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nothingbutimagines · 3 years

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Everything You Want (Peter Parker)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Cursing, lots of fluff and cliches

Summary: When Y/n breaks up with her ex, she declares to her friends that she will never, by any means, fall in love again. To her surprise, Peter seems to take this as a challenge, trying to win her heart in a mere afternoon.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: I was on a bit of an unexpected hiatus, but I am here to stay. School and quarantine was kicking my ass and my family is moving halfway across the country so things have been very hectic around here. But, with Falcon and the Winter Solider and me rewatching all the Marvel movies to cope with this wack ass time, I am feeling inspired.

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

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“That’s it!” You slammed your lunch tray down on the cafeteria table as you huffed and sat down beside MJ. “I’m done with men. I hate love. I’m over it.”

MJ looked over at you and sighed, rolling her eyes. She didn’t believe you, especially since the boy you’d broken up with was the boy you dated not even a week after swearing off men the last time.

“What are you talking about?” Ned asked before receiving a swift kick from MJ.

“Don’t ask about it.” The girl replied through gritted teeth as she fully turned on the bench to face you. “Y/n, you know I love you, but I can’t help but think you’re being a little rash.”

“Rash?” You scoffed. “You wanna talk about rash? MJ, you broke up with Ethan Brooks in eighth grade because he accidentally stepped on your foot at the winter formal.”

“I know you’re just being harsh because you’re heartbroken, but let’s be real, Y/n, you don’t hate love.”

“Yes, yes I do. I’m never, ever, ever going to fall in love. I’m not even going to think about it. I now will live in a world of tragedy and heartbreak because love does not exist.”

You stabbed your fork into your mac and cheese aggressively. Maybe MJ was right, you thought, you might have been being a little harsh and you were very heartbroken.

You had the unfortunate curse of being a romantic, loving the idea of love and anything having to do with a good rom-com. You couldn’t help but fall in love with everyone you’d ever had a romantic moment with. You just loved the experience that came with being in love.

However, now sitting heartbroken and eating your feelings in mac and cheese, you really really didn’t like the idea of falling in love and would have rather fallen off the face of the earth than like another boy.

MJ sighed heavily, reading your body language and knowing you wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and watch a sad movie.

“Y/n, I know you’re sad, but look on the bright side, you have more time to hang out with us. We’re going to the movies after school today.”

You looked between your three friends, smiling shyly. “Thanks, guys, but I really just feel like being alone.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n.” Peter sighed, giving you a nudge with his foot. “I know you secretly want to pig out on popcorn and see that new horror movie.”

“I don’t think so, Peter. I really don’t feel good.”

Peter pouted, giving you puppy dog eyes. “Please, Bug, come on. You blew me off last week to go out with Brad and we’re best friends. You owe me one.”

“I thought we were best friends.” Ned spoke up, earning another swift kick from Peter. “Ow! What is with you guys and abusing me?”

You smiled, rolling your eyes at your friends. Especially at Peter, who seemed serious enough to use the only face you couldn’t resist and a nickname that always seemed to keep your attention on him.

“I’ll think about it.” You caved, taking another bite of your food.

“Don’t think. Just say yes.”

“Are you seriously going to be pushy right now, Parker?” You raised a brow at him. “I am heartbroken. Sick with sadness.”

“I’m just saying, the best way to get over someone-”

“Is to get under someone.” Ned stated proudly, cutting Peter off.

“Ew, no!” Peter gave Ned a light shove. “I was going to say that the best way to get over someone is to be around people who care about you.”

“Or burning his personal belongings before he asks for them back.” MJ added, stealing a fork full of your mac and cheese. “We could always burn Brad’s stuff and roast marshmallows over it.”

“I like MJ’s idea way better than going to the movies.” You agreed, pointing to the girl beside you while you locked eyes with Peter.

“We’re not going to burn his stuff!” Peter exclaimed as MJ frowned. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to burn someone else’s property and we already made plans to go to the movie.”

“Well, damn.” You frowned. “Now look who’s being harsh.”

MJ began to chuckle beside you as Peter began to frown.

“Harsh would be me forcing you to go to the movie.”

“Oh yeah, and badgering me to go isn’t forcing me right, Peter?” You raised a brow at him as you finished the last of your meal.

“At least I’m asking and not physically forcing you to go.”

“That is true.” You shrugged. “I guess I’ll come, but if I am having a terrible time, you have to take me home.”

“Always.” Peter smiled, nodding as he reached forward and grabbed your hand. “It’ll be fun, Bug. I swear.”

You shrugged, squeezing the boy’s hand as the bell rang loudly. You pulled away quickly, catching a glance at your now ex-boyfriend and the girl attached to his arm as he walked past your table. You cleared your throat, corralling your things together as you rose from your spot on the bench.

“I’ll-I’ll, uh, see you guys later. I’ve got to get to Chem. I can’t be late again or I’ll get a detention.” You stammered, feeling the tears prick at your eyes as you pulled your books in your arms.

“Let me walk with you.” Peter offered, noticing the sudden change in your mood as he rose from his seat and rounded the table to where you stood. “I have to get to Bio next door anyway.”

You nodded silently, surprised when you felt Peter’s hand press lightly against the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd in silence.

“You know, Bug, it’s okay to say things aren’t okay.” He finally said as you made it into the outer corridor of the cafeteria.

You bit your lip at his words, holding back the tears as you glanced over at him so he could finally see your eyes and cheeks red with pent up feelings.

“I’m fine.” You choked out, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat.

Peter pulled you aside, out of the way of the walking students. His eyes, you could see as he rested his hands on your shoulders and forced you to look at him, were full of concern.

“I know you’re not. You want to talk about it?”

You couldn’t help it, the warmth and care in his brown eyes caused your tears to begin to fall as your hand shot up to wipe them quickly.

“You must think I’m pathetic.” You laughed uncomfortably as you spoke, “I’m crying over some stupid boy and you have to watch.”

Peter shook his head, his expression clearly showing the confusion in his mind as he looked at you.

He never found you pathetic nor would he ever. On the contrary, he found you to be the most amazing person he’d had ever known, and not just because you were best friends. Watching you cry, he realized something he’d never wanted to take a good hard look at.

You were the girl he’d always wanted to be with and you’d always kept him on the sidelines. You were everything he’d ever wanted and yet you always kept him as the best friend, the shoulder to cry on, the boy who often kept you afloat.

For a girl so in love with romance and cliches, you’d never realized how much of a walking cliche the two of you were.

Not that Peter was upset. He would never be upset by that, especially when you still allowed for him to be so close by your side.

“Oh, Y/n.” He pulled you into a hug after giving you a moment to clean yourself up. “I would never think you were pathetic. You’re the best person I know.”

You sniffed, bringing your arms around him to embrace him back before pulling away and looking up at him.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” He gave you a shy smile as he glanced down at you.

Your eyes traveled from gazing into his and looking to the spot on his shirt that you had now stained with tears and mascara.

“Even if I stained your nice white shirt with my make up?”

Peter pulled away, looking down at the shoulder of his shirt as he tugged at it to see the stain better. He sighed, chuckling lightly as he looked at you with a smile as warm as the look in his eyes.

“I have other shirts. I didn’t really like this one, anyway.”

“Peter, that’s your favorite one.”

Peter shrugged, letting go of the fabric between his fingers as he looked at you, wiping away the last remaining tear that clung to your cheekbone. “I’ll just have to find a new favorite then.”

You swallowed a bit, your hand reaching up and resting on his wrist as you smiled shyly, sudden feeling nervous.

“I should probably get to class.” You said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Peter’s hand fell from your face quickly as he became aware of the new energy between you two.

“Yeah, yeah.” He cleared his throat harshly. “I should get going too.”

You nodded, allowing for silence to fall between you two as you quickly rushed to class, giving him a small wave before walking into the classroom.

The rest of the day felt uneventful and monotone with spurts of sadness and confusion here and there. You could feel the heartache of your breakup settle in every once in a while, especially in moments in which you let your mind wander while watching your ex-boyfriend now flirt with the girl beside him.

When your mind wasn’t wandering with thoughts of pain and heartbreak, it was full of thoughts of Peter and the moment you shared in the hallway.

It wasn’t that you’d never had a moment like that with Peter before, you’d had plenty of moments in which he comforted you while you were upset and visa versa. You were best friends, of course you’d have your fair share of comforting moments, such as the time when you spent a week at Peter’s house after his uncle passed away.

However, while you sat in class with your pen between your lips as you watched and counted down the minutes to the bell ringing, you couldn’t shake the feeling that that moment in the hallway meant something more to you.

As the bell finally rang, you practically ran out of the classroom and into the hall, only to run into the person you were looking for.

You feel backwards and onto the floor, slightly shocked by your bottom hitting the ground as Peter’s hand shot out towards you as he bent over.

“Shit, Y/n, you okay?” He asked as you grabbed his hand and allowed for him to help you up.

You dusted yourself off before picking up your bag. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“What were you running for?”

“I was, uh, looking for you. We’re supposed to go to a movie, right?”

Peter nodded, starting to walk towards the front entrance of the school, his hands shoved into his pockets as you walked closely beside him.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked after the silence between you felt too heavy for him to bear.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I don’t know how I could really feel better while having to see my newly ex flirt with another girl not even 24 hours after our breakup.”

“I’m sorry, Bug.”

“It’s not your fault.” You shrugged, kicking a rock that sat on the sidewalk in front of you. “He can do what he wants. He’s a single man now.”

“I wouldn’t call him much of a man.” Peter admitted, taking a look in your direction.

You kicked the rock again as you approached it, watching it bounce and tumble down the sidewalk and into the grass.

“Are MJ and Ned going to meet us at the theater or what’s the plan?” You asked, trying to derail the conversation from the topic you had no interest in rehashing.

Peter pulled a hand from his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck before putting it back in his pocket. He should’ve known you’d ask about the other two people who were supposed to be in attendance to your evening out.

“MJ had to go to detention since she’s behind on her sketchbook work for art class. You know how she is, likes to draw people in detention for whatever reason. And Ned went home sick after lunch. He made the mistake of eating the meatloaf.” He lied, surprised he thought of something believable off the top of his head.

In reality, he paid MJ twenty dollars to refrain from going to the movie and to lie about her whereabouts, something she never had trouble at doing, and he promised Ned that he’d spend the rest of the weekend helping him build another Star Wars lego model even though Peter wanted to grow out of the habit of playing with legos.

You frowned a bit, having hoped you could’ve had some much needed girl time with MJ and wanting the funny commentary and banter of Ned during a movie that would normally terrify you.

“Oh. Well, that sucks, but it’s okay. At least we’re still going together.” You raised your frown into a slight smile.

Silence fell between you once again, leaving the only audible sound to be the wind and your heels hitting the ground in unison as you walked towards the movie theater.

“Don’t worry about paying tonight. It’s my treat.” Peter stated as the theater came into view on the horizon.

“Oh, Peter, you don’t have to.”

“No, I want to. Just let me treat you to a night out. I feel bad that you’ve been having a rough day, so it’s the least I could do.”

You reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks before you engulfed him into a hug with your arms tight around his neck and your perfume filling his nostrils.

“Peter Parker, you are truly my best friend and the love of my life.” You announced proudly, not realizing that the words warmed Peter in a way he’d never experienced before.

“I love you too, Y/n, but I cannot breathe with you choking me out like this.” He said softly, pretending to wheeze as you pulled away, giving him a shove.

“You are so dramatic.” You chuckled, starting to walk down the sidewalk once again.

“I’m dramatic?” Peter scoffed as he jogged to keep up with you. “Aren’t you the theater nerd?”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not also a drama queen.”

“I’ll have you know, I am very good at keeping my cool.”

“Tell that to Flash Thompson and your little rivalry.”

“Flash is an asshole.”

“I’m not saying he isn’t,” you argued, “all I’m saying is that you get a bit dramatic with him. I like to think he’s secretly in love with you.”

“Ew, gross.” Peter shook his head. “Flash is the last person I’d want a dramatic romance with.”

“I think Flash is the last person anyone wants to have a romance with.” You laughed.

Peter was glad that it seemed your spirits were lifting as you finally made it to the theater. He could feel his own spirits lifted by your bettering mood which left him not needing to worry as much.

He didn’t know whether it was the elation in mood he was feeling between the two of you or the instinctive urge to keep you close and protected that had him reaching for your hand as he opened the door to the theater to let you in first, but as you walked through the corridor, he grabbed it without thought or hesitation.

You didn’t know what possessed him to grab your hand either, but you found yourself refraining from questioning it, wanting to feel the warmth and caring touch of someone else. Though your spirits were lifted a bit, you still felt lonely deep down.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, glancing down at you as he grabbed the tickets from the girl at the ticket counter and began to guide you towards the snack bar.

You nodded, unsure of what to say as Peter continued to watch you closely. You held your breath, suddenly nervous with his eyes on you before you were saved by his eyes travelling to view the menu far above your head.

“I’m thinking we get a large popcorn and two sodas.” He thought out loud as you frowned. “Unless, that’s not what you want?”

You blinked, shaking your head quickly as you spoke. “No, no, sorry. I got lost in thought. That sounds fine. I’m not that hungry, though.”

“How are you not hungry? You ate two bites of mac and cheese at lunch and then pushed it around on your tray.”

You shrugged, pulling your hand from his and crossing your arms over your chest. You were somewhat building up an appetite, but every time you did, you suddenly felt sick by your own intrusive thoughts about your heartache and break up with a boy you knew you shouldn’t have been crying over.

“I guess I’m not really in the mood to eat too much.” You finally said.

“Well, I’m still getting the large and if you ask for any, I won’t give you some. You already said no.” Peter teased.

“Oh, you would never say no to me.”

“You wanna bet?” Peter raised a brow as you reached the front of the short line.

“I’ll bet you a bag of overpriced M&M’s.”

“I thought you weren’t hungry.”

“I am always hungry for M&M’s.”

Peter smiled with a light eye roll. “Alright, but you can’t eat any until we determine who won.”

“Deal.”

You smiled as he turned away from you, ordering your snacks and you began taking each one from him before he carried the popcorn and his drink and you carried your own drink and the bag of M&M’s you were so excited to win. You watched your feet fall to the ground to his in unison as you two stayed silent, trying to navigate the hallway for the theater your movie was in.

“Hey, Peter?” You caught the boy’s attention as he walked through the open door of your theater, a fistful of popcorn in his hand as he looked at you.

“Yeah?” He began walking backwards as he faced you and tossed the popcorn into his mouth.

“Can I have some popcorn?”

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded as he spoke through his mouthful of popcorn and held the bucket out to you.

You began laughing, taking a few pieces of popcorn and popping them into your mouth.

“Why are you laughing?” Peter asked as you were giggling beside him now following him up the stairs of the theater before looking down at his bucket. “Oh. I guess you can have those M&M’s after all.”

“We just made this bet! How’d you forget already?” You chuckled, walking past him and into an aisle, picking the perfect seat in the middle of the theater.

“I-I don’t know! I got so involved in the popcorn I forgot.”

“I guess that’s one way of saying you want to marry a food item.” You teased as he rolled his eyes and took a seat beside you.

“You know, I’m not going to get mad cause you’re going through it, but when you’re over it, I will get you back for this.”

“How? You’re already a victim of premature Alzheimer’s. You won’t remember this by the time I get a new boyfriend.”

You reached over, grabbing a handful of popcorn and beginning to eat the pieces one by one as you watched Peter closely.

“You know, sometimes I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“How would you know?”

“Cause you don’t even have a mean bone in your body. Flash bullies you mercilessly and you don’t even say anything back.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” You shook your head. “It makes you a good guy. And we need good guys in this world.”

“You think I’m a good guy?” Peter raised his brow as you nodded wildly at him.

“Of course I do.” You leaned over, placing a hand on his. “You’re not just a good guy, but a guy too good for this world, you know? You deserve the world, but the world doesn’t deserve you.”

Peter leaned in close to you. “Sorry, I don’t think I heard that.”

You could feel your breath hitch as he leaned in, his face a few mere inches from yours. It wasn’t that you were scared, but nervous at your excitement at the thought of him kissing you.

Peter could feel your anxious energy as he leaned in close, the urge to kiss you in the way he’d always wanted to growing strong as he moved his head so your lips were lined up to his ear. It wasn’t that he wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t want to take advantage of your loneliness in that moment.

You leaned in close to his ear, your nostrils now full of his shampoo as you spoke softly. “I said that I thought you were such a great guy that you deserve the world, but the world doesn’t deserve you.”

“You mean that?” He answered back, his voice as soft as your own.

He did dare lean back or move his head from the position it was in for fear that he’d kiss you so soon. The words you were saying were ones he always wanted you to say, but never thought would come out. He wanted to be everything you ever wanted, but your words now felt somewhat short yet so close to that sentiment.

“Of course I do.” You replied, your own urge to kiss him rising steadfast in the back of your mind.

You couldn’t tell if it was your loneliness or the sudden dimming of the theater lights that had you realizing that all you wanted was to cross the line of friendship with Peter, a line you never realized was made to be crossed when it came to your friendship.

Every touch, every sweet nothing, every thing about him you loved began to swirl around in your mind as you pulled away from him and gazed into his eyes before planting your lips on his, pushing him back into the armrest of his seat.

Peter was shocked by the gesture as he leaned into the kiss, his hands resting on your cheeks before you pulled away from him breathlessly.

“Y/n, I-”

“Peter.” You cut him off before giggling. “Go ahead.”

“Bug, I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you and your feelings about your breakup even though I really like you and-”

You cut the boy off with another kiss, not wanting to hear what he had to say. You knew he was going to give you some speech about how you might not know what your feeling and so on, but you didn’t care. You knew that you kissed him and you liked it and that it felt more right than any date with Brad.

You pulled away, putting a hand over his mouth before he could speak as you began to instead. “Peter, I know how I feel. I like you too, okay? Now, can we just take advantage of the fact we’re some of the few people in here and just hang out?”

Peter nodded, pulling your hand off of him. “I think I’d like that.”

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okaybutlikeimagine · 4 years

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Harringrove for Australia: okayshitbird

hi there everyone! ♥ the amazingly magnificent and so insanely sweet @okayshitbird requested this fic from me for #HarringroveforAustralia! for anyone thinking “wow you’re incredibly late with this”... you’d be right! but I tried and it’s finished now and isn’t that all that matters?? ~♥

prompt: Billy has to meet Steve’s parents, w/ fluff and enough angst to make the fluff hit hard

tags: mentions of non-graphic sex after the fact (I don’t know how else to tag that 😬), humor, fluff, angst, romance, Dumb Boys TM

You can catch it at AO3 right here if you want!

Word Count: 18,910 (way over word limit you say?? sorry can’t hear you, woops...)

thanks hun, and thanks again to @tracy7307 for being SUCH an amazing doll and putting HfA together for all of us!!

alright i’m gonna go pretend like I have the attention span to deal with my responsibilities, bye babes.

Stay safe! ♥

-----

More Than a Crush

It’s a gorgeously warm summer evening. The chirping of the evening birds mixes with the hum of the bugs creating a far more pleasant chorus than anyone could ever expect, especially someone from a place so different than this. The sound of the world outside is what Billy thinks the sun would sound like. The feeling around him is what he thinks happiness feels like. True happiness. The pure feeling of being content. There’s a short list of things in Billy’s life that have ever felt as gorgeous as this moment.

He’s really not sure why Steve insists on ruining it.

“My parents want to meet you.”

It’s Steve’s voice, saying it plainly, as if he’s talking about the weather. There’s immediate silence, Billy’s fingers digging into the warm-to-the-touch flesh of Steve’s arms as he’s holding him.

“Excuse me?” Billy asks, Steve’s statement hitting Billy sharp in his chest because what the fuck.

“My parents-”

“It’s been a good day, right?” Billy cuts in, because he’s not sure he can hear that again and stay calm. “We’re having a good time?”

They pause again. Steve just blinks from his position on Billy’s chest.

“Yes?” There’s obvious trepidation in Steve’s voice. “Are you having a good-?”

Billy cuts him off. He’s antsy.

“We got lunch, we smoked a little bit, we watched those birds… we fucked. Twice.”

Steve rolls his eyes like he’s trying to make a point of the action, but nothing hides the smirk on his face.

“It’s been a good day.” Billy says again.

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “It’s been a good-”

“So why are you screwing it up?”

Steve’s face pulls into something that looks appalled, rearing back to punch Billy’s shoulder lightly.

“Shut up!” Steve is indignant. “I’m not screwing with anything!”

Steve’s face is so genuinely irritated that Billy feels like the one screwing things up right now, and he definitely doesn’t appreciate the feeling.

“You should be screwing me-” Billy says with notes of resentment he’s sure he’d never be able to hide.

Steve shoves at Billy’s shoulder again before leaning down to bite lightly at it. Billy squirms involuntarily at the feeling, his body running a bit hot at the feel of Steve’s teeth. It always does that.

“Yeah yeah, shut up.” Steve mumbles against Billy’s shoulder, soft lips grazing the tanned skin as he flops his head down on the pillow next to Billy. “Look, I’m just saying, my parents told me they wanted to meet you.”

“Why do your parents even know about me?” Billy’s voice is a lot softer now as Steve traces little circles around his chest. It’s not voluntary. It’s those damn doe eyes and those damn soft touches that knead his heart into something more malleable; something more gentle.

It lasts for about a second, because he has to slap the hand of his stupid boyfriend who decides he wants to start pulling at Billy’s curly chest hair. Steve chuckles.

“Because I tell them about you.”

Billy sighs. “That’s my question, dipshit. Why are you telling them about me?”

Steve props himself back up on his elbows. His eyes are earnest. It feels like Steve’s hands have reached into Billy’s chest to play with his heart instead. Billy doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to someone looking at him with so much… care in their eyes. So much admiring love. It’s so much that Billy couldn’t even put a finger on what it was for months. He just felt this gut feeling bubbling up in him, even lashed out the first few times out of confusion, but now it just makes him feel weak at the knees. Weak all over. Billy’s not used to feeling weak.

