#rupert snow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

raebaekaedae · 1 year

Text

SCWR Short: “Diamond in the Rough”

Series: SCWR Shorts Rating: PG-13 (Foul Language) Takes Place: During Volume 1, between Episodes 3 and 4 Summary: (1,589 words) “After an unforeseen schedule change, Haddy finds himself with an afternoon off. Deciding to use his time wisely, he tries to navigate the confusing halls of Beacon Academy to find a weapons lab to tune up Sleigh... instead, he finds two of his classmates...”

Why must Beacon Academy be set up like a maze? Never in his life did Hadrian think he would ever miss the rigid, overly organized, structured planning of Atlas… but here he was, turning corners in vain as he wandered around like an idiot. All he wanted to do was tinker around with his rifle, but that meant having to find the Weapons Lab, which was hidden away somewhere within the bowels of the Huntsman Academy…

It was a Friday, but his afternoon classes had been canceled after Mrs. Heather and her assistant, Mr. Port, were called away to deal with a minor grimm attack outside the city. Robyn and Ryder were playing videogames in their shared dorm and Monroe claimed she had some errands in Vale that needed attending, leaving just after lunch. So, he was free to finally roam and explore, deciding that the first thing on his list was to try to buff out some of the scratches on Sleigh’s stock.

After finally finding a holographic map that he could download to his scroll, Haddy could navigate to his target… on the fifteenth floor. No wonder he couldn’t find it.

Opting out of the stairs, Hadrian stepped out of the elevator and into the hall. It was the same as every other hallway in Beacon, but the classroom doors were spaced further apart from one another. He peeked into the first open door he saw, finding a large, open training room with a complex, aerial obstacle course; that could be fun to try out later. With a smile, he continued on, reading each nameplate as he passed.

As he came closer, he could hear voices in conversation. Hadrian’s shoulders slumped as he quietly sighed, he’d really hoped that he’d have the Lab to himself. It sounded like only two people. If the Lab was as large as the other rooms on this floor, he could probably just sneak in and take a station in the corner.

“... I’m just saying, Golden Boys makes more sense…” one voice said with a very slight, but deeper drawl.

There was a chuckling scoff as the other voice, much more beautiful and smooth, but definitely also masculine, “That could be for any of us. That could be our whole team’s nickname for all we know. Chatterley’s Knights sounds so much more sophisticated.”

“Did you even read that book?” the deeper voice asked, exasperated, seemingly offended by the mere suggestion.

“Of course not,” the other laughed, “That’s what I have you for…”

There was a brief pause, before the deeper voice flatly said, “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

“Mmmm… if you lose your train of thought, we can leave.”

By this point, the husky had reached the door to the Lab. It was cracked open, allowing the sound to roam free– and entry if his feet would move– but Hadrian just stood outside dumbly staring at the door with a raised brow. He knew the voices inside, they belonged to one of his quite popular classmates and said classmate’s teammate. However, the tone they were using made him question whether or not they’d welcome him in right now…

The deeper voice purred back, “If that’s your plan… you know so many better ways to make me lose my mind…”

Okay. Nope. He was not doing this today.

Hadrian turned on his heel to walk back to the elevator in embarrassed silence. He hadn’t even taken a step before his scroll went off, the loud cawing of Qrow’s text message alert screaming through the crystal quiet hallway. He froze, tensing up as he refused to turn his head back towards the now silent Lab.

After a long moment, the deeper voice muttered under his breath, “Shit…”

“You can come in,” the, now embarrassed, softer voice said.

With a short grumble of his own, the dark-haired faunus pushed his way in through the open door, sticking his hands as deep into his pockets as he could as soon as he was inside, letting the heavy door close behind him. A few stations into the Lab were two blond boys. Gene Aurum and Lambert Aur of Team GOLD. Lambert was sitting in a roller chair, his katars disassembled on the workbench in front of him. They were out of his reach as Gene was sitting on the table blocking his view.

Lambert was slightly shorter than Ryder, but almost as lanky as Hadrian. He was very well toned with tight, compact muscle built to dance around foes and deal blows rather than avoid them despite his height. He had his arms crossed against his chest with a thin-lipped frown scowling his face with lines. He had shoulder-length, curly, dusty blond hair that he usually kept tied up in a tiny, high ponytail with the rest flowing down.

Gene, on the other hand, was drop-dead gorgeous. He was easily the most popular guy at Beacon because of his stunning beauty and charm, not to mention his fighting capabilities. His blond hair was brighter and a tad longer than Lambert’s, usually held up elegantly with a braid or two thrown in. His skin was tanned and flawless. Average height, a body sculpted from marble, and thighs that Ollie would have KILLED for. He usually wore a small amount of makeup to brighten his already stunning face, highlighting his killer cheekbones, jawline, and beautiful amber eyes.

