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153389	Seven Deadly Sins Sloth	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Angel - Fandom", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Shakespeares_Girl", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2011-01-18T00:00:00", "words": "671", "Additional Tags": "Drama, Angst", "Relationship": null, "Character": "Buffy Summers", "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	She'd been too slow, that was the problem.One day she'd had all the time in the world, two vampire champions, and no hurry to figure out what she wanted from life. The next thing she knew, she'd gone over the time limit and had points deducted, lost both vampires, and knew without a doubt, she'd made a terrible mistake.Because now, with all the time in the world whittled down to no time left, and her over here in Italy while her vampires were there in LA, and the whole Watcher's Council thing not going so well for Giles, she had to decide what she was going to do, and do it now, before the little thing she liked to call her life came crashing down around her like a souffle baked for too long, or a building slated for demolition.She had two choices. Help Giles, or go to LA and try to break up the vampires she loved. Either way it was already too late.She hadn't gone to London when Giles had called and begged for help, and now he'd had a nervous break down and was in the English equivalent of Happy Dale Sanitarium, only he wasn't running up and down stairs shouting "Charge" like some demented Teddy Roosevelt. He was sitting silently in a padded cell, crying and mumbling about "can't take another apocalypse, can't take it, make someone else face the hell-beast, please."And instead of letting her vampire boys see her, get their hopes up, and wait around for her until she was done with the Immortal, she'd had Andrew railroad them and distract them until they'd given up and gone home. Where apparently they fell into each others arms and fucked like rabbits. Or, you know. Something less appalling. Because that was an image she didn't need. Angel fucking Spike. Or-God forbid-Spike fucking Angel.She set her teeth, and sighed, and called the airline, and when the lady who answered the phone asked where she'd be flying, Buffy sighed. "I'm not sure. I'm either going to LA, or to London.""Miss, you have to know which it is before I can book you a flight.""Which would you prefer?""Me? Miss, this is not a psychic hot-line. If you need advice, call Miss Cleo.""Oh, she was a scam. They shut her down." Buffy considered. "Actually, I'm pretty sure she was a form of vengeance demon.""I'm sorry, Miss, I don't think I can help you.""No, wait!" Buffy cried out, before woman hung up."Yes?""I have to go to London because my mentor and the man who was pretty much my father lives there, and he's had a nervous break down.""I see. Shall I book you for the seven o'clock?""But I also have to go to LA because the men I love are going gay for each other because I'm not there to choose one of them. So I have to choose which problem is bigger.""Miss, with all due respect-""Which one do I pick? Do I pick my Giles? The only man who's consistently been there for me and acted in my best interests? Or do I pick the men I love, who share a long and bloody past with each other, often clash over similar tastes in females and have been cock-blocking and beating each other bloody for the past century?""Miss! I've booked you on the seven o'clock flight to London, where you will go and take care of your mentor. When that's finished, call back and we'll see about getting you that flight to LA, but I must say, you're quite the slovenly minx if you've waited long enough to drive former rivals into each others arms. If you can pry them away from each other now, I'd be heartily surprised.""Thanks," Buffy said tiredly, and sank back into the couch. "Slovenly," Buffy grumbled, before she pushed herself up to go start packing. "Just shows what she knows. I'm not slovenly. Just-just . . . patient."
151240	Action	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Rodney McKay, John Sheppard", "Fandom": "Stargate Atlantis", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Cesare", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2010-05-11T00:00:00", "words": "2,741", "Additional Tags": "Porn, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Porn Video, Humiliation, Kink Negotiation, Community: kink_bingo", "Relationship": "Rodney McKay/John Sheppard", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Rodney doesn't quite understand it all, but it's what John wants, so he does it. It's not like him to be so accommodating for the sake of another person's particular desire, but when John told him, his words were so halting and painful that even Rodney understood that it was important. And it did sound... intriguing.He only hesitated to say, "But it's so dangerous for you.""I know," John said quietly, but even as he looked down at his hands, his skin flushed with color, his eyes darkening.So it seems like he wants it because of the danger, not despite it. Rodney could find choice words to skewer John's self-destructive streak, but this is the one thing he doesn't target. Well, he did once without thinking about it. But John looked so miserable that Rodney has always remembered since then. It's hard for him to be careful of sore spots, but he works to be gentle about this one.They have a routine now, for the nights that they have time to do it all. Rodney sets up the equipment. They shower and shave together. Sometimes John wants particular clothes for one or both of them; Rodney balked at wearing a Speedo, but once managed to let John talk him into wearing a jock strap.Rodney starts everything up, and the two of them settle onto the bed together. It works best with Rodney leaning against pillows at the head, legs open to admit John, who lies back against Rodney's chest. The sight of John's spiky cowlicks close up from above and the smell of John's clean hair have, through positive reinforcement, become surefire turn-ons for Rodney.They talk.Rodney: "I think I deserve some rimming."John: "Okay. Want to bottom, then?"Rodney: "Either way for that."John: "Cool. You could pin down my shoulders and fuck me?"Rodney: "Then let me finger you to start out with, get you nice and messy with lube. I'd like to think about that while you're tonguing me. And then I'll fuck you."Or.John: "We could make out a lot to start."Rodney: "Define the parameters of making out."John: "Just... kissing and groping. Didn't you ever make out when you were a teenager?"Rodney: "I had two Bachelors and a Masters by the time I turned twenty. What do you think?"John: "So let me show you. Bet you'll like it."Rodney: "Probably a safe bet. How do you want to get off?"John: "Handjob, blowjob, rubbing off... anything like that."Rodney: "Okay. I definitely want a blowjob."John: "Deal."Or.Rodney: "Can we improvise?"John: "Sure. I could fuck you?"Rodney: "Okay. Improvising, then fucking."John always goes pink while they decide, but he speaks readily enough, and with a sincerity that Rodney rarely sees in him otherwise. He loves John, but sleeping with him has only confirmed Rodney's suspicion that John is full of shit a lot of the time.It's okay. On these nights, Rodney gets John without all the noise and interference.And once the talking's over and they have sex, John's amazing. Strong, supple and shameless, he throws himself into it so wholeheartedly that the first time, Rodney wondered how this could possibly be the same guy as the sauntering, glib jackass who's occasionally Rodney's closest friend.John isn't just good in bed, he's artful."You have," Rodney says sometimes, "a very, very particular talent.""Aw shucks," says John into the pillow, because once the afterglow fades he's always back to his usual bullshit. Rodney doesn't know how anyone can complain about Rodney being sarcastic when John's right there, practically every word and action dripping with irony.Rodney's never ready to give John up to wry detachment again so soon. So once John's over his post-coital cuddly stage and goes back to smirking, Rodney curtails any further crap by going to the foot of the bed and stopping the camera."Do you want to watch?" he asks.John can't be ironic about this, Rodney's learned. John always loses the smirk and says, "Yes."Rodney separates the camera from the cables and brings his laptop back to bed. His setup is meticulous: the video is processed in real time, uncrackably encrypted before the bits ever hit the data crystal. Only he and John know the password, 1874193819672220.They settle back into that same position, Rodney reclined against the pillows, John lying back on Rodney's chest, this time with the laptop on his knees. He always asks, "Can you see?""Yes," Rodney says. "Fire it up."John starts the video. There they are, lying just like they are now, naked this particular time. They block out what they're going to do and the order they'll do it in. Video-John has a hand on himself, not really stroking, just there, squeezing his cock at the root now and then. His cheeks and ears redden as they talk. His dog tags catch the light, shining on his chest.They finish planning and video-Rodney slides his hands under John's arms and smooths down his chest, fingers circling his nipples, while Rodney mouths the crook of John's neck.Rodney still remembers doing that, exactly how it felt, and now he can see how it looked, how hot it is... his big pale hands spanning John's chest, sliding down to cup John's balls while John throws back his head, sweat breaking out at the hollow of his neck.Seeing it on the screen, Rodney always feels a strange excitement that's not anything like what he feels when they're actually having sex, or even when he fantasizes or gets himself off alone; this sensation doesn't reach his cock, which is fair enough, it's well out of the game at this point. Instead it's a thrill that reverberates through his chest and stomach, almost like anxiety.It's like a variation on a theme of panic, one that feels good instead of awful. He even has some of the same panic reactions, his hands going cold, a shaky feeling all over, something almost like nausea clutching in his gut. He slips his arms around John and squeezes, and that stabilizes everything, makes it all crystallize fully into pleasure.Video-John crouches up so that Rodney can finger him, the shine of lube visible on Rodney's fingers, John's skin. Somehow John manages to make the crouch look poised rather than uncomfortable."It's hard to resist fucking you right now," says video-Rodney. "Just pulling you right back onto me, on top so you can do all the work.""Don't hold back on my account.""I was promised rimming first."Video-John shifts to afford him room. "So turn over, then."Whenever they're watching and the camera's fully on him, Rodney braces himself a little, because surely no one needs to see how silly they look having sex. Especially the first few times they did this, Rodney was leery of viewing the recording.But it turns out that he almost never feels self-conscious watching. He looks good with John. Maybe that's part of John's particular talent, that he can make not only himself but also Rodney look good on camera. It could also be another manifestation of Rodney's supposedly giant ego. But when he sees himself turn over, ass slightly raised, his thick hairy thighs, he likes it.He likes it even better that he can see things in the video that he couldn't see at the time: video-John sitting on the edge of the bed, stroking the small of Rodney's back and over his ass, his hand familiar and proprietary, an intent, slightly glazed look on his face. John blinks himself out of his deep focus and shoots a conspiratorial look directly at the camera, an honest grin curving his mouth."Ham," Rodney says now, and nibbles John's earlobe, tugging with his teeth."Whatever," says John, rapt. "Look at that. You have the best ass.""I'm not sure anyone else can be said to have the best anything when Ronon Dex is around.""It's a judgment call, and I'm makin' it. My opinion better be the one that matters, and in my opinion your ass is the best around.""Okay, okay, I'm persuaded," Rodney says, though it's less because of John's words and more because, son of a bitch, watching video-John half bury his face in Rodney's ass, hearing the sloppy sounds he makes and the eager little hums... it's convincing.With his usual uncanny sense for what the camera can see, John angles the rest of his body, tilting his hips to expose his cock, showing off how hard he is-- hard and trembling while he works his tongue into Rodney's ass.Soon video-Rodney cinches fingers at the base of his dick to keep from coming, and John lifts away, half his face gleaming wet.They rearrange. It looks smooth on camera, as if they practiced it, but really John was subtly positioning them both. Rodney knows him well enough that it takes just a touch here and there to direct him where John wants him to go.On the screen, they end up at a diagonal before the camera, so Rodney's back and side and partial profile are visible, and so's John's body, though not really his face. Thank goodness for the bigger beds; that position wouldn't be feasible on John's tiny twin-sized cot. Not many positions were.There's another round of fingering, and video-Rodney uses plenty of lube, letting it run down John's thighs for the visual effect.Good call, apparently; when John sees it he sucks in a breath and leans back harder against Rodney, his hand tight over Rodney's hand around his waist.Video-Rodney sinks his cock slowly into John, hands wrapped around John's hips. And okay, maybe he does look a little silly in the video, a struck-dumb expression on his face as he works his cock in and out of John slowly at first, til John's whining and pushing back for it and Rodney bends to pin John's shoulders down and starts to really thrust. But it doesn't matter that he looks silly or that he's wiping sweat out of his eyes, his hair damp with it and looking even thinner. He's driving John to make sounds like that, sounds that Rodney gets to hear all over again now, and it's so hot.Rodney tears his eyes away from the video to look at John. As usual by this point, John's ears are red, his color high on his face and down his neck, even over his collarbone.This is the part Rodney understands less well. But he did it once in the spirit of experimenting with dirty talk, and John's reaction was so dramatic that it was obviously a Thing, so Rodney made it part of their ritual."You love this," he says into John's ear. "Don't you."John's fingers dig into the back of Rodney's hand, and John's eyes slam shut for a moment, his body tensing, his breath indrawn and held, his blush more vivid than ever."Yeah," he husks, and then slowly he exhales and relaxes, eyes opening to fix on the screen.Rodney doesn't get it. Everything about John's reaction says he's painfully embarrassed by the words... but they're usually naked while they watch the recording, and Rodney can see John's cock stir and pulse in that moment. Once or twice John even got hard again after Rodney said it.In the recording, video-Rodney pulls out and John flips over. It looks choreographed; really, John gestured with his left hand, out of sight of the camera, to let Rodney know he wanted to change position. At this vantage, John's dog tags are just vague hints of silver sliding across his chest. Rodney's back in him almost immediately, his hand flying out to pump a quick splash of lube into his palm, and then he grasps John's erection and slowly strokes, too slowly to get John off.Video-John sucks air in through his teeth, grunts encouragingly, arches up to push himself through Rodney's hand. Through it all, he keeps his face turned to the camera, his desperation visible in every expression that flits across his face, audible in every gasp and moan.Cued by another invisible hand gesture, video-Rodney speeds his hand, ramping it up until John's mouth opens in a soft, amazed oh, and then John comes, jerking with it, wracked by it. It's the only moment when he's not graceful for the camera. It almost looks as if he's suffering convulsive shocks.Video-Rodney waits, jaw visibly clenched, til John's spent. Then he resumes with a gentler glide in and out, smooth and easy for a minute or two, unwilling to jar John yet. Then John regains some sensibility and starts to lift his hips a little to meet Rodney, and Rodney moves more quickly and more forcefully, til he finally reaches around John's splayed thighs to grab his ass and lift him to the perfect position.John touches the screen, tracing the line of Rodney's arm, the taxed and defined muscles.It only takes a few seconds after that before video-Rodney comes. Another hand gesture off camera from John reminds him to pull out, so the last couple of spurts shower across John's stomach, already streaked and spotted with John's own come.Video-Rodney touches the mess, the warm fresh drops and the cooler stripes turning to gel. He pulls out and reaches for the thermos and cloth, set up beforehand along with camera, laptop and lube. He wets the soft cloth with warm water from the thermos and bathes the semen from John's chest and belly, folds it over and swabs away the lube from his thighs and ass. Folds it one more time and gives himself a few swipes with it, cleaning lube from his cock and balls.Then he moves pliable, blissed-out John into a better position and lies close beside him, and John snuggles up to him right away, arms around him, legs tangled with Rodney's, a warm lax octopus for five minutes or so until he pulls away and lets his limbs drop and untangle, and when video-Rodney says, "You have a very, very particular talent," video-John says, "Aw shucks," into the pillow. Rodney hefts up out of bed and comes toward the camera, and the video ends."God," John says, and he sets the laptop on the bedstand and sprawls on top of Rodney, face against Rodney's neck.Occasionally they're lucky, and they get a second round in after watching the recording. The spirit is often willing, but the flesh is over forty, and it's not so often they have time for one session, let alone two.Anyway, maybe Rodney is a big sack of sap, but he's satisfied with a second stretch of closeness. He loves holding John like this. He feels trusted.Even if Rodney hated being recorded, even if he didn't like watching the videos... he might do it all anyway, just for the hour or two he gets to spend with a John who's not deflecting or detached or wrapped too tight to reach out. Sometimes he thinks John tells him more with those hidden hand gestures than John ever says at any other time in their private life.It's a bonus that being filmed is an interesting challenge that gives him a charge, and watching them together while his arms are tight around John is a powerful thrill that Rodney never even knew about, before."I should erase it," Rodney always says after they've watched it; he's found that even if they keep it, they won't watch it again. "It's dangerous to save it.""So erase it," John murmurs against Rodney's chest. No tensing up, no blush, his ears stay their normal color.Rodney enters the password again and deletes the file, watching the program write noise over the disk blocks ten times to eradicate all traces, traces which would be unbreakably encrypted anyway; Rodney's taking no chances when it comes to John's safety and his job.He shuts off the laptop and loops his arms around John again."So next time," he says, "three weeks from Thursday?"A few seconds for John to sharpen again, and call his schedule to mind. "That Wednesday works better.""All right," Rodney says, and makes a mental note to move some things from that Thursday morning to Friday."Think I'm gonna stay," John says. "Okay?""Yeah," Rodney says. "Okay."
107741	A Smile That Affirms	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Tobias Beecher, Elliot Stabler", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by RhymePhile", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2006-09-20T00:00:00", "words": "4,002", "Additional Tags": "Wordcount: 5.000-10.000, Crossover, Romance, Angst and Humor, Canon Compliant, Banter, Series, Sexual Tension", "Relationship": "Tobias Beecher/Elliot Stabler", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Smile", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Oz (TV), Law & Order: SVU", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The stillness of the room after his revelation was palpable. It was as if the air grew thick and time halted, seizing them both in one unending, breathless moment.Olivia was simply sitting there, staring at him, a look of utter amazement on her face.He blinked to keep the tears from welling up, and closed his eyes.His heart was pounding so hard that he welcomed the steadiness of the brick wall behind him. He was relieved he had finally told Olivia, but angry for being so apprehensive in the first place. If what he felt for Tobias was right, then why did his stomach feel nauseous?Why wasn't he brave enough for this?He could face firefights in Kuwait. He could handle the uncertainty of raising four kids on a cop's salary. He could suffer through the darkness of the job. He could take a fucking bullet for Chrissakes.Yet here he was, practically pissing his pants in fear over admitting that he loved someone.No, not just someone.Warm, intelligent, funny, emotional, goofy, caring Tobias. The man he couldn't wait to get home to. The man who could make him laugh so hard it hurt. The man whose soft whisper next to his ear in bed could make his body feel like it was on fire. The man who had changed everything. His...boyfriend. His...partner. His..."He's my lover," Elliot said finally and with conviction, making sure she understood.She frowned, shaking her head.Pushing off from the wall, he walked closer and stood over her. He was staring at her now. "Olivia...say something. Please.""I'm not sure what to say.""Just don't...don't make this harder on me than it already is," he pleaded in a whisper."Elliot...""I didn't even want to tell you, but after what happened, I needed you to understand why I was so angry."She nodded. "I see.""Dammit, Liv, don't be so fuckin' glib about this! I've been dealing with this for almost six months...""You've been seeing this guy for six months?" she asked, astonished.He sighed and sat down next to her at the table. "Yeah.""How did this...when did..."Shaking his head, he held up a hand to cut her off. "I'll start from the beginning.""Yeah, please, because my head is spinning here.""We met at a bar on St. Patrick's Day. I went in for a beer and wound up spilling his drink all over him." He smiled momentarily at the memory, then sobered. "I wasn't...looking for it, if that's what you're thinking."She took a deep breath and brushed the hair from her eyes, a movement he recognized that meant she was getting serious about something. "I know you didn't harbor any real bias toward gay guys, Elliot, but this is really out of character. I mean, you've been married for...""I know! Christ, I know, I've been through this over and over in my head and I can't explain it either! After that first night I didn't think I'd see him again, but then he called me and we had dinner. And y'know what, Liv? We talked. He listened to me, about all the shit I was going through, about the problems I was having, about Kathy, and the kids, the job, and you...""You talked to him about us?""More than I ever did with Kathy," he acknowledged. "Tobias was just there for me, and he listened to everything. I've never felt that comfortable with someone in my entire life -- not you, not Kathy, no one. We got to know each other, and things...changed. I don't know how else to explain it.""So because this man could hold a conversation you fell in love?""Dammit, Olivia," he said angrily, backing away from the table. "This was hard enough coming to you...""Sorry, you're right," she said, interrupting. "But Jesus, Elliot, look at it from my point of view. This is completely out of left field for you."He sighed and sat down again. "I know what it seems like," he answered, putting his head into his hands. "It sounds insane.""I don't begrudge you a life outside of this office. Far from it. You've had me worried for the past few weeks, and frankly it puts my mind at ease that you have someone to talk to if you can't confide in me. I accept that. I just never thought you'd be telling me you were in love with a man."He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're fucking judging me, Olivia?""No, Elliot. Stop being so defensive! Your personal life is your own, even if I don't completely understand where this is coming from.""Happiness, Liv. It's coming from happiness, respect, and two people genuinely caring for each other enough that it became something more than friendship. That's the only way I can describe it.""You were seeking happiness in a gay bar then?"No! Like I said, this was unplanned. I wasn't looking for a gay relationship for Christ's sake, Olivia. It wasn't a gay bar! You think I'd pursue something like this without being sure it's what I really want?""Is it?""It took me a while," he noted. "It was more confusing than anything at first, but after being with Tobias...yeah, I'm sure this is what I want.""Even though it's a man.""Yeah!" he exclaimed, getting agitated. "I don't look at it like that. I don't see another man in my house, I see Tobias. I see who he is, the person he's become, his emotions, feelings...every part of what makes him him. I fell in love with the person, not the fact that he shaves and pisses standing up.""Have you ever thought about it before?""What, being with a man?"She nodded.He had to ponder that for a moment. "Honestly? It never even occurred to me that it could possibly be an option. Marriage and kids will do that.""That's why you have to understand my reaction.""I do," he sighed, spent from the emotional wringer he was going through. He wished he could call Tobias right now just to hear his voice. "I know it seems strange. It felt that way to me at first, too.""Out of all the things I could possibly imagine you telling me...""At least I told you," he said darkly, his anger bubbling to the surface again.She looked at him, her eyes intimating that she took the comment as the insult it was intended to be. "I guess I deserved that.""You did.""Are we ever going to get past it?" she asked dejectedly."Maybe," he admitted, meeting her eyes. "There's a lot we still need to work out between us, Olivia. Y'know, I don't express myself as well I should all the time, but I thought you understood how hurt and betrayed I was after the transfer.""I've told you how sorry I was so many times...""I know you have. But it's always going to be at the back of my mind, worrying when the other shoe is going to drop and you leave me for good -- maybe without even telling me. I think I deserve more than that. That's part of the reason I even told you anything about Tobias at all, Liv. You're my partner...I want that trust back""I'm not leaving. That's not going to happen," she stated emphatically. "Look, we've been through some rough shit these past few months, and I admit fucking up my side of things. I didn't know how to go about it. That trust between us, Ell -- you should never think twice about it. You'll never lose that. I promise."He wondered if she knew how close he had come to quitting over the whole Blaine partnership mess. "You'll have to give me time.""I can do that.""And what you did to Tobias fucking sucked, Olivia.""I was worried about you.""You told me that, too," he said. "It doesn't change the fact that he almost left me because of it. He was so afraid you seeing us together was going to cause major problems. He's more concerned with my well-being and happiness that..."His mind immediately flashed to the still-unknown reason Tobias had been at the doctor's office, and his chest constricted. Elliot paused and cleared his throat, trying to compose himself.She tilted her head and put her hand on her chin. "You really love this guy."He nodded."I'm sorry I overreacted.""It's done." He faced her. "I'd appreciate you keeping this between us, Olivia. Munch sort of knows who Tobias is...""Sorry about that one, too.""Yeah, but the rest of the squad doesn't need to hear the sordid details of my love life. I can't handle the iron-balled cop bullshit right now.""What about Kathy?""I don't know," he admitted. "I haven't told her yet.""I have a feeling she's going to have a hard time with it.""Probably."She put her hand over his. "This is going to be difficult."He looked down then, unable to meet her eyes. "I appreciate you not freaking out too much about this. I wasn't sure how you'd take it.""Did you think I'd be calling you a fag and quoting from the Bible?""Well, no...""Elliot, I may have screwed us up a bit, and this Tobias thing might take a while to sink in for me -- because you falling in love with a man is still a little unbelievable -- but I care about you.""Well, believe it. You know I'd never lie to you."She smiled at him. "I think I know you pretty well. You're my partner."He looked up at her with a grin. "You're a pain in my ass, too.""I seem to succeed rather well in that department," she admitted sheepishly."Seriously, Olivia...thanks.""So...tell me about this guy.""You want to hear about Tobias?" he asked her, genuinely surprised."He's a part of your life now, right?""Yeah," he confirmed, stopping short of telling her about asking Tobias to move in. There were some things he didn't exactly want to tell her yet. "Yeah, he is.""Then I want to know.""I haven't been this happy in a really long time, Liv," he said."That's good to hear.""He makes me laugh; he keeps me sane; he makes me feel alive. It's unlike anything I've ever experienced." Elliot frowned and shook his head. "I didn't understand what was happening at first. I wanted to be around him; I missed him when he wasn't there. I was confused over what I was feeling -- I mean, I was having these intense, deep conversations about my life with another man, and it didn't feel strange. For the first time in a while, I was able to feel. He came over for dinner one night, and we were talking on the couch afterward. I kind of let it slip that seeing him and talking with him made me happy, and he called me on it. I didn't know how to respond, because he was right."He glanced past her then, staring at the window where the yellow sunlight of the day gradually began to morph into hues of amber and red. He thought back to that night on the couch, Tobias and him sitting there after dinner, touching one another."Well, what did you say?""I kissed him," Elliot answered, still staring at the sunset."You kissed him?"Elliot shrugged."I'm sure it surprised you more than it did him," she said, smiling in disbelief.He grinned back at her. "Kinda.""Wow.""I know.""Elliot...there's something I still don't get.""Falling in love with a man wasn't enough?""Aside from that," she confessed."What did you want to know?""Why did you get involved with an ex-con?" she asked."Like falling in love, it just happened. I promise you I wasn't in a gay, ex-con's bar. I don't think."She chuckled. "Tobias must be someone special for you to overlook the things he's done.""How much do you know about him?""Well, I already know the bad shit. Unfortunately.""The DUI? Oz?""Uh-huh, he spent almost nine years in the place as I recall."Elliot nodded. "It's hard...there's a lot he hasn't told me. I think too much of it is still painful.""It's understandable, from what I've heard about Oswald.""I want to ask him, but...""It's probably a lot like dealing with those who have been traumatized. As long as he knows you're there for him, he'll open up when he's ready.""I hope I know how to deal with it. Of the few things he's told me about the experience, he was preyed upon inside, Liv." He swallowed. "It breaks my heart.""He wasn't put in Oswald for just any reason, Elliot. He was convicted of vehicular manslaughter. Of a child.""I know. He was a lawyer before he went inside. He screwed up his life and paid the price, I understand that. But knowing the type of man he is -- how he is with me -- I can't imagine what he went through at the hands of those men.""You're talking about him like he's a victim."He paused, considering where he was going with this. He didn't have anyone else to confide in right now, and he had been struggling with the ramifications of Tobias's suffering because he wasn't sure how to ask him about it. The time in Oz was the one thing he hadn't been able to approach Tobias about, and it hurt to know that Tobias was dealing with this pain alone. He wanted to help him through it, but dealing with a male rape victim that had also become his lover was beyond his realm of expertise."He is. They raped him, Olivia."She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "Have you talked about it with him?""It gets worse: the son of the man who raped him killed his 7-year-old son, Gary.""Jesus," she gasped."I don't even know if that's everything. How am I supposed to talk to him? I can't imagine how Tobias is still functioning after that.""You don't give yourself enough credit, Elliot. There's a reason you've remained in SVU all these years. Your empathy and emotional connection with victims is amazing. When the time comes for Tobias, you'll know exactly what to say.""I hope so. It's hard knowing he suffered all those years.""It's no different than dealing with other rape victims we've seen, Ell. You have to give him time, offer your support, and eventually he'll confide in you. There's no way to force him to tell you anything.""I know, it's just...I mean..."She looked at him curiously. "What?""All the victims we've seen and helped, all the reports I've taken, the court cases I've attended...a few of them stand out in my mind. But I can't hold onto all of them. It would make me crazy if I did, so some of them become nothing more than familiar names and numbers after a few years, y'know? It's difficult to admit, but if I thought about how these cases have affected me...""This one is, though."He met her eyes. "It's never happened to someone I love."She touched his hand again. "I know.""I try not to dwell on it. Hell, I imagine these horrible scenarios because I'm not even sure of the circumstances, and dealing with this shit day after day can put some fucked-up thoughts in my head. And when I look at him...""You see it, don't you?" she asked quietly.He nodded. "Sometimes I think I can almost see the pain of what they did to him when I look at him, Liv. My mind starts putting pieces together -- the way he never mentions the name of Oswald; how he changes the subject sometimes when we're talking; the sleepless moments he's caught up in nightmares. I see him with a cop's eyes and want to help, and then I see him with a lover's eyes, and it hurts even more that I don't know how.""You have to be patient, Elliot, both with yourself and Tobias. He hasn't been out of prison for very long, right?""In October it will be a year.""Can I make a suggestion?""Of course.""I know you pretty well, Elliot Stabler, and I know how emotional and caring you can be with victims even if you don't think it's obvious. I see how you are. In this case you need to be a lover first, and a cop last. Don't treat him like he might come apart at any moment. Be honest and show acceptance, and he'll confide in you. You love him, and since even I can see it, he will too."He smiled at her, relief and gratitude washing over his features. "Thanks for that, Liv.""Can we get to work now, detective?" she smirked. "There's too much love in the air."Laughing, he got up from his chair and followed her back into the squad.* * The shift was remarkably quiet, suiting his contemplative mood. He caught up on paperwork, chatted with Munch to assure him everything was all right between him and Olivia, and even made the coffee.After clearing the air with Olivia, however, his mind immediately returned to Tobias and that doctor visit, and he had trouble concentrating on anything else."Why is it so quiet?""Man, you're gonna jinx us, John," Fin complained. "We just got here.""I'm just commenting upon man's remarkable ability to be raving savages some nights, and quiet, law-abiding citizens the next.""Gift horse, John," Cragen muttered, passing by with a fresh cup of coffee."I'm not complaining," he answered. "Just curious.""Then let yo skinny ass be curious without sayin' it, John, for real.""It's like MacBeth," Olivia said, not looking up from her computer."What about it?" Fin asked."Y'know, the cursed play? You're not supposed to say the name of the play or something bad happens when you're performing it.""And when you say it's quiet, it means shit's gonna start happenin'. That phone rings, you pickin' up.""Yeah, yeah," Munch replied.Elliot grinned, almost sure the phone would be ringing soon just to prove Fin right. He got up and walked over to Cragen's office door and tapped. "Captain?""Yes, Ell, c'mon in.""Cap, I was wondering...well, since it's so quiet...""You want to cut out early?""Just a little, yeah, if you don't mind.""Going to see the kids?"Elliot cast a glance at his shoes. "Uh, no, they'd be in bed by now."Cragen glanced at the clock. "Oh. I didn't even realize it was so late. No problem, Elliot. But if you work OT this week, don't put it down on your sheet.""Thanks, Captain."He turned to go, but Cragen called him back. "Elliot?""Sir?""How is everything?""What do you mean?""You seem like you're doing better.""Why is everyone always telling me that?""Because it's always a concern with you, Ell.""Captain...I appreciate everyone thinking about me. I'm doing fine. Great, actually. You don't have to worry.""That's good to hear.""It is," he grinned. "Thanks for the early night.""Of course."Cragen watched him bound out of the office, grab his coat and keys, and wish everyone good night.He walked over to Olivia's desk. "Liv?""Captain?" She paused from her typing."Was Elliot just smiling?"Grinning to herself, she merely nodded. "Yes, Captain, he was." * *He found the house uncharacteristically quiet when he pulled into the driveway. Usually when Tobias knew he was working a 4 to 12, he always tried to stay up to greet him after he came home from Manhattan. Tonight the living room and kitchen lights were out.Something was up, and Elliot had a feeling it had to do with that doctor's visit he wasn't supposed to know about. He was probably overreacting, though. It might have just slipped Tobias's mind.When he found the bedroom darkened, however, he began to panic.He was steps away from flipping on the light when he heard Tobias call out to him. "Dathúil?""Yeah, bud, I'm here."He had to allow his eyes a moment to get accustomed to the dark, then walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down next to Tobias's feet."You're home early," Tobias remarked."The squad was quiet. Cragen let me clock out as long as any overtime I work this week gets credited for it.""He's pretty good to you, your captain."Elliot shifted on the bed so that he could lie spooned up behind Tobias. "He is."He loosened his tie and kicked off his shoes, knowing Tobias would probably complain if he didn't. He chuckled softly at the thought."What?" Tobias asked."You've got me trained so that I remember to keep my shoes off the comforter. I'm hearing your voice in my head telling me that these shoes have been walking through New York City streets all day and don't belong on the bed."Tobias huffed softly.Elliot reached down and drew the comforter over both of them. Then he began slowly stroking Tobias's hair."You didn't wait up for me," Elliot whispered.It sounded accusatory, but he found himself anxious at the idea this odd behavior had something to do with the doctor.Tobias didn't answer right away. "I had a long day today, I guess.""Busy, huh?""I suppose.""Want to tell me about it?"Tobias turned over to face him, and Elliot returned to threading his fingers through the other man's curls."Something happened today, Ell."Elliot kissed his forehead. "You know you can tell me anything, bud.""I had an appointment during lunch...""I know," Elliot interrupted. "I, uh, went to surprise you with lunch and the woman there told me."Tobias looked at him. "Oh.""I tried not to worry about it. I thought you just forgot to tell me or something. No big deal, right? So what was it, dentist appointment? Or did you go shopping and use that as an excuse?" he asked, smiling. "You probably wanted an extended lunch, and...""No, I really had a doctor's appointment."Elliot's stomach clenched and he went back to touching Tobias's hair to calm his thoughts."Tobias...""It was to discuss my HIV test, Elliot."Oh, God."Why didn't...why didn't you tell me?" he croaked, his voice breaking. He swallowed. "I could have come with you.""I was embarrassed." Tobias looked away. "I still am. I didn't want you to think of me like that.""L-like how, Tobias?""A prison bitch," he muttered, tears starting to roll silently down his cheeks."Tobias, I could never think of you like that. Never. You know that.""But there's so much you don't know, Elliot," he sniffed in response. "Things I've done. Things I've had done...to me. I was afraid...""I know, bud, I know you were. But Oz is a long way from here, and...""No," Tobias said, "I meant I was afraid for you. That's why I got tested.""Afraid for me? You mean...what, infecting me?"Tobias nodded.Elliot slid his thumb along Tobias's cheek to wipe at the tears. "Is that why you're the one doing everything in bed?""Elliot, I couldn't risk...""Wait," Elliot said, looking at him. "You said you got tested. As in 'tested' past tense? You didn't have the test today?"Tobias's face collapsed and he finally broke down into tears."Oh Jesus, baby...is that why you've been so distant this past week? Because you were waiting on the results?"Elliot grabbed him and held him close, feeling Tobias shake in his arms."E-Ell..." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "We need to talk..."
145536	Take Your Time	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Ariadne (Inception), Arthur (Inception)", "Fandom": "Inception (2010)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "2010-12-29", "published": "2010-12-28T00:00:00", "words": "3,728", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Ariadne/Arthur (Inception)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Stupid party, stupid friends, stupid New Year," Ariadne muttered, throwing her coat and scarf onto the back of her couch. She had been feeling lonely lately, as she had been so work focused after the Fischer job. She finished her program and had started a regular, real world job, which had made Miles happy. He had been so worried about her falling into the dreaming as his daughter had. Ariadne supposed that she chose the real world more for Miles' sake than her own. She missed the dream sharing, and she missed the ability to create impossible things inside of the dreams. She had traded e-mails with the others occasionally, but it wasn't the same. One of her friends from work had invited her to the New Year party she was throwing, and Ariadne had hoped to have a little fun there. Instead, she was hit on by the idiot temp that didn't know her name, had three different drinks spilled on her dress and couldn't even find Sandrine to tell her she was leaving.The night was a disaster. If anything, it seemed to sum up how awful the year had been for her. It was empty and lifeless, and she was about to ring in the New Year the same way. How depressing and pathetic.Ariadne kicked off her heels and turned on her TV. She didn't have much in her fridge, but she grabbed a soda and lounged on her couch. So much for buying a new party dress.She watched the countdown to the new year with bleary eyes. It would be pathetic to cry, and Sandrine had told her about the superstition where what happened at midnight would influence her coming year. She refused to cry at midnight. Things were sad enough as it was. There was no need to kick start the next year with tears and loneliness.As the clock ticked over, she raised her soda can in a mocking salute. "Goodbye 2010. You sucked."There was a knock at the door as she drank from the can. Frowning, she got up and opened the door her apartment.Arthur was standing there, looking as though he had run up the five flights to her tiny apartment in Paris. She blinked at him stupidly, watching him struggle to regain his breath. He looked good, his hair mussed and warm brown eyes smiling at her. He had a heavy coat on, but she could see regular denim jeans and loafers on his feet. "Um. Arthur. You're here."He cracked a smile. "Yeah. Did I miss the countdown? My flight was late."Ariadne stood aside and let Arthur in. "You just missed it. Welcome to 2011.""I don't know... The future feels exactly the same," he said with a smile. She took his coat when he shrugged out of it, and he had on a thick cable knit sweater. It felt almost odd to see him dressed in such a casual fashion. She mentally pictured him in suits without a hair out of place. "It's good to see you, Ariadne," he said, grinning at her.She smiled back at him. "Yeah. It's great that you're here." She impulsively hugged him tightly, and she breathed in deeply as he wound his arms around her to return the hug without any reservations. "How have you been?""Working, actually. Sorry I didn't return your last couple of e-mails. Internet wasn't exactly a priority for the past few months." He looked almost sheepish. "I had to keep my head down for a while. Things went belly up on the last job I did.""What happened?"They sat on her couch, and Ariadne found herself drawn into the tale of that last job. Arthur had worked with a series of extractors after Cobb retired from the business. Most of them couldn't measure up, but it was work. Arthur despised being idle, and did jobs more to keep busy than because he had any significant financial need to do so. This latest job was a complete botch, with the extractor getting killed, the forger being tortured into revealing the name of their employer prior to her death and Arthur running for his life. "It doesn't always go south that badly, but when it does, it really does.""Is it safe to come here, then?" Ariadne asked, concerned."I'm starting over," Arthur replied. They were facing each other on her couch, not bothering to pay attention to the New Year's special on TV. His hand was close to hers, and his fingers brushed against hers as he shifted position. "The persona I used for that job was officially found dead a month ago in Brazil. I had a little help arranging that one, and apparently they fell for it. I waited a while just to be sure.""So what now?""I'm not entirely sure. I probably should back off and not go back into the business for a while. I don't have to work. But I've done this for so long I don't know what else to do anymore. I know I need to start over with a new identity and a new team, but I haven't figured who I'm going to be.""You can stay here for now," Ariadne found herself saying. She could have kicked herself once the words were out of her mouth. It wasn't as if they were together. They weren't anything but colleagues, and Arthur could possibly still be in danger.He smiled widely at her, eyes crinkling in the corners. He looked so impossibly young all of a sudden, so genuinely pleased to be near her. She found herself smiling back at him shyly, feeling a little flustered. It reminded her of the kiss in the second level of the Fischer job. She hadn't seen it coming, and it had thrown her into a spin. For weeks afterward she had thought about that kiss, wondering if there had been more to it. She had contacted him afterward, hinting that they should meet up and have dinner, but Arthur always seemed so unfailingly polite.Arthur tentatively covered her hand with his. "I appreciate the thought, but this place seems too small for two people.""Do you have somewhere else you can go?""There are a few contacts I could probably call, see what strings I can pull. But I wanted to see you first. I needed to see you."It had been months since she had last seen him. Not that she was counting."You wanted to see me?" Ariadne asked, the words finally sinking in."I missed you," Arthur admitted.Ariadne forgot how to breathe in that moment. "I missed you, too," she said softly.They leaned forward and kissed, soft and gentle. It was the beginning of things, a fleeting touch of lips that still sent static through Ariadne. She found herself smiling as she pulled back, and saw the slightly dazed look on Arthur's face that must have mirrored her own."I don't know what's coming in the new year, but I want you in it," Ariadne murmured, dropping her free hand onto his knee.Arthur tightened his grip over her hand on the back of her couch. "I definitely want that."Ariadne grinned at him, feeling a thousand times better than she felt even an hour ago. If this was how her coming year was going to be, she definitely approved.They fell asleep on her couch after talking for hours, arms tangled around each other. Ariadne's head was pillowed on Arthur's chest, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear. There was a dizzying moment of unreality when Ariadne woke up, something that made her think to look for her totem for the first time in months. It was the TV that set her at ease, though; she never watched early morning TV because she was usually too busy rushing around to get ready for work.Ariadne was comfortable on top of Arthur, one arm tucked beneath him and the other across his chest. His arms were around her, one leg thrown over hers. He was still asleep, his features smooth and relaxed. He seemed so young suddenly, so at ease. She knew he wasn't that much older than she was, maybe only a year or two, but somehow all the time he spent being a bad ass in dreams made him seem so much older. She found herself tracing the curve of his cheek, faint traces of stubble pricking at her fingers.Arthur shifted slightly beneath her, lips falling partly open. They were soft, and Ariadne couldn't help but run her fingers over them gently. She used to watch him in the warehouse while taking a break from designing her levels. He had always been so focused that she hadn't originally seen past that. She hadn't really known him well at first, and a friendship of sorts had developed. He was right, though. They didn't really know each other.She really, really, really wanted to.After the Fischer job, she had been lonely. She had felt like part of a team then, part of something special. It had been amazing and had challenged her to be a better architect, to really put herself out there in her designs. Her real world designs were better as a result, even if they felt flat and lifeless in comparison. She had gone the safe route, but it felt unfulfilling. It wasn't fair to her friends from school or work; they were perfectly lovely people and great friends, but there wasn't the thrill of discovery and imagination every day.Ariadne settled back down onto his chest. He was solid and real beneath her head, his breaths deep and even. She shut her eyes, a faint smile playing about her lips. It felt like the start of something new, something she hadn't even realized she was waiting for.***Arthur woke and didn't know where he was or what was going on. It was disconcerting; even with kicks and slow waking from dreams, he always had a fairly good sense of where he was. He moved to feel for his totem in his pocket, but his arm slid across a smooth back. He opened his eyes and saw Ariadne curled up around him, sleeping deeply. Something French was on her TV, there was a blinking message light on her answering machine and it was still the same tiny apartment they had fallen asleep in. As he shifted position on the couch slightly, Ariadne stirred, her hip digging into his and pressing his die deeply into his leg. It wasn't a dream then.He grinned suddenly, arms tightening around her protectively. Thank god, this was real.Not too long ago, Arthur was trapped in a dingy warehouse, thinking he was never going to see her again. He had clung to his mental image of her tightly, and she had been something like a talisman, his reason to stay alive in the middle of that fiasco. It had been one bad job after another once the Fischer job was over, which hadn't been like him at all. It took faking his own death to make him realize he had simply been coasting. He had moved from job to job in the past year, never really thinking about what came next. He had never allowed himself to plan farther than the next job, since that sometimes kept him from doing his research well enough. Arthur knew he could get bogged down in the details, but that was a trait that sometimes let him survive the messes he found himself in.He wanted more, though. Funny how it took nearly being killed for real to make him see that. He had killed himself so often in dreams that he never really thought about death as anything more than a means to an end. It was an abstract concept, but now it was more concrete. Thinking about that nebulous more in life led him to thinking about Ariadne. Maybe he had idealized her while he was so far away, but he had really enjoyed working with her during the Fischer job. He had liked seeing her absorb the dreaming like a sponge, that sarcasm simmering just beneath her words. She had taken Cobb to task, something Arthur knew he wasn't always good at doing. In some ways, she was utterly fearless. Ariadne fascinated him, and there had been that spark between them that hinted perhaps there could be something more than friendship between them. It was a spark he wanted to indulge in, which wasn't like him at all. Usually he could keep things on a professional level. Well, except for Eames goading him. They had worked with each other long enough that the other man knew how to push his buttons.Arthur skimmed his fingertips over her arm before he started stroking her hair. His particular skill set didn't really lend itself well to other professions, and he honestly enjoyed his work most of the time. It was forever changing, keeping his interest and challenging him. Somehow he didn't think a legitimate job would work out as well for him. He might consider it for Ariadne's sake, or at least slowing down and being a little more selective about the jobs he took. He didn't want to put her in harm's way just because he was bored.It was a new and almost scary situation, having to consider someone else in his future. Being alone these last few months hadn't been good for him, however. He had drowned himself in work and nearly got killed in the process. He knew he didn't have to prove himself to anyone, least of all Ariadne. She had liked him when they worked together, and there had been that give and take between them that he hadn't realized he missed until it was gone. They had fit well together, and it was more than simply an attraction between them.Which really was all the more reason not to screw this up. It was a new year, a new identity, a new start. He couldn't ruin that.Ariadne stirred slightly as he stroked her hair. He liked this sense of calm and belonging, how comfortable it was to wake up with her in his arms. It felt right somehow, as if his entire life had been nothing more than preparation for this moment."Hey," he murmured softly when she shifted position and rubbed at her face. She turned and smiled at him, and there was a sudden, fierce stab of possessiveness that shot through Arthur at the sight of that sleepy smile. No one else should see that. No one else should hold her this way but him.He watched her as she disentangled herself to rub at her eyes and yawn. "This is sleeping in late for me.""It's a holiday, it should be allowed," he said with a smile, watching her stretching. He laughed when she caught him looking. "What? You're beautiful.""I just woke up," Ariadne protested."You're still beautiful."There was a slight blush across the tops of her cheeks at his quiet words, and it was fascinating to watch. He hadn't thought she would feel shy about hearing that. Arthur leaned forward, hands sliding around her waist. Their mouths hovered close to each other, just inches apart, and he was tempted to kiss her senseless. He had been holding back earlier, testing the waters. He hadn't been entirely sure if she would even want him in her life, yet had hopped on a plane to be by her side hoping she would. It was possibly the most impulsive thing he had ever done in his life.Even if she said no, he couldn't regret it.Ariadne closed the distance between them, her lips gentle and soft over his. He slid his hands up her back, pulling her closer as he touched her tongue with his. She opened her mouth wider, and Arthur deepened the kiss. He kept himself from pushing as far as he wanted to go, not wanting to scare her off.Arthur forced himself to go slowly. He could control himself enough to do this. He couldn't ruin this before it even happened, and he kept his die clenched in his fist as a reminder during their brunch together. This was real, and there was no do-over in another dream. It gave him time to really listen, and it was almost like diving into another job. His focus was on Ariadne, on the tilt of her lips as she talked, the way she gestured more wildly when excited or pushed her hair behind her ears. She had a delicate flush across her cheeks if he got too suggestive, and he wondered how far down it went. She had always picked up on things quickly, and he wondered what was going on in her mind as she looked up at him through her eyelashes."I'm sure you've been to the Louvre," he said as they walked through the streets of Paris."Sure. Every student has at some point," she had replied. Her expression was open and guileless, and Arthur had to tamp down on the urge to pull her into an alley and kiss her until she lost her breath."Let me bring you someplace better."He brought her to the Musée Carnavalet, and watched her reactions closely as they walked through the exhibits of Parisian history. She paused at the hotels the museum was situated between and seemed entranced with the catacombs. Ariadne was caught up not just in the history, but in the lines and embellishments in the designs. Arthur had been to this museum dozens of times, and liked how it was a bit more off the beaten path than the Louvre. It was still a tourist attraction, but he didn't have the same hurried feel to see everything in a day. Here, the press of history made him slow down.He needed that right now. He kept wanting to feel the texture of her hair between his fingers, or the silken feel of her skin against his. He needed to slow himself down, do this right. It was hard to remember that with the way she smiled at him, the way she cast him looks out of the corner of her eyes. His heart beat a staccato rhythm in response to her.She had the bright flush across her cheeks afterward that had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the excitement of discovery. "I'd actually never gone there," she said, crisp tones betraying just how much she had enjoyed herself. "I liked being there, seeing all those things..." She stopped and shot him a self conscious look. "It's hard to explain how it feels, standing in the middle of those catacombs. Is that silly?""It's like gravity, isn't it? Something serious and important, but you don't always have the words for why it works."Ariadne smiled. "Yeah. Something like that. Exactly."Arthur led her down the twisting maze of streets. "I'm thinking of getting a place around here, maybe staying for a while." He paused, trying to gauge her reaction. "Know any good places to stay?""I thought you were going to talk to some of your old contacts.""I'd rather get your input," Arthur admitted. "You have a better eye for living space."She took the flattery with a playful smile, grasping hold of Arthur's arm. "Well, in that case..." She smiled a bit more. "What's your price point?"Arthur shrugged. "Whatever will get me a large space that's easily defensible.""In that case, I know the perfect spot. It's been on the market for months, and I wished I could have gotten it myself.""After the payouts you've gotten, why didn't you?""It wouldn't fit my current status," Ariadne admitted ruefully. "It wouldn't be easy for me to explain how I could afford an apartment like that. And besides, I like the one I've got. It's been a good place to stay for a long time."The apartment was large, with bright sunlight streaming in through the windows. It had an airy feel to it, with subtle architectural details that caught Ariadne's eye the times she had visited it. The floors were original hardwood, polished to a bright shine beneath the fifteen foot high ceilings. The primary living space was an open floor plan, with two bathrooms and two bedrooms in one corner. The bedrooms both had balconies overlooking a garden courtyard three stories below."It's a little large for one person," Ariadne began quietly, watching Arthur's expression as he took it all in."Well, maybe you'd join me here," Arthur said, looking around with a half smile. "I like this space a lot."Ariadne blinked in surprise, lips tilted into the beginnings of a smile. "Arthur...""You'd know all the places to get furniture," he was continuing, looking around the living area. "And I'd need help decorating, you know." He looked at her, taking in her amused smile. "What? I would.""You have fairly good taste. I've seen your subconscious, remember?"Arthur laughed at her teasing. "Yes, well, it doesn't mean I couldn't use the help." He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. "It would let us spend more time together.""I'll think about it," Ariadne said with a smile.Arthur kissed her soundly, then pulled back to take in her expression. "Thinking about it yet?"She laughed. "Maybe.""I'll take that as a yes," he said, running his fingers down her back. He liked the feel of this apartment, and it was definitely the kind of space that would appeal to Ariadne. He could imagine the two of them sprawled out on a couch, or on a massive bed in the master bedroom. He liked the thought of the two of them moving around the kitchen or dining area, talking about all sorts of random things or planning their future together."It's a maybe. Pretty close to yes, but still a maybe," Ariadne clarified with a teasing note to her voice. "I may need convincing.""Dinner tonight?""Sounds like good incentive to think about it."Arthur matched her grin and kissed her forehead. This felt like a great start to a new year. The End
172367	Sams Gift	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Sam Gamgee, Galadriel", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Marta", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2004-04-15T00:00:00", "words": "1,555", "Additional Tags": "Gardens & Gardening, Vignette, Character Study, Gap Filler", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Sam sat in the boats, clutching the sides, and looked wistfully back to the shores. There, beyond the green walls, stood Lothlórien. He had enjoyed its beauty well enough, but last night he thought he was ready to leave. When the Lady had wished him farewell he had hid his eyes, avoiding her gaze. Now he understood a bit of elf-magic, and he didn't like it.But now? Now that they were all leaving, Sam craved Lothlórien's air like he never had before. No proper hobbit liked boats, whatever Mister Merry said, but Sam's uneasiness was due to more than just the water flowing swiftly beneath his boat. Lothlórien had become home, somehow. Even if this Galadriel could have sent him back in a moment, and Frodo with him -- just made everything like it had been before Gandalf found out about the ring -- even then, Sam would have ached at leaving the Golden Woods.He looked up at the sound of a fourth boat gliding down the Silverlode, and there she was. She stood, tall and white, her lord seated at her feet, with a circlet of golden flowers in her hair like a crown. No, not like a crown, Sam corrected herself. The Lady was no Queen, though she might act like one. More beautiful than anything in the Shire, at any rate. Or, at least, handsome in a different way. The Shire has its own splendour. And for a moment he caught a glimpse of what Gimli must see all the time.She didn't seem this fair last night, Sam reflected. Perilous and great, aye, but not fair."Did you not say that you had wished to see Elf-magic?" she had asked him. He and Frodo stood in the glade before the Mirror of Galadriel, now filled with the pure water of the Golden Woods. Galadriel had asked Frodo first -- only fitting -- and then she had turned to Sam. Well, did he? Isn't that why he had followed Frodo to the Mirror, to see something he knew he'd never have the chance to see after he returned to the Shire?"Aye," Sam said. "I'll have a peep, Lady, if you're willing."Galadriel smiled at him indulgently. Probably thinks Master Frodo won't look if I don't; that's why she offered, I wager. But now that she had offered he wouldn't waste the chance. So Sam had climbed up on the base -- real dwarf-make, he wagered -- and peered over the edge.At first he only saw the twinkling reflection of the stars high above. He had expected as much. But then they faded, and Sam gasped. Were even the stars going out, then? The Mirror grew grey, then clear. And then one picture after another appeared, more vibrant than the paintings in Mister Bilbo's books. Frodo asleep under a cliff. An endless stair. The Shire burning. Trees, tall and ancient, turned on their side. His Gaffer walking down the road, all his bits in a barrel, with no home to speak of. A smiling face -- Rose! And then that same face, panting for breath as one of those squint-eyed southern men ran after her!"I can't stay here!" he cried. "I can't stay. They're rooting up the whole Shire, and she --" He stopped. "They -- They've dug up Bagshot Row, and there's my poor old Gaffer going down the Hill. I must go home!"Galadriel studied him then. He saw in her ancient eyes that she knew the truth. His Gaffer was reason enough to go home, but that wasn't the real news that drove him to despair, made him willing to leave Frodo to finish the task they'd started together. No, it was the thought of Rose, with no one to protect her from horse-thieves and worse ruffians like he'd seen in Bree. He couldn't do it."You cannot go home alone," she had said then. "You did not wish to go home without your master before you looked in the Mirror, and yet you knew that evil things might well be happening in the Shire."She was silent for a moment, and her eyes filled with pity. Sam heard that voice inside his head again. What would you do, Samwise? Protect her against all that would harm her? But if evil survives, it shall destroy all the world -- including your precious Rose, and the Shire. Sam closed his eyes, trying to order his thoughts, or at least to clear his mind."Remember that the Mirror shows many things." He opened his eyes and looked up at her, fear plain on his face. Stepping back from the Mirror, he took his place beside his master. "Some never come to be," she continued, "unless those that behold the visions turn aside from their path to prevent them. The Mirror is dangerous as a guide of deeds."Sam nodded, trying hard to swallow. He'd go home by the long road, or not at all.And now the long road stood before him. When he had made up his mind not to return to the Shire but to stay true to his oath and keep Frodo safe, he hadn't imagined it would mean a boat. No matter, he supposed. Then as the Lady began to sing, he forgot all thought.If now I sang of beauty great, beyond the Sund'ring Seas,Of things that perished ere the Sun shone down on newborn trees,Would that convince you brethren brave to hold to path laid out?For what worth beauty never seen when dangers bar your route?The words were foreign, that was sure enough; Sam could not say what they meant in any sure words, but they engraved themselves in his mind somehow, and he heard a song in his own head that he thought might be what she meant to sing. Whether they were the words Frodo and Aragorn behind him in the boat heard, he could not say.And if I sang of home-bound brides who wait for your return,Of fates they'd face if you should fail, would that ease your concern?Remember then the truth I warned before you gazed in glass:For mirrors show what happens now, and also what has passed.But what shall come, few can foretell, for future's not yet here.And deeds you do down life's hard road may change what now seems clear.So recall not the sights you saw; just do what fate demands:When counsels of the wise fall short, fate falls to smaller hands.Celeborn guided the swan boat toward the shore, and Galadriel invited them all to one last meal. Long after Sam tried to recall what he ate. Elf-food, he reckoned, but exactly what was beyond him. Not the first time he forgot what he ate when he was surrounded by Elves, and comparing Galadriel to Gildor's elves was like comparing lembas to mushrooms; they both were nice, yes, but there was no comparison, really.The sun sank low, and finally the hour to leave approached. Galadriel offered her gifts to everyone. A scabbard for Aragorn, a bow for Legolas, a new belt for Boromir, on down the line… and then it was Sam's turn. He hadn't hardly expected a gift, and when the gift-giving began he didn't know what to expect. But even if he'd had some specific present in mind, it certainly wasn't what Galadriel gave him. She handed him a little box of plain grey wood, unadorned save for a single silver rune upon the lid. "For your little gardener and lover of trees," she said -- and here she smiled warmly at Sam -- "I have only a small gift. In this box there is earth from my orchard, and such blessing as Galadriel has still to bestow upon it." For that blessing I still hold, it is thanks to you, Master Samwise.Sam snapped his head up, an exasperated look in his eyes. There was that blasted voice in his head again! He wished she'd stay out of his thoughts, and talk to him like was natural. But then the words sank in. "Don't go saying that, my Lady," Sam began, "I didn't do --" But she bent down and laid a single finger on his lip.I have passed the test. I shall diminish, and go into the West. Diminish. That is where the hope lies, Samwise Gamgee. For wise I name you, more wise even than Galadriel. Hope lies in triviality not in magnificence, and that you have shown me. She continued talking, speaking words for the others to hear, even as she spoke with Sam through their thoughts.Now are you avenged for my testing you at our first meeting. You have given me a great gift. She kissed him on his brow. Hope that you shall find a use for my gift. Hope for an ordinary rest, and sleep, and waking up to a morning's work in the garden. A time beyond the Quest. I do not foresee, for I can no more tell the future than can my mirror. But if hope lasts, then you shall see your Rose again. Sam nodded. His will was set, and only death would break it. And if any of the others present had been privy to their thoughts, none there could have decided who had given the greater gift.
137348	A Heavy Morsel of Flesh	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Lord Henry Blackwood, Lord Coward", "Fandom": "Sherlock Holmes (2009)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by unsettled", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "2010-12-04", "published": "2010-12-03T00:00:00", "words": "118", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Lord Henry Blackwood/Lord Coward", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Postcard Ficlets", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	He's always enjoyed kissing Coward, kissing him helpless and bowed back, clutching and helpless, but it's even better now, now that he can break away and listen to Coward gasp and moan, wordlessly, headless of his own sounds – now that Coward can no longer interrupt those noises with a broken Henry.Maybe he does miss that, a little – but the blunt, raw feel of Coward's tongue, halved and straining, filling his mouth with silence and only able to receive, unable any longer to tease him into some slight loss of control – except that's a lie, because still, still, the polished, perfected beauty of Coward shatters his concentration, makes him cling all the harder to his trappings of control.
103974	Marked for Death	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Lucinda Scott, Rollie Tyler, Angie Ramirez", "Fandom": "FX: The Series", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Jane Elliot (JaneElliot)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "2010-07-29", "published": "2010-07-28T00:00:00", "words": "4,886", "Additional Tags": "Suspense, Adventure", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It all started with Lucinda Scott, which was a change of pace. Usually it started with Leo.Rollie was in his workshop, minding his own business, when Lucinda burst in and announced, "I need you to kill me."Rollie groaned and let his head drop down on his worktable with a thud. Across from him, he could hear Angie chuckling. "I don't want to hear it," Rollie muttered in her direction."Seriously, Rollie," Lucinda said, "it's life or death! Or, I guess, my death for my life." She started crying, which would have been moving if Rollie hadn't known she was capable of crying on cue. "This is the real deal," she sobbed. "I'm in real trouble."Rollie sighed and gave up on working for the day. "Okay," he said. "Tell me everything."It was a pretty remarkable story: Lucinda had been dating a guy named Marco Lugiano. All was going great until she found out he was connected to the mob. ("With a name like that, I should've guessed," she said bitterly.) When she tried to leave, she found out that Marco wasn't the letting go type."This sounds awfully familiar," Rollie said. In fact, he'd met Lucinda when she'd been hired by bad guys to keep him busy while they were framing him for murder. Lucinda's story then had involved a dangerous boyfriend as well."I know," Lucinda said miserably. "Only this time it actually happened."Rollie ran his fingers through his hair. "Why didn't you go to Leo?""I did. He told me that there wasn't anything he could do officially until Marco actually commits a crime around me. Unofficially, he said he'd help if you needed him.""And that help would be for when I fake your death.""Yes!" Lucinda said brightly.Angie, who had sobered during Lucinda's story, started laughing again. Rollie glared at her. "Don't look at me," she said. "When my friends need to have their deaths faked, they don't need my help to get it done."Rollie shook his head and turned back to Lucinda. "So what happens after we fake your death? It's not like you can stay in New York with the mob after you.""I'm going to Los Angeles," Lucinda said. "It's a better place for jobs anyway. And it's got to be cheaper than living in New York.""Don't be so sure," Rollie murmured. Lucinda frowned, so he quickly added, "Are you being followed? Or, if not, can you manage to be followed?""Of course," Lucinda said."Great. Pick up a couple of tails and meet us back here in three hours, okay?""Okay." Lucinda smiled. "Thanks, Rollie."Rollie never could resist that smile. "Glad to help."oooFortunately, they had a few aesthetically appealing junkers that they kept in the building to either blow up or crash and it took very little time to haul one out and rig it to blow. It took a bit longer to dress up one of the mannequins to look like Lucinda - Rollie's costume wardrobe was bare-bones since he only usually used it when Leo needed a favor. In the end, he had to settle on a shirt that was approximately the same color as Lucinda's and he and Angie went out and quickly applied some tinting film to the windows of the car. It would have to do.Lucinda showed up a bit late, as usual, but as usual she'd gotten the job done - there were three shifty-looking men in dark suits loitering on the other side of the street. Angie kept an eye on them while Rollie quickly explained the plan. Lucinda needed to take a couple of minutes for deep breathing, but by the time Rollie and Angie were ready to go, she had her game face on. "Okay," she said, moving to the front door. "Just give me my cue."Angie quickly slipped away, using the secret exit to cross to the alley on the other side of the building. Rollie watched the cameras for the thumbs up; as soon as the signal was given, he nodded to Lucinda. She immediately went out the front door, her very walk radiating terror. Not for the first time Rollie noted that she was a much better actress off the camera than she ever was on-camera.He gave her a couple of seconds, then scooted out the door as well. "Not that one, Luce!" he shouted as Lucinda got into the car, closed the door, and leaned over as if checking the glove compartment. A second later a shadow sat back up and it was only because Rollie knew it was a mannequin that he could tell it was fake. "No!" he shouted, sprinting towards the car. He only made it halfway there before it exploded in a massive fireball, shards of metal and glass flying through the air, scorching heat billowing out.As the shockwave knocked Rollie to the ground, he thought to himself that the explosion was really one of his better ones. Maybe he should keep the security camera footage for his portfolio.oooTwo of the thugs left the scene immediately, but one stuck around, undoubtedly to make sure that Lucinda was really dead. A couple of Rollie's friends from one of the eight or so cop shows perpetually filming in New York showed up in uniforms and a squad car and set up a perimeter. Leo made an appearance a few minutes later with a flashing bubble light on the roof of his car and he gamely spent nearly an hour bitching about the fact that he had to wait for a medical examiner to show up, despite the fact that the blackened corpse was clearly dead. And charred. And disgusting. And smelly. And leaking.He was still coming up with creative descriptions when the final thug gave up and left.Leo and Rollie exchanged smug smiles and went to look for the ladies.oooLucinda declined all offers for rides to the bus terminal or train station and opted to say goodbye to everyone at the loft. It was an emotional scene all around and Rollie was sure he saw Angie blinking a bit more than usual. "You be careful," he told Lucinda when it was his turn for a goodbye hug."You, too," she sniffed, stepping back to wipe her eyes. "And next time you're shooting around LA, look me up.""Will do," Rollie promised. He gave her one more quick hug and then joined Angie and Leo as they waved Lucinda goodbye.oooTwo hours later she was back. Angie had gone home for the day, so Rollie was alone in the loft when the door burst in. "Oh, God, Rollie, I screwed up."Rollie started at the interruption and dropped the test tube he had been holding. Right into the sodium bicarbonate mixture. "Oh, hell," he groaned as a bright green froth overflowed the beaker and spread across his previously pristine workbench.He turned to yell at Lucinda, but the moment he saw her his words changed to: "What happened to you? Are you all right?" He didn't bother asking why she was still in town, but that was implied.Lucinda folded her arms over her stomach. "They found me," she whispered. "I went back home for clothes and they were there waiting for me."Rollie shook his head, even as he hurried over to help Lucinda sit down on a stool near the first aid kit. "Oh, Luce. What were you thinking?" he asked as he opened the kit and started working on the cuts and bruises marring Lucinda's beautiful face. "Do they know where you are? How did you get away?""I jumped out of a car," Lucinda said. Rollie stared at her. "Hey, I said I was ready to do my own stunts.""And is that how your face got like this? From jumping out of a car?"Lucinda chose not to answer that.Rollie sighed and finished patching her up. Then he went to make some phone calls.oooAfter Leo and Angie had their chance to yell at Lucinda (though Rollie noticed that neither yelled as much as they could, undoubtedly because they figured jumping out of a moving vehicle had been more than enough of a punishment), they all settled down to plan. Lucinda provided information on Marco's habits, Rollie came up with ideas, Leo poked holes in said ideas, and Angie kept a running tally of what equipment and manpower would be needed (and compared it to what was available, which resulted in several of the proposed plans being shot down).They worked until late in the evening before Rollie declared at they were done and ordered everyone home for a good night's sleep (with Lucinda staying at the loft). He considered everything that would have be done the next day and grinned. "This is going to be one hell of an illusion."Angie smirked back. Leo just groaned and headed for the door.oooThe next day, while Angie 'borrowed' the WFOX newsroom and Leo pulled in a few favors at the morgue, Rollie fitted Lucinda for a mask. They'd done this so many times now that Rollie didn't even have to tell her what to do or where to move her head. Instead he took the opportunity to say, "You know, once we do this, you can't be seen anywhere in New York.""I know," Lucinda said, moving just her lips as the computer scanned the back of her head. "I'm not stupid, Rollie."Rollie just snorted and asked, "So how are you getting out of the city?"Lucinda waited as the scanner ran over her face before answering, "I was thinking maybe Frank could give me a ride to the Amtrak station in Newark."Reasonable enough plan. "Do you know what you're going to do when you get to LA?""Same thing I do here," Lucinda said with a small smile. "Look for roles and try to pay the bills."Rollie waited a beat before asking casually, "Are you only looking at acting jobs?""Why? You have something else for me?"Rollie shrugged. "I have a friend who runs a modeling agency in LA. She's always looking for new faces."Lucinda cocked her head to one side, then smiled widely, despite her split lip. "Rollie, are you saying I'm pretty enough to be a model?"Rollie rolled his eyes. "You know you are. What I'm saying is that I can get you a foot in the door."She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, Rollie. I'd appreciate it.""For you, Luce, anything. Except another fake death. Two in two days is my limit."As he'd hoped, Lucinda just laughed and playfully smacked him on the head before settling down on the stool so he could finish fitting the mask.oooThey had to rush to get everything done, but working under a tight deadline (not to mention potential imminent death) was a great motivator and by two they had the essentials in place. Angie was still working frantically at her computer as she edited as much of the video as she could with the material she had, and she merely waved as Rollie announced that it was time to go.Rollie didn't have time to worry - either Angie would finish in time or she wouldn't, and he trusted her to do what needed to be done. For now, he had his own role to play, one that was both dangerous and risky and they only had one shot at it. He took a deep breath as he escorted Lucinda out of the loft and to the car in the parking lot.Showtime.oooLucinda did a brilliant job of acting petrified as she hurried out to the car, moving so quickly that Rollie had a tough time keeping up, especially as he was eyeing the various shadowed alleys around the lot, looking for the bad guy that he just knew had to be there.It wasn't until they got into the car that Rollie realized that it wasn't all an act. "Luce?" he said gently as Lucinda covered her face with her hands and let out a sob. "Luce, you're going to be okay. I promise you, we'll keep you safe."Lucinda sniffed. "You know how I said I wanted to do my own stunts?""Yeah?""I lied."Rollie's heart melted a little. "Oh Luce," he sighed as he leaned over and started strapping Lucinda into her seat. There were far more buckles and latches than in a typical car and it took him nearly a minute before he was satisfied that she was as firmly restrained as possible. Fortunately that was long enough for Lucinda to get herself under control, and she smiled at him as he started buckling himself in. It was a tremulous, watery smile, but a smile nonetheless and Rollie found himself beaming at her in return. "You are something else, Lucinda Scott.""I know," Lucinda said with a sniff. "Come on. Let's go show the bad guys a thing or two."They drove north out of the city, taking their time until Angie called to let them know she was on her way. They'd decided ahead of time to use the Palisades Parkway, which was wasn't the fastest route to get to a less populated area with trees, but which was the fastest route that made sense if Lucinda and Rollie were really going on the run together.From the parkway, they got onto Highway 9W, which went right through Tallman Mountain State Park. It also was far less crowded, and it took Rollie less than a mile to identify the black sedan following them. "You know, Luce, you really need to start dating a better class of men.""Not now," Lucinda gritted out. Rollie could see a hint of sweat on her forehead and the white-knuckle grip she had on the wheel, and decided that teasing could wait for later.The moment they entered the park, Rollie called Angie, who reported that she was about half a mile back. "Frank's two minutes out and Kevin's in place. Also, Frank says you owe Sarah something really nice for agreeing to him having a second wife.""Today only!" Rollie protested. "Besides, it wasn't safe to bring Sarah into this." Frankly he was hoping that the actress could stay in the car - she'd only be needed if the thugs proved to be less than intimidated by the presence of a police officer."I'm just passing the message on, boss," Angie said. "And I'm nearly in position. You ready?"Rollie looked over at Lucinda, who still looked terrified, and then back at the car behind them, which was still black and ominous. "Ready.""Great. Ten seconds."Rollie hung up and turned to Lucinda. "Okay, Angie will be here in a few seconds. You know what to do, right?""Right," Lucinda said, her voice high and breathy. "Are you sure it'll be okay?""Relax, we've done this plenty of times." Never at quite these speeds, but Lucinda didn't need to know that. At least they weren't on the interstate anymore, and he'd taken some time this morning to weld extra reinforcements on the car's frame. "Angie's coming up behind us now. You ready?""As I'll ever be."At that moment Angie, riding a motorcycle and dressed from head to toe in leathers, pulled up next to the car. She paused for just a second before passing. "Okay," Rollie said quietly. "Pick a tree and get ready."Suddenly Angie swerved as if avoiding an obstruction on the road. She corrected, but not before moving into Lucinda's lane and Lucinda had to wrench the wheel over to the right. She overcorrected once and then overcorrected again, putting them directly in the path of a massive tree trunk. Rollie didn't have time to identify the tree before they were crashing into it.He must've passed out for a second, because when he opened his eyes Angie had stopped her bike and pulled off her helmet, and was running to the car. Rollie took a second to note that Angie had put on a black wig for this little scene before he turned his attention to Lucinda.Lucinda was lying slumped down in her seat, her head lolling bonelessly in front of her. Rollie swore and started unlatching most of her seat belts as a black sedan pulled up behind them.Angie reached the driver's side window, which had shattered in the crash as it had been designed to do. "Are you all right?" she shouted. One hand reached into the car and suddenly there was red liquid dripping down the side of Lucinda's head. "I'm so sorry," she added, her voice marginally softer but still clearly audible to anyone outside who might be interested in listening in. "There was a turtle and I didn't want to hit it..."Rollie ignored her, slapping Lucinda on the side of the face, leaving red palm-prints in the process. "Lucinda? Lucinda!""Rollie!" Angie hissed under her breath, tossing over a clear squirt bottle half filled with a viscous red liquid. Rollie glanced back to see that two men had gotten out of the sedan and were making their way to the car. Swearing under his breath, he squirted liquid into his hair until it started dripping down into his face. Hopefully they wouldn't look too closely at him.As the two men walked up to the car, Angie started babbling in their direction: "Oh, thank goodness. I called 911 but they said it'd be a few minutes till an ambulance got here and I just don't know what to do, there's so much blood and God I think she might be dead, what if I-"She kept going on in that vein, impressing the hell out of Rollie, especially when it worked and the two thugs pushed Angie aside, clearly uninterested in her.Unfortunately they were very interested in Lucinda and Rollie had to resort to batting their hands away when they tried to find her pulse. "Don't touch her! Her neck might be broken, you can't touch her!""Fuck it," the thug trying to touch Lucinda said. He stepped back and pulled out a gun.Rollie's eyes widened. "No!" he shouted, this time not acting in the least, and did his best to throw himself over Lucinda, despite the fact that he was still wearing his lap belt.Thank God, Francis chose that minute to flip on his lights and pulse his siren and pull up behind the thug's sedan.The thug immediately put away his gun as Francis stepped out of his car. "Is everything all right?" he asked.The two thugs exchanged a glance, then ran towards the car. Francis immediately made to follow, until Angie cried out, "Please, we need help!"With a very convincing show of reluctance, Francis changed tack and started towards Rollie and Lucinda. "Everything okay here?" he asked as the black sedan peeled away."We're fine," Rollie said. "Coast's clear, Luce," he added as the speeding sedan nearly ran into an incoming ambulance with lights flashing.Lucinda's lips curved up in a smug smile and she was grinning as she lifted her head. "Oh, yeah," she said. "I'm totally ready to do my own stunts."Rollie just shook his head and pulled her into a hug. He figured she'd earned it.oooSince the bad guys had made such a speedy exit, there wasn't really a need for the ambulance, but as the favors had already been called in (and it never hurt to be as realistic as possible), both Rollie and Lucinda rode to the hospital in the back. They stayed parked in the garage for an hour or so before the ambulance pulled out again, this time heading for the county morgue."Are you sure about this?" Lucinda asked, her voice muffled."I'm sure," Rollie said, his back turned as Lucinda stripped. He was trying not be bothered by the fact that there were dead bodies in this room, even if they were all safely locked away in refrigerators at the moment. "Angie's feeding them the faked news clip, but after last time they're going to be suspicious. The only way to prove you're dead is to show them your body."Lucinda just grumbled under her breath for a few seconds, then said, "Okay, I'm ready."Rollie turned to find her lying on one of the morgue slabs, the sheet haphazardly pulled up over her body. Rollie nodded and pulled out his makeup kit - they'd done as much as they could while waiting in the ambulance, but there was still body work to be done and her face needed touch-ups around the bloody mask that covered half her head. With an apologetic smile, he pulled the sheet down to her waist and got to work."Hey, Rollie?" Lucinda asked as he used a sponge to spread bluish-white body paint over her torso."Yeah, Luce?""Why is it that the only time you ever see my breasts is when you're putting makeup on them?"Rollie smiled and shook his head. "Because you and me is a very, very bad idea.""You think so?""Are you kidding?" he asked. "Between the trouble you attract and the trouble I attract, we have a crisis a week. If we actually got together, I doubt New York would survive.""Hey, some of that trouble is Angie's." Rollie raised his eyebrows and Lucinda hastily added, "And a lot is Leo's.""Okay, I'll give you that." He pulled out some shading powder and a brush. "Honestly, when we first met, I thought about asking you out."Lucinda winced. "I really am sorry about that, Rollie. I really thought those guys were on the up-and-up."Rollie bent down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "I know, Luce. But there's not really time for what ifs. The bad guys are probably heading over right now.""I know," she said with a sigh. "I just - I'm just not a big fan of dark, enclosed spaces.""No one is," Rollie said, finishing up with her torso and moving on to her face. "That's one of the reasons why this'll work. Besides, Angie disabled the refrigeration unit and rigged up a light in there, and I'll be talking to you the entire time. It shouldn't be more than a couple of minutes." The chatter seemed to be relaxing her, so he added, "Just remember to take shallow breaths from the diaphragm and, no matter what you hear, don't break character till I give you the all clear. All right?""All right," Lucinda said. Her voice was steady and her eyes determined and Rollie wanted to kiss her again.Unfortunately her lip makeup was in place so he couldn't risk it. Instead he brushed his fingers through her hair, being careful to avoid the fake blood. "You'll do great, Lucinda. You always do."Of course, that's when Angie burst into the room. "They're coming," she said, helping to dump Rollie's makeup paraphernalia back into the kit. "Hal is slowing them down, but we've only got a couple of minutes."All business now, Rollie flipped the mouth of his headpiece down. "Testing, testing. Luce, can you hear me?""Yeah," she said, her voice a bit shaky. "It's working.""Great," he said. "Don't worry, you'll be great. Remember, Angie and I'll just be over in the other room and Leo will be coming in in a few seconds. Just keep your eyes shut, your breathing shallow, and your face blank."Lucinda took several quick breaths in a pattern that Rollie had seen used countless times by actors on various sets. "Okay," she said, her voice steady again. "I'm ready.""You'll do great," Rollie said, pulling the sheet over Lucinda's head."Break a leg," Angie added cheerfully as she and Rollie pushed Lucinda's drawer back into the refrigerator unit.The moment the door was shut, they were on the move, but Rollie made sure to keep up a running monologue to Lucinda. "Okay, we're heading out of the room now. No sign of the bad guys." Loud voices could suddenly be heard down the hall and Rollie and Angie darted for the nearest door. "Uh, never mind, bad guys are on their way." He lowered his voice as the shouting voices got louder. "It'll just be a minute or so now, Luce. Get ready."The door led to a closet and, judging from the laptops and wires, was the room Angie had meant to end up in. She flipped the nearest laptop open and with a few keystrokes activated the webcam she'd set up in the morgue. "Here we go," she said softly."Luce, we've got eyes on you now, so don't worry. Everything's going to be great." To distract her, he spent the next minute or so telling her about Models, Inc. and about the interview he'd set up for her there. He saw Angie eyeing him as he spoke, but he ignored it for now. Time enough for questions after Lucinda was safely away.A quick glance at the screen showed two new thugs flanking one very angry looking and very tiny man. Rollie raised his eyebrows and shot a glance at Angie, who was smirking. "Uh, Luce, I think they're here. Get ready for the door to open in five... four... three... two... now!"The morgue attendant opened the refrigerator door and the short tiny man said something. Unfortunately there weren't any sounds coming out of the laptop. "Uh, Angie?"She glared at him. "I ran out of time."Rollie raised his hands defensively. "No problem." From her expression that wasn't nearly enough, so he added, "You did an amazing job in the time you had.""Yeah well, remember that next time when we decide who gets to ride in the stunt car and who gets to tape a fake news show, edit a fake news tape, hack a rich guy's cable system, rig a morgue for video, and then hustle out of the city to run said stunt car off the road.""Hey, you know I couldn't do most of that," Rollie said. "Well. Not in the time available, anyway.""I know," Angie said, looking a bit smug and thankfully no longer annoyed. Rollie smiled, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and gave her a quick squeeze as he focused on the action playing out on the laptop screen."Oh shit," Angie breathed as the tiny bad guy pulled out a gun and pointed it at Lucinda.Rollie slapped a hand over her mouth. "It's okay, Luce," he said softly into his headset. "You're doing fine. Everything's fine."Suddenly the morgue doors burst open and Leo ran in.A lot of silent shouting followed.Two more guys showed up in cop uniforms; the trio of bad guys promptly backed down.The tiny bad guy moved to touch Lucinda's forehead, but Leo grabbed his arm by the wrist and, judging from the bad guy's face, it wasn't a friendly sort of grip.Finally all of the bad guys left. Leo followed them out and Rollie and Angie held their breaths for a minute until Leo's voice came over the headset. "They're gone."Rollie cheered and wrapped Angie up in a hug, which she gleefully returned. On the screen, Lucinda rolled off of the morgue slab and gave the camera a big thumbs up.ooo"I'm going to miss you guys," Lucinda said in the morgue parking lot. They had all congregated around Francis's car, which was already loaded down with the luggage that Leo had picked up from Lucinda's apartment while everyone else was faking another death."We'll miss you, too," Angie said, pulling Lucinda into a hug. Rollie was close behind to get his own hug and even Leo suffered an embrace, albeit not very graciously."You be careful now," Rollie said. "And call me the moment you get to LA.""Yes, Dad," Lucinda said sarcastically, though her smile was genuine."And remember, no coming back this time," Leo said sternly. "Not for a few years, at least.""And if you do come back, you should probably use a fake name," Francis said opening up the driver's side door. "Just to be on the safe side."Lucinda considered that. "You know, I've always liked the name Carrie. Or Anne. That's pretty, too.""Hey, it's your new name," Rollie said. "Go wild. Use both."They all laughed, but the silence afterwards was awkward and tense. "I've got to go," Lucinda finally said. "My train leaves in a few hours and traffic's going to be murder.""Be safe," Angie said."Be good," Leo added."Call me," Rollie said pointedly.Lucinda smiled at them all, a beautiful, luminous smile that made her tear-filled eyes even brighter. "I love you all," she said, softly. Without waiting for an answer, she slid into the car. A moment later the car pulled away, leaving the Rollie, Angie, and Leo behind."Think we'll ever see her again?" Leo asked."Oh, yeah," Angie said, wiping her eyes quickly. Rollie put his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close."Without a doubt," he murmured with a smile.
168550	Empiricism	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Yusuf, Arthur, Eames", "Fandom": "Inception (2010)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by samskeyti", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2011-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "680", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Yusuf/Eames, Arthur/Eames (Inception)", "Series": null, "Collections": "Porn Battle XI (Eleven Days of Porn)", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	You wake."You seem a trifle cross, Eames," Arthur drawls from his chair, one leg crossed high on the other. Focus. A slim ankle, a polished shoe, a foot swinging too smooth and slow to be careless. You frown a tiny V into your brow and clear your throat. Slap at the line like it's a spider and you're a man who's not afraid of spiders, it's just this one, with its fuzz and its agitating feet. It's barely a weight on your arm but it's a presence and this is — should be — a summer day, lazy in a field of small flowers, a meadow with sun and no breeze or movement, you — him — and nobody else. It's just this footed presence, and you can't think and can't rest.Arthur coughs, short and refined, a sound that rattles once and slides back in his throat, his jaw twitches fast fast slow and his eyes fix. There's someone dull and unbearable standing directly over your left shoulder, it seems.You slap at your arm, the line pops free and you climb from your chair and walk away.It was obvious, really. Privacy was going to be the only way.We could try this in Mombasa, of course we can.Entering the embassy ballroom on the rising notes of some sonata you can't recall the name of — okay, never had a clue of — you register white gloves and brown liquor and an urbane American, again. No idea who he is with or why he came to stand precisely there, only that you turn and he is.And you're... you wouldn't say drunk. You are big-eyed and a little warm, with a thrum beneath, no, within your skin. Your tie worked a little loose and your mouth feeling bigger, more treacherous than usual, lips licked then bitten, slowly and held while your eyes never deviate from him. He can see you and you do it anyway and the fine lines of his face, his architectural brows don't shift at all.Another dream. You could call this a thing, a thing about outposts and tonic water and wide rooms with rattan fans on the ceiling. A thing about dead empires and black tie. He has a snag of mint between his teeth. If he knew, he'd be mortified. You long to tell him but you don't. You look, watch his tongue skim near and never exactly, watch him close his lips around his last sliver of ice, watch him shatter and swallow and grin as the band scuffles, tunes, begins again, the clarinetist skating over maybe sixty years of sentimental numbers. Arthur's nose twitches, his eyes crinkle and he has his hands on you like he knows how to fox-trot, like he thinks he can convince some grace and rhythm into you.It's an odd and minor miracle, the fitting together of the separately imagined pieces, the trodden toes, the elbows, the noses, chins mismatching. The skidding, sudden touch of his lips, the nick of teeth, the way your eyes hesitate and close and the way you each fit the curve of the other. Your eyelids flicker, you have a hand on the edge of his collar, a hand at his waist and it could have been a catastrophe. From across the room you look like a set of nails poised over a chalkboard. A fault-line, a trembling pen ready to record it all. The death of a spell. The band slides into another tune and Arthur half turns, steps closer while keeping perfect time and keeping your jaw still in the cup of his palm.You are dreaming. You are dreaming and I am not sentimental over accidents or chemicals.Your smile isn't alchemy. The flush staining your cheeks, your neck, the way your mouth slides hot and slick, the way his skin makes you stutter — that's all haemodynamics, exothermy, neurotransmission, what you will. Those sounds (small, ridiculous) are simple call and response. Tripwire and trigger.Sleep, dear, your imaginary hand on an imaginary cock (or mine on yours). Hush your imaginary mouth.
191807	Return of the Badfic	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": "LOTRPS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2004-03-31T00:00:00", "words": "1,620", "Additional Tags": "Bad Fic", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Badfic series", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The Dane had driven off into the sun, but managed to somehow not be burnt to a crisp by the awesome hotness of it all. The people watching attributed this to the mad artist's usual proximity to Sean Bean who is, as we all know, the hottest man alive, except for the bloke who lives along the equator, in the Mojave desert, or inside a specialty made oven. Sylvia Plath fans, eat it up.Viggo Mortensen, second of that name, pulled up into the lot of a cheap motel and got the smallest room. It was so small that it was really just a broom closet next to a very famous hooker's house of, erm, office. This resulted in quite a few cases of mistaken identity, but that's a whole 'nother story and is not suitable for children and other moralistic, upstanding human beings. And since none of you are like that, I suppose I should go on and mention how Viggo got tied to the bed by the mayor of that small town and got the living daylights shagged out of him, or how Viggo woke up to find that he was giving Brad Pitt a blowjob, or that he somehow managed to enlist in the marines while partaking of a large group orgy.At dawn, Viggo made a break for it which resulted in him tripping the trip wire. The recruiter tsked, bound and gagged Viggo, and slung him over his shoulder to bring him to the base. Poor Viggo. Getting kidnapped by the armed forces to be the slut of hot horny guys with crew cuts.I should be so lucky.But this story isn't about Viggo, who ends up spending a good portion of his time afterwards on his back. This story isn't even about the author, as much as she might wish it were so.No, this story is about Sean Bean. You remember him, he's the hottest man alive. Had a miscarriage last episode and boy is his heart aching. He seems like the kind of guy that could benefit from a large group orgy.Sadly, that was how he got pregnant in the first place. Never bottom to a sales clerk with stitches about his eye. You might just be subbing to Tyler Durden. And Tyler's a maniac in bed. Comes from all those nights fucking himself.Anyway, Sean was left destitute (but not really), sobbing on the floor of Orlando's huge ass mansion. Orlando was comforting him, but not in the horizontal fashion. More in a vertical way, but not against the wall. Just, you know, being friends, being there. And if you believe that, I have a nice bridge in New York, barely used. What do you say?Well, Karl came downstairs to find his Orli-kins with his head between Sean's legs. Sean was moaning quite like the whore Viggo is and Orli was making some very enthusiastic sounds. Then comes Karl with a huge frying pan and a butcher knife.Someone cue the Psycho theme.Karl had just discovered that morning that he was pregnant with Harry's child and he hadn't known how to break the news to Orli that Karl and Harry had had a one night stand during Peter's baby shower. Since Harry was the father of Peter's child (well, the other father), it had only been Karl's duty as a fellow Kiwi (but not the fruit or the bird) to shag him.Honest.Karl and Harry had woken up to find David and Craig between them. None of the four were quite certain why there was chocolate pudding on the walls, but each assumed one of the others had a kink he wasn't up for sharing with the class. Not that there's anything wrong with that.Karl had discovered he was pregnant quite by accident. He was in the shower, doing what many men and women do in the shower, that is, singing, when the baby poked its head up and asked him if he minded shutting up since dada had lost the key somewhere in the Mojave desert. The baby suggested looking in the oven (but first preheating it to 425 degrees) and then stuck his head back in.Karl had been so shocked he dropped the soap.There was no mistaking that it was Harry's child. First of all, the baby looked nothing like Orli. Secondly, it had a New Zealand accent.It also looked a bit like David, which Karl just assumed was because he'd slept with Sean the night before he shagged Harry, and David and Sean look enough alike to be a specialty of the whorehouse of Gondor.Not that the author has an incest kink or a Boys Being Blonde Together kink. Not at all. How could you think such a thing? Really, I must protest. And I insist you leave. Yes, now.Are they gone? Good.Let's get back to the little kiwi that could.Karl was approaching the fellating duo like the shark in Jaws except without the fin sticking up. He held the frying pan high over his head and brought it crashing down on Orli's head.Orli, it should be noted, later showed no evidence that this act had damaged his brain in any way, which caused the rest of them to conclude that Orli never had a brain in the first place.So an exhibition to Oz was planned. After all, they couldn't let an up and coming movie star go without a brain. After all, just look at where it had gotten all those Bond bimbos?After all, Sean's a Bond bimbo and he's spending his life blowing strangers because he can't admit that he's in love with his best friend.And Viggo, a Bond bimbo's bimbo, is on his knees in front of a sergeant with more muscles than the current governor of California, and is getting told he's nothing better than a maggot, drop down and give me twenty.Blowjobs, that is, not push ups.And let's not talk about the orgy they have planned for when they get Viggo sprung out of prison for talking back to a superior officer ("When I say jump, you say how high. Jump onto my cock." "How high?") but the plans had to be abandoned when it was discovered that Viggo didn't want to leave "Bubba", a man who looked quite a bit like the drill sergeant, except for a few hundred more pounds of muscle.Sean put it best. Viggo's a slut.And Viggo put it best. Takes one to know when.Then Sean put it better. Why you little ungrateful shit. I lose our baby and this is how you treat me?Then Viggo got one up on him. It wasn't my baby to begin with, you sluttish whore. Why don't you get a job?This caused Sean to start crying. What, you don't love me anymore?And Viggo broke down also, like a bad used car. I do love you, Seanie, but you were an abusive boyfriend and I'm better off without you.Sean sniffed and wiped his nose on the bars separating the two of them. Is that what your therapist told you?Viggo nodded and then cried into "Bubba". Like the rest of us, "Bubba" was sick and tired of all the angst, so he shoved the two of them into a broom closet in a cheap motel and told them to kiss and make up.Then the mayor arrived, but that's a whole 'nother story.I swear.Oh, all right. You see, this mayor was a kissing cousin of all the guys in the town hall and together they had decided...no, actually, that is another story. Let's leave Sean and Viggo and the circus troop to their bedroom acrobatics.Let's talk about Karl and Orli. After the trip to Oz was cancelled, Karl decided to do the next best thing and go home to New Zealand. He packed clothing, his toothbrush, and stuffed Orli into a suitcase as an afterthought. After all, Orli wasn't really all that necessary. He already had a blowup doll. Really, think about it, what more could Orli do for him? The young actor was superfluous in their not very meaningful homosexual relationship. So superfluous in fact that Karl once brought Lawrence Makore home for a shag instead of Orli.Oh, just face it, they're all whores.And they're having fun, in their little whore worlds.But that will soon change.You see, Peter's just given birth to the Antichrist.But don't worry. That's only going to be found out in part 57 of 113. We're still on part 2. Got a long way to go. Karl still hasn't given birth yet to the savior of humanity and no one knows that Viggo's a lesbian. And no one knows that Sean secretly has wings.That secret comes out when Fran strips Sean naked and bends him over a clothesline. You see, Fran's secretly a witch and she's been watching Sean for all this time, waiting to see when his Secret Powers will manifest. Sean's destiny in life is to aid the Antichrist in his destruction of the world.Sean would rather have a latte.So it falls to Viggo, newly revealed as a lesbian, to persuade Sean to join the side of evil, and Sean happily serves for a few years. He finally runs back to the side of good when Peter asks him to babysit.The fate of the world will end up revolving around a three year old child. But what else is new?And you still haven't found out about the werewolf on the Troy set...TO BE CONTINUED!1!!!!ONETYONE!!1!!
126817	Tell Me	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Kaidou Kio, Aoyagi Misaki", "Fandom": "Loveless", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Spirits Whisper (SilentViolet)", "chapters": "2/?", "completed": "", "published": "2010-10-14T00:00:00", "words": "639", "Additional Tags": "Hurt/Comfort, Child Abuse, Protect, Fighter/Sacrifice Bond, Age Difference", "Relationship": "Agatsuma Soubi/Aoyagi Ritsuka", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	~Soubi~I can't help but scowl at those who compare art to breathing.The very act of expression is so much more than that and thus should be treated with much more reverence than we give the involuntary and often unnoticed process of inhalation- only precious to us once it's well and truly gone.No. Art is not a common life already in existence.It is a powerful death in the making.The ever necessary ingredient for what is often more beautiful than the paint shall ever be and the gentle birth that follows in it's grim wake. Symbolism born in the yawn of an unscrupulous muse. Delicate strokes of the finest caliber pulling life from the void though no color, canvas, or skill can do justice to the images in my mind even as I look on my rendition with adoration, a darker shade to what I generally prefer for this beautiful creature but lovely nevertheless.He's crouched before a great darkness, the only light to be found in the timid undertones of his hair, flesh, and eyes. All things dim in comparison- naturally. Even the navy blue butterfly watching over his shoulder, a silent presence willing to pull him from the depths of his ill fitting canvas if only he'd grace it with a command from those innocent lips.The artist in me sighs..."You're such a perv, Sou-chan!"...for what others will clearly never understand. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- ~Soubi~Sparing a thought for where my cigarettes might have run off to I turn away from my painting and start wiping brushes clean. "I'm not a pervert.""Uh-huh." The unconvinced tone comes out a little too close to my ear as my roommate leans on my shoulder, piercings twinkling and a smoke hanging from his fingers as he points dramatically at the canvas "Then why are you always painting little boys?"I shrug his shoulder off and steal his cigarette all in the motion, greedily sucking more tar into my lungs before bothering to acknowledge the now old argument. "I don't paint little boys." Exhale. "I paint Ritsuka."Even without looking I know Kio is rolling his eyes "Newsflash, Rit-chan is a little boy.""Things aren't always as they appear and besides, Ritsuka is 17 now. He's hardly considered a little boy anymore.""Suuuure." He stole his cigarette back with a wink, warm fingers brushing against mine purposefully. "You just let me know when you're ready to admit you're a hentai, Sou-chan, and I'll take care of you."Picking up my brush again with a sudden flicker of inspiration I begin the long practiced art of ignoring my all too nosey roommate knowing he means well but that his own urges tend to speak for his thoughts and actions. That for all he does know about me there are some things he's better off never understanding- the reason I'd never touch the 'little boy' in that manner being one of them.Not without Ritsuka specifically wanting me to at least.The almost smirk dies on my lips before it has a chance to become something more, quickly replaced by a more curious but sorrowful grimace. I feel it tenderly pulling at my face where emotions had never so openly presented themselves before. He's changed me so much in so little time.Ritsuka.He's changed too but not all changes are good ones. He speaks more, smiles more, and accepts his own right to exist a little more each day. He's even started to allow himself to get closer to others but the closer he gets the more he hides... from those of us who care for him the most.Unwillingly I find my mind being tugged back to this afternoon and all the signs he's silently been asking me to ignore though some part of him is surely crying out.
107856	Once Upon A Twisted Tale	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Chris Kirkpatrick, Lance Bass, JC Chasez, Justin Timberlake, Brian Littrell, Joey Fatone", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by turps", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2010-08-17T00:00:00", "words": "10,481", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "JC Chasez/Lance Bass", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Popslash, NSYNC", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Where's JC?" Lance asked. He looked around; deliberately averting his gaze from the reflective silver of the pants his stylists insisted he wear. He shivered as he pulled them on, the material snagging at the ragged skin around his nails."He was here a minute ago," Joey said, standing still as he was sewn into his own pants. "Check the bathroom." He wiggled his hips, testing the repair with a series of high kicks that came perilously close to Lance's nose."He's always in the bathroom. I'm sure he's got that disease." Justin pursed his lips his eyes narrowed as he looked into space. "You know, that irritating bowel thing."Sitting on the floor, knee bent as he tied his sneaker, Chris looked up, his eyes gleaming. "I think you're onto something. It could be irritating bowel, or churlish pox, or even that dreaded disease, whimpering cough."Justin smoothed his hand down the front of his shirt, nodding at himself as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. "I don't think it's called that.""No shit, Einstein." Chris finished tying his sneaker and looked up at Justin. "What clued you in? Your medical degree gained through years of Bus School?""Grumpy gonorrhoea." Joey said suddenly, and shrugged away the looks he received in return. "We're talking diseases right?""I don't think JC has gonorrhoea, and even if he did, why grumpy?" Justin frowned and lowering his gaze until he was looking directly at Joey's groin. "I suppose your dick would be grumpy, you know if it was all scabby and diseased and shit.""My dick is not diseased." Joey scowled at Justin. "Stop looking at my junk.""I'm not!""Festering thrush!"Chris grinned in triumph, and Lance knew how this would go. Quickly pulling on his t-shirt, he slipped out of the room, leaving the others to discuss fictional diseases on their own.~~~~JC loved the Magical Realm. He loved that in a blink of an eye he became something more, the confines of the 'norm side' thrust aside. Coming home allowed him to feel, and he revelled in each moment, stepping back into a life made richer through soundThrilled at this return, he sang his joy; head tipped back, smile wide, arms outstretched as shimmering notes danced in sparkling clouds."So, I was walking and suddenly experienced the urge to twirl with joy."JC looked up at the sound of Brian's voice, and silvery notes multiplied and changed, easing into a song of welcome and friendship as JC's happiness enriched the air."Seeing the notes was the clincher." Brian grinned as he stepped close and pulled JC into a hug. "I'm surprised they didn't see them norm side.""You know they only see what they want to see." JC wrapped his arms around Brian, his hands pushed against the soft fur of his sweater. "It's been too long."Laughing, Brian brushed a kiss against JC's cheek. "I saw you last week.""Norm side doesn't count." Stroking his hand through the silken strands of Brian's hair, JC tugged on a small knot, pleased when it unravelled to show a floppy brown ear. "You shouldn't hide these away.""They get in the way, you ear fetishist." Brian slowly ran his hand along the length of one brown ear, picking it up so he could run the tip along JC's cheek."They're hot, man." JC shivered at the feel of fur against his skin, and the air resonated in song. Slow and heady, red tinged notes that pulsated as JC pulled Brian close.Brian laughed and grinned up at JC. "Hey now, no seducing an innocent childhood icon.""Like you're innocent.""Compared to you I'm the tooth fairy.""Like Howie's innocent," JC laughed, making notes explode in a flurry of sparkles that spun in sparkling clouds, glimmering against Brian's furry sweater and hair before blinking into nothing. "We all know what he does with that wand.""Speaking of wands," Brian leaned in, his ear soft against JC's shoulder. "I hear Justin's been having good dreams.""I keep telling you; despite what he says, Justin's wand isn't magical." JC said, waving as a family of gingerbread people ran past, their little stumpy legs blurring as the disappeared into a thicket of cotton candy bushes. "I take it he's been gossiping to Nick again.""They met up here last weekend." Brian's nose twitched, and for once he wasn't smiling. "Nick's still a little uncertain about the whole Beast thing. Not that I blame him, suddenly finding yourself a beast has to be harsh. At least we were created into this life.""It never happened before the internet," JC said, shaking his head sadly. "All those characters being created on an hourly basis, no wonder some norms end up changed."Brian laughed. "You didn't mind the internet when you visited the land of Mary and Marty Sues.""Have you seen it there?" JC asked, his grin wide. You can't move for trailing colorful hair, and the eyes, last time I visited I ended up with a sweet honey with emerald orbs and tresses the color of the night sky."Brian held out his hand. "Before you tell me her other assets, we were talking about Nick.""We were," JC agreed. "He's hot when he's un-beasty,""I'll tell him that," Brian said, rolling his eyes. "It's sure to help with his confidence issues.""Tell him I especially like his ass, it's sweet." JC paused and looked at Brian. "I wonder why Justin didn't say they met up?"Brian leaned in close, the tip of his ear against JC's shoulder. "You didn't hear this from me, but there was a little misunderstanding. One of the three pigs thought Justin had called him fat, things got a bit messy." Brian lowered his voice. "They had to summon Kevin, and he wasn't happy; at all.""I bet. Especially after he had to deal with the whole Blind Mouse and AJ fight. You know, I still think those dark glasses would have looked better on AJ.""Probably." Brian agreed. "You should have heard Kevin; his lecture about brawling with a blind mouse lasted for an hour, and then he just got worse after AJ hit Old Mother Hubbard in the ass with one of his arrows.""To be fair, falling in love with Jack Horner couldn't have been that bad, I imagine she saw more action than she'd seen in years," JC said. Blinking against the heat of the suns, he gestured toward the nearby patch of giant mushrooms. "Let's sit." Selecting a spot, he lay back on the soft purple grass, looking up at the golden clouds that hung against the bright pink sky. It was a view he missed when he went back norm side, the sky always looked so washed out there, especially when lit by only one sun. "I take it Nick got a lecture too."Brian sighed. "Not this time, he had enough on his plate dealing with his sudden excessive amount of hair.""Tell Nick next time I see him I'll sing him a new song."JC added Nick's name to his mental list. Technically, using his music on people he knew was against the rules. In reality, JC did it all the time. If he could soothe fears or help his friends with his music, he'd do it."So, Justin?"Pushing Nick's half crafted song to one side, JC looked at Brian. "There's nothing to say really. We'd been working non-stop and he couldn't sleep, even polishing all our shoes didn't help, so I got Kevin to help me send him a horny song."Brian raised an eyebrow. "You sent Justin, who at this point is travelling with Lynn, a horny song?"A note shot out, pinging the tip of Brian's nose. "Hello, she's got thousands of kids, she knows about sex.""I don't think they're all hers," Brian said. "But I see your point. So, what? You sat at the door and sang about sex?""Pretty much," JC said happily. "I had the sweetest song for him, all about shining armour and shoes. Lots of shoes.""Shoes? You shouldn't encourage his shoe thing; people don't expect to see Prince Charming wear sneakers.""He likes them," JC said. "A lot.""Before I'm scarred again by where this story is going, have you all thought more about telling Lance?"Immediately, multi-colored sparkling notes flew from JC's mouth, spinning in giddy circles around his head. Guiltily, he pushed his hand across his mouth, feeling the trapped notes tickle against his palm.Brian laughed. "I see you've still got your thing about him."Pushing himself upright with one hand, JC though about depressing things – kicked puppies, cheap wine and Tyler's toenails in the bath – until he could set aside the song and settle in the shade of a huge blue spotted mushroom, his back against the spongy stalk. "I do not have a thing, and we've thought about it, but it's still a no."JC looked away. Deceiving Lance wasn't an easy decision, especially when they all wanted him to know, but the facts remained. Lance wasn't a citizen of the Magical Realm."He's not born of this world, Brian.""Yet out of everyone, he's the one who wants to experience life away from earth." Brian's ears drooped. "Sorry, low blow. I know you've got your reasons.""We do," JC said. He just wished those reasons didn't exist. He reached for Brian's ear giving it a soft tug. "We're going to be late, there's eggs to make and songs to be sung.""Come on then, Piper boy." Accepting the topic change, Brian started to move, his ears bobbing as they walked away.~~~~JC had been disappearing often lately, in fact all of the others had. Not for long, mostly for short five minute bursts, and Lance wouldn't be concerned, except he'd walked into sudden uncomfortable silences, and overheard half formed whispered words.It made him paranoid, and he had to know what was going on.The bathroom was empty at first glace; pale green walls and dripping taps. Lance crouched, feeling foolish as he looked under the doors of the stalls.There was no one there, and Lance was about to leave when JC stepped out of the last stall. He was smiling, and for a moment Lance thought he saw flashes of light, shimmering in the air.JC tugged at the waistband of his pants, ran his hand through his hair. "Were you looking for me?"Lance frowned and looked behind JC, at the gap between the stall door and the grey tiled floor, at the space he'd looked at only moments before. Thinking about that empty space - no feet in sight at all - his momma's warnings, cautionary tales of addiction and drugs taken in seedy bathroom stalls kept coming to mind, no matter how hard he tried to keep them at bay."Well?" JC prompted.When he walked past Lance to the sinks he smelled of chocolate and fresh air and something Lance couldn't identify at all and Lance watched JC wash his hands, water streaming between his fingers, carrying away bubbles of liquid green soap. "They were making disease names up.""They were?" JC held up his hands and looked hopefully at Lance.Pulling out a handful of paper towels, Lance handed them over. "You know, you have legs.""And they're tired, I've been walking forever.""You've walked from the dressing room to here," Lance said, and took a hesitant step closer to JC."It's a long way from there to here." JC smiled and threw the paper towels toward the trashcan, sighing when they missed and fell to the floor. Bending, he scooped them up, dropping them safely inside from inches away."You're. Okay, right?" It wasn't the question that Lance wanted to ask, but it was the closest he could actually say. "It's just. In the stall. And I couldn't see your feet."JC's smile never slipped, but there was a moment of something, a frantic scrabbling instant like he'd been asked a question with no prepared answer."I had my feet on the door," JC said, and he leaned in close, his voice low. "It gave me thrust." He made a hand movement, something obscene and Lance couldn't help the mental image, trying to work out how and why and if so, why couldn't JC jack off the normal way?"Scabies rabies."Which was random and unexpected, and Lance stared a moment, allowing his brain to change direction. "I don't think two different diseases technically counts as descriptive of one another.""They're both bad," JC said, and pushed the door open to exit the bathroom. "So using one negative to describe another has to amplify that effect."Lance said nothing, sometimes it was easier that way.~~~~~Armour clunked to the ground as Justin raced toward the lake. Taking a running jump from the end of the jello jetty, he launched himself into the air, cannonballing into the pink water. Immediately bubbles burst from the surface, wobbling as they floated away."Incoming!"Seconds behind, Chris launched himself at Justin's head, and they both disappeared under the surface, only the explosion of bubbles marking their place."Aren't you swimming?"Lying on a giant leaf, JC screwed up his eyes and looked at Joey, who was little more than a silhouette against the bright lights of the suns. "Not yet, I'm going to catch some sun first." He stretched, and ran his hand through the pixi dust, the crystals trickling through his fingers."I think I'll join you." Joey sat next to JC, looking out at the lake, where Justin and Chris were playing chase with a group of young mermaids, and one squid, its tentacles waving as it talked. "Lance would like it here."It wasn't an unexpected observation, and JC shifted, the leaf spongy against his elbow and side as he propped himself up. "He nearly caught me yesterday.""He's been getting suspicious lately," Joey said. "I wish….""We all do." JC touched Joey's arm, then jumped when a strand of soggy seaweed, its eyes blinking open and shut, wrapped itself around his head. "Chris! Justin!"Scrambling to his feet, JC jumped over Joey and ran toward the lake, where bubbles clearly marked a trail. Immediately, JC began to sing, and within seconds, Chris and Justin were marching out of the water, scowling at JC as they threw themselves down onto the ground."You promised you wouldn't do this anymore." Indignant, Justin spluttered as he rolled, pixie dust sticking to his wet skin."You're taking improper advantage of your abilities," Chris said, his eyes dark against the coated pink of his face. Then he smiled, and licked along the length of his arm. "More sugar, thank you!"You're disgusting," JC said, but he couldn't help laughing when he saw Chris lick stripes along his arms, and how Justin's hair was sticking up in crusted curls, a sugary arrangement of a fro."I don't think feeding them sugar is the best idea, we need to go back soon."Smiling at the feel of a wagging tail against his bare legs, JC looked at Joey. "I suppose." He sang then, summoning clouds, their cheeks swollen as they hung above Justin and Chris, soaking them with summer scented rain.~~~~ "Joey," Lance said, and he'd promised himself he'd ask about the silences, but standing next to Joey, who was looking at him, mouth quirked a little and waiting patiently for Lance to speak, it was impossible to say the words. Not when the answer could have been something he didn't want to hear. "Have you ever jacked off with your feet braced against a bathroom stall door?"Joey loved to talk about sex. Sometimes that was annoying; especially at three am when all Lance wanted to do was sleep, but it also meant Joey would seriously consider this question now."I've done it in a stall before." Joey rubbed at his face, brushing away something pink at the corner of his mouth, his brows pulling together as he thought. "But the feet thing? No. I like jacking off without strenuous effort, or risking pushing down the walls." Frown deepening, he looked at Lance. "It doesn't have to be like that you know. Look around and you'll always find an empty room."Joey looked sincere, like he was about to launch into one of those talks. Hastily deflecting – because he could only take so many big brother birds and the bees talks, and the one with Chris, and the mango and super sized rubber, well that was his limit for the year– Lance said, "It's just, JC said he was doing it that way.""Well, JC's another matter. You know he's always talking about taking the sexual experience to the next level." Joey narrowed his eyes, and his fingers twitched as he spoke. "He's tall, if he stretched his legs and rested his ass on the edge of the seat; he could do it, probably get thrust too.""Fuck, Joey. That's just wrong." Punctuating his protest with a prod to Joey's side, Lance tried to convince himself simultaneously that he wasn't sharing Joey's mental image, and that he wasn't enjoying it.That didn't help him that night, when he was curled up in bed, his pillow thumped into submission as he forced math and verbs over the images of JC in the bathroom cubicle.~~~~The journey from norm side to the Magical Realm took all of a second. A moment alone and JC was reaching. A burst of intense concentration, and he was home, his feet stepping up from lino and landing on soft grass.Sudden appearances were usual in the Magical Realm, so much so that no one looked twice when an elf appeared out of thin air, or a fairy shimmered into existence within the blink of an eye. Which meant four people arriving at once was nothing unusual at all."You do know the concept of Backstreet time belongs to us, right?"Brian was sitting cross-legged in the grass, holding edition seven thousand and twenty-four of the Rules and Regulations for Children's Fantasy Figures . He looked relieved at the chance to snap it shut, pushing the book into his wicker basket.Chris pointed to the book. "You actually read those things?""Some people actually try to stick to the rules, you know." Brian grinned up at Chris. "Anyway, I need to study, I've decided to go for promotion. Take a step up from being a mini egg distributor.""I keep to the rules," Chris protested, and he pushed himself onto a giant yellow flower, settling in the middle and making fist sized lumps of pollen thump to the ground. "At least I do most of the time."Joey pricked up his ears, his tail swishing with laughter. "Like we believe that."Eyes shining, Chris solemnly held up his hand in some kind of clumsy salute. "But I do, scouts honour.""You were never a boy scout," JC said, singing a song that made Chris wiggle in place until the flower tilted to one side, dumping him on the ground.A picture of wounded innocence, Chris propped himself up on his elbows, scowling at JC. "You need to stop doing that, and people need to start believing what I say.""Face it, that's never going to happen." Justin said, taking off his crown and setting it on the ground. "The wolf thing sticks in people's minds.""Especially when you falsely accused my brothers of being murderers." Tipping back his head, Joey howled, a sound that made JC shiver, even as he worked in his own music, grey notes spiralling in their own version of a howl.Inching away from Joey and JC, Chris sat next to Brian. "So, you're going for Easter Bunny?""I figured it was time." Brian's nose twitched, and his feet thumped against the grass. "It's more responsibility, but I was talking to Marshall and he said being head man was worth it.""He does seem happier when he gets into his suit." JC said, and folded himself down onto the grass next to Brian. Running his hands through the blades of grass, he watched a troop of sandhelpers walk by on their way to Kevin's headquarters, all yawning, their fluffy slippers shuffling along the golden path. "How is Marshall? He must be frantic, being this close to the big day.""He's fine, bitching about growing the beard as usual. I reminded him it's only for one night, but you know what he's like." Brian laughed at the black notes JC created. "That's him alright. Which reminds me, he wants to see you, something about a song you two were working on, the one with the Kirkpatrick ass kicking line.""He what?!" Chris glared at JC.JC grinned and shrugged off the glare. "You were being an ass, and Marshall was writing, so.""He's always an ass. Ouch!" Brian held up his hand, warding off the red notes that zipped close. "Back off Piper boy. I say that with love.""Yeah right. You totally don't love me the way JC does." With affected dignity, Chris rolled toward JC, and sat close, his head resting against JC's shoulder."I'm still writing that song though." JC said, smiling as he ran his fingers through the spikes of Chris' hair."You do that," Chris said, glancing at JC. "But be prepared for inventive and excessive retribution."JC mock shuddered and orange notes quivered in the air.Chris reached up and flicked one of the notes, sending it spinning away from the others. "Laugh it up, music boy. You'll get yours.""So, how's things norm side?" Brian asked interrupting, his nose wrinkling as Justin picked up his crown, holding it so he could practice his smile in the reflection, which was an impressive sight, especially the ding of light that appeared at the end."Okay. Mostly. It's just a shock, realising how naive we'd been." JC sighed, his hand stilling. "We should have listened to you ages ago.""You had to find out yourself," Brian said sympathetically, his mouth tilted down. "It's what the Emperor does, making people see what's not there.""I should run him through with my sword," Justin said, scowling as he unsheathed his sword and brandished it at one of the mushrooms."I should tear into his neck." Teeth bared, Joey exposed his fangs and sharp claws, swiping at the grass so shredded blades filled the air."I should stab him, strangle him with his own tie, shove dollar bills down his throat, cut him into pieces and throw the parts into the ocean to be eaten by the fish," Chris said, scowling as he rubbed his hands.They all looked at JC."I'd set the FBI on him and send him to jail for a long time." He shrugged at the looks he received in return. "What? Violence doesn't achieve anything.""Maybe, but it can be satisfying. One time I was watching the sheep and this dragon flew onto the field, I pulled out my knife and we fought for almost a day. It was a close call, but eventually I emerged victorious.""In your own mind, maybe," Joey said, laughing at Chris' protest."It's all karma; he'll get what he deserves." It was something JC totally believed. The Emperor would be punished, because everything happened for a reason. It was why they'd all been reborn on the norm side as they had, and why they were making this journey that had been destined to bring then together. All except Lance. He was an anomaly in their predestined plans."I hope so," Brian said, and his nose twitched as he looked around them all. "If you could go back, knowing about all the bad, would you still sign up for a lifetime on norm side?"The immediate reply was affirmative, for all of them."Millions of girls scream at my every word, why would I give that up?" Justin asked, his smile blinding.Joey grinned, showing his fangs. "I've a family that adores me.""Sure, some things sucked, but I wouldn't change anything," Chris said. "Well, maybe being a few inches taller would have been good.""I wouldn't either, and there's Lance." JC pretended he hadn't seen the multi-colored twinkling notes that circled his head, and looked at the others. "I wouldn't give him up for anything."Joey indicated the notes. "So we see.""It's not like you're subtle about wanting him around," Chris said, grinning as the notes increased in volume and speed."You're like, the opposite of subtle," Justin said. "Still, why you'd want him when Prince Charming is around?""That's easy," Chris said, still smiling. "He's seen your sword, and you know what they say. The bigger the sword, the smaller the dick.""Really." Justin rested his hand on the jewelled handle of his sword. "I always thought the saying was the boy who annoyed the most is the boy who gets stabbed in the ass."Chris widened his eyes. "I'm flattered, J. But it wouldn't work. Different standings in life and all.""What?" Justin stared at Chris, then his cheeks flushed. "I didn't mean that. That's like, incest."Grateful that attention had shifted, JC bit back the song. Pushing it aside as the hopeless case it was. ~~~~JC loved the annual Christmas Crackers party. It was a legendary event on the Magical Realm calendar, and silver notes zipped overhead as he blew at the wispy feathers that dropped forward from his brushed velvet purple hat. Vision clear, he strutted inside, his fur cape swishing over the snowy ground.Inside he took off his hat, and handed it over to one of the elves, who disappeared into the labyrinth of tunnels cut into the walls. Ruffling his hair, he ducked as a posse of fairies flew overhead, glittering sparkles falling in their wake. Holding out his hand, he caught some of the sparks in his palm, watching them twinkle before they finally faded away."Make way!"JC turned at the sound of trumpets, unsurprised to see Justin walking between an escort of polished wooden soldiers. Their red coats shone, and their feet clumped against the packed snow, each step perfectly in sync, and between them, Justin slinked his way forward. Snapping his fingers, hips swaying, his smile wide and beaming."It's okay, I'm good from here." Dismissing the guards, Justin walked toward JC, the crowd parting automatically as he moved. Nodding his thanks, he brushed a kiss against the hand of an old crone, and didn't even falter when a young hobgoblin wearing a 'The Future Prince Justin' t-shirt jumped into his path.JC waited patiently, smiling all the while. He'd been friends with Justin for a long time now, and knew what he was really like, and usually, that wasn't regal at all."JC." Adjusting his crown, Justin tilted it slightly, finger combing the curls that stuck up behind the golden band. "Cool outfit."JC spun, making the cape swirl around his body. "I made the cape myself. I bought the furry material at a craft shop.""It looks good." Justin picked up the edge, rubbing the material between his fingers. "But you know what would look better? Some bedazzles on the edges. I could lend you my machine.""Don't do it, C! Next thing you know he'll be bedazzling your thong, and those things chafe enough."Heart racing, JC tried to pry Chris' arms from around his neck, and wished yet again that Chris would learn how to greet people without first jumping on their backs. But realistically he knew that would never happen. It was yet another impossible thing, like Britney wearing underwear when she flew overhead.Not that JC would ever say anything to Britney about her unfortunate lack of underwear. She was his friend, and the last thing she needed was yet another person interfering in how she lived her life.That decision led to a lot of lip biting when they met at Britney's place, JC sitting in the garden and talking to Britney as she perched on the roof of her house. They often met like that, discussing her need for a family and love, and JC was used to whisper soft kisses against his cheek, Britney's way of comforting when he rehashed the guilt of leading those children into the cave so many years before.Resigned to Chris hanging on for the moment, JC whistled when he turned to Joey, and saw Kelly hanging onto his arm, her red hood sparking with tiny rubies, and wearing a dress that clung to her every curve."You look amazing," JC said. "You both do.""You know it," Joey said, and cocked his hip, his chin tilted up, a picture of wolfish pride, even as Kelly laughed, and jabbed her elbow into his side."Come on, Wolfie. I want some of Marshal's famous hot chocolate.""So do I!" Chris' knees dug into JC's side, and his fingers bit into his shoulders as he scrambled down, a flash of purple following Joey and Kelly into the main hall."I take it that was Chris."JC turned to see Brian handing over his coat. Dressed in brown furry pants and a loose white shirt, he smiled at the elf before heading across to JC."No date this year?""Not unless you're offering," JC said, laughing when Brian spun and backed away in exaggerated horror."Actually, I'm meeting up with one of the elves later." Toeing his shoe against the snowy floor, Brian ran his hand down one of his ears, twisting the tip between his fingers. "She's on late shift, making Teletubbies, but she'll be here later.""Yeah? I didn't know you'd met someone new." Hand on the small of Brian's back, JC propelled him forward, heading toward the wooden chairs grouped against the wall. Sitting, he rested his hand on Brian's knee. "So, tell me."Resisting the urge to craft a song of impatience, JC waited as Brian smiled to himself, gaze far away as he looked toward the main hall."She's called Leighanne. We met a few weeks ago when I was taking my application to the Fantasy Figures hiring office. She'd tripped over one of the baby unicorns and I helped her up. She's beautiful.""And?" JC prompted, leaning forward, impatient to hear more about this woman who'd added an extra layer of happiness to his long-time friend."And I think she's wonderful. We went dancing at Toothy's Bar."The shudder was instinctive; JC had hated anything to do with teeth long before the whole Chris braces thing. He couldn't think of anywhere less he'd rather go on a date. Just the thought of the bar with its tooth shaped chairs, and toothbrush shaped straws left him feeling cold.Brian shook his head. "I know, it's not your scene, but Howie runs a good place, and when I kissed Leighanne I knew I was minty fresh.""You kissed!" Immediately JC sang a song of joy, and he pressed his hand against his mouth, the silvery notes slipping through his fingers as Brian smiled."We did, and before you ask, I'm not telling you anything else." He waggled his eyebrow – a skill that had to run in the Littrell family genes – and settled back in his chair. "Talking about kissing. How's Lance?"Resigned, JC allowed the multi-colored notes free rein, watching as they mingled with the snow flakes that fluttered through the air. "He's okay. He was reading through a book on contract law when we left." JC pictured Lance how they'd left him, glasses on, bent over a book that he was trying to understand. It made JC's throat ache, a glaring contrast to this party with its atmosphere of laughter and joy.He slumped forward, head in his hands, and the party faded as he imagined Lance, lonely in his empty room. JC could see it clearly, and he stood, kissed Brian on the nose and said, "I have to go."~~~~Roughly a third through the book, Lance thumped it shut. He didn't even know what he was doing. The legalese and technical words were beyond him.Despite knowing he was wallowing in unneeded self-pity, he slumped against the table, his forehead pressed against the cover of the closed book. These last few days had been increasingly awkward and now, sitting here alone, he was all too aware of just how isolated from the other four he'd become."Lance."Not moving, Lance looked to the side, seeing a sliver of JC's shirt, and a brief flash of his hand."Are you okay?"JC sounded hesitant, but his footsteps were sure, and he pulled out a chair, sitting down on the opposite side of the table."I'm fine." The reply was automatic, meant to be dismissive, but the longer Lance sat there, breathing in the smell of old book, the more the whole injustice of the situation hit him. Peeling his forehead from the book, he looked across the table at JC. "You know? I'm not fine. I'm sick of being left behind. I don't know what you all are doing, but leaving me out sucks."JC looked stricken, and Lance felt guilty, until the memory of curtailed conversations and time alone made him steel his heart against JC's woeful look."We're not. I mean. It's not like we're doing it on purpose. Well, we are, but we don't want to, and…""JC. Just stop." Lance was tired. He'd been getting little sleep lately and having JC scrabble to explain made his head hurt. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he waited for a moment, the unspoken words heavy between them. "Don't bullshit me on top of everything else," he said, voice rough and exhausted. "If you're not going to tell me the truth, I'd rather you leave."Tense, Lance watched as JC stared down at the table, his whole body still. Then he looked up, and even before he said a word, Lance knew."I can't," JC said, his voice low with regret. He stood then, movements deliberate. "I'm sorry.""Just go, JC."Lance forced himself to watch him leave, only slumping in his chair when JC had left the room..~~~~"I've changed my mind, we need to tell Lance," JC said, grabbing hold of Chris' arm the minute he walked into the room.Chris looked at JC's fingers wrapped around his arm. "I thought you said we shouldn't tell?""I did," JC said, and he loosened his fingers just a little, enough so his knuckles weren't blanched white. "He thinks we're leaving him out of stuff.""That's because we are," Chris pointed out."So we tell him?"Chris sighed. "Even if we do tell him, it's not like he could come with us.""At least he'd know.""That's if he believed us. What are we supposed to say? Oh, by the way Lance, we're living a double life, one where we're characters out of fairy stories, but sorry, visitors aren't allowed, so we can't actually prove it." Chris briefly rested his hand on top of JC's. "I hate that we haven't told him, but there's a good reason.""Why can't any of this be easy?" JC muttered. "Why does he have to be different?"JC's heart sank when he saw Chris' eyes widen, the way he looked past JC toward the bedroom door."So that's it." Lance was pale, expression frozen as he put a to-go cup on the dresser. "I came to apologise with a hot chocolate. Guess my timing is just perfect." He glanced at Chris then turned, walking away without another word.~~~~It was tempting to slam the door behind him, but Lance resisted. With exaggerated care, he closed his hotel room door, and sat on the bed. He stared unseeingly at the floor, feeling bruised and raw.He didn't move when someone knocked, or when the door handle jerked, and someone eased into the room. He knew they would. It was just a case of knowing who."Lance," JC said, and there was the snick of the door closing. "You heard me wrong; I didn't mean what you thought I did.""It couldn't get more obvious, JC.""No," JC protested, and he sat down next to Lance, far enough away that they didn't touch, but close enough that Lance could hear him breathe, see the way he was worrying at the hem of his shirt. "It might sound obvious, but it's not. Not like you think anyway.""So you don't think I'm different?""No. Yes. Just not in the way you think." JC reached out, his hand falling just short of Lance's leg."So what way is it then? Because we're past the can't dance thing, so it has to be something else." Angry now, Lance still didn't look directly at JC, just watched him in the mirror opposite the bed. "See, this is why I don't tell people.""Tell them what?" JC said, sounding confused."That I'm gay, obviously." Unable to sit still, Lance stood, pacing toward the window. "I thought I didn't have to, that it was one of those things where people knew anyway and we just didn't say, but no.""I think that's one of the most insulting things I've ever heard you say." When Lance turned back, JC was standing too, his hands bunched against his side. "I know you're upset, so I'll give you some slack. But you know us. Do you really think we'd ostracise you because of that?""I didn't, but…""But nothing," JC interrupted. "Not everything is about sex." He hesitated then, his lips curling up slightly. "Well, most things aren't."The sentence was so uniquely JC, that Lance couldn't help relaxing a little, his tense muscles easing. "You all started disappearing, and conversations stopped when I walked into a room.""I know, I'm sorry. We're sorry," JC said. He was staring past Lance now, as if looking at something far away, but Lance didn't interrupt, just waited him out, knowing he was about to get the answers he needed."It's true. You are different, but it's not about you being gay, or me being gay or Justin being whatever he claims to be this week." JC sat down then, forehead creased as he thought. "You're not going to believe me, but you should know. We're not the same as you. Chris, Joey, Justin and I all belong to another world.""Like I don't know that." Lance smiled, trying to believe that JC was starting his tale with a joke."No, I mean it literally. We're not like, space aliens or something. We're from another universe, one a half world away from this one.""So what? You slid through some kind of rip in time?" Lance said. "I don't care if you do think Spock is hot. You need to stop watching Star Trek marathons.""No. It's not like that. Well, it's sort of like that except like I said, we're not aliens. We're story book characters, the people from the books. At least we are over there, here, we're just us.""You do realise how insane that sounds?" Lance said slowly. "I mean, the alien thing is bad enough, but story book characters?""I know, it sounds insane, but it's not." JC thumped the flat of his hand against the bed. "It would be easier if I could show you, but I can't. Okay, right. When people first write a story, the characters end up in the Magical Realm. So, Hamlet. Lives at the Magical Realm. Lucky from the Jackie Collins novels. Magical Realm. Just not where we live. We're all characters from children's stories, so we've our own area. It's next to the fantasy figures' place.""You really expect me to believe that?" Lance said, feeling hurt, because JC trying to prank him like this was almost worse than being excluded in the first place."I know. It sounds stupid.""No, it sounds insane and I can't believe you're lying to me like this." Exhausted, Lance pushed past JC, heading for the door. "Fairy tales aren't real, and you're not Peter Pan.""No, I'm the Pied Piper, and if you'd just listen. JC reached out grabbed Lance's arm. "Listen to me, please."Lance didn't. Instead he pulled free his arm, never looking back as he left the room.~~~~JC believed that you had to take responsibility for your own actions, which in turn meant dealing with the consequences. He'd tried to talk to Lance, but each time he'd received a dismissive look before Lance had found somewhere else to be. Lance had found a lot of places to be; none of them in the vicinity of JC.What was worse, Lance wasn't talking to anyone, instead he spent his time talking on his phone to his friends, and while they were performing together as a group just fine, everything else was falling apart. JC hated it.Needing to get away, JC concentrated, and moments later, was standing on the hill that stood between the fairy tale and fantasy figure lands. Sitting, he wrapped his arms around his bent knees, looking down at the towns, even the sight of Marshall's empty sleigh led by hundreds of elves, their voices united as they sang, unable to prompt a smile.It was a song of happiness, but as much as he ached to do so, JC couldn't join in. Instead his own song was low, the multi-colored notes leaden, falling to the grass where they floundered before melting into the ground."I think you took a wrong turn the goth-suicide poetry land is that way."Two pointy ear shaped shadows slunk over the grass, and JC reached out, letting the last note slip through his fingers. "Lance didn't believe me.""Hardly surprising," Brian said, and moved so he could look down at JC. "What did you expect him to do? Believe you straight away?""He should know I wouldn't lie to him.""Maybe, but you can't blame him. If you didn't know about here, would you believe that story?""I'd think someone had been at the good drugs," JC admitted, and rested his head against Brian's leg."There you go then." Brian threaded his fingers through JC's hair. It felt nice; comforting. "You need to talk to him again; about everything.""It won't do any good. He won't believe me, and there's no everything to talk about. Ow!" JC pressed his hand against his head, against the spot where Brian had grabbed a handful of hair and tugged; hard."We all know you like him.""Of course I do, it would suck working with someone I didn't like."Brian tightened his hand around another hank of hair. "Don't make me hurt you."JC tilted back his head slightly, rolling back his eyes to try and see Brian. "If your fans could see you now. A nice guy. Ha!""I am a nice guy, if I wasn't I'd have told you to suck it up and stop making excuses.""I'm not making excuses. I have reasons." JC pointedly rubbed his head when Brian let go. "Good reasons.""No, what you have is illogical guilt based on something that happened hundreds of years ago. Something that has nothing to do with Lance.""It's got everything to do with Lance." Notes fluttered in the air, spinning in crazy circles. "Those children followed me, and I took them to a cave.""And they got lost, and they cried and then somehow they all ended up over here and Marshall had more elves. You've seen them, they're happy here.""They were happy at home with their families."Brian's ears twitched and he stood looking at JC, one hand on his hip. "That's ancient history, and has nothing to with Lance. Get over it already.""They followed me." JC felt the need to stress that, despite Brian having heard this story multiple times before. "What if Lance just wants me because he's reacting to my song?"Brian held out his hand, counting on his fingers. "One. Lance is a grown man. Two. I've never seen him blindly follow you around. Three. Stop making excuses. Face your intimacy issues and talk to Lance.""I haven't got intimacy issues. I just like to spread the love. It's just. Uh. Something I do. Sowing my wild oats.""You've sown enough oats to feed a nation," Brian said. He peered down at JC. "You need to sort this out. Talk to him, all of you talk to him if need be, because I want you all at my celebration party.""Wait. What? You got the job!?" JC jumped to his feet, pulling Brian into a hug. "Why didn't you say?"Grin wide, Brian hopped in a wild circle with JC. "Because I couldn't get a word past your all-encompassing pain. Now go, talk to Lance."~~~~Lance had been pointedly ignoring JC, which was difficult because it was the season of goodwill, and JC looked like a kicked puppy, spending all his time offering Lance cups of tea. On one occasion he even offered a plate of crustless cucumber sandwiches arranged on a china plate. Lance had no idea why, except a suspicion that JC was well on the way to a psychotic break. At least that's what the whole fairy tale thing suggested; the sandwiches were just the icing on the cucumber-shaped cake."Lance."Lance looked up from the magazine he was reading, setting it down when JC walked into the room."We want to talk to you." He stepped aside, letting Chris, Justin and Joey into the room. They all stood in a line, looking at Lance, which was annoying and kind of creepy, but Lance was made of stern stuff, so he looked right back."As long as you're not here to spin more fairy tale stories.""Erm," Joey said, and Lance felt his eyes widen, because this was Joey and while he was given to his own flights of fancy, they had never extended to deliberate untruths."If you say a word about another universe," Lance snapped, and he picked up his magazine, and deliberately turned the page."You need to listen to us." Joey stepped forward and plucked the magazine from Lance's hands. "I know it all sounds unreal, but you need to try and keep an open mind."Lance wondered about the possibility of mass hallucinations, because Joey had none of his usual tells of a joke. No twitching of his mouth, or a gleam in the eyes that suggested he was laughing inside."We wouldn't lie to you." Justin sounded painfully sincere, and Lance would have been convinced if he hadn't seen Justin lie bold-faced to the press. "What would it take to make you believe?""What? That Chris is Rumplestilskin and JC's Peter Pan?""Wait. Rumplestilskin? He's short and mean and." Chris paused then, lips pursed. "Okay, I see your reasoning, but still. I'm The Boy Who Cried Wolf. Not Rumpleskinskin.""Of course you are," Lance said, and he pointed at Justin. "And I suppose you're The Frog King.""Close." Justin puffed out his chest and waved his hand as he bowed. "Prince Charming at your service."Lance suspected he was going mad, because he knew his friends, and there was an air of sincerity to them all. "Prince Charming," he said weakly, and for a moment he thought he saw a flash of light when Justin smiled. "I guess I can see that. You're vain and destined to rule the world, so Prince Charming. Chris lies….""And likes sheep," Chris broke in, grinning wolfishly."And likes sheep, so he's The Boy Who Cried Wolf. I suppose Joey's The Woodcutter from Snow White," Lance said.Joey's lip curled. "As if. That guy's as dumb as a brick. I'm The Big Bad Wolf.""But you're not evil." Lance heard his words, and couldn't believe he was actually discussing this. It was like he was stuck in a vortex where the madness was catching, and he'd been exposed."The Big Bad Wolf is very misunderstood," Joey said, frowning at Chris. "Of course, some people don't help that reputation. You watch, one day I'll make a movie and show the world wolves aren't that bad."Lance had been looking at Joey, and was surprised when JC sat next to him, so close they were pressed together."I'm the Pied Piper. I like to make music." He smiled, open and unguarded and Lance couldn't help leaning into him, enjoying being so close. "So you believe us?""I believe you believe," Lance said, surprised to find that was true. Then jumped when Joey suddenly slapped his hand against his own forehead."We're morons. Lance, watch this."Lance watched, his mouth falling open when Joey suddenly disappeared."How did you do that? It's a trick right? Mirrors from the prop department?" Lance stood and waved his hand across the empty space, despite knowing they had nothing in their budget that could account for this."He's gone to The Magical Realm," Justin said, and he grabbed Lance's hand, stopping him from waving it in place."He'll be back soon." Chris anticipated Lance's next question, and he wrapped his fingers around Lance's wrist while looking at JC. "I've been talking to Brian, and he said there's nothing in the rules about norms crossing over, they just have to believe, kind of a Tinkerbell kind of thing. You know, clap if you believe in fairies. If Lance believes we might be able to take him over.""That would be cool!" Justin's smile was blinding now, and Lance blinked, momentarily sure he saw a ring of gold nestled in his curls."I could show him my songs, and the mouse houses, and we could go to Brian's party." JC was almost vibrating in place, happiness contagious, and Lance couldn't help a spark of excitement, even though he felt foolish standing in the middle of a hotel room, his friends surrounding him and grinning like loons."We need to wait for Joey I think, once he's back we'll grab on and just go." Chris moved so he was standing in front of Lance. He looked at him, gaze serious and intent. "At the risk of sounding like Fox Mulder, you have to believe.""I'll try," Lance promised, a promise that was strengthened when Joey suddenly appeared, looking happy, the washed out imprint of a waving tail and pointed ears fading into the air."Joey, we're taking Lance with us," JC said, and wrapped his fingers around Lance's upper arm.Immediately, Joey did the same, and Lance felt stupid and scared and kind of crazy as he stood still, his friends all holding tight to his arms.Nothing happened. Despite intense concentration, despite the way all four screwed up their eyes, nothing changed. Then, just as he was about to speak, the room began to fade.Heart racing, Lance tried to remember how to breathe as reality blurred, colors swirling and the floor dissolved under his feet, leaving him falling into space.He landed on purple grass, under a pink sky with multiple suns, all pulsating with color. He looked at bushes topped with cotton candy, huge mushrooms and tiny houses built under sprawling trees, their fluttering birds attached to the branches instead of leaves.Lance reached out his hand, and a bird wing fluttered against his fingers."You were telling the truth.""Told you."Tearing his gaze from the surrounding, Lance gasped when he saw Chris, smaller and younger and dressed in ragged clothes. At Justin, dressed in purple satin, a jewelled crown on his head, his white sneakers almost hidden in the purple grass. At Joey with his pointed teeth and ears, his muzzle long and a tail swishing through the air, and JC, who smiled, a stream of multi-colored notes floating from his mouth."You're taking in music notes." Lance stood still as the notes ticked across his face."You get used to them." Chris grabbed a note, popping it between his thumb and forefinger. "Come on, Brian's waiting."He ran, Justin and Joey chasing behind as they disappeared along a golden path that wound into the thicket of bird trees."Brian?" Lance asked, and there was so much to see, to take in, that he couldn't stop looking around, even when JC still held onto his arm."Littrell. He's the Easter Bunny." JC grinned, looking proud. "Or he will be soon anyway, he takes over the job this week.""The Easter Bunny is real, and it's Brian." This was information that Lance hadn't expected, not that he'd expected any of this, and really, when it came down to it, was Brian being a rabbit any more unusual than Joey being a wolf?"Well, no. Like I said, not yet," JC said. "He's still a minion bunny at the moment, producing the eggs and distributing them. None of the high up stuff.""Wait, back up a moment." Lance stopped JC walking forward. "What do you mean produce the eggs?"JC laughed. "How do you think he gets that jaw line? It's all the clenching he does."Which was more than Lance needed to know; ever, and he vowed to never touch chocolate again.JC was beaming. "You'll get used to it. Wait until you see Kevin in his tutu."Horrified, Lance couldn't help picturing just that, and immediately, JC began to laugh, making the bird leaves explode in a flurry of flapping sound."Your face!" He leaned forward, arm pressed against his stomach. "You should have seen yourself." He stood, and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. "Kevin's the Sandman, he puts people to sleep.""Ass!" With a last mental shudder, Lance started to follow the others along the path, then stopped when JC didn't move."Lance," JC said, all laughter gone from his expression. "I think we need to talk."Lance itched to explore, but he could hear the uncertainty in JC's voice. It made his stomach clench, an all too familiar feeling in this new world, and months of bitter disappointments made him steel himself for what JC was about to say."It's just. Uh. I get the feeling that you kind of want something. Like, something I can give and I could be wrong, and if so, I'm sorry because hello, embarrassing, but I don't think I am," JC said, and he looked at Lance, like he should have a clue what he meant.Lance didn't. Despite years of deciphering JC speak, the words were mixed, their meaning unclear. "I don't have a clue what you just said."Frustrated, JC tried again. "I like you, a lot."Which was more than clear, but Lance knew that for sure when JC began to sing. His song was warmth against Lance's skin, golden notes and confessed fears. Lance listened, and drank in the naked trust exposed in each sound."Lance." JC's song had ended, and he sounded exposed without that background of sound. "I really like you.""Well that's good, because it would suck if you didn't," Lance managed to say, and he was impressed with himself, that he managed actual words when JC's hand was so warm against his neck."It would," JC said, stroking along the underside of Lance's jaw, catching at the slight stubble.The kiss wasn't earth shattering, a slight brush of lips, JC's tongue sliding against Lance's. Gentle and giving an expression of friendship and love."I've wanted to do that for a long time," JC admitted."Me too." Feeling daring, Lance grabbed JC's hand, and pulled him down to the grass, pushing at his chest so JC was lying on his back. Laughing, JC's eyes were crinkled as he looked up and his hair mingled with the purple grass, a sliver of skin exposed where his shirt had ridden up.Lance didn't have to hear the song, or see the explosion of notes overhead to know JC was happy, he could tell by the way he was looking at him, like something he'd waited a lifetime for had come at last."Come here," JC said, and Lance need no urging. Kneeling, grass tickled against his wrists as he leaned in and just seeing how much JC wanted this, the way he licked at his lips and the way he burrowed his hand under Lance's shirt, his fingers warm, made Lance's heart race.This second kiss was longer, deeper, and Lance shivered as he realised that JC was heat and love and continuous internal song. Lance could feel it against his mouth and finger tips, an internal tune that only he could share."Thank you," JC said, and his hand was still against Lance's jaw, holding on as golden notes fell around them."For what?" Lance asked, loving that he could reach out and touch."For helping me move on." JC looked at Lance. "When a book is first written, we're created from those words. You'll know the story of the Pied Piper, I led those children away." He looked away then, staring up at the sky. "I felt guilty as soon as I left them, but I couldn't do anything about it, it wasn't my story to tell. Not then anyway."Lance rested his hand against JC's shoulder. "But, if you have to do what's written. How can it be your fault?""It's not, but all I could remember was the sound of their screams as I left them." JC closed his eyes, and sighed. "The children were okay, they got picked up to be elves, but still, I always hear those screams; they're the backdrop to my songs. At least they used to be." He opened his eyes. "I can hear you now.""I'm glad," Lance said simply, pleased at JC's admission, and then jumped when they heard a crash, and the bird trees fluttered to the sounds of thousands of wings. "JC!" Joey's tail was sticking straight behind him, his ears pricked high. "There's been a thing. Dasher, he overindulged on ale again and passed out in the stable with Miss Muffet's spider."Immediately, JC began to run, Lance following close behind."Dasher is real?" Lance said, yelling above the high-pitched wailing that seemed to originate from the other side of a tall hill."Of course he is." JC looked back, frowning as if Lance had asked something stupid. "You've seen Dre plenty."For a moment Lance slowed, trying to imagine Dre as some kind of deer, but gave up when his head began to ache, the jolts of pain thumping in time with the increasingly loud wails. It didn't help his whole body was itching, and he raked his nails across his arms, scratching hard as they joined a stream of toy soldiers, and a flock of fairies, who swooped past Lance's head.As they ran the ground turned from grass to snow, and Lance couldn't help his gasp of surprise when he saw the city before him. A huge glass building dominated the high ground. Inside Christmas trees floated through the air, rotating, their lights blinking in sequence. But it was the chaos outside that caught his eye.A snow packed field was streaming with elves, their feet crunching and their hands waving in the air. In the middle of the mass of small bodies was a sleigh, painted gold with red stripes, presents piled precariously in the back. In the driving seat stood Eminem, fatter and with a lot more curly white hair, but the blue eyes were obviously his, and he scowled as he tried to get seven reindeer to pull the sleigh.They all tried, snorting and rearing, the bells attached to the harnesses jingling with each curtailed try, but the sleigh went nowhere."Fuck this fucking fucker!"Hearing Santa swear was enough to make Lance stop in place, stumbling a little when a giant spoon ran straight into his back."Lance, come on, we're going over to Toothy's. Kevin's ringing around to try and find another reindeer."JC held out his hand, waiting for Lance to move, but Lance remained still. He felt sick, like fire was coursing through his veins, but somehow he knew he had to remain here, despite the way JC was beckoning for him.Then suddenly, Lance's legs turned to jelly, and he collapsing forward, landing on his knees and hands, except suddenly, they were changing. Terrified, he watched as his hands shortened, becoming solid, his fingers massing together, and he gasped, his breath icy as he felt his rib cage expand. His senses were becoming pin prick sharp; the scent of fear, the cold of the snow, his friends gathering around, their hands hovering close. Head bowed, he tried to control his thundering heart, even as he pushed up on slim legs and looked out at a world devoid of color. Yet somehow, despite the fear and the uncertainty, he knew that this was right. Lance could feel it, something deep inside, warm and welcoming, like he was easing into a world he hadn't known he'd left."Lance?" JC took a step forward, and tentatively ran his hand along Lance's back. It felt good, the touch one of concern, warmth and love, and Lance pushed into it, before moving forward, unsteady at first, then more confident, his hooves digging into the snowy grass.When he turned, he tossed his head, snorted when he tried to talk, and looked at his four best friends. They were all watching him, obviously shocked, but there was also dawning understanding as Lance inclined his head; because suddenly, he knew what he had to do.A last look, and he walked toward the sleigh, taking a place at the head of the line. Immediately a group of elves fastened the harness to his back, and a fairy perched on his antlers, her wings scattering sparks as she attached bells that jingled as he moved.Lance tossed his head, excitement building, aware that everyone was watching as Marshall yelled, "one minute to go!"JC ran forward then, and crouched, pressed a kiss against Lance's nose. He smiled and ran his hand along Lance's neck. "I always knew you were magic."He stepped back then, taking his place next to Chris, Joey and Justin, and all three stood watching as Marshall cracked his whip in the air.Heart racing, and knowing this was exactly where he was meant to be, Lance surged forward, and took off, his hooves kicking as he flew into the air.In seconds they were airborn, swooping low, over the crowds of elves, the magical beings, and most important of all, his friends. All of them smiling, waving as Lance led the sleigh, heading into space at last.
151935	just like heaven	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Smallville RPF", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Shellah (trinaest)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2003-05-21T00:00:00", "words": "100", "Additional Tags": "Community: rps100", "Relationship": "Michael Rosenbaum/someone", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Michael slid into bed with a sigh. The flight from London had been long and it was late when he got home. He'd dropped his suitcases just inside the door and left a trail of clothes en route to the shower.He rolled onto his side, running one hand down the smooth, muscular back before him, kissing the back of the strong neck. "Hey," he whispered, "miss me?"Michael's companion turned to face him. "Always." He paused. "Did you really go dancing at Heaven?""No." Michael pulled him closer. "Wouldn't have been much fun without you, so I didn't bother."
10191623	Sweet Home Alabama	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Sebastian \"Bass\" Monroe, Bass Monroe, Rachel Matheson, Charlie Matheson, Danny Matheson, Ben Matheson, Miles' Parents", "Fandom": "Revolution (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Melanie_Mikaelson", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "3,273", "Additional Tags": "Car Accidents, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ghosts", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Sebastian \"Bass\" Monroe/Miles Matheson, Miles Matheson/Bass Monroe", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Why are we even going, Bass?" Miles grumbles, looking over at Bass in the passenger seat. Bass looks up from where he’s fiddling around with his phone. “Because it’s your families annual Christmas party and you haven’t seen them in four years, babe” Bass smirks, biting down on a Twizzlers before offering one to Miles who leans over and grabs it with his teeth.“Yeah well, you’re my family Bass” Miles smiles over at Bass who grins around his cherry Twizzlers, “Oh stop it before you make a girl blush” Bass grins slapping Miles’ thigh playfully. They drive quietly for a few more minutes, and it's not long until Bass starts to fidget in his seat. Miles ignores it for a while knowing Bass is about to start complaining in 3.2.1"Milesssss, I'm bored" Bass groans out, trying to find a comfortable spot. Miles laughs and glances over at Bass cheekily."You do realise you're the one who RSVP'd back and said we would come so now you can sit there and stew in boredom. Just remember we could have been spending Christmas in a more exciting fashion" Miles finishes by running his finger up the inside of Bass' thigh.Bass groans softly, thudding his head against the head rest "Fuck, I'm an idiot" Bass huffs and glares at Miles who winks over at him playfully.Bass turns in his seat, so he's facing Miles, "I just wanted you to be able to spend some time with your family, I know you miss Charlie and Danny, and if it means I have to endure Rachel's glares from across the table then so be it. Don't ever take seeing your family for granted Miles" Bass smiles sadly, looking down at his hands.Miles alternates watching the road and glancing over at Bass, grabbing Bass' hand in his own and squeezes it. "Okay Bass, I promise. They'd be so proud of you Bass If they could see the man you've become. I love you" Miles brings his Bass' hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles softly.Bass looks up at Miles and smiles "Thank you, I love you too".Bass sits back in his seat "Enough of that sappy shit" Bass laughs shaking off his moment of bad memories "We need music!" Bass announces, leaning over to fiddle with the stereo until he finds a song that suits his liking."Nope, nope, hell no, yeah not happening, Nah. YES!" Bass grins as he flicks through the tracks until he finds 'Teenage Dirtbag' by Wheatus."Really Bass? Why are you so obsessed with this stupid song" Miles groan, changing lanes. Bass ignores him and continues belting out the notes as loud as he can, drumming his hands on the dashboard. The car ride continues like this for the next two hours, the two of them singing off key, albeit reluctantly on Miles behalf - or so he likes to make Bass think. But it's one of his favourite things to do because it always makes Bass happy - and eating their snacks as the sky gets darker and darker.Miles' phone starts to ring so Bass answers it for Miles and connects it to the cars Bluetooth. "Hey Miles, it's Ben, I'm just wondering how far away the two of you are" Ben's voice echoes through the car."We're about thirty minutes away, Ben. So you can tell Rachel to stop her complaining" Miles grits out, ignoring Bass who's trying to stifle his laugh. Miles looks at Bass and counts down three fingers and just as he puts the last one down Rachel's voice echoes over the phone "Just hurry up and get here before the food goes cold" Rachel bitches."Sure thing your majesty" Bass says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. They end the phone call after a few more minutes of listening to Ben and Rachel bicker before they finally get to hang up."I can't wait until we get to go home," Miles and Bass say in unison before laughing.The familiar notes of 'Sweet Home Alabama' flood through the car, this song had always been one of their favourite songs because it was one of the only movies they got to watch overseas during their first tour.Bass beams over at Miles "Sing with me!" he yells, turning the volume higher. Miles can't help but grin and join in at Bass' enthusiasm. Bass opens his mouth and belts out the first lines. "Big wheels keep on turning, Carry me home to see my kin, Singing songs about the Southland. I miss Alabamy once again, And I think its a sin, yes!" Bass sings before turning to point at Miles to sing the next verse. Miles laughs before belting out the lyrics as loud as he can "Well I heard mister Young sing about her. Well, I heard ole Neil put her down, Well, I hope Neil Young will remember. A Southern man don't need him around anyhow". Bass laughs wildly, his eyes brimming with Joy as he watches Miles sing. They pull up at a busy intersection waiting for the lights to go green just as the chorus starts. Miles and Bass turn towards each other as they cheesily belt out the lyrics, drumming along on the steering wheel and the dashboard to the beat of the song. "Sweet home Alabama, Where the skies are so blue" Miles sings the first line smiling at Bass who's watching him with love and adoration."Sweet Home Alabama, Lord, I'm coming home to you" Bass sings the last line of the chorus and then all of a sudden their car is hit from behind and lurching forward into oncoming traffic.Their car is clipped in the back causing it to roll and flip a few times before coming to a stop upside down in the middle of the busy intersection. Miles groans out in pain looking around, trying to gather himself before he panics remembering Bass was with him. Miles glances over at Bass with wide eyes, who is staring at him in shock and moaning in pain, blood dripping down the side of his face. Glass litters the road and inside their upturned vehicle. "You okay?" Bass chokes out grimacing over at Miles who nods, "Yeah...Yeah, I'm good I think". Suddenly Miles'eyes widen and Bass cranes his head to see a truck heading straight for them, the headlights illuminate Bass who turns to Miles with wide eyes "I love you" Bass whispers as Miles screams "Bass!".And then it happens in slow motion. The truck beeps it's horn furiously and tries to slam on its breaks, but it's not quick enough. It slams into Bass' side of the car with a sickening crunch and screech of metal on metal.Their car is flipped sending it careening up into the air yet again before it slams into the concrete and slides across the ash vault until it finally smashes into a light pole with a crunch. Miles sits on the kerb of the road holding Bass tightly in his arms as the two of them watch the flashing red and blue lights in fascination as the sound around them fills with sirens and yelling.Bass leans back into Miles' chest and huffs "Rachel is going to be so pissed that we're late". Miles laughs watching the chaos around them in wonder, resting his chin on Bass' soft curls "Yeah" he laughs, agreeing with Bass. "Everything hurts Miles" Bass suddenly groans, causing Miles to look down at him, his eyes widen when he sees the all the blood covering Bass from head to toe. It looks like he went swimming in a pool of it."Bass?" Miles chokes out, clutching Bass tighter to his chest."Don't leave me, Miles, Please don't ever leave me!" Bass shouts over the growing sirens. "I'll never leave you, Bass, as long as I'm alive, I'll never leave you!" Miles says, fighting the fading of his vision. Before everything goes dark, he hears Bass screaming his name."We're losing him!" the young paramedic calls to his partner, trying to revive the man in his care, he quickly charges the defibrillator before bringing it down on the man's chest, causing him to arch before collapsing back down on the bed. Jerry leans down and puts his fingers against his patient's neck, feeling for a pulse, he grins when he finds a small but thriving pulse. Jerry turns to his partner "Drive faster! I've got a pulse" he calls out.Suddenly his patient's eyes are blinking into awareness, Jerry leans back and sends a prayer to the man upstairs. Miles blinks in confusion as he opens his eyes to see someone leaning over him. "Welcome back" the man who is leaning over him smiles. "W-what?" Miles struggles to understand what's going on around him.Jerry puts his hand on the man's chest and gently pushes him down when the man tries to sit up. "Hey, I need you to stay calm, okay, you've just been in a serious accident okay." That's when everything comes flooding back to him like a freight train. Bass and he driving to his brother's house for Christmas. Bass and he singing songs. The two of them pulling up to the intersection. The two of them singing 'Sweet Home Alabama' the hit from behind pushing them into oncoming traffic. The sound of a blaring horn, Bass whispering "I love you" then nothing. Bass. Oh god, Bass! Bass was in the car with him!"Bass?" Miles chokes out, trying to sit up. "Where's Bass?" he frantically asks ignoring the paramedic's pleas for him to stay still and calm. Miles pushes against the man's hands and looks around the ambulance. Jerry tries to position himself in front of the desperate man in front of him, but it's too late. Miles has already seen. That's when Miles sees him. That's when his heart stops beating. That's the moment his whole world came crashing down around him."Bass? Bass?" Miles chokes back looking at the bloody hand hanging limply off the bed beside his own. He would recognise those gorgeous long fingers anywhere, even as blood covered as they are.Miles fights against Jerry's hold as he tries to get to Bass' side. His hand grabs Bass' limp one briefly, but his grip slips from the blood. Miles can't take his eyes off the blood stained blanket covering the love of his life's body."BASS! BASS BABY PLEASE! BASS!" Miles screams, begging to hear Bass' voice. Hoping that this is just a dream and Bass is sleeping soundly beside him in bed, Anything but this.Jerry fights to keep the man from hurting himself further. Seeing no other choice, he quickly grabs a sedative and pushes the needle into the wild man's bicep.Miles is sobbing at this point, screaming for Bass over and over again as he continues to fight the sedative and the paramedic's arms. His vision begins to fade into blackness, but he doesn't give up on trying to get to Bass. "I can't leave him. I promised I wouldn't leave him! I'm sorry Bass! I'm so sorry! Oh god, Bass. Bass please" He sobs, and finally, he grasps Bass' hand in his weakening one, Feeling the matching ring on his left hand. The last thing he sees before his vision fades is the light glinting off Bass' blood covered wedding ring."Bass..." then everything is dark. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Miles moans and shifts on the bed softly, feeling an uncomfortable ache in his body. Miles groans when he hears voices calling his name somewhere far away. Miles shifts his head in the direction of the closest sound and feels pressure around his right hand. He slowly blinks into awareness and quickly snaps his eyes shut when blinding light stings his eyes. "Hey Miles, cmon little brother. That's it" Miles hears his brother's voice which gives him the motivation to open his eyes against the blinding light. He can faintly see the silhouette of someone standing next to him, but everything is too blurry, so he shuts his eyes and tries again. This time when he opens them the figure comes into focus slowly. "B-Ben?" Miles rasps out, voice rough from his dry mouth, confused as to what his brother is doing here. Ben smiles sadly at his little brother and quickly slips some ice chips onto Miles' tongue."Welcome back, little brother," Ben says with a smile, but it's not right. There's a tightness to his body.Miles slowly looks around the room spotting his family members sitting around him. Everyone's here. His parents, Ben, Rachel, Charlie and Danny but the one person he wants isn't. Frowning Miles looks around the room for Bass, who he can't see yet.His family notice Miles is looking around the hospital room for a certain someone, and they try to bite back the tears when Miles frowns confusedly at the door."Miles..." his brother Ben starts, but Miles ignores him in favour of looking at the door just as Bass waltzes in the room."Bass...I was wondering where you were" Miles grins happily, ignoring the pain it causes from the bruises and cuts littering his face.Because he's too busy focusing on Bass he doesn't see his families faces pale and look around the room at each other in confusion nor when his father slips out the door to get a doctor.Bass sidles up to Miles bed and grins down at Miles looking as beautiful as ever. "Hey, baby, glad to see your awake" Bass whispers sitting on the window sill beside his bed. "What happened Bass, why am I here?" Miles asks looking at Bass who smiles sadly, "You were in an accident Miles. But you're alive, and that's all that matters" Bass smiles standing up and walking over to place his hand over Miles' heart."Uncle Miles?" Charlie's scared voice brings his attention to his fifteen-year-old niece."Yeah Charlie?" Miles asks, looking at his niece's pale face then glancing around the room and seeing everyone's face matching Charlie's.Miles panics thinking he's lost a limb or something, but when he looks down at himself, everything seems intact."Who are you talking to?" Charlie asks much to Miles' confusion.\"Don't be rude Charlie, I'm talking to your uncle Bass" Miles frowns at her before looking over at Rachel with a furious face "How dare you make your children treat Bass like that" Miles snarls at the pale women with tears running down her face. "Miles, It's fine" Bass smiles sadly down at Miles. Miles is about to reply, but his father and a doctor rush through the door."What's going on?" Miles ask getting angry with the way everyone is acting towards him and Bass. "Mr Monroe-Matheson, you were in a severe car accident last night at 7:30 pm at Henrikson Intersection. Your car was hit from behind forcing you into oncoming traffic when a truck slammed into the passenger side of the vehicle instantly killing Sebastian Monroe-Matheson, you're very lucky to be alive, sir" The doctor finishes.Miles grows pale, as he looks around the room at his families tear streaked faces."What no, that's not true! Bass is right there" Miles shouts turning to point at Bass, but he chokes on a sob when the once clean and well kept Bass is standing next to him Soaked in Blood, which is pouring freely from multiple places on his body but mostly from his head. His right arm is mangled beyond repair; the same goes for most of his body. Miles has to look away because he can't stomach seeing his husband like that."No, this is just a horrible and sick nightmare" Miles chokes out, but he knows that it's the truth because when he saw Bass like that the memories came flooding back. Everything came flooding back. "Miles...It's okay. I'm not alone. I have my family waiting for me, just as I'll be waiting for you when you're time comes. And it won't be for many years" Bass smiles down at Miles. "Miles look at me, please" Miles shakes his head because he doesn't, he can't see Bass like that again. "Please Miles" Bass begs, and because Miles has never been able to tell Bass no, he finally turns to Bass.Bass looks like he did the day Miles proposed to him and it crushes Miles' heart "Promise me, Miles. Promise me you'll move on and you'll find a way to be happy again. Promise me you won't do anything stupid. Because if I see you upstairs early, I'll kill you myself" Bass smiles sadly, tears streaming down his face now. Miles chokes out a sob "I'm not promising that Bass. I can't leave you alone; I promised you I would never" Miles cries. Bass smiles sadly, and then suddenly the faces of Bass' family surround Bass. "I'm not alone Miles. If you love me, then promise me you'll move on and live a full life, finish our bucket list but most of all just be happy okay Miles. I love you so much, and I'll be waiting at those gates for you when your time comes" Bass promises."I promise" Miles sobs, and with that Bass leans down, kissing him one last time before disappearing.Miles cries like he's never done before. He cries until there's nothing left to cry anymore.His family hold him through it all, and when his mother places something in his hand, he looks down, and his heart shatters into a thousand pieces. It's the ring he gave Bass on their wedding day. Miles flips it over and looks at the carving on the side of the ring.'Wherever you are, you'll always be in my heart, for I am eternally yours for we are two souls but one heart. Forever yours.' Miles holds it against his heart and cries over the loss of the love of his life, his soulmate, his brother, his partner in crime, his whole world but more importantly the loss of the other half of his heart.----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------50 Years Later - "I told you I would be waiting for you when your time came." Miles turns around when he hears the most beautiful voice he's ever heard, the voice he hasn't heard face to face in over 50 years. Sure he had videos of Bass to torture himself with over the years but hearing it in person was everything he'd wished for since that dreadful day."Bass" Miles grins running into his lover's arms when he sees Bass standing a few metres in front of him not looking a day over 26, the age he had been when he was killed. Bass captures Miles frail old body in a tight and warm embrace. "I love you so much" Miles whispers against Bass' soft curls. "I love you too, Miles" Bass grins, then he reaches down and grabs Miles old and frail hand. Miles watches in amazement as his skin turns young and youthful again. "What? How?" Miles asks baffled."We have an eternity to spend together Miles; we can do whatever we want" Bass grins and starts tugging him along "Come, people are waiting to see you babe" Bass laughs happily and Miles has never heard anything in his long life that compares to the sounds that leave Bass' mouth.All of a sudden there are smiling faces surrounding the two of them, Bass' family and Miles' parents are all standing in front of him."Welcome home Miles" Bass smiles, leaning up and kissing Miles lovingly.
10193477	Riverdale Highs Annual	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones, Veronica Lodge, Archie Andrews, Kevin Keller, Fred Andrews, mentions of others", "Fandom": "Riverdale (TV 2017)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by formergirlwonder (orphan_account)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "3,816", "Additional Tags": "Trigger warning: REALLY BAD SONGWRITING!, Veronica is a boss, Sorry Barchie shippers this is not for you, Fred needs help, Betty is adorable, Archie's songs are a crime against art, But it's okay because this show has so many detectives, Jughead can't tell a white lie, Even I can't write songs as depressingly literal as Archie's, Archie just wants someone to see La La Land with", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper & Veronica Lodge, Mentions of Barchie and Valarchie", "Series": "Blue + Gold = Green", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Riverdale High: School-Wide Arts Appreciation Assembly (1:00 PM Thursday) “You stood there on the steps, and said you cared,” Archie crooned, strumming out a minor chord. Betty settled in her seat slightly deeper. This was going to be a long one.“It’s twelve long years of friendship that we’ve shared,” he elaborated. Jughead’s hand was tapping out a syncopated beat on their shared armrest. She put her hand on top of his to shut him up, and he squeezed it slightly before withdrawing.It wasn’t that Betty didn’t like Archie’s music. It was more that she had been listening to it near-daily for the past five months, and as a result, was fairly bored of hearing it.“You wore a pinkish cotton-candy dress,” the song continued, and Betty decided she’d have to talk to him about real-life details in his songs. She did not need the entire school to know that she’d made an immature declaration of love to Archie Andrews.“With shades of gold in every curly tress.” Veronica shifted uncomfortably in the row ahead, as if she worried that The Closet They Don’t Want To Talk About would be the subject of the next couplet.“But now, I’m here, I just wish you could see,” Archie belted, inexplicably jumping an octave higher. Veronica’s shoulders relaxed palpably.“What happened doesn’t make him more than me.”Oh no. No way. No. Archie was not doing this. He was not going to sing a song like this in front of the entire school.“Through all the years, it’s mainly been us two, But he’s the grey-crowned king who conquered you,” Archie intoned dramatically, strumming a new set of chords for the lead-in to the chorus.Veronica twisted around in her seat, locking eyes with Betty in utter horror. “Did you know about this?” Betty whispered. Veronica shook her head mutely.In the seat next to Betty, Jughead pulled his beanie down over his ears and closed his eyes. Tuesday (roughly 49 Hours Earlier) Valerie Brown broke up with Archie Andrews ten minutes before fourth period.He wasn’t particularly crushed by it. They’d been growing apart for a while, of course. She had the Pussycats; he had his own friends and his own music.“Hey, Archie!” said Kevin at lunchtime.Betty looked up from across the table, where she was doodling something on a napkin. “Hi, Arch! Where’s Val?”Archie blinked uncomfortably. “Um, she’s broken up with me.”“Yes, she has,” Veronica announced, striding into the conversation with her Pussycat ears still on. “Josie’s issued a literal blacklist of people that the Pussycats aren’t allowed to spend more than three hours a day with, school excepted, and he’s on it.”“I’m so sorry, Archie!” said Betty. “Are you o--”“Okay,” said Jughead, leaning across Betty and pointing to the doodle with a stolen pretzel stick, “so if the car was over here, whoever blew it up had to come from further down Route 40, because if they came the other way, we would have seen them.”Betty frowned, twirling a strand of her ponytail in her fingers. “Not necessarily. The forest was really dark, Juggie. If they were more than thirty feet from us, we wouldn’t have seen them. Or they could have been there already, or even followed us. What we need to focus on is ways the murderer could have gotten to Jason without being seen by him or by Polly.”“Polly wasn’t--oh, I see...”“If they weren’t part of my family, then I doubt they knew that Polly went to the home, so they would have planned around her. So the question is, is there even a way to intercept Jason’s route without being seen by Polly, Cheryl, or Dilton?” They bent even further over the napkin, as Jughead pulled a more detailed road map out of his backpack.Veronica turned to Kevin. “Anyway, how’s that for gossip? Val actually took it easy, compared to Melody, whose current dating life is very much Josie McCoy-disapproved. Specifically, she’s spending up to six hours a day chasing/being chased after by half of the single people in the school, which is why Josie just made the blacklist say, “Anyone who Mel is romantically interested in,” which made Mel go off on a tangent about some kid named Alan that Josie dated. So Mel is yelling at Josie in the band room, and Val’s gone off to mope a bit, but I came straight here, because I imagined that you guys might want to hear about all of this--”“Veronica,” Kevin interrupted, “you know the house rule. Nobody talks to you until--”Veronica’s eyes rolled exaggeratedly as she removed her Pussycat ears. “You need to stop calling it a house rule, Kev. It sounds like I’m your misbehaving kid or something.”Archie blinked as he tried to process the earlier information. “Three hours...is that just an arbitrary number, Veronica?”Veronica chewed a bite of fruit salad. “Nope. It’s the length of our daily rehearsals.”“So Val broke up with me because…” He trailed off, waiting for her to explain it.“Because probably you were implying you needed more than three hours of her day, and she doesn’t want to risk getting kicked out of the Pussycats because, although she writes great songs, she doesn’t have the vocal chops to succeed as a solo artist. If you tell her I said that, by the way, she’ll claw my eyes out. Figuratively, I think, but I’m not quite sure.”“Okay. So does the rule apply to you?” he asked.Veronica finished the fruit cup, stacking it neatly on a corner of her tray. “Sorry, what was that? Betty, Jughead, can you be a little quieter?”Archie felt a flush spreading over his face. “No, forget about it. It’s just that my dad was going to drive Valerie and I into Greendale to watch La La Land and the new Star Wars. I have the tickets already, so I just need somebody else to come.”Veronica pulled out her phone. “Siri, what’s the runtime of Star Wars: Rogue One?”“The run time of Star Wars: Rogue One is 134 minutes,” Siri announced.“Is there a reason why your Siri’s a guy?” Kevin asked.“134 minutes is two hours fourteen minutes, plus getting there twenty minutes early, plus driving time there and back...sorry, no can do, Archiekins. What was that, Kev?”“I asked why your Siri’s a guy.”Veronica began the delicate operation of sawing into her burrito. “Oh, I read this article once about how the reason we give robots female traits is so that guys feel more comfortable giving orders to them.”Across the table, Archie was trying to get Betty’s attention.“Hey Betty, you want to drive into Greendale Saturday to see Rogue One and La La Land?” he asked.Betty sketched two more lines on the napkin. “Okay, so if Sweetwater River is roughly here, then Jason was headed this way when he was taken. So whoever took him--”“--was on the Greendale side of the river. How was Polly planning to get across?” Jughead asked, balancing his chin on a hand.Archie tried again. “Betty, do you want to go drive into Greendale to see Rogue One?” Betty chewed on her lip. “She was planning to take the first bus into Greendale, I think. I can ask, though. Sorry, Archie, what?” she broke off, as Archie caught hold of her sleeve and tugged it.He let go of the sleeve and sat back. “Do you want to drive into Greendale on Saturday to see Rogue One and La La Land? I kind of want to see La La Land because I’ve heard the music is great, but we could do something other than Rogue One if there’s something you’d rather see. It’d be just like old times.”Betty glanced at Jughead out of the corner of her eye. He jerked his head infinitesimally to the left as he reached for Betty’s water bottle. Betty swatted his hand away as it hovered dangerously near her Honeycrisp apple slices, before simply giving up and handing him one. Jughead took it, munched on it, and glanced meaningfully at Betty. With a laugh, she handed him half her portion before turning back to Archie.“Archie, can we do a different day? July 4 was a Saturday, so the bus schedule’s different, and I really need to be able to figure out what time Polly could have made it to the site of the car.”Archie blinked and swallowed thickly. “Yeah. Sure. But the tickets are for this Saturday, though, so I don’t think it’s going to work. Jug?”Jughead looked up from his contemplation of an apple slice. “Huh? No, I’ve got plans. Community service, for vandalizing the Twilight’s projector booth.”Archie grabbed his backpack and got up from the table. Probably Jughead was telling the truth, but it still felt belittling to be dismissed. “That sucks, Jug. Anyway, I’m going to head to Chem early. I have to retake that test I missed last week. See you guys!”Betty waved cheerfully as he walked off. The Andrews House (Roughly 2.5 Hours Later) Fred Andrews heard the front door open and close as Vegas barked a joyful welcome.“At least you still like hanging out with me,” murmured Archie dejectedly from the other room.Fred set his handsaw down on the workbench with a clatter and poked his head into the house. “Arch?” he called. “You alright?”Archie didn’t respond for a moment. Vegas whined in concern.“Fine, Dad,” he rejoined after a moment.Fred frowned. “You don’t sound fine to me. Who doesn’t like hanging out with you?” he asked, emerging into the living room.“Val broke up with me,” Archie explained.Fred blinked. Well, he supposed that would do it.“You need anything?” he inquired as he settled into a chair.“That’s not the problem,” Archie elaborated cryptically.“What’s the problem, then?” Fred probed.Archie flopped dramatically on the couch. “Betty. Jughead. Veronica. But mostly Betty and Jug.”Fred took a moment to assimilate that information. “Care to be more specific?”“They’re avoiding me.”Fred merely waited for Archie to feel like disclosing more.“Look, I mean, I just thought we haven’t hung out much since...since summer. You know. And so I thought I’d do movies on Saturday with Betty. But she’s spending Saturday on something for her investigation. So I asked Jug, and he’s also busy, of course, because he’s investigating with her. But every time I try to get involved, they brush me off. They have this whole silent communication thing they do with their eyes, you know, it’s just--ugh.”Oh. All of a sudden, Archie’s story made a whole lot of sense.It was times like this that he wanted to send Archie to Mary for help. Even if Archie didn’t live with her, Mary was still his mother. And she’d probably be much better at explaining matters.“Have you talked to them?” Fred ventured.Archie muttered something dismal-sounding.“That’s a no?”“It’s a ‘I tried talking to them and they told me to go practice for the assembly’,” Archie clarified.Fred shifted his weight slightly in his chair. “Arch, look. I don’t know where to start with this. But I think that Betty and Jughead are--getting close. Or they might be, at any rate.”Archie appeared nonplussed. “Dad, Betty and Jughead and I have always been close. I just don’t understand why they’re leaving me out.”Fred sighed. This was not a conversation he’d imagined needing to have with his popular, well-liked, attractive son. “People move on, Archie. Maybe Betty and Jughead are moving on with each other.”“Oh,” said Archie. “Yeah, I can see that.”There was a drawn-out silence. “It’s not your fault,” Fred offered.Archie sat up glumly. “Maybe not, but there’s got to be something I could have done. I mean, Betty tried to tell me that she wanted to be more, and I turned her down, and I know it was because of what was going on at the time, but that wasn’t my fault either! I mean, we’ve been friends for this long, and she couldn’t...I don’t know, give me some time to sort my head out afterwards instead of just leaving me out of everything? And now we’re just--not friends?”Fred sat down next to Archie and threw an arm over his shoulder. “Look, Jug is gonna make her happy, Arch. And you guys can still be friends.”Archie seemed vaguely confused. “Wait, wha--”“I mean, I have to admit I envisioned things working out a different way than this but--you know, there are worse things than being a third wheel,” Fred pointed out consolingly.Archie straightened up. “Wait--Dad, Betty and Jughead aren’t dating!”Fred waited for a moment.“No, they can’t be,” Archie continued. “They would have said something, right? I mean, it’s not okay to date someone your friend was interested in, right?”Fred decided not to point out precisely how insistent Archie had been that he was not interested in Betty.“It sucks, Arch. I totally get it. But you’re gonna get through this one.” Finally. He’d hit the right tone. Concerned, sympathetic, but not overly emotional or touchy-feely.Archie’s face twisted slightly. “Dad, I’m gonna go practice, okay? I--I need to go...figure this out.”“You do whatever you need.” Archie nodded and got up from the couch. Fred clasped him in a tight hug. (Even if Archie was too old to be hugged, Fred made exceptions for situations involving a murderer on the loose.)“By the way,” he asked as Archie picked up his guitar.“Yeah, Dad?” Archie turned in the doorway expectantly.“If you’re not going to the movies, I suppose I can take the truck and go out with Hermione on Saturday?”Archie slammed the door. Oh well. It had been worth a try. Riverdale High School (46.5 Hours Later) “Were you waiting all this time for me to leave? ‘Cause the hurt and rage, it makes it hard to breathe! I thought that I could trust the two of you! If you think I’ve given up, you’ve got no clue!I’ll get her back, She’ll be back, Just watch me and you’ll see. Whatever it takes, A million mistakes, The world safe and sound for: Gold hair with a gentle curl A girl born for the rose and pearl, Pretty and witty and bright! I’m gonna have my day tonight, Although I consider us friends, And I don’t see why that has to end, But--that girl iiiiis miiiiiiiiiiiine.”Veronica whispered, “First of all, as Riverdale’s resident New Yorker, I feel obligated to point out that he just plagiarized Hamilton, Wicked, and West Side Story. Like, a lot. How does he even know those? I mean, I can count at least three Hamilton quotes, possibly a fourth--”“I went through a Broadway musical phase last year, so I blasted soundtracks in my room a lot. He's probably just subconsciously remembering, but thinking he made it up. More importantly, we need to get out of here,” Betty interrupted. “I mean, unless you think leaving just draws more attention to us.”Veronica considered for a moment. “I am going to mangle that boorish, entitled, inconsiderate, simple-minded, carrot-headed nutjob for this. Sit tight. I’ll be right back.” She got up and made her way toward the bathrooms. Betty watched her go for a moment before turning her attention back to Archie. Betty's Bedroom (21 Hours Earlier) Betty heard her phone buzz from across the room. Setting down her Pre-calculus homework with a sigh--there really was far too much of it--she grabbed the phone and plopped into a chair to read what her home screen was advertising as 1 Unread Text from Archie.The text read, Hey Betty-- Sorry if this is inappropriate or whatever, but I heard a bit of a rumor that you might be dating Jughead? Is that true?She texted back, Yeah, it is. We didn’t necessarily want to make a big deal out of it.Oh, came the reply text. After a moment, it was joined by a new text, which said, Wow!! I mean, that’s great! I’m so happy for you guys!After a moment, a third text came through asking, So we’re good about that whole mess the first week of school? I felt really bad to put you in that position, so I’m glad you’ve found someone who measures up to your standards :)What was that supposed to mean? She hadn’t kissed Jughead back because he’d managed to tick off a checklist of categories she needed in her life, or because he’d somehow beaten out her old crush on Archie by outdoing him in some unspoken contest.Betty briefly contemplated calling Archie to somehow find words to explain that she’d kissed Jughead back because being around him made her feel safer than she’d known it was possible to feel, because he was intelligent and smart and cynical, but also sweet and caring and funny and kind, because he’d never let her down, because he knew exactly how to get inside her chaotic head and help her relax, because he believed in her one hundred and ten percent. Because when he looked in her eyes, she felt like they understood each other.Betty wasn’t an idiot. She knew Jughead had problems of his own, but she trusted that he’d tell her when he was ready, and then they’d confront them together. In the meantime, she wanted to stay as near him as possible. They liked the same sorts of books and the same sorts of jokes, they both felt unloveable, they both knew how it felt to be alone. He didn’t need to talk to say he understood the flashes of darkness that overpowered her senses. Because no matter what they did, they couldn’t ever truly hide from each other.Kissing Jughead had felt easy and natural in a way she’d never imagined kissing could feel. No pressure, no judgement, no expectation of world-shaking emotion. Just them, Betty-and-Jughead, together in a quiet room, her unshed tears gradually drying. It wasn’t like swelling string orchestras: it was just one simple, perfect melody.Yeah, we’re good! No need to worry! :) she texted. 24 Hours Later “A Byronic teen who knows too little joy, I guess girls can’t resist a rebel boy. But here’s the thing, I thought you had my back, Then when I wasn’t there, you changed your tack.”Betty snuck a glance at Jughead. He glanced back, telegraphing misery, annoyance, and possibly a desire to throttle his best friend. She jerked her eyebrows towards the exit, but shook her head when he moved to stand up, looking pointedly at Veronica’s empty seat. Jughead got the message and sat back in his chair.“You swooped in like a predatory hawk, How could you ever give me such a shock! A little word of warning would be nice, Now ‘tween the three of us, there’s so much ice.Were you waiting all this time for me to leave? ‘Cause the hurt and rage, it makes it-- BEEEEEEEEEP! BEEEEEEEEEP! BEEEEEEEEEP! BEEEEEEEEEP! The fire alarm had begun to blare.Betty grabbed Jughead by the arm. Together, they made a beeline for the nearest exit, where Veronica waited. Unsurprisingly, she was grinning ear-to-ear as she stuffed ink-stained gloves into her makeup bag.“Veronica Lodge, I am not sure whether to hug you or yell at you. You know you could get expelled for this, right?” Betty asked, falling into step with her friend.“I wore gloves to pull the alarm. Anyway, Archie should get expelled for singing that,” Veronica groused.“Agreed,” said Jughead.“I mean, what the hell was he thinking! Where do I even begin? Advertising your personal life to the whole school? Talking about you in a way that delegitimizes your choices?” she seethed.“I’m pretty sure he thought the references were so cryptic nobody would catch them. What about single-handedly obliterating centuries of beauty in poetry and music in one fell swoop?” Jughead suggested.Veronica rounded on him. “That’s what you’re upset about? I risked getting expelled so you didn’t have to listen to a bad song? If I get in trouble for this, you are going to be listening to a hell of a lot more than just bad music.”Betty interposed herself between them. “Guys, can we not talk about what Veronica just did in public? Someone might hear us!”Archie came jogging up to them. “Hey, guys! Exciting, huh?”“Yeah!” said Veronica, smiling winningly. “Have you guys ever had someone pull the fire alarm at school before?”Betty stepped on her toe. “Yeah, it’s really exciting! I hope nothing burns down!”“Did you like my song? I decided last-minute to scrap my original selection. I was gonna do “I’ll Try,” but then I realized, the whole school’s already heard that one. I think this is going to be a big part of my career--every time I perform, I’m gonna play a new song! That way, no two performances will ever be the same!” He looked appealingly around the group.“Sounds like a great idea!” said Veronica.“It just feels so good to write songs,” Archie mused. “I mean, I can’t imagine going through life without being able to deal with my emotions that way. Oh, speaking of that, by the way! Do you guys have any feedback for me?”Betty felt her grin begin to falter. “Feedback?” she stalled.“Feedback…” Veronica pondered, stroking her chin and raising her eyes to the sky.“Okay,” said Jughead. “I can do feedback--”“We really enjoyed it!” Betty enthused hastily.“Uh-huh!” said Veronica, bobbing her head up and down energetically. "It made me feel so many emotions!"“Great!” said Archie. “Wow! I’m so glad you guys liked it!”When he was gone, Jughead turned to the girls with a put-upon expression. “Okay, so whose fault is it if he goes home and writes ten more of these?”Veronica sighed. “Alright, you two. Fine. I’ll talk to him.” She pulled out her phone and pushed a few buttons. “There. Done.”Jughead stared at it. “You just wrote, Betty and Jughead don’t want their torrid love affair discussed in public. Also, I think your other song got a better reaction. Semicolon, end parenthesis, colon, end parenthesis, less than three, V.” Coda: Archie's Bedroom (Four Hours Later) Archie pulled open his dictionary, wondering why in the world Hermione Lodge had named her daughter something so hard to rhyme. He was going to have to hurry if he wanted a new song ready in time for his next performance.“I appreciate your honesty, Veronica, But I won’t quit guitar for the harmonica,” he sang experimentally.
10184441	My Breath of Life	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Stryder_Snape [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2012-06-05T00:00:00", "words": "1,510", "Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Angst, Tragedy, Romance", "Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	A/N: This story is SLASH. If you don't like it, then please don't read it. This is my first story on here, so reviews and feedback are greatly appreciated! DISCLAIMER: I do not have any affiliation with Harry Potter or anything associated with it. I don't own it; we all know who does :) Nor do I own the lyrics/song of "Breath of Life". --------------------------------------------------------------------------- I was looking for a breath of life; A little touch of heavenly light But all the choirs in my head sang "no" To get a dream of life again A little of vision of the start and the end But all the choirs in my head sang "no". The War was over. After 17 years since his return; he was gone. The bastard was dead. Lord Voldemort was no more.But at what cost? Hogwarts was still standing, with the same wooded outskirts against the same sun-filled horizon. There wasn't any destruction even to be seen. It was as if it was just another day. Another day of the lives of others. The students were safe, so were the staff. The Wizarding World could finally be safe as well.But at what cost to them? What did they loose? It was such a quick confrontation that no one could quite fathom what happened. The two sides met, but two people only actually fought. There weren't even any lifeless bodies; that is, except the two. And these two bodies laid still on the cobble stone slain for entirely different reasons. One for power and the hatred of others, the other for love and bravery that compared to no other. One sacrificed himself for the greater good, one wanted to win at all cost.And as the light of the setting sun rested on the face of a living life that looked at the scene, the one couldn't help but to think.Think of how this was the beginning for everyone else, but how it was the end for him. This was a start and an end. As if it was a race, a competition of the best.(POV)There'd be no more kisses, no more lingering touches. I'd wake up everyday from this one, only to be left in an empty and cold bed. There'd be no more love making, no more pleas of love and promises into the late hours of the night. I'll never hear the words "I love you" again. There were only the memories. And these memories will haunt me. This scene will haunt me. Your lifeless face looking up towards the sky. That face that used to look at mine and somehow see a man worthy of being loved.Everyone else would be grateful that they survived, that they could continue on with their life. But without him, there'd be no life. He was the reason for the very breaths I took. He was my breath of life. But I only needed one more touch Another taste of heavenly rush And I believe; I believe it so... And I only needed one more touch Another taste of devouring rush And I believe, I believe it so... I can't sleep, I can't eat. Without you I can't even breath. I want to slowly sink into a dark abyss. The days pass on.I look nothing like my former self. Skin stretched over bones, an empty heart beating lifelessly. A soul damned in this hell.I look like death. I'm glad for once. I want to die. I want to be with you my love. It's as if I'm suffocating without you. I lay down every night hoping I won't wake in the morning. I cry, I scream to the heavens above. Do I deserve a life full of pain? Do I deserve the emptiness of a hollow soul? What did I do? I protected, I fought. I've lived a life most couldn't imagine. I just want one more kiss, one more touch. One more day to tell you I love you, to tell you that you are my heart's desire. I should have listened more, done the little things more, opened up more. But, alas there is no more time. We didn't have much time, but to me it was everything. And the fever began to spread From my heart down to my legs But the room was so quiet oh... And although I wasn't losing my mind It was a chorus so sublime But the room is too quiet I was looking for a breath of life; A little touch of heavenly light But all the choirs in my head sang "no" To get a dream of life again A little vision of the start and the end But all the choirs in my head sang "no". Finally the urge set in, the courage I need has come. I've thought about it. My heart pleading with my head. My head swimming with the thoughts of you and my heart feeling the pain I'm left with. I'm not crazy, no, in fact I'm perfectly sane. Everyone has their opinions of me these days; I hear their whispers and feel their lingering stares. But I don't care. I wish it was your voice I heard, your stare deep into my eyes. Deep into what used to be my soul. But you took that. You took that with you when you saved me that day. When you saved everyone that day. As I climb up to my waiting fate, I'm surrounded by the silence. And I am finally happy.I've always loved coming up to the Astronomy tower. It's as if you're the only one left and it's your own connection with heaven. So high up, and so far from the ground. The ground that was covered in the same cobble you were slain onBut I still don't feel close to you. I want to be closer. I want to be with you. And as I stand dangerously close to the edge, I look up at the setting sun. It's the end of another day. My head is telling me no, not to do this. To walk back down those steps and stay on the ground. But my heart is telling me to soar, to fly and to feel free. All I see is your face and hear your voice. And, as if the answer was whispered to me in the wind, I know what to do. It's a harder way And it's come to claim her And I always say We should be together I can see below 'Cause there's something in here And if you are gone I will not belong here. And I started to hear it again But this time it wasn't the end And the room was so quiet, oh And my heart is a hollow plain For the devil to dance again And the room was too quiet, oh There were shrieks and cries. A crowd gathered. This couldn't be. Harry Potter was dead. He survived the killing curse, he was the Boy-Who-Lived only to die of a broken heart. He died by his own hand. There would be headlines and mourners. There'd be speculations and controversy. But none of that had mattered to Harry. All that had mattered was returning to the man he loved.When he had watched Severus jump in front of a stray jet of green light on that fateful day, that had been his breaking point. The last person he had loved had died for him. To protect him. Harry had survived like he was supposed to. Good prevailed evil. No one else was to fight but Harry and Tom. The two people that were supposed to. They dueled with spell after spell. The magic crackled through the air. Everyone bore witness to the greatest fight of all time. And finally, red versus green. Killing versus disarming. But Harry had won! There should have been a happily ever after. But for him there wasn't. There never would be. No one stopped to care. No one stopped to talk to him. Everyone thought about their own lives and how they were going to live them. But the one person they owed their lives to was now dead. And no one tried to help. He had been alone with his thoughts and the pieces of his heart. His head told him no but his heart told him yes. And ultimately Harry followed his heart like the Gryffindor he was. Now while those left in the living dealt with the scene on the cobble stone ground below the Astronomy Tower, Harry was finally free. It wasn't his end, he finally had a beginning. He could be with the one he loved. He had searched for what would make him whole, what would stop his suffocating. His last breath of life whispered one fateful word before he took his last adventure"Severus." I was looking for a breath of life; A little touch of heavenly light But all the choirs in my head sang "no"...
10189280	When the Need Arises	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Harold Finch, John Reese, Zoe Morgan", "Fandom": "Person of Interest (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by oddgit", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "959", "Additional Tags": "Smut, Threesome, I don't even know lol, Shameless Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot", "Relationship": "Harold Finch/John Reese/Zoe Morgan", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/F, F/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Harold sat in the chair next to the bed, observing. John and Zoey are on the bed. John bare, in nothing but his midnight blue boxer briefs and Zoey, stripped down to her alluring strapless bra and lace panties.“Aren’t you going to join us, Finch?” Reese asks with a smirk.“Yeah come on Harold,” Zoey teases, “I wouldn’t want to have your John all to myself.”“Your John?” Harold grins, “Oh Ms. Morgan I do not own Mr. Reese, I just simply loan him out when the need arises.” Harold’s cheeks turned slightly pink.John got off the bed and leaned over to take Harold’s face in his hands with infinite tenderness. Harold’s mouth parted as John bent down and kissed him, at first light and sweet and full of affection, “That’s not what you said the other night, Harold,” He laughed.Harold rolled his eyes and got up to move leisurely onto the bed to lay next to Zoe. John laid down next to him and started to unbutton his shirt slowly with great anticipation.Zoey set to work on his belt, “You know Harold, this would be much easier if you didn’t wear 5 layers of high-end couture all the time.”“I apologize Miss. Morgan, I promise to make it up to you,” Harold breathed out.Zoey grinned and she and John finally get Harold down to just his boxer briefs, “Now where shall we start?” Zoey licks her lips."Just tell us what you like," John says.Zoey swallows. She could think of a few things she'd like. She notices the way both of their gazes roam over her body, taking her in... the black lace of her underwear, the swell of her lovely breasts.“You’re running the show here boys,” Zoey laughs and lays down on the bed.Harold moves closer near to her, locking his mouth onto hers. Taking charge like he always does.John almost loses it right there at the sight of Harold’s tongue making its way into Zoey’s welcoming mouth.John leans over Zoey; he braces himself on his arms so he can mouth at her breasts, tease her nipples with his tongue. John kisses down her stomach and urges her to put her legs over his shoulders, settling in.He puts his mouth on her and Zoey gasps into Harold’s mouth.John’s head bobs and dips between Zoey’s legs, his clever tongue taking her to the brink.Harold reaches his hand down and circles her clit with his fingers. He leans down to kiss her neck and collarbone while his hand explores.Zoey grips a hand into John's hair tight and shoves his head down hard against her. He groans and rubs his tongue over her hard and fast; his mouth was filled with her; he thrusts his tongue into her while she cried out, clenching, shuddering.Zoey arched her back, surprised at the exquisite feeling of John’s clever tongue and Harold’s expert fingers, the delightful slick and perfect pressure against her clit. Damn. They make a good team. She thinks before she loses the ability to think when Harold pushes John aside and moves down to put his own mouth between her legs, the way her orgasm hits her a few exquisite moments later, Harold drawing out her pleasure with infinite patience, his tongue highly skilled her vision whites out completely for a few seconds.After she can see again, she nudges Harold onto his back and throws a leg over to straddle him. When he enters her, Zoey bites back a groan. It’s either been a while or she has severely underestimated his size. But Harold waits. He kisses her neck and waits until her pain turns to fullness and her clenched hands move to clutch at his back.John moves up to kiss Harold and runs his hands over Zoey’s breasts.Harold pushes into her, slowly at first, enjoying the leisurely pace and sensation but he eventually works into a magnificent rhythm—her hips riding his strong pace, her nails digging into his back, her moans matching his low, sensual sounds.John’s mouth drifted from Harold’s lips to his jaw and neck.Zoey came in just a few short moments, shouting his name, just before Harold did… He moaned and gasped while his thrusting continued until he too was spent and shuddered breathlessly, squeezing Zoe’s body to him, chuckling and pulling her down with him to lay into a sated heap.John stretched out on the bed next to them and trailed kisses down Harold’s neck. Harold pushed him over onto his back.John squeezed his eyes shut and clasped his fingers into the sheets as Harold leaned down and very gently took John’s cock inside his mouth. John responded immediately with infinite moans of pleasure. Zoey watched for a while before bending down to join him so they could devour John together.“God,” John says on an exhale, almost a moan as Zoey pressed kisses down his thighs and Harold continues to swallow his erection until John is limp and speechless, reduced to a puddle of want.Zoey presses two fingers inside John and hits just the right spot… John’s hips jerk as he comes, and his moan is so quiet it’s barely a sound at all.Harold swallowed it all, every last drop, licking his cock carefully clean as John sighed and closed his eyes, “Oh my God,” He huffed. Harold collapsed at John’s side and tucks his head into his shoulder, John is still panting for breath. Zoey tucks herself in next close to Harold, who’s now sandwiched in between the two. Finch closed his eyes and snuggled himself against Reese’s and Zoey’s body. All three of them falling effortlessly into sound sleep.
10171232	Get in loser were going	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Other", "Characters": "Ilima (Pokemon), Hau (Pokemon)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Milieu", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "902", "Additional Tags": "Fluff, Shopping, Dorks in Love, Genderfluid Character, Future Fic, Rare Pairings", "Relationship": "Ilima/Hau", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Pocket Monsters \| Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon \| Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Is this... uh, what's that print called...?" Hau held up the top shirt from the pile that Ilima had just loaded into his arms, looking at it doubtfully."Paisley," Ilima said, the unfamiliar word rolling easily off their tongue. They paid no mind to Hau's uncertainty, instead gliding around the store with a sharp eye out for anything else that they deemed "fetching", that being the latest word they liked to use to describe anything pleasing. This shopping routine was, to pardon the pun, old hat. Hau nodded and sorted the shirt in question into his mental reject pile, though he still had to try it. Given that the pair of them were mainly buying clothes for him, Hau had the final say on what did and didn't get bought, but he had to at least try things on before vetoing. He knew better than to get into a fashion debate with Ilima; they were on top of all the latest trends, if not the one setting them. Hau, on the other hand, would happily own five of the same t-shirt and shorts combo and just endlessly cycle through them, given the chance. He vividly remembered Ilima's look of shock and horror the first time they had taken a look through his closet.The week afterwards that Ilima had spent bemoaning Hau's lack of fashion consciousness was, thankfully, more of a blur. He had managed to snap them out of it by pointing out that really, he just wanted to battle Pokemon and that fashion wasn't that important to him. Ilima responded by bulldozing his team and looking flawless the whole while (terrifying glint in their eye that showed up during every battle notwithstanding), and then they had awkwardly treated each other to malasadas. Their first date wasn't exactly the stuff of fairy tales, was the point here.All the same, Hau was sort of stupidly in love with Ilima and was like, mostly sure they felt the same. Like 99.9 percent sure. So he let himself get dragged around to clothing stores and tried on a bunch of things that didn't suit him at all, and did occasionally discover a few things that he actually looked pretty good in.(Paisley was soon confirmed to not be one of those things.)"Alright," Hau said as Ilima happily took the bag with their purchases and linked their arm with his as the two of them left the store. A grin spread across his face. "Now let's go pick out some things for you."Ilima immediately looked doubtful, but Hau knew that they would at least humor him. "You want to pick out clothes for me.""Yup! Come on!" He dragged them down the street to the next store.Ilima soon found themself as the one with their arms loaded down with clothing, pulled almost haphazardly from racks and shelves. It was a good season for floral prints, apparently, or maybe Hau just liked those best. One certainly wouldn't know from the way he dressed himself, of course, but Ilima had to grudgingly admit that most of the things Hau decided suited them were quite nice. The crop top/long skirt combo was back in, it seemed, and they did have an excellent body type for it."How do I look?" Ilima stepped out of the fitting room and did a turn, showing off the delicate pink and green buds that decorated the top and skirt Hau had chosen. They did feel exceedingly pretty, they had to admit.Hau grinned, tilting his head to the side. "Heh... like a Mega Gardevoir."Ilima stopped and raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that a compliment?""Yeah, of course!" Hau laughed. "You look great, really. You should get it. The blue sweater too."Ilima 'hmm'ed noncommittally. "I don't think blue is really my color.""The gray one then. With the leggings."Ilima chewed their lower lip, considering the price tag. Money really was no object for their family, and it was true that they were willing to spend like a madman when buying things for Hau or their friends, but splurging so much on themself always felt like an extravagance."Come on," Hau said, dragging out the last word. "You'll wanna bundle up the next time you visit Mt. Lanakila anyhow.""...The peach leggings, then. And a scarf." Ilima relented with a smile.They linked arms again as they left. Ilima saw Hau looking at them out of the corner of their eye, expression soft. "What? Do I have something on my face?""Huh? Oh, nah.""Then what are you looking at me like that for?"Hau laughed. "I just like to look at you, that's all."Ilima looked away, pink dusting their cheeks. As he was with a lot of things, Hau tended to be at his most romantic when he wasn't trying.They sat on the bench on the marina, shopping bags around their feet, to watch the sunset. Hau noisily munched on his malasada, and Ilima sat quietly, sipping their Tapu Cocoa. The sea breeze ruffled their hair. They sighed, "You know, I've traveled a lot, but I still think Alola is the most beautiful.""Yeah," Hau agreed, stroking their arm.He choked on his malasada a moment afterwards because he never chewed thoroughly enough and Ilima had to thump him hard on the back, but the moment was nice while it lasted.
10129286	Chronicles of SMH Group	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Adam \"Holster\" Birkholtz, Justin \"Ransom\" Oluransi, Eric Bittle, Jack Zimmermann, Derek \"Nursey\" Nurse, Chris \"Chowder\" Chow, William \"Dex\" Poindexter, Larissa \"Lardo\" Duan, Shitty Knight, OMC", "Fandom": "Check Please! (Webcomic)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by B_Frizzy", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "2017-03-09", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "5,757", "Additional Tags": "text fic, SMH group chat, Fluff and Angst, background zimbits, bitty and nursey are friends, holster is kind of a shitty friend, idk how that happened, break-up, talking about sex, Mentions of alcohol, everyone is queer because samwell, Forced Outing, Unintentional Outing, Emotionally abusive ex, Cheating, Bad Communication", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Derek \"Nursey\" Nurse/William \"Dex\" Poindexter, Derek Nurse/OMC, Eric Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, Derek Nurse & Eric Bittle", "Series": "SMH Group Chats, etc", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	AB: idk man, I just don't think it's that greatEB: you bite your tongue, misterJZ: haha, yeahDN: well I guess if that's what you think, you can fuck offAB: bro, what the hellEB: Derek Malik Nurse!WP: that was decidedly unchillDN: sorry wrong chatCC: does this have to do with why you missed world wars earlier???EB: ?! :(AB: Nursey wth dude. You know the history dept hates us now that jack's gone. You can't be skipping classes like thatDN: sorry guys won't happen againJZ: wait why does the history department hate you ?JO: Shhhh, that's besides the point. Nursey, you can't accidentally tell us to fuck off and not expect us to pryDN: it's nothingEB: everything okay, Nursey? (I'll text you about it, sweetheart)AB: FINE $$$$$DN: I'm chill, npWP: answer your phone, man. You can't pretend you're not there when you're literally texting on group chat at the same timeCC: I mean, he CAN. Because he is doing that right now, and it's totally his right to do thatCC: but you shouldn't, Nursey!!!CC: we just want to make sure everything is okay!!! that's all!LD: you know they won't leave you alone until you give us somethingEB: I reserve the right to withhold any and all grumpy-time pies until you tell us why you're grumpy.JO: pulling out the big guns, eh bits?CC: omg nursey!!! you know he's serious!! remember when he didn't let me have pie for two whole days because I didn't want to talk about me and farmer fighting? It was horrible! Any time I would try to take a bite off of someone's plate, he'd hit me with a wooden spoon!DN: kinkyAB: nurseyAB: nurseyAB: nurseyAB: nurseyDN: STOP, shit. Is there no such thing as privacy anymoreDN: I was texting an ex, okay?CC: aww, nursey! :'cEB: but hold on, do you mean who I think you do?? when did y'all break up?CC: you were so cute together, what happened????AB: HOLD THE MOTHERFUCKING PHONEJO: how come bitty and chowder knew you were seeing someone but we didn't?AB:HOW FAR DOES THIS GOAB: DID YOU KNOW, DEX?AB: WHAT HAPPENED TO D-MEN STICKING TOGETHERAB: LARDO??AB: JACK??AB: SHITTY WHERE ARE YOU ARE YOU OUTRAGED TOO? THIS IS YOUR BOY DO SOMETHINGJZ: I didWP: noEB: I take back what I said about pie. You get all the pie you want.DN: thanks, bits, but I'm chillJO: “you can fuck off” isn't usually indicative of “chill”AB: you are all missing the point by a mile. Who were you going out with and why didn't we know??WP: I kind of want to know that myselfJZ: maybe give him some room to breath, ehCC: !!! if he feels like telling us he will!LD: chill for a bit, holster. We're gonna smoke it out, i'll give everyone a status report later**DN: this is lardo, I took nursey's phone. Bitty, chowder, Jack. I don't care which one of you it is, but we need to know who he was datingJZ: noCC: !!!!EB: Larissa Duan. You know for a fact that boy has a right to his privacy. If he won't tell you, we won't tell you.DN: I could use some reinforcements here, captainsAB: I just wanted deets, lardo. You sound kinda like you want us to go beat someone up and idk if i'm down for thatJO: definitely not down for thatWP: why, what's up lardo?DN: look, there is some seriously not good shit here. At the very least we need to know who it is so we can make sure they don't contact nursey againBK: I just got caught up. Kinda hurting that nursey didn't fucking tell me, no lie. But lardo, babe, you gotta let the man handle his own dickAB: $$$DN: hm, funny you phrase it that wayDN: “fine, be that way, idgaf. The only thing you're good for anyway is your dick”BK: uhDN: “hell, even that's not that good. I've had better THIS WEEK”DN: “we were exclusive the same way you're 'chill' AKA I've fucked half of the athletes on campus”DN: “i can tell you where you rank if you want. Hint: not even the best on the hockey team”DN: “may as well stay with me. You'll get laid on the regular and you're too fucked up for a real relationship anyway”JO: woahBK: that's... seriously fucked up. CC: maybe we should tell them?? For Nursey??JZ: chowder, no. Nursey didn't make it public knowledge for a reason. We don't get to make decisions for him because we don't like hisEB: you tell them, sweetheartAB: $$$$EB: yeah, yeah, mr birkholtz, i'll put my money in the sin bin when I get out of classJZ: what happened to not texting in class, eh ?EB: (')> (')> (')> whenever you're done, mister, there is a conversation happeningDN: I have my phone again. This is the last call for comments. After this point, the conversation is officially over and I don't want to hear about it againBK: text me, bruhAB: we still have that list of DerekNurse-compatible hook ups, if you're so inclined any time in the near futureEB: you, me, annie's. Tomorrow after practiceCC: wait, does this mean Nursey's person cheated on him with one of us??? O.ODN: in order.. already done, no thanks, sure, and more than oneJO: no shit, more than one?DN: it's in the past, it's chill. Not like it was on purposeDN: for you guysAB: are you gonna tell us who???DN: nahDN: and thus ends the questioning nursey about his life portion of the dayDN: thanks for playing.DN: now I believe we were talking about Holster's stupidly wrong opinion about mint and chocolate together *DN: sorry again I had to miss annie's, bits. Polisci prof assigned a group project due next class so I had to meet with my group to figure out a game planEB: >:( that's the worst!!!DN: nah, the worst would have been if I had to be in a group with you know whoEB: oh lord, that's the class y'all have together?DN: yeah. Chowder very enthusiastically volunteered to work with him. Practically jumped across the whole room to intervene, you know how quick he can be when he wantsEB: that sweet boy. I hope he gives him hellDN: lol you know he will, in his special chowder wayEB: so how are you doing?EB: how are you ACTUALLY doing?EB: none of that chill bullDN: you know how holster is constantly on edge around Ransom when he's in coral reef mode? Like he's two seconds away from a total nuclear meltdown? DN: that's how ransom is with me rn. Dude seriously doesn't know how to handle other neurodivergent pplDN: dex is ignoring me and chowder keeps hugging meDN: holster volunteered to be a rebound fuck??? I thought him and Ransom were.... whatever?EB: oh lord who knows with those twoEB: …......did you take him up on it?DN: BITTY!EB: what, i'm just asking eggplant emojiDN: I'll tell jack on youEB: like he doesn't already know I'm a thirsty bitch, honestlyEB: really though, how are you feeling about everythingDN: I mean, not great. Obv. The fucking asshole knew exactly what buttons to push, ya knowDN: and suddenly I've had my dick in the same place as every athlete on campus, soDN: kind of my own fault for sticking with him when I knew he was a douchefuck thoEB: oh honeyDN: it's alright bitsEB: not reallyDN: no, not really*BK: FUCK YEAH YOU BEAUTIFUL FUCKERSBK: LOOK AT THAT GORGEOUS GOAL, HELL YES BITTYJZ: that's how you do it, boysBK: LOOK AT THAT oh my godBK: can you believe you get to fuck that talented motherfucker, because I can't, jackJZ: how can I respond without being fined or punished by bits ?LD: any chance either of you two can make it for the follow-up kegster ransom and holster will without a doubt be throwing this weekend?JZ: I'll be on the roadBK: you know i'll fucking tryBK: while they're playing and you're here, how's Nursey?LD: you know how he is. All “chill” and “nbd”. He shuts down any conversation quickLD: he's basically the physical embodiment of ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ BK: he's playing like a fucking beast, thoughBK: WHENEVER YOU READ THIS NURSEY, I LOVE YOU, YOU FUCKING GORGEOUS MOTHERFUCKERLD: And that's a hatty for bits!!JZ: FUCK YEAHBK: ERIC RICHARD BITTLE OH MY FUCKING GODBK: I hope you beautiful motherfuckers enjoyed that kegster yesterday. You fucking deserved it, I would offer to blow you for your performance, bitty, if your dick wasn't already claimedBK: sorry I couldn't make it, you know I fucking wanted toEB: my dick is quite happy, thank youBK: I'll fucking bet it isJZ: no commentAB: speaking of dicks and the kegsterDN: holsterAB: what nursey? i'm just keeping everyone updatedJO: bro, come onDN: don't be a fucking dick, manAB: I don't know, why don't we let everyone else weigh in, see what they thinkAB: SO, there I was, enjoying the kegster as I am known to do, when I decided I wanted to get too drunk to take my contacts out before I went to sleep. Up I went to the attic to take them out, and what did I find??AB: Nursey. In my bed.BK: Dude, party foul. No fucking in teammates bedsJO: Adam, stop itAB: I didn't mind, I mean, who was I to complain when I had been pushing him to hook up all night. I let them do their thing, nbd. Figured I'd chirp him for todayAB: and then, later in the night, who do I see being kicked out of the Haus but the guy Nursey was hooking up with. Why was it that you kicked him out, Chowder?AB: OH YEAH, apparently that was the same ex who was so fucking horrible to him JUST LAST WEEKBK: dudeLD: out of line, holster.EB: holster >:(AB: wait wtf. How am I the one who's getting bitched at here. Nursey went back to that asshole ???DN: and we already established it's none of your fucking businessAB: You know, I don't think that's what we did, actuallyWP: Holster, fucking lay off. Nursey was downright polite last time we decided to get in his business.He answered questions, for fucks sake, which is more than we deserved. Did he fuck up by screwing around in the attic? Sure. But make him wash the bedding or something. You don't get to give him shit for who he chooses to fuck around withWP: and you definitely don't get to air his business to everyoneDN: thanks, dexWP: d-men gotta stand up for d-menWP: right, holster?EB: now, this isn't me judging you, but what on earth are you doing having sex with him again??DN: I didn't mean toDN: it just happenedEB: derek nurse, don't you dare say you accidentally had sexDN: …..i accidentally had sexEB: D: D: D:DN: I know! I knowDN: we went up to the attic because he wanted to talk and I wanted to yell at him for being such a fucking dickDN: it wasn't even like he apologized or said we could work things out or all that romcom bsDN: idk, i'm like pavlov's dog... the minute we're alone together I immediately get hardEB: oh lord. Do we have to extend nurseypatrol to include monitoring your hook ups, too??DN: I mean, you're joking, but...EB: NURSEY!EB: tell me it won't happen again, and that it was just one last hurrahDN: it won't happen againDN: it was just... a last hurrahEB: ….........EB: YOU DIDN'TEB: when did y'all even have the time since last night?!DN: after chowder kicked him out, I walked him to his dorm, to apologize or some shit, idk. But then we got there, and it's not like we finished before, since holster interrupted, soooDN: it was just a blow job?EB: I am going to smack you so hard next time I see youEB: “it was just a blow job”EB: >:[DN: but that was really the last time, so it's chillEB: UGH FINEEB: but I will be keeping a rolled up magazine around the Haus, Mr Pavlov's dogEB: anyway, how are you feeling about the rest of it... holster, and all?DN: pretty superDN: so greatDN: 10/10 great way to come outEB: you weren't out to everyone?DN: nopeEB: omg derekDN: it's fine, it's whateverDN: I mean, everyone probably knew already. It wasn't really a secret. Just would have been nice to be on my own terms, you knowEB: i'm so so sorry, nurseyEB: want me to beat him up for you?DN: ...can I say yes just because I want to watchEB: WHATEVER, I wouldn't even break a sweat. Holster's terrified of me :)DN: who isn't? Next to lardo, you're the scariest mf-er on the teamEB: aww, thank you!DN: thanks for sticking up for me, manDN: idk, it feels like you've been pissed at me this week, so I really appreciate itWP: you're my partner, i'll always be there when you need itDN: thanks for thatWP: look, I just don't get why you didn't feel like you couldn't tell meWP: not just that you were seeing someone, but that you're not straight or that your boyfriend was treating you like shit or any of itDN: idk manDN: we've been good this semester, not fighting and shit, and I wasn't sure where you stood with queer issuesDN: historically, you haven't been the best ally with bitty and jack, Mr Samwell RepublicansWP: I'm not....WP: yeah, okay.WP: sorry that's how you felt, but for the record, I'm here for whatever you needDN: thanksDN: againWP: i'm sorry holster outed you.DN: it's chill, it had to happen eventually, rightDN: bitty already threatened to beat him up for me, so, if I'm feeling any sort of way about it, I have backupWP: I'd say I'd help out, but you don't need more than bitsWP: he could probably kick all of our assesDN: it's that kill them with kindness southern thing he has going onJO: nursey, my dude, I hate to bring this up again, butJO: any chances of telling us who your old guy is?JO: because, like, there's this guy I wanted to hook up with again, but I don't want to be fucking around with him if it was your guyDN: ransom.DN: I honestly could not care lessDN: fuck whoever you're gonna fuck. Use protectionEB: oh honeyCC: nursey!!JO: alright, you may not care, but I doAB: not everyone fucks whoever they wantAB: some people have standardsWP: uncalled for commentary there, HolsterJO: but kinda true?LD: jesus christ, how is this still a topic of conversationJZ: honestlyAB: it's still a topic of conversation because some of us don't appreciate secrets being kept from teammatesJO: just forget I asked, I don't want to start anythingDN: no, whatever, let's just finish itDN: it's Jared. Yes you hooked up with him before. I'm not going to tell you the other person because idk if he's out yet. Idc if you do again. While we're at it, he also fucked the quarterback of the football team, the powerforward of the basketball team, all of the goalkeepers in club soccer, and half the swim team. DN: so if you didn't use protection the first time, get tested. Chowder, I'd have farmer relay that message to the volleyball team, too, because he's just as fond of female athletesDN: and just for the record, I wasn't out to everyone, Holster, before you so thoughtfully decided to make that public knowledge. DN: I don't want an apology from you, or Ransom, or anyone. I just want this over with. So, once again, and really for the last time, are there any questions that anyone has. At all.CC: are you okay?DN: i'm perfect, chowder.DN: nothing else? Cool. FYI, i'm going to be late to practice, because I have an appointment at the student health center. Since everyone is so into know what my dick does, yes, it's to get an STI test.JZ: ransom and holster, call me.WP: hey, man, do you think you have a few minutes to talk?BK: william poindexter, for you I have several minutes to spareWP: okay, so, nursey said something the other day that really bothered meBK: bruh, if this is what I think it's about, I will flip shit on youWP: no, it's notWP: well, it is, but not how you're thinkingWP: nursey told me that i'm not a good ally, to bitty and jack and I guess him... I just want to know how to be betterBK: that is the most touching shit I have seen all week, holy shitBK: okay, so, normally I'd say you should ask them what they need from you, but I get that you want help from someone outside the situationBK: that's the biggest thing: listening. If they tell you something is wrong, don't fight against it. Don't try to defend yourself, just accept that you're in the wrong and work to get betterBK: be aware of how you talk and how the people around you talk. Don't let someone in class get away with saying fag just because your queer friends aren't around. You don't get to choose when to be an ally, you have to be there all the timeWP: this is maybe a dumb question, but isn't the word 'queer' bad?BK: not a stupid question at all, my young padawanBK: the LGBT+ community is so much bigger than just L, G, B, and T. the term queer refers to the community as a whole.BK: for example, I'm asexual and polyamorous. I fall under the “queer” umbrella even though my designations are left out of “LGBT”. It's just a more inclusive termWP: Bitty said he came out first to you.. How can I help people who aren't out of the closet yet?BK: you've got some good questions, my dudeBK: just make sure you're a safe space. Let people around you know that you don't play with any homophobic bullshit. WP: thanks, manBK: not even a problem! I'm always here if you need me, manWP: I think I owe you an apology, manDN: wait, what was thatDN: did the clouds part?DN: am I hearing actual angels sing?DN: what are these beautiful words I'm seeingWP: dude, I'm trying to be serious hereWP: you're right that I wasn't there for Bitty and Jack and you.. I didn't have any right to get pissythat you didn't feel comfortable coming out to meDN: You don't have to apologize for thatWP: no, I doWP: I talked to shitty about how I can be better. I guess I never knew how to be an ally because....WP: because i'm not an ally. I'm gay. And I spent a lot of years trying to distance myself from that and I never considered what I had to do to support the people around me who were out or struggling on their ownWP: um...WP: I'm kind of freaking out here, just a little, if you wouldn't mind responding?WP: just... somehow? PleaseDN: sorryDN: sorry, i'm processingDN: oh god, was that the first time you ever came out? Because I just fucked it up so royally if soWP: no, yeah, it wasWP: isDN: fuck man, I'm sorry, DexDN: shit, how does shitty say it? Thanks for trusting me with this momentWP: does he seriously say that shitDN: every time. Apparently everyone comes out to him first, like he's the gay whipserer or some shit. I started the trend at Andover and it just carried over to samwellWP: well, i'll have to let him know that I broke his streakDN: really, though, poindexter. Thanks for trusting meWP: got time for some more advice?BK: DEX MY MAN, ALWAYSBK: mostly because it is always a good distraction from law school BULLSHITWP: okay, so hypothetically, you just came out to a guy and you really want to, I don't know, cuddle or some shit since you're not into sex. How do you make that happenWP: oh, also, I'm gay and apparently broke some sort of streak you have going of guys coming out to youBK: WOAH OKAYBK: I'm gonna assume when you say 'cuddle' in this hypothetical situation you actually mean 'hop on that dick and ride it to orgasm-land', amirightBK: in which case, i'd have a conversation, like an adult?BK: also, kudos for coming out, man! I'm proud of youWP: have a conversation? That's your advice?BK: YUP. *DN: bitty, my man, my favorite southern belle. I need helpEB: I'm in astronomy rnEB: so of course i'll help, what's up :DDN: alright, so how do I say to a guy “i respect you for coming out, I appreciate that it's all new to you, and I want to swallow your cock, like, yesterday”EB: oh sweet childEB: not like thatDN: how about “i'm glad you're gay because i'm so gay for you”EB: ...reallyDN: U + M + eggplant emoji* ??EB: noDN: i'm out of ideas thenEB: do you just want to hook up, or do you want more than thatDN: like. Anything he's comfortable with.EB: aww, you have a crushDN: the size of jack's ass. This is a problem, bittle, helpEB: sweetheart, you just gotta talk to the boy. And if he doesn't like you, or if he's not ready for anything, you respect thatDN: I don't want sage advice bitty, I want the bitty who asked for deets when holster propositiond meEB: sorry, you get who you getEB: ...but I still want deets, if there are deets to give***JO: DEREK MALIK NURSEAB: OMG WHAT THE HELLJO: YOU DON'T EVEN LIVE IN THE HAUSAB: FIND SOMEWHERE ELSE TO BONE JFCLD: why are you two shouting this time?AB: we caught nursey fucking in the attic, AGAINEB: eggplant emojiDN: sorry, our roomates were home?WP: get a lock?CC: I thought I heard some noise from up there....WP: omg chowder, you were home?EB: omg please tell me that you didn't just send him an eggplant emojiEB: oooh, and do I get to ask for deets now, Nursey????DN: best dick i've ever hadAB: NOJO: STOPAB: WE DON'T WANT TO HEAR THISLD: shit, I doBK: ME TOOAB: THINK ABOUT CHOWDER'S POOR VIRGIN EARSJO: well, not virgin, but.AB: AND JACKJZ: i'll just hear from bittle laterCC: ...i don't care either wayEB: So that's me, jack, lardo, and shitty for hearing deets, holster and ransom against, chowder abstains. Dex, your vote?AB: UGHWP: I mean.... I was there, so.Cc: I'm confused. You're at the Haus, dex?BK: NO FUCKING WAY, YOU GET IT BOYSDN: so as I was saying, dex has literally the best dick I've ever had the pleasure of enjoyingWP: yeah, so I'm gay.DN: SO fucking good.DN: and I definitely just sent an eggplant emoji ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- EB: long story short! The history department hates SMH because these silly frogs and tadpoles keep taking MWF classes and end up missing their fridays for away gamesEB: you were their pride and joy, the famous jock who made history cool (and lbr, filled classes with thirsty bitches wanting a peek at your behind)EB: once you graduated, there was no more reason to like us and a whole handful of hockey playing reasons not toJZ: but I thought I told everyone how to schedule their classes to avoid that ?JZ: and why would anyone take a class just to stare at me? And how did they even know what I was taking ?EB: oh you sweet naive canadian cinnamon rollEB: there was a twitter account just to track your ass around campus (LITERALLY)EB: people tweeted locationsEB: and picturesJZ: so how many pictures of my butt did you have saved this time last year ?EB: none, I'll have you knowEB: now, though... :DEB: but only the ones you know about ;)JZ: if you behave, I'll send you anotherEB: why, Jack Laurent Zimmermann. How could I turn down an offer like that? EB: sweetheart, maybe you should calm down a little bit with themJZ: calm down? Crisse, bittle, they want us to break Nursey's trust in us. They deserve a lot worse than a few stern wordsEB: I know, and I agree with youJZ: don't tell me you want to tell them who it isEB: no! Lord, no, Jack. And i'm a bit sad you think i'd do that.EB: i'm just saying... maybe you're a little close to the situation to be making the best judgements. I think some of your frustration right now isn't because of nursey and lardo and the boys, so much as...EB: y'know, with you and me and being out (or not) in the nhl. And maybe just a little bit about your history with kent?JZ: you're right. Of course you're right. I'll apologize to lardoEB: and chowder?JZ: and chowder.EB: lord knows what that boy would do if he thought you were actually mad at himEB: you want to talk about it, hon?JZ: just frustrated, eh ?EB: I know you are, sweetheart. You're doing so good and making a lot of progress, and even now people won't let you beJZ: if feels like a lifetime ago, me and Kenny. But people still don't respect our privacy, even now, and I forget that I'm not the same guy who didn't know how to handle it.EB: :(EB: i'm sorry that it feels like that. And that people like to think your private life is for them to play withJZ: I know. Me too. And you know how I feel about coming outJZ: I hate feeling like I'm hiding you, but I know it's not the right timeEB: You're a good man, Jack Zimmermann. And I love you.DN: you got some time, Shitty?BK: you know i'm here, bruhDN: I'm sorryDN: you know I love you, bro. You're my family. I didn't mean to keep shit from youDN: at first it was just hooking up, and I know you're not always down for deets. But then it wasn't just hooking up (on my end, at least, I guess), and I didn't know how to explain why you didn't already know about Jared, you know?BK: no, I get it. And you don't ever have to tell me something if you don't want to, that's totally your right. I just didn't want you to think you couldn't, or some shitDN: no, never. I've known that since I was a scared little 14 year old coming out to his cooler, older crushBK: NO FUCKING WAYBK: you never told me you have a fucking crush on me, hooooly shitDN: bro. Shitty. Who at andover didn'tDN: you were cool and rebellious and gd, you went by the name shittyBK: oooooooh yeahBK: You know how to stroke an ego sooo good, mmmmmm babyDN: I'm pretty sure you are single handedly responsible for the gay awakening of a couple dozen chadsBK: oh god, just like that, don't stopDN: me and some of the guys would talk about you in the locker room. Your fucking gorgeous flowBK: YES, NURSEY, GOD YESJZ: I want to be very clear boysJZ: you may not always were the A, but you are always that team's captains. You ALWAYS support them. You ALWAYS trust in your team. You NEVER doubt them or question themAB: jack, I already know I fucked upJZ: good. Now sit there and listenJZ: it is up to you two to coach them when they need it, to help guide them through their struggles. On and off the ice. That does NOT mean judging them for their problems and telling them how they went wrongJO: how do you coach without pointing out problem areas, though?JZ: when you two were fighting last year about holster's nhl prospects, what did I do?AB: you played middleman.JO: you helped me decompress my anxieties and verbalize them, and you helped holster sort through his emotions so that he wans't giving me his snap reactionsJZ: and how did I do that?AB: ….you pulled us to the sideJO: privatelyJZ: that's right. I didn't tell everyone on the team what was going on. Even now, not even bittle knows you were being looked at, HolsterJZ: ransom, you know sometimes you have to be holster's filter his first reaction isn't actually how he's feeling, no matter how loud it is. And holster, you need to give ransom perspective on how other people are feelingJZ: you need to do better for all those guys. They are depending on you to have their backsJO: we know we do, JackAB: we're sorryJZ: it's not me you have to apologize to, holster. I don't even have to tell you that.AB: shit, I know. I don't want to text it, so next time I see him, promiseJO: sameJZ: I know i'm busy now, but not so busy that i'm not here if you two need help, ehDN: holster apologized to me todayWP: good. He was a fucking dickDN: yah, but I guess I get itWP: really, because I fucking don'tDN: he was just trying to look out for me, he justDN: doesn't know how to do anything quietly, y'knowDN: it's holsterWP: I honestly don't give a fuck what his intentions were, and you shouldn't eitherDN: it's chill dexWP: no it's fucking not! It's not chill! Not only does he NOT get to have any opinion about who you screw, you're a grown ass man who doesn't need protection. And HE FUCKING OUTED YOUDN: no, it's fucking not chill, butDN: whether he gets to have an opinion or not, he does. You all do, he's just the one who said something. You all fucking judged me because I fucked jared again, don't even tell me you didn'tDN: and we protect each other, that's what we do. That's what you did when you defended me to him.DN: he was shitty for outing me and I won't excuse him for that, which I told him. But i'm not going to villify him, eitherWP: how aren't you angry about this? I don't fucking get it. I just don't.DN: you're angry enough for both of us.DN: so i'm gonna chill, and you can be the one with blood pressure problemsEB: stop antagonizing everyone and give me DEETS!EB: (if dex is okay with it, that is)DN: I remember back when I thought you were a charming, proper southern boy. A boy who lived for pie, who was pure and wholesome.EB: oh honeyDN: lol I knowDN: so, dex was texting me about hooking up with guys and how it works and shit (he told me earlier today that he was tryng to flirt??? by talking about fucking other people??? idek). So I said “i can show you eggplant ;)”EB: you two are useless and perfect for each other, good lordDN: rightDN: so, my roommate was there and his roommate was there, so we figured why not the hausEB: oh don't even, you totally wanted to stick it to holster by fucking in his bedDN: and on his desk (shh)EB: omfg I cannot condone this behavior, but you know I am LIVING for that level of pettyEB: now cmon, give me the real deeeeeeeeeatsDN: okay, so like. Sex has always seemed like a race to the end before. Hookups, boyfriends, whatevDN: like, fumbling hand job leads to unenthusiastic blow job, then sex, orgasm, bam doneDN: but holy shit, sex with dex. I could spend all day just looking at his dick. I mean honestly. I'll snap you, because it is a shame he doesn't share it with more peopleDN: but he doesn't even care! He doesn't care about getting off. At all. at. All. Bitty.EB: okay, maybe don't send me pictures of your boyfriend's junk. I don't think he would be too happy about that. Or jackEB: but keep goingDN: when I was with a guy for the first time, I was just fucking excited another dude was willing to touch my dick. Dex is all about doing the touching himselfDN: and he's fucking insatiable. I didn't know it was possible for a 19 year old dude to have too much sex, butDN: I don't think I can get it up for the next fucking week,not even for his magical cockEB: that sounds A-mazingEB: i'm so happy y'all two worked it outEB: and that the sex is fabulous <3 DN: me too, bits. Me too.
10184516	Well both fall over in	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Alec Lightwood, Jace Wayland, Isabelle Lightwood", "Fandom": "Shadowhunters (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by EllaStorm", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "2,635", "Additional Tags": "Soul Bond, Parabatai Feels, a weird trip on a weird drug, Alec's terrible singing abilities, so many feelings, andddddd smut of course", "Relationship": "Alec Lightwood/Jace Wayland", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "You and I, forever wild", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	„Alec. ALEC! Concentrate! How many fingers am I holding up?”Jace’s hand was blurring before his eyes and Alec blinked rapidly to stop his world from spinning. In vain. He felt like someone had put him on a carousel that didn’t know which direction it was supposed to rotate in, and therefore had to rotate in every direction at the same time until someone would stop it and make a decision. Schroedinger’s carousel. Or something like that. Okay, wait, what did Jace want? Right. Focus. Fingers.“Uhhhh – six?” The words fell from his lips like gooey syrup.A hand struck his face, probably Jace’s hand, probably because he hadn’t given the right answer, but the slap didn’t really register as pain, and Alec felt the sudden need to laugh.Jace’s face disappeared from his narrowed, sluiced-out, revolving field of vision, being immediately replaced by another familiar face with long black hair surrounding it and deep red on its disapprovingly curled lips. Izzy. Fingers were pulling up his eyelids and a flash of bright light blinded him for half a second.“Will he be okay?” That was Jace’s voice, unusually panicked. Alec felt a pang of guilt and did his best to apologise and reassure his parabatai that yes, everything was going to be okay, but the only thing coming out of his mouth was a dry coughing sound.“He will,” Izzy said in his stead.Her face and fingers disappeared, and Alec’s lids dropped, surrounding him in darkness, which actually did something against the chronic carouseling.“I’ve seen this before,” he heard Izzy explain somewhere diffusely to his right. “Oneirium. One of the rogues must have injected him with it while you were busy fighting them off. It’ll incapacitate him and give him crazy dreams for the next few hours, but he should be okay. It’s not an overdose, that much I can tell. His pupils are responding to light and his breathing rate is normal. He might be a bit confused and say a few stupid things; but then – doesn’t he do that anyway?”“Are you sure?”“Yes, Jace, I am sure. Get him to his room and let him sleep it off. That’s the only thing we can really do.”“Alriiiiiiiiiiiiiii”Jace’s voice seemed to get stuck on the I all of a sudden, like a broken record, and Alec stared in confusion at the colours that were starting to bloom in the dark beneath his closed eyelids. Yellow, pink, red, green, light blue, dark blue, purple, accompanied by a soft humming sound that grew stronger until it resembled the slamming noise of an electric guitar, and – was that someone beatboxing into his ear? What by the Angel’s holy-He tried to open his eyes and/or put his hands to his ears, but he wasn’t sure any more whether he actually had eyes and/or hands in the first place. So he stopped trying.“Hey Alec. Alec. AlecAlecAlecAlec. Ya wanna hear a song? A sooooooooooooooooooong?” a weird little voice whisper-sang into his ear.“Actually, I don’t,” Alec replied, reasonably, but the strange voice wouldn’t have any of it. “Well I guess it would be nice, if I could touch your booooooodyyyyyyyyy. I know not everyboooooodyyyyyy has got a body like youuuuuuuuuu.” Alec sighed deeply.The voice completely failed to take note of his disapproval; and after the thirtieth, frustratingly catchy repeat Alec remembered some stupid saying he’d read once: If you can’t beat them, join them. Well, then, in this case, singing it was. *** When Alec awoke his throat felt somewhat rough and his body somewhat overheated. But the weird voice in his ears was gone, and his eyes seemed to be functioning without limitation as he blinked them open. The structure of the ceiling and the lamp he spotted straight ahead told him that he was lying in his room, in bed. Carefully he sat up, moving his toes and fingers. Nothing broken, as far as he could tell. He was aching in a few joints, but that was probably residual damage from the fight an undetermined amount of time earlier. His clothes had mostly disappeared – apart from a pair of boxer briefs and a black t-shirt he was naked.“Alec.” A rough voice called his name from the chair in the corner, and he turned his head to see Jace getting up from it, his hair dishevelled and his gaze worried, walking over to him with hasty steps. “How are you feeling?”“I’m fine.”Jace ignored his statement, grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him sternly in the eye. “Do I look strange to you? Are you hearing voices? Any other sounds? Do you feel watched or followed?”Alec sighed. “No, I’m not hearing voices. Don’t you always look like that? And, yes, I am feeling followed, since you seem to have set up camp in my room.”Jace rolled his eyes but he looked rather relieved, and his hands dropped down from Alec’s shoulders. “You’re obnoxious. That means you’re better.”“Of course I am. My throat feels a little rough, though,” Alec added, since he assumed that he should be complaining about something at least so Jace wouldn’t have to think the bedside nursing he’d apparently been doing for the last few hours had been for nothing.His parabatai laughed.“Yeah, I wouldn’t be too surprised about that. Izzy said you’d be experiencing weird dreams – but why of all things did you have to hallucinate George Michael? Your rendition of Faith was staggeringly off key and on repeat for 58 minutes. I was suffering over there.”Alec furled his brows. “Why didn’t you leave? Izzy said I’d be fine, didn’t she? You should have gotten some sleep instead.”Jace’s expression shifted into something strangely annoyed.“And leave you to yourself? Are you insane? I mean – Faith was torturous, don’t get me wrong…but you could have hallucinated anything! Your window being your door for example. Or something even worse. I was worried. You were-”Alec interrupted him with a gentle touch of his hand to Jace’s shoulder. “I would have done the same. Don’t think I don’t understand.”The anger disappeared from Jace’s eyes and he sank down on the edge of Alec’s bed, resting his hand on his parabatai’s thigh. Alec could feel his heat through the thin blanket.“Sometimes I wonder, if it’s such a rational decision,” Jace gave back, quietly.“What do you mean?”“Creating parabatai bonds. Being Shadowhunters, we always put our minds first, don’t we? But at the same time, we still use rites that bind two soldiers together in the deepest way possible. Rites that allow them to feel each other’s joy and pain, anger and sadness. That set them up to save each other above everyone else. That’s not very rational.”Alec bit his lip. “No, it isn’t. But parabatai, when they work together – when we work together, we’re stronger. If we set our minds to something, we’re far more efficient than alone. Our society knows this. They hazard the emotions that come with the bond, but the pros vastly outnumber the cons. Unless, of course…”He looked down at Jace’s hand on his thigh, and then up again into his eyes that were staring at him, intent blue.“I’m scared,” he said. The word felt foreign in his mouth. “We don’t have it under control. We both know it’s going to happen again. We want it. But I’m still scared.”Jace’s face came closer, and his free hand touched Alec’s shoulder, another source of heat that slowly started to mess with Alec’s thoughts.“I’m scared, too, Alec.” Jace looked away for a second and cleared his throat, before his eyes met Alec’s gaze again. “I keep asking myself Is it worth it? over and over and over – and then I see you and yes, it’s worth it. It’s worth being scared about. You’re worth being scared about.”Alec couldn’t help it, even if he had wanted to; his lips found Jace’s on their own accord. It was a desperate kiss – but then, maybe their kisses would never be anything but; driven, chased, stolen from a place that didn’t belong to them, yet was completely and utterly theirs. Jace returned the kiss right away, like he had known it was coming, both of his hands grabbing onto Alec’s face, and after a while Alec’s fingers started fumbling with the hem of his parabatai’s shirt, searching for skin. Jace’s hands mirrored them only shortly after, pulling the blanket from Alec’s scantily clad form; and then Jace was sliding on top of him, still way, way too clothed – but at least there was friction now. Alec groaned, deep in his throat, his mind set back to the day at the training centre, Jace’s growling words in his ear, when all of a sudden Jace shifted away, despite Alec’s silent protest, a laugh on his lips. “Let’s do this properly this time.”Alec felt crimson spread on his face when the implications of that statement finally hit. “I’ve never actually – done. That,” he blurted out, before Jace could read the truth right off his face and call him out on it. Great. The literal blushing virgin, Alec Lightwood. Jace chuckled. “It’s not so different from doing it with a gir- oh.”Alec had developed a deep interest in the collar of Jace’s shirt as soon as he had started talking, unable to meet his gaze. But a finger lifted his chin only shortly after, and he was forced to look into his parabatai’s eyes again. Contrary to his imagination Jace didn’t seem too disappointed. Quite the opposite, actually. “I’ll be your first, then. If that’s alright with you,” he said, softly.Alec nodded, relief flooding his veins. “I wouldn’t want anyone else, to be honest.”Jace’s thumb caressed his cheek. “If you get – worried, or it doesn’t feel right, tell me. I’ll keep you in check through the bond as much as I can, but I’m not a thought-reader.”Alec put his hand on Jace’s and stilled his movement. “I won’t. It won’t. But thank you.”Jace grinned at him. “Alright. When I said, it’s not so different from doing it with a girl – well, it is, of course, in that it needs a little more outside preparation. Luckily, if I’m not mistaken, and you haven’t changed your habits…” Jace stretched out his arm to Alec’s nightstand, opened the third drawer and fished out the herbal oil Alec regularly used to apply on tense muscles after training. “There we go,” he said triumphantly, throwing the vial on the bed next to them. Alec swallowed hard and felt his boxer briefs grow tighter as he thought about where that was going to go very, very soon. He would never be able to look at the vial in quite the same way ever again.Jace had stripped off his shirt meanwhile, smiling at the expression on Alec’s face – but then, he was a sight to behold, all muscles and runes stretching and contracting sleek and black across them like living things, and Alec had to put his fingers to one or two and trace them across Jace’s skin. He was so caught up in it, he didn’t even realise how Jace had taken hold of his own shirt, until it was being pulled over his head, and then Jace’s hands were all over his body, too, leaving hot trails in their wake.“Do you know how infuriating it is to not be able to do this when I see you in training every day?”“You think you’re the only one? You have no idea, Jace. None. And how about you finally get rid of those pants?”“For a first, you’re kind of pushy.”“I’m assertive.”“Sure.” Jace raised his eyebrows, but started unbuttoning and unzipping the very tight, very dark jeans he was still wearing without further ado, not moving an inch away from where he was sitting astride Alec in the process. With two fast, elegant swings of his legs he pulled them off and threw them in the next corner – and only then did Alec notice that Jace was not, in fact, wearing any underwear.“Fuck.” The word slipped breathlessly from his lips, and Jace grinned again, more than a little smugly, this time.“You wanted it this way, now don’t complain.”Alec violently shook his head. “I’m actually not complaining. Like. At all. What do I have to do?”Jace grabbed the vial next to them. “Kiss me. I’ll do the work.”Alec nodded, feeling very lightheaded all of a sudden (possibly because most of his blood had preferred to take the route south), buried his fingers in Jace’s hair and kissed him for all he was worth. One of Jace’s hands disappeared from his back after a minute, and a little later soft moans started falling from Jace’s mouth against his lips. He didn’t dare look what his parabatai was doing with his hand – he was already too close to the edge – and opted for spreading kisses and licks down Jace’s neck instead, until he felt a hand against his chest, stopping him.Alec lifted his head. His parabatai was looking at him in the most beautifully frantic way he’d ever seen. His hair was a mess, his pupils huge, his mouth kissed raw and his breath was coming in small, desperate bursts against Alec’s lips.“Now, Alec.”Two pairs of hands made short work of the boxer briefs Alec had almost forgotten he was still wearing, Jace slicked him with spilled oil and two, three erratic movements of his hand; and then Alec was sinking into him, where Jace’s heat enveloped his whole body, his whole being.“Oh, Angel, you feel good,” he said quietly into the small space between their lips, before Jace began to move and Alec lost the capability to form sentences altogether.Gladly, raising his arms still worked, so he grabbed his parabatai’s face, pushed his hair back and kissed him again, connected their mouths to each other and searched for their bond inside himself. He didn’t have to look for too long, before he found it, a strong thread brimming with Jace’s lust, his joy, his love, his ecstasy just as much as Alec’s, like a mirror looking both ways; and Alec knew that his parabatai could feel it, too, right then, his hands clutching Alec’s face, his forehead touching Alec’s, his heart beating at the same, racing rate as his. There were no words Alec could think of to describe what he was feeling and maybe that was why parabatai should never have this, never become this to each other – it was too powerful, too much for a mortal to bear; and for a few moments Alec wasn’t sure whether their bodies would really survive this.Then his long-delayed orgasm finally caught up with him, and he could feel Jace constricting around him at the same time, barely biting back another moan.When it was over they collapsed against each other, sweaty, sated and completely removed from reality, catching their breath and failing.“I’ll never want anyone else. Ever.” It was merely a whisper leaving Alec’s lips, but he felt Jace’s reaction, the tightening of his hands against his shoulder blades, the small shift of his head against his neck. “You ruined me for the rest of the world, Jace.”Finally his parabatai lifted his head and pressed his lips to Alec’s jaw in a soft kiss. “Is that a bad thing?” he murmured. “Being ruined?”“Honestly, Jace? I don’t really care any more.”A smile formed on Jace’s lips. “Well, me neither. We’ll just be ruined by each other for our whole lives.”“I’d like that. Very much.”The smile deepened. “Yeah. Me, too.”
10140884	Fickle Fortune	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Aaron Dingle, Robert Sugden, Chas Dingle, Victoria Barton, Adam Barton, Original Characters", "Fandom": "Emmerdale", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by robron_til_the_end", "chapters": "68/68", "completed": "2017-05-22", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "90,298", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst", "Relationship": "Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Lights Camera Action", "Collections": "Robron AUs (robron-til-the-end)", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“You heard about the new posh sort up at Home Farm?” Chas asked. “No,” Aaron said dully as he pulled himself out from under the car he‘d been attempting to fix. He took the coffee his mother was offering him, grateful for the break. Even if that break came with a side helping of the latest village gossip. “He’s Vic’s brother apparently,” Chas said. “Oh,” Aaron said, frowning. “The one who's in all those films?” “That’s the one,” Chas said. “Katie says he’s a right user.” “Does she?” Aaron said, trying to show with his tone that he wasn’t interested in the slightest. “Bet Vic’s glad her brother’s closer to home though?” Aaron was very close with Vic and Adam, and anything that made her happy was good with him. They were his best friends. God forbid they ever got divorced, he had no idea whose side he’d be pulled down on. “Yeah, she’s not stopped going on about it at the pub. She can’t believe he’s really coming back.” “Mum, I’m really not interested,” Aaron said. “Some rich famous git buying Home Farm? What does it really matter?” “Fine,” Chas said. “You’re just spreading gossip.” “Fine,” Chas repeated. “I’ll take that coffee back then.” Aaron pulled out of her reach, making her smile. “See you later when you’ve finished.” “This might take me all day,” Aaron warned, nodding at the car. “More complicated than I thought and I promised Cain I'd have it done.” “Okay.” “And mum? You don’t have to keep checking on me, I’m fine.” “Aaron, you’ve just got your suspended sentence, I’m allowed to worry.” “I’m an adult, I can look after myself, remember? Managed in France, didn't I?” Chas didn’t say anything else and left him to it. When Aaron got to the pub that evening, Chas had a burger and chips waiting for him. Which was great, as he was ravenous and hadn’t eaten all day. What he hadn’t counted on was the buzz of gossip in the pub about Robert Sugden, famous movie star having bought his country retreat. Everyone had obviously known he was Vic’s brother, but he hadn’t been home in ten years, so it was almost too easy for the villagers to forget. Aaron didn’t really mind the gossip. If they were talking about this new stranger, or the return of him for those who’d been around long enough to remember him, it meant they weren’t talking about Aaron any longer. The fire, running away to France, Adam actually making bail. It had all been sorted, but lately it had been the main topic of village gossip. Aaron was glad they’d moved on. “Hi.” Aaron looked up and smiled at seeing Adam. He still hadn’t quite got used to having Adam around all the time now, it had been a while. “I need a break.” “From?” Aaron asked, sliding his pint over to Adam who downed what was left of it in one. “Vic,” Adam said. “If I never hear Robert Sugden’s name again, it’ll be too soon.” “Trouble in paradise?” Aaron teased. Adam elbowed him and stole a few chips from his plate. “And that’s the lot,” one of the removal men said. “If you could sign here, that’d be great.” Robert looked around his new house, life in boxes and sighed. He wanted to live here, it felt right to come home finally, but he wasn’t one for actually unpacking. It was going to be a lot of work until the house was exactly the way he wanted it. Robert signed the paperwork easily, wanting the place to himself. “Er…” the man said. “Yes?” Robert asked. “Could I have an autograph? I mean, I know I’m not supposed to, but my daughter will kill me if I don’t so much as ask.” Robert groaned internally, but obliged anyway. They were a discreet business, which is why Robert had used them, but sometimes there really was no escaping his fame. He couldn’t complain too much though, otherwise there’d be no way he could have afforded this house in the first place. Or his pretty decent lifestyle either. Well, very luxurious lifestyle honestly. Once he was alone, Robert almost threw himself down onto his sofa, checking his phone. Ten missed calls, and a dozen texts. Not too bad, but he ignored all of them in favour of texting Vic, telling her he was settling into the new house. Ever since he’d been in the financial position to buy this building, he’d been keeping an eye on it. But it hadn’t come onto the market, and Home Farm had been standing empty for a long time. As soon as the owner put it up for sale, Robert snapped it up, overpaying for it actually. “Come and say hi, I’ve just finished work. Meet my husband? x.” Robert read the text from his sister and debated it. He could. Would get the village gossip over and done with at any rate. He couldn’t imagine that had improved over the last ten years, and what with his fame it would probably only have got worse. “On my way.” Robert walked into the pub and smiled at his now grown up sister who was at the bar. She had a wide grin on her face and she looked so different now. Robert hugged her, ignoring the whispers and the buzz from everyone else. “Hi,” he said, pulling back from her and looking at her. “God, you grew up.” “That happens when you don’t check in with me for so long,” she said, punching his arm in a friendly way. “Come and meet Adam.” “Sure he’s good enough for you?” Robert asked, narrowing his eyes. Vic slapped him playfully again and grabbed Robert’s hand, pulling him to the booth in the corner, ignoring the villagers who were buzzing at having someone so famous here. Except for Andy and Katie at the other side of the pub. who looked distinctly less than pleased. “This is my husband, Adam,” she said, looking at the open cheerful man on the right. “And our friend, Aaron.” This Aaron seemed sullen and most definitely grumpy, looking at the table and not so much as glancing in Robert's direction. “Hi,” Adam said, a wide smile on his face, standing up to shake Robert’s hand. “Vic’s told me a bit about you.” “I'm sure it’s all lies,” Robert replied easily. “Are you good enough for my sister then?” “Er…” Adam said, the smile slipping as his eyes flicked to Vic. “He’s having you on,” Vic said easily, sitting next to Adam. “I should go,” Aaron said darkly. “Don’t want to interrupt the family reunion do I?” Aaron got up and Robert sat down where he had been, watching him leave around the back of the bar and through the back. “He seems cheerful,” Robert said sarcastically. “That’s just Aaron,” Adam said with a shrug. “He takes some time to warm up.” “Anyway,” Vic said quickly. “Life goes on here the way it always does. What’s been happening with you?” “Vic…” “Come on,” she urged. “Give me a little bit of gossip. The most I see of you is in those trashy celebrity magazines these days. You never call and you never come home.” “Isn’t it enough that you’re going to be seeing me a lot more now?” Robert asked. “Can’t you tell me anything about your world?” Vic asked, fluttering her eyelashes. “No,” Robert said. “They serve pints in here?” “I’ll get this round,” Adam said, leaving both siblings alone. Rationally, Robert knew she was married, but seeing her so in control of her life was… different. Good. It was hard to reconcile this to the young teenager he’d left behind when his dad kicked him out all those years ago with nowhere to go. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Robert got up the next morning, feeling good. His sister was happy. Privately Robert wasn’t sure if this Adam really was right for her, but they both seemed completely smitten and he wasn’t about to argue it. After everything, it was good to see her doing so well. Robert went into the kitchen and sighed when he realised it had nothing in it besides a coffee machine. When he’d had his place in London, he never had to worry about keeping the kitchen stocked, one of his assistants did it for him. Usually because he’d been so busy with PR and filming that he was rarely home anyway. It had totally escaped his attention that he wouldn’t have cereal or bread for toast in the house for breakfast. One reason he’d come back to Emmerdale was that he wanted a bit of normal now, out of the insanity of the spotlight. He wasn’t totally stupid, he knew that he’d never escape the press completely, but that didn’t mean he had to live with it constantly. The middle of the Yorkshire dales was as good a bolt hole as anywhere else.“Idiot,” Robert said to himself, closing the door of the empty fridge. He was hungry and he had three missed calls from his agent. Sighing, Robert returned the calls as he went to his car. “What do you want Steve?”“Checking you hadn’t vanished off the planet entirely,” he replied.“I’m in Yorkshire, not on Mars,” Robert countered briefly as he sat behind the wheel of his car, waiting for this mundane conversation to finish. “What do you want?”“It’s going to come out in the press about Sara’s heroin addiction,” Steve said. “Wondered if you want to make a comment?”“No,” Robert said briefly.“You’ve costarred with her in seven films.”“Yeah, and she’s been injecting that stuff into her body for at least four of them. Difficult to film with someone who’s high ninety percent of the time.”“Robert, don’t be difficult,” Steve said exasperated.“I’m no longer associated with her,” Robert said coldly. “Spin it, isn’t that your job?”“You know, you sound really sympathetic to someone with a drug addiction,” Steve said.“I tried sympathetic for years,” Robert said. “She didn’t want to hear it.”“Fine, I’ll spin it,” Steve said. “God, she’s giving me hell.”“Not my problem,” Robert said, though his tone was light this time. “Aren’t you glad you have someone as easy to manage as me?”“Don’t push it,” Steve said. Robert laughed and hung up the phone and started driving into the village for supplies. Or that was the plan. By the time he got down there, he realised his pride and joy, namely his car was squeaking at him, a slightly alarming noise coming from the engine. Clearly the drive up from London didn’t agree with it.But first things first, he needed feeding, so he ordered a breakfast from the café. Bob remembered him from when he was an errant teenager, so treated him normally enough. Though he did notice the other customers were not so willing, he picked up a paper he had no interest in reading and tried to put people off talking to him. When Bob brought his breakfast over, he asked if there was still a garage in the village.“Oh, yes,” he said. “Debbie and Cain own it, across the road. Lost your touch?” Bob asked with a grin.“I’ve not touched an engine in years,” Robert said. “And I wasn’t a brilliant mechanic as a teenager either. I’d rather not experiment on my car and make the situation worse.”“Fair enough,” Bob said with a wink. Robert drove up to the garage, unfortunately noticing that the engine noise had become even louder. He parked in what looked like a queue and went to look at someone to take a look at his car. Much to his surprise, the man with the clipboard in the blue overalls was Aaron, who he’d met only briefly the night before.“Hi,” Robert said, making him look up.“What do you want?” Aaron asked bluntly.“Man of few words,” Robert tried. When that got no reaction except a stare, Robert sighed. “My car needs looking at today. It’s making a noise from the engine, don’t think the two hundred mile journey did it much good.”“Sorry, can’t do it,” Aaron said with a smile, seeming to get a kick out of telling Robert no for a perfectly legitimate reason. “We’re fully booked today, you’ll have to wait your turn.”“I’ll pay extra,” Robert said, surprised at Aaron’s response. This was new, ever since he’d made it big, he barely had to ask for anything. Most people were falling over themselves to help him, but not Aaron it seemed.“I don’t care how much money you’ve got,” Aaron said. “Locals, our regulars got here first. You go to the back of the queue no matter how many film sets you’ve been on.”“Oh, you don’t like me, do you?” Robert said.“I don’t like people throwing their weight around,” Aaron corrected. “Your money doesn’t impress me. The fame thing, I don’t care. I don’t think sitting in front of a camera for most of your life makes you that special myself.”Robert smiled. It had been a while since he’d met someone new and so wonderfully normal around him. Usually it took a while for new people to get used to him, the real him behind the camera. “Fine,” Robert said. “Tomorrow. I can wait.” He passed Aaron the keys and their fingers brushed. Robert knew he hadn’t imagined the gentle sensation of their skin touching. Especially when Aaron’s eyes flicked up to his, almost holding a challenge.“How’re you getting back up to Home Farm?” Aaron asked as Robert moved away from him, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.“I’ll walk,” Robert said easily. It was a nice morning, the walk up to the top of the village could be good to clear his mind.“Didn’t think you‘d lower yourself to mere walking,” Aaron countered.“Oh, how much you have to learn about me, Aaron,” Robert said with a smile. No, that was a self satisfied smirk. Aaron watched him leave, biting his bottom lip. It was only after he’d disappeared from sight that Aaron realised he’d been focusing with a single minded attention on Robert’s arse in those jeans. Mm. No. Stop that line of thought right now. Aaron knew he shouldn’t. Knew no good could come of this, but in the privacy of his own bedroom that night, he googled Robert Sugden. He hadn’t really paid much attention to him before. Sure, he’d seen a few of his films, couldn’t help it with how much exposure he got, but never really been interested in knowing the slightest bit more about him, other than knowing that he’s Vic’s brother.Thousands of results turned up, interviews he’d given, photo shoots, his major films, award nominations, so Aaron changed the search, adding the word “personal.” A hell of a lot of photos came up when he went under the image search. Generally there were two types of shots, candid ones that had been captured of him leaving some club in the small hours, or posed ones, for premiers and similar. All of them showed him with a different woman, never appearing with the same one twice. Actually, the only woman who did turn up more than once with him was Vic. But Aaron did notice that all of Robert’s acquaintances were women, and he closed the search. He didn’t want to focus on it. If Robert didn’t like men, that would be the end of that particular fantasy, wouldn’t it? And if Aaron spent a few more seconds than he should do looking at some arty topless shots of him online, that was no ones business but his own. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “I bring supplies,” Vic said, letting herself into Home Farm with the spare key Robert had given her earlier. “Though if you’d have told me I’m buying food because my multi millionaire thirty year old brother can’t look after himself…”“My car died,” Robert reminded her. “And yeah, I could have wasted money on getting food delivered today, but why do that when I could see my beautiful sister?”“Flattery isn’t going to get you everywhere,” she said, slamming the fridge shut. Robert pushed a cup of tea towards her and she softened slightly. “Gossip might, though.”“What?”“How much did you get for your last film?” Vic asked, studying him closely. “It’s just... there’s rumours going around and I can’t argue with them if I don’t know. I want to defend you!”“You’re being a nosey cow,” Robert said, though it was said with affection.“Someone said twenty million.”“No, it’s not that much,” Robert said instantly. Then seeing that Vic wasn’t going to let it drop. “Six.”“Million?” Vic asked, jaw dropping.“Mm,” Robert said distractedly.“And I’m employed as your skivy, bringing you up food, when you’ve got that kind of cash in the bank?!” Vic said, slapping his arm. “Bloody hell.”“Well, taxes take a big chunk,” Robert said defensively. “And I wouldn’t want to be one of those idiots caught not paying my taxes, would I?” Vic laughed in spite of herself. “And I didn’t plan for the car to start making random noises at me either.”“Buy a new car,” Vic suggested. “Is buying this place your “I need to settle down” kind of thing?”“Maybe,” Robert said. “I don’t know. I’ll never spend the money I’ve got, I don’t actually have to work ever again but… what’d be the point of that?” Vic shrugs.“Give some of your cash to me. I’m sure I’d have fun spending it.” Robert laughed. “Any special woman in your life?”“No.”“Rob, come on.”“There isn’t.”“I see pictures of you plastered all over the press, and the internet. You could at least give me something,” Vic wheedled.“It’s casual,” Robert said. “Everyone I see is very casual, no one actually wants me. I get no privacy, because everyone wants the man they see on the films, and that’s not who I am, Vic. You know that. Whenever I spend the night with a woman, she‘s snapped by a dozen photographers leaving the hotel.”“Could always bring her home instead of some cheap hotel,” Vic suggested.“No, the hotel is not cheap,” Robert said. “And anyway... Home’s private.”“I’ve been to that London flat of yours. Very posh.”“I don’t want people there who’re… almost strangers. No one actually… wants me.”“You’re lonely,” Vic realised.“Yeah,” he said. “Guess that’s why I found my way back home.” He put his arm around his sister and hugged her for a moment. “Listen, what’s with Aaron?”“What do you mean?” she asked.“Took my car in and he’d barely give me the time of day.” Not strictly true. “He doesn’t seem to like me much.”“He’s quite… blunt,” Vic said. “But he’s a good guy, he really is. He’s Adam’s best mate and he’s family to me.”“He doesn’t say anything.”“Probably not impressed by your attitude of “money can fix the problem.””“I don’t go around like that,” Robert said. Vic just looked at him. “Do I?”“You have a certain… arrogance about you,” she said. “Don’t worry, it’s part of your charm.”“So glad you came over now,” Robert said sarcastically.“Couldn’t have you starving, could I?” Robert walked down into the village early the next morning to check on his car. Though he knew it wouldn’t be ready, he just wanted to have a look at it. What surprised him was Aaron was already there. It could only be about eight in the morning, so he was clearly a keen worker. And he was working on his car.“Surprised to see you here,” Robert said. Aaron turned around and slammed the bonnet shut, a little more aggressively than Robert was comfortable with.“Cain said I had to get this one done,” Aaron replied. “Security risk apparently. Didn’t want this flash car hanging around longer than absolutely necessary.”“Cain here?”“No,” Aaron replied. “You’re stuck with me. It’s all done though.”“That quick?”“We had the replacement part in stock, so it didn’t take long,” Aaron said with a shrug. Then he looked at the car again. “I had to get my hands on it,” Aaron said, looking at the car with almost lust. “I’d never get to own anything like this. It was good to work on.”“Want to drive it?” Robert suggested. Where the hell had that come from? No one touched his cars, ever. He was incredibly possessive over them.“No,” Aaron said, though it was clear he was tempted. “Probably be blamed for crashing your car or something.”“I’m insured to the hilt,” Robert said. “You could drive it if you wanted.” Why was he pushing this? It had nothing to do with the fact those overalls were rolled up to Aaron’s elbows, his muscular forearms attracting more of his attention than they should. Careful now. You have no idea about this man, and if you throw yourself at him and he’s not interested in you, he could call a press conference tomorrow. Robert had kept his bisexuality a secret, and he liked it that way. He didn’t want the extra media attention, and he didn’t want to be anyone’s kind of role model. And it would be a big deal for his career too, even if everyone said it wouldn’t. His typical “heart throb” roles where he always got the girl would dry up, and that would be it. He’d just be some washed up actor who had a good four or five years of success. No, his private life was better kept private. Which meant he couldn’t throw himself at surly moody mechanics no matter how good they may look in their overalls.“Do you need a script or can you manage to hold a conversation without one?” Aaron said. Robert realised he’d been staring while he thought things through.“No, think I can wing it on my own,” he countered back, getting his wallet out of his pocket. “What do I owe you?”“Oh, the great Robert Sugden carries cash, does he?” Aaron said, going into the back of the garage to get the paperwork.“No, just plastic,” Robert said. “But only until I can find a butler to take care of things so mundane as money.” Aaron let out a laugh, a laugh that lit up his eyes and made them sparkle. Made him look a hell of a lot younger too. Robert gave him his card, but Aaron cursed as the card machine didn’t seem to be working.“It’s always doing this, the connections so bad here,” he said under his breath, whacking the machine against the side.“I’ll pay later when the machines fixed,” Robert said. “If that’s okay. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t carry that much cash with me.”“Yeah,” Aaron said, handing him his credit card back. “I think you’re good for it.”“Oh, I’m definitely good for it.” Robert made sure to make his words drip with innuendo and Aaron’s eyes dropped to his lips. Just for a second, but it was there. Robert almost grinned with satisfaction. “Keys please.” Aaron handed them over. “Thanks.” Aaron watched him get into his car and leave, pretty damn sure that had been flirting. He didn’t read that much into things that weren’t there. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Robert decided to do some digging. He looked on facebook for Aaron’s page, purely because he needed to know if he liked men. And that wasn’t the kind of thing someone like Robert could just ask an almost stranger. If Aaron wasn’t a discreet person, which he may not be, it might create a media storm he didn’t want. It wasn’t that he was ashamed because he wasn’t, but a lot of personal stuff did tend to get in the way, and he wanted his career to be a success. Not one of those who crashed and burned.Aaron's facebook page didn’t make it immediately obvious so Robert had to scroll back a bit. Then there it was. This guy called Ed. Rugby player. Fit. Actually, very fit. As well as a brief dart of jealousy, Robert felt relieved. Not barking up the wrong tree then. Just what exactly was he going to do about it? Aaron was livid. Robert had paid for his car repairs, pushing an envelope through the garage door. It was filled with about five hundred quid extra than the bill actually came to. Aaron separated the money, then looked at the five hundred pounds. What the hell was Robert Sugden playing at? Why would he give an extra five hundred quid? Was he trying to buy Aaron? No, don’t be so bloody stupid. But what was the other option? Five hundred pounds was one hell of a tip for a job well done. The more he thought about it, the more it pissed him off. Because if Robert was trying to bribe him, or buy him in any kind of way, then Aaron knew he’d been completely misjudged.He’d been thinking about it all day, which meant by the time he’d finished work, he’d made a decision. Without examining it too closely, he drove up to Home Farm. Aaron got annoyed all over again when there was an intercom at the gates, preventing him from driving down to the house. No element of surprise then, where Robert was concerned. Aaron was too wound up to even think that something like this could possibly be necessary for someone as famous as Robert and he wound the car window down, pushing the intercom.“Yes?”“It’s Aaron,” he said, heading into angry territory now. “Or am I considered too dangerous for you to open the gates?”“Come in,” Robert said, a buzzing noise making the gates start to open. Aaron could not have rolled his eyes more. What a pretentious twat. Once he was able, Aaron drove down and parked quickly before ramming his fist against the front door instead of knocking.“Don’t try and break my door down,” Robert said after opening it. “What’s your problem?”“Five hundred quid?!” Aaron questioned, holding the roll of notes up. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”“Little bonus for a job well done,” Robert said, realising too late that that had sounded way too condescending. “For the car,” he added. “It’s running perfectly.”“Oh, so what, you think chucking me a few quid’s going to make us be friends, do you?” Aaron said angrily, throwing the money at Robert, making the notes scatter everywhere. “I don’t want your money! You can’t buy me, if you’d wanted us to be mates, buy me a pint!”“I’ll remember that for next time,” Robert said.“No, there is no next time,” Aaron said. “I want nothing more to do with you, you can’t always throw money around to get people to like you! God! You’re nothing like Vic, I don’t know how you’re related.”“Aaron, wait,” Robert said quickly as Aaron moved to the car. He grabbed Aaron’s arm and then blinked as he was flung back.“Get your hands off me or the next time you're on a film set I’ll guarantee you’ll have a black eye,” Aaron threatened, pointing at him.“I’m not trying to buy you Aaron!” Robert shouted. “It was… just some stupid idea and… look, I’m sorry.” He sighed but genuinely looked contrite and Aaron paused. Then realised his mistake. Robert was an actor, one worth millions. He could choose to look any way he wanted to, that was his job.“You’re just toying with me,” Aaron said. “Playing around with me. It’s how you get your kicks, isn’t it? Always has been from what I hear.” Aaron glared at him, daring Robert to challenge him.Robert couldn’t believe this. The money was supposed to be a joke, a nothing. And now they were fighting about it outside his front door in the dark? “Always has been from what I hear."“Yeah, because the gossip is so reliable,” Robert said sarcastically. “I’m sorry about the cash, forget about the money. I… wanted to see you.”“Why?” Aaron asked. “Couldn’t go into the pub like a normal person?”“In case you haven’t noticed, nothing about my life is normal, Aaron. I‘ll never get normal again, I’m too well known.”“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” Aaron asked in disbelief.“Aaron, would you just shut up for five seconds, please!” Robert was getting frustrated beyond belief, but seeing Aaron this angry and almost aggressive was a turn on, and it shouldn’t have been. Robert moved before he consciously allowed it and kissed him, half expecting to be thrown back or punched. It didn’t come. It was a brief kiss, just a press of lips while Robert’s hand moved to cradle his face. Aaron looked dazed and Robert wondered for a second or two if he’d been incredibly stupid to even think that that argument could have had any sexual tension in it. But Aaron’s bright eyes told him he’d read this right. His eyes flicked to Robert’s lips, then Aaron moved and kissed him again. This time, with no surprise, it was deeper. Robert allowed himself to enjoy it, the taste of Aaron, the desire and the want. The slight brush of his stubble against Robert’s face, the sighing and gasping as he drew back for breath before coming back for more. Aaron’s hands were clinging to his leather jacket, pulling him close as the kiss went on and on. Robert could feel his body and wanted to taste more, like he’d been starving for this for far too long. He wanted to get Aaron undressed and in his bed as soon as possible. He slid his hands down to Aaron’s arse, pulling him as close as it was possible to be.“No,” Aaron said suddenly, pulling away, forcing them apart, breathing heavily. “I have to go.”“What? Why?!” Robert asked, completely disorientated.“Because we both know you’re not going to stick around for long,” Aaron said as he got into his car. He didn’t say anything else as he drove off, leaving Robert feeling confused and alone. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When Aaron parked outside the pub, he was still breathing heavily, replaying those last few moments in his head. Because that could not have just happened, Robert could not have just thrown himself at him. Things like that didn’t happen, though Aaron’s kiss bruised lips told a very different story. And he tasted good. So good that it had been a real struggle to pull away when it had been obvious Robert would have been up for more. He tried to examine why he did pull back. Because the Robert Sugdens of this world don’t go for guys like you. Wasn’t aware he went for guys at all. Aaron sighed and got out of his car. Sitting here thinking about it wasn’t helping.He went into the house and found Chas at the kitchen table. “Got time for a chat?” she asked in a bright voice.“No,” Aaron said darkly.“Aaron, you’ve been in a mood for days, and I’m really trying not to worry about you.”“Mum, I’m fine,” he said, exasperated. He couldn’t blame her for worrying, but he was okay. “Just been busy at work.”“If you’re sure…?” she said. “You’ve not been… hurting yourself again?”“God, no,” Aaron said instantly. That thought hadn’t occurred to him. “I’m honestly fine, now I need a drink.” Aaron went through and poured himself a pint, which he took upstairs with him. He wanted some time alone to think. Robert hadn’t slept well. Why had Aaron pushed him away? He’d enjoyed it, Robert knew he had, and his body had felt incredible so why stop? One thing Robert knew was he wasn’t about to let this go. Aaron had felt too good and even if he walked away, his body was obviously willing. Robert drove down to the garage the next day, not feeling in the mood to be particularly patient right now. Though he had made sure he looked good before leaving. Jeans, deep blue shirt and his usual leather jacket. He had noticed Aaron’s eyes hovering over that jacket before, could still feel Aaron’s hands pulling him close by his jacket.Robert walked up to the garage, hearing the general noises of car repair. “Hi. You alone?” Robert asked, seeing Aaron elbow deep in an engine, sleeves rolled up. He should not look that good splattered in oil. Aaron’s eyes flicked up at Robert only for a second before he returned his attention to the car.“Dan’s on a coffee run,” Aaron said. “Cain’s looking at Moira’s car up at the farm.” Robert took that as a yes.“Why did you run last night?” Robert asked bluntly.“Maybe you’re not that special,” Aaron said, challenging him but keeping his eyes on the car. “Ever think of that?”“Aaron…”“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not about to advertise that you like a bit of rough on the side. I’m not a gossip.”“I didn’t think you were, but… Do you have such a low opinion of me?” Robert asked almost in disbelief.“I’m realistic,” Aaron said. “There is no way that someone like you is going to bother with someone like me for more than a bit of fun.”“And you object to a bit of fun, do you?”Aaron straightened up, looking at Robert straight on with eyes that seemed to see right through him. “No, I don’t. But I won’t be used, that’s all.”“And what do you mean by someone like me?” Robert asked curiously.“Your life is not meant to be lived tucked up in a quiet Yorkshire village,” Aaron said. “I see the papers, I know you’ll vanish and go off filming God knows what and probably never come back here. They’re already speculating why you’ve moved out of London and I’m not naïve.” Robert didn’t mention that for Aaron to know all that meant he’d definitely googled him at the very least. But he wanted to disregard that, his manic life didnt effect how he felt for Aaron. And he wanted him.“Look, the footballs on tonight. Come and watch the England match up at mine this evening,” Robert said. “I want to see if I can change your mind about me.” Aaron considered it, but Robert didn’t wait for an answer walking away. Arrogant, Aaron thought. But he also felt fairly sure he was going to go. He didn’t have it in him to turn down an offer like that. Aaron couldn’t pin down exactly why he felt nervous as he went to Home Farm that night, but he did. The gate still annoyed him, but he tried to ignore that. Everyone had noticed that over the last week or so a few photographers liked to hang around, see if they could get any photos of Robert, so Aaron knew it was necessary. “Hi,” Robert said with an easy confidence as he let Aaron into the house. Aaron looked around, feeling completely out of place in this house. It was very upmarket, but then he’d known it would be. “Beer?” Robert suggested, leading the way into the kitchen. “Please,” Aaron said. “Vic’s been here, hasn’t she?”“Yes,” Robert said with warmth. “How can you tell?”“Fridge magnets,” Aaron said. Vic firmly believed a kitchen needed to be lived in, and the posh, almost sterile surroundings would bother her. The fridge magnets were undoubtedly Vic’s influence. As were (Aaron guessed) the fresh flowers on the kitchen table.“I’ve missed her,” Robert said honestly. “My life… well, I don’t always get time to spend with her. Missed my own fathers funeral because I was contracted to be in Los Angeles at the time.”“I heard you didn’t much get on with Jack Sugden much, though.”“No,” Robert said. “Still liked to have been here.” Robert passed him the beer and their fingers brushed as they went into the lounge and Robert flicked the TV on. It was the prematch discussion which neither man was actually interested in. Hopefully England would thrash France, even if it’s only a friendly.“How did you get into acting?” Aaron asked.“When he kicked me out, my father said the only thing I was ever good at was lying, and making people believe anything I said.”“I heard that’s called manipulating,” Aaron replied.“Yeah, most people around here would think that,” Robert said, shaking his head slightly. “But dad was right, it was the only thing I could do. Making people believe me. At least I found some idiots who‘d pay me well for it.”“Speaking of, aren’t you supposed to be off filming in Berlin right about now?” Aaron said. Robert stared at him, lips twitching. “Or anywhere,” Aaron said, trying to back pedal.“And how exactly do you know I’m supposed to be in Germany?” Robert asked, voice low.“Vic.”“Aaron, don’t lie,” Robert said. “Vic doesn’t know where I'm meant to be, so you must have looked me up.”“All right, yeah I did,” Aaron said, looking adorably embarrassed making Robert smile. “I can’t help being curious about you.”“I’m choosing to see that as flattery,” Robert said. “Not stalker like behaviour.”“You’re not worth the time to stalk, mate,” Aaron said, glad that Robert wasn’t offended.“I don’t really like football,” Robert admitted as the players walked onto the pitch.“But it’s an international match?” Aaron said. “Case of national pride, you’ve got to support England.” Robert rolled his eyes. “And if you didn’t care, why did you invite me here?”“I’d have used any excuse to see more of you,” Robert said, voice soft. Aaron’s eyes dropped to his mouth, a tell Robert was quickly learning meant he wanted to be kissed. Robert moved, but stopped just a hairs breadth away from Aaron’s lips. He could feel Aaron’s breath rushing against his own mouth. “Not going to panic and run?” Robert whispered.“Try me.” Robert kissed him, making sure to keep himself under control, even as he pushed Aaron back against the sofa, looming over him. Robert didn’t want to lose himself until he knew Aaron wasn’t going to get up and leave. Aaron looked at him, surprised when he stopped.“Making sure you’re not going anywhere,” Robert said. “I’m not having my evening ruined two nights running.”“I ruined your night, did I?” Aaron teased, at the same time his fingers sliding under the hem of Robert’s shirt. His fingers were warm and sure on his spine, sliding up his skin, making Robert shiver. He wanted Aaron’s hands everywhere on his body right now.“Mm,” Robert admitted. “I’ve wanted to see what’s under your overalls since I first saw you leaning over a car.”“Have you now…” Aaron pushed himself upwards and kissed him deeply, passionately. Giving Robert everything he had and Robert lost control. He had to have Aaron. It was that simple. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Aaron woke up in the pitch black. Or almost pitch black, as the only light was coming from the digital clock on the bedside table. 2:12am. He should leave. Aaron didn’t share a bed often, and he rarely stayed all night when he had a one night stand. The mattress was comfortable, incredibly so, even with Robert’s almost possessive hand on his hip. Aaron couldn’t wake up here in the morning. To be removed like rubbish and never see Robert again. He gently removed Robert’s hand and got out of bed slowly, trying to find his clothes. He put his underwear on, then he remembered that most of his clothes were downstairs. They’d had sex on the sofa, quick, frantic and desperate before moving upstairs for a more leisurely round two. Robert had slept with men before, that much was obvious. He was too okay with what was happening, initiating a lot of the contact between them for it to be otherwise.“What’re you doing?” Robert asked sleepily, rolling over into the empty space that Aaron had left.“Going home,” Aaron said, throwing his very crumpled T shirt on.“No,” Robert murmured, reaching for the light and turning it on. “Stay, I want you to stay.”“Robert, you don’t want to wake up with me.”“Please.” Robert pouted at him, his eyes now open and sparkling at him.“When’re you going to learn?” Aaron asked, leaning over him and kissing his bare shoulder briefly. “Your charm doesn’t let you get everything your own way.”“I’ll cook breakfast,” Robert said. “If you stay, I’ll cook you breakfast.”“You can cook?” Aaron asked in disbelief.“Stay and find out.” Aaron thought about it for half a second more before curling up in bed with him. Robert grinned, looking reminiscent of the cat who’d got the cream and Aaron wanted to wipe that look off his face, hating that he was giving in. But the mattress was comfortable. And Robert sure as hell wasn’t the worst person he’d shared a bed with. Incredibly fit too, those online photos didn’t do him any justice at all. Robert turned the light back off and put an arm around him and pulled Aaron close, a hand on Aaron’s arse. Aaron allowed himself to relax a little and rested his head on Robert’s chest. It felt incredibly good to be held, to feel Robert’s strong arms around him. Now they were both awake Robert was more alert than he’d been previously. Robert moved and stroked his fingers along Aaron’s left forearm, where the prominent scar was that had obviously been self inflicted.“Do you want to talk about it?” Robert asked.“No.”“Aaron…”“None of your business,” Aaron said coldly. “If you really don’t value my privacy, ask Vic. Or Adam. They know, but I don’t talk about it. I’ll need to trust you first.”“Okay,” Robert said quietly. “I won’t pry.”“Good.” The next time Aaron woke, sunlight was streaming in from the floor to ceiling windows which he hadn’t noticed the night before. He’d been a bit distracted. He could feel the scratches on his thighs and felt fairly sure Robert had left imprints of his teeth in the top of his shoulder. And right now he could hear Robert on the phone, voice incredibly tight and sounding unhappy.“No, I told you I was busy.” A pause as Aaron blinked himself awake, admiring the sight of him. Robert wore a pair of jogging bottoms, low on his hips, showing off his pale skin and freckled back. “You told me I was done. No. I’ve already given you an extra… fine. No, not from London. Book the flight from Manchester.” Aaron’s heart sank. “Two days, and that‘s it. Bye.” Robert dropped the phone on the bedside table, seeing Aaron awake. “Oh. Morning. Did I wake you?” Aaron shook his head. “You do know that if you want to make the point to your one night stand that there’s nothing more, you don’t have to leave the country to do it.”Robert smiled, perching on the edge of the bed. “If I wanted to get rid, I’d have told you to get out when you tried to slink away in the middle of the night.”“Fair enough,” Aaron said. “Guess that offer of breakfast isn’t coming?”“Sorry,” Robert said. “I’ve got to go. Pack and get on a flight.”“Which exotic location are you swanning off to then?” Aaron asked.“Berlin, you were right. They keep messing me around and telling me they’ve finished with me and…” Robert sighed heavily. “I’ll see you when I get back,” he promised. “I won’t be long.”“No,” Aaron said quietly. “You won’t see me when you get back home.”“What?” Robert frowned at him.“Look, we both know that this, whatever it is, can’t go anywhere. You’re not going to come out, so let’s just leave it.”“Aaron, I’m not gay,” Robert said. Even though Aaron had expected it, it hurt.“So what, last night was just a serious lapse, was it?”“I’m bi,” Robert said. “Something for which I am not going to apologise.”“Okay,” Aaron said slowly. “But that’s not common knowledge, is it?”“No, and I don’t want it to be,” Robert said. Aaron sighed. “You honestly have no idea what would happen if the press got hold of this. It would be a media shit storm I don’t want. And you wouldn’t either, by the way. I’ve lived with the press for years, I know how it works.”“Robert, I’m not saying…” Aaron sighed heavily again. “Forget about that because… it’s just one night, right?”“I don’t think I can get you out of my system after one night,” Robert said honestly, eyes glowing. “I don’t want to go to bloody Berlin, I want to stay here with you.”“I don’t do the fake flattery thing,” Aaron said, getting out of bed.“How about genuine flattery then?” Robert questioned, pressing a kiss to Aaron’s waiting lips. Then his phone rang again. Robert sighed but answered it.“Hi Kat,” he said. “Yep. I’ll be there this afternoon, just waiting for my flight to be confirmed. Well, I didn’t fancy doing what you do and staying in Germany for an extra two weeks while digging my claws into German men.” Aaron raised his eyebrow at Robert who caught his eye and smiled. “Look, I’ve got to go.” Robert disconnected the call.“And who’s that?” Aaron asked.“Oh, it’s Kat. Catherine Dujardin,” he added at Aaron’s blank look. “Co star.”“The blonde supermodel?”“Didn’t think you’d know who she is,” Robert said in surprise.“I wouldn’t,” Aaron said. “Adam’s rather partial to her.”“Oh, is he?” Robert asked. “Good to know.” A thought had occurred to Aaron as he lay in bed. Robert was, and always would have women throwing themselves at him. And Aaron didn’t want anyone else touching him. How could he be possessive after one night? Robert was in no way his and probably would never be.“I should go.”“I owe you breakfast,” Robert said.“Another day then,” Aaron said. “I’ll expect a full English.”“Count on it,” Robert said seductively. Aaron tried and failed for his tone of voice not to affect him. Aaron came home and unfortunately bumped into Chas in the hall. “Good morning. Where have you been?” she asked, clearly nosey.“Out,” Aaron said.“With?”“Just this guy,” Aaron said. “It’s no one.”“No one who keeps you away from your house all night?” she called up the stairs. Aaron didn’t reply. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “You’re in a bitter mood,” Kat said, fluttering her eyelashes at Robert. Robert just shook his head. He liked Kat, she was a genuine friend who’d never once tried it on with him, or vice versa. They were holed up in his hotel room that evening, starting on the whisky after a trying day.“Phone call this morning dragged me away from something I’d much rather be doing,” Robert admitted. “And it’s been a long day.” It had, it was now one in the morning and they’d just finished filming for the day. The production crew were crap, they’d told him he was finished a couple of weeks ago, but had changed their minds. Useless.“Is that something or someone you’d rather be doing?” Kat asked, looking at him pointedly.“Catherine…”“There’s a reason you moved out of your London pad to some tiny village I’ve never heard of in the middle of the English countryside,” she said. “Settling down?”“No, going home,” Robert said. “My sister lives there, my parents are buried there. Plus I’m the wrong side of thirty, I don’t need to spend every week of the year clubbing.”“So you’re telling me you haven’t met someone,” Kat pushed.“I didn’t say that,” Robert said casually.“Right, so… if I threw myself at you, you’d turn me down?”“Absolutely,” Robert said, swilling his whisky in his glass. “But that’s nothing to do with my personal life, it’s because you’re a mate and if you came onto me I‘d know you‘d had too much to drink.”“You kissed me all afternoon,” Kat said.“With thirty people watching and a camera crew,” Robert pointed out.“Details,” Kat said, waving her hand at him. “Let’s go out, let’s hit the clubs, I could do with meeting some gorgeous guy.”“No,” Robert said.“Ha!” Kat replied, pointing at him. “Knew there was someone.”“It’s the small hours of the morning, I just want to sleep.”“That’s never stopped you before,” Kat said. “Come on, you don’t have to do anything, hold my purse while I dance inappropriately with some fit German hunk.”“No, I need to make a call.”“Who is she?” Kat asked.“None of your business,” Robert asked. “And I’d like some privacy, so… I’m going to ask you to leave.”“Spoil sport,” she said. “Ah well,” she said, hoping off the bed and checking her hair in the mirror. “You always were too good for me.”“Go on, get out of here,” Robert said easily. She smiled and blew him a friendly kiss before vanishing from the room. Robert double checked the door was locked and got his phone out. He called Aaron. He’d got the number from the garage when he’d taken his car in.“What…?” came Aaron’s grumble when he finally answered.“Hello to you too,” Robert said.“Oh. It’s you.”“That doesn’t sound too enthusiastic.”“You want enthusiastic, don’t call at two in the morning,” Aaron said, though his voice had warmed up considerably. “How’s Germany?”“Boring,” Robert said. “Just finished work actually.”“You’re kidding,” Aaron said. “It’s late.”“Came back to the hotel and had a whisky. Then called you.” Aaron sighed and Robert heard what sounded like moving bed sheets. “What’re you wearing?”“Mm, no,” Aaron said. “Way too tired to work myself up.”“I’ll make it worth your while.”“No,” Aaron repeated. “Haven’t known you nearly long enough for that.”“Oh, something to look forward to then,” Robert said. “When you have known me for long enough.”“All I want from you is bacon,” Aaron said. “You still owe me.”“You’re keen for me to keep my promises,” Robert said.“I won’t stand being lied to in any way,” Aaron said, and suddenly the conversation had turned more serious.“I’m not lying to you,” Robert said.“No? Are you really interested in me? I mean, for more than just sex.”“Well, the sex was incredible,” Robert said. “But yes, I am interested. I… don’t make a habit of midnight calls to people I’m not interested in. And if I didn’t want to see you again, I’d have made that perfectly clear. Arrogant arse of a rich actor, remember?”“Yeah, I remember,” Aaron said warmly. “Just underwear. It’s late and I’m in bed, so that’s all I’m wearing.”Robert didn’t breathe for a second or two. “Colour?” Aaron chuckled down the phone. Robert had been gone for four days by the time he returned to the village. Every night he called Aaron, usually waking him up in the middle of the night, but he loved the calls. He loved the fact that it seemed Robert wanted to talk to him every day. Their conversations were generally fun and light hearted, and Aaron tried to ignore how good it felt hearing Robert’s voice. Because this, whatever this was would only be a brief fling. Robert would move on, Aaron wasn’t naïve. He could not allow himself to fall for Robert as it was as near a fact as anything could be that it wouldn’t last. Robert was smooth, knew the right way to behave to get whatever and whoever he wanted. It was part of his job after all, making people fall under his spell. Aaron didn’t want to get his heart broken, and this set up was perfect for it. He knew he was already halfway there. Even after one night together, hearing Robert’s voice felt so good. And he wanted Robert’s hands on his body again, it had been an incredibly good round of sex and he craved more.So when Robert called him at eleven in the evening, letting Aaron know he was home and did he want to see him… it didn’t take much persuasion to drive up to Home Farm.When Robert opened the door, Aaron stopped for a second. The well put together man he was used to, whether from photographs or in reality is gone. Robert looked incredibly tired, dark circles under his eyes, the usual sparkle gone. His hair also looked like he‘d run his hands through it constantly, almost standing on end. “Are you okay?” Aaron asked.“Mm,” he said. “Long week. Barely slept.”“I don’t have to be here,” Aaron said.“If I wanted to be alone, I wouldn’t have called you in the first place,” Robert said bluntly, letting him in. Once the door was closed, Robert kissed him, pushing him up against the wall. After quite a few days without it, he enjoyed the feeling of having Aaron’s muscular body pressed against his.“Oh, God, I’ve missed you,” Robert breathed. “Missed the way you taste.” Robert kissed him again, deeply and making it linger. When their hello kisses faded away, Robert smiled at him. “Have you eaten?”“It’s nearly midnight, so yes I’ve eaten,” Aaron said.“Mind if I eat something? I don’t like food on flights, so I’ve not had anything since breakfast.”“It’s your house,” Aaron said as they went through to the kitchen. Aaron watched as Robert stirred the pasta which was already on the oven, pausing only to make a cup of tea.“Want one?”“Beer if you’ve got it,” Aaron said. Robert chucked him a can from the fridge. “Thanks.” Aaron watched as he made his mug of tea with single minded attention.“I always do it when I come back home,” Robert said to Aaron’s look. “Nowhere in the world makes tea the way the British do. If I’m going somewhere for a long time, I take teabags with me.”“Can just imagine that,” Aaron teased. “What one thing can the famous Robert Sugden never do without? Teabags.”“Shut up,” Robert said, though his eyes were light. “God, I’ve missed you.”“You barely know me,” Aaron countered, feeling he was getting in far too deep too quickly.“I know you a lot better than most people in my life,” Robert said. "I want to keep seeing you. And I need it to stay between us, can you handle that?"Aaron considered for a moment. "We can try. But why me?"“With what I do, I usually have a lot of people around me, but not anyone who…” he tailed off and tried again. “Most people see the “famous” Robert and don’t actually want to know me. You didn’t put up with any of my shit as soon as you met me. You’re here because you like me. Or I hope you do.” For the first time, Aaron’s seeing Robert as nervous, and it’s endearing and attractive, because this isn’t a front, this is real.“I’m not here because you’re rich or famous,” Aaron said. “I actually see that as a problem, not something to boast about.”“Why?” Robert asked curiously, draining his pasta.“I like my personal life to be private,” Aaron said. “But I also won’t hide forever with you. I don’t want to have to be careful about what I say to who, or make sure that you’re never seen with me. I’m not sure how long I could even do that.”“Aaron, the fact I want to keep you… well, secret, for want of a better word doesn’t have much to do with the fact you’re a man,” Robert said. “Yes, it makes it more complicated, but…” Robert sighed. “I want more with you. But… when it comes out in the public eye, me and you will be over, and I don’t want it to be over.”“Why would it be over?”“I want something normal with someone who’s normal. The press attention will drive you mad.”“You’ve tried before?”“I had someone once. I’ve only had one serious relationship really, most people I meet are flings. Anyway, she was pretty, nice, worked in a tax office, so boringly normal. I liked her so much, but she was hounded by the press so constantly that in the end she decided it wasn’t worth it.”“Am I a fling?” Aaron asked, pushing it now they were talking openly.“No,” Robert said. “I don’t know what you are yet, but you are not someone I’m going to forget about in a hurry.” Robert started eating, leaving Aaron to think. This was getting too serious too fast, but he didn’t know exactly what he could do to stop it. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Aaron woke up first, and panicked when he realised he was in a strange bed. Then he remembered. Breathing calming down, he turned on his side to watch Robert sleep. He really was beautiful. His face scattered with freckles that he didn’t normally see. A lot of them were only visible this close. Even when seeing his films, it was hard to see them. No, you have to stop doing that, Aaron told himself. He knew he needed to stop comparing the fictitious Robert with the one lying in bed with him now. If he wanted any hope of it working, and he did.Actually, Aaron wanted Robert right now. But he didn’t want to wake him, he’d clearly had a hard few days, so he got up carefully and quietly, putting his clothes back on. He didn’t bother with his hoodie, Robert had already seen every scar on his body. So what if the short sleeved T shirt revealed more than he usually would. He went into the kitchen for breakfast, stomach rumbling and started searching for food. He took a moment, looking at the coffee maker and wondering which buttons to push to get it to work. Luckily it seemed pretty self explanatory and it started brewing away.He started going through the cupboards, looking for cereal. All he could find was some high fibre boring rubbish which he certainly wasn’t eating for breakfast. And even if he did, when he opened the fridge for the milk, he scowled as he smelt it. Definitely gone off, though that could hardly be surprising after Robert being absent for a few days. He chucked it and started looking for bread instead, he’d have toast. It was a little hard, but should be okay once it had warmed through. He poured himself a cup of coffee, feeling incredibly tired. Which was hardly surprising, in bed the night before him and Robert had talked. About useless things, fun casual things, and most Aaron taking the mick out of Robert and his charmed lifestyle. Though Robert had said that Aaron should meet Kat at some point. Apparently they’d get on well. Aaron liked the assumption that this was going to work, that Robert wasn’t thinking of chucking him any time soon.Aaron heard footsteps and grumbled, “the milks gone off, you’ll have to have black coffee.”“I’ve got more milk.” That did get Aaron turning around sharply because the voice wasn’t Robert’s. Vic stood in the kitchen, shopping bag in hand and her jaw doing a good impression of hitting the floor. “R… Robert said he was coming back and… Okay, should have called.”“Vic…” Aaron said. “Don’t… don’t…” Aaron had no idea what he was trying to say. Don’t what?!“Um… as far as I know, Robert’s not even been in the country twelve hours,” Vic said. “And… you’re here. How long? He’s barely moved into the village yet…” Vic gave her head a shake.“It’s not what you think,” Aaron said. Then cringed, because that was such a line. “Robert wants it kept quiet.”“Why?” Vic asked.“Come on, you know who he is,” Aaron said. “Different woman every night of the week, I’m sure I don’t fit the pattern.” “Got the coffee ready? I need caffeine.” Robert came into the kitchen through the interconnecting door, rather than the one leading to the hall where Vic stood. He was shirtless, clearly not having seen Vic and kissed Aaron on the mouth. Aaron stood stock still, not responding. “What’s wrong?” Robert asked. He nodded in Vic’s direction and Robert turned. “Not quite what the spare key’s for, Vic,” Robert said coldly.“I was trying to do a nice thing!” Vic said, waving the bottle of milk. “I didn’t come up here expecting to bump into your one night stand.” Aaron bristled at that. “By the way, what happened to “home’s private” and that you don’t bring your “affairs” to your house?”“Maybe I should go,” Aaron said, starting to feel incredibly uncomfortable.“You’re not going anywhere,” Robert said darkly. “I invited you here, she just turned up.”“By the way, I’ve been completely ignoring the main issue, how long’ve you been gay?!” Vic exploded, shock now giving way to her voice.“Vic, calm down,” Robert said. He glanced at Aaron gratefully as he passed Robert his own hoodie. Robert put it on, zipping it up and appreciating for half a second that it smelled like Aaron. “And I’m not gay.”“Robert, don’t lie to me!” This seemed to Aaron’s point of view that this was turning into a full blown sibling argument which he really didn’t want to get in the middle of. He tried to leave but Robert gripped his hand tightly.“Robert, it’s fine, I’ll leave.”“No,” Robert said.“You’re so stubborn!” Aaron shouted. “Your sister’s allowed to be shocked.”“Aaron, don’t get pissed with me.”“You’re the one hiding,” Aaron snapped bitterly.“He isn’t wrong,” Vic chipped in. “The world wouldn’t end if you did come out.”“Okay, both of you shut up and listen!” Robert shouted. They both fell into silence as Robert turned to Vic. “Remember a few years ago, for your sixteenth birthday. I took you on a shopping trip to Oxford street in London, covering everything. Buying you anything you wanted.”“Yeah, I remember,” Vic said.“Do you remember the following month of solid press attention those photos got because the press thought I was screwing an under age girl?”“Yes,” Vic said dully.“You remember being followed to school by paparazi until they cottoned on to the fact your last name was Sugden?” Vic didn’t say anything so Robert continued. “You think I want to put myself or Aaron through that when it isn’t necessary?” Vic looked completely convinced. “All right,” she said. “Sorry. It’s just… I know you like women and…”“I like both, Vic. Always have. I just keep it quiet, that’s all. You think I‘d get the usual heartthrob roles if people knew?”“Is this serious?” Vic asked.“It’s early,” Robert said in lieu of giving an actual answer.“And mum doesn’t know either. Please don’t tell her, she’d only give me an earful.”“I won’t,” Vic said. “But if she asks me point blank because the two of yous weren’t careful enough to hide it, I won’t lie.”“That’s fair,” Robert said.“And if Adam asks, I won’t lie either.” Aaron sighed.“But…”“He’s my husband, I will not lie to him,” Vic said firmly.“Fine,” Aaron said. “We’ll be more careful.”“Now, I was having a really good morning until you turned up,” Robert said. “We’re busy.”“Oh, by the way?” Vic said at the door. “Really happy for the two of you.” Now she’d got over the shock, she was beaming. She left the house and Robert sighed.“I need to take that spare key off of her,” Robert cursed under his breath. “Honestly, just turning up like this."“How did she get through the front gate?” Aaron asked. Neither of them had buzzed her in after all.“It’s got a code, which she knows,” Robert said. “One seven four six. If you want to know.”“Thanks,” Aaron said, appreciating the trust he was showing. Looking at Robert, having invited him into his home to sleep with him, actually sleep rather than sex, now giving him the code to the gate. “I mean it, thank you.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- One month later. “Right, you are going to sit here and talk,” Chas said firmly. Aaron would have argued, but she’d come prepared with a plate of burger and chips, and a pint. He was hungry and the lure of food was too tempting.“Talk about what?” Aaron asked before taking a sip of his drink.“Who’s the boyfriend?”“Mum…”“And don’t you dare tell me there isn’t one,” Chas continued. “I see you smiling more, you’re not complaining so much about work, and more importantly you’re not sleeping here.”“I sleep here,” Aaron said defensively.“Not lately,” Chas said. “You’re not as sneaky as you like to think. So, who is it and what’s wrong with him?”“Nothing’s wrong with him,” Aaron said.“So I’m right, this boyfriend exists, then?”“Yes, he exists,” Aaron said. “And that’s all I’m saying.”“Aaron…” she whined.“Nope,” Aaron said. He picked up his burger and started eating it determinedly.“Does he make you happy?”“Yes,” Aaron said. “He makes me very happy.”“Good. But I’m not finished being nosey.”“I know.” “Want to come with me to LA?”“Why’re you going to America?” Aaron asked confused. He’d not mentioned this before. They were currently curled up on the floor of Home Farm’s living room, entwined together, a blanket over their naked bodies.“The premiere of “State of Play.” Gotta be there, then come back here for the London one in Leicester square.”“Why’re you asking me then?” Aaron asked. “Not like I can come with you, is it?”“I’m asking you because I’m sure you’d make a couple of twelve hour flights much more interesting,” Robert said lowly. Aaron rolled his eyes. “I’m asking because I don’t want to be away from you for that long. The hotel will be paid for, you could have a few days off from work…”“You mean hide in the hotel suite in case any photographer happens to see me. While you go off with a beautiful waif to this premiere of yours.” There wasn’t any criticism in his voice, Aaron didn’t want the press attention just as much as Robert didn’t.“It’s the way it has to be until we’re sure about each other,” Robert said. “You know that.”“Doesn’t mean I like it,” Aaron said. He sighed sadly as Robert rolled away from him. “I’m not blaming you. I wish life were easier. I wish it wasn’t a big deal you being with a man. I wish it wasn’t a big deal, you being with anyone at all.”“The press know I have someone,” Robert said.“How?” Aaron asked in surprise. They’d been careful, only ever being intimate at Home Farm. Which while a little limiting, had it’s advantages. It made the building feel almost like a sanctuary.“I haven’t been seen crawling from any clubs or hotels at four in the morning with my latest conquest,” Robert said with a shrug. “The more observant journalists have noticed and it’s being speculated on.”“Oh, right,” Aaron said. “And which unsuspecting woman’s the current bookies favourite?”“No idea,” Robert said with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter. And I would like you in LA with me.”“I can’t go,” Aaron said. “You know I can’t. Too many people would ask questions if we both vanished at the same time and…”“I know,” Robert said sadly. “I know.” Something in his tone made Aaron lean on his elbow and look at him.“Do you… are you ready for us to be public?”“Maybe,” Robert said. “I’m so enjoying having you here to myself, but… you make me happy and I don’t want to hide you.” Aaron smiled at that. “I’m not ashamed of you.”“I’m not ashamed either,” Aaron said. “But… this’ll be difficult, you know it will.”“Mm,” Robert said. “It’ll be worse for you.”“Why?”“Because I’ve been living with the cameras for years, you have no idea what’s coming,” Robert said seriously.“I see journalists around the village,” Aaron said defensively.“That’s nothing, I promise you,” Robert said.“Hang on, what happened about your career?” Aaron asked. “You said being out and public would effect your career, the roles you’d get. It’s your livelihood Robert.”“Yeah, it probably will,” Robert said. “But I don’t care, because I’m in love with you.”Aaron jerked up from the floor, his eyes hurriedly running over Robert’s face in shock. He‘d never heard that, Robert had never told him. “No,” he said. “You can’t, I’m not… we’ve only been together for a few weeks and…”“Aaron, calm down,” Robert said, stroking his hair. Though he couldn’t hide the disappointment that his sentiment hadn’t been returned. “I do love you. Even when you’re stubborn and irritating as hell.”“I er… I’m so screwed up,” Aaron said, seeming sad. “Robert, you could do so much better, I’m…” Robert shut him up by putting his hand over his mouth.“Aaron, stop,” Robert said. “If you’re not ready, it’s fine. If you want to run in the opposite direction, I’d get it.”“I can’t run from you,” Aaron said. “Never could, not really. I tried the first time you kissed me. I didn’t get very far did I?”“Your fault,” Robert said lightly. “You looked too damn good oil splattered in overalls.”“That’s your weakness is it? Dirty mechanics?”“No, you’re my weakness,” Robert corrected him.“How about mum?” Aaron said. “How about we tell her and see how that goes?”“Yeah, then there won’t be a problem,” Robert said. “Because she’ll throttle me, so there won’t be any issue with how the media sees it.”Aaron hit Robert playfully and he laughed. “She knows you make me happy.”“How?”“Well, she knows whoever I'm seeing makes me happy,” Aaron corrected. “I think she’ll be okay with it. After the shock dies down.”“Mm, maybe.” But Robert didn’t seem convinced. “No, we could. She should know how important you are to me,” Robert said. Aaron kissed him sensually, Robert pouring all the love he felt for this man into one kiss.“We should go to bed,” Robert said. “As much as I’m enjoying this, my back will be screaming if we sleep on the floor.”“Old,” Aaron murmured. Robert pinched his thigh and they laughed easily. They went upstairs, curling up in bed together. It’s when Robert was very close to drifting off to sleep that he heard it. “I love you too.” It filled Robert with warmth, but at the same time he could sense Aaron’s apprehension.“Why does that scare you?” Robert asked.“I don’t know,” Aaron whispered. “Just does.” Robert shifted in bed and mouthed at his stomach, his chest.“I’m not going to leave you,” he whispered against Aaron’s skin. “It’s going to be hard, but I’m here. I’m in this.”“I’m in this too.” Aaron swallowed. “We’re in the bubble, and I like our bubble. It’s happy and good, and we’re about to burst it by telling people.”“Yes,” Robert agreed. “But the bubble’s not real life, is it?” Aaron had nothing to say to that. “We’ll be okay.”“Promise?”“Promise.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- They had decided what they were going to do. They were going to tell Chas the truth about their relationship, and then Robert was going to fly to LA for his premiere. Robert joked that on another continent might be the only way he’d be safe from Chas Dingle’s wrath. When he came back, they’d meet up in Robert’s place in London. If they still wanted to go “public” Robert would call his agent and let him deal with the unnecessary fall out.“This seems like a lot of fuss over nothing,” Aaron said one evening. “Why do we have to arrange how strangers find out about our relationship?”“We could do the alternative,” Robert suggested. “Just let some photographer catch me with my tongue down your throat?” Aaron rolled his eyes. “Thought not.”“Is it safe?” Vic called out loudly, a hand over her eyes.“Yes,” Robert said. “We’re dressed.” They were, just about, T shirts and jogging bottoms. Vic said she’d never recover from the image of her brothers arse when she’d walked in on them two weeks ago. Vic opened the bag of Chinese food she’d been delivering for them.“Money’s on the table,” Robert said. “Thanks Vic.”“The sooner Yorkshire gets delivery drivers, the better,” Vic cursed. “I like that little Chinese place in Hotten,” Robert said in his defence. “They don’t deliver.”“I am not going to be your personal slave for much longer,” Vic moaned.“You’re the only one who knows,” Robert said. “It’s just easier.”“For you,” she said.“Oh, come on, I see you eating all the prawn crackers,” Robert said, making Aaron laugh. “And this’ll be the last time.”“Oh?”“I’m flying to LA tomorrow, and when I come home the shit’ll hit the papers most likely.” Robert’s eyes slid to Aaron’s. “I don’t like hiding.”“You sure you’re ready for that?” Vic asked, but she was mostly asking Aaron.“No,” Aaron said. “I’m not sure about all the press, but I’m sure about him.” Robert couldn’t tear his eyes off of Aaron and Vic knew she was interrupting. She stole a spring roll from the Chinese takeaway then left. Robert put his large hand on the back of Aaron’s neck, pulling him closer, knowing they both liked this. Aaron loved feeling Robert’s hands on him like this, and Robert enjoyed having Aaron pliant and willing under his touch. Aaron went into the back room of the Woolpack, seeing Chas there. “Hiya love. All right?” she said.“Mum, I want to talk to you,” Aaron said.“What’ve you done?” she said, face falling. “Do I need to lie to the police, an alibi, what?”“Calm down!” Aaron said. “No, nothing like that. I just… need to sort of… come clean I guess. About this man I’ve been seeing.”The worry on Chas’s face vanished and she’s all eager. “Tell me everything! Start with a name.” They both turned as the door opened.“Hi, Diane let me through,” Robert said quickly, coming to sit next to Aaron.“If you don’t mind, this is a private conversation,” Chas said, looking at Robert with complete disdain.“I know,” Robert said. He took Aaron’s hand. Chas saw and looked at the way Aaron was looking at him.“No,” she said. “Come on, you have got to be joking! Him?!”“What exactly’s wrong with me?” Robert asked, offended as Chas spluttered.“Well, to start with, in the closet, user, manipulator, not to mention the world of trouble being with him is going to bring down on your head!”“Yeah, we have considered that,” Robert said.“I wasn’t talking to you!” Chas snapped.“Mum, I’m happy,” Aaron interjected.“Right, and are you going to be happy when your face is on the front of every magazine, when they write the most obscene things about you and…”“You buy all those magazines,” Aaron pointed out.“Yes, because they’re trash and I like a bit of escapism, not because I think anyone I know will actually be in them!” Chas snapped. “Let alone my son!”“Chas, we have thought about this,” Robert said. Chas huffed, getting up from the table and going through a pile of magazines. Both men looked at each other for a few seconds, Robert’s thumb rubbing Aaron’s knuckles gently, reassuringly.“There!” she said, flicking to a page that showed Robert kissing a brunette who wore a very skimpy dress. And about three other shots, all with different women.“Those photos must be at least a year old,” Robert said frowning at them.“Oh, and he’s meant to believe that, is he?”“Have you actually read the article mum?” Aaron asked. Chas snatched the magazine back and scanned it. The article was questioning why Robert Sugden hadn’t been seen in the limelight and hadn’t been associated with any woman in about three months. Not even the morning after shots from hotels that had become his norm.“Oh, and that reasons you, is it?” Chas asked Aaron.“Yes,” Robert said seriously. “He is.” Aaron looked at him warmly, those eyes making Robert want to pounce on him. He would if they were alone.“I’m meant to sit here and listen while you tell me you’re ruining his life?!” Chas asked.“Mum, it’s my choice,” Aaron said. He was used to her freak outs, and either he could argue and shout with her, or wait for her to burn herself out. The latter seemed to take less energy. “I want to be with him, even if it’s not ideal.”“There was me thinking I was perfect,” Robert said.“As long as we’re together I’m going to have bruised shins,” Aaron countered.“As long as we’re together, you’ll continue to bring my ego down.”“Like I have any effect on that,” Aaron said with a scowl.“Vic says you have.”“Wait, Vic knows?!” Chas interrupted.“Yeah,” Aaron said. “Walked in up at Home Farm about a month ago.”“A month?!” Chas said. “She works in my pub and she didn’t say anything!”“It was none of your business mum! And we’re telling you now.”“I really want to talk to my son alone,” Chas said, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.“Fine, I’ve got a flight to catch anyway,” Robert said.“Call me when you land?” Aaron asked urgently, making Robert nod. Even though they weren’t alone, Aaron kissed him. He couldn’t let Robert leave the country without kissing him goodbye.“Don’t forget me?”“Six days,” Robert said. “Would take a lot longer to forget you.” Aaron rolled his eyes at the line. “I’d rather have you on my arm than Kat.”“Do I need to be jealous?”“No,” Robert said firmly. “I’ll wake you up every night calling you.”“Thanks,” Aaron said. They kissed again and Robert sighed.“Bye Aaron.” Aaron adored the way Robert said his name, as if his voice was caressing it. “We don’t have the time,” he added, reading Aaron’s look.“I know. Catch your boring flight.”“Bye.” Robert kissed him once more and then was gone.“How about we skip the lecture,” Aaron said to his mother.“Right,” she said. “We’ll just assume you’re an idiot then.“We’ll be going public when he gets home from LA,” Aaron said.“You don’t want to do that,” Chas said.“No,” Aaron said. “I’m not sure I do, but one thing I know is that I can’t hide any longer. He’s important to me.”“Oh, Aaron, please tell me you’re not falling for his crap?” Chas said. “He’s an actor, he can obviously say the things you want to hear.”“He doesn’t act with me,” Aaron said.“He’ll hurt you.” Aaron didn’t argue with that, he couldn’t. It was probably true. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “You look great,” Robert said as he held his hand for Kat to get out of the car onto the red carpet.“I know,” she said with self confidence, her eyes sparkling. “So have you broken up with your new woman?”“Why’d you say that?” Robert asked, steadily ignoring the journalist and photographers.“What girl turns down a film premiere with Robert Sugden?” she said. “I know I didn’t.”“Kat…”“Which means you’ve either broken up with her, or she turned you down when you offered. And I know what I’d bet on.”“She didn’t want to come,” Robert said. “Had something better to do.”“You offered her a free stay in LA, walking down the red carpet with you on her arm, and she said no? And you’re still with her?”“Yeah, pretty much the size of it,” Robert said, not wanting to get into the exact why of it. Kat stared at him in disbelief.“Oh, my God, you love this one don’t you?” Kat said.“Yeah,” Robert said, feeling good admitting it. “Yeah, I do.”“Well she must be mental,” Kat said. “Fancy making her jealous?”“What?”“I’m a really good cover,” Kat said.“Don’t try it,” Robert warned. “Just because she didn’t want to deal with the lions of the press doesn’t mean I’m going to chuck her.”“You’ve fallen hard,” Kat said slowly. “Haven’t you?”“Yeah,” Robert admitted. “I have. And I’d like to protect…” Robert bit his tongue because he’d almost said him. And revealing that to Kat on the red carpet in front of the worlds media probably wasn’t a good idea.“You could at least show her what she’s missing,” Kat said, pressing closer to him in front of the worlds press.“Keep your claws away,” Robert said lightly.“Where’s your fun side?” “They’re looking awfully cosy,” Chas said. Aaron whipped around, annoyed that his mother had been looking at the pictures of Robert and Catherine on the red carpet over his shoulder. In spite of the fact it was incredibly late and they both should be asleep.“It’s fine,” Aaron said. “He had to take someone.”“And you’re okay with seeing her all over him like that?” Chas asked. No, he wasn’t fine. But he also wasn’t about to tell his mother that either. He didn’t want I told you so’s. It’s nothing I swear. Kat was messing around. ly x Aaron looked at his phone and realised Robert must have texted him only five minutes after the shots were released. It felt good to know he was being thought of. But then he remembered those photos again and felt cold. “Who is he?”“What?” Robert asked collapsing onto the hotel room bed. It had been a long day, he wasn’t in the mood for cryptic games. He’d undone his tie and taken his jacket off, but otherwise was still dressed from the premiere he’d just been to. Well, that and the after party. “Who’s who?” Robert asked.“Your boyfriend.”“What?! No, there’s nothing and…”“Robert, I’m not the dumb blonde I play,” Kat said quietly. “There must be a reason you were alone tonight, and I have very occasionally seen you eye up men.”“Kat…”“Plus you didn’t want me draped all over you in front of the cameras, I could tell.” Robert didn’t say anything, not really wanting to deny it when asked outright. “It’s fine,” she said. “I’m not going to announce it. Just talk to me, you’re a friend.”And it’s a relief to talk. So Robert did. “You love him?” she asked quietly, when Robert stopped talking about Aaron.“Yeah,” Robert said. “I’ve only been away from him a couple of days and I always want to be with him. I… I don’t know how I’m supposed to cope without him when I film on location.”“Where?”“I was speaking generally.” Robert took a drink of his whisky. “I don’t have anything immediately in the works.”“Have you got a photo?” Robert smiled and got his phone out. He trusted Kat.“He’s not my type,” Robert warned as he tried to find a good photo. “You’re going to look at him and think he’s much more your type.” He got a picture, they were laying in bed together, but the photo was just of their faces and he showed it to Kat.“Oh,” she said, sounding deflated and looking disappointed. “Are… you sure he’s gay? Because he is gorgeous!”“I know,” Robert said, almost proudly. Gorgeous and his.“How long did it take him to get over the fame thing?” she asked.“About two seconds,” Robert said.“Seriously.”“I am serious. He doesn’t care.”“Really?” she asked in disbelief. “Not asked for a car or anything yet?”“Nope,” Robert said.“You’re lucky,” Kat said. “Last “normal” guy I met wanted me to make payments on his mortgage.” Robert smiled at her sadly.“You should go,” Robert said. “Don’t want it said that we spent the night together.”“Boyfriend wouldn’t like that,” she said.“No, he wouldn’t.” Once she’d gone, Robert called Aaron.“Did I wake you?”“No, it’s eight in the morning,” Aaron said. “You clearly can’t work out the time difference.”“Not on this much alcohol I can’t,” Robert said. “How are you?”“Fine,” Aaron said.“What is it?” “Didn’t much like that woman all over you,” Aaron admitted.“Aaron, it was only for…”“The cameras, I know. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Aaron didn’t sound pissed off, just tired.“I miss you,” Robert said. “Where are you, paint me a picture.”“Actually in the café,” Aaron said. “Getting some coffee before I start work.”“Anything interesting?”“No,” Aaron said. “Your car was the most interesting I’ve worked on for a while. Oh, Vic tried to talk me into eating this blue cheese pie thing. It was horrible.”“Tell her that, did you?” Robert asked amused.“You know how much I like my food, I think she caught on when I left half of it on the plate.” Robert laughed.“You know, it is so good to hear your voice.”“Yeah,” Aaron said, his voice having lowered significantly. “Me too. And you look really good in that suit.”“Of course I do,” Robert said with confidence that made Aaron scoff. “But it’s good to know you’ve been looking at the pictures of me. Some reason I find that a bit of a turn on.”“I have to work,” Aaron said. “Some of us can’t spend the entire day in bed.” Robert’s stung, because what he does is work too.“I’ve got to do so much PR for this film, I doubt I’ll get more than five hours sleep before my wake up call.”“Poor little famous person,” Aaron said sarcastically. “Remind me which five star hotel you’re in?” Robert laughed. He needed someone like Aaron to keep him grounded, only realising how much now that he had Aaron in his life.“I love you,” Robert said fervently.“Yeah. You too,” Aaron said quietly before they hung up. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The days apart crawled by, and Aaron hated it. He also hated himself for how often he was looking up interviews of Robert. Because he’d not been wrong, there were a lot of them, all pretty much saying the same thing. Only one he found with any questions about Robert’s personal life.Interviewer: You’ve bought a house lately in Yorkshire, your home town. Is this a sign you’re settling down?RS: It was time to go back home. I’d always loved that house, and my sister lives in the village so it felt right.Interviewer: I’m sure all our readers would like to know, any special lady in your life? As you’re probably aware of, there is some speculation as you seem to have withdrawn from the limelight recently.RS: I'm the wrong side of thirty now. Bit old for it all, I like a quieter personal life. If I can get it, which I usually can’t.Interviewer: That didn’t answer the question. Any significant other?RS: I think my only true love is a bacon sandwich!The last comment had made Aaron smile broadly. Robert never actually had cooked him a full English breakfast, he had several times made them bacon sandwiches. Because he’d put the bacon in the pan and neither of them could ever wait. Aaron hoped that was a nod to him, though the other half of him felt like he was being a sentimental git.Chas wasn’t happy, but she was seething quietly, much to Aaron’s relief. And she hadn’t blabbed either, though whenever Robert came into the conversation, the temperature dropped several degrees. How Diane wasn’t picking up on it was a mystery to Aaron. Especially when Robert called at really odd times to speak to him.The day before Robert was due back, Aaron went into the pub’s kitchen for Vic. Adam was there too, chatting with her and Aaron didn’t think before speaking. “Can I have the key?”“Which key?” Vic asked, looking up briefly from chopping potatoes.“Robert’s,” Aaron said. “He wants me to pick up his leather jacket before meeting him in London. Forgot it, apparently.”Vic hesitated. “I er…I’m not sure I should,” Vic said. “He’s very private, he doesn’t want just anyone to have access to his house.”Aaron sighed and scrolled through his phone to the text messages. “I know the code to the front gate, I’ve got a key for his London place, he trusts me, Vic.” She read the messages and nodded, going to her bag.“Rob’s house?” Adam asked, looking completely bewildered between the two of them. “What’ve I missed?”“Nothing,” Vic said, while Aaron chewed his bottom lip. He’d become used to Vic knowing about them, so it hadn’t felt awkward talking to her. He hadn’t paid attention to Adam being there.“What’s going on?” he asked, looking between Aaron and Vic. Vic was the one to speak first.“I only didn’t tell you because you’d have made a big deal of it.”“Of what?” Adam asked.“Robert and I… we’ve been seeing each other,” Aaron said, biting down on his bottom lip again.“What?” Adam said, frowning. “No, Robert’s not gay. Is he?” he asked, turning to Vic.“Not really your business,” she said, handing Aaron the key and returning to her potatoes.“Really? What happened to “he’s an arrogant twat” and “Just because he’s famous doesn’t make him special?”” Adam asked.“Oh, I still think all of that,” Aaron assured him quickly. “We talk about how arrogant he is all the time. And I need to go, I’ve got a train to catch.”“Mate!” Adam shouted after him.“Just… keep your mouth shut,” Vic said. “Leave them to it, they’re happy.”“How are you so okay with this?”“I’ve known for a while,” Vic said. “It’s fine!”“But… Aaron and your brother that’s… weird! And he‘s my best mate and he never told me!”“You get used to it,” she said with a wide smile. Aaron spent the entire train journey south trying to fight off the panic. He shouldn’t have gone to Robert’s house. That one thought was crystal clear, because he was fine until he’d done that. Excited to see Robert again, as well as enjoy his London flat which Vic had said was very luxurious. But now all he could think about was that bloody letter. He shouldn’t have looked. Why had he looked? Sod the fact it was addressed to him, it was a letter in Robert’s house, he should have just stamped his curiosity down. But he hadn’t, and now he was panicking. He felt fairly sure that Robert knew he couldn’t be bought, and that Robert liked that about him. So what was he playing at? Buying property in Aaron’s name?Once in London, Aaron followed the directions Robert had given him before he left the country, and found the flat with no problems. He unlocked the door with a key Robert had left him, and disabled the alarm. All of that he did with a sort of detached awareness, as his mind was still stuck on those property deeds he’d read at home. No, at Robert’s home, he corrected himself. He couldn’t even have a look around the flat, his mind was in so much turmoil, and he had previously wanted to be a bit nosey. See what Robert’s bachelor pad was actually like. The only thing Aaron could see was that it was all clean edges, no clutter, more like a show home than a place anyone lived. Home Farm might be posh and upscale, but it was obvious that Robert did actually live there, photos, knick knacks, books scattered everywhere.It was a top floor flat, with floor to ceiling windows on the left side, in a way that was obviously supposed to be stylish, but appeared to Aaron to be more annoying. Who cared if you could see the city spread before you, Aaron had always valued his privacy, and he dropped the blinds. Even if no one could see up here, it made him feel better. He got a text on his phone, Robert saying he’d landed and was on the way home from the airport. Aaron just waited. He checked the fridge, but there was no beer, so he felt at a loose end. He didn’t want to get comfortable in someone else’s house.By the time Robert came in, smiling, Aaron had worked himself up in a state. “What the hell are you doing?” Aaron hissed as Robert walked in the door of his flat, dropping his carry on bag on the floor. Robert looked completely bewildered, and (if Aaron was being honest with himself) way too sexy for having just come off a plane. Bedraggled in a way which looked so good.“Okay, not the hello I was expecting.”“Robert…”“I need a little bit more information,” Robert said blankly. “What have I done? I thought you were okay with the Kat thing, and…”“Forget about Kat,” Aaron said. “You’ve bought a house in my name? What’s wrong with you?”“That’s meant to be a surprise,” Robert said. “How do you even know about it?”“I don’t think that’s the issue,” Aaron said. “Why would you even think that’s what I want?”“I’m trying to take care of you,” Robert said.“You can’t buy me!” Aaron shouted. “I will not be like one of your previous… whatever. I’m not going to just sit back and let you pay for everything, ignore the fact I have a job and a life before you came into it. I won’t be a kept woman, Robert.”“Ignoring that rather sexist comment,” Robert said. “I’m not trying to buy you. I am trying to look after you. Because when this comes out, I think you’re going to need a bolt hole, when it gets too much. I know you think you’ll be able to cope with it, but it’s just in case. And living above the pub would be terrible for you, the security isn’t good enough and photographers and journalists could just come into the bar. I want somewhere safe for you.” Aaron breathed in and out deeply, trying to calm down. “It’s tiny anyway, not much. It does have a lot of private land with it, which means you could genuinely escape from the press if you wanted to.”“I don’t want a house from you,” Aaron said, holding onto the point stubbornly. “I don’t want to be indebted to you, because if and when we end, there’s no way I could ever give you back these… things.”“Then leave,” Robert said. “If you left this flat right now and never wanted to see me again, I wouldn’t take the house back. It’s a gift, it’s in your name, I am not trying to buy you. And I would have told you eventually, but I knew it’d take a long time for you to accept it.”“I’m not accepting it,” Aaron said stubbornly.“No,” Robert said, dropping his shoulders. “I did think that was coming.” He sighed. “Now, are we still fighting? Or can I kiss my boyfriend hello after a week not seeing you?” Aaron didn’t want to soften to him, was still a little bit on edge after Robert’s absence, and the nasty shock finding out about the house, but when Robert looked at him like that it was particularly difficult to stay pissed off with him. Robert kissed him and Aaron let him.“This argument isn’t over,” Aaron warned, his breath rushing over Robert‘s lips.“No,” Robert said. “I know. Because you’ve said what you want, now it’s my turn. How did you find out about the house?” His hands slipped to Aaron’s arse, pulling him close and pressing their bodies together. He wanted to be touching Aaron, badly, even though he was annoyed. “Did you go through my paperwork in the office?”“I went up to Home Farm. For your jacket,” he added, and Robert nodded. “Some post. The documents for the house and it was addressed to me so I opened it. I have not, and I would not go through anything that‘s yours.”“It’s addressed to you, because it’s yours. I’m not trying to buy you. If I ever thought buying you would work, I wouldn’t still be with you.”“I know,” Aaron said, relenting. “I just… I know that I’m going to be called a gold digger and… They‘ll look at me and wonder why on earth you’re bothering.” Robert smiled at him. “I could give you a list if you want,” he said. Aaron rolled his eyes but kept looking at Robert as he held him. “You’re gorgeous. You’re sexy as hell. I love your laugh, the way your eyes light up. I love that you don’t give me any crap, you don’t let my bullshit get in your way. And you don’t treat me like I’m anything special because I’m well known. And somehow, at the same time, you make me feel like I’m the most special thing in the world.”“Robert…” His words had got Aaron more emotional than he was prepared for and Robert kissed him deeply. “Which way’s the bedroom?”“What, you didn’t check out the place first?” Robert asked.“Only checked the fridge, you don’t have any decent beer,” Aaron said.“Oh, I’ll fix that,” Robert assured. “My single malt’s wasted on you anyway.” Robert’s hands tightened on Aaron’s hips and he kissed him, a proper hello kiss this time.Robert moved to lift the blinds up and Aaron shook his head. “Don’t. I want privacy.”“No one can see,” Robert whispered seductively. “And I want to watch the city as I make you come.”“No,” Aaron said forcefully, putting a hand to his mouth to stop Robert moving closer. “That is a line, one you’ve probably used on dozens of people. We don’t do that, I don’t want the Robert Sugden who stands on red carpets and makes everyone fall at his feet. I just want you.” Robert realised what he meant and sighed.“Sorry,” Robert said. “It takes me a while to unwind from that life. Switch it off. You have me, Aaron. You should know that, you have all of me.” And that might have been a line too, but it was an honest one, so Aaron let it go. Especially when Robert grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bedroom. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Robert woke to an empty bed and for a moment thought he’d dreamed coming home. He pressed his nose into the pillow on Aaron’s side and smiled. Not a dream then, he had been sleeping there. He got up and found Aaron looking out over London. He was already dressed in jeans and a T shirt.“How was LA?” he asked, not turning around as Robert made himself some coffee.“Lonely,” Robert said. “Tiring. I’m very glad to be home.” Their fight about the house hadn’t exactly been resolved, just put on hold. Robert refused to apologise for trying to take care of Aaron, and Aaron refused to admit that it might be necessary. Robert walked towards Aaron and kissed him good morning, enjoying feeling Aaron almost melt against him. “Are you okay?” Robert asked, stroking his face.“Yeah,” he said. “I half thought…”“Go on,” Robert urged.“A week away would make you see that I’m not worth the bother.” Aaron shrugged.“No, a week away made me miss you,” Robert said honestly, making Aaron smile slightly. “Did you not sleep well? It’s still early.”“No, I… had a nightmare. I’m fine,” he added at Robert’s look. Robert kissed him very softly. “Really, I’m fine. Though my back hurts a little. You bit me.”“Couldn’t help it,” Robert said, completely unashamed. “I couldn’t resist, you’re just too tempting.” Aaron rolled his eyes.“How’re we going to do this, then?” Aaron asked.“You still want to go public?”“Yeah,” Aaron said. “As long as you’re sure…”“I’m sure,” Robert said. “I love you.”“Oh, you must think it’s going to be bad, then.”“I think it could be bad,” Robert said. “Remember I love you.” Aaron leant his forehead against Robert’s for a moment. “Right, so I’m going to call my agent, or we’re going to go down and have breakfast at this café I like, and let you be photographed with me.” The thought made Aaron feel sick and Robert could read it on his face. “I’ll call my agent.” They both sat down on the sofa and Robert got his phone out.“Okay, I need a face to face meeting,” Robert said to Steve on speaker phone as soon as he picked up.“Oh God, that means it’s money, sex or drugs. Which?”“Are they my only options?”“Robert, you don’t give me many problems,” Steve said. “And it’s early in the morning, before I’m even officially working. Which means this is serious. Sex? Tell me that you haven’t been caught with a prostitute.”“What?!” Robert spluttered, ignoring Aaron’s grin.“I can spin pretty much everything else, but that one’s always tough.”“Why would you even think that?”“You’ve not been seen with any women lately. People are starting to notice and wonder.”“I’m in a relationship,” Robert said. “Which is why no ones seen me.”“Okay, so what’s the problem?”“Well…”“Three illegitimate children? History of lap dancing? Come on, just tell me.” Aaron was full on laughing into his fist, he couldn’t help it.“It’s a man.” That did stop Aaron’s laughter, because the pause from Steve was telling. “Don’t,” Robert said.“How long have you been hiding you’re gay?” Steve asked.“I’m not gay, I’m bi, and no, I don’t want to make any kind of statement.”“Right,” Steve said. “Give me more information, what do you actually want to come out of this?”“Well, going down the street with my boyfriend without being blinded by the press’d be a good start.”“Are you living on planet earth?” Steve asked. Aaron decided this was the time he should leave, because he could sense this conversation moving onto less flattering ground in short order. “Can this man…”“Aaron,” Robert interrupted.“Okay, can Aaron be removed, or…”“You’re not listening to me,” Robert said firmly. “This is happening. I’d like it to come out in a contained way, rather than someone shooting a camera at my bedroom window.” Aaron squeezed Robert’s shoulders, then left him to it, almost positive that he’d be spoken about more and more negatively as the conversation went on. And getting angry wouldn't do anyone any good.“If you don’t want to release a statement, there isn’t much I can do,” Steve said. “I can draft one and have it released from the press office with your approval…”“Yeah, let’s do that,” Robert said.“Right, give me his name.”“Aaron Dingle,” Robert said. “He lives at home, in Emmerdale.”“Any skeletons in his closet that I need to know about?”“Er… he’s on a suspended sentence for skipping bail,” Robert started. It made Steve sigh heavily.“Skipping bail for what?”“Arson,” Robert said. “He didn’t do it, it‘s just the skipping bail that was a problem.”“Oh, a minor problem,” Steve said. “Look, I’ll get back to you.” Robert sighed as he ended the call, following the noise into the bathroom.“You don’t have to hide in the shower,” Robert called over the running water.“Thought I was getting in the way,” Aaron said.“He’s going to call back,” Robert said. “When he’s decided how to handle this.”“This?” Aaron said, thinking that sounded slightly offensive.“Want company?” Aaron smiled, he could hardly turn down Robert naked in the shower after all. The statement was incredibly brief, only saying some waffle about them valuing their own privacy (which Robert fully expected to be ignored) and within twenty minutes of it being released, there were already photographers downstairs. Robert could see them waiting outside the building. Aaron had become quieter and quieter throughout the day, even for him which was saying something. But they knew they couldn’t hide out forever. Chas had called, which Aaron had pretty much ignored. A "yes, no, bye" kind of conversation.“Probably would have been better if we’d released this when we were home in the village,” Aaron said.“Now you tell me,” Robert said. “Come on, let me take you out for dinner.”“Robert…” Aaron started. “Have you seen the circus down there?!”“They will always be there until we go out, you know that. I do know a restaurant that’s discrete. We could get some food?”“All right,” Aaron said.“Sure?”“Get me out of here before I change my mind,” Aaron said. Robert smiled, making a call to have a car waiting for him.“You do have an incredible life,” Aaron said. “You are aware of that, right?”“What do you mean?” Robert asked.“Most people drive when they want to go out. You call a car and one magically appears.”“Shut up,” Robert said with a smile. “You’ll be grateful for it in twenty minutes.”“Yeah,” he said. Robert kissed him, and within seconds they found themselves sprawled along the sofa, Aaron on top with a smile as he pushed Robert into the cushions. “We could forget about dinner…” Aaron suggested, rolling his hips suggestively.“I think we’re both going to need something to look forward to after running the gauntlet,” Robert said, his hand going to Aaron's jeans suggestively. His phone buzzed. “Car’s ready. Come on, it’s really good food. Japanese okay?”“Don’t know,” Aaron said honestly. “Not tried much sushi in my life.” Robert stood up, grabbing his wallet and his keys, and Aaron had a moment that he just felt so incompetent. How could he compare with that? Robert looked gorgeous, and here was he, a scruff in a hoodie and jeans. And everyone outside would want to take his picture and wonder what the hell Robert was doing and…“Breathe.” Robert stood in front of him, speaking surely, his hands comfortingly on Aaron‘s neck. “I’ll be with you the whole time. Anyway, first times always the worst. Let‘s get it over with.” He squeezed Robert’s hand tightly and they left the flat, going into the lift. Robert gave Aaron a kiss in the lift, trying to reassure him, though he knew it wasn’t helping much.The amount of camera bulbs flashing off made it seem like they were under floodlights. The calling and screeching of journalists was louder than Robert thought he’d ever heard, and it was more like a scrum than anything else, fighting through it to the car. Even if it might be fuelling the fire, Robert grabbed Aaron’s hand, pulling him towards the waiting car. Robert pushed Aaron in first, before sitting next to him on the backseat, hurriedly driving off. Or trying to, it was difficult with the amount of press. Within a couple of minutes they were away.“Well done,” Robert said, looking at Aaron who seemed almost shell shocked, leaning back on the seat.“For what?” Aaron asked.“You didn’t punch any of them,” Robert said. “That’s a start.” Aaron laughed under his breath.“I know you warned me, but that was…”“Yeah, quite intense,” Robert said. “Worse than I thought anyway. Sorry.”“You sure this restaurant’s discrete?”“As good as you’re going to get in London,” Robert said. “And anyway, we need to eat. The whole point of this is that we didn’t want to hide.”“Yeah, it was,” Aaron said. “I know. Just… didn’t know people cared what I look like.”“Are you going to let me treat you?”“This time I just might,” Aaron said. Robert smiled and kissed him gently. Then a little bit more.“Mm…” Robert sighed against him. “You taste good.”“How long’ve you got to be in London for?” Aaron asked knowing that now wasn’t the time to start being intimate.“Two days,” he said. “You don’t have to stay with me. Get the train back up home.”“No, I want to be here. I like being with you. Not much waiting for me at home, I’m sure Cain‘ll give me a few more days off.”They fell into silence until they got to the restaurant. There were a few photographers there, but more of the standard. It was well known that some of the rich and famous used this restaurant. Again, Robert held his hand as they went inside, only a few flashes of cameras this time.Aaron didn’t relax until they were seated at a table in the corner, no one paying any attention to them, but even then, Aaron couldn’t fully let himself go until he started eating. He always felt better on a full stomach.“Better?” Robert asked. Aaron nodded.“Thanks. I know I’m a bit…”“What, not what the masses expected?” Robert quipped. “I think it’s obvious by now I get bored with the usual. Don’t think I’m going to get bored with you.”“I really hope not,” Aaron said, smiling a little. “Don’t want to have gone through all that for nothing.” Robert reached across the table and took Aaron’s hand, running his thumb across the knuckles gently.“No matter what happens…”“I know,” Aaron said quietly. “Dessert?” A friendly waitress asked, coming over to the table. Robert did not let go of Aaron’s hand, eyes sparkling at him.“Yes, please.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Going back to Robert’s flat was again a mess of cameras, shouting journalists and a quick walk inside. When they were safely ensconced in the flat, Aaron answered his phone which had been ringing on and off all day. “Mum, I’m fine,” he said tiredly.“Love, I’ve been so worried,” Chas said down the phone. “It’s everywhere.”“Yeah, I know,” Aaron said.“Warned you this would happen,” Chas said, her usual acid tongue coming back now that she was finally talking to her son. “Knew you should stay miles away from Robert Sugden.”“Yeah, yeah,” Aaron said. “Did you call to check I was okay, or just for the lecture?”“Aaron!”“Mum, I’m… Well, if not great, I’m doing okay.” Chas huffed down the phone. “What’re they saying?”“Not much about you,” Chas said. “Yet. All about Robert and how long he was hiding and all that rubbish. But it won’t be long and…”“Mum drop it!” Aaron snapped. “I love him, and I knew it would be like this.” Aaron sighed, rubbing his forehead hard. “Anyone in the village yet?”“A few journalists have rocked up. Thank God Home Farm is down that long drive, they can’t see the house from the top.”“So they’ve tried,” Aaron said. “Great.”“When are you coming home?”“When Robert does,” Aaron said surely. “I am fine. Now I’m going to go.”“Love you.”“Love you too.”“How is she?” Robert asked, passing Aaron a glass of whisky as he sat next to him. Aaron didn’t usually go for whisky, but after today a strong drink would be good.“Moaning at you,” Aaron said. “She’s okay. Apparently people are up outside yours.”“I guessed that,” Robert said. “I’m actually surprised at how I’ve been able to settle down there without journalists getting in the way. Come here.” Aaron allowed himself to be held against Robert’s body. “Tomorrow I’ve got a lot of PR to do before the London premiere,” Robert said. “So you’ll be on your own all day. Is that okay?”“Can I hole up here?”“Yes,” Robert said with a smile. “Kat’s coming with me to the premiere, is that...?”“Yeah, but isn’t that unnecessary now?”“I promised her she could come,” Robert said. “And it’s not like I’m not going to get the attention is it?”“You sound nervous,” Aaron noticed.“Yeah,” Robert said. “I am. It’s going to be… bad. Or, a lot, rather than bad.”“I didn’t think you did nervous,” Aaron said.“Well, this matters.” Aaron shifted and kissed him, keeping it tender and reassuring. Aaron woke up to a headache and a banging on the door. Frowning at the empty bed, he threw some clothes on and answered it, because whoever it was wasn’t taking the hint.“What?” he asked, throwing the door open, at the same time realising he was alone, no Robert in sight. A blonde woman he knew only from photos and films, Catherine Dujardin stood there, a fake smile on her face and what looked like a pastry box in her hand. “Robert’s not here.”“I know,” she said. “But you are, and I’ve been desperate to meet you. Aaron, right? So you going to invite me in?”“Yeah, might as well,” Aaron said after a brief pause, thinking it might make the morning slightly more interesting.“It’s Kat by the way,” she said, sitting in the arm chair and tucking her legs under her in a way that told Aaron she’d been here often before. She had a very slight American twang and looked impossibly beautiful for eight in the morning.“I know who you are,” Aaron said, closing the door. “And… I know who you are,” she countered. “So, I guess we’re even.”“Robert know you’re here?” Aaron asked.“Um… not exactly. Though the press camped outside might give him a tip off.”“This is his place, not mine,” Aaron said. “Not sure you should be here without him knowing.” Kat laughed, then looked at him. “Oh. You’re serious?”“It’s not mine,” Aaron repeated.“I come here all the time,” she said in her defence.“I doubt that’s true,” Aaron said, making himself a coffee in the kitchen. If it was true, he was sure Kat would have come up when he’d first been googling Robert, and she hadn’t. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with Kat in the place, but it also seemed clear she wasn’t leaving until she was ready. And with photographers downstairs, he wasn’t about to make a scene. “What do you want?”“Are you always this charming?” she asked. “I’ve bought croissants.”“I’m more of a toast kind of man,” Aaron said. He paused because he’d just seen a note by the kettle.Had an early start. You looked far too relaxed to wake up. I’ll call when I can. R x. There was also a phone number on the bottom of the note with Call Charlie if you need anything.“Are you jealous of me?” Aaron looked up from the note to realise Kat had been waffling on.“Yes,” Aaron said honestly. “I don’t want to lose him.”“I will have nothing to do with that,” she said.“Come off it,” Aaron said. “He could be with you so easily. Could you really see me being the one on his arm in front of all the cameras?”“He wants you,” Kat said. “He glowed when he talked about you.”“Robert doesn’t do that,” Aaron said dismissively.“No,” she agreed. “He doesn’t, so you need to know how rare that is.” Aaron had nothing to say to that, so changed tack.“Tea?”“Please,” she said, smiling at him. Aaron gave her half a smile back“Have you seen the articles?” Kat asked.“No, and I’m not sure I want to,” Aaron said. “I knew it would be a big thing for Robert, but I didn’t expect them camped out downstairs. It’s been more than twenty four hours, what exactly are they expecting to see?”“You,” Kat said, taking the cup of tea from him with a smile. “They’re desperate to catch a picture of you, they know you’re up here. Beyond a few in the middle of the street, they haven’t had a look at you yet.”“That’s what I should do then, give them a good long gawp at me?” Aaron asked in disbelief.“Half the women on the planet would love to be in your position. He’s rich, gorgeous and talented. You’ve ruined quite a few fantasies with this, and everyone wants to see what you look like.” Aaron scoffed. “You knew you were getting into this when you got with him,” Kat said quietly, not without sympathy.“I didn’t think a one night screw would turn into this,” Aaron said bluntly. “I didn’t mean to fall for him, he’s not really mine to fall for.”“He is now,” she said.“Well, I guess that’s true.” Aaron sighed, looking at his coffee cup. “Sorry. I’m not making a great impression on you.”“You’re not what I thought,” Kat admitted. “But you’re sure as hell not after him for his money.”“No, I’m not,” Aaron said. “I’d rather he were poor, we wouldn’t have all this mess to deal with.”“Yeah, but… sometimes it’s good problems to have, right?” She smiled at him slightly.“You’re going with him to his film thing tonight, right?” Aaron asked.“No,” Kat said as if this was a stupid suggestion. “He doesn’t need me now it’s out in the public.”“He does need you,” Aaron said. “He’s nervous about tonight with all the press being there and… he told me you were going.”“I didn’t think I’d still be invited,” she said with a shrug.“He needs a friend,” Aaron said. “I’ve never seen him nervous.”“I don’t think I have either,” she said.Robert had a TV interview today, which (thank God) wasn’t live. In fact, he’d have tried to get out of it, but he knew the interviewer well. Caroline, a middle aged woman who had always written nice things about him in her column, and shown him in a good light with TV interviews.When he walked into the studio where they were setting up, she stared at him. “I’ve been glued to my phone, expecting you to cancel,” she said.“Now, why would I do that?” Robert asked innocently. “Not like half the worlds media isn’t camped outside my flat is it?”“Well, you’ve got balls, I'll say that,” she said with a smile. “How are you?”“You asking as a friend or a journalist?”“Both.”“I’m okay,” Robert said. “You know this is for PR for State of Play, right?”“Yes,” Caroline said sweetly.“Are we actually going to talk about the film?”“It might come up,” she said. “I can’t help it that viewers are more interested in your personal life right now. How is Aaron?”“We’re starting already are we?” Robert said with a false smile. Perfect. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Robert text him, saying the interview would be on the TV at two thirty. Aaron convinced himself that he wouldn’t watch it, until about two minutes to the appointed time. Then he flicked the telly on anyway, thinking knowing could be a lot better than not knowing. His first thought was Robert looked so good. He wore a black shirt, the sleeves rolled up showing off his freckled arms. He also had one or two more buttons undone than strictly necessary at his throat and Aaron felt a brief flash of heat at remembering how that patch of skin tasted. Aaron could only tell that he was nervous because of the slight movement of a muscle in his jaw. A stranger wouldn’t be able to see it, though Vic probably would.They spent a couple of minutes blathering on about the film, which Aaron had zero interest in. Then, as was inevitable, it turned onto Robert’s personal life.“Robert, I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t so much as ask about your significant other,” the interviewer asked. “There’s been quite a stir in the media lately.”“Mm,” Robert said non-committally. “I noticed.”“Do you think the fuss is because it’s an unknown, or because you’re dating a man?” the interviewer pressed. “I think it’s safe to say it was unexpected,” Robert said and Aaron could see he was choosing his words carefully. “Even I didn’t expect it.”“This is the first time you’ve ever released a statement about any of your personal relationships. How serious is this?”“We’re happy and together,” Robert said, avoiding the question.“Did you move away from London so you could be closer to him?”“No,” Robert said. “Happy coincidence.”“Oh? And how did you meet this… Aaron Dingle?” she continued.“He’s a mechanic,” Robert said. “Met him when I took my car in.”“And?”“Caroline, I’m here to talk about the film, not my personal private life,” Robert said, though it was accompanied with a winning smile so no one could take offence to the brush off. The interview went on for a minute or so more, before it cut away. And Aaron could breathe again. He’d actually spoken a lot without really saying anything. The only thing vaguely personal had been the fact Aaron worked as a mechanic, but Aaron felt fairly sure the press would be able to find that out anyway. Not like he was in hiding.The phone rang and Aaron answered it. “Was that okay?” Robert asked.“You’re nervous,” Aaron said.“Yeah, about your reaction,” Robert said. “I know we’re private people, but I had to say something and…”“It was fine,” Aaron said. “Are you this concerned about my judgement?”“Yes,” Robert said. “It matters.”“Robert you could have said anything and I’d have barely noticed,” Aaron said. “You’re going to wear that black shirt again, right?”“Oh, you liked that?” Robert questioned, voice lower and seductive.“Mm, sleeves rolled up, yes I did like it. I’d like to peel that off you later.” They both knew he’s trying to distract them, but it was working.“I’ll remember that,” Robert said. “Are you okay?”“I met Kat today.”“And you’re still at the flat?” Robert asked. “She can be a bit full on.”“She’s nice,” Aaron said. “Think she got my grumpy side though.”“You have another side?” Robert questioned. Aaron laughed, a laugh that Robert hadn’t heard in what felt like such a long time and he smiled. Aaron could hear someone calling him on the phone line.“I…”“Have to go,” Aaron finished for him. “Will you be back before the Leicester square thing?”“I… um not sure. Sorry. Things tend to overrun. Tomorrow I’m all yours.”“I’ll count on that,” Aaron said. “Bye.”“Bye.” Aaron opened the door to see a complete stranger there. “Who’re you?” Aaron asked, standing firmly in the doorway and not letting him in.“I’m Steve Askers,” the man said. “Robert’s agent, has he…”“Yeah, he’s mentioned you,” Aaron said, moving aside. “Robert okay?”“Yeah, fulfilling all his commitments,” Steve said. “And it’s him I’m here to talk about.”“What about him?”“I’m asking you to stop,” Steve said. “Stop seeing him, just leave him alone. Let him move on with his life.”“No,” Aaron said. He didn’t need to think about it, there was no way he was giving Robert up.“This might change your mind,” Steve said, giving him a check. Aaron moved and took it, looking at the figure on the check and shook his head. “You can’t buy me,” Aaron said. “It isn’t about the money.”“That’s how much he’s lost since the two of you went public,” Steve said, still incredibly calm, making Aaron pause. That was so much money.“How?”“His advertising partners are deserting him. Porsche and Rolex have both left him.”“Isn’t that discrimination?” Aaron snapped back.“Yeah, it is,” Steve said. “But they can get away with it by simply saying they’re not renewing the contracts. rather than ending them early.”“Well, I’m sorry,” Aaron said. “Not really my fault though.”“Aaron, I’m not stupid. I’ve known Robert an incredibly long time. He’s a good worker, and underneath the fame, he’s actually a good guy. I’m not doing this to be the bad person here. I’m doing it, because I care about Robert and I know the damage you’d do to him even if you two can’t see it.”“I’m not going to leave him no matter what you tell me,” Aaron said. “And the money? It’s not about that.” He held out the check but Steve didn’t take it.Steve sighed. “Okay, I actually believe you’re not a gold digger. I believe you love him and you care for him. So take a few minutes and think about what this is doing to him. How much he stands to lose being with a man publicly. He won’t get romantic leads in films, he won’t get teenage girls fawning over his posters, and they’re the ones with the money. He will lose out in so many ways, his advertisers are already jumping ship. They don’t know what to do with a bisexual man. Gay has a place in this industry, but…”“You’re sounding incredibly offensive,” Aaron interrupted.“I’m not here to be politically correct,” Steve said. “The world isn’t, so I need to be realistic. He will lose out as long as he’s with you. And they will dig, you’re a Dingle, you’re on a suspended sentence, no one thinks you’re good enough for an A lister like him.” Aaron’s already low self confidence took a hit at that, because that was exactly how he felt. Steve nodded at the check. “Please take it, and leave Robert alone. Let him go, for his sake.”“Robert doesn’t want me to go anywhere.”“That’s why he employs me,” Steve said. “I look after him, even when he doesn’t know what’s best for him. Please, Aaron. Just think about it.” Steve left and Aaron looked at the check. One thing he knew for certain was that he would never cash that. No way was he going to make money off of this situation. But maybe Steve had a point. They were never going to last anyway, so if it was hurting Robert’s career, maybe the best thing to do would be to pull back. Aaron wasn't naive. People like him didn't get a happily ever after. Aaron sat in the steadily darkening room, thinking and waiting. Robert had not come home, text to say he’d see him late tonight, but Aaron was considering what to do. And it wasn’t about the money, it was about the point Steve had made. He hadn’t really believed it, that it would have this effect on Robert's career. Hadn’t honestly thought that it would be that big a deal. But clearly it was. Oh, God, why did this have to be so difficult? Robert had had a day of it, the only good spot on the horizon was that he now had a week to ten days off before he had to do anything else. Well, another particularly bright spot was Aaron waiting in bed for him. He ignored the photographers and went inside the building, slightly pleased there were markedly less of them there.He unlocked the door and was pleased the flat was quiet, meaning that Aaron was most likely asleep. He went through to the bedroom and stopped at the still made bed. Or almost made bed, Aaron never could make a bed properly. The most important thing was Aaron wasn’t there. Instead of his boyfriend, there was a note on the bedside table, on Robert’s side.Sorry, just need to get home. Need a break. Sorry. Robert froze. No. This couldn’t be happening, they’d agreed. Aaron couldn’t be gone. Nothing scared him nearly as much as that did. Robert called Aaron but it went straight through to voicemail so phoned up Charlie, his PA instead. He didn’t even get the chance to ask the question before Charlie spoke.“About an hour ago.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It was the small hours of the morning when Aaron got home, relieved to see no press outside the pub. He unlocked the door and found Chas in the kitchen. He’d called ahead to say he was being driven home. Ignoring the fact that "home" was halfway up the country, apparently being driven that far wasn’t a problem.“Hiya love,” Chas said tiredly, her face free from make up. She hugged her son tightly, and Aaron didn’t want to let go. For once, he let his mother hold him and try to make it better. Even before Robert asked Charlie, he was fairly sure where he’d gone. Back home. Emmerdale would feel much safer than London, or practically anywhere else right now. Maybe being cooped up in Robert’s flat had effected him more than he’d let on. After all, it’s a strange place to him, but Aaron wasn’t answering his phone. He had no idea if Aaron was even okay.“Aaron, please pick up your bloody phone,” Robert said to the message, wishing it was Aaron he was speaking to. “Just let me know you’re okay. I couldn’t… please call.”Robert stopped pacing his flat and physically forced himself to put down the glass of whisky that seemed to have found its way into his hand. Then he looked down at himself, still in his suit from that premiere. Whatever he was going to do, he wasn’t going to do it dressed like this, so he got changed into jeans and a shirt. Black as requested. If he had to fight to keep Aaron in his life, he’d wear something he knew Aaron liked. Throwing on his leather jacket, he grabbed his keys and his phone, which rang.“Yes?”“Car’s waiting,” Charlie said. “Anything else?”“Yeah, have you tracked Aaron’s phone?”“That’s a little grey, legally speaking,” Charlie said.“All right, don’t bother then,” Robert said. “I’ll call if I need anything else.” He hung up and quickly went downstairs. It was so late that there weren’t any press there, thank God. In the car on the long journey north, Robert checked all and any articles about them in the gossip columns on his phone, trying to find something that might have pushed Aaron. He wasn’t aware of what people were saying, it didn’t much matter.The photos published were all pretty much the same, except for one which had clearly been taken on someone’s phone in the Japanese place, them holding hands, just looking at each other. Robert silently seethed that his privacy had been ruined like that, and wondered if that would be enough to tip Aaron over the edge? No, he didn’t think so somehow. This felt bigger. Actually, Robert himself didn’t mind the photos. He liked how good he and Aaron looked together, though he didn’t focus on the articles themselves. Robert put his phone away and sighed. The miles between London and Emmerdale could not disappear fast enough. It was just before four in the morning when Robert’s car slowed down outside the pub. Now he was here, he knew he couldn’t wake Aaron up. If he was having doubts, waking him up wasn’t about to help.“What now?” the driver asked politely.“I’ve changed my mind,” Robert said. “Take me to Home Farm instead. You can kip in the spare room if you want before driving back down south.”“Very good sir.” The driver took him home, even though Robert knew he wouldn’t sleep. “Aaron here?” Robert asked, coming into the back room of the pub without knocking. He’d walked through the village, ignoring the whispers and glares from the villagers. He didn’t need the small minded gossip, his problem was gossip on a more international scale.“He doesn’t want to see you,” Chas said, standing up as if preparing for a fight.“Well, thanks to him I’ve had a sleepless night, trying to track him down and panicking about what made him leave. And I get less charming when I haven’t slept, Chas,” Robert snapped.“You getting pissed because you can’t get your way won’t work with me,” Chas warned. “We’re not all obligated to fall at your feet.”“I’m not trying to…” Robert sighed heavily. “I don’t need you to like me. I’d like to know where Aaron is, because he ran out of my house in the middle of the night for God knows what reason and I need to see him.”“He isn’t here,” she said, seemingly taking great pleasure from telling him this.“Where is he?” Chas didn’t say anything. “For God’s sake, he could be anywhere! At least let me know he got home safely.”“Of course he did,” Chas said. “I’d have started screaming at you by now if he hadn’t.”Robert felt like he could at least partly breathe again. “Where is he?”“I don’t know,” Chas said. “I heard the door go at around six, but... Aaron's not here.”“Okay, thanks,” Robert said heading towards the door.“What made him leave?” Chas asked.“I don’t know, I wasn’t with him yesterday.”“I thought you were going to protect him from all this.”“I can’t be with him twenty four seven,” Robert said. “Now I’m going to find him. Or try to.” Robert left the house, wondering where Aaron could have gone. He wasn’t at the garage, and it was too early for the café to even be open. He was tempted to knock on Vic and Adam’s door, but if he wasn’t there, it would open a whole host of questions he didn’t want to answer. Exasperated, and not really expecting anything, he called Aaron.“Can’t get rid of you, can I?” Aaron said gruffly.“I’ve followed you halfway up the country, the least you could do is answer your phone,” Robert said, aware he was snapping which probably wasn’t the best idea.“I did answer the phone,” Aaron said. “You’re talking to me, aren’t you?”“Where are you?” Robert said, trying to calm down.“Up at yours,” Aaron said. “I just… walked to clear my head and ended up here.”“I’m on my way. Don’t vanish on me.”“Yeah, I’ll be here.” The call ended and Robert headed back up to his house as fast as he could. Bloody typical, he’d gone looking for him, and in the end Aaron had come to him. He got up to his house and found Aaron sitting on the doorstep. “Haven’t you got Vic’s key?”“Didn’t feel right using it,” Aaron said, standing up. “I didn’t mean for you to follow me, I know you have… stuff to do.”“Why did you leave?”“It doesn’t matter,” Aaron said.“Clearly it does, because otherwise why would you come here?” Robert said. Aaron looked shifty. “Are you ending this?” Aaron didn’t answer which only made Robert more worried. “Okay,” Robert said, forcing a calmness. “I know this is all new to you, but you don’t get to run because you’re scared of the press.”“That’s not what this is.”“I asked you if you were sure, before we said anything!” Robert said, his voice rising now. “I’m the one risking everything, here! You can walk away whenever you want and go back to your normal life! And after forty eight hours you’ve changed your mind? Where the hell does that leave me, Aaron!!”“Exactly,” Aaron said tearfully, his voice shaking. Robert was shouting, but Aaron had never felt like shouting less. He felt unbearably sad, not angry. He was ending this (or trying to) for Robert’s best interests, not because he didn’t love him. “You’re risking so much, and I’m not worth it Robert. Is it true that your sponsors are leaving you?” That did stop Robert for a second and he put his hands in his pockets. “Well, sod Porsche. I’ve been getting bored driving their cars anyway, time for a change. Always fancied a Jaguar.”“Oh, Robert,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “This is just the start. This is what you were trying to tell me and I didn’t listen. Because I didn’t want to, we were happy. I can’t be responsible for ruining your life, and your livelihood. I won’t do it.”“What do I care if some bigoted organisations stop paying me?” Robert said. “It’s not like I don’t have enough money to live off!”Aaron had wanted to avoid this, but it seemed Robert wasn’t letting go of him without a fight, so he got the check out of his back pocket. “Steve, your agent, he came and gave me this. To leave you. Let you live in peace. Forget the past week ever happened.” Robert looked at it in surprise. Then anger.“Right, I can’t buy you, but he can?” Robert questioned, frowning at him because he wasn’t following at all.“No, it’s not the money.” Aaron tore up the check and dropped the pieces. “But I am costing you so much, Robert. I can’t… I didn’t realise how big this would be. I didn’t think you being bi really would matter to everyone.” Robert simply stared at him, the anger dying now that he realised Aaron wasn’t trying to leave him because he was being selfish. It was the exact opposite.“I don’t want to leave you, I really don’t. But…” Aaron’s voice was wavering and his eyes filling with tears. Robert wrapped his hands around Aaron’s neck, needing him close and Aaron almost folded towards him, their bodies touching everywhere.“Do you really think I’m going to swap money I don’t need for you?”“You should,” Aaron said weakly. “I’m not worth it.”“I need you. You make me happy,” Robert said. “Not that that’s always obvious when you’re making a complete prat of yourself.” Aaron laughed, closing his eyes. Robert kissed him, soft and gentle.“I thought I could let you go,” Aaron whispered. “I can’t.”“Good.” Aaron laughed. “No more of this okay? I don’t care who drops me, you are far too important to me.” They don’t know how long they stood there with each other, holding each other. Until Robert pulled back.“I think I owe you breakfast,” Robert said, making Aaron laugh. “Come on.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Okay, you can cook,” Aaron admitted, feeling a lot better after breakfast. Robert did do a great full English.“I don’t often treat myself like this,” Robert said, closing his eyes as he felt satisfyingly full. “Full English is strictly off the diet.”“What diet?” Aaron asked with a frown.“I’ve got to keep in shape for my job,” Robert said, still with that tired tone, making Aaron wonder if he’d even slept. “We can’t all eat everything that isn’t nailed down and look as good as you do.” Aaron smiled at him, taking the compliment. “How’ve I not noticed that?”“Because we’ve been holed up here for most of our relationship,” Robert said. “I only have all the healthy rubbish in the fridge. Generally, anyway.”“I’m sorry I ran,” Aaron said quietly.“Don’t be,” Robert said. “The only thing I think you should apologise for is not picking up your phone. I worried that something bad had happened.”“All right, I’ll answer the phone next time,” Aaron said.“Next time?”“I can’t promise I’m not going to have another panic attack,” Aaron said. “I probably will before this is over.”“Fair enough,” Robert said. “I think I’m going to bed. I’ve not slept.” Robert got up, only pausing when Aaron called him.“Robert?”“Yeah?”“There’s some stuff… I need to tell you. About my past,” Aaron said. “It’s… complicated.”“Okay,” Robert said, seeing the look on Aaron‘s face meant this was serious. “Want a drink?”“No, it‘s still the morning,” Aaron said, frowning. “Oh, you know what, it’s nothing. Nothing that can’t wait.”“Are you sure?” Robert asked.“Yeah.” Aaron didn’t want to ruin it. They were home and finding a level footing again. Why spoil it? After a brief hour of sleep, Robert realised he had something to do. Steve Askers was still under the impression he was employed by Robert. He quickly dialled him while lying in bed.“Robert, what’s the problem?”“You are,” Robert said darkly. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t sack you?”“Oh. Lover boy told you.”“No, he tried to leave me, then I reluctantly pulled it out of him,” Robert said. “You really thought money would work?”“Nine times out of ten it would,” Steve said completely unashamed. “I only did what any agent would have in this situation. You pay me to make problems go away.”“I used to pay you,” Robert corrected.“Look, you don’t want to work with me, fine,” Steve said. “But you’d be an idiot to lose this agency, and you know it. We‘ve done good things for your career, you‘d never be in this position if it wasn’t for us. Lizzie would make a good replacement if you really can’t stand working with me.”“Got a number for her?” Steve parroted one as Robert scrambled for some paper to write it down. In one thing Steve was right. He couldn’t really chuck the whole agency simply because Steve was an ignorant homophobic bastard. He disconnected the call, and dialled the number.“Elizabeth Thompson.”“Hello, this is Robert Sugden, I hear you might be responsible for me now.”“Oh!” she said, and Robert could hear a fluttering of paperwork in the background. “Yes, I was warned. I mean told.”“No, you mean warned,” Robert said. Then decided to be blunt, it would be the only way this would ever work. “Would you pay my boyfriend to leave me?”“Not unless it was proven he was only after the money,” Lizzie said. “Which I get the feeling is not true for you and Aaron.”“No, it isn’t,” Robert said. “What would you suggest we do? To handle this… situation.”“Let yourself be caught on camera with Aaron,” Lizzie said after the barest moments pause. “The press, the photographers are never going to stop until they get some images of your boyfriend, people, your fans are too desperate to know. Once they’ve got a few snaps, they’ll more or less leave you alone until you do something else noteworthy.” Robert considered that. It wasn’t a bad idea, but the problem would be convincing Aaron to go along with it. “Mark Havers is a sympathetic photographer who delivers his product to us,” Lizzie was carrying on. “You can have final say on which images are released if we use him.”“What do you mean by sympathetic?” Robert said, instantly on the defensive.“One who doesn’t sell until we agree,” Lizzie said. “Which in this case will mean until you sign off on them. It works for both of us, he gets tip offs from us about where and who to photograph, and we get final say on the images.”“Looks like you’re my new agent then,” Robert said, pleased with how matter of fact she was being. “I’ll get back to you, if Aaron agrees. Which I should warn you, he might not. He‘s a bit stubborn.”“Okay,” Lizzie said. “Talk to you later then Robert.” Aaron and Robert decided to spend the day at Home Farm, both of them not really talking or doing much, just existing together. Robert needed sleep, and even Aaron dozed. He’d not slept much the night before either. The only black spot was when Chas called him.“I knew that smarmy git would talk you round,” she said. “You don’t want to be with him, Aaron!”“I do,” Aaron said tiredly. “I just had a wobble. The media and… I couldn’t cope with it, so I came home. What’ve they been saying?”“All wondering about you,” Chas said. “And they’ve all rocked up in the village again, they know you’re here. There were so many up at the gates to Home Farm I could barely drive down into the village.”“Great,” Aaron said dully. “No getting away from it though, is there?”“Not really,” Chas said. “Are you okay?”“Getting there.”“They won’t stop until they have a good long look at you,” Chas said. “Trust me, I’m one of these obsessive women who stay glued to the gossip magazines.”“I’m not anything special, mum,” Aaron said. “I’m just…”“Clearly Robert thinks you’re special,” Chas said reluctantly. “I should go,” she said. “Leave you to it. I love you.”“Love you too, mum,” Aaron said. He disconnected the call and closed his eyes, only opening them when he felt Robert straddling his lap and pushing his body very close, kissing him. “Hi.”“Mm,” Robert whispered. “Hi.” Aaron stroked his thighs, enjoying it thoroughly when Robert kissed him, sensual and wanting. What with everything over the past few days, it seemed like a long time since Aaron had felt this pure lust that had so attracted him to Robert in the first place. Physically Robert was beautiful, and Aaron didn’t like the fact he could forget that so easily. And the sex was fantastic too, no one else Aaron had ever slept with could compare. Aaron reached behind and pushed his hand so he could cup Robert’s arse, making him groan.“I want you,” Robert said.“What’s stopping you then?” Aaron asked, thrusting upwards against Robert, making his head fall forward at the sensation.“Bed,” Robert said shortly.“Sofa not good enough for you, is it?” Aaron teased, eyes light.“No,” Robert said. “Can’t see every inch of you on the sofa, I need a bed.”“Fine,” Aaron said. “Get off then.” Robert reluctantly got up, missing the touch and led Aaron up the stairs. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “My agent has an idea,” Robert said. They were both sated and tired, but happy. “That idiot,” Aaron murmured, curling up closer to Robert as Robert stroked his back gently.“No, not the one who tried to pay you off and got you running scared,” Robert said. “I’ve got a new one, Lizzie… oh, what was her last name? Thompson, that’s it.”“That was fast.”“Well, Steve had to go.” Robert said it like it was obvious and Aaron brushed his stubbled cheek against Robert’s chest, knowing he liked it. Robert shivered under him, making Aaron smile.“Idea,” Aaron prompted.“You know all the whatever are camped at the top of the driveway?” Robert said. Aaron nodded into Robert’s skin. “They won’t stop. They can scent blood so…”“Get to the point, Robert,” Aaron said bluntly.“We need to appear somewhere, give them something. Otherwise we’ll never be alone and they’ll always be there.”“So…?”“Lizzie knows this photographer, and we’d have final say on what gets out into the public domain,” Robert started uncomfortably. He knew Aaron wouldn’t be wild for the idea before he‘d even suggested it. “If you’re up for it.”“This is such a weird conversation,” Aaron said. “Discussing who and where some stranger takes photos of us? It’s no one else’s business.”“While you’re with me, I’m afraid it is,” Robert said sadly. “Get it over with.”“I honestly though it’d have died down by now,” Aaron said. “Do whatever you think, you know how to handle this more than me. Just… let me know before anything’s published, I guess.”“Okay,” Robert said. His hand slid between Aaron’s thighs. “We don’t have to do anything now, though, right.”“Higher…” Aaron whispered, smiling at him. “I’m pregnant.” Robert smiled at his sister warmly.“That’s great,” he said sincerely. Judging from the almost brimming joy on her face, this was certainly a good thing, and he hugged her. “You and Adam happy?”“Very,” she said. “I’m actually four months gone.” This did not surprise Robert. He had noticed his sister had put on weight, but that was the kind of thing you didn’t mention unless you wanted to insult someone.“Why didn’t you tell me?” Robert asked.“You’ve been busy,” she said with raised eyebrows. “How is Aaron?”“Okay.”“Now… how is he really? It’s a lot.”“Yeah, it is. But I think he’s doing okay.” They’d managed to escape Home Farm for the evening, Robert driving them down into the village, through the chaos of photographers. Aaron was currently in the pub, saying he hadn’t had a decent pint in ages, most likely with Adam. Robert thought he’d check in with his sister, as Vic had asked him to call her anyway. Now he knew why. “Thought of names yet?” Vic smiled to herself, and spent a good twenty minutes going through the shortlist. Robert smiled, it was so good to see her so happy.An hour went by and Robert drove Aaron back to his, where it had been decided Aaron would be staying, almost without a conversation. They both wanted to be together, to enjoy the touch. And they were happy, Adam having told Aaron about the pregnancy too. They were content together, even in spite of the press outside Home Farm. Too happy for it to last long. Two days later. “Why not? That’s a nice one!” Robert said indignantly. They were in bed, Robert had his laptop open and they were picking the photographs they’d be happy to have published. Robert was much more open to this possibility than Aaron was. He had grunted, not really getting that people wanted to gawp at them. Mark, the photographer had been allowed on the property and the land, and had caught almost a hundred of them, most were complete rubbish, some were indecent. Aaron did not like that Mark had pointed a camera at Robert’s bedroom one little bit. “At least we get final say,” Robert had pointed out, which only made Aaron grunt and groan.“Tell me what’s wrong with that photo? You look gorgeous.” Aaron did, he was ruffled in a T shirt and jogging bottoms, looking out of the bedroom window of Home Farm. Aaron pointed and Robert suddenly understood. His scar on his left arm was clearly visible. The permanent mark straight and damning.“I don’t want people asking questions,” Aaron said.“Can I ask questions?” Robert asked carefully.“You can ask,” Aaron said warily. “Okay.” Robert swallowed, suddenly nervous about saying the wrong thing. “Were you trying to kill yourself?”“Not that time,” Aaron said. “I… needed to cut to cope. And it got infected, which led to blood poisoning. None of which was intended. Adam rushed me to A and E when he found me collapsed.”“What do you mean, not that time?” Robert questioned.Aaron looked shifty but didn’t avoid answering. “When I realised I was gay, and when I knew fighting it wouldn’t help, I couldn’t cope. I couldn’t accept it. I locked myself in the garage and tried to… gas myself.” Robert looked completely shocked. “I’m not proud of it, and I’m quite glad someone was there to stop me.”“Why?” Robert asked. “You’ve hurt yourself so badly that you could have died twice, and that’s not even counting the other scars on your body. What is it that’s so bad? What hurts you so much?”“It’s er… complicated,” Aaron said. “And it’s hard to start telling you. I want to, but...”“I’m always here listening,” Robert said. Aaron shook his head. “When you’re ready.”“We’re meant to be picking photos,” Aaron said, an attempt at changing the subject. Robert looked at him sharply, then allowed him to let it drop. He’d never spoken to Robert about his scars, even though it was obvious they’d been self inflicted. So even opening up this much was progress. And Robert could be patient, he’d wait. It was eight oclock the next morning, Robert making coffee in the kitchen when his phone rang. He answered it, off hand. “Yeah?”It was Lizzie, sounding grim. “Have you seen it?” she asked.“Seen what?” Robert said. He hadn’t had his caffeine fix yet, cryptic messages were beyond him.“Page five and six of The Sun.”“No,” Robert said without even thinking. He’d most certainly not looked at any newspapers lately.“Robert, you need to read it, then tell me what to do,” Lizzie said.“Email it to me?”“Sure,” she said. “Doing it now.”“What is it?”“It’s a long, double page spread about Aaron,” Lizzie said.“Saying what?” Robert asked, sensing Lizzie’s reluctance, and knowing that wasn’t good.“That he was sexually abused by his father.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Robert almost dropped the phone. Why, who would lie about something as disgustingly perverse as that?! And then go and print such filth?! Even as his rational brain tried to deny it, the words let certain things slip into place. If it was true, it would explain a lot about Aaron. Why he couldn’t accept he was gay, why he hurt himself. Why he struggled to open up about his own history, and Robert knew he did struggle, even when he wanted to talk.“I need to talk to him,” Robert said, aware the phone was still connected. “I’ll… Surely that’s illegal? Isn’t that against privacy laws or something? They can’t print that, right?”“I’ll get on it,” Lizzie said. “I’m not sure, but I’ll check. You want a retraction?”“Have all the media outlets picked up on it, or just one?”“Just one,” Lizzie said. “A couple of the others are interested in a comment, but they’re not stupid. They know it’s a little bit of a legality issue.”“I have to go.”“Okay.” The call ended and Robert checked the email on his phone. It was a disgusting article. And whether true or not, he was going to sue the paper and seek damages. They couldn’t be allowed to print it and get away with it. Aaron awoke to a ringing, in bed alone. Groaning, he answered the phone. “What? S’early.”“Aaron, it’s… the papers printed some stuff about you.” He recognised Chas’s voice but it took a moment for the words to make any kind of meaning to him.“What kind of stuff?”“About you and Gordon.” Aaron sat up, suddenly well awake.“Is it… everything?”“Pretty much,” Chas said. “I thought I should warn you, if you haven’t told Robert…”“No, I haven’t,” Aaron said. “I’ve tried, but I can’t find the words.”“You need to talk to him.”“Thanks for the warning,” Aaron said bluntly, hanging up. He got out of bed and quickly dressed, not wanting to have this conversation wearing next to nothing.He zipped his hoodie up as he went down the stairs, finding Robert in the kitchen, sat at the table and scrolling through his phone. Just from the way Robert was sitting, stiff and on edge, and the frown on his face, Aaron knew he knew.“Is it true?” Robert asked hollowly, looking up as he heard the footsteps.“So one cheap tabloid prints a story about me and you ask me that?” Aaron said defensively.“I’m suing the paper,” Robert said offhand, standing up. “Because either they’re lying or have ignored the law that gives sexual abuse victims anonymity. Either way, I’m not letting them get away with it and hurt you this way. But I’m asking you, because I trust you, and I’d want you to tell me.” Aaron dug his fingernails into his palm hard. “No, don’t do that,” Robert said, grabbing his hand and stopping him. Robert dropped his hand quickly, not wanting to be touching him more than necessary right now. “Just tell me.”“Yes, it’s true,” Aaron said. Robert looked appalled and Aaron hated himself for admitting it. For putting that look on Robert’s face.“That’s what these were for, isn’t it?” Robert asked softly. His fingers traced the air above the scars he couldn’t see. Robert knew exactly where they were, he’d kissed along them often enough.“Yeah,” Aaron admitted. “I… struggled to cope when I knew I was gay, I’ve told you that. But it went deeper because I thought… he did this to me. He made me like it and want it. And that was a hard thought to cope with. To know that he‘d hurt me that way, and what, I wanted more of the same?”“It’s not the same,” Robert said.“I know, now,” Aaron said. “But as a confused teenager, I didn’t know that. The thoughts… pushed me to the edge.”“I’m not surprised,” Robert said. “You don’t still feel like that, do you?”“No,” Aaron said. “I don’t. But it’s the reason I wasn’t prepared to hide with you, no matter how famous you were. I can’t hide who I am, it hurt me too much for too long.”“I wish you’d told me,” Robert said.“I would have.”“Aaron…” Robert said softly.“No, I would have,” Aaron repeated. “I’ve been trying to find the words lately, but it’s difficult. I don’t want to put that look on your face.”“What look?” Robert asked. Aaron didn’t answer. “You could have told me sooner, before we were serious.”“What, am I supposed to tell everyone I meet, hi I’m Aaron, my dad raped me repeatedly when I was a kid?” Robert scoffed. “You’d have treated me differently.”“I wouldn’t.”“Everyone does when they know,” Aaron said. “Everyone. And I was working up to telling you, I really was. For something like that you’ve got to find the right moment. But even the control over when I’d tell you what I went through has gone. It’s been taken from me.”Aaron’s voice wobbled and Robert wanted to hold him but didn’t know if that’d do more damage. The look in Aaron’s eyes told him he needed it and Robert wrapped his arms tight around him. Aaron almost crumpled against him, needing his support.“If I’d told you earlier, you’d have run.”“I wouldn’t have run,” Robert said into his neck.“Maybe.”“If you never want to talk about what he did to you, that’s okay,” Robert said, pulling back but keeping his hands on Aaron’s face surely. “If you need to talk about it, that’s fine too.”“I will need to say… certain things,” Aaron said, wiping his eyes angrily. “I’d thought a lot about how I’d tell you, what I’d say. None of which is what they printed.”“I’m sure,” Robert said. “Want to talk now?”“No. I need a drink,” Aaron said firmly. He didn’t care that he hadn’t even had breakfast, talking about that man always hurt him.“I love you,” Robert said. “This doesn’t change that. It does not change how I see you.”“Thank you,” Aaron said, voice still shaky. Aaron didn’t care about the time of day, he needed whisky if they were going to continue talking about this, and they both sat around the kitchen table. “Aaron, I need you to talk to me,” Robert said. “How… bad was it?” Aaron looked down at the table.“I don’t think rape has a good side,” he said darkly. “I’m fine as long as I don’t see him. When I see Gordon, I fall apart. He got back with my mum and I started hurting myself again. And ended up in A and E.”“How long’s he in prison for?”“He isn’t,” Aaron said. Robert spluttered. “Don’t start.”“Why?!”“Because I didn’t go to trial,” Aaron said. “I couldn’t, and I had no proof anyway.”“Aaron…”“I’m not strong enough to stand in front of a courtroom full of strangers and detail every filthy thing he forced on me,” Aaron said. “I can’t do it, especially when it’s only my word versus his.”“So, he’s free?” Robert asked in disbelief. “You could see him any time and…”“Robert, stop it,” Aaron said firmly. “It’s in the past.”“Aaron!”“I’ve got a restraining order against him,” Aaron said. “He isn’t allowed to see me, and that’s as far as I can go.”“Think about it,” Robert said, fighting to stay calm. “You could get him locked up, out of your life forever.”“Robert, I’m only going to say this once,” Aaron said. “He abused me. The first time I was too young to really understand what was even happening to me. It is my choice whether I report it, and I’ve had my choices taken away from me in the past. I won’t allow you to pressure me into it either.”Robert nodded once. He understood, but the fact that Aaron’s father was walking around freely made Robert want to scream. How did Aaron bear it?“I’m going to have a shower,” Aaron said. “If this conversation’s finished.”“Yeah,” Robert said. “Are you okay?”“Not really,” Aaron said. “Something you needed to know, though.” By the time Aaron came downstairs after a long shower, and calming down from that emotionally charged conversation, Robert had just about finished with phone calls. He looked too tired for this early in the morning. He forced a smile when he saw Aaron. “Don’t let it change us,” Aaron said, the thing he'd worried about the most. “I like how we are.”“Mm,” Robert said. “Been speaking to lawyers, publicists, Lizzie, everyone.”“Why? People will forget, just let them,” Aaron said with a shrug. Robert didn’t mention that it’s unfortunate timing, because the gossip mags had been running with the pre-approved, almost affectionate photos on the same day. Meaning that their relationship is again in the spotlight.“Right, I want breakfast,” Aaron said firmly. “Instead of whisky. Come with me to the café.”“We won’t be alone," Robert warned.“I don’t care,” Aaron said. He felt after talking to Robert about the abuse, a few cameras weren't the worst of his problems by a long shot. “We decided to come out to the press together, mainly so we didn’t have to hide. In case you haven’t noticed, since it all came out, all we’ve done is hide. I want to have breakfast with my boyfriend and a coffee at Bob’s. Are you coming?”Robert smiled at him, marvelling at the strength Aaron had. He was such an amazing man, in spite of how shit life had treated him. He got up and walked towards Aaron, kissing him so softly. “Yes. Just let me get ready.”“Couldn’t have the cameras catching your bad side, could you?” Aaron quipped, his eyes sparkling like the Aaron that had so attracted him in the first place. Robert smiled, and instinctively knew he could… no, they could get through this. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- As expected, the cameras were all there, outside Home Farm, and in the village. There are even a couple of journalists in the café, snapping them in a way they clearly think is discreet on their phones. Robert’s used to this kind of thing, he’s more concerned about how Aaron’s coping with it. But he seemed unbothered. Their conversation that morning would have effected him more, Robert knew.In the café, they sat next to each other, because Vic had come in and sat opposite them, almost glowing with happiness, her feet up on the sofa. They were all purposefully ignoring the topic of conversation of the media. Robert noticed one of those trashy magazines poking out the top of her handbag and looked at it pointedly. Vic squashed it down impatiently.When Aaron and Robert’s breakfasts arrived, they both stared at Vic who systematically stole things off their plates. Aaron slapped her hand when she went for his second rasher of bacon.“Oi, that’s mine,”“Pregnant woman here!” she said in her defence.“Can we have another one please Bob?” Robert asked.“Right you are,” he said easily. It was nice, Robert realised. Having breakfast with his boyfriend and his sister was nice. And after the emotional morning, that was good to have. “Found him.”“Where?” Robert asked, staring into space in his kitchen as if he was hanging onto every word that was spoken to him over the phone.“Exeter. South west.”That made Robert pause. Exeter was at the other end of the country, and might just be far enough away to live with, if Aaron wanted to. For some reason, Robert had expected Gordon to be somewhere close by. That creepy feeling he couldn’t quite name. “What’s he up to?” Robert asked.“Not working currently,” his private investigator said. “He’s er… undergoing cancer treatment.”“Prognosis?” Robert asked, thinking that if the justice system didn’t get him, fate might just intervene. Cancer couldn’t happen to a nicer man.“I can’t get into his medical files. They‘re sealed, it‘s wildly illegal.”“I’ll double your fee,” Robert said without even thinking.“Give me a few hours.”“Perfect.”“Who was that?” Robert hung up and turned around, seeing Aaron standing at the door. How long had he been listening in?“No one,” Robert said. “Just Lizzie checking in with the response to the photos, which has been positive actually and…”“Stop bullshitting me,” Aaron said. “You’re a good actor, but you’re not that good.”“All right,” Robert said, relenting. “I hired a private investigator to track down where Gordon is. I’m sorry, I just thought you’d want to know.”“I don’t,” Aaron said firmly, staring at Robert. “I have no need to know where he is as long as it’s far away from me. How dare you look him up? I told you I wanted it dropped.”“Aaron…”“Robert, I don’t want to be involved with anything to do with that man! If I know where he is, it’ll panic me.”“Okay, I won’t… continue it. I couldn’t just sit here being inactive! So…”“Do not tell me where he is,” Aaron said. “I mean it, I want nothing to do with him.”“Okay,” Robert repeated. “I hate the thought of anyone hurting you, I want to kill him.”“I know that feeling,” Aaron said, his tone softening now. “The anger doesn’t help.” Robert nodded, staring at his hands. “When’ve you next got to go somewhere?” Aaron asked, an attempt at changing the subject and calming down.“Next week,” Robert said. “Monday, I’m flying into New York.”“For what?”“Filming a new project.”“Right,” Aaron said. “And how long’s that going to be?” Robert sighed, which was answer enough. “How long are you going to be out of the country, Robert?”“Three months.”“What?” Aaron asked faintly. “No, you can’t.” Robert smiled without any real amusement. “You can’t… I can’t be away from you for that long.”“You could come with me,” Robert said. Aaron rolled his eyes, then saw that he was serious. “You could.”“I have a life here,” Aaron said. “I can’t drop everything just for you. You wouldn’t if it were the other way around, be honest.” Robert didn’t argue. He couldn’t. As much as he might like to, his life wouldn’t come to a complete stand still for Aaron. “I’ve missed enough work at the garage, and you might see it as beneath you, but it’s family. And Cain’s been good to me, I don’t want to let him down.”“I know,” Robert said, reaching out and placing his hand against Aaron‘s face tenderly. “You’re a good man.”“Don’t tell anyone,” Aaron said with raised eyebrows. Robert smiled at him. “I want a bath.”“You had a shower this morning,” Robert said, frowning. It was barely three in the afternoon.“Yeah,” Aaron said. “I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t be alone.” Robert smiled and nodded, taking Aaron’s hand and going up stairs. They didn’t have sex, both of them feeling like it might be too soon after Aaron‘s revelation. But they did kiss and touch an awful lot, stroking skin and enjoying each others bodies, in an almost novel way as it didn’t culminate in sex. Robert lay back in the bath, Aaron wrapped around him, his head on Robert’s chest. It was wonderfully comfortable, surrounded by each other and the hot water, even if the bath was a touch on the small side. Robert’s hand was tangled in Aaron’s hair, his other hand resting on the small of his back.“How do you…” Robert stopped himself. Probably not the right time to be talking about Gordon, when they were laying naked together.“Go on.”“Well, I flatter myself by thinking we have quite an active interesting sex life, and…” Robert stopped uncomfortably. “You know what, it’s not my business, it’s a horrible question, forget it.” Aaron knew what he was trying to say.“I was terrified the first time I slept with a man,” Aaron admitted. “Nathan. I only went through with it because I was determined not to let that bastard win. I wanted him, but God I was scared.”“And?”“It was good,” Aaron said easily. “But the best thing was that I knew I could, if I wanted. That he hadn’t won.”“Have you always enjoyed it with me?” Robert asked.“Yes,” Aaron said honestly. He snuggled into Robert’s neck, not really minding talking about this as much as he thought he would. It was a lot easier when they were touching too. “You need a bigger bath.”“I like being squashed with you, thank you very much,” Robert said, making Aaron smile.“Who was your first guy?” Aaron asked.“Don’t know.”“Come on,” Aaron said. “I’ve told you really personal things about myself, and you can’t even…”“No, I mean I don’t know his name,” Robert said. “Never did. Names weren’t important at the time, but I remember what he looked like.”“Go on, then,” Aaron said. “Tell me more about him.”Robert sighed heavily. “All right. I met him in a club, not too long after I left here. He was tall, six foot three of four. Really fit, tanned, muscled…”“Careful, I’ll get jealous,” Aaron teased. Robert smiled, but carried on.“He wasn’t gentle and I’d never felt anything that intense before.” Robert sighed. “It sounds stupid, but because he was a lot bigger than me, it was the first time I’d felt… I don’t know, protected maybe. And looked after, which is completely stupid because it was a one night stand.” He tailed off and after a few seconds realised Aaron was carrying some tension.“What?”Aaron shrugged, which was difficult in their positions. “Well, I don’t make you feel like that, do I?”“Of course you do.”“Yeah, right,” Aaron scoffed. Robert shifted in the water, letting his hand squeeze Aaron’s arm.“I’d deny it if you ever told anyone, but, you’re stronger than me, and I like that." Aaron smiled into his skin, appreciating the lie.“I don’t want you to go to New York,” Aaron admitted. “I know it’s your life and I know that you have to go, but… I’ll miss you.”“You can visit,” Robert suggested. “There’s no way I can go that long without you.”“I can’t afford that,” Aaron said. “Flying back and forth.” The hesitation from Robert was telling. “I don’t want you paying either.”“But I’d get to see you,” Robert said. “And I’m the one who’s leaving.”“All right,” Aaron said reluctantly. “But you stick me in first class, I’ll kill you.”“Fair enough," Robert said with a laugh. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The week until Robert left seemed to go by so quickly. Aaron had practically moved into Home Farm, not wanting to waste any of the limited time they had. It was the evening before he was due to leave, and they were in bed together.“You could stay here in the house without me,” Robert suggested. “I wouldn’t mind, I trust you.”“No, I couldn’t,” Aaron said. “This is your place, I couldn’t be here without you. It‘d feel wrong.”“You could go to the house I bought for you…” Robert suggested, making Aaron roll his eyes. They‘d not mentioned it since their fight about it in London. “Be better than above the pub. More private. Space away from the press.” They had tried to get on with their own lives, but even when Aaron was doing nothing more interesting than working at the garage, they were always present, watching him. And they were in the pub too. Chas would have complained, but apparently journalists drink a lot and were filling the pub till quite nicely. If they were going to be there anyway, the least they could do was make some money off them.“I’ll think about it,” Aaron said.“Will you really?” Robert asked. He wanted to protect Aaron best he could. A protective feeling he’d never had with anyone else which he didn’t want to examine too closely.“Got the keys? Could have a look around,” Aaron suggested lightly.“That would mean a lot to me,” Robert said sincerely, stroking a hand down Aaron’s back. “I don’t think you have your own best interests at heart sometimes.”“I’m enjoying saying goodbye to you,” Aaron said, rolling his hips into Robert‘s body, making him gasp slightly. “Don’t spoil it by lecturing me.”“Keys are in the office,” Robert said. “Bottom drawer of my desk, in an envelope with your name on.”“Remind me why you even have an office and a desk? It‘s not like you spend a lot of time pushing paperclips around.”“Need somewhere to keep my tax returns,” Robert said. He pulled Aaron to him, so Aaron straddled his waist looming above him. Robert arched upwards, punctuating almost every word with a kiss to any part of Aaron’s body he could reach. “Insurance, property deeds, income, lawyers fees, film contracts, agency agreements, interviews I’ve given, or promised to in the future. Need somewhere to put all the paperwork don’t I?” Aaron rolled his eyes again, a seemingly constant occurrence around Robert lately, skin glowing from the attention. Robert stroked his thighs and Aaron lay down on top of him, enjoying feeling Robert everywhere.“Speaking of interviews,” Aaron said. “What’re we up to now?”“180,” Robert said.“Thousand?”“Mm,” Robert agreed, stroking his skin.“That’s stupid money,” Aaron said in disbelief.“Apparently the fact you don’t want to give an interview is seen as a plea for more cash.”People were bidding for the first joint interview with both Robert and Aaron, heatedly. Aaron’s complete disinterest wasn’t putting any of them off either. Robert privately thought it would get to 250 before they got the message that Aaron really wasn’t interested in speaking to journalists.“Would it be okay if Kat came to see you now and again while I’m away?” Robert asked but could see instantly Aaron hadn’t taken that well, bristling at the suggestion as he rolled off Robert and looked at him.“I can look after myself, I’m a big boy…”“I know,” Robert interrupted cheekily. Aaron ignored the innuendo.“I do not need your friends checking up on me while you’re in New York,” Aaron said firmly.“She liked you,” Robert said honestly. “And she knows what the press can be like, she’d tell me the truth.”“And I wouldn’t?” Aaron countered.“No, if things got too much, you’d tell me you’re fine and then run away again,” Robert said pointedly.“You know me too damn well,” Aaron said. Privately he liked it. He liked that he was with someone who knew him this well. But that didn’t mean he was up for being spied on either.“To do my job, I need to be able to switch off from real life,” Robert said. “I can’t do that if I don’t know you’re okay.”“Okay, I’ll see her,” Aaron said reluctantly. “Don’t expect me to be overly nice to the woman you’re sending to spy on me, though.”“It’s not spying…” Robert said.“Make sure she’s giving me good reports?” Aaron said, though his voice was light and teasing, not really offended which made Robert relieved. That could have gone the other way. “Who do I send to spy on you?”“I can take care of myself,” Robert said. Aaron scoffed at him being a total hypocrite. “I’ll have security, I’ll be on a closed film set most days, surrounded by people. Plus I’ve dealt with the press for nearly a decade in different ways. I can cope with it. But I will miss you.”“Promise me you…” Aaron started, then tailed off. Robert looked at him expectantly. “Promise me you won’t sleep with someone else. I mean, you’re going to have beautiful women throwing themselves at you, you’re rich and famous and gorgeous and I couldn’t bear losing you.”“All that might be true, but I’m in love with the grumpy git back home,” Robert said, making Aaron smile, which made him look younger. Robert stroked a hand through his hair softly. “I won’t sleep with anyone. Except you, when you visit. Which you will, yeah?”“Yeah, yeah,” Aaron said. “The sex is too good to leave you alone for too long.” Aaron laughed as Robert’s hands started tickling him, knowing his weak spots. When the laughter subsided, they both lay next to each other, unable to tear their eyes off each other.“Make love to me,” Robert whispered. “I want to feel you when I’m stuck on a plane tomorrow.”“Oh, there’s a challenge,” Aaron said, pulling Robert into a deep kiss. “I’m not coming with you,” Aaron said, though that didn’t surprise Robert. Everyone and his mother had a phone these days, and neither wanted their goodbye caught on cameras at the airport. They stood in the hallway of Home Farm, Aaron had his arms around Robert’s waist, and they were both ignoring the beeping of a car horn outside, which meant Robert’s lift to the airport was here.“I know,” Robert said. “Call me whenever you want to, and you can use Charlie for anything you need.”“That’ll prove expensive,” Aaron said. Robert didn’t even answer, the money wasn’t important.“Keep an eye on Vic,” Robert continued. Then he shook his head. “This is ridiculous, I’m going to America, I’m not dying.”“Yeah,” Aaron said, kissing him gently. “You’re being stupid.”“Come in three weeks. Don’t leave it longer,” Robert said.“Three weeks,” Aaron agreed. “I’ve never been to America. It might hold more attractions than you do,” he teased. Robert pinched his arse, leaving them both laughing.“Go,” Aaron said lightly. “Don’t want to miss your flight.”“Ah, they’d probably hold the plane for me.”“I don’t even want to know if you’re joking or not,” Aaron said. “Go.” Robert kissed him passionately once more and then they broke apart. Robert opened the door, and a driver was there, ready to put his suitcase in the car. Robert let him, looking at Aaron, drinking him in.“I’ll be fine,” Aaron said. “I can cope without you, it’ll be like you were never here.”“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Robert said.“Who could forget you?” Aaron said. Robert looked reassured, but that was as far as Aaron was going to go. “I’m not in the habit of stroking your ego, that’s what you pay people for.” Robert smiled, and kissed him gently.“Bye.”“Bye.” Aaron watched as he got in the car, going up the drive. When he was alone, Aaron let out a deep breath. He’d coped perfectly well without Robert in his life for years, so why did being alone now bother him? Aaron turned back to the house, only then realising that Robert had left him with the keys. If that wasn't trust, he didn't know what was. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Robert settled into his hotel suite, tired after a long flight and no sleep the night before. He had a five am wake up call the next morning to start filming. Realistically he should have been in New York for days, to adjust to the time difference and be calm before diving in to a new project. But he hadn’t wanted to leave Aaron, which meant tomorrow was going to be… challenging.“Anything else sir?” the concierge asked.“No. Thank you. Actually yes,” he said, changing his mind as the man reached the door. “If any calls come through from Aaron Dingle at the front desk, can you make sure you put them straight through to my room? I don’t care what time it is, I want them put through.”“I’ll make a note,” he said. Robert didn’t really expect Aaron to call the hotel over his mobile, but wanted to be sure that Aaron could always reach him if necessary.“Thank you.” Robert poured himself some whisky and sighed when he was alone. He started unpacking, knowing from experience that if he didn’t, he’d end up living from his suitcase. At least unpacked, he’d feel slightly less rotten.When he did open his suitcase, he stopped. There were three photos of Aaron there, ones he’d never seen before. And Aaron didn’t like having his photograph taken, he deleted most of the ones on Robert’s phone. He looked gorgeous, fluffy haired and relaxed and Robert recognised that this would have taken a lot from Aaron. To have some photos printed of himself, then put them in Robert’s suitcase. He didn’t have much self confidence, and Robert appreciated this. A lot. How Aaron couldn’t see the effect he had on him was unbelievable.“Gorgeous,” Robert text him.“I’m watching Clear Sight.” Robert laughed. He’d never shown much interest in the films Robert made, but that one if Robert remembered rightly had him shirtless for several scenes.“Missing me already?”“Prefer the real thing to be honest.” Robert smiled, almost able to hear his tone of voice.“I need to sleep, early wake up call tomorrow. Sorry,” Robert text him.“Your alter ego will have to keep me company instead. Night x,” Aaron replied. And with talking to Aaron, Robert could finally sleep. “So this is where Robert grew up?” Aaron looked up from the car he was elbow deep in to see Kat. She looked completely out of place here, perfectly thin and beautiful, so well put together that she shouldn’t be seen anywhere near a dirty garage. The bag hanging off her arm probably cost more than his car.“Got a problem with your car?” Aaron asked bluntly.“No.”“Then I’m working,” Aaron said, returning to the engine.“Nope,” Kat said cheerfully. “I hadn’t imagined your grumpiness.”“Seriously, Kat, I have so much to catch up on,” Aaron said. “Robert’s a major distraction when he’s here. Now that he's not I need to put the hard graft in.”“I can wait.”“How good a friend to him are you?” Aaron asked. “That you’d drop everything and come to Yorkshire to keep an eye on me because he asked?”“He got in the way of an ex boyfriend of mine,” Kat said, seeming serious now. “I had… a man who liked hitting me. When I tried to end the relationship he’d… he went too far and Robert got in the way. Rob got a black eye for it, and in return he fractured this mans jaw. I owe him an awful lot.”“And I’m the favour am I?” Aaron asked, a little surprised by this story.“Something like that,” she said.“Look, I’ve got to get this car done,” Aaron said, softening a little. “There’s a café over there, I’ll join you in half an hour on my lunch break.”“Great!” she said cheerfully, sauntering off to Bob’s. Aaron sighed and turned back to the car.“Who’s that?” Aaron’s eyes flicked to Cain.“Kat, she's a friend of Robert’s,” Aaron said.“How come you have someone who looks like that when you’re gay?” Cain asked, his eyes still following the path the blonde had taken.“Careful,” Aaron said. “Moira wouldn’t like to hear you talking like that.” Cain scoffed and dropped the subject. “Right, you’ve got me for twenty minutes, you can report back to Robert that I’m being a good little boy, then leave me in peace, okay?” Aaron said. Kat smiled sweetly and pushed a cup of coffee towards him. Aaron took the offering and sat down.“How are you?” she said.“Hungry. Bacon sarnie please Bob,” Aaron added as the man in question passed. Bob nodded with a smile.“I meant, how are you with Robert awol?”“I did actually manage to survive without him,” Aaron said, a little annoyed. “I don’t fall apart just because he’s on another continent.”“I’m not your enemy,” Kat said wide eyed. “I bought you a coffee.”“I’m okay,” Aaron said, relenting a little. “I can’t help that I miss him.”“You could go to America,” she suggested. “Honestly, what’s keeping you here? It’s a tin pot village in the middle of nowhere, and you’re working as a mechanic.”“Oi, I’m just starting to like you.”“Robert could take care of you,” Kat suggested. “He isn’t overly precious about his money, it’d be fine. I know he loves you.”“Difference is I don’t want to be taken care of,” Aaron said bluntly. “I don’t want his money, this was my life for a long time before he came walking into it.”“You’d never need to work again.”“Slow down,” Aaron said. “It’s not like we’re getting married. He’ll get bored of me sooner or later.”“Do you really believe that?” Kat asked, frowning at him.“Almost everyone does,” Aaron said casually. “I just want to enjoy him while I have him. I mean, come on. He’s a film star, he’s not going to slum it with me for long.”“Aaron, he loves you,” Kat said. “I’ve never seen him like this before. Have a bit of faith.”Aaron smiled at her. It was easier to trust in how Robert felt when he was close by. It was harder to remember that it wasn’t a dream or a fantasy when Robert was out of the country. Because how could Robert seriously be in love with him? The good thing was Robert did call everyday. That could be at any time during the night, but Aaron never minded. He liked hearing Robert’s voice a lot more than he‘d ever admit.“I just miss him,” Aaron said. “It’s… well, he’s not here is he?” Aaron didn’t do talking about his feelings, and certainly not with someone like Kat who was almost a stranger. He wouldn’t even discuss this with Adam, or his mum.“He misses you,” Kat said. “Avoiding the nightlife too, no inappropriate photos have appeared.”“Do they normally?” Aaron asked.“Oh yes,” Kat said.“Cheers Bob,” Aaron said as he delivered the bacon sandwich. “You can tell Robert I’m fine, and the press haven’t made me bolt.”“What about your house, what am I telling him about that?” Aaron hadn’t gone to see it, though he’d been tempted.“Mind his own business,” Aaron said grumpily.“Who’s that?” Kat asked“Hiya mate,” Adam said, coming over. Then his eyes stopped on Kat. “You’re Catherine Dujardin?”“Last time I checked,” she said pleasantly. Adam’s eyes were almost bulging at her.“Hate to burst the bubble here,” Aaron started as he saw them both staring at each other. “But you’re married.” Adam almost physically shook himself out of his stupor and blinked, though Kat looked the most disappointed.“Right, yeah,” he said. “Vic actually sent me for a cream bun. Cravings and all.”“He’s married?!” Kat hissed to Aaron as Adam went to the counter. “Why, why is life so unfair!”“Before you go too far down that road, Adam’s married to Robert’s sister,” Aaron warned.“Oh.” Kat sighed, but kept watching Adam over the top of her coffee until he left.“Glad to see you’re overly worried about me,” Aaron said sarcastically.“Well you’re clearly fine,” Kat said, waving her hand in dismissal. “Me, I’ve been single for far too long, and that Adam looks just my type. I really had hopes there.”“What, for all of half a minute?”“I’m a fast mover,” she said with a smile. Aaron couldn't resist smiling too. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Aaron went up to the house. His house. The one Robert had bought on a whim and he’d never been to. With the house keys in Robert’s desk was the address, which Aaron plugged into his phones sat nav. It didn’t take long to find, it was on the outskirts of the village, the opposite way to Robert’s place. Which Aaron was glad of, it would be too… oppressive maybe? If Robert had bought a place directly near his house. Or maybe Aaron was over thinking it. His phone told him to turn left down almost a dirt track which was going to ruin the suspension on his car. Aaron followed it for what felt like a mile until he reached a cottage. A very abandoned looking cottage. Aaron parked and unlocked it, the door creaking as he pushed it open. It was very small, and it was obvious that no one had actually lived here for a good ten years, possibly longer.It only had one bedroom and a bathroom upstairs, and a large room downstairs, combining both kitchen and living room. Robert had been right, it was a bolt hole and nothing more. He’d probably bought it more for the land if he ever wanted to escape from the press and the attention that being with Robert Sugden would bring him, though since Robert had left, the journalists had been less demanding and eager. Aaron’s phone rang and he answered it, surprised he got reception here. He sat down on the sofa, ignoring the small cloud of dust that rose in front of him.“Yeah?”“Hi.” Robert’s voice was familiar and wonderful and Aaron sighed happily.“What’re you doing calling me?” Aaron asked. “Isnt it the middle of the day there?”“Any other person would be eager,” Robert said. “But no, you complain about the timing of the call.” Aaron laughed. “They wanted to film outside today, but it’s raining. I’m on stand by until the weather passes over.”“So you thought, I’m bored, I’ll call Aaron,” he said, teasing.“Yeah, pretty much,” Robert said. “How are you?”“Why, what did Kat tell you?”“Said I should stop worrying about you,” Robert said. “But I won’t, I like worrying about you.” His voice had dropped and Aaron sighed. If they were together, he knew what that voice would mean.“Robert, I can’t. Not over the phone.”“I know,” Robert said. “Booked your flight from Manchester.”“Oh, great,” Aaron said sincerely. “When?”“Friday night, eight o’clock in the evening. Means I get you all to myself Saturday when you arrive.”“You do realise I’ll probably be sleeping when I get there,” Aaron said.“You can sleep on the plane,” Robert said, like it was obvious.“I can’t sleep on planes,” Aaron said. “Never can.”“Oh,” Robert said. “Okay, I’ll move the flight to earlier in the day, I was trying to…”“You’ll do no such thing,” Aaron said. “Friday evening is perfect. Car waiting for me at JFK?”“Yeah, it’s already arranged,” Robert said.“I was joking,” Aaron replied.“I’m not,” Robert said. “Want you safe. And at my hotel as soon as physically possible.”“You’ve got a one track mind,” Aaron teased.“I miss you,” Robert said. “Where are you?”“I’ve actually gone to check out the house you bought,” Aaron admitted. “It’s a wreck.”“Yeah I know,” Robert said. “Dead cheap too, in case you were worried about that.”“I may not have… let you know at the time, but I appreciate it,” Aaron said. “Thanks.”“Okay, good,” Robert said. “How’s the press?”“Mostly gone. It was you they were interested in, not me. Though I have had one persistent one wanting an interview.”“What’ve you told them?” Robert asked.“To go away,” Aaron said. “Though I might have used stronger language.”“Aaron…”“It’s fine,” Aaron said. “I’m fine. How’re you?”“Good,” Robert said. “Though I’ve had my hair cut way too short for this film, you’re not going to like it.”“Oh?”“Well, I don’t like it,” Robert said bluntly.“That your biggest concern right now?” Aaron teased, trying not to laugh. “The state of your hair?”“I like that you like what I look like,” Robert said. There was a muffle on the background of the phone line and Aaron knew this conversation was coming to an end, Robert would be needed elsewhere.“Aaron, I…”“Have to go,” he finished for him without malice. “I get it, you’re busy.”“I’m all yours on the weekend though,” Robert promised. “Got three whole days off, back to work on Tuesday.”“Oh, what shall we do with three days?” Aaron said lightly. “Go.”“Love you.”“I love you,” Aaron said lowly. The call ended and Aaron sighed. He loved hearing Robert’s voice, but it was also a stark reminder that he wasn’t here. He wished he could drive to Home Farm and Robert would just be there. Aaron sighed again, looking around the house. No good sitting and thinking about him, he’d be seeing Robert soon enough. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The week passed slowly. Aaron cleaned the house up, but didn’t replace any of the furniture. Didn’t have the money or the inclination. But he did get rid of all the dust, the dirt and two mice that seemed to have holed up under the kitchen floorboards, and it was at least habitable. Chas had complained that she was barely seeing her son lately, what with the house, work at the garage and him imminently leaving for America, he’d only been to the pub to sleep.“How’re you coping?” she asked about an hour before he left.“Mum, I don’t need a deep in depth conversation,” Aaron said. “I’m going to see Robert tomorrow, just leave it.”“I get to be concerned about you!” she said. Trust now for Chas to be the time to pick to get involved in his feelings. “He’s not been in the country for three weeks, he could have moved on and…”“Mum, I trust Robert,” Aaron said calmly. “And you know as well as I do that if he’d been with anyone else the gossip columns would be discussing it to death.”“You don’t read those,” Chas pointed out.“No. But you do, and if there was anything I’m sure you’d be sticking it under my nose right about now.” Chas looked deflated and Aaron smiled. “Why don’t you like him?” Aaron asked.“He’s too famous,” Chas said. “God knows I want you to be happy, but… they won’t stop discussing you. The press and, I want you away from all that.”“Sadly it comes with him,” Aaron said. “I don’t like it either, but I love him. And I have a flight to catch.”“Then call me,” Chas urged. “I’ll need to hear that you’re okay.”“What is it with you and Robert?” Aaron asked with a scowl. “I am capable of looking after myself.”“I know. Just… checking.” Chas smiled at him then let her pull him in for a hug. “Take care.”“Yeah, yeah.” Aaron had got to the airport early, wanting to escape Chas’s questions and honestly, looking forward to seeing Robert too much to hang around the village. Which meant he had time to kill once he’d checked in and dropped his suitcase off. Aaron sat in a bar, drinking overpriced beer and checking the messages on his phone, distracted, when he realised three women in their early twenties were at the other side of him, pointing and obviously talking about him. Then he remembered. Because of Robert he was going to be recognisable. People would talk and point at him, for as long as he was with Robert. It came with the territory, but that didn’t make it any more comfortable for him. Aaron pulled his sleeves down over his hands, feeling self conscious just knowing people were watching him.“Another pint please,” he said gruffly as one of the staff passed him, getting a nod. By the time he had a replacement drink in front of him, one of the girls seemed to have been brave enough to approach him and Aaron sighed heavily.“You’re… you look a lot like Aaron, the guy that… Robert Sugden’s seeing. Is it you?” Aaron could deny it, but he thought about it for long enough that the girls face broke out into a wide smile. “I thought it was you! I’m Zoë, so… what’s Robert Sugden like in person? Is he really that gorgeous?”“Not my business to talk about him,” Aaron said neutrally. Robert had told him several times to be careful what he said to strangers. You never knew who was either a journalist, or prepared to sell to one.“Seriously, how did you get with him?” she pressed, not giving up. “I mean no one knew he was gay, he hid that so well and…”“Again, I’m not going to talk about him,” Aaron said firmly. "And he's bi, not gay."“Did you know him before he was famous?” she carried on. “Did you follow him to that village where he now lives?”“A bit more to it than location,” Aaron said shortly.Aaron sighed, wishing his flight was boarding now and not in forty minutes time. “Where’re you flying to?”Aaron got up, abandoning his half drunk pint and attempting to escape her. “I have a flight to catch,” he said quickly. “Nice to meet you Chloe.”“Zoë!” she snapped as Aaron retreated. She went back to her friends grumbling and Aaron took the chance to escape. Luckily, she didn’t follow him, but it did leave Aaron thinking. This is what his life would be every single place that wasn’t home. He would be recognised and pointed at, and whispered about, always. And all for Robert. Was it worth it? If you didn’t think it was worth it, you wouldn’t be in an airport in the first place. Aaron nodded to himself, and attempted to find his gate. He also made a big focus of mind to stop his fingernails digging into his palm. Robert woke up early, even by his standards when he was usually up at the crack of dawn for work. Aaron’s flight was meant to land at 6:45am, and given time through immigration and to get to the hotel, he should be here at around nine. Or later if it took longer to get through passport control. Robert eventually got a text from the driver, saying Aaron was on his way and sighed with relief, though he would have preferred a call from Aaron himself. It felt like an awfully long time since he’d seen Aaron. He hadn’t really had the time to miss him though, he’d been so busy. But every day, whenever he had a few minutes, he did call Aaron, and the sound of his voice, his easy teasing, his not giving a shit about Robert’s fame was such a balm to him. Robert needed that, especially when he was surrounded by people who wanted to give in to his every whim.Robert started pacing, waiting for Aaron. All he wore was a T shirt and jogging bottoms, knowing that when he and Aaron got physical they were usually unstoppable. And he was looking forward to a heated reunion. If he were a normal person, he’d have gone to the airport himself, but knew neither of them would want the attention. He’d told the reception of the hotel that Aaron was expected and for him to come straight up, but Robert was getting impatient. If it was a different time of day, he’d be starting on the whisky. He hadn’t even called for room service for breakfast, he just wanted Aaron here, with him.Soon enough there was a knock on the door, and he opened it, smiling at Aaron. In the brief glance he caught of him before he kissed him hello, Robert knew he was tired. But he was here, looked good and felt better. And the one passionate kiss, the all too brief taste of him wasn’t enough when Aaron drew back.“Hang on,” Aaron said. “I need a good five minutes to make fun of you for that.” Aaron pointed to his head and Robert rolled his eyes, rubbing a hand to his head self consciously. His hair was way too short and he knew it would certainly be a talking point.“It’ll grow, and they’re paying me enough. Come on.” Aaron crossed the threshold and looked at the suite, impressed as he closed the door.“Wow.”“You’re not here to look at the room,” Robert said with a slight grin, walking towards Aaron and pulling him into his arms.“Am I not?” Aaron said easily. Robert smiled into a kiss, the pressure of Aaron’s body felt right, and they slotted together like they’d never been apart. And Robert felt like he could breathe again, because Aaron was safe in his arms. The kiss quickly became desperate, hands fumbling under clothes. Aaron moaned quietly, sending Robert’s pulse racing.“You could have called, told me you’d landed,” Robert breathed against his neck, groaning as Aaron‘s hand wandered, clutching at his arse.“Stupid phone wouldn’t do it,” Aaron countered. “Can’t get anything to work on it here.”“You need something better than that piece of crap,” Robert said. “So I can always reach you and…”“Why are we arguing about a phone?” Aaron said quickly, looking into Robert‘s blue eyes. “I’ve got much better things to be doing with my mouth right now.” Robert laughed against Aaron‘s lips.“I’ve missed you.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Aaron awoke slowly, feeling incredibly groggy. “I’m sorry.” He blinked his eyes open, focusing on Robert, now dressed, sitting on a chair and looking at him.“Sorry for what?” Aaron asked. Aaron rolled over onto his back, then wished he hadn’t, hissing at the brief flash of pain. He could feel the scratches Robert had left on his back and was pretty sure that he had a bruise on his right shoulder forming from Robert’s mouth. Every muscle in his body ached, and Robert had touched him everywhere.“That got a bit… heated earlier.”“Don’t apologise,” Aaron said with a slight smile. “I love feeling you like this.”“I hurt you,” Robert said softly.“Not much,” Aaron said. “Come here.” Robert did and Aaron kissed him softly, a lingering kind of kiss. “Hi,” Aaron whispered making Robert smile.“What do you want?” Robert asked. “Bath? Massage? Breakfast.”“Breakfast,” Aaron said fervently. Food sounded wonderful. “Or is it more like lunch?”“Okay, lunch then,” Robert said. “Room service or do you want to go out?”“Why am I making all the decisions?” Aaron asked, narrowing his eyes at Robert.“Because you flew three and a half thousand miles to be with me,” Robert said. “And I have limited time before I’ve got to be back at work.”“You paid for the ticket,” Aaron said, though he was smiling. Robert just waited. “Room service,” Aaron said. “And ideally, you back in bed.” Robert smiled again, dialling through to the front desk, ordering two meals. Aaron didn’t pay much attention, slipping into a dozing state.He awoke again when he could smell lunch. “Oh, great, I’m starving,” Aaron said, almost falling on his burger and chips, ignoring the fact he wasn’t dressed and was still in bed.“What do you want to do today?” Robert asked when their plates were empty.“Do you have to be anywhere, or is it seriously a free day?” Aaron asked.“I’m all yours.”“If only that were true,” Aaron said briefly, thinking of the girls at the airport. “Sorry. I’m not blaming you, I know it’s your job.”“I can’t help the journalists that report on me.”“I know,” Aaron said. “I was being… me. Anyway… I’ve always wanted to go up the Empire State Building.” Aaron suggested it almost shyly and Robert found him even more endearing. “It’s on my bucket list, I know it’s a tourist trap, but…”“I said whatever you wanted,” Robert said with a smile. “But I think you need to get dressed first, as much as I enjoy you naked in my bed.” Aaron smiled at him. It felt so good to have him back. “This is stupid, we should have just caught the subway,” Aaron cursed, their car stuck in traffic. He wasn’t exactly happy about having a driver either.“I’m trying to keep people from paying attention to me for as long as I can,” Robert said. “You want camera phone’s pointed at you, go ahead.”“Is it worse here?” Aaron asked. “Than what it was like at home?”“Yeah,” Robert said briefly. “I’m on a film set most days, so I’ve not been around it too much, but yeah, it is bad.”“Maybe this is a stupid idea,” Aaron said, shaking his head and starting to lose his nerve. He had realised it was a public place, but hadn’t really put that together with how everyone else would react to Robert’s presence. “I could go on my own.”“I’m not ashamed to be seen with my boyfriend,” Robert said firmly.“That’s not what this is, and you know it,” Aaron snapped.“Come on, I’ll be with you the whole time,” Robert said. “What could possibly happen?”“Mm,” Aaron almost grunted under his breath. “You been here before?“ “Once,” Robert said. “It was a PR photo shoot thing at four in the morning, I wasn’t there to enjoy the view.” Aaron nodded, accepting that. The car moved, suddenly free in traffic and within minutes they were outside the building. Robert squeezed Aaron’s hand tightly. The queue was large, going out the door, but one of the doormen recognised Robert and waved him inside. Aaron glared, but followed Robert’s lead, until they were standing in front of someone who was clearly the manager, or in charge.“Mr Sugden! You should have told us you were coming, we’d have cleared the deck.” Aaron stared at Robert, torn between amusement and annoyance. Though skipping the rather large queue was definitely an advantage to being here with Robert.“It wasn’t planned,” Robert said pleasantly, looking at Aaron who felt distinctly uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on him. Or at least, that’s how it felt. “Got room for us?”“Go on up, elevators at the end on your right. I’ll radio up, let them know you’re coming.”“Thank you,” Robert said, he gripped Aaron’s hand and led him to the lift, ignoring the queue of tourists who were obviously talking about them. They got the lift to themselves and one staff member, and when they were alone, Aaron sighed.“Do you always get away with not paying and queue jumping?” Aaron watching the floor numbers quickly flicking past.“Half the time,” Robert said. “It’s not worth insisting, I don’t want to cause a scene.”“I hate this,” Aaron said.“They’ll get bored of you.”“They haven’t got bored of you yet,” Aaron pointed out.“Well, I am the good looking one out of the two of us,” Robert teased, making Aaron roll his eyes. But it did relax him marginally.Once they were at the top, the view did distract Aaron from his nervousness at being the centre of attention. Because the view was incredible. “Have we found something that shuts you up?” Robert teased, earning a glare. They ignored everyone else quite successfully, Robert wrapping his arms around Aaron, so Aaron’s back was to his chest as they both looked over the city.It was comfortable and they weren’t gathering too much attention, beyond a general hubbub of noise which Robert had become used to over the years. After a few minutes, Robert felt Aaron fully relax in his arms, and felt pleased. He hated the nervousness and the tension Aaron usually carried, especially in unusual situations. And being with Robert in public was about as unusual a situation as life got. If Robert was a better man, he’d get shot of Aaron and let him live his normal life. But he was too selfish, and he wanted Aaron with him too much.“Worth flying over for?” Robert asked.“It’s all right,” Aaron grumbled.“I meant me, not the view,” Robert said, pinching his side gently, teasing him.“Nah, you were just my free ticket here,” Aaron said with a grin. It was a mark of the strength of their relationship that Robert knew without any doubt that he was joking. He kissed Aaron very briefly, as they were in public, and continued to hold him, looking over the city. For one of the first times in his life, Robert felt content. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “When I said let me know when you landed, I meant by the phone, not by your face being plastered all over the internet!” Chas shrieked down the phone.“Mum, it’s three o’clock in the morning over here,” Aaron whined as he collapsed back against the pillows.“I don’t care!”“I’m fine, I’m safe and I’m tired. So I’m hanging up now. Love you.” Aaron put the phone down briefly and Robert looked at him before unplugging it to Aaron’s nod. “What the hell were the reception desk doing, sending that phone call through at this time of night?” Aaron asked, curling into Robert’s body.“I bet Chas was persuasive,” Robert agreed. “She must have been, usually no one gets through. You don’t mind? About the photos I mean.”“No, I don’t mind,” Aaron said. They’d both been well aware that people were taking photos of them while they were out in the city that day. After the Empire State building Aaron wanted to see the statue of liberty. And Robert agreed, mainly because he’d get to mock Aaron for being a typical tourist for a very long time to come. After that they’d had a few drinks and dinner, then back to the hotel. They knew that the photos random strangers had snapped of them had been sold and certain online sites had published them. Robert had looked through them and one or two he’d have actually liked in his own possession. He and Aaron looked good together. He was glad Aaron was... well, if not comfortable with the attention, at least getting used to it.The phone call had disturbed their sleep and neither could drift off again so Aaron curled up against Robert. And Robert started to feel uncomfortable, because he was hiding something.“What?” Aaron asked. “You’re way too tense for this time of day.”“I need to tell you something,” Robert said. Aaron pulled back so he could look at his face. “Which you’re not going to like, but if I were you I think I’d want to know.”“You’re worrying me now,” Aaron said. “What is it?”“It’s about your dad,” Robert said. Aaron froze, and Robert could feel the glare coming from him.“I told you to stop looking into him,” Aaron said.“I know. I did. I have,” Robert said. Aaron scoffed, moving away and switching the lamp on. It took a few seconds for both of their eyes to adjust to the light. “It was something I found out before you told me to stop.”“Which if you’d have asked me first, I’d have told you I don’t want to know. He’s away from me, that’s all I care about,” Aaron said harshly. “Why’re you pushing this?!”“Because there’s a time limit on it,” Robert snapped. He was only looking out for Aaron and he wished he could have got a bit of bloody gratitude instead of a lecture. “He has cancer.” Those words stopped whatever it was Aaron was going to say.“You’re sure?” he asked after a few moments. Robert nodded. “W… what kind of cancer?”“Liver. It’s advanced and…”“Right,” Aaron said. “Is he going to live?”“Not without a transplant,” Robert said. “It’s er… he’s not got long. And even if you hate me for looking up on him, if you wanted to say something to him, you don’t have a lot of time.”“I don’t,” Aaron said. “And I don’t want him mentioned again between us. It’s over, it’s gone. I don’t want to relive it, Robert.”“Okay,” Robert said. They shifted in bed, Aaron finding a comfortable spot in Robert’s embrace after a few minutes. “I had to tell you. If I could speak to my dad once more, I know I would. We didn’t get on, and I know it’s not the same, but if you wanted that chance…”“I know,” Aaron said, cutting him off. “I get it, I’m not mad. But it isn’t a subject I find easy to talk about.”“Okay. I understand.” Robert leaned across to switch the light off before settling back against each other.“Love you.”“Mm,” Aaron said. “I suppose I do too, otherwise why would I put up with you?” Robert smiled into Aaron’s hair. “No, this is ridiculous!” Aaron could hear Robert’s voice, sounding more pissed off than Aaron could remember. “You said I…” Another pause and Aaron sat up, watching Robert pace back and forth, on his phone. Shirtless too, so at least Aaron had a good view. “I was meant to have the entire weekend off. I’m not supposed to be on set until Tuesday, I had plans and…” Robert closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, Robert could see it. “Fine. Goodbye.” Robert dropped the phone onto the table and sighed.“You’ve gotta go to work,” Aaron said, trying to avoid being disappointed. Unsuccessfully.“I’ve got no choice,” Robert said. “Damn.”“It’s fine,” Aaron said. “Sure I can entertain myself for the day.”“It won’t be all day, it’s three hours tops. Why don’t you come with me?” Robert suggested. “Want to see a film set?”“I’ll just get in the way,” Aaron said. “Sure you don’t want me hanging around.”“Course I do,” Robert said. Then added lightly, “You could watch me get shot several times, flailing around on the ground in agony?”“You die in this film?” Aaron asked, surprised.“Yeah,” Robert said, offhand. “Painfully. And anyway, I want to be around you as much as I can before you fly back home." Aaron was tempted, he didn't really want to spend time away from Robert either. "Want to come?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It hadn’t taken Aaron much persuasion in the end. Once he’d got onto the set, people pretty much ignored him. And he hadn’t been ignored in a room full of people ever since he and Robert went public, so that felt so good. To be inconspicuous again. It took a while, but eventually Robert came onto set, now dressed in a suit and ready to film. He wore a suit that fit him perfectly, which had obviously been made to measure, and Aaron tried not to let it affect him as he watched Robert on the monitor. He looked incredibly good, even with the short hair and Aaron bit down on his bottom lip. He’s yours. The thought was quite a startling one. This man who everyone was fawning over was actually his. God, that sounded so unreal, even in his head. Aaron could see the switch, when Robert turned himself off, trying to slip into character.It took a while for them to actually start filming, and Robert had been bragging. It wasn’t a death scene he was watching, but a conversation with another character in an office. Aaron couldn’t actually follow what was going on in the scene, because he didn’t know the plot of the film. The first take was deemed no good and they redid it twice more. Aaron didn’t mind because seeing Robert in his element felt so good and for the first time, Aaron actually admitted to himself that Robert was a good actor. Probably should watch more of his films, actually. Before meeting Robert, he’d not really had any interest, and after they’d got together, Aaron preferred the real thing, the man with no mask. Maybe when he got back home, watching Robert’s previous films would distract him from the loneliness. Yeah, right, Aaron told himself. Once he got back home, Robert had another three weeks here. Then he’d be home, thank God. Until the next one, a nagging voice told him. Or the next one, or the one after. He’s too good for you. He should be with someone like Kat, not the local mechanic in a tiny English village no one had ever heard of.“Well?” Aaron shook himself out of his reverie to see Robert looking at him expectantly. “What’d you think?”“Why does my opinion matter?” Aaron asked.“Because you matter,” Robert said simply. Aaron felt himself go warm, realising Robert meant it.“I like the suit,” Aaron said. “Not so sure on the makeup though.” Robert laughed.“Let me get changed and cleaned up, We’ll get out of here.”“That’s it?”“For today,” Robert agreed. “They’re doing some stuff with stunt doubles, they don’t need me.” Robert kissed him softly, and Aaron let him in spite of all the bustle, people coming and going. “I’ll be back in five minutes. Ten tops.” Aaron waited, and it didn’t take long for Robert to reappear, looking more like his usual self. “You look disappointed.”“I love how you look in a suit,” Aaron whispered, eyes glinting.“This feels distinctly unfair,” Robert countered. “I’ve not seen you in a suit yet. Bet you fill that out nicely. Bet I could peel every layer off your body very slowly.” Aaron let out a sigh, trying not to show how Robert’s lower voice effected him.“Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”“Or I take you out somewhere that you have to wear one,” Robert countered.“We both know I wouldn’t be wearing it for long,” Aaron teased. “Ready to get out of here?” Robert nodded. The time they had together in New York passed far too quickly, and soon Aaron was scheduled to fly back. “You don’t have to go,” Robert reminded him in bed the night before after a rather enthusiastic round of sex. “You could stay with me, your job… you don’t actually need it.”“Yes, I do,” Aaron said. “At a certain point, you’re going to realise I’m more trouble than I’m worth. I need something to fall back on. I can’t rely on you for everything, because when you leave me, I can’t be left with nothing.”“Maybe I like you relying on me,” Robert said. “Maybe I like taking care of you. I know you don’t ask for it”“This will end, Robert,” Aaron said. “You know it will.”“No, I don’t know it,” Robert said. “I love you, screw what the rest of the world think.”“You’ve seen it then?” Aaron pressed after a moment of silence.“Yeah,” Robert said. He had. The gold digger articles had started appearing, only online and mostly on American sites. But they were there. Which was hypocritical, because if Robert had wanted to wine and dine a new woman, there wouldn’t be this backlash. It would almost be expected, but it seemed to make a difference, with Aaron being a man. A lot of them had published photos of them all over the city, seeing the sites, with comments such as “first romantic holiday with the new boyfriend” and much less flattering ones that Aaron didn’t want to focus on for too long. It was enough to know that Robert had seen the articles, and hadn’t mentioned it. “I thought they’d have got over it, over me by now,” Aaron said.“They won’t,” Robert replied. “Not until they’ve got an interview. Like it or not, you’re interesting.”“Why?”“Well, if nothing else, you’re the only person I’ve been serious about in quite some time,” Robert said, kissing his hair. “And, I hate it, but the fact you’re a man makes you more interesting to the media.” Aaron scoffed. “We could do an interview.”“I told you, I don’t want to,” Aaron said.“No, but they aren’t stopping,” Robert said. “Once I get home, we could give Caroline a call, a journalist I’m friendly with, she’d write it… well, we could remove anything we didn’t like.”“My problem is I’m not that interesting,” Aaron said, uncomfortably. “What would I say?”“Her job’d be to ask the questions, don’t worry,” Robert said. Aaron didn’t look convinced. “Just think about it. After it‘d been released, you’d be with me, my boyfriend, the man I'm living with and the intense press would slow down. It’d be accepted, unless you did something outrageously scandalous."Hang on," Aaron said. "Living with?""I..." Robert looked a little nervous now. "I was hoping, when we both get back to the village that you'd move in with me. Permanently. Properly. I want you with me all the time.""Seriously?" Aaron asked. He hadn't expected that."Time without you is pretty much wasted," Robert said. "Come on, you were there all the time anyway, it wouldn't be that much of a change.""Okay.""Really?" Robert looked shocked and Aaron laughed."You're right, I am there all the time," Aaron said. "And if you'd like me there, then yes. Course I'll move in.""Aaron, that means..." Robert really looked like it did mean everything to him. "I love you. I thought I'd have to use all my charms to talk you into it."Aaron rolled his eyes, then made Robert groan by rolling his hips.“I’m not saying yes, about the interview I mean, but I will think about it,” Aaron said. He moved quickly, straddling Roberts hips and he had a glint in his eye, meaning he wanted one thing. “Now, I’m leaving in… three hours. Got another round in you?” Robert grinned and leaned up for a deep kiss. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Aaron, love, think about it,” Chas urged, watching as Aaron zipped his suitcase up.“I have. I’ve thought of nothing else,” Aaron said. “Why’ve you got a problem with Robert? What’s he actually done that’s so wrong?”“Aaron…”“Seriously,” Aaron said, stopping and staring at his mother. “He treats me well, I love him, and it’s not why I’m with him, but he’s rich as well. Why don’t you like him?”“Katie said…”“No one made Katie take her knickers off for him,” Aaron said bluntly. “He was a teenager then. Ever think people can grow up? I‘d hate it if some of the stuff I did was held against me for the rest of my life.” Chas glared, but said nothing. “Anyway, it’s too late. I love him. I don’t… I never thought I’d feel like this.” Aaron said the last words quietly, but it doesn’t make them less true. He thought his feelings for Robert would have burnt out by now, or become less maybe. The opposite was true, even when he wasn’t physically present.“What about when he leaves?” Chas said. “What do you do then?”“He isn’t going to leave me,” Aaron said.“Of course he is,” Chas said dismissively. “He’s not even in the country right now.”“Mum, stop it,” Aaron said. “I’m moving up there, because I want to be with him. That’s it. And if you’re so convinced it’ll fall apart, why don’t you support me? Because if it does, I think I’m going to need you if it all goes wrong.”“Come here.” Chas pulled him into a tight hug and Aaron let her.“I’m not dying, I’m moving up the road. I’ll be in for a pint most nights anyway.” They let go and Chas nodded.“Take care of yourself.”“Yeah, I will,” Aaron said. He took his case to his car, the last load to be brought up to Home Farm, and he drove the short journey. Robert came home in two days, and they’d agreed that he’d be moved in by that point, neither wanting to waste time after he landed in the UK.Aaron parked his car in the garage, next to Robert’s Porsche, that for some reason he still had. After the sponsorship thing, Aaron had expected him to get rid of it, but after all, they had both been quite busy lately. Aaron took the last couple of bags of his possessions into the house before locking the garage, smiling at his latest acquisition, parked outside. It was a pile of old rusted metal really, a car that didn’t even run. Aaron had bought it as a project to work on, and if one day he actually got the engine functioning, he’d consider that a major success. Adam had been complaining that he never spent any time with his best mate lately, so they’d gone out for the day, ending up going to a car sale. Which had actually turned into more of a junk sale, but Aaron had liked the look of this car, and it had been a while since he’d actually bought anything for himself. Robert being rich was all well and good, but Aaron didn’t spend money on anything any more. So much of his life was wrapped up in Robert, and had been ever since they met, that doing something on his own, for himself felt good.Of course, there was no space in the garage with two functional cars there, so the tin pot car was just sat outside it, gathering rust. At least no one would want to steal it Aaron thought to himself. He went inside the house and unpacked his things, wishing for Robert to be with him. Soon. Two nights later Robert text him that he’d landed in Manchester, and Aaron bit his bottom lip. He’d been considering something that Robert had mentioned while they’d been in New York together. But then it felt stupid, because suits were for weddings or funerals, and nothing else in his experience. Or court, but that was a whole other issue. But Robert had said he wanted to see Aaron in a suit. Had he just been being flippant? Aaron didn’t think so, because he knew what Robert in a perfectly fitting suit did to him. As in, make him want to tear Robert’s clothes off. But it was different the other way around, wasn’t it? Because there was nothing special about Aaron, was there? If Robert didn’t think that, you wouldn’t still be around, Aaron thought. He knew Robert would have no problem ditching him and moving on, and there was no indication of that happening yet.So Aaron dressed in his suit, dark trousers, black jacket and white shirt, wanting to surprise Robert when he came home. As he had no intention of going anywhere other than the bedroom, he left the tie off. No need to overdo it completely. If it had even half the effect on Robert that Aaron felt when he looked at his boyfriend, dressed up like this, it would be worth it.Aaron looked at himself in the mirror once more, wondering if he was being stupid, when there was a knock on the door. The anticipation and excitement of seeing Robert after so long didn’t make him stop and think that Robert had keys, and he wouldn’t be knocking on his own house. Instead Aaron opened the door, the smile freezing on his face. It was someone he never wanted to see again. Gordon. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The fear that Aaron thought he’d never feel again was instantaneous. Fear, revulsion, anger, hate, it was all there, bubbling under the surface as Gordon pushed his way into the house.“Get out!” Aaron almost spat at him.“Not until I’ve spoken to you.”“I’ll call the police,” Aaron said, patting his pockets for his phone. It wasn’t there, because he’d got changed for Robert. It was still in his jeans. “They’ll arrest you, you’re breaking the terms of the restraining order.”“You can’t threaten a dying man with prison,” Gordon said. “Five minutes and I’ll go.”“What do you want?” Aaron said, backing up a step. He had little fear that Gordon could hurt him physically, he didn’t look well at all now that Aaron stopped to look. But that didn’t stop Aaron feeling irrationally afraid of this man who had caused him so much hurt in the past.“I need money,” Gordon said quickly.“I don’t have money,” Aaron said.“You live here!” Gordon scowled, looking around the house pointedly.“I don’t have access to Robert’s bank accounts, you can’t ask me for money I haven’t got,” Aaron snapped.“Boyfriend doesn’t trust you?” Gordon sneered.“It’s not my money,” Aaron countered back. “I don’t need to spend it. Anyway, why do you need money? Must be desperate for you to come here.”“I need a liver transplant, and I’m not going to make it to the top of the list before I peg it,” Gordon said. “I need money to get around that. Pay enough, you can get everything you'd want.”“Buy a liver?” Aaron asked in complete disbelief. “You can’t buy an organ. And you know something, even if I had that kind of cash, why should I spend a penny of it on you?”“I’m your father.”“You’re my rapist,” Aaron said firmly, pleased with the way Gordon flinched at his bluntness. “Leave.”“Ask Robert for the money.”“No,” Aaron said. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not screwing him for a big pay day. I wouldn’t ask for that kind of money for myself, let alone you.”“Aaron, you remember…”“What you’re capable of?” Aaron interrupted. “Yeah. I know exactly what you’re capable of. My memory works just fine, thanks.”“You couldn’t have hated it that much,” Gordon said with a smirk that haunted Aaron’s nightmares. “Going gay? Must have liked it even then.” Aaron’s fist was itching to hit him, but it wouldn’t do any good at all, and could land himself in a lot of trouble. He was trying to hold onto that rational thought, when something occurred to him.“How did you even get through the gate? I thought you’re meant to be dying, could hardly climb over it,” Aaron said. Honestly, Gordon didn’t look well.“I’ve been watching you for days. Eventually caught you typing in the number to the security fence. Pathetic, really.” Gordon smirked again, Aaron feeling a hatred and disgust that this man could have been watching him without Aaron so much as getting an inkling about it. Robert’s fuss about security and looking after him, and making sure Aaron was safe didn’t seem over the top at all, it now seemed like a bloody necessity.“Get out,” Aaron said. “Just leave, I’m busy, I’ve got things to do.”“You know he’ll get bored of you, right?” Gordon said. “Why would he stick around for a pathetic victim like you? You’re nothing, you’re useless, he’s a star, why would he bother? Probably alright for a bit of fun, but you’re deluded if you think it would ever be anything more than that.” Even after all this time, Aaron hated how well Gordon knew him. He knew exactly where to hit so it hurt the most.“Is it any wonder I’ve got low self esteem when I grew up with you,” Aaron said, though the fight had gone out of him. Almost like he knew Gordon had won this round and he didn’t have it in him to keep going. “I’m not an open access to money. So leave. I couldn’t give you that kind of cash even if I wanted to.”Gordon took in a breath to speak, but they were interrupted by the door opening. “What’s that pile of rust doing outside the…” Robert tailed off, seeing Gordon there. Robert knew what he looked like from the private investigator he’d hired. “Get out of my house,” Robert said, voice changing instantly.“I want to talk to my son, pretty boy,” Gordon said. Robert looked at Aaron and saw him pale and panicking, breathing heavily. All his concern was for Aaron, but he knew he had to get this man out of the house before he could even begin to comfort Aaron.“Mark, I may need a witness,” he called to the open door. A man who was obviously Robert’s driver appeared with a suitcase, hovering there.“I think the restraining order means he doesn’t want to talk to you,” Robert said to Gordon. “And you’re on private property, so leave.”“No,” Gordon said, smirking at Robert. “Not until I get my money.” Oh, so that’s what this is, Robert thought. Realised Aaron’s boyfriend’s rich and want to get as much out of his son as possible. He didn’t even deserve to be called a father, what a pathetic waste of space.“Aaron, do you want to give him money?” Robert asked levelly.“No, are you insane?” Aaron asked.“There’s your answer,” Robert said to Gordon.“I’m not leaving until…”“We have three options,” Robert interrupted, with every appearance of calm. “You leave. I call the police. Or I break your jaw with my fist. I know which choice I prefer.” Gordon grumbled, but he did retreat towards the door. “Mark, make sure he leaves my property,” Robert added seriously to his driver. He nodded and they left, leaving Robert with Aaron, who’d crumpled to the floor.“It’s all right,” Robert soothed, crouching down next to him. “You’re safe, I promise.”“C… can’t breathe…” Aaron forced out. Robert looked at him and realised he wasn’t being dramatic, he was struggling to breathe. Robert wrapped an arm around him as Aaron panted, wondering what on earth to do. It felt like endless minutes but it was probably only seconds until Robert decided to call Chas. She might know how to handle this, and Robert hadn’t been aware that Aaron had a history of panic attacks. And certainly not like this, he had panicked with all the press when their relationship went public but not to the point the couldn’t breathe. Robert thought all this while he was fumbling with his phone, dialling Chas’s number.“What is it, it’s late,” she answered.“Chas, it’s Robert,” he said quickly, watching Aaron‘s face go pale, a hand to his chest, Robert ineffectually rubbing his back.“Oh?”“I think Aaron’s having some kind of panic attack and I don’t know what to do, I don’t know… it’s like he can’t breathe right and…. Do I call an ambulance?” Aaron shook his head, eyes wide at the suggestion.“Okay,” Chas said. “Er… usually touching his face and hair helps, you’ve got to get him to calm down. I’m on my way up there.”“Chas?”“He’ll be okay,” she said, though who she was trying to convince Robert didn’t know. “Just try to calm him and I’m on my way.” The phone went dead and Robert sat with Aaron on the floor in his hallway, stroking his hair. It seemed to help a very little bit. Within a couple of minutes Aaron’s breathing was coming easier, chest not heaving quite so much.“You’re okay, you’re safe,” Robert said soothingly. “I’m here, no one can hurt you.” He kept muttering these things for God knows how long. Mark came back and nodded at him, letting Robert know Gordon had gone. Robert was desperate to call the police, but knew he’d have to check with Aaron first.By the time Chas showed up, Aaron had calmed down. He was quiet, his head in Robert’s lap, enjoying Robert's fingers through his hair. When Aaron saw his mum, he jumped up, embarrassed at having been caught like that and the three of them silently went through to the kitchen.“I’m okay,” Aaron said to the room at large as Robert made tea. “I had a bad thing, I’m fine now.”“Bad thing like what?” Chas asked.“Gordon showed up,” Robert said darkly when Aaron seemed reluctant to give the information.“Then call the police!” Chas said to Aaron, who flinched at her loud voice.“Absolutely,” Robert agreed. Aaron glared between the two of them, like they were ganging up on him.“I don’t want any fuss,” Aaron said. “It’s fine, he’s gone, it’s over.”“How many times has he seen you?” Robert asked, giving Aaron his tea. “I haven’t been here in so long, was this the first time he’s talked to you?”“Yes,” Aaron said honestly. Robert and Chas shared a look that made it clear they didn’t believe him. “It was!” he snapped, wrapping his hands around his warm mug.“Apparently he’d been watching the house for a few days.” As soon as the words left Aaron’s mouth, he wished they hadn’t.“He what?!” Chas snapped at the same time Robert stared at him. “He’s been watching the house? Right that’s it.” Robert picked up his phone.“Robert, I told you no police!” Aaron said.“I’m not calling the police,” Robert said offhand, before turning his attention back to the call. “Charlie. Hi, yeah I’m back in the country. I need extra security at my place. No, not London, my house in Yorkshire. As soon as possible.” Aaron and Chas watched him as he quickly arranged for two security guards to come to keep watch on the house. When Robert had hung up, Aaron almost twitched, uncomfortable.“Robert, that’s going to cost a fortune, it’s not worth it, he’s gone, it’s fine, I’m fine.”Robert looked at Aaron and could tell he was shaken up, even if Aaron didn’t want to admit it. Robert sat opposite Aaron, close enough that they could touch, though he made no move to. “Aaron, it is worth it. The only thing that matters to me is that you’re safe. I can’t cope with the thought that he might turn up at any given moment, God knows how you can. And you are worth it. I don’t care how much money it costs, it would never be too much as long as you are safe. Okay?”“Rob…” Aaron spoke almost on a sob, and it was as if Chas wasn’t even in the room, neither man spared her a second of attention.“Did he touch you?” Robert asked quietly.“What, you think I can’t handle myself against a cancer patient?”“That doesn’t answer my question,” Robert said, not letting him off the hook. “Did he touch you?”“No.”“Aaron…”“No, he didn’t,” Aaron said surer this time.“Sure?”“I think I’d remember something like that,” Aaron said, lips twitching. “Welcome home, I guess.” Robert forced a smile, and did allow himself to touch Aaron, both hands cradling his head gently. Aaron relaxed into his touch, closing his eyes. Robert’s phone ringing was what broke the moment.“I have to… it’ll be about the new security arrangements.” Aaron nodded and they broke apart. “Go and have a bath, calm down. Okay?”“Robert…”“Then you can explain to me why I’ve got a collection of rust sitting in my driveway,” Robert added, eyes sparkling. Aaron rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue, leaving the room and pausing to give his mum a hug on the way out. Once he’d gone, that left Robert and Chas alone. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Robert turned to his own abandoned cup of tea, trying to focus on drinking it when he realised his hands were shaking and he couldn’t stop it. Chas could see it too and reached for his hands, putting the hot drink down. “Rob, it’s okay,” she said quietly. To his memory, that’s the first time she’s ever used his name, when it’s not filled with disdain or criticism.“I… God, I hate seeing him hurt like this,” Robert said.“You care about him don’t you?” Chas asked.“No, I’m in love with him,” Robert corrected her quietly. “I can’t ever imagine my life without him in it.” Robert hadn’t meant to say that, hadn’t even verbalised it to himself yet, but he knew it was true. He needed Aaron in his life. “What did you think? That I was just toying with him?”“Yes,” Chas said. “That’s exactly what I thought. You saw someone you wanted and no one says no to you, do they?”“Aaron would,” Robert said with a slight smile. “He’d tell me no if he wanted to.”“Yes,” Chas said, smiling slightly. “I think he would.”“He’s so… wonderfully normal. He never treated me like I was special because I’m famous,” Robert said. “I do love him, I don’t want you to doubt that.”“Like you care what I think,” Chas said.“Not particularly,” Robert said. “But Aaron does, whether he admits it or not.”“He can’t keep working at the garage,” Chas said quietly, and it’s clear from her face that she’d been thinking this for a while. “You’re earning stupid money and he’s on minimum wage down there? If you mean it, and you want it to work with him.” Robert smiled, recognising that Chas was being sincere, thinking that their relationship could work long term. The first time she seemed to actually believe in him.“I know,” Robert said, exasperated. “But it’s a sensitive subject. I know he doesn’t need the job, but he won’t hear of it. He acts like it’s me… trying to take away his independence, or smother him, or buy him. Which it isn’t. We could have a really good life together if neither of us ever worked again.”“He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Chas said. “He won’t be able to believe you’re serious about him, because he doesn’t see himself as worth it.”“I know that,” Robert said. “I can’t do anything about that, though. Except give him my time.”“Did you mean what you said?” Chas asked. Robert frowned at her. “You can’t imagine your life without him.”“Yes, I do mean it,” Robert said. “If I didn’t think it’d make him run a mile, I’d marry him tomorrow.” Chas scoffed. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone, Chas. I know you don’t like me, but…”“Why do you think I don’t like you?” Chas asked. Robert stared at her. “All right,” she relented. “No, I don’t much like you. But I like how much you care for him. Aaron needs to be… I don’t know, looked after a little bit. Though he’d deny that.” Robert smiled. “I know he would.” Chas suddenly looked uncomfortable, her eyes starting to look for the door. “Thanks,” Robert said. “For coming, I mean… I didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t breathing.”“It’s okay,” Chas said quietly. “What did Gordon actually want?”“Oh. Money.” Robert gave a brief recap of the conversation, surprised when Chas’s face lit up.“Cancer? He has cancer?”“Yeah,” Robert said. "Not going to make it through the year without a transplant."“Oh, that’s such a shame!” she said with a broad grin. Robert smiled slightly, because in this instance, he enjoyed fate getting its way, even if the justice system didn’t.“The thought of Aaron having to go through all that makes me feel sick,” Robert said quietly. “I don’t know how he can cope with it and…”“Yes,” Chas said. “I feel the same way too.”“How could someone hurt a child like that?” Robert asked, his voice wavering. “His own son, how could it happen? How…”“Hey…” Chas said, and to both of their surprise, Chas pulled him into a hug. Robert couldn’t help it, he completely broke down. It had been a long time, probably fifteen years or more since he’d been held like this, as if by a parent. Robert couldn’t help the tears that swam in front of his eyes, feeling this kind of comfort.“Sorry,” Robert said when he’d had the time to feel suitably embarrassed for falling apart on Chas’s shoulder, a woman who up until very recently had hated him. “God, you must think I’m a mess.” He scrubbed his eyes harshly, in a movement that was more reminiscent of Aaron than it was himself. “Thanks.”“Just… take care of him,” Chas said, forcing a smile. “And I’m going home to sleep. Make sure he sleeps too.” Robert nodded in agreement before locking the door behind Chas. He went upstairs, to find Aaron wrapped in a towel, having just got out of the bath. “How are you?”“Fine,” Aaron said. “You and mum kill each other yet?”“No, we seem… to have found some common ground,” Robert said. Aaron frowned.“That doesn’t sound like either of you,” Aaron said, making Robert smile slightly. “How are you really?” Robert asked.“Okay,” Aaron said seriously. “It was just a shock to see him, but… I am okay.”“Did he threaten you?”“No,” Aaron said. “Just his usual disgusting self. And I‘d like to forget, so…”“We’re not having sex,” Robert said bluntly. He knew he couldn’t, after everything that had happened. It would be Aaron using him, using them as a distraction technique.“How about you hold me instead?” Aaron said. Robert agreed. That he could do. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Ten days later. Robert let Caroline into the house quietly, aware that it was early, and waking Aaron up needlessly wasn’t going to put him in a better mood. “Casual, right?” he warned as she went into the kitchen, eyeing everything up.“Of course,” she said with a sweet smile. “You know everyone’s waiting to read this interview.”“Be kind,” Robert said. “He’s not used to it and he’s quite… shy with people he doesn’t know.”“Okay,” she said. Robert glared at her. “I mean it. Look, you’re getting final say on the copy anyway.”“Yes,” Robert said. “It’s the only way he’d agree to it. Coffee?”“Please.” Aaron had reluctantly agreed to this interview and Robert had suggested having it at Home Farm, because at least that way it was somewhere he was comfortable. Plus they had the added advantage of the option of kicking the journalist out if she got too nosey. Or if Aaron really couldn’t cope with it, which Robert knew would be a realistic possibility.“Thanks,” Caroline said, taking her drink. “Why buy this place then?”“Started already?” Robert asked pleasantly.“Well, I daresay you’re going to stop me from printing all the really interesting bits,” Caroline said. “So I’ve got to make do with what I’ve got, haven’t I?” Robert rolled his eyes at her, an Aaron habit he'd picked up on. “Who’s the baby?” Robert followed her eye line, then smiled. The ultrasound picture pinned to the fridge, that was Vic‘s. She was getting big now, near her time and she was very tired of being pregnant.“My sister’s pregnant,” Robert said. “She put that there.”“Oh, going to be an uncle? Ever thought about children yourself?” Robert glared at her. “Warning you now, you float that idea past Aaron and he’ll clam up.”“You’re no fun now you’re taken,” Caroline said. “What happened to that carefree teasing flirty Robert I met all those years ago?”“He grew up,” Robert said. “He met Aaron.”“You love him?”“Yes, I do,” Robert said.“Not after your money?”“Caroline…”“Just asking.”“You’ve known me for years, you think I’d be suckered in by a gorgeous man if it was just for my money?”“No,” Caroline said fairly. “No, I don’t. Good coffee.” Robert nodded, both of them hearing Aaron come down the stairs.“I don’t like waking up alone,” Aaron whispered as he came into the kitchen, only having eyes for his boyfriend and kissed him gently. Robert let him for a few seconds before putting his fingers to Aaron’s lips to stop him.“We’ve got company.” Aaron looked, then visible stiffened.“Oh. Forgot that’s today,” he said, turning away and reaching for the coffee.“Hello Aaron, I’m Caroline,” she said, smiling sweetly.“Good for you,” Aaron grumbled under his breath.“You said you’d be nice,” Robert reminded him.“I haven’t eaten,” Aaron said, like that was an explanation. Which, with him it usually was. Robert moved around in the kitchen, grabbing the bread and sticking it in the toaster. Aaron, nearer the fridge, grabbed the bacon and passed it to Rob, adding milk to his own coffee. It was a well worn morning routine, both of them fitting easily in the same space. Robert seemed at ease, but Aaron was acutely aware of the third presence there.“You don’t say much, do you?” Caroline said as the bacon was frying.“If you’re looking for someone who likes the sound of his own voice, I think Robert fits that pretty well,” Aaron said.“Oi!” Robert said, laughing at Aaron. Aaron smiled into Robert’s neck, pressing a brief kiss there. It had relaxed him very slightly, and five minutes later the food did an even better job.“Aaron, what first attracted you to Robert?” Caroline asked. Aaron narrowed his eyes, debating what to say. “Liked what you saw in his films?”“No,” Aaron said honestly. “I don’t watch him. I mean, I’m slowly working my way through them now,” he added, catching Robert’s eye. “Be a bit insulting not to, really.”“So, who made the first move?” Caroline pushed.“Er… started with a shouting match really, I seem to remember,” Robert said, casting his mind back. “Over a car.”“No, over your inflated ego,” Aaron said. “The fact you couldn’t buy me, remember?”“Still cost me five hundred quid, that did,” Robert said. Aaron frowned, not following. “You threw the money at me, it scattered everywhere and it rained that night. Never found the cash.”“You were distracted,” Aaron said.Robert’s eyes dipped to Aaron’s lips and stayed there in a way that was far too intimate for a third person to be here. “I was,” he agreed. Caroline broke the moment, by asking a question that Aaron didn’t really listen to, wanting Robert on his own right now.After a few minutes, they agreed to go outside, for Aaron to work on his “project” car, Robert knowing Aaron would relax more if they weren’t just talking about them, or their relationship. As long as he kept his hands occupied. It worked too, and Caroline was good at her job, trying to keep him talking with boring, easy questions. Robert was in the garage, but distracted on a phone call which (seemed to be) to Kat. He was animated enough anyway.“Are we going to hear wedding bells any time soon?” Caroline asked Aaron with a sly smile. Aaron’s hand slipped in the engine at the question.“Shit!” he hissed under his breath, being covered with a shower of oil. “Robert!” he shouted, needing an extra pair of hands. Robert hurried towards him and together they got the leaking engine under control.“Why didn’t you drain it first?!” Robert asked impatiently.“I thought I had!”“Not well!” Once it was under control Robert looked at Aaron and tried to stop laughing with difficulty. Aaron was covered in oil, splattered everywhere.“I’ll get you a towel and a clean shirt,” Robert said, retreating towards the house.“I am capable,” Aaron snapped.“You’re not coming into the house like that,” Robert said, looking at him. “There’d be oil everywhere and it’d never come out of the carpet.” Aaron silently admitted he had a point. Robert left the garage and Aaron had a moment of pure panic, being left alone with a journalist.“I don’t bite,” she said. “How are you? You seem tense.”“I get tense with strangers,” Aaron said. “Especially nosey ones.”“Then why did you agree to this interview in the first place?” Caroline asked.“For Robert,” Aaron said. “He’s been dealing with this mess and attention for a lot longer than I have. He knows what’s best.”“How do you feel about him?”“I love him,” Aaron said. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone. I just wish he didn’t come with all this,” Aaron said quietly. “Like you, having to be here. I want us to just… be. Exist together, not have every minor move we make under a microscope. Not have a running commentary on when we‘re going to get married, or if he‘s going to dump me. Yeah,” he added to Caroline’s stare. “I’ve seen the online polls.”“Aaron, I’ve known Robert a long time. He’s very private. I mean, he does all the publicity stuff, but before you, no one really got to the real him. The fact that he even let you stay in his house once is much different to everyone else. Never mind moving in with him. And he’s also being very aware of how this press attention effects you. He knows he’s changing your life, and he’s keeping you first in his priorities. Robert is not going to leave you. It‘d be more convenient for both of you if he did.”“Well, we never did easy,” Aaron said, smiling at her and feeling less insulted than he expected to. “I love him, but I can’t stop waiting for me to… wake up. Because in no reality did I ever really get him.”“Towel,” Robert said, coming back, throwing the item at him. Aaron dried himself off, stripping the ruined T shirt off. Caroline caught sight of his scars as he was cleaning himself up, and she looked at Robert. Robert shook his head, eyes wide. That was not a subject that was up for discussion. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The rest of the day went smoothly enough, and Caroline was picking up her handbag to leave when she looked at Robert. “Oh, I forgot to say congratulations.”“For what?” Robert asked.“You’re tipped…”“It’s not confirmed,” Robert interrupted. “It’s all wild speculation at this point.”“Tipped for what?” Aaron asked. Robert looked torn between being guilty and caught in a lie. “Robert…” he growled.“Right, I only didn’t tell you because nothings going to come of it. Nothing, it’s just hot air and fuss and nothing.”“Didn’t tell me what?” Aaron pushed.“Don’t make it a big deal of this,” Robert warned.“Robert…”“My agent called the other day,” Robert said. “It seems… I may be being nominated for an Oscar.”“What?”“It’s nothing, it won’t happen,” Robert said quickly. “Thanks for dropping me in it,” he added to Caroline.“Sorry,” she said, seeming it. “I thought you’d be shouting it from the rooftops by now.”“Not when you’re worried your boyfriends a flight risk,” Robert said. Caroline left, and Aaron went back into the kitchen. He was angry, Robert could see it from the tension he carried in his body.“I am not a flight risk and I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Aaron said angrily.“It doesn’t mean anything!” Robert said. “It’ll probably never happen anyway, I’ve created too many headlines this year.”“Because of me,” Aaron said dully.“Because the press need to get their own lives. I don’t regret a minute with you.”“No?”“Well, maybe the sex on the stairs wasn’t the best idea we’ve ever had, but apart from that…” Robert teased. Aaron’s eyes went light, but he was still worried, Robert could see it.“If I do have to go to this awards ceremony, I might finally get to see you in a suit,” Robert tried, in an attempt to lighten the mood.“Could try one on for you upstairs…” Aaron suggested, almost shyly.“Oh, don’t tempt me if you’re not going to follow through…” Robert said darkly.“Give me ten minutes,” Aaron said, biting down on his bottom lip, managing to smile at the same time. Robert kissed him deeply, sighing as Aaron left. Robert probably managed five minutes before he followed him up the stairs. Aaron looked damn good, the white shirt clinging to his body, the jacket fitting him perfectly. And that’s before Robert even let his gaze go lower to admire the trousers.“Oh, you like then?” Aaron asked, just a hint of nervousness there. But he felt encouraged by Robert’s obvious reaction, the way his eyes grazed Aaron‘s body.“Turn around,” Robert said. Aaron was about to argue that he wasn’t a performing monkey, when he saw the look of lust in Robert’s eye. He knew better than to break the moment, so he turned, enjoying Robert‘s groan when he saw exactly how perfect Aaron‘s arse looked in that.“You know you’re not going to be wearing that long, right?” Robert said, pulling Aaron into his arms and kissing him gently."Why's that then?" Aaron said with a smile. It took quite some time for their breathing to get back down to normal. That had been incredibly intense, and Aaron almost curled himself into Robert’s shoulder, coming down from the high. “All right?” Robert whispered.“Mm hmm,” Aaron moaned. “Probably should think about getting back to the garage soon.” Robert felt the last vestiges of satisfaction fade away from him, not sure if he had the rational side of him up and functioning enough to have this conversation. Ever since the “Gordon” incident, Aaron hadn’t been to work. He hadn’t really felt the need or the desire to go and Robert hadn’t pushed either. He knew that Chas had had a word with Cain, to explain Aaron being absent. What Robert didn’t know was whether Aaron had any intention of actually returning to a minimum wage job. He didn’t want Aaron to, but knew Aaron wouldn’t be happy, having everything paid for for him, out of Robert’s money. The fact that Robert had more money than he could ever reasonably spend seemed to be besides the point.“I don’t want you working there,” Robert said, trying for honesty.“Tell me why.” Aaron spoke with a calmness, rather than his usual tone of “I’m up for a fight” which is why Robert considered it so carefully.“Because you don’t need to,” Robert said. “What you make in a week, I don’t think I’d even notice that amount going out of my bank account.”Aaron snorted. “Try that again without sounding like an arrogant prick.”“Okay, because you’re my boyfriend, you don’t need to put up with being shouted at by Cain in a nine to five job. We could have a better life than that together. We could have more. I want more with you. I want everything with you.”It could have sounded trite and overly sentimental, but the soft look in Robert’s eyes told Aaron he meant every word. “You mean that, don’t you?”“Yes,” Robert said. “I will never get bored with you. I got bored with everyone before you, but I’m done. I don’t ever want anyone else. You’re it for me. All I ever want.”“Robert, what are you actually trying to tell me?” Aaron asked quietly, eyes darting around, almost in panic. Panic wasn’t the reaction Robert was looking for, and the disappointment was instant.“Nothing,” Robert said. “It doesn’t matter. I’m happy with you, that’s what counts.”“Robert…” Aaron said.“I’m not trying to tell you anything,” Robert repeated, firmer this time. He let his hand wander between Aaron’s thighs, looking for a way to distract him. But Aaron wasn’t having it, he forced some space between them, staring at Robert’s face. “Robert, I’m not going to assume you’re saying what I think you’re saying, so you’re actually going to have to say it,” Aaron said, almost tripping over his words.“You looked panicked,” Robert said sadly. “It’s fine. I’ll wait. I can be patient.”“Stop thinking you know what I’m going to say,” Aaron said. “Just tell me. Talk to me.”“All right then,” Robert said with a massive sigh, turning on his side and looking at Aaron. “I have never, ever felt like I belonged anywhere. I was the outcast with my family, always the disappointment. By the time I had any success at all, there were barely any parts of my family left to even have something I could call home. Aaron, I love you. I want to make a life with you, whatever that means, and whatever we‘ll face together. Will you marry me?”“Seriously, that’s where we are?” Aaron asked, though his face seemed definitely happy. Almost glowing, giving Robert some hope that it wasn’t a no. Then he remembered something, and Robert’s face went dark. “What?” Aaron asked, seeing the change come over him.“I don’t have a ring,” he said quietly, seeming almost embarrassed at the lack of it. “Kat’s bringing it for me tomorrow. This… I didn’t plan it like this.”“Why?”“You think if I went into a jewellers looking for an engagement ring, it wouldn’t be all over the internet in five seconds flat?” Robert said. Aaron nodded briefly in agreement. It would be, he knew that. “I planned to surprise you. I also didn’t plan on discussing this in bed after sex.”“This is insane,” Aaron told him, a carefree smile on his face, one Robert rarely saw. “We’ve only known each other a couple of months.”“A lot of months,” Robert corrected. “I love you. I don’t need to know anything else.”“Yes,” Aaron said, eyes gorgeously blue, sparkling with joy. “If you’re seriously asking me, then yes.”“Yeah?” Robert asked nervously.“Yeah.” Robert’s face filled with the kind of happiness Aaron had never seen there, whether on film or in person. He looked so content and blissful that Aaron suddenly felt almost giddy. He’d done that, he’d made Robert that happy. Just for saying one word. God, he felt so lucky. Robert kissed him, a gentle kiss full of promise and love, so much more tender than normal, lasting a long time. Aaron’s hands tangled in Robert’s hair, keeping him as close as physically possible.“Robert, it’s so soon,” Aaron said, suddenly getting a anxious feeling in his stomach. “Are you sure you’re not going to change your mind about me?”“Are you going to change your mind about me?” Robert countered.“No,” Aaron said surely. “No, I’m not.”“There’s your answer then.” Aaron couldn’t stop staring at him, looking at his freckles, his blond eyelashes. This man was so beautiful and belonged to him. This man wanted him for the rest of his life. The thought was incredible to Aaron.“We can never tell anyone this, you know that,” Aaron said.“People will notice.”“No, I mean… we can’t tell people you proposed to me in bed. I’d never live it down.”Robert laughed into his neck. “I love you,” Robert whispered. “Never change.”"I don't plan to," Aaron said. "You need some normal in your life.""Yes," Robert said seriously. "I do. And I need you." Aaron opened his thighs and Robert didn't need another invitation, smirking as he covered Aaron's body with his own. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “I hear congratulations are needed,” Kat said with a smile, as Aaron opened the front door. “By the way, that Steve’s really fit. He single?”“Er, Steve?” Aaron questioned, letting her in.“One of your security guys up at the gate,” Kat said, following Aaron through to the kitchen, where Robert was reading the paper. He gave Kat a wide smile.“You got them?” Robert asked eagerly.“Hi Kat, how are you?” she parroted. “I’m not your personal shopper you know.”“Be grateful I didn’t get Vic to do it,” Robert said.“Because a nine month pregnant woman is really unobtrusive in jewellers, isn’t she?” Aaron quipped back.“Right, rings,” Robert demanded holding his hand out.“Not even a coffee first?” Kat asked. “Honestly, what do you see in him, Aaron?”“Good in bed, I suppose,” Aaron said with a grin. Kat laughed and Robert looked offended. Kat dug around in her purse and found the small pair of ring boxes, giving them both to Robert. Aaron couldn’t help being curious, even if he pretended that it didn’t care, or it didn’t matter. The ring itself didn’t actually matter, but in the eighteen or so hours since Robert had actually proposed, Aaron couldn’t deny he wanted to wear something that was his, something that showed the world Robert belonged to him, and vice versa.Robert snapped the first box open, then looked at Aaron, suddenly nervous. “If you don’t like it, or you’d want to wear something else, I don’t mind. I’ve only seen pictures before, so if…”“Shut up,” Aaron said easily. “Unless this is you changing your mind…”“No,” Robert said firmly, stopping Aaron before he could go too far down that line. Robert took the ring out of the box and slid it onto Aaron’s finger. It fit, luckily and Robert breathed a sigh of relief. This was the first time he was seeing it in person, but it looked right on Aaron’s hand, and he was glad Kat had sent him so many pictures of the options.“Give me yours then,” Aaron said. Robert handed the box over, and Aaron quickly put the matching one on Robert’s finger. They held hands, staring at the new additions in the quiet. “They’re perfect,” Aaron said. Robert kissed him very softly, unable to articulate the emotion of this moment. “But you know what this means?” Aaron added.“What?”“We’ve got to tell my mum,” Aaron said. Robert grimaced and Aaron laughed, before kissing him, deeper this time. Their hands started wandering and the cool of the new metal bands on their fingers sent a thrill through both of them.“Why don’t you two get a room?” Kat said good naturedly. “You two are sickening, you know that? I’m not even going to be able to find a date to take with me to your wedding.”“Who says you’re invited?” Robert said, both men having forgotten temporarily that she was even present.“Look, why don’t the three of us go and have lunch at the pub,” Aaron suggested. “Talk my mum out of screaming the whole place down.”“Sounds good,” Robert said. It didn’t, but hiding their engagement from Chas didn’t exactly appeal either. How could Chas Dingle make him feel like a shy schoolboy?“Going to marry me whatever she says?” Robert asked.“I plan on it,” Aaron said. “Look at you, all nervous.”“We’ve only just found common ground,” Robert said. “I can’t think she’s going to take this particularly well.”“Do we hate your mother?” Kat asked bluntly.“No,” Aaron said with a smile. “But… she’s not that keen on Robert.”“Can’t really blame her, can you?” Kat said, sharing a conspiratorial glance with Aaron. Aaron grinned while Robert shook his head at them both ganging up on him. The three of them walked into the pub, seeing Chas behind the bar. She smiled widely at Aaron and instantly pulled him into a hug. “Can we have a word?” Robert asked. She looked at both men and nodded through to the back, while Kat let Ross Barton (of all people) buy her a drink. When they were in the back room, Aaron didn’t know where to start. Turned out, he didn’t actually have to say anything. Chas was sharp, she’d seen their rings and come to the obvious conclusion. “You’re engaged?”“Yeah,” Aaron said holding Robert's gaze for a moment. “Mum, I’m really happy,” he added. "Please don't kick off."“You’re going to take care of him?” Chas asked Robert.“Of course I am,” Robert said seriously.“Good,” she said. She hugged them both again, tightly, which surprised Robert. He didn’t do hugs like this, he thought it more likely that Chas would want him shot.“One more thing, we’re keeping this quiet,” Robert said. “Just from the press, for a little bit longer. So if you could…”“Yeah,” Chas said. “I get the picture. But if you go out in public wearing engagement rings, someone will pick up on it.”“We’re working on it,” Aaron said. Robert’s phone rang and he excused himself.“Are you happy?” Chas asked, once she’d got Aaron alone.“Yeah,” he said. “I never thought I’d get this. But I am happy, he makes me happy.”“That’s all that matters.” She smiled at her son, and Aaron smiled back, a smile which faded when Robert came back into the room. He looked serious, definitely not the look of a newly engaged man.“What is it?” Aaron asked.“Er… you… I’ve been keeping an eye on Gordon. And my investigator just called.”“Say it,”” Aaron said, though he knew from Robert's face. “Just… tell me.”“He’s dead." “You sure?” Aaron asked after a moment of silence.“Yeah,” Robert said. “I’m sure.”“Oh.” Aaron had no idea how he should be feeling right now. The man who’d made his childhood hell was dead. But all that Gordon might have done to him, he was still his father. A time that didn’t actually feel that long ago, he’d loved him. Aaron knew he’d had cancer and was unlikely to live long, but having that changed into a fact was… strange. He didn’t get the chance to think it through any further, because he found his face being pressed against Robert’s familiar chest, the scent of him so achingly comforting which he needed right now. Aaron didn’t know why he was upset, he should be glad. But a part of him hurt anyway.“It’s all right,” Robert soothed, pulling him onto the sofa, arms tight and sure around his body. “I’ve got you. Let it out, it‘s okay.” And Aaron did, feeling safe in his arms. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Aaron watched with admiration as Robert came back into the hotel bedroom, wet from the shower, skin glistening temptingly, a towel around his waist. “Not got the time, Aaron,” Robert said, correctly reading his look. “Got to go and do the whole red carpet thing, remember. Need a suit for that.”“Trust me, more people’d appreciate you like this,” Aaron said as Robert lay on the bed next to him.“Only you get this,” Robert said quietly, leaning across the bed and kissing him softly.“There’s a semi naked calendar of you going around online that says different,” Aaron teased.“Oh God,” Robert said, wincing at that, making Aaron laugh under his breath. “The photo shoot was before I met you. Not my fault it‘s only just been released.”“Mm,” Aaron said. “Why did you think that was a good idea?” Aaron couldn’t help grinning widely. “Not that I’m not a fan of the August shot, but…”“Oh, so you’ve looked,” Robert questioned with a raised eyebrow.“Wanted to compare it to the real thing,” he said, off hand. “Much better like this.” He leaned over and kissed Robert’s chest gently. Robert smiled before moving to the bedside table and putting the chain around his neck, where he’d taken to wearing his engagement ring. Neither of them wanted to invite the press attention if they didn’t have to, and for the last week, Robert had been doing a lot of PR, and the Oscar interview circuit he couldn’t get out of. So, his ring had been worn under his shirt, keeping it close to his skin but not letting anyone else see it. Aaron hadn’t had to be as careful, because he didn’t have cameras pointing at him all day.“Don’t,” Aaron said firmly.“Don’t what?” Robert said.“Just... take it off,” Aaron said. “Wear it where it should be.” Robert didn’t move, but allowed Aaron to take the chain off from around his neck, unclasping it and sliding his engagement ring off. Aaron put the ring onto Robert’s finger, exactly where it belonged.“You know what this means?” Robert asked. “A cameraman will spot it tonight.”“Let them,” Aaron said simply. “I love you.”“Ready for the car crash?”“No,” Aaron said honestly. “But I don’t think I ever will be. We need to just… let them print whatever it is they‘re going to print.”“And you pick Oscar night, do you?” Robert said. “You know how to pick your moments. Are you sure?”“Very.” Aaron ran a hand over his hair in agitation and nervousness. He wanted it to be public, but that didn’t mean he was looking forward to the white flash of cameras from the press.“Aaron, I’m going to say it once more, you do not have to come with me tonight,” Robert said seriously.“Yes, I do,” Aaron said. “I need to be there for you. And I want to.”“All right,” Robert said. “Got a suit to put on then.” Robert took Aaron’s hand in the back of the limo. He could tell Aaron was incredibly nervous and agitated, this being his first time doing the red carpet. And he was certainly starting with a bang. Robert stroked Aaron‘s engagement ring gently, loving Aaron even more for wanting to do this for him. “We don’t have to do this,” Robert said.“Yes, of course we do,” Aaron said.“No, I do,” Robert said. “There’s no problem with us circling the block and taking you back to the hotel.” Aaron looked at Robert and saw that he honestly meant it.“You’d do that for me?” Aaron asked.“I know this makes you uncomfortable, the whole circus. I have to be there, you don’t.” Robert looked at him and seemed to come to some sort of internal resolution, because Robert nodded, then moved to talk to the driver.“No, I’ll come,” Aaron interrupted quickly. “I need to be there for you.”“Whether you’re physically with me or not, I know you’re there for me,” Robert said.“No, I’m coming. Kat’ll be there?”“Yeah, she’s around,” Robert agreed. “Probably wearing a tiny scrap of a dress, but…” Aaron rested his head on Robert’s shoulder comfortably, the calm before the storm.“Are you sure you want to come?” Robert asked once more, Aaron straightening up.“Yeah,” he said. “Just don’t… leave me on my own to face the wolves.”“I won’t for a second,” Robert promised. He kissed Aaron very gently as the limo drew to a stop. “Ready?” Aaron wasn’t, but he nodded anyway. The waiting wasn’t going to make this any easier.“Let’s get it over with,” Aaron said. Robert did not care that the photographers could see into the back of the limo from where they were, he kissed Aaron anyway, hoping it was full of reassurance. The look in Aaron’s eyes said it was working. He slipped his hand so he was holding Aaron’s gently.“Come on.” Aaron forced a smile, and kept a tight grip on Robert’s hand as they left the car. He’d be okay, as long as he had Robert by his side. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Aaron went into the office of Home Farm and stood blinking. He hadn’t expected to be confronted by four strangers in suits, and a very harried Robert behind his desk. “Oh, sorry,” Robert said. “I… er… we keep spare chargers in the bottom drawer, and…” Aaron waved his phone in illustration. One of the men whispered to Robert who shook his head.“Absolutely not,” Robert said, one step away from shouting. “No, it’s not happening.”“Calm down, Robert,” Aaron said. “Want to tell me what’s not happening?” The lawyers looked shifty.“They want you to sign a prenup,” Robert almost spat. “I’ve told them it’s not happening, no way, but they won’t listen to me!” The noise started rising with all the lawyers trying to convince Robert this was a good idea.“Robert!” Aaron shouted, trying to make himself heard. “They’re right.” Everyone looked at him in complete shock. “Of course they’re right. I don’t mind…”“Well, I do mind!” Robert snapped. “How can you even consider…”Aaron reached across the desk and covered Robert’s hand with his own, trying to calm him down. “I’m not after your money, Robert. You know that. I don’t think they’re totally out of their minds trying to protect you.”“But it’s just so insulting!” Robert shouted.“I’m not planning on us needing to use it anyway,” Aaron said, still calm. “What does it matter if you’re saying I can’t sue for half your money or the house if we ever get divorced?”“You’re way too good for me,” Robert said.“Remember that,” Aaron said with a grin. Robert sighed heavily. “Let me have a look at what you want me to sign, then.”The lawyers all seemed to be falling over themselves, none of them having expected Aaron would be willing so quickly.“You can get your solicitor to look over them,” one of them said.“I can manage to read, thank you,” Aaron said sarcastically, ignoring Robert‘s smile. All but one of the legal people left, as Aaron slowly read it through. It was long winded, but not particularly complicated.“I’ll sign, but not that section,” Aaron said. Then he looked at Robert. “Have you read this?”Robert shook his head. “No. And if I had my way, you wouldn’t be reading it either.”“RS reserves the right to have complete parental rights to any and all dependents,” Aaron parroted. “I’m not signing that. Because that’s referencing children, right?” he asked the lawyer.“Get out,” Robert said to the lawyer, without heat. Because he and Aaron had never discussed children, in more than abstract terms, like when Vic was with her new baby. The lawyer left. “You want kids?”“Maybe,” Aaron said. “Not now, though!” he added seriously. “But in the future, maybe. I’d like the option anyway. And I’m not signing something that says if we divorce, you’ll have the right to stop me from seeing them.”“Them?” Robert questioned. “Plural now is it? We‘re having more than one kid?” Aaron blushed and Robert would have laughed if it was anything less serious. Aaron looked adorable when he blushed like this. “It’ll be removed from the contract,” Robert said softly. “But I don’t want you signing it anyway. Our relationship is none of their business.”“Robert, it’s their job to protect you,” Aaron said quietly. “It’s why you pay them. And being brutally honest, if we did split up I’ve already got that house in my name on the other side of the village. A place to live, I don’t want more than that, it’s not my money Robert, and it never was.”“Don’t sign it,” Robert said.“I will,” Aaron said. “Because it doesn’t matter. I’m marrying once, I’ve no intention of leaving you. So this bit of paperwork doesn’t matter.” Robert glanced at Aaron with a lust filled look that Aaron recognised, and he straddled Robert’s lap, pushing against him. Robert grinned, hands going up and down Aaron’s back as they kissed, deep and passionate.“I need uncles,” Vic said, coming into the office, looking at them both desperately. Holly was in her carrier, crying with her screwed up face. “I don’t know what she wants!”Aaron got off Robert with a little reluctance, picking Holly up and cradling her gently, smiling at the little girl.“Aaron’s got the magic touch,” Robert said, almost proud of how well his niece and his fiancé seemed to have bonded.“Sh, sh, sh,” Aaron murmured to the bundle, rocking her gently.“How do you do it?!” Vic wailed.“I refuse to be scared of a baby that weighs about the same as a bag of sugar.”“Several bags of sugar,” Vic corrected, sitting down exhausted.“Vic, would you have signed a prenup if Adam asked you to?” Robert said, seeing an opportunity as Aaron comforted the baby. Aaron glared at him, not wanting to talk about this.“What, assuming either of us had more than two pennies to rub together?” Vic asked. Then she seemed to click onto what Robert was actually saying. “You’re asking him to sign a prenup? Rob, how could you? He’s not after your money, and if you think he is, no way should you be marrying him!”“Thank you,” Robert said pointedly, staring at Aaron. “I don’t want you signing it.”“I don’t care,” Aaron said, trying to keep his voice level, now that Holly had quietened a little. “I love you. What does it matter if we have paperwork to tell me that if I ever fall out of love with you, I can’t have half of everything?”“Stop being so selfless,” Robert said. “I can’t…”“Robert…” Aaron said firmly. “If I really thought we wouldn’t work, I wouldn’t have said yes when you proposed. I am not marrying you for cash. Your lawyers want me to sign it, so I will.” Robert shook his head, but stopped arguing. It was pointless. And Aaron did make one point, that they’d hopefully never need to use it anyway.“There you go mummy,” Aaron said, handing the now sleeping baby back to Vic.“You make me feel so incapable,” she said. “And Moira’s at the house, I can’t let her see that I’m not coping, because then I’d feel completely incapable and useless and I can’t even calm my own baby! And…”“Vic, you being upset is winding her up again,” Robert said, noticing the baby starting screwing her face up at hearing her mother so distressed. “Give her here, and go upstairs and have a bath. Relax and calm down.”“You sure?”“She’s fed, right?” Robert asked.“Yeah,” Vic said. “Yeah, course she is.”“Then we’ll be fine. Go.” She looked at Robert but didn’t really have it in her to argue, and agreed, giving Holly back to Aaron carefully.“Well, you said kids,” Robert teased, looking at the bundle in Aaron’s arms.“I didn’t mean instantly!” Aaron said, though he couldn’t help but smile at the gorgeous sleeping baby. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Robert flicked through the articles over the last couple of months about them and their relationship. Vic tended to save the magazines that mentioned him, she had for a few years, so it was easy to go through them. He didn’t seek them out, but it was useful to catch up with them every now and then, just to see what the mood or opinion was. The one Caroline published after Aaron moved in was there, received well. Then the piles of pictures and publicity from the Oscars. Aaron looked nervous in the pictures, no surprise, because Robert knew he had been nervous. He was the one with him after all, feeling Aaron’s hand shaking in his. There’s a big double page spread with the headline “Engaged?” pointing out the fact that he and Aaron are wearing matching rings. They’ve not officially confirmed it through Robert’s agent, but it’s obvious by this point.Robert turned over the page and scowled by reflex. Sebastian Piovene smugly smiling at the camera, hands wrapped around his best actor Oscar. “You’re not torturing yourself are you?” Aaron asked, coming into the living room, seeing Robert glaring at the pictures.“I don’t mind that I didn’t win,” Robert said, closing the magazine. “I mind that he did. Come on, he only had about three scenes in that film of his. It’s ridiculous!”“Robert, it doesn’t matter,” Aaron said, sitting down in the arm chair. “You said you wouldn’t win.”“But he’s so arrogant!” Robert snapped.“I’m going to tell Vic to stop saving the rags for you,” Aaron said. “And by the way, you’ve got a little bit of arrogance about you too.”“No, I haven’t,” Robert said indignantly. Aaron just did that little chuckle of his under his breath. “What’s this?” Robert looked to see Aaron holding a wedding magazine.“Oh, God, Vic must have put that there,” Robert said, shaking his head. “Though it wouldn’t hurt to start planning, we’ve been engaged for a few months now.”“Mm,” Aaron said. “Do we actually need a plan? Just do it, right?”“Well, a marriage licence might be necessary,” Robert said. “And the where and when needs organising.”“When’re you busy?” Aaron asked. Robert frowned. “Like out of the country for filming, or whatever it is that keeps you out of the UK,” he added pleasantly.“I’m not,” Robert said bluntly.“That doesn’t make any sense,” Aaron said. Robert was a busy actor, how could he be at home for endless weeks without anything on the horizon?“I’ve filled all the contracts I had, before we went public. I don’t have… any other projects going on. It’s fine,” he added to Aaron’s look.“Because of me?” Aaron asked.“Because there are still quite a lot of bigots in the industry,” Robert said. “Apparently, no one’s going to believe I’m straight any more. Don’t worry.”“That’s… Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” Aaron said.“Yeah, I am too,” Robert said honestly. “But it isn’t your fault.” Aaron still looked guilty and twitchy and Robert hated that, because it wasn’t his fault in any way. Robert moved over to him and straddled his lap, looking into Aaron’s eyes closely, Aaron stroking Robert‘s thighs almost out of habit. “It doesn’t matter.” Aaron shrugged, before Robert kissed him gently. “I wouldn’t give you up for anything, please forget it.”“Can’t exactly forget it, can we?” Aaron said. Robert distracted Aaron with another kiss.“Come on, I’m Oscar nominated now, remember? Won’t be short of job offers for long. It’s just a dry patch, it happens.” Robert’s normal attempt at bravado didn’t quite come off as intended, but Aaron appreciated it anyway. Sometimes Robert’s ego was a good thing. Robert kissed him softly, letting it linger, all gentle presses of lips, leaving Aaron wanting a lot more.“So, wedding,” Robert said, trying to bring them back to the subject at hand. Though he didn’t get off Aaron either, enjoying the close contact. Would he ever get over the physical novelty of being with Aaron? “Where do you want it?”“Here,” Aaron said. “Home. Couldn’t have it anywhere else really. I want…“ he was distracted by Robert kissing his neck for a moment. “I want mum to be there. And Adam and Vic, but I don’t really need anyone else, you know? Small.”“Okay,” Robert said. “Can Kat come?”Aaron thought about that. He liked Kat, and knew she was Robert’s best friend, but there was no denying that she was high profile and would drag press attention with her. But then, Robert Sugden’s wedding was probably always going to have press attention.“Yes,” he said. “Of course Kat can come, she’s your friend.”“She likes you too,” Robert said, before moving forward and kissing Aaron’s neck sensually.“It’s the middle of the day, why do I get the feeling you’re trying to talk me into bed?” Aaron said, smiling at him.“Doesn’t normally need persuasion,” Robert said, trailing his hand down to the front of Aaron‘s jeans. “I want you, I won’t apologise for that.”“The doors locked, right?” Aaron asked lowly, guessing that they weren’t actually going to make it upstairs.“Yeah,” Robert whispered, before leaning into another kiss. Robert gave wedding planning to one of his PA‘s, because Aaron was right in one thing. The wedding itself didn’t actually matter, the marriage did. He agreed and disagreed with several options after discussing things with Aaron, but left all the actual planning to someone else. Well, there had to be some benefits to being wealthy didn’t there?“Three weeks from today?” Robert suggested one night in bed. “For our wedding.”“That’s soon,” Aaron said in surprise. “Are you sure?”“We can stretch out our engagement longer if you like?” Robert said. “I thought sooner would be better.”“Why?”“You might see sense and leave me,” Robert said quietly.“Robert…” Aaron said, exasperated. “I’m not going to leave. So three weeks sounds perfect to me.”“Great,” Robert said, smiling slowly.“Guess I’ll have to go to all those red carpet things now,” Aaron said. “Can’t get out of it when I’m your husband, can I?”“The last one wasn’t that bad, was it?” Robert said.“I was… nervous,” Aaron said. “I don’t get why people are that interested in me. Or you actually, come to that. You’re not that special, Sugden.”“Oh!” Robert said, rolling on top of a laughing Aaron, pinning his body to the bed. “Is that so?”“Well, not to them. But you’re special to me,” Aaron said, relenting, eyes soft.“God, the way you look at me sometimes…” Robert said quietly, stealing a kiss. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The time until their wedding ticked down double fast. Beyond buying a new suit, neither man actually had too much to do. Though Robert was slightly disappointed their honeymoon looked like it might be postponed. His agent had got him a script read through in London, which he had no intention of accepting, as it would land right in the middle of their honeymoon. Unfortunately Robert had made the mistake of telling Aaron, and he had insisted Robert didn’t avoid it, and took the offer of work when it was there. Robert grumbled, but not too much. He enjoyed his work and a new challenge was always good.Now Gordon had died, Robert had let the security guards at Home Farm go, which meant Aaron felt more comfortable. He didn’t like people watching him, said it made his skin itch. Though it was something Robert would have preferred to keep, just as a little security blanket, he didn’t want to get into an argument with Aaron. Not now when they were looking forward to their wedding, and things were going so well. It was tomorrow. Where had the last few days and weeks gone? They weren’t having a stag night as such, but Aaron did want to go to the Woolpack and have a few drinks with his friends. I.e. Adam. Robert didn’t mind, but now he was saying goodbye to Aaron, it was almost like he didn’t want to let the other man out of his sight.“It’s just a couple of drinks,” Aaron said as Robert kissed his neck sensually, almost like he was marking him. “I’ll crash at Adam and Vic’s, and see you tomorrow at the registry office.” It was going to be a small quick ceremony in Hotten, then back to the Woolpack for celebratory drinking which would no doubt go on well into the night and the next morning.“Okay,” Robert said, taking in a deep breath. He hadn’t realised how much he didn’t like to part from Aaron, to actually sleep alone until this moment. Why had he had to go and be all traditional, wanting to spend the night before their wedding apart? Such a bad idea on reflection. It was different when Robert was out of the country, because it was hotel rooms, strange beds, beds Aaron wasn’t supposed to be in. Unlike his bed at home, which is exactly where Aaron should be. This was different and Robert didn’t much fancy the loneliness.“This was your idea,” Aaron said, reading his face. “You wanted this and…”“I know,” Robert said. “But I miss you when we don’t sleep together.”“Soft,” Aaron said, but the affection in his eyes was unmistakable. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Robert kissed him deeply.“I’ll be the handsome one in the suit,” Robert said, a show of his usual confidence. “Oh, before you go. Ring.”“Right.” Aaron tugged his engagement ring off, putting it in the box Robert held out. They’d decided to use the same rings, because Aaron didn’t want to wear two, and he also didn’t want to replace his engagement ring with a wedding band. It meant too much to him, to them both. Robert put his in the box next to Aaron’s, and took his hand. Robert rubbed the bare patch on Aaron’s finger. The ring had already worn a grove into his skin. Unable to resist, Robert kissed his finger there, ignoring Aaron’s rolling of the eyes.“Don’t get in trouble with Kat,” Aaron warned.“Mm, well last time we were alone with a lot of alcohol, we ended up in Amsterdam.”“That sounds like a story,” Aaron said, lips twitching.Robert shrugged. “That’s what happens when you have more money than sense and overindulge in vodka.” Aaron wondered if Robert would even be here this time tomorrow, and Robert could read it in his face. “She’ll keep me under control, don’t worry.”“See you tomorrow then,” Aaron said, kissing him gently. The beeping of a car horn in the driveway distracted them. “That’ll be Adam.” Robert allowed his fingers to stroke Aaron’s stubble gently, enjoying the sensation.“See you later.”“Bye.” Aaron kissed him once more, deep and a little dirty, a promise of more tomorrow. Aaron’s eyes were sparkling as he left the house, and Robert sighed.“Okay, now you’ve got that out of the way, what’re we drinking tonight?” Kat said from the hallway.“Not much,” Robert said. “I need to be sober for tomorrow.”“Robert Sugden, are you nervous?” she teased. Robert was feeling too fragile, too worked up to buy into it. “Don’t worry, it’ll all be fine.”“You ever feel like you’ve found everything you want, and you’re scared it’s going to be taken away?” Robert asked quietly, excusing his sentimentality because it was the day before his wedding. He was allowed to be sentimental.“No,” she said. “We don’t all find our Aaron. I want vodka. Come on, I need to toast your wedding.” He followed her to the booze. One whisky might calm his nerves. Aaron couldn’t sleep. He was nervous, which was stupid. He had a life with Robert carved out already, one day, one legality didn’t really define anything, did it?Because he was lying awake, mind running a hundred miles an hour, he heard Holly when she started snuffling. Thinking it would save Adam or Vic a journey, he cradled the baby, cooing over her. Holding her solid weight actually helped to calm him down, because she was real and tangible and stopping her from crying was something Aaron could do. Or usually anyway, though right now it wasn’t working.“She wants milk,” Vic said, smiling at the sight anyway. “Afraid you’re no good for that.”“No,” Aaron said, handing Holly over to her mother. “No, I’m not. I’ll go…” he said awkwardly. But Vic was in such a habit, she was already feeding the baby, who’s crying had instantly been cut off. She sat down on the chair, looking at Aaron.“Can’t sleep?”“No,” he said. “I can’t believe this is happening. I think… it’s like a dream, and I’m waiting to wake up.”“My brother’s not all that,” Vic said. "You and I both know he has flaws."“Do you never get…”“No, go on,” she said when Aaron stopped. He did speak, but only because he’d had a few pints, it was late, and he could blame his emotions on that.“Do you ever look around you, and think God, I’m so lucky?” Aaron cleared his throat. “Like, when you think of you and Adam, or Holly. Or… I don’t know, it’s stupid.”“It’s not stupid,” Vic said quietly. “I think that’s called happy, Aaron.” Aaron smoothed his suit down for the dozenth time. He was in a private room of the registry office and his nerves hadn’t faded one bit. He’d got a couple of texts from Robert, so knew he was both sober and still coming so he couldn’t ask for too much more, could he? There was a knock on the door and Aaron turned, seeing Adam and Kat coming in, Kat wearing a fabulous red dress that Adam was struggling to keep his eyes off of.“Ready?” Adam asked.“I don’t know,” Aaron said.“I tell you, if you think you’re nervous, you should see Rob!” Kat said, a glint in her eyes.“Really?”“Yeah, he’s bricking it,” Kat said almost gleeful. “I’ll have to tease him about this in the future. He thinks you’re going to run out on him. God knows why!”“He’s not had too much whisky,” Aaron said. The silence was telling “Right?!”“He’s had one this morning,” Kat said. “A large one.”Aaron sighed heavily. “Please make sure that he’s not drunk, I’d quite like my husband sober when we do this.”“Will do,” she said with a smile, leaving the room.Aaron was nervous. Why was he nervous? He wanted this more than anything, he wanted Robert more than he thought he’d ever want anyone in his entire life. He just needed a moment alone. “Adam, can you… I need a minute to think.”“I’ve got the getaway car if you want,” Adam said, only half joking.“No, I’m fine. Just want to be alone for a sec. Okay?” Adam nodded, pulled his mate into a hug, then left him alone. Aaron took several deep steadying breaths. He was really doing this, he was really getting married to Robert. God, how did this happen to someone like him? How did he get to marry someone who loved him like this? It didn't happen, it just didn't.“Right, I’m coming,” Aaron said as the door opened, assuming it was Adam. It wasn’t. It took about two seconds for Aaron to react. It was two, no, three men who looked more like thugs. They came at him, and Aaron reacted instinctively, he punched one in the face, who fell back with a groan, but two more men were on him, trying to restrain him. It was instinctive, Aaron fought and struggled, but he was outnumbered as his hands were forced behind his back, the grip tight, hard and painful, even as he fought them. He still struggled, trying to escape when the black hood went over his head completely disorientated him. Then he felt a punch to his temple, and he blacked out. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “I’ve been sent to stop you from doing that,” Kat said, grabbing the glass and pulling it out of Robert’s reach. “Hubby says no more whisky.”“You’ve seen him?” Robert asked. “How is he?”“He looks perfect,” Kat said with a gentle smile.“Thank you,” Robert said quietly, appreciating that. If he ever did this again (not that he planned to) he’d make sure to refuse any ridiculousness about spending time away from his husband. Such a stupid idea. And for some reason, he felt anxious, like something was about to go horrendously wrong. Which was stupid, of course nothing was going to go wrong. He loved Aaron, and he knew that Aaron loved him. So what was the problem?“Are you okay?” Kat asked.“Mm,” he said. “Just… need to see him. He’s the only one who calms me down when I get like this.”“I’ll go and get him,” Kat said. “You’re nearly up anyway.”“Kat, you’re…”“What?” she asked.“Nothing,” he said, unable to even formulate what he wanted to say. “You’re a good friend, that’s all.” She smiled a dazzling grin at him before leaving. “Oh hi,” Kat said, seeing Adam alone in the room. “Where’s Aaron? It’s nearly time to get him married off,” she added brightly.“That’s a good question,” Adam said. “He er… said he wanted some time alone, so I left him. I came back and… he’s gone.”“What do you mean, gone?” Kat asked. Adam looked at her pointedly. “No, he can’t be gone,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, gone where?”“I don’t know,” Adam said. “There’s no sign of him. And his phone’s here too, so we can’t call him. I think he’s run for it.” Adam held up the phone in illustration and Kat couldn’t believe it.“Aaron wouldn’t,” Kat said obstinately.“I’ve known him longer than you,” Adam said. “When things start to get on top of him, he can be… a little unpredictable.”“But he loves Robert!” Kat said, shaking her head. “They’re actually sickeningly sweet, when you stop and watch them together. No. I can’t believe Aaron would just leave him.”“Then where is he?” Adam said. Kat looked around the empty room, her heart sinking. His absence spoke louder than she could. “Right, we’re ready to go,” Chas said happily, looking around the room. “Where’s Aaron?”“Million dollar question,” Kat murmured under her breath, sat on a chair and tapping her high heeled foot with impatience. Chas looked at Adam, confused.“He’s not here,” Adam said.Chas paused, the words not making sense. “So… where is he?”“We think he’s bolted,” Adam said.“No, you think he’s bolted,” Kat grumbled. She didn’t believe Aaron would just leave, especially without a word of explanation to anyone. That wasn’t the Aaron she knew, he wouldn’t hurt Robert like this without a good reason.Chas looked completely deflated. “I’ve wanted him to leave Robert for ages, and now that I’ve finally accepted it, Aaron just walks away?” Everyone stayed silent not knowing what to say.Vic came in to join the growing number of people, Holly in her arms. “What’s going on?” she asked. “I've got a baby in a brand new clean dress and it won't last long. What’s the hold up?” Everyone looked uncomfortable. Adam filled her in briefly.“No,” she said simply. “He can’t have.”“Exactly,” Kat said chipping in, glad someone agreed with her.“Can’t have or not, that looks like that’s exactly what he’s done,” Adam said darkly.“When did you get all doom and gloom?” Vic asked. “You know how much he loves Rob, you all know that! Why would he leave?”“I’ll drive around for a bit,” Adam said. “See if he’s found a pub somewhere for one last pint to calm his nerves. I can’t just sit here.”“Call if you find him,” Vic said, letting Adam kiss her, then the baby."I will." As the seconds ticked by into minutes, no one said anything, but they were all thinking it. Someone was going to have to break Robert’s heart, and Vic was the first one who looked like she was willing to vocalise it.“Look, one of us is going to have to tell Robert he’s got a runaway groom,” Vic said eventually, when the silence started to become too much.“I’m not doing it,” Kat said. Everyone looked at her. “Come on!” she said. “I can’t tell him that, it’d crush him!”“It’ll be better coming from you,” Chas said. “You’re his friend, if he has to hear bad news…”“Bad news about what?” Everyone turned to see Robert at the door, looking possibly more twitchy than anyone had ever seen him. “Someone spit it out. We’re already running late.”“Er…” Kat started. “It’s Aaron. There’s a tiny problem.”“Which is?” Robert asked.“He’s gone,” Chas said quietly, Robert looking appalled. “Adam’s checked the building, and he’s looking outside now. Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” Aaron came around slowly. He wasn’t sure for a few minutes, because though he felt conscious, his vision was black. Then sense caught up to him. He could feel the hood over his head, tight, his breathing making the fabric damp against his mouth. Restricted. Trapped. Unable to move. Aaron’s breathing started coming in fits and bursts, needing more air than he was getting. No. You cannot panic, he thought to himself. If he had a panic attack right now with his airway restricted like this, he’d probably pass out. And he needed to stay awake, alert. He tried his wrists, no they were tied fast. Pulling caused pain, and no effect either except to strain his arms and shoulders. He wasn’t sure, but he thought his ankles were tied too, though it was hard to tell in the cramped space. One thing he knew was he couldn’t move his legs. He knew he was in a car boot, could feel the vibrations from a running car and that really wasn’t helping him to calm down either. No, it was the hood over his head that was really causing him problems. The restriction, the desperate feeling of imprisonment was driving him mad. Surely they wouldn’t be driving him that far away. What on earth could they possibly want with him anyway? What would be the point? Robert. This must have something to do with Robert. Because Aaron wasn’t useful for much was he?Robert. The thought was like cold ice. He’d be waiting for Aaron at the registry office right now. Waiting as Aaron didn’t show, dressed up in his suit, looking gorgeous. He wanted to marry Robert. God, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more, and being nervous about today didn’t change that. But he had wanted this, Robert for the rest of his life. And strangers had taken that away from him for God knows what reason. Robert would be waiting, his face and heart falling as he realised Aaron wasn’t going to show. Surely someone would work out that he wouldn’t leave on his own accord. Not without saying something to someone. God, he hoped someone would have a bit of faith in him, and start looking for him. He needed his friends and family to start looking. How long had he been knocked unconscious for? It didn’t feel like too long, but he might be imagining that.Aaron moaned as the car went over a bump. Several bumps actually. They were going down a country lane, or a farm track, they had to be. That might be useful if he ever got out of this. Aaron tried to stay calm, and managed well enough until the car drew to a stop, the engine dying off. God, what were they going to do with him? The panic filled his entire body as he heard footsteps on gravel. “He probably went outside to get some fresh air,” Kat suggested. “What, for a three mile hike?” Robert asked harshly. Then felt bad for snapping, this wasn’t Kat’s fault. “He’s been gone too long. He isn’t coming, Kat. He doesn’t want me.” “No,” Kat said. “I don’t believe that, getting married’s a big thing. He probably needed…” Kat had nothing else to say, running out of excuses now. As time went on, it just looked worse and worse. And she was sat here with her best friend, whose heart was breaking. She had never seen him look so distraught.Robert looked at her and shook his head. “Come on, he’s been gone for more than an hour now. If he’s not here, it’s because he doesn’t want to be.” Robert downed a glass of whisky, needing the distraction. Or something to sink into a maudlin depressed state, more like. “It’s because he doesn’t want to marry me. And that‘s just going to have to be something I accept.” He was speaking hollowly, not really feeling his words, not yet.“No,” Vic said. “He loves you, I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. He wouldn’t walk out. And if he was getting cold feet, he sure as hell would have told someone! Sorry sweetheart,” she added, rocking Holly who’d twitched at Vic’s anger.“I love him too,” Robert said, voice breaking. “More than I ever thought possible. But where is he, Vic? Why would he leave?” She didn’t have an answer. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Maybe something’s wrong,” Robert said quietly. “Maybe this is more than nerves. He really didn’t say anything to you?” he asked. Chas shook her head, not having heard a word from Aaron. And Robert was right, Aaron saying nothing to anyone was strange.“No,” Kat said. “I’m done waiting now, I’m not going to be miserable, I’m going to figure out what the hell is going on.” Kat got up, leaving the room, intending on talking to someone in charge. The registrar by now had assumed that the wedding wasn’t going ahead, and had moved on to the next wedding. Brilliant.“Hi,” Kat said brightly to the receptionist. “You got CCTV in this place?”“We hold a lot of legal documents,” she said as if Kat was completely thick. “Yes, of course we do.”“Great,” she said. “We have a runaway groom who hasn’t taken his phone, and I’d quite like to know what happened, and where he’s got to.”“I can’t do that,” she said.“Have you been on the front desk all day?”“No,” she said tartly. “I do actually have other duties besides answering the phone, you know.” Great, Kat thought. I have someone who’s bitter at life and hates her job.“I would really appreciate it if you could see the footage for room 5b. I’d like to know…”“I can’t do that without management agreeing,” the woman interrupted.“How much?” Kat asked bluntly, seeing that charm and a nice smile wasn’t doing it. “I need to see the footage for the last two hours. People don’t just vanish into thin air, ten minutes before their wedding.”“I’m not available to be bought,” she said with fake dignity. Then seeing that Kat wasn’t being moved, she sighed. “Let me have a look…” Kat breathed a sigh of relief and watched as the woman typed away on the computer. “That room has it’s own side entrance for privacy, but you need the key, which Mr Dingle would have had. It‘s usually used for when brides want to keep their dress away from prying eyes.” The receptionist rolled her eyes, making it clear just what a bitter person she was. People had been coming and going all day, Aaron wouldn’t have locked it, Kat was almost positive of it.“Oh God.”“Oh God, what?” Kat snapped, her sweet voice changing into a harsh tone instantly. The receptionist had gone pale, her eyes wide.“I… er… think we should call the police.”“Tell me why,” Kat demanded.“It… doesn’t look like he walked out of here by his own free will,” she said. She turned the screen of the computer around and Kat’s jaw dropped. Aaron could almost hear his heart beating, racing as the footsteps on the gravel approached. He tried to calm down, tried to listen.“…sure he can breathe in there?” Aaron heard, the footsteps stopping outside the boot.“Yeah, he’s no good to us dead is he?” Aaron took a reassurance from the words, because maybe, just maybe they weren’t planning on killing him. A ridiculous thought, as who would want to kill him in the first place? God, this was weird. Aaron froze as the boot opened, waiting for something to happen, as it wasn’t like he could move. He knew the boot was open, because of the slight fresh air, and the vague light patches coming in through the hood. It wasn’t pitch black, but even so Aaron wanted it gone. And then it was, Aaron blinking at the sudden harsh light against his eyes. Before he could really focus, strong arms were hauling him up, dragging him towards a barn, looking very much abandoned. His ankles were tied, he realised, no way could he walk on his own right now.By the time his eyes started working again properly, he was thrown onto the hard ground of the barn, three people looking at him. It hadn’t been three men, he realised. It was two men and a woman. Why that made a difference, he didn’t know. He didn’t recognise any of them, and they weren’t covering their faces. The two men had to be brothers, they looked way too similar to be anything else. What that meant for the blonde woman, Aaron didn’t know.“Right, we’ve done your dirty work, how about a pay day?” The taller of the two men said to the woman. Oh, so she was the one in charge, was she?”“Phone,” she said, holding her hand out. The tall one threw her a phone, obviously a cheap phone that had never been used before. “You got Robert Sugden's number off his phone, right?” she said, nodding towards Aaron when she said “his.” “Course,” the man said. “Couldn’t lose our money, could we?”"Great." The woman dialled the number. “Robert we have a serious problem here,” Kat said, finding Robert still dejected. “And no more whisky, you need a clear head for this.”“What is it?” Chas asked, sensing the tone meant something serious had happened.“I guess I’ll show you.” Kat got her phone out and queued the footage the receptionist had sent her. Once she realised it was bad, the receptionist had become much more amenable. Robert watched the CCTV on the small screen, frowning.“No,” he said simply, unable to believe what he was seeing.“We all know Aaron wouldn’t leave you without saying anything at all,” Kat said. “Come on, Rob.”“But… why?” Robert asked, feeling both bewildered and a little faint. Chas snatched the phone and replayed the video. “It doesn’t make any sense.”“Robert, snap out of it!” Kat said. “Someone’s kidnapped your husband, and all you can do is sit there with your mouth hanging open?” They all stayed in silence, trying to absorb this new information, what it meant, how they’d get Aaron out of this.“You said you’d protect him, you said you’d keep him safe!!” Chas shouted, being the one to break the uncomfortable silence. “This is your fault, Robert! How could you let this happen?!”“I didn’t walk in here and kidnap him, Chas!” Robert snapped. “I’m just as worried as you are. More!”“Yeah, right,” Chas scoffed. “Just when I think you’re not bad for him, you go and prove me wrong!”“None of this is getting Aaron home, Chas!” Vic interjected.They were all interrupted by Robert’s phone ringing, which he answered quickly, heart hammering with what he now knew. It was an unknown number.“Yes?”“Is this Robert Sugden?” A woman’s voice.“What do you want?”“I think we’ve got something that belongs to you,” she said, voice almost smug. “Aggressive man, isn’t he?”“Again, what do you want?” Robert said.“Good, we understand each other. Thought a round one million would do it.”“This is about the money?” Robert asked, unable to hide his relief. He had money, and if it was just about that, chances were they wouldn’t hurt Aaron.“Of course it’s about the money,” she said. “No police, no anything, you give us the money, we give you back your lover in one piece. More or less anyway.”“I’m not giving you a penny until I know he’s okay,” Robert said firmly.“Alternatively, we can keep asking for more because you’re being… uncooperative. Two hours.”“I need more time,” Robert said. “I can’t just go into a bank asking for that kind of money without red flags being raised.”“Three then.”“You could be having me on,” Robert said. “I need to hear Aaron, I’m not negotiating with you on that.”“Fine.” Robert listened, his heart hammering and the adrenaline filling his body. Robert heard a shuffle on the phone, waiting for something, anything that would let him know Aaron was okay. He had to be okay, because if he wasn’t and Robert had wasted time thinking he’d been jilted…“Abandoned farm shed. Ah!…” It was Aaron’s voice, speaking quickly, but Robert also heard the painful groaning.“That was my brother punching your fiancés jaw,” the woman said. “I’ll call again. No police.” The line went dead and Robert exhaled heavily.“It’s money. They want money.” The panic and fear hadn’t set in yet, it had all been happening too quickly. But Robert knew that it would. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Aaron’s jaw was throbbing from where he’d been punched. He’d just had to say something, anything that might help, rather than sit here waiting for someone to rescue him like a pathetic weakling. “You really are a pain in the arse,” one of the men was saying.“I’m not the one who tied a stranger up in the boot of their car,” Aaron snapped. He was getting more than a little pissed off now, that feeling being more prevalent than the fear. “In case you hadn’t realised, I had plans today.”“Like he’d ever marry you,” the woman said, and Aaron couldn’t place the look on her face. Jealousy maybe? Both men were looking at her, and it was clear she was in charge of all of this.“What do you want with me?” Aaron asked.“Money,” one of the men said.“Might be for the two of you,” Aaron said. “It’s not that for her, is it?” Both men looked at her, and she narrowed her eyes at him.“Leah, you said this was a quick buck, that you wanted some muscle for your grand plan,” a man said. “I didn’t agree to anything else.”“It’s fine, it’s going to be fine. Robert Sugden will pay, then we can get free with the money and forget about him.”“You think I’m worth a million do you?” Aaron asked. “Not heard about the prenub he got me to sign? Money’s too precious to him, he’s not going to pay.” Aaron didn’t know what he was doing, he just knew that he couldn’t lay here, tied up on the floor doing nothing. “He’s a millionaire,” Leah said. “He’ll pay that to get his toy boy back.” She spoke with complete disgust, and Aaron was realising that a same sex relationship bothered her. Aaron was torn. Robert had the money, more than enough. But God, Aaron couldn’t see a world where he was worth anything nearing that. It was insane. “You don’t think much of me do you?” Aaron said.“What, the local bit of rough?” Leah asked. “He could have anyone. Any woman he wanted.”“Oh... A woman like you?” Aaron said, continuing to push her buttons.“I think my brothers are going to go for a drive,” she said, looking at them both. “Make sure no one’s around and that we have the place to ourselves.“Not sure we should leave you with him,” one of the men said warily.“He’s tied up, I think I can handle myself,” she said acidly. “This was my idea, you’ll get your pay out. Go.” Aaron watched with mounting fear as the two men left. It was obvious they had no vested interest in this. They were just the back up, and Aaron could handle a few punches, in a fight, he gave as good as he got. But being left alone with the woman who clearly had a different motive was… worrying. Robert was the manipulator, Robert would know what to say to her to get under her skin. Aaron didn't have the way with words that Robert did, to get around her.“I think we need a little chat,” Leah said, sinking to the floor so she was now at Aaron‘s eye level. “Robert asked for three hours to get the money, so… we’ve got time.” That did not fill Aaron with confidence. Robert had barely finished recounting the phone call to Chas, Kat, Vic and Adam (who’d returned) when the police were barging in, having been called by the clerk. Standard procedure apparently, though Robert was shocked that this happened often enough that “procedure” was necessary. Robert was refusing to speak to them, to cooperate, because the woman on the phone said no police. He would do absolutely everything to ensure Aaron’s safety. Like he should have been doing in the first place. It was a mess of police officers, clerks and family all talking at once and Robert realised he was losing his window of opportunity. Sooner or later an officer was going to ask for his phone, if the kidnappers called again. Robert couldn’t allow that to happen. He needed to be in control, or as much as he possibly could be right now. “I need some air,” Robert said.“Mr Sugden, we really need…” one of the police officers started.“Are you arresting me?” Robert asked bluntly.“…no,” the officer said, like this was insane.“Then I don’t have to talk to you,” Robert said, making sure he had both his phone and his car keys in his pockets as he left the building. He didn’t want to cooperate with the police, he wanted Aaron back with him, home and safe. He didn’t care if it cost him money, Aaron’s safety was too important. He'd pay everything he had to make sure Aaron was safe and happy and loved.“Rob, wait!!” He ignored that, going to his car. He needed to get to his bank manager, start a conversation and screw everything else. He unlocked his car and sat in the drivers seat.“Robert Sugden, don’t you dare drive off, I’m in heels!” Kat screamed after him. He looked and saw her slipping off her shoes, running barefoot to his car. “Get out.”“No, I need…”“I’ll drive,” Kat said. “Come on, I’ll go wherever you want. But you’ve had too much to drink, and the last thing Aaron needs is for you to be pulled over for driving under the influence.” She had a point, and Robert got out, going to the passenger seat.“You’re going to drive barefoot?” Robert asked, passing her the keys.“They’re Manolo Blahniks,” she said. “Not wasting those shoes driving. Now where am I going?” “I’m guessing we have two hours and forty five minutes,” Aaron said. The silence was starting to get to him, not to mention the pressure on his wrists. He was laying awkwardly on the floor but had no purchase to actually move, and he wasn’t about to ask Leah to help him sit up either. He didn’t want that woman’s touch anywhere near him. “So are you going to talk, or what?”“I’ve been thinking,” Leah said quietly. “Why’re you so special? What makes you... the one.”“Ever think Robert’s not actually that special either?” Aaron said. “He kicks in his sleep, he’s moody and he drinks way too much coffee and whisky.” He had other flaws and problems with living with Robert, but not ones he was willing to share with someone who may or may not be psychotic.“You’re a pathetic victim, why would he waste the time?” That hurt. Aaron had almost been expecting it, but he couldn’t help how much it hurt, to have his past thrown at him. It’s not like he could help or was responsible for what Gordon had done to him.“Last I heard, no one can help being raped,” Aaron snapped.“Yeah,” Leah said quietly. “You really believed that, you’d have taken it to court, wouldn’t you?” She wanted him to break, thought she was good enough with her words that he’d crack. Aaron became even more determined than before not to give into it. “If you really didn’t enjoy it, why would you go gay?”“You’re ignorant as hell,” Aaron said. “Going gay, as you put it, isn’t a choice!”“Robert Sugden is gorgeous, and he isn’t yours,” Leah said slowly, like he was struggling to understand something obvious. Yep, definitely obsessed, Aaron decided.“I think there’s some naked photos on my phone that would suggest otherwise,” Aaron said. There wasn’t, but he knew it would wind her up and got a brief thrill of satisfaction from Leah’s flinch. Then he couldn’t resist. “You realise he always uses body doubles in his films, right? That’s not really him. You can always tell because he has a bunch of freckles on his…”“Shut up!” Aaron instantly regretted speaking, because the black hood was back on his head before he could blink. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Well?” Kat asked as Robert returned to the car, a holdall in his hands. He’d had to go home to get his identification, otherwise he’d have no hope getting the money from his accounts. He’d also shed his tie, opening a couple of buttons on his shirt as he tried to sober up and think clearly.“I’ve only got five hundred thousand,” Robert said, sitting next to Kat in the car. His phone rang, but he ignored it. It was Chas, and he wanted to keep the phone line open for Aaron’s kidnappers.“They wanted twice that,” she reminded him.“Well, hopefully they aren’t going to stick around and count it,” Robert said tightly. “It was all I could get without the bank making a referral check to the police, the last thing I want. That amount of money…”“But it is your money.”“Yeah, but in cash, in twenties, with no plausible explanation?” Robert pressed. “If I were the bank, I’d have questions.” Kat was silent. “You think it’ll be enough?”“Depends,” Kat said. “If they’re really intent on hurting Aaron, no money would be enough.”“No,” Robert said slowly. He’d already realised that. “Let’s hope it’s just money they’re after then.” They had about ten minutes until the time was up to gather the money, and right now they had nothing to do but sit in the car, waiting. Robert started talking, knowing that staying in silence wasn’t doing his imagination any favours.“God, I’m going crazy, I don’t know how long I can stand this. He could be dead already, they could be doing anything to him right now.”“They won’t be,” Kat reassured.“If he’s… hurt, he won’t recover from it.”“You mean…” Kat cleared her throat. “Was it true, about him and his dad?” Robert flicked his eyes in a way that was a yes. “Oh, Rob. Sorry, I thought they were just publishing trash. I didn’t think…”“It… it was worse than what they wrote. Aaron’s told me everything and… I don’t actually know how he lets anyone touch him at all, me included. To get past that, to live a normal life… he’s the most amazing man I’ve ever known. But if some strangers touch him when he doesn’t want it… God, he won't cope…”“Robert, he will be okay,” Kat reassured, rubbing a hand on his thigh reassuringly. “He will.”“You can’t know that,” he said, shaking his head. “For God’s sake, I have our engagement rings in my pocket. I can’t even know he’s wearing his!” He liked it when they wore the rings, like wherever they were, there was a tiny connection between them both. And he’d been robbed of even that small bit of comfort.“Robert, look at me,” Kat said firmly. He did, eyes a little damp. “You cannot fall apart, not yet. When Aaron is safe and home with you, then you can fall into pieces, and let him put you back together. But not now, you can’t afford to.”“Kat… he’s the other half of me. I… I… just…” he was stuttering and falling over his words.“Sh, it’s okay,” Kat soothed, pulling Robert into a hug. “I promise it’ll be okay,” she said lowly. They both knew it was a promise she had no control to keep. Aaron’s hands were going numb. He had been rubbing the patch of skin where his engagement ring should sit, trying to focus on that rather than the lack of vision. Leah had left the hood on him in silence for…. He didn’t know how long. But the rope around his wrists was clearly making the circulation difficult because he was struggling. And he could really do with a drink.“You know he’s probably off with someone else now,” Leah said, letting Aaron focus on where her voice was coming from, trying to stop his attention from drifting. “If he doesn’t pay, he was probably just waiting for a reason to get shot of you.” Aaron didn’t really believe that, but the words hurt. He did have a fear of Robert wanting someone else, because he could have anyone he wanted, man or woman. Rich, gorgeous. And Robert had settled for him. Robert often told him that he didn’t want anyone else, that he wasn’t settling, but it was hard for Aaron to believe. He had so much baggage.“He’s got a blonde supermodel hanging off his every word. What is it, some twisted threesome kind of thing? Robert Sugden needs something a bit more exotic to satisfy him?” Aaron kept his mouth firmly shut. Kat wasn’t a threat, he never believed that. Or not since he and Robert got serious, and he’d got to know Kat, anyway. At first he had, because Kat was from Robert’s world, obviously beautiful and… Yeah, he cut that line of thought off sharply. He was sure if this mad Leah killed him, Kat would comfort him. Help Robert get over it. Stop being so negative. Don’t you dare let her get under your skin!“I was talking to you!” Leah snapped, pulling the hood off and slapping his face. It was the shock of being hit that bothered him more, because Leah was quite a small woman, and there wasn’t much force behind it.“Hitting someone who’s tied up,” Aaron said. “Really big of you, that.”“I think I should see just what Robert sees in you,” she said with a sneer. It took a few seconds for Aaron to realise what she was talking about. Leah approached him with a knife that Aaron had no idea where it had come from. Aaron could barely move anyway, with the way he was tied up, but when she got near him, he could barely breathe. A crazy woman with a knife wasn’t someone he wanted to be anywhere near. He still had his tie on, the knot having loosened, and Leah took it off him, then used it as a gag. All Aaron could do was glare at her. Then he closed his eyes as she started to cut off his suit jacket and shirt, trying to imagine himself anywhere else. That was an expensive suit, Aaron thought bitterly. Then realised how ridiculous that was, as Robert was probably getting an obscene amount of money together right now, to essentially buy his freedom. Aaron gasped around the gag as the knife nicked his skin, knowing he was bleeding.“Oh, didn’t expect this.” Aaron opened his eyes to see Leah examining him, looking at his self harm scars in a way that made Aaron feel embarrassed, ashamed. “And Robert Sugden wants you like this? You really believe that? God, you’re delusional.” Aaron closed his eyes and tried not to feel it as Leah traced the lines on his body, her fingernail scratching against him. It felt so wrong. The only person who was allowed to touch him like this was Robert. Robert kissed along his scars so beautifully, so tenderly, somehow never making him feel ashamed of how low he‘d got in the past. This was horrendous.Aaron heard a car approach, and hoped, that maybe this was help. Leah got away from him, letting Aaron breath again for a few moments. She looked out of a crack on the door and her shoulders sagged with relief. Anything that made her happy couldn’t be good, Aaron knew. The door opened and both of her brothers came in, dropping a bag on the floor.“Got the supplies you wanted,” one man said.“Great,” she said. “What’s the time?”“Sugden’s got about five minutes until his times up,” he said.“Great, I’ll call him,” Leah said. She picked up the phone and dialled through, it only took two rings before it was answered.“Got the money?” Leah asked.“Yes,” Robert said. “Where is he?”“No, no,” Leah said. “We’re not doing it like that. I tell you where we’re holding him, you’ll turn up with the police. So... You’re going to go where we tell you, we’re going to take the money, and then we’ll tell you where Aaron is.”“I need to know he’s okay,” Robert said. “I won’t do what you say until I know he’s all right.”“He’s a little tied up right now,” Leah said. “Last time we let him speak to you, he didn’t behave. I’m going to text you a location. Be there in twenty minutes.”“Fine,” Robert said. “But don’t you dare think you’re getting away with this.” Leah hung up the phone, typing away on the phone, composing a text message. Once she was done, she looked at both men.“We’ve got to move quickly,” she said to her brothers. “Hold him for me.” Aaron started struggling against his ties even more, knowing he wouldn’t like what was about to happen. But he didn’t have the strength against two men, and when Leah got out a medical kit from her bag, that’s when Aaron really started panicking, shouting into the gag. He couldn’t look away, almost hypnotised by it as Leah prepared a needle that Aaron wanted nowhere near him. There could be anything in that needle. This could be the last time he’d be alive, drawing free breath. God, how could this be happening?! It wasn’t fair. Leah was clearly psychotic enough to kill him if she wanted to.“No!” Aaron screamed into the gag, fighting with every muscle he had to get away from the hypodermic needle approaching his arm. But he was tied too tightly, restrained too well and he had nowhere to go. The sharp scratch of the needle hurt, because he was tight with tension trying to fight it. “No, no!” He could feel God knows what drugs starting to take effect, his arm going heavy. Then his body. And then he couldn’t move at all. His body went completely limp, and he couldn’t move a muscle, but he was still awake, aware. The gag was ripped from his mouth, but he couldn’t speak. That involved moving his jaw. Leah and the two men were moving around him, setting something up maybe, but he couldn’t lift his head or focus his eyes to work out what. The noise hurt his head, and he absolutely couldn’t move. Hard enough to breathe right now. The three figures blurred, swimming in and out of his vision, then he was alone. It took him a while to work out that they weren’t coming back, the entire time hoping and praying Robert would find him soon. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Robert sat in his car at a crossroads, the old fashioned signpost sitting in the middle, almost taunting him. Which way would those bastards be coming from? He was waiting, waiting for the kidnappers to turn up, waiting for Aaron, waiting. He needed the other half of him back. It felt like he couldn’t breathe, knowing Aaron was in danger. If he had wanted to spend his life with Aaron before this mess, that feeling had no increased tenfold. Because without Aaron, Robert wasn’t whole. Which if he voiced it out loud would sound ridiculous, but it was how he felt.Parked behind him, about fifty feet down the road was Adam. Robert had called him, and Adam wanted his best mate back too, not all that eager to play to the police’s game plan of tracking the kidnappers down, rather than paying up for Aaron’s safety. Which is what Adam had told Robert was going on. Robert needed the security of knowing Adam was there, just in case something went wrong. Having himself added to join Aaron wouldn’t help anyone.“They’re late,” Kat said tightly. Robert looked at her, and saw that she was nervous too.“Don’t you start losing it, you’re the only one keeping me sane right about now.”“He’s my friend too, Rob,” Kat said. “I don’t want anything to happen to him either.”“I know.” They both looked as a car approached, the second one since they’d parked. It was a black nondescript car, which slowed, then stopped. A woman and two men got out of it, and Robert followed suit, locking the car with Kat and the money inside. Just in case.“Where is he?”“Money,” the woman said.“Where is Aaron?” Robert repeated sternly.“He’s alive,” one of the men said. “Hand over the money, and no one will get hurt.”“I’m a little short,” Robert admitted. “Could only get five hundred grand without the police being called, which I assumed you wouldn’t want. You can take my car if you want. Take anything.”The woman’s eyes fell on the car with almost glee. “No,” the man said. “We’re not taking something that can be traced.”“James!”“No,” he said firmly. “Hand over the money.”“I want my husband back,” Robert said harshly. “I am not negotiating on that. Where is he? Not a penny until then.” Robert suddenly realised that those two men could probably forcibly take the money from him, and was glad he’d locked it in the car with Kat.“Here’s what’s going to happen,” the woman told him. “You are going to hand over the money. We’re going to leave and in an hour, when we’re safely away, we will call you with Aaron’s location.”“No,” Robert said. “You’re not leaving here without me knowing where he is. I’ll find him on my own if I have to.”“He’s on an anaesthetic drip,” Kat said. “I’ve guessed at his weight and dosage, so I’m assuming he has about two, possibly three hours before he overdoses and his heart stops. If you call the police, if you stop us from leaving, if you track us or the money, Aaron will die.”“No,” Robert said, his voice going to almost like a whisper. “You can’t… I don’t care about the cash, take it, just tell me where he is.”“One hour,” this James said, who apparently had a firmer grasp on the situation. The woman looked like she was enjoying this way, way too much. “That’ll get us far enough away and you’ll still have time to find him.”“If I find him in anything less than perfect health, I will make sure you have very painful deaths.” It might have been more convincing if his voice hadn’t been shaking. The woman laughed at him, openly, her eyes sparkling with malice and she looked like she was loving this. That was not promising.“Money,” James said firmly. Robert didn’t feel like he had a choice, knowing that every second he hesitated, it was another second that Aaron’s life dripped away. Assuming they were telling the truth, but then, why would they lie? Clearly they didn’t care about anyone other than themselves.Robert went to the car and got the holdall, ignoring Kat’s look. He felt the weight of the money, but he hadn’t been lying. He didn’t care about the cash.“There you go,” he said darkly. The two men took the cash out, quickly exchanging the bag. Probably assuming it had some kind of tracking device on it (it didn’t.) The woman just looked at Robert, staring at him. “Do I get the name of the people robbing me and threatening my husband?” Robert asked.“Why would I do that?”“Well, you said James, so I know one of your names.”“You threatening me?”“I want Aaron back,” Robert said. “That’s all. I don’t want revenge, I want him safe.”“Be patient,” she said. Robert watched with mounting dread and fear as the three of them got into the car and drove off.“Know where he is?” Kat asked as Robert got back into the car. Robert shook his head and explained. “How long’s he got?”“I don’t know,” Robert said honestly. “I… oh, God.”“Why did you give them the money, Rob?”“Google works fine on my phone, thank you,” Robert said. “Most people who’re abducted are dead within the first three hours,” Robert said darkly. “It’s already been that. He’s probably already… dead.” Robert swallowed uncomfortably. “And if he’s not, I want to do anything I can to give him the best chance possible. So I did what they said.” Robert’s voice broke, the tears freely flowing down his face.“I got the reg number,” Kat said.“Good, I guess,” Robert said. They sat in silence, and waited through agonising minutes. “If I lose him, it will completely destroy me,” Robert said thoughtfully. The quiet in the car was giving him time to think. “I can’t go on without him, Kat. It isn’t an option.”“I envy you, you know?” Kat said quietly.“Why?” Robert asked in disbelief. He wouldn’t wish how he felt right now on his worst enemy. Like he’d lost all hope, all the will to carry on.“To be… to have someone who you love so much you’d do anything for them. As long as they were okay, as long as they were happy, it would be enough to make you happy. I’ve never had that, Rob. Didn’t think it really existed outside of fairy tales.”“This is all my fault,” Robert said. “Aaron’s in danger because of me. Even if he does somehow get out of this, he shouldn’t be anywhere near me from now on.”Kat stared at him. “You can’t end it,” she said bluntly. “You were going to marry him this morning!”“I love him,” Robert said. “I do, so much. Enough that keeping him safe has to come first.”“Robert…”“I’ve been so selfish, right from the beginning,” Robert said. “He had a life. A good one, but I saw him and I wanted him. I didn’t care what it’d do to him, how being with me would destroy him. Because I was so selfish…”“I think he had some say in this as well,” Kat said. “I know Aaron. He wouldn’t be with you if he didn’t want to be.”“Maybe,” Robert said. “Maybe he just likes being protected and safe. Maybe he likes the house. Maybe I’m just good in bed.”“Right, I need you to stop with all the self pitying crap,” Kat said. “You know Aaron loves you, when you’re in the right frame of mind.”Robert was stopped from replying by his phone ringing, which he fumbled to answer. “Yes?”“Got a postcode for you,” a male voice said. Robert listened intently, repeating it to Kat who typed it into her phone’s sat nav.“You better pray he’s all right,” Robert said.“I didn’t sign up for murder,” the male voice said, before it was cut off and the call ended.“Drive,” Robert said to Kat firmly. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Come on, you can go faster than that,” Robert muttered.“I’m already going ten miles over the speed limit,” Kat countered. “And I’m American, so I’m driving on the wrong side of the bloody road!”Robert stopped talking to her, not wanting to distract her concentration. The last thing they needed was to get into a car crash. She turned right sharply, down a farm track and Robert kept biting down on his bottom lip, Aaron’s habit. He needed Aaron safe, nothing else mattered. It was a rocky track, probably destroying his car, but he didn’t care. Kat drew it to a stop outside a dilapidated barn, and Robert hurried out of the car, running to the barn. The door was stiff, but it did move, painfully slowly.“Aaron!” It was as if things were happening in slow motion, he saw Aaron laid on his side, unconscious, shirtless and attached to a drip. He moved as fast as he could, but it felt so slowly until he was at Aaron’s side. He touched his face, then recoiled in horror. Aaron felt cold. “No, no, please God no,” he whispered to himself. “Please.” He put his fingers to the pulse in Aaron’s neck, and found it. He was alive.He had no idea if medically it was the right thing to do, but Robert pulled the needle from his arm, wanting, needing it to stop pumping poison into Aaron’s body. A bead of blood came from his arm but no more, so that was good. Maybe, was it? Robert had no idea. Distantly he could hear Kat making phone calls. Police, ambulance, Robert didn’t care.“Please look at me,” Robert begged, his hands cradling Aaron’s face, carefully because he could see a red bruise on his jaw, not fully formed yet. He hoped it had the chance to turn blue. “I need to see your eyes once more, please.” Kat moved behind them and started fiddling with the ties binding Aaron’s wrists. It was hard going, the knot was tight where Aaron had clearly been pulling, his skin swollen and inflamed too. But she managed it, all the while Robert whispering to Aaron, urging him to open his eyes.Robert thought he saw movement, a little frown on Aaron's forehead. His usual scowl. “Look at me,” he demanded. “I saw you move, look at me.”“m cold…” Aaron whispered, not opening his eyes. Robert quickly shed his jacket and covered Aaron’s body with it. He had felt cold. But he was speaking, he was here. He was alive.“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” Robert said, a palm to his face. “I need you on this planet.”“Soft.” Robert smiled, actually smiled. The first time in hours. Hours that felt like years.“Now look at me,” Robert said. Aaron forced his eyes open, but Robert could see it was difficult, his eyes slipping in and out of focus.“Head spinning.”“You’ll be okay,” Robert reassured him, hands still to his face. “I promise.”“Did you pay?” Aaron’s blue eyes were trying to focus on him, but it’s difficult.“Had to get you back, didn’t I?” Robert said, trying for off hand.“Robert, can you… kiss me?” Aaron looked almost embarrassed to be asking, but Robert had never heard anything sweeter. He closed the gap and kissed Aaron gently, slowly. Aaron wasn’t as responsive as normal, a bit uncoordinated but he made a little moan in his throat at the contact.“Thought I’d never see you again,” Aaron said quietly, his eyes betraying his fear more than his voice did.“Yeah,” Robert said, voice shaking as he felt like he might fall apart, his fingers lacing through Aaron‘s hair. “Me too.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It only took a couple more minutes for both paramedics and police to turn up, almost simultaneously. Aaron had lost consciousness again, but Robert kept a hand on his neck, feeling the reassuring throb of his pulse against his fingertips. It was more likely to be sleep from exhaustion Robert was informed, and that he could live with. What he didn’t like was the police pulling him away while Aaron was loaded onto a stretcher, asking him questions. Robert answered them, or tried, most of his attention was on Aaron. He got the impression that they were giving him a warning for disrupting a police investigation, but Robert couldn’t care less right now. Kat gave them all the practical information, but Robert was too distracted to. He managed to shake the police officers, making it clear they’d have to arrest him to stop him going in the ambulance with Aaron.In the hospital, Robert was shooed out, so the police officers could speak to Aaron alone. Robert didn’t mind in theory, but the forced separation after the day they’d both had didn’t make Robert more amenable to it. The good thing was Aaron looked like he was talking. Now the immediate danger was passed, Robert wanted those bastards to suffer. It wasn’t about the money, it was about what they’d clearly put Aaron through, and the fear Robert had been living under for hours.Once the officers were finished, Robert went in to Aaron’s private room, ignoring the security on the door that Robert had recruited almost instantly after Aaron was safe. Aaron looked tired, but awake, and he smiled weakly at Robert. Robert moved to kiss his forehead but Aaron tilted his head up pointedly. Robert smiled and kissed Aaron’s lips softly. “How are you?” he asked.“Doing okay,” Aaron said. “They want to keep me in overnight just to check that mad obsessive freak didn’t give me any other drugs.”“What happened?”“I’m okay,” Aaron said. “She… this Leah woman, I think she’s obsessed with you. She had a major problem with you marrying a man. And she liked to… taunt me I guess. She said a lot of things and… I’ll get over it.”“What did she say to you?” Robert asked. Aaron shrugged. “No, don’t give me that. I want to know.”Aaron sighed, but gave an overview of it, repeating some of the things she‘d said. He didn’t want to hide anything from Robert. “The worst was… when she saw my scars on my chest. She made me feel… dirty and ashamed. I guess it was… not knowing what she was capable of. What she’d do to me. And… I thought she was going to kill me at the end. When I had that needle attached to my arm, I was still aware. Um… I couldn’t move, but I knew they were there. And I thought I’d never see you again.” His voice wobbled and Robert squeezed his hand gently, wanting to offer him whatever comfort he could, but not sure his touch would be welcome. He was in little doubt for much longer, because Aaron moved across on the hospital bed, looking at Robert. Robert couldn’t resist, was powerless to, and he lay next to Aaron holding him gently, their bodies pressed tightly together.“Supposed to be our wedding night, after all,” Aaron said, trying to make light.“I can’t joke yet,” Robert said. “I can’t, after the fear of not knowing if you’d be okay, I…”“Ssh, it’s okay,” Aaron soothed, stroking his hair. “I’m okay, we’re both fine.” Robert allowed himself the reassurance, even knowing that it couldn’t last. He couldn’t put Aaron in this kind of danger again, Aaron was too special and far too important. But for now, he pressed his nose into Aaron’s neck, breathing him in. It didn’t take long for Aaron to fall asleep again, and once he was, Robert kissed his stubbled cheek gently, half of him wondering if this was goodbye. Carefully, Robert got up, seeing Chas standing outside the room, looking through the window.“How is he?” Chas asked.“Shaken,” Robert said, closing the door to leave Aaron in peace. “But I think he’ll be okay in the long run. Got an update from police?”“Yeah,” Chas said, though her tone meant it was nothing good. “The number plates were fake, duplicated off a pensioner in Devon. There’s no way to trace them.”“The police told you that, did they?” Robert asked.“It’s what they’re not saying,” Chas said, shaking her head. “Why did you pay them?”“They’d have probably killed Aaron if I hadn’t,” Robert said. “It wasn’t even a choice.”“You said you’d protect him,” Chas said bitterly, the accusation there in her voice. “You said you’d keep him safe.”“I know,” Robert replied. “And I am so sorry, but it won’t happen again.”“Won’t it?” Chas said.“No,” Robert said surely. “He is too important, I cannot live another day like this one, it'll destroy me. And probably him too.” Chas frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”“Just… let’s wait until tomorrow,” Robert said evasively. “Things might look better after a good nights sleep.” She didn’t argue, everyone was exhausted. Robert went back into the hospital room to sit with Aaron. He needed to be near him if he was going to have the strength to leave him. A statement that didn’t make much sense, but that was how he felt. In the morning, Chas had dropped off a change of clothes for Aaron and he was being discharged, the doctors having agreed that he had nothing sinister in his system. Robert’s back ached from having spent a night in an uncomfortable chair, the pain almost keeping him grounded. He wanted to kiss Aaron, badly, but he resisted the temptation. But Aaron knew him too well.“What’s wrong with you?” Aaron asked, zipping his hoodie up.“Just… stressed,” Robert said. Aaron looked at him, as if daring him to lie, but then let it go. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you.” Robert knew he had to do it now. If he waited until they got home, the resolution he’d come to would break. Because he and Aaron were so comfortable at Home Farm, if Robert had that presence back with him, he’d never willingly be able to part with him.“About what?” Aaron asked warily. He didn’t like the look on Robert’s face one bit, but couldn’t place it. Usually, he could guess what subject Robert was about to talk about, but not right now.“I think…” Robert cleared his throat. “Maybe we rushed things. It’s er…”“Spit it out,” Aaron said. Why, why did Robert pick now to notice how bloody gorgeous Aaron’s eyes were? Blue, sparkling, expressive and… God. He could fall in love with those eyes alone.“I want you to have a long and happy life, and I just don’t see that happening, when you’re with me,” Robert said sadly, knowing he was doing this to protect Aaron, because it was what was best.“Don’t talk rubbish,” Aaron said. “I am happy with you. Unless this is you telling me you don’t love me any more.” Robert didn’t speak, the seconds ticking by and breaking Aaron’s heart, his face falling with the realisation that that was exactly what Robert was meaning. “Oh, you’re…” he said when he could find words again. “Right,” he said, eyes at the floor. “Okay. Well, I’m alive and safe, your conscience is clear. You can leave now.”“Aaron…” Robert said softly. This had been the plan, to leave Aaron, but he hadn’t expected that look of utter heartbreak on Aaron’s face. And the hollow pit in his own chest either. “It’s not…”“I’ll manage without you Rob,” Aaron said shortly, staring at the ceiling. “Did before, and I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. You to find someone better, someone easier. Go.”“Aaron, there’s no one else.”“Then why’re you throwing us away?” Aaron asked. “I thought… doesn’t matter. Clearly I was wrong.”“Aaron…”“Leave before I make you!” Aaron said through gritted teeth, fists clenching. “I can’t look at you, its…” Aaron tailed off, determined not to cry in front of Robert, he wouldn’t give him that. Robert looked Aaron up and down, nodded once and left the hospital room. Only when he was alone, did Aaron allow the sob in his throat to escape, the devastation overwhelming him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Aaron called a taxi to take him home. Or rather, to the Woolpack. Robert had made it as clear as he could in the limited time Aaron had given him that he wasn’t welcome in his home any more. And he had to call from a payphone in the hospital, as his mobile phone was in a plastic bag for “evidence” right now. For a few seconds, Aaron felt completely alone and he hated it. Usually alone was good, because it calmed him down, he didn’t have to pretend to be “fine” to anyone.The doctors discharged him, but reluctantly. They’d given him the all clear, but they read into Aaron’s black mood as a side effect of being drugged, which it wasn’t. It was a side effect of Robert ditching him. Just the day after they were supposed to get married? Lucky escape some would call it. Aaron knew he was in a little bit of shock after the last twenty four hours, and everything that had happened, unable to fully absorb it yet. Going to get married, being kidnapped, being drugged, Robert saving him, Robert dumping him… yeah, busy day.It was only when the taxi driver asked for the fare, parked outside the pub the Aaron realised he had no money on him, no ID, nothing. He told the driver to hang on, and got his mum to cover the fare, feeling slightly embarrassed that apparently, no, he wasn’t too old to have his mum bail him out.“Hiya love,” Chas said brightly, trying to hide her surprise at Aaron on her doorstep as they went through to the back room. “I didn’t think Robert would let you out of his sight today.”“Yeah, I did too,” Aaron said. “Been kicked out.”“You what?” Chas asked, not following in the slightest.“Robert ended it this morning,” Aaron said briefly, looking at the table. “I don’t really want to think about it.”“But… why?” Chas asked. That did not match up with the man who was losing his mind the day before.“What do you care, you hate Robert,” Aaron said, moving to make himself a cup of tea, anything to keep his hands from shaking.“I don’t like him,” Chas said. “But I’m not blind either. He adores you, I don’t believe he’d just leave you. He wanted to marry you yesterday!”“Well, a lot can happen in a day,” Aaron grumbled. “I can’t… I… Oh, God, it’s over.” It was almost as if it was finally hitting Aaron and he couldn’t stop the tears from coming, overflowing. Chas pulled him into a hug, and he sobbed. Robert got back to a large empty house. Before Aaron had become a permanent fixture in his life, the house had been fine for him alone. But now it seemed far too big for just him. And Aaron’s presence was everywhere in the house, his beers in the fridge, his cheap shower gel in the bathroom, his clothes in the wardrobe. And flung on the back of every chair he could find. Like he was going to come back to it imminently. Not to mention his rusty project of a car in the garage. And his drivable car. And… “Oh God, what have I done?” Robert told himself. No. It’s to keep him safe, it’s so that yesterday will never happen again. So Aaron can live his life out of danger, and because of that it had to be the right thing to do.He found the box with their engagement rings still in, and sighed. They were meant to be their wedding rings, to sit on their fingers for the rest of their lives. Robert suddenly couldn’t bear not to be wearing his own, so he slipped it onto his finger. In that moment, it seemed almost irrelevant that his relationship with Aaron was over, he needed to feel like he belonged to him. Anyway, he’d bought them, he could wear it if he wanted to. Robert was withdrawn from his thoughts be a buzz at the front gate. He quickly answered it, needing a distraction.Kat. He waited until she came into the house, and she almost instantly frowned at Robert when she saw him. “You got him home safe, what’s with the miserable face?”“I um… I left Aaron.”“Left him where?” Kat asked. “At the hospital?” Then she looked at Robert and realised what he was actually saying. He looked pale, tired and depressed, and she put the pieces together. “No,” she said. “You can't have. Just… why?!”“Kat… I love him,” Robert said, but she wasn’t done.“Right, how thick are you?” Kat asked bluntly and loudly.“Don’t.”“You dumped Aaron, are you completely out of your mind?!” Kat shook her head. “I should give you a slap around the head, knock some sense into you!”“It’s not because I don’t love him,” Robert said.“Obviously,” Kat interjected. “I know you love him. So what are you playing at?”“He could have died yesterday, Kat,” Robert said, going through to the lounge and laying on the sofa, Kat followed him, curling up on the arm chair. “If he had, it would have been entirely my fault. And I can’t live with that, being the reason Aaron‘s in danger from crazed obsessives? No.”“I’m guessing you didn’t tell Aaron the real reason you’ve abandoned him,” Kat said.“I’ve not abandoned him,” Robert said. “It’s… no, I didn’t tell him.”“Why?”“Because he’d have stayed with me,” Robert said. “He never values his own safety, so I have to. This is the only time I’ve really been selfless in my whole life,” Robert said quietly. “I love him enough to let him go, as long as he’s safe.”“You’re an idiot,” Kat said. “You should have left the choice to him.”“He’d have brushed it off,” Robert said. “I know him so well, he would have.”“Yeah,” Kat said softly. “And if I were him, I would have too. Do you know how rare it is to have someone you love and who loves you? I wouldn’t care if it lasted five minutes, or five decades, I‘d hang onto it for as long as I could.”“Speaking of, why are you still single?” Robert said, changing the subject.“Rob…”“Go on, give me a distraction.” Kat rolled her eyes, but did as he asked, talking about her own life for a few minutes. Aaron walked down the drive to Home Farm, car keys gripped tight in his hand. He was going to pack his car with some of his stuff, then drive back down to the pub, where he was clearly going to spend the night. Or the next few nights. He felt wrong using his keys to the house, so he knocked. When Robert answered, he felt his breathing stop for a minute. It was all too easy to forget how gorgeous Robert was when he saw him every day. When Aaron had him to wake up to every single day, to count his freckles, to kiss along his perfect skin…. Aaron cut that off right now. Robert wasn’t his, though the soft way he said “hi” didn’t help Aaron right now.“I’m just here to pick up some of my stuff,” Aaron said. “Give you back your key.”“Aaron, you don’t have to…” Robert started.“Did you break up with me this morning?” Aaron asked, almost staring him down.“Well… yes, but…”“Do you want me?” Aaron asked. The look in Robert’s eyes had him doubting it. Robert was looking at him like there was nothing he wanted more. But surely that couldn’t be right. Robert’s an actor, Aaron reminded himself.“Not any more,” Robert said, and Aaron knew it must be his imagination that was making Robert’s voice sound hollow. Aaron looked at the floor as Robert cleared his throat. “Look, keep your key,” Robert said. “I’m leaving anyway, you can come and get your stuff while I’m down in London.”“London?”“That read through I told you about? They want to start filming quickly, so I’m not going to be here. It’ll be easier for you not to see me around the village. Gives you time to get your things.”“Why did you pay for me?” Aaron asked. “Surely it was a simple solution, have someone else get rid of me. I mean, if you were ending it anyway.”“I’d like to think ending a relationship isn’t in the same league as standing by and doing nothing while someone’s trying to kill you.”“Fair enough,” Aaron said. They were interrupted by Kat bouncing into the hallway.“It’s good to see you conscious,” she said to Aaron.“Just grabbing my stuff.” Aaron escaped into the bedroom, needing some air, an escape. He chucked things into a bag, haphazardly, needing to get away from the house. It held too many memories. The door opened, but it wasn’t Robert, it was Kat. “What’d you want?” Aaron asked harshly.“Don’t be too hard on Robert,” she said, perching on the edge of the bed. “You’ve no idea what he went through when you were kidnapped.” Aaron ignored this. “For what it’s worth, he’s being a total idiot.”“That I agree with,” Aaron said. “No offence, but what do you want?”“I think you need a break. Why don’t you come with me to Paris?” Kat suggested.“You know, it’s been some time since I’ve been propositioned by a woman,” Aaron said with a forced smile. Good to know he could still smile.“I have to go,” Kat said. “Got a photo shoot for Vogue, so it’s all expenses paid, could come and have a break. From here, from Robert. Think about what you really want.” Aaron thought about it, but there wasn’t really much of a choice, was there. It wasn’t like he had much holding him here, was it?“Yeah,” Aaron said. “What the hell, lets be impulsive.” Kat beamed. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Right, before we go any further, Robert is not a subject for discussion,” Aaron said firmly. He and Kat were sat on the plane, getting ready for take off, Aaron half wondering if he’d gone mad, agreeing to go to Paris with a supermodel slash actress. When he looked at it from that perspective it was such a strange situation to have gotten himself into. A nobody of a Yorkshire lad, ending up like this...“But…”“Kat, I mean it,” Aaron said. “He’s made it pretty clear where he stands. I may not be rich or famous, but I have enough self respect, and I’m not going to beg him.”“All right!” she said, holding her hands up. “You’re probably going to have my apartment to yourself for most of the time, that’s okay?”“Yeah,” Aaron said, they had already discussed this.“It’s got a good view though,” she said with a smile. She started rambling about the sites, and Aaron stopped her, covering her hand with his own.“You’re talking a lot,” Aaron noticed.“I don’t like flying,” she admitted. “Makes me feel… nervous.”“You’ll be fine,” Aaron said slowly, not negating her fears. “You must have flown loads.”“Well, yes,” she said. “But…” she shivered as the plane started taxiing on the runway. Aaron took her hand and gently rubbed her knuckles in what he hoped was comforting, at the same time wondering absently if her ring was a genuine ruby. Once they were in the air and level, Kat let his hand go.“You’re calming,” she said to him. “Never knew that about you.”“I think there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Aaron said easily.“I know enough, Robert tells me things. Or some things,” she added, seeing the look on Aaron’s face. “Vodka and coke, please,” she added to the flight attendant who’d started serving drinks in first class. Aaron didn’t mind first class in this instance, because he knew the magazine that wanted Kat’s photo shoot was paying for it.“Whisky,” Aaron ordered, off hand. Kat waited until Aaron had started drinking it before pointing out, “you know that’s what Robert’s drinks.”“And I thought I liked you,” Aaron said darkly. Kat just laughed. “I’ve not stayed here for a while, so it’s a bit of a mess,” Kat called as Aaron stood looking over the incredible flat. It actually reminded Aaron of Robert’s place in London. Clearly the minimalist look was “in.” That, and floor to ceiling windows. She’d been right, it had an excellent view of the Eiffel Tower.“This is yours?” Aaron asked.“Mm,” she said. “I needed a crash pad for Paris fashion week.” It was more than a crash pad and she must know that.“So what are we doing?” Aaron asked, suddenly uncomfortable. He was in someone else’s home, and he had no idea what to do with himself.“I’m going to touch up my make up, do my hair, then hit a night club,” Kat said. “You can do whatever you like, I’m not a baby sitter.”“I thought this was a distraction from Robert?” Aaron said.“No, I said you needed a break,” Kat called from the open door of the bathroom as she checked her hair. “Whether that involves seeing the sights of Paris, of getting plastered on whisky, it’s not my business.”“Want company?” Aaron asked.“Promise to vanish if I get lucky?”“This place has two bedrooms, right?” Aaron asked, making Kat laugh. “Yeah, I’ll disappear. As long as he’s good enough for you.”“And you’re a good judge of character are you?”“I’m a gay man,” Aaron said. “Who for a long time didn't want to be gay. I’ve spent a lot of time looking at men and sizing them up. Trust my opinions.”“Okay,” she said. “I might do that.” Aaron sat in the corner of the club, drinking his beer and watching Kat chat up men. It wasn’t his perfect idea of a good time, but sitting inside watching the world go by didn’t exactly thrill him either. Anything to keep him busy.“So, what do you think?” Kat asked, sitting down next to Aaron fifteen minutes later, replacing his empty beer with a new one.“Think about what?”“Those men,” she said, like it was obvious. “Which one would you say…”“That’s why I’m here is it? To objectify men with you?” Aaron asked, unable to be completely offended.“Aaron, I’ve been single for far too long,” Kat said. “And even if it doesn’t turn into anything, I could do with a bit of fun.” Aaron didn’t reply. “You can look,” Kat said to him. “Do more than look if you want, Robert ended it.”“I don’t want anyone else,” Aaron said instinctively, not liking the reminder. “Why don’t you call him?” Kat pushed. “If he’s who you want. I'm sure he'd like to hear from you.”“How would that conversation go?," Aaron asked bitterly. "Sorry you dumped me, im just checking in that you really meant it before I sleep with a Parisian.""Okay," Kat said, shaking her head. "Right, picking men for me,” she added, changing the subject.“The blonde,” Aaron said, not needing to consider it. He’d been watching Kat enjoying herself with those three men, and he had been looking. No harm in looking, even if the thought of someone other than Robert touching him made his skin crawl right about now.“Really?” she asked. “Thought you’d pick the dark tall guy.”“Well, we’re looking for you and not me,” Aaron said. “The blonde’s the fitter one.” Kat looked said man up and down and nodded.“You staying?” Kat asked.“No,” Aaron said. “Thanks for the attempt, but I’m not really in the mood.” He forced a smile, because it wasn’t Kat’s fault Robert had dumped him and he didn’t want to bring her down. She should be having fun.“Was bringing you here a horrible mistake?” Kat asked, studying him. He knew she meant Paris, not this particular night club.“No,” he said, really making an effort to be normal and forget that he missed Robert like someone had chopped his arm off. “No, I know what you’re trying to do, thanks.” Aaron hugged her tightly, enjoying the touch and the closeness of someone, even if it wasn’t the someone he really wanted. “I’ll see you at yours,” Aaron said. Kat nodded and let Aaron leave, Aaron finding the fresh air outside almost soothing. He should probably take the metro back to Kat’s apartment, but he didn’t mind the walk. He needed the exercise to almost clear his mind. Though nothing would help the ache in his heart where Robert should be. Aaron hadn’t slept well. A new bed, a strange city and a cold mattress on the other side of him all combined to make sure he didn’t rest for more than an hour or two at a time. At six o’clock in the morning, Aaron gave up and got up to make his coffee. He fumbled around Kat’s flat, not sure where everything was, but he got it going soon enough. He couldn’t think. Everything felt empty, he needed Robert. God, this hurt. No, focus on one thing at a time. Making coffee. Adding milk. And sugar. He didn’t usually have sugar, but he felt like he needed the energy right now.Aaron turned around to see a very nearly naked man rushing around the flat, picking up his clothes from where they'd been scattered. Aaron raised his eyebrows and this man stopped (who was indeed the blonde from last night Aaron had singled out). He looked at Aaron as his mouth turned into a silent O, eyes running around in panic.“Look, mate, she told me she was single, I didn’t know…”“What, Kat?” Aaron asked, with a little amusement. “No, I’m not with her, you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.”“No?” he asked, almost nervously.“No, I’m gay. Not got any interest in her, not like that, anyway. She’s a friend,” Aaron said.“Okay,” the stranger said, the tension leaving him a little as he threw a shirt on, covering a tanned fit body. Robert was fit, but not tanned and... Aaron stopped that line of thought.“You got a name?” Aaron asked pleasantly.“William. Will,” he said.“Aaron.”“Just friends?” Will asked, as if wanting to confirm this.“Yeah,” Aaron said. “She awake?”“No.”“So you’re sneaking out without seeing her?” Aaron asked, this time coldly.“She’s not going to want to see her drunk mistake the morning after, is she?”“Kat wasn’t drunk last night,” Aaron said. Yes, he’d not been there for the whole time, but she was only slightly buzzed when Aaron himself had left. About an hour after he’d got back to her flat, Aaron had heard the door go. She couldn’t have been that drunk.“Look, she’s gorgeous, she’s not going to want to see me,” Will said. Aaron was forcibly reminded of himself, the first time he’d slept with Robert. Sneaking out, so as not to have the humiliation of the expected cold, awkward morning after conversation. William had the look of someone who knew his luck couldn’t last. Had I looked at that at the time? Aaron thought. Expecting reality to kick in, and Robert to leave him? Except he never had. Well, until very recently anyway.“At least give her the chance to kick you into touch,” Aaron suggested.“She’s got my number, she can call if she wants,” Will said with a shrug. He found his jacket, and put it on, giving Aaron a nod before he left. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “I need an explanation,” Vic demanded, bursting into Robert‘s house.“Can this wait, I’m due in London,” Robert said tiredly.“Why’re there pictures of Aaron in a Parisian nightclub?”“Because he’s in Paris?” Robert tried to joke. She’d only just caught him, he was literally about to get in his car and drive south to London.“And he’s not wearing his engagement ring,” Vic said. Ah. So the press had picked up on that little bit had they? The kidnapping had (thankfully) been kept under their hats, and hadn’t become fodder for the newspapers. But Aaron seen without his engagement ring couldn’t be good news for the interest of the press.“I split up with him,” Robert said heavily.“Why?” Vic asked, appalled. “I’d heard rumours, but… you don’t pay half a million for someone you’re planning to dump.” Robert sighed. “And you’re still wearing your ring, so you still love him. And don’t even try to tell me you don’t.”“Wasn’t going to,” Robert said. “I love him, I will always love him, but I can’t be with him. And I’m late.” He held up his car keys in explanation.“Robert!” Vic shouted after him. He ignored her. “Robert, you’ve got to pull yourself together,” It was a week later, he’d been in London filming for that entire time. Or trying to, he was way off his game. He knew he was very close to being replaced, name recognition and the fee he commanded aside. He was doing a shit job, and he didn’t think they’d filmed much that was actually usable. The director was running out of patience. Robert had worked with Daniel before on a couple of films, and Robert knew it was only that relationship that hadn’t had him chucked off the set already.“Sorry, Daniel. My heads all over the place,” Robert said honestly.“Then get therapy, or fix whatever it is. I need you on top form, you’re usually so reliable. I can’t stop them from axing you completely, Robert,” he added in an undertone. “I can only delay it.”“Look, I’m having some… personal problems,” Robert said. “It’s getting in my head.”Daniel looked at him and shrugged. “And we’re haemorrhaging thousands for each day you screw up on this film. Do you want me to replace you?”“No,” Robert said. It was all he had going for him right now. He’d just have to forget about Aaron and try to focus, it was his only option. “No, I’ll fix it,”” Robert promised. He hoped he could keep that promise. “Oh God,” Kat said under her breath. She had her ipad open and was scanning through the gossip columns. But her tone was more serious than that required.“What?” Aaron asked, deciding to bite. It had been a week since Kat’s one night stand, and she’d done her photo shoot over three exhausting days, leaving Aaron pretty much to his own devices. And the slow time had been good for him to slowly accept the new reality. No Robert, not a good happy life any more. He’d probably have to go back to his garage job now. Have a normal life, without Robert in it.“Robert’s been thrown off his film set,” Kat said.“What?” Aaron said with a frown, moving to read the article. “No. Robert doesn’t lose his temper, or not at things like that. He knows it’s a job.” Aaron read, the only interesting bit other than the headline was “… due to personal problems. Robert Sugden’s fiancé, Aaron Dingle hasn’t been seen in public lately, and was last spotted in Paris, conspicuously on his own. And without a ring.” Aaron stopped reading, because the speculation was useless to him.“What would make him do that?” Aaron mused quietly. “It’s not booze or drugs unless he’s changed beyond all recognition since I last saw him.”Kat just stared at him. “Are you that thick?” she said bluntly.“What’re you talking about?” Aaron asked.“It’s you!” she snapped, annoyed that Aaron hadn’t come to this realisation on his own. “He is heartbroken over you, you idiot.”“He ended it,” Aaron said. “He can’t be that heartbroken.“He ended it because he loves you too much to see you get hurt over and over again. Which is what he thinks will happen,” Kat said. “He’s being protective and trying to do the right thing. God knows why, he’s never done the right thing before.”“No, I’m not following,” he said after a moment.“Aaron!” she shouted at him, completely exasperated. “Do you think so little of yourself?” Aaron was bewildered. “You have no idea what he was like when he realised you’d been taken.”“Wasn’t a walk in the park for me either,” Aaron interjected.“But you didn’t have to worry about him,” Kat said. “You only had to worry about yourself. He was going through hell. He’d talked himself into the fact you were already dead at one point. I have never seen him like that before, he was devastated.” Aaron took a few minutes to actually think about this. He hadn’t before, because so soon after regaining consciousness, Robert was finishing it between them. He hadn’t even thought about how he’d cope if it was the other way around. If Robert were in danger, and he had no idea if he were even alive, or being tortured… it would drive Aaron mad.“Aaron, your kidnappers are still out there, they haven’t been caught. Which makes Robert think you’re in danger as long as you’re with him. He still loves you, of course he does. He‘s just being stupid and… well, Robert.”“Robert, selfless?” Aaron asked. “Doesn’t sound like him. He sees what he wants and gets it more often than not.”“Yeah,” Kat said. “So think about how much this means. How much you mean to him.” Aaron rolled his eyes, but his mind was ticking over, fast. If that was true… if Robert pushed him away to keep him safe, then he was an idiot. But it also meant that just maybe there was hope. For the first time in days, he felt hope.“Speak of the devil,” Kat said, her phone ringing. Aaron could see upside down that it was Robert. “I know he’s my friend, but the two of you need your heads banging together, so I’m going to put him on speaker. Don’t say anything,” she warned to Aaron. He nodded, now curious rather than feeling hostile.“Hiya,” Kat said, answering the call. “I hear you’ve been hard to work with lately.”“Don’t start,” Robert said glumly. Aaron felt a sudden shock of want, just from his voice. It had been a while since he’d heard Robert, and his memories after coming out of his drugged state were hazy and not at all pleasant either. Though the memory of holding Robert close to his body was still a strong one. “I’ve already had the director and two producers lecturing me this morning, I don’t need you to pile on.”“Switch off your personal life,” Kat suggested. “You always have before.”“I can’t,” Robert said. “I miss Aaron so much, it…”“Here’s a novel thought,” Kat said. “Call him!”Robert sighed incredibly heavily. Aaron could almost imagine the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I’m starting to think you’re right,” Robert said. “I can’t go on like this. Even just to hear him shout at me.”“Why would he shout at you?” Kat asked, rolling her eyes at Aaron.“I ended it without even telling him the real reason. He’s so angry with me, he thinks I don’t care and I can’t get his face out of my mind.”“Careful, I’m starting to get lovesick myself,” Kat warned.“Yeah, I know, I sound pathetic,” Robert said. “And I’ve got an all night filming tonight, God knows how I’m going to manage it.”“Seriously now, how long’ve you got before you’re out of work?”“Probably another three days,” Robert said. “Maybe four or five if I’m persuasive. And you know something, I don’t even care. Why’d they have to wreck it? Things were good with Aaron, why did some random kidnappers have to destroy it. There’s no word of them by the way, it’s like they’ve vanished into thin air. I need Aaron safe more than anything and that won‘t happen if he‘s with me. I’m too well known, I…” Aaron reached for the phone and Kat batted his hand away.“Do you want me to come to London?” Kat said.“No,” he said. “I’ll only moan at you, and it’s not going to fix anything either.”“Okay,” Kat said. “If you’re sure.”“Yeah, I should go anyway,” Robert said. “How is Aaron?”“Aaron?” she asked, aware the man in question was listening.“Yeah, he’s with you isn’t he? He’s safe, right?!”“Yes, he’s fine,” Kat said. “Well, he isn’t. The love of his life dumped him for no reason.”“I had a reason.”“No good reason,” Kat added.“I have to go,” Robert said. “See you Kat.” She hung up and looked at Aaron.“What am I meant to do now?” Aaron asked.“Did you hear him?” Kat asked. “He’s heartbroken.”“It was his choice!” Aaron snapped.“Stand up and fight for what you want,” Kat said. “Don’t let a few psychopaths win! He wants you, he would have married you if they hadn’t got in the way. Robert’s just having a fit of morals, it won’t last long until he’s calling you.”“Kat, stop interfering,” Aaron warned.“He needs you,” Kat said, ignoring this. “And more importantly for you, you need him, I know you do. You both love each other, there is nothing stopping you from being together.”“What do you suggest I do?”“The Eurostar leaves Gare Du Nord every hour. You could be in the centre on London in three hours if you wanted to be. Robert’s not that far away from you.” Kat smiled at him. She already knew what Aaron would do. And even if Aaron didn’t want to admit it to himself, so did he. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Unfortunately it was a long train ride, which meant Aaron had plenty of time to talk himself out of the fact that this was a good idea, because Kat was clearly playing God. Wanting her two friends to be together. Robert might not want to see him at all, Aaron could be about to humiliate himself.He still had the haunting voice of that woman telling him “how could Robert want you?” as her fingers had traced his self harm scars, her touch disgusting to him. It was a powerful thing, because it was how Aaron himself felt most of the time. His damaged body wasn’t perfect, far from it, and she’d hit a sensitive point of his, probably without even knowing it. It had been at least one reason why it was so easy to believe Robert when he’d ended it. Because of course he would, Aaron was damaged, defective.Anyway, it was done now. He was already on the Eurostar, he had no choice but to go to London. Kat had helpfully supplied Aaron with the address where Robert was filming. “Just in case you need it,” she had said with wide doe eyed innocence that fooled absolutely no one. Not even Will who she’d known five minutes and who had popped up again before Aaron had left Kat’s flat.One thing that did give Aaron pause was he didn’t have Robert’s number. His phone, his old phone was in evidence for his kidnapping, and he hadn’t got Robert's number in his new phone. It left Aaron feeling a bit disconnected. He couldn’t even call Robert and let him know he was coming. Or warn him, if Robert didn’t want to see him. Aaron sighed and rested his head against the seat, the miles ticking down until London. And Robert. Robert was getting his make up touched up, having finally got a few scenes done and dusted that the crew and particularly the director were happy with. Not that he missed Aaron any less, he didn’t. But he was becoming more able to put his personal life, his real life in a box, and lock it up while he was working. Much to the relief of everyone else, and the atmosphere on set had lightened considerably. When Aaron got back in the country, Robert knew he needed to see him. And if not that, call him. He wouldn’t be able to stay away for long, it had just taken a ten day absence or so to work it out. How had he ever thought it would be possible to lose Aaron for good? It wasn't. He couldn't even make it a few weeks.“Robert?” He turned and saw one of the extra’s nodding in the direction of the door. There were people everywhere, the hustle and bustle of a film set, and in the middle of it all stood Aaron, looking at him. He was shifty, clearly nervous, but he didn’t take his eyes off Robert, even as he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. Robert couldn’t stop looking at him, brushing off the make up girl and walking towards him.“Aaron, are you really here?” he asked.“Mm,” he said, still looking jumpy, like a flight risk.“Why?” Robert asked. Not that he was complaining, far from it. Aaron looked better than he remembered, filling out his hoodie well. Scruffy, gorgeous. Perfect.“Kat told me why you left me,” Aaron said. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”Robert sighed. “It wouldn’t have made any difference to you,” he said sadly.“No, it wouldn’t,” Aaron said. “You still sticking to it, or have you realised you’re being an idiot?”“Aaron…”“I don’t want to let them win,” Aaron said. “At the risk of making a complete fool of myself, if you…” Aaron couldn’t go on. He didn’t talk about his feelings at the best of times, and he felt highly aware that a room full of extras and film crews and script editors were all staring at him, having stopped what they were doing. Robert closed the gap between them even further, trying to keep Aaron’s focus solely on him. It half worked, Aaron’s eyes returning to his. “Why did you run from me?” Aaron asked very quietly.“Because I was scared for you,” Robert said forcefully. “It’s not because I don’t love you, Aaron. I do, so much.” Aaron’s eyes had brightened at that, sparkling with joy, though he hadn’t changed expression. Robert knew that was what Aaron needed to hear, knew he’d reassured him and took the risk. Robert kissed him, intending it to be gentle, but it turned out nothing near it. Aaron’s lips were warm, soft, familiar, wanting. And more importantly, Robert hadn’t had this touch in ten days, feared losing it forever. God, it felt so good to kiss him, and the embrace got deeper, Aaron’s hand threading through his hair, keeping him close, his other hand on Robert’s hip, bodies flush together. Robert ran his hands over Aaron’s body, whichever part of him he could reach, needing him, needing the warmth. He didn’t care who was watching, and even Aaron didn’t seem to mind. They drew back for breath, but neither of them were finished, Aaron having a tiny smile before his lips reattached to Robert’s, groaning into his mouth. Robert felt his heart race, even as he knew this couldn’t go on. They were in far too a public place. He pulled back with difficulty, both of them breathing heavily.“Go to my flat,” Robert said. “I’ll be done as soon as I can,” he promised.“I don’t have a key,” Aaron whispered. “It’s with all my stuff at home.” Robert was dressed ready to film, so he had none of his personal effects on him. Which meant he had to pull back from Aaron, inwardly groaning as everyone else suddenly remembered that they were busy, not supposed to be watching the pair of them.“Not sure I like you with make up on,” Aaron tried to joke as Robert handed him the key.“How did you even get in here?” Robert asked, his voice almost hushed. Like if he spoke too loudly, Aaron would turn into a figment of his imagination and vanish. “Security’s tight.”“I have methods of persuasion,” Aaron teased, again chewing his bottom lip.“You’ll have to show me those methods some time,” Robert said darkly, voice full of lust.“We’re not fixed,” Aaron warned.“I know,” Robert said. “But I don’t have the time right now to talk, I’m meant to be working.”“Get to it, then,” Aaron said. Robert kissed his cheek softly once more before he allowed the assistant director to pull him off, his heart a lot lighter than before. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It was past two in the morning when Robert got back to his flat. He hurried and found Aaron on his bed, their bed, still fully dressed obviously trying to wait up for him, but hadn’t managed it. Robert smiled at him, looking so right, so perfect. Exactly where he belonged. Robert stripped until he wore a T shirt and his underwear before crawling into bed with Aaron. They still had things to discuss, but they could wait. He covered Aaron with the duvet, then allowed himself to sleep. In the morning, Robert woke five minutes before Aaron, and spent that time watching the man he loved in complete relaxation. He had thought he’d never get this again, firstly through those bloody kidnappers, secondly through his own stubbornness and bloody mindedness. He was glad he didn’t have the determination to stick to it. Though Aaron had come looking for him, Robert had known it wouldn’t be long until he’d done exactly the same. He planned on telling him that.When Aaron’s eyes flickered open, Robert offered him a soft smile, which Aaron returned. Then reality set in, and the worry started, Robert could see it in the frown on his face. “We need to talk,” Aaron said.“I know,” Robert said, agreeing. “But breakfast first, yeah? You’re better on food.” Aaron smiled, that was so obviously true. Robert grabbed his hand, stopping when Aaron gasped. “What?”“Not quite healed yet,” Aaron said, pulling up the sleeve of his hoodie. Robert held in his own gasp with difficulty. Aaron had marks on his wrists, clearly from where the ropes had been digging in when he’d been kidnapped ten days ago. Was it really only ten days ago? It felt like a lot longer. The purple bruising had faded, but there were still red rings around his wrists, a stark reminder.“Food first,” Aaron said, ignoring whatever it was Robert was about to say. “Then talk.” Robert agreed easily, both of them going through to the kitchen.Once they had coffee and toast, they talked. About a lot of things, Aaron trying to understand how afraid Robert had been, how he’d tried to fix the situation the best way he could. While Robert heard just how abandoned Aaron had felt, having their engagement ending for no good reason that he could see at the time. It took a long time to talk themselves out, tears and raised voices at times, from them both. But when the conversation came to it’s inevitable end, they both felt clearer, more at ease with each other. Like they understood the other man better.“If you want to get rid of me, at least tell me the truth about why you’re ending it,” Aaron said.“I will,” Robert said, taking his hand carefully. “But I won’t. I won’t want to lose you, I was close to calling Kat to try and work out if you’d want to see me. I was going insane without you, and…”“I know,” Aaron said gently, cutting off his rambling. He felt it too.“Will you allow me to employ extra security?” Robert asked, squeezing his hand tightly. “At least until those maniacs are caught. I can’t be worried about you like this, it makes me go crazy.”“You let me go to Paris without security,” Aaron said. Then saw Robert looked shifty. “Robert…” Aaron growled.“Kat had people looking after her anyway,” he said in his defence. “What did it matter if there was one or two more just keeping an eye on you?”“How could you not tell me?” Aaron asked.“You’d have said no.”“No,” Aaron disagreed. “Not after the last few weeks, I wouldn’t. You weren’t the only one scared Robert. I thought I’d never see you again. I thought I’d never see mum, I’d never get to laugh with Adam again and…” his voice broke and Robert pulled him into a hug, enjoying the sensation as Aaron breathed him in, the closeness to Robert calming him down.“It’s okay, you’re safe,” Robert soothed. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”“But…”“They’ll catch them,” Robert said, pulling back.“Has there been any news?” Aaron asked. The police were meant to keep him informed, but as he’d been out of the country, he had no more knowledge than a week ago.“No,” Robert said. “Apparently banks have blackmail protocol, and I was meant to inform them for that large a cash amount so they could trace the serial numbers on the bank notes. Honestly, protocol for that?!” Aaron smiled a little.“You need to go,” Aaron told him. They both knew he had filming and after the terrible start of this film, he really couldn’t be late.“Are you going to be here when I get home?” Robert asked, his voice wavering in a way that gave away his nervousness.“Yes,” Aaron said. “Or in the city anyway, I might not stay in the flat all day.” Robert smiled, pleased that he was becoming more used to the inevitable press attention, even in spite of recent events.“Security,” Robert said.“Yes,” Aaron said. “But only until Leah’s caught. Okay?”“Okay,” Robert said, already dialling on his phone. He’d fight the argument of keeping the security after Leah was caught, when it came to it.Robert arranged security quickly and dressed, ready to leave for the studios. It was then that they shared a very tender kiss, less passion, more love.“Be here when I get back,” Robert almost begged. “I don’t have your number in my new phone,” Aaron said, needing it. Robert nodded and quickly put his information in Aaron's phone.“When I’m filming, my phones locked away, so I can’t reply to you instantly if you need me,” Robert said, suddenly worried. “It’s not me ignoring you, it’s my job.”“I understand,” Aaron said. “Now go, or you’ll never get there.” Robert smiled, and kissed him once more, a soft melding of lips together as Robert pushed his body close to Aaron‘s. For the first time since the kidnapping, Aaron felt the potent instant desire go through him for this man. If only they had the time.“Later,” Robert promised, feeling the pull too. Robert left and Aaron sighed at being left alone. It felt good to have Robert back, but there was no denying Robert was an intense man to be around. Some time alone would be good. Aaron decided to do the typical tourist thing, and he went on the London eye, an annoying man called Peter being his company for the day. Peter being the security that Robert had asked to have looking after him. Aaron hated to admit it, but he felt safer with someone looking out for potential insane “Leah’s”. It helped him relax more. Once he was on the wheel, he was sharing the pod with Peter, and a group of twenty something girls in a group, whispering behind their hands about him, rather obviously.“You’re Aaron Dingle, aren’t you?” the blonde short girl said with a winning smile. “With… Robert Sugden?”“Yes,” Aaron said dully. Great, he was now trapped in a confined space with some women who clearly knew exactly who he was.“Um, can we get a picture?” she asked.“What?” Aaron asked with a frown, not having expected that. “With me?”“Natalie over there thinks you’re gorgeous,” she said. The woman in question went a deep red, burying her face in her hands.“Er, yeah I guess,” Aaron said, completely thrown. He allowed the woman to click away with her phone for a bit, before shifting uncomfortably.“Are you still with Robert?” she asked him.“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Aaron asked.“No engagement ring,” she said sharply.“It’s er… being resized,” Aaron said, quickly inventing a plausible reason. It was none of their business why he currently wasn’t wearing it, though now his attention had been drawn to it, he couldn’t stop fiddling with the bare patch of skin.“What’s Robert like in real life?” one of the as yet silent women said. “Is he as good looking as he is in the movies?”“No,” Aaron said, deciding to have a little bit of fun, now that it seemed these women were relatively normal. “Better.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When Robert came back to the flat, he was on Aaron instantly, kissing him for all he was worth, demanding warm perfect mouth on his own. Aaron was surprised, but pleased with this reaction, Robert obviously turned on for him. “Been wanting you all day,” Robert whispered against his lips.“How was work?” Aaron asked.“No,” Robert said, shaking his head into another heated kiss. “Much better things to do with that mouth of yours.”“Oh, yeah, like what?” Aaron teased, a sparkle in his eyes.“Get on your knees,” Robert said in a filthy whisper before sucking his earlobe. Aaron suddenly felt nervous, unsure of himself, which was odd. The physical stuff was usually the uncomplicated side of their relationship.“Wait,” Aaron said, his hands on Roberts arms to stop him. Robert did, looking at him curiously. “I’m a bit… nervous, since that woman taunted me about…” Aaron’s hand went to his chest and Robert understood. “If you need to keep your shirt on, that’ll be fine,” Robert said. “If you don’t want to do anything else…”“I do,” Aaron said. “I’m just… being stupid,” he finished, feeling pathetic.“No, you’re not,” Robert said gently, the desire still there, but the urgent lust having faded a little. He put both hands to Aaron’s face, holding him gently. “Whatever you want.”“I want you,” Aaron said. He gripped Robert’s hand and pulled him to the bedroom. In the end, Aaron had nothing to be nervous about. They started in bed, before heading towards the shower, finishing on the kitchen table, because somehow they still had a fraction of energy left. Aaron found he couldn’t move, sticking to Robert’s body on top of his, and loving it. He’d almost forgotten how much of an intense lover Robert was. He made Aaron forget everything else except how it felt when Robert kissed him and touched him. Like he was the centre of Robert’s world.“All right?” Robert asked gently, as he got off Aaron, going to the fridge. “Well, we went to the kitchen for food,” he said. “Never actually got there.” Aaron smiled, getting off the table which was making his arse numb. He picked up a towel that had made it with them from the shower and wrapped it around his waist. Robert however had much higher self confidence, throwing Aaron a beer from the fridge without a stitch of clothing on.“Aren’t you going to put anything on?” Aaron asked pointedly.“Why, don't you enjoy the view?” Robert teased. Then he relented and threw on a pair of trackie bottoms that were hanging around from the last time Aaron had been here.“Happy?” Robert asked.“Yes,” Aaron said, and he meant more than about their state of undress. “I am.”Robert smiled at him slightly. “Will you wear your ring again?”Aaron could see Robert was nervous, and smiled at him. It wasn’t even a question for him, his hand felt bare without it. “Of course I will. You got it here, or is it back at home?”“It stayed with me,” Robert said. “It’s in the bedroom draws.” Robert left to get it, and within about a minute he’d returned, box in hand. Before Robert could put it back, Aaron felt the need to speak.“I promised you a long time ago that I wouldn’t run from you,” Aaron said. “I need you to promise me, that you won’t push me away.”“I promise,” Robert said, heartfelt. “I promise to always let you in, and to trust you, not to hurt you by shutting you out.” He took the ring, and looked into Aaron’s eyes before slipping the ring on, the permission in Aaron’s gaze. For some reason, this time it meant more, maybe because they’d been through so much more, both together and apart. “That’s better,” Robert said, looking at the ring.“It is,” Aaron agreed, looking into Robert’s eyes for a moment, before kissing him deeply.“I can’t go again,” Robert said quietly, sensing that Aaron wanted another round.“Lightweight,” Aaron teased. Robert made a fortunate grab, and Aaron whined, being far too sensitive.“And you can?” Robert asked.“All right, you’ve made your point,” Aaron grumbled. They both laughed, especially when Aaron’s stomach growled. “Shall we order a takeaway?” Robert said. “Not sure I can be bothered cooking.” Aaron nodded, whatever Robert wanted. “I can’t believe this.” Leah scrolled through her google search, and saw some new photos, of Robert Sugden and his useless fiancé. Being incredibly intimate in what looked to be Robert’s London flat. Leah clicked on the article, and started looking at the photos in more depth. They’d obviously been taken by a photographer shooting the camera at the large oversized glass windows, Robert enjoying his lover on the kitchen table. So distracted they hadn’t even pulled the blinds for some privacy. You couldn’t actually see much, beyond bare chests, but it was screamingly obvious what they were doing, the shots more intimate than pornographic.Leah felt a surge of jealousy go through her, hating that this man got to touch him like that. She knew she shouldn’t have listened to her brothers, leaving Aaron Dingle to walk away from them free and easy. She’d had the opportunity, and she’d changed her mind, because all her brothers wanted was the money and the quick pay out.They had (quite rightly) assumed that murder would mean they’d never get away with the money anyway. Leah didn’t care, she knew this was more than money for her. And the jealousy was driving her mad.She zoomed into one picture in particular, studying the look on Robert’s face as he looked at Aaron. So in love, like the world was in front of him. And Leah couldn’t stand it. No. She closed her laptop, her mind running a hundred miles an hour, because she had to get close to Robert Sugden again. It was just how… ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Have you seen this?!” Aaron snapped, shoving his ipad under Robert’s nose in the kitchen. Robert looked at the pictures online, both of them being in the middle of sex on the kitchen table. No, Robert hadn’t seen them, and he quickly scrolled through the pictures. When he got to the end of the article, he breathed a sigh of relief. They weren’t (thankfully) pornographic shots, but they were private, and Robert seethed that someone had thought it was perfectly fine to take pictures through the window of his flat.“I’ll get my agent to get onto the website publisher,” Robert said. “They shouldn’t be releasing images like that, it’s a violation of privacy.”“That’s all you have to say?” Aaron asked.“What would you like me to say?” Robert asked, getting up and placing his hands around Aaron’s waist, keeping him close, feeling the tension running through his body.“Do I regret having sex with you on this table last night? No. It’s not worth getting angry over, Aaron. They’ll be forgotten this time next week.”“Everyone I know will see them!” Aaron snapped, unable to believe Robert was taking this so calmly.“It’s not like we’re hiding,” Robert said, far too reasonably. “Aaron, I’m happy I’ve got you back, and we’re together,” he said seriously. “I will not allow one photographer and one website to spoil that.”“No, okay,” Aaron said, relenting. “I get your point. I just hate that there’s people out there who think it’s okay to take photos like that.”“There’s always idiots in the world, Aaron,” Robert said. He dipped his head and kissed him good morning, keeping it lingering and soft.“How long have we got to be in London for?” Aaron asked.“I have to be here for another six weeks of filming,” Robert said. “You don’t have to be here at all. You could go home if you want.” Though Robert isn’t thrilled at the prospect, just having got Aaron back in his life, the way they should be.“Yeah, right,” Aaron said sarcastically, to Robert‘s immense relief. “I’d miss you too much. I can’t be a couple of hundred miles away from you.”“I’m glad you said that,” Robert said with another kiss. Robert would have struggled with the distance too. “Now I have to get dressed and go to work. Don’t worry about the photos, I’ll sort it.”“Okay,” Aaron agreed. There wasn’t much of an alternative choice after all. Six weeks later. Robert pulled the car to a stop outside Home Farm, and for the first time in a couple of months, he felt right and finally at home. He might not be a married man, as they’d planned, but he had Aaron with him, happy, and life was looking good.Aaron was asleep in the passenger seat, having drifted off about an hour after Robert started driving on the motorway on the way up north. Robert had actively tried not to wake him, liking him like this, innocent, and somehow a lot younger in sleep. When he was awake and conscious, he seemed older than his years and Robert barely noticed the six year age gap between them. But now it seemed noticable.“Hey,” Robert said, reluctantly waking him. Or trying to. “Come on, Aaron, I’m not lugging all our suitcases into the house on my own.”“Mm?” Aaron asked, coming around. “Did I sleep all the way?”“How else do you think we got here?” Robert dead panned, nodding at the house. Aaron smiled tiredly. “Are you okay?” he asked, seeing Aaron just staring at the house.“Yeah,” he said, completely unconvincingly.“I’m the actor, not you,” Robert reminded him. Aaron wasn’t an overly good liar, especially to him.“It’s weird, being back here,” Aaron said. “The last time I was here, was before my stag night. Or…actually that’s not true. It was when I was getting my stuff when I thought you didn’t want me any more.” Robert felt the guilt roll over him for how he’d treated Aaron, even though he’d done it with the best of intentions. He knew he’d hurt Aaron, a lot.“I’m sorry,” Robert said sincerely.“I know you are,” Aaron said. “Still hurts though.”“What can I do?” Robert asked, feeling at a complete loss. “I was trying to keep you safe, I was trying to…” he sighed heavily.“I know,” Aaron said. “I just… if it was the other way around, I don’t know if I could have done it. Left you, because you were safer on your own than with me. I… I love you too much to ever think I could willingly let you go. And I suppose… I’ve been wondering if you love me the same way. If it's enough.”“I didn’t say it was easy,” Robert said quietly. “Seeing you tied up and unconscious on the floor, with that needle in your arm, knowing it was my fault… it has a way of realigning my priorities.”“Yeah, okay,” Aaron said, accepting that. He had no idea how he would react if he found Robert in that position, how it would effect him, so Aaron knew he couldn’t judge.“Let’s go inside.”“I could sell the house if you want,” Robert said easily, shrugging his shoulders. “If it has bad memories for you, just buy somewhere else.”“No,” Aaron said firmly. “I’m not letting that bitch win.” Robert smiled softly at him. “Plus… this house has some good memories too. Still remember you dragging me to the sofa to have your way with me. God, you were desperate.”“I was not desperate!” Robert said.“No, in my memory you definitely were,” Aaron said, the mood much lighter now. Robert put a hand on Aaron's thigh reassuringly.“Come on, let’s go inside. Get you moved in properly.”“Yes,” Aaron agreed. Two weeks later. “Robert, I’m five minutes away from getting on a flight, this better be good,” Kat said, the noise in the background making it clear that she was in an airport.“It’s not Robert, it’s Aaron,” he said gruffly. “Lost my phone somewhere in the house.”“Oh, hi,” she said warmly, and Aaron could almost see her smile. “So you got back with your good for nothing fiancé then?”“Well…”“Aaron, you’ve been silent for two months, since you left France,” Kat said. “You still in the honeymoon period, or has he started to become irritating again?”“I thought you wanted me to get back with him?” Aaron questioned.“I did,” Kat said, still amusement in her voice. “It’s good to see you and Robert happy.”“You said you were flying,” Aaron reminded her. “Leaving or arriving in the country?”“Madrid to London,” Kat said. “Why, what do you want?”“Have you got some free time?” Aaron asked.“Aaron, what do you want?” Kat repeated.“Can you keep your mouth firmly shut?”“Yes,” she said. “No one knows I’m seeing someone, so I can keep a secret if I need to.”“Is that William, the not so much of a one night stand kind of guy?” Aaron asked.“Keep your nose out,” Kat said, off hand. “Yes, I can keep a secret. What is it?”“Robert and I… we need a witness for our wedding on Friday. We wondered if…”“Where?” Kat asked eagerly. Aaron smiled into the phone. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “I, Robert Jacob Sugden, take you, Aaron Dingle to be my lawful wedded husband,” Robert said, relieved that after everything they’d got here, standing together in a registry office, vowing to spend their lives together. He took Aaron’s hand and slid the ring on gently, where it would stay for the rest of his life, all being well. “I promise I won’t push you away when I think I know best.” Aaron smiled, but let him continue. “Because I never know best, do I? I promise to always talk to you, to put you first in spite of everything that goes on in our hectic lives. I love you.” He squeezed Aaron’s hand, and he took the silent invitation that meant it was now his turn.“I, Aaron Dingle, take you, Robert Jacob Sugden to be my lawful wedded husband.” Aaron took the ring and carefully slid it on Robert’s finger, the smile on his face so clear, it made Aaron almost burst with happiness. “I promise to stay with you, to not run when things get bad. Which… they will.” Robert rolled his eyes but didn’t interrupt. “I love you so much and I… can’t imagine my life without you in it. After the past few months, I don’t want to try either.” They held each others left hands tightly, feeling the metal bands of their rings clearly.“I now declare you married. You may kiss your groom.” Both men were grinning so widely, it wasn’t more than a brief kiss, unable to stop the smiles for long enough. Present at their very small wedding ceremony were Kat, Vic, Adam (and baby Holly) and Chas, who’d made it perfectly clear if they made her stay away, they’d be barred from the Woolpack for life. They didn’t want a big event, they didn’t want it getting out to the media, especially with that mad woman still out there. So it had remained small, private and intimate. Perfect for the two of them.After signing the marriage licence, they all left, trouping back to the pub for a good old fashioned knees up. Aaron and Robert had a car with a driver, wanting a little alone time away from their families on the short drive. Neither man could remember being happier as they curled up together on the back seat, sharing soft kisses and gentle touches. “What did you do with the prenub?” Aaron asked quietly.“I told you not to sign that,” Robert whispered into his ear.“When do I listen to anything you say?” Aaron asked.Robert sighed, but carried on anyway. “I burnt it.” Aaron shouldn’t have, but he laughed. When they got to the Woolpack, it was a mess of noise, food and drink, a happy buzz in the air with all of the people who mattered there for them both. And Robert had never seen Aaron happier. It warmed him immensely to know he did that, he made Aaron happy.A little later Robert approached Kat in the pub and without saying a word, swapped her champagne glass for a flute filled with lemonade. Kat frowned at him when she sniffed it. “I don’t get to toast your wedding?” she asked, disappointed.“How far along are you?” Robert said, not answering the question.“I’m…” she sighed, looking at the floor. “How the hell can you tell? I made sure to pick a dress that doesn’t show my stomach off, that hides it.”“I’ve filmed with you, Kat. I know your body shape and to me, it's obvious.”“Aren’t you supposed to have eyes only for your husband?” she snapped.“Kat…” Robert said. “Are you happy?”“Haven’t told Will yet,” she said. “I don’t know how he’ll react to a baby, I mean, we’re so new…”“Weren’t you on any birth control?”“No,” she said firmly. “I haven’t been for my entire adult life.” Robert frowned at her. “When I was a teenager, doctors told me I had an incredibly rare chance of ever conceiving. I’m not going to go into the details, but I’ve always thought… if it happens, it happens. I always took the chance, thinking I‘d cope with it later.”“You’re keeping it then?”“Course I am,” she said with a smile. “Got two uncles who need another niece or nephew to spoil, haven’t I?” Robert smiled at her and pulled her into his arms, hugging her.“Congratulations,” Robert told her. She smiled into another hug, before Aaron approached them, frowning a little.“Can I have my husband back?” Aaron asked with a smile, enjoying the novelty of using that word. Husband. Kat pushed Robert towards him happily. "Take him!" she said with a smile.“I like that,” Robert said against Aaron’s jaw, pulling him close. “Husband.” Aaron couldn’t stop the shiver of pleasure that ran down his spine at Robert's low voice, repeating the word that meant so much, how much they'd come through to get here.Aaron moved to whisper in Robert’s ear. “You’re going to call me that a lot later, while we’re in bed later, right?”“Mm, gets you off does it?” Robert asked lowly.“We’ll see later.” Aaron kissed his cheek softly and Robert grinned as Aaron went to grab a pint, rather than the champagne which had been on offer. Robert was so happy right now. He was finally married to the man he loved, his friends and family were around him, and there was no trouble at all. Life couldn’t get much better, could it? Aaron and Robert were almost giggling as they went through the door of Home Farm that night, though Aaron would deny anything near a “giggle” left his lips. Kissing and pawing at each other, so close that nothing could get between them. “I’m going to keep you up all night,” Robert promised, eyes dark with lust. Aaron’s eyes dropped to his mouth, imagining Robert’s lips on his body, everywhere, the way Robert could and would make him feel.It was only the alcohol that made them both have much slower than normal reactions to what happened next. There was a flurry of movement, a struggle that couldn’t have lasted more than two or three seconds and then Leah appeared, a knife to Robert’s throat, the metal blade glinting in the light. Aaron didn’t move, was too afraid to, especially when he saw the fear in Robert’s eyes, fear that Aaron himself felt. Oh God, no. It couldn’t end like this. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Aaron could hear their heavy breathing in the hallway but nothing else, as time seemed to come to a stop. All he could see was the panic in Robert’s eyes, and the knife at his throat, the buzz from the alcohol at their wedding reception fading fast.“Get on your knees,” Leah hissed, and Aaron stopped breathing as she pushed the knife closer against his skin.“All right!” Robert breathed, slowly doing as she said. Aaron’s eyes were glued to Robert, even as he tried to feel for his phone. It was in the pocket of his trousers, but how could he use it? Robert’s eyes went wide, and Aaron followed their gaze. The new security alarm system they’d had installed once Aaron had come back into Robert’s life was on the wall of the hallway. And the red light was flashing angrily, which meant that help was on the way. Fifteen minutes most likely, though how long had she been here? It couldn’t have been long otherwise they’d have been alerted by the security firm not to go home. As Aaron thought that, both of their phones buzzed with alerts. Loudly.“Don’t try anything,” Leah said to Aaron. “Take your phone out and slide it towards me.” Aaron did slowly, then watched as she kicked it behind her, unwilling to let go of Robert for the second or two it would take.“What do you want?” Robert breathed.“Why would I want something?”“You have a knife to my throat,” Robert said quietly. “You already got your money, I didn’t come after you. I don’t have anything else.”“Why him?” she hissed, clearly angry. “You could have any woman you wanted, why him?!”“I don’t think right now is the time to be discussing my sexuality,” Robert said. “Ah!” he gasped as the knife definitely nicked his skin. “Okay, okay, what do you want?”“Him out of your life,” Leah said. The pause between both men made it clear that wasn’t going to be an option.“We got married today,” Robert said, without thinking, then realising that was an incredibly stupid thing to say.“Oh?” she asked. “I didn’t know that. I picked today because I’ve been watching the house. I saw it empty, I didn’t… why did you marry him? He’s so scarred, he’s damaged, I’ve seen him.”The look in Robert’s eyes made it clear he wanted to argue that, but it probably wasn’t the best with the threatening knife hovering as a constant threat.“Take me instead,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “Your brothers aren’t here to stop you this time. I’m sure you’d love to finish me off.” The glint in her eyes made it clear that, yes, that is what she’d want. “Aaron, don’t do anything stupid,” Robert said. Aaron ignored this.“Just tell me why, first,” Aaron said to her. “Is it just that I’m a man and you're homophobic?”“I’m not!” she spat at him (though clearly she was). “You’re not good enough for him! What can you actually do?!”“Not bad at giving an engine a going over,” Aaron said before he could stop himself.“Aaron,” Robert warned, feeling Leah’s grip tighten on him yet again.The three of them all heard a quiet noise from outside, and neither Aaron nor Robert moved. “What was that?” Leah asked in a quiet voice, which almost seemed to carry more of a threat than a shout.“You think after last time we’d be as careless again?” Robert asked. “We have extra security on the house to keep crazy people like you away from us.”“Robert!” Aaron hissed at him. This wasn’t helping. God forbid Robert’s smart mouth got them both killed.Everything then happened very quickly, and yet almost in slow motion at the same time. Leah had a look of shock on her face, seeing something, someone behind Aaron. And then...Aaron watched in horror, seeing the arc of the knife towards Robert’s face, not even having the time to open his mouth and yell for it. The slash of a knife, the bloom of bright red blood, Aaron’s sheer panic as two gun shots rang out in the night air. Leah collapsed after those two shots hit her in the chest, falling backwards, giving Aaron the chance to go to his husband. Aaron collapsed onto the floor, holding Robert’s face where it was obvious most of the damage was.“Robert!” he shouted, Rob already clutching his hands to his bleeding face. “Robert, look at me, please!”“I’m here,” Robert groaned, stretched out on the floor.“Call an ambulance!” Aaron shouted to the two security guards who’d just shot Leah, but Aaron couldn’t tear his eyes away from Robert.“Head… spinning,” Robert breathed.“That’ll be all the champagne,” Aaron teased, relieved when he saw Robert’s lips twist into a small smile.“You okay?” Robert asked, eyes glinting through what seemed to be an awful lot of blood splattered on his face, making Aaron’s heart fall through the floor. He had to be okay, he just had to be. There was no other option.“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” Aaron said quickly, dismissing this. Apart from the fear filling him that he could lose Robert, he was fine. “I can’t lose you,” Aaron whispered. “Don’t do this.”“It just… hurts,” Robert said. “Don’t leave me!” he added as Aaron looked around the room, taking in both the security men and Leah’s still form very close to them.“I’m not going anywhere,” Aaron reassured him. “You do the same, right?”“Mm,” Robert agreed. “Never could shake you, could I?” Aaron forced a smile.“Just stay here with me, keep talking to me.” And Robert did, his voice slurring slightly, but he stayed with Aaron, managing to remain conscious until paramedics arrived. It was with a huge reluctance that Aaron backed away so they could attend to him, the entire time his eyes wide with fear. God, he hoped Robert would be all right. “We’re receiving breaking news just coming through, actor Robert Sugden and his fiancé Aaron Dingle have been attacked at knife point in their home in Yorkshire. Robert Sugden has been admitted to hospital, and we’ve been told that his injuries are non life threatening. That’s a breaking story, we’ll give you more information as and when we get it.“Husband,” Aaron said angrily as he flicked the TV off in the hospital room. “Not fiancé.” He’d wondered how long it would take the news to latch onto the story. Something to talk about that wasn’t politics. Aaron shifted on the chair, trying to get comfortable which wasn’t easy.Robert was lying in bed, still out of it. The doctor’s had given him something to knock him out while he had his stitches done, and he hadn’t yet woken from it. Robert had managed to slip into something nearing a panic attack when he’d got to the hospital, realising that he had been slashed across the face, and they’d needed to sedate him to treat him. Aaron knew Robert was going to be in a complete state when he woke up. He might physically be okay, but the scars on his face… Robert would carry them for the rest of his life, and Aaron knew better than most how badly that would effect Robert.Aaron chewed his bottom lip as Robert started twitching, finally waking up. “Hey,” Aaron said with a smile. “Decided to wake up then? You sure as hell know how to give me a memorable wedding night.” Robert smiled, but it was forced and Aaron could tell that trying to keep it light wasn’t helping right now. It didn’t stop him from making the effort though. “Even mum called, worried about you. Think you’ve made an impression on her.”“Aaron…”“Vic’s been here too. Took one look at you and said you’d obviously be fine, then I made her get some sleep at home.” Not quite true, but Aaron knew Victoria crying over Robert wasn’t going to help anyone.“Aaron, stop it,” Robert said firmly, staring at him. “I need to see the damage. Have you got a mirror?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Robert, you’re going to be fine,” Aaron said surely. And he was, physically there hadn’t been much damage at all. “Isn’t that the most important thing?”“That means it’s bad,” Robert said. “Come on, just let me see it.”“I’m not Vic or Kat, I don’t carry around a mirror in my handbag,” Aaron said sarcastically. “There’s one in the bathroom.” Robert narrowed his eyes, trying a glare, which pulled at his damaged face.“Fine.” Robert swung his legs out of bed and moved towards the bathroom, ignoring Aaron’s slight noise of protest. There wasn’t anything else wrong with him, Leah had been stopped before she could really use the knife. Robert flicked the light on and stood perfectly still as he studied his face in the mirror. It was bad enough. There was a small cut through his right eyebrow, which didn’t much bother him. After a few weeks, that probably wouldn’t be noticeable. No, it was the carrying gash down his right cheek bone almost to his chin that would really be the long term memento from this. Actually, looking at it, he was probably lucky not to have lost an eye.“Robert, it won’t be that bad for long. It’s just… fresh, and…” Aaron tailed off.“It’s awful,” Robert said, still looking at it. He traced a finger over the wound and shook his head slowly. “Guess that’s my career over,” Robert said, the lightness in his voice not making Aaron believe he felt that way for one second as he left the bathroom and got back to bed. He felt deflated and hurt and… empty. Just empty.“Rob, I’m sorry,” Aaron said quietly. “It won’t look that bad forever.”“Mm,” Robert said. “But I’m not going to have much of a job to go back to, am I?” Aaron couldn’t reassure him. It was most likely true. “What time is it?”“Er… two in the morning,” Aaron said.“Go home,” Robert said. “I’ll get discharged in the morning. It’s not like it’s anything other than the superficial.”“Don’t you dare push me away,” Aaron growled at him.“I’m not,” he said, voice soft. “There’s no need for you to sleep here, go home, be comfy.”“I’ll be back in the morning,” Aaron promised. “Don’t go anywhere until I come back.”“I promise,” Robert said. He allowed Aaron to kiss him lingeringly in parting, then breathed out in relief when he was alone. Now he could indulge his vanity and cry without Aaron’s pitying look on him as well. The next time Robert opened his eyes, the room had the dull grey pre dawn light to it, and he instinctively knew it was early. He expected to be alone, but was surprised to see Kat in the visitors chair, looking tired and much less put together than she normally did.“Isn’t rest one of the key things for pregnant women?” Robert said.“Yes,” she said with a nod. “I heard you cut yourself shaving and wanted to have a look.” She spoke so bluntly that it put Robert more at ease anyway, and he stopped trying to hide the right side of his face in the pillow.“And what’d you think?” Robert asked. Kat looked at him, almost critically.“A little nasty,” she said honestly. “But your better side got left alone.” Robert smiled, finding her manner easier to take, rather than Aaron’s “you’re going to be fine.” Robert reached for the injury, but Kat stopped him. “Don’t do that. The doctors say you’ve got to leave it alone until it’s started to heal.”“You’ve spoken to the doctors?”“No. Aaron,” she said. “He’s worried about you.”“Just feels guilty that he’s stuck with me like this,” Robert muttered.“Oh, don’t feel sorry for yourself,” Kat snapped. “If you really think he married you for your looks, you’re a bigger idiot than even I thought.”“Aren’t you my friend?”“I’m friends with both of you,” Kat said. “And as your friend, I’m entitled to give you a good talking to when you’re being stupid.” Robert smiled again, before it faded.“Seriously, Kat,” he said. “How will he want me, looking like this?” Kat allowed herself a little sympathy for him, knowing that Robert had a streak of vanity about him. “Every time he looks at me, he’ll see this, and remember that crazed woman and… how could he want me?”“I’m going to give you… oh, twenty four hours that you can feel bitter and sorry for yourself, because yes, you’ve had a shit time. But after that my sympathy expires, because you do actually have a good life, Rob. You have a husband who adores you, and it’s not like you’re hard up, is it?”“Mm, and my career?”“You’re not a woman,” Kat said with a fake smile. “You'll be okay. You might veer off into a more… villainous character type cast, but you‘ll be all right…”“Kat, do me a favour?”“What?”“Call Aaron. I want to go home.” She smiled and nodded, doing just that. Robert hadn’t said much in the hospital, or in the car journey back towards the village. There had been press outside the hospital, but one of Aaron’s hoodies and a pair of sunglasses had done a very good job at hiding the worst of the damage. Aaron drove, stopping the car at the drive to Home Farm and both men looked at each other, realising that they both didn’t actually want to be here.“How about we pack a couple of bags and go to that run down cottage you bought me?” Aaron suggested. “Middle of nowhere, no wifi, no interruptions…”“Sold,” Robert said quickly.It took perhaps an hour for them to grab some stuff, hurriedly packing their bags and to make it to Aaron’s cottage, which had since accumulated a layer of dust. Robert stretched himself out on the sofa, trying to relax. It was difficult, because he felt so vulnerable and exposed. “Does the TV work here?”“Er should do,” Aaron called distantly from the kitchen. He made them coffee, as they had no milk for tea in the house and no other food before returning to the living room, watching Robert watch a football match.“You don’t like football,” Aaron reminded him.“No,” he said. “But it’s a distraction from the throbbing in my cheek, so I’ll take it.” “Speaking of, we should probably use that prescription cream the doctors recommended,” Aaron said.“No,” Robert grunted.“Robert…”“It’s not going to make any difference,” Robert said stubbornly. It was meant to help reduce scarring long term, but Robert had no faith in it working at all. It was just something the doctors had to say when there was no hope of it ever getting any better.“We’re using it, because I’ve just had to pay thirty quid for that bloody cream,” Aaron snapped, irritated. “I don’t particularly care if it makes a difference, but I’m not throwing it away without so much as trying.” Both men glared at each other, being equally stubborn until Robert relented first.“Fine,” he said. “But I’m going to be miserable, okay?”“Tell me something I don’t know,” Aaron muttered. Aaron dug in his bag and found the medicated cream. Privately he agreed with Robert, it wasn’t going to do much for the scarring of a knife wound. But he had to try, he couldn’t do nothing with Robert slipping into a maudlin state. Robert didn’t seem like he was going to help so Aaron sighed, and applied the cream to Robert’s face himself, keeping his touch as gentle as he could. As soon as he started touching Robert’s heated skin, Robert took his eyes off the football match and locked his gaze onto Aaron. It felt like a long time since they’d touched each other, really touched. For God’s sake, Robert hadn’t even had the chance to spend any kind of time alone with his new husband yet. Aaron could feel it too, but he stayed focused on his job. It was only when his fingers had finished, that he let his touch linger for longer than necessary, his thumb finding Robert’s bottom lip and running along it slowly.“Aaron…” Robert whispered quietly, the want clear. But Robert didn’t want to push, didn’t want to make himself even more vulnerable than he felt. Didn’t want to risk being turned down. Robert was still stretched out on the sofa, and Aaron moved, covering his body with his own, wanting the touch to be as close as possible. Robert didn’t move, letting Aaron take all the initiative as Aaron kissed him briefly, sweetly. Robert still didn’t react.“Is this okay?” Aaron asked, surprised that Robert hadn’t at least wrapped his arms around him. Aaron could see in his eyes that Robert wanted him, and yet no reaction… It confused him.“I want you to want me,” Robert said. “Not just feel like you should.”“Robert, I could never not want you,” Aaron said. “This…” he traced his fingers down the wound very gently. “… doesn’t change it. All it does is make me remember you’re lucky to be here. It could have been so much worse.”“Don’t.”Aaron kissed him again, and this time Robert did respond, pulling Aaron as close as he could get. Aaron arched his hips into Robert’s body. “Does it feel like I don’t want you?” Robert smiled at him, wondering how he got this lucky.“I guess it is our wedding night.” Aaron smiled too, pleased that Robert’s bad mood hadn’t seemed to last long as he sunk into a heated kiss. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The scars had affected Robert’s career, but oddly not in a bad way. It meant he was cast as villains more often these days, or characters with a moral ambiguity, and Robert enjoyed that a lot more than he thought he would. Two years on from the knife attack, Robert was again nominated for an Oscar. He didn’t win. It was on his third nomination a few more years down the line that he did. Ironically, it was the only ceremony Aaron didn’t attend with him, staying at the hotel in LA and looking after Catherine, their little girl who was desperate to see daddy on the telly. She got to stay up late as a treat.“Clearly I was the bad luck charm,” Aaron teased on the phone, right after Robert’s win.“I wish you’d been here,” Robert said. “I know you don’t do these red carpet things, but…” he sighed. “It would have been nice.”“You thought I’d sit through another ten hour ceremony for yet another loss?”“It’s not ten hours and I didn’t lose.”“Well I didn’t know that, did I?” Aaron countered with a smile. “You sure it’s not some kind of mix up, like they did with best film a few years ago??”“Shut up,” Robert said, with amusement and warmth filling his voice. “Let me speak to Catherine, say goodnight to her.” Aaron passed the phone over, though their daughter was more asleep than awake at this point.“Daddy… you won?” Catherine asked.“I did,” Robert said with a smile. “You being a good girl?”“Uhuh,” Catherine said. “When do I see auntie Kat?”“She’s coming in a week,” Robert promised. Catherine got on very well with her name sake, and it was hard tearing the two of them apart sometimes. “Needs to see her favourite girl, doesn’t she?”“Yeah... Night night daddy,” Catherine said.“Goodnight sweetheart.” Catherine held the phone out for Aaron before her head lolled against the sofa in the kind of deep sleep only children could have.“I need to go,” Aaron said. “She’s not the only one who’s knackered.”“Okay,” Robert said. “I have to go to the after party, you know that, right? I can’t come back to the hotel, I need to show my face…”“I know,” Aaron said. “Robert, I’m so proud of you.”“Don’t, you’ll make me blush,” Robert said in a low voice. A voice which meant he loved the compliment even if he wouldn’t say it.“I am,” Aaron said. “And I love you so much.”“I love you too,” Robert said fervently. Aaron heard a loud cheer and knew he had to go.“I…”“Go,” Aaron said. The call disconnected, and Aaron picked up their daughter, taking her to her bed. When Robert returned in the small hours of the morning, he looked in on his family. Catherine was sound asleep, her blonde hair flung across her pillow, looking much more innocent than they knew her to be. She was a mischief when awake. Then Robert moved into the master bedroom of their hotel suite, smiling at Aaron. Robert would have to wake him, his body was taking up the entirety of the bed, limbs flung everywhere. Robert took his tie, jacket, socks and shoes off before climbing into bed with him, shoving him onto Aaron’s side of the bed.“You stink of alcohol,” Aaron moaned, scrunching his nose up when his face pressed against Robert's shirt.“I love you too,” Robert said with a smile.“How does it feel to win?” Aaron asked, curling into Robert’s body.“Amazing,” Robert admitted. “Though I’m also glad I have you to keep bringing me back down to earth.”“What, saying you’re nothing more than a cocky arrogant git who’s nothing special?” Aaron asked. “Like that?”“Yes,” Robert said, kissing Aaron behind his ear. “Exactly like that. Catherine behaved?”“Mm. You ever think…” Aaron started. “Occasionally,” Robert said when Aaron showed no signs of continuing.“Having another one,” Aaron finished. “I… I love being a dad to her, Robert. And I know you do too.”“I do,” Robert agreed, pulling Aaron close. “And I do think about having more children. We’d both have to pull back on work a bit. With two. I don’t think either of us want to shove them into childcare…”“No,” Aaron said urgently. “You’re not being one of those actors who shoves their kids money and only sees them on Christmas and their birthdays.”“No, I’m not,” Robert agreed. He saw too much of that in his line of work, and it wouldn’t happen to his own children. “You’d be okay? Cutting back a little on the showroom?”“Yes,” Aaron said. He had spent quite a bit of time thinking about this. Robert and Aaron owned a car show room, just outside Leeds, and Aaron got to work on some really amazing cars in the attached garage. Yes, Robert had set it up, had the money to get it going, but Aaron had made it work under his own steam, with Adam’s help, and he loved his work. It was a profitable business, and being able to fix cars Aaron once thought he’d never get to even touch was a wonderful thing. But he loved being a father more. “But only if you don’t film for a good six months or so. We both need to be there.”“Yeah, all right,” Robert agreed easily. Far too easily.“You’d been thinking about it too,” Aaron realised.“I may have contacted our surrogate,” Robert said. “Just to see if she was interested in doing it again, that’s all.”“Without telling me?!” Aaron said.“I thought you might need time to get used to the idea,” Robert said with a shrug. “And finding a normal surrogate was a nightmare in the first place.” It had been. What with Robert’s fame and money, even through agencies, most of the women they met wanted either an awful lot of money or fame. Before they met Annabelle who was both nice, normal, and they got on with very well. And the pregnancy had gone smoother than they could have ever dared hope for.“What did she say?” Aaron asked.“Said she needed to think about it because it’s a big decision, but I’m hopeful,” Robert said. Aaron had pulled back a little to look at his face and Robert wrapped his arms tightly around his husband again, needing him close. “Not what I thought we’d be talking about right now though,” Robert added. “I’ve won an Oscar tonight, remember?”“Well, we never did things the normal way,” Aaron said with a smile. He reached up and stroked Robert’s face, along the scar gently. Robert still had moments that he felt incredibly insecure about his disfigurement, and Aaron always made sure to touch him there, show him that he loved him anyway. Robert splayed his right hand across Aaron’s bare abdomen, across his self harm scars. To show him exactly the same. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “I’m really sorry, I hate to let you down.”“That’s okay,” Robert said heavily to the phone, which was on speaker. It would have to be okay, it wasn’t like they could force her, though Aaron looked very down. “Look, don’t feel guilty,” Robert said into the pause. “You already did it for us once before, we just thought we’d ask.”“I can’t put my body through it again,” Annabelle said. “I’m so sorry.”“Don’t be,” Aaron said. They said their goodbyes and Aaron rubbed a hand over his face in irritation. “Back to the drawing board then.”“We can get another surrogate,” Robert said, though he couldn’t hide how disappointed he was either. “We’ve already been through the fifty or so agency checks, it’s not like we’re at square one. They have dealt with us before.”“I know,” Aaron said. “Just… hoped.”“I know you did,” Robert said, drawing Aaron into a hug. “I did too.” Aaron rested his head against Robert’s shoulder, allowing him to be held. “I have to go. First day of filming today. It’d make a bad impression if I were late.”“Go,” Aaron said, but Robert lingered to give Aaron slow, soft, loving kisses. They only broke apart when Catherine was tugging at Robert’s jeans. Robert bent down and picked the girl up, back twinging a little as he did so. He was getting old, and could see Aaron about to tease him as he straightened up, grimacing. Robert shot him a look that said clearly “not today.”“You leaving?” Catherine asked wide eyed.“Yeah, I’ve got to get to work,” Robert said. “Brand new film I’m working on.”“Ooh! Can I come?”“Maybe I won’t let our daughter destroy the film set on the very first day,” Robert said to Aaron who smiled at that. Catherine swung her eyes to Aaron, once Robert had said no.“Don’t look at me,” Aaron told her. “Listen to your father.” Robert kissed the top of her head and put her down when she started wriggling. She ran into the living room, and Aaron smiled. They were in Robert’s London flat, which looked a lot more lived in than it had when Aaron first visited here, all those years ago. When he’d been waiting for Robert to get off his flight and come back home to him. What turned out to be the first time of many. Robert loved his work, and Aaron wanted Robert to be happy. But those goodbyes were always terrible to go through, no matter how much they may skype, and call… nothing was the same as having Robert living with him, until the next film came along. The goodbyes had only got harder when Catherine came along, because Robert had to part from both people he loved. When she was very little, Robert refused any film that would take him internationally, because Aaron and the baby wouldn’t go with him. They had decided they wanted Catherine to have as normal a childhood as possible, not handing her off to a variety of nannies when they didn’t have the time to care for her. That wouldn’t happen to their child. When Robert wasn’t filming, he became the main parent, weeks of uninterrupted time off while Aaron sorted the business with Adam, selling cars outside Leeds. It got a little hectic at times, but it worked for them.Luckily, this particular film was a British production, and mostly filmed in London. So every night when he came home, he’d have Aaron and his daughter waiting for him at the flat, which made it a lot easier to detach his brain from his personal life while filming.“Earth to Robert?” Robert looked at Aaron and realised he’d been daydreaming.“Just thinking,” he said. “Now I’m really going to be late.”“Go on,” Aaron said with a smile. Robert kissed him again, deeper this time much to Aaron’s surprise, and Aaron smiled as he left.“Bye bye daddy!” Catherine called to the closed door. Aaron smiled and got down on the floor with her, hearing his knee crack as he did it. God, maybe Robert wasn’t the only one getting old, Aaron thought. His thirtieth birthday party last year should have told him that one.“Dolly in the house?”“Yes, let’s play with your dolls house,” Aaron agreed, rewarded by a perfect smile from his daughter. “What are you doing here?” Aaron asked, opening the door to Kat. He was surprised, but pleased to see her.“Auntie Kat!!” Catherine shouted, running into her arms with a squeal.“My favourite girl!” Kat said, smiling at her, rubbing their noses together, enjoying her giggles.“Where’s Jacob?” Aaron asked as Kat put her down.“School.”“He’s at school already?” Aaron asked, shaking his head. “Where does the time go?”“You’re telling me, I’ve not seen you three in ages!” Kat said happily. “Where’s Rob?”“Work, filming,” Aaron said, putting the kettle on.“Filming what?” “Er…” Aaron said, the details having been lost on him. Kat laughed. “I want to say an MI5 kind of thing?? I don’t really know, he’s got a lot of different projects. He did tell me but it kind of... didn't stick.”“Oh right,” Kat said, rolling her eyes. “Coffee please,” she added. Aaron nodded, making her one.“I know it’s with that up and coming actress,” Aaron said. “Oh, now Robert did tell me her name…” Aaron said, searching for it in his brain.“It astounds me how after being married to Robert for nearly six years, you are still so out of the celebrity circle,” Kat said.“I don’t care,” Aaron said. “It wouldn’t matter to me if Robert had never been famous in the first place.”“I know,” Kat said. “And I’m one of the few who believe that.” Aaron didn’t answer, he’d grown bored of the money grabber / gold digger articles, though they had vanished in recent years. Probably due to how long they’d been happily married.“Rebecca, that’s it,” Aaron said, the name having occurred to him. “Rebecca White.”“Really?” Kat asked.“Yeah, why? Do you know her?”“By reputation,” Kat said, raising her eyebrows.“Go on then, what’s wrong with her?” Aaron asked.“She’s just…” Kat sighed. “I don’t want you to be paranoid, but she just gets a little… forward with her co stars.”“Forward how?” Aaron asked, though he had a feeling he knew.“I’m sure Robert won’t fall for it,” Kat said. “She likes having affairs with people she films with, that’s all.”“Right,” Aaron said darkly. “And you’re telling me this why?”“Forget I said anything,” Kat said, realising she'd put her foot in it. “Robert loves you.” Aaron sighed heavily. “Sorry, me and my big mouth. Forget it please.”“Kat, I’ve already made my peace with the fact I know he leaves me to film and kisses various women while on set, because that’s his job. Now you’re telling me…”“God, I didn’t think,” Kat said. “Seriously, don’t worry. Robert adores you and Catherine.” Kat covered Aaron’s hand with her own and Aaron could feel his wedding ring there between their fingers. A physical sign of Robert’s commitment, and honestly, Robert hadn’t ever given him a worry that he’d stray. Not since years ago when Aaron had been jealous of Kat, though now that seemed completely ridiculous, never any need for it. Aaron wouldn’t let rumours leave him paranoid.“Colouring?” Both of them looked at Catherine, holding her book and pens hopefully, and Kat lifted her to sit at the kitchen table.“Come on then,” Aaron said. “What colour can daddy have?” Catherine studied them carefully and gave Aaron a red one. Aaron smiled and got to work on her colouring book. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Robert was being driven home at the end of a long day, silently seething because he knew he’d have missed Catherine’s bedtime. He’d barely seen her today, and he liked to always spend time with her if he could. It had been a long work day, being introduced to the new crew, producers and the rest of the cast without getting much of anything done, though a few scenes had been committed to camera. His opposite co star was Rebecca White, someone he’d never met before, though he’d heard of her. Rather obviously pretty if you went for that kind of thing, and way too happy for first thing in the morning too. Robert could get why she was a rising star, but he didn’t really think much of her. Beyond being friendly towards her, as he’d have at least six to eight weeks filming here, and that was made much easier when the cast got on.“I’m on my way home,” Robert said, picking up the phone when he saw Aaron ringing. “Sorry it’s been such a long day, I know I said…”“It’s fine,” Aaron said calmly. “How are you?”“Hungry.”“I ordered fish and chips,” Aaron said with a smile. “It’s just turned up, so if you get home quickly it might not be stone cold.”“That sounds amazing,” Robert said honestly. “Got enough vinegar on them?”“Yes, they are so sour I can’t even eat them,” Aaron said briefly. “How was work?”“It was… fine,” Robert said. “All new people, all hectic mayhem, the usual.”“And er… how’s your co star?”“What is it?” Robert asked sharply. He‘d been with Aaron for far too long to take that at face value. “Your voice changed.”“Kat turned up today,” Aaron admitted.“Let me guess, with the latest gossip about Rebecca White?” Robert said with a sigh.“Well, it came up,” Aaron admitted.“Hang on, are you checking up on me?” Robert asked, feeling stung. He had been completely faithful since he‘d met Aaron, never given him any reason to doubt. And all it took was Kat repeating gossip? “What exactly have I done to deserve that?”“Robert, if I were checking up on you, I’d have called way before now. You haven’t had any missed calls from me, because I trust you.” Robert breathed in and out heavily, but he had a point. He’d been gone for longer than twelve hours now, Aaron could have quite reasonably called to see where he was.“Look,” Robert said. “Even if what they all say about her is true, even if she’s worse, that doesn’t mean I’m going to go there. Why would I?” There was a pause on the phone line and Aaron sighed.“I know, I just get a tiny bit insecure sometimes,” Aaron admitted.“I know you do,” Robert said, calming down from his brief flash of anger. He knew Aaron admitting that was difficult for him and he wouldn’t dismiss that out of hand. “I’m here and I’m yours. Okay?”“How far away are you?” Aaron asked. Robert looked out the window, traffic wasn’t bad right now.“Five minutes? Maybe ten,” Robert said. “Did Catherine go to sleep okay?”“Fine,” Aaron said. “Perfect,” he added with much more warmth. “She had fun with Kat this afternoon. She’s really good with kids.”“Yeah, she is,” Robert said. “What’s she doing in London?” he added as an afterthought.“Er… fashion designing or something,” Aaron said. “I zoned out when she started talking about pink silk.” Aaron shuddered and Robert laughed.“I’m nearly home,” Robert promised. “I love you.”“You too,” Aaron said, hanging up. Robert sighed, wondering if this was another problem he’d have to deal with. Aaron didn’t often show jealousy, even when Robert’s photos were plastered all over magazines for people to stare at, but when he did Robert tried his best to reassure him. That Aaron was the one he’d chosen. Maybe he’d have to do that for the next few weeks, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Whatever Robert was about to say, when he walked through the door, the mouth watering scent of fish and chips took his words away. He was incredibly hungry. He sat at the kitchen table and started eating. “This is so good,” Robert mumbled around a chunk of cod.“Good,” Aaron said. He hadn’t waited, had already finished his own meal. “I’m sorry,” he added, making Robert look at him. “You’re right, you don’t deserve me thinking the worst.”“I have never cheated on you,” Robert said honestly. “Even when we weren’t strictly together, when things got patchy between us before we married… there was never anyone else, Aaron. Just because people say she’s easy doesn’t mean I’ll just think “she’s offering it, why not?”"“You’re right,” Aaron said. “I know my jealousy thing is my issue. It is hard for me when most women on the planet flirt with you when they meet you. I’m just the boring average husband you leave at home, or who is always three steps back from the cameras.”“You’re not boring or average,” Robert said instantly. “And I don’t ask for the attention either. Yes, in my twenties, it was rather enjoyable to have that, I admit it. The flirting, the press, but not now. It’s you, that’s it.” Aaron smiled at Roberts earnest face and kissed him, or tried to. Robert turned his head away, though all he wanted was Aaron’s mouth, to feel his body under his hands. Aaron knew the routine by now and he sat down, not trying to touch him again. This meant he’d been filming intimate scenes at work, it meant he wanted a shower first before he’d touch Aaron. Aaron sighed heavily.“Don’t read into that,” Robert said seriously. “Directors like to get some of those scenes done first, you know that.”“Yeah, I do,” Aaron said. Before the cast members got too friendly, and the tension was gone for their onscreen characters. Didn’t make it much easier for him to cope with. “Look, you eat, have a shower, and meet me in bed. Okay?”“Yes,” Robert said, eating another chip. “Sounds like a plan.”Twenty minutes later, Robert pulled back the bed sheets and wrapped himself around Aaron’s naked body, kissing his lips softly. “You’re not upset with me are you?” Robert asked, not wanting to continue the argument.“No,” Aaron said, a small smile appearing on his face as he opened his thighs in invitation. Robert smirked back. “Right, I want a word with you,” Robert said angrily. The phone was on speaker on the kitchen table as both men organised breakfast for themselves and Catherine.“Oh, what’ve I done?” Kat said.“Gossip?” Robert prompted. “Aaron? The film I’m working on, ring any bells?”“Rob, I’m sorry,” she said, instantly cottoning on. “I didn’t think!”“You’re not a dumb blonde, stop acting like it!”“Robert,” Aaron warned, seeing that his raised voice was making their daughter look like she might cry. “It’s all right sweetheart, daddy’s just mad at auntie Kat.”“But Kat’s perfect!!” Catherine said in total shock.“At least I’ve got the smart one on my side,” Kat said.“Catherine Penelope DuJardin…”“Don’t you middle name me!” Kat snapped back. “Not my fault you didn’t tell your husband about Rebecca’s reputation is it?”“Kat…”“Aaron, are you there?” she asked.“Yes.”“Can you talk to him?”“I have,” Aaron said. “He’s angry with me and he’s taking it out on you, just ignore him.”“I am still here,” Robert said.“Why’s he angry with you?” Kat asked, now curious.“I may have got a tiny bit jealous,” Aaron admitted grumpily.“Why?” Kat asked blankly. “It’s not like Robert would ever go near the cheap little…”“Three year old listening into this conversation, Kat,” Robert interrupted sharply before she could say anything more offensive.“Robert, can I meet you on your film set for lunch?” Kat said, changing the subject.“Er, yeah, if you want to hang around until a suitable break,” Robert said blankly.“Great!” she said. “I’ll teach you some manners about how to talk to your best and oldest friend while I’m at it.” Kat hung up and Robert pinched the bridge of his nose, hard.“Don’t take it out on her,” Aaron warned. “She’s been very good to us, you know she has.”“I know,” Robert said. “I hate you feeling this way though. I want you to trust me.”“I had a moment, that’s all,” Aaron said, sliding into his arms. “I do trust you. Come on, it’s been years.” Robert kissed him, the embrace deepening until Robert knew he had to go, not wanting to get turned on while their three year old was sitting having breakfast.“See you later,” Robert said. He kissed Catherine once, then left the flat for what would prove to be another long day filming. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Right, I’ve got twenty minutes, so start talking,” Robert said quickly, sitting at the table opposite Kat. They were on Robert’s film set, eating the provided lunch in a large room, conversation very loud from all the tables as they had a break. “Why did you want to meet?”“Aaron!” she snapped, like it was obvious. “Cut him some slack.”“I’m sorry,” Robert said in disbelief. “He accuses me of cheating, with no basis might I add, and I’m the one who has to cut him slack?”“Yes,” Kat said seriously, stabbing her pasta with her fork. “And Aaron didn’t accuse you of cheating, he’ll have said he’s worried.”“How do you know that?”“I’ve known the two of you as a couple for a lot longer than I knew you single,” Kat said. “I know him. And I don’t really blame him either.”“For Gods sake Kat!” Robert hissed. “I don’t drop my jeans for just anyone! What’s got into both of you?!”“I can just see his point of view,” Kat said with a shrug. “That's all. He’s a normal guy, and even though he’s been with you for so long, by and large he’s still a normal guy. Just with a slightly healthier bank balance.”“What’s that got to do with anything?” Robert asked frowning.“Come on,” Kat said, like she couldn’t believe Robert was this stupid. “Whenever you go out in public, your fans flirt with you and mostly completely ignore him. Aaron doesn’t say anything because he knows you love him, and he trusts that you won’t stray.”“Tell me,” Robert said sarcastically, feeling a little bit attacked. “Seeing as you have all this brilliant insight into my husband, how come you decided to tell him “oh, be jealous of the thin pretty blonde”?”“Fine,” Kat said. “Not my wisest move. I honestly thought he’d have heard the gossip, or you’d have told him! I didn’t know it was news to him.” Robert sighed, but there was no use going over it again and again. The damage was done. “Are we still friends?” she teased, well aware that a minor argument like this didn't even come close to ruining their friendship.“You didn’t even tell me you were in the country,” Robert grumbled.“Yes, I did,” she said. “I told you I needed to submit my fashion designs. Which means London.”“Why are you scribbling around with bits of paper?” Robert asked, jumping on the chance to change the subject.“I’m too old to be a model, Robert.”“You’re only a couple of years older than Aaron!” Robert said indignantly. “And you’re way younger than me!”“Yes, but you’re lucky, because you’re a man,” Kat said sadly. “You get older, you just have the ruggedly handsome thing, I get older… well, the words “washed up” have been thrown around. It’s fine, I’m used to it.”“Kat…”“I never got back to my pre pregnancy size anyway,” she said. “It’s fine. I’m just someone who used to be famous. I have my family, my friends, and I don’t actually have to work again if I didn’t want to, I’ve got enough money. Don’t feel too sorry for me.”“Kat,”“It’s fine,” she repeated. “I was never in your league acting wise, they just liked the young pretty blonde.”“Speaking of,” Robert said, nodding to the other side of the room. Rebecca had walked in.“Oh, she’s older than I thought,” Kat said, watching her help herself to a salad.“Are you going to be a bitch before you even know her?” Robert asked bluntly.“I’m looking out for my friends,” she said with a sweet smile. "Both of my friends."“She’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with her,” Robert said, now tired of the conversation. “She’s been perfectly professional.”“There won’t be a problem then, will there?” she said.“Sometimes I think you and Aaron gang up on me,” Robert grumbled.“Only sometimes? We must try harder then,” she said, smiling. “No offence, but I’m getting a little bored of repeating that you’re a Russian spy,” Robert said, rolling his eyes as the cameras set up for another take.“Bloody director,” Rebecca said under her breath. “We’re not doing that badly, right?”“No, we’re not,” Robert agreed fervently. He wanted to be the one to put Catherine to bed tonight, though that was looking increasingly unlikely. Robert looked at his watch, then sighed. “Sometimes I think it’d be worth jacking it all in.”“Oh, you don’t mean that,” Rebecca said, fluttering her eyelashes. “What would you spend your time doing? You’d be bored stiff.”“I have a husband and a three year old daughter,” Robert said, somewhat proudly. “I’m sure I’d fill my time somehow.”“Yeah, I heard about your husband,” Rebecca said. “How’ve you managed to make that work?”“What do you mean?” Robert asked, getting his back up instantly. He didn't like anyone implying that because they were two men, it couldn't work.“With someone normal,” Rebecca said, pushing the point. “That must be difficult.”“Was at the beginning,” Robert admitted, now seeing what she meant. “I love him, that’s all I need.”“Husband know you’re having lunch dates with pretty blonde supermodels?” Rebecca asked slyly.“Are you kidding?” Robert said blankly. “If Aaron were here, I wouldn’t have been able to get a word in edgeways.” Rebecca laughed to herself. “Are you married?” Robert asked.“No,” she said. “Permanently single apparently.” She sighed melodramatically but ruined the effect with a wink, making Robert smile a little.“Right, ready to go again?” the director said. Robert opened the door to his flat and almost stepped back in surprise. Aaron was kissing him deeply, passionately. “Woah, what’s that for?” Robert asked.“I love you,” Aaron said. “I trust you and I’m really sorry.”“Yeah?” Robert asked. “Are you?”“I’ve got no reason to accuse you like that,” Aaron said. “I’m sorry.”“Okay,” Robert said. “I’ll let it go.” Aaron smiled with relief.“Bedroom?” Aaron suggested.“You’re eager,” Robert said. Aaron grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief.“Er… your agent sent round the proofs for that calendar you’re doing,” Aaron admitted. “I just… want to compare it to the real thing.”“Oh, it meets with your approval does it?” Robert said with a smile.“Oh, God, yes,” Aaron said fervently. “And the blue shirt picture in particular. Tell me you still have that shirt.”“Yeah,” Robert said. “But it’s at home. Emmerdale,” he clarified.“Shame,” Aaron said, pulling him in the direction of the bedroom. “Come on “Mr January” I’ve been wanting you all day.”“Why January?” Robert asked amused as he let himself be dragged off.“Surely my favourite picture of you should be on my birthday month?” Aaron said, like it was obvious.“Fine,” Robert willingly agreed before attaching his lips to Aarons. “You know that calendar was for charity right?”“Yeah, yeah,” Aaron said dismissively, pulling a laughing Robert into the bedroom. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Aaron had spent the majority of the afternoon on the phone, trying to sort things out. He wanted to do something special for Robert, for them both, it had just taken quite a bit of organising. Even with a travel agent. First Aaron had called Elizabeth, Robert’s agent to book him some time off of work or PR commitments, then tried to find somewhere they could go for a weeks holiday. Somewhere with hot sun, privacy and a place that was completely theirs for seven days sounded blissful. Of course there was the added snag of finding a country that didn’t have laws against same sex couples, Aaron thought bitterly. Being arrested for public indecency would probably put a bit of a dampener on their holiday. And Aaron wanted a private beach as well, so after a bit of research, he decided to cut his loses and call a travel agent who knew what they were actually talking about.Then he’d decided to be incredibly extravagant. He and Robert had never really blown the budget completely and treated themselves, life tended to get in the way. And they’d been married for six years, together for seven or more, they deserved it. Or that’s what Aaron told himself when he put the deposit down. From his own bank account too, not using Robert’s fortune which he wouldn’t have felt exactly right about. Well, not without asking him anyway, which would kind of ruin the surprise. The part that was going to be very difficult to swing with Robert was leaving Catherine at home. Catherine hadn’t spent much time with either of her grandmothers in the last six months or so, and Aaron had decided to leave her with Chas. Who’d been genuinely thrilled at the prospect of a week with her granddaughter. Soon enough it would be schools and the opportunity would be lost. Aaron had argued with himself about taking her with them, but he and Robert hadn’t spent any significant time alone since she was born, so he hoped Robert would agree with him. And the place he’d booked had excellent wifi so they’d be able to skype with her everyday.Aaron had just finished his last phone call (flights) when the door opened and Robert came in. “Wow, you’re hours early,” Aaron said in surprise.“We’re finished,” Robert said. “No more filming.”“Seriously? I thought you went to Friday?”“Got it all done,” Robert said, pleased as he collapsed onto the sofa. “That was not one of my best films.”“You don’t know that.”“True,” Robert said. “Amazing what editing can do.” Aaron smiled.“So we’ve got a few free days?” Aaron asked. “Before we go back to the village?”“Don’t get too excited,” Robert said darkly. “Going out for drinks with the cast tomorrow night. Which will probably go into the next morning, but I have to go.”“I know,” Aaron said. It was a usual routine after wrapping up a film, and Aaron didn’t envy him.“Where’s Catherine?”“Watching Frozen,” Aaron said. “And asking why daddy can’t ever be in any good films.” Robert laughed.“Shall we go out for dinner?” Robert suggested. “Just the three of us?” It had been a lot of late nights while filming, and Aaron smiled at him, knowing this was more for Roberts benefit than his.“Yeah,” Aaron said softly. “Just the three of us. Speaking of,” he added at the reminder. “We’ve got meetings with potential surrogates at the end of next month.”“When did they call?!” Robert asked in surprise.“This morning,” Aaron said. “We could be going through it all again if we’re lucky.” Robert kissed him very softly and lovingly. He loved the idea of adding to their family, even if it was an inevitably slow process. “You have a shower and get changed, I’ll detach Catherine from her film and call a car to take us to a restaurant. Okay?”“Sounds like a plan,” Robert said with a smile.The fact that the next day, the online gossip columns were filled with pictures of them with Catherine in the restaurant was neither here nor there. One in particular was proving rather popular, Catherine asleep on Robert’s lap, Robert’s left arm around her, laughing into his wine glass as he looked at Aaron. With what he refused to even contemplate as “heart eyes” as one website mentioned. They looked like such a happy family, and though Robert didn’t usually read the trash about himself, he loved those pictures. “No, I really can’t,” Robert said as a couple of the producers were pushing him for another drink.“It’s still early,” Rebecca said indignantly, joining the melee. Early being a matter of opinion as it was now past midnight. “Job well done and all that?”“All right,” Robert said, letting them fill his glass up with whisky. It was only his second of the night, him wanting a clear head. He’d mostly been on beer and was probably one of the more sober ones there. There being Rebecca’s flat, which had not been Robert’s idea. But he’d made enough films to know that nights like this could get out of hand if they were in a pub or a club of some description. Usually accompanied by incriminating photographs that did no one any favours.“What’re you up to now?” Rebecca asked as the evening dragged on, both of them on the sofa, Robert nursing his whisky, making it last.“Nothing,” Robert said. “Got no projects in the pipeline. I work less now I’ve got Catherine.”“Isn’t that what nannies are for?” Rebecca asked, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.“No,” Robert said with a slight smile. “Me and Aaron made the firm decision she’d be with family, not strangers.”“Mm, novel,” Rebecca said with a shrug.“What’re you up to then?” Robert asked.“New film in Australia, fly out on Friday,” she said.“Oh, so you’re the reason we finished early,” Robert said as it dawned on him.“That can’t be a bad thing, can it?”“Point taken,” Robert said. It hadn’t been the most enjoyable of films, Robert had to say that. Then Robert recoiled as Rebecca’s lips touched his. “What the hell are you doing?!”“Come on, we’ve done it before,” she said, going in for another. Robert backed away sharply.“Yes, with an entire production team and camera crew in front of us,” Robert said. “Not like this. I should go.”“Come on, I know you love Aaron, but he can’t be fulfilling all of your needs,” Rebecca said. “You were with so many women before you found him and went all faithful. I remember, I read the papers.”“Rebecca…”“What happened to the bad boy everyone loved to gossip about?” she asked.“It was years ago, I grew up,” Robert said. Rebecca’s hand slipped to his thigh and started going higher “And on that note, I’m leaving,” Robert said, removing her hand without being gentle.“Robert, wait.”“Look, I’ve humoured you up until now because we’ve had to work together. I don’t like your hands all over me, I don’t want you.” She had been very handsy and Robert had chosen not to say anything. Because it hadn’t become anything more and it would create more fuss than it was worth, and causing issues on set wasn’t a reputation Robert wanted to have. Plus he knew it was only a matter of weeks, and he’d thought she was harmless. He certainly hadn’t mentioned it to Aaron either, after the panic he had had about Robert being faithful when the project started. It was nothing he couldn’t handle. Or so he thought bitterly. Robert left her flat, heart racing hard as he went to catch the tube back to his place. He wouldn’t hide this from Aaron any more, couldn't. He had to know. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Robert came home and found Aaron stretched over his side of the bed, asleep. Hair curled, back bear of clothes, so Robert's gaze could linger over his spine. He smiled for a moment, then woke him gently, hand on Aaron‘s shoulder. “Coffee?” he said, and Aaron sighed, knowing that that meant Robert wanted a conversation, even in his near sleep state.“Yeah, okay,” Aaron said. “Five minutes.” Robert left his husband to blink himself awake, while Robert put the coffee machine on. Though in real terms, he didn’t think either of them would be drinking it, it at least gave his hands something to do.“What’d you want to talk about?” Aaron asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting at the kitchen table. He wore a pair of boxers and an old T shirt and he looked so good, Robert thought distractedly. Muscles of his arms on show, so beautiful and it was all his. He now felt guilty for waking him up, surely this could have waited until morning? But Robert knew if he waited, he’d chicken out and this would just get worse because he lied to cover it up. And the “it” really was nothing in the first place, so....“What’ve you done?” Aaron said when Robert didn’t answer straight away.“Why’ve I done something?” Robert asked shiftily, trying to deflect the attention, trying not to give in to Aaron’s direct gaze which always demanded honesty from him.“That guilty look on your face,” Aaron said. “You’ve not done something really stupid like… gamble Catherine’s trust fund or something?”“No,” Robert said, wanting to get thoughts like that out of Aarons head instantly. “Like I’d do that to our daughter, that’s her future.”“Then stop looking like you’ve run over someone’s cat.” Robert couldn’t even smile at the joke.“Rebecca made a pass at me,” Robert said, looking into his hands. There. Short sharp and accurate. “I didn’t want her, I didn’t do anything.” Robert chanced a look up and saw Aaron looking both hurt and disappointed. He couldn’t decide what was worse.“And you wake me up to tell me that?” Aaron asked quietly.“I couldn’t lie to you,” Robert said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to lie to you.”“You sleep with her?”“No!” He was shocked by the question, but he must have been convincing because some of the tension in Aaron’s shoulders left him. “Of course I didn’t, I love you.”“You wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me some glamorous woman threw herself at you, and I’m in the wrong for asking the question?” Aaron said, narrowing his eyes.“Fine,” Robert said, letting it go. He had bigger things to worry about right now. “She kissed me, I pushed her off, then left.”“How did…” Aaron shook his head, then got up and started pacing, clearly agitated. Robert had known Aaron wouldn’t take it brilliantly well (why would he?) but Robert liked to think they didn’t have the kind of marriage that survived by lying. “God, Robert, this couldn’t wait until I’m awake?!” Robert didn’t know how to word that she had seriously unsettled him. So much so that he needed Aaron’s presence, Aaron to be here and talking to him, no matter how much of it was anger. “You’ve been filming with her for nearly two months,” Aaron said. “Have I been completely blind and…”“No,” Robert said. “And that’s different, when you have directors telling you exactly how it should look, what position your head should be, it’s in character stuff.” Robert shrugged.“Tell me what happened tonight,” Aaron said, staying calm and wrapping his hands around his coffee cup, giving them something to do. Robert did, briefly.“There were about twenty people in her flat, but they were all milling around. Most were in the kitchen I think, that’s where the booze was. Rebecca and I found ourselves alone on the sofa, and we were just talking. She kissed me, and I backed off. I left instantly, got the tube and woke you up. That’s it.”“Really?” Aaron asked. “Then why the desperate need to wake me up at one in the morning? Couldn’t wait until daybreak? You look guilty Robert, I know you too well.”“I feel horrible. I hated her touching me,” he said instead, speaking almost bitterly. Aaron did stop pacing then, looking at Robert steadily.“You mean that, don’t you?” Aaron said.“Okay, I um… she’s been a little full on, on set,” Robert said. “Just forward and touchy feely kind of thing. Not like tonight”“Which you’ve not told me,” Aaron said, voice dangerously low.“No,” he said. “Because it shouldn’t be an issue. I thought she was just… God, I don’t know, I didn’t want to cause a problem with the production, it wasn’t worth it. And….”Much to Robert’s surprise, he felt Aaron’s hands holding his, gently.“She’s made you uncomfortable, hasn’t she?” Aaron said, realising his shifty posture wasn't due to guilt at all.“Yes.”“Robert, that’s not right,” Aaron said calmly.“Don’t,” Robert said, shaking his head. “Don’t be so… just kick off, be mad at me.”“Why?”“Might make me feel better,” Robert said, feeling well and truly sorry for himself. Probably aided by whisky.“Come to bed,” Aaron said easily.“But…”“We probably haven’t finished discussing this,” Aaron warned. “But I need sleep, and no offence, but you’re looking pretty pathetic.” Robert let out a quiet snort of laughter.“Just a kiss?” Aaron asked. He had to check, he had to know.“Just a kiss.”“Come to bed,” Aaron repeated. Robert stood up and Aaron held him, Robert needing his strength more than he’d thought before hand. “Tomorrow we go home,” Aaron told him, kissing his lips gently.“Yes,” Robert agreed quietly, knowing that Home Farm was waiting for them. Emmerdale somehow felt safer. “Tomorrow we go back.” Aaron watched Robert sleep, thinking. His husband had fallen asleep relatively quickly, but his body was arched into Aaron’s anyway, head against his shoulder, shins tangling with Aaron’s feet. He trusted Robert. He knew that if it had been more, if Robert wanted her, Robert would probably have kept his mouth shut. That didn’t make him exactly comfortable with it, but even though it wasn’t nice to hear, Aaron would rather know than not. It was the lying that would hurt so much.But now Robert had told him, Aaron couldn’t sleep, keeping thinking about that woman with her hands on his husband, his lover. And it made him seethe with rage. How dare she think she had the right? So Aaron found himself on his phone, a hand absently through Robert’s hair as he did one of his least favourite things. Searching the celebrity gossip columns for information on Rebecca White. He needed to know everything he could about her. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- On the journey up north, Aaron was driving. Robert looked tired, his eyes having purple shadows underneath them and Aaron knew he was more stressed than Robert was admitting.“You don’t have to see her again, right?” Aaron said, correctly reading what was on his husbands mind.“I will at the premier in about four months time, but no,” Robert said. “I might dig out the suit and go with you to that one,” Aaron said, he reached across the car and stroked Robert’s thigh gently.“I had to tell you.”“I know,” Aaron said. “Look, we’ll just take a breather for a few days.”“When’ve you got to go back to work?” Robert asked.“Soon,” Aaron said evasively.“Who don’t you want to see daddy?” Catherine piped up from the backseat.“Oi, nosey,” Aaron said, smiling at her in the mirror. She giggled from her car seat.“Take the next exit for the services,” Robert told him. Aaron did what he said. “Want pancakes?” Robert asked, not above bribing his daughter to change the subject.“Yay!” Aaron caught Robert’s eye and they both smiled. They’d barely got home and put the kettle on when there was a loud knock on the door. Robert opened it, Aaron busy with Catherine and smiled when he saw Chas.“What, have you got an alarm on the house to know when we’re here?” he asked, friendly. Any animosity between the two of them had faded around the time of his wedding to Aaron. And Chas was in love with her granddaughter too.“I haven’t seen her in ages!” Chas said, almost dismissing Robert.“They’re in the lounge,” Robert said. “Tea?” Chas nodded once before going to find Aaron, who was playing with Catherine and one of her sticker books.“Hiya love,” Chas said to Aaron, smiling warmly at him before Catherine ran towards her“Grandma!” she shouted eagerly, Chas cuddling her as the girl chattered away. Aaron got off the floor and sat on the sofa.“How’re you three doing?” Chas asked.“We’re okay,” Aaron said. “Just tired, it’s been a busy month or so.”“I take it that’s what the holidays for?” Chas asked.“Yeah, I think we need it,” Aaron said. “Before we get sucked back into the rat race again.”“Come off it,” Chas said, putting Catherine down and allowing her to show her grandmother all of her toys. “You three don’t have a bad life. Don’t moan for no reason.”“Yeah, okay,” Aaron said with a smile as Robert came into the room, handing Chas her drink.“So where’re you going?” Chas asked them. Aaron sighed heavily, what with recent events he hadn’t actually told Robert about the break for them both.“Mum…” Aaron said, shaking his head at the same time Robert said “Going where?”“Oh,” Chas said. “I’ve um… you said it was all organised!” she said to Aaron.“It is, he just doesn’t know it,” Aaron said. Robert’s eyes narrowed, looking between them.“What’ve I missed?” Robert asked.“It was meant to be a surprise,” Aaron said bitterly. “I was going to tell you this morning, but…”“Yeah,” Robert said, knowing exactly why his mind had been on other things. And not wanting to go into that in front of his mother in law.“I’ve booked a holiday for us,” Aaron said. “A week away, just us.” Robert’s eyes flicked to Catherine. “She’s staying with Chas.”“For the whole week?” Robert asked.“She’ll run rings around mum and Diane,” Aaron said, almost dismissively. It was obvious Catherine was the boss. “You know she will.”“When?” Robert asked.“Three weeks,” Aaron said. “I wanted to do something nice for us, and we haven’t had any time with just the two of us in years.”“We can’t go,” Robert said instantly. “You said we were meeting with potential surrogates that week.”“What?!” Chas asked, interjecting.“Thank you for that,” Aaron said with raised eyebrows to his husband. They didn’t need Chas sticking her oar in, and Aaron had been perfectly fine with withholding that nugget of information.“When?” Chas asked eagerly. “I’m getting another grandchild?”“Slow down,” Aaron said, holding his hands out to her. “A long way to go yet.” He turned to Robert. “And I thought… while it’s just the three of us, we can go away.” Robert looked at the soft expression in his husbands eyes and sighed. It was a wonderful idea, Robert couldn’t deny it. The lure of having Aaron all to himself, uninterrupted was… powerful.“Sure she’ll be all right?” Robert asked, looking at Catherine.“She’ll be fine,” Chas said. “Want to spend a week with grandma?”“A whole week?” Catherine asked blinking.“Does that sound okay?”“I can go to the farm again?” Catherine asked.“I’m sure Moira and great uncle Cain wouldn’t mind that,” Chas said, making the young girl beam. She loved animals. “But you’ve got to make sure to call Cain “great uncle” okay? Make him feel really old.”“Now?!” Catherine asked eagerly.“No, in a few weeks,” Aaron said, smiling at Catherine‘s crestfallen face. “She’ll be fine,” he added to Robert.“I know,” Robert said. “Where are we going?” Aaron smiled, knowing that was a yes.“I’ve got an email with all the information attached,” Aaron said, tapping away on his phone. “It’s nice,” Aaron added, biting his lip as he showed Robert the pictures of the property he’d rented. “Virgin Islands.”“God, that looks amazing,” Robert said. “I can’t really say no, can I?”“I’ve been on the phone to your agent too, you have that week totally free,” Aaron said.“You have been busy,” Robert said, impressed. “Do you like it?” Aaron asked, almost nervously. Big extravagant surprises were more his husbands style, Aaron didn’t do stuff like this.“I’d be stupid to say I didn’t.” Robert kissed him softly. “It’s perfect. Anywhere you picked would be perfect.” Aaron smiled at him and kissed him again, only briefly because of the company.“So what’s been going on in the village since we’ve been gone?” Robert asked Chas, now with a broad grin on his face. It was three days later that their world was rocked completely. The first sign was the call at gone midnight. No one called at that time of day unless it was bad news. Aaron groaned in bed, Robert leaning over his body to pick up the phone.“This better be really good,” Robert said grumpily.“Hi Rob, it’s Liz,” she said.“I thought we’d gone past the days that you worked this late for me,” Robert said to his agent, getting out of bed to leave Aaron to his sleep. He was already snoring by the time Robert got to the door. “Spit it out. You’re calling me for a reason.”“God, Robert, I’ve been working with you for years, and I never thought this was a call I’d have to make.”“Liz, just say it.”“Rebecca White’s been talking to the press.”“So?” Robert asked blankly. “It’s got nothing to do with me.” Liz sighed heavily on the phone.“She’s saying you raped her.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Robert frowned at the phone. “Robert? You still there?”“Yeah, I’m here,” he said, closing the bedroom door quietly, leaving Aaron alone. “I can’t have heard you correctly. I can’t.”“Yeah, well…”“I’ve not touched her!” Robert hissed. “She’s the one who’s been trying it on with me and… God, I… I need a drink.”“Robert, I have to ask…”“No!”“So you’re denying it?” Robert spluttered at her even asking the question. “I mean officially, I didn’t really believe that…”“You’re damn right I’m denying it!” Robert said as loudly as he dared without waking up the rest of the house. “I can’t… look, you know what happened to Aaron, you had only just started as my agent when that was plastered all over the papers. You think… I feel sick.”“If it makes you feel any better, she’s not taking it to the police,” Liz said.“Oh, just the press, the international papers and magazines and online gossip chat rooms and….” Robert gave up, feeling his heart thumping hard at the implications of this. “Why’s she doing it?” Robert asked her, almost desperately. “What’s the point? She’ll have no proof at all.”“Look, I can’t read into her motivations, I don’t know her,” Liz said reasonably.“When and where does she imagination this happened?”“I don’t know,” Liz said“Oh, my God, I’m going to have to tell Aaron,” Robert said, his voice almost breaking. “How do I…”“Look, there’s nothing that needs immediate attention,” Liz said. “But I thought you’d want to know.”“Well, thank you for ruining my nights sleep,” Robert said sarcastically.“Rob, it will work out,” Liz said. “She can’t keep the lie up forever, can she?”“Well, yeah,” Robert said on a sigh. “But long enough to make everyone in the world believe I’m… If she sticks with it, in ten years time this will be what my daughter finds when she googles me.”“I’ll try and fix it,” Liz said after a pause. “I’d advise you and Aaron to stay away from her, no point in making things worse.”“What… where’s the story appearing?” Robert asked. “Where’ve you got the information from?”“Erm… An Australian publication,” Liz said dismissively. “Rebecca’s becoming a patron of a women’s refuge charity over there.”“Oh, bloody brilliant!” Robert said. “So, I’m the villain here? And everyone will believe her because why would she lie? Why would she lie?!” he repeated, asking Liz the question.“I’ll let you go, because I need sleep too. I’ll call you in the morning.”“Bye,” Robert said. He held the phone tightly, his knuckles white as he started to imagine all the horrible ramifications he could suffer from this, from one woman lying.“Daddy?” Catherine asked, coming into the hallway, rubbing her eyes, clearly having heard him.“Go back to sleep,” Robert said kindly. Catherine just blinked at him and Robert got down on his knees. “I just had a call, that’s all. I’m going back to bed. Your other dads already asleep, so you should be asleep too.”“M’kay,” she said. Robert followed her into her bedroom and tucked her in, watching her until she was sound asleep. When she was, Robert quickly dressed, doing it as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Aaron. He needn’t have worried, Aaron was already snoring away. He couldn’t face telling him this accusation. After Aaron’s history, after being feared that no one would believe him about Gordon. To tell him that someone was lying about him in that way. He needed to clear his head, he needed something. He grabbed his keys, left the house, got in his car and drove. The next morning, Aaron barely had the time to worry about where Robert had mysteriously disappeared to. Or not much anyway. Catherine needed breakfast, as did he, and he phoned Robert’s mobile, which went straight through to answer phone as Aaron buttered toast.“Robert, pick up your phone,” Aaron said casually. “Oh, and if you go past a shop we need teabags by the way.” Aaron called again, and again, trying to avoid slipping into worry, just a little concerned. Distantly, he remembered a phone call in the night. Was it something to do with work? Aaron didn’t know, so instead he called Adam, to talk about work at the car showroom, saying he might be late because Robert had vanished into thin air. And he was the one who was supposed to be looking after Catherine today.“Daddy couldn’t sleep last night,” Catherine piped up.“Really?” Aaron asked.“He put me back to bed.”“Did he?” Aaron said. That phone call clearly was important, but not enough to let Aaron know what was going on. Aaron went on the news on his phone to distract himself from whatever Robert was up to. The NHS was on the brink of collapse (again), North Korea and China were seeing who could cause a nuclear war first, and in the showbiz section… Aaron frowned at it. He couldn’t be reading that right. Right? At first he’d only glanced at the article, but now… It was lies, it had to be. Well, obviously it was lies!“Catherine, we’re going to get you changed out of your PJs, get you dressed and then we’re going to see auntie Vic, okay?” Aaron said, making the decision.“Okay,” she said innocently. It was the only place Aaron could think that Robert might have gone. “Is he here?” Aaron asked quietly, shifting Catherine's weight in his arms.“Yeah in the kitchen, what the hell is going on?” Vic asked.“Go and find Holly,” Aaron said to Catherine, putting her on the floor. Aaron went through to the kitchen, finding Robert leaning over the kitchen table as if for support. Aaron didn’t need to ask to know he hadn’t slept. In fact Aaron couldn't remember seeing him look this bad.“Next time you run away, try answering your phone,” Aaron said lightly, pulling a chair out and sitting next to him. Robert still hadn’t looked at him. “Rob, come on.”“I can’t even look at you,” Robert said hollowly.“Robert, you don’t think I believe any of that crap, do you?”“You’re not even going to ask?” Robert said hesitantly, finally looking at him.“No,” Aaron said levelly. “I’m not. Of course I’m not.” Robert had a tiny smile on his face. “Come here, you idiot,” Aaron said, pulling Robert in for a hug. Robert let him, taking strength from his husband, breathing in his scent. God, Aaron smelt so good. “But I am going to give you a lecture about leaving our house in the middle of the night and not letting me know where you are, okay? We've already had far too much to do with kidnappers, remember?"“Fair enough,” Robert said. He kept his face buried in Aaron’s T shirt, needing the comfort.“Don’t run away from me,” Aaron said. “You should know that by now.”“Yeah, I just… panicked,” Robert admitted. “Where’s Catherine?”“She’s here,” Aaron said. “Probably driving Holly up the wall.” Robert smiled tiredly at him.“I love you,” Robert told him.“Good,” Aaron said. “Now stop feeling sorry for yourself, get home and get some sleep.”“Yes boss,” Robert said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at Aaron‘s smile. He still felt absolutely awful, but he knew he needed Aaron by his side, he couldn’t handle this without him. And the fact that Aaron hadn’t even questioned him made Robert feel more secure than he thought possible right now.“Daddy?” Robert looked and saw Catherine blinking at him. He lifted the girl and pulled her into his lap, holding her close. He needed his family right now. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The phone kept ringing. Mostly family, Diane, Chas, Vic (who called several times). Occasionally journalists, though how they’d got his home number was a mystery to Robert. After all this mess, that would need changing. One person who’d been suspiciously quiet since this “story” had broken, was Kat. No phone calls or anything, which was so unlike her. Robert had come to his senses enough to realise that if she hadn’t called, there was a reason, so instead he called her.“I have five minutes, if that,” Kat answered without so much as a hello, a lot of noise in the background.“I thought today you might have made a phone call,” Robert pointed out. “Today of all days.”“I’d be wasting my energy talking about ridiculous lies, so what would be the point?” Robert smiled, feeling a rush of warmth towards his best friend. Like Aaron, she wouldn’t even entertain the thought. “You better not be sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself.”“Maybe,” Robert admitted. “It’s not been the best day I’ve ever had.”“Er… gate 23...” Kat said to herself.“Are you in an airport?” Robert asked.“Yes,” she said. “And I’m very near missing my flight so as nice as this has been, I have to go.”“Kat…” Robert said, starting to become suspicious. “Where’re you going?”“I hear Sydney’s beautiful this time of year,” she deadpanned.“Kat!”“What?” she said innocently. “Someone needs to give that lying bitch a talking to.”“Hold on a second, what about Jacob?” Robert said. “You know, your son?”“Spending quality time with his father,” Kat said. “I didn’t fancy taking him on a twenty four hour flight. And you’re not going to stop me, Robert.”“God…” Robert sighed heavily, but had known Kat long enough to know that she was right. “What could you possibly say that would make this better?”“I’ll get back to you in thirty six hours,” she said. “Anything else?”“Kat?” he asked, his voice wavering.“You’ll be okay,” she said, for the first time her voice softening. “You will be, you’ll all get through this. Okay?”“I’m frightened,” Robert admitted. “That one woman can say something which…”“It’ll be fine,” Kat said. “Anyone who knows you…”“I know,” Robert said. “I know.”“I love you, you know that? You’re stubborn, irritating and God knows you wind me up like hell, but you and Aaron are my best friends.”“Thank you,” Robert said. “I think I needed to hear that today.”“Job done then,” she said brightly. “Or half anyway.”“Don’t fly halfway around the world just to talk to her,” Robert said. “It isn’t worth it.”“Would you do it for me?” Kat asked. There was a silence on the phone line, because they both knew the answer to that one. “Spend some time with your family, I’m going to watch five or six of your most terrible films on the flight.”“Love you too,” Robert said warmly.“They’re calling my flight,” Kat said. “See you in a few days.”“Bye.” Robert hung up and looked at Aaron who’d come into the kitchen.“You’re telling other people you love them are you?” he teased. Aaron knew it had been Kat on the phone.“She’s flying to Australia.”“Okay, why?” Aaron asked, making tea.“I got the impression slapping Rebecca White is job number one,” Robert said.“That’s not going to help,” Aaron observed.“Hey, if you think you can stop her, be my guest,” Robert said, throwing his phone to Aaron. He grinned, but didn’t take Robert up on the offer.“You look better,” Aaron said. A few hours sleep and a shower had done him the world of good, considering.“Kat told me to stop feeling sorry for myself.”“Er, so did I,” Aaron said.“Yeah, well, you’re my husband,” Robert said. “You kind of have to stand by me.”“Like hell I do,” Aaron said. “I want to kill her for what Rebecca's doing, and that’s not just out of loyalty to you.” Robert frowned, wrapping his hands around the mug of tea Aaron gave him. “It’s people like her that… make people like me always afraid that they’re never going to be believed. I always thought… I’d left it too long about… Gordon. No one would believe me after so long being silent. So, take you out of it, I’d still hate her for lying about something so hideous.” Robert moved, and leaned his head against Aaron’s shoulder, folding into his husband. He didn’t know how long they stayed there, sat on their wooden kitchen chairs, draped over each other in the quiet. They both looked when they heard quiet bare feet on the floor.“Er, why aren’t you in bed mischief?” Robert asked.“Well, you’re not either,” she pointed out with a child’s logic.“That’s a good point,” Aaron said fairly, smiling at her. “Come on, I’ll take you back to bed.” Aaron lifted her into his arms and Catherine buried her face in Aaron’s shoulder. She waved a hand at Robert in goodnight and he smiled at her. “Daddy seems sad,” Catherine said as Aaron pulled the My Little Pony duvet over her.“He’s had a bad day,” Aaron said. “It’ll get better.”“Promise?”“Promise,” Aaron said instantly, though he wasn’t sure he should be making that kind of promise to her. He couldn’t see a good way out of this.“Okay then,” she said with a child’s trust. “Night daddy.”“Goodnight princess.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “I can’t sleep,” Robert said.“I know,” Aaron replied. He gave up on the concept of sleep and turned the bedside lamp on. “Talk to me.”“I have nothing to say,” Robert said. “How anyone could say… that about anyone when it wasn’t true. I don’t understand.”“It’s the most difficult thing to say when it is true,” Aaron said.“Why didn’t you tell me?” Robert asked. They rarely talked about Gordon these days, it was so far in the past that it was no longer relevant. Not that Aaron wasn’t effected by it, he was, always would be. But it didn’t effect their relationship, and Robert didn’t want to dig up bad memories for the conversation unless Aaron initiated it. And he rarely did. “Back then, about Gordon. I’d have been… oh, God, I don’t know.”“I’ll admit it’s been quite a while since I picked up a man for a one night stand,” Aaron said. That did get a smile from Robert.“I should hope so too,” Robert said.“But you really think I’d mention it when I just wanted sex?”“Now, I’m curious,” Robert said, slightly amused. “Is that all you wanted from me when you met me?”“It was a big part of your appeal, yeah,” Aaron said, dodging Roberts wandering hands trying to tickle him and laughing. The laughter faded after a few seconds and Aaron saw the shutters go down behind Robert’s eyes.“Seriously, you were supposed to be a one night stand, and if it was anything more than that, it would only be casual. I didn’t foresee this. Spending my life with you, making my family with you. I didn’t plan this, I didn’t plan to fall in love with you. When I realised I was in love with you I was trying to work up to telling you. But it‘s never easy to talk about.”“No,” Robert agreed. “Do you think about it even now?”“Yeah,” Aaron said. “Not often, but it’s always there. Do you think of Leah cutting your face open?” Aaron ran his thumb down Robert’s scar gently, and Robert grasped his wrist, turning it and kissing the soft skin there.“Not often,” Robert said, smiling at him. “But yes, I do.” Robert sighed. “I know the press…”“Forget them,” Aaron said, cutting him off.“They’re digging…”“Into my past,” Aaron said. “I know. But I don’t care. Let the journalists print what they want, they will anyway.”“I don’t know how you’re so strong,” Robert said, marvelling quietly.“I’m not,” Aaron said. “Just… nothing I can do about it anyway, so best leave it.” Robert wrapped his arms around Aaron carefully, pulling him close.“I love you,” Robert told him.“Mm, you too.”Kat was way too tired, she hadn’t managed to fall asleep on the plane. And she wasn’t going to waste time at the hotel when she could be giving Rebecca a piece of her mind, not now she was so close. The only thing she did do was check her make up in the mirror, because she was damned if she was going to confront her looking like she’d been dragged through a hedge. Hair and face in place, she followed the address her agent had given her in a taxi. And even though she knew this probably wouldn’t go over well, she was too angry to stop herself.After knocking on her door (a rather nice house hidden down a half a mile private road) Kat started questioning the wisdom of this. There was a chance she could make this a lot worse.“Yes?” Rebecca asked, answering the door. It was her smiling happy face that made Kat see red. She couldn’t help it, this woman was smiling, while Robert’s life was being torn to pieces? It was that more than anything else that made Kat’s right hand move without willing it, slapping the smug smile off that stupid cows face.“What the hell?” Rebecca asked, her hands going to her cheek. “And before you go and report me for assault, or whatever else it is your twisted brain can come up with, just know that if I was really trying to hurt you, you wouldn’t be able to get back on your feet.”“Oh,” Rebecca said the pieces slotting into place. “This is about Robert.”“Well, for an idiot, you at least got one thing right.”“You better come in,” Rebecca said, moving into her kitchen. “Unless you’re going to get violent again.”“No promises,” Kat said, the impulse to just shake this woman out of her lies incredibly strong.“Look, I don’t know what Robert’s been telling you…”“I’ve not spoken to him,” Kat said. Which was a lie, she knew Rebecca meant about this mess. And Kat would never question Robert about this. “I don’t need to talk to him, I know you’re lying.”“You have a lot of faith in your… friend.”“What, that he’s not the worst kind of human imaginable?” Kat asked with a scowl. “Yes, I do.”“Not because you have some twisted threesome kind of thing going on?” Rebecca askedThere was a beat of silence. “Okay, what is wrong with you?” Kat asked. “Does everything have to do with sex? Is it too hard a concept to understand that I might be friends with two men, just because I like them?”“It’s being retracted.”“What?” Kat asked blankly.“The interview. I was misquoted,” Rebecca said.“Oh, don’t give me that crap,” Kat said. “That’s a hell of a leap to jump to, for even the most terrible half assed journalist to make.”“I was pissed off with him,” Rebecca admitted.“Oh, did he knock you back?” Kat said in a childlike voice. “He’s married!”“Yeah, well most people don’t act like a wedding ring stops them!” Rebecca snapped. She sighed heavily. “I didn’t say what they printed. It will be being retracted.”“Well, what did you say?!” Kat snapped. “Robert wouldn’t go near you!”“I wasn’t thinking!”“Shocking,” Kat said, rolling her eyes.“I was talking about the charity work,” Rebecca said. “The whole article was meant to be about that, but Melissa Stevens needs an axe to the brain.”“Who?” Kat said.“The journalist. She twisted absolutely everything I said, to make it fit her perverted view of the world. She kept asking questions about why I didn’t like Robert after having just worked so closely with him. She wanted a story to go with the “face” behind the campaign.” Kat spluttered. “I didn’t say what she printed. God, I don’t want people to think I’m a liar. I’d go to the police if I thought that, I wouldn’t tell some low life from the press!”“If that was really the case, you could have fixed this days ago by releasing a statement, denying it,” Kat said. “Not gone under this silence you‘ve been doing.”“My lawyers told me to keep my mouth shut and let them deal with it.”“Have you got any idea what you’re doing to Robert?” Kat asked. “What am I even doing, you clearly don’t have a conscience.”“Melissa Stevens has been suspended,” Rebecca said. “She won’t ever work in journalism again.”“Well, I’m sure that’ll give Robert his reputation back,” Kat said sarcastically. “You’re so weak, you could have fixed this.”“Fine,” Rebecca said. “Now you’ve insulted me, you can leave my house.”“Was your aim to break up Robert’s marriage? Was that your grand plan?” Kat pushed.“I didn’t think that far ahead,” Rebecca said. “How is he?”“Who?”“Robert!” Rebecca snapped.Kat couldn’t believe she was even asking this. “Aaron’s upset because he has no chance of proving his husbands innocence over something so awful. Their little girl, Catherine, she’s three, she doesn’t understand why both of her parents are miserable when she used to literally have the picture perfect upbringing. Robert’s sister, Victoria’s fielding calls from the press, which she’s not told Robert because she doesn’t want to worry him. Several UK publications have dug up Aaron’s awful history and running with it, because how could he be married to someone like that? For years, without knowing? And all you care about is Robert? That says something disgusting about you.” Kat knew she was wasting her breath and left her house. She wasn’t sure if she felt better or worse, but once back at the hotel she called the magazine, and tried to find out if what Rebecca told her was true. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “So the accusations front page news, the retractions on page 15,” Aaron said with anger.“I know,” Robert said. “But I think we owe Kat a drink. Or several.”“She’s like a caged tiger when she gets going,” Aaron said. “I didn’t know that about her.”“Then you’ve never seen her severely pissed off,” Robert said. Kat had told them that she’d camped out at the magazines offices until they’d sacked the journalist, rather than a simple suspension, and she’d been hounding them to make an announcement. Which they had reluctantly done. However, the general feeling among the public was that it was possibly true, at least in a more minor form, but that neither of them wanted the publicity. Despite both Rebecca’s agent and Roberts teaming together to deny it utterly, the problem was it had taken too long.“I don’t think we should go away on holiday,” Robert said as Aaron sat next to him on the sofa. “It’s… bad timing what with everything.”“Or it could be perfect timing,” Aaron said. “Get away from it all, no press watching our every move. I see them in the village. Takes me back to when I first met you.” Robert smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Some time had passed, and they were meant to leave on Sunday. But even though it had been denied, Robert hadn’t got back to normal. He looked like he’d aged five years in the space of a couple of weeks. “I heard,” Robert said. “The phone call.”“I wasn’t going to tell you,” Aaron said, curling up close to him on the sofa. "Or not now anyway."“We’re off the list, aren’t we?” Robert said sadly.“Yes,” Aaron said. No point outright lying about it.“That’s so unfair,” Robert said, without heat. “I’ve not been charged with anything, it’s just one random article in a magazine who’ll be bankrupt by the end of the year.”“Will they?” Aaron asked, taking the diversion.“Yeah, I’ve got lawyers on it,” Robert said. “Don’t worry about that.”“Alright. But the agency’s… they hear things, because you’re you,” Aaron said. “If you were someone normal, it wouldn’t be registering the way it is.” One red flag surrogacy or adoption agencies could not cope with, was anything to do with sexual assault. It seemed particularly unfair, as it’d been since denied by everyone involved, but the five day gap between the article and the retraction was damning. “Maybe give it time to settle down, and try again,” Aaron suggested.“No,” Robert said. “It’s my fault we can’t have any more kids.”“No,” Aaron said. “It is not your fault, it’s hers for lying. It’s the journalist for writing the article, and it’s the magazines for publishing it.”“If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not exactly working,” Robert warned. Aaron moved and kissed Robert’s jaw gently. “You could do it on your own,” Robert said. “Just for the official forms and the like.”“I’m not going through surrogacy on my own,” Aaron said. “We’re a family, we do it together or not at all.”“Look, I appreciate your loyalty…”“Right, you’re starting to wind me up now,” Aaron said, backing away from Robert so he could look in his eyes. “It’s not loyalty, we come as three. That’s all there is to it. I’m not doing it alone.” Robert smiled at him weakly and pulled him close, kissing him passionately. “Upstairs?” Robert suggested when things started getting heated. Aaron grinned. “Oh, would you calm down!” Aaron huffed, exasperated, annoyed, and desperately turned on. Robert had got moody and locked himself in the bathroom, once it had become obvious that he was having difficulties getting hard. Aaron groaned, his body was pulsing with need and he breathed deeply to calm himself down. Once he had, or at least a little, he went to the bathroom and knocked on the locked door. “Robert, come on,” he said. “It doesn’t matter, can we just get to bed and sleep?” Still nothing. “Fine, be a miserable git,” Aaron said, too tired to be subtle about it.Aaron was very nearly asleep when Robert joined him in bed, finally getting out of the bathroom and curling up next to him. “It’s fine,” Aaron said quietly.“No, it’s not,” Robert said.“Look, you’re stressed, it’s been a bad couple of weeks. Stop making it such a big deal.”Robert sighed, but kissed Aaron’s forehead anyway. “I feel so useless,” he admitted. “Sorry.”“Come here,” Aaron said, kissing him softly. Robert gave himself over to it for a long minute until he parted.“I think we’ve got company.” They both looked to the door to see Catherine there and Aaron nodded at her. She grinned and took the silent signal, jumping on the bed between the two men.“It’s late,” Aaron said. “So we have to be really quiet and go to sleep. Okay?”“Okay daddy,” she agreed. Aaron batted her blonde curls away from his face as she turned to Robert. “Are you not sad any more?”“I’m okay,” Robert said, smiling slowly. “Because I’ve got you, and I’ve got your other daddy. So… I’ll be all right in the end.” Catherine smiled and Robert made sure his arm reached over their daughter and rested his fingers on Aaron’s hip. Aaron smiled at him and kissed him briefly. Before kissing Catherine’s hair and closing his eyes. “What’re you having?” Aaron asked.“White wine please,” Kat said, leaning up against the bar of the Woolpack. Aaron nodded to Chas, who was already pouring Aaron’s usual pint. Robert was sitting in the corner booth, smiling at Catherine who was playing, loudly.“So, quiet trip was it?”“Oh, it was great,” Kat said. “I think I made a nuisance of myself.”“Do you?” Aaron asked with fake innocence. “Thank you for everything.”“God! She just made me so angry!” Kat said.“How about we don’t ruin tonight talking about her?” Aaron suggested.“Fine,” she agreed, taking her wine from Chas with a smile. “How’s he doing?” she asked, nodding at Robert. “He seems… quiet. Less like his usual sarcastic snide self.”“He is,” Aaron said. “I can’t really get through to him, it’s like… we’ve forgotten how to get back to normal. We’ve forgotten how to be us and…” he sighed heavily. “Sometimes I feel like Catherine’s the only thing gluing us together.”“Now, you don’t mean that,” Kat said. “It’s not been that long, give him some time.”“Maybe,” Aaron agreed. “Anyway, we go away tomorrow, maybe that will… help.”“Maybe,” Kat said.“Speaking of, you’re awfully tanned,” Aaron noticed. "And you were in Australia longer than strictly necessary.“Well, I didn’t spend the entire time camped outside the press office,” Kat said, smiling. “I needed to go to a beach or two. Meet a guy. Or two.”“Oh, yeah,” Aaron said, smiling. “And…?”“I was childless on a beach!” Kat said with a shrug. “Forgive me for having a little bit of fun.”Aaron laughed into his pint, before turning around and catching Robert’s eyes. He looked tired, and for the first time since Aaron had known him, a little old, a little worn around the edges. Aaron hoped Kat was right, that they’d get past this. He really hoped so, because he couldn’t imagine his life without Robert in it. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- On the flight, Robert slept for the majority of it. Aaron didn’t disturb him, knowing he needed the rest. Saying goodbye to Catherine had been quiet in the end, Chas having sat her down in front of a DVD after hugging both of her fathers goodbye. She’d been far too easy, and Aaron would call her when they landed. Though he didn’t have any doubts about Chas being able to look after her, and he and Robert needed a break, whatever the circumstances.Robert woke when the plane was preparing to land, looking around dozily. “I didn’t sleep for the whole flight,” he said.“Okay,” Aaron replied, not really wanting to argue with him.“Wow,” he said, rubbing his face and trying to wake himself up. “Sorry.”“Don’t be, you needed it. It’s been a hard month.”“Yeah,” he agreed. “We’ll call home when we get off the plane, right?”“Course we will,” Aaron agreed. They did, but Catherine was already asleep, Chas promising them both that she’d been fine. Chatting a hundred miles an hour apparently, as happy as she usually was. It settled both men’s minds, as this was the first time they’d left her for days on end with someone else, even though they both trusted Chas. “You rented this?” Robert asked quietly, looking around the massive house, built on its very own private island.“Yeah,” Aaron said. “I thought we could be a bit extravagant and I wanted to surprise you. Before everything happened and the world caved in.”“God, Aaron, it’s amazing!” Robert said. It was, a modern house, several luxurious bedrooms, an adjoining pool that faced the ocean, their own private haven. Plus quite a bit of private beach all for the two of them. And the kitchen was fully stocked, so they wouldn’t actually have to leave the island if they didn’t want to.“I should admit, I can’t afford the whole thing,” Aaron said. “I didn’t think you’d mind…” Robert shrugged, indifferently. He wasn’t particularly precious with his fortune, because Aaron was his husband and he wanted to spend his money on his family. And Aaron knew that, so it wasn’t a big issue. Robert pulled Aaron into his arms, holding him close, feeling the flex of his muscles through their clothes.“Thank you,” Robert said lowly into Aaron’s neck. “This is perfect.”“You haven’t even seen the whole house yet,” Aaron said. “I wanted somewhere away from the press.” Robert almost snorted at that, because he understood that impulse very well. Robert kissed him gently.“Lets eat,” Robert said, having slept through the meal on the plane, not that he enjoyed food on planes in the first place. Aaron smiled and agreed.They didn’t do much for the first twenty four hours, beyond relax and call home, having conversations with Catherine, who seemed to have barely noticed they'd gone. Aaron knew Robert needed this time to unwind, and he didn’t begrudge him that in the slightest. Aaron for his part was enjoying swimming in the heated pool, with no fear that any stranger would see his self harm scars and judge him for it. It felt so freeing and even when he could feel Robert’s eyes on him, he didn’t feel self conscious. He always enjoyed Robert watching him, a lot more than he’d ever admit.“You going to join me?” Aaron asked as Robert sat on the edge and dipped his feet into the pool, trousers rolled up to his knees.“Why bother when I’m enjoying the view?” Robert flirted, and Aaron grinned. He’d missed this side of his husband lately. This side that made Aaron’s breath catch and wonder how he’d got this lucky.“Shall I give you a better view?” Aaron teased. Robert’s forehead creased as Aaron twisted in the water, taking off his shorts off and throwing them at Robert, who dodged them with a laugh. When smiling, Robert looked years younger and… well, Aaron couldn’t resist. He grabbed Robert’s calves and pulled him into the pool with a splash. When he came up for air, spluttering, his shirt plastered to his chest Aaron couldn’t stop laughing when Robert tightened his arms around him.“God, I love you,” Robert said quietly.“I love you,” Aaron replied. “I wouldn’t change anything about our life.”“Really?” Robert asked. “Not even…”“Not one thing,” Aaron said surely. Robert smiled into a kiss as his hands started wandering over Aaron’s body, making the younger man moan slightly. Robert’s palm stroked his jaw gently.“Inside?” Aaron suggested, voice a little hoarse.“Why bother?” Robert said. “I don’t think we’ve ever been more alone.” And Aaron could hardly argue that, could he? Aaron found Robert lying on the beach, almost undressed as he soaked up the sun. Aaron swallowed, trying not to drool over his husbands body, all tanned and the new freckles appearing on his chest, almost daily by now. Even after all this time, Aaron still felt so physically drawn to Robert that it was a struggle to keep his hands to himself. Especially when he didn’t have to. Aaron stroked his chest gently as he sat next to him.“Take your shirt off then,” Robert said bluntly, squinting at him above his sunglasses.“No,” Aaron said. “I don’t get a tan like you, I just burn.”“I could rub it better,” Robert suggested and Aaron rolled his eyes with humour. “How’s your mum?” When Robert had left the house, Aaron had been skyping with Chas, Catherine having gone to bed after saying goodnight to both her fathers.“Fine,” Aaron said. “A bit tired, I think looking after Catherine for so long’s tiring her out.” Robert smiled, not worried about their daughter in the slightest. Catherine had been rambling about the sheep she’d seen up at Moira’s, almost fit to burst with excitement from it all.“You know something, we needed this,” Robert said. “It was a good idea, thank you.”“You’re paying for most of it,” Aaron said, shrugging. “I don’t care,” Robert said. “It’s been wonderful.” He kissed Aaron gently, Aaron frowning back when Robert’s sunglasses bumped into his nose. Robert laughed quietly. “We need to talk about more kids.”“No we don’t,” Aaron said.“We do,” Robert said. “I can’t be the reason… I mean, we can work around it.”“Robert, I don’t need a kid who’s biologically mine,” Aaron said surely. “That was never what this was about.”“You don’t know Catherine’s mine,” Robert said. Aaron stared at him in disbelief. “Right, when we get home, I’ll count her freckles, ruffle her blonde hair and look into blue eyes I first fell in love with on the man next to me.”“All right,” Robert conceded. “I didn’t want us to ever know.”“Neither of us can help that she looks like you,” Aaron said. “Anyway, having a second child was never me saying “I want a kid that’s mine” you know?”“I do know that,” Robert said. “But still, I wanted a bigger family, with you. If it was something you wanted too.”“Maybe we can still have that,” Aaron said. “Give it some time to calm down, maybe in a year… we never know what will happen.”“So we’re saying… not now,” Robert said slowly. “But maybe one day.”“Yeah, maybe,” Aaron said. “I’d do the same again.”“About what?” Robert asked confused.“I wouldn’t change Catherine to make her mine,” Aaron said steadily. “She’s more mine than I ever thought I’d get.”“I know,” Robert said quietly, feeling his heart race as Aaron kissed him, very softly. He loved this man so much, he’d give up all his fortune, everything material he had just to have his family safe, if he had to. “I love you.”“Love you too.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “I wasn’t sleeping,” Robert said quickly.“Yeah, okay,” Aaron said, humouring his husband as Robert blinked himself awake. He wasn’t an old man, he didn’t need to doze off on his sofa. Of course not. “While you were not sleeping, Catherine called.”“She okay?”“Yeah, she’ll be here in ten minutes.”“God, Aaron, why didn’t you wake me?”“I thought you weren’t asleep,” Aaron said with a laugh, going into the kitchen to make a cup of tea for them both. Robert didn’t let him get away with that, following after him and tickling his waist, making Aaron do that half giggle that was so innocent and distinctly Aaron. Before either man made the decision to move, they found themselves kissing. Making out like bloody teenagers, but Aaron couldn’t help it. Sometimes he found himself looking at Robert, wondering how he could still be so physically attracted to the same man after so many years. “I love you,” Aaron whispered. Robert grinned, kissing his jaw before whispering the same into his skin.“Hi!” came the shout from the hallway. Aaron arched his head away from Robert, but kept his hands on his waist, until Catherine came into the kitchen, looking windswept and very happy, dropping a bag on the kitchen floor.“Hi sweetheart,” Robert said, pulling her into a hug. Catherine let him before turning to give Aaron a hug too.“So…” Aaron said. “Want to tell us what we’ve done to deserve this unexpected visit?”“I can come and visit my parents if I want to, can’t I?” Catherine said, gazing at them in a way that didn’t fool Aaron for one second. It didn’t fool Aaron when Robert looked at him that way either.“Come on,” Aaron said, pointing at her. “I’ve been around for way too long for that look to work on me. It’s the look you gave me when you wanted more sweets as a toddler.” Catherine rolled her eyes. “Spit it out.”“Um…” Catherine said, suddenly looking shifty.“You’re not in trouble are you?” Robert asked, concerned for the first time she’d come through the door. “We can fix it, whatever it is.” Robert had already moved to his pocket to grab his phone.“No, I’m not in trouble,” Catherine said, shaking her head. “So thanks for the implication of your very expensive lawyers and solicitors, but I don’t think I’ll be needing them.”“Go on,” Aaron said, sitting at the kitchen table. “Just tell us. Or do I need a beer first. Whisky?” he added when Catherine didn’t seem forthcoming.“I um… William asked me to marry him,” Catherine said, beaming at them both. Robert looked at Aaron and returned to his phone.“Think I do need that solicitor,” Robert said darkly.“Dad!”“Robert,” Aaron said quietly, though he didn’t tear his eyes off of Catherine. She looked like she was glowing, clearly so happy.“Look, I know you two take over-protectiveness to a different level,” she started, trying to speak calmly. “But I love him, and I’m really happy with him. Please don’t act like this is a disaster.” Still silence from the two men, who shared a glance. “I have not been hiding my engagement ring from the press for a week, so you could react like this!” Catherine burst out. “I wanted to tell you in person. Come on, you like Will.”“Well…”“All right, you don’t hate him,” Catherine edited.“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it traditional to ask the father of the bride his permission?” Robert said carefully.“He didn’t want to spoil the surprise!” Catherine said. “He knows the three of us are close. And you can be quite an intimidating man,” she added to Robert.“Er, hello? I was an option too,” Aaron put in.“Exactly! How was he meant to pick between the pair of you!?” Catherine sighed. “Please don’t make me feel bad about this, not when I’m so happy.”“Of course we’re happy for you,” Aaron said, reaching across the table and squeezing Catherine’s hand. She let out a small nervous smile. “If it’s what you want.”“I do want this,” she said. “So much.”“Why isn’t he here himself?” Robert asked dully.“We decided it might be slightly better coming from me,” Catherine said. “He wanted to come, but ideally I’d like him alive for our wedding.” She raised her eyebrows pointedly and Robert allowed himself a small smile.“If he hurts you...” Robert started.“Yeah, I get the picture,” Catherine said briefly.“You’re too young, Catherine,” Aaron started.“I’m older than you were when you met him,” Catherine said bluntly, pointing to Robert sternly. “So don’t even try it.” That did get a laugh from Robert and some of the tension was broken. “I love him,” Catherine said.“Then I guess congratulations are in order,” Robert said.“Yeah?” she asked. Robert nodded and hugged her, Catherine’s face lighting up like a beacon, now that she’d got some kind of acceptance.“We only ever wanted you to be happy,” Aaron said, chipping in. “It’s all that matters.” Catherine smiled into a hug with Aaron. “Go on,” Aaron said in bed that night. He’d been able to see the tension in Robert all evening, but luckily he was a good enough actor that he’d been able to hide most of it from Catherine.“She’s making a mistake,” Robert said surely.“You don’t know that.”“I do,” Robert said. “He’s no good for her. It’ll ruin her life.”“My mother said that about you a long time ago,” Aaron pointed out.“Well, that was different,” Robert snapped. “And I proved her wrong.”“Yes, you did,” Aaron agreed. “Give Will a chance.”“No,” Robert replied stubbornly.“Give him a chance, or no sex until you do.”“What?” Robert said with a scowl. “How the hell is that fair?”“If you don’t give the man she picked a fair shot,” Aaron said. “Catherine won’t forgive you. It‘ll upset her, it won‘t make her change her mind about Will, and I couldn’t bear it if there was such a gap between the three of us. And… if it does fall apart, she‘ll need both of us.”“When did you get so intuitive?” Robert asked. Aaron shrugged but didn’t answer. “Fine, he’ll get one chance. But he’s not hurting our daughter, I’ll kill him if he does.”“I know,” Aaron said, curling up in Robert’s arms. “But you’d have to get in there quick, because I’d do the damage first. I might be getting up there, but I'm still handy with my fists.” Robert laughed into Aaron’s hair, a little happier before sinking off to sleep. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Robert sighed, screwing up what must be the tenth sheet of paper and trying again. He was attempting to make his father of the bride speech and he was failing abysmally. He and Aaron had decided that Robert was going to be the one to make the speech, as he was by far the more comfortable one speaking in front of a lot of people and Aaron didn’t want to do it. And it wasn’t just one of these things that he said he didn’t want to do but really did. The prospect of giving a speech on Catherine’s wedding day in front of all her guests, and in Aaron’s words “messing it all up” was not one he relished. Though right now, Robert was regretting agreeing to do it all himself. It was harder than he thought to write a speech about their little girl.“Hi.” Robert looked up and saw Catherine at the door frame. “What’re you up to?”“Nothing,” Robert said. “Or… attempting to write a speech for your wedding and it’s not going well. I keep getting distracted.”“You left it until the day before my wedding to write the speech?” Catherine asked. Robert shrugged. It’s not like he hadn’t tried before, but Catherine was difficult to put into words good enough for her. “Anyway, distracted by what?” she asked, sitting on the sofa next to Robert. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.“I keep thinking about the week before you were born,” Robert said quietly. Catherine stayed silent, wanting to listen to the story. “We were worried. So worried actually, and you were two weeks late. So we had extra time to worry.”“Worried about what?”“Well…” Robert started, thinking about how to phrase it. “Surrogacy is a strange one. Because you know the baby’s yours, you know in a few days your life is going to change forever. And yet, the pregnant woman isn’t here, wasn’t living with us and we couldn’t see her or you whenever we wanted. It felt really strange in those last few days. Especially as we knew you could come any time. And we were… a little afraid she wouldn’t want to give you up when you were born. Because who would want to give you up?” Catherine smiled a little at that. “When you were born, Aaron was the first one to hold you,” Robert said.“Was he?”“Yeah,” Robert said. “He was the closest and the midwife handed him you. Aaron’s always been… always keeps his emotions close, guarded. Even with me, he didn’t allow himself to fall in love with me until he felt pretty sure I wasn’t going to up and leave him at the first chance I got. I’ve never seen him fall in love so instantly.” Catherine’s grin widened. “All it took was him setting eyes on you. He didn’t want to pass you over to me, didn’t want to let you go.”“No?”“No,” Robert said. “And then when he did, he told me “don’t you dare drop her!” Like I was ever going to do that.” Robert smiled at the memory. “You were so gorgeous, so perfect.”“Were?” Catherine said with a sly smile“Are,” Robert edited. “You're beautiful.”“So…” Catherine said when it was clear Robert had finished that story. “What are the chances that I’m going to get dad to dance with me at my wedding?”“I’m working on it,” Robert said. “He will, just needs a nudge.”“I really want to dance with him on my wedding day,” Catherine said. “And I know he doesn’t dance, and I’m not picking between you two, but…”“He’s difficult to persuade, I know,” Robert said. “I’m working on it,” he repeated. “Trust me.”“I know I haven’t really asked,” Catherine said. “But I didn’t think I needed to. You’re both giving me away, right?”“Yes,” Robert said before she could even finish the sentence. “Don’t worry about that. No other option, not even for a second.”“Good,” she said warmly.“What’ve I missed?” They both looked to see Aaron coming into the room, watching them curled up on the sofa together. Catherine lifted her feet up in invitation and Aaron sat next to his family.“We’re talking about when I was born,” Catherine said.“Robert tell you he cried?” Aaron asked.“So did you,” Robert countered. Aaron didn’t deny it.“Got your dress all sorted?” Aaron asked.“Yeah, it got delivered today with it‘s final adjustments. I’ve tried it on and… it’s perfect.”“Good,” Robert said. “Nervous?”“Is it weird to say no?” she said slowly. “I’m excited, I’m so happy, but no I’m not nervous. Maybe I will be tomorrow but…”“That’s good,” Aaron said quietly. “Excited’s good.”“Were you two nervous?”“Before our first wedding, yes,” Aaron said. “I thought he’d change his mind.”“And I thought Aaron wouldn’t show up,” Robert added. “I don’t think we were nervous for our second wedding. Or not nearly as much.”“No,” Aaron agreed. “By that point it was pretty obvious I couldn’t get rid of him.” Robert reached over Catherine to give him a good elbow, and the three of them ended up laughing.“You should go and get some sleep. Big day tomorrow,” Robert said.“Yeah, I should,” she said. “Don’t let me oversleep, I’ve got hair and makeup coming in the morning so…”“Yeah, yeah,” Aaron said, waving his hand dismissively. She kissed both her parents, then went upstairs, leaving both men alone. “Can’t believe we got here,” Aaron said. “It feels like yesterday I was twenty four and trying to sneak out of your house after having a one night stand with Hollywood’s latest star.”“It does feel like yesterday,” Robert agreed. “And you were never a one night stand, you just took a long time to be convinced of that.”“Couldn’t believe you wanted me,” Aaron admitted. “Some days I still can’t.” Robert moved and kissed him gently, lovingly.“Ready for tomorrow?”“Seeing our daughter fly the nest? Not really,” Aaron said, and Robert smiled. “You know something? I look at you sometimes and I think, God I want you so much. Still.” It’s unusual for Aaron to come up with things like this so Robert appreciated it. “I never thought I would. All these years later.”“I look at you and want you too,” Robert said. “I don’t… I still see you as you were when I met you. I know we’ve changed, obviously, but… you’re you, and that’s it.” Aaron smiled and kissed him, pressing his body into the sofa gently.“I’ve got something to tell you,” Robert said and Aaron shook his head.“No, you don’t,” Aaron said softly.“I do.”“Your agent called me by mistake a couple of weeks ago,” Aaron said. “I already know.”“Why haven’t you said anything?” Robert marveled.“I was waiting for you to tell me,” Aaron said. “Wondered how long it would take you.”“Aaron…” Robert said lowly. “I was waiting for the right moment.”“You don’t have to retire,” Aaron said. “Actors can go on way into their old age.”“Er… how old do you think I am?” Robert asked, stung.“You know what I mean,” Aaron said.“Yeah, I do,” Robert said. “And I could do it, keep acting, keep being sent on location. But I don’t want to. I want to be boring, stay at home with you and just… be with my family and friends. I don’t need to work, and I’m old enough now that… I don’t want to either.”“How long’ve you been thinking about this?” Aaron asked.“Before I went to Paris,” Robert said. “I always thought that would be my last film.”“I do wish you’d talked to me about it,” Aaron said. “It’s our lives, not just yours.”“I know,” Robert said. “Unless you think living in the same house as me for weeks, months on end would put an intolerable strain on our marriage and…” Aaron laughed at that. After so long, that was extremely unlikely. “Will you dance with Catherine tomorrow?”“Course I will,” Aaron said. “I’m just grumbling about it. Though, I never thought I’d dance with a woman on her wedding day.” Robert smiled at that.“I hate to think of how my life would have gone if I’d never met you,” Robert said seriously.“Yeah,” Aaron agreed. “I feel the same. But we made… quite a life for ourselves didn’t we?”“It’s not over yet,” Robert said indignantly. “I’m planning on having a long, long retirement and we never do boring.”“No, we don’t,” Aaron agreed. “And Catherine might not be nervous about tomorrow, but I sure as hell am.”“She’s radiant,” Robert said honestly. “This is what she wants.”“I know. I love you.”“I love you.” Robert pulled Aaron to him and held him close. Aaron revelled in the touch, he never had got used to it over their marriage, and now it had been so long he doubted he ever would. Sometimes he felt like he could explode with how much love he had for this man.“Are you sure about retirement?”“Yes,” Robert said. “Let someone else do the press tours, the overnight flights that no one ever sleeps on, and the thirty hour shoots with no break. I am sure.”“Okay,” Aaron said. “I hate to say it, but we’re not as young as we used to be.”“Speak for yourself,” Robert grumbled. Aaron moved, kissed his way down the scar on Robert’s cheek. It had faded somewhat, but not nearly enough for the reminder to vanish. Aaron moved to Robert’s mouth, kissing him deeply. “Go up to bed. I’ve got to write this speech,” Robert said, turning away from him.“Let me help,” Aaron said. “I should at least put something in. She’s my daughter too.”“Okay,” Robert said. “You get the beers.” Aaron laughed under his breath and went into the kitchen while Robert sorted out his notes. It didn’t really matter what they wrote down, all that mattered was that the three of them were happy. And that was more than enough.
10108889	Meet Up	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Adult Reborn, Sawada Tsunayoshi", "Fandom": "Katekyou Hitman Reborn!", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by chadleorio", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00", "words": "939", "Additional Tags": "cyber security au, Tea Shop Setting, Alternate Universe", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Cyber Security", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Tsuna’s visit to Italy wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Iemitsu was working constantly the entire week Tsuna was there so he was mainly left on his own. It gave him more of a chance to walk around and explore the city. He got lost more than he’d like to admit to his father though. It was peaceful to be able to go at his own pace around everywhere. He loved the architecture of the town, how it was so sturdy yet still old looking. The smell of baking bread, grinding coffee, and spices in the air as he went through the streets soon was a source of comfort in such a foreign place. He had managed to find a small little Japanese tea shop to spend his lunch times too. He usually just got something like bubble tea or a small pastry while watching the city and the life it breathed. He found comfort in watching the people amble by, some talking excitedly, others with children pulling them, or somebody sprinting back to work. It reminded him that there was some normalcy in life. After a couple of days, he became painfully aware of somebody sitting in the same seat every time Tsuna walked into the small and cramped shop. He wasn’t sure what it was that was setting him off but there was a certain aspect of his face that looked familiar. By the third day, Tsuna had realized it was Reborn. He had thought of it in his half asleep state the night before and positively vibrated with nerves at the thought. He knew from his dad that Reborn had a habit of practically stalking somebody just to pull a prank. Was this what was going to happen? He was wrong, as always, though, as the next day Reborn had been dressed without his disguise and was sitting where Tsuna usually did. Tsuna felt his face drop as he tried to find another way he could see out the window but Reborn beckoned him over. “Why are you-” “-I want to piss of your dad by spending time with you when he forbade me.” Reborn said ‘forbade’ with sarcasm and an eyeroll. “He may be my boss but you run your own life and I don’t take orders from him about mine. So how are you?” Tsuna blinked, opening his mouth in confusion, before closing it. “Why are you so intent on pissing off my dad?” Reborn shrugged, snagging a piece of the muffin Tsuna had. “Why not? He never gives it a rest on how much he loves his family yet never visits you. He knows it annoys me and does it to try and get me angry.” “Is that why you pull pranks on my dad a lot?” “That and I like doing it in the first place. Makes me feel something.” Tsuna snorted, shaking his head. The two of them let the silence bleed gently between them. Both were watching the streets, much like Tsuna had the previous days. Reborn sometimes made small comments and Tsuna answered; they never spanned into full conversations but that was okay as it was comfortable to just sit there together. “I have to get back to work”, Reborn announced some time later. Tsuna looked over, mildly sad he had to go. “If you want I can come back and meet you here tomorrow?” “Yeah, sure”, Tsuna mumbled. He gathered his wrappers to put in the garbage and followed Reborn out. Reborn looked curiously behind him, waiting for Tsuna to catch up. “Why are you following me?” “Because I have nothing better to do. My dad’s house smells like smoke and only has porn to read.” Tsuna made an annoyed sound. Reborn snorted. He would expect nothing less from Iemitsu but he was tempted to take the magazines and see what would happen. He could easily get into Iemitsu’s apartment if he wanted to but that was too much work to scale the building at night. They both wounded through the streets, talking about what Tsuna’s life was like in Japan. Reborn kept asking questions, seeming genuinely curious about Tsuna’s life. Tsuna was taken aback by that, nervously smiling as he talked about Namimori and its subtle beauty along with bustling centre. Reborn listened intently, nodding along to everything and never looking bored. Tsuna felt like this was too good to be true as nobody had ever seemed so interested in him before. It was somewhat flattering but also terrifying. Reborn stopped in the doorway of a one story office building. He looked down at Tsuna, saying, “You’re dad’s watching us through his office window. Should we mess with him?” Tsuna smiled, nodding. “Might as well considering he begged me to come up only to work the entire time I’m here.” “Follow my lead.” Reborn said under his breath. He leaned forward so he was blocking Iemitsu’s view of Tsuna and muttered, “Don’t forget you can talk to me anytime if you need directions here as you have my number.” “I completely forgot about that, honestly. I’ll be talking to you later then, scheduling our meeting at the tea shop.” Reborn snickered, bringing his hand up to Tsuna’s face. He wiped away some crumbs at the edge of Tsuna’s mouth before giving him a peck on the cheek and turning to walk into the building. He gave a wave over his shoulder as Tsuna gave a surprised squeak. He flushed deep red at the display and even deeper red at the thought his dad was watching. He was not going to live this one down.
10130129	Smoking In The Rain fan	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "due South", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by look_turtles", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "0", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": "Ray Kowalski", "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }
10136492	Ill Never Let Go	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Potter, Other(s), Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by MeetMeInTheDark", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2006-10-05T00:00:00", "words": "1,487", "Additional Tags": "Slash, Explicit Language, Out of Character, Angst, Tragedy, Drama, Romance", "Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Disclaimer: Property of J. K. Rowling and company. I make no money from this. "Say you love me." "I love you", Tom Riddle said, pressing his forehead against the other boy's. "Say you want me." "I want you, you know that." "Say you need me." "I need you, more than anything." "Say you'll always be by my side." "I'll always be there." "Say you'll never let go." "I'll never let go..." !#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#! Tom Riddle, now Lord Voldemort, leaned on the balcony railing, gazing up at the stars as if they had all the answers. Life had gone downhill the second he had lost his lover, Julius Pitelli. That was the year that he'd gone officially Dark. He had blown up his orphanage, laughing as the horrified screams filled the air. It was all Dumbledore's fault, no matter how much the old man tried to deny it. It was one of his lackies that had killed Julius, this Tom knew without a doubt. Dumbledore had caused a Dark Lord to rise when he allowed his close-mindedness to effect his actions. The world suffered Tom's wrath because of Dumbledore's actions. Every bad thing that had happened in Tom's life was caused by Dumbledore. His imprisonment(As he thought of it) in that orphanage, the death of Julius, the death of his mother which he had recently found out about. His mother, Alana, was not interested in becoming a pawn of Dumbledore. She was killed because she would not listen to anything the man had to say, not in childbirth like everyone was told. Now Tom made sure the world Dumbledore tried so hard to control was thrown into chaos at every moment he could manage. He did not worry about Harry Potter, the 17-year-old was already persuaded to his side. He was also tired of being a pawn and a weapon, willingly joining Tom as a co-leader of sorts. The world would be theirs and they had good plans on how to improve it once Dumbledore was gone."The press conference will be early tomorrow, you should get some sleep", Harry suggested, standing in the doorway to his balcony. Tom looked at him over his shoulder."I will soon." Harry came to stand next to him, placing one hand on the railing."What's eatin' at you?""This is the 67th anniversary of my lover's death. It was one of Dumbledore's lackies that killed him", Tom answered. Harry placed a hand on his arm, brow furrowed in concern."You still love him?""Yes. What made his death unbearabely hard was the fact that he was killed in front of me. We were in the Astronomy Tower, looking at the stars and talking when the lacky came up behind us and pushed Julius out of the window. I caught his hand but just barely. The lacky stabbed our hands, making my grasp on Julius' hand to slip. I watched as he fell, helpless to do anything. The lacky apparated away, further convincing me that it was Dumbledore who ordered it. Only Headmasters can change the wards on the school. I ran as fast as I could to reach the ground. I saw him there, body broken and bleeding, and I held him to me. The was the first time I remember crying since I was 7. I haven't cried since that night when I lost him. When my world was completely destroyed." Harry was crying. For Tom's sake he told himself. "I'll murder him. Torture him for hours and then push him out the same window. I swear I will", Harry hissed, eyes narrowed. Tom smiled sadly and brushed away Harry's tears. "Leave Dumbledore to me. You can take McGonagall. Now, go back to Severus. I'm sure he's worried what's taking so long. We'll handle everything tomorrow." Harry nodded, gave him a watery smile, and walked back to his rooms. Tomorrow was a press conference that Minister Fudge was having. Many, many people would be there and even more listening on the WWN. Harry decided to make his colors known and convince the Wizarding World on all the ways they could improve. Tom would be in the background, making sure no one tried to attack Harry. It wasn't that he was appriciated but he thought it was better for the Wizarding World to hear from their savior instead of their enemy. Tomorrow would be an explosive day and Tom was looking forward to unsettling Dumbledore. With one last look at the stars, Tom headed for bed. !#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#! "...That is why it's better to join us", Harry concluded, taking a deep breath. He knew he had swayed several people but some still needed to be swayed. He looked back at Tom who stepped forward, ignoring the gasps."I wish to speak to Dumbledore. If he will not come forward then we will know what kind of Leader we are putting our lives on", he said, smirking when Dumbledore immediately apparated in front of him, glare set on his face."What did you need to discuss, Tom?", he asked pleasantly, fake smile plastered on his face."Aren't you going to offer me a Lemon Drop, old man?" Seeing that Dumbledore was uneffected, he continued. "I asked you to here to talk about an old lover of mine. Surely you remember Julius Pitelli. A lovely boy he was, so happy and nice. So very much in love with me. You couldn't handle that, could you, old man? The fact that I was happy messed with your plans of ruining my life to get back at my mother. You loved her, didn't you? From the pictures I've seen, she was a very beautiful woman. I don't really blame you. That's why you wanted to persuade her to working with you but she refused. So, of course, you had to kill her and make her son suffer. I bet you weren't counting on me becoming a Dark Lord, did you? I am, after all, just a poor orphan boy. I made something of myself while you sat back in your chair, twiddling your thumbs, and watching people die stupidly for you. How happy you must be that everyone thinks you can do no wrong. That you're not really planning on taking over the world once Harry and I kill each other. But we wont and that pisses you off, doesn't it? Your plans are failing and the world will be peaceful once you're out of it!" Tom felt better after getting all of that out. Dumbledore's face had gone very red."What would a little orphan boy know about love? Yes, I loved your mother but it was a normal love, not the perverted love you flaunted with Pitelli. Your mother was stupid to refuse me. She knew what would become of her but she didn't accept my advances anyway. Of course I had to get back at her half-blood brat. You deserved no more than what you got. You should be grateful that I let you live at all, that I didn't have Louis push you out the window along with Pitelli. Know why I didn't? You deserved to suffer the loss of your love like I did. Understand this, Riddle, you don't deserve to be loved!", Albus yelled furiously, effectively persuading everyone to Tom's side. Tom was smirking, unwilling to let the words effect him as his words had effected Dumbledore. People stared booing and yelling angerily."Oops, I guess you said too much, Dumbledore", Tom mocked, smirk growing wider. Dumbledore let out an inarticulate roar and launched himself at Tom. The younger man side-stepped him and shot his very favourite spell(Besides Crucio)"Avada Kedavra!" The light went out in Dumbledore's eyes and the crowd clapped and whistled and laughed. Harry grinned happily at Tom and was kissed senselessly by his own lover, Severus Snape. Tom smiled at the both of them, gazing out at the exuberant crowd. !#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#! "Nooooooooooooooooooo!" Tom yelled, his grasp still reaching for his rapidly desending lover. Julius looked up at him, eyes shining in love before he disappeared into the shadows of the dark, summer night. Tom ran down the many flights of stairs, ignoring the burn in his muscles. He spotted Julius laying on the ground, blood pooled underneath him. Tom pulled the dead boy to his chest, crying harder than he thought possible. "No, no, no, no! Please don't leave me. I need you. I love you so goddamn much, Jul. We were always supposed to be together. No, please, come back", he sobbed, shoulders shaking. After 20 minutes, he regained his composure somewhat and gently layed Julius back down, closing his lifeless amber eyes. He stood, face titled towards the sky as more tears fell. "I love you..." !#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#! "I'll never let go", Tom murmered. For just a second he felt Julius' blond hair fall across his cheek and smelled his unique forest scent in the gently blowing breeze.
10184405	Sincerity	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Matsuno Ichimatsu, Reader, Matsuno Karamatsu, Matsuno Osomatsu, Matsuno Choromatsu, Matsuno Todomatsu, Matsuno Jyushimatsu", "Fandom": "おそ松さん \| Osomatsu-san (Anime)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by libradusk", "chapters": "5/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "4,719", "Additional Tags": "Fluff, Reader-Insert, beginning of relationship, Crushes, lots of fluff and self indulgent headcanons ey, Gender-neutral Reader, I might also add Totoko bc I love her, horribly awkward NEETS, cringeworthy kara, as always, Totty gets his fucking comeuppance", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Matsuno Ichimatsu/Reader, Matsuno Karamatsu/Reader, Matsuno Osomatsu/Reader, Matsuno Choromatsu/Reader, Matsuno Todomatsu/Reader, Matsuno Jyushimatsu/Reader", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It was a bitterly cold January night. The frigid atmosphere bit at the tips of your digits as you pulled your scarf closer to your throat. Frost had begun to form delicate mosaics across the glass of the shopfronts you passed, making you glad you’d decided to change out of your pyjamas before your 2am outing on the streets of Tokyo. Aside from the occasional drunken shout in the distance, and the sound of two pairs of footsteps casually treading against the partially frozen pavement, the air hung sleepy and uncharacteristically silent in the busy capital.It was a still bliss you’d quickly come to enjoy during your late walks with Ichimatsu.The quietness was a welcome break from the assiduous nature of your everyday lives, his more-so than yours, though that was mostly the fault of his brothers. Having nobody occupy the walkway other than you and your dark-haired companion, and the occasional stray cat that meandered into your path, made the streets feel surprisingly safe and welcoming, even amongst the darkness.You’d lost count of the numerous occasions when the fourth Matsuno brother had invited you out on a night-time stroll, often edged with an excuse, such as that Karamatsu’s snoring had kept him up half the night anyway, or that he’d forgotten to stop by and feed a particular colony of cats that afternoon, (which you knew straight away was a lie, Ichimatsu NEVER forgot to feed his feline friends).Though, imagining him curled up to his house phone as he called you in the early hours never failed to make your heart swell more each time: him bashfully lowering his voice to an even lower octave than usual to avoid waking his parents, or worse, his nosy brothers, as he invited you out to be his sole companion on his night-time rendezvous.As well as the calming atmosphere, Ichimatsu’s surprising openness at 2am had also become something you’d particularly began to look forward to. His frustrations and fears always found their way past his lips in the early hours, as if the frigid night air coaxed his troubles out of him. If he was to tell you anything, it would most likely be after the clock had lapsed early into the next day.You’d practically sobbed in the middle of the street when he’d initially confessed, after several of your outings, that he didn’t feel anxious around you, like he did the other people he met. Your reaction was partially attributed to the pride of holding a position as elusive as being Ichimatsu’s friend, but mostly because you were just so proud of him. Having the confidence to speak his mind without completely shutting down because of the stress was a big achievement for him. You could only hope that he was as proud of himself as you were for him.Of course, when initially explaining this to you, he’d used a combination of much more choice words and self-depreciating language, but the sentiment remained the same nonetheless.You wondered if he blushed the first time he heard you pick up the other side of the phone, if his face was redder during the first call than it was when he eventually admitted how much he valued you as a friend. Or as brightly as the first time you asked if you could link your arm with his: the way you always walked with him now. He even seemed to revel in the contact, now his initial phase of becoming flustered by the affectionate gesture had passed. Some nights he was even the first to lightly graze his fingertips against your sleeve, a small but thoughtful signal for you to grip onto his forearm. His eyes would never manage to fully meet yours as he did so, but occasionally, you were sure you could see the slightest traces of a smirk at the edges of his lips.And as your shoulders brushed and the frozen air played in wisps against your face, you weren’t sure if your pulse was racing from the time you’d spent walking, or because of something else entirely. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You were pretty sure at this point, that the motives behind Karamatsu’s actions weren’t entirely innocent anymore.Between the accidental brushes from his hands, knees, elbows or whatever other body part of his happened to be closest to your own at the time, Karamatsu stuck out as the one in the group that was constantly positioned at your side. Whether it was during a group lunch date with you and the Matsuno brothers, or a simply a hangout at their home, which usually involved watching a terrible movie of some kind Osomatsu had gotten cheap at the video rental store – Karamatsu was always the one perched closest to you. Sometimes it was so subtle that you didn’t even notice it until whatever event was occurring had ended, and suddenly you felt the absence of his knuckles against your shin, or the gentle scrape of his jeans against your calf. There were times when you wondered if even he noticed his subconscious need for contact between the pair of you.That couldn’t be right though, could it? He was so painfully unsubtle with his ministrations… or was it just you thinking too much into it? The more you had thought about it, the more it bothered (and flustered) you. As well as his constant touches, several other possible signs had emerged in spades. It seemed the more time you spent with the flamboyant man, the gut feeling you’d been harbouring - that his feelings towards you ran deeper than purely platonic – only grew with each interaction you shared. Each time you had looked back on the memories, you’d mentally berated yourself for letting his excuses slip past you so easily each and every time.The first instance his actions had really struck you with such intensity, was weeks ago, when Karamatsu in all his glittery, leather clad glory, had invited himself to your apartment to share his newest musical creation with you. However, upon delving into his (otherwise seemingly empty) wallet to retrieve a segment of his newest love song/poem extravaganza, as he’d so enthusiastically named it. What had shocked you though, wasn’t the scrawled cheesy lyrics on the folded paper he’d whipped out of his wallet with such gusto, but the tattered photo-booth snapshot that had fluttered to your feet in its wakeIt was one of the photos you and the brothers had taken together during your trip to a theme park months beforehand. You’d all been forced to cram into one of the little booths in such an uncomfortable manner, that your smiles seemed more like grimaces. You were also pretty sure Osomatsu had stepped on Choromatsu’s toe just as the flash had gone off, judging by the latter’s reaction.Thinking about his face when he’d realised what had tumbled out of his wallet made you want to laugh, he’d looked like he been socked solid in the gut, and had grabbed for the fallen photo with such desperation he’d fallen over and burst his open lip in the process.You never did manage to hear that blasted song either. Though, that was probably for the best.A few weeks later, when you’d felt it safe to ask him why he’d taken to carrying the love-worn memento, he’d bashfully admitted that it was because he didn’t have any other pictures of you together, ‘With his beloved brothers included, of course!’ he’d added - a little too quickly.No cheesy love song could have rivalled the thinly veiled sincerity his words, even when spoken behind that ridiculous persona of his. Even at the time, when you were so much more oblivious, your stomach had still flipped giddily.The same way it did now as you glanced back on the fond memory.These more honest depths of Karamatsu’s personality had emerged tenfold as of late, though almost always when the two of you were alone, which itself seemed to be more of a regular occurrence than it used to. It did honestly appear, when you really thought about it, that Karamatsu had grown into much more of genuinely nice person, rather than the contrived “nice guy” act he exhibited, often for his own benefit.Perhaps most surprisingly to you of all though, was that the most vexing thing about the situation wasn’t the invasion of your personal bubble, it was the loneliness you felt without Karamatsu’s contact.Somewhere, amongst the months of mess, painful lines and busted lips, you’d fallen for him too. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “You know, you’re much nicer to me than Totoko has ever been.”His words had confused you at first, partially because they struck you as sincerer than the majority of crap he barked on the daily. You were indeed a hell of a lot more tolerable of him than most people were. But of course, that was only because you had more patience when it came to dealing with his antics. Why on earth he chose to single out your friend as the pair of you walked home from pachinko was a mystery, and really, mentioning Totoko’s name only seemed to make his confession seem so much more hollow, as if the true meaning was hidden beneath it.At least, it was at first, until you were alone at home, and you began to piece together the other, surprisingly subtle hints he’d dropped over the past months, until you’d formed a mental jigsaw that seemed to indicate he wanted you to be more than just his weekly pachinko partner.Now that, you weren’t quite sure what to think about.Of course, at the time you had shrugged off his comment with a laugh, and a half-hearted attempt to chastise him for indirectly badmouthing your friend. He’d responded with a snarky giggle of his own: one finger itching beneath his nose as he dragged you down yet another side street you’d never have thought to cut through when making your own way home. He’d been doing this a lot as of late, surprising you with various ‘shortcuts’ and alternative routes for the two of you to walk together. However, as time had passed, each of them seemed to be getting longer than the last, even despite the weather getting progressively cooler. When you’d finally called him out on his odder-than-usual behaviour – he’d become uncharacteristically bashful.That there, had probably been your first sign.His excuse (and he always had one for everything, of course) was that his brothers were less likely to find him and steal his winnings if you took the alternate path. You’d reminded him that it wasn’t often him that took home the winnings at all, and had earned yourself a soft elbow to the ribs as payback for your light-hearted quip.But even when you’d glossed over his excuses time after time, deeming them as simply a way to resolve his feelings of loneliness when his brothers weren’t around, or had temporarily disowned him for whatever reason - you knew that honestly despite his numerous faults and quirks, you enjoyed spending more time with the eldest of the Matsunos. As much as you’d tried to quash your feelings down by reminding yourself he was your best friend, and that his manners and general decorum were mediocre at best (and even then, you were being very generous towards him), there was maybe, just possibly the smallest spark between you that had been there from the very beginning, and had continued to grow despite your attempts to let it wilt and disappear. It was like a beer stain you couldn’t get out of your carpet.And when you thought about it, you were fairly adamant he did stain your carpet with his drink the last time he hung out at your home, the little shit.Then of course, there had been the time you both had a little too much to drink at Chibita’s stand when celebrating a big win of his at the parlour. Your memories of the event were far from clear – an unfortunate side effect of the liquor you’d consumed. It seemed Chibita only brought out the really good stuff for his paying customers. You made a mental note to ask him what the hell it was the next time you bumped into him.Despite the hazy sheen that clung to your memories like a syrup, you distinctly recalled the firm grasp of his fingers against your own as you’d stumbled home that night.He didn’t even seem to have drank that much at the time, not as much as he did when grouped with his siblings anyway. Through foggy memories, you thought you remembered him clutching at a glass of water while you were on your fifth or six drink. Or was it your eighth? Not that the details really mattered at this point. How on earth someone so openly shameless and transparent could confuse you so much was a true mystery. But, you couldn’t deny you were enjoying discovering more about him each time you met up, and these days, he spoke less about his brothers and more about himself and you. And you were pretty sure it wasn’t entirely just because he’d exhausted all the material he had on catching Choromatsu jacking off.Perhaps it was time to admit to yourself that you wanted to be more than just gambling partners with him too.And maybe, you would try holding his hand sober this time. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You had never set out to purposely look for his journal.All you had wanted to do was follow up on the offer you extended to clean out the sextuplets chaotic wardrobe space, for poor Matsuyo’s sake if nothing else - the book just happened to fall into your lap in the process. Quite literally in fact, along with numerous Hashimoto Nyaa trinkets and a few rather risqué magazines he had clearly forgotten to dispose of before you had arrived to clean - these you wasted no time in hastily shoving back into the depths of his closet.Admittedly, you had almost tossed the journal back along with them, mistaking it for yet another piece of overpriced memorabilia. Its appearance certainly didn’t help your confusion, with its glittery green cover sporting the idol’s beaming face across the surface. It was only due to it landing in such a way that it’s finger-worn pages splayed out in front of you that you stopped yourself. The smudged ink scrawled across the pages beckoned you temptingly to read it, despite what your conscience told you.As you edged towards the exposed notebook, the remnants of its broken, paw shaped lock crunched under your knee, and your blood froze in your veins at the sound. Drat, you would definitely have to approach him about the issue now. Curse these cheap consumer items Hashimoto’s brand seemed to shit out on the regular.At this point, you figured that with all the harm you’d done by damaging what was clearly a very personal belonging of Choromatsu’s, you were clearly doomed to receive some variant of divine karma anyway. Might as well read what was hidden in the book and get dragged down even deeper right? The house was empty, aside from Matsuyo - who was currently occupied with scrubbing downstairs and probably would be for a while, considering the amount of mess six identical pairs of feet could make in a given week. When you held your breath, you were positive you could hear her cursing to herself through the silence.Honestly, you were not expecting anything more shocking than finally exposing some embarrassing kink Choromatsu was fond of, or something else equally uninspiring. He often came to you to rant about his struggles: be it finding a job, or dealing with his idiot brothers’ schemes and antics - you weren’t sure if there was anything else he had dealt with that he hadn’t already overshared with you numerous times at this point.As it turned out though, you were wrong this time.Despite most of the early pages consisting of what you had expected Choro to write about: him gushing over the latest Nyaa-chan show he had attended, or numerous scribbled speeches you assumed were for future job interviews - as well as the most cringeworthy introductory paragraph to the contents of a diary you had ever read, (seriously Choromatsu? Who else was meant to read this aside from you?...) the deeper you skimmed into the biro-splattered notes, the more your eyes widened at what you discovered.Choromatsu’s later writing had become a lot more… self-depreciating than you had expected, reading a few of the passages he had clearly written after being rejected by a company, or when he appeared to have a general bad day filled your gut with a toxic blend of empathy and guilt at what you were doing.Perhaps most shocking of all though, was a short entry that appeared to have been hastily scribbled down when his brothers weren’t around. Surrounded by numerous crossed out attempts and smudgy fingerprints that marked the aftermath of a leaking pen, it stuck out like an inky cryptid amongst the nest of the pen strokes that framed it. “You make my face red and my heart beat so fast I feel like fainting.” It was horribly cliché and honestly something more typical of what Karamatsu would say, but to your surprise, your heart still quivered at the sight of it, and more so at the fact that it had been written by Choromatsu himself.It took a moment for you to fully register the words that glared back at you from the confines of the paper, and when they did, you brain immediately worked itself to the urge of a migraine trying to figure out who the flowery sentence was aimed towards.Nyaa Hashimoto? No, this entry seemed sincerer than the fan-boyish ramblings you had scorned at earlier.Totoko? Now that was a possibility, but it struck you that he had been spending much less time fawning over her recently, and seemingly, occupying his multitude of free time with you, under the excuse of avoiding time spent around his brothers… Oh. With your heart hammering against your ribs, you checked the date of the entry.It matched the date Choromatsu had spent the night around at your place in preparation for the job interview he had the next morning, and you mentally kicked yourself in embarrassment for remembering the date so clearly. ‘Time spent away from the snoring, farting, insomnia inducing mess of his siblings’, he had spat when he had initially begged you to let him sleep on your floor. Had he written this at your home? About you none the less!? When you placed a dust covered hand against your cheek in exasperation at the thought, the surface was clammy and hot, as if you had sprinted a mile, rather than spent the last ten minutes browsing a diary you were never meant to find.You certainly had a lot to discus with Choromatsu in private when he returned to the Matsuno household that evening. He was going to receive more from you than just an apology and a sullied journal, even with your pulse pounding in your ears - you promised the both of you that much. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- In the beginning, he’d used the pastries as an excuse.To be precise, Todomatsu had graced you with the first selection of half-stale croissants and cinnamon twists in what you had assumed to be a gesture of thanks: a sticky, cutesy cliché that befitted the youngest Matsuno brother’s nature, but nevertheless, one you believed to be no more than a simple, but sweet gift between friends after you’d offered to walk him home one winter evening.A good few weeks had passed since, and thinking back to the situation that had unfolded still made a giggle bubble within your throat at the memory:The sun had already set long before Todomatsu had finished his shift in the quaint little coffee shop that afternoon, and being the thoughtful friend you were (as well as the fact you happened to be shopping in town at the time, and the Matsuno household fell upon a similar route through the city to your own residence.), you had offered to walk him home. He’d all but screamed into the mouthpiece of his cell when you’d haphazardly called with the suggestion – you recalled having to stifle your laughter as he’d stuttered and backtracked and assured you that having to walk alone in the dark was no big deal, but that he’d simply love the company of a friend after dealing with the endless demands of his co-workers and customers all day long. You didn’t buy the excuse, even at the time – knowing damn well how deep his phobia of the darkness was. The thinly masked shiver in his voice had exposed that the thought had clearly crossed his mind, and you couldn’t resist poking fun at him a little as you had walked the shadow-streaked pavement together. The way he pouted at your antics with cheeks as flushed as his pink jumper had indeed made your heart flutter a little after all, so some payback had certainly been in order on your behalf. But when you’d gone to casually bid him goodnight and he had smiled delicately and placed the little wrapped parcel of treats into your hands without warning, it had been your turn to stutter over your words.“just a little thank you present for always being such a good friend to me~”It had been the first time in a long while you’d recounted him sound so genuine. At the time you’d tried to think nothing much of it, and told yourself that the gifted pastries were just a surplus that the coffee shop had failed to sell throughout the day – yet the thought of him actively remembering to bag up the treats for you at the end of a no doubt busy shift was admittedly a sweet one, especially considering the man had somewhat of a reputation for being selfish at the best of times (particularly in the eyes of his brothers, who never failed to remind you of this) All of this, along with the surprise of being rewarded for what you saw to be such a menial favour on your behalf, had caused you to feel the slightest bit flustered each time he would hand the bag of baked goods over with a giggle and a smile.But it was that coquettish little wink he’d throw in your direction before hurriedly darting through his front door and out of the cold that had made your heartbeat race more than eating any of the sugary desserts did.Not long after the first time you’d chaperoned him home (and the next few times after that), he had begun to text you mid-shift, asking you if you would be joining him for your “usual stroll home together”, as he’d taken to calling it.‘just wanting to make sure so I don’t have to eat all these yummy pastries by myself ❤’ he’d text, knowing damn well that you would be there waiting outside when he finished, lest he give you hell for bailing on him, and you could almost hear the sickly-sweet lilt of his voice dribble out of the screen every time you read the heart-laden messages. Despite the overtly cute persona his texts oozed, you could never deny you enjoyed receiving the little reminders from him, or even that you saw walking a little further than usual past your home to see him safely enter his own front door as a bother at all really. Then there was the incident where the two of you had gotten caught in the snow on the way home. Perhaps jokingly, (or at least, that’s how you chose to interpret it at the time) he’d batted his eyelashes at you in a particularly pathetic, but undeniably endearing way and slipped a hand into your jacket pocket, whining that he was cold and would no doubt develop frostbite if you didn’t protect him. In your mind, you’d thought to sarcastically quip about the free hand holding his mobile that seemed to be surviving just fine against the light flurry of snow, yet apparently without thinking, you had already slipped your own hand inside your pocket to join his own before the action could properly process.It was the abrupt change that washed over him that made you realise exactly what you’d just done, you had barely had the time to properly react yourself before the dramatic pout he had been teasing you with beforehand transformed into a shocked, yet utterly flustered look of disbelief that you could only assume your own face subsequently mirrored. After the slightly awkward pause that followed, it had been you who had cracked into a smile first and attempted to find the words that had died between you,“what’s that face for Totty? I’m just protecting you like you asked~.”As nice as it had been to give the man a taste of his own medicine, the memory still made your toes curl a little in embarrassment, the words having stuck to your throat like honey on a knife at the time. Yet even after that - he still didn’t move his hand until it had been time for him to walk through his door, this time with a face that glowed as rosy as his signature favourite colour, and the slightest hint of a dreamy smile pulling at his lips.Perhaps this was the point where you realised you clearly didn’t want to spend your time together as just friends anymore, or at the very least, stopped trying to deceive your own feelings. Shortly following what you’d taken to internally referring to as“the indirect hand-holding incident”, Todomatsu’s texting had evolved beyond the simple reminders or gossip he’d always shared with you before. You eventually awoke one night to the flash of your phone’s screen, surprised (and at first, a little irritated at being disturbed just as you’d started to properly drift off, to see Todomatsu’s name flash on the screen at such late an hour – knowing that he shared a room with his five brothers, who would no doubt not appreciate being kept awake by him texting at such an ungodly hour. ‘I really did mean what I said a few weeks ago about you being such a good friend to me’ The pain au chocolat in your stomach had felt like it’d spun a complete 180 as your eyes skimmed the glowing screen, 'its nice to be seen as a friend and not just a younger brother, you know?’ You had paused, breathless with surprise and hands that quickly became clammy around the phone as the three little grey dots under his message had continued to dance torturously upon the screen, you had attempted to decode his words until he beat you out with a response. 'heh heh, sorry for being so weird tonight! Hope my little sleep deprived self hasn’t weirded you out too much ❤ nighty night~’ “Wait!” you’d surprised yourself, and yelled at the screen before you could stop and process what you were doing, cringing at the ridiculous desperation in your own actions as you had hurriedly tapped out a response before he fell asleep, 'Do you maybe want to call at mine for a hot drink on the way home tomorrow? That is if you’re not sick of coffee at this point’ You had shakily wiped a hand over your heated face, pulse drumming in your ears as you’d tried to convince yourself to try and settle down and sleep again, only for your screen to flash once more, ‘Okay~ Looking forward to it~’ You’d gone to sleep with a bashful smile on your face that night, along with having taken the biggest sigh of relief you ever recounted leaving your lungs. What you awoke to the next morning made the blood rush to your face as soon as your sleep-bleary vision had finally focused on the bright display properly, where the final message he’d sent after you’d fallen asleep stared you in the face. ‘I could never get sick of anything if it involves you. ❤’
10187951	Lahar	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Fareeha \"Pharah\" Amari, Angela \"Mercy\" Ziegler", "Fandom": "Overwatch (Video Game)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by LogosMinusPity", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "3,044", "Additional Tags": "Smut, wherein angela ziegler is the world's biggest tease, formal wear setting, aka fareeha in her military formal wear, and angela having the time of her life wearing a telling dress, and the effect that has on her gf", "Relationship": "Fareeha \"Pharah\" Amari/Angela \"Mercy\" Ziegler", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Angela’s been a tease all night.A bloody tease, Fareeha thinks to herself. She tries to think it sourly, but it’s hard to hold onto even that for longer than a passing second as soon as her gaze flits right back to the person in question. And how it’s hard to keep her gaze anywhere but there.Angela’s given a new definition to the old phrase ‘dressed to kill’, or at least Fareeha is certain of it.And boy but was Fareeha the least prepared of everyone for it.Formal balls have never been her ‘thing’. She went to them as practically commanded during her active tenure in the army, begrudgingly putting on the stiff and impractical uniforms and then escaping the balls as soon as was socially acceptable to do so without fear of reprisal from a C.O. Maybe the difference is that she’d never had a date for one either.Maybe. Or maybe the difference is just Angela Ziegler in general. Hard to say. Hard to do anything when the way that backless, braless, flimsy bit of material that only just covers…Fareeha forcibly jerks her eyes back up and away and sucks in a quiet breath between her teeth.Powers help her.She hadn’t even wanted to go this damned ball in the first place, hadn’t wanted to dress up in the high-collared and medal-decorated jacket and field all the usual polite questions about being an Amari and being part of Overwatch now. Why couldn’t she just donate money to charity from the happy anonymity of her bank account and computer?Of course, any thoughts of her own irritation had gone right out the window as soon as Angela had taken her long coat off at here at the charity event itself, and revealed the exact extent--or lack thereof—of her dress. The swooping halter, the lack of any back, the lack of any practical side coverage...Again, Fareeha’s eyes unintentionally drop for a moment as Angela is continuing to speak to whoever it is she’s speaking to. Something something hospitals and research and Fareeha’s brain has stopped trying to pay attention altogether now.At least until suddenly the conversation stops, and Fareeha jerks her gaze up this time to find Angela looking right back up at her.Shit.Sweat prickles at the back of her neck, but Angela’s gaze reveals nothing more than usual. Instead, Angela leans up to whisper something. Her red lips are close enough to almost just tickle against her ear as she speaks in a low voice meant for Fareeha and Fareeha alone.“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”That makes the blood go rushing right to Fareeha’s face...and right to her groin. She swallows heavily and snaps her back ramrod straight in response, and it does nothing for how the inseam on her pants presses discomfitingly into just where all that heat has settled.“Can we go home yet?” She does not mean to sound quite that plaintive, but dammit, they’ve already been here for the normal amount of time Fareeha would tolerate on her own and then some. And...well...it’s not entirely her fault if Angela chose to wear a dress like this, and press up against her like just like this, and...“Be a dear and go get another drink for me, will you?” Angela smiles up at her, eyes twinkling with the very clear knowledge of just what sort of effect she’s having, and Fareeha heaves a sigh, recognizing when she’s already lost a battle.She takes the stem of the empty champagne flute and makes her sorry way to the bar, grateful that her dark complexion can hide her still burning face. She has a feeling this is going to be the longest night of her life at this rate, and when she gets to the bar and the tuxedo dressed bartender, she decides to wisen up and order two champagnes. She’s going to need one for herself.Fareeha is joined a moment later by a familiar cheery face at her side.“Hey there, captain!”Lena’s looking handsome as ever in a well-tailored tux of her own, her accelerator strapped nonchalantly below her red bowtie. Fareeha turns to glance across the crowd and finds Emily in a slim-fitting red dress; probably twice the amount of fabric as Angela’s dress. She sighs, and it’s as though Lena can practically read her mind.“Wow! The doc’s dressed with looks to kill tonight, isn’t she?”Just when Fareeha had been doing such a good job behaving herself, her eyes slide right back to where Angela is standing across the room, and the familiar heat coils and uncoils insistently in her gut.“Mmm.” She makes a noise that sounds enough like agreement, but Lena still turns and raises both eyebrows at her, grinning enough to already give Fareeha a headache.“What a photogenic pair you two make for the pictures, huh? Military officer with her lovely, world-class researcher date on her arm.”“Easy for you to say,” Fareeha grumbles, and it’s the most she’s allowed herself to show of any of her ‘frustration’.Lena laughs loudly at that, grin only growing. She hits Fareeha lightly on the shoulder after a moment.“Don’t glare now, Amari. Enjoy the eye candy. You’re the one who gets to go home with her at the end of the night. Besides, the doc doesn’t dress like that for just anyone. Don’t look the gift horse in the mouth. ‘Course, can get kind of hard when the gift horse is looking at you...”Lena points with her chin, and Fareeha looks up in time to see Angela favoring her across the room with a look that can only be describe in polite company as ‘bedroom appropriate’. Any hope she’s had of distracting herself while talking with Lena evaporates and the liquid heat goes helplessly rushing through her with an embarrassing intensity.Lena gives her a gently understanding pat this time, even if she is still wearing a positively shit-eating grin. Fareeha makes a note to remember that.“Oi, good luck, captain. Remember to enjoy your night!” Then she winks one last time and heads back toward her own girlfriend, fresh drinks in hand.The bartender returns a moment later with two bubbling flutes of freshly poured champagne. Fareeha takes them and mumbles a prayer of fortitude for herself under her breath. Angela accepts the glass from her with a gracious nod of her head, and her fingers linger over Fareeha’s far too long for it be anything other than deliberate.Long night indeed.The rest of the time passes by in a blur. Fareeha feels more like the proverbial arm candy, silently standing by her girlfriend and fetching drinks when asked, in little mood to make small talk or polite conversation. No, her attention is very firmly drawn to her body’s own very clear and only growing response.It makes her itch with need and desire alike, though she is more than disciplined enough to force back the urge to fidget. Still, her own libido—now goaded awake like this—is practically impossible to ignore.She becomes so pointedly focused on trying to not focus on it that she has to do a double take when Angela says something to her that isn’t asking her to grab a drink or similar.“What?” She blinks hurriedly, and Angela smiles in a way that seems far too knowing when she repeats herself.“I said, ready to go?”“Yes!” Her voice comes out a bit strangled with the disbelief that Angela is finally taking mercy on her, and the heat resurges beneath her skin, burning and pointed.Angela’s coat doesn’t take any longer than normal to pick up from coat check, but it feels to Fareeha like she's waiting for an eternity, Angela’s arm linked in hers, and she begins tapping one booted foot before she even realizes it. At least until Angela leans against her for a moment—good God but it looks like she could practically pop out of that dress with the wrong careless motion—and then Fareeha has to clear her throat and try not to act as impatient as what she is while her date chuckles next to her.The automated rental car is thankfully much more expedient than the coat check, and is already waiting for them as soon as they step outside the building.Chivalry is hardly dead, and Fareeha has the common decency to open the door and ensure Angela slides into their ride first before Fareeha follows. As soon as the car door closes shut behind her, though, all bets are apparently off.Angela is on her before she can think about what her next move is, somehow impossibly straddling one leg, never mind that tight fitting dress, and for once Fareeha’s mind is anywhere but on the stubborn principle of wearing seatbelts.The automated navigation and driving system asks one more time for verification of the destination, and Fareeha’s voice sounds harsh and ragged even to her own ears when she pulls back from Angela long enough to bark out the name of the hotel. Then the car is lurching into motion and Angela’s lips are covering hers again.She opens her mouth to groan, and Angela’s tongue slides easily against hers. Her fingers are already at Fareeha’s collar, fumbling at the first of many buttons that keep the polished and stiff uniform put together.Good luck with that.For once, it’s Angela who’s at the disadvantage in that regard, and Fareeha has no such problems with Angela’s own choice in outfit, particularly when her peacoat has been discarded to the side.Her hands easily find and cup Angela’s breasts, and she feels the nipples harden and strain as she runs her thumbs over the scant strip of fabric that separates skin from skin. Easy enough to shift her hands slightly and slide under the chiffon and silk entirely, something she’s been silently aching to do the entire night—and doesn’t Angela seem to know it. Of course there’s nothing remotely resembling a bra; that much had been clear from the get go. Yet Fareeha still feels the grin twist her own lips upward when Angela makes a noise against her at Fareeha’s knowing touch.A thought abruptly occurs to her, and she wonders as she continues to roll one nipple between her fingers if Angela bothered wearing underwear either. Curious, Fareeha starts to slide her hands lower, running them down Angela’s exposed back before settling on her hips a second time.Suddenly they’ve stopped moving, and then Angela is calmly pushing away from Fareeha and reaching for the car door as the navigation system politely informs them that they have parked at the hotel garage.Fareeha stares dumbly for too long as Angela stands to her full height on the concrete, and calmly asks Fareeha if she’s coming and oh could she grab Angela’s coat from the seat. Of course Fareeha ultimately does both, feeling for a long moment utterly helpless as she trails after Angela toward the elevator.Only by the time they actually step into the lift and punch in their floor (seventeen bloody levels to go, dammit), does Fareeha manage to get her brain thinking just enough over the roaring magma of her own blood.She glances up at the polished stainless steel door of the elevator, and sees the blur of red messily smeared across her lips from Angela’s lipstick. She glances sideways. Of course Angela has somehow already tended to herself and not a single hair is out of place. Typical.Twice tonight Angela’s had the total upper hand in everything, and Fareeha doesn’t intend to be so easily played a third time. They reach the door to their room, and the lock clicks open from a quick swipe of her security card.Fareeha doesn’t even bother waiting for the door to fully open. She pivots, tossing Angela’s coat into their room before picking Angela up in her arms and dropping her on the bed as the door closes behind them.“Enough.”She’s not even sure if she’s talking to Angela or to herself, but she’s hardly waiting for a reply. She reaches around to cup the back of Angela’s head, to draw her fingers through the soft hair like usual, and is immediately thwarted.“Fucking...hairpins…” Fareeha complains, quickly giving up on the venture. Between the ungodly amount of pins and hairspray, nothing but a solid hour spent in front of a mirror and in a shower are going to undo Angela’s hair.Angela chuckles at the rare bout of cursing from Fareeha, her voice perfectly coy and perfectly knowing. “My, but someone’s rather impatient.”Fuck patience, too. Fareeha’s long since spent her coin there for the night. She lets loose a sound of vexation, pressing Angela back into the mattress and kissing along the curve of one ear. Angela gives an appreciable shudder beneath her.“This is hardly fair,” murmurs Angela, tugging at Fareeha’s clothes.Fareeha bothers straightening up only long enough to toss off her thick military coat—the thing is uncomfortable anyway—but refuses to give any more than that.“Fair?” Her voice comes out in a low growl as she lowers herself back down to Angela, gently but very firmly pinning both pale wrists back down to the bed sheets. “Remind me again how fair this entire night has been to me.”She lets Angela’s wrists go in favor putting her own hands to better use, running down her ribs, up under the chiffon. Angela makes a noise and pushes up into her, and Fareeha busies her mouth along Angela’s jaw, down her neck, along her collar.She pushes her knee between Angela’s legs, making the hem of the dress ride up further and further still, her hands chasing the line of fabric until it’s almost completely balled up..Knew it. There’s always a special sort of victory in being right.“And someone’s had an entirely different set of plans for the night, if I’m not mistaken.”She enjoys the way Angela sucks in a gasp of breath and arches into her, hips jerking and no underwear to keep Fareeha from pressing her fingers against Angela’s slick and heated sex. It’s victory too when Angela’s fingers immediately dig into Fareeha’s back, silently urging for more.More for Fareeha requires one particular barrier getting out of the way. She starts tugging the dress toward Angela’s head, making her intent fairly clear without having to use words.“How much does this slip of material even cost?” she grumbles, knowing before Angela even states the outrageous number that she didn’t even want to really know.All she wants is for the inexcusably frustrating excuse of a dress to finally and fully be out of her way. So she ignores the cash amount that’s casually stated, pushing the damned thing aside as Angela pulls it fully off. Now what little the dress covered before is there for Fareeha and Fareeha’s eyes only, and she drinks in the sight, swallowing heavily.This time when she dips back down to close the distance between them, it’s not quite as frantic, not quite so clumsy as it might have been. Fareeha takes time enough to be deliberate when she kisses a trail from Angela’s neck down her sternum, when she spends just the right amount of time she wants on each breast. And when she finally drags her lips over the jut of hip bone, Angela is squirming even more than how much Fareeha wanted to while trapped in that damn ballroom.“Fareeha…” Angela’s voice comes breathy with want, and now it’s Fareeha’s turn to raise her eyebrows back.She could tease if she wanted, give Angela a taste of her own medicine back, but she doesn’t want to. She’s wanted one thing for the past few hours, and she’s hardly about to put it off any longer.Angela jerks and moans at the first touch of Fareeha against her clit. Fareeha wastes no time, falling into the pattern she knows best. A moment later, her fingers join, finding just the right motions. She can feel Angela grow tighter against her, feel the hand that Angela now has in her hair dig into her scalp, hear the fevered encouragements that all tell her, closer, closer...closer still.Then with a choked cry every muscle in Angela seems to constrict with hot excitement around Fareeha, and then Angela is falling back into the mattress, her hand now slack in Fareeha’s hair, the muscles in her thighs trembling as Fareeha withdraws her own hand, presses one last kiss to sensitive bundle of nerves there.Fareeha takes her time pressing small, fluttering kisses down the length of Angela’s legs, watching through her eyebrows at how her girlfriend has one arm strew roughly over her face as she tries to slow her rapid breathing.Angela’s voice emerges after a minute, still short of breath.“If you come back up here with even a shred of clothing still on you, I’m going to be cross.”Part of Fareeha wants to do it anyway, especially now that she’s certain that everything about tonight was fairly well calculated by Angela, but her own still insistent need throbs between her legs. So she makes quick work of stripping off her shirt and pants and all the other basic undergarments that were apparently not required if you wore dresses like Angela. Finally, she slides back up to her girlfriend, pausing to scowl at said offending dress, which wasn’t tossed fully from the bed in their earlier haste.Fareeha offers a glare at the material before throwing it over her shoulder and onto the floor.“You’re ridiculous. That much money for this thing?”Angela pauses long enough to fix Fareeha with pleased smirk of her own. “Considering everything I got out of tonight? I’ll call that worth the price.”The she covers Fareeha’s lips with her own, silencing whatever protests Fareeha might try to think of next.The last wry thought to pass through Fareeha’s mind before her attention is very firmly redirected elsewhere is that maybe, just maybe, formal events aren’t so bad after all.
10192655	Barfight	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Max Guevara \| X5-452, Alec McDowell \| X5-494", "Fandom": "Dark Angel", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by bornforwar_archivist", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2006-12-31T00:00:00", "words": "1,337", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Max Guevara \| X5-452/Alec McDowell \| X5-494", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Born for War", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Max watched as Alec won yet another game of pool. He grinned triumphantly at his opponent and made a witty comment. Max sighed. Recently she'd noticed that she liked watching Alec. It was always entertaining to see him thrash people at pool or table football, it was even funnier if he lost. She suspected he let them win, it was always people he liked who won. She liked seeing him concentrate and she liked knowing something about him nobody else knew.Damn it, she liked looking at him. After all, no harm in looking, right? "Max Guevirra." A confident and cocky voice said above her. She looked up to see Chad, one of her ex-boyfriends. He smiled won at her, he had dark black hair and winning looks. He was yet another "Post-Heat Problem", complaining Max had been too cold to him and led him on."Hello Chad." Max swallowed before saying. He smiled warmly at her and gestured to the seat next to her."May I sit down?""Yeah - uh sure." Max scooted along a little. She hated these types of confrontations. She always felt very guilty, they were probably right. She did lead them on in the 'Heat' of the moment and then she was cold, not letting them know anything about her."You know Max, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. I miss you." Chad began. "And - I want to get to know you again. Because I was wrong." Chad exhaled nervously, Max looked at him in surprise."Um . . ." She began."No! Hear me out Max. I wanna be with you. I want to get to know you, I was wrong to try and change you and-""And now you're really sorry and you wanna get in Max's pants?" Alec's voice intruded. He walked up to the table and sat down on a chair opposite, taking a deep drink from his tankard. He smiled lazily at Chad, looking for all the world like a lion who knew exactly what it could do with it's strength."And you would be?" Chad asked, turning in his seat to smile antagonisingly at Alec. Max frowned, why had Alec come in like that? She hoped Alec didn't say anything stupid, Chad had a quick temper. Max didn't want to see him get hurt.Chad that was."My name's Alec, yours?" Alec stretched out a hand, perfectly polite. He was grinning a little, the grin Max had learned to identify as the one he wore when he sensed danger."Chad." Chad did not shake Alec's hand. Alec smiled coolly and retracted his hand. He turned to Max and raised an eyebrow."Where'd you pick him up from?"Before Max or Chad could answer someone new came in. "Max- Alec isn't it?" Rafer asked, he smiled and sat down with them, oblivious of the tension. He smiled at Chad."Max, would you explain?" Chad asked, turning to her. Max wished he'd just let her stare at the pitcher like she'd been doing."What's your problem?" Alec asked, he hadn't moved, Max could practically taste the hostility coming from him. "Who are you anyway? Boyfriend, hopefull?" Chad asked, Rafer looked between the two, very confused. Alec sat straighter."I'm a concerned enemy." He said, eyes glittering."Okay - I've obviously walked in to something here." Rafer said, making to leave."That you have pretty boy." Chad growled."Excuse me?" Rafer turned, his tone filled with deadly menace. Max started edging away from the table."I think you heard me, pretty boy." Chad repeated, enjoying the effect it had on Rafer."All right." Alec stood up, intending to lift Chad outta Crash. "Had enough of you Green Face." Chad leapt to his feet."You touch me sonny you get your ass kicked." He said. Alec stared at him for a minute then he burst out laughing."Did I miss something?" Logan asked, approaching the table. Rafer gestured angrily at Chad."That asshole is hittin' on Max." He said. Logan turned a death glare on Chad. Alec was reduced to sitting down again, cracking up with laughter."Guys, come one, let's be reasonable about this." Max said, holding her hands up."Shut up bitch." Chad snapped at her, he was furious at Alec's reaction. It happened very quickly. Alec moved so fast he was only a blur. Chad was on the floor and Alec holding his fist poised above Chad's face."Don't talk to her like that again." Alec snarled."Who do you think you are!?" Logan demanded, pushing Alec's shoulder. Max stared in surprise. Alec landed on the ground beside Chad and stared up at Logan. Logan jumped on him."Pretty boy, eh?" Rafer asked, he leapt at Chad, battering his jaw with his fist. Max yelped and scrambled away from the fray. "Logan! Oomph! What! Oow! Are you doing!?" Alec pushed Logan off him and tried to escape. Logan grabbed the back of his shirt, half choking him. Alec fell backwards and flung his arms up to protect his face from Logan's pummeling fists. Suddenly a stray kick from Chad made him yell out. Logan got a good hit to his jaw and another to his gut."Ow! Logan! I can't fight you!" Alec used his far superior strength to kick his legs into the air and use that momentum to flip to his feet."Max'd kill me." He finished. Suddenly Rafer threw Chad into him and both men went down. Alec grinned as he saw who had hit him."You on the other hand . . . " "You slept with Max?" Logan asked Rafer. Rafer looked worried. "Look man, maybe you had a little too much to drin-k!" Rafer's head snapped backwards as Logan punched him. There was quite a crowd gathering round. OC came up to Max's shoulder and started laughing."Your boy Alec has got all the right moves girl." She said. Max turned to her, very distressed."How can you make a joke out of this!" She cried.Chad grabbed a pitcher full of beer and swung it at Alec's face. It shattered and the crowd oohed. Alec shook his head, a little dazed."Max this is getting ugly." OC began. Chad leapt for Logan's throat. "I can't help! I might touch Logan!" Max wailed. Alec glared at the three men exchanging punches."This is getting ridiculous." He growled, wiping blood from his face. He marched up to them and pulled Rafer out by the scruff of the neck. One quick punch and Rafer was flat out on the ground. With super speed Alec tripped Logan up and caught Chad before Chad could do any serious damage to the fallen man. He put Chad in the sleepers hold, forcing his head down until he felt the body go limp. He let Chad drop to the floor and wiped the blood from his face again. "Is he okay?" A girl asked worriedly to Max. "He's so cute!" Max rolled her eyes and stalked up to Alec."Alec- how dare-""Alec!" the bar tender slapped him on the back. "Well done my boy! Couldn't have broke it up better myself." He said. Alec grinned at him."Let's get you cleaned up." Max said resentfully. "Do you have a first aid kit?" She asked the bar tender. He nodded and led the two of them over to the bar. "Why didn't you fight Logan?" Max asked as she used a pair of tweezers to pull out the glass shards from Alec's face. Alec winced."Ow, Max that hurts.""Answer the question." Max moved to get into a better position, she ended up half sitting on his knees."I didn't want to hurt him - ow! You'd have hated me." Alec moved his hand unsure where to put them, eventually they came to rest round Max's waist. she shifted to get into a better position."Thank you." She said after a minute. Alec grinned a little."Least I'm getting something out of it.""I'll pretend I didn't hear that." The End
10143341	Stiena	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Bellamy Blake, John Murphy (The 100), Emori (The 100)", "Fandom": "The 100 (TV)", "Language": "Русский", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by EileenHart", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "5,165", "Additional Tags": "Het and Slash", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Завтра будет завтра", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Работа занимала все время. В перерывах между помощью инженерам по-прежнему было нужно совершать патрулирование территории, а также никто не отменял дежурства по периметру и тренировки. Беллами просто некогда было задумываться о посторонних вещах. Даже поздно вечером, упав в койку, он прокручивал в голове прошедший день, ставил себе задачи на завтра, пытался решить нерешенное с утра, и где-то в середине этого процесса проваливался в сон — усталость брала свое. Однако иногда сон и после этого не шел, не засыпалось именно потому, что мыслей было слишком много. И тогда рано или поздно непременно вспоминалось, что прошло уже три дня, четыре, неделя — а от ушедших к острову до сих пор ничего не слышно. Рации так далеко не принимали, и Рейвен условилась с Монти, что первым делом разберется с системой связи в центре управления, чтобы сообщить в Аркадию хоть азбукой Морзе, что все в порядке. Всегда оставалась опасность, что связь не будет работать, или там вообще нет нужной системы, или она повреждена, и Рейвен не справится с починкой, или... вариантов было много, включая тот, что отряд разведчиков мог и не добраться до острова вообще. И вот об этом Беллами думать не хотел. Усилием воли переключался на другое — не намного проще, но хоть не такое пессимистичное: рано или поздно разведчики вернутся, оставив Рейвен с небольшой командой разбираться с центром, если понадобится. И Мерфи с Эмори вернутся. Никуда не денутся, Мерфи не дурак, и понимает, что если где-то и можно спастись в случае неудачи с островом, то только в Аркадии. Беллами не то чтобы боялся этой встречи, бояться такой ерунды он давно разучился, но немного... маялся неопределенностью. Ему самому было совестно, что на фоне надвигающегося апокалипсиса он, как малолетняя девица, переживает об «отношениях». Но ничего не мог с собой поделать. Произошедшее в ту ночь было слишком необычно, слишком внезапно и слишком хорошо — для него. После всего, что свалилось ему на голову, после потери Кларк, Джины, снова Кларк, потом — Линкольна и Октавии, ему стало казаться, что он приносит несчастье всем, кто оказывается с ним рядом, и что ему лучше никогда и не влезать в «отношения» никаким образом. Однако тогда в пещере ему что-то почудилось. Настолько хорошее, что не было сил отвернуться и сказать «нет, ничего не было и не надо». Но он не знал, осталось ли у Мерфи с Эмори хоть отдаленно похожее ощущение, или для них это был просто случайный эпизод без последствий. Сразу после их ночевки в пещере выяснять отношения было попросту некогда. В Аркадию они вернулись тогда быстро, буквально за день, и им не пришлось ночевать у дерева-канделябра. Рацию свою Беллами и правда нашел у корней, тут же связался с Кейном, сообщил, что они возвращаются, и узнал, что это более чем кстати, потому что Джахе лучше не стало. Они пришли уже затемно, ночевали порознь — Беллами постеснялся пригласить ребят к себе, а они и не просили. А утром разведотряд уже вышел по направлению к острову. Беллами остался в Аркадии. Было решено, что Миллеры и их подразделение не хуже него справятся с охраной научной экспедиции, а его навыки больше пригодятся в поселении. Проще говоря, Кларк предпочитала опираться на него, а не на Миллера, и это было бы приятно, если бы не то, что теперь Беллами действительно волновался за Джона с Эмори, на этот раз за обоих. И, к собственному изумлению, предпочел бы, чтобы на него опирались они, а не Кларк. Но против решения Совета, конечно, не пошел. Теперь в моменты, когда у него хватало сил, он волновался и о том, как и когда они вернутся, и о том, как они встретятся. Так, как было все между ними раньше — то есть, никак, — не могло остаться, и он боялся и мечтал одновременно. Мечтал о том, как все может измениться, но далеко в мечтах не заходил. А боялся — того, что, может, его мечты глупость. Потому что тогда в пещере были исключительные обстоятельства, и вообще-то ничего особенного и не случилось. Подумаешь, его отогрели. Ну а что им было делать, смотреть, как он умирает от гипотермии? Подумаешь, помогли с разрядкой — у Эмори, судя по всему, насчет секса комплексов не было, она просто извлекла свою долю развлечений из вынужденного нахождения третьего лишнего в их с Мерфи постели. Она же откровенно забавлялась... и Мерфи тоже. Необъяснимыми оставались две вещи: его имя, выдохнутое Джоном в момент оргазма, и то, что Эмори повязку на руку надела только на подходе к Аркадии. И вот эти две вещи не давали ему покоя, мучая неясностью, надеждами непонятно на что, и заодно помогая забывать хоть ненадолго о проблемах реальной жизни. Рейвен вышла на связь на девятый день, когда Беллами был готов лезть на стенку от неизвестности. Сообщила, что взломала базу данных, систему связи и наблюдения, и работы у нее теперь поле непаханное, она остается, с ней один программист и Миллеры с Брайаном, а остальные возвращаются для помощи Аркадии. По словам Рейвен, они должны будут вернуться через три дня. Три дня Беллами старательно загонял себя до потери ощущения реальности, чтобы никаких планов на завтра перед сном: упал — уснул. К вечеру четвертого дня уже ничего не помогало, ни усталость, валившая с ног, ни аутотренинг, ни свежая ссора с Кларк на тему «тебе надо отдохнуть». Не надо ему отдыхать, сам разберется! Самое ужасное в его состоянии было в том, что никому нельзя было объяснить, от чего его так выкручивает. Он и сам плохо понимал, да и не хотел понимать — чего там, просто волнуется за своих. Солнце уже садилось, когда дежурные сообщили, что к Аркадии приближаются вооруженные люди. Свои. Беллами стоило огромного труда тут же не сорваться к воротам. Он еще дослушал Эбби, которая просила его организовать доставку лекарств в одну из дальних деревень трикру и забрать оттуда самых больных, покивал и пообещал, что завтра утром отправит туда джип, и только когда Эбби пошла к воротам, направился за ней, сдерживая себя и из последних сил изображая спокойствие. Вернувшиеся несли на себе любовно упакованное Рейвен оборудование и инструменты, которые могли пригодиться в Аркадии, а также тюки с пережившим катаклизм запасом продуктов, о которых говорил вскользь Джаха. Пока им помогали разгрузиться, у ворот царила суматоха, и понять, кто где было сложно. Беллами уже три раза дернули, демонстрируя целехонькие запасные блоки для солнечных батарей, ящик с инструментами и нечто в металлическом кожухе, на вид ужасно тяжелое. Беллами всех отправил к инженерам и, только проводив взглядом последнего, с кожухом, обнаружил неподалеку Мерфи, передающего Эбби какой-то сверток. Судя по ее обрадованному лицу, это было что-то из медикаментов или медицинских инструментов — мало что сейчас могло обрадовать ее больше. — Выглядишь хуже, чем тогда в лесу, — раздался рядом насмешливый голос, и Беллами вздрогнул, но постарался взять себя в руки. — И тебе привет. Вы все-таки вернулись... — Джон хотел остаться, чтобы помочь, но ваша ученая девчонка сказала, что нам лучше уйти обратно с первым отрядом. — Почему? — Беллами невольно заулыбался, сложно было оставаться серьезным рядом с такой смешливой собеседницей, но желание улыбаться быстро прошло, когда Эмори ответила: — Ей сказали, ты тут совсем извелся. А Джон сказал, что ты всегда был чокнутый, но, как видишь, мы вернулись. — Я не... кто сказал?! Я вовсе не извелся! Я устал просто как собака! — От возмущения болтливостью Монти Беллами даже не испытал смущения, полагающегося, когда ловят на жареном. — Да ладно, — фыркнула Эмори. — Думаешь, я не понимаю, почему ты за ним пошел лично, тогда, ночью? — И почему? — раздражение накатило прежде, чем он подумал, что не стоило вот так с наскоку воспринимать ее слова в штыки. Она снова фыркнула, пожала плечами. — А то ты сам не знаешь. Знал бы — не маялся бы дурью эти десять дней! Беллами задохнулся, пытаясь найти адекватный ответ, чтобы не испортить все, едва получив возможность поговорить, но найти слова не успел. — А тут вообще кормят или нам пойти поохотиться? — сказал позади голос Мерфи. Беллами резко развернулся и столкнулся взглядом с его — настороженным, вопросительным и каким-то осторожно-радостным. Ему захотелось сразу слишком многого: улыбнуться, хлопнуть по плечу, сказать что-то типа «я рад, что вы в порядке», тут же позвать их в свою каюту, немедленно притащить еды из столовой, чтобы есть с ними вместе, наедине, одновременно расспрашивая про поход к острову... Но вместо этого он поджал губы и сказал: — Рейвен говорила, вы через три дня будете. Что задержало? Радость и вопрос в серых глазах погасли моментально, сделав взгляд холодным и безразличным. — Тейт ногу повредил. Пока перевязали, пока носилки сделали... и отдыхать чаще пришлось. Ничего особенного, босс. Так что насчет еды? — Столовая там, — махнул он рукой. — Вас всех ждут давно. Сами дойдете или попросить вас проводить? — Я уже был в столовой, босс, не заблудимся, — бросил Мерфи и направился к станции, не оборачиваясь. Эмори коротко вздохнула, растеряв всю свою смешливость. — Ты не чокнутый, ты просто дурак, — сказала она и пошла следом. Дурак и есть. Беллами никак не мог выкинуть из головы первый, осторожно-радостный взгляд Мерфи. Нет, тот был прав. Он трус. Трус и предатель. Потому что сейчас хоть из благодарности за ту ночь мог бы не корчить «босса». Не говоря уже о том, что на самом-то деле больше всего на свете ему сейчас было нужно именно это — чтобы Джон вот так смотрел, чтобы между ними не было этой дурацкой стены, которую сам Беллами и начал строить, и продолжает, несмотря на то, что она почти рухнула в Полисе и потом, в той пещере. Нет, испугался, что не так поймут, испугался, что почудилось — как тогда, после их возвращения из пещеры, испугался пригласить их к себе на ночь. Взял, подобрал все камешки из почти осыпавшейся стенки и положил обратно. Дурак. И предатель. Потому что Джон тоже хотел, чтобы стены не было. Беллами снова вспомнил его дыхание в свою спину, его руку на своем животе, его доверие тогда, когда Эмори ложилась с ним рядом, когда они были все вместе, втроем, и это было... Это было. А он все это сейчас предал. Снова. Джон дал ему шанс все исправить, а он снова все поломал. Самобичеванием ему долго заниматься не позволили. Кейн дал всем вернувшимся отдых на ночь, а утром собрал экстренное совещание для обсуждения полученных от Рейвен материалов. Беллами был одним из приглашенных, и очень удивился, когда понял, что кроме него, Кейна, Эбби, Кларк и Монти больше никого нет. Казалось, что времена повышенной секретности уже прошли, все равно все всё знают, но вот — опять узкий круг Знающих. Он прикусил язык, чтобы не высказаться раньше времени, опыт показывал, что иногда лучше помолчать и послушать, а возмутиться всегда можно успеть. Да, такие вещи лучше было не рассказывать. Рейвен прислала координаты еще одного бункера — где-то между горой Уэзер и Аркадией. Если верить рукописным записям, которые она раскопала в одной из лабораторий, в этом бункере хранилась бомба замедленного действия. Копия ALIE. Первой ALIE. От Рейвен Монти передал настоятельную научно обоснованную рекомендацию: «Устроить большой бабах не глядя». Было бы удивительно, если бы хоть кто-то из собравшихся имел возражения. Вопрос был только в том, кто будет устраивать «бабах». Хотя, конечно, и это был не вопрос — зачем бы еще тут был Беллами Блейк. — Один не пойдешь, — сказала Кларк, когда речь зашла о деталях пути. — И взрывчатку нести лучше не одному, и идти по территории трикру, которым объяснять про твою цель тоже не стоит. Беллами пожал плечами — никто не спорит, только вот кто из них сможет составить ему компанию? И тут его осенило. Это было логично: кто лучше знал местные леса? Это было нелегко. И это была возможность все-таки попытаться что-то исправить. Мерфи согласился сразу, не спрашивая — зачем. Кажется, он был даже рад, что его просят о помощи. Ну, не компании же Беллами он радовался. Потому что было бы чему радоваться. Вышли они через час после совещания — втроем с Эмори, которая от Мерфи не отходила, да и польза от нее при вероятной встрече с местными была очевидной. Беллами тут же вырвался вперед, прислушиваясь, где там его спутники, но не оборачиваясь. Ему было мучительно стыдно, что он так и не нашел слов для Джона, не смог сказать ничего, что пробило бы хоть маленькую трещинку во вновь возведенной стенке. Понимал, что с каждым шагом отдаляется от них обоих все дальше, но ничего не мог поделать. На первом же привале оборвал Эмори, которая попыталась начать разговор на какую-то отвлеченную тему, поймал мрачный взгляд Мерфи, спохватился, извинился за резкость, но момент был безнадежно испорчен. Когда солнце начало клониться к закату, они вышли примерно на нужное место, но искать бункер было уже поздно. Нужно было найти место для ночлега, чтобы не попасть в неуютную ситуацию, как Беллами в свой марш-бросок до пещеры. Мерфи снял и положил на землю рюкзак, огляделся и впервые за весь день обратился к Беллами напрямую: — Оставайтесь тут, я один быстрее найду. Беллами проглотил возражения — потому что Мерфи был прав, без тяжелого груза он в одиночку быстрее и тише обойдет окрестности. А Беллами ни за что не расстался бы ни с автоматом, ни с взрывчаткой. — И долго собираешься доводить вас обоих и меня заодно? — поинтересовалась Эмори, воспользовавшись тем, что они остались наедине. Беллами мог огрызнуться, мог закосить под дурака — много усилий прикладывать не пришлось бы, чего уж там, «косить». Дурак и есть. Он мог сделать вид, что не понял, не расслышал... — Я не знаю, — вырвалось у него. — Я не хочу... доводить. — Если не хочешь — зачем прикидываешься, что тебе все равно? Беллами зажмурился. Как объяснить то, чего сам не понимаешь? Как сказать, что ему настолько не все равно, что хоть с обрыва вниз головой! Как сформулировать свой страх и уверенность, что Джон никогда не простит того, что Беллами поломал в самом начале? И как понять, чего он сам на самом деле хочет — прощения попросить, узнать, способен ли Джон еще быть ему другом, в любви признаться? Чтоб он сам знал! Одно точно. — Я не знаю, — повторил он, разжимая неизвестно когда сжатые кулаки и открывая глаза. — Я только знаю, что не хочу, чтобы было... как сейчас. — Ну так сделай что-нибудь, — пожала Эмори плечами. — Только не то, что со вчерашнего вечера делаешь. Беллами с тоской огляделся. Джона не было видно, и он начинал волноваться, хотя головой понимал, что из них троих в этом лесу волноваться больше всего надо о нем, а не об этой парочке выживенцев. И вдруг его стукнуло вопросом, который давно его беспокоил, но только сейчас сформулировался: — Ты что, хочешь его бросить? Он уставился на Эмори, испытывая крайне смешанные чувства. А иначе зачем ей так настойчиво хотеть, чтобы он что-то сделал, чтобы отношения наладил? Ему не хотелось, чтобы она сказала «да» в ответ на его вопрос. Потому что этого точно не хотел Мерфи, да и он сам уже успел привязаться, и чувствовал, что без нее будет плохо — и Мерфи, и, почему-то, ему самому. И одновременно не понимал, если «нет» — тогда зачем ей он, Беллами? Все его существо, привыкшее к определенности, к простоте отношений — или все развлекаются, или все всерьез, и тогда никаких развлечений уже, — все в нем металось и не находило ни выхода, ни покоя. Все было непонятно, сложно, и больше всего, обреченно понимал он, все усложнял он сам, но ничего не мог поделать. Сказать открыто — «я хочу быть с вами, и мне плевать, что подумает кто-то еще, некогда уже заботиться о такой ерунде» — Беллами не мог, потому что был уверен, что так нельзя. Ни вообще, ни ему особенно. Потому что не может быть так, чтобы они его вот так приняли. А если они решат с ним поиграть — это будет слишком больно. Боли он больше отчаянно не хотел. И тем не менее то, что он делал сейчас с собой и с ними, причиняло боль ничуть не меньшую, чем та, которой он хотел избежать. Стена, которую он строил, мешала ему дышать. — Вот еще, — качнула головой Эмори, перебивая все более путаный поток его мыслей. — И не подумаю. — Но... — Ты мне не мешаешь. А ему тебя не хватает. И тебе — его. Думаешь, там, в пещере, я не слышала ничего? Я не глухая. — В пещере? — Беллами чувствовал себя все глупее, потому что понимал, о чем она — то утро врезалось в его память слишком хорошо, чтобы не понимать. — Ну... очень редкий извращенец кончает с именем ненавистного врага, — усмехнулась она. — Обычно это имя того, кого любишь. И вы оба звали не меня. — Он тебя любит, — с неожиданным для самого себя жаром вскинулся Беллами. Ну как это! Он же видел, чувствовал, еще там, в Полисе, и потом по дороге в Аркадию, и там, в пещере, тоже... — Ну потому я и не собираюсь никуда уходить, — не удивившись его пылу, кивнула Эмори и резонно добавила: — Тем более, сейчас глупо раскидываться шансами на спасение. — Я Джону дал слово, — нахмурился Беллами, на секунду забыв о сложностях их отношений. Слово — это было просто и конкретно. И это было его слово. — Ты будешь в безопасности, даже если я запихну тебя туда вместо себя, поняла? Неважно, уйдешь ты или нет. Эмори замерла, глядя на него с таким лицом, будто впервые увидела, а потом улыбнулась — не насмешливо, как обычно, а по-настоящему, хорошей, светлой и чуть смущенной улыбкой: — Ты мне нравишься. Беллами опешил. В каком смысле? — Я нашел воду, и там есть более удобное место для ночлега. — На поляну из кустарника выскользнул Мерфи, взъерошенный и со свежей царапиной на щеке. — А еще там по дороге кусты с колючками, идите осторожнее. Он подхватил свой рюкзак и нырнул обратно в кусты, не оборачиваясь. Ни тени сомнения, что они встанут и пойдут за ним... Беллами не успел даже руку за своим рюкзаком протянуть, а Эмори уже поднялась, перекидывая через плечо ремень сумки. — Идешь? — Остаюсь тут, — вздохнул он и тоже встал на ноги, отчасти довольный, что Джон прервал их не самый простой разговор, отчасти досадуя, что уже не спросит, что она имела в виду последними словами. Джон шел уверенно, хотя шаг все-таки немного замедлил — уж конечно, не ради Беллами. Эмори и так бы не отстала, но теперь они шли рядом, негромко переговаривались, не оглядываясь. Беллами шел молча, поглядывая по сторонам, придерживая автомат на боку, и в какой-то момент ему показалось, что слева впереди что-то шевельнулось в листве. — Мерфи! — вырвалось у него раньше, чем он подумал, что лучше бы молчать. — Идем дальше, — негромко отозвался тот, еще больше замедлившись, но не остановился. — Тут нет никого, а если это зверь, лучше обойти его побыстрее, пока он нас не заметил. Только не бегите. Беллами видел краем глаза, как Джон подталкивает Эмори дальше, сам полуобернувшись, словно прикрывая ее. Но у него же из оружия только нож. А если это хищник? — Уходите, — так же тихо скомандовал Беллами и, стараясь двигаться бесшумно, плавно переместился так, чтобы оказаться между ребятами и шевелившимися ветками. — Я справлюсь. Он осторожно потянул автомат вверх, но тот зацепился ремнем за рюкзак, чего с Беллами раньше никогда не случалось. Он попытался отцепиться, но, не видя проблемы, это оказалось сложно сделать. Обернувшись, Беллами увидел, что Мерфи отступал в глубину леса совсем уже спиной вперед, не отводя тревожного взгляда широко открытых глаз от Беллами. Надо было уходить. Что бы это ни было, брякать оружием сейчас не стоило. Он уже сделал бесшумный осторожный шаг назад, когда в кустарнике что-то взревело, затрещало, ветки, ломаясь, раздвинулись, и на Беллами вывалился зверь. Огромный, едва ли не выше человека в холке, похожий на оленя, но ни разу не изящный — наоборот, тяжелый, мощный, с рогами, больше похожими на ветвистые лопаты, чем на тонкие ветки, с некрасивой горбоносой мордой, злобным, почти разумным взглядом темных глазок и огромными копытами. Какое-то мгновение они смотрели друг на друга, и Беллами почти физически ощутил, как тяжеленные копыта вламываются в его грудную клетку, а рога-лопаты, размером больше его головы, довершают дело. — Бегите! — крикнул он, каким-то остатком сознания понимая, что не надо было кричать, что Джон и так уже убегает и уводит Эмори, что крик только спровоцирует этого монстра... но было поздно. Чудовищный зверь наклонил голову, не сводя буравящего взгляда с человека, и издал звук, который больше напоминал недовольное фырчание, но для Беллами этот звук был страшнее рева гориллы. С каким-то ледяным спокойствием он ясно осознал — он не успеет сделать ни шагу. И копыта проломят не грудь, а спину. Руки действовали словно отдельно от его одеревеневшего тела. Спокойно, уже не боясь шума, с силой, преодолевающей сцепку ремня с пряжками рюкзака, сдирают автомат, поднимают к глазам, прицел-точка меж глазок чудовища, любезно им подставленная, зверь молча кидается вперед, палец жмет на спуск, Беллами еще успевает увидеть кровавое месиво, брызнувшее на рога-лопаты, и ноги сами же пружинят, подкидывая тело вверх и в сторону, с дороги падающего лбом в землю гигантского тела. Он еще вдохнуть не успел, а монстр вдруг дернулся, подгибая ноги, словно собирался встать, и тело Беллами снова среагировало без участия головы... Пришел в себя он в чаще, окруженный широкими стволами. Эмори увидел первой, она стояла, прислонившись к одному из деревьев, и тяжело дышала. Перевести дыхание ему тоже оказалось трудно. Колотило при одном воспоминании о гигантской туше, состоящей из копыт и рогов, несшейся на него, — и при осознании, что им крупно повезло, что в девяносто девяти процентах вероятности под копытами этого монстра погибал и Джон, и Эмори, и он сам, что в большинстве вариантов развития событий он не мог их спасти, потому что не успевал, не справлялся с оружием, промахивался... Им достался такой ничтожно малый процент чистого везения... Ему очень давно не бывало так страшно наяву. Он едва смог сфокусировать взгляд, все еще не очень понимая, где они находятся, когда его почти снесло с ног, с размаху приложив спиной о ствол дерева и чудом не расколов об него голову. — Какого черта? Какого, сука, гребаного черта ты там остановился?! Очень, очень давно Беллами не слышал такой ослепительной ярости в голосе Мерфи. И вообще-то надеялся никогда не слышать. И уж точно не в свой адрес. Зато теперь он точно уверен, что Мерфи живой. И не ранен. Иначе бы он не мог его трясти с такой силой, что Беллами не сумел даже руки поднять, чтобы хоть как-то попытаться его остановить. — Я же сказал, что справлюсь, — с трудом выталкивая слова из пережатого страхом горла, произнес он. Голос от тряски прерывался и звучал просто жалко. Примерно так, как Беллами себя чувствовал. — С чем, с этим? — Последнее слово звучало написанным большими плакатными буквами. — Ты с этим собирался справляться?! «Ну я же справился», — хотел сказать Беллами, но больше не мог ни звука выдавить. — Джон, хватит! — Эмори тоже в порядке, раз решилась попытаться оторвать от него Мерфи в таком бешенстве. Чего он так злится, все же нормально... Кажется. — Решил сам его добить, что ли? — Сволочь! — яростно бросил тот, напоследок тряхнув Беллами, и выпустил. Тут Беллами осознал, что колени просто подгибаются, и на ногах он до этого момента стоял только потому, что Джон прижимал его к стволу. Наплевав на все, он просто позволил себе сесть на землю и закрыть глаза. Надо было успокоиться. Тут по его голове, плечам, рукам, груди пробежались пальцами, ощупывая, проверяя. «Я в порядке», — и это он тоже произнести не смог. Опять. Опять им его в чувство приводить. Хватит уже! Соберись. Открой глаза и хватит трястись. Все закончилось, и все живы. Повезло. Все закончилось. Беллами глубоко вдохнул, задержал дыхание, досчитал до десяти, выдохнул и открыл глаза. Встревоженная Эмори сидела рядом — это она только что обшаривала его тело в поисках ран. Под ее взглядом стало спокойнее. Беллами попытался улыбнуться. — Я в норме, — сказал он, и у него получилось. Даже вполне уверенно. — Мы тоже, — отозвалась она и тоже улыбнулась — слегка вздрагивающей улыбкой. — Это был лось. — Я знаю. Видел... в книгах. Они травоядные... были до катаклизма. — Этот явно был хищный! — зло рявкнул Мерфи откуда-то сверху, и Беллами поднял голову, чтобы разглядеть его лицо. Злое, с огромными белыми от ярости глазами. — Не ори, — попросил Беллами. У него не было сил ругаться. Да, он виноват, наверняка, это он потревожил животное, да, не надо было бояться звякнуть оружием, надо было стрелять, пока не стало поздно, да, надо было... — Я его разозлил, мне было и разгребать. Ну, глупо было стоять там, но... Все же нормально. — Он бы тебя затоптал, идиот, даже не заметив! — А что мне было делать? — начал злиться и Беллами. Чего Джону от него нужно? — Мы бы от него не убежали, а стрелять в это на ходу было без шансов, только в упор! Он поднялся на ноги, покачнулся, шарахнувшись от Эмори, которая хотела его поддержать. — Я знаю, что опять виноват, что лез, куда не просили, я знаю, что из-за меня вы чуть не погибли, я знаю, что идиот! Но больше все равно ничего нельзя было сделать, поэтому я остановился! — Он кричал все громче, сам не зная, отчего ему так больно. — Я больше ничего не мог сделать, но должен был сделать хоть что-то! — Почему ты?! — перебил его Мерфи, и Беллами запнулся в своем отчаянном крике, оборвавшись на полуслове. — Почему это всегда должен быть ты? Почему ты лезешь везде, где опасно, затыкаешь собой все дыры, почему ты так уверен, что кроме тебя никто ничего не может сделать? Беллами подумал, но единственный найденный ответ ему не понравился своей откровенностью. Однако Мерфи молчал, ожидая, и его требовательный взгляд мешал увильнуть, промолчать, прекратить этот разговор. — Потому что, пока я могу сделать хоть что-то, я больше никому не дам погибнуть. Я больше никого не хочу терять! «Особенно вас», — хотелось добавить, но он умолк. — Он вышел на нас сам, — тихо сказала Эмори. — Что? — Лось вышел сам. Он был готов напасть еще до того, как увидел нас, в это время года они очень злые, хотя обычно просто жрут траву и кусты... Я заметила. Ты не виноват. Это не ты его разозлил. — Она подняла голову и встретилась взглядом с Беллами. — Но ты хотел нас спасти. И у тебя получилось. — Ты чуть сам не погиб, и это было глупо, — на тон ниже сказал Мерфи, и глаза его больше не были пугающе белыми. — У меня получилось, — повторил он слова Эмори. — А если бы получилось у этой твари? — Мерфи снова начал заводиться, а Беллами вдруг вспомнил его дыхание на позвоночнике и глухое «а если бы я выстрелил раньше, чем понял, что это ты?» — Если бы это помогло вам уйти подальше — и черт с ним. Со мной. — Ты гребаный эгоист, — как-то устало отозвался Мерфи, развернулся и пошел поднимать брошенный рюкзак. Больно. — Всегда им был, — сказал Беллами ему в спину — в ту самую стену — и огляделся. Автомат-то он не выпустил, а вот рюкзак свой куда-то отбросил, хорошо еще не по дороге. У родника, который нашел Джон, было удобное место под двумя деревьями с плотно сплетенными ветвями — этакий естественный шалаш, который и от дождя бы защитил, если что, но дождя не предвиделось. Правда, места было маловато, но Эмори решительно расстелила все три пластиковые подстилки рядом, и правда, чего мелочиться, — первый раз им, что ли, вместе спать... Джон возился с костром, а Беллами занялся автоматом: почему-то после сегодняшнего захотелось убедиться, что оружие в порядке, вычищено и готово к действию, если что. Смеркалось, как всегда в лесу, быстро, когда они доедали ужин, солнце окончательно село. Эмори умылась у родника и забралась в «шалаш», не дожидаясь, когда к ней кто-нибудь присоединится. — Иди спать, — сказал Мерфи, застегивая рюкзак и не глядя в сторону Беллами. — Я посижу еще. Вдруг снова лоси поскачут. Нам завтра надо обойти следующий квадрат, если и там ничего не найдем, придется сменить направление... Иди отдыхай. Герой. Рюкзак он передал Эмори под навес, вернулся к костру, сел спиной к Беллами и уставился в огонь. Беллами подумал, взял вычищенный автомат и сунул его в руки Джона — на мгновение его охватило ощущение, что это уже было, — стараясь не смотреть ему в лицо. Тот молча, по-прежнему не глядя, взял оружие. Стена становилась физически осязаемой. Беллами направился к шалашу, но не дошел. — Я тебя не обвинял, — сказал вдруг за спиной Мерфи, и Беллами остановился, не поворачиваясь. — Не в том, что ты эту тварь раздразнил. Он сам, я тоже видел. Беллами молчал, не зная, что сказать, и оборачиваться опасался. — Я просто испугался. Трещина по стене прошла ровно посередине, расходясь просто на глазах. С плеч словно свалился огромный, как тот лось, камень — конечно, с перепугу и не так вызверишься. — Я тоже, — вырвалось у него, то ли от так и не выплеснутого пережитого страха, то ли от радости, что Джон все-таки заговорил с ним нормально, — потому и про оружие не сразу сообразил, такая туша... — Я испугался, что он тебя забьет. Беллами словно заткнули рот. Он медленно повернулся. Джон сидел у костра, все так же, спиной к нему, отложив автомат на землю и обхватив колени руками. — Ты долбаный эгоист, Белл, — продолжал Джон, не шевелясь. — Так утонул в дурацких комплексах, что вообще ничего не видишь вокруг. Так увлекся спасением мира, что плюешь на все, кроме собственного «я всех спасу, хоть бы и сдохну». А что будет после того, как ты всех спасешь и сдохнешь, тебя не волнует. Дурацкие какие-то претензии. — Если я всех спасу, это и будет «после», — недоуменно сказал Беллами и медленно пошел обратно. Даже если бы он засыпал на ходу и у него закрывались глаза, он бы сейчас руками их насильно открывал, чтобы не упустить этот момент. Но вообще он все равно не заснул бы, слишком еще все тряслось внутри. — А что изменится, если я сдохну-то? Всем только спокойнее будет. Может, не стоило этого говорить. Как будто он напрашивается на возражения «что ты, ты всем так нужен, так нужен, конечно, все изменится!» Но поздно, уже сказалось. Джон обернулся и не отрывал от него взгляд, пока Беллами не сел рядом на землю, а потом усмехнулся, выбивая еще пару камешков из треснувшей стенки: — Не, что спокойнее станет — это факт. От тебя слишком много шума и нервотрепки. Ну вот, напросился. Пойти, что ли, обратно, спать? — То в пропасть лезешь, то в небоскреб, то в кислоту, то под пулю, то под нож, то к врачам-мясникам в клетку... То под руку злобной сестрице, то к маньяку-мстителю... То замерзнуть норовишь, то под лося броситься. С тобой никаких нервов не хватит у нормального человека. Беллами мысленно загибал пальцы — Джон старательно перечислял практически все, что с ним случилось с тех пор, как они высадились на Землю. Даже то, о чем не мог, по идее, знать. Специально, что ли, о нем расспрашивал? — Тебе правда так хочется сдохнуть поскорее, а? Он подумал, прежде чем ответить. — Вообще-то не очень. Но если нужно будет, лучше сдохну я... чем вы. — Последнее на этот раз он все-таки добавил, потому что все остальное сейчас было слишком далеко и как будто даже неважно. Аркадия, поиски убежища, грядущая смерть, прошлые ошибки, смерти, вина, Октавия, Кларк... все было не здесь и не сейчас. А сейчас происходило что-то важное, что нельзя было упустить. — Кому будет лучше? Беллами пожал плечами: — Вообще. — Мне будет хуже, — серьезно сказал Джон. — Ты поэтому меня чуть не убил там? — поддел Беллами, чувствуя, как уходит то, что делало больно с момента тех криков Мерфи под деревом, и как рушится напрочь, рассыпаясь в пыль, чертова стена. — Ты напросился. На плечи Беллами легли руки, слева просто легонько сжались неуклюжие пальцы, а правое плечо мягко начали разминать, помогая сведенным от пережитого напряжения мышцам. — Мне тоже будет хуже, — сказала Эмори за спиной. — И я тоже испугалась. Беллами накрыл ее искривленные пальцы ладонью и сжал. Она не обязана была все это делать и говорить. Допустим, она терпела его рядом потому, что он зачем-то был нужен Мерфи — об этом тоже стоило подумать, отдельно, — но говорить вот это все, давая понять, что ей не все равно, было совсем не нужно. Если только она и правда это вот все чувствовала. Так, что не смогла промолчать. Сбоку его толкнуло теплое — в плечо с их сцепленными ладонями лбом уперся Джон. Как будто слова закончились, и теперь он мог объясняться только жестами. Беллами осторожно поднял свободную руку и обнял его, притягивая к себе еще ближе. Получилось так естественно и просто, что стало даже страшно — а вдруг кажется? Вдруг Джон сейчас вывернется, или Эмори фыркнет, выдернет руку... и тут Эмори свою ладонь действительно медленно высвободила. Но не фыркнула и не ушла. Села с другого бока и так же просто и естественно обхватила Беллами обеими руками, спрятав лицо куда-то в плечо, лишь плотнее прижавшись, когда он обнял и ее тоже. Бункер они нашли наутро, там, где Рейвен и указывала. Взрыв наверняка должен был привлечь местных, поэтому уходили они быстро и сосредоточенно. И путь обратно был гораздо проще, потому что куда легче идти, когда нет необходимости нести друг между другом стену.
10112846	Rising In Love	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Betty Cooper, Veronica Lodge, Sabrina Spellman, Casper McFadden, Archie Andrews, Jughead Jones, Cheryl Blossom", "Fandom": "Riverdale (TV 2017)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Ryaninthesky", "chapters": "5/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00", "words": "17,533", "Additional Tags": "Evil!veronica seducing mostlyinnocent!betty, one summer can change everything, the slowest of burns, ok maybe medium slow burn, they'll get there eventually I promis, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence", "Relationship": "Betty Cooper/Veronica Lodge", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“Don’t ever think I fell for you, or fell over you. I didn’t fall in love, I rose in it.” - Jazz, Toni Morrison. There was a girl, because of course there was, because while there had been many, many boys, there was always a girl.There was a girl, and her name was Betty Cooper, and Veronica had fallen instantly in want. It was the beginning of summer vacation, a sickly hot June day in Lawrence, Kansas, and the weather was just one on a very long list of things Veronica Lodge was blaming for the terrible day she was having. The Toni Morrison Society having the audacity to schedule their summer seminar in Kansas was pretty high up there, though. Popular, pretty high school students should not have to suffer simply because the president of the society had apparently made a charity case of whatever ‘Wizard of Oz’ rejects inhabited this barren plain.In short, the president of the Toni Morrison Society taught in Kansas, the Toni Morrison Summer Writing Seminar was in Kansas, so now Veronica Lodge was in Kansas.And apparently Kansas even managed to fuck up the simplest instructions regarding the care of New York teen socialites.“I’m sorry mija, but I’m not going to have the dean of the university fired just because you have a double room instead of a single.” Hermione Lodge had always done her best to instill humility and selflessness in her only child; unfortunately, she was usually preempted by her husband, who bought Veronica everything she wanted, and their social class, which taught Veronica that the ability to do so was the only thing that mattered. “It will be good for you, to meet some other people. How will your writing improve if you never experience anything beyond Park Avenue?”“I’m fine with observing it, mami, I don’t need to wallow in it.”Hermione rolled her eyes. “Think of it as suffering for your art, then. But I need to get going, I have to be back in New York for your father’s dinner. Smithers!” She called. “The bags, please.”Veronica pouted, but she considered herself far too mature at sixteen to throw a tantrum in public. If her mother was not going to see reason, she supposed she would have to persevere as best she could in these trying times. At least Sabrina and Sis would be here soon; she could avoid these cornfed hicks as much as possible.The room itself, on a floor of the freshman dorm reserved for seminar participants, would have been barely habitable for two people let alone one Veronica. The closet, of course, was totally unacceptable, and she was glad she’d spent several days at home coordinating outfits for maximum adaptability. Dressing to express was as much an art as writing, and Veronica had perfectly honed her craft. The rest of the room - two twin beds, two faux-wood desks, and two torturous-looking chairs - she had expected, planned for, and decided to approach philosophically. A few hipster/bohemian chic touches and she could stand to describe the accommodations to her friends back in New York as ‘terrible, of course, but one does what one can.’“Hardly the Ritz, darling, but you’ll be fine.” Hermione kissed Veronica’s cheek. “And I have to get going. Call when you can, but don’t forget we have dinner with the Jones’s tomorrow and the theatre on Friday.” She stepped back to look at her daughter, all grown up. All too soon she wouldn’t be sending her daughter away for the summer but for college, and then forever. On a whim, she unclasped the string of pearls from her neck and circled it around her daughters. “So I’ll still be with you. I’ll miss you so much, mija. I love you.”“I love you too, mom.” Veronica hugged her mom, feeling slightly childish but not enough to let go. There was no one around to see anyway. “Have a good flight.” With a final wave, Hermione and Smithers left Veronica standing in the middle of a strange room, alone and away from home for the first time in her life. It was an odd feeling, and Veronica hated it.“Hey.”With a startled yelp - she kind of hated that too - Veronica spun around. In the doorway was another girl, as different from Veronica as night from day. Veronica automatically appraised the newcomer; pretty (gorgeous, really) in a girl-next-door sort of way. Blonde hair, green eyes, red flannel shirt, jeans, and honest-to-God Chuck Taylors. She looked like an Americana wet dream. Veronica wanted to devour her.The girl blushed at Veronica’s frank gaze. “Betty Cooper. If you’re Veronica Lodge, I’m your roommate.”Veronica’s lips slid back into a predatory smile as she took Betty’s outstretched hand, using it to draw herself closer and pressing a kiss to the girl’s cheek. She’s bet her last pair of Jimmy Choos that she was a virgin, and would give very good odds that she’d never been kissed, either, from the way her breath hitched slightly and the tendons in her neck twisted as she swallowed. The slightly alcoholic scent of cheap perfume hit Veronica with her next breath and the pulse of adrenaline she felt skittered through her veins like a drug.Suddenly this summer seemed alive with possibility.“I’m so happy to meet you, Betty.” She pulled back, careful to subtly trail her fingers over Betty’s wrist. “I’m sure we’ll be great friends.”Betty looked a little bit like she’d been hit by...well, not quite a truck, but maybe a Porsche. Something small and sleek and expensive, like the girl who was apparently her new roommate for the next few weeks. To the small-town Riverdale girl, Veronica seemed impossibly cool and mature. It made her feel tongue-tied and flustered.“Y-yeah, I hope so. Nice to meet you too.” She automatically moved to step into the room and stumbled slightly on the bags she’d left forgotten at her feet.“Be careful!” Veronica exclaimed, catching Betty’s wrist before she could fall. “You don’t want to break your arm before the writing even starts.”This girl is very close to me. Betty thought, the renewed contact - why is there so much touching? - momentarily blanking her brain, and just when she’d managed to form words and sentences and was starting to feel pretty good about herself. The Coopers were not a very physically demonstrative family. Of course she and her sister hugged often, but for someone whose best friends had been boys since the time they were in diapers, and who didn’t, living in Riverdale, meet a lot of strangers….it was a little much. All together it made Betty feel like she was being swept up in a very fashionable tornado, just trying to keep her feet under her and breath in her lungs, and not doing a very good job of either so far.“Where are your other bags?” Veronica was picking one up and moving it carefully out of the way, leaving only the one the Betty had tripped over.“That’s all I have.” Now that she’d (mostly) dealt with meeting her new roommate, Betty took her first proper look at their room...and the discrepancy between her two duffel bags and Veronica’s pile of very expensive, very large suitcases.“Oh. You’re so lucky, though; I’m sure with your figure anything looks good.” Veronica said, a little bit of uncertainty coloring her voice as she tried to soften the faux pas. She could be a bitch, yes, but she hadn’t actually meant to be rude to Betty. She’d just never seen anyone bring so few bags for a weekend trip, let alone several weeks. Poor people really were different.Since both Betty and Veronica had arrived early in the day, they had plenty of time to unpack and get their room set up. It helped that the lion’s share of decisions were made by Veronica. ‘I hate having the sun in my eyes when I wake up, would you mind taking that bed? Thanks so much.’ Still, Betty was exhausted when everything was finally arranged around dinnertime. She left her new roommate sorting shoes and went to find the dining hall.As it turned out, college dining halls weren’t much different from high school cafeterias, with the exception of a truly impressive cereal bar. Gathering her tray, Betty scanned the dining room; not knowing anyone made her nervous, but she’d come to the seminar to meet new people and have new experiences, so she steeled herself and approached one of the tables.“Mind if I sit?”“Go for it.”There were only two other students sitting at the table, a brown-haired girl with a punk vibe and band shirt, and a slim and stylish boy with pale skin, blue eyes, and platinum-blonde hair.“I’m Betty.” She introduced herself.“Brigitte Reilly.” The girl stuck out a hand. “How’s it going?”“And I’m Casper McFadden.” The boy replied. He had been furiously scribbling in a notebook when Betty walked up, but he quickly closed it and put a hand on it protectively. “So, where are you from, Superteen?”Brigitte slapped him lightly with a spoon. “Ignore him, he’s an idiot. He’s been giving nicknames to everyone who walks in.”“Well I have to entertain myself somehow. So, miss blonde and green-eyed All-American, please explain yourself. We’re waiting with baited breath.”Betty’s eyebrows rose a little in surprise at the sudden interrogation, but she supposed it was one way to get to know people. “I’m from Riverdale, actually.”“Cool!” said Brigitte. “I’m in Centerville; we’re practically neighbors!”Casper groaned. “Oh my God, you absolute hicks.”“He thinks he can look down on everyone because he lives in New York now.” Brigitte stage-whispered to Betty. “But don’t let him fool you. He lived down the street from me until he was ten.”He huffed and grabbed a fry from Brigitte’s plate. “How I’m supposed to maintain an aura of romantic mystery with you around I’m sure I don’t know.”“You’re doing fine.” Betty laughed. “And Centerville is plenty romantic compared to Riverdale. At least you have a social calendar that takes up more than one page.”Casper grinned. “I like her. Let’s keep her.”Before Betty could form a response - she didn’t even know what she was going to say, considering her conflicting emotions on being ‘claimed’ and also the pride she was feeling from someone actually wanting to claim her in the first place - a shriek like a banshee nearly made her jump out of her chair.The whole dining room turned to watch as a short blonde girl screamed “Ronnie!” and enveloped Veronica, who had just entered the room, in a whirlwind of hugs and cheek-kissing.“Ughhh” Casper groaned with a contempt only one intimately acquainted with a situation could produce. “I can’t believe they actually came.”“Who?”“That, my dear friend, is Veronica Lodge.” He answered Brigitte’s question with a flourish. Veronica was now sitting at a table with the loud blonde and a gorgeous redhead, all of them looking like they’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. “And those two harpies flanking her,” he gestured at them one by one with a fry, “are Sabrina Spellman and Melissa Keene. Everyone knows Veronica’s actually as smart as she is ruthless but how those other two passed daycare I’ll never know. I can’t believe she got them to come all the way out here.”Park Avenue gossip was clearly a familiar topic to Brigitte, who was barely listening to Casper’s rant while eating and humming an unfamiliar tune. Betty, on the other hand, had never been to or even near Park Avenue, and like any other small-town girl, was enraptured. “Do you know them?”“Acquaintances only; they’re not exactly in my circle of friends. But my best friend’s sister is a sophomore at Spence and she says they practically rule the school. New York’s own live-action ‘Mean Girls.’ I heard Veronica once made a teacher have a nervous breakdown with a look.”“Oh, come on. Nobody’s like that in real life.” Casper looked personally affronted that she didn’t believe his dramatic gossip. “Veronica’s my roommate and she seemed perfectly nice to me. A little out of touch, maybe, but certainly not some teen drama villain.”“Oh, honey. Be very careful with that one. The only time I’ve ever heard of Veronica being nice is when she wanted something.” He scanned his eyes over Betty’s body purposefully. “Or someone.”Betty nearly knocked over her water, sputtering to try and come up with a response.“We’re, like, a thousand miles from New York Cas, leave the poor kid alone.” Brigitte turned to Betty. “See why I said to ignore him? He thinks everything’s a plot in one of his books.”“You say gothic horror, I say private school memoir.”“Veronica’s, uhm, like that? Like, likes girls?” Betty groaned internally at the sentence she just spit out. If she didn’t get her act together she wasn’t going to be able to convince anyone she could pass for a decent writer. Unfortunately, it looked like her poorly-worded ramblings had offended Brigitte.“Is there a problem with that, Riverdale? I’m bi.”“No no no!” Betty waved her hands. “My best friend’s gay, of course I don’t have a problem with it! I just...she just doesn’t look like the type.” Brigitte eyed her appraisingly but decided to let Betty off the hook. “Looks aren’t anything. Take Cas here. Shockingly straight.”The boy grinned. “I’m not gay but I am fabulous. I get all the good dirt letting people think what they want, though. And your Miss Lodge? Rumor has it she makes your wildest all-girls school fantasies look tame.”“Yours maybe.” Brigitte scoffed.“I’m not kidding. Jake told me they meet up at the Met every day after school to bum cigarettes from the guys and plan the week’s debauchery, and Wes knows the guy who made their fake IDs.”“Hearsay and conjecture, and I’m tired of it. Let’s talk about something important.”The conversation turned to their favorite literature and Betty was glad for the change. She knew how rumors could get twisted and doubted that half of what Casper had said was true, but she still glanced over at Veronica’s table. She couldn’t help it; the other girl intrigued her with her curious mix of alpha bitch reputation and sweet roommate, and Betty was too much a journalist’s daughter not to want to search out the truth in any story. Her gaze was met by mischievous brown eyes, one eyebrow cocked questioningly, as if Veronica knew what she was thinking and was challenging her to dig deeper. Betty blushed at being caught and resolutely turned back to the conversation with her new friends, determined to put Veronica out of her mind. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Please tell me you aren't looking at Casper the friendly ghost over there.” Sis’s high, slightly nasal voice cut into Veronica’s thoughts and she realized she’d been staring. “Because you know I love you but if you ever hooked up with that freak I’d have to have you put down for the public good.”“Wow, thanks Sissy. I’m so glad I have you looking out for me.”Melissa shrugged, as if to say ‘you’d do the same to me and you know it.’“Just considering my summer project, girls. What do you think? The tall blonde?” She gestured towards Betty, and both girls twisted in their seats to get a better look, not trying to hide their actions. They ran teen societies; they didn’t need to be subtle.“Honestly Ronnie, really? You have the most fashionable, exciting men and women in the most fashionable, exciting city in the world chasing you and you want to go after Miss Fried Butter Festival 2016?”“They’re all sluts like you, Sis, I want a challenge. Something different.”The blonde, Sabrina, rolled her eyes at both of them. “You two would be so much happier if you’d just pick someone and stick with them.”“What, like you and Harvey? I’d rather walk around Central Park barefoot.”“Yeah, talk about boring.”Sabrina regarded them haughtily over the edge of her Starbucks cup. She and her on-again, off-again boyfriend had been on-again for over six months this time, and it made her feel very mature compared to the other girls. She never failed to remind them of this fact, either.“You’re just jealous. When you’re really in love with someone, it’s... different. Like a magic spell being cast on your heart, and you don’t even want to look at anyone else because you have everything you need right there in one person.” She trailed off, dreamily thinking about her tall, blonde, football-playing boyfriend.“Yeah, thanks but no thanks Sabby.” Veronica scoffed. “Someone watching your every move, checking your phone, expecting you to spend all your time with them? That’s a prison sentence, not a relationship. Hard pass.”“What do you even know about it, Veronica Lodge?” Retorted Sabrina, stung. “No one besides those Gwyneth Paltrow-wannabes you hook up with in the back of clubs would even go for you anyway.”Melissa snickers, because it’s true, Veronica definitely has a type, and that type is tall, fair-haired, and easily controlled. It applies to both boys and girls.“Please.” Veronica flipped her hair. “I can get anyone I want.”“Ok, Lodge, bet on it. Hook up with blondie there by the end of the summer. And no ‘let’s practice kissing, wow I’m so drunk bullshit.’ If she’s too drunk to drive, it doesn’t count.”“I thought this was supposed to be a challenge. I was going to do that anyway.”“Good, it’ll be no problem then.”“Sabby…” Melissa tried to convey with her eyes what a bad idea she thought this bet was, but Sabrina didn’t seen to be getting it, so she had to resort to words. “I don’t think this is a good idea. You haven’t won a bet with Ronnie in two years.”“There is no way that girl is hooking up with V. No way. None. Girls like that are president of the student government and debate club and have boring, boy-next-door boyfriends. They don’t experiment with sexy bitches like our Veronica until college.”“Appreciate the love, S.”“Anytime, babe.”“Thanks, but I have a bet to win first. You’ll just have to get in line.”Melissa flicked her eyes back and forth between the two. It was better (and more entertaining) than the time her daddy got them tickets for the US Open. Although granted, there had been a very large amount of alcohol consumed that weekend...with a delighted laugh she slapped her hand down on the table. “Time out!”The other girls were clearly used to her antics and remained unfazed, glaring at each other in (mostly) friendly animosity. A boy in at a neighboring table was not so lucky, and ended up spilling Coke all over his shirt in surprise. Melissa briefly turned toward him, the urge to embarrass this clearly lesser being automatic, but she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.“What are the stakes of this wager?” She’d heard that line in a movie once, and it made her feel very important.“Shopping spree. Loser pays.” Sabrina spat.“Fine by me.” Veronica agreed. “Better start figuring out how you’re going to explain that to your aunts.”“I’m not going to have to explain anything. All you’ve done so far is stare at the girl like a lovesick puppy.”“Ah see, Sabby dear, that’s where you’re wrong.” Veronica grinned, a cloyingly sweet smile. “Her name’s Betty, and she’s my roommate.” It was almost an hour after curfew when Veronica came creeping back into the room. She hadn’t really meant to be out so late, but as usually happened when she was hanging out with Sis and Sabrina, one thing lead to another. Their relationship was...she really wasn’t sure how to describe it. The two girls were the closest thing she had to friends, even if she wouldn’t necessarily trust them as far as she could throw them. It was more like...a mutual understanding. They were all rich, and in a way that actually meant something in New York. With the money, came notoriety. Melissa was Katy Keene’s sister, so of course hardly a week went by that she wasn’t pictured in some kind of gossip page or fashion blog. Sabrina, the trust fund baby, whose life was ordered by her two eccentric aunts, with the perfect, Ivy-bound boyfriend, often got the least press of any of them, but that was as much careful manipulation on her part as anything else. Sabrina preferred the security offered by staying in the shadows but knowing everything about everyone. It wasn’t malicious, so much, as an exercise in self-preservation. Veronica suspected she cared about the secrets of other because she had some major ones of her own, although it wasn’t really something they talked about, nor was Veronica certain she actually wanted to know. At any rate, it wasn’t a bad idea. As everyone who was anyone in New York well knew, it was a very short distance from queen or king of one of the incredibly exclusive private schools to a seat of power in government or business, and, well, the lessons learned in the classrooms weren’t necessarily the most important ones.Personally, Veronica found it exhausting. She wasn’t the only sister and ward of one of the most glamorous women in the world, like Sis, nor did she particularly enjoy the machinations of networking and society, like Sabrina. Of course she kept up with them, she wasn’t stupid, it just...at times it all seemed so small. She wondered what it was called when you felt like you were going through a midlife crisis at sixteen. ‘Growing up,’ her mother would probably say. If growing up meant going through the motions for friendships you weren’t even sure you wanted, all for some perceived gain in the future when you either back-stabbed your ‘friends’ or leveraged the relationship to better your own position. Well.She was probably overthinking it again. The one time she’d cautiously brought up these concerns to her father he’d laughed and kissed her forehead and told her not to worry so much. That this was the way the world worked, and she didn’t have to like it all the time, but if she worked with it she would be happy and safe and successful. “It’s all a game, darling,” he’d soothed into her hair, “play by the rules, be smart, and you’ll win. That’s what we Lodges do.” “But Daddy,” she’d asked. “Don’t you want to have any friends?” He’d chuckled at that. “I have you and your mom; what more do I need?”Veronica wasn’t sure, except that she still felt something was missing. Maybe it was because daddy always said mom was his best friend. He’d married her, even though they were different in just about everything. So he didn’t need any other friends anymore. Teenage girls were different, Veronica was very sure about that, and being friends with someone shouldn’t mean a confusing struggle between sharing everything you did and constantly watching your back. Maybe something for my book, she laughed to herself, then immediately banged her shin against one of the desks with a muffled curse. She hadn’t wanted to wake Betty - she was really too tired to be charming, and she was too proud to not at least try - but at this rate she’d run into everything in the room and wake her up anyway. Cautiously she flipped her phone flashlight on, keeping the beam angled down as much as possible.“Veronica?” a soft voice froze her steps. Dammit.“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”“It’s okay.” Betty said, sitting up in bed. In the dim light from the flash Veronica could tell that she was wearing a pale pink t-shirt with a...rabbit? On it. For Veronica, tired as she was, it was distractingly adorable. “I mean, I wasn’t really asleep.”“Oh. Good.”Betty laughed. “So you can turn on the light if you want. I don’t mind.”A little more stumbling, and Veronica was able to reach the switch and flick it on, both of them blinking in the sudden glare. With more light than the tiny flash of her cellphone, Veronica could see that while Betty had been in bed when she entered, it didn’t look like she had slept much at all. She looked achingly innocent with her hair down and no makeup, lips full and lightly pink, a small crease on her cheek from the pillow, but her eyes wide and clear and sharply awake. Veronica wondered if she ever looked that young, even though they were the same age. She suddenly felt incredibly disconnected from the blonde, more distant than she’d ever felt from another person. The same age, in the same room, but occupying completely different worlds.She slowly became aware that the mouth she was staring at was moving, forming words.“Veronica?”She shook herself slightly. “Yeah, sorry-” she'd already said that “-it’s...been a long day.” Without thinking she began going through the closet, picking out the soft shorts and (decidedly bunny-less) t-shirt combo she slept in. The motions were simple; pearls off, dress off, slide shirt on, don’t trip over shorts. It gave her a second to think, to relax her mind and narrow her thoughts from self-pity and existential angst - which she hated in others but was just as inclined to as any teenager - to the here-and-now. Stop. Breathe. Let the world take care of itself.It returned some of her usual confidence to notice that Betty was very seriously studying her phone - and just as pointedly not looking at her - with a slight blush blooming across her cheeks.“Couldn’t sleep?” Veronica asked, when she was again properly clothed.“Ah. No, actually.” Betty ducked her head. “It’s my first time away from home. That’s not, y’know, a sleepover or something. My parents aren’t really the summer-camp type. So all of this-” she gestured around the room “-it’s all kind of new. I’m just not used to it yet.” Her head was up, again, and vaguely defiant, daring Veronica to make a crack about her lack of foreign sleeping experiences.“Me too.” Veronica smiled. “I mean, I’ve traveled, obviously, but it’s always been with my parents.” The weight of her thoughts seemed to melt away with Betty’s answering smile. They didn’t seem so different, now.“Would you want to maybe, watch something? I have Netflix…”Veronica hopped onto Betty’s bed. She didn’t think she’d be falling asleep soon anyway, so a little mindless television would be just the thing to distract her until she could settle down into unconscious bliss. Betty placed her laptop between them and let Veronica choose an old Gossip Girl episode from her favorites. They had to sit closely to both see the screen, but neither girl really minded. The physical contact helped keep the loneliness and unfamiliarity of the situation at bay.Two episodes in, Betty was fast asleep on Veronica’s shoulder, snoring slightly, but the brunette didn’t want to move her. It seemed like so much effort, and she was really comfortable. And...if she was being honest...the thought of moving to her own bed wasn’t very pleasant. Lying here with Netflix running in the background, bathed in the soft glow like a nightlight, it almost seemed like a sleepover. Something fun, something she knew . So when Betty mumbled a little in her sleep and snuggled closer, Veronica hit play on the next episode and let her eyes slip closed. It wasn’t her alarm that woke her up in the morning, which is why it took Veronica a few minutes to figure out what the hell was going on. Eyes still shut tight, she took a quick mental inventory of her surroundings. Item one - the cheerful little brrring brrring was apparently Betty’s phone going off, and she wondered if the girl had searched out that particular tone or if the phone just came pre-programmed with ‘cheerful morning-people’ alarms. Item two - and she stuck her arm out just for confirmation - she was now alone on Betty’s bed. Concerning, but not quite, well, alarming yet. She opened one eye and began pushing herself off the bed, hoping she didn’t look too much like a horror show.Betty was sitting at one of the desks, writing in what looked suspiciously like a diary. Honestly, who did that anymore?“Mmmm. What time is it?”Betty jumped a little bit, quickly closing the dairy but clearly trying to be casual about it. It made Veronica smile a little. Subterfuge was not her strong suit, but it was cute anyway (and when would she stop finding everything this girl did cute as hell?)“Almost seven,” she answered.“Ugh. Okay. Shower first, then breakfast. You in?” Veronica pushed herself off the bed and began gathering her clothes and toiletries.“Sure.” Betty flashed a smile. “See you there.” But Veronica was already out the door.Left alone, Betty flipped her diary open to the page she’d been writing on Dear Diary, First day at the writing seminar, and it’s already been...interesting. Where to start? The campus is huge; it seems like it takes up the whole town! I know Lawrence, Kansas isn’t the most metropolitan town, but so far I like it a lot. It’s a little like being home. We’re all in one dorm, one floor for the girls and one for the boys. I’ve already met a couple of people, Brigitte and Casper. Brigitte’s from Centerville, a musician, and she’s trying to improve her songwriting. Casper’s from New York, but was born in Centerville, too. I’m not sure why he’s here, though. He seems more like the Ray Bradbury type than Toni Morrison. Still, it’s nice to have friends already. They’re sarcastic but funny, and really seem to care about each other. All we need is a diner and it’s like I never left Riverdale. Which brings me to my roommate, I guess. Veronica Lodge. Casper talks about her like she’s hell on heels but she’s been really nice to me, if a little weird. It’s like a reverse Wizard of Oz; this fashionable tornado of a person blows through Kansas from another world and changes everything forever. Ha, maybe I’ll use that for a short story sometime. But for a New York City society belle she’s been surprisingly sweet. It was a good reminder that even though we’re from different places, we’re still just teenagers, away from home for the first time. Casper’s probably just getting bad information; you know how rumors are. Everything gets blown out of proportion. I’m not going to be prejudiced just because she has a reputation. Casper said she’s bi, too, she wrote, then quickly struck out. She didn’t want to feel homophobic, even in her diary. It didn’t actually matter if Veronica liked girls or boys or no one at all. It wasn't important, and she refused to make it important.She closed her diary resolutely, stuffing it inside the desk drawer. She’d have to hurry, if she wanted to get breakfast before the first workshop started, but she still paused for a minute, taking a breath. She allowed herself to feel the anticipation of the next few weeks like electricity in the air, sparking over her skin. It felt like...the future she’d been dreaming of since she’d started feeling bonds of her parent’s control tight around her was finally within reach. In this new place, she was a new Betty Cooper, who made new friends who hadn’t known her since she was in diapers, who liked her for who she was now . A Betty Cooper who was finally figuring out what mattered to her. A Betty Cooper who could keep pace with her rich, glamorous roommate.It felt like freedom, and it was intoxicating. Veronica looked for all the world like she’d been dropped out of a Parisian street cafe. Somehow, she’d found time to find the Starbucks on campus - Riverdale still didn’t have one, and even if they had, Betty preferred milkshakes to coffee anyway - and she was sipping from a cup as she scrolled through her phone, a plate of fruit and a small muffin half-eaten on the table in front of her. In sneakers and a button-up shirt, Betty felt very under dressed in comparison to the other girl’s all-black ensemble and pearls. But Veronica brightened when she saw her and pushed the cup into her hands.“You have to try this. Sun-dried Ethiopian Shakiso. The Starbucks here has a Clover; thank God for small favors.”Betty wasn’t sure what made sun-drying better than the regular kind, but dutifully took a sip, almost burning her tongue in the process. It tasted like...coffee. Better than what her parents drank, but still bitter and black.“Good, right? The floral and fruits really come through.”“Uhm, yeah.” Betty took a sip, hoping she’d magically acquired an appreciation for fancy bean water upon hearing what she was supposed to be tasting. Nope. Still the same, only with added notes of embarrassment and the lingering aroma of unsophistication. “It’s really good, Ronnie.”This prompted a satisfied smile from Veronica, clearly glad to have shared this experience with the blonde, even more so since Betty agreed with her. She checked her phone and quickly started to get up.“Better get moving, chica. First workshop in fifteen. I’ll meet you there? I left my stuff in the room.” Veronica winked at her, then was gone in a swirl of perfume, heels fading behind Betty as she hurried to the breakfast buffet, grabbing a bagel and some napkins, almost dropping both when someone fell into step beside her.“Glad to see you survived the night.” Casper said.Betty rolled her eyes. “Sorry to disappoint, but Veronica and I fell asleep watching Gossip Girl, not having topless pillow fights or drinking blood or whatever it is you think girls do.”“Hey, I’ve seen movies; I was expecting illegal substances and incriminating selfies.”“Idiot.”“But seriously. Everything was ok?”“Seriously. It was fine. Veronica was fine. No lingering mental scars for anyone” She laughed. “We should all hang out; you’ll see, she’s just as normal as you are. Maybe more.”“A ringing endorsement.” He still didn’t seem pleased, but dropped the subject, offering increasingly outlandish ideas for their first writing workshop instead. Somewhere in the middle of radioactive zombie bites conferring superpowers on unsuspecting teenagers, they walked into the lecture hall. Veronica was sitting near the front - also Betty’s preferred classroom spot - bag in the seat next to her and imperiously glaring at anyone who came too close.“Brigitte’s got us seats, if you want?” He trailed off, clearly expecting her to say she was sitting with Veronica. Honestly, she hadn’t really thought about it yet, and had no idea if Veronica even wanted to sit with her. After all, they barely knew each other, and Veronica had specifically come here with her own group of friends. They were living together; Betty didn’t want to presume that Veronica wanted to hang out with her uninvited, when they would by necessity be spending so much time with each other. Better not to impose, than make a nuisance of herself; she could almost feel her mothers admonitions to be polite ringing in her ears.“Yeah, sounds good.” She smiled at Casper, following him up the stairs to where Brigitte was closely guarding a couple of seats in the back. Almost as soon as they sat down, the professor entered the room and Betty hurried to get her laptop out of her bag, excitement rising in her throat at the first official moments of the seminar. To Betty’s great disappointment, the first workshop was devoted almost entirely to laying out the summer curriculum, ‘get to know you’ exercises where every one of the thirty-odd students had to stand up and say something about themselves, and an overview of Toni Morrison’s life and best-known works. For Veronica, however, this was the best possible scenario, since she had spent a large majority of the time resisting the urge to glare at the trio behind her and plotting various complicated revenge fantasies against the fair-haired boy who had come between her and Betty. She could feel Sabrina’s eyes on her, as well, could almost hear the laughter from her when the workshop had begun and the seat she had specifically saved for Betty remained empty. It hurt, feeling like the second choice, a very uncommon feeling for Veronica Lodge. She hated it.Veronica took her time packing up after the workshop was over, watching from the corner of her eye as Brigitte and Betty walked out of the room, talking animatedly. She quickly stepped in front of Casper before he could follow them.“I want a word, McFadden.”He rolled his eyes. “Not today, Satan.”She grabbed his collar. “I’m not kidding. I want to know what you’ve been telling Betty about me.”“Don’t worry, you have her totally fooled with the ‘misunderstood heroine’ act. She hasn’t even been paying attention to my sage advice.”“I’m not trying to ruin her life, honestly, who do you think I am? We’ll have a little fun and then I’ll go back to New York and she’ll go back to River City and she’ll have an exciting story to tell her friends over milkshakes. No harm, no foul.”“So you are trying to get in her pants.” He smirked and she cursed herself for tipping her hand to this idiot.“I’m trying to tell you to stay out of it if you know what’s good for you.”“You can’t do anything to me.”“To you? Maybe not. But I can and will make life a living hell for Wendy if I have to. It’s up to you McFadden. All you have to do is stop spreading rumors about things you don’t know anything about anyway.”“You’re a real bitch, you know that?”“Bitches get shit done.”“Fine. I’m sure you’ll find a way to fuck this all up on your own. Betty’s not like you.”“What’s that supposed to mean?”“Betty’s pure. Innocent. She actually cares about people and small animals and apple pie and all of that bullshit. She actually believes in it.”“What is it with you and thinking I’m a bad tv villain? I care about people. Not you, obviously, but people worth caring about. And who doesn’t like puppies? I just know what I want and I’m not afraid to go after it. That doesn’t make me a monster , it makes me honest.”“Whatever helps you sleep at night. Am I dismissed, your highness?”“Go to hell.” She growled, pushing past him and into the hall. Casper seemed to deflate as soon as she left, all fight leaving him and being replaced by a gnawing worry deep in his belly for his new friend. He sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was time for a little damage control. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Veronica did not sit with Betty at lunch. She sat with her friends instead, enduring Sabrina’s pointed barbs and Sis’s half-hearted attempts at actual conversation. For the one, her attention wasn’t really needed; Sabrina was going to say what she said, and would probably feel better at the lack of a response than if Veronica brought her full cattiness to bear on the situation. And for the other, well, suffice it to say that she simply didn’t feel inclined to engage in meaningless gossip at the moment. Not when the alternative was staring moodily into her glass of water and sneaking glances across the dining hall that stretched on perhaps a bit too long to be truly deemed subtle. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Veronica told herself, but her pride was stung, an injury she took neither often nor well. Betty did not sit with her in one class; she could overlook that. From what she knew of Betty so far she was a genuinely nice, friendly person who would go along with the group rather than stand out too much. But then she had had to intervene by putting Casper in his place, a move that made her stomach crawl with anxiety. It had felt good at the time, an exchange she participated often in in New York; lay down the law, bare a little tooth - it let each person know exactly where they stood and with whom. There were rules to these sorts of things. But now she was unsure. Casper McFadden wasn’t a true New Yorker. He could be unpredictable, and he had shown a worrying affinity towards Betty. Who knew what kind of lies he might be making up about her right now, while she sat over here brooding, unable to refute them? Their interaction had left her unsettled. When she had first met Betty, first decided on this glorious summer romance, she’d taken it for granted that their worlds would never connect. That she and Betty would be the only two points of contact for their respective lives, bonded by the summer Veronica had foolishly been planning out for them in her fantasies. They had met, would flirt and kiss and play, then withdraw like waves from the shore, never to be present again the way they had in this time and place. It was beautiful. It was all in her head. Casper had ruined that, blown up the carefully constructed walls of her imaginings, left her mourning the summer she should have had. It had belonged to her, like a piece of art or a dress, and she didn't share well with others. To add to the insult, Betty hadn’t so much as glanced her way in any of the other classes. Of course, Veronica hadn’t repeated the mistake of saving a seat for her. She’d sat alone in the second period, just for appearances, then with Sabrina and Sis in the third, just before lunch. Even with plenty of time in between the lectures, Betty still hadn’t said anything to Veronica! Of course, Veronica hadn’t gone out of her way to say anything to Betty, either, but this turnabout didn’t occur to her. She was used to being pursued, or at least to engaging with people who were equally interested in her - and, it must be admitted, very like herself, used to getting what they wanted and unafraid to show it. “Oh for fuck’s sake, if you’re going to be this useless all day just go over there and talk to her.” Sabrina’s voice broke her out of her self-pity, but Veronica hardly appreciated that, growling a little and glowering over her cup. “What?” Sis nodded, clearly agreeing with Sabrina. “You’ve been staring at her table for, like five minutes. It’s honestly a little depressing.” “You look like someone set fire to your closet.” “Thank you both for all your love and support through this trying time.” Veronica huffed, flipping her hair. “It was a minor setback, that’s all.” “Hey, if she wants to hang out with two Glee rejects instead of you, I’m totally fine with it. Confused by your questionable taste in women, but fine with it. It gives me more time to plan what you’ll be buying for my fall wardrobe.” “As if. There’s no way that’s ever going to happen. We Lodges don’t know the meaning of defeat.” “I’ll add a dictionary to my list then.” “Bitch.” Sabrina smiled predatorily. “Not really. I’m such a good friend I’m motivating you to get off your fantastic ass and go talk to the girl you’re obsessed with before that second-rate John Green makes her the focus of his sexual awakening story.” Melissa nodded. “And when she shoots you down we’ll help you through the difficult process of healing by spending a lot of money on clothes, parties, and really hot models.” “ My money.” Veronica grumbled, but took her support where she could get it. She was tired of fighting them on the subject anyway, and hadn’t quite reached the point where she wanted to talk to Betty with other people around. So she turned the conversation to what they’d covered in the first half-day, and the relative hotness/fashion choices of the professors. It was familiar territory, and thankfully Sabrina and Melissa went with her on it, recognizing her need to distance herself for a little bit from thoughts about Betty. It might have been frivolous conversation; at times, it was also mean and petty. But at the end of lunch Veronica felt renewed. She was Veronica Lodge ; one of the chosen few, special, privileged. If she wanted someone, she would get her, and hang the rest of the world - or, if not quite the world, at least a certain blonde boy who had made her feel a moment of misplaced insecurity. The last class of the day was also the only one in which they got any real work done. It was a creative writing course designed specifically for this six-week program, based around taking the works they were studying in other classes and using them to improve their own writing. “Writing is not for the meek or thin-skinned.” The professor had started off with, picking students at random in the crowd and fixing them with an imperious glare. “You have to be prepared for rejection at every turn. You have all taken biology by now, yes? Think of those frogs you dissected; that’s what it feels like every time you submit something to an editor.” Some students were in fact looking a little green, but Veronica ignored it. She was familiar with this teaching method - scare the hell out of the unworthy - and she was confident in the knowledge that it did not apply to her. “You will prepare for this by submitting all of your writing assignments this summer for peer review and commentary. Each weekly assignment will be read aloud in front of the class. You will also be paired with your roommates on a final essay which will be due at the end of the summer. I expect - “ she paused and scanned the crowd “-I expect that you will apply all the lessons learned during the weeks ahead in crafting a truly exceptional final assignment. For this week, I want you to choose a moment from your favorite novel. How would the scene have changed if the main character had picked a different course of action? Re-write the scene to reflect your change, paying close attention to characterization and tone.” Another pause. “You may be dismissed to begin working on it.” Thirty backpacks opened noisily as students began stuffing laptops and notebooks into them, shoes and chairs squeaking against the laminate floor. “Email me with any questions you have and be prepared with your chosen scene tomorrow.” Veronica met Betty at her chair, ignoring Casper, who seemed annoyed, and Brigitte, who didn’t seem to notice. “Hey B.” Betty smiled. “Veronica, hey. This is Brigitte Reilly, and I think you know Casper?” Betty cursed herself a little. The introductions sounded so stilted, but what else was she going to do? When in an unfamiliar situation, she fell back on her mother’s training, which called for polite introductions all around, but right now she wished she could have thought of anything else to say. Well, maybe not anything, but something much cooler. “Of course. Nice to see you, Casper. And to meet you too Brigitte.” Veronica, taken aback, felt just as awkward as Betty. Fortunately Brigitte seemed to have a firm grasp on the situation, and dragged Casper off with a murmured “Hey” to Veronica. Casper had told her everything, and she had a pretty fair idea that no good would come of sticking around those two until both Casper and, probably, Veronica had settled down from their little spat earlier. “So.” Betty felt a bit exposed without Brigitte and Casper there, and laughed at herself a little. She and Veronica had fallen asleep in the same bed last night, there was really nothing to so worried about. “We should work on the assignment?” “Yeah. Do you want to go back to the room or-?” ‘Get it together, Lodge.’ This had been so much easier in the middle of the night. “Why don’t we walk around a bit and find somewhere outside? It’s a beautiful day.” “Sounds great.” They strolled out of the building and wandered around the campus. Betty hadn’t overstated the weather; it was a beautiful day, bright and sunny but not too hot, with a warm, gentle breeze floating through the passageways between buildings. Insects droned in the background, accompanied every so often by music from passing cars or dorm rooms. It made Betty feel light and calm. Any day like this at home would have found her curled up taking a nap by the river, or helping Archie with his car, listening to old rock ‘n’ roll and smudging each other with grease. She wondered what kind of music Veronica liked, if she’d ever danced to Johnny B. Goode barefoot or used a socket wrench as a drumstick. Probably not, she smiled to herself. “Is here good?” A hand on her arm shook Betty from her thoughts. Below them on the path was some kind of garden, rows upon rows of flowers abutting a carefully manicured piece of green lawn, all leading down to a small pond where Betty could just make out the lazily drifting shapes of koi. “Perfect.” Without removing her hand, Veronica led them to a spot near the pond where some low benches allowed them to sit without getting their clothes dirty. Betty started pulling out her notebook, to Veronica’s bemused look and an arched brow. “What?” “You don’t use a laptop?” Betty blushed. “Studies show that you’re more likely to remember something if you write it down instead of using a laptop or a tablet. Besides-” She ran her fingers gently over an empty page “-there’s something nice about opening a new notebook, like this. All those empty pages waiting to be filled. It just makes everything seem so much more...real.” Veronica’s gaze softened. She’d never met someone like Betty before. Someone who wore her heart on her sleeve, who wrote in a diary and imagined endless pages stretched out before her, a life just waiting to be filled with words. It seemed so simple - she seemed so simple - but each new detail revealed to Veronica made her eager for more. However, she thought, flipping open her laptop, she herself would be sticking to modern technology for now. “So what’s your favorite book?” Betty asked, writing ‘Assignment Number 1’ in precise cursive at the top of the page. “ Breakfast at Tiffany’s ,” Betty laughed. “What?” “Nothing, I just-” She gestured to Veronica’s simple black dress and overlarge sunglasses. “It makes sense. I mean. I’ve never read it, but I’ve seen the movie.” “The movie is great, don’t get me wrong. Audrey Hepburn is a total icon. But the book is better. More ‘real’.” She smiled, repeating Betty’s tone. “Honestly I have no idea how I can pick something from Capote and change it. That’s, like, sacrilege or something. What about you?” “Oh. Beloved , of course.” Veronica wrinkled her nose. “Really?” “It’s literally called the ‘Toni Morrison Summer Writing Seminar.’ I’m not here to learn how to write like James Joyce.” She laughed. “It was the first book of hers I read, last year. The way she uses words, the drive of the narrative...it’s incredible. If I had even half that talent-” “You’d have won the Pulitzer twice over by now.” Veronica muttered. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Veronica hesitated. “Do you - It’s a story of the impact of slavery on African Americans and the mental toll that dehumanization takes on multiple generations. Do you think that’s the kind of thing you can honestly change the narrative of?” “Truman Capote wasn’t a teenage girl, either, but you’re okay with that.” Betty was being defensive, she was smart enough to recognize that, but she just didn’t understand where this line of questioning had come from. Beloved had changed the way she saw language, had opened up literature as a means of communication she’d never had before, and she felt like Veronica was challenging her right to that experience. “The heart of literature is shared humanity.” “Right, but the body of this literature is creating space for minority voices. You can’t just push yourself into that.” “I’m not pushing myself into anything. It’s just a stupid assignment.” “If it’s so stupid pick something else.” “No.” Betty shoved her notebook back in her bag, swinging it wildly over her shoulder as she stood. “It’s my favorite book. I’m not going to let you make me ashamed of that.” “Betty, wait.” The blonde’s long legs were quickly taking her away from the bench, but Veronica stayed put. Lodges did not chase after anyone. “Betty!” Calling, however, was apparently within the bounds of respectability. “Dammit.” Veronica cursed, mad at herself; mad at Betty. She should have just left it alone. What did she care if Betty wanted to appropriate Toni Morrison for a stupid class? It’s not like it was some kind of world-shattering event. The thing was...she actually liked Betty. More than just physical attraction, she liked talking to the other girl. Compared to the cynical self-centeredness of most of the people she knew back home, Betty was easy and kind, but with a deceptive wit and intelligence. She’d wanted to engage with that mind, and what had that gotten her? A pissed off roommate and a headache. Always being right was such a curse. By the time Veronica made it back to the room the day had faded into a deep twilight, the seeds of dew heavy in the air and clinging to her skin. She had anticipated meeting Betty there. They would talk it out, she would make Betty see reason, and they would finish the episode of Gossip Girl they’d missed last night. There was no tell-tale light under the door when Veronica walked up. No scratch of pen on paper or tapping of keys. No Betty. Sighing, Veronica flipped on the light and dropped her bag unceremoniously on the floor. She’d wandered into a study room, she honestly couldn’t recall where, and made a half-hearted attempt at the assignment. It would have to do, because there was no way she was going to give it any more thought tonight. What she really wanted was a drink, but she’d have to settle for trash tv. It was early to go to bed, but if that made her boring, so what. She was exhausted. Netflix was asking her if she was still there, and Veronica was seriously considering the philosophical ramifications of that question, when the door cracked open and Betty stepped in. She wasn’t sneaking, exactly, but she didn’t seem to want to interact with Veronica, either, so with a little sigh Veronica snuggled into her pillow, deciding that pretending to be dead to the world was the course of action called for here. In the morning, they could deal with it, whatever ‘it’ turned out to be. In the morning, things would make sense. But when morning came, Veronica was alone once again. The other girl apparently had an annoying habit of rising with the sun, which was honestly unfair and an insult to Veronica’s delicate sensibilities. It also meant that Betty was probably not over whatever state she’d worked herself into last night, and Veronica would either have to seek her out or be patient and let Betty come to her, two things which she very much did not want to do. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but dressed and went to get breakfast anyway, avoiding the crowds and eating outside. She didn’t see Betty at breakfast, either, although she wasn’t trying very hard. It was nice to have a moment to herself, to regroup and prepare for the day. She walked to class, sitting in the same seat as before and scrolling idly down facebook as students trickled in. Still no Betty. She was almost getting desperate enough to send a text when a shadow fell over the desk. “You were right.” Betty slid into the seat next to Veronica. “Of course I was.” The reply was sharp, but Betty was relieved that at least Veronica was looking at her now, and had angled her body towards her. She was surprised at how much she’d missed this intimacy between them; they’d only known each other a few days. “What made you change your mind?” “I went to the library, after we fought. I couldn’t wait to get started. But then I sat down, and….nothing. I couldn’t do it. It’s not my story to tell.” “Toni Morrison is a goddess and perfectly capable of telling her own story. That doesn’t mean you can’t learn from her. Just learn how to tell your story.” She was smiling now, and it swept Betty along with her. “The Betty Cooper story.” “I don’t think it would be very exciting.” “That’s just ‘cause you hadn’t met me yet.” Veronica winked. “What did you pick instead?” “ Absalom, Absalom. ” “Faulkner. Interesting.” One brow arched, and a smirk barely lifted Veronica’s lips. “I like Dark Betty.” “Oh my God, stop.” Betty shoved Veronica’s arm off the desk, but she was laughing, too. She hadn’t realized how much this disagreement with Veronica had affected her, nor how much she apparently craved the other girls’ approval. She was glad it was all over and they were back to normal now. “So Brigitte and Casper want to go see Suicide Squad on Friday, would you like to come along?” “Of course, absolutely. What could possibly be more exciting than a topless Jared Leto with fake tattoos?” “Well, we’re going late so they probably won’t kick us out if we talk the whole time and throw popcorn at the screen.” “Why Betty Cooper. Faulkner and being a delinquent at a movie. Whatever shall we do with you?” She looked at Betty like she had a few definite ideas in that direction, and Betty blushed without really knowing why. Luckily, the professor walked in, saving Betty from further embarrassment. So will you go? She scribbled in the margin of her notebook, angling it so Veronica could see. She could feel the other girl shaking her head, but Veronica simply took the pen from Betty’s hand, scrawling her reply in big, loopy letters. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Over the next several days, Betty and Veronica fell into a rhythm. The first two days had been filled with enough drama that both wanted to relax a little, settling into both their new friendship and the schedule of workshops. Sometimes they sat with each other, sometimes with their friends. They dined the same way, trying to carve out time for both parts of their lives. But the evenings, the evenings were reserved for the two of them alone. They always started with high expectations, reading or writing diligently. But inevitably one or the other would laugh or make a silly comment and the serious atmosphere would be completely broken. For Betty, it was an incredible week. She missed home, of course she did, she missed her family and friends - she definitely missed Archie, she thought, enjoying the familiar flutter in her stomach when she thought of her skinny, ginger-haired best friend. But somehow all that seemed so far away when she and Veronica were rolling around on Veronica’s bed, laughing at cat videos on youtube or chatting about the day's’ lectures. It was really nice to be around someone who appreciated the written word as much as she did. She loved Archie to death, she really did, but he’d never cared much for reading. She’d almost come to expect the glazed-over look Archie got whenever she started talking about books from everyone else, too. But Veronica’s dark eyes were always bright and interested whenever she commented on a passage or spoke up in class. Veronica, with her quick wit and precise remarks. Veronica, who softened the biting (but funny) criticism she reserved for their classmates into gentle suggestions on Betty’s drafts. Veronica, who- “We get it. She’s the bee’s knees, the cat’s pajamas, the best thing since sliced bread and fried oreos.” Betty may have been the tiniest bit effusive in her praise for her roommate. Casper looked grumpy, or slightly constipated, but then he always did these days and he absolutely refused to talk about it. Betty suspected that Brigitte knew what was going on, but she also avoided the subject when Betty was around. It hurt a little, knowing her new friends were keeping something from her, but she didn’t resent them. They’d known each other a lot longer than they’d known her, after all. “What are we talking about?” Veronica fell into step with them, looping her arm through Betty’s. It was a beautiful night, so they’d decided to walk to the movie theater and take an Uber back later. Betty had suggested taking the bus, but the idea had been quickly quashed by the two scandalized New Yorkers, who seemed to think that any public transportation outside the City was a disaster movie waiting to happen. “Nothing.” Casper replied, shaking his head. Betty was grateful; she wasn’t sure she actually wanted Veronica to hear all the acclaim she’d been heaping on her. “That’s boring.” Scoffed Veronica, then launched into a discussion of the use of color in two of the pieces they’d been reading that week that nearly caused Betty’s jaw to drop. Veronica was so cool . By the time they reached the ticket booth, though, Betty was beginning to re-think her previous statement. She hadn’t spent much time around both Veronica and Casper yet, and it was becoming apparent that they couldn’t stand each other. Betty had hoped that hanging out together would get them to see that they weren’t really that different, but all that had happened so far was a series of debates on every book Betty had ever read, and some she hadn’t even heard of. Whatever they were trying to prove, the other would take the opposite side, in some very nerdy game of one-upmanship. Even Brigitte, as calm and collected a person as Betty had ever met, was starting to get tired of it. Through mutual understanding, Brigitte and Betty quickly separated Casper and Veronica on opposite sides of them, coordinating popcorn and soda choices so Betty and Veronica were sharing one bag and Brigitte and Casper the other, the better to keep the peace. It worked, too. Veronica was sufficiently distracted by Betty and the movie to stop bothering Casper, although she did seem to keep looking his way out of the corner of her eye. Sometimes Betty would catch her, but Veronica would quickly turn back to the screen or make some snarky comment. It was hard for Betty to worry about it too much, both because she was having a lot of fun being at the movies with her new friends and because she was having a hard time getting used to having a friend who touched her so often. Veronica was just a very tactile person. Betty had come to realize this, gradually, over the course of their week-long friendship. She grabbed Betty’s hand, or arm, or snuggled up to her watching Netflix, or rolled around with her on the bed. She blamed the lack of physical affection in her family for the way it always seemed so intense whenever Veronica was near her. It was just that she wasn’t used to it, the way her attention seemed to focus on whatever part of their bodies happened to be touching. It made Betty feel a little silly, this childish fixation on someone else's body. She told herself it was something she’d get over, and soon she’d be as comfortable with it as Veronica seemed to be. But here, in a dark theater, with their fingers meeting in between kernels of popcorn, Veronica’s hand flitting to her arm or thigh, it made Betty feel awkward, her reactions slow and heavy. About the fourth or fifth time Betty mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ as they reached for popcorn at the same time, Veronica had shushed her with a tight smile and one finger on Betty’s mouth. She licked her lips reflexively, tasting oil and salt. By the end of the movie Betty was feeling almost angry with herself, restless and tight in her own skin. It would be too late to go for a jog, too bad, but she had so much nervous energy she could hardly sit still. Needing to pee since halfway through probably didn’t help, she realized as she stood up. “Meet you in the lobby.” “You okay?” Veronica caught her wrist, looking up at her with concern in her eyes, and Betty felt a paradoxical urge to run away. “Yeah.” She smiled sheepishly instead. “Gotta use the restroom.” Veronica allowed herself a self-satisfied smirk as she watched Betty disappear down the stairs. She could tell the other girl was nervous and jumpy, and hoped it had something to do with her. She’d been playing up the touches for all they were worth. Honestly, did Veronica Lodge look like the kind of girl who ate that much movie-theater popcorn? Hardly. But a little sacrifice was worth it for the look on Betty’s face when she’d pressed her finger to her lips. The poor girl looked like she’d swallowed her tongue. “Proud of yourself, Ronnie?” Casper had pressed close to her in the crowd of people waiting to file down the steps and out of the theater. “You drove Betty off in a panic.” “Shut up.” It was the best she could come back with without moving her mouth too much. She could feel Brigitte watching them, but they’d gotten separated by a family and she was still a few rows back. “I know you told me to back off and I will, but Betty doesn’t deserve whatever game you’re playing with her. She’s better than that.” Veronica’s stomach twisted angrily and she regretted every single piece oily, fatty, buttery popcorn she’d ever eaten. Her body was betraying her, going against orders to make her feel flushed and nauseated. “I can’t wait until the moment she sees right through you. You can’t keep this up forever, you know. Eventually she’s going to find out what a bitch you are.” Through the doors, the lobby up ahead. She couldn’t breathe. “It’s who you are. You take and take and you don’t care who you step on, as long as you have fun. But Betty’s smart. I don’t need to tell her anything. It’s only a matter of time until you fuck it all up yourself. I only hope I’m there to -” It happened in slow motion. Through waves of air and light, she saw the bag. Big, black, plastic, like the ones people used to collect leaves in their yards. Filled with popcorn instead. An idea, in and out of her mind so quickly that she barely had a grasp on it before her body was reacting. Step, pivot, slide. A high yelp of surprise. A boy pitching head-first into the bag. The syrupy-sweet feel of success, a familiar drug. “Veronica!” Time seemed to slam into her in its hurry to speed up again. She turned, the high of victory draining out of her at the sight of Betty’s face, shadowed with anger and disappointment. “What is wrong with you?” Betty pushed past her, helping Casper to his feet. Veronica thought she could see him grinning. “I didn’t - it was an accident!” She could fix this. Brigitte had caught up to them now, brushing popcorn out of Casper’s hair and glaring at the both of them. Betty didn’t even seem to notice her, storming outside with Veronica chasing close on her heels. “Veronica. I saw you trip him. I know you two didn’t like each other but how could you possibly think that was okay? You could have hurt him!” “You don’t know what he said to me.” “Please, tell me. What could he have said that would make you think that physical violence was justified?” “I…” She trailed off. Betty was...crying… “He warned me. He told me you were like this, but I refused to believe him because you were so nice to me. Why? How can you be such a good friend to me and be so cruel to someone I care about?” Betty thought she was a good friend? Betty thought she was...cruel? “Betty, look, he had it coming. He’s an asshole! He’s hated me since we met, he’s just looking for an excuse to get me to leave.” But Betty was shaking her head. “If that’s how you treat people, just because you don’t get along with them...I thought you were better than that…” “Betty…” “I’m going to go back to see if Casper’s okay.” Her voice was tired, resigned, and that scared Veronica more than the anger had. “I just can’t...be around you right now.” Veronica counted to ten in her head after Betty disappeared, found a convenient bush behind the theater, and violently threw up. The burn felt good, normalizing. “Ronnie! How’s your ‘date’, babe?” Sabrina’s voice was grating in her ear as she rummaged through her purse for a mint. “You and Sis brought your fakes, right?” “Of course, but-” “Then why are we wasting a perfectly good Friday night? Find us some boys and a club. I need to get fractured .” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The club, and the boys, had been easy to find. Compared to New York, they weren’t good, but Veronica didn’t need good. She just needed available. She needed a DJ who could drop a decent beat (he couldn’t, not really, but a continuous loop of top 40 songs wasn’t too hard to fuck up) and for everyone to back the fuck off and let her dance. It wasn’t too much to ask, was it? She thought as she pushed away yet another large hand trying to circle her waist. Just a simple night out and someone vaguely attractive to bring her illegal drinks every once in awhile? She supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers. The boys were nice to look at, after all. Where Sabby had picked them up she didn’t know, but between songs she’d gathered that they were college students, fraternity pledges still in town for summer classes. She hadn’t talked to them much beyond that. They had names, probably, but she didn’t care to remember them. They were serving their purpose, and that was what mattered. Only... Veronica took a break from dancing to slide rather ungracefully into a booth. Her sweaty skin stuck to the cheap vinyl backing, and she could still feel the pounding bass like an undercurrent in her own pulse. She caught the eye of one of the boys and held up her hand, miming a drink. Luckily, he got the hint. She didn’t regard his intelligence too highly, but she appreciated how he simply nodded and headed for the bar. He was probably a decent guy when she wasn’t feeling like such a bitch. She opened her purse and pulled out her phone, more from habit than anything else, and was surprised to see three missed calls, one voicemail, and two texts. All from Betty. She didn’t intend on calling or listening or replying or engaging in any way, but she couldn’t help but read the texts when they were right there on her lock screen. Betty: Where did you go? Betty: Be safe. God fucking dammit. Why couldn’t the girl just leave her alone. That’s what she’d said, right? ‘I can’t be around you right now.’ Veronica could still see the cold and closed expression on Betty’s face as she’d spat the words at her. Like she was worthless. Like she, Veronica Lodge, wasn’t as good as some dumb blonde from some dumb small town in the middle of- fUCK Her face fell into her hands. She couldn’t do it. She wanted to feel that righteous anger, to let go of whatever hold Betty had on her, but she couldn’t. Because Betty wasn’t dumb, Betty was worried about her. Betty sent texts to check up on her roommate even though she was mad at her. She could feel anger at Casper, for provoking her and being an overall dick, could hate him a little for how he’d been able to get under her skin so quickly. She could even hate herself, a little bit, for letting him. But she couldn’t hate Betty. It was like some sort of strange superpower that made her unhateable. Being angry at her would have been like kicking a puppy. No matter her faults, Veronica just didn’t have it in her. It was a strange thing to have to accept about herself. She wasn’t sure she was even ready to, yet. ‘Went out drinking with Sabby. Back later.’ She knew Betty wouldn’t be happy about the insinuation that she was drinking because of their fight, but she was four drinks in and she wasn’t happy about it either. She sent the message before she could second-guess anything. Luckily, the boy had returned with her drink. Veronica didn’t need to know what was in it; she threw it back easily, throat moving around the stinging liquid. Vodka of some sort, cheap in a way she wasn’t used to. It seemed fitting. She wasn’t nearly drunk enough, although not for lack of trying. It was just that the boys seemed to think they could stay and talk with her after each drink they brought, or tried to drag her out on the dance floor. This had been a mistake. She thought it would help, a night clubbing with her friends, alcohol and music and pretty people. It always had before. But doing what she had always done, here, only invited the comparison to her nights in New York, and the college town couldn’t hope to measure up. It just left her homesick instead. She fought her way over to Sabby, who was grinding on the dance floor with a muscular blonde. “This is boring. I’m going home.” She yelled in her ear. Even in the dim light of the club she could make out Sabrina’s rolling eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you V? You drag us out on a Friday night to a club in a city where walking in a circle is considered a dance, and now you want to blow us off? I had a date!” “You did? What about Harvey?” “He’s not here, is he? And he hasn’t even called me all week.” She shrugged, hand running back up the boys arm. Veronica thought she might hate Sabrina a little bit, too. “I’m getting an Uber back. Tell Sis I’m leaving.” “Whatever.” Sabrina was already turning back around. The night had cooled considerably when she stepped outside, and she’d wished she’d brought a jacket. No way she was going back inside, though. There was no reason to ruin a good storm out. She’d keep the bouncer company instead. Or maybe…? She eyed a group of guys smoking cigarettes and talking softly on the street corner, but quickly dismissed the idea of bumming a smoke. Guys who looked like that hit on girls who looked like her, or expected more for their money. She just didn’t have the energy to deal with them right now. By the time the Uber pulled up, Veronica had decided that the bouncer had won for her favorite person at the club. After asking if she needed him to call a ride, he hadn’t said anything to her at all. The prize had been a hundred dollar bill pressed into his hand just before she disappeared into the back seat of the sleek black car. It was almost two when Veronica stumbled back into their room, barely bothering with her clothes and makeup before sinking into blissful unconsciousness. Betty never looked back after leaving Veronica outside the movie theater. After ten steps, she wanted to, desperately. After fifteen, and nearly to the door, she had slowed down considerably. She was waiting for Veronica to catch up to her, to watch her huff and roll her eyes but to see sincerity there, too, when she came back with her to apologize to Casper. She didn’t look back because she was afraid of what she wouldn’t see. By the time she’d pushed through the crowd of people leaving the theater and over to Casper and Brigitte, she’d given up on Veronica. “Are you okay?” “Sure.” Casper grinned wryly. “Popcorn is surprisingly cushiony.” Betty shook her head. She appreciated his attempts to brush off the incident with humor, but she herself wasn’t quite at that place yet. “I’m so sorry about this.” “It’s not your fault.” “You warned me, though. You told me what she could be like - what she is like. And I wouldn’t listen.” She ran a hand over her face in shame. “I thought I knew more about her in a week than you could in several years.” Brigitte tried to wrap an arm around Betty in a comforting hug, but she ducked out of it. “Hey, it’s okay. There’s probably some blame to go around on both sides, isn’t there, Cas?” She shot him a meaningful look, and he shifted on his feet nervously. “Yeah. I mean, I could have been nicer to her.” “It still doesn’t excuse what she did. And what’s worse, I don’t even think she’s sorry she did it.” “Maybe she just needs some time to come around.” Brigitte soothed, shepherding them towards the doors. She kept up a quick patter of commentary on the movie, trying to distract Betty from thoughts of her roommate. After a few minutes, Casper joined in as well. It kept the walk home from seeming too much like a funerary procession, but Betty couldn’t bring herself to join in. She felt like such an idiot, both for believing in Veronica in the first place and her actions now. Casper was the one who had been wronged, and here he was trying to cheer her up. She should just let it go, if he had. But she missed the person she thought Veronica was. How could she reconcile the girl who saved her muffins when she was too late for breakfast and wrote little notes on her papers for class with the girl who could remorselessly try to hurt one of her friends? She felt the loss keenly. “...Betty?” “Sorry?” “We’re at your room.” Brigitte still looked concerned, so Betty curved her lips in a smile and fluttered her hands vaguely. “It’ll look better in the morning, once everyone’s had a chance to sleep on it.” Brigitte promised. “Try to relax, okay?” “Yeah.” Betty replied. “I guess I’m just tired. Lunch tomorrow?” Casper nodded. “I’ll text you.” Veronica wasn’t in the room, so Betty glanced at her phone. It had been on silent because of the movie, so maybe...but no. Nothing from Veronica. Her stomach lurched a little thinking of all the things that could happen to a girl alone in an unfamiliar city, but she forced those thoughts aside. Veronica was smart. Just because she didn’t call Betty didn’t mean she hadn’t called one of her other friends. And besides, Betty told herself firmly, she was still mad at her. She made herself get changed, turn off the light, and get into bed before she called the first time. No answer. She very resolutely waited fifteen minutes before calling again, with the same result. She checked her phone to see if she had Sabrina’s or Melissa’s numbers, cursed herself for never bothering to get their contact information, and left a voicemail this time. “Veronica, where are you? I mean...I…” she hadn’t thought this through very well. “Just let me know you’re okay.” She sent two texts, just in case. Twenty minutes later her phone buzzed with Veronica’s reply. Short and totally impersonal. So Veronica was still mad at her. Fine. If she wanted to go off and get drunk and do God knows what else, that was none of Betty’s business. Veronica could just do whatever, and damn the consequences, apparently. Betty tossed and turned for an hour, trying in vain to get her brain to shut up and let her sleep. Finally she got up with a growl, stalking out the door and then back, dropping a note on Veronica’s desk. She slipped back into bed disgusted with herself, but almost instantly able to sleep. “So do you want to tell me what happened back there?” Brigitte was walking Casper back to his room. “Veronica Lodge is a bitch?” “Somehow I doubt that’s the whole story.” Casper sighed, but he’d known her long enough that she’d get it out of him one way or another. “I might have said some things about how totally unfit she was to be Betty’s friend.” The ghost of a smile appeared on Brigitte’s lips. “So someone finally got tired of you being a total ass. It was bound to happen. What’s your deal with her anyway? I know she went all first season Quinn Fabray on you, but you’ve been talking shit about her since before that.” Casper’s eyes hardened, and he pulled her into a common room. At that time of night, all the students were either asleep or still out breaking curfew. “You don’t know these people, Brig. They aren’t like us. Someone like Veronica, she’ll tear Betty apart and never even realize she’s doing it. Betty deserves better than that.” She looked at him with sudden understanding and he ducked his head, unable to meet her eyes. “Just like you did, right?” “It was what it was.” He ground out. “I got through it, but it killed a part of me. That kid from Centerville, who thought strangers were just friends you hadn’t met yet?” He laughed bitterly. “That kid’s a ghost. I don’t want that to happen to Betty.” “You should tell Betty you were provoking her, Cas. Veronica’s not them. And I think you’re giving Betty too little credit.” She smirked. “Maybe she’ll rub off on her.” Casper rolled his eyes, but was smiling as he did it. “That’s just what I’m afraid of.” When Veronica woke up in the morning - closer to lunch, really - Betty was gone, but she rolled over and noticed a glass of water and two pills on her desk. Underneath was a note, slightly damp with condensation. ‘Take this, you idiot - B’ Well, Betty probably wasn’t going to poison her, Veronica thought, chasing the pills with the water. And even if she were death would be preferable to the pounding in her head that had announced its presence as soon as she sat up. Showered and dressed, Veronica was glad Betty was gone. The thought of facing her when she’d gone off in a huff and Betty had gone out of her way to make sure she was ok - she didn’t know what she could say. Especially since she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She chose instead to hole herself up in the nearest library. When you’re too ashamed to face one set of friends and the others are still mad at you for ditching, you bury yourself in a book and hope for the best. Veronica had chosen Kurt Vonnegut’s Galapagos , in the hope that a story about stranded humans evolving into furry penguins wouldn’t remind her of any of the events that had taken place in the last twenty-four hours. “That, in my opinion, was the most diabolical aspect of those old-time big brains: They would tell their owners, in effect, ‘Here is a crazy thing we could actually do, probably, but we would never do it, of course. It’s just fun to think about.’ “And then, as though in trances, the people would actually do it.” Or maybe not. She kept reading, though, because the idea that humans a million years in the future wouldn’t get themselves in the kind of trouble she had was a comforting thought. It was warm in her little spot, curled up like a cat, and she was just dozing off when someone plucked the book out of her drooping hand. She started awake. Betty was standing in front of her, eyes unreadable. “Hey.” Veronica pulled her knees closer to her chest. The movement freed enough room on the couch for Betty to sit down. “Hey.” Betty played with the pages of the book as if she didn’t quite know what to say, which was good, because neither did Veronica. “How are you feeling?” “Better. Thanks for the medicine.” Betty nodded, but stayed silent. “I shouldn’t have left without tell you where I was going.” She tried again. “No, you shouldn’t have, but I - I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Before I knew the whole story.” She flicked her eyes to Veronica’s, then back to the book. “Casper told me he what he said to you.” “Oh.” Veronica wondered if he’d told her the whole truth, or some of it, or none of it. “I shouldn’t have -” the words stuck in her throat, but she swallowed and forced them out. “I shouldn’t have tripped him.” “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” Betty stood up, and Veronica noticed absently that she’d lost her place, an earlier page bookmarked under slender fingers. “Think about it, okay?” Betty moved her hand slightly, and Veronica wondered if she was going to touch her. The thought burned in the corners of her eyes. “Did you get lunch? And be sure to drink water.” Veronica smiled. “Thanks, WebMD.” Betty didn’t smile back, but the air between them felt lighter. Veronica felt like they could move in it, now. “I’ll see you later?” “Yeah.” Veronica’s eyes followed Betty until she disappeared between the stacks, then picked up her book and opened it to the dog-eared mark. It was the first page, a quote from Anne Frank. “ In spite of everything, I still believe people are really good at heart. ” Thirty minutes later, Veronica had gotten through about three pages. She wasn’t really surprised when she heard a throat clear and looked up to see that Casper had appeared before her. “Did Betty send you?” He shrugged ruefully. “She likes to fix things.” “She said I needed to apologize to you.” “It would be nice. If it helps I’ll go first and show you how it’s done. I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick to you.” “I’m sorry I tripped you into a giant bag of popcorn, hilarious though it may have been.” Casper barked a laugh. “Yeah, ok. I’ll take it. I told Betty I might have said some things to provoke you.” “Why would you do that?” “Because I realized I didn’t want to be like you. Are you really sorry?” Veronica considered this. She was sorry Betty was mad at her. But was she sorry that she’d tripped him in the first place? “Not really” He’d deserved it. “Then why are you apologizing?” Her eyes widened. It was obvious, of course, because Betty wanted her to. But that reason seemed incomplete somehow. “Betty told me to.” She answered. Casper smiled. “She has that effect on people.” Veronica and Casper joined Betty and Brigitte for lunch on Sunday, and Brigitte grinned up at them as they set their trays down. “Did you two kiss and make up?” They both immediately looked ill. “Please don’t say that ever again.” Casper begged. “Finally something we agree on.” Veronica added, sitting down next to Betty. “We have reached a detente.” “Thank God.” Brigitte said, stealing a french fry off of Casper’s plate. “Now we can talk about the really important stuff; do you think Prof. Strand will let me play my guitar for the next assignment?” Casper protested indignantly about the theft of his fry, threatening to break into ‘Food, Glorious Food,’ from Oliver if Brigitte kept stealing from him. Betty just smiled, happy that two of her favorite people were getting along. She placed a hand on Veronica’s thigh, leaning in so her lips just caught the edge of her ear. “I’m proud of you.” Veronica blushed. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Dear Diary I’m sorry I haven’t been writing for a few days; it’s not that I haven’t had the time. I blame Veronica. As soon as I sit down to write she always has a video to show me or some comment on a passage that just can’t wait. I haven’t had a problem finding time to write since Polly and I shared a room, but it’s kind of nice. I mean, it really feels like she values my opinion and wants to share things with me. It might just be because we share a room, but after last week we’ve become really good friends. It’s crazy, to think we’ve only know each other a week. It feels like forever! I know we’ve fought a little, but ever since the weekend Veronica’s gone out of her way to be nice. Well, out of her way in a Veronica way, I suppose, but she and Casper aren’t antagonizing each other any more at least. It’s so nice to have a friend that isn’t a boy. Archie and Juggie are great, but there are definitely some things they just don’t get. Archie isn’t really into reading, anyway, and Jughead has been so weird since school ended. I don’t think even Archie knows what’s going on. But you know about all that already. Veronica is just so- “Bettttyyy.” Betty looked up from her diary to see Veronica laying upside down on her bed, throat bare and hair falling down in waves towards the floor. It also gave Betty a worryingly unobstructed view of the other girl’s cleavage, reminding her of a time in middle school when she and her mother had been in a store trying on clothes. There had been an older girl there, a high school student, in a tank top and shorts, and she could still feel her mother’s vituperative comments on the other girl’s appearance. She blushed, wishing she could get her mother out of her head long enough to just hang out with a friend. She was sure that other people wouldn’t even notice these things, and it embarrassed her that Veronica could be so comfortable around her when she couldn’t stop noticing every time the other girl changed clothes or sat with her legs too far apart or sprawled on the bed like that. She wished she could be normal, like everyone else. “Bettttyyyyyyyy.” Veronica whined again. “What’s up?” “I’m bored.” Veronica pouted, but it lost some of its impact upside-down. “We have homework, you know.” “You’re not doing it?” “No, but you could be. If you’re so bored.” “But it’s boring too.” Veronica flipped over so she was right-side up again, wincing a little as the blood rushed away from her head. “Besides, you’re not doing the homework. What are you writing about, anyway? Boys?” She grinned. “Girls?” “No!” Betty quickly closed the diary anyway. “About you, actually.” “Why Betty. Flattery will get you everywhere.” “Not like that!” She sighed, exasperated. “Just, you know, about what we’ve been doing and class.” “Ugh. So you’re writing about reading we’ve done? That’s even more boring than actually doing the writing. I thought people were supposed to write their deepest, darkest secrets in their diaries.” “Hey!” Betty protested. “I have secrets!” “Never said you didn’t, B.” She sat up, smiling in way that made Betty swallow and feel more than a little nervous. “But now that we’re on the subject…” “I don’t think we were, actually…” “It comes to my attention that we haven’t yet had any girl talk…” “We are girls, so...” “So Betty Cooper.” Veronica prowled towards Betty, trapping her in her chair with her arms firmly on each side of the desk. “..therefore…uh….” It was very hard to keep up a conversation with Veronica’s perfume surrounding her like that “...all our talk is girl talk…” “Tell me a secret.” ‘I’m going to have a panic attack if you don’t back the heck up,’ probably wasn’t the secret Veronica was fishing for. Too bad it was the only thing Betty could think of. “I...uh...I mean.” “C’mon B. Haven’t you ever done anything bad ?” One time, in the third grade, she’d cut off Cheryl Blossom’s ponytail. When she was twelve, she and Archie had stayed out too long and she’d been grounded for two weeks. Her mother took sleeping pills and occasionally Betty looked at them too long. She had pills, too, but she didn’t take those. Almost a year ago she’d broken her mom’s favorite faux-Tiffany lamp and blamed Polly for it. There were little half-moons pressed into her palms sometimes. “W-well…” Veronica leaned back, her lips still smirking but her eyes blank. “Hey. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. No big deal.” Betty was caught in a curious mix of relief that Veronica had finally given her some space and desperation to prove that she was worthy of Veronica’s attention. “No, I mean.” She blushed and looked down. “I’m sure my life’s been pretty boring compared to yours.” “Probably.” Veronica’s eyes were smiling again. “But it doesn’t have to stay that way.” “What do you mean?” “Betty. Please. You’re hanging out with the Veronica Lodge. And as your friend and roommate I will take it upon myself to be the best bad influence you’ve ever had.” “Oh no.” Betty laughed and rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Sounds like trouble. Whatever shall I do?” “Bad things. Things where when you’re old we’ll look back on them and wonder what the hell we were thinking. Things worthy of diary entries.” “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” “As serious as Casper’s need for a new wardrobe.” “What’re you thinking?” There was only so much trouble two teenage girls could get into, after all. “Nothing too exciting...just a little midnight stroll.” “You want to break curfew?” Veronica arched a brow. “I’ve done it, like, twice in the first week. I don’t know why this surprises you” “Fine.” Betty amended. “You want me to break curfew?” “Correction. We are going to break curfew.” “I don’t think-” “Betty, darling, this is like the least exciting bad thing you can do. It is only exciting now because you will be with me and I am amazing.” “But what if we get caught?” “Then we start crying.” Betty laughed, startled. “What?” “It’s the ultimate out. No one wants to deal with a crying girl. They’ll give us some crap warning, tell us not to do it again, and send us to bed. It’s foolproof.” Veronica shrugged on a dramatic black cape - honestly, who wore something like that and could get away with it - and started tugging Betty towards the door. “So let’s go.” “Ronnie I’m not sure…” But Betty’s protests didn’t stop her from letting Veronica pull her out of the room. The truth was, she was curious. It was exciting , breaking the rules a little bit, and Veronica seemed so sure of herself. As she had said, she’d done it before with no consequences, so maybe, this time, Betty could too. “Where are we going?” “I don’t know. Let’s just see what we find.” Veronica put her finger to her lips and sneaked through the dorm. Betty didn’t think that was strictly necessary, but she appreciated the theatricality, grinning when Veronica waved her out of the dorm. “Pick a direction.” They both looked the same to Betty - dark and lonely - but she waved vaguely down one concrete path and Veronica set off, looping her arm through Betty’s. They walked in silence for a few minutes, nothing around them but the low drone of insects. “So this is your idea of showing a girl a good time?” Betty teased. “Oh trust me,” Veronica’s eyes were black in the low light. “When I’m showing a girl a good time, she knows it.” Betty’s retort died in her throat. She wondered, not for the first time, how true Casper’s comment was about Veronica’s sexuality, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask. They passed a lamppost and Betty could see the light dancing in Veronica’s eyes again. “But I will admit it was a lot easier to make bad decisions in the city.” Her voice was wistful. It made Betty smile, to hear the almost homesick note; Veronica seemed like a girl who wore her heart on her sleeve, but Betty was coming to realize that that was all a careful front to protect the things she truly cared about. “Tell me about it?” Veronica paused. “I wouldn’t even know where to start. New York is...it’s incredible. No matter what you want to do, or eat, or see, it’s all there waiting for you. The best in the world. The clubs. The people. I’d never get bored of New York.” “Sounds amazing. A big Saturday night in Riverdale is going up to Makeout Point after the drive-in.” “You actually have a place called Makeout Point ?” “Yeah, it’s just over the river, it’s got a great view of..the…” She trailed off. Veronica was looking at her in mute disbelief. “Do you also have a quirky diner and a cult of creepy hooded figures?” “They’re really not too bad as long as you don’t try to go to the dog park.” Veronica’s eyebrows shot up. “Kidding! I’m kidding. Obviously.” “I’m sorry, I just didn’t realize you lived in a time warp from the 1950s.” “It’s not that bad.” “Do you have a Starbucks?” “Well, no, but-” “Uh-huh.” “Ok, I’ll admit that sometimes it feels like I’m going to be in high-school forever. But we’re not too far from the beach, and skiing in the winter, and it’s kind of nice not to have all the corporate chain stores everywhere. Riverdale has character.” “Yeah, where exactly is Riverdale again?” “It’s-” “Heeyyyyy ladies! Come over and party with us!” Betty jerked her head up at the interruption. They hadn’t really been paying attention to where they were going, just wandering around, but she was now very aware that they were passing by a row of houses, their massive greek letters marking them as frat houses. Several guys were standing in the front yard of one house in shorts and tank tops, clearly drunk. Two were playing beer pong, while a third was waving at Betty and Veronica with his solo cup, losing quite a lot of beer in the process. “Ronnie…” For some totally unknown and terrible reason, Veronica had stopped walking. Betty tied to tug her forward, but she was staring hard at the yelling man. “C’mon, let’s go.” No response. “Ronnie.” Betty tried again. When Veronica did move, it wasn’t to escape back the way they’d come or ignore the interloper and continue walking, which is what Betty would have considered the sanest and safest course of action. No, instead she had to wink - wink! - at Betty while sauntering up to the frat boy, who honestly looked a little surprised. “Hey baby, special this night only. Free beer for beautiful women.” He clearly had recovered quickly. As if to illustrate his point about the beer he continued waving the cup in Veronica’s face. “You know…” “Jake.” He helpfully supplied. “Jake.” Betty watched in dumbfounded horror as Veronica put on a sultry expression, standing so as to subtly accentuate the curves of her body. “It’s so nice of you to invite us to your little…” she paused a moment, laying eyes on each of the other men to make sure they were included in her sphere “..soiree.” The first boy - Jake - looked as if he wanted to ask a few questions on that point, but Veronica stopped him, gently placing her hand on the still-wavering solo cup. “However, I’m afraid we must decline.” Betty was still trying to work out what had happened when Veronica ran by her, shouting “go go go go GO!” and grabbing her hand on the way past. Automatically turning to follow the brunette, she couldn’t resist a glance backwards at the sopping wet face, tank top, and shorts of one very shocked and beer-less Jake. They ran until Betty’s lungs were burning and it hurt more to breathe than to laugh; they gave up on the latter and embraced the former, falling against each other on at the base of a tree. “Ohmigod.” Betty gasped, when she could force out the words. “Ohmigod.” Well. It was only one phrase, but it covered the bases. “Did you….” an eruption of giggles “...see his face!” “He’s probably still wondering what soiree means.” That produced a fresh round of laughter, Betty collapsing against Veronica’s side. “I can’t believe you did that, Ronnie, that guy was twice your size!” “Please. What kind of bad influence would I be if I didn’t get us into - and out of, thank you very much - some death-defying adventure?” Betty smiled, utterly charmed by the idea that Veronica would stand up to a two-hundred-plus-pound college student, no matter how drunk, all in the name of showing her a good time. “The best bad influence.” Veronica inhaled sharply, her mouth curling but not quite achieving a smile. In the sudden silence Betty became aware of how closely they were pressed together. Somehow, she’d forgotten to be embarrassed, but realizing that only made her more conscious of the situation. Her thoughts spiralled as she searched in vain for something to say, something to pull her out of herself, but could only stare at Veronica blankly, chest laboring with short, shallow breaths. Veronica’s face seemed to glow in the soft ambient light, lips parted and cheeks flushed with their exertions. Deep in her brown eyes, flecks of gold shined, as if the glowing lights were caught within rather than reflected without. Betty wished she would speak, break the spell, because she was beginning to get dizzy and her ears didn’t seem to be working properly, filled with a pounding static. ‘During a panic attack, hyperventilation and adrenaline can cause dizziness, tunnel vision, flushing, and heart palpitations.’ Repeating the slightly clinical words of her therapist helped her feel more in control. She closed her eyes, taking a deep, slow breath. In. Count. Out. “Hey.” Betty still didn’t open her eyes; she could guess what she would see. Pity, maybe. Definitely discomfort. She trusted Veronica enough now to not laugh, but that wasn’t to only way for her to get hurt. “Bets?” She felt a tentative hand on her shoulder, just a light touch and then gone. “Hey, it’s okay. They didn’t follow us or anything, I promise. Just breathe. We’re okay.” “It’s not - I’m okay.” Betty relaxed her shoulders with a conscious effort, only now noticing the familiar bite of tightly-clenched fists. She loosened her fingers, but kept them curled into her palms, hoping Veronica wouldn’t notice. “Is it okay if I…” Veronica trailed off, softly pressing a hand to Betty’s chest, right above her racing heart. She shrugged at Betty’s questioning glance. “It always helps me. If I’m upset.” Her eyes searched Betty’s face, but she couldn’t tell if Veronica found what she was looking for. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, promise.” She smiled and winked. “Well, not too bad.” Betty was shocked to find she believed her. “Would it kill them to have a little variety?” Veronica asked the assembled group as she slid into a chair the next day. “Maybe just more than one type of salad lettuce?” “That’s sounds fascinating, Veronica, and I’mma let you finish, but we’re doing Betty’s thing now.” “Oh?” Veronica raised an eyebrow, too intrigued to be offended - although it was a close thing. Betty was blushing furiously, shaking her head and trying to fend off the attention with her hands. “No, nope, I have no things. What about the salads, Ronnie?” “Betty was just about to tell about her hopelessly romantic crush on the boy-next-door.” Casper grinned and Veronica felt her stomach drop. Angrily she tried to get a hold on herself. What did it matter if Betty had a crush on some stupid boy in her stupid hometown? It didn’t change anything at all; she had had flings with plenty of girls who had actual boyfriends, never mind crushes. Hell, she would never even meet him. It absolutely did not matter. Still, a shudder passed through her, as haunting and unseen as wind through the trees. “I knew you had secrets.” She forced a smile in Betty’s direction. “Don’t keep us in suspense.” Brigitte added. “Fine, fine.” Betty laughed awkwardly. “His name is Archie.”
10161005	The Victim of	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": null, "Characters": "Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by raining_slash [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "5/5", "completed": "2010-03-04", "published": "2007-08-20T00:00:00", "words": "27,096", "Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Slash sex, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Romance", "Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "M/M, Gen", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	THE VICTIM OF CIRCUMSTANCE (()) Author’s Note: Whilst this story will strictly follow the canon information (aside from the slash, of course) in all seven books and their two companion books; any information that J. K. Rowling may have given after the seventh book (like in interviews and such), is not necessarily going to be followed in my story. For example, the banishment of the Dementors. Just so you know.This story will eventually be slash. You have been warned! Don’t give me reviews about how sordid I am. If you don’t like it do not read it. It is also Post Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, which I am assuming ended in approximately June, 1998.Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns most of the characters and places in this fan fiction. I am not fiscally profiting from this at all and I have no money, so don’t bother suing me. (()) “The test of courage comes when we are in the minority. The test of tolerance comes when we are in the majority.” – Ralph W. Sockman Chapter One: A New Order 42 days after the Battle of Hogwarts “The time is 9:30AM, Monday the 25th of July, 1998.” The courtroom fell silent as Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, addressed his peers on the Wizengamot and the various other wizards and witches present.The murky, hoary room was surrounded by Aurors stationed at strategic points, their wands at the ready and their black uniforms looking crisp and clean. There were two Dementors that stood guard at the double oak doors, keeping obediently still. Shacklebolt’s Patronus, a lynx, stalked up and down the black wood floors, holding the Dementor’s misery back. To the immediate right of Shacklebolt, a quill began scribbling quickly, copying down every spoken word.“The Wizengamot Hearing into the offences committed under the Decree for Excessive Magical Force, the Muggle Protection Act of 1992, the Decree for Human Rights, the use of the Unforgivable Curses Act of 1813, the Murder by Magic Act of 1654, and the Servitudes of Dark Wizards Act of 1981, will commence.” All eyes fell on the young man trapped in the chair in the centre of the room, his hands, legs, arms and neck bound to the seat by chains. He was disturbing to look at, with his pale as porcelain skin that had a translucent, grey tinge to it. He seemed dangerously thin and brittle and there was a look in his eyes … a haunted look that said he had seen too much for one so young. “Wizengamot interrogators are,” continued Shacklebolt in his deep, calm voice, “Kingsley Armand Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic, Hestia Abidora Jones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Percy Ignatius Weasley, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, Hermione Jean Granger, Junior Undersecretary to the Minister, Arthur Hugo Weasley, Head of the Muggle Liaison Office, Professor Minerva Ophelia McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Dedalus Derryn Diggle, Order of the Phoenix Representative, Elizabeth Yolanda Croaker, Head of the Department of Mysteries, Tabitha Lilith Ngyuen, Head of the International Cooperation Office-”The list continued and the courtroom remained silent, but for the scratching of journalist quills in the right hand corner, and Shacklebolt’s magical scribe. Everyone’s gaze remained on the young man in the chair, who was determinedly looking ahead, gazing at apparently nothing, not having moved an inch since his arrival.“The accused, one Draco Abraxas Malfoy, eighteen-years-old, is present and stands on trial for the aforementioned charges.” Shacklebolt looked up at the young man; no feeling in particular present in Shacklebolt’s composed face. He was turning out to be the best thing that had happened to the Ministry in a long time. And with all the reforms that had been taking place, all the weeding out of the corrupt that he had been instigating, it was hard to imagine that the man had had enough sleep to be conducting all these trials.“Mr. Malfoy, you may plead not guilty to all charges, guilty to all charges, or you may specifically state which charges you do and do not plead guilty too. What say you?”Finally, there was movement from the prisoner, followed by a deep intake of breath – a difficult feat with the chain so secure around his neck. Draco Malfoy looked rather weak and anxious, and when he spoke it was with a slightly croaky voice. Like he had not used it for a while. “Guilty to all charges but Murder by Magic.” And then in a quieter voice, “I never killed anyone.”“We will determine that,” came the voice of Percy Weasley, the contempt evident. It was no secret that the Weasley family had lost their son, Frederick, in the war. Each member of the family was managing the loss in their own way. Percy Weasley’s was to immerse himself in his work.“Do you have a defense, Mr. Malfoy, for your atrocious crimes?” Percy Weasley’s father asked in a grave tone. Arthur Weasley handled the death of his son quite differently. It appeared that the man was determined to see that no other person, good or bad, ever had to feel the great loss he was feeling. That no father ever have to look at their son with the life gone out of their eyes.The prisoner struggled to keep his face impassive at the words of Mr. Weasley. He appeared in deep thought, as if wanting to perfectly choose the phrasing of his next sentence. “Self-preservation,” he finally answered, carefully and truthfully. “The Dark Lord would have killed me and my family if I had not cooperated. I had no choice.”“You had a choice,” came the bitter voice of Elizabeth Croaker. “Everyone in this room had a choice. And we have each suffered for ours, but we come out of it with clear consciences. A sentence in Azkaban may have to be your payment for your cowardice.” A tetchy throat was cleared meaningfully. It may have been Minerva McGonagall’s. Croaker ignored it.“You made the wrong choice. Besides which, new laws state the only witnesses that are allowed to present themselves to the Wizengamot are non-accused. As a result, you have no proof that you did not act on your own volition. You have no proof that the He Who Must Not Be Named forced you to do anything. And there are several, credible sources that put you at various crime scenes, including the murder of Albus Dumbledore.” It was a good thing that the prisoner was not looking at Elizabeth Croaker. He would not have liked her unforgiving countenance. “So Mr. Malfoy, how is it that you plan on defending yourself for these crimes?”The prisoner appeared visibly distressed by this speech. It was not surprising that his inability to procure a witness should concern him. Without one, it was unlikely that he could convince the Wizengamot that he had not been a completely willing participant in the war. There where only two people who could, and were disposed to confirm his story. His parents. Unfortunately for him, both had already been tried and convicted. Narcissa was handed a ten year sentence in the medium security floor of Azkaban. Surprisingly lenient, the public had thought. Lucius had not been so lucky. He barely escaped the Kiss. He was saved, miraculously, by one Wizengamot vote – Arthur Weasley’s. Seven others had been even less fortunate. Twelve Death Eaters, and other servants of the Dark Lord’s, had faced the Wizengamot before Draco Malfoy. The New Ministry Order was being rigid and ruthless. They were determined to still any uprising that may come from the surviving Death Eaters, and were determined to discourage others to imitate the actions of them.“He has a witness.” It was Hermione Granger. Even though half the pre-war Ministry workers had been fired, murdered or imprisoned, many people still had found it hard to believe that she had been given such a high position without even having her N. E. W. T’s. But then, what most didn’t know was, the only person alive who knew more details about Voldemort’s activities in the last four years, was Harry Potter himself. Hermione Granger would be more likely to catch a Death Eater in a lie than any other on the Wizengamot. “The witness waits in the side chamber.” There was a sudden rumble in the crowd and the prisoner curiously attempted to turn his head to the witness chamber door, but the chain around his neck held him tightly in place. The journalists became very animated in their corner. No other accused, thus far, had produced a witness that could come to their defense. Plenty could be found to incriminate them further, but none to absolve. The only other way to prove innocence in a Wizengamot trial was through the extraction of memories. But when in desperate need, a wizard could manipulate a memory, and as these trials were so vital to the security of the magical world, the Wizengamot would not accept the memories of accused persons as evidence. “Very well,” said Shacklebolt in his calm, low voice. “Call him in.” The Auror by the witness box turned on his heel and opened the door. Harry Potter stepped out and the crowd virtually roared in shock. Potter ignored it and made his way to the witnesses’ box; sitting himself deftly down, his eyes not even skimming over the man he was attempting to save. Everyone’s focus had shifted from the prisoner to the witness. If they had still been watching they may have seen the sudden relief that had flooded Draco Malfoy’s face. Hardly unexpected, when you considered the likelihood of sustaining a severe convicting sentence with the saviour of the wizarding world coming to your aid. “Silence!” boomed Shacklebolt, and the roar dimmed to murmurs. But this still was not good enough. “Those who cannot keep silent will be removed from the courtroom.” The Aurors around the room stirred threateningly and the crowd fell silent again, but their faces were still ablaze with excitement.Harry Potter had not been seen by the public since that night at Hogwarts, when it had all finally ended. Some believed that he was staying away from the wizarding world, until the New Order had gained full control. Others believed that he had renounced magic altogether and was going in to hiding. Draco Malfoy believed neither.“Harry Potter,” began Shacklebolt, his voice low and calm again. “You have evidence to give the Wizengamot, in regards to the guilt of Draco Malfoy?”“Yes, I do,” said Potter. The dim candlelight around the courtroom hid most of Potter’s form in shadow so it was difficult to make out his expression.“Then you may begin.” Potter took a deep breath, still determinedly not looking at the prisoner, and began, “In 1996, Draco was recruited by Lord Voldemort-” there was a sharp, collective intake of breath “-in an act of punishment. Punishment for Lucius Malfoy’s indiscretions.” Malfoy scowled. The journalists – particularly a bottled blonde with a sharp, green Quick-Quotes Quill – enthusiastically jotted down Potter’s story.“How Draco felt about his recruitment, I cannot be sure. But, as he was sixteen-years-old, I think it does not matter.”“I think it does matter,” Hestia Jones spoke up quickly. “A sixteen-year-old may not be of age, but they are still socially and morally aware.”“Oh, I don’t know,” said Arthur Weasley, listlessly shifting in his seat, an undeviating sadness in his eyes. “The war had only just started for everyone other than the Order of the Phoenix. I doubt the boy knew what he was getting himself into. He had only been a baby through the previous war.”“Regardless,” Hestia Jones continued firmly, “he appears to willingly have joined a group of notorious murderers.”The conversation continued on this vein for some time, with the entire Wizengamot expressing differing views. Finally, as the conversation was beginning to become an argument, Hermione Granger spoke up again. “Why don’t we ask Malfoy?” A few of the Wizengamot glared disapprovingly at Granger, but she carried on undeterred. “Were you pleased to be recruited, Malfoy?”It appeared that the prisoner did not appreciate being addressed by Granger. But he was not fool enough to degrade her. He answered quickly, “Yes. At the time I was pleased.”“And were you fully aware of what it meant to be a Death Eater?”He could be seen pondering this question for a moment, before answering. “No. I knew what would be required of me. But I didn’t understand how complicated it was.”Granger raised her eyebrows imploringly at him, as if to say, “go on”. He frowned in thought. “I didn’t … I …” he said in a small voice. “I didn’t understand what death was.” A few significant looks were shared amongst the Wizengamot. Some of the faces were softening, ever so slightly.“Well, then.” Granger spoke, matter-of-factly. “It has been determined that Draco Malfoy did not fully comprehend the consequences of becoming a Death Eater. Harry, continue if you will.” Potter seemed to be holding back a smirk, but he quickly hid it. “Thank you, Hermione,” he said, a slight trace of amusement in his voice. He cleared his throat. “Draco was given a mission,” he sobered swiftly as he continued, “to murder Albus Dumbledore. But Draco, despite being given the opportunity to complete his mission, did not do it.”“Because Severus Snape beat him to it,” argued Croaker.Potter’s face went very hard and many of the Wizengamot looked away, a certain amount of fear evident in their faces. Potter had just beaten the darkest wizard of all time, after all. Angering him would not be on a sensible person’s To Do List. “Severus Snape was a hero,” he said in a firm voice. “He and Dumbledore had an agreement. I have put forth all this, with evidence, to the Ministry.”Croaker looked away. Granger sighed, impatiently. Evidently this was an on-going argument for Potter. “The Ministry has already accepted this evidence and Snape’s name-”“Professor Snape.”Granger puckered her brow and reluctantly corrected herself. “Professor Snape has been cleared. His reputation restored. Please continue, Harry.”Potter still looked angry, but he trudged on. “I was there the night that Draco was meant to kill Dumbledore. I saw the whole thing. It is my belief, and I believe that it was Dumbledore’s belief, that Draco could not and would not kill him. In fact, I am certain of it. If the Wizengamot feels that I am being untruthful, I can provide the memory through use of a Pensieve or-”“Oh really, Potter,” said Minerva McGonagall, almost affectionately. “Of course we believe you. But can you be certain that Malfoy did not kill any others? Dumbledore was his headmaster for six years. He made him a prefect. The boy may have had some kind of lukewarm feelings towards him. I doubt he would have felt the same about muggles or people he didn’t know.”Potter considered this for a moment before shaking his head dismissively. “No. I do not believe that Draco killed anyone. I believe it was asked of him more than once, and that he did not comply.” “What reasons do you have, for thinking Malfoy innocent, other than your own belief, Harry?” Arthur Weasley asked, carefully.Potter looked away in thought, his face grave. “A comment that Bellatrix Lestrange made … and the look on his face when Voldemort tried to make him torture Rowle. And probably Ollivander too.” The prisoner’s eyes had gone wide and the courtroom was deadly silent. Even the quills had stopped. Potter sighed. “I cannot know for certain, I suppose. Perhaps you should ask him. But I do not believe he killed anyone.”“We already asked him,” said Croaker, a look of spite on her face. “He denied it.”“Then we will vote.” Shacklebolt declared. “All those in favour of dismissing the charge of Murder by Magic, raise your hand.”No one raised their hand and Draco Malfoy’s stomach began to fall. Then slowly, with a look on her face like she should know better, Granger raised her hand. Shacklebolt followed. Then McGonagall. Both Weasleys. And others too. It looked like it could be half. That’s all he needed. A majority. “It is agreed then, by a vote of 32 to 28. The charges of Murder by Magic are dismissed.”The prisoner smiled. A real one that went all the way up to those grey eyes and it was directed at Potter. But the witness still did not meet Malfoy’s gaze. He continued to look at the Wizengamot coolly.“Is there anything else you would like to add, Mr. Potter?” Shacklebolt asked.Potter sighed. “Only that I do not believe that Draco wished death on anyone, once he fully understood what death meant. I believe that he is a victim of circumstance.”“A victim of – oh, honestly,” Croaker sputtered, clearly unable to hold her disapproval in any longer. “You had half the wizarding world after you and you still didn’t-”“Whilst I’m sure,” interrupted McGonagall protectively, “that Potter greatly appreciates your praise. We cannot expect every child to be like him.”“Very true,” said Weasley senior. “Harry was groomed for it. Born for it. Many people did some suspect things in the war in order to survive. Not all of them are going to be on trial for it either, I might add. Malfoy was just a boy.”“Well then,” said Shacklebolt, ending the matter as Croaker looked ready to throw dungbombs at people’s heads. “Mr. Potter, you are dismissed. The final pending charges on Mr. Malfoy will be decided after a short recess. Aurors, escort the prisoner back to the brig.”Potter was on his feet and out the door, quick as a flash. The rest of the room began to disband quickly as Shacklebolt’s lynx had disappeared, leaving the Dementors undefended. But as the Aurors approached the prisoner, they could see that a whole lot of colour seemed to have rushed back to his cheeks and there was a definite look of relief. With Potter’s testimony and the removal of the Murder charges, he would not be sentenced with the Kiss. He might still receive life imprisonment. But at least he would still have his soul – a little deflated though it might be, it was not broken. And he liked it where it was. (()) Potter’s words had apparently done the trick. Many of the Wizengamot that had previously been looking at Draco like he’d skinned their puppies and was wearing them as a coat, now had an obvious look of pity in their eyes. Which Draco would’ve hated if it wasn’t going to save his life.It helped too, that Arthur Weasley continued to remind his peers that Draco had only been a boy when he was recruited. That McGonagall, who had taught him for several years, said loudly that she’d always thought Draco was a bully but never evil, also seemed to have an effect. And finally was Granger, who cinched it with the claim that without Draco, Potter would not have been able to defeat the Dark Lord. No matter how unaware Draco had been of this fact. Draco was thinking that he might get a shorter sentence than his mother, and be able to live as a twenty-something after all, when Ollivander was summoned to the witness chair.Potter had not lied to the Wizengamot; Draco had not wanted to torture Ollivander. But Potter obviously did not know that he had done it anyway. And Ollivander, ever the speaker of truth, told the Wizengamot as much. Elizabeth Croaker had looked mightily pleased when Ollivander stated that Draco had been at it for minutes and Draco could see all Potter’s words being forgotten until Ollivander added;“Good thing it did not hurt much.”“What?” Croaker croaked. Draco thought she resembled a particularly ugly bullfrog. Like the ones that used to breed down by the creek at Malfoy Manor. Lucius had poisoned the creek to get rid of the disgusting beasts.“It did not hurt much,” repeated Ollivander. “I was surprised too. His wand was just the right one for the Cruciatus. That hawthorn, yew.” Ollivander turned his inquisitive eyes to Draco. “I’m glad you did not mean it.” “What?” Croaker repeated. Definitely a bullfrog.“You have to mean it,” Granger said in exasperated tones and Draco was reminded of Potions classes. Only there was no Severus to beat her down anymore. “To successfully perform an effective unforgivable curse, you have to really, really mean it. Obviously Draco had no wish to torture Ollivander.”“Though it does beg the question,” said Percy Weasley, pompously, “why Voldemort allowed Malfoy to perform the curse for so long if it had ‘not hurt that much’?”“Oh now,” said Ollivander, his eyes shining. “I thrashed around and screamed appropriately. It was certainly a welcome break. Still, I was much happier when Harry Potter came and saved me with that clever muggleborn,” Ollivander glanced to Granger, “and your youngest boy,” Ollivander turned to Weasley senior. The courtroom all looked to Granger and Weasley too, as Ollivander turned back to Draco. “I must know, young master Malfoy, if Mr. Potter gave you back your wand? He repaired his old one you know, with the Elder Wand.” The journalists became very animated again. “He did not want the Elder Wand either. Though I must say, his original one, with that wonderful phoenix’s feather was one of my better designs. Still, it is curious, that he should choose it over the Elder.” Ollivander gazed at Draco expectantly until Granger finally intercepted. “Malfoy has no wand and shall not have any unless all charges are dropped.”Ollivander frowned. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. But, should you ask him for it,” he continued, staring thoughtfully at Draco, “bare in mind that it will not work as well for you as it used to. He is the master of it now. You must get a new one from me as soon as you can.”Someone snorted behind Draco and Shacklebolt shuffled his papers in finality. “Mr. Ollivander, thank you for your testimony. The Wizengamot will now adjourn to reach an agreed charge and sentence. Aurors, remove the prisoner.”The Aurors came forward to detach Draco from the chair as the journalists and others left the courtroom. As the chains were released Draco immediately went to rub his sore neck but he was not given the opportunity as an Auror instantly put him in the full body bind and magicked thick coils around him. He was hovered out through the back door and down the stairs to the brig, one hundred feet below the courtroom.This prison of cell blocks made from metals and magic was a holding area for those that still had their trials to come. This land of limbo between freedom and Azkaban was currently full and Dementors patrolled the brig in large numbers.After the fall of the Dark Lord, the majority of the Dementors had all immediately returned to Azkaban, without any prompting from the Ministry. It was debated for several days about what should be done with them, but as there was no real way to destroy them, the Ministry decided to employ them for the time being. As there were more prisoners in the Ministry than Azkaban, at this stage, the Dementors presence was rather vast and foreboding. Steadily sucking the last vestiges of sanity from many of the inmates. Draco was unceremoniously thrown into his cell and was taken aback to see someone there waiting for him, lounging on his wire cot. The Auror that had bound him reversed his spells and slammed the door shut without comment. Harry Potter looked up at Draco for the first time in forty-two days. Draco stared back and saw a similar kind of haunted look in Potter’s eyes that had been reflecting back at him of late. But aside from this, Potter looked much the same as he had on the first day of school all those years ago. Though of course, he was taller and burlier and his jaw line had widened. And, though it was hard to tell in the dim light of his cell, Draco thought he saw the faint outline of facial hair emerging. Potter had obviously forgotten to shave in the last couple of days.They sat in silence as Draco waited for him to speak. After a few seconds he realised he was not going to.Draco cleared his throat as Dementors shifted outside his door, their rattling breaths thinning the air. Draco, having been in the brig for forty days now, hardly noticed the difference. His insides had been frozen for over a month. Potter however, did notice.“Jesus,” he muttered. He pulled out his wand, which Draco noted was indeed his original one, and grunted, “Effin’ Dementors.” He waved his wand and a handsome stag erupted from it. The creature filled the room with warmth that Draco had never felt in that cell.Draco tentatively sat down at the opposite end of the cot, now staring at the Patronus that was pawing the ground. “I suppose,” said Draco, after some time, his voice holding up well, “that I ought to thank you.”“Yes,” said Potter in a small voice, running his hand through his jet black hair so that it stood up at awkward angles even more so than usual. “Yes, you probably should.”Draco scrunched up his face, clearly not liking the idea. “Can we just pretend I did?” He muttered so quietly that he didn’t think that Potter had heard. A snort of derision told Draco otherwise though.“I’m not here for gratitude,” said Potter. The stag walked over to Potter and lowered its magnificent head to his, nudging him with its silvery nose. “Hiya, Prongs.”Draco watched this for a moment, fascinated. Draco had never been able to produce a corporeal Patronus. He felt that familiar twinge of jealousy that often came with being in the presence of Potter. “Prongs?” drawled Draco. “You named your Patronus?”Potter turned to Draco, apparently pleased with the distraction. “Not exactly. My father was an Animagus, this was his form. His mates called him Prongs because of it.”Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes and said nothing to this. They sat in silence for awhile. Draco was considering asking him to leave but the presence of Prongs was a welcome break for him, and his head felt clearer than it had in weeks. He found himself longing for the voice of his father. And the scent of his mother. Finally, Draco was forced to say something.“So if you’re not here for a thank you, why are you here?”Potter sighed and sat up straighter, resigned to the end of the small talk. “Because I need to know something.” Potter looked across to Draco. “I need to know if you’re worth it.”Draco stared back at him and blinked. Whatever it was the Draco had expected Potter to say, that wasn’t it. “I, um, I’m not sure how you expect me to respond to that, Potter.”This answer, was evidently, not acceptable. “You could tell me that you are worth it and that I did the right thing,” said Potter looking rather agitated. Draco sneered. Really, he gives a bit of evidence and suddenly he’s my saviour? Potter saw the sneer and a rather nice one of his own began etching itself across his face. “You could tell me it was worth the two weeks of sucking up I did to Hermione,” he began, “so she wouldn’t bring up how many times you called her a Mudblood. Or the Buckbeak incident, or the Norbert incident, or the fact that you and Crabbe and Goyle tried to kill us in the Room of Requirement or the fact that you’ve never shown any remorse for any of these things.” Draco flinched at the mention of Crabbe and Potter stood up, pacing. Prongs looked at him thoughtfully.“You could tell me it was worth the fifty hours of manual labour I spent working on Arthur’s new bloody car so he wouldn’t tell the Wizengamot about how your father had given his daughter a piece of Voldemort’s soul that sent her around the castle trying to kill everyone, and that my word that Lucius didn’t deserve the Kiss-” Potter paused to snort “-kept Arthur from voting for it at his trial.”Potter was really ranting now, his voice steadily rising and Draco just looked on, slightly horrified.“You could tell me that I did the right thing, promising Professor McGonagall that I’d come in and teach Defense Against the Dark Arts in emergencies and show up whenever it pleased her to give all the students lectures, if she promised not to bring up how you let Death Eaters into the school and two students died because of it and my friend got his face bitten off!”Prongs had faded in Potter’s anger and the coldness of the Dementors was returning and Potter was shouting now and Draco got the vague impression that Potter was not necessarily just yelling for the obvious reasons, but that perhaps Potter was letting off some steam.“You could let me know that it was worth giving up a trip to Australia with my girlfriend, to go and get Hermione’s parents back, in favour of immediately beginning training as an Auror to please Kingsley so that he’ll show you leniency!”Potter suddenly shivered and looked about for Prongs, finally realising he’d faded. “FUCKING DEMENTORS!” Potter shouted angrily. He squinted his eyes for a moment, no doubt to think of something happy, and then shouted, “Expecto Patronum!” Prongs reappeared and Potter looked at him reproachfully, like he’d chosen to fade away. Draco looked at neither. The thought that Potter might’ve really put some effort into Draco’s case was pretty shocking. And the fact that it had been Potter’s intervention that had saved Lucius was beyond comprehension. It was almost as insane as the thought that Potter had most likely intervened for Draco’s benefit. Draco couldn’t think of anyone that would do that for him, bar his parents.Potter seemed to be calming down a little. Draco opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Why did you do it then?”Potter turned to him, his face still red in aggravation. He turned away to face Prongs and said in a much more controlled voice, “All these people died. Mad-Eye and Hedwig … Dobby … Remus, Tonks and Fred. All because of me. Well, partly because of me.” Potter’s voice returned to normal and he turned back to the cot and sat back down. “But you I saved. Twice.” He looked intently at Draco, willing him to understand. “I didn’t want it to be for nothing.”Draco did not completely understand, but he nodded his head anyway. They sat in silence for a few minutes and then Draco could not help saying, “You know you’re being a bit arrogant.” Potter scowled. “None of those people died because of you. Not even partly because of you. It was all him.”Potter stared at Draco with a peculiar expression on his face. A mixture of gratitude and annoyance perhaps. He nodded his head to him but Draco could tell he didn’t believe Draco’s words. Potter stood up, and looked towards the cell door.“You’ll get two to four years,” Potter declared matter-of-factly. “Minimum security most likely. That means you won’t have Dementors stationed outside your door. A couple will hover around the general area, but you’ll mainly be under the guard of wizards. And you get visitation rights. Once a month. You won’t be allowed to see either of your parents though because they’re not allowed visitation, but you can see people on the outside.”Draco snorted. “There is no one.” But despite this knowledge his heart felt lighter than it had in a month. Two years? Minimum security? He could do that.Something flittered across Potter’s face for a moment, and Draco thought it might’ve been something like pity. But it was gone so quickly that Draco couldn’t be sure. Potter banged on the cell door. “I’m done!” he called out to the guard and then turned back to Draco. “I’ll leave Prongs. He should last a few minutes, until I leave the building.”Draco smirked and drawled, “I don’t suppose you’d feel like spending the night then?”Potter gave a little smile as a Dementor came to the cell door. Potter eyed the putrid creature with disgust and then with a small billow of his cloak, was gone. The door was closed again and Draco looked to Prongs who was gazing out the cell door where its master had left him.Draco attempted to comprehend everything that had just happened. It seemed surreal. But then again every event of the last two years had. A blur of red devil eyes, green mists of death, and Harry Potter circling the beast. The war was over. But he would never be rid of it. He sighed loudly, closed his eyes and concentrated on the sound of his father’s voice, still not accepting the fact that he’d never hear it again, except in his mind. After some time, Draco knew not how long, he felt strange tingles on his nose and he opened his eyes to see Prongs standing over him, his big, doe eyes wide with wonder.Draco stood up and he reached out a tentative hand to the silvery creature. He felt no fur or flesh, but rather intense feelings of pins and needles. Prongs looked at him curiously, his eyes intelligent and – Draco was surprised to see – playful. Draco smiled at him and patted him idly until finally, like a wisp of smoke, he disappeared. Draco felt the coldness envelope him instantly, but he refused to let it into his heart. It was filled with too much promise of a future he’d only just been given back. (()) Two years is going to be a lot harder than I thought. The seconds dripped by. Like a droplet of rain running down the Eiffel Tower. He had no idea how long he had been in Azkaban. It could’ve been months, it could’ve been days. Draco would fall asleep and wake up suddenly with the thought that perhaps only hours had passed. He could not keep track of the time, no matter how hard he tried. He thought that the guard was deliberately altering his meal patterns to throw Draco off. He would count in his head after lunch had been given to him. He got to five hours before the strain of concentrating that hard finally got to him, and the little grate that passed his food trays through the cell, had made no movement. Draco was sure that at least twenty-four hours passed before he was presented with his next meal – which should have been dinner. But it was sloppy, cold, porridge. Breakfast. So Draco tried to count again. But always, everything was out of order. Sometimes he was sure he had gone several days before being fed again. And then that dream would come once more, the dream that maybe he had only been there for a couple of days and that all this time he was imagining crawling by was only that, imagining.Draco’s cell was roughly the size of a cupboard, with a cot pushed flush against the wall, and a toilet in the corner. That was it. There was a tiny, hand size window, but it was boarded shut and painted black. Draco had clawed at the window more than once, but no paint had scratched off. No natural light, no breeze, no escape. The cold, grey stone offered no comfort and the lumpy mattress offered only disturbed sleep. He felt like every time his head had finally hit the mattress at a comfortable angle, and he was finally catching some decent sleep, he would suddenly wake. But then, he had no way of knowing if that was true or not. Perhaps he was unwittingly sleeping for hours. He found better rest on the dirty, gravel floor.The lights to his cell were thrown on at what Draco was certain were random intervals. But he didn’t know for sure. None of it made any sense. And then there was the cold. It was like a permanent frost but he had no blanket to escape it, and the raggedy clothes were completely inadequate. The presence of Dementors was weak in his part of the prison, but they were still felt. They encouraged Draco’s feeling of misery and loneliness and confusion. But he almost longed for their company outside his cell. If he were driven mad, his boredom would be sated. He had never thought boredom could be such a terrible thing. But it was slowly tearing him apart and he was starting to get strange urges to hurt himself, if only to pour some life out of him to remind him that he was real. That he existed. And then he would think to himself that he did not need Dementors. He was driving himself mad very well on his own.Most of the time, when he could clear his head for long enough, he would think of his parents. He wondered how they were faring in this great fortress. He thought that that was the cruelest thing about being here. To know that his parents were so close, but still, so far away. It would be years until he saw his mother, and he would never see his father again. It seemed so unfair. And Draco wasn’t sure who to blame anymore. Everything culminated in an all too painful emotion and a part of Draco found himself longing for death.Suddenly, as Draco was lying on the floor, trying to get comfortable, there was the sound of scratching at his door. Then the door was thrown open and light flooded into his room. He threw his arms up to shield his eyes as the light flooded in. But then a spell was muttered and thick coils were thrown around him and there was nothing to stop the light burning his eyes. They watered painfully and Draco squinted hard.Draco said nothing as he was hovered out of his cell. His eye-lids still firmly shut, painful tears sliding down his face. His mind tried to groggily take in the sounds and scents of his surroundings but it was all happening too fast. Draco tried to open his eyes, but the light burred into them and they were quickly closed again.The hovering charm was suddenly, unceremoniously, removed. Draco fell to a stone floor, and he heard a loud crack and his wrist began to throb agonizingly, shooting bolts of pain up and down his arm. He whimpered and someone behind him sniggered quietly. There was a loud bang, like a heavy door closing. And then all sounds were gone. Draco clenched at his wrist. He thought it must be sprained. Not broken. If it were broken it would hurt more. Though, it hurt plenty as it was.Draco attempted to calm himself and tried to organise his thoughts. Where was he now? The cold stone of the floor seemed smooth. Much smoother than the dirty gravel of his cell. He felt it with his good hand. Why would they move him?Draco panicked. Maybe they had changed their minds and decided to give him The Kiss after all? His heart thumped in his chest. That must be it. What else could it be? He would rather die. He would rather die than let one of those foul creatures have his soul. He began shaking and bile rose in his throat.The sound of the door opening again caused a gasp from Draco. His eyes were still firmly shut. He crawled away from the footsteps until he hit the back wall. He crawled himself into a ball, turning his face away.“Fuck.” Draco’s panic lessened a little. Dementors didn’t talk. The footsteps came right up to him and he could sense someone standing over him. He curled himself into a tighter ball, pulling against his sprained wrist excruciatingly. Suddenly, there was a tentative hand on his arm. He flinched, but the hand remained. The person was warm and their hand was shooting some much needed heat through his body. But he did not relax.“What have they done to you?” The voice was familiar. But Draco’s mind could not process it. The pain, the cold, the fear – paralyzed him.The hand was removed and with it, went the newfound heat. The person walked away from him and Draco relaxed slightly. Then there were voices. Angry voices. And then it all became too much and Draco knew no more. (()) Draco woke to the smell of honey. He breathed it in deeply. He cautiously opened his eyes. They did not burn. There was a dark glow about the room he was in. Like it was sunset. As his gaze focused, he saw a great window in front of him, confirming it was indeed, early evening.Draco shifted himself and realised he was in a bed. A real one. With a blanket and a pillow. He groaned as his wrist stabbed at him and he looked down at it. It was wrapped firmly in a bandage. He inhaled deeply again and turned to the scent of that sweet honey. He saw Harry Potter. Draco gasped in surprise. The young man was holding a tray in his hands of toast and honey and a glass of pumpkin juice. His face was full of concern.Draco’s attention was turned away from the food as he stared up at Potter, extremely confused and fatigued. “Where-” Draco’s voice croaked and he cleared it awkwardly. “Where am I?”Potter moved the tray onto the bedside table. “You’re in the infirmary. In Azkaban,” Potter said gently his face the most receptive Draco had ever seen it. “Oh,” replied Draco sleepily “Why?”Suddenly Potter’s open countenance changed into an angry scowl. “The guard. The one that was looking after you,” Potter growled slightly. “He did things. Things to make you sick.”Draco gulped and found his mouth was very dry. He looked to the pumpkin juice. Potter followed his gaze and quickly picked the glass up and handed it to Draco who swiftly snatched it and began gulping it down. When it was half empty, Draco balanced it on his stomach and looked back to Potter.“What did he do?”Potter took a deep breath and dragged a stool over. He sat down on it. “For starters, he shrunk your room. Put dirt and gravel on the floor. Blocked your window.”Draco looked straight ahead. He attempted to make his face impassive, but he was too weary.“He, ah,” Potter continued, “put an anti-sleep charm on your mattress. Didn’t feed you for days sometimes, some other little things.”Draco should have been furious. But he mainly just felt sadness. At least he knew he wasn’t crazy. He continued gazing ahead through the barred windows of the infirmary. It appeared a lot like the hospital wing at Hogwarts, only it had a more sterile look about it – less homely. “Why did he do it?” asked Draco.Potter sighed again and shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno. Why does anyone do the terrible things they do?”Draco turned back to the tray and replaced his pumpkin juice for the toast. He bit into it, hoping the taste of the honey would sweeten the bitterness inside him. They sat in silence for awhile, Draco eating, Potter staring off sporadically, when a thought suddenly occurred to Draco.“Why are you here?” he asked Potter, not unkindly, but very incredulously. “Visitation,” said Potter, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s been a month.”Draco still looked incredulous. “You have come to Azkaban to visit me.”Potter nodded his head slowly, and then suddenly smiled as if the ridiculousness of this action had finally just occurred to him. Draco shook his head at him. “Why?”Potter frowned in thought. “I dunno,” he said. “I just … did. You said no one would come to visit you so I just …” Potter shrugged.Draco wasn’t sure what to make of that. So he turned away from Potter and resumed eating his toast.“I did want to ask you something though,” said Potter. “About school.”Draco said nothing and continued to eat his toast. “Obviously a lot of our year level haven’t finished our N. E. W. T’s,” said Potter. “So we’re doing it via correspondence. It’s a bit of a pain, but we don’t have to do all the subjects. Ron and I are just doing Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Charms and Herbology. The important stuff.”Draco finished his first piece of toast and moved on to the next, still lying there impassively.“I spoke to the warden,” Potter continued, unperturbed by Draco’s silence, “and he said if you wanted to do some of the subjects that aren’t practical, like Arithmancy or Ancient Runes, you could. So that, you know, you’re more qualified for a job when all that comes around for you.”Draco stopped eating for a moment, considering this. He would’ve liked to say yes, but he was beginning to feel like he was accepting far too many favours from Potter, and he did not want to be in his debt anymore than he already was. These constant feelings of gratitude towards him were not really desirable.“They were going to offer this to you anyway, you know,” Potter said, clearly reading Draco’s train of thought. “I didn’t make this happen for you.”Draco turned to Potter and nodded his head in affirmation. “Okay,” said Potter, visibly brightening. “You can do History of Magic, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Muggle Studies. They’ll send the text books to you.”Draco nodded his head again. And then an awkward silence ensued.“Well, look. I’ve got to go now,” said Potter, running his hands through his hair. “But you’ll probably be in here for another couple of days ‘til you get better. Everything’s been put right in your, um … room. So you’ve got your shower back and a better bed and all the dirt’s gone and stuff. So I’ll-”“What happened to the guard?” Draco asked, cutting in.“He was fired,” said Potter looking away. Draco read between the lines and couldn’t help feeling both bemused and satisfied. “Okay,” said Potter, standing up. “I’ve really got to go, so bye.” Potter turned and began walking towards the door where two guards stood. “Wait,” Draco found himself saying. Potter turned back around to him. Draco rolled his eyes at himself. “Are you, um,” he bit his bottom lip, annoyed at his embarrassment, “are you going to come next time?”Potter shook his head at him in amused disbelief. “Of course I am.” Then he turned back around and left Draco, calmly eating his toast. It is going to be a long two years. (()) Author’s Note: Thanks to my beta, AbundantFear. Review and make me happy! ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- THE VICTIM OF CIRCUMSTANCE (()) “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” – Charles Dickens Chapter Two: Red Heart Trumps Grey Diamond 163 days after the Battle of Hogwarts Draco was surrounded by everything and nothing. A blackness. Impenetrable, inescapable, inevitable. And it was shrinking. Confining him. It was all over him, all around him and suddenly, it was inside of him. Eating away at his core and leaving an expansive nothingness in its wake.He wanted to scream out in pain. But it was no use. No one was listening. No one cared. He was going to die in this blackness. There was nothing he could do. He felt a sharp pain clenching around his heart and with his death imminent …… he woke up.He was hyperventilating. He tried to calm his breathing but his throat felt like there was a large apple lodged in there. His blanket was twisted around him and there was a sheen of sweat all over his skin. He sat upright and the darkness of his cell enveloped him until he found what he needed. His little window had let in some of the glow of the moon, which tickled the sides of his cell wall. He scrambled out of his bed, nearly tripping over in his haste, and he threw himself against the reflected moonlight. He slid down the wall as the moonlight washed over hi, and his breathing began to still. There was no real relief though, in discovering that it was all only a dream. Because when his eyes were open, and exteriorly he was safe, internally the battle still raged. He glanced up to the calendar he knew was on the wall above his desk. Although he could not see it, he knew it would read tomorrow as a visitation day. This gave Draco relief. A brief moment of his incarceration where some semblance of normalcy could ensue. Where he could pretend that things were slightly better than they actually were. He wished it were enough. (()) Harry woke up to the sound of a portrait coughing and spluttering exaggeratedly. Bloody Phineas. His eyes adjusted to the soft morning light and he felt around on the bedside table for his glasses with his free hand. He found them and sleepily pushed them on and his bedroom at Grimmauld Place came into view, the rays of sun that managed to get around the ice on the windows, revealed a portrait on the wall of a snickering man. Harry’s other arm was being used as a pillow by Ginny. It had gone dead, but he didn’t mind.He gazed at her sleeping form. Her thick, red hair fell about her pale skin and her pink lips looked extremely enticing. Harry listened to her breathe in her life and he lent into her and took in her scent. The portrait snorted loudly and Ginny inhaled quickly and her eyes popped open. She took a moment to focus, and when she saw Harry watching her, she smiled deeply at him.“Good morning,” she said sleepily, stretching herself out. Harry smiled back and gave her a chaste kiss in reply. Ginny responded by lifting her leg to wrap around Harry’s waist – a promise of something more – when their bedroom door was thrown open and a slight young woman with big, chestnut coloured eyes and braided brown hair came into view, standing in the threshold. “Oh good,” said Hermione unusually obliviously, “you’re up. Can you hurry up, Ginny? I want to get to Diagon Alley by nine. We’ve still got loads of Christmas shopping to do.”I think Ron’s rubbing off on her, thought Harry.“Oh, hullo Hermione. Good morning, how are you?” said Ginny, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I certainly hope you’re well. But I see that you are. Perhaps because no one burst in on you at some un-Godly hour in the morning, right before a possible shag.”Harry bit back a snort and turned his head away from Hermione as she went bright red. Harry was just pleased that it had been so cold last night that after his and Ginny’s private little welcome home; they’d thought to put their pajamas on. “Oh …” said Hermione, blushing furiously and staring off at the bathroom to her left. “Don’t be embarrassed now. I mean, how could you possibly know that maybe after spending four months at school, away from boyfriend, I may possibly want to be alone with him for a while?”“Okay, okay,” said Hermione, flapping her arms in a very Ron-like manner. “I’ll just ah, leave you to it then.” Ginny was silently laughing as Hermione looked sheepishly away and closed the door behind her.“That was a bit cruel,” said Harry, though he was laughing. “You like winding her up a bit too much, I think.”Ginny smirked at him and began kicking off the covers, making her way out of the bed. “She’s just so tense. You’d think sharing a bed with my brother every night might-”“Ah, don’t need the visual, thank you.”Ginny shrugged as she stood up and reached for her yellow dressing gown. “Hey,” said Harry. “Where’s my promised shag?” Ginny smiled mischievously at him. “Tense or not, she’s right. Three days ‘til Christmas and I’ve only got half my presents. We really should get there early.”Harry narrowed his eyes playfully at her. “Tease.” Ginny giggled and ran a comb through her hair. Harry made his own way out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He had his own shopping to do that day too.Harry, Ron and Hermione had all been living at Grimmauld Place for a few months now. Directly after the war, Harry and Hermione were living at The Burrow. All of them stayed there, trying to piece their lives back together as the trials began and the newly elected Ministry officials returned order. But on the first of September, when Ginny was to return to Hogwarts for her final year, Harry decided it was time for him to leave, and with him went Hermione. Hermione had been reunited with her parents after a group of Aurors tracked them down and returned their memories. But according to Hermione, something had changed between her and her parents. They didn’t seem to look at her the same way. The thought that their little girl could implant memories in their minds and invent whole new lives for them at the flick of a wrist, seemed to disturb them greatly. Plus, the memories of their time as the Wilkins’s seemed to be pleasing. They had moved back to Australia – lackadaisically asking Hermione to go with them. But she would not. It had nearly broken her heart.Ron, not wanting to be separated from his girlfriend or his best friend, had moved into the Black house too – much to Molly Weasley’s annoyance. And so, there they had lived for the last four months. Harry and Ron were busy with their Auror training and Hermione, now that the trials were over, had moved into the Department of the Control of Magical Creatures. S. P. E. W was rife, and she had just had her first bill passed – Dobby’s Bill. It was an order pertaining that any house-elf owner that abuses their employer may face criminal charges. “It’s not much,” Hermione had told Harry, “but it’s a start.”They were also kept busy by their N. E. W. T’s. Whilst Harry and Ron were only doing four subjects, Hermione was doing seven. She had wanted to do all eleven that she had originally been enrolled in. But Ron had talked her out of it. Harry was also kept busy with his monthly visits to see Draco. Not because it took up a lot of time – it was only three hours on a Sunday – but because he was having a lot of trouble keeping his visits secret. Harry wasn’t sure exactly why he wanted it to be a secret. At least from Hermione and the Weasleys anyway, who had been well aware of the lengths Harry had gone to in order to cushion the blow on the Malfoys. But Harry felt, in some kind of bizarre and stupid way, very protective of Draco.The first time he went to see Draco – and had seen the horror that had been inflicted on him by a bored guard, who had thought no one would care about a Death Eater – Harry had been sickened. And in some peculiar way, he had felt responsible for Draco’s pain. Like maybe, if he had done more for him when they had been at school, maybe if he had attempted some kind of truce, none of this would have happened. As it were, Harry did not mind the visits very much. They were sometimes awkward and he often had to bite his tongue, and witnessed Draco doing the same. But there was something almost … endearing about his petulant arrogance. Something innocent about the indignant look on his face when he didn’t get what he wanted. Harry was not ashamed to admit that his childhood rival made him smile. And it reminded him of simpler times, when Draco was his biggest enemy and not an evil wizard and his band of homicidal Death Eaters.But none of this really explained why he kept his visits secret from the two people in the world he told practically everything too. He thought about all this intently as he made his way through muggle London in search of a present. Harry had been debating for some time, what to get Ginny for Christmas. The Weasleys were a very big family and they had a lot of friends. What if he got Ginny the same present as someone else? Harry had decided the best method of avoiding this was to shop in the muggle world. He had been walking up and down the particularly busy streets, slowly freezing to death in the snow, looking in windows, hoping something would pop out at him. But nothing did. He sighed to himself. After years of buying presents for Hermione, he had thought he would be better at this. But Hermione was not Ginny. And the way he felt about Ginny, he certainly didn’t feel for Hermione.He stood outside a jeweler – Louis Jean Re’moi. He looked at the watch on his wrist, the one that had once belonged to Fabian Prewett. It read ten o’clock. Harry sighed. He had to be at the Ministry soon if he was going to floo to Azkaban in time for Draco’s visitation. He stepped out of the icy cold and made his way into the store. It was much quieter than the other stores Harry had glanced in. A short look at some of the price tags told him why. But Harry shrugged his shoulders. Ginny was worth it, and it wasn’t as if he didn’t have the money. And it was easy to shop in the muggle world now, as Hermione and Harry had both acquired credit cards from a Swiss muggle bank, which worked directly with Gringotts. Harry looked about the regal shop, with its polished floors and chesterfield sofas. It certainly looked promising. Harry was glancing around at the display cabinets, uncertain as to what would be appropriate, when a middle-aged man approached him, looked him up and down distastefully and asked in an extremely pompous tone, “Can I help you, sir?” He said it as if hoping Harry were just lost, and not a prospective customer.Harry held back the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, I’m looking for a present for my girlfriend.”“And what,” asked the man, still looking at him in abhorrence, “is your price range? Perhaps Harry Winston would be more appropriate.”“My range,” said Harry, narrowing his eyes, “is the price of whatever I pick out.”“Very well,” said the man, still obviously believing Harry were some kind of beggar. Harry really hadn’t thought he’d dressed that badly. Just normal black muggle jeans and a green coat. “What are you looking for? A little charm perhaps?”“No,” said Harry, a slight resentfulness to his voice. “I can’t get her a ring though, ‘cause that would be a little … presumptuous. I was thinking maybe some earrings.” The man still had that look about him that doubted Harry would buy so much as paper box from his store, but he looked resigned to the fact he would have to at least show Harry the merchandise.They went through several pairs of earrings, none of which Harry thought would particularly suit Ginny. But as they went on, the store clerk seemed to become less repulsed by Harry, as he clearly enjoyed his job. He had just gone out the back to get a pair of earrings that had just come in; that the store clerk thought would suit Ginny – based on Harry’s description of her – when something in a cherry wood display cabinet caught Harry’s eye. It was reflecting off a gold wrist watch that another patron was trying on. Harry stood up from his chair and stepped away from the little table that he and the store clerk had been using. When he reached the cabinet he saw what appeared to be a large charm or brooch. It had three, white gold coils all wrapped around each other so intricately that Harry never would have been able to follow the pattern of one coil, to see where it started and where it ended. Harry imagined that the coils would have been as tall as him when stretched out. And sitting in the middle of these coils was a large, grey stone, framed in smaller black stones. They looked like diamonds, but Harry had never seen diamonds that shade before. He gazed at it wondrously and then, was slightly horrified to realise that it reminded him of Draco. Perhaps because the grey diamond was so similar to Draco’s eyes or because the charm had a sort of, uneven elegance to it that was so like Draco. Harry didn’t have long to think about it though, as the store clerk summoned him back to the chair. Harry sat back down, glancing back over at the charm as the clerk prattled on about the earrings he’d just got. Rose gold studs with a canary yellow diamond. They were simple and pretty and Harry thought that they would suit Ginny well. The man looked proud of himself and then tentatively told Harry the price – £599. They were easily the most expensive thing Harry had ever bought, but he just shrugged his shoulders. The clerk seemed both shocked and pleased as Harry handed over his credit card and he went to run it up. Harry involuntarily looked over at the cabinet again, knowing what he wanted to do, but wondering why he should. It probably cost a fortune. More than double what Ginny’s earrings were. But when the clerk came back to Harry to hand back his card, all pompousness gone, Harry asked him if he could look at the brooch.The clerk beamed and Harry sighed to himself, wondering what kind of trouble he was about to start. (()) Draco sat on his bed, his hands in his lap, staring intently at his cell door. He looked like an eager schoolboy on his first day, his eyes all wide and attentive, his hands wringing nervously.He was waiting.His cell was neat, orderly and sterile. His bed was made, his homework and school books stacked neatly on his little table, and a soft stream of light filtered in from the tiny window. The only thing that disturbed this scene was a massive funnel web spider in the left hand corner of the ceiling.“Any second now, Esther,” Draco whispered softly, addressing the spider but still staring fixatedly on the door. “Almost time.” And then, the sound of the locks being undone came through to Draco and he stood quickly. Ebenezer Crick, Draco’s dark, portly guard stood at the door, flanked by two Dementors.“Well, it’s that time of the month again,” Crick groaned out in his husky voice. He was a miserable old coot, but he was without judgment. Draco appreciated that. “Ready to go are you, Malfoy?”“Yes,” he replied, as the cheerlessness of the Dementors began to fill him with cold dread. “Well, come on then,” said Crick motioning with his arms, clearly keen to be rid of the putrid creatures too.Draco raised his eyebrows in farewell to Esther the funnel web, and walked out of his cell. His spirits were instantly raised, despite the immediate presence of Dementors. It was like this every time. Draco didn’t care that he only had three hours. He didn’t care that his time was spent with someone he didn’t particularly like. It was just always a relief to be out of his cell. To breathe some new air, see something different; speak to someone other than a poisonous spider.Draco’s life in Azkaban had improved greatly since the firing of his old guard. And his N. E. W. T’s kept him busy. He was even surprised to find that Muggle Studies was not a completely boring subject – though he still liked Ancient Runes best, just like when he’d been at Hogwarts. But despite this, the first month in Azkaban lingered with him, haunting him at day or night. When he was out of his cell, and had a distraction, he was able to forget, if only temporarily, about that seamlessly never-ending blackness that had become his life.They reached the end of the grey stone hall, and Crick opened the door to the visitation room. Draco walked in without comment; the door was closed firmly behind him and he could hear the sound of the locks, shutting him in.He looked to his visitor, who was sitting at a rickety old table in the grey stone room – that was not unlike the hall, but squarer – with a newspaper shielding his face. He looked to the left and saw a glittering silvery creature. Prongs. The stag was lying down on the floor, apparently taking a nap. Harry Potter seemed hypersensitive to Dementors, and even if there was one, just one, a hundred metres away, Potter would still conjure Prongs.Draco sat in the chair opposite, silently, embracing the warmth of the Patronus. The paper was quickly stuffed down and Potter looked at Draco, enquiry covering his features and something plastic hanging out of his mouth. Draco recognised the object from his Muggle Studies textbook. A pen. “What’s another word,” asked Potter, the pen wobbling as he spoke, “for … lascivious?” There were never any greetings in these meetings. Never a ‘Hello’ or ‘Are you well?’ Draco liked this. He hated pretence. “Do you know what it starts with?” asked Draco.“No,” said Potter, removing the pen from his mouth. “But the fifth letter is ‘d’ and the last letter is ‘s’.”“Hmm,” thought Draco. “Libidinous.”Potter looked down at the Daily Prophet crossword puzzle. “Perfect!”Potter pressed the top down on his pen and wrote down the answer. He often did things like this when he was with Draco; brought school homework or Auror case studies that he would then proceed to ask Draco’s opinion on. Draco was curious as to why Potter did this, but did not want to ask.“You never struck me as the ‘crossword puzzle type’, Potter,” said Draco, staring down at his hands and cleaning his fingernails.“I’m not,” Potter said easily. “I’ve got a bet going with Ron. What’s the capital of New Zealand? I thought it was Auckland but it doesn’t fit.”“Well it wouldn’t,” Draco drawled looking up at Potter haughtily, “being that Wellington is the capital of New Zealand.”“Oh.” Potter scrawled down the answer.“What kind of bet have you got with Weasley?”“Last person to finish the puzzle has to tell Percy blonde is not his colour.”“And here you are cheating, tut, tut,” drawled Draco, ignoring the horrific images in his mind of what a blonde Weasley might look like.Potter shrugged. “Hermione will end up doing his anyway. Besides, I’ve only got one more to go. The ‘What Am I?’”“Right then,” said Draco. “Let’s hear it.”“Okay,” said Potter, all practicality, he held the paper up to read it. “‘I am an herbivorous beast from the Far East with the power of invisibility–’” “Demiguise,” said Draco smoothly. Potter frowned and looked intently at the crossword to see if it would fit.“That’s it,” he said, writing it down. “You’re a freak, Draco. And you just saved me a lot of grief.” When he was finished the paper immediately began to glitter and glow and then popped out of the room. “We enchanted the paper,” said Potter to Draco’s questioning expression. “It’s been sent directly to Ron.”Draco nodded his head, now out of things to say. But Potter was nothing if not pre-emptive. He pulled out from a large bag under his chair, a thin tin, larger than a matchbox. Potter was wearing muggle clothes today. Normally, he wore robes.“I want to teach you a game,” declared Potter. “If you’re willing,” he added for civility. He opened the tin and out came a deck of cards. Potter began rifling through them, disposing of certain ones.“What kind of game?” Draco curiously asked.“It’s a muggle game,” said Potter. Draco curled his lip but said nothing. “It’s called Five Hundred. It’s normally played with at least four people, but I’m just teaching you so it’ll work fine with two.”“I much prefer chess,” Draco hinted, “to card games.”“I know,” said Potter, apparently ignoring the hint as he flicked away one of the jokers.Draco narrowed his eyes. “How do you know that I like chess?”Potter looked up to him for a moment, as he shuffled the remaining cards, flipping his fingers expertly through the pack. “You used to play it at school all the time. In the court yard behind the greenhouses. You know, that tournament that the Ravenclaws used to run.”“Oh,” said Draco. “Hmm. How did you know about that? I never saw you there.”“Well I’m not very good at chess, so you wouldn’t,” said Potter as he began dealing the cards out, as if four people were playing. “But Ron’s good. He won the tournament in third year.”“Oh. Yes.” Draco’s face darkened slightly. “I remember.”“Yeah,” said Potter. “Didn’t play again after that though. Said it wasn’t worth the stress. Plus, he was the youngest player in like, fifty years to win so …” Draco again, said nothing and Potter asked politely, “Did you ever win?”“Yes,” Draco answered, attempting to hide the pride from his voice, but failing. “In fifth year.”Potter nodded his head, obviously not particularly impressed, and he began explaining the mechanics of Five Hundred and Draco listened with surprising attentiveness. Draco had noticed in his previous visitation that Potter had a very easy way about him. A sort of naturally accepting nature and Draco noticed that he was much less arrogant than he had once thought. That, combined with Draco reluctant gratitude to Potter, meant that Draco was, for the most part, agreeable to Potter.But Draco had almost immediately recognised that there was this look in Potter’s eyes. Like something that had once been there had been beaten out. The affect of the war, no doubt. There was no innocence to him anymore. And only a very little amount of optimism. This pleased Draco. Not in a sardonic way, but because he felt like for once in their lives, they were silently relating to each other. After an hour of explanation and the arrival of lunch – just some turkey and cranberry sandwiches – Draco decided he wanted to play against Potter. Draco would take two positions and Potter would take the other two.“I think we should play another open hand first,” said Potter, though he seemed pleased by Draco’s enthusiasm. Indeed, when Potter had told Draco that the best skill to have for this game was an ability to keep track of people and what they’ve been playing; Draco decided that he would be very good at Five Hundred. Certainly he could read people very well, and he had a good memory.“No,” declared Draco, scooping up all the cards. “We’re playing.” Draco looked up at Potter and saw that he was smiling. “You’re not used to not having your way, huh?” Potter grinned. Draco began dealing the cards as Potter had instructed.“Privilege of wealth, Potter,” drawled Draco. “I generally get what I want.” Potter shook his head, bemusedly, and neither commented on the current irony of that statement. “It’s not really going to work, you know,” said Potter, “with only two people.”“It’ll be fine,” said Draco, firmly. “Now stop trying to delay your inevitable defeat.”Potter laughed out loud this time. Draco thought it changed his appearance dramatically for the better. His mouth opened wide to reveal neat teeth and his cheekbones took an attractive stance. His eyes lightened and the sound of his pleasant laughter danced around the room. Draco scowled when he realised he was staring, and he scooped up his cards. Potter gathered his own as his laugh died down. Draco ordered the cards, his own, and then the cards of the person who would have been his partner – hearts, clubs, diamonds then spades. Draco sighed in thought. His hand was strong in clubs, but his “partner’s” was strong in diamonds and had only two, small clubs. He looked back at his own hand. He had a four diamonds. He only had to win six tricks. Between the two hands, it should be easy.“I bet six diamonds,” said Draco confidently.“I’m meant to bet first,” said Potter, still looking pleasantly amused.Draco snorted. “Why?”“’Cause you dealt. Standard card game etiquette, Malfoy,” said Potter teasingly. It was the first time that Potter had called him ‘Malfoy’ in a very long time. “Build a bridge, Potter,” said Draco insolently. “Now bet, if you think you’ve got anything.”“You bet diamonds, huh?”“Yes,” said Draco, with raised eyebrows.“Are you sure about that?”Draco rolled his eyes snootily. “Spare me that psyche-out bullshit, and place your damn bet,” said Draco. “Or let me get on with the ass-kicking.”Harry smiled. “Alright,” he said. “I pass. The kitty’s yours.”Draco smirked smugly and picked up the remaining cards in the centre of the table. “I knew you were just waffling,” he said as he discarded his three hearts and took what was in the kitty instead. Draco led with the ace of spades, Potter played the five of spades, then Draco played the six of spades, then Potter played the jack of spades. Draco smiled smugly and took the first trick.“So,” said Potter, conversationally. “How’s your N. E. W. T’s going?” Draco played the king of spades and said, “Fine. It’s not much different from sixth year. Though Muggle Studies is kind of hard, because I’ve never done that before.”“It would be hard,” said Potter as he played low spades and Draco won that trick as well. “But it’s important to know about them and the way they live.”“You think so?” said Draco, a slight trace of contempt and skepticism to his voice as he led with a third spade.“Yes,” said Potter firmly. “I do.” Potter then put a diamond on top of Draco’s spade, and took the trick.Draco watched this and scowled angrily, leaning across the table, trying to snatch the cards back. “Hey! I played a spade; you have to play a spade! There’s none of that trucking yet!”“It’s trumping,” said Potter, laughing at Draco and holding the cards behind his back and out of reach. “And I can trump whenever I want, as long as I don’t have any of the suit that you lead with. My “partner” has no more spades.”Draco sat back down, his eyes narrowed, muttering under his breath. Potter looked down at his cards, clearly trying not to laugh. Potter’s “partner” led this time, as they had won the trick. Potter dropped the ace of clubs down.“So, uh,” said Potter, “you’re uh, not getting anymore grief are you? From anyone here?”Draco purposefully avoided Potter’s gaze and played the lowest club he had, not wanting to waste any of the higher ones as he could not beat Potter’s ace. “Everything’s fine,” he said a little closed-lipped.“I only ask,” said Potter, scooping up that trick and putting it on top of the other one as Draco’s narrowed eyes followed his movements darkly, “because uh, the guard, Crick, he uh, said you um ...” Potter sighed loudly and looked down at his cards. “Well, he um, kind of, er-”Draco’s envious eyes left the trick he’d just lost and glanced up at Potter in annoyance. “For fuck’s sake, Potter, just say it.”“He said you’ve been having nightmares.”Draco froze as Potter played the joker – the highest card in the game. Figures he’d have it.Potter looked up at Draco, waiting for him to play his next card, but Draco sat their frozen.“I’m sorry I brought it up,” said Potter softly. “It’s your business. It’s just that … you know no one would blame you if you were a little stressed out … and I thought I should give you a heads up because uh, they’re going to give you a psych evaluation. Crick just told me today.”Draco spun around to Potter. “I’m not doing that!”“I don’t think you’ve got much choice,” said Potter. “But I mean, you’ll get out of your cell for a day, and if they think it necessary, you could start having sessions with a psychologist and then you’ll get out of your cell like, once a week.”Draco mentally cursed Potter for that. For preying on what Draco longed for the most – escape. But what the fuck was a ‘psych evaluation’? What were they going to do to him? Would they make him take potions to calm him like the mentally unstable? What if they want to hurt him like that guard had?“What will they do?”“I dunno,” said Potter in small voice, shrugging his shoulders.Draco sighed, avoiding Potter’s gaze and bit down on his bottom lip, embarrassedly, before he finally turned to Potter and said, “Could you come with me?”Potter’s eyes turned away for a moment and his facial expression went a bit odd. Then he slowly nodded his head in agreement. Draco took in a deep breath of relief and threw down a diamond as the joker always followed whatever trumps are. Diamonds, in this case.They continued their game in a bit of a subdued sort of fashion. Draco did not win another trick and Potter later explained to him that he shouldn’t have bet on diamonds unless he had had one of the red jacks or the joker. Potter had all of them.They made small talk and Potter filled Draco in on the latest Quidditch news. Draco supported the Falmouth Falcons. A fact that Potter found amusing for some reason. Potter claimed that he supported the Appleby Arrows, but when Weasley was around, the Chudley Canons. Then two o’clock came and Crick banged on the door, telling them to wrap it up. Potter stood up to leave and Draco followed suit, turning his back towards the door. He turned back around to say goodbye to Potter and saw that he was standing right next to the young man who had a small box in his hand, wrapped in deep green wrapping paper. Draco met Potter’s eyes which were wide and questioning, and also doubtful. Of what though, Draco didn’t know. Draco held his gaze as Potter gave him a very little smile. “Happy Christmas, Draco.” Then he pushed the present into Draco’s hands and walked quickly out. Draco stared at it open-mouthed.“We already scanned it,” came the wheezy voice of Ebenezer Crick, standing at the door flanked by two Dementors who were reluctant to come too close as Prongs still lounged in the corner. “Nothing in it of concern.”Draco absently nodded his head and walked out of his cell, throwing a glance back at Prongs who stood up as he left, as if wanting to follow. But the door was closed and Draco was led back to his cell. All the while, staring down at the present in his hands, wondering what on Earth it could be.Crick locked Draco back into his cell and Draco immediately walked over to his little desk and put the present on it. He sat there staring at it for a while before he finally picked it up and greedily ripped the paper off it. A pretty, black wooden box was revealed and Draco ran his hands over the smooth surface before setting it back down and cautiously opening it, wondering if there would be anything inside or if Potter’s present was just the nice box.As the lid came off, and the box’s content was uncovered, Draco’s eyes went wide and he clamped his hands over his mouth. And, typical of whenever he had received nice, expensive things, and almost as if he wasn’t in Azkaban, surrounded by homicidal psychos and Dementors, Draco let out a rather girlish squeal and did a strange, little kind of dance in his chair, flapping his hands about.His father always blamed his mother for this kind of behaviour.He picked up the beautiful trinket and felt the smoothness of the coils and watched the way the small light from the window made the stones glitter prettily up at him. And in that moment, surrounded by what he was, and feeling everything that he had been feeling – he had never loved any other object, he had ever had, more. (()) Harry picked up a fistful of floo powder, a very strange kind of feeling in his chest. He walked into the grate, ready to leave Azkaban. He threw the powder down and shouted, “The Ministry of Magic!”He felt his stomach propelling him onwards as soot got up his nose and he watched grates flash by, seeing flashes of people before finally landing – thankfully on both feet – in the Floo Hall of the Ministry. He absent-mindedly brushed the soot off his clothes, wishing that traveling this way was a bit cleaner. He raised his head, heading for the residential grates to go home when the sight of his two best-friends, standing directly in front of him, both with scowls on their faces and disapproval in their stance, stopped him in his tracks.“So, Harry,” said Hermione tartly, her hands on her hips. “Anything you want to tell us?” (()) Author’s Notes: This chapter was rather uneventful, but necessary. And the Lord said, “Love thy beta.” And I do. Thank you, AbundantFear.Thanks must also go to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. You guys are the chocolate in brownies, the cherries on top, Heath Ledger in Brokeback Mountain, Britney Spears pre-skank, Quarter Pounders, public holidays and movie marathons. You rock my world. Reviewers of this chapter get imaginary lollipops! ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- THE VICTIM OF CIRCUMSTANCE (()) Author’s Note: I am very sorry that this chapter is late, but my beta was in a car accident and I refused to post it until she was well and could beta it. (()) “Each mind fabricates itself. We sense its limits for we have made them.” – Rainer Maria Rilke Chapter Three: Secrets Should Be Secret 164 days after the Battle of Hogwarts Harry let out another exasperated sigh and stared longingly at the pumpkin scones that Kreacher had just brought out from the kitchen. They were deliciously aromatic and he really wanted to reach out and grab one, but the seriousness of his current situation stopped him.“So,” said Hermione, pacing up and down in front of Harry. He had begun a steady sink into the couch the moment they’d gotten back from the Ministry, and Hermione had pushed him down into it and proceeded to interrogate him. “So let me get this straight. You have been secretly going to see Malfoy for months now? Because you – and I quote – “feel sorry for him”?”Harry glanced over at Ron, but didn’t catch his eye. The red-head sat sullenly and silently in the corner and Harry was thankful for Ginny’s absence – she was eating dinner at The Burrow. The siblings were more similar than Harry had the guts to admit in front of either of them, and he believed their reactions would be very similar. “You know I feel sorry for him,” Harry offered by way of explanation. “Why do you think I testified at his trial?”Hermione waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t understand what I’m getting at. It’s not so very strange that you would feel pity for him, or that you would perhaps go and check in on him on occasion.”Ron’s face scrunched into a disgusted scowl. He had been doing that on and off since Harry had walked out of the grate at the Ministry of Magic. Apparently Percy had seen Harry go through the Azkaban grate, and had mentioned it to Ron. Ron had told Hermione who had investigated the situation, eventually discovering the truth.“What’s strange Harry,” Hermione continued, “is that you didn’t tell us. Or even Ginny. It makes me suspicious.”Harry’s brow furrowed and he stared up at her indignantly. “Suspicious?” Of all the things Harry had expected Hermione to say, that wasn’t one of them. What was suspicious about it?“Yes!” declared Hermione. “Suspicious! Because why would you want to keep it a secret? I doubt you were ashamed, that’s not your style-”“I didn’t tell you,” Harry spoke up, aggravation filling his voice, “because I knew you would over-react like this!” A voice deep inside Harry said this was not entirely true. But it seemed like a reasonable enough excuse and Harry quickly attempted to convince himself of its veracity.“That’s not fair,” said Hermione. “We don’t always agree with each other, but we’ve always been supportive.”This was also, not entirely true. But he thought better than to comment on it now. He was feeling far too defensive and it would only make the circumstances worse. “You would’ve … you would’ve tried to talk me out of it!” said Harry stubbornly and he stood up and paced by the window. “And I notice you aren’t being very supportive now.”Hermione sighed and she finally sat down across from where he’d just been. “We’re just worried, okay? We’d rather you didn’t get mixed up with him or his family.”“I get it,” said Harry. “I know you mean well, but you’ve just got to trust me, okay? Surely I’m not the only one who cares about what happens to him deep down?”Hermione raised her eyebrows incredulously. “Sure. Deep down I care. Deep, deep down … in a well … under a rock.”Harry couldn’t help but smile at that. Partly because Harry was sure that Hermione would care if she had seen Draco the way Harry had. With all his walls broken down and barely a shell of a person left. And partly because Hermione was, generally speaking, a compassionate person.“All we do is make small talk,” Harry said in a pacifying voice. “It’s just to give him a break. I won’t keep it a secret anymore. I’ll tell Ginny later tonight-” “Do not tell Ginny!” Hermione and Harry both snapped their heads around to Ron, who had gone bright red in the face. “Don’t. Tell. Her. She hates him. Hates his father in particular. Do you forget what that bastard did to her?”“Of course not!” Harry ran his hands through his hair as he thought of the way Ginny’s eyes narrowed nastily whenever the name ‘Malfoy’ was mentioned. Harry understood – but Draco was not Lucius. “Well, just don’t see him anymore,” said Ron, rather shrilly, pushing his hands through the air in a smothering motion, “and then we won’t tell her anything, and everything will go back to normal and we’ll never talk about it again.”Harry opened his mouth to protest but he caught Hermione’s eye. She was shaking her head furiously at him. So Harry turned to Ron and nodded his head in agreement. But it was all for show. There was no way that Harry would stop seeing Draco. Every time the thought even crossed his mind, Harry would see Draco curled in a ball on the ground. His black and white prison robes covered in filth, his thin body shaking madly and his eyes full of torment. That image had etched itself into his brain. It, much like Draco, would not be ignored.Hermione spent the rest of the evening giving him significant looks. But Ron seemed determined to ignore the fact that Draco Malfoy had once again become a part of their lives. Harry spoke very little to either, and instead wondered intently, how on Earth he was going to be able to see Draco without them knowing now. The psych evaluation was on Boxing Day. (()) It was Christmas Eve when Harry wrote the letter. He wasn’t quite sure why he did it. He doubted any of them would even read it. But maybe … maybe one of them would. Maybe one of them would care. Harry had never thought he’d care. But obviously he did. The war had changed him in ways he didn’t completely understand yet. And that scared him a little.So he sat at his desk in the study whilst Hermione and Ron had breakfast, and he wrote a letter to the only blood relatives he had. Dear Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley, I’m sure you’ve gathered by this stage, that the war is over. For good. And I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know I shall never return to Privet Drive uninvited. But I thought it was important that I make sure you’re all alright, and to let you know that I am alright. If you ever need anything, you may write to me at the address on this envelope. Don’t worry, no more owls. Hoping you all have a good Christmas, Harry It was simple and casual, and perhaps a little politer than necessary, but Harry folded the letter and put it in an envelope anyway, carefully printing the address. He put a little stamp in the top, right hand corner.He would stick to his word and not use an owl. Three such birds sat on a perch by the window, looking at him expectantly. Pigwidgeon twittered on his end of the perch, clearly hoping Harry would choose him to send the letter. Iome, Hermione’s barn owl, avoided Harry’s gaze. She didn’t like anyone using her but Hermione, and Hermione used her plenty. The last one, a large eagle owl with rather large talons and black feathers, stood on the perch with eyes of complete calm. He was Harry’s. It had been hard to go back to the Owl Emporium, after what had happened to Hedwig. But it had needed to be done. The Auror Professors demanded that they all had owls, for a start. It was necessary for handing in assignments. So Harry had chosen the owl that had appeared the most self-dependent, and had left there quickly. He called him Mercury. Because the owl had eyes the exact colour of mercury poison – as Hermione had pointed out in distaste when he’d brought him home.Harry stood and walked over to their perch. He held the letter out to Mercury who took it into his strong beak. He didn’t like letters strapped to his legs. Pig hooted disappointedly.“Take it to the Post Office in Diagon Alley. I want it posted the muggle way.”Harry opened the window and Mercury’s large wings expanded out as he soared out the window. Harry watched him fly off until he disappeared from view. He stood there, looking at the grey sky and letting the icy air fill the room until the door was swung open and Ron bounded in. “I can’t believe we have class on Christmas Eve. It’s such bollocks.”Harry shut the window. “Yeah, but only six months to go and we can start work.”“Yeah, I suppose.” Ron headed for the grate and picked up a fistful of Floo Powder. “You coming?” “Yeah,” Harry said, moving to join Ron. “I hope Professor Prachett is still sick. Old git.”Ron snorted as he stepped into the grate and shouted, “The University of Camelot!” Harry followed after and soon they were walking the frosty campus, dodging other students as they made their way to the Auror Building.Harry had asked, on his first day, if Camelot was named after the mythological city that had been destroyed centuries ago. He had been told, rather bemusedly that this was the ancient city and that it was never destroyed, just reclaimed. Which meant absolutely nothing to Harry, but he didn’t think it wise to question further. He was no longer a particularly curious being. That had died with the war.Camelot was the only university in the United Kingdom, and there were only five world wide. One each in Poland, Egypt, Canada and Thailand. They were all at least the size of Hogwarts, teaching things from Auror Training to Dragon Taming, from Gringotts Banking to teaching.It was a beautiful campus, even covered in snow. Medieval buildings as far as the eye could see, each with more history than some countries could boast. Harry would have liked to explore the campus, but he didn’t really have the time and so he had to make do with the Auror Building. It was a rather imposing tower-like structure, with each level representing the different subjects they studied. Potions, charms, defensive magicks, dark arts history, administration and offensive magicks.As they approached the grey stone, Harry saw familiar faces standing outside, waiting to be allowed in. “Hiya, Harry! And you too, Ron.” A bright-faced American girl with a fantastic ability for Charms approached them. “Goddamn Prachett’s being a prick. Won’t open the doors until nine o’clock. Which, you know would be fine, but for the fact he wants us here at eight thirty.”“Idiot,” muttered Ron. A few others that they had been friendly with over the last few months – most of them girls – came over to speak to them as well. When Ron and Harry had first started, no one could even look them in the eye. But eventually their peers had begun to see them as normal people, and excessive reverence was only shown to Harry on rare occasions now.“Jayla, honey,” said a dark girl from South Africa with a knack for Veritaserum. “Please tell me you scored with that very fine piece of work over there.”Jayla, the bright-faced American followed her friend’s eye line to a group of mainly guys, huddled in a group on the other side of the entrance. Harry knew who they were referring to. A young Italian man, with big chocolate brown eyes and a debonair air. After all the females in their class had accepted the fact that both Harry and Ron were in perfectly happy relationships and weren’t interested in “branching out”, attention had quickly turned to Furio. Who was, apparently, “six feet of pure, unadulterated, European perfection”. Ron thought he was an idiot. Harry thought he had a nice Stupefy.Jayla went a little red as she turned to the group. “Um … no I didn’t. And I don’t think any of us are. He’s, um, he’s gay. And I found that out the hard way.”There was a collective sigh of disappointed from the girls, but Harry looked to Ron and Basim, a young Lebanese man with a killer Petrificus Totalus. Harry was much more interested in their reactions. Neither of them seemed particularly surprised or disgusted. “Is that common in the wizarding world?” Harry asked Ron and Basim quietly as the girls talked about what exactly Jayla meant when she said, “the hard way”. Ron shrugged. “I dunno. Whatever floats your boat.”Basim leaned over. “There isn’t as much prejudice in the wizarding world,” he clarified in a slight Arabic accent, “between race and sexuality. It’s always been more about blood purity. Some pure-blood families don’t really like it, just because they’re not going to be producing kids then. But it’s not really a big deal. We have a rather large bi-sexual population, as a result.”Harry nodded his head in understanding. It made sense. And as Harry thought about it, he remembered something that Dean Thomas, an old Hogwarts friend, had once said. “I’m up against it for being black in the muggle world, and I’m up against it for being a muggle-born in the wizarding world.”Harry looked over to Furio, curiously. He hadn’t met anyone that was gay before. Or maybe he just hadn’t known they were gay when he’d met them? Suddenly Furio met is gaze and looked at him rather intently. Harry smiled at him casually and turned back to Ron and Basim. They talked Quidditch for a couple of minutes, willing the minutes away so they could get inside out of the frost and get the class over with. Harry had a N. E. W. T. Potions essay due soon that he was hoping to finish so he would have the rest of the week free to spend with Ginny. Potions was a subject he now found quite easy, thanks to his Auror classes which were much harder. Harry was just thinking to himself that if Prachett didn’t open the door in one minute he was going to blast it down, when he heard his name mentioned by one of the girls. “What was that?” he asked, turning to face them.“We were just saying,” said Jayla, looking highly amused, “that we should’ve known about Furio. He’s looking at you with a lot more interest than he ever showed us.” The girls giggled and Ron and Basim looked behind them to Furio. Harry did not. Basim laughed, “They’re right. He’s being rather blatant actually.”Harry’s defensive-humour immediately went up. “Well I am very good-looking. I don’t blame him.”Ron snorted as Professor Prachett finally opened the great oak doors, his arrogant face in a smirk. They shuffled inside; shaking off snow from their clothes. And to Harry’s relief, no further mention of Furio was made. He gave him a wide berth all class.They worked on making Apparating Draughts from natural supplies for if-and-when they are stranded without their wands. Prachett skulked around them making biting remarks about everybody’s work except Harry’s. This only annoyed Harry as he was quite clearly one of the weaker students when it came to Potions, and he did not appreciate the barefaced favouritism. Three hours later they were dismissed and Prachett gave them assignments for Christmas. Because he was a nice man like that. As Harry and Ron trudged their way through the snow, heading for the Floo Hall to go home, Jayla called out to them, “Hey! Christmas party in my dorm tonight! Bring your girlfriends!” “Oh good!” said Ron. “Hermione was talking about going to the Lovegoods. Now we’ve got an excuse to say no.”Harry laughed as he grabbed a fistful of Floo Powder. He was pleased. He had no great desire to see Xenophilius, even if he was Luna’s father. (()) Hermione was extremely peeved at having to cancel on the Lovegoods at such short notice. But as both Ron and Harry were keen to go to Jayla’s party, and neither Hermione nor Ginny liked the idea of them going to a girl’s party alone, she did not have much choice but to agree.Ginny dressed Harry. Something Harry kind of annoyed and Ron found very amusing. Hermione, however, thought Harry looked much better than usual and brashly stated that he should let Ginny dress him all the time.She’d put him in – what Harry considered to be far too tight – black trousers and black leather, shin high boots. This accompanied a plain white shirt and an earthy green robe-coat that buttoned down to his waist. She also made him wear contacts and ran this weird, white mousse through his hair. Ginny said he looked sexy. Harry thought he looked like a try-hard, wizard aristocrat. But he was, for some strange reason, particularly hot around the collar, and was eager to please her that night. So he suffered silently.Ginny herself had gone to a lot of effort to impress their university friends. She was wearing skin tight brown leather pants and a yellow halter that made Ron scowl. Her brother had opened his mouth to protest but then Hermione had glided down the stairs looking very classy in a blue cocktail dress and he was silenced. Ron wore an unmistakable smile of pride all the way to the Lady of Shallot dorm. They banged loudly on the front door. A pink-haired girl yanked the door open. The sound of music instantly pounded through their ears. They had obviously used a silencing charm around the dorm. The girl didn’t even bother staying to see who they were; she just turned on her heel, a Firewhiskey in her hand. They cautiously stepped into a crowded hall that opened up to a crowded lounge on the left, and a crowded kitchen to the right. The place was half-heartedly decorated for Christmas, with a tree bedecked with beer cans to top it off. There was the stench of beer and Firewhiskey and a lot of smoke filling the air. Hermione closed the door behind them as Harry’s eyes scanned the crowd, looking for someone he and Ron knew. Harry was relieved to see that several guys were wearing similar clothes to him. “ARGH! HARRY! RON! YOU CAME!” Jayla came running up to them, clearly pissed. She threw her arms, very ungracefully around Harry and squeezed him tight. Harry laughed and patted her on the back. She let go and moved on to Ron, giving him a smacking kiss on the cheek.“So, introduce me to your bitches!” Jayla said loudly. Harry could feel Hermione flinch, but he turned to her and gave her a reassuring smile. It was just the way Jayla spoke, alcohol or not. She didn’t mean anything by it. Harry introduced the girls and Jayla exclaimed loudly over Hermione’s dress and told Ginny that she was far too hot to be only seventeen. Jayla then left as quickly and as loudly as she had come.“Well,” said Hermione, her eyebrows raised. “She seems nice.” Hermione was then approached by a slight brunette girl who looked vaguely familiar to Harry. It turned out to be Mandy Brocklehurst, an old Arithmancy friend from Hogwarts, who Hermione quickly went off with to talk to. Ron went to get drinks for everybody and after that the night became a hectic blur.The first one of them to get really drunk was Ron. The sign was when he started breaking out into the Chudley Cannons theme song when the clock struck twelve and they were all meant to be singing Jingle Bells. Harry knew he was drunk when he joined in. Ginny was hit on by four guys, three of whom nearly wet themselves when she declared to them that Harry Potter was her boyfriend, and one of whom did actually wet himself. Hermione was hit on by five guys and one girl. Each time this happened, Hermione’s eyes would glow as she gently let them down. She was no longer the bushy haired, buck-toothed, unseen plain girl. She was a pretty young woman with intelligence colouring her eyes. And she was still pleasantly surprised when other people noticed.Ron was impossible the whole night and insisted on doing everything loudly. Speaking singing, dancing, walking, drinking, singing, flirting, running, stripping and singing. Just to name a few. But Harry refused to try and stop him. They’d never had a real chance to unwind after the war.Harry just kept drinking. And each time he did he forgot that much more. With each sip, went away a little bit of pain that had been there for so long now that Harry had forgotten that it wasn’t right. So Harry just kept on drinking that sweet release. It wasn’t long until Harry was so drunk he forgot that he was a horrible dancer and should never do it in public. He forgot that you never should never eat baked goods from strangers. He forgot that most girls don’t like the word “cunt” and that using it to describe someone isn’t very nice. He forgot that he should be offended when he’s called a “prick”, in retaliation. But he mainly forgot that he had a girlfriend. And that he was not gay. No, he most definitely was not thinking about how wrong anything he was doing was as he stood against the cold tile of the bathroom floor with his too tight black trousers bunched around his boots. He didn’t think about Ginny as Furio, the six foot pure, unadulterated, European perfection, took Harry’s cock into his mouth and sucked it so hard Harry lost his footing. He was not thinking about wars or Voldemort or Dumbledore or anything that caused him pain as he sat there, slumped against the wall with that Italian licking up all his come.And when he pulled his pants back on and tripped down the stairs to find the other three waiting for him in the kitchen – Ron sporting a mysterious massive black eye – he didn’t think about obligation or responsibility. Oh no. It was not until twelve thirty nine on Christmas Day, when he finally woke up and his head felt like it was splitting in half, did he realise that he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. (()) Draco was fidgety. A sign of his nervousness. He really hoped that Potter didn’t bail on him. Draco’s feelings for Potter had changed from indifference into lukewarm acceptance, true, but if Potter didn’t show up Draco was more than willing to revert back to full blown hostility, let alone indifference.Although Draco was pleased to be out of his cell again so soon after his last visitation. Waiting in the corridor of St. Mungo’s with a Dementor, the Azkaban warden and two correctional officers was not that much of an improvement. And the thought that kept crossing Draco’s mind was what if they decide I’m too crazy to be let out in eighteen months? What if they lock me up forever?Some of Draco’s fears had been quailed though. Ebenezer Crick, his guard, had informed him that all he had to do was talk to this psychologist. Nothing else would happen. So at least Draco could stop thinking about electric-shock therapy – which he read about in his Muggle Studies textbook.The door to the corridor was suddenly swung open and in walked Potter looking strangely ruffled. But Draco didn’t care what state he was in, as long as he was there. He smiled deeply at the stupid Gryffindork. Thankful that Potter had kept his word and come to the consultation, and mindful of the perfect brooch Potter had brought for him that was now sitting safely in his pocket.Potter nodded his head in greeting. “So, are we doing this or what?”Draco raised an eyebrow. “In a hurry, Potter?”Potter made no reply and Draco examined his companion more carefully. He looked run down, like he hadn’t had a decent sleep. And there was a strange vibe coming from him. Draco normally sensed calmness in Potter, but now there was something else. Something completely different. And then Draco knew what it was. His father had been emitting those vibes all last year. It was guilt.Draco narrowed his eyes, suddenly very interested. “What did you do, Potter?”Potter turned to him, his eyes wide. Draco smirked. He was right. “Don’t look so shocked. You’re rather transparent.”Suddenly Potter’s face changed from shocked to questioning. “No. I’m not transparent at all. No one else has noticed …” Potter trailed off. Aware that he may be saying too much. Draco’s curiosity peaked even more and he happily pushed the consultation from his mind. “What did you do? Wait! Let me guess.” Potter’s countenance went sullen and his face clearly said, “you wouldn’t believe me if I told you”. Draco opened his mouth to say more, but he was cut off by the arrival of the psychologist. She was a petite woman with sandy blonde hair and lots of freckles. Draco frowned. He didn’t approve of freckles. The warden approached her and they had a short word which Draco did not hear. She briefly glanced at Potter, then at him, and then she stepped over to her office door, holding it open for him.“Right then,” she said, smiling. She was Irish. Draco didn’t approve of that either. “My name is Erin McAvoy. Let’s get started, shall we?” Draco stood and Potter made to follow him, but Erin held up her hand. “No, no. It’s best if we’re alone.” Potter shrugged his shoulders and went to sit down where Draco had just been. Draco made to protest but was cut short when Erin firmly pushed him inside and the scent of vanilla was suddenly in the air.“Hey!” said Draco. “I want Potter in here too.”She laughed a little and closed the door. “No, you don’t want him in here. Come on, take a seat.” Draco crossed his arms as she gestured to a pair of couches by a window. The artificial sky outside was completely cloudless, and the sun sent rays of light dancing over her wooden desk and bookshelves. And even though it was fake, Draco contentedly moved towards the window. He hadn’t seen the sky like that in six months. And it was eerily calming. Draco felt his fears and anxiety wash away as he gazed out at the expansive blue.“So,” he said. “How long am I allowed to stay here?” (()) Harry sat in the corridor outside Erin McAvoy’s office for over an hour, dodging questions from the awe-struck and determined warden. His white moustache wiggled each time Harry offered him a satisfying answer. There weren’t many of those though, as Harry’s thoughts were rather crowded with full-blooded Italians, scarily insightful Slytherins and his own self-hatred.Part of him wanted to tell Ginny everything. And another part of him knew that would be an incredibly stupid and pointless thing to do. He just had to come to terms with it, and try and move on. But each time he looked inside himself for an answer, he only found confusion.Finally, when boredom was beginning to become a problem, Erin emerged from the office. Draco did not follow her and she closed the door behind her. “So,” said the warden, his double chin wobbling away. “Can I take him back? He’s not going to off himself?”Erin looked at him with vague distaste. “No. Not immediately anyway. But there are a couple of rather serious problems that we are going to need to sort out.”“Post-traumatic stress?” Harry offered. It was an obvious conclusion.“Yes,” said Erin. “But that’s hardly surprising considering what he’s gone through over these last three years. Especially at such a young age. And unfortunately, being in Azkaban is not helping anything.”Harry nodded his head. The warden was nonplussed.“But I suspect there’s something else,” she said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “It’s hard to tell at this stage.”Harry shook his head. “What is it?”“I believe that he may suffer from Histrionic Personality Disorder.”Harry had never heard of such a thing, and apparently either had the warden. They wore mirrored faces of confusion.Erin sighed, patiently. “In simple terms, it’s like narcissism except … well, worse. Histrionic personalities are highly manipulative. And they normally manipulate through sexual seduction.”Harry stared at her blankly for a moment. And then said, “You think Draco has this?” He wondered vaguely if he’d ever been sexually manipulated by Draco.“I think he had it. The post-traumatic stress and his current situation have suppressed it. But that doesn’t mean when he gets out, that he won’t go back to it.”Harry shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve known him for a long time-”“You knew him when he was a child. But there was a while there when you didn’t see him a lot, huh? He told me.”And Harry knew what she was implying. Harry had no idea what Draco had done for all those months, in order to stay alive. (()) Author’s Notes: Thank you, AbundantFear, my darling beta who feeds me scones and tells me I’m wonderful. I’m very sorry that Cedric, your beloved Barina, has died. I am glad that your new car, Lancelot the Lanos, loves fifth gear so much.Ahem.--- LOLLIPOPS ---Enjoy! And don’t forget to push the button and send me some freakin’ love! ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- THE VICTIM OF CIRCUMSTANCE (()) “Honesty is a good thing, but it is not profitable to its possessor unless it is kept under control.” – Don Marquis Chapter Four: Age of Reason 300 days after the Battle of Hogwarts “So it’s completely turned off now?” Draco glanced over to the artificial sky outside the window. It did feel different now. More artificial and less soothing. Though the light still skimmed across the office walls, bouncing off the bookshelves. Draco liked this room.“Yes,” Erin confirmed, a notepad in her lap and a self-writing quill hovering over it. “You don’t need the Calming Sky anymore. These last few months have been good. You’ve made very encouraging progress.”“So I’m no longer suicidal or sexually manipulating?” Draco asked with sarcasm layering his voice.Erin smiled patiently. “Your post-traumatic stress has dissipated to acceptable levels. And as for the Histrionic Personality Disorder … well, I think you need to accept the fact that it may always be a part of your life. But understand; it doesn’t define you.”Draco had been seeing Erin McAvoy for just over five months now. He had forgiven her for being Irish and no longer gazed disapprovingly at her freckles. And although it had been hard to open up to her at first, Draco had found that it was good to talk to someone about his feelings. And soon, after his sessions with her, he began to notice a generally improved outlook on his life. But the idea that he would always have a personality disorder labeling him – like he didn’t have enough of those – was rather unnerving.“Ninety-five percent of the population is neurotic, Draco,” Erin explained. “It’s just about learning to control our neuroticism, so that it doesn’t affect our ability to function in society. That is all we are aiming to do here. You needn’t feel like a freak,” Erin smirked at Draco. He had taken to calling himself “The Freak”, of late. “It is likely,” Erin said, as her quill dashed across the notepad, “that you will always be a slightly manipulative person. And be a little on the narcissistic side. And it is likely that you will use your sexuality where you can, to better your circumstances. But this does not make you a bad person. It is no different than a shrewd person, using their intelligence and connections to further themselves. It is completely normal to be completely abnormal.” Erin had been saying similar things to him for some time now. But it still hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Draco still felt the need to be vindicated for his past actions somehow, without being labeled “histrionic”. “Last session,” Erin began, her brown eyes attentive, “we spoke a bit about the war. And you began to tell me something, but then you got uncomfortable and stopped. Do you remember this?”Draco avoided her gaze. He’d been wondering if she was going to bring that up. “Vaguely,” Draco curtly replied. His countenance instantly changed and he became closed up, a cloudy look on his face.“Would you like to talk about it now?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Images flashed through Draco’s mind. Images of darkness and humiliation. Draco imagined telling her about it. But he couldn’t find the words to even describe it. And as the full memory of it came to the surface of his mind, so real that he could hear voices, he squeezed his eyes shut and pushed it away. He wasn’t ready for that yet. “No,” he muttered, his breathing becoming heavy. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Okay,” said Erin. She always accepted things. She never pushed him. “Okay then. Why don’t we talk about your parents? Last session you said you were having dreams about them.”Draco sighed, relieved that the subject was changed. “I was. I am.”“Do you want to tell me about the dreams?”Draco told her about some of his dreams, not all of them. Never all of them. His father always said that no one should know everything about you. And Draco believed that. He didn’t trust Erin. He liked her, more than he would ever admit to any breathing person. And he respected her. But he didn’t trust that if someone offered her enough money or if someone high up in the Ministry asked her about him, that she wouldn’t spill her guts. Draco had always been like that though. He never trusted anyone. Draco was now almost halfway through his sentence. And whilst the last ten months had felt like the longest of his life, there was still a real sense of relief in the knowledge that the end was near. Because sometimes he felt so idle that the seconds went by at a snails pace and he was certain that he would be near death before he was finally released and got to drink Firewhiskey again.There were other things that made prison life unbearable too. The hygiene was one. Although Draco showered once every twelve hours, he still never felt quite as clean as when he had used his own products. Draco was also only allowed to have his hair cut every six months. As his hair naturally grew extremely fast, this meant that Draco’s hair was constantly threatening to hit his shoulders, and just before it would, he’d be allowed to cut it. The only way to avoid the long hair was to have his head shaved. But Draco had decided that a Woodstock look was decidedly better than a Skinhead one, and had declined the barber’s offer.“Happy nineteenth birthday for Sunday,” Erin said to Draco as they began to wrap the session up. “I won’t see you ‘til after, so I thought I should say something now.”“Thanks,” said Draco, his voice neither pleased nor hateful, but rather just polite.“You have a visitation then with Harry Potter, right?”Draco cleared his throat. “Yes.”“You told me in our first session, that you had hated each other for years. Do you still feel that way?”“No,” replied Draco, not even having to think about it. His feelings for Potter were becoming increasingly and undoubtedly confusing – no doubt due to that lingering desire to distrust anything that he wasn’t. But whatever his feelings were, they weren’t ones of hate.“Would you say that you and he are friends?”This time Draco did think. Four months ago, even with everything that Potter had done for him, he would have said no. But the only people he saw more of than Potter, was Erin and Ebenezer. Potter came to all Draco’s visitations, he often escorted Draco to his “freak sessions” early in order to talk beforehand for an hour or so, and he had successfully charmed both Ebenezer and the Azkaban warden so that he could came and visit Draco off the book at times other than what was allotted. All up, in the last four months, Potter had visited Draco at least once a week. At first, Draco had got the impression that Potter was just trying to avoid certain people in his life, but now Draco wasn’t so sure. Draco never really fought with Potter anymore, though they occasionally had arguments when they were playing card games or chess and Draco would cheat when he saw he was losing. But most of the time, they had each other in hysterics. Or rather, Draco had Potter in hysterics with all his impersonations, and his perspectives on many of the events involving Potter in the first five years of Hogwarts; which were apparently highly inaccurate. But it made Potter laugh, so Draco would make each incident as ridiculous as possible. And as Draco thought about that – that fact that he wanted to make Potter laugh, he realised that he did like him.“Yes,” Draco answered, a little bewilderment in his voice. “Yes, we are friends.”Erin smiled deeply at him. “Good. I’m glad. You deserve to have good friends.”Draco raised his eyebrows. “Do I?”Erin got that look on her face that Draco was very familiar with, it meant a new topic for interrogation. Draco looked up at the round clock on her back wall above her desk and gestured to it with a nod.“Oh, well,” he said. “Time’s up. Best be going. Got an incarceration to get to.”She giggled at him as he stood to leave. He took a deep breath, knowing there was a Dementor waiting for him on the other side of the door.“Draco?” Erin called to him as he went to turn the door handle. He turned around to face her. “You do deserve it,” she said a little breathlessly. “You deserve his friendship.”For the first time since he’d been seeing her, he smiled at her. Not sneered or smirked. But smiled. And he could see her melting under it and then he had her and he knew it. It hadn’t happened because he’d forced her into it, or because he’d tricked her into it. He had done just being him. It was the most satisfied he’d felt since the day he’d won – not brought – his way onto the Slytherin Quidditch team. (()) Steady, even little breaths in the corner let Harry know that Teddy was asleep. Finally. Because that kid had a set of pipes on him that made Harry think that maybe Teddy did have some werewolf in him after all. It certainly didn’t make crash-studying very easy. All of Hermione’s stupid notes didn’t make it very easy either. Harry briefly glanced at a bit of parchment that was covered in Hermione’s teeny writing. It was, according to the heading, a rough layout of the properties of the Philosopher’s Stone.Hermione, in cahoots with Professor McGonagall, was writing a non-fiction book called Harry Potter and the Rise and Fall of Lord Voldemort. Harry thought the title could use a little work, but Hermione had told him, through a defensive facial expression, that the title had been worked on as it had previously been The Boy Who Lived’s Grand Defeat of He Who Must Not Be Named, with the Assistance of Albus Dumbledore and Many Other People That Sacrificed Themselves for The Boy Who Lived’s Victory.Harry didn’t really like the idea of there being a book. But if Hermione didn’t do it, Rita Skeeter was going to. She’d been trying to get a court order passed to get the rights. Harry knew whose version he’d prefer, so he was letting it go.He sighed and pulled out one of his Auror Training textbooks, Aurors in the Wilderness: Because It WILL Happen by Barnaby French. Harry wasn’t quite sure why he was bothering to study so much. Kingsley Shacklebolt had told both him and Ron, in no uncertain terms, that as long as they passed their practical Auror exams, they would go straight into the Ministry. Just completing the theory Auror exams and the appropriate N. E. W. Ts was apparently acceptable for both of them. Ron had taken this to heart and hadn’t opened a book for two months. They would both be able to pass the practical work. Harry was the best, and Ron was one of the best, in the class. But Harry felt this great urge to do really well, on his theory as well as his practical. It was like he could feel everyone’s eyes on him, expecting him to do well because he’s The Chosen One. Harry did not crave fame or attention, but he’d like avoid public criticisms if he could.He poured over the book, taking notes and then rewriting them, trying to lock all the information into his brain. As he was just finishing up, and ready to move on to Camouflage like You Mean It by Butterfly Beechester, his eagle owl came swooping into the study through the open window. The weather had been sweet and warm, so Harry had left it open all day. Now, at a little after lunch, the sun was showing off in full bloom.Mercury dropped a letter from his beak and soundlessly moved to the owl ledge where only Pig was, taking a rare and joyous nap. Mercury lapped up some water from his tray as Harry looked down at the letter. He knew who it was from. Ginny always replied quickly, even if he did not. He opened the letter and read: Dear Harry, Oh my God! Fleur’s pregnant? Why didn’t anyone tell me sooner? I just sent Bill a massive letter, including a list of boy and girl names that Luna and I came up with in Charms. Although, I don’t know how much good Luna’s are going to be to them, if you get what I mean. Okay, so I’m in Potions right now and Slughorn is being totally oppressive. I’m not paying attention because we’re just making Sleeping Draughts. He thinks they’re going to be on the exams, to you know, throw us off ‘cause no one would have prepared for such an easy potion. Whatever Horace. I’ll fake a cramp when I finish this letter so I can go to the Owlery. Quidditch is brilliant – thanks for asking – because we are brilliant and won the cup! As you knew we would! And guess what? There was a scout there! And she was totally freaky but she asked me if I’d be interested in considering playing for the Holyhead Harpies! I nearly had a coronary. That would just be the best thing, hey? I would still have time to go to Camelot and do Journalism. But don’t tell mum. You know how she feels about jobs that don’t involve desks. Later to- damn it. Bloody Slughorn. I have to go now. I think he might’ve just Legilimens’d me? The bastard. But I love you so much and I miss you like you wouldn’t believe and I cannot wait to see you and show you just how much I miss you but I have to go! Argh! ALRIGHT HORACE. I KNOW. I HAVE BEEN MAKING SLEEPING DRAUGHTS FOR SEVERAL YEARS NOW YOU OVERGROWN TESTICLE. Love your sweet-tempered, loving and angelic girlfriend,Ginny Harry smiled as he thought of Ginny. She really was great. And it was moments like this when what he had done to her came flooding back into his consciousness, and he felt completely awful. Harry hadn’t been able to look Furio in the eye ever since that Christmas Eve party and part of Harry had even hoped that Furio had been too drunk to remember. But when Harry looked back on that night, he couldn’t remember seeing Furio drinking at any stage. All the same, Furio had made no acknowledgement of what had happened, and from what Harry could tell, he hadn’t told anyone else. None of it really made sense to Harry, but he didn’t really want to think about it too much. Especially as he had made the decision to tell Ginny when she got back from school. He would be thinking about it plenty then. He just couldn’t take lying to her anymore.Harry was pulled from his reverie as Teddy began to stir. Teddy called out for Harry in a very sleepy, sulky voice. Except Teddy wasn’t even two yet so it sounded like, “Hawie”, more than “Harry”. But Harry was still immensely chuffed, that his name was in this little boy’s vocabulary. Harry wished he was able to baby-sit him more.Harry scooped the currently green-haired boy up, and prepared to go out. He had to pick up the first part of Draco’s birthday present from Diagon Alley, and he’d promised George he would take Teddy into see him at the joke shop. If Harry, ever for a moment, forgot about the war, all he had to do was look at George. It was strewn across his face like a horrible painting. Harry had lost so many people, but he still had his closest confidants. The three people that mattered most to him in the world. And he was thankful for that everyday. But George … he had lost half of himself. How do you put yourself back together, when some of the puzzle pieces are missing?Still, George took it each day at a time. And none of the Weasley’s ever left him on his own. One of them was always in the shop with George. That day it was Charlie. They played with Teddy in the shop and customer after customer cooed after him, telling him how clever he was for changing his hair colour and the shape of his nose all the time. And when George joked that Teddy was the best salesmen he ever had, it was almost as if Fred was still there, and not buried in the grounds of Hogwarts. Almost. (()) The next day, Harry began his Auror examinations. The first of which was brewing a Sleeping Draught from limited, on hand ingredients. Harry instantly thought of Ginny and her tirade on Slughorn, and for a moment he was comforted. But then he thought of Furio being only three tables down from him and he completely lost concentration. His potion wasn’t completely ruined, though it was likely to only put already tired people to sleep.Harry went into a self-loathing, mental rant wondering what the hell was wrong with him and why he ever let a stranger do that to him. In a public place. With his girlfriend – his perfect, sweet, beautiful girlfriend only metres away. Even when Ron showed up with a massive grin on his face, and showed Harry three brand new Chocolate Frog Cards, with his, Ron’s and Hermione’s face on them, Harry remained unmoved. Ron continued to brandish them under his nose, exclaiming over how pretty Hermione looked and that it really was quite a good photo of them to, though he was sure he never waved at anyone so stupidly.Harry turned and snapped at Ron, “I don’t fucking care about any Chocolate Frog Cards!” And when Ron looked at him, hurt covering his features, Harry broke a little and his face crumpled as he tried really hard not to cry. “I’m sorry, Ron,” he squeezed out. Ron’s face changed to understanding. “It’s okay, we all have our moments.”Harry nodded his head and looked away. He watched the Transfigurations Teachers to-be on the lawn opposite the Auror Building. They were turning trees into seeds and back again. The sounds of their spellcasting were drowning out the screaming of Harry’s heart, but not the dull ache. (()) Harry waited in the hall of Azkaban, outside the visitation room. The warden stood at the end of the hall, turning all Dementors and correctional officers away. Harry was feeling slightly giddy. Such a rare emotion in him of late. He welcomed its presence.He had been in a dark mood since his snipe at Ron, and had been unable to get out of it. But when he woke up today and remembered what he was doing, he suddenly felt better. He thought the feeling might have been redemption. Eventually, Harry heard the sound of footsteps and light conversation, and then Draco and Ebenezer came into view. Draco smiled at Harry in that honest and open way that he had been doing lately. Harry found it annoying because it was contagious and he could not help but smile like that back. Though on this day, Harry smiled back even brighter than Draco had.“Got me a good present I hope,” Draco said. “Otherwise I think I’ll reconsider these little meetings.”Harry laughed. “It’s in the room on the table,” said Harry nodding his head toward the visitation room. “But seriously for a sec, I kind of organised something else for you too. It was a right pain and I don’t think I’ll be able to make it happen again but-”“Christ Potter,” Draco exclaimed, looking excited. “What did you get me? Rent boys?”Harry laughed again and so did Ebenezer, standing off to the side a little. And then suddenly Harry stopped. “Wait. Don’t you mean rent girls?”“You got me hookers?!”“What? No! Shit, Malfoy,” said Harry, moving toward the door. “Just look, will you.” Harry swung the door open and Draco walked towards it, his face full of humour. When he looked inside, it was immediately stripped. Standing inside, wrapped in a tight embrace was Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. They were completely ragged looking. The signs of the constant presence of Dementors in their lives were well and truly present. They were gripping each other with severe force, like they hoped that they could permanently imprint each other’s forms on to themselves. Then finally, after what felt like a lifetime, they spotted their son, watching them with a face of so many different emotions trying to break through, that it looked blank. “Mummy?” Draco said, in the softest, most heartbreaking voice Harry had ever heard him use.Narcissa open her arms wide and let out devastating cry as she jostled towards her son who met her halfway. They clenched each other tight and Lucius, weeping, moved forward and wrapped them both up. Harry felt like a horrible intruder as he watched this sight. He tore his eyes away and closed the door as quietly as he could. He stepped away and stood by Ebenezer who sported a knowing smile. Harry felt a little foolish. He wasn’t completely sure what he had been expecting the Malfoys’ reactions to be to their reunion, but that hadn’t been it. But as he thought about it, he realised that it could have been no other way. Narcissa and Lucius have been food for Dementors for ten months, with human contact being limited to their guard. And Draco, Draco was just a kid, under it all. Even though he was now nineteen. Of course it would be like this.Harry suddenly wondered if he had done the right thing. He had just wanted to help Draco. Make him feel better. Harry could only imagine the torture of knowing that your family was so close to you, yet completely unattainable.Harry had always lamented not knowing his parents, but sometimes he felt grateful that they had died before he could remember them. Sometimes, he thought it could have been worse, if he had known what he would have been missing. If he had completely understood what had been taken away from him.Harry was lost in his thoughts for some time before the warden whistled from his post, and then began walking towards them with two Dementors in tow. It had been twenty minutes. That was the most time that they could possibly give them. Lucius and Narcissa were not meant to leave their cells, after all. They had to be taken back.Harry took a deep breath and headed for the door. He knocked briefly before carefully opening it. They were all sitting atop the table. Draco was in the middle, being held from either side by his parents. All their pale faces were streaked with tears. Lucius’s and Draco’s grey eyes were shining and Narcissa’s blue ones were red. They were not talking.“I-” Harry gulped. Lucius turned his head to him, but the others remained the same. “I’m sorry.” Harry looked pleadingly at Lucius. “You have to go back now. I’m sorry.”Narcissa let out a sob and pulled Draco to her even tighter. But Lucius looked past Harry to the warden and Dementors. Ever the dignified one, he slowly pulled himself away, knowing there was no use in fighting. He kissed his son on the forehead, and then peeled Narcissa off him. “Come Cissy,” he said softly, calmly. Harry was relieved when she obeyed. Narcissa feasted on the sight of her son as she was led away from him. She was so full of pain, she could not speak. Lucius did though. “We love you, Draco.”Then they were gone. Draco stood, looking out the door where the warden and the Dementors had led his mother and father away. He was mute and still. Harry felt like crying, it was all so wretched. Harry didn’t think that he could convince the warden to this again. Had he just flaunted what Draco was never going to have, in his face? He could not speak for shame. Then Harry noticed that Draco had Harry’s birthday gift in his lap. It gave him the courage to speak. “I’m so, so sorry Draco …” he said quietly. Feeling rude for speaking in a place where such a thing had just transpired.Draco turned to Harry. Then he stood and Harry pictured Draco smacking him over the head with his gift. But Draco’s expression wasn’t aggressive, nor was it one Harry actually recognised. Draco moved forward to Harry and Harry flinched, anticipating the thumping he was about to receive. But Draco did not hit him. Instead, he bunched the front of Harry’s robes into a fist with his spare hand, lent forward and pressed his lips against Harry’s in a chaste kiss.Harry froze in shock. In that fleeting moment Harry could feel the softness of Draco’s lips, the wetness of his cheeks, the flutter of his eyelashes, and something began to almost … bloom inside Harry, before Draco had moved away and followed Ebenezer back to his cell. Harry ran his fingers over his lips, his head full of strange thoughts of Draco Malfoy. (()) Author’s Notes: Thank you AbundantFear, my beta. Especially for all the Psychobabble.--- AN APPLE FOR PENNY ---Hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. More coming soon! ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- THE VICTIM OF CIRCUMSTANCE (()) Author’s Note: Please don’t send rabid bunnies after me. I am very sorry this chapter is so very late. I was studying overseas and whatever it’s a long story let’s just get on with it, eh? (()) “Whatever you do, stamp out abuses, and love those who love you.” – Voltaire Chapter Five: Of Macbeth & Muggleborns 305 days after the Battle of Hogwarts It was several hours until Draco was finally out of tears. But he felt better for it. Like he’d cried out all his fears. Seeing his parents had been wonderful, but at the same time it had been scary. They were both so changed. Not just in the way they looked either. Of course they would be thinner and a little aged through all the stress, but that was not what scared Draco so much. It was this feeling that radiated from them. A sort of desperation. And a terrible sadness that their frail bodies couldn’t contain.So Draco was, at this stage, still undecided as to whether it was a good thing or not, seeing his parents. Though he imagined later on when he began to miss them even more fiercely, he would be grateful for the short reunion. He did feel relief. He did feel a slight lifting-of-burden. Like his worries about whether or not they were dead inside their cells and no one had noticed, or whether there was a guard doing to them what one did to him; all of that worry was alleviated. Draco took a deep breath and lay back on his bed. The birthday present Potter got for him sat innocently on his chest. Draco now turned his attention to it. It was wrapped in blue tissue paper and Draco thought, from the weight of it and its hard shell, that it was probably a book. He gently pulled at the spello-tape and a hard covered, gold leafed book fell out. Stenciled into the cover was one, evocative word: Macbeth. Draco had never heard of it. Still, he decided to give it a go. After all, Potter had got him that brooch. His taste couldn’t be all that bad.He was flicking through the pages with his eyes closed, enjoying the new-book scent, when suddenly he dropped the book back on his chest with a thud, and sat up quickly to attention. Oh my God. A lump of cold dread dropped in his stomach. I kissed Harry Potter. (()) Harry, Sorry it took me so long to write back, but I’ve been a bit busy with end of school crap. My mates and me went to Amsterdam for a few weeks. It was fucken brilliant. The girls there are fit like you wouldn’t believe. And I’ve just started working for Sparky. It sucks but it was that or working for Dad and I don’t like those office types. Anyway, we got your letter fine. Dad ignored it. Sorry about that. Mum read it but she said she wasn’t going to write back. Sorry about that too. But they’re both fine. They don’t talk about that time away from home. You know, when your lot was all fighting. The other wizards talked about you a lot when we were there. They said something about you being missing for a while, but they didn’t really seem worried about it. They talked about your school a lot and said that some of the kids were being hurt. I hope none of your friends were, you know, killed or something. Well, I better get going. Mum’s got tea up. It’ll probably be a couple of days until I can be fucked to post this, but if you’re ever in the area or whatever, let me know and we can grab a drink at Bridie’s or something. Dudley Harry put the letter down. His Auror exams were over and he was waiting on the results now, so he’d turned his attention to his N.E.W.T’s – Charms in particular – when Mercury, his eagle owl, came swooping through the open window with his cousin’s letter. Mercury must have taken it upon himself to go to the post office. The intuition of owls and their function always surprised Harry.Harry had no problems admitting to himself that he was astonished his cousin had written him back. Sure, he and Dudley had had a moment before Harry had left Privet Drive last year, if that’s what the awkward fumbling of thanks could be called. But he thought Dudley’s feelings towards Harry were merely less violent than that of his parents. Not altogether without violence.He folded the letter up and put it into his desk draw, making a mental note to maybe follow Dudley up on his offer for a drink sometime in the future. He let out a sigh and turned back to his work. He had immersed himself in his studies this day, in hopes of driving certain images of young, blonde men, out of his mind. For the second time in a short while, Harry was feeling like he’d betrayed Ginny. He knew that in this instance, he hadn’t really betrayed her, unlike with Furio. Draco had kissed him after all. And it had been fleeting. Just simple thanks. But that fleeting kiss had sparked more feeling in Harry than the seven minutes he’d spent in the bathroom with Furio. Thus, the feelings of guilt he was currently experiencing.Prior to The Draco Incident, as he was calling it, Harry had been resolved to tell Ginny the truth about Furio. But now he didn’t know if he should. How could he speak to Ginny about her feelings about another man getting him off at a Christmas party, when he wasn’t sure how he felt about it? He’d thought it was an accident. Not like he’d slipped on spilt milk and his dick had landed in Furio’s mouth – he wasn’t that pathetic. But he’d rather thought it had been a drunken mistake he had no intention of ever repeating. And then … The Draco Incident. Was he gay? He didn’t feel gay. He was attracted to girls. He’d been mad over Cho Chang and he loved sex with Ginny more than anything in the world. It all made no sense. He really wanted to talk to Hermione or Ron about it, to get advice. But what exactly would he say to them? Ginny was Ron’s sister and Hermione’s best friend. There was no room for objectivity. Harry heard a faint knock on the door which broke him out of his reverie and then Hermione entered in her pajamas. He steeled his features as she held out a coffee to him at his desk. Harry was constantly being surprised by how attractive Hermione had become, and continued to become. He had never thought her ugly, but he had never seen her as pretty or beautiful, and certainly not sexy. But in the last year, he had seen her as all at one time or another. And judging by the sounds that came from Ron’s room most nights, he wasn’t the only one. “You’re up early,” she smiled at him and sat on the settee opposite him, curling her legs under her. “And studying, no less.”He took a mouthful of the coffee; it was a little sweet for his taste. Harry adored Hermione but she had a habit of making things for other people – particularly food – the way she liked it and was always surprised when they didn’t share her opinion. He wasn’t up for the discussion though, about differing opinions and everyone’s counting and so kept drinking. “I’m glad I got you alone, actually,” said Hermione, looking pensively down at her own coffee. “I want your advice about something.”Harry looked up, thankful for the distraction but also curious. Hermione rarely asked the opinions of others, unless they had ‘Professor’ in their title. “Of course.”“I’d speak to Ron or Ginny about it, but neither of them could ever really understand where I’m coming from, being that they’re Purebloods. Plus,” she added with a little smile. “They’re both a tad immature.”She sat up a little and pulled out some parchment from the back pocket of her pajama bottoms. She stood up and placed it on Harry’s desk. His curiosity was peaked and he picked it up and opened it. It was a letter. Dear Miss Hermione Granger, We would like to congratulate you on your promotion last month, to Team Leader of the Dangerous Animals Welfare Division in the Department for the Control of Dangerous Creatures, Ministry of Magic. We have been observing your work for some time and have unanimously agreed that you would be perfect for our society. Your hard work for the welfare of all magical peoples, your academic achievements and you heroine status all make you a perfect candidate. We are the Muggleborn Magic United Society! I know what you’re thinking: At last! At last, indeed. We are all about the integration of Muggleborns into the magical community! We provide a place of refuge and guidance for Muggleborns. Right now, we are working directly with the Muggleborn community, but our eventual goal is to have our own department in the Ministry of Magic! Muggleborns make up 27% of the wizarding population (12% Purebloods, 61% Mixedblood/Halfblood) so it’s about time our voices were heard. We’d love you to join our society in making a better and safer community for Muggleborns. Our motto is “Never Again!”, because never again will we allow the ostracism and genocide of Muggleborns to occur, and we think your involvement could aid us in seeing our goals reached. Please join us for our fortnightly meeting at Tudor Hall in London, next Saturday evening (snacks and refreshments from six, meeting begins at seven, coffee and tea at ten). Looking forward to meeting you in person! Bettie-Mae Gent Founder and PresidentMuggleborn Magic United Society Harry put down the parchment and took a deep breath. “Intense,” was all he could think to say. “Are you going to go?”She looked out the window at the trees brushing against the glass. Mercury rustled his feathers in the corner. Ron and Hermione’s owls were out. “I’m torn. I want to go because I think it’s a good idea. But I’ve been hearing things around the Ministry.”“What kinds of things?”“All kinds of things. That they’re zealots is basically the gist. But when I asked Justin Finch-Fletchley in the mailroom about it, he said it was great. That they have fun melding their two worlds together, muggle and wizard, and that they’re just trying to make sure another Voldemort isn’t allowed to rise.”Harry sensed there was more. “But …”“But … well, you know. The road to hell is paved with good intentions and all that. What if we become the new bullies and Purebloods become the new ostracized minority?” “Wouldn’t that be awful,” Harry said sarcastically. “But seriously, I think you’re jumping the gun a bit. I mean, they hardly sound like terrorists.”Hermione looked thoughtfully at him. “I just don’t know if I want to be a part of any organization that only allows certain people to join.”Harry considered his response. “Assuming they are becoming zealots, maybe your logical presence is just what they need. If you think the ideal is correct, but you’re worried about the execution, maybe you should be around. To keep things calm and on task.”“Perhaps.” She put her coffee down and begun to wring her hands together, a nervous habit of hers. “I think I’ll go at least to this first meeting. Just to see what things are like.”Harry nodded his head. “Fair enough.”She meet his eyes and held them for a moment, her hands still wringing. “Can I ask you something else?”“Of course.”“Will you promise not to get angry?”Harry hesitated and realised that she hadn’t really wanted his advice about that letter, she’d had every intention of going to that first meeting. There was something else she wanted to talk about. “I s’pose,” he cautiously replied.“Be honest.”Harry frowned. “Am I ever not?”She wrung her hands again and Harry began to worry. Had she found something out about Draco? Had she found out he’d still been seeing him? Had Ebenezer Crick seen Draco kiss Harry and then spread it around Azkaban which resulted in it being spread around the Ministry? If so, Ebenezer was a dead man.“I don’t know how to put it. I think its rubbish, really. But I have to know…”Harry steeled his face again and said nothing, willing his face not to give him away. It seemed to fool everyone else, but Draco had told Harry that his face was transparent. Hermione took a deep breath. “Alright. I’m just going to say it. Alright. Here we go. Didfuriotheitaltiongiveyouoralsexatthatdormpartylastchristmas?”Harry shook his head, confused. “What?”Hermione gave a nervous laugh. “Okay,” she took a deep breath. “What I meant was; did Furio the Italian give you oral sex at that dorm party last Christmas?”Harry’s face unsteeled in shock. He could only imagine how big his eyes must have gone, or the red that must have just started colouring his cheeks. “Oh my, God!” Hermione gasped and threw her hands over her mouth.Harry clenched his fists and looked down. “How did you find out?”“Soumaya, the South African girl in your class,” said Hermione breathlessly. “She saw Furio drag you into the bathroom and … and … pull down your … trousers and … and, and start … you know! She closed the door when she saw and didn’t say anything for ages.”Harry was horrified. “So she’s started telling people now?”“No,” said Hermione, her eyes looking past Harry, completely shocked. “She’s nice. But I ran into her at the Ministry the other day and she told me because she liked Ginny and didn’t think it was fair if you were gay.” Hermione swallowed. “But if you were just “blotto” and didn’t know what you were doing, she didn’t want to ruin your life by announcing it to everyone. She thought I’d be able to help. I thought she was full of it. I thought she was mistaken.”Harry nodded his head and they both sat just sat there, not looking at each other. So someone new about him and Furio all along. And now Hermione knew. Harry couldn’t believe he’d ever considered telling Ginny about it. He was completely mortified. He’d rather face Voldemort again than be stuck in this study with Hermione, unable to look him in the eye. And then a few minutes passed and Harry’s heartbeat slowed down and he was able to form a rational thought. And then he was able to form a calculated response.“I’m not gay. I was just really drunk. I was going to tell Ginny about it, but then decided not to because it was one mistake and I love her and I don’t want to tell her just to ease my own burden or something.”Hermione took another deep breath and nodded her head. “You’re right not to tell Ginny then. But Harry, if I were you, I would never drink again.”Harry nodded his head. He was about to say something else when they heard the unmistakable footsteps of Ron coming down the stairs. He was a stomper.“Don’t say anything to Ron. This conversation never happened, okay? The thing with Furio never happened,” Harry looked intently at Hermione. She nodded her head in agreement and Harry breathed a sigh of relief and pushed all thoughts of Furio out of his head. The Draco Incident would not be so easily squashed though and Harry didn’t want to know what Hermione would do or say if she found out about that. Or worse, if she found out what went through Harry’s mind anytime he thought of it. (()) When Harry visited Draco later that month, he had successfully convinced himself that there had in fact been no Incident, and that he was being a complete nob. Draco had given him a thank you kiss for reuniting him with his parents, it was inoffensive and completely heterosexual and this is the twentieth century, men can kiss. Right?When Draco came into the meeting room, Harry had a newspaper in his hands. He held it up to cover his face and said nothing as he heard Draco sit down opposite him and heard Ebenezer close and then lock the door. He was ready with his first statement for the afternoon, when Draco interrupted him.“That book was fucking excellent. Well. That play was fucking excellent.” Harry took a deep breath and dropped the paper. “I know. Shakespeare knew his stuff.”Draco looked healthier than ever. His frequent visits to Erin McAvoy, psychologist to the criminally insane wizard or witch, and his friendships with Harry and, Harry suspected, Ebenezer, was doing him the world of good. It did nothing to quell Harry’s confusing thoughts though.“Yes, he did,” Draco added animatedly. “And I read about all his other plays at the back. This one play called Hamlet sounded hilarious too.”“Wait. What?” Harry laughed. “You thought Macbeth was funny?”“Didn’t you? I mean, the way Macbeth confused those hags for witches. And then when Lady Macbeth was ranting about being unsexed.” Draco began to laugh. “But the best bit was when those men carried shrubs and small trees in front of them to pretend to be part of the forest. And Macbeth’s conclusion, upon this sight, was that the forest was moving. I mean, naturally.”Harry couldn’t help laughing with Draco. “Can you just imagine?” Draco continued. “These grown men sticking bits of tree and bark to themselves and being all, ‘Aha! Now we’ll fool him for sure! He will most certainly mistaken me for a cherry blossom’ … what pillocks.”“I suppose it is kind of funny.”Harry and Draco continued talking about Macbeth and Shakespeare. Draco wanted to know what his other stories were like, but Harry had only read Macbeth and Twelfth Night. They then talked a bit about Draco’s psychologist sessions, until Draco became evasive and then changed the subject to what grades Harry was expecting from his Auror exams and his NEWTs, which he’d just finished, until Harry became evasive. They talked about everything and nothing and the whole time there was a massive, metaphoric elephant in the room, stamping its feet at them, demanding attention and not getting it. Harry proudly remained resilient. (()) Early Saturday evening, Hermione put on her most professional outfit, pulled her brown hair into neat twist, applied a little unobvious make-up, got her Mirror’s opinion (“Exquisite!”), ran into Ron coming back from a Canons game, had sex in the drawing room against the sofa, showered, changed into her second most professional outfit, straightened her hair, quickly threw on some foundation and mascara, got her Mirror’s opinion (“Nice and neat!”), ran into Ron coming out of the shower, had sex on the bathroom floor, looked at her alarm clock, swore at Ron for two minutes, had sex on the bed, showered, changed into her only remaining professional outfit, threw her hair into a ponytail as she asked her mirror’s opinion (“Like you’ve been shagging all day, you ninny!”), powdered her nose as she ran down the stairs, and finally arrived at Tudor Hall an hour and a half late.Tudor Hall was in the heart of busy London and was clearly not of wizarding design. It was a large, and stately, nineteenth century design, two floored hall with four function rooms and all rooms were occupied on that night. She ran past the receptionist when she rushed in, asking which room the United Society was in, as she’d seen them called on the board outside. The other functions were two weddings and an engagement party. The man laughed at her disheveled appearance and directed her to function room three. She ran up the stairs, her favourite pumps squishing her feet and finally burst into the room. There were around one hundred people in the room and every one of them turned to look at her. The room was set up a lot like the Hogwarts Great Hall was, except there were only two tables in the middle, and a small elevated table at the back of the room where a woman was now giving a speech, which Hermione had just unceremoniously interrupted.She blushed furiously. “Well now,” said the middle-aged woman at the microphone, wearing a plain grey skirt-suit and beaming at Hermione. “You must be Miss Granger. We are absolutely ecstatic that you could make it. Justin,” she said, looking down at the brown head of Justin Finch-Fletchley, “mark her off, please.” Justin smiled at her and pulled out a purple texter. Hermione nodded her head and blushed even worse; she ducked her head and quickly sat herself down in the closest seat available.“To continue,” the woman said. “We need to get as many Muggleborns to sign this petition as possible. And we need every Muggleborn in the British wizarding world in this society. That is why you have all been our first selected members. You are leaders in our community, and with your support, our dreams can be realised.”Hermione slowly began to catch her breath and took a look around her. The woman addressing the audience was undoubtedly Bettie-Mae Gent, and the other twenty or so people behind her, including Justin, must have been the first and founding members of the society. They all looked normal enough, but for one young woman who had her eyes closed and her hands were gripping the sides of her chair, her facial expression was oddly tense. No one else seemed to be paying her any attention.“What we have seen, and what we have experienced as Muggleborns in this world, no one else can ever understand. The persecution and struggles we face every day is like that of no other. We deserve to have our voice heard. And together, we are going to make it happen.”There was a general round of applause and Hermione lackadaisically joined in, only half listening. The young woman appeared to be of Asian descent, perhaps Chinese. She was pretty, with long black hair and smooth skin. Her eyes sported heavy eyeliner and she was dressed in black. Hermione looked around her again but no one seemed to notice the tense girl. She looked vaguely familiar to Hermione, but she didn’t know why. She looked away and turned her attention to Bettie-Mae, who appeared to be wrapping up her speech to more applause. Hermione again joined in. She inadvertently turned her head to where the tense girl had been sitting, but the girl wasn’t there anymore. Hermione saw a door in the back left hand corner closing and realised the girl must have ducked out. “Now, now,” said Bette-Mae. “No need for all that. Thank you though, thank you. Well, I think it’s time that we start getting into groups and get brainstorming, yes?”Hermione spent the next two hours being shuffled around into various groups, meeting and greeting different people. They discussed their worst experiences in school and then brainstormed the ways that these problems could be combated, they then discussed their experiences with blood purists and the ministry and again, brainstormed solutions. It all seemed “by-the-book” and harmless to Hermione. They invited her to their next function which was apparently going to be more fun and she told herself that she only agreed to go because she could not think of an excuse quick enough, but really she’d spent the whole peeking over shoulders and looking around exits for the tense girl, but she never reappeared. Hermione’s curiosity got the better of her and she was determined to track her down. Hermione went home that night, ate a scone that Kreacher had left out for her, drank a glass of milk, woke Ron up when she slipped into bed, turned him down for sex, fell asleep and then dreamt of the Department of Mysteries. The tense girl stood at the entrance to the Department, her eyes closed and her hand held out. (()) Author’s Notes: Thank you AbundantFear, my beta still after all these years and all these degrees.
10180304	Hurt	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Shiro (Voltron), Keith (Voltron)", "Fandom": "Voltron: Legendary Defender", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Luvyshka", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "571", "Additional Tags": "Bottom Shiro (Voltron)", "Relationship": "Keith/Shiro (Voltron)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“Doesn't it hurt at all?” asks Keith, looking at Shiro doing push ups off his knuckles. Keith is ten, Shiro is seventeen. Keith has never seen anything so powerful and beautiful in his life. Shiro’s eyes shine mischievously from under his ruffled black bangs, and his muscles start contracting faster. Keith is mouthing the numbers under his breath trying not to lose count.*“Fuck… You hurt?” Keith grabs Shiro’s hand covered in brown mud. Keith is fifteen, Shiro is twenty-two. They lying on the ground in the middle of the desert under Keith’s capsized hoverbike. Shiro is laughing and then grunting slightly, trying to move. Keith grips his hand tighter to help him get up.“It's not like it hurts,” grumbles Keith trying to push away Shiro’s hand holding a wet cloth. Keith is sixteen, Shiro is twenty-three. They are in one of the senior officers toilets of the Galaxy Garrison. Keith’s nose is all swollen, little streak of blood escaping from it, but his stuck-up classmate got it worse, so. Shiro shakes his head silently and Keith closes his eyes, leaning into the gentle touch.“Did it hurt?” asks Keith, his voice rough, tracing the seam connecting the living flesh with the smooth extraterrestrial metal. Keith is eighteen, Shiro is twenty-five. They are on an alien warship, billions of light years away from the Solar system. Something whirs in Shiro’s bionic arm when he curls his fingers into a fist. Keith wraps his arms around him and kisses the spot above his temple where overgrown bangs shimmer with silver.“Hurts? Well, too bad,” Keith says cockily, twisting Shiro’s metal arm harder still and pinning it behind his back. They are on the training deck of the Castle of Lions. “Huh,” Shiro says and throws Keith over his shoulder and onto the floor, holding him down with all his weight. Keith cups his grinning face with both hands and kisses him viciously on the lips.“Hurts?” Keith murmurs softly in Shiro's ear and squeezes his left arm just above the elbow where a huge purple bruise is blooming under the skin. They are in the Black Lion's cockpit. Shiro nods, corner of his mouth twisting up, powers down all the consoles and pulls Keith closer. Keith grasps his jaw and returns the kiss like a man starving.“It's gonna hurt,” Keith warns and licks his chapped, dust-covered lips. They are under the pale grey sky of an unknown planet in the middle of a rocky wasteland. Keith carefully presses a dressing pad to the horrible glowing wound in Shiro’s side. Shiro clenches his teeth and hisses, screwing his eyes shut. Keith whispers something and kisses his neck gently.“Does it hurt?” Keith asks, his voice rough and barely a whisper, mouth pressed against Shiro’s sweaty temple. They are in the Castle, on the floor of Shiro's cabin. Shiro covers his face with his metal arm but Keith takes it away and levels his gaze with Shiro's dark unfocused eyes. Metal fingers curls around his shoulder and a hoarse moan escapes open red lips. Keith gives a few soothing strokes to Shiro's ankle, resting on his shoulder, and starts moving. * Keith lets go of the Black Lion’s controls, powers down everything in the cockpit and drops his helmet onto the floor. “Shiro, it hurts,” Keith hides his face in his hands and balls up in the pilot’s seat.Keith is still eighteen.
10139783	Remember Again	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Potter, Severus Snape", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Mistress Vamp [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2006-07-06T00:00:00", "words": "910", "Additional Tags": "Out of Character, Alternate Universe", "Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Disclaimer: I'm not JKR. I wish I was, though. I am merely using the characters for my own twisted and perverted pleasures. I own anyone not from the HPverse. Inspired by Josh Groban's "Remember Me" from the Troy soundtrack. Mary Elizabeth Frye wrote and owns the poem used at the top. No copyright infringement intended. I needed it for my story.Authoress Notes: This is for Katie (quixotic_hope) who requested Harry/Severus; hurt/comfort/first time; Harry is insecure and he needs someone (Severus) to show him that he's worth something. Rating anywhere from pg-13 to nc-17. Thank you for answering my 'FmNbLe' song lyric challenge, love. I hope you like this. Beta: Shannon (shannon730 on LJ)Word Count: 676 ((Does not include -0-0- symbols or 'The End'))Written on: August 13, 2005POV's change between each -0-0-0-0- breaker.-----[[Do not stand at my grave and forever weep.I am not there; I do not sleep.I am a thousand winds that blow.I am the diamond glints on snow.I am the sunlight on ripened grain.I am the gentle autumn's rain.When you awaken in the morning's hushI am the swift uplifting rushOf quiet birds in circled flight.I am the soft stars that shine at night.Do not stand at my grave and forever cry.I am not there. I did not die.by: Mary Elizabeth Frye]]-0-0-0-0-"Papa?""Yes?""Why do we come and visit Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione's graves if it makes Dad sad?"75-year-old Severus Potter-Snape looked down at his 13-year-old daughter and smiled just a little. "Because it has been a tradition your Dad has done since their deaths, little one.""Oh, but why?" she asked with curious onyx eyes.Severus looked back at the figure of his husband kneeling next to the graves that housed the bodies of his friends. So often, he had wondered the same thing, but he never fully questioned his husband with such details. "He just does."13-year-old Hermina Jane Potter-Snape looked at her Papa then at her Dad. Tilting her head gently, she released her Papa's hand and joined her Dad. Kneeling beside him, she took his hand in silent comfort, biting her lower lip as neither spoke.Standing beyond the cemetery entrance, 17-year-old twin boys stood guard. Ronan and Ronny Potter-Snape were now in their seventh year at Hogwarts, and were true to their name. Much like their Uncle Ron, they had the fire-y temper of a redhead. They were troublemakers, but more often than none, trouble seemed to have found them wherever they went. They were as brilliant as their Papa, but despite their name and much to the annoyance of their Sire, both had ended up in Ravenclaw. After giving each other a glance, they left the entrance and soon stood at their Papa's side. Severus looked at one then the other, then graced his eyes upon his husband and their daughter. He led his twin sons to the stones and stood behind his husband. Reaching out carefully, he stroked his long fingers through the raven brown hair of his eternal mate, loving how unruly it was.Harry Potter-Snape, now 55-years-old, raised his head and looked up at his husband. Giving him a soft smile, he stood as he lifted his daughter. Kissing her gently on the cheek, Harry looked at his twin sons, who had inherited much of their Sire's characteristics, except the emerald green eyes on one and hazel with a hint of blue in the other. He winked and looked at their daughter, who was now in her third year at Hogwarts, and placed her on the ground. She had, much to their surprise, inherited nearly everything from Harry, except, of course, her bottomless onyx colored eyes. As the family stood together and looked at the three graves, Harry gave a tender smile. Hermina, who had vowed to make her Aunt Hermione proud since she carried her name, was the smartest witch in her year and the years below her. Having ended up in Gryffindor like her father, her uncle, and her aunt, she proved that not only was she the first Snape to be in Gryffindor, but she was, much like her brothers, a Potter-Snape.Together, even though they were four years apart and in separate houses, they were deemed Hogwarts new Golden Trio in honor of their father and their deceased Aunt, and Uncle. The twin boys were also very protective of their little sister. Their father often smirked sadistically whenever he heard Hermina's tales about how her brothers ruined a chance for perhaps a suitor to approach. They would have given the Weasley twins a run for their money; he was sure of that.Harry gave a small nod to the graves then looked at his husband and winked. Leading his family out of the cemetery and straight to their apparation point, Harry James Potter-Snape took one final look back and whispered ‘soon' to the ghosts that smiled back. Silently, the Potter-Snape family left the cemetery and would next return nearly six decades later to bury one of their very own.-0-0-0-0- On this day, the wizarding world lays Harry Potter-Snape to rest. His husband of nearly one-century, Severus Potter-Snape, their twin sons, Ronan and Ronny Potter-Snape, a daughter, Hermina Potter-Snape Stegar, and several grandchildren and great grandchildren survive him. May you rest in peace for all eternity, Harry. We will all miss you dearly.
10153499	Future Telling Device	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Shelly Marsh", "Fandom": "South Park", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-07T00:00:00", "words": "727", "Additional Tags": "Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Happy Ending, Short & Sweet, Childhood Friends, Stan gets very worried", "Relationship": "Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	After the original future telling device was destroyed and Butters returned no one bothered with solving the riddle. While no one was satisfied, no one wanted to get another one from the girls. But you see… Stan was not having it. It just didn’t seem right, to destroy the one thing that could open up the future. No matter how much the other boys tried to convince him. He just really need to know some things, that’s all. Shelly was babysitting him for the night, while his family was out of town. She was in a good mood, having gotten Friends on DVD as a form of payment. Stan watched from the stairs, regretting having suggesting destroying the device a few nights prior. Was there really a need to destroy it? As far as anyone knew, only girls knew where it came from. Girls… Girls… Girls? Wait… “Shelly?” Stan asked quietly, making sure not to piss off his temperamental sister. The girl tsked before looking at him. “What do you want, turd?” She muttered. She was clearly in a better mood, at least compared to her usual screaming. “Do you know, um,” Stan fumbled with his red poof ball hat. Jesus, this is embarrassing. Who knew asking your sister about future telling devices was so hard? “Do you know about fortune tellers?” Somehow Shelly seem to calm down, into a soft demeanor, the one she had before getting her braces. Shelly relaxed and pulled her legs to her chest, Stan took the gesture and sat down next to her. “Yeah I know how to make fortune tellers.” She said. “Can- Can you show me?” Shelly nodded and pulled a piece of printer paper and some scissors from a drawer. She passed another paper to Stan and began the steps, with Stan trying to keep up with the precision his sister had. She wrote the numbers one to four on the outside, colors on the inside and under the flaps words Stan didn’t see. Taking Stan’s horribly made teller, Shelly repeated the action. She slipped her thumb and index finger into the slits on the bottom and presented it to Stan. “Ask a question, yes or no.” Oh Jesus, this needed some thought. Good questions, good questions. “Will me and Kyle still be friends in the future?” Yes, great question. He pointed to four and Shelly moved the covers four times. He chose red and then blue. “Sorry, no.” Shelly read. Stan looked shocked before picking up his own teller and asking the same questions. He picked new numbers and colors, and got the same answer. “Uh, will we still know each other?” He asked and the teller responded, Definitely Yes. He thanked Shelly before running up to his room. He shut the door and tried again. Definitely Yes, when he asked if they’d stay close. Sorry, No when he asked if they’d be friends. Stan wracked his brain, what else could happen. Let’s see, Kyle could end up his brother in law, but they’d still be friends. “Will we still be super best friends?” Oh God what if the answers no? “‘Yes.’” Stan breath a sigh of relief. But the question remained, what else, what else. Maybe… Stan counted out two. Spelled out green. Pulled the blue tab. Definitely Yes. ...Woah. --- ...Woah. Years had passed, Stan and Kyle remained friends. Maybe the teller was wrong, it was rarely right in the years he used it. It was only good in knowing whether or not he would make something big. He made the football team all four years in High School, Kyle made basketball. And now it was graduation and nothing had happened that would affect their relationship. That’s not to say Stan wanted it to be wrong. Just maybe he wanted it to be right. He sat in the front row of the stage, watching and listening attentively to his best friends valedictorian speech. Soon they’d be off to Denver, going to the same college that offered Kyle a full scholarship for his athletic ability and flawless grades, Stan a partial scholarship for his athletic ability. Kyle finished his last sentence before returning to his seat. Everything else happened, yada yada yada. And as caps were being tossed into the air Stan was meet with a bear hug from Kyle. And a quick peck on the lips.
10192532	Your Call	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)", "Fandom": "文豪ストレイドッグス \| Bungou Stray Dogs", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Anonymous", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "728", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe, reaper au, Dazai is a reaper, Chuuya is on his list", "Relationship": "Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Anonymous", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Time to go, buddy." Dazai nonchalantly says as he taps Akutagawa's shoulder, who is still looking back at the scene of his own body laying cold and his grieving silver-haired lover.The ravenette's eyes softens at the intense sobbing and utterances of "No!" and "He's not dead!" coupled with a few repetitive "Please come back, don't leave me, Ryuu-kun!"The shorter man gestures to approach his living boyfriend one more time, but Dazai stops him by grabbing his wrist. "You know you can't go back, right? You might want to go and try, but your own body gave up on living. But hey, you tried your best." The Reaper didn't miss how the crease on Akutagawa's forehead increases, and how the deceased is suffering, he sighs. "Atsushi-kun, that's his name, right?" Dazai pauses, his expression softening. "He 's suffering because he can still feel your presence, he thinks that you're still here and he's right. As long as you stay here, the heavy feeling he's carrying wouldn't disappear from his heart." The ravenette turns to him, as if contemplating to believe him or not. Dazai continues, "You wouldn't want him to suffer anymore, don't you?"Akutagawa averts his eyes from the reaper, and unto the floor, then shifts his eyes to gaze at his beloved person one last time.With a final form of expressing his pain of leaving, the departed one tightens his hold, before relaxing as he nods. Turning away from the heartbreaking scene, he begins to walk forward, with a satisfied Reaper right behind him. •••• "Oi, Dazai." Kunikida tries to get the brunet's attention, "I see you have reaped Akutagawa Ryuunosuke's soul," Dazai groans, knowing full well what his co-worker is pointing out.The bespectacled man hits him on the head with compiled papers. "Write your report about it.""But Kunikida-kuuuun~" Complains Dazai, "Give me some rest! I have collected enough soul for today. I'm hardworking too, you know!" Kunikida closes his eyes whilst he massages his temples with his free hand, "Just because you're Fukuzawa-dono and Mori-dono's favorite, you're still not relieved of your duties to write a simple report on how your reaping went!"The brunet whines further, shutting both of his eyes and sighing in an exaggerated manner. "I knooow, just give me a few hours!" Having said so, Dazai started to hum his favorite suicide song, not that he can commit suicide or even die.Reapers aren't humans,They once were, but not anymore.Maybe a hundred years ago they walked the earth as normal beings, but most of them have been wiped out of their memories even. They have little to no recollection of who they were, what they were working as, and how they died as humans. Kunikida grunts in exasperation, before throwing the pile of papers on the table next to the couch where Dazai is lazily lounging around. "Maximum of your 'few hours' is three hours, nothing else.""Fine by me~" Chirps Dazai, gaining his innocent, child-like smile which only made the blond shake his head slightly.As Dazai started to hum his song once again, Kunikida prepares to leave him be, but not before reminding him of his new task."Don't laze around too much, you have a soul to reap next. See it as soon as possible."And then Kunikida left. The brunet cracks one of his amber orbs open to eye at the stack of papers waiting to be read by him. After mentally debating on whether to use his remaining hours to really rest or to start investigating this new person to be welcomed to death, Dazai finally choose the latter. Immediately sitting up and grabbing said file, the reaper nonchalantly flips the first page."Hmmm," He hums, gazing at the information laid upon him. "Nakahara Chuuya? 22. Male. Living alone, cause of death will be... Accident. Well, that's not rare." Though he expected so, Dazai was slightly taken aback by the lack of details on how the man will die.But he shrugs it off, continuing his inquiry. "Date of death will be... three weeks from now."Dazai snorts to himself as he throws the papers back to the desk. "This one will be easy~" Says the reaper confidently as he places both of his hands on his pockets. "Guess I'll investigate him for now~"Off Dazai went to the human world.
10139750	Bliss	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Potter, Severus Snape", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Mistress Vamp [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2006-07-06T00:00:00", "words": "1,561", "Additional Tags": "Mpreg, Out of Character, Alternate Universe", "Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Disclaimer: I'm not JKR. I wish I were, though. I am merely using the characters for my own twisted and perverted pleasures. I own anyone not from the HPverse. Spoilers: Books 1-6Authoress Notes: This is for Lightgoddess (lightgoddess) who said 'OMG! I want total fluff. giggles How about dominant!snarky!Harry, sub!sweet!Severus (yes, I think I like them completely swapping personalities lol), and definite MPREG, Sevvie of course. hee!! Otherwise, it can be a PWP or completely innocent, surprise me. If it's a PWP, I'd like to see maybe a blindfold used...or dirty talk...what the hell...Just surprise me I'm not too picky. lol!!' Thank you for the fic! I hope you like this. Beta: Shannon (shannon730 on LJ)Word Count: 1,412 ((Does not include -0-0- symbols or 'The End'))Written on: August 26, 2005-----"Severus.""What?""It can't be that bad.""It is.""Tell me.""No.""I'll find out anyway.""I know.""So why don't you just tell me?"Severus Potter looked at his bonded and sighed. Dare he tell Harry the truth? He wasn't sure how he would take it. After all, when he found out, he had fainted, chuckled, then had a full blown sobbing session that turned into Madam Pomfrey holding him and telling him everything would be fine. From that moment on, he cursed hormones.As he watched the concern on Harry's face, he sighed gently. There really was no point in getting away from it. He knew he had to tell Harry what he had found out because if he kept this from his bonded, it would mean punishment...and not the kind he liked."Well?" Harry said as he folded his arms.Severus sighed again and looked defeated. "Fine. Sit down then."Harry nodded as he took his seat, his eyes watched his bonded.Severus sat across from him in a chair and joined his hands together, his eyes just a little lowered as they were each time they spoke. "I went to see Madam Pomfrey like you requested earlier this morning.""And?""She knows why I haven't been feeling well."Harry lifted an eyebrow, knowing his beloved was stalling. "And?"Severus looked at him briefly then lowered his eyes again, his lips thinned tightly together. He mumbled something, speaking so low that Harry had to ask him a few times what he said. Finally, after mumbling it out several times, Severus just decided to blurt it out."I'm pregnant."Harry just stared at him, blinking his eyes as if he didn't understand what was just said. "Excuse me?"Severus hesitated. "I...I'm pregnant.""Pregnant?""Yes.""And...you're serious?""Yes.""As in...pregnant?"Severus glared at him then lowered his eyes quickly before Harry could respond. "Yes."Harry just watched him. "How?""How?""Yes.""How what?""How did you end up pregnant?""Now see here, Potter," Severus spat as he looked at him. "If you don't know what it takes to get pregna...""Severus."Severus stared at him then lowered his eyes, his voice shaky. "My apologies.""Accepted," Harry responded quietly. "Now, I know what it takes to end up pregnant, love. I was there, after all. I just want to know how you ended up pregnant. Male pregnancies are rare."Taking a very soft breath, Severus kept his eyes on the floor in front of him as he tried to keep his voice steady. "According to Madam Pomfrey and Headmistress McGonagall, it is possible for a wizard to achieve pregnancy if the father, or sire so to speak, truly wishes to have an heir with the dame of the relationship."Harry smiled a little then set his thin lips back in place, keeping his eyes on Severus. "Go on.""Although the pregnancies are rare, they are more likely to be achieved in a Dominant/submissive relationship...""Like ours, yes?""Yes."Harry nodded and smirked again before he looked serious, making sure he kept his eyes on his sub the entire time. "Severus.""Yes?""Kneel."Without hesitation, Severus knelt before Harry with his eyes still lowered on the floor. Harry smiled at his sub, his eyes twinkling happily.Harry slid to the floor and opened his legs, offering his hand. Severus took the hand and Harry gently pulled him against him, wrapping him in his arms. Giving a contented sigh, Severus laid his head on Harry's shoulder, his eyes shut and his hands instinctively over his stomach. Harry kissed his head gently, whispering soft words into his ear. As Severus listened, his eyes started to droop even if he didn't want to sleep. Harry smiled even more when just a few seconds later, he heard snoring.Taking advantage of his sub being asleep, Harry watched the pale face that he had grown to love much more than anything or anyone, even his family. He gently raised a hand and brushed Severus' hair out of his face, his mind going back to the moments when they had first come together.Harry had known since his seventh year that he loved Severus Snape. Even after Severus had killed Professor Dumbledore, Harry's trust in his bonded never wavered. He knew that for Snape to kill the one man who had given him strength and had truly trusted him, there was a dire reason for his actions. After another year, Harry had graduated from Hogwarts and had started to finish his search for the Horcruxes that he needed. When Ron Weasley spotted Severus just outside of London, Harry had decided that now was the time he needed to make things known and did his own search for him. When he had found Severus, what he found was something he had never expected; Severus Snape was living like a muggle in a world that he didn't really understand. Not only that, but he looked like he had been delivered to the hands of Satan and thrown out because he wasn't even worthy to be a demon. Once Severus had realized he had been spotted, he had tried to hide, but Harry had forced his way into his home and finally into his heart. He, Severus, would never admit that he had needed Harry in his life. After all, he was Severus Snape, feared ex-Potions Master, evil Death Eater, and murderer of the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts had ever known.Over the course of another two years, the two faced Voldemort together and defeated him, along with everything that would make sure Voldemort wouldn't rise again, with the exception of Harry himself. After the final battle and the ending of the war, the two had become somewhat companions and much to everyone's surprise, best friends.By the age of 21, Harry and Severus had taken their relationship beyond friendship, and much to Harry's surprise, Severus' true personality wasn't the one he had portrayed during Harry's seven years at Hogwarts. In truth, Severus was the person opposite the one Harry had always known. He loved nature, animals, and he was a poet. This was something Harry had truly loved about the man. When Severus had come to him with the prospect of a Dom/sub relationship, Harry had taken great care in reading everything he could and learning about it so he would do everything right. He understood this was something important to Severus and Harry, much like anyone else who truly loved their partner, would do anything to make him happy.And now, after seven years of being in that relationship, Harry Potter was now going to be a father. Harry smiled at the fact and as he looked at his husband, the man who had made him feel so alive like no other had done, he knew Severus was going to be even more special to him than he already was. He truly loved this man and the idea that his bonded was pregnant with his child, was beyond amazing to him.Moving just a little to bring the pillows from the chair he was in, Harry placed them behind his back and got comfortable. He accio-ed a blanket from their room then transfigured Severus' robes into a pair of silk pajama bottoms and top, doing the same with his own robes. He kissed his beloved bonded gently and smiled into the fire.Harry sighed and chuckled, holding Severus tighter. Before he realized it, he was in full-blown laughter with tears of joy falling from his eyes and over his cheeks. After a few minutes of laughter, he opened his eyes and found himself starring down into endless black orbs, smiling as wide as he could. Severus looked confused with one of his elegant black eyebrows toward his hairline. When Harry suddenly laughed harder, Severus didn't know what to do, so he did the only thing he thought; he kissed him. Harry returned the kiss then pulled back and chuckled a little more, his eyes glittering. Severus watched him carefully then as he opened his mouth to speak, Harry growled happily and crushed his mouth to his.Severus moaned just a little then when Harry pulled back, he sighed. Harry just smiled and made him cuddle a little more. Severus yawned loudly then promptly fell back asleep, leaving Harry fully awake and full of pride. When Harry looked back down at Severus, he understood one thing. Life truly was nothing, but bliss.-----The End
10124243	Cough It Out	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Graffiti Pete, Sonny (In the Heights), Usnavi", "Fandom": "In the Heights - Miranda", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "2,633", "Additional Tags": "Lmao this isn't even fluffy, I can only write angst and smut so I mean, I Tried", "Relationship": "Graffiti Pete/Sonny", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The smell of vanilla extract and flour drifted into Sonny’s room with the current from the building’s open windows. On any other day, the smell would have drawn him out of his room to see what was cooking. But today, all he did was shove his head under his fluffy pillow to ward off the offensive smell. Unfortunately, the smell stuck in his room like a wad up piece of gum under his shoe and made his stomach turn. He had woken up this morning with a horrible fever. To make matters worse, the blackout hadn’t been fixed overnight. He pulled the blanket closer to his chin and sniffled. Usnavi didn’t know that he was sick yet. If he found out, he would end up treating him like more of a child than he already does, so Sonny was as discreet as possible. Well, if you can call not leaving your room at all “discreet.”The soft light coming in through his window seemed all too bright for his pounding head. He half-heartedly glared at the window, as if his curtains would shut with just the sheer force of his annoyance. Apparently, they wouldn’t. His head throbbed in retaliation and he screwed his eyes shut in an effort to stop the pain. There was no medicine in their house, and he couldn’t ask Usnavi to pick some up for him. If he did, Usnavi would just put a hand on his forehead and try to make him soup (one of Abuela’s recipes) that would be “sure to cure him.” It’s not that Sonny didn’t appreciate it. It’s just that he would rather not spend his last dying hours being coddled like a toddler.A sudden rapping on his window made Sonny’s eyes open in surprise. He blinked quickly, trying to adjust to the lighting. Outside of his window stood Pete, crouching on the fire escape with his backpack over one shoulder. Sonny shouldn’t have been surprised, really. After last night, it wasn’t a shocker that Pete would come to check on him. He wanted to see him, he really did, but he was in his pajamas with a noteworthy case of bedhead. Plus, he was a sniffling mess and he felt like any sudden movements would cause him to hurl. Quickly, Sonny shut his eyes again. Maybe if Pete thought he was asleep, he would come back later, when Sonny wasn’t moments from death. But, just as soon as he closed his eyes, Pete tapped on the window again. Damn it, busted.Sonny groaned and kicked his blanket off of him. Slowly, he stumbled out of his bed, taking a moment to regain his balance after all of his blood rushed to his head. He didn’t make an effort to fix his hair or straighten his shirt. He was going to look like utter shit either way. Sonny shuffled to his window and pulled it open. “What?” he muttered, sounding awfully congested, as he turned away from the window to lie back down. The sound of Pete climbing into his room followed. “You look fucking terrible,” Pete noted, dropping his bag onto the floor. He turned around to shut Sonny’s window again. There was a reason that Pete had to sneak into Sonny’s room, and he wasn’t trying to get caught. Of course, that reason’s name was Usnavi.“I feel fucking terrible,” He replied weakly. It was okay if Pete knew that he was sick. Pete was his boyfriend, and a caring one at that, even if he didn’t act it in public. Sonny climbed back onto his bed and leaned against the headboard. He pulled his blanket over his lap in an attempt to get comfortable again. Pete furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head like a lost puppy. “How fucking terrible? You’re flushed, babe,” Pete commented. He walked over to the bed and crouched down on the floor. Gently, he placed a hand against Sonny’s cheek and pursed his lips. “Burning up, too.” Sonny scrunched his nose up in distaste. “Pretty fucking terrible. I’m freezing, but then I’m hot. It’s like purgatory or some shit,” He complained, leaning into Pete’s touch. Another hot flash twisted into him like a hot spear and he moved his legs from under the blanket. Pete ran a hand through Sonny’s hair. “Does Usnavi know? Should I go tell-““No, don’t,” Sonny interrupted him shakily, “I’m already feelin’ nauseous, but I’ll really be sick if he starts babyin’ me.” Sonny moved away from Pete to sneeze. “I’m dying, Pete. This is the last you’ll ever see of me, make it count,” he whined through sniffles. Pete rolled his eyes.“Don’t be dramatic, it’s just a fever. Unfortunately, I’ll probably be seeing a lot more of you,” He said. “I won’t tell Mommy Usnavi, but will you at least take some medicine?” Pete tried. His heart took a beating at every little sniffle.Sonny closed his eyes. “Don’t got any,” he muttered. He blindly reached out to grab Pete’s hand. “I’ll be fine, really,” He told him.Pete scoffed. “Bullshit. I can go and grab some medicine from your guys’ store,” he offered.Sonny shook his head. “Nah, man. Usnavi wants your head on a stick,” He said, gripping Pete’s hand a bit tighter.Pete let out a small laugh. “Can’t kill me if I’m willingly handin’ over cash,” he pointed out. Sonny laughed weakly.“Fine, but I’m coming with you, just in case he comes at you with a baseball bat,” Sonny insisted, finally opening his eyes again. A sudden chill shook his body as the rapid hot-cold cycle continued. He winced and pulled the blanket back over his legs.Pete shook his head quickly. “No, you aren’t. You’re staying in this bed until you can speak without sounding like you’re being strangled,” he ordered. He wasn’t a doctor by any means, but it didn’t take a PhD to tell when someone needed bed rest. Pete dropped Sonny’s hand and stood back up. “I’ll be right back, okay?”“Fuck off,” Sonny groaned, standing back up with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “I’m coming with you. See? I’m well enough to go,” He said, pulling the blanket tighter around him discreetly. Pete raised a disbelieving eyebrow.“Well enough to go to a hospital, maybe,” Pete drawled. In reply, Sonny gave him his best glare. Pete raised his hands in defeat. “Fuck, you’re in your pajamas, man,” he pointed out, trying to convince Sonny to lie back down.“I co-own the bodega. I’ve gone in there in worse,” Sonny countered. “Besides, the store is literally downstairs,” he continued. He tried to look serious, but his nose was red and his curls were going in every direction, so he looked more adorable than the previous. Pete ran a hand down his face and sighed in defeat.“Fine, whatever. Won’t Usnavi see that you’re sick, though?” Pete asked.Sonny shrugged. “I can be a pretty good actor,” he replied.Pete nodded slowly. “Yeah, that could work if he doesn’t look at your face, or hear your voice, or notice that you just rolled out of bed. Better yet, if he doesn’t notice you’re there at all. We can easily accomplish that if you would just lie back down,” he said, nodding at the messy bed.Sonny blinked slowly. “I’m fine. Vamos,” He said weakly, leading the way out of his room.“If you were fine, we wouldn’t have to be buying you medicine,” Pete muttered under his breath, but he followed Sonny out anyways. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get Sonny back into the bed.Sonny shuffled down the hall slowly with the blanket wrapped tightly over his shoulders. It only took thirty seconds before he regretted his decision of leaving his bed. His stomach flipped dangerously and he grimaced. It would definitely be hard to hide from Usnavi if he hurled on the floor. Pete walked behind Sonny, matching his pace. Usually, he hated slow walkers. They were his worst pet peeve, even if they were senile. But, he wasn’t annoyed by this slow walker. He looked like he could crumble like a fucking biscuit if he moved too quickly, and Pete’s chest was getting hit by a semi. Gently, he placed a hand on the small of Sonny’s back and gave him an encouraging smile. Sonny just sniffled in response.The walk down to the store was in comfortable silence, only an occasional sneeze or sniffle breaking it. Pete kept sending worried glances to Sonny. He chewed on his lip worriedly. “You know you didn’t have’ta come,” he said softly. Sonny tensed his back.“Usnavi would just kick you out of the shop if I ain’t with you,” he explained. Another chill shook his body. “Fuck, someone has to turn on the goddamn heat,” he complained, his voice wobbling slightly.Pete’s face melted into one of concern. “Babe, it’s the middle of summer, and we’re in a blackout,” he said. The heat was intense, and Pete would kill for a cold water. He wrapped an arm around Sonny and pulled him close. “Let’s just turn back, okay? He won’t kick me out without ya,” he tried, slowing down their pace. Sonny just shook his head and continued to walk forwards. Pete sighed. Well, he couldn’t say he didn’t try.Together, they came down the stairs leading into the store. The place was practically empty, only a customer here and there, due to the fact that most of the products had gone bad once the blackout cut off their refrigeration. The early light washed the store in a soft brightness and the sound of coffee brewing greeted their ears. The scene was too peaceful for their situation. The few customers in the store glanced up at them as they descended, but paid them no real mind. Pete chuckled, they must be used to Sonny coming down in pajamas. The floor of the shop was cracked and chipped from years of use, and the walls were showing obvious signs of wear from repeated repainting. But, the shop was homey to all who stepped inside, whether it be from the familiar smell of coffee or the welcoming environment. Pete moved his arm away from Sonny and scanned the shop for Usnavi.“There,” Pete whispered, pointing towards the cash register where Usnavi was making small talk with the man who ran the liquor store. Sonny stood on his tip toes to glance over Pete’s shoulder at him. “Okay, let’s do this,” Pete muttered. He took Sonny’s hand and walked out into the open. Sonny straightened his back and cleared his throat in an attempt to seem healthier than he really was. They made it approximately five steps before Usnavi noticed them.“Sonny! You’re late! Three hours late, to be exact,” Usnavi called to them without taking his eyes off of the items he was scanning. He glanced up quickly and rolled his eyes. “Three hours late and in your pajamas, too,” he noted, continuing his work. Sonny stared at him blankly for a moment, the illness causing a bit of a lag in his reflexes.“Right, yeah, I was, um, busy, you know, cuz?” He stuttered out. Pete rolled his eyes. Right, he can be a “great actor”. He placed a hand on Sonny’s shoulder and gently moved him aside.“Sonny was just working on some summer homework upstairs, man,” Pete supplied. Usnavi looked up at them with narrowed eyes. If Pete didn’t know any better, he would have compared him to a soccer mom who just caught her son stealing cookies from the cookie jar.“And he couldn’t tell me that himself because..? Wait, better yet, why were you upstairs with him? Hell, how did you even get upstairs?” Usnavi questioned. Sonny was swaying slightly where he was standing and Usnavi eyed him suspiciously. “You know what,” he continued, “I don’t want to know. I really don’t. What do you want, Pete?” Usnavi badgered. Sonny looked between Pete and Usnavi. The plan seemed to be working so far: Usnavi wasn’t hovering over him like a worried mother and Pete wasn’t sitting on the curb outside. Unfortunately, his head was still pounding and his eyes were watery, so if they could hurry this exchange up, that would be fantastic.“Do y’all sell fever relief medicine here?” Pete asked, looking at Usnavi’s forehead rather than his eyes. Usnavi gave him an unimpressed look.“You don’t look sick. I’m not going to sell you medicine as some sort of drug substitute,” Usnavi said. Pete’s eyebrows shot up. That was just offensive; He had never done drugs in his life! He was just about to tell Usnavi off against his better judgement when a sniffle from behind him reminded him of the cause he was working towards. He breathed in deeply and sighed before coughing into his elbow.“I am sick,” Pete insisted, trying his hardest to sound congested. Sonny muffled a laugh behind him and Pete kicked his ankle, faking a sneeze to cover Sonny’s yelp. Usnavi pressed his lips tight together. Behind Pete, Usnavi could clearly see Sonny’s red nose and flushed cheeks, never mind the pajamas and blanket. They really must think that he’s stupid. Usnavi sighed and shook his head.“Yeah, okay, Pete. Sonny, go back upstairs. I’ll bring you some medicine and soup on my break. Pete, go home for god’s sake,” he ordered. Both Sonny and Pete’s faces dropped at the same time.“Good going,” Sonny muttered under his breath. This was it. He was on his death bed and the last thing he was going to see was Usnavi babying him. Pete looked over his shoulder and gave him a sympathetic look. Sonny now had downcast eyes to accompany his downcast look. It hurt him to see Sonny look so downtrodden. This was Pete’s idea, and his fault, so he was going to get him out of it.“’Navi-““Don’t call me that,” Usnavi interrupted. Pete nodded quickly.“Usnavi,” He corrected himself, “Mira, I can watch Sonny, okay? I won’t kill him, you know that,” He offered, putting on his kindest voice. Sonny looked up at him appreciatively.“I’m not worried about you killing him. I’m more worried about what other…stuff you guys would be getting up to,” Usnavi explained, grimacing. Truthfully, he wasn’t actually worried about that. He just needed any reason to get Pete out of his building. “I know you wouldn’t kill him. Because, if you did, I would string you up by your toes and feed you to the pigs.”Sonny scoffed. “Cuz, I’m on my deathbed, here. The only action I’m going to be getting is from running to the bathroom to fucking hurl. Just let him stay, please?” He asked with a trembling voice. Pete made puppy dog eyes and looked to Usnavi, who threw his hands up in defeat.“Fuck, fine. Just…don’t do anything stupid,” He nagged. “I’ll be up to check on you guys, too, so you two better be in there. I’ll bring you your medicine, too.”“That lack of trust hurts,” Pete said sarcastically, mockingly putting a hand over his chest. Sonny rolled his eyes and grabbed Pete’s hand to pull him away from the counter.“Let’s go before he changes his mind, Pete,” he said. He dropped Pete’s hand abruptly to sneeze into his elbow. “Sorry,” he muttered between sniffs. He avoided eye contact with Usnavi so that he could pretend he didn’t see the concerned look he threw at him.Pete shook his head slowly. “Don’t be, mi corazón,” He said sweetly, “Come on, let’s go watch a movie so you can sleep.” Sonny smiled shyly up at him and led the way back to his room, sniffling the whole way.
10173176	Photograph	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Isak Valtersen, Christoffer Schistad, William Magnusson, Eva Kviig Mohn, Eskild Tryggvason", "Fandom": "SKAM (TV)", "Language": "中文-普通话國語", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by emlary", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "6,802", "Additional Tags": "Canon Compliant, Blackmail, Chris Being A Bad Boy, The Untold Truth Behind Chrisak Secret Meetup In Chris' Car, And Why Chris Followed Isak On Instagram Earlier Than He Did With Eva, Also Why The Hell A First Year Non-Penetrator Member Was At The Penetators-Yakuza Fight, It All Started With A Photograph, Fluffy Ending", "Relationship": "Isak Valtersen/Christoffer Schistad", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“听着William，我知道你急于帮我们几个报仇。但这事得从长计议，不是往Yakuza的人头上砸几个酒瓶子就完了。”Chris试着安抚自己的好友，身为Penetrators的二当家，他有责任在老大头脑发热时拦下对方冲动的行为。“难道你不想往那群以多欺少的混蛋头上砸酒瓶子？”“操，当然想。不过这事我们得做得干净些，你懂我的意思？”在William的逻辑里，谁拳头硬谁就是弗鲁格纳这一带的扛把子，为此惹的事两只手都数不过来。上周末William开着保时捷在外面泡妞，他们哥仨则遭遇Yakuza的伏击，起因还不是William之前打了他们的人。不过既然都是兄弟，谁也不会计较这些前因后果，有事一起扛。Chris也想把挨的拳头还回去，妈的，那群混蛋知道他是出了名的少女杀手，还专门打他的脸，半边熊猫眼快三天了还没消。仇要报，重点是不能留下会让警察在事后追踪到他们头上的电子指纹。这就意味着不能打电话，不能发短信，更不能通过社交网络联系。至于躲避摄像头这种老问题，有时在热闹的地方确实比较困难。“中间人？他妈的打群架还需要中间人？”临近暴走状况的William显然没听进去他的话，Chris不得不耐心地继续解释。他必须说服老大这事得按老方法来办，即使有些东西听上去感觉像20世纪初的纽约黑帮那么老土。盛怒的入侵者总算找回一些理智，William问他有没有办事机灵又能信任的人选，Chris望着教室楼下走过一群叽叽喳喳的一年级，忽然眼前一亮——“放心吧，包在我身上。”说到机灵，没人比得上那个小家伙。可别被他俏皮的金色卷发和小鹿般清纯的绿眼睛迷惑了，一年级的Isak Valtersen可是刚上高中就干了一票大的。作为当事人之一，Chris也是花了好久时间才搞清事情的来龙去脉。他问过Eva，为什么Isak当时得知他俩勾搭上的小秘密不直接去跟Eva的前男友告密，或者以“朋友”的身份劝Eva“自首”。“我之前也疑惑过，你猜怎么着？这么多年来我算是白认识Isak了，那小子简直太狡猾了，我真的输给他。他说，要是我主动承认错误，相当于坦白从宽，Jonas心一软多半就原谅我了。必须通过敌人的敌人把事情闹大，满城风雨的舆论压力下，就算Jonas还念旧情，也不可能再跟我交往了。”“敌人的敌人？”“噢，你大概还不知道。那小子啊，好像暗恋Jonas好久了。我是他的情敌，Iben是我的情敌，这不？利害关系的食物链就连上了。”饶是Chris从开始长毛就在脂粉堆里混迹，也愣了几秒钟才弄清Eva说的利害关系是指什么。仅凭八面玲珑的一己之力，就拆散了两对令人艳羡的情侣，妙哉妙哉！他的惊叹换来Eva诡异的眼神，他倒不在乎。能想到这一招可真不简单。等到Eva走了他才反应过来另一件事，那个叫Isak的小子喜欢男生？机灵搞定了，剩下的就是要乖乖听话。毕竟要帮他们办事，必须对Penetrators有绝对的忠诚，这种“品质”在他们的小圈子之外不太现实，所以Chris要做的就是找到Isak的把柄，剩下的就好办多了。Chris看着镜子里的自己，天生的桃花眼自带放电；蜿蜒的眉梢一挑，姑娘们就会脸红心跳；要是再拿出招牌式的邪魅笑颜，不好意思，男朋友都可以退场了，因为他们的女朋友十有八九会选择投入Chris的怀抱。别忘了他帅气的发型，不止一个女孩说过想用手指抚弄Chris放荡不羁的金色发缕。哪里有把柄呢？他翻了翻手机，相册里花花绿绿的照片在指尖飞快地闪过，停下来时刚好有一张单独留在03/2016文件夹里的照片映入眼帘。Chris突然灵感闪现，既然没有把柄，那就去创造把柄。+不管在哪个平行宇宙，Isak都不可能预知答应跟Eva去参加Penetrators的派对会是对方二当家亲自设的局。他本来没什么兴趣，三年级最受欢迎的Russ帮派根本不会把他们这种一年级放在眼里。女孩们就不一样了，Magnus听说Vilde也要去就缠着Isak陪他去，拗不过只好答应下来。“来吧，兄弟。说不定有二年级甚至三年级的辣妞就喜欢你这种小甜豆。”饶了他吧，Isak只觉得头疼。他需要许多、许多的酒才能抵消这场无聊的派对浪费的时间。还不到九点，Isak脚下已经有点飘飘然了，一定是在顶层橱柜里发现那瓶龙舌兰酒太带劲了。他完全可以抱着酒瓶一个人呆一整晚。“哇噢，这可不是小孩子应该喝的酒。”感觉到一双强壮的手从他怀里把酒瓶夺走了，Isak这才抬起头，迷离的眼神半天才找到焦点。他认得这张俊美的脸，上学期把Eva迷得七荤八素、最终酿成大错的绯闻男主，臭名昭著的Penetrator Chris。“还给我……我才不是小孩子。”“那你是什么？小猫咪？”伸出去抢酒瓶的双手像猫爪子一样扑了个空，指尖落在对方胸口，一路滑往下。他该不会在做梦吧，那件该死的紧身黑色T恤下的手感好极了，真想扯开薄薄的布料，好让他摸个够。还有教训自己时露出侧颈上一颗圆圆的痣，Isak想知道用牙齿咬上去是什么感觉，或者只用舌尖舔舔，男生的汗味让他可耻地有点硬了。可惜他醉得根本没注意到对方嘴角微扬的弧度。“Isak，你知道地道的龙舌兰酒该怎么喝吗？”为什么三年级会知道他的名字？管它呢，只要有酒喝。他歪着脑袋盯着Chris的动作，只见他从冰箱里取出一颗柠檬，等分切成八块，随意地撒上盐，接着含了一块在丰盈的唇间。Isak着迷地注视着对方被柠檬汁沾湿的嘴唇，没来由地口舌生津，好想舔一舔。而Chris好看的眉弓显然正有此意，轻轻向上一挑，像是赌他敢不敢去咬那块酸涩的柠檬。他抓起被放在桌上的酒瓶，灌下一大口紧接着就凑了上去，清凉的柠檬和Chris火热的嘴唇混合成奇妙的酥痒感，烈酒也不再辣喉咙。那块柠檬掉在地上很久了，Isak发觉自己仍然流连在三年级的唇舌间，汲取每一滴清新的汁液。他甚至没有意识到自己的动作就像在跟对方索吻，他只是停不下来。“还要吗，小甜心？”“要，唔……”他不知道一整颗柠檬以及一整瓶龙舌兰酒何时耗完的，只觉得中途酒气上涌，浑身燥热不堪，不自觉地伸手撕扯Chris的衣服，想要贴上对方微凉的皮肤，哪怕只有一丁点儿清凉也是极舒服的。当Isak顶着剧烈的头痛被手机吵醒，他才发现自己睡在陌生的床上，刚抬起手臂就碰到一个温暖的“东西”。“宝贝，你不再睡会儿吗？”天杀的Penetrator Chris光着身子就躺在他身边！这他妈的到底是怎么回事？Isak闭紧眼睛，颤巍巍地拉起被单，屏住呼吸往里面偷瞄了一眼，该死，他连内裤都不知道被对方脱到什么地方去了。昨晚，昨晚一定是……炮火连天。酒一下子就醒了。Isak抓起散落在地毯上的衣服，顾不上腰酸腿疼，几乎是连爬带滚地逃离了Chris家。操，他跟三年级最帅的男生睡了。按说应该是他赚到了，但他后悔的是因为醉得太厉害不记得自己和Chris之间具体做了些什么。然而周一午间一条来自陌生号码的短信就打破了他的幻想。“你的帽子周末落在我床上了，3点45在学校后门见，你应该认识我的奔驰。P.S. 我更喜欢你什么都不穿的样子，有照片为证。”+William因为放学后送Noora回家来得有些晚，进门时Penetrators的老大顿了一下，眼神在Isak Valtersen和二当家之间不解地游移。他也是刚刚才知道金发男孩的名字。那天和Noora在车里争论要不要见他哥的无聊问题，女孩的注意力突然被前面Chris的车吸引了。在Noora的指点下，他才看到自己的二当家车里多了一个陌生的小家伙，两人还像哥们一样握了一下手，三年级跟一年级有什么事非要在放学后没人的停车场单独谈？“Chris准备把这里办成托儿所。”Borkis在一旁打趣，指了指整个房间里唯一的一年级。这番调侃让男孩看起来有些局促，眼看他手忙脚乱地拎起外套、围巾和书包起身要走人，却被房间的主人拦腰抱着挡住了去路，过分亲昵的姿势让那张白净的小脸上泛起点点红晕。“你们都给我闭嘴！Isak需要参与我们的作战计划会议。”“说得好像他那小胳膊小腿会打架一样……得得得，我闭嘴还不行吗？”William Magnusson从五岁就认识Christoffer Schistad了，从没见这个撩天撩地连顽石都撩得化的花花公子对另一个同性这么上心过。傍晚一群大男孩在Chris家的地下室为复仇的事争论不休，迷你冰箱里的啤酒全被搬出来了。小家伙想拿一瓶，却被主人伸手拍掉，吓得缩了回去。这还不是最诡异的，等到Chris从楼上专门拿了一瓶汽水下来，William眉头皱得快和那天女友看到Isak偷偷上Chris的车时有一比了。真是活见鬼。别以为他没看见两人在咖啡桌下面贴在一起的大腿。一年级的小鬼大概因为没酒喝一直不高兴脸，不动声色地往另一边挪，而他那位向来情场得意的二当家则不知廉耻地一个劲往人家身上靠，看起来真肉麻。过了一会，Isak大概受不了Chris的毛手毛脚，起身说要去院子里透口气。William拉过好友，低声问：“你该不会对人家……”油头粉面的家伙立刻举起双手否认，声称他什么都没做，还说Isak是这次联系Yakuza的最佳人选，他叫Isak来真的只是“公事公办”。“你们坐着，我去打个电话。”说完人也没了。要不是Noora发消息说有事要他立刻去一趟，William真的没想到自己对Chris十几年的认知会再次受到挑战。他刚离开地下室，就看到两个人影靠在一楼的阳台上，Chris摸出一卷大麻，点燃吸了口就递给Isak，男孩的眉头这才舒展开，大大方方地接着抽起来。熟练地吐出几个烟圈后，嘴角上扬弯成两个迷人的小括号。William还在考虑用漂亮来形容同性是否妥当，自己的好友居然就凑了过去，男孩别过头，不知是害怕还是娇羞，以往战无不胜的花花公子似乎只亲到人家嘴角。“我已经答应帮你们联系Yakuza了，你怎么还……唔…”这次入侵者没有再失手，捏着对方的下巴亲个正着，“我喜欢你尝起来甜甜的汽水味。”Isak退无可退，后背抵在栏杆上，仰着头被Chris吻得双腿发软，三年级不得不托住男孩纤细的腰，下半身看起来快要擦枪走火了。隔着一个客厅的距离，William都能听到他们激吻的水声，啧啧啧，好个假公济私的二当家。“TO CHRIS: since when u need weed to bang chicks? oops, in this case, a smol bean. u that desparate, huh? ”“TO WILLIAM: SHUT UP WILLIAM.”这俩人到底什么时候搞上的？如果这么问Noora，会不会被女友嫌他太八卦？后来据其他几个哥们反应，这几天Chris天天都和一年级的小鬼粘在一起，接他放学，然后在Penetrators碰头的地方厮混到晚上，再送他回家。Isak很少插口他们的讨论，但偶尔他会问一些关键的问题。到周三时，他们已经准备好了万全的作战计划。William好奇等周五事情结束后，Chrisak还会继续下去吗？完了，他已经被Noora带歪了，虽然她说Chrisak这个名字是Eva取的。+Eva打死也不信她在IG好友动态页面看到的新提示。“isakyaki started following chrisschistad”她刷新了好几遍，提示依然存在，点进Chris的个人页面，确实也能看到followed by isakyaki的提示。她立刻给Noora发了截图，好友却说他们可能只是朋友。别开玩笑了，在哪个平行宇宙一年级的男生会和三年级最受欢迎的Russ帮派的二当家做朋友？她不甘心，又把截图发去给Eskild，自从上次意外跟不知道名字的男生在Eskild客厅的沙发上睡了一晚之后，她就和Noora的室友成了无话不谈的好闺蜜。很快打字已经跟不上他们开脑洞的速度，连上Skype后，两人没聊几句就开始尖叫。“我就说！他俩绝对有一腿，Noora还不信！”“那当然，我看那个Chris的IG上都是自拍，就他那自恋的小样，绝对是钙没跑！”“看吧，现在他们用IG勾搭上了，天啊，你能想像Chris在私信里给Isak发那种照片吗？啊啊啊！”“噢噢噢！春天来了，万物复苏，又到了美丽的男孩们搞基的时节。”Eva被Eskild故作深情的搞笑台词逗得哈哈大笑。不过接下来的问题却有点意外，“Eva，我听Noora说你上学期和这个Chris……你不介意吗？”为什么要介意？没错，她是亲过Chris，还闹得全学校都知道了。那个三年级有着最柔软的声音和嘴唇，同时也是最危险的狩猎者。Eva至今都忘不了万圣节和Chris共处一室的情景，年长的男生画着浓烈的哥特妆，比派对上所有的女生加起来还诱人，唇边有两道象征吸血鬼的血痕，以血封印的禁忌让人忍不住想触碰的冲动，仿佛被对方吞噬也在所不惜。一时的放纵让Eva付出了惨重的代价，但如果让她重新来过，她依然会选择闭上眼睛体验跟Chris接吻的快感，谁让那一晚她就是受到致命诱惑的夏娃。第一手的经验，再加上她对Isak的了解，一年级的小处男怎么可能是Chris的对手？虽然她百思不得其解两个完全不相关的人是怎么扯上关系的，反正自从Noora跟她讲了两人放学后在Chris的车里私会，Eva就想像了无数种可能。她就知道，Isak这种蛇蝎心肠的小基佬绝对会被大神级的人物收了，也好，Chris接下这份重任，省得他再祸害人间。至于Eskild说的介意，Eva撇撇嘴，她承认自己是有那么点小嫉妒，被三年级最帅的男生追这等好事谁不想要？但她已经接受了过去，人要向前看，她也不再纠结一两次的露水之情。何况亲眼看到两个英俊的男生在一起是一件超养眼的事好吗？这点上Eskild真是她的知己。白天她和Noora还目睹了Isak和Chris在学校操场上假装擦肩而过，却偷偷跟对方比了一个暗号似的手势。她总算知道偷情的快感了，女生能说脏话吗？操，想像Chris关起车窗、Isak在奔驰后座被三年级的男生这样又那样的画面，真他妈太辣了！“Nai nai nai. I don't mind at all. Just imagine Isak rides Chris on the backseat, fucking himself on the older boy's thick cock. Poor little thing can't even walk straight the next day, still feeling Chris inside him every fucking step. But he has to lie about walking gingerly to his buddies.”“Oh girl, that's freaking hot.”朝Eskild眨眨眼，Eva已经决定了，周五的巴士派对上，她会再次对Chris出手，如果Chris拒绝她，Chrisak这对就算坐实了。+“不行，我要是加了你，Eva她们会看到的。再说了，你IG上不是自拍就是前女友，有什么好看的。”见小男生皱着眉头一副不情愿的样子，Chris却一点也不生气。他就喜欢逗Isak，以那一晚的照片为名逼小家伙做各种事，大到帮Penetrators联系跟Yakuza的世纪之战，小到在IG上关注自己，或者……放学后在车里偷一个吻，都能让Chris有一天的好心情。决战之日终于到了，郊外的地点是他挑的，但利用巴士派对做掩护、同时方便事后快速撤离现场则是Isak的提议。他看上的人当然不会错，连开始将信将疑的William都对这个意见拍手叫好。与此同时Chris也有一丝不舍，过了这一晚他就没有理由再把Isak绑在自己身边。他答应对方事成之后会当着面把照片全都销毁，有次Chris还故意逗Isak，问后者要不要看他俩的“床照”，对方又变成那天晚上他在厨房里发现的小奶猫，一言不合就上爪子，后来被他压在地下室的门上亲到嘴唇发肿，才乖下来。要是真的就好了。约定的时间之前，派对先要嗨起来。Chris也叫了Isak，可男孩说什么都不肯去，只说到时间会通知他的。派对上他一直放不下心，按说Yakuza的人知道Isak只是中间人，不会对他动手，但一想到呆会混战Isak也会在场，心里就说不出的担心。连Eva的主动投怀送抱也无法让他分心，手机在橙色的Russ工装裤里刚开始震动，他就立刻推开女孩，按下接听键。Eva瞄了一眼来电人的名称，表情古怪地朝William的妞奔去。Chris无暇顾及那么多，他嘱托Isak离Yakuza的人远点，叫上William和兄弟们就往外面冲。从William往对方首领头上砸碎的第一个酒瓶开始，这就注定是一场血腥的缠斗，女孩们都看傻眼了。与此同时复仇的刺激感让他们几乎感觉不到肉体上的疼痛，挥出去的拳头如同雨点般密集，所有人都无可避免地被卷入进来。Chris看见刚还站在外围的Isak忽然出现在他右边，男孩一个踉跄差点没站稳，原来是混战中被Yakuza的人打了。他立刻把小家伙护在身后，朝那个袭击Isak的混蛋一个飞腿，对方便应声倒地。回头刚想看下他的男孩有没有受伤，“Chris，小心！”后背遭到偷袭，简直钻心的疼。但他仍然强忍着，选择了出拳还击，三两下就解决了卑鄙的对手。Chris这才拽着Isak往人群边上走，他得让男孩赶紧离开这是非之地。“我不走！我死也不走！”小家伙到底知不知道自己在说什么，Chris一时想不明白。正在两难的时候，又有Yakuza的人朝他们扑过来，Chris不得不出手应战，但这次他决不让Isak离开自己的视线。结果当然是Penetrators大获全胜。Chris除了那次后背被偷袭，并没有什么明显的大伤。William载着其它几个伤员去了私人诊所，老大离开前望了一眼紧紧抓着他帽衫的Isak，“Go get a fucking room, will you?”Isak一下子就脸红了，Chris却无心调戏对方。他知道这一天总要来的，开车送Isak回家的路上，男孩关切的小眼神不时瞟往他这边，他们一句话都没说。“你，你想跟我上去吗？”这是Isak第一次主动，但这不是什么情窦初开的少年邀请心上人去自己房间的电影桥段。Chris用床照对男孩的“敲诈”和“欺压”即将结束，他不知道现在上去还有什么意义。“我是说你可以喝杯咖啡什么的，或者茶。我室友有好喝的中国茶，名字叫什么雪，里面有白色的茉莉花瓣……”看着男孩几乎语无伦次的紧张样，Chris只好把车停在路边，跟着对方上了楼。周五晚上合租的公寓里一盏灯都没亮，显然Isak的室友们都出去玩了。男孩径直带他走向自己的房间，完全忘了喝咖啡，或者喝茶的借口。“Isak，听着，这事解释起来有点复杂。我能……靠在你床上吗？抱歉，我的后背还有点疼。”小家伙背着手站在门边，朝他点点头，但没有靠近他。Chris明白他想和自己保持距离，认命地掏出手机。“Isak，我对你撒了谎，事实上并没有什么床照。我只是……”“你骗人！不然那天我怎么会，没穿衣服…和你睡在一起？”Chris挣扎着又站了起来，他不能忍受和Isak隔得那么远说话，这让他觉得自己更像一个混蛋。他拉起男孩的手，想好好跟他说话，却被对方用力甩开了。“Don't fucking touch me.”他打赢了架，却输掉了心。“I wanted to, so bad. But I never did.”隔了许久，Chris才低声说出事实的真相。从用一颗柠檬勾引Isak喝下整瓶龙舌兰酒开始，到为Isak清理呕吐物，不得不脱掉衣服拿去洗，“你可能不相信，等我回来你已经光着身子倒在我床上睡着了，我只能帮你盖好被子。你可真是个折磨人的醉鬼，好几次翻身手脚打在我身上，害得我都不敢动。然后就是第二天你醒来看到的情形，我发誓我没有动过你一根手指头。你可以仔细回想一下，你回家除了宿醉的头痛，身体还有别的不适吗？”Isak迷茫地摇摇头，很快男孩又想到什么，“但那并不代表……你没拍那种照片。”他无奈地叹了口气，把手机递给男孩，“解屏密码是2121。”小家伙手指上下翻滑，找不到“床照”还是不依不饶，“你可以把它们藏起来，iCould或者Gmail什么的，谁知道你有多少账号。”“Issy，我真的没有……”要证明一个东西不存在怎么就那么难呢？“等下，”男孩打断了他的话，“这是什么？”原来Isak发现了03/2016的文件夹，里面只有一张照片。那是今年新学期开始的一个下午，三年级的课程已经所剩无几，准毕业生们都忙于准备巴士之旅，Chris也不例外。他直接翘课，在去更衣室的路上经过一年级的教室，不晓得是谁留了一扇窗，午后和煦的春风穿过教室，吹得人暖洋洋的，心情如同窗外的云朵轻飘飘的。他一扭头，看到一个金发的男孩独自坐在教室的最后一排，杵着下巴仿佛在思考一道难题。是谁浪费大好的春光，还留在这儿读书。等到Chris换好衣服从更衣室折回来，他忍不住又朝那间教室望了一眼，男孩还是坐在靠窗边的座位上，只不过这下他已经趴在厚厚的教科书上睡着了。灰色的帽衫被拉起来盖住他的小脑袋，可总有几缕不听话的卷发从边上冒出来，在午后阳光的笼罩下，就像路旁开过花刚刚冒出新芽的挪威枫，嫩黄的叶鞘包裹着这一年的新绿，即便在沉睡中也显得娇俏可爱、生机勃勃。在Chris意识到自己在做什么之前，他已经用手机捕捉下这个画面。从那之后，这张少年酣睡的照片就一直留在他手机里——直到他发现那惊鸿一瞥的小家伙就是他要找的Isak Valtersen。“这是我手机里唯一一张你的照片。如果，让你觉得不舒服的话，你也可以删了。”Chris说这句话时，才意识到那张照片已经深深地印在他脑海里了。他在等待Isak对他审判，经过这几个星期的谎言、骗局，任何结局都是他应得的。“真是的……把我拍那么难看，还逆光。”入侵者惊讶地抬起头，男孩脸上又露出了狡黠的笑容，将手机递还给他。他再次小心地试探着牵起对方的手，这一次，Isak没有推开，而是和他十指紧扣。“Chris，你的解屏密码为什么是2121？”“因为你的生日和我的生日都是21号啊。”“谁信啊，就你这点水平，我简直怀疑你都是怎么泡到那些妞的。”“没关系，反正我已经泡到一年级最可爱的男孩。”Isak主动吻他时，Chris还紧握着手机，不小心碰到Home键，才发现那张独一无二的照片已经被男孩设置成了手机壁纸。
10170101	One Shall Suffer	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Barry Allen, Jay Garrick, Joan Garrick", "Fandom": "The Flash (TV 2014)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by trufflemores", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "1,832", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Speedsters Supporting Each Other, 3.15, The Wrath of Savitar, reaction fic", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Caitlin asks if it hurts.Not as much as this, Barry thinks, as Joe, in tears, walks away.Not as much as this, Barry thinks, as Iris, in tears, walks away.Not as much as this, Barry thinks, as Cisco, silent, walks away.Not as much as this, Barry thinks, fading, as Julian walks away.It hurts so much he wants to throw up, he can't breathe, he can't think, has to actively strangle the panicking dying exhausted pleading hurting fleeing tormented animal within him, his arms trembling with the exertion, please, please pass out, please just die, just let it—let it go, let it go—you lost, you lost, you lost.Caitlin leaves. Barry closes his eyes and lets the animal win.He yells and they ignore him because they are good people and they know they cannot help him. He screams at the top of his lungs to dissipate the clawing aching swelling miserable pain in his chest his shoulder his collarbone oh God he felt it drag across bone and flesh and blood and he never wanted to feel it again never wanted to feel again he was going to throw up to die to do something other than exist. He rages and howls and roars as loud as his lungs will let him, as loud as the pain screaming in his side will permit, and take it out take it out take it out ple-e-e-e-e-ease.He exhausts himself, and wakes up hurting, without a voice, without a friend, without even something to take his pain out on. He takes the same panicking yelling sinister immutable animal and he breaks its neck, one clean blow, and he pushes himself to his feet even though he's literally choking with it, the simplest action unbearably painful. God, he's never – even Zoom, there's – he couldn't feel it when Zoom snapped his back, it just, it was gone, everything below the waist was gone and he couldn't feel and he wishes Zoom would snap it again except this time aim higher and maybe just shut him down forever.He limps towards the cortex instead. It's empty, and quiet, except it's not really empty, just ghosts occupying their stations. HR sips from a coffee that's been empty for five-hours. He doesn't say, "Hey, BA" or offer a conciliatory remark. He doesn't make eye contact with Barry, like he's half-afraid of him, and maybe he should be, because Barry is an animal underneath all of the flesh and blood and bone that breaks, an animal that is made of Speed, and that can become Speed, and that Wally—Wally.He sees Jesse sobbing into a sweater and knows it belongs to Wally and he limps over and he cannot make it all the way, not if he wants any more strength, and she never looks up, never sees him, like he is truly a ghost and they cannot hear or touch or see him and I am so so so so so so so so so sorry.He watches Joe leaning catatonic over a computer console, Cisco at his side, and does not inquire about Iris' whereabouts. Thinking about her for more than six seconds hurts worse than the literal and actual fire burning deep in his shoulder his chest oh please dear God please I need put it out Speed please help me.This is what Wally is suffering, he thinks, because it's not just physical torment, it's the mental break, it's the actualization of his greatest fears. Iris walking away, Joe's son taken away, Wally, fuck, fuck, fuck.He limps to the suit and absolutely no one stops him. Caitlin is gone, too, he notices, and he thinks it's a tremendous oversight or a mercy kill. If you die from this, her absence almost says, it would be kinder.He doesn't pull the suit on. It protects him from getting broken, but there is a tear in it, a massive hole where, were his heart on the opposite side of his chest, his life would have left him.He crumples in front of it, and for the first time in an agonizing time, he weeps, openly, full-throated, anguished tears that wail in the room because I didn't save anyone.They can't even tranquilize him to shut him up, just painfully aware of the pain he projects, and he wishes he could put it in a bottle and send that bottle to the bottom of the ocean, but like a bottle it bobs back to the surface, and he is too weak to hold it down. He notices after an indeterminate time that he cannot even stand, his few attempts futile, devastated by the force of his own grieving.I am so fucking sorry, he keens, and no one hears him, or they pretend not to, or something middle place between where he is comatose and the world is still almost normal.He gets himself back up and there is a presence there, and for a moment he turns and the tears in his eyes turn almost relieved because Dad, Dad, Daddy, but Henry is not there, and the cold aching feeling in his chest sinks its claws in deeper.He takes off and no one goes after him.The Speed Force feels ugly and impure and awful and heavy and full of him, overflowing of his pain and anguish, shouting it back at him like he is twisting the broken bones and setting fire to his skin, and he cannot yell so he runs instead, runs until he's so numb from it that it stops hurting, runs until runs until runs until…A face looms out of the darkness, a hand on his good shoulder, and he is so sore that even that much hurts, and he curls inward, and Jay Garrick says, "C'mon," and Barry turns and presses his face against the gravel. "C'mon," Jay insists, and he gets his hands under Barry's arms and it hurts it hurts stop please, but Jay doesn't, just hauls him to his feet, and Barry shuts his eyes and wakes up in a home he does not recognize."Honey," Jay calls, and inquisitive steps pad down a staircase, and Barry cannot tense, has no control over his shaking limbs, but a handsome, aging woman arrives."Oh, sweetie," she croons, and Barry tries to walk away because I don't – I can't – this isn't – Then she hugs him and it hurts it hurts why does everything hurt, his heart is breaking, Savitar was wrong, he did kill him, and Jay Garrick introduces, "Barry, I'd like you to meet my wife, Joan."She doesn't look like Nora. He doesn't know if that makes it better or worse.Better, he decides, as with unexpected strength she takes him from Jay's hold and helps him limp across the hardwood floor. Better, as he descends with stupefied cooperation onto a scarcely used mattress in a cool guest bedroom, the last child they've had in this home in a long, long time, if ever, he doesn't know, never asked. He can't find words, can't explain, can't stop shaking, can't stop the tears, wishes he could unplug his own heart if that would turn off the pain, and she sits beside him as he weeps into her pillows, rubbing his back.Jay returns at some point and Barry isn't crying but it doesn't matter because his heart is still bleeding and then there's a hand on his shoulder and something indefinably warm sweeps over him, a soft beach wave that rolls down and presses the pain down to something approaching manageable. He exhales and Jay's Speed rises and falls with his chest, and he feels cool fingers retreat and know he's taken a lot out of Jay and he wants to apologize but the crushing fatigue beats him to it.When he awakens, he doesn't know where he is, but there is something big and warm and breathing beside him, and he curls a hand in a furry coat and feels something in his chest loosen. The – Newfoundland? – whuffs in his face and he takes hold of its collar and sobs into its throat. The dog whines softly, sensing his distress, and Jay is back, but this time he just sits beside Barry and says, "Barry."He has Dad's voice, Barry thinks deliriously, Dad, Dad, Dad, and then he says, "I need you to tell me what happened," and the house of almost believable cards collapses.He doesn't look at Jay, tries to make it easier by talking into a fur-covered shoulder instead, and somehow what he says makes enough sense for Jay to sigh knowingly."The Speed Force is a terrifying thing," Jay begins, and Barry can barely focus on his words, but he tries to. "It's like … if Divine were a motion, instead of a noun. Something you did, but not something you could … touch, or see, or discern from other objects.""You seem to know a lot about it," Barry croaks mindlessly."I've been around twice as long as you've been alive," Jay reminds. "I've learned a few of its tricks. And I know that… you can and will get your friend back. Because the Speed Force does not take what isn't is."Barry rolls gingerly onto his back and oh, oh, oh. He grimaces and holds his breath, waiting for the throbbing to slow down, to stop tormenting him.Once it's down to a level that doesn't actually crack his teeth, he manages, "How do I get him back?""Jump in," Jay says, "and swim. Try not to drown."Barry presses his face against the mattress for a second, sick, actually sick, at the thought of trying to challenge the Speed Force to get back Wally."You will find him," Jay insists. He encourages Barry to sit up with a hand under his shoulders. "C'mon. I oughtta take you back; your family will be worried sick.""Where are we?" Barry asks, unable to help himself, whining between his teeth when he sits up."Earth-34, I think you'd call it," Jay replies. "So, for you, quite a ways from home. But don't worry. We'll be back in a Flash."He gets Barry to stand and puts an arm around his shoulders carefully. "You're a good kid. Don't let Savitar take that away from you. Hurt, but heal, too. Come back stronger."Next thing Barry knows, he's standing in the grass just outside the city, watching it stir towards morning, and oh, oh, oh, he's sore, he's so sore and he deserves it, deserves to feel this way, but he also – he also deserves to feel strong, dammit. He deserves to be who he is, to be able to do what he does, to help people.I am The Flash, he tells himself with every step towards Central City. I am The Flash.And he will be absolutely damned if he lets Savitar take Wally away from him for good.
10142837	Alloy and Element	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Kaiba Seto, Isono \| Roland, Scientists, Kaiba Mokuba, Yami Yuugi \| Atem", "Fandom": "Yu-Gi-Oh!", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Nemi_Thine", "chapters": "2/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "3,503", "Additional Tags": "Science, KaibaCorp, Dark Side of Dimensions Spoiler, TRANSCEND: GAME Spoiler, Mutual Sugar Bae AU, Fancy Atem, Oh god I hope I can get far enough along that the pairings apply, send help", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Kaiba Seto/Yami Yuugi, Kaiba Seto/Mutou Yuugi, Kaiba Seto/Mutou Yuugi/Yami Yuugi", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, M/M, Multi", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Seto Kaiba looked out over his VR testers. It had been his vision which he had forged into reality; egg-shaped helmets that incubated their ideas and brought them to life, joined their minds together in something safe and joyful.But of course, it really didn’t. He had failed. This wasn’t bringing a fantasy to life. Oh yes, they were all quite pleased with the visions bestowed, but they were just…daydreams. Turning life into fantasy. In exchange for being able to share with more people he had taken a step backward from SolidVision.And it could kill them. If any of them had the will to reach as he had. Well the firmware update should take care of that, but it was just another step backward towards the death of his dream.Not that the protection was vital in any way. Most people just didn’t put forth the effort to achieve what they could. Seto didn’t understand that, didn't understand how people could just not exert themselves. Yet every day he lived with the idiocy of people, shoving the evidence in his face. He could accept it as fact and move on to lowering the barriers between them so what tiny bit of effort they could be assed to put forth could do something.But whatever they did would be in the realm of mind, and incapable of changing reality unless they had the will to do so. It had taken all their minds, all their wills, strapped to his to even attempt to transcend the game, this reality. For the first time since he was a child Seto Kaiba had discovered a limit to his mind. He would transcend the pathetic meat model he was stuck using—“This is a farce,” he said turning and stalking away, “Shut it down.”“But Sir! This is--”“Unworthy of the Kaiba Corp name.” Still, he did try to acknowledge the work and opinions of his subordinates. It did take effort on his part, however. “Throw it to one of the subsidiaries. They can release it to silent discos next year.” A thought bubbled up from restless connections. “Get someone to work programming a more mundane VR world and release it to hospitals and elderly care in three months.” “But sir, why?”Seto Kaiba smiled, “I have a better idea”—and he already knew how to do it.--Quiet steps fell in line behind him as he stalked away from the testing room, “Sir.”“Isono,” Seto acknowledged, “What do they have you begging after me for this time?”Isono had been with him since the beginning, the nigh unflappable bodyguard was confirmed to have killed in the line of duty and carried his handgun close. Still, he was more approachable than his boss, a seventeen-year-old boy (who now also carried a gun, not that many knew that.) “They wanted to know why you were angry, Sir.”“Idiots, what do I even pay them for? Do you remember when I invented the VR tech, Isono?”“Under your predecessor, Sir.” Delicately stated for a delicate subject. Or it would be delicate for lesser men, Seto Kaiba was never going to let that man hurt him again. Even his memory was being ground down to nothing with every step Seto took into the future.“Exactly, to rely on such is a step backward for our company. I’m not going to make some fantasy world for people too weak to reach out for their goals with their own two hands!”The shifting of material as Isono adjusted his tie. “If you would forgive me for saying so, Sir, that sounds awfully…Randian of you.”Seto scoffed. “I’d thank you to never compare me to that hack who’d wouldn’t know formal logic if it bit her goddamn eyes out. The only thing of value in her works are door stops and the ideal of achievement that can change the world through dedication.” He dipped his head slightly and seemed to stand straighter, pride, or perhaps to hold up the sky. “It’s true, though. I may be a ‘Randian Genius,’ but I’m no Ubermensch,” the hard foreign words were perfectly pronounced, glaring in the more sublime Japanese. “I am not the best anymore, my mores do not make for happy people, and I have no love of this world.”“Sir,” and now Isono sounded offended. “You have contributed so much to the sciences! To medicine, even now doctors are using your technology to diagnose patients and do surgery in hospitals you built! Because of you there is a whole new field of art! On top of all that you are an incredible philanthropist!”There was a line of Seto’s spine and shoulders, more an impression in the air than something that could be traced with the eyes. It relaxed ever so slightly under the praise, under the life-saving reaffirmation of loyalty. “Which is liable to make me the worst sort of devil in that philosophy. I pay well Isono, because I want things done and I want them done right. I pay taxes because I like civilization. I pay for what I want, Isono. Most people are too stupid to do so. Most people are too weak to reach out with their own two hands and pull themselves into the future. “Look at my workers, Isono. They aren’t as smart as me, they aren’t as competent as me, and a mere handful are as driven as me. I answer their questions, I give them the tools.” Seto Kaiba half turned, brilliant as one of his dragons, “Fine then! Virtual Reality is a farce! I will make the tools to change reality and put it into their hands!” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The boy was brilliant, and Isono had to keep reminding himself of this.He was a boy, no matter how tall, how brilliant, how impossible, he was still a child.Isono just wasn’t certain if he was human or not. Gozaburo hadn’t been certain either, not after a few months, not after a year. What That Man had done should have killed that little boy, and it all but had, though the body had churned on. When he should have been broken, he kept going, when he should have been dead, he crumbled.He was still crumbling, Isono thought. He was still crumbling, everyone knew if they spent a modicum of time around him, paying attention. Too much abuse, too much everything, even the very thing that still gave him joy, that still let him be a child was a source of pressure and loathing.Isono had many jobs, he was butler and bodyguard, advisor and assistant. Seto had been his charge since nearly the moment he had been adopted.Everyone knew he was brilliant when Gozaburo had brought the boys home. The whispers rushed out, circled like mist and whirlpools, the Master had been defeated in chess by that slip of a boy.(Shht. Don’t say it too loud unless you want to retire .)He had been a clever child.(He probably cheated.)He hadn’t needed to cheat.(The Master must be kind and generous.) A brilliant child. Glories flowed, bled, from the font of Seto’s head, even as a newly adopted child. Blood was staunched by dragons, gifted in drips and drabs, each one paid for in pain and murder. Clever targeting systems, ignition systems. Newer, better, fuel systems. It all cumulated in the creation of his virtual reality system, a magnesium bright flash in the pan, or so it seemed.He had wanted it for games, for escape, for joy. The boy’s mind and will were a fairy tale castle. (Though in recent years he traded it for a wizard’s tower.) That Man had no patience for fantasy and tore it down brick by brick.Genius faded then, slowly, hiding away, a flash of inspiration and not something he could manage on a consistent basis. He hid, he and his brother showing cruel sides, tarnished and ugly, dealing with Gozaburo’s hunger pangs by pleasing him with cruelty. Or so it seemed.They had noticed it far too late, thinking the exterior was just a show for the dragon within, and not a tomb.Crushed, crumbling, hanging on by fingernails, half-remembered promises, habit, and hate.As Gozaburo fell, after he fell, Seto Kaiba had not snapped back. He had fumbled, reached for dreams while lacking the emotions that had fueled them. They had been little monsters. But more unforgivably, he had become so utterly, breathtakingly , stupid.A bad copy. Shitty, shitty, re-con. Sloppy, sloppy execution. It was just as well Seto had gone to a school far below his mental capacity because at the time he couldn’t even handle that .And damn him for being surprised by it. He wasn’t human, but he was still a child .The nightmares had been horrid for the whole damn household, but thank the gods it had started to shake things loose, given the boy some other trauma to focus on, they all thought. He had cranked out the dueling arenas quickly after that, but goddamn everyone was lucky that they had managed to pin the stress that caused his coma on the government's pressure on Seto’s attempts to hold onto what was his by blood shared and blood paid.Kaiba Corp had legal services dedicated to going after governments, that had been the first time they had done truly good work.The reason for the steep fall in brilliance was obvious in retrospect.(Not human, but still a boy, the seeming of destruction was true)Gozaburo Kaiba had not allowed the boy to eat enough, to sleep enough, to heal enough. Deeply ingrained habits that even yet shaped the young engineer. He forgot to eat, he forgot to sleep. Yet, he forged wonders and kept himself in such peak physical condition that he was more than a challenge for many full time bodyguards.It was physically impossible for Seto Kaiba to perform mentally and physically as he did.Isono didn’t think Seto was the next step in human evolution, he was an educated man, and quite simply Seto was leagues too far advanced for something like that.Office pot laid odds Sixty-Forty that he was actually a dragon. Most everyone else said magic—spend enough time around good duelists and you just stop doubting that the stuff existed. Isono had been ‘privileged’ to be around the best duelists in the world, and from what he saw magic didn’t work like that.(Isono had two anonymous bets laid out: the first was that Seto was part dragon by way of enchantment, and the second that he was actually a god. Isono was a hundred percent certain he was going to make out like a goddamn bandit if the truth was ever revealed.)(Not that it was necessary, the Household had a much better retirement plan nowadays.)(Old habits died hard.)–Akiko felt her chest fill, her heart soaring as she put down the pen. The NDAs were signed and her new job, not even her dream job, because who dared to dream this?“Okay, Professor Toyota,” said the roundest of her new coworkers as he sealed up the papers and handed them off to a clerical worker. “Everything is done by the books, and as per our tradition, until we leave this room everything is off the books unless it’s criminal, so feel free to speak freely. As the senior member, let me be the first to welcome you, I’m Gilbo Noo. But there’s someone else here who is more eager to welcome you,” he said, his smile tight as he held back laughter.“I’m Professor Kuwabara,” said an older man, bearded, graying, but with long hair, the tallest of the group, “I used to be the most junior member. Let me thank you for rising to the occasion and replacing me in that field, now perhaps the bad jokes will stop.”The blinked at him, but slowly, ruefully, smiled, “That was terrible, obviously the jokes have rubbed off on you.”They all shared a laugh then, scripted of course, Kuwabara had probably been practicing the line since he found out she might be hired. But it was still funny, and as good an icebreaker as the weather.She pushed her glasses further up her nose, still smiling, “Is there an orientation for the team, or..?” She gestured in the direction her NDAs were taken, “There’s not much information out there.”A younger looking man in a lab coat waved from slightly in back, his hair slightly puffed up in the front. “It’s like being in a fellowship again. I’m Kagami, by the way.”Akiko’s eyebrow slowly raised, “Really now.”“Working on your own projects, stretching your wings, getting help and advice from your mentor…and slaving away at said mentor’s own projects.”“You still got to kiss ass though,” interjected the only person not wearing a lab coat. “But you end up wanting to do that just so he stops.”“I’m sorry but, who are you?”“Professor Tanda, I’m experimenting, it’s a heavy burden but I got it.” Now that was just befuddling, and it must have shown. “Trying to see if the boss is more…amenable if we’re dressed casually or not, and as there’s usually no dress code...”“Punk doesn’t have an effect, despite his preferences in friend,” Kagami quipped, “When I found out there was no dress-code I decided to test that.”“And I still say it’s because he’s prejudiced against pompadours.”“You have access to the same reports I do, we looked nothing alike.”“Ignore them,” said the only other woman, patting her elbow. “I’m Ruriko Watanabe. I’ll get your started on the orientation, you’ll need a few primers.”“Oh good,” Toyota was relived that there was something to latch on to that made sense. “What do I have to learn?”“Well, the previous president is to be called Mister Kaiba’s predecessor, not his father. Vice President Kaiba is to be given respect, while not as scientifically apt as his brother, he is likely smarter than you. On the more technical side of thing, using our industrial fabricators will require perhaps a week of classes. They’re better than what the public thinks. If you already know how to use KaibaCAD, good, that will save some time. Also, the in-house philosophy for three-dee chip design is different from what’s going on outside, so you’ll need lessons on that too. It helps if you’re familiar with antropic cascade hypothesis.”Luck studies? For chip design? Or just in general?“A bit. I have an aunt in the military, she’s a duelist, but not eccentric, and…”“No gun jams, the food didn’t get bad, care packages arrived on time.”“I couldn’t say, I mean, she talked about it, but I was a tiny little skeptic even when I was a little girl. I mean, I counted things that happened when she was home and when she wasn’t, how often stuff broke down. And she was right, if I ever find “Baby’s first Statistical Analysis” in mom’s heap of stuff I want to check my conclusions.”“Maybe you could do a second study for comparison in time. Case studies can be so much fun. Oh, right, and we’ll need to test you for G-force tolerance and get you some zero G training.”“Wait, what?”“So you know how Kaiba Corp has single module space station that is the primary storage and server farm?” Watanabe pointed at the ceiling and made a circling gesture, indicating the discus shape of the structure.“Yes, to keep people from breaking in,” again.“We have daily flights on standby booked with SpaceX in case things go wrong and there needs to be maintenance. Usually nothing happens, but if something does we pay the costs and usually one of us goes up with some extra feed stock for the fabricator, and other things.”Someone had stolen her breath, her heart was no longer confined to her chest, it soared into white fire and gunpowder void. Astronaut. Best. Job. Ever. Noo came closer, smiling “Are you done filling her in, Ruriko?”“On the technical side of things,” she replied, bowing her head, “As you were here for the reformation, I thought you’d be best for the other matters.”“Ah. Probably for the best then.” Professor Noo turned to her, and suddenly they were the center of attention. “There are two things you must realize about Seto Kaiba. You are of course aware of our employer's public persona?” She nodded silently, wondering where this was going, and he continued. “It is not a persona. While he is often more reserved while at work, Mister Kaiba is a man who feels deeply and passionately. He is perhaps the most driven man I have ever met. We are here to help him on the path he has chosen.”The boss was fabulous, and going by that ‘often’ qualifier, sometimes prone to tantrums. She could deal with that. “Yes Sir, I understand.”“Did you see any thing wrong with what I said, Professor?”“Not on the face of it, no.” Nice, polite office politics.“Most people don’t.” And he looked older than Kuwabara as his shoulders dropped and his face became somber. “I called him a man. He’s not, and we must remember that. He’s a boy not even old enough to vote. It’s something this entire company forgets all too easily. I forgot it too.”He breathed, and color came back, “He’s a boy with too much on his shoulders, not enough sleep, and not enough friends. We’re not here to be his friends, but we do have a responsibility to watch out for him. Recently he’s entered a state of instability due to…If this was any other situation I would call it the loss of a friend. It is my honest belief that he is attempting to move on to acceptance, but first he requires closure, and he is not approaching that well at all.”And they watched her, and they waited.She made herself nod, slowly. “Emotional minefields and idiosyncrasies in the boss. Going for my Ph.D. all over again.”Tanda laughed, a quick explosion of air and mirth. “Only we get paid. A lot.”“Amen,” they all agreed.–Mokuba Kaiba wasn’t blind. He knew his brother better than anyone, and now he had, not the distance, no…But he could stand on his own now, and so he was not so blind.Nii-sama did everything to protect him, did everything for him. But Seto was a goddamn mess, a child made old before he was twelve.His big brother was running head first towards another event. Not anything like Death-T, but an all-encompassing obsession, and breakdown.(Damn it, Atem, why couldn’t you have kept your promise?)He was vice president, he was old enough now to confront him. “You’re killing yourself again. Heading for another fugue state at least. I don’t…you know that I don’t hold it against you for having your own things, Nii-sama, outside of me and the company. It makes me happy,” that you aren’t that broken, “But you have to be healthier about it.”And Seto, dear beloved Nii-sama, didn’t argue. “You’re right, Mokuba. Let’s go over my will too.”(Damn it, Nii-sama.)“You better not be over reacting,” Mokuba grumbled and hugged his brother around the waist with one arm while Seto scruffed his hair.“Given what we’ve been though, being prepared for anything is--”“--It realistically includes zombie apocalypses, doesn’t it?”Seto huffed out a little laugh, “It’s catching the imagination of people, and Duel Monsters catches the imagination, I don’t see the problem.”Mokuba wished Seto had been joking. “An island with automated farm—underground hydroponics and full Internet back up and fabricators…Nii-sama, I could reboot the entire world after an apocalypse in this compound.”“Yes,” he agreed, “That’s the point, and I know you think it’s too much, that’s why you’re not allowed to liquidate it.”“I really love the gardens you designed for the tower roof and balconies,” though calling the large moving platforms balconies were underselling them a bit. “But why do they have air-tight closures?”“In case the sea level rising, and extreme weather phenomenon.”Mokuba couldn’t even sigh and put his face in his hands, because his brother was probably right. He didn’t like it though, didn’t like that his brother was so prepared to be taken out of the picture, so ready to die.Seto was alive for three reasons exactly. Pure, unrelenting spite, achieving their dream, and taking care of…him.Gozaburo was dead and forgotten, Kaiba Weapons Development Corp was so dead that not even governments thought longingly of it anymore.Kaibalands were in full swing, partnered with Disney, children’s aide organizations have never had more money. There were KaibaCorp full ride grants for people seeking social worker degrees.Seto had become an adult at a very young age, and Mokuba was ever growing up.
10124102	And I Thought They Were	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "James Conrad, Morgan Weaver, Hank Marlow, King Kong - Character", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by zinc_chameleon", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "477", "Additional Tags": "Hadrosaur, Duckbill Dinosaur, Dinosaur Evolution", "Relationship": "James Conrad & Morgan Weaver", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Kong: Skull Island (2017), King Kong (2005), King Kong (1933)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Hank Mallory stopped in the open field, dropping his heavy load with a huff."Exactly why are we here, Hank?" James Conrad asked in exasperation. "And why won't you even let me help you carry that burden?""We're here to make peace with Kong," Hank said as he knelt down and began to undo the intricate knots that wrapped his load. "And there's only one way to do that.""What?" James Conrad replied. "You've invited Kong to meet with us?""No. I want to show you two why Kong is king on this island. A king protects what it best about his kingdom." Hank Mallory said, squinting upward at James Conrad."What? Fairies? Elves?" James Conrad smirked. "Unicorns?""You're getting close on that last guess," Hank Mallory said non-committally."Can I photograph them?" Morgan Weaver said, checking the lighting settings on her camera, as clouds were whipping in from the ocean."Sure," Hank Mallory said, getting up from his kneeling position as he drew back the canvas covering to reveal two intricately worked leather saddles. "You can start with these beauties."Morgan Weaver crouched down, snapping a few preliminary shots to assure proper lighting and perspective. The saddles were leather from a type of creature she had never seen before. At first she thought it might be alligator or crocodile, but the scales were two fine and evenly spaced for that family of reptiles. The saddles were a flow a color from soft blue-grey passing through cyan to deep indigo, with occasional spots of what she could only surmise was Hooker's green.James Conrad stepped to one side of Morgan reached out his hand to inspect the leather. Hank Mallory blocked James Conrad's. "Whatever you do, don't touch them unless I say so," he said brusquely. Conrad withdrew his hand while shrugging his shoulders. "All this Skull Island mystery had better be worth it," he said to Morgan Weaver, studiously averted his gaze from Hank Mallory."They're some kind of saddles, but they're much to big for a horse, unless you're riding a Clydesdale," Morgan Weaver said, changing the subject abruptly.Hank Mallory straighten himself up. "Good time to show you folks why you need to change your approach." He put his two hands to his lips and out from them came a sound like a low-pitched owl hoot. "Kikoo! Kikee! Kikoo! Kikee!" The sound didn't travel far, given their close proximity to the jungle, and the rising wind.Quickly enough, however, the treetops and bushes to their immediate left begin to sway and shake. [Morgan's and James reaction to the sight of the hadrosaurs, with an explanation of how they came to be protected by Kong, along with a detailed description of Morgan's first attempt at mounting the saddle on Kikee, the female.] ====================================================================================================="And I thought they would all be monsters," Morgan Weaver said in amazement.
10101170	Red	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by TheFeistyRogue", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00", "words": "217", "Additional Tags": "Romance, Fluff, Humor, Invisibility Cloak, Drabble, Boys In Love, Good Draco Malfoy", "Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "HP Tumblr Prompts", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	All he could see was red. Red walls, red carpet, red upholstery, with the occasional glint of gold thrown in. And so much red hair!“Too many bloody Weasleys,” Draco muttered to himself as he sneaked into the Gryffindor common room under the conveniently loaned invisibility cloak.“There are so many Weasleys!” a fifth year girl exclaimed, turning to her friend. Draco winced. He hadn’t realised he’d be heard.“What?” her friend replied. “Oh yes, there are. Multiply like rabbits, they do.” Draco stifled a snort of laughter and crept toward his goal: the stairs leading to the sixth year boys’ dorm. He tiptoed up them, and slid through the half open door, into the room. The dorm was empty, save for the reason he’d made the trip into enemy territory.“Draco?” Harry said, his eyes narrowing, as if that would help him see through an invisibility cloak. Draco swept the cloak off, tucking it into his bag.“Harry,” he purred. Harry smiled, and Draco closed the two steps between them briskly so he could brush his lips against Harry’s.“Hey,” Harry whispered, taking Draco’s hand in his own. They sat on the bed together. “I missed you.” Draco arched a brow, and declined to return the sentiment, but he pressed another kiss to Harry’s lips instead.
10188806	Its Quiet In Montreal	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": "Multi", "Characters": "Lee Seung Gil, Isabella Yang, Jean-Jacques Leroy", "Fandom": "Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Elle_Nahiara", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "2017-03-12", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "6,577", "Additional Tags": "seriously read the tags, Polyamory, yes the title is a hamilton reference, Angst, Present Tense, Seung Gil is Gay, Podfic Available", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Jean-Jacques Leroy/Isabella Yang, Lee Seung Gil/Jean-Jacques Leroy/Isabella Yang, Lee Seung Gil/Jean-Jacques Leroy, Lee Seung Gil & Isabella Yang", "Series": null, "Collections": "The Biker Gang Club", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Seung-gil rubs his hands together, careful not to tug on Kongju’s leash. Even through the gloves, he can feel the biting cold of Montreal’s winter. Seung-gil has not yet been able to get used to it. Maybe he never will. Wouldn’t that be just wonderful? He blows some air through his nose at the thought, slightly amused. He stops at the intersection between Avenue des Pins and University Street-which is ridiculously one of the few places near the park where there’s a traffic light- and waits until he is allowed to cross. Realizing the light’s about to turn red, a car drives too quickly by them, and Kongju jumps, startled. Seung-gil pets her fur affectionately. “ It’s okay. It’s all fine ,” he whispers softly, like the breeze that is blowing, and the dog quickly relaxes. “ Just another idiot .” As they cross, a man gives him a look and whispers to the woman beside him, in quick Quebecois: “ Why can’t these Chinese people just learn to speak before moving here?” Seung-gil doesn’t want to get in a fight, but he also won’t allow this person to badmouth him. So he turns and speaks in a calculatedly calm tone that helps disguise the fact he hasn’t mastered the language completely yet: “ Maybe it’s because she learned to understand Korean first and it’s just easier. Maybe, though, it’s none of your business and you should stop being awful. Good evening.” The man mutters something else, but Seung-gil is too busy strolling away from him to pay attention. This sort of thing doesn’t exactly happen often, but it happens more than never, and that’s just too much. Still, he never lets JJ or Isabella know about those sort of encounters. They would just blow it out of proportion, try to comfort him or something. He doesn’t need comforting. He just needs people to stop being assholes. But since that’s not going to happen, he won’t bother them with that. “ This is our secret , right Kongju?” The dog just wags her tail. It’s possible he might have lied a little. Kongju is a clever pup, she understands some orders in French. But ever since he moved there, Seung-gil tries to use Korean whenever he can. The few times that Seung-gil and Isabella are alone, the weekly Skype calls to his parents, and the Korean lessons JJ is taking are all good, but they are not enough. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t grown used to it yet. It’s been a year and a half, yes. But a year and a half is not nearly enough to compare to most of a life spent in Korea. Sometimes he still opens his eyes in the morning, having forgotten where he’s at. And the reaction when he remembers the truth is the same as the one he gets while he opens the door of the apartment. “Seung-gil is home!” Isabella announces, dropping JJ’s hand as she stands up from the couch. “Hey!” JJ greets, jumping up too. “How was the walk? Did you two behave?” Seung-gil smiles. “Of course we did,” Seung-gil replies, kissing Isabella’s cheek and then kneeling to take the leash from Kongju. JJ crosses his arms and laughs. “Don’t I get a kiss?” Seung-gil rolls his eyes and pulls him in for one. Had you told Seung-gil five years ago that he’d be sharing an apartment with anyone, he would have been skeptical. He’d always liked solitude and privacy, after all. There had been more than a few times when he laid down in bed, after a long day of training, listening to nothing but the cars passing in the distance and thinking that was happiness. Though if you had given him good arguments, he would have eventually been open to the idea. He didn’t regard things as impossible so easily, and he could admit to himself, every once in a while, that maybe he didn’t want to be alone for the rest of his life. But if you had told him he’d be permanently living with two people and that one of them would be a woman, he would have just scoffed and walked away, annoyed that he’d let anyone waste his time for even a second in such a dumb conversation. Because having a boyfriend is one thing. Having a boyfriend who also has a wife was just unexpected. Still, that was the thing about JJ. He was always unexpected. Ever since he had barged into Seung-gil’s life, loudly wondering why ‘that Korean skater’ couldn’t seem to land his triple loop, he has been one surprise after the other. Like how he’d insisted Seung-gil sit at his table and then dragged him along Karuizawa on an impromptu jam-tasting tour. Seung-gil had only known him for a day, but JJ just got closer and said “we’re the only young ones”. Which wasn’t false , but seemed ridiculous considering that everyone was dying to see what the son of two renowned ice dancers was made of. It turned out, he was made of ego and noise, and friendliness and understanding. The latter of these lead him to immediately come up with the name ‘JJ’ when he discovered Seung-gil struggled with ‘Jean’ and just refused to try ‘Jacques’. “JJ just sounds cooler, anyway.” Like JJ getting into the Junior Grand Prix Final on his first year as a professional skater. He stood in the podium along with a baffled Seung-gil, who found out he was not just happy for himself. He also felt his heart swell with pride at his recently acquired, very hyper and extremely talented friend. And then to the list of surprises he can add the countless internet calls.and a newfound warm feeling in his chest as they talked during the off-season. Like the unexpectedness of getting drunk in Ostrava, under the excuse of celebrating Otabek’s fifteenth birthday in advance. Seung-gil still thanks Emil and his cousin for that. JJ and Seung-gil refused to go to bed, too busy blushing and giggling, when suddenly JJ asked: “do you like girls, boys? Both?” Confidently, Seung-gil replied with “Just boys”. And then there was true shock when JJ followed with “Have you ever kissed?” Seung-gil has already confessed he lied when he said that no, he hadn’t. He has admitted it was just so they’d have an excuse to ‘try it out’. Small things that lead to big things, really. Little moments that made him feel alive, both in bad and good ways. Bad ways, such as when JJ asked him a few months later, via Skype: “Should I ask this girl out? She’s so pretty and amazing!” And Seung-gil felt like he was freezing from the inside out, wondering aloud, before he could think it over and stop himself. “So Ostrava meant nothing?” At which JJ laughed and Seung-gil disconnected. He refused to take another call for a long while. He did not understand until he finally decided to be mature about it. He was greeted by an accompanied JJ, announcing with a wink “Seung-gil. This is my girlfriend, Isabella. Isabella, this is my, hopefully, future boyfriend, Seung-gil.” Despite his bewilderment, Seung-gil flushed. “Let’s see how it works”, he’d said. But it was complicated. There was school, and training, and then Seung-gil had to put his skating on hold because of the military. Also, he just wasn’t sure what he wanted. Isabella and JJ were both wonderful, but he was young. They all were. So he kept the flirting and the chatting and the going to JJ’s room when they met in competition, but held back on getting serious for years. That was until JJ told him he would ask Isabella to marry him and Seung-gil said “That’s wonderful.” Still, after a deep, deep silence, JJ just asked “So, are you and me over?” Seung-gil thought about it for a moment. The pang in his gut as he thought of ending it made him declare “No.” Not much later, Barcelona happened. JJ landed a Quad Loop. Seung-gil had jokingly told Isabella that if he managed to do so in competition, Seung-gil would never let go of him. Suddenly, the joke turned serious, and they made the plans behind JJ’s back. At Four Continents, he announced, trying to keep his cool, trying to imitate JJ’s bluntness: “I’m moving to Montreal.” And JJ hugged him so tight, not even the slightest bit annoyed by the seemingly abrupt decision. Those are the kind of things Seung-gil thinks of on nights like this one, when he has decided he needs his space and taken the spare room instead of the king-size bed they share. More often than not, he finds his heart beating loudly in his chest due to sheer happiness. But sometimes, nights like this one, he goes back to the other room and crawls underneath the covers to press himself against JJ’ right side, announcing “I changed my mind.” He doesn’t regret any of it, not as JJ’s arm wraps around his shoulders and brings him closer. In the morning, Seung-gil wakes up to JJ preparing breakfast as silently as he can, which is not silent at all. He tries, because he doesn’t want Isabella to get up earlier than necessary. Thankfully, both Seung-gil and JJ have learned that Isabella is the heaviest sleeper of them all. She can fall asleep to the sound of explosions on the TV and remain so through sudden renditions of JJ’s songs, played on cups and cutlery and Kongju’s barks; even Seung-gil sings along. And Isabella keeps her eyes closed. Today, Seung-gil overhears JJ singing an overdramatic version of ‘My Heart Will Go On’, which is, unironically, one of JJ’s favorite songs. “Near! Far! Wherever you-and-Isabella are!” JJ sings, turning to thrust a spatula in front of Seung-gil’s face as he walks into the main room. “Come on, I know you know the lyrics!” Seung-gil rolls his eyes, but he knows JJ well enough to be aware he is not just going to let him be. So he sings along to the melody: “I believe that JJ is a fool.” JJ laughs loudly, and then flips the crêpe he is making. Seung-gil raises his eyebrows. “Crêpes? Is there something I’m forgetting?” he asks, trying to recall what day it is. He’s sure they are in February, so it’s no one’s birthday. “No, I just wanted to surprise you,” JJ shrugs, and gives him one of his bright grins. “ So! Are you surprised? ” He asks in jumbled Korean. He smiles back softly. “ Of course,” he replies, in only slightly better French, “ just try not to surprise me too much. I can’t gain too much weight.” “I’d love you anyway,” JJ announces, sincere as always. Seung-gil chuckles and pats him on the shoulder, feeling the hard muscle beneath the tanktop he’s wearing. “Not everyone is you,” he says, softly. “Thankfully! The world would not be able to live with the amazingness!” “And without working heaters,” Seung-gil jokes, always keen on remembering how badly JJ and mechanic work get along. JJ shrugs, and finishes making breakfast. “Luckily, there exists Seung-gil to repair things for us,” he comments, as he goes to the table. “Come on, sit, sit.” They eat and then, as Seung-gil does the dishes, JJ showers. “Your turn,” JJ says. He wraps his arms around Seung-gil and kisses his shoulder. “I’ll take care of the rest.” “You better put some clothes on, instead.” Seung-gil nudges him away, then goes to the shower. After he finishes, he gets out and gets dressed. JJ is waiting for him, clapping his hands to a quick rhythm, as if to encourage Seung-gil to move according to it. “Stop that. You’ll wake Bella.” JJ scofffs. “Fine, you’ll wake Kongju.” “She’s going to wake up anyway,” JJ grabs the hair dryer and pats the other side of the couch. “Baby, it’s cold outside.” Seung-gil sighs a little and lets JJ dry his hair. The rare occasions Seung-gil remembers to do it himself, he just ends up directing the hot air towards the same spot for too long. When they finish, it’s around a quarter past seven. JJ stands up with a jump. “Okay! Let’s go!” Seung-gil puts on his jacket as JJ writes a “See you later” and a heart on the magnetic whiteboard hanging from the fridge, along with little magnetic puppies. They go out of the apartment and down on the elevator. Outside, little snowflakes are falling, JJ smiles up at the sky, as if thanking the heavens. Seung-gil shudders, however, and JJ turns to look at him. “Cold?” he says, with a mischievous grin. “JJ, no.” “C’mon! Race you to the rink!” “Not again!” Seung-gil complains. “It will help you stay in shape!” “We just ate!” JJ keeps that grin. “Afraid you’ll lose?” Seung-gil sighs, straightens his back and glares at JJ. “To you? You wish.” Then he starts walking as quickly as he can without tripping on the snow. Honestly, it’s not a fair race. It never is. “Your legs are longer than mine.” Seung-gil complains, as JJ laughs loudly. “Not by a significant amount!” “Whatever, I’m beating your jumps today. You are going to fall, Leroy.” And, sure enough, JJ falls, but only a handful of times. Joke’s on him, though, because Seung-gil only falls once before lunch. After training, they go their own ways, JJ taking a taxi to go talk to some sponsors of his clothing brand while Seung-gil walks back home. Once home, Seung-gil changes, then puts a leash on Kongju and takes her out for her long walk. They have slipped into this comfortable routine: their tasks are split according to taste, ability, and then, also according to sheer luck. Seung-gil repairs things and walks Kongju, alone or with someone else in the evenings; Isabella walks her in the mornings and prepares lunch; JJ makes the rest of the food. They clean up as a team, on weekends. Seung-gil never quite liked doing chores, but Disney movies aren’t that wrong. You can have fun while cleaning when in good company. Or at least you can keep it from being almost unbearable. And finishing your duties means a reward in the household, more often than not. Be it falling into bed for a movie or to melt under JJ’s touch (or both), it is always nice. Problem is, sometimes people don’t do what they are assigned to do, not because they don’t want to, but because they feel like crap. Case in point: Seung-gil has had a headache the whole day. He thought it would go away if he didn’t go to the rink and slept through the morning. Isabella is kind and far quieter a nurse than JJ would be. She has light feet and softly whispers her words. “ I’m going to leave lunch ready for you. You get it whenever you feel like it, alright? Get better.” However, she is not magical, and also has a job. So she leaves an ailing Seung-gil to sleep, and when he wakes up, he still feels terrible. He eats. It’s 6 PM. When did it become 6 PM? He goes to the bathroom. falls asleep again, drifting in and out of consciousness until 9. Surely now he’ll be fine, right? Wrong. Nonetheless, he gets dressed. Kongju’s whining, scratching at the door. She needs to get out for a walk That’s when JJ comes back. “Oh, no,” he says, voice uncharacteristically soft, but not soft enough to make Seung-gil’s head not thump with pain. He drags Seung-gil back to bed. “Kongju needs to go out,” Seung-gil complains, trying and failing not to be moved. “And she will, just not with you.” JJ undresses him with expertise, and Seung-gil, defeated, puts his pyjama back on. “There you go. Bella got held up at work.” Seung-gil sighs a little. “Lead guy magically ‘forgot his lines’ in the kissing scene again?” JJ scoffs, slightly annoyed. It passes quickly. “Apparently.” “You got to give these guys a talk.” “To be fair, there’s our arrangement-” Seung-gil rolls his eyes. “Stop calling it that. It’s a relationship. ‘Arrangement’ makes it sound like it is unpleasing. Or that it’s temporary.” JJ stops and considers that. “True. Sorry.” He runs his hand over Seung-gil’s hair. “But, when they hear Isabella’s husband has a live-in boyfriend as well… you know, they get ideas. And I’d be okay with those, if Isabella was. But she’s not.” Seung-gil presses a hand to JJ’s. “Not your fault people are douchebags.” JJ looks at him lovingly. “You know you can also bring people over, if you’d like, right?” “I know. But I don’t want to. I want you. That’s it.” JJ’s eyes widen a little and then he grins, leaning to press a kiss to Seung-gil’s forehead. “You’re burning up. I’m going to get you some meds and I’ll walk Kongju, okay?” Seung-gil nods weakly. “Alright.” “I’ll be back with Isabella and food.” “Alright,” he repeats, waving him away and hiding underneath the covers. JJ does the JJ sign as he walks backwards towards the door. “I love you!” “Yes, yes, stop screaming!” Seung-gil groans as JJ leaves, but there’s a faint smile on his face. “I love you too.” His head is pounding. The lights don’t make it any better. Seung-gil lies back down on the bed and closes his eyes. He rolls to the middle of the bed, and, frankly, dislikes it. He can’t understand how JJ likes sleeping there. It’s much too soft, and you cannot uncover yourself if it’s too hot, because maybe the people at your sides are cold. Well, not Isabella. Isabella always says the heat’s too much.. Seung-gil is the one that feels like a human popsicle. But JJ has a fucked up body temperature. His skin is always warm, but he never complains about it. Time passes. It seems an awfully long time, but the whole day has gone by either too quickly, when he’s fallen asleep, or painfully slowly, whenever he’s awake. Still, despite the fact that Seung-gil feels like the population of Hell just held a party inside his head and then forgot to clean up, he is at ease. His cellphone rings and he groans. Blindly, he fumbles for it and rejects the call. Probably JJ asking what food he wants, when he knows he’d prefer a burger. He’s just waiting for the day in which Seung-gil says something different, and that will not happen. Okay, maybe it has happened. But it’s because Seung-gil answers with “whatever you want” or “whatever Isabella wants”, shortly followed by “but for me, meat. Even if it’s some sort of meat substitute. Just don’t let me know it’s that.” They always go out of their way, even when they have vegan cuisine, to get him meat. Seung-gil never mentions it. They never mention it. But it’s there. Tangible and delicious proof. Seung-gil puts the cellphone away and buries his aching head on the pillow. Then the cellphone rings again. Seung-gil rejects it. It rings again. Reject. Ring. “Ugh.” He picks it up. “Seung-gil! Seung-gil, oh my god.” There’s a weakness in Isabella’s voice. It trembles. He sits up quickly, his thoughts immediately going to Kongju. “Bella? What is it?” He hears sirens and a dog barking. Possibly Kongju? So is she okay? Isabella says nothing. “Isabella?” Nothing. “Isabella!” “It’s…It’s JJ.” It’s awful, how things can get worse in such a normal day. One moment he is sick in bed, the next he is making his way to the hospital with the call still going. Isabella explains, between sobs, that it had all happened so quickly, that she still couldn’t believe it. It seemed so fast. A guy tried to mug them, and he pointed a knife to Isabella and JJ had tried to protect her, and- then her talking just dissolves into crying. “Turn right here! No, there, no. Wait- Just….”Seung-gil is struggling to give directions to the taxi driver as he stays on the phone. Maybe it's the fever. “Miss, you can’t have a dog in here.” “ Excuse me, sir, but my daughter sprained her ank- ” “Not now, lady.” Woof, woof. Crying. His brain seems to be beating against his skull. “Sir, we’ll have to take a detour.” Woof. “Okay, then turn- no, not here.” “Not used to going by-” Woof, woof. A kid throwing a tantrum. Seung-gil can hardly breathe. “-car, are you?” Doors swinging open. “You’ll have to wait here, go get the dog out.” “Yes, I’m sorry! I just-!” “Isabella,” he mutters softly, as the taxi takes yet another wrong turn. “I’ll be there in a second, okay?” “Okay.” He ends the call and takes a deep breath. His hands are shaking so badly he’s not able to call her when he gets there. He finds her as a doctor walks away from her. “Isabella!” he says, running towards her. “How is he? How’s he doing?” Her hands are covering her mouth. Her eyes are red. She has blood on her shirt. Isabella barely blinks as Seung-gil puts his hands on her shoulder, voice shaking. “Isabella! Come on. That doctor just told you something!” Her breath quivers, her arms fall to her sides. He shakes her a little, desperate to hear something. “Y-yes.” She manages. He stops. “... So?” She opens her mouth again. She falls silent and rests her head on his shoulder, breaking down. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- At first, he thinks the worst part is the fact that Isabella is not saying anything, but he knows . He knows what it means. But then they have to call JJ’s family, and then his friends, and then they have to prepare. Isabella takes care of the legal part. Seung-gil handles the ceremony. And every moment feels just wrong. Somehow, though, the activity keeps him distracted. He picks clothes, he picks locations. He picks everything. He takes calls, some of them from the media. He almost tells them to go to hell, but he knows what JJ wants. What he would have wanted. JJ is dead. The problems begin at the funeral, when JJ’s aunt walks in. She greets Isabella, talks to her sweetly, offers her condolences. But her eyes go cold as Seung-gil comes into view. As they always have done. Seung-gil remains stoically by the open casket. He thinks nothing of it. He thinks nothing of anything. So when the media approaches Isabella, and only Isabella, he just keeps looking at JJ’s face. He is so quiet. Neither of them give a speech. Instead, they let JJ’s siblings do the talking. In fact, Seung-gil says nothing after the plans are made. While people reminisce about the time JJ got his tattoo, among food and drink, Seung-gil just sips on his wine. While people laugh softly and struggle to do the JJ sign, Seung-gil goes back to the casket. He kneels beside it, silent, and pretends to pray. What he really wants is to rest his head on JJ’s lap, close his eyes, sleep. But nobody will run his fingers through his hair. When they go back to the apartment, there’s an awkward silence. A fragile thing, in which all his hopes rest. “ So... do you want to have dinner?” Isabella speaks in Korean. Like whenever they were alone. They are alone. Seung-gil has not woken up. “ No, ” he replies, immediately, and makes his way to the spare room. The first morning, he forgets breakfast and almost faints at the rink. He gets looks, but no words said to him. His phone rings; Sara Crispino. He turns it off. And he practices. And he falls, he falls, he falls. He stays there until six, and when he returns, he hears Isabella on the phone. Wordlessly, he takes a shower and then goes out for a walk with Kongju. And Seung-gil is waiting for that weight in his stomach to go away, as the snowflakes fall on his hair and over his cold ears. This is real. And with every corner that he turns, every moment that he breathes, JJ is not there. JJ is nowhere to be found. There’s a little urn in a columbarium, but that won’t help, will it? A little urn can do nothing but make him angry, lonely… Sad. Seung-gil shakes his head. He cannot afford to dwell. Instead of going to Mont-Royal, he walks towards Sherbrooke and turns right at Jean ne-Mance. Not so far away, there’s a park where events are often held, and though he’s never had any interest in them, right now he could use the noise. There is something that slips his mind, however, and that he only remembers too late, only when there’s no escaping it: the University is there. It’s not imposing, but there’s something about its yellowish bricks that reminds Seung-gil of bones. And it reminds him of death. And it reminds him of their plans. Plans that when Seung-gil eventually retired from skating, he could do his Master’s there. That was JJ’s idea. It all seems so pointless now. When he gets to the apartment, he is shivering, and Isabella gives him a quick glance. She doesn’t mention it, however. “ What do you want to eat? ” she asks, her voice almost a whisper. Seung-gil doesn’t look at her for long. He shrugs. “ Whatever is easiest. ” Isabella hesitates. “ There’s that soup. But’s it’s …” Vegetable soup. He shrugs again. “ Sure. ” He takes the plate to the other room. Worlds is approaching slowly, but Seung-gil cannot care about it. What he cares for are the little remnants in the apartment: the wilting roses from Valentine’s, the writing on the whiteboard, the half-empty bottle of cologne in the bathroom, and the folded clothes in the closet. Grief is in the little remainders of a broken routine. He expects the feeling to melt like ice does, but as days go by, the snowstorms only grow worse. Because he has to face the fact that he misses JJ. He misses him singing in the morning and snoring at night. He misses him showing off in practice, and racing him to the rink, and never shutting up. His bragging about his gold medals, his randomly quoting songs, the way he was warm at night. The pouches under his eyes, his upturned nose, his stupid, stupid eyebrows, and the short hair near his nape. And the way he made Seung-gil feel loved, like he belonged. That had been happiness. Seung-gil shivers in the empty bed. He still hasn’t been able to get used to the Montreal winter. And it comes to him as an epiphany: Maybe he never will. Maybe he doesn’t have to. What is keeping him there? He does awfully in Worlds and he cannot bring himself to care. He thought he’d be glad to be away from the apartment, but being on the ice is not the same. He cannot land his quad loop. The others skaters stare at him. They regard him with pity-filled eyes, at best. Seung-gil cannot bear that expression. Cannot bear their presence. He has to stop seeing in their eyes the same disgust, blame and coldness he recalls from the funeral. He returns to the apartment. He hears voices. Isabella, he finds out, has friends over. Friends who have brought flowers. “Oh, I didn’t know you’d be back this soon!” she says. She pours Magdaleine a cup of coffee, and Seung-gil focuses his eyes on the hand keeping said cup in place. Isabella’s left. “Sit down!” She invites him, with a smile. “I’m tired,” he says, shaking his head, and then makes his way to the room along with Kongju. “Oh, okay.” He tries to sleep while he hears Isabella laugh. He can’t. What is keeping him there? The question just becomes more jarring, as the dirty dishes start disappearing from the sink, as he comes back to find a clean house. What is keeping me here? As one day he finds the whiteboard erased. What, indeed, as he sees fewer and fewer newspaper articles on the oh-so-tragically-young Jean-Jacques Leroy. It seems the world is moving on. Even winter is ending. It had to, eventually. But somehow, it still hurts. Some nights he cries. Some nights, Isabella passes by his door on the way to the bathroom. If those ever coincide, they don’t talk about it. Or about anything. It keeps hurting. Day after day. Seung-gil spends more time outside than in, between training and walking Kongju. At nights, he tries to go to sleep, but Isabella is often watching movies in her bedroom. He doesn’t want to ask her to turn the volume down. He doesn’t want to see her. He thought he had been troubled by the silence, but this is worse. One day, Seung-gil tells Isabella: “ Let’s have dinner together. ” It’s too much. The unstoppable discomfort. The perpetual sadness. The festering anger. As he prepares the steak, he is quiet. As Isabella sets the table, she hums. Every note is like a slap to Seung-gil’s face. It’s plain to see, she is doing better. So why can’t I? He knows why. They eat. They make small talk. They don’t meet each other’s eyes. And suddenly, Seung-gil decides to just drop it. “ I’m going back to Korea. ” Seung-gil is prepared for a lot of things. What he is not prepared for is Isabella dropping her fork and staring at him with wide, lost eyes. “ You what?” He eats a bit more, swallows, keeps his eyes low. “ I said I’m going back to Korea.” “Oh.” Isabella chuckles a little, awkwardly. “ Your parents probably miss you.” “Yes.” “So… when are you leaving?” Seung-gil shrugs. “ Soon.” “Ah.” Nothing. Isabella picks up her fork and cleans it up. “So;” she asks, “how long?” Seung-gil frowns. “ How long what?” “How long will you be away?” He meets her eyes. She is not stupid. She knows. She just wants to hear him say it. “ Forever.” Isabella holds his gaze for a moment before turning to stare at the whiteboard, which has been clean for weeks now. She breathes deeply. “ Why? ” Seung-gil feels as if he’s been hit, again. And it infuriates him. She has to know. But fine, if she’s making him say it… “JJ is dead.” It’s different to think it than to say it. Somehow, it’s even worse. Like something just slipped out of his reach forever. That keeps on happening. He thinks he has come to terms with it, and then he finds out there is a new and awful experience he has yet to live. It’s draining. It’s even worse when Isabella looks at him like she’s confused. Like she doesn’t understand the implications of it. Before she can ask, he explains: “I have nothing to stay here for.” Isabella opens her mouth. “I know what you are going to say. ‘Friends’. But that’s not true.” There’s a knot in his throat, it makes it makes him struggle to talk. “I don’t have friends here,” he continues. “There’s only your friends. His friends.” Seung-gil barely has friends, to be honest, but that never seemed to matter before this. A lot of things have started mattering only now. Like the ring on Isabella’s finger. He cannot stop thinking about that ring. Every time she moves her left hand, it seems to shine in the light. Her wedding band and her engagement ring. It never hurt before. Isabella hesitates before speaking again. “You have friends, Seung-gil.” He doesn’t know why they are talking in English. But he’s glad they are. Speaking in Korean is just a constant reminder of what they lost. “Not here.” “Our friends are your friends too.” Seung-gil shakes his head. “No.” And that ‘our’ is painful too. Everything is. “They don’t like me. They never did. And I don’t like them either. And, you know, that’s fine. But they could at least pretend. They could have at least spoken to me at the funeral.” “Seung-gil,” she starts, “they just-” “I don’t want to hear it,” he raises from his seat. “They don’t know how to talk to you.” Isabella insists. “Why? It was never a problem for JJ! He just… did it.” “JJ…” Isabella takes a deep breath. “JJ was something else.” And that is true. JJ was blunt and loud and courageous. If he hadn’t been, Seung-gil wouldn’t have fallen in love with him. But if he hadn’t been, he would still be alive. Seung-gil stays quiet for a moment. “I know they blame me,” he admits, feebly. Isabella raises her eyebrows, and slowly stands up. “Blame you? Why would anyone…?” “He was out because he was walking Kongju, because I was sick. If I hadn’t been sick… If I hadn’t brought Kongju over….” “She’s your dog. You couldn’t just abandon her.” “That’s not what I mean!” Seung-gil snaps. Isabella stays quiet for a moment. “Then what do you mean?” He stops, then shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.” Isabella frowns. “Yes it does. Talk to me.” “Why should I?” She stops, shrugs. “I always thought we were friends… We’ve lived together for a while now.” Seung-gil purses his lips. “And did that never bother you?” She shakes her head. “No. Did it ever bother you?” He doubts. His words can be misinterpreted, probably, but… “Not until recently.” Isabella smiles, reaches his hand to touch his. He recoils. “Sorry.” “You don’t get it.” Seung-gil says. “Don’t get what?” He stays quiet. “Don’t get what?” she insists, but her voice is gentle. “You... you were his wife.” He says, with difficulty. His eyes burn. “He loved you.” “He loved you too.” His heart beats loudly at that. Yes, he did. Seung-gil never doubted that. He still cannot doubt that, even if it would make things easier. “But” he continues, “he married you, not me. And that’s why… I’m not saying… I do not mean-” he scoffs, and looks away. His vision is blurry. “Just say it. I’ll understand.” He takes a deep breath. “They don’t believe him. They wouldn’t believe that he loved me. They don’t talk to me about him, because… because to him I’m just the lover, the extra one, the…” he practically spits his next words “the fucktoy.” She covers her mouth with her hands, and she looks as she did in the emergency room. “Oh, no. Seung-gil, please, that’s-” “I know. I know. It’s not like that. It was not like that to him-” She wants to comfort him. He doesn’t want her comfort. He wants someone to hear him out. “But-” Seung-gil continues “In their eyes, I don’t belong here. Not really. But I just came over and he died while walking my dog, and-” “Don’t.” She interrupts him, voice trembling. “You don’t get to blame yourself. It was not your fault.” Seung-gil scoffs, looks away. When he blinks, some tears fall. “In the long run, it was.” “It wasn’t, Seung-gil.” She speaks firmly. “In their eyes-” “In whose eyes?!” Isabella asks. “If anyone ever blames you, they can talk to me. I refuse… I won’t… I can’t let them think that!” She calms down a bit. “If someone is to blame, it was me.” Seung-gil stares at her, perplexed. “Why- why would anyone…?” “I was there.” Right. Seung-gil has, somehow, forgotten that detail. But still- “How does that make it your fault?” “H-he was trying to defend me,” her voice breaks. “And when he was stabbed, I just… I couldn’t help him:” Her shoulders shake, and suddenly, she’s crying. And Seung-gil feels like an idiot. “Isabella,” he says, softly. He walks towards her. “Bella. It’s not your fault.” “I know,” she mutters. “I know, rationally, it’s not. But… but I still feel-” Seung-gil hesitates. “I thought you were fine,” he admits. She shakes her head, but somehow is not offended. “I can’t sleep. I wake up all the time, thinking about him. Sometimes I think I’m just going to… open my eyes and-” “And he’ll be there.” “Yeah.” Seung-gil chuckles weakly, and then sniffles. And then slowly, the dam that he has built around his emotions falls, and he breaks down into sobs. Isabella does, too. They talk between tears. "I thought it was Kongju. I never thought- He was always so-" "I know.” Isabella nods. “Full of life, right?” She presses her forehead to his shoulder. He hugs her close. “Was he in pain? I’m sorry. I just… need to-” “It’s fine. He wasn’t. He passed out pretty soon.” Seung-gil lets go of Isabella, wiping her tears and getting a box of tissues. “I didn’t realize people ignored you. I’m so sorry,” she says. Seung-gil hesitates. “You know, one of the… One of the last things I told him was,” he takes a deep breath. “‘Not your fault people are douchebags’. You should know that too. ” They chuckle weakly. Isabella blows her nose. “I actually was so glad when you came into the picture.” “Were you?” he asks, surprised. “Yes. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love- loved… love JJ but sometimes he was… too much for one person.” Seung-gil makes his way to the couch. “He would have loved to hear that.” Isabella laughs. “He would have.” “Goddammit,” Seung-gil sighs, holding his head in his hands. “He just couldn’t go peacefully in his sleep when he got old, could he?” She sits beside him. “You know JJ. He always had to make a big deal of everything. JJ style and all that.” They look at each other, and, after a beat, do the JJ sign. They crack up even though there are still tears in their eyes. Isabella takes his hand. Seung-gil does not move back to Korea. Seung-gil does not fail another competition as terribly as Worlds. At his next competition, in fact, he wins. His exhibition skate? Theme of King JJ . That way, people will remember him, still, in the way JJ would have wanted them to: Ridiculous, creative, wonderful. He adds one detail: a quad loop. One day, Isabella tells him they should do something with JJ’s ashes, that just letting them stay in the same place isn’t what he would have wanted. Seung-gil agrees. “What, though?” He asks. “Do you trust me?” “Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate. The conversation is seemingly forgotten, until, about a year later, Isabella takes out a small box. “Ta-dah!” she says. Seung-gil raises his eyebrows. “Are you proposing, Bella?” he laughs. “While I’m flattered, I have to remind you: I’m gay.” “Open it.” It is a ring, no surprise there. Not any ring, though. He has to check Isabella’s hand, because it looks the same as her engagement ring. But she’s still wearing that. “What is this?” She flushes a bit. “I… hope it’s okay. That’s… there’s this place where they turn ashes into diamonds and…” Seung-gil stares at her. “Oh.” She nods, bashfully. “That’s...” he laughs and puts on the ring. “I love it. Thanks.” Her face lights up. Seung-gil retires at 27. He studies a PhD at the University of Quebec at Montreal. He becomes a professor. Isabella becomes a screenwriter. Someday, she says, she’ll write a biopic about them. She also opens an acting school. (JJ had always said he wanted to be a coach when he retired.) They never find JJ’s killer.They never quite get over that, or JJ. Sure, they invite people over, they have lovers. But it’s never quite the same. Sometimes you never quite get over someone, but you learn to live without them. Years pass. Seung-gil gets used to the cold in Montreal.
10108748	The Bermuda Triangle	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Barry Allen, Leonard Snart", "Fandom": "The Flash (TV 2014)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by WacheyPena", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00", "words": "28", "Additional Tags": "Fanart, Nudity, barry's booty, len in a wet shirt, Chest Hair", "Relationship": "Barry Allen/Leonard Snart", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "It Started with a Dick Pic, Wachey's ColdFlash Fanart", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It was a lot of fun creating this piece, though it took a bit to figure out how to make Len look 'wet' aside from the shirt XD
10129277	Covering Our Tracks	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Issac Foster, Rachel Gardner", "Fandom": "殺戮の天使 \| Satsuriku no Tenshi (Video Game)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Khymer", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "3,382", "Additional Tags": "escape plan stuff, fluffiness here and there", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Our Bond", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Morning light silently creeped through the blinds of the occupied motel room, the fugitive pair appeared to have had a peaceful night’s sleep, Zack was the first to wake up when the dark room began to brighten. He felt slightly groggy from having to wake up after a deep sleep in so long, he brought a hand up to lightly rub the sleep from his eyes and felt a faint stir against his chest. Zack’s bi-colored eyes gazed down to see Ray was curled up against him, appearing sound asleep with no signs of waking up anytime soon. “Out cold…” he mumbled with a smirk. Zack watched her snooze for a moment, never seeing such an expression on her face before, then brought his hand to let his fingers brush through the ends of her hair. He silently pondered for a bit about their conversation the previous night and what Ray said about feeling safe and secure. Zack was someone who swore to take her life one day, yet she felt safe and…happy. He wanted to think more about it, but his eyes wandered to the alarm clock on one of the nightstands. Zack needed to get up and scout the town, on top of that, he did need to find Rachel a new change of clothes as well. He carefully shimmied his arm underneath Rachel to free himself from the bed and allow her to continue sleeping. Zack scanned the room for his hoodie and had found it tossed in the corner near the door. Once he slipped it back on, he peeked back at the sleeping girl and pulled up the blanket to her shoulders. “I’ll be back in a bit…” He left the bedroom and grabbed his room key, his attention turned to a large object that was obscured with a tattered cloth to make it appear as a bindle, it was his scythe he had to sneak in to throw off suspicion. Zack debated to bring it with him, but he had no other way to let Ray know that he didn’t leave her – curse his illiteracy. He chose to leave it behind as his calling card. Zack quietly left the motel room to eye the area before the town entered its busy hours. A short time passed until Rachel finally awoke, she felt refreshed after having some true sleep. She was quick to notice that she didn’t feel that enclosed warmth around her anymore, she directed her drowsy eyes around to see that Zack wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Ray started to feel a little anxious, but slid her way out of bed to find if he was in another room. Nothing. She saw that he wasn’t even in the living room, but her eyes noticed the clumsily-made bindle propped on the wall. Zack would rarely part from his scythe, so she felt a sense of relief with the knowledge that Zack was going to return. With the worries about her companion off her mind, she sat herself down on the couch and turned on the TV to check the news. After all the commotion that was made last night, word would’ve surely have gotten out. Once she flipped it onto the news, she could see an artist depiction of her and Zack clear on the screen with the words “Child in Danger” appearing as the news marquee. “The suspect is extremely dangerous, do not engage him and alert your local police immediately!” the news anchors often repeated during various speculations regarding the urgency. Ray stared at the screen for a bit, examining at her features and wondered what would make her stand out among the crowd. She had to think of a way to be of help to Zack to stay elusive, as soon as she looked upon her long locks in the drawing - the idea came to her. She got up and walked to the bathroom, Ray was quick to peruse the cabinets and drawers until she finally came upon a pair of scissors. The young girl studied herself in the mirror and began to grasp a good portion of her hair with one hand, then began to carefully snip away with the other, making sure not to make any of the ends appear a hasty mess. It wasn’t long until Zack returned from his brief observation, he appeared mildly annoyed as he swore to himself. His direction turned to the noise in the room and spotted the TV was on, which meant Ray was awake and gathering information on their situation as well. “Hey Ray, where are you at?” he called out. “I’m in the bathroom, just a moment,” Rachel replied. The young girl finished the last snips until she looked at the mirror to check the result, she ran her fingers through her shortened hair and smiled slightly to herself that she did a decent job at it. “What happened to your hair?” Rachel jumped to Zack’s voice, and turned around to see him standing at the door she had left open. “You could’ve knocked,” she said with slightly annoyed sigh. “Why knock when you left the door wide fucking open,” Zack replied, then brought a hand up to feel at her shorted hair, “Why’d you cut it?” “I felt it would help cover our tracks, my hair would’ve stuck out easily…” Ray replied, “It’ll grow back, we just need to wait until their search comes to a halt…” “Hmm…I liked it before…but I guess you’re right,” Zack mumbled before letting go of her hair. “We should get the fuck out before the owner of this place gets the news too. The town is obviously antsy, but I’m not new to this shit when it comes to staying hidden.” Rachel picked up the bits of snipped hair and threw them in a spare garbage bag that was provided with the room. “I’ll need to toss this somewhere too so they won’t know I look different…” Rachel said as she held onto the bag tightly. “You need a different outfit too, I tried finding a place where I can lift something like a fucking breeze, but as I said before, they’re edgy out there. Gotta wait until dark, so let’s get going…” Rachel nodded as Zack picked up his scythe, then the two left the room with Zack dropping the key at the door and Ray tossing her former long locks into a nearby dumpster. The town did show signs of both panic and caution, while the police patrolled the streets for any signs of the duo wandering about. They were no match for Zack and Ray’s combined cunning, as soon as the police came within a dangerously close distance, they were quick to hide or slip away in the back alleys. It proved rather difficult to keep up the routine, as they had to come up with ideas on temporary shelter and stealing food while avoiding detection. What Zack lacked on education, he did make up for in street smarts. Stealing food from distracted street vendors was no problem for Zack, and the man could sleep on pretty much anything - he was more concerned with Ray’s comfort. Once the sun had set on their strenuous day, the two were finally able to relax with less eyes wandering about the streets. Both Zack and Rachel found an empty alcove in one of the alleys, there was no trash or hazardous materials littered on the ground, only piles of leaves that Zack easily swept away with the flat side of his scythe. “No windows, small fence to jump over, pretty fucking decent spot to camp out in,” Zack thought aloud. “Hopefully those shit-for-brains cops won’t think to look here.” Rachel sat herself down on one of the corners of the alcove, she appeared a little worn from sneaking about, and gently rubbed at her aching feet. “Do they hurt?” “They’re just a little sore, some rest will do good,” Rachel replied. “I can’t have you stay walking in bare feet, who the fuck knows what you’ll step on,” Zack said as he leaned against the wall, “well since the sun’s down I guess now is a good time to try and snatch you some. You think you can handle yourself without me for a bit?” “Yeah, but I don’t have your old knife anymore…sorry…” Rachel replied as she lowered her head. “…It’s fine…I’m not pissed about it…the thing would’ve fallen apart sooner or later. I’ll pick up a better one,” Zack dismissed, then scanned the area. He set his scythe to the side and walked up to the small fence, with his inhuman brute force, he broke off a large piece of the fence and slammed a sliver off so it splintered into a sharp point, then finished it by wrapping the end with the bandages he kept on hand. He smirked at his short handiwork and handed the makeshift shank to her. “Here, if any asshole tries to give you trouble, ram this into their fucking neck,” Zack instructed. Rachel glanced at the weapon, then turned her attention to Zack, “Are you sure you can find shoes in my size?” Zack huffed at her question, “Brat…” She wasn’t wrong though, it would be a huge waste of both of their time if he brought provisions that were too big or too small for her. “I could tell you what sizes I wear, if that would help…” “Ray, you know I can’t read for shit…” Zack retorted. She hung her head some, but Zack knelt to her level, “Here, stand up a sec.” Rachel did as she was told, though with an expression of curiosity. “Not the first time I had to figure out what the fuck to steal…but it’s been so damn long since I had to snatch smaller clothes…” Zack quietly rambled. Her feet were quite small and delicate, he remembered she wore those black boots the last time they were together, they were about half the size of his own shoes - if he recalled correctly. Next was trying to figure out what other sizes she wore, he lightly brought his hands up and lightly grasped at her sides, glancing at the distances between her and his arms, doing his best to eyeball the measurement into memory. That began to prove difficult, Rachel couldn’t stop squirming. “Fuck, quit your wriggling,” Zack quietly swore. “I can’t help it, you’re tickling me…” Zack halted his hands for a moment, then glanced up at her as he noticed the red on her cheeks. “…S-seriously? Even when I do this?” he said, then lightly squeezed at her sides. Rachel flinched, then immediately grabbed at his hands to halt his actions. “Zack!” she laughed out. He stopped again, Ray’s grip on his hands loosened and she began to hear something from Zack. He was laughing, and not his usual maniacal laughter, it was a genuine and playful laugh. “You really make the stupidest face…heh heh…” he snickered. Ray huffed as she looked away, “B-be careful out there…okay?” “This is me you’re talking to,” Zack replied with a smirk, then stood back up. He grabbed his scythe and gave her half a wave as he walked away into the darkened streets. Zack had missed what it was like to stalk the streets, looking back on the memories of how he’d skulk in the cover of night and claim each random victim with ease, he smiled to himself from that little bit of nostalgia. This is a different time now, he had Ray to watch over until the promised day. Most of the stores looked empty, yet rather difficult to sneak in and grab some things, as most of them had their security systems blinking their activation light through the dark. Finally, he came across a small shop on the corner with lackluster security, Zack grinned to himself as he snuck to the back of the building and carefully climbed up along the ventilation. It was damn hard to climb up without making any sudden or loud noises, and whenever he felt close to slipping, he would wedge his scythe in the thin metal vent. Once on the rooftop came the other part, he ripped off the top of the vent and began to tear open the metal sheet that lead into the building. “Like a fucking can,” Zack thought aloud. He carefully climbed into the hole he had made and immediately went into scavenging mode. Zack spotted outdated security cameras in the building, but he smirked and loftily graced the lenses with his middle finger before swiping them down with his scythe. The store was nicely stocked with what he needed to gather, he whistled out a short tune as he unzipped his hoodie while he inspected the different sizes of clothing, nonchalantly bringing his hands up to remember the size of Ray’s body and judge whether to grab the items or pass. Zack managed to stuff a jacket, a t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a small flat cap in his hoodie before zipping it back up. Finally, he found a small pair of sneakers, swiftly snatching them out the box and kicking the cardboard away before tying the laces to his scythe to carry them. Now that the pillaging was done, it was time to amscray. Zack dragged one of the cabinets in the building and hopped upon it to climb back up through the hole. He felt pretty damn proud of himself for the successful looting. Things have been going without any trouble from Rachel’s end, she patiently waited in the alcove of the alleyway for Zack’s return, the night air made her feel slightly chilly and had tucked in her lower half in her dress, she couldn’t care for the fact she was stretching the clothing. “Hey, you still here?” a gruff and familiar voice beckoned. Rachel perked up to the sound and was quick to reply, “Yes, I’m still here…did everything go alright?” “Heh…you fucking know it…” Zack said as he walked up to Ray. He unzipped his hoodie and began to hand her the items he had stolen, Ray glimpsed at all the different clothes he had obtained, even holding them up against herself to visualize how they looked on her. “You know you can put them on instead of ogling them…” Zack grunted. Ray’s face blushed a faint red hue as she stared at the clothes, she carefully removed the tags that hung off them and discarded them to the side. “Hey…could you turn around please?” Zack’s face got a little warm from the request, but did as he was asked, “…Make it fucking quick…jeez…” “I will, sorry…” Ray replied, making sure his back faced her. “Y-Yeah, yeah…” He could hear fabric shuffling every couple of seconds while he impatiently waited, even lightly tapping his foot until he was given the all clear. “Okay Zack, you can turn around…” The man turned around to see her in the new attire with her old dress discarded to the side. “Do they fit okay?” he asked as he brought his scythe down to hand her the shoes. Rachel untied the sneakers from the hilt of the scythe and turned her attention back to Zack, “Yeah, they fit perfectly…thank you, Zack.” Zack lightly bit at the bottom of his lip as his cheeks flushed a little, “…Sure, whatever…” He allowed Ray to slip on the new shoes as he grabbed the old white dress - one more piece of evidence to get rid of. Zack tossed the clothing up and swiftly swung his scythe right through it like paper. “…And one less trail for the pigs to follow,” Zack said with a menacing chuckle. Rachel glanced at the shredded dress, then back up to Zack, watching him approach her as he pulled out a final piece of clothing from his hoodie. He gently placed the hat upon her head, but then abruptly yanked the bill over her eyes, Zack snickered as he watched her flail slightly from the sudden action. Rachel tilted the hat back up as Zack sat down next to her, and placed his scythe onto the ground beside himself. He pulled down the hood of his jacket as he tiredly ran his fingers through his black hair. “Sorry we can’t get a bed tonight, I’ll get some loaded bastard tomorrow and find us another room,” he rambled. “It’s okay…you’re more used to this than I am…I should get accustomed to it too…” Ray replied, then gave him a faint smile. Zack felt that familiar skip in his chest again, he grumbled and brought his arms over to her then pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her like he had done in the previous night. “Idiot…” he mutters under his breath, “…at least this is better than the hard ground…” Ray faintly blushed as she situated herself into a more comfortable position, and rested her head against him. “Where do you suggest we should go tomorrow?” Ray asked as her tone started to soften. “Fuck if I know, out of this area and far ahead from those assholes looking for us…maybe they can give up much quicker,” Zack replied, as he brought his hand up to lightly ruffle her hair. “Probably figure out what the fuck to do from there…until the ‘day’ comes…” Ah right, her long locks that he was so used to were gone, now the ends were just meeting her shoulders. Zack’s heterochromatic eyes gazed down at it as his hands fiddled with her hair. “Hey Ray?” “Yes, Zack?” Rachel replied. “As soon as those dipshits are off our tail…grow this back…I’m not gonna kill you if it stays short…” Ray giggled as she began to close her eyes, “I’ll grow it back…don’t worry.” “Hmph…brat…” Zack rebutted, then brought his hands to squeeze at her sides again. As soon as she began squirming under his light grip, he let out a soft laugh, rather amused at her reaction and this innocent vulnerability. Zack returned his hands in their previous positions once he felt Rachel bury her face in slight frustration. “I know it’s a couple times now…but…I’ve never heard you laugh like that…” Ray whispered. “…What about it?” “Nothing bad…it sounded very pure,” Rachel replied, then tilted her head to peek up at him. Zack paused to think about it, he truly never did laugh in such a way, and the only person to have ever bring that side of him out – was Ray. It seemed this untapped side of him he never knew, Rachel was capable to draw it out. It was a foreign yet pleasant feeling to have someone beside him that reminded him that there was another aspect of him besides a killer. Possibly it was that aspect that Ray meant that she felt safe and secure with him. With him. His heart began to beat much more rapidly for a reason different from thrill, he took off the hat from her head and dropped it beside the two of them. Before Ray could question his strange action, she could feel him press his lips on her forehead, an action that immediately made her freeze while her cheeks turned a rosy red. As Zack pulled away, he was swift to divert his eyes from her and pull his hoodie back up to hide his face. “G-get some fucking sleep…o-okay?” Rachel appeared dumbfounded from what happened, but she didn’t want to pry Zack about it – at least not now. She snuggled herself back into a comfortable spot against him, closed her eyes, and listened as Zack’s rapid heartbeat gradually slowed down to its regular pace. As time passed, Zack felt Ray’s body get slightly heavier than usual, which meant she had drifted off to sleep. He shifted against the wall slightly to get in a comfier position before he too closed his eyes to get some rest. With traces of Ray’s identity discarded, they felt like they were miles ahead of anyone trying to catch the pair, and a whole new path opened for them to begin a journey through.
10164719	to Stay	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Gotham City, Batman, Robin (DCU), Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin - Character", "Fandom": "Batman - All Media Types", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Missyover9", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-07T00:00:00", "words": "218", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Gotham couldn’t hold onto anyone, but no one ever really left either. The people who lived there never moved to a safer place. The Old Money society was a permanent fixture in the crime ridden city. The heroes though, the ones sworn to protect the city, they never stayed. The Batman disappeared, before he ever put on the cowl. He came back, but he didn’t stay forever. The first Robin was in Gotham one night, and in Bludhaven wearing different colors the next. The second Robin died, came back to Gotham, and then wandered the country, never settling down. The third Robin did his part, then moved across the country to Jump City with a brand new team. The girls came and went and stayed in the shadows. The last Robin appeared. He was there until there was no more Robin. He was there when it was just Batman. But none of them really left Gotham. Not in their heads. The Batman always held onto Gotham, protecting it from afar. Nightwing took up the sister city and caged in the darkness. The Red Hood fought with guns like he never left. Red Robin built files and kept secrets to hide the terror.So they never really left Gotham. Because of this, they always came back when she called.
10114400	A tes 30 ans Vincent	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Vincent Dedienne, Hugo Clément, Martin Weill, Yann Barthès, Ali Baddou, Azzedine et Valentine, Michoko", "Fandom": null, "Language": "Français", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Petitecrique", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00", "words": "4,239", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Vincent Dedienne/Hugo Clément, Martin Weill/Yann Barthès", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Quotidien (TV) RPF, Le Petit Journal (TV)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	A tes 30 ans Vincent ! Vincent et Hugo sortaient du studio, ils se chamaillaient encore, pour des bêtises, mais ça les faisait bien rire. Il faisait froid dehors et les deux hommes frissonnèrent au contact mordant du froid sur leur visage. - Tu prends un taxi ? demanda Hugo à l’autre homme. - Oh nan ! Je vais marcher un peu vers le métro t’inquiète. Je suis touuuut coincé de partout, surtout du dos, faut que je marche. Répondit le comédien en riant. - Ok je t’accompagne alors ! lui répondit Hugo en riant. T’as mal partout ? Petit vieux va ! - Ah bah c’est ça d’avoir 30 ans hein ! On se sent vieux et on a des courbatures partout ! - 30 ans c’est pas vieux Vincent, arrête tes conneries. T’es très bien conservé pour ton âge franchement ! rétorqua le plus jeune d’un air taquin en lui donnant un p’tit coup dans le bras. Vincent sourit mais ne répondit pas. Ça le touchait ce que disait le journaliste. Il avait vraiment du mal à passer le cap des 30 ans… Il sourit d’un seul coup d’un air bête. - Ça fait quoi d’embrasser un vieux de 30 ans ? demanda-t-il alors à celui qui l’accompagnait. Hugo sourit. Vincent faisait référence à leur petite vidéo qu’il avait posté sur sa page Facebook. Hugo demandait aux internautes de venir l’aider, parce que Vincent l’accrochait comme une sangsue. Il avait fini par tourner la tête vers celui-ci et Vincent l’avait smacké. Juste un petit baiser de rien du tout, leurs lèvres s’étaient à peine touchées, mais ça les avait fait marrer. Et ça avait suffi pour troubler le journaliste l’espace d’un instant. Hugo ne s’était jamais senti attiré par les hommes. Ça lui arrivait de trouver certains hommes séduisants, mais c’était presque normal, jamais il n’avait ressenti d’attirance ou de désir envers eux. Avec Vincent c’était différent. Ils s’étaient rencontrés l’année d’avant, lors de la réunion Bangumi pour la nouvelle année médiatique. Ils étaient encore sur Canal et étaient réunies les équipes du Petit Journal et du Supplément, les deux émissions que produisaient Yann Barthès et Laurent Bon. La réunion s’était bien passé, ils avaient présenté les petits nouveaux, dont Hugo faisait partie avec Panayotis. Ils avaient dû monter sur une petite estrade pour se présenter. C’était assez gênant de devoir se présenter à toute la rédaction avait trouvé Hugo. - Bon bah je m’appelle Hugo Clément, euh Hugo c’est mon prénom ! Je sais que certains sont perdus un peu la première fois, et puis y a déjà un Clément… J’ai bientôt 26 ans et je suis né à Strasbourg, je le vis bien vous inquiétez pas ! A ce moment-là il avait entendu rire, un rire un peu aigu, mais qui sans nul doute appartenait bien à un homme. Il avait tenté de mettre un visage sur ce rire, mais peine perdue, il y avait beaucoup trop de monde dans la rédaction, et à part des visages très familiers comme Yann Barthès, Laurent Bon et Ali Badou et bien sûr Martin Weill qu’il connaissait depuis plusieurs années, Hugo ne connaissait pas du tout les autres et n’aurait pas pu le retrouver. - Bon sinon plus sérieusement je débarque de France Télévision et je suis très honoré de travailler pour Bangumi ! Merci encore messieurs, avait-il dit en se tournant vers Yann et Laurent. Ah oui ! Bon bah je suis journaliste hein pour ceux qui n’auraient pas compris ! Reporter un peu, mais pas comme Martin, j’arriverai jamais à égaler son nombre hallucinant de tours du monde. Ils avaient tous ri, Hugo était drôle comme garçon. Ce n’est qu’après, quand le buffet s’ouvrit et qu’une réunion moins formelle commença qu’on lui présenta Vincent. Hugo était en train de parler avec la magnifique Valentine Oberti et Ali Badou. Vincent discutait avec Azzedine un peu plus loin et il était passé devant le petit groupe en allant chercher un petit truc à grignoter. - Ah attends Vincent ! l’avait interpelé Ali. Tu dis pas bonjour au nouveau reporter de choc ? Vincent avait souri puis avait tendu sa main vers Hugo et avait planté ses yeux dans les siens, sans autre forme de procès. Il avait un très beau sourire et sans qu’il ait put dire pourquoi, le cœur d’Hugo s’était mis à battre un peu plus vite. - Enchanté Hugo ! Moi c’est Vincent. - Salut Vincent ! Très joli chemise ! Le ton d’Hugo était taquin. - Ah je vois que ça commence à se moquer, c’est pas bien ça M. Clément ! Elle est effectivement très jolie cette chemise. Les 3 autres avaient pouffé. Très jolie n’était pas le terme approprié. Elle était colorée, intéressante d’une certaine manière, on voyait de loin Vincent ça c’était sympa, mais « très jolie » ne convenait pas, non. - T’en as beaucoup des comme ça ? pouffa Hugo - Oooh ! Mais c’est qu’il est humoriste le gamin dîtes-moi ! - Désolé je voulais pas te vexer ! dit Hugo d’un air amusé. - Oh mon chat il m’en faut plus pour être vexé, j’en ai entendu tellement dans cette équipe. Valentine avait pouffé. - Fais l’innocente toi tiens ! avait déclaré Vincent à son égard. Mais son regard était bienveillant, et on sentait qu’il était plus vraisemblablement amusé que vexé. - Tu fais quoi sinon au sein du Supplément ? avait demandé Hugo réellement intéressé. Il n’avait pas vu Ali et Valentine se regarder, se sourire et puis disparaitre, laissant les deux hommes seuls. - Les Bios Interdites ! Je fais plus ou moins une biographie de l’invité, ou des invités. En fait de base je suis comédien, mais comme faut bien trouver un moyen de manger, me voilà dans cette émission ! Je me plains pas ! C’est la 2e année, j’adore travailler avec Laurent, c’est grâce à lui si je suis là. Vincent avait souri et ça avait semblé à Hugo illuminer la pièce. Après ça ils s’étaient rarement revus, puis Yann et Laurent étaient partis de Canal avec leurs équipes dans leurs valises et ils avaient atterri à TMC où ils étaient plutôt très bien pour l’instant. Vincent avait rejoint l’équipe de Quotidien, ils avaient fait fusionner les deux équipes, Petit Journal et Supplément. L’amitié entre les deux hommes avait réellement commencé depuis qu’ils étaient réunis dans Quotidien. Ils se chamaillaient sans cesse, se cherchaient de manière plus ou moins dissimulée, surtout Vincent, il aimait bien provoquer son petit reporter préféré. Hugo ne se plaignait pas, il adorait que le comédien le cherche. Hugo finit par répondre au comédien. - C’était plutôt sympa à vrai dire ! J’ai de la chance, t’es pas encore tout ridé. Le comédien le regarda. Il lui souriait vraiment, il avait du mal à contenir la joie d’une telle déclaration. Le journaliste le regarda, il souriait aussi, le sourire de Vincent était contagieux. - Quoi ? demanda le strasbourgeois d’un air amusé. - Nan bah rien ! C’est juste que t’as dit que c’était sympa… Je crois que je retiendrai ça toute ma vie ! Hugo Clément qui a kiffé m’embrasser, alors là, ça me fait ma soirée ! Vincent était mort de rire. Dans son allégresse il ne vit pas qu’Hugo s’était arrêté un instant pour le regarder. Il s’en rendit compte au moment de traverser la rue, il se retourna et vit qu’Hugo s’était arrêté quelques mètres plus loin. - Bah alors ? Tu viens pas ? Hugo ne lui répondit pas, il le regardait d’une drôle de manière. Vincent revint sur ses pas, d’un air un peu excédé. - Qu’est-ce que tu fous Hugo ? J’ai la dalle moi, je voudrais bien rentrer ! Sans savoir réellement comment, d’une manière presque instinctive, Hugo s’approcha doucement de Vincent. Puis il l’attrapa par le bras, l’attira contre lui et plaqua ses lèvres contre les siennes. Vincent n’eut même pas le temps de réfléchir. Et puis la sensation était tellement agréable. Il poussa un soupir d’aise et se colla un peu plus au journaliste. Les deux hommes semblaient comme seuls au monde au milieu de la rue. Ils finirent par se séparer, presque à bout de souffle. - Non seulement M. Hugo Clément a dit qu’il kiffait m’avoir smacké, mais en plus il vient me chercher pour un autre baiser, et celui-là c’était un vrai. Je commence à croire que tu m’aimes bien… dit-il d’un air taquin. - C’était très sympa aussi de te rouler une pelle cher Vincent ! Le journaliste commençait à se détacher du comédien, mais ce dernier ne l’entendait pas de cette oreille, il passa ses bras autour du cou de son cadet et l’attira à lui pour un autre baiser. Ce n’était pas des baisers passionnels, colériques, où leurs langues cherchent à dominer celle de l’autre, non au contraire, c’était des baisers d’une douceur incroyable, tendres, passionnels à leur manière. Ce baiser-là dura encore plus longtemps que le précédent, et pour les passants qui les croisèrent il semblait presque impossible de distinguer les deux hommes tellement leurs corps étaient entremêlés. Ils finirent par rompre le baiser, à bout de souffle. Ils se sentaient incroyablement légers d’avoir enfin partagé un tel moment d’intimité. Hugo prit le comédien dans ses bras, celui-ci logea sa tête contre son cou et ferma les yeux. Ils frissonnaient pris par l’émotion. Ils se sentaient à la fois étrangement vulnérables et incroyablement forts. Hugo embrassa l’autre homme sur la tempe et lui murmura à l’oreille « allez viens ! Je t’invite à dîner pour fêter ton anniversaire ». Ils se détachèrent, et pour les quelques mètres qui les séparaient de la bouche de métro ils se prirent la main avec tendresse, n’ayant pas peur de dévoiler leur idylle naissante. Dans le métro ils se tenaient l’un contre l’autre, Hugo adossé contre les strapontins et lui faisant face, s’accrochant à son manteau, Vincent. Ils riaient pour rien ou peu, ils se fichaient pas mal de ce qu’on pouvait penser d’eux, ils étaient biens, plongés dans les yeux de l’autre. « C’est un vrai rendez-vous galant » se dit Vincent, et son cœur manqua de s’envoler de bonheur à cette idée. Hugo rattrapa plusieurs fois le comédien qui manquait de tomber à cause du freinage du métro. Loin d’avoir peur le mâconnais était au contraire mort de rire et s’accrochait un peu plus fort au jeune homme qui lui faisait face. Ils finirent par sortir du métro et Hugo guida le comédien jusqu’au petit restaurant qu’il connaissait et qu’il aimait bien. Il y avait déjà amené certains de ses amis, mais là les choses étaient différentes. Il s’approcha du monsieur qui accueillait les clients. - Bonsoir monsieur, messieurs, dit le maître d’hôtel en voyant arriver les deux hommes. - Bonsoir monsieur, serait-il possible d’avoir une table pour deux dans un endroit discret ? Je sais qu’on n’a pas réservé, mais c’est pour un anniversaire, 30 ans ça se fête dignement quand-même ! Hugo offrit son plus beau sourire à l’homme qui lui faisait face. Celui-ci leur dit qu’il allait regarder et revenir leur dire. - Bah t’as qu’à le draguer tant que t’y es ! Il est pas un peu vieux pour toi ? demanda le comédien quand le maitre d’hôtel partit regarder. - Dans la vie on a rien sans rien ! répondit Hugo en adressant un clin d’œil à Vincent. Tu serais pas un peu jaloux toi ? ajouta t-il à l’attention du comédien qui nia en rougissant. - Messieurs ! Nous avons une table pour vous si cela vous intéresse. Elle est dans une salle où il n’y a pas d’autres clients. Cela vous convient-il ? - Une aubaine ! Merci infiniment ! répondit le journaliste. La salle était très jolie, pas très grande, mais relativement confortable. Ce n’était presque que des tables pour deux et ils étaient réellement seuls. La lumière était légèrement tamisée, ce qui donnait une vraie ambiance romantique, ce qui n’était pas pour déplaire aux deux hommes qui étaient en train de s’assoir. Vincent regardait tout autour de lui, quelque peu ébahi. - Ça te plait ? demanda Hugo au trentenaire. - C’est magnifique ! Je suis content d’être là avec toi, répondit Vincent tout sourire. Hugo vint chercher la main de Vincent et entremêla leurs doigts. Ils se regardaient tendrement, aucun des deux n’avait envie de se mentir sur les sentiments qui le liaient à l’autre. Ils se plaisaient mutuellement, ils n’avaient pas envie de se courir après 1000 ans. Hugo avait un exemple très direct et concret avec Martin qui attendait que Yann se décide, alors que tous les deux savaient que l’autre était amoureux, ils ne faisaient que se tourner autour dans une danse fatigante. Hugo voulait profiter de l’homme merveilleux qui lui faisait face. Ils se lâchèrent la main quand on leur apporta les cartes. Pas par honte d’être vu ensemble, mais plutôt par pudeur, ce moment n’appartenait qu’à eux. Ils hésitèrent un temps sur le menu puis se décidèrent et commandèrent d’abord un apéritif. Ils étaient en train de discuter quand on leur apporta. - Bon, et bah… A ton anniversaire alors Vincent ! A tes 30 ans ! - Roh… 30 ans quand-même ! Continue à dire que je suis trentenaire et je saute dans la Seine ! rétorqua Vincent en riant. - Oh bah non, ce serait dommage quand-même ! lui répondit Hugo en lui faisant un clin d’œil. Vincent lui sourit et ils trinquèrent. Ils avaient pris le même cocktail et ils étaient d’accord pour dire que c’était vraiment très bon. Le repas se passa calmement, ils ne virent pas le temps passer. Ils se rendaient compte qu’il y avait pleins de choses qu’ils ne savaient pas sur l’autre et ce fut le bon moment pour les confidences, ils étaient toujours seuls dans leur petite salle, et à part les serveurs personne ne vint les déranger. Ils eurent tout le loisir de se dévorer des yeux, de se tenir la main comme un jeune couple et de se découvrir un peu mieux. Vint le moment du dessert. Ils commandèrent tous les deux la même chose, un moelleux au chocolat avec une boule de glace à la vanille, quelque chose de sobre, mais de bon. Vincent prit l’autre main d’Hugo dans les siennes. Ils se regardèrent droit dans les yeux de manière tendre. Puis Vincent s’approcha doucement d’Hugo et vint saisir ses lèvres. Ils restèrent là un moment puis se séparèrent en riant. La position n’était pas très confortable, ils devaient passer par-dessus la table et ça les faisait rire. La fin du diner arriva et ils demandèrent l’addition. Le serveur leur apporta et Hugo se jeta dessus avant que Vincent n’ait pu esquisser le moindre mouvement. - Hugo… - Je t’invite ! rétorqua le journaliste en tentant d’empêcher le comédien d’attraper l’addition qu’il tenait dans la main. - Nan ! Je refuse que tu payes ! - Mais… T’as pas le choix ! Pour ton anniversaire c’est moi qui t’invite ! Tu payeras la prochaine fois si t’as envie, mais pas ce soir ! Laisse-moi me comporter en gentleman ! - Roh ! Mais je suis pas une donzelle frêle et fragile bordel ! dit Vincent d’un air mi- excédé et mi- amusé. Hugo se mit à rire en entendant les propos du comédien, il avait toujours le mot pour rendre n’importe quelle situation amusante. - Promis la prochaine fois c’est moi qui tiendrait le rôle de la donzelle frêle et fragile que tu inviteras au restaurant ! lui répondit-il d’un air amusé. Pourquoi tu souris comme ça comme un idiot ? rajouta-t-il. - Ça fait deux fois que tu parles de la prochaine fois ! Ça m’amuse. Attention M. Clément ! Vous vous attachez beaucoup trop vite, vous allez y laisser votre cœur, déclara Vincent d’un air provocateur en regardant Hugo dans les yeux. - Eh bien je vous laisse tout M. Dedienne, mon cœur, mon corps, pour une nuit ou plus, autant que vous le voudrez. Vincent rougit de plaisir mais ne répondit rien, parce qu’il n’y avait rien à répondre. Hugo paya puis ils sortirent affronter le froid d’une nuit de février. Ils marchaient, un peu sans but précis dans les rues de Paris. Ils discutaient. Hugo avait mis les mains dans les poches de son blouson, Vincent avait attrapé son bras et il semblait ne plus vouloir le lâcher, ce qui n’avait pas l’air de déranger Hugo qui le bouffait littéralement des yeux. Soudain le mâconnais regarda le strasbourgeois d’un air intense. - J’ai l’air d’une « fille facile » si je t’invite maintenant à prendre un dernier verre chez moi ? - Nan, déjà parce que tu es un homme, enfin je crois, et que par conséquent je ne crois pas tu puisses être appelé « fille facile » et puis non parce que non tout simplement, lui répondit le journaliste en riant. - Bon bah alors direction chez moi cher M. Clément. - Très bien je vous suis monsieur Dedienne ! Ils marchèrent en silence un moment puis Vincent se remit à parler. - Ça me fait plaisir que tu aies accepté ! Comme ça je vais pouvoir te présenter Michoko mon amour ! Il arrête pas de me parler de toi tu sais ? A chaque fois il me dit « mais Vincent très cher maître, qui est ce magnifique jeune homme qui te dévore des yeux à chaque fois que tu es sur le plateau de Quotidien ? ». Je te jure que c’est vrai Hugo arrête de te marrer ! Je vois que tu me crois pas ! Méchant garçon ! Ce chat t’adore ! Je crois qu’il est amoureux de toi ! Le fou rire d’Hugo repartit de plus belle à la dernière phrase de Vincent. Décidément le comédien le faisait vraiment beaucoup rire. - Et puis comme ça je pourrai enfin visiter ton modeste intérieur, répondit Hugo quand il se fut calmé. - On parle toujours de mon appartement n’est-ce pas Hugo … ? - Mais pourquoi tu vois des sous-entendus sexuels partout ? demanda Hugo en recommençant à rire. - Mais parce que tu rends tout sexuel Hugo ! Même quand tu parles de fromage c’est sexuel !! Vincent faisait référence à la façon dont Hugo avait dit au serveur qu’ils ne désiraient pas prendre de fromage. Il ne s’était pas rendu compte sur le coup, mais maintenant qu’ils en reparlaient sa voix avait effectivement quelque chose de sexuel ou du moins de sensuel. - Le gars il a pas compris ! Il était tranquille, il était persuadé d’être hétérosexuel et là bam ! Tu lui parles de fromage et le gars d’un seul coup il se demande s’il est pas gay ! Nan mais je te jure Hugo ne rit pas ! J’ai vu son regard ! Il doute grave le gars maintenant ! Il est en pleine crise identitaire et c’est ta faute ! Il sait plus… Et toi évidemment ça te fait rire forcément ! Salaud Hugo, salaud ! Hugo s’était arrêté en plein milieu du trottoir sous le regard interloqué des passants. Il avait un fou rire, il riait tellement qu’il n’arrivait plus à marcher. Vincent le regardait en riant, plus Vincent en faisait des caisses et plus Hugo riait. Et bien sûr plus Hugo riait et plus Vincent en faisait des caisses.Le trajet jusqu’à l’appartement du comédien fut très long. Hugo riait encore en arrivant devant l’immeuble. Il avait dû se retenir de ne pas exploser de rire dans le métro parce que Vincent continuait, tout contre son oreille, à raconter des bêtises. Vincent ouvrit la porte de l’immeuble et les fit monter. Lorsqu’il ouvrit la porte de l’appartement Hugo vit une boule de poils gris venir se frotter aux jambes du propriétaire qui le prit dans ses bras. - Michoko mon petit cœur regarde qui voilà ! - Salut petite boule de poils, dit Hugo d’un air attendri en caressant la petite tête toute mignonne du félin. Félin qui frotta sa tête contre les doigts du journaliste. - Ah bah tu vois ! Ce chat t’aime ! Tout le monde t’aime Hugo ! Ça devient gênant ! Hugo se remit à rire. Vincent l’invita à s’assoir sur le canapé et alla chercher 2 verres et une bouteille de vin blanc. - Bon je sais pas ce que ça vaut, mais je me dis qu’on peut tester nan ? J’y connais rien en vin. Tu t’y connais toi ? - Fais voir ? C’est un bon vin et une bonne année. Ça devrait être bon ! De toute façon pour savoir il faut goûter ! - J’aime cet état d’esprit, répondit le comédien en lui tendant le tire-bouchon. Hugo déboucha la bouteille et les servit. Vincent vint s’assoir à côté de lui sur le canapé, mais de côté, de façon à être un minimum face à lui, il avait replié ses jambes sous lui et avait un bras sur le dossier du canapé. Hugo porta le verre à son nez, ferma les yeux et huma le vin. Il sourit, le vin avait vraiment une très bonne odeur, il y trempa alors les lèvres. Il était aussi bon que son odeur le laissait présager. Les deux hommes discutèrent encore, de tout et de rien, en sirotant lentement leur vin, de manière à bien profiter de tous les arômes qu’il renfermait. Puis Hugo cessa de parler et regarda Vincent. Vincent lui sourit, d’un air doux, tendre. Hugo s’approcha alors de l’homme qui lui faisait face, posa son verre sur la table basse et vint embrasser l’autre homme. Celui-ci poussa un petit soupir, posa aussi son verre et passa une de ses mains dans les cheveux du journaliste, l’autre étant posée sur son bras. Puis d’un seul coup Hugo poussa un petit cri contre les lèvres du comédien, Michoko venait de sauter sur ses jambes sans prévenir, mais comme le terrain n’était pas très stable, il avait planté ses griffes dans les cuisses du journaliste. Vincent éclata de rire lorsqu’il comprit la teneur du cri (pas très virile) de son cadet. Hugo riait lui aussi, il n’avait pas vraiment mal, mais disons qu’il avait été surpris. Le petit chat finit par trouver une place sur les genoux du journaliste qui le câlina. Puis Vincent en eut marre d’attendre et il délogea la petite bête des cuisses du plus jeune. « Désolé Michoko, mais moi aussi j’ai envie d’en profiter ! ». Il attrapa le journaliste par la main et l’entraina dans sa chambre. Tant pis si ça ne devait être qu’un coup d’un soir, tant pis si leur relation devenait étrange après ça, le comédien ne voulait rien regretter. Il ferma la porte de sa chambre et dès que ce fut fait et qu’il se retourna vers le plus jeune, il le sentit se coller contre lui, coller leurs bassins et l’entrainer dans un baiser fougueux, qui n’avait plus rien à voir avec les baisers qu’ils avaient échangés jusqu’ici. Si jusque-là il y avait dans leurs baisers une certaine tendresse, une certaine émotion contenue, il n’y avait dans ceux-ci que du désir qui pour le coup n’était ni contenu, ni dissimulé. Les vêtements des deux hommes volèrent rapidement et ils se laissèrent tomber dans le lit du plus âgé. Hugo avait parcouru le corps du plus vieux de sa bouche, s’était arrêté longuement sur son sexe, entrainant son partenaire jusqu’au bord du précipice. Puis il l’avait pénétré et faisait à présent des va et viens contre son bassin. Vincent avait enroulé ses jambes autour des hanches de son partenaire et ses mains jouaient à présent dans la chevelure blonde du journaliste. Il se mordait les lèvres à chaque mouvement pour se retenir de crier. Des gémissements s’échappaient cependant de ses lèvres parfois, pour le plus grand plaisir d’Hugo. Il se disait que c’était décidément un très joli son et qu’il avait très envie de l’entendre le plus souvent possible, bien sûr il se garda de le dire à l’homme sous lui. Bientôt les gémissements furent de plus en plus difficiles à contenir pour les deux hommes qui se perdaient dans les ondes de plaisir que la rencontre de leurs deux corps produisait. Leurs mains étaient venues se rejoindre contre les draps, leurs bouches se cherchaient, les mouvements de bassin du plus jeune se faisaient moins précis, le plus vieux venant à la rencontre du corps de l’autre, ils n’allaient pas tarder à tomber dans l’abysse du plaisir. Un dernier coup de rein les fit basculer, le plaisir les inonda, leur souffle se coupa et il leur fallut plusieurs minutes pour reprendre leurs esprits. Aucun des deux hommes ne s’attendait à ça. Ils ne pensaient pas que le plaisir serait aussi intense, violent, dévastateur. A présent ils étaient couchés dans les bras l’un de l’autre, ils somnolaient à moitié, profitant de l’impression de bonheur absolu qui s’était installé après leur orgasme. Hugo avait pris Vincent dans ses bras, il plantait de minuscules baisers dans ses cheveux, sur sa tempe, pendant que Vincent caressait du bout des doigts le bras d’Hugo qui l’enlaçait. Ils étaient bien tout simplement. Ils se mirent à rire en entendant de l’autre côté de la porte Michoko qui miaulait et grattait pour qu’on le laisse entrer. Vincent finit par lui ouvrir, par pitié, le petit chat avait l’habitude de dormir avec son maître. Cependant comme si le petit félin avait compris le besoin d’intimité des deux hommes qui se trouvaient face à lui, il ne vint pas se coucher contre Vincent comme il en avait l’habitude, mais au pied du lit, comme s’il voulait laisser les deux amants entre eux, comme s’il ne voulait pas les déranger. Dans un commun accord silencieux les deux hommes décidèrent qu’il était temps pour eux de dormir, demain serait chargé en promesses, en adieux silencieux et en espoir. Les bras d’Hugo se refermèrent sur la taille de son amant et il vint coller son bassin contre son dos. Vincent souriait. Il était heureux parce qu’Hugo restait dormir et il se sentait fort. Peut-être que le plus jeune ne serait plus là demain matin, mais pour Vincent ça n’avait pas d’importance. Parce qu’Hugo était là ce soir et qu’il le serrait contre lui. Et pour Vincent il y avait un parfum d’espoir dans l’air. Quelque chose qui lui faisait dire que leur histoire ne faisait que commencer et qu’elle allait être très belle. Le comédien calant sa respiration sur celle de son amant finit par s’endormir.
10193012	Lances Livestream	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron)", "Fandom": "Voltron: Legendary Defender", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by fictiongull", "chapters": "2/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "2,165", "Additional Tags": "YouTube, Lance is a YouTuber AU, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith loves Lance's channel, light klance, Oneshot, cursing, Mild Language, youtuber!au", "Relationship": "Keith/Lance (Voltron)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Hunk checked the lights and the camera; Lance checked the mirror to see that he was ready.It's almost time guys, only thirty more seconds! Lance typed out to the 12,967 people already watching the stream. He turned to Hunk."We ready, Hunk?""Everything's good and waiting for you."Lance laughed nervously. "I'm so fucking worried about this.""What? You do this every week and I'm here this time.""This time it's live - it's different."Hunk moved from behind the camera to slap his friend on the shoulder. "Everything will be fine, bro. This is the next step and you're gonna do great."Lance smiled. "Thanks, man."On went the camera. Lance leaned in."So, what's up, my Legendary Defenders? It's TheLegendLance here, accompanied by none other than my main man Hunk behind the camera." - "Hey!" - "So today is something very special, it's something I've talked about doing for ages now: it's the Live Fan Call! I asked for your numbers a few crazy people actually sent them in. Hunk, do you have the list?""Here it is." Hunk passed the sheet to Lance with a flourish."Hmm," Lance pored over the list, "we will go with... K.O.Gane. If you're watching, get ready because we're about to call yoooou!"He typed in the number, double checked, put loudspeaker on and called. The line rang... and rang... and rang..."Ooh, is anyone gonna pick up?""Wait," Hunk said excitedly, "I hear something.""The owner can't take your call right now," a robotic voice intoned, "so please leave your message after-- Hello?""They picked up!" Lance punched the air and Hunk joined in."Hello? Is anyone there? It's Keith here.""Yes, yes, it's Lance and Hunk here. No, actually it's TheLegendLance and you're my first ever live fan call. Are you happy to hear me?""Ha, yeah, I'm glad I got to my phone in time.""Good! Now, you almost didn't pick up, so are you a true Legendary Defender or are you a hater?" Lance raised his eyebrows to the camera."Definitely a Defender.""A Legendary Defender?"Keith laughed nervously. "Yeah, totally.""I didn't hear you say it. Let me hear the love."There was the slightest hesitation down the line. "I'm a Legendary Defender."Lance winked at the camera. "Good. Now we've got that cleared up, tell us a bit about yourself. Keith's the name, right?"Keith was glad no one could see him smile. "Yeah, I'm Keith, I almost missed your call because I just got home and I think you've got room for improvement in your videos, especially the simulator ones."Lance burst out laughing. "Hey, I happen to be amazing at Goat Simulator! Sounds like we've got a critic here, you want to show me how it's done?""Sure, I'd be happy to. Anytime.""But I'm pretty cool, aren't I? I'm a sharpshooter of jokes.""Are you?"Lance leaned towards the camera. "Can you believe this guy?""I'm watching the video, you know.""Obviously you're watching: I'm great, no matter what you say. And it's Legendary Defender, not Legendary Offender!"Keith laughed and Lance grinned in success. "See, I knew you loved me really.""Don't worry, I do love you, Lance.""Okay then, Keith, I think we're ready to take...""THE PALADIN CHALLENGE!" Lance and Hunk shouted together."I'm ready, guys," Keith said, sitting at his desk and forgetting the stupid grin on his face. Now was the time."First question: What was my nickname in the first GTA Let's Play I ever did?""Easy. The Tailor.""Correctamundo! That was too easy though. Question two: If I had to choose, which bending ability would I have from Avatar: The Last Airbender?"Keith paused to think. "Was it waterbending?""Ooh, correct again but only just this time. Three: what's the name of the cat in my Sims Let's Play?""Blue. And I'm pretty sure she was a baby lion, not just a cat.""True, true," Lance admitted, "and Hunk is saying you should get double points for that. Question four: what's the one thing I always forget?""All those bonding moments with your friends, maybe?""Don't know what you're talking about." He looked up. "No, Hunk, you're not allowed to give him a point for that." There was a muffled conversation. "I do not! Anyway, the answer I was looking for was my passwords. You'll need this last point to become a Paladin, Keith! Final question:..."Lance stood up and walked about, muttering, until after a minute he stopped next to the camera looking out the window."Yes, I know what to ask. Since you can't see on the video, correctly guess what the weather is like outside my window and I'll make you a Paladin.""Wha- How? That's impossible! I'll never be able to guess," Keith protested."Just... use your imagination, or maybe even observation. Deduce what the weather is like here." Lance turned to the camera and smirked."I'll go with cloudy, overcast and gray.""You'll have to do better than that; that could be anywhere," Lance said."Well, foggy too then - I can barely see anything out my window."Lance stood up slowly. "That's... right." If he was happy for his fan, the viewers thought, he didn't show it. He frowned, put his face up to the glass of the window and squinted. Sure enough, there was a red and black silhouette in the top window of his neighbors' house. "Keith Kogane?! Shit." He fell back into his chair, his eyes wild."Oh fuck," Keith said, ending the call and dropping his phone as if it had burned him."Shit, shit, shit," Lance said as he scrambled to stop recording."Lance, the mic's still on! What's going on?" Hunk said."That was my neighbor Keith! My neighbor! He said he loved me.""Oh shit, not the neighbor you've got a crush on?"The audio cut out and the stream ended. Keith, still paralyzed in shock in his bedroom chair, couldn't believe his ears. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Keith. He couldn’t stop staring out the window. There was nothing in Keith’s window, only a dark space in the house between a grey road below and a grey sky above. No one was there. Keith.“Hunk?”“Yeah?”“What just happened?”Hunk rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. “Well, I think I told everyone you’ve got a crush on your neighbor. Lance, I- I’m sorry. You know I really didn’t mean—”Lance waved his apology away. “It’s fine, doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “Don’t worry about it.” But he still didn’t look around, so Hunk set about putting the equipment away.Lance joined him and they soon had the room looking disconcertingly sparse: to Hunk’s surprise, Lance had packed everything up and pushed it beneath his bed. Guess that means no “Ask Lance” video on Wednesday, Hunk thought.They sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on knees, silent. As the minutes passed and Lance simply sat there, Hunk worried. He’d never seen his friend in such speechless misery before. But as he wondered if he should be there, and if Lance had forgotten that he was there at all, Lance spoke in a quiet voice.“I don’t know what to do.” He looked at Hunk with tears in his eyes. “Hunk, what the fuck am I gonna do?”He had an arm over Lance’s shoulders in seconds. “We could go over there, or —hey! You’ve got his number now. You could call him?”Hunk hadn’t thought it was possible for Lance to look more miserable as the words registered. “I can’t. I can’t! And I don’t want to anyway. It’s silly. You know, it’s kind of stupid. All this — the stream, the phone-in idea, Keith! — it’s all a mess.”What are people thinking about this? Are fans going to unsubscribe now I’ve said I’m interested in a guy? He had always been open about being bi, but he couldn’t help wondering, which only made him feel guilty. None of that matters.Someone knocked on the front door. Hunk froze, and his eyes slid over to Lance, but if he had heard, he showed no sign of getting up.“Lance? The door,” he whispered.Lance shrugged. “It’s probably just Mrs McDonald. Don’t bother: she never knocks twice. She doesn’t have the patience.”Hunk was shaken. Lance loved Mrs McDonald and they’d even been over to her house together a couple of times. But Lance was proven right in the end: there was no second knock on the door.* * *Keith’s head rose from the pillow, filled with dread and fuzzy teeth. 16:13, the clock flashed. His head fell back in disgust. Only half an hour had passed.One moment haunted him, and he knew it had been on his mind nonstop since that afternoon. Lance had looked out his window and they’d seen each other. It was the way he had spoken his name. “Keith Kogane.” A shiver had run down Keith’s spine, charged with a wild energy.He’d felt sick; it was like a cruel nightmare, and worse now he’d woken up and found it was still real.He put his feet to the floor and groaned, his head in his hands and the room silent around him apart from a ringing in his ears.Why? That was the question, or several of them. He had an answer for none of it. Maybe the worst of it was that he could find out everything he wanted to know, if he picked up the phone or crossed the road.Why didn’t I use a fake name, a fake account? Why— How did he remember me? Who goes live and says anything like that?The world was quiet: too quiet and calm for him. He made his way over to the desk. Was there anything he could write out, someone he could talk to? No. No, no, no. It happened. Now deal with it, Keith. But he had to do something, which led him to his bedroom door and down the hall and the stairs, and finally outside.It was a warm, sunless afternoon with heat radiating from the pavement as he made the short journey down the road. Wrapped in his thoughts, it seemed to Keith that within the blink of an eye he stood before Lance’s door.He stopped with his hand outstretched — what do I say? — and knocked. Knots he hadn’t realised were there tightened in his stomach. He was painfully aware of the silence that had followed him outside, a silence that not a single thing broke for the minutes he stood there.Nothing. He heard nothing, saw nothing, and the house gave away nothing. He hesitated, waiting just one more second for a sign he knew wasn’t coming, and left.-He opened the door to find Shiro unpacking groceries in the kitchen. “Hey,” he said with a smile, “I haven’t seen you all day.” He stepped inside, removing his shoes and slowly coming to the table. Shiro knew him well enough to read his behaviour, and let him sit down before taking the seat opposite. “Has something happened?”Keith didn’t reply but he caught Shiro glance over towards his phone. “It’s nothing serious. Nothing like that.”Shiro maintained his steady, gentle gaze, but Keith could feel that he was searching his face for clues. “Maybe,” Shiro said at last, “but it’s not nothing if you’re still sitting here.”Shiro saw a shadow of a smile cross Keith’s face but all too soon it fell back into uncertainty. His eyes were flicking back and forth from Shiro’s face to the window.“I’m lost, Shiro, and I don’t know what to do. Something’s happened and I- I’m lost.” God, Keith, just say what you mean before it’s no longer your choice to say. “Maybe you know this or maybe not...” He petered off.Shiro leaned over and grasped Keith’s shoulder firmly. It was his signature move, and the weight of his hand felt pleasantly familiar. “Talk to me.”He barely managed to take a breath. “I’m gay.”Shiro gave his shoulder a squeeze, and Keith looked up into his intense gaze. “I am so fucking proud of you. Thank you, Keith.”Keith tried to hold back tears, but he wasn’t sure they’d come even if he let them.“But Keith. Me and Adam... You weren’t worried about telling me, were you?”“No, no. Of course not.” He wiped his nose, which managed to stream even when his eyes couldn’t, and struggled to find the words to express himself.“I guess it’s always awkward, a little scary.”“Yeah. It is,” Keith said. “But that’s not the problem.”When you’ve come to accept that something will never be, it’s freeing. If you know the ending, you’ll never be that disappointed about what didn’t happen and you’ve got no expectations at all. Lance had turned all that upside down.“There’s a guy, Shiro. He said he likes me and- I think I like him.”
10170164	Firsts	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Emil Nekola, Michele Crispino, Sara Crispino, Other Skaters (mentioned), Nameless Bullies (OC)", "Fandom": "Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by SharkGirl", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "5,504", "Additional Tags": "emimikeweek2017, Day 1, Firsts, Cute, Fluff, Sweet, Backstory, Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Falling In Love, Misunderstandings, Bullying, Minor Violence, Very Minor Blood, Cursing in Italian, MilaSara (mentioned), Italiano \| Italian, EmiMike, MichEmil, First Meetings, Česky \| Czech, Spoilers", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Michele Crispino/Emil Nekola, Michele Crispino & Sara Crispino, Sara Crispino & Emil Nekola", "Series": "EmiMike Week 2017", "Collections": "EmiMike Week 2017", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Life is filled with firsts. First words. First steps. First kisses. First loves.Emil’s first kiss, unless you count the peck on the cheek he received from Terezka Blažková in second grade after she was dared by the other girls in class to do so, happened during a slumber party of sorts in his hotel room at his first competition abroad. Looking back, he wasn’t sure if that counted either, as it was a half kiss, shared during a game of spin the bottle.It had been his rink mate’s idea. He'd invited everyone in their age bracket to their room and, well, one thing led to another and, the moment Emil puckered up, his eyes tightly closed, the door to their hotel room flew open and he whipped his head around, the nameless competitor catching him by the corner of his lips before pulling back themselves.Thankfully, it was their own coach that caught them, so they managed to avoid an international incident. But he and his rink mate were grounded for the duration of the competition and kept under constant surveillance for the next couple years.His true first kiss would come later, but before that, Emil had another very important first. The first time he laid eyes on Michele Crispino.He’d just stepped down from the podium, earning silver for the first time in his junior career, when he saw the Italian figure skater. He was in a group of other senior competitors, but he stood out from the rest. There was just something about him. But it could have also been the girl hanging off of his arm.“Mickey!” she gushed, giving him a squeeze. “Do your best out there!”“Of course, Sara.” He turned toward her and combed his fingers through her long hair before placing a kiss on her forehead. “Anything for you.”Emil stared at the two with wide eyes, blinking owlishly. He didn’t understand a word they’d said, of course, the two speaking in a foreign language, but he got the gist. He absently felt someone tap him on his shoulder, asking him something, but the only thing he said in response was, “He’s…so…cool!”After that, he, his coach, and his rink mates made their way up into the stands to watch the men’s singles competition. Emil was excited because he was going get to see that man – Mickey, she’d called him – perform. If his routine was half as cool as he was, he’d win for sure.“Ah, there he is!” Emil gasped, only to be hushed by his coach, the older man muttering something about fourteen-year-olds knowing better.“You know him?” the boy on his other side asked, but Emil shook his head. “Oh, I was going to say.” He laughed. Emil was sure he probably said something else, but he wasn’t paying him any attention.“Representing Italy, Michele Crispino,” the announcer said and then it happened. For the first time in his short career, Emil had been moved by another’s performance. He’d often felt excited or nervous for other competitors, but nothing had ever hit him in such a way as Michele’s performance had. It was beautiful, flawless, and smooth in a way Emil’s energetic programs never were. He knew at that moment that he wanted, no, needed to get to know the other man. To learn from him.“He’s so cool…” he repeated, leaning his elbow on the armrest and placing his chin in his palm. “So cool…” The next year was Emil’s senior debut and, although he hadn’t spoken a word to the older skater since he’d watched his performance the previous season, he was beyond excited to see him again. He scanned the warm-up area for the Italian skater and spotted him talking to the girl from last time. A quick internet search after Emil’s first ‘sighting’ had informed him that she was his younger twin sister and a renowned skater in her own right.The two of them were just so cool!Emil made his way over, leaving his rink mates behind, his electronic dictionary at the ready. He’d already memorized his opening line. After all, he’d been practicing every night, reading it over and over to make sure he said it correctly.The siblings were away from the other competitors, speaking in hushed tones while Michele stretched, preparing for his performance. Emil approached them and cleared his throat. Sara looked at him first, dark brows raised in surprise, but her face open and friendly. Michele on the other hand…“Che vuoi?” Michele glared down at him, his violet eyes hard and intimidating.“Um…no…” Emil floundered for a moment before he remembered his line. “È un piacere conoscerla, il mio nome è Emil Nekola. Spero di poter imparare molto da Lei!” he practically shouted, bowing his head. He’d said it too quickly, but he was certain he’d pronounced it all the right way.When he heard a snicker, he glanced back up. Sara was grinning, a dainty hand partially covering her mouth. Michele had ignored him and gone back to stretching.“That was pretty good,” she said in English. “But you could have just said, Ciao, sono Emil.” She chuckled. “No need to be so formal.”“Oh.” Emil’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but he nodded.“You’re the skater from the Czech Republic who’s making your senior debut today, right?” she asked, tone friendly. Emil nodded. “Ah, it’s good to meet you.” She smiled again. “My name is Sara Crispino and this is my brother, Michele.” She turned toward him. “Mickey, say ‘hello’.”The older man looked down at him again, saying nothing. But after Sara elbowed him in the ribs, he rolled his eyes and conceded, grunting out a quick, “Ciao.”“Mickey,” she admonished, but it was more than enough for Emil. He opened his mouth to thank him, but his coach called his name. He was disappointed that he had to leave so soon, but he was glad he’d managed to talk to him.“I’ve got to go,” he said, looking at Michele, though the other avoided eye contact. He turned his attention on his sister. “It was nice meeting you, Sara.” He beamed and started to run off, but not before waving big and calling over his shoulder, “See you on the ice, Mickey!” He barely caught the other’s shocked face before his coach was scolding him for wandering off. The first time Michele congratulated him, Emil thought he’d spontaneously combust on the spot. He was seventeen and just entering his third senior season when the other man approached him. Emil now had to look down just a bit, as he was a few centimeters taller than the older man.“You didn’t suck,” Michele said. “Your jumps had good height." He went on when Emil’s stunned speechlessness forbid him from replying. “Your step sequences are sloppy and your spins need some serious work, but good job.”“Good…job…” Emil echoed, not believing his ears.“Yeah.” Michele drew his browns down, his violet eyes flicking from side to side. “Anyway…” he began, taking a step back. “Ben fatto, Emil,” he said awkwardly and then walked away, leaving Emil, still in shock, rooted to his spot.He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there, watching Michele’s retreating back until it disappeared from view. He only came back to himself when someone placed a hand on his shoulder.“Hej, Emil!” his rink mate greeted. “Tak tady jsi! We’ve been looking everywhere.”“Oh?” He turned toward him, finally in control over his gross motor skills. “Yeah?”“Yeah,” the other replied. “Great job out there, man.”“Yeah…” Emil looked back in the direction Michele had gone.“Anyway, let’s head up to the stands to watch the rest,” he suggested and Emil just nodded, following after him, the memory of the Italian skater’s words of congratulations making something warm and pleasant bubble up in his chest. Emil first realized he’d fallen head over heels for Michele later that season at the European Figure Skating Championships. He hadn’t earned a spot in the Grand Prix Final, but Michele had and, even though he didn’t make the podium, he’d been a pleasure to watch. And Emil found himself unable to take his eyes off of the older skater.On and off the ice.He wasn’t able to attend the GPF in person, so the next time he saw Michele was at Europeans. Emil excitedly made his way down the hall of the venue, humming the theme from his short program. He was definitely looking forward to showing the other man what he’d accomplished during their time apart.Emil paused when he spotted a familiar head of long, dark hair. It was Sara! And where there was one Crispino…But he faltered just as he was reaching up to wave. She was by herself. No Mickey in sight. But she wasn’t alone. Three men were standing around her, towering over her shorter form. Getting a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, Emil approached, his brow furrowed.“You looked good out there, as usual,” one of the men said, leaning an arm against the wall and getting into Sara’s personal space. “Loved the outfit.”“My brother helped me pick it out,” she replied cheerily, not seeming to be the least bit intimated by the much larger man.“Oh, yeah. The Great Mickey Crispino,” he said, finishing with a flourish. “My buddy here beat his short program score.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at one of the other men.“Well, isn’t that good for you.” Sara faked a smile at the other. “Speaking of Mickey, I should go find him-”“Not so fast.” The third guy blocked her exit. “What’s your hurry, Principessina?”“Excuse me,” she said, frowning up at him, but he didn’t move. “Step aside.”“What’s the magic word?” he teased, flashing a cocky grin.“Hey, Sara,” the first man interrupted. “If we beat your big brother and make the podium, think we could get a little reward?”“Yeah.” The man in the middle reached out and grabbed her upper arm. “What’ll you give me if I get gold?”Emil had seen enough. He strode over and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, getting his attention. “It’s not very gentlemanlike to lay your hands on a lady without her consent,” he said.The other man turned around, releasing Sara and sizing Emil up. “Who the hell are you?”“A friend of Miss Sara’s, and if you don’t mind-”“Hey, he’s that Czech skater,” another said with a snort. “Nice fall, cretino.”Emil’s cheeks burned. He’d tried a quad he hadn’t quite mastered yet during his short program and ended up eating it on the ice. It had been embarrassing, but he’d brushed himself off. He was still learning, after all.“Yeah, good one.” The current leader rolled his eyes. “Now beat it, stronzo.” He shoved Emil hard in the shoulder. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?”Emil winced and gripped his shoulder, giving it a roll to make sure the larger man hadn’t dislocated it. “I can see that you’re attempting to woo this young lady, but I must point out that-”“Shut up, already!” he roared, pushing Emil again. “What the hell is your problem? Can’t you take a hint?”He glanced back over at Sara who, up until this point, hadn’t looked frightened, but now fear shown in her violet eyes. She obviously didn’t want their attention. Couldn’t they take a hint?The three turned back toward Sara, but Emil spoke, drawing their attention again. “I think,” he began, taking a deep breath and trying to sound braver than he felt. “I think it would be best if you left her alone.”“And,” the largest of them began, grabbing Emil by his collar and lifting him up and off the ground – impressive, since Emil was over 180 cm – “I think it would be best if you minded your own damn business, frocio.”“She…” he wheezed, struggling against the other’s hold. “She…doesn’t want…” Emil didn’t get to finish because suddenly, he was on the ground. He brought a hand to his throat as he fought to take in gulps of air.“Mickey!” he heard Sara cry. He looked up just as Michele drew back his fist, readying a punch. Emil had never moved so quickly in his life. He stood up and got between them, pain blossoming in his right cheek as Michele’s fist came in contact with it.“Merda, Emil!” Michele pulled back immediately, his violet eyes wide.“Let’s get out of here,” he barely registered one of the men saying, his ears still ringing. “That stronzo’s going to get us disqualified.” And then they were gone. Emil slumped forward, bringing a hand to his cheek. It hurt like crazy, but he was glad it was him that Michele had hit rather than the others.“Oh my goodness! Emil, you’re bleeding!” Sara ducked her head down, dabbing his lip with a towel. She turned toward Michele and glared. “I can’t believe you hit him.”“I didn’t mean to!” he argued, still cradling his fist to his chest. “I was trying to hit that figlio di puttana!”“You shouldn’t have been trying to hit anyone,” she reasoned, tilting Emil’s chin up to make sure no blood had dribbled anywhere else.“I’m fine,” he insisted, though his teeth had sliced into the inside of his cheek pretty badly.“You’re not fine.” Sara frowned at him. “All you were trying to do was get those guys to leave and then Mickey socked you.”“It was an accident!” Michele groaned. “I told you. I was trying to hit-”“What made you think it was okay to hit anyone?” she asked, hands on her hips.“Those damn hyenas were drooling all over you and then they had the nerve to touch-” Michele’s gaze darted over to Emil for a moment, his cheeks tinting. “I mean, they overstepped and-”“Enough.” Sara held her hand up. “We need to get Emil to the first aid room for some ice.” She placed a small hand on Emil’s back and guided him forward. His head ached and the side of his face felt like it had been split open, but Emil couldn’t stop thinking about the little blush Michele had gotten when he’d looked at him.It was then that he realized he’d happily get punched in the face if it meant Michele would blush like that. Then again, maybe he’d been hit a little too hard. The swelling wasn’t bad and, despite his pale skin, the bruise was easy enough to cover with makeup. His free skate went as well as he’d hoped and, every chance he got, he checked the side of the rink for Michele. He’d watched the whole thing. Of course, he was performing right after him and probably needed to be there, but Emil didn’t want to think of it that way.He stood up from the bench in the kiss and cry and greeted the Italian with a bright smile, though the pain in his cheek caused him to wince a bit. “Ready to one-up me, Mickey?” he asked.Michele opened his mouth, but then shut it, giving his head a little shake. “Get onto my level and then we can exchange pre-performance banter,” he said and then turned to face Sara, brushing his fingers through her hair and accepting her good luck kiss on the cheek, though she still looked a little miffed.“Has he even apologized yet?” she asked Emil.“Sara, I appreciate it, but he doesn’t need to-”“He punched you in the face!” she exclaimed. “It’s the least he can do.”“It was obvious that he wasn’t aiming for me,” Emil replied with a small smile, thinking that, if just for a moment, it had been him that Michele was fighting for, rather than Sara’s honor. Though, that, too, was a noble cause. “I’m just glad I got in the way,” he continued. “Those men seemed like the type to report it and if Mickey got disqualified because of me, I’d never forgive-”“It would have been his own fault.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh!” She gasped, violet eyes going wide. “I just realized. I never properly thanked you.”“No thanks necessary, Sara.” He held his hands up. “I was just doing what anyone would do if they saw their friend in trouble.”“Still-” she began, but was cutoff when the crowd erupted in applause. They both turned just in time to see Michele complete his combination, finishing with a triple, which he landed perfectly. Emil sighed and rested his elbows on the side of the rink, watching as the other man moved with such fluidity. Such grace! He was a pleasure to watch.Sara said something he didn’t quite catch and then elbowed him in the arm. He turned to face her and just caught her smirk before she faced the ice again. He shrugged and followed suit, unable to wipe the smile off of his face as Michele spun again. Emil waited for Sara and Michele beside the kiss and cry. He was supposed to meet back up with his coach later, but Sara told him to wait and so he did. They embraced when Michele’s score was announced, once again several whole numbers higher than Emil’s. He’d have to keep up his training if he was ever going to touch the Italian’s scores.There were a few more performances left before they announced who made the podium and Michele was currently in second place. He had a good chance. But of course he did. He was amazing.Suddenly, the Crispino twins were approaching him, Sara looking rather smug and Michele, embarrassed. “Well,” Sara began, flipping some of her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you two later.”“Sara, if you think for a moment that I’m letting you walk around without a chaperone after what happened-”“Mickey,” she said, eyes hard and jaw set. “First of all, I’m meeting up with Mila,” she explained. “Secondly, I believe you have something else you need to do right now.” Her gaze flicked over to Emil and then back to her older brother. “I’ll meet back up with you after the awards.”Michele opened his mouth to retort, but Sara was gone, already through the curtain and off to find her friend and rival, leaving them in an uncomfortable silence, broken only when the next competitor’s free skate music began to play.“So,” Emil began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Not here,” Michele replied, grabbing his wrist and leading him out of the arena. They made their way down the long hallway, past the television screens and toward a much less populated area of the venue. It was then that Michele released him, the older man taking a deep breath. “I owe you an apology.”“Mickey, I already told Sara-”“If I hadn’t left her side, none of this would have happened,” he interjected with a frown. “Because of my negligence, you got hurt.”Emil wanted to argue that it was because of Michele’s fist, but he dared not bring that up. Instead, he changed the subject slightly. “I was wondering why Sara was by herself,” he said, clearing his throat. “You’re normally glued to her side.”If that phrasing insulted the older man, his face didn’t show it. He just sighed, his frown deepening. “I only left her for a moment,” he answered, shaking his head. “I can’t even go to the bathroom without hyenas swarming,” he cursed.“You can’t protect her all the time,” Emil offered, but pursed his lips at the glare he received.“And why not?” Michele countered, gaze smoldering.“I mean, that is,” Emil floundered. “Anyway,” he quickly recovered. “I’m glad it was me that you hit.” Michele flinched at that. “No, I mean…did you see how big that guy was?” He barked out a laugh. “I think we know who would win in that fight.” His laughter petered out when Michele remained silent, his teeth coming out to worry at his bottom lip. “Mickey?”“I’m sorry, Emil.” He reached a hand up and gingerly touched Emil’s cheek, the tips of his fingers amazingly warm against his skin. “And thank you for being there for Sara when I couldn’t.” He lowered his hand to his side and closed his eyes. “We should head back.” He began to walk off, but stopped when he noticed Emil wasn’t following him.Emil was still stunned. Michele had never touched him before. Not like that. Not with such gentleness and warmth. He blinked and smiled, rushing over to catch up.“I was happy to help,” he replied jovially. “And thanks for stepping in to save me from those bullies.” He beamed and Michele’s face flushed.“Yes, well…I normally only stand up for women, so,” he coughed into his fist. “You’re on your own next time.”Emil thought that he would never get tired of Michele’s blushing face. His heart fluttered and stomach did a little flip, but he did his best to ignore it, lest his mind begin to wander. Instead, he slung an arm over Michele’s shoulders and flashed what he hoped was his most dazzling smile. “Sure thing, Mickey!” They didn’t see each other again until the following season. Emil worked hard training and readying his new program. He was sure he’d make it to Barcelona with this routine. He wanted so badly to get into the GPF and stand on the podium beside Michele.Again, for the thousandth time since they’d been apart, Emil remembered Michele’s blushing face. The way the rosy hue dusted the older man’s tan cheeks and made his violet eyes shine like amethysts. He was eighteen years old now and well aware of his feelings for the Italian skater.He’d denied it at first, of course, thinking it was just because Michele was older and cooler and everything Emil wasn’t. But he knew the moment Michele’s fingers gently touched his injured cheek, that he was undoubtedly head over heels for the other man – never mind the fact that it was Michele’s fault that he was injured in the first place. Details.Emil tried to act normally when he saw the Crispinos at the Rostelecom Cup. Of course, that was easier said than done when he saw Michele getting into the elevator behind his sister, looking flawless and gorgeous and cooler than ever. He swallowed and caught up to them, barely making it through the doors before they closed.“Made it,” he panted.“Emil!” Sara exclaimed, face brightening as she recognized him. “It’s so good to see you.”“You, too,” he greeted, avoiding eye contact with Michele. He’d been so excited, but now he couldn’t even face him. What if he looked up and Michele knew? Like, the fact that he was in love with the older skater was written all over his face or something?“Congratulations on getting third at Skate Canada,” Sara went on, seemingly oblivious to his internal battle. “You’ve really improved.” She stepped forward and gave him a hug.“Oh.” His cheeks tinted. “Thank you, Sara, I-” But then he caught sight of Michele and, boy, did the other man look furious. “Mickey, what’s-”“Hands off!” he shouted, tearing Sara away from him and pulling her toward his chest. “You think just because you helped her out last time that you can touch her whenever you want?”Emil’s brows rose to his hairline as he blinked, unable to formulate a response. Sara frowned up at her brother. “Mickey, it’s just Emil-”“I don’t care,” he growled, violet gaze dangerous. “I’ll protect you from every man here, if I have to.” Apparently, Michele had not quite gotten over what had happened at Europeans. “And you,” he stared at Emil, pinning him against the opposite wall of the elevator. “If you want to date my little sister-”Just then, the elevator doors opened, revealing the ever-stoic Seung-gil. Sara quickly pulled away from Michele to greet him, but she was immediately spurned. So, thankfully, Michele’s rage was directed at the other man and it gave Emil a second to breathe.Well, that was not how he'd expected their reunion to go. Later, much later, after Mickey placed third and narrowly missed making the GPF, Emil heard a horrified shriek coming from the hallway and, after years of hearing that particular voice shouting – oftentimes at him – he recognized it immediately. He rushed over and poked his head out, fearing the worst.“Was that Mickey screaming?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t too late. He nearly had the wind knocked out of him when Yuuri Katsuki embraced him. He hugged back out of habit, though it went on a bit longer than was socially acceptable. Then, as soon as it’d started, the hug was over and the Japanese skater was off, leaving everyone in shocked silence.Michele nearly fainted, but Emil had caught him just in time, slinging one of the other man’s arms over his shoulder to support him.“Touched me…” Michele croaked, eyes still closed. Emil glanced down at him, wondering if he was talking in his sleep. “Disgusting…”“Mickey, are you okay?” Sara asked, ducking her head down.“Don’t…touch me…” he mumbled and Emil made to let go, though he wasn’t sure if Michele was steady enough to stand on his own two feet. However, before he was able to release him, the Italian skater grabbed his wrist. “Not you, Emil,” he said, still sounding out of it. He shook his head before letting it rest heavily on Emil’s shoulder. “Never you…”Warmth bloomed in his chest, spreading up his neck and causing his cheeks to burn. He looked over at the others, but they were still staring after Yuuri’s retreating, zombie-like form. A second later, they dispersed, going about their business.“Think you can handle him?” Sara asked Emil, glancing down at her semi-conscious brother. “I promised I’d meet Mila for dinner.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a keycard. “Here.” She pressed it into his free hand. “We’re in room 628,” she said and then smiled. “I think he could use a nap.”Emil opened his mouth to reply, but Sara was gone, off to find her friend. A weird sense of déjà vu washed over him, but he shook his head, choosing instead to focus on the man in his arms.They were out of the venue and a few blocks away from the hotel by the time Michele was able to walk on his own. His face rivaled a tomato when he came to, pressing both his hands against Emil’s chest as he looked anywhere, but at him.“S-Sorry about that,” he managed, studying the cracks in the sidewalk.“No problem.” Emil shrugged, missing the warmth of the other man beside him, but not daring to say a word about it. “What are friends for?”Michele looked up at him, violet eyes more vulnerable than Emil had ever seen them. But that vulnerability was replaced in an instant, the other’s gaze hardening as he turned his head. They continued walking in silence until they reached the hotel lobby.“Thanks, Emil.” Michele stuffed his hands into his pockets and then his eyes widened. “Merda, I forgot my room key,” he groaned and hung his head. “And Sara’s out with Mila…”Emil had almost forgotten that Sara had given him the key, until he reached into his own pocket. “Oh, actually, Mickey, I have-”“You’re staying by yourself, right?” Michele asked, suddenly very close. “Do you mind if I go up to your room?” he implored and Emil’s face heated. He released the keycard and took his hand out of his pocket. “Just until Sara comes back?” Michele added. “If that’s alright.”Emil thought about that. Having Michele all to himself for the next hour or so. Alone. In his hotel room.“That’s perfectly fine,” he managed, his voice cracking only a little bit.“Bene.” He looked relieved. “Thank you, Emil.”They didn’t speak as they rode the elevator up to the sixth floor. Emil thought it was only slightly less uncomfortable than when Michele had been screaming at him about dating Sara in the same lift the day before. When the doors opened, they walked out, Michele surprising Emil by taking his hand. The taller man swallowed and led the way.Michele released his hand so he could unlock and open the door. Then he strode inside, taking a seat on Emil’s bed. Clearing his throat as the mood shifted, Emil removed his jacket and stood across from the other, feeling like a storm was about to hit.“Sara’s dating Mila,” Michele said simply, not looking the least bit upset.Emil blinked, glanced from side to side, and then nodded. “Okay-”“So, you can’t date her,” he interrupted. “She’s dating Mila. That’s why you can’t date her.”More silence followed. Emil had spent the last few months thinking about what it would be like to see Michele again. To maybe ask him out for a cup of coffee and subtly hint that he was interested in deepening their relationship. So, being shouted at in an elevator, clung to, and then being told flat out that he couldn’t date the other’s sister really threw him for a loop.“Mickey-”“I’m sorry,” Michele went on. “I…” He looked down at his interlaced fingers, his elbows resting on his knees. “I know how you feel about her.”Oh. Oh. So, that’s the type of conversation they were having.“Mickey,” Emil began again, unable to hide his smile. “I think you’ve got it all wrong.”“She was happy you came to her rescue, even though she constantly reminds me that she could have handled it herself, if you hadn’t shown.” He wrung his hands, his face pained. “But she doesn’t see you that way, so-”“Mickey.” Emil walked forward, finally getting the other to look at him. “Could you please stop turning me down on your sister’s behalf?” He shook his head, still smiling.“Right. Sorry.” Michele sighed. “You probably want to hear it from her-”“I’m telling you, Mickey. You’ve got it all wrong.” He knelt between the other’s legs, placing his hands on his knees and looking into those gorgeous violet eyes of his. “There is a Crispino twin that I’m completely in love with, but…it’s not Sara.”Slowly it dawned on the other man. Emil watched with barely contained glee as Michele’s cheeks tinted, the flush spreading down his neck. “You…you mean that you-”“Yeah.” Emil reached a hand up and cupped Michele’s cheek. “I’m in love with you, Mickey.” Then he realized he’d done things out of order. He should have asked Michele out properly first, saving the confession for after a late night walk after dinner. He made to remove his hand from the other’s cheek. “Of course, you probably don’t want to hear that from-”Michele slapped his hand over Emil’s, keeping it right where it was. “Don’t you dare pull away,” he said, brows drawn down. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been holding myself back?”Emil blinked. “What?”“First it was for Sara because, you know, I had to make sure she was taken care of,” he explained. “And then you swooped in to save her the one time I left her alone and I thought…” He worried at his lower lip. “But when I saw that guy threatening you, I…I saw red.”“Mickey…”“And then I ended up hitting you.” He grimaced. “I still feel bad about that, by the way.”“Mickey, it was an accident,” he said and then paused. “Wait. So…you like me?”Michele rolled his eyes. “Dio, don’t ask me why.” Then he smiled softly. “But, yes, I do. For a long time, Emil.” He licked his lips and Emil found his eyes drawn to the movement of the other's tongue. “I just…thought you liked Sara.”“Don’t get me wrong, Sara is a lovely young lady,” Emil said, still staring at Michele’s lips. “But you’re the coolest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”Michele buried his burning face in his hands and groaned. “Emil, that’s so embarrassing.”“But it’s true!” he argued. “And,” he gripped Michele’s wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. “I’ve been thinking of how to tell you.”“Emil…” Michele slumped forward, resting his forehead against Emil’s. He swallowed before taking a deep breath. “So, now what?”“If it’s alright with you,” Emil began, drawing back and cradling Michele’s face. “Could I kiss you?”“Stupido,” he snorted, leaning closer so their lips brushed as he spoke. “You don’t have to ask.”And that was how Emil got his first kiss. His first real kiss. And his second, third, fourth, fifth, and, well…needless to say, it wasn’t his last.
10156448	Faking Smiles	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Sherlock (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by SimplyShelbs16", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-07T00:00:00", "words": "1,352", "Additional Tags": "angsty, sherlock POV, Songfic, Bittersweet", "Relationship": "Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Sherlolly Songfics", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Walking down 29th and park, I saw you in another’s arms. Only a month we’ve been apart, you look happier. It had been a month since Sherlock’s crime solving adventure with Molly Hooper. Ever since asking for her help in faking his death, something had shifted for him. He was no longer cold towards her, always living in the moments they spent together, never taking them for granted. As he walked, lost in thought, he saw her…in the arms of Tom. She was engaged and happy. Oh, how he wanted her to be happy even if it wasn’t with him. That’s how much he love—cared for her. Sherlock refused to accept his feelings, for they were nothing but a distraction and a disadvantage, so he locked them away. Saw you walk inside a bar. He said something to make you laugh. I saw that both your smiles were twice as wide as ours. Yeah, you look happier, you do. Sherlock’s Belstaff billowed behind him as he followed Lestrade into the pub to talk to a potential suspect. As they waited for the bartender to retrieve the manager, Sherlock heard a laugh. Molly’s laugh. His head whipped around to see her and Tom animatedly talking and laughing with one another. He wished that it could be him she was laughing with like they did a month and a half ago while on a case. She looked happier than he’d ever seen her. All of these thoughts vanished as the manager came out to greet them. Ain’t nobody hurt you like I hurt you but ain’t nobody love you like I do. Promise that I will not take it personal, baby, if you’re moving on with someone new. He loved her. It was plain and simple. No complexities or mysteries to solve. Sherlock Holmes loved Molly Hooper and that was that. He had hurt her so many times in the past. All of that time he could have had with her was wasted. That chance may never come again. He didn’t feel he deserved her. Hell, he didn’t understand how she could fancy him, being the arsehole he is. Sherlock could never forget that dreadful Christmas party. To be fair, I was the one who made it dreadful, he thought. Molly Hooper was the only one he would give apologies for, whether it was for her or if she told him to apologize to another. Regardless, he would never allow this predicament to ruin anything. He would rather have her as one of his best friends than to not have her in his life at all. He wanted her to be happy because she deserved it more than anything. Cause, baby, you look happier, you do. My friends told me one day, I’ll feel it too. And until then, I’ll smile to hide the truth but I know I was happier with you. John was always so convinced that Sherlock would find happiness with a good woman one day. But maybe it wasn’t in the plans for him. Molly was in his blood just as he had been for her. Lately, her smiles didn’t reach her eyes. She was forcing them now, but for who? Sherlock thought back on the day that he congratulated her on the engagement. He remembered smiling on the outside to show his happiness for her before leaving a soft kiss upon her cheek. It was a bittersweet feeling but he had to let her go. He was happy enough, what with John and now Mary but Sherlock couldn’t keep the feeling at bay that something was missing. He had always been his happiest when Molly was more involved. Sat in the corner of the room; everything’s reminding me of you. Nursing an empty bottle and telling myself you’re happier, aren’t you? By this point, Sherlock knew something wasn’t right but he couldn’t pinpoint it. He laid there on the sofa, nicotine patches covering his arm, thinking rapidly while searching for an answer. No. Molly is happier without me. But why doesn’t her smile light up her eyes anymore? There’s no time to think like that, she’s happy…isn’t she? Everything reminded him of her when he opened his eyes. She had left her mark in 221B through memories locked away in his mind. Looking throughout the flat, unwanted thoughts kept invading him. That’s where Molly stood when I asked her to go crime solving. There’s where she sat as I questioned the client. There, in the kitchen, is the jar of eyes I’ve collected from her. Oh, and that’s where she stood when I single-handedly broke her heart on Christmas. Sherlock snapped out of it, frustrated with himself and his conflicting emotions that he usually repressed. He didn’t know how to handle any of it so, just as he did when he was bored, he began to shoot at the wall. “Sherlock, honestly, what’s gotten into you?” Mrs. Hudson questioned, ducking for dear life. “Just a matter of boredom Mrs. Hudson, scurry along now,” Sherlock replied curtly. Ain’t nobody hurt you like I hurt you. But ain’t nobody need you like I do. I know that there’s others that deserve you but, my darling, I am still in love with you. Three months. It had been three bloody months since he’d been feeling this way. “What do you need?” “You.” He had meant it in every way, but Sherlock never dared to tell her that. He didn’t just need her to help him fake his suicide, but he needed her to love and be loved by her; the unconditional kind of love that she had always given him. Molly kept him right just as much as John did. They were both essential in his life. The keys to the man he had become. Between the two of them, Molly was the only one who saw right through him. She didn’t just see who he was, but the man he could become.Her faith in him was unwavering. Engaged or not, she still loved him unconditionally as a friend at the very least. He could deal with that. Tom deserved her forever, not him. As hard as he tried, Sherlock couldn’t deny to himself that he was still in love with Molly Hooper. The feeling was too strong to be ignored by this point. Baby, you look happier, you do. I knew one day you’d fall for someone new. But if he breaks your heart like lovers do, just know that I’ll be waiting here for you. He always knew that eventually, Molly would get over him. He told himself that if there was ever a day that things didn’t work out, he’d wait for her. He would try to become the man that she deserved, even if it took him the rest of his life. Seeing her and Tom at the wedding canoodling with one another stung his heart as he watched from afar. Though, he did enjoy the bit where she stuck her fork in him. Chuckling, Sherlock relaxed in his chair, escaping all of the worry that plagued his mind. So there he was, being tugged along to get tested by Molly for drugs in his system. Sherlock didn’t want her to see him like this; didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.“Clean?”Smack. He deserved that. Smack. At least there’s no ring to leave a welt. Smack. Wait, there’s no ring. Molly’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.“How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with and how dare you betray the love of your friends! Say you’re sorry!” Feeling upset at her disappointment in him and a bit smug at noticing her ring was missing, he became his old self again.“Sorry your engagement’s over. Though I’m fairly grateful for the lack of a ring.” She isn’t engaged, I could tell her. No. Look at this mess you’ve made. She’s distraught with you. Molly Hooper deserves better than this. So that’s what he told himself to keep from selfishly opening his heart to her.
10191287	My Little Dwarf	{ "Archive Warning": "Rape/Non-Con", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Chad Charming, Doug (Disney: Descendants), Ben (Disney: Descendants), Evie (Disney)", "Fandom": "Descendants (2015)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Ggeri_Sminth", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "6,095", "Additional Tags": "Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Don’t copy to another site", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Chad Charming/Doug, Doug/Others", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The thing about soulmates was that not everyone got their happily ever after. Doug found this out the hard way, he was thirteen when he found his soulmate mark. He was thirteen when his heart was broken by the one that was supposed to love him forever. Doug was sixteen when he met her and he thought that maybe he could be loved by someone other than his soulmate. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that this isn’t so. No he was destined to be alone, and to watch his one true love forever with another. Evie giggled happily, “I can’t believe that my soul mate is actually a prince.”Doug sighs at her as his eyes glance towards Chad, “More like King Evie.”Evie sighs dreamy like, “Ah yes, I am going to be a queen.”Doug laughs, “Of course that’s the only thing you're worried about.”Evie smiles, “Why aren’t you happy for me.”Doug frowns as he subconsciously pulls on his sleeve, “I am happy for you.”Evie watches Doug and then softly pulls his hand away from his sleeve. She watches as it rides up and his soulmark is revealed. Evie can’t help but gasp. Doug turns away from her. He doesn’t want her pity.“Does he know?”Doug frowns and tears come to his eyes, “I don’t really know. I think he does. But I can’t be sure.”Evie frowns, “Does anyone else know.”Doug’s laugh is hollow, “Audrey. She likes to rub it in my face. That he loves her, and not me. That he will never love me. Ben also knows.”Evie frown deepens, “Is that why Jane hates Chad so much? Because Audrey doesn’t love her?”Doug nods his head with a soft frown and tears in his eyes. He doesn’t say much more as he pushes up from his seat and tears out of the classroom. The teacher frowns and yells after him, but Doug ignores him. He just wants to be alone. Evie bites her lip, she hadn’t meant to upset her friend.So Evie came up with a plan. “I want you to flirt with Doug.”Ben who had been drinking coughed and sputtered as he looked at his girlfirend with wide eyes, “You want me to flirt with Doug.”Evie nodded her head, “Yes. I think that Chad will become jealous if he sees someone else making the moves on his man.”Ben laughs, “I don’t think that’s going to work Evie.”Evie scowls at him, “Of course it will work. He can’t have you but remember he pretty much tried stealing me from Doug. So he knows that he doesn’t like seeing Doug with others. I am going to enlist the help of Jay and Carlos as well.”Ben laughs, “Yes dear.”Doug for his part didn’t understand where all this new attention was coming from. Not only did Evie get Ben in on it, she also got Mal and Lonnie to help as well. So now around every corner Doug turned he had girls and guys flirting with him. It was odd and very strange. Doug blushed a soft pink as Jay whispered in his ear soft words and kisses lingered on his his cheeks. Doug too caught up in the moment didn’t even realize that Chad was watching until he was being lifted off the ground and swung over someone's shoulder. Doug gasped his glasses slipping off his face until they slipped completely off and fell to the ground. The sound was loud, but not as loud as Doug's soft whimpers and the tears falling from his face. When he was finally set down, Doug was face to face with Chad. He squinted his eyes trying to see through his tears and the lack of glasses. Doug sniffles and mumbles about his glasses falling off. Chad bites his lip before demanding that Doug not move.Doug huffs, “I can’t really see so that won't be an issue.”Chad is gone in an instant going back to where Doug lost his glasses. While he is gone several men sneak up on Doug hitting him on the back of the head. The boy falls quick and fast, he never saw the attack coming. Chad turns fast on his heal, something isn’t right and he can feel it. With as much graces as he can manage he rushes back to the location that Doug had once been. He blinks, no one is in site. As Chad rushes to back through the halls he catches a glimpse of someone he thinks he knows. He stops and blinks before following them. “Please,” He whispers. It’s doesn’t matter it’s too late. As he exits the building a car speeds away and Chad gets a glimpse of a very unconscious Doug and a man that he knows oh to well.The back of Doug's head hurt with a dull throbbing pain. As he opened his eyes, a blur of bright light stings his face. He tries to cover his eyes with his hands and that is when he notices that he can't seem to move them. All his limbs feel weak and dead. He is sluggish and it takes him several minutes to realize that he isn't wearing any clothing. He wants to scream out, call for help but nothing is coming out. Dirty tasting cloth clogs his mouth making it impossible for the sounds he would make to hit the air. Once he regains some semblance of feeling he begins to struggle. The rope around around his wrists pull and burn making his eyes water. He is lying down legs pulled apart exposing him to anyone that might come in. Tears begin to streak down his face clouding his already blurry vision. Nothing but fear raced through Doug's mind, he had no idea where he was or who had taken him. The life of a dwarf was pretty simple, and no one cared about you. Sometimes even your own family didn't even know you existed. He wondered as he tried to breath through his nose if anyone would find him, if anyone was looking for him. His tears stained his cheeks as memories flashed through his mind of his life. He was so young and had experienced very little. Doug sniffled harder pulling at the rope binding his wrists. A soft hiss escaped his lips as the rope tore at his wrist causing warm blood to slip down his arm.An dark evil laugh sounded from across the room, Doug freezes what he is doing. A sharp intake of breath falters from his lips as a cold fingers brush the inside of his thigh. His legs shake and tremble as the fingers trace small patterns in his flesh. Fresh tears streak down his face and lips press into his cheek. A man's voice crooned at him, “Such a pretty, pretty little boy.”Doug flinches and tries to pull away from the unwanted attention. The man smirks moving up Doug's body licking the blood that is dripping down his arm. Doug closes his eyes to the onslaught. He tries to think happy thoughts as the fingers move from the inside of his thigh up higher and higher. The voice rattles, “Do you think that anyone is going to miss you?”Doug whimpers behind his gag as the finger finally brushes against his puckered hole. He wants to close his legs, but he can’t. As the finger starts to push against the hole Doug begins to start to hyperventilate. His breathing becomes rapid. The finger stops his intrusion and the voice comes back nipping at his ear, “Breath dear, if you don’t this will be a lot worse for you.”Doug tries to follow these instructions, but it’s getting hard to breath through his nose and the cloth in his mouth is wet and making it tedious to breath through his mouth. His captors took pity on him and unfastened the gag. Doug took a huge breath biting his lip as the fingers began to find his entrance again. The finger that breaches his is dry and it burns as it is forced in. He takes another deep breath as he tries to relax the muscles praying that the burn will subside. The pain doesn’t but the man removes his fingers. Doug hears the tell tail signs of lube being opened, the sound of a cap opening. When the finger breaches his entrance again, it is saturated in lube. The lube is cold and chills his skin as the fingers is pressed in. The man snickers and Doug can’t stop a small hum from leaving his throat.“Don’t want to break you… yet.”Doug sniffles, “Why are you doing this to me?”The man laughs a dry hollow laugh but doesn’t answer. He also hears another laugh, this laugh comes from across the room. Dough notes for the first time within this whole ordeal that he isn’t alone. That this will have an audience. He will lose everything to some man and another will watch it happen. Doug flushes and continues to try to breath through the shame and the humiliation. The breach of one finger soon becomes two and then three. Everything around him becomes a blur and the only thing that Doug seems to be able to focus on is the pleasure building in his belly. His face flushes more and his eyes water even more. He didn’t want this, how could he. But nothing could change that this was happening and there was nothing that he would be able to do about it. When the man deemed him prepared enough he rearranged himself and then shoved in. The forced his hips forward sharply with little regard for Doug's comfort. Doug can’t help the scream that is pulled from his lips. “Such a pretty little voice that you have love.”Doug gasps as the man angles himself to hit Doug's prostate. With a strong open mouth gasp the man surges forward kissing him with such passion. He bites at Dougs lips and sucks on his tongue. Doug does his best not to bite the other man enduring the onslaught to his mouth.When the man pulls back he peppers kisses along Doug's jaw, “Such a pretty, pretty boy.”Doug shakes his head trying to tell the man that, no he wasn’t a pretty pretty boy. The man just snickers. The sex is rough and hard. Fast sharp thrusts hitting Doug’s prostate dead on quite often. He can’t help the noises that come out of his mouth. He definitely can’t help the reaction that his body is having the the pleasure that the man is providing him. Hard solid tears streak down his face as moans pour out of his mouth. Just as the man is beginning to reach his limit he reaches up and brushes his fingers against Doug’s erection. Doug gasps hissing. The rough hands wrap around him pulling and tugging forcing Doug into an orgasim that wasn’t wanted. “Now we let you sleep, don't want you to get to tired out already.”Doug can only nod his head and succumb to the sleep that is pulling at his mind. The sex continues, he doesn’t know how long they had him. How long he had been missing. The only thing that he knows is that the pain won't go away. They come back over and over again. His body is used over and over. Sometimes there are more men, they go many rounds filling him up and then leaving him. Sometimes they use his mouth, he becomes very good at giving head. And sometimes they use both his mouth and ass. Doug becomes quite adept to it. When he is alone he sits in his cell staring at the wall, a blur of browns. He traces his soulmate mark wishing, hoping, praying that someone will save him. Knowing though that day will never come. So it comes as a surprise when the door to his cell is thrown open. Doug flinches and tries to make himself smaller and maybe invisible. Semon was still slipping out of him and blood dripping from several places, Doug wasn’t sure what to think. He was sure that tonight they were done with him, as they were extra brutal this time around.“Doug,” came a sharp cry of relief. Doug pulls back further blinking and squinting in the direction of the voice. No one had used his name in he didn’t know how long. Then all of the sudden a blue blob came into view. “Evie,” Doug whispers. “Shush love,” Evie says gently brushing her fingers through his hair in an calming action. Doug falls forward as tears flow freely down his face. She pulls him towards her and her bosom allowing to cry into her holding him gently. Time passes in a blur after that, and at some point he is lifted and his body gives out taking him into the darkness that he couldn’t seem to succumb to only moments ago.When Doug wakes again he finds himself in a warm bed covered in soft blankets and the smell of honey. Doug can’t help but hum as he brushes his face against the softness of the pillow. He openes his eyes blinking at the soft yellows and creams that surrounds him. He tries to sit up but is stopped by and hand on his chest. It takes him a minute for him to recognize that there is something stopping him. It takes him a few more minutes for him to blink hazy like at the person that is holding him down. His glasses are pushed onto his face with the other person's spare hand. That hand stays resting on his cheek. Doug blinks three or four times before his eyes focus on deep green brown eyes filled with worry and concern. Chad Charming sat staring at Doug, one hand on his chest the others holding Doug's face. “Don’t try to sit up. Your body it wasn’t mean to have that much magic pumped through you. The Fairy Godmother had to use a lot on you.”Doug nods his head rubbing his cheek against Chad's hand, “Chad.”Chad bites his lip before surging forward and kissing Doug with a strong intent. He tries to put as much love and care into it as he can. There is no teeth and Chad's barely able to coax Doug's tongue into his own mouth sucking on it lightly. When he pulls back Doug is flushed a light pink and a little dazed. “I was so worried, I thought… Oh God, Doug you almost died.”Doug can’t seem to make any other words come out so he repeats his mates name, “Chad.”Chad stands kisses the top of Dougs head and then walks away from the bed and out of the room. As the door closes Doug begins to feel the panic set in. He begins to panic, the breath begins to become labored. Shouts and screams of Chad's name echo around the room as tears fall from his face. The door to the room that he is staying in slams open and in rushes Chad followed by Evie and Mal. Dougs throat hurts and his breathing begins to stable but he is still panicking. Chad reaches the bed first grabbing the hand that Doug has thrust out the moment Chad had reentered the room. His other hand goes to Doug's hair running his fingers through it. Mal’s voice reaches Doug's ears first, “Breath Doug.”Doug begins to shake his head vigorously. Mal blinks trying to figure out what she did to set Doug off. Chad’s fingers tighten in Doug's hair forcing the boy to stop shaking his head. Doug tries to pull at first only causing him to whimper but soon he stops trying to fight it. His breathing is still laybored. “Doug,” Chad says sternly, “Breath, Take deep slow breaths.”Dougs eyes flicker back and forth between Mal and Chad before taking a deep breath. Letting it in slowly and then out again. He does that several times before his heart rate slows and the panic that was setting in begins to subside. As the panic begins to leave Doug's eyes Chad’s grip in his hair lessens until he is back to stroking the boys head. Chad leans down kissing the top of Doug's head as he brushes some of his hair out of the way. He whispers, “Good Boy.”Doug hums happily pushing up into the warmth of his mate.Evie’s voice breaks the silence, “Doug… Doug are you okay?”Doug turns his head opening his eyes, “Evie?”Evie nods her head, her fingers brush against his cheek. But she doesn’t do or say anything else. Mal sighs, “I think we should leave them be Evie. Let's go find Fairy Godmother.”Evie nods her head. Evie and Mal leave the room quietly.Doug watches them go before turning his eyes back towards Chad, “Is this real?”Chad nods his head before picking up Dougs hand and bringing his wrist to his lips. Chad's lips press lightly into Doug's soulmate mark. “You never told me… I always wondered why I wanted you so bad. Why I wanted to protect you. My little dwarf.”Doug sniffles as tears begin to fall down his cheeks, “Chad.”Chad smiles and wipes the thumb under Doug's eyes, “Don’t cry. I know that I haven’t been the best mate. But let me try. Oh Doug I want to take care of you, please let me take care of you.”Doug nods his head, “Don’t leave me… what if they come back… I’m so scared.”Chad bit his lip, “They can’t hurt you no more. They won't ever take you away again. Never again.”Doug nods, “Promise?”Chan smiles, “I promise.”Doug closes his eyes and Chad begins to sit down in the chair next to the bed when Dougs soft and very insecure voice reaches his ears, “Will you hold me… I…”Chad doesn’t let him finish that thought, “Of course.”Chad helps move Doug so that he can easily fit behind the boy. He settles down behind him and then wraps his arms around Doug. Doug shifts until he is lying with his head on Chad's chest listening to his heart beat. It is steady and so very calming that Doug finds himself being lulled back to sleep just as the Fairy Godmother comes into the room.The Fairy Godmother smiles as she sees the boys, The magic that governs one's soulmate mark is some of the strongest most potent magic in the world. Those blessed with it are truly special. The magic would bring people from all walks in life together to create something so warm and strong. She hurries around them checking Doug's vitals, making sure that he is doing well. As she is leaving she hears Chad’s broken voice.“Is he ever going to be okay?”The Fairy Godmother turns, “Physically yes, wounds heal. Mentally, no. Doug, will never be the same again. He will forever be changed. There is nothing that you can do… Just fight, Chad, you are going to have to change if you want to make this work.”Chad breaths then sighs, “He’s going to hate me… no matter what I do.”She frowns, “He won't hate you love. What your father did was wrong, but it won't matter for much longer. He is your soulmate. Complete the bond and nothing and no one will be able to take him away.”Chad huffs and looks away, “Sure, make it sound so easy. He isn’t going to want to do… you know…”“Sex,” she says sharply, “He won't want to have sex. But to complete the bond you must make love.”Chad rolls his eyes, but flushes never the less, “That's pretty much just sex.”The Fairy Godmother huffs, “No Sex is meaningless, Making love is different. You’ll figure it out. Just complete the bond.”Chad bites his lip again, some of these things don’t make all that much sense to him, but he would try his best. The Fairy Godmother leaves just as Doug begins to stir. Chad hold his breath praying that the boy in his arms will sleep for a little longer. Doug moans softly before opening his eyes, “Is everything okay?”Chad sighs gently, “Yes. Go back to sleep, you must be tired.”Doug frown, “Your heart rate changed. I… I thought you were in distress.”Chad hums as he slides his hand down under the covers squeezing Doug's thy. Doug freezes ever so slightly before relaxing into the hold. “I'm just worried about what’s going to happen.”“What do you mean.”“I wanted to tell you this later… but I know who took you…”Chad blinks in surprise as Doug moves faster than he expected. Dougs eyes are bearing into him with pure fear as he sits on his lap with his hands on Chad's chest. His fingers curl into Chad’s shirt so tightly that his knuckles begin to turn white. Chad reaches up grasping Doug’s hands, “Calm down Doug.”Doug glares at him, “Don’t tell me to calm down. Do you know what they did to me… No,” tears brim in his eyes, “No you don’t!”Chad nods his head, “No… you’re right.” He leans forward brushing his lips against Doug's forehead, “But I do know that if you don’t calm down you are going to hurt yourself. Doug takes a calming breath and tries to breath through all the pain. Silent tears slide down his cheeks, Chad doesn’t move to wipe them away, He know that Doug needs to cry. That will be one of the only ways to move on, to move past all the pain. Or so he hopes. “Now,” Chad takes a calming breath, “I do know who took you. I don’t know everything… but I will tell you… but we have to…”“Mate,” Doug finishes for him, he looks down at their hands head falling onto Chad’s shoulder, “Why would you even want to mate with someone like… with someone so dirty. I'm not the perfect virgin anymore… I am so dirty.”Chad huffs out a small bit of laughter, “And what does that make me?”Doug shakes his head and tries to press it further in, “it’s different with you, You aren’t… I'm the submissive partner. I’m supposed to stay pure… i'm not that anymore… don’t you understand that.”Chad frowns, he knows the laws that govern the people but he doesn’t care. He grasps the back of Doug's head by his hair pulling his up so that he can look into his eyes.“I don’t care. I will mate you if I want to, virgin on not. You are mine and no one is going to take you from me. And no one is going to tell me what I can and can’t do.”Doug tries to pull away in shame, but Chad's grip in his hair is strong and all he can manage is to lower his eyes. “Is that really what you want Chad,” Doug whispers, “Once what happened gets out… you will be…”Chad cuts him off with a soft kiss, “Once what happens gets out no one will touch you, because everyone will know that you belong to me and you are under not only my protection but the protection of King Ben and Queen Evie.”Doug sits back as Chad loosens his grip in Doug's hair. He breaths in and out before nodding his head, “Okay. Let’s do it then.”Chad raises an eyebrow, “Now?”“Yes, now. Get it over with and out of the way.”Chad swallows the pain that wants to leave his lips. He knew that it would be hard, but just the thought that he would never be able to touch Doug like this again made him so hurt. It took every ounce of him not to kill, to leave Doug to destroy them man that took all this from him. “Not here,” Chad says softly, “You seem to be okay and if Fairy Godmother is okay with it, I want to take you home. Somewhere warm and loving. We’ll do it there.”Doug nods his head before slipping back off of Chad’s lap and onto the bed. He curls into a somewhat small ball as he lets Chad remove himself from the bed. Chad leaves with a whispered promise of returning shortly. Doug doesn’t know how long he is gone but in his mind it feels like eternity. Not long after though Chad is returning with permission to take Doug home. The journey home, to their home is quiet, the halls of the school a very eerie quiet. Soon they reach a room that Doug knows oh so well. Chad Charmings chambers. Doug is surprised though when he walks in to see his things placed around the room, his Clarinet sitting on the table. A grand Piano sitting in the corner next to it a trombone and a music stand with half composed sheet music resting on it. His old and very worn trunk sitting at the edge of the bed, his school books arranged neatly on top of it. The bed that covered in old warn down quilts and home made pillows that Doug knew for a fact didn’t belong to Chad at all. A small part of Doug broke and he sniffled at the onslaught of tears that fell from his eyes, why would anyone go through so much trouble of making him part of Chad’s life when this would be the only time. Chad would cast him aside just like all the others, just like his own family had done.“Mal and Lonnie thought it would be a nice if you had all your stuff already here. Save you the need to move it all out of your old dorm. Since you won't be going back to that.”Doug nodded numbly, “So… um how do you want to do this.”Chad smiles before turning Doug around. He laces his fingers into the hair on the nape of Doug's neck bringing him forward for a soft kiss. They stay like that for a little while kissing softly, Doug relishes the feeling believing that this will be the last time that he will ever feel it. Chad hums into the kiss after a while and begins to becken Doug's mouth open. He swipes at the bottom of his lip for access and within time he gives it to him. Every now and then they break apart for air. But meld back together.The soft kisses soon turn from soft to passionate and as they do Chad begins to back Doug up towards the bed. Doug walks willingly so lost in the sensation of being kissed so fully without the hungry want to dominate his mouth. When his legs hit the back of the bed he collapses on it. Chad towers over him smiling a shit eating grin. Dougs lips are swollen red and he is panting. “Mon petit nain précieux,” Chad sighs with great affection.Doug blinks, “Wha…”Chad continues to repeat the phrase over and over again in between kisse. Hands roam up Doug’s body pressing into every inch of skin, sliding the clothing off with great haste. If they ever did this again, that would be the time for teasing. Tonight though would be all about making Doug feel loved, completing the bond. It wasn’t long before Doug was lying very, very naked on the bed. Chad knelt above him admiring the pale freckled skin. He was like precious porcelain, so easy to break yet so beautiful to look at. Chad could see all the scars that the men that had taken him like a map on his skin. He could also see scars not placed on Doug's body from the men that took him. Chad resigned himself to ask about them some other time when Doug wasn’t so high strung and in the middle of sex. His skin was soft and malleable, Chad noted that he must take very, very good care of it. Light golden brown hair trails down his mid drift to his groin. There isn’t much of it and it looks somewhat out of place on the boy. Nestled in soft curls lie his penis, not fully awake. Not even half away. Chad would have to do something about that. In all truth Doug looked like a child, a child of the mines no less, but a child. He felt almost bad about deflowering the boy, when the thought struck him, he wasn’t do that. Someone else had already done such deed. He was making sure that no one tried to do it again. Chad trailed his fingers down Doug's thy making the boy shiver and bring his legs together. Beautiful eyes fluttered closed before opening his legs up again. Chad bites his lip before reaching down and kissing the inside of Doug's thy. He moves his lips up slowly cautious of Doug's reaction the whole time. When Chad reaches Doug's groin he softly curls his fingers around the flaccid cock before giving it a soft kiss. He watches as it twitches. Doug watches quietly from where he lies, no one had ever tried something like this before, it gave him such surprise that anyone would touch him in this way. Doug supposes that he doesn’t have much to go on. Dougs fingers twitch in the sheets as Chad lets the tip of his tongue touch the top of his penis. Doug gasps as Chad sucks his penis into his mouth, “What… Ah”Chad tries to not to smirk around the appendage mindful of his teeth as he swirls his tongue around it. He can feel it growing and stiffening in his mouth. Chad pulls off with a soft pop before kissing the tip of Doug's erection. Chad leans back up and kisses Doug softly, “So beautiful.”Doug swallows and bites his lip. He knows what comes next and by that he is nervous. Chad kisses the tip of his nose and then his cheek moving down to his chin. From his chin his neck, sucking softly in the spot until Doug became a whimpering mess. Somewhere along the way Chad had moved around and gotten the bottle of lube out him drawer. The sound of the cap being removed was harsh in the soft silence of the room. Chad felt Doug freeze up against him, He nipped the soft skin, “I won't hurt you. I promise.”Doug breaths in before taking a slow breath out. His body begin to relax again as Chad moves down his body peppering kisses. Before he can get very far Doug’s hand grips his shoulder tightly, “Are.. are you going to take your clothing off?”Chad blinks, He hadn’t even thought about that. He shift so that he is sitting up tugging his clothing off quickly so that he is also naked. Once he is completely undressed he tries to resume what he had planned earlier, but Dougs hands and wide eyes stop him. Doug sits up causing Chad to fall backwards, It was weird having someone else leaning over him. Chad was so use to be the one in charge, but he would gladly hand over all the control just to see Doug's wide eyed expression. Something between lust and astonishment.Soft nimble fingers traced over his abdominal muscles, tracing the six pack. His fingers dipped into Chad’s navle and then down to his thy. Watching the muscles they are hard and strong from years of being so active in sports. His fingers come back up and brush against his chest and then neck. Chad was already hard, but all the attention was making him even harder. If that was even possible.Doug bites his lip before sliding his hands down his own thy. “I want to... “Chad looks at him with a soft smile, “What do you want.”“To ride you,” he mumbles.Chad blinks, “Okay.”Doug smiles a huge smile, “Are you sure…?”Chad nods his head, “Lets just change situations. Places.”Doug nods and in a heap of bodies and limbs they change sides so that Chad is lying on the abundance of pillows and Doug is sitting at the end of the bed. Chad looks at him with such openness. “Come here.”Doug does as he’s told crawling over to Chad sitting on his lap. Chad goes back to the lube pouring a good amount onto his fingers. With a bit of maneuvering he is able to press a finger into Doug’s entrance. He swirls it around his entrance before pressing into him. Doug bites his lip trying to relax the trying too get past the burn. Chad squeezes his knee before pulling his finger out and then pushing it back in. When Doug's labored breaths begin to turn into soft huffs Chad adds another finger kissing Doug as he does. Doug whimpers at first, but Chad does his best distracting him. He curls his fingers around looking for that one spot that would make stars appear. It takes a couple of thrusts before he finds it making Doug gasp and whimpers. Chad smirks, “Feel good?”Dog huffs, “Yes…”Soon two fingers becomes three and Doug starts to moan instead of whimper. When Chad feels the muscles loosen enough he pulls his fingers free and slicks up his own cock. It’s is leaking and every part of him wants to shove right in, but he knows better than that. Chad breaths before laying his hands down motioning for Doug to lower himself down on him when he was ready. Doug bites his lip before steading Chad’s dick and then lowering his weeping hole down inch by inch. It burned so bad, but it wasn’t unbearable. He had been through far worse, and this was what he wanted. To be able to see the man that he loved while he sat upon him.When he finally was fully seated upon Chad lap, Doug leaned forward breathing in slowly, Chad just presses soft reassuring touches into his hip. “breath, take your time.”Doug nods his head before lifting himself up and shifting ever so slightly trying to find the spot inside of himself that makes it all worth it. The second time that he comes back down is less painful. He continues the this, moving up and down trying so hard to find that one spot. The pain lessens and lessens each and every time. Chad notes that Doug seems to be getting slightly annoyed and so he shifts his own hips and grasps Doug's bringing him down harder than Doug had been going. The boy cries out nails digging into Chad’s shoulder. “Do… do that again.”Chad smirks before lifting Doug up and pulling his back down over and over again. Chad watched as Doug’s breathing became more and more rapid and uneven and his small whimpers soon became full blown moans. In blurs of moans and whimpers Doug’s body begins to clench and before he realizes it he is coming all over Chad’s chest clenching his channel as he does. Chad follows shortly after him. Doug gasps before slumping onto Chad groaning as Chad slips out of him. Doug rolls over whimpering as the cum slides out of his ass. Chad is quick to grap a few keeneks and whipe up the mess they made. Once that is done he lifts the comforter and pulls Doug into a warm embrace. Chad smiles kissing his neck softly.Doug hums in content, never before had he been cuddles after sex, though he supposes that was due to the type of sex that was being forced upon him. Doug reaches up taking his glasses off, as he does he notices the mark on Chad’s chest. It is no longer black, no now it is a multi of colors showing that he and Chad were now mated. married of a sort. he now belongs fully to Chad.Doug hummed as he placed his glasses on the nightstand, everything was going to be okay. He curled into Chad’s chest breathing in his scent. He didn’t know what was going to happen. How their lives were going to be, but he knew that it was going to be okay. Whatever came, whatever happened Chad would be his and he would be cherished.
10144931	Talk of the Town	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla, Garazeb \"Zeb\" Orrelios, Ezra Bridger", "Fandom": "Star Wars: Rebels", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by prepare4trouble", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "2017-03-08", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "3,072", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Visually Impaired Ezra Bridger, Gossip, Gossip Spreading, Rumors, Coping, Space family, Kanan's delicate nose, stinky Zeb", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Kanan Jarrus & Hera Syndulla, Ezra Bridger & Kanan Jarrus", "Series": "Little By Little", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Kanan didn’t actually feel unsteady on his feet as he made his careful way back to the Ghost, but he was aware that it probably looked that way. He walked more slowly than usual, taking the time to make sure that he was absolutely certain of where he was and what might be nearby. He was being overly cautious; he hadn’t had much to drink at all, but it had been more than he had expected, and he had learned the hard way the effect that alcohol could have on his ability to sense his surroundings. That had been an embarrassing mistake that he was in no hurry to repeat. He was just glad that Chopper hadn’t been around to witness it.The drink had been surprisingly okay. It wasn’t something he would order in a bar, or anywhere with any kind of an alternative option, but it would do in a pinch, and unlike the last batch, it hadn’t felt as though it was stripping tastebuds from his tongue as it went down. Not only that, but the alcohol had taken the edge off what could have been a very difficult conversation.Well, it had still been difficult, but the drink certainly hadn’t made it any worse.Kanan tripped over something that wasn’t there. He stopped, hand on the wall, and took a deep breath. He wasn’t drunk, but he was over-thinking, trying too hard to compensate for the what had to be negligible effect of a couple of shots, and it was having the opposite effect to what he had intended. It was leaving him more likely to make a mistake, not less. He made himself relax, reached out through the Force and located Hera. He needed to speak to Ezra, warn him about potential base gossip, but first he had better tell Hera that Rex had been informed.He located her in her quarters and went directly there, trailing his hand again the wall as he did, just in case.He pressed the door chime, but didn’t wait for an invitation before letting himself inside. He stepped through the door, and as it closed behind him, leaned against the wall. “One down,” he said.Hera didn’t respond right away. He heard the sound of fingertips tapping at a datapad before the device was placed on the desk before her. “What?” she asked. She sounded distracted. Kanan moved away from the wall, took a few steps in her direction, and reached for the chair that she kept at the opposite side of the desk. He located it with a sweep of his hand, pulled it out and sat down heavily.“You’ve been drinking,” Hera said accusingly.Kanan frowned. “Well, yeah. I went to meet up with Rex, he happened to have a sample of the new batch from the still, so…” He covered his mouth. “It was only a little bit, you can’t smell it, can you?”Hera sighed, and took a deep breath in through her nose. “No,” she assured him. “But I can always tell. You move differently, like you’re... uncertain again. I don’t like it, especially now.”“I’m fine,” Kanan assured her. “It was two drinks.” He paused, considering. Unless Rex had topped him up without him noticing, which was entirely possible. He had been a little distracted at the time. “Rex knows now, anyway. I just thought I should tell you.”Somewhere, on the very periphery of his awareness, Kanan noticed that Zeb had entered the ship. Judging by the time, he was probably heading to get something to eat, but there was a distinct possibility he intended to go to his quarters; the quarters that he shared with Ezra. Kanan frowned. If he did that, the chances were good that Ezra would leave, leading to a frustrating search before Kanan was able to speak to him.He pushed the thought out of his mind, and directed all of his attention on Hera, refining his awareness to take in as many details as he could. She nodded. “Sato knows too, and…” she stopped. He felt a frustration from her, communicated through the Force.“What is it?”She sighed. “Sato’s removed Ezra from active duty,” she raised a hand as if to still his objections before he could voice them. “Don’t.”“What?” he asked. He had heard her just fine, but the question gave him a moment to gather his thoughts. Unfortunately, they refused to be gathered. “What?” he said again.“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t say it. Let me explain,” Hera said, misunderstanding. “Sato spoke to Ezra after I was done telling him, I didn’t know anything about it until Ezra told me.”Kanan shook his head, torn between the urge to stay and grill her for more information, and the equally strong urge to get to Ezra as soon as possible, talk to him about this as well as the other thing. Before the other thing, because this was a more immediate concern, this was something that was affecting Ezra right now. He wouldn’t actually be able to do anything about it, but he had to make sure the kid was alright. The two opposing urges left him trapped in the middle, unable to make himself do either. “Is Ezra okay?” he asked. “How did he take it?”“How do you think?” Hera snapped, then sighed. “Sorry. No, not… not well.” She stumbled over the words, and Kanan could hear the stress and the exhaustion in her voice. “I told him I’d speak to Sato, but he’s tied up in meetings all day, then he’s leaving this evening, he won’t be back for a few days, so…” she buried her face in her hands. “The worst part is, I think he might be right. Sato, I mean. I wish he’d gone about it differently, but…” she tailed off again, sounding helpless as the words failed her.Kanan reached across the desk and touched her lightly on the arm, trying to comfort her without implying that he was going to take her side in that. Sato wasn’t right. The whole thing made no sense. Ezra was… okay not fine, but close enough to it that this was unnecessary at this stage.He leaned in a little closer and dropped his voice to almost a whisper; a pointless gesture as they were the only ones present, but it felt right. “Listen to me,” he said. “You can’t imagine what this is like for Ezra.” He heard, or felt, he wasn’t sure, Hera open her mouth to reply. “No,” he said, cutting her off before she could protest his point. “You can’t imagine it, I know that because I can’t imagine it.”He let that statement hang in the air for a moment. If anyone could know what Ezra was going through, it should be Kanan, and maybe he did have a certain similar perspective, but it wasn’t the same thing, not really. It wasn’t even close.“But what I do know is that he’s having a tough enough time as it is, without something else being taken from him,” he continued. “Especially this. You take this away, what does he have left?”Hera sighed deeply. “He has us,” she said finally.And that was true, but it had always been true, and it wasn’t enough.“But I am going to speak to Sato,” she continued, “see if I can at least put some kind of condition, or review date on the suspension. He’s not wrong though, Kanan. I wish he was. But if something happened because Ezra couldn't see, I’d never forgive myself, and I know he wouldn’t either.”Kanan shook his head. “I don’t think anything’s going…”“Nor do I,” Hera interrupted. “But that’s the point, we just can’t know that. Today, when I spoke to him, I was standing to his side and he couldn’t see me. He should have been able to, but he couldn’t. If I’d been an enemy...”“Okay. I need to speak to Ezra,” Kanan said as she tailed off. As he got to his feet, the door to Hera’s quarters opened for a second time.Zeb. In his shock at the direction that the conversation had taken, Kanan had forgotten about the Lasat’s arrival, but the last thing he had been expecting was for him to burst unannounced through the door to Hera’s quarters. A foul odor followed him into the room.Kanan could sense Hera’s horror at the sight of Zeb. Whatever was going on, he looked every bit as bad as he smelled.“For the record,” Zeb said. “Spiders? Not good to eat.”Hera was on her feet and at the other side of the desk in seconds. Kanan raised a hand to his nose to ward off the stench. It didn’t help.“Well,” Zeb corrected, “I’m assuming. Having caught the damn thing, I actually couldn’t bring myself to try it on account of the smell.”There was a sound too. A soft, wet, plop of something dripping onto the hard floor. Another spike of horror from Hera. “Is that blood?”“Ah,” said Zeb, embarrassed. “Yeah, but it’s not mine. Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you I was back, in case you needed me for anything.”“The only thing I need,” Hera told him, “is you in the shower right now! And clean up any of the blood you’ve dripped on the floor before somebody slips.” She raised a hand to her head as though she had a headache coming. “And when you’re done, go and see Kanan before you go anywhere else, he can tell you if that smell’s gone.”Kanan spun around to face Hera. “Wait, what?”“Heh, yeah okay,” Zeb said, and disappeared. The door closed behind him.Hera slumped as he did. She leaned back against her desk, half-sitting on the edge and cradled her head in her hands. “What is going on?” she asked. “Everything’s going wrong and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”The room still stank of spider, a fetid, rotten odor that brought to mind unpleasant memories. He reached for her, and pulled her into a loose embrace. “It’s okay,” he assured her. “Everyone’s a little on edge. Yourself included, probably. It’ll take a while for things to settle down, but they will.” He hoped. Though it was probably going to get worse before it got better.Hera drew in a shaky breath and nodded, her head moving against his shoulder.“Now,” Kanan said. “Do you want to tell me why I have to be the one to do the sniff test?”“Because you said yourself, you have the most sensitive nose on the base.”That was the second time in an hour that that had been brought up. If he didn’t put a stop to it right now, the joke was going to be all over the base, and wherever he turned he would be faced with somebody asking him to sniff something.“I didn’t say that exactly. And anyway, you know as well as I do that I only said what I did to…” he stopped. There was something else that was going to spread across the base soon too, and he needed to speak to Ezra before it did. “Never mind,” he said. He slowly released her from the hug. “I need to talk to Ezra, we’ll pick this up later, okay?”“Okay,” Hera agreed.Kanan turned to leave again. The room still smelled, but he didn’t mention it; no point adding more fuel to the fire. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- He found Ezra in his quarters, lying on his back on the bunk, head supported by his hands. He rang the door chime, and waited for an invitation this time. It came less quickly than he had imagined, but when it finally did, he let himself inside. As he had waited, Ezra had gotten to his feet and was now standing, awkwardly leaning against the bunks. “Hey,” he said in a tone filled with false cheer, as the door closed.“Hey,” Kanan repeated. He hesitated, unsure how to begin. “Hera told me,” he blurted, and Ezra immediately gave up all pretense and sank down onto Zeb’s bunk, presumably simply because it was easier than climbing back onto his own.“Oh,” he said in a hollow, empty voice. “Which part?”Kanan frowned, taken aback. That implied that there was something else? “She told me about Sato,” he clarified. “What he told you.”When Ezra didn’t respond, Kanan sat down next to him. “We’ll get it all sorted out,” he promised.”“Yeah?” asked Ezra. “How? He seemed pretty certain. Hera said she’s going to fix it, but…” he didn’t pause to consider, or hesitate, but simply stopped talking midway through the sentence, as though the words were no longer important.Hera had said something entirely different to him, when she had heavily implied that she might be about to take Sato’s side on the issue.“And I’m sure she will,” Kanan said, and hoped that his uncertainty didn’t come through in his voice. “In the meantime, I should probably warn you, Zeb’s just taken a shower…”“Not the worst thing that could happen,” Ezra said, with what sounded gratifyingly like a smile.Kanan shook his head, but smiled back at him thinly. “You didn’t let me finish,” he said. “It looks like he decided to go hunting spiders this morning, he came back a little bloody, and… fragrant. Hera ordered him to take a shower, but I don’t hold out too much hope of all the stink coming off.”Ezra didn’t answer at first, and Kanan got the distinct impression that Ezra was staring at him as he tried to work out whether it was some kind of bizarre joke. “Wait,” he said. “You’re telling me that the day I have to sleep back in here with Zeb, is the day he decides to take a bath in stench?”Kanan grimaced. “It wasn’t a ‘bath’ as such. I think he just got a bit on him when he… I have no idea what he was doing. But basically, yeah. Sorry. But hey, it could be worse. At least you don’t have ‘the most sensitive nose on the base’.”“Uh,” Ezra mulled that over, confused. Clearly the joke, or rumor, or whatever it was, hadn’t found its way to him yet. “I might,” he said. “I mean it’s not like we ever had a competition.” He huffed a tiny laugh, “If we did, though, Sabine would lose. I’m pretty sure she can’t smell anything at all, I think the paint fumes knocked out her sense of smell entirely.”There was an opportunity here to steer the conversation in the direction of the actual reason that he had been intending to come looking for Ezra, before he had been waylaid by Sato’s ridiculous decision, and Zeb’s even more ridiculous hunting expedition. He didn’t particularly want to take it at this point, but they did need to talk about it.“Remember the mission Zeb and Sabine were on?” he asked. “Remember what I told you about the planet?”“Moon,” Ezra corrected. “And yeah, sulphur, right?”Kanan winced. “When I told Hera I couldn't go, there’s a chance I used that as an excuse. Some stupid lie about not being able to cope with the smell because… well it’s not important. The point is, it’s gotten out there, I’ve encountered it twice today, and I don’t think it’ll be long before half the base are talking about ‘Kanan’s delicate nose’.”Ezra laughed out loud at that, and continued for a few minutes, starting with a giggle that evolved into a chuckle and finally Kanan could feel the bed shaking with his laughter. “I can’t tell if you’re serious,” Ezra told him between gasps for air, “or if you’ve made this whole thing up, the Zeb thing too, just to cheer me up. Either way, it worked.”“Unfortunately, I’m completely serious,” Kanan told him. Now would have been the perfect time to bring it back around to Ezra, to information — true or otherwise — spreading quickly through a closed environment like the base, to the possibility that he was about to lose control of his secret and have to watch it spread in much the same way.Ezra laughed again, and the words died in Kanan’s throat. Not yet, he didn’t have the heart to do it now. They still had time, it wasn’t going to be a problem for a while, surely.Ezra sobered suddenly. He cleared his throat and took a final deep breath. “So,” he said, “talking of rumors, sort of. That other thing I guess that Hera didn’t tell you about? Some random kid decided to tell me all about how his dad hurt his eyes in some accident.”And just like that, Ezra managed to broach the subject for him. But already? It didn’t make sense. “Any chance it was some weird coincidence?”“None at all. So, that’s out there.” He sighed. “My first thought was that everyone knows, but now I’m thinking he just overheard someone or… something, I don’t know. So I guess there’ll be this in-between time where I won’t know who knows and who doesn’t. That’ll be a fun guessing game for me to play.”He was being sarcastic, and more than a little sulky, and that probably wasn’t the healthiest response, but he was actually handling it better than Kanan had expected. Kanan remained quiet, unable to think of anything that he could say that didn’t run the risk of making things worse.“It’ll probably spread faster than the news about your freakish sense of smell though,” Ezra added, “so I guess I win there.”“…which I don’t actually have,” Kanan told him.Ezra shrugged. “Hey, it’s funny, and it might distract people from talking about me. Sorry, but I’m not going to deny it if anybody asks me.”Kanan shrugged. Whatever worked. He got to his feet. “Come on,” he said. “Freakish sense of smell or not, I don’t want to be here when Zeb arrives and asks me to sniff him.” He realized he hadn’t actually shared that detail with Ezra, but he appeared either not to have noticed, or not to care. “Anyway, didn’t we schedule a lesson for today? We can talk some more while we do that, if you want.”Ezra sighed deeply, but followed him to his feet.
10109285	Going Down	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Anders (Dragon Age), Female Hawke", "Fandom": "Dragon Age II", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Dirty_Corza", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00", "words": "343", "Additional Tags": "Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Come Eating, Overstimulation, Nose Kink", "Relationship": "Anders/Female Hawke", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Mayra Hawke", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Mayra shuddered, back arching off the bed, her breath coming in labored gasps. "Anders- oh, that's- Anders-"She could almost feel it, the way he smirked against sensitive skin, nuzzling between her folds, leaving kisses and kitten licks as he explored her. "Hmm?" he hummed the inquiry as he nosed at her overly sensitive clit, as if asking why such simple touches had her quaking.All she could do was curse under her breath in response. It felt like they had been going for hours, Anders fucking her slow and hard until they both went over the edge, followed by rounds of this. Each time he let his tongue dip inside, she couldn't help but whimper. He was licking out his own seed, and each moan he gave had Mayra fighting the urge to pull him up, to kiss him until the only taste on their tongues was this crude blend of their pleasure.But tonight, she was at his mercy. He would have let her, of course, had she asked for a kiss to share the taste. But he had asked for this, a night to devote himself to seeing how much she could take, a game of him reading her reactions and giving her body things she hadn't even known she needed.Like the tip of his nose pressed against her clit. It was overwhelming in ways she hadn't expected, especially paired with the rough slide of stubble as his tongue tried to delve deeper.She cried out his name again, a not quite orgasm rocking through her, leaving her aching for more and clenching the sheets tightly in her hands to keep her begging from becoming more than just words."Hush, my love. I'm here," Anders' voice was soft as he moved to kiss her, finally sharing their taste, humming in pleasure at the way Mayra kissed him back with passion. "I'll take care of you," he murmured into the kiss as he positioned himself to enter her once more, their moans of pleasure blending together as they were joined.
10140665	I Sing of Arms and a	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by amorard3ns", "chapters": "4/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "1,685", "Additional Tags": "Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Original Fiction, Lesbian Character, Canon Lesbian Character, Romance, Action/Adventure, Gay, Gay Male Character, Canon Gay Character, Falling In Love, Love", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Aeneid - Virgil, The Odyssey - Homer, The Iliad - Homer", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/F, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	NO SERVICE. Refresh. NO SERVICE. Refresh.NO SERVICE. Refresh.“No Service”. --- She ran, zigzagging like a rabbit escaping the nearing fox which gains nevertheless, through the falling windowpanes and doors and bricks of the buildings around her. She stopped and started and stopped and started yet again in an attempt to just get to the outskirts of her home. “Just get to the city limit. You’ll be fine then,” the girl turned over on the whispers of her tongue, “past the museum, over the bridge, and up the hill. That’s it. She’ll be there. If I go out now, then I will be leaving this useless waste of a world with my body still fending off the flame and holding her hand. Stay the fuck away from me, useless smoke, the only time I’ll let you in my lungs is when I’m smoldering on a pyre.” Her footsteps fell in such an untrained manner a middle school runner would be overwhelmed with embarrassment. With the help of the smoke and strain on her childish lungs, her breathing began to quicken at a slower pace than her nagging muscles begged. The museum approached far slower than she anticipated. Already having violently receded to its basement and grown its opposite in color, the so-called building was of no comfort. The girl found herself heaving every breath she needed for the past two miles. She stopped for a minute, glanced over her shoulder, ears perking to catch the falling and wailing tones from the sky, took one sharp inhale, and took the first painstaking steps to continue her wandering towards the bridge. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- [Thirty Minutes Earlier]“Listen to me,” she said to the other girl, “do not stop. Do not look for me. Trust me, I will be there as soon as I can. There is a Koine church about two or three miles away. Go past the art museum, in a half mile or so, there is a highway with a bridge over. Keep going straight over the bridge and on your left, there is the church. There might be people there but find somewhere to hide. You know what to do. “Neil, do not let her come back to look for me. She will want to,” delivering the last phrase directly to the girl with a small smirk picking up the corner of her lips, “but you both just have to trust me. Keep a seat on the bus for me if one comes by cause this shouldn’t take too long but I have to make sure the kids are safe.”As soon as the orders left her lips, the boy and girl took off from the steps of the apartment in one direction and the remaining girl turned the other way and entered the flames and the crashing pillars, trees, and walls. About half a mile away from her apartment of two years, she opened the gate to the house of the for whom she regularly babysat. She forced her hand to the doorknob but it was unmovable. Rearing her shoulder back, she threw all her weight into the jammed entrance. Crashing to the ground, she got to her feet like a fawn testing the resistance of its new legs just after birth. Hearing the initial crack of a failing roof from the flame and soot and heat, she scanned the first floor for one of the three young boys. A soot-cloaked red caught her eye at the back of the family’s kitchen. Without a single thought, the girl leapt towards the prospect of one of the boys only to find the red not to be of a shirt or hat but of a thrown remain on the wall. Soot and gore filled her senses when she registered that the family had decided to leave the compromised city through a different means. She collapsed there against the refrigerator. Hiding in the corner was a happy family who left the city by a different road than she, making her question if she was making the right decision by escaping with her loved ones. Why should she run when her fists are working just fine and her youth and agility can offer protection to others who cannot? Thoughts turned over in her head until,“I don’t even --,” she stammered, “No. I will not be considering this. I have to fulfill my promise to the two. This family made their choice and although dying in this fight would give my name a chance to live on past my own death, I will not risk her safety”. The girl knowingly placed her feet and turned to the fallen door. She knew her path and she knew her goal: get to the church and she will see the girl and the boy again. In only fifteen minutes or so she already missed them. Leaping down the steps, checking the possible service on her phone, and attempting to call the girl, she sprinted towards the destination. Retrying the number again and again, she ached to hear the girl’s voice just in case this was her last chance. Giving up, she pushed on to the museum. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- She searched for a place to hide, scanned the closets for some still holding clothes with which to cover herself, stomped the floorboards for some sign of deceitful hiding place. Finding nothing of use, she receded to where Neil had been left behind. “Okay we’re going to have to get a little creative here. No bus has arrived, neither has Amy, and there isn’t anywhere we can camp out. All the clothes are gone and I couldn’t seem to find the storeroom close-by.” Taking Neil’s hand, she looked straight into his eyes and recited, “this is the last day for our city. But we are not going down with it. You, Amy, and I will get out of here. I will make sure of that. Even if I have to dig out a piece of the wall to --”.Her eyes sprung from their resting position and, with his hand still in hers, she sprinted towards the sanctuary. Here her eyes fell on the prey like a shark from a mile away, knowing the precious meal before even within sight. The silent silver bird with a permanent wingspan and silver plumes spanned the wall. She rested her right hand on the organ, uncertain of how much time before their safety was compromised. “Okay Neil, we’ve gotta do this really fucking fast, okay?” The boy only nodded in acknowledgement. “So we need to find a way to unfasten the pipes from the organ so we can at least try and hide in there before they search the chapel.”The two’s heart beat began to race as soon as their hands touched the icy silver pipes. The girl crossed her arm to her left side and carefully drew the hatchet. Hacking away at the wooden base of the pipes, she was able to wiggle them out of their dwelling and onto the keys, out of use for quite some time now. After a time allowing for a sizable spot to be revealed, she and Neil reached their legs, then arms, then torsos into the organ and assembled the metal pipes for cover. As soon as the final metal foliage was in place, the two could pick up a distant sound of clattering. Footsteps grew until the arm of the sanctuary itself, the residence of the two, was opened and they began to search. The heartbeat of each hidden person filled the body of the organ, so it seemed. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Amy barreled up the hill, panting and her face reddening to a point she never thought possible. Forgetting to be careful, she tripped up the steps to the chapel and flung open the doors. Her maroon boots stomping on the wooden floors, she searched the pews, scanning the top and throwing her eyesight beneath all the seats. Until her eyes landed on the organ. Something was off. If she had noticed then she was sure the others would have too, right? One of the pipes was askew, like someone was back there?Cautiously, she peered through the cracks of the silver, closing her left eye and cupping her hands over her eyes.She was jolted to the ground and her right hand immediately, reflexively, recoiled and sprung and her unseen enemy. After her right fist was released, apologies flew out of her mouth.“Cass! CASS!! Fuck, I never thought I’d see you again! Good god I didn’t expect to greet you this way!” Both girls let out the first sign of a laugh in days. Amy extended her reddening hand to the girl on the ground and brought her to eye level.Amy glanced down from the girl’s eyes to her rapidly bruising cheek and Amy promised herself that this would never happen again. Both the bruise and that she would not let Cass out of her sight after this. She couldn’t risk losing her, especially after all they had gone through together. The boy finally spoke after watching the two girls interact, “well I’m so glad to be safe! Wow, Neil, I really do love you! Oh man I am SO glad I have someone who loves me! I guess that’s what friends are for, right guys? Guys? Seriously, I was stuck in that organ with Cass for about an hour and I think she farted at least twice. Amy! Did you hear me? Goddammit this is why I don’t like girls”.While Neil inched away from the PDA between his best friends to go find some books in the unchecked rooms, the two girls gathered each other's hands in their own. Cass leaned her head down to meet Amy’s short stature and sweating forehead. “Amy, I hate you so goddamn much,” Cass whispered. “Now we’re in a church so I don’t think you can really say that, hon,” replied Amy, “even though I guess we’ll be going to hell anyways.”Their noses touched and their breath hitched, tentatively releasing hot air into their opening mouths as their tongues slowly followed.
10175819	Meus Infractus Somnium	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": null, "Characters": "Harry Potter, Other(s)", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by shadeshadow [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "3/3", "completed": "2008-08-01", "published": "2008-07-31T00:00:00", "words": "2,850", "Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Self-Harm, Action/Adventure, Angst, Tragedy, Bonding, Crossover, Hurt/Comfort", "Relationship": "Harry Potter/Other(s)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "M/M, Gen", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Summery: When a past life intrudes on a present life it can cause all sorts of mishaps, but when your past self begins to merge with the present then a true problem can begin to appear when you are trapped between two personalities. Disclaimer: Don’t own HP or YYH only the plot ideas running round in my head. Warnings: None at this moment in time Genre’s: HP/YYH Crossover Meus Infractus Somnium Prologue ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I am beginning to disbelieve what happened to me. It does not seem to be real and yet I can’t disperse my thoughts of that other place. Something inside me rebels against the idea of forgetting the people and friends I met. Perhaps it was a dream of a hope I had; a hope of a devoted love, true friendship and many dreams all encased in one nightmare, but now I am getting ahead of myself. Maybe you would like to know more about me or the place that I am talking about but… No, I will start from the beginning and take you through the trials that I faced. From friend to foe, and to the one who loved me as their own. Thus I begin my tale of happiness and hatred; friend and foe; good and evil and everything in-between. Welcome to my story: Meus Infractus Somnium ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End Prologue Translation:Latin to EnglishMeus Infractus Somnium – My Broken Dreams ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Summery: When a past life intrudes on a present life it can cause all sorts of mishaps, but when your past self begins to merge with the present then a true problem can begin to appear when you are trapped between two personalities. Disclaimer: Don’t own HP or YYH only the plot ideas running round in my head. Warnings: None at this moment in time Genre’s: HP/YYH Crossover Meus Infractus Somnium Chapter 1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Past: Realm – Makai Her hands were cupped around the crystal protectively, her face bowed down eyes closed. Silent tears ran down her cheeks, slowly dripping off onto the crystal which flashed each time the salty liquid hit its surface. Her voice was muted as she spoke the trance, the fighting around her and the precious burden did not disturb them in the protective barrier. Ears twitched as green-gold eyes watched the still form of his mother, black hair falling messily over his shoulders to pool on the floor where he sat. The sounds of the battle were muted to his sensitive ears so he paid it no heed, more interested in the flashing crystal in his mother’s hands. Soon enough her eyes opened as the crystal grew to its brightest shine yet. Cutting her hand with a sharpened nail, she let her blood run onto the crystal the crimson disappearing as soon as it hit. Gritting her teeth she ignored the little ones curious and concerned croon as she kept a careful eye on how much blood was being taken into the jewel. With another flash that caused a terrified cry from the young one, who curled into a ball and covered his eyes, signified the ending of the ritual. Sighing in relief, she looked over at the boy who was curled up in his fox form, his fright having caused a mixture of Magi and Youkai to switch his body back into his truest form. Reaching over and ignoring the dirt that covered the lad, she picked him up while talking soothingly to him. That light having been much brighter than the first one had been full of Magi as well, the lad now curled in her lap had caught the full blast of the Magic at hand. Shifting she ran a hand through his black fur, feeling every vertebra and bone of the younglings body her eyes deepening in sorrow, for the foolish hunters who were even now wiping out the rest of the Kokuei pack had killed his siblings, Otousan and Arufa. Sighing she leaned down and with what knowledge she had learned nuzzled the young one, who in return slowly uncurled. His muzzle shifting to look in her face ears right back against his head as gold eyes watched her warily. Wincing as cracks began appearing in the shield around them, she began to hurriedly thread some of the hardest yet flexible metal, through the crystal. Tying it so the jewel would not slip off, she then pulled it around the kits neck tying it securely so it would not fall. Now interested with the new thing around his neck, the kit reached up with a black paw and began to bat at the sparkling object, his earlier fear gone. Smiling down at the kit she then picked him up and placed him back on the ground. Standing up in her stained dress, she began to pray once more a shimmering light appearing around the young one drawing his attention. Ignoring all around her she kept on chanting, even as more cracks appearing in her shielding the Magi beginning to break down with the strain. Then with a soundless explosion the magic that had gathered around the child erupted, his form beginning to fade. The blast of magic took out all forms of magic in that area from shields to attacks. Falling foreword onto her knees she looked up at the young one who was in his humanised form once more, he beginning to look panicky as he looked around. Then spotting her he stretched a hand young innocent eyes pleading for comfort. Lifting herself up a bit more she went to give him comfort one more time, when she felt a strange sensation. Blinking she swallowed the copper tasting liquid that gathered in her mouth, bringing a hand to her aching chest she encountered something that should not have been there. Looking downwards slowly she saw the ridged edge of a once silver sided blade now coated crimson sticking out of her chest and into the mud below. Looking back up she saw the young kit had faded to almost nothing, seized with a urge to touch him one last time, she stretched out a hand to touch him. When he finally faded completely and her hand went straight through where he had been last. Mouth open in sorrow her arm dropped lifeless to the ground, one more tear trickling down her face. Coughing she let herself drop onto the mud, her job now done and welcomed the death coming for her. Looking up at the sky with the battle still raging in the background she faded, the fate of all in the hands of a child who would change the world, they just did not know it yet.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End Chapter 1 Translation:Latin to EnglishMeus Infractus Somnium – My Broken DreamsJapanese to EnglishKokuei - Dark shadowOtousan - FatherArufa – AlphaKit – Fox Demon ChildKitsune – Fox DemonMakai – Demon Realm ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: When a past life intrudes on a present life it can cause all sorts of mishaps, but when your past self begins to merge with the present then a true problem can begin to appear when you are trapped between two personalities. Summery: When a past life intrudes on a present life it can cause all sorts of mishaps, but when your past self begins to merge with the present then a true problem can begin to appear when you are trapped between two personalities. Disclaimer: Don’t own HP or YYH only the plot ideas running round in my head. Warnings: None at this moment in time Genre’s: HP/YYH Crossover Meus Infractus Somnium Chapter 2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Present Day: Realm – Ningenkai I have always wondered if people can understand another persons mind or even perhaps the strange but wonderful feelings that can slowly destroy the very being of a creature. I myself are one such case, going though the pain has not been the beginning nor the end of my existence but a curse showing that I am still alive with this regret. We all do or say things that we may not mean and people either hate or love us for the words that come out of our mouths. But what perhaps if you mean what you say can someone do? They can try to get you out of the feelings you are immersed in but evidently it can be turned around on them into hate. What then can anyone do but watch as slowly the feelings destroy from the inside out and bring pain upon… Lifting his head Harry gazed at the window to the window ledge outside at the tawny owl that was pecking on the glass. Shifting carefully he placed his work onto the small table beside his bedside and placed the quill beside it on a cloth to keep the ink from dripping everywhere. Placing a hand on the window sill he moved carefully, so not to disturb his wounds too much while slowly moving on his bed to open the window for the owl to come in from the freezing night of winter. Feeling the cold feathers just brush his face, Harry shut the window careful not to make a sound and draw his Uncles attention and wrath down upon himself. Breathing sharply through clenched teeth, Harry made sure to not put weight on his right foot as he slid off the bed and limped over to the owl, which was waiting quietly, almost as though the animal knew not to make a sound within the deadly silent house. Speaking quietly to the creature he detached the letter from its leg and brought out a bowl of water for the owl to drink. Sitting on his bed, he broke the seal of the letter and opened it wondering who would be contacting him; the only one he had contacted would not have yet received the reply to the letter he had sent the way of Hedwig. Flattening out the parchment’s as there had been several in the envelope, he read over the first Paragraph. Dear Mr H Potter… The Gringotts United Kingdom Branch of the continental Goblin Society have come across some very disturbing facts to do with your numerous Accounts, for you did not come as requested in your Eleventh Year the United Kingdom Branch of Gringotts have been looking after the various Accounts within our possession. Looking up Harry saw the owl was watching him patiently its black eyes fixated on him, looking back for a long second the owl then hooted quietly breaking the stillness that had come over him. Shaking his head he grimaced at the thoughts that had been going through his head, almost like something else had awoken for a second but had been suppressed when his gaze had broken from the tawny owl. Breathing out with exasperation he turned his attention back to the letter curiosity gnawing at him almost like a living thing. We sent a request to one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore… Harry wrinkled his nose at all the names Albus had and carried on reading. We sent a request to one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore on your coming of age on your Eleventh day of Age, but we were noticeably turned down in the knowledge that you had been already informed of your Heritage and Accounts, which has increased in number as Foremost Relatives have died, that are known in your mother and Father’s Family Ancestry Tapestry. Harry’s breathing had begun to increase as the pedestal he had put Dumbledore upon had begun to crumble and his faith to crack. Looking through the records of the Accounts you hold, it has came to light that several withdrawals has been made within your name. Investigations were taken into the withdrawals as mentioned and investigations have turned out some disturbing results that we the Gringotts Goblins Unification have been quite concerned about. He shook his head in disbelief at what he was reading, but could not tear himself away from the parchment or printed words. Thus we have sent you the following Parchments of the various accounts you hold along with Listed Possessions, Homes, Money amount and Inheritances that should have been received by you on your Eleventh Age. Each Parchment is spelled so only the receiver of this letter, by blood given, can see the contents of the Parchments. He took out the Parchments and placed them at the side to look at later while turning back to the Gringotts letter. The Goblins of the United Kingdom branch of Gringotts await you to receive the rings and to have any Spells, Potions, Blood Oaths and other Magick means removed for the Blood inheritances to take affect on your 16th Coming of Age, the Inheritance year. Be warned that going through your Inheritance alone can end with Brain Damage, Severe Wounds, Blood Loss, Insanity, Hysteria or even Death. Furthermore the wills set by One James Charlus Potter, One Lily Goldwin Evan’s and One Sirius Orion Black will be read when you, One Harry James Potter come to the United Kingdom Branch of Gringotts for the wills to be read and come into effect. Come to Gringotts before your Birth Date, preparations have been made for your prompt arrival for your Inheritances, Will reading and Ring Receiving. We await your answer by Owl Mr H Potter May Gold Gift You With Greatness GoldbrickHead Goblin of Potter AccountsRepresentative of Olde Family AncestryWill Reader of Nationality: United KingdomHead of Curse Breakers Oath Keepers He stared at nothing, his face blank while his mind went round in circles questioning everything he knew. ‘Did Dumbledore want to keep me in the dark about this?’ He raised a hand that was covered in dried blood from his wounds, which had stopped bleeding a while ago. ‘I could die from my inheritance, is that what the Headmaster wants?’ He lifted the other hand with the letter up to his face and he read over it again to make sure he got everything correct that he had seen on the parchment. ‘I must reply to the Goblins’ Then grabbing his quill and dipping it into the ink pot, he wrote on an empty piece of parchment his reply to the letter and a question of transporting himself to the facility in question. Reading over his answer he was pleased with what he had put. Folding it up he placed it in the same envelope it came in and sealed it with his magic, something he had found increasingly easier to do as time went by. Lifting his hand from the wax, the letter was now sealed with the crest of the Potter family encased in the wax. Looking back up at the Tawny owl, which was watching him, he held up the now sealed reply and held out an arm. Flying across the owl alighted on Harry’s arm, tying the letter to its leg he moved slowly and painfully to the window once more. Opening it he turned to the owl that was shifting impatient to leave on his arm. “Straight to Goldbrick if you please and with all due haste, this matter cannot rest.” With a hoot of reassurance that the tawny could get to its destination, the owl opened its wings and flew out his window going directly to the Goblin in question. Leaving his window open Harry watched the owl fade into the distance, longing and some other emotion tangled in a ball in his chest while something almost a whine was heard from his throat, something that you only heard in a dog or a fox. Sighing he moved back in while shutting the window once more, though this time he was unlucky in trying to be quiet. Moving to close the curtains in front of his window was a fatal mistake, for when reaching for the covering he moved over his current limits of his wounds causing him to cry out, almost howl in agony. “BOY!” Opening his clenched eyes he slowly uncurled and looked up at the door dreading what was to come. He swallowed, his features showing fear and terror clearly as he watched the door to his room and heard the various locks being opened. Blinking back tears, he made sure to use a small amount of Wandless and Wordless magic to hide and protect his letter and diary he had been working on. Then with a final sound of the last lock being undone the door opened and in came his Uncle who had a sneer on his features. “You are going to regret waking me and my family up boy. I will make sure of it.” With a whimper of stifled terror from Harry his Uncle advanced on him, his green eyes showing just for a second something unnatural, inhuman and almost demonic in nature before Harry’s eyes shut in preparation in what was to come. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End Chapter 2 Translation:Latin to EnglishMeus Infractus Somnium – My Broken DreamsJapanese to EnglishKokuei - Dark shadowOtousan - FatherArufa – AlphaKit – Fox Demon ChildKitsune – Fox DemonMakai – Demon RealmNingenkai – Human Realm
10194374	Tantalizing	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Original Percival Graves, Newt Scamander, Theseus Scamander", "Fandom": "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by silverynight", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "586", "Additional Tags": "Pining, sorry is not threesome, Theseus wants Newt so bad, Percival knows it, Sibling Incest, Kinda?, Voyeurism", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander, Newt Scamander/Theseus Scamander", "Series": null, "Collections": "Harry Potter, Fantastic Ships and Where to Find Them", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Newt is riding Percival's cock when Theseus walks in their bedroom. He sits on a chair close to the bed and starts to ask Percival about a case like they're just having tea.It's not the first time he does that. No, the first time Newt got all flustered and tried to hide under Percival's sweaty body.But he got used to it after the fifth time that happened.Theseus keeps his face completely neutral as he continues talking about how his aurors seem to have found one of the buildings where Grindelwald's followers are hiding. Percival answers as best as he can while Newt keeps fucking himself on his dick.Then Newt lets out a loud whimper and bites his lip, he arches and throws his head back, exposing the soft curve of his neck and closes his eyes in pleasure.That's when Theseus' composed mask falls off; his eyes suddenly dark, roaming all over Newt's body and devouring him shamelessly.That's the real reason he walks in their bedroom when they're on it. Percival knows it, has known since he started dating Newt.Newt has always been oblivious, but Percival is an auror, a very skilled one, and he saw through Theseus' facade right away. He notices the longing, the hopeless stares, the way he steals a touch every chance he has.He knows Theseus' overprotection is just a hidden jealousy. He knows the other auror doesn't approve their relationship, but allows it because Newt seems happy.Percival is well aware that Theseus likes to watch them because he wants to be the one fucking Newt, he wants to be in Percival's place, but knows very well he can't.Percival doesn't like it, but he doesn't do anything either, because Newt loves his brother and he'd be sad to watch them fight.So he lets Theseus watch.Although sometimes his possessiveness kicks in and he feels the need to do something to remind Theseus that Newt belongs only to him.Percival grabs Newt's hips and rolls over the bed with him so he has Newt on his back to hide him as much as possible from Theseus' hungry gaze.Then he starts to fuck him hard, turning Newt into a whimpering mess beneath him. He bites his neck, knowing the mark will be there in the morning for Theseus to see."So what were you saying?" He asks, managing to sound as calm as he can.Theseus tries to continue the conversation as nothing happened, but his voice is deep and his breathing is not as steady as before."We don't know what they're planning, you must be careful, 'Seus," Newt manages to say, but Percival hits his prostate while he's talking and Theseus' nickname comes out in a very loud moan.It's more than Theseus can handle. Percival watches the moment the aurors' self control breaks."Newt," Theseus gasps and blushes when he looks at him. His little brother doesn't notice too focused on his own pleasure for that.Then, alarmed, rises from the chair."Y-you know what, it's not that important. I-I have to... do something," he blurts out. And whit that he stroms out of the bedroom.Percival knows he's going to the bathroom to jerk himself off while thinking about Newt, but he tries not to think about it.He keeps fucking Newt, loving the way he gasps and moans for him.Theseus can watch all he wants, but he can't never touch.Because Newt is his and his only.
10159646	Why did I let go	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Maria Cadenzavna Eve, Kazanari Tsubasa", "Fandom": "Senki Zesshou Symphogear", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by sssspaghett", "chapters": "3/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-07T00:00:00", "words": "3,577", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Maria Cadenzavna Eve/Kazanari Tsubasa", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Tsubasa's P.O.V:'BANG!'I heared it, I felt it and I saw it. Noise. They suddenly appeared out of every corner these days, running about, being sent by this new enemy that we havn't uncovered yet, but we were close to succeeding in finding out who it was, which was a relief because we hated fighting noise these days, it was like every five minutes more noise would pop out of nowhere and try to cause mischief to us Symphogear users. But something was different about this group of noise, Of course they looked the same, and had the same strength as each other, and had small groups to fight in. but this was the worst it had ever been. Me and Maria got cornered by noise at the top of a building a few minutes ago, So we had no choice but to fight. We transformed and started to attack in synch, Our moves so similar, You'd think we were a reflection of another. But what we weren't expecting is, the noise slowly coming together and reforming to become a giant hideous alca noise. It got us right from behind, And it blew up right in our backs, forming a giant explosion that I protected myself from, using my blade as a shield to protect my body from being caught in the explosion. But then I realised that Maria wasn't with me."MARIA!"She was pushed back by the sudden explosion, having no protection what so ever, and was pushed back near the edge of the building, now mere inches from falling off the edge of the building. She tripped. As fast as I could, I ran over just in time to catch her hand before she could Fall completely. She was dangling off the edge of the building, with me supporting and squeezing her right hand. But it was slipping out of my grasp slowly, and that just only made me squeeze it tighter."Let me go, Tsubasa..." Maria looked up at me and smiled, knowing that I couldn't hold her for long, the noise were slowly walking up behind Me and would soon kill me, but Maria came first, even if she wanted me to stay alive, But she knew I would 100% refuse to that kind of offer at the moment. I couldn't let Maria die. After all we have been through, I would never let her go this easily, she was my best friend after all. I knew, that if I let go, I would immediately regret that I ever even had the thought of letting go, I would blame myself until the breaking point, and just because I let go of her hand."Do you think I'm going to even listen to that kind of talk Maria?"I replied, Tears threatening to fall, but I kept them concealed, knowing that If I cried, it would pain Maria's heart even more then it already was. I fake smiled at her, not wanting to lose hope and courage. My emotions eventually got the best of me after a few seconds, and small, delicate tears fell slowly down my cheeks and off my face and down the edge of the building. Maria just stared at me blankly for a few seconds, probably thinking I was a fool for crying at the worst time. But then the sides of her lips tugged into a small smile, her eyes showing sadness and grief. I couldn't let her risk her life for me again, I shall be the one to save her from the dark this time."you and I both know that you can't keep me up forever..." Maria's eyes started to form tears, indicating that she knew what I was thinking, and that she disagreed with my thoughts. I couldn't. I wouldn't! My eyes showed great determination as I started to slowly pull her up, but with each inch I pulled her up, she started to slip more, and more. I couldn't bare it, I didn't want to think of anything else but saving her, even if it ment my life!"don't talk like that! I'm going to save you, Even if you like it or not! You are my best friend, and probably even more! And for that! You deserve to be saved! I will never let you die Maria!" I cried, looking at Maria's soft, loving, turquoise eyes. She showed thankfulness, and happiness. I want to save her. She shall not die. Not today. I have to much to confess to her, I need to express my feelings. NOW!"Ts-Tsubasa... Thank you... I've wanted to hear something like that for a long time..."Maria cried happily, staring at me happily with great gratitude evident on her face. I felt great courage, confessing to her like this. And she liked it. I shall never let her go, not after this, It's to early to think of her death. I need to think positive and believe I can save her. I shall put my love towards Maria first."I shall never let you go... Even if the world ends right now..."I knew she believed in me now, And I her. We could truely trust each other. Maria.... My true happiness...."I wish I could say you're right but... It's to late..."I could feel her hand slipping quickly from my grasp, I squeezed it tighter, hoping to stop it from slipping. I couldn't react fast enough though."Tsubasa... I know it's a bit late but..... I like you.... With everything I have... Just if we might never see each over again.."She whispered, knowing those words were to me and me only. Her fingers were slipping from my hand. She was falling. No. No. No! I couldn't let this happen! We just confessed our feelings for each other and Maria is al ready knocking at death's door.But that was the moment I regretted everything. Her hand slipped out of mine."MARIA!!!!" I screamed watching her fall down to the bottom, her tears flying as she fell closer and closer to the bottom. My tears came down uncontrollably, I could not stop the massive pain in my heart. Then I suddenly turned around not wanting to watch Maria fall down to the bottom. I looked at the noise who were slowly coming towards me. I glared at them with pure hatred. I looked up at them, my eyes giving a look of 100% future vengeance in store. And that was the first time I ever looked like I was going berserk. I silently whispered 'Ignite Module, Bakken!', Transforming my Ame No Habkiri into it's Ignite Module form. I looked at the noise threateningly, showing pure hatred to each and every one of them, promising death to each one. I could only utter one more sentence. "DIE BASTARDS!" ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Tsubasa's P.O.V:"DIE!!!"After 15 mins of fighting, I was still furiously swinging my sword around, sending it in flames as I slashed the Noise with pure hatred, It was all their fault after all... That she was gone. All I could do in return was kill those packs of noise then let out my revenge on the one who sent the noise to attack us in the first place. I couldn't let her death go to waste, So I had to fight, just for her, because I owed her a lot, For fixing the whole in my heart that appeared when Kanade had died. it was only right. Maria risked her life for me... And just because she liked me back, it was truely sorrowful, but I felt content for a second knowing that she had feelings for me as I did for her. Maria was truely special, So I couldn't just forget about her and let her be sent to the place where Kanade went to when she died. I had to think positive. And believe everything was going to be alright, But deep inside, I knew it wasn't. Maria just died. For me. It kinda reminded me of that one time when we defeated carol....(Flash back) "Tsubasa?" Maria said, happily through the the communicator that she was currently trying to use while fighting her fake double that was trying to get a hold of her emotions while her clone was swinging the gugnir spear at her endlessly, but Maria couldn't couldn't block it for much longer. "Singing with you was so much fun... I hope we can do it again..." She paused, silently crying as she whispered her last sentence. "If we can... I want to sing all night..." Maria said, sounding happy enough, but all Tsubasa could do in response was fall down to her knees, and start to cry, thinking Maria's time was over, and that was the moment the whole Chaffeu exploded, bringing Maria, Shirabe and Kirika with it, But they survived luckily, and Maria lived up to sing again with Tsubasa. But their one night together of singing was still yet to come.(Present) All I could do was become angrier at myself for being so vulnerable to let Maria go at such the wrong time. I was breathing quickly and loudly. Slashing violantly at the noise, while others just kept coming. Maria. Maria. Maria! I couldn't let her death go to waste.... Not now... I could feel my body going berserk against all the noise, rapidly slashing at all of them, not noticing Tachibana, Shirabe and Kirika staring in horror at me from the other side of the building, to outstanded to assist Me against the noise, But what I didn't notice was Yukine silently smirking behind Tachibana, seeming to be looking like she just won the Olympics, It was very strange no doubt, And just looked scary. "TSUBASA-SAN STOP!" Tachibana yelled at me from across the building, concern evedent in Her golden eyes. I could feel the two younger Symphogear users restrain my arms from behind, gripping my hands tightly, as if they let go they would instantly regret it. Tachibana and Yukine just went to finish off the noise, Yukine pulling her crossbows out of her gear, then pulling the trigger, and surprisinglay, it made them instantly disappear, But I didn't see fast enough to to see it. Tachibana instantly stared in aw at Yukine as she walked towards me smirking. "Nice try Senpai, But that's the weakest state I've ever seen you in. Is something the matter?" Yukine asked mockingly, seemingly already knowing what happened, but I didn't realise it. I strongly realised the two smaller Symphogear users grip off me and then stood up on my own and looked down at Yukine darkly. "It's non of your business... Now get out my way..." I replied coldly, turning away and pushing passed Yukine and Tachibana walking towards the elevator after de transforming. I didn't even notice The triumphant look on Yukine's face when I got on the elevator. I needed to see if Maria's remains were at the bottom. Or if she was well and whole. I didn't know, But I was about to find out.I got out the front door and looked around, there had been no signs of a crash, or dint in the pavement, And Maria wasn't anywhere to be seen, and this was directly where Maria was going to crash accept there was no sign that anyone had even layed a footstep on it. But I couldn't see her anywhere.Wait... If Maria isn't here.... Then where is she?... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- No ones P.O.V XD:"No traces of Maria Cadenzavna Eve were found anywhere through out the scene of the crime or anywhere else in the city." Fujitaka exclaimed, turning his chair around to face Genjuro and the five Symphogear users standing behind their commander, his head looking down in apology."No Security cameras around the city have picked up anything either, It's strange, it's as if something or someone has perposely hacked into the city's files and taken out all evidence that the scene actually happened. I'm so sorry Commander, Girls." Tomosato stood up and bowed in apology, Genjuro frowning and his arms crossed in responce to their gestures. "search the whole country if you must, We can't let the united nations find out about her disappearance other wise we could be in big trouble. Search more thoroughly, do what you must to find Maria-San!" Shouted Genjuro at the two."Yes commander!" They yelled back in unison, immediately turning back to their laptops to do more research on the topic at hand.Shirabe squeezed Kirika's hand lightly, turning to find Kirika's concerned, empty face, Shirabe's saddest moments was when Kirika was like this, afraid, scared and worried. "what do you think happened to Maria, Kiri?" Shirabe asked quietly, her breath loud and her voice scared. "I don't know, Desu." Kirika's answer was short but meaningful, she truely didn't know where the pink haired idol had gone, but she squeezed back Shirabe's hand just as affectionatly."It will be ok." Shirabe smiled slightly, patting Kirika's head in slight reassurence."Well I'm sure she can handle herself, if you ask me." Chris exclaimed, trying hard not to let a small bit of concern to weave into her sentence, but honestly failing. "But... if she did crash, wouldn't her Symphogear be shattered or cracked?" Hibiki asked, trying hard not to stay too sad for her own likes. "Symphogears wouldn't shatter that easily right?" Miku added, popping up behind Hibiki and pointing out that Chris's face had the look of envy to Miku, Chris just waving her off casually in a furious blush. "Well it wouldn't matter if it did crack, because she is strong enough to defend herself right?." Chris pointed out, not seeming moved by all their complaints and questions."Of course not." Everyone turned to see Tsubasa leaning against the wall behind them, her right leg leaning against the wall, her arms crossed and her face all stoic and serious but it was a face that couldn't be read easily, only the smartest people would recognise it as Tsubasa's depressed mode, And Hibiki easily saw right through Tsubasa's stern, cold mask, there was sadness and grief, that hadn't been there since....'Kanade....' Hibiki thought sadly, reminded by the thought that Kanade was dead. She never knew much about Kanade, but that wasn't enough to not call her one of her best friends, and just for saving her life was much more than enough of a thank you to Hibiki's golden personality."Tsubasa, glad that you're here. Are you sure you haven't the slightest detail of where Maria-San has gone?'' Genjuro took the risk of mentioning Maria to Tsubasa at a time like this.Tsubasa banged her fist against the wall, "I wish I did, I would do anything to know what has happened, I'd give anything to know where she is." Tsubasa said sternly and angrily, brushing off the sad Elfnein behind Genjuro and the hot tears streaming down her cheeks.Chris snickered. "How weak, just gonna do nothin' over this and just sulk all day?, how weak can a person get." Hibiki, Kirika and Shirabe stared back at Chris in horror, Genjuro wide eyed and Elfnein's face a copy and paste of the other three girls.Tsubasa's eyes covered by her bangs, she stalked slowly up to Chris, her heels clicking against the metal floor as she walked briskly over to Chris and grabbed her by the collar, not realising that what Chris said was only a joke."You have no Idea what you are infering to, right now, Yukine." Tsubasa looked at Chris coldly, her eyes glaring daggers into Chris's soul.Chris just grinned. "see! thats more like it!" Tsubasa's patience running thin, her grip tightening on Chris's collar."Now calm down girls." Genjuro pulled the two apart, holding Tsubasa back from a well thought through fight in mind. "I don't want to have to take drastic measures here, we have a important mission to complete right now so I suggest you stand down for now." Genjuro warned, glaring at both of the girls.After a few moments of silence, Tsubasa spoke up. "I'm leaving." She explained quickly before turning her body around and walking quickly to the metal automatic doors in front of her.Chris went to far, and she knew it, she just didn't want to admit it.Genjuro turned to Chris and glared at her in dissapointment. "Not my fault." is all Chris admitted before turning around to cross her arms in a Tsundere sought of fashion.Miku looked dissapointed in Chris and shook her head dissaprovingly. Chris hooked on to this immediately and looked down in a regretful stare, looking down straight at the floor as if it had wronged her somehow. "Hibiki-Kun?" Genjuro turned to Hibiki, exchanging some knowing glances with her before Hibiki nodded and ran off into the direction where Tsubasa angrily stormed off from.Kirika held Shirabe close to her, concerned, Shirabe just staring at the place where Hibiki was moments ago.***********************************************************************************************Tsubasa stormed down the hall and turned a few corners to reach the exit to the elevator, but before she could even lay her finger onto the up button on the elevator, she was sure she heared someone call her name from behind so she tilted her head to the side annoyingly and examined the face of the girl running up to her, realising it was non other than Hibiki, but it didn't change her mind about leaving and she just pressed the button, the elevator spreading it's doors before her."W-Wait! Tsubasa-Chan!" Hibiki called out to the Blue headed idol, Tsubasa not turning her head to look at her comrade as she was too focused on leaving this god damn facility, because if S.O.N.G couldn't find Maria, then she would, even if it meant doing it alone, she didnt care.She was about to walk into the elevator before her wrist was gripped by Hibiki's hand and that made Tsubasa's full attention be put on Hibiki, but she still didn't turn her head to face the small girl."Let me go Tachibana." Tsubasa demanded coldly, trying to pry her wrist out of Hibiki's strong grip but effortlessly failing to do so."Tsubasa-Chan!" I can't let you go off to find Maria-San on your own!" Hibiki stomped her foot, earning a few moments of silence before she spoke up again."Please! We all need you!" Hibiki shouted, her facial features displaying great determination but Tsubasa still not facing her to see it."I said let me go Tachibana." Tsubasa demanded angrily, her voice dripping with venom, it would have even made Chris scared."I won't! Not when I need to speak to you!" Hibiki yelled, determined to make Tsubasa listen to her.Suddenly, Tsubasa stopped struggling, she just stood there for few moments before shoving her hand out of Hibiki's grip and quickly turning sround to face the short girl. "Make it quick. I have things to do." She didn't, She just wanted to get away from everyone without having to shed her tears in front of them and look like a fool.Hibiki took a deep breath, her face confident and determined as she gathered up all the courage she had and let out her words out of her mouth."you aren't alone, we are here for you, big or small the problem may be, we Symphogear users will be here to support each other if anything happens! And that time is now, so stop trying to pretend it's nothing when you clearly are upset! So Please! Just let us help you and we will all get through this together! I promise! I don't want to see an other friend hurt over the bad things that we've been through, but no matter what problem we have faced so far, we actually had the determination to help each other, and not be afraid to tell each other the little problems we have faced during our wonderful times together! So please! don't let this incident tear up apart! We can do this together if you just let us help you!" Hibiki said, meaningfully, with all her heart put into each and every single word.Tsubasa stared at her wide eyed for a few moments."..." Tsubasa stayed silent for about a minute or two before Hibiki spoke up again."Please... Tsubasa-Chan... let us help you..." Hibiki said.Suddenly, Hibiki turned to see Chris, Miku, Kirika and Shirabe walking slowly towards them, Kirika running up to both of them and hugging Tsubasa lightly."We will help find Maria, desu!" Kirika grinned up at the blue haired girl."Kiri-Chan, Don't I get a hug to?" Shirabe asked from behind Hibiki, pouting slightly."desu!" Kirika jumped onto Shirabe and hugged her tightly, making Shirabe smile lightly and blush a bit."Ya know, I had this talk with Miku over here," Chris pointed to the smiling Miku behind her casually. "And I wouldn't actually mind going to look for the pink haired girl anyways, I'm chill with anything for now." Chris blushed furiously, Tsubasa staring at her in surprise."And of course I'll help to!" replied Elfnein, appearing out from behind Miku and walking up to Tsubasa and bowing slightly before smiling warmly up at Tsubasa.they all grinned happily, Miku joining in on the group hug they were giving Tsubasa.Tsubasa smiled warmly."Thank you everyone."
10100126	ache	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Jemma Simmons, Skye \| Daisy Johnson, Framework Leo Fitz, Framework Phil Coulson, Framework Melinda May, Framework Alphonso \"Mack\" Mackenzie", "Fandom": "Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by agentcalliope", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00", "words": "1,713", "Additional Tags": "Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Speculation, MY GIRLS ALREADY BEAR SO MUCH WEIGHT, HOW MORE CAN THEY POSSIBLY CARRY, Canon Compliant, as of 4x15", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons, Jemma Simmons & Skye \| Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons & Skye \| Daisy Johnson, Jemma Simmons & Agents of SHIELD Team", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/M, Gen", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	i.It aches—the wound on her leg aches. Except she knows that there’s nothing there, on her skin, here in the Framework. She takes off her clothes and sits on the floor of the shower. She sits there, fingers pruning and water running cold, and she stares at her leg. The mark of the knife doesn’t exist, at least not in this world. But the cut is deep, and her thoughts cut deep. She inhales and exhales and inhales and exhales and soon the water is too much and it’s too much to swim towards the surface. (She has to remind herself that she’s not at the bottom of the sea, not on another planet, but in another reality. And her injuries are still real. The wound on her leg from the Fitz but not Fitz is definitely real. The pain remains even though the cut doesn’t. And Jemma knows that it’s a wound like the others; those that become scars both outside and in.Because she wakes up with a start every morning, gasping for air with the impression of his hands on her throat. And when she wakes up back in reality the wound on her leg will throb and when she looks it’ll be there.) Daisy rushes in and meets her on the floor.“Jemma, Jemma are you okay?” She wraps her arms around Jemma and holds her close, holds her tight. “Where does it hurt?” Everywhere. They stay like that for a while, the water rushing over the both of them, Jemma clutching Daisy and Daisy clutching her back.“We’re gonna save him,” Daisy whispers, stroking Jemma’s hair. “We’re gonna save everyone.”(But a part of Jemma thinks she left pieces of herself at the bottom of sea, and that it’s too late to save her.) ii.It aches— listening to Coulson as he spews words of hate. Daisy tenses besides her, her hands becoming fists, and she narrows her eyes. “Let’s go, Jem,” Daisy leans over to whisper into Jemma’s ear, eyes locked on Coulson. “I want to leave.”Jemma’s about to respond when Coulson catches sight of them, and smiles.They both freeze. “Hey girls! Isn’t it such a beautiful Saturday?”“... Yes. It is.” Jemma manages to say as Coulson reaches over to hand them two of his brochures, each decorated with the slogan: Inhuman Intolerable, report suspicious activity. If Jemma feels queasy at the notion, holding this vile piece of paper in her hands, she can’t imagine how Daisy feels. And Daisy, as always, tries to deflect with humor.“Aw, man!” She laughs and slaps Coulson’s arm lightly. “I thought those brochures were gonna be advertising a Caribbean cruise!”Coulson’s smile falls, and Jemma senses that it’s time to leave.“Inhumans are a plague on humanity!” Coulson shouts at them, drawing in stares from people passing by. “This is no joke! How dare you joke about something as serious as a disease corrupting our world?” She pulls Daisy away, and they both don’t utter a sound until they’re back in their seedy motel room, and Daisy starts to cry.“It’s my worst nightmare,” Daisy laments. “It’s changing all over again.”(Jemma rubs Daisy’s back, and doesn’t add that the worst is yet to come.) iii.It aches— May being the very thing she despises. Daisy’s asleep when Jemma begins to ruffle through the brochure, and that’s when she sees it. Melinda May, Director of Hydra, the brochure says, and Jemma’s surprised that it’s taken them this long to find out.She wonders if she should shake Daisy awake-- shake Daisy awake from whatever dream she’s having and show her another nightmare.Jemma decides it can wait until morning. “Well, there was a time we thought she was Hydra. Guess it’s true now,” Daisy says, after a long silence, crumpling the brochure in her hand and throwing it to the ground.God, Jemma had forgotten about that. How could she not? So much has happened, so much has changed, that she has forgotten that there was a time when even May couldn’t be trusted.Daisy leans back in her chair and sighs, running her fingers through her long hair.“We’ll deal with May later. We gonna do Fitz today?”“Let’s go.” iv.It aches— Fitz not being Fitz. When she and Daisy find him there’s another woman on his arm, and she looks like she fits there. They walk down the street towards the café where Daisy and Jemma sit and as they come closer, Jemma’s heart begins to pound and her eyes narrow. The woman laughs at something Fitz says.“Oh, Leo!” she croons, stroking his arm. “You’re hilarious!”Fitz gives her a dazzling smile, and doesn’t even look twice at Jemma and Daisy.Daisy frowns.Jemma seethes.“Should we talk to them?” Daisy speaks in a low voice, opening her menu and pretending to mull over the choices.“No.” Jemma replies. “I don’t want to talk to them at all.” Daisy lets it go.And when they’ve gone, when Daisy grips her arm and softens her gaze, and whispers I’m sorry,Jemma’s not sorry at all.She’s angry. (Angry and seething and jealous that he remembers nothing and she remembers everything.) v.It aches— watching Mack and the little girl play. They had found Mack at the mechanic shop, the girl holding his hand, and followed the two as they got on their bikes and rode to the the park.“Shit.” Daisy says, watching Mack chase the little girl around.“Shit.” Jemma agrees, as the girl taps Mack lightly and he falls dramatically, pretending to be hurt but laughing as he goes down to the ground.“Maybe… maybe she’s just a kid he’s babysitting?” Daisy whispers, as Mack envelops the girl with his eyes and his smile and his love into a fierce, adoring hug.Jemma whispers back. Of course it isn’t. (Because this is what was supposed to be hard, finding their people and getting them out. Coulson hates Inhumans, May’s the bloody director of Hydra, and Fitz remembers nothing. The easy part is that’s not who Coulson and May and Fitz are supposed to be. But Mack; Mack has a kid. He has a good, happy life full of love and contentment. And Jemma and Daisy are going to have to rip him away from his little girl.And they’re going to have to live with that. iv.The jealousy aches, but so does knowing that in a world where she doesn’t exist, Fitz is happy.In a world where she doesn’t exist, in a world where he remembers nothing, Fitz doesn’t have that hardness in his eyes that’s been there ever since she fell from the sky, since she pulled him up from the bottom of the sea, since she left him and crushed him and made him bear her weight.(I could never hurt you, Jemma. LMD Fitz said to her.But I always hurt you, Jemma realizes.) “What do you mean?” Daisy demands, rushing towards her and taking her hands in hers.“Daisy--”“Are you kidding me? You wonder if he’s happier without you? You weren’t there when he was struggling to speak, struggling to move on. I was. I saw. He fell apart without you. You weren’t there when he was tearing the world apart trying to find you for six. Fucking. Months. I was. I saw. You think he’s happier without you? You can’t possibly imagine his--”“What about me?” Jemma sobs, ripping her hands away and burying her face in them. “What about me, what about me, what about me?” (The wound in her leg pulses, the cut in her cheek throbs, and the hole in her heart expands.) “I’m sorry,” Daisy utters. “I know what it was like for him, because I was there. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you.”Jemma wraps her arms around Daisy and Daisy embraces her back. “Any world that has Fitz and Simmons, but not Fitzsimmons,” Daisy whispers, “Isn’t a world at all.” iii.May being the very thing she despises aches, especially when she’s so good at it. The crowd cheers and applauds, little children waving flags and adults grinning and murmuring to each other. Daisy and Jemma exchange glances before both looking back atMay, with her fist in the air.“She’s a great director.”“I’m not surprised.”“CALVARY! CALVARY! CALVARY! CALVARY!” People chant, their fists also rising in the air, voices becoming muddled until it sounds like one great voice chanting a name that, in their world, Melinda May loathes. (From on top of the platform, May smiles.) ii.Coulson spewing words of hate aches, but not as much when he’s not.They’re in the library when they find him, surrounded by children on all sides, peering through his glasses at the book he holds in his hands.“Can you imagine?” Coulson reads, his voice trailing upwards at the end of the questions and all the children lean in closer to hear him.“A world without pain? Without suffering? What a truly beautiful world that would be.”(But would that even be a world at all?)“Mr. Coulson?” A little boy raises his hand.“Yes, Tommy?” Coulson smiles. “Do you have a question?”“I’m scared. About the… Inhumans. What if the Calvary can’t stop them?”“It’s okay to be scared, Tommy.” Coulson reassures him, touching his cheek and then turning to look at all the other children.“Everything will be okay as long as we work hard and we work together. The future will be bright. You’ll see. (In this world, Coulson still manages to make anyone feel better.) i.It aches when it’s Daisy that finally breaks. “It’s all too much!” Daisy screams, throwing her hands in the air. “How are we supposed to figure this all out? We have to tell them that the world they’re living in isn’t real? How the fuck are we supposed to do that?”She kicks a chair over and then crashes onto the bed.Jemma doesn’t even flinch.“Why can’t it be easy?” Daisy cries, clutching her head in her hands. “Because,” Jemma says. “When has it ever been?” (They both have so much to bear, but they’re just thankful that they don’t have to bear it alone.)
10181378	The Gift of a Brother	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Ken Hutchinson, David Starsky", "Fandom": "Starsky & Hutch", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Minnie K (SarahProblem)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "7,626", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Ken Hutchinson & David Starsky", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The Gift of a Brother by Minnie K. It was dark outside, dark with the hour of evening and the heavy weather blown in from over the ocean. Heavy and slow for December, the clouds looked as if they had decided to come and spend the winter, keeping the city enclosed in seemingly endless twilight. And it was cold outside, not like the true bone-biting chill that Kenneth Hutchinson remembered from his younger days. But it was cold enough to make the falling sleet glint in the street lights for that one-millionth of a second each drop was 'almost' snow. Hutch's apartment was like the outside, dark, cold, enclosed and empty, but definitely drier. I miss the snow, Hutch mused, but it's never the same once you grow up. It's never as sweet... He leaned at the windowsill and watched the emptiness outside his second floor window, feeling as if he were the only person left in the world. There was some traffic, but no one on foot, and somehow the metal of the cars canceled out whatever humanity they contained. He wanted to be alone right now. He needed it. And he was glad Starsky wasn't here. Hutch was in a bad mood and he knew it, but knowing it and being able to do anything about it were two different things for him. There were only two days until Christmas now, he had done what he could to minimize the damage his gloom could do. Tonight was the night of Metro's combined Christmas/ Hanukkah and whatever-else-you-want-to-call-it party. Hutch was giving everyone else the only gift he could manage at the moment, his absence. He had never been a Christmas person. His parents had not believed in coddling their children with fantasies of Santa Claus or elves or brotherly love. There had only been days of parties, strangers and their social duty. Days alone in his or his sister's room, with toys they hadn't wanted and no one to play with but each other had been the normal way they had spent their Christmas hours. It was the only time of year he had been overwhelmed with joy to go back to school. Hutch had never seen the magic of the season that Starsky saw. He knew only too well that the joy and love that everyone touted until New Years would disappear with the first second of the first day of the year. It just seemed to be an empty bubble for him. A lie that grated more and more as he had gotten older. Last year is not going to happen again, Hutch pledged to himself. I've got to get my head on straight. It's not anyone else's fault that I'm such a Scrooge. The least I can do is stay out of Starsky's way. Last year he had been in another bad mood. He had felt its slow creep into his system, but had ignored his own warning signals, trying to stay out of his partner's way. Going to last year's party had been a bad idea. Starsky had been in full bloom for the evening, reveling in the song and dance, enlivening the evening with his bad jokes, stupid pranks and joy in the fellowship of the season. Starsky could animate even the most depressing party, Christmas, Hanukkah or otherwise this time of year, and Hutch could drag it down almost as fast. All through the evening Hutch had sat by himself in a corner. Starsky touched base with him once in awhile, trying to rouse him, but Hutch had refused to act jolly when he didn't feel like it. He had been a jerk, drinking too much and watching his own foul mood expand to include his own little corner of the world, until everyone knew well enough to leave him alone. Thankfully, Starsky had taken him home before he had ruined the party for everyone. Everyone that is but Dave Starsky. Hutch had felt horrible the next day, not only because of his own hangover, but for wrecking the party for his partner. Starsky had chosen to stay with him, rather than return to the ongoing festivities. I always drag him down this time of year, Hutch thought with a pang. One day I'll drag him under, and he'll lose whatever he needs from this season. This year they had again been scheduled off-shift during the party and Hutch had been disappointed. Most years, like this one, they both volunteered to work the Christmas day-shift, so that two married men could spend time with their families. Dobey was a scrupulously fair man, and when doing the schedules he gave the single men the same holiday considerations he gave the rest. But the Captain never stopped them from trading, usually for an extra day off at New Years. Neither he nor Starsky would make a big deal of it. Like Starsky said, once the presents were opened on Christmas morning, what else was there to do? Hutch had dearly wanted to trade shifts for tonight's party too, but he couldn't. If he did, Starsky would trade with someone else to stay with him, and that wasn't fair. But even at work it had been hard to keep his mood from taking over and drowning him in depression. When the gift exchange drawing had come around to their squadroom, there had been a flurry of excitement and goodwill that Hutch hadn't felt. Hutch had decided to skip the whole thing this year, and had been slightly angry to find that Starsky had included his name in the pot. By the time he had found this out, Minnie had already made the rounds of the other departments. It was a secret drawing, and Starsky had seemed pleased with the name he had drawn. Hutch's heart had fallen, thinking Starsky had gotten his name this time. Hutch knew that Starsky would invariably get him something for Christmas, and Hutch had not yet had the energy to deal with that, let alone another gift he would feel indebted for. Hutch had closed his eyes and drawn a name, not really caring who it was. It had been a pleasant shock to find he had drawn his own name. He hadn't even dared to hope for that to happen. Starsky had been all over him to get a peek at the name, and after almost losing the paper to his quick-handed friend, Hutch had actually put the paper in his mouth, chewed and swallowed it in front of his surprised partner, Minnie the gift-exchange elf and the rest of the laughing squadroom. 'Better watch out, Hutch!' One of the laughing voices had warned. 'If he thinks it's got his name on it, he'll go down after it!' And the laughter had gotten even louder, at Starsky's reddened face and a embarrassed grin at the teasing. But to Hutch it had been a reprieve. The rest had been hard, but necessary. 'Sorry Starsk, but I've got a date that night.' Starsky had begged him to bring her along, they would make it a foursome, but Hutch had held his ground. No party. Starsky had prodded and pried, but had not been able to get a name out of him. 'It's just a date, Starsk,' he had replied casually. 'No use bowling her over with a roomful of happy cops. Our group would scare anybody off. It's just not a good night for company.' Hutch felt he had worked it out rather well, being able to get out of the party and letting Starsky enjoy it at the same time. And it was just a white lie, not meant to hurt. But he needed an evening away from everyone's enthusiasm. Tonight, as soon as their shift was over, Hutch had headed home alone despite Starsky's continued protest. He had parked the car down the block and had made sure it was hidden from casual view. He had sat alone in his dark apartment, eaten his sketchy dinner and had settle down to the sofa and a record. When the phone rang at six-thirty, a half hour before party time, Hutch had listened to its ring blend into his Mozart. He knew it was Starsky and he didn't answer it. At a few minutes past seven, a red Torino, white stripe gray in the twilight, had passed the building quietly, checking for signs of life. Hutch had stood back in the shadows and watched it drive away. And there he had stayed for a few minutes, to watch the sleet become 'almost' snow. Have a good time, Starsk, Hutch thought with a slight smile. You can tell me all about the party and your date tomorrow. I promise I'll listen. Hutch walked over to the lamp, switching it on now that the coast was clear. He walked over to the fridge and snagged a beer, then looked through his albums. He was willing to make a small attempt at the season. No Christmas songs. Isn't that a surprise? Hutch sighed and left the Mozart on, looking toward the package that had sat there for several weeks now, waiting for the right time to open it. He had been ignoring it, and even thought about putting it away in a closet somewhere, unopened and forgotten. But he knew he couldn't do it. It had to be opened and gone through, no matter how much it hurt. Grandfather's package. Grandfather's life. Time to deal with it, Kenneth. Hutch sat down at the sofa and picked up the package, weighing it's memories in his hands. How much did a childhood weigh? How much for the love of a grandfather? Whatever it was, it wasn't much. He studied the writing on the outside, his own name written by his mother. It didn't mean anything to him. Hutch tore open the mail wrapping to reveal a sturdy cardboard box, a little larger than a shoebox, but much stronger. He knew that inside were some of his best memories, but they scared him. Whatever it was that was inside, it had waited for him since his mother had called a month ago. * Hutch opened the door to his apartment, sweaty and just a little out of breath from his early Sunday run. It was a gloriously cool day, and few people had been up and in his way this morning. He had made good time. He took a few steps in and grabbed the towel from the back of the couch, eyeing the large lump that had invaded his apartment yet again. "About time you were up, lazy," Hutch laughed, wiping his face and neck and tossing the towel in his partner's direction. "You're going to get old and fat and nobody will love you." Starsky, sitting in a rumpled t-shirt and boxer shorts, sporting a morning's growth of beard, a mass of flattened curls and sleep bleary eyes sat at Hutch's table. He didn't even bother to dodge the towel, allowing it to miss on its own. "It's Sunday mornin', Hutch," he grumbled. "The least you can do is go to church so's I can go back to sleep for a few hours." "Sure, soon as you start going to temple," Hutch replied with a snort. "But if I did that," Starsky answered with an exaggerated sniff, a high-pitched quiver in his voice, "when would we see each other?" "Ass," Hutch replied with a grin. His attention was drawn to Starsky's breakfast and the grin disappeared. "What are you eating?" "Captain Crunch," Starsky replied around a yawn, spooning a brown and orange mass into his mouth. "Starsky, I didn't buy that crap." "It's mine." Starsky replied around a mouthful. "I snuck it in the other day. Hid it behind the raw squid flakes under the sink." He yawned. "Or was it some kinda dried ameba sperm? I can never tell the difference." "But I'm out of milk," Hutch said, ignoring his friend's early morning lunacy. "What did you put in with it?" Mouth full with another orange and brown mass, Starsky reached an empty spoon out and tapped the orange juice carton. "'At's what the juice is for." Hutch was still staring in shock when the phone rang. "Hutchinson." "Kenneth, darling, I'm so glad you are home," his mother began, as if in the middle of a conversation. "Your father and I are simply swamped here, and I don't want to miss our brunch appointment. I'm sending you the last box of your things. Do you still live at that... address?" Her voice included her distaste of his current residence. One short visit, when his parents had flown in to visit 'friends' and had found a minute for their son, they had insisted on visiting with him at their hotel. They'd never even been in the apartment, let alone in the area. No telling what their 'friends' had told them of this part of town. "Hello, Mother, " he replied sarcastically. "I'm fine, and how are you?" He knew she probably didn't care, but she at least could have asked. "What box are we talking about?" "Why your childhood things, dear," she answered, sounding incredulous that he hadn't read her mind. "Your father and I are cleaning the trash out of the attic, your father has the most wonderful idea for redoing it, and we found a box of your things that your grandfather had." She sniffed, offering her opinion as to its value. "It's just that old fool's pictures and papers he'd save as mementos or something, and some of your old things I found in a box. We're sending them to you, as your sister surely isn't interested." "That 'old fool', Mother, was your father and my grandfather," Hutch responded in a tight voice, struggling to stay polite, "I would think that you might want to keep something of his for yourself." Why try? he thought, suddenly tired. If it doesn't have a price tag attached, she'll just toss it out. Hutch knew that there was precious little in his parent's lives to show the existence of any of their family. The little that Hutch had salvaged of his early years lay in a small cardboard box in his closet. He had been lucky to take the important things with him when he had moved out. Everything else had been 'remodeled' into the nearest trash container. "Really, Kenneth," she replied in a bored voice, "your grandfather could have done much better than he did, but he was just too stubborn to listen. As it was, his estate amounted to very little other than the value of the farmland and the surrounding woods. Your father managed to turn it around rather nicely after his death, I might add." "Yes," Hutch replied sarcastically, "and such a nice golf course and condominium grouping, Mother. Father really preserved the natural beauty of the area. I'm surprised that the forest service didn't give him an award for the most woodland destroyed." "Kenneth, really! This is an old conversation that I do not wish to continue at the moment. Do you want the box or not?" Hutch sighed, rubbing his sudden headache. "Yes, Mother. I would appreciate the package. Thank you." "Oh, by the way, your father and I are closing up the house and we are wintering with some friends in Paris this year. I assume you have other arrangements for the holidays?" As in 'you didn't plan on coming here did you?' Hutch knew very well what she meant. "Starsky and I don't have any vacation time this year, Mother," Hutch replied. "We're just going to work through the month. I'll be fine." "Oh, yes," she said, a bit of hesitation and exasperation in her voice. "You and Sergeant Starsky are still working together? Really, dear, I know he amuses you but I would have thought you would have tired of..." Hutch broke her off quickly. "Yes, Mother, Starsky's right here. Say 'Hi' Starsk." Hutch held the phone up toward his partner, rubbing his face, trying to disperse his budding anger. He knew his mother. If she knew Starsky was there, she would tone down her remarks about him. And if she got started lecturing about her son's friendship with 'him' again, he'd be hard pressed not to slam down the phone. "Hello, Mrs. Hutchinson," Starsky replied loudly, drowsy and illegible around a mouthful of Captain Crunch and orange juice. "How ya doin'?" "Oh, Kenneth, really!" his mother replied in exasperation as soon as Hutch replaced the phone at his ear. "Every time I call he is there. A person would think that he was living off of you. I'm sure he's a nice man, but hardly presentable. Can't you cultivate a better class of..." "Sorry, Mother," Hutch cut in again. "We've got to leave. Work you know. Was there anything else?" He hoped there wasn't, he wasn't in the mood to play her games today. "No," she answered curtly. "But we will talk later, dear. Your father knows some important people in your area..." "Bye, Mother." "Goodbye, Kenneth." Her words were clipped and formal, and spoke of unfinished business. Hutch waited until he heard the dial tone before slamming the phone down. It was childish, but it made him feel better. "Shame on you," Starsky said with a knowing look, getting up to place his bowl in the sink. "Lyin' to your Mommy like that, tellin' her we have to work. A person would think you didn't want to talk to the lady." Hutch sighed, and ignored his partner. Starsky knew as well as he did what the score was. He briefly wondered what he would find in his grandfather's things. The thought made him nervous, like the knowledge of pain to come. Too early to worry about it now. Forget it. Time for a shower. "Hey, Starsk," Hutch said, pausing in the bathroom doorway, "do you think your mother would adopt an older child? A tall, blond one with his own paycheck?" "Depends." Starsky yawned and started going through Hutch's dresser drawers, digging out his extra clothes. "I can talk Ma into anything, if it's worth my while. But if you're gonna be my brother, you have to sign a blood oath stating that I get to be the boss and you have to do what I say or I get to knock you around." "Hey!" Hutch called back through the bathroom door. "Why do you get to be the boss? And who said you could knock me around?" "I did, 'cause I'm older than you," Starsky replied, apparently standing right outside the bathroom door. "Big brothers always get to be the boss. We get to knock everyone around. Just ask Nicky." "Come on, Starsky," Hutch protested. "You're not that much older. Just a few months. Besides, I'm taller than you are." "Sorry," Starsky answered solemnly. "It's a hard and fast rule. Can't be changed. You're pegged for a little brother in this relationship." "What about Nicky?" Hutch asked, shouting over the shower spray. "I'm older than he is. Do I get to be his boss?" "Sure," Starsky shouted back. "That's the way it works. Nicky would be little brother for both of us and we could both boss him around." "What if I just feel like knocking him around a little?" Hutch asked. "What do the rules say about that?" "Hutch, if Ma adopted you, and you knocked Nicky around then I'd high-tail it to the hills," Starsky replied. "Ma would have a free license to whomp your ass, and she'd do it too. She may be small, but she could take you on in a New York minute. No way am I gettin' in on that. You'd be on your own, pal." "Damn!" Hutch called to him with a laugh. "Then I'd better think this over some more, Starsky. You just took all the fun out of it." "Really. How do you think Nicky survived me?" * The box had arrived a few days later and Hutch had set it on the coffee table and had proceeded to ignore it. As had Starsky. He had been grateful to have been able to postpone the inevitable, and Starsky had helped him with that by pushing it aside when he needed to, but never commenting on it. But tonight was different. Tonight was the evening of December 22nd. December 22nd. The evening grandfather died. The Christmas I didn't get my letter. Hutch sighed and used his pen-knife to cut the securing tape. He set the knife aside and opened the lid of the box, not knowing what he would find and afraid it would be too much, or too little. The first thing he saw was the happy face of a small blond boy, perched on the lap of an older man. Though there were decades between them, and the boy all of six years old, you could see the budding resemblance. Eyes, nose and cheekbones spoke of a single line of decent, and even in the black and white picture you could tell that the coloring was the same. Definitely family, Hutch thought with a smile. Grandfather and I always were two of a kind. Even then. Glancing at the full head of hair on the old man, Hutch ran a hand through his own thinning hairline. Except for a few things. Hutch grinned at his own vanity. Some things he would continue to fight until the cause was lost. Or a cure was found. Hutch sighed and studied the old man's face. This wasn't the way he remembered him. His memories of the man were heavily tinged with a small boy's love for the only person he had felt had loved him back. The snapshot hadn't captured the strength, dignity and honor of the man Hutch had remembered. Nor his love of nature that he had tried to instill in his grandchildren. Seeing him through the eyes of an adult was harder than Hutch had imagined it would be. He laid the picture down and picked up the next item in the box. It was a stack of letters, tied with a string. Hutch opened the first one, and glanced at the greeting, date and the signature, feeling a shock at the realization that he was holding the letters his grandmother and grandfather had written to each other before their marriage. He quickly refolded the letter and tied the string again, laying the letters aside with the photograph. Really, Mother, Hutch mused, feeling the familiar frustration. Didn't you even care that these were your parent's letters? That your father had never re-married after his wife's early death? That he raised you by himself because he couldn't bring himself to let her go and find another love? Didn't you keep anything of theirs to remember them by? Or was this part of the 'trash' you found in the attic? Hutch shut out the thoughts, knowing they led nowhere. He knew all the answers by heart now. In the family he had been born into, each person had a set and assigned roll in the Influential Couple's life. The family was well connected and affluent. The Husband and head of the household was cold, efficient and relentless in business matters. He tended the financial and legal affairs of the growing empire while leaving the children and home to the Beautiful Wife. Hutch's mother had filled the roll well, hiding successfully her simple background and education. She had produced a son and a daughter, content that that obligation had been fulfilled and had arranged for their care and education. She had instilled herself deeply into polite society while leaving her children in well-paid hands. The daughter was to grow up beautiful and well educated. She was to be the best dressed and most envied girl in her assorted primary and high schools, and she would earn a college degree if she so desired. Then she was to marry well and bring another family into the Hutchinson estates. In that roll his sister had found great success and Hutch felt confident that his sister lived her life with a measure of happiness. He had always wished her well, but had not felt close to her. The son was to grow up to be an athlete and a scholar. He would graduate with honors, finish college with a degree of his parent's choosing and would join his father to build up the Hutchinson name and family. He would marry his own Beautiful Wife and allow her to run the family while he worked at his father's bidding. They would all be perfect. It was their lot in life. But the Influential Couple hadn't planned on the Beautiful Wife's father. The older man insisted on being a part of his grandchildren's lives. A deal had been struck. He would get his grandchildren for their young summers, while he stayed in his place on the farm for the rest of the year. The man was not usually intrusive, but had loved his grandchildren for who they were, not for who they were supposed to be. He had influenced his grandson in more ways than they would ever know. The grandson had used the older man as a base to build his own life on, a different role model than his father. The grandfather had been a man who represented the morals and standards the grandson had felt in kinship with. He had been a loving, tolerant and patient person, with no room for the bigotry and biases of society and little patience for those who caused others harm. In later years, the grandfather's influence had been routinely blamed for the son's rebellion as a man, and for his 'low class' choice of career and friends. Hutch had always defended his grandfather's memory. Kenneth Hutchinson spoke his own mind, and insisted on taking the blame for his own choices, just as he insisted on claiming the various rewards of those same unpopular decisions. Not bad, Grandfather, Hutch thought with a slight smile. With a scant ten years of summer vacations, you managed to make quite an impression on everyone. Hutch smiled, remembering the golden summers at his grandfather's farm. The sterile winters of school, caretakers, and holiday parties where he and his sister were paraded in front of strangers before eating lonely dinners in their rooms were banished into the background in the long, warm summers. The earth and the woods, the animals and the sunshine had all been more real to little Kenneth than anything else in his life. Hutch picked up another group of old envelopes, studying the childish writing on the outside, smiling as he recognized his own writing. His Christmas letters to his grandfather, who insisted that he couldn't leave his animals alone to visit them, but who Hutch suspected had never been invited to come, had been the only good thing he had to look forward to in the bleak and lonely month of December. You fought a losing battle, Grandfather. Hutch thought sadly. You wanted Santa Claus, Kris Kringle, the North Pole and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer for us. Instead we were given empty social parties and impersonal gifts, trained to be the perfect complement to Mother's tree at her numerous holiday festivities. But thank you for the fight, old man. For many years, the letters to his grandfather had been his substitute for writing to Santa Claus. While the other children were all excited about writing for presents, Kenneth had written long letters to his grandfather. The boy had always waited on pins and needles until he had gotten his Christmas letter back. But one year, at the age of ten, no letter had come. His grandfather had been found dead a few days before Christmas. Found in his bed by a neighbor, having died sometime on the night of the 22nd of December. The gentleman had been buried on the 28th, and Hutch had not been taken to the funeral, nor had he seen the farm again until years later. His father had sold the beautiful land to developers, and all trace of the man Kenneth Hutchinson had loved had been built on or paved over. He had been left nothing of the man but his memories. Hutch studied the bare handful of letters. So many memories in such a small space, he mused. Why didn't I save his letters? Where did they go? He sighed at a young child's thoughtlessness and placed the envelopes aside with the others. He knew the kind of letters they were, time enough for them later. Next came more pictures of him and his sister on the farm. He took a few moments to study them, wishing his grandfather had been in more of them instead of always behind the camera. Hutch had been given all the pictures his parents had owned of his childhood when he had married. It was not his own image he was interested in anymore. There was a small bundle of newspaper clippings, and Hutch was lifting them aside when he saw the envelope. 'To My Kenneth Hutchinson' it read, addressed but unstamped. In the spidery handwriting that Hutch knew so well was the date '22nd December' and underneath that, the year of its creation. The year he died! Hutch though in shock. He felt frozen in place, unable to move. He did write me! Hutch felt a curious relief, as if he had been holding his breath for a long, long time. He sat there and looked through misty eyes at the envelope at the bottom of the box. I'm afraid to touch it. What did I write? What did he answer? Hutch sat for several trembling minutes before finally reaching fingers to touch the yellowed paper. He tried to remember that last year, those cold fall months before Christmas when he was ten. He couldn't remember writing the letter, or what he had written about. All he could remember was waiting in anticipation for his grandfather's longed-for reply. It's here! It's got to be here! Hutch thought suddenly, reaching for the stack of his own letters that he had lain aside. He hurriedly turned to the last envelope and heaved a massive sigh as he recognized the date on the last letter. He pulled it out and hurriedly opened it up, eyes scanning the careful but scrawling handwriting. * Dear Grandfather, How are you? I am fine. It is cold here and we have lots of snow. Do you have snow yet? How are all the animals? I bet Daisy is glad to be in the barn because I know she doesn't like the snow. I know Daisy is old, but she is a good horse. If I were there I would give her some sugar for Christmas. Maybe when we come next time you can show me how to shoe her. I'd like to see that. How are all the cows? I bet they like the barn too. If I were a cow or a horse I'd want to be outside all the time. I like the snow. School is okay. I'm not doing too well in history, but I've gotten a lot of A's in math. Mother and Father are fine. Father is on a trip and won't be home until Christmas. Mother is busy now. She is going to have a lot of parties this year so she is shopping a lot. I have to get three new suits for them. I really hate that. I wish I could come to the farm for Christmas. I miss you. I know Mother said you couldn't come this year, but I really wish you could. Grandfather, could you call and talk to Mother for me? She said that next year she wants to take us kids with her next summer. I think Mother and Father are going to keep us next summer and take us on vacation with them. I want to go to the farm. Can you please call her and tell her that? She never listens to me. On the phone you asked what I want for Christmas this year. I've been thinking real hard about it, but I don't think I can get what I really want. Mother and Father would say no, and it sounds stupid, so I'm not going to ask them. Don't tell them, but what I really want is a little brother. Sisters are okay, but they are boring. They do stupid stuff all the time and tell on you and always get you into trouble. They hit you but you get in trouble for hitting back just because she's a girl. But a brother would be different. I know he would be a baby, but I could take care of him. Mother wouldn't have to get a nanny for him all the time because I could feed him and stuff until he got bigger. We could share my room. We could get another bed and he could have the corner by the closet and the nightlight. I'm too big to need it anymore so he could have it. I would be nice and let him play with my toys. Even the good ones. And I wouldn't hit him even if he broke them. We could play Cops and Robbers and the Lone Ranger. I could show him how to ride Daisy without falling off like you showed me, and I could show him how to take care of all the animals on the farm. We could camp out in the backyard and catch the lightning bugs. And I wouldn't let him squish them because bug are good for nature. We could tell him about Santa Claus and pretend he is real. I could use my Christmas money to buy him presents. We could tell each other secrets and he'd never tell on me and get Father mad at me. And I would never tell on him. And I would like him no matter what he was like because he would be my brother forever. I know it's stupid and Mother and Father would get mad, but that's what I really want. But I'll say thank you whatever it is I get. I promise. Can you please call Mother about next summer? I don't want to go anywhere but the farm. They can take my sister with them if they wants though, that's okay. But if I'm going to be a farmer like you, I need to be there a lot. I love you, XOXO Kenneth * Hutch smiled at the letter and his childish wish. If I had gotten a brother, I would have been too old to have been anything to him but a busy teenager. We wouldn't have had much in common by then. But still, it would have been nice to have had someone else to care for... He put down the letter on top of the pile and reached for his grandfather's letter. He felt nervous, unsure if he really wanted to know what his grandfather had replied. It must have been the last thing the elderly man had written. He picked up the letter, checking to see if the seal was still unbroken after all these years. It was still intact. Hutch used the pen-knife to carefully slice open the envelope along the short edge and reached in to pull out the yellowed parchment paper. He forced himself to take a breath, lean back and open the letter. It was time. * My Kenneth, I read your letter today, and was very glad to see it. I can tell that you try to be a very good boy, yes? I am glad that you are good in school. Remember that what your parents say is right, and that school is very important. I know you are studying hard, and will learn all the things that a farmer must know. Daisy is grumpy, but she is old and I spoil her. I will give her some sugar for Christmas and tell her it is from you. The cows are fine, but they think I am slow in milking as they are always telling me to go faster. They moo so much you would think they are singing to me, but I know what they are saying. I will talk to your mother for you after your Christmas. I know she thinks you are getting to be a big boy now and should see more of the world. I would miss you in the summers, but if you go with your parents I expect you to do your best and learn new things. Even a farmer likes to hear of far away places and I would enjoy your stories. You and your sister could be my eyes and ears for me, so don't think traveling with your parents would be a bad thing. I expect you to obey your parents and not fuss and to send me beautiful postcards. I would like to see other places. You will do that for me? I don't think your Christmas wish is silly or stupid. I would dearly love another little Hutchinson to come and visit me and play with my animals. However, I don't think your Mother and Father are planning on more children, so I will do something for you, if you think you can wait. I am a very old man, and someday I will go to heaven to be with your grandmother. We have talked about this before, so remember that this is a good thing. I love your grandmother very much, and I feel that I will be with her soon. I love you dearly, and would stay with you and your sister if I could, but everyone passes on when their time comes. Please don't be scared, because I'm not, and I know that it will be sad for you for awhile. But I will make you a promise if you make me one. When I am in heaven I will look for a brother for you. Your grandmother and I will look and look until we find the perfect one. In fact, I bet your grandmother has one already picked out. She was very good at those sort of things, and I'm sure I will agree with her. But you will have to help. Your brother will be with his own family until he is grown. They would miss him too much if he came to stay with you now, but we will try to get you two together as soon as possible, so you need to start looking. Your grandmother is a fast worker. I will tell you how to find him. Your brother-- He will not look like you, so you must be looking for the right things. He will not think like you all the time, only when it's really important, so you must look extra carefully. You will always be able to share your toys with him, and he will do his best not to break them. He may get very mad at you, right or wrong, but won't hit or hurt you on purpose. He will be very sorry if he does, and will want to make things right. He will usually play by the rules and will not try to cheat you at games, unless it is a funny trick. You will be able to tell him secrets and you won't have to worry that he will tell on you. He will stick with you if you do get into trouble. He will help as best he can. He will always pick you for his side of a game, even if everyone knows you don't play it very well. He will not let people say bad things about you, even if you are not there. You will be able to share Christmas and Santa Claus with him. But remember, he was raised in a different family and his Santa may be very different than what you think he should be. And most importantly, he will want to be your brother. But having a brother is a lot of work, Kenneth. You must be his brother as much as he is yours. This means you have to behave yourself or you will lose him. Remember, your perfect brother is a person too. If he really is your brother, you will want to treat him right. Your job-- Do not get too mad at him if he breaks your toys by accident. You make mistakes too, so don't be so quick to judge. Don't be so bossy and fuss at him all the time and hurt his feelings. Respect that he has his own way of doing things. Play by the rules and don't cheat him. He would eventually catch you and his feelings would be hurt, just like yours would. Protect him from the bullies. Some brother's need help now and then. Don't talk about him behind his back or make fun of him. Brother's don't do that. Let him say what he wants to say. Brothers need someone to listen to them. Let him like what he likes. He doesn't have to do what you say or like what you like. Don't spoil his fun because you don't want to play. Don't expect him to know the things you know. Brothers are good at teaching each other things, if they know how to listen. You must listen and learn. Let him teach you about his holidays. Your family does special things during the holidays. Let him teach you what his family does differently and maybe you can share the good things from both. And let him be the Lone Ranger, the Policeman or even Santa Claus if he wants to. You can take turns being the bad guy. Now, I promise that if you look carefully, watch for the signs and have patience, you will have your brother. But remember all the rules and try hard. Can you promise me that you will try hard to take care of him? Can you promise to remember the rules? Be a good boy, and remember the rules for your sister. You can practice on her. Girls are people too, and you will soon find that they can be some of the nicest people there are. All my love, Grandfather * It wasn't until his grandfather's signature swam in his vision that Hutch realized he was crying. He barely managed to lay the precious piece of paper down before the sobs took him, and he hid his face in his hands and wept. *** It was still dark outside, and it was still cold and mushy, but Hutch strode the slick sidewalks with a bounce he hadn't felt in ages. He knew he looked ragged with his reddened and swollen eyes, but he felt wonderful. The cold sting of the air would minimize his tear swollen face, and his silly smile would belie the fact that he had been crying. But it had been the good kind, the kind that let you feel like something inside had been fixed, or at least patched for awhile. He just hoped Starsky wouldn't take it the wrong way if he noticed. It was still early, and he had a party to go to and a gift to buy. In fact, he had several things to buy before Christmas, but he still had two days to think furiously and shop fast. Tomorrow after their shift was over, their first stop would be the nearest Christmas tree lot. He would let his partner pick out a good one. Then came ornaments and a way to ditch Starsky at the apartment so he could shop in private... But right now he was late for a party and he needed a gift. Hutch walked swiftly through the crowd of shoppers and saw that he had about an hour of shopping time left. He didn't know what he was looking for, but it didn't have to be anything special for tonight. The real problem would come in the next couple of days when he would have more time to put some thought into the real gifts. Tonight, it would just have to be something small, silly and have 'Starsky' written all over it. Hutch would know it when he saw it. But he would have to hurry, so he wouldn't miss any more of the Metro party than he had to. He would arrive and claim that his date hadn't worked out. If he was lucky, the gift exchange wouldn't have happened yet and he could slip Starsky's gift into the pile. Starsky could try to figure out how he had gotten his name in the pot twice, but Hutch would never tell. If not, then it would just be something nice that Starsky hadn't expected from his partner. This party would be different, as Hutch would try extra hard to keep his eyes and his heart open and learn something from Starsky. If Hutch's brother wanted to play Santa Claus, Kris Kringle, Father Christmas, or even Rudolph, then Hutch was not going to spoil his fun. It was in the rules, and he had promised his grandfather he would try his hardest. He wanted to deserve his grandparent's last gift. But Hutch had specifically noticed that his grandfather hadn't written anything about having to be the 'little' brother, so Hutch considered that the position of 'big' brother in this relationship was still up for grabs. He was the taller of the two, and Hutch felt that had to count for some major points in the 'brotherhood' rules, no matter what Starsky claimed.
10170281	Chances Taken	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Corvo Attano, The Outsider (Dishonored), Daud (Dishonored), Emily Kaldwin, Jessamine Kaldwin, Delilah Copperspoon, The Whalers (Dishonored)", "Fandom": "Dishonored (Video Games)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Vrankavrana", "chapters": "5/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "16,294", "Additional Tags": "Time Travel Fix-It, Sort Of, Age Regression/De-Aging, In a manner of speaking, Low Chaos Corvo Attano, High Chaos Emily Kaldwin, medium chaos Corvo, Medium Chaos (Dishonored), Daud is a terrible influence, Fluff and Angst, Asexual Character", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Corvo Attano/Jessamine Kaldwin, sort of - Relationship", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	He doesn’t know how long it has been since Delilah’s coup, but since then Corvo has had more than enough time to become intimately acquainted with the cool feeling of the void as it swirls around the material covering his body. He’s never been able to tell if the stone keeping him trapped and immobile lays on top of his skin or if it is his skin, and for the sake of his sanity, or at least for what remains of it after all this time and two lost empires, he’s never bothered to ask. At first he’d been devastated, he’d failed Emily just as he’d failed Jessamine before her and he could only wonder if his life was not so much more than some great cosmic joke being played at his expense. However, the isolation of the void save for the occasional passing of whales had been quick to temper his emotions, leaving something pathetic and wretched in their absence. Delilah had begun her visits then, and seeing her there just beyond his reach had almost been enough to pull himself together again. This was the one who had damned him a second time, this was the one who couldn’t have simply let and let live, who had destroyed everything he’d built just to see the world delivered into her hands. He’d heard her story; of course he had, given how fond she seemed of repeating it to him whenever she appeared at the edge of the platform upon which he stood. Corvo had never been sure whether or not what she said was truth, surely Jessamine would never act in such a way? But she had insisted for all that she couldn’t hear his protests, and The Outsider hadn’t answered his questions any more than he ever had, which was to say not at all. He’s found that somewhere along the lines his anger and hatred instead turned to pity for this strange twisted woman, to the point that it is even with some muted curiosity that he wonders what became of her when her visits suddenly come to a stop. Some immeasurable amount of time passes before she appeared again, this time not as an all-powerful empress but frazzled in a way he couldn’t have imagined before. She looks angry. She looks frightened. That is how he learns that Emily is alive, his heart burns with a fierce joy and he cannot deny the pride he feels in knowing that she had escaped and is now working her way back to the throne. Cutting Delilah’s feet out from under her in a way that appeals so well to Corvo’s own twisted sense of poetic justice. He’d never wanted his daughter to follow in his footsteps so closely, but now he only looks back on their training with a visceral satisfaction and knows that she will be fine. He takes the opportunity to ask The Outsider about her the next time he appears to Corvo, and though he cannot speak in his frozen state the deity always seems to be aware of what he wants to know. This, like much concerning The Outsider Corvo simply accepts and tries not to think on too deeply. It is how he learns that his daughter has been marked, that she had a choice and took it. At first he is shocked, following in his footsteps indeed. Then he is angry and terrified for her sake because he knows better than anyone the potential for violence those powers hold, how they can twist and distort you until you barely remember what it means to be yourself. He thinks of Granny Rags and her empty eyes and shrieking laughter, he thinks of Daud, he remembers Burrow’s face twisted in death. There is nothing he can do but wait, a silent observer, one eye in the void and the other in the throne room of Delilah’s court, waiting for Emily as Delilah tears his city apart. It is more luck than anything else that he is watching when Emily arrives, and he can only look on in horror as she cuts her way across the room leaving bodies and screams in her wake. Her left hand raised in a perpetual way that he recognizes as a habit that comes from the gestures associated with The Outsider’s magic. It is with frightened awe that he watches as she pulls herself around the room with an unnaturally fluid grace, cutting down more men and women with one stroke of her blade than she should ever be able to. She mixes with the shadows so well that he often loses sight of her entirely, only catching glimpses of a frayed coat and the light reflecting off her blade, his blade, as she moves about the space. The sound Delilah makes when Emily finally guts her is not something that Corvo will forgot for a long time, the look on his daughter’s face as she watches the woman die, drinking in the sight of her foe falling and twitching at her feet will take longer still. Emily finishes quickly, leaning down to whisper something Corvo cannot hear before she finishes Delilah with a relish, the void whispering in the back of his mind as the witch passes. Then Emily stands slowly, wiping her blade on the side of her coat, after a moment turns to look over at where his statue stands. Something has changed in her, as she walks over he sees it in the way her eyes still scan the room, the way the fingers on her left hand twitch and rub together, there is something feral in her eyes now, something that he cannot understand. He can only hope that whatever it is he can help her through it, he’d dare say that they’ve survived worse before and knowing their luck will do so again in the future. But Emily does not come close to him, instead stopping just inches from his frozen, outstretched fingers and looks at him with a blank expression. Her hand twitches at her side and for a moment she looks like the child he remembers but then the careful blankness is back and she goes preternaturally still, watching him with a slightly cocked head, she still hasn’t removed her mask. He’s never been scared of his daughter before but something in the way she doesn’t move, in the way she looks at him like he is some specimen on display behind the glass of the royal conservatory unsettles him in ways that he refuses to examine too closely. Emily doesn’t move until her reverie is broken by the arrival of a squad of guards led by Jameson Curnow. He’s thinner and paler than Corvo remembers, his expression old and haggard despite his relatively young age. He’d been one of the few of Corvo’s agents to escape when Delilah had culled her way through his men, and was forced to take over what remained of the loyal guards after that. Corvo still shudders at the memory of seeing Geoff falling dead at the end of a witch’s blade, only one of many good men dead as a consequence of his failure to protect them. They’d done the executions in the throne room and Corvo had been unable to do anything to stop them from happening, he’d wondered at the time if Delilah had done that on purpose. Short of two other moments in his life he had never felt so helpless. Emily turns back towards Jameson and he notices the way she straightens her spine and tries to stifle the twitching in her fingers, from the uncomfortable look on Jameson’s face she isn’t entirely successful. They exchange words on the other side of the room and Corvo wants to yell, he is here, he wants to help, he is sick of feeling useless, he is sick of this helplessness, he wants to be free again, he wants to touch Emily, to take her in his arms and never let go, to put the empire back again. Eventually Jameson finally turns from Emily and walks over to Corvo’s statue himself, looking up at it with those old haunted eyes that he seems to have picked up. “Your majesty if you don’t mind my asking-” He pauses, words catching in his throat “- what are you going to do about Corvo?” He asks and from the way his eyes flick to Emily’s marked hand Corvo cannot help but see the small spark of hope that lies there. He wants Corvo back, Corvo wants to be back, he wants to talk to Emily, he wants out of the stone on his skin. Emily glances over at Jameson out of the corner of her eye and responds, “He’s safe there captain, he will stay where he is” Even encased in stone as he is Corvo feels as if someone has driven a dagger through his chest. “In- In the throne room?” Jameson asks, and there is desperation in his voice, a hidden plea for at least a small return to normality in the return of his commanding officer. He is not a man who has had nearly a lifetime to acclimate to the idea of the arcane and the weight of it shows in the despondent and weary droop to his shoulders and a previously youthful face. Emily doesn’t respond, instead she moves closer and lays a gentle palm on the side of Corvo’s face. Even through the stone and the void he can feel the chill of her touch and it lingers even after she removes her hand. “Yes in the throne room, I’d like to keep my father near me,” She says and Jameson is not at all successful in hiding his dismay. Somewhere in the void Corvo Attano screams. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Time passes, Emily stays true to her word and Corvo stays in the throne room. He is forced to watch in silence as Emily begins to push the city towards rebuilding and though he wants nothing more than to turn away and leave them to it, he cannot help the way his glance is constantly pulled back to the throne room in Dunwall, back to his daughter.He watches as Emily holds court, looking closely in the hope that he might catch a glance of the person she had once been, to perhaps once again see the sparks of Jessamine which had once brought him such pride. He doesn’t. She is so very different from the girl he remembers, stalking about the court with a barely restrained predatory instinct, only occasionally remembering to restrain her now habitual twitch, her fingers never seem to stop moving these days.She makes her court nervous, he can see it in the way that the nobles glance at each other and whisper when they think that Emily cannot see them. He can hear the whispers of discontent galvanize into something more from a group of aristocrats who often gather just off from where his statue stands.“We cannot allow this to continue” one of them says, a weasel-like man who Corvo does not recognize but with whom the other men are quick to agree.“Yes, if these last twenty years have proven anything it is that the Kaldwins are not fit to rule” another nods, and this one Corvo is surprised to realize he does recognize. It’s lord Ramsey, the first time he’d met the man had been at the Boyle party so long ago, and since then the man had done nothing to prove he was anything other than an aristocratic twit with more guile than sense.The nobles continue their conversation and Corvo begins to feel a small burning anger come to life inside his chest, after all that Emily has been put through they are already planning another coup. He is not particularly surprised when he can’t seem to summon much beyond that quiet smoldering of anger at their words. It seems that his life has gotten to such a point where even news like this does so little to stir his ire when a mere few months ago he’d have had these men exiled for daring to speak in such a way. Once he might have even been worried for Emily’s sake but he knows that she has changed in such a way that this will be nothing to her, he’s not sure if he should feel proud or disgusted.Their plot, at least what he learns of it is almost insultingly simple, and unsurprisingly, lacking in any sort of creativity. They plan to bribe a maid into stealing a key into Emily’s chambers before sending in a group of corrupt guards to end her life. Then blaming it on the same assassins who had taken her mother, with the Kaldwin line gone they would then be able to take the empire for themselves. Personally Corvo feels that they spend far too much time arguing about what pieces of the empire will go to whom than on their actual plot and that they are sealing their fate with every damning word they speak.He’s insulted by the simplicity, and he can almost imagine the disgust that the Whalers themselves would feel knowing that their name would be slandered with what promised to be undoubtedly shoddy work. He may not approve of the assassins, may still wake with the sight of Daud’s red coat seared into the back of his mind, but at least they were professionals.Needless to say he knows that it is only a matter of time before their plot is uncovered, one does not live through two attempts on one’s empire before they start to become attuned to those sorts of things. Emily is quick to prove this, and catches on long before their little plan has a chance to truly germinate into action.The night she learns of the plot she comes to sit at the feet of his statue in the quiet of the throne room, with moonlight streaming through the windows and the gentle quiet of the night he can almost imagine that things are as they may have once been. He’s surprised that he can feel the weight of her in a soft pressure against his legs. He doesn’t like it, but it has been so long since he’s been able to feel much of anything given his state that Corvo finds himself taking a quiet pleasure in the contact.“It’s happening again” Emily is saying and Corvo realizes with a start that she had been talking for some time and he’d simply not realized, so caught up in the sense of touch. He cannot see Emily’s face but he hears a cold undercurrent colouring her voice and it sends a shiver down his spine.“You’d think that after all this time they would have realized how foolish this is of them … mother would not have let them get away with it” He’s shocked at the mention of Jessamine, much more so at what he thinks his daughter is implying by her words. He wonders how much Emily remembers of Jessamine, if anything at all, and tries to ignore the lance of guilt he feels at the thought.“Neither will I, I’ve been too lenient with them, I see that now” Corvo wants to reach down to her, he wants to pull Emily into his arms until she stops speaking this way, until she comes back from this precipice he can feel her wavering on. However, he cannot speak to her any more than he can reach down and touch her shoulder and so he is forced to simply watch as she lapses back into silence.“They are going to suffer for this” she finally says, shifting against his legs and Corvo can hear the promise of blood in her voice. She leaves shortly after, her steps quiet on the marble floor and he is left reaching for her back as she walks away from him and out of the room.The palace is quiet that night but Corvo cannot help the unease which pools at the bottom of his stomach as he watches the empty throne room. Something is happening out there, and he can’t help the anxiety that begins to weave through him at the thought of Emily and what she may be doing out beyond anyone’s purview.He’s momentarily distracted when he spies a pair of rats in the corner of the room and watches in silent vigil as they circle each other, weary before something seems to snap and they fly at each other shrieking for blood. It has been a long time since he’s seen rats in Dunwall, especially ones of that size and he is reminded of the stink of rotting flesh and weezing of the sick, of the quiet dripping of his cell in coldridge, he remembers the rush of power he felt the first time he called the vermin forth himself. Despite his best attempts he is unable to look away and instead watches as the animals tear themselves apart, one falling when a lucky blow gashes it across the throat, the other limping away before it too falls to the ground, dead. Their little corpses lie there and Corvo wonders how long it will take before anyone notices them, he wonders if anyone will clean them away at all. Ever since Emily made the decision to leave his statue in this space the palace staff have been weary of entering the room, much less spending enough time to clean it.Sometime early in the morning, before the sun has risen Emily returns, slinking in through the window in a way that she looks far too comfortable with. She’s not wearing her mask and even from the other side of the room he can see the smile that pulls at her lips. There is also a body slung over her shoulder and it is only when she approaches that he sees that it is Ramsey, he is admittedly surprised when she places the noble down and he can see that he is only unconcious. There is a worrisome amount of blood covering her hands and coat but when he looks her over all he can see is that while Emily does seems to be favouring one side there are no wounds on her that could have resulted in such. He wonders who tried to stop Emily on her way to Ramsey and hopes that whatever she did to them she at least did it quickly.Corvo slowly lifts his gaze from Ramsey and watches in weary curiosity as Emily steps closer to him as if sharing a secret.“I’m sorry that I did the other ones myself-” she says,“- but carrying fifteen bodies back would have taken all night” she continues,“But I brought this one, he’s the leader and I figured you’d appreciate seeing when he dies, after him they’re all going to be gone, we’re going to be safe again” Her smile is bright when she says it, and Corvo can see a small splatter of blood on her upper cheek where her bandana failed to cover.He mentally recoils from her and pushes himself as far as he can go without actually moving, shifting his point of view back to the void as he does so. For all that he cannot breath he feels as if some great pressure is pushing down on his chest, he feels restricted and so very claustrophobic, his vision is spinning and he doesn’t know where he is. In one moment he is in the throne room, then the void again, then the gazebo where he lost Jessamine, he swears he hears Delilah laughing at him somewhere in the back of his mind, he hears Jessamine’s voice cry out as Daud stabs her again and again and again.When his vision finally settles he sees the mess that has been made at his feet, Emily is crouched over Ramsey’s chest, which she has torn open, and in her hands she holds his heart, cradling it in her hands like it is something precious. She is more covered in filth than before, and the blood from Ramsey’s corpse is starting to make a small puddle where she stands though she seems to take no notice of it. She stays that way for a moment before letting out a beatific breath, she gently sets the heart on the pedestal near his feet like some kind of twisted offering before she finally stands up and makes her leave.After that he stops watching Dunwall, he cannot bear to see what has become of Emily so instead he retreats to the void like a coward. Counting whales as they pass and trying to keep himself occupied in any way he can, he’s running through the security layout of Dunwall tower when he realizes he’s fallen back on the habits he made in Coldridge.That does not stop Emily from talking to him, no, in fact ever since the night with Ramsey and the heart she has taken to speaking to Corvo far more often. Usually at night, but not always, nobody says anything though, they saw the mess that was there the day after Ramsey’s death and it is enough to keep them cowed.Nobody comes near the Lord Protector’s statue anymore. Rumours had spread apparently, that hearing of the coup Corvo’s statue had come to life and killed all the conspirators, they’re not true, if Corvo could move at all he certainly wouldn’t have wasted the opportunity hunting down the likes of Ramsey. He wonders if any of them remember that he managed to get the throne back the first time without spilling a single drop of blood. Burrow’s was the exception of course, but he’d always been more rat than man and everyone in the city knows to kill rats.Despite his best efforts he cannot seem to block the sound of Emily’s voice from his mind, and regardless of how much he cannot bear to see what has become of Dunwall and the empire besides, that voice continues to sound in the back of his mind. He can still feel when she sits at his feet, and speaks to a father who cannot answer.In the brief moments when he can no longer keep himself from the throne room he watches quietly as the city seems to collapse around them. A fire burns down large swaths of the poorer districts, there is another attempt at a coup, plague returns to Dunwall and the people flee, there is another desperate attempt to remove Emily from her throne. Somehow through it all, she manages to keep her grip on power, white-knuckled though it is.Corvo over time finds himself tiring of the constant cycle of violence and Emily’s all too common nightly visits and retreats further into the void. He can still hear her voice speaking in the back of his mind, though is is distant enough to blend with the ambiance of the void that he’s gotten so good at ignoring.He’s shocked when the Outsider appears, floating just off the edge of the small island where his statue stands in the void. The deity hadn’t appeared to him since the time of Delilah’s coup and he is not sure exactly how long it has been since then. He supposes he should be angry; it was at least partially the Outsider’s fault that he lost the empire the first time not to mention the second; it was the Outsider who granted Emily her arcane powers. However, there is nothing he can do to the deity even if he wasn’t frozen and he knows the Outsider knows this as well so he doesn’t bother with the bitterness. He instead looks up at the deity with a placid glance.“My dear Corvo, it really has been a long time” Corvo cannot help but agree.“I confess Emily has held my attention longer than most-” the Outsider continues and Corvo doesn’t think he hides his involuntary flinch very well for all that he cannot move.“She held out remarkably well, but the stench of blood can be so tempting to those denied it so long, most children who lived through what she did would have gone mad long before” The implied statement that Emily has lost her mind is remarkably loud for not having been spoken.“What do you want?” Corvo projects at the Outsider though he’s not sure if the god can hear him or is just ignoring the question, instead deigning to remain floating just inside of Corvo’s peripheral vision. The quiet reminds him of the time right after Coldridge when he had been unable to break his self-imposed silence after six months of refusing to speak. It’s almost funny, he thinks, how many of the key moments in his life have left him caged and silenced and unable to help the people he loves.“What would you do, I wonder, if you could do it all again?” the Outsider’s voice breaks Corvo’s train of thought and he can feel his attention snap back to the god as the implication behind his words begins to sink in.“A second chance, right from the beginning, before all this began-”“- a chance to fix all your mistakes, what would you give I wonder?”“Anything” he responds without thinking but he knows that it is true, he’d do just about anything just to be able to leave his statue, the thought of being able to change anything besides that is almost too much to contemplate. Besides, there is little left to him here, Emily is lost to him and the rest of his life has been narrowed down to this, a statue partially in the void and partially in Dunwall, there is nothing for him to lose.The Outsider turns to look at him and he feels as if he is being stared down by something far greater and older than himself, there is something predatory in those fathomless eyes. He knows there is probably more to this deal than he expects, knows that he may as well sell off his soul right now, but he also knows that this is not a chance that will come again.“Anything” he repeats, and he sees the Outsider go preternaturally still. The void itself seems to be humming with energy or perhaps with anticipation, slowly the god turns on the spot to face Corvo. He recoils at the sight of the wide smile which splits the Outsider’s face,“Then another chance you will have” Corvo’s vision seems to be cracking at the edges and he feels as if somebody is trying to force his body through a small tube. The whale song of the void building to a crescendo that blocks out even the sound of Emily’s voice in the back of his mind. As he slowly loses consciousness he swears that he hears a not entirely human voice whisper,“And dear Corvo, do make this interesting” Before the darkness overtakes him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Corvo wakes slowly, the sensation of his body returning to him gradually, from the rise and fall of his chest to the sensation of the ground beneath his fingers. He’s lying down and even over the surprise at feeling anything at all he’s utterly shocked at how good he feels. He’d been frozen for so long during which most of his sensations had been muted if not absent altogether. Even before that after Coldridge he’d never been completely able to shake off the chronic pain that had been purposefully enacted upon him. To suddenly be without it feels as if someone has loosened all of his tension at once. He can feel the heat of the sun and a warm breeze that gusts across exposed skin, the smell of salt permeates the air and he can hear the sound of the ocean somewhere nearby. The sheer calm of it leaves him stunned and he avoids moving or opening his eyes for fear of shattering the moment. It has been far too long since he’s had a chance to relax; even before Jessamine’s death his moments of respite had been few and far between and after, well, the less spoken of the years of anxiety, paranoia, and sleepless nights the better.He wonders where the Outsider had the void spit him out, and while he may want to spend another moment relaxing where he lies, a lifetime of constant vigilance and the habits that come with it push him up and awake. He blinks his eyes against the light of the sun and brings up a hand to shade them. He’s been frozen for long enough that the natural movement of his own arm takes him by surprise and he stares down at it in shock and then in delight. Before he knows it a laugh is bubbling up his throat and he does nothing to stop it as it rings out, he does not remember ever feeling so freed in his life than he does in that moment when he stands and stretches for the first time in years.The laughter bubbles up again and despite his best efforts to contain it he cannot stop the way it comes out tinged with hysteria. Everything he has avoided feeling suddenly seems to come crashing down onto him, his failure, Jessamine’s death, the loyalist’s betrayal, losing Emily, Delilah’s coup, losing Emily a third time, while he is now free the guilt seems to be doing its best to shatter him. In the void the numbness he’d felt after the initial shock and anger had worn off had stopped him from thinking too much on his particular failures but now there is nothing he can do to keep them at bay. The laughter devolves into sobs and gasping breaths, there are suddenly too many sensations and he burrows his face into his arms. Of course the Outsider couldn’t have made it easy for him, of course. He’s been given a second chance though, he may not know exactly where he is or what he is going to do but the thought helps him bring his breathing back under control. The shock and sensitivity is still seething under his skin and he knows that it is something that he’s going to have to address sooner or later, but for the time being he simply lets out a breath and heaves himself back to his feet. His balance is slightly off from what he remembers but really that could just be a result of not having moved for who knows how long.He’s relieved to see that he is dressed, albeit simply, not that he wouldn’t have been surprised if the Outsider had dropped him in the middle of nowhere completely naked, but it does give him one less problem to worry about.He’s surprised to see the lack of the Outsider’s mark on his left hand and rubs the empty spot nervously. He’s never been particularly over reliant on his powers, but their sudden absence makes him feel as if he is going out into the world unarmed and naked. Not entirely off the mark in a figurative or literal sense, he’s going to have to find some way to rearm himself if he plans to actually accomplish anything. Nonetheless outside of his general lack of supplies he’s actually in better condition than he has been in years, it’s an uplifting thought and now sure that all of his limbs are in the places they should be and that he doesn’t seem about to fall apart following his trip through the void he turns his attention to his surroundings.He’s standing at the spot where the sand of the beach before him meets and gradually transforms into grass, leading up behind him into a tall hill. The ground is pleasantly soft beneath his bare feet; it’s too hot to be Gristol, which means that he must be in Serkonos, or perhaps Pandyssia? He hasn’t been back to his homeland since he left to serve the Kaldwins, and never seen Pandyssia, but he already knows which one he would rather find himself in.He recognizes the trees that sway around him though, as a species unique to the east of Serkonos, his father had been fond of saying it was some of the highest quality wood available considering how common it was. He’s relieved, it’s not Dunwall, but at least it’s not Pandyssia either.He turns his attention back to the landscape before him and though not entirely sure at first glance he swears he sees a path in the sand looking as if something had dragged itself out of the water and up the beach, the path staggers its way up the sand before eventually ending where he now stands. He knows that the Outsider, and presumably the Void as well are connected to the ocean so it makes sense considering where he came from, but he shivers at the thought nonetheless.He climbs the hill, and is relieved when he finds a dusty road on the other side. There is no sign to point him the right way and it seems to stretch on indefinitely into either horizon so lacking any better ideas he picks a direction and starts walking. As he walks he finds that the sun is far warmer on his skin than it has been in years and he quickly discovers himself sweating despite his relatively slow pace, the light fabric of his clothing beginning to stick uncomfortably to his skin.He still hasn’t met anyone and some small part in the back of his mind wonders if he will ever meet anyone at all. He remembers the tests the Outsider used to put him through during his time with the loyalists, and wonders if this is nothing more than another trial. Thoughts like those only feed into the seething anxiety beneath his skin so he simply shakes his head and pushes the thoughts away, surely he’ll come across something soon, even the Serkonan countryside cannot be completely empty.The relief he feels when he spots a cart coming up behind him almost brings him to tears, it is horse pulled and quickly catches up to where he has stopped walking, slowing down until he is able to look up at the weathered man who sits behind the horse’s reins.“Where are you headed boy?” he asks in Serkonan, and Corvo feels for a moment as if he must be remembering the word wrong because nobody has called him boy since before he entered the Blade Verbana. And even besides that the man cannot be that much older than he is, still, perhaps it is only a peculiarity of the locals and he is not about to lose his chance at a ride, or barring that directions because of something as stupid as his pride.“Wherever the nearest town is,” he responds and tries not to allow his surprise to show on his face when a completely unexpected accent comes tumbling out of his mouth. Well, it turns out he didn’t make it through the Void completely unscathed after all, he briefly wonders what else has changed but is shaken from his musings when the man starts talking again, Corvo had forgotten he was there. Apparently his time as a statue has robbed him of all his social graces, how wonderful.“Well, Belam is just a couple miles down this road, I could save you the trouble if you’re willing to bear a little company” He gestures over his shoulder and Corvo looks into the wagon. He’d originally assumed that the thing contained crates or foodstuffs and is surprised to see three young pairs of eyes reflect back at him instead. Apparently his surprise must show strongly enough that the old man laughs and quickly explains.“Orphans-” he says, giving Corvo a knowing glance,“I picked them up a couple towns back, the Abbey outpost in Belam arranges for young lads from the nearby villages without prospects to be brought in for training, they’re always looking for more overseers y’see, the Abbey here isn’t as strong as it would like so encourages the locals to get involved in other ways” seeing Crovo’s expression darken at the information he says,“Besides, it’s not a bad life, keeps em off the street and out of trouble” He sends a look back at the boys in the cart and shrugs.“I don’t suppose you would be headed there for the same reason?” Corvo, lacking a better explanation simply shrugs and does his best to look like he doesn’t want to answer any more questions as he climbs into the back of the cart. He has a mixed success; while the man doesn’t ask any more questions about Corvo he doesn’t stop talking either. However, after a short while of Corvo’s oppressive reticence the man finally falls quiet as well, a sort of vaguely companionable silence falling over the cart as it trundles along. It is interrupted again when one of the boys with whom Corvo is sitting asks,“Where are you from? I’ve never heard anybody talk the way you do-”“… and you look different from everybody here too” another adds,“I’ve never met someone from outside Serkonos before, can you tell us about it?” Corvo is unsure how to respond, partially because he’s still not completely used to the idea that he can talk back at all, and partially because his thoughts all stumbled together at “you look different from everybody here” He’s Serkonan, he’s always been Serkonan, too Serkonan as far as the Dunwall nobility had been concerned and yet here he is, in his homeland, being told that he doesn’t look local. It doesn’t help that he now has no idea what he looks like, it doesn’t help that an accent he’s never heard colours his speech every time he opens his mouth. His chest is starting to feel tight again and he turns all his attention to not falling apart on the back of the cart.“Well?” his imminent meltdown is interrupted by impatient curiosity and the boy’s request finally processes.“You want to hear about the other isles?”“Yes!” All three of the children seem excited at the prospect and Corvo figures that this is probably a better way to pass the time than avoiding questions from the driver or reflecting on his circumstances so he racks his memories for a story that isn’t too revelatory and launches into an abridged tale of the time he traveled to Whitecliff during his training as Lord Protector. He’s in a cart full of future Overseers and a driver who believes him to be aiming to join the Abbey himself, he figures it’s safe enough to share. More importantly there is no mention of Kaldwins, assassins, or heretical gods and if that is the only thing keeping him from bursting into tears in front of a suddenly attentive audience then that is his business and his alone. The rest of the journey continues in that fashion, with Crovo sharing short stories from his various travels around the isles, the driver occasionally adding in his own tidbits of trivia. Apparently the older man had spent some time in Morley and takes pleasure in going to great lengths to describe just how terrible he’d found the weather.It is, for all intents and purposes the most benign sort of conversation that Corvo can imagine and he finds himself enjoying it. Emily had always liked his stories when she’d still been young enough to want those sorts of things and it appears that the talent hasn’t left him. By the time they arrive at their destination the children are already asking him if he’ll stay at the outpost with them, they want to hear more stories and they claim he’d make an excellent overseer as well. He absentmindedly rubs the back of his left hand and surprises himself when he lets out a snort of laughter, he’s met the Outsider, gained the god’s favour and wielded magic he never could have imagined, has spent years in the Void itself, yet here he is being told he’d make an excellent Overseer.“They’re not wrong you know,” says the old man as he reins the cart to a stop and helps them disembark,“I’ve met men more than twice your age who were not even half as traveled, the Abbey could use more worldly men” Corvo worries again for his appearance, not necessarily out of vanity but more because he has no idea how to interpret the words being directed his way. He’s always been aware of the way his appearance affected the manner in which people saw him, even using it to his advantage on occasion. Apparently it is another weapon the Outsider has seen fit to strip from his arsenal. He rubs the back of his left hand.“I’ll think about it,” He finally says, settling for a non-answer. The man doesn’t seem too worried and he simply shrugs,“I hope you do uh-” He looks at Corvo expectantly,“Corvo”“Corvo.” The man nods and claps him once on the shoulder before turning to corral the children down a slightly busy street as they wave goodbye. Apparently Corvo had forgotten to introduce himself, he shakes his head and turns away from the cart. Now that he’s in a larger town he’ll have an opportunity to find out where exactly the Outsider dropped him, and how he can make his way back to Dunwall.He finds a bar easily enough, and now that the day is beginning to wind down it is beginning to fill with people in search of dinner. His own stomach reminds him that he hasn’t eaten all day and Corvo reflects that hunger is one of the few things he had not missed during his time as a statue. Unfortunately he has no money and nothing to pawn except for the signet ring that lies on a thin leather cord around his neck. He tucks it back under his shirt; given the choice he’d rather go hungry.Still, there are other ways to collect coin and Corvo stretches his fingers, deftly lifting three coin pouches before he’s decided that he has enough. He’d never really had a predilection for petty theft before, sure he’d stolen when he’d had to back in Karnaka before he’d grown old enough to look for proper work, but it was really after Coldridge that the skill had become a habit. Pierro had always been willing to turn whatever he’d brought back into funds and Emily had enjoyed some of the small pieces of jewelry and pretty feathers he’d brought back for her. This had changed once they returned to the Tower and Emily had once given him an angry talking to when she was sixteen about pickpocketing the nobility after she’d found the hidden collection of stolen pouches, wires and other small objects he’d stashed in his rooms.“Just because your name means crow doesn’t mean you have to act like one!” She’d yelled, and he remembers the event with a fond sort of bitterness. He wishes he could have brought Emily with him, leaving her in what remained of her empire had hurt more than he could have imagined, he wonders if she is alright. While she may have changed from the child he knew he would still never wish any harm to befall her, while as a statue he had at least been able to watch her now he can only wonder.There is no point in drowning himself in maudlin thoughts so instead he steps further inside and looks for a place to sit. He finds an empty table at the back of the room and having a wall against his back makes him feel much better about this entire arrangement. One of the servants bustles over to ask him what he would like and he simply responds with whatever is the evening’s special, his attention is too drawn by the crowd of people around him to pay much attention to anything else, it has been so long since he’s seen this many people together without any sort of paranoia souring the atmosphere that he settles into his seat and simply drinks it in.His food is warm and spicy when it arrives, some kind of sausage in sauce and a soup that as far as he can tell contains no sort of fish, practically a miracle after years in Girstol, as well as warm bread. Not necessarily anything overly classy but it fills his stomach and any sort of food is a more than welcome after the emptiness of the Void. He wolfs it down with an enthusiasm that surprises even himself. After that organizing a room is easy enough, even if it does cost the rest of his illicitly collected funds and he staggers up the stairs, exhaustion suddenly making itself known.The room is on the third floor, a single large space with a bed and chest of drawers on one side and a desk on the other. The thing which draws his attention the most is a small mirror on the wall beside the drawers and he feels a ball of ice settle in the pit of his stomach. From what he’d been able to conclude with his fingers all of his features are still more or less in the right places, and he’s been aware of the fact that his hair is longer as it keeps falling forward into his face but other than that he has not the slightest what he actually looks like. Yet now that he has the opportunity to find out he finds himself hesitating, it could be anyone who looks back at him from the mirror and he doesn’t know how he would take it, it has been an exhausting enough day.He knows however, that if he doesn't confront this now it will only fester so with a deep breath he steels himself and steps forward, turning to meet his own eyes in the mirror.He’s younger than he used to be, but this is no great surprise his ride with the man and Abbey initiates had proven that much, though the extent of it surprises him somewhat. He can’t be older than fifteen or sixteen, his hair is long again, darker than he remembers true black rather than the dark brown it had been before, hanging down around his jaw in a shaggy heap. To his great relief his other features are also similar enough to the way he remembers them being, his nose seems to be slightly larger, and the shape of his eyes had changed somewhat, his skin is of a slightly different tone though still not pale. His general bearing seems sharper somehow, even beneath the youth still visible on this new face of his. He looks like he imagines a brother would look like if he had a brother, or perhaps a relative of some sort, similar enough that the changes he does see are obvious and yet not catastrophic enough to cause him too much trouble.He lets out a breath, running his fingers through his hair, he’s fairly certain that he’s shorter than he should be.With the question of his appearance resolved the exhaustion from earlier returns, sapping the strength from his bones, eyes drooping he throws himself fully clothed onto the bed and sinks his face into the pillow. It feels incredible. He can feel his awareness begin to fade almost instantly and he only has a moment to think of the possibility that he will wake up to find himself back in his statue but by that point he’s far enough asleep that it makes no difference. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Corvo is amazingly comfortable when he wakes up, he can hear a quiet bustle of people around him and he wants nothing more than to retreat back into the hazy warmth of sleep. Unfortunately restfulness seems to flee from him and as he wakes up, gaining awareness he finds himself not yet willing to open his eyes. The noise continues, and isn’t that curious? He’s fairly certain that the bar shouldn’t be this busy so early in the morning, and even if it were; his rented room is on the third floor. He shouldn’t be able to hear people moving around him to this extent. The realisation causes his eyes to fly open and he shoots up, tangling in the sheets of his bed as he does. He’s in a large space filled with flat, low lying bunks, occupied by a number of other people who lie in various states of health. Some of them move about he space and exchange quiet words, others lie in quiet misery. He’s fairly certain that he wasn’t sick when he went to sleep last night and he scans the room looking for clues to his location. Someone coughs and rolls over with a groan. He hopes the Outsider hasn’t decided to drop him in new locations every time he goes to sleep; it’s an unpleasant thought. His eyes quickly dart down and he sees that his left hand is still bare, he’s admittedly surprised, he would have expected the Outsider to pull him into the void at the first opportunity but it appears the god is biding his time. Scowling, he turns his attention back to the room.A door at the far side opens with a quiet creek and a large woman dressed in pale gray enters a moment later. Corvo’s glare zeroes in on her; she glances about the room and is about to leave, apparently satisfied, when her gaze lands on him and she physically starts.“You’re awake!” She bustles over, making her way to the side of his bed far faster than he would have expected for a woman of her size. The other people in the room letting her pass with little care. She smiles,“You’ve been asleep for three days!-” now it is Corvo’s turn to stare,“Three days?” he manages to croak out, his throat is very dry.“Yes, Jani-“who?”-the bar owner-”“-She brought you in, said you rented a room for the night and then when she went to see if you’d left she found you still asleep! Couldn’t wake you for the Void” Corvo blinks at the influx of information but can’t seem to wrap his head around three days.“Where am I?” he finally manages to ask, above all the other questions he feels knocking around.“The Abbey” she responds while leaning over him as if checking for signs of illness“or, well, whatever passes for the Abbey this far out in the middle of nowhere” she winks at him as if to share an inside joke and Corvo wishes she would stop moving. Her energy is giving him a headache.“Originally we weren’t going to keep you here this long but old Seb recognized you, said he’d met you on his way in, that you’d been on your way to join with us” The old man with the cart. Corvo wants to groan but instead he only hesitantly nods, it’s not like he can’t always escape later, the small Abbey outpost he’d seen while exploring the town would hardly be the hardest place he’s escaped from. But the idea of being stuck away from Dunwall any longer than he has to be chafes at him, It seems Overseers are going to continue to be a hindrance regardless of whether he is marked or not. The woman smiles again, and Corvo really wishes she would stop doing that, he’s unused enough to social interaction without having an exuberant nurse fuss over his non-existent ills.He’s in the process of explaining that he is very much all right when the door opens again, this time admitting a fully garbed Overseer. The man is tall and walks across the room at an even pace, his boots clicking authoritatively with every step. The room goes quiet and the nurse steps around to face him as he approaches, brows furrowed as she looks at him pointedly.“Brother Marcus, is there something you need?” She doesn’t look unsettled per se but Corvo can tell that she is not happy to have the man here. His fists clench on top of the blanket and he wishes he at least had a knife, if not that he’d trade a good many things for his old pistol. He’s decent enough at hand to hand combat when he needs to be, but he’s not certain his center of gravity is in the same place he remembers and he’d rather not have to try his luck.“I was informed our guest had woken up, figured it was better to be safe than sorry-” the silver mask turns to glare at Corvo, “- you never know what kind of rabble finds itself at the side of the road these days” Corvo has to try harder than he should to keep his face blank, it’s been a long time since anybody felt comfortable insulting him, especially to his face. Being Lord Protector on top of the rumours of his skills and activities as an assassin had been more than enough to curb most tongues. But he isn’t the Lord Protector here; he isn’t even sure if he even legally counts as an adult, he supposes in the face of that he really shouldn’t be surprised that the Overseer is unimpressed. It doesn’t stop it from biting though; he’s hardly a child.“Is he well?” the question is directed at the nurse and she lets out a frustrated breath,“From what I can see, yes, but you can’t tell me you plan to take him to the other initiates already? He just woke up; what if there is another instance where he cannot be woken? He should stay here for at least another day to make sure whatever he had has passed” She looks like she is gearing up for a fight with her hands on her hips and a thunderous expression on her face. Despite her blustering the man doesn’t seem affected in the least, instead he nods at Corvo,“He looks well, anybody walking down the hall could hear him telling you he was well, he doesn’t look like he’s about to collapse, there is little point having him take up a bunk he doesn’t need” Corvo suddenly wants nothing more than to stay in the bed if only to deny the man what he wants. He pauses when he realizes what he’s feeling, and forces himself to relax, he’s not a child and he won’t give the Overseer the pleasure of seeing him act like one.“It’s alright, I’ll go” two heads swing around to look at him, the nurse looks as if she is about to start speaking again and she does not look happy so Corvo continues before she has the chance, “I’m feeling fine, if anything happens or if I do not feel well I will come back” The nurse looks between him and the Overseer as if she is about to start arguing again but then sighs in defeat,“If you feel anything wrong at all, anything, I want you back here immediately, no bravado you understand?” Corvo stares back at her flatly; he’s had years of experience and long months in prison to disabuse him of his pride in seeking medical aide but he supposes an apparent sixteen year old wouldn’t so he simply nods.It’s clear the nurse isn’t happy but she hands him a clean set of clothes in which he dresses quickly, he’s quietly amused at the abbey motifs that line them and the comfortable way they sit on his heretical shoulders. He doesn’t have any boots but he didn’t have any before either and these clothes are much more solidly built than what he was wearing before, the shirt and trousers are of a far more solid material and one far more familiar to Corvo. Still, he’s pleased nonetheless when he is handed his old clothes and the signet ring as he leaves, quickly throwing the leather cord over his head and tucking it beneath his new shirt.He follows the Overseer out of the room and through the halls, neither of them bothering to start conversation, Corvo instead choosing to observe the people around them. Outside of the sick room the outpost is surprisingly busy, fully garbed Overseers and others closer to his own apparent age and dress bustling about on one task or another. In its own way it reminds him almost painfully of Dunwall tower and after a while he turns his attention away. The Overseer stops him with a hand on his shoulder at a corner and hails one of the boys who was walking by as Corvo tries surreptitiously to get the man’s hand off of him.“Alfys” the boy is about Corvo’s age, taller than he is and stockily built, with scruffy brown hair combed back in an attempt at orderliness, and an otherwise unassuming face,“Yes Brother Marcus?” he looks at Corvo with open curiosity and raises an eyebrow at his bare feet. Corvo tells himself he isn’t self-consciousness and tries not to shuffle uncomfortably.“This one was just brought in, get him some shoes and things as well as a place to sleep. He’ll follow your rotation until Morris can work him in properly” with that the Overseer simply turns and walks away at the same measured pace he’s held since Corvo first saw him and he can’t stop the slightly incredulous look that manifests on his face. He’s fairly certain the Outsider is less awkwardly stiff then that man. Alfys follows his line of sight and laughs,“Don’t mind him too much, Brother Marcus can be difficult to stomach but he’s one of the best men here, I am Alfys Marin, and you are?” He hold out a hand to Corvo and he reaches out to grasp it,“Corvo”“Just Corvo?” He goes to say his last name but finds nothing where the memory should be. He feels that this should worry him but there is a fuzzing in his ears and a strange sense that where he comes from they don’t have last names the same way they do here. It’s deeply unsettling and for a moment he feels slightly faint but then he shakes his head and the fog clears, he’ll have to look back into his supposed last name later.“Just Corvo” he tells Alfys and he can tell the other boy is surprised; surely it’s not that strange a thing to lack a last name? But the look passes quickly enough that Corvo can’t be sure it was ever there at all. “Well Just Corvo, follow me, we’ll get you a change of clothes and whatnot then find a place for you to bunk after, have you ever been to Belam before?” unlike his superior Alfys seems more than happy to fill the silence, and as they walk the halls of the outpost Corvo is informed all about the town and the outpost that occupies it.Apparently they are the largest Abbey outpost in the area short of the base in Cullero, so most Abbey brothers and sisters travelling to and from the city tend to pass through town. It’s also where many initiates from the area spend at least the first part of their training and education before they travel to one of the larger congregations in the cities; he’s told the current class that he is going to join is fairly small and that there has been trouble recruiting recently.He learns that Alfys’s parents are farmers and he was sent to the Abbey when he was old enough to look after himself so his parents would be better to provide for his five younger siblings. In general it is all information he could live without and he’s thanking the void when they finally find the storeroom they are looking for.“Ah, here we are, you wouldn’t happen to know your measurements would you?” Corvo shrugs and Alfys gestures to his shirt, “well that seems to fit well enough, there should be a mark on the inner seam” Corvo pulls his shirt out from his trousers and examines the bottom edge until he finds the numbers he is looking for. They rummage around the room until he has another set of shirt and trousers and then spend another short while trying to find a pair of boots that fit.By the time Corvo has everything he needs his arms are piled with suspenders, clothes, and a heavier coat “for the colder months”. His stomach, grossly empty after three days asleep is making its unhappiness known. Luckily for his dignity Alfys seems to be having similar feelings and he eyes Corvo,“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to wait to find a room and look for food instead?” Corvo nods enthusiastically and adjusts the packages in his arms as he follows Alfys from the room. Corvo finds himself in a canteen, men sitting around the tables and engaged in quiet conversation, hounds resting at their feet and masks off. It’s surprisingly relaxed and Corvo finds it difficult to match his experience with the zealots of the Abbey with the sight of regular men trying to sneak food down to their dogs without catching the eye of their comrades.Alfys leads him around and through a swinging set of doors into the kitchen. Suddenly they are enveloped in the strong smell of cooking food, spices from a stew bubbling on an oven nearby, and fresh bread mingling in a way that leaves Corvo’s mouth watering.“Alfys! What are you doing here, you had your food rotation an hour ago where were you?” a cook looks at them from where he is chopping onion and pins Alfys with a glare.“I was helping Corvo, he’s new and we needed to get his things organized” the cook’s eyes rove over to Corvo and he studies him for a moment before turning back to the onions. If he doesn’t look overly impressed then Corvo is at least happy he isn’t barefoot this time.“Well, I suppose you’ll want enough to feed two of you then?, of course you do, you’d probably take enough to feed four all for yourself if you could” Alfys looks slightly abashed but grins at the man nonetheless.“So there is something left over?” The cook pauses to look up at them,“If you’re willing to wait a minute you can eat warm with the men outside” is his response and then he shoos Alfys out of the kitchen, taking Corvo with him. He’s still smiling and with an arm he tugs Corvo over to a table slightly off from the main space, leaving it open for the other Overseers who are quickly filling the room. Corvo places his things on the bench beside him and stretches, his back cracking as he does so. When he settles back down he see Alfys looking at him and he raises an eyebrow in question.“So Corvo, I’ve told you all about myself, this place, and all, what about you?, you haven’t told me much other than your name and that is hardly anything at all” Corvo wishes he could stand up and walk away, this isn’t what he planned on happening at all when he agreed to flee the Void and the wreck left of his daughter and her empire. For a moment he entertains the idea of being honest, of telling Alfys about Emily, about his life, about the Void, the Outsider, and all the strange circumstances that led him to be sitting in an Abbey outpost in rural Serkonos.He decides against it in the end because despite his tenuous grasp on sanity he has no wish to be detained on grounds of madness, especially not here.“You could at least tell me where you’re from? I’ve never heard an accent like yours before” Corvo wants to sink into his seat, he’s not even sure what to make of the accent and he hasn’t had the chance to come up with a passable explanation much less a lie.It appears he’s just going to need to make it up as he goes along,“My parents travelled a great deal when I was younger, so I picked up their accent, I was born-” his voice stutters when he tries to say Serkonos, it doesn’t fit well in his mouth, “-at sea, so nowhere in particular” for a moment he’s worried at its briefness but Alfys nods as if fitting a puzzle together, apparently satisfied.It’s a solid story and he’s not above admitting that he’s proud of it given the circumstances. It covers his accent, his experiences on the other isles and makes him untraceable if anyone thinks to go looking for doctors and records for whatever reason they will be sorely disappointed. The fact that he couldn’t admit to his true homeland unsettles him, almost as much as the shift in his appearance does but he chases the thought away, if he’s not careful then he will lose whatever control he’s still holding onto and he needs to get back to Dunwall and make sure all is well before that can happen.“So you’ve been to the other isles then? I must admit I’m jealous, I’ve only ever read about them in books” Alfys is leaning on the table, his eyes bright and inquisitive, and Corvo cannot stop the small smile that twitches on the edge of his mouth, he’s never been able to resist.“What would you like to know?”They spend the rest of the meal trading stories, Corvo giving short anecdotes and trivia about the isles in exchange for funny tales and local gossip,“They say Nurse Libby and Jani have been secretly together for years, and the only reason that Lib manages to keep her job is because no one else has ever managed to stand the position for so long”“In Tyvia their prisons have no walls and you are always invited to leave at any time, the bears and wolves serve as better guard than the men ever could”“what were you doing in a Tyvian prison?”“I’m sure you would love to know”“Choffer, you can’t just say things like that and not explain”The announcement that food is ready and the subsequent rush of booted feet to try and be the first in line interrupts their exchange. Thankfully their table is near the front and they manage to get their food without having to wait too long.It tastes as good as it smells and they talk no more as they each tuck into the stew, rich and spicy and vaguely Morlish in origin it warms Corvo from the inside and by the time he is licking the last of the sauce from his fingers a warm haze has settled over him. He can see the sun setting through the windows and at the moment he feels not only relaxed but safe as well, it’s strange, sitting here surrounded by the Abbey that the paranoia which has fueled his actions for years seems distant. Absently he thinks that Jessamine would like the food, the atmosphere, and it’s as if a pail of cold water has been doused over his insides.The air seems colder somehow and the light nowhere near as warm and he sighs, running a hand through is hair. Alfys seems to notice the shift in mood but thankfully doesn’t comment, quickly finishing his own meal and standing up.“I think we’ve doddled long enough, lets find you a place to rest before Lib hunts me down for endangering her patients” Corvo nods and the two of them leave the room, then the building. Making their way through an open courtyard hidden behind the main building. Alfys leads him to another building, which appears to be the barracks, proven true when they enter and Corvo sees several halls leading off from the main area, lined with doors on both sides and inhabited by boys as old as Alfys to as young as the children the man he’d hitched a ride with had been bringing in. No one seems to be any older than him and Alfys though, with the exception of the bored looking clerk sitting behind a desk and watching the room with a warily over the edge of his spectacles. The older Overseers must bunk in a separate building.“Hey, Morris are there any free rooms?” Alfys asks as they approach the desk, the clerk, Morris apparently, looks at Alfys and then lets his gaze slide over to Corvo, taking in the packages in his arms and slightly lost bearing and shakes his head.“I’m afraid not, Seb brought in some new ones and they took up the last free ones, besides he’s too old for those halls anyway” Alfys sighs and shoots Corvo an apologetic glance.“Are there any free bunks in our hall?” Corvo shifts, adjusting the bundle in his arms, to shift one of the buckles on the suspenders that had been digging into his chest. Morris mumbles something to himself and looks down at the ledger that sits on the desk in front of him, flipping through pages and running his finger down the list of paired names. His finger comes to a stop at the last name on the list, indecipherable to Corvo and Morris hums under his breath, a pinched look coming over his face.“There’s only the one at the end of the hall and well…” he meets Alfys’s eyes over the edge of glasses and even Alfys’s expression sours slightly but he quickly forces it neutral again. Corvo can feel his eyes narrow; there is something he is not being told.“Are you sure it’s the only one?” Morris nods, “all the others are taken, sorry lad but you’ll just have to make do” This is directed at Corvo and unsure how to reply he only shrugs,“I’m sure I’ll manage” He gets a pitying look in response and fights to resist rolling his eyes.As they turn away and walk down the hall Alfys fills the silence this time seemingly more out of a nervous tendency to ramble than for actual conversation.“Rotations are organized by halls so you’ll actually always going to be with me now, even after you don’t need my help to find your way around. There are only one and a half halls for our group, but because of the split they give us separate rotations, it’s lucky we ended up together, I hope you’re okay with that because-” He cuts off when they reach the door and rubs his hands together in a nervous tick.“Listen Corvo, this one has driven off every bunkmate they tried to put in with him, but you’re not really going to have much of a choice so please try not to cause no trouble alright?” Alfys’s nerves are starting to rub off on Corvo and though he knows intellectually that he is more than qualified to deal with whoever stands behind the door he cannot help but feel the giddy rush of adrenaline start to seep through, readying him for a fight.Apparently unable to put it off any longer Alfys knocks sharply on the door and when a voice answers from inside he pushes open the door and steps inside.“You’re getting a new bunkmate, this is Corvo” He steps forward and stops because he knows that face.Even decades younger and lacking its distinctive scar he’d know that face anywhere; it’s been a burned into his mind ever since his life shattered the first time fifteen years ago.It’s Daud. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “This,” Corvo thinks, “must be some kind of sick joke” However, regardless of how long the three of them stand staring awkwardly at each other, Daud doesn’t disappear and Corvo begins to think he can practically hear the susurrus laughter of the void ringing in his ears.“The left bunk is mine” what at first seems a non sequitur manages to snap Corvo out of his shock long enough to realize that Daud is referring to which bunk is open to him but despite his best attempts to respond language seems strangely difficult in coming. Alfys, sensing that something is amiss quickly comes in to try and remedy the situation,“Corvo just got here so don’t go causing him any grief, Morris has already given you more chances than you rightly deserve” In spite of his shock Corvo is surprised at how warmed he feels that Alfys thought to defend him, outside of Geoff, Samuel, and maybe a couple of his most senior agents he hadn’t had many people he would ever think to count as friends, especially after the Loyalists. There had always been Emily of course, but their relationship, good as it had been was always overshadowed by Jessamine and the gaping holes that she had left behind. Not to mention that he could have hardly taken his ten-year-old daughter as a confidant.He cannot help but think now, with the benefit of hindsight, that perhaps one traumatized man still reeling from a series of terrible betrayals was hardly the best figure to help a young girl with her own demons. Perhaps that distance is what led Emily to-He cuts the thought, this is hardly the time or place to revisit his failures as a parent. Neither Daud or Alfys seem to have noticed Corvo’s miniature crisis, and he finds himself being herded towards the right bunk by Alfys, who leans in and whispers something quietly about finding him if there is ever any trouble, though Corvo isn’t paying enough attention to make out the exact words. He nods and Alfys finally leaves, looking worried and shooting him a glance as he closes the door leaving him and Daud alone.A profoundly uncomfortable silence descends upon them and Corvo busies himself packing his few belongings into the chest seated at the end of his bunk. However that cannot distract him for very long and he is deeply, uncomfortably aware of Daud’s curious gaze on the back of his neck. He wonders in a moment of utter lunacy if perhaps he ought to throw himself out of the nearest window and go running right back to the sea and the Void, at the moment even its infernal ambiance would be preferable to the choking silence he now endures.He finally stands up, unable to keep at his distraction for any longer, he has never made a habit of shying from confrontations and he is not about to start now.“I’m Daud” Is enough to entirely throw him off again and he scowls in confusion, of course he knows who Daud is, there is hardly a soul in the empire unaware of the infamous Knife of Dunwall, and he doesn’t appreciate being mocked by the man who ruined his life.He opens his mouth to say as much when, somewhat belatedly, it hits Corvo that Daud doesn’t look much older than he does at the moment. Mixed with the clearly perturbed look that the other is sending him can only mean that Daud isn’t likely yet to have made his name as a hired killer, that Daud probably hasn’t even so much as seen Dunwall’s shores much less shed its blood, that Daud hasn’t yet killed Jessamine.He falls heavily onto his bunk, barely feeling it; the enormity of the revelation enough to leave him utterly desensitized. Daud is still staring at him strangely, looking Corvo thinks, as if at the moment he would rather be anywhere else.“Do I… do I need to get Morris?” Daud sounds genuinely worried and Corvo actually chuckles. Daud worrying about anything is strange enough to think about, Daud worrying about him is almost comical.“No, no, I’ve just had a long day” Corvo waves a hand and Daud shoots him a look clearly telling him how believable he finds the excuse, but simply shrugs and turns to his own bed, quickly losing interest.“Don’t snore” is all he says before stripping off his shirt in a single movement and putting out the single lamp hung by the door, throwing the room into darkness, the sun having set sometime during his arrival.Mechanically Corvo strips off his own outer layers and climbs under the covers, quickly finding it impossible fall asleep. He stares at the ceiling above him, plans and images of Dunwall and Jessamine spiraling in his mind. He’d wanted to get to Dunwall as quickly as possible in order to prevent her death at Daud’s hand, but now Daud is sleeping on the other side of the room and if the rest of the world has truly rewound the way he thinks it has then Jessamine is still little more than a child.Turning his head he sees the indistinct shape of the assassin lying in his own bunk. It occurs to him that he could put a stop to it all right now. It wouldn’t be difficult to end Daud before he even has a chance to consider ending Jessamine’s life, to remove even the remotest possibility of a whaler’s blade ever touching her skin.It’s tempting, so very tempting and though he knows it is not there Corvo feels the echo of the Outsider’s mark shivering up from his left hand, pushing him to act. He tamps it down. He may not be one to avoid confrontation but he has also never made a habit of making decisions without thinking them through. During his time with the Loyalists he’d made a point to avoid killing anyone, proving both to them and to himself that he was hardly the murderer they had tried to turn him into. He’d killed Burrows in the end; unable to stomach the thought of the wretch taking any more breaths while the consequences of his handiwork tore the empire apart.But he had spared Daud. Given him his life after fighting him to a standstill. Admittedly his motives had been less than merciful, the man had clearly been destroying himself with guilt and letting him go to stew in his regrets was a much crueler fate than any death Corvo could have dealt him. It doesn’t change that he did it though. Even when the wounds inflicted had still been so fresh, when he suspects that if not for his need to see Emily safe he would have probably lost his mind in the ruins of the flooded district and never been heard from again. He let Daud go. Can he really turn his back on those actions now, years after the event and decades before it is even set to take place?It’s a choice he realizes, paths to take that will lead to different futures, to kill Daud or not to kill him, changing the future to suit his will. Chagrined, he realizes it sounds like something very much like what the Outsider would say. He hopes wherever he is the black-eyed bastard is enjoying himself and falls asleep fully expecting to wake in the Void.When he wakes up not having so much as dreamed of a whale Corvo tells himself he is not disappointed and tries to believe it. Early morning light is streaming through the single window illuminating the room in all its austerity. He sees Daud is already up, sitting hunched over on his bunk dressed and doing up his boots. Corvo blinks at him blearily, of course the bastard would be a morning person, he’s not sure why he expected anything different.He contents himself as he forces his limbs to move with the knowledge that at least this body probably hasn’t carried over his coffee dependency from his previous life. Compared to those mornings when he could barely tell his right hand from his left he is positively radiant with morning cheer. Corvo is just navigating the straps of the overalls that came with his initiate’s outfit when there is a knock at the door. Daud looks up at it and answers sharply,“What”“Are you decent?” Corvo recognizes Alfys’ voice and grunts, the door swinging open to reveal the other initiate already dressed and shooting Daud a glare that the other returns flatly.“You ready to go to breakfast?” He asks, looking at Corvo with a much warmer look on his face. Tightening his belt around the last of his vestments Corvo nods and follows Alfys out of the room, leaving Daud behind them rolling his eyes.Breakfast is an uneventful affair and Corvo takes the opportunity to study the other initiates who slowly join them as the outpost begins to wake up. There are about two dozen of them all together, all within three years of age and seeing the way they all sit together in the canteen reminds him of when he first joined the Grand Guard, though of course at that time his uniform had been red and not black he finds himself relaxing into the familiarity. They chatter inanely about what local gossip they’ve heard and the lessons they apparently have to take. One side of the room becoming embroiled in a shockingly passionate theological argument about whether or not reading penny dreadfuls breaks the strictures. Corvo listens to the argument with some interest until someone begins to quote the litany of Whitecliff after which point he spends the rest of the meal dutiful eating as much as he can while Alfys explains what the day will hold.To his surprise there is a surprising level of academia expected of them, apparently they are expected to attend to basic lessons in history and mathematics, as well as a session dedicated to studying theology whatever that may entail. Corvo already despairing, he’s never been particularly good at sitting and memorizing, much preferring to be on his feet getting things done than wasting away behind a desk. It is only when Alfys mentions that they will also be expected to practice in the yard with martial weapons that Corvo’s interest is piqued. He knows he is shorter than he should be but simultaneously does not feel as unbalanced as he used to, and the chance to stretch his sword arm without the risk of being skewered is one that he finds himself cautiously looking forward to.Corvo lifts his gaze from his meal to see Daud enter the room and as if a spell has been cast the formerly bustling conversation quiets to a hush, everyone looking down at their plates and trying to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Corvo lifts a brow at the strange reaction and meets Daud’s eyes as he retrieves his breakfast. Nobody moves until Daud has sat down at a table on his own and it is only then that conversation cautiously begins to resume.Corvo turns to Alfys and gestures with his head towards where Daud is sitting in a silent question. For a moment the boy looks like he is not going to answer until he seems to come to a decision and lets out a sigh, putting his fork down on his plate and bringing his hands together.“You’re going to have to share a room with him so I only suppose it’s fair that you know” he begins, shooting a glance over Corvo’s shoulder to make sure that nobody is listening in on them. “He’s only been here for a couple of months-” he says, “-at first everything was fine but then he got into some kind of fight with his bunkmate at the time, it ended when he broke both the other guy’s arms-” Corvo blinks in surprise, “-that wasn’t the end though, it seems every person who bunks with him ends up being invalidated out, the last one was so bad he had to be sent to hospital in Cullero” now that he has begun speaking Alfys seems unable to stop. “Not only that but he’s a right devil on the practice yard, anyone who so much as looks at him funny ends up with a bloody nose if not worse, I swear by all the spirits that if I didn’t know better I’d swear he’s touched by the Outsider”Corvo isn’t sure what to say in response, he’d been aware that Daud by nature had to be violent given his chosen field of work, but the fact that even at such a young age he’s already causing such trouble makes something of the former guardsman in him twitch. He flexes the fingers on his left hand and shoots a sharp grin at the worried look Alfys is sending him,“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out,” he says, and tries not to enjoy the way that Alfys’ worried look only seems to deepen.The lessons go exactly as Corvo expected, and he has the feeling that even if he didn’t already know most of the information they are being taught from his time as Lord Protector he would still have found it mind numbingly boring. He passes the time spinning his pen on the tips of his fingers and flexing his blank left hand thinking on the void. At first Alfys tries elbowing him into paying attention but he eventually gives up, leaving Corvo to his thoughts.Sitting near the back of the room Corvo has a clear view of most the other boys as they either write or watch the teacher with varying degrees of boredom. Daud is seated on the other side of the room, appearing as bored as Corvo feels. He looks different without the scar, of course he’s also nearly thirty years younger than when Corvo last saw him but he can’t quite put his finger on what exactly he’s supposed to make of the situation.He’s under no illusion that the Outsider sent him to this specific time period for a reason, reverted to a younger age though not the right one. If he remembers correctly he’d been some three years younger than Daud the first time around. He’d been sent back apparently as a second chance to fix the way things had gone in his life, and for that reason he can’t be clear on why the Outsider hadn’t simply sent him back to some earlier point in his own life, certainly that would have been easier than dropping him in these circumstances. Not to mention the change in his voice and physical appearance, a question that he doesn’t even begin to feel ready in addressing. The sheer strangeness of it leaving him baffled at every turn.He’d hoped to have some answers from the Outsider the next time he was pulled into the void, however as time passes he has become more and more convinced that it simply is not going to happen. He never considered himself overly devoted to the deity, especially for one marked with his favour. He’d never sought out shrines except for when he had stumbled upon them nor had he made a habit of leaving out charms and offerings the way he’d seen Granny Rags do. He thinks wryly, that perhaps it is his lack of faith that has had the Outsider abandon him right after showing him such a monumental favour.Groaning, he brings up a hand to rub at his temples where a headache is beginning to form and looks up fast enough to catch Daud looking at him with open curiosity. They stare at each other from across the room, Corvo carful to keep his expression blank. Daud looks away first when the teacher calls him to answer some fact about the Abbey in Morley and Corvo turns away. He doesn’t know what to make of the young assassin and frankly the less he has to deal with Daud, the less he has to think about Daud the better, he has more important mysteries to hold his attention after all.The rest of the morning and early afternoon passes in a blur of lessons about which Corvo doesn’t care and catching Daud looking at him more and more suspiciously every time it happens. By the time they are finally led out into the courtyard where they will be allowed to practice with weapons Corvo feels as if he is vibrating with energy. He’s never liked sitting still for long periods of time, a preference only enforced by the unfortunate time he spent as sentient statuary.Someone has dragged out a box of practice blades and Corvo easily recognizes the distinctive bulk of an Overseer’s blade in the shapes within. As they are given leave to pick one out and begin their stretches Corvo hefts his in hand and can’t stop the way his lips quirk upwards. He’s always felt more natural when he has a weapon at hand and even though he misses the elegance and sharp grace of his old blade he finds himself feeling charitable to the dulled piece of metal he now holds.He chafes at being instructed on how to properly stretch but forces himself to have patience, using the time to adjust to his center of gravity, spinning the sword in one hand to get a feel for the weight. Some more basic movements follow, and falling into the rote of muscle memory Corvo watches the other initiates.They all show signs of having some experience, likely due to the lessons they are now taking, though some are clearly more comfortable with the weapon than others. Alfys holds his sword like a butchers knife, and Corvo can’t help but cringe slightly as he watches the rough way in which the other boy swings it, clearly he’s used to his larger build making up for any mistakes in his technique. He wonders briefly if he should point it out before reminding himself that he’s not training guards here and that in any matter of fact why should he care how well the future Overseers know their way around a sword. If anything the worse they are in the future the easier Corvo’s life will be when he inevitably finds himself back on the wrong side of the Abbey.In contrast to many of the others Daud holds his sword like he knows what it is and what he wants to do with it. His movements solid and economical though lacking in any kind of flourish, Corvo can’t say he’s surprised, though he is slightly astonished to see echoes, or perhaps precursors? To some of the movements Daud made during their fight in the flooded district. He’d never put much thought into where the other learned how to fight, Corvo himself having been largely self-taught, he can’t help but appreciate the irony in the fact that the Knife of Dunwall of all people learned how to fight like an Overseer.He wiles away half an hour on basic movements until the instructor raises and arm to gain their attention and announces that they are each to find a partner and engage in a light spar. He emphasizes that he doesn’t want to have to send anyone to the nurse and further expands that any little bastard caught using excessive force is going to be very sorry.Alfys immediately seeks out Corvo with a friendly smile and the two of them square off. After exchanging some light testing blows Alfys brings down his sword in a heavy slash that Corvo easily sidesteps before ducking to the side, bringing his sword up as he does. He slashes out but misses when Alfys proves to be more agile than he’d expected and they continue to exchange light blows as Corvo avoids getting caught into a contest of strength. While Alfys’ technique might not be the cleanest Corvo has no illusion about who would win if they locked blades. Finally tired of the stalemate Corvo pulls back and settles for a moment, making it look as if he has paused to breathe, leaving himself open in the process. Alfys, unwilling to give up the opportunity darts forward and swings, overextending himself as Corvo sweeps down, kicking the other boy’s feet out from under him.Alfys lands with a thud and he groans, winded, before rolling over and pushing himself to his feet.“What kind of sea traders did you say your parents were again?” he asks, rolling his shoulder and looking at Corvo with a new respect that wasn’t there before. “At this rate you are going to make the rest of us look bad”“You’d do better if you didn’t take pointless risks” Corvo finds himself responding, and the rest of the lesson passes in easy camaraderie. It is nothing like training with Emily was, he thinks, but perhaps it is not so bad in its own way. After a while, the instructor calls the end of the lesson, telling them to finish their final exchanges and then clean up. As Corvo turns back towards Alfys, expecting to finish his last spar with the boy a hand falls onto his shoulder. He flinches out from underneath the unexpected the touch and twists around to find Daud standing behind him holding a sword. He freezes. Daud hefts his sword and asks if Corvo wants to have the last exchange with him. Alfys is saying something but Corvo doesn’t hear him as he follows the assassin to a space that has cleared for them. He’s not sure what he expects when Daud turns and then darts at him with quick steps and strikes, but he reacts the way he’s trained himself to ever since he first picked up a knife on Karnaka’s streets. He blocks and darts around Daud’s blade pushing the other back with a flurry of aggressive slashes. His surroundings have faded and suddenly he is back in the ruins of the flooded district, half-delirious with poison and fighting for more than his life. For absolution, for Jessamine, for everything that Daud has robbed him of. They crash into the open halls surrounding the courtyard, having moved as Corvo all but chases after Daud, hungry for a chance to set things right. His left hand tingling, he can practically feel the magic he doesn’t have singing as the fight escalates. A clerk is shoved aside as Daud uses them as a shield and papers go scattering around the hall, someone is yelling and Daud throws a vase resting on the low wall at Corvo, drawing his attention as he lifts an arm to bat it aside. In the moment of distraction Daud darts forward and slams the dulled edged of his sword against Corvo’s arm. He strangles a shout of pain, the dulled edge probably hasn’t broken anything, but it adds a new dimension to the blows they make at each other. Gritting his teeth Corvo redoubles his efforts, now practically dancing around Daud, not allowing a single chance for the other to respond in kind. As he continues to force Daud backwards, the other stumbles on an uneven stone and falls to the ground, scrambling as he keeps trying to move backwards. Corvo kicks Daud’s sword aside from where he dropped it as he advances, sending it skittering out of reach, Daud’s glance darting to it in desperation as he does.As he corners Daud Corvo’s own sword comes swinging around before it suddenly halts, only lightly brushing the skin at the side of Daud’s neck. The other flinches and swallows heavily, arching his head as far from the blade as he can, not looking away from Corvo as he does. Corvo is breathing heavily as he stares down at the boy lying on the ground before him. In a moment of terrible clarity it comes over him that this is not the flooded district and this is not the Knife of Dunwall. Daud looks up at him with poorly concealed fear and Corvo feels like he is going to be sick.He stumbles away, dropping his sword as he goes, bringing up a hand to hide his face. He doesn’t know what just came over him but he wants nothing more now than to be as far away from where he is right now as he can be. He may have set his daughter down the path that bloodied her hands so but he refuses to join her on it, he’d decided to spare Daud before, and he doesn’t know why he was so ready to kill him just then. Someone has caught up to where he stands and they grab Corvo’s shoulder pulling him further away from Daud. They’re trying to tell him something but he doesn’t hear them, all sound being drowned out by the ringing in his ears. Someone else has picked up his sword from where he dropped it and he feels a pang at the loss. They’re probably not going to give it back. Whoever had been trying to talk to him has apparently given up and they hand off Corvo to someone else, Daud has also been hauled to his feet and the two of them are dragged off together. Corvo does not know where they are being taken but numb as he is - still reeling from the unexpected dose of blood thirst - he cannot bring himself to care.
10173326	Make Your Mark	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Eren Yeager, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Hange Zoë, Jean Kirstein, Mikasa Ackerman", "Fandom": "Shingeki no Kyojin \| Attack on Titan", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by wasterella", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "5,736", "Additional Tags": "Soulmates, Making Out, Levi is in love and hates it, Eren just wants to find his soulmate, very brief mentions of self-harm (burning - not depicted), Don’t copy to another site", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Levi/Eren Yeager, Mentions of Jean/Mikasa", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	He remembered the day he’d first seen it. It had been back in his rebellious stage, when he hated everyone and everything and wanted to watch the world burn. He’d been sitting in his room blaring music, ignoring the angry shouting coming from downstairs that was the sound of yet another fight between his foster mother and her boyfriend.He was so used to them fighting that he could usually even predict when it was about to get music worthy, and he’d have it blaring before the shouting started, drowning out their toxic words with death metal. These were different times, long before the man he was now.Back then, this was who he was, and he remembered sitting in his chair, working on something mundane—probably Chemistry, fuck that class—and he’d noticed it when he’d gone to scratch his arm.For a second, he wasn’t sure whether or not he was seeing things, but the longer he stared, the bigger it became until it was there, branded on his arm like a fucking life sentence.His soulmate had just hit thirteen.He knew it was his soulmate’s thirteenth birthday, because his had passed three years prior. There had been many studies into the soulmate marks everyone had on their bodies, and it made it exceptionally easy for everyone to know everything about them.They always appeared on both individuals the day the youngest of the two turned thirteen. It was always on the right upper arm. Every single one was unique. There were no take-backsies.His fucking soulmate was now thirteen, which meant some stupid shit was going to be looking to find their one true love, and him? No. He wasn’t into that. He would rather fucking die than be saddled with that bullshit.Sparing it barely a glance, he had immediately left his room, gone to his foster mother’s bathroom, turned on her curling iron, and promptly burned the stupid mark off his arm with much cursing and suppressed screaming. He’d only managed to get a portion of it burned off before passing out from the pain, but at least it was enough that he wouldn’t be able to have it registered at the Marks Bureau. He’d have liked to get more of it, but the woman taking care of him had found him while he was regaining consciousness and had hastily disposed of the iron.Even twelve years later, at the very mature and not-going-to-burn-things-off-my-body age of twenty-eight, the mark was a lost cause.He remembered what it looked like, vaguely. Sometimes he felt like other people’s marks influenced his memory, but for the most part, he felt like he could remember what it had been. If he ever met his soulmate and saw it, he would recognize it.But he wasn’t an idiot. Nobody would ever be able to put up with him. Everyone had a soulmate, but that didn’t mean they were all happy about their soulmates. Most people seemed to get involved with others because it was expected. Two people had matching markings? Might as well skip the dating and just get married.He hated it. It was stupid, and took all the fun out of life. Wasn’t it more exciting to just look forever for a meaningful relationship and die alone in a house full of cats?No. Overall, for as long as he could remember, he had hated that stupid mark. He hadn’t dwelled on it, or thought about it all that much, and most of the time, he pretended it didn’t exist. When people asked to see it, looking hopeful and excited, he would roll up his sleeve, and relish the look of horror and disappointment on their faces at the sight of the burned, mangled mess of a mark he had.It wasn’t like he was unique. Many people had burned their marks off. Most of them still remembered what they looked like, but the people who died alone—probably being eaten by the aforementioned animals—generally died alone because they wanted it that way.And that was what he’d wanted. For as long as he could remember. He didn’t need someone tolerating him and his shitty attitude, so he didn’t want to bother worrying about it.And then he hit thirty, and some smarmy little shit waltzed into his office looking for a job, and for the first time in the fourteen years since burning off the mark—Levi Ackerman really fucking wished he had not burned off his stupid mark.“Jaeger.”Eren Jaeger flailed in his chair like an idiot, almost falling out of it, but managed to stand at the last second and whip around to look at Levi, a piece of paper sticking to his face.Jesus, he was a fucking idiot.Levi loved him so God damn much.“Sir.” Eren seemed to realize he had a piece of paper stuck to his face and hastily reached up to wrench it off, throwing it aside. It fluttered slowly to the floor a few feet from his desk. “Mr. Ackerman. Sir. Yes. Sorry.”“Not sleeping well?” Levi asked, moving closer to his subordinate’s desk and looking down at the haphazard array of paperwork laid out across it. It wasn’t the first time this week that he’d caught him passed out and drooling at his desk. The last report he’d gotten was still wet when it had been dropped off.He’d tried really hard not to think about it when he’d set the folder down near the edge of his desk to dry.“Sorry sir,” Eren muttered, rubbing at his face with both hands. “My sister’s getting married to my best friend this weekend, and I’m just—getting it from both sides.”“I understand,” Levi said, knowing all too well what that was like. “Your sister is fretting about wether or not they chose the right flowers, and your friend is worrying about whether or not he’s ready for marriage.”Eren winced. “Actually—my best friend is the one fretting about the flowers. Thinks tulips was a bad call, too pompous. My sister’s freaking out that she actually agreed to marry him and keeps asking me to help stage her murder.”Levi stared at him, finding that to be a surprise. Eren laughed awkwardly, shrugged, and scratched the back of his head. He looked exhausted, and ready to drop dead. Levi didn’t know having him stick around was a good idea, at this point. He was liable to make mistakes.“You should head home. Get some rest.”“Trust me, I get more rest here,” Eren muttered, then his eyes widened, as if realizing what he’d just said, and he flailed his arms. “I don’t mean because I sleep more here! I just mean that it’s more relaxing here than dealing with the craziness of the wedding!”The older man stared at him, then looked around at the chaos of the floor, where people were racing back and forth with paperwork and reports while others tried to find empty offices to have last minute meetings. He looked back at Eren, who laughed nervously, as if conceding his point.Levi didn’t push, though. If Eren wanted to stick around, he was more than happy to have him there. He was just worried about him. Eren worked exceptionally hard; he was the best executive assistant Levi had ever had, and it wasn’t only because he loved him.That was the annoyingly sad thing. Levi knew that he loved Eren, and he wanted nothing more than to order him into his office and have his way with him, but he couldn’t. Because that wouldn’t be right, or fair.Besides, it would be an abuse of power, and the last thing he needed was Eren quitting for sexual assault. Then Levi wouldn’t be able to stare at his ass when Eren filed paperwork at the end of the day.He always bent at the waist. Levi didn’t know why he did it that way, but he loved it. Eren never bent down, he just bent at the waist, and it was the most wonderful two minutes of every weekday.“Eren!”Locking away any fondness—or attraction—he had for Eren, Levi’s features hardened when the bane of his existence came prancing across the floor.Literally prancing. That wasn’t a word being used for descriptive text. The moron was literally fucking prancing across the damn floor towards them.“Hey Hanji!” Eren looked like someone had just shot him full of happy juice, excitement lighting up his face. “What have you found?”“Well, I don’t want to say I’m a miracle-worker, but I’m a miracle-worker.” Hanji shoved Eren’s work aside, ignored Levi as if he weren’t even there, and spread out a bunch of pictures on the desk.Levi always hated this part of his day. It always made his chest ache, heart clenching tightly.He rued the day he’d introduced Hanji Zoe to Eren. It was the day this entire horrible mess had started.Hanji was what people called a Cupid. A stupid name, but Hanji often looked like a fat baby so he supposed it worked for them. The point of a Cupid was to search for soulmates. It was one of the largest government-funded independently owned services the world had to offer. Anyone with a knack for finding the obscure could become a Cupid, and their sole purpose was to get clients and find those sad and pathetic clients’ soulmates. A useless, stupid job when one considered that a majority of the planet found their soulmates all on their own, or used the Marks Bureau to just look them up, but sad, depressed people needed all the help they could get.Hanji had taken a liking to Eren immediately and had offered to find his soulmate for free. The first time he’d overheard them talking about it, he’d snapped that Eren was sad and pathetic in a fit of jealousy that was very unlike him, and had spent the rest of the day wondering why Eren looked so depressed.It wasn’t until later while having a drink with Hanji that he found out one of Eren’s childhood friends had gone insane when their marks had appeared and realized Eren’s and hers didn’t match. She’d forcibly removed the mark from Eren’s arm with a knife, leaving behind a large, jagged scar.Eren remembered what it looked like, but he was a horrendous artist and the marks were virtually impossible to describe, so Hanji had taken on the challenge of trying to locate his soulmate by luck alone.Every day, they came by with a stack of pictures, showed them all to Eren, and waited for the day he would finally exclaim that it was a match.And every day, Levi secretly prayed to every deity that existed that Eren would never find his mark on any of those pictures.For a few tense seconds, Levi waited, watching Eren slowly flip through the photos. He stopped every now and then to squint and turn the pictures upside down, but eventually he got to the last one and Levi was able to relax at the disappointed sag of the other’s shoulders.“Thanks Hanji, but it’s not here.”“Curses!” Hanji shook one angry fist towards the heavens. “Despair not, my little brownie-cake! I shall find you your soulmate if it kills me!”“Can it kill you before you find it?” Levi asked dryly, both serious and sarcastic at the same time.“Rude!” Hanji said without even looking at him, rushing back the way they’d come, a new determined set to their shoulders.They both watched them leave, Eren disappointed, Levi relieved.Before Hanji disappeared entirely, Eren’s cell phone dinged and he picked it up, wincing down at the message.“Jean can’t fit into his tux. I told him he was eating too many Cheetos,” Eren said with a sigh, turning to Levi and wincing. “About heading home...”“Go. Take some time. Good luck with the wedding.”“Thanks.” Eren grinned. “Best man. Jean and Mikasa had to fight for which side of the aisle I’d be on, but Jean won because I look terrible in a dress.”Levi disagreed, Eren looked particularly lovely in a dress in his imagination, but he just stared at Eren like he was an idiot until the other got uncomfortable enough to pack away his things and get ready to leave. He was heading for the exit when he paused and turned back.“Sir?”“Mm?” Levi asked idly, mind still on Eren in a dress. He’d look amazing in stockings. Lacey thong, garter, the works.“I don’t have anyone to bring, so my RSVP is still free. Jean planned for over two hundred people, and only half are even coming. Are you—would you like to come?”Levi stared at him. “To your sister and best friend’s wedding?”Eren looked like he was regretting asking, but nodded.Considering, the older man nodded slowly, realizing he’d get a chance to see Eren in a nice suit and interrogate people about his past. The more he knew about him, the better, in his opinion.Eren looked amazing in a suit. Levi thought he’d look better out of it, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, so he settled with enjoying the way the shirt stuck to his chest, leaving nothing to the imagination. Thank God for rain, because it was making the shirt stick in all the best places.Levi understood halfway through the ceremony what Eren had been saying about his friend. He was the one most upset that it was raining, ruining their outdoor wedding, and halfway through the vows, the commissioner of oaths had to pause because Jean was sobbing so much he couldn’t get the words out. Mikasa just stood there holding his hands and staring at the ceiling.Levi could practically hear her thoughts of, “What the fuck am I doing marrying this moron?”At least it was entertaining to watch, and Levi was secretly pleased when the bridesmaid walking out with Eren tripped over her own feet because it caused him to clench his arm to keep her standing, giving him a nice view of those perfect biceps.His speech could’ve been better, but Levi didn’t know the bride or the groom, and they both seemed to enjoy it. Jean started crying again, and Mikasa beamed at him when he went to sit down, kissing his cheek, whispering something in his ear, and then hugging him tightly.After a few speeches, none of which Levi paid attention to, there was a slideshow the bride and groom had made for their wedding party as a thank you.Levi felt like that was exceptionally cheap and they should’ve gotten money, but Eren seemed to like it. He was beaming the whole time, and more than once, he’d burst into laughter and he and Jean started a pretend fight at the head table, pulling one another into headlocks and punching each other in the stomach lightly.Watching them made Levi feel sick to his stomach, because he was jealous of how close Eren and the groom were. They were obviously close friends, and as much as he didn’t believe in all this soulmate shit, seeing the way the bride and groom looked at one another, and the sheer envy on Eren’s face when they didn’t notice him looking...Levi wished he knew what Eren’s mark looked like. He wished he could help him find his soulmate, even if it wasn’t him. He wanted Eren to be happy, and as much as it would suck for him to be happy with someone else, at least Levi would get to see him smile.Once the food was served, it was absolute chaos in the hall. Most of the people ran for the buffet, and when the music started, everyone began to munch and mingle. Levi, being someone who was only there for Eren, was left sitting alone at his table.Alone, until Eren appeared, holding a plate, a glass of wine, and sporting rather rosy cheeks.“Someone’s been overindulging,” Levi said when Eren took a seat beside him, setting his food and drink down and picking up a stray fork to dig into his meal.“I just lost my best friend and sister at the same time, I am so allowed to get hammered,” he said, words a little slurred, but not enough to be considered completely inebriated. “‘Sides, drinks are free for the wedding party.”“That tends to be about right,” Levi said, watching him for a moment. Realizing it was weird to watch Eren chew his dinner, he began to survey the crowd instead, watching people make idiots of themselves, grinding together like they were at a club instead of in a respectable hotel’s ballroom.“You like the ceremony?” Eren asked, digging his fork into his mashed potatoes and stuffing an impressively large bite into his mouth.“It was nice,” Levi admitted. “I understand what you mean about your friend, now.”“I can’t believe he cried!” Eren exclaimed, then began to laugh, which promptly had him choking and chugging his wine to save himself.Levi just watched him, exasperated and confused. Such a moron, but so endearing. He literally could not help but love this little shit, and he wanted to take him to the coat check and do unspeakable things to him.Sometimes he had to wonder if Eren could read minds, or maybe even just his lecherous expressions, because Levi was in the middle of a rather graphic fantasy when Eren gave him a weird look and scooted his chair away just a smidge. Levi didn’t bother taking offense and turned away while Eren continued to eat.They made idle chit chat while sitting at the table together, Levi mostly asking questions about Eren’s childhood with the bride and groom. Turning it around to the newly hitched couple made it easier to ask questions without being obvious. Eren seemed happy enough to answer them, so that was a win.Around eight—and exactly five glasses of wine later—Eren interrupted Levi mid-sentence to shout that he wanted to dance and had immediately grabbed his hand. He threw off his suit jacket, the sleeve landing on someone’s discarded plate, and wrenched Levi out of his chair and onto the dancefloor in the middle of the room.The grinding, which Levi had been scoffing at earlier in the evening, was now thoroughly appreciated because Eren was so very drunk and was practically rubbing himself almost obscenely against him. Normally Levi would hate it, but this was Eren, and he would take what he could get.So he tucked his index fingers into Eren’s beltloops and tugged him closer, rocking their hips together and leaning forward so he could bite and suck along Eren’s neck.The brunet groaned, one hand buried in Levi’s hair and the other up beneath his jacket, dragging blunt nails along the back of Levi’s shirt.It was crazy. Levi never did shit like this. But Eren... fuck, he couldn’t get enough of him. And when would he ever have the chance to do this again? He was pleasantly buzzed, having indulged in a glass or two of wine himself, and Eren was rocking against him like his life depended on it. Levi wasn’t one to look a gifthorse in the mouth, he was going to ride this pony all the way home.The song changed, but Eren didn’t pull away, so Levi didn’t, either. They rocked their hips together, Levi biting a hickey into Eren’s neck, eliciting a hiss from the younger man. It was while he was in the process of trying to get a blood sample that the hand in his hair tightened and wrenched his head back.Eren’s lips were on his. The kiss was sloppy, his inexperience showing, but Levi just brought one hand up to cup his cheek and took the lead, coaxing Eren’s tongue back into his own mouth and showing him how it was done. The other’s hips stilled then, and Levi was painfully aware of how hard Eren was.Not that he wasn’t himself, but it felt so good to know he was affecting him this much. That Eren wanted him, on some level, even if he didn’t admit it to himself. Yes, it sucked that he was kind of drunk, but again: Levi would take what he could get.When they broke apart, Eren grabbed his hand and turned on his heel, yanking him along through the crowd of people. He side-stepped the groom, who had his arms wide open and was shouting his name excitedly. The man didn’t seem to mind, because he just scoffed and rolled his eyes when Levi was dragged past him.Surprisingly, they went to the coat check, which had Levi’s heart beating double-time in his chest, because his brain went back to all the fantasies he’d just been having during dinner. Sadly, he highly doubted he’d find a riding crop in the coat check and, honestly, he didn’t know that he’d have been particularly into that but the fantasy was fun.Eren shoved him back against a wall and kissed him again, this one much better than the first poor attempt. Levi fisted the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, sucking lewdly on his tongue. The experience wasn’t romantic at all. There were no soft touches, and slow explorations of each other’s bodies.This was hot, and primal, and almost desperate. Levi wanted to get as much as he could, and Eren... Levi didn’t know what Eren’s deal was, but he seemed almost more desperate than him.The older man’s hands loosened in the shirt, but only so nimble fingers could unbutton it quickly, forcing it off Eren’s shoulders and struggling to keep their lips connected while taking it off. Eren flailed his arms backwards to help, the item finally falling to the ground and allowing him to bring his hands back to Levi’s face, cupping his cheeks.Levi explored Eren’s skin, sliding up beneath the wifebeater he had on beneath his dress shirt and dragging blunt nails across his stomach. Eren’s own hands had left his face and were tugging at Levi’s shirt to untuck it from his pants, beginning to work on getting it off.While he was doing that, pale hands moved down to Eren’s belt, beginning to unbuckle it urgently.Levi was suddenly kissing air, and the belt that had been in his hands moments before was gone, Eren having lurched away from him, breathing hard and rubbing at his face.“Shit, no. No! Fuck!”“What’s wrong?” Levi demanded with a scowl, breathing faster than normal.“I can’t do this, I can’t, I—” Eren looked miserable when he finally let his hands fall from his face. “I like you. A lot. A lot. But I just—my soulmate. I can’t... do this with you. If I go too far, I feel... I’m sorry. I just—I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. I want this to be real.”“It is real!” Levi got right in his face. “Eren, I want you. I have wanted you since the first day you walked into my office. Who cares about your soulmate?” He let his hand fall against the scar on Eren’s arm, the skin burning beneath his palm. “You’ll never find them without a mark. Why waste your time? We both want this, so why not go with it?”“And then what?” Eren asked quietly. “You find your soulmate later and leave me? Or I find mine and leave you?”Levi’s jaw clenched, eyes hardening at the words. He’d never leave Eren for a soulmate. Never.He didn’t believe in that fate bullshit, he knew he loved Eren because it was what he wanted. Not because of what some stupid mark on his arm said.“Levi, I can’t. I’m sorry.”They stood in silence for a long moment, Levi’s hand still pressed against the scar on Eren’s arm. It took a considerable amount of effort, but he finally managed to pull his hand off and take a step back. Clenching his jaw, he made quick work of tucking his shirt back in and smoothed out his hair.“I should go.”Eren opened his mouth, like he was going to say something, but then seemed to think better of it and shut it once more, nodding slowly.Turning to find his coat, Levi draped it over his arm. “See you on Monday.” He turned and strode out of the coat check, heart heavy and anger boiling in his stomach.He didn’t blame Eren for this, of course not. It wasn’t his fault he was worried Levi would leave him if he found his soulmate, and it wasn’t his fault he wanted to be faithful to the one he was meant to be with.But Levi hated this. This stupid fucking existence they lived in where no one had a choice in who they could be with, because that was decided for you. Nobody could be happy with just finding the one meant for them on their own, it had to be pre-determined for them at the age of fucking thirteen.Levi didn’t often think back on the day he’d burned the mark off his arm, but in that moment, climbing into his car and peeling out of the garage, he thought about it more than ever, hating the stupid thing and wishing he’d burned the whole damn thing off.Maybe he should finish what he’d started at sixteen when he got home.In the end, Levi did not, in fact, mutilate himself upon his arrival home. He instead drank some really expensive whiskey and sat watching the Food Network until he passed out on the couch. Sunday had been an enjoyable day of working through his hangover, trying to get himself back under control for work on Monday.When it finally came, he had mixed feelings about seeing Eren, which turned out not to be a problem because the other called in sick on Monday.And Tuesday.And Wednesday.Levi wasn’t sure, but he was fairly certain Eren was avoiding him.And by “fairly certain,” he really meant “completely fucking positive.”The spineless little shit was avoiding him, and Levi was determined to call and fire him if he didn’t show up on Thursday which was why, of course, the heavens decided to grace Levi with Eren’s presence. He kept his head down, shoulders hunched while Levi passed him to enter his office, and while he wanted to be angry with him, he couldn’t find the energy. He understood what Eren was feeling, even if he disagreed with it. Not everyone was like him, hating the whole soulmates thing, and he could appreciate where Eren was coming from.Again, he didn’t agree with it, but he loved him enough to respect it.Stupid fucking emotions. Making him feel feelings!The only interactions they had that day related to work, and by the time Levi went home, Eren seemed to have relaxed around him.When morning came on Friday, Eren was almost back to normal, like their makeout session in the coat check hadn’t even happened. At least Levi could have wet dreams about it and jerk off in the shower to the memory of Eren’s moans.Which he did. Frequently. Almost an unhealthy amount, if he was honest.It was almost three in the afternoon on that same Friday that he looked up to find Hanji nearing Eren’s desk. It was odd, because they were very subdued today, and when they handed Eren a picture, they just shook their head and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Eren’s entire frame sagged, and even from behind, Levi could see how upset he was.Knowing he was going to regret it, Levi stood from his chair and moved out of his office, coming up behind Eren who was tucking the picture away in one of his notebooks.“What’s going on? No prospective soulmates today?” Levi asked, tone borderline rude.“Unfortunately not,” Hanji said with a sad sigh. “Eren showed me a picture of his mark and if his soulmate is still alive, they never registered themselves with the Marks Bureau, so it’s going to take me an eternity to find them.”Levi frowned. “Wait, I thought you didn’t have any pictures of your mark,” Levi insisted, turning to Eren, confused.“I didn’t.” He sighed, sounding like a love-sick puppy. Dammit, it was adorable, and Levi hated that he thought so. “Annie cut it off before I could get it registered, but Jean found some pictures from my birthday when we went out camping and I got the mark on my arm. He came across them when he was trying to find good ones for the slideshow and knew I’d want it. It’s the only picture I have of my mark, and I didn’t even know about it until Saturday.”“He gave it to me yesterday after work, but so far, no luck.” Hanji looked truly sorry, like they wished they could offer him better news.“Can I see it?” Levi asked, not knowing why he cared, but figuring he might as well see if any of his single friends had the same one. He’d murder them and hate them forever, but he wanted Eren to be happy, so he’d suffer if he had to.“Sure,” Eren muttered, pulling the picture out and handing it to Levi.It was small, and a little difficult to see, but when Levi brought the picture closer to his face, he felt like his brain had just shut down. He blinked once, positive he was seeing things, and then squinted, as if that would help.That mark looked suspiciously familiar.He pulled the photo away, trying to see it from another angle, and ignored the confused look he was getting from the other two.“Is your birthday March 30th?” Levi asked, distinctly remembering the date of the mark appearing on his arm.“Yeah, why?” Eren asked slowly.“You’re twenty-seven, right? Three years younger than me?”“Yeah...” The brunet still sounded confused.Levi kept staring at the picture. No way his luck was that good.“That’s impossible,” he finally said.That got Eren’s attention.“What’s impossible?” he perked up instantly. “Do you know who has it? Oh my God! Levi! Do you know who my soulmate is?!”Levi didn’t answer. He dropped the picture on the desk and immediately shrugged off his suit jacket, letting it hit the floor. Eren let out a squawk of shock and hastily bent to retrieve it before it got wrinkled, but Levi didn’t stop there.Wrenched his tie free, he threw it to the ground and hastily unbuttoned his shirt. He tore one clean off, but couldn’t find it in himself to care, heart slamming against his ribs while he ripped it off his body. He stood in his undershirt, a part of his brain enjoying the look of startled pleasure on Eren’s face at the unexpected show, and hastily picked the photo back up, turning it slightly and putting it against the half-burned mark on his arm.It was difficult to tell from the angle he was looking at it from, the unblemished portion of the mark being further away from his face, but Hanji had practically hurdled over Eren’s desk, grabbing at his arm with one hand and pulling the picture free with the other, staring back and forth between the picture and his half-destroyed mark.Eren was beside Hanji instantly, eyes wide and staring.“It’s you,” Hanji finally said after a long, tense silence. “This bottom portion is exactly the same, and everyone knows no two marks are alike, even as little as this.” They beamed at Levi. “You’re Eren’s soulmate!”There was a long silence after this proclamation, during which Eren looked pleased but also horrified, as if remembering all the things he’d said to Levi in the coat check on Saturday. Levi himself could barely hear himself think over the party that was happening in his head.His entire life, he’d hated the soulmates marks, and now here he stood, across from Eren Jaeger, who he had been in love with the moment the other had stepped into his office.Eren was his soulmate.Holy shit, Eren was his soulmate!Levi grabbed at Eren’s shirt and yanked him forcefully towards his office, ignoring the startled yelp that escaped him at the action. Pulling him into the room, he immediately turned to slam the office door in Hanji’s jubilant face, lock it, and closed the blinds.When he turned to look at Eren, the other looked partway between elation and shock. Levi hadn’t even known it was possible for someone to look both elated and shocked at the same time.“Holy shit,” Eren said quietly. “Holy shit, I can’t...”Levi strode up to him, Eren shuffling backwards until he hit the desk. Levi braced himself against it, hands on either side of the other’s body.“I hate the soulmates mark. I hate that some higher being chose who I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with. I hate that people use it as an excuse to trap others in a relationship they might not want.” He scowled. “What I don’t hate, is that I love you. And you love me. And that we had these feelings without the influence of the marks at all. You are everything I ever wanted, Eren Jaeger, and this time, you can’t escape from me with your words.”Eren stared at him for a long moment, Levi’s heart slamming in his chest and uncertainty rising in his throat.Then, Eren grinned, leaned back more cockily against the desk, and let his eyes slowly slide down to Levi’s lips before he licked his own.“I think I can handle being stuck with you, sir. After all, I can’t say I was completely innocent when I invited you to my sister and best friend’s wedding.”“Don’t call me sir,” Levi ordered, then leaned in to kiss him.Levi was not going to be able to do anything for the rest of the day.Except Eren. Man, was he ever going to fucking do Eren.Maybe this whole soulmates thing wasn’t so bad after all. END.
10182023	You Make Her Happy	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones, Veronica Lodge", "Fandom": "Riverdale (TV 2017)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by griffiee", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "591", "Additional Tags": "bughead - Freeform", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, bughead", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Veronica walked up, motioning for Jughead to move over. He looked up at him, bewildered and frowning. He was always next to Betty and he wasn’t about to give that up. Betty moved closer to him and rested her head on his chest, Veronica sitting down on her other side in defeat. Jughead kissed Betty’s forehead, analyzing Veronica and pulling Betty closer protectively.He let it go. Until the next day Veronica forced her way between them on the couch in the student lounge. Jughead huffed in annoyance, moving as far away from Veronica as possible. What was up with her?And it didn’t stop there. Anytime she saw them together, she would pull Betty away because of an “emergency” or she’d put herself between them. Jughead snapped one day when Betty was laying on him as she read and he wrote in the Blue & Gold office. Veronica rushed in, smiling and lifted Betty off of him so she was laying against her. Jughead jumped up, furious. “What the hell, Ronnie?! What’s so wrong with me being with my girlfriend?!”Veronica shrugged as Betty sat up and gently took his hands in hers, trying to calm him down. “I just think she deserves better than you.”Jughead’s face fell, and he let go of Betty’s hands. “I know she does but-but…” He couldn’t find an argument, and he ran out, disgruntled. Betty crossed her arms and turned to look at Veronica. “V, I know you mean well. But you have no right to decide who I can and can’t date. Jughead makes me happy, and you not approving doesn’t change that.”Veronica’s face fell. “B, you didn’t seem happy.”“You haven’t known me for long, Veronica. You don’t get to decide if I’m happy.” She walked away from her, following after Jughead. She found him just outside of the school, sitting on the sidewalk with his head in his hands. She cautiously sat down beside him, resting her head against him.“I’m sorry, Bets,” he mumbled, “I shouldn’t have flipped out on her. She’s your best friend, and I should respect her opinions.”Betty rubbed his back lightly. “Jughead-” he turned away. “Hey, Juggie, look at me.”He looked up, his eyes wet from his emotional breakdown. He didn’t meet her eyes. He hated being vulnerable. She knew that, so she didn’t call him out on it. Instead, she grabbed his face gently and kissed him softly. He reciprocated easily, taking comfort in her embrace and letting one of his hands cup the back of her neck to bring her lips closer to his. Betty was the one who chose to break the kiss, not straying far and letting her forehead rest against him. “I love you. You know that, right?”Jughead nodded, his eyes closed as he wrapped his arms around her to hug her close. “I love you too. I’m sorry I let Veronica get to me.”The next day, Veronica made her way over to Betty’s locker, handing her some flowers. “I’m sorry I doubted your relationship.” She looked up and noticed Jughead, who had his hand on Betty’s shoulder. “You make her happy. I’m sorry I didn’t notice it before.”Jughead smiled a little, and Betty squeezed the hand on her shoulder fondly. “It’s okay. I’m just happy Bets here thinks I’m good enough for her.”Betty blushed and took his hand to kiss his palm. “We’ll be at Pop’s tonight with Kevin,” she told Veronica, “You can come if you want?”Veronica smiled. “I’ll be there.”
10162793	Team Spirit	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy, Voldemort", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by sanjart", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2008-07-01T00:00:00", "words": "1,627", "Additional Tags": "Spoilers, Alternate Universe, Drama, Pre-Slash", "Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	A/N: Hi! This is my very first fic so I would greatly appreciate any comments. It has been beta'd (thank you Negani and Nathaniel bows), any remaining mistakes are my own.The story is post-HBP AU.Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and plots from the Harry Potterverse belong to JK Rowling and various publishing companies and movie studios. I am not making any money from this. Team Spirit “… James Potter!”“OI!”Ron’s yell in his ear brought him back to Hogwarts, Scotland, UK, Earth.“What?! I was concentrating like you said, Hermione.” It ticked him off the way they were looking at him with that exasperated disapproval as if they had a million better things to do than waiting around for him to concentrate.“No, Harry. You’re missing the point. Concentrating does not equal zoning out. Focus, for Merlin’s sake!”Gods, these after curfew Animagus lessons were starting to eerily resemble Snape’s Occlumnecy training. And they gave just about as much results as well. Ron and Hermione had completed their transformations weeks ago, an endless string of frustrating unproductive nights ago. How gleeful Snape would be if he could see Potter’s son now, stuck in his scrawny human James-like-with-Lily’s-eyes un-Harry form. He tried and tried to meld with the image of the bloody lion he was supposed to shift into but all his efforts had as much effect as trying to connect two magnets of the same pole. Incompatible.“Forget it. Let’s go down to the kitchens for a midnight snack and call it a night.” Ron declared walking through the door, Hermione huffed and followed while Harry sighed and stared at himself in the mirror. Incompatible. With his true but ill-fated House, with his actual but ill-fitting Gryffindor House, with Cho, Ginny, the Weasleys, Dumbledore, with his name, with the Killing Curse. For some reason whenever he dared to contemplate his life Snape and Draco Malfoy appeared in his minds eye. The two loathsome treacherous cowards would sit contentedly in a comfortable sitting room of one of their manors, happy smirks, glasses of firewhisky and all, discussing his fucked up life, jeers, cackles and derisive snorts echoing in their crystal goblets, thundering in his ears. The former Professor and year mate of his daymare were carefree and happy in their sneering snarling sort of way. And in the depths of the conscious mind were the light of reason rarely shines he was happy for them and himself. At least someone was having fun in these days of dwindling light and discord; at least in someone’s life he was bringing laughter instead of danger, despair and death. He snorted to himself as he was catching up with his friends, the Three Ds of Harry Potter. Yes, in his freakish way he was happy for his imaginary Snape and Malfoy – he preferred thinking about them having a laugh at his expense than acting out the more sinister scenarios the Order reports alluded to. §§§~§§§ Due to the meditation techniques he was practicing for the Animagus transformation and the harsh reality he was dealing with every day Harry found himself losing focus on his surroundings at the few times his attention was not needed for one crisis or another. No matter how minute every situation was a crisis these days. He understood people were nervous with the war raging just beyond the castle walls but their need to transfer the general fear and urgency to meeting essay length requirements and NEWT revision was driving him up the many Hogwarts’s walls. He was sitting with the Griffindors, waiting for the evening meal to appear. He’d wandered off into a state of being where blinking became optional and the sight before his eyes overlapped with the pictures his mind conjured up from its depths. Snape’s empty chair stigmatised forever or at least for now, lowered heads at the Slytherin table. He so wanted to genuinely scowl at someone but Malfoy was far away, not gloating over Harry’s fate. He was rising and falling on the waves of sound, the hum of distant conversations whispering in his ear, when an unidentified flying object shot at him from the Ravenclaw table. The hand of the Seeker dutifully intercepted it and Harry found himself in The Graveyard clutching a Remembrall in his hand. §§§~§§§“Harry James Potter.”He watched as the red smoke in the Remembrall cleared – ah, yes, constant vigilance, that’s what he’d forgotten! – then focused on the red eyes of Tom Riddle. “Tom Marvolo Riddle. How disgusting to see you again.”The world was in sharp focus now. The washed out colours of dusk, the deep black Death Eaters’ cloaks, the chime carried by the evening breeze as the church clock struck eight, the rushed beats of his heart. He dropped the globe to the ground and his wand in his hand. A patronising chuckle. “You won’t be needing that, boy.”Anger flared in his chest and he glared at his would-be-murderer with all his might, thus never sensing the one who immobilised him from behind and snatched his wand from now frozen fingers. Shocked and enraged Harry stared into the silver eyes of Draco Malfoy, who appeared before him, heavily violating his personal space. Finally, he scowled freely and ferociously as he locked eyes with the serious and haunted gaze of his would-be-friend. Malfoy, with the haughty scowl firmly in place, slowly lifted Harry’s wand until it gently lay horizontally between his bony fingers in their line of sight. The trio seemed to hover in time then disgust distorted a handsome face and disbelief widened sad eyes, just as terror froze the serpent’s heart and a silent scream cracked his mind. Skin, wood, pressure. Pressure, pressure … Snap. Silence, finality; I can’t believe you did that, I can’t believe I did that … Violent cheers erupted and life went on while they swallowed tears. With his gaze still anchored in Harry’s eyes he took blind steps back then turned in a swirl of robes and dropped to his knees before Lord Voldemort, silently offering the broken wand with a bowed head. The Dark Lord embarked on a victorious speech of supremacy but Harry was in too much of a turmoil to process what he was saying. Shaken and oddly detached, he watched Draco take his place next to Snape, who was in the honourable spot of closest servitude on Riddle’s right. The observed look of crippling humiliation met by hard acceptance and endurance in the black eyes of the Head of House brought upon an epiphany that at last solved Harry Potter’s life-long identity crisis. From day 566 of his existence this had been his life. And these were the people with whom he truly shared it. The phoenix wand had been broken and with it his bond to both Tom and Albus. First name basis between closest enemies. He focused his now clear eyes on Snape’s, which softened to silent acknowledgement, then shifted his gaze to Draco. He was less subtle as myriad of expressions crossed his features – corrosive misery, surprise, hesitant hope then defeated anguish. “… not use the Killing Curse but annihilate you with the Curse of Light. Quite fitting, I think.” A wink – sheer astonishment. Unbearably white light shot from Voldemort’s wand. Everyone flinched away blinded but before they could shield their eyes, darkness was back with a vengeance. They blinked away the white dots dancing in their fields of vision and at very long last saw the so desired sight or lack thereof – Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, was no more and all was well. Where he had stood now gaped a straight nearly 200 yards long line of missing tombstones. Deafening roars of victory, vaporised flesh and marble and above it all the maniacal laugh of a megalomaniac who finally got his way. One by one, they silently Disapparated, and all that was left were the rapidly fading echoes in the night. §§§~§§§Dawn broke into a day barely brighter than the fleeing night. The lonely graveyard was once again visited by figures cloaked in black, but this time only two came. Why? To burry the past or perhaps the future, to say goodbye to a found boy or to their own names behind the masks, to ensure they never forget or to try and forget the Before, to bemoan his death or their survival?Here, right here, everything had ended and the end had begun. They glared at the vibrant grass completely unaffected by the sizzling force of destruction that had raged mere inched above it. The green glared back. They glanced at each other and peered closer. Amidst the blades of grass lay a very still black snake. Under the watchful black eyes a pair of trembling hands reached down and gently lifted the cold body. Snape waved his wand over the serpent for several long moments then snorted, muttered, “Only you” and finished his quiet chanting with “Finite Incantatem.” The snake’s smooth skin immediately rippled with the contractions of powerful muscles along the entire body. He wrapped himself around Draco’s warm arm and lifted his head. Draco tried to scowl at another of Harry’s super-narrow logic-defying escapes from the throat of Death, but only managed to grin and role his eyes at the cuddling snake. Harry transformed back to his human form smirking smugly, his eyes shining brightly with satisfaction and gazed into the grey eyes that were the key to his destruction and salvation. “If you two are quite finished making eyes at each other, I suggest we leave this cursed place.” Snape sneered at the boys, but there was a new light hidden in his customary glare. Two unrepentant smirks later, the three Slytherins Disapparated with a distinct sense of espirit de corps. The End
10189211	unknown	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": null, "Language": null, "Rating": null, "author": null, "chapters": null, "completed": null, "published": null, "words": null, "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }
10137488	Just a Shag	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Adavisa", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2014-01-01T00:00:00", "words": "459", "Additional Tags": "Slash sex, Sexual Content, Angst, Tragedy", "Relationship": "Lucius Malfoy/Harry Potter", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. He stared, panting, as the blonde haired god walked away from him and gathered his clothes. It was always this way. A brilliant shag and the Slytherin would shower and go back to his family. There were never loving words murmured, never a show of love but he’d taken what he could get for the past 10 years. They’d met the first time at Hogwarts, when he was but a child. They’d bumped into each other again in the ministry of magic, where they’d ended up shagging quickly in a deserted men’s washroom. Ever since that day in the ministry it had been like this. He’d floo in for a fantastic shag and then cast a cleansing charm, gather his clothes, dress, and walk right back out the floo. Less than an hour together and his heart would break just a bit more.Finally after 10 years, he’d had enough.“Stop,” he called out.His platinum haired god turned and looked at him. “What is it Harry?” He asked impatiently.Harry got up from the bed and moved to stand in front of him. “We started out as a quick shag in a washroom, but I’ve been in love with you for at least the past 9 years. You can’t tell me that you don’t feel anything for me. You can’t tell me that this has been nothing but sex for you for the past 10 years.”The blonde sneered. “Potter, you’ve been nothing but my toy. I’m sorry that your life is so pathetic that a quick shag a couple of times a week has caused you to fall in love with me, but I assure you that there is no reciprocation to your feelings. Goodnight” his lover said, as he flooed away, for what he didn’t know would be the last time.Harry sat on the floor, against the wall, crying as he summoned his straight razor from the bathroom. He slid the sharp blade down the vein in his arm from his wrist to his elbow and as the blood pooled on the floor he dipped his finger into his own blood and wrote his last words on the wall before he passed out.Three days later when Hermione became worried and let herself through Harry’s floo to check on him after he’d not answered her or Ron’s calls, she saw his pale, lifeless body, and the message he’d left for all to see. Luc, it was never just a shag
10131935	Far Longer Than Forever	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Darth Revan, Bastila Shan", "Fandom": "Star Wars - All Media Types", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by AdorableDoom", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "826", "Additional Tags": "Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death", "Relationship": "Darth Revan/Bastila Shan", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	There's a dream Bastila has sometimes. Not every night but every so often, maybe more now that she's gotten older. "I'm getting old," Revan would sigh from time to time, morosely fingering the strands of silver that had cropped up in her dark mess of hair. Strands that no one would have even noticed had she not pointed them out. Bastila had rolled her eyes, looping her arms around Revan's waist and resting her chin on her wife's shoulder. She could still feel the warmth of her. Even all these years later. "Oh yes," she had agreed solemnly, "you're positively ancient." Revan had shot her a half hearted glare which Bastila had kissed away. Revan had never gotten old. Sometimes Bastila tried to image her as an old woman but finds that she can't. In the dream she's standing in the doorway of the little house on Talravin where she had raised her son. Their son. Talravin was a quiet little place. Painfully dull. As a child, Bastila had longed to be somewhere else, anywhere else. Afterwards, Bastila found she liked the quiet. "Bastila!" a joyful voice called out. And there, standing near the low garden wall, dark hair shining in the brilliant afternoon sun and her dark eyes bright with laughter and joy was Revan. The hero. The traitor. The villain. The savior. Revan. Her Revan. Returned to her at last. She's smiling, arms outstretched. Bastila runs to her, half blinded by tears of joy. Revan catches her easily enough, sweeps Bastila up off the ground and spins her around the way she had often done all those years ago. Bastila clings to her, locking her arms around Revan's neck. Terrified that if she let go for even a moment her wife would disappear. Revan kisses her like the world is ending. It was how she did everything. Desperate, passionate, as if the universe was waiting in the wings for the chance to snatch her happiness away. "Where have you been?" Bastila half sobbed when they broke apart at last. Revan opened her mouth to say something only to close it and shake her head. "It doesn't matter now," she always said in the dream. "I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere. I promise." And each time, Bastila woke alone. This time, however, the dream is different. It starts the same way. Bastila standing in the doorway. Revan standing near the low garden wall, beaming at her. Waiting for her. Bastila runs into her arms and Revan catches her as she always did. When they finally pull apart from each other without ever really leaving the other's embrace, Revan thumbs Bastila's tears away. "It's time to go now," Revan said, her voice strange. Sorrowful almost. Regretful. Go? Bastila wants to say. Time to go where? She wants to ask these things. She should ask these things. She does not ask these things. Revan is right, she knows. Although how Bastila knows this, much less what exactly it is that she knows, she couldn't say. It is time for her to go. Bastila nodded, letting Revan link their arms together. Revan was smiling at her, beaming warmly and welcomingly though her eyes seemed sad. She often smiled like that at the end. Together, the two of them make their way down the small winding path leading them away from the garden. Away from the house. The house. Vaner. It seemed absurd the thought hadn't occurred to Bastila before now. She couldn't leave, they couldn't leave. How could they possibly leave Vaner? And Emess? And Bress? And little Reesa? How could they just leave without . . . . "They'll be fine," Revan promised, inclining her head to rest her scarred cheek atop Bastila's head. She had never slowed her pace. Neither for that matter, had Bastila. "They'll understand and they'll be fine." And just as she knows it's time for her to go, Bastila knows that those words are true as well. They'll be fine. Vaner, who was so much like the mother he had never known. Vaner who was the very best of both of them. Emess, whom Bastila loved liked her own daughter. Laughing Bress and smiling little Reesa. They would be fine. It was time for her to go. It was time for them to go. Bastila wrapped her arm around Revan's waist while the latter's arm curled around her shoulders as they walked. She had waited so long. So very long. "I've missed you so much," Bastila said softly. Revan tightened her grip on her wife. "I know. I know and I'm so sorry but we're together now. And we always will be," Revan said with such certainty that it might have been almost comical if she wasn't so damned serious. And that was true too. They had lost so much. Lost so many people. Had even lost each other. Not now. And not ever again. They had found each other again. One last time.
10138817	How do you get that	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Mistress Vamp [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2006-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "921", "Additional Tags": "Out of Character, Alternate Universe, Angst, Tragedy", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Disclaimer: JKR owns the "Harry Potter" fandom. Lyrics belong to Blaine Larsen and Inc. Song is "How do you get that Lonely?" off of Blaine's debut album, 'Off to Join the World.' Copyright infringement not intended. I am merely using the characters and lyrics for my own pleasures. Please don't sue. I have nothing to give. Feedback: Please be honest, but please don't be cruel. Constructive criticism is acceptable, but flaming is not.Authoress Notes: This isn't beta-read. All mistakes are mine. Thanks to Dru for the support. She's my rock when everything sinks. This is just a fic that was in my head when I heard this song.Word Count: 547 ((Does not include – symbols, lyrics, or 'The End'))Written on: March 10, 2005--------------------[It was just another story written on the second pageUnderneath the Tiger's football scoreIt said he was only eighteen, a boy about my ageThey found him face down on the bedroom floor]No one would ever know the reason he had taken his life. No one could understand why he had done it, why he had chosen this road instead of trying to live. No one would ever see the reason behind the tears, the pain, the cuts, the sneer, the scowl...no one would ever see the real reason that made him who he was. He knew. Only he knew and now, he was dead. He had taken the only way out he believed he had. Was he right? Only he would know. Others could judge him and pretend they knew the answers, but they never would. No one would ever see beyond his features. No one took enough time to look behind the eyes. If they did, they would have seen the struggle, the pain, the fear, and the despair...the pleading. If only they had looked deeper, then maybe, just maybe, he would have found grace. [There'll be services on Friday at the Lawrence Funeral HomeThen out on Mooresville highway, they'll lay him 'neath a stone...] His friends gathered around the grave as they laid his body to rest. A prayer was whispered for him, yet no one really believed he deserved peace in the other world. He deserved what he done, some would say. He would never admit to someone that he had secretly feared death. He feared it, yet at the same time, he welcomed it. Anything, to him, was better then living. He had wanted it for so long, yet no one gave much look to him or what he wanted. The perfect son. The perfect servant. The perfect boyfriend. The perfect friend. The perfect student. Just...perfect. [How do you get that lonely, how do you hurt that badTo make you make the call, that havin' no life at allIs better than the life that you hadHow do you feel so empty, you want to let it all goHow do you get that lonely... and nobody know] He hid his pain well. So well that no one believed him when he would scream. Or cry. Or shatter anything in his presence. Or take out his anger on those weaker then him just to prove a point. No one looked beneath the mask. No one cared. He had no one. He had no hopes, no dreams, and no belief in a future for himself or others. He had nothing, but fears of what was to come. Fear of being alone, of dying, of it all ending and beginning just mock him in any way it knew how. All he wanted was to be loved, but he always knew whatever he wanted, he would never have. [Did his girlfriend break up with him, did he buy or steal that gun?Did he lose a fight with drugs or alcohol?Did his Mom and Daddy forget to say I love you son?Did no one see the writing on the wall? I'm not blamin' anybody, we all do the best we canI know hindsight's 20/20, but I still don't understand...] One man knew why it all ended up the way that it did. He had all the answers, yet he didn't have the right key. He had thought he had helped, yet he was foolish enough to believe when it was said all was right in the world. He should have looked closer. If he did, then maybe his love would still be alive. He doubted himself, his lover, and their relationship. It was he that had pushed the other to the breaking point. He knew how it all happened. He had been warned, yet, he took the chances and now, without anything, but regret, he stood alone. [How do you get that lonely, how do you hurt that badTo make you make the call, that havin' no life at allIs better than the life that you hadHow do you feel so empty, you want to let it all goHow do you get that lonely... and nobody know] He felt the rain pour down upon him as he looked at the tomb, ignoring the gravedigger as he filled the hole with dirt. His dark blue eyes were now empty and they no longer held anything inside. He had risked it all and he had lost. He took one final look then turned and left, his eyes forward and never looking back. [It was just another story printed on the second pageUnderneath the Tiger's football score...]--------------------The End.
10168280	My Knight in Shining	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Jeon Jungkook, Kim Taehyung \| V, Min Yoongi \| Suga, Park Jimin (BTS), Kim Seokjin \| Jin, Kim Namjoon \| Rap Monster, Jung Hoseok \| J-Hope", "Fandom": "방탄소년단 \| Bangtan Boys \| BTS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-07T00:00:00", "words": "2,595", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe, Clubbing, to be honest the characters other than taehyung and jungkook are barely mentioned sorry, Fluff", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung \| V, Min Yoongi \| Suga/Park Jimin", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Jimin's ideas are always terrible. Admittedly, Taehyung knows this and should have taken it into account before agreeing to anything, but when Jimin had insisted that going clubbing to distract Taehyung from how his professor failed his midterm (that he worked really hard for, to make matters worse) would make him feel a million times better, it honestly seemed like a good idea. “We won't stay out too late anyway,” Jimin reassured him while shimmying into the tightest pair of jeans Taehyung had ever seen, after Taehyung had voiced his concerns about work the next morning. “Besides, it's not like your boss has never seen you hungover before, right?” That should have been a red flag, but Taehyung pushed those thoughts aside and alternated between his bedroom and the bathroom for the next hour as Jimin chattered away about how tonight was gonna be great, and how Taehyung looked hot (“Dude, you should really wear those leather pants more often, every time you wear them you have people checking you out left, right and centre.”), and how he was such a great friend for suggesting that they go out and that Taehyung would be thanking him later. Taehyung zoned out for most of it, giving appropriately enthusiastic responses where necessary but mainly focusing on getting his eyeliner right because there's a fine line between looking sexy and sultry and looking like a damn raccoon, a mistake he'd made many times in high school. Soon enough, they were both ready to go out. Taehyung made sure he had his phone, keys and wallet before shrugging into a jacket. It was only October, but there was still a pretty strong nip in the air that glumly reminded him that summer was well over. “So we're picking Yoongi up on the way, and we're meeting Seokjin and Namjoon there,” Jimin said as they made their way out of their shared apartment and down the street. There was a Friday night buzz in the air, and Taehyung could see other college students on their way to a similar destination, some of them already off their heads after pre-gaming a bit too much. “Just hold off on sucking face with your boyfriend until after we get in,” Taehyung said sarcastically. Jimin flipped him off, but there was no real venom behind the gesture. In reality, Taehyung thought Jimin and Yoongi were good for each other, even if they were a bit heavy on the PDA sometimes. His crazy best friend never failed to make Yoongi smile, something Taehyung still failed at frequently (and often received a glare or a smack when he went a bit over the top trying). They met Yoongi a few minutes away from the club (and no, Jimin didn't even try to hold off), and the thrum of music that grew louder as they approached sent a thrill of excitement through Taehyung. It had been too long since he'd gone out with his friends and he had already forgotten about his stupid professor and that stupid midterm as they drew closer to the front of the queue. After another ten minutes, they were in the building. The pulsing bass and flashing lights hit him the second he stepped inside, and the dozens of sweaty bodies on the dancefloor beckoned to him to join them. He could already feel himself getting drunk on the atmosphere, not even having consumed a drop of alcohol. Yet. Jimin grabbed onto his arm and dragged him through the tightly packed crowd towards the bar. Taehyung sat down at the bar and ordered a screwdriver before pulling out his phone to let Seokjin know they were there. Jimin tapped him on the shoulder and leaned in close to his ear. “Hey, me and Yoongi are gonna dance now, wanna come with?” Jimin had to raise his voice considerably to be heard over the loud music, and the volume would have made Taehyung wince had he not been so used to it. He considered for a couple of seconds before shaking his head. “Nah, I'm not drunk enough for that yet.” He raised his half empty glass and swirled it around a bit. “I'll be here though, if you're looking for me. Don't have too much fun!” Jimin just laughed and gave an exaggerated wink before grabbing onto his boyfriend's wrist and disappearing amongst the crowd. Taehyung knew that within two minutes they'd be dry humping on the dance floor, and shuddered at the mental image. That was something he hoped would be burned out of his mind by the end of the night. He lost track of how long he was sitting at the bar for. Seokjin never got back to him- he probably had his phone on silent, like always. He was frustratingly difficult to reach. He and Jimin confronted him about it once, but then Seokjin threatened to never cook for them again if they didn't stop bugging him, which shut the two students up quickly. Taehyung knew there was no point in even trying Namjoon, but he shot him a quick text anyway in the off chance he actually had his phone with him. Taehyung ordered a second drink and sighed, starting to regret coming out. It would have been great if he was with his friends, or even a hot stranger, but right now he could be home taking a nice bath and listening to music, making use of the rarely empty apartment, instead of sitting at a bar like a loner. It's not like he hadn't gotten any offers- there had been several heavy-lidded gazes from across the bar, fingers brushing along his shoulders or lips across his ears from men and women alike- but honestly he wasn't really feeling it, turning down every advance with a shake of his head. The more time passed, the more bored and restless he got. The pounding music was suddenly unbearable, and the heat was getting to him. After he finished his third drink, Taehyung decided to just throw in the towel and leave. He could just text Jimin that he went home, and just enjoy the rest of his evening. It was too late at this stage for a bath, but he could get some study done and clean the kitchen and crash fairly early (as in, like, 3 am). He pulled out his phone to let Jimin know he was leaving, but just as he was about to hit send he felt a heavy hand drop on his shoulder, gripping on almost painfully. Taehyung's head shot up so fast that he nearly gave himself whiplash, and his mouth felt dry when he saw a man looming over him. He was well over 6 foot wth a strong build, and from the looks of it had been drinking heavily. There was a cocky smirk on his face as he looked down at Taehyung. “Hey babe, what are you doing sitting all alone?” The man's hot breath hit Taehyung square in the face, and he recoiled as the smell of vodka hit him. “Why don't you come with me instead and we'll have a little fun, huh? How about it?” Taehyung started to panic. The man's grip had slid down to his bicep and tightened considerably, to the point where it would definitely leave bruises in the morning. “Uh, I'm sorry, I can't, I'm waiting for someone,” Taehyung stuttered, saying the first thing that popped into his head. That didn't go down well with the man, and he grimaced. “Eh, forget about 'em. You don't need 'em, you're with me now. I'm parked just down the street, let's go.” He tugged on Taehyung's arm, and he was too strong for Taehyung to just slip away from his grip. “I really can't, I need to be going now,” Taehyung insisted. In a fit of inspiration, he furtively tried to call Jimin's contact as he was speaking, but his aggressor noticed the motion of his hands and any trace of jokingness disappeared from his demeanour as he wrapped his other hand around the hand Taehyung was clutching his phone with. “Hey, bitch, what do you think y're doing, huh? Do you think you're too good for me? Is that it?” A cold bead of sweat rolled down Taehyung's face as he began to feel genuinely worried about his situation, the rage written on the man's face plain as day. Maybe he could get security's attention somehow? But how? Taehyung was almost at the point of tears and he wished that Jimin would suddenly appear beside him and kick the guy's ass. Going out was all his idea anyway, so this situation was basically his fault. Taehyung was trying to plot all the different ways he was going to murder Jimin- one of which involved a spoon and a cactus- when, with a jolt, he felt an arm wrap around his waist and pull him close. Taehyung, for the second time that night, nearly gave himself whiplash as he turned to look at whoever just did pretty much the last thing he was expecting in this situation, and immediately had the breath knocked out of him. The man holding him against his chest was glaring at the guy who still had his hands all over Taehyung, who looked totally dumbfounded, much like Taehyung. The stranger had dark hair and eyes and was about Taehyung's height, except unlike Taehyung he was made up of totally lean muscle that Taehyung could feel against his body. He also happened to be the most beautiful person Taehyung had ever seen, which really should have been the last thing on Taehyung's mind at that moment but he had never been good at controlling his reactions to things. “Hey babe, is this guy giving you trouble?” the stranger asked, finally looking at Taehyung, and Taehyung nearly fainted at the intensity of his gaze. Taehyung stared at him for a couple of seconds, struck dumb, and the stranger widened his eyes as if to say play along, idiot. Taehyung mentally shook himself and snapped out of his daze. “Oh babe, I'm so glad to see you,” Taehyung said shakily, and after a beat pushed closer into the stranger's chest. He wasn't sure if this was taking things too far, but he figured that he might as well make the best of this situation (and this guy's pecs). The dark haired man took it in his stride and wrapped his other arm around Taehyung protectively as he shifted his gaze back towards the drunken guy, who looked very unsure at this stage. “Take your hands off my boyfriend, asshole. And don't let me catch you around here again,” the dark haired man spat, and although he was smaller than the other guy, there was something his stance, the way he spoke, that made the other guy back off, muttering obsceneties under his breath as he stumbled back into the crowd. Taehyung's knees buckled as soon as he was out of eyeshot, and luckily the stranger's arms were still around him to steady him as the realisation of what just happened hit him. “Hey, hey look at me,” a gentle voice said, and Taehyung slowly lifted his head up to meet the stranger's gaze. He blushed immediately, realising how close they were. The other man didn't seem to notice, looking into Taehyung's eyes with worry. “Are you okay?” Taehyung let out a shaky breath. “Dude, you totally just saved my ass.” The two of them laughed at that, Taehyung's slightly higher-pitched due to nerves. It was at that moment that the man seemed to realise that he was still embracing Taehyung, and let go quickly. It was difficult to tell because of the lights, but his face looked slightly flushed, although it could have been down to alcohol or the heat. The man stuck his hand out suddenly. “Jeon Jungkook,” he said, in a way which was laughably formal considering what had just happened. Taehyung giggled and took his outstretched hand. “Kim Taehyung. Dude seriously, thank you so much, I have no idea what I would have done if you weren't here.” “Oh my god, it's no problem, seriously,” Jungkook insisted, waving his hands as if to emphasise his point. “I was just worried that I made it weird, like, I wasn't really sure what I was walking in on, so that could have gone, like, a totally different way.” Jungkook let out a breathy laugh that made the corners of his eyes crinkle up, and oh my god he's gorgeous, and- “Do you want to get out of here?” Taehyung blurted out. Jungkook's eyes widened in shock and, ok, that was definitely a blush spreading across his face, and Taehyung realised how that must have sounded. He clapped his hands over his mouth, his own face turning tomato-red. “N-not like that! I mean, like I was going to leave before, you know, that happened, and then you showed up and now you're here, do you wanna get ice cream?” Taehyung shut himself up before he could ramble any more, and stared at his feet in shame. Why did you say that, stupid?!, he berated himself. You finally met a cute guy who's quite literally perfect, and you have to scare him off within the first five minutes! After a couple of moments, Taehyung dared to sneak a peek at Jungkook from under his lashes. He was expecting to see discomfort, even contempt, but instead saw Jungkook's body shaking with silent laughter. His eyes were screwed shut as if Taehyung had just said the funniest thing ever, and Taehyung felt a spark of hope, even amidst the mortification. “Don't laugh, oh my god!” Taehyung groaned, hiding his face behind his hands. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” Jungkook giggled, wiping a stray tear from his eyes as he looked Taehyung in the eyes again. “That was just so freakin' cute, I couldn't help myself.” Taehyung flushed again, and he playfully glared at Jungkook. “So? Do you wanna come with me? Because if you don't I'll just go on my own.” He hoped Jungkook couldn't tell how embarrassed he was. “Yeah, for sure, I just need to find my friend first to let him know I'm leaving.” Taehyung's heart soared, and he couldn't help beaming at Jungkook, who responded with a slightly bemused, but equally bright smile. Jungkook loosely wrapped his fingers around Taehyung's wrist and they braved the crowd again. “Hoseok hyung? Hyung, there you are I- oh, oh wow, I did not need to see that, ok, you know what, bye.” Taehyung barely got a glimpse of who he was talking to before he was dragged away by a slightly green Jungkook. “But aren't you going to tell him that you're leaving?” Taehyung asked him when they got outside. “I'll just text him,” was all he got in reply. After no small amount of searching, they did manage to find an ice cream place that was open so late. Taehyung slides into the booth opposite Jungkook, and they talk for hours. Conversation flows easily between the two of them, and Taehyung finds himself opening up easily to the other man. And in return, Taehyung learns about Jungkook. He learns that Jungkook has an older brother, and that he loves basketball but hates getting up early, and that he's loyal to a fault, and that his laughs are often, and genuine. (And maybe, a bit later, Taehyung learns that his lips taste like chocolate ice cream.) (And maybe, he thinks he should thank Jimin.)
10173713	Comfort in the Dark	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Wally West, Dick Grayson, Kon-El \| Conner Kent, Kaldur'ahm (DCU), Artemis Crock, M'gann M'orzz", "Fandom": "Young Justice - All Media Types", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by ImaKaraTabiHe", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "2,980", "Additional Tags": "migraines, Pain, Sickfic, Hyperactive Metabolism, Speedster Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship", "Relationship": "Wally West & Dick Grayson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Speedster Family", "Collections": "I Laughed-- I Cried-- It Moved Me Man", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Speedsters inherently love going fast. Feeling the Speed Force rippling over their bodies – it felt like the wind sometimes, washing over them, enveloping them. It was such a wonderful feeling. There was nothing like going fast.They love going fast, yet sometimes… sometimes they just want to go slow. Speed is great and all, but there are things you just shouldn't do fast. Like eat cake or hang out with your friends/loved ones. Going slow is all about savoring what they love with who they love.Still, there are times when they're too tired to go fast, times when they're stuck being slow. That happens for several reasons, one of which is being cold, and another of which, is being hungry. No one can go fast hungry without pushing themselves to the limits, Speedster or not.Problem is that when Wally gets hungry and worn out, he gets migraines.The migraines aren't terribly bad, for the most part. It's not like medicine can help, so that's good. Everything just becomes… worse, really.It's like every sound is amplified, every light is brighter, and nothing helps. Pain stretches across his frontal lobe, settling in around his forehead and dipping down to repeatedly stab at his left eye. Thinking seems to make it worse sometimes, but with his mind, he just can't seem to stop.Crying, oh boy – crying is terrible. It makes Wally's head pound like he's been thrown into a building and cracked his head on bricks. But the pain can be so bad that he just wants to let it out, let the tears fall. He has to stop himself from crying, because it'll only get worse if he does.The problem with being run down, hungry, and having a migraine, is that sometimes the pain makes him nauseous. It makes his stomach roll so much until sometimes he throws up any liquid he's managed to drink. Having migraines sucks as much for the average person as it does for a Speedster. Hero or not, they hurt.Sometimes the only thing to do is grab a cold or warm clothe and get some sleep in a pitch black, quiet room.Which is why Wally finds himself marching into the kitchen of Mt. Justice, eyes narrowed as he tries to keep the bright light from hitting them. His left eye throbs making him hiss and put a hand over it, hiding it from the well lit room. His free hand pulls the freezer open and grabs an ice pack.Without removing his hand from his eye, he sets the ice pack down and pulls out a towel, wrapping the ice pack in it to keep it from being painfully cold. The last thing he needs is more pain. Hopefully the cold will help or else he'll be dipping a clothe in some warm water.“Hey, Walls.” Wally grimaces at the voice and turns, letting his hand fall. He doesn't want anyone to see him struggling. He never does.“Dick,” Wally exclaims, putting on a strained smile, “what's up?”Dick frowns, examining him, the ice pack wrapped in a towel, and Wally's pale complexion. “We're going to watch movies. What do you wanna watch?”Bright, flickering light in dark room? That's the last thing he needs right now. “I'm actually kind of tired, so I'm going to take a nap, but you guys have fun.” Taking the ice pack in his hand, Wally fled, trying not to run from the light. Dick watched Wally go, brows furrowing as he thought. Wally seemed tired, pale, and shaky. The ice pack he'd grabbed was one of the many that they'd taken to keeping at the mountain for wounds sustained during missions or injuries. Wally hadn't been injured in the latest mission, so why did he have one?Logically speaking, Speedsters recovered a lot faster than normal humans, so any wounds should've healed up quickly. 'But he didn't even notice the cookies on the counter,' Dick noted with a frown. In fact, the Speedster hadn't even given them a glance.Walking back into the living room, he heard the team talking about which genre movie they should watch. Well, technically, it was Artemis and M'gann talking about it. Conner seemed uninterested. Kaldur looked polite and willing to settle for whichever they decided.“Hey, Robin, do you think we should watch action or rom-com?” Artemis asked, looking up at him when he walked into the room.Dick blinked, broken out of his concerns. “What about adventure? After Earth is pretty good. It's got aliens, sci-fi, action, adventure...” He looked at M'gann and gave her a smile. “It's about a father and son who get stranded on Earth in the future after the humans had to abandon it. Basically, they try to survive in the new environment and become closer to one another.”M'gann nodded, thoughtfully.“Sounds good, Robs,” Artemis said.“Where's Wally? Isn't he going to be joining us?” Kaldur inquired, eyes roaming around to find the door.“Actually, he didn't seem to be feeling well,” Dick admitted. “Does anyone know if he ate when we got back?” Everyone shrugged, uncertain. It seems like no one had paid enough attention. Dick didn't like that at all. Not one bit. There was something wrong, and Dick was going to find out what. He hoped.Walking over to Wally's door, he knocked just loud enough to be heard. Dick wasn't really sure why he didn't knock louder. It was a gut feeling. “Wally?” he questioned, listening as only silence answered him. “Are you okay?” No response.Frowning, Dick quickly entered Wally's code. Knowing each other's room codes was the advantage to having been friends for years. They both never used it unless it was an emergency, or if asked to. Dick was going to count this as an emergency. Having Wally not answer in five minutes was worrisome.When the door slid open, Dick could see very little. The only light was from the hallway, spilling into Wally's room and revealing the foot of Wally's bed as it shone in. Squinting, he could barely make out a lump under the covers.“Wally?” he whispered, hesitant to barge in.A groan made him freeze. “Wally? Are you okay?” Dick softly asked.“'m fine, Dick,” Wally mumbled, shifting under the blankets a bit to keep his eyes shaded from the light. “Perfectly fine.”It was obvious that Wally didn't want to continue the conversation, but Dick needed to know why. He wasn't about to go away without making sure that Wally didn't need medical attention. Flash would kill him if he left Wally injured.“You're obviously not fine,” Dick replied, folding his arms over his chest. “If you were, you'd be in there watching a movie with the team.”Wally moans, pulling the covers over his head. “No,” he replies petulantly.Dick raised an eyebrow. “No?”“I'm fine,” Wally insisted, silently swearing that he hated light at the moment. “Just go have fun with them, Dick. Don't want to miss movie night.”“I've seen it,” Dick replied, blunt. Sighing, he padded over to the bed, letting the doors close behind him. Carefully, he sat on Wally's bed. “Please, Wally? What's wrong?”Wally shifted under the covers, poking his head out with an annoyed frown – not that Dick could see it or anything. He was pleased when Dick's hand trailed over his form and found his hair, threading his fingers through the red locks. “I have a migraine,” Wally admits, feeling weak and pathetic.Dick's fingers pause in his hair before they trail down Wally's head and neck, massaging as they go. “What do you need?” He's not going to ask Wally how Speedsters get migraines. Somehow, he doesn't think Wally would want to explain all of that right now. If Wally is feeling so badly that he doesn't want to be around the team, then Dick is going to help him, however he can.“Mmm.. That feels good,” Wally sighs, relaxing a little before he remembers Dick asked him a question. He feels around and drags the already lukewarm ice pack out, dragging it over to Dick's free hand. “Could you get me another?” he whispers, a throb making him wince.Petting Wally's head gently, he takes the ice pack before standing up. “I'll be right back,” Dick assures him. Opening the door, he hears Wally whimper and pull the covers back over his head. 'Sensitive to light,' Dick notes as he exits, making sure to shut the door.Back in the kitchen again, Dick opens the freezer and sticks the warm pack in to chill again. He reaches out to take another but stops short, closing the freezer again. He doesn't know if Wally's eaten. Dick swears. He meant to ask, but he hadn't.He opens a cabinet and pulls out a box of saltines. Even if Wally had eaten, he could probably use a snack. Dick thinks for a moment and then grabs a bottle of water. 'Hydration is important too.' Tucking the bottle under his arm and holding the box with the same hand, he finally pulls the ice pack out of the freezer.Sounds from the TV echo in the hall, a dull roar. Dick frowns as he stops by the door to the living room. He wonders if noise bothers Wally. 'Couldn't hurt to turn it down a bit,' he decides and pokes his head into the room. “Could you guys turn it down a bit? Walls isn't feeling so great.”Heads turn and look at him, brows furrowing and lips frowning. “Is he sick?” M'gann asks, worried.Does he tell him that Wally's got a migraine? For someone who jokes and seems to put himself in the spotlight, Wally didn't actually like attention when things were serious. The Speedster preferred that people didn't worry about him. He would go to great lengths not to be a bother, in fact.“He'll be okay,” Dick answers, sliding passed the issue of actually revealing what's wrong with Wally. “I've got it covered. Just keep it down, yeah?”They nod, turning the volume to a low rumble. It's definitely not as loud as before, so Dick approves. He resumes his previous course.Using a finger, the other part of his hand holding the water bottle, he punches in the code and slips into the room. “I'm back,” Dick murmurs. Once again by Wally's side, he continues, “I have the ice pack.” Wally's hand slips out and takes it from him. A whispered 'thanks' was voiced.“And I got you some water and saltines,” Dick said. “I wasn't sure if you'd eaten or not.”It's silent before he hears Wally reply. “I could eat a little, I think.”Wally shuffles, pulling the blankets off and turning on a very low light. It still makes him wince a little. It's only enough to see a little bit, but that's all he needs. His stomach churns with a mixture of eagerness and warning at the sight of the crackers, but he needs to eat.Dick hands him the saltines without a word, eyes observing Wally's reaction to the saltines. His friend is slow as he opens the crackers and eats them, cautious. Wally seems to struggle every now and then with eating. 'Nausea,' he adds to the list.Something thuds in the living room and Wally flinches. 'And sensitive to sound,' Dick makes a note of it.Wally licks salt from his lips, and Dick decides it's a good time give him the water. He watches as Wally gives him a grateful smile before taking small sips of the water. He's not sure if it's the light, but Wally seems to pale a bit more after getting something into his stomach. “Why don't you lay back down, okay? I'm not sure moving too much is good for your head or stomach,” Dick suggests.“Dude, you have no idea,” Wally grumbles, laying back down without protest.“Should I call Barry?” Dick inquires gently.The Speedster shakes his head slowly. “It'll be gone once I get some rest, I'm hoping. The crackers and water helped.”Dick nodded. “Do you want me to stay here with you?”Wally opens his mouth, hesitating. “Could you?” he finally responds, voice weak.Smiling fondly, Dick reaches over Wally and turns the light off. “I could use a nap myself. Maybe if you wake up later we can get some snacks,” Dick tells him, pulling his shoes off and getting into bed with Wally. He almost yelps when he feels Wally's ice pack connect with his bare skin but bites his lip.“Sorry,” Wally says, pulling the ice pack away and putting it on his eyes. He's grateful that Dick remembered to wrap it in a towel. It would be too cold otherwise. Once Dick is comfortable, Wally whispers to him, “Thanks.”“Anytime, Walls,” Dick whispers back. “I'm here for you.”Wally smiles a little, feeling Dick's warmth under the covers with him. Sometimes he doesn't know how he managed to become friends with someone who cared so much for him.Having gotten something in his stomach and had water, Wally feels a bit better now. The pain has eased up a little and seems to be fading somewhat. He falls asleep to Dick massaging his head, fingers threading through his hair again in a relaxing way. It's 6AM when Dick wakes up to Wally's soft voice. “Dick?” He hears Wally's stomach growl like a monster out for revenge. He chuckles, sleepily.“Are you feeling any better?” Dick asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he sits up to see Wally sitting beside him.Wally smiles at him, light on low, but he looks a lot better than Dick had observed last night. His eyes sparkle a little, not as much as they usually do, but it's enough to let Dick know that Wally's on the mend, even if he's not back at 100% yet. “It doesn't hurt too much right now, but I'm kind of hungry.” He blushes as his stomach growls again. “Or maybe a lot.”Dick laughs more openly now as he sits up. “Let's grab some food and eat it in here. I'm not ready to be social just yet.”Wally bobs his head, agreeing. He's not eager to rejoin the loud, bright land of the outside world either. Although he's feeling better now, there's no guarantee that it won't get worse again. It's best to just take it easy until he's back to speed.They slip out of Wally's room, eyes flicking down the hall. Dick leads, motioning to Wally when he's certain that the hall is secure. It reminds Wally of spy flicks. His lips curve in a grin as he follows Dick, the two of them tip-toeing and trying to avoid anyone and everyone possible.Slipping passed the living room, they notice Conner. The half-kryptonian tilts his head in their directions, letting them know he knows they're there, but he doesn't try to talk to them, allowing them to slip passed in silence. They freeze in the hall, hearing M'gann talking to Artemis. The two girls walk into the computer room, and when the door closes, Wally and Dick resume their secret mission to get food.They almost snicker sometimes at each other, but they don't quite manage to burst out laughing. Dick knows that Wally's head wouldn't feel so good at the loud outburst, and Wally knows it too.With the help of a bag, they grab stuff from the kitchen - some juices, cups, plates, napkins, utensils, and various breakfast foods. It's quite a haul, reminding Wally of the giant bag of candy he'd managed to get for Halloween. Dick kind of looks like one of Santa's elves with the large bag slung over his shoulder. Wally's never telling him that in fear of retaliation though. Ever.They slip back into Wally's room undetected and sit on the floor, deciding to eat picnic style so they don't get food on Wally's bed. Wally's still careful about what he eats, taking it slow, but Dick can see that he's also eating more.Dick refills Wally's cup with juice whenever it gets low. He wants to make sure that Wally gets enough juice and food. It's especially important for a Speedster to have enough.The bag gets refilled with trash once they're finished and they both take turns using Wally's bathroom to relieve their bladders and brush their teeth. Once they're done with that, the light gets turned off again, leaving the room in darkness.Back in his bed again, Dick's fingers flutter over Wally's temple. “Feeling okay?” He feels Wally's facial muscles move under his fingertips.Wally smiles in the darkness, nestling under the covers. “Better. Much better,” he tells Dick. “I think I'll be back to speed in a few more hours.”Dick nods, relieved. He really wasn't sure about giving Wally any medicine. Hyperactive metabolisms made even Batman's tolerance for pain medicine look like it was nothing. “Get some more rest,” he gently urges. “I'll be right here until you wake up.”“Thanks, Dick,” Wally murmurs, letting himself fall asleep with a much happier stomach and head. The throbbing of his eye and nausea were pretty much diminished with only a low level ache. He couldn't wait to get better, but he was going to take his time, for the moment, and enjoy the nap and his friend's company.Migraines were utterly horrendous, but with a friend like Dick by his side, this time hadn't been the worst. 'Note to self, get Dick ice cream later,' Wally thought before he fell asleep.Dick laid beside Wally, watching as he slept and thinking that he was glad he was there to help Wally. Next time, he swore he'd be there again. It's what friends do after all.
10122284	generosity	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Raiden (Metal Gear), Samuel Rodrigues", "Fandom": "Metal Gear", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by rhysgore", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "961", "Additional Tags": "Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Robot pussy, Dirty Talk", "Relationship": "Raiden/Samuel Rodrigues", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	If he’d been able to focus on it for more than a second or two, Raiden might have wondered how exactly Sam was managing to breathe. His body was practically squashed between Raiden’s not insignificant weight and the armchair’s back, and every motion Raiden made pushed him back a little further, pressing down on his chest and stomach in a way that should have made taking in oxygen difficult. But despite all this, he seemed to have absolutely no problem speaking. “Pretty excited, huh?” He murmured against Raiden’s neck, one thick finger working its way in and out of him. Raiden huffed out a breath and tried not to act as painfully aroused as he felt, a feat which was becoming more and more difficult with every moment. “We’ve only just started and you’re already all wet.” “You say that like- you haven’t been teasing me all day, asshole.” Like he hadn’t woken up that day with Sam’s morning wood pressed against his backside, hadn’t noticed Sam taking every possible opportunity to get handsy with him, or to stare lewdly at his ass, or to practically dry hump him while they were sparring. Sam was a lot of things. “Subtle” was not one of them, especially when he was horny. “So? That was only foreplay.” The finger inside him was joined by another, crooking at the knuckles, making Raiden hiss at the stretch and additional stimulation. “Unless you mean to tell me you had this kind of reaction to all of that, too.” “Nnngh.” The noise was half-irritation, half pleasure as Raiden attempted to grind against Sam’s hand. He hadn’t been exactly this riled up all day, but Sam had a way of getting under his skin that no one else ever had, and god, he wanted it so fucking bad. The lips of his pussy were swollen and shiny, his neglected clit throbbing, and Sam seemed content to sit back and watch him squirm. “You’re leaking all over my hand, Raiden,” Sam said, fingers twisting just so, making Raiden moan. “I love it when you’re like this, all messy and warm, mmm…” His other hand trailed down Raiden’s chest, metal digits cool as they traced patterns down the artificial skin. They splayed across Raiden’s stomach, stilling him and preventing him from chasing the friction he desperately wanted. Raiden huffed, flexing against the limb holding him in place, but Sam’s grip was (almost literally) iron, keeping him in place and desperate. “If you’re going to be like that, you could at least- ah,” Raiden’s complaint cut off as Sam sunk another finger into him, body sucking it in greedily. “Better. Much- nn- better.” “If it’s that good just having my hand, imagine how it’s going to feel when you’re on my cock, pretty boy.” The calluses on Sam’s fingers rubbed against his inner walls, sending tingles down Raiden’s spine. “So tight, so desperate for me to fill you up like you want, huh?” “Nn- don’t flatter yourself so much.” Raiden could feel his legs starting to tremble as teasing turned to three fingers pumping steadily in and out of him. “Your dick isn’t as, oh, special as you think-” There was a low chuckle from behind him, and Sam’s metal hand wandered downwards, thumb lightly brushing over Raiden’s clit. Raiden’s reaction was almost instantaneous, a full-body twitch that he couldn’t quite manage to contain, and he growled as Sam laughed and did it again. Damn his body for being so responsive. “Oh yeah? Is there someone else that makes you moan like I do? If there is, let me know so I can quietly dispose of them.” Sam’s tone was light, thoroughly amused as he rubbed Raiden’s clit harder, eking breathy gasps out of him. Pleasure thrummed through his body, and as much shit as he was giving Sam, they both knew he was almost at his limit. “J-jealous.” “Who wouldn’t be?” His thighs were slick with fluid, leg muscles taut with the effort of keeping himself still. “You look so beautiful like this, spread out on my lap, fucking yourself on my hand. It doesn’t take as much to make you lose your composure as you would like people to think.” As he spoke, Sam’s knuckles rubbed Raiden just so, and Raiden’s hips bucked, out of his control. “Sam-” His voice was strained, borderline desperate. “Please-” “So beautiful,” Sam repeated, kissing Raiden’s shoulder as he twisted his fingers inside of Raiden, the roughness of the touch exactly what Raiden needed to send him into a gasping, shuddery orgasm. He grasped at the arms of the chair, clenching his fists as his body quivered, a warm, loose feeling spreading through every one of his limbs. When the high started to wear off a little, Raiden shifted slightly on Sam’s lap. The position wasn’t exactly the most comfortable for him, straddling one big thigh precariously, and he could only imagine the degree of pins and needles Sam was getting in his leg, having several hundred pounds of metal and artificial tissue pressing down on it. As he moved, he heard Sam let out a little hiss, and felt something press against his ass, solid and warm through two- well, at least one- layers of fabric. “Hi there,” Raiden said, amused. He shifted again, deliberately grinding against it, smirking at the sounds Sam made as he did. “Ready for round two already?” “Only round one for me, blondie. I didn’t come yet.” Raiden snorted, and Sam retaliated by biting his neck, pouting into the artificial skin. “I was trying to be generous, and you laugh at me? That hurts.” “Guess I’ll have to make it up to you, then. Any ideas?” “Oh,” Sam said, hands smoothing down Raiden’s sides. “I have a few.”
10169837	It takes one to know one	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Kim Namjoon \| Rap Monster, Park Jimin (BTS)", "Fandom": "방탄소년단 \| Bangtan Boys \| BTS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by AwkwardBeansidhe", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "1,817", "Additional Tags": "Vampires, Self-Discovery, mentions of animal blood", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Kim Namjoon \| Rap Monster/Park Jimin, Kim Namjoon \| Rap Monster & Park Jimin", "Series": "MinJoon Bingos", "Collections": "The 2016 Minjoon Rare Trope Bingo", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Namjoon was hungry. He’d been hungry for days. Jimin was teasing him about it, but indulging him with frequent trips to the market, and stopping for snacks to and from the market, and ordering late night takeout after dinner. Namjoon noticed, but didn’t say anything about the fact that Jimin was matching him bite for bite and fighting over the last chicken leg. For a while he’d been worried about where all the food was going, but his pants weren’t getting any tighter. Jimin checked his reflection each morning, rubbing and patting his belly fondly. It was unreasonable to think that either of them had increased the number of calories they were burning to suddenly need to add extra meals, but they couldn’t stop snacking. Jimin had called him just after ten in the morning asking if Namjoon wanted to get naengmyeon. At ten in the morning. Namjoon thought about mocking him, but his stomach betrayed him with a rumble and they met out front of Namjoon’s office and walked to the closest cafe to campus and had a very large meal, and in two hours repeated it at lunch. After a week, Namjoon started researching digestive diseases. He joked that they had contracted tapeworms. Jimin laughed but then they both stopped and stared at each other in mute horror. They got tested and were relieved to find themselves in perfect health, except for an insatiable hunger. They continued to drink the tea, foul though it tasted, and continued to explore and learn all the things the world had to offer. The tea kept them healthy, year after year. The tea preserved their long, extraordinary lives, and they toasted each other every morning. They had rung in their second century together. They’d visited most of the cities on their list and almost half of the wildernesses they wanted to explore, all thanks to a little scroll in a cave they’d found mostly by accident several life times ago. It was a long time to be roommates. It was a long time to be friends. They hadn’t planned to become best friends, but so many lifetimes of shared experiences had glued them together. They had seen unexplainable things, beyond science in the murky realms of magic. A night on endless repeat, defying all laws of time and logic that only ended when they fell asleep in each other’s arms had been just the first of many odd occurrences that they never thought to link to their morning tea. More research had led them to a spirit being who mocked them only a little more than he offered explanation. Still, they both agreed that there was no better partner on the strange path they’d chosen than each other. After literally walking in each other’s skin, they couldn’t bear to go through more than a couple of weeks apart. So they ate together, snuck out of meetings with colleagues to meet up and stuff their faces. They poured money into filling their stomachs, finding themselves getting pickier and pickier. They got hungrier and hungrier as the number of foods that were palatable shrank. Namjoon figured they were craving something specific, but neither of them could name it. Namjoon came home to find Jimin perched over the sink, stuffing handfuls of spinach in his mouth. He claimed he was going to make a salad and just got impatient, but Namjoon wasn’t fazed. He just walked to the fridge and pulled out the carton of eggs. Grabbing a pot and covering the eggs with water would take longer than he could stand, so he put each egg in the cup of a muffin tin and turned on the oven. While they cooked, he grabbed the jar of mixed nuts and crunched away. “We can’t keep this up,” Jimin said, mouth leafy and green. “What, eating? We do have to eat to survive.” “Not like this.” Jimin shook his head, but reached for the leftover bulgogi in the fridge anyway. “Can you even imagine trying to cut down right now? I’m just so hungry. It’s not negatively affecting anything.” “I don’t want to cut down, I want to get full. I want to be done being hungry for just a few minutes.” Jimin paced the kitchen, grabbing nuts out of the jar with each pass. Namjoon nodded and swiped a piece of bulgogi from Jimin’s bowl. “Let’s talk this out again. What do you really want to be eating?” “Whatever’s closest,” Jimin mumbled around a full mouth. “No, really. If you had a magic wand to create food instantly, what would you be eating?” Namjoon drooled a little, staring into the oven to watch his eggs bake. “I don’t know. A good steak? This bulgogi is close, but not quite what I want.” “Yes. Steak.” Namjoon nodded and his stomach grumbled agreement. “Not overly seasoned, but well aged--” “Nice and rare,” Jimin interrupted. “That sounds really good.” “Let’s go,” Jimin said, shoving the bulgogi back in the fridge. It took Namjoon less than a minute to turn off the oven and slide into his shoes. After stuffing themselves full of high quality red meat, they strolled home in contented silence, each carrying a bag of steaks to keep in the fridge. The bags didn’t even last until morning. “So, red meat.” Jimin crossed his arms and looked at Namjoon, who was licking bloody juice from his fingers. “Must be an iron deficiency,” he said calmly, but his heart was racing. He couldn’t remember ever being this hungry, this insatiable, this desperate. It was disturbingly primal. He’d lived for almost two hundred years and now he was scared that it was all catching up in a way he’d never expected. “That sounds simple. Unlikely, but simple.” “Why unlikely?” Namjoon grabbed a towel to wipe his hands then started ticking points off on his long fingers. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve got cold hands and feet, my heart is racing, and you’ve been looking pale lately.” “But there’s no fatigue, no weakness, no chest pains and definitely no lack of appetite. I’ve done the research, too, Namjoon. It doesn’t fit.” “But craving red meat? Isn’t that a thing anemics do?” Namjoon was a little embarrassed that he had only skimmed the internet looking for information. Jimin was always better versed and ready with an answer. He’d taken his role of research assistant, given so many years ago that the title hadn’t existed yet, so seriously over the years that it was an inescapable part of him now. “Of all the bizarre things that have happened over the years, you think having a bottomless pit for a stomach and a craving for essentially raw meat makes you think we’re just anemic ?” Jimin poured a glass of water and passed it to Namjoon, who drank it in silence. “This hardly seems like the other things we’ve experienced,” Namjoon said finally. “You’re right. No repeating evenings, no switching bodies, no hallucinations, no time travel. But it’s certainly not normal, and with us, anything out of the ordinary tends to be extraordinary,” Jimin scoffed. “Besides, you haven’t stopped licking your fingers pretty much this whole time.” Namjoon froze, realizing that his fingers were indeed in his mouth. He looked at the counter where a pristine towel lay. Jimin was right. “Shit.” “Yeah.” “So what now?” Namjoon asked, folding the towel to keep his hands busy and away from his face. He could still smell it though. Raw and delicious. “Well, if you just take the symptoms we do have,” Jimin said as he climbed up to sit on the counter, “plus the extended life span from the tea, and the consequences that has brought--” “Seriously, I had idea that a scroll we dug out of a cave was going to be this much trouble. It was just a recipe for tea, for fuck’s sake!” Namjoon huffed. He leaned against the counter next to Jimin, resting a hand on Jimin’s knee. He liked to know that Jimin was close. It was uncomfortable to be too far away from him. “Hindsight and all that. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I think I thought vitality of the blood was just fancy old speak for being better at sex and stuff.” Jimin shrugged and his eyes crinkled with a smile. “At the time we found that book you’d never even had sex, so how would you have known if the tea made you better?” “Intuitively. I would have intuitively known that I was better than I should be.” “And now, after all these years, do you think the tea has anything to do with your ability to charm the pants off of everyone you meet?” Namjoon flashed a dimple and Jimin tossed his head back to laugh. “No. That is a gift of superior genetics and a good bb cream.” “Finally, the secret is revealed.” Namjoon rolled his eyes fondly. “You should have asked sooner.” “Fair point.” “But Namjoon, the symptoms. Cold hands. Cold everything, really. Insatiable hunger. Pale skin. And I’ve been getting pretty sensitive to bright light the last few days.” “Well, when you say it like that it sounds like you think we’re turning into--” “Vampires,” Jimin finished. Namjoon was still smiling, but only because his face was stuck. “You know that’s ridiculous, right?” Namjoon coughed. He brought his hands to his face, but the lingering scent of blood was so tempting that he dropped it again. “I don’t even want to eat the steak anymore, Namjoon. I just want to lick the plate. I don’t want the meat. I just want the--” “Don’t. Don’t say it. I can’t. This is ridiculous.” “You know it’s not.” “It really is. Vampires?” “There are actual medical conditions that produce vampirism, Namjoon. It’s not as crazy as it seems. And even if it were, how is it any crazier than the time we switched bodies? Or the hallucinations? Or--” “Stop. I have to sit down.” Namjoon slid down to the ground, resting his back against the cabinets. Jimin plopped down beside him and rested his head gently on Namjoon’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. It could be worse.” Namjoon snorted. “Really? Worse than turning into vampires? What could possibly be worse than that?” “We could be alone. At least we’re vampires together. And there’s a butcher shop nearby. We’ll just say we’re doing experiments for the university and need blood. Hell, we could actually do experiments and get grants and shit to fund our new appetite. They're always looking for new research projects, and this time, we'll be personally invested. We might even learn something.” Namjoon sighed. “No one finds the bright side quite like you.” “I know. It’s why you can’t live without me. And now, you won’t have to. Ever.” “Alright, you went from sweet to creepy in about half a second.” “It’s a skill of mine.”
10103867	Youre The Reason I Stay	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Robbie Rotten, Sportacus (LazyTown), Stephanie Meanswell, Trixie (LazyTown), Other kids mentioned", "Fandom": "LazyTown", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Tribblecore", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00", "words": "3,744", "Additional Tags": "No Smut, No Plot/Plotless, Fae Robbie Rotten, Elf Sportacus (LazyTown), Stephanie knows everything, Its her hair, It's full of secrets, I Don't Even Know, Mutual Pining, sports unhealthy eating habits, one bite of an apple, BECOMES SUPERMAN, Mentions of Nine, Mentions of Glanni, Mild Hurt/Comfort, very mild, Injury, Healing, excessive use of Sporta----, I have fun with those", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Robbie Rotten/Sportacus, Stephanie Meanswell/Trixie", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It was a semi gloomy day in Lazytown, the sun was trying with all its might to shine through the thick of clouds that had settled over the tiny town but with no luck in sight, which didn’t bother Robbie at all, he preferred darker days. The occasional mist sprinkled down overhead at intervals of about 40 minutes apart and went on for 5 minutes before stopping once again, because of this the children were inside, trying to keep warm and playing video games at Pixel’s house, except for a certain pink haired girl who thought it’d be best to go speak to a certain villain, of whom wished she would go away and leave him be, today was his sort of day as stated before. Dark and no loud noises, perfect for a walk in the park and maybe the woods if we was feeling especially quirky.Robbie glared down at the monochromatic pink raincoat clad girl in, what he hoped, looked like malice but she appeared unfazed, fixing a stare right back at him that sent chills down his spine. He’s heard the expression “looks can kill” and this barely 13 year old girl has managed and mastered it. He would have been impressed if it weren’t towards him. He twirled his umbrella above his head making the different shades of purple and red swirl around his head like a halo and leaned forward at the hips, trying to appear taunting or at least a bit intimidating. It didn’t appear to be working. He internally sighed.“You know Sportacus likes you, right?” Robbie raised one of his perfectly trimmed eyebrows and stood up, straightening his back and clearing his throat, he looked anywhere but at her. The girl tilted her head at his movement as if waiting for an answer that he didn’t know what to give, how was he suppose to know how that buffoon feels other than Happy and Apples. Apples wasn’t an emotion was it? He didn’t much care, so he simply said“What are you talking about Stevie-”She interrupted him, “Stephanie”. Robbie scowled and rolled his eyes. Flinging a hand up in a dramatic gesture towards the girl who didn’t even flinch. At this point he noticed how long her hair has gotten, it reached her mid back by now, straight as ever, bangs no longer a thing as they now are pushed to the side with no brown roots thanks to him and sneaking hair dye into her mailbox. He wasn't sure why he did it, the one time he saw her with her roots showing she looked downright miserable and he wasn’t quite fond of that look on her face, he wasn’t even sure why he was so bothered by it. It’s not like she knows it’s him doing it of course but she certainly seems happier after receiving a new box every 5 to 6 weeks.“Whatever. I don’t even know what you’re spouting out about. Sportakook could, would, and should never like me! I’m a villain, I’m the opposite of him, he’s the hero! It-”“Slightly above average hero”, she interrupted once again, she was prone to having something thrown at her head if she continued this, she would be the perfect target as she was the brightest thing out here at the moment, even the bright yellow walls that held absolutely no use other than being a nuisance to walk around constantly were dull this day in May. He much preferred Loud Girl over this one, she at least knew when to shut up and listen, especially when trouble was mentioned. Thinking of her made Robbie realize he needed to start training her in the ways of villainy. Well, her or Stinky boy, the one always trying to claim everything, both would be good villains. Hopefully he’d do better with them then he did with Bobby, Flobby, and Tobby. They were good boys, just didn’t have the touch like he did. He misses them sometimes, maybe they’d visit? Probably not.“Exactly, Pinkie! So, him doing his flippity flops everywhere, being so annoying, and making you all play at infernal hours of the morning! It just-”“Noon? Noon is an infernal hour?” Once again, interrupted, he wasn't sure how this girl managed to survive her younger years. Who taught her manners? Obviously not Mayor Meanswell or Sportacus, Robbie would have to rectify this one of these days. Maybe. “Yes. Always has been, always will be. Now will you please, please, please, PLEASE, stop interrupting me when I talk, I am trying to make this into a conversation, not a debate.” Stephanie puffed her cheeks out in anger, not nearly as cute as she use to be but that was years ago and she was growing into a young lady, he couldn’t blame her for still trying of course. It almost brought a fond smile to his face.Almost.“Will you please just talk to Sportacus? He was so nervous when he told me he liked you! And yes, he told me. He asked me how to handle it.” Robbie shuddered at the fact a grown man was going to a teenager for romantic advice, “He was saying how, and I quote! ‘'Oh, Steph, he could never like me! I’m too energetic and flippy for him’ and as he was saying this, guess what, he was doing back flips! And when he stopped himself he just looked so. . . . Sportacus was so depressed! And he is never depressed.” She stated strongly, crossing her arms as if it was a well known fact and Robbie almost felt pity over how much she believed her own words, he pursed his lips, trying to imagine Sportacus in a depressed state, he realized how the thought of it made his chest tighten up but he chose to ignore that. She decided to continue, “And while I know how you are, and if I’m honest I didn’t like you when we first met,” Robbie wasn't at all surprised, he didn’t like her either, wore too much pink, too happy all the time, too nosey, too much of a child in general, “You’ve grown on me, ya know? All your tricks to get Sportacus out of town were even FUN sometimes and I really enjoyed them. You haven’t done as many lately and I’m guessing it’s due to yourself getting old,” He wasn’t old, he put a hand to his chest and gaped at her, he was only 33 years old, where in her mind did she think he was OLD? ‘Treacherous’ he thought, he allowed her to continue, hoping she would be done soon enough, “And I’ve always thought of Sportacus as a sort of. . .mentor? Father? Teacher? I’m not sure which is more. . .accurate. But, I feel the same way about you now! And I really wish we could all hang out how we use to without Sportacus always having to watch you leave with a smile on his face that never reaches his eyes when he says goodbye to you! When you turn your back on him he just. . .I know what people in love look like and Sportacus matches the description of a love struck fool perfectly!” Stephanie finished, Robbie noticed tears threatening to pour out of her eyes and he frowned, crouching down and wiping her cheeks from the stray tears that fell.“Would it make you feel better if I told you I really. . .” Oh god, he didn’t know if he could say this without sounding awkward or worse, “I really don’t hate Sportaloser?” She scoffed at the name but nodded, “And, well, I. . .I like you. I like you and the rest of the hooligans.” That didn’t favor the age card whatsoever but he shrugged internally and continued, “After awhile it never even mattered if my tricks got Sportaflop out of town or not, it started to be me just trying to have fun with you guys.”“Like a big game!” Stephanie said, smiling as her tears began to dry up, Robbie nodded.“Yes, it was all a big game of The Hero, The Villain and the Children in Distress over and over again.” Robbie hummed in thought, “If I went to talk to Sportacus, would you feel even better?” He almost regretted offering that, almost. But Stephanie's face broke out into the biggest grin he’s seen on her and she jumped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling into him saying ‘'yes” repeatedly. He felt highly uncomfortable from all this human contact, tensing up and Stephanie caught on, stepping back from him and wiping her face.“Sorry, Robbie.” He waved her off.“It’s fine. Now run along and go be lazy for once.” She just giggled and nodded, running off, “She’s not going to be lazy. Even though this is one of the BEST days to be lazy.” Robbie said to himself, shaking his head and standing back up, his spine cracking in about 5 different places as he stretched, yawning. “Well, I didn’t promise her I’d talk to him TODAY and that stretch really made me tired.” Her spun around and walked back towards the billboard located right outside of the tiny town. Sad about the fact he didn't even make it out of town towards the woods, but tomorrow is always another day!--The very next day Robbie found himself once again outside, sneering at the group of children who seemed to be doing their best to keep him awake. It wasn’t a nearly as dull today as it was yesterday, it was still cloudy but it was no longer raining and the clouds were beginning to move northward, taking the storm and the peace and quiet with them, leaving him to suffer once again with a group of loud teens and and aerobic sports elf. He thought to himself that he, maybeee, maybe, he should turn off the surround sound system connected to his bunker for a day, or a week, maybe a month to get some sleep. He shook his head and went back to focusing on the kids. Silly idea, then he wouldn’t have any ideas for how to get rid of Sportacus and that would not do, no sir-ee. Robbie stood up straighter and looked around.The blue kangaroo was nowhere in sight which actually baffled the tall man, he was use to seeing the energetic elf jumping about yelling words of encouragement to the children, he was even becoming fond of seeing him. That and well, who encouraged the kids to come out and play on a day like today? Probably the pink one, she has always been like a little Sportacus. Robbie took a deep breath and walked towards the kids, they all turned to him and with their usual dramatic gasp that annoyed the living daylights out of him everytime,“Robbie Rotten!” They all looked shocked except for Stephanie and Tricky, Loud girl. . .Trixie? He wasn’t quite sure he honestly forgot their names on the daily.“Yes, yes. It’s me! Now, I need to speak to pinkie about something.” Loud girl scrunched her face up as she looked him up and down, moving to stand in front of the older girl as if to protect her. He could easily pick her up and set her to the side if he wanted to, he tilted his head.“What do you need to see her for, hm.?” She questioned while Stephanie rolled her eyes from behind her. Robbie sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. “Anything you have to say to her you can say in front of us all!” Robbie stared at the girl.She stared back.The few seconds felt like hours, neither were going to back down here. He should probably take initiative and do so, but now he was fixed on a small drop of mud that was above the girls left eyebrow and he couldn’t help but stare in disgust at it, the urge to wipe it off was becoming too strong and--Robbie groaned loudly, leaning forward and wiping the mud off much to the surprise of the girl and the others and he sighed, happy that was over, “Fine! Fine, I’ll talk to all of you about what it is I need to say to Pink girl if you’re so insistent!” He cleared his throat, putting a hand on his hip and his other hand pointed in the air, “I am going to-” “Hi, Robbie! Hi, kids!” Robbie jumped exaggeratedly and made an ungodly squeal, falling forward and managing to catch himself on his hands and push himself back up as fast as he had fallen. He straightened up his crop vest and tried to ignoring the embarrassment creeping up his neck and face, taking a deep shaky breath. He was glad the kids had moved when he fell, he didn’t want to end up landing on and hurting one of them.“I meant to do that.” He tried to ignore the sting of the pavement on his hands and turned towards Sportacus whose smile was faltering a bit and worry evident in his eyes, he both hated and adored that look.“Are you okay, Robbie?” He asked, stepping towards the villain with a hand outstretched. Robbie looked at the offending appendage with apprehension, not knowing what he was suppose to do with it until the hero grabbed his hands and began to look over them, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d scare you that badly! We need to clean this up!” Robbie snatched his hands away, shaking his head.“It’s fine, Sportaspook! I can fix myself up. I don’t need you to baby me.” Stephanie nudged Robbie, gaining his attention. When he looked down at her he regretted it immediately, she looked downright disappointed in him and he whined softly, she just crossed her arms and tapped one of her pink shoes until he groaned once again, this one louder than the next and turned to look at Sportacus who looked confused at Robbie and Stephanie’s interaction. “Very well, I suppose you can help me this one time.” The confused face instantly changed into one of happiness and relief, stepping closer to Robbie and gently taking his arm to lead him away from the children. When Robbie looked back at the kids he could see Stephanie whispering to all the other kids about the situation, giggling and looking over to their retreating backsides, he just glared back at them, children were seriously ridiculous. They were acting like he was about to confess his love for the sportadork or something.Wait.That was exactly what was happening, shit. He had an entire conversation with himself last night about it and he was just about to tell the kids that way if it ended up not working out they’d know why everyone is acting weird, he trusted them enough to not make such a big deal out of it but now looking back at them, maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t tell them since they seemed to already know somehow.Pinkie. When Robbie growled and then turned away from the small figures, he was met with bright blue eyes staring at him, they looked away quickly and Robbie blinked, tilting his head in confusion.“So where are we going?”“My airship!” Sportacus chirped happily, getting a bounce in his step and Robbie took a sharp intake of breath.“I am not getting on that blimp. That. . .deathtrap!”“It’s an airship, and don’t worry, I parked it!” Robbie let out the air he was holding and nodded, agreeing to that and only that, he would never get into that blimp while it’s still in the air. Well, he would for a dastardly plan. Which he has, the pole was fun, everyone else, not so much. “I really am sorry that I scared you so badly, Robbie. I don’t know what I was thinking just popping up behind you!” Sportacus exclaimed and Robbie could only roll his eyes.“I told you, I’m fine. It’s not even that bad, it just a bit of scruffed up skin, it happens.” He tried to explain but Sport still refused to look up from the ground as he walked. He was walking, Robbie did a double take at that and smiled softly at that. He wasn’t flipping or jumping because he was with Robbie. But the smile faded and became a frown.He wasn’t flipping or jumping because he was with Robbie.“Can you show me how to do a backflip once my hands heal up a little?” He blurted out and Sport looked at him in confusion. he could feel his face heating up once again.“You want to know how to do a backflip?” Sportacus asked in disbelief and Robbie huffed at that, looking away from the shorter man’s dazzling blue eyes and stupid mustache. “I would love to teach you!” Robbie looked over at him and noticed his face was tinged a light pink, embarrassed about how loud he had said that and cleared his throat. “You know, once you heal of course. Don’t wanna hurt your hands anymore than I have already.”They eventually made it to the parked airship outside of town near the woods, Sportacus helped Robbie up into it.“Bed!” Sportacus said loudly and a bed dropped out of the wall near Robbie making him jump again and Sport gave him a sheepish look, offering it to Robbie for him to sit. Once he did Sportacus disappeared above, climbing up the pole set up in the middle easily into what is probably an upper area. Robbie tapped his hands against his thighs, looking around the blimp-airship with interest. He frowned when he noticed there didn’t seem to be anything personal around, no pictures of family, friends, nothing.He hummed in thought as he looked, realizing he wasn’t much different, he would rather leave his family and their history in the past. It was a bit lonely without his big brother around, but his brother already dug himself a hole years before.Robbie heard a thump to his left and looked over to see Sportacus holding an alcohol bottle with some cotton balls and some gauze. He scoffed but held his hands out, allowing the doof to do his thing. Robbie could have easily of healed his hands with the magic he has but, he really needed to tell Sportacus how he feels and well, the injury got them alone. Together. On Sports bed. Robbie groaned internally at how is mind works and decided to just watch the elf work. He seemed nervous as he played Doctor for the villain and Robbie cleared his throat.“Something wrong, Sportanurse?” He said smoothly, hissing as the other dabbed a cotton ball on an especially deep scrape. He watched as Sportacus hesitated and seemed to be contemplating something.“I was. . .I was talking to Stephanie the other day and it really had me thinking. I spent all day yesterday in the airship thinking about what she said and uh, well. I realized that I need to tell you something. Something that will change our. . .dynamic forever, something we can’t just ignore.” Robbie watched in horror as what he thought was about to be was about to be SAID, he had to react quickly or else his entire night of fighting with himself would have been for naught.“I’m in love with you.”“I’ve fallen in love with you.”They said it at the same time, both freezing and staring wide eyed at the other. Slowly, a grin started to pull across Sportacus’ face and Robbie could only mirror it, a fluttering feeling making itself known within his abdomen and he sighed as a tanned and came up, resting against his neck. He leaned forward to catch Sport’s mouth with his own, meeting him halfway. It was a chaste kiss but nothing less than passionate all the same. Robbie heard something akin to purring as they kissed and smiled, deepening it slightly but not going any further. Once they broke off for air Sportacus looked beautiful. Half-lidded eyes looking at Robbie as if he was the best thing put on this planet and the sweetest smile, he knew he looked the same.“You’re the reason I’ve stayed here this long, Robbie. The kids really don’t need me anymore. At least not as much as they use to, and well, I can’t see myself without you around. I’m sorry, I’m not the best with words.” Sportacus said softly, kissing Robbie once again, “I’m much more of an action person.” “Well, I’m much more of a talker, but for you I’ll make an exception, Sportacus. But the kids do still need you, not for the same reasons as before, but they need you nonetheless. They’re going to have more obstacles in the teenage years to get through and they’ll need you more than ever. I love you so much and I don’t want you to ever think that you’re worthless to the kids now, you will never be worthless to them, or to me.” He ended it with kissing Sportacus again, eyes watering slightly. He pulled away from him and healed his hands, placing them on the elves cheeks and smiling at his shocked look, he went up and knocked his hat off, running his hands through the elves hair, eyes wide. “You’re BLONDE?” He asked, ignoring the ears as he already knew about those.“You healed your hands! How?” They both sat there, baffled for two completely different reasons until they made eye contact and began laughing. “I was able to heal myself because I’m fae, Sportaelf.”“How did you know I was an elf?” He asked, eyes wide and mouth hanging open at Robbie’s casualness of it all.“Well, I assumed. The last guy, Nine, was an elf so why wouldn’t you be an elf? Plus with your horrible appetite of one bite from an apple a day and having so much energy and strength, well, it’s obvious to other beings.” Sportacus just blinked at him and smiled.“Oh.” Is all he said before he grabbed Robbie and pulled him toward him, burying his face in his neck and sighing happily, “So, when should we tell the kids?” Robbie scoffed, wrapping his arms around his elf and pulling him up onto his lap.“I’m pretty sure they already know, Sportalooney.”
10141781	The Beauty of Love and	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Sawamura Daichi, Kuroo Tetsurou, Sugawara Koushi, Nishinoya Yuu, Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Azumane Asahi, Hinata Shouyou, Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Ennoshita Chikara, Oikawa Tooru, Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma", "Fandom": "Haikyuu!!", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Navybluewings", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "8,408", "Additional Tags": "Snapchat, First time meetups, Full of fluff, Volleydorks, Kuroo Tetsurou is a Good Friend, Sawamura Daichi is a Dork, Valentine's Day, lots of cameos", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, hints of Kagehina - Relationship, hints of TsukkiYama - Relationship, hints of AsaNoya - Relationship", "Series": "Meet Ups? More like Mess Ups!", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“You are the worst Valentine ever.” It was hard for Daichi Sawamura to ignore the loud groan from his friend when it echoed in the empty library. Normally, a Tuesday night would mean some bookworms would still be shuffling between the bookshelves. But on February 14th, there were only three souls in the dusty building. One, the librarian, was forced to be there. And while Daichi was there for the right reasons, the same could not be said for his overdramatic friend. “You didn’t have to come, Kuroo. This paper doesn’t need your stupidity rubbing off on it.” Daichi didn’t lift his head from the article he was reading, but his ears caught his friend’s unmanly whine. “Who else am I going to hang out with? Kenma picked up a shift because the idea of romance is dead to my introverted boyfriend, and Bokuto’s Djing until midnight. You’re the only single person I know. Hence why you’re my honey bear tonight.” “Don’t call me that,” Daichi replied, grunting when a heavy body fell against his shoulder. “Why don’t you love your valentine?” “Funny, I don’t remember asking for that role.” “Well you should have; I’m a hot ticket. Even though I’m happily involved with Kenma, women and men from all over the campus want me. But I’ve vowed my attention to your lame ass, so buy me some chocolate or at least a shot.” Kuroo’s cheek rubbed against Daichi’s in a way that only Kuroo could make normal. He was like a cat; never respecting personal space and determining that everyone wanted him to rub up against them. The short haired man rolled his eyes at his confident friend, his attention dropping back onto his laptop. “Guess I’m too ‘lame’ to appreciate your generosity. Plus, Valentine’s day doesn’t really change the due date of this paper, you know.” “Man, Takeda-sensei doesn’t pull punches. You think a softie like him would have a weak spot for the lover’s holiday.” Daichi shoved Kuroo away from him, smirking when his suave classmate nearly tipped over in his chair. It was childish, but Daichi had to appreciate the little victories in life if he was going to get through this semester. “This is his job, idiot. I don’t think he’s concerned about this fake holiday.” Takeda-sensei was a good education teacher, and Daichi wanted to get a top grade in the class. He had plans on asking to intern for Takeda-sensei in the summer, and failing the paper would not be a good image. But between juggling work and his other classes, Daichi had only been able to carve out time today to finish up his research. Valentine’s day didn’t really matter to him anyways, as he had been single for quite some time. But if he knew Kuroo was going to pester him while he worked, he would have never told the easily bored friend where he was an hour ago. “How much more do you have to write?” Like an impatient child, Kuroo squirmed in his seat while staring at his focused friend. “A few hours, I think. The reference page is the bulk of the work, and I’ve got to spend some time looking at my sentence structures-” “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the hottest Karasuno nerd on campus.” When Daichi looked up, he was greeted with Kuroo’s phone peering down at him. Though he wanted to scold his friend, he felt himself laugh as Kuroo wiggled his eyebrows behind the phone and grinned. “And he’s quite single and lonely. Any people out there looking for a Valentine’s date on Cupid’s favorite holiday?” “Were you taping me?” Daichi asked once the phone was dropped back to the table in front of them. Kuroo, now interested in whatever he had done on the device, didn’t let Daichi’s question divert his attention. “Snapchat, obviously. You are so old school, man.” It wasn’t the first time that Daichi had gotten that comment before. While others his age were focused on getting followers and updating their tweets, Daichi couldn’t care less. He barely used the facebook that Bokuto and Kuroo had made for him, and it was mostly to see where said friends were currently haunting. He had heard of snapchat, but he didn’t have the faintest idea how to use it. Meanwhile, his best friend seemed more than capable of using the application for his own amusement. “Who can see that, anyways?” Daichi asked, disliking the smirk Kuroo wore while he shrugged. “Well, normally it’d just be people I’m friends with on snapchat, but since you’re obsessed with showing off your school pride, I tossed it onto the school’s feed.” Kuroo pointed to the sweatshirt Daichi was wearing, which proudly presented he was a student at Karasuno College. Kuroo had one as well, yet his sweatshirt was never worn unless he was planning to bum around his apartment. Daichi saw no harm in wearing the warm sweatshirt, even if it had started to get worn out from constant use. “Wait, so everyone in school can see that?” “Just the ones who are as pathetic as you on Valentine's day.” As if to prove his point, Kuroo flipped the phone and tapped on the feed called “Karasuno College”, watching a pair of guys flash onto the screen. One looked bald with murder eyes, while his shorter counterpart’s hair stuck up, decorated with a bleach blond strip in the middle. “Yo, us too, bro! Lonely and looking for a fun time tonight!” The thumbs up from the smaller man made Daichi laugh, his friend letting out a whoop before his shirt swung around his head. “Where’s all the single parties at, yo?” The two were then cut off, and Daichi blinked when another man’s face showed up on the screen. This one looked about Daichi and Kuroo’s age, his dark location littered with glass bottles and a polished bar top. “Aw, someone as cute as you shouldn’t be alone tonight, Karasuno nerd. Come to my bar for a free shot on me.” A wink from the bartender was the last thing before the shift of another video, Daichi realizing that the application didn’t give people a lot of time to talk. The next one was someone asking for help on geometry homework, and Daichi dropped his attention back to the paper in front of him. Getting distracted by Kuroo’s shenanigans was not going to help him finish up his paper. The darkness out the library windows showed that it was late, and the building would be closing soon. Kuroo, now distracted by the snaps he was receiving, was kept busy for a little while. Daichi worked through a few more parts of his paper, and his mind forgot about Kuroo’s snapchat to focus on his assignment. The flow he was struggling to find was starting to formulate itself, slowly but surely. It wasn’t like he was bad at writing reports; his attention was just a little out of sorts. The classes he attended earlier in the day had the same lack of focus, and he wondered if he really was more aware of the holiday than he realized. Daichi liked being in relationships. There was something nice about having someone to go home to and share your day with. But despite his respect for only having one partner to devote his time to, it hadn’t been easy to find someone with similar aspirations. Either they weren’t loyal, or they were too childish for Daichi to see a serious relationship forming. And while his friends always teased him about his ‘old man’ traditional values, Daichi wasn’t swayed to change. If he didn’t find someone in college to share his life with, that was okay. He was still young, after all. But even though he always told his friends that his school needed his full attention, Daichi found himself aching for something to spark life back into his heart. Just as he finished wrapping up a particularly hard paragraph, Kuroo’s sudden whistle caught his attention. “Well look who’s got a bite, Mr.Karasuno nerd.” “What are you talking about?” Daichi asked, his eyes skimming back over his closing sentence. A sudden yank on his ear made him swear loudly, a flush coming to his cheeks when the librarian glanced up to them from across the room. The pretty student with glasses said nothing, but her calm stare was enough for Daichi to mumble an apology before glaring to his grinning friend beside him. If Kuroo noticed the displeased look he didn’t mention it, his phone sliding across the table with a winning grin. “Someone responded to our snapchat.” Kuroo clicked through a few of the ones that Daichi had seen earlier, as well as new ones that seemed to have nothing to do with what he was talking about. But then he stopped on a random person, one that quickly caught Daichi’s attention. The slender face of the man in the video was cheerful, paler than Daichi and marked with a beauty mark just outside of his eye. His smile was gentle, cheeks brushed with a blush that contrasted the grey hair fluffing his head. Hazel-brown eyes stared up at the camera that he held, catching part of what looked like a coffee shop. And the first thing that came to Daichi’s mind was just how charming this guy looked. “Hey, Karasuno nerd, I like your sweatshirt! And if the position’s still open, I’d like to apply.” It was short, too short for Daichi’s liking, and his impish face was gone just as quick as it had appeared. It took Daichi a moment before he realized the video was over, and slowly he looked up at Kuroo with a confused look on his face. “Position?” “You know, for a smart guy you sure are stupid.” Kuroo’s blunt statement made Daichi scowl, his look only seeming to further please his friend. “He’s talking about being your valentine.” “Me? He wants to be my Valentine?” “I know, it stunned me too.” Daichi looked back down at the phone, unsure of how to take the information. Though a part of him instantly jumped for joy, his more realistic side was wary. Why would a guy who looked as good as the mystery man want to be his valentine? Didn’t he have other options available to him? Even if Kuroo promoted him, Daichi must have seemed like a dork being cooped up in a library on the day of love. Yet somehow, in a measly ten seconds, something about Daichi had caught the man’s interest. “Well...what do I do now?” Daichi asked, Kuroo snorting before snatching his phone back. “What do you mean? The guy’s hot; you obviously ask him out for a date.” Kuroo’s phone was back in the air, pointing at Daichi. “You give a shout-out to him, then see what his plans are for tonight. Maybe mention how much you drooled over him.” “I didn’t drool,” Daichi protested instantly, Kuroo waving his hand before he gave a thumbs up. Taking that as a sign that his friend was recording, Daichi awkwardly played with the pen in front of him as he tried to give a smile that didn’t show his uneasiness. “Hey, uh...mystery guy. What are you doing tonight? Hopefully not a paper like me.” “Because mentioning you’re a loser doing term work on the most romantic day of the year is a real good way to catch his attention,” Kuroo commented, snickering at how red Daichi’s face got before he sent the snap out. Crumpling a piece of blank paper, Daichi tossed it at Kuroo’s head, laughing when it got snagged by the tangled mess of black hair. Kuroo frowned as he ripped the paper from his hair, Daichi returning his focus onto his paper. Or, tried to at least. Though the studious man wanted to forgot about the past few minutes to get his homework done, Daichi knew his eyes would casually float back to phone that was held hostage in Kuroo’s hands. He didn’t want to seem like he was waiting for a response from someone he’d never even met before, yet there was no denying his heart would stutter in its beat whenever Kuroo’s phone vibrated with a notification. After ten minutes of waiting for his lackadaisical friend to turn his attention back to the snapchat story, Daichi wondered if he’d even get a response. Maybe the guy was just teasing him. Or maybe he meant someone else on the story feed. There had to be other people who were wearing a sweatshirt, right? Who said it was just him that- “He answered.” Daichi didn’t wait for Kuroo to give him the phone; the man was out of his seat and moving to see the screen before his mind could chastise him for the impatient movement. Looking over Kuroo’s shoulder, Daichi waited for the application to pop up again, his smile instant when seeing the fair haired man return to the feed. “To the handsome Karasuno nerd: I’m working until nine, then I’m going to the ‘Kick Cupid’s Ass’ barcrawl. You think you could come?” The hopeful gleam in the hazel eyes gave Daichi the hint that this guy was just as interested in meeting up as him, though the education student tried not to let it show on his face. The last thing he needed was Kuroo making fun of him for getting so hopeful over a lame conversation between snapchats on the school’s newsfeed. “Well would you look at that; the kid’s got bigger balls than you do. He’s asking you out on a date for valentine’s day. You sexy man! ” Kuroo’s words should have made him grin in pride (or slap him for the earlier insult), but instead Daichi groaned and dropped his forehead onto the table in front of them, crumpling into the seat beside Kuroo. “I can’t go out tonight; my paper is due by midnight.” “Can’t you just bullshit the rest of it and call it a day? You could get an F on this thing and still end up with a passing grade in the class; Takeda-san loves you.” While the statement was probably true, Daichi shook his head against the cool tabletop. “I really want a good grade on this paper.” Snagging the phone, Daichi lifted his head and waited until the camera focused back on his face before he held the little circle Kuroo had pointed to. Once seeing the red line start to circle the record button, Daichi tilted the camera to take a glimpse of the work on the table before he spoke. “To the mystery guy with the kind smile; I’m not sure if I can, I’ve got a huge paper due for midnight.” Once he saw the video being played back to him, he dropped his hand to the table, letting Kuroo take over and post the video. His eyes were hooded as he stared at his arm, wondering if it was a blessing or curse to be so dedicated to his schooling. The student he was talking with via snapchat was attractive and seemed nice. It had been a while since someone had openly admitted their interest in Daichi, and he was probably a fool for letting a paper get in the way of meeting the man. The phone’s screen loaded with new responses on the Karasuno newsfeed, the same silly duo from before now donning Karasuno jerseys to ‘help up their game’. The following snap was a familiar tall man who looked way too old to be in college, though Daichi knew that wasn’t the case. Asahi had been in Daichi’s child psychology class last semester, and the shy man was living proof you couldn’t judge a book by it’s cover. The man seemed to be holed up in his room, his snap of the books in his lap showing he was in the same predicament that Daichi was. He gave a sympathizing smile before the screen flashed to a face Daichi saw way too often. “You little pussy!” Bokuto’s loud call in the phone caused Kuroo to burst out in laughter, the librarian shaking her head but not voicing her displeasure. Bokuto’s video continued, seeming to ignore his responsibilities for setting up his DJ equipment. “Stop being a dork and take this hot mystery guy out on a date!” “Well, he’s got a point,” Kuroo chimed in, Daichi rolling his eyes to see another person had responded on the news feed. “This isn’t a dating website, you know. Focus on your paper.” The blond haired man scowled under his thick rimmed glasses, contrasting the mousy looking friend who laid next to him on the bed. The freckles and wide brown eyes showed more interest in the feed than his sassy friend, mouthing ‘good luck!’ over the pale man’s shoulder before the video cut off. Though a bit snarky, Daichi knew the last person’s message was right. If he continued to play on the newsfeed, then he would not only miss out on the date, but he wouldn’t finish his paper. Choosing between the two was tough, but he wasn’t going to fail both with his indecision. “Ah, papers are tough!” Except the sweet voice of his mystery man pulled his desire to return to his work right out of him. The small frown on the pale face was not what Daichi wanted to see, pulling at his stomach while the silver hair was swept out of the man’s pretty eyes. “Well if you can finish your paper, you should try to find me before midnight. I’d love to meet you. Wish me luck, Karasuno college!” A wink was the last thing Daichi saw before the screen went black, and he felt his tense shoulders relax at the playful gesture. He didn’t know this guy from a hole in the wall, yet his simple gestures eased the education student instantly. He empathized but still seemed hopeful that Daichi could meet up sometime during the night. He even gave him until midnight. It seemed too easy for the attractive guy to put faith in Daichi. And though his paper was important to him, he didn’t want to let the other student down. “You have to go to this barhop!” Kuroo’s exclamation made Daichi groan, pushing himself off the table and shuffling back to where his papers were. The chair squeaked from how the student dropped his weight with no resistance, Daichi shaking his head slowly. “I can’t.” “Dude, you’re a geotag!” “A what?” Moaning at Daichi’s ignorance, Kuroo spun his phone back around and showed the familiar screen of the snapchat feed. People on the Karasuno collegefeed were chatting away about the most recent exchange between the two, which felt surreal to Daichi already. But now, at the bottom of their screens, was a banner with the orange and black colors the college was known for. In it, the words ‘Karasuno nerd, Find your Mystery Guy!’ were written in bold white letters. Daichi blinked in surprise, wondering why the banner had appeared. Kuroo looked happy, but not smug enough to take credit for it. So then, who had made the sign? “It’s what happens when something is trending on the snap feed. You two are like, stars now. And everyone is talking about you ditching your paper to go find this guy!” “Unless Takeda-san gets on there and tells me to forget the paper, I can’t. The sooner you let me focus on it, the quicker I’ll get it finished and maybe have enough time to try and find this guy.” Which seemed unlikely at this point. The clock had just turned to 8pm, which meant that the library was closing. Sighing as he grabbed his stuff, Daichi looked over to his friend who was now flipping the camera onto his own goofy smile. “This is a mission for all; find Takeda-sensei and tell him there’s love on the line! May the odds ever be in your favor.” “Did you just steal a line from the Hunger Games?” Kuroo grinned in response to Daichi’s question, the serious student shaking his head at the two made their way out of the library. The cold air smacked Daichi’s cheeks hard, and he yanked his papers closer to him. The taller of the two seemed to take no issue in wrapping an arm over Daichi’s shoulders, though the education student couldn’t complain about the warm that came with it. Even if he was a bit of a pain, Kuroo always looked out for his friends, and had no problem sharing the furnace-like warmth that seemed to come naturally from him. There were no ill intentions with the touch, as Daichi knew just how committed Kuroo was to his short and quiet boyfriend. Even still, sometimes he wondered if others misread their closeness as something else. As the two walked the desolated sidewalk toward Daichi’s dorm room, Kuroo continued to show the newsfeed and Daichi’s growing popularity. The pair of ‘lonely’ underclassmen were not above pimping themselves for a date, the shorter man seeming to take interest in ‘the cute guy with the beard’. In response, the red-faced Asahi mumbled a quiet ‘y-you’re nice looking, too’ before saying he wished the mystery guy good luck. The man with glasses took no shame in calling Daichi a loser, though his freckled friend snuck the geofilter on the bottom with a drawn heart on the side. All forms of praise for his beauty-marked valentine and attempts to persuade Daichi to ditch the paper flooded the news feed. But there was one pair that caught both men’s interest the most. “Alright! Mission accepted! Me and Bakayama are on the case.” With bright orange hair and a grin that plastered itself over his cherub face, a tiny guy was hopping around what looked to be a gymnasium. Behind him, a lanky student was glaring at his back, shouting insults despite the camera being on them. It was a weird duo, for sure, but Daichi couldn’t help admiring their spunk. “What could they even do? It’s not like Tanaka-senpai is still at the college,” Daichi argued, leading his friend up the flight of stairs to his dorm. Kuroo shrugged, not wasting time claiming the couch when Daichi opened the door. His hands crossed behind his head as he let out a content sigh, his shoes a mess by his feet while he stretched. “You can never underestimate the small ones; they’re the sneakiest.” “You only say that because Kenma beats you in Monopoly every time we play,” Daichi argued, sneaking into his kitchen to grab a granola bar before tossing one toward his lazy friend. Even without seeing the toss, Kuroo snagged it from the air like it was nothing, unwrapping the snack and popping it into his mouth in seconds. “I swear he cheats. How does he manage to convince me to give him boardwalk every time?” Chomping another piece of his treat, Kuroo watched Daichi move into the recliner next to him before he spoke through the food in his mouth. “It’s jedi mind tricks or something.” “I’m pretty sure he just knows you turn into putty when he plays with your hair.” Kuroo tapped his chin at the accusation, and Daichi laughed when Kuroo’s eyes widened at the revelation. “Did you not notice?” “That little monster! Wait till I see him tonight.” Daichi hummed in acknowledgement as he turned his eyes back to his paper, knowing Kuroo’s threat was empty. No matter what Kenma did, Kuroo could never stay mad at him for long. It was just how their relationship was; neither could build a true annoyance with the other. Was that because they were in love, or because they had been friends since they were babies? Though Kenma could get snappy when Kuroo refused to let him play his video games, and Kuroo when Kenma forgot to eat all day, it was never enough to cause real tension. “By the way, Bokuto just clucked like a chicken for ten seconds and told me to pass it on to you.” “How does he do that at his job and not get fired?” Daichi questioned, his fingers writing out a sentence while Kuroo shrugged. “Talent.” And for the first time since the entire snapchat fiasco started, the two stopped talking. Kuroo kept the phone close to him while he turned on the television, and Daichi honed his attention in on paper in front of him. If he wasn’t a perfectionist, maybe the paper could pass as acceptable enough to call complete. But he knew that his reference sheet was a mess, and the closing paragraph needed some attention. So he worked, scolding himself each time that his eyes flickered up to the clock. By now he knew that his mystery guy was out of work, and that he was probably getting ready to go out. And instead of doing the same, the education student was trying to decide if his paper had enough examples to support his thesis. An hour after getting back to his dorm, Kuroo broke the silence. “Holy shit.” The amazed look on the man’s face pulled Daichi away from his paper, surprised at how Kuro quickly crawled over the cushions of the couch. Before he could ask what had happened, Daichi’s wrist was snatched, pulling him out of the recliner. Papers were scattered on the floor in the movement, Daichi nearly tripping over the armrest of the couch from how hard Kuroo was pulling him. “Kuroo, my paper-” “They fucking did it!” “Who? Who did what?” Daichi’s questions were only answered by Kuroo shoving the phone into Daichi’s hands, the calmer man slowly taking possession of the device before looking down to the screen. Kuroo was hunched by his side, quick to click through a few videos that still held the geotag from before. After about six tries, Kuroo finally stopped on one video, where a familiar mop of orange took over the screen. “We found him!” The overjoyed voice was paired with flush cheeks and heavy breathing, the short man’s camera shaking from his excitement. “My coach is really close with Takeda-sensei, so me and Kageyama were able to find him!” There was a pause in the video, as the ten seconds had run out, but the next one that followed was still the same student. This time, his snap was focused on the previous teammate, whose face was bright in color as he stared in a panic at the screen. Next to him was a man who Daichi knew very well; Takeda-sensei. “Hinata brought to my attention that one of my best students may be putting off meeting a very nice man because of my paper.” With a cheerful smile, the teacher looked over to Kageyama before giving him a gentle nudge in the side. “And with Kageyama’s assurance the matter was quite important, I have extended the paper.” A third snap appeared, Takeda-sensei holding a sign with the familiar banner from the geofilter written on it. It seemed a fourth person was holding the phone, as Hinata and Kageyama were on the teacher’s left side. “To the um...Karasuno nerd, I’ve extended the paper until Thursday. Enjoy your valentine's day, and get your mystery guy.” A happy cheer from Hinata echoed in the video as he jumped onto Kageyama, the taller boy quick to wrap his arms around the body before flushing in obvious embarrassment. A masculine chuckle was followed by the words ‘brats’ before the video was shut off. Daichi stared at the screen for a few seconds longer, as if unsure that what he had seen was true. He didn’t have time to really think about what to say about the video before Kuroo was yanking him into the shot, the phone perched up above them as Kuroo grinned. “We owe that freak duo breakfast tomorrow! You’re the MVPs of Valentine’s day.” Then he pointed at the screen, as if talking to everyone watching. “I’ll get him ready, you guys tell me where the mystery guy is!” “Get me ready?” Daichi asked, Kuroo glancing at his outfit before quirking an eyebrow. “You’re not planning on wearing that to meet your hot date, right?” The slight blush Daichi gave in response made Kuroo sigh, pushing off the couch to move toward what he knew was Daichi’s room. “Be lucky you’ve got such an amazing best friend. Go take a shower, I’ll get your outfit picked out.” “But…” Daichi wanted to ask if they even had time for him to get in a shower. It was just past 9:30pm, and they had no clue where his ‘date’ was. Was he even waiting still? What if he had found someone else? “A shower will help calm your nerves, and it’ll give me time to choose something. If this guy wants to meet you, twenty minutes won’t make a difference. Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.” Giving a confident thumbs up, Kuroo turned away from his friend and moved into his bedroom. The grounding words made the education student’s shoulders relax. Even if Kuroo was a goofball, he had Daichi’s best interests at heart. He wouldn’t have put in so much time checking the news feed and offering to get two strangers breakfast if he didn’t. He probably was keeping track of the time just as closely as Daichi. And just as Kuroo had predicted, the shower slowed Daichi’s overwhelming thoughts. “Which way are we heading?” Daichi was shoving his feet into his shoes as the two moved to the entranceway of his dorm. The clock had just hit ten, and neither had mentioned they were now working against the clock. Kuroo’s eyes were back on the phone, clicking through the snaps of encouragement and cheers. “Found him!” A snap of a bartender with a sleepy gaze and well kept hair caught Kuroo’s attention, the pair watching the video unfold. Over the bartender’s shoulder was a familiar sight of silver hair, hazel eyes seeming to look around in curiosity. The video flipped back to the bartender with a half smile, with the caption ‘Mystery Man Spotted, where is Karasuno nerd?’ “Do you know that bar?” Daichi asked, Kuroo scowling as he shook his head. “It was too dark to pick anything specific out.” They clicked on the next video, which held a very unlikely helper for the two. “Ennoshita-san works at the Crow’s Nest on the street next to the art building.” “Tsukki, I brought the popcorn!” ‘Freckles’ dropped back next to the tall blond, a bowl of snacks and an excited gaze falling onto the camera. “We’re cheering for you, Karasuno nerd!” The scrunching of his partner’s face showed he didn’t want the information to be shared, though his helpful hint proved the once snobby student was more interested in the story unfolding than he wished to admit. “Thanks, Tsukki,” Kuroo teased the newsfeed, his snicker recorded before he shut off the snap and turned back to Daichi. “That’s all the way on the other side of the campus; you ready?” “Even if I wasn’t, you’d make me go.” Daichi went to grab his sweatshirt, though hesitated when thinking about how worn down it was. Though he liked the sweatshirt, would it leave a good impression on his date? Kuroo had been bugging him about the ratty thing all week. His eyes flickered over to his button up jacket, wondering if it would be the better choice. “Just wear the sweatshirt.” Kuroo’s tone brought Daichi’s attention back to him, the bed head shrugging before shoving his hands in his pockets. “You’re known as the Karasuno nerd; it’d be weird now to not wear it.” “You think?” But he was snagging the sweatshirt before Kuroo could even nod. Once the fabric was settled over his stomach the two were out of the dorm and on the hunt. Daichi let Kuroo lead, knowing the man was a legend at getting across the campus faster than anyone else (since he slept in late all the time). While they made their way through the campus, people shouted out to them with cheers that made Daichi flush. How many people were following this story? Though Daichi was pretty popular in the college for all the extra curricular activities he did, this felt awkward. If someone had told him the day before that he’d be chasing a phantom valentine all over the campus, Daichi would have asked if they had fallen on their head. But now, the education student could only increase his pace when another snapchat came in with the new banner ‘Karasuno nerd on the Move!’ First was Asahi, who made mention that the bar was the first place for the pub crawl, meaning that they wouldn’t be there long. The second were the jersey wearing pair, the bleached hair shorty loudly declaring that him and ‘Tanaka’ were going to grab burgers at the fast food restaurant just outside of the campus, if any ‘bearded hotties’ wanted to join. A few more random snaps of the bar that the mystery guy was at came up, though the return of Ennoshita paused the two men after crossing the street. It was a video of his valentine standing with a guy that neither recognized, though his hand moving to the mystery guy’s hip showed what his intentions were. Daichi had no reason to be jealous; it wasn’t like they were even dating! Yet the rumble of displeasure was evident in his chest, only dissipating when the silver-haired man pushed the hand away with a clear sign of rejection. The snap’s caption read ‘Mystery guy turned him down because he wasn’t Karasuno nerd!’, and it made Daichi’s lips struggle not to split with his grin. The rush of adrenaline was enhanced when the following snap was from the man of the hour. His cheeks were flush, from the alcohol or the bar Daichi wasn’t sure. Big hazel eyes peered innocently in the camera, his soft voice barely able to be heard over the pumping music. “Where’s my valentine? We’re about to leave!” A pout only marred his lips for a second before the man was yanked out of the frame, the snap ending abruptly. “Shit.” Kuroo’s swear mirrored Daichi’s feelings, the two sending each other a side glance before they started to sprint. He felt silly, a bit childish even, yet the rational side of his brain was shoved way down. The night had no room for reason; if it did, he would still be in his room working on his paper. But the romance was practically palpable to Daichi, and he felt it pounding through his body as the two finally pushed into the bar. The party was still going strong in the place, with plenty of singles making one-night romances. Kuroo pointed over to the bar, where a familiar relaxed bartender was serving a set of beers to a few girls. Daichi didn’t hesitate to run over to the bartop, his breathing momentarily stealing the words from him. “Hey, I know you. You’re the Karasuno nerd.” Ennoshita gave a sad smile when Daichi nodded, his eyes glancing toward the door. “I’m afraid you just missed him; your mystery guy and his team just left for the next bar.” “Damn! How long ago?” Kuroo asked, the bartender cleaning a glass while he glanced to the clock. “Maybe five minutes ago, though he left before I could ask where they were heading next. Sorry.” “It’s okay,” Daichi answered softly, his tired legs making him take a seat at the bar. Kuroo was already sending out a new snap, asking for any new sightings of the pub crawl. The education student knew that the time it took to get to the bar wasn’t long, but their timeframe was shrinking. “May I ask a question?” The bartender’s soft voice was hard to hear, but Daichi nodded enough to show he was okay with Ennoshita continuing. “Do you intend to keep chasing this guy?” “Hopefully not for long,” Daichi answered, smiling. Ennoshita took a quiet glance around the bar before he turned his attention back to the dark haired man sitting in front of him. “It would be great if you found him, but you could probably find someone here to be your valentine now that you’ve gotten snapchat famous. It wouldn’t be as much of a hassle either, and there’s no saying you’ll find him.” “Out of the question.” Daichi’s firm tone seemed to shock the bartender, but the education student refused to back down. “I didn’t abandon my favorite teacher’s paper and run all the way across campus to get anyone. I came to find him.” “That was badass, Daichi.” Kuroo’s sudden praise made him turn to his friend, his face flushing when realizing that Kuroo’s snapchat had been recording. Before he could protest, Kuroo sent the snap, then snagged his friend under his arm to record another snap. “We’re coming to get you, mystery guy. So someone, send up a sign!” “I hope you two find him,” Ennoshita supported, giving the two a smile as they got ready to leave the bar. But Daichi had no clue where they were heading. The Karasuno college campus snapchat was roaring with attention. Tanaka and his short friend ("Noya, he's still looking for his mystery guy!") were cheering the Karasuno nerd on, a new banner proudly saying ‘Find the Mystery Guy!’. The two were walking through campus, and a snap from Asahi proved that the gentle giant seemed to accept the invitation for a late night burger run. Asahi’s snap of ‘I saw a big group calling for Karasuno nerd’ made Kuroo snicker and Daichi groan, wondering if the name would stick with him until he graduated. But finally, a stroke of luck came in the form of a pretty brunet that had snapchatted much earlier in the night. “Look who just popped into my lovely establishment!” The man’s arm was wrapped around the elusive mystery guy, who looked a little embarrassed at the kiss that was placed to his cheek before the snap was cut short. “Aoba Jousai’s bar!” ‘Freckles’ (as Kuroo had deemed him) shouted in the following snap, Tsukki snorting before he snagged a handful of popcorn and leaned his head on his blushing comrade’s shoulder. “Good luck getting in there; that place is packed on tuesdays.” “That bar’s on setter lane,” Kuroo said, peeking up to Daichi with a grin. “Bokuto’s working there tonight. It’s a hike, but we can make it!” “Let’s go.” Daichi nodded in determination, refusing to give up now. He saw Ennoshita’s phone lift when they left, Kuroo later confirming that Ennoshita had posted their departure with the caption ‘Hang in there, Mystery guy!’. The MVPs of the night appeared back on the news feed, Hinata’s lips bruised and Kageyama’s hair disheveled, both sure that the Karasuno nerd would make it in time. A snap of Asahi, Tanaka, and Noya appeared with a set of thumbs up, piles of food barely disguising the arm placed around the shorter man’s shoulders. The phone was then shoved into Kuroo’s pocket, both men focusing on running to the next bar. And Kuroo wasn’t kidding when he said it wasn’t close. Daichi could barely feel his face from running so long. By the time they made it to Aoba Jouisai’s bar, the place was just as packed as ‘Tsukki’ had suggested. There was a line outside of the bar just to get in. “Shit,” Kuroo muttered, his hair running through the mop of hair as he looked at the line. Daichi took a glance to his own phone, showing that they had twenty minutes until Valentine’s day would be officially over. If he didn’t find the mystery guy here, then the whole trip was for nothing. Feeling a rush of stubborn energy spike in him, Daichi ignored his mental embarrassment as he cupped his hands over his lips, making sure to project his voice. “Attention!” The glances of shock should have made him want to sink into the ground and die, but Daichi kept his face firm in determination as he pointed to the bar. “Some of you might not have a clue as to what I’m referring to, but I’m the Karasuno nerd. And the mystery guy is somewhere in this bar.” “Exactly! So let us through.” Kuroo took over instantly, waving through the line with a pride for his friend that was visible. It amazed Daichi that people actually let them through, but from how many people were giggling or wolf-whistling, he had a feeling the students were following his crazy story from hours ago. The sudden modesty he should have felt before was creeping into his cheeks, but Kuroo didn’t give him time to let it rear it’s head. The two paid the bouncer for the cover fee of the establishment, Kuroo yanking his friend into the fray. The place was packed full of people, but Daichi knew where they needed to go first. Mumbling apologies that wouldn’t be heard over the music, the two pushed through to the horseshoe bar that was nestled in the back corner. Bokuto was visible from where they stood, focused on getting the place pumped. People were too busy dancing to the music to be hanging at the bar, making it easy for the two to snag barstools. The brunet from the snap was talking to a pair of pretty blondes, though his attention was instantly caught when he noticed the two people now sitting in front of him. “Oh, it's you two! The stars of Karasuno college. My, you are much cuter in person than those snaps let on.” The purr of his voice hinted at why his tip jar was overfilled with bills, the brown gaze flirty as he leaned on his elbows in front of the pair. “My name’s Oikawa, would you like a drink?” “Not until we find the mystery guy,” Kuroo said, Oikawa giving a blink and a head tilt before he turned to the bottles lining the island behind him. “Well I hate to break the news to you, but that pub crawl left already. Said this place was too crowded for them, which is just silly. The larger the crowd, the more changes they won’t go home alone, am I right?” “They left?” Daichi asked, his hops withering when Oikawa nodded without looking back from what he was pouring. Daichi left out a pathetic groan as he dropped his head onto the bar top. Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore the clenching in his stomach. After everything, he had failed. Everyone had helped out, done their part, but it was all for nothing. The chasing, the pushing back of the paper, the silly snapchats. Everything ended up being a bust. Daichi was going to end his valentine’s the same way he began it; alone. “Here.” A soft clink of a glass next to Daichi’s head made the brown eyes emerge from behind closed lids, Daichi staring at the blue shot in front of him. Slowly he pushed up, his fingers curling around the small glass while he looked up at the smirking bartender. “What’s this for?” “I was told to give you a ‘polar bear’ shot when you showed up.” When Daichi stared in confusion, Oikawa huffed and rolled his eyes. “You know, for breaking the ice?” “Who…” Oikawa stepped out of the way, giving Daichi the ability to see across the bar to the other side. There, sitting alone with a half-drank margarita and nervously clenched fingers, was the man Daichi had been chasing all night. His face was turned away from Daichi, seeming to look around the crown with a concerned frown. The pretty hazel eyes flickered back to the clock hanging on the wall, and it was then that Daichi realized they only had a few minutes left of the night. “What are you waiting for? Hurry up and get your guy.” Kuroo giving him a hard clap on his shoulder and he wasted no time in downing the shot, pushing off the barstool and making his way around the bar. The man was looking out toward the door when Daichi finally sat next to him, clearing his throat to speak. The introduction was never started because his snapchat acquaintance cut him off. “I’m sorry, but I’m actually waiting for-” The man’s eyes finally dragged back to him, widening once recognizing who he was rebuffing. Tempting lips parted in shock, and Daichi felt himself smile as he waved the empty shot glass in front of him before placing it next to the man’s drink. “So I shouldn’t have accepted that shot from the bartender?” Their eyes locked for a few seconds of silence, though the booming voice of a familiar DJ filled Daichi’s ears and courage. “Last song for Valentine’s day, so you better show your sweetheart how happy you are to be sharing the holiday with them! Night Owl, signing off. Hoot hoot!” A song that Daichi couldn’t name started to play, though he didn’t care. The man in front of him was pretty in pink, eyes shining in excitement and nerves. His hair looked really soft, and the teeth that gently bit into his lower lip were perfect. Thick eyelashes fluttered for a moment before the man glanced away to his drink, where his finger was hesitantly outlining the rim of the glass. And with seconds left of the weirdest day of his life, Daichi tossed caution to the wind. “I wouldn’t do this normally, and I’ll probably kick myself in a second, but-” Deciding that explaining it would make the situation even weirder, Daichi leaned forward, his hand cupping the flushed cheek in front of him. The man’s glance met his for only a second before eyes closed, Daichi pressing his mouth to the trembling lips in front of him. The sweet liquor of the drink stained the other man’s mouth, and Daichi quietly submerged himself in the taste. Soft fingertips trailed his wrist before a warm palm pressed to the back of his hand, and soft lips parted for Daichi to deepen the intimate moment. The education student enjoyed the contact with a slow, deliberate kiss, keeping the connection innocent despite how tempting his taste was. He knew nothing about this guy. He had only known about him for a few hours. Yet here, in this moment, Daichi felt complete. The way the man melted into his touch, the softness of his skin, and how perfect their lips matched made up for every crazy thing before it. After a few quiet moments Daichi pulled back, but kept his hand on the man’s cheek while he waited for eyes to open again. “Wow…” A breathy response from the mystery man showed the kiss wasn’t a mistake, and hazel eyes finally re-appeared to stare up at Daichi in awe. “I just got kissed by my valentine, and I don’t even know his name.” “Shit.” How had he forgotten to give his name?! Feeling like an idiot, Daichi quickly bowed his head in apology as he stumbled through his introduction.“So-sorry! My name is Daichi, Sawamura Daichi. I just...we’ve been talking all night, and I forgot-” “It’s nice to meet you, Daichi.” Lifting his head, Daichi watched the kind smile from the first snap shine brightly on the man’s face. “I’m Sugawara Koushi, but you can just call me Suga.” “Suga…” Somehow, the name suited the mystery man perfectly. And it felt really good on his lips. Feeling the desire to say it again, Daichi pressed forward. “I don’t understand why you’re still here, Suga.” “Did you not want me to be?” Suga asked, and Daichi was quick to shake his head. “No, no I did. But I just...Oikawa said that the pub crawl left already.” “Well they did, and I was going to go with them. But then I saw what you said at the other bar. And I thought ‘if this guy abandoned his favorite teacher’s paper and is running all across campus just to see me, why shouldn’t I wait for him?’. And so I told them to go ahead, and I just hoped you didn’t give up on me.” Suga’s smile was bright as he leaned into the hand on his cheek, closing his eyes. “And it sounds crazy, but I’m really happy you found me, Daichi.” “I...I am too.” Daichi felt his heart leap into his throat when Suga squeezed his hand, wondering why the small action felt so surreal. Leaning forward again, Daichi pressed his forehead against his valentine’s, their noses nuzzling as Suga laughed through his blush. The two didn’t take long to share another kiss, neither noticing the pair of phones recording them. “New geotag; Karasuno nerd Found Mystery Guy.” Kuroo grinned as he sent the new video, Oikawa giving a small coo after tucking his phone away. “They’re so cute, it’s sickening to us single people.” The bartender slid a beer over to Kuroo, leaning on his elbow as he stared curiously at the lone man. “So tell me, was this your plan all along?” “Them hooking up?” “Them finding their other half. It’s obvious these two fools were made for each other.” Oikawa’s observation made Kuroo take a swig of his beer, shaking his head as he placed the glass back onto his coaster. “True, but I can’t take that credit. I’m good, but not that good. You can’t plan a love story like this.” “Why do you say that, Mr.Romantic?” Kuroo’s phone vibrated, and Kuroo snuck a peek down at the snap he had received. A small smile reached his lips when seeing a face he had been thinking of all night popped onto his screen. Part of it was covered by a small stuffed animal, the black cat holding a box of Kuroo’s favorite chocolate between his paws. Though the stuffed animal covered most of Kenma’s face, the tops of his cheeks were red, the golden eyes casted to the side in embarrassment. And in small letters, the caption read ‘I saw your Valentine got stolen, so…’. “Because when true love happens, it's those moments you can’t plan that make you fall in love with them. That, my friend, is the beauty of love.”
10143191	What Answer Could I Give	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Dwalin (Tolkien), Original Female Dwarf Character(s), Original Dwarf Character(s)", "Fandom": "The Hobbit - All Media Types", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by FizzyCustard", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "1,046", "Additional Tags": "Romance, Fluff, Engagement, Marriage Proposal, Pregnancy, Romantic Fluff", "Relationship": "Dwalin (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Tumblr Fic Requests", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Ivy was busy preparing a romantic, intimate dinner in her bed chamber which she was currently sharing with Dwalin; the head cook and maids had been kind enough to take her request of food and bring it to the room. Dwalin and Ivy had recently been discussing returning to Moria with Balin, but the affairs of re-building Erebor and re-forming the long forgotten laws of the land had taken precedence. Dwalin had been needed in almost continuous council meetings which sometimes went on for days, debating aid to other lands, the number of workers needed for opening the mines again and writing and cataloguing the new laws.To Ivy’s delight, Dwalin was late again that afternoon. It gave her more time to prepare their evening, which she had also designated to reveal her wonderful news. For the last two or three weeks she had been trying hard to conceal the sickness which overcome her most mornings, rendering her on her knees before the toilet. But she was overjoyed at the prospect of a growing life in her belly. The only other person who was aware of the news was Tauriel, as she had enquired as to whether Ivy’s health may have been in decline. Tauriel had noticed how incredibly pale Ivy was, and how she pushed away the remainder of the breakfast the two women had shared. Normally Ivy had a good appetite, rarely leaving any food uneaten on her plate. The breakfasts that Tauriel and Ivy shared together twice a week had become shortened by Ivy’s inability to hold down food for too long. Dwalin looked upon all the beautiful jewels which had been carefully set into gold and silver. He studied the rings, each one seeming to tell a tale all of its own. Diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, rubies, amethysts, all sitting upon cushions in long, rectangular open boxes.“What brings you down this way?” a gruff voice came. The master of the main jewel store rooms approached Dwalin with a broad smile. “Got a lass to impress?” Teasing Dwalin, the master winked and then began to describe each ring in turn. “This one has got a very nice cut to it, hand crafted by my nephew as a matter of fact,” he continued, picking up a solitaire style ring which had a large ruby in the centre, offset by small diamonds surrounding it.Dwalin remained quiet, letting the master continue talking, not that he was paying much attention anyway. All he could imagine was the expression on his dear Ivy’s face when he presented her with a ring, asking for hand in engagement. They had been courting for only one month shy of a year. Prior to that and Dwalin had always maintained the fact that he knew he would never betroth himself to anyone. However, upon meeting Ivy in Esgaroth, that attitude had left his mind, being replaced by a softness of heart. Years of battle and hardship had hardened Dwalin’s heart, but Ivy had slipped into his life, thawing that shard of ice which had lived with him since he came of age.“This one,” Dwalin said, pointing to a sapphire and diamond cluster ring which was set in silver. The sapphire matched the colour she always wore, and would sit so beautifully against her pale skin.The master took the ring from its cushion and checked it against his magnifier, making sure the stones were cut to the correct size and angle. “Good choice,” he said. “I believe this one was finished only a week ago by my son’s friend. Nice boy.”Dwalin rolled his eyes as the master began telling a story about how his son and the crafter of the ring had met. Hinting that he had to be on his way, Dwalin took out a small bag of coins and dropped them down on the wooden table where all the rings sat. “That should be enough,” Dwalin said.“More than enough by the looks of that,” the master replied, picking up the bag and then proceeding to place the ring in a small box for presentation.Dwalin nodded his head, silently thanking the master, who smiled back and said farewell to his customer. The room was dark as Dwalin stepped inside. There was only gentle candlelight to guide his way around between the furnishings. “Ivy?” he asked.“At the table, love,” she said.Dwalin followed her voice to the table which was to the left hand side of their four poster bed. And there he could see her face illuminated by the candles which were positioned on the table in ornately crafted candlesticks.Ivy got up to him from the table and curled her arms around his waist, pulling him to her for a kiss. They kissed for a short while, savouring their time together. “I missed you,” Ivy said, embracing him and placing her head against his shoulder.Dwalin chuckled. “I was gone but half a day, but I can’t deny that I missed you also,” he replied. “But before we begin what you have prepared, I need to ask you something. Sit down for me.”“I also have news for you, love,” Ivy said, smiling, trying hard to contain her excitement which was bubbling in her stomach. “But you go first.”“I can see it is important, so you go first.”“I may as well just say it. I’m expecting. Our first baby,” Ivy giggled, putting her hands to her face in absolute joy.Dwalin’s face blossomed into a huge smile. “Oh, Ivy!” he exclaimed, getting onto his knees before her. He placed his large hands against her still flat stomach and kissed it. As he looked up at her, tears swam in his blue eyes. “This is a perfect time to ask you my question, now that our future is sealed by a child.”Ivy laughed again, knowing in her heart the question that Dwalin was about to ask. She watched in excitement as he took out a small box from the inside pocket of his tunic and opened it, turning it around for her to see.“May I take your hand?” he asked, swallowing hard in apprehension and nervousness.Ivy placed her hand against her beloved’s cheek. “What answer could I give but yes?”
10161944	Elizabeth	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": "Other", "Characters": "Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by remuslupin_siriusblack123456 [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2008-08-09T00:00:00", "words": "453", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe, Angst, Tragedy, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Romance", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Title: Elizabeth Author: Immortal AussieEmail: [email protected]Rating: PgSummary: There has been a shooting at a muggle night club and someone has died. The person who has died has been identified as Sirius’s girlfriend’s brother. This is how James, Sirius and Remus deal with it.Disclaimer: All these characters apart from Elizabeth and her brother belong to J. K. Rowling. I’m not making any money off this.A/N: I’ve based this story on a real situation. Pretty much this happened to a good friend of mine. I wrote this the morning that we found out about who had died from our year level co-ordinator- I had to go home I was so upset. So yeah WRITTEN BACK IN 2004The StoryElizabeth. One of our friends from school. To be exact Sirius’s girlfriend hasn’t been at school for a couple of days now. Dumbledore has just asked us to meet in the Great Hall because he needs to talk to us about something.“Everyone, you may be wondering why I have called you here at such short notice.” Dumbledore said. “Well most of you know about the shooting in muggle London at the Night Club. Well the person who died has been identified as Elizabeth’s brother.” At this everyone fell dead silent. We of course had all heard about the shooting.“A couple of weeks before hand the Night Club had been burgled so the owner hired Elizabeth’s brother, Thomas as a security guard. Two days ago on Sunday night the robbers had returned and opened fired on Thomas who managed to injure one of them but was shoot in the head and chest before falling unconscious. He was taken to the local hospital and died yesterday morning.” I suddenly realise I’ve got tears poring down my face. Glancing at Sirius and James I see that they were both crying as well. All of us were really close- Elizabeth, James, Sirius and I; he was Elizabeth’s mother’s son from her first marriage. He was only 31yrs old with a wife and six month old son. Once Dumbledore had finished talking and we were out in the hall, we just stood there hugging each other, not caring if anyone saw us. We just couldn’t stop crying. We all loved Elizabeth in our own way and knew her brother quite well as having met him that last summer at their house. Professor McGonagall was leaving the hall when she saw us and told us to come to her office so we could calm down and be by ourselves without anyone interrupting us. She was very understanding, and got us to floo our parents so we could talk to them. The End
10169687	Prey	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Hanzo Shimada, Aleksandra \"Zarya\" Zaryanova", "Fandom": "Overwatch (Video Game)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by hanzopanzo (bigbaras2)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "1,665", "Additional Tags": "Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Femdom, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Cunnilingus, Toys", "Relationship": "Hanzo Shimada/Aleksandra \"Zarya\" Zaryanova", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“Be still.”Hanzo whined and tossed his head, baring his teeth in a snarl that just as quickly melted into an expression slack in pleasure. The fingers pumping in and out of him were stretching him ridiculously wide, deeper than he could hope to reach on his own, and the still-conscious part of his brain rejoiced at finding such a suitable partner, such a strong and large partner who wasn't afraid to put him in his place.“There we go,” the woman cooed, and something else in a language he could not understand. “All you needed was something filling you up inside, yes?”He cried out a high moan and contorted, pressing down as hard as he dared, selfishly demanding more.“No, no, little dragon, you will take what I give you.”He sobbed and screwed his eyes shut, forcing his body to fall lax, both damning and praising the woman at once.“You fickle thing,” she continued, curling her fingers on every push and pull and he gurgled in response, “so cold outside of your season but yet, without fail…”She twisted her wrist, pressing yet another finger inside him and he wailed.“When it comes time you fold so sweetly.”Hanzo moaned raggedly as her pace quickened, filling their heated shelter with slick squelches and Hanzo’s panting breaths. Outside a blizzard raged, but in their hut on the cliff-side Hanzo felt like he was melting into her touch, mindless and completely base as he sought pleasure from her hand.Her name was Zarya. She'd caught him a few months ago, time enough to sample him in many ways both in-season and out and he rankled at the memory of their first meeting; she the hunter, he the prey. He hadn't expressed much interest in participating in a cross-clan hunt. He turned his nose up year after year as his heats lengthened and worsened. It hadn't felt right, it wasn't quite time. This season his clan had practically forced him from the gates when the horns sounded the start of the hunt, and he begrudgingly set out to the far end of their territory, hoping no one unworthy would find him.He’d been bathing in a hot spring, letting his long hair ripple down his back like ink as he washed the journey’s dust from his skin. He'd heard the intruder almost too late, only had time to glimpse a flash of brilliant hair and muscles before he scrambled from the water and made his escape. He'd made it farther than he imagined he would, but on the third day of their chase she overcame him, powerful and potent and alpha. Hanzo’s exhausted body and mind reacted in the only way he knew, submitting to her with something close to desperation and she triumphantly brought him north to nest in her homeland.He'd never been taken before. The men in his village either hadn't been interested or weren't alphas. It was true that this was the first she-alpha he'd seen, and when he first got a proper look at her, when he took in her massive presence and overbearing pheromones, he'd whined and slick had gushed from him like a broken dam. He'd imagined what those hands would be like. Would she be gentle with him? Coo over him like other alphas did with their own pretty omegas? Her attentions were singular and crude, but he loved every second of it.“I bet you wish you had a cock inside you,” she chuckled lewdly as she removed her fingers. Hanzo couldn't deny it. He craved a deeper touch, some part of him screaming to be held down and fucked within an inch of his life. His eyes shot open when he felt something blunt and cool probing at his entrance, much larger than fingers alone. He twisted and looked down and squeaked, saliva pooling in his mouth and slick practically gushing from his hole around the head of the fake cock the woman was holding to his entrance.“Oh yes, little dragon, I know what it is you desire. Did you think I would not be able to satisfy you?”His cheeks burned in shameful arousal as she slid the fake cock through his slick, warming and wetting it. He hung his head and she cooed, lifting his chin with surprising tenderness.“Oh pretty thing,” she said, rubbing over his bite-swollen lips with her thumb, “don't ever doubt my ability to care for you, to nurture you,” she dipped her thumb between his lips and his eyes fell half-shut as he lazily suckled at the tip, “and when the time comes, do not doubt my ability to make full use of you as well.” Her hand dropped to his stomach, pressing right where his womb lay and he gasped, undulating and short of breath. She chuckled and started pressing the fake cock inside him.It was a rigid thing, but plenty warm and smooth from his slick. And big, so big he felt he couldn't breathe as it filled him up, pressing against all those hard to reach spots he could never touch before. It stretched his rim farther than it had ever gone and the burn was both delicious and maddening. He panted half-formed words his alpha wouldn't possibly understand, pleading and begging for her hand, her guidance, and she shushed him, her large hand pressing over his mouth so hard he had no choice but to breathe harshly through his nose, tossing his head and whining, lapping at her palm as a form of capitulation.“Do you wish for the whole valley to hear your whorish cries?” She asked jovially, visibly delighting in his shock at her coarse words. “Another alpha could happen by and steal you away from me. Would you want that?”Hanzo screamed behind her hand as she drove the fake cock deeper with a cruel twist, the gentle curve in its shape that had looked so appetizing at the start now pressed savagely at his soft innards with each thrust.“They would take you like this, sweet thing,” she said, voice heavy with arousal as she watched the length spear into him again and again. “They would not wait for your body to prepare itself. They would plunder you, make you bleed like the days of old.”He couldn't breathe. He couldn't even think past the insistent stabbing in his gut that pummeled his inner walls. His alpha’s hand moved away and he sucked in a gasp of humid, sex-thick air.“They would stay on you for as long as it took,” she said, breathier than before. A quick glance showed her hand down her trousers, working at her own sex.“They would hold you to the ground and r-ravage you,” she stuttered on a moan, both hands faltering as her hips bucked. Hanzo panted shallowly and could only stare up at her, dazed and aroused beyond belief as she kept spewing filth and working at him.“They would stuff you so full of their seed it would leak for days. You would be with child by the next moon, I guarantee it.”Something wild in him broke at the words and he screamed, unhindered and raw as he came and shot his useless seed over his heaving stomach and chest. His alpha cursed and shoved her trousers down, bullying him flat on the ground so she could straddle his face.“Put those pretty lips to work, sweet,” she growled, and Hanzo was quick to comply, panting hotly over her folds and enlarged clit as he tongued into her, licking and suckling as hard as he dared as the pungent scent of her pheromones and slick drugged him blind. She moaned loudly, uninhibited as Hanzo serviced her clit, sucking the large nub and tonguing at the tip, introducing a hint of teeth that earned him a yelp and a smack over his spent cock. He wailed, muffled, and she pressed closer, nearly suffocating him.“Cheeky thing,” she hissed, grinding over his lips and nose. He could feel her twitching, knew she was close, and he sucked and desperately worked his jaw, needing air, needing her. She shouted hoarsely as she came, nearly seating her whole weight entirely on his face as she bucked through it. Hanzo moaned weakly when potent alpha seed shot over his face and in his mouth, clogging his senses and making him drunk with it. She laughed and combed through his sweaty locks, coming off him faster than he would have liked.He could do little else but lie there as she cared for him, panting softly as she cleaned his inner thighs and stomach, wiping away his seed with deft hands and damp cloths. When she reached his face her touch turned a shade softer. She dabbed away his overstimulated tears and cleared away the shiny, slick remnants of her sex as best she could from his beard and he watched her, drunk and satisfied and calmer than he should be.A stray draft swept over him and he shivered, rolling from the wet spot beneath him sluggishly. His alpha chuckled and easily lifted him, carrying him deeper into their home in the mountain side, into Hanzo’s pitiful beginnings of a nest. They both knew it would grow, and would soon be his space alone when he inevitably carried and nurtured their young. She set him down and covered him with furs, pelts from animals she herself had killed and skinned for this specific purpose. Hanzo glowed with sudden pride and satisfaction. She had prepared for him.“Go to sleep, pretty,” she murmured, rubbing his cheek and he pressed into it with a sigh. “You are sated for tonight, but I feel that your season is far from over.”He nodded blearily, eyes drooping in fatigue, warm and content, as Zarya traced over his clan tattoo with a gentle touch. He fell asleep to her lips on his shoulder, over old, meaningless ink.
10142951	Sanctuary	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "J. Hayes, Malcolm Reed, Original Female Character(s)", "Fandom": "Star Trek: Enterprise", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Eireann", "chapters": "6/6", "completed": "2017-03-14", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "12,293", "Additional Tags": "Undecided Relationship(s), Angst and Hurt/Comfort", "Relationship": "J. Hayes/Malcolm Reed", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Sanctuary", "Collections": "Reed's Armory Collection", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Jay laid down his napkin with a sigh. “That was one fabulous meal.”Across from him, Malcolm nodded, finishing the last of his wine. “They do decent food here.”Amused as always by his lover’s wry British understatement, Jay chuckled, and led the way to the vacant armchairs by the hearth, where they sat back to enjoy the comfort of well-made seating, cosy atmosphere and a roaring log fire.He hadn’t really understood why the hell Malcolm had wanted to drive almost fifty miles in the raw, bitter cold of a British January to this pub in the middle of Welsh Nowhere. OK, the flitter took no account of icy roads and the heater had kept both of them snug as bugs on the way here, but still it was a long trip at the end of a couple of hard days. The Englishman had been in talks with the people at a specialized metal producing plant over some changes he thought might benefit Starfleet’s new range of phase pistols (the plant was already internationally famous for the quality of its materials), and when Jay pulled into the parking lot to pick him up his face had been printed with tiredness. At a guess, the people he’d been dealing with the last couple days would have looked twice as bad; Jay was familiar with Malcolm’s fanatic attention to detail.Now, however, he was getting the idea. Here, they were just two anonymous guys who’d driven in out of the night and ordered a meal. The room – of course; Mal would never, ever leave such a thing as accommodation to chance – was already booked.“You’re supposed to be relaxing, not working yourself to death,” he chided gently, hearing the faintest of low groans as Mal too subsided back into the cushions. “These two weeks were supposed to be shore leave.”“I’m on shore, aren’t I?”“But hardly relaxing.”“I am now.” The coffees were set down in front of them.Jay rested his head against the high wing back of the chair and stared into the fire. It reminded him so much of the one in Holly’s place. He thought, a little wistfully, of the house up in Yorkshire, and wondered what his cousin was doing now. Hopefully well wrapped up; the forecast up there had said heavy snow. He was aware, with the corner of his attention, of Malcolm eating the mint that had rested on the saucer and doing something with the wrapper, turning it in his restless, nimble fingers. It was no surprise when after a moment he set down on the coffee table a miniature silver-foil goblet.“It’s crooked,” Jay pointed out.“It’s tinfoil. Of course it’s going to be a little bit wonky!” Irked, he tried to straighten it up, and it fell over.Jay tried (if not very hard) to hide his snort of laughter, and received a glare for his trouble. “So of course you could make a better one!”In all honesty, the laughter had been more for the adjective than for the result of Malcolm’s labors with the silver-foil. Even after all this time, the MACO just loved hearing the Brit-isms his lover came out with occasionally. Aboard Enterprise he spoke with such rigid correctness – you’d never, ever hear the term ‘wonky’ uttered in the Armory. Not – to use another of his crazy Brit-isms – ‘in the reign of pig’s puddin’.’ Still, even though their relationship had become an intimate one they were still intensely competitive. A challenge like that could never be turned down.No, siree. ‘Not in the reign of pig’s puddin’.’He ate his mint and smoothed out the square of silver-foil meticulously. From the other side of the table a pair of gray eyes watched maliciously, daring him to tear it by rough handling. Perfect. He removed his keys from his jacket pocket. Dangling from them was a tiny emergency flashlight. With great care he wrapped the top third of the square around it, smoothing and pressing the foil into position. When he was satisfied, he gently started twisting the free material, and as soon as he was satisfied he had a strong enough ‘stem’ he straightened it out and used his free thumb to press out the remaining foil. A couple of stray corners were folded over and used as reinforcement, and then he spent a couple of moments viewing and tweaking before upending the flashlight over the coffee table, depositing thereon a perfectly stable miniature champagne flute.Malcolm immediately placed his coffee cup on it with perfect precision, squashing it flat.Jay let out a peal of laughter. “Did anyone ever tell you, you’re a really sore loser?”“The few people who ever beat me – yes.” The Brit retrieved his cup and sipped from it, his eyes twinkling. “I’ve managed that a few times.” He grinned slyly across his own coffee. “And I have to say I never heard you complain.”“There are occasions, Major, when losing carries its own rewards.”Hell, he was hot, in the well-fitting gray pants and sky-blue sweater. Jay imagined peeling him out of them in that beautiful, old-fashioned room upstairs, and had to adjust his position slightly to avoid causing scandal to any observant passer-by.He’d been prepared to be unselfish, because the last couple days must have been difficult and the drive here sure hadn’t helped, with good food and wine on top. If needs be he’d certainly have settled for just snuggling down with Malcolm in his arms in the four-poster with its mounded duvet and tartan bedspread, to fall asleep listening to the wind outside whining spitefully in the casement. But it appeared that Mal had other ideas, and if his always astonishing reserves of energy still had enough to spare, then Jay was ready, willing and eager to oblige.=/\=It transpired that Malcolm had more than enough energy to spare. It was late that night when the two of them finally sank, utterly spent, into the all-enveloping embrace of the duvet. The bedspread had found its way onto the floor at some point during the proceedings, and it seemed that neither of them had the strength left to go pick it up and put it back on the bed. The room was warm enough anyway. Though outside the winter night held the land in a grip like death and the reeds at the edge of the river were frozen stiff, the Reed in Jay’s arms was warm and relaxed, his rapid pulse slowing along with the quick rise and fall of his ribs.“I love you, Mal.”He hadn’t meant to say it. It must have been the wine, or the warmth, or the sex, or a combination of everything. Even as the words left his lips he tensed at what could be a phenomenal mistake; it was the truth (a truth he’d only recently admitted even to himself), but was Malcolm ready to hear it?The pillows were as soft as clouds. The head next to his had sunk into it, so that only the upper half was visible. The one eye he could see had drifted shut, and it remained so for a few moments.Then it opened slowly. He took what comfort he could from the fact that at least it wasn’t glaring at him.“I’m not asking for anything from you,” he went on, a little uncomfortable under the steady gray stare. “If you think it’s too early, that’s fine. But I’m just being honest about what I feel.”There was still no reply. But after about half a minute Malcolm hoisted himself out of the pillow, leaned over and kissed him passionately.He responded, of course, for all that his body was so sated now he couldn’t feel so much as a flicker of need. But though he enjoyed the kiss as much as he always did, he couldn’t help suspecting that it was a diversionary tactic his lover was using to avoid answering.Well, it had probably come as a bit of a surprise. And like any good Tactical Officer, Mal didn’t like surprises. Quite probably he’d retreat with the information into his cave, examine it from all angles, consider his response for a week, and then produce it at the least convenient moment.Still – at least he hadn’t thrown a hissy fit. With the lean, naked body pressed up against his and the skillful tongue exploring his mouth, Jay was prepared to take the hopeful view.The long day and longer evening were combining to take their toll. He could feel sleep beckoning irresistibly. When at last Malcolm drew back, he was too tired to do more than snuggle up and settle down. At least for the first half of the night, Mal was happy to cuddle, though by morning the bedclothes were often in an absolute tangle from his restlessness. Fortunately, Jay was a sound sleeper and was seldom disturbed by it.“Feels great not to have to get up in the morning,” the MACO yawned as he switched off the bedside lamp. “Can’t remember the last time I didn’t have to set an alarm clock. We’ll have a late breakfast.”Malcolm was already settled, the duvet snuggled possessively around his shoulders. He mumbled something sleepily into the pillow.The darkness of the Welsh countryside was absolute. There wasn’t even the glow of a lamp from the flitter park to illuminate the window. But hell, thought Jay blissfully, burrowing in to spoon around his lover, it wasn’t as though he’d need it to get a damn good night’s sleep.A second darkness, blacker than even the night outside, washed over him and swallowed him, and he sank into it, fathoms deep.=/\=The cold morning sunshine through the window woke him. The overnight cloud had cleared, and the level rays sparkled on a crusting of frost on the bare ivy stems around the window. Though the heating meant the room was warm enough, still the glitter warned that the world outside was even colder than it had been yesterday, and Jay for one was in no hurry to get up and go out into it before he had to.The bed beside him was empty. He glanced at the clock: just past seven-thirty. Disgracefully late for a working day, but hardly anything like time to get up on vacation, and especially not when you were sharing a bed with a special person you saw all too rarely. Breakfast was available till ten, and although he didn’t expect to leave it quite that late, still there was plenty of time yet for a little extra loving when Mal came back from the bathroom.He yawned and stretched, and kicked the duvet to move it back into position. At some point in the night Malcolm must have gotten up, because the bedspread was back on top of it – fanatically neat, he’d never have tolerated it lying there untidily on the floor.Still warm and comfortable, Jay turned over. Mal was taking a heck of a long time in the bathroom, he thought sleepily, and put an arm out into the space his lover had vacated.It was completely cold.The knowledge took a moment to register. Then his stomach congealed into a solid, icy knot.He could have wasted time checking the wardrobe, but even as he sat up he knew the black holdall would be gone. There was no parka on the back of the door, no clothes laid tidily across the armchair, no shoes neatly side by side beside the chest of drawers.What followed was just a rote that he followed as though living someone else’s life. The check in the bathroom – silent and empty.The look out of the window, at the black running river and the frozen fields beyond it, and the bare woods beyond again. No sign of movement. Not that he expected it.The glance into the lounge, deserted except for an employee scraping out the ashes preparatory to setting a new fire for the day.The enquiries at Reception, where he was told that Mr Reed had summoned a taxi and left early in the morning after paying the bill. Too early for breakfast, too early even for daylight to have leaked into the sky as he fled the scene of the crime. Grimly, Jay ate breakfast; a soldier operated on full rations. While he ate, he reviewed his options.The first, and most obvious, was to accept that Malcolm had never been in the relationship for emotional involvement. If that was the case, there wasn’t much more he could do than to admit he’d made a mistake and walk away, leaving his heart to mend as best it could.It was wholly possible that he’d misread the Brit from the start. He knew, of course, that the man was deeply reserved, which was one thing that had given him such a thrill when he’d finally opened up. Everything he’d managed to find out about Reed suggested he had relationship issues, but he’d managed to convince himself that this was just because he’d never been in the right relationship – till now.Maybe that had been overweening arrogance that had now sprung back to smack him squarely in the face. Maybe he’d mistaken ordinary garden-variety lust for something it never could have been. Maybe he’d been just another notch on Reed’s already well-incised bedpost.Memories of the previous night roiled inside him, as unbearable as they were sweet. Fortunately he was used to keeping his thoughts well-hidden, and none of the guests at the other tables could have suspected that his mind was full of scenes that even in his pain were unbearably arousing. He’d thought them part of something real, something that mattered ... well, maybe he’d been wrong. They’d sure mattered to him, but maybe to the other participant in them they’d just been moves in a well-rehearsed routine – two bodies using one another for pleasure, but touching on no other level than skin.... Bullshit! He’d been there and done that, he was older and wiser and he knew as well as he knew his own face in the mirror that it hadn’t been just a fuck for Reed, no, for Malcolm, for Mal, because that was the name he gasped out at the apex of their pleasure.So – why had he run?He wasn’t a coward. He’d chosen death by suffocation when he’d thought Captain Archer was endangering the ship by trying to save him, faced the dangers of the Expanse without flinching. God knew that even when the two of them had been in their perpetual dumbass faceoff aboard Enterprise life would have been so infinitely easier if he’d been willing to give back a single damned centimeter rather than hold his ground like the stubborn sonofabitch he was. Besides, a coward would never have ended up in Enterprise’s Sickbay as often as he did, and by all accounts the guy practically had a season ticket for the place.Was it emotional connection that scared him?He was incompetent at relationships, by his own admission. Was that incompetence deliberate, an attempt to keep others at a distance? Was it something he actively cultivated, unwilling to risk the pain of committing to a situation he couldn’t control? That was more plausible. Jay paused in the act of drinking his second cup of coffee, and nodded to himself. That was very, very much more plausible. But if that was the case ... what to do about it? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Snow had been falling since early morning, tumbling down out of the sky.The clouds had been piled like dirty fleeces across the shoulder of Pen Hill as Holly drew the curtains to shut out the gathering night. The gloom had hardly lifted all day, and now the dusk was swallowing what the hours of daylight had scarcely touched.Wensleydale was a landscape in white. Even under the low-hanging clouds there was a faint, reflected radiance off the fields, and if the moon came out it would be a world of magic. A hard magic, brutal to man and beast alike, but magic still, with a remote and unearthly beauty. Maybe later she’d check. The forecast hadn’t been promising, and the cold wind was gusting over the high moors and flinging the snow in flurries down the dale; the stark, stripped trees behind the house bore a silver tracery on every twig.In the meantime, she had dinner to prepare – a rich chicken casserole.The room was warm and cosy as she turned back to it. A standard lamp in one corner provided the only light, apart from that of the fire glowing in the hearth. Dickon the cat was fast asleep on the hearthrug in front of it, twisted over so that one leg wrapped his upturned, blissful face.Smiling across at him, she tugged her favourite throw from where it’d been neatly folded across the back of the sofa, and threw it towards the armchair beside the fire. The light from the lamp behind it glowed on the rich grey folds of fake fur as they settled, ready to collect warmth to envelop her through the long, solitary evening. On the small table to one side of it was her copy of Dickens’ Bleak House; she hadn’t read it for years, and was enjoying renewing her acquaintance with the enigmatic Lady Dedlock and the odious Mr Tulkinghorn.The kitchen was small and spotless. Bunches of herbs hung from the drying rack hanging from the ceiling, dry ghosts of vanished summer; the rack in the garden room was already crowded from end to end. On the sideboard was a vase of many-coloured statice, given drama by the dried heads of the Star of Persia Allium christophii and sprays of Honesty, Lunaria annua. All had been gathered from her garden, a harvest of the days of sunshine. She touched one of the papery silver discs of the Honesty, running a finger lightly over its silken smoothness. Her grandma had taught her almost all of what she knew about plants and their uses, but it was Malcolm who’d taught her the Latin names of the flowers he recognised, these among them. For a man whose chief preoccupation was weaponry and explosions, he had a wealth of unexpected knowledge – but then, he’d once let slip that his mother was a keen and knowledgeable gardener. Everything was laid out ready. With the ease of long practise, she prepared the meat and vegetables. The Aga was already warm, and soon she slipped the oven-proof dishes inside. There was far more than she could possibly eat in one sitting, but she always prepared several servings at once, freezing the surplus soup for future use.When the preparation tools and work surfaces were clean again, she checked the timer, switched off the lights and went back into the lounge. In the chimney the wind was moaning, a desolate sound – it had gone around to the east. That was the only time it made that noise, and more often than not it brought snow. She shivered, hearing it. Gwynt traed yr meirw, they called it in Wales: the wind that blows from the feet of the dead.Still, the house had withstood well over two hundred winters and was stout enough to withstand a good few more. If the snow continued for a week or more she had everything she needed to withstand the siege, and good neighbours who looked after one another in the often harsh conditions of a Yorkshire winter. The cottage was battened down and locked tight against the cold, and she had a warm fire, hot food and a good book. There was a special sort of satisfaction in listening to the peevish spite of winter shut out. She settled herself in the armchair, which was winged and deeply padded, worn and comfortable with long use. She was already wearing the knitted slipper-boots that could withstand any stray draught that might find its way through the cottage’s stout defences, and it was the work of a moment to spread the fur throw across her lap and legs, tucking it in around her body. There was a knitted shawl of the same undyed wool across the back of the chair and she swung it around her shoulders, feeling the warm weight of it settle. JJ had knitted her both the shawl and the boots as a gift, utterly unconcerned by the idea that anyone should regard knitting as a feminine pastime; he said it helped him think. “Snug as a bug in a rug,” she said aloud, giving the last luxurious couple of wriggles to settle into absolute comfort. She had an hour before the timer’s summons to dinner, and the tray was already set out and waiting on the kitchen table; in the summer she’d eat in there, with the door open to let in the smell of green growing things, but on winter nights you couldn’t beat eating by the fireside.The book was already open, the bookmark lying across the page. A strip of sky-coloured silk, Loyalty’s blue, a princely hue, embroidered with white and silver York roses. She laid it carefully to one side.The story swept her away to a long-ago England, and soon she was absorbed in it. The cottage was quiet, save for the almost soundless tock of a short-case mahogany wall clock in a shadowy alcove and the flutter of the flames in the hearth. Now and again there was the silvery rustle of half-burned logs settling among the ashes, but all around her the room was a haven of comfort and peace.“Eoo-oooooo-oooooooooooooooow!”The sudden wail startled her so badly she almost threw the book up in the air.Like all cats, Dickon enjoyed his comfort. He’d been ensconced in front of the fire all evening, blissfully toasting various portions of his fur, and there had seemed little likelihood of his finding any reason to leave it till spring came around – except for the necessary excursions to the litter-box and the food-bowl.Now, however, he was standing up almost on tip-toes, his back a frightened hedge, his tail inflated to twice its normal size. And he was staring at the door. There hadn’t been a sound from that direction. Certainly nobody had rung the bell, or even knocked – the sound of the chime would have been deafening in the silent house. The whole world was so quiet it hardly seemed possible anyone could be out there – and who would want to be, in that cruel cold world of snow?But staying where she was while her cat howled in fear at the door was the least possible option of all. With hands that weren’t quite as steady as she’d have wished, Holly thrust away the fur throw and, tucking the shawl around her shoulders, walked towards the door – as a precaution, taking the poker with her.Holding the poker ready, though not in immediate view, she gripped the thumb-turn, took a deep, slightly quivery breath, and jerked the door open.The clouds had cleared. Hard, clear moonlight flooded the garden and the dale beyond it, and the cold bit at her throat.There was no-one there.But the snow from the front gate, that should have been pristine, showed the churned track of a single set of footprints. They walked toward the door and then suddenly swerved aside, going around the side of the cottage.Gathering her courage, Holly pushed her feet into her Wellingtons, stepped out into the snow and followed them.They led to the lean-to woodshed. It had been well stacked against the winter, but by now there was space at one side of it, and the brilliant white light from above showed her a figure huddled there, tucked in as far as he could go into what little shelter it offered.He must have heard the sound of her footfalls crunching the snow, but he did not move or look up. She was knifed by pity. What must it be like to be homeless, in weather like this?“Please.” She crouched down, though prudently out of reach of a sudden grab. “You can’t stay here. You’ll freeze to death in half an hour. Let me help you.”“I’m past helping.”The low voice shocked her so much she almost tumbled over backwards. “Mal!”Dropping the poker into the snow, she dived forward and grabbed him. He was wearing a thick parka, its hood fur-lined, but it was soaked through and icy cold. His jeans were even colder. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets, but even through the coat she could feel the great convulsive shudders that shook him.“Come out of there this minute!” She gave him no chance to refuse, though the utter gracelessness of his movements as he scrambled and stumbled half-upright in her grasp said it was unlikely he had the strength to resist. Towing him by a fold of his sodden parka, she dragged him into the house. He almost fell across the threshold. “Get out of those clothes right now, Malcolm Reed!” she commanded, slamming the door behind them. “All of them!”“C-c-can’t w-wait to get me n-n-naked, eh?” he whispered, with the ghost of an awful grin.“Not there! Here!” She propelled him to the hearthrug, where Dickon had stopped yowling but was now staring at him in alarm, and skipped rapidly out of range of the snow that slid from his shoulders.He tried to comply, but he was too frozen to co-ordinate the movements of his hands and arms. With swift, furious movements Holly started doing the job herself, throwing the saturated garments anyhow towards the kitchen. He endured the process, his teeth clamped to stop their chattering.As soon as the last sopping sock was off, she fetched two warm bath-sheets from the bathroom and wrapped one of them around his lower half while with the other she started ferociously towelling the top half. Once again he endured in silence, until the ghost-white pallor of his skin slowly began to glow pink with the friction and the heat of the fire, and his hair stood in wild dark tangles. Still the shudders of deep cold racked him, and the hands that clutched the towel around himself were numb white claws. She threw the first towel aside, picked up her discarded fur throw and wrapped it around his shoulders and torso. Then, she snatched away the lower towel and began scrubbing the rest of him, completely disregarding any absurd notions of modesty he might have or the occasional grunt of discomfort as she pummelled feeling back into his half-frozen muscles.Not until she was certain there wasn’t a single centimetre of his skin left that was cold or damp did she drag her armchair around to face the fire more squarely and force him down into the midst of the cushions. “You! Stay! There!” she ordered, fixing him with a look that should have frozen him to the marrow. He glared at her. He wasn’t tame, he was just choosing to obey. The wildness in his eyes frightened her, but she glared right back at him until he wrenched his gaze away and fixed it on the fire. Pausing only to pet Dickon (who was hiding under the table), she picked up the wet clothes and marched into the mud/plant room off the kitchen, where she dumped them unceremoniously in the sink to let the worst of the wet drain from them. Then she returned to the kitchen, where she put a saucepan onto the range and upended a bottle over it – one of a store whose contents contained the garnering of the long summer. As it slowly warmed, it released a wonderful spicy fragrance, strong and rich.From a cupboard under the sink she pulled out a fur-covered hot water bottle. She filled it from the tap and put it to one side, and then filled a plastic bowl. She was half way across the lounge with the latter when she saw the flash of fear in his face, and she paused, raising an ironic eyebrow that said he surely didn’t think she was going to push his face into it and hold him down?Of course, he didn’t. He managed a slightly shamefaced grin. Still, as he leaned back in the chair the hand that wasn’t clutching the fur throw tightly around his chest rested on the arm of the chair, and was lightly clenched.Understanding that residual tension, which was beyond his conscious control, she smiled at him to let him know everything was OK between them, as it always was. Quietly and matter-of-factly, she slipped to one knee on the hearthrug in front of him and set the bowl down. Then she slipped a hand gently around each of his ankles. “Trust me,” she said. “This will feel like it’s boiling, but it isn’t.”He allowed her to lift his feet and dip them very slowly into the warm water, disregarding his hiss of discomfort as the heat penetrated. When they were settled side by side she walked into her bedroom and pulled the duvet off the bed and draped it over him, the hot water bottle in its folds; he was still shivering intermittently, though, and it would probably take a while for the warmth to reach the deeper regions of his chilled body.In the kitchen, the drink was now steaming hot and she emptied it into an earthenware cup and took it to him. “Drink it, Mal,” she told him quietly as he hesitated fractionally, his eyes on the cup. “It’s just some of my spiced wine. It’ll help warm you up from the inside.” He’d drunk it before, many times, a welcome winter drink on a cold evening. Nodding, he reached out and took it with a word of thanks and a look of apology. It was probably uncomfortably hot for his mouth by now, but he sipped at it obediently, wrapping both hands around it to warm his fingers.The kitchen timer had gone off while she was getting his feet into the water bowl, so as soon as she saw him finally relaxing she slipped out again and filled two bowls with the casserole, putting each on a tray with a generous chunk of homemade bread spread with new butter. “I think you need to eat and then sleep, love,” she said, bringing a tray in and placing it carefully on the coffee table at his elbow where her book had lain. “Are you feeling better now?”He nodded again. Maybe the familiar taste of her special mulled wine, with the very specific additions she never revealed, had brought back happy memories. “’Lot warmer, thanks,” he mumbled, a look of shame coming into his face.“Then this will help you sleep.” She took the cup from him and set it on the mantelpiece before pushing the bowl down into the duvet on his lap to create a nest to hold it steady. “You don’t have to eat it all if you don’t want to.”He was still a little clumsy about gripping the spoon, but he managed it. Although at first he ate slowly and with apparent reluctance, he soon got the taste and began wolfing it down. Soon the last drop of soup in the bottom of the bowl was being wiped up with the hunk of bread and butter, and he sat back with a sigh.“Wait there and I’ll get you something to wear.” Not without a fleeting smile, she hurried into her bedroom, where she pulled out a Fair Isle patterned ‘onesie’ from a cupboard – something she wore when she’d had a shower and couldn’t be bothered to dress again before bed. For a moment she knew he was bordering on rebellion when he realised what she was expecting him to wear. But in the event he was too exhausted to argue. He allowed her to help him into it and run up the zip, and then stumbled blindly after her into the hall. He usually used one of the beds in the spare room when he visited, but something told her that tonight he desperately needed the comfort of company, and she steered him gently towards her own. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d shared it, after all.“In you get, love,” she told him, turning back the duvet. “I’ll just lock up and I’ll be with you in a minute. And I’ll promise not to ravish you in the night.”The tired flutter of a smile touched his mouth as he got in. There had been times when they’d thought that might happen between them, but despite their efforts their bodies had known better. Sex would have been an unnecessary complication to the deep intimacy between them, and they’d both been more comfortable with each other when they finally accepted that.He looked so cute and so absurd in her fluffy blue onesie, snuggled up in her pink and white floral duvet, it was all she could do not to laugh aloud. But even this irresistible humour couldn’t quell the deep trouble in her heart. What the hell had he been doing, struggling alone in the snow all the way from the train station? Why hadn’t he called? What deep and desperate pain was he feeling, to drive him to run for sanctuary here where he was always certain of finding it?She left him there and locked the cottage down for the night, for once leaving the washing-up for the next morning. It was earlier than she usually went to bed, but an early night wouldn’t kill her, even if she fell asleep straight away – which she suspected would not be the case tonight. Dickon had ventured back to the hearthrug, and stared up at her worriedly.“No, it’s not good, is it?” She stroked his head. “Thank God you heard him out there, sweetheart, because otherwise I think he’d be dead by now.”The thought made her shudder. The gwynt traed yr meirw moaned in the chimney as though the dead were lamenting one snatched from among their number.Holly gathered herself together with an effort. “But you did hear him, and we’re going to find out what’s wrong, and we’re going to put it right if we can.”Half way back to the bedroom door, a thought occurred to her. She looked back at Dickon as though he might have the answer, but of course he wouldn’t. Though as cats often do, he looked as though he knew more about what was what than she did.The bedroom was dim and quiet, its only illumination the tiffany bedside lamp. She undressed quickly, donned her warm nightdress and slid in beside him. She’d thought he might have fallen asleep while he waited – the exhaustion was printed on his face – but it seemed not.It was a fifty-fifty call whether he’d want the light left on or not. After a momentary hesitation, she switched it off.Ordinarily, this would have plunged the room into deep darkness, but the moonlight on the snow outside cast a faint, reflected upward radiance through the window. It was enough to show her the shine of his eyes watching her as she snuggled down beside him.Normally, on the rare occasion when they shared a bed these days, they cuddled up as unselfconsciously as children. Tonight, however, she had to wait for him to make the first move; and, uncharacteristically, he was slow to do so. But after a couple of minutes he put out an arm and laid it almost hesitantly across her side, so that his hand rested lightly on her back.“You can do better than that, Mal.”He moved slowly, almost as though still half-frozen with cold, though as he almost crept to within holding distance the body she slipped her arms around was warm enough now. Even his feet had thawed out.He didn’t attempt to kiss her. His face nestled slowly into the side of her neck, and after a moment she began to stroke his hair, gently and rhythmically. “I’m here for you, love,” she said quietly. “Whatever’s wrong, I’m here for you.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- There was a long silence. So long, in fact, that she began to wonder if he had fallen asleep, as worn out as he must be; but presently he spoke, if only on half a breath.“I’m so totally fucked up.” The rhythm of her stroking didn’t change. “Tell me about it.”Another long silence. Then he lifted his head again and laid it back on the pillow opposite hers. Her eyes had adjusted to the low light now, and she could make out the puzzled sorrow in his face. “How do you get to be good at relationships, Holly?”Ah. “Well, I’m probably not the best person to ask.” Her tone was ruefully humorous. They both knew that there had been a Someone, back in the day, but that ultimately ... well, it was all a bit complicated, and best not talked of; and so there was the cottage, and Dickon, and her garden, and her secret and sometimes dangerous work.“But if there was someone – someone different from all the others – what would you do?” he persisted.Holly considered. “I suppose that would depend on how I felt about him.”His hand slipped up to cup, almost grip, her jaw. “If I asked you if you loved me, what would you say?”“Of course I love you,” she answered serenely. “If you mean ‘am I in love with you’, I’d say ‘as much as you are with me’, which is to say, not in the least.”He began to kiss her. Although it was with passion, she felt that it was not her response he needed, but to understand himself. His proximity, even his weight as he leaned half across her, did not threaten her. She returned his kiss with love, even with humour, but she knew that he would not find in her what he was seeking.After a while, the passion died and he drew back. He looked a little baffled, a little resigned, and even faintly amused. “I hoped you might have... answers.”“I think we both found the answer to that question a long time ago, love.” She stroked his cheek. “There’s no point in telling lies when what you need is the truth.”“Ah! The truth! That mystical concept, rarer than the unicorn and about as hard to capture!” He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “What is truth, and how do we separate it from wishful thinking? Is it immutable, or will it fall away like everything else? How do you know?”It was becoming clearer to her by the moment that his crisis, whatever it actually consisted of, was of a romantic nature. There was one question above all that she longed to ask, but that wasn’t in the bargain, and she held her tongue, albeit with some difficulty.“I think you’re pushing it when you’re asking me for a definition of truth,” she said at last, a little tongue-in-cheek. “But if you define what sort of truth you’re talking about, then maybe I might be able to give you some ideas.”There was another long pause.“If someone ... if someone says they love you, how do you know it ... how do you know what you feel for them, whether it’s the same thing, or whether ... whether putting labels on something doesn’t just make it too complicated.”She considered, running her fingers lightly across his chest. “I think that if you love someone, or they love you, things are never simple. If people were simple, relationships would be simple – and one thing you most definitely are not, Mal, is ‘simple’.”“Sometimes I wish I was,” he said in a constricted voice.“Hey.” Instinctively she knew he was going back into his past, into the things he’d done and had done to him that had robbed him of every possibility of simplicity. Some of them had forged his nature as burning heat will forge steel, and some of them had warped him, but still the core of him rang true. It was not only each other’s bodies and hearts they knew intimately.He moved restlessly. The darkness and quiet of the tiny cottage had often been his confessional. “But what if they knew – if they knew the truth...”“If they were worthy of you, love, if they knew the things that matter about who you are, then they’d love you just the same.” Holly kissed the side of his mouth gently.“But who I was – who I still could be, if the need was there – is that worthy of a good–” He stopped abruptly, and then went on in a lower voice, “of a good man’s regard? Of what he – he says he loves me...”“Then I suppose he means what he says.” She shut her mouth before the words ‘He’s not the sort of man who says anything he doesn’t mean’ could escape. It was entirely likely that Malcolm suspected she’d know who it was who claimed to be in love with him; after all, the seed of their friendship had germinated in this cottage, watered and warmed by her love for them both. But to force the issue before he was ready to state the fact explicitly was demeaning to his dignity, which he valued, even though his state of bewilderment over his new status was absurdly endearing. And besides – though it was unlikely – she might be wrong.“He doesn’t know me, Holly. How can he possibly love me?”“He must know you well enough to have developed feelings for you, Mal. I wish you could believe in yourself the way other people believe in you.”In the half-light she saw him level an imaginary phase-pistol at the gold-embossed Blanc Sanglier in its frame on the wall. He squinted along his arm and squeezed off a shot. “If love was as simple as shooting, the boar’s bacon,” he replied irreverently, twirling the make-believe weapon like a gunslinger, in a way he would certainly never do with the real thing. “Unfortunately for me, in the current situation my sights are off and my barrel’s as crooked as a cow’s back leg.”His tone struggled for jocularity, but from her he could not conceal the real pain in it. She put her hand on his arm and squeezed. “Mal, what made you come here tonight?”This time she thought he wasn’t going to answer at all. But finally, out of the utter stillness, he spoke flatly. “I’ve been visiting a specialist steelmaker’s in Cardiff. He...” He sighed. “Jay drove over to meet me. We went to a hotel I know and we had the most amazing sex. He’s a bloody brilliant lover, Holly...” He glanced at her a little uncomfortably, clearly wondering if he’d been too frank. “We’ve been lovers for a while now, but I thought that was all it was, all he wanted from me ... and then after we’d finished he said he loved me.“Bloody hell.” He sighed again. “You could have knocked me down with a kipper. I had no idea. Enterprise’s top-of-the-range Tactical Officer, knocked flat on his arse by three words he didn’t see coming.”“Mal. JJ would not come to a conclusion about something like that without a heck of a lot of thought. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him mention being in love before.” She hesitated. “So ... what did you do?”A short laugh. “The only thing I could think of to do. Avoided answering, and pretended to go to sleep.”“And panicked,” she said ruefully.“I couldn’t have panicked more thoroughly if pineapple had been declared an endangered species.”She laughed, of course, but she heard the sorrow behind the clowning.“I didn’t know where else to go.” He turned his head and looked at her. “You always seem able to make me feel better about myself. But when I got here, it just fell on me what a complete fucking idiot I’d been. I didn’t ... I’d walked all the way from Redmire and I couldn’t make myself come the last three feet to the door.”“So you thought you’d just sit in my woodshed for a couple of hours and freeze to death instead.” Her fingers in his hair gripped hard enough to hurt. “Thank God, Dickon knew you were there... Oh, Mal!” “I’m sorry.” Another glance. “For what it’s worth, I still was trying to think up some way to confess without making myself look a complete prat, not that there was one of course. I didn’t intend to stay there. But what I didn’t intend to do and what I probably would have done if you hadn’t come to the rescue, might be two completely different things.”He was probably right about that. Outside, the moon shone down on a world where the clear skies had now let the temperatures plummet well below zero. Shuddering at the thought of him frozen stiff out there among the chopped-up logs, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and shook him to drive the point home as she growled, “If you ever, if you ever pull a stupid stunt like that again, I’ll... I’ll...”“Leave me there?” He was genuinely contrite, but the suggestion came with puppy-dog eyes. JJ would have forgiven him on the spot, or maybe he’d have just punched his lights out for being an ass in the first place.Nevertheless, the words were followed almost immediately by a cavernous yawn. If he’d come by public transport from South Wales and walked through the snow for the last few miles, he must be absolutely shattered.“Holly, what am I going to do?” he mumbled, turning to face her and pulling the quilt tighter about his shoulders – as much a psychological indicator as a physical one, she thought. “I thought ... I thought things were OK, that I was handling it better than – than I’ve done before. “I’ve always been useless with relationships. You know I have. Just lately–” a bitter, self-deprecating shrug– “I preferred it that way. I wanted it that way. When it’s just no-strings sex, nobody gets to know the real me.”“But JJ wanted the real you,” she said softly.“He doesn’t even know the real me!” The despair was tangible. “He doesn’t know the man you know. He doesn’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve been ... what I am, in the places where you can’t undo anything, no matter how hard you wish you could.”She felt the gut-deep sigh go out of him, and thought back to all the times he’d been here – sometimes terrible times, towards the end, when he’d been so badly broken inside he’d been almost beyond healing. At last, very quietly, she said, “I think one thing we haven’t covered is what you feel about him.”The silence was so long she thought he’d fallen asleep. Finally, and in the faintest of whispers, “I tried not to care. I tried to think he was just another fuck. But god help me, I couldn’t.“I ... care about him, Holly. I care what he thinks about me. And I think of telling him, think of him finding out and I ... I can’t bear the thought of him turning away from me.” The snowlight found the faintest rim of reflection beneath his lowered lashes. Without a word, she put out a hand and found his, which gripped tightly for a second and then released, remorseful of the pressure that had elicited an indrawn breath, for all her resolution. “You always hurt the one you love,” he breathed. “You see? I’m a destroyer, Holly. Even when I don’t mean to, I destroy people. That’s what made me so good at my job in the Section. They said I was a natural.” She was familiar with the necessity to swallow impotent rage. Nevertheless, for all her experience it still took a moment to choke it down so that she could speak calmly. With her other hand she clasped the side of his face, and even shook it slightly as she spaced out every word. “Mal. You are a wonderful man who went to hell and came back again. I know exactly who you are and I love you. I know what you did and I love you. I know what you were and I love you. Ex-Section Operative Jaguar, you are a special person who deserves to be loved by another special person, and I couldn’t think of anyone else other than JJ I wouldn’t grudge you to.”For a long moment he looked deep into her eyes, and then the smallest smile touched his mouth. “Every time I come here I remember why I love you so much.”“It’s because I make your favourite food.”“Well, there had to be some reason.”“And the other reason is that I tell you when it’s time for you to get some sleep.” She slid up a hand to ruffle his hair, breaking the moment. “And you’re exhausted. Snuggle up, love, and let’s get some sleep. Things will be better in the morning.”She’d been right about his physical state – she was always right about Mal. He was so worn out he didn’t even have the strength left to argue about her optimistic forecast for the morrow. She slept on her right side, so dropping a last, firm kiss on the tip of his nose she turned over, and felt him snuggle obediently up behind her and slip an arm chastely around her waist. He laid his head so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck; at a guess, he found the familiar smell of her hair comforting enough to put up with the tickle of it on his face.“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured.“G’night, Mal.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Normally, Malcolm was an early-bird. Holly knew from experience that most times he was awake before the alarm clock went off, and frequently up and making breakfast. However, as she surfaced from sleep the next morning – some five minutes before the alarm was set to wake her – she realised he was still sound asleep beside her.She switched off the alarm clock, to forestall it going off and waking him, and looked over her shoulder. At which point she couldn’t prevent a huge grin from breaking out on her face.He still looked adorably absurd in her fluffy onesie. Fortunately he probably hadn’t caught sight of himself in a mirror the night before, because he’d have called her every name under the sun for making him wear it – although he claimed to have relatively little personal vanity, he had very definite standards about what a Reed should or should not wear, and a fluffy blue onesie would undoubtedly now be placed at the very top of the latter. He should actually think himself lucky – she’d originally hesitated over whether to get one with a hood and lamb’s ears, and the thought of him waking to find himself wearing that was so hilarious she had to put a hand over her mouth to stop the splutter. Always a light sleeper, it was too much to hope for that he’d fail to notice her slipping out of bed, though she did her best to do so stealthily. His eyes flicked open, grey as the clouds in the dawn-light outside the window.“Hush,” she told him, with a kiss on his forehead. “Go to the bathroom if you need to, love, then get back into bed. I’m making breakfast this morning.” She frowned him into obedience and then slid her feet into her slippers and padded through the tiny hall into the lounge.Which was not empty.JJ was sitting on the sofa, Dickon purring on his lap. As she entered the room, he looked up, his hand stilled on the cat’s back and a look of unbearable apprehension on his face.Fortunately she’d just closed the door into the hall, so Malcolm probably wouldn’t hear her small squeak of surprise. The surprise morphed immediately into delight, however, and she flew across the room to hug her cousin, regardless for once of Dickon’s indignation as JJ stood up and he was dumped gently on to the floor. “Yes, love, he’s here. Of course he’s here.”“I’m going to kick his sorry ass for scaring me like that,” he said softly, holding her in a rib-crushing grip. “He switched his cellphone off – I didn’t know what the hell he’d done, where he’d gone...” He looked away. “I checked out the guest bedroom, and he wasn’t there. I’ve just been sitting here, praying...”“He was in a bad way when he got here.” She looked up at him seriously. “He needed to talk. I don’t think he could think of anywhere else to go.“JJ, this is between the two of you and I’m not going to interfere. But I’ll give you one piece of advice: remember that old saying of Epictetus’ – ‘we were given two ears and one mouth, and therefore we should listen twice as much as we talk’.”He gave her a hollow smile. “So I’ll listen to him after I’ve kicked his ass.”“You’ll listen to him when you take him breakfast.” She turned away to the kitchen.He followed her, and helped with the washing-up that had been left from yesterday. Neither of them spoke, but it was a comfortable silence; Dickon went to the back door, took a couple of horrified leaps into the snow, and hurried back in again as soon as he’d left a melting yellow stain beside the shrivelled last-year’s stems of the fuchsia bush.When all the plates and cutlery and kitchenware were dried and tidied away, she started on breakfast, once again with his help. In no time at all she had a tray ready, with two bowls of warm porridge heaped with raspberries and honey; a stack of hot buttered toast and two steaming mugs of tea completed the array.“You do realize I only drink this stuff for you.” He nodded down at the tea as he picked up the tray.“And you know I only make it because you do.” She smiled up at him. “It seems to be getting a habit with me to have exhausted men turn up on my doorstep. As soon as you’ve settled things with Mal, the first thing you need to do is get some sleep. You must have travelled all night.”“All night and most of yesterday afternoon. Whole country seems to have been just paralyzed by the snow. Don’t you have it here that often or something?”“Oh yes,” she answered sunnily. “Most winters. But we never get used to it. There’s something quintessentially British about our transport infrastructure never being quite prepared for fallen leaves in autumn or snow in winter.”He shook his head, probably at the peculiarity of the British psyche. Then, with a visible straightening of his shoulders, he walked towards the door into the hall.She opened it for him, and turned the handle to the master-bedroom to let him walk through. Then she closed the door behind him and walked briskly to the bathroom, where she turned on the shower, shed her nightdress and stepped under the water, where she began washing her hair, singing as loudly as she could. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Something must have warned him.When the door opened, Malcolm was lying in Holly’s bed, not asleep but probably not really awake, looking out towards the window with its view of a snow-shrouded Pen Hill. He was wearing some fluffy light blue all-in-one thing that – at a guess – was Holly’s; certainly Jay couldn’t imagine it being his own.Considering that the second before he’d probably been drowsing, his reactions were quicker than a cat. He flung himself around in the bed, kicking the quilt away; his whole demeanor showed he was braced for an attack.“It’s just breakfast,” said Jay mildly, showing him the tray. “You left in too much of a hurry to catch any yesterday.”Color rushed into Malcolm’s cheeks. “It seemed like the best thing to do at the time,” he answered after a moment, very warily.“I can understand why you might think so.” He set the tray down briefly on the dressing-table, carefully pushing aside the cut-crystal vase with a posy of Christmas roses in it. “Personally, though, I think talking the thing over before you left might have been more – courteous.”“It wasn’t about bloody courtesy.”“I gathered that.” He picked up one of the bowls of porridge, walked across and placed it on the nightstand, suffocating the urge to throw it at his lover’s head after the scare he’d had. “Eat this while it’s warm, or Holly will kick your ass.” He glanced at the unmistakably feminine one-piece. “I hate to mention it, Mal, but it doesn’t suit you,” he said drily.“After– after– bloody hell, are we reduced to talking about fucking porridge now?”“No, we’re reduced to eating fucking porridge, because Holly was good enough to make it for us. And after that we’re going to have the talk we should have had yesterday morning, and I swear to god if you try to run out on me again I’ll break both your damned legs.” This was said with absolute calm, but its effect was far from placating; Malcolm glared at him. “I’d like to see you try!”“It can be arranged. Believe me.” He returned to the tray, picked up a spoon and tossed it over. “That might come in useful.”Ignoring the predictable suggestion of where he might like to stick his bloody spoon, he sat down in the chair by the dressing table and began to eat his own porridge. Like the tea, it wasn’t something he ever ate except when he was here, but there was no doubt that it was delicious; the tartness of the raspberries countered the sweetness of the honey, and the porridge itself was filling and warming. Although he didn’t look in that direction, he was aware that Malcolm had subsided back down into the duvet and, after glowering for a moment, had also started to eat his breakfast. At least he hadn’t used it as a missile, which had always been a possibility.“Toast?” he asked mildly, hearing the spoon scrape up the last of the milky lees. “Thanks.” It was growled, but it seemed to be meant as some kind of a peace-offering, and he accepted it as such. There were two smaller plates under the one loaded with toast; he pulled one out and placed two slices on it. There didn’t seem to be anything by way of preserves, so he suspected Mal didn’t care much for jam any more than he did himself. Once again he carried the food to the bed, but this time he didn’t set it down on the nightstand and retreat. Instead, he set his free hand lightly on the curve of Malcolm’s neck, and left it there for a moment.The Englishman froze, his gaze fixed on the window.“In some ways I’ve wished ever since that I hadn’t said anything,” Jay said quietly. “In others, I think it needed to be said.” He went back to his chair, sat down and ate a piece of toast, and drank half of his mug of tea before he continued. “I’ve always valued honesty more than anything else, in any kind of relationship. If I’d gone on saying nothing, not telling you how I felt about you – it would have been a lie. A lie of omission, but still a lie. And I don’t know how you feel about it, but to me, what we have is worth more than that. So much more.” “It was easier before,” Malcolm said in a strained voice, looking down into what remained of his own tea, which he’d hardly touched even though he’d been staring into it for the last five minutes.“I’m sure it was. But I did tell you that I wasn’t expecting anything from you in return.”A snort. “A statement like that’s a bit like dumping a phase rifle on the table during a casual conversation and saying ‘Oh, just ignore that, it doesn’t matter really.’”“I’m not saying it didn’t matter,” Jay replied patiently. “You think I go around telling someone I love them just to make goddamn conversation? I said it because it was true. I do love you.”Holly had been exceptionally wise in pouring their tea into stout earthenware mugs rather than the pretty floral ones she also owned, because next moment Malcolm’s slammed back onto the nightstand so hard that it was a minor miracle it didn’t break in half. “Don’t say that!”“Why? Because it scares you?”“BECAUSE IT’S NOT FUCKING TRUE!” he screamed. With shaking hands he began stripping off the one-piece. “This is what you’re in love with,” he snarled, flinging it across the room; Jay caught it in reflex. “The outside. The manufactured product!”With an effort Jay kept his attention from the sculpted, naked body now revealed in the pearly snow-light through the window. A crazy quip that he’d never before been accused of harboring feelings for an item of fluffy nightwear before popped into his head, but he left it unuttered; of all the ways he could react to this situation, making a joke would be the very worst.“I think to some extent we’re all products … of our upbringing, our environment…” he started cautiously.“What the fuck, you think I’m trying to give you a psychology lesson?” Malcolm dropped his head into his hands and took several heaving breaths. “OK. OK. You want to know….”With a sound that was midway between a gasp and a whimper, he straightened up. The movement of his in-crooked fingers down his face as he did so was unnervingly suggestive of someone tearing off a mask, and indeed the man who now stared back across the room at Jay seemed – by some uncanny alchemy – to be a stranger wearing Malcolm Reed’s face. “You checked my history of course,” this stranger said, leaning back against the pillows with a lazy grin that was utterly without humor. “You didn’t find anything. I know you didn’t. Even Captain Archer doesn’t know about me.” His right hand described a graceful arc, encompassing himself. “Meet Covert Operations Agent Jaguar – one of Section 31’s finest. Saboteur, assassin and whore on demand!”“Holly told me a while ago you used to work in Covert Ops.” Jay’s voice was very quiet. “She swore me to secrecy and told me that was how you two met. But Section 31? I thought it would have been MI6 or something like that.” The grin became feral. “Oh come now, Major, let’s not be shy; MI6 is the respectable end of the business. Rather too good for the likes of me. No, Section 31 it was, Starfleet’s Dirty Tricks Brigade. Run by quiet men in back rooms who smooth bumpy roads for the wheels of progress to travel along up in the sunshine. Men who hire the experts who’ll get things done, things that need to be done, things that the ‘good people’ have the luxury of holding their hands up in horror at. Men who turn the needs of the many into the sins of the few.”He laughed, a splintered, joyless sound. His eyes were frozen chips of glee and anguish. “Give me my orders, Major, and I’ll carry them out, yes sir, no questions asked!“Want someone murdered? They’re dead – men, women, children, pet dogs, goldfish and all, fuck it, doesn’t matter, they’re dead. Want someone’s darling daughter fucked on film? I’ll give you multiple orgasms and a dozen copies of the recording. Want a diplomat taken out? Order the funeral. Want a building destroyed? Just give me the postcode. Want a computer system with twenty layers of encryption hacked into? All part of the service.“That’s how I came to meet Holly. That’s part of her job: reassembling people when they fall apart. Healing the destroyers. Putting them back together again – in some kind of working order, so they can go back to the job.“But don’t you dare condemn her for that!” he spat, pointing a warning finger. “Don’t you even fucking think about it!”“My only concern as regards Holly would be for her safety,” said Jay levelly. “But I’m sure she’s already aware of the risks inherent in work like that.”Internally he was appalled by the transformation from the quiet, self-controlled Englishman who was the Tactical Officer aboard Enterprise. Still, he made himself hold the glittering gaze without flinching.“Still think you love me now, do you?” Jaguar jeered into the silence. Without answering, Jay stood up and walked to the window, where he stood looking out. The dale was blanketed in white, a monochrome world of cold. The only speck of brightness was in the garden of a distant farmhouse, where some optimist had hung out a yellow towel, presumably hoping it might dry before the snow came; it hung as stiff as cardboard, each peg doubtless topped by a tiny crown of white.Holly had put out stuff for the birds on the covered table in the garden below. A few early risers were already in attendance. They were British birds, so he didn’t know what they were, except for a robin that flew away to scold in the skeletal apple tree with its burden of mistletoe. A couple of brilliantly blue and yellow little guys swung and argued on balls of fat and seeds, whirring to and fro indignantly; he seemed to remember Holly calling them bluetits. Just then, a shower of snow shaken from the rose-arch over the garden gate caught his eye. Right at the top a small falcon had landed. It scrambled for balance as the bare stem it had landed on gave beneath its weight, speckled wings half-outspread, its curved beak open.A predator, alone in a world without mercy. The small birds fled from the bird table. The falcon shifted on the stem and then took off again, arrowing off across the lane and over the field beyond, hungry and deadly.Sometimes, when you have too much to feel, the mind disconnects. When he came back to himself, Malcolm was out of the bed and getting dressed. He’d donned a pair of tracksuit bottoms and was now putting on his socks, his movements silent and economical. He didn’t look up. Healing the destroyers. Putting them back together again. Malcolm had done what he’d been ordered to do, become the person he’d had to be in order to carry out acts he despised. And the process had broken him apart – proof indisputable that at heart he was an honorable man plunged into a world without honor, where he’d done what he must to survive. Jay crossed the room with long strides, pulled him to his feet and threw his arms around him.The body against his was rigid, resisting. “For god’s sake, don’t–” Malcolm’s voice cracked. “Don’t love me out of pity, don’t–”“Shut the fuck up!” With a single shove he threw him back onto the bed, following him down. And there he went on to prove that what was between them was still strong, still real, still passionate, fighting down the resistance until it crumbled into joy. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Holly had had a quiet, productive morning.She’d made raisin and cinnamon scones and Eve’s pudding and carrot and pineapple cake. A dish of rice pudding was baking slowly in the bottom of the Aga, with a joint of beef on the shelf above. A tray of oil occupied the top shelf, heating up for the roast potatoes. She was just separating the cauliflower florets when the door from the hall opened and Jay came in, carrying a heap of bedclothes which he calmly put into the washing machine. Without a word or a glance in her direction, he loaded it with powder and softener and switched it on. From the hall came the sound of the bathroom door closing, followed by the distant squeal of the shower curtain rings on the track above the tub. “There are dressing gowns on the back of the door in your room,” she said cheerfully, filling a saucepan with cold water. “Take one in for Mal when he’s finished. There’s time for both of you to wash and change, but you can set the table while you’re waiting, if you wouldn’t mind.”“May I ask you a question?” he asked, squatting to pick out one of the neatly-folded white damask tablecloths from the bottom cupboard of the Welsh dresser where they were always kept.“Of course you can, love. Ask me whatever you like.” She tilted the chopping board neatly so the florets slid into the water. “I’m not guaranteeing to answer, though. You know that.”He glanced up at her. “If I hadn’t come up here – would you have gotten in touch with me to tell me Mal was here?”For a moment she frowned out of the window behind the sink, seeing and not seeing the white tracery of snow on the dark tree trunks beyond the wall. “No,” she said at last. “I would have wanted to, of course, but don’t you see, that would have been interfering. When I found out what had happened, I hoped you’d come, I believed you’d come – but one of the things that was hardest for me to learn in my job is that ultimately, people have to heal themselves.”“Mal says you healed him after– when he needed it.”“That’s not quite how it works. More accurately, I provided the environment for him to find healing in. But minds are like bones – they have to heal from within. You can manipulate a broken bone, you can pin it in place, you can splint it and do whatever you like, but ultimately, the bone heals itself. Or doesn’t.” He brought out the tablecloth, and threw it over the small table in its alcove which she’d cleared ready. The crystal candelabrum was on the windowsill, and he placed it in the middle of the table with military precision.He continued the rest of the operation in thoughtful silence. Finally, he leaned on the back of a chair and stared across at her. “Holly, do you think Mal is healed?”She returned his gaze equally pensively for a moment before her eyes softened and she touched his arm, the lightest of caresses. “Sweetie, what difference would that information make to you, truly?”“None at all.”The potatoes were ready to go in for roasting. She took out the hot fat, dropped the potatoes in carefully and turned them to coat all their surfaces. Only when the oven door was closed again did she reply. “With that kind of damage, I’m not sure anyone can ever be described as ‘healed’, not fully. He’s come a long way, but mending wounds as deep as his is a very long process. So long it may take the rest of his lifetime – and never be fully completed. “May I ask why you want to know?”“Because I want to understand how to provide the best support for him that I possibly can. I want you to give me all the help I need, as much as you can. I want to be there for him when you can’t be.”The door to the hall opened at that moment. Malcolm padded in, barefoot, with only a bath-sheet wrapped around himself, and with an absolute lack of artifice or self-consciousness crossed to Jay and slipped an arm around his shoulders, burying his face in the side of his neck. Regardless of the damp, Jay slipped an arm of his own around him in response, and with a downward look of deep tenderness, cupped his free hand gently around his lover’s face. Holly enjoyed the sight for a moment longer, feeling honoured that they shared this most private moment with her freely and willingly, and then turned away to look out across the garden, though her heart was overflowing with joy for them and the scene was one she would treasure forever. She’d spoken the truth: it was unlikely that Malcolm would ever fully and completely recover from what had been done to him. She had helped him in his hours of direst need, and in that lay the roots of a friendship that had endured ever since; but she had always known that there was a deep, wounded place inside him where even her love could not reach. Now, she could hope that finally he had found someone who was strong enough to discover that place and accept it, and thereby one day perhaps – just perhaps – bring about that impossible redemption. The clouds were breaking, out across the dale. A finger of cold, clear sunshine pried through a rent in the grey and laid a stripe of pale gold across the snowy moors high above; a circling buzzard passed through it briefly and soared away towards Nappa Scar. Even as she watched, a second buzzard lifted from the pinewoods and flew in pursuit. Maybe, come the spring, she would sit and watch their courtship flights, high in the clear air. The End.
10179296	Why	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "ナンバカ \| Nanbaka", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Sternstunde", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "528", "Additional Tags": "just some thoughts about episode 19-21", "Relationship": null, "Character": "Nico (Nanbaka)", "Relationships": null, "Series": "The Guarding of a Sick Boy", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	He is getting weaker and weaker with every step he makes. He can see the others walking faster and it hurts. Why does it hurt? Maybe because he didn’t take his medicine and his heart is aching? Or maybe because he knows he’s only a bother and he is getting slower and he’s slowing the others down and his heart is breaking apart? Somehow he knows the answer, and he stops asking himself where his medicine is. It doesn’t matter anymore. And suddenly they are being attacked and Nico can’t remember how much hallways they have already passed. The attacker is a guard and his thoughts are a mess. Then the others are away and only Upa and Liang are there. He wants to cry, because he misses Jyugo’s warm although aloof presence and Uno’s worried glances at him. But it’s better so, because he will only drag them down. And when his sees Liang and Upa being just as lively as those cool heros in different anime and manga, his heart speeds up and he is excited. So, of course he has to launch himself at his beloved master and tell him how amazing he is. Upa’s presence gives him relief and comfort. It makes Nico feel that he has the power to protect him. That he could be a hero as well. But then everything crashes because his heart hurts and he is reminded of a little boy and syringes. He is reminded of fear and of smiles and chuckles. And he isn’t breathing correctly anymore and why is it so hot? Or is it cold? He can’t decide, everything is so bitter and suddenly he sees white. Why, why, why, why, wh- Ah, now everything is black. Right, he didn’t take his precious medicine (his precious lifeline) and he could never be a hero. Never protect someone dear (sorry, Master). He is a monster and suddenly everything is red (a heart just broke apart). And when he wakes up, his master is suffering and he hates himself. They don’t speak about it once he is back to normal. But he can see their glances and he sees the look in Qi’s eyes, whenever he looks at Nico Self-loathe. Qi isn’t at fault, not directly anyway, so Nico decides to change that expression. It’s hard, but the “old man” seems happier. Then he feels a stare and Liang was watching him. It’s mild curiosity, but the boy is too polite to ask, but Nico doesn’t plan to answer. If Liang had luck, Uno or Jyugo might tell him. But what really gets him are his master’s words. Jyugo comes in mind and he smiles, thinking about building 13. They go and with every weakened step and ache of his heart, Nico knows. Nico knows he can trust on Jyugo’s warmth. On Rock’s caring grins On Uno’s worries. Nico knows he can trust the old man’s tired, yet wise glances and his master’s secure smile. His heart is broken and he knows he can’t fix it anymore. So he’ll just take the pieces and give them to the people he cares about. Maybe they can protect them.
10171832	Bruce and Betty Get a	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Bruce Banner, Betty Ross, Fushigidane \| Bulbasaur", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by GroovyLady", "chapters": "4/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "1,706", "Additional Tags": "The Avengers Are Good Bros, Nonbinary Bruce Banner, Pet Pokemon, Bruce Gets a Pet, cuteness, Sunflower Bulbasaur, Pokemon are Pets", "Relationship": "Bruce Banner/Betty Ross", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "The Life of Bruce and Betty Banner", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Pocket Monsters \| Pokemon (Anime)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Bruce is outside Avengers Mansion practicing yoga. They began their usual morning yoga practice since early this morning and it is now late morning. Bruce has finished their final asana when they hear a rustling sound in their sunflower garden nearby. Bruce gets up from their starting position, rolls up their yoga mat, places it into their carrying bag, and drinks from their reusable water bottle. All the while, the rustling from their sunflower garden occurs three more times. They quietly walk over to their sunflower garden and crouch down. Bruce gently pushes some sunflowers aside and sees a baby Bulbasaur wriggling around. They smile happily at the baby Bulbasaur. The baby Bulbasaur waddles towards them and nuzzles their knee. Bruce scoops the baby Bulbasaur up and pours some water into his mouth. The baby Bulbasaur makes happy noises and nuzzles Bruce again. “I’m going to take you home with me, little one,” They tell the baby Bulbasaur. They close their water bottle and put it into their bag before standing up with the baby Bulbasaur in their arms. Bruce walks back home and puts their yoga things away in their room. They then grab their car keys and wallet.“Hi, Bruce! Aww! It’s a Bulbasaur! Where did you find it?” Betty asks her partner as she comes into the room and sees the baby Bulbasaur in Bruce’s arms.Bruce smiles. “I found it in my sunflower garden,” They reply. “I want to keep it. So, I want to go to the store and get the things I need to care for it and the vet to make sure it’s healthy and what its gender is.”“Oh, okay! Then, let’s get going! I’ll drive,” Betty says, taking the car keys from Bruce when they hold the keys out to Betty. Betty comes over and pets the baby Bulbasaur. Bruce smiles more and walks with Betty out to their car. They get into the passenger seat and Betty gets into the driver’s seat. She drives them to the nearest exotic pet store. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Once they get into town, they find the exotic pet store and park in the parking lot. The couple get out of the car, Betty locks it, and they go into the store. Betty grabs a cart and then they go to the front counter and ask for Bulbasaur food and necessities. They are led by one of the workers to the right aisle and are shown the items they need for the baby Bulbasaur Bruce carries. Betty picks up the bag of organic pellets for baby Bulbasaurs and puts it in their cart. They then go to the aisle with bowls for food and water. Bruce finds a food bowl with sunflowers on it and shows it to the baby Bulbasaur. The baby smiles and paws at it happily. “Our baby Bulbasaur likes this bowl! It definitely likes sunflowers,” They say. Betty nods. “Yes, it does! Well, we now know what to look for when it comes to designs on things for our baby Bulbasaur,” She agrees. Bruce puts the food bowl into their cart. Betty looks at the bowls and walks down the aisle a bit before she finds a nice water bowl that has a sunflower on the inside of it. She picks it up and returns to Bruce and their Bulbasaur. “I found this water bowl for it!” Betty says, showing Bruce the bowl. “That’s so cute!” They reply. The baby Bulbasaur makes its happy noise and pawing at the bowl. Betty pets it and then puts the bowl into their cart. Then, they go to the section that has beds and blankets. Bruce looks around and finds a bright yellow blanket. They pick it up and show it to their baby Bulbasaur. The baby Bulbasaur makes its happy noise and rubs its face against the yellow blanket. Bruce smiles and wraps their baby Bulbasaur in the blanket. “I found a blanket our Bulbasaur loves,” They tells Betty when they return to their cart.“That’s great! I found a bed that I think our baby Bulbasaur will like,” Betty says, showing Bruce and the baby Bulbasaur the round sage green bed. The baby Bulbasaur opens its eyes, nods at the bed and goes back to snuggling into its new blanket and Bruce. Betty smiles warmly. “Our baby Bulbasaur really likes that blanket and you, Brucie!” Betty tells Bruce as she puts the bed into their cart. Betty and Bruce continue walking through the store.Bruce looks down as they walk and smiles at their Bulbasaur. “Yes, it does,” They say warmly. “We also need to find a collar, a name tag, toys, and organic treats,” They tell Betty. They find the treat aisle and look for the organic Bulbasaur treats. When Betty finds them, she grabs six bags and puts them into their cart. The couple then goes to the collar aisle. They look through the collars for Bulbasaurs and at the end of the aisle, Bruce finds a wide buckled collar with a sunflower design. They find the right size for their Bulbasaur when it grows more and puts it into their cart. Betty kisses them. They then go to the toy aisle and pick out a variety of toys for their Bulbasaur to play with. They then go to the front counter and pay for all of the items they picked and a name tag for their baby Bulbasaur. Then, after picking up their bags and getting the tag cut off of their baby Bulbasaur's yellow blanket, the couple goes over to the name tag machine and creates the name tag for their Bulbasaur."Time to figure out a name for our Bulbasaur. I like Sage," Bruce says."Yeah. I like Sunny. Sage is a good name, too. Maybe we could combine them," Betty replies."Sunny Sage Banner is the best name for our Bulbasaur," Bruce tells her after they think for a few moments."I love it!" She agrees and types it into the box labeled pet's name and then she enters in their names, address, and phone number into the right boxes. Then, she clicks done on the screen and they wait a few minutes for the tag to be made. Once that is done, they get the circle-shaped tag and put it into one of the bags Betty is holding. they leave the store, put the bags in the backseat, and then drive to the closest exotic veterinarian after looking up the directions on Bruce's phone. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- While Betty drove, Bruce looked up the number of the exotic pet veterinarian and called them to ask if they took walk-in appointments and explaining that they had found the baby Bulbasaur just today and wanted to make sure the baby is healthy. Their walk-in appointment was accepted once the situation was explained to the veterinarian When they make it to the vet, Betty parks the car, the two get out of the car with Sunny, and they go into the vet’s office. Bruce and Betty are greeted kindly by the vet’s assistant behind the counter. They walk up to the counter and show the woman the baby Bulbasaur, who had woken from its nap and was crying from confusion and hunger. “I hadn’t been able to feed Sunny, that’s what we named it, in the car ride over because I don’t have enough hands to grab the food bag and I didn’t want to hurt it doing so,” Bruce explains while they try to soothe Sunny.“That’s alright, Mx. Banner, we have pellets here for various Pokemon. We can feed your Bulbasaur and then you can go see Dr. Luden,” The vet’s assistant replies. Bruce and Betty go sit down on a couple of chairs in the waiting room while the vet’s assistant gets the baby Bulbasaur pellets.Dr. Luden comes out and goes to Bruce and Betty. “Hello, I’m Dr. Luden. I take it you have a baby Bulbasaur you’d like me to examine,” He greets them.“Hi, Dr. Luden. Yes, we do. I found the baby Bulbasaur late this morning in my sunflower garden and I decided to keep it. We bought the necessities we’d need to care for our Bulbasaur, whose is hungry at the moment,” Bruce tells Dr. Luden.The vet’s assistant returned by this time with food for the baby Bulbasaur in Bruce’s arms. Bruce holds the bowl while their baby Bulbasaur happily eats.“Okay. I’ll look at your Bulbasaur. There’s a $30 adoption fee for Bulbasaurs at all Poké Centers that’ll you’ll need to pay and fill out the ownership paperwork,” Dr. Luden replies.“Okay. We can do that after this,” Betty says. She looks up the local Poké Center on her phone. Once Sunny is done eating, Bruce hands the empty bowl back to the vet’s assistant with a grateful “Thank you” and then Bruce and Betty go back with Dr. Luden to get their Bulbasaur examined. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- They get to the examination room and Bruce gently puts Sunny on the examination table. Sunny looks around fearfully. “It’s alright, Sunny. Dr. Luden is just going to examine you to make sure that you are healthy and okay. Betty and I will be right here with you,” Bruce gently tells Sunny. Sunny nods and lets Dr. Luden do the examination.“Your Bulbasaur is perfectly healthy and is a boy,” Dr. Luden tells Betty and Bruce happily.The couple sigh with relief. “That’s wonderful!” Bruce says as they wrap Sunny up in his yellow blanket and picks him up.“Yes. The Poké Center told me that they are still open and can see us today,” Betty says.“That’s great! Since Sunny is a baby, I’ll need to see him again in the next 5 months to check up on him to see how he’s been doing. Andrea-Joy can set up the appointment for you at the front counter,” Dr. Luden says, smiling.“Okay. Thank you, Dr. Luden,” Bruce says. They go out to the front counter and Betty sets up the next appointment with Andrea-Joy. Bruce also pays the $100 for the examination. They thank Dr. Luden and Andrea-Joy again and go to their car. They get inside and drive to their local Poké Center.
10192517	Controlling the Spin	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Kara Danvers, Cat Grant", "Fandom": "Supergirl (TV 2015)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Musetotheworld", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "2,217", "Additional Tags": "Pre-Relationship, set somewhere in season one, Kara is oblivious as usual, Cat is unconcerned and badass", "Relationship": "Kara Danvers/Cat Grant", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Tumblr Prompt Fills", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It leaks overnight. Half of the evening crew is pulled to work on containing the situation, while the remaining journalists attempt to keep things as ‘business as usual’ as possible. The end of the world is no excuse for anything less than perfection at CatCo, why should this be any different? Even if it was far closer to home than some looming threat most people would never actually come face to face with, they still needed to make it seem as if CatCo were unphased by the news. The morning crew was called in early, again splitting off with as many journalists and various employees as could be spared working to control the spin. But without Cat, no one knew what story they needed to tell. And Cat had been unreachable. Not that anyone was surprised at that, not when the leak in question was a video of Cat in a situation barely two steps from public indecency in the elevator of an exclusive hotel from the evening before. No, everyone was very sure of where to find her, but no one was brave enough to interrupt. Not even their jobs were worth their life. Kara was one of the first of the day crew on the scene, and her familiarity with Cat’s typical decisions instantly turned her into the leader of the team trying to get control over the situation. No denials, but no admission either. No trying to bury the story with other news, that would only convince people that there was a story to be found. General requests for privacy that didn’t imply one way or another what kind of privacy they were requesting. It was exhausting work, not the least because CatCo had to have someone on the story as well. They couldn’t risk being scooped by another publication when it was their founder and CEO in question. Finding a balance between joining (and attempting to lead) the pack and trying to divert them seemed like an impossible order, but they couldn’t stop trying just because it was hard. Not one employee thought even suggesting that would be a smart idea. By the time Cat arrived everyone was exhausted, and vaguely jealous of how unreasonably happy the woman looked. She damn near glowed as she got off the elevator, and it wasn’t just the morning sun behind her. Even without the footage you’d be able to tell she’d gotten laid. “Your latte, Miss Grant,” Kara says when Cat walks past her, falling into step and glad she’d remembered to set an alarm on her phone to run down and grab the drink before Cat arrived. The happier Cat was, the more dangerous disappointing her could be. “Why is everyone staring at me,” Cat says as she strolls into her office and sits at her desk, curious but seeming not to care whether the reason was good or bad. “We’ve all been working on controlling the story,” Kara says, shocked that Cat apparently didn’t know why her employees might take more notice of her arrival that usual. She never came in without knowing what the leading story was, let alone when the story was her. “What story?” Cat asks, seeming distracted by something on her phone. And now Kara is wondering if she should be calling J’onn to run tests and make sure it’s really Cat, because this does not sound like her boss at all. “Um, you,” Kara stutters out, freezing when Cat looks up at her slowly, glare quickly replacing the smile she’d been wearing. “Someone at the hotel you were at last night released footage from the elevator. Pretty much every major site with a gossip section is covering it now.” “I want the name of the building manager within the hour, and a meeting before the end of the day,” Cat snaps, reaching out her hand for the tablet that Kara’s clutching like a lifeline. “Let me see what they have and we’ll go from there.” Kara has the manager’s information already, and a meeting scheduled at two, but now isn’t the time to tell Cat that. Now is the time to give her the information she needs to tell her employees what will need done to control the situation. “It’s mostly the video and some general speculation,” Kara points out, needing to fill in the silence somehow. “We put out the normal responses, requests for privacy and all of that, and then Jessica from celebrity news put out an article to keep up with everyone else.” “So Jessica is handling the story so far?” Cat asks as she scrolls through the headlines, occasionally clicking on one and skimming through what’s being said. “Yes, she’s the best at controlling stories. We weren’t sure what angle you would want to take on this, so she didn’t do much beyond report what everyone already knew,” Kara says, reaching over Cat’s desk to pull up CatCo’s version of the article. “Oh, well that is entirely too vague to work,” Cat murmurs as she reads, frowning down at the tablet. “That won’t do at all. Get Jessica in here, I’ll give her a few quotes that will make this the CatCo exclusive it should be.” “You want to move forward with the story?” Kara asks in disbelief, not remembering another time that had been Cat’s decision. “Well, why not?” Cat says, standing and cocking her hip as she hands the tablet back. “It’s already out there, and a little controversy is never bad for sales. How they missed the whole thing with Aniston a few years ago I’ll never know, but I suppose this is as good an opportunity as any. And a one night fling might bring some criticisms, but you know I’ve never been one to care much what they say about me. If they get too bold, I’ll just buy them out.” Only long habit and familiarity with Cat’s whims gets Kara’s feet moving, as shocked as she is by the apparent game plan. It’s Cat’s life and Cat’s company after all, Kara’s only role is to do what’s expected of her. Really, there’s no reason she should be getting worked up over this at all. She just has to deliver a message to Jessica and then her part is done. Except she can’t forget about it, she can’t leave it alone. Especially when CatCo breaks the full story about Cat’s sexuality and how it’s affected her rise to the top. When she talks about how her mother hadn’t approved, but she’d never been willing to do anything but live her own life. That alone makes Kara think, because she’ll never know if her parents would approve of her dating women as well as men. With marriages being arranged on Krypton, there were never any pairings that weren’t a man and woman. Love and attraction were obsolete, marriage and relationships were about families and power, nothing else. And Kara had been too young when she’d been sent away to know if that meant there wasn’t attraction at all, or if it was merely acting on it that was frowned upon and denied. But even if they would disapprove, does that still matter? Kara is on Earth now, she’s the last Kryptonian female alive, and her culture with its strict and formal ways is gone. She will always remember it, she has a duty to uphold it, but does that mean she has to chain herself to the expectations of a dead planet at the cost of her own happiness? She’d always thought yes, always been so conscious of what it meant to be Kryptonian. She’d found ways to keep the traditions alive even as she had to adapt them to Earth. She’d done everything she could to make sure her life and her decisions were ones her parents would approve of, because she’d thought it was her duty. But here is Cat, the woman who still aches for her mother’s approval every bit as much as Kara does, living her life the way she feels is right. Kara has seen the way Cat still reaches for her mother, how she still tries to do everything right to finally get that ever elusive praise. And if a woman who still tries as hard as Cat does is able to live her own life and find her own happiness in the face of sure disapproval, then surely Kara can do the same, can’t she? There has to be a way to keep Krypton's memory alive without sacrificing her own happiness, surely there does. It’s not until Kara finally accepts that fact and still feels as if she’s missing something that she realizes it was never just about Krypton. No, it was jealousy too. Jealousy that Cat was able to live her life, and jealousy that someone else had been the person Cat chose to live it with. Blind, irrational jealousy. It makes the next few days at work harder than they have any reason to be, now that the backlash and controversy of Cat coming out so late in life has died down, it’s almost quiet at CatCo. But that quiet is a curse, because with a relatively slow pace of work, Cat has projects in mind. Projects that require Kara to be present and helpful for long stretches of time. By the end of the week Kara is certain that her crush runs deeper than she’d thought, and now that she’s managed to at least consider the possibility of dating a woman, her feelings are incredibly distracting. She honestly thinks that there should be laws against how attractive Cat manages to be literally every single day. It’s a distraction that Kara is completely unable to deal with. The weekend brings a reprieve, but on Monday they’re right back into the same routine, and Kara is honestly surprised Cat hasn’t caught her staring yet. Winn and James both have, and she’d had to spend an entire day explaining that no she still isn’t gay thank you, but bisexuality is a thing and oh my Rao I’m literally an alien have you guys considered things could work differently for me anyway? Needless to say it wasn’t the most comfortable of conversations, or one she was at all interested in having again. But it got the point across, and warned Kara that she needed to be a lot more careful about how she acted around Cat. If Winn and James both noticed, then for someone as observant as Cat it could only be a matter of time. And as much as Kara wished that she could have a conversation like that with Cat, she knows that the reality would probably be nowhere near what she’d want it to be. Walking out of the interaction with a warning regarding appropriate workplace behavior would be far more likely than walking out with a date. So by Friday, Kara is sure she’s managed to successfully hide what she’s feeling. Cat hasn’t said anything, Winn has stopped sending her pointed glances, and things are slowly getting back to normal. She’s even figuring out how to ignore the constant attraction to her boss, which is helpful in being able to actually focus on her work. But it never stays easy, and just before the end of the traditional working day the editors find a problem with one of the upcoming spreads, and Cat immediately cancels her evening to go through as many of the other spreads as possible, making sure there aren’t similar mistakes. Which means Kara of course volunteers to stick around and help even as the rest of the floor leaves for whatever plans they have. Not her brightest decision, but then again it’s almost physically impossible for Kara to turn away from someone needing her help. Even when that help is just being a second set of eyes. As Cat finishes the third spread of the night she sets it down in front of her the way she has the first two, but instead of picking up another turns to face Kara with a pointed look on her face. “As flattered as I am at the attention, and believe me I am, the staring needs to stop. Just because you suddenly know I’m interested in women does not mean I am interested in one that is taken. You’re very attractive Kara, but as long as you’re with James you should be focusing on him and not anyone else.” “I’m not with James,” Kara protests, mind sticking on that rather than the rest of what Cat said, at least at first. Once her brain catches up, she flushes at the fact that Cat had caught her after all. “Wait, you think I’m attractive?” “Really now, that’s what you got from all of that?” Cat asks with a sigh, but Kara doesn’t miss the flash of interest at the fact that she’s not with James. “Well, isn’t that the important part?” she dares to ask, feeling herself flush despite the bravado she’s putting into her voice. “Mutual interest?” “I suppose you have a point,” Cat says, shifting slightly closer as she does. “At very least, it gives us something to talk about.” And as much as the conversation petrifies Kara, she’s also looking forward to what it might bring.
10163336	Its Okay	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Bellamy Blake, Clarke Griffin", "Fandom": "The 100 (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by JJQuinn", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-07T00:00:00", "words": "2,467", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Declarations Of Love, Sad, One Shot, Tragedy", "Relationship": "Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Pain exits to tell us that something is wrong.Clarke knew that, she always had. She had felt that sensation when the bones of her fingers would cramp after holding a pencil in her hand and sketching for too long, the skin would redden and blister and sting until she could go no further. She had felt that sensation when she had broken her arm after falling from the top of her bunk bed, the crack and snap would've echoed in the room if it weren't overpowered by her piercing scream. She had felt that sensation when her best friend Wells had told her he was in love with her and she had to turn him down, the shattering of both of their hearts simultaneously. She had felt that sensation when her father had been floated for something as simple as wanting to be truthful, the agony of his loss sucked the air from her lungs, tore the tears from her eyes, the cries from her throat, and beat her down until she could no longer hold her self up. Clarke collapsed, completely. Her soul had been ripped from her body, burnt to dust, and she was nothing but a walking corpse of the golden haired girl she used to be.She had felt pain in these situations and many more in the middle because something was wrong, in some cases so much was wrong, and in a few cases, everything was wrong. That was okay, the pain, because sometimes it's better to know when something isn't right than to be oblivious to what is happening around you. Life was to be lived not survived, and Clarke knew that to know what was good she had to know what was bad, no matter how much it had almost destroyed her, or seemed to; she recovered. And no matter how wrong everything was, no matter the pain that would take over her whole and tear her apart, what was wronged was always righted.At least, that was what Clarke used to think.And then… It happened.The event that made the good all come tumbling down around her, the event that threw a shroud of darkness over her life that had been so bright, the event that told her everything that she had once thought and believed in was a lie. Eyes were made for crying not seeing, mouths were made for screaming not laughing, hearts were made to be broken not to love, lives were made to be destroyed not lived. Nothing mattered because she was nothing, she and everyone she had ever loved were nothing but a blip in an endless time line. Their lives, their loves, their memories were but a small blink and you'll miss it scene compared to the vastness of the universe that engulfed them. Her pain was nothing. She was nothing.He was nothing.Yet…Miller brought, no, dragged him in through the front gate, the large mass that she had for a short moment thought was just a dead panther, but then realized from the terror in Nate's eyes and the mane of dark curly hair, that it wasn't a panther, it wasn't just another meal, it was Bellamy. His head was lolling around his shoulders, his lips slighted open, just enough so that a small trickle of blood could fall down his chin. However that was nothing to the scarlet that stained his shredded clothes, that was nothing to the split flesh of his stomach that revealed that inside Bellamy there wasn't goodness or love or happiness, just blood. So much of it. Blood. Everywhere.She stood and stared.It was as though the world had stilled, time was no longer moving and instead was hanging, stagnant and heavy, in the air. Bellamy was being moved across the dirt as people came forward to see what Miller was yelling about. But Clarke was still. Tears stung her eyes, and slowly the world that was once so clear around her, so sharp and vivid and cutting, became dull and warped and far away, so far away. Reaching out for it Clarke tried to grab onto anything that she might be able to hold on to, however it slipped between her fingers like water. She was suffocating. It wasn't as though she wasn't trying; she was, oh, she was. Clarke was trying for with all her might in every next second to gasp the oxygen into her lungs but it just wouldn't do. It wouldn't work. Nothing would work. Her throat was clogged by her heart, which just sat there, hard and unforgiving.Clarke could taste the blood.And then she was running.The next few moments were the longest she had ever thought she had been through. They were wound out long and dragging, because all she could see was Bellamy. All she could hear was Bellamy. All she could touch was Bellamy. All she could taste was Bellamy. All she could want was Bellamy.They knew. They all knew before even she did. She would've been shocked at how the people parted away to allow her to run directly to him, as though they knew, and they did, but she was too focused. The world was black and Bellamy was but a spot of color in her darkness, and that color was red. The ground was hard beneath her feet, and each wheeze of air she took cut through her like a knife, but she kept on running because it was all she could do.He was finally limp on the floor.Miller had laid him down there, using up long seconds of time they didn't have to gently arrange him on the ground. She was on her knees by his side, her jeans soaked in his blood in a way that would forever stain her, and she, too, started wasting time they didn't have, time they would never have because the universe wasn't on their side. Clarke looked at the marred flesh on his abdomen, the skin peeled back, jagged and blunt, and his organs pooling out grotesquely. It was all Clarke could do but to not let out a wail of pure agony because she knew… She knew…And so, she lifted her hands to his now wine colored face, padded her fingers over the freckles that sprinkled over his nose, pushed away the strips of black hair that stuck to his skin, and moved his head to face her.His eyes opened.They were heavy lidded, hazy and almost glazed over. They were so distant although so close, and glassy with tears that, even in near death, he wouldn't shed. But they were looking at her, focusing on her and only her. His mouth gaped open and every wheezing breath he took was harsh and sharp and it hurt Clarke's heart.He reached his hand out. It was trembling and his fingers were curling in on themselves, however Clarke immediately grabbed it, nodding her head vehemently and swallowing thickly and squeezing his hand so tightly she knew he would've hissed if it weren't for the gaping wound the pulled his insides out."It's too late."Bellamy stated it like the full and final truth, but even Clarke could hear the hope in his voice that made bile rise up her throat. Because it was the full and final truth, it was too late. It was too late. It was all too late. She knew. He knew."I'll die."Clarke flinched at those words. She flinched because, despite how true she knew it was, despite knowing that irreparable damage was done to him that couldn't be undone by even the most seasoned doctors Arkadia had to offer, despite knowing that he was gone the minute she set eyes on him as Miller dragged him through the gate, she still had had hope. Fucking hope. Filthy hope. The kind of hope that was useless and had no means. The kind of hope that would always leave just as suddenly as it appeared, and would only last as long as necessary to break you. Because it always did that. It broke you.He had crushed her hope.It wasn't his fault, not really. It was her own fault. All of it. For not allowing him to take the extra bullets he had wanted to because they were running low on supplies. For not even offering to join him on the hunting trip because she had to set up the surprise party for Jasper's birthday. For not telling him how important he was for Arkadia and what he could provide. For not telling him how important he was to her as he was the only one she could fully trust. For doing some of the awful things she had done in the past.For leaving.For returning.For staying.For not telling him she was in love with him earlier."We can't- I can't do this without you." Clarke whispered, clutching his hand so tightly that she could feel the life drain out of him. "I won't let you die, Bellamy. I can't-""-Please."The desperation in his voice; the desperation that made his lip quiver, eyes well up even more and break and plead. God, Bellamy Blake was begging her. It was a sight that Clarke had never ever wanted to see."Tell Octavia I love-""-No," Clarke cut through, her head beginning to shake, wading against the tide of hopelessness, the one that was threatening to drown her. It was futile, she knew, and she still pushed forward. "No, don't you dare say that, don't you dare, Bellamy Blake. You're going to see your sister again."Because she wouldn't listen to him anymore, couldn't, she lifted her head up, facing the gawps that seared her skin.Almost instantly, finding him, Clarke looked right into the eyes of Miller, whose tears she ignored, and said, "why are you still here?", her voice hoarse and thin. He opened his mouth but she just screamed, looking around at the crowd that had gathered, voyeurs, all of them, it was obscene; "SOMEONE GO GET HIM SOME HELP!"Her voice was broken, her face enflamed and eyes stinging as they were flooded, vicious and wild, her stomach lodged in her throat making it hard to breathe, but Clarke stared and stared until a couple of people ran off, dirt dusting in their tracks.And then she turned her gaze down, soft, to Bellamy. She swallowed at how prominent his freckles were against his paling cheeks, hating how beautiful he looked even now, and pressed his hands onto his wound that all but Clarke's hope knew was too long gone. "Put pressure on it, Bellamy, stop the bleeding. We'll get through this; help is coming.""Clarke."It startled her. He said her name as he always had. In the same stern and endearing, almost patronizing yet soft, but hard and easy, tense and meaningful and blue and ambiguous and-"-I love you."Her heart just broke."I've loved you for a long time." A tear fell from the corner of his eye and she swept her thumb across his cheekbone to catch it. His left hand, which had been half mindedly touching at his wound, rested over her other hand. It was sticky in blood yet so, so gentle, so tender. Clarke felt a tear trickle down the side of her face, she felt her heart jump up into her throat, she felt all around her staring down at them, yet she couldn't see them anymore. She wouldn't see them. Only Bellamy. He was all that mattered. Because he loved her. "Remember when you… mercy killed Atom?"She let out a cracking sound; it was all she could do. He sounded so final. Too final."I remember thinking, 'wow, I think could fall in love… with this girl'."He let out a deep, shuddering breath. His hand was still on hers, not as tight as a second ago, no longer rubbing small circles onto her skin trying to comfort her because he was dying, which would've been ridiculous for anyone that wasn't Bellamy. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, the weight of people's grief for him; it was just what he did. But his eyes began to glaze over, and more tears fell from them, more than Clarke could keep up with."I've thought that a million more times since…" he let out a bitter laugh that took almost all of his strength to choke out. "It took me dying to realize it's already happened."Clarke cradled his head to her chest, her hope catching up with her, openly allowing sobs to wrack through her body, "I am in love with you, Bellamy Blake, I am so in love with you and you're in love with me and it hurts so bad, you can't leave me, please." the words were blurs from her lips, very real thoughts that her mind hurriedly spilled out because they didn't have time and it was supposed to make a difference, if he knew she loved him.It didn't.He somehow already knew."You don't need me. We'll always be together.""I do. I need you here more than anything else on Earth Bellamy just- just- stay, please."Bellamy, with every single inch of his strength, raised his violently shaking hand to pull Clarke's forehead to his own. His eyes bore into her own, not piercing in the way she so hoped, but finished, no longer potent with the stars above, but tired, dying. "Remember, we don't get to decide who lives and dies." his voice was barely above a whisper yet she heard it all the same."No- you can't- Bellamy, this isn't what was supposed to happen, how you were supposed to find out- You can't do this- I can't do this without you- I need you- It's not fair.""It's okay, it's okay, okay," for the first time his face contorted into a grimace, and his breaths came out shallower, quicker, sharper, his hand fell limp to the bloody flesh of his stomach, his muscles loosened beneath Clarke's hands, "you're here."And he smiled, and she couldn't fucking take it, she really couldn't."I'm dying but you finally know… I'm happy and I… love you."Clarke had to, she had to, and she pressed her lips to his, smothering the sob that would've escaped her lips, tasting the blood, feeling the grin on his lips, the love in his soul, but not life. It was when she moved away; on the brink of destruction herself, that she saw the light leave his eyes, and his last words escape the lips that she had only just kissed."It's okay, Clarke."But it wasn't.
10156910	What Happens in the	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": null, "Characters": "Ginny Weasley, Bane, Minerva McGonagall", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by ladyroxanne21", "chapters": "3/3", "completed": "2017-03-08", "published": "2017-03-07T00:00:00", "words": "12,416", "Additional Tags": "Please remember that Bane is a Centaur, Thus warning: Bestiality, And while this starts as Non-Con it ends up sort of consentual, Written for 2017 Kinkfest", "Relationship": "Ginny Weasley/Bane", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Harry Potter Kinkfest", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Rape/Non-Con, Underage Sex", "Categories": "F/M, Other", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Ginny sighed as she cast a warming charm on herself, and then wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her head on her arms. Sometimes she really had to curse herself for having six older brothers. No wait, perhaps the real curse was that they were all Gryffindors. Which meant that none of them knew how to back down from a challenge. And so it was that she found herself all on her own in the Forbidden Forest. When the group of various Slytherins had caught her coming back from her walk just before curfew, they'd dared her to spend the night alone in the Forbidden forest. At first, she'd tried to talk them out of it, but when they started questioning her bravery and worthiness of being in Gryffindor House, she'd snapped and told them that spending the night alone – no matter where – didn't scare her in the slightest. “I should have just reminded them that I was actually here for and fought in the Final Battle,” she muttered to herself. Considering that all of the underage students - aside from her - were smuggled out of the castle, and then all of the older Slytherins were basically kicked out, there wasn't a single Slytherin that could have argued her point. Well, Malfoy and Goyle, but neither of them were currently at Hogwarts since they'd graduated the year before. In any case, as a Seventh Year, Ginny really should have learned by now how to tactfully avoid falling into these stupid situations. She exhaled heavily and wondered if anyone would actually notice if she returned to the castle early. Sure, it was only a little after midnight, but since that was well after curfew, surely none of those sniveling Slytherins would be around to see her sneak back into her bed. For a moment, a thought amused her. Her dorm mates wouldn't even really notice that she was gone because she'd been spending quite a lot of her nights in her boyfriend's bed lately, and her boyfriend would simply assume that she was in her own bed. Thinking of her boyfriend – who was just a boy in her year she was playing with until they graduated – made her think of Harry for a few minutes. They had decided together that dating while she was in school and he was in Auror training didn't really make much sense, and so they were still on a break until she graduated and could move in with him. Harry knew that she was regularly sleeping with a boy, and she knew that he'd been having one offs (using magical protection) whenever he needed to relax a bit. So far, it was working out well for the both of them. Also, it made those times when they met up in Hogsmeade that much more special and precious. She smiled just thinking about it. In any case, no one in the castle would miss her unless they specifically went looking for her and couldn't find her. It was a good thing that it wasn't too cold out, since a warming charm was keeping her plenty warm on this spring evening. Thoughts of her upcoming NEWTs preoccupied her for a while, but then she started getting drowsy. She decided to cast a few charms to make the leaves and other debris under her as soft as a bed, and then reinforced the charms that shielded her so that things like ants and spiders couldn't bite her or penetrate her clothes. Then she lay down and got comfortable. At this point, she was just a bit too tired to bother returning to the castle anyway. “Did you know that we have a treaty with your kind?” Ginny sat up in mild alarm and looked around. Slowly, a Centaur stepped into the clearing she was in. The light of the stars and the half moon let her see him, but since she'd never had a chance to talk to any of the Centaurs – other than Professor Firenze – she had no idea who he was. “A treaty?” She asked in confusion. “Yes. My name is Bane and you will never forget me for as long as you live, Ginevra Weasley.”“Er...” she droned for a moment in bafflement. “How do you know my name?”“Because our meeting tonight was written in the stars – just as it was written that you were born on the 11th of the month your kind calls August in the year 1981,” Bane informed her. Then, before she had any sort of realization that she needed to protect herself, he blew a dart at her with a blowgun. The dart was tipped with a paralytic that made it impossible for Ginny to move. Bane approached her slowly, his hands held out reassuringly. “I have no plans to hurt you – well... at least not at the moment,” Bane informed her as he lifted her into his arms. “Tomorrow morning when you return to the castle, make sure you remind all your classmates about our treaty since it appears that the teachers continually telling the students that the Forest is Forbidden for many very good reasons is not quite enough to deter those like you from venturing in to prove your bravery.” Ginny hated the fact that she couldn't move anything other than her head. Right about now, she'd dearly like to hex him and run away! Since she couldn't, she decided to take advantage of the fact that she could still talk. Secretly, she was glad that Bane was cradling her somewhat tenderly rather than throwing her over his shoulder or back – like he easily could have. “What are you going to do? And what treaty?” “Do you honestly not know about the treaty?” Bane wondered with a frown. “Isn't it taught in your History of Magic class?”“Er, well, probably, but I'm not sure anyone ever manages to stay awake in that class,” Ginny admitted in mild embarrassment.“The treaty between wizarding kind and Centaurs states that we will stick to our designated colonies and not hunt nor harass your kind, and in return, your kind leaves us alone.”“I wasn't doing anything to you!” Ginny protested before he had a chance to say anything more.“Perhaps not, but the treaty also says that any witch or wizard who wanders into our territory is subject to our laws,” Bane explained.“I can't possibly have broken any laws!” Ginny protested since she hadn't even started a fire. She'd simply sat just far enough inside the Forest that she couldn't be seen from anyone standing just outside.“That much is true, you haven't,” Bane conceded. “But I'm not planning to punish you. I'm simply following our law and the rules of the treaty that state that any witch caught wandering through or spending the night on Centaur lands is considered fair game.”“Fair game?” Ginny parroted in an apprehensive whisper.“Have you ever seen or heard of a female Centaur?” Bane asked her.“No...” Ginny murmured, a sense of dread filling her.“Then how do you suppose new Centaurs are born?” Bane wondered curiously.“Magic?” Ginny ventured timidly.“Of a sort,” Bane admitted with a fond smile. As they had talked, he had galloped through the forest so smoothly that Ginny barely noticed the movement. At this point, he'd arrived in the main part of the Centaur colony. With infinite gentleness, he lay her on a highly specialized table, and then... Ginny swallowed, her nervousness now turning to outright fear as Bane strapped her to the table. “What are you doing?” “Your fear is adorable,” Bane murmured with clear affection in his voice. “Despite what you might think, I am doing this to ensure your safety.”“How is this supposed to make me safe?!” Ginny asked incredulously.“As you might imagine, a horse's body is not the most graceful. The table provides the proper leverage while keeping you out of harm's way,” Bane explained. “Er... Sorry? I'm not following you,” Ginny stated, feeling confusion mixed in with her fear.“As I said earlier, you were born 16 years ago – nearly 17. That makes you the age of consent among your kind.”“But I'm not consenting!” Ginny roared in protest as sudden and horrified understanding flooded her. Bane shrugged and gave her an unapologetic grin. “That doesn't matter according to our law or the treaty. You are old enough and you are on our lands.” “But you can't!” Ginny cried out, feeling very close to tears.“I assure you that I am perfectly capable. And I promise to do my best not to hurt you more than necessary, Ginevra. This encounter was written in the stars – as well as the fact that you will bear me a fine son. As I said earlier, be sure to tell all your classmates what happens to those who dare to spend the night in the Forest.” Before Ginny could come with up any sort of argument he might listen to, Bane stripped her naked – releasing and refastening each of her limbs as necessary to remove her clothes without her escaping if the paralytic had worn off – which it hadn't. She whimpered because she was certain that he was going to violate her brutally and she couldn't do a thing about it. A look around showed that the table was in the middle of an open area that other Centaurs walked around – sort of half watching in curiosity. “Please don't do this,” Ginny begged in a tear-filled whisper.“I'm sorry that you are so afraid, but I need to do this to have the son I desperately long for,” Bane stated a bit coldly. Then he startled her by rubbing his hands between her thighs. She whimpered again, which made him chuckle. Though she couldn't see it, one of his hooves pumped on a lever that lifted the entire table so that her body was nearly level with his head. “I understand that it will be hard for you to relax, but doing so will make this much easier on you,” Bane advised. Then he pressed his face between her legs. Ginny gasped in astonishment. She wasn't a virgin, so she knew what he was doing. Even so, she hadn't expected the Centaur raping her to bother with stimulating her clitoris. More importantly, she really didn't think that it would feel so good. A moan of baffled pleasure escaped her. Bane responded by chuckling. Then he paused in his task. “One of the things you'll discover tonight is that my species is equipped with a few differences to ensure our survival that humans simply do not have. It is necessary for me to do this to you as my saliva will work to prepare you. It will arouse you – far more than you've ever been in your life, or ever will again... unless you come back in the future. My saliva will also open you up so that there's no unpleasant tearing when the time comes. As I said, I will do my best to make sure I do not hurt you.”“Mmm...” Ginny moaned in understanding. Even as he talked to her, his saliva was working its natural magic on her, making her sincerely wish to squirm and touch herself. Bane continued his task. At first, he simply left a drop on her clitoris so that he could focus his efforts on exploring her soft opening with both his tongue and his fingers. He already knew based on the stars that she was ripe to conceive, but his fingers had an important role in ensuring that she conceived and carried to term. A sort of inherent magic that reinforced her womb so that the baby's hooves could not harm her. As a bonus, his tongue and fingers created a tingling that stimulated every spot inside her that felt good. “Oh sweet Mother of Merlin!” Ginny cried out. It hadn't even been five whole minutes and she was already on the verge of begging him to fuck her in every way imaginable. Her clit felt utterly swollen – like a hard and pointy nipple – and her vagina felt like a lover had taken hours to work her up. At this rate, she wasn't going to have any trouble at all believing Bane about this being the best shag of her life. Even though he knew that it didn't take long for her to be prepared, Bane was thoroughly enjoying this rare opportunity. It really wasn't often that a witch foolishly wandered into the Forest, although it did happened every couple of years because Hogwarts students didn't always have the best sense of self preservation. Also, the longer Bane licked her, the better she tasted. He quickly discovered that there was one spot inside her that made her twitch – now that the paralytic was wearing off. He delighted in rubbing it with his fingers even as his tongue focused on her clitoris. Ginny thrashed her head back and forth and started sobbing. It wasn't that she was in pain or anything, it was just that... Well, she was feeling pleasure on a level she never had before and she didn't quite know how to handle it. Her sobs turned into actual screams as a gushing orgasm completely overwhelmed her. But Bane didn't stop there. The sweet fluid that sprayed out of her was so delicious to him that he wanted to make her squirt out more. His continued attention make Ginny's breath escape her in great heaves as she sobbed and babbled. “Oh God, oh fuck, oh Merlin! Oh my fucking God! Fucking fucking FUCK!!!” Ginny screamed out, curling up the best she could while thoroughly restrained by the table. More fluid sprayed from her, and Bane gulped it down happily. When it seemed like he was going to keep doing that all night, Ginny decided that she was not too proud to beg. “Please! No more! I can't... I can't! Just fuck me already! Please!! ” Bane smirked at her rather smugly. “Well, if you insist.” He pushed on another lever that gently lowered the table until it was at the right height for him to mount her. The table was designed – as he had said – to allow his front legs to rest on indented areas on either side of her head so that he didn't accidentally bash her skull in during copulation. Once his forelegs were in the indents, Bane twisted his human body around so that he could see his long, thick shaft and where it was in relation to her. “You're lined up perfectly,” an observer informed him helpfully. “You just need to move forward a bit.”“Thank you,” Bane murmured as he did just that, using strategically placed bars for both balance and leverage. He took great care to move slowly until he was just barely touching his enormous penis to her extremely wet opening, then he paused to adjust his stance on the table so that he would not slip off. Now ready, he thrust forward, ramming into her rather abruptly. Ginny had been squeezing her eyes shut and was mentally bracing herself for some extreme pain. To her astonishment, she was screaming with orgasm again! It really felt as if his shaft had been specifically made to stimulate everything inside her and her clit all at once, throwing her off the cliff into an ocean of pure bliss. Then he thrust again, and again. Each thrust gave her another storm-like orgasm, making her head spin. Her throat was soon raw from screaming, and her body was shaking not just uncontrollably but also rather violently. If she hadn't been tied to the table, she almost certainly would have fallen off and gotten terribly hurt! On the sixth thrust – and thus the sixth mind-blowing orgasm (not including the two she'd had to begin with) – Bane seized up and howled with pleasure. As he pumped her full, she felt a hot yet soothing pleasure that was comforting. It helped calm her screaming and shaking, letting her relax into something that felt a lot like pudding. She sighed from sheer relief, and then purred from unasked for happiness. Bane took nearly a full minute to simply enjoy the aftermath of his mating. Despite his effort in preparing her so that she could accommodate him without pain, she was still extremely tight on his shaft, and he knew he might never feel this again. For a long moment, he cursed his physiology that made it impossible to hold out longer than six to eight thrusts. That said, she might not have lived through another two or more orgasms - Bane thought as he looked down at her with a fond smirk. Not really wanting to, he pulled his flaccid shaft from her and carefully dismounted from the table. Then he brushed her long and beautiful red hair out of her face and kissed her on the forehead. She was still breathing rather heavily and opened an eye to look at him warily. “When you have the child, you will naturally need to feed him for a few months, but then you will find him to be far too unruly for you to raise on your own. You may come live with him here, or you can simply leave him to my care – the choice is yours so long as you bring him to me. I will have the right to come take him from you if you don't bring him here.“In either case, you will be considered my mate and may come and go as you please, unmolested by any Centaur in my Herd,” Bane explained. “It is my hope that you'll come visit me often.” He kissed her forehead again. “But for now, rest. I'll bring you back to the castle in the morning.” At that point, Ginny couldn't have disobeyed him if she wanted to. It was actually a bit of a struggle to listen to his explanation as she was already drifting off to an utterly sated sleep. She didn't even notice when he freed her from the table and gently carried her into his shelter. Unlike horses, that normally slept standing up unless something was wrong, about half the Centaurs – including Bane – chose to sleep laying on their folded up legs. This meant that he was able to tuck her against his side and keep her fairly warm with the light blanket he occasionally used when it got too cold for even his tolerance. When she woke up in the morning, Bane fed her some fruit that grew in the forest that was full of nutrients. Then he helped her gather her clothes and get dressed. After that, she was allowed the rare privilege of riding on his back as he walked her back to the castle. Their situation was one of the few instances that Centaurs didn't think having a human on their back was shameful. As he walked, he told her some of the things she would need to know for her pregnancy. “Anything I have forgotten, you can always ask of Firenze,” Bane told her, the way he growled the name letting her know that he didn't especially like the Divination Professor. Ginny took a deep breath and gathered her courage. “And... what if I decide to get rid of the child.” Bane stopped walking mere feet from the edge of the Forest. “That is not your right. If you tried it, I would be able to invoke the treaty to have you punished for murdering an unborn Centaur.” Then he sighed as a way to purposely get rid of his anger at her question. “And fortunately, it's not likely to work. Part of what I did to make sure that you are able to carry my son to term also makes sure that he is protected from harm. Short of killing yourself, stabbing your womb repeatedly with a very sharp sword, or having someone cut your womb from you, my son will survive.” Ginny let out a long and nearly silent exhalation. “I... see...” “Try not to be too upset,” Bane murmured, doing his best to be understanding since she had just been forcibly impregnated. “There are a couple of benefits for women who have Centaur children – biologically, there would have to be, otherwise our species would die out. Perhaps you'll find your enhanced strength, immune system, and magical boost to be a good payment for giving me a son.” Ginny didn't like the way he made it sound like this was some sort of business transaction, so she frowned but didn't say anything other than murmuring a wan: “Perhaps.” As it turned out, her friends had noticed that she was nowhere to be found right about the time they were getting ready for breakfast. Her boyfriend had come looking for her, tipping her dorm mates off that she was missing. By this point, a general search of the castle had led them out onto castle grounds. And also, a contrite Slytherin had confessed to the dare. The sight of her emerging from the Forbidden Forest on the back of a (rather handsome actually) Centaur made more than one person gasp in surprise. The Headmistress took one good look at the two of them and let out a heavy sigh. She shook her head and beckoned for Ginny to come closer with one hand. Ginny slid off Bane's back, unconsciously caressing his human back and horse shoulder as she did so. Holding very tight to the shred of diplomacy she still had left considering her anger, McGonagall said: “Thank you for bringing her back to us, Bane. I'll take her from here. I suspect that I'll need to call a meeting with her parents.” Bane nodded in respect for the Headmistress as he turned to leave. “I'd rather you didn't,” Ginny murmured softly so that only the Headmistress could hear her. “I'm of age to consent, and so it's really none of their business.”“So it did happen,” McGonagall stated in a sympathetic near whisper. Ginny nodded in confirmation. “And I'll be of age in just three months, so I'll deal with the repercussions then – you know, after I graduate.” McGonagall nodded in reluctant agreement and put an arm around Ginny. Ginny turned to see that Bane was still watching her even though he was now at the edge of the Forest. She waved to him with a tiny but genuine smile. “I'll see you in a few months!”“Farewell, Ginevra Weasley. I look forward to your return.” With no small amount of confusion, Ginny realized that she was looking forward to it too. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “What happened?” McGonagall asked with what she hoped was her most sympathetic tone. Ginny simply shrugged. The Headmistress sighed and rubbed her temples. It was times like this that she sincerely wished – well actually, she always sincerely wished – that Albus Dumbledore was still alive. He had a grandfatherly quality that made it easier for students to open up to him. She tended to come off as rather stern, even when she was trying to be caring. “What I mean is who are the students who dared you to do this? I know that you were dared to spend the night in the Forbidden Forest because one of the students confessed to the dare, but she wouldn't tell me who the others were.”“I won't tell either since I don't know all their names and I'm not a dirty snitch,” Ginny grumbled, shrugging again.“But surely you can agree that they need to serve detention at the very least,” McGonagall protested. Ginny shook her head. “Not really. Dares happen and I am old enough to know better, but I did it anyway because I was too stupid to just roll my eyes and walk away.” McGonagall suppressed a disappointed sigh. “Then you might be pleased to hear that the girl who confessed got some house points taken away for not coming forward much sooner, but isn't being given detention as a reward for her honesty.” “Actually yes, I am glad to hear that,” Ginny murmured with a tiny smile. Punishments never really deterred the dares, and actually, a lot of the time, they spurred even more of them as a sort of punishment for tattling. The Headmistress waited for a house elf to serve them tea and biscuits, which they both nibbled on in silence for a moment. In Ginny's case, she was actually fairly hungry and was grateful for the plate full of mostly empty carbs. When Ginny had eaten two biscuits and was on her third, McGonagall spoke again. “Now... will you please tell me a little bit about what happened? You already said that, er, it happened...” she faltered and then cleared her throat since despite her discomfort at the subject, she was a professional and needed to be fairly clinical at the moment. “And by it, I'm referring to intercourse.” Then McGonagall closed her eyes and pressed two fingers to her forehead. “Forgive me for being insensitive. Do you need medical attention before we have this conversation?” “No, Professor,” Ginny answered after she swallowed the last of her tea to clear the biscuit from her mouth. “I'm not injured or even hurt. And if you really want – or more likely don't want but have – to know, yes, intercourse happened. It was surprisingly, er... good... I did not choose to do it, but I don't really want to complain about it either since it, well, it, er...” she trailed off, not entirely sure how she could admit to having the best orgasms – Merlin's inverted nipples! Orgasms plural! – of her life to her Headmistress. And oh... Just thinking about them was making her face turn an alarming shade of red, and her panties were getting rather damp... McGonagall seemed to read her mind though and smirked in amused understanding. “Yes, I've read other women's accounts of what happens and the consensus seems to be that it ends up rather spectacularly.” “I'll say!” Ginny blurted out before she could stop herself, and then looked away as her blush got even redder. McGonagall sighed in relief. “Alright, so, it wasn't a horrible experience, which I am relieved to hear because there's nothing I could do if it was. The treaty between the Ministry and the Centaurs stipulates that they are within their right to breed with any witch in their territory – whether the witch is willing or not. Yes it's appalling that such a law could exist in any time period, but sadly, it is biologically necessary for Centaurs to use such methods, and we can't truly deny them that. I mean we could, but then they'd have no incentive to stay in their colonies and not actively hunt for mates – and that's more than you really care to hear, isn't it?” Ginny shrugged. “Actually, I'd never really thought about it before, but now that I'm...” she swallowed nervously as the reality slowly sank in. “Pregnant...” she cleared her throat since that came out in a near whisper. “I have no choice but to think about it, and... Well, I can sort of understand them. They have no females to mate with like most species, and even when they do find a mate, they have to use special equipment just to perform the act without hurting or killing their... Merlin! Am I really something so simple as a mate?! Not a girlfriend or a special someone, just a mate because he needed a son!” She ended in a mildly angry huff, and then sighed. “So you are upset,” McGonagall stated with a bit of relief.“Well, a little,” Ginny admitted. “But only because I was forced to become a mother before I'm ready, and even if I do decide to give my child up to his father, my life will never be the same!”“No, it won't,” McGonagall agreed with as much sympathy as she could muster without coming across as insincere or worse, full of pity. Ginny stood up and paced the Headmistress' office in agitation. “I'm so confused!” She roared, tugging on her hair. “On the one hand, I liked it and I do understand why it's necessary for them to do what they do, but on the other, I had plans for my life, damn it!” Not knowing what to say, McGonagall offered the best advice she could, all considering. “Mmm, well, perhaps you should prepare yourself. The other students are going to have a lot of – probably very hurtful – theories about what happened. I would suggest not lying or denying it outright, but also try to remain firm in not wanting to talk about it – that is, assuming that you won't want to talk about it. If you do want to, try to stick to the minimum of facts. And remember, it's really no one's business but yours – as you pointed out when I suggested calling your parents. You don't owe anyone an explanation.” “Yes Headmistress” Ginny murmured, then flopped into the seat she'd previously abandoned so that she could eat a few more biscuits. Thankfully, a house elf refilled her tea.“Would you prefer if I directed the staff to remind the older students exactly why the Forest is Forbidden – thankfully, the younger students are not at risk of this particular problem since the Centaurs cherish the young and would not harm them. Or would you prefer if I asked them not to give out any unnecessary details right now and work on a lesson plan for later?” Ginny took a moment to think this through, and then shrugged yet again. “I guess I don't really care. They're all going to talk about me, and the students will probably come up with far worse things than what the Professors could tell them, so... yeah... it's probably better for the Professors to just educate everyone on the treaty.” McGonagall nodded in approval. “Thank you for being so mature about this.” Ginny sighed and rubbed her aching shoulder. “Thank you for not giving me detention for being stupid.” McGonagall felt a tiny smile twist her lips. “Well, I daresay you've been punished enough. Now, perhaps you should go see Madam Pomfrey. She might have some helpful advice, and possibly a potion to help ease any soreness you might be experiencing.” Ginny simply nodded and stood up to leave. She suppressed – or rather, tried to suppress – a huge yawn as she walked away. “Yeah... I think I need to know everything I can...” * As Ginny walked to Gryffindor tower – after stopping by the Hospital Wing and getting a potion to ease the soreness of her muscles from straining against her bondage to the table, not to mention an armload of nutritive potions and a book on Centaur pregnancy – she stopped to sit in an alcove and think for a moment. The book was practically shouting at her because if all Centaurs were male, then who exactly had written the book? A sort of Centaur Doctor? Centaurs actually did have innate healing magic, so that was possible. She flipped through the book. As I am fascinated by Centaurs and plan to spend my life studying them so that my kind can better understand them, I have voluntarily traveled to a Centaur colony and am now pregnant with a Centaur child. I'll document everything I can in this book so that it will hopefully be useful in the future for other brave witches who undergo this rare honor and privilege. “Oh... So it was written by a more than likely insane witch,” Ginny muttered to herself, and then shrugged. She'd have time to finish reading it later, and so simply continued on her way. As she walked, she kept looking around, honestly expecting a howler to show up at any moment. Or perhaps her mother. Then it hit her. For the first time in her life, she didn't have anyone at school who would send news like this back to her parents before she had a chance to think about it. This meant that her mum might not find out until Ginny actually told her. “Whoa...” she whispered in awe. “That's actually a bit weird...” * That night at dinner, the hall was a buzz with speculation. The Professors had done a fairly to the point job with the explanation, and so the students weren't quite sure whether to take them at their word, or wait to hear some sort of confirmation from Ginny first. Without her realizing it, the Sixth and Seventh years from all houses – and a handful of curious Fourth and Fifth Years – got together and planned out a meeting. So it was that Ginny found herself almost forcibly held back when the younger students left the great hall. Working together, the students levitated the impossibly long tables and benches to the sides of the hall, and then conjured up enough cushions for everyone. Ginny also found that they'd conjured up a rather plush armchair for her and that she was now sitting in it in a corner with everyone forming semi circles around her. She looked around to find that a few of the Professors – including McGonagall – were sitting in a group at the staff table, simply chatting and drinking tea. To all appearances, they were ignoring the students, but chances were good that they wanted to be on hand if Ginny needed anything. Such as if the students got too enthusiastic and out of control. “I'm sorry,” the Slytherin girl who had confessed to the dare murmured. “I didn't mean for this to happen.” A different Slytherin – one of the boys – added almost silently so that the Professors couldn't hear him. “We just thought you'd wait for us to return to the castle, and then go to bed.” Ginny shrugged. “I'll admit, I thought about doing that, but my tenacious inner Gryffindor wouldn't let me.” “So...” one of Ginny's dorm mates droned with a prying tone and look. “What happened?” Ginny took a deep breath and sighed. “Well, a little after midnight, I settled down to go to sleep. I may actually have slept for a bit, who knows. In any case, Bane came up to me and told me that – according to the treaty between our kind and Centaurs – I was fair game because I was on Centaur land. He shot me with a little blow dart that made it so I couldn't so much as twitch – although I could move my head and talk. Then he carried me to... their camp? Settlement? Not sure what I'd call it, really.” She paused and accepted the biscuit someone passed her. Someone else gave her a mug of hot chocolate – which everyone in the hall was now accepting from a couple of helpful house elves. “And then?” Her dorm mate prompted eagerly. Ginny took a deep breath. She had to focus on her mug so that she didn't look at any of her classmates and blush to death. She may have been raised with a billion older brothers and in a dorm, but things like this could still embarrass her. “Well, as Bane tied me to a special table, he told me that I was going to bear him a son – that it was written in the stars.”“Wait! Why did he tie you to a table?” A Sixth Year Hufflepuff boy asked in confusion. Ginny gathered every drop of her Gryffindor courage and looked him in the eye. “Believe it or not, for safety reasons. I'm dead sure that you've never imagined the logistics before – I most certainly hadn't – but it's not easy for a Centaur to mate with a human.” “Er... why not...?” A Fourth Year Ravenclaw girl asked with a blush. Ginny sighed, resigning herself to giving a very unusual sexual lesson. She looked the girl in the eye. “You've seen a dog, right?” She conjured up a pair of stuffed animals as the girl nodded. “Well, they do it like this, right?” She demonstrated by positioning one toy on top of the other. “Yeah...” the girl acknowledged hesitantly, glancing over to make sure that none of the Professors were paying attention to them, and from all appearances, they weren't. Ginny transfigured the toys into a doll and a horse, and she even made them as close to scale models of herself and Bane as she could. “So how do you think this bloke could get this girl pregnant?” She shook each toy as she asked the question. “Er... Good question,” the Ravenclaw admitted. Ginny nodded. “Well, the answer is that he strapped me to a table so that I was at the right height for, er, you know ...” she trailed off with another mortified blush. Then she figured that so long as she was doing this anyway, she may as well do it right. She conjured a replica of the table used and bound the doll to it. “At first, he raised the table so that it was easy for him to magically prepare me with his fingers and tongue,” Ginny said, looking at a wall as she admitted this.“Whoa wait!” A Seventh Year Gryffindor boy blurted out. “Are you saying that he... went down on you???” Ginny bit her lip and nodded in confirmation. “Well, he had to in order to make sure I was able to safely conceive and carry his son. There's magic in his saliva that feels really good and changes a female's anatomy at the same time.” “So wait, how long are we talking here?” A Sixth Year Slytherin girl asked with a carefully controlled amount of interest. Ginny bit her lip and looked at her mug of hot chocolate again, a tiny smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “I don't even know. It felt like forever at the time. The magic in the saliva also made it really easy for me to gush, and he seemed to want me to do that a lot, so I had to scream and cry and beg him to just get to it already.” “So... it didn't hurt?” The Fourth Year Ravenclaw girl asked with a small shudder that made Ginny wonder what she was thinking about. Or – more likely – remembering.“No, not at all,” Ginny assured her softly. “I know, it's what I assumed would happen too. That it would rip me up and hurt for a long time, but no. Bane said their species would probably die out if that was the case. Instead, they're made to feel really good so that women will want to breed with them, I suppose.” She then rearranged the table so that the toy horse was mounted on the table. “And this table really is for the safety of the woman. See how the horse puts his legs in these indents? It's so that he doesn't accidentally injure his mate during the process.” “So your legs were just tied out of the way?!” A Fifth Year Hufflepuff girl asked incredulously, with a vibrant blush. She immediately ducked so that no one could clearly see her face.“Yeah, they were, and once it happened, I was actually sort of glad for it. It meant that I couldn't fall or get pushed off the table and get hurt or trampled on,” Ginny explained. A Seventh Year Slytherin girl summoned the toys and waved her wand at them. “Here's what I'm not quite understanding. You said there was no pain, but...” The toys were transfigured into what the girl figured must be close to actual size representations of Ginny's vagina and a horse penis. “Is this about how big he was? How in the world could that fit without pain?” To illustrate her point, she pressed the penis to the vagina. A soft choking sound made them all turn their heads to the staff table to find that all the Professors were very intently studying their cups of tea. Ginny bit her lip to hold back a laugh. “Er, well, as I said, his tongue and his fingers prepared me so that it could fit without pain,” Ginny answered. She held her hand out and made a gesture for the girl to toss her the penis. “And I didn't get to touch it, but from what I could see, it was more like...” she cast a spell to adjust the size of the penis so that it was a bit shorter, but also a bit wider.“Salazar's sweaty sac!” At least half the Slytherins burst out. At the same time, Ravenclaws blurted out: “Roweena's rosy tits!” The Hufflepuffs squeaked: “Helga's hairy fanny!” And Ginny's house mates roared: “Godric's great prick!” Ginny bit her lip again and waited a few seconds to see if any of the Professors were going to take away house points for inappropriate language. Inside, she was cracking up! It was almost certain that she'd just set a record for the most students to swear in front of their Professors at the same time. Thankfully, it seemed that they were going to pretend that they weren't listening, and/or that they hadn't quite understood the jumble of exclamations. Meanwhile, more than one boy was now crossing his legs self-consciously. Before she could decide if she wanted to try to reassure them, Ginny would swear she heard Professor Sprout softly mutter to McGonagall: “That reminds me of the time that I got drunk and slipped into bed with Hagrid.” Ginny choked on her hot chocolate and coughed for a good fifteen seconds before she felt like she could breathe normally again. Clearing her throat, she decided to finish up the explanation as succinctly as possible. “Alright, so, anyway, it didn't hurt, and it didn't really last all that long once he was inside me. There must be magic in their, er, anatomy, because each thrust gave me an intense orgasm. By the time he was done – thank our sweet and merciful Merlin that it was only six thrusts total – I was so... er... exhausted that I passed out about a minute later. I slept like I was dead –” Ginny was willing to bet that all of those who blurted out: “I'll bet!” Were probably not virgins. She smirked in understanding and then continued. “And when I woke up in the morning, he gave me breakfast and a ride back to the castle. So, aside from not having any choice in the matter, I had a surprisingly good time and I don't feel ashamed. There's no need for anyone to try to heckle me or make me feel bad,” Ginny informed them. Luna – who had been sitting on a cushion next to Ginny's chair this entire time – rested her head against Ginny's leg. “Do you think you'll ever do it again?” Ginny sighed and shrugged. “I suppose I might be willing to consider it if I knew that he couldn't get me pregnant. The thought of carrying a Centaur to term and then giving birth to it, well...” she trailed off with a light shudder. Almost every girl in the hall winced, which let the Professors know that they'd all imagined having kids at some point and were currently afraid of the intense pain associated with labor. As for the boys, they were all looking rather repulsed, as if the thought of anything to do with having babies rather put them off their feed. McGonagall silently chuckled, hoping that this – rather shockingly – detailed and impromptu sexual education lesson would have the effect of curbing their enthusiasm for a while. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Much like they did every year, the Weasleys threw a rather large party for the new graduate. Aside from a welcome home feast the night she came home from Hogwarts, there was a coordinated effort amongst all the parents. Since not everyone had as much room in their yards as the Weasleys did, a lot of parents took advantage of Molly and Arthur's willingness to host a celebration of epic proportions. For the three days of the party, all the new graduates being honored – along with their siblings and friends – got to just be kids having as much fun as they wanted. All their parents and invited adult guests took the opportunity to just relax, get mildly (or in some cases, belligerently) drunk, and simply be together as a community. No one had to think about anything more complicated than what food they wanted to select from the never ending buffet that was provided via a joint effort from all the parents. Molly was clearly in her element while directing her helpers and cooking enough food to feed an enormous army. Harry had given Ginny a lovely gold locket with his picture in one side and hers in the other. The two of them danced frequently, not caring how bad Harry was at it. Actually, after the second day of people showing him different steps at random, he was starting to get the hang of it. Each night, Ginny “snuck” Harry into her room to simply cuddle and talk – for the most part. She knew that her parents were probably fully aware that Harry was not where he was supposed to be, but since she was very nearly of age in general and old enough to consent in specific, they turned a blind eye. This was one of the benefits of being the youngest child – Bill made sure to tell her. Apparently he hadn't been allowed a coed sleepover until he was nearly 20. Charlie whispered in her ear at one point that he got away with a shocking amount of underage naughtiness because their parents didn't realize that he was gay until he came out at 22, and thus had no idea what happened during his not coed sleepovers. Meanwhile, Ron confessed that he thought Ginny had impressive bollocks considering that he was living with Hermione and still felt nervous about having her share a room with him while they stayed at the Burrow. After all the guests had left, the entire extended family stayed one more night simply because they wanted time to unwind from the party before having to gather up their belongings and go home. The next morning, Ginny woke early because she was a little queasy. She padded down to the kitchen and made herself tea – which helped soothe her stomach. She also read through her book on Centaur pregnancy as she sipped her tea. It was an entertaining enough read that she didn't even hear her mother ask: “Is that some sort of research project?” As she set a plate of breakfast in front of Ginny. A constant stream of amused snorts and giggles filled the air as Ginny read passages like: “Today, I entered my sixth month and was rewarded with the feeling of having an entire Quidditch team practicing their bludger techniques inside my stomach!” And: “Centaurs are really quite lovely people – so long as they aren't living inside you, oi!” The consensus as the rest of her family slowly came down to eat the fabulous smelling breakfast was that Ginny must be reading some sort of hilarious fictional story. When Hermione just couldn't stand not knowing anymore, she reached across the table and tapped Ginny on the arm. “Can I read that when you're done?”“If you'd like,” Ginny permitted with a small smile as she looked at one of her best friends. Then she got a tiny bit nervous as she realized that her entire family was gathered around the long table. “It was written by a woman around 50 or 60 years ago and tells all about how she went to live with the Centaurs and volunteered to carry a child for the – er... leader, I suppose you'd call him. It's not an official post so much as whoever happens to be the strongest or most dominant at the time. Anyway, she was an absolute nutter, thinking that carrying a Centaur child was an honor!” Ginny snorted at this. “But by about halfway through, she started questioning her sanity!”“Oh my!” Molly clucked. “The poor dear! I imagine that carrying a single Centaur baby feels much the same as carrying twins did.” Ginny giggled. “Yeah, she says it felt like she had an entire Quidditch team using bludgers in there!” Molly nodded knowingly. “Yes... that sounds about right.” “But as far as I can tell, she ended up carrying more than one Centaur over the course of a few years, and also encouraged other women to do so as well, so this book contains pretty much everything there is to know about Centaur pregnancy,” Ginny said.“Are you thinking about becoming a healer then?” Molly wondered curiously.“Oh no, I'm pretty much guaranteed a spot in the Holyhead Harpies – if I want it,” Ginny stated with a grin. “Their captain scouted me during our final match.”“That's excellent news!” Everyone cheered. Harry smothered her in a hug and kissed her on the cheek.“But I told the captain that they'd have to wait until the end of next year at the earliest,” Ginny added a bit sadly.“Why so long?” Ron wondered with a curious frown. Ginny inserted a finger into the book she was reading to keep her spot, then held it up with one hand and twirled it side to side. “Because Centaur pregnancies last an utterly unfair 11 months. I mean really! What sick God thought that was fair?!” There was utter silence for a moment. Everyone stared at Ginny as if she had just grown two extra heads. Harry even tilted his head to the side. “Er...” Ron droned in confusion. “That sounds like...” Ginny exhaled a long suffering sigh, slumping just a little. “I was stupid enough to follow a dare to spend the night in the Forbidden Forest, and according to the treaty between –” Hermione cut her off with an incredulous gasp. “ No ! The treaty lets the Centaurs rape any witch who wanders into or spends the night in the Forest!” Ginny tilted her head to the side and nodded. The entire family roared out in outrage: “WHAT?!”“No!”“How DARE they?!” Ginny had to stand up, hold out her hands, and shout: “SHUT IT!” At least three times before they all calmed down. When it was quiet again, she exhaled in relief and sat back down. “As much as I appreciate the fact that you're all ready to start a war for me, there's no need. I've accepted what happened and even come to understand it a little.” Harry pulled her into a tight embrace. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, it didn't hurt,” Ginny assured him. “Bane was actually very gentle with me, as much as he could be. I'm sure you could imagine – if you wanted to – that it's not very easy to do, so they have a special table to ensure that the women aren't hurt. Aside from the fact that I didn't have a choice, I'm not traumatized or anything. I was angry that I am being forced to bear a child before being ready for motherhood, but now that I've had a couple of weeks to get used to it, I'm...” she trailed off, not quite knowing how to finish that sentence. Accepting was probably the closest to how she felt. Molly pulled her from Harry arms and smothered her in a tight embrace. “Oh my poor baby!” “I'm fine, mum,” Ginny insisted, returning her mother's hug and rubbing her back comfortingly. “But! When I try to picture...” Molly shuddered and hugged her daughter all the tighter.“Uh!” Ginny wheezed. “Can't breathe...” Molly let go a tiny bit, but not enough for Ginny to escape. “Listen, mum, because I don't want to have to admit this in front of you lot twice, but...” she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Centaurs have magic to make it feel really good. So honestly, I am not hurt.”“How good are we talking here?” George's girlfriend Angelina asked curiously.“Like the best you've ever had times eight,” Ginny informed her with a knowing nod.“Yes, my great aunt told me about the time she was caught by a Centaur,” Fleur murmured from the other side of the table. “She said it was the best sex of her life. She experienced le petit mort at least 'alf a dozen times.” Ginny nodded, pressing her lips together so that she didn't grin at that. Angelina pulled Ginny out of Molly's arms and whispered in her ear. “How big, you know?” “Oi!” George protested far too loudly. “I do not want to hear about how big some other bloke's bits are!” Ginny laughed and draped her arms around his shoulders. “Maybe if you studied their magic, you could come up with a product to replicate some of the better aspects.” Fleur waved at Angelina to get her attention. “My great aunt said that her lover was about so...” she formed a shape with her hands that was a fairly accurate representation of a horse sized penis. “Really?” Angelina asked with a look that suggested she was impressed Ginny could take such a size without breaking. Ginny held up a finger as if asking for her to wait a moment. “As I said, they have magic that helps.” Arthur held out his arms and beckoned her to come over to him. She slunk over to him with a heavy heart, but he assured her rather quickly. He pulled her into his lap and hugged her tight. Then he brushed the stray hair out of her face. “My baby girl's all grown up now,” he murmured. She snuggled into him and purred. “I wish there was something I could do, but by law, the Centaurs have the right to procreate whenever an opportunity presents itself.”“I know,” Ginny murmured. “He also has the right to take the baby from you,” he added.“Yes, he told me as much,” Ginny admitted. “I think I'm going to go stay with Bane for a while before the baby is born so that I can see how the Centaurs care for their young. They are known for cherishing the young, so I think they should be good at it. And I suppose that this is probably why. They can't possibly have many babies if they have to rely on stupid girls to wander into their territory.”“Yes...” Arthur murmured softly in agreement, and then kissed her on the cheek. Harry stood up and held out his hand to her. “Let's go for a walk, Gin.” Ginny nodded and placed her hand in his. He helped her to her feet and then led her outside. They walked in silence for a bit before Harry gathered up the courage to say what was on his mind. “What do you need from me?” He asked in concern. “Do you need me to marry you and support you in the Wizengamot as you fight for custody? Or...”“What?” She wondered curiously.“Well, you said that you plan to go live with Bane for a bit. And then you think you might play for the Holyhead Harpies,” Harry pointed out. “Meanwhile, I'll be in Auror training... It just doesn't sound like we'll have any time to be together for the next few years.” Ginny kissed him tenderly, her heart filled with awe at how very noble he was. She knew without a doubt that if she said that she wanted him to marry her before the baby was born, he would. She smiled at him and ruffled his wildly messy hair. “Harry, I think that the timing just isn't right for you and I. I do truly think that we're meant to be together, but as you said, not for a few years yet,” she informed him. Harry frowned in obvious disappointment. “But... well, what if you fall in love with Bane and I fall in love with someone else?” Ginny gave him a teary smile, holding his face in one hand. “If that happens, then maybe it's a sign that we're not meant to be together after all. We're still very young! We still have our whole lives ahead of us. If we're meant to be together, we will be. When the time is right.” Harry took a deep breath in and out as he thought this over. “So... for now, we should just continue as we have been? You doing what you have to, and me, well...” Ginny nodded, smiling at him more firmly now. “Yes Harry. If you need to find someone to keep you company during training, I completely understand. As much as I wanted to move in with you the moment I turned 17, I think this might be better in the long run. This way, when we finally do get together, we'll know it was meant to be.” Harry pulled free of her arms, turned slightly away and looked at the ground. “What if... What if I think I might be... serious about... someone else...” Ginny hugged him. “Then I think you should probably figure that out.” “And you're sure you don't want me to marry you and help you raise this baby?” Harry asked, putting a hand on the still flat but softly rounded area of her lower abdomen.“I love you more than you will ever realize for being ready to do just that, but no,” Ginny stated with a sad smile. “It wouldn't be fair to either of us, especially since I'm planning to go stay with Bane for a while. Harry nodded slowly, also feeling sad, but also relieved. He rested his head against hers. “I love you too, Gin. Just...” She smirked at him and finished his sentence. “You might love Malfoy more.” Harry gasped in astonishment. “How –?!” Ginny laughed with a genuine grin. “Oh Harry! Like I didn't watch you watch him for years !” Harry blushed and looked away. Ginny gave him a smoldering kiss. “You know... we still have some time before my birthday. We can spend as much of it together as you have time for,” she suggested. Harry smiled at her. “I'd like that.” *** Ginny had another nice party for her 17 th birthday, but then when she was all alone a couple of days after it, she lay on the floor in front of the fire as her mother sat knitting in a chair. She rubbed the small but definitely there bulge in her abdomen and smiled faintly. She was approximately 3 out of 11 months along, and she already knew – from reading her book – that the rest of her pregnancy was only going to get wilder. Which meant that if she was ever going to have somewhat “safe” sex with Bane – with no possibility of getting pregnant again – it was basically now or never. She sat up, kissed her mother on the cheek, and then murmured something about staying with a friend for a few days. After that, she floo'd to the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, waved to Aberforth, and walked until she was able to enter the Forbidden Forest. She was only half surprised when Bane met her just inside. “Thanks to you, a handful of witches have come into the Forest to volunteer to carry children for us.”“Actually volunteer, or volunteered against their will?” Ginny wondered with narrowed eyes. Bane stroked her long red hair soothingly. Then he lifted her into his arms so that he could kiss her forehead. “Your concern is adorable, but there's no need. They came to us willingly; asking to have sex knowing that they'd more than likely get pregnant.” “Alright then,” Ginny murmured in acceptance. Bane kissed her head again, and then shifted her onto his back. “Are you here to stay?” “Not just yet,” Ginny answered. “I want to go through most of my pregnancy in the comfort of my home. But I do plan to come back when it's almost time to give birth so that I can see how you are with our son right from the very beginning.”“Are you afraid that I will mistreat him?” Bane questioned with a frown.“Not mistreat so much as not know how to care for an infant,” Ginny replied with a shrug.“Alright. So then, why are you here now?” Even as they talked, Bane was walking her toward his home. Ginny blushed just a little. “Well, it occurred to me that I'm going to get enormous very quickly. I just... Well, I just really wanted to have sex again before that happened.” Bane chuckled. “I have no objections to this plan.” Ginny laughed. “Somehow, I didn't think you would.” For the rest of the leisurely walk, Bane told Ginny about various things she might need to know. Etiquette, Centaur law, and offensive gestures she should try to avoid at all costs. Things like that. Ginny mostly nodded in understanding since her pregnancy book had a lot of this information in it. Then she spent a moment sincerely hoping that there were enough copies of the book for all the others who had apparently decided to get pregnant. When they arrived at the colony, Bane brought Ginny to his shelter. “Wait here a moment.” Ginny did as told, and then watched in fascination as Bane returned from what appeared to be a supply shed with a hammock-like chair. He hung the chair up on a tree, and then tugged on it pointedly to demonstrate that it was sturdy and would fully support her weight. She smiled at him curiously when he turned to look at her. “Since you are not paralyzed this time, you might find this chair more comfortable to begin with.” Ginny nodded in understanding, willing to give it a try. Bane lifted her into the chair and made absolutely certain that she was comfortable and safe. With a soft smile, she noticed that she was now at the perfect height for him to stick his face between her legs. A random thought occurred to her as he was pushing her skirt up out of the way and removing her rather plain red cotton underwear. “What happens if you mate with a horse?” “That's something that happens if a Centaur grows desperate for a mate and there are no witches available,” Bane admitted. “However, in that case, the child born is more horse than anything. They are extremely intelligent horses, often praised and treated very well by any humans fortunate enough to work with them. Along the same lines, there are occasionally children born of Unicorns and the rare Pegasus. All of those children are extremely special in their own way, but none are true Centaurs.”“Do you know if there has ever been a Centaur born from a witch mating with a Unicorn or a Pegasus?” Ginny wondered curiously. Bane shook his head. “That is not possible as their genetic codes are too different from humans. As far as our legends tell us, our God had to specifically create us by mixing his essence in a vat of essence from a type of magical horse that no longer exists, and then insert that essence into the females of a tribe of magical but otherwise human nomads. As such, we truly are our own species and not a half breed – despite being literally half human. If that makes sense.” Ginny both nodded and shrugged because it did make some sense even as it didn't. Bane wasted no more time. He held her hips with his hands as he thoroughly licked every part of her soft, wet opening. Ginny exhaled a long sigh of pleasure and relaxed into the chair as much as possible. Bane had her very quickly floating on wave after wave of bliss. She wrapped her legs around his head and gripped his hair, loving every moment. Each and every lick had her shuddering in pleasure, and his fingers inside her had her moaning and groaning. Bane purposely went slow to make the experience last longer. He didn't want to overwhelm her this time since their goal was pleasure for no other reason than it felt good. Even so, it didn't take long before Ginny inhaled a sharp gasp and gripped his hair tighter than before. “Oh my fucking God!” Ginny wailed, her whole body feeling tighter than a newly a newly strung bow. She was quaking from the intensity and stopped breathing altogether for a long moment. When she gushed a moment later, the feeling was so dizzying that she nearly passed out, but Bane had other plans. The fluid she produced was like the Nectar of the Gods to him, so he was more than willing to see just how much she could produce before she begged him to stop. Going slowly again, he built up a fire inside her that made her wonder if she actually would burn up from it. This time when she gushed, she shook so hard that she nearly slid out of the chair. Bane held her steady as he gulped it down, finding it rather amusing when she blacked out. He gently pulled her from the chair and carried her to a simple table that was designed to be raised or lowered as needed. He raised the table enough that he could massage her without straining himself. Then he stripped her naked and selected an oil that was very good for the skin. By the time that Ginny came to, she was already purring happily. “Your hands feel like they're made of magic,” she murmured.“They are,” he replied with a chuckle. “I'm using my healing magic to soothe away any aches or pains from the pregnancy – or in general.”“I've just decided that I'm going to visit you fairly often – whenever I need a massage!” Ginny stated with a grin.“I don't mind,” Bane informed her with a tiny hint of a smile. “It's my pleasure to care for you as much as possible.” Ginny shifted until she could look him in the eye. “I'm surprised that you don't try to keep me captive.” Bane sighed heavily. “I suppose I could . The treaty gives me the right. However, living like a Centaur is hard for most human women. Even those that like living in the wilderness find it hard to sleep out in the open among a community that doesn't have much for privacy. We know that it is often much easier for the mother – and thus the unborn child – to let her come and go as she pleases.” Ginny sighed a bit grumpily. “You still talk like I'm nothing more than a broodmare.” “I do not intend any offense,” Bane murmured soothingly. With a shrug, Ginny surrendered to the wonderful massage until she reached a state in which she honestly wasn't sure if she had turned into goo. When he was done, Bane lowered the table so that if she accidentally fell, she wouldn't get hurt. Then he walked away for a few minutes. When he returned, he was carrying something that looked like some bizarre form of art. “This is different than the table I strapped you to the first time,” he explained. “It will still allow for your safety, but it's designed so that you do not need to be restrained – unless you'd prefer that.” Ginny sat up and slowly slipped off the table. She studied the thing carefully, biting her lip in thought. “Oh, I see. I can bend over it like this...” She demonstrated her words by putting her knees in the padded indents and leaning over the cushioned part that looked like the top of a triangle. There were handles at the perfect place for her hands to grip – and a flat spot under the handles in case she'd rather not grip anything. Another careful look confirmed that there were still places for Bane's forelegs, as well as handles and bars and things for his human hands to grip and use for leverage and whatnot. A soft giggle startled her and made her look around for the source. “Hello Ginny.”“Luna! What are you doing here?” “Oh... the same as you, it would appear,” Luna replied with a dreamy smile. “I've been here almost a week. It's written in the stars that I will not be ripe for three more days, and my mate is also written in the stars. However, in the meantime, I'm having fun simply dallying with anyone who wants me.”“Wow! I don't think I could handle doing this more than once every couple of days!” Ginny blurted out, trying to imagine having half a dozen or more seriously intense orgasms each day and... hmm... Luna merely shrugged and hummed serenely. “Well, I love rare magical creatures, and I love sex, so I figured that I'd at least give it a try, and so far, I'm not disappointed.” Ginny laughed and nodded with a grin. Luna pointed at the thing Ginny was bent over. “That is fun, but I actually think I prefer being tied to the mating table. It's strangely glorious not being able to move.” Ginny grinned at her again, knowing what she meant. Even as they talked, Bane had gotten into position. He bent his human half awkwardly to look down at her. “Are you ready?”“It's weird that you have no problem having sex in front of my friend, but I suppose that since there's no privacy here, this is probably normal for you,” Ginny remarked, biting her lip in thought. Then she added: “Yes. I suppose I am ready.” Luna tilted her head to the side. “Looks like you need to shift slightly to the left,” she informed Bane, using her hands to illustrate just how much he needed to move. “Thank you,” Bane murmured, shifting as suggested and moving forward until his shaft was pressing into Ginny. Before he actually did anything, she giggled.“Remind me later to simply give you a hand job! I'd love to know how big you actually are!”“Mmm,” Bane murmured just before he let his basest instinct take over. He pounded into her exactly as his biology dictated – eight powerful thrusts that made her scream and wail with orgasm until she passed out from it. He groaned in profound relief as he flooded her with his own orgasm, ending with a sigh of bliss. The feeling of her muscles clenched tightly around him was very close to his idea of heaven. Despite his firm belief that Centaurs were better in every way than humans, he wished for one second that he could know what it was like to curl up in a bed with her and simply sleep like human lovers did. Luna smiled at him as if she could read his thoughts, and watched him rather dreamily when he eventually pulled his flaccid shaft free from Ginny. He gathered her up in his arms and carried her to his shelter where he could watch over her as she rested. Luna sat on Ginny's other side and stroked her hair. “You know, if Centaurs really wanted to attract more women here for mating, perhaps it would be a good idea to build something like a house. Something in which they could have beds to sleep in, a bathroom with a shower and a tub, and a little privacy from time to time,” she suggested. “It wouldn't have to be anything fancy, maybe a big barn-like structure, but something to help women feel more at home here.”“That is not a bad idea,” Bane murmured in a thoughtful tone. “I'll suggest it to the others.” Luna continued. “At the very least, beds that could be brought into these shelters for the women to sleep on.” “That's a good idea too,” Bane said with a smile.“With mosquito netting to keep out insects!” Luna insisted. Bane grinned at her.“You have an uncommon amount of sense, Luna Lovegood.” Luna grinned mysteriously at him. “You are the first to notice.” She got up and walked away with a wave over her shoulder at him. An hour or so later, Ginny woke up and smiled happily at Bane – who was resting on his folded up legs next to her. “Hey... let me play with you a bit.” Bane frowned lightly in confusion. “Play?” Ginny nodded. “Yeah. With my hands.” She figured that with everything he had done for her pleasure, it was a bit unfair that she hadn't returned the favor. “Oh,” Bane murmured in mild surprise. “I see.” He shifted until he was half laying on his side and able to move his legs out of her way. Ginny sat so that she had the perfect access to his shaft, and then stroked it to her heart's content. Bane shuddered and gasped since her light touch wasn't quite enough to set him off, but at the same time felt very good. When Ginny gathered up the courage to encircle him with both hands and tug rather roughly, he made a noise that suggested he was being strangled, but she knew he was enjoying it. Less than a dozen tugs was all it took for him to pump his load all over her. Ginny giggled as she looked at her spunk-covered body. “Now I wish there was a bath to wash up in. I look like I was splashed with a bucket of slime!” “I find the sight strangely appealing,” Bane remarked with a smile. Ginny returned his smile and then stood so that she had the leverage to take his face in her hands. “I'm still a little mad at you for getting me pregnant without my consent, but I'm willing to keep an open mind and see what happens next. Maybe there's a reason the stars say we were fated to meet.” After that, she kissed him. Since he had only ever kissed her forehead, she was fairly sure that he'd never had mouth to mouth kisses before. She took the time to teach him how to kiss very well, and then simply rested her head against his for a moment. He stroked her hair – that he considered a treasure in and of itself – and gave her one more kiss. “Ginny Weasley, you might just be the best thing that's ever happened to me.” Ginny smiled at him, filled with hope that he might make a kind and loving father to their son after all.
10173332	Things Change	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by silentauror [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "25/25", "completed": "2004-09-22", "published": "2004-09-14T00:00:00", "words": "77,934", "Additional Tags": "Slash, Explicit Language, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Romance", "Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Things ChangeBy: silentaurorDisclaimer: I do not own these characters; JK Rowling (our hero, yes) does {sigh} Chapter 1: Turning SeventeenHarry Potter lay awake in the Dursley’s darkened house, watching the numbers on the clock beside his bed. 11:59pm. It had been 11:59pm forever. His eyes blurred slightly, from fatigue, then snapped open again as the numbers finally changed. 12:00am. He was seventeen years old. Seventeen years old, and carrying a few secrets by now. Ron and Hermione knew about the prophecy. They were about to enter their seventh year, and this would be it. Either their last year together, or else Voldemort’s downfall. They would be there for him, like always, but in the end, it would be up to him. Harry just hoped he would be able to save them all, for he was the world’s only chance. He had not yet stopped asking the universe why, of all people, it had to be him. Clumsy, sometimes foolish, him, who vastly preferred quidditch to any class or discipline, and certainly to battle of any kind. Unless it was with Malfoy. That was different. What he had not yet told them was that he was probably gay. It wasn’t that he thought they would mind. It was just that he thought they had enough to think about, regarding him and his problems. Plus, it was about time they stopped thinking about him so much and finally realized they liked each other. The timing seemed right. Hermione was no longer writing to Viktor Krum, nor he to her. Hermione said they’d just “drifted apart”. Harry noticed that Ron had reacted with studied indifference and not commented at all – which was highly unusual for him. Perhaps he was learning something after all. Probably not quickly enough for Hermione, though, who had noticed Ron’s painful avoidance of the subject and quirked a quick grin at Harry. And, glad though he would be – devoutly glad – Harry was just waiting for it to happen already so that he could get adjusted to the feeling of being left out of their relationship, of having no one himself. No one. Harry curled up into a ball on his side and went tried to persuade himself to go to sleep. Sweet seventeen, and still never kissed – by a boy, at least. He wondered if Dumbledore knew. The man seemed to know everything. He wondered if knowing would change Dumbledore’s mind about him. Probably not. He probably knew stranger things about other people. Still musing to himself, Harry fell asleep. A week later, Harry received the long-awaited owl inviting him to Number 12, Grimmauld Place, for the remainder of the summer. He went, joyfully, leaving the Dursleys for another year. Only a few days after having arrived, Mrs. Weasley came upstairs to the room that Harry shared with Ron to ask him to come downstairs. “What is it?” Harry asked, getting up at once. Mrs. Weasley fixed him with a stern look. “Harry, I’m only going to tell you if I can trust you to behave yourself nicely when I say.” Harry felt a surge of indignation arise. Since when had Mrs. Weasley taken to lecturing him about his behaviour? “Okay,” he said, trying to conceal his sudden anger. “What is it?” She gave him a hard look. “Dumbledore and Professor Snape are here to see you.” Harry fought down the obvious reaction to the latter. He forced his voice to sound calm. “Okay. What for?” Seeming relieved, Mrs. Weasley said, “I don’t know, Harry. They’ll explain themselves, I’m sure. Now, I want you to be civil to Professor Snape – just try, do you hear me? He is an Order member, after all.” Harry nodded numbly. “Alright. I will if he is.” “No,” said Mrs. Weasley sharply, “you must be, whether or not he is. Be the bigger man if you must be, Harry.” Harry had a sudden mental image of his scrawny self attempting to tower over Snape’s definitely taller form and suppressed the urge to giggle. “Okay. Fine. I’ll try.” She turned left on the landing, explaining that she had to clean something in there, and to go on downstairs. Harry went. Feeling very reluctant, he opened the kitchen door and went inside, closing it after himself. Dumbledore and Snape were sitting at the table; Dumbledore at the end and Snape at the side. Dumbledore waved at the seat beside him, across from Snape, and called, “Come and join us, Harry. We just have a matter to discuss.” Heart sinking horribly, wondering what matter had to be discussed between himself and Snape, Harry took the offered seat. “What is it?” He asked quickly, avoiding looking at Snape. Dumbledore studied Harry patiently, a look of – was it pity? – crossing his old, lined face. “Harry. Turn your face away from me. Look your professor in the eye.” Totally confused, and not wanting to obey at all, Harry started to ask, “But – why, sir?” “Just do it, Harry.” Dumbledore’s voice was firm. Harry, eyes not leaving Dumbledore’s face, struggled for a moment longer, then gave in. He turned his head straight and looked at the man seated across from himself. Snape. His eyes were the first thing Harry noticed. Dark, but, unusually, not glittering out of malice or spite directed at himself. The hair. Longish. Black, with no grey. Greasy, like always. The face. Lined. Wary. Watching Harry as he scanned the features. The nose. Famous for its hooked shape, but really not that unusually large or disfigured. “Well?” Dumbledore’s voice was gentle. “Well what, sir?” Harry asked, turning back to Dumbledore. “Was that so hard?” “Sir?” Harry was almost more confused then he’d ever been. The voice was still soft. “Harry. I wanted you to have and take the chance to look at Severus Snape as a human being for once, rather than as this person who merely exists to cause you grief. You two are like my own sons. I have had enough of your behaviour – I mean both of you,” he added, before Harry could protest, “I am well aware of the bad behaviour that has occurred on both your parts. There are many issues between you two that need resolution. This will need to occur. You know, Harry, what must happen for the Order to win the war ahead of us. You know the pressure laid on you. As the Order, we are fully prepared to help you in every way possible. Severus is one of our best wizards, and utterly loyal. There are no two people more in my trust than the two of you. He can and will help you. You will need his help. I will not ask you to become friends, but I cannot abide this resistance between the two of you any longer. We can none of us afford it. I must insist that you begin your relationship again. From the beginning.” There was a bit of a silence. Harry looked at the table. Dumbledore continued. “I am hereby decreeing that the two of you meet on a regular basis, outside of class, to get to know one another and get yourselves to a state where you can work together without animosity. Beginning with tonight. Is that clear?” Neither Severus nor Harry made a sound. Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, then continued. “I hate to sound like a nagging parent – though that is indeed what I currently feel like – but in order to assure you both some measure of trust in me and protection from one another, I will be leaving Fawkes to watch over your meetings until you feel that you trust one another sufficiently not to need him. Needless to say, if he feels that anything I would not approve of is occurring – hurtful words or actions, in other words – he will let me know at once and I will intervene. I hope this will never be necessary.” Dumbledore looked at the two. Suddenly he smiled fondly. “How are alike you are, in so many ways,” he said, “though I realize that at the present, neither of you are happy with this idea. These meetings are not optional, I’m afraid. I must have order within my Order. You may proceed. Good night!” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: I don’t own these people (though some of their actions are definitely mine!) Chapter 2: Talking With a sudden flash, he disappeared, and Fawkes was left in his place on the chair. He looked about the room and fluttered up onto a high cupboard and settled himself in, looking down on Severus and Harry with watchful eyes. No one was saying anything. Harry risked a glance at Snape, to see the other man staring at his own folded hands on the table. “Do you hate me?” he asked bluntly. Startled at Harry’s directness, Snape’s head snapped up. “Potter – I… ” He seemed at a loss for words. Harry waited. Snape’s cool returned. “I see no reason why I should not.” Rolling his eyes, Harry said, “Well, we are on the same side of the war, how’s that for a reason? And what the hell did I ever do to you, to make you be such a jerk to me all this time? Because you have been, right since my first year.” “Potter,” Snape growled, shaking his greasy hair back from his forehead, “watch your language.” “Language be damned!” Harry shouted, losing his temper for a moment, “And when I ask what I did to you, I mean me, not my father or any of his friends, ME!” Snape was silent. The long fingers of his left hand were drawing circles on the table top. “Well?” Harry demanded. Snape shifted slightly in his seat. When he spoke, his voice was soft and sad. “Potter, this is difficult for me to speak about. You must realize how much like your father you look. It is difficult, sometimes, to remember that you are not him, especially as your behaviour is often similar.” “But you’ve been biased against me from the beginning.” Harry hesitated. “Do you want to tell me anything more about your school days?” He expected a reprimand, but none came forth. Harry chanced another look at Snape’s face, and was shocked to see a thin film of tears on the man’s dark eyes. “You must have some idea of what it was like from when you looked in the Pensieve.” Remorse washed over Harry. He had totally forgotten about that. How could he have? He had always felt terrible about that, and had never apologized. “Sir, I – I always meant – ” Snape cut him off. “Stop. I don’t want to hear it. And don’t call me ‘sir’.” “Sorry, sir – prof – what should I call you, then?” Harry was confused again. Snape had always told him off for forgetting the “sir”, not for using it. “Since we are supposed to be getting on better terms, why don’t you call me Severus,” said Snape, sounding tired and like he didn’t care at all. He rubbed one hand over his forehead as though he had a headache. “O – okay,” said Harry uncertainly. “Um, but I really want to say this – I’ve always been horribly ashamed of myself for – what I did that day, and – ” “Potter!” “I need to tell you this!” Harry burst out desperately. “That’s the one thing that I did to you, that I need to apologize for! I’ve always felt so bad about doing that, I had no business and I felt horrible about it. I was so upset after, because I thought that what you’d been saying about my dad was true all along, and that he must have really been a jerk – that’s why I snuck into Umbridge’s fire that time, I had to come and talk to Sirius and Remus and find out what my dad really was like.” He said this all in one breath, then went on, as Snape hadn’t interrupted him yet. “I’m sorry. I had no right to see that at all, but I was feeling all vulnerable, because you got to see all my embarrassing memories with my cousin and my aunt and stuff, and I’ve always been fascinated by Pensieves – I looked in it in Dumbledore’s office, too. I’m sorry, though. I had no right.” Snape was silent. The tears in his eyes had no yet left. Harry asked tentatively, “So… will you accept my apology?” Snape still said nothing, but nodded his head. Harry didn’t know what to say. “Sir – er, I mean – if I’m going to call you by your first name, will you call me Harry? It seems only fair, and maybe that way, if you call me that, you won’t just think of my dad all the time.” A tear slipped out of Snape’s eye and ran down his pale cheek, and still he said nothing. Harry was alarmed. He didn’t know what to say. Had he been hurtful? He looked quickly up at Fawkes, but the phoenix was still watching them placidly. “Er… did I say something wrong?” Harry asked uncertainly. Snape muttered something to himself and dug the heels of both his hands into his eyes. Without preamble, he began to talk. “My parents did not care for children and never meant my conception to happen. They did not care for one another, either, and my childhood with them was a nightmare. I come from an old family of purebloods, and they made it clear to me that the only way to exonerate my own existence was to become a successful Dark wizard. I came to Hogwarts. I made few friends until my later years, when my skill in the Dark Arts came to the attentions of Lucius Malfoy and his friends. I became a Death Eater. Then Dumbledore saved me from myself and made me see what was important, and I have never looked back. My family disowned me, or would have, if I had ever returned to them. Since then, I have had no friends and become the way I am. At school, your father and his friends were obviously… on the right side of things, where I was in the wrong. But they were very talented, and threw it in my face. Sometimes, as you saw, they could be very cruel. And I hated them for it. And then I blocked it from my mind, until you came to Hogwarts and I was forced to remember your father through you all over again.” “But I’m not him. I’m also my mother, who was nice to you, even though you were horrible to her, and I’m also just myself. I wasn’t brought up by my parents – or anyone at all,” Harry added bitterly, “so I’ve formed my own personality. I can’t help it if I look like my father. And I can’t help any of the stuff he did to you. I can apologize, on behalf of all Potters, from this point forth, but that’s the best I can do.” Snape looked up at this, and despite the moisture in his eyes, a small smile came forth. Harry was taken aback. He had never seen the man smile before, not a real smile, not holding any malice or mockery. It had an odd effect on Snape’s face, softening it. “I don’t really expect you to apologize for your father, Potter,” he said, still smiling a bit. “You’re supposed to be calling me Harry,” Harry said stubbornly. “I haven’t heard you call me Severus yet,” Snape countered. “There’s been no occasion to,” Harry retorted, but not really angry. “You could have said it right there,” Snape pointed out. “At the end of your sentence.” “So could you,” Harry rallied. “Is this a pissing contest?” Snape asked, rolling his eyes, and taking Harry by surprise. “Fine. I guess, as the older one of us, I must be the bigger man.” As Harry recalled his short conversation with Mrs. Weasley, Snape went on. “I will begin using your proper name starting tonight, Harry.” Immediate after saying this, Snape examined his finger nails, as though embarrassed at having said it. Harry caught his and grinned. “Thank you, Severus.” He paused. “When Dumbledore said he was leaving Fawkes to watch us, until we trusted each other not to hurt each other – well, was that because you were honestly worried about me hurting you, too?” Snape dropped his hands back onto the table and looked at them. “Well, you have hurt me before, during Occlumency lessons – in more ways than one.” Startled again by this, Harry realized that all the nasty things he could barely recall having said to Snape over the years must have registered with him at some level. “I didn’t realize I was hurting you,” he said, without thinking first. “I – I just thought it wouldn’t make any difference, somehow.” He realized how thoughtless that sounded. “I’m sorry, that’s a terrible attitude to have. I really am sorry.” Severus looked up at the boy. No, young man. He had just turned seventeen. “It’s alright, Harry,” he said tiredly. “No doubt I have hurt you over the years, as well. I admit that I have been extremely unfair during Potions lessons at times, and also rather harsh with you in particular. I ask you to forgive me for this attitude on my part as well.” Harry nodded automatically. “Was it just that you were punishing my father through me, or what?” “That, and… I suppose I have always been rather, well… jealous of you, as well.” Snape said this without looking at Harry, who couldn’t believe his ears. “I was also jealous of your father. And Black. And Lupin, at least until I discovered he was a werewolf. Then I felt I had something on them… but never mind that. You’ve been famous since your birth. Your parents wanted you. Everyone was excited about the child of the great James Potter and Lily Evans, the Hogwarts Heads and Dumbledore’s favourites. And then, with their – tragic – death, you became even more famous. I have heard that your childhood and summers with your aunt and uncle have been quite unpleasant, and since our Occlumency lessons, I have realized that for myself. But you have friends, and you have had the chance to prove yourself and your own worth as a wizard over and over again. I never had that.” “And that’s why you became a Death Eater,” Harry said, watching him closely. The other man nodded. “But you heard what Dumbledore said. He said you were like a son to him, too. You know how much he trusts you.” Even as he spoke, Harry could hardly believe that he was reassuring Snape. “And yeah, I guess you know how it’s been for me with the Dursleys, but do you also know how much I’ve gone through with other students at Hogwarts? Every time I do something, everyone thinks I’m showing off again, or making stuff up, and all I’m ever doing is trying to save my own skin.” “Or that of others,” Snape said quietly. “I know, Potter. Harry, sorry,” he corrected quickly. “I guess we are more similar than we’d thought. Both sort of orphans. Both rather isolated. I know it can’t have been easy, hearing about the Prophecy when you did, and carrying that around with you all the time. I am aware of it. I don’t mean to be such a cranky old man, Harry. I just seem to have grown in the wrong directions.” Harry looked at the older man and saw deep sadness lining all the features. His dark eyes were unfathomable. “It’s not too late to change, Severus,” he said softly. “And I’m sure you’re not always a cranky old man. I’ve seen you be nice to Malfoy – Draco,” he added quickly. “And you’re not an old man, anyway.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: still don’t own them Chapter 3: Secrets The corners of Severus’ mouth quirked upward into another smile. “Thank you, Harry. I’m glad you’ve noticed I’m at least human. I never meant to become this way, but what does one do?” Harry hesitated. Then, knowing Dumbledore would be proud of him for saying this, he said, “Well, maybe we could try to – you know – actually become friends. I know it might be weird, being friends with a student, but I’ll be graduated at the end of this year, and then we’ll just be colleagues in the Order, right?” Severus hesitated. “Yes. Yes, I suppose so. But you would not want to be friends with me. You have friends already.” He would not meet Harry’s eyes. Harry shook his head and said stoutly, “You can never have too many friends. Come on. Let’s start over again. From the beginning.” He held out a hand over the table for Snape to shake. After a moment, the Potions master took it, and they shook firmly. “From the start,” Snape agreed. He suddenly smiled again. “What?” asked Harry. “Who will I pick on in Potions now?” mused Snape. “Now that Longbottom has improved so much, and you’re off limits as a target… and I’m sure you would be displeased if I harassed Weasley…” Harry suddenly realized that Snape was kidding. “Severus!” he said, still feeling strange calling the man by his first name. He laughed, out of sheer surprise. Snape had just made a joke. A bad joke, but a joke, nonetheless. “Hey,” he said, something occurring to him. “What?” “You haven’t looked at me yet.” ”What?” Snape asked again, sounding confused. “I had to look you in the eye before, remember? You’ve hardly looked right at me for this whole talk already. I think you should.” “We have already enjoyed much eye contact during Occlumency lessons,” said Snape, and it sounded like he was stalling, sounding just a little bit panicked. “That was different. And you still hated me then,” said Harry, somehow sure that this was no longer the case. “Come on. Let’s give it a try.” Severus sighed. “Fine. Have it your way.” He straightened up and looked Harry in the eye. “Not my way. Dumbledore’s,” Harry corrected, his eyes seeking Snape’s. There. An odd feeling passed between the two. Somehow, Harry felt that he could almost have heard Snape’s thoughts, but the other man was blocking him. A prolonged silence fell. Harry said, “Sir? Are you reading my thoughts?” Snape’s eyes glittered, but in amusement. “Now why would I do that?” “Because you can?” Harry suggested. “I’m sure you could do it without saying the spell and using your wand.” The black eyes glittered again, and once again, Snape smiled. It really had a shocking effect on his face. It made him look younger. Gentler. “Indeed I can. But I wasn’t trying to,” he added hastily. “What was I thinking?” “Nothing specific. You were feeling mostly wary, I believe. Not sure what to expect from me. Am I correct?” “Yes,” Harry admitted. Then, “It’s not fair, you knowing so much about me. I mean, I know more about you now that you’ve said, but it’s hardly the same. It makes me feel very powerless.” Severus considered this. “What could we do to make you feel less powerless toward me?” Harry thought. “Tell me your deepest, darkest secret.” He grinned, very much aware of how childish that sounded. Severus said, in even tones, “You already know them. My childhood. I never talk about that. Becoming a Death Eater. Being jealous of your father. And you.” “Isn’t there anything else?” Suddenly, Snape blushed. Harry was shocked, again. “I can’t tell you the last one.” “Why not? I won’t tell anyone. Just like you won’t tell anyone about – about my cousin and all that,” Harry persuaded. “Potter. This one is very personal.” “Harry,” Harry corrected. He hesitated. “Come on. I’ll tell you my darkest secret, too.” “Then we would be unbalanced again.” “Nah, you’re right, you’ve told me lots. Come on. It’ll help us be friends.” “Friends trade secrets?” Snape sounded doubtful. “If they trust each other, yes.” “Do you trust me yet, Harry?” Snape looked him in the eye, and Harry was again surprised to see that the other man looked rather vulnerable. He was expecting Harry to reject this. Harry wasn’t sure. If he told Severus what he was planning to tell him, he must be able to trust him. He hadn’t even told Ron and Hermione yet. He made his decision. “Yes,” he said firmly, looking Severus in the eyes. “I trust you. Do you trust me?” Hedging, Severus looked away and said, very quietly, “I don’t deserve anyone’s trust, least of all yours.” “What? That’s nonsense,” said Harry briskly. “If Dumbledore trusts you, then I certainly can. I don’t care that you were a Death Eater. Let’s just forget it. It’s over, and you’re on the right side. I believe you and Dumbledore. Come on. ‘Fess up.” Snape turned lobster-red again and covered his face. “I can’t believe I’m actually about to say this,” he mumbled into his hands. “Potter – Harry – I’m – I like men.” “You’re gay?” Harry was incredulous. Snape turned redder yet and kept his eyes over his face. He groaned, the words muffled, “I knew I shouldn’t have said!” “No – Severus – it’s okay – that’s what I was going to tell you!” Harry exclaimed. Snape’s face appeared again. “What?!” “Yeah,” said Harry, feeling not only his face, but also his neck and ears turning a deep, lasting shade of scarlet. “I’m gay, too.” Snape looked distinctly wrong-footed. “Do you – do you have a boyfriend? Oh, Merlin,” he groaned suddenly, putting his hands back up,“ – don’t tell me, you and Weasley – ” Harry laughed heartily at this. “Are you kidding?! He’s hardly my type. Besides,” he added, trying to get Snape’s face back in sight again, “he and Hermione – well, eventually they’ll realize, I hope.” He shrugged. “But me, no, there’s no one.” Severus attempted to calm himself. He had never before willingly shared a secret, and it felt very strange. “Oh. I see. Do they know? About you, I mean.” Harry shook his head, biting his lip. “No. I have to tell them soon. I’m sure they’ll be fine with it, but it still won’t be easy.” Something occurred to Snape. “So, am I the first person you’ve told?” He felt a bit shy about asking. Harry nodded. “Yep. You’re the lucky guy. To get told,” he added hastily, lest Snape misjudge what he had just said. He felt himself turning red again. Way to go, out yourself to your professor and then make it sound like you’re hitting on him – good job, Potter! Snape blushed, too. “I need hardly tell you that you are also the only person I have told,” he said stiffly. Harry’s eyes twinkled greenly. “Does that mean that you don’t have a boyfriend, either?” Still red, Severus looked away again. “No,” he mumbled. “Obviously.” He attempted to make his eyes flash at Potter’s cheek, but failed completely. “Potter,” he complained suddenly, “what are you doing to me? I’ve never felt so vulnerable before, at least, not in a very long time.” Harry looked at him. “Why are you calling me ‘Potter’ again?” he asked. “Never mind, it’s okay, just call me Harry from now on – except in class, I guess. But I’m feeling a bit vulnerable, too. I mean, you know more about me than anyone now!” “I guess I do,” Severus marvelled. “I suppose I should feel privileged.” Harry looked at him sharply, looking for signs of sarcasm, but there were none. Just a completely different expression on the older man’s face than Harry had ever seen before. He did indeed look… human. And not ugly. Harry had always considered Snape ugly, but he found that it was definitely not the case. Rather aristocratic features, to be sure, but not at all bad. He glanced at Fawkes. The phoenix was asleep. “Look,” he said, nudging Severus’ hand and nodding his head toward the bird. Snape laughed softly. “I guess we passed the test tonight.” Harry laughed, too. “I guess so. So,” he continued, suddenly feeling a bit shy, “do we still meet again sometime?” Snape’s eyes were very opaque and hard to read. “Yes. Dumbledore said regularly. One chat does not build a relationship.” Harry felt a bit let down by this. He thought they’d certainly covered a lot of ground, more than one “chat”’s worth, for sure. “Okay. Are you coming back here soon, then?” he asked. Damn! Why do I have to sound like a nervous date? he wondered silently. Wait a second! What did he just think? Nervous DATE? Where in Merlin’s name had THAT come from? Now he was freaking himself out. He looked at Snape and tried desperately to hide this most recent thought from showing on his face. Severus nodded, in answer to the question. “Yes. I’ll come back tomorrow. If you think you can stand another couple of hours with the greasy old bat,” he added, watching Harry’s reaction closely. Harry felt himself flush. Had Snape read that thought in his mind, or had he heard himself and Ron call him that all behind his back? “I said before, you’re not old,” he mumbled, feeling thoroughly ashamed of himself. “But greasy?” Harry looked up to see Severus’ eyes glimmer in amusement. “I didn’t mean – !” he was aghast. “It’s alright. I know I don’t put much thought or effort into my appearance, I know.” Severus looked away. He looked embarrassed. Harry felt terrible. He watched Severus get up and walk around the table to the kitchen door. “I’ll come and see you out, sir.” Snape didn’t say anything, and Harry followed him up the stairs to the ground floor. It was totally dark in the hallway leading to the foyer. Suddenly, Snape turned around and pinned Harry to a portrait-less bit of wall. “What – ?!” “Shh!” Snape breathed. “The portraits!” He placed both hands on Harry’s shoulders and stared deeply into his eyes. The only light was from the moon, coming in through the window above the front door. Harry could only see the other man’s face, shining whitely in the shadows of the hallway, and the glimmer in his dark eyes. He tried desperately to shut away any thoughts of nervous-date-ness. Severus smiled just then, and his face came nearer to Harry’s. “What did I tell you about calling me ‘sir’?” he asked in a soft voice. “Oh! I – ” “Quietly, now, Harry,” Severus said, and Harry could hear the laughter in his voice. “This is the way I punish pupils for calling me by the wrong title or name.” His face was nearer yet. Harry could see his eyes. He concentrated, willed himself to See – and he did – he saw attraction in the other man’s eyes, and a yearning to come alive again. He realized that Severus had placed his face that close just so that Harry could see into his eyes like that, and that he was waiting for Harry’s reaction. Harry bit his lip and nodded, ever so slightly. Severus brought his face even closer, and gently placed his lips against Harry’s. I am kissing Severus Snape, Harry thought suddenly, and nearly panicked. Then it occurred to him how very nice it felt to be kissed, period. And as it went on, as their mouths opened to each other, and their tongues met and probed each other’s mouths, it occurred to Harry that it was particularly nice to be kissed by this particular man. He didn’t want it to end. He wondered now, if all that animosity was not, at least for his part, perhaps related to attraction and frustration. He was not aware of his arms going around Severus and pulling him closer, of his hands gathering fistfuls of black robe. Severus’ fingers were in Harry’s hair. They broke apart, breathing heavily, looking warily at one another. Harry spoke first, in a whisper. “Wow, I don’t remember detentions with you ever being like THAT!” Severus grinned in the dark, partly out of relief at Harry’s reaction. “I know. You probably don’t want to know that I thought of it, though!” As Harry attempted to absorb this new and interesting fact, Severus’ face came in again, and he more than willingly leaned forward to meet it. Gently catching the other man’s lower lip between his lips, Harry sucked very lightly, and was pleased to hear the other moan softly in response. Strong arms pulled him in closer, and the kiss continued. Severus pulled away and began to kiss Harry’s neck, leaving at least one large, red mark. “Severus!” Harry moaned, and let his hands travel further down, lightly, to settle on Snape’s ass. It was surprisingly firm. Harry realized he had never seen the man without a robe on. In this light, he would not be able to see it, anyway, so he began exploring its shape with by feel, also pulling himself closer. Their hips were touching. Severus moaned again, very softly. “Harry.” Harry was kissing his neck, leaving marks on him in turn. “Harry.” Severus pushed himself away from the boy. “I doubt very much this is what Dumbledore intended, in terms of getting less hostile.” He was having difficulty maintaining the evenness of his tone. “This is – ” Harry kissed the corner of his mouth “ – less hostile. And you started it.” He placed his mouth on Severus’, and it was all the other man could do pull away again. “No – listen, Harry – I shouldn’t have done that – you’re my student, this can’t happen –” “But it is happening, and we both want it. And like I said, I’m graduating very soon. We’ll be discreet. Please. I need this. I need you.” “I – you can’t really want me. I don’t want you using me, for experimenting, or whatever.” Harry looked up into Severus’ eyes and saw the intense vulnerability there again. “That’s not it at all, Severus,” he whispered. “It’s you I want.” The other man still hesitated. “Please.” Severus could not resist the Please. But – “But I’m old and ugly.” Harry smiled tenderly. Why hadn’t he seen this before? “No you’re not,” he said. “You’re not that old at all, and you are definitely not ugly. I find you very attractive, in fact.” “You’re just saying that.” Harry could hear the mistrust in Snape’s voice, the fear. “I thought you trusted me.” Harry tilted Severus’ head so that their eyes met again. “I trust you. You need to believe me. You’re attractive, accept it! I could be saying the same things – I’m small, skinny, I have glasses – who would want me? I could just as easily be saying that you could never fancy me.” Severus hesitated, then gave in. “Fine. But no one must know.” “Of course not.” “Your friends will find out.” “I know they will. It’ll be okay.” “Dumbledore will find out.” “Somehow, I don’t really think he’ll care.” “Potter – ” Harry pinched Snape’s ass fiercely. “ – Ouch! Sorry! Harry – are you certain?” Severus searched the boy’s eyes intensely. Harry tilted his head back so that the other could read his emotions and thoughts clearly, leaving his mind as open as possible. “I’m certain. I want this.” Severus could resist it no longer. He brought his mouth to Harry’s in a crushing kiss, which he noticed was rather enthusiastically returned. Harry’s hands were on his ass again, their hips were touching again – and now something else became apparent, too; another shape was – emerging between the two. “Is that you?” Harry murmured against Severus’ mouth. “I thought it was you,” Snape murmured back. He slid one pale, long-fingered hand down between them and placed it on Harry’s erection. Harry made a soft sound and pressed himself into Severus’ hand. He put his own hand against the other’s erection as Severus mirrored the motion. Their arms were around each other again, their crotches pushing against each other, enjoying the friction created by the layers of material separating them. Harry moved slightly, so that he could hook his left leg around Severus’ right, giving them more space to get closer. They were breathing into each other’s mouths, now, rubbing hard against each other. Harry felt close to exploding, in a much more intense way than in any wet dream. Severus slid both hands behind Harry, onto his ass, and lifted the boy slightly off the floor, and squeezed. A little sound forming in the back of his throat, Harry thrust against Severus’ thigh again, and came in a warm rush. He held himself, very still, waiting for Severus to come himself. He heard the other man’s breathing quicken, still gripping Harry’s ass, he pushed harder, harder – his breath caught against Harry’s mouth, and he came, too. They held each other tightly, Harry’s mouth making small movements against Severus’ neck; Severus panting on Harry’s shoulder. Eventually, they collected themselves. Harry pressed a kiss onto Severus’ bruised-feeling lips. “Thank you,” he whispered. Severus felt floored by this. He didn’t know what to say. He was so filled with gratitude himself… “I should be thanking you,” he whispered back. Harry reached out and smoothed back a lock of Severus’ long, dark hair in an amusingly protective gesture for one so much younger than he. He stopped, and touched Severus’ hair again. “Do you use gel?” he asked, still whispering. Severus blushed, still shy, despite just having come in his pants at the wiles of this young man he thought he’d hated for so long. “Yes.” “That’s what it is! It’s not greasy at all, you git, you just use too much gel!” Harry giggled and kissed Snape’s neck. “Oh… I, um… it gets frizzy otherwise,” said Severus, feeling like a teenager again. Harry laughed and shook his head, indicating that no further explanation was necessary. “Come on,” he said, “look at my hair! I’m the one who needs gel or something!” “I like your hair,” Severus said, breathing in the scent of it. “It’s so soft.” Harry looked up the older man, and very deliberately leaned forward and kissed him, very tenderly, very gently. The kiss grew very passionate, and soon they had their fingers tangled in each other’s hair again. “I was on my way out,” Severus said softly, pulling away at last. “Not me who held you up,” Harry said, smirking. “I’ll be back tomorrow night.” “Is that a promise?” “Yes,” said Severus, wondering when the last time he’d promised anybody anything was. “Yes. I’ll be back.” “You’d better be. Or,” Harry’s eyes glinted in the dark, “I’ll have to punish you!” Snape snorted. “I’d like to see you try.” “Is that a challenge?” There was a distinct purr to the boy’s voice. Really, thought Severus, for one so inexperienced, that was very… interesting. As in, arousing. “Yes.” “Consider it taken. Same time tomorrow!” Severus looked down wondrously at the boy. “I’ll be here.” He kissed Harry quickly. “Good night.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: still don’t own them, alas Chapter 4: Further Developments Harry watched the door close behind Severus Snape. Alone in the darkness of the hall, he put his hands to his cheeks to find them very warm. His lips felt a bit puffy. His body was still in high gear, and his mind even more so. What had he just done? He felt euphoric, but something else, too. As he stood there, hands on his face, he realized that this other feeling was panic. Not a lot of it, but a little edge. What had he just done? Dumbledore had asked him to get to be on civil speaking terms with Snape, and he’d gone and gotten sexual with the man. He had come in his pants, humping his teacher’s thigh, for crying out loud! Harry pulled his wand out of his robe pocket, pointed it at himself and muttered “Scourgify.” The mess in his pants disappeared. What was he going to say to the others? Harry sat down on the bottom step, very quietly, so as not to wake that wretched portrait. What was he going to say next time he saw Snape? What would Snape say? Oh, Merlin. What would Dumbledore say when he found out? Harry dug his fingers into his hair, staring at the floor, and suddenly remembered the feel of Severus’ fingers there just moments before. “Shit,” he said aloud. What would he say about the whole thing, himself? Where in Merlin’s name had all that come from? One moment they were managing to talk normally, the next, they were kissing, and worse. And there was no denying, whatever Snape felt about the whole thing, that Harry had liked it very much. What was that? Sexual frustration? Or had he always had feelings for the man? And where had it come from on Snape’s part? Loneliness? Probably. Harry groaned inwardly, suspecting heartily that their next meeting would be rather awkward. He got up and trudged upstairs, vowing not to say anything to anyone. Ever. He could only imagine Ron’s horrified reaction. And the twins. That would very likely shut them up! They would not be able to say anything to that at all! Harry went into the room he and Ron shared, and flopped down on his bed. Ron came in a moment after. “Hey, mate,” he said. “Heard you come up.” “Hi,” Harry mumbled into his pillow. He felt, rather than saw Ron’s concern. “What’s up? You were gone for a long time.” “I know. I…” Harry could not finish his sentence. He was coming down from his high and feeling rather stupid. Snape could not have meant any of it. He felt like a fool. “Harry?” Ron sounded a bit anxious. “What were you doing? Mum said something about meeting with Dumbledore and Snape.” “Mmm-hmm.” “What did they want?” He sounded horrified. Harry said nothing for a moment. What had Snape wanted? “Dumbledore wanted us to talk and resolve our differences.” “Ha!” Ron snorted. “Fat chance!” “He said…” Harry hesitated. “He said that, because of the Prophecy and everything, it’ll probably be this year, with the whole war and everything, and that he wants all his Order on the same side, and that he knows I’ll need… Snape’s help… and that we didn’t have a choice. He left Fawkes to watch us in case we attacked each other.” “Did he attack you?” Ron sounded anxious again. If he only knew, thought Harry, a feeling like a heavy weight settling on his chest. “No. It was… fine.” “Are you sure, Harry? You don’t look so good.” “I’m fine,” Harry said curtly. “I’m just… tired.” “Okay,” said Ron uncertainly. “Do you have to talk to him again?” “Yeah, Dumbledore reckons we should meet until we can at least trust each other and not need Fawkes there anymore.” Ron snorted again. “Like that’ll ever happen.” Harry decided that it would not be prudent to tell his friend that Fawkes had actually fallen asleep, so friendly had he and Snape gotten that evening. Or, in fact, anything more about the entire incident at all. “I’m tired,” he said again. “I think I’ll go to bed.” Ron look taken aback. “Oh. Okay, then. It’s – er – still pretty early, so I think maybe I’ll go and see if Hermione fancies another game of chess or something. Good night.” “Good night.” Harry said, still not looking up. He wriggled himself under his blankets, still fully clothed, but kicking off his trainers, and promptly fell asleep. Morning came. Harry woke up early, having gone to bed fairly early, and looked across the room at Ron. He was still asleep, snoring very lightly, his breath causing one lock of rampantly red hair to rise and fall over his pale skin with each breath. Harry smiled fondly. His friend, who he could trust not to ask questions when Harry wanted to avoid them. He would have to tell Ron soon. About being gay, not about Snape. Snape. Harry sighed inwardly. He was coming back tonight. Things would be clear then. Hopefully. Quietly, Harry got up, dressed, and went downstairs. He would have liked to have gone for a walk, but obviously, that wasn’t permitted outside of Hogwarts without a guardian of some sort. Instead, he sat down at the long table and helped himself to the toast Mrs. Weasley had immediately passed him, knowing it was all he ever ate for breakfast. “Juice, dear?” “Okay.” “How was your meeting last night?” she asked, watching Harry closely. “It was okay.” “Just okay?” “Yeah. It was fine.” “What did Dumbledore and Professor Snape want?” Mrs. Weasley was relentless. Harry repeated what he’d told Ron the night before. “Oh, I think that’s a wonderful idea!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. “I know Professor Snape hasn’t been very fair to you in the past, Harry, but if he’s willing to overlook your differences, I think this is an excellent opportunity for you both to leave those issues behind and start all over again.” She was beaming all over her plump face, and Harry could not bear it for another moment. “I think I’ll go and see if Ron and Hermione are up yet,” he said abruptly, leaving his toast unfinished. Mrs. Weasley looked startled, but said, “Alright, then, dear. If they’re not awake, get them up, would you?” “Okay.” Harry went back upstairs, sighing. The rest of the day was spent with him moping, as Hermione put it, from one place to another, half-heartedly doing his chores and playing games. Finally, at long last, evening arrived. At precisely eight o’clock, the front door was softly opened. Harry was waiting in the kitchen, and listened as soft footsteps made their way down to the basement where he sat. Fawkes was already perched on the cabinet, having just arrived a few minutes before. The kitchen door opened, and Severus paused, his eyes on Harry, then slowly entered the room and closed the door behind him. “Hello,” he said, sounding wary. “Hi.” Harry spoke to his hands. He heard the older man sigh and sit down opposite himself. “What is it, Harry?” Harry winced slightly at hearing his name, spoken so familiarly by that familiar voice. “Nothing.” Snape sounded irritated. “I’m not a fool. Tell me what’s bothering you.” He was not speaking like a teacher yet, and this was a good sign. Harry chanced a look at him. “Sir, I…” “Don’t call me that.” Snape’s voice was calm, but Harry could hear something else beneath it. Was it worry? “I – sorry. I just – oh, I don’t know!” Harry burst out. “What don’t you know?” The voice was even. “I – I don’t know what happened – last night.” Harry felt the ready blush crawl up onto his face and settle there. As he was looking at the table, he could not see Snape’s face, but only the longer, pale fingers which folded into themselves on the table across from him. “Harry. I wondered if this would happen. I suppose we should talk about it.” He glanced at Fawkes, who was watching serenely. Sounding rather awkward, he asked, “What – what did you feel about what happened – yesterday?” Harry’s blush remained planted firmly in place. Choosing the safe answer, “I don’t know what to think.” Severus sighed, and when Harry chanced another look at him, saw that he looked very tired, as though he hadn’t slept. “Are you regretting it?” he asked, and his voice was sharp. As though he expected Harry to. “No – but are you?” Harry stammered. Severus was silent for a minute. When Harry finally looked at him, he answered. “No. I cannot say that I am. I do not know what you will choose to do from this point onward, but if it – ” “Stop,” Harry interrupted. “I just said I didn’t regret it. If I have any say in this, I want things to go on like they started yesterday. I was thinking that you were regretting it.” “Hardly that,” Severus said softly. “I don’t know that I’ve ever had a better day in my whole life.” That statement caught Harry by surprise. “Really?” he asked, feeling very much like he was just a dumb seventeen-year-old for once. Snape nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Although I spent most of the night lying awake, wondering if you would be panicking about what happened and why you let yourself get into a situation where you were practically being molested by your school teacher. And wondering what on earth Dumbledore would say if he knew what had happened, and what would happen if you changed your mind and told him.” He fell silent again, and stole another look at the phoenix, who was still watching benignly. “Not that I expected you would,” he added quietly, “but you cannot help but wonder. I would have lost both my job and Dumbledore’s trust. And you.” “Not me,” Harry said, also speaking softly. “Although I did panic a bit at first. I was thinking that you were the one who was going to regret it, and that you would wonder why on earth you were getting involved with a student. I was thinking it would be all awkward tonight.” “Are we alright?” Severus asked, searching Harry’s face. “What’s going to – ?” “Happen?” Harry finished for him. He smiled, feeling a bit shy by his impending boldness. “The same as yesterday. But tomorrow night, we won’t have to feel awkward.” Severus’ shoulders sagged with relief. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” Harry studied the other’s face again. It was classical. Beautiful. He reached out and took a strand of silky black hair, rubbing it between his fingers and thumb. He said, “It’s soft.” Hardly breathing, Severus said, voice tight, “Less gel.” Harry stood up and leaned across the table and put his mouth against Snape’s, holding the man’s face in both his hands. The kiss was returned immediately and warmly. As it progressed, Severus pulled Harry closer, onto the table top. Suddenly he pulled away, took out his wand and cast several strong Silencing and locking spells at the kitchen door. Severus wrapped his arms around the young man and pulled him close. Harry, drowning in delight, buried his face in the older man’s neck “Come up here,” he said into Severus’ ear. He pulled Snape encouragingly onto the table with him, onto himself. Their two bodies fit together perfectly, and began to move against each other’s immediately. Harry drew Severus’ mouth down to his own, kissed him hard, then broke away, saying, “Yeah, I’m sure. That this is what I want. I think I’ve wanted it for a long time.” Severus’ face drew away, and Harry saw his eyes widen. “Me, too,” he whispered, sounding like he hardly believed his own daring. Harry’s lips curved in a smile, and he pulled Severus down to him again. They were rubbing against each other’s erections, through many layers of fabric, each feeling the other’s hardness. “Do you feel that?” Harry whispered. “I’m hard for you.” He could feel a direct response to these words, as the man above him grew harder yet. “Then let me do something for you,” Severus whispered back, and began unhooking Harry’s robes. He unbuttoned Harry’s school shirt and pants, pausing to rub his thumbs in circles over Harry’s nipples. Then Severus pulled Harry’s pants, releasing his throbbing erection. He kissed Harry’s nipples, his toned belly, and trailed kisses down to his crotch. Pause, and a brief look up at Harry, confirming, then Severus gently placed his mouth on Harry’s member. It felt warm and wet and nothing but wonderful. Harry moaned and tangled his fingers into Severus’ hair. The sensations mounted and mounted, and Harry was bucking his hips upward, off the scrubbed wooden table. Severus did not relent, or release Harry from this wonderful torment, but kept up his ministrations until Harry cried out, hips leaping from the table, feeling his come rush out in a warm flood, into Severus’ waiting mouth. Severus swallowed, and moved back up Harry’s body until he was lying beside him, mouth just inches away. Harry put his fingers back in Severus’ hair, limp and spent, and whispered “Thank you,” just before kissing Snape’s mouth again. It was fascinating – amazing – to taste himself there. Harry moved his leg so that his thigh was touching Severus’ erection. He reacted immediately, pushing forward into Harry’s thigh. “Time to return the favour,” Harry whispered. He scrunched himself downward until his face was at the right place, and began to fumble with the many fastenings of Snape’s robes. “I – I’ve never done this before,” he whispered hesitantly, looking up at Severus’ face. Severus snorted. “Oh, and like I have,” he said, rolling his eyes, but with an indulgent smile. Harry smiled back, feeling both relieved and touched. Of course he hadn’t known that. He finally reached the pants layer, undid the zips and buttons, and the poor man’s erection flew forth from its prison. Harry pondered smart-assed comments and decided to forgo the silly idea. He did what seemed natural, and took the throbbing member into his mouth and began to suck. Using his tongue and lips, he followed Severus’ moans to guide his actions, until he was rewarded by Severus’ eager hips moving upward to gain more purchase. Harry took this opportunity to place his hands beneath Snape’s ass, cupping and squeezing the cheeks as they came down again, causing the man to breathe and moan harder than ever. Harry knew that he was too proud to allow himself to say anything, but as Harry gave a particular vicious suck, Severus came and a cry came out of his throat nonetheless. Harry swallowed and immediately snaked his way back up, resting himself on Snape’s chest. “Thank you,” Severus breathed, shaking sweaty hair back from his face. “You were amazing,” he whispered. Harry blushed again. “You, too,” he said. “I – I never knew that was your first time on the job, as it were.” His smile was wide. Now Severus blushed, too. “It has been my first time in… in every way,” he said, looking away from Harry, although the arms still held him close. Harry felt something stir in his chest, a powerful surge of emotion. “I’m glad it was me,” he whispered. “And it was obviously my first for everything, too.” “I’m glad, too,” Severus whispered back. He turned Harry’s face toward his, pressed a kiss on each temple, and then kissed his mouth again. “You taste young.” Harry kissed him back. “You taste… like me,” he replied, turning red again. Severus quirked a smile. “So, good then,” he teased. “Yeah. Definitely good,” Harry teased back. “Like you.” Severus glanced at the clock on the wall, sighed, and sat up, gently dislodging Harry from his chest. He re-buttoned himself and rearranged his robes to perfection. “I must go,” he said. “Though I do not want to. People will wonder if we ‘talk’ too long.” Harry sighed, too, and re-dressed himself similarly. They got off the table. Severus glanced at it, smiling wryly, and cast several heavy cleaning spells. “Now you’ll have something special to think about every time you eat here,” he said sardonically. Harry laughed and slipped his arms around Severus’ waist from behind. “Good,” he said, remembering his uneaten toast that morning. He turned Snape around and kissed his throat. Severus kissed the top of Harry’s head, then turned his face up to his and kissed his mouth again. “Same time, tomorrow,” he said. “You better. I haven’t even punished you yet.” Harry’s eyes twinkled. Snape’s eyebrows flew upward archly. “Is that so? Well, we’ll just have to test your… punishing skills tomorrow then, mustn’t we? Let us hope they are better than your skill in Potions.” Harry slapped Snape’s ass. “Git!” he said. Severus laughed, pleased with himself. “Just kidding. Tomorrow, then.” “Yes. Tomorrow.” Not wanting him to go at all, Harry reached up and pressed his lips to Snape’s again. Severus reluctantly broke away after a bit, and turned to go. He stopped, though, and turned back to look up at Fawkes. The trouble was, the phoenix was gone. He glanced at Harry, who hadn’t seen, and decided not to say anything about the distinctly nervous feeling that was beginning to settle in his midsection. “Good night,” he said. He left the house and Disapparated to Hogsmeade, where he walked the short distance to his private quarters at Hogwarts. Removing his outer cloak, he moved to the sideboard and poured himself a small shot of firewhiskey, and took himself to sit down in his favourite armchair in front of the fireplace. Trouble was, someone else was already sitting there. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: don’t own anything you recognize Chapter 5: Dumbledore and Ron Snape gasped. “Dumbledore!” The older man was looking calm, his long fingers steepled thoughtfully in front of him. “Severus. Forgive me for barging in like this.” At a loss, Severus floundered, “Of – of course, Headmaster. You are always welcome here.” Dumbledore smiled and inclined his head, acknowledging this. “Please sit down.” Snape sat down in the other chair, wishing very much that there was more firewhiskey in the glass tumbler he held. He had a feeling he would soon be needing it. “Er – what brings you here, Dumbledore?” Dumbledore’s eyes were very light and blue and piercing in the firelight, and he said, simply, “Severus. I’ve come to talk to you about Harry.” Snape’s world was rapidly turning over. He was very much aware that his pulse was racing, that his clothes were still damp with sweat, that he could still feel Harry’s lips on his own, his hands on his body. “What is it?” he managed. “Relax, Severus. I am not angry. Surprised, perhaps, but not angry. No,” Dumbledore went on, staring thoughtfully into the fire, “but I thought we should talk about it.” “Fawkes.” Severus said, by way of asking for an explanation. “Of course,” Dumbledore replied. “He tells me everything.” He leaned forward. “Is this something you truly want, Severus?” Severus felt like he was drowning. Why did he have to answer questions about this, when he was so unsure of everything himself? “I – I think so, sir,” he said, looking at his glass. “You have wanted it for some time?” “I did not realize it,” Severus said stiffly. “But yes. I believe so.” “You have been aware of your sexual preferences.” Snape could not believe that this topic had come up for discussion between himself and the Headmaster. “Yes.” “Were you also aware of Harry’s?” “No. Not until yesterday.” Remembering yesterday, the conversation, and what had followed, Severus felt himself blush again, traitorously. Dumbledore leaned back, looking satisfied. “How did what occurred yesterday come about? Fawkes fell asleep,” he added fondly, “and you must have left the room.” Still hot in the face, “Yes. I – I don’t quite know, sir. It just seemed to happen.” “You do not recall who – ah – made the first move?” Severus thought, and a sudden memory came to him: [“What did I tell you about calling me ‘sir’?” he asked in a soft voice.“Oh! I – ”“Quietly, now, Harry,” Severus said, and Harry could hear the laughter in his voice. “This is the way I punish pupils for calling me by the wrong title or name.” His face was nearer yet. Harry bit his lip and nodded, ever so slightly. Severus brought his face even closer, and gently placed his lips against Harry’s.] “I did,” Severus said, so quietly that Dumbledore could hardly hear it. He looked away, face burning with shame. He had, after all, been the one to do it. There was no question in his mind that the whole thing would not have happened if he had not initiated it. Harry would never have simply kissed his professor. But he responded, a voice in his head said. He said he didn’t regret it. He said he wanted it to go on. “And I assume it must have gone over well, as it continued this evening,” Dumbledore said, carefully looking at the ceiling. When Severus did not answer, he added gently, “Harry must have responded favourably. It was he, after all, who insisted that it continue tonight, was it not?” Cautiously, Severus allowed himself to feel something akin to relief. “Yes,” he said, sounding uncertain. “He – he said he did not regret – any of it. That he wanted it to go on as it began.” Dumbledore smiled. “You know that I do not care about people’s preferences, Severus,” he said. “Harry is an adult. A young one, yes, but the things he has had to deal with his entire life have forced him to grow up prematurely. I am glad for his sake if he has found someone who can make him happy and protect him, at least a little. And I am also glad for your sake, Severus. I know that you have been lonely. I know what doubts you carry about yourself. All I can say is that you both have remarkable taste.” While Severus was still pondering this rather incredulously, Dumbledore went on. “I am also very much aware that, for the remaining year, he is still your student. Therefore, while I am perfectly content with your relationship, I must insist on secrecy between the two of you. I have no doubt,” he said dryly and emphatically, “that Harry’s friends will find out. This is simply unavoidable. The Granger girl is far more intelligent that most of us even realize, and Harry is simply too close to Ron for him not to guess. They are loyal to a fault, and will not give away your secret. I will also be speaking with them, once they know. I know that you will not tell anyone. You would not have told me, but been horribly aware that I knew. That is why I brought it up, and soon, so that your worry will not be a concern between you and Harry.” Relief washed over Severus in an almost blinding wave. “Sir? Should I tell Harry that he can tell them?” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “I was going to speak to him myself, but why don’t you, Severus? It will save me a trip, at least.” Before Snape could collect himself and respond, blushing furiously all the while, Dumbledore spoke again. “And now, I think, I will let you get on with your evening. Thank you for your time, and again, I beg your forgiveness for the intrusion.” He rose, and so did Snape, following Dumbledore to the door. He hesitated, not knowing how to say this. Dumbledore turned to face him, light still glimmering in the depths of his ancient blue eyes. All he could manage was, “Thank you.” His voice, curse it, was trembling slightly. Dumbledore put a hand on Snape’s shoulder, willing some of his own confidence in the man to sink in. He saw the vulnerability in the younger man’s deep eyes, which he had not seen since all those years before, when he had helped Severus come back to the side of the Light. “I have always had complete confidence and trust in you, Severus,” he said, very quietly. “I have faith in the decisions you make. Be happy.” He turned to go, allowing Severus to be alone in peace, and caught a glimpse, as the door was closing, of a pale hand coming up to Severus’ face. The door closed, and Dumbledore was gone.* * Harry, feeling even more suffused with happiness than he had the night before, went dancing upstairs. Are you skipping? The voice in his head asked incredulously. Well, that just PROVES that you’re a total fairy! Harry was too happy to even care. He went into his room. Ron was already there, and in one second, had taken stock of Harry’s flushed face and silly grin. A look of confusion crossed his face. “What’s up, mate?” he asked. “Nothing much.” Harry bounced onto his bed, still grinning foolishly. He realized that Ron was staring at him. “Good meeting with Snape, was it?” he said dryly. To his considerable surprise, Harry’s face got redder, but he didn’t say anything, just looked toward the window. Ron pressed on. “Harry.You’re grinning like a fool.” “Mmm.” Harry said, trying to think of some way of putting this off. Ron was bound to find out, Severus was right. He decided on just letting Ron stumble into it. Just then, Hermione knocked lightly, then came in without waiting for a response. “Oh, you’re both here,” she said, sounding surprised. “Hello, Harry. How was your meeting with Snape?” Harry shrugged, still smiling. “Fine.” “He came bouncing in here, and he’s been grinning like an idiot the whole time, and he won’t say anything,” Ron complained. Hermione made a thoughtful-sounding noise, and went to sit on Ron’s bed beside him. “Just fine?” she directed this at Harry. Harry was still smiling. “Well… yeah. Quite fine.” “Well, that’s good,” she said cautiously, looking quickly at Ron. “So, you’re getting over your differences, are you?” Harry could have burst out laughing. He realized that there was no possible way, with both of them questioning him, that he could hide it. Besides, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to. They were his best friends. He was happy. Why not tell them? “You could say that,” he said, his voice full of laughter. Hermione’s brow immediately knitted itself up, and she looked quizzically at Ron again. “See what I mean?” he said, shrugging. “I dunno.” She looked back at Harry. “Harry, what’s going on?” “What do you think’s going on?” he crossed his arms and legs and waited. Hedwig came fluttering down from her roost on top of the old wardrobe and perched on his knee. He stroked her, waiting for his friends to guess the truth. He wondered if they would be able to comprehend it. Suddenly, this was very fun. He was about to out himself and tell a big secret all at once. Hermione gave him a deep, probing look, almost sharp. “I’m not sure what to think. Is there something you want to tell us, Harry?” She knows, he thought. “Well, sure,” he said casually, still petting Hedwig. “I guess I should have told you guys before, but I dunno… the timing never seemed right, and I’m always bothering you guys with stuff.” “That’s not your fault, you’re Harry Potter, you git,” said Ron. “You always have stuff going on, you can’t help that.” Harry felt a surge of affection for his long-time friend. “I know I can’t, mate. But this is a bit different.” Ron snorted. “Different than being the only one can defeat Volde – ” “Shh!” Hermione interrupted him. “Tell us, Harry.” “Well,” said Harry, thinking of the way Severus had said it the night before, “I – well – I like men.” There was a small silence. Harry’s eyes met Hermione’s. “I knew it,” she said softly. “Well, I wondered,” she amended. Harry looked round at Ron. Ron’s eyes were wide, and his mouth was gaping a bit. Harry laughed. Hermione scowled and dug Ron in the ribs with her elbow. “Harry, mate,” he said, sounding dazed, “why didn’t you tell us before?” Relief surged through Harry. “I always meant to, I just, well, like I said, I always have so much stuff going on. Besides,” he added slyly, “I thought you guys might like to have a chance to focus on yourselves a bit more.” They both looked confused. “What do you mean, mate?” Ron asked, sounding as confused as he looked. Hermione looked similarly non-plussed. “On each other, I should say,” Harry amended, and rewarded by both of them looking immediately very embarrassed. They both tried to talk at once. “Oh, Harry – ” “Mate, I – ” “Never mind,” he interrupted them, grinning at their blushes, “you two can sort that out without me around to pester you. In the mean time, I reckon I’ll go to bed.” “Wait, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed. “You can’t do that! What about your meeting? Why are you so happy about it?” This got Ron’s attention, too, and his blush faded a bit. “Yeah, Harry, you still haven’t answered our questions.” Suddenly he gasped, putting two and two together. “Wait a minute!” Hermione got it, too. “Not you and Snape!” she gasped. She turned to look at Ron, but he was gaping at Harry, waiting for an answer. Harry continued stroking Hedwig composedly. “Yep. That’s it. That must be a record, you figuring something out before Hermione!” Ron flushed again, though he knew Harry was just teasing. “But – Harry, you aren’t – you can’t be serious! Snape?! I mean, okay, you like men, fine, but of all people – !” Hermione looked at Harry, too, looking slightly worried. “Tell us more, Harry.” “Well,” Harry said, and paused. “I guess Dumbledore said we had to have meetings, to get over our differences, for the sake of the war, basically. He also said that the two of us are like sons to him, and that he knows we’ll need each other’s help to win against Voldemort. He said he was leaving Fawkes to watch over our meetings, to make sure we didn’t hurt each other. So, we started talking right away, and we talked about my dad, and I… apologized about the Pensieve thing, and stuff…” “Oh, good,” said Hermione. “I’m so glad you guys finally talked about that.” “Yeah, me, too,” said Harry. “I’d actually almost forgotten about it, and then he brought it up – not in a nasty way – ” he added, seeing the look on Ron’s face. “Well, I realized that I’d really hurt him, and we just talked about everything, and agreed to call each other by our first names. And then suddenly I realized I was feeling kind of nervous, like it was a date or something. See, Dumbledore made us look each other in the eyes, to see each other as humans, not as enemies, before he left, so we did that again, and…” Harry trailed off.Hermione was still watching him intently. “And all that Occlumency you two’ve done together,” she said. “That must mean that you could kind of read each other’s thoughts when you did that.” “Yeah,” Harry said. “He’d said something about being a greasy old bat, and I said he wasn’t old, and then I kind of realized that I actually thought he wasn’t ugly, either. And, well, when I looked in his eyes, I – um…” “Was he attracted to you?” Ron asked, still sounded dumbstruck, and perhaps a bit revolted. Hermione glared at him for being so blunt. “Yes,” Harry answered simply. “And then, just as he was leaving, I accidentally called him ‘sir’ again, when I’d said I wouldn’t, outside of class, and when we got into the hallway, he grabbed me and pushed me against a wall, and said he had to punish me for calling him sir.” “He attacked you?” Ron’s voice was loud. “No!” Harry said, his smile slipping for a second. Then it returned, mischievously. “He kissed me.” Hermione gasped again, her hands flying up to her face. “He did?!” Harry nodded, feeling his face becoming dreamy. “Did you kiss him back?” Ron asked bluntly. Harry nodded again. “And – and – how… was it?” asked Hermione faintly. Harry closed his eyes, smiling. “Beautiful.” “Is that all that happened?” Ron could be very direct. Harry opened his eyes. He felt the blush returning, and mumbled something. “What was that?” Ron asked, eyes narrowing at Harry. “I said, ‘not really’,” Harry mumbled, slightly louder. Hedwig decided she’d had enough of the visit and flew back up to her perch on the wardrobe, leaving Harry feeling slightly abandoned. “Do I want to know?” Ron mumbled, turning red himself. “Probably not.” Harry’s voice was tight. “Harry,” Hermione’s voice drew his eyes back to her. “Was it – was it – I mean, how was it?” She was blushing herself, and definitely avoiding looking at Ron this time. Harry smiled at her, and said again, “Beautiful.” “But – ” Ron interjected, “you were so miserable last night when you came to bed, and today, you just moped around all day. What happened after?” “Nothing,” Harry said quickly. “I just – I just panicked, I guess. I figured he would go home and realize how stupid it had been, and things would be horribly awkward and I would feel like such a fool. I mean, come on, could either have you predicted how Snape would be in that situation?” “No,” said Ron flatly, “but then, I can’t imagine Snape kissing anyone, either.” He didn’t add, Or anyone kissing Snape, for that matter. “So,” Hermione wedged herself back into the fray, “How were things tonight, when he got here?” Harry shook his head, smiling at himself. “They were fine. A little bit awkward at the beginning, but he asked me if I was regretting it, and I said no, and he said he wasn’t, either, and then it was fine.” Heat crept up his neck and face again, remembering their activities on the table. “More than fine.” “What happened tonight?” Ron blurted out, ignoring Hermione’s “Ron!” Harry met Ron’s eyes directly. “We sucked each other off, alright?” Ron gasped. “You did? I mean,” he added hastily, shooting a look at Hermione’s reddened face, “it’s just that – wow, Harry, you must really like him!” Harry smiled again. “I think I have for a long time,” he said, admitting it. “And he must have, too,” said Hermione. Still blushing and not looking at Ron, she said, “Well, I’m happy if you’re happy, Harry. It’s just hard to believe, Snape, of all people!” “You should see his hair now,” said Harry, happy that the critical moment had passed. “I told him yesterday that he was using too much gel, and now it doesn’t look greasy anymore.” “Well, that’s something,” said Ron, fighting the urge to sound sarcastic. “Harry,” asked Hermione tentatively, “was that – was that your first time, with anyone?” Harry laughed. “Yep. It was my first kiss, besides Cho’s, never mind anything else. His, too.” “Snape’s?” she said, sounding disbelieving. “His first time, ever?” “Yes. Okay, mate, are you going to hurl over there, or are you going to be okay?” Harry shot at Ron, whose eyes were round. “I… I’m fine. Sorry, Harry,” Ron said, not looking at Hermione. “It’s okay.” “But, Harry,” Hermione’s voice sounded worried now. “Was Fawkes there tonight?” Harry’s heart plummeted like a stone. “Er – yes, I suppose he was,” he said. “Oh, Merlin, I totally forgot about him.” “So that must mean that Dumbledore knows,” said Ron. “I don’t even want to think about it,” said Harry flatly. “But I really do want to go to sleep. And like I said, you two should go and… talk, or something. Chess, indeed!” This he directed at Ron, whose ears and neck were matching his hair now. “Go and snog already.” Stammering and blushing and not looking at one another, Harry laughed out loud. “Honestly, you two! Do I have to do everything here? Ron, Hermione likes you. Hermione, Ron likes you. There. Anyone have any objections to what I just said?” Silence. Then Ron peeked out from under his fringe at Hermione. “Do you really like me?” he managed to get out. Eyes round, Hermione seemed unable to speak, so she just nodded. “Do you really like me?” she squeaked. Ron nodded, too. In almost slow-motion, their heads moved together, until they were only a few inches apart. There they stopped. Then Hermione smiled reassuringly, put her hand on Ron’s knee, leaned forward the last few inches and touched her lips to his. Ron’s eyes went wider then ever, while hers closed, then he closed his eyes, too, and kissed back. After a few moments, Harry cleared his throat. They jumped apart, looking extremely embarrassed. “Still here,” he said dryly. “Hence my wanting you two to leave the room.” Then, seeing that they seemed incapable of speech, he said, “Come on, nothing to be embarrassed about. I just told you guys that I’m gay and gave and received my first blow job tonight. Get over yourselves!” He laughed, breaking their tension. Ron blushed more at this than at anything else and flung his pillow at Harry’s head. Harry threw it back. “Fine, we’ll go!” Ron said, and got up, pulling Hermione up by her hand. “Come on,” he told her, and his face was stamped with tenderness. They moved to the door, and Harry watched them, smiling furtively. At the door, Hermione stopped and turned back. Suddenly, she darted over and threw her arms around Harry. “Thank you!” she whispered in his ear. He hugged her back, hard. “And Harry, I’m so glad, for you!” “I am, too,” he whispered back. “Thanks for being such a great friend. Now go and get yourself snogged! That’s an order!” She giggled and disentangled herself. “Okay. Good night!” She quickly went to Ron, who was waiting out in the hallway, closing the door behind her. Harry got undressed and went to sleep, the thought of Dumbledore only a nagging shadow behind his dreamy thoughts of Severus. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize Chapter 6: Night At eight o’clock the next evening, Harry was already waiting for Severus in the kitchen. Practically drumming his fingers on the table (which made him smile) from impatience. Finally, he heard the turn open, the footsteps, and the door opening. There he was. Harry couldn’t help but grin, and was pleased to see the other man return a rare smile. “Hello,” said Severus. Harry got up from the table and walked over, very slowly and deliberately, aware that Severus was watching his progress intently. He slid his hands up Severus’ chest to rest on his shoulders, leaned up and very gently laid his mouth against the other’s. Severus responded instantly, deepening the kiss and sliding his tongue into Harry’s mouth. When it finally ended, they were both gasping for air, and Harry finally said, “Hello, Severus.” “That was quite the hello,” said Severus, with another rare smile. He looked up at the cabinet where Fawkes had sat the previous two evenings. It was empty. He smiled again, to himself. “Let’s sit down for a bit, Harry,” he said, taking Harry’s hand and leading him across the room. “I just wanted to talk for a bit.” “Alright,” said Harry amiably. He gave Severus a sweet look that plainly said that anything Severus wanted to do was fine by him. “Harry,” said Severus. “I just wanted to put your mind at rest – I don’t know if you realized, but Dumbledore knows about this. Us.” Harry felt like he had just been plunged into cold water. “He – he does?” he gasped. Severus wanted to hug him. “Yes, but it’s okay, Harry. He doesn’t mind.” “You’ve talked to him?” Severus smiled wryly. “I had to. He was in my apartment when I got back to Hogwarts last night.” Harry reached across the table and intertwined his fingers with Snape’s. “What did he say?” “Oh, several things. But he said that he’s happy for us. He asked how it came about. He says we’ll have to be completely discreet at school, and that no one can know about us, except for – ” “Wait,” Harry broke it, sounding a bit desperate. “I, er – Ron and Hermione – ” “Yes, Ron and Hermione,” Severus finished, with a smile. Harry looked confused, so he continued. “That’s what I was going to say. Dumbledore says it’s alright if they know – he completely expects them to find out – though it seems that, perhaps, they already have?” Harry grinned. “I couldn’t help it, Severus. Hermione will get anything out of anyone.” “As Dumbledore expected,” Snape said dryly. “It’s alright, though. I didn’t want you to worry. And Fawkes, it seems, won’t be coming anymore.” Harry looked up at the cabinet, then turned back to Severus with a rather different expression on his face. “Well, that’s good, then,” he said, smirking, “since two people coming in one room is probably enough.” “Goodness, Potter, what language,” Severus said, his dark eyes flashing in amusement. Harry launched himself over the table, wedging himself between Snape and the table, on the other man’s lap. He planted his mouth on Snape’s neck and proceeded to create a large, evil-looking hickey there. Severus giggled, most uncharacteristically. It tickled. “Potter!” he said, fully aware of his choice of name, “Stop that!” “Stop calling me Potter!” Harry buried his face into Severus’ neck and left several further hickeys. His hands slid beneath the inky fabric of Severus’ robes, to fondle his nipples through the tight material of his shirt. “You’re being punished,” Harry said, his voice muffled. Suddenly he drew back and looked up at Severus. “We don’t have to stay here,” he said. “What? What do you mean?” “We could go somewhere more comfortable,” Harry said. “The drawing room? Come on.” He unwedged himself and pulled Snape up by the hand. Snape followed him, unresisting. “What about the other people who live here?” Severus asked uncertainly. Being caught snogging Harry Potter – or worse – by Molly Weasley was not high on his list of priorities. “It’s only Ron, Ginny and Hermione right now,” Harry said. “Remus is on a mission, the twins are at their flat above their shop, and Mr. & Mrs. Weasley are visiting relatives in Wiltshire until the weekend. No one else is around.” Catching the look in Severus’ eye, he added, “Don’t worry, I warned them. They know not to come downstairs.” Severus was a little embarrassed by this, though he didn’t say anything. Harry led him upstairs to said drawing room. It was a nice room, full of antique furniture, velvet couches and the like. Harry took him right over to the burgundy couch on the far side. “Sit,” he directed playfully. Severus sat back, one arm draped in casual elegance over the back of the sofa. Harry devoured him with his eyes for a moment, then straddled Severus’ lap once more. He put both hands on Severus’ face and drew it to his for a long, melting kiss. As it went on, Severus felt himself growing more and more aroused. It didn’t help that Harry’s erection, noticeable through the many layers of clothing separating them, was pressing into his lap, where it could probably feels his own already. Severus slid his hands up the back of the young man’s shirt, then pulled it right off. Harry responded eagerly, fumbling with the catches of Severus’ cloak and shirt. Finally, everything was off from the waist up, and Harry went wild, like a child in a candy shop. He was kissing and sucking on Severus’ nipples, his collar bone, his neck, everywhere he could reach from his position. Severus responded just as eagerly, feeling like a schoolboy again. He moaned his pleasure into Harry’s mouth and pressed kisses onto his shoulders, neck, his face, his chest, as their hands explored each other’s torsos. “Severus,” murmured Harry into Snape’s ear like a prayer, “I want you.” He slid his tongue into said ear and Severus shivered. “You can have me,” he breathed back, revelling in the scent of Harry’s hair. Harry’s breath caught. “How can I have you?” he asked softly. “Any way you want,” Severus whispered. “Do you want… to be inside me?” Harry’s breathing grew ragged. “Yes, but… are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.” Severus pulled Harry’s face back so that he could see it clearly. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ve never been more happy that this has happened between us, Harry. I want to give myself to you. I… never thought I would feel this way about someone, and I’m glad that I finally do.” He kissed Harry with so much tenderness, Harry almost could have forgotten what they were in the middle of. “I’m glad, too,” Harry said softly. He stood up and so did Severus, and they each began to take off their pants, never taking their eyes off each other. The last layers were cast aside, and Harry drew in his breath. Severus was beautiful. There was no other word for it. It was amazing, that so many years had passed with no one ever having seen this beautiful person before. Harry could hardly believe he was the lucky one to be the first. He caught Severus staring just as hungrily at his own naked form. Their erections pointed straight out at one another. Harry stepped forward, until the tip of his touched the tip of Severus’. Now it was he who drew in his breath suddenly. They began to rub against each other again. But Severus stopped. Without a word, he gave Harry a meaningful look, and deliberately turned around lay down on the couch, his back to Harry. Harry lay down beside him, spooning him, and trailed kisses down his spine. Severus shivered again. Harry began to caress the soft skin of Severus’ firm ass, delighting in being allowed to see it at last. “I’ll try not to hurt you,” he whispered, and very slowly, very gently slid himself into the man. He heard a sharp intake of breath. “Are you okay?” he whispered. “Yes,” Severus whispered back. “Go – go on.” Harry paused doubtfully, and, as though sensing it, Severus added, “I want to feel you inside me. Please.” The ‘please’ nearly finished Harry right there. He began to move. Merlin, it was good. It was sinfully good. He reached around his lover and took his erection in his hand. Severus was still rock hard, and thrust gratefully against Harry’s grasp. They were moving together, Harry pushing in harder and deeper with each thrust. “Oh, Sev – I can’t – I’m going to come – ” he gasped. “Then come,” came Snape’s voice, rasping from the pleasure. Harry did what he was told, come shooting from himself, deep into the man he held. At the same time, Severus’ back arched and he came into Harry’s hand and the back of the couch. For a few minutes, they just lay there, panting, recovering, Harry still inside Severus. Then Severus shifted, pulling himself away from Harry so that he could turn around to face him. He kissed Harry very slowly and very gently. “Thank you,” he whispered. “No, thank you,” Harry corrected, fingers stroking the soft, soft skin of Severus’ hip. “No, I mean… thank you for all of this. I can’t tell you what it means to me, that you don’t hate me anymore, that anyone could willing be this intimate with me.” Harry could hardly believe his ears. “Severus, you’re beautiful. I still can’t believe I got to be your first. The world does not know what they’re missing. Not that I want them to! But I’m every bit as glad that you don’t hate me anymore, either. I think I’ve actually had feelings for you for a long time already.” “Really, Harry?” Severus asked, needing to believe it. Harry nodded. “I have, too. It took me until Dumbledore was questioning me about everything for me to realize it. But I have.” “I’m so glad we’ve found each other at last,” Harry whispered, and snuggled even closer to Severus, laying his head on Severus’ chest. Severus was filled with wonder, his arms around the beautiful young man, chin resting lightly on his head. From the sounds of Harry’s breathing, he was going to fall asleep there. He summoned a velvety blanket from another couch using wandless magic, and placed several Sealing charms on the drawing room door, for he was certainly not interested in leaving at this point. Harry was not asleep, but he felt the blanket drift down onto them and smiled into Severus’ chest, knowing the implications. He felt Severus give a soft sigh and settle more fully into the sofa and himself, clearing planning to fall asleep there. Harry pressed a kiss to his lover’s chest, and was rewarded with a kiss on the top of his head. They fell asleep. * In the morning, Ron woke up, the dawn light shining into his eyes. When he had fallen asleep, Harry had not been in the room. Which was fine with him, since Hermione had been there for quite awhile. Ron looked over, and was moderately shocked to see the other bed still empty. The implications of this filled his mind’s blanks immediately, and he decided that he did not want to deal with this alone. He got up, dressed, and went to find Hermione. The door to the room she shared with Ginny was still closed. Ron opened it as quietly as possible and crept over to his girlfriend’s bed. Both of them were still asleep. Wanting very much not to wake his girlfriend in her bed with his sister watching, he very gently touched Hermione’s face and put his hand over her mouth to keep her from making a sound that would wake Ginny. Her eyes opened right away, round and questioning, and Ron beckoned to her to get up and come with him. She nodded, grabbed a dressing gown, and left the room with him. “What’s wrong?” she asked, eyes round, as soon as they were out in the hallway. “Harry didn’t come up to bed last night.” Ron said this, then waited for her reaction. Hermione’s eyes grew even rounder. “I wonder where he is!” “Well, I think we know who he’s with,” said Ron pointedly. Hermione covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh, my,” she said. “That was quick!” “I’m a little paranoid of going anywhere in the house, lest I stumble in on them,” Ron said grimly. “Come with me?” She nodded, said “Okay,” and went with him. They didn’t have to search long. The doors to the drawing room were magically sealed. They exchanged a glance, and Ron nodded. Hermione whispered, “Alohomora!” and the door made a soft clicking sound. She turned the knob and they peeked into the room. What they saw there made them both feel faint. There were two people, both naked (at least from the waist up; the blanket was covering the rest of them) lying entwined in each other’s bodies on the velvet couch on the far side. Their arms were wrapped about one another. And if the sight of the back of Harry’s head (black hair extra rumpled) wasn’t enough to convince them, there was also Severus Snape’s face, looking utterly serene in sleep, resting just above it. Hermione quickly closed the door. “Well, at least one of them looks pretty happy,” she said, sounding dubious. Ron nodded, looking very serious. “I guess I’ll just have to accept it. If Snape makes Harry happy, then fine. I just hope he doesn’t treat him like he always has in class, that’s all.” Hermione nodded, too. “I’m glad you see it that way,” she murmured, giving him a light kiss. “C’mon, let’s go eat breakfast.” As they were eating, they heard two pairs of footsteps descending the stairs. The door opened, and Harry peeked around it. “Oh, hi – er – just eating breakfast, are you?” “You’re not disturbing us,” Hermione said quickly. “Come in.” “And bring your ‘friend’ with you,” Ron added, in a very Malfoy-esque drawl. Harry blushed to the roots of his hair, and turned to consult with Snape, who must have been behind him. After a moment, they both entered the room, Snape looking distinctly wrong-footed and somewhat uncomfortable. Harry had Snape by the hand and was pulling him into the room, while the older man followed reluctantly. “Good morning,” Hermione said in a tone of studied unconcern, with a slight smile. “Hello,” said Ron, wisely deciding to leave off the “Professor”. Snape nodded stiffly. “Granger. Weasley.” Harry looked relieved, and visibly squeezed Snape’s hand. They sat down. Ron turned to Hermione. “So, what were you saying about Ancient Runes?” She hesitated, then said, “Well, studying them has been really important, in terms of learning about all the Goblin Rebellions and stuff, and…” As she continued, a wave of relief washed over Severus, and he shot Harry a grateful look. His friends had decided to be casual about it for Harry’s sake, and everything was decidedly less awkward this way. Harry grinned back, shrugging. What could he say. They were good friends. He kicked Hermione under the table by way of showing his thanks. Without skipping a beat, she shot him a quick grin, eyebrows raised, and kept talking to Ron. Severus did not miss the look or the grin, but decided to say nothing. Who knew, perhaps they would become his friends, too. Merlin knew (and Dumbledore) that he needed some. Harry was sitting very close beside him, close enough that his friends would not see when he put his arm around Harry’s waist and squeezed very gently. It had only been three days, but he thought that he was in love. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Chapter 7: Back to Hogwarts The next few weeks were spent in wonder for both Harry and Severus. Although Mr. & Mrs. Weasley did not know about the relationship, they assumed that Severus’ constant presence in the evenings were the ongoing meetings. Harry’s mood was very content, and although Molly wondered at this, she said nothing. Harry slept in his own bed at nights, although the room was vacated during “meeting” times. They had a routine: Severus would come down to the kitchen to meet Harry, then they would wait until the coast was clear and Apparate upstairs to the room. They spent much of their time talking. Only a couple of times had they fallen asleep in each other’s arms, to be gently woken by Ron, telling Severus the time, and tactfully leaving to allow the goodbye’s to be said. It became a tacit understanding that Ron and Hermione did not refer to Severus as anything at all, not Snape, not Professor, not sir. They all knew that this would change once they were back at Hogwarts. Finally, one night at the end of August, Severus decided to bring it up. This had been one of the nights where they had not talked, but made love instead, and now they lay on Harry’s narrow twin bed, wrapped in each other’s arms as closely as possible. “Harry,” Severus murmured into Harry’s hair. “Mmm,” Harry responded, his lips moving against Severus’ cheekbone. “The day after tomorrow, school starts again.” There was a pause. Then, “What are you saying?” Harry asked, not moving. Severus could feel tension growing in him. “Relax, it’s okay. I just thought we should talk about it.” “What do we need to talk about?” “Us. How we keep this going.” Harry was relieved. He was worried that Severus might be changing his mind, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort of keeping secrecy. He snuggled in even closer. “Can’t we just keep having our ‘meetings’?” Severus considered. “I suppose. But it will become clear, I assume, that we no longer despise one another, and added to that, Dumbledore probably did not want people knowing about the meetings in the first place. And you’ve gotten too good at Potions now for us to consider calling them remedial Potions classes.” Harry laughed, his breath warming Severus’ cheek. “It doesn’t have to become obvious that we don’t hate each other anymore. We could just pretend. And come on, I’m a seventh-year now; surely I’m allowed some freedom and privacy.” “A pity Dumbledore didn’t make you Head Boy,” Severus said. “Then you’d have your own rooms.” Harry gave a small shrug. “It’s alright. Ron and Hermione probably need them more, anyway. I didn’t want to be Head Boy. Dumbledore knows I have enough else to be thinking about this year.” “The Dark Lord,” Severus said softly. “The war. The prophecy.” “Yeah, and NEWT’s, and quidditch, and you,” Harry added. He hesitated. They hadn’t spoken about this since back in fifth year, during his initial Occlumency lessons. “Severus… I know I asked you this before, but why don’t you feel capable of calling Voldemort by his name?” He felt Severus stiffen slightly. “I… I cannot,” he said. “I suppose it is a layer of respect which prevents feelings of familiarity, which is the last thing I want associated with him. My whole life changed when I came to myself and Dumbledore pulled me back to the right side… of everything. I never wish to associate myself with him again.” He paused, and added in a much softer voice, “Even as a spy.” Harry pulled his face away, so that he could look into his lover’s face. “Are you still spying?” he asked directly. Severus shook his head a bit. “Only when I must.” “And how often must you?” He shook his head again, pressing a kiss into Harry’s hair. “Harry. I cannot tell you. Any time is too much.” “I would go with you, if I could,” said Harry, offering, and already knowing the offer would be turned down. “Dumbledore would never let you,” said Severus with a smile. “I don’t think I would, either.” “Why not?” Harry asked, not afraid of the answer. They both knew what fate had in store for him, that neither of them questioned his ability to defeat Voldemort. But he was curious. “Because I love you,” whispered Severus. “I would prevent anything from happening to you, if I possibly could.” Harry felt his heart swell so that he thought it would burst. “I love you, too,” he whispered back. Severus used his one free arm to pull Harry’s face around so that their eyes could meet. “Do you really mean that?” he asked plainly. “Yes!” Harry said fervently. “I’ve known that for a while already… I didn’t want to say until I thought you felt that way, too.” “Really?” His deep, black eyes probed Harry’s with intensity. Harry opened his eyes and mind wide, to let the other read his heart freely. “Oh, Harry…” “Shh,” Harry murmured, and placed his mouth on Severus’. They kissed for a long moment, and when they broke away, there was a sheen of tears over the dark eyes. “Shh,” Harry whispered again. “It’s okay. I love you.” “I don’t want to hurt you.” “You won’t. I know you won’t. I’m not afraid of our future,” Harry said firmly. “I’m excited about it. There’s nothing I want more than to pass my seventh year, win the war, and live happily ever after. With you.” Severus searched Harry’s face wonderingly. “You may change your mind. You may get tired of me.” “I believe in us,” said Harry simply. “I can’t simply ‘get tired’ of you. I’m in love with you, you git.” Severus finally smiled, the tears still evident in his eyes. “Oh, Harry, I love you, too. Do you understand about not coming with me?” Harry nodded. “Yes. I don’t like it, but I’ll accept it.” “Thank you,” said Severus, relieved. “Severus?” “Yes?” “Stay with me tonight.” There was a pause. “What about Ron?” Severus asked, knowing that Ron shared the room. “What about Ron? He can go somewhere else.” “Where? Hermione’s room, you mean?” “Mm, not there. Ginny sleeps there, too. I don’t know. It’s a big house. He’ll manage. And he’ll understand.” “Will he understand you not being around every evening at school this year?” Severus asked, frownly slightly. “Of course he will. Besides, he’s Head Boy, plus he’s dating the Head Girl. They’ll be busy enough on their own. And Hermione’s taking something like five hundred NEWT’s this year, so she’ll be plenty busy. He’ll be relishing all the time he can get with her.” He paused again. “Severus.” “Yes?” “Could I stay with you some nights, once we’re back at school?” “Of course, if we’re very discreet.” “I have an invisibility cloak,” Harry reminded him. “It’ll be fine.” “Alright, then.” “So, are you going to stay tonight?” A pause. Then, “Yes,” Severus said, holding the precious young man close. “Yes, I’ll stay.” Neither of them noticed that Ron never did come back. * Two days later, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all standing in the King’s Cross station, alternately loading their stuff onto the school train, receiving advice from Mrs. Weasley, finding seats, and trying to get away. Mrs. Weasley pulled Harry aside at the last minute. “Is everything alright these days, Harry?” she asked, holding him by the shoulders. “What? Yes, everything,” he answered, a bit confused by her question. “It’s just that you’ve been… different,” she said. “Perhaps a bit secretive?” Harry smiled at her, for once not bothered by her interference. “It’s okay, Mrs. Weasley,” he assured her. “I do have a bit of a secret, but it’s nothing bad – just the opposite, actually, but for now, it has to stay a secret. Dumbledore’s wishes,” he added. “But I’m perfectly alright.” “Alright, then, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley, sounding relieved. “Off you go, now.” The others were already aboard. Harry found Ginny and sat down with her. Shortly, Neville and Dean joined them, and shortly after that, Seamus. “Together again, boys!” Seamus exclaimed. “One last year,” Harry agreed. “What am I going to do without all you next year?” Ginny moaned, sitting very close to Neville. And so it went. The train arrived at Hogwarts right on time, and the school year began. During the Feast that evening, Harry looked over at the staff table at Severus, who was chatting with Professor McGonagall more animatedly than Harry had ever seen him. He was completely forgetting to throw resentful looks at Remus, sitting further down the table, having been re-appointed Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher the year before. Seeming to feel Harry’s gaze, he turned suddenly and caught Harry’s eye, and gave him a quick, tender smile before turning back to McGonagall. Harry resumed his conversation with Dean and Ron, but Hermione kicked him under the table, and mouthed, “I saw that.” Harry grinned and shrugged, blushing. She leaned closer, speaking quietly. “You’re really happy with him, aren’t you, Harry?” Harry nodded, not able to suppress his smile. “You’re positively glowing,” she told him knowingly. Then, in a more serious tone, she asked, “Do you love him?” Harry glanced around at the others at their table. No one was listening. “Yes,” he answered simply. “And he loves you?” “Yes,” said Harry again, smiling. “He does.” Hermione beamed. “That’s great, Harry, I really am happy for you.” “So am I,” Harry said honestly. “I’ve never been so happy before. And I don’t think he has, either.” His eyes drifted back to Severus, who was still talking to McGonagall. “I know he hasn’t,” he said softly. Hermione’s eyes had tears in them. “You deserve it, Harry,” she said. “Yeah, well, what about you and Mr. Head Boy, there?” Harry asked, grinning. Hermione blushed. “What about us?” “Is it – are you two in love, too? Please say yes,” he added, “I already have a date for your wedding, you know,” he said cheekily. Hermione laughed out loud. “Harry! I don’t think we’re thinking so far in advance yet, but yes, we’re in love.” Harry picked up his knife and fork and began moving around the leftover carrots on his plate. “Well, all I can say is, good thing you have your own room,” he said with raised eyebrows. Hermione threw a pea at him. “You prat,” she said. “And what about you, Mr. Sleepover?” Harry grinned. “I don’t need my own room. He’s got one.” They burst out laughing together, causing their friends to look at them. “What’s so funny?” Ron asked, giving Hermione that special look that always made Harry roll his eyes, though he secretly understood it perfectly – having given it himself. “Nothing, love,” she said, patting him reassuringly. “Go back to your silly quidditch talk.” * The first seventh-year Potions class took place on Tuesday. Monday night, after the Feast, Snape had called Harry aside, very softly. Both of them had lingered in the Great Hall until the last possible minute, and Severus very briefly pulled Harry into a quick hug and told him how to get into – and locate – his apartment. They parted quickly, before anyone could notice them, and went their separate ways, at least for the first hour of being back. Then Harry had slipped out of the Gryffindor common room and made his silent way down to the dungeons to Snape’s surprisingly well-appointed rooms. He had stayed until midnight, then gone back upstairs, where his dorm-mates were just getting ready for bed. He claimed a visit to Hagrid’s to explain his absence. Now, he, Ron and Hermione entered the familiar dungeon and sat down in their usual seats. Snape came out of the back room, robes billowing as usual. “Good day,” he said curtly, giving the class a cursory glance, eyes lingering only momentarily on Harry. “Good day, sir,” the class mumbled back. He rarely greeted them, so this was a surprise. Snape then launched into a short talk about what seventh-year Potions would entail, and talked about the NEWT as well. Today they would be starting by making Veritaserum, which the Ministry was currently low on. “If you are successful, this will be of assistance,” Snape said. “If not…” and he looked straight at Harry, who fought the urge to smirk back, “you will have completely wasted several valuable ingredients. Everything you need is here – ” he indicated the store cupboard, “ – and here.” He indicated the blackboard, where the instructions appeared at a wave of his wand. “You have ninety minutes.” Ron leaned over and muttered to Harry, “I can’t believe you fuck him. No offense.” Harry smiled to himself. Ron was Ron, and always would be. “It’s clearly a matter of opinion,” he murmured back. “Just don’t go calling him a greasy old bat, d’you understand me?” He felt Ron laugh, and answer, “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Malfoy turned in his seat to shoot a smirk at Harry, who simply nodded and smiled back, thoroughly confusing the Slytherin. As the class progressed, Harry worked carefully at his potion, occasionally snagging Hermione’s attention to see how he was doing. It seemed to be going well. At one point, Snape came sweeping over to their corner, peered in his cauldron, and drawled, “Potter, wonders will never cease. This potion is actually acceptable. Malfoy. Come here and tell me how Potter’s potion differs from yours.” Malfoy reluctantly got up and came over. Harry had noticed that he seemed quite diminished, somehow, as neither of his cronies had been accepted into seventh-year Potions. He looked into Harry’s cauldron. “Uh, Potter’s potion is clear, and mine’s kind of whitish, sir,” he said to Snape, not looking at Harry. “That is correct, Mr. Malfoy. What have you omitted?” Malfoy looked stunned. His potion was the wrong colour and not Potter’s? “Er – ” he said, stalling, looking at the blackboard. “Tell him, Potter,” said Snape, giving Harry a secret, special look. He scanned the board. “Did he forget the unicorn tail-hair?” he asked, hoping very much not give Severus a reason to have to fake anger. Or not fake it! The relief was evident, at least to him, in Severus’ voice. “Yes, Mr. Potter, that is correct. Mr. Malfoy. If you add the tail-hair now, your potion can still be saved.” He swept back to the front of the room, but not before he’d given Harry’s shoulder a squeeze. Ron gave Harry a Look, and rolled his eyes, though smiling. It looked like things had changed, indeed. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize Chapter 8: Night, at last That night, Harry lay still, still breathing hard, in Severus’ arms. The other man’s breathing was also still heavy against the back of Harry’s neck. They lay in contented silence for a few minutes. Then Harry felt Severus pull himself out of Harry and pull Harry around to face him. Harry immediately moved in close, closed his eyes and laid his mouth against his lover’s. “Thank you,” he murmured. Severus laughed softly. “No, thank you,” he said. “That was incredible.” “Well, it was your turn.” Harry reminded him. “And besides, it was pretty incredible for me, too. I like it both ways.” “As do I,” Severus said. His long fingers moved gently against Harry’s bare back, tracing little patterns. “Thank you for not making me angry in Potions today.” Harry laughed, looking Severus in the eye. “Would you have given me a detention if I’d gotten it wrong?” “I’m still your teacher, Harry. I would have had to.” “Especially,” Harry pointed out, “as you’ve hardly been fair to me during class in the past, and if you hadn’t given me a detention, everyone would have wondered.” “Caught in my own web,” said Severus sardonically, though the soft movements of his hands belied the cynicism in his voice. “Forced to be nice to the Boy Who Lived at last. How would I ever live it down before the rest of the Gryffindors?” Harry grinned. “Don’t call me that,” was all he said. “What?” Severus’ eyebrows went up. “The Boy Who Lived?” “Yeah, that. I hate that.” “Why do you hate it?” Harry scowled. “Don’t you ever think that, if you were me, you’d get tired of being Saint Potter, as that bastard Malfoy always calls me? Dumbledore’s Golden Boy? Saviour of the World? Any of that?” Snape fell silent, considering. “I never thought about that,” he said at last. “What bothers you about all of it?” “Everything!” said Harry. “All the unwanted attention, which is usually negative attention anyway – everyone always thinks I’m crazy, or showing off, or full of myself – don’t deny it, you thought that, too – and all the expectations. I still haven’t quite gotten used to the whole Prophecy thing yet. I have no idea if I can really defeat Voldemort or not, and if I do, then great, but then I’ll have more attention than ever. And if not,” he added, more softly, “then I guess I won’t have to worry about it.” Severus was quiet, but drew Harry closer, close enough that their breaths mingled with each other’s. He had gotten used to Harry saying Voldemort’s name, though it still made him uncomfortable, so he didn’t comment. Besides, there were more important things to discuss. “But you know you’re not showing off, or looking for the attention. Your friends know. Dumbledore knows. I know. Isn’t that good enough?” Harry pondered this. “Well, in the end, yes, but it’s still obnoxious.” He told Severus the story of Seamus, back in fifth year, when Seamus wouldn’t speak to him because he thought Harry was mad, or lying about Voldemort’s return. Severus had never known this. “Is this why you’re always so full of anger?” he asked softly, tangling his fingers in Harry’s hair. A pause. “Am I always angry?” Harry wondered. Severus nodded. “Not lately, but before this, all the time I’ve known you, you’ve positively radiated anger, all the time. I provoked it, I know. I’m sorry. But I get the sense that it’s always there anyway, not just directed at me.” Harry thought about this. “I guess you’re right,” he said. “I am always about to explode. It must be the stress of everything, or something. I do blow up at Ron and Hermione a lot. Even Mrs. Weasley gets on my nerves, and she’s been like a second mother to me. Well,” he added bitterly, “more like a first mother, I guess, since I never really got to know my own.” Severus felt a throb of pity. “And I was always bad-mouthing your father,” he said remorsefully. “When you didn’t even really know who he was.” His voice was sad. “It’s alright now,” Harry said quickly. “I’ve had the chance to sort of see the man he was, and my mum, too. I think I know who they were and how that’s helped make me who I am now. But in the end, you have to be your own person, despite your upbringing, right?” Severus was silent. “You’re right,” he said finally. “You’re completely right. Did you know that I’ve always, deep down, wished that I were not Severus Snape, just as you’ve wished not to be Harry Potter?” “Why?” Harry asked, feeling that he could probably guess, but wanting to hear it. He was too close to be able to see Severus’ face, but he felt him move restlessly beside him. “Come on, Harry. I have been vastly unpopular my entire life. In my own family, here at Hogwarts, within the Death Eaters, back here at Hogwarts. Most of the Order of the Phoenix don’t even like me. I don’t like myself much of the time. Did you know that until I found you this summer, I believed myself incapable of loving another person, in any respect? I certainly did not believe that I could actually fall in love with another person.” “But you knew you were gay,” Harry said, somewhat timidly. He didn’t want to frighten Severus off by making him feel he’d said too much. “I knew that I was attracted to men,” Severus corrected, “or would be, if I let myself think thoughts even remotely close to the subject of… sexuality.” “Did you ever have a crush on a man?” Harry asked. He was so close to Severus that his lips were nearly touching his collarbone. Severus was silent for a moment. Then, “No. I don’t believe so. Or at least, I don’t believe I realized it at the time. Now, though, I think that I perhaps did have a crush during school, but that it went away on its own and that I’ve only realized it now, much later.” Hardly breathing, Harry asked, “Who was it?” Silence. “I don’t want to say,” Severus said stiffly. Harry closed the last possible inches of space between them, but pulled his face back. He placed soft kisses all over Severus’ face, his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, his neck, his eyelids, his mouth. Severus fell back onto his back and Harry followed, rolling on top of him. Their arms and legs were tangled. Harry kissed him again, tenderly, and said, “There’s nothing you could tell me that would ever make me think less of you, Severus. Please trust me.” “I do trust you,” Severus said, his black eyes glimmering in the pale light of the stars coming in the window. “I just find it – embarrassing.” “Come on,” Harry urged. “I won’t embarrass you with it.” “I know you won’t,” Severus said. “Alright. It was Sirius. Only during school. After he went to Azkaban, it just went away on its own. And I was a Death Eater by then, I had no time or energy to spend thinking about such things. I was doing my best to hide the fact that I was gay from Lucius Malfoy, who certainly would have… taken advantage of the fact.” Although Harry was still attempting to digest the first bit, he asked, “Lucius is gay?” “I do not know,” Severus said bitterly. “But he was known for… being chosen by the Dark Lord to punish other men with rape at times. At the very least, he certainly would have made the information public knowledge.” Harry kissed him. “What a bastard. No wonder Draco is the way he is. I understand about Sirius, he looked like a handsome man when he was younger. I understand all the animosity, at least on your side, too. Do you think Sirius knew?” “No,” Severus said immediately. “I doubt that very much. I am fairly good at hiding my feelings, or so I prefer to believe.” “You are,” Harry assured him. He paused, thinking over what Severus had said before. “I don’t think people dislike you as much as you seem to think. I mean, all the Slytherins like you – ”“Only because, as you yourself have said, I favour them.” “So what? And McGonagall, Dumbledore and Flitwick all seem to like you just fine. And Sprout, you and she always collaborate on potion ingredients and stuff. And now Ron and Hermione like you, too.” Harry watched Severus’ face, hoping he wasn’t pushing his luck. “And I like you,” he added cheekily, moving in a way that he hoped would prove his point. Severus laughed suddenly, warmly. “You little – !” he said, rolling them both over so that he was now looming over Harry. “It’s a good thing,” he added, still laughing. “Don’t I know it!” said Harry, doing the same thing, grinding his bare pelvis against the other man’s. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say doing that is definitely detention-worthy,” growled Severus, responding to the movement in his own way. His pale hands grasped Harry’s legs, raising them, allowing him entrance again. Harry’s erection rubbed along Severus’ belly, and the boy moaned softly. “Severus,” he moaned, “you’re going to make the Boy Who Lived die of longing yet.” He pushed him closer to Severus, feeling the older man move more deeply inside him. “No,” Severus murmured back, though his voice sounded raw from desire, “I’m going to make you really live.” And after that, there was no need for more words. In the grey light of early dawn, Harry got up, dressed, whispered a farewell and crept upstairs to Gryffindor Tower in his invisibility cloak and went to sleep for a few hours. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: These folks belong to Joanne K., still Chapter 9: Being a student again At breakfast the next day, Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly. Ron kicked him under the table. “What?” he asked, trying not to sound irritable. It was hardly Ron’s fault that he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. Ron smirked. “Sleepy, are we?” “A bit,” Harry admitted. “You also haven’t taken a bite in about five minutes,” Ron said. It was Harry’s turn to smirk. “I had no idea I was so fascinating to watch,” he shot. He picked up his fork and took a bite of scrambled eggs. When he looked up again, Ron was still watching him. “What?” he asked again, through his mouthful. “I was just wondering… what it’s like, dating a teacher,” Ron said, shrugging. “I mean, doesn’t it feel weird, now that you’re back here and everything, and taking lessons from him and everything?” Harry took his time answering, pushing the same scrambled eggs around on his plate. He was never really hungry when he was tired. “I guess I just don’t really think of myself as much of a student any more,” he said, still thinking about his answer. “I don’t mean that I think I’m done learning or anything, but I’m more concerned with the war, and the Order, and what’s going to happen after this than things like NEWT’s and stuff.” “What are you planning to do after this?” Ron asked, sounding a bit awkward. Harry looked at him. “The same thing as before, Ron. Hopefully kill Voldemort, then go into Auror training and all that. Same as you, minus the killing bit.” “No, I meant…” Ron blushed, glancing at the staff table, “you and Snape.” “What do you mean?” Harry, too, looked over at the staff table, where he saw Severus looking even paler than usual (probably because he was tired) but talking quite animatedly with Professor Sprout. She was holding her hands wide apart, as though describing a very large plant of some sort, and Severus was looking interested, head tilted sideways and commenting on her description. “I mean, do you expect you’ll keep seeing him, and that?” Ron asked directly. Without taking his eyes from the staff table and the figure of his lover, Harry smiled dreamily. “I hope so,” was all he said. He turned back to face his best friend. “Okay? Does that answer your question? I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen; I don’t even know if I’ll live through this year. But if there’s some future to be had, I’d like Severus to be a part of it.” “Would you marry him?” Ron’s curiosity got the better of his reluctance to hear details. “I don’t know yet. Are you planning to marry Hermione?” Harry asked pointedly, making his friend blush again. “I don’t know yet, either,” Ron said, conceding the point. He looked at Harry very seriously. “You must really have strong feelings for him.” “I love him,” Harry said simply. “Okay?” “It doesn’t need to be okay with me for it to happen.” “I know that.” “But it is.” Harry gave Ron an incredulous look. “Do you mean that, mate?” he asked. “I do,” Ron said resolutely. “I just want you to know that, alright? I’m a hundred percent behind you. I’m glad you’ve found someone who makes you so happy. But you’re still going to hang with Hermione and me, right?” “Of course,” Harry said in surprise. “If I’m not in your way or anything.” Ron threw a bit of bread at him. “You prat,” he said. “You’ll never be in the way of us.” “Well, honestly,” said Harry. “I mean, unless the ‘Golden Trio’ becomes a threesome in earnest, you guys’ll need space for your own relationship, too. I can’t always be tagging along.” “Harry,” said Ron firmly, “I promise you that there will always be space for you with us. It’ll all work.” Harry felt a warm rush of gratitude toward his friend at these words. He had worried about this very thing for some time now. “Can I ask you something?” he asked. “Shoot.”“When we’re done school and stuff,” Harry said, choosing his words carefully, “will you – will you be more comfortable around Severus?” Ron took a long drink of orange juice. “Well, mate, I can honestly tell you that I’ll try. I mean, I never thought I’d even be able to see him as being human enough to have a relationship with anyone, never mind my best mate. If he’s going to end up practically my brother-in-law, I guess I’ll have to try even harder.” Harry smiled. “Will you try calling him by his first name?” Ron looked dubious. “Are you sure he wouldn’t take my head off?” “If we’re finished school, I’m quite positive that it would make him really happy. He thinks no one likes him,” Harry said, then added quickly, “ – and don’t say that no one does, because people do, more than either he or they think.” Ron grinned, biting his tongue. “Okay, okay,” he said. “Sure. I’ll try. Just warn him or something before that happens, okay?” Harry grinned back. “Sure. Come on, mate, we’ve got Herbology in ten minutes.” And with that, he grabbed his bag and swung himself up from his seat. He looked quickly back at the staff table and received the briefest of sweet looks from the man he loved. The glow of it, plus his positive conversation with Ron, kept him warm all morning. * * Herbology proved to be a very interesting lesson. Harry had the chance to discover just what Professor Sprout had been going on about at breakfast, as she showed them the enormous Bertie Botts bean sprouts she had managed to germinate. The seeds alone were about the length of Harry’s arm, and they’d already sprouted thick, green tendils, which were extremely curly and visibly growing. Harry looked around at his classmates, wondering if any of them had also missed the fact that Every Flavour Beans came from an actual plant, unlike muggle sweets. Dean, Neville and Ron also looked quite incredulous, but it was hard to tell if it was just at the size of the beans or the other thing. The lesson ended up just measuring the pods and sprouts for Professor Sprout, who bragged that she had been secretly trying to breed the species extra-large for some time. If she was successful, Every Flavour Beans would now come in a larger size as well as the regular size. At one point, Hermione (naturally) put up her hand. “Yes, Ms. Granger?” Sprout beamed in Hermione’s direction. “I was just wondering,” Hermione said, “whether you’ve also tried altering the flavours at all, or adding any new ones, or anything else to modify the plants besides the size.” “Oh, no,” the flyaway-haired professor assured her. “For one thing, you can’t add flavours; they already come in every flavour. And there’s a peculiar bit of magic in them that causes them to seek out every flavour on the planet; it would be very difficult to take individual flavours away. No, it’s just the size I’ve tampered with.” Ron looked at Harry. “Did you know they came from plants?” he asked in a low voice, trying avoid Hermione hearing him. Harry felt relieved. “No,” he muttered back. “Muggle sweets are all man-made. I had no idea.” “Me neither, mate. Don’t tell `Mione.” Ron glanced quickly at his girlfriend, now magically measuring the pod in front of her. Harry grinned. “Course not,” he said. He spent the rest of the lesson measuring pods and charting tendril growth speeds with Ron. In the back of his mind, he was thinking about how unrelated this was to the bigger things in life, such as the war, Voldemort, his personal growth as a wizard in terms of learning to defeat Voldemort. But it was very pleasant to just play at being a normal student for a while. Although Harry still disliked actually brewing potions, Potions class was sure to be less of a nightmare than before, obviously – he was looking forward to every minute he was allowed to be near Severus. And Defense Against the Dark Arts was directly related to the war, as was Charms. Harry decided to do his best to relax and be as normal as possible, enjoy his time with his friends and Severus, and worry about Voldemort when the time came. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing at all – except this overactive imagination of mine Chapter 10: Revelations in Potions The Gryffindors had Potions after lunch, along with the few Slytherins who had kept up with it. Snape announced that they would be working in pairs, and announced that they had to partner someone from the opposite House. Harry was staring dismally around the dungeon, trying to think of someone to go with. Hermione had already taken her cauldron and gone over to sit with a Slytherin girl whose name Harry had never known (she was very quiet), and Ron had heaved a great sigh and gone to sit with Blaise Zabini. As Harry brooded, Malfoy sighed, got up and moved his stuff over to the table where Harry was now sitting alone. “Looks like it’s you and me, Potter,” he sighed. Harry gave him a disgruntled look. “What?” “There’s no one else left,” Malfoy said simply. “We have to work together. Believe me, you’re not my first choice, either. If I’d had my way I’d be working with the Mudblood.” “Don’t call her that!” Harry snapped. Malfoy shrugged. “Fine, have it your way. Come on, we have to get the ingredients.” And with that, he turned and began walking to the storage cabinet. Harry waited a moment, sighed, then followed the sleek, blond head. Severus caught his eye as he came forward and gave a slight smile. Harry looked pointedly at Malfoy and scowled. “He’s not hurting you, so far,” Severus mouthed. Harry shrugged. Severus touched his arm as he passed, and Harry paused to lean into it a little, to show that he wasn’t mad at Severus. Then he moved off quickly, not wanting to make a public display, to join Malfoy at the cupboard. The Slytherin was calmly, quietly gathering ingredients. Harry reached in to get some powdered sunflower petals, Malfoy said, “Don’t. I already have some. Actually, I think I have everything.” Harry looked at the load in Malfoy’s arms. “You don’t have any sunflower petals.” He sounded confused. “I mean, I have some of my own,” Malfoy said quietly. “I have a lot of extra ingredients.” “Oh,” said Harry. “Well – ” he could feel Severus’ eyes on him and Malfoy – “do you – do you want some help carrying that stuff, then?” Malfoy considered. “Carry the dragon blood,” he said. “I’m going to drop it.” Harry took it from him and followed him back to their seat. That was strange, he mused. When was the last time that he and Malfoy had exchanged a civil conversation? They sat down. Malfoy put some water in his cauldron, pushing Harry’s aside. They quietly made their assigned potion together and nothing bad happened. Harry could hardly believe it. He didn’t really want to be petty in front of Severus, and Malfoy wasn’t provoking him at all, so he had no need to be mean himself. “Malfoy,” he said after a bit. “What’s gotten into you? You’ve hardly insulted me at all for the past forty minutes.” Malfoy stirred the potion calmly, pausing to squint at the instructions on the board. “Oops, other way now,” he said. “Well, Potter, I just figure that you’re actually adequate at potion-making now, and I don’t want you wrecking it in your wrath, as I’m being marked for it, too.” Harry smiled grimly. “So that’s it. I see.” He looked at the board, too. “Should I put the newt eggs in now?” Malfoy nodded. “You’re just generally quieter, too, though,” Harry pressed. “You just seem different.” Malfoy looked up quickly. “Maybe I am different, Potter. Ever think of that?” “No,” Harry said truthfully. “Well, maybe you should. And besides, you smiled at me yesterday in this class yourself.” Harry remembered. “Freaked you out, didn’t it?” “It was strange,” Malfoy admitted. He paused. “I also got told to stop being such a jerk. Don’t ask from who, because I’m not going to tell you.” Harry looked at the potion. “Hey. D’you think it’s ready?” Malfoy looked at it, too. “Yes.” He extinguished the fire beneath the cauldron and quickly, neatly ladled a scoop of it into a vial without spilling any. He was good, Harry realized. Not such a bad partner to have, after all. “Here.” Malfoy handed Harry the vial. “Hand it in.” “Okay.” Harry took it from the other unquestioningly, which seemed to surprise the Slytherin. He went up to the front and set it on Severus’ desk. Severus surveyed it (as it was the only one there yet) and gave Harry a secret smile and a small nod. Harry went back to his seat. “The rest of you should also be handing in your samples at this time,” Snape called out. “Any further brewing and they will be ruined. Ten points to both Slytherin and Gryffindor for Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter for handing theirs in first.” “But sir,” Hermione’s voice sounded somewhere behind Harry, “we still have thirty minutes in the lesson!” “I know that, Ms. Granger. Hand in your potions and I will explain what will we be doing for the remaining half hour.” Slowly, all the other students made their way to the front of the dungeon, clutching variously-coloured potions in vials. Harry noted that the only one the same light-green colour as his and Malfoy’s was Hermione and the Slytherin girl’s. “Now.” Snape’s voice got everyone’s attention as silence fell in the room. “It is against the law to submit Veritaserum to the Ministry without testing it first, and as I do not particularly care to test it on myself, you will be testing the batch you made yesterday on one another. Same partners. Come to the front to collect your own samples.” Isn’t this just peachy, thought Harry. Having to go with Malfoy for this. I just hope he doesn’t have wind of me and Severus. He moved up in the queue and collected his Veritaserum. Malfoy had gotten there before him and was already sitting at their table, looking, as Harry noticed with surprise, not smug, but actually rather nervous. Harry suddenly remembered that they were both being tested, not just himself, and felt a little better. “You will question each other one at a time,” Snape instructed. “You will conjure yourselves glasses of water, add only one drop of Veritaserum, and record the results. It will not be necessary to record your partners’ answers, just the results. You are all in seventh year and I expect you to be mature about handling any sensitive information you come across, and to be discreet. Anything which is revealed under the influence of the potion must stay within this room. I will be most… displeased, should I find that any of you are taking advantage of anyone else’s personal information. Is that clear?” Silence. “Good. The effects of a single drop of the potion should last no longer than five minutes. Begin.” Harry waved his wand and a cut-glass tumbler of water appeared. He looked at Malfoy. Malfoy had conjured a tall, glass flute of water and was looking expectantly at him. Harry uncorked his Veritaserum and added a single drop to Malfoy’s water. Malfoy looked apprehensive. He raised the flute to his thin, pointed face and suddenly stopped. “Potter,” he said, sounding very nervous. “You heard Snape. Please be… kind.” Harry nodded, feeling very serious. Malfoy took a sip, then another. “What is your name?” Harry asked, testing. “Draco Lucius Malfoy,” said the Slytherin immediately. “Favourite colour?” Malfoy’s eyes rolled at the question, but said immediately, “Silver.” Harry paused. “Who told you to stop being mean to me?” he asked, very softly. “Severus Snape.” “What is your relationship to Severus Snape?” Harry asked. “He is my Head of House and godfather.” Harry was surprised by this. “Has he always been your godfather?” “Yes.” “Does he get along with your father?” “No. My father thinks that they are still friends, but it is not the case. He does not know that Snape spies for Dumbledore.” Harry digested this. Then, “What happened to you over the summer, that you’ve changed?” Malfoy’s face was unusually soft and sad. “I told my father that I was not certain that I wanted to receive the Dark Mark after graduation in spring. He was very angry. He has threatened to disown me.” “Why would you refuse the Mark?” Harry’s curiosity pressed him; he wanted answers before the potion wore off. “I am not certain where I stand on the war. I suspect that I will turn to Dumbledore and Snape for guidance. I suspect that I will end up on your side.” Malfoy looked at Harry, eyes bright. “You must not repeat any of this, to anyone.” Harry looked at him. “Has the potion worn off?” “I don’t know,” said Malfoy. “Tell me a lie.” Malfoy’s customary sneer returned. “You’re a pureblood,” he said. “Okay, it has, then,” said Harry, knowing full well that Malfoy knew he was only half-blood. Malfoy leaned forward an added a drop of his own potion to Harry’s water. Harry hesitated momentarily, then said, “Same deal, Malfoy. Be kind, and keep your mouth closed after this.” Malfoy nodded, and Harry drank about half the water in his glass. “Thirsty, Potter?” Malfoy smirked. “Yes, I was,” answered Harry immediately. “Not any more.” “State your full name.” “Harry James Potter.” “Legal guardians?” “None. I am of age.” “Who were your legal guardians?” “Vernon and Petunia Dursley.” “Why were they your guardians?” “Petunia Dursley was my mother’s sister. Dumbledore made her take me in after my parents were killed.” Malfoy winced. He obviously hadn’t meant to make Harry talk about anything like that. In a different tone of voice, he asked, “What do you expect will happen during the war?” Harry answered in a flat tone (which generally meant the victim did not want to answer), “A prophecy was made that either I or Voldemort will kill one another. I am the only living wizard with the power to destroy him. One of us will die.” Malfoy sat back, in shock. This he had not known, and he was positive that his father did not know, either. He realized that it was imperative that the Death Eaters never know, or Harry’s life would really be in danger. Unless the Dark Lord was the only one who could kill him, too. He considered his next question. “Do you think you will win?” “I do not know. I cannot guess the future.” “Does anyone else know about the Prophecy?” “Only Dumbledore, Severus, Ron and Hermione.” Malfoy was surprised to hear Harry call Snape by his first name. He’d always been under the impression that Potter hated Snape, and vice-versa. “Severus?” he asked. Harry was silent, mustering his entire will not to say anything unless he had to. “Ask me something else,” he said. Malfoy pondered. “Are Weasley and Granger dating?” he asked, smiling at the question. “Yes.” “Are you jealous, Potter?” “No,” said Harry automatically. “I was initially afraid that they would leave me out, but they’re not. I’m not jealous.” “Have you got a crush of your own, Potter?” Malfoy’s eyes glinted. Harry paused. Miraculously, though, the potion seemed to be wearing off. “No,” he made himself say, and it was only a little bit difficult. “That was an unfair question, Malfoy,” he added, feeling himself more in control than ever. “I didn’t ask you anything like that.” Malfoy shrugged. “Couldn’t resist. Sorry, Potter.” Harry gave him a hard look. “Malfoy, look. I don’t care how much you hate me, but you absolutely must not tell anyone about the Prophecy, do you hear? It could change the entire course of the war.” Malfoy looked a bit taken aback. “I won’t, Potter, surely you know that. Obviously I won’t tell my father. And to be honest, I’m not really very good friends with any of the Slytherins any more, so I wouldn’t tell them, anyway.” It was Harry’s turn to look surprised. “Okay. Sorry.” He paused. “I didn’t know… about you and your father, or about the other Slytherins.” He was quite surprised that Malfoy had said this without even being under the potion’s influence. Malfoy looked away. “I know you didn’t know. You do now. Keep your mouth shut about it.” “I will. You, too.” “Alright.” Harry hesitated, glancing over at Ron. “Malfoy,” he began awkwardly. “I don’t need your pity, Potter!” Malfoy snapped suddenly, silvery eyes flashing. “That’s not what I was going to say,” said Harry, forcibly repressing his anger. “I was just going to say, if you want, you can hang out with Ron and Hermione and me sometime. You don’t have to. But if you’re thinking of fighting on our side, anyway, I think we can put the old feud aside. Just if you want some new friends, that’s all.” Malfoy went quiet, fiddling with something on his robes. Finally, he looked up. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll think about it. We have to write down our observations.” He pulled out some parchment and a quill and turned away from Harry. Harry watched him for a moment, then did the same. He was right, they had to hand in their results, and there were only five minutes left in the lesson. After handing in his parchment roll, Malfoy grabbed his things and hurried out without looking at Harry. The Gryffindors had a break now, anyway, so Harry lingered in the classroom, motioning Ron and Hermione to go on without him. Hermione gave him a knowing smile and pulled Ron out after her. Severus waited until everyone was gone, then sent a Sealing charm toward the door. He came over and sat down on the stool Malfoy had been sitting on. “How was that?” he asked Harry, smiling. Harry shot him a look. “Okay, actually,” he confessed. “I managed not to tell Malfoy about us.” Severus exhaled a sigh of relief. “Good for you,” he said. “It would have been okay if he had found out, I can control him to some extent, but it’s easier if he doesn’t know yet.” “Yet?” Harry asked curiously. Severus gave him a warm smile. “Yes, ‘yet’,” he said. “After the war, when we’re both out of danger, I know that I, at least, will want to be with you publicly.” Harry twined his fingers into Severus’ and smiled back. “I will, too,” he said. Then, “I didn’t know you were Malfoy’s godfather.” “I know you didn’t. I was going to tell you, but I thought it might be better to let you and him become a little less hostile first. I honestly didn’t expect you two to end up working together today. And I seriously thought about rearranging the partners before testing the Veritaserum, but in the end, it seems to have worked out alright.” “Actually, it wasn’t bad at all,” Harry mused. “He told me about his father, and this past summer and the war and stuff. I had no idea he’d ever even considered not becoming a Death Eater.” “I like to think I’ve had a positive influence on him,” Severus said dryly. “I ended up telling him about the Prophecy,” Harry said ruefully. “He did say he wouldn’t say anything to Lucius, but…” “I’ll mention it to him,” said Severus. Harry scooted his stool closer to Severus’, so that he could lean against him and wrap his arms around him. “He also told me that you told him to stop being such a jerk to me.” Severus looked both surprised and amused. “That was just this morning,” he said. “I was thinking about your animosity over the years, after something you said last night, and I was just thinking. I knew about his summer, and how close he is to making a commitment to fight on our side, so I thought it might be nice if you didn’t have that to deal with.” “Thanks,” said Harry simply. “He respects you a lot, you know. Much more than his father.” “I know,” said Severus, just as simply. “Another good reason for you and him to get along, wouldn’t you say?” Harry turned his face up to be kissed. Severus complied, kissing him slowly and tenderly. After, he said gently, “Harry, I have to mark these potions before I have the third years in forty-five minutes.” “Okay,” said Harry, reluctantly leaving his lover’s embrace. “See you later?” “Yes, but let’s make it an early night, okay? I’m tired,” said Severus, smiling. “Me, too,” Harry admitted. “Okay. Right after dinner, then. I’ll be down.” “See you then.” Severus took Harry’s face in his hands, rubbed his thumbs over Harry’s cheeks. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, and kissed Harry’s forehead softly. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize Chapter 11: Memories Harry laid his warm palm against the doorwards of Severus’ apartments. A doorknob made from a single crystal appeared. He bent and laid his equally-warm lips against the cool crystal and waited for it to turn and admit him. When it had, Harry stepped over the threshold and into his lover’s waiting arms. Severus began to speak immediately, quietly. “There are few things I want to do more than to be able to eat dinner with you, at the same table, and to leave the Hall together, in the full sight of everyone.” Harry was startled by this sudden pronouncement, and didn’t reply. The older man went on. “I know this would never happen, even if it could. Perhaps I am too much of a recluse anyway, to be so open about something. But you know, Harry… you, being with you… it gives me great joy. And that is something which I never thought I would live to experience. Joy. Love.” Harry felt his heart swell to the bursting point. He hugged Severus fiercely and spoke into his chest. “I love you, Severus, I love you! My whole life is different now. I never even considered that it was possible to feel like this!” Severus put one hand on Harry’s cheek, hooking his thumb under the young man’s chin and turned his face up to his own. “I love you,” he said softly, and bent to kiss Harry, who threw himself wholly into the kiss, and the kiss became more important than anything. While it lasted, both men forget that there was anything but themselves, this moment, their love for one another. It was more important than the war, than school, than sex; all that mattered was this incredible feeling of oneness and joy that they shared. Finally, gasping for air, they broke apart, still gazing at one another incredulously. “Take me to bed,” Harry said, his voice thrumming with both emotion and desire. Severus smiled and pulled Harry to him. Harry jumped and wrapped both legs around Severus, who carried him into the bedroom. A little later, they lay in one another’s arms, sated, their breathing returning to normal, though both bodies still glistened with sweat. They had gotten into a habit of talking afterwards, long, lasting talks which were probably the foundation of their entire relationship. “Harry,” Severus murmured against his forehead. “Mmm-hmm?” Harry murmured back, not opening his eyes. “Tell me about Cho Chang.” Harry’s eyes flew open. “What?!” he exclaimed, startled. Where in Merlin’s name had that come from? Severus made an impatient movement with his head. “I saw, during your fifth year, in Occlumency lessons. You kissed her. Or rather, she kissed you. There was mistletoe. I don’t know where it happened.” Harry remembered all too well, remembered thinking that he’d blocked that particular memory from Severus. Obviously, he’d thought wrong. “That was a long time ago,” he said, stalling. Severus was silent, clearly waiting for a more adequate response. “It was nothing,” Harry said, quite truthfully. Well, it hadn’t been nothing at the time, but it certainly turned out to be nothing. “If it was nothing, why was she kissing you?” Severus asked, voice testy. “Well, I kind of liked her, and I guess she liked me, but it didn’t work out. Nothing in common aside from quidditch, plus she had a friend who ratted out the entire DA. And I’m gay, so there was no real attraction. Satisfied?” Harry knew he sounded a bit terse, but he couldn’t believe that Severus was jealous – at least he sounded jealous – of that. He was quiet. “I see,” he said in a calmer voice. He thought. “How,” he asked in a different voice, “did you rescue Sirius from the Dementors that night, at the end of your third year?” Harry wondered at this, a question about Sirius. As though sensing Harry’s concern, Severus quickly added, “It is the rescue I am concerned with, and your part in it, rather than the other subjects. I never did get to hear how you pulled that one off.” He paused, noticing that Harry had not yet begun to talk, and added stiffly, “Unless you would rather not talk about it.” Harry twisted his head about so that he could look into Severus’ eyes. “I just don’t like thinking about that night at all, if I can help it,” he said honestly. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you.” He considered. “I know,” he said. “Maybe I can just remember it clearly and you can use your legilimency skills to, I don’t know, see it, or experience it, or whatever.” He looked at Severus for his reaction. Severus’ dark eyes were wide. “Are you certain, Harry? I – I wouldn’t invade your privacy that way, not now, at least.” “Yeah, I’m sure,” Harry said. He focussed on the memory. The Shrieking Shack. Going back in time with the time-turner. Buckbeak. The werewolf, the rat, and the Dementors. “Okay, I’m ready,” he said, and looked trustingly, wide-eyed, into Severus’ eyes. “Legilimens,” Severus murmured, looking into Harry’s eyes before closing his own. Harry closed his, too, and slowly relived the scene for the man he loved. It finally came to a close as Harry re-witnessed himself and Hermione re-entering the hospital wing and Severus’ own shrieking fury at Sirius’ escape and his conviction that Harry had been behind it all. Harry smirked at his own memory when Dumbledore had said something about Harry and Hermione being in two places at once. The memory faded. Harry opened his eyes, to find Severus looking thoughtful. “So that’s how he managed not to lie about it,” he mused. “I knew it was you, Harry; it just had you stamped all over it. And so you weren’t Confunded after all. What a prat I was,” he added, looking chagrined. Harry smiled and brushed a lock of shining dark hair from Severus’ face. “Can I ask you something?” he asked. “You just did.” “Git,” Harry said playfully. “Go ahead.” Harry paused, not wanting to bring up painful subject matter, battling with his curiosity. “Why won’t Dumbledore let you teach Defense Against the Dark Arts?” He watched Severus closely. The other paused, too, moving restlessly. “I suppose it is two-fold. First, there is the simple reason that I am, whether I like it or not, the resident expert Potions Master in this part of the world. I have made several very useful inventions over the years.” “Like what?” Harry hadn’t meant to interrupt, but… “Pepper-Up Potion,” Severus began, “though I did not choose that ridiculous name for it, Veritaserum, the Draught of Peace, and the Wolfsbane Potion.” “You invented all of those?” Harry said, amazed. “All of them? Really?” “All of them,” Severus assured him, smiling. “That is one of the reasons that two of those potions are only taught here at Hogwarts; I have yet to make the recipes available to the rest of the wizarding world.” “That’s amazing!” Harry said, still blown away. “The other reason,” Severus continued, looking thoughtful again, and just a little bit bitter, “is that I am sure that Dumbledore would prefer I spend my time thinking less about the Dark Arts.” “But you’d be teaching defense, not the dark arts themselves,” Harry said. “I know. Perhaps it is also that he does not want me to dwell on that part of my personal history. I would be constantly forced to relive my experiences as a Death Eater and just after I left Voldemort. Dumbledore… prefers to remind me of the person I have tried to be since that time, rather than that time itself, I believe.” Severus’ voice sounded a bit stiff, but his arms around Harry were just as gentle, his hold as assured. Harry hesitated again. This would be the biggest question he would ask Severus. “Severus,” he said, and stopped. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to,” he said quietly.At this, Severus stirred. He propped himself up on one elbow, leaning over Harry as he lay on his back. “Harry,” he said. “I trust you. I trust you so much that it frightens me. I wasn’t trying to question you about Cho before; I was just curious about that particular memory. I trust you as I trust no one else, not even Dumbledore. I hope that doesn’t overwhelm you.” Harry attempted to absorb all of this. He felt like he was floating. He reached up to touch Severus’ face. “It’s not overwhelming, but it’s a lot to hear,” he said softly. “How could anyone trust me more than Dumbledore? Have I earned that much trust?” “It is not whether or not you have earned it,” Severus said obdurately. “It is not because I have chosen to. It is only because I love you and have no choice about loving you. I therefore have no choice about trusting you.” Harry smiled weakly, feeling the power of Severus’ words resonate in his very soul. “And you say you know so little about love,” he said wonderingly. “I think you understand it far better than most people.” Severus returned the caress, gently stroking the side of Harry’s face, a strange sort of smile on his lips. “Ask your question,” he said. “I will tell you anything that I possibly can.” Harry smiled again. “I was just wondering – what brought you back, to our side, I mean? What brought you back from Voldemort?” Severus didn’t even flinch. “I wondered if that might be your question,” he said, smiling gently. “It was Dumbledore. He alone knew the details of my childhood, my upbringing. My solitude. I was desperately unhappy as a Death Eater, far less happy than I was even at school. I thought I was beyond hope. Dumbledore simply came to me one night and showed me that I was not beyond redemption. He showed me just by talking, not by any trick or magical secret. I was open to hearing him, for once in my life, if only because I was so very unhappy. And lonely. Dumbledore told me that he’d always had faith in me, despite what a sorry boy I was during my seven years in school. That, more than anything else, affected me. I broke down. I had no faith in myself, but he had faith in me. It was almost more than I could bear.” Severus paused here. “Dumbledore made me bear it, showed me that I could go on from there as a different man. I… I have not been as different as I would have liked, but I have often felt since then that I lacked the power to change fully. My underlying loyalties are correct, but my… prickly exterior. Dumbledore seems to see past it,” Severus added, with a wry laugh, “but until you, I think he was the only one who really did. Everyone else just puts up with me.” Harry smiled. “You’re just not expendable,” he said, tracing the shape of Severus’ lips with one finger. Then he pulled the other down to his mouth. “I love you,” he whispered. “Thank you for telling me.” “I’ve never talked about it since then,” Severus said. “Does it make you feel vulnerable?” Severus considered. “A bit. But it’s alright, because it’s you.” He gathered Harry into his arms again. “And I’m glad you’ve happened to me, made me open up. It could only have been you, somehow.” Harry felt tears come into his eyes, and he rocked his lover back and forth. “I’m glad it was me,” was all he could say. “Oh, Severus, I’m so glad it was me.” They stayed that way for many moments, neither wanting the precious moment to end. Finally, Severus pulled back far enough to say, “Stay with me tonight. I don’t want you to go, after that.” Harry nodded. He knew, instinctively, that telling that particular story was, for Severus, far more intimate than any form of sex could ever be. And there was nothing in the world that could possibly induce Harry to leave at that particular juncture, anyway. “I wouldn’t leave if you made me,” he murmured incoherently. “Just as long as you wake me in time for class.” Harry felt Severus laugh, to his surprise, and pulled back to look at him, question marks written across his features. “It just seems ludicrous to me that we’re actually still teacher and student, technically.” Harry laughed, too, his breath creating a warm breeze on Severus’ neck. “I think that technically, Severus, we’re much more than that.” And so they fell asleep, the sound of each other’s low laughter in their ears, holding one another as though it were the last day of their lives. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize Chapter 12: The Choices of Master Draco (A/N: Yes, yes, I am aware that I stole that title from JRR Tolkien, God bless his resting soul. That’s why it’s FUNNY.) And so the days went by. The first weeks back at school became routine again. Harry found that he had much to do in terms of schoolwork, but by some miracle, he really was improving, and finding the work less difficult. Hermione was always on hand, but both Ron and Harry found that they needed her help less. The two Heads usually came to the Gryffindor common room in the evenings to do their homework and be with Harry, as before, and also to hang out with Dean, Seamus, Neville and Ginny. If it was too noisy, the three generally went back to the Head Student quarters to do their work. Harry was pleased to see that Ron was true to his word, and he never felt left out or excluded from Ron and Hermione’s company, and they often went out of their way to make him feel welcome in being with them. Dumbledore had started contacting other students who might be interested in joining the Order of the Phoenix upon graduation. If they were uninterested, or simply refused outright (which was rare, as the Headmaster’s judgement was very accurate), he simply erased the memory of the meeting. As Secret Keeper for the Order, it was his prerogative to invite new members. So far, all of their fellow seventh-year Gryffindors were planning to join the Order, including Parvati Patil and Lavendar Brown. There were also several Ravenclaws – all of the former DA members, plus a few more, and several Hufflepuffs. And all of the staff, including the elusive Professors Sinistra and Trelawney, as well as the obstruse Professor Vector. Flitwick, Sprout, McGonagall, Hagrid and Snape were givens. Harry fell into a routine. School, quidditch, homework, fun time. And the nights he spent with Severus. All of them. It was just a question of when or whether he would leave. Sometimes he went down to the dungeons right after dinner (usually when he didn’t have much homework, or on the weekend); other times he waited until his dorm-mates had gone to bed and crept out quietly. Harry found that he had been right in suggesting that, as a seventh year, people would questions his whereabouts less. Ron and Hermione were in their own quarters, anyway, and Dean, Seamus and Neville had their own agenda to concern themselves with – Neville primarily with Ginny (their on-again, off-again relationship was a puzzle no one but they seemed to understand), Dean with Parvati, and Seamus with whomever he seemed to be able to get his hands on. No one cared if Harry spent the odd night away from the dorm. For all they knew, he had fallen asleep over his homework in the common room. As a rule, they did not question one another about any flutterings of bed-hangings, or of eerie silences behind them clearly induced by silencing spells. It seemed that their partners in Potions class were permanent, at least for the rest of the term. Harry and Malfoy were continually paired together, as were his friends with their newfound Slytherin counterparts. Malfoy continued to be courteously polite to Harry, but retained an aloof edge, a slice of distance that was not coldness. But it was clear that the Slytherin was not interested in opening any further soul-searching dialogue. Harry took his lead from the other, refrained from referring to his own comment about Malfoy becoming friends with himself, Ron and Hermione, and bent his energies simply on creating the assigned potions. There were times when Harry could nearly feel Malfoy’s inner turmoil, his conflict. It practically radiated from the intense young man at times. Harry wondered which way he would go in the end, whether Malfoy would fulfill Severus’ trust in him, or cave to his father’s wishes. One afternoon, in the break between classes and dinner, Harry went to find Severus in his office. The door was open, though the corridor was empty. A flash of silver-blond told him who Severus’ visitor was. “I don’t know what to tell you, Draco,” he heard Severus’ voice say seriously. “You must make your own decisions. You must do what you feel is right.” “I know what’s right,” came Malfoy’s voice intensely. “It’s not that simple. If I refuse the Mark, my father will disown me. They’ll kill me, you know they will.” There was an eloquent silence. “That would indeed be the result of making that decision, Draco. If you choose to fight with us, you will become a marked man. But you are very talented. If you chose that way, you would be of great help to our cause. And you would not be alone.” “You’re asking me to betray my family.” “Have they not already betrayed you by placing you in this position?” “Does that matter? Does it make it right if I do it?” Malfoy sounded angry, and Harry saw one hand come up to smooth back his sleek hair. “Draco, I do not think that choosing that way would constitute a betrayal. But you must follow your own conscience.” Severus’ voice sounded strained, as though he didn’t know what to say. “Is that all you have to say?” Malfoy demanded. “I came to you because I need advice. I need help.” “I have told you what I feel you should do. But in the end, it must be your own decision, Draco. I think you should leave the Dark behind you and follow your heart.” “Follow my heart?” Malfoy repeated. “Since when do you say things like that?” “Since I starting doing it myself,” Severus retorted. Another intense silence fell. “What?” Malfoy asked, sounding as strained as his godfather. “Draco,” Severus said slowly, “listen to me. I came back from the Dark side myself, and it was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I am simply trying to spare you having to go through the same thing. Fight with me.” “What do you mean,” Malfoy persisted, “by saying that you’ve started following your heart? Do you mean leaving the Death Eaters? Or do you mean something more recent?” A pause. Harry began to feel very awkward, standing out there in the hallway. He wondered if he should leave, not wanting to be caught in this position. But the next response stopped him. He had to hear this. “Draco,” Severus said, more quietly than before, “I am in love.”Another pause. “What?!” “I wanted you to know.” “But – who?” Malfoy sounded incredulous. “Do you really want to know?” “I’m not sure,” Malfoy responded guardedly. “Is it a man or a woman?” Harry could hear the smile in Severus’ voice. “Does it matter?” “Of course not. You know that.” “What do you think?” There was a pause as Malfoy evidently considered. “A man?” he guessed finally. There was the smile again. “Yes.” “Someone I know?” “Oh, yes,” Severus said dryly. “Someone I like?” “I don’t know. You certainly didn’t used to, but I have a feeling that may be changing.” Another thinking pause. “Someone I didn’t used to like, but who I like now,” Malfoy mused. “Someone…” his voice suddenly gained volume with comprehension. “Oh, sweet Merlin, tell me it’s not Potter!” “I’d prefer it if you called him Harry,” Severus said smoothly, not missing a beat. Malfoy muttered something incomprehensible, his face evidently buried in his hands. “What was that?” “How long?” The voice was clear again as Malfoy must have looked up. “Since early August.” Severus’ voice was still even. “And you’re – you’re in love with him?” “Yes. Very much so.” “And he’s… in love with you?” “Yes.” Again, Harry could hear the smile in the slightly-dreamy voice of his lover. “Potter?” Malfoy repeated disbelievingly. “Oh – sorry, Harry, I mean,” he added, in a tone that suggested he had also rolled his eyes. “I thought you two hated each other.” “Has no one ever told you that hate is simply love which has missed its way?” Severus asked, still sounding perfectly calm. “No,” Malfoy said. “Well, now you know. You two seem to be getting along in Potions class these days. I never thought I’d see the day when you could actually work together without hexing each other into next week.” “Me, neither,” admitted Malfoy. “I guess he’s alright,” he said grudgingly. He seemed to consider his next words for a bit, then finally said, “He offered to be friends with me, actually. He said I could hang out with him and Granger and Weasley.” “Did he?” said Severus, sounding deeply impressed. “That’s wonderful, Draco. You could use some real friends. They would be good friends for you, you know.” “Has the whole world gone mad?” Malfoy retorted. “Since when do you like Weasley and Granger?” “They were very… understanding about my relationship with Harry this summer,” Severus said. “Very tactful. And accepting. I assume that they’ve only acted this way for Harry’s sake, but I appreciate it all the same. And they have both behaved quite well in class this year, no doubt in tribute of the same.” “Where were you this summer, that all of them were there?” Malfoy asked, sounding confused. “Somewhere concerning Dumbledore,” Severus told him. He paused, then added, “You know that I cannot say more until you have made your decision, Draco. Oh, and I expect you to keep this conversation utterly secret. Is that understood?” “Of course,” Malfoy said. He waited. “Are you happy?” he asked directly. “You’ve seemed happier this term. Is it because of Pot – Harry?” “Yes,” Severus said simply. “I love him. He loves me. He makes me happy. I have never been happy before.” “Then I’m happy for you,” Malfoy said, in a tone that Harry realized was, for once, perfectly sincere. “So am I,” Severus told him, smiling. “I think you should talk to him. It would make me happier yet if you two were friends. He’ll need your help to win this war, Draco.” “What makes you think he’ll win it?” Malfoy retorted. “I feel it,” Severus said, with no further explanation. “I will be there, right beside him, and so will Dumbledore, any number of extremely talented Aurors, his Gryffindor friends, a great many of the other professors here, and so forth.” “I want to be on the winning side.” “I know, Draco. We all do, but it’s not that simple.” A silence ensued. “I’ll keep thinking about it,” Malfoy said finally. “You can talk to me at any time.” “I know. Thanks.” Malfoy hesitated, then turned to go. “Severus?” he asked, turning back. “Yes?” “I really am happy for you.” “Thank you,” said Severus quietly. Harry silently crept down to the end of the corridor and began walking purposefully toward Severus’ office as though approaching for the first time. Malfoy backed out of the office and turned around. He stopped short at the sight of Harry. Harry stopped walking. “Malfoy,” he said courteously, neutrally. “Potter.” Malfoy inclined his head slightly, but looked just a little flustered. “Malfoy,” Harry said again, very carefully, “I don’t know if you’ve thought any more about hanging out with Ron and Hermione and me at all, but if you want, we were going to watch the Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff quidditch match tonight, and if you wanted to sit with us, you could.” “O – okay,” Malfoy said, hardly believing his own ears, but quite aware of the half-open door behind him. “Which – which team are you supporting?” Harry shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter, does it? First match of the season and all. Besides, either your team or my team will win in the end, anyway.” He grinned, half-apologetically. Malfoy allowed himself a cautious smile. “You’re probably right,” he said. “Er – where should I meet you?” “Perhaps – perhaps the Entrance Hall, say ten minutes after dinner? Then we can change, or whatever.” “Get extra cloaks,” Malfoy agreed. “It’s getting cold out there.” “Okay,” said Harry, feeling a bit weird about the whole thing. “Well – see you then.” “Right,” Malfoy said, clearly feeling as wrong-footed as Harry. “See you later.” He quickly went around Harry and made his escape down the corridor to the Slytherin common room to recover his composure. Harry also drew a deep breath, and went into Severus’ office. Severus was leaning back in his chair and smiling in a very self-satisfied way. “Hello,” he said. “Hello,” Harry answered, closing the door behind him. He crossed the small room, ignoring, as usual, all the nasty things kept in the jars lining the shelves all around it, and sat down on Severus’ lap, craving closeness. Severus wrapped his arms tightly around Harry. “That was a good thing you did, just now. He really needed that.” “What, company to watch the quidditch match?” Harry said, laughing. “No. To hear that you really would accept him, that you really meant what you told him in Potions.” “I heard,” Harry confessed. “I heard your conversation. I didn’t want to interrupt. I thought it would be good, too. I still can’t quite believe he went for it,” he added wonderingly. Severus snuggled into Harry’s warmth. The dungeons were cold sometimes. “Does that tell you how much he needs you? Or friends in general, rather? But all the better because you’re the right kind of friend for him for right now.” “I guess,” Harry said. “I just hope it goes okay. I hope it’s okay with the other Slytherins if he sits with us.” “Do you mind that I told him about us?” Severus asked. “No. It sounded like he took it alright. I just thought you weren’t going to tell him just yet.” “I thought he needed to be reminded of my trust in him,” Severus said, shrugging slightly. “You told me that people who trust each other tell each other their secrets.” Harry smiled, remembering. “That was our first good conversation.” “So it was,” Severus said, also smiling. “It was the prelude to our first – our first – ” “This?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows and turning himself so that he was straddling the older man’s lap, pressing himself into his lover. Severus drew in his breath sharply. “Yes, that!” he said. His hands slid down Harry’s back to rest on his ass, drawing him closer yet. Harry silenced him with a deep, slow kiss, and began to move against him. Severus moaned in response and moved with Harry, finding a rhythm together. They breathed into one another’s mouths, bodies, hands moving of their own accord. The friction between them rose to a shuddering climax, and they finally broke apart, panting and spent. Severus glanced at the clock and said reluctantly, “Harry, dinner is starting in five minutes. We should go.” Harry made a grumpy-sounding noise. “Fine,” he said, untangling himself from Severus’ embrace. “Let’s go, then.” He pointed his wand at himself. “Scourgify,” he muttered. He looked up, to catch Severus looking at him amusedly. “What?” Severus reached out and lightly touched Harry’s puffy lips. “Nothing. It’s just that you look thoroughly kissed.” Harry raised his eyebrows. “That’s not all that’s been thoroughly done to me.” “You insolent brat,” Severus said, smacking Harry’s bottom slightly. “Be careful, I might develop a liking for that,” Harry said wickedly. Laughing, Severus chased him from the office. “Separate routes,” he said, like always, and took the passage to the left. “See you later on.” Harry headed off to the right. “Yeah. Coming to the match?” “Probably,” Severus said, already at the end of the corridor. “I’ll see you after that?” “Yes,” Harry called. “Later!” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: I don’t own these people, sadly – but some of their actions are mine alone!Chapter 13: The Quidditch MatchAfter dinner, Harry, Ron and Hermione waited just outside the Entrance Hall, already changed and dressed more warmly for the ensuing match. Harry had, of course, told them over dinner that Malfoy would be joining them. They had been, not surprisingly, quite surprised.“He is?” Ron asked, confusion all over his face. “Malfoy?”“Yep,” Harry said. “Is that okay?”Ron looked lost. “I… I don’t even know what to say to that,” he said, looking dazed. “Since when are you and Malfoy friends?”“We’re not, really,” Harry said honestly. “But I think he needs some, don’t you?” He looked at Hermione for support.She looked thoughtful. “Well, yes,” she said. “And if he’s trying to make up his mind to join our side in the war, it would definitely help if he actually liked some of us. And if he knew that we liked him.”“Exactly,” Harry said. He hesitated. “Also,” he added, not sure why he was saying this, “I think I feel bad for him. He’s in an awkward position with his father and all, and his reputation amongst the other Slytherins. I don’t think I hate him any more.”“And,” Ron added, “I’m sure Snape would be quite pleased if you two made friends, eh?” He gave Harry a part-knowing, part-mocking look.Harry nodded. “That’s part of it,” he said, not bothered by Ron, “but it really is the other stuff I said, too. So be nice to him, okay?”“Yeah, yeah,” Ron muttered. “As long as he’s nice to us.”Harry, remembering Mrs. Weasley’s warning way back in August, on his way to his first meeting with Severus, admonished him. “No. Be nice regardless. Okay?”“Fine,” said Ron, saving his eye-roll for when Harry wasn’t looking. Hermione gave Harry a reassuring smile.Malfoy appeared suddenly in a run, though as soon as he saw the three Gryffindors, he slowed immediately into a walk and busied himself with looking as though he’d been walking slowly the whole way. He approached them looking somewhat cautious.“Hey, Malfoy,” Harry said casually, then added in a mock-serious voice, “I believe you know my friends, Hermione and Ron?”Malfoy gave Harry a strange look, rolling his eyes. “We’ve met,” he said, but he was smiling. “Weasley, Granger.”“Hi Draco,” Hermione said. All three of the males looked at her in surprise. “What?” she said. “It’s his name, isn’t it?” she said to her friends. She turned back to Malfoy. “Is it okay if I call you Draco? Malfoy seems so formal.”Malfoy shrugged, looking a bit disconcerted. “Okay, sure,” he said uncertainly. “Do you – should I call you… uh, Hermione, then?”Hermione nodded serenely. “Sure, that’d be great,” she said. “Well then, should we go and get seats?” The crowd around them was swirling, as students went rushing outside from their dormitories. No one seemed to notice or care that Malfoy was standing with them.“Sure, let’s go,” said Harry. He looked at Hermione, who got the picture, took Ron by the elbow and led the way outdoors. Harry glanced at Malfoy, who silently fell into step beside him.As the four walked to the quidditch pitch, Harry felt distinctly awkward. He reminded himself that the Slytherin probably felt ten times more awkward. But what could he say? “Nice evening,” he said lamely.Malfoy looked at him and suddenly grinned. It was an odd effect. Harry could not remember him ever doing such a thing before. It changed his whole expression.“Trying to make small talk, Potter?” he asked, still grinning.Harry found himself grinning back. “I was trying to think of something to say,” he admitted.“It’s a bit cold,” Malfoy responded, clearly answering Harry’s observation.Encouraged, Harry went on. “But still good for playing.”“Yes,” Malfoy said, only watching the way ahead of them. “When’s the Gryffindor-Slytherin match?”“Not until after Christmas,” Harry said, then added in a joking tone, “We’ll be really good by then anyway, so I’m glad it’s not till later.”Malfoy shot him a look, but couldn’t resist laughing at this. “We’ll see about that when the time comes, Potter,” he said.“Yeah, I guess we will,” Harry answered, and dropped the bantering tone. He couldn’t believe that Malfoy had actually laughed at something he’d said. But then again, he still couldn’t believe that Malfoy was actually there with them at all. In a different tone of voice, he asked, “So… Malfoy, the other Slytherins… will they mind that you’re not sitting with them?”Malfoy kept his gaze on the pitch, which was drawing near. “It doesn’t really matter,” he said at last. “Crabbe and Goyle are too stupid to care, and frankly, the less time I spend around Parkinson, the better.”Harry looked at him curiously, though the blond kept his eyes ahead. “I thought you and her were friends. Or more, even.”Now Malfoy gave him a strange look. “Has it escaped your notice that she’s annoying as hell?” he asked witheringly. “No,” he went on, in a more relaxed manner, “I only hang out with her because she’s in my House and our families are friends. I’m expected to… keep up appearances, at least. And the other two are more like bodyguards than friends. I don’t really have any friends, Potter. I told you that, remember?”“Yeah,” said Harry, feeling awkward again. It was the first time Malfoy had referred to their Veritaserum-induced conversation. A pause fell. By this time, they were climbing up the stairs between the seats, following Ron and Hermione. Ron sat down first, then Hermione. Harry sat by her, and Malfoy sat down by him. The people in their section were mostly Gryffindors, but with a healthy scattering of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as well, dressed in their House colours. No Slytherins. Harry hoped Malfoy didn’t feel too weird. He scanned the crowd for Severus, who was sitting on the opposite side, in the front row of the section the Slytherins usually occupied. He, too, seemed to be scanning the crowd opposite himself, and finally his eyes found Harry and Malfoy. It was too far away to really make eye contact, but Harry could see a smile tug the corners of Severus’ mouth. He smiled back, hoping Severus could see him.“What are you smiling about?” Malfoy asked him.“Severus,” said Harry, without thinking. Then he realized what he’d called the professor and looked at Malfoy to see his reaction.“It’s okay,” Malfoy said calmly. “He told me, just earlier today, actually.”“I know,” Harry said, feeling very weird. “He told me, just after you were there.” He trailed off, not knowing what to say next.Malfoy appeared to be watching the players assembling on the pitch far below them, eyes squinting against the light. “He said you make him very happy,” came his response, still focused on the players below.Harry was a bit surprised that Malfoy was reacting so calmly. “Is that all you’re going to say?” he asked.Malfoy sat up and looked at him. “It’s really none of my business,” he said. “If you’re both happy, then good. I’ve noticed it seems to have mellowed you out a bit. And you seem to be doing so much better in his class, which makes sense. And you don’t seem to hate me as much.”“You don’t seem to hate me as much,” Harry pointed out.Malfoy resumed his concentration on the pitch. So far, the players were just circling on their brooms in warm-up laps. “You’ve probably noticed that I’m different, too.”“Yes.”“I’m still trying to make this decision,” Malfoy said finally, after a substantial pause. “If I’m going to fight with you, then I guess I could stand to lose this thing we’ve had since first year. Like I said, I don’t really have any friends anyway, so I don’t think I have much to lose here.”Harry chose his next words carefully. “Well, I guess we’re probably equally guilty there. But I swear, Malfoy, if you want to be friends with me and my friends, we’ll be there for you when you join us. We’ll be good friends to you. I know that having Ron and Hermione as my friends has made all the difference between my life being miserable and happy.”“And Severus.”“Yeah, and Severus,” Harry conceded, finding him in the crowd again.“What makes you so certain I’ll join your side, Potter?”“I just… feel it,” Harry said, shrugging at the lameness of his reply.“That’s what Severus said before, about the war. That he just feels that your side will win.”“It’s his side, too,” Harry reminded him.“He has a lot of faith in you.”The match began, and the fourteen players rose into the air. Seamus’ voice filled the air as he commentated, having replaced Lee Jordan the year before.“I have a lot of faith in him, and all the other people on our side,” Harry countered, continuing the conversation. “We could really use you, Malfoy. And I think you could use us, to be honest.”Malfoy’s eyes flashed, but before he could come up with a response, Ron had leaned over Hermione and Harry to ask, “Hey Malfoy, what do you think of the new Hufflepuff Seeker? Looks pretty fast, wouldn’t you say?”Malfoy looked a bit startled, but dutifully spotted Justin Finch-Fletchley zooming around the Ravenclaw goal-hoops. “Yeah, pretty fast,” he said thoughtfully. “But I don’t know if he’s as fast as Chang. She’s pretty good.”“Yeah, too bad she’s such a bitch,” Ron said.Malfoy grinned again, and raised his cultured brows. “Thought you lot were friends with her? At least Potter used to seem to think she was alright.” There was a teasing look on his face.Harry snorted. “That was a long time ago,” he said.“It was also before her sneak friend ratted out our Defense group to Umbridge back in fifth year,” Hermione added, trying to save face for Harry, unaware that Malfoy already knew both his orientation and his relationship with Snape.“Is that how she found out!” Malfoy said wonderingly. “I always wondered, because she wasn’t that bright on her own.”All three of the Gryffindors laughed at this. “No, she wasn’t,” Ron agreed. Harry was pleased that Ron was clearly making such an effort to get along with Malfoy. And actually, it wasn’t that bad, Harry mused to himself. It was actually rather fun to have a new person in their little group to talk over their past memories with, especially when he came from such a different perspective than they did. Malfoy was also making an admirable attempt at civility, which Harry thought was pretty nice.Ravenclaw scored several times in succession. “Well,” Malfoy said dryly, “looks like Finch-Fletchley has his work cut out for him. He’d better find that Snitch soon, or else it’ll be game over pretty quick.”“Yeah,” Ron agreed. Harry was feeling vastly pleased with himself for having thought of the match for a first activity for Malfoy to do with them. If there was one thing Ron loved talking about, it was quidditch. “But he’s quite a good flyer, wouldn’t you say?” Ron pressed.Malfoy studied the Hufflepuff thoughtfully. “Yeah, pretty good,” he admitted. “Especially for a – for someone who didn’t grow up with it,” he said, his pale cheeks flushing. All four of them realized that he’d been about to say something along the lines of “for a Mudblood”, or at least, “for a muggle-born”, and had caught himself out of deference to Hermione.“A lot better than me, anyway,” Hermione said, making it okay. Malfoy relaxed and gave her a grateful look which she didn’t miss. “I can’t fly to save my life.”Malfoy grinned. It was getting less unnerving. “Well, we all have to have something we’re not good at,” he said. “Makes up for you being so bloody good at everything else!”They all laughed. Ron shot Harry a look, eyebrows raised, clearly impressed by the fact that they and Malfoy were all getting along.When the match was finally over (Cho did end up getting the Snitch, and Ravenclaw won by a fair margin), the four of them walked back to the Entrance Hall together. When they got there, Malfoy stopped. “I go this way,” he said, indicating the flight of stairs leading down to the dungeons.There was a funny pause. “Well, that was fun,” Harry said lightly. “We should hang out again sometime.” Ron and Hermione nodded encouragingly.Malfoy looked round at all of them, and slowly nodded. “Sure. We can talk in Potions, or Care of Magical Creatures, maybe.”“Potions is good,” Harry said quickly, and added, by way of explanations, “Fewer other Slytherins.”Malfoy nodded again. “Okay. Well then, see you three in class tomorrow.” He turned and went quickly down the stairs.“Good night!” Hermione called after him.“Good night,” came Malfoy’s voice like an echo, trailing off into the distance.Ron and Hermione turned immediately to Harry as they began making their way to Gryffindor Tower. “That was really good!” Hermione said excitedly. “He really seemed to get along with us okay!”“Yeah, I never thought he could actually be okay to hang out with!” Ron said enthusiastically. “He’s really okay when he wants to be.”Harry was glad that they were so enthusiastic. “And it’s kind of nice to have some fresh blood around, as it were, eh?” he asked. “It was cool, talking about Umbridge now that he’s mostly on our side.”“Do you think he really is?” Hermione asked, looking sideways at Harry.Harry nodded. “Yes. I’m sure he’s going to choose this way. And hey, it never hurts to have more friends does it, I – oh!” He broke off suddenly, catching a glimpse of Severus waiting at the end of the hallway leading to Gryffindor Tower. Ron and Hermione looked, too.“Good night, Harry,” Hermione said firmly, pulling Ron with her, who seemed to be struck dumb at the sight of Snape in the vicinity of Gryffindor Tower, clearly waiting for Harry. They went through the portrait and into the common room, leaving Harry and Severus alone.“Hello,” said Harry, grinning. “Aren’t we out of our usual habitat?”“Insolent boy,” Severus said, smiling. He came forward from the alcove he’d been lounging in and folded Harry in a hug.“It wasn’t bad at all,” Harry assured him. “Even Ron and him got along, just fine!”“I could see that,” Severus said, still smiling. “And I’m really glad, for all your sakes.”“He’s actually pretty nice, when he wants to be,” said Harry. “Just a bit confused right now, I guess.”“Thank you for doing that, Harry,” said Severus quietly. “I know it will mean a lot to him, and it does to me, too.”“I know,” said Harry, feeling wonderfully warm in the prolonged hug. It had indeed been cold outside. He looked up into the smiling face of his lover. “Let’s go downstairs.”“Okay.” Furtively, hand in hand, they made their way down. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize Chapter 14: Arguments Harry was wondering, as he made his way down to the dungeons the next morning, trailing slightly after Ron and Hermione, whether things with Malfoy might be a bit awkward today. Perhaps the Slytherin would regret having been so candid, or being publicly seen with Gryffindors, and them in particular, at all. On the other hand, Malfoy rarely did anything without thinking it through pretty thoroughly first. One never knew. They entered the Potions classroom, and as Harry knew they would be working in their assigned partners, took his now-usual seat next to Malfoy, who was already there. Malfoy caught sight of Harry and began busying himself about the cauldron. “Morning,” Harry said neutrally, avoiding eye contact and unpacking his own things. “Good morning,” Malfoy responded precisely. He looked up quickly, silvery eyes meeting Harry’s just long enough to be courteous. “How are you?” Harry asked carefully. “Oh, fine,” Malfoy said, shrugging. But Harry wondered. There was something slightly amiss in the tone. He looked at Malfoy, waiting for further explanation and wondering still further if he would get any at all. Malfoy looked up again, catching Harry’s gaze. “Well,” he said, and seemed to weigh his words, “as fine as can be expected, I suppose, given that my… the other Slytherins in my year seem to think I’ve gone round the bend.” Harry’s eyebrows rose. “About the quidditch match?” “Yes,” Malfoy said simply. He shrugged again, shaking his sleek hair back from his face. He looked up at the blackboard, but Snape was not actually in the room yet, as Harry had instantly noticed, and there was no Potion listed on the board as of yet. “Where is he?” Malfoy wondered aloud. “He’s not usually late.” Harry felt a blush rising in his cheeks. “He, uh…” Malfoy gave Harry a pointed look. “Oh, Merlin, Potter, don’t tell me you just left his rooms within the past hour!” Harry’s red cheeks answered this neatly enough, though he attempted to uncover a good reply nonetheless. “Probably still in the shower, then,” Malfoy smirked. Recovering his composure, Harry said impishly, “Well, he does take long showers.” Malfoy laughed out loud, clearly taken by surprise, drawing strange looks from the other students around them. “I guess you would know,” he said, much more quietly than he had laughed. Harry couldn’t help but appreciate how much subtler Malfoy was than, say, Ron – whose favourite pastime, as Hermione put it, was to blurt out sensitive information for all to hear. “I guess I would,” he answered cheekily, though his blush hadn’t quite faded yet. Just then, the door at the blackboard-end of the dungeon swung open and Snape strode in, robes billowing. He looked ever so slightly dishevelled and rushed. Harry also noticed, to his secret delight, that his lips still looked rather puffy – and that Severus had chosen a rather higher-collared shirt than usual. Malfoy leaned over slightly and said, “I really must congratulate you, Potter; the man looks thoroughly fucked.” Harry elbowed Malfoy hard. “Shut up, will you?” he whispered, grinning. Malfoy laughed again. Snape looked up at them from the desk, where he was quickly arranging his things. He caught Harry’s eye, the telltale traces of blush, and Malfoy’s smirk, and an uncharacteristic blush crept into his own cheeks. “Settle down,” he said, meaning for it to sound more forceful than it did. “Or I will be forced to take House points, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter.” That was better. Harry immediately stopped smiling and attempted to replace his expression with one of indignant horror. Though he couldn’t look too horrified, given that Severus didn’t usually threaten Malfoy, too. “Really, Potter,” Malfoy muttered, “you’re bringing me down in this class. I never used to get threatened here!” But he was still smiling. Harry could not remember a time when Malfoy had been so – so jovial. It was strange. But fine by him. In a way, it was rather odd, not to have this feud they’d always had. But definitely less complicated. Well, perhaps not. Malfoy’s whole position on the war was still hanging in the balance of this tentative new friendship. Harry realized that they would have to be careful with him yet; never presume too much with him, not get too familiar. Friendly. But not necessarily trusting. Severus was talking. The potion was on the board. “I have all that stuff,” Malfoy said, stopping Harry from going up to the stores cupboard. Harry stopped. “Don’t you mind, wasting all your own supplies when you could be using the free ones?” Malfoy shrugged. “It’s not a waste. Severus probably needs them more than I do. My father is the one paying for these, anyway. I might as well use something he gave me.” There was the slightest stress on the word something, accompanied by a strain of bitterness in Malfoy’s voice. Harry just nodded, reached for Malfoy’s container of Doxy essence and checked the measurement on the board. “Okay.” After class, it transpired that several Slytherins were waiting for Malfoy. Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise Zabini. All with their arms crossed. Harry, Ron and Hermione were with Malfoy as they were leaving. Harry heard Ron curse softly under his breath. They waited, hanging back in case Malfoy got attacked or something. “Malfoy,” Zabini said casually. “Long time no see.” There was definitely accusation in his voice. “Let me point out that I’m in seventh-year Potions, which none of you qualified for,” Malfoy said shortly. “It’s not about the fucking class, Malfoy,” Zabini retorted. “Then tell me what it’s about and get out of my way.” “Draco,” Pansy attempted to coo, hampered greatly by her whiny, nasal voice and general ugliness, “we’ve been missing you. Where’ve you been lately?” She crossed the corridor and put her hand on his hand. Malfoy shoved it off abruptly. “Don’t touch me. Where I go is my business and who I choose to go there with is as well. Don’t presume to dictate my activities.” “Cut the crap, Malfoy,” Zabini shot. “What the fuck was that, last night?” He threw dirty looks at the three Gryffindors. “Since when do you hang out with Gryffindorks?” “Go fuck yourself, Zabini!” Malfoy hurled the phrase both with elegance and force. “Did you hear what I just said?” “Draco,” Pansy simpered, though still looking hurt, “we’re your friends. We just want to be with you.” Malfoy didn’t answer for a moment. He appeared to be thinking. Harry could almost hear his conflict. Before he could say anything, though, Ron did. “Leave him alone,” Ron said roughly. “He can make up his own mind about who he wants to be with. If he wants to sit with someone else for a change, that’s his prerogative. And we’re just talking about a quidditch match here! Get a grip!” Crabbe growled audibly, and Goyle’s hands fisted. “Nice,” Harry said to them, raising his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t even know what do without Malfoy to instruct you – or is Zabini taking over there?” Zabini gave Harry an appraising look. “You want to watch yourself, Potter,” he said in a dangerous tone. “Bear in mind that we know Malfoy a good deal better than you, won’t you? We’re rather more familiar with… where his loyalties lie.” “I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry shot back, “right along with saving the world, winning the quidditch cup and keeping myself alive for the duration of seventh year.” He turned on his heel and strode angrily down the corridor, feeling Malfoy, Hermione and Ron right behind him. “Nice one, Harry,” Ron said approvingly, once they’d put some distance between themselves and the Slytherins. “That creep, Zabini,” Hermione said witheringly. “He’s probably all pleased that he gets to be the new ringleader anyway.” Harry knew that the Slytherins were lousy friends to Malfoy anyway, but he wasn’t sure how Malfoy was feeling at the moment – for all Harry knew, Malfoy might not have even appreciated their input into what he might have preferred to be a private interview. They reached the Entrance Hall. Malfoy caught Harry’s sleeve as the Gryffindors turned automatically toward the staircase to head to the Charms corridor. “I have Transfiguration,” Malfoy said. “Oh – right,” Harry said, wondering if he should say something about the confrontation. “Malfoy – ” “Thank you,” Malfoy interrupted quietly. “Thanks for defending me.” Harry felt surprise cross his features. “Oh – don’t worry about that,” he said, feeling uncertain. Ron and Hermione were waiting at the top of the stairs. He grinned, trying to lighten the moment. “It’s not like I’m not used to confrontations with Slytherins.” Malfoy smiled, too, but didn’t laugh. “No one’s ever done that for me before,” he said in the same quiet voice. That took Harry’s grin off his face. “Well, they should have,” he said. “I know that Crabbe and Goyle don’t count.” “No, they don’t,” Malfoy agreed. He looked up the staircase, to where Ron and Hermione were still visible. “Thank you, too, Weasley,” he called. Ron looked thoroughly startled in the dim light illuminating his pale, freckled skin. “Oh! It – it was nothing,” he stammered. “It’s fine – like Harry said, we’re used to that sort of thing.” “But it means something to me,” Malfoy told him. He nodded curtly at Hermione. “Hermione.” He turned and took another corridor leading off the Entrance Hall. “See you later,” Harry called. “Right,” the Slytherin’s voice floated back. Harry jogged up the steps to catch up with his friends, both of whom were looking at him wide-eyed. “Changed some, hasn’t he?” Ron said. Harry nodded. Forgetting they couldn’t really see that as they were walking quickly so as not to be late for Charms, he said, “Yes. I told you he had.” “You were right,” said Hermione, patting Harry’s arm. “If we’d known that just being decent to him would change him that much, we could have avoided all this stuff we’ve had with him for the past six year.” “No,” said Harry, frowning slightly. “I think it had to be now. It’s the right time.” “You’re probably right again,” Hermione conceded. “Come on. We’re going to be late.” After Charms, it was lunch. The three Gryffindors retraced their steps to the Entrance Hall, to find Malfoy lounging casually against the wall beside the double doors. As they approached, he pulled himself off of it. “Did you go to Transfiguration?” Ron asked, raising his eyebrows. Whatever else you could say for Malfoy, he rarely skived off classes. “Of course,” Malfoy responded easily. “I just got back here quick. Er – I wanted to ask a favour.” They exchanged glances. “Do you want to sit with us?” Harry asked, putting his finger on it. Malfoy looked grateful at not having had to say it himself. “Would the rest of your House mind?” “Does it look like we generally care about other people’s opinions?” Ron asked, grinning. Malfoy had to laugh. “No. Okay. I get it. Noble Gryffindors and all.” Harry punched him lightly in the arm. “Git. Come on, I’m starving.” There was a ripple of murmuring as people saw Malfoy entering with the Golden Trio, rising to a crescendo as Malfoy walked past his own table and coolly sat down beside Harry, across from Hermione. Heads turned their direction. Harry decided to deal with it straightaway. “Look, all you lot,” he said, addressing the Gryffindors closest to them, which included Seamus, Dean, Ginny, Neville, Lavendar and Parvati, “Malfoy’s going to sit with us sometimes, okay? He’s here with our – ” Harry nodded toward Ron and Hermione – “invitation. So try to be decent, alright?” There were looks of curiosity and surprise, but no one said anything bad. Dean reached across Harry and held out his hand. “Dean Thomas,” he said, in case Malfoy didn’t remember the name. “Welcome to the table.” “You’ll probably notice that we get the shiniest plates,” Seamus added, reaching across the table to shake Malfoy’s hand as well. Malfoy shook both hands, nodding, cheeks faintly tinged with pink. “Thanks,” he said simply, and looked at Harry, who shrugged and grinned. At some point during lunch, Harry caught Severus’ eye at the staff table, and was rewarded by seeing the look of surprise on the older man’s face. Severus raised an eyebrow and looked deeply impressed and pleased, and smiled at Harry. Malfoy also happened to look up, following Harry’s line of vision, and also received a cool smile from his godfather. Feeling rather pleased himself, he returned his attention to his lunch. It was a rare thing when people were not disappointed in Draco Malfoy, and he was going to savour it when it happened. * * * Sometime later, Harry let himself into Severus’ chambers. The parlour was empty. “Severus?” he called, going back into the bedroom. It was not empty. Harry drew in his breath. His lover was lying naked on the black silk sheets, arms draped casually above his head with a grace and elegance that most men could never achieve. He gave Harry his curving smile, and said nothing. “Wow,” Harry said, staring hungrily at the beautiful sight. “Don’t just stand there,” Severus said lazily. “Take off your clothes.” “Yes, sir!” Harry set down the silvery bundle of invisibility cloak he was holding, toed off his trainers and bent to pull off his socks. Then he decided to make it a little more fun. Slowly, he began to unbutton his school robe, keeping his eyes on Severus’ onyx gaze, which glittered in the candlelight. The fastenings were open. Harry pulled the sleeves back, let the robe drop to the floor and let it lie there. Now the tie. It unknotted easily, was drawn softly away from the collar and fell to the floor. Harry started unbuttoning his shirt and let it slip off his shoulders slowly, agonizingly slowly. He knew that candlelight became his tanned skin perfectly, sculpted from quidditch and Defense training, nipples already firm in the cool of the room. Severus did not move, but Harry noticed that he was hard already. Harry undid his belt, eyes still locked on Severus’ eyes. He slid the zipper down and stepped out of his pants. The bulge of his erection tented the front of his boxers. Harry turned his back on Severus and slowly pulled the boxers down. When he turned around again, full-on erection swinging around with him, he heard Severus’ sharp intake of breath. He waited. “Come here.” Severus’ voice was hoarse with desire. Harry walked slowly toward the bed. “How do you want me?” he whispered, his own voice thick. “I’ll show you. Come here.” Severus motioned Harry to join him on the bed. Harry crawled forward, bending over his lover, dropped his mouth down where it was dissolved in a fiery kiss. He touched the tip of his cock to Severus’ erection, and they both shivered. Severus’ hands ran up the length of Harry’s arms, pulled him down into another kiss. Their shivering erections touched lightly, touched against, length rubbing down length. “Turn about,” Severus said, making a pivoting motion with his finger. Harry complied, straddling Severus’ torso backwards. Those pale, long-fingered hands took Harry’s hips and gently drew him backwards, back, until suddenly a warm mouth was taking him, covering his erection with warmth. Harry gasped aloud. It felt different this way. Amazing. From his vantage point, it was perfectly easy to do the same in return. He bent forward and and took Severus into his own mouth, was rewarded by his lover’s moan, hips bucking upward into him. With one hand, Severus gently held Harry’s balls, and Harry mimicked the motion, loving how it felt. With their mouths occupied, the only sound in the room was both their muffled moans. Harry gave a groan. The warm sensation was rising, he felt like he was rising into the air. He was going to come. He came, hard, hips shooting forward against his volition, and he cried out, his mouth still full of Severus. It seemed that that particular sensation had an effect on the other, who came right then, too, shooting white foam into Harry’s waiting mouth. They lay still, panting, for a moment, but despite its undeniable effectiveness, the position was not particularly comfortable. Harry gently drew himself out of Severus’ mouth and turned himself around, settling himself into the crook of an elbow, nestled along Severus’ side. “That,” he said emphatically, “was amazing.” “Thank you,” said Severus, eyes glinting snarkily. “I’ve been planning that since lunch.” “Wow,” said Harry, smiling against the nipple his mouth was caressing. “Is this a reward for officially having befriended Malfoy?” “Perhaps,” said Severus cagily. “I’ve been wanting to try that for some time now, as well.” Harry laughed, and Severus thought he had never heard a more beautiful sound – the sound of one’s young lover, basking in the bliss of afterglow in the warmth and security of a stable, committed relationship. “I love you,” Harry said. Severus held him tighter. “I love you, too.” “Severus.” “Yes?” “I want you to do something for me.” There was an intensity to Harry’s voice which he was obviously trying to mask somewhat. “I thought I just did,” Severus replied cheekily, but wondering what was coming. “Git.” Harry pinched his nipple lightly. “I’m serious.” “What is it?” “I want to go with you, next time you have to go and spy.” Harry didn’t move, and Severus didn’t open his eyes, but he could feel Harry tense a little as he waited for the answer. Severus shook his head. “No. No, Harry, I cannot permit that. You know this.” Harry said stubbornly, “I want to come. I’m not afraid.” “It’s not a question of being afraid. You’re too important to the war to risk your life like that.” “So you are risking your life,” Harry said at once. There was a stubbornness to his sudden mood shift that Severus recognized as sounding difficult to overcome. “You know that, too.” “I could watch out for you. I want to be there, to protect you if you need it,” Harry said. “I want to be there, by your side, like you’ll be when I finally have to face Voldemort.” “That’s different,” Severus said lamely. “This I cannot allow. I will not willingly put you in danger.” “My whole life’s in danger,” Harry said forcefully. “Going with you on one of your spy missions will hardly change that!” “No, Harry. Besides, Dumbledore would never permit it, either.” “I don’t care about Dumbledore! I care about you!” Now Harry propped himself up on one elbow to look down at Severus, who felt the change. “Remember what I warned you of, back during your Occlumency lessons?” Snape asked. “That people who let other people matter too much to them make themselves easy targets for the Dark Lord.” Harry was stung. “Are you saying you matter to me more than I matter to you?” “No!” Severus was alarmed. He had not meant to imply that. “No, Harry, I love you!” “But you don’t consider me your equal.” “Did I say that?” “No, but it’s fine for you to tell people you’ll protect me in my battles, but that I can’t protect you in yours. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?” Harry accused angrily, pulling away. “No, it is not what I mean, nor what I said,” Severus said, starting to get angry himself. “I just – ” “You just what?” Harry said, rolling off the bed and going to where his garments lay scattered. “Harry, come back.” Harry said nothing, but dressed himself about ten times faster than he’d undressed. His fingers were shaking and he eventually gave up trying to button his shirt, settling for fastening half of the robe hooks. “Harry, come on. Don’t go.” He picked up the invisibility cloak. “Good night, Severus,” he said stiffly, and left the room. “Harry!” Severus shouted. “Wait!” But the door to the main chamber had closed. He fell back, tears pricking humiliatingly at his eyes. Suddenly, he felt ridiculous in this pose. He extinguished the candles and cleaned himself. He would just have to deal with this in the morning, or the following evening, more likely. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing at all, except some ideas Chapter 15: Decisions Harry’s furious pace had slowed to a morose walk. He really did not want to go back into the Gryffindor common room, as it was still fairly early – no more than nine o’clock or so. He moved off in the direction of the Entrance Hall, thinking that perhaps he would go down to the lake and think. He was starting to feel distinctly embarrassed at his childish storming out. Way to keep a person impressed with your maturity. Despite having befriended Draco Malfoy. Harry shivered. The night was cool again, and the soft sounds of rippling water met his ears. And speak of the devil. A small, lithe figure was sitting at the shore, leaning against a boulder, arms wrapped about his insubstantial frame. “Malfoy?” Harry asked softly, walking up behind the other. Malfoy’s head snapped around, wand whipping out. He hesitated. “Potter?” he asked finally. “Oh – yeah, sorry.” Harry pulled the invisibility cloak off his face. “Hi.” “Should’ve known it was you,” Malfoy muttered, stowing his wand away. “Well, Potter, what brings you out here?” His voice was dull, but he gave Harry a quick look of slight concern. Harry bit his lip, and sat down on the pebbles a few feet from Malfoy. The breeze was coming up his robes, blowing into the cracks left open by the half done-up buttons of his shirt. He shivered again. “Just a fight,” he muttered, looking away. “A fight?” Malfoy looked at him. “With Severus?” Harry nodded, still watching the water. “What – what was it about?” Malfoy asked, adding quickly, in tribute to their newfound friendship, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. But if you want to talk about it, you can.” “It’s just…” Harry bit his lip again. “I, well, maybe I overreacted.” He fell silent again. “To…?” Malfoy prompted gently. “The thing is, I don’t know how much I can say,” Harry said finally. “It has something to do with the Order. The thing is, Severus goes on these really dangerous missions sometime, and he won’t let me come with him. But he expects me to let him fight with me when the time comes, you know, with Voldemort.” Malfoy considered this. “Hmm,” he said. “I can see why you’d be pissed off. What did he say, exactly?” “Well, we talked about it before, once, maybe a month ago, and he said he just didn’t want to put me into any unnecessary danger and all that stuff, you know, about caring about me too much, et cetera, but now it just makes me think that he doesn’t see us as equals, that he thinks I’m not capable of protecting him the way he can protect me.” Malfoy made a thinking noise. “For anyone else’s relationship, I’d say that was true,” he said, squinting at the moon. “But you’re you. You’re Harry Potter. You can’t just be careless with your life.” “I’m not!” “I know. But don’t you see what I mean? You literally are the hope of the entire wizarding world, and of the non-magical world, too, if they only knew it. You have a duty to the rest of us to watch out for yourself, and, like he says, not get yourself into any unnecessary danger. Severus obviously knows that you’re talented, powerful, capable, all of that. It’s just the Voldemort thing.” Harry thought about this. “Do you really think that’s all there is to it?” “Yes,” Malfoy said firmly. “He loves you. He respects you. I know it. Not only has he said it, I can feel it. I’ve known him for a long time. Not like you, of course,” he added quickly. “But I can add my vote to everyone else’s, and say that you’re my entire hope for any sort of future, too.” Harry gave him a surprised look. “Since when do you engage in Boy-Who-Lived worship?” he asked sardonically. “It’s not,” Malfoy said. “It’s true. I’ve made up my mind, Potter. And my father will, quite literally, kill me once he finds out.” “You’re going to join us?” “What else could I do?” Malfoy asked in a low voice. “I may be a little prick, but I know what’s right.” Careful not to let on that he’d overheard Malfoy’s conversation with Severus in the office the other day, Harry said, “I’d always pegged you as a picking the winning side kind of a guy.” “I was, up until recently.” Malfoy’s voice was even. “What changed?” “I think you Gryffindors are rubbing off on me,” Malfoy said, smiling slightly. “It occurred to me at lunch today that about ten people were nicer to me, who they knew to be a jerk, than any of my so-called friends have ever been. Oh, I know they did all the right stuff, but none of it was ever genuine. Besides, you can’t even converse with Crabbe and Goyle, as you must realize, and Zabini’s pure evil and I hate Pansy. You and Ron and Hermione have done more for me in two days than anyone else has ever done, including my own parents. Well, and Severus, too. I’ve just been sitting here, since dinner, thinking about all of this, and I think I really have no choice, unless I want to sell what soul I have completely.” He looked suddenly so barren, so haunted, that Harry was almost tempted to touch him, reassure him in some way. “You have a lot of soul, Draco,” he said, choosing the name deliberately. Malfoy looked up suddenly at this, silver eyes reflecting the waxing full moon. “I hope so,” he said, and gave a shaky laugh. Then, “Is it okay if I call you Harry now?” “Definitely,” Harry assured him. “If we’re going to be friends, let’s be friends for real.” “I guess that means I have to call Weasley by his name, too.” “Yes, it does,” said Harry firmly, but Draco was smiling. “I think I can handle it,” he said. “How will you keep it from your father?” Harry asked, serious again. “I am supposed to be taking the Mark immediately after graduation,” Draco answered, the smile slipping from his face. “I just won’t leave school. Either I’ll stay with Severus – don’t worry, I’ll leave when you come around – ” Draco grinned – “or I’ll go wherever go guys are going. Wherever Order people go. I’ll talk to Dumbledore tomorrow, or maybe him and Severus both, and I’ll join whenever you and your friends are joining.” “And your friends, now, too,” Harry reminded him. “Right. My friends,” Draco repeated, the words sounding foreign to him. “Sound like a plan?” He looked at Harry. “Yeah, it does,” Harry said, feeling heartily sorry for Draco. “I’m sorry it has to be like this for you, Draco. That you have to be in so much danger, just to do what’s right.” Draco shrugged elegantly. “You have even more danger, and that’s just for trying to stay alive. It’s all relative. Come on, let’s go in, it’s bloody cold out here.” Harry agreed, standing up immediately. They began to walk fairly briskly back to the castle. “So, you alright, then?” Draco asked curiously. “Are you going to go and talk to him?” Harry thought about it. “Yeah, I guess I should. I just feel a little embarrassed now, you know? Overreacting and all.” “Let me guess. You stormed out in a fit of rage, half-dressed and trying to be all cold.” Harry grinned despite himself. “Yeah, that’s about right.” Draco rolled his eyes. “Gryffindors. Honestly.” “I’ll make it up to him.” They were at the doors. “I don’t even want to think about how,” Draco groaned, rolling his eyes again. They took the stairs leading down into the dungeons together. Draco took a turn just before the corridor where Severus’ chambers were. “I’m going to bed,” he said. “I’ll just talk to him tomorrow – you two probably need to be alone. See you.” “See you,” Harry said, then added, “Thanks for listening, Draco. It helped.” “You should talk about your feelings more often,” Draco said simply. At Harry’s look of confusion, he added, “You always bottle it all up. I can tell. And… thanks for everything, Harry. I’m glad we’re on the same side at last.” “Me too,” said Harry, smiling. “You’d’ve made a scary Death Eater.” “Don’t remind me! Good night!” Draco turned and went his went, leaving Harry alone in the corridor. He went and quietly let himself into Severus’ apartments. It was all quiet and dark. He was probably sleeping. For a moment, Harry debated with himself, then decided that Severus wouldn’t mind being woken for this. In the parlour, in the low light of the embers still blazing in the fireplace, Harry shed his clothes for the second time that night, left them all there and slipped softly into the bedroom. Severus was indeed sleeping, his bare chest gleaming like chiselled marble in the moonlight. A troubled look creased his handsome features, and Harry felt a pang of remorse. He had fallen asleep still feeling badly over Harry’s sudden departure. Harry moved across the room, lifted the blankets and slid over to cradle Severus’ body with his own. He slipped his arms around Severus and kissed his arm and shoulder gently. Severus stirred and woke. “Harry!” he whispered groggily, but his voice sounded relieved. He twisted around in Harry’s embrace to face him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Harry murmured against the pale, silken skin of his lover. “I was such a prat, I’m sorry, Severus.” “You came back.” “I had to, I had to come back and tell you how sorry I am. I totally overreacted. I understand why.” “Do you?” Severus stroked the hair back from Harry’s forehead, gently caressed his face. “I do,” Harry assured him. “I’ll respect it. I love you, Severus. Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?” “I promise,” Severus said instantly, his arms tightening around Harry. “I promise. You are what I live for, you know. I won’t take risks unnecessarily. They never see me, anyway, I’m too good.” Harry smiled, and Severus traced his smile in the dark. “Good thing,” he said, suddenly very sleepy. “How far did you get, before you realized you’d been a prat?” Severus asked teasingly. “The lake,” Harry said. “I didn’t want to go back to the common room yet, so I went to the lake, and Draco was there, so we talked.” “Draco was there?” “Yeah,” Harry said. “He was thinking. He asked what I was doing there, so I told him about this, and he pointed out that you’re absolutely right, and then we talked about him. He’s decided, you know?” “Has he?” Severus asked, in a tone of immense relief. “I presume you mean he’s decided to join us?” “Yes, of course,” Harry said. “He’s planning to tell you and Dumbledore tomorrow. He – he thought we might want to be alone tonight.” “Insolent boy,” Severus growled, though his hand was very soft in Harry’s hair. “You’re very fond of him, aren’t you?” “Of course,” Severus said. “I have been very worried about him for the past few years. You and your friends may have been his salvation.” Harry nodded. “He pretty much said that himself. I’m glad. He’s a nice guy, and he deserves better friends.” “You can leave off the better,” Severus said. “Yeah, I meant to, sorry. He needs friends. And now he has some, so I’m glad. And he’ll be really good on our side.” “Yes, that is my hope,” Severus said. “I am very glad that you and he are no longer at odds, especially given… this,” he said, running his hands down Harry’s side, landing on his hip bone. “You two and Dumbledore are my favourite people here. It is vastly more convenient for my favourite people to like one another.” Harry laughed softly, his eyes closed. “Well, I’m just so pleased that it’s all worked out for your convenience,” he said, kissing Severus’ chest. Severus gazed fondly down at Harry’s still face. “I love you,” he said. Harry hugged him hard, wrapping both arms and both legs around Severus’ body. “I love you, too.” Their bodies were touching now, from chest to knee, feet tangling, sole on sole. Though he was extremely sleepy and happy, Harry felt stirrings of desire. And so, apparently, did Severus. Their erections met and bumped. “Harry…?” Severus trailed off. “No, I’m not too tired,” Harry answered, laughing. He rolled onto his back. “Do you want to fuck me, or should I fuck you?” “Whose turn is it?” “I can’t remember. You fuck me, I like that.” Harry drew his knees waist high, allowing Severus to settle his body between them. “Are you – ?” “I’m ready. Go.” Harry’s hands were on his ass, dragging him down. Their mouths met, they shared their breath between them, tongues jangling. Severus entered Harry slowly, waited for the expected gasp of pleasure, mingled with a bit of pain, then began to move slowly. The edge of pain melted away, and Harry was gasping, his erection nearly vertical against Severus’ taut stomach. “Deeper!” Harry managed to get out, and Severus was obedient, his own breathing laboured and rasping. They came at the same moment, Severus’ warm come filling Harry in that still-strange but not-unpleasant sensation; Harry’s come spraying out over both their bodies. Harry’s hands were on his face now, pulling it down for a last good night kiss. “I love you,” he said again. “I’m sorry about before.” “It’s over, Harry, forget it. I love you, too.” They disentangled themselves most of the way from one another, but lay back with their arms still wrapped around each other. “Good night,” Harry breathed, sleep stealing over him. “Good night, my love. Go to sleep.” Severus stroked that stubborn curl that hid the thin scar on Harry’s forehead back, let his hand travel a soft path down Harry’s face, coming to rest against his chest. Feeling his heartbeat there, real and solid beneath his fingers, he allowed himself to sleep, too. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters; Joanne K. Rowling does Chapter 16: A Meeting The next day, Harry did not see Draco at all. The Gryffindors and Slytherins had no classes together that day, and Draco did not appear for any meals. Well, at least not lunch and dinner – Harry had not been at breakfast. According to Ron and Hermione, they had not seen Draco, but that did not mean he wasn’t there. Although Harry suspected the Slytherin was keeping a deliberately low profile. Harry wondered where he was, and if he was alright. He wasn’t with Snape, who was at the staff table for both meals. The day passed uneventfully. Harry, still tired from being up so late the night before, had gone to bed early, after a quiet round of chess with Ron, leaving his homework for the next day. Or the day after. In the morning, Harry woke feeling somewhat more refreshed. For a moment he wondered where he was; it was not easy keeping track when he woke up almost equally in two different places. He got to his bed in Gryffindor most nights; it was fairly infrequent when he started them out there, however. He was becoming a master of stealth-in-one’s-invisibility-cloak mode. Only once had Harry encountered someone leaving the dorm as he was entering. He smiled to himself over breakfast at the memory; Parvati had been quite embarrassed. He wondered if Seamus knew; he and Dean were very good friends. Harry mused, noting in passing that Draco was not at breakfast again. “Harry?” Harry looked up, realizing that Ron had already called him once, by the sound of his tone. “Yeah? Sorry.” Ron rolled his eyes. “I asked you what we have now.” “Oh – ” Harry struggled for a moment. “Transfiguration,” he said at last. He checked the clock on the wall above the staff table. “I guess we’d better go.” Hermione was already waiting for them by the doors, having gone ahead to have a word with Professor Flitwick. “Come on,” she scolded. “May I have a word, Harry?” came a familiar voice from behind them, accompanied by a light hand on Harry’s shoulder – a light hand which nonetheless radiated both power and beneficence. There was only one man in the whole of the wizarding world like that.“Dumbledore,” said Harry, turning quickly in his surprise. “You may go on,” Dumbledore told the other two, “as Harry while be awhile. You may tell Professor McGonagall not to expect him this class, though I expect she will remember.” “Oh – okay,” Hermione said, taking Ron by the elbow. “See you later, Harry.” “See you.” Harry turned to the Headmaster. “What is it?” “I just wondered if we could have a talk in my office.” Dumbledore said. His tone was neither pleased nor displeased. He began to walk, clearly expecting Harry to follow, which he did. As they arrived at the twin gargoyles which guarded the way to the staircase leading into Dumbledore’s office, Harry realized that he had not yet been in this office this year. He didn’t even know what the password was. Knowing Dumbledore’s penchant for candy, Harry watched him expectantly. “Iced pumpkin juice!” Dumbledore said proudly, eyes twinkling at Harry as he watched for his reaction. Harry had to laugh. Trust Dumbledore to be unexpected. Trust Dumbledore to suddenly come out with a random bit of silliness when Harry was expecting quite a serious talk. Trust Dumbledore to give a serious talk nonetheless. He followed the older wizard up the stairs. As they entered, Dumbledore wordlessly waved Harry to his usual chair and asked, “Tea?” Harry nodded. “Sure. Thanks.” Tea appeared. “Harry, I just wanted to talk with you about a few things, which in the end are all related. First of all, though, how are you? I have not had the opportunity to speak with you yet this summer – not since summer, in fact.” Harry smiled. He remembered that meeting fondly, though he hadn’t felt very fond at the time. “I’m doing really well, sir, thanks. It’s been a good few months.” Dumbledore smiled, folding his long fingers in front of him on the desk. “I trust that much of this good feeling is a result of your relationship with Severus,” he said, and it was not a question. Harry blushed despite himself. “Well, yes, sir,” he said, trying to sound as though he discussed his relationships with older men who happened to be his teachers with his Headmaster all the time. “Relax, Harry. I am perfectly aware of the situation and am fine with it. You two have proven to be very discreet, and I know you are both better off this way. I often wondered if you would ever be able to overcome your mutual animosity, and wondered if so, if you would not end up being very good friends. You are more alike than you realized then – though I am quite sure that you have by now.” His eyes twinkled at Harry again. Harry smiled. “Yes,” was all he said. “It is fairly serious, then?” Harry looked at his hands. “Yes,” he said again. “Yes, it’s… it’s very serious, sir.” He met Dumbledore’s eyes. “We’re in love. We love each other. We want to stay together.” Dumbledore nodded, and though he was not smiling now, the light glancing off his piercing blue gaze was very bright. “Yes. I can see that,” he murmured, almost more to himself. Louder, he went on. “It would be right for that to happen,” he said firmly. Harry was surprised. “You think so? Sir?” “Oh, yes,” Dumbledore assured him. “Yes, I think you would do each other very well. Now. The other thing I wanted to talk about. Draco Malfoy.” “What about him?” “I am aware that you and he have become friends,” Dumbledore said. “Well, yes, and Ron and Hermione, too.” “Naturally,” Dumbledore smiled gravely. “Of course. Has Draco talked to you lately?” “Yes. Well, the night before yesterday,” Harry said. “Has he talked to you yet?” “Yes,” Dumbledore answered, watching him intently. “Did he tell you that he plans to join the Order and fight with us?” “Yes,” Harry said, wondering where this was going. Surely Draco had not changed his mind. He didn’t think he could stand it if he did. It would sting somehow, very deeply. It would be just as awful if Ron or Hermione turned – but he could never imagine them doing such a thing, he had never had reason not to trust either of them. But Draco was another matter. Harry did not want to be disappointed in him. “It’s alright, Harry,” Dumbledore said calmly, clearly gauging Harry’s sudden doubts. “He told me the same thing. Do you trust him?” Did he trust him? Malfoy. Harry had to think about that. “We’ve only been friends for a few days now,” he said cautiously. Dumbledore waved this aside. “But you have formed an opinion, a judgement, by now.” “I – I think so,” Harry said uncertainly. “I mean, I want to. I’m not totally sure that I do yet, but I’d really like to be able to.” He gave it some more thought. He had talked to Draco about his relationship with Severus with as much – actually more ease than with Ron, even though he knew Draco knew about it already. Harry felt confident that the Slytherin would not betray his trust either of the times they had talked about it. And then, the other night, by the lake, Harry had had no doubts about telling Draco about the fight, or talking about it with him. It was almost easier to talk to him because he knew Severus better than Ron or Hermione, by far. And yet. Should he trust him so readily? Dumbledore was watching him keenly. “I trust him, Harry,” he said. “I just wanted to see how you felt about it. I know that it must be difficult, considering your personal history with him, and of course with his father. I was very curious when I sensed your animosity dying away, almost since the very beginning of the year. I wondered if Draco might be changing.” “I think he has definitely changed a lot,” Harry said. “He’s not at all the same. I think he’s known for awhile that joining the Death Eaters would be really wrong, but he wasn’t sure how to get out of it safely, or whatever.” Dumbledore leaned back and finally took a sip of his tea. “He has not gotten out of it safely,” he said, his eyes still on Harry. “Of course, we will be doing our best to delay the moment when Lucius finds out. We are attempting to postpone that moment until June, when this school year ends. That is when Draco will officially join the Order, along with yourself and your friends.” “Will he be safe until then?” Harry wanted to know, still ignoring his own tea. “This is what I am less sure about,” Dumbledore said. “He tells me he is no longer welcome in Slytherin House, since befriending you and your friends.” “We – I befriended him, sir,” Harry confessed, feeling guilty. Dumbledore shook his head. “He would not have become friends with you if he had not wanted it already. Had it never occurred to you that he was extremely jealous of your close friendships with Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger?” “Well, yes, but not until just recently,” Harry admitted. Dumbledore smiled. “You see what I mean, then. I am uncertain as to what to do with him, to be honest. I don’t think he needs further isolation; he is quite adept at isolating himself without my help, and I don’t think it is particularly good for him. Would he be welcome in Gryffindor House, do you think?” “Actually,” said Harry, though trying to imagine Draco’s elegant and expensive things in the messy seventh-year Gryffindor boys’ dorm (littered about with Chudley Canons, West Ham Football League and Gryffindor House quidditch colours and themes, not to mention all the socks), “Draco ate lunch and supper at the Gryffindor table yesterday, and people were really nice to him. They talked to him just a bit, not too much so that he’d be uncomfortable, but people welcomed him and stuff. That might not be a bad idea.” “Hmm. Well, I have asked him and Severus us in a few moments, so we’ll see how he feels about it then. There is another matter which I need to discuss with all three of you as well, so I’ll ask you to stay once they arrive.” There was a sound of footsteps outside the door. “Ah.” Dumbledore rose and opened the door, and Harry caught the nanosecond-long look of surprise on Severus’ face before was replaced by the usual I-should-have-known look. Severus came in and sat down on a chair next to Harry, dragging it slightly closer than was absolutely necessary. Draco followed, looking small and somehow vulnerable. To Harry’s surprise, Severus took his hand, lacing their fingers together, though his attention appeared to be on Draco and Dumbledore, who were exchanging low words. Then Draco dragged another chair forward and sat down on Harry’s other side, near the fire. He nodded quickly at Harry but didn’t say anything. “Hi,” Harry said back. “How’ve you been?” Draco shrugged. “Okay,” he said. “I’ve been hiding – or at least, that’s what he says,” he said, jerking his pointed chin toward Severus. A glint of a smile was tugging at his mouth. “And have you been?” Harry asked directly. Draco shrugged again, more elaborately. “Sort of. I just wanted some more time to think on my own.” He looked at Harry, who nodded, understanding. “Now.” Dumbledore took his seat again. “First things first. Draco, I seem to recall that we left the matter of where you are going to live for the remainder of the year for another day. It has become another day. I have just been talking to Harry, and he seems to feel that you would be made welcome in Gryffindor House. What are your feelings on this matter?” Draco looked at the old man’s lined face. “Would I be re-sorted?” he asked. Harry marvelled privately at the fact that this was the first question he asked. “I think not,” Dumbledore said, frowning slightly. “However, there is a simple way to determine that.” He stood and brought the Sorting Hat down. He handed it to Draco, who hesitated, then slipped it onto his head. After a moment, he silently took it off and gave it back. “Well?” Dumbledore asked. “It – it said I could be either,” Draco said, looking at the carpet. “It said that being in Gryffindor would help me on the way to greatness, but that it was my choice.” Harry glanced at Dumbledore, who gave him a small smile, and then at Severus, whom he’d told about his own experience with the Sorting Hat back in first year. Severus had a knowing look on his face, slightly amused. “Harry?” Dumbledore said. Harry realized he was being prompted. “That’s what it said to me, in our first year,” he told Draco. “It said that Slytherin would help me on the way to greatness, but that if I was sure I wanted Gryffindor, it would put me there, and it did.” Draco looked at him, impressed. “I didn’t know that!” he said. Harry shrugged. “I wasn’t very proud of it at first, especially given the events of our second year.” Draco remembered. What a git he’d been that year, too. He shuddered slightly, and looked at Harry squarely. “Do you want me in your dorm?” he asked pointedly. “Would the rest of them?” Harry shrugged again. “Well, Dean and Seamus and Ron are all decent to you, and as long as you’re nice to Neville, he’ll be nice back. I’m not sure how much you’d have in common with them – our room is filled mostly with sports stuff – and socks,” he added, throwing a quick look at Severus, who rolled his eyes, though he didn’t take his fingers out of Harry’s. “But you’d be safe and they’d be nice to you. I’m sure of that.” “Draco?” Dumbledore prompted, when Draco was silent. He looked up from his pale, twisting hands. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Do you feel alright about it, Draco?” Severus asked, leaning forward to see past Harry. “I feel fairly good about it, actually,” Draco said. “Harry’s right, they are being nice to me. They would probably try pretty hard, despite whatever differences we might have. Have had,” he amended. “And I don’t really need any more time alone.” Harry and Dumbledore exchanged the briefest of fleeting looks, both impressed with Draco’s self-perception. “Good, then,” the Headmaster said briskly. “It seems that that is settled. You may move in immediately. I will arrange for another bed and drawers straightaway. This brings us to a more serious matter, which is that of your safety, Draco.” Draco was silent again. Severus looked at him worriedly. “Draco. You should be okay here. You know that, do you not?” Draco nodded. “I’ll stay here for Christmas,” he said quietly. He looked at Harry. “You usually stay, don’t you?” Harry hesitated. True, he did usually stay, but for the last two years, he had gone to Grimmauld Place. Surely Dumbledore would let Draco come? He looked at the Headmaster, who nodded. “Actually,” he said, “last year we went to Gr – ” a feeling like a hand clamping over his mouth overcame him, and Harry recognized the effects of the Fidelius Charm, which would not allow anyone but Dumbledore (the Secret Keeper) reveal the location of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix – “to where the Order hangs out,” he said instead. “You can come there with us.” “Who else will be there?” “Oh, you can probably guess. The Weasleys, well, not Percy, but the rest of them, Lupin, me, Ron, Hermione, Tonks – she’s an Auror, you probably don’t know her – sometimes Dumbledore, when he’s around, other people like that.” Harry looked at Severus, who nodded, too. “And Severus,” he added. “Okay,” Draco said again. “In the mean time,” Dumbledore resumed, “there is a war beginning. Severus tells me that you know about the Prophecy, so you surely understand Harry’s role in this matter. He will need his friends, though, and you, Draco, have a great deal of talent and skill. Because of this, and also because you will be an especial target of the Death Eaters yourself come June, I would like for you, Harry, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger to start some extra Defense and duelling training in preparation. Professor Snape – ” Dumbledore’s eyes turned to Severus, flickered down to his and Harry’s joined hands – “and Professor Lupin will be overseeing your training, as well as myself from time to time. For the duration of the year, Professor Snape will still act as your Head of House, perhaps along with Professor McGonagall – yes, I think that is best – and, of course, your godfather. Do you have any questions?” Draco was silent for a moment, trying to digest all of this. He looked up, his light eyes catching the firelight. “What if Lucius finds out?” he asked quietly. Dumbledore looked grave. “We will count on him not finding out,” he said, “but if that should happen, I can assure you my protection, Draco. You will also have people around you more often now – and Gryffindors are generally quite trustworthy,” he added. “Professors Snape and McGonagall will also keep their eyes out for you, and so, I am sure, will Harry and his friends. Are you afraid?” “A little,” Draco said, but he looked at Harry with wide, guileless eyes. “I trust you,” he said. Harry smiled, squeezing Severus’ fingers. “I trust you, too,” he said. “Good, both of you,” Dumbledore said approvingly. “Now. Your training will begin on Monday evening, in Professor Lupin’s classroom. Harry, I will expect you to pass this on to Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. If anyone asks the three of you what you are doing, you are to say – ” “Remedial Potions?” Harry blurted, grinning, not able to hold it back. Severus laughed loudly, and Dumbledore chuckled, too. “What?” asked Draco, looking from one to another, confused. “Why is that so funny?” “That is what Harry was told to say when he was studying Occlumency with me in your fifth year,” Severus explained to him. “He was not permitted to say.” A look of comprehension dawned on the Slytherin’s face. “Ohhhh,” he said. “I remember that! I – never mind,” he added, clearly having been about to add a remembrance that might have come across as quite rude. “Don’t worry,” Harry said quickly. “It was a good line, since I was hopeless at Potions.” “Indeed, you were,” Severus drawled, in a fairly good imitation of his old sneering tone. “Well, I can see how your interest level changed,” Draco drawled straight back at Harry, looking pointedly at their hands. Harry just smiled serenely, feeling Severus’ grasp tighten rather than pull away. “I’m glad you understand,” he said, sounding snarky. “So, what are we supposed to tell people? We’re good at everything now!” “Just say that it is extra lessons,” Dumbledore instructed. “That is very much the truth in any case. Monday night at eight o’clock. Is that alright? Good. You may go, all of you.” He gave them a warm smile and they got to their feet, Severus letting Draco and Harry go by first. At the bottom of the stairs, Draco checked a nearby clock. “Our second class is nearly over now, too,” he said. “What should we do now?” “I suggest you both go to lunch early,” Severus said, before Harry could respond. “I see no point in disrupting a class this late at any rate. I will see you both in Potions later on.” “Okay,” Harry and Draco both said. Severus leaned forward and kissed Harry on the cheek, turned and was gone. Draco smirked at Harry. “Ah, young love,” he said, pretending to swoon. “What a beautiful thing.” “Don’t I know it,” Harry said, shoving Draco playfully into a wall. “Ow! Leave me alone! Save that for your snog-sessions!” Draco grinned, pulling himself off the wall. “I do,” Harry grinned back. “Okay, grossed out now, don’t say anything else or you’ll ruin my appetite!” Draco ran forward so as to avoid Harry’s next hit. “Git!” Harry shouted, laughing. “Why are you so happy all of a sudden?” Draco shrugged. “I guess I’m glad I’m moving in with you guys,” he said. “The Slytherin dorms never really had that homey, Gryffindor-y feel to them that yours always sounded like they did. I think it might be fun. And I’m relieved I’ve made up my mind at last. Dumbledore made me see that I actually won’t be nearly as alone as before, and I’ll probably be safer this way anyway.” Harry hadn’t realized this, but it made sense. “Oh. Okay, then, let’s go to lunch. I’m hungry.” On their way into the Great Hall, Harry and Draco noticed Cho Chang heading outdoors with her broomstick. “Hey, Harry, why’s she’s still here?” Draco asked. “I always wondered. Did she fail seventh year last year? I thought you might know.” Harry shot him a Look, but said, “No, she didn’t fail, exactly, but she didn’t get any NEWT’s at all, and apparently her parents were quite upset, so they sent her back.” Draco snorted. “Works out nicely for Ravenclaw in terms of quidditch, though, doesn’t it?” “Yeah. Bitch,” Harry said forcefully, as a joke. Draco laughed. “Well, you or I will stomp her into the ground, won’t we?” He considered this. “If my team doesn’t stomp me into the ground in the showers or something.” “Hmm,” Harry said. “Dumbledore didn’t mention quidditch, did he? I mean, I guess you’re still going to the same classes and everything, so I guess you still get to play quidditch on their team. Well, you’re a way better Seeker than ever of them could be, so they’ll probably leave you alone just for that reason.” Draco nodded. It made sense. After lunch, which Draco ate at the Gryffindor table again (to a few raised eyebrows, but no comments other than a few “hi”’s), Harry told Ron and Hermione about their training session on Monday night. As he’d expected, they were both pleased and excited to be included, and very pleased about Draco’s decision. Hermione surprised them all by running after Draco, where he’d turned off to go to Astronomy, and throwing her arms around him. Luckily, there was no one else around. Draco went very pink, but looked quite pleased and actually hugged her back – muggle-born blood and all. Things had changed, and Harry was happy. He practically skipped as he, Ron and Hermione made their way down the hall, bickering jokingly about Hermione and Draco’s hug, which, in Ron’s opinion, had lasted far too long. He was kidding, though, to Harry’s devout relief – Ron jealous was not something he ever wanted to see – and they made it to class without further incident. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine Chapter 17: Christmas Harry woke up on his side, wondering where he was. He opened his eyes and looked blearily around. Where was he? It didn’t look familiar. He patted around for his glasses. “You know, that is really just too cute,” a voice drawled from behind him, causing Harry to nearly jump out of his skin. He whipped himself around, still glasses-less. “Severus!” “You were expecting someone else?” The drawl was still there, which likely only meant one thing. But Harry wasn’t going to give in just yet. “No,” he said, adding “git,” absently, still trying to recall recent events that would put him somewhere that was neither his bed in Gryffindor Tower nor Severus’ bed. Then the familiar, musty, old smell hit his senses and he remembered. “We’re at Grimmauld Place,” he said at last. “Bravo,” said Severus, clapping his hands sarcastically. “You’d be confused, too, if you kept waking up in a different bed every other night!” “And it’s my fault, that I’m so irresistible, is it?” Severus made a play of examining his fingernails. “Besides,” he added, “I doubt you’ve slept in Gryffindor Tower since about November sometime.” Harry grinned, though still squinting blurrily. “Naps count.” “Not really.” “Well then, it is your fault for being so bloody irresistible.” Harry drew a very light line down Severus’ chest, down to his navel, which he circled, touched lightly, then continued. The blankets were in the way. No matter. He let his finger trail below the blanket where they touched… Severus’ boxers. “I’m insulted,” Harry told him. Severus had hardly been breathing. Now he exhaled loudly. “For what?” “Sleeping in my bed and not being naked,” Harry said, pretending to pout, though he couldn’t keep it up – it dissolved into a grin. He was terrible at trying to pout. “First of all, Mr. Potter,” Severus said, in that low, dangerous voice that Harry so loved to hear, “this is my bed. Technically, or at least as far as Molly knows, you share a room with Ron one floor down. You chose to join me, which means that I can wear whatever I want.” “I chose to join you?” Harry repeated incredulously, fingering Severus’ left nipple. “Yeah, sure, if ‘choosing’ is the same as being dragged bodily up three flights of stairs, stripped bare and shagged senseless!” Severus smiled widely. “It had been a long time.” “Yeah, a whole four days,” Harry snorted, though he had to admit, he’d been dying for it, too. The past month and a half had been nothing but classes, training, quidditch, more training, classes, and so forth. Obviously, Harry had not allowed this to interfere with his nightly visits, which were fast becoming simply nights, period, with Severus, but the penalty was that he was extremely tired much of the time. Finally, during the tests right before Christmas break, Harry had actually been too tired for sex. For the first time in his life. He’d held Severus off (who was perfectly understanding), saying that in four days the term would be over, they’d be at Grimmauld Place and could shag themselves blue in the face for the entire break. Severus had agreed quite readily, let Harry study and drift off in his arms. And then they’d arrived, been overly fussed over by Molly Weasley, traded jokes and stories with the twins, whom Harry hadn’t seen since summer, all while Severus had hung back and tried to pretend that he had nothing better to do than be there, because otherwise he certainly didn’t want to be staying. Ron and Hermione, though understanding the need, felt badly for him and had tried to include him, but he brushed off their attempts, subtly letting them know that it was better to simply leave him out for the time being. Harry had felt it and resented the silliness of it all, and wanted not much more than to rush straight upstairs with Severus. All through dinner (they sat across from one another), Harry had had to remind himself not to just sit there and stare at Severus, drown in his dark eyes, but seek out others in conversation, talk to Lupin about the Defense lessons. Draco he didn’t have to worry about. Draco had been amazing over the past weeks. He’d finally opened himself up and really let himself be friends with Ron and Hermione. He’d settled into Gryffindor just fine; as Harry predicted, the other three and Ron were fine to him, and Draco was polite about the mess, the silly sports paraphernalia, and even the socks. He simply kept his own things as neat as possible, and, unbelievably, the others started being a little cleaner, too. Draco didn’t spend much time in the dorm itself, but he could often be found in the common room, often soliciting others’ company. Harry had never realized that Draco was such a chess freak – and he was good enough to give Ron a run for his money, which was great. Harry had never been much good at chess, and was glad to have a reason to give it up, and Ron was thrilled to have someone good enough to challenge him to play with. Hardly a spare hour went by that Ron and Draco didn’t have the chess set out, arguing over whose set they would use this time, while Hermione looked on or read nearby. But after dinner had been another story. Severus had lurked downstairs, talking to Lupin, Arthur, Molly and Tonks, while Harry ostensibly settled into “his” room. Harry had basically gone up, put his basic things down, then went upstairs to the room Molly had indicated was to be Severus’ and put his more important things away there. Impatient, he went back down to wait in his and Ron’s room. He had just reached the landing outside their door when he heard footsteps ascending the stairs in front of him. The ghostly face of his lover emerged from the gloom of the stairwell. For a moment, Severus just stood there, watching Harry from two steps below the landing. Then they ran at one another, mouths attacking, hands scrabbling wildly, legs twisting together. Ron had chosen that precise moment to open the bedroom door, where Draco and Hermione were sitting on “Harry’s” bed, their faces agape. “Oh, mother of Merlin, get a room!” Ron had groaned, looking both horrified and disgusted. “That’s the general idea,” Severus had panted, and seized Harry, half-pulling, half-dragging him up the next staircase. Harry had felt like his legs had turned to water from sheer desire anyway, so this was probably a good thing. Now Severus smiled again. “Four days too long,” he said. “That must have been a record for us.” His fingers began to draw soft patterns on Harry hip bone, little circles and lines. Harry shivered. “And I’ve not had nearly enough of it yet.” Harry gave his a lazy smile, though his eyes were going hazy already. Although perhaps that was the lack of glasses thing. “Where are my glasses?” he asked, slurring. “I took them off you last night so they wouldn’t get broken. They’re over on the dresser. Do you want them? Because I’m just going to be taking them off again right away.” Harry laughed softly. “Better leave them,” he agreed. He pulled himself up so that he could look down on Severus. “You know,” he said, his voice still soft, pausing to suck at the nipple he’d been fingering, “I do believe that it’s my turn.” Severus raised his eyebrows, apparently thinking. “Well… I suppose it was me who went last,” he admitted. “It’s hard to keep count.” “In general, or just last night?” “Just last night,” Severus laughed. He raised his arms above his head in the helpless, sexy pose that Harry got off on so much, let his legs fall open. “Take me, love,” he said. “I’m all yours.” “That’s what I want to hear,” Harry said in a low, predatory tone of voice. He took his wand from the night table beside him, pointed it at Severus’ boxers and vanished them. It was an art he’d perfected. He looked around, but before he could ask, Severus silently handed him the small bottle of lube from the night table on his side of the bed. Harry took it just as silently and poured out a liberal amount, rubbing it in his hands and onto his aching erection. Merlin, one would think he had gone for months without sex, not just eight hours. He pushed Severus’ pale, firmly muscled legs upward, looked him straight in the eye, and slowly entered him. Severus maintained his silence, but shuddered at the touch. He did not break the eye contact. Harry placed one finger over his mouth, silently instruction him to stay silent. They did this sometimes, just for fun. It made things more intense. Harry pulled himself out slightly, then entered again, harder. Then another, deeper, deep enough to brush against that sensitive spot inside his lover. Who let out just a bit too much air with his exhale, shuddering again, hands digging into Harry’s hip bones. Harry pushed in again, and began to move faster. Severus’ breath was leaving him in little explosions. Harry’s was, too. He drove in deep, all the way, pushing against that place that made Severus writhe, as he always did for Harry, as Harry always did for him. A tiny hint of growl came out with this exhale. Severus was trembling with the effort of staying silent. Harry picked up speed, and had to fight to keep from howling from the sheer intensity of the pleasure that was spreading sweetly all through him, making his toes curl, his fingertips tingle. Severus’ erection was rubbing along Harry’s hard abdomen, hard as anything, and crimson, and Harry crunched himself over far enough to suck it, just once. Severus’ nails dug little circles into Harry’s back, breaking the skin. The pain was almost enough to send Harry through the ceiling with ecstasy. Harry did it again, and Severus gasped and came hard. Harry took that particular moment to drive one more hard shot to Severus’ prostate and let himself go over the edge, wanting to scream from the fury of pleasure consuming his every nerve. He collapsed against Severus, panting and sweaty, and Severus pressed him to his chest, pinning him there with his arms. “Sweet Merlin, that was amazing,” Harry breathed. “I had no idea you were that flexible,” Severus said. “I think I’m seeing stars.” “Don’t tell me that’s the first time!” “It isn’t.” Severus kissed Harry’s forehead firmly, with tongue. “How long do you think before we’re hard again? I want to see if I can do that.” Needless to say, they did not make it down to breakfast. By the time they did make it down, both of them walking a bit stiffly for the first time in some time, both their faces were sucked and bitten raw. Harry touched his top lip gingerly, wishing he knew a spell to make the swelling go down. He made a mental note to himself to punish Severus for doing that to him while they were staying here. They entered the kitchen, where Draco, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were eating lunch. Hermione turned bright red, and the tips of Ron’s ears were glowing. Even Draco looked a bit embarrassed, and he did not embarrass easily when it came to the sex lives of others. Thank the skies above it was just them. Ginny knew by now; Hermione had told her. She had seemed completely unfazed by it. “Good morning,” said Ron. “I think you mean good afternoon,” Severus said, not missing a beat. His voice held that undeniable trace of morning-after smugness. If it got any worse, Harry bet he’d develop a strut to go with it. “Oh, Merlin,” Ron groaned to the others, “listen to how pleased with himself he sounds!” If Severus was surprised by this sudden lack of formality, he didn’t let it show. He was more interested in lunch. Harry just grinned at them, still marvelling at what a tension-reliever that was. He felt great. “He’s clearly no better,” Hermione said. “Look at that afterglow, would you? Honestly!” “Never mind the afterglow, look at his lips!” Ginny practically shrieked. Ron looked, and groaned again. To everyone’s surprise, he then looked at Severus and said, “I really hate to think that you’re responsible for that. I’ve always tried to avoid the mental images, but after yesterday, I have no choice!” Severus merely smiled, not looking at all abashed. “Perhaps you should learn to keep your door closed,” was all he said. “Yeah, I guess,” Ron said, grinning back by way of apology. “So, Harry, are you actually staying in that room at all?” “No,” Harry replied. “Only if your mother – or father – or the twins – or anyone else asks.” “Harry, are we still the only people who know about you guys?” Ginny asked. Harry thought. “Dumbledore,” said Severus. “Right, Dumbledore,” said Harry, nodding. They all nodded, including Draco, who already knew, of course. “So, does that mean you’ll take the rest of your stuff out of our room?” Ron continued. He grinned wickedly. “I mean, I realize you were otherwise occupied last night – which is, by the way, perfectly understandable, we’ve had exams, it’s good stress release.” Hermione glared at him. “ – or so I’ve heard,” he added lamely. Ginny looked revolted. “Gross,” she said. “I quite agree, Ginny,” Severus said, looking quite revolted himself. “Though I am hardly in a position to say so.” “Like you just didn’t,” Draco snorted. “Ewwww… now you’re talking about positions,” Ron moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Did you just call me Ginny?” Ginny asked Severus, looking very confused. “Yes. And – ” Severus glanced at Harry, who nodded and smiled encouragingly, “ – I think, while we’re here, on holiday, you should all just call me Severus. I would feel really strange if you referred to me as your professor in this situation.” “Sure, Sev,” Draco shrugged. After all, he’d been calling his godfather by his given name for years. Severus gave him an annoyed look. “Not ‘Sev’, or anything else as stupid as that. ‘Severus’. And that hardly applies to you, anyway, Draco.” “Fine, Professor,” Draco grinned. Severus gave him a death glare. “Whoa! Sorry! Not the death glare!” They were all laughing. Harry felt completely relaxed. Exams were over, he and Severus were together for their first Christmas, and all his best friends were here. Though he shuddered to think how much fun the twins would have once they found out about the relationship. Good thing they weren’t going to know until after the war, or so they all hoped. Every single person there appreciated the fact that Fred and George must not, under any circumstances, find out about Harry and Snape. “Severus,” said Ron experimentally, sounding doubtful. “Well, I guess that’s what we’ll be calling you after another five months, anyway. Why not.” Severus smiled. It was looking like a good Christmas for him, too. Luckily, Molly was, though extremely kind, not particularly keen on that particular uptake, clearly had no idea that Hermione was planning to share Ron’s room until returning to school (as she likely shared his bed at school anyway, this came as a surprise to no one). In his current romantic mood, Severus wondered idly if the stars had designs on putting Draco and Ginny Weasley together. Not that he even knew if Draco was straight; it was impossible to tell with the boy. Well, he’d become a different person – a better version of the old shell of himself that he had been presenting to the world for the past seventeen years – so maybe he’d open up about that now, too. Time, clearly, would tell. Meanwhile, Harry was saying to Draco, “Don’t mind him, he’s just mad because it turns out he’s not quite as flexible as me.” Draco grinned while Ron groaned. Severus gave Harry his patented death glare, and growled, “Oh, boy, Potter, you are going to pay for that later. You are really going to be sorry you said that!” “Bad mental images, bad mental images,” Ron was muttering, rocking back and forth slightly. Hermione leaned over and whispered something in his ear, something which seemed to take quite some time, but which made Ron look suddenly very happy again. He got up very quickly. “Well,” he said abruptly, “that was lovely. See you all soon.” He grabbed Hermione by the wrist and practically dragged her off the bench, and they scrambled upstairs, giggling madly. “Clearly they liked your use of the term ‘flexible’, Harry,” Draco commented. “So it would seem,” Harry replied, grinning at Ginny for no reason at all. She looked at him, then looked at Draco. Hmm. He suspected that, despite all odds and appearances, that Draco was actually straight. Maybe. Ginny had grown very pretty during her six years at Hogwarts, and as Draco was particularly sensitive to aesthetics, perhaps it could work. Perhaps he should try to get them together. He felt he owed her that much, as she’d liked him so long, and then he’d not only not liked her when he still thought he liked girls, but then it turned out that he liked boys, anyway. Double insult. Well, not boys so much as men, or man, in particular. Harry also noticed that things had grown suddenly very quiet at the table. Draco was looking at Ginny, looking like he was trying to say something, or perhaps waiting for them to be alone to say it. Harry couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen the possibility before today. Brilliant, Potter, brilliant. He took Severus’ hand. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go outside or something. Let’s go to Diagon Alley and do our Christmas shopping.” “Okay,” Severus said readily, and allowed himself to be pulled up. He was lucky he hadn’t broken a rib, before, and he was feeling a bit stiff now. Note to self, he thought, thirty-seven-year-old men who have previously not been sexually active for the past thirty-six-and-a-half years should not go attempting stunts that their accursedly flexible seventeen-year-old lovers did. “You owe me a drink,” he said bitterly. “Come on, love,” Harry said teasingly. “You can show me where all the restricted potions are sold, and we’ll have some fun.” Severus closed the door behind them. * * * “What are you thinking about?” Draco asked finally, breaking the long silence that had followed those damnably cheerful lovers. Wonderful. He was trapped in a house surrounded by four frivolously fucking people on holiday. It wasn’t really that bad. Just his inner snark-a-logue talking. But back to the point. He was alone in the room with Ginny, and suddenly inexplicably nervous. Why wasn’t she talking? Should he be saying something? “I was just thinking,” she said at long last, “about how much you’ve changed.” Draco dropped his eyes self-consciously. He had changed a lot. He hardly recognized himself, in fact – which was good, it was all good – but some days he felt he hardly knew who he was any more. Though, since he’d hated who he’d been, there was no telling how it could go from here. He was still, saints be praised, still as snarky as he’d ever been – which, oddly enough, made him strangely popular amongst the Gryffindors – but without the mean streak. “Is that good?” he asked. Ginny studied him. “I was remembering how you used to call me the Weaselette.” Draco turned furiously red at this. He had forgotten that completely. “I forgot about that,” he muttered, looking away. “I’m sorry, Ginny. Why didn’t you say something before?” “Before when?” “Before now!” “Because you were a prat then,” Ginny said defensively. “No, I mean, like, last month or something!” Ginny shrugged, looking self-conscious. “It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly. “You’re different now, it’s okay.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah, I’m sure.” Suddenly Ginny laughed. “It’s going to be a riot over Christmas here, eh? With four people madly shagging everywhere.” “Yet somehow attempting discretion,” Draco laughed, too, “and trying to keep it all from your mother!” “Well, they managed in summer,” Ginny said, “though if Harry and Snape were as – as enthusiastic then, they certainly used good silencing charms. I didn’t even know about it until about a month ago.” “You didn’t?” Draco wondered at this. Harry must be very good at keeping secrets if he’d managed to keep this one from Ginny all this time. Then again, they were all sure that she didn’t know what they were doing on Monday nights, either. “Nope. Ron says it started at the beginning of August, here.” “This is where they got together,” Draco breathed, realizing. “That is so strange. And they managed for a month without anyone finding out.” “Well, apparently Dumbledore was making them have meetings to get over the hate thing, and apparently they went quite well.” “Right from the start?” Draco could hear his own incredulity. Ginny nodded. “That’s what Ron said Harry said. It started out tense and then they talked seriously, you know, about Harry’s dad and his friends and all that, and then, suddenly, they were snogging.” “And then shagging?” “No, they apparently managed to hold off on that until their third meeting,” said Ginny, rolling her eyes and smiling. “Oh, pardon me,” Draco said, mirroring her. “I guess all that hostility over the years was just pent-up desire.” “Yeah, I guess so,” Ginny said. “Well, they hadn’t… for at least three or four days at the end of term there,” Draco said. “No wonder they were practically biting their nails off during dinner yesterday.” “Oh, I know!” Ginny exclaimed. “You could practically feel the air pulsating between them.” Draco laughed. “I guess it went really fast partly because of the war and everything. You know. Harry. The Prophecy.” “Yeah,” said Ginny, growing sober. “Not knowing if either of them are going to live through it and all that.” “Because it’s not just shagging,” Draco told her, “they’re really, really in love. They’re both kind of restless if the other one’s not around, and they had a fight once, and I talked to Harry just after it, and he was totally miserable. Once he realized he’d been a git, though, he couldn’t wait to get back with Snape.” “He made up with him the same night?!” Ginny sounded amazed. “Yep. I saw him going to the apartment.” “Weird,” Ginny said. “Yeah. But they mean it. I know they want to stay together after the war, if there is an ‘after the war’.” “Do you think they’d get married?” “Oh, I think so. Probably, yeah. I can’t even imagine either of them with anyone else any more.” Draco got up and made some tea, boiling the kettle instantly – a neat little trick he’d learned from Lupin. “Want some tea?” “Love some.” “Gin,” Draco said, his back to her as he made the tea, “can I ask you something?” “Sure.” “You and Neville… are you in an on-again or an off-again thing right now?” Draco turned and brought the two steaming cups back to the table and took his seat across from her again. Ginny bit her lip and hesitated. The truth was, she didn’t really know. They’d fought last time they were together. Neville had been another one who’d changed dramatically. During his sixth year, he’d gotten drastically better at everything, taller, better-looking; he no longer wore glasses and his gran had gotten him a more powerful wand, by way of rewarding him for having survived the Death Eater confrontation in the Department of Mysteries that day, when Sirius died. They’d had this little thing going on ever since, but they fought a lot, and every time they fought, it seemed very much like the end of everything between them. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “Fight?” Draco asked simply. He knew. Of course he knew. He was terribly perceptive. To her horror, Ginny felt her eyes fill with tears. She clamped her hands firmly around the warm cup of tea, willing the tears not to spill over. She could not speak. “Gin!” Draco said softly. “I’m sorry, I should’nt have – ” Ginny shook her head fiercely; it was no good pretending anyway. The tears slipped down her face. “It’s okay,” she insisted. “I’m sorry, Draco, you ask me a simple question and I just fall apart. I – yeah, we had another fight, and I don’t really know what’s happening.” Draco patted her hand in an uncharacteristically gentle manner, even despite his change. “Don’t worry, Ginny, it’ll all work out. It always has before, hasn’t it? And I’m not going to hit on you,” he added. She looked up very suddenly at that, blushing in that transparent, Weasley way. “Just in case you were worried,” he explained. “Just because everyone else in this house is doesn’t mean we are or will or have to. Let’s be friends.” “O – okay,” Ginny said, hiccoughing. “That sounds good to me.” She smiled at him, and Draco smiled back. They drank their tea. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: don’t own what you recognize Chapter 18: New Year’s Eve The next two weeks were the best Harry had ever lived. The house had been free of all pestilence since the previous spring, which made living there a lot nicer. Also, there was no more house-cleaning to be done, and Mrs. Weasley’s feats of household magic were sufficient to the task of keeping things going. So, it was like something of a retreat with all of his favourite people. Except Dumbledore, who had not been able to join them even for Christmas. He had said something about trying to get there for New Year’s, though, and they were having a party, so Harry hoped he would try to make it. They had not invited many people, but a party was a party. The main people Harry wanted there were already there, anyway. Dumbledore, Moody, Tonks, Emmeline Vance, Kingsley Shacklebolt and his wife, Fred and George, who would no doubt bring Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet with them, Mundungus Fletcher, Bill and Charlie Weasley. Harry thanked all their lucky stars that Bill had broken up with Fleur Delacour the year before. All he needed was for her to turn up and start mesmerizing the entire room, possibility getting herself hexed into oblivion by Hermione. Though Harry had been watching Draco and Ginny hopefully, they seemed to be getting along very well, but nothing seemed to be happening. He reminded himself that most relationships didn’t happen as fast as his and Severus’, but that had been years in the making, they were both sure. Like Ron and Hermione, only more hostile than them at their worst. Of course, there was also the whole gay thing; Harry had to realize he was gay before it could happen. But Draco. Harry wondered. Was the Slytherin straight or gay? He just seemed so… neutral, somehow. No doubt it was part of the mask he still kept carefully over his finer feelings, despite his more relaxed and open exterior. Harry looked around. It was the afternoon of New Year’s Eve. He decided to go and see what Draco was doing. Severus, he knew, was in Diagon Alley buying new robes. Black, no doubt. Harry went in search, and found Draco by himself in the room everyone still called “Harry and Ron’s”, though it was really Ron and Hermione’s. The room across the hall, which was technically “Ginny and Hermione’s” was now just Ginny’s. Draco’s room was down the hall from Harry and Severus’ room. Luckily, Molly never came into the rooms, especially not Severus’, for if she had, she would have found Harry everywhere. Not just his belongings, but little personal effects, including a tiny, framed picture of him and Severus kissing, which they had gotten Hermione to take for them. The room downstairs was a public student room of sorts during the day. Harry went to look there first, and was not surprised to find Draco sitting on “his” bed (unoccupied), leafing through a muggle comic book with apparent bemusement. “Hi,” he said, coming in and settling himself on Ron’s bed. “What are you doing?” Draco shrugged. “Nothing, really. Waiting for the party.” Harry laughed. “It’s only two-thirty.” “So? Where’s Severus?” “Diagon Alley, buying new robes,” Harry said, rolling his eyes affectionately. “Want to bet thirty Galleons they’re black?” “No,” Draco shot back, “you can’t afford to lose it.” “Yes I can.” “No you can’t.” “Yes I can.” “Fine, you can. Stupid Potter inheritance,” Draco muttered. “Good thing he looks good in black.” “Potter, you would think he looked good in a tea-towel, house-elf style.” Harry envisioned it. “Ooh, and then I could free him, by giving him a thong or something, and then he’d be begging for ways to repay his debt to me – stop that,” he said, grinning, as Draco made exaggerated retching sounds and motions. “Remind me never, ever, to say anything like that to you again. Or anything else you might be able to make a sick, twisted fantasy with.” “Draco, can I ask you something?” “No thanks, Harry, I’m not really interested in a three-way with you and my godfather,” Draco drawled. “Shut up, you git, I’m serious.” “What?” Draco’s silver-grey eyes focussed on Harry. “What are you? Like, are you straight or gay? I’m just wondering.” Draco surveyed him calmly. “Why are you wondering?” “Pure curiosity.” “What if I told you I didn’t know?” “Are you serious?” Harry asked incredulously. Draco studied his fingernails calmly. “Damn, a snag,” he said, scowling. “Yes, I’m serious.” “Does no one do it for you, or everyone?” “More the first,” Draco said casually. “Although I used to think I had a crush on Ron, actually.” “On Ron?” “Sure, why not? He gets so cute when he’s mad.” “Do you still?” “No.” “Do you mean that, or do you mean no, as in, there’s no point because he’s straight and dating someone who is now also one of your best friends.” “Again, more the first.” Draco shifted, finding a more comfortable position for his back again the wall. “I just haven’t really been interested in anyone lately. Too cold, maybe. Too confused. I probably shouldn’t get into a romantic involvement with anyone, given my current mental state.” “You’re still confused?” “Well, not exactly confused,” Draco said, frowning slightly. “But it’s been a lot of change in a little while, you know? I’m not sure I know who I am. Not that I ever did, but now it seems to matter. I don’t want to hurt anyone.” “And you’re not even sure which gender is more to your liking?” “Actually,” Draco said, and it sounded like a confession, “I’m pretty sure I’m straight. I think I was trying to do the gay thing because I knew it would antagonize my father. That was, of course,” he added bitterly, “before I realized that even if I was really gay, if he ever found out, he’d Crucio me to death.” “Would he really?” Harry asked, remembering Severus’ reluctant confession about some of Lucius’ activities as a Death Eater. “You’d better believe it, Harry. I’ve heard rumours from my father’s friends, and I know what he’s done, but that wouldn’t change it. An openly gay son. What a blow to the Malfoy pride. That’s probably half why I tried to force it on myself.” “But now…?” Draco sighed. “Now I’m just not sure. I mean, I think I’m straight, but it’s not something I lie awake worrying about. It just doesn’t really matter.” Harry looked at his friend, feeling sad. He wished there was a way he could express how much love had made his life better without it sounding corny or patronizing. But he did have another question. “What about Ginny?” he asked quietly. “What about her?” Draco was extremely non-committal, the thumbnail of his left hand picking at the tiny tear in the thumbnail of his right hand. “You seem to get along really well.” “So. I get along with you and Ron and Hermione really well, too, and I’m not fucking any of you.” Harry gave him a Look. “Draco,” he said. “You know what I mean. She’s sweet, she’s really pretty, she’s very talented, you’ve seemed to be spending a lot of time with her – although I guess that could just be by default, sorry – but she’s also – ” “In love with Neville,” Draco supplied. His voice sounded a bit dull, and he stopped picking at his thumbnail. “What? I thought that was over,” Harry said. He hadn’t thought Neville would still be in the way of his scheme. “Well, they had a fight. You know they always get back together again. And besides, she still has feelings for him. She cried when I asked her about them.” Draco bit at the thumbnail, apparently trying to see if he could smooth the tear with his teeth. “Oh,” Harry said, feeling both disappointed and sad for Draco. Somehow, he suspected that the other had already considered the question of Ginny in some depth. “But you like her?” Draco fidgeted. “I think so,” he said finally. “At first I thought maybe I just liked her because she was like, well, not really I mean, but sort of, you know…” “The female version of Ron?” “Yeah, something like that. But she’s not, she’s totally different, and – and I like her more than I ever liked Ron,” Draco mumbled, cheeks flushing. Now his delicate fingers picked at his robes. Harry felt intensely sorry for him. All the rest of it, plus this. “Well, frankly, Draco, I don’t know if Ginny and I view men the same way, but if we do, she has to see that you’re a much better catch than Neville.” “He’s a Gryffindor. And they have history.” “So? You’re building your own history with her right now. And you’re practically a Gryffindor now, anyway. I don’t really think that Neville’s mature enough to sustain a relationship of the kind of magnitude that Ginny would need, that’s why it’s not working,” Harry said. “Prove yourself to her.” “How am I supposed to do that?” Draco demanded. “I just told her, at the beginning of the holidays, that I wasn’t going to hit on her and that we could just be friends.” “Well, that was silly, now wasn’t it?” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “Just try and see, okay?” “Harry.” Draco’s voice was quiet. “What?” “Do you really think she’d ever – ever go for me, of all people? I mean, why not Seamus or Dean or someone? A Ravenclaw?” “First off, she’s dated all the worthwhile Ravenclaws, plus a few non-worthwhile ones as well, she’s already dated Dean, plus he’s with Parvati now, anyway, Seamus is just a whore, and, as far as decent guys go, you’re the next most logical choice.” Draco still looked unconvinced, so Harry went on. “And come, you’re really hot, talented, smart. She’d be a fool not to.” Draco snorted. “You think I’m hot?” “In a small, blond sort of way, yes,” Harry said casually. “Not really my type, though. You know I prefer tall, dark, and – ” “Spare me,” Draco interrupted. “I really don’t need the imagery. Okay. I’ll think about it.” “Follow your heart,” Harry said, knowing Draco would probably hit him for it. Strangely, though, his friend was quiet. “That’s what Severus told me, too,” he said. “You’ve talked to him about Ginny?” Harry asked disbelievingly. “No, about the choosing Dumbledore’s side thing,” Draco said. He gave Harry a pointed look. “The Death Eater thing, remember?” “Oh, that,” Harry said. “Well, it’s good advice. I mean, I didn’t even think I liked him as a human being when we first kissed, and all I could think about was, holy mother of Merlin, I’m kissing Snape, and rather enjoying it. What the fuck is happening to me? And then I realized it was so much easier just to go with it. I was obviously enjoying it, so why not? And it’s been the best decision I’ve made yet.” Draco was watching him curiously. “Did you at least know you were gay then, or did that just make itself evident right that moment?” “No, that I knew,” Harry assured him. He laughed. “Yeah, that would have been a lot to deal with at once!” “Harry?” they heard Severus’ voice call, coming up the stairs. “Speak of the devil,” Draco said. “Hey, when are you two going to go public with your relationship?” “As soon as I’m done school, you git,” Harry said back. “I’m in here!” he called. Then he added, for Draco’s benefit, “Well, as far as public-public goes, not until after Voldemort’s gone. I can’t put him in danger that way.” Draco nodded, and the door opened. “There you are,” Severus said. “Didn’t you hear me? I answered,” Harry said. “Did you get your new robes?” “Yes,” Severus responded, giving Harry a suspicious look. “Don’t even say anything!” Draco closed his mouth and exchanged a look with Harry, grinning. “Well, good thing Harry likes you in black,” was all he said. Severus glared at Draco and Harry both. “Oh, does he, now?” he said to Draco. Draco nodded serenely. “So he says.” “Actually,” said Harry, pretending to examine the pattern on Ron’s blanket, “I really prefer flesh-tones on you. The natural kind,” he added innocently. “Insolent boy.” Severus sat down beside him, leaving his packages in the hallway. “Yeah, well, what are you going to do about it?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. “And that’s my cue to leave,” Draco said dryly, getting quickly to his feet. “No – Draco, don’t, it’s alright,” Harry said in a rush. He felt bad, having come to find Draco and then making him feel left out in the room he’d been in first. “No, it’s fine,” he said, waving off Harry’s concern. “I was actually just thinking of going and seeing what Ginny’s up to anyway. You boys go and have fun.” Draco flashed them a wicked grin and departed. Severus smiled wolfishly at Harry. He grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him to his feet and out of the room, pausing only briefly to grab his things before half-hauling Harry up the stairs again. “My, aren’t we feeling lascivious,” Harry commented, as Severus pushed him into their bedroom. “You don’t know the half of it,” Severus murmured, pressing his forehead into Harry’s and their bodies together. “Well, it is a holiday,” said Harry, trying to keep his voice sounding casual, though having difficulty with his breathing. “What do you want to do?” “Take my clothes off, and I’ll tell you,” Harry murmured, brushing his lips against Severus’ mouth – not a kiss, exactly, just a brush. Severus put on hand on the back of Harry’s head and pulled his face back for a proper kiss, while his other hand began unhooking Harry’s robes one-handedly. “You’re quite dexterous,” Harry breathed, as Severus bit into his neck. “I’m quite good with my fingers, yes,” Severus said, his voice muffled in Harry’s collarbones. “Wouldn’t you say?” Harry felt a reminding twinge in his backside. “Yes,” he exhaled. “Hurry, Severus!” Severus removed the rest of Harry’s robe, as well as his shirt, belt, tie, pants, socks and shoes in under a minute. The only thing left on Harry’s body was the small pendant hanging around his neck; an emerald set in the upper curve of a platinum S, resting just below the hollow at the base of his neck; his Christmas gift to Harry. Meanwhile, Harry had been working just as steadily at relieving Severus of his unnecessary clothes (which would be all of them, in Harry’s opinion), but his fingers were slowed by his intense desire. He had removed the tie and was opening Severus’ collar, exposing the similar pendant he wore; only it was a ruby set in the upper arms of a gold H. Harry smiled, touched it lightly, remembering Christmas Eve day, when they had had them made in Diagon Alley together, and pulled Severus’ shirt off. At least he wasn’t wearing cuff links today. Now the pants. Good. Severus had stepped out of his own shoes, which made everything easier. He wasn’t wearing socks, which Harry thought was odd, given how cold it was in London. “Where are your socks?” he asked, taking his mouth off Severus’ just long enough to say it. “Remember how we woke up late?” Severus asked. “Yeah, you wanted to get some breakfast before leaving, right?” “Yes, well, I was in something of a hurry,” Severus confessed. “I wanted to get to the shops before they got crowded. You know how I feel about shopping.” Harry gave him a strange look. “Severus, after breakfast, you came back up and shagged the living daylights out of me, remember?” Severus smiled. “That’s why I was in such a hurry,” he answered, attacking Harry’s neck again. Harry laughed, and, with some concentration, managed to snake his toes under the cuff of Severus’ black trouser sock and slipped it off his foot. The other sock was more of a struggle, left-footed, and he was also hampered in his focus by Severus’ tongue in his ear and the touch of his erection on Harry’s, but in the end, he managed that one, too. “Okay, you’re naked now,” Severus whispered, “and so am I, so tell me what we’re going to do.” “I want…” Harry pulled him over to the bed, “to do this again,” he said, pushing Severus down so that he was lying diagonally across the bed and arranging himself upside-down beside him. Harry adjusted his position somewhat, then leaned forward and took Severus into his mouth. “Oh, that….” Severus said, with difficulty. “Oh, Harry, don’t stop doing that… oh, yes…” A burst of creativity seemed to take hold of Severus, who leaned forward himself and very, very gently nuzzled his face into Harry’s testicles, kissing them and sucking them lightly, rubbing his nose and then tongue along the tight seam between them. Harry gasped along Severus’ shaft, which was exhilarating. The sensation made Harry harder than ever. Slowly, Severus continued his ministrations, beginning at the base of Harry’s cock and progressing in small kisses and tiny bites until he reached the head and took it in his mouth. Harry felt like he’d stopped breathing altogether, but kept sucking. Severus’ hands were gripping his ass, one arm beneath his weight on the bed. Harry slid his hand along the backs of Severus’ thighs and onto his ass, slipping his fingers into the place just behind his lover’s testicles to touch the same seam Severus had been licking on him before. Shuddering, they both gasped against each other and came, groaning their pleasure along each other’s spurting erections. They fell back weakly, sated. * * * Meanwhile, downstairs, Draco wandered into the drawing room. Ginny was setting champagne glasses around on golden, mirrored serving trays that she’d found somewhere. “Need help?” he asked, causing her to jump slightly. “Sorry,” he added. Ginny whirled around. “Draco!” she said, putting a hand against her heart. “It’s okay, you just scared me. And I’m fine, actually, but if you want, you could check and make sure we have enough champagne for everyone.” Draco smiled. “I just did,” he said. “I was looking for you, and I found the champagne instead, so I counted. There’s lots.” “Why were you looking for me?” “Just wanted to hang out with someone, is all,” Draco said lightly. She narrowed her eyes. “Someone who wasn’t clearly longing to be carried upstairs and shagged senseless.” “Yeah,” Draco admitted. “I heard Snape come home,” she said, by way of explanation. “I really did want to hang out with you,” Draco. “Sure. Fine. What do you want to do?” Ginny asked. “Er… I don’t know. Is there more stuff to do for the party?” “Nah, Mum’s got it all covered,” Ginny said. “I was just bored.” A bright idea came to Draco. “Is there somewhere around here where we could go for a fly?” Ginny’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’d be great!” she said enthusiastically. “Maybe Harry will let me borrow his Firebolt.” “If he’s not busy using it for something horribly wrong,” Draco muttered. Ginny blushed. “That is so wrong, that you even said that,” she said. “I’ll go up and… see what’s happening. Did you bring your Nimbus?” “Of course. I would never go anywhere without it.” Ginny looked surprised, but just said, “Okay, then,” and went upstairs. She hesitated on the landing outside Harry and Severus’ room. She knocked. Pause. “Who is it?” called Snape’s voice. “It’s Ginny,” she answered, feeling weirder than ever to be knocking at her Potions Master’s bedroom door. “I’m looking for Harry,” she added. “Come in,” Snape’s voice replied. The doorknob clicked, evidently unlocking. They must both be in there. Squeamishly, hoping she wouldn’t see anything she really didn’t want to, Ginny turned the knob. It was alright, though somewhat surprising. They were just lying in bed together, clearly naked, but covered, thankfully, Harry resting half in the crook of Snape’s arm and half against his chest. Their hair looked extremely messy, which was normal for Harry, but not for Snape. “Hi,” Harry said, seeming completely at ease. “What’s up?” “I was – I was just wondering if I could borrow your Firebolt,” Ginny said quickly, feeling like her face was on fire. She hoped that everyone in question remembered that she still had a year and a half of having Snape as her teacher. “Draco and I were going to go for a fly.” “Sure,” Harry said. He hesitated. “It’s over there, in the corner,” he added, pointing. He obviously was in no position to get out of bed. Ginny spotted it and went and got it, heading immediately for the door. “Thanks,” she said, over her shoulder, closing the door behind her. Harry felt Severus laugh gently. “Poor girl,” he said. “I hope that wasn’t traumatizing.” “Well, she obviously felt comfortable enough to come looking for me here, when you know Draco probably told her what we were just up to, and she did come in and everything,” Harry pointed out. “True. Still. She’d best not make snide remarks about it in the school setting. I still have her for one more year, remember?” “Right,” Harry said, remembering. They had generally treated Ginny like she was in their year, too. “Well, I’m sure she wouldn’t. She’s smart, and she also has a healthy sense of self-preservation.” “So why is she going flying with Draco, then?” Severus asked quietly. Harry twisted his head up to look at him. “What’s wrong with that?” he asked. “I’ve been trying to get them together.” “Have you?” Severus asked. “Do you think Draco’s ready for something like that? It would be very fast.” “True,” Harry conceded. “We were very fast.” “That was different.” “Sure was,” Harry grinned. “Insolent boy.” “Grumpy git.” “I just wonder if a relationship is really what Draco needs right now,” Severus said. Harry thought. “I can see your point,” he admitted. “And he thinks that Ginny’s not over Neville yet, anyway.” “Well, there you are then,” Severus said, as if that closed the subject. “What is the time?” “How’m I supposed to know?” Harry complained. “You took my glasses again.” Severus rolled over. “It is nearly five. The party starts at eight. I’m going to shower.” “Can I come?” “I think you just did – ow!” Severus added, as Harry slapped his ass. “Just to shower, idiot,” Harry said, following him into the en-suite bathroom. “I need one, too.” * * * The party was humming. Everyone seemed to be having fun. It pained Harry, though, to see Severus holding himself so stiffly, conversing with people but clearly not really having fun. It was also difficult having him in the same room and not being with him, having to hide the fact that they were so in love. Severus was very good at concealing it, far better than Harry was, but Harry could read him, knowing that it took more effort than it looked. Severus was politely stiff to the other students, who reverted in like form, referring to him as Professor Snape and then only when they had to. Draco and Ginny were chatting with Tonks in one corner of the drawing room (Draco looking amused; he had only just met Tonks), while Ron and Hermione were with the twins and their girlfriends, laughing hysterically at times. Dumbledore and Lupin were sipping at wine at a table with Arthur and Moody. The Shacklebolts, having small children, had gone home early, and Mundungus had already left for another party. Emmeline had not come at the last minute, and the elder two Weasley sons were talking animatedly in the next room – about dragons, from the sounds of it. Harry realized that he was standing alone, just watching people. Severus caught his eye ever so quickly while continuing whatever he was saying to Molly and gave Harry a fleeting look. Harry smiled quickly, looked around, and found Moody’s magical blue eye watching him. He headed for the table. “Have a seat, Potter,” Moody invited gruffly. It hardly sounded like a request, but one never knew with Moody. Harry sat. “So,” Moody said. “Good term so far?” Harry shrugged. “Yeah, fine, I suppose,” he said. “I’m looking forward to graduating.” Dumbledore smiled. “How has the extra training been going? We were just talking about it,” he added. “Fine. It’s been fun for all of us, actually,” Harry said. Lupin nodded in agreement. “Potter,” Moody said, “you’re hiding something. Don’t tell me you’re not; I’ve felt it all evening. That way you keep sneaking glances at Snape. Don’t tell me he’s giving you a hard time in Potions or your training sessions.” Harry heard “hard” and “sessions” and swallowed. “It’s nothing,” he said, too quickly. He looked at Dumbledore, who was looking thoughtful, appearing to study the bubbles in his champagne. Lupin’s face was impassive. He had, of course, discovered the relationship by now. He had told Harry, back at the end of October, that he (as Harry’s new godfather) was fine with it, but to be quiet about it. Obviously. Moody opened his mouth, but Dumbledore cut him off. “I think,” he said quietly to Harry, “that it might be time to tell the Order.” Harry’s jaw dropped. “The Order?” he said. “Why?” “It may become important, for tactical reasons,” Dumbledore said impassively. “Your weak points, as it were.” “If more people know, doesn’t that increase the danger?” Harry asked incredulously. “Well, yes,” Dumbledore said. “Perhaps just Alastor, then. Come on, Harry. You want him knowing all the facts, don’t you?” Harry nodded mutely. “Should I tell him?” “Sure,” Harry said, feeling uncomfortable. Dumbledore said calmly to Moody (knowing that Lupin knew already), “Harry and Severus have been in a relationship since summer, Alastor. It is quite serious, very committed, and very loving. I see no reason to prevent this, as they’re both very happy. But you see the need for secrecy.” Moody surveyed Harry with a rare look of surprise on his grizzled face. “Well, well, Potter,” he said. “I had no idea, honestly. So that’s not a look of him wanting to hex you exactly then, is it?” he added. Harry blushed. “Uh, probably not, no,” he said. Moody laughed heartily, and Dumbledore smiled apologetically at Harry. Sometime later, Fred announced, “It’s almost midnight, everyone! Grab your champagne and your sweetheart!” Harry looked unwittingly at Severus before he could prevent himself. This time next year, he told himself firmly, we can do this, too, or not at all because I’ll be dead. He held on to the first thought with all his might. Next year. He was standing near the doorway between the two rooms. Severus caught his eye again. People were counting down to midnight, even Dumbledore. In the ensuing cheering and confusion, Severus moved quickly across the room, grabbed Harry’s wrist and dragged him around the corner into the next room. He gathered Harry quickly into his arms and kissed him hard. “This time, next year,” he whispered, “we’ll do that out in the open. I promise you that. Happy New Year.” Harry nodded, and said “Happy New Year,” a lump in his throat, and kissed Severus again. They broke apart and slipped, one at a time, back into the other room, which had exploded with cheering, the twins’ fireworks, and silly party-favour noises. One of Harry’s hands was behind his back, and he felt Severus slip his own into it quickly before moving away to hug Molly Weasley and wish her a happy New Year. Hermione was hugging Harry very hard. Harry hugged back fiercely. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: these people, alas, are not mine, apart from where I’ve added to what JK Rowling has built. Chapter 19: Talk of War and the Future School had resumed. Everything carried on as usual, with the exception of the fact that Harry and Severus were now sometimes invited to dine together with the Headmaster in his private quarters from time to time, sometimes with Lupin there, as well. Harry had no idea whether or not Professor McGonagall knew about his relationship with Severus, and though he rather suspected she would, he had less than no desire to talk to his Head of House about it. As she never had to spend time in their company, Harry doubted it would become an issue while he was still at school. And after school was another matter. More and more of Harry’s thoughts were bent on the coming war. Every day he scanned the Daily Prophet with dread, wondering when news of renewed attacks would begin. Occasionally, he asked Dumbledore, but the man was so busy these days, and rarely around. When he was able to ask, Dumbledore usually had nothing to tell Harry, anyway. “It is difficult to predict,” he told Harry one night during dinner, about a month after the Christmas break, “for Voldemort was always unusually difficult to predict himself. The Aurors have been tracking the Death Eaters for months, and so far, there is nothing particularly unusual to reports. Parties at the Malfoy Manor. Who can be arrested for simply attending a party?” “Mightn’t they be doing things, like torturing muggles they’ve captured, or whatever, at those parties?” Harry asked. “Draco’s told me stories like that. He also says they have dungeons below the basement, but that he’s never been allowed down there.” Dumbledore gave Severus a curious look. “Have you seen the Malfoy dungeons?” he asked. Severus shook his head. “No,” he said. “I always knew they were there… I just managed to avoid taking part in anything that happened down. Lucius has a particularly vicious streak in him that many of the rest do not. He and Dolohov were always plotting things together.” Dumbledore nodded sagely. “Yes,” he said, “yes, Dolohov, that makes perfect sense. Well, I am afraid it is still private property, Harry, and more than likely so highly guarded that it would be very dangerous to send any of the Aurors in there.” “I would assume,” Severus said slowly, “that one would need to be a Death Eater to enter, and that no substitution would suffice.” “That is my assumption as well,” Dumbledore said, nodding again. He turned back to Harry. “In the mean while,” he said, “let us speak of other matters. Congratulations on the recent Gryffindor quidditch victory.” Harry grinned. “Thanks,” he said. “Was Draco very disappointed?” Severus asked, smiling. “Well, he did really well,” Harry said modestly, realizing this made it sound as though he had done even better – which he knew he had, but it seemed rude to say so. “And everybody applauded him in the common room, too. He seemed pretty happy. He said it was the weirdest thing, playing for Slytherin and hoping for Gryffindor.” Severus made a thoughtful noise. “He seems fairly settled into Gryffindor,” he said. Harry nodded. “He doesn’t really spend much time in the dorm itself, but then he said he didn’t in Slytherin, either. But he’s usually in the common room.” “Doing what?” Dumbledore asked. “Oh, the usuals. Homework. Playing chess with Ron. They’re really about evenly matched, so they never get tired of trying to outthink the other. Arguing with Hermione about various things, hanging out with Ginny. They going flying together a lot.” Severus gave Harry a pointed look. “Is there anything happening there?” he asked, glancing at Dumbledore. Harry shook his head. “No,” he said. “I think you were right. Draco just decided that he’s not really ready for a relationship like that just yet, and Ginny just wasn’t really in the right place. She’s pretty much over Neville, but you can’t just jump into things that fast, you know? So they’re just friends.” Dumbledore asked, with interest, “Is Draco straight? I always assumed… especially given some of his father’s – er – more particular talents – ” Severus and Harry both shook their heads. “No,” Severus said. “He did attempt to convince himself at one point, and I recall thinking to myself that it was probably an act of sheer rebellion – ” “Until,” Harry said, “he realized that, as he put it, his father would probably Crucio him to death if he ever found out. So he stopped trying to be, and spent a couple of years in total confusion. Now he figures that he’s actually straight, after all.” “Did he have feelings for Ms. Weasley?” Severus asked Harry. “You never did tell me the end of that.” “He did,” Harry said, “but he wasn’t even sure at Christmas if he should do something about them, act on them at all. So he waited, and now this is where it’s at.” “Hmm,” said Dumbledore. “After the war, of course, it may be a different thing. I would very much like to see Draco settled safely. I don’t necessarily mean marriage,” he added, “but stable relationships. I realize that he has built some good friendships since his move to Gryffindor Tower, but many of you are in relationships yourselves,” he said to Harry, “and I do not want to see Draco isolated after the war.” “If there even is an ‘after the war’,” Harry said gloomily. “We always say that, ‘after the war’, and who knows if any of us will even be alive then? It’s what I want, what we all want, more than anything – just to be able to live our lives, and not be afraid. Just be. Love. Have careers. Be happy.” “Surely you know,” Dumbledore said, smiling gently, “that one can almost always be happy, despite circumstances. I believe that you are happier this year than you have ever been in the whole of your life, yet this has been the most dangerous year so far. Am I mistaken?” Harry looked at Severus, who gave him such a look of love that he almost felt he could dissolve there on the spot. He realized that the same, dreamy, out-of-focus look must also be on his face, and turned quickly back to Dumbledore. “No,” he said, and Severus laid his hand over Harry’s on the table, “you’re perfectly right. But you see what I mean. We want to be allowed to be open about our relationship, be able to make plans for the future, not have to worry about Severus having to go spy, or me having to kill Voldemort. I just want to live.” Dumbledore nodded slowly. “Soon, Harry. I know things are heating up, I just can’t say when or where precisely. But I can feel things getting ready. Firenze feels it also. Mars is brighter now than in any time in the history of this world. It is my hope to come to the central issue in this war quickly, before many people have to die.” “The central issue being Harry and Voldemort,” said Severus, his face paler than usual. Harry noticed that he’d actually said Voldemort’s name, and moved his thumb against Severus’ beside his. “Yes,” said Dumbledore simply. “At the moment, Kingsley and I are trying to work out a way in which to trap Voldemort, turn the tables on him before he can lay any further traps for Harry. You, Severus, may be able to help us in this manner.” “Professor,” Harry said to Dumbledore, hesitating, “I have another question.” Dumbledore lifted his silver brows. “Yes, Harry?” “The day Sirius died,” Harry said, “in the foyer of the Ministry, before Voldemort appeared, I was duelling with Bellatrix Lestrange, and I tried to use the Cruciatus Curse against her – ” he paused for a second, wondering if Dumbledore would be shocked or angry with him for this, but the old wizard simply nodded. “You were justifiably angry,” he said, “considering she had just caused the death of your godfather and then provoked you about it.” “Yes – well,” Harry went on, “it didn’t really work. She told me that it was because I didn’t really mean it, that I wasn’t, basically, evil enough to make it work. So, if I can’t even cast a Cruciatus Curse properly, how am I supposed to be able to kill Voldemort? What if I can’t do Avada Kedavra by then?”Dumbledore considered. Severus was silent, but stroked his hand softly, his thumbnail rubbing over Harry’s. “It was never my intention,” Dumbledore said at last, the candlelight flashing on his glasses, “to train you with that curse. I think it can be avoided. I know your feelings about this Prophecy, Harry. If we can trap Voldemort somehow, perhaps there will be other ways of bringing about his death. After all, the Prophecy only said that you were the one with the power to defeat him. Not kill, outright. It may be that we can leave that to someone else, or to multiple parties.” Harry thought about this. “Would a Dementor be able to do it?” he asked. “No. A Dementor can only remove the soul.” “Would that not be enough?” Severus asked quietly. “Without a soul, he is nothing.” “Voldemort has many powers that even I cannot comprehend,” Dumbledore said quietly. “What if his soul were to possess the Dementor who sucked it away from him? What if it were somehow preserved? I do not know, and I doubt very much that anyone does, what happens to the soul itself in that process, whether the Dementor simply feeds upon it as energy and it becomes diffused, or if it is kept somewhere, somehow. I do not know, and I am not willing to take a chance in that way. He must die. I am no fonder of killing than either of you,” he said heavily, “but I know what must be done.” Harry nodded soberly. “I know you’re right,” he said softly. “You always are. Well. Just keep me posted, alright?” “I will,” Dumbledore promised. Harry yawned, and said, “I’m getting tired. I think we should go.” They all stood up, and with much exchanging of thank-you’s and good-night’s, Harry and Severus left the Headmaster’s chambers and went downstairs to the dungeons. Such a familiar place by now. The thought crossed Harry’s mind that it was odd, that he should be so familiar with the dungeons now, and Malfoy so familiar with Gryffindor Tower now. Strange, but so much better this way. Perhaps what Hermione had always said about the strife between the Houses was right, after all. As they undressed for bed, Severus said to Harry, “He is right, you know.” His dark eyes flickered in the firelight. Harry nodded, hanging up his robes in the usual place and stripping off his shirt. “I know,” he said. “I just don’t like to think about it.” “Then we won’t talk about it,” Severus said, and crossed the room to him. Harry moved toward him and stepped into his embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around the familiar body. “Okay,” he said, his voice muffled against Severus’ chest. “I just want to think about us, our future, together.” There was a pause. “Do you really mean that, Harry?” Severus asked quietly. “You know I do.” “Yes, but – really, Harry,” Severus said, raising Harry’s chin with one finger, searching his eyes probingly. “Would you really want to spend the whole of your life with an older man, not so attractive, boring as hell – I’m a Potions Master, for Merlin’s sake – with a horrible reputation and history – would you really want to waste your youth away like that? After we survive the war, you will have people lining up for your attentions. You could do so much better than me.” Harry thought of laughing, then didn’t think of it. “But you’re the only one I would ever see,” he said softly, seriously. “There’ll be these crowds, sure, but all the time, I’ll be looking for you. You’re the only one I can see, the only one I want. I’m not a child, Severus, you know that. I’ve never felt these feelings before, because I’ve never met the person I knew I wanted to spend my life with before. And now I have. I’m sure, Severus. There is no ‘better than you’ – you are my ideal, the highest aspiration I have. I have everything I want – except freedom from this terrible war.” Severus gave a shaky laugh. “That, we’ll deal with,” he promised. “You’re sure? That you don’t think there could be anything better than what I have to offer?” Harry pulled his face down and kissed him tenderly. “Better than this?” he asked in a low voice. “You must be joking. This is everything to me. You are everything to me.” Severus hugged him very suddenly, so tightly that Harry thought he might actually crack one of his ribs. “I love you,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “Oh, Harry, I love you so much.” “I love you, too,” Harry said, hugging back hard. “I can’t imagine my life without you, my future without you. I don’t want a future without you.” “Neither do I,” Severus said. He released Harry. “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the bedroom, and when he came back, still wearing only his trousers, he was concealing something in his pocket. He looked a bit uncertain, but came to stand in front of Harry, by the fire. “When I originally bought this,” he said, “I was intending to wait a little longer before giving it to you – or at least, asking you to receive it – and I was planning to make it a really special time. But now I feel that this is the right moment.” Severus drew a small box out of his pocket and gave it to Harry. Harry took it, looking incredulously up at Severus. Was it what he thought it might be? “I, too, cannot imagine my life without you in it,” Severus said quietly. “I would like, more than anything, to spend the rest of it with you. When all this is over, Harry, will you marry me?” Harry’s eyes filled, blurring Severus into a hazy outline. “Yes!” he said. “Oh, yes, Severus, yes!” Laughing through his own tears, Severus drew Harry’s glasses off gently and pulled him close again, wiping the tears from Harry’s cheeks. They held each other tight and stayed that way for a long time, neither moving, nor speaking. * * * In the morning, Harry overslept and missed his classes. Severus was gone when he woke up, no doubting having had to teach, so Harry showered, dressed and went straight to lunch. Before he left the suite, he slipped the platinum band back onto his fourth finger and muttered the spell that Severus had showed him to make it invisible, so as to avoid attention – after admiring the glittering green diamond set flat into the band. He felt as though he were floating on air all the way upstairs to the Great Hall, as though it were a talisman that would protect him from all harm. It was certain now, completely doubt-free. He had known for some time that he wanted this more than anything; he simply assumed that they would stay together indefinitely. But this was definite, this was real. They were promised to one another now, it was not indefinite, it was forever. Ron, Hermione and Draco all looked up as he slipped in beside Hermione just after all the other Gryffindors had. “Morning, Sleepyhead,” Hermione said sweetly. Harry grinned. “Morning,” he returned, and began to help himself to chicken stew. “I see someone overslept,” Draco smirked. “What, did Severus not wake you? Because he was there in Potions.” “We had a rather… late night,” Harry said evasively. “I guess he thought I needed the sleep.” “Harry,” Hermione said suddenly, “what’s wrong with your left hand? There’s sort of a mirage on it or something.” “Oh, that,” said Harry airily. “I’ll explain after lunch.” He was bursting to tell, but was not foolish enough to do so at the Gryffindor lunch table. Hermione gave him a steely look. “You’d better,” she said. Ron peered curiously at Harry’s hand. “Yeah, I can see it, too, but I wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t said anything,” he said to Hermione. Harry self-consciously put his hand on his lap. “So, Harry,” Draco said, “did Dumbledore say anything last night? About any developments or activities?” Harry shook his head. “No. He doesn’t know much… besides random parties at, uh, your parents’ house,” he said. Draco sighed. “Death Eater parties,” he said. “Yeah,” said Harry, nodding. “We talked about the dungeons at your house.” “It’s not my house. Has Severus ever seen them?” “No, apparently not,” Harry said. “He said he always managed to avoid those parties with made-up prior commitments or something.” “Hmm,” said Draco, apparently impressed. “Well, I’m glad he wasn’t a part of any of that. As I’m sure you are,” he added. Harry nodded. “Yes,” he said honestly, “I am. Not that it would matter now, of course, but still. In fact,” he added, struggling to maintain a casual tone, “especially now, you might say.” Draco, Ron and Hermione all gave him weird looks. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked, before the other two could react. Harry couldn’t keep his ecstatic grin off his face. “I can’t wait any more!” he exclaimed. “But I can’t tell you here. Come on!” He abandoned his lunch and left the Hall quickly, the other three following closely. Harry thought for a moment, then led them across the Entrance Hall to a tapestry he knew to conceal an alcove large enough for all four of them to duck into. “Someone do a lumos spell,” he instructed, “because I have to do something else with my wand.” Immediately, a blaze of light issued out of Draco’s wand. “Thanks,” Harry said. He looked at them all with great affection; they were his best friends and he was about to tell them the best news of his whole, entire life. “First, I just want to say that you three are the best friends a guy could have,” he said, “and I’m so glad it’s you that I’m about to tell this to.” Hermione went wide-eyed and put her hands over her face. Harry tapped his hidden ring, held out his hand, and said, “We’re engaged.” Hermione shrieked and threw her arms around Harry, crying, “I knew it!” Ron was gaping, but said, “Wow, mate, congratulations!” He looked stunned. Even Draco looked surprised, but all he said was, “That was fast! But it’s totally great, Harry, I’m really happy for you! Both of you.” “Thanks,” Harry said, grinning from ear to ear. “I knew I could tell you guys.” “I think you’ll be really, really happy together,” Hermione squeaked. “We already are,” Harry smiled. “So, is this a secret? I assume it is,” Ron said, answering his own question. “Yes, definitely,” Harry said seriously. “You seriously can’t tell anyone.” Draco raised his eyebrows. “Not even Ginny?” Harry thought. “Well, Severus and I agreed on just you three for now,” he said. “It might be different – you know, if you two were dating,” he said, giving Draco an apologetic look, “but since you’re not, I think it should probably stay just between the five of us. Okay?” They all nodded. “Okay,” said Draco. He didn’t look displeased, which was a relief to Harry. He’d wondered how the other would feel about that. They emerged from the tapestry and went to their classes; the three genuine Gryffindors to Charms and the quasi-Slytherin to Transfiguration. Harry did not hear another word the rest of the day. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize Chapter 20: The War Begins Draco was at breakfast early, before his friends. Ron and Hermione would likely be there shortly from the Head Student rooms; Harry later, if at all. Seamus, Dean and Neville had given up asking where Harry was all the time. Harry had asked him, Draco, once, whether he minded being left alone in the dorm without him. Draco, to his own surprise, admitted that it was fine. He rather liked the other three. Dean was also a keen chess player, though not as good as Ron. And, as Ron and Hermione shared the same common room with the other Gryffindors, they were around much of the time. Harry often spent his evenings there, but slipped away after awhile. People tended to assume that Harry was simply getting more reclusive, having so much to deal with all the time. They really weren’t far off, Draco mused to himself. But as for the nights themselves, the other three seventh-year’s tended to leave Draco to himself, responding with great friendliness if he spoke to them, but otherwise accepting his silences or plain desire to sleep. The victory party following the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw quidditch match had actually been quite a lot of fun – sometimes Draco wondered if Slytherin House even knew how to have legitimate (or at least semi-legitimate, he amended mentally) fun, without hurting people. Sure, the Gryffindors raided food from the kitchens so frequently most of the house-elves knew all their names, and sure, they bent rules to the breaking point, but they were all, to a fault, brave, friendly, energetic and fun people, and Draco was surprised to find himself genuinely enjoying getting to know them. His musings were interrupted by the arrival of a sleek, silver eagle howl – Draco’s stomach clenched – it was his father’s owl, Mordred, bearing the standard, magically-sealed scroll. Draco fumbled in his bag for the Malfoy heirloom ring which would allow him to open the letter. He no longer kept it on his person. Finding the old ring, he placed it, face-down, upon the seal, which broke. Draco unscrolled the letter and read: Son, I hope that it is with favour that you receive this missive.I apologize for not having written before now. I had toconsider the best course of action pursuant to our disagreementlast summer, over the matter of your acceptance of theDark Mark following your graduation in June. I haveaccepted the fact that every son must rebel, and thatyou have had and completed this small rebellion. We will go ahead with the process in June, as originallyplanned. I have not, as you should be grateful to know,mentioned your short course of disobedience to our Lordand Master. I await your answer telling me of youracceptance. This is the winning side, my son. I suggest youconsider any further rebellion very wisely. And furtherto that, I am the winner. Understand that there isno choice in this matter. You are my son and my heir,and you will become a Death Eater. I have spoken. Donot put my anger to the test. There may be news soon. Until I can trust you again,that is all that I can say. Send me your answer, andwe will begin arrangements. Your father,Lucius Malfoy, Esq. Draco dropped the letter on the table and sat back weakly. Mordred hooted softly. Draco ran his fingers through his soft, blond hair and looked at the owl. “No answer for now,” he said at last. “Tell him I’ll write soon, but that I’m too busy with school work right now. Tell him it’s for Potions. Okay?” The owl hooted again and flew off. Draco found that his appetite was gone, and pushed his half-empty plate away. He actually felt rather sick. It wasn’t that he was regretting his decision or anything like that – there was no way he could ever return to an existence of being the person he’d been for the past sixteen and a half years or so. He had no desire to return to that life. He had only just come to real life lately, and he was simply not willing to give it up. Also, there was the fact that he had been training for this day, to fight against his father and his father’s friends, for months, trained by people his father hated and would surely kill him for associating with in this manner. But now, Draco reflected, it felt somehow very real. Despite what he’d said to Severus months ago, while still trying to make up his mind, Draco was not all that concerned about betraying his family. Severus had been right; they had betrayed him long ago. He had first been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse at the age of two, and his mother had sat back calmly and watched – she hadn’t even tried to intervene. Draco remembered how bitterly jealous he had been when word reached his ears that Potter’s mother had died to save him – even giving him special powers of protection because of it. Draco had always known that he was not loved. His parents expected him to make them proud and not let down the family honour. Nothing more. And himself? Draco thought, and realized with a deepening of bitterness, that he did not love his parents, either. He never had. They had let him down too early and too often for love to even begin. And look at this letter – his father was no longer even pretending to give him a choice in the matter – he used to say things about how proud he would be, to be the Dark Lord’s right-hand man, with his son at his side. It was all just for show, Draco thought angrily. It hurt him to know that he had never experienced familial love – and perhaps that was why he was so enjoying life in Gryffindor Tower – but he was far beyond the point where his father’s letter could have hurt him. But there were stirrings going on in his midsection, stirrings of fear. His father was a very dangerous man. “Draco?” His head snapped up. It was Hermione, with Ron, of course. They had already sat down, and he hadn’t even noticed. “Hi!” he said reflexively. “Are you alright?” Hermione peered at him with concern. “You look – well, paler than usual,” she said. Draco bit his lip, pausing. “Well, mostly,” he said. “I was thinking. Sorry I didn’t notice you guys come in.” Ron waved this off. “Harry does it to us all the time,” he said. “Yeah, well, that’s usually because he’s off in la-la land,” Draco replied dryly. “You know, when he gets that big, dreamy smile on his face, and you’re just thinking about how very much you hope he doesn’t start reminiscing about whatever pleasant thought brought that on?” The other two laughed. “I know the look,” Ron assured him. “So, what’re you brooding about, then?” “Who said I was brooding?” “I did,” Ron said. He looked at Draco’s pushed-away, unfinished scrambled eggs. “You’re not eating.” “I’m not hungry.” “Draco – ” “You wouldn’t be, either,” Draco interrupted him flatly, pushing the letter over, “if you’d gotten one of these this morning.” Ron reached tentatively for the letter, looking at Draco for permission. “Go ahead,” Draco told him. Hermione leaned in and together they read the letter. Hermione gasped at the end. “Oh, Draco!” she said, her large, intelligent brown eyes wide. “That’s horrible!” Draco nodded grimly. “I’m actually kind of scared,” he admitted. “You should tell Dumbledore, mate,” Ron said seriously. “Honest. He would definitely want to see this.” Draco nodded again. “Yes, you’re probably right,” he said. “I was also thinking about what he said about there maybe being ‘news’ soon,” he added. “That’s totally pertinent to the war anyway.” “It’s all pertinent to the war,” Hermione said. “Your role could be really crucial, Draco. And what do you think he means by ‘news’, anyway – attacks, do you think?” “Knowing my father – well, sort of – probably,” Draco said. Just then, Harry came in and strolled merrily over to their table. “Hey guys!” he said, in that annoyingly happy mood he always seemed to be in in the mornings. To no one’s surprise, Severus entered the Great Hall shortly after that. “What’s going on?” They quickly explained, Hermione feeling badly as she watched Harry’s good mood evaporate into anxiety, and concern for Draco. He, of course, told Draco the same thing as the others; to tell Dumbledore immediately.“Draco,” Hermione said tentatively. He looked at her. “Are you feeling… I mean, how are you… are you okay?” Draco’s face contorted as he thought about this, little lines appearing all over his face. “I guess so,” he said. “I mean, it’s something of a bitch, knowing who my father is, what kind of a person he is. My mother, too; she’s no better.” “Do they – do you love them, though?” Hermione asked. Draco was surprised to find her stumbling onto the train of thought he’d been on when she came in with Ron. “It sounds terrible, but no,” he said. He gave a brief, though colourful sketch of his childhood. “They don’t love me,” he said. “They never did.” “Does it hurt?” Harry asked quietly, from Draco’s side. Draco kept his calm front in place. “It hurts me to know that I’ll never know what it was like, not having a mother and a father,” he said. “Not having those relationships, that kind of background to my character. It hurts me to realize what little character I’ve actually had all my life, that I became the kind of guy I’ve always been before you guys basically saved me. You know, where I can freely admit to myself – as I always have – that I don’t love my parents and that it doesn’t really hurt me that they don’t love me. I actually started wondering if I had any feelings at all.” Harry probed Draco’s eyes, probably reading more there and not saying. Since his engagement a month ago, his legilimency skills had grown alarmingly, and they had already been fairly good from all his training. He nodded, not saying anything, which was slightly annoying to everyone else. “Well, we can talk to Dumbledore later, after dinner, maybe,” he said. “I’ll owl him and see if he’s free.” Ron gave Harry a Look. “You make sure you tell him that it’s urgent,” he said. “He has to see this. Draco’s going to have to answer Lucius really soon, or else he’ll get suspicious, and he’s obviously going to need help with his answer, isn’t he? You guys need to get planning.” “Just us?” Harry threw back. “Yeah, well, at least you,” Ron said. “No one knows exactly what the Prophecy means, remember? Dumbledore was just telling us that in defense lessons last week – it might just mean that your wit has to be behind the plan that defeats him. You have to be involved at all the significant levels.” “Yeah, yeah,” Harry said dismissively. “But you could come, too.” Ron shifted in his chair. “Well, it seems like it could be a fairly personal thing,” he muttered. “Maybe Draco doesn’t want a crowd.” “What do you want, Draco?” Hermione cut in. Draco’s face looked inscrutable. “Just Harry would be fine,” he said. “And Severus, too, I think. Is that okay?” Hermione nodded and Ron joined her eagerly. “Whatever you want, mate,” he said quickly. * * * The Evening Prophet arrived during dinner. Hermione took hers eagerly and opened it. She gasped. “What?!” chorused three males voice immediately. “There’s ‘news’ already!” Hermione said, pointing. “It’s horrible! Muggles! An entire little boys’ football team, killed right after a match. Oh, no! Their parents, as well! And all the people watching!” “What has the Ministry done with the survivors?” Ron asked, his eyes wide with horror. “Lightning storm,” Hermione said. “Listen – ” She began to read aloud: “The Ministry of Magic strongly suspects these attacks to have been orchestrated by active Death Eaters MacNair, Lestrange (Rudolphus), Lestrange (Bellatrix) and – ” she hesitated – “Malfoy (Lucius) – ” “Draco, where are you going?” Ron called, but the Slytherin had abruptly risen from his seat and gone striding off toward the doors. “Come on, Harry,” he called back tersely. “It’s time for our meeting.” Harry, glancing at the clock as he rose to hurry after Draco, saw that it was. He caught up easily and fell into pace beside Draco. Obviously, his friend was upset, so Harry decided not to talk unless Draco seemed to want it. They made their way to Dumbledore’s office in silence. “Iced pumpkin juice,” Harry said to the gargoyles, who allowed them by. Harry pushed the door open and entered the office to see Dumbledore scanning the Evening Prophet himself. Draco followed Harry in and, instead of sitting, went to stand in front of the fire, facing it and not the room. Before Dumbledore could say anything, though, there were more footsteps on the stairs, and Severus entered the office. He had a Prophet folded under his arm. He took a quick look around the office, took in Draco’s guarded reserve, Dumbledore’s concern and Harry’s wary expression. Severus moved to stand beside Harry, took his hand, gave Dumbledore a quick nod, and said a general, “Hello.” Draco said nothing, and Harry simply squeezed his hand and leaned against him. Dumbledore said, “Hello, everyone. Let us get right down to business; I think we would all – ” and here his eyes cut to Draco’s rigid back – “feel better if we laid plans, started taking action at once. Please sit down.” Harry and Severus complied at once. Draco stayed where he was. Dumbledore looked as though he were considering saying something, then seemed to change his mind. “Thank you for enclosing your father’s letter in the message you two sent me this morning,” he said to the two students. “Thank you for your trust, Draco.” Still Draco did not respond. Undeterred, Dumbledore went on. “I have a plan,” he announced. “The events of this afternoon make it all the more urgent that we put it into action as soon as possible.” Draco whirled around. “Does it involved me killing my father?” he snarled. Dumbledore remained implacable. “Draco, I know you’re upset,” he began, but Draco cut him off. “Do you know why he did it? This?” Draco asked, pointing at the newspaper open upon Dumbledore’s desk. Dumbledore just shook his head, knowing that Draco was about to provide the answer. He was, as always, correct. “It’s to mock me!” Draco said. “It’s to scare me, after his letter. I remember asking him once, when I was about five, if I could play on a football team. I asked every year until I was about seven, and he taught me never to ask him that again. He always said I was too small, too girly, and that Malfoys didn’t engage in unrefined, muggle activities like football anyway. He wouldn’t even buy me a soccer ball. Did you see how old those boys are? Ages six and seven, the article said. He remembers. He’s rubbing it in all over again, showing me what kind of power he’s always had over me. This is his little way of saying, look, I can do it again, to lots of people – and he chose them, those particular innocent little boys because of me.” This news fell heavily on Harry and Severus’ ears. Draco had always avoided talking about his childhood. Severus had some idea of what it had been like, but the boy had always been unwilling to talk about it, so he left it alone. Of course Harry had gotten to know some of the history in the past few months as well – perhaps his own miserable childhood had helped Draco to share some of his, but still. And he was right. Severus knew that everyone in the office knew that Draco was right. It was exactly what he said it was. Severus knew Lucius, knew the bounds of his viciousness. Or rather, the lack of bounds to it. The man had a cruel sense of humour, and this was merely further evidence of it. “Do you want to kill your father?” Dumbledore asked calmly. “Don’t call him that. And yes, I want to kill him,” Draco said steadily. He sat down at last. “What happened to the tea part of this ritual?” He seemed oddly calmer, all of a sudden. Harry looked at him curiously. Perhaps he felt better, just having talked. He was willing to bet that the football fiasco had been a particularly significant event of Draco’s childhood. The ghost of a smile appeared on Dumbledore’s tired face. “My apologies,” he said smoothly, and tea appeared on floating trays in front of each of them, including himself. “Lemon?” he asked, offering round dish of fresh lemon slices. They helped themselves. “What is your plan?” Harry asked, after sipping his tea. “Ah. The plan,” Dumbledore said. “The plan is, at last, the trap I was hoping to set for Voldemort. If I am correct, Draco, Lucius will, in response to your letter of acceptance – hear me out – Lucius will arrange to meet you here at the school and transport you both to Voldemort’s side via a portkey. We – we will deal with this ‘we’ in a moment – will be at your meeting with Lucius, concealed – and we will attack him once we know the details of the arrangement. We will, still concealed, transport ourselves to Voldemort’s side and deal with him and any with him there.” Draco felt cold all over. “You realize that all the Death Eaters are required to be present for an initiation ritual,” he said. Dumbledore nodded gravely. “Yes. It will be very dangerous,” he said. “If at all possible, we should endeavour to get to Voldemort as quickly as possible and transport him back to Hogwarts with the portkey, hopefully having another set up nearby to get all of us off the school grounds again to somewhere where we can fight him without endangering the students.” Now Harry felt weak. “That is insane,” he said. “That is so complicated.” Dumbledore merely nodded again. “I am assuming that the second part would be rather harder to achieve,” he said. “We will, in all likelihood, have to fight the Death Eaters as well.” He looked at all three of them. Harry and Draco both looked extremely doubtful. Severus looked thoughtful, a slight frown creasing his forehead. “I need hardly say,” he added, “that we would not be going underprepared.” Draco looked up. “Who is the ‘we’ you mentioned? Who else would be going?” Dumbledore considered. “Well, all of us, for a start. The Aurors. Moody, Kingsley, Tonks. Then some of the other staff. Lupin, Minerva – not Hagrid, not for an operation involving a lot of stealth and concealment – some other students. Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley for certain, Ms. Weasley, Mr. Finnegan, Mr. Thomas, the Patil twins, Ms. Lovegood, Mr. Longbottom, and perhaps the older Weasley boys as well.” “Bill and Charlie?” Draco said. “Yes,” said Dumbledore. “Both extremely talented wizards, you realize.” Draco nodded absent-mindedly. “That’s a lot of people,” he said. Dumbledore set his tea down and leaned forward, steepling his fingers. “You do realize,” he said softly, “that if our plan succeeds, this could be the entire ‘war’? One battle, and everything over. No more innocent deaths. No more danger. We do it in one, quick, fatal blow. No tracking people down – we end it there.” All three considered what this would mean. “So,” Draco ventured, “it could well be the end the other way, too. What if Harry gets killed? I don’t want that. I don’t even want him to come, but I guess he has to, or else we pretty well know that Voldemort can’t be killed.” “Unless it is merely Harry’s participation on some level which is required,” Severus said, speaking at last. “I, obviously, agree. I don’t want Harry going. But that’s not my choice to make. As well, I suspect that Dumbledore is right and that Harry will need to be there, when the time comes.” His hidden ring, which Harry had had made to match his own, was touching Harry’s skin. Harry felt again the magnitude of what this war meant for them – life and love, or nothing. Or worst, if only one of them were killed. If Harry won the war but Severus was killed during it – he shuddered deeply, and Severus, feeling it, simply moved closer. Harry knew he was feeling the same thing. “I want to go,” Harry said. They all looked at him, at least partially in surprise. “What?” said Draco. “I want to go,” Harry repeated. “Let’s end this once and for all. I have a life to be living, and so do all of us. I don’t want to skulk around in fear forever. Neither do you,” he said to Draco. “Let’s deal with Lucius, deal with Voldemort, let the Aurors and them deal with the rest, and come home and graduate, for Merlin’s sake. Get on with our lives. I have a marriage to plan here, and a career.” He felt warm in the face, having said this, but it felt good. He was saying it – doing it – for them, for all of them. For himself. For Severus, who had been haunted by the Dark his whole life. For him and Severus, for their future together. For Draco, who had quickly become a very good friend in a very short time. For Dumbledore, who had been a father to all three of them. Severus said nothing, but his hand held Harry’s so tightly that the ring almost cut into his hand. “Marriage?” Dumbledore said, raising his eyebrows. Oops. Harry had forgotten that Dumbledore didn’t know yet. Draco actually grinned as Harry shot Severus an apologetic look. Severus shook his head slightly, clearing indicating that it didn’t matter, and gave his wand a flick. Both their rings appeared; one platinum with a green stone of some sort (enchanted diamond, probably), one gold platinum with a red stone (another enchanted diamond, Draco would have bet – they were extremely expensive and hard to come by, but Severus would surely know where to find them). “We have been engaged for just over one month,” Severus told the Headmaster with pride. “With admirable secrecy,” Dumbledore said, respect evident in his voice. “May I offer my congratulations to you both. I had rather hoped this would happen.” The two men laughed self-consciously, and Draco watched it, a slight pang of envy running through him. Just to have someone look at him that way… he sighed inwardly and pushed the thought away. Later. After he dealt with his perfidious father, left behind all vestiges of his family, and didn’t have to deal with awkward meetings-with-the-parents. Except that Ginny knows all about it, anyway. Draco pushed the unwelcome thought away. No. We’re not thinking about that. “So.” Dumbledore’s voice brought everyone’s attention back to the sorry business at hand. “Are we agreed?” They nodded. “Then let us proceed. Draco, you must answer your father’s letter tomorrow morning. Tell him that you have your so-called rebellious phase is indeed spent and that you are ready to embrace your Malfoy heritage, or whatever phrasing he would prefer. Ask him for details on the initiation ritual, when it will happen, and so forth. Ask him if he will be coming to meet you at school to take you there. I realize he refers to an after-graduation event, but if you imply that you would be willing to spy on whomever you wish to name here at the school – Harry or myself would be ideal – perhaps they would make it earlier. Remember, the earlier we do this, the fewer innocent lives get lost.” “Unless we rush in under-prepared,” Harry said. “We won’t be under-prepared,” Severus assured him softly. “The Order has been itching to start duelling for a long time now. With the kinds of numbers Dumbledore mentioned, between adult Order members and older students, we will far out-number the Death Eaters.” Dumbledore nodded at this, then looked at Draco. “Are you ready to do this?” he asked quietly. “It is alright if you say no. But it has the added convenience of freeing you from the trap Lucius had laid for you.” Draco studied the depths of his teacup. “I am ready,” he said finally. “But I meant it when I said I want to be the one to – to finish Lucius.” Severus looked at his godfather with dark concern. “Are you certain you want that, Draco?” he asked gently. “It might be easier, if… you don’t want that kind of extra baggage with you’re the remainder of your life, do you?” “I think I owe it to myself,” Draco said obstinately. “He has ruined my life, thus far. I think it would be fitting if I put the end to the ruin he has made of his.” The atmosphere in the office was quite heavy as they all left, each pondering his unwillingness to face his individual destiny. Harry and Severus walked Draco to Gryffindor Tower. Just before Draco went in through the portrait hole, Harry took hold of his robe-sleeve. Draco stopped, turning around, and was surprised when Harry grabbed him in a sudden hug. He didn’t say anything, just released him. “You’re not coming in?” Draco asked, already knowing the answer. “It’s fine, go,” he said hurriedly. “I’m going to bed now, anyway. You guys probably need some time to deal with that on your own. Thanks for the company on the walk.” “Good night, Draco,” Severus said quietly, knowing it was all the commentary his godson wanted at that point. “Good night.” Draco went in, closing the portrait behind him. Severus took Harry’s hand and led him downstairs. They didn’t say much as they got ready for bed, and the silence was as heavy as both their hearts. Severus climbed gracefully into bed. Harry went to stand beside it, on his side. “Are you angry with me?” he asked softly. Severus shook his head. “Come here,” he said, pulling back the blankets on Harry’s side. Harry got into bed. Severus moved to him under the blankets, holding him close, bodies together again at last. Every minute apart felt unnatural. This was home, the way they belonged. “I’m just afraid,” Severus whispered. “I’m afraid of losing you. Of losing this. Of Voldemort making you into something or someone where you can’t even recognize me, or remember all of this. Of a future with no you in it.” “I know,” Harry whispered back, fear encircling his heart like ice. “That’s what I’m afraid of, too. But that’s why I have to go.” “I know,” Severus said. “I know.” “I was never afraid before,” Harry said. “But now I have so much to lose. My life didn’t matter so much to me before – I had hopes and goals and all that – but now there’s so much more. But more importantly, I don’t want to die and leave you behind. I want to survive for your sake.” “Please do, survive for my sake,” Severus said, rocking them back and forth. “That’s my fear, too – dying and leaving you alone again. If one of us is going to die, it should at least be both so that we can still be together.” “Do you believe in life after death?” Harry whispered. Severus rolled so that he was above Harry, and his left hand sought out Harry’s. He pressed their rings together, which made the diamonds glow, and kissed Harry’s mouth gently, deeply, lastingly, and said, “I believe in this, Harry, my love. I believe in us, in our love, in our power together, in our future. We will survive.” “Do you feel it?” “I feel it, yes.”“Then why are you afraid?” Harry whispered. “I don’t know what to feel, I don’t have a feeling yet. But I’m afraid, too. The one thing Voldemort could actually take from me now – you, our future. I can’t let that happen. I can’t let us down.” Severus kissed him again. “You won’t,” he said. “I believe in you.” Harry kissed him back. “I believe in you,” he said. “You’ll stay right by me?” “I’ll never leave your side. I promise.” They fell silent. Harry pulled his glasses off and left them by his wand on the night table. He settled himself back into the contours of Severus’ body and listened to their breathing mingle together as they fell asleep, clinging to these hopes and dreams, and their faith and love in and for one another. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same disclaimer: still don't own it, you know that! Chapter 21: Dear Father, Draco stared at the parchment in front of him. That is the last time I will write that, he thought. Father. The empty Great Hall was quiet around him. It was not yet dawn. Draco had had a feeling he might need a bit of time to compose this letter, and had risen early. He picked up his quill and resumed. Thank you for your recent letter. It has put my mindat rest, as I was indeed concerned about your angerconcerning the events of last summer. You are correctin assuming that my rebellious phase is over. I hadbeen thinking about writing, but was not sure whetherI would still be welcome to receive the Mark after myuncertainty and disobedience. I have had the opportunity to do a great deal of thinkingover this past school year, and you are right, as usual.This is indeed the winning side of the war, even thoughthe fools who run this school will never see that. I wantto fight by your side, serving our Master as father and son. In fact, I am so eager to serve, I wanted to ask if it wouldbe possible to receive the Mark and my initiation ritessooner than my graduation. Think about the possibilities,Father; I could spy on Dumbledore, Potter, and all thosefools from Gryffindor House who worship that muggle-loving fool who calls himself Headmaster. Please believe that I am most eager to serve the DarkLord and you, Father. I have grown up over the pastseven months, and am ready to embrace my destinyas a Malfoy son and heir. I await your answer eagerly. Your dutiful son,Draco L. Malfoy Draco quickly re-read his words. Good. He thought it still sounded like the old version of himself. Cold, respectful, and just a little awkward due to the prolonged gap in their correspondence. Draco sealed the letter with the Malfoy ring. Mordred would come with the morning post, expecting his letter. Lucius, Draco knew, would not give up until he had an answer. In the mean time, he would eat breakfast. Not that he was hungry. But it was something to do, something to quell the panic that threatened to make itself known if he paused to consider the option of fear at all. No. He had to keep himself busy and not brood. Hesitating would only make him a victim. He had to be strong. So that he could, as he had phrased it, embrace his destiny as a Malfoy son and heir. Only not in the way that his father was expecting. * * * By the time the rest of the students had entered the Great Hall for breakfast, the owls were already circling. Draco had made himself sit quietly and wait for Mordred, who made a beeline for him at the first possible opportunity. Draco attached his longish letter to Mordred’s leg and said, to allay any suspicion, “Bring an answer back quickly, Mordred.” The silver-grey owl hooted softly and took off. Across the table, Harry caught Draco’s clouded gaze. He said nothing, just held his gaze for a minute. Draco opened his mind and allowed the other to read his letter, or at least the general content. Severus would have been able to get it word-for-word. This was good enough. And he could count on Harry not to say anything. Hermione was great, Draco had to admit, but sometimes he just didn’t want to talk. Not for commiseration, not for sympathy, not for strategy. He just wanted to deal with it by himself. But Harry could know. There was no harm in that. Harry knew the limits. “Holy shite, Harry, that’s an enormous ring!” Seamus’ voice suddenly interrupted their reverie. Draco glanced at Harry’s hand and noted that his friend had forgotten (had he?) to hide his engagement ring that day. He looked at Harry, who shrugged modestly and said nothing. “Is it – what kind of a ring is that?” Seamus asked curiously. Harry seemed to consider this carefully. “It is the ring of the house of my family,” he answered after a moment’s thought. “Oh,” said Seamus, sounding surprised. “I didn’t know the Potter House had a ring. I’ve never seen it before.” “I never said the Potter House had a ring,” Harry said, gathering his things. “Well, see you all in Magical Creatures in a minute. I just have to run up to the Tower for something.” “Wait,” Draco said. “I’ll come with you.” He grabbed his bag and went after Harry, leaving Seamus looking still-confused over Harry’s last reply. As they hurried out of the hall, Draco said, “Harry!” in an urgent tone. “Mmm?” Harry was walking quickly. Probably didn’t have any school things with him at all, Draco figured. “Wait. Can we talk for a minute? I don’t care if we’re late for class.” Harry looked at him and slowed his pace, though he didn’t stop. “What’s up? Can we walk and talk?” “No. It’s too… look, can we just go in here for a minute?” Draco gestured to an empty classroom to their left. Harry looked at it, looked back at the expression on Draco’s face, then just shrugged and went inside the room. He turned to face Draco, waiting. “What’s up?” he asked again. Draco hesitated. “I just realized,” he said, realizing he sounded a bit lame, “somehow, I guess, when you said that to Seamus about your ring and stuff… it just hit me how serious this whole thing with you and Severus is, and I’m aware of how much that changes things for you, in terms of what kind of risks you want to be taking and stuff. Crap, this sounds totally corny. I just wanted to say that I know, maybe, how you’re feeling about all this, and that… if you don’t want to, then I really don’t want you to come to the thing with… Lucius.” Before this, Draco had sensed that he only had about seventy percent of Harry’s attention. Now he had it all. Harry’s brilliant green eyes surveyed him seriously. “That’s not lame at all, first off,” he said, without a trace of joking in his voice. “Secondly, though, my mind is made up. No one will change it, not you, not Severus, not Dumbledore, not Ron, no one. I want this all to be over so badly I can taste it. And if I need to be there for it to happen, then I’m going. If it happens to help you all, too, so much the better. I appreciate that you realize, though,” Harry said. He looked past Draco, to the windows on the far wall. “All I think about is getting through this, and just being able to live normally. I don’t know what that’s like. I know you don’t, either,” he added. “That’s why this has to happen. We need our lives back, all three of us. He’s got them right now, and I’m going with you to take them back for ourselves. For all of us.” “And what if Severus doesn’t survive this?” Draco asked quietly. He winced slightly as he saw the shudder that shook Harry’s body, despite his best efforts to suppress it. “That’s one of the risks we’ll have to take,” he said, his face white and taut with strain. “Harry, come on. Talk to me.” Harry put both his hands quickly to his face. “I don’t think I could bear it,” he said, his words muffled. “I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t want him coming, but he’s just as adamant as I am. He won’t let me go without his protection and presence.” “Are you scared?” Draco asked, his voice still very quiet. “Terribly. But what else can I do? What choice do I have? It has to happen sometime, better now than before more innocent people get killed.” Harry stuffed his hands into his robe pockets and kicked the leg of a nearby desk. “I just hate it that it has to be this way.” Draco nodded. “I just have to ask something else, though,” he said. “I mean, I know you have to do it, it’s your destiny, et cetera, and that you’re not just coming for my sake. But if he dies, would you blame me? Be honest,” he said. “Just tell me.” Harry looked at Draco in surprise. “How could I blame anyone but Voldemort for his actions, or the actions of his followers? No, Draco. I would never blame you. I’d be far more likely to blame myself, honestly. That’s what I did after Cedric… and Sirius.” Draco closed his eyes for a long moment. Harry couldn’t tell if it was from relief or sympathy. Finally, he opened them again, and said, “I had to ask, Harry. Come on. I’m holding us up. Let’s get your stuff and get moving.” “Good thing it’s Hagrid,” Harry said, moving toward the door, “he always forgives us!” Draco forced a laugh, and followed the Gryffindor upstairs. * * * Three days later, a reply came. Mordred fluttered down onto the Gryffindor table in front of Draco, bearing the usual scroll with its usual seal. Malfoy dove into his bag, hesitated for just a moment, then pressed it to the seal. He dropped the ring back into his bag, then unscrolled the parchment and read: Dear Son, I am pleased to discover that you have cometo your senses and have no further desire to wastetime in indecision or rebellion. It would havebecome my painful duty to discipline you in myown way, and as I recall, you have been none toofond of this in the past. Does the Cruciatus leavescars? I have always wondered. I have communicated your desire to be initiated andMarked earlier than we had previously discussedto our Master, and he is both willing and pleased,as I myself am. In seven days time, I will journeyto the school. You will tell Dumbledore that it ismerely a routine visit. As you did not, as usual, returnto the Manor for the Christmas holiday, this shouldnot arouse suspicion. From there, we will take aportkey to the site of the rituals. Understand that there can be no going back on this,my son. If you fail me or embarrass me, I will beobliged to chastise you before the company of theDark Lord’s loyal Death Eaters. You will not fail me.This is not now, nor will it ever be a choice. We will meet in the room adjacent to the Great Hall,behind the staff table. The rituals will only take anhour or two, and you should be able to go and returnwithout anyone noticing. I will see you in seven days’time. Come alone, and tell no one of this. On pain of death and worse, Your father,Lucius Malfoy, Esq. Draco dropped the letter. Seven days. They had seven days. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead, but at the same time, his father’s taunt about the Cruciatus leaving scars rang in his head. He unwittingly uncurled his hands and saw the extra-fine lines, hardly noticeable to the untrained or unseeking eye, streaking across his palms. Yes, it left scars, damn him, and by all that was good and worth living for, Draco would have his revenge. Cold fury took the place of his terror, and Draco embraced the cold. He re-sealed his father’s letter under a different type of seal, summoned a school barn owl that had just delivered something to the Creevey brothers down the table, and sent the letter to Dumbledore. Draco then took out his quill and a piece of parchment, and quickly wrote: Dear Father, Nothing could please me more than this arrangement.Please tell the Dark Lord that I am waiting for this eventwith great anticipation. I await your arrival in seven days’time. No one will know. Your faithful son,Draco L. Malfoy * * * That night, at dinner, a number of students received notes from school owls. It was simply a brief message that read as follows: Dear [Student’s name], Your presence is required tonight for a meetingof strategy and preparation. Please come to theRoom of Requirement at precisely 8:00pm.This meeting will remain secret on pain ofexpulsion and possible arrest. Bring onlyyour wand. Sincerely,Albus Dumbledore,Headmaster At eight o’clock that evening, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco went to the Room of Requirement. “What do you reckon this is about?” Ron asked, as they climbed the many sets of stairs between themselves and the room. “It’s probably, you know,” Hermione said, looking over at Draco, “about the plan. I bet the other students who are joining the Order will be there, too.” “Who does that include, again?” Draco asked. Hermione was still rattling off names as they Harry and Ron went ahead and led the way into the room. All the people Hermione had mentioned – Dean, Seamus, Neville, Ginny, Lavendar, the Patil twins (Parvati sitting very close to Dean), Luna Lovegood, Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan, Terry Boot – all the old DA crowd. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Lupin, Sprout and Snape were also there. The latter gave the four entering a quick, subtle smile, though Hermione in particular noticed how the dark eyes remained on Harry long after they’d broken eye contact. The room was filled with a soft buzz of interested, somewhat concerned talk. The door opened one more time, and Dumbledore appeared, strolling into the room. His appearances around the school were becoming less and less frequent, although he was usually there. The collective whisper rustling through the students attested to the rarity of this sighting, but quickly fell silent as Dumbledore came to the front of the room. He turned to face everyone with an expression of both calm and power. Power radiated from the man, and Harry marvelled again at the fact that it would be he, himself, rather than this great wizard standing before them who could defeat Voldemort. Dumbledore began to speak. “I have called you all here today for a purpose,” he said. “Time is very short, so I must be brief, or at least as brief as possible. You are all here because you have committed yourselves to becoming members of the Order of the Phoenix immediately upon graduation. I realize that this does not apply to two of you here, Ms. Weasley and Ms. Lovegood, but I need you now nonetheless. The rules of the Order are very strict and you may indeed not become full members until you leave school and have turned seventeen years of age. However, I have prepared a sort of temporary bond that will prevent betrayal, ensure secrecy and allow you to serve me for a brief time. I must know, therefore, if there is any person here who is not willing to do this at this point.” Dumbledore paused, waiting, looking round at all of them, probing their faces. No one said a word. “Are you all committed, then?” he asked, and the room was utterly sober and silent. “Then we will go ahead,” he said. He then led the students present into an oath of faithfulness and secrecy, warning them all that a serious jinx would come into effect, should any of them breach secrecy. The jinx would remove the sinner’s power of speech more or less forever, as well as leave them unconscious until Dumbledore himself decided to release them. He asked again, after explaining this, if anyone wished to leave. No one did, and Harry felt proud of his fellow students. “The time has come for me to be more open with you,” Dumbledore said, as the oath ritual was completed. “The war has begun.” A collective gasp went up. The staff, including Severus, who already knew, looked uncomfortable. Lupin had his wand drawn, pointed at the floor, his hand clenched tightly around it. “Yes,” Dumbledore said, “I know this is most distressing. We have a plan. First of all, there are four students among us who have been receiving secret extra training for the greater part of this year, and I ask you four to join me here.” Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco looked at each other, then went up. “Yes, thank you,” the Headmaster said. “This is simply to let the rest of you know that these four have particular talents and training that you do not, and if we ask them to do something and you are asked not to participate, there will be a reason. Now. Many of you will be aware that Lucius Malfoy – ” here Draco stiffened visibly, but did not move otherwise – “is a Death Eater. Many of you will also be aware that Draco here has been living in Gryffindor Tower since autumn. The reason for this is that Draco has been in danger from other Slytherins who have familial connections to the Death Eaters. Draco had openly expressed to his father some doubt concerning his own decision to receive the Dark Mark this coming spring. Draco made the decision to join our side back in autumn, and we are all very happy about this, I am sure. Therefore, we deemed it safer for him to stay in Gryffindor Tower, though he is still a member of Slytherin House. It is essential that Lucius never find out Draco’s true feelings on this matter. However, I also felt it essential that you all be aware of where Draco’s loyalties lie.” Dumbledore glanced at Draco and saw that the young man’s profile was solid, defiance flashing in his steely eyes. Privately, the Headmaster marvelled at the immense changes that had come over the young Malfoy since developing his friendships with Harry, Ron and Hermione, the maturing and growth that had taken place. He was stronger than he looked, by far. He was not his father’s son for nothing. Dumbledore continued. “Lucius is coming to the school in one week’s time to take Draco to the Dark Lord to receive the Mark and enter into service as a Death Eater.” Here people gasped again. Harry saw Severus’ eyes go to Draco’s face with a flash of concern which he carefully masked again. Then the obsidian gaze was turned to him. Harry held his fiance’s eyes for a long moment. “We will lay a trap both for Lucius and then for Voldemort,” Dumbledore announced in a ringing voice. “The meeting will be taking place in the room adjacent to the Great Hall, behind the staff table. We will all be there, invisible, as well as several Aurors from the Ministry who are Order members. Many of you will remember the false Alastor Moody, better known as Mad-Eye. The authentic Moody will be with us, and that is no small help. All the staff you see here will be present. While we are occupied, Hogwarts will be guarded by Hagrid and Madame Maxime of Beauxbatons Academy, who will be arriving tomorrow. The plan runs thus: we will be in the room before Lucius arrives. Draco will be brought by myself, for I do not require invisibility cloaks or spells to remain unseen. The meeting will proceed. Draco will find out any details he can before appearing to take the portkey. At this time, he will attack Lucius in a matter seeming fit to him. We will leave Lucius behind, preferably unable to follow, and take the portkey. All of us. It will take us to Voldemort’s side. We will fight, and we will win. Are they any questions?” The students seemed unable to find the starting point to the questions, but eventually someone began, and the questions poured forth. “Sir? Will all the Death Eaters be there?” Ernie Macmillan asked, awe and fear in his voice. “Yes, Mr. Macmillan, I am afraid so.” “Just exactly how many are there?” Padma Patil asked. Dumbledore looked at Severus, who said, “Twenty-two, last count.” “How many of us will there be?” Neville wanted to know. Now Dumbledore looked at Lupin. “Twenty-eight,” Lupin answered quietly. “There are five staff members, fourteen students, eight other adult Order members, including four more Weasley brothers, Arthur Weasley, plus Nymphadora Tonks, Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt.” Dumbledore spoke again. “We will meet again tomorrow night to discuss particular strategies. In the mean time, there is something else which must be shared. It is essential that we communicate everything which you need to know, so that ignorance not hinder any of us in this process. It concerns, as many of you likely suspect already, Harry Potter.” Harry listened as Dumbledore recounted the Prophecy again, to the shock and horror of many of his classmates. Harry looked away from their faces and trained his eyes on Severus’ instead. Dumbledore finished. “So,” he said, “if it has ever seemed, in the past, that Harry has received any sort of special treatment, this is the reason behind it. This is also the reason behind my having chosen Harry and his three closest friends for the extra training – not to mention the fact that they are all superior wizards – and witch – indeed, and excellent leaders. Now. You must do all that you can to prevent anything from coming to prevent Harry from fulfilling the Prophecy and putting an end to the Dark Lord. This is your task. You must prevent Death Eaters from impeding him, and you must protect him in any way that you can. There will be staff members – ” Dumbledore’s eyes flicked briefly to Severus – “watching out for Harry in particular, but he will need as much help as you can give. Harry is an extraordinarily talented wizard, and I know that you all know how many times he has escaped Voldemort before. This, however, must be their final confrontation. We are all anxious to put an end to this. I realize that the war has only now begun, and already we speak of its end. This is my hope. Your task is to help Harry do what he must do. Are we agreed?” There was silence. Dumbledore said again, “I ask you to help Harry. In doing so, you will save yourselves and the people that you love. You will grant the world freedom. Are you prepared to risk your lives in seven days’ time in order to achieve this? I will ask you one by one, for we must be committed.” He looked around the room. “Susan Bones,” he said. “I am committed, sir,” she said. Dumbledore nodded and moved on. “Ernie Macmillan.” “I am committed, sir,” he answered, lifting his chin slightly as he spoke. Dumbledore went systematically around the room. “Parvati Patil. Dean Thomas. Padma Patil. Lavendar Brown. Seamus Finnegan. Neville Longbottom. Ginny Weasley.” Draco looked at her. She looked straight back at him, answering firmly, “I am committed, sir.” “… Finch-Fletchley. Hermione Granger.” “I am committed, sir,” she said, reaching around Ron to touch Harry’s elbow lightly. “Ronald Weasley.” “I am committed, sir.” Harry glanced at Ron and saw his best friend’s face was pale but unafraid. Dumbledore went through the staff. Finally he said, “Severus Snape.” “My commitment goes far beyond this oath, sir,” Severus said, the words coming out both somewhat harshly, yet still respectfully. “But I am committed, fully and truly.” “I know, my friend,” Dumbledore answered him, a gentle smile moving across his old, lined face. “Draco Malfoy.” “I am committed, sir.” Draco’s voice was firm and steely. “And finally, Harry Potter,” Dumbledore said, turning his piercing blue gaze to him. “Do you accept the help of these, your classmates, friends, and loved ones? Will you accept their protection?” Harry was very aware of Ron and Draco standing very close to him, their stances strong and unwavering. Of Severus’ penetrating gaze on his face, and the weight on the ring on his left hand. “I accept this help and protection, sir,” he said. “Are you yourself committed to this endeavour?” Harry’s eyes flashed. “You know that I am committed, sir, with my very being.” “I thank you all,” Dumbledore said simply. “I ask you to return at this time tomorrow. You may go. Speak to no one of this but yourselves.” The room empty, a great feeling of solemnity upon all who were present. Severus did not move. Harry’s friends took note of this and left quietly with everyone else, including Dumbledore. The space between them was too large. Harry could not move, somehow. Severus came to him, instead. They stood before one another, not speaking for several moments, until Severus finally said, “If only you could have been anyone else.” Harry nodded. “I know. I know, Severus.” Severus said nothing else, just moved closer until their chests were touching. His hands ran slowly up Harry’s forearms, stopping at the elbows. Harry just waited, waited for Severus to take him into his arms, which he did, burying his face in Harry’s soft hair. “I didn’t think it would be this soon,” Harry whispered. “I’m sorry, Severus. I wish there was more time. For everything.” Severus did not speak for many moments, just held him close, as though the power of his love alone could keep his lover safe and whole. “We must make every minute of this week count,” he said. Harry pulled back from the embrace so that he could look up into Severus’ face. He nodded. “Every minute,” he agreed. “Starting with tonight.” A look of slight surprise crossed Severus’ face. “I thought you might be feeling too… serious for that, tonight,” he said. Harry shook his head, then laughed suddenly. “Never,” he said. “If this is possibly our last week together, ever, then I certainly don’t want it all to be serious. Let’s just keep doing what we do, being who we are, until then, okay? And all I want is to be with you. Love you. Feel you loving me. Now. Please.” Severus laughed gently, as Harry pushed his silky dark hair back from his eyes. “Here?” was all he said. Harry leaned forward and kissed him tenderly. “No. Take me downstairs. Take me home.” Severus kissed him back, his mouth leaving a warm trail along Harry’s jawline, neck, ears, lips. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s go home.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same disclaimer: I don't own what Joanne K. Rowling does Chapter 22: Getting One’s House in Order “Where are you going, Harry?” Ron asked, as Harry sighed, placed a short scroll of parchment in his bag and starting getting up. “Dumbledore,” Harry said. “I have to go to his office. No classes for me today.” “What did the note say?” Draco asked, nodding his head toward Harry’s bag, where it was concealed. “It’s about my wand,” Harry said. “He has to do something to it, and he said there’s something else, too, that he would explain. One or the other’s obviously going to take a long time if I won’t be around again until dinner.” Hermione looked worried. “I hope it’s not something else huge that he hasn’t been telling you for the past seven years.” Harry nodded grimly. “Yeah, me too,” he said. “Well, only one way to find out. See you guys later.” He swung his bag onto his shoulder and left quickly. Hermione looked at the staff table, where Snape’s dark eyes watched Harry’s progress with concern. “Look,” she said, nudging Ron and nodding toward the professor. Ron and Draco both looked, and it was Draco who said, “Must be really hard on him.” “Why on him in particular?” Ron wanted to know. Draco shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s hard luck on them both. And the rest of us in general. But he has a better chance of surviving, wouldn’t you say? I mean, he’s managed to betray Voldemort and stay alive for all these years now. And with Harry, it’s either or. If he dies, Severus will be devastated.” “And likewise with Harry, if Severus dies,” Hermione said. Draco nodded. “Yeah. Hard either way.” Ron looked resolute. “Well, all the more reason for us to know what we’re doing when we get there,” he said. “We’ve survived Death Eaters before. It’ll all be fine.” * * * Harry entered the Headmaster’s office with a slight sense of doom. Well, apprehension, anyway. “Professor?” he asked. Dumbledore’s chair swivelled round to face him, and he said, quite calmly, “Ah. Harry. Hello.” Harry sat down in his usual chair. “What’s up?” he asked. “Tea?” Harry nodded, and tea appeared. “Well, Harry,” Dumbledore said, “I don’t know if this has occurred to you to wonder about, but we have a question which concerns your wand.” Dumbledore glanced up at Harry over his silver spectacles, waiting for a response. “Right,” Harry said, remembering. “Because it’s Voldemort’s wand’s brother… it can’t work against his, can it?” Dumbledore smiled. “That is indeed what I thought,” he said. “I have been in contact with Theseus Ollivander. He tells me that this should not be as difficult as I had expected. I was almost afraid that we would have to get you a new wand, and this is hardly an ideal time to be training with a new wand.” “So what do we do?” Harry asked with interest, taking out his wand and looking at it. “You recall that the core of your wand comes from Fawkes,” Dumbledore said. “Yes, of course I remember,” Harry said, looking at Fawkes in all his radiant splendour. “Well, we are going to do something called sanctifying your wand, Harry,” the Headmaster said. “It means spelling it against any former relationships it shares with another wand. We do this with Fawkes’ permission; essentially, what the spell comes down to is asking Fawkes to disown from himself the particular tail feather which is contained in Voldemort’s wand.” “And how does he do that?” Harry asked, fascinated, still watching the phoenix. “He sheds tears on your wand,” Dumbledore said. “I have already communicated with him on this matter… he is most willing to be of help, though it pains him. You surely understand how powerful any part of a phoenix is, do you not? Any part of Fawkes which is removed from him weakens his power, be it ever so slightly. After all, he does have quite a few feathers.” Harry looked up and caught Dumbledore’s quirking smile. “I suppose so,” he agreed. “Alright then, let’s do that.” “Give me your wand.” Harry held it out without a word. Dumbledore took it from him and examined it closely. He then took it over to Fawkes and began murmuring soft words in a language Harry did not recognize. This went on for some time. Eventually, just as Harry’s back was beginning to cramp (he didn’t want to move and disrupt the spell), the murmuring stopped. Harry watched as the phoenix shed two largely, pearly tears upon Harry’s wand. As they touched the holly wood, they glowed golden, reminding Harry of the night when Cedric died, and his wand had been connected with Voldemort’s, shining beads of power moving back and forth between the two wands. The golden beads sank into the wood and vanished. Fawkes shed another tear, and Dumbledore stroked his beautiful head softly. “Thank you,” he murmured. He turned back to Harry and held out the wand. “There,” he said. “That is finished now.” Harry put it away. He waited. “Harry.” Harry looked at the old wizard, waiting for what dreadful new discovery might be coming. “I have looked into the Prophecy further,” Dumbledore said. Harry felt fear seize his heart like a cold, iron band. He started fervently wishing that Severus were there. “What?” was all he could manage. The wizard’s face was very serious. “I am afraid,” he said, clearly very reluctant to finish the sentence, “that it must indeed be you who kills Voldemort. I have looked into this matter thoroughly since the last time we discussed this. The Department of Mysteries is quite certain on this point, although there is always an element of uncertainty in every Prophecy.” Harry felt numb. He should have known. “So…” he began, trailing off. He picked at a small piece of fluff on his robe. “So how to I prepare myself for that?” he asked finally. “I couldn’t even do the Cruciatus Curse two years ago, and I’ve hardly been practising.” “That is good to hear,” Dumbledore said dryly, “as I would be forced to punish you if I had discovered you had been cursing your fellow students with an Unforgivable. The trick, Harry, I believe, is to harness all that anger you carry inside you and channel it outward. It may be something that you can only do when the time comes.” Harry sat there, trying to absorb this. “How do I do that?” he asked, not meeting Dumbledore’s eye. He could never do it. He simply wasn’t powerful enough. Dumbledore surveyed the young man. “Harry, do you remember, during your childhood with the Dursleys, there were several inexplicable incidents. One involved you running and jumping behind some dust bins and ending up on the school roof. Another involved your hair mysteriously growing back immediately following every hair cut your aunt subjected you to. You do know to what I am referring?” Harry nodded, trying to understand where this was going. “Yeah,” he said, allowing the confusion he was feeling bleed into his voice. “These were examples of your own, unrefined power,” Dumbledore said. “You had no wand and did not know that you were a wizard. Moreover, you were a child. Still further, you were not intending these things to happen. Can you imagine how much more powerful you could be, if you only intended them, understood them, and had the ability to control them? You do have this power, Harry. You also carry with you a great deal of anger: anger at your upbringing with the Dursleys, anger at your parents’ premature deaths, anger at Cedric’s death, anger at Sirius’ death, anger at the Prophecy. All of these come back to Voldemort, as you know full well. Channel this anger, Harry, and you will find the ability you need to bring him down. Think of everything he threatens by living. Of all he could do to your friends. To this school. To Severus. To yourself. You must find a way to do this, Harry, to focus your powers into your feelings. As you demonstrated so clearly in your fifth year, disciplines such as Occlumency and Legilimency are things that you have the ability to master – as Severus tells me you are indeed doing now – but your primary capabilities have to do with the strength of your emotions. Remember, Harry, that it was your love for your godfather that saved you from Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic. Think of the strength of your love for your friends. Think of the strength of your love for Severus. The strength of your heart, Harry, is your best and most reliable ally. Control is all that you lack.” “And I’m supposed to learn how to control my feelings in six days, am I?” Harry bit out. Dumbledore, to his surprise, smiled. “You see,” he said, “you are angry already. You won’t need control over your anger, Harry. Just the ability not to go over the edge and lose yourself to the oblivion of rage. When you are truly enraged, you will not need a wand to cause damage around yourself.” Harry felt chastised. “Okay,” he said uncertainly. “Do you have any other questions?” Dumbledore asked. “Er…” Harry struggled to think of something intelligent, but his brain remained stubbornly empty. “No.” “Then you may go,” Dumbledore said. “I thought I was excused from my classes.” Harry was confused. “You are. I thought you want prefer to spend the time differently,” Dumbledore said simply. “Revise your defensive and offensive spells. Be with him. Whatever you prefer.” Harry felt a rush of gratitude. Here was Dumbledore, calmly telling everyone, including himself, that he had no doubt that Harry could defeat Voldemort, but was still sensitive enough to let Harry spend what might be the last week of his life – or Severus’ – in the way that he wanted. “Thank you,” he said, looking straight into Dumbledore’s light blue eyes for the first time. He got up, placed his empty tea cup on the Headmaster’s desk, and left. As he’d expected, Severus was there, downstairs in his parlour, waiting for Harry, having been excused from classes himself. * * * “Hey, Draco,” Seamus’ voice called, over the noise of Gryffindor Tower, “can you show me that again? I don’t think I did it properly.” Draco put his book down and said, “What’s wrong with it?’ “It breaks too easily,” Seamus complained. The shimmering – well, shaking was more accurate – Shield spell around the Irish boy was about to collapse. Dean threw a light Reducto curse at it and the silver shield dissolved. “See?” Draco consulted the previous page. “Let’s see… how did you pronounce the incantation?” he asked. Seamus repeated it, fumbling. Draco rolled his eyes. “Well, there’s your problem, Finnegan,” he said. “You can’t pronounce Latin worth shite. How on earth have you gotten through six and a half years here without pronouncing your spells properly?” “I usually help him,” Dean inserted, as Seamus glared. “Listen, Ferret Boy,” he growled, “when Gaelic’s your first language, all the other ones look hard to pronounce, okay? Just tell me how to say it properly.” And so it went. Hermione appeared after a while, and joined Draco in helping their fellow Tower-mates refresh their defensive spells. Ron appeared and impressed them all with his ability to disguise himself to look like a pole. It was a tricky, cross-over spell that combined transfiguration with stealth spells (such as the Disillusionment Charm). They only abandoned their review when Seamus and Draco started making snarky comments about how uses Hermione might find with Ron’s newfound ability. Draco leaned back in his chair, stretched and yawned widely. “Where’s Harry?” he asked. “Probably downstairs,” Ron said. “He was here for a bit after supper.” “Where was I?” “How should I know? Quidditch practice, maybe?” “Oh, right. Hmm,” Draco said, “odd, to be thinking about quidditch right now, this week. It seems so… surreal, somehow.” Ron nodded. Hermione stood up and said, “I’m going to be, guys. See you in a bit?” This last was just to Ron, who nodded. “I’m actually pretty tired, too,” Ron admitted. “It’s after midnight.” “I guess we’d better get some sleep, too,” Draco agreed. “Look, mate,” Ron said. “Are you alright? It’s just that I know this is a lot to deal with. Are you dealing okay?” Draco nodded. “Sure. I’ll be fine.” “Seriously,” Ron said. “I mean, we’re talking about you killing your father. Honestly, Draco. That’s got to be, well, a big thing to be thinking about.” “Well, it probably helps that I’ve been fantasizing about it for years,” Draco said acidly. He held out his hands, palms up. “Tell me what you see there,” he commanded. Ron gave him a dubious look. “I was never one for Divination, mate, you know that.” “No! I mean, just look at my hands and tell me if you see anything unusual.” Still looking dubious, Ron bent over and studied Draco’s palms. “Oh… I see,” he said, in a different tone. “What are all those little lines?” He turned his face back up to see Draco’s response. Draco pulled his hands away. “Those are scars,” he said. “Scars from the Cruciatus Curse. I first got it when I was five years old.” Ron gaped. “From your father?” “Whom else?” “That’s barbaric!” “It’s what I grew up with, Ron,” Draco said. “Do you understand? It won’t be that difficult for me to remember why I hate him enough to do this. I just hope that Harry can do the same.” “It’s hard for him,” Ron said. “He’s a gentle person, really. I know you’ve pretty much just gotten to see his angrier side over the years, but he hates the thought of killing.” “And I don’t?” Draco said. “It’s not about what kind of horrible person you are. It’s just something that has to be done. I think it would be right for me to deal with my father. And Harry has no choice about it being his job to do in Voldemort. I also happen to think it’s quite appropriate, given that said Dark Lord killed his parents and godfather.” Ron was quiet, nodding. “I suppose you’re right,” he said after a while. “Still.” “I know,” Draco said. He yawned again. “It’s past my bedtime,” he said, getting to his feet. Tucking his book under one arm, he said, “Good night,” and went upstairs to the seventh-year boys’ dorm. “G’night,” Ron said, heading for the stairs leading to the Head Student dorm. * * * “Ginny?” Ginny looked up from the uneaten remains of her lunch to see Neville standing before her. “Neville,” she said, surprised. “This is… a surprise.” “Can I sit down?” “Sure, why not?” she answered, as though she didn’t care. “Er – how are you… these days?” Neville asked awkwardly. “Me? Oh, fine,” Ginny answered airily. She gave him a pointed look. “Not that you would know.” Neville blushed. “Gin, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about our last fight.” “The one that happened two months ago?” Ginny said coolly. “The one you haven’t talked to me about since it happened?” “Yeah, that one,” Neville said, growing even redder. “I’m sorry that – that it’s taken me so long.” Ginny looked at him. “So, why now?” she asked. “Why bother at all?” Neville shifted uncomfortably. “I just thought, with all this going on, it would be good, if we were on good terms again.” Ginny gave a derisive snort. “What, are you afraid I’ll ‘accidentally’ hex you in the crossfire?” “No!” said Neville, then said, “Just – just, if one of us dies, or something – I wouldn’t have wanted there to be… this… between us, still.” “Oh,” said Ginny in a quieter voice. “Well. So, you’re sorry. Is that it?” “I shouldn’t have said most of those things I said,” Neville said quickly. “I’m really sorry. You were – better to me than you should have been. Better than I deserve.” “Oh, come off it,” Ginny said, but her voice was gentler. “I said things I shouldn’t have said, too. I’m sorry, too.” Neville looked relieved. “It’s okay,” he said. “Are you – do you think you’re ready, for this thing?” “I don’t know,” Ginny admitted. “I guess you never do until you’re actually in the situation.” Neville was quiet. “I admire Draco,” he said. “That takes guts.” Ginny was very quiet, too. “Yes, it does,” she said. “I want to do the same thing.” Ginny looked at him, confused. “To your parents?” “No! Because of my parents!” Neville exclaimed. “Bellatrix Lestrange!” Realization dawned. “Ohhh…” Ginny said, feeling stupid. “Right. That makes sense.” “It’ll be a real time of reckoning and revenge for a lot of us,” Neville said. Ginny realized that he was right. “Ginny?” “Yeah?” “Are – are things okay with us, now?” Neville stammered. “Yeah, we’re still friends,” Ginny said, sighing. “Just friends?” Ginny shot him a look. “Well, yeah,” she said. “I think that’s all we should be, don’t you?” Neville was quiet for a bit. “I really screwed up, didn’t I?” “Pretty much, yeah,” Ginny said, without nastiness. “Do you like someone else?” Ginny hesitated. “Yes,” she admitted, after a moment. “But I don’t think he likes me.” “Is it Draco?” Ginny looked up quickly. “Is it that obvious?” “No, but I know you. I also think you’re probably wrong about his feelings,” Neville said. “I mean, I think he’s a very confused guy. But after this is all over, and he doesn’t have all that crap to deal with… you never know. It could happen.” “And you’d be okay with that?” Ginny looked at Neville. Neville shrugged. “Well, I know you’re right, you and I are over. You might as well be happy. And now that he’s changed, he’s a really decent guy.” Ginny smiled for the first time in their conversation. “Thanks, Neville,” she said. “I guess we’ll just have to see. And what about you?” she turned the tables back on him. Neville blushed. “Well – nothing’s happened or anything, but me and Luna – we – well, I don’t know, exactly,” he fumbled. Ginny smiled understandingly. “Don’t worry,” she said. “When this is all over, things will probably get clearer.” “Ginny, do you recall who we’re talking about?” Neville said. “Not exactly an easy girl to read!” Ginny laughed. * * * Harry lay in the crook of Severus’ elbow, caressing his engagement ring with one finger. Severus’ body was warm against his back, down the backs of his legs. They had not moved since making love, but simply lay where they were, cherishing every moment of being together and feeling themselves together. “Harry?” Severus’ voice was low and still a bit husky. “Yes?” Severus kissed the back of Harry’s neck, his warm breath in his hair. “Do you know the expression, to get one’s house in order?” Harry thought. “Yeah, I think so. Doesn’t it basically mean getting your affairs in order before you die? Dealing with your will and all that?” “Yes, but it refers more to your mental/emotion state,” Severus told him. “It means getting all your disputes settled, your relationships sorted out, like that.” “Oh. Are you saying we should do that?” “I just think it would be good if you told me if there is anything we still need to talk about, or resolve, or anything at all like that. I want your forgiveness, if there’s a place where I still need it.” Severus pressed his face into Harry’s neck, making him shiver. Now Harry laughed. “Okay,” he said. “Why ever didn’t you just throw me to the ground and shag me like you did just now on my very first night of school?” Severus, surprised, laughed, too. “You were eleven,” he reminded Harry. “Fine, third year,” Harry amended. He pulled himself gently off Severus and twisted around in his lover’s arms, wanting to face him. “Seriously, Harry. Is there anything?” Harry thought for a long time. “I think I’ve already forgiven you for everything I used to be angry about,” he said. “You understand about Sirius now, you were actually saving my life in first year, and again in fifth year with Umbridge, plus you gave her fake Veritaserum that time… well, there was that one thing, in my fourth year, with the Triwizard Tournement, when my name was first pulled – you said something about how I was always crossing line – I was mad about that for a long time.” “Still?” Harry kissed him. “Of course not,” he said. “Besides, I think we crossed some lines jointly since then.” “True,” Severus agreed, when they could speak again. “It’s probably not that common for a teacher to be engaged to his student.” “I hate it when you call us that,” Harry complained. “Sorry.” “I forgive you,” Harry said, very melodramatically. He considered. “No, there’s really nothing,” he said. “We’ve talked so much, I think everything’s out in the open. Is there anything I need to apologize for?” Severus thought, too. “No,” he said finally. There were times, Harry knew, when No was a terrible word, but now it was beautiful. He pressed his mouth to Severus’ again, wanting to drown himself in the heady sensation of being with Severus this intimately. Severus’ long fingers stroked Harry’s hip, in that way that made Harry hard every time. Severus gave a soft laugh as he realized what he’d done, again. Harry gave him a mock glare, and rolled over so that he was above Severus. He nudged his erection against his lover’s, eliciting that delicious moan Severus always gave when he did that. Without a word, Harry summoned the lubricant from the table at his side of the bed and applied it quickly. “I guess we’re not going to sleep yet,” he said softly. “Not if I can help it,” Severus said, almost in a growl. Harry loved that voice. Its low, throatiness almost did him in every time. He laid his body down on Severus’ and proceeded to kiss and lick every inch of skin he could reach. Severus gasped with pain when Harry bit his nipple – as he always did. Severus’ fingers, meanwhile, were caressing the crack of Harry’s ass, somehow he’d gotten into the lube without Harry even realizing it, and was sliding fingers (plural!!) inside him. It sped Harry’s process up considerably. He pushed Severus’ legs apart, and entered him quickly, hard. Severus’ fingers didn’t move from where they were. Harry began to thrust; long, smooth strokes, hitting against that spot, the spot that made Severus writhe, and he was writhing beneath Harry, moaning, but still working his fingers. He had never done that before, and Harry marvelled, fleetingly, at the amazing sensation of having Severus in him while being in Severus at the same time. Their mouths locked, and now another part of them was joined. Harry was breathing Severus’ air, straight from his lungs; the same breath was passing back and forth between the. Harry pulled his mouth away just long enough to crunch himself down to give a quick, viciously hard suck to Severus’ flaming erection. He returned his mouth to Severus’, then pulled away and did it again. It never took more than twice, when they were like this already. Severus cried out and came hugely, come splashing everything. Harry thrust a few more time, heard himself cry out, too, and came with a rush inside his fiancé. “Merlin, Harry!” Severus gasped. “You are far too good at that! You get better at it all the time!” Harry grinned wickedly and pulled himself out of Severus, laying himself across the older man. “I know,” he said. “That’s why you love me.” Severus took Harry’s face in his hands. “No, you git, that is most certainly not why I love you!” he said. “I love you for a thousand reasons, none of which include the fact that you are an amazing lover. That is merely a side benefit.” Harry laughed and allowed his head to be drawn down into a dizzying kiss. “I love you, too,” he said. “Just because I am, as you’ve said, irresistible?” “No,” Harry said. “Of course not. I love you for a thousand reasons, too. They’re hard to explain. It’s just that you’re you, and no one else is, so no one else will ever do.” “Do you mean that?” Suddenly, Severus’ eyes were very dark and very opaque. Harry looked at him. “Of course I do!” “What if I die?” His voice was quiet. “You won’t die.” “I could.” “You won’t die, Severus, I couldn’t bear it. You have to survive, just for my sake.” “But what if I did? Would you never love again?” Harry attempted to imagine this, and failed. “No. I can’t even imagine it,” he said. “If you die, Severus, I’m going with you, and that’s that.” Severus smiled reluctantly. “Don’t say that,” he said. “You’re young. You’re full of life. You should live, if you survive and I don’t.” “Stop saying that! Besides, you can’t stop me.” Harry got an extremely stubborn look on his face, one Severus knew better than to argue with. “Fine, then I guess I’ll have to live if I want to win this one,” he said teasingly. “That’s right,” Harry told him, tracing the outline of his lips. “For our sake. Not just mine. You deserve a bit of good, decent life, too.” “And just what makes you think a lifetime of you will make my life decent?” Severus retorted. “Oh, that does it! Now you’re just begging for it!” Harry said, laughing. “Besides, it’s not me who put this ring on my finger, now was it?” “No,” said Severus, “but as far as begging for it goes… I believe it’s my turn, anyway.” Harry laughed again. “So much for sleeping,” he said, rolling onto his back and pulling Severus over him. “Admit it, love, this is vastly preferable to sleep.” Severus began doing things that made it very difficult for Harry to talk normally. “That – would be – hard – not to – admit – oh, Merlin, do that again! Oh, Severus… don’t stop doing that – I’ll die if you stop doing that right now – OH my – yessss…” And so it went. The rest of Hogwarts was quiet, with the exception of Albus Dumbledore, who was pacing his office into the small hours of the night. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: still don’t own these characters Chapter 23: Till Death Do We Part The next few days passed with frightening speed. Harry and his friends alternated between testing each other’s defensive spells, hexes, jinxes, curses, and stealth. In successive meetings, Dumbledore had trained them in how to appear invisible. Well, not exactly – he had merely lent them some of his own powers, temporarily, without ever explaining exactly how it worked, or how he himself was able to be invisible without a cloak. During these times, they tended to talk very quickly, checking their information, planning against certain strategies the Death Eaters might use, and so forth. The rest of the time, they were depressingly quiet, thinking. Always thinking. Finally, it was the last evening. The evening before the day. Harry and Draco were surprised to see Ron get up, breaking the silence in the Gryffindor common room (everyone else had gone to bed), kneel in front of Hermione and take her hand, in what seemed an uncharacteristically suave manner. Harry noted the fluid grace with which Ron had dropped to the position, and decided his best friend must have practised – Ron was very athletic, but graceful movement had never been his strong suit. “Hermione,” he said, very seriously, as Hermione’s eyes went round with surprise, “I love you. You know that. I don’t know what’s going to happen the day after tomorrow, but if we both survive, will you promise to marry me someday?” Harry and Draco exchanged a shocked look. The proposal itself was not unexpected (as Ron and Hermione had been nearly joined at the hip since summer), but the suddenness, as well as doing it in front of themselves, that bit was unexpected. Hermione’s brown eyes filled. “Yes!” she said quickly. “Oh, Ron, I love you, too! No matter what happens, I’ll always love you!” She threw her arms around his neck in what looked like a strangling hug. Ron didn’t seem to be complaining, though. When they finally broke apart, Ron set her gently back on her chair, and said, “Hermione, I just wanted to tell you that I asked you that now, with Harry and Draco here, deliberately. I’ve been waiting for a time when the four of us were alone together. They are our best friends, and I wanted you to know that I am prouder than I can say to be engaged to you, and I want everyone to know. Also, it’s apparently official pureblood custom to have witnesses at an engagement – I know you don’t really like all that rot, but it would make my parents happy. I couldn’t think of people I would rather have had,” he added, looking at Harry and Draco over Hermione’s shoulder. Hermione nodded, smiling. “It’s fine,” she said, turning to beam at the other two. “I – I also have this for you,” Ron said, taking a small box out of his pocket and holding it out to Hermione. She took it from him and opened it, gasping in wonder. It looked to Harry like a fairly standard muggle engagement ring; white gold or platinum, with a square-cut clear diamond catching the light in sparkling facets. It was beautiful, though Harry supposed that one always felt their own to be the loveliest. Hermione held it back to Ron without a word, holding out her left hand. Ron took the ring out of the little box and slid it onto her fourth finger. She bent toward him and whispered to him for several moments, some of which made Ron’s face very red. A little later, they were all still there. “This is so surreal,” Draco said, staring into the fire. “I can’t believe it’s so soon.” “I know,” Hermione said, twisting her ring lovingly. “It could be the end of everything.” “Stop that,” Harry commanded. “It’s just going to be the beginning of everything. Okay? No more defeatist talk. This is a trap that our side has planned. We’ve set the terms, and we are going to win. Is that clear?” All three of them looked at him in surprise. “What?” Harry said. “We will win. We must. That hope is all we’re living for right now, right? So let’s make it real. We can’t afford to be afraid, or to doubt ourselves.” Draco looked at his friend with admiration. “You know, Harry,” he said, “if I hadn’t been able to admit how very much I admire you before we got to be friends, I think I’d have to, now. You’re totally right. Chins up, all. Let’s go into this thing strong.” There was a knock at the portrait. Harry glanced at the clock. It was past one. He went to open it, knowing who it was. Severus stood there, out in the shadows. He didn’t say anything, just devoured Harry with his dark gaze. Harry turned and looked over his shoulder at his friends. “I’m going downstairs now,” he said simply, and they all nodded, accepting it. Harry slipped out of the tower and stepped forward into his lover’s embrace. “I was just about to come down,” he said, with a low laugh. “I want to go to bed,” Severus said, smiling sheepishly, “and I know I can’t sleep without you. Git.” Harry slipped his arm through Severus’. It was far too late for anyone else to be up and about. “I’m insulted that you would even try,” he chastised. “You know I would have come. We were bonding up there.” “Oh?” Severus inquired, though Harry thought he detected a note of feeling left out. “And what did I miss?” “Ron asked Hermione to marry him some day,” Harry said. “And I assume she accepted, did she?” “Of course.” “Did Weasley manage a romantic proposal, at least?” “Actually, yes,” Harry said. “I was surprised that he asked her in front of Draco and I, but he explained about the pureblood witness thing, which makes sense.” Severus looked at him. “Do you wish that we’d had witnesses?” he asked. “No!” Harry said. “It was perfect as it was. You know that!” He squeezed Severus’ arm affectionately. Severus looked around, then stopped Harry in a patch of moonlight in the hall, coming in through a high window. Slowly, deliberately, he placed his hands on Harry’s waist and his mouth on Harry’s, kissing him long, gently, and unhurriedly. Harry immersed himself in the kiss completely, not caring at this point if they were caught. They might have less than twenty-four hours left. What did it matter? When it was over, Harry looked his fiancé in the eye, their faces still only inches apart, and said, very firmly, “I love you, Severus. I will always love you and only you. Forever.” Severus smiled, and Harry thought again about how different the man looked when he did that; a completely different person than the bitter, resentful man he’d encountered in his first year at Hogwarts. “I love you, too, Harry,” he said, a slight catch in his voice. “Always, only you, my love. Always.” And, much later, in the deep comfort of the bed they had shared for nearly eight months, Severus whispered, his face just far enough from Harry’s to look down into it, his weight sweet on Harry’s body, “Remember this, my love. When you are in doubt, remember this. Remember us. I believe in you. I believe in us. We will be together like this again.” “Soon?” Harry whispered. “Very soon.” Severus’ voice was reassuring. Promising. “Severus…” Harry’s arms tightened around his lover. “I love you. I won’t forget this.” “I know that, my love.” * * * It was supper. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco sat tensely at the table, waiting, trying to force themselves to eat. Even Ron could not manage it. Dumbledore had told them that Lucius was arriving sometime after supper. Dumbledore had arranged a signal to let the other students and staff know when to put the plan into action. They had gone over everything a million times, it felt like. The non-Hogwarts Order members who were coming were already there, waiting in Dumbledore’s office. The next moment, Dumbledore caught Draco’s eye and nodded. Draco stood abruptly. He looked at his friends. “Well, this is it,” he said tensely. “Thank you all, in advance, for doing this. I expect to see you all afterward. I must go. He is here.” He quickly took in their encouraging looks, looking at Harry last. Harry simply held his gaze, trying to communicate strength, courage, and power. Draco nodded, turned and quickly strode off, his hand clenched around his wand in his robe pocket. Once he had left the Hall, a feather-shaped flash of fire appeared in the air before Harry, Ron and Hermione, and Harry could see others like it at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, as well as the staff table. “That’s it,” he said, his heart racing. “Come on, let’s go.” They stood and went quickly to the room behind the staff table. Luckily, dinner was nearly over anyway, and most of the other students were already gone. Harry opened the door and went inside. He glanced at his friends. Ron asked, “So, we wait until everyone’s here before we go invisible, right?” Hermione nodded tensely. The door opened and Severus came in, white as death. He looked around the room, and seeing no one else but Harry, Ron and Hermione thus far, went quickly to stand behind Harry, whispering in his ear, “Remember last night.” Harry nodded, the tension in his body not fading, but changing, somehow. Becoming manageable. Harry was distracted from his thoughts just then as Moody, Tonks, Kingsley and Arthur Weasley all came in. The door opened again, and a number of the other students, as well as Lupin, Sprout, McGonagall and finally Dumbledore entered. “Take your places,” Dumbledore said. He looked around. “Who are we missing?” The door opened again, and the last remaining students entered. Dumbledore counted under his breath. “Just the Weasley twins left,” he said. The door burst open and Fred and George appeared. “Good,” said Dumbledore. “Take your places,” he said again, for the benefit of the late-comers. “Thank you. Assume invisibility. I will make us all undetectable as well. Please remember to keep silence.”A heavy silence fell as they waited for Draco to enter the room to wait for Lucius. After several nerve-wracking moments, the doorknob turned, and Draco entered. He gave the briefest of glances to the seemingly-empty room, and sat down with an air of studied non-chalance at the small wooden table in the room. A single candle sat on the table. Harry watched Draco drum his fingers, then stop himself, folding his fingers together to still his nervous energy. The door opened again, and Lucius Malfoy strode in. The tension in the room was palpable, though Harry was willing to bet that it would have been, even without the extra twenty-seven concealed people there. Lucius gave Draco a cursory glance and sat down across from him at the table. “Draco.” “Good evening, Father,” Draco said, and Harry was relieved to hear Draco’s cool, controlled tones. “Yes, it will be a good evening,” said Lucius in a steely voice. “You will make me proud tonight, my son. It has been too long.” Draco did not wince. “Tell me what will happen,” he requested, in a careful, polite tone. “It is very simple. We take a portkey. You receive the rites which will make you a Death Eater.” Draco forced a laugh. “That’s not very detailed, Father. What portkey will we take, and when? Will it bring me back here afterward, or will we take a different one? Will it be spelled for a certain time? I just want to be sure that my absence will not be too prolonged. Dumbledore, curse him, is always watching me these days. For good reason, I might add. If he knew this were about to happen, I should not like to consider the consequences.” Lucius considered this, surveying his only son with cool detachment. “Alright,” he said, deciding. He withdrew a silver quill from his pocket. “This will be the portkey,” he said. “It is spelled to take us to the Dark Lord’s side in ten minutes. It is spelled to return you here, but not for any given time. I do not know exactly how long the rites will last, and I would not presume to guess.” “Where are we going?” “That,” Lucius said with definitiveness, “I will not tell you. Nor am even I certain. I am familiar with the location itself, but I do not know exactly where it is.” Draco looked at his Father. “Will the rites hurt me?” he asked in a softer voice. Lucius shrugged indifferently and studied his fingernails. “Perhaps,” he said. He shot Draco a malicious look. “It shouldn’t be anything you’re not used to,” he sneered. Draco nodded, accepting. Then, in a very calm voice, he said, “Petrificus Totalus.” Harry hadn’t even seen Draco take out his wand, but there it was, pointing at Lucius, as the latter froze in his chair. Had he been standing, Harry knew, he would have fallen over. As it was, the full body-bind curse simply bound him to the chair. His body could not have fallen over if it had tried. Lucius’ had not even had time to draw his wand. Now Draco searched his father’s frame. “Expelliarmus,” he said, still very calm. Although Lucius was incapable of movement, Harry thought he could see the rage practically boiling in Lucius’ wide, cold eyes. “That’s better,” Draco said. “Now, Father, I have a few things to say. I’ll make them quick, since I have a portkey to catch, along with a few friends. First, thanks for nothing in terms of my upbringing. You almost succeeded in making me as horrible a person as yourself. I do not consider myself your son, and count myself lucky for it. You are no longer my father. And as far as the whole deal with forcing me to join Voldemort – yes, I know I said it, and I’ll say it again, as I watch my friends triumph over his dead form – and as far as all the years you tortured me, nearly to death, I might add – for your information, the Cruciatus does leave scars, you see them? – this is all I have to say. Good bye, Lucius.” Draco hesitated for just a moment, then aimed his wand at his father’s heart. He summoned all his strength, and said, “Avada Kedavra.” A shot of green light burst from Draco’s wand and hit Lucius square in the heart. The rage in the steely eyes faded and became nothing. Dumbledore suddenly appeared, and dashed to Draco’s side, putting one hand on Draco’s shaking shoulder, and at the same time looking down on Lucius’ form. “Finite,” he said, removing the body-bind. Lucius’ still form did not move of its own volition, but slid off the chair and onto the form, lifeless and unmoving. Dumbledore turned to Draco now. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly. “I had to do it,” Draco said, and his voice was steady. “I’ll be fine.” Dumbledore searched his eyes. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Draco shook his head stubbornly. “No,” he said. “Let’s finish this. I want to go. We have a job to do. That was just step one.” Dumbledore probed the intense young man. “Are you certain?” “Yes, sir,” Draco said. He looked down on the form of his father. “He never loved me,” he said. “And I never loved him. It’s alright.” Dumbledore nodded, understanding. He checked the clock on the wall and turned to the others. “You may appear,” he said. “We have approximately four minutes. Come over here.” The group unsheathed itself from the invisibility spell and moved in clusters toward the old wizard. “Join hands. This portkey is too small for all of us to be touching it. Trust Lucius,” he added. Severus was on Harry’s right and Ron on his left, with Hermione on his other side. Ginny stood next to Hermione, and Draco wedged himself into the circle between her and Seamus. When they were all holding hands, Dumbledore and Lupin, at the ends of the circle, picked up the quill together. “Just a few moments now,” Dumbledore said. They waited. Harry looked at Ron. He could not bring himself to look at Severus, but feeling an actual heat in the ring his lover wore, throbbing into Harry’s right hand. And then it came. A howling whirl of wind and confusion and disorientation, and then they were struggling to keep their footing. Severus did not stagger and helped Harry stay on his feet. They were on the outskirts of a dark grove. It was very dark and quite cold, and the wind was blowing hard in the trees. It looked to be late autumn, perhaps November, wherever it was. Despite it being early spring at Hogwarts. Harry heard Severus draw in his breath. “Do you know this place?” he whispered, making as little noise as possible. Severus nodded. “I have not been here in nearly twenty years,” he said. He nodded with his head in the direction of a clearing. “They will be there,” he said. Dumbledore caught Severus’ eye along with the nod, which he returned. “Follow me,” he said. He turned to look back at Harry. “Harry,” he said. “Be careful.” Harry nodded at the Headmaster. “Let’s go,” he said. Draco stationed himself on Harry’s left (Severus had not budged from his right), and Ron and Hermione walked closely behind him. As they walked, Dumbledore’s power grew visibly. By the time they reached the grove, the old wizard was nearly radiating silver light. Power. Harry felt stronger. Dumbledore stepped into the clearing. “Tom!” he called, his voice ringing. Harry looked around, trying to let his eyes adjust to the dim of the firelight in the grove. He could see shadowy Death Eaters, cloaked and waiting, hanging back. In the center, closest to the fire, was Voldemort. A shiver of panic ran through Harry. Severus and Draco both seemed to feel it and responded to it. Draco nudged Harry’s elbow with his own, as though to just remind his friend that he was there, and Severus simply moved closer to Harry’s side. Voldemort’s eyes were red and glowing. When they tracked down the source of the call, they widened visibly. “Dumbledore!” he hissed. The Death Eaters all made sounds of fear and disapproval. “Where is Lucius?” he spat. “I am afraid that he was been rather permanently detained,” Dumbledore said politely. He raised his wand. “Petrificus Totalus.” Antonin Dolohov dashed forward and deflected the spell with a Shield spell conjured with a swiftness that Harry was forced to admire. The body-bind curse was deflected and bounced off into the grass. Voldemort laughed. “Is that the best you can do?” he called. “Pathetic, Dumbledore, really!” “Oh, no, Tom,” Dumbledore said, pleasantly enough. “I think we will find that it is you who are pathetic. There will be no victory for you or your followers tonight. This is the end, Tom.” “Don’t call me that!” Voldemort hissed. “I gave up that name long ago! As you should remember!” Dumbledore nodded. “Indeed, I do remember, Tom,” he said calmly. “It was then that you also gave up many other qualities, such as mercy, wisdom, understanding, patience, decency. I am afraid that I have gotten rather tired of disciplining you over the years. Tonight will be the last night, Tom.” “Avada – ” Voldemort began, but Lupin shot a Reductor curse at the killing curse. The two bolts of fire melded and fell, hissing, into the grass. “Someone deal with the werewolf!” Voldemort snarled. Dolohov moved forward and began to duel with Lupin. At the same moment, Rudolphus Lestrange shot something at McGonagall who, with Sprout as her second, deflected it and began to duel. Soon, the Death Eaters were swarming them. Bellatrix Lestrange was upon Harry and Draco instantly, not seeming to notice Severus still with them. “So, little Malfoy,” she shrieked, “you’ve killed your father, have you?” “I did,” Draco said, conjuring a Shield spell around the three of them. “And we’ll do the same with you before the night’s out, you hag!” “Immobilus,” Severus said, stepping away from the Shield in order to still Bellatrix’ movements. “No!” Neville cried, and ran forward. “Leave her to me!” Severus looked at him, exchanging a look with Harry. “Alright,” he said. “Draco. Help him, if he needs it. Protect him.” Draco nodded, and moved into second position behind Neville. In the dim light, Harry could see Kingsley battling with MacNair, the Weasley twins hexing Rudolphus now, Bill helping Charlie to his feet from where Nott had blasted him to the ground, Seamus and Dean shouting taunts at Crabbe and Goyle, Parvati shrieking as Jugson did something which caused both Padma and Lavendar to scream and fall. Meanwhile, he did not have a chance to watch Neville’s duel with Bellatrix, though he could hear Draco’s shouts now and then. Where were Ron and Hermione? Oh, still with him. Good. And Voldemort. Voldemort was watching Harry, with a look more hungry than Harry could imagine. It made him feel intensely uncomfortable. And afraid. Merlin. He had been a fool to think there was even a chance that he could survive this. How could he possibly defeat those glowing eyes, which were drawing ever nearer to where he stood, rooted to the ground, afraid to take his eyes off the battles around him, but unable to run away from the predator approaching. “Harry… Potter,” Voldemort said softly, his high, cold voice carrying through the noise. “You have taken my favourite servant from me. I see that you have, protecting you, the traitorous son of my servant and the one man who has ever defied me by leaving my service. You will all pay. All three of you.” Harry was still frozen. Suddenly, Severus’ words came back to him from the night before. Remember this, my love. When you are in doubt, remember this. Remember us. I believe in you. There was no choice. “No,” he said. “No, Voldemort. You will pay tonight, for everything that you have done.” Voldemort gave a shrieking laugh. “You are very amusing, Potter,” he spat. “But I would find it far more amusing to watch you die the way I watched your father die… but not just yet. It always bothered me that I didn’t make James suffer more, first. There was so much we could have done together, for my amusement. And then Lily. Ah, Lily… she was a beautiful woman, Harry – but you wouldn’t know that, would you now?” Harry felt the rage rising in him. He did not connect this with the fact that the wind was suddenly blowing a great deal harder around them. “I know who my parents were,” he snarled. “And I know that you’ll never defeat me, Voldemort. You never did get to hear the Prophecy, did you? But I did. I heard it from Dumbledore’s Pensieve, and you don’t even know what it said,” he ground out. “I’m going to win tonight, Voldemort. That’s what it said. And that’s why we’re here.” Voldemort’s eyes grew wide. “No!” he said. “That cannot be! I am far too powerful for a useless rag of a half-blood boy like yourself! There is no way, Potter!” Harry grinned widely, though still angry about the taunt. “’Fraid so,” he said. “Too bad you never heard the part about how you’d accidentally give the child born as the seventh month died powers of your own, eh? That might have been worth knowing. Attacking me as an infant has only served to make me your equal and then some. Ironic, isn’t it?” Voldemort’s fury was reaching the boiling point. “No!” he hissed. “No!” “Yes!” Harry retorted, and shot an Impedimenta jinx at Voldemort, who (to his surprise) tripped and fell. He picked himself up, hissing and spitting, beside himself with rage. Harry noticed, with a twinge of alarm, that he seemed larger now. Taller. More menacing. Harry was suddenly distracted from this observation by the sound of Neville screaming with pain. “Neville!” Draco’s voice cried in alarm. Harry did not want to take his eyes off Voldemort, but he noticed that the Dark Lord was also looking to see what was happening. Neville was lying on the ground, clutching his ribs. His robes were spattered with blood. Draco was bending over him, his wand pointed at Bellatrix. “No!” Neville gasped. “Let me! I must!” “No, Neville, you’re hurt – ” “Draco, get out of the way!” Neville’s voice rasped. He was holding his wand with a shaking hand. “You killed the people my parents were, don’t deny it!” he shouted at Bellatrix. She cackled evilly. “You forget to mention how much I enjoyed it!” she said, laughing still harder. Harry saw an expression he had never seen before on Neville’s face: raw fury. He steadied his shaking wand hand and shouted, “Avada Kedavra!” The expected jet of green light shot out and hit Bellatrix in the face. She screamed and toppled. She writhed on the ground, still screaming in pain. “Come, Neville!” Draco shouted, pulling him up. “Go on and finish her!” “It didn’t work!” Neville sounded shocked and furious with himself. “Just do it again!” Neville allowed Draco to pull him to his feet and hobbled over to Bellatrix’ squirming form, still clutching at his bleeding side. “Avada Kedavra!” he gasped. Another jet of green light erupted from his wand, hitting Bellatrix’ chest. She was still. “POTTER!” Voldemort roared. Harry’s head snapped back around to Voldemort, and involuntarily took several steps backward. Voldemort had grown even taller, now towering at about fifteen feet, and wider than he had been, too. Harry was terrified. “If I can’t win here,” Voldemort bellowed, “then I will certainly make the rest of your life as unbearable as possible. What would you say, Potter, if I killed young Mr. Weasley and his pretty little Mudblood friend there?” “No!” Harry shouted, now noticing the wind blowing harder again. “Leave them alone!” “Crucio,” said a nasal voice from just behind them. Ron fell down, screaming in pain, as Wormtail held his wand over him. “Now the other!” Voldemort commanded. Wormtail turned his attentions on Hermione, who collapsed on top of Ron, screaming her agony. “No!” Draco ran forward, having deposited Neville safely in the trees. He pointed his wand at Wormtail and yelled, “Petrificus Totalus!” Wormtail fell down. “I will deal with you in a minute,” Voldemort hissed at him, “my precious, dead acolyte! But first, I want to see how Potter will react if I curse his lover there – yes, boy, I know – it is patently obvious. Don’t think I don’t recognize that abominable power that you are so full of, Potter. What? What is the problem? Do you love him, Potter? Were you hoping to live happily ever after with him? He’s no prize, you know – I could have told you that. But now, it seems, you’ll have the chance to choose more wisely in the future.” And while Harry stood panicking, wondering what to do, Voldemort pointed his wand at Severus at boomed, “Avada Kedavra!” “Harry!” Dumbledore shouted, even as Voldemort’s voice rang out, cursing Dolohov as he ran. “Moody! Take over!” Moody ran forward to meet Dolohov as Dumbledore joined Harry. But he was too late. A jet of green light shot out and hit Severus square in the chest. For a split second, it wreathed his entire body in green flame, and even as he fell, his wide, dark eyes met Harry’s in a moment that seemed to last an eternity. And then he was gone, his body hitting the ground with a dull thud. “Noooo!!!” Harry screamed. He felt like his very breath had been ripped away. He couldn’t think couldn’t react; all he could do was stare in shock and disbelief at Severus’ still form. It had happened. The very worst thing. He dropped to his knees at Severus’ side. “Severus,” he said, shaking him, “Merlin, please, anything, don’t let him be dead, please, Severus, please – ! You know I can’t live without you! Please! Goddamn it! Wake up!” “Harry!” Draco said, as Ron and Hermione watched Harry with shocked and grief-stricken looks. “Come on! You’ve got to – !” “No!” Harry said. He bent over Severus and kissed him, refusing to believe his lover was gone. But there was nothing, no response. Nothing. It was all gone. He stared into the open, obsidian eyes, and told himself that it was all over. “Harry,” said Dumbledore quietly, his voice catching, drawing Harry’s attention back to the fact that Voldemort was still there. Voldemort. Harry looked up at the towering, sneering, salivating Dark Lord. The person responsible for killing his parents in the flower of the youth, for trying to kill an innocent baby, for successfully killing hundreds and thousands of other innocent people, adults and children alike, and now, for taking away all the happiness Harry had ever known. “Expelliarmus!” Draco and Ron yelled together, Ron still on the ground. Harry barely noticed as Voldemort’s wand span away from him. A fury like he had never known possessed him. Harry felt it rise in him and expand far beyond him. A furious outpouring of rain suddenly began to hammer down on them, and the sky was rent with lightning. “You – !” Harry started, and found that he was too angry to even form words. His rage, he remembered dimly. Yes. Rage. He knew that. Harry summoned forth all of his rage and focussed it into his wand, vaguely aware that the storm had subsided, though the wind was still howling. There. Channelled. “Avada Kedavra!” Harry yelled, and was startled to hear that his voice seemed to fill the sky itself. There was a shriek of furious terror. He looked up to see Voldemort’s body burst into flame. Still shrieking, he staggered backwards and fell into the fire. His body exploded hugely. The remaining Death Eaters who were still fighting the Aurors and students screamed and grasped their left forearms. One by one, they all fell to the ground, and their bodies shrivelled into black ash. “It’s over,” Harry heard Hermione’s voice say in wonder, but everything was swirling before him. His hearing seemed to be fading. “Harry!” He saw Dumbledore’s old, lined face peering into his anxiously, and he wanted to say something, but the shock and grief and horror overtook him, and he felt himself slipping toward the shadows. Severus. Gone. Nothing left. Harry gave way to the darkness, and saw no more. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Disclaimer: I own only what you don’t recognize Chapter 24: In the Hospital Wing Harry woke slowly, his sense of hearing returning before anything else. Soft voices murmuring… saying his name. He tried to open his eyes, but felt that he was trapped in a deep, dark pit that he couldn’t climb out of. He strained his memory, trying to think, trying to remember why it was that he felt this way. A thunderstorm… right, the Death Eaters… Voldemort, enormous – Voldemort burning, the Death Eaters crumbling… Severus. There it was. The enormous weight of Harry’s grief slammed back into him and he gave up trying to get out of his dark pit. Hadn’t he said he wanted to die, to follow Severus? And here he was. Alive. Was he? He thought so. If this was death, it was a real rip off, he figured. If he was dead, surely Severus would be there. “Harry.” Harry managed to blink a few times. His eyes felt gritty, like they’d been closed for a long, long time. Finally he was able to open them and squint at the face above him. It was blurry. Long white hair. Long silver beard. Ah. Dumbledore. “Where am I?” he croaked. His sense of feel returned, and he realized that he was cold, and in a fair bit of pain. Shivering. He heard someone click her tongue and felt another blanket being draped over him. “You’re in the hospital wing, Harry,” Dumbledore said. His voice was quiet, but there was something else in it that Harry, in his confused state, could not identify. Harry closed his eyes again. “I want to die,” he mumbled. “Why couldn’t you’ve just let me die?” “How do you feel, Harry?” Harry opened his eyes and glared with what feeble force he could muster. “How can you ask me that?!” “I meant physically,” Dumbledore said quickly. Harry thought, then realized he didn’t care, could not possibly care less. “Not good,” he said, and closed his eyes again. “In what way? Are you cold? Are you in pain? Are you very tired?” Dumbledore’s voice was gentle, but insistent. “What does it matter? Yes, to all of them. Leave me alone.” Harry closed his eyes again. All he wanted was Severus, how could Dumbledore not realize that? He didn’t want to talk to anyone, or see anyone, he just wanted to slip back into the darkness that had held him until this point. “Harry, listen to me. Things aren’t as they seem.” He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. Furious with himself, but unable to control it, his eyes filled and began to spill over. “What is THAT supposed to mean?” he bit out. “I hope this isn’t some speech about learning to carry on and all that, that I still have my whole life to live, et cetera, because I don’t want to hear it! Don’t you understand that all I wanted, the ONLY thing I’ve ever wanted, is to be with him? Was that SO much to ask?” Though his voice was loud, shouting, Harry was sobbing now, and turned onto his side to bury his face in the pillow, despite the lancing pains that shot through him as he did so. “Harry, he’s not dead.” This stilled Harry’s sobs. “What?” he said, knowing it couldn’t be true. What was Dumbledore playing at? He’d seen Severus fall with his own eyes, felt the breath leave him, seen the look of death on his pale, beautiful face. “We worked out a spell, he and I,” Dumbledore said urgently, “so that it would appear as his death. We finally, at the end of everything, found a way to temporarily block the killing curse.” “How?” Harry demanded. “And if you knew how to do it, why didn’t you do it for the rest of us?” “Please allow me to explain,” Dumbledore said. “The spell we uncovered could only work through a bond of love. It required the lover of the victim to kill the killer. Severus and I had been discussing your worries about not being able to perform the killing curse yourself. We worked out this spell in order for either of you to save the other’s life – for had you not killed Voldemort, Severus would indeed be dead. We – I – thought it might be the only way to arouse enough rage within you to give you the power to do it. Rightly, it seems,” he added. Harry attempted to digest this. “You tricked me,” he said flatly. “No, Harry! I was only trying to help you – and save you! You know that if you had not killed Voldemort, then you and Severus would both be dead. Isn’t this better? That you live? And if Voldemort had gotten to you, then perhaps Severus would have been able to save you and allow you another chance. Do you understand?” “I think so,” said Harry, then, “Where is he? I want to see him, now!” “He is sleeping,” Dumbledore said. “Just down that way. He has been recovering, like yourself. The way the spell worked was that the curse entered his heart, as they always do, was re-bounded throughout his body by the force of love in his heart, and by the force of commitment as shown by the rings you both wear, the curse was simply extinguished. But not before it caused rather enough damage to be getting on with. He is alright, Harry, don’t worry yourself about that. Madam Pomfrey estimates that by evening, at least one of you should be able to get up and see the other.” The sheer relief of it made Harry quite weak, and, to his humiliation, his eyes filled with tears again. It was not too late. Severus was alive, Voldemort was gone, and they would be able to be together, at last. Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward and opened his arms. Harry sat up and leaned into them, sobbing into Dumbledore’s shoulder. Dumbledore patted his back gently, murmuring, “It’s alright now, Harry, it’s alright. And I cannot tell you how extremely proud I am of you. We never really doubted, any of us, that you could do it, and you have.” “I’m a killer,” Harry said through his tears, muffled against the Headmaster’s shoulder. “And so are Draco, Neville, Lupin, Moody, and, indirectly, Severus,” Dumbledore pointed out. “It was necessary, Harry. Let it go.” Harry was still at this information. “Who did Lupin kill?” he asked. “Remus killed Rookwood and Avery both,” Dumbledore told him. “And Moody?” “Dolohov. Let it go, Harry, it’s all over now. You’re free of all of this now. It is just the beginning of everything.” “But the others? Are they okay?” “The other students, and so forth? Yes. Yes, they are all going to be okay, at least. Padma Patil and Lavendar Brown have sustained some rather serious injuries, as well as Charlie Weasley. The rest have suffered only minor injuries. I’m afraid that Alastor has a few new burns on his face. He was really the only one who could match Dolohov.” Dumbledore smiled, and released Harry. “Sleep now, my son,” he said softly. “You’ve earned the right to rest.” “Will you call me if he wakes?” Harry murmured, like a child, already feeling sleep steal over him. “Of course. I’ll be here,” Dumbledore promised. * * Harry woke again, a pool of moonlight flooding his bed. Like the corridor with Severus, the night before the battle. He had to think hard to remember where he was and what had happened again. He remembered it all. Severus. Was he awake yet? He sat up gingerly, testing, and found, to his surprise, that he felt alright. Strange, he thought, that he had never asked what had been wrong with him. Probably something scar-related, he thought, and reached up to feel his scar. He couldn’t feel anything. Harry patted about until he located his glasses, found them, and put them on. Reaching for a small mirror that he spotted near his glasses, Harry examined his forehead in the moonlight. His scar was gone. He put down the mirror and looked around. Dumbledore was asleep in his chair, but stirred as Harry began to get out of bed. “Harry!” Dumbledore started. “I’m sorry! I must have just drifted off.” “How is he?” “I will go and check,” Dumbledore said. He fixed Harry with a steely eye, saying, “You stay here. You’re not up to moving around yet.” Harry nodded reluctantly and stayed put. Dumbledore went behind some rollaway curtains and seemed to hold a small conference. He came back. “It seems that Severus is not up to moving yet, either, but he requests that your beds be put together so that you can talk to each other. Madam Pomfrey and I will do this now, if you have no objections?” He laughed at the look on Harry’s face, and said, “I’ll take that as a yes, then,” and quickly strode away again. Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey first came and set up rollaway curtains all around Harry’s bed, which was at the end of a corridor, then very slowly, very carefully rolled Severus’ bed over to Harry’s. Dumbledore put silencing spells all over the area and the two of them tactfully closed the gap and departed. “Severus!” Harry said, propping himself up on one elbow. His lover was as pale as death, but managed to open his dark eyes. “Harry?” “You’re alive!” Harry reached out and very gently touched Severus’ face, not wanting to hurt him. “Of course I am,” Severus murmured, attempting his old arrogance. “I told you I would be.” “You git! Do you have any idea what I’ve been going through, here?” Harry demanded, though his voice was quite gentle. Severus smiled. He didn’t seem able to move, but when Harry put his hand over Severus’, he felt a slight pressure returned. “Silly boy,” Severus said softly. “I told you I would never leave you. I will never leave you.” Harry felt the ridiculous tears returning. He gently moved closer, glad that Pomfrey had thought to latch their beds together before she’d left. He moved himself until he was lying along Severus’ side, trying not to lean on him. “And you took death into your body, for me,” he said, just as softly. “As you would have done for me,” Severus said. “Are you in a lot of pain?” Harry asked. “Oh, just a bit,” Severus murmured sarcastically, smiling. “Will it hurt you if I kiss you?” Harry asked. “Do you think I could possibly care about that? Get over here,” Severus directed, still in a half-murmur. Harry laughed shakily, lifted himself so that he was hovering over his fiancé and very gently lowered his lips on Severus’. The last time he’d done that, he’d thought it was the last time. That he’d lost him completely. “Severus,” he whispered, “Dumbledore says this is just the beginning of everything for us. We’re free.” Severus managed to nod slightly. “I know,” he said. “I’m free to love you. Free not to be a grouchy git anymore. It feels… strange.” “Severus?” Harry’s voice was hesitant. “Yes?” “Are… are we still getting married?” Harry asked, feeling very young. Severus glared at him. “Don’t you want to?” “Yes! More than anything!” Harry exclaimed. “I just thought… maybe you wouldn’t want to. If it’s too strange, or… I don’t know.” Severus struggled to push himself up, ignoring Harry’s protests. He took Harry’s chin in his one free hand and held it firmly. “Listen, you,” he said, and his voice was stronger, “I love you more than anything, more than life itself. I think I just proved that I would die for you. I did die for you. And your love was the only thing that could bring me back. I know; I invented the spell, whatever Dumbledore may have told you. He simply helped me to refine it. I don’t think there can be any question about our love.” “Oh, Severus!” Harry felt himself go limp from the relief, and, forgetting Severus’ condition entirely, flung his arms around his lover, who fell back, with Harry in his arms. They rocked each other back and forth, laughing and crying – well, at least Harry was, though there was also a suspicious moisture on Severus’ cheeks – and finally, kissing. When this spent itself, Severus let out a small groan of pain. Harry instantly loosened his grip in remorse. “I’m sorry!” he said. “It’s alright. I’m okay. Well, I will be okay. Just let me sleep now, okay? Don’t go anywhere. Stay with me.” Severus’ eyelids fluttered closed again. Harry settled himself into his usual position against Severus’ side and lightly slid his arm across the other’s torso. “I’ll never leave you,” he promised. “You’d better not,” Severus said, his breathing growing slower as sleep took him. “Severus? My scar is gone,” Harry said, his mouth moving against the fabric of Severus’ hospital gown, just over his sternum. “That means it’s all over,” Severus said, his voice growing hazy. “No. It means it’s all just beginning,” Harry corrected, closing his eyes and gently settling himself more comfortably. “Yes…” Severus’ voice faded as he gave in to sleep. * * They were woken in the late afternoon of the next day by Madam Pomfrey, who gave them both more potions, which Severus claimed to have made. If his grouchiness was anything to go by, he was definitely feeling better. Pomfrey told Harry in conspiratorial tones, that Severus had always been a bad patient. “I heard that,” Severus grumbled. Harry giggled, exchanging a knowing look with the matron. Harry waited until she was gone. “Severus, how do you feel, really?” “Better,” Severus said. “Though still not one hundred percent.” Harry took his wand from the night table and flicked several spells toward the curtains. “What are you doing?” “This,” said Harry, sliding his hand under the blankets and then under the waistband of Severus’ boxers. His hand found Severus’ length and began to work it gently, coaxing it to life. The other gasped slightly, and growled, “You little… oh, Merlin… we shouldn’t be doing this here, Harry, she’ll hear… oh, MOTHER!” “Relax,” Harry purred, taking advantage of the fact that he was feeling entirely recovered and Severus wasn’t. “I just put about seven silencing and unperturbable charms on the curtains. And she obviously knows about us, anyway. She latched our beds together, you know.” Meanwhile, Harry kept up his ministrations on Severus’ now-hard cock, running his thumb over the sensitive head, feeling a drop of precome there. “Did she now?” Severus rasped. “Harry, if you stop doing that…” “What?” Harry asked mischievously. “I will have to punish you, later on.” “Sounds good to me,” Harry said wickedly, “but I wasn’t planning on stopping.” “Oh, please… ahhhh…” Severus’ ability to form sentences or even words departed, leaving him simply moaning his pleasure, pushing himself into Harry’s hand, hips lifting from the hospital bed. “Ohhh… yes, yes, oh HARRY!” He went over the edge, come spraying into Harry’s hand and against the blankets above it. Harry leaned over and pressed a kiss to Severus’ cheek. “For you, love,” he said. “Think of it as the beginning of my thank you.” Severus gave him the sweet smile of afterglow that he generally wore after a particularly good orgasm. “Are you forgetting that you saved my life, as well?” he asked. “I think I can manage at least that!” Harry was quite pleased to hear this, as his own erection was straining against the blankets. Severus turned on his side, with notably more ease than the he had during the night, and slipped his long-fingered hand straight into Harry’s boxers. He worked Harry hard and fast, which was good, since he was already so close. When he was just about there, Severus leaned over him and kissed him deeply, hard, tongues tangling, Harry’s hands coming up to tangle in Severus’ long hair. Harry came hard, but it wasn’t enough that it was Severus’ hand; he pushed closer, Severus’ fist still wrapped around him, rubbing himself against Severus’ thigh, too, needing to feel the closeness and intimacy they were accustomed to. They were both spent. Harry kissed Severus for a long moment. “I love you,” he said, smiling dreamily. “As I love you,” Severus replied. Then, “I can’t wait until I’m fully recovered.” “Me, neither,” said Harry, grinning. “Hey. When are we getting married?” “When do you graduate?” “June thirtieth.” “How about July first?” Harry laughed. “Sounds good.” “Is that soon enough?” “It’ll have to do,” Harry said. “Professor.” “Okay, that does it. You’re being punished later on.” “I’ll make a mental note of it.” There was a knocking sound, clearly conjured out of the air, as one could not knock on curtains. They glanced at one another and pulled away, trying to look nonchalant. “Come in,” Harry said, taking off the spells. The curtains parted, and Dumbledore ushered Ron, Hermione, Draco and Ginny through – the latter two holding hands, as Harry noticed instantly. “Hi!” His face lit up. They all started talking at once, Hermione rushing at him and flinging her arms around him, Ron hugging him fiercely, Ginny hugging him. Draco waited until the rest had had their say, then, as Hermione and Severus began talking about the other duels, Draco sat down on the edge of the bed beside Harry. They looked into one another’s eyes for a long moment. “Thank you,” Draco said quietly. Harry nodded. There was nothing else to say. “You’re free,” was what he did say. Draco nodded, too. “You too,” he said. “Yes. We’re all free,” Harry said, still marvelling at the fact. “But I meant thank you for more than that,” Draco said, very seriously. “You saved me in so many ways. If it hadn’t been for you, I hate to think what my life could have become.” Harry shook his head. “No,” he said. “Well, maybe, but I had no choice about it myself.” “You had a choice about allowing me to be your friend,” Draco said stubbornly. “I brushed you off so many times, and you persisted. You let me into your friendships, your groups, your House, and even your war. There just aren’t words for me to thank you enough for that.” “Then consider them all said,” Harry said. “Thank you, in turn, for being such a good friend. And for disarming Voldemort. That helped!” Draco grinned. “Right,” he said. “Forgot about that.” Harry paused, then held out his arms. Draco paused, too, then moved into the hug, holding Harry very tightly. “So,” said Harry, releasing him. “I notice you and Ginny…” He trailed off, raising his eyebrows and grinning. Draco actually blushed. “Yeah,” he said. “After we all got back here, and Dumbledore told us that you and Severus would be alright, it was pretty much immediate. I was going to say something, but it just happened at the same time.” “You’re in love with her?” “Yeah,” Draco said, smiling. “And she is, too, with me. I guess I really have been since you and I last talked about it, over Christmas. Apparently she was, too, though I didn’t think so. She apparently worked everything out with Neville, before the battle.” “Ah,” said Harry. “Well, I’m really glad for you guys!” “Not as happy as we are for ourselves, I promise you that,” Draco said, grinning. He looked at Harry. “I’m guessing you were pretty happy when you found out he wasn’t dead?” “You have no idea,” Harry said dryly. “I wanted to die before that.” “Yeah, figured as much,” Draco said casually. “Good thing you loved him enough to reverse it, then, eh?” Harry smiled. “Yes, it’s a good thing,” he said, letting his gaze drift back to Severus, who was still talking animatedly with Ron, Hermione and Ginny. “So, when’s the wedding?” “Day after graduation.” Draco laughed. “I guess it won’t be a secret that it started during school, then,” he said. “I couldn’t care less,” Harry said. “I’m sure.” “Besides, it started in the holidays, anyway.” “And continued during school.” “Well, yes.” At that point, Severus said, “I have a small announcement.” Everyone looked at him, so he continued. “I am not going to be teaching Potions for the remainder of this year.” Hermione looked very surprised. “Then who is?” she asked. “Madam Pomfrey,” Severus said. “I don’t want to right now. I’ve never before taken a holiday, and Merlin and Dumbledore know I need one!” “What about next year?” asked Ron. Severus looked at Harry, and interlaced their fingers. “We’ll have to see,” he said evasively. “It all depends.” “On what?” asked Draco. “Well, on what Harry wants to do now, where we’re going to live after the wedding, and so forth.” Ron looked at Harry. “Well, I’m impressed,” he said. “If the whole dying-for-you stunt wasn’t enough to secure your everlasting devotion, I’m guessing the voluntarily leaving-Hogwarts thing will be!” Harry smiled at them all, and then at Severus, and said nothing. “Harry?” asked Ginny. “What are you planning to do after this? Do you know?’ “Well, get married,” Harry told her, still smiling. “And after that, we’ll see. We haven’t talked about it much yet, seeing as we’ve only been conscious for, oh, about an hour.” “And I’m sure most of THAT wasn’t spent in conversation,” Draco snorted. “Insolent brat,” Severus said. “No respect for your elders.” “If you’re my elder, you’re Harry’s elder, too, don’t forget,” Draco grinned. Severus rolled his eyes and managed a feeble glare. “You’re lucky I’m still rather weak,” he said. “Yeah, no doubt. Well, if you’ll excuse us,” Draco said, “Molly and Arthur are here, along with the rest of the Weasleys – well, not Percy – but Gin and I’ve got to go down for dinner with them.” “Meeting the parents already?” Severus asked, raising his eyebrows. “I’ve already met them, Severus,” Draco informed him. “Christmas, remember? But yeah, this is the first official ‘hello, and why yes, I AM dating your daughter’ meeting.” They all laughed. Draco added, “And now that I have, officially, no parents, there aren’t any awkward meetings to be held with my side of the family, either.” No one else looked surprised by this, but Harry was confused. “What about your mother?” he asked awkwardly. “Turns out she was a Death Eater, too,” Draco said, seeming unbothered. “She did more spy stuff, so she wasn’t required at the regular events.” “So – when Voldemort – she died, too?” “Pretty much, yeah. Needless to say, if Ginny and I ever get married ourselves, we’ll be taking her name.” Ginny beamed at Draco, and he reached for her hand. “Come on, we should go,” he said, and waving their goodbyes, they left. Ron and Hermione looked at Harry and Severus. “Well,” said Hermione, “we should actually go and eat dinner, too. Dumbledore’s going to tell everyone what happened as soon as you’re both able to attend a meal again. He was thinking of supper tomorrow.” “Alright,” said Severus. “Provided that he announce our engagement, as well.” Hermione looked surprised. “Okay,” she said, but didn’t question it. “I’ll tell him.” Ron looked as though this made sense, too. “Well, I guess it should be alright, shouldn’t it? I mean, you’re not teaching any more, at least as long as Harry’s still a student, so there shouldn’t really be any conflict of interest, or anything.” Severus raised his eyebrows. “I think, given that Harry just saved the entire world from the most evil wizard there has ever been, that he can probably bend a few rules if he wants.” “And I definitely want,” Harry said. Then he added, “Though I still have to do my NEWT’s, I suppose. You have to help me study for Potions.” Severus waved this off. “Get Draco to help you. I’m on holidays, and you’re here to entertain me.” Harry laughed. “I have to pass, though. And then we’ll get married and go on a nice, real vacation, somewhere far away and warm, and then I’ll REALLY entertain you.” Ron moaned. “Not this again!” he said, pretending to put his face in his hands. “Get used to it,” Harry said airily. “If you think we’re bad now, just wait until we’re officially newlyweds!” Ron groaned, muttering something about thinking they had already entered that phase. The late-afternoon sun filtered in through the windows as Hermione pulled Ron up and led him away. Severus turned immediately back to Harry. “This is really quite perfect,” he remarked. “You, me, everyone else at dinner.” “You’re not hungry, are you?” “No. Just for you. Just let me be with you, feel you with me, beside me.” “Sounds good to me,” Harry said, smiling tenderly. He snuggled – there was really no other word for it – against Severus’ side and wrapped his arms and legs around him. There was a bit of a tussle as Severus’ arms and legs struggled to gain some purchase on Harry as well. “Love you.” “Love you too.”They stayed that way for a long time, eventually falling asleep. It was thus that Dumbledore and Poppy Pomfrey found them much later, when they returned to re-administer their potions. “You look like a proud father, Headmaster,” the matron said, clucking her tongue at the sight of the pair with affection. “You know, Poppy, I feel rather like one,” Dumbledore said, smiling. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: more of the same Chapter 25: Epilogue “So, what do you think?” Harry turned slightly in front of the mirror, catching Severus’ eye through the mirror, where his fiancé stood behind him. “Very nice, indeed,” Severus said, obviously impressed. Harry rather thought he was right. The ceremonial dress robes were dark green with black and silver – very Slytherin, he thought, which seemed odd, for wedding robes – were Slytherins the founders of the wedding rituals, or something? He turned around to speak to Severus face to face. “You’re looking rather nice, too,” Harry said, giving the older man a full, head-to-toe inspection. And indeed, he did. Severus smiled and ducked his head. He had gotten used to the idea that Harry found him attractive, but would probably never believe that he really was handsome when he wasn’t scowling all the time. The identical robes brought out the dark of his eyes, the silvery sheen on his shining, dark hair, and the pale hues of his delicate skin, the hollows of his cheeks, the indentation of his lips. Harry thought he had never been more beautiful. He crossed the parlour, where they had both lived continuously since the battle. (There was no more pretence of Harry living in Gryffindor Tower, especially since Dumbledore had, honouring their request, announced their engagement after the war/Voldemort announcements.) Without saying a word, Harry picked up one of Severus’ cool hands and laid it against his cheek, closing his eyes. Severus took Harry’s rather warmer hand and did the same in reverse. “You’re sure,” was all he said, his voice only slightly doubtful. He was quite obviously very sure that Harry was sure. “This is your last chance to back out.” Harry closed the last few inches separating them and looked into Severus’ eyes, opening his mind fully to his lover. “You know that I am,” was all he said. Severus probed his eyes hungrily. “Yes, you are,” he said. “Then, my love, my soon-to-be husband, let us go.” He held out his hand, which Harry took, and led the way to the Great Hall. As they entered, a great cheer went up. Harry had thought, over the past few months, that the news of their engagement had gone over remarkably well. If there were any slurs against the former Potions Master’s homosexuality, or his relationship with the so-called Boy Who Lived, none came to Harry’s attentive ears. Of course, there were the Slytherins… but they had all been strangely – or perhaps not-so-strangely – subdued since Voldemort’s defeat. Added to which, Harry, Severus, Draco, Lupin, Moody and Neville had all been awarded Order of Merlin, first class, medals, while all the other students and Order members present had been awarded Order of Merlin, second class medals as well. That had to earn one some respect, Harry thought. Besides, most of the other students seemed in awe of him. The Hall had been cleared of the desks which had filled it for the final exams, OWL’s and NEWT’s that had ended just a few days before, and it was filled with flowers and people. All the students, plus all of the couple’s guests had been invited to stay a day later than the ending of the term for the wedding. The music began. Severus turned to Harry and gave him a small smile, as they proceeded, hand-in-hand, down the central aisle. Dumbledore was waiting. Ron, Hermione, Draco and Lupin were the witnesses for both Harry and Severus jointly (they had insisted it be this way, that their witnesses be listed under both their names), and waited at the front. Hermione was holding flowers. The ceremony began with all the standard rituals. The wizarding community’s wedding rituals varied only slightly from the muggle version; the only real difference being the officialization of the marriage bond between the two partners. They had written their own vows, and although they had read them to each other beforehand, each thought that no words had ever sounded more original or beautiful. “Harry,” Severus said, facing him and holding his hand, “Through the years, we have not always gotten along. I was a lost, dark, and lonely person. But when we met, I unwittingly became your protector. And when you saved me from myself nearly one year ago, and showed me how to love, I took that responsibility on willingly. I have died for you before, and I would do it again if I needed to. I vow to you today, before this audience and these witnesses, to love you, protect you, and to be with you forever, as long as we both shall live. I will never leave you. I love you now and I will forever. This is my vow to you, my love.” Harry felt a great lump in his throat, but caught a glimpse of Draco attempting not to snicker. The Slytherin had bets going with Dean and Seamus that Harry would cry during the ceremony. He looked back at Severus and forgot them, forgot these trivial, silly matters. He had a vow to speak. “Severus,” he said, only slightly tremulously, “I love you. I have loved you since last summer, when I was finally able to see the beautiful person that you are. I have never been happier since we resolved our differences and found true love in each other. I trust in you alone to protect me, and it is my intention to protect you wherever you go. I would die for you, too, if I ever had to. I vow to you today, before this audience and these witnesses, to love you, protect you, and to be with you forever, as long as we both shall live. I will never leave you. I love you now and I will forever. This is my vow to you, who have always been my only love.” “Severus,” said Dumbledore, his soft tone carrying to every corner of the Hall, “do you take this man, Harry James Potter, to be your husband?” Severus looked at Harry, his obsidian gaze burning steadily. “I do,” he said resolutely. Dumbledore turned to Harry. “Harry,” he said, “do you take this man, Severus Silenius Snape, to be your husband?” Harry looked back at Severus and felt that his heart would burst with joy. “I do!” he said. Dumbledore smiled. “Then do as I say: raise your left, or ring hands and let the bands touch one another.” They did this, Harry shivering from the solemnity – and the feeling of power shuddering between the two rings as they touched. “Keep your eyes open and fixed on each other’s,” Dumbledore directed. Harry looked deeply into Severus’ eyes. He felt like laughing, yet it was far too serious for laughter. Dumbledore raised his wand over the rings and began to murmur the unmistakable sounds of a binding spell. This lasted for several minutes. When the soft words finally stopped, Dumbledore gave his wand a tricky sort of wave. With a sensation like a light turning on, Harry suddenly felt himself more aware of Severus’ thoughts and emotions than he had ever been before. The bond. It had worked. It was complete. “I pronounce you married,” Dumbledore announced. The creases around his light-blue eyes deepened as he smiled broadly. “Husbands, you may kiss one another.” Severus took Harry’s hands in his and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against his lips. No tongue. They had agreed. Besides, Ron had threatened to vomit. But that could not stop Harry’s hands from coming up and cupping Severus’ face, even as Severus’ hands were holding his face as though it were dearer, more precious, than all the money in the world. “I love you,” Severus whispered after, though it was nearly drowned out by the deafening applause and whistling that went up from the crowd. “I love you, too,” Harry said back, over the noise. The music began again, and he was dimly aware of Hermione beaming at him, Ron red in the face (with happiness?), Draco’s resigned smile, Ginny’s grin, Lupin’s hearty pat on the shoulder as they passed him, all of it was a blur as they recessed down the makeshift aisle. When they had exited the Hall, Harry turned to Severus. “I can’t believe it’s over already!” “It’s not over yet,” Severus told him, smiling. “There’s still the whole reception. That, as I have heard, is the less-pleasant part.” Harry cuffed him lightly. “Come on, now, it will be nice. We planned it ourselves, remember?” “I highly doubt,” Severus said emphatically, “that you will be unable to prevent Ron and Draco from doing something that embarrass me, at least, greatly.” “Well, I’ll make it up to you,” Harry promised, grinning and conceding the point. Severus raised his eyebrows. “And how will you being doing that?” he asked, his voice going seductive. “Don’t even start that now,” Harry said, laughing. “They’re all about to come rushing out of there. Come on, let’s get to the ballroom before them. We have to do the whole receiving line, remember?” Severus groaned, but allowed Harry to drag him off. “So, tell me again about Malta,” he said, as they walked, arms wrapped around each other’s waists. “It’s supposed to be very warm and beautiful,” Harry told him again, smiling. Severus never seemed to tire of hearing about it. “Lots of beaches, with, at least in the pictures, lots of smooth, golden sand, gentle waves, clear water, a light breeze so it doesn’t get too hot. Servants to bring us drinks, food, whatever libation we require. And at night, Severus, at night, there’s just us, and a whole month of nothing to do but be together.” “I can think of a few things to do,” Severus said. They had reached the ballroom. Stopping just outside the doors, Severus turned to his new husband and pushed him gently up against a stone wall, his hands against Harry’s shoulders, trapping him. He lowered his mouth to Harry’s and kissed him deeply, as though drinking him in. Harry felt his knees go weak from the added intimacy of feeling Severus’ thoughts, emotions, and desires through their new bond, and held his husband close, revelling in the kiss, as they plundered each other’s mouths once again. “So,” Severus said, “according to this silly ‘reception’ custom, I suppose it is not acceptable to merely take one’s new husband and disappear into the beckoning sunset while all the guests are still present?” “That’s right,” Harry said sternly. “No sneaking away from one’s own wedding. Merlin, I thought I’d married an intelligent man! The things I have to tell you!” Severus growled at him, though smilingly. “Potter,” he began, but Harry interrupted. “Excuse me?” he said innocently. “I believe that would be Potter-Snape, if it’s all the same to you.” Severus shrugged conceding. “Nevertheless,” he said, “I am thoroughly looking forward to punishing you for that comment on our honeymoon.” “As am I,” Harry reassured him, biting his lip enticingly. “But, first thing’s first. Admit it, you’re longing to be congratulated and fawned over by all those people!” “Oh, you are ASKING for it,” Severus growled, but he made no protest as Harry interlaced his fingers with his own, waving at the first guests to make their way upstairs. And as the last few guests filed by (Ron had made Hermione wait until the end, which had been a good thing, as she had had to be forcibly pried off Harry’s neck and certainly would have held up the line), Harry turned to Severus and, just for a moment, before going in, buried his face against Severus’ neck and thought again about how he could do this for the rest of his natural life, and how he must be the luckiest guy in the world. “You aren’t, you know,” Severus said, reminding Harry that he could hear his thoughts, “I am.” “No, you’re not. I am.” Harry raised his face and kissed his husband tenderly. “No, I am, you insolent prat.” “No, I am, you grumpy git.” “I love you.” “I know that.” “Whips, Harry, do I have to say anything more?” “Later on, yes, I’d love to hear more about that! In the mean time, though, I’d settle for a good fucking, right here.” “We should go in.” “I love you.” “Yes, I believe I knew that already,” Severus said. “Come on, they’re all waiting for us.” Harry kissed him quickly and took his hand, still suffused with gratitude toward the entire universe for letting this day come to them at last, despite everything. “Let’s go inside.” THE END Review, please! I will love you forever if you do! And come and find my other story (soon to be stories!) on here! I can also be found at thesilversnitch.com, skyehawke.com, and the glassesreflect.net mailing list (see Potter Slash Archive).
10168160	Sins and Prayers	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Kageyama Tobio, Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsurou, Tsukishima Kei, Ushijima Wakatoshi", "Fandom": "Haikyuu!!", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by encreepted", "chapters": "5/13", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-07T00:00:00", "words": "9,089", "Additional Tags": "Religion, Alternate Universe, Beliefs and Rituals, Angst, Dark, Romance, Awkward Sexual Situations, Light Dom/sub, Oikage Focus, One sided UshiKage, Seven Deadly Sins, envy - Freeform", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	In the ancient years of excessive devotion and spirituality, the reign of God-like figures were supreme. This phenomenal occurence was extending throughout the whole world and people living in those years didn't had much of a choice but to embraced the beauty of religion.Philokalia, a small town of the large Siete Province, was one of the cursed place to be born with at that era. A beast-shaped-rock that was named Envii centering Philokalia was believed to be it's holy deity. The rock itself is quite massive, almost an elephant-size. Hence, Envii earned its prestige sanctity and the vicinity of it's resting spot was the very place where certain rituals were being executed. The practiced of sacrificing human living souls were made in exchanged to be blessed by Envii. It became part of their so-called culture and behind the well-accepted tradition were the leaders of the town authority, the Kageyamas. Kageyamas were the kinds of aggressive and controlling commanders. It was brute force that made them achieved their place at the top position. They were also the ones that started a historic record for their sacred stone. With that, the family founded the existence of their village and so they were patronized divinely by their avid admirers that happened to be the majority of their community. Concluding that Envii deserves offering, the said tradition of sacrificing of living souls was presented to public and was welcomed wholeheartedly. This ritual were done peacefully, passing to generations after generations without any hindrance, until the time of Kageyama Tobio.Kageyama Tobio was a young heir of the household of legal murderers. He was the only raven-haired Kageyama that ever existed. All of the other members were blonde-haired and with panic, his family gathered the oracles around the Siete Province and it was prophesized that it's a sign of a reborn epoch. The exact words of the oracles were, "Thy child; A death of the old, And darkness shall unfold."And they interpreted it as the new Kingdom with an upcoming enlightenment to Philokalia.And so, Tobio was treated royally. At his innocent years of age, he witnessed the cruelty of his own parentage and those under of their influence. But such crime were deemed right to him.Once every year, November first to be specific, three humans were being sacrificed to worship their rock God. Kageyamas were the ones to pinpoint the fated individuals to die. It wasn't randomized but it was unfairly selected from those family they weren't pleased by. Or sometimes, those who were crazy enough to volunteer were granted to join such ritual.By oppression, these three chosen mortal were being held captured and kept away from public including their left behind families that were given support to counterbalance their loss. The Kageyamas' residence were the prison grounds for them in seven days. The mansion was enclosed by wide stone barriers and the steel tall gates were secured by guards, and so, no outsider knew or even dare to asked what was happening behind those walls.Afterwards, the chosen three living souls wearing red blindfolds will be drag out of the Kageyamas palace and will be deliver to the center of the town and then encircle their Lord, Envii. Each persecuted martyr was tied to a wooden cross that were placed with equivalent length to form a triangle around the sacred rock. Hands and legs of the three martyrs were extended and wired tightly on the plank, making them unable to protest for their rights to live. Three sentinel holding a spear made of waxed bamboo ending with a sharpened metal will stab each of their assigned human sacrifice, purposely thrusting from behind to make the bloods splatter towards their respected deity.Then there were nuns around chanting, "Bless us O'Lord, for we have given you fresh blood and souls of trinity to serve you in heaven", to support the priests that were spilling holy water at the bloods that was spurted to covered Envii.The expectators were a mixed of amusement and mortification. But in the deep blue wide opened eyes of young Tobio, the execution was nothing but a real nightmare. Though several years after, it became a normal necessary event for Tobio. His pity and horror for screams of pain and mercy evaporated in thin air as time passed by. Not a hint of discomfort was presented on his developed strong composure.And Tobio reached the much awaited maturity, aging his eighteenth year of life where he was the one to took the duty of governing their town. The crown had already been passed to him and the villagers were celebrating his title as the new King. The people were praising him, singing "Halleluyah for Our King, O We fear you; Lead us to your chosen path, O We live to serve you."He felt powerful. He felt confident. He felt like one of the Gods.Things were going smoothly, his butler, Ushijima Wakatoshi helped him to be aware of all the things he needed to be aware of. And the most important event of his first year as the lord mayor is to held the yearly barbaric offering ceremony for their deity, Envii. Within two months, he should already have his desired three candidates for the said upcoming holy occassion.As he thought he was ready, his father flooded him the procedures of the seven days cleansing of the three hostages in their own manor.Tobio was not so sure anymore if he can survived day one."During the first day, you have to cleanse their flesh. And by that, you yourself will dry their sexual desires." His father said wearing an accustomed face, as if it was an ordinary concern to tackle about."Father, what do you mean?" Tobio made an effort to hide his embarrassment in his voice. He's not so innocent when it comes to eroticism. Yet, he's not that blunt about such matter to his own father and so he tilted his head and creased his brows to show decency for his own good."My son, it means just that. Let me show you the room where they will be tie." The older Kageyama vocalized as he guided his stiffening son through their basement.He hadn't noticed the path they were taking existed before, perhaps it was that confidential. As they walk deeper, the previous brick walls turned to Egyptian styled blocks that were covered with encrypted letters and symbols that Tobio cannot comprehend.Upon reaching the end of the tunnel, his father unlocked a chained room. In front of him was three beds with white blankets and the walls were clean and plain. Faint smell of burnt leaves creeped him out but what disturbed him the most was the morbid carving statue of a human (who was painfully a lot similar to his own facial features) eating sexual organs displayed on the corner right of the room.While the young heir was struggling in conflict of his own, certain destitute villagers had established hatred for the Kageyamas. The Oikawas and Kuroos had formed a secret revolutionary faction, calling their group 'Living for Freedom.' They weren't idiot to accept such system their little town was regulating and the need to defend the minority was strong.Oikawas owned the Philokalia Local Hospital (PLH) and they were popular enough because of their new discoveries in medicines. On the other hand, the Kuroos were known for their best cow milk products. Needless to say, both families were granted advocates to help them carry on their campaign. It was a difficult labor making a perfect plan for rebellion but the alliance of these families are pioneered by their young talented leaders, Oikawa Tooru, twenty two years old and Kuroo Tetsurou, twenty three. Both continued their parents idea of acknowledging human rights and ceased the ugly tradition of sacrifing humans for a mere stone. Will Kageyama Tobio be able to carry his family's name with pride? What are the plans that Oikawa Tooru and Kuroo Tetsurou have in their minds?What will be the outcome of the soon faithful meeting of Oikawa Tooru and Kageyama Tobio? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Laying on the bed of a lonely room was a tired Oikawa Tooru. Sleep was being a difficult chore at his age though this was mostly because he was so hook reading books about astronomy (Oh yes it's that interesting, who can blame him?) late at night after his hospital duties. But, it wasn't an excuse to be lazy in the morning. The pain of opening his exhausted heavy shutted eyes was real especially after it fixated to stare at his wall post, encrypting the bold handwritten letters; 56 days prior to the Offering day. That was all the greeting he needed to face the day with vigor. He took a quick shower using the cold tap water that he despised so fucking much but it made him wide awake and after doing so, he scanned his wardrobe to select his attire. Tooru wore his black button down collar shirt, white jeans and red leather shoes and with a pleasure in his style, he grabbed his shoulder bag and finally went out of his room. His kitchen offered nothing but bread and how he missed his mother preparing a feast on the table of a healthy breakfast but his independence beliefs made him live alone. Tooru puffed a heavy sigh and for a moment he stared hard at the bread. Sure, it was hard to be on his own but it felt satisfying to possess self liberation. He cut the plain bread into smaller size and rolled it on some milk powder just because he can and that it tasted really good when he chewed the softness of the bun and when the milk melted on his tongue, it just felt so damn right that he had the control in whatever he wanted to do as his lips curved into a wide grin.He brought himself at Kuroos' residence, trespassing Tetsurou's room with a broken door lock that was suppose to be fixed months ago but who knows why it was still not and he was so ready to greet his goddamn friend that was still in deep sleep and in an instant, his sweet smile turned to a bitter frown. "Kuroo, wake up! The meeting will start soon! And did you ever get the map from that..." His eyeballs rotated at the side, he still can't remember the name but his blurred memory recalled the description. "From 'that blonde guy with such nice golden eyes behind his glasses' you are in contact with?" His voice was full of disdain, he's a bit frustrated because their meeting was already two days late. Timeline wise, they should already had the head count of the participants needed for their rebellion. But the lack of map held up their conference and he can't help but be pessimistic, 'Cause what if they fail this invasion in Kageyamas' grounds? What if this offering continue for more years? What if their town will be forever miserable?' Tooru knew these thoughts won't, in anyway, help the situation but unconsciously, dealing with what if's became his hobby."Come on~ My Comrade, give me five minutes. I waited until midnight for Kei.""Kuroo..." 'So it's Kei.' Tooru swore he will try his best remembering that name. "I know, I know. Just go out and wait in the living room. Talk to Mama and Papa or something." Kuroo curled up from his bed, yawned without caring to cover his morning breath."Your parents already had gone to the farm... Ugh, just don't take your sweet time, okay?" Tooru didn't wait for any response anymore as he went on his way, leaving his friend in peace.After sitting on the couch for an hour, Oikawa sighed in disbelief when Kuroo still had the guts to smirked at him. He was so close, so so close, to cut that bedhair but thanks to the large scroll Kuroo was holding he was able to hold his inner sadistic nature."Here. Kei wasn't able to release this early since the security was high." Kuroo handed out the sealed scroll that will soon reveal the outline of Kageyama's place. All the glory from his family business, Tetsurou occasionally delivered some of their goods and had made some connection inside the Kageyamas. He bumped into Tsukishima Kei, a blonde librarian of the household and their first exchange of smirks and words did the trick. Oikawa's brown eyes lit at the map, trembling excited hands removed the burnt seal at the middle and opened it wide on the table. "Very interesting how they manage to keep their place secretive...until now."Inside the high enclosed walls were five separated buildings. The enormous main house stood twenty or so feet from the main gate, then there was a garden in between the steps to the left, of which was the library. The farthest right building was meant to be the dormitory for the workers inside the Kageyamas grounds. At the back of the three upfront buildings were a forest-like barrier before the two structures, a chapel named Mary and a tower that only the Kageyamas were allowed to enter."Hey hey, don't frown too much Oikawa, you'll get wrinkles." Tetsurou saw Oikawa's face twisted more and was about to retort back but he gripped the other's shoulders tightly."That Kageyama Tobio was having a fever, so I think the offering day will be on hold for a bit. Loosen up buddy, we've got everything under control." Kuroo knew how serious their agenda was, but he also knew how bad the effects of being infuriated than necessary and Oikawa being infuriated than necessary was not very pleasing to deal with."Fine. But, I'm taking care of my skin properly and rationally speaking, I won't get wrinkles at this age, I'm too young for that." Tooru twirled the map back to it's original ringlet, placed it at the side in his bag then stood up."Of course~ Such a young, hot, and smartass doctor we have here.""Of course~" Tooru headed out and Kuroo followed. Their secret place for the meeting was the abandoned emergency room in the hospital minutes away by walk from Kuroo's residence. Certain people arrived just in time and they started to brainstormed and continued it for five days.The consecutive meetings was a success, they formulated that they needed atleast 570 members to break in the Kageyamas' grounds. Which was not a problem, they can ask for support in Sephoria and Tiberias, some of the towns in the Siete Province nearby Philokalia.A necessary relinquish from their planning was decided. Tooru was about to asked for three days leave from hospital work but his father requested a home service. Normally, he would decline that offer since his mind ached to unwind from earth and the local library had some new imported books but..."Kageyamas were asking for a personal doctor. It's been a week and the young heir is still suffering from high fever. I actually recommended you to take care of Kageyama Tobio."The agreement was immediate and after some arrangement, here Tooru was, out from the horse-drawn carriage, standing at the entranced of the strong erected house he's going to break down soon. A sick, fragile and weak Kageyama Tobio will be trusted to the young doctor Oikawa Tooru, will the Kageyamas regret their decision of approving the presence of the said doctor? Will the butler Ushijima Wakatoshi be able to keep an eye on his sick master? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- A marbled pathway and the fair distribution of potted green plants alongside were in between the front gate and, bigger than their hospital; than any structures Tooru had gone into, the main house of Kageyamas. It's visual interpretation on the map was in no comparison to it's physical existence. Tooru's widened eyes could not contain the entirety of the residence appearing before him.He was lost in bewilderness, visibly amused. He stopped, never knew he did until the three escorts that had accompanied him turned in his view, their bored gaze set on him and their faces showed that they had expected such reaction. He sniggered, brushing off his stupid moment and he earned a bland response from the other three.Tooru wanted to wander more, wanted to grasp the entire space before coming inside, but the escorts (that were seriously no fun to be with) would probably deny his request for a roundabout tour. Manifestly, the clear purpose of him being summoned here was not for a walk on the moon and they continued their straight course without further interference.Passing through the wide timber door was the presentable Tooru and the unfriendly escorts beside him. Tooru must be imagining it, but the gravity inside was different.An ombre brown haired gentleman was standing on the ground hall and the calmness of his edgy features presented that he had been waiting for them. After the required acknowledgement of their arrival, the escorts excused themselves to went out and closed the door behind, making Tooru felt that he was enclose in another universe. "Welcome, Doctor Oikawa Tooru. I'm Ushijima Wakatoshi, head servant for the Kageyamas." Ushijima begun to get wary of the said guest. The doctor was too humble on the appearance with a realxed smile but he cannot seem to read what's in beneath. Unpredictable was his intuition on the man he bowed at. "Thank you for the introduction, Mister Ushijima Wakatoshi." Tooru returned the polite bow at the bulky tanned Majordomo. "May I lead you to our youngest Master?""Please do so."Tooru got the chance to observe the house that showed elegancy and royalty, all thanks to the room of Kageyama Tobio that was located in the fourth floor. The red carpeted staircase with it's golden hand railings, the crystallized chandeliers, statues of angels and the paintings that featured saints and roses without thorns were indeed beautiful. Tooru felt envious, the luxury was forbidden to be desired by him and by all the non-Kageyamas outside of this mansion.His thoughts completely vanished when they reached the fourth floor.It was oddly plain.Walls were empty, doors were non-extravagant compare to the doors in the previous floors and the ground was nothing but a bare waxed wooden plank. The temperature in the area was cold, it shouldn't be, the sun was still up in the sky this afternoon and the windows were covered by a thick white curtain, 'It shouldn't be this cold', there's no way the air would circulate around.Tooru's skin hairs stood and no matter how hard he tried to shake the turmoil forming in his state, it was undebatable that he was damn scared inside this unfamiliar territory of the enemy."Doctor Oikawa, we have arrived." The majordomo confirmed the room in the farthest left was their destination. Upon advancing inside the room, Tooru was greeted by the previous Lord Mayor Kageyama, the First Lady, and the newly Lord Mayor lying sick on the bed, the sleeping Kageyama Tobio. It was a mere second, but Tooru was aware of the eye contact of Ushijima and the pair Kageyamas. His uneasiness was easily swept away by the preceeding formal introductions. If there's anything he would be always successful at, it's to wear his frontal mask as a professional doctor regardless of his personal premonitions. "I was against for hiring a doctor your age, but your father spoke so greatly about you." The ex-Mayor said, smiling at him."You can trust my father words, your Honor." He responded with confidence, smiling back."Haha, is that so? Ushijima, please give the report of our young Lord Mayor difficulties this week." Tooru accepted the folder handed out to him. Opening it revealed a single paper with the details: Vommited twice this week. High temperature didn't change. Body and head felt heavy. Eating was very poor. "These symptoms was supposed to be just a normal fever. There must be another complication for his fever to span into a week." He stated and started to form theories about the cause."I'll leave our young Lord Mayor to your care, Doctor. Ushijima, please assist our guest." "I shall do my best to be of service, your Honor."With that, the Kageyama couple left the room leaving Tooru with Ushijima and Tobio."The tools and medicine supply will arrive soon, Doctor." Ushijima said and guided him to sit on the comfy chair near the bed. It didn't take awhile before another butler knocked on the door and went inside the room, bringing in the medical tool box. He was disallowed to carry his own and he understood the protection needed for Tobio. He's not planning to poison him, anyways. Even though it crossed his mind, he just couldn't do that to any patient. Tooru was really a decent doctor."We only have the basic cure for fever and if there's any other medicine needed, kindly request it to us and we will provide." Ushijima was assured that they can give any prescribed remedy since the Kageyamas owned a herbal garden and that they had connections outside Philokalia for such matters."That would be a great help." Tooru took a good look on his patient. The young heir was pale but it made the redness on his cheeks very visible and Tooru could compare him to a baby angel.He gently placed his palm on the temple of Tobio and it was hot as expected. But then a foreign coldness creeped up from the touch to his whole body when the jet black haired Kageyama roused, navy blue eyes exposed."Ugh..." Tobio blinked hard, thrice, before glaring at the stranger in his side. "My Lord, here is Doctor Oikawa Tooru to check up on your sickness." Ushijima informed immediately to avoid unnecessary guessing from Tobio."You're a doctor." Tobio sounded too complaining."That is right. And you're a patient, young Tobio." He knew it was very unrespectful to call their Mayor by first name and it could be the end of his life if he offended Tobio. But Tooru took the challenge of bravery.Tobio was shocked hearing his first name, but it was indeed to his liking. It was a refreshment from all the pressure of his Mayor title. "Doctor Oikawa, my head is pounding and my body is aching. I feel like dying."Tooru smiled, he was more than satisfied with the response, his life was not in danger anymore and that Tobio was suffering. With all honesty, he wanted all the Kageyamas to suffer. "Don't worry, you'll feel better soon." His smirk grew as he moved his hand under the chin of Tobio."W-what are you doing?""My job.""Job?""Doctor's job, young Tobio. I'm checking your temperature." Tooru expanded his hands and when his thumb slides the ear lobe, Tobio flinched."Drop the young." Tobio groaned, looking away. Fuck his ears for being sensitive."But of course... young Tobio." Tooru chuckled lightly when Tobio pouted. He patted him and then stood up to ask for a pen and paper."Please take this and excuse us, we will be going on our way and we will be looking forward for the check up results." Ushijima handed the requested materials."I'll be back in an hour, Doctor." Ushijima and the other butler bowed at him and headed out of the room.Once the door shutted close, Tooru sat back on his chair. "How many glasses of water do you drink ever since you got this fever?""As if I'm going to count how much I drink." Tobio shifted, turning his lying body to the side where Tooru was.Tooru rolled his eyes, he did ask nicely, didn't he? "Rude.""I can't drink more than five glasses..." "Hmm... Then starting from now on, nine glasses of water everyday. And additional thick blanket to help you release heat." He mumbled, writing it down on the paper. "What have been you eating before this fever?""Foods.""Be specific, young Tobio.""I can't remember. I'm too busy with all the preparation for the offering."After asking some other necessary questions about peeing and pooping, Tooru proceeded on the physical examination. "Don't move." Upon removing the blanket and lifting Tobio's sleeves, he lightly pressed his hand on Tobio's stomach. The patient stiffened but didn't reject his touch. Tooru grabbed the stethoscope and started to check the chest of his patient."Get it done already. You're taking too long, other doctors are not this slow." Tobio grumbled, he knew Oikawa wasn't literally slow but it felt like years in another sense. That warmth from all the touched part won't go away and the sensation was nice but it's making him embarrassed."Heartbeat is a little bit faster but it's nothing out of ordinary. I think you're fine, you're just being stubborn hydrating yourself properly and being irresponsible for not eating the right amount of meals." Tooru returned the clothes and blanket to cover Tobio with a fair amount of force. He was getting more and more irritated at the way Tobio responded back. And as a result, his doctor image was altered by his true nature."You think I'm fine? How can I trust that? You're not sure.""Shut up. You don't have any other choice but to trust me. And you're like my other patients, those emotional little kids having fever like it's the end of the world." Tooru gasped, wanting to apologize but Tobio immediately shouted at him."Don't compare me to kids!""You're acting like one!" Tooru slapped the packed cooling mint grass on Tobio's forehead. Tobio grabbed the pillow near his head and threw it off on the doctor's face. They scowled at each other and remained quiet afterwards. The uncomfortable silence was broken by the gradual knocks on the door.Ushijima came in and collected the notes. "I mostly written down what's needed to be done. He should eat plain bread and rice soup, don't add any seasoning and no further medication is needed." Tooru said and his face softened. He was able to brought back his smile."And young Tobio, please, eat properly even if the meals doesn't have any taste. Okay?"Tobio just glared harder at him. "I said drop that young, Doctor Oikawa.""I'll think about dropping it when you recover. Get well soon, young Tobio." Tooru patted the young heir once more before he and Ushijima bid farewell then went out of the room.Tooru was required to join the Kageyamas' dinner. It was a classy banquet that awaited for him to dig in. The Kageyamas prayed and Tooru respected their ritual. After the prayers, they started eating."Thank you for the plenty plate." Tooru did enjoy the wealth of the meal but he felt bad about the poor commoners that couldn't have a share in the abundant supply of food."It's a pleasure to have you here, Doctor. How was our young Lord Mayor?" Kageyama's father asked after wiping elegantly his mouth."Our young Lord Mayor should be fine in two or three days. There's nothing to worry about and I can come back tomorrow for a follow up check-up.""Oh, Doctor Oikawa. I say, you stay the night.""That wouldn't be necessary, your Honor.""We won't let you go out until our young Mayor is cured." Kageyama's mother said passively but the threat was there.Tooru disregard his nervousness and accepted the command as if he was pleased to stay. What will happen to Oikawa Tooru if Tobio's sickness won't be gone by his two-three days assumption? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Dim orange light illuminated from the lamp shade displayed the image of Ushijima, with him was the metal table."A pleasant evening Young Lord." Ushijima settled the table on the side of the bed then proceeded to assist Tobio in getting up and sitting in place. His arm spreaded on the back of Tobio and the other arm supported the waist. Ushijima was familiar of the softness of his master's body, he knew where to hold him right and he handled him with respect. But touching Tobio, even if it was only due to a commitment responsibility, never failed to please him; it was wrong, but lust was felt.Returning his attention to the table, he moved the lid on the side of the pot and fixed the utensils. "Your dinner is hereby serve, M'Lord. The recommended plain bread and rice soup without any seasonings.""Plain bread and rice soup... without any seasonings." Tobio groaned in displeasure. Even the smell offered nothing to gain him some appetite."Indeed, m'Lord.""Ugh, you can leave now Wakatoshi. I'll eat it later."The majordomo complied and after stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him, his lips curved into a dirty smile. Ushijima sniffed on his gloves and he planted a soft kiss on it. 'I felt his skin once again.' The same gloves were used later on, Ushijima fapping and violating his young master in his sinful imagination. Tobio glared at the rice soup he hadn't touch in hours. He should sleep, it was already late but his mind kept intriguing him about Doctor Oikawa Tooru. And it was weird, usually he would easily forget any commoners' name. Though remembering what happened between him and that doctor, the short time they've been acquaintance to each other, was so vivid.'Young Tobio.' The husky, somewhat gentle voice of Tooru was still echoing in his ears.It sounded like a music. And fonding over such matter, it was definitely weird. But no one had called him by his name that much, not even by his parents, he reasoned. He was known to be a child of a Kageyama, a Young Lord Mayor, and a human God next to their Lord Envii. He just felt different because Tooru called him by his first name and he wasn't used being called like that.That explained it, there was nothing weird at all."Why can't he drop the young?" Tobio growled, chanting a gratitude meal prayer before grabbing the spoon with fury. He felt like puking in his first swallow, but apparently he was determined to finish his food. And he did without even noticing the bowl was already emptied. "He will think about dropping it when I'm fully recovered." Tobio whispered to no one and ate the plain bread without any problem.He headed back lying on his bed, resting was not a difficult task and morning came by as peaceful as it can be. Tobio waking up, feeling somebody on his side and a wide palm gently brushing on his forehead. He didn't felt uncomfortable, the hand felt so warm and nice against his temple.Peeking at who it was, his eyes fully opening to saw Tooru staring, smiling down at him."A pleasant morning, Young Tobio." Tooru greeted, faking his cheerfulness. He was cursing inwardly, didn't get much sleep since the guest room where he stayed the night at was disturbing. The lights flickered and under the bed was some scratching noise. There was also the cold air sweeping on his neck and it was creepy and he was honestly scared.Tobio could only groan in response, looking away from that smile. "Your temperature seemed to cool down. You're still pale, though." Tooru removed his touch and wrote down his observations. "Mister Ushijima told me that you ate everything. Did you really eat or did you just actually threw the meal outside the window or somewhere?""I ate everything." Tobio furrowed his brows at the speculation."Did you vomit?""No.""Hmm... Aren't you a good boy? Good, good boy~" Tooru patted Tobio's head, handling him like a kid for self amusement. And it was only fair, afterall, these Kageyamas were prisoning him here. This was the least he could do, pissing off his patient. He knew he shouldn't be doing this but Tobio wasn't even complaining. Tobio remained quiet, he was trying to understand what's going on with him. He wasn't calm, not with that praise that was purposely said to mock him. Though he wasn't angry either by the baby pat on his head, why was he fine with the way he's being treated? Tobio could only frown at that question. Confusion made him taunt his eyes on Tooru."Why are you looking at me like that? You look like a demon. Scary." Tooru set up a horrified face. "I'm not a demon!"Getting an annoyed response from a Kageyama was a success. 'Idiot, I didn't say you are one.' This was a thought that Tooru would usually say outloud, but stressing a patient early in the morning was not right."I'm so sorry about that if I offended you." Tooru said, his face changed to an apologetic expression. He wasn't really sorry though. "Please forgive me, my Lord. I did disrespect you with such words.""Ugh, it's fine. I didn't mean to look at you that way." Tobio tried to fix his scowl but failed to do so. Tooru moved from the bed to the chair at the side. "How are you feeling then?" Tooru asked tenderly, ignoring the remained glare from Tobio."Not good. But not that worst anymore, I guess.""Then that's better."There was knocking on the door and then arriving inside was Ushijima and another table set of prescribed meal. "Excuse my intrusion, a good morning to you M'Lord and to you, Doctor Oikawa. Breakfast is serve, the same plain rice soup and bread." Repetitive events of Tobio eating properly, drinking the right amount of water, and being taken care of by Doctor Oikawa happened within the day and next one after. Tobio was not bedridden anymore, still having some cold but he could finally walk by his own feet and could finally sent Tooru off their mansion. His parents were more than thankful and promised a great amount of financial support for the hospital. Tooru accepted, it was rude to deny such blessings afterall. And mostly, soon enough, this money will help a lot for the completion of the rebellion.Before letting go of the doctor though, Tobio asked for a private prayer session with him."Tobio, two hours?" Tooru was bewildered at the request he couldn't say no to.'He finally dropped the young!' It was an accomplishment, Tobio thought, his face litting up in delight. "Ah, y-yes." Tobio cleared his throat. "I have to complete a full round of devotion. The scripture of Envii for healing sickness is quite long, Doctor Oikawa.""Drop that, just call me Tooru." Tooru wasn't sure what he's getting out of this, but for sure he could use this absurd endearment later on. Goddamn right, he could use Tobio."T-tooru." Tobio felt the rising heat on his cheeks, he finally made a friend. For some reason, the heat was spreading all throughout his body. He didn't pondered about it too much.Tobio led their way to a sacred praying room. Elegant long chair and an altar in the middle was inside. They sat side by side, close enough so that Tobio wouldn't had to shout while reading the scripture.The boring, necessary prayer went on and on, it felt like ages but it was properly done. "That would be the end of it, God bless you, Tooru.""Thank you for the blessing, Tobio." Tooru smiled genuinely, just because he's finally going home!"You... Tooru..." Tobio couldn't look away. "Hmm?""Forgive me, I think... I think you're beautiful." Tobio swallowed a ball of air, getting nervous for his confession."Pfft, That is not something you should be apologizing for.""No, I'm serious. I... I ..." Tobio could handle if his heart was throbbing fast, but it wasn't only that, there's also his dick down there, pounding in it's confinement. His hands went covering that part by instinct and he just made it obvious, didn't he?"Oh..." Tooru was knowledgeable and he could tell just by one glance that Tobio was under a flesh command. But it was unexpected, being turned on after a fucking holy prayer- holy shit; Tobio was fucking kidding him. "You do realize I'm a guy?""Y-yes..." Tobio shutted his eyes, the Lord Envii will punished him for this!"Of course you do... Right." Tooru mumbled, passively thinking about it. He had two choices, first was to play it cool and just get away as immediately as possible. Second was to make this more disgusting, for a future threat or something. "I could help you with that. Since, we're both guys here anyways. It shouldn't be that much of a problem.""It's a sin! Men are made for women!" Tobio could never forgive himself for feeling this way."Okay. Then, should I just go?" Tooru cringed, how could he even consider the second option? That was gross. "I don't know!" The torture in between his thighs was growing, Tobio couldn't possibly hold it longer anymore. His embarrassment for the awkward timing of his itching desire was adding too much pressure. His legs were shifting and his hands started pressing down.Tooru looked away. It was stressful, if he left Tobio like this he would feel guilty. As a doctor, you just couldn't leave anyone in a state of panic and confusion. Who even needed a reason in a situation like this? Tobio could only widened his eyes when Tooru pushed him down, making him lay on the chair. "I'll take care of it." And Tooru did, he was responsible in a way too. He sat under Tobio's thigh, spreaded his legs and Tobio didn't put any effort to stop his dominance. "Your hands Tobio..."Tobio whined as he removed his hands, uncovering the bulge on his pants. "Make it fast, Tooru." He breathed heavily, feeling intense."Shut up, I'll make it painfully slow." Tooru said, irritated at how Tobio was talking to him like a servant. He undid Tobio's pants and yanked down the brief. Popping out was an excited cock, seeing this part from another man, a Kageyama one, hard for him, was putting him on the edge of sanity. He poked it for teasing and He stroked the skin from the tip to the bottom, getting accustomed on the measure of the dick. Tooru's hands were shaking though, jerking off another guy didn't occurred to him even once in his life. "T-tooru!" Tobio moaned and he refused to make a noise again but, 'Mmnh!!!' he was feeling good.Tooru was stressed. He's sure his face was a blushing mess but not because he was feeling hot, he was feeling dirty, he was being scandalized. Tooru kept on going despite the troubles forming in his righteousness. His hands squeezing tighter, pumping Tobio's dick rough, the way he used to do with his own. "That feels nice, yeah?" Tooru asked, his smirked present in his voice."N-no!" Tobio was twitching fervently at the touch, his hips rocking at the pace and his pre-cum leaking out."Forgive me too, Tobio. I ... I think you're sexy, like... like a woman." Tooru was enjoying the sensual reaction of Tobio and he wasn't a stone, he could feel the warmth sensation burning in his body. He was only a human, afterall. Humans were a natural sinner, natural slaves of lust. He had the urge of making more physical contact and he couldn't stop when he started kissing Tobio."N-no! Nghh- Sch- stop! We're going to hell!" Tobio was screaming in denial and at the same time, in pleasure. Even so, it didn't took any longer than ten seconds until he gave in the desperate kissing.Releasing took place and Tobio felt the wetness, the shame. His breathing was heavy, but he's not the only one. Tooru got up from their position. He sat on the chair and his hand started the job under his own pants, he needed to masturbate as well. Tobio was in horror but he managed to put back his brief and pants on it's place. The spurting sounds from Tooru's beating in his cock was disturbing him. "D-don't look at me, stupid- ahh..." "I'm not!" Tobio immediately turned his head away, he was definitely not staring on purpose. But it felt like he was losing, Tooru saw his desperate face, actually, Tooru saw everything! Tobio sat closer, his arms sliding on the other. He peeked below and, "Big.", was his thought spoken outloud. His face turned red due to embarrassment."Ugh... Remove your pants and s-sit on me." Tooru hated the fact that Tobio decided to get near him, to watch him, to humiliate him like this. And since they've gone way too far already, he had to make the worst out of it."W-we will burn in hell, Tooru." Tobio obliged, God didn't even know why. He took off his pants and sat on Tooru, his back facing the other.Tooru did love the weight and softness of Tobio's ass. He started grinding his dick against the brief, then pushing it in and out from between the butt cheeks to the groin of Tobio. "Tobio, pressed yourself down on me.""Ugh... This is wrong..." Tobio arched his back, jiggling his butt downward with pressure. He didn't know what he was doing, but his body knew how to move on it's own. He could see the tip of Tooru's cock popping in and out in between his thighs, hitting his crotch."Heh..such a good boy." Tooru was amused that Tobio was still complaining. Tooru hugged Tobio tightly and jacked off fast, faster, his dick squirting his precum and his thigh slapping Tobio's butt. The simulation was intense and it was driving him crazy."Tooru!" Tobio cried out, he was completely devastated at the hardcore fucking in between his thighs.Tooru kept going until he was done, thick liquid spurting on Tobio's legs and on the floor. Both of them stayed silent, panting hard and looking away from each other. The quietness remained, occupying themselves with dressing properly and cleaning their dirty mess.Tobio sent Tooru off their house. They acted like nothing happened but Tobio felt the tension was still there. That night, Tobio wasn't sick anymore. He was completely cured. He kneeled down beside his bed and prayed; "God I beg for your forgiveness, I will ejaculate tonight because of the same guy I had sinned with. Forgive me." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inside the hospital office, several nurses and doctors went ahead of those who were doing extra labor. Few of which was Tooru, loaded with papers of new appointments he hadn't given attention lately because of the increased number of his patients within the week that had passed. One by one, the remaining workers left until Tooru was the only occupant of the office. He stood up from his chair, did some stretching and then sat down again. 'Got to finish this. There's still tomorrow but it will just extend my schedule. And well, I can finish this now.' It wasn't out of the norm, his spirit was young and active. Enthusiasm for his job was his nature and diligence was next to his name. He believed that being a professional doctor was enough reason to live, it was his dedicated passion, a worthy of his lifetime.Tooru cleared his desk after the completion of his task. All appointments were checked and scheduled and he should be satisfied like how he used to, but he couldn't attain the feeling."Next week, this table will be full of papers again then after that week there's another batch... Work really never ends." He murmured absent-mindedly. When the words sank in him, it came down to a realization. The cycle of his job, it was getting boring. Tooru never had this feeling before. Sure, he did get tired here and then but he still felt happy and he was always looking forward to serve his patients. Tooru let out a depressed sigh, puzzling his thoughts. The rebellion plan was not the problem. The added pressure and responsibilty was still under control and it had nothing to do with him not being contented with his job.Then what was happening to him? He studied medicine so hard, he loved owning the title of a doctor. What could be the problem? It was a question he carried while walking home.His chosen home, a bungalow near the woods, was shaping in his field of vision. He almost felt at ease until he noticed a suspicious man peeking through his gates. He couldn't see anything more than the black hooded cloak the unknown guy was wearing. By instinct, his body turned away, hid behind a tree and searched his bag for something to protect him.Burglars were not that operative in their province, but damn sneaky bastards could appear at the least expected times.Tooru had a pen, the only useful tool for attacking. But he should be fine, he knew where to hit the most fatal points of human pulses. With a tight gripped of the pen in his hand and a cursed under his breath, he marched toward the pathway to his home. He was getting closer and the sound of his footsteps startled the guy. "Don't even try me, you should run now and never come back! I can kill you!" Tooru warned. The guy was obviously not ready to see him with all the trembling and if he could shooed him away then the better for the both of them."T-tooru?"Tooru tried to refuse to recognize the well-known voice. 'Oh God, why?'"Tooru?"There was no way he could deny it anymore. "Tobio." Finally acknowledging the presence of a Kageyama he was trying to forget. He abandoned the thought of using him, already decided not to get involved with him anymore. They could set the rebellion perfectly without dealing with Tobio.Twenty days had gone by, visions of their sin inside a prayer room kept visiting his memory and he forced blurring it in his mind. Yet, Tobio had to show up, reminding every single detail of what happened between them.Tooru rushed his way in, opening the metal gates and the front door. "Come in fast, with your outfit you don't want anyone to see you, right?"Tobio nodded and made his way in.'And the least I wanted was anyone to see you with me, in front of my house.' Tooru's eyes searched the environment, no evidence of any person around. He closed the gates and after glancing one more time outside and not finding anyone, he was relieved, leading him to finally locked the door behind and calmly getting his cool back."So, what are you doing here?" Tooru asked nonchalantly facing Tobio who already removed his hoodie and revealed his full face, standing beside the couch. He walked furtherly inside not breaking his gaze, observing every breath that Tobio was taking as Tooru dropped his belongings above the lamp table in his living room."I... Ugh, I wanted to see you..." Tobio mumbled, looking at the ground, his hand scratching the back of his head."What for?""Just that."'Just that? What is this guy thinking?' Tooru was trying to understand the situation at hand. He couldn't believe a plain and stupid reason of just wanting to meet up this late at night."Have you not wanted to see me?" Tobio slowly raised his head to look up straightly at Tooru, his face was twisting in a confused state and his cheeks were coloring in a tint of red."Why would I want to-" Tooru coughed, stopping himself to show irritation. "Of course I wanted to. Who doesn't want a visit from a Kageyama?" It was evident that he was still affecting Tobio that way. But Tooru wanted to make it clear this time, he wanted to end whatever personal connection they had."A Kageyama?""You're a Kageyama, your highness. Please sit down, I'll prepare something for you." He offered, gesturing his arms to point the couch for Tobio. "No need. I'm not going to stay any longer. I run away from home and they might be looking for me by now. But what's with all the sudden formalities, Tooru?" Tobio tilted his head sidewardly, not wanting what he was hearing."I realized you're not my patient anymore and I'm just a servant to this community. You deserve the holy treatment, my Lord." "..."Tooru smiled at the bold glare Tobio was giving him. "But may I ask how did you manage to bring yourself here all alone?"Tobio furrowed his brows at the question. "I have my horse tied up somewhere in the forest. But more importantly, I don't want any formalities between the two of us." He pouted eagerly, really wanted to insist their familiarity to each other. Tooru snorted at the response. "What?""I'm sorry, m'Lord. Do you still have sexual feelings for me?" Tooru could point out that Tobio was not about friendship."A- that's- Yes. I'm not seeing myself doing that to anyone else but you." Tobio bluntly confessed, his face was warming but he was trying to get his feelings accross, refusing the embarrassment to took over him."Excuse my rudeness, but you have to forget about me. I really wanted to marry a woman and I'm in a relationship with a nurse in our hospital. I have made the wrong decisions back then and got swayed by the heat of the moment. Forgive me, m'Lord." Tooru was confident in his lies. He knew it was believable enough for an idiot like Tobio."I... I see." Tobio gulped a ball of air, awkwardly stiffening as he was processing the rejection. "Then I'm going, D-doctor.""Ah! m'Lord, it would be an honor to escort you back." Tooru said, present in his voice was a bit of agitation. "Can you call me by my name, one last time?"Tooru felt an ache on his heart, one last time, it would probably the last time he would see Tobio. '33 days prior to the offering day.' The rebellion was planned to take place 8 days before the offering day to avoid the sacrificial week of the chosen three in which was already listed in the center of their town. It looked like three random names from poor families who wouldn't bother to even try to protest or question Tobio's pick.In the truth that wouldn't be reveal, it was Ushijima that chose to make sure the three candidates were in no disease or sickness. "Tobio." Tooru didn't want any troubles but the thought of burning the Kageyamas' grounds meant burning all the Kageyamas within. Including the person in front of him who was smiling widely, blue orbs widening with glee."Stop being so happy over such thing." Tooru grabbed Tobio's shoulder and pulled him closer. His arms extending to hug him. "I'm sorry, Tobio. I lied, I don't have any interest in marriage yet and I'm not in a relationship with anyone either. I'm quite a dedicated and busy doctor.""Then why would you lie-"Tooru bowed his head downward, burying his face on Tobio's shoulder. "I thought it would be better if we don't deal with each other, you're the respectable Mayor and it would be a mess since we're both guys and all. But I also think that no one will ever know about us so... we should be fine." He explained, hugging Tobio tighter."Okay... But c-can't breathe."Tooru released their embrace and a teary-eyed blushing Tobio was exposed to his perception. He kissed him passionately and felt the willingness of Tobio to melt in their contact. It was the type of moment he wished that would never end, but the need to pull off for air came. "Men kissing, this is unforgivable Tobio. I'd still do it with you again, though.""God Envii will forgive us. I'll pray and give some gold offerings for our souls."Tooru blinked hard once, he wasn't expecting a serious response. "Isn't that a waste of gold? You can trade them for food supply and medicine for the people.""Nothing is wasted if given to God Envii. Even ourselves, we should surrender to Him." The two argued about their contradicting beliefs to the point they were just rewording their reasons. Tooru got pissed, Tobio had hit his buttons on the spot. His angry self concluded that Kageyamas were nothing but Kageyamas, they only depend everything on Envii. "Envii is just a rock- Ugh, I'm sorry. We shouldn't be talking about this. It's really getting late, you should go back."Tobio dismissed the previous topic by not furthering it anymore, in respect to Tooru's tone. The way on his horse in the forest at the back of Tooru's bungalow was accompanied by an uncomfortable silence."Take care on your way, Tobio." Tooru said in the usual comical manner, trying to break the tension.Tobio was holding back ever since and with the comfort in Tooru's voice, he embraced him, turning his heels upward and leaving short innocent kisses on Tooru's lips. "Sorry, Tooru. I grew up believing that way."Tooru couldn't help but giggle, the moment was just too sweet. The fuming in his blood regarding Envii evaporated in thin air. He wrapped his arms and hugged Tobio back, locking both of their foreheads in place. "Understandable. I'm sorry too, Tobio." He pulled him closer and angled his head, making their lips meet. Their kissing got rougher and lasted as long as possible until they had to pulled out to catch their breaths."I will miss you." Tooru spoke out of his mind, his face dropped after.Tobio launched his head forward, snuggling it on Tooru's chest. "I'll visit you more often after the offering day!" He shouted not being able to control his feelings.Who could ever thought that wishing to see someone again would be such a scary hope? Tooru acted normal until Tobio rode away, his facade fading as he watched him disappear in the darkness of the night.Tooru went back home and it was suddenly so empty, with that he understood why there was boredom with his work and with personal life in general. It was Tobio that fucked up his conventional and perfect life. He was left with a hole in his heart, too impossible to be filled. And Tooru had no choice but to accept a loneliness he never wanted.
10158314	Paracelsus and Other	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Potter, Tom Riddle, Voldemort", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by RestraintAbandoned [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "3/3", "completed": "2012-06-14", "published": "2012-06-09T00:00:00", "words": "7,986", "Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Slash sex, Incest, Sexual Content, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Voldemort", "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Paracelsus, and Other Gauntly Matters I changed, and will probably continue to change, many things in the Tom Riddle era. Tom doesn't visit Morfin in the summer of 1943; he does in 1952, at age 25. He's a Professor at Hogwarts, and will most likely use a different method to rise to power. I'm going to try and make this a longer, plot important story. Also this will be cousin incest. ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::* Prologue A green eyed boy with jet black hair sat in his small cot, in a small and dark space. The boy idly flicked a lingering spider from his arm. The air was dust ridden and muggy. He didn’t live in the most charming of places. The boy let his eyes slowly wander to the dim light at the edge of the loft. Down below he could hear Morfin's clumsy shuffling. The young wizard untangled thin limbs and stood, casually brushing a few cobwebs from his tattered robes. Hadrian Gaunt made his way across groaning floorboards to the loft's ladder. He stopped, surprised, at the sound of knocking at the door. 'A visitor? How odd.' To say Morfin and Hadrian rarely had visitors would an understatement. His father and he were quite isolated in their little shack. They never got out. Well Hadrian supposed he did, but no one would know to look for him here. The last time they had a visitor was many years ago. An Auror had questioned Morfin on a muggle attack, due to how close the attack had been to Little Hangleton, and his father's past record. His father had not been arrested. Did that mean he was innocent? Probably not… Had Morfin attacked another muggle? The boy couldn’t think of any other reason another soul would be at their front door. The muggles wouldn't dare. All the town of Little Hangleton knew never to venture too close to the little shack at the edge of the woods. The place where there was a monstrous old man and his beautiful child dwelled, whom spoke in tongues and practiced devilry. "Who'd that be? Intrudin' on us." Morfin hissed grumpily from below. Cursing, Morfin made his way to the door, banging into the old worn furniture as he went. Hadrian ducked down into the shadows, and peeked over the ledge to get a good look at the door. As the door opened dark magic flooded the small shack. Hadrian's interest rose; he leaned forward a bit more. The figure wore a hooded cloak; leaving nothing visible. "What do you want?" Morfin asked rather rudely. Unease crept through the boy. Could Morfin not feel the amount of dark power this stranger held? At the very least Morfin could be polite; at least until he knew the stranger's intentions. "You are Marvolo Gaunt?" The stranger asked smoothly, appearing unconcerned at Morfin's rudeness. "No. That’s my father. What you be wanting with 'im?" Morfin asked gruffly, sounding a tad confused. Why would someone be looking for Grandfather? The boy had heard numerous stories of Marvolo Gaunt from Morfin. Hadrian would have to say Grandfather was most likely just as isolated, unpleasant, and unstable as his Father was. Didn’t seem the type to have contacts or friends. Not to mention, Marvolo passed away a number of years ago. The figure stole through the doorway, uninvited. Hadrian watched as two pale, long fingered hands rose to the hood and unveiled the stranger's face. Bright green eyes took in the handsome face with fascination. Tidy black hair, a strong jaw, slightly hollowed cheeks, aristocratic nose, and….red eyes? Red eyes with cat-like pupils. Oh, this man was absolutely tainted by the Dark Arts. The young boy was sure this wizard was actively practicing the blackest of the Dark Arts; much more immersed within them then Morfin could ever hope to be. Crimson eyes roamed around their run down little shack. Disgust and disappointment was plainly seen upon those handsome features. As the man looked back to Morfin, his lips curled into a sneer. It made Hadrian's hackles rise. Sure Morfin was completely hideous. His poor bow-eyed, hunched-back, rotted-toothed, filthy father. But it wasn’t Morfin's fault. His father was the victim of repeated inbreeding. Raised in poverty by the similar Marvolo, Morfin didn’t know any other way to live. Hadrian was thankful he got fresh blood and good looks from his Mother. Morfin's reaction to seeing the stranger's face was one of anger. One dirt caked hand raised his wand. "Muggle Filth," He screamed. Could Morfin not feel the man's magic? Not see those very red eyes? Apparently not, for Morfin continued to rant, "Come to this house-" "I am no Muggle," the stranger interrupted icily. The angry red gaze did not waver from Morfin. His father's face calmed, small eyes examined the man curiously. "I thought you was that Muggle, you look mighty like that Muggle." Come to think of it, Hadrian did think this man looked familiar. The man's eyebrows arched slightly, as he asked," What Muggle?" "That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle what lives in the big house over that way, you look right like him. Riddle. But he's older now, in 'e? He's older'n you, now I think on it…he come back, see." The dark wizard across from Morfin had a strange look in his eyes. The dark brows were furrowed; even the dark magic was angry. Their little shack was starting to feel cold to Hadrian. "Riddle came back?" the man practically hissed out. The green eyed boy wondered why that got a reaction out of the dark man. Why was he here in the first place, looking for Marvolo? "Ar, he left her, and serves her right, marrying filth," Morfin furiously continued slipping into parseltongue. "Robbed us, mind, before she ran off! Where's the locket, eh, where's Slytherin's Locket? Dishonored us, she did, that little slut!" Getting that off his chest, his father calmed down. The boy noticed the red eyed man didn’t have any reaction to parseltongue. Hadrian had a good idea of who this man could be. The man looked almost exactly like a younger, Muggle Tom Riddle. And he was a wizard. His Aunt Merope had ran off and married Tom Riddle. Oh, Could it be? "And who're you, coming here and asking question's about all that? It's over, innit…It's over…" His poor, stupid father. So this dark stranger was his cousin. Hadrian looked over his cousin with renewed interest. The man was staring at the Peverell ring on his father's finger; a greedy and hungry look on that pale face. Anger took hold of Hadrian. That ring was his! The locket was meant for Merope's offspring. What else would his cousin try to steal from Hadrian? Hadrian was going to be the Heir of Gaunt, and eventually Slytherin; this new Slytherin bastard would not take that from him. And he would let the bastard know it. Tearing his gaze away from the ring, the man replied to Morfin, "Nobody important. I am sorry to have taken your time." With that the man strode uncaringly past a confused Morfin. Hadrian acted before he could reach the door. The boy slid down the ladder, and hissed loudly," So you're Aunt Merope's bastard?" The man froze before slowly turning towards Hadrian. Crimson eyes locked with his green eyes. The boy felt breathless. Being at the other end of the man's searching, cutting gaze was overwhelming. Hadrian scowled at his reaction. The boy gathered as much confidence and grace he could, and walked to his father's side. "Sister's bastard? This is my sister's bastard? That Muggle's son?" Morfin asked unbelievingly. "Who are you?" The man hissed back, eyes never wavering from his own. "Tell me your name, and I will tell you mine," as Hadrian spoke his hand shot out to grip his father's hand, possessively covering the ring. The boy sent a challenging glare to the tall man. His father gave him a surprised and uncomprehending look. Crimson eyes lit with amusement as they slid to his hand. A wide smirk curled on that perfect face, and dark magic pushed and prodded at his own. "Tom Marvolo Riddle. And your own?" Riddle's magic was playing odd games with his senses, the boy needed a clear mind. Hadrian irritably gathered his own magic and forcibly pushed the offending magic away. Riddle expression took on one of surprised delight. Red eyes were oddly bright as they looked Hadrian up and down. "Hadrian Paracelsus Gaunt." Riddle's eyes snapped back to his own. Hadrian barely noticed Morfin ranting on Merope dirtying and shaming the family, too trapped within in challenging red. Riddle didn't seem willing to suffer through Morfin, and pulled his wand out, aiming it at Morfin; his sight still trained on Hadrian. No, no one would raise their wand to his father. Lightening quick Hadrian had his wand pointed steadily Riddle. "Don’t fret, Hadrian, I merely wish to speak to you without distraction." Hadrian chanced a quick glace at his father. He looked spitting mad; gnarled, crooked hands brandished a wand. Murder was on Morfin's mind. The boy decided it would be best to deal with this situation without attempted murder on his father's part. With the immense amount of magic Riddle possessed, Morfin didn’t likely stand a chance. Eyes trained on his cousin, the boy silently stunned his father, and gently lowered him to the grime covered floor. "He is mine. As well as the ring, cousin. Slytherin's locket belongs to you; it was Merope's to pass on to you. The Peverell ring is my father's to pass to me; it is mine. And I am to be the Gaunt heir," Hadrian informed Riddle coolly. A single well shaped brow quirked. "You think I am a threat to your title? You needn't worry. Why would I wish for the Gaunt title?" Riddle eyed Morfin as he spoke that. The dark wizard wore a cruel, condescending smile as the red eyes roamed around their dank filthy shack. "What possible reason could I have to ever wish to inherit from the House of Gaunt." the man hissed. The green eyed boy bristled. Hadrian would not acknowledge the shame clawing up inside him. He had to defend his name. "The Gaunt name is a respectable old pureblood name. I dare say it's better then your filthy father's muggle name." Hadrian spat to the man. Riddle's eyes narrowed and magic spiked with fury. He began to advance on Hadrian. Hadrian supposed he could have left out the filthy father muggle name part. He really did need to learn to control his temper. Riddle stopped mid step, and seemed to compose himself. "You look old enough to be enrolled in school…Which school do you attend?" Riddle asked face unreadable, and voice calm. Well that was unexpected. Why would his cousin want to know that? Hadrian didn’t think it could do any harm to tell. "I don’t attend school. Morfin teaches me some magic. For the rest I teach myself." A thoughtful look crossed his cousin's face. "Have you ever wished to attend Hogwarts, Hadrian? You would receive much better education, I'm sure," Riddle informed Hadrian, tone filled with arrogance. The dark wizard was staring up at Hadrian's loft. It upset the boys nerves, knowing his cousin knew where he slept. "No," Hadrian lied. He had wanted to, but Riddle didn’t need to know that. "My education is just fine." "Doubtful. I believe Hogwarts will be good for you," Riddle said. It sounded more like the man was talking to himself then Hadrian. How irritating this man was. Hadrian believed he was rather good at magic. Riddle suddenly turned and walked gracefully to the door. "Keep your ring, child," Riddle spoke, not bothering to look at Hadrian. "Child?" Hadrian spat. Riddle did not look much older then himself. Mid twenties, Hadrian would guess. While Hadrian was only fourteen, he didn’t believe he was a child compared to Riddle. And he certainly did not wish to be called a child by his smug, arsehole cousin. The door creaked open, cold air floated in. Before exiting, the dark wizard turned to the boy, a wide smile on his face. "I would much rather have you." What? Sharp disbelief struck the boy. Hadrian had thought this man was threatening before, but Riddle seemed downright sinister now. That smile appeared twisted with malice. Those intense red eyes observed him with hunger; as a predator looks at its prey. Hadrian tried to calm his nerves, suppress his fear. "I belong to myself as well," Hadrian growled. A husky chuckle escaped Riddle's well shaped lips before the man left through the door; he didn’t spare Hadrian another glance. Hadrian continued to stare at the open door long after his cousin had left. He couldn’t help but think his life was about to change drastically. ::::::::::::::::::::::::::: Eventually I will have time to edit out all the typos and spelling/grammar mistakes. Or get a beta. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: AU. WIP. Eventual TR/HP Slash. So this dark stranger was his cousin. He was the Heir of Gaunt, and that ring was his; Hadrian Gaunt wouldn't let this new Slytherin bastard take those from him. Unfortunately for Hadrian, Professor Riddle would prove to be much more troubling then a threat to his title; especially once Hadrian arrives at his new school. Paracelsus, and Other Gauntly Matters ::::::::::::::::::: Chapter 1 It was the morning after his cousin had paid his humble home a visit, and Hadrian was sick with worry. The boy sat at the edge of his loft, contemplating on just what was to be done. Riddle had said he didn’t want his title. Hadrian didn’t know whether he believed him. Sure, the man seemed positively disgusted with the House of Gaunt. However, if Riddle had a pureblood name he would have much more opportunity then he would with just his muggle name. The Gaunts used to be well known and highly respected…a hundred or two years ago. From what Hadrian had seen, most Pureblood society assumed they were extinct. No one had any idea of the Gaunt's Slytherin connection. Having the title of Slytherin… Tom Riddle would surely want that. It was too bad for Riddle. His cousin most likely had no idea that title could still be claimed; treasures could still be inherited. It was unfortunate that Hadrian wasn’t entirely certain he himself would be able to claim it. It wasn’t exactly a normal last blood relation comes and claims the inheritance through a simple blood test kind of deal. But the boy did take comfort in the fact that as long as he didn’t inform Riddle of it, there was no threat to it. But there was enough threat Hadrian's current position. The boy was not officially claimed as Heir. Riddle would not be able to claim the Heir position without the Gaunt Lord's approval, but he may be able to challenge Morfin for the title of Lord. Morfin, an aged, unmarried, illiterate man with no heir. In addition, that history of violence against muggles, wizards, even Ministry officials. However, the violence against muggles may actually not count against the man. Sadly, just Morin's required presence at a Lordship challenge would work against his father. It was quite possible Riddle could win. That would not do. Having an official heir would protect Morfin's position. But to do that… Morfin had to leave the shack. Go out in public. 'Oh dear.' This may prove difficult. Green eyes lowered and swept over to the man, who was sulking in a chair by the fire. His Father had been in a foul mood all morning. Hef had not been pleased that he was stunned by 'his sister's dirty half-blood.' Yes, Hadrian had lied. Really, anyone who had to live with the man would do the same. "Say, Morfin, isn't it time we got out for a bit?" the boy hissed to his Father. "Got out?" Morfin asked. "Ta where?" "I was thinking Gringotts." "Gringotts? Have me bring my shame out and be seen?" His father's voice was steadily rising in anger. "No!" "Don’t worry. No one will know." The boy tried to reassure. "I've been out plenty of times. Not one person has ever had any idea; goblins certainly wouldn’t." Actually, people often first assumed he was a poor mudblood. Until they heard Gaunt. Fueling Morfin's family pride might help. "And if anyone did, father, they would see that even a half-blood of our line outclasses the purest of their inferior blood." Hadrian convinced, sending Morfin his most charming smile. That seemed to do it. Morfin's wretched face morphed into a lopsided smile as he stood. "Aint that right. No ones got blood like ours. What are you wantin' with Gringotts?" "To be claimed as your heir." Morfin's smile immediately curled into a grimace. It didn’t make him look any prettier. "You think to be Heir? A half-blood become Heir?! Never! Dishonorable, shameful, unfit, filthy boy!" Hadrian jumped, forced to dodge what looked like a rather nasty curse. The young wizard examined where the curse had exploded with unamused exasperation. There was a good size hole in the side of his loft. So his father still thought he would sire a nice pureblood son? As if Hadrian would ever let that happened. If Morfin did manage to find a willing….or unwilling….pureblood witch, the man would find he was quite sterile. Hadrian's doing, of course. Morfin was all Hadrian had, and the boy was unwilling to share him with anyone. It was a strange relationship they shared. There was hate, but an odd sort of caring also existed. Morfin was mostly the source of all of Hadrian's companionship; a form of love was bound to happen. A possessive, clingy sort of love Hadrian supposed. Most of the hate Hadrian had felt for his father had slowly transformed to pity over the years. He understood the man much more then when he was younger. His understanding of Morfin led him to the following conclusion: Morfin would rather have his dirty bastard as heir then his sister's as lord. "Morfin, Riddle said he's going to steal your lordship title." The man's temper exploded. ::::::::::::::::::::: Hadrian tried in vain to hide his self satisfied smirk as he sat across from a mean looking little goblin. Morfin sullenly stood across the room. With the possibility of Riddle stealing his lordship title, the boy had managed to convince his father the best way to deal with it, was to take preventive action by allowing him to be 'temporary' heir. Morfin grudgingly agreed, after a couple fits. There little home now boasted several new and rather drafty windows. The Goblin addressed him. "Finger, please," it demanded, somehow managing to make please sound rude. The young wizard offered a slender finger to the goblin. Hadrian watched impassively as the horrid creature pricked his finger, a good deal deeper and rougher then needed. The goblin tightly held his hand over an old and yellowed parchment. Blood dripped onto the parchment. The boy suspected it was more blood then necessary. Goblins were vicious little things. Green eyes studied the parchment. Hadrian could not notice anything different. Apparently the Goblin did. "Everything seems to be in order. The title of Heir, you say?" the goblin asked, sounding like he would rather be doing anything else. The boy gave a slight nod. "You don’t want to claim the Gaunt Lordship?" Why would the Goblin ask that? He had to know that Lord Gaunt was in this very room, waiting to give Hadrian permission for the Heir title. "No. That's my Father's." Hadrian was not cruel enough to try to take that from his father. Even if he wanted to, the boy was too young to challenge an adult who already held the title. A sharp, terrible grin split the goblin's ugly face. "No? If you're certain…." "I am very certain," Hadrian snapped. That sharp-toothed grin stretched wider; it aggravated Hadrian. What was this goblin was playing at? "Sign here, please." After Hadrian finished, the Goblin stood and said simply, "All finished." "Finished? But don’t you need Morfin?" the boy asked, confused. The Goblin cackled, as if Hadrian had asked something incredibly stupid. Its beady eyes filled with malicious mirth as he observed Hadrian. The boy apprehensively studied the creature. Hadrian had the feeling he was missing something. "No; that is not necessary. Have a good day." the goblin dismissed them. "Are you sure I don’t need Morfin?" "Yes. He isn't needed for your Heir claim. Good day." Hadrian, still befuddled, made his way out, beckoning to Morfin. They quickly exited Gringotts. The Goblin watched them go, chuckling. ::* A cool breeze slid over Hadrian as they left the Gringott entrance. "Damn Goblins. I don’t like em. C'mon let's go home." Hadrian looked back at his father. A small smile turned his lips at his father's petulant mood. It often felt as though Hadrian were the parent and Morfin the child. He found he could not disagree with Morfin on Goblins, though. They were an unpleasant sort. "We do still need to replenish our supplies, Morfin. It shouldn’t take-" the boy was cut off with an oomph as he collided with a solid wall of robe adorned chest. Hadrian stumbled back, narrowly avoiding a fall. The boy snapped his eyes to the man he had bumped into. A tall and longhaired blonde wizard. He wore some of the richest robes Hadrian had ever seen. The boy became uncomfortably aware of his ratty, ripped garments. He cranked his neck to peer up at the face. Aristocratic features with silver eyes. All the evidence pointed to rich pureblood. The blonde wizard looked Hadrian up and down. Unveiled loathing accompanied silver eyes. The man looked startled as his gaze landed on Morfin, but it quickly shifted to repulsion. The wizard held his head higher; as if he knew without a doubt, he was their superior. The green-eyed boy grew irate. His clothes were poor, yes. Nevertheless, this man was no superior of Hadrian's. "Do watch where you're going. I would rather not have my robes mucked up by filthy Mudbloods," the man arrogantly drawled. "Mudbloods?! We are no Mudbloods! Our blood is pure! Better then yur own." Morfin screamed. Silver eyes turned to Morfin. After examining Morfin with clear distaste, the man haughtily replied, "I greatly doubt that. The Malfoy name is old and highly respected. We have the purest blood and always produce magically strong offspring. Not to mention, Malfoys are always pleasing to the eye." The man, Malfoy, seemed to hold a lot of family pride and self worth. Hadrian had heard a bit about the Malfoy's before. This man did not impress him. "Never heard of you," Hadrian informed Malfoy, with a cheeky grin. That seemed to ruffle the man's feathers. The handsome face contorted into a grimace"Of course the likes of you have never heard of the Malfoy name. It's too good for ignorant, rag wearing-""But I've heard of the Weasleys. Why should I waste my precious time on you? You're less known then the Weasleys! Step aside, we would like to leave your common company," Hadrian tried to imitate the Malfoy's earlier arrogant drawl. The boy found immense satisfaction in Malfoy's following reaction. A red hue covered that milky skin, brows furrowed, face pulled back into a snarl. The man angrily sputtered, "The Weasleys are nothing compared to the Malfoys! We are far better wizards then those blood traitors! You know your own sort, boy! My family can be traced back hundreds of -" "Only hundreds?" Hadrian jubilantly cried. "How sad for you. My bloodline can be traced back thousands of years! Hundreds? You're practically a family of old Mud Bloods!" "You tell 'im son!" Morfin encouraged. The boy's eyes slid to his father. A warm feeling pooled in Hadrian's chest at Morfin's rare approval. His father wore a large grin, displaying rotten and yellowed teeth, as he watched Hadrian with excitement. He shared a smile with Morfin, before looking back at Malfoy. A wand was thrust into the boy's face. Malfoy looked livid. "I will not suffer such disrespect by a filthy little nobody dressed in rags!" the man hissed. Why was Hadrian always judged on his clothes first? Hadrian decided to do something no respectable witch or wizard would ever expect. The boy pulled his leg back, and swung his foot full force into Malfoy's groin. The wizard crumpled to the ground, cursing, and clutching his crotch. Blonde hair splayed out on dirt covered stone Hadrian spared Morfin a glace. Grinning, the boy told his father, "Let's head off." As the boy turned he almost fell forward, from Morfin's heavy pats on his back. The elder wizard cackled as he started walking, spitting on Malfoy as he went. Hadrian's grin stretched wider. Following Morfin, Hadrian stepped on Malfoy' golden hair for further insult. He laughed at the man's strangled insults. A nice, warm feeling bubbled in the boy's chest as he watched his father lead the way. A rare true smile on Morfin's hideous face. ::::::::::::: By nightfall, Hadrian stood outside Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. The boy was forced to wait for an invitation through the wards. Through the front door came the face of Pollux Black. Pale skin, dark hair, blue eyes, handsome features. The man aged well and his look was signature Black. All Blacks had pale skin; most had black hair and blue eyes. Once in awhile there was an odd blonde. That sightly face wore a frown as the man spotted Hadrian. Pollux turned away, without even a greeting. The boy felt the powerful wards open up to him. Heading towards the door, Hadrian heard the man call for Alphard. "Alphard, that friend of yours is here." Pollux knew Hadrian's name; he just didn’t use it often. While the man didn't seem to mind Hadrian horribly much, he didn't particularly like him either. Which was too bad really. The boy admired Pollux. The man had dignity, intelligence, and power. He was even somewhat kind. As kind as a rich pureblood fanatic could be. Pollux hadn't even disowned Alphard when the boy had sent his allowance to Pollux's estranged squib brother, Marius Black. Irma Black, Alphard's mother, disagreed, quite strongly, with letting Alphard go unpunished. Pollux didn’t even fight Alphard becoming acquainted with someone as poor as Hadrian. Another thing Irma disagreed with. But that could be because the man thought Hadrian was pure. The boy decided it best this particular family remain ignorant to his dirty blood. As Hadrian walked through the entrance, he spotted Irma Black; moon face disdainful as she glared at the boy. The young wizard held back his own sneer. As much as he hated the woman, it wouldn’t do to fight with his only sort-of-friend's family. That, however, may not even earn him the ire of the Blacks. It was hard to like or respect Irma Black; unpleasant, a bit dim, and less then average magical power. Her husband hated her. Even her own children had a hard time respecting her. Alphard outright loathed his mother. It wasn’t hard to see she wasn’t a Black by blood. She came from the far inferior Crabbe line. Poor Pollux stuck with that. 'A perfect example,' Hadrian thought, 'of arranged marriages gone horribly wrong.' Hadrian spotted Alphard descending the staircase. A pleasant smile graced his features. Alphard took after his father, almost an exact younger version of Pollux. He was a couple of years older then Hadrian, though it didn’t feel like it to Hadrian. He liked Alphard much better then Cygnus, whom was Hadrian's age. "Hadrian, nice to see you again." Alphard warmly greeted Hadrian. "Hello Alphard, same to you." Alphard scowled at his mother, who not making any effort to hide her dislike of Hadrian. "Come on, let's go somewhere more private." Hadrian readily agreed. Entering Alphard's room, Hadrian made his way over to the bed. The boys sat side by side on the plush mattress. "So I met a Malfoy today." Hadrian broke the silence. "Oh? And what did you think?" Alphard asked a small smile playing on the corner of his lips. "Disappointing. Malfoy didn’t live up to your inflated views of his family. That man was a pompous arsehole." Alphard's flowing laughter brushed across the younger wizard's ears. "Oh they are all like that. They're very agreeable if they wish to be. And they are powerful wizards, Hadrian, magically and politically. Don’t go and make enemies out of them." "Too late for that." Alphard's eyes immediately found his. "What do you mean 'too late for that'? What did you do, Hadrian?" Alphard's voice held a rough note as he spoke. "I put the man in his place. By the end of our encounter, he was at my feet; right where he belongs." Hadrian smiled, gazing unfocusedly at the wall; it was a good memory. A hand roughly gripped his own. The boy was pulled closer to the elder. Green eyes met blue eyes; far too close to his own. "Hadrian! You don’t want to mess with the Malfoys! They can, and will, make life very difficult for you." Alphard whispered. "And I can't help you there! Father wouldn’t offer you any protection. He's on good terms with the Malfoys. Friendly, even. He wouldn’t dare ruin that for you!" The younger boy pulled back and angrily retorted, "Well I'm not going to smile and roll over for the arse. If he had better manners I would be more inclined to show him mine." Alphard let out a long-suffering sigh. "Just be careful and try to avoid them I suppose. It's a good thing you're not interested in politics or the ministry. Because those are not options for you anymore, trust me." "No loss there," Hadrian flippantly said. Alphard let out an even heavier sigh. "You should really take it more seriously," Alphard scolded lightly. "Anyways, I didn’t come here to talk about the Malfoy's. Besides begging for the use of your library, I wished to ask about a visitor father and I received." "Visitor? Who?" Alphard curiously asked, eyes on Hadrian. "Tom Riddle. Ever heard of him?" Alphard went pale. The boy's interest rose. Hadrian didn’t expect that reaction. Neither did he expect the following reaction. Reactions. Alphard stared dumbfounded. "T-Tom Riddle? Did I hear you right?" "Yep." "Oh no," the elder boy whispered. "Forget the Malfoys. What did you do Hadrian? Why would Tom Riddle visit you?" Alphard voice rose steadily. "I didn’t do anything! I take it you do know him then?" He's…a friend of my Father's," Alphard's eyes cut into Hadrian's, eyes filled to the brim with worry. "What did he want? It can't be good." Hadrian decided to hold back the fact that Tom Riddle was his cousin. Just until he learnt more about him. His cousin was proving to be as dangerous as Hadrian suspected; Alphard seemed afraid of Riddle. "Something about how he thought Hogwarts would be good for me. Nothing important." Alphard looked visibly relieved; shoulders sagged, jaw unclenched, and blue eyes didn’t look nearly as worried. "Oh good. Just a routine school visit then. That's very relieving." "I don’t know if like him much." Alphard's face was suddenly very close to his own. The boy could see all the different shades of blue those eyes held. A strand of dark hair hung less then an inch away from Hadrian's face. "It doesn’t matter if you don’t like him. You do not do anything to upset Riddle. He's extremely dangerous. Having Riddle as an enemy won't just troubling for you, Hadrian, it will be fatal." Alphard warned him in hushed and grave voice. That was ominous. He may have already made an enemy out of his cousin. Intense curiosity and a feeling of dread clashed within Hadrian. "So tell me more about Riddle. How does he know your father?" "I don’t know much about him. Just that he's a powerful friend of father's, and he's not a nice man." After that, Alphard remained strangely tight-lipped on the subject of Riddle. He wouldn’t tell Hadrian a single thing more. Hadrian was sure he knew more. The rest of the evening, the two boys spent in the library. Hadrian got to look up some much needed cleaning and home maintenance spells. Alphard stared at Hadrian with worry in his blue eyes for much of the night. It made Hadrian uncomfortable. Surely they weren't close enough for Alphard to be that concerned with him? Hadrian didn’t think so anyway. ::::::::::::::::::* Hadrian awoke the next day to scraping at the window. In an instant, Hadrian was down the ladder with his wand drawn. He needn't have worried. A large eagle was scraping at the window, carrying a letter. The boy let the owl in. As soon as he took the letter, Hadrian almost dropped it in surprise. It was sealed with the gaunt family crest. Odd. His father was sleeping in his usual spot by the fire. On the opposite side, his name was written in elegant handwriting. Hadrian didn’t have a good feeling about this letter. Hesitantly opening the letter Hadrian read: Hadrian Paracelsus Gaunt Heir of Gaunt, I require your presence immediately. You and I have a few matters that need discussing. Lord of Gaunt What the-? The Lord of Gaunt was sleeping not fifteen feet away! He couldn’t have sent this letter! The green-eyed boy turned to the owl to send a reply. The owl was gone. There was sharp tugging sensation at his navel. Panic coursed through him and the boy quickly tried to drop the letter. It was already too late. ::::::::::::::::::::::::::* ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: AU. WIP. Eventual TR/HP Slash. So this dark stranger was his cousin. He was the Heir of Gaunt, and that ring was his; Hadrian Gaunt wouldn't let this new Slytherin bastard take those from him. Unfortunately for Hadrian, Professor Riddle would prove to be much more troubling then a threat to his title; especially once Hadrian arrives at his new school. Chapter 2The letter was a portkey, and the boy would definitely be more cautious with future mail. Hadrian dazedly observed the portkey's chosen destination. The room was rather grand; richly decorated and spacious. The young wizard noticed tapestries decorated with the Gaunt family crest hanging on the walls. Someone was poking fun, and he knew who was responsible. Feeling incredibly dense for not figuring it out sooner, the boy's eyes angrily raked the room in search of his dear cousin. "Hello Hadrian," the voice was right behind Hadrian, too close for comfort.Hadrian whipped around. Tom Riddle stood close, little over an arm's length away. It was easy for the boy to see just how self-satisfied Riddle was. The man's posture was one of victory. Amusement danced in the man's red eyes; coupled with a conceited smile. The boy glowered up at the towering figure. How? How did Riddle do it? Morfin hadn't gotten a challenge for his lordship. Even if he had, it would have been extremely difficult for Riddle to win now that Morfin had an heir."How?" Hadrian tightly asked.Riddle's smile grew. "Due to you mindlessly claiming Heir to an nonexistent Lord, it was quite easy." The boy tensed. Confusion and disbelief hammered through his mind. The Gaunt Lordship had been empty? That was impossible! In his surprise, Hadrian was finding it hard to form any coherent reply. He stood gaping at the elder wizard.Riddle looked delighted with the boy's astonishment. "Your fool father never claimed lordship. Nor did his father. The position has sat empty ever since your great grandfather passed. I was pleasantly surprised to find I could not only become Lord Gaunt, but also gain an heir with no struggle." Riddle took a step closer, a challenge. Like the man was trying to assert his dominance over him. The boy, with great difficulty, refused to submit and take a step back from the invasion of his personal space. That handsome face leaned in very close to his own. "You left yourself wide open for the taking, Hadrian," the man whispered, crimson eyes crinkled with pleasure. Damn it all. Unnerved, Hadrian took several steps back after that little show.His damn Father. The damn Goblin. Damned Ridde. To lose this to Riddle for something so simple! Did Morfin just think he automatically gained Lordship without claiming it? He shouldn’t be surprised. And Hadrian had known something odd was going on with the Goblin; he should have investigated. How frustrating it was; Riddle was victorious through nothing but lucky happenstance. "What do you want? I had thought you had said that my title, the Gaunt titles, did not interest you." Hadrian hissed. "I don’t have much interest in the Gaunt titles. Without you as heir, I would not bother with the Lordship. There's no need to worry; you do still have your beloved Heir title." Was Riddle implying what Hadrian thought he was? 'Of course he was,' the boy bitterly thought."You took the Lordship to gain power over me? It won't work. Disown me. I will not let you have any control over me through this." the boy's normally pleasant hiss sounded rough and choppy in his outrage. Hadrian hated the idea of being officially disowned from Gaunt, however it was far better then letting this bastard use it against him."You will find that I have quite a bit of control over you now, whether you like it or not. I will not disown you anytime in the near future," Riddle quietly hissed. "And, if I wished it, I would have complete guardianship. We both know it would be so very simple to prove your current guardian unfit." His cousin's ridiculous speech only earned a scoff from the boy. No way in hell; Hadrian would never allow that to happen. What could his cousin want with him? There was nothing special about Hadrian, and Riddle didn’t seem the type to just want family companionship. Hadrian keenly observed the man. He couldn’t understand."I don’t understand. What do you want with me?""Perhaps I would only like to get to know you better, cousin." Icy dark magic blanketed the boy; causing the small body to erupt in shivers.Hadrian grit his teeth against the sensation and ground out, "If you only wanted to know me then you could come over for the bloody holidays. What do you want?" Rich laughter echoed in the room; Hadrian could have enjoyed its pleasing timbre in different circumstances. It only irk him now."For now, I want you to attend Hogwarts. I have a letter right here for you; which you will accept," the man pulled a letter from his cloak, and a long-fingered hand held it out to Hadrian. The boy only stared at it. The pale hand holding said letter wore a ring. The metallic symbol of Gaunt glinted mockingly at him. Hadrian drug his eyes back up to Riddle's face.The man was highly amused, and he seemed certain Hadrian would take the letter. That Hadrian would give in.It was all too much. Hot anger burned through his blood. The ring, the tapestries, the arrogance. And he still didn’t know what Riddle could gain by forcing him to Hogwarts. The boy wanted to destroy that calm, holier-then-though atmosphere Riddle carried. The boy snatched the letter. With deliberate slowness Hadrian tore the letter up while looking challengingly into red eyes. It was gratifying to see Riddle's eyes narrow in displeasure. 'Not so smug now.'"You are my heir. I could force you; why not make it easy for yourself?" Riddle's voice was a note lower, yet it was also more threatening.The man must think him stupid. Hadrian at least knew that even as Lord, Riddle could only force him to Hogwarts if his current guardian failed to provide proper education. The boy gathered his magic to him and quickly checked for wards. No wards at all. How surprising. "I will not be going to Hogwarts, and I don’t know what game you're playing, but I want no part of it," Hadrian said, and gathered his courage for his next supremely stupid action.The boy quickly hocked a loogie and spat in Tom Riddle's stupid face. It was a nasty one; right under an eye and dripping down the cheek. 'The ultimate fuck you,' Hadrian thought gleefully.Hadrian almost laughed at the dumbfounded expression the man wore. Unfortunately his satisfaction was short-lived, and quickly replaced by fear.Riddle hissed and the dark magic swirled rampantly. The face was contorted by a snarl, and red eyes were murderous as the man's powerful legs carried him towards the boy. "Now would be a good time to leave," Hadrian decided."You disgusting little-"The man stopped, surprised as Hadrian apparated away. Riddle's angry snarl was the last thing the boy heard.Within seconds Hadrian was standing outside his shack. Riddle didn’t see that coming did he? Hadrian wasn’t really even supposed to be able to apparate, and he was never more thankful for Morfin and the ability then now. It probably wouldn’t work a second time. If he was ever trapped by Riddle again, he was sure the man would think to put anti-apparation wards up.Right, never ever be alone with his cousin again….would it be possible to avoid another situation like that? Did Hadrian just sign his own death warrant with that? Hadrian sighed, it was very likely.The boy moved forward, over the rotting porch and through the front door. Morfin was awake. "Where've you been?" Looking at his father, Hadrian couldn't bring himself to tell Morfin that Riddle was now Lord Gaunt. No matter how irritatingly stupid he could be. That was one of the few things that could probably break his father's small heart. "I was just out browsing through a few book shops." "Anything good?" Morfin turned his hunched form to fully face Hadrian. "Not really." Morfin grunted. "Could use a good read." Normally Hadrian would go back out and get a book to please his father. Today the boy didn’t have the time or patience to read for Morfin. There was work to be done if he didn’t want to go to Hogwarts. "I'll have a look again tomorrow, Morfin." Morifin's only reply was an uninterested grunt. Soon the ugly, dark eyes turned to look out the window, dismissing Hadrian.The wizard swept across the room to an old bookcase. He blew dust from a pile of parchment and gathered bottled ink and a kinked quill. The boy approached the dining room and sat on one of two chairs. The chair groaned and creaked under his weight. And just as he was about to begin to write, the stressed chair broke.Hadrian crashed into the ground. "Bloody chair."Morfin howled with laughter, spit flying from the grotesque lips. Hadrian gave his father a dirty look from the floor. "Laugh it up will you?" The wizard slowly rose from the ground. Hadrian's pale hands brushed through messy black hair as he took in their shack. It wouldn’t do for the shack to remain as it was; he had a lot of work ahead of him. Ignoring Morfin's continued laughter, the boy sent out to fix the place up.By late afternoon, Hadrian was finished. Their shack was barely recognizable. Being spotlessly clean really made a difference. Along with the fixed and polished furniture. The exterior was just as improved. At the very least, Riddle could no longer gain guardianship due to poor living arrangements. It had been exhausting work. Hadrian gazed down at his wand. It would not have been half as bad if he wasn’t fighting his wand every time he used it. It wasn’t his wand really; it used to belong to his grandfather. Examining the ugly shaft of hawthorn, Hadrian realized he disliked the wand as much as it disliked him. He longed to be able to afford a better companion; one that matched him. Oh well; one day he would."Morfin, I'll be back later." Picking up his completed letter, the boy exited the shack. A dull, grey sky greeted him, and wind bit at his skin. The boy prepared to apparate. Hadrian was interrupted as a sudden force burled into him, causing the boy to stumble forward.Turning around he saw what crashed into him, a snowy owl rolled past him. Bemused, the wizard continued to observe the clumsy bird. The owl hopped up and gave itself a quick shake. It held a letter in one claw. The bird looked at Hadrian with large yellow eyes. After a moment, it began to hop on one foot for the boy. One talon stretched out towards Hadrian, clutching a letter. Hadrian thought it would have been comical if not for his current unease with mail. The closer the letter came, the more nervous the boy grew. Soon Hadrian began to take a step back with each hop the owl took. Growing frustrated, the bird began to hop quicker towards Hadrian. The increase in speed was too much for the owl's poor balance, and it toppled over."Just leave it there; I'll get it." It appeared the owl understood; for once it got up it dropped the letter. Angry yellow eyes locked on the wizard, and the white-feathered body stood rooted to the ground. Hadrian guessed it was waiting for a complete delivery. A clumsy and dedicated owl.The boy observed the letter for a long moment. He carefully reached out to it with his magic. Hadrian couldn’t feel any kind of curse, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t any. Pulling out his wand, Hadrian cast the few detection spells he knew. Nothing. And still Hadrian wasn’t confident enough with his meager detection skills. Were portkeys even detectable?The boy paid no attention to the impatient hooting of the owl as he tentatively poked the letter with his wand. No noticeable difference. Hadrian poked it a couple more times for good measure. With the wand tip, he flipped the envelope over. The Black emblem sealed the envelope. Alphard? Hadrian slowly took the letter into his hands and opened it. Dear Hadrian, Your invited to my birthday ball; taking place noon tomorrow at Number TwelveGrimmauld Place. Do invite your father, I've been very eager to meet your family. Alphard P.S. Send your reply with King. Also, if you do not have any proper ball attire, I have dress robes I would like you to see you wear. How unexpected. Hadrian had never been invited to a ball. Should he go? The boy found himself dreading the idea. How were you supposed to act at one of those? Would more snobs like Malfoy be there? Invite Morfin to high society birthday ball? What a ludicrous idea! Though, it could prove to be entertaining. He should go, it would be the only appropriate thing to do, giving how much Alphard had helped him in the past. It was his birthday…The boy trudged back inside, owl following, and wrote a reply accepting the invitation. King had decided Hadrian had wasted too much of his time; pecking at the boy when his fingers paused in their writing. The bird lost his balance once again as it held its leg out for Hadrian. With a chuckle at the bird's expense, Hadrian sent off the letter.One more letter to send.
10170440	When Flowers Die	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, Blaise Zabini", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Serpentine de Lioncourt [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "2007-03-02", "published": "2006-12-15T00:00:00", "words": "4,750", "Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Out of Character, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Slash, Romance", "Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Underage Sex, Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Disclaimer: Yes, yes, you all know that J.K. Rowling owns the Potterverse. I claim nothing but the insanely stupid plot.Author Notes: Hello again, dear readers! I know that my stories suck, and since you took your time to read them, I really appreciate that. This plot bunny jumped into my head a long time ago, but I never had the patient to put it down on paper… eh… type it into the computer. ;;I’d love to read a good critique, so please review!Warning: This story is SLASH. If pure, unconditional love between two boys offends you, then leave. Hit the “back” button gently and find another fic to read. Remember, I did warn you. Don’t flame me with your homophobic comments.There won’t be any graphic sex, sorry to disappoint smut-lovers.This fic is EXTREMELY cliché and sappy. Heh. Lots of tears, blood (in later chapters), and corny lines. You’ve been warned.Pairings: Harry/Draco, unrequited Blaise/Draco, Lucius/Severus, and some other unimportant het pairings. When Flowers Die Chapter One A Harry/Draco love story. June was blessed by the sun.In Wiltshire, England, June was the sunniest month of the year. The sun blessed June with its warmth; not a wisp of clouds would be seen in the clear, azure sky, everyone would frolic around happily; oh yes, just a typical day in June.Not today, however. The sky was crying for some unseen, unknown tragedy, pouring down its endless supply of tears upon the Earth. He could smell the beloved smell of wet soil now, fragranced and earthly, an amazingly refreshing smell that no artificial perfumes could imitate.Long strands of silvery blond hair fell down to his shoulders, brushed gently against his alabaster skin; he tucked them behind his ears absently, silver eyes still locked to the falling sheen of rain outside the tall, majestic window. His skin was sickly pale as if he hadn’t seen the sun in years, his face thin and aristocratic. A dreamy sigh escaped his lips as a soft smile graced his features.The comfortable silence of the room was broken by a quiet creak of the door. It was opened for a woman clad in expensive robes the color of the sky. Jewels adorned her flawless figure, her hair, slightly darker than her youthful son, was put up in an extravagant style. Her rosy mouth was smiling, but her blue eyes were as cold as blocks of ice.“Draco?” she tentatively asked. The boy looked up; his face was cleared of all emotions. His silver eyes sparked with hatred for a short-lived moment, then dulled to a slate gray color.“Yes, Narcissa?” he said in a drawling tone. “What do you want?”The woman’s face hardened, “Is that any way to talk to your mother? You will learn to respect me, Draco,” she said threateningly.Draco looked away, “Yes, mother. I apologize for my impertinent words.”“That was much better, wasn’t it?” She paused and clapped her hands together childishly. “Now, Draco, I have everything ready for your birthday!” Narcissa said in her sweet, lovely way. “Are you not excited for the day where you will wear the Dark Mark proudly on your wrist?” Admiringly, she said, “The Dark Lord would give you the ultimate birthday present: power. Isn’t it nice of him, Draco?”He shuddered at the last line. Nice? “I will not join the Dark Lord,” Draco muttered. “I will not kiss his robe, or lick his boots like father did.”Narcissa scowled, “What are you talking about, Draco? It is an honor to serve in the His army. Imagine the glory when we will rule the world by His side. The Malfoys have always been loyal to His cause, and you shall not be an exception.”“I told you, mother, I will not join the Dark Lord!” said Draco determinedly.“You are a disgrace to the Malfoys name.” Narcissa’s eyes flashed angrily. “You can either serve the Dark Lord, or die a painful, painful death.” She smirked and raised her wand, “Well, my son?”“No,” Draco spat.Narcissa sneered. With her wand pointed between Draco’s eyes, she vehemently whispered, “Sepelio Oculus!”Draco screamed. His body convulsed violently, his hands were clawing at his eyes as if he wanted to pluck them out. Pain like he’d never known overcame him. It wasn’t like the usual pain of the Cruciatus curse, which Draco was accustomed to, thanks to his father; it was mostly centered on his face, and particularly his eyes. He screamed until his throat was raw, and finally, when the pain became unbearable, he collapsed, hitting his cranium against the solid marble floor. Blood poured out from the back of his head, formed a small puddle around him.Narcissa, meanwhile, coolly looked at the stilled form of her son. She shook her pretty head and after casting a strange series of hexes upon the barely breathing body, left the room. Her footsteps faded slowly until silence descended once more. SsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsS Severus Snape was bored.This was an uncommon feeling for the man, for his life was constantly laced with fear, anger, depression, and sometime, love. And he, of course, being the manly man that he is, could face all of those dangerous emotions, but boredom? No, no way. He could not handle boredom.You see, Severus was a spy for the Order of the Phoenix.Shocking, isn’t it?Severus sighed. He had been summoned to Malfoys Manor, “By order of the Dark Lord,” to quote Narcissa. He doubted that, as the Dark Lord rarely went to Malfoys Manor, but he would never pass up a chance to see Draco, his beloved godson.He had waited in the Malfoys’ guestroom for over an hour now. With uninterested eyes, he glanced around the room. Everything was the same as it was the last time he’d been here. He and Lucius were… the best of friends, in a manner of speaking, until Lucius disappeared, that is.Lucius was gone without a trace after he broke out of Azkaban. Not even the Dark Lord knew where he was, and that wasn’t an easy feat. Now, in the Death Eaters’ Inner Circle, Lucius had officially been declared a traitor, but the Outer Circle ignorantly thought that he was still their second-in-command.It had been a long time since he and Lucius have had a decent conversation with each other. Everything changed between them after they graduated from Hogwarts. Lucius didn’t smile as freely as before, his movements no longer boyish and playful, but calculated. His tinkling laughter was lost forever when the veil of darkness embraced them both, turning Lucius into nothing more than an animated doll.Draco was the mirror image of his father; perhaps that was the reason why Severus loved his godson so much. With his angelic looks, Draco could have pass for a figure in Renaissance paintings. Lucius, however, was tall and finely toned; his flawless body would make the god Apollo green with envy. Severus used to love to run his hands through Lucius’ waist-length hair. It was breathtaking, his hair, a waterfall of golden silk threads. And his eyes, pools of liquid mercury…A crisp knock on the door brought Severus out of his reverie. Narcissa’s sickeningly sweet voice chirped, “Severus! How do you do?”Her customary smile was in place, eyelashes fluttered girlishly. She seemed not a day over twenty-five, he thought, despite the fact that her son was about to turn sixteen in a few days.He hated this woman! She was the cause of Severus’ misery; the reason why Lucius joined the Dark Lord. She apathetically stole Lucius away from Severus’ side with her villainous Veela power, and there she was, speaking to Severus as if she had the rights!He gave her one of his infamous scowl, and asked rather impatiently, “Just say what you want, Narcissa. I have no time for pleasantries. Unlike someone, I have more important things to see to.”“Always the peeved Potions Master, aren’t you, Severus?” Narcissa giggled. “You are so much fun to toy with.” Her playful demeanor suddenly disappeared, “But anyway, I need you to do me a favor.”Severus warily asked, “What kind of favor, Narcissa? And before you ask, no, I will not brew you a love potion.”Narcissa smirked, “Why would I need a love potion, Severus? No, what I am about to ask you is much more simple. I need some slow-working poisons… for a certain godson of yours…”Fear gripped Severus’ heart. “Draco? Why, Narcissa?” His wand hand was shaking dangerously beneath his long robe.“He refused to take the Dark Mark!” Narcissa screeched. “He is the Heir of the Malfoys, and the Malfoys have always been a supporter of our Lord. No son of mine shall be a blood traitor, Severus.” She sneered, “He is in his room right now, unconscious, I believe. I hope the curses didn’t kill him yet… I need some entertainment when my dear husband is away, yes?”Rage consumed his entire mind, wiping away any reasonable thoughts. Draco. “Petrificus Totalus!” He shouted as Narcissa dropped to the ground with a sickening thud. With a disgusted look directed at the half-Veela, the Potions Master dashed out of the room to his godson’s chamber.“Draco!” He whispered fearfully when he saw the boy lying in a pool of blood. He swept Draco’s bloody form up in his arm and frantically looked around the spacious chamber. After he spotted the lit fireplace, with some Floo powder in his hand, he stepped into the burning fire and shouted, “Hogwarts Infirmary!” SsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsS “The impact on his head may leave a slight concussion. I don’t think that it would make a significant difference on his current condition. His eyes, however,” Madame Pomfrey shook her head sadly. “I can’t fix them, Severus. The curse was irreversible, as most Dark curses are. The nerves are completely ruined, and not even magic can fix that. I could only save the tear ducts, for the curse wasn’t meant to destroy them.”“Does that mean he is blind… permanently?” Severus asked in a desperate tone.“I’m afraid so. There will be light scarring in the pupils, but they won’t be really noticeable, unless one looks for it.” Pomfrey frowned as she looked at Draco’s profile. “He is way too thin, Severus… Severus?”Severus stayed silent; his gaze was fixed on Draco. The blond boy lay peacefully on the bed, his moon-spun hair spread out on the soft pillow in exquisite waves. The enormous cover was pulled up to his chin, wrapped around him like a giant cocoon. Severus sat on a high-backed chair next to the bed, and took Draco’s pale, fragile hand into his own. Your godson, his traitorous mind nagged at him, you couldn’t even save your own godson, Snape. It’s your entire fault that he is blind; it’s your fault because you didn’t arrive sooner. It’s your fault!And with those self-loathing thoughts, Severus sat motionless with his eyes trained on the slumbering teenager. SsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsS Ah… Draco woke with a groan. His eyes throbbed painfully; they were covered by something… a piece of cloth? Sleepily, he lifted a weak, trembling hand up to his face and touched the delicate material. It was dampen with some sort of potions, for the cloth smelled comfortingly of lavender. He couldn’t think, his exhausted mind swirled with incoherent thoughts, and the sweet smell hypnotized him, lured him into a world filled with wonder. Sleep, yes, sleep was good. He wanted to sleep and forget…“Draco? Draco, are you awake?” A familiar voice from somewhere next to him asked worriedly.Annoyed, he mumbled something unintelligibly, twisted around and buried his face into the big, fluffy pillow. He just wanted thisperson to leave him alone. He was tired and sleepy, and this bed was begging him to sleep, warm and comfortable as it is. Why, it’s much warmer than his king-sized bed at the Manor. That place was always cold. Mmmmmm… the Manor…mother…Draco bolted up. He ripped at the gauze wrapped around his eyes, but someone’s hands were holding him back. They maneuvered him to a warm body; strong arms embraced him, circled around his waist. The hands were stroking his back now, and a silkily soothing voice murmured softly.“It’s okay, Draco. You’re safe now.”“Se… Severus?” His voice was weak and raspy from all the screaming he did earlier. “They hurt, Severus, my eyes hurt. She did something to them. My mother, she…”“Shh… She won’t hurt you anymore, Draco. You’re at Hogwarts, she can’t get pass the wards, don’t worry.” Severus rubbed Draco’s shaking shoulders. His once proud, confident godson was sobbing pathetically in his arms. That woman will pay for this, he thought heatedly.Draco gasped. “My eyes, what about my eyes? Are they…?” A horrible cough cut him off, his lithe form quivered pitifully. Had he not grabbed the Potions Master’s robe, he would have fallen over.Severus tightened his arms; he pressed Draco’s face against his chest, and rocked the fifteenth years old boy as he would an infant. “She destroyed them, Draco. All of the nerves were burned with that curse. Madam Pomfrey couldn’t save them, I’m sorry.” He reached out to the bedside table and picked up a flask filled with amethyst-colored fluid. “Here, drink this. It will dull the pain in your eyes.”Tenderly, he lifted Draco’s face up and put the flask between his chapped lips. Draco drank greedily. When he was done, Severus wiped a few spilled drops of potion on his protégé’s chin.“You should go back to sleep,” he dropped a kiss on Draco’s soft blond hair. “You must be exhausted, Draco. Draco?”He smiled vaguely. Draco’s head was tucked neatly between the crook of Severus’ neck, his breathing was even, and soft snores were coming from him. Carefully, as to not wake the sleeping boy, he slipped off the bed and covered the boy with a blanket. “Sweet dreams, my Dragon,” he said, and kissed Draco’s forehead one last time before he went out the Infirmary’s door. End of Chapter One A/N: Didn’t I tell you that it was extremely mushy and cliché? oNo, this will not be a Severus/Draco story. Severus is just a father figure to Draco, and I think he would show affections to people he loves. He will still be a snarky bastard to everyone else.Narcissa is a very good actress. She can fake any emotions, and people will believe her, mostly because she is a part Veela. You might have noticed that she reacts very differently to different situations. Narcissa is a woman who knows what she wants, and she does whatever it takes to get it.Please review. It doesn’t have to be a whole essay on my horrid story, just tell me what you think. “I like it,” or “It sucks!” will do.Also, this fic was posted on fanfiction.net and fictionalley.org under the name Serpentine de Lioncourt, and foreverfandom.net under Serpentine. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Disclaimer: So, I’m J.K. Rowling. I own Harry Potter and everything, whoot! –coughs- No, not really. I’m just a freshman in high school with nothing better to do than writing fan fiction, please don’t sue.Author Notes: ‘Ello, readers. Serpentine is back again with another chapter. She is very sorry for the lack of update, as she is a lazy pig. Her plot bunny died because Shadoe licked it, but Shadoe revived said plot bunny again.This chapter will be tinged with (attempted) humor to lighten the mood. Enjoy.Thank you for all of the lovely reviews, by the way. I twisted the plot of the story a bit from how I was going to write it. The ‘Lucius is a psychopath’ thing just jumped out, I didn’t plan it or anything. Blame the newly resurrected plot bunny.Nothing really happened in this chapter, it’s more of a transitional thing. Sorry…Warning: Graphic abuse, slash, AU, OOC-ness, insanity, sappy-ness, etc.Pairings: Harry/Draco, unrequited Blaise/Draco, Severus/Lucius, and some other unimportant het pairings. When Flowers DieChapter TwoA Harry/Draco love story. His hands were shackled to a stone wall; his clothes were torn off, leaving him naked and vulnerable to his predators. His thin body was decorated with purple bruises, and the gashes were weeping crimson blood. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel the sting from the various wounds. He was pleasantly numb. It felt like he was floating in the water, floating without a care in the world. Wearily, Draco tried to savor one of the few pain-free moments of his life. Why, he didn’t feel the pain that comes with each gulp of air anymore. He leaned to the side, pressing his cheek to the cool wall when he heard his father’s smooth voice spoke. “Hello, my son.” Lucius smirked, fondled a golden strand of hair between his fingers. “How long has it been since we last met, I wonder?” “Fa… father,” gasped Draco. His eyes widen; he tried in vain to back up against the wall, bloody fingernails scratched furiously at the stony blocks. He groaned as the enchanted leather whip lashed out at his legs, all the pain came crashing down at once. “Father! Please, stop!” he cried, panting heavily. Lucius came closer, his long finger lifted Draco’s chin up. “Oh, but this is just the appetizer, my dearest. I want to hear you scream for me, just for me.” Maniacal laughter escaped his lips, his eyes sparked with madness. “Just for me,” he repeated the last part lovingly; his hand brushed gently against the boy’s bleeding cheek. He held a burning iron rod in his hand, twirling it around appreciatively. Without warning, he pushed the sizzling rod to Draco’s chest, causing the small boy’s body to tremble uncontrollably. Draco howled, his eyes scrunched up tightly, his hands curled into fists. “Crucio!” Lucius cackled. His eyes roamed hungrily at the writhing, screaming form. The blond hair of his son was so like his own, so pretty, even matted with blood like that. He kept the Cruciatus curse on for about five minutes, and when he finally took it off, Draco’s face was wet with glittering tears. “My poor dragon... tired already?” the older man cooed. He walked to the opposite wall, where all of the torture devices were placed. A particularly sharp-looking dagger caught his attention; he grinned, the grin of an insane man, and took the dagger over to where his son was shackled. Almost lazily, he carved the Malfoy crest into the pale skin of his son, all the while muttered about how beautiful Draco was with blood seeping out of him. The younger blonde moaned softly, and let out one final piercing scream as Lucius brutally plunged the dagger into his shoulder. “There, there,” said Lucius, the crazed glint was in his eyes still. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? You bleed so prettily, Draco, I just can’t get enough of it.” With unusual kindness, Lucius relieved Draco of his chains. He embraced the bloody boy with the manner of an affectionate parent, and kissed the bleeding wounds tenderly. “You know that I do this because I love you, right, Draco?” He traced the burn on his son’s chest with the tip of his finger. “Mine,” he murmured. “My dearest son, my dragon, my heir. No one will ever hurt you, Draco, I promise. You’re mine.” “Father…” Draco whispered weakly. He felt Lucius’ hand smoothed his hair and velvety lips on his forehead. “Sleep now, precious.” He was being carried, his head lolling about Lucius’ shoulder. A black cloak was draped around him, engulfed him in its silky softness, and as the darkness took over, he faintly heard his father’s tinkling laughter.“It’s time for you to take your potions, Draco.” Madam Pomfrey placed a silver tray full of potions of different colors on the bedside table. “You are feeling better, I hope?” After peering at his face anxiously, she quickly helped him up and fluffed his already fluffy pillow. “You certain are looking better than when you first got here, what with the blood all over your hair and such,” she rambled on. “Here, drink this first,” she pushed an azure-colored flask of potion into his shaking hands. “It’s for the burn around your eyes.”Draco was in a daze. His dream was plagued with memories from the past, with his father’s painful whip and his feathery kisses afterward. Subconsciously, he fingered the mark on his chest, feeling the raised flesh in the form of the Malfoy crest. What does it look like now? With trembling hands, he lifted the flask to his lips and swallowed the bitter potion in one gulp.“Good boy. Now, drink this one,” said Madam Pomfrey, a bottle with scarlet potion in her hand. She kept on passing bottles to the blonde boy, until Draco had drunk all of the potions in the tray. Then, she began to remove the gauze around the boy’s eyes carefully, tsked to herself as she saw the angry burn. “Strange, this should be healing by now,” she muttered. With a flick of her wand, she summoned some clean fabric from her cabinet and dipped it in a bow of potion. She murmured another charm, and the new gauze automatically wrapped itself up just as the previous one, covering the ugly burn on Draco’s face. Merlin forbids if Draco knows how awful he looks right now. With his vanity, he would throw a fit, she thought wearily. And he would scream if he saw himself yesterday. Poor child. Madam Pomfrey smiled ruefully, “So, you’re back here again, huh, Draco? You’re always such a docile patient. If only the other children would take their potions like you, my job would have been a lot easier.”Draco gave her a small, timid smile. “I can’t say that it’s nice to be back, because it isn’t, what with the… circumstances being as they are.” He shifted uncomfortably. “But it’s nice to see… umm… hear you again, Madam Pomfrey.” Merlin knew how many times he’d been in this Hospital Wing. Pomfrey had taken a liking to him, her most frequent patient, and also the most compliant. It has its advantages.“Such a polite and courteous boy you are,” she teased, her eyes sparkled at her favorite patient. “I will come back in an hour to give you your next dose of potions.” She banished the tray to her office and closed the curtain around Draco’s bed. “Professor Snape will be with you in a moment. Try to rest, Draco, and don’t overexcite yourself, mind you.” As the matron walked away, Draco leaned heavily against the giant pillow behind him. Those potions were the vilest things that he’d ever tasted. Really, one would think that his godfather would concoct something better tasting, talented as he was.The blonde sighed heavily. He longed to see the daylight again, even if only for a short while. Curse Narcissa and her sadistic ways, he thought. Oddly enough, he didn’t feel as upset as he should have. He was blinded, for Merlin’s sake. He should have threw a tantrum and break all things in his wake by now. Madam Pomfrey must have mixed a Calming Draught into one of the potions, he realized belatedly, mentally hitting himself for being unobservant.Gingerly, he prodded at the bandage, wincing slightly as a wave of pain passed through. A slightly calloused hand grabbed his, and the voice that was the very symbol of comfort rang in his ear.”What are you doing, Draco? Do you enjoy the pain?” Severus’ voice was stern. He sat down at the end of the bed, eyes staring intently at his reclining godson. “How are you feeling, Draco?” his voice softened. “I’m fine; you don’t have to worry about me. Madam Pomfrey did her job well.” Draco fumbled around for his godfather’s hand, and clasped it tightly. He sat up on the bed, leaned forward, and gently brushed Severus’ shoulder. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”Severus was touched, he really was. “Of course not, Draco. I stunned her, and I carried you here through the Floo. Your mother…” he whispered as realization hit, fear filled his next few words. “I left her alone in the Manor. She would probably be with Bellatrix at the Dark Lord’s Manor right now.” He shamefully lowered his head. “I shouldn’t have forgotten that she was there. We could have sent her to Azkaban.”Draco didn’t answer. An uncomfortable silence descended upon them. For a long while, Severus just stared down at his and Draco’s interlacing hands. His skin seems vaguely yellowish compared to Draco’s snow-colored skin.“Is it still raining outside?” Draco suddenly asked, curiosity laced his voice.Severus moved slightly to the side to look out of the darkened window. “Yes. It’d been raining non-stop ever since this morning. Such strange weather we’re having this month.”“I want to go out there,” Draco said, his voice soft. “I want to feel the rain against my skin.” He coughed again, his grip on Severus’ hand tightened. “Please, Severus, would you grant a boy his dying wish?” He coughed, as if to emphasize his point.The Potions Master rolled his eyes; the blonde was just too melodramatic for his own good. “You’re not dying, Draco, so stop saying that,” he chuckled lightly. “You’re just sick from the after-effects of the curse, and you need to stay in bed.”The young boy whined, “But Sev… I really, really want to go outside. Please? Just a short trip and I’ll stay in this bed for two whole weeks afterward if you want me to.” He turned his bandaged eyes toward the source of Severus’ voice, his lips trembled dramatically. “It might...” Another coughing fit, this time genuine, wracked his body. “It might make me feel better, I think. Nature has always been a part of me, Sev.”Severus sighed. He didn’t want to give in, not really, but the constant whining of Draco was getting to his nerves. “Spoiled brat,” he muttered. “Oh, fine. Let’s get out of here before Madam Pomfrey comes back. If she starts to nag, you will have to take the blame for this.” He paused. “Can you stand?”“I can try,” Draco replied happily, glad that he was finally getting his way. Just as his feet touched the ground, they slipped out from underneath him. “Sev?”With another sigh, Severus gathered the boy into his arms. He weighed almost nothing, thin as he was. “You need to eat more, Draco,” he said. “And stop calling me Sev,” he added with a mock-annoyed tone. Draco just buried his face deeper into the folds of the dark haired man’s robes; a contented sigh escaped his lips.Out into the wet earth they went, the lanterns on the walls lighted their path. Severus took Draco to the rose garden, the water-proof charm he cast on both of them kept them dry for the most part. He wasn’t the best when it comes to charms. After he settled Draco down onto one of the stone benches, he took off his cloak and wrapped his godson in it.“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice etched with worry.Draco shook his head slowly. He wandlessly took off the charm, exposing himself to the falling rain. His hair was dripping sparkly droplets of water, the newly changed gauze around his eyes was soaking wet. Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t be very happy about this, he thought vaguely. -End of Chapter Two- Author Notes: Yup, our Lucius is definitely insane. –grins- But don’t you love him? He’s so adorable… -cuddles Lucius- And he loves Draco, really, he does. He just has a strange way of showing his affection. –coughs- -shifty eyes-Lucius: I love you, Serpentine.Me: I love you, too. Let’s go around hurting people, especially Narcissa!Lucius: Okay!And we walk off into the sunset together… heh. With a lot of leather whips. And chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.I know that Narcissa is a loving mother in canon, but this is my fic, so bear it with me, people. I don’t like her.By the way, I am trying to make the characters as three-dimensional as possible. I know that I’m not doing a very good job at it, forgive me.Read and review, please.
10173035	Name	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Sirius Black, Remus Lupin", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by SpoonyLupin", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "3,679", "Additional Tags": "Pre-Slash, Pre-Relationship, First Kiss, Male Bonding, Friendship/Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cheesy, Marauders' Era, Marauders Friendship", "Relationship": "Sirius Black/Remus Lupin", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Sirius didn’t know what had awakened him. Peter’s obnoxious snoring, maybe, or the way James liked to thrash around in his sleep. Either way, Sirius was now wide awake, staring up at the dark crimson curtains surrounding his bed.He found this happening more and more as the days went on - waking up in the middle of night and not being able to get back to sleep. Sirius thought he had grown accustomed to James’s and Peter’s noisy sleeping habits after nearly seven years, but they seemed to be interfering with Sirius’s sleep now more than ever.The reason for it wasn’t lost on Sirius, but it was something he had never admitted to anyone, not even to any of his dorm mates. He was Sirius Black, after all - proud, confident, and brave. He didn’t get scared.Except now he was.He shook his head, attempting to push those thoughts from his mind, and he turned over onto his left side. His eyes found a gap in the bed hangings, and his gaze traveled across the moonlit floor of their dormitory. It was then that he noticed that Remus’s bed hangings stood wide open, revealing an empty bed.“Moony?” Sirius whispered. He frowned, sat up, and pushed his own curtains open. “Moony?” he asked again, louder this time. There was no answer, save for Peter’s incessant snoring and James shuffling around in his own bed.It was strange for Remus to be out of bed at this time of night. He was a fairly sound sleeper and detested getting up before he absolutely had to.Sirius got up, quickly crossed the room, and slowly opened the door. It squeaked loudly on its hinges, despite his best efforts to the contrary, but no one else in the room seemed to notice. Peter’s snoring went on and James remained silent for once.Sirius descended the stairs into the common room, fully expecting Remus to be at one of the tables with about a million books and papers, revising for their upcoming N.E.W.T.s. The room stood empty, however, the previously roaring fire now nothing more than a few pale orange embers.Pushing his hair back from his forehead, he called for Moony again, knowing there wouldn’t be an answer. Remus wasn’t there.It was then that Sirius felt a tinge of worry settle into his stomach. Where could Remus have gone? He hated sneaking out and breaking the rules, especially since he had been made a prefect. He only did so when Sirius and the others coaxed him into it, and even then he had gone quite grudgingly, so he wouldn’t have gone anywhere on his own, would he?Figuring there was only one way to find out, Sirius turned on his heel and hurried back up the stairs. He immediately went to James’s trunk and found that the Invisibility Cloak was missing. James always kept it in the same place, but it wasn’t there. James never minded the others borrowing it, but Sirius found it extremely odd that Remus might have taken it. Remus Lupin sneak out on his own with the cloak? It almost seemed laughable.Sirius reached further down into James’s trunk until his fingers came into contact with a piece of parchment. Grabbing the Marauder’s Map, Sirius crossed the room and snatched his wand from his bedside table. He muttered the password and moved into the pillar of moonlight streaming through the window, waiting for the map to reveal itself.Sirius’s eyes scanned the mostly still map until he found it - a dot labeled Remus Lupin slowly rounding the lake.“Moony, Moony, Moony…” Sirius hummed to himself. “Wonderful time to start breaking the rules, in our seventh year!”He knew Remus was a big boy and could take care of himself, but Sirius felt compelled to go after him, just like he had felt compelled to find out where Remus was in the first place. Ever since their second year when they had found out Remus was a werewolf, Sirius had felt oddly overprotective of Remus. He couldn’t help it.Sirius went to his trunk and pulled out some clothes. ~~~~~~~~~~ Remus hugged the Invisibility Cloak to his body, his shoes squeaking softly in the damp grass around the lake. The only other sounds were that of the water lapping gently against the shore and a few crickets chirping into the moonlit night.The moon was almost perfectly round - tomorrow it would be full - casting a bright stream of silver light across the water. Remus hated to admit how pretty it could be at times.Remus couldn’t believe how quickly the time had gone. It was already May of their seventh year. Tomorrow night’s full moon would be the last he and the Marauders would spend at Hogwarts. After that, everything would change.It scared Remus to death to think about what life held for him outside of school. The others all had job offers, even Peter. They had all expressed interest in wanting to work for the Order of the Phoenix full time, so it seemed unlikely that they would take them, but at least they had the option. Nobody wanted to hire a werewolf.Remus had thought about getting a job at some Muggle place as a last resort, but even if he found one, chances were it wouldn’t last. Employers wouldn’t be very sympathetic to an employee who had to take regular sick days every month, and coming into work with bruises after a full moon wouldn’t exactly help either.He had been grateful and ecstatic when Dumbledore had offered him a place at Hogwarts, but now, what good would it do? Remus would pledge his allegiance to the Order, certainly, and what he had learned would certainly come in handy there, but Remus wouldn’t even be able to support himself. His parents were dead and they hadn’t exactly been rich either like the Blacks or the Potters.Remus knew that Dumbledore, Sirius, and James would help him out if the need arose, but Remus wasn’t going to take anything from them if he could help it. He was an adult now and that meant he was supposed to be able to take care of himself as well.Continuing on around the lake, Remus kept trying to make sense out of everything that was going through his mind - the overwhelming thoughts that had been keeping him awake for weeks now. It finally became too much tonight and he felt the need to take a walk, as much as he hated being out on the grounds after dark. He hated to think about what would happen if he got caught, but lying in bed and pretending to be asleep had gotten old long ago.When Remus first heard footsteps behind him, his initial instinct was to throw the Invisibility Cloak over himself, but he didn’t. He didn’t feel like he needed to for reasons he couldn’t explain. Remus turned, squinting through the dark to see who was behind him.“I found you,” came Sirius’s voice out of the shadows. It was several more seconds before he got close enough for Remus to see. Neither of them said anything for a long time, but then Sirius spoke again. “Moony, out on the grounds by himself after dark! I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes.”“I couldn’t sleep,” Remus whispered, even though there was no one else around to hear them.“Join the club.”“You either?”Sirius shook his head, his long black hair picking up reflections of moonlight. “I saw your bed was empty and got worried.”A small smirk passed over Remus’s lips. “You don’t have to check up on me, Padfoot.”“I know, it’s just unlike you leave to Gryffindor tower in the middle of the night.” More silence fell, and Sirius was beginning to wonder just when things had gotten so awkward between them. “What are you doing here?” he asked, more to break the silence than to get an answer.“I told you,” Remus said, turning and continuing to walk around the edge of the lake. Sirius followed, falling into step beside the werewolf.“Tomorrow will be our last full moon here,” Remus finally said, his steps still not slowing. And then, almost as an afterthought, he mumbled, “My last full moon with the three of you.”“Moony,” Sirius said, almost urgently, reaching for his friend’s shoulder, “you don’t think things are going to change, do you? I mean, just because we’re leaving school, we’re not going to abandon you for Merlin’s sake.”Remus stopped and faced Sirius. He hadn’t intended on sharing his feelings with Sirius, but once Sirius’s hand has touched his shoulder, Remus felt like a floodgate had been opened. “James has made it quite clear that he wants to start a family with Lily once school is over,” Remus said. “I highly doubt she’ll want him leaving to run round with a werewolf once a month.”“She loves you, she’s not going to care,” Sirius replied firmly. He snorted and went on, “You make it sound like James will be leaving to shag some random bird. If it’s just to help you through a transformation, Lily will be more than fine with it.”“What about the next girl you’re with?” Remus asked. “I highly doubt she’ll even like you being friends with a werewolf, let alone leaving to spend nights with me. And any girl Peter happens to find, because I’m sure he will.”“Moony…” Sirius knew exactly what Remus was getting at - that Sirius and Peter wouldn’t have any problem finding significant others just as James had, but the fact that Remus was a werewolf made it unlikely that he would.“And that’s the way it should be,“ Remus said quickly, perhaps realizing that he had sounded a little bitter. “I don’t know why it makes me so uncomfortable to think about you guys spending full moons with me once we leave. It’s just…this is school. We’re supposed to do things like that here, but the three of you will have much more important things to worry about once we leave.”Sirius shook his head. “Moony, you’re our friend. There’s nothing more important than that! Especially now with this bloody war going on.”“I think there is,” Remus said, but Sirius wasn’t exactly sure what he meant. “James starting a family with Lily is more important than him spending full moons with me.” Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but Remus didn’t stop. “You may disagree with that, but that’s how I feel. You, and James, and Peter starting your own lives and not having to take care of me all the time - that‘s important to me.”“Remus,” Sirius said, sounding confused, “when was it ever about ‘taking care’ of you? We know you don’t like to be coddled. I thought it was…having fun.”Remus clenched his teeth and turned his head to look out over the lake. “It was never fun for me, Padfoot. Sure, spending full moons with you is better than being by myself, but it’s never fun.”Sirius sighed and pushed his hair back from his eyes in frustration. “I didn’t mean it that way. I know it isn’t fun for you, but I thought this whole thing was about…making it better for you. Not taking care of you and not making it fun, just…better.”“And you do, Padfoot,” Remus said sincerely. “You do, but I’d feel guilty if it interfered with your real lives. That’s what starts once we get out of here - real life - and I want you guys to worry about that, not me anymore.”Sirius stared at him like he had already transformed into the wolf, a full twenty-four hours before the full moon. “You’re talking crazy, Moony. You know that, don’t you? It’s not like you’re an invalid on your deathbed needing constant care. It’s one night a month! I think we can spare that without it inferring with our lives too much.”“You’re not listening to me,” Remus said tiredly. “I feel guilty interrupting your lives at all. That may be irrational, but I can’t help it, I just do.”There was a long pause; Sirius wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. “Well, what do you think we became Animagi for?! Just for the hell of it? Just so we can sit around and look nice? Except for Wormtail, of course - rats never look nice.”“Will you please be serious for a moment?”“I am!” Sirius cried, sounding frustrated. “Think about this from our point of view, would you? Do you think we would have wasted all that time becoming Animagi if we weren’t serious about wanting to spend full moons with you? Just because we’re leaving school doesn’t - shouldn’t - change anything. Why are you making it sound like our gifts to you are suddenly obsolete?”Remus sighed, staring down at his shoes. “I didn’t mean that.” He bit at his lower lip and hesitated before facing his friend again. “I’ll always appreciate what the three of you did for me, but I just don’t want to bother you guys with this for the rest of our lives.”Sirius smirked. “It’s not a bother, Moony. Honestly, when have you ever known me and James to do anything that was a bother?”A small laugh escaped from Remus. “Never.”Another moment of silence fell. Remus turned and started to walk away from Sirius, approaching the large shade tree at the edge of the lake. He leaned up against it, watching the nearly full moon through the gaps in the leaves above him.Sirius followed, coming up being Remus and leaning up against the trunk of the tree as well. “What else is bothering you?”“Everything!” Remus said, finally turning to look at him. Their faces were only a few inches apart, and Sirius could feel Remus’s warm breath against his cheek. Remus only held his gaze for a moment before looking out over the lake. “Leaving school. Having to be responsible for ourselves for once. I mean, there aren’t going to be any teachers coming after us to make sure we’re safe. We’ll be on our own.”“Yeah,” Sirius agreed, the worry in his voice echoing Remus‘s. “We’re adults - that sounds so insane, doesn’t it?”Remus snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid too.”“Just don’t let it get out,” Sirius said firmly. “It’ll ruin my reputation.”The smile on Remus’s face slowly faded and he exhaled heavily. “It’s not like I want to be in school forever, but…it’s safe here. The war doesn’t seen so real. The biggest things we have to worry about right now are homework and exams.”“And the fact that we’re running out of time to play pranks on Snivellus.”Remus rolled his eyes. “Stop it.”“What?”“I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you and you keep making jokes!”“Sorry.” Sirius swallowed hard. “It’s what I do when I’m nervous.”“It’s what you do all the time.” Almost as an afterthought, Remus looked at Sirius again and asked, “Nervous about what?”“Doing this.” Before Sirius could lose his nerve, he leaned forward and kissed Remus. Neither one of them moved and Sirius could only imagine what was going through Remus’s mind at the moment. However, the fact that Remus was still kissing him encouraged Sirius. He pressed his lips against Remus’s a little harder, parting them, but that was when Remus finally pulled away. He gasped, his eyes searching Sirius’s for some sort of answer.Remus took several heavy breaths and shut his eyes before he got out, “Padfoot…just don’t.”“Don’t what?”“This!” Remus hissed, gesturing between them. He pulled away from the tree, taking a few steps backwards. “I know you, okay?” Remus rubbed harshly at his lips with one hand. It almost looked like he was trying to wipe away any memory of what had just happened. “I know you.”Sirius looked confused. His fingers began digging into the bark of the tree out of fear, and he began to wonder if he had made a huge mistake. “I thought…I didn’t hear you protesting.”Even in the dark, Sirius could see the blush that appeared in Remus’s cheeks. “I wasn’t, but I’m not going to do this with you. I‘m not going to be your flavor the week.”“Whoever said…?”“I know you,” Remus repeated, biting each word out this time. “You’ve got a different girl every week…you’ve never been with the same one longer than a month - I’m not going to be the next notch in your belt. I’m not.”“Moony…” Sirius said quietly, slowly closing the distance between them again. “You’ll never be those things to me. You’re so much more important to me than whatever girl I was snogging last.”“See?” Remus asked, his eyes still searching Sirius’s, as if they held all of the answers he was looking for. “You don’t even remember her name - which was Summer, by the way.”“Ah, yeah, Summer,” Sirius said nonchalantly.“And that’s exactly what I mean.” Remus stepped away from Sirius again. “I don’t want to be ’that bloke’ whenever you find your next conquest.”“Now you’re the one who isn’t listening to me,” Sirius insisted, stalking closer to Remus. “You could never be that unimportant to me - I’d never treat you like that.”“Padfoot…” Remus took another step backwards, and Sirius reached out to grab the front of his robes.“If you go any further, we’re going to be in the lake,” he pointed out, gesturing behind Remus.Remus’s breath was shaky all of a sudden and he was unable to hold Sirius’s gaze. Remus’s eyes traveled along his friend’s cheek, his nose, and his mouth. Licking his own lips, Remus said, “Maybe I want to go further.” Before Sirius could respond, Remus leaned into Sirius, pressing their lips together once more.“Moony…” Sirius sighed when they parted for the second time.“Yeah, you might have told me just once in the last seven years that you wanted to snog,” Remus teased.Sirius put up his hands, trying to appear innocent. “I didn’t know! Honest I didn’t. But what about you? You never said anything about it either!”Remus fidgeted, pressing the toe of his shoe into the soft grass underneath. “I didn’t know either…not until you actually did it.”“Yeah,” Sirius hummed in response. “Not until I came out here and…you look really good in the moonlight. Did anyone ever tell you that?”“Merlin, no.”A smile curled itself across Sirius’s lips. “I didn’t imagine so, but you do. And just hearing you talk about how things are going to change once we leave school…” He broke off, shaking his head. “To be honest, it scares me even more than the war to think about us not keeping in touch. You guys are the best friends I’ve ever had and I don’t want to lose that. I can’t speak for Peter or James, but I don’t want anything to change.”One of Remus’s eyebrows went up and his eyes grew slightly wide. “Padfoot, that’s a hell of a thing to say after we’ve just snogged.”“I don’t mean that!” Sirius cried. “I mean…I don’t want us to go our separate ways when we leave. That’s what you made it sound like - like we’re all going to have our own lives and never speak again. That’s what some friends may do, but I don’t want that to happen to us. At all. I still want to hang out with you all the time and I still want to spend full moons with you,” Sirius went on. “And that’s not a burden to me or a hassle. It’s what I want to do.”“So…” Remus said nervously, looking down at the Invisibility Cloak still in his arms. He ran his thumb across the fabric, watching the way certain strands picked up glints of the moonlight. “So that’s what we are? Friends?”“Of course.”“Well, friends don’t snog, Padfoot, just so you know,” Remus said, smiling up at his friend.Sirius ran his teeth along his lower lip. He reached up to run his thumb along Remus’s cheek, the way Remus ran his own thumb along the fabric of the cloak. “We’ll always be friends, Moony. Just now…we’re a little bit more than that.”Remus grinned at that. “Okay, good. I’d be really worried if we were still just friends.”“Why don’t we just…see where things go?” Sirius asked. “Believe me, I didn’t see this coming, but now that it has…I don’t want it to be over just yet.”“I don’t either.”“We’re agreed then.” Sirius’s face suddenly broke into a grimace. “What in the bloody hell are we going to tell James and Peter?”It was Remus’s turn to make a face, but then he snickered. “I really don’t to think about that right now, but I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that we kissed. Let’s worry about one thing at a time, all right? We can worry about James and Peter later.”Sirius suddenly grabbed one of Remus’s hands in his. “Okay. I’d like to worry about snogging some more right now, in fact.” He tugged on Remus’s hand, pulling him back across the grass to the shade tree.Remus went, but then he asked, “What in the name of Merlin are we getting ourselves into?” A hint of worry had worked its way into his voice again.“Not sure,” Sirius said, entwining his fingers into the front of Remus’s robes again. He leaned back against the trunk of the tree, pulling Remus against him. “But I guess we’ll find out.”Remus sought out Sirius’s lips with his own, kneading them together, the leaves sighing quietly in the breeze above them. Remus wasn’t sure where this was going either, but this time, the uncertainty didn‘t scare him. The end
10178141	EDate	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by SlytherinKisses [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "", "published": "2008-01-13T00:00:00", "words": "1,822", "Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Slash sex, Sexual Content, Drama, First Time, Mystery, Suspense, Romance", "Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	That rich blonde lady, J.K. Rowling owns this HP World, I just manipulate the characters for my own entertainment. Harry sighed, annoyed at his friends. Once again they were trying to get him to at least try to have a better social life. In their opinion, a seventeen year old male should’ve had more than one kiss, which was always described as ‘wet’ distastefully.In actuality, Harry wouldn’t exactly mind having someone to date, but he wanted to be positive they wanted him, not The-Boy-Who-Lived.“Guys, would you just stop? I’m fine.” Harry rolled his eyes.“Harry, Voldemort’s gone, you killed him last year. So why don’t you date anyone?” Hermione asked, worried for her friend.“Hermione, you know as well as I do, I want someone who doesn’t want me for being Harry-Bloody-Potter.”“You know, Harry, I might know a way around that.” Ron grinned.“How?” Harry asked suspiciously.“Well, you know as well as I do wizards have their own Internet, I think it’s called. But we have WizardNet.” Ron smiled happily.“Where are you going with this?” Harry groaned, willing Ron to get to the point.“Charlie told me about this site, Edate, and its like the wizard version of a dating site. Apparently, it’s also quite common to put up pictures that aren’t of you. Something like a picture of a broom, maybe. Pretty much so people get to know you without worrying about who you actually are.” Ron said, proud of his suggestion.“I don’t know about that, Ron. There are probably a lot of weirdo people on there.” Harry said nervously.“Come on, Harry, at least give it a try.” Hermione urged, happy with her boyfriend’s suggestion, as well.“Fine,” He agreed reluctantly.“Great!” Ron grinned, grabbing Harry’s laptop from his trunk, and turning it on.“EDate.com.” Ron muttered, typing it slowly into the address bar. After the royal blue screen had fully loaded, Ron clicked on the glowing green button that said ‘New Account’ on it.“First name? What do you want to be your first name, Harry? Your real name would probably give away your identity.” Ron asked.“Uh, I don’t know. What do you think, ‘Mione?” Harry asked, turning to the brilliant bushy-haired witch.“Hm, you could go with Emerald. It sounds nice, and it’s the color of your eyes, so hopefully you won’t forget.” Hermione offered, Ron typing in the name in confirmation of his approval.“Password?” Ron prompted.“Hm, something I won’t forget…RonMioneLuv would work!” He chuckled, teasing the two, but serious about it being the password.Ron blushed, a muttered “shut up,” said under his breath, but he typed it in dutifully.“Hm, age - 17, school - Hogwarts.” Ron typed in a few he already knew the answers to.“Should we put down the school?” Harry asked worriedly.“It should be fine as long as you don’t mention what house you’re in, plus there isn’t anybody in the school named Emerald, or anything close to it, so they couldn’t guess.” Hermione explained.Ron went to select ‘straight’ under orientation without a second thought.“Uhm, Ron? Wrong one.” Harry blushed, having never told anyone about his male preferences before.“Huh?” Ron asked, confused.“Harry? You’re gay? And you didn’t tell us?” Hermione asked.Harry nodded, cursing his blush, “You don’t mind, do you?” He asked nervously.“Of course not!” She scolded, hugging him tightly to her chest.“Yeah, mate. You know, Charlie’s gay, too. Last I heard, he was dating some bloke in Romania that was fascinated in dragons.” Ron rolled his eyes, changing the orientation button to ‘gay’ quickly.“Okay, what are your hobbies?” Ron asked, turning towards him.“Uhm, Quidditch, definantly. Reading, listening to music, hanging out with friends, etc.” Harry said.“Okay, why you’re on a dating site, now.” Ron prompted him.“Hm, I want someone to date me because they like me for me and not who everyone thinks I am.” Harry replied truthfully, feeling like a sap.“Okay, last question, now. You have to describe your perfect man.” Ron told him.“Someone who listens, and talks to me respectively. Someone that can have fun, but be serious. Basically someone who understands.” Harry replied, blushing again.“What do you want to put as your display picture?” Ron asked, curious.“Hm…you know that picture Hermione was looking at last week, I think it was? The one with the crossed wands over the heart? That would be pretty cool.” Harry answered.“Okay…done!” Ron announced proudly. “What do we do now?” Hermione asked the redhead.“Now? We wait.” Ron got up from where he was sitting, to go to his own room that Sirius let him and Hermione stay in for the rest of the summer.Hermione patted him on the shoulder comfortingly before she, too, left. “Don’t worry, Harry, there’s someone for everyone. You’ve just got to find him.” And then she was gone, and Harry was left with his sad thoughts that he never would find his ‘someone.’ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- That rich blonde lady, J.K. Rowling owns this HP World, I just manipulate the characters for my own entertainment. After surfing the internet for two hours, Harry figured out that was pretty much not helping his anxiety. With a barely audible sigh, he typed in the address of the wizard dating site and signed in. He clicked on a button stating that it would tell him what was new with the account. The screen flashed an annoying pink color, as a pink window came up: ‘30 PEOPLE HAVE BEEN MATCHED WITH YOU!’ The letters flashed, as he clicked on the link beside it.He went through the list slowly, stopping to shudder at a few random accounts that he quickly clicked the ‘deny’ button to. Some of the people scared him. Hell, some of the people were older than Albus Dumbledore - and that was just plain wrong! Too many freaked him out with their bizarre love for blood and pain, and others gave him the ‘stalker vibe.’He denied all of them, until he was left with one last person.Said person was 17 as well and went to Hogwarts. His name was Grey, according to his page, and he enjoyed Quidditch, talking to his friends, horseback riding, and writing. His perfect man would be someone who didn’t question his judgment, stood up for their beliefs, and didn’t want him because of his identity. Someone who was fiery and passionate, and not completely crazy. Harry quickly clicked the ‘accept’ button and then the mail icon. He addressed it to Grey. It read:“Hello! According to this site, we’re soul mates. Oh, along with another twenty nine men, who are obsessed with blood and pain. Don’t you just love the group orgy? Hah, no just kidding. Tell me about yourself?”Harry waited impatiently, glaring at the screen as if it was its fault that the other boy took so long, when in actuality, it wasn’t long at all. Harry nearly fell off the bed in surprise when an Instant Message popped up.Grey: Hello there, yourself, Emerald. Yes, I quite enjoy the soulless torturers on this site. Not.Harry scrambled to the keyboard to respond.Emerald: Great to see you aren’t lacking in the sarcasm department there, buddy. Now, tell me about yourself.Grey: Hm, lets see… Blonde, male, Hogwarts 7th year. Hates tortures on dating sites. Is currently shooting dirty looks at the Father who keeps smirking from behind his book of poetry, and cup of tea. Your turn, Oh Mysterious One.Harry laughed at the boy’s wit and sarcasm.Emerald: Brunette, male, Hogwarts 7th year as well. Agrees with said hating of the Dating Site Torturers, as they are now dubbed. Is currently staring blankly at screen in boredom, best friends a room away, probably fucking. And now said person, is trying to scrub out the mental images from his brain.Harry grimaced.Grey: I applaud your matching wit.Emerald: I applaud you for recognizing it.Pretty far away, a blonde boy of the name Draco snorted, causing his father to look over with a raised eyebrow at his son. Grey: Touche’, Mr. Emerald. --------------- The days sped by, and everyone became accustomed to him disappearing into his room for hours on end, and hurriedly eating so he could return to said room. Everyone was worried at the way he spent his days on his laptop speaking to the blonde boy of the name ‘Grey.’ It soon became sort of a sore spot for all.“Harry! It isn’t healthy for you to spend all of your time on this computer talking to some guy you don’t even know!” Hermione raged at him one day in his room.Harry looked up from his computer screen, where Grey and him were debating on muggle literature.“Hermione, you and Ron were the people encouraged me to get this dating site account, anyway!” He yelled back at her, before typing in a witty response to Grey’s thoughts about William Faulkner.“Yes, we did encourage you to get one, Harry! Not tell you to spend all of your time talking to that boy! You’re obsessed, Harry!” She insisted.“I am not. I just enjoy speaking to him. We connect.” He huffed, tuning her out in favor of his favourite hobby: speaking to Grey.She gave up, exhausted, and left him in peace.In fact, maybe Harry was a little obsessed, but Grey was so much fun to talk to! The blonde and him could talk for hours to each other, and they felt like they had known each other for their whole lives. There was definantly an attraction, and Harry sincerely felt that this was his soul mate. He didn’t need that electric current to shoot through his body the first time he touched the boy, to know, this was in fact, his ‘someone.’ He did crave that current though, and the tingly feelings that would occur every time they touched afterwards. With that thought in his mind, he proposed they meet, two days away, after the Welcoming Feast.------Draco smiled down at his laptop fondly. No matter how much his parents told him it wasn’t normal for a boy to obsessed with someone he had never met. He had really thought they would understand when he told them just how he felt about Emerald.“Father! I-I think I love him.” He interrupted his rant on ‘those damn computers’, in a small voice.Lucius’ anger disappeared almost immediately. “Son, all I ask is that you not be quite so obsessed. You don’t even know the boy’s real name, after all. Maybe - Maybe if you actually knew him, then this would be different.” Lucius left, patting Draco’s shoulder softly on his way out.Suspiciously bright Grey eyes looked down at the screen happily, as the boy called ‘Emerald’ suggested they meet each other.“Perfect.” He grinned, typing back a positive response.
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10146167	Follow My Lead	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Armitage Hux, Rey (Star Wars)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by watermelon_sugarbee", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "4,360", "Additional Tags": "space lesbians, Femslash, Hux is a Tease, rey is delighted, Strip Tease, (sort of), shower shenanigans, Oral Sex, so much of it i'm so sorry, girl sex lasts forever and ever, seriously it's just 4.5k of sex, sorry - Freeform, Reyux, Fem!Hux, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, rey has no chill", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Armitage Hux/Rey, Armitage Hux & Rey", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Rey is sitting in her living room, eating ice cream out of the carton, preparing herself for another Friday night alone. There’s nothing good on the crap cable she’s got, but she’s not above watching old reruns of Friends to forget the fact that she’s...that she’s single and dateless. It’s nothing new, but still. Depressing if she thinks about it too hard.A quick rapping at the door pulls her out of her head, and she tugs awkwardly at the stained t-shirt that she’s wearing over yoga pants as she moves to put the ice cream away and then answer the knock. It’s probably just Finn, without his keys. Again. He’s always forge—oh. Oh no. That’s not Finn.“Hello, I know this is weird, and we’ve never really spoken, but my shower—a pipe’s just broken and I have a date in an hour and I really...can I use yours?” Rey’s neighbor fidgets at the door in her…really short silk robe. It’s true, they’ve never really met. Rey knows very little about her. They’re neighbors, though, and Rey knows that she’s a tall, modelesque redhead whose nameplate on the buzzer downstairs just says “Hux.” And Rey knows that her neighbor is without a doubt the sleekest, sexiest woman she’s ever seen. That’s still true now, even with that short robe, pale pink silk that just—It looks so creamy against her pale thighs, and clearly she tied it in a rush, because the bottom is coming open a little and Rey has to fight to keep her eyes fixed on her neighbor’s face. Even though she doesn’t want to. “So…is that a no?” her neighbor says, shifting the small bag of toiletries in her arms. “Um. Yes!” “So I can’t use your shower?” “No! I mean, yes, you can!” “Okay, well, thank you.” She moves to enter the apartment and then hesitates, her bare toes arched against the threshold. “My name is Bren.” “Rey,” she squeaks, watching Bren’s long, slender fingers wrap around the edge of the door as she shuts it. Bren’s eyebrows rise and a bemused smile twitches at the edges of her mouth. Her lips are so pink. It might be Rey’s favorite thing about her.“I assume your shower is in the same place as it is in my apartment?” Bren says, and Rey nods, gesturing towards her bedroom. Her bedroom! Bren is going to have to walk through her bedroom, wearing only a flimsy silk bathrobe and nothing else. Not even shoes. Luckily, Rey manages to keep her cool and her eyes fixed on Bren’s feet as she pads towards the shower. She sits on the bed as Bren moves into the bathroom, shutting the door but not latching it, leaving a sliver of space where Rey can…can see Bren letting her long, flaming hair out of its top knot. It falls in waves down past her shoulder blades, catching the light as she shakes it out and finger-combs the knots. Rey can see the way Bren brings her hands up and starts to slide the robe off her shoulders, and Rey claps a hand over her mouth to muffle the ridiculous whimper that the sight pushes out of her. Bren freezes, turning her head, her robe hanging halfway down her back, caught on her bent arms. “Are you alright, Rey?” she calls, her voice clear in the awkward silence. “I’m fine, yeah, just, uh—stubbed my toe on the edge of the bed,” Rey says, wincing. There’s no way Bren will believe that stupid excuse. “If you’re sure.” “I’m sure.” Rey insists, and Bren drops the robe. Rey tells herself she won’t look. She won’t. She shouldn’t. She does.There’s…a vast expanse of pale, smooth skin. There are freckles dusted along her shoulders, along her arms, even some that Rey can see in the curve of the small of Bren’s back. Fully dressed, Bren looks deceptively thin and willowy, like she’s frail and delicate, but with everything revealed, Rey is stunned to realize that her assumption couldn’t have been more wrong. Bren is all muscle. It’s tightly corded around all of her limbs, wrapping around her back and even her thighs. There is no softness to Bren, except for the curve of her waist, right between her ribs and her hips. Here, there is a small bit of excess flesh, and it looks so tempting that Rey has to sit on her hands to keep her fingers from twitching. The curve of Bren’s backside is slight, but distinctly round, and Rey’s eyes widen when she realizes that Bren is stretching up, raising onto the balls of her feet, the movement pulling all of her muscles up, and Rey feels a surge of fire in her belly when her gaze zeros in on the barest hint of Bren’s pussy, smooth, and…is it...is that...is she...Wet? Then Bren is gone, moving further into the bathroom, out of view unfortunately, and turning on the shower, humming softly as she gets in and pulls the curtain closed. For a few minutes, there’s only the sounds of the shower and Bren’s occasional singing, and the frantic beating of Rey’s heart. She clenches her thighs together and tries not to think about Bren. In her shower. Wet. “Oh, no! Rey?” Bren says, and there’s the sound of the curtain moving as she pokes her head out. “I forgot to bring a towel and a washcloth, do you have extras I can use?” “Um. Yes—let me just.” Rey moves into the bathroom, ducking down below the sink and choosing the least threadbare of her washcloths, stepping closer to the shower and desperately trying to ignore the way her panties are sticking to her skin. “Here you go,” she says, holding the washcloth out towards the shower with her eyes half-closed. “Oh! Sorry, I just started rinsing my hair, do you mind sticking it on the shelf there?” Rey screams. Internally, of course. She can do this. It’s fine. They’re both girls, of course Bren is comfortable with her. She’s probably not even…it’s fine. She draws back the curtain, fully aware that she will need to be able to see inside the shower to get the washcloth on the shelf. However, her eyes stray towards Bren, whose eyes are closed as she tilts her head back under the spray. The water flows down her hair, her hair flows down her shoulders, and the runoff from her hair flows over the curves of her very round breasts. Rey shrieks, throws the washcloth, and dashes out of the bathroom and back onto the bed. This is a seriously messed up situation. Rey should go out to the living room. Cook something. Continue watching terrible sitcoms on her crappy cable. Not sit here and continue fantasizing about how Bren looked in the shower. But what if she needs something else? Rey had better stay here, at least. She grabs a paperback from her side table and scoots up so that she’s sitting against the headboard. And then she pretends to read. She tries to ignore the way that Bren moans and then comments on the smell of her soap. Tries to ignore the way the possibility of Bren smelling like her soap makes her feel. Stop! Think platonic! Rey can’t go forcing her sexuality on every girl that puts herself into a comfortable position with her. When the shower turns off, Rey tries to keep her eyes averted. She does. It’s successful while Bren is standing in front of the shower, out of sight, but then she moves in front of the open door and drops the towel so that she can rub her legs dry and Rey has to put the dang paperback over her eyes to help herself chill. Bren is bent over at the waist, facing away from Rey. The room is too hot, so much steam, not enough cool air, Rey feels faint. From the bathroom, Bren calls back to Rey, “Hey—I forgot to ask. Do you have a separate towel I can use for my hair? It’s so long and thick...it just keeps dripping water all over me.” Yes, Rey can see her hair, Bren flipped it back over her shoulder once she’d finished drying her legs, and the wet, heavy mass of it is now sending rivulets of water down the small of her back, between her cheeks, fat drops falling from the curves of her backside. “Of course! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before you asked!” Bren laughs at this, and the sound is beautiful—high and clear. “How could you be expected to anticipate my every need? You’re only human, after all.” Rey gulps. “Yeah. Yeah.” Bren wraps the towel around her body, tucking it tight and turning. “So...the extra towel?” Rey rushes into the bathroom before realizing that the towels are behind Bren. Naked Bren. Steeling herself, Rey inhales and then moves to squeeze past her. Bren doesn’t make it very easy, simply watching Rey awkwardly try to fit herself in the space between Bren and the wall. Rey holds out the extra towel and watches as Bren rubs her hair down, wraps it and secures it atop her head before reaching into her bag to find her toothbrush and toothpaste.Rey shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other, finally moving behind Bren to sit back on the edge of the bed. “So...where are you going on your date?” Bren pushes her toothbrush to the side of her mouth and rolls her eyes. “It’s a setup by a coworker of mine, we’re meeting at some bar across town.” Rey wrinkles her nose in sympathy. “Blind dates suck.” “They do. I honestly don’t know why Phasma still insists. She knows I’m not going to like any of the girls she picks.” Bren rolls her eyes again and bends down to rinse her mouth and toothbrush. Rey swallows hard. Girls. Phasma sets her up with girls. That means— Bren puts her toothbrush up and lets her hair down, rubbing the towel over it again and shaking it out. She grabs a wide-toothed comb then sits next to Rey on the bed and begins to work it through her hair. “Do you have any plans tonight?” Bren asks, peering at Rey through the curtain of her hair. “If you call cheap cable and ice cream a plan, then sure?” “Sometimes...a night in is nice. You got a roommate?” “Yeah. Finn, my best friend. And his boyfriend, most of the time.” “And they’re not here, tonight?” “No. They went out. Coupley stuff.” Rey picks at a hangnail and tries not to stare at the way Bren’s legs look crossed over each other like that. “Good...” Bren says, and Rey looks up at her, puzzled. But then she sees the look on Bren’s face, and she’s not so confused anymore. In fact, she half-anticipates Bren’s next sentence a split second before she speaks it, her nerves lighting on fire before Bren leans in, before she places her hand on Rey’s thigh, before even opens her mouth to whisper in Rey’s ear. “Strip.” There’s a tense moment where Rey isn’t sure if she’s going to actually do it or not, and then she looks up at Bren, sees that arched eyebrow, and decides. Her hands are shaking as she stands and pulls her yoga pants down, stepping out of them and standing in her t-shirt and panties. “It’s only fair, you know. You’ve seen plenty of me. I’d like to see what you’re hiding under those clothes,” Bren says, her eyes glinting as Rey grips the hem of her shirt. In one smooth (ish) movement, she’s pulled it over her head, and she’s standing in front of Bren in just her white cotton panties. She moves to hook her thumbs in the waistband, but Bren makes a noise of protest in the back of her throat and Rey freezes. “I changed my mind,” Bren says, her eyes fixed on the swell of Rey’s pubic mound through the fabric. “I like these.” She brings a finger closer to trace the seam between Rey’s pussy lips, and the white fabric darkens with her wetness almost immediately. “Yes, these are perfect.” Rey trembles under her touch, slight though it is. Bren lingers there, her finger still pressed to Rey’s panties for a few seconds before she slides off the bed and onto her knees, pulling Rey’s thighs apart and pressing her face between them. Bren’s mouth opens and Rey almost collapses against her face as her tongue presses, hot and wet, against her panties, licking and sucking firmly. In a few short moments, Rey’s really collapsing, her knees buckling as Bren pushes the fabric of her underwear aside and begins sucking at each of her lips in turn. Bren pulls away, pushing Rey around and against the bed while trying her best to keep her mouth on Rey’s pussy. Rey whines and lifts herself onto the bed, scrambling backward until Bren decides she’s gone far enough, anchoring her in place with two hands on Rey’s thighs. Then she lifts Rey’s hips, sliding her panties down, and dives back in. Rey is trembling, gasping and struggling between throwing her head back and lifting up so she can watch Bren working between her legs. Bren spreads Rey’s legs wide, brushing her thumbs against either side of Rey’s opening. She doesn’t penetrate, just teases, circling and gathering the wetness seeping out. She does, however, find the sweet spot against the right side of Rey’s clit, focusing her attention when Rey begins to whimper and breathe a little harder. Her tongue has just the right amount of pressure, swirling around and around as Rey begins to climb towards her orgasm. Impressively, Bren doesn’t falter once, not even as time passes and Rey begins to rock her hips into Bren’s face. As Rey starts clenching, tensing up and getting close, Bren moves one of her thumbs closer, sliding it just inside Rey’s pussy and rubbing gentle circles around the inside of her entrance. Rey’s never—the novelty of the stimulation pushes her off the edge and she’s coming with a guttural, surprised noise, gasping and clutching at the sheets, arching her back. Her heels dig into the bed and she lifts her hips, crying out when Bren’s mouth remains firmly attached to her pussy, licking her through the orgasm, her thumb keeping up the steady rhythm of circles despite Rey’s frantic movements. “Ah—Bren! I’m, I can’t—” And Bren’s eyes flick towards her, green burning into hazel, and with a wide, slow grin, she continues to lick, occasionally sucking softly on the skin surrounding Rey’s clit. The warm, wet pressure sends little aftershocks through Rey’s hips, extending her orgasm almost painfully, until finally, finally, Rey relaxes against the bed and Bren removes her mouth. Bren smiles and crawls her way up Rey’s body, kissing the dip near her hipbone, licking a stripe over her soft belly, sucking the delicate skin at the side of her breast. She trails soft kisses up Rey’s neck, over her jaw, pausing before she gets to Rey’s lips. And Rey. Rey is panting, desperate to kiss Bren, to feel those pink lips against hers, to taste her mouth. She can’t breathe as Bren nuzzles their noses together. And then there’s the kiss. Bren presses her lips to Rey’s so softly, taking as much care here as she had with the rest of her body. Finally, she opens her mouth and licks Rey’s bottom lip, and Rey is delighted to find that she can taste herself on Bren’s tongue, can taste the flavor of both of them mingled together. Bren’s body is pressed against hers, only a towel separating them as they explore each other. In a brave moment, Rey untucks the towel and slides it open, baring all of Bren’s skin to her. It’s even more delicious now that Rey is allowed to touch instead of sneaking glances and guilty peeks. “Aren’t you late to your date?” Rey breathes, her eyes closed as she dances her fingers down Bren’s side towards her hips. “I don’t have a date,” Bren says, bringing her hands up to Rey’s face and tilting her head to kiss Rey again. But Rey pulls away, her eyes flying open. “You don’t have a date? Is your shower even broken?” “Nope,” Bren says, her face serious. “Then—what—did you—”“Yes, I invited myself into your home and seduced you.” For a second, Rey is appalled and flattered at the same time. They didn’t even know each other! How could Bren have—she intentionally!—and all the naked stuff. Was on purpose. She let Rey feel like a creep for looking, when Rey was meant to look the whole time. Bren offered herself up and then pounced when Rey refused to take the bait because she was a decent human being! And then she starts thinking about all the times she’s run into Bren in the hallways, dressed in her perfect business attire. Sometimes she’d be in sleek, figure-hugging dresses, sometimes pencils skirts with a blouse tucked in, unbuttoned just enough that Rey could see the creamy skin of her cleavage. Rey’s favorite days are the ones where she passes Bren in a suit—all clean lines and harsh angles, her hair inevitably pulled up in a neat bun or even more impressively, some sort of French twist that makes her look so elegant. She thinks of how much time she’s spent wishing she could work up the courage to talk to Bren, but knowing she never would. A woman that obviously powerful and put together would never go for Rey. Rey is on the opposite end of the spectrum. As an artist, she favors messy, sprawling things. She wears a lot of paint-flecked overalls, multi-colored ponytail holders, and almost always has some sort of fresh flower in her hair (Finn works at Poe’s flower shop, bless them both). When she’s alone, she eats too much ice cream and forgets to work out; her body is nothing like Bren’s clean, trim lines. Rey’s body is all softness and curves, a roundness to her belly she can’t quite get rid of, no matter how many yoga videos she watches. Her hair is nearly always messy, she never wears makeup, and has never owned a pair of heels or anything resembling a suit in her life. Rey isn’t ashamed of herself, not by any stretch of the imagination. But Bren is so different from her, so appealingly put together. How can they possibly ever even be friends?But Rey can also remember a few moments ago when Bren kissed her belly. When she held Rey’s thighs down, when she grinned and refused to pull her mouth away from Rey. Maybe the appeal that Bren holds for Rey…is the same sort of appeal that Rey holds for Bren?“What’s going on in there? You look like you’re thinking much too hard about this.” “I…” Rey struggles to gather her thoughts, to offer some sort of...summary. “Why?” “Have you ever looked at yourself? You’re terribly endearing, always covered in paint and such. But you seem strong, sturdier than you let on. And...I’ve wanted to bury my face between your thighs since you wore those obscenely small shorts during the summer when it was warm out.” Rey flushes red at this, and because she’s naked and trapped under Bren, she knows that there’s no way to hide the way the flush makes its way down her chest as well. Sure enough, Bren’s eyes widen and she traces the hot, red skin with a careful finger. “You’re so beautiful, you don’t even realize it, do you? Wild, enchanting. Like a climbing rose plant. You fairy queen, with your perpetual crown of flowers and sunny smile.” Bren smiles a little, trailing her fingers down Rey’s chest, circling a flushed nipple gently. “But you’re…you’re so...clean.” Rey gasps, distracted by Bren, who is now plucking at the nipple between her fingers. “And that’s not fair—I haven’t—it’s your turn!” Bren laughs and presses a wet kiss to Rey’s neck. “I am a rather clean person, and you do have a lot of hair sitting in your drain right now. But I suppose our differences are the things that intrigue me most about you.”She leans in to nibble at the shell of Rey’s ear as she whispers, “And I’d love it if you’d like to reciprocate, certainly.” Rey is scrambling out from under Bren instantly, pulling her towel away as well. The towel gets pitched over the side of the bed and then she’s pulling Bren towards her, over her, settling her knees next to her ears and tugging her thighs down, down, until she can reach—As she brings her mouth to Bren’s smooth skin, Bren jerks a little, and then chuckles. “Sorry, not having the hair is...it’s more sensitive.” Rey presses a tender kiss to Bren’s clit before pulling away to ask, “Is it recent?” “No—oh, oh—it’s a hygiene preference of mine but—ah—I definitely don’t do this enough to have gotten used to the extr—AH—sensation.” Rey smirks, smooths her hands soothingly up and down Bren’s thighs. She’s enjoying this languid exploration. Bren is much more sensitive than she is, everything Rey does has her clenching and whining. The best reaction Rey pulls out of her is a shriek, high and shockingly wild, when Rey nips at one of her thick outer lips. Emboldened by the reaction, she does it again, this time taking it between her teeth and pulling it—gently, of course—and then bringing the pad of her finger up so that she can rub at Bren’s clit. Bren loses it. She had been holding onto the headboard until now, but as soon as Rey bites into her, she clamps both hands into Rey’s hair and her hips jerk. Rey dips her finger into Bren’s opening, gathering the wetness there and spreading it over her clit to make her strokes smoother. Then she begins to nibble around Bren’s pussy—small bites to the juncture of her thighs, the top of her pubic mound, the skin just below her opening. Each drives Bren a little more wild, and in no time at all (really, no time, that was fast, Rey thinks), Rey is surprised to feel Bren tensing and groaning as she comes. But her moans don’t stop, and so Rey doesn’t either, and she’s surprised when Bren clenches and cries out once more, shaking and fisting her hands into Rey’s hair harder. Hoping to help draw out the orgasm, Rey bites, sinking her teeth into Bren’s thigh, and it works—Bren screams, she’s practically bouncing on her knees now, and Rey’s fingers are just sliding vaguely around her clit while Bren rides this out. When Bren finally relaxes, she swings a shaky leg over to dismount Rey’s face and then she’s attacking Rey, kissing her with teeth and tongue and vicious fervor. Her hands clutch at Rey—her hips, her breasts, her shoulders, and then she’s sliding her hands down and breathing in Rey’s ear as she asks, breathlessly, “Can you—on the inside?” Rey nods, whining already as Bren’s fingers circle through the fresh wetness at her opening, one finger sliding in, reaching in, feeling and rubbing before Bren withdraws and re-enters with two this time. With two, her search is more successful, and she’s found the spot inside of Rey that has her eyes flying open, her hands clawing at Bren’s shoulder. Bren rubs the two fingers against the spot, grinning deviously as she rises to her knees and brings two fingers from her other hand up to Rey’s mouth. Rey opens and takes them in without question, sucking and swirling her tongue around and between them. Satisfied, Bren pulls them out and brings them down to stroke against Rey’s clit, moving around until Rey’s pussy contracts around her fingers once or twice. From there it’s easy work, just a matter of consistent stimulation. Bren rubs with both hands and swallows Rey’s keening cries with rough kisses. When Rey’s breathing speeds up and she fists her hands in the sheets again, Bren trails her way down to suck at one of Rey’s nipples, slowly speeding both of her hands up, pressing a little harder every time Rey gasps or yelps. This orgasm is harder for Rey to chase; Bren has to coax it out of her with firm pressure inside her pussy and fast, slick circles around her clit, her mouth at Rey’s breast, licking and sucking. When Rey finally comes, her whole body burns with the pleasure of it. Bren’s murmuring encouragements against her skin, helping her ride the waves until they’ve finally subsided. Bren moves to flop onto the bed to the side of Rey, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning in close once more. Bren kisses her, languorously, both of them sated and glowing with a thin sheen of sweat. This is the most satisfied Rey has felt in…a long time. Bren settles back against her side, curling up against Rey even though she’s definitely the taller one. Rey should be curled against her. But the warmth is nice, and Rey closes her eyes, stroking at Bren’s damp hair. It’s peaceful and quiet. That is, until her stomach growls. Rey flushes as Bren props herself up and laughs at Rey’s bashful expression. “Should we order in? My treat,” Bren says, and Rey would protest, on a better day, when she hasn’t just had two mind-blowing orgasms and the craziest experience of her life. As it is, she barely has the strength to nod properly, and Bren laughs again, snuggling her closer and kissing her cheek. Is this her life? Rey is a little too dizzy at the moment to know for sure. If it’s a dream, she can’t even bring herself to regret it.
10193333	Mickey birthday	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher, Iggy Milkovich, Mandy Milkovich", "Fandom": "Shameless (US)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by KissMyFrogPhotography", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "414", "Additional Tags": "Happy, Sweet Mickey, Happy birthday mickey", "Relationship": "Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Between Ian & Mickey", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Mickey's never told Ian his birthday. So how the other man found out was definitely a shocker. It Had to be his sister's doing. That was the only way Ian could've known. "You don't have to do this." said Mickey looking at his boyfriend."Dude, it's your birthday, of course we're doing something, okay?" "Fine. But no fucking party". "No people alright? Just us.That's what you want, right?" smiled Ian looking at his boyfriend while they walked to the Beach ."Yes, just us please"Ian laughed. "Okay, okay just us." He kept on walking. "The fuck are we going? We left our apartment like an hour ago." Complained Mickey trying to keep up with his boyfriend. "Long limbed fucker." He muttered to himself. It was on a hot summer day in August. His birthday was on the 10th and the weather was just perfect. Mickey always loved summer days of Chicago and being outside. He loved going to the beach when it was nice like this. Their time was however cut short once they hit the sandy beach of Chicago. "Happy Birthday!" Everyone shouted taking Mickey by surprise. It was just his brother Iggy and his sister Mandy rushing up to hug him. "Really Ian"? smiled Mickey despite wanting it to come out as a glare. "I know you wanted it to be just be us but your sister kinda shown up." Ian explains. "It was supposed to be just her, but then Iggy wanted to come too. Hope you don't mind?" Ian asked looking unsure for a minute.""Nah," Mickey reassures. "'Tis perfect.""Thanks Mick." said Ian as Mickey pulled him closer for a kiss. They kissed slow and sweet but were interrupted by Mandy when she smiled and took what she considered to be a perfect picture of Chicago in the background, with the two boys kissing. It was indeed a perfect birthday for Mickey. Sorrunded by his favorite people ever. There were a few gifts and of course a pack of smokes and not forgetting some great weed Ian had gotten from Lip.Mickey didn't really do birthdays, but this one was one for the books. Later that night after their love making, it became even more perfect. When Mandy sent him the photo she took, he used that for his background wallpaper. Ian was snuggled next to him, his arms wrapped around his side and his head on Mickey's chest. Yep, definitely a great ending to a great day.
10192247	Marzo blanco	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Kija (Akatsuki no Yona), Happy Hungry Bunch, Son Hak, Shin-Ah (Akatsuki no Yona)", "Fandom": "Akatsuki no Yona \| Yona of the Dawn", "Language": "Español", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by narutinachan", "chapters": "8/8", "completed": "2017-04-07", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "3,465", "Additional Tags": "Manga Spoilers", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Actividades del foro El feliz grupo de hambrientos", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Hasta que no había salido de su querida aldea, Kija no había llegado a plantearse hasta qué punto se podría llegar a considerar que había vivido encerrado, o al menos completamente aislado del mundo.Él había creído que lo que leía en los libros y las ilustraciones que había en ellos eran suficientes para comprender el mundo. Pero ahora, tras haber salido de allí junto con su maestra, de haber conocido a tanta gente diferente, de haber visitado pueblos con tan variados estilos de vida y visto en persona esos paisajes que hasta ahora solo había podido imaginar…Dudaba que pudiera volver a vivir recluido en su pequeña aldea, por mucho que la amara a ella y a sus gentes, porque ahora que había saboreado la libertad solo ansiaba seguir descubriendo más cosas, personas y lugares junto a sus nuevos compañeros, con su familia.No cambiaría este sentimiento por nada… Ahora entendía mejor a Jae-ha. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Kija ya había perdido la cuenta del número de veces que le habían llegado a llamar “monstruo”. Semejante palabra tan vulgar…Él no era un monstruo, era un orgulloso guerrero dragón, perteneciente a una estirpe ininterrumpida que había transmitido la pura y sagrada sangre del dragón blanco durante siglos, milenios.Sin embargo el resto del mundo parecía haber olvidado la grandeza de los guerreros dragones, del mismísimo Hiryuu, denigrándoles hasta el punto de que no eran considerados más que un mito.Kija se encargaría de recordárselo, de hacer que reconocieran su existencia. Ya no podrían seguir calificándoles como mitos cuando sintieran el poder de la noble garra de dragón en sus propias carnes.Ellos estaban aquí, eran reales, y habían resurgido para devolver al reino su gloria pasada, para hacerles recuperar la fe en la guía de los dioses dragones.Con sus hermanos y su maestra a su lado, Kija estaba seguro de poder conseguirlo. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- La primera palabra que se le vino a la cabeza a Hak para describir a Hakuryuu cuando le conoció fue “pulcritud”.Con su pelo blanco perfectamente peinado, sus ojos azules como un cielo despejado con un brillo prístino, su túnica inmaculada perfectamente planchada. Todo en él te hacía pensar en pureza y perfección.Claro que esa fue solo su primera impresión. Poco después al pensar en Hakuryuu se le venían a la mente un montón de otras palabras, ciertamente más malas que buenas.Cuando le había jurado lealtad a Yona, sin apenas conocerla, le había parecido un fanático superficial. Cuando había tratado de comprarle por dinero un iluso prepotente. Cuando vio cómo dependía de su abuela un niño mimado y consentido. Tras verle combatir incluso violento e impulsivo.Sin embargo a pesar de todo, aunque se resistiera a reconocerlo, nunca le había abandonado ese trasfondo de pulcritud y pureza.Esto se veía en su forma de tratar de mantenerse lo más limpio posible a pesar de estar viajando por los caminos, pero también en sus firmes principios que no habían vacilado tras ser testigo de la crueldad del mundo real, en su inquebrantable lealtad hacia su maestra que ahora era claramente genuina y no fruto de su fe ciega en Hiryuu, en su persistencia en confraternizar con los otros dragones y aliviar sus penas más allá de lo que sus lazos de sangre podrían llegar a exigir, en haber aceptado también a Hak y a Yun como miembros del grupo a pesar de sus reticencias iniciales, en su arrojo al ser siempre el primero en saltar al campo de batalla para proteger a los demás…Con el paso del tiempo Hakuryuu, a pesar de sus defectos, había demostrado tener un alma pulcra y prístina, que contra todo pronóstico nunca había perdido esa pureza con la que había salido de su aldea.Tal vez fue por eso, unido al hecho de que había sido testigo directo de su transformación gradual, que Hak no se había dado cuenta de hasta qué punto el dragón blanco también había cambiado, pero este hecho se le hizo patente cuando se reencontró con él tras resolver el conflicto con Xing.Kija estaba hecho un completo desastre. Su pelo estaba grasiento y despeinado, su ropa rasgada y polvorienta, su piel manchada de sangre y suciedad. Sin embargo en ningún momento pareció preocuparse por su aspecto en su emotivo reencuentro, limitándose a abrazar a todos con lágrimas de obvia felicidad derramándose de sus ojos y mocos goteando de su nariz.Ahora mismo, a simple vista, nadie definiría a Hakuryuu como pulcro. La imagen de perfección y pureza que antes le había representado se había corrompido.Sin embargo, si alguien le preguntaba a Hak, él seguiría describiéndole como alguien escrupulosamente pulcro. ¿Por qué? Pues porque, aunque el cuerpo del dragón blanco se hubiera manchado de suciedad, siempre se las había arreglado para mantener su alma completamente pura y libre de toda malicia.Esa era la verdadera pulcritud de Kija. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- —¡No consentiré semejante falta de respeto hacia nuestra princesa!Shin-ah jadeó sorprendido por el repentino grito del dragón blanco que estaba sentado a su lado mientras comían.Kija y Hak se habían enzarzado en una nueva discusión cuyo motivo no alcanzaba a entender.Ya llevaba un par de semanas viajando con este dispar grupo que le había aceptado sin reparos, sin embargo todavía no había podido habituarse a esto… A los gritos y ruidos repentinos.Se había acostumbrado tanto al constante silencio mientras vivía solo en las cuevas que ahora no podía evitar sobresaltarse con cada pequeña cosa…—¡He dicho que ya basta! —gritó Kija.Shin-ah jadeó otra vez. Sin embargo esta vez debió ser más audiblemente porque el dragón blanco se percató de su sobresalto y añadió esta vez con tono suave:—Discúlpame, Shin-ah. ¿Te he asustado? —le preguntó, pareciendo realmente preocupado.Shin-ah se limitó a asentir levemente en respuesta y retomar su comida. Afortunadamente esta pareció ser respuesta suficiente para su compañero, porque tras disculparse otro par de veces aprovechó la ocasión para retomar el relato de la leyenda de los cuatro dragones que había insistido que debía contarle con todo detalle.El dragón azul le escuchó con atención ya que, aunque en realidad no tuviera interés en saber sobre el origen de su poder maldito, la forma de narrar la historia de Kija era tan fascinante, con ese tono solemne y casi reverencial. Extrañamente oírle hablar así conseguía relajarle…—¡Ah! —exclamó el dragón blanco repentinamente a la vez que comenzaba a agitar los brazos frenéticamente.Shin-ah se volvió a sobresaltar tanto que casi grita él también, pero al instante después dirigió su mano a la empuñadura de su espada en un acto reflejo. ¿Un enemigo?—¡Una araña! ¡Una araña! ¡Quitádmela! ¡Quitádmela! —siguió gritando Kija, pareciendo a punto de tener un ataque de pánico.Shin-ah ladeó la cabeza confundido. ¿Una araña? ¿Por qué hacía tanto escándalo por eso? No lo entendía. Sin embargo Ao se encargó de resolver la situación rápidamente saltando al regazo de Kija para comerse tranquilamente la pequeña araña de la discordia.Se volvió a hacer el silencio. El cuerpo de Shin-ah se relajó y apartó la mano de su espada. Al parecer ya…—¡Se la ha comido! —exclamó Kija a voz en grito, pareciendo esta vez en estado de shock.Shin-ah se volvió a sobresaltar y se preparó para más gritos mientras Yun le decía a su compañero que eso no era para tanto. Sin embargo Kija volvió a sorprenderle cuando con total tranquilidad procedió a dar un discurso sobre por qué comer insectos no podía ser sano.Shin-ah no pudo más que volver a ladear la cabeza confundido.Semejante habilidad para cambiar su tono de voz en un instante… Tan aterradora. ¿Estaban seguros de que el poder de Hakuryuu residía en su brazo y no en su garganta? Pero, aún más importante… ¿Podría llegar a acostumbrarse alguna vez a ello?—¡Esa comida es mía!Nuevo sobresalto.Necesitaba entrenamiento intensivo para superar esto. Urgentemente. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Kija siempre había visto su poder de Hakuryuu como algo divino, un regalo de los cielos, un legado antiquísimo, un honor que le había sido concedido, su mayor tesoro y virtud.No fue hasta que la conoció a ella, a su maestra destinada, y salió al mundo exterior que se percató de que su poder traía consigo una serie de inconvenientes que hasta ese momento, de forma consciente o inconsciente, había decidido ignorar…El poder de Hakuryuu era peligroso.Había estado practicando a utilizar su poder en su aldea. Aunque no lo hubiera empleado contra otros seres humanos, había creído ser consciente de su propia fuerza. Pero contenerse en las batallas para no matar le estaba resultando más difícil de lo que jamás había esperado.Con solo un pequeño empujón sus enemigos salían despedidos a varios metros de distancia, con tan solo un ligero puñetazo jadeaban escupiendo sangre, con el más leve arañazo su carne se rasgaba como si de una fina tela se tratara…¿Los humanos siempre habían sido tan frágiles?Kija jamás lo reconocería, pero con el paso del tiempo fue creciendo dentro de él un terrible temor. El temor de terminar lastimando a otros involuntariamente, o incluso de matar.¿Qué clase de guerrero dragón sería si terminara dañando a aquellos que debería proteger?Fueron esos pensamientos los que, antes de darse cuenta, le llevaron a tener especial precaución con su garra cuando estaba cerca de otros, sobre todo de ella.Sin embargo su princesa Yona, tan amable y tan valiente como era ella, siempre le trataba como si fuera una persona normal, como si en realidad fuera inofensivo, al igual que al resto de sus hermanos.Ella se agarraba a su garra de dragón tan confiadamente como si de una mano humana se tratara, y mientras él no podía evitar tensarse ligeramente por el temor de lastimarla ella siempre le sonreía tan cálidamente y apretaba su agarre, casi como si fuera consciente de sus más profundos temores y pretendiera disiparlos.Su consideración, su confianza ciega en él, emocionaba tanto a Kija hasta el punto que creía que se le saltarían las lágrimas.Que los dioses dragones le perdonaran, pero en esas ocasiones daría lo que fuera por tener una inofensiva mano humana en vez de una peligrosa garra de dragón para ser libre de estrechar a la persona que más amaba entre sus brazos sin arriesgarse a despedazarla en el proceso si se dejaba llevar demasiado.Jamás había creído que podría llegar a considerar su poder divino, del que siempre había estado tan orgulloso, una maldición. Pero en esas ocasiones no podía evitarlo, aunque se odiara a sí mismo por albergar tales sentimientos.Al parecer era cierto que cada poder de dragón conllevaba pagar un precio, renunciar a algo, y la condena de Hakuryuu era no poder abandonarse libremente a la calidez de un abrazo.Porque aunque ellos le trataran como si fuera inofensivo, y él se esforzara en comportarse como tal, en realidad no lo era. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Para Kija el inicio había sido el momento en el que la conoció a ella, a su maestra destinada.Hasta entonces había tenido una vida vacía, sin rumbo ni un propósito más allá de ser el nuevo Hakuryuu encargado de conservar y transmitir la noble sangre del dragón blanco a la siguiente generación.Todo cambió el día que su anhelada estrella roja por fin vino en su busca para señalarle el camino.A partir de entonces, a pesar de las dificultades y los malos momentos, su vida se había llenado de calidez y de luz.Kija pudo servir a su maestra de pelo carmesí, la heredera de la voluntad de Hiryuu. Conoció a sus hermanos dragones y a algunos otros compañeros con los que logró formar una dispar pero bien avenida familia. Junto a ellos viajó por un montón de lugares, conoció a otro sin número de personas, luchó en mil batallas, derramó un sinfín de lágrimas, también rió hasta quedarse sin aliento tantas veces…En resumen, había vivido la vida intensamente y tratando de no dejar lugar a los remordimientos. Todo fue tan gratificante…Hasta que, más pronto de lo que nadie había deseado, el final llegó.Su luz, su estrella roja, se apagó.Ella yacía inerte en su lecho de muerte, rodeada por todos aquellos que lamentaban su pérdida, incluidos sus guerreros dragones.Shin-ah se había vuelto a poner su máscara después de años sin hacerlo, derramando lágrimas silenciosas.Jae-ha, tan inquieto como había sido siempre, llevaba horas sin moverse del sitio con una expresión de angustia, casi como si hubiera cadenas invisibles conteniéndole en el sitio.Zeno tenía una expresión perfectamente serena, sin embargo el brillo de sus ojos azules se había apagado. Ahora realmente parecía un muerto en vida.Kija no podía parar de llorar. Por la pérdida de su maestra, por el dolor de sus hermanos y el suyo propio, por todo lo que había quedado por hacer y ahora sin ella parecía no tener sentido continuarlo.—¿Por qué ha tenido que terminar así? —se lamentó Kija.—Todo inicio conlleva un final. De otro modo, los inicios perderían todo su sentido. —Era irónico que el que le hubiera respondido con voz neutra hubiera sido precisamente Zeno, el dragón inmortal, aquel sin un final a la vista—. ¿Habrías preferido que no hubiera habido un inicio?Kija se estremeció.¿Sin inicio? ¿No haberla conocido?Si no lo hubiera hecho tal vez ahora no estaría sufriendo tanto, pero…—Nunca —espetó Kija determinado, secundado por los otros dragones.—En ese caso, honrémosla y démosla en final que merece —concluyó Zeno, y todos asintieron.Los cuatro dragones lloraron pensando en su maes… No, en su preciada amiga que ya no se volvería a mover, sabiendo que lo hacían por el amor sincero que la habían profesado y no solo por la sangre de dragón que corría por sus venas.Se abrazaron entre ellos buscando consuelo.Aún así, Kija seguía sin poder dejar de preguntarse: “¿Por qué ha tenido que terminar?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Cuando Jae-ha se cayó del tejado para toparse de frente con el Hakuryuu que había estado tratando de evitar, por un momento pensó que se le acababa de aparecer un ángel de las nieves.El blanco de su pelo y su túnica, su piel translúcida, su mirada clara… Todo le recordaba a la pura y blanca nieve.Sin embargo su primera impresión no pudo ser más lejos de la realidad.Kija era fuego.Su mirada ardía tanto que quemaba, sus creencias y convicciones estaban gravadas a fuego en su alma, al combatir arrasaba a sus enemigos como un incendio descontrolado…Jae-ha tenía la impresión de que si se descuidaba por un segundo sería consumido por el fuego de este engañoso ángel de nieve.Aunque a veces se encontraba pensando que, si podía seguir contemplando tan hermoso contraste, no le importaría ser consumido por sus llamas blancas.Después de todo, él vivía para admirar la belleza. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- La primera vez que Kija tuvo esa sensación fue cuando él y sus hermanos se enfermaron.Zeno les estaba cuidando y, cuando se inclinó sobre él con una sonrisa tierna para ponerle un paño húmedo sobre la frente, algo se removió dentro de él. Esta sensación…—Zeno, por algún motivo me resultas nostálgico.Esas palabras salieron de su boca sin ni siquiera pensarlo, tal vez por la fiebre.Juraría que Zeno se tensó durante un segundo, aunque también podría haber sido su imaginación, antes de bromear al respecto infantilmente como era su costumbre.Tal vez le habría dedicado otro pensamiento a esa extraña sensación si no hubiera estado delirando por la fiebre, pero en ese momento no pudo evitar simplemente quedarse dormido.Las revelaciones posteriores sobre la verdadera identidad de Zeno y sus poderes solo contribuyeron a que esa sensación que había tenido quedara en el olvido.Sin embargo volvió a pensar en ello cuando esa sensación de nostalgia que le provocaba Zeno se siguió repitiendo en los momentos más inesperados.Cuando le veía contemplar las estrellas con una mirada lejana y serena, cuando le sonreía a Shin-ah tiernamente tras alguno de sus comentarios inocentes, nuevamente cuando le veía arropar a alguien con una manta como haría un padre con sus hijos, o cuando hacía un comentario especialmente profundo dejando traslucir su verdadera edad.Todas esas veces Kija percibía algo. A veces creía estar a punto de descubrir qué era, de recordar algo importante. Sin embargo en esas ocasiones, ya fuera a propósito o no, Zeno siempre le desconcentraba dirigiéndole alguno de sus bizarros comentarios o bromas y esa sensación se le escurría entre los dedos.Sin embargo el eco de esa sensación, la urgencia de que era algo que debía recordar, nunca le abandonaba. Era tan frustrante.Una mañana Kija se despertó sobresaltado a la vez que extendía su garra de dragón al frente inconscientemente, como si quisiera alcanzar algo. Pero, ¿el qué?Imágenes fugaces de su reciente sueño volvieron a su mente. Una sonrisa gentil, la sensación de alguien vistiéndole suavemente, unas palabras susurradas que no alcanzaba a recordar…Esa persona de su sueño. ¿Quién era? ¿Por qué no podía recordar?Ante su sentimiento de impotencia Kija solo pudo levantarse y salir de la tienda de campaña, con el objetivo de despejar su mente.Apenas estaba amaneciendo, el sol ni siquiera había comenzado a asomarse por el horizonte.Fue entonces cuando lo vio. Se trataba de Zeno, el cual estaba escalando un árbol torpemente.Kija se puso nervioso. ¿Por qué su hermano tenía que hacer siempre cosas tan imprudentes sin necesidad? Por mucho que fuera inmortal no podía evitar preocuparse, así que le siguió con la intención de hacerle bajar y regañarle por ello.Sin embargo cuando le alcanzó y le vio sentado sobre una rama despreocupadamente contemplando el cielo con expresión serena le golpeó un fuerte deja-vu que esta vez le fue imposible pasar por alto.De repente Kija se sintió mucho más pequeño, Zeno pasó a tener una ropa sucia y desgastada y en el cielo brillaba una cálida estrella carmesí que le llamaba. —Finalmente ha nacido… nuestra luz de fuego. La visión se desvaneció tan rápido como había aparecido, dejándole frente al Zeno actual, que vestía su ropa nueva en vez de harapos, el cual en algún momento se había girado a mirarle con una expresión de clara preocupación.—Hakuryuu, ¿te encuentras bien?Kija asintió en un acto reflejo, aunque en realidad se sentía un poco abrumado por las imágenes y sonidos que no dejaban de llegar a su mente, casi como si estos se hubieran desbordado sin control ahora que las puertas de sus recuerdos se habían abierto.—¿Seguro? —insistió Zeno, no pareciendo muy convencido—. Hakuryuu está pálido y parece desorientado, como si tuviera la cabeza en otra parte.Ciertamente la tenía en otra parte, más concretamente varios años en el pasado cuando había conocido a un hombre extraño pero que a la vez le resultaba familiar. Un encuentro que no sabía cómo había podido llegar a olvidar.El tiempo transcurrido no era una escusa. No para él.—¿No tendrás fiebre? —inquirió el dragón amarillo, obviamente cada vez más preocupado por su falta de reacción.Zeno extendió la mano, para tocarle la frente y comprobarlo, pero él la interceptó a medio camino agarrándola con su mano humana y apretándola con fuerza, ganándose ahora una mirada de confusión de su compañero.La verdad era que Kija tenía miedo de que los recuerdos que acababa de recobrar se volvieran a desvanecer. Aunque pudiera parecer infantil, tenía la sensación de que mientras no dejara ir a Zeno sus recuerdos tampoco lo harían. Pero aún así necesitaba una confirmación.—Eras tú —se las arregló para hablar finalmente Kija. Aunque había sonado más como una acusación.Zeno no pudo más que ladear la cabeza confundido.—Sí, es Zeno. ¿Qué pasa con Zeno, Hakuryuu? —le preguntó.Kija no sabía cómo poner en palabras todas las emociones que estaban bullendo en su interior: alegría, frustración, confusión, nostalgia… Finalmente solo dijo:—Lo he recordado, el día en el que la estrella roja descendió.Zeno parpadeó conmocionado, pero luego esbozó una sonrisa melancólica y resignada y miró a su alrededor, claramente percatándose ahora también de las similitudes con aquella situación.—Cierto, Zeno tendría que habérselo imaginado —admitió el rubio, soltando un leve suspiro—. Entonces, ¿hay algo que Hakuryuu quiera decirle a Zeno al respecto?Esta vez fue Kija el que parpadeó confundido, pero pronto su expresión se tornó en una de determinación para luego decir con tono solemne:—Solo que siento mucho haberte olvidado, hermano. Pero no volverá a pasar, lo juro.Zeno pareció desconcertado por su declaración. Por un momento pareció como si quisiera decirle algo, pero finalmente se limitó a soltar una carcajada incrédula y asentir en conformidad.Después de eso ya no fueron necesarias más palabras entre ellos y simplemente contemplaron el amanecer en un cómodo silencio.Aunque en todo ese tiempo Kija nunca dejó ir la mano de Zeno.
10192310	A Place For Everything	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton \"Baz\" Pitch, Penelope Bunce", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by catsandenbyluck", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "1,690", "Additional Tags": "What even is this drabble?, so cheesy, They are so in love, I CAN'T STOP IT, Domestic Drabbles, Part 8, A Place For Everything, SnowBaz, carry on, THE JEANS, THEY RETURN", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Tyrannus Basilton \"Baz\" Pitch/Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton \"Baz\" Pitch & Simon Snow", "Series": "Domestic Drabbles", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl - Rainbow Rowell", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Simon It took a few conversations with Penny for me to start to notice.First, it had been a jumper. “ Simon ,” Penny had said, as she was staring me down from across the sofa. “ Did you get a new jumper?” I had glanced down at my chest, and then at her. “ Oh, this? No, it’s Baz’s. He left it in the hamper.” She didn’t reply at the time; just raised an eyebrow and then made a disgusted face. And then there was a mug. “Simon.” Penny had been waving a mug around in my face. “Where did this cup come from?” I had caught her wrist and pulled the mug from her hand. “That’s Baz’s. He refuses to drink out anything else.” She hadn’t said anything again; just glared at me. And now it’s a book. Or three.Penny’s yelling at me from across the flat. “Simon, I swear on Crowley and Morgana and all that is magick that I’m going to start spelling all of your books into Oblivion if I find another one laying out!”I step out of my room and glare at her. She has three books in her hands, and if I didn’t know her better, I would think that she’s about to throw them.“Penny,” I say. “Those are Baz’s books. It’s not my fault!”Penny furrows her eyebrows. She starts looking at each book individually, reading the title and glancing over the back. Then she sighs.“I believe you,” she says. “These don’t seem like the types of books you read.”“Hey, what is that supposed to mean?”She sighs again. “Simon, have you noticed how Baz has so much stuff here?”I arch an eyebrow at her. “What do you mean?”She glances around, then walks over to the bookshelf, placing the pile of books on top of it. She walks back over to the sofa and sits down, motioning for me to sit beside her.“His stuff is everywhere,” she says after I get comfortable. She starts counting on her fingers. “His jumpers in your laundry hamper, his tea cups in the cupboards, his books all over the bloody place, and— Simon, are you wearing his jeans?”I look down at my legs, even though I already know that I am wearing Baz’sjeans. I furrow my eyebrows and look back at her.“They’re comfortable,” I say. “What’s your point?”She shrugs. “It just feels like he lives here.”I raise an eyebrow at her. “Is that bad?”“No, not really. I mean, he cleans more than we do.”I nod in agreement.“Is that okay with you, though?” Penny asks.“Is what okay with me?”“That Baz’s practically lives here?”“Should it not be okay with me?”Penny sighs. “That’s up to you, Simon.”I grin at her. “Penny, Baz and I lived together for 8 years. It’s not weird at all. It’s really not any different.”“Except for the dating,” Penny says.I laugh. “Except for the dating.”“And the flirting. And the snogging. And the clothes-sharing. And the staying-up until 3am doing whatever it is you guys do in there.”I roll my eyes. “I’ve told you before, Penny. We watch a lot of movies.”“Right. Sure.”I roll my eyes again, more dramatic this time.“Look,” she says, and her face is suddenly serious. “I’m fine with Baz practically living here. Really, I’m fine if he actually lived here. But I want to make sure you’re okay with him practically, or actually, living here.”I smile at her. “Really, Penny. I’m fine with it. I promise.”She smiles back and stands up. “Okay, but you have to make sure he stops leaving his books laying around everywhere. Or else I really will spell them into Oblivion.”“I don’t think you would actually do that to a book,” I say.She rolls her eyes. “Try me,” she says and walks off to her bedroom. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Simon I’ve been laying on the couch for about an hour, staring at the pile of Baz’s books that are still sitting on top of the bookshelf. I keep thinking about my conversation with Penny, wondering over and over if I’m supposed to be worried about Baz leaving his stuff here. I mean, I really haven’t thought about it before. Baz has been leaving his stuff here for months. He has his ridiculous posh soaps placed randomly all over my shower and a toothbrush that he keeps on the bathroom sink. There’s a pair of his shoes sitting out by my wardrobe and at least three of his shirts and a pair of trousers hanging over my laundry hamper. And two other places where he has books laying out that Penny hasn’t noticed yet.I sit up and walk over to the bookshelf. I pick up the top book from the pile and stare at it. I can’t come up with a single reason why I should be bothered by this. When we lived together at Watford, I often got worked up over the fact that Baz hid almost all of his belongings. It was never that I wanted to snoop through them; his side of the room just always felt so empty and lonely without anything in it. A constant reminder that he never wanted to be in that room in the first place. “Simon, have you noticed how Baz has so much stuff here?” I smile and place the book down.I walk into my bedroom, over to the wardrobe. It has four large drawers, and I open the top two and start pulling out all my clothes. Then I open the bottom two and shove the clothes into them, not bothering to organize any of it (the top drawers weren’t organized either.) I grab Baz’s shoes off the floor, then walk over to my closet. I only have one pair of shoes on the floor, but I push them over anyway and put Baz’s shoes there. I then notice that Baz left his coat laying on my bed, so I put it on a hanger in the closet.I then walk into the bathroom and immediately put his toothbrush in the holder. I’m not sure why he never put it in there before, but then I remember that I wouldn’t even own a holder if it wasn’t for Penny buying me one. “Ew, Simon! You can’t just leave your toothbrush on the sink. It will collect bacteria!” I just rolled my eyes, but she bought me one anyway.I pull my phone out of my (Baz’s) jeans, and I realize that Baz will probably be on his way over soon, so I decide to shower. During my shower, I rearrange Baz’s soaps so they’re not just placed wherever there’s an empty space. Now they have their own corner. When I step out of the shower, I grab the nearest towel from the back of the door, and I realize that it’s mine, but it smells like Baz. I look at the other towel, which is also mine, but it’s the one I normally use instead of this one. And I smile. Because even though Baz keeps so much of his stuff here, he still borrowed something of mine.I put Baz’s jeans back on but dump the rest of my clothes in the hamper. I grab a shirt from my wardrobe, then walk back into the living room over to the bookshelf. I pick up the top book again and smile at it.“I didn’t realize Sarah Dessen made you so happy, Snow.”I turn around quickly, almost dropping the book in the process, and I see Baz sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea out of his mug.“Baz,” I say. ‘I- I didn’t realize you were here.”He arches an eyebrow at me, then sits his mug down and walks into the living room toward me.“Wait,” I say. “How did you get in? I have forgot I have your key.”Baz stops in front of me and smirks. “I used my vampire abilities to walk through walls.”I roll my eyes.“Magick, of course, Snow.”“Baz, I told you not to use magick outside the flat.”Baz grins at me. He runs his fingers through my hair, then leans in and lingers his lips along mine. “Someone should stop stealing my key then.”I smile. “Fair point.”“So,” he says, leaning back a bit. “What are you doing with my books?” He pokes at the book in my hand, then looks over towards the shelf.“Oh!” I turn around and move around a few stacks of paper around on the shelf. Then I take the books and place them in the empty space. “I was making room for them.”Baz cocks an eyebrow at me but doesn’t say anything. Instead he walks over to the loveseat and grabs a book off the side table, then reaches under the sofa and pulls a book out from there. He walks back over and hands them to me.“Can you find a place for these, too?”I nod and shove the books onto the shelf beside the others.“Snow,” Baz says. He slides his hand into the front pocket of my jeans. “Are these mine?”I grin at him sheepishly and rub the back of my head. “Uh, maybe? I need to do laundry.”He snorts and shakes his head. “Me too. Come on.”We walk into my room, and I stop at the wardrobe. “Look, Baz,” I say. I pull open the top two empty drawers.He arches his brow at me, then furrows both of them in confusion.“What am I looking at?”“These empty drawers.”“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t have any clean clothes left?”I laugh and shake my head. “No, Baz,” I say. “These are for you. For your clothes that you keep over here.”Baz’s eyes go wide briefly, but then a slight grin forms across his lips, and he runs his hand through my hair again.“Thank you.”I smile at him. “By the way, I’m buying you a towel.”
10169222	Say its us baby	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin (BTS), Kim Taehyung \| V, Min Yoongi \| Suga, Jung Hoseok \| J-Hope, Choi Junhong \| Zelo", "Fandom": "방탄소년단 \| Bangtan Boys \| BTS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by taetriplejae", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "17,421", "Additional Tags": "jikook - Freeform, kookmin, taegi - Freeform, surprise daelo lol, Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, strawberry ice cream?, too long to be anything, My First Smut, Blow Jobs, pikachu gets destroyed, i'm sorry pikachu, jikook are literally just boyfriends, Established Relationship, taegi appearances, the over use of 'baby', Face-Fucking, Alternate Universe - College/University, this was supposed to be a drabble but that quickly changed, pouty jungkook for days, taehyung is a dope ass friend, vague Harry Potter references, idk why the fuck I bother tagging, I suck at summaries btw, my stories always gotta have my london slang in it", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung \| V/Min Yoongi \| Suga", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	- -“So who’s Moaning Myrtle again?” Huffing in frustration, he’s ready to backhand his boyfriend’s head upside down. It’s date night. They’re having a movie marathon. And this is Jeongguk’s fifth question. “She’s that chick who got fucked up by a snake talking fucker.” Doesn’t continue or expand on his explanation, too absorbed with Harry and Ron’s entry into the chamber. By this point he’s not sure how his boyfriend hasn’t managed to connect the dots. Then again, Jeongguk hasn’t read or seen the series. Horrific. Snuggling to get cosier in anticipation of Tom Riddle’s arrival, he pulls the ash coloured throw tighter around him, nerdy grin plastered on his face. Beside him Jeongguk’s warmth comforts him, he lays his head on his shoulder, an arm snaking around his middle to burrow closer. Momentarily his inner nerd is interrupted in its squealing by a bright notification light in the corner of his eye. Looking over at the offending disturbance he finds the younger casually typing away to, by the looks of the emoji, Taehyung. Displeased he chooses to ignore it, too busy immersing himself in the wizarding world. It carries on into the third movie, Jimin’s cheek moving in rhythm with Jeongguk’s arm. At one point it does stop. Of course with it comes another round of dumb questions that Jimin replies to quick fire, trying not to get pissed off. Jeongguk ‘uhhms’ and ‘ahhs’ whilst Jimin just rolls his eyes at his slow ass brain clicking the pieces together. He truly tries to stay angry but can’t help the light chuckle that escapes him when he sees Jeongguk’s face scrunch up in thought, nose crinkling as if he’s trying to sniff out the answers. Smiling he just hugs his adorable man tighter. Grin hidden into his shoulder. Sadly the moment doesn’t last. Jimin’s cheek is moving again, arm forced to fall away from the other’s middle when he twists to grab his drink, still rapidly typing away to that doofus. ‘Are you serious?’ is literally plastered on his face, irritation brewing and pout forming that Jeongguk seems more focused on anything apart from their date night. Fuck that this is motherfucking Harry Potter. Pouting still at an oblivious Jeongguk he decides to take a mini break. Snatching the remote bitterly he pauses the film, almost cracking his glass from how hard he’s clenching it. Feet ‘unintentionally’ stomping to the kitchen, he glances back to see if his dumbass boyfriend noticed his strop. He hasn’t. Instead he’s grinning like goofy at his phone. Cursing both the idiots under his breath, he gets a quick refill and plonks himself on the lone armchair away from Jeongguk. Miffed, he hits play and settles to watch Hermione punching the fat off of Draco’s cheek. Throughout the movie Jimin tries hard to no be bothered, choosing to focus on the plot line but he fails, casually sneaking peeks at the ignoring younger constantly. It’s the last straw when he turns to Jeongguk, bouncing in excitement to share his inner nerd only to realise he’s still on his phone, not even registering his voice when he speaks. “Oh my god I love this part! Did yo-“ Jeongguk’s not listening. Fed up he just wants the movie to end so he can fuck off, his patience slowly dwindling and encouraging his inner doubts. Kissing his teeth he falls back onto the softness of the armchair, sulking and thinking how much of a better boyfriend it is than the buck-toothed idiot in the corner. Thirty minutes later Jeongguk realises he’s missing a cushiony warmth and ticklish hair from his side. Round eyes flicker up curiously to Jimin lounging too far away, legs falling off the arm. “Minie…” he hesitantly calls out when Jimin hasn’t seen him gawking for the past minute. “Yeah?” “Why are you so far away?” Voice tight. “The sofa’s too crowded and I can’t see as well without my glasses.” Bullshit. Jimin is known for his clinging affection, never letting him go without a massive hug full of sunshine. But he lets him be for now; distracted by another incoming text from Taehyung updating him on the latest anime they’ve been keeping up with religiously. Date nights are usually Saturdays, but after confessing that he’d never seen any before, Jimin immediately switched to a Friday, adamant and excited to break his Potter virginity as soon as possible. On the other hand Taehyung was not amused, offended by the younger’s disloyalty and giving him the stank eye after he tried explaining. Seriously he tried his best, but reasoning with his boyfriend was hopeless. Jimin showing him exactly how persuasive he could be, grabbing his crotch and palming him skilfully till he involuntarily bent his way. Taehyung’s only response was- “Disloyal hoe.” Then he returned back to his normal self, playing around with Jeongguk’s fluffy hair and chatting nonsense. Once he’d read the latest updates he returned back to the movie, baffled as to one, why Jimin wasn’t in his radius and two, why this rat is called Scabbers. Whose rat is it anyway? He decides to ask Jimin but his response comes out curt. Jeongguk figures he’s definitely pissed him off, just doesn’t know how. - -Grabbing empty bowls and glasses, purposefully blanking the younger, he storms into the kitchen, replaying the punch scene except Jimin is Hermione and Draco is Jeongguk. Jimin knows he looks childish but it’s supposed to be their ‘date night’. He understands that they’re always near each other anyway so it’s nothing special or necessary. Yet it’s ‘the one day’ he truly gets Jeongguk to himself. Scratch that, the ‘one evening’. Sure, when they’re fucking Jimin makes sure Jeongguk is his and his only, reminding him with his tongue every time. But contrary to the popular opinion amongst their friends, they don’t even fuck that much. Jeongguk always is, and always has been, busy because well… he’s Jeongguk. They don’t call him golden for nothing. Athletic talents, academic excellence and 99.9% would bang means everyone wants him. Needs him. Tutoring on the side, team captain of the soccer team and infamous for his rapturous singing has a whole entourage swarming him at every party, gathering and on campus moment. He’s always grinding on something. Especially when it comes to helping his actual friends. Whether it’s assisting Seokjin at the café, working in the studio with Yoongi and Namjoon or just hanging out with Taehyung, usually attempting to study but giving up to binge watch anime. Why study when both are natural geniuses? Jeongguk also takes part in the dance society. Actually it’s the one section of his packed out schedule that coincides with Jimin’s. Still he doesn’t get him to himself. Dance is Jimin’s everything, the passion that gets him through the day and his driving motivation to be better. So he himself is busy grinding, spending more time with Hoseok during the two hours and using the casual dance club as his way of brushing up his basics. He’d sneak in a few kisses, hand tugs and fleeting hugs if it weren’t for the guys and girls fawning over Jeongguk during their breaks, asking him to help them with this spin, that jump and blah, blah, blah. Rather Jimin has to watch helplessly from the corner at the random hands on his boyfriend. It doesn’t help that Jeongguk isn’t one to initiate any PDA, wasn’t really something he’d cared about either. Until a couple of weeks into their relationship, the realisation of Jeongguk’s popularity slapped him in the face. So he just ignores it, waiting till them, along with Hoseok, are the last to clear out. Then he grabs him from behind and doesn’t let go, Jeongguk just giggling at his ‘small’ Hyung as they walk through the night’s chill. He probably sounds possessive and crazy but he’s not. Jimin is proud of his boyfriend of course. But when your boyfriend is on a roll 24/7, it’s hard to get any alone time with him. That’s why he’s always been stubborn about date night. That one night is enough for him. Because just for that one night it’s not about desperate kisses and a good fuck. Only them. Reminding each other why they fell in the first place. Koala Jimin snuggling and bunny grin Jeongguk giggling. Talks about nothing and everything. Feels of the week detangling. Jimin playing with the younger’s hair, or Jeongguk softly pressing endless kisses all over honeyed skin. BUT NOOOOOOOOOOO… Jeongguk is unaffected it seems, following Jimin after the movie ends, still ‘uhmming’ and ‘ahhing’. Moving to the counter opposite Jimin, shaking the whole bag of popcorn into his mouth, he speaks through broken crumbs. “Wait, I thought we were gonna watch the whole set?” Shaking his head at his actual living piglet, he returns to washing the glasses and the stray dishes Jeongguk had been too lazy to do during the assignment rush. “Too tired.” Jimin’s concentrating on finishing the last rinse, scrubbing ferociously as if the plate is Jeongguk’s face, hands running like they’re on crack. So he doesn’t hear the footsteps move his way. Buzzing warmth hits his back, strong arms circling his front and a gentle kiss is dropped on his nape. It’s only a small gesture of affection but he laps it up. A wave of comfort washing over him as he involuntarily leans back, hands slowing down as the younger’s head naturally settles on his shoulder after another quick press to the juncture of his neck. It’s light and fleeting but its all Jimin needs just to be reassured that yes, Jeongguk is by his side. Fuzzy affection and embracing arms almost make him apologetic. Almost. Something hard and square digs into his stomach. Looking down he sees another fanboying text fly off to Taehyung. Lifting his head to the ceiling on the inhale, he ducks out of his hold on the exhale. One again Jeongguk is baffled to see Jimin storming to the front door, clearly angry as he yanks his backpack from the floor with a force. Not entirely sure what’s wrong he grabs onto the elder’s wrist. “Minie where you going? I thought you were staying over?” Huffing. “I remembered I got a last minute assignment to finish up.” With that he tears his wrist away, jamming his feet into his trainers. Jeongguk isn’t stupid, they’ve been going out for a year now but already he knows when something is wrong with his boyfriend. Sulking with narrow eyes and sharp words that drip in irritation. But Jeongguk can’t help but find his anger cute, marching around to blow off steam, adorably pouting further if Jeongguk dares ignore his rant and readily planting himself onto his lap until he listens. So yeah, Jeongguk knows when he’s pissed off his boyfriend and now comes the problem of dealing with it. For Jimin that usually means showering him with cuddles and coaxing kisses on his pout, slowly relaxing him until he voices his problem whilst Jeongguk listens intently, stroking his sides. Clearly that failed earlier in the kitchen when he saw him washing up a tornado of soap in the sink. “But you made sure to finish off your work with Hoseok Hyung earlier so you could stay up all night for the marathon,” he grabs Jimin’s wrist again when he doesn’t listen, forcing him to spin back around to face Jeongguk. However Jimin looks set on being vexed, lips still puckering and eyes burning with frustration. Eyes pointedly not looking at Jeongguk, “I just realised I missed some sources out so I need to go wrap them up.” His wrists are still in the questioning younger’s firm grip, “so? You’ve got your laptop. I got WiFi and Yoongi is out. Why not do it here?” Trying but failing to wrench his wrist away he puffs in annoyance. “Because some of my sources are at home.” Jeongguk isn’t buying it. He drops his wrist and tugs him forward by the waist, voice dropping in worry as he leaned inwards to murmur into the small space, their noses almost brushing, “baby what’s wrong?” Finally Jimin looks up into hazelnut eyes, breath hitching a tad at the change in tone. He would never admit how much he loves it when Jeongguk does that. Body softening at the nickname and shivering a little at the love. It’s rare. And Jimin drowns in it every time. “Nothing,” he whispers quietly. Sighing Jeongguk moves back up, Jimin’s eyes darting in panic at the withdrawal but Jeongguk only pulls him closer. “Clearly I’ve pissed you off and I’m not gonna know if you don’t tell me.” “You were being a dickhead as usual but that’s it.” No one said Jimin was going to make it easy. Rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s stubbornness, he moves a hand to one of Jimin’s, unfurling his fingers and dropping the backpack. “Be more specific Minie.” Jimin waits a moment to contemplate on how to voice himself, ready to openly talk to Jeongguk about his recent doubts. That is until something vibrates against his waist. Both of them look down to see Jeongguk’s phone flickering with a constant roll of messages from Taehyung causing him to gasp dramatically, one hand removing itself from Jimin’s waist to type intensely in true fanboy fashion. Jimin looks up at his stupid boyfriend on more time, watching his face light up in glee before he picks up his backpack again and rushes out the front door before the younger can stop him. - -Slamming the front door, dashing his backpack into his room along the way, he marches to a well known idiot’s room. Door swinging. “YOU.” A.k.a roommate. A.k.a best friend. A.k.a Kim son-of-a-bitch Taehyung. Who currently is lying in a mess of a bed, hoodie up and eyes glued to his laptop screen, phone clasped in his large hands. Glancing over briefly, unbothered by Jimin’s rage, he gets back to what he was doing. “I’M GONNA RIP UP YOUR MANGA, BURN UP YOUR POKEMON COLLECTION AND RETURN YOUR PIKACHU PLUSHIE WITH A BUST UP STITCH AND JACKED UP EYES.” That gets him up and alert. “You wouldn’t dare!” bony finger pointing his way, “whyy Jiminiee?? I didn’t even do anything!” He objected to that, “yes you fucking did with your stupid cartoons and my boyfriend being equally moist for it.” “Yo it’s not my fault Harry Potter is a dead film,” shrugging Taehyung comments nonchalantly. There’s a moment of threatening silence. “Take it back Tae.” Almond eyes dance with mirth. “N.O.” “Motherfu-“ but he doesn’t finish his sentence as he charges, Taehyung managing to push his laptop away in time for Jimin’s body slam. Yanking Taehyung’s hoodie he tries to put him in a headlock and fails, the taller moving quicker. So instead he pulls off the hoodie as the other escapes, but not for long. Running around in circles, jumping from corner to corner whilst Jimin chucks his manga collection at Taehyung’s head constantly, he manages to pin him down to the bed when Taehyung makes the fatal decision to save them. Grappling big hands he bends them backwards, ass seated on thighs to stop him from flopping away. Eventually he has his lanky bestie screaming mercy and backtracking on his words. “Ah-argghhh!! Why do you still have my fucking hands bent f-ahhh-for?!” “Oops!” unapologetically he rolls off and begins pushing Taehyung with his feet to make some room, shoving him with every word. “Because of you I got no cuddles, no-“ “Dick.” “Yea- wait what? Shut up Tae.” His initial anger has calmed down to a sulking pout, glad to be venting to Taehyung. Maybe not voluntarily but that’s beside the point. Still recovering Taehyung flips onto his side, shirtless because his hoodie was destroyed in the chaos, “so you wanna tell me why I just got attacked by a midget?” Blatantly dropping him a dirty look he gets straight to the point, “Ggukie was too busy texting you for updates to watch the movie. You know those annoying people who ask stupid questions when it’s their own fault for not watching the film?” Taehyung grins knowingly, “basically you’re mad because Gguk was ignoring you.” “Basically.” “So why did you run over here instead of actually telling him? He probably didn’t know you know…” “Well I was about to when some dickhead decided to message my boyfriend at that precise moment and I just got vexed. If I hadn’t ducked out I would’ve probably thrown something at his boulder nose.” Sighing he rolls onto his side, fingers playing with creased folds, silently guilty at his pride getting in his way. Chuckling at the well abused insult, Jimin swatting his tummy repeatedly, he responds, “that was a good on- ow! Okay, okay. I’m gonna be honest. You know that was petty right?” Frowning further Jimin’s guilt increases, “I know.” “Good. Now that that’s out of the way, tell me what the real problem is.” Jimin’s eyebrows rise in question. Taehyung scoffs, “come on Jiminie! As annoying it is, you wouldn’t have gotten that angry at Gguk for being on his phone.” Crescent eyes stare back in confusion, “you’d probably just pout in his face, and knowing Gguk, he would go all sappy and soft until you tell him what’s wrong and make up however you guys usually do.” Taehyung looks at his best friend expectantly but the latter just stares back in utter astonishment at how well he knows their relationship. “Shit how did you come-“ “As my best friends, it’s my duty to know you guys too well,” flicking Jimin’s forehead he carries on, “anyway my point. What’s up?” Jimin knows what’s up. He’s just chosen to ignore it thinking it will magically get better. “Do you think we should even be dating?” Taehyung blinks thrown off by the question. “What?” “You know how amazing Jeongguk is. Maybe he needs someone equally amazing…” Jimin’s eyes look at him crushed and hollow. Taehyung’s not having it. “Jimin you better shut the fuck up before I bash that pretty head of yours with Vaseline slicked hands, cause you know that shit stings enough to bring you back from wherever your dumbass is. You’re-“ “I know I’m hot.” “Amaz- oh,” Taehyung’s stunned into bafflement, “well okay then.” “But if he doesn’t want me then he just needs to tell me. I’d rather that, then stand there stupidly looking desperate.” Taehyung attempts to interrupt but is cut off, “he can do this and that… maybe he just needs someone prettier and talented that can do this and that with him. Instead of someone who sidelines uselessly.” The taller stays silent and Jimin thanks his best friend for knowing when to interrupt him and when to just let him release it all out. “I guess I just miss him too much,” he chuckles emptily, “I just want some alone time, or even just moments where it’s just the two of us. Instead of a really good fuck every so often.” Exhaling he rolls onto his back, “I must sound like one of those selfishly, possessive boyfriends right?” Taehyung sits up not wanting to stare at Jimin’s doubting face any longer. “I get you.” Chocolate orbs snap up to him, inquisitive. “You’re the sideman, not his boyfriend.” Jimin’s face switches to a frown and Taehyung looks back laughing at the dirty look. “You’re not selfish. You just want your boyfriend. Not a friend to chill with and conveniently fuck. It would be selfish if you were one of those couples who could never do anything without the other, that’s called having no life.” Jimin smiles fondly at the understanding, “exactly.” “Probably doesn’t help that he isn’t one to initiate anything in public. I wonder if anyone even knows you guys are dating apart from the gang,” Taehyung wonders to himself. Jimin is back to glaring, “see how do you get it but Jeongguk doesn’t even see it?” Exasperated he rolls around whilst heaving in exaggeration to further his point. Flipping back onto the bed Taehyung begins playing with Jimin’s tee, “because Jiminie, you and I are the same. Also you seem to forget that I’m dating Yoongi Hyung and let’s be honest, compared to Jeongguk, he’s worse.” Taehyung looks salty but is internally smiling at Jimin giggling, probably reminiscing at the memories of having to practically jump Yoongi for a hug in public. This time it’s Taehyung’s turn to swat Jimin, “shut up. Do you remember how hard it was to get him to ask me out? He was so dry that I had to kiss it out of him. Admittedly he never let me go after that…” Jimin is still giggling as he continues, “sometimes I’m not surprised they’re roommates, may as well be blood brothers. Anyway Yoongi and me went through something similar. You just need to talk to him. Knowing Jeongguk he has no idea how you feel. Dense just like his shorter twin.” “Mmm…” “Don’t know about you Jiminie but I know for a fact Gguk adores you more than you give him credit for. Have you seen the way he looks at you when you talk? You may think you’re useless to him but he looks at you like he needs you.” Jimin still looks unconvinced. Well all Taehyung can do is try and talk some sense into him, it’s up to Jimin to do whatever from there. “Gguk’s not the most emotionally vocal and he’s a bit dense, but just give him a chance to know before you get angry okay? I mean where else is he gonna find such a fat ass- ow! ‘Kay, okay. Just promise me you will talk to him tomorrow?” Turning to face Jimin he pokes his cheek repeatedly so he’d look at him. Jimin consents, twining his finger with the pinkie that’s offered. “Fine.” Finger back to poking his cheek he smiles boxy, “good. Because my phone won’t shut up right now because a certain Gguk is moping.” That seems to return some faith into Jimin, smiling up in satisfaction at the statement. Taehyung rolls his eyes, swiftly dropping a few texts to the younger and lifting his duvet from where it got trampled on the floor. Covering the both of them he stretches his arms in a dramatic gesture, beaming as he wiggles his eyebrows. “Apology cuddles?” Jimin all but shoots forward. “Apology cuddles.” Grinning with ease he snuggles into the warmth of Taehyung’s familiar stature. - -Jeongguk struggles to balance two bags full of McDonalds, plus drinks, banana milkshake for himself, vanilla and caramel lattes for his Hyungs. Taehyung is Jeongguk’s best friend and Jimin is his boyfriend, so naturally he knows the code by heart, although anyone could probably guess ‘1995’. Finally managing to barge through the entrance, he immediately sets off to the kitchen to free his hands. Emptying them he tries to iron himself out. Jeongguk’s not exactly in the most decent of states, eyes tired from worry, hair messy and back sweating from trying to run in time for breakfast serving. Straightaway, with a sense of urgency he strides over to the very room he’s wanted to run to since last night. He still has no idea what happened. Unfortunately Taehyung told him nothing, only mentioning that he’s sorted it all out and to give Jimin some space for now. No. Jeongguk will not give him some space because that was his job, not Taehyung’s. He and Jimin have had minor tiffs in the past but he’s never seen defeated eyes. They’ve even yelled at each other, dashing books and the like but that just showed how much they cared enough to work it out. This time though, Jimin had walked away instead of sitting down with him, talking it out in the privacy of their arms after the storm calmed down like they normally would. As if he had given up. However Taehyung insisted he stay put for the night, repeatedly telling him Jimin is okay as reassurance. But that’s not reassurance for him. Jimin cuddling and moulding into his embrace whilst Jeongguk presses apologetic kisses all over his pretty face is what will give him reassurance. Padding over quietly, he creaks the door open slowly in case of disturbing his boyfriend. “Minie…” he calls out softly. No one replies so he walks inside staring at the dashed backpack from last night and empty sheets. Taking another look around to make sure, he strolls back to the main room to check the couch. Not there either. Humming his thoughts get disturbed when he hears a faint noise come from Taehyung’s room. He busts the door open, not really caring with manners when it comes to Taehyung since he’s known to jump the younger in the past too. The scene that greets him would be endearing if Jeongguk wasn’t one, fighting with Jimin and two, a little jealous. Tongue instantly pokes his inner cheek as he looks over the two, vaguely registering the urge to toss Taehyung off his boyfriend and out the window. Jealous indeed. Jimin is lying curled into his side with one hand stuck in Taehyung’s hair, probably from petting him to sleep. His other arm is resting over his neck with both legs locking around Taehyung’s right thigh in a firm grip. Jeongguk’s nostrils really don’t flare up at the sight of thick legs straining against tanned skin. Taehyung on the other hand is spread eagled on top as usual, slightly below Jimin with one arm around his waist and head fitted into his chest drooling everywhere. Jeongguk’s entrance must have rustled the two somewhat as they both wiggle a little, Jimin yawning as he turns to lay on his back and Taehyung sneaking further down to wrap his arms around his tummy, simultaneously face planting it. Jeongguk’s done enough examining. Moving noisily to Taehyung’s side he begins kicking his butt mercilessly. Jeongguk’s legs are dangerous, but Taehyung also sleeps like a rock. Just like his boyfriend. Making a quick trip back to the kitchen he fetches their drinks and goes straight up to Taehyung and places his ice cold milkshake on his shirtless back, watching in evil glee when he takes out an ice cube to spread it all over. Shrieking Taehyung startles awake, forcibly rolling away and prying open his crusty eyes venomous with hate. “Wha the fuc was dat for dickhead!?!” words slurred from sleep he attempts to figure out what the hell is going on, mind running in confusion. Till he notices Jeongguk’s biting the inside of his cheek and feels the jealousy rolling off him in waves. Jimin opens his eyes at the expletives, also groaning at being awoken too early and to Jeongguk’s displeasure, rolls right back into Taehyung’s side after patting around to find him. Taehyung smirks, eyes droopy whilst sticking his tongue out at the jealous younger. A small hand finds his face, trying to close his eyes, “Taeee…” whiney, “go back to sleep.” Taehyung croakily laughs at Jeongguk, enjoying the look of envy as the smaller goes to wrap himself around him tighter. Since Jimin is close by he feels him shake and whinges louder, shuffling even closer to hold him still. “Tae shut the fuck up, I beg you.” “Jiminie I would if your boyfriend wasn’t looking at me like he wants to throw his milkshake at my face.” It takes about thirty seconds for Jimin to register the words fully and instantly jerk his head in the direction of the door. Jeongguk’s glare at Taehyung quickly turns into one of affection, moving to sit on the corner of the bed where Jimin is. His boyfriend looks so cute that he swears he’s going to combust. Dishevelled hair, puffy cheeks and squinting eyes as he scratches his head, “Ggukie?” “Mmm… Morning Minie,” voiced laced in honey and tenderness, loving the way puffy cheeks now bloom a faint pink. Taehyung gags in the corner, turning into a choke when Jeongguk turns to him with daggers in his eyes. “I bought us all breakfast,” now smiling sweetly at Taehyung with a knowing nod he passes him his caramel latte, “here Hyung, I left the McDs in the kitchen.” “Ughhh stop smiling at me like that, you’re scaring me,” he takes the drink slurping loudly and scrolling listlessly through his phone. Taehyung hasn’t taken the hint so he clears his throat, again pointedly darting threatening eyes to the door. “Oh, Ohhhh, right. I’m starving so I’m just gonna-yeah. Anyway Jiminie remember what I said last night ‘kay?” he moves forwards to peck his bestie on the head for encouragement but decides against it when Jeongguk’s nails look as if they’re going to pierce his milkshake. “Yeah, yeah I’m going. Jheezee.” Jeongguk’s gaze switches back to Jimin who’s staring after his best friend still half sleepy and baffled. Handing him his drink he shuffles further onto the bed to sit more comfortably next to his boyfriend. Jimin, finally starting to wake up, sips on his latte until he can’t ignore the burning gaze next to him. As expected, Jeongguk is looking down in earnest waiting for him to say something. “Thanks… for the latte,” he smiles, heart softening when he watches doe eyes widen and bunny teeth peek out as he returns it. Jeongguk goes to say something but keeps closing his mouth, hands fiddling with his straw and biting his lip unsure of what to do. Regret from last night heightens seeing his Jeongguk lost and tip toeing around him. Reminded of his promise to Taehyung, he battles forwards, “I’m sorry for yesterday. I ran out without explaining myself. Date night was ruined and that was my stubborn self’s fault.” Dropping his eyes down to his finger lining the cup’s lip idly, he goes to explain himself but he gets interrupted. “Nope. I’m not accepting your apology.” “What?” “I’m not accepting your apology because I still don’t know what happened.” Then he leans further down into Jimin’s space, “like I said baby, be more specific.” Warm hands go to hold his free one, playing with his fingers. Waiting. It takes a few more seconds of silence before Jimin speaks up. “You were on your phone not even watching the film. I mean that bothered me a little bit but what made me angry was the feeling of being ignored.” Jeongguk is still calmly playing with his fingers listening attentively as he carried on, “I know it’s stupid but I don’t know… it was date night and I was just looking forward to finally spending time with you.” “But we always spend time together?” “We are always together indeed. But as weird as it sounds, I feel like I’m a third wheel most of the time.” Jimin watches Jeongguk stop playing with his fingers. “How does that make sense?’ he looks up with confusion imprinted on his face. “It doesn’t,” Jimin replies, hands removing from Jeongguk’s, “I always feel like I miss you when you’re literally right in front of me.” Jeongguk looks at his empty hands, “I don’t get it. We’re the couple. It’s everyone else that’s the third wheel.” “Strange huh?” Jaw tightening in vexation Jeongguk tries to understand but he seriously doesn’t. Moreover Jimin’s vague answers aren’t helping, annoyance building and irritation slowly seeping into his voice. “Jimin. Like I said before. Be more fucking specific.” Jeongguk isn’t the only one heating up. Jimin snaps back, “be more specific huh? Yes we are together. But are we really? In the studio while you munch on the food I bring you, I sit in the corner waiting for you. Those times you never even acknowledge my presence. Not even a small hello, quick kiss or hug. Even just a ‘hey babe how you doing?’ but nope. I spend way more time with Hoseok even when you’re right in front of m-“ Not willing to back down whilst accusations fly at him, rationality goes out the window once Jimin starts raising his voice. “I’m helping other fucking people? How is that my fault?? You can’t expect me to constantly be looking after yo-“ The final sentence breaks Jimin. “I’M NOT ASKING YOU TO FUCKING LOOK AFTER ME! IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT! IT’S MINE FOR BEING A STUPIDLY JEALOUS BOYFRIEND-“ “THEN WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU GETTING ANGRY FOR? CLEARLY YOU’VE IDENTIFIED THE FUCKING PROBLEM IN THIS RELATIONSHIP!” Jeongguk roars back. He really doesn’t mean it. But Jimin doesn’t know that. Reluctantly he pulls back from him, “even when all you’re doing is chilling. Bowling with your soccer mates, going to get food with you’re course friends- I’m always on the side nodding along as if I just haven’t been ditched to play with my phone whilst my boyfriend speaks to everyone but me. Even with Taehyung-“ Jeongguk doesn’t let him finish, voice not calmed down in the slightest. “WHAT?! ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?? SO I CAN’T HANG OUT WITH MY FRIENDS? THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU??” Yelling, “ARE YOU THAT FUCKNG JEALOUS AND INSECU-“ Jimin interrupts him before he can finish that sentence, emotions cracking along with his heart at the harsh words. “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEAN!” He turns away from the younger in an attempt to get a hold of himself. “THEN TELL ME WHAT YOU FUCKING MEAN JIMIN! THAT IS LITERALLY WHAT I’VE BEEN FUCKING ASKING YOU!” Jeongguk really wants to control himself and pull Jimin back round, drag him into a hug, kissing him hard apologetically. Tension thrums in the air whilst they both breathe heavily. “You’re never with just me and I’m fucking stingy for selfishly wanting you to myself. I miss my boyfriend. I want his hugs, his kisses without having to go find them myself. I want just him and yeah.” Shoulders dropping, “yeah, you’re right. I am the problem.” Pivoting to face him now, dejected smile etched onto his face, “okay? Happy now? I jus-“ his voice croaks so he twists back to face Taehyung’s closet. “I just want to be with you sometimes. Not just a convenient fuck. Since that seems to be the only time I get to have you to myself.” No. Jimin is not his convenient fuck. Never. Swallowing Jeongguk reaches out to him, regret already dissipating his prior anger. “Min-“ “I know. I’m selfish. I get it. Whatever. I’m gonna go shower.” In quick steps he makes it to the door before he begins bawling.- -Taehyung watches Jimin run into the bathroom with a sigh. Having heard the muffled shouting coming from his room, he promptly began preparing for damage control. Sending a text to Yoongi for some advice he also makes an appointment for cuddles later because it looks like it’s going to a long morning for Taehyung the awesome, best friend. It takes Jeongguk two minutes after Jimin to approach Taehyung, almost crashing into the dining table at the speed he runs in. Voice unstable, “Hyung do I really-“ “Yes Gguk.” Thankfully Jimin’s started his shower so he doesn’t have to worry about him overhearing. “I didn’t even say-“ “Don’t need to, he told me everything last night,” Taehyung simultaneously skims his boyfriend’s message, smiling a little and mentally sending him a big, fat kiss for being so in sync with Taehyung.[ 11:00 ] 6th Gear: Straight to the point. That’s all it takes babe x Taking a seat opposite his Hyung and mirroring his actions, he stuffs hash browns into his mouth, regret running through him at raising his voice to Jimin. “Even you know huh? Wow is that how bad I’ve been?” Taehyung hates seeing another friend sad and defeated for the second time in the space of 24 hours. Unlike with Jimin, Jeongguk’s always been a baby brother, Taehyung protecting him from the evils of the world. Realistically it’s usually Jeongguk and his muscles but socially he was his saviour. “To be honest the only reason I know is one, he told me and two, we’re not that different.” “Do you think so too? Was I that much of a shitty boyfriend?” he looks up at his Hyung, innocent and lost. Okay Taehyung time to be blunt. Rip that plaster off and let it heal quick. Yoongi’s always right. Ahhh Yoongi… he’s gonna ride that locked in 6th gear at 90- okay he needs to get back to the problem. “Yes.” Jeongguk face palms the table, “and no.” A groan vibrates the table, “not you too Hyung…” “What do you think?” Jeongguk looks up, already knowing his answer because as Jimin said it he realised it too. All their memories together were never really together. There was always someone else in the picture, Jeongguk focusing on something or someone else. Tutoring whilst Jimin sat to the side doing his own work, only realising they were together on the way home. Jimin always tangled their hands, smiling up and pressing closer into him, evening breeze tousling his soft locks. It was always a breathtaking sight. That he never appreciated enough. During practice he was always with the other members, teaching them where they were going wrong. Jimin never seemed like he minded really. Yet it was certainly not Jeongguk that pulled the other into a hug at the end, or kissed the other goodnight before splitting ways. Whilst working in the studio he’d only notice Jimin when they decided to pack up and leave, he was usually asleep in the corner since their sessions lasted long hours. But he never complained once. With Taehyung it was always just chilling and messing around and Jimin would play around when he can, straying away alone when they began talking of things Jimin never understood. He doesn’t remember just Jimin apart from on a Friday night. Never suggested the dates, never initiated the skinship, never even texted back consistently. It was always Jimin. Taehyung cocks his head smiling knowingly at him. “I fucked up huh?” Laughing Taehyung moves to the seat next to the younger, grabbing a McMuffin along the way, he extends a hand out to ruffle the younger’s hair, soothing him like old times. “Yeah you did. But I know you didn’t do it on purpose. I’m sure Jimin knows too, he’s probably just too upset- “ Jeongguk interrupts solemnly, “but I called him selfish and weak. I told him he was the problem.” Sarcastic, “of course you did. Why wouldn’t you?” Taehyung hums in thought, “why are you guys such angry people? Always acting on your emotions quickly.” “To be fair Hyung, you’re the scariest when you’re angry.” Fucking brat. “That’s because I don’t get angry over just anything. Anyway back to my point, just talk to Jimin and apologise. What happened earlier was a good thing, blowing off steam helps with the apology.” “Yeah you’re right… Do you think he’d forgive me?” Jeongguk grabs Taehyung’s McMuffin to stuff into his mouth hungrily. He lets it pass because he will just steal Jimin’s later in repayment. “This is Jimin we’re talking about, of course he would. He loves you too much if you ask me,” continuing to play with the younger’s hair he confesses a part of Jimin’s rant from last night. “Gguk you know he thinks you don’t like him right?” Jeongguk drops the McMuffin dumbfounded, “what?” “He blames himself for holding you down because you’re too nice to let him go. Thinks you deserve someone just as good at your talents-“ “But he’s all I need.” “Looks like you gotta show him then.” - -Jimin relaxes under shower jets, calming his emotions and strawberry lotion leaving him feeling refreshed. Then he remembers what just happened and is suddenly too nervous to leave the bathroom. He doesn’t know if Jeongguk’s still here but he hopes not because he feels like backhanding himself all day for screaming at him. After all it wasn’t Jeongguk’s fault Jimin never spoke up. Nervously he opens the door, doing a quick search he sees no one and legs it to his room, sparing no more glances to his surroundings. Once inside he releases a breath of relief, locking it before turning to go and dry his hair but someone sitting on his bed stops him. Shit… “Jeongguk?” The figure turns around and Jimin’s heart drops at the ashamed expression that faces him. Jeongguk gets up immediately, about to move forward but decides against it when he sees Jimin’s hand clenching the doorknob fiercely. “I’m sorry-“ “No I’m sorry-“ “No Jimi-“ “Ggukie no. I should be sorry,” Jimin makes the move to go forward. It’s always Jimin making the first move, the one to keep things going; Jeongguk frowns further at the thought. Frowning was a bad move because Jimin hesitates in his step, unsure of whether to keep going, “I… it was my fault. I should have said something first instead of shouting at you out of nowhere.” He’s stopped moving, uncertainly mumbling from his spot, “if you don’t want to be with me that’s like cool… I just rather know rather than running after you. I mean you could have anyone-“ “But I choose you.” There’s no past or future tense. Jeongguk decides to move forward this time. Reaching for Jimin’s hands he entangles them with his, smiling at the way they don’t exactly fit well but they still look like it’s mean to be, small fingers unwilling to let go. “I choose you baby.” Jimin gasps as Jeongguk tugs him forward, eyes loving and overflowing with some other unknown emotion he hasn’t seen before. “Don’t say sorry. I’m the one who says sorry,” thumbs rub gently against Jimin’s knuckles, tracing patterns of assurance. “I’m so sorry for leaving you in the back. I didn’t realise I was ignoring you because you’ve always just been there for me. I’ve never had to go looking for you because you’d always find me and care for me.” Jimin’s heart is banging a dangerous beat at the words, emotions swelling like a balloon as large disappointed eyes hold him in place. “Guess I took you for granted.” “Jeongguk I-“ but the he shakes his head, stopping him and kissing his knuckles guiltily. “You make me smile whenever you hang off me laughing. Inspire me to keep doing better whenever you dance with such passion, beautiful and graceful. Only you could make me so soft whenever you tackle me out of nowhere. Your arms my home when I doubt myself.” Jimin hides his gorgeous face by looking down, lower lip trembling. “I don’t want someone like me. I want someone who can support me and push me to be better. And that’s what you do for me. I’m so fucking into you I can’t look at anyone else. I don’t want anyone but you. It’s always been you baby. “ Jeongguk smiles once he sees Jimin’s beautiful eyes curve up into smiling crescents. And Jimin lets go again, like he always does when it comes to Jeongguk, bunny grin lulling his heartache. Hearing the pure cherishment running through his words to Jimin’s soul. He can’t help himself. The balloon pops. “I love you babe.” “I love you more baby,” and Jeongguk’s smile gets impossibly wider when small hands let go to wrap around him, feeling the other’s grin through the fabric from how tightly he’s holding on. Jimin’s damp hair wets his shirt but he doesn’t give a shit. It’s better than Taehyung’s drool at the end of the day. “Plus,” casually he moves his hands downwards to grab onto Jimin’s bubble butt, “where am I gonna get a better ass than yours?” Jimin jumps back, a look of mock shock on his face as Jeongguk laughs in mischief. The smaller whacks his hands away, and pushes him away but Jeongguk refuses to let him go, moving to grab him back to him. “I’m sorryyyyy…” Jimin’s faster sadly. “You and Taehyung I swear,” he steps backwards as the other keeps advancing forwards with grabby hands, moping like a five year old. Jeongguk stops in his step for a moment, “what did he say?” Jimin stops too. “The same as you,” and he grins at the darkness looming in his eyes. “I swear he needs to stop touching what isn’t his,” and with that he quickly breezes forward, Jimin too busy laughing to react in time, embracing him again backed up against the door. He’s smiling down whilst the other holds onto him during his fit of giggles, trying not to fall over and Jeongguk honestly wants to slap his past self for ever ignoring him, “what was I thinking…” he sighs. Jimin looks up in confusion at the statement, “I’m cancelling my tutoring gigs. Fuck it.” Shaking his head Jimin plays with Jeongguk’s front, smile permanent on his face, “no don’t do that. “ “But-“ “I actually love that you’re always grinding, reminds me to do the same. I’d rather have a hustler than a loser. Plus,” a hand goes to stroke down Jeongguk’s stomach, flexing under the gentle touch, “I think it’s hot seeing you grind.” Smirking, “which grinding we talking about baby?” He leans forwards just as Jimin decides to slap his chest again. “Shut up you pervert. Also since we’re trying this open communication thing- I love it when you call me that.” He giggles when Jeongguk stops to think as if it’s a math equation. And for Jeongguk that means a lot of thinking. “What, ‘baby’?” Jimin breathes deep, it’s the first time he’s experienced Jeongguk say it so many times, and he honestly can’t get enough. “Yeah.” Grinning wickedly he crowds Jimin’s space, “baby~” he whispers into his ear, like it’s a prayer. Jimin’s heart rate picks up, insides starting to do belly flops as his eyes flutter at the warm whisper tickling him. Yanking Jeongguk’s face back to face him he tells him to shut up but Jeongguk dismisses the empty insult. “Baby, baby, babyyy…” leaning down to get closer to his long awaited destination. Truthfully he should have landed ages ago. Suddenly he’s stopped just before he gets there, Jimin using the hands on his cheeks to squish them together like a fish and prevent him from kissing him. “wwwhhhyyyyy???” Jeongguk is actually pouting. Well, trying to at least. “Nope.” There’s finality in it. Jeongguk draws back in shock, “wait what?” This time it’s Jimin’s turn to smirk, “did you think I was going to make it easy for you Ggukie?” Jeongguk knew his boyfriend was a tease but he didn’t think he’d go this far. “You gotta give me some space to forgive you. Just cause you apologised doesn’t mean I’m still not upset.” “You’re still upset?” now Jimin can finally see Jeongguk pout properly, grumpy like a little kid when he realises the consequences of Jimin’s words. “I am, but not like before. You just need to give me some time to get over it. Plus a simple sorry ain’t going to cut it.” At that Jeongguk definitely pulls away, bafflement slapped across his forehead. “What?” “I still forgive you Ggukie…” he smiles genuinely to show him there’s no harm. Jeongguk understands though. He fucked up so he needs to let Jimin vent it out and he has a lot to make up for. It’s only fair but no loving was going too far. At least in Jeongguk’s humble opinion. He decides to use his newly found weapon. “But babyyyyy,” and Jimin laughs at the younger’s eagerness. He’s never seen him this whiney before and frankly, Jimin’s enjoying it. Patting his right cheek he smirks teasingly, “Grovel for it Ggukie.” From the other side of Jimin’s door a loud bang vibrates against the wood as something falls. Or someone. Since all Jeongguk can hear is someone cracking up like a donkey. - -Jeongguk knew grovelling was going to be somewhat difficult. But with someone like Jimin, he didn’t think it’d be this hard. It’s been about two weeks now, and he hasn’t kissed him, held him or fucked him. Truthfully he’d expected this to last maybe a week? Jimin was a forgiving person, never not hugging Jeongguk, holding hands or wrapped around him in some way. So naturally he’d assumed they’d be back to normal quick. But Jeongguk forgot one thing- Jimin’s stubbornness.-He’s watching anime with Taehyung, resting his head against Jimin’s knees, the latter flicking through a manga above him. Unluckily he’s missing his favourite element to the scene, Jimin’s hand carding through his hair like he soothingly does, petting him whilst he would normally snuggle further into his legs. Shuffling around he tries to drop the hint but Jimin doesn’t respond. Jeongguk knows he knows by the way a sly smile creeps on his face and in the end Taehyung’s the one to roughly play with his hair, frustrated by the wriggling and silent whinging.-Walking Jimin home after the gang got together for Seokjin’s birthday, and wanting to give Yoongi and Taehyung a head start before he has to deal with it, he leans forward expectantly. “What are you doing babe?” Jimin has the cheek to giggle at him. Admittedly he probably looks like a fish with lips puckered and eyes closed tight. But Jeongguk is a warrior. Whining he refuses to open his eyes and leans forward further, begging the other for mercy. “Pleeeasseee babyyy…” Hands covering his own mouth can’t even hold back Jimin’s laugh, enjoying a needy Jeongguk too much. Pinching his side for abusing Jimin’s favourite nickname again. Opposite him Jeongguk still hasn’t moved, so when he hears a pitying sigh and a “goodnight babe~” he drops down even closer but it’s met with air. Stumbling over his feet from leaning forward too much, trying not to face plant the floor, he finally opens his eyes to Jimin creasing against the doorframe. Jeongguk seriously hasn’t pouted so much in his life. A warm hand to his cheek relieves him though, and he closes his eyes in pleasure, humming as he rubs his face against the soft inside. It doesn’t last, “grovel some more Ggukie.”-Drooling he watches Jimin throw on a khaki denim jacket with his blacked out outfit. Added with perfume, the scent of royal Armani elegance soaking into him, sunglasses contrasting with blonde bangs alluringly, he really can’t hold himself back. His boyfriend looks like absolute, glorious, sin. Taehyung actually has to pull his ear for him to stop. What Taehyung doesn’t understand is how much he wants to just slam his boyfriend on the nearest surface and rip everything off. Especially when he walks back into the living room, with such a confident swagger brushing his hair backwards effortlessly, silver rings glinting in the light, throwing Taehyung’s matching pair of sunglasses to him indicating he’s ready. Jimin stops in front of him raising an eyebrow in question, “ready to go babe?” “Fuck yeah baby…” “Oh my lord,” Taehyung’s donkey laughter interrupting his admiration. The taller gets up to grab onto Jimin’s elbow and lead them out, both looking like models striding out of the door, flawless. Jeongguk ‘s hand itches to touch. Taehyung he doesn’t mind too much, but everyone else needs to go find something else to eye fuck. Strutting around campus, all eyes are on the pair, jaws dropping and spit swallowing when the breeze of expensive and fierce passes them. He makes sure to scowl, moving up behind Jimin closer to hide his boyfriend from unworthy eyes. “Jiminie control your man.” “Shut up Hyung.” They’ve arrived at the atrium, their Hyungs waiting for them. Jimin stops for a moment in front of a mirror, adjusting his hair. He feels heavy hands hold his hips, a large warmth covering him from behind and he looks up to see his boyfriend intensely staring at him, eyes clouding in lust as he squeezes. But then his hands unravel to splay on the front of his jeans, pulling Jimin into him as he goes to nose down behind his ear, whispering, “Damn baby…” Lips ready to skim down smooth skin, “I wanted to backhand all of them.” “Lucky for you I’m yours.” His hair half covers Jeongguk’s face but he sees the pleased grin, warm breaths now slowly making their way down closer to the juncture of his neck. Knowing what’s about to happen he reacts instantly, pushing Jeongguk’s face backwards with a palm when he tries to kiss him. Devastated by the rejection he sulks, “babyyy whyyyyyy??” Jimin just laughs at him and walks off to Namjoon. - -Still he carries on trying his best to apologise for his fuck up. Reminding him every time, whenever, that he deserves it all. Because Jimin is worth it.-“Minie.” Jimin turns around with a questioning look, pen cushioned on his plush lips with ink staining his adorable fingers. “What?” “Cute.” Jimin dashes the pen at his forehead, secretively smiling as he turns back with pink tinted cheeks. Jeongguk’s at a tutoring gig but his tutee is doing some work he’d set her so he excuses himself for a bit to check on his boyfriend. Since he can’t show any physical affection towards the smaller, he decided to buy him some hot chocolate and a cookie when he arrived. Heart falling a little at Jimin’s genuine shock at his gesture, thinking how bad he was before to not even care enough to make sure he’s hydrated whist Jeongguk works. After all, Jimin is the one that’s there voluntarily. But his frown turns when a Jimin blinds with him a grateful smile, nudging him a little shyly as they move to the tables.-Jeongguk’s just finished soccer practice. He’s sweating, tired and wants to just roll on the floor. Jongup slaps him on the back to wake him up from half sleeping on the bench. Sympathetically he smiles, “go shower captain. It’s getting late.” Jeongguk replies equally friendly, appreciating his Hyung’s worry. “Course Hyung.” When he finishes up, hoodie unzipped and gym bag slung over one shoulder, he buzzes out of the gym only to smile, previous exhaustion evaporating. Jimin’s standing there waiting for him, nothing out of the ordinary except this time Jeongguk actually takes the time to appreciate his presence, especially noticing his own crimson hoodie on him. Two bottles of milkshake are in his hand as tradition, one banana and one strawberry. Jimin’s hair is fluffy from showering too, skin a little flushed and lower lip sucked in as he concentrates on not dropping the drinks whilst texting someone. Jeongguk breezes forward to relieve him, taking his carton and pressing the cool plastic to his boyfriend’s face, “Hi.” Startling a little at the chill Jimin pushes him away in mock annoyance. “Dumbass.” Jeongguk goofily grins. Walking the night feels steady, refreshing milk travelling down Jeongguk’s throat revitalising his energy. They’re both silent, stepping in sync. Looking over to Jimin he wonders if he should risk the chance of being rejected. Jimin’s gulping down strawberry milk when Jeongguk decides to huddle closer, smiling a bit creepily that he just stares dubiously trying to telepathically figure out what he’s thinking. Then something tentatively brushes against his hand. Peering down he sees Jeongguk’s hand swaying near his. He keeps watching as a long pinkie loops around his, interlocking uncertainly. Usually it would be Jimin reaching out to Jeongguk’s hand as soon as possible, never letting go until they make it home. Jeongguk wanted to change that. Slow smile graces Jimin’s face, going to clutch onto it tighter and tugging a little to tell Jeongguk it’s okay. Elated with the contact Jeongguk bunny grins, pulling back on the pinkie so Jimin bumps into his shoulder. The smile never leaves him all the way to his apartment, Yoongi looking at him worried for his creepy younger.-Namjoon and Yoongi are taking a quick break to munch on the takeout Jimin had brought them earlier. Jeongguk usