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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.4

Lance kept the rear view mirror on the two strangers in the back. The shorter one of the two was unfairly hot. Lance might never have had sex, out of fear of losing self control, the fact he was monster, and he didn’t know if he was going to knock some poor stranger up with some half vampire kid, but he knew well enough that the man was edging on his type. Untalkative, the man had his arms crossed, hand clutching the raspberry slushy Pidge had forced upon him. He looked as impressed to be in Lance’s car, as Lance was to have him there.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is it that you three do that has you out so late at night?”

Lance did mind. Thanks to Pidge these two strangers had been committed to memory for the rest of his undead life

“Man, you don’t want to get Pidge started...”

Hunk was also uneasy. He’d found his way into the bag of chocolate eclairs, the pile of wrappers now more than the chocolates left

“Oh? Pidge?”

“We’re paranormal investigators. You’ve heard all about Garrisons blood past... well, we’re going to be the first to capture it all on film”

Shiro raised an eyebrow, Lance accidentally meeting his eyes in the mirror, quickly averting his gaze back to the road

“Oh, but Lance is a lawyer... He’s the serious one who doesn’t believe in ghosts”

Thanks for that Pidge, now Shiro’s attention was on him

“You’re a lawyer?”

“Yep. Got the fancy piece of paper and everything”

“Wow. What kind of law do you practice?”

“Family”

Yeah, Lance knew his manners were lacking, he didn’t need Pidge kicking the back of his chair like she did

“Ah. That must be tough”

“Some days are worse than others, but it is what it is. What do you two do?”

It was on the tip of Lance’s tongue to mention the photography thing, but being a dumb human meant they didn’t always remember what was said

“That’s right, you said your brother was into photography?”

Aaaaand the attention was back on Pidge

“Yeah, Keith likes to take photos, it’s more a hobby than anything. I’ll save you the details and just say I’m in finance. Not terribly interesting”

Great. A finance guy right next to the registered hacker of the group...

“Sounds boring”

Shiro snorted a laugh. Lance cursing mentally that he now had Keith’s name in his head

“It has its moments. So you guys are into the paranormal? Ever see anything?”

“Not yet. But you never kno-ooow. Watch where you’re driving!”

Turning onto the dirt road that lead to his house, Lance could have probably been gentler on the ditch. Each year the council filled the damn thing up, only for it to all erode away with the first rains of the year

“If you’re not used it by now, you never will be”

“That’s because you can’t drive for shit”

“It sounds to me like you want to walk home in the morning”

“I’ll be good”

Lance’s lips betrayed him with a smile. Pidge would never “good”, her rebellious behaviour was just another thing about her to love

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve told me that a hundred times and I’m still waiting”

“Oh, shut it, dad”

“If I was your dad, you’d be grounded for life”

“That’s fine. People suck anyway”

“With no wifi”

Pidge lunges forward in her chair, an arm coming around him in a hug

“I’ll be good! Please don’t take my wifi away”

“As if I could. You’re the one who set it up”

“Oh, right. Guess I don’t need to be that nice to you then”

Licking his cheek, Lance wrinkled his nose

“You’re so fucking gross”

“You love me”

“That I do. We’re nearly home. Sorry it’s not much, I don’t really have visitors over. And I hope you’re not allergic to cats, Blue likes to shed all over the place”

In the back, Keith scoffed

“What kind of a name is “Blue” for a cat?”

How dare he insult Blue and her perfect little body of complete perfection. Blue was Blue, his number one girl, not a number one emo reject in the backseat of a strangers car because he hadn’t bothered learning basic maintenance

“I don’t know, what kind of name is “Keith” for a mullet”

When Shiro laughed, Lance was certain it was the man’s first real and genuine laugh for the night

“He’s got you there”

“Go fuck yourself”

Pidge laughed as Keith sulked. If he wasn’t good at taking a joke, then he shouldn’t be dishing it out. Not that Lance was one to talk

“Don’t mind him. He gets cranky when he’s sleepy”

The wrinkles between Keith’s eyebrows deepened at his brother’s explanation

“You’re the one who could have just got a hotel room”

“And you’re the one being rude. Lance, and his friends, are doing us a favour”

“Or they’re going to murder us in our sleep”

“Nah, man. That’s too much effort. I’ll make you a deal though, you don’t murder us and we won’t murder you”

Keith seemed even grumpier at Lance’s joke, Lance just anxious to reach his house already. This was terrible idea, a disaster in the making, and the plot of a pretty average b-grade movie. One thing was for sure though, he wasn’t wearing a matching bra and underwear, pretty much guaranteeing he wouldn’t be the first one murdered.

Parking by the steps of the porch, the rain started pelting down as Lance cut the ignition. Relieved to finally be home, he could see Blue sleeping on the windowsill of the living room, having decided to ruin yet another set of vertical blinds in her search for the perfect napping spot. Seeing her was what brought the greatest relief, not the warm light filtered between the blinds, and the knowledge his house would be nice and warm with his bed waiting for his tired arse. Opting to leave the equipment in the car for the night, Lance figured he’d collect it once the other’s fell asleep. All Pidge needed was the camera cards, and her laptop, which she was small enough to climb into the trunk for. God. He really didn’t want strangers in his house, judging things, and even worse, touching things. He liked all his things and he liked them where they were. Routine was key to keeping his sanity, and familiarity helped his Mami whenever he brought her home for a visit.

Fleeing from the car, they all managed to get themselves wet despite the short distance. The rain didn’t bother Lance, not when he couldn’t actually catch a cold from prolonged exposure to the cold. It was his guests his had to worry about

“Come on in. Leave your shoes by the door and I’ll grab us all some towels. Shiro, you and Keith probably don’t have a change of clothes with you, so I’ll lend you some robes now. You can chuck your stuff in the machine, then put it in the dryer before heading to bed. Hunk, wanna show them through the kitchen? I know we’ve got snacks, but I would kill for a glass of red”

“You got it, buddy”

The look in Hunk’s eyes seemed to question if he really wanted Shiro and Keith to know where Lance kept his knives. Hunk was too polite to blurt that out, not like Pidge who had no filter

“Out the way losers, I’ve got a date with my princess”

“My princess, is sleeping on the living room window sill. Don’t blame me if you get scratched”

“That’s just her way of telling me how much she loves me”

“Or how much you drive her insane”

“Rude, much. I’ll meet you guys in the kitchen when I’ve got my Blue”

Pidge pushed both her slushies over to Hunk, Hunk seemed nervous about left alone, but mentally rallied as he managed a smile

“The kitchen’s through here”

With three robes and a bundle of towels, Lance returned to the kitchen where Hunk had started stress baking. The signs were obvious, from the flour next to the mixing bowl, to Pidge sitting on the kitchen bench with an unhappy looking Blue held in her lap

“Sorry, some lazy arsehole didn’t sort the linen closest”

It was lie. He simply, really, truly didn’t want to deal with his visitors. Passing Shiro and Keith a robe and a towel each, Lance went on to wrap a towel over Hunk’s shoulders, then throw Pidge’s at her. Catching the towel, she managed to keep Blue contained in her lap, despite Blue’s displeasure

“Let me guess, that means you?”

Lance’s big blue eyes widened, shocked Shiro would make a joke

“Damn, Lance. I think I might just like this one”

“Oh, bite it, Pidge. Yeah. That lazy arsehole’s me. Even if there were more hours in the day, I’d still probably spend them sleeping. Did Hunk offer you guys a coffee?”

“Already on it, man. I’m whipping up some butter cookies to go with the tea”

Lance sighed to himself again, mentally of course because his mother would have smacked his arse had he done it out loud. He didn’t do guests for a reason. The feeding them thing was annoying

“I hope you don’t mind, but can you show us where the bathroom is?”

Right. They were wet. He was wet. He was supposed to be human, which meant sliding his robe on over his clothes, or rather starting too then realising it wouldn’t go on over his jacket. God. He was making an idiot of himself.

With his jacket over his chair, Lance flashed Shiro and Keith a smile

“Yeah, through here. You guys can go ahead and take a shower if you want. I mean, seperate showers, or whatever, no judgment if you’re into that kind of thing. Sorry, I’m not used to visitors. Feel free to use whatever you find in the guest bathroom, most of it’s Hunk and Pidge’s stuff they’ve left here, but there’s fresh soap bars and spare toothbrushes in the second drawer”

Someone needed to shut him up. Stitch his goddamn lips together, then bury him until his embarrassment worse off. Lance’s moves were still as he led his guests from the kitchen to the bathroom

“Here we go. I’ll put you in the spare room down here, and we’ll sleep upstairs. There’s not much down here, just my office which is the end room. Your room will be the next door up, it’s got two twins in there, so plenty of space. Pidge set up a charge pad, because you guys probably didn’t bring your chargers either. If you go all the way the other way in this hall, you’ll reach the laundry. Everything’s out in the open, so help yourself. I know this is awkward as fuck, and probably is for you two, but there’s no saying no to Pidge once she thinks something is a good idea. Oh, yeah, don’t be afraid to take your time, if you get lost, give us a yell”

Shiro thanked him, towing Keith into the bathroom by the arm. Lance not going to question that one. Not at all. Nope. Nooo... God that family had some good genetics though. Under all his brooding pouting, Lance had caught sight of Keith’s eyes... Eyes like two small galaxies had been captured and shoved in there. How they were so damn purple when he was human, Lance didn’t know, but fuck it was unfair.

When the bathroom door closed, Lance headed down to the office. Pidge couldn’t be trusted with electronic locks, leaving him the only option of dead locking the door. His explanation was that the cases he worked on deserved privacy, which his two friends respected. He’d let them in the office once to satisfy their curiosity, Pidge finding the sheer number of books boring. On the outside it appeared a normal office. Bookcases, filing cabinets, his framed diploma, laptop, printer, all those sorts of normal office things. His desk was organised around the clutter, that totally wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help he had a weakness for quirky stationary. His current favourite pen was decorated with dancing cacti. The small things in life helped him deal with life’s less than pleasant things. Under his desk were the only two anomalies of the room. On the left, instead of drawers, was his wine rack. On the right, behind the drawers, was his fridge. Lance might be the worlds biggest klutz with his glasses on, but he wasn’t stupid enough to leave his blood bags where everyone could see them. Locked behind a heavy iron door, the previous fireplace of the room meant no one paid much attention to the outside protrusion where it once sat. He’d kept the decorative tiles in place, making a feature of it around his desk in order to keep the questions to a minimum. When it came to time leave his current set up, he was going to be devastated.

With precious minutes ticking down, Lance grabbed himself out the blood pack he’d started for the day. He never let himself go hungry, but with two strangers in the house it was better he let himself have a small feed just to keep his nerves in check. Grabbing down a wine glass and the closest bottle of Shiraz, he poured himself a double before pouring in a good double shot of blood. The bag was O+, not his favourite, yet not the worst. He wasn’t one of those blood snobs that only every drank one type. He was grateful for what he could get, and more grateful to the people who donated their blood under their own free will. Naturally they were compensated for their blood and their time, Coran who ran the blood bank in Platt wasn’t a man to be messed with. Lance knew Coran wasn’t human, yet he had no clue what race he was, nor did he have any idea the race of his niece Allura who often helped out. The pair of them were the coordinators for most of Platt city, and the surrounding area, providing safe blood for those not in a coven or forced from a coven due to whatever reason, with in reason... He knew they weren’t human, as neither of them had aged a single day in all the years he’d known them... which was a pretty long time when he stopped to think about it... which he definitely didn’t have time to right now.

Straightening up his office, Lance then headed back to the kitchen. Hunk busy with the cookies he’d just placed in the oven, while Pidge was sipping on her slurpy. Blue knew she wasn’t supposed to be on the kitchen table, yet gave zero fucks, Lance striding over to scoop her up and pepper her with kisses, after placing his glass down carefully

“Who’s daddy’s good girl?”

Blue shot him look that expressed how little she thought of him, done with his craziness and protesting of her less than regal treatment

“Yes, I know. You don’t care, you just want your wet food and the blanket turned back on. It’s such a hard life”

Stooping to let Blue down, she gave him a look of disgust before licking at her fur as if to erase his pats. Picking up his wine glass again, he took another sip, feeling the way the blood coated his mouth as it slid down easily

“Well, that’s done. They’re in the bathroom now, doing whatever. I still can’t believe you volunteered my house”

Pidge shrugged

“I know if it was Matt who was stuck, I’d want someone good to help him out. I promise to pay for anything that gets damaged”

“Damn, girl. How much they pay you for that tour?”

Pidge shrugged again. They both knew she wouldn’t be paying, if she tried Lance wouldn’t let her

“Enough”

Matt was a bit of a tricky topic. He was a firm believer in all things paranormal and supernatural. For all her enthusiasm and research, Matt dwarfed Pidge’s knowledge by a long shot. Apparently when Pidge was younger Matt had got himself in a bit of jam chasing ghosts, since whatever had happened, he’d left to track things all across the world. Pidge missed him fiercely, and was left constantly cranky with her brother at his lack of regular updates

“Speaking of Matt, have you heard from him lately”

Lance was glad Hunk was the one asking, he’d stripped Pidge bare of all her defences, keeping her secrets at the same time as keeping her grounded

“Not for something like 3 months now. Dad said he was in Italy the last time he checked in with him. Mum worries herself sick when she doesn’t hear from him”

“Pidge, if he’s anything like you, then he’s fine. You Holt’s are a touch bunch”

Pidge sighed, Lance sympathising over how hard it could be not to hear from your siblings. There was nothing like the love and hate that came with having a sibling. Half the time you want to murder them in their sleep, but god help anyone else who messed with them. His whole family had changed after he’d been turned, they’d aged while he remained the same. Now he was getting depressed.

Sliding off the counter, Pidge threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce hug

“I just... really miss him”

“I know you do. I’m sure he misses you, but he’s like you and once he’s off chasing something time looses all meaning”

“Yeah. I mean, I know he is, but sometimes it really...”

“Fucking sucks”

Pidge nodded as Lance finished her sentence for her. She was just a baby, while he was an old man of 44

“Have you messaged him lately?”

“Everyday”

That had to hurt even worse. 120 plus messages left on read

“Until he comes back, you’ll have to be happy with the two of us”

“I mean... if I reeeeeeally have to”

Hunk turned from the oven, enveloping both of them in a bear hug

“Group hug!”

Pidge laughed, faking an attempt at squirming her way out. Hunk laughing too as he lifted them both off their feet for a moment. Lance’s poor wineglass barely surviving the ordeal

“You two are stuck with me”

“Yep. We sure are. And we’re the luckiest people alive”

Well, Pidge was alive. His undead arse sure wasn’t getting any closer to living

“Okay, that’s enough, losers. I’m gonna go set the tapes up. Hopefully we’ll see something good”

“Or not. Not seeing anything is good too. Lance, go make sure she doesn’t edit the video in some way... I’m going to have nightmares tonight as it is”

“I’ve got you, bud. Come on, Gremlin. Let’s go set up your videos”

Lance had nearly let himself forget there were two strangers in his house. He couldn’t actually forget, but he was trying his damn hardest as he let Pidge’s techno-babble wash over him. He’d never met Matt in person, but Pidge’s missing him was bringing up how much he missed his own siblings. Mami would let him know how they’re doing, keeping him in the family loop. It had to be Papi’s funeral when he’s last seen them all. Lance lying through his teeth that he was named after his father, Lance, to pass off his young looks. He missed his papi. His papi had worked hard all his life, a farmer through and through, with every analogy somehow farm related. Especially when it came to his tractor, that was the man’s default go to when explaining anything, or attempting to have a father and son chat. He missed him something fierce, like he missed his siblings. None of them had invited him to his papi’s wake, Lance felt like he shouldn’t even be at the service, but his Mami gripped his hand and kept him close the whole time. She was the only one who wasn’t afraid of him. Lance hated them all for leaving him, but he loved them all because when they were kids things were so much less complicated. Late night bonfires, hunting on the farm, surfing, dancing in the rain. Huge family Christmas’s where it felt like everyone in town showed up. Kids in and out the the house, not like Christmases now days where he’d spend time with his Mami in the morning, taking her to church for mass then out for a drive, blow off his friends, binge bad rom-coms come evening and cook a feast up for Blue.

Smacked in the face with a flying TV remote Lance was forced back out of his self loathing shell. He had a good life, and even better friends. There was nothing wrong with the way he lived, and he had a sense pride in the work he did. Not all cases went his way, but he his head on better than most as far he was concerned

“What the fuck?”

“That’s for tuning out when I was trying to talk to me”

“You hit me in the face”

“Good. I was aiming for you chest, if that help”

Lance rose a finger to poke at his eyebrow where the remote had hit, there didn’t seem to be any blood, so he supposed he could let Pidge off

“You have my undivided attention. What did I miss?”

“I was saying it’s good to go, whenever Hunk gets here”

“You know he’s really going to have nightmares tonight”

“Then he can crawl into bed with you”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Uh, hello. I’m a girl, and Shay’s a girl”

Lance rolled his eyes

“Really? I hadn’t noticed”

“I’m just saying, don’t wanna make things complicated”

“There’s nothing going on between you two. It’s fine, you’ve shared a bed before”

“But not when Hunk was this close to finally getting a girlfriend”

Pidge held her fingers together, rather than the normal tiny gap

“Fine, but he sleeps in your room and you sleep with the light on”

“What are we? Twelve?”

“Awww, did little Pidge sleep with the light on all the way up to 12?”

“Oh, fuck you. You’re only like 2 years older than me. I bet you kept your night light on until you last night”

Pidge’s face said she was thinking over her words, knowing that something didn’t quite sit right in what she’d said, but if he was to point that out, he’d be hit for having the nerve

“Yep. I’m completely hopeless. Who knows what lurks in the dark. What if the monster under my bed attacked my feet because they hung over? What would I do then?”

“You’re such an arsehole”

“Hey, Blue has a stage where my toes were her mortal enemy”

“I’m going to tell Blue you’re going around telling everyone she’s a monster”

“By definition, all cats are arseholes. She knows she’s the cutest little monster that’s too tiny to take me down”

“Dude, she’s got you wrapped around her little finger?”

“Oh, so Lance has a girlfriend?”

Caught up in Pidge, Lance hadn’t heard Shiro approaching. He damp near jumped out of his skin at the unexpected voice

“No, this loser is unlucky in love, like the rest of us”

“Ah...”

Shiro sounded confused, Lance embarrassed

“We’re talking about my cat. She’s a pint sized monster. She’s probably going to be cranky all night because I didn’t give her more wet food”

“Ah, I see now...”

The silence that fell was awkward as fuck... Right. He had to be a good host

“We’re going to watch what Pidge filmed tonight, if you’re up to it. Hunk’s cookies should be done soon...”

“Oh, I was thinking Keith and I might just head to bed. You know, get out of your hair”

“Dude, you have to try Hunk’s cookies. They’re like a gift from god”

Shiro gave a nervous laugh, not everyone got Pidge’s humour, or brashness

“When you put it like that, how can I say no?”

Pidge clapped her hands

“Excellent. Now, the most important thing of all, do you believe in ghosts?”

“I can’t really say one way or another. I do have a friend that’s into that sort of thing”

“Then the next time you talk to them, you’re going to sound like a total expert. Sit down and buckle up, it’s time for an adventure into what lies beyond”

Pidge waved her fingers as her voice adopted a spooky tone for the “what lies beyond” part. Poor Shiro was coping Pidge totally nerding out. At least if she managed to scare him away, Lance wouldn’t have to worry about crossing paths with him, or his brother, ever again. Ugh. Being nice was exhausting.

#once bitten twice stupid #vampire Lance #vld au #ashratherose #mpreg #waaaaaaay future references #klance

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fullmetalscullyy · 4 years

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hawkeye’s return

summary: Hawkeye returns to Central after being stationed in Ishval, awaiting further reassignment. Havoc invited her out for a drink upon her return, only to see his old friend has changed.

additional tags: friendship, hurt/comfort, best friends, these two are best friends and you can pry that hc from my cold dead hands, ishval civil war, character study, pre-canon, hint of royai, hint of havolina

read on ao3 | rated: t | words: 4382

this has been sitting in my wips for over a year (it was originally for camp nano last year) and i finally found a plot for it that really caught me and wouldn't let go

kind of a character study of hawkeye from havoc's pov, post ishval

Jean Havoc was a tall man compared to his peers. He always felt like he towered over everyone else, which was a blessing in busier areas. He could always see over crowds and pinpoint an objective or the person he was looking for. In the busy bar in East City it was easy to see over the throng of people to spot the woman he was looking for.

He was excited. Jean grinned as he recognised the back of her head. He hadn’t seen her in almost a year. Riza had just got back from Ishval last week. She’d sought him out at headquarters, appearing as if from nowhere, and Jean had asked her if she’d like to go out for a drink that Friday night to catch up.

They’d become close friends in the Academy. Riza, Jean, and Rebecca were almost inseparable as they went through basic training. However, Riza had expressed an interest in fighting in the war and given her skills, their superiors had fast tracked her to the front lines, moving her from basic training to more Ishval-specific training. A week later, she was gone from East City, and Jean hadn’t heard from her until after she returned.

He’d tried writing. He wasn’t the best at letters, much to his mother’s chagrin. Jean always found he had no idea what to say and started rambling about something that held no significance, but he tried for his best friend. Given the reports it wasn’t pretty over there. Jean knew that would be the case, even without the reports. Even if Riza didn’t feel like writing back to him, Jean had hoped she’d at least receive them and read them. It would be a comfort from home, if anything.

He hadn’t received anything in return.

Always trying to look on the bright side of things, Jean had pushed down the uncertainty and uneasy feeling that had settled in his stomach after he spotted Riza sitting at the bar, her shoulders hunched as she nursed a drink in front of her.

“Riza,” he called, his voice carrying over the ruckus.

Her shoulders tensed and Jean’s smile wavered. Still, he pushed on forwards. Jean sat on the stool beside her, leaning his elbow on the bar top and his head upon his fist. He beamed at her. Despite her posture and her reaction, he really was excited to see Riza again. It shined through as he greeted her after almost a year apart.

“Hey,” he grinned. “Long time, no see!”

Riza spun in the bar stool and Jean took in her features. She looked… different. The first thing he managed to pick out was in her eyes. Riza looked exhausted. Had she been sleeping? She’d always had some trouble sleeping in the Academy but had never looked as worn down as she did now. Not only that, her eyes looked weary. Like they’d seen too much.

Jean swallowed, turning to face the bartender as he approached, asking for Jean’s order.

“Hello, Jean.”

He picked out how her voice wavered. Glancing back across to her, he noticed how her eyes turned downwards to stare at her drink. A whisky, Jean noted. It was a little early to be starting on the whisky, Jean thought, but Riza had always been able to hold her drink better than anyone he’d ever met. Her fingertips gripped the glass tightly, the ends of her nails turning white. Letting out a breath, Riza relaxed her shoulders as the beer was placed before Jean.

“How are you?” she asked. Riza was always more reserved of their trio, softer spoken, but was never afraid to speak up and laugh along loudly with him or Rebecca. When she asked her question, Jean had to strain to hear her. She was too quiet.

Jean shrugged. “I’m doing all right. Same old, same old. Got out the Academy, finally. It felt like I was never going to pass that final exam,” he stated dramatically. He wasn’t exactly the most studious person in the world, but when he put his mind to it, he could get it done. He didn’t pass with flying colours, but a pass was a pass in his book. He didn’t care about what grade he got. Plus, he’d more than excelled in his practical and firearms training. He was guaranteed to graduate just from them anyway.

The corners of Riza’s lips quirked up, and she turned her gaze to meet his again. She didn’t shy away this time.

“How did you do?” she asked.

“I passed. That’s all I needed to know,” he chuckled, knocking back his beer. “It was horrible though,” he grimaced.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Only having Rebecca to tutor my sorry ass was awful. She can be mean.”

Riza laughed this time, and it lightened the weight in Jean’s stomach. Her smile reached her eyes, just like old times.

With anyone else, he wouldn’t have studied them so hard for any changes, but this was different. This was Riza. One of his closest friends, who’d managed to drag his stupid ass through the paperwork of the Academy and get him a passing grade. This was the woman who’d stuck up for him and taken the blame for half the dumb things he’d done. He’d misfired at the range once – no one was hurt, and it was all downrange, but their instructor had been furious – and while Jean stood there panicking, Riza stepped in before him, announcing to their instructor that it was her. The Colonel liked Riza – and hated Jean for some unknown reason – so just scowled at her, berated her, stating he expected better from Riza Hawkeye. She was dismissed with nothing further. If it had been Jean, he’d be cleaning the toilets at the range with his own personal toothbrush for a month.

So, Jean was really worried for her wellbeing. He hadn’t known what would be coming back to him. He still didn’t. Physically, nothing was amiss. Mentally however… She was still an eighteen-year-old who’d been shipped off to war. That would take its toll on the strongest of minds – and Riza had the strongest in the world, Jean had always thought.

“I hope she wasn’t too tough on you,” Riza smiled, relaxing and becoming more comfortable the more they talked.

“Nah,” Jean waved Riza off. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“I’m sure,” she stated, a wry smile overtaking her face as she shot him a sideways look. Her smile hid behind her glass as she took a sip.

Jean coughed, feeling his face heating up. “Nothing happened.”

“Uh hu.” She didn’t believe him.

He was a terrible liar, Riza and Rebecca had always told him. And they were right.

“Okay, it did, but nothing much else has happened.”

“I knew it,” she grinned, eyes lighting up.

Jean scoffed and turned his gaze away while Riza laughed to herself, far too pleased about the progression of his and Rebecca’s relationship… Or whatever it was.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

“You were chasing after her for months. Finally plucked up the courage, huh?” Riza teased.

“More like I was hounded into it,” he grumbled, which earned an elbow in the ribs from Riza. It made him smile.

“Rebecca’s not like that,” she admonished.

Jean took another drink. “No, she’s not. She’s…” He could almost sigh, thinking about her.

“Aw,” Riza cooed.

Snapping out of it, Jean gave himself a shake. “Anyway, nothing much else has happened. We both got busy –”

Riza snorted and Jean glared at her for the insinuation.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Miss Hawkeye,” he scolded. “Our lives just got busy. Although,” he smirked. “Graduation night was last week and that was fun.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Shaking her head, Riza chuckled and smiled at him.

“I’m happy for you both. Truly, I am. Just make sure you don’t let her go.”

“I won’t, I promise. I know a good thing when I see it.”

The lapsed into silence and Jean watched Riza as she downed the last of her whisky, ordering another. He was happy. It was almost like old times.

“What?” she asked, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

“Nothing, it’s just… It’s good to see you again,” he smiled softly. “I missed you.”

As her drink was handed to her, she gripped it tight once more. “I missed you too. I missed being home.”

“Probably a dumb question, but you know me,” he winked, trying to lighten the dark mood that suddenly seemed to cling to her body completely. “But how are you doing?”

Her face dropped and that weight in Jean’s stomach went with her expression. His stomach tightened and he had the distinct feeling he’d ruined the happy moment they’d found themselves in.

“I’m… all right.”

It was a practised response. Jean could see right through it. Her shoulders had tensed and if she held her glass any tighter, Jean thought it might shatter from the pressure.

“Are you sure?” he probed. He wasn’t normally one to hover or push, but he was worried about her. He couldn’t help himself, not when she looked as stricken as she did.

Riza took a deep breath then let it out shakily, lifting the glass to her lips. She took a long gulp of the whisky before lowering it, her hands shaking. Jean was instantly alert. Maybe getting drinks wasn’t such a good idea.

“Not here,” she whispered. Jean leaned forward automatically to hear her. Once it registered, his heat thudded inside his chest. “Please.”

Glancing at her face, he noticed just how much she was pleading with him.

“All right,” he agreed. If it were him, he wouldn’t want to get into anything like fighting in a war in a busy bar in East City. But he wouldn’t let it go.

The rest of their night he’d brushed it off for the moment and tried to lighten the mood. Slowly, Riza had come back to him and they’d eventually had a good time. As she laughed, her head tipped back to her hair tumbled down her back, Jean grinned at her and almost forgot about the tight ball inside his stomach, symbolising his worry for his friend. Almost.

She’d received his letters. She stuttered, her face falling when she stated she couldn’t reply to him, but Jean quickly told her not to worry about it. From her tone, it sounded like she couldn’t bring herself to reply to him. He waved it off like it was no big deal, because it wasn’t. Jean reassured her he was just happy she’d received them. That was enough for him. It always had been.

“Thank you for tonight. I really needed it,” Riza added after letting out a long breath.

They were outside the barracks where Riza was staying. It was passed midnight so everywhere was dark. There was no one about to overhear them.

Jean nodded. “Anytime, Riza. You know that.”

Her smile wavered then her face crumpled. Alarmed, Jean froze. Then, a gasping sob reached his ears and he lunged for his friend. Her sorrow kicked him into action. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders in comfort as Riza covered her face with her hand.

“Come on,” he urged. “Let’s get you inside.”

“No,” Riza shook her head, extracting herself from his hold. “I’m all right, I…”

“You’re not,” Jean called her out.

“I am. Really, I am. I’ll be fine once I get some sleep.”

“I’m not leaving you like this,” Jean frowned. “Let’s get inside, then we can talk about it.”

That last part set off alarm bells inside her head, because her whole body tensed.

Jean wrapped his arm around her shoulders once more. Starting to walk, he hoped it was in the right direction. He wished he’d asked her where exactly she stayed and planned ahead, but that was never his forte. That was more Riza’s speciality after a night of drinking.

“Jean, really, it’s okay,” she whispered but didn’t fight him as they walked. Her hands clutched her purse in front of her, her head bowed forward.

“Still not leaving you,” he muttered. “Plus, you’ve helped me out more times than I can count. It’s about time I returned the favour.”

She was silent as they walked and Jean tried to clear his head, taking deep, cleansing breaths of the cool night air. He wished he hadn’t drunk so much.

“In here,” Riza directed, slowing and turning to angle her body towards her temporary accommodation. Her hands were shaking as she unlocked the door.

Jean stepped inside and noted how bare the place looked. The room looked like it had never been lived in. It was straight out the accommodation catalogue the military always passed out, but shouldn’t bother with, because all the bunks looked exactly the same.

“How long have you been back?” Jean asked as Riza locked the door behind her.

“Just over a week.”

Jean nodded, noting how there wasn’t even a moving box lying anywhere. She’d unpacked, yet her place was still bare. That wasn’t unusual for Riza, but at least at the Academy she’d had books lying around – both fictional and those she used to study. There was some character to her living space. Some indication that someone lived there. Now there was nothing. Jean couldn’t even see that photograph she’d always had next to her bed of the boy she’d grown up with.

Turning in place, Jean’s heart broke for his friend. She looked so uncertain in her own room. Her purse had been tossed on her bed, breaking the perfectly pulled tight sheet atop of it. Even that was still the military standard brown and moss green. Now, her hands were free to wring themselves together in front of her.

“What’s going on with you, Riza?” he asked.

She cringed. “Noth –”

“Bullshit,” Jean interrupted before she could even finish. Yes, Jean had never been one to press and invade in her personal life more than she wanted anyone too, but he would still call her out on her shit. She couldn’t lie to him. Not tonight.

“It…”

He held his breath, hoping and praying she’d continue. Jean just wanted her to be okay. He wanted his friend to be happy, but something told him that the war had ripped all of that from her. Regardless of what had happened over there, he’d still love her. He’d still support her and try to work through it because that’s what friends did. They both knew what they were signing up for when they joined the military.

Jean had struggled with it at first, but Riza had helped him through it, telling him that if an enemy was threatening all she held dear, she wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. He’d always marvelled at her strength and her resolve, vowing that he would always try and do his best to make her proud. Jean drew on her strength more than she would ever know.

Now, her own mind and her experiences were the enemy. Jean would sure as hell fight that with her and help her through it.

“It was horrible over there,” she whispered.

Jean relaxed, seeing that they would get somewhere with this. He stepped forward but stopped when he noticed the look on her face. Her gaze was cast off to the side while her hands became more frantic, wringing together.

“It wasn’t war. It was an extermination campaign.”

Jean swallowed. The military had kindly left that part out of all their news from the front.

“But they were good fighters. So good. That’s why they brought in the State Alchemists, to decimate them. I was drafted in as back up to protect them as a sniper.” Riza let out a loud shaky breath. “I… I killed people, while they were only trying to defend themselves.” She let out a sob, her face crumpling. “I hid in a tower and took lives to protect my own countrymen so they could slaughter innocents.”

Jean had his arms wrapped around her tightly in record time. He squeezed her against his body while Riza Hawkeye cried against his chest. That in itself was frightening. He’d never seen her cry before, however, Jean was glad. She was obviously comfortable enough to share it with him.

“You did what you had to do,” he murmured. He felt helpless. He couldn’t think of anything else to say that would make it better. There was nothing that would make it better. So, Jean just held her tightly.

“And… I saw him again.”

Jean instantly knew who she was talking about.

“How was he?”

“A State Alchemist. Flame Alchemy.”

Jean audibly swallowed. He’d never heard of that kind of alchemy before and had no idea where someone would acquire such a thing. Jean could only imagine the destruction one could cause with it.

“Yeah. I was so angry with him at first,” Riza admitted. Her hands gripped his jacket tighter. “I couldn’t believe what he was doing. That wasn’t the boy I grew up with. The boy I –” Her mouth snapped shut. Obviously, the drink was drawing more out of than she planned.

“You what?”

“Nothing,” she quickly replied.

“Riza, this isn’t going to work if you don’t let it all out,” he prompted.

It was silent for some time. Riza was obviously gearing herself up to admit her feelings, but Jean already knew she loved that boy she’d grown up with. It was clear as day in the way she spoke about him, which hadn’t been often. However, Riza didn’t keep childhood photos of just anyone by her bedside. She didn’t look at it fondly while he, Riza, and Rebecca were all sitting on her bed, drinking at night.

“That wasn’t the man I loved. I didn’t think he’d ever do such a thing, but he did.”

“And?” he prompted. “What happened after that?”

“But… The longer I spent over there, the more my eyes opened. The way the COs were talking about the Ishvalans… It didn’t take long to slot things into place and realise that it was an extermination campaign. Every order was designed that way. We were sent into villages that didn’t even house any fighters, but my superiors told me they were there. It was just woman and children.”

Jean felt like he might vomit.

“And… And then they congratulated me on my work.”

Jean swallowed his vomit.

“Yeah, exactly.”

Riza began to pull away from him, but Jean secured her in his arms once more.

“I… I don’t know what to say to make this better for you,” he whispered. “I really don’t. I’m not good with words, you know that. But we both understood what it was we were getting ourselves into when we signed up. I just didn’t expect to discover about the true harshness of it fresh out the Academy.”

“Welcome to the club,” she muttered.

“But I’m here for you, Riza. I’m not going to turn and run. We support each other. Me, you, and Rebecca. That’s what we do, and I’m not going to give up now.”

“You should,” she whispered against him. “I’m a monster.”

“I will be too, when I’m called up to fight. We all will be, in our own minds. Well, the soldiers that have a big enough conscience.”

Riza shuddered in his arms.

“So, what do you do now? How do you right your wrongs?”

Riza was silent once more. She seemed to be struggling with something.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this or not… But Major Mustang is planning on working his way up the ranks to Fuhrer. He wants to prevent another Ishval from happening again.”

“I’m in.”

Riza peeled her head up to squint at him.

“Really?”

“Of course.” Jean let go of her, bringing his hands to her shoulders. He softened his knees, so he was eye level with her. “I’ve got your back, Riza.”

Riza crushed him against her. Jean brought a hand to her back, rubbing circles on it.

“I don’t know what I would do without you right now,” she whispered.

“Oh, you’d be fine,” he waved her off. “You’re the super soldier, remember?” he quipped, calling back to their Academy days when Rebecca had joked Riza was some kind of super soldier because of how good she was at shooting.

“I don’t feel like one right now,” she murmured. “I feel dirty and ashamed.”