Had Hadrian not found out about “Diamond in the Rough” before he met Gene, he would have died at the mere sight of him. It did make his heart ache just slightly from time to time when he saw him in class though.

Like, seriously, the man looked like how Haddy imagined a male version of Aphrodite would look.

And that wasn’t even getting into the model of a man’s personality and charm. How could one person be so perfectly beautiful, both on the inside and–

Focus. Bi-panic later.

He must have been lost in his thoughts a LOT longer than he thought because both of the golden boys were staring at him with crossed arms now. Haddy quickly motioned back towards the door and stammered out, “I was just coming to do some work, but I don’t want to interrupt, so I’ll just be going…”

“Wait!” Gene called, reaching out to stop him, “Uh, would you do us a favor and… not mention this to anyone?”

Lambert scoffed, throwing his head back before he flicked it over to Gene and harshly stated, “Oh c’mon. Of course, he’s gonna tell. He just transferred here, he has absolutely no friends or street cred, no life– I mean, seriously, it’s a Friday afternoon and he’s in the Weapons Lab– and now he has the world’s biggest scoop on the most popular dude in school? We’d be lucky if the whole school, Ozpin included, didn’t know before dinner.”

“A. Ow,” Haddy stated, a little dumbfounded by the blond’s bluntness, “B. Rude. C. I’m not a dick, I’m not gonna out anyone. D. What do you mean no life? You’re here too, and you have a freaking boyfriend you could be out on a date with right now–” Which got a short, hardy laugh out of Gene, “– And E. Why does it matter? Everyone already knows?”

Again, Lambert snorted in irritation, “Wow, you really are new here. Dude, no one knows.”

He felt his brow furrow as he turned to Gene. The handsome blond nodded, agreeing with his boyfriend as he hopped down from the table, “I appreciate that you won’t say anything, but, Lamb’s right. Ru and Doron– our teammates– don’t even know.”

Hadrian stared in disbelief for a beat-and-a-half, almost letting his jaw drop, before he quickly snapped back to reality and explained, “You– You guys do know my dorm is right beside yours, right? We share a wall.”

“Yeah?” Gene replied, confused, “What does that have to do with anything?”

Again, the husky just gaped for a minute before he stated the obvious, “Uh, I live with Monroe.”

He watched in slight amusement as all the color drained from both their faces instantly, realizing that Monroe had probably known for a LONG time about their relationship given her semblance. Lambert quickly stammered out, “Cade wouldn’t say anything! Hell, she didn’t say anything to us.”

“Yeah, but, we share a room with Robyn and Ryder too.”

“Oh shit.”

Hadrian smiled softly, adding, “I know I haven’t been here for too long, but I’ve been here long enough to know that Robyn has an extremely hard time not talking, and Ryder isn’t very good at keeping secrets...”

Lambert ran a hand through his hair as he sighed, “We are so screwed…”

“Um,” the husky added, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure it’s just our class that knows.”

“That would explain why Pygmy stopped hitting on me in second year…” Gene muttered.

“... And why Doron and Rupert never seem to bother us on a date night…” Lambert added.

With a smile, Hadrian turned back to leave the pair to grapple with the fact that their secret relationship was the worst kept secret in all of Beacon, pausing as he looked back and said, “Oh, and it’s not Golden Boys or Chatterley's Knights, by the way.”

When the blonds looked up, Haddy smirked, “It’s Diamond in the Rough. That’s what we called you guys…”

Without another word, he walked out, catching Lambert’s drawl just before the door closed, “Wait. Who’s the Diamond and who’s the Rough??” followed by Gene’s howling laughter.

7 notes · View notes

hope-to-hell · 4 months

Text

Night Gardening. Loki x Möbius. Dreams are just the brain processing past events. They’re not real, even if his senses tell him otherwise. Right? Smut and purple prose out the wazoo.

———

Okay. Don’t break him. He can take so much more than you think but apply stress from a certain angle and he’ll shatter like— what’s that thing? Prince Rupert’s drop? Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. That’s the thing he saw once down in Engineering, crushed under a hydraulic press— only it wasn’t crushed. It disappeared, and when the press rose again it bore a hole in the shape of the drop. Glass stronger than steel, stronger than unstoppable force: it was strong, yes, but when Mobius held it in wondering hands he fumbled and it shattered— disintegrated— landing on its wispy tail and it was gone.

So he’s scared, you know? Reaching out means maybe getting what he wants, and maybe taking back a chilled and empty hand. He breathes out on a shudder and strains to hear Loki’s words through the haze of this dream, in this hollow in time carved out by sweat and tears and the iridescent shine of maybe it’ll be alright. Maybe I’ll wake up and

You’re wandering again.

There you are. I was afraid I’d be here all by my lonesome. Levity runs in Mobius’ veins; he can’t ever seem to get out ahead of it to find the words he needs to say and so he trails behind hoping the meaning comes through just the same.

If you were, you’d soon be unmade. And, okay,

Harsh. But listen. I know none of this is real, okay? I know you’re just something I’m making up while I sleep. But I still gotta ask. Are you alright? Ask stupid questions and get no answer. But he knows Loki well enough to clock the minute twitch of his jaw

(not alright, not for a long time, but there’s something on his mind and it’s more than just the Tree)

and how familiar are they that he can see it even here, in the flow of innumerable worlds? Okay, not the time. I get it. If ol’ tall dark and self-sacrificing over there wants to get something off his chest, he will— even if it’s coded in the flick of a finger or that way he has of shifting his weight just so. And anyway, this is a dream so Mobius can do whatever the hell he likes, right? He can even close the distance between them til he smells juniper and snow as he breathes Loki in deep. Easy, hoss. I should’ve done this when I had the chance.

And oh, if this is a dream then may he never wake up. If there is any justice left then let him remain here, half-draped over Loki with that clever tongue silenced, breathless— let him live out his days with this tremble in his thighs from trying so damn hard to keep himself in check. I used to know how to do this. I think. Doesn’t matter if he’s out of practice or if the angle is all wrong; all that matters is the way Loki strains to meet the kiss.

But for all his strength, Loki is bound in place: he is jailer and prisoner— no, that’s not right, he’s a conduit, a gardner— as infinite possibilities course electric through him and he cannot rise, cannot reach out, cannot pull Mobius down by the lapels and give him everything he never realized he could ask for. I— ah. I can’t— and please, please understand that Loki doesn’t bare his throat to just anyone. This is a gift. This is the pulse of artery and vein, of xylem, of phloem— yes, yes, somewhere in the distant unknown you passed a science class or two— and if they only get one chance at this, he’s gonna give it all he’s got.

And Mobius is so goddamned careful right up until the moment Loki nips at him, following sharp teeth with a lick that says I’d drink you up if I could.

Did you say that? Or did I?

Darling, does it matter? Oh. Oh, the word slips into his ear, past grey hair gone just a little shaggy, tip-tapping over his eardrums and hey, yeah, okay, he likes that. He likes that a lot. Mobius breathes in a single sharp breath and on the exhale pours himself down Loki’s throat: all of his being compressed into a single breath, tinged with salt spray and stubble-rough around the edges; it’s not nearly enough, but it’s all he has.

And Mobius shoots off in his pants like a damn teenager; he’s all spreading stickiness and it’s just too goddamned much but he isn’t finished yet. So he drops his head and threads one hand through Loki’s hair as the other is fumbling, searching for buttons, a zipper, anything— how do I get these open, did you forget that when you get the trousers on you’ve still gotta take them off—

Laces. There, just to your left and he’s in, nails catching at the knots; in his idle moments Mobius might’ve pictured this, but slower: maybe somewhere quiet outdoors with sunlight slipping lazily over his back, Loki’s hand closing over his— open your eyes. I want to see you— but this is worlds better; this is the ache between his shoulders and the drag of skin on skin; this is Mobius licking bitter salt from his palm and reaching for more; this moment does not crystallize but rather atomizes, drifting up and into the branches of the Tree.

Damn, I wish (I— we— could’ve found another way,) I mean, I want (more time. Why is there never enough time)— next time I’ll buy you dinner first. In the dream a little self-indulgence won’t go amiss; he can concentrate and maybe the next time he sleeps he’ll be able to come back and do this properly. Maybe he’ll follow the thread of this unraveling dream back to its beginning; to this place where he doesn’t have to hold so tightly to his memories, watching them fade out slowly til they’re just amorphous feelings. Maybe he'll stay a while and watch the ebb and flow of life through the branches of the Tree.

But the dream ends, as all dreams must; Mobius awakens with his head pillowed on one arm, the sleeve of his jacket pressing its imprint into his face; he breathes slow and quiet, rubbing his thumb across his first two fingers, listening hard for a fading whisper:

I tend to many worlds, but remember— the gods do play favorites, and I play for keeps.

#loki #loki series #lokius #loki x mobius #lokius fic #lokius smut #Loki x Möbius fic #Loki x Möbius smut #mcu

26 notes · View notes