But here he is, falling into that now-familiar weakness as he looks into Steve’s eyes that search him like he’s Paradise. Like he’s got all the answers within him.

“Because…” Steve starts again, voice silky smooth and hitting Billy’s heart all over again. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”

It’s… earnest.

So earnest it makes Billy sick to his stomach.

Billy lightly slaps the top of Steve’s head.

“Shut up, Bambi.” Billy can’t find an ounce of malice to inject into his voice, but it’s not for lack of trying. He hates all this mushy stuff. At least… he wants to hate it. “You’re gonna ruin everything.”

“Am not! My parents always meet my friends.”

“I-th…” Billy pauses. “They do?”

Steve nods. “They’ve known Tommy since we were toddlers and they met Carol a few years ago.”

Billy must get some kind of wistful look in his eye- on his face -because Steve nips it real quick.

“It’s not as sweet as you might think.” Steve pipes in quickly, groaning a bit as he lays his forehead on Billy’s chest. “They do it for their… reputation or whatever. They just wanna make sure you’re not ruining my image. They probably hear shit from their friends.”

“Am I ruining your image, babe?” Billy asks, holding the sides of Steve’s head gingerly to pull him up towards his face. He runs his tongue along the shell of Steve’s ear, revelling in the breath released before he twists his tongue around to stick it at least somewhere near the inside of Steve’s ear.

Hey, Billy’s the first to admit he’s a brat.

He gets pushed away, a disgusted sound coming from the boy on top of him. Billy chuckles, liking the feeling of Steve’s weight on top of him as his chest vibrates from his laughs.

“Cut it out!” Steve groans, scooting away minutely. “You’re not ruining anything. They’re just stupid. And they wanna meet you.”

“Okay, well…” Billy’s not sure what else there is to say. He finds no other words fit in his mouth. He gives in. “Okay.”

The air between them turns still and Billy watches Steve’s shoulders stiffen as he looks up, eyes impossibly wide.

“Okay?” There’s so much hope in his voice.

Billy sighs, his chest tight from more than just Steve laying on him. He’s being constricted by every expectation, but he’s not moving any time soon. There’s no way he’s moving away from Steve.

Billy nods.

“Yeah, okay. If your parents wanna meet me… fine. Alright.”

And now the pressure in Billy’s chest is mostly Steve, who has decided to squeeze the life out of Billy in a crushing hug.

If the sound that comes out of Billy could be labelled as a “squeak” or even “unmanly”, he would never in his life admit to it.

“Alright, alright!” He shoves at Steve’s shoulder until the boy lets up. “What are we gonna do? Dinner at the Harringtons? Do I need to wear my slacks?”

Billy wiggles playfully under Steve and winks at him for good measure. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Uh… not exactly.”

It’s not what Billy expected to hear. His heart skips with nerves.

“Well, what are we doing?” Billy couldn’t explain the racing of his heart if he tried. “Your dad doesn’t seem like the type to take me hunting to protect your honor.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, no… uh…. Well…”

“Well what? Spit it out, Bambi.”

Steve bites his lip and it takes all of Billy not to get distracted so he can hear Steve say: “We’re gonna need to go shopping.”

~~*~~

Billy hates shopping.

He hates the bright signs, he hates the fake smiles… he hates capitalism. Really, there’s nothing redeeming about going shopping. Not even Steve Harrington can help his hatred of shopping.

“Billy...” Steve sounds like he’s about to chastise Billy and it’s really not helping.

“Shut up.” Billy hisses, near snapping, but he holds himself back enough to take a breath. “Why do we have to be here? Why can’t I just borrow something?”

“Because you’ve already ripped enough of my clothes trying to fit into them.” Steve says, face blank as he turns to walk into the Polo store. Billy’s mad about it, but he follows after a few steps.

“It’s not that bad.” Billy mumbles, sauntering as much as he can until he walks through the doors and effectively feels himself shrink down. He hates the Polo store. He’s come here a couple of times before, only with Steve. His family isn’t rich enough for this and, truthfully, he can’t imagine going anywhere that would warrant these clothes anyway. All these pastels and collared short sleeves… it’s semi-idiotic to Billy. Not to mention those stupid little shorts…

And… yeah, don’t get him wrong, Steve looks great in all of this stuff. There’s nothing like Steve’s ass in some preppy pants, sure, but that doesn’t mean Billy has to wear them just to appreciate them.

“What about this?” Steve asks, pointing out a baby blue shirt that makes Billy gag.

“Are you kidding?”

“I think it’d bring out your eyes!” Steve says, sifting through the sizes. Billy can’t think of a single thing to do with himself except stand there and watch his preppy boyfriend sort through preppy clothes to dress him in like a doll.

“I think it looks like I’m going to brunch on my parent’s yacht.” Billy pulls a face as Steve chuckles, with some kind of pity.

“That’s kind of what we’re going for, here, babe.” Steve says, keeping hold of the shirt as he searches for more colors. Or something. Billy’s really just being pushed by the wind, here.

And he wants to throw more of a fit. He kind of wants to be a brat about it. He wants to be that little kid inside of him that’s kicking and screaming to leave because he feels uncomfortable and out of place and exhausted… but…

But he knows he can’t because this actually means something. This is meeting Steve’s family for the first time and yeah, they’re not telling them about their relationship or anything, but it’s still important to get this right. He doesn’t wanna give Steve any grief because his parents think Billy is an asshole, and he definitely doesn’t want to have to hide in public any more than they already do. They hide enough, he doesn’t want it getting worse.

It’s just…

“It looks like the Easter Bunny ralphed in here.”

“You’re not wrong.” Steve says on a chuckle before shoving a few shirts into Billy’s chest. “Alright, try these on.”

Billy pulls a face.

“Uh… real funny, princess, but no.”

Billy has only admitted it out loud a handful of times, but Steve looks cute when he gets all defiant like that with his hands on his hips.

“You’re trying them on.” Steve orders. Billy won’t lie, it gets him a little hot watching Steve order him around. “You’re not going to this with a ripped shirt.”

“Like you wouldn’t love that.” Billy says on a scoff, but his voice is quiet. The more he talks back the more sour it tastes on his tongue.

“You know I’d love to rip them off you myself but you have to-”

“I don’t want to go into that stuffy dressing room.” Billy raises his voice. He’s pouting like El. Like a brat. He feels it on his lips without even thinking about it but honestly, he’s not sure how he can be rightly blamed for this. He’s so deeply uncomfortable that he’s slipped into default mode, which happens to coincide with “bratty mode”. So sue him.

Steve’s eyebrows are knitted with irritation. He looks like he wants to do more than just sue him.

“Look,” Steve starts darkly, hitting Billy with a look that immediately shuts him up. “You’re talking to the guy who went through a major growth spurt the same summer that his mother decided she needed to go to every stupid country club function. I was in that stuffy dressing room every week. You can handle like, one hour.”

Billy doesn’t want to say he feels sheepish… but he’s feeling pretty sheepish. He watches Steve pant a little bit from the energy he’s exerted. It’s kind of cute, even though Billy’s heart feels sore for having to be told off.

Because he knows this means a lot. Steve knows this is killing Billy and he wouldn’t make Billy sit through something so draining if it didn’t mean a lot and… and Billy’s been kind of an asshole. He’ll be the first to admit… he’s the only one allowed to admit, thank you… and…

Billy shrinks about 3 sizes. He eyes Steve through thick lashes.

“One hour?” He asks, voice small. Steve is the only one to ever get him this way.

Steve gives a hopeful smile and nods, holding the shirts out yet again. He looks triumphant. Billy lets it slide.

“That’s about as long as I wanna be here, too.” Steve admits, raising an eyebrow to get Billy to accept the shirts.

He does with a sigh.

Billy heads into the dressing room with an irritated flair, aiming for melodrama. He’s standing in the dressing room and feels physically pained every time he puts on a new pastel polo. Which isn’t to say he’s unable to pull off these looks, because he can wear a garbage bag and still be one of the most fuckable people in Hawkins, it’s just… all this pastel and these stupid collared shirts. If anyone were to see him like this, he’d have to beat them up. There’d be no option.

He purposefully ignores the tags, knowing Steve is going to insist on buying everything no matter what he says. He still remembers the time that Steve insisted on buying Billy a new pair of fancy shoes, saying he had just been given some “emergency money” that actually equated to “you just caught your dad cheating for the 3rd time this year, please don’t talk about it to anyone” money before his parents left for yet another extravagant business trip.

Billy felt some kind of pride in “taking money” from an asshole like that.

Now Billy is going to have to meet that asshole...

But still, he doesn’t like money being spent on him. It always leaves a weird type of pain in his chest, knowing he can’t reciprocate all these gifts to his boyfriend who very clearly is acquainted with the finer things of life. He can’t spoil Steve as much as he wants to. Not that he’d ever in his life admit to wanting to… but still. He knows. He knows how badly he wants to give the world to Steve and how incapable of doing so he is, but that doesn’t change a whole lot. Steve seems happy with what they have.

But will he always be?

“Billy! How long does it take to put a shirt on?”

Billy jumps, stepping out of the dressing room with a scowl on his face that looks far more like a pout.

“You look so good!” Steve nearly coos and Billy is about to throw something at him.

“Shut up.” His face burns and if he’s blushing he’ll punch someone for pointing it out.

And as Billy tries on the handful of shirts that Steve shoved his way, he starts to feel like he’s in some kind of cheesy movie montage. He pouts his way through it, walking out each time and giving his best unimpressed look, spinning when Steve tells him to spin before going back in to change his shirt.

He walks out in a particularly vomit-inducing polo with pale pink and blue horizontal stripes, spinning slowly with his arms out at his sides, before turning quickly to look over his shoulder with a single eyebrow raised. He figures hamming it up is the best way to give himself some entertainment.

Steve laughs.

“You’re a stunner!”

Billy winks in response and saunters back into the dressing room, turning around to face Steve, still eyeing him sexily before saying: “I hate them all.” and closing the curtain with a swish.

And if he smirks at the loud, frustrated groan Steve gives… well he wouldn’t necessarily call it sadistic...

They take another walk through the store, and Billy refuses to drag his feet. He may hate it here but he’s not a child, thank you.

Then, the unthinkable happens: something catches his eye. In a good way.

“These.”

Steve seems eager to see what Billy’s talking about, turning quickly. His face cracks into a smile before it’s replaced by a (probably forced) scowl, because there’s no fooling Billy. He knows the boy was about to laugh.

“No… no Billy.”

“Yes.”

“Billy they… they have skulls on them.”

They do. They’re a bright, almost Pepto-Bismol looking pink with tiny skull-and-crossbone images embroidered on them. They kind of make Billy’s stomach ache because of how heinous they are but they’re also the best things Billy has seen in this hell of a store and he thinks they match his own “image”, so… he’ll take them.

“You bet babe.” Billy adds a wink for good measure, picking up the shorts in a couple of sizes before sauntering over to the dressing room. “It’s this or I’m going in just a jockstrap. You know I mean it.”

Steve takes a breath, makes like he’s gonna speak, but Billy turns and gives him a look that lets him know that whatever he’s about to say isn’t going to effectively reach Billy’s ears.

Steve sighs, but there’s a laugh on his lips and its twin can be found in his eyes. That’s one of Billy’s favorite things about this stupidly good looking boy.

When Billy gets to the dressing room, two shirts are being thrown in after him.

“You have to wear a shirt.”

Billy sticks his tongue out.

Steve leans forward to steal a kiss, lightly and playfully biting Billy’s tongue before separating and closing the curtain.

Billy’s mind feels so fuzzy, he barely registers the clothes he’s putting on.

~~*~~

The day has finally come and never in his life has Billy felt like this much of a dork.

Something about this really does feel like torture. Even though he knows that right now he’s only surrounded by people who love him wholeheartedly, this still feels like a form of sadism. Billy suddenly thinks he might understand what those little toy poodles go through.

Because right now everyone is… cooing at him. Joyce has stood Billy in the hallway (where Jonathan said the lighting is probably best) and is currently attempting to work Jonathan’s camera to take pictures. Jonathan is right next to her, trying to show her the buttons to press and where to look when she wants to take a picture. Jim is standing behind them, deep chuckles clearly bubbling up in his chest and a smirk he can’t keep hidden smeared all over his face. Every now and then he makes eye contact with Billy and tries a little harder to keep his laughter down. Billy tries to find something to appreciate about it.

El is bouncing around in the back, giggling and pulling Will over to whisper to him. Will just shrugs, face red and laughter hidden in the corners of his smile. Billy knows he can’t get mad at them.

Jonathan though…

“Oh here, you just take it, honey.” Joyce concedes, handing the camera back over to her son with exasperation in her voice. Jonathan scrambles for the camera, hanging it around his neck before turning to Billy with a smirk on his face- a smirk that says: you’re never living this down. It’s in his raised eyebrow and all.

Billy’s gonna kill the boy.

“Say cheese.” Jonathan says with the smarmiest grin possible.

“I’ll kill you.” Billy says through gritted teeth, keeping his tone as sweet as possible. Jonathan laughs before taking the shot.

“Okay, okay, now I think we should get one over here!” Joyce is bouncing, tapping Jonathan’s shoulder excitedly. “The wallpaper is nice over here.”

Jonathan is cackling now, mixing with the low rumbles of Hop’s laughter as they walk down the hallway. Will and El move out of the way, heading to the kitchen for something.

Billy’s teeth are still clenched tight.

“I’d really rather not.” Billy says with as little anger in his voice as he can muster.

“I know, I’m sorry, dear, just a few more pictures! It’s just, I have pictures of all the other kids all dressed up and you look so nice!” Joyce brings a hand up to replace a curl that’s slipped out of where Billy has attempted to grease them back. Everything she does is so maternal- it all has such a loving touch that it softens Billy instantly. “Just a couple more pictures? Is that okay, honey?”

It’s just them in the hallway now, the chatter of the other people in the house sounding distant enough that the irritation in Billy’s chest simmers down to just about nothing. It’s just him and this woman who somehow always makes him think about the good memories of his mother. Not even the tangible ones, but rather the fuzzy ones that crop up more as feelings than as pictures. It’s something he’s not sure he knows how to truly appreciate. It’s something he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to again. It’s warm. It makes this whole place seem a little more like home.

It also makes it a lot harder to say no.

Because there Joyce is, looking at him like he’s one of her children. Like he’s her son all dressed up for picture day. He’s not fully sure what to do with himself. Especially because she’s asking his permission. So few authority figures ever do that.

He sighs.

“Alright.” He says, giving her a tired smile when her eyes light up at his response.

He follows after her into the living room, exhausted just from existing in these stupid clothes, having to look at all of these stupid smiles laughing at him like he’s a clown. He feels like a clown.

They’d probably insist it’s out of love and care. He’d definitely beg to differ.

But he’s still standing there, chin tilted up and hands clasped behind his back, doing his best to puff his chest and broaden his shoulders to look as manly as possible… even though he’s dressed like a damn Easter egg.

“C’mon, son, give us a smile!” It’s Hop, humor dancing in his eyes. “Let us see those teeth!”

Billy’s teeth are still gritted, mirth and pain definitely visible in his eyes.

“I swear to God.” He mutters under his breath before allowing the corners of his mouth to tilt up into a smile.

“C’mon a little wider.” Jonathan says through a smirk.

“Just take the picture.” Billy says through his smile, followed by the click of the camera.

Joyce fusses for a bit, moving over to the wall where all the kids have their pictures hung and trying to figure out the best place for Billy’s to go when Jonathan eventually produces it. Jonathan, still with that amused smirk on his face, wanders over to Billy.

“Hope you know how blackmail worthy these are.” Jonathan says with a glint in his eye. Billy makes sure to shoot daggers back.

“You better sleep with that camera under your pillow tonight, bud.” Billy says with sugar in his voice. He elbows Jonathan, who elbows him back, to which Billy responds with a harder hit.

The two are tussling about like a couple of kids before there’s a knock at the door.

Everyone stops at the sound, but when the bubble pops in the next second they’re all moving to answer it.

“I’ve got it!” Billy calls over the sound of them rushing to the door, taking long strides to push past them and get them away from the knob. “God, you’re a bunch of animals.” He chastises as he swings the door open.

On the other side of the door is Steve all dressed up in matching Easter colors. He’s looking down at his shoes, kicking a bit at the doorway in a nervous kind of gesture the second that Billy opens the door, and in the next he’s looking up with wide eyes.

He’s nervous why is he so nervous now I’m even more nervous oh God...

Billy squirms a bit where he stands.

Steve blinks hard. Billy doesn’t appreciate the silence, or the gathering of everyone behind his back that he can sense.

“Well? You got something to say, Bambi?” Billy’s foot is tapping incessantly. He can’t help it. He cracks all the knuckles on his left hand just by using his fingers. He’s nervous... and he swears he can feel everyone’s collective breath on his back.

Steve shakes himself out of his stupor.

“You look so good.” Steve nearly breathes it out. It kills Billy.

There are more than a few coos behind him, followed by a few amused chuckles. Billy’s face is currently burning red hot, but it’s not distracting enough to keep him from turning around and glaring at his family.

They’re all crowded together, doing their best to look at the scene in front of them without getting too close. When they get caught, they scatter.

Billy turns back to Steve, face still bright and hot. He absolutely hates the feeling, so much so that he can’t even think about wiping the scowl off his face.

“Yeah, whatever. You do too.” Billy feels sophomoric. Like a young girl who got asked to prom by a Senior guy. Like he’s waiting for his corsage or whatever. He feels so foolish.

“Thanks.” Steve says, eyeing Billy up and down. “You slicked your hair back.”

Billy reaches up for it self-consciously. He feels that curl that fell out earlier and brushes it back.

“Yeah, what of it?”

“Why?” Steve asks, a little smile on his lips.

Billy’s not sure why he’s so irritated by the question, but he wants to believe the red on his face that he’s deeply sure is out of nervousness is actually red out of anger.

“I tried to look presentable. This is about impressing your parents, isn’t it?”

Billy’s trying not to snap, but it’s hard not to after being so strung up all week. It’s all he’s been able to think about is standing out in a field of flowers with a bunch of stuffy rich people.

Steve nods. His eyes turn softer, even though Billy’s close to barking.

A tiny shoulder is pressing into Billy’s arm then, shoving him out of the way with surprising strength.

“Hi Steve!” El says cheerfully, beaming her little smile up at the boy.

“Hi kiddo.” Steve says, smiling back just as bright. Billy shifts in place.

“Steve!” Joyce calls from inside the house. Steve and El turn to look at her, but Billy is staring at the stupidly nice shoes on his feet.

Nervous nervous way too nervous why am I so nervous please don’t ask him in...

“Won’t you come inside? I’ve got lemonade!”

Pictures she wants pictures don’t ask for pictures...

“I’d love to get a good picture of you both, too-”

Billy cuts in. He doesn’t feel too bad about it.

“We’re running late, already.” Billy says, loudly, to try to send a hint to this room full of people who can never seem to take one.

Billy still has his back facing the house, so he can’t see Joyce’s face. He figures it’s better this way, otherwise they’d be dragged into another photo session and Billy really cannot handle that right now. Not when his heart is trying to pack it’s bags and run away to the fucking city. He just looks up at Steve, shooting the boy his biggest, cry for help, ”please-have-my-back-here-babe” face that he can.

Steve takes the hint and gives a little nod.

“Yeah, we really are kind of late. My parents don’t like me being late to this stuff.” Steve shrugs. There’s more words on his tongue, Billy can see it. Steve kind of word-vomits when he starts talking about his parents and all the ways he seems to think he disappoints them. It makes Billy’s chest hurt more often than not. It ends in Billy kissing the guilt away more often than not.

“Oh of course! No worries then, dear!” There’s not a lot of disappointment in Joyce’s voice. Billy lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He leans himself against the doorway, facing the other side of the threshold’s frame.

“You can’t drive us?” El asks, looking up with puppy dog eyes that could pull at anyone’s heart.

“Nah, can’t today, kiddo. We have to be somewhere.” Steve says. It makes Billy think something so stupid he wouldn’t even admit it to himself.

Kids kids kids kids…

He pushes the thought away to briefly wonder why Jonathan can’t take them. Figures it’s something with Nancy. He’s not dressed yet and the kids seem antsy to be somewhere. He’s fine with his mind on that, on anything away from where he’s about to be headed.

“It’s okay, El, we can just take my bike.” Will says, suddenly showing up at the side of them.

The four of them push through the door, giving their respective goodbyes before Billy and Steve climb into Steve’s car and El crowds Will on the back of his bike. They make the bike look a little small, but they’ve done this before. It still makes Billy laugh a bit. Seeing the two giggle a little when Will loses his balance for a second lightens Billy’s heart.

“Ready to go?” Steve asks, like they didn’t rush out to the car to get going. Like they aren’t really late and like Steve didn’t really mean what he said about his parents, even though Billy knows he did.

Billy nods.

“Yeah, let’s just… do it.”

Steve nods for a little too long. He can’t get the keys in the ignition without fumbling a bit. They drive and Billy can’t even think about how much he dislikes the song currently playing.

He’s fidgeting still.

Nervous nervous so nervous why am I so nervous what the fuck is wrong with me-

“You nervous?” Steve asks around a bubble in his throat. He clears it with a cough after he speaks.

Billy snorts unattractively and pushes back his hair, even though the curl isn’t loose anymore. He reaches for the top of his button down, unbuttoning and rebuttoning because he needs to do something.

“No.” he lies through his teeth.

Steve gives a little sigh.

“Yeah, me too.”

It confuses Billy for a second.

“What?”

“I’m nervous, too.” Steve says, voice a little shaky. Billy doesn’t know what to say. He feels appreciation bubble up inside of him that he tries to mask with irritation.

“I’m no-” His voice catches and immediately he’s mad about it. “I’m not.”

It sounds so stupid now that it’s out in the air. He looks out the window, like it’ll help the heat blooming on his face. He unbuttons the second button too.

Then there’s a hand taking hold of his left one. Billy looks at it, watches Steve’s thumb rub at the skin between his index and thumb. He looks up at Steve, who’s still got his eyes on the road.

“Thanks for… agreeing. I know it’s shit. Trust me, I don’t want to be going here either. But… it means a lot. And no matter what, I’m still your boyfriend, alright? I don’t care what anyone thinks.”

Billy’s eyes prick with tears. He’s not even sure why they’re there, but he blames it on how high strung he’s been all week. How pulled taut he’s felt since Steve brought this whole thing up. He’s just boiling over, that’s all.

Steve looks over at him, eyes getting soft and worry resting in his brow.

“Billy?”

“Just drive, you idiot.” Billy mumbles, turning back to the window while grabbing firm hold of Steve’s hand.

~~*~~

Billy is beyond uncomfortable.

Truly beyond uncomfortable. He’s itching in his button down, which Steve insisted looked better than the dark blue polo and would be much cooler to wear than the dark color in the bright sun, but Billy barely heard him. After a certain point (and that damn kiss) Billy just trusted Steve’s judgement.

But now he’s itching. He’s still unbuttoning the top button on his shirt, fingers twitching to unbutton the next one (or two) along with the first, but knows Steve would just close them up like he’s been doing with the top one.

“You’re not my mom.” Billy had muttered, squinting in the sun of the bright summer day.

“No but I’m your boyfriend.” Steve had said quietly, fixing the button again and making Billy’s heart palpitate.

And now they’re standing in a damn garden, big, bright, white, fancy, canopy tents propped up and scattered around the park, a little ways away from each other so you have to wander into the bright sun to get to the next one. There’s fancy tables with fancy trays of fancy food that Billy finds absolutely ridiculous.

Steve’s parents have been talking to people for the past twenty minutes. Steve made eye contact with them and waved once they arrived, but both of them just gave vaguely pleasant smiles while still schmoozing whoever it was that was more important than their son and his friend. That they themselves requested to meet.

Assholes.

“Whatever.” Steve had muttered under his breath before veering towards a waiter carrying around what Billy assumed was a tray of mimosas. Billy, for as nervous as he was and still is, didn’t exactly want to start drinking before he even spoke to the two. Y’know, good first impressions and all that. He hadn’t known before what it felt like to care this much, but he doesn’t exactly hate it.

Steve has downed about 3 mimosas, the two of them standing a ways away from his parents so that they can jump in when they’re free.

They still have to wait about five minutes before it’s their “turn”.

“Hi mom, hi dad.” Steve says, something plastic about his movements. It’s weird for Billy to watch.

“Hello there, Steve.” His dad says in a pleasant enough way. He doesn’t set off enough alarm bells in Billy’s head for him to get upset.

“Hello dear.” Steve’s mom says pleasantly in turn, leaning forward to give Steve a sideways kiss on his cheek, keeping her lips from making contact so she doesn’t smear him with lipstick. Steve purses his lips a bit as well.

“This must be your friend!” His mother says it like she just noticed him standing there. She offers a delicate hand, palm down, showing off her perfectly manicured nails. It seems like she’s asking Billy to kiss it or something. He reaches for it and decides it best to give her the satisfaction. He’s been trying to parse out how thick he wants to lay all his charm on. He finally decided “real thick” was the best option.

He leans down and gives the back of her palm a light kiss, immediately noticing that her hands don’t really give away her age like some other mothers Billy has come into contact with. Billy isn’t able to tell what age she may be. Steve insinuated once that his parents had him young- younger than was advised for them both- and now Billy thinks that probably makes sense.

When he comes back up, she’s giving him that look that makes his stomach churn. The look that every mother in his life has ever given him, save from his own and now Joyce. The look that comes off as if she thinks she’s the first to give it, but that Billy has seen since he was about 14 and his voice dropped.

Billy turns his attention to the father. He gives the firmest handshake he can, just on the edge of bruising the man’s skin. He’s a lot taller than Billy, hair perfectly groomed back with just the right amount of gray in it to make him seem wisened. He’s real young too- so young Billy thinks he may have dyed his hair a little gray to get that “salt and pepper” look that’s probably on trend or something. It makes Billy internally roll his eyes.

The man’s not exactly stocky, but he’s not trim either. Probably eats his fair share of expensive meats and works out a couple of days a week just to say he does. Maybe to fuck his personal trainer. Billy’s extrapolating now, but he doesn’t think he’s reaching very far.

“Nice to meet you.” Mr. Harrington says like he’s not at all displeased by this interaction. Billy takes it as a win. “I’m Charles Harrington.”

“Nice to meet you too, sir.” Billy’s mouth doesn’t want to form around the title, but he gives it anyway. Laying it on thick, and all. “Billy Hargrove.”

“He is quite a handsome one, isn’t he?” Steve’s mom asks, grabbing Steve’s arm to wrap her own around it. It’s like she’s talking with one of her socialite friends and thinks she’s out of ear shot.

Steve rolls his eyes.

“Yes, and he can hear you.” Steve mutters. Billy watches as her face doesn’t move a muscle but her hand claws slightly into her son’s arm.

“It’s always so nice to meet one of Steve’s little friends.” She starts again, eyes crinkled into a smile that’s not entirely disingenuous.

It’s not evil. Billy’s seen his fair share of evil women. She just seems a little less than satisfied with whatever situation she’s in. Billy does know that Mr. Harrington is a serial cheater, but he hasn’t heard anything about the mother. She’s still young and an attractive enough woman as far as Billy can tell. She could probably get one of these rich bastards to fuck her in one of the dozens of rooms at the country club.

Either way, it’s not really his business, and he doesn’t really want to think about his boyfriend’s mom getting railed while she’s gazing hazily at him like he’s the one that would do it for her. Either that or like he’s the man she probably reads about in her horny novels.

Steve has something poisonous on his lips, probably something like “he’s not little”. Be it with a dirty undertone or not, Billy guesses it doesn’t really matter.

He’s still fidgeting a bit, but he keeps his charming composure up.

“And it’s nice to finally meet the Harringtons. I’ll say, you’re definitely far from matronly, Mrs. Harrington.”

Billy doesn’t know if he should do the typical, cliche thing and say she looks like Steve’s sister. Considering she had him pretty young, it might strike the wrong chord.

Whatever, he said what he did with enough sugar to make her blush.

“Oh, Billy.” She tuts, rolling her eyes a bit and placing a hand on one of her cheeks, clearly becoming a bit flush. Billy takes a bit more pride in it than normal. He is here to schmooze, after all. “I bet you drive all the girls just crazy, don’t you?”

Billy’s been in this situation for about two minutes and already he has to feel out if he should act like a smarmy slut or like a proper gentleman.

He figures in-between is the best bet. Doesn’t want them catching on or anything...

“There’s definitely a few girls.” He says, hands clasped behind his back so he can hide his fidgeting. “But they don’t seem to get that I’m a wine and dine kind of guy.”

Billy has had what probably equates to about 2 glasses of wine in his whole life. He figures the tiny details don’t exactly matter.

He’s laid the charm on thick enough to get Mrs. Harrington giggling again, and said it with just enough charm to get Mr. Harrington to chuckle the smallest bit as well. It’s an oddly good feeling.

“We’ve got a regular casanova on our hands.” Mr. Harrington says with something that sounds like acceptance in his voice. “Good thing, too. I feel like we don’t get a lot of your kind in Hawkins.”

Billy gives them a smile and shifts his eyes to Steve, who looks a mix of nervous and amused. If only these two knew that more often than not he’s riding their son in the front seat of his Camaro, or fucking him up against the hood, or laying out in a field shotgunning a joint. If only they knew he sucked their son dry in the locker room after basketball practice back when they were still convinced they hated each other.

Casanova indeed. Real wine and dine.

“And your shorts!” Steve’s mother pipes up brightly. “So colorful! I love the little spots embroidered on them.”

“Actually, they’re skulls.” It’s Steve who admits to it, an irritated look on his face that’s somehow also laced with smugness. He’s clearly trying to get under their skin as much as they’re under his.

They both turn to Steve, before looking back down at Billy’s pants. The two lean in a little bit.

“That they are, huh?” Mr. Harrington says, sounding semi-impressed. “Well, would you look at that! A sense of fashion, as well!”

Steve rolls his eyes. Billy makes eye contact with him so he can share this semi-triumphant moment.

Steve seems about to say something, but his father cuts him off.

“So tell us, Billy-” Mr. Harrington seems hard pressed saying the name “Billy”, and it gives Billy some weird, perverse joy. “What does your father do?”

Billy’s immediately winded by the question, throat held tight by the thoughts that race through his mind in an instant.

In his stupor, Billy’s vaguely aware of Steve puffing up in defense.

“I already, told you, dad, he-”

Billy waves him away.

“It’s fine.” He mutters, before looking Mr. Harrington squarely in the eye. “My dad is the Chief of Police.”

It feels weird- alien on his tongue and in his head. It sets stress loose from its reign, running wildly through his body. It causes his blood to rush too fast, too loud through his veins.

“Oh! Chief-” Mrs. Harrington says, before her mind catches up with her ears. “Uhm… Chief…” Her voice is getting quiet, eyes hooded in confusion as she turns to her husband. “Chief… Hargro…” She’s clearly grasping for straws here. “Chief Hopper? Right?”

She’s speaking in a rather loud whisper, but only to her husband. Mr. Harrington shrugs a bit.

“Yes, ma’am.” Billy speaks up, when he’s finally able to. “My dad is Chief Hopper.”

“Ahh…” Mrs. Harrington breathes, still a little confused and looking slightly unconvinced. She’s giving him a smile as she processes the information before it hits her. Billy sees the realization light up in her eyes. “Oh, the adopted one.”

That whisper is quieter, more secretive… more careful that others won’t hear.

It strikes a chord in his chest. Billy wants to be mad about it. He wants to close himself off from whatever feelings it gives him. He wants to build up some armor… but it just makes his heart sink. He didn’t think that would be the response people would give.

Steve rolls his eyes, but there’s something upset living on his mouth, making it twitch.

Mrs. Harrington gives a careful look to her husband, before turning back to Billy with a pleasant smile. It’s a little hard to find anything false in it, but he can definitely see it. It makes him briefly wonder how much of their life has been hidden behind polite smiles just this side of false.

“That’s very interesting, Billy!” She says, like he’s a toddler that just told her about how he picked up frog collecting- like he’s a child. It’s condescending. It should make Billy angry.

It sinks his heart further.

“It’s not interesting, mom, it’s normal.” Steve hisses under his breath, eyebrows low over his eyes. Billy feels stupid, standing around, letting them talk about him right in front of him.

“Well, yes.” She sniffs haughtily, straightening her back ever so slightly. “Of course it is, it’s…”

Mr. Harrington cuts in. “Chief Hopper is a good man. He does a lot for this town.”

His voice is like that of a robot’s, inflectionless and calculated. Billy doesn’t need to be told about Jim, but he’d be interested to hear Mr. Harrington say more. As far as Billy knows, Hop hates these two.

Mrs. Harrington takes a light breath in, about to say something when her gaze is suddenly locked on something far away, and she’s tapping her husband’s arm incessantly.

“Charles, the Wilson’s just arrived.”

She gives her husband a look that he returns, and then they’re turning to the boys with matching smiles that make them look like they belong on a billboard advertising new homes.

“It was just so lovely finally meeting you, Billy.” Mrs. Harrington says, eyelashes fluttering.

“But we do have some business to attend to.” Mr. Harrington chimes in, allowing his wife to take his arm. They stand together like a shiny puzzle, obviously matching but not worn enough to really fit. “But enjoy yourselves, boys.”

“Yes!” Says Mrs. Harrington again, pleasantly, even though they begin to walk away. They’re floating away gracefully while still talking to the two. “I suggest the deviled eggs over on that table there. Mrs. Carlton finally made them again and I swear they’re to die for.”

They wave politely before rushing off, sending tittering words of hello to everyone they pass by.

Billy watches after them, stunned a bit at their presence and unsure of what to make of everything that just happened. He opts for turning his attention to Steve, who somehow has another mimosa in his hand.

“God.” Steve mutters before downing half in one gulp. “Well, say goodbye to them for the rest of the day.”

Billy’s shocked at the admittance.

“Seriously?”

Steve shrugs with an eye roll as he downs the rest of his drink. He gulps around his answer.

“Probably. Business usually means buttering up a few people for the rest of the party.” Steve sighs. “Trust me, I’ve been left alone at enough of these to know.”

He sets his glass on a passing waiter’s tray.

“So… I did good?” Billy asks, wondering how Steve picks up drinks so easily from those passing trays and wondering still if maybe he can do it or if he needs Steve to do it for him.

Steve is a little ways away, a little distracted if his eyes are anything to go by. Billy pinches his arm back to the present.

“Oh! Yeah, you were perfect. I think you pleased them enough to make them ignore us for the rest of the day.”

Billy feels proud about that.

“So we can go?”

He knows it’s hopeful thinking, but he lets his chest lighten for a second. Steve’s chuckle brings him back to reality.

“Not if you care about me, we can’t. My mom will have a tantrum if we leave before four.”

“Four?” Billy asks incredulously, eyeing more drinks as they walk by.

“Yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s some stupid, unspoken rule.”

Billy sighs, watching all the rich, pretty people around them as they socialize. He’s still itching in his shirt, but a little less so, knowing the worst part is over. It has to be over. He did his job of impressing the parents and now he just has to… be eye candy or whatever. Whatever these rich people want.

“Let’s just hope I don’t run into anyone who wants to talk about how much I’ve grown.” Steve mutters. “C’mon, I wanna find those deviled eggs.”

Billy follows like a puppy.

~~~

It’s…. strange… watching Steve float around from table to table, effectively deflecting people he doesn’t wish to talk to in such a polite and collected way.

Billy was prepared to take the brunt of the conversations, but to his surprise Steve does most of the talking. He schmoozes almost as perfectly as his parents did, giving the same plastic smiles Billy has been watching him give all day, allowing the women to pat his shoulder or grab his arm or tell him how “strong” he is now; how “old” and “mature” and “handsome” he’s gotten.

Something a little sick fills Billy’s stomach, but it’s pushed away by the butterflies… probably more accurately described as something akin to “moths”. Or lightning bugs. Or maybe those big, thick, black flies that buzz louder than they ought to. Yeah, those.

It’s just that every second that passes leaves him out of place. Pushes him further and further to the left of where he should be. Women are laughing and talking with Steve, and Billy really is just the arm candy. He gives them smiles as polite as he can muster. Sometimes they eye him up and down (always getting caught on his bright shorts), and ask who he is, where he’s from… what his father does.

“He’s the Chief of Police, ma’am.”

“Oh!” They say, eyes wide and smiles fallen, before picking them back up and insisting Chief Hopper is a “very kind man” before sauntering away with some excuse of finding a friend, or a drink. Or their husband. Sometimes they have something a little more knowing in their eyes; sometimes their eyes get wide with memories and they look at Billy with blushing faces that aren’t because of his own good looks. Billy’s not an idiot- he’s heard about Hop’s affinity for “getting around” before El came into his life, and he kind of figures that must be what they’re so embarrassed about now. It makes Billy chuckle.

He doesn’t like watching these women touching Steve, though. He’s glad when they turn leering gazes onto him rather than reach out to grab at Steve’s arm.

“Oh, so you’re Billy Hargrove.” One woman, a Mrs. Sadler, says with a weird glint in her eye and irritation spread thin over her voice.

“Yes, ma’am.” Billy says with as smug of a look as he can muster, trying his best not to look as awkward as he feels. “Does my uh- reputation precede me?”

He hates that he falters, but he says it with enough charm that she laughs a shrill sort of thing.

“Oh, yes. You really caught my Addison’s eye when you first moved to town. My lord, you are all she would talk about for at least two weeks.”

Ah, Addie Sadler; the quiet little sophomore girl who stared at Billy every day at lunch from across the cafeteria before getting dared to lay a kiss on Billy at a party. Ever since then she hasn’t so much as made eye contact with him. He’s kind of happy about it- her stares used to weird him out.

“Now I can certainly see why.”

The woman reaches a hand out to touch Billy, but somehow Steve talks their way out of the situation, grabbing hold of Billy first and saying he needs some company to find his parents to “ask them something” but “thanks for the well wishes on college, Mrs. Sadler” and “say hi to Addison and Jacob for me”.

Billy’s so thankful for his boyfriend he could kiss him. Lord does he want to kiss him. Billy’s been trying to scope out the place for the past hour to find a corner they can hide away in.

They end up at the next tent over, where Billy recognizes enough people to know they’ve already talked to them and thus, shouldn’t be bothered.

“Thanks.”

“Course.” Steve says, love in his voice even if he can’t show it physically.

Billy’s itching again, absolutely itching. He feels like there’s ants crawling all up inside of his pretty, new, collared shirt.

He eyes another tray of fruity drinks that passes by them and taps Steve’s shoulder.

“I’ve been trying to get a drink all day, how the fuck do you stop one of those guys?”

Steve laughs.

“You just reach out and grab a glass. Here, what do you want?”

Billy looks around, weighing his options. He’s never tried champagne, but he’s not the biggest fan of orange juice. He thinks there’s someone walking around with sangria but he really doesn’t care for the taste of wine.

Then he sees a couple of men huddled in a corner together, laughing heartily, drinking some beers.

Billy points.

“They’ve got beer, where’d they get beer?”

Steve eyes them curiously. “Oh, you have to ask someone for that. I can- uhh- waiter!”

One of the waiters stops suddenly in his tracks, tilting his head to indicate his attention.

“Can I get a couple of beers, please?”

“Of course, sir.”

He asks about different brands Billy’s never heard of. He assumes they’re probably craft beers. Steve looks to Billy, who probably looks more than a little shocked. He’s never had any kind of craft beer before. They’re expensive, and he just gets what he can from the drug stores. He shrugs.

“Whatever you recommend is fine.” Steve answers, slipping money into the man’s hand and giving another plastic smile before turning to Billy with a simple look. “See?”

“Well la dee da, Mr. Country Club.” Billy says, giving a little bit of a smile back. Steve shoves Billy’s shoulder.

“Shut up. I had to go to enough of these I’ve lost track, I had to learn some things to keep myself sane.”

“It’s just… weird.” Billy admits, leaning against a table behind him that luckily isn’t littered with tiny foods or abandoned glasses of wine. “Seeing you in your… ‘natural habitat’ or whatever.” Billy uses air quotes for good measure, because truthfully, the words don’t seem right.

Steve snorts.

“Yeah, sure, so natural.” He says almost huffily, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just know enough to get by at these things. I hate them. I bet only about 3 people of the dozens here actually give a shit about if I’m going to college or not.”

“That why you’re lying and telling everyone you are?” Billy asks, the smirk on his face masking the worry he feels. Steve sighs.

“Yeah, because they don’t care. Not really.” Steve grabs a tiny biscuit or something as a waiter walks by with it. “They just wanna hear me talk. Seem polite to keep up appearances or whatever.” Steve shoves the food in his mouth with a shrug. “Plus they all got their kids into college. They paid them all off. My parents would kill me if I told people they didn’t pay my way.”

Billy tries to think of something to say, but the waiter is back with the two beers.

“Thank you.” Steve says politely after swallowing. The man bows his head a bit before scurrying off.

“Here ya go, babe.” Steve mumbles the last bit. “I’ll hold the other till you want it.”

“Thanks.” He mumbles back, thinking about how if he’s this uncomfortable now how he can’t imagine what he’d feel like as a kid.

They stand around and talk, Billy taking note of how anxious Steve seems to be now that he can’t pick up another fruity drink being paraded around.

“I think you should slow your roll on the drinks, babe.” Billy says, lips at the tip of the bottle. “Not unless you want me driving your fancy car home.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. I guess.” He sounds bitter. His eyes are shifty, looking at everyone around him, waiting for the next person who’s gonna come after them to start asking questions.

Billy reaches a hand out, time feeling a little sticky in the summer heat as he decides where to put his hand. What he wants to do is grab Steve’s hand and put his other on Steve’s chest, over his heart, and pull him in tight and kiss his nose and be soppy. It’s soppiness that heals Steve faster than anything. Soppiness that gets him all melted and calm.

What he does is grab Steve’s shoulder and squeeze, shake his shoulder a tad till Steve is looking him in the eye. He injects as much love into his gaze as he can, knowing that’s the only place he can really get away with it.

Steve seems to appreciate it. He takes a deep breath and breathes out slowly, albeit a little unevenly.

“Sorry.” Steve says like he’s ashamed. Billy pinches Steve’s shoulder.

“Stop that. This place is shit, I know you think so too.”

Steve nods. “I just… I know I’m different here.” Steve swallows because he’s nervous. “It’s gross but I- I can’t help it. It just comes out. I grew up here, I-”

Steve is reaching up to run his hands through his hair, mussing it up until Billy pinches his shoulder again and slaps his hand away.

“Shut up, you idiot.” Billy’s stern, but not harsh. Steve looks him in the eye again. “The only thing that’s different is you’re not happy. I haven’t seen that famous Harrington smile of yours all day.”

Steve chuckles a bit, but it’s not good enough. Billy reaches out to poke Steve’s side, eliciting a laugh and a noise of indignation.

But there’s the smile.

“Hey, warn a guy.” Billy chastises with a smirk on his face. “You’re gonna blind someone with those.”

Steve laughs, and shoves at Billy’s shoulder again. It’s the only contact they can get without attracting unwanted attention. But it’s not much different from their everyday lives anyway, careful of every touch they give so as not to get anyone suspecting anything. They just enjoy what they can when they get it.

They’re standing there, chuckling lightly with each other, eyes sparkling and bright, when-

When they’re interrupted by the roar of an engine, followed by the shrill sound of La Cucaracha blasting through the air, causing more than a couple of women to shriek and jump.

Everyone in the party turns to the parking lot, where a pale yellow, 1953 Coupe DeVille is currently driving past.

Billy’s heart jumps a bit at seeing the car. He can appreciate a nice car when he sees one.

“Now that guy, knows how to ride in style.” Billy says, arms crossed, looking at the car in appreciation.

When he doesn’t get a response, he looks to his boyfriend, to see his face has fallen in shock.

“Grammy.” He whispers under his breath, so low Billy almost doesn’t hear it.

“Huh?”

Steve blinks.

“It’s… it’s Grammy.” He shakes his head a bit, blinking heavier, coming out of whatever weird memory he’s in. “Uh, my grandma. It’s my grandma.”

Billy’s about as surprised as Steve looks. He signed up for two parents, not a family reunion.

“Your grandma? Drives that?”

Billy hasn’t seen his grandmothers in a while, but he can safely say they never drove anything like… like that.

Steve just nods.

“Yeah… uh. God, they didn’t tell me she was coming, why didn’t they tell me she was coming?” Steve sounds more on the side of shocked than angry.

Billy looks around to find Steve’s parents standing amid a small crowd, looking at the parking lot in what Billy could only describe as “shameful horror”.

He laughs.

“Somethin’ tells me they didn’t know.”

Steve looks over to them, shaking a bit. Billy wants to help. He places a hand on the small of the boy’s back, knowing no one’s paying anything else but the coupe much attention. He leaves it there for a second or two and takes it away just as quickly, but it’s the thought that counts.

Suddenly, Steve’s parents turn towards them, and then they’re gliding towards them with a purpose.

Billy isn’t sure what exactly to do with himself. He feels stupid for thinking it, but he thought he was done. He really thought he was done, but now he’s fidgeting again. Itching in his shirt, itching in his skin, itching itching itching.

“Steven.” Mr. Harrington says by some way of greeting. It’s far more authoritative than before. It almost doesn’t feel like the same man. Steve just nods his response.

“I know.”

There’s a pause. Then:

“Well, we’ll just… we’ll just have to... “ It’s Steve’s mother. She’s obviously shaking with nerves before she turns to Billy with a collected smile. “Billy, I’m so sorry, I’m afraid we’re going to have to… steal Steve away. For just a bit.”

Billy nods, but doesn’t get much of a chance to say anything before Steve’s mother links her arm with her son and the two drag Steve away, leaving Billy there to watch.

Steve shoots an apologetic look back at him.

Billy waves.

He downs the rest of his beer before he realizes that Steve left the second bottle there on the table for him. Billy picks it up and looks for a way to kill time.

He feels immediately untethered. It only takes a few feet between him and Steve for Billy to feel the line connecting them snap, and along with it his sanity in this place. In an instant he feels like a child, lost without his parent. He feels idiotic, bobbing out at sea, an untethered boat floating away from the dock, pushed into vulnerability.

Nervous nervous fucking hell why am I so nervous goddamnit I… I…

He needs to sit.

He mentally debates between staying close enough to Steve just to be able to see him and have comfort, or getting as far away as possible so as not to attract attention to himself from Grandmother Harrington. Or… whatever side she’s from.

He figures the latter is probably better. Maybe if he hides away, acts busy, looks somewhere else… he won’t have to meet her.

Another tent another tent another tent…

Billy wanders out of the tent he’s under and towards another one, before getting caught up in the sun and the comfort it gives him for a second. He lets it burn comfort into his skin.

Standing in the middle of a perfectly manicured field, staring at the patches of well-gardened flowers with something boiling and vile in his chest. Something so deeply uncomfortable and unnatural. Something almost rotten. He thinks of the time and the effort spent on making just these flowers look presentable enough for these rich people. He thinks about the poor men who sit out here and work at maintaining all these stupid plants that these people never come out to appreciate because they don’t go anywhere near the damn sun. Like they’ll melt. Maybe they will.

…

He thinks about how pretty that flower is. That one. With the reddish-purpleish petals. Lots and lots and lots of thin petals. He thinks about Steve. About how the only reason he’s here is because of Steve. About how that’s what makes all of this worth it… Steve.

He feels something bubble up again in his chest. It overpowers the other stuff. It makes him a little less sick.

As he reaches out to pick it, all he can think about are Steve’s eyes. Steve’s skin. How good this flower will look in the pocket of Steve’s stupid little button down.

“What are you doing?”

Billy startles.

As he turns his head to find the voice, he doesn’t expect to have to look down to see a face.

It’s a little girl. Her curls are perfect and pinned away from her face with shiny little things that Billy thinks Max would gag at, no matter her age. Her dress is a pastel blue and just the slightest bit too fancy for what Billy thinks this event is supposed to be. Billy’s still not even sure what this event is supposed to be, truly, but this girl looks like she’s going to church. She has earrings Billy thinks may be her mother’s and a bossy little scowl that’s definitely all her own.

“I said, what are you doing?”

Billy’s still got his hands around the stem of the flower. He plucks it from the bush. The girl gasps.

“You’re not supposed to do that.” She says, matter of factly. Her hands are on her hips. Billy raises his best oh-yeah? eyebrow, paired with a what-are-you-gonna-do-about-it? smirk.

“And who said that?”

“My mother.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I used to try to pick ‘em and my mother said no.”

Billy snickers. “Maybe you should stop listening to your mother, kid.”

Her eyebrows curl in on themselves. “Hey! I’m not a kid. I’m eleven.”

Billy laughs something a little fuller. “Sounds like a kid to me.”

“I’m eleven.” Her hands curl into fists on her hips. “And you’re not supposed to do that.”

She looks pointedly at the flower in Billy’s hand. He follows her gaze to look at it too.

He wants to give it to Steve. He wants to lay it on his ear, tipped under his hair. He wants to tuck it into his shirt pocket.

He can’t do that out in public. Billy twists the flower in thought, mesmerized for a second by the petals spinning in a dizzying pattern. He’s taken out of it in an instant. He decides what to do just as quickly.

“Not even if it’s for you?”

Her eyes light up immediately, glued to the flower like it’s a promise ring or something. Her smile sneaks its way out and something about it makes Billy feel warm. Like when he makes El laugh, or when he makes Max smile and punch him, or when he makes Joyce giggle that happy little giggle where she has to cover her whole face with her hand. He doesn’t know this girl at all, but something about her smile after seeing her scowl at him like that makes him feel like he’s accomplished something. He smirks in some kind of strange triumph.

She takes the flower and holds it close to her, inspecting the petals like she’s doing a quality check.

“I guess that’s okay.” She says into her flower, shrugging little shoulders. Billy laughs a bit, looking back at the flowers and wishing again for a second that he could have given it to Steve instead.

There’s a moment of silence, Billy getting lost in his thoughts of Steve and kids and family and if Steve is done yet-

“Are you famous?”

It’s the girl. Billy looks back down at her.

“Huh?”

“Are you famous?” She enunciates like he’s dumb for being confused. Like what she just asked wasn’t supposed to catch him off guard.

“No. Why would you think that?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs her shoulders again, looking down at her flower with a face scrunched up by the sun. “The only time I see boys with hair as long as yours is when they’re famous.”

“Really?” Billy asks on a scoff. He knows his hair is a little over the top here, but he couldn’t even count on his fingers how many people he saw with mullets back in California; with hair longer than his back in California. There were countless people that had hair that could rival your local hair band. Then again, there are probably no ‘local hair bands’ out in Hawkins.

“Indiana’s pretty boring, huh?” Billy asks.

She shrugs again, picking at something on her flower like she’s bored. “I guess. I dunno.”

Billy scoffs and looks back at the flowers. He briefly wonders what it’s like for the kids who grew up here… who spend their whole lives here. The poor kids who get stuck here. They’re probably the ones who sit around in the parking lot of that drug store on the corner of Hyde.

“What’s your name?” Comes the little voice again. Billy becomes vaguely aware of the awful slow rock in the background. It sounds like something by Paul Simon.

“Billy Hargrove.” Billy licks his teeth around it.

“Ha!” She nearly shrieks. Billy doesn’t get as startled with this one. “So you are famous!”

“I’m not.” He’s definitive about it, but her determined face doesn’t let up.

“Are too.” Her hands are on her hips again, the flower still held gently in her left hand. “My brother used to talk about you all the time. He doesn’t shut up.”

“Really?” That perks Billy’s ears up. His mind flips through all of the faces at his school like a flipbook. “Who’s your brother?”

“Connor.”

“Huh…” There’s only one Connor that Billy can think of: Connor Blake. He sticks his nose up at everyone. Billy can’t say he’s less than curious about whatever that prick would have to say about him. “What’d he say?”

She shrugs again, looking towards the tents with her face still scrunched up in the sun. “Weird stuff. Stuff about your eyes and your muscles and your hair. He’s weird.”

That makes something electric light in Billy’s chest. There’s a full blown cackle brewing in him, but he just lets out a cool chuckle. Connor is a more than decent looking guy. He has a nice nose, for whatever that’s worth, even if his lips are a little non-existent. He’s always come off as the ‘holier-than-thou’ type. Not like Billy is much of one to talk, but still. Something about the boy and his high horse never seemed to lend to any particular gayness in Billy’s eyes. Obviously he pegged him wrong.

“Maybe you’re just not old enough to get it.” Billy says over a smirk.

The girl shrugs again. At this point Billy’s sure her shoulders are going to get caught in those earrings. “I dunno, I’m pretty old. I’m eleven y’know.”

Billy rolls his eyes but there’s still a smirk on his face, albeit a tired one. “Yeah, I know. Where’s your brother now? Did he come?”

Her curls flip around themselves as she shakes her head. “No, he never comes to these because my parents say he gets to pick, but I’m still too young to pick if I wanna go or not.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. But I’m eleven. I should get to pick.”

“Yeah, you should.” Billy really does agree.

“Can you tell my mother that?” She’s looking up at him now, nose all wrinkled up.

“Sorry kid, I think you have to do that for yourself.”

“Olivia!” Comes a shrill voice that Billy wishes wasn’t getting closer. “Stop bothering this young man and come say hi to Mr. and Mrs. Whitman.”

“Mom!” The girl yells back. “Billy says I’m old enough to pick if I wanna come here or not.”

“Billy?” The woman asks, getting closer. Billy turns to greet her. “Billy…” She says quietly, doing her best to place the name right up until she sees his face. “Oh! Well hello there.”

Billy gives a tight, close-lipped smile. The woman fixes her hair where it’s already perfectly piled on top of her head.

“Why, you’re Billy Hargrove, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes yes… everyone’s talking about how Jim Hopper’s son is here today.”

Billy’s confused at that, wondering what everyone’s deal is about him being adopted. His mouth twists up a bit, involuntarily.

“Jim Hopper?” The girl asks. She looks about as confused as Billy feels. “The policeman? He came to our school once. He’s kinda fat to be your da-”

“Olivia!” The woman clicks her tongue, swiping purposelessly at the air in her daughters direction.

“It’s true.” The girl mutters, looking down at her flower and spinning it. Her mother clicks her tongue.

“Oh please.” Her mouth twists in distaste. “And didn’t I tell you not to pick flowers?”

“Billy picked it for me!” The girl says indignantly, crinkling her nose up in defiance now. There’s a very obvious difference.

The mother’s demeanor changes instantly, face smoothing over in understanding as she turns approving eyes in Billy’s direction.

“Oh! Really? Well then, that’s fine.” Her voice is dripping in liquid sugar. She looks like she wants to reach a hand out to touch him, but her daughter is piping up again.

“Hey!” She yells, catching the attention of both of them. Billy’s not religious, but he might want to bless this child. “That’s not fair! Why can he pick flowers but I can’t?”

Her mother looks exhausted. It makes Billy chuckle.

“Because, sweetheart,” She says, the sweetness entirely fake now. It makes Billy taste something bitter. “You’re a lady and he’s a gentleman.”

“And gentlemen get to pick flowers?”

“Yes. For the ladies.”

The girl, Olivia, gives her mother a look like her mother is trying to pull one over on her. She looks down at the flower, and then up to Billy, who gives an unimpressed look matching his unimpressed, single-shouldered shrug.

The girl turns back to her mother.

“That’s dumb.” Olivia states, very matter-of-factly, before walk-skipping away, dress flouncing around her.

Her mother looks beyond exhausted.

“Olivia!” She tuts again, calling after her in her shrill voice before turning back to Billy.

“I’m so sorry about her, Billy. I have to go get her. But it was so nice to meet you!”

And with that, she flutters away, skirt flipping around her calves as she takes tiny steps in her tiny heels along the grass.

Billy chuckles a bit. He eyes the flowers for a second before walking away, deciding against picking another one in favor of finding some kind of food to eat.

He winds up in front of a very large tray of the world’s tiniest sandwiches. He’s immediately irritated by them. He can’t pick one up in a way that feels… manly. He has to pick them up with just his fingertips or else he squishes them.

But they’re made of some kind of surprisingly hearty turkey along with some fancy tasting cheese and a little bit of crispy ultra-green lettuce and the softest white bread Billy’s ever seen… so…

He picks 3 up in one swipe and places them on the nearest empty plate he can find.

They’re disgustingly good. Like, unnaturally good. By his 5th one he wonders if maybe it’s their size that makes them taste so good. They really shouldn’t taste this good.

He nearly forgets his beer in his tiny-sandwich-stupor. He takes a swig as he grabs more tiny sandwiches. He checks his wristwatch (that Steve insisted he wear) as he shoves a sandwich in his mouth.

It’s been about 20 minutes since Steve left to go talk with his grandma.

Billy settles in, slouching over the table a bit.

A woman comes up to politely chat him up, making like she’s bored or like she was sent here on an order or something equally unbelievable. Billy just as politely turns her down.

He checks his watch. About 25 minutes since Steve left.

He takes a pull off his bottle. Turns down another woman coming by feigning extreme interest in the beer Billy’s drinking. She ends up walking away dejectedly with just a couple of sandwiches on her tiny plate.

29 minutes.

He’s on probably his tenth sandwich when a man comes up with a weird glint in his eye. He’s persistent, he’s tall, and worst of all, he’s drunk off his rocker. He leans a hand on the table, right next to where Billy’s leaning on his elbows. Billy leans back in his chair.

The man has a proposition on his tongue, hidden by the slimiest grin Billy’s ever faced.

“Hey there.” His voice is gravely. It grates on Billy’s ears. “I haven’t seen you at one of these before.”

Billy shakes his head and chews on the inside of his cheek.

“Nope. I’m a friend of someone.”

“Ah, you’re the adopted kid.” Billy’s not sure why that’s such a hot-button topic around here. He’s sure that he doesn’t like it, though.

“Yup.”

“Y’know,” the man slurs in what he must think is a hushed tone, leaning down a little further. Billy does all he can not to lean back any further away from the man’s physical advances. “I heard our Chief Jimmy Hopper is a pervert.”

It sets Billy’s skin on fire and absolutely boils his blood. He’s a kettle over the highest heat.

The man starts to laugh a real heavy, guttural laugh. Billy’s seeing red. He takes a deep breath and absent-mindedly plays with one of the fancy napkins on the table.

“You’ve got about 5 seconds to get away from me before that nose of yours gets broken.” Billy keeps his voice strong and flat and as intimidating as possible.

Billy watches in his periphery as the man moves back.

“You… what?”

Billy looks him straight in the eye.

“I didn’t stutter. Get away from me now or you’re gonna end up walking away with a broken nose.”

The man blinks hard twice before his face shifts into anger.

“Is that a threat, son?”

“It’s a promise, sir.” Billy’s face is screwed up in anger, surely red as a brick. His eyes shift over to the man’s wife on the other side of the tent. He knows it’s his wife, because she’s one of the women that came up to Billy and Steve earlier in the day. This man was with her. “Or I could always tell your wife you’re the real pervert.”

“Oh come off it-”

“It’s Marci, right?” Billy asks, leaning over so he can see past the man. He takes a deep breath to make like he’s going to call out-

“Okay, okay!” The man stops him, grabbing his forgotten glass of some dark drink off the table and taking a swig of it before leaving, muttering darkly to himself.

Billy’s disgusted. He checks his watch.

34 minutes.

Billy’s fuming. He shoves a few more sandwiches in his face and gives a mad eye to a woman who approaches him. She gives a kind, nervous smile before grabbing a piece of fruit off the plate and walking away a little quicker than she came, no words exchanged.

38 minutes.

Billy’s tapping his fingers on the table, watching everyone schmooze and laugh their twinkling little laughs and he’s gonna go mad.

A young girl walks up to him. He recognizes her from school.

She opens her mouth to speak, eyelashes fluttering so hard she could cause a hurricane, but Billy cuts her off before she gets a chance.

“No thanks, dollface.”

She looks like she’s been slapped for a second before she recovers and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

“But I haven’t even said anything, yet.” Her voice is as mousy as her features. Billy’s so irritated he can barely see straight.

“Yeah, well you’ve got that look in your eye-”

“What look?”

“And I know you’ve got a boyfriend.”

She swallows and straightens her back out a little bit, shifting on her feet haughtily.

“Well, I could just as well not have one.”

Billy’s stare is poison. He makes sure of it.

“Yeah, and I could just as well tell Trevor that you stuffed your bra just to come over here and talk to me.”

She balks.

Billy doesn’t exactly like saying it. He doesn’t do that shit anymore and he doesn’t like to let people rile him up like this. The words feel gross and heavy on his tongue. He’s just fed up and everyone is bothering him and he feels like he’s been on display since he’s been here and… and… and these stupid tiny sandwiches and-

“Well, those shorts look idiotic on you.” She spits out at him with tight lips, like it’s an insult he actually cares about. She turns quickly on her heels and swishes away purposefully. Billy doesn’t find any atom of his body that cares.

He’s sitting there staring at the sweaty condensation that’s collected on the bottom of his beer bottle, then at the intricate pattern on the fancy napkin, then at the fancy tray holding the sandwiches, then at the face of his borrowed watch.

He’s on the last sandwich on the middle of the tiered tray when he hears someone clear their throat. He rounds on them like a bull, mouth prepping to tell them off… when he sees that soft, chocolate brown hair that (irritatingly) comforts him instantly.

“Whatcha doing, stud?” Steve’s hands are shoved in his pockets and one annoyingly nice eyebrow is raised.

Billy grumbles.

“Eating.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. These sandwiches are stupid by the way.” Billy picks a few up in one hand and flops them down on his plate. “They’re so small. Why are they so small? I hate them.”

“Uh huh. That why you’re eating them all?”

Billy gives Steve a dirty look, and makes it even harsher when he sees the boy smiling at his expense.

“Yes. The sooner I eat them all the sooner I don’t have to look at them anymore.”

Steve laughs and Billy responds to it with a growl.

“You’ve been gone almost an hour.” Billy mumbles, thumbing at the napkin in front of him again.

“You’ve been counting?”

Billy shrugs. He’s not sure what to say, so he figures saying nothing at all is best. He glances at Steve for a second, before deciding he doesn’t wanna see the boy’s smug face.

“And this what you’ve been doing while I was gone? Eating all the sandwiches?” Steve reaches out for one on the bottom tray. Billy watches with rapt attention and wants, impossibly, to grab the boy’s hand and hold it in his own. He feels a little sick to his stomach at the thought, but decides to blame it on how quickly he’s been eating.

“I also picked you a flower.” It’s out of Billy’s mouth before he can think about it.

Steve outright laughs at that, and if Billy’s face turns the same color as that sangria everyone’s drinking, he’ll kill the person who points it out. He slouches down a little further, tearing slightly at the napkin.

“You did what?”

“I picked a fucking flower for you, alright?” Billy hisses, looking his boyfriend straight in the eye this time. He’s even more mad at what he sees, which is the softest expression to ever grace this boy’s stupidly pretty face. God he wants to deck him. If he wasn’t so in love with those dumb doe eyes and that idiotic pink mouth… and his soft heart… he would really deck him.

Steve’s smile is melting Billy into a puddle.

“Really?” Steve asks on a whisper. It makes Billy itch in his skin. He looks back down at the napkin he’s slowly tearing to pieces. “Well, where is it, then?”

Billy nods his head in the direction he saw the girl last. “I gave it to a girl.”

“You gave it to a girl?”

Billy smirks at the jealousy he hears in Steve’s voice. He feels even better when he looks up and swears he sees green on the boy’s face.

“Little Olivia Blake.” He says with a smug grin. Steve visibly relaxes before laughing in on himself. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just funny you picked her.” Steve says, grabbing a few grapes from the top tier of the tray. “They’re close family friends. Her parents always joked that if they ever had a daughter, they would marry her off to me.” Steve rolls his eyes at the statement, but he’s got a fond smile on his face that twists Billy’s stomach up.

“Why would they say that?”

“They’re nutty. They own a big department store a couple of towns over, but they like to live here because it’s quiet or something. I dunno. My parents used to joke that it’d be a ‘good move’ to merge our families together. We’ve got a running gag that Olivia and I are ‘betrothed’.” Steve pops a couple of grapes in his mouth. “She gets a real kick out of it.”

“Hm.” Billy grunts, spinning his beer bottle around on itself where it sits on the table, making the tablecloth wet underneath it. A thought hits him with a smirk. “Hey, did you know Connor Blake wants to fuck me?”

“What? Connor Blake? What makes you say that?”

“Your little fiance told me he used to talk about my muscles all the time.”

Billy looks up at Steve through his lashes with a sly grin to see Steve’s face flushed red. There’s a second or two of silence between them, something light and electric in the air before they melt into helpless giggles, both dropping their heads and shaking them in disbelief. It’s a good couple of minutes of laughter between the two, and it’s the happiest Billy has felt all day.

When it’s over, Steve finally sits down.

“So uh… your grandma?” Billy asks, half his napkin torn into ribbons.

Steve nods like it’s an answer, before he seems to remember his words.

“Yeah, she wants to meet you. My mom accidentally let it slip that one of my friends is here. I think she’s kind of drunk.”

Billy’s heart takes off running, beating wildly like a bird in a cage. Most of his napkin is in shreds now. He watches Steve for a bit and notices that the boy seems just as nervous as he is… fumbling with his fingers and biting at his lip.

“So… I have to go over there?” Billy asks. Steve shakes his head.

“No, she said she’d come find us. She had to talk to someone else first.” Steve’s tapping his fingers on the table and it’s rapping on Billy’s head at the same tempo.

“Is there uh… anything I need to know about her? Before I meet her?”

Steve sighs a very tired sigh, but at least his tapping stops.

“Yeah I mean… she’s a little… crazy?” Steve says, biting at the corner of his bottom lip and rolling a grape around on a napkin. His posture is hunched and small. His eyes flicker on everything near his hands and back again. He’s nervous. It’s freaking Billy out.

He doesn’t say anything other than that. Billy figures he has to take the non-existent bait.

“Her car is pretty killer.” He says, sitting up from where he himself was slouched and leaning over the table, both arms folded as support in front of him.

Steve snorts.

“Yeah well, funny you say that…” Steve says, popping the grape in his mouth when he seems to be done uselessly playing with it. “She bought it after my grandpa passed away.”

He pauses again, for a little too long. Billy’s jumping to fill the silence with something.

“That’s not weird.”

Steve snorts again, grabbing more tiny fruits off the tray.

“ Well there was this big rumor that she killed him for his money so… she thought it was funny and wanted to play into it or something.” He eats a little piece of cantaloupe and Billy tries very hard to understand what any of Steve’s words mean. “I mean obviously she didn’t do it but, she thought other people didn’t need to know that.”

Billy’s mad at the pause now, moving to sit forward still, waiting impatiently for the end of the story.

Steve just shakes his head at his fruit with some weirdly disapproving face.

“You’re serious?”

Steve laughs a tired laugh.

“Yeah. I told you, she’s nutty. She’s also like, super into going to church. She started getting extra involved because her neighbor accused her of being friends with Satan or something? She’s really old fashioned though and has all these awful thoughts about poor people and she likes to rile people up for no reason. And she’s not very… motherly.”

Steve’s a little out of breath. Billy wants nothing more than to hold his hand.

“What side of the family is she from?”

“My mom’s side.” Steve’s a little quieter now, heavily mesmerized with the fruit in front of him. “My mom hates her. I can tell.”

Billy knows Steve’s relationship with his parents isn’t exactly cherries and ice cream, but… seeing your parents get so upset is emotionally draining. He’s felt something like that before. He used to get blamed when members of the family would reach out to Neil. It was stupid and it made Billy grow to resent any time the phone ringed.

He reaches his hand out, linking just his pinky with Steve’s restlessly tapping one. It’s a small gesture, hidden well between the tray of food and the centerpiece on the table.

Steve’s body visibly melts out of its stressed out state. When he looks up at Billy, it’s with that appreciation in his eyes that makes Billy want to kiss him harshly to get him to stop. Billy has to look away, but he grabs on tighter with his pinky and hopes with his heart to make this the least painful experience possible.

“Steven!”

Steve jumps.

He jumps nearly out of his skin and hits his knee on the table in response. He scrambles out of his seat, knocking a couple of grapes off the top tier of the tray when his hand hits it in his hurry to unlink himself with Billy, even that slightest bit.

“Steven did you have to wander off so far away?” She accuses, voice a little young on Billy’s ears for what he would expect of a grandmother. Billy feels glued to his chair, a little out of breath from the sudden fracture of the moment he was just in. Steve’s back is covering the woman from Billy’s view.

“Sorry. Hi Grammy.”

Billy hears her tut. “Stop that, we already said hello to each other. Don’t waste our time.”

“Sorry.” Steve mumbles, fingers fidgeting restlessly where he has them hidden behind his back.

Billy watches a hand grip Steve’s right arm, nails manicured just as perfectly as Mrs. Harrington’s were, but a deep red that come to a bit more of a point than Steve’s mother’s. She has rings on all fingers, each different sizes with different shiny stones embedded in them. She grips rather tight, and Billy watches Steve lean down to give one of those weird side kisses everyone has seemed to do today when they recognize someone. It’s over quick enough that Billy doesn’t get a good look at her face.

“Where’s your friend, Steven? I came over here for him, didn’t I?”

Billy’s heart jumpstarts like a car.

“Oh, yeah, Grammy, this is my friend Billy.”

Steve opens his posture up to Billy sitting behind him. He figures this is the time he should stand up.

As he does, he finds himself standing in front of a short woman. She’s got her hair smoothly styled in something Billy thinks would look fashionable for the 1950’s or 60’s rather than the 80’s. Her earrings dangle and sparkle almost blindingly, even though they’re nearly hidden from the rays of the sun. Her makeup is fairly minimal and her eyes are youthful but knowing, piercing Billy’s mind in a way that makes him feel stuck and helpless. Like she’s a black widow preying on him and his weaknesses.

She has a fur wrapped around her. Billy assumes it’s mink because that’s all he knows about furs. Her bag is rather large and unmistakably fashionable. Billy doesn’t want to stare for too long, but he swears something is moving from inside of it.

“Billy, this is my Grammy Genevieve.”

She reaches one of her manicured hands out. Billy accepts it, her hand a lot younger looking than Billy was expecting, but still showing age in a way that Mrs. Harrinton’s didn’t. When Billy leans down and gives it a kiss, it’s on instinct rather than decision.

He straightens back out to find her eyeing him curiously. Billy holds her gaze, fearful this is some test he needs to pass. Her grip gets tighter and tighter.

A few moments go by before he’s released from her grip and being given an approving look.

“Well isn’t he just as handsome as the day is long?”

Steve gives a grateful smile for a second before training his face back into something blank. When she moves to sit, both Billy and Steve go to hold the chair out.

Steve’s hand gets hit.

“Stop, let your handsome little friend here do it.”

Steve sits down with a muted nod, but he keeps his back held straight.

After Billy sits down, in a whirlwind of thoughts that he can’t pin down, he comes back to reality to find Steve’s grandma mumbling into her bag.

“What is it? What do you need?” She asks, reaching a hand in to… stroke something? It looks like she’s stroking something. “Do you need food? Water?”

Billy looks to Steve with a look he’s trying his best to keep away from ‘bewildered’, but he shouldn’t be blamed if it gets there. Steve’s still got his back rod straight, but his eyes are tired and he’s idly playing with a grape again.

“Stop fidgeting.” She chastises, again hitting the top of Steve’s hand. Steve quickly shoots his hand into his lap, nodding.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just do it.”

Steve nods, but Billy notices another apology on his lips. Billy matches Steve’s posture, back up straight, but he’s abusing the inside of his lip in his nervousness. Something about this woman freaks him out a little more than he thinks she ought to.

“Steven, get me some water, will you?”

Steve nods and steps away, leaving Billy there with the woman and her moving bag that Billy really can’t take his eyes off of. It looks like it’s breathing and Billy’s waiting for a snake to slither out or something.

“So, William.” Grandma Genevieve starts, still stroking the inside of her bag like it’s a normal gesture. She doesn’t continue what she’s saying until Billy looks up at her, making him realize she’s referring to him. Billy hasn’t been called William in… he’s not even sure he could count how long it’s been. “How are you in school?”

Horrible. My teachers hate me. They give me bad grades for no reason. I have to get my dad to rough them up to treat me fairly-

“Fine.” He lies, tongue heavy in his mouth. “Thanks.” He tacks on quickly when her eyes don’t let up.

She seems satisfied with the thank you, but she’s not letting up.

“Are you going to college when you graduate?”

No because there’s no point. Why would I? They’re just going to drain all the money I don’t have and it’s not like I have enough potential to actually make it there, let alone make it through-

“I don’t graduate until next year.” Billy offers.

“That’s not what I asked.” She stands firm, fixing him with a look that makes him want to apologize, too.

“Uhm-”

“Don’t stutter. Speak clearly.”

“No.” He says quickly and honestly. He can’t lie with her looking at him like that. He feels like he’s been cornered.

She lifts a single eyebrow, the look in her eyes entirely disapproving.

“Hmph.” She says, looking down into her purse like he isn’t worth looking at. It makes his chest boil with something less than anger; something that makes him want to apologize again. “That’s a little foolish. What do you plan on doing?”

Billy doesn’t even fully register the insult of being called foolish.

“I don’t need college to go into a trade.”

“What trade?” She asks, voice dripping with what Billy thinks must be venom. He’s more than half expecting that snake to come out soon.

“Auto Body work. Mechanic work.” Billy speaks in stuccatto. He really can’t help it. “I like cars.”

She looks back up at him, eyeing him up and down in the most brutal evaluation Billy thinks he’s ever been given. He feels frightened in a way that feels entirely new.

It’s a few moments of that- a few too many moments.

“Hmph.” She huffs out again. “I see.”

She’s still pinning him down with a stare, but after a few more seconds of silent judgement, it’s over. Her gaze is a little softer at the end, but it may be a trick of the light. Billy’s just glad it’s over.

Steve is speaking before Billy even notices his presence.

“Here you go, Grammy.”

“Thank you, Steven.” She says, taking hold of the clear bowl holding water inside of it. She places it in front of her and moves her bag closer to the edge of her lap, just resting on her knees.

Steve sits and sighs a bit, getting Billy’s attention. His eyes are apologetic and his mouth twists up in a way that lets Billy know he’s asking if he’s okay. Billy nods, eyebrows furrowing a little to prove it. His heart is beating wildly, but he’s sure Steve can probably tell.

In the corner of his eye, something flesh colored and… rat like slowly rises out of the woman’s purse.

He snaps his head towards it, nearly jumping.

It’s… it’s a cat. It’s a naked cat.

It leans forward, slowly and gracefully, to lick up the water in front of it.

“There you go, Cleo.” The woman mumbles, stroking the cat’s head once again. It gives a croaky meow as a response in between it’s licks.

Billy can’t stop staring. He’s never in his life seen a naked cat before. It has wrinkles and folds that go on forever.

Why does she carry this thing in her bag-?

“So William,” The woman says diplomatically, again not continuing until Billy gives her his undivided attention. “Are you the reason my grandson looks like a beatnik?”

“Grammy-”

“Enough, Steven, I wasn’t speaking to you.”

Steve hangs his head, looking to the left of him, possibly staring out at the flowers.

“I don’t know what you mean, ma’am.”

“Your hair is outrageously long for a young man.” She states plainly, still stroking her cat’s head.

A little fire starts in Billy’s chest.

“I didn’t tell Steve to grow his hair out. If he did it by himself, that’s his business.”

Steve’s head whips around so quickly Billy’s sure his neck must be sore, but Billy doesn’t break eye contact with the woman.

She’s eyeing him harshly again, mouth twisted up like she’s tasted something bitter. They stare at each other for a few moments, but there’s a lot less fear in Billy’s chest now. He’s right and he knows it. He shouldn’t have to sugar coat things for this woman who obviously doesn’t sugar coat things back.

The distaste on her lips twists into a smirk, Billy’s sure of it. He doesn’t get too hopeful though. She looks back down at her cat.

“Hmph. Alright.”

She doesn’t say anything after that. Billy’s not sure why, but he feels pretty safely like he’s won something indescribable.

He’s overwhelmed with the need to take a piss.

“Steve.” Billy says clearly, looking at his boyfriend who’s eyeing him owlishly- like he’s shocked.

“Yeah?” Steve answers, shoulders shaking a bit.

“Can you show me where the bathroom is?” He’s sure to be as concise as possible in front of this woman.

“Yeah. Uhm, excuse us, Grammy.”

She waves a manicured hand in the air.

“You’re free to go.” She says dismissively before mumbling to her cat.

The two boys, for as cool as they typically are, jump out of their chairs a little less than smoothly.

They don’t speak until they get to the building that houses the bathroom.

“Holy shit, Billy, how did you do that?”

They’re out of breath, both from rushing to the building and from the tense exchange they just shared.

“Do what?”

“Get her to like you?”

“She likes me?” Billy tries his hardest not to sound so shocked, but it’s difficult.

“I think so.” Steve admits, looking back at the tents even though they’re much too far away from them to see her from here. “What did you talk about while I was gone?”

Billy catches his breath.

“College. What I’m gonna do after school.”

Billy doesn’t even have to say what she said for Steve to look sorry.

“God. I’m sorry about her.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, she’s so… she’s so harsh.”

“It’s fine, Steve.”

“It’s not, I can’t even imagine what she said-”

“Steve.” Billy grabs Steve’s hands, which are reaching up to rake through his hair again. “Shut up. Stop worrying. It’s fine.”

Steve’s eyes are wide and nervous, his hands shaking slightly, his lips worked over by his teeth.

He melts.

“Yeah… yeah okay.”

“I love you.” Billy mumbles it out before he even thinks about it. They’ve said it a few times before, but every time feels like shots of electricity shooting up through Billy’s bones. It makes Steve start to shake a bit again.

But his eyes soften, the skin around his forehead relaxes, he looks a little more peaceful and that’s what Billy wants.

“I love you too.” Steve whispers.

They separate quickly, even though they’re far away from anyone that could see them. Better safe than sorry.

They take their time to be quiet for a second while they’re both in the bathroom, letting the water of the sink drown out the silence between them. Billy’s mind is swimming with so many things they don’t slot correctly in his mind. He’s trying desperately to make sense of anything through his still-present nerves.

As they’re walking out, he just says the first thing on his mind.

“So are you really gonna marry that little eleven year old?”

It slips out of his mouth like a piece of gum when he tries and fails to blow a bubble. It feels stupid. It’s all he could think to say.

Steve shoves his hands in his pockets but doesn’t say anything for a second. Billy turns to see his mouth moving around a smug little smirk.

“Are you gonna fuck Connor Blake?” Steve asks by way of response. It hits Billy’s chest.

“What? No.” Billy’s adamant, annoyed that he didn’t get an answer. “Why would you ask that?”

Steve shrugs with a chuckle. “I dunno, I thought we were asking stupid questions.”

Billy chest unwinds. He laughs. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Just asking.”

Steve shakes his head, but Billy doesn’t look up to see it.

“How’d you even meet her?”

Billy shrugs. “She came up to me when I was picking a flower for you.”

Steve grabs Billy’s arm to get him to stop. They’re close to the tents now, but the gesture isn’t too suspicious.

“Are you serious about that? Did you actually pick a flower for me?”

Billy’s face blooms red as blood rushes to it. “Yeah, I told you.” He wants to fidget. His shirt feels too tight again.

Steve smiles.

“You’re a sap.”

“Shut up.” Billy hisses, ripping his arm away. His face won’t stop blushing. “I just… I love you.”

Billy’s mumbling now, his head down. Steve clicks his tongue.

“Awww…” Steve coos quietly, and Billy doesn’t need to look at him to see the irritating smirk on his face. He looks up anyway, just to glare at him.

“Whatever. You know I love you. How many times do I have to say it?”

Steve’s smug and Billy swears he could slap that look off his face if he didn’t care about him so much.

“I dunno. A few times a day would be nice.”

Billy rolls his eyes. He’s gonna say something, but suddenly there’s a synth song overtaking the previous synth song. Steve gasps.

“I love this song!” He hits Billy’s arm.

“All this music is awful-”

“Shut up!” Steve hits Billy’s arm again. “This song is good!”

Billy listens a little closer to the rhythm of the synth. It sounds like “Is This Love” by Survivor. Joyce likes to listen to this song with Hop sometimes when it comes on the radio. It’s kind of gross, honestly.

“Aw,” Steve coos again, watching the pretty little fancy couples on the make-shift dance floor in between two of the tents, out in the sun. “I wish we could dance. Is that stupid? That’s stupid. Sorry-”

Billy rolls his eyes as his boyfriend babbles next to him. He does a quick scan of what they can see, and decides something without much thought. Maybe it’s the singing that picks up that pushes Billy’s heart.

~I’ve heard talk of blind devotion…~

“Go ask Olivia.”

Steve turns with confused but earnest eyes.

“Huh?”

“Go ask Olivia to dance.”

“But why-?”

“Just go. You’ll see why.”

~Faithful to the bitter end…~

Steve still looks confused, but Billy shoves into his shoulder to get him going.

“Go! Trust me.”

Steve eyes him still, but he goes to find Olivia, who’s off sulking in a chair in the corner of one of the canopy-tents.

Billy watches Steve walk away fondly before taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. He takes a few breaths as he walks towards his target, psyching himself up, striking up his confidence…

“Grandma Genevieve?” Billy asks, making sure his voice is clear and free of any shakes. She’s sitting alone, thankfully.

She looks up with her piercing eyes, an eyebrow raised. That’s all she gives him.

“May I have this dance?”

Her clear eyes pierce him for a second, the song striking Billy in the chest, making him feel vulnerable.

She looks down at the cat still in her lap, before looking back up at Billy.

“Please?” He asks, not taking his eyes off of hers, even if he wants to know where Steve is and how far he’s gotten at convincing the other girl to follow him to the dance floor.

There’s another beat of silence, another line of the song hitting Billy hard, before she gives a smirk that lets him know maybe she really does like him.

She takes his hand and stands, before slipping her bag off her shoulder and shoving it into the chest of a free-handed waiter walking by.

“Watch my child Cleo for me.” She states plainly, like it’s not a request. The young waiter’s eyes go wide as the cat peeks it’s head out and croaks a meow in his face. “If anything happens to her, you’ll be fired by the end of the day.”

She says it with a smile before Billy escorts her to the dance floor.

He turns his head and immediately sees Steve walking next to him, being pulled onto the dance floor by Olivia.

~I need to prove to myself this is more than a crush…~

The two boys lock eyes, Steve laughing a bit, Billy smiling easily.

~Can you convince me it’s not just a physical rush…~

Billy grabs Grandma Genevieve’s hands in his, interlocking their fingers, and begins stepping side to side. He watches her face for a second, and sees, surprisingly, something that looks like uncertainty. She’s watching their feet like she’s unsure of what they’re doing.

Billy chuckles a bit. She squeezes his hands so tight they hurt a little bit, and she sends him a glare to match. She must have heard him chuckling.

“Don’t laugh at me.” She chastises, before looking back down at their feet.

Billy keeps stepping side to side along to the beat as he looks up to find Steve, who’s dancing right behind his grandmother and facing Billy. They lock eyes over their partners. They’re swaying almost in time with each other. It’s like they’re dancing with each other.

~Is this love that I’m feeling? Is this love…~

Billy gives a little kissy face in Steve’s direction. Steve rolls his eyes and looks back down at his own partner, who’s currently standing on his feet with her own little ones as they dance.

Billy looks back down at Grandma Genevieve, who’s very clearly struggling.

“You’re doing well.” Billy tries to assure her. Her face twists up.

“I haven’t danced with anyone in a long time.” She admits quietly. Billy’s shocked to hear it.

“Well, there’s not much to it.”

He leads the way, stepping the two of them back and forth to the beat. She seems to relax a bit at the words and it hits Billy’s chest with pride.