“That’s okay,” Jean reminded her gently. He placed his fingers underneath her chin, lifting her head so she was looking directly at him. “That means you’re human. Hell, you’re already plotting to overthrow the Fuhrer. That sounds pretty super soldier to me.”

It had managed to draw a laugh from her. A little one, but it was there. That was all Jean needed.

“You’re already trying to right your wrongs, Riza. That speaks volumes.”

“I hope so,” she muttered.

A loud yawn left her, and her eyes drooped. She looked physically and mentally exhausted. The dark circles underneath her eyes became more prominent in the low light of her room.

“You need sleep,” Jean commented.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t exactly come easily for me nowadays though.”

“Hop in,” Jean commanded, ushering her towards her bed.

“What?”

He flopped down before her, opening his arms.

Riza raised an eyebrow in question.

“I’m lying down now and I ain’t moving. So, you can choose, sleep on the floor or come join me.”

Sobering slightly, Riza shifted from foot to foot. Whatever debate she was having in her head, she gave in. kicking off her shoes, Riza climbed in beside him. Jean wrapped her tightly in her arms.

He didn’t know if what he said had gotten through to her. In the morning, he wasn’t sure if she’d remember it all. Jean hoped so, but he could never tell how drunk she was. Riza was always a damn pro at hiding it. Regardless, he would support her. They’d get through this together.

“You should probably go though,” Riza fretted, turning to face him in his arms. “It’s against the rules to have someone overnight –”

“I know,” he reminded her softly. “But it’s the weekend and I’m still not leaving you when you obviously need someone.”

“Jean,” she geared up to argue, but sounded so very tired.

“Fuck ‘em,” he muttered, pulling her tighter against his body. “This isn’t the first time it’s happened, and it won’t be a last. You went to war for them and got paid in dirt. I’ll tell them where to go if they come knocking,” he yawned, relaxing into her bed.

Riza was silent, but she curled against him.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest.

“Not a problem, Riza,” he mumbled. “You’re stuck with me anyway because I’m too drunk and too tired to make it back to my place.”

Riza snorted softly. “Is that the only reason you’re here?” she asked. “To get into a woman’s bed?”

Jean laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Oh yeah,” he grinned, eyes still closed. “Absolutely.”

Riza giggled against him, shifting so she was closer to his body.

It was just like old times.

“I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this,” she whispered. “I want to do it on my own terms, if I choose to do it at all.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I… I think if I hadn’t drunk so much, I wouldn’t have broken down like that –”

“You’re allowed to let go without getting drunk, Riza.”

“I know,” she admitted. “It’s just… It’s hard.”

“Well I’m honoured you think so highly of me,” Jean yawned again, fighting sleep this time.

“And… I know I said I got your letters. I did. I kept them all but…”

“You couldn’t bring yourself to reply?” he guessed.

Riza shook her head. “I couldn’t bring myself to read them,” she admitted in a whisper.

“Why?” his brow furrowed.

“I don’t know, I… I just couldn’t.” Her shoulders curled further in on themselves.

“That’s okay. Take all the time you need,” he reassured her.

“I wanted to. I really did, but… I don’t know, I just couldn’t. It was like I didn’t deserve to.”

“How about we read through them together?” he offered. It would be embarrassing to read back on his pathetic ramblings, but he’d do it for her, if she needed it.

“I’d really like that.”

“They’re nothing special anyway,” he assured her. “I just wanted you to get something from home.” He yawned loudly once more.

“Get some sleep, Jean,” Riza murmured, but he heard the smile in her voice. “And thank you so much. You’ve been a big help.”

“Anytime,” he muttered tiredly.

“And I promise I won’t tell Rebecca about this either,” she snickered suddenly.

Jean cracked an eye open to look down at her. “If you do, I’ll tell your Major friend.”

“Fighting dirty, Jean Havoc?”

“Always,” he grinned.

Although he’d been drunk, true to his word, Jean Havoc never breathed a word of what they discussed that night. Despite the drink, he remembered every minute. It was one of the most profound nights of his and Riza’s friendship. It wasn’t one he was inclined to forget.

When Jean transferred to work underneath Mustang with Riza, he could pinpoint exactly what Riza meant when he saw them both together. They shared something so deep that Jean would never be able to understand, but that was okay. He played dumb to all that had happened in Ishval until the Lieutenant Colonel brought it up himself one night. He and Riza appeared to be similar, because he’d only confided in Jean and the rest of the boys after a night of drinking. Although inebriated, there was a burning fire in Mustang’s eyes as he shared his plans with them all, asking if they were in.

Jean meant it when he told Riza he’d tell the military where to go. He was more than ready to join the fight that had taken so much from one of his best friends.

He was in. He always would be.

#fmab fanfic #fmab fic #fma oneshot #hawkeye's return #emma writes

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jimins-crooked-tooth · 7 years

Text

Apartment 504 — Chapter 2

Summary:

Mark eyed the glass in Jackson’s hand and hesitated. He didn’t know this man. The only time he’d ever talked to him was once when Jackson was intoxicated past the point of coherence, and once after both had returned home at the same time. This man was so loud, so sporadic, so unpredictable, and so unlike anyone Mark would ever want to be around.

But still, after a timid look into Jackson’s hopeful brown eyes, Mark met Jackson’s glass midway, the clink of glass and a shared smile between the two kicking off the start of the night.

More Chapters

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]

Also read on Archive Of Our Own:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11292225/chapters/25263081

hello! so, i actually changed the name of this story to Apartment 504 because Room 504 reminded me too much of a hotel room so sorry for any confusion! pls don’t beat me up i’m a pacifist and will definitely not win ok ok enjoy

“Mark, get the fuck up. It’s past noon.” Mark grunted tiredly, pulling the comforter over his head and curling his knees up to his chest. He felt a dip form on his bed as Jinyoung sat down, tugging gently at Mark’s blanket in an attempt to pry it off. “You said we would go shopping today. I need to get some books and a couple other things before the school year starts. You too.” Mark grunted again, but narrowly complied, running a hand through his hair and stretching out his sore limbs.

“Give me twenty minutes,” he grumbled, and proceed to kick Jinyoung off his bed (literally). Jinyoung scowled and rubbed at his side (the site of impact) but ultimately left Mark to his own devices to get ready for the day.

Mark’s morning routine was a little thrown off due to the setup of the new apartment—he had to remember where he placed everything from the day before when he was unpacking his boxes. He walked out of his bedroom, blue toothbrush wedged between his pink lips as his eyes skimmed over the nearly empty pantry for something to eat on their way out. His shoulders slumped when he found nothing convenient and he huffed through his nose, turning to walk back into his bedroom. He stopped when he heard a soft knock at the front door. Mark turned to face Jinyoung who was sitting on the sofa in front of the television, reading a book he’d bought only a couple days ago. Jinyoung shrugged, his expression saying, Don’t ask me, I’m not expecting anyone. Mark gestured to the door and then to his shirtless body, his eyes saying, I can’t get it right now. You get it. Jinyoung settled back into the couch with his book, blatantly ignoring Mark’s pleas to open the door so he wouldn’t have to.

Mark groaned in annoyance as he hurried to the sink to spit out his toothpaste before opening the door. He wasn’t sure who or what he was expecting, considering neither him nor his roommate were expecting any visitors, but what he definitely wasn’t expecting was to see no one at all. He glimpsed down either side of the hallway and still saw no one. As he was about to close the door, he noticed something at his feet. A six pack of beer sat alone in front of the doorway, a small letter taped to the top of one of the bottles. Mark knelt down to eye the package, picking up the piece of paper in the process and proceeding to open it.

