liv. She hates that she feels so nervous about it, and she especially hates that Drake and Max are, once again, worried about her. She sits up and takes a deep breath. She needs to grow a pair of ovaries and stop being this fragile little bitch who is always in danger of having an anxiety attack.

She needs to enjoy life, dammit. It will be hard enough to sneak around and investigate while on the tour, the least she can do is enjoy her five days of freedom, and make the most of Michael’s presence.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Maxwell parks in downtown Ramsford. ‘Alright guys, I’m designated driver tonight, you bitches go crazy, I’m there for you!’

Amara smiles broadly. ‘Max, I can bet you that we’ll end up taking Ubers back. No way you’re not getting lit.’

Maxwell laughs. ‘You may be right. This is a 24-hour parking lot, detective. Either way, we’re good. Let’s go!’

They get out of the car, and Amara walks with Drake, her hand still in his. Zeno’s is a cool bar, not too hip but definitely nice, with an outdoors section full of greenery. As they walk in, Amara finds herself relaxing. This is definitely normal, with young couples all around, and too many people for them to get noticed. Maxwell picked the perfect spot.

‘First round on me,’ Drake announces ‘Everybody tell me what you want!’

Hana requests a margarita, and everyone follows suit, except Michael who wants a lager.

Drake smiles. ‘Babe, help me carry?’

They make their way to the bar, their bodies close to each other. Amara holds Drake’s belt loop so they don’t get separated by the crowd. This place is really happening.

They plant themselves in front of the bar, and Drake orders for everyone, and opens a tab. Amara nuzzles in Drake’s arms, taking advantage of the crowd pushing them together. She buries her head in his chest.

Drake chuckles. ‘You’re not afraid of being seen?’

Amara smiles, ‘Not really. Too crowded. Plus, it’s not my fault if people are forcing us to get close.’

‘Good excuse,’ he whispers in her ear as he squeezes her shoulder.

‘You look hot tonight,’ she murmurs. ‘I love you in black.’

‘And I love you, period,’ he says softly.

‘You guys are sickening.’

Amara whips around instantly. ‘You came!’ she exclaims.

Liv rolls her eyes and adjusts her top. ‘Of course I came. Walker threatened me via text.’

‘I did not,’ he protests. ‘I tried to convince you, that’s all.’

Liv snorts and orders two double vodkas. She pauses and says, ‘It’s not all for me. Rashad’s here with me.’

Amara smiles. ‘I’m glad.’ She hesitates, then throws her arms around Olivia and pulls her into a hug.

‘What the hell are you doing, Suarez?’ Liv asks disgustedly.

‘Hugging you. Lean into it,’ she replies.

Liv rolls her eyes again and slowly hugs Amara back. ‘Fine. That’s your one hug. You used it up.’ She pauses. ‘And never fucking blindside me again like you did yesterday. You made me be your friend, now you have to act like one.’

Amara lets go of her and grabs a couple of glasses from the bar. ‘Agreed. I fucked up, I’m really sorry. Now, can we please get drunk together and show my brother how shit gets done in Cordonia?’

*****

Taglist:

@drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @andy-loves-corgis @jovialyouthmusic @mariahschoices @drakesensworld @thequeenofcronuts @notoriouscs @drakewalkerisreal @nikkis1983 @simsvetements @alesana45 @iplaydrake @emceesynonymroll @lily1999love @drakewalkerwhipped @drakewalkerrosenberg @drakxwalker @drakeswalkers @drakelover78 @silviasutton1989 @dcbbw @texaskitten30 @furiousherringoperatortoad @hollygirl1269 @sirbeepsalot @ladyangel70 @thisperfectmemory @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @mrsmairstanley @addictedtodrakefanfic @msjpuddleduck

Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

#that's not why i'm going #that's not why I'm staying #drake x amara #drake walker x amara suarez #drake walker #amara suarez #dramara #drake x mc #drake walker trr #drake walker x mc #trr drake #the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic

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