There’s a very girlish giggle that snaps Billy back up to Steve, who’s swaying a little more forcefully now with his eleven year old partner in tow. He looks up at Billy and their eyes lock again.

They’re connected in an instant. The distance doesn’t matter.

~Now look me straight in the eye ‘cause tonight is the night…~

Billy’s heart is beating so rapidly he’s worried Grandma Genevieve will hear. Steve is looking at him like he loves him. Like he really loves every bit and piece of him. Like he’ll never have to say it, never have to be asked again, it’s just a known fact of the world now. Steve Harrington is in love with Billy Hargrove and nothing is going to change that fact. It clings them together, to the point that Billy feels like he could be pressed to Steve’s chest right now, even though there’s several feet of distance between them.

~We’ve got to ask each other if the moment is right…~

Billy could melt onto the floor right now in a puddle. He feels ridiculous but he’s fine with that. He’s never been so into someone and he’s fine with that, too. He’s fine if he gets to see Steve’s eyes before he falls flat on his face in love. He’s fine if he gets to see that gorgeous smile forever and ever.

The chorus picks up again, singing loudly as Olivia swings Steve away, spinning them into an uncontrollable circle of smiles and giggles.

~Is this love that I’m feeling?~

The song sings as Steve and Olivia spin in a tornado of pastel colors, storming around the dance floor like a couple of children.

Grandma Genevieve laughs. It catches Billy off guard and makes him tear his face away from Steve and all his beauty.

“Do you wanna spin too?” He asks.

“Spin me and I rip that curly hair of yours out.” She promises, gripping his hands tight again.

The threat of it makes Billy laugh.

They dance out the rest of the song, but after it Grandma Genevieve is tired and Olivia’s mother is chastising her for causing a ruckus.

Billy sits down with Steve’s grandmother for a second, watching Steve intently as he speaks with Olivia.

He laughs as he sees the girl grab the flower Billy picked and give it to Steve, waving the boy down to her level so she can kiss his cheek and run away with a giggling, red face.

Steve watches her, laughing, before looking down at the flower with a kind of intent that Billy can see from yards away.

Grandma Genevieve is still worrying over her cat by the time Steve makes his way over.

“Hi Billy. Hi Grammy.”

“Steven, you made a fool of yourself.” She says immediately, without even looking up at him.

It smacks Billy hard in the chest, and he can only imagine what it must do to Steve. The two boys watch her, shocked at the harsh words.

She looks up at him, a rare smile wide on her face.

“It was rather charming.” She admits. Steve releases a breath, about to say something, before his grandma hits him lightly. “But don’t do it again.”

“Yes, Grammy.” Steve says obediently, with a small, disobedient smile on his face. Billy chuckles a bit at it.

“Well, it’s been a lovely afternoon, but I need to get going.” The woman stands up, accepting Steve’s help as he reaches a hand out to her. Billy stands as she does, and moves next to Steve.

The look she gives the two almost makes him nervous again; it’s harsh and judging and almost dissatisfied.

“Steven.”

“Yes, Grammy?”

She shifts a hard look over at Billy. He does his absolute best to keep her eye contact and stand as straight as possible. It makes him uncomfortable, even with all of the practice he got of standing at attention in his youth.

Her eyes shift back to Steve.

“I like this boy.” She says plainly, and something about it immediately lifts the heaviest weight off of Billy’s chest. “He’s honest and he’s practical and he’s brave. And he’s definitely handsome.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Billy sighs out a bit. She waves a hand dismissively at him, telling him it was unnecessary before she turns back to Steve.

“Tell your mother I need that paperwork in the next 3 days, got it?” She pats Steve’s arm harshly and pulls him in for a light kiss on the cheek before turning to leave without getting a response. Billy’s not sure what she means, but he’s not even going to think about asking.

The two boys stay right where they are, rod straight, watching her walk away. It’s not until she’s a few yards out that they let out a collective breath.

“She likes you.” Steve says with amazement.

“Yeah… Guess so.”

There’s silence between them for a second, some Journey song playing in the background. A slight flash of purple hits Billy’s periphery.

“Hey by the way,” Steve starts, voice playfully wistful. “Thanks for the flower.”

Steve’s got a sly grin on his face. Billy looks over at the purpleish-reddish petals twirling delicately on top of the stem in Steve’s fingertips. The smile he gives in response is involuntary.

“You’re welcome, babe.” He says quietly, chest alight with love and love and a little bit of love and maybe a dash of love... just for good measure.

And if Billy smiles every time he hears “Is This Love” by Survivor from now on… well he doesn’t see a need to explain why.

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fantasy-pens · 4 years

Text

United By Love, Rain And Forgotten Umbrellas

Her eyes as blue as the merciful drops from the heaven. His eyes as green as the happy grass enjoying the heavenly showers. A tale of how forgotten umbrellas in the rain bring together the four lovable sides of the Love Square.

Chapter 4: When Our Paper Boat Floats in the Water of Love

Summary: Love is like a river, a never ending stream. Love is shared by each other, To answer someone's dream. (~~Mon Kolom)

And in the water of this stream my love, our little paper boat floats, capable of braving any heavy rains that may come our way, because it was rain itself that tied together our red strings of fate.

Read on Ao3 here

Read on FFn here

(Kudos to @nyanms for the beautiful art that extremely suits the chapter!)

(Mild swearing has been used here)

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“Will you go to the ice sculpture gallery with me?”

Silence reigned in Miss Bustier’s classroom. A silence so heavy, so dense, you could cut it with a saw.

Such was the silence, that the fifteen children in the room could hear the cars outside on the road honking, the hum of the desktop computer and the soft squeal of someone shifting on the cushion they sat on.

Fourteen pairs of eyes turned to the petite blonde girl in the back. “Sorry,” Rose whispered, shrinking a bit in her seat as Juleka patted her back comfortingly.

The attention shifted back to the front. Specifically, to the two dorks over whose just a friend relationship most of the class had bet nearly three whole months of pocket money.

“Mat do you wean?” Marinette blubbered, her eyes bulging out at how stupid her words really sounded that moment.

The boy smiled. “What do I mean?” he replied, chuckling as the girl felt her cheeks heat up. “Will you go out with me? Like a….uhm, a date? If you want?” His hand reached up behind his neck, a sheepish smile crawling on his face.

Silence again. Well, near silence, considering a brown-haired Italian girl in the back was gritting her teeth too noisily.

Marinette blinked, then blinked again. This must be a dream. It had to be a dream!

Was Adrien Freaking Agreste really asking her out?

Her brain started its quick mathematics (with a speed that she wished she possessed in Ms. Mendeleiev’s pop quizzes). Adrien asking her out = Adrien having feelings for her = 99.54% chance of Adrien eventually falling for her (given her clumsiness might account for the 0.46% uncertainty) = Adrien and her getting married in future = Emma, Hugo, Louis along with her dream house, a cat, NOPE, a hamster being a reality and the cute little hamster would finally get the name she had decided 3 years ago, that was-

“Marinette? Will you?” Coming back to reality, the girl saw the question swimming in Adrien’s eyes.

Oh goodness, it really was happening! Why was it happening? She couldn’t be so lucky. Yeah, there was-

“NO WAY THIS IS HAPPENING!”

Shocked silence. A resounding facepalm. Green eyes clouded with the pain of rejection.

Bluebell eyes bugged out with the realisation that she had just spoken her thoughts out loud at the worst time possible!

Mon Dieu! It is too early to put that 0.46% uncertainty in action!!

Clasping her hands over her mouth, Marinette did her best to undo the blunder, “MEEP! I-I-I did-didn’t me-mean th-that! It wa-”

Her messed up words were drowned out by the class’ sudden uproar.

“Of course you didn’t mean that!”

“No way she just rejected him after all these years!”

“Girl, girl, girl…”

“Marinette, you couldn’t have meant that! Fairy tales aren’t supposed to go like that!”

“Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous! Accept that proposal, Dupain-Cheng, I’m not losing like that!”

“Alya, I won! Now give me my….”

The triumphant voice trailed off as Lila noticed the scathing glares her peers gave her.

Silence reigned in the room again, this time tensed, as the attention shifted back to the front.

Marinette was still freaking out at the stupidest mistake of her entire life when a sigh nudged her back to reality.

Adrien was speaking.

“It is okay, Marinette.” He shrugged.

Okay? Nothing is okay! I messed up big time!

“Adr-Adrien..”

“I get that you do not like me…”

Of course I like you! I have not been romancing all your photos, ads and cutouts for practising Romeo and Juliet!

“...You have told me the same on many occasions…”

Just to prevent you from knowing that I have a universe-sized crush on you! Seriously, I thought about things and I feel. Freaking. James Bond style. Stalkerish. Is that even a thing? And no Alya, you DO NOT GET TO FACEPALM knowing how idiotic things happened between me and Adrien in the wax mueseum!

“It is-isn’t like tha-”

The boy smiled ruefully, “I know you are saying this just to make me feel better. But I am all good! I know you have feelings for Luka…”

Luka? Luka Couffaine? How the hell did he strum his way into this mess?

“...and that he feels the same for you..”

Her eyes bugged out. “WHAT?”

LUKA FEELS THE SAME FOR ME? BU-BUT, IS-ISN’T HE…

“My brother has a boyfriend,” a quiet voice spoke from behind.

EXACTLY! Thanks Jules!

“Oh!” Adrien seemed...surprised. But catching himself, he continued, “Still, I know you see me as just a friend and…”

Just a friend.

Just A friend.

JUST A F...R...I...E...N...D…

Something raged inside Marinette, hearing those Three. Damned. Words. “Oh goodness, I SWEAR on the name of EVERYTHING holy and lovable!” she screamed, shocking everyone in the room. “Fuck this Just a Friend drama and..,” Grabbing a petrified Adrien Agreste by his collar, Marinette kissed him on the lips, pouring out the frustration of all the years into that one sweet gesture.

As she pulled back from the dazed-but-certainly-ecstatic blond, the class erupted into wolf-whistles, cheers of “HELL YEAH! IT HAS BEEN TOO LONG!” and thunderous applause, perfectly masking out the angered string of Italian words being spewed out from an unknown corner.

“So...so I take that, as a yes?” the smirking Agreste asked the now-flustered girl.

“OMG! You guys just made me a fortune! I am going to celebrate! The Adrinette ship is finally sailing!!!” Alya squealed, counting the thick wad of Euros Lila tossed at her, grumbling.

Adrien couldn’t help but laugh as the love of his life hid her flushed face in his jacket.

Three years back, Marinette had caught his attention right from their first interaction. On later thought, he had found the feeling refreshing. The feeling of not being treated as the Adrien Agreste, but just like some random new kid.

Somehow, the clumsy girl who got herself caught in the umbrella had found a special place in his heart. Her opinions, her advice, her happiness, everything, big or small, had mattered to him. He simply had been in denial of his feelings for way too long.

And it was his sheer luck that Marinette waited for him. That even though she had multitudes of people who cared for her and showed their affection for her, she ultimately chose him.

Alya was partially right. Adrinette was finally sailing. But it was not a ship.

No.

Adrinette was a paper boat. Tiny and meagre, yet a true beauty in its own. A paper boat that sailed in the rains. The rains that had brought them together.

Yes. Adrinette was a paper boat that now sailed in the waters of love.

Everything was just purr-fect.

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This is followed by the development of the Ladynoir side of the square in the next chapter, so do make sure to read that if you are following the fic!

With that, Mini Scat!

#adrinette #miraculous fanfic #miraculous love square #mild swearing #marinette being marinette #it finally happened #adrien being oblivious as ever #adrinette kiss happened #alya and the rest of the class being as they are #lila is here for guest appearance

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funny-mlb-screenshots · 5 years

Text

My Favorite ML Fics (With links and descriptions)

One Thing After Another - Marinette notices that, sometimes, Adrien acts a little out of the ordinary--like the time he stood in a cardboard box for no reason, or when he actually hissed at Nino. It's only when she starts to notice the similarities between Adrien and a certain feline that she begins to get suspicious.

Basically, Adrien acts like a cat when he probably shouldn't.

Back to Us - After a reveal so shocking it rocks the core of Paris itself, the villain Hawk Moth is finally defeated...at a great personal cost to heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir. With the city safe, they go their separate ways, returning to the lives they were forced to put on hold since receiving their Miraculous.

Now, seven years later, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is on the rise, studying at the fashion college of her dreams by day, working at her dream internship by afternoon...and occasionally moonlighting as Ladybug by night. This routine is set so firmly in place that, once it's shattered by an old-yet-new enemy, and the reappearances of a cold friend and a hot partner, the whiplash threatens to send Marinette spiraling down into chaos.

As Ladybug, she can do anything...but soon those limits will be tested, whether she is in or out of the costume

Truthful Scars - Adrien Agreste has never been an expert in controlling his emotions. When feelings for his classmate in pigtails begin to arise, he can't stop himself from seeing her any chance he gets—even when wearing a pair of cat ears and a black tail. Although his affections are strong and true, he doesn't exactly know how to deal with them, especially under the watchful eye of his father.

After all, what's a boy to do when he accidentally finds out that the girl he's got a crush on returns his feelings?

[Obsession - Miraculous has unintended side effects. A chance encounter leaves Chat Noir in Marinette's magic hands. Scritch and scratch, this kitty has needs. MariChat.

Glaze - He watched her fade, right before his eyes, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Quiver - Spring in Paris, a time for flowers and love, for fashion and passion. But heated blood can lead to dangerous decisions and Adrien’s about to discover how hard things can be. Hawk Moth is on the horizon. COMPLETE]

Smoulder - Marinette traced her fingers down the smooth lines of the magazine, a blush creeping to her face. It wasn’t just his toned, muscular body that set her aflame, although that was certainly a bonus. It was his eyes. The way his body appeared, languid like a summers day. His body said relax but his eyes said devour. From the pages of the advertisement, Adrien smouldered in a way that he’d never done during any of his other numerous photographs, and yet she was struck with a familiarity that made her skin tingle, made her swallow with sudden and surprising nervousness. She was sure she’d seen that expression somewhere before. A pair of green eyes looking at her like that, with an unknown question in his hungry gaze. She’d seen that smoulder before.

In which Adrien loses a bet and becomes an underwear model, Marinette loses her mind, and the whole fiasco starts a fire which might lead to the pair discovering their identities.

Telltale - It all starts with a simple injury, but slowly Ladybug begins to really see who Chat Noir is, and Adrien begins to see Marinette…

Pick-Up and Chase - After she accidentally trips into Adrien and apologizes about "falling for him," Marinette learns that he's no match for cheesy pick-up lines--whether they were unintended or not. And while she finds it flattering that he turns into a flustered mess with only a few words, Marinette comes to regret making him uncomfortable. That is, until she learns he's Chat Noir. At which point the phrase "just desserts" becomes a permanent fixture in her everyday plans. A story in which Adrien is flustered, Marinette is smooth as glass at dropping lines, and Chat Noir gets the romance he was always asking for--even if he doesn't quite know how to handle it

Won’t Tell a Soul - Nino accidentally runs head long into the biggest most stressful secret he can imagine, but now that he knows the truth about Marinette he is determined to help her in any way he can.

Serendipitous Fate Adrien is excited to reveal his true identity, while Marinette is terrified. But Master Fu says they can't afford to be distant any longer. Chat Noir and Ladybug are meant to work in tandem both in and out of uniform, their strength stemming from the bond created between them. Yet, teenagers are sometimes better at dancing blind than running with wide open eyes, even with the steps laid out before them.

Steps in the path of an expanding world. Apart, they'll flounder. But together, they might just stand a chance.

Anywhere, I wouldve followed you - Indygodusk "Just because you care for something, doesn't mean you get to keep it."

Lately, Marinette's luck has been failing her. No one's guessed her secret identity yet, but after Hawk Moth escalates his attacks, she decides it's time to finally tell Chat Noir. Unfortunately, it's not that easy. To make things worse, her home life is falling apart, college is looming, and she can't keep a boyfriend. Secretly, Marinette's not sure she even wants to be Ladybug anymore.

Adrien's life isn't faring much better, especially after dark secrets about his mother come to light.

Then the unthinkable happens. Afterwards, both Adrien and Marinette have to make their own luck. In the process, they defeat the bad guy and make their dreams come true (even if those dreams weren't what they thought they'd be).

Sting - When Chat Noir inexplicably disappears, leaving Ladybug bee-hind to face Papillon on her own, a new wielder is chosen to keep the akuma from swarming. Ladybug is adamant she doesn’t want another partner buzzing around and why is this new-bee flirting with her?

Meanwhile, Adrien just wishes Ladybug would stop bugging out and listen to him because his bee puns are fuzz-tastic.

The repercussions of the bee are farther reaching than anyone realised.

The Parts of You - “I just…” Her hands migrated from covering her face to clutching her hair. Her ears matched her suit but her eyes were glowing with — what was that? Love? Admiration? His chest tightened. “I can’t talk to him! I always get tongue-tied, or say something stupid, or trip over my own feet. It’s so embarrassing! I mean, I’ve gotten better since we first met, like, we’re actually kind of friends now, but it’s kind of a big leap to go from ‘I can sort of string more than two words together in front of you,’ to ‘Please date me, I love you,’ you know?” His breath hitched at the word “love,” but Ladybug didn’t seem to notice. “Plus, it’s not like we’re super-close or anything. I mean,” she tittered nervously, “we’ve known each other for years, but it’s not like talking to you.”

If words could have killed him he would have been in his grave.

In which Identity Shenanigans™ make everyone's life way harder than it has to be.

Breeze - Marinette sobbed into her hands as she recalled Chloé’s hurtful words, each and every one of them.

“You’re nothing! You’re not even worth yourself, much less your so-called friends! Don’t you see they just hang out with you because they pity you?! You’re worth the dirt under my feet, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. And you have no right to speak to me like that, you pathetic little brat. You don’t even have the right to speak to anyone! Just keep your stupid thoughts and ideas to yourself because nobody wants to hear them!”

After a big fight with Chloé, Marinette finds herself sobbing on her bed. The words hit her deep down. And before she knows it a dark Akuma comes fluttering in, ready to introduce her to Hawkmoth…

Technical Difficulties - “Man,” Nino groans, accepting defeat at last, as he gives the golden elevator doors a vicious, vengeful kick. Just like that, he remembers his present company.

Nino turns chagrined eyes to Ladybug.

“Er. Sorry… Probably shouldn’t take it out on the doors?”

Ladybug doesn’t seem to hear him. She is staring hard at the security camera located in the corner. He’s never seen her so quiet… not that he’s seen much of her, that is. Definitely not this close.

Damn, he can’t help but think. What Adrien wouldn’t give to be here right now.

“I’m sure they’ll fix it soon,” Nino offers tentatively, because it seems like something Adrien might say. Or Ladybug, probably, if she weren’t so distracted.

“They will,” she acknowledges, but her eyes are still pretty far away. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“What?“

Ladybug straightens. She makes a decision; it does really pretty things to her eyes, so Nino doesn’t hear her at first, when she asks him for his hat.

— In which Ladybug gets trapped in an elevator with... Nino. { LoveSquare, brotp!MariNino, all-around-friendship!fic } Prompt:Trapped in an Elevator.

Curiosity and Satisfaction - When Adrien agreed to this line of work, he thought all his focus would be on the job of catching the elusive Lady Luck. It never crossed his mind that someone else would catch his attention.

Turn Loose the Mermaids - Marinette should have dragged him under the water in and feast on his body when she had the chance. Maybe then she wouldn't have been his prisoner. Blasted pirate.

That awkward moment when… - “Marinette wasn’t an idiot. As many precautions as she insisted they take, she knew she and Chat Noir were both going to find out sooner or later. Of course, Marinette assumed that the way they’d found out wasn’t by running right smack into each other and detransforming in front of the other. So of course, in a typical calm and rational manner, they pointed to each other and screamed.”

Because, nine times out of ten, letting the cat out of the bag just ends up being very, very awkward.

Tandem - Two students get carried away in a friendly game of dodge ball.... and two other students get very suspicious

Best Frenemies - Marinette Dupain-Cheng leads a double life. It’s often difficult, but it’s the only way to protect the people she cares about. But when her rival, Chloé Bourgeois, discovers her most closely guarded secret, she finds the two separate aspects of her identity blending together… but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. It can be nice sharing the journey with someone even if it's the last person she ever expected to trust with her secrets.

Chloé Bourgeois leads a double life. It’s often difficult, but it’s the only way to protect the people she cares about. But when her rival, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, discovers her most closely guarded secret, she finds the two separate aspects of her identity blending together… but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. It can be nice sharing the journey with someone even if it's the last person she ever expected to trust with her secrets.

The Date - They had a simple deal: one date. Chat had one date to sweep Ladybug off her feet. If she still didn’t like him in that way at the end of the day, he’d give up his attempts altogether. Ladybug took the deal, knowing that her heart belonged to another.

But we know them too well.

Wherever I Go - Marinette accidentally gives her class the impression that she has a crush on Chat Noir.

Adrien decides it's time to get over Ladybug.

Ne Me Quitte Pas - “This is my umbrella,” Adrien told him, as though he didn't quite believe it and the words would bring some sense to it.

“Even I could have told you that,” the kwami said with a shrug, his focus returning to his meal.

“Why did she keep my umbrella?” he asked, only half-directing the question at Plagg.

The kwami, however, chose to answer anyway. “Well, she is your friend, isn't she?” he asked as he finally gave in and stuffed the cheese in his mouth. He swallowed, closing his eyes in satisfaction. “What's so weird about it?”

Bring Me Home - Everybody deals differently with the consequences of Hawkmoth's defeat.

The day after, Ladybug eagerly awaits her silly kitty, finally ready to hand him her heart and start a new chapter of their story with him. He never shows up.

The day after, Adrien Agreste shuts the whole world out, ashamed of his father's action, while Marinette grows more and more exhausted and depressed as the years go by.

Five years later, can anything really be salvaged out of the remnants of their relationship?

Kitten Therapy - After scoring the highest points in a stress level test at school Marinette and Adrien have to take 'recreational hours' in order to prevent being akumatized. It seems like a long awaited break for them until Ayla hacks into CCTV and discovers …?

Mostly fluff. Especially the kittens.

Eperdument - All the pieces are starting to fit together, as much as Marinette doesn't want them to fit. As much as she desperately fights against seeing the signs, sometimes the cat refuses to stay in the bag.

And sometimes the cat kwami refuses to stay out of her lunch bag.

I Didn’t Want it to be Like This - There was always the possibility that someone would find out. Marinette, Paris’s very own Ladybug, knew that it was a high chance. Eventually someone was going to put two and two together.

The Most Eloquent Reply - Deaf Marinette

MDR - Marinette liked not knowing much about her online friends. With the arrival of a newcomer to their group chat, they suddenly start to believe that she has a crush on herself, no matter how obvious she tries to make it that she likes someone else. AU.

#miraculous ladybug #mlb #ml #miraculous #fanfic #fanfiction

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smeraldos · 5 years

Text

blindside [pt. 3]

truth or lie: you can’t keep a secret.

go back [2] <

from the beginning [1] <<

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genres: angst, romance, simmering suspense

summary: You’re studying at Korea University and working part-time at Mint, Min Yoongi’s assorted art shop. That much Jeongguk knows. What he doesn’t won’t kill him.

hint: two bts members are indirectly mentioned in this chapter…comment if you think you can guess who 👀

a/n: shoutout to worldwide lovely/spicy fic writer @crystaljins for reading my draft! (more a/n at the end)

⌘

Halfway to the barbecue place for her sendoff party, Jiwon had taken a detour, promising you it would be quick. “What are you looking for?” you asked, following her into a clothing boutique.

“This,” she answered, showing you her phone. On her screen was a red puff-sleeved blouse adorned with small flowers.

“That’s cute.“

“I’d hope so,” she replied, flipping through a row of shirts. “It’s for my sister. She’s been whining about how Seoul has a lot more style than Jeonju. I mean, what’s the difference? They look pretty much the same to me.”

“Actually, they’re not,” you pointed out, putting back a red blouse with polka dots. “This is HQ material, of the highest quality.”

“Ah. I’m hopeless when it comes to this stuff.” She moved on to the next rack. “I just told her to study hard.”

“But if you’re getting this, wouldn’t she just bug you to buy something again?”

“That’s why I didn’t tell her. It’s just that…” Her voice trailed off. You turned to see her on tiptoe, straining to reach the blouse that matched what she’d shown you. It was on a higher rack, and because she was short, she could only grasp the hem.

When you tried, you didn’t fare much better.

“Excuse me,” Jiwon called out, catching the attention of a tall employee. “Can you help–”

“How much is this?” A woman farther off cut in, holding out a viridian dress. She soon gathered she’d interrupted Jiwon and apologized. “I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

To Jiwon’s surprise, the employee went to the woman first.

“Wait,” she protested as he walked past. “I–”

“I’m sorry, miss,” he said, barely half as sincere as he should have been. “She called me first, but I’ll get to you right after.”

You both watched him help the woman, who you now noticed was dressed in Hermès, a Chanel bag dangling carelessly off her arm. She was pretty in a haunting way: deliberately thin, more bone than she was skin. It was obvious why the employee had gone over to help her instead of Jiwon, who - despite looking cute in your opinion - didn’t appear wealthy or waiflike.

“Can you believe it?” Your co-worker fumed. “I saw him look at me first, and he–”

She marched over to said employee, but before she could reach him, you caught sight of the shoes on display.

“Hold on,” you said, rushing to grab the tallest, sturdiest pair of heels you could find. When you returned, you placed them in front of her. “Try these.”

“What?”

You met her puzzled look with an arched brow. “Don’t you have a blouse to get?”

⌘

When you and Jiwon arrived at the restaurant, Taehyung held the door open. Min was already inside, waiting in line to claim a number for a table.

91, you read from the slip of paper he flashed upon returning. The last number called had been 80, so you excused yourself to go to the restroom. Jiwon followed suit, but she didn’t go into a stall as you did. Instead, she stood in front of the sinks, gathering her messy curls into a high ponytail.

“So are you seeing someone?” She asked, seemingly out of the blue.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“Well…we’ve known each other for a while, haven’t we? I just never really got to know you.“

Though it was true, she’d never expressed an interest in your life outside of work. Not that you minded – you were trying to keep a low profile, so you hadn’t opened up to her, either.

“I’m not,” you said, stepping out to wash your hands. “I don’t have the time.”

"Then who–”

“Who what?”

“Nevermind.”

Through the mirror, you sent her a long, pointed look until she gave in. "I bumped into a guy on my weekend shift. He said he was looking for you.”

“And you thought he was my boyfriend?”

“It was just a guess. He was wearing that same necklace you have, and I’ve never seen it on anyone else.”

You weren’t wearing yours at the moment, but you knew what she was talking about - the amethyst pendant you wore strung on a thin, silver chain. Its twin was an emerald cut into the silhouette of a dog, the zodiac animal claiming the year of your birth, so you could see why Jiwon had mistaken it for a couple necklace. In truth, it was your brother’s.

You hadn’t seen him in a while, and to be honest, you preferred to keep it that way. Yet as Jiwon described his wiry profile and ready smile, you knew that would no longer be the case.

“Did he say anything else?”

“Just if I could tell you to check your phone. Then he left.” Jiwon turned to you. “So is he a friend? It seems like you know him, and he knows you enough to visit.”

Shrugging, you said, “I knew him since we were kids.”

“And here I thought childhood friendships didn’t last. You guys must be close.”

You hummed. It was as much a yes as it was a no.

⌘

It was late when you returned to your apartment – your small, spartan place on the sixth floor of the complex. Climbing up so many stairs at once was a feat, but you didn’t feel accomplished. All you felt now was burnt out.

You unlocked the door to reveal your sofa, plush and orange, and immediately went to lie down. It was your favorite spot to rest after a long day, and you’d have stayed that way if you hadn’t seen the post-it on your fridge. check lease exp. date, you’d jotted in a hurry. It was sometime this month, but the exact day escaped you.

You got up and went to your room, crouching beside your bed so you could slide a box out from underneath. Inside it were your important files – the last place people would look for valuables was where they normally stashed things that weren’t.

You flipped through papers until you found what you were looking for: a letter, creased, bearing the logo of your residence on its corner.

Hastily, you scanned it for a date. 4/15/17. Not good. That meant you only had a few days to renew your contract or find another place, and with the way your apartment hunt was going, you doubted you’d find a new one soon.

Neither could you afford to pay your bills for the next year.

Not for the first time, you considered applying for other jobs. You’d have to find a way to work around your current ones at Mint and a high-end restaurant, but that wasn’t an issue. You’d done it before.

How long they could keep you afloat was a different matter.

At that moment, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out to see a light blinking purple, a color that belonged to only two of your apps: a fantasy game and a burner app.

You couldn’t remember the last time you played.

As it was, you opened the burner to a new message from Pink Panther. Just two images, to be exact. One was of gleaming red shoes; the other, their price tag.

You looked at the tag first, thinking he’d wanted to draw your attention to it, but the price was nothing special. Standard, considering the luxury brand. It wasn’t until you zoomed in that you noticed an unusually long string of numbers below the barcode.

0b1010111100101011110000000

You knew binary code when you saw it. Pink Panther had made sure of it, although he used it sparingly, and only in subtle hints.

This one translated to 22,960,000. In won, that would be exactly what you needed to cover your security deposit and rent for a year. How he knew was beyond you.

But you could care less. You were desperate, and you needed to respond before the timed message disappeared. And with it, the promise of keeping your home.

where can i get them? You texted back, a veiled reference to the money. As soon as you did, the images vanished.

Nothing. That was all you got in response.

You waited a while, then gave up, resigning yourself to your hapless future when an ellipsis appeared.

💬

Then finally: mirae, my face isn’t a secret. you’ll know where to find me.

...

a/n: hugs and thank you’s to everyone who showed this fic a ‘lil love and/or boosted it! hope you’ve had fun and i’m very sorry to any who were waiting - i had a lot to figure out and i’ll do my best to get the next one out as soon as i can 💜

if you’re wondering where jk is, i really wanted to put him in this part but he’ll appear in the next chapter! thanks for reading and until then 🔍

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook au #bts au #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #jungkook fic #kim taehyung #min yoongi #bts #my fic

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emdythewriter · 5 years

Text

Let me be your shield | chapter five (Elriel)

“Can you hand me the peonies?”

“Which ones are those?”

“The ones your about to step on!” Elain shrieked halting her bodyguard in his place as he turned to see the flowers that were dangerously close to his feet. They hadn’t taken as long as Azriel had expected at the store seeing as she already seemed to have an idea of what she wanted the garden to look like. He picked up the container of peonies and handed them to her, then moved away from the other plants she had yet to put in soil.

Azriel found an empty patch of grass that he chose to sit down in, watching Elain get her hands dirty. She looked blissfully happy, like she was blocking out the rest of the world and only focusing on the flowers she was making a home for. She looked like she had found something good in the darkness. His phone buzzed in the pocket of his jeans.

I need you to come to the office.

The text was from Rhys who sounded like he was trying to be professional. Something was wrong Az thought as he read the text once more before typing a response.

Everything okay?

I’m trying to save your ass so please listen to me for once.

I’m not Cassian.

Just get here.

I’ll leave now.

“Everything okay?” Elain asked having noticed his mood shift. All day Azriel had been smiling and laughing as she shopped and rambled about her passion. Now he was frowning and looking down at his phone, therefore she knew something had to be wrong.

“Rhys just needs me to come to the office,” her bodyguard said as he stood up, brushing the grass and dirt his jeans had collected from sitting on the ground.

“Right now?” Elain said getting up as well. She brushed the dirt from her hands onto her apron though there was still dirt on her face, which caused Azriel to smile.

“I won’t be long and you can just call if you need me,” he said before opening the back gate and heading for the SUV he kept parked out front. The office was towards the center of the city whereas the townhouse Elain lived in was on the outskirts. He knew it would be awhile before he was back and she probably did too, but neither had chosen to acknowledge the fact that he was lying.

The bad part about the distance between each location was that Azriel had plenty of time to think over what this could possibly be about. It could be as simple as Rhys wanting to catch up with his brother, but he highly doubted that. It could be as bad as him being reassigned to another sister’s detail, most likely Feyre if it was Rhys’s choice. Azriel hoped that wasn’t the option though, he didn’t want to say goodbye to Elain.

When he made it to the city there was an open spot right in front of the building, so he took it. Easily Azriel parked the SUV and then headed in through the rotating glass door. The elevator was just opening when he made it there, finding his fit in the crowd he pressed the button for the floor Rhys’s office was located on.

He didn’t bother knocking when he made it to the office, if Az ended up walking in on something it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Luckily for him he only found Rhys and Cassian talking. The conversation halted immediately when his brothers noticed him in the doorway.

“Did you call me here just to chat?” Azriel asked as he entered the room and closed the door behind him. He took up the seat next to Cassian, one of the leather chairs Rhys had placed in front of his wooden desk that he currently sat behind. The office was nice, filled with bookcases on both sides and a giant open window behind the desk, the kind you see in movies. Feyre had definitely decorated the space.

“More like to lecture you,” Cassian said.

“Lecture me?” Azriel wasn’t aware that he had done anything to be lectured about.

“Lucien Vanserra came to my office this morning,” Rhys started causing Azriel to roll his eyes. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was headed now. Lucien knew the three brothers personally, having all grown up and gone to the same boarding school together. They all tolerated each other but Lucien always had it out for Azriel for reasons still unknown.

“What does he want this time?” he asked leaning back in his chair and propping his feet out in front of him, getting comfortable.

“He said you’re getting too close to Elain,” Rhys said leaning back in his own chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Isn’t that the point of my job?” Azriel asked. If Lucien wanted to deal with the consequences of him not protecting Elain than he didn’t understand the threat on his girlfriend’s family all too well.

“Lucien says it’s to the point of being inappropriate,” Cassian added using air quotation marks around the word inappropriate, telling Azriel neither of his brothers believed the other male was telling the truth. In fact Az had a feeling Lucien was just jealous for whatever twisted reason.

“I thought he left this morning anyways,” he said remembering how Elain had told him about her boyfriend’s text this morning.

“Either he lied or came to me before his flight left,” Rhys answered. “I’m not keeping tabs on the guy.”

“Sometimes I wish you would,” Cassian inputted. “If you had we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“What mess is that exactly?” Azriel asked realizing he still wasn’t sure why he had been called here.

“Lucien believes you’re trying to sleep with Elain.” He busted out laughing at Rhys’s words. They weren’t laughing so he knew it was true, which only seemed to make Az laugh harder. It was the most comical thing he had ever heard, and to think that was the whole reason for this meeting in the first place. Azriel had nothing to worry about after all.

“That’s stupid,” he said when he fianlly caught his breath. “We’re friends.”

“Lucien doesn’t believe that,” Cassian said.

“Tell him to ask Elain before he goes running if he doesn’t believe me, which he won’t,” Azriel replied.

“What do you mean?” Rhys asked noticing the way his brother had phrased his words.

“Lucien left Elain a text telling her that he would be gone a few days on a last minute business trip or whatever,” Az explained crossing his arms over his chest. “She said it sounded like he was running from her.”

“Idiot,” Cassian scoffed. “You don’t put distance between you when you’re having trouble that just makes things worse.” Both of his brothers knew he was speaking from experience. At the start of their relationship Cassian had made a mistake and he thought some time apart would make things better, in the end he almost lost Nesta to a darkness she was starting to call friend. He hadn’t made the same choice since.

“He’s going to lose her,” Rhys added an understanding shadowing his eyes. He had almost lost Feyre to another man, Lucien’s best friend.

“I’ll keep some distance if that’s what he wants but it’s up to him to do the rest,” Azriel said. Rhys nodded and with that he left the office, closing the door behind him on his way out. When he made it to his SUV he pulled out his phone and texted Elain.

I’m going to have to take care of a few things, call me if you need me.

Be safe :)

Azriel smiled down at the text on his phone. He shook his head and set it in the cupholder before pulling out of the space and onto the busy streets. He headed in the direction of a place he hadn’t been in some time, a place he almost thought he would never go back to.

___

Elain instantly felt sad when she read the text Azriel had sent her. She didn’t know what it was but something bugged her about the text, about the whole reason he had to go into the office in the first place. She didn’t like that feeling.

Now she was alone in the townhouse. Lucien was away working, Azriel was running errands, Feyre was at the studio teaching a class, and she had a feeling Nesta too entrapped in a book to pay attention to her phone. Elain wished at that moment more than anything that she was better at making friends. Wished that she was normal and not famous because of her father, it would make it easier for her to make true friends.

Elain had tried making friends throughout school but each time they always backstabbed her. Each one wanted something from her, the popularity, the lead role in her father's next movie, the boy that Elain was currently crushing on. There was a never ending list.

She decided to take a shower and clean up from gardening. She started stripping the moment she entered her bedroom, letting her apron, jeans and shirt fall into a heap on the floor. When she got to the bathroom she turned on the water to warm, because no one can stand a cold shower, and took her underwear off before stepping in.

Showering allowed Elain to think and right now she was thinking off things she could do to pass the time. She thought of going out but she didn’t want to wait for a temp bodyguard, guess that also meant she was ordering in for dinner. She thought about watching a movie or starting a new show, but she didn’t watch enough TV to know what was good. She was out of ideas.

When Elain was thoroughly cleaned she rinsed off and headed for her closet to change. She pulled on an old shirt of Lucien’s that was a simple green and then a pair of black pajama shorts. She pulled her hair up to keep it out of her face and because she didn’t feel like brushing the tangles out of it right now.

She thought about checking in with Nuala and Cerridwen while she was in the showere thinking, but they had just gotten back in town and most likely wanted to catch up with their families. Elain grabbed a book off the shelf in her bedroom and curled up on the window seat. The book was one Nesta had given her a few months ago but she hadn’t gotten around to reading it yet. It was a romance of course because her sister loved the genre. It was about a pair of friends that had been denying their feelings for the other since the day they met and now were starting to step over that line.

Elain had read a good bit by the time her phone started ringing. Having left it on the bed she was forced to save her place and get up to answer it. Not looking at the caller ID she answered it on the third ring “hello?”

“Hey babe,” Lucien. Elain wasn’t in the brightest of moods when it came to her boyfriend and his behavior recently. She didn’t hang up just yet though, hoping that he was calling to apologize.

“I’m mad at you,” she said in response to his greeting. There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line, like he expected this reaction. And what girlfriend wouldn’t react the same way she was?

“I’m sorry, I was going to tell you in person but it was last minute and I didn’t want to wake you up,” of course he was going to use that excuse.

“I don’t accept your apology,” Elain said, walking around the bedroom they shared as she waited for him to form a new excuse, or better apology.

“I’m not surprised you are an Archeron.” Over the years her family had gained the reputation for being thick skinned and considering the things they had gone through in the public eye, Elain could see why.

“I would’ve been fine with you waking me up.”

“I know and I promise to make it up to you when I get home.”

“Only a few days right?”

“Yes, I’ll be home before you know it.” Elain thought is over. What could she make Lucien do as an apology? He was in the palm of her hand and she would use that to her advantage as much as possible.

“We’re going on a date when you get back, a nice one.” Last time they had gone out Lucien took her to some promotion event to meet some guy he hoped to work with in the future. Dinner had been drive thru at some fast food chain.

“Wherever you want to go,” Lucien promised and Elain knew he was sincere based off the tone of his voice.

“I want to go dancing too,” she added before she could talk herself out of the idea once again. She had wanted to go to the dance club that opened in the city since they had the grand opening a few months back. Feyre was always telling her how wonderful it was and how much she would love it. Now was the time to ask because Lucien couldn’t say no.

“Dancing?” Lucien said curiously and with a hint of teasing. “Haven’t heard that one before.”

“Well I really want to go and you said anything I want.” He chuckled on the other line and Elain knew he was smiling, just the thought made her smile as well. She loved the fact she could make the people she cared about and loved happy just like they did her.

“It’s a date,” Lucien said and she smiled even brighter. Finally after so long they were doing something they both wanted, it was starting to feel like the old days before the media interfered.

“How has your trip been so far,” Elain asked after concluding her little celebration. She walked over to the window seat and took her place up once more.

“Just a bunch of meetings today nothing too interesting,” Lucien said and she knew there was a shrug paired with the words.

“There’s got to be.” Elain teased but he hardly ever shared the juicy stuff with her, though she wished he would.

“I’m sure your day was far more interesting.” She sighed knowing that was as far as she was getting with Lucien about his day. He hated talking about himself.

“I started a garden in the backyard,” she told him smiling at the fun her and Azriel had putting it together. She should check in on him before going to bed. “I also started that book Nesta gave me months ago.”

“Which one?” Lucien asked knowing that Elain had been given a stack of books by her sister. Usually every month there was a new pile of books she had to find a home for.

“It’s about to best friends finally acknowledging their feelings for the other, it’s good so far.”

“If Nesta gave it to you I have no doubt.” Her sister was very good at picking out the right books. She had picked out a few for Lucien to read while he was on long flights. “I have to go babe I have an early day tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Elain said slightly disappointed.

“I love you.”

“Love you too,” and then they both hung up at the same time. Elain stared at her phone for a moment before clicking on the messaging app. She pulled up Azriel’s contact and typed a simple and to the point text.

Finish all your errands?

As she tucked herself into bed Elain’s phone buzzed on her nightstand. It was Az. Turning off her lamp she picked up the device and read the new message.

Yes, you need anything?

Nope just wanted to check in. my day’s been boring without you.

Was that flirting? Elain thought it over but stopped when her phone buzzed in her hand again. They were friends so it shouldn’t matter on how she had phrased the text, as long as Lucien didn’t see it.

Sorry to hear that. We can do something fun tomorrow.

You picking?

It would be my turn since gardening was yours.

So was the Farmers market

Guess I have a few events to plan.

I’ll let you get to it then. Goodnight Azriel.

Goodnight Elain.

With that she curled up under her covers and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Tag list:

@maastrash @mis-lil-red @poisonous00 @ifangirlninja @nightcourtstarlight @sleeping-and-books @liquifyme @azriels-forgotten-shadow @allaboutthosegenes @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary @court-of-fuck-me-daddy @bookdork6 @fireheart-of-your-dreams @schmlip-scribble @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius @erinmau @cc-psm @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @kiss-my-mass @inrealliampain @fourshizzle149 @propagandaprincess

(Let me know if you want to be tagged!)

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blueplanettrash · 5 years

Text

Eastside

This a story suggested by @2windowpanes where Lance and Keith met earlier in their lives and didn’t realise who they were until they did a mind meld exercise. I’m gonna have a few parts after as well. I hope everyone enjoys! 💙

They met one year at summer camp. They had a crush on the same guy and caught each other staring at him. At first, they fought for his attention and fought each other in the process. When they both realized that he was dumb as a stick and didn’t realize they were both crushing on him, they became best friends.

Their names were Akira and Leandro.

Usually, Leandro had no problem with getting along with people, no matter what but when he saw another boy looking at Dillon (the boy he had a crush on), he wouldn’t stand for it. He ended up calling the boy out behind the meal hall right after dinner.

“Stop looking at Dillon,” he said, crossing his arms trying to come off as threatening in some way. Surprisingly (at least to him), the boy just raised his eyebrow at him.

“No,”

“W-what!!? Why!?” He demanded.

“Because I like Dillon too!”

“So, stop liking him!”

“No!”

“Fine! I guess I’ll just have to get him to like me first!”

“Good luck with that!”

“You too!” With that Leandro, turned and stomped away, shoulders tense. Akira looked after him, his eyes narrowed.

And so their rivalry began. They were constantly working against each other, whether it be by bringing Dillon gifts or demanding their attention, or damaging each other’s chances in some way. One day, Leandro would shove a bug down the back of Akira’s shirt, making him hop around the camp, shrieking as he tried to get it off. Another, Akira would sneak under the table and tie Leandro’s shoelaces together.

Was it juvenile? Yes.

Did it work three times? Also yes.

In the grand scope of things, it wasn’t a very sophisticated “prank war” by any means but the word of their “battle” spread across the camp and it became something to look forward to. Almost everybody knew about the war and who it was about, except for one person;

Dillon.

Now, people would look at this situation and think Dillon is dumb as a stump and you’re absolutely right. He was, but they didn’t see it that way, in fact, they saw it as kind of adorable that he was so innocent. At first at least. Then one day after a wilderness survival session, they sat with Dillon as he studied the small map they were given.

“Is the blue part, water or the sky?” He asked, pointing at the coloured parts of the map. The rose coloured glasses over both of their eyes shattered. As candidates for the Galaxy Garrison and prodigy students, there's only so much they can take.

“Uuhhh, yeah, sorry Dillon, we gotta go,” Leandro said, pulling Akira up and bolting away.

Thankfully all of this happened in the first few weeks of the summer and for the rest of it, they spent together. Honestly, if they had to describe it, it was every summer teen movie filmed by Disney ever. You know, the typical enemies become friends and save the day or whatever. They never had a final boss battle but you get the point. Unless you count when their parents came to get them.

The night before they left, they snuck out of their cabin and to the fire pit. With the fire extinguished and the light from the camp almost completely blacked out, they could see the stars stretching across the entire sky.

“Wow, the whole summer passed and there wasn’t a single, other cute guy,” Leandro mused.

“If this is any inclination to the rest of my life, I’m gonna be disappointed,” Akira agreed, chuckling.

“What about Dylan, he’s kind of cute,” Akira suggested.

“Ehh, he’s okay I guess but man I thought this was gonna be my summer for romance,” he sat up quickly before sighing. “What am I even talking about? No one would want to date me anyway,” Leandro huffed, pressing his face into his knees.

“What’d you mean?” Akira asked with concern. So far this summer, he hadn’t shown this side to Akira. He was usually confident in himself and in turn boosted Akira’s confidence.

“Dude, just look at my face, no guy would ever ask me out,” he peeked back at Akira.

“Well, at least you’ve got perfect teeth,” he shot back crossing his arms and lifting his lip to flash metal lined teeth at him.

“The braces are gonna come off eventually, my skin is gonna look like this forever!” Leandro whined.

“You’re being dramatic Leandro,”

“Obviously!”

“Come on, we’re only fourteen, we’ve got forever to find boyfriends!”

“When have you been this upbeat?” Leandro said with mock suspicion.

“Since I saw my best friend upset,” He scoffed, crossing his arms triumphantly.

“Man, why can’t I have friends like you at home?” Leandro sighed, laying back and looking at the stars.

“Because I’m irreplaceable,” Akira teased, laying beside Leandro.

“True,” he sighed. “I’m gonna miss you Akira,” he said quietly after a beat.

“Me too,” he sighed, looking over at Leandro.

“Promise you’ll come back next summer?” Leandro asked, his eyes suspiciously glassy. He held out his pinky, Akira sniffed and nodded his head latching his pinky to his.

“Pinky promise,”

“You’re not going back this summer,” his mama informed him as she pulled out his suitcase from the closet.

He’d just gotten off school for the summer break and brought the camp application to his mother to sign so he could back. He couldn’t wait to see Akira again and catch up. Unfortunately, his mama had other plans.

“What!?” Lance cried, his eyes wide. “Why not!?”

“We’re going to Cuba for the summer,” she said shortly, handing the case off to her son. Normally Lance would be excited to be spending his summer away from home but he’d been waiting for camp the entire year. He’d even been counting down on his calendar.

“But-but, I want to go back!” He cried, desperately. “I promised Akira!”

“Akira?” She questioned in confusion. “Was that the boy you hung out with last year?”

“Yeah, and I promised that I’d be there this year,”

For a second, there was a look of sympathy on her face before she sighed and rubbed her hand down her face.

“I was going to tell everyone together but your grandmother is sick and the doctors don’t think she’s going to make it through the summer,”

“What?” The colour drained from his face and shock overtook his senses. He felt arms wrap around him and he sank into the comfort, he didn’t even realize that he was sobbing. While he looked out the window of the plane, he hoped that Akira would forgive him for breaking their promise and more than anything wished that they would meet again someday.

The first time Lance saw Keith, he didn’t know what he was feeling. It was a weird mix of familiarity, but also competitiveness? In simple terms, it was confusing as hell and he didn’t know what it meant. When he found out who he was, he thought he figured it out. Keith Kogane: one of the most talented pilots of their generation, almost as great as Takashi Shirogane, or so everyone was saying. So he chalked it up to him wanting to compete with Keith, prove who was the better pilot.

“Dude, why are you always staring at Keith?” Hunk asked one day, while they were eating in the mess hall. Lance chewed thoughtfully for a second, still burning holes in the side of Keith’s head.

“I don’t know… I’m pretty sure I hate him?” He questioned with a tilt of his head.

“You don’t know?” Hunk deadpanned. Lance hummed and shrugged.

He really didn’t know, but nothing else made sense.

He thought that maybe that weird feeling would go away after a week or two in Voltron. Team bonding and all that, but it just kept getting stronger. To be perfectly honest, it was interfering in their team dynamic and everyone was starting to notice. Surprisingly, Keith was acting strange around him as well. At times he would look around and catch Keith just staring at him with narrowed eyes. At first, he thought he was glaring at him but then he’d tilt his head as if he was trying to figure out a puzzle.

Allura and Shiro finally had enough of their behaviour and she and Coran organized a second bonding session with the mind meld headbands. But this time they weren’t trying to form Voltron, they were just trying to get to know one another.

They sat in their circle thinking of happy memories or things that would help their teammates know more about them. Things were going smoothly until for just a second Lance thought of Akira. Keith gasped, his mind suddenly racing with thoughts. He pulled the headband off and dropped it on the floor. The others pulled their’s off as soon as they lost Keith’s connection and watched him with concern.

“Keith?” Shiro reached out to grab his shoulder but Keith was too busy studying Lance, who had narrowed his eyes at him.

“What’s with you?” Keith’s eyes widened.

“No. Fucking. Way… Leandro?” Keith asked, staring across the semi-circle to Lance. His mouth dropped open in shock. There was only one person his age who knew that name.

“Akira?”

There was a beat of silence before they both jumped up and leapt at each other with excited shrieks of “HOLY SHIT!” They collided in a hug and started squeezing the life out of the other.

“Man, you had some glow up,” Lance whistled, pulling his bottom lip down. “Look at those beautiful teeth!” He whistled.

“Me!? Look at you! I’ve never seen clearer skin!” Keith said, with a wide grin, reaching out to pinch Lance’s cheek.

“Wait. You guys knew each other?” Pidge deadpanned, pointing between them.

“Yeah! Oh my god, it’s been so long!” Lance laughed, hugging Keith again. “We have to catch up, we’re doing a spa night right now!” He cheered dragging a smiling Keith out of the training room.

“Wait! How do you know each other!?” Hunk yelled.

“Later! We’re having a best friend night!” Lance laughed back.

In case you’re wondering why they didn’t recognize each other:

Keith has braces, his hair is short, and he has glasses.

Lance has pretty bad acne (why he’s so careful with his skin now, glasses, and he was really short.

#lance #keith #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #lance mcclain #keith kogane #fluff #gay keith #gay lance #keith and lance met before #akira #leandro #akira and leandro #team bonding #they went to camp #i don't know what to tag #fanfic

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ladyofstardust · 5 years

Text

Love is a Glitter Cannon in an Empty Pool

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating: T

Summary: In which Sarah gets her hands on a glitter cannon, owes 500 will o wisps a favour, and gives Jareth old cereal for his birthday. Everything goes exactly to plan.

Notes: Apartment-verse fic. Set after the events of Carol of the Goblins. I’m also posting them over at Ao3 in order if you’d prefer to read that way.

So true funny how it seems Always in time, but never in line for dreams Head over heels when toe to toe This is the sound of my soul

- True, Spandau Ballet

“Can you,” Sarah huffed, pushing on the extremely heavy iron base. “Lift up the front just a littttttle? I just…want to get it into…the deep end.”

“Man, you are lucky I’m even letting you borrow this thing, let alone having me carry it into this pool. It’s too heavy for that Sarah!” Laurel complained, letting the front of the cannon drop with a thud.

“No one will know!” She said, the base of the cannon unmoving against her shoulder. “I promise we won’t break it.”

“You promise a lot of things for a woman trying to push a glitter cannon into an empty pool,” Laurel said appraising the situation. “I’m half convinced you only picked this day because you knew I had that wedding to attend and cannot watch the absolute shitstorm this will be.”

“It won’t be a shitstorm, it’s going to be a glitter storm.” Sarah corrected, finally giving up the ghost on the glitter cannon, settling for its place in the shallow end. “Also it’s his birthday, I didn’t pick it!”

This was…mostly true. She knew Jareth had a birthday - everyone had a birthday! But she didn’t know when it was. In fact, she was pretty sure he didn’t know either. She’d bugged him and asked him enough, and every time he gave her a different date. Some of them weren’t even real dates as the 47th of Mercury wasn’t really something she could find on any of her calendars. So the next time he threw out a (real) date she decided to run with it. His fault for not being more specific.

She’d been planning this for the last three months. He was always doing these surprise romantic things for her. It was easy enough for him to take her to Prague on a whim, or twirl her around skating on the frozen over bog. Fine, points to King. But she had a friend who was an operations assistant for the local baseball team. The local baseball team that so happened to be in off-season. That so happened to be in off-season with a currently unused glitter cannon. Then she found out her parents were going out of town, and their pool would be drained for the season, and the whole thing just started coming together.

But Laurel couldn’t be there. Sarah knew there was no way in hell she was getting unfettered access to that glitter cannon without Laurel insisting on attending. Which in fairness, given that Sarah and Jareth had been a “thing” now for a while, Laurel was past irritated and solidly into suspicion. She completely lucked out that her friend had to go to her brother’s wedding that weekend and couldn’t be there. This was her glittery shot for romance GK style and she was going all out.

“Why does he like glitter so much anyways?” Laurel asked. “It doesn’t even have a purpose.”

“Says the woman with the glitter cannon,” Sarah said with a smirk. “And who even knows - maybe he was dropped on his head in the middle of studio 54 as an infant and the glitter invaded his cerebral cortex. Or maybe David Bowie came to him in a dream and told him to be Glitter King henceforth. Or maybe he’s secretly a magpie and is just really into shiny things. The possibilities are endless.”

“So, I mostly know you’re joking, but given some of the things you’ve told me about him in the past, I’m unwilling to rule anything out.”

“That’s the right call. Last time I made an assumption about him I ended up flat on my back. Well…actually that ended up going pretty well for me eyyyy” she said holding out her hand for a high five.

“Dude.” Laurel deadpanned.

“Listen buddy, you were the one pushing us to start banging. Now either give me a high five like a good friend or go inside and get the smoke machine.”

With a sigh, Laurel lifted her hand for the high five and Sarah forcefully returned it.

“Do you guys just spend all your time together having sex and high fiving about it after?”

“Pretty much!” Sarah grinned, running into the house to search for the aforementioned smoke machine.

“You’re gross!” Laurel called after her.

“Nope just happy! Deal with it!” Sarah shouted behind her.

Sarah started digging under the kitchen sink for the smoke machine. Laurel had offered to lend hers, but Sarah actually had a few from a halloween party her parents threw a few years ago, and they wouldn’t notice if say, a goblin decided to turn it into a vomiting purple goop machine. Sarah sighed thinking of her poor George Foreman grill. Forever ruined, sitting with the rest of the electronic graveyard in her apartment storage locker.

“My lady, where did you want the wisps?” Sir Didymus asked from behind her, gesturing to a large glowing collection that someone might mistake for fireflies, but it was likely to be their last mistake.

“Just take them into the basement for the next half hour or so, I still have humans around.”

Sir Didymus nodded once and called to the will o’wisps to join him. Sarah still had to pick up a few things for the party, Karen didn’t keep non-healthy snacks in the house, but Sarah knew Toby had a secret stash of Mars Bars and Fritos under his bed. But she wouldn’t do him like that, he was already mad at her that she wouldn’t admit her boyfriend was the Goblin King. But there was no way in hell she was risking letting that slip in front of Karen or her dad, and twelve year old boys were never the pinnacle of discretion.

Laurel promised to finish setting up the cannon before she left (but not before extorting a promise that she’d get photos of the end result), and Sir Didymus was busy coaching the wisps for their parts in the basement. How he managed to get over 500 will o’ wisps to agree to this was a question for another time, but she was grateful he pulled it off. Sir Didymus loved his king, and would do anything he asked. But for Sarah he’d move worlds and she knew this. Jareth knew it too, she suspected he encouraged her friend’s behaviour.

When Sarah returned after a very fruitful snack run, she noticed her friend had done her a solid and also set up the smoke machine as well. Pool emptied out, and cannon and smoke firmly in place, Sarah spent the rest of the afternoon putting on her best taffeta and aqua-netted look, getting all the snacks in order and hooking up her old boombox before she declared the situation Ready for Party Time.

She chose the pool as party central because she both wanted to contain the glitter, but didn’t want anyone peering over fences and happening to catch a glimpse of any magical mayhem. The pool was both outside, and slightly hidden from view, as long as they stayed in the deep end. Plus it kinda looked like a middle school gymnasium with all the water gone and decorated with crepe paper. This was exactly the look she was going for and Sarah was pleased.

“Didymus, are the wisps ready on my call?” She cried out to her friend, who was standing on the diving board, preparing to conduct the wisps like a maestro.

“Ready whenever you are my lady!”

“Okay Didymus, cue the smoke machines!”

The pool began to fill with a slightly stale smelling fog and Sarah hit play on the boombox.

“Alright folks,” she said to no one in particular. “I wish the King of the Goblins would come and party with me right now!”

“What. In. Stars. ” She heard him deadpan from across the pool.

That was her cue. Covering her ears, she let off the cannon and the large boom it made nearly knocked her over, but it began to rain glitter into the pool. The will o wisps began dancing in an array of neon colours giving their best impression of the laser light show she’d shown them, and Spandau Ballet’s True echoed against the pool’s walls. The hundred or so balloons she had managed to get the goblins to actually blow up, drifted along with the smoke and glitter and Sarah thought it had all come together rather perfectly.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY JARETH!” She ran towards him and threw her arms around his neck kissing him.

“I don’t…have a birthday?” He said confused looking around at the scene.

“Of course you do, just because you don’t remember it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. This was the date you gave me last time I asked, so I decided from henceforth, today is your birthday. I don’t get enough opportunities to celebrate you, because despite my snarking you’re pretty freaking great. Also you can’t call dibs on all grand romantic gestures, and I needed some points in the good girlfriend column.”

“You’ve already a good girlfriend…and I’m not sure I understand. Are those…will o wisps? Pretending to be … lasers?”

“I’m frankly shocked you know what a laser is but yes. Welcome to your 80s music dance party. Featuring all the trimmings. I’ve got 80s themed snacks, 80s themed smoke, 80s themed will o wisps and the goblins are all wearing neon sweatbands, and have gotten really into Karen’s old Jane Fonda workout tapes, so they’ll be completely out of our hair.

“You did all this for me?” He said looking around at the scene. The glitter was still raining down into the pool and Sarah felt her stomach turn. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, maybe there was a reason he didn’t celebrate his birthday.

“I did,” she said nervously. “Because I love you, like a lot. So if you hate this I’ll stop it right now and we can just go inside and watch the goblins learn jazzercise.”

He broke into a grin and kissed the top of her head affectionately.

“I love it. You’re the best girlfriend in this world or any other, title to Ms. Sarah Williams, I’ll arrange for your sash and sceptre in the morning. I’m completely surprised, but admittedly this does explain a few things.”

“Yeah…yeah…I kinda thought there might be leaks on this plan.” She wasn’t so optimistic to think that there was any way to keep roughly 30 goblins sworn to secrecy but she figured that Jareth would hear “laser light show” from goblins and assume…well she didn’t think he’d jump to surprise birthday party at least.

“So what now?” He asked, catching a piece of falling glitter on his palm.

“Now we slow dance like middle schoolers.” She said seriously, placing her hands on his shoulders. He went to place his hands in the proper dance positions but she swatted them away. “I said middle school! Hands on shoulders mister and they better not wander.”

“But it’s my birthday,” he whined.

“Only technically,” she said rolling her eyes. “Besides we’re going to do this right. I am committed to the theme.”

They swayed quietly to the echoing synthesizers for a few minutes until the song changed. At which point Jareth took his opportunity to pull her closer.

“Middle school’s over,” he said giving her a twirl. “Though I notice your dancing has improved significantly.”

Sarah couldn’t hid her pleased smile. “Yeah I’ve been watching some youtube videos. Something about fifty goddamn years of dance is real intimidating and...I actually had fun at the last faerie ball and you know, I could be convinced to go again.”

Jareth’s grin could have split the night it was so wide. “They’re much more enjoyable with you, I’d actually go to more of them if you were with me.”

“Do you want to go to more of them? I’ll go to any of the ones I’m expected to be at as Official Goblin Girlfriend but honestly I’d rather spend my Saturday nights watching movies on the couch with you. They’re fun on occasion though. Too much Fae time is bad for the brain.”

“This is true,” he agreed. “But I think we should avoid Samhain for the next little while as it’s always…a bit much.”

“Yeah ok fair enough,” she said. “Besides I already have our couple’s costume planned out.”

“Sarah I don’t dress up for Samhain it’s an important date Underground and - what why are you smiling like that?” He said stopping mid-sentence.

“Because I was gonna let you go as Elton John…” she said with a grin. “I could go as Princess Di and you could do your trick with the fire again.”

“I’d rather not,” he said, brow furrowing in concern.

“Oh would that be because it wasn’t a trick and instead it was just you lighting me on fire?” She said, sticking out her tongue. “What about all that ‘no Sarah, I promise it was very safe, just magic I swear I didn’t accidentally throw a fireball inside’ talk hmm?”

“I’m going to remind you again that it is my birthday and I should not have to answer questions regarding highly flammable outerwear,” he said deftly avoiding her question.

“Yeah whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “You still owe me a new scarf.”

“Do you not have a running invoice at this point?” He teased. “I’m fairly certain I’m several thousand in debt by this point.”

“Once you start factoring in the Goblins it does start getting up there,” she said. “But what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is a forfeited security deposit so one of us is going to have to do some fancy talking when it comes time for me to move out.”

“Move out?” He stopped dancing. “For what possible reason? Where would you go? Why do you feel the need to move?”

“Hey whoa,” she said pulling him toward the snack table. “I’m not planning on moving anytime soon. I mean, I’ve thought about it of course. My apartment was never designed to be the nexus of weirdness and goblin halfway house it seems to have grown into but it…kinda is now? To be honest I’ve spent more time wondering if there’s any way you could expand it so we had more room for our friends and goblins without them encroaching into our bedroom.”

“I looked into it, while it was achievable it was unlikely to be reversible. Presenting a bit of a challenge for the next lodger after you.”

“I thought you didn’t want me moving,” she said with an arched brow.

“Let’s just say I had a few thoughts of my own, I just thought I might be consulted before making any decisions,” he trailed off.

“And you will be, because a glitter cannon in an empty pool says that where you go I go,” she pointed to the cannon in the corner which was now sort of sadly puking out small puffs of glitter and giving her strange high school prom flashbacks.

“I suppose I always assumed after you left your apartment it would be to move into the castle,” he said, pouring a glass of Tang.

“It might be,” she said with a noncommittal shrug. “I dunno, like I said, I wasn’t planning on moving out anytime soon. But I mean, I think we both like having a place Aboveground to call our own. I know you have all those other properties under your name though, so I was more thinking that might be a good next step. Moving into one of your houses together. But not today.”

“Why not today?” He asked, taking a sip of Tang. The face he pulled was, in Sarah’s estimation, 100% worth pushing a glitter cannon into a pool for. “What is this appalling drink?”

“Tang,” Sarah said, opting for a crystal Pepsi instead. “And because last I checked the only one paying rent on my place was me. I’m also the one who has the utilities in their name, and the internet though to be honest it might…actually be Hoggle on my cable package. He loves HBO.

“I like being self-sufficient, this isn’t news,” she popped a Frito into her mouth. “If I move into one of your guaranteed ridiculously over the top homes, it’s just a hop skip and a jump from there into kept woman territory. I know I can keep my job, but God I hate my job. If I didn’t have to do it…I’m not sure I would.”

“Something tells me this has less to do with you than it does Linda,” Jareth replied carefully, waving away the Tang and producing something that smelled distinctly like Goblin Ale.

“Yeah well, that’s the thing isn’t it? Mommy issues run deep and true, and unfortunately they don’t die with their human counterpart,” she said. “But regardless, I’m not down to live in some brownstone downtown just yet.”

“I was more thinking Upper Nyack,” he said glancing around her parent’s expansive backyard. “I’m feeling a bit sentimental about this town and I enjoy your parent’s company.”

“You’re just saying that because my Dad promised to take you to a Rod Stewart concert. Which by the way, might actually kill me. If I wasn’t so worried about what you two would talk about I’d be coming down with a terrible flu.”

“Nice try Sarah,” he laughed. “What was it you said, ah yes, half the fun is seeing your face.”

“Ughhhh,” she whined, throwing her head back. “I hate that you like dad rock.”

“Consider it my birthday gift precious,” he said, kissing her on the tip of her nose.

“Yeah and what was all this then,” she said in mock indignation, gesturing around the fog and glitter laden pool.

“A wonderful surprise,” he grinned. “Though I still don’t quite understand how Sir Didymus managed to get the wisps involved. They are not known for taking direction well.”

“Oh what won’t Didymus do for me,” she said waving him off. “Honestly, I feel I could ask him for the moon and he’d start building a ladder.”

He’s not the only one,” Jareth replied.

“I think I proved I’d build a ladder for you too tonight,” she pointed out. “A ladder made of Funyuns and Red Vines.”

“Is there anything on this table that isn’t decades past its expiration date, or comprised of pure sugared rubber?” He said, looking unhappily at the snack table.

“Uh there might be,” Sarah said glancing at the table filled with technicolor treats. “But I don’t know why you’d want to eat it. Corn syrup and aspartame is the backbone of this country.”

“Is this really what you ate during your childhood,” he said, gesturing to the bowl of Smurf Berry Crunch. “I don’t even know what species this is supposed to be.”

“Yeah I actually…don’t know?” she said tilting her head to look at the box. “Also there was only one girl smurf, Smurfette. Which raises a lot more questions.”

“Has this been in your step-mother’s cupboard this whole time?”

“Haha no way,” Sarah laughed shaking her head. “Karen’s way too fastidious for that. No I got some of it off eBay, some of it from the basement where she never goes, but this was an eBay find.”

“You got me used cereal for my birthday?” He said, raising a single eyebrow at her.

“It’s not used, the box isn’t even open.” She said, grabbing the box. “Also it’s got so much sugar in it there’s no way it can actually go bad. It’s fine. I’m sure it’s fine. Pretty sure.”

“Forgive me if you don’t fill me with confidence love,” he said, delicately taking the box out of her hands. “But have you considered, there are food options that don’t carry such a caveat of ‘pretty sure’.”

“Goblin Ale is not one of those options,” she said pointing to the glass in his hand.

“Perhaps then the saying, better the devil you know,” he said, taking a long sip.

“You’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of that saying,” she said, sniffing his glass. “Every time I smell or decide to do something stupid like taste the thing it’s different.”

“Funny you should mention that,” he said. “The goblins don’t actually have a word for drink. All drinks are called ale and all ale is a drink. They are synonyms to them.”

“Yeah stuff like that is the reason I have to hide my blender,” she said sighing and taking a sip of his drink. It burned worse than the cheapest tequila. “It still tastes like death.”

“Well it’s an acquired taste,” he said rolling his eyes, and taking his drink back from her. “Just like you.”

“Just like you,” she said, giving him a playful poke. “Though I did try tonight. So if there’s something missing here that you’re looking for, you have my permission to magic it in.”

“No strings?” He said with a wicked glint in his eye.

“Please do not make me regret saying this,” she said, raking a hand down her face. “Something nice maybe?”

“I have just the thing,” he winked.

It took Sarah a second to realize what he’d done. Then she noticed there wasn’t any music playing. The “lasers” were gone. She also didn’t hear any of Sir Didymus’ shrieks about the wisps breaking formation.

“Did you just bog everyone?!” She said, anxiously looking around the pool for any errant wisps.

“I sent them home.” He said. “Where they are more than welcome to continue celebrating my non-birthday.”

“Jareth I’m not going to have sex with you on the floor of my parent’s drained pool no matter how real your birthday is,” she said crossing her arms.

“While I won’t say the thought didn’t occur to me,” he said, leading her back towards the epicentre of the glitter cannon explosion. “That’s not why. Well, it might be why later.”

“It’s not,” she said.

“Nevertheless!” He replied brightly. “Look up Sarah.”

Sarah looked towards the sky and was surprised to see a full meteor shower happening all around them. Down into her parent’s pool, the glitter cannon started spurting again, and Jareth restarted the music.

“Better than lasers?” He asked her with a smirk.

“Always gotta show me up huh?” She said grinning. “Yeah that’ll do pig, that’ll do.”

“Pig?”

“Babe,” she said giving him a kiss on the nose.

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a laugh. She wrapped her arms around him and looked back up towards the meteor lit sky. “Happy Birthday Jareth, let’s watch these stars fall.”

#my ownsome #fanfiction #labyrinth #labyrinth has ruined me #apartmentverse #also Sarah doesn't have a cake for Jareth because Jareth couldn't blow out candles on a cake #he's not allowed any wish rituals #even if he abstains from the actual act of wishing #rules and such #It gives his magic an outlet that he can't control and this has a tendency to create dangerous situations #Sarah knows this after offering him half her wishbone and Jareth acting like she'd turned a gun on him #and Jareth is well trained not to wish on any shooting stars

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