Mark,

I wanted to apologize for last night. I’m not sure what all I said or did, but hopefully it wasn’t as bad as I’m imagining it to be. Accept this gift as a token of my appreciation for your help and also as an apology.

Your neighbor,

Jackson x

Mark blinked a couple times, rereading the letter in his hand at least twice before glancing first at the beer and then to his neighbors’ closed door. He considered knocking on their door and explaining to Jackson that it really was no problem and that this really was not necessary, but then Mark remembered that he hated confrontation, so he opted for a quick shrug, grabbing the bottles, and shutting the door with his foot.

“Who was it?” Jinyoung asked curiously, eyeing the six-pack of alcohol in Mark’s hand.

“One of the neighbors,” Mark replied, opening the fridge, and squeezing the case on the top shelf. “I guess he felt bad about last night, so he left some beer at our door.”

Jinyoung sat up on the couch, putting his book face down on the table. “Oh yeah. What was that all about? One second you were getting ready for bed and the next you were sitting next to some stranger puking his guts out in our bathroom.”

Mark sighed and rubbed his temples. “He knocked on our door last night, thinking it was his, and when I told him it wasn’t, he went off to look for his own, and then he puked in the hallway outside, and basically he was just a downright mess and would probably have wound up hurt or dead if I didn’t help him.”

“Wow, Mark. Look at you being an outstanding citizen,” Jinyoung teased.

Mark rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he mumbled and headed back to his room before Jinyoung could say any more.

…

“We need food,” Mark announced, adjusting the bags in his right hand, so he could scroll through his phone with the other. “I made a list in the car of what all we need.”

“Okay, we can stop by the store on our way home,” Jinyoung promised, turning to Mark. “Did you eat anything yet today?” Mark shook his head and read the time at the top of his phone screen before sliding the phone back into his pocket. 3:24. Jinyoung paused mid-step, catching Mark’s arm with his free hand and spinning him so the two were face to face. “Mark! What the hell? It’s late afternoon and you haven’t eaten anything?” Mark raised his hands defensively, eyes wide. Jinyoung sighed, letting go of his arm and taking a step forward. “Come on, let’s get something to eat,” he replied gruffly, his motherly nature kicking in at his friend’s confession.

Mark’s limbs still ached from moving such heavy boxes and furniture the day before, but walking around and shopping with Jinyoung helped distract him from the soreness while also preventing his extremities from becoming too stiff.

He and Jinyoung had spent the day picking up textbooks and excess school supplies for their classes that started in under a month. They knew if they didn’t buy what they needed now stores would run out of supplies by time they looked for it then. Luckily, each boy had managed to find most of the things they had gone out for, each doting their fair share of bags on their arms as they walked around the outdoor shopping plaza. The pair approached a Smoothie King that had just opened a couple weeks ago and Mark stopped.

“I’m actually not too hungry right now. I was earlier, but the feeling has passed. Why don’t we just grab smoothies for a snack instead? I can eat when we get home from the grocery store.” Jinyoung hesitated initially, his eyes meeting Mark’s, but Mark assured him that he was fine, and that he would eat when they got home, and that Jinyoung didn’t have to worry about him because he was taking good care of himself now, and also, Jinyoungie, you looooove smoothies, I know you do. I’ll even treat you.

And so, with a long sigh and a dismissive wave of his hand, Jinyoung nodded. “Fine,” he breathed, and Mark smiled, tugging on Jinyoung’s arm and pulling the two of them into the smoothie chain. The line was long and Mark feared that Jinyoung would be bothered by the long wait, but he actually didn’t seem to mind. The two roommates chatted in line about their upcoming schoolyear—their classes, professors, which buildings their classes would be in, etcetera. Jinyoung eagerly told Mark about all of the books he and his classmates would be reading this year, according to the class syllabi online.

Jinyoung was a literature major who was also minoring in creative writing. Although Jinyoung exceled in both areas, Mark had never been much of a recreational reader or writer, and therefore posed a little judgmental towards his roommate and his chosen major.

Mark was a philosophy major, minoring in psychology. Both subjects suited him well. All his life, Mark had been a thinker, an absorber of the world around him. He frequently asked himself questions about life, nature, and the world’s existence. It was never guaranteed that he would ever find answers to his questions, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try his damn hardest.

A part of Mark also loved the human brain; he enjoyed learning about its many different functions, how things worked inside the head, how those things made people act in different ways, and why those people did certain things. Mark just liked… understanding things. He liked finding answers to questions.

Mark snapped out of the trance he didn’t realize he was in when the cashier called out, “Next!” Jinyoung stepped aside and gestured for Mark to go first. Mark scooted forward, placing his fingertips on the ceramic countertop as he looked up momentarily to meet the eyes of the man behind the counter—brown eyes… dark brown eyes… familiar dark brown eyes. Mark swallowed hard as he took in the sight of the man before him—blonde hair, rosy lips, absolutely breathtaking brown eyes; it was Jackson.

“What can I get for you?” he asked, eyes wide in attention.

Oh god. It’s him. This is so awkward. Does he recognize me from last night? If he recognizes me, why isn’t he saying anything? Mark’s thoughts ran circles around his head and he felt his throat dry as he stood there, eyes trained on the blonde’s face. Jinyoung kicked the back of his thigh, startling him, and Mark’s head swiveled, eyes narrowing at his friend.

“You’re the one who wanted smoothies, so order,” Jinyoung nudged.

Mark turned back around, hand on the back of his neck out of nervousness, and avoiding Jackson’s gaze by looking at the menu on the wall behind him. Mark cleared his throat. “Okay, um… c-could I get a… medium pineapple surf?”

Jackson nodded and plugged his order into the computer, eyes falling to Jinyoung next. Jinyoung recited his order, and then the two moved off to the side to wait for their smoothies to be made.

“Are you okay?” Jinyoung asked quietly, leaning into Mark’s side. “You looked nervous up there.”

“That’s Jackson,” Mark said, eyes unmoving from the blonde man in the process of making their smoothies. He looked different in this setting compared to last night’s. His hair and clothes were more put together now as opposed to his drunk, disheveled appearance at the apartment. Despite his drunken state the previous night, Jackson looked surprisingly well rested today, like his hangover was either non-existent or he was damn good at hiding it.

Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed. “Who the hell is Jackson?”

“Jackson, our neighbor,” Mark explained. He watched as Jackson mixed one of their smoothies in the blender, his high-pitched laugh resonating around the room as he and a coworker joked around. “He was the one who came to our apartment drunk last night.”

Jinyoung nodded in understanding. “Wow. I didn’t recognize him, not without his face shoved in a toilet,” he mused and Mark rolled his eyes. “But what’s wrong with seeing him here? It doesn’t look like he even remembers you.”

Mark’s gaze remained trained on Jackson, his strong hands topping off the two cups with lids. His mind drifted back to the brief conversation between the two of them last night.

“You’re cute,” Jackson said.

“Oh, um, what?”

“I said I think you’re cute.” Jackson repeated.

“One pineapple surf and one angel food cake,” Jackson called out, holding a smoothie in each hand. Mark reluctantly stepped up to the register, eyes cast down as he handed over his card, Jackson quickly swiping it through the computer and handing it back to him with a soft smile.

“Have a great day,” he said, and Mark nodded. He spun around on his heels and grabbed his roommate by the arm, pulling the two of them out the double doors. Jinyoung scowled and sent Mark dirty looks, but didn’t press the issue as they walked back to their car.

In case Mark hadn’t said it enough already, he really hated confrontation.

…

Jackson turned off his car and pulled the keys out of the ignition, grabbing his jacket and Smoothie King hat before hopping out of his car. His eyes drooped in exhaustion and he stretched his stiff muscles from a long day of work. In retrospect, he wished he hadn’t drank so much the night before (not just because he stumbled up to his new neighbors’ apartment in a drunken haze, but also because his hangover was a right bitch today). The welcome home party that his friends threw for him was a total rager—loud music, lots of people, and tons of alcohol. Usually, Jackson knew his limit, knew when enough was enough, and when too much was too much, but after having not seen his friends and roommates for practically the whole summer, he really just wanted to have fun, even if that meant getting completely fucked up.

He woke up this morning to a pillow being tossed at his face.

“Get up,” Jaebum ordered. “You have work in two hours. Go clean yourself up.” Jackson grudgingly threw his arm over his face, squinting one eye to look at his roommate who was sitting grouchily on the table beside his bed.

“If I have to work in two hours…” Jackson paused, coughing to clear the scratchiness out of his throat. He blinked a few times, feeling the pressure of what would soon be an intense headache forming in his temples, and started again. “If I have to work in two hours, why are you waking me up now?” he asked.

“Because you need time to clean yourself up before going in. You smell like you bathed in alcohol last night.” Jackson chuckled under his breath and Jaebum shoved his shoulder. “It’s not funny, you were an absolute royal pain in the ass last night. Do you even remember what happened?”

Jackson hummed sleepily and grinned. “I remember having a hell of a good time.”

Jaebum scoffed and stood up to walk towards the bedroom door. “Yeah, you did. But you also stumbled up to the new neighbors’ apartment and passed out drunk on their bathroom floor.”

Jackson sat up to look at Jaebum, but immediately regretted his decision when he felt all the blood in his body rush to his head. He leaned back slightly and massaged his forehead to relieve the building pressure. “Wait. Back up. What?”

Jaebum sighed and inhaled a deep breath before starting. “You passed out in our neighbors’ apartment when you were trying to come home after the party last night. One of them took care of you until I got there to pick you up. You owe him… big time.”

Jackson rubbed his eyes and fell back into his pillows. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he said. “Seriously. I didn’t know it was that bad. Thank you for coming to get me.”

“I should have left you there,” Jaebum grumbled and opened the door to leave.

“Aw, Jaebummie, you don’t mean that,” Jackson smiled, sending his friend his most irresistible puppy dog face. “You still love me, right?”

“Whatever,” Jaebum muttered and exited the room, closing the door behind him. Jackson was just beginning to get up when Jaebum entered the room again. “By the way, his name is Mark,” he added.

“What?” Jackson replied.

“The guy who helped you last night. His name is Mark.”

Jackson yawned as he locked his car, waiting for the beep to sound before making his way inside the apartment building. He entered the lobby and headed in the direction of the elevators. As he rounded the corner, he noticed one of the elevator doors closing.

“Hey, hold that please!” he shouted, sprinting towards the door. An arm protruded from inside the elevator to prevent the door from closing and Jackson slipped inside as it slid open again. He took a moment to catch his breath as the doors began closing again. “Thank you,” he said, reaching over to press the button for the fifth floor, but realizing it was already lit up.

He turned and smiled to the person on his right and tilted his head when he recognized the face. “Hey! I’ve seen you. You came into Smoothie King today. Pineapple surf, yeah?” The brunette avoided eye contact, and he wondered if maybe he was wrong and he wasn’t the person he had seen today.

“Uh, yeah. That was me,” he said, a forced smile making its way onto his lips as he adjusted the Shake Shack carryout bag in his hands.

“Cool!” Jackson said in an attempt to break the ice. “What apartment do you live in? It looks like we both live on the same floor.”

But before he could answer, the elevator dinged and came to a stop. Both men looked up to the screen above the double doors that currently displayed the number five. Jackson stepped out of the elevator behind the man and the two turned left down the long hallway. He felt a bit like a stalker as he followed the man down the hallway to get to their respective apartments. Jackson watched as the man stopped at the door next to his own.

“Oh, you’re one of the new neighbors!” Jackson smiled, leaning his shoulder into the apartment door. The man fiddled with his keys and nodded his head. “What’s your name?” he continued in the hopes that he could start getting to know his new neighbor. “I’m Jackson. I live here with my two roommates.”

“I know,” the man said quietly, nervously scratching the back of his neck and turning to face Jackson. “We had a brief encounter last night. I’m Mark.”

Oh?

Oh.

Jackson gulped. How had he forgotten about that already? I mean sure, it was late at night and he felt like he had been awake for a solid 72 hours straight, but still.

Jackson’s eyes fell to the floor. “Yeah, um, about that…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mark assured him. “It’s not a big deal. You just looked like you could use some help last night so…”

“Did you get my peace offering today?” Jackson inquired. Mark nodded and a twinge of relief washed over him. “I still feel horrible about it all. My roommate filled me in on everything this morning. Is there anything else I can do to make it up to you?” Mark shook his head and Jackson fought off a smile. “You don’t talk much do you?”

Mark blushed and lightly shrugged his shoulders. “No, not really. I’m not much of a people-person,” he said and switched his weight from one foot to the other, a nervous tick, Jackson thought.

“Hm, well maybe things will change with me as your neighbor,” Jackson beamed and Mark chuckled a bit under his breath.

“Maybe,” he replied and reached for his door.

“Wait.” Jackson extended a hand in Mark’s direction to stop him. “Did I do anything last night?” Mark squinted his eyes in confusion and Jackson searched for more words. “Like, did I say anything to you or do anything to you last that made you, I don’t know, like, uncomfortable? You seem… uncomfortable around me.”

“Um, no, not that I can remember,” he said, his teeth pulling lightly at his lip.

“Something tells me you’re lying,” Jackson pushed. His eyes widened as a thought came to mind. “I didn’t kiss your or anything, did I?”

“No!” Mark assured him waving his hands in front of him for emphasis. “No, definitely not. You just… never mind.”

“No, tell me!” Jackson pleaded, his stomach turning at the thought of him doing/saying something unforgivable to someone he had never met. “What did I do? Whatever it is, I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“I-it’s nothing bad,” Mark said, cheeks flushing a light pink. “You just… you told me I was cute,” he said quickly. “It’s all I think about when I see you now, that’s all.” Jackson closed his eyes and breathed sigh of relief. This…this he could work with.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson said, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lip. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. But if it means anything, I know I meant it, even in my drunken state.” Jackson thought it impossible for Mark’s face to grow any redder, so he decided to cut things short for the sake of his dignity. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Mark. I hope to see you around.” He offered a gentle smile to his new neighbor and swiftly entered his apartment, thinking to himself, how did I get this lucky to have such an adorable next-door neighbor?

i’m actually the biggest fucking dweeb in the history of ever so please don’t be afraid to follow me or message me or ask me things. i love meeting and getting to know new people! comment your thoughts and i’ll blow u a kiss <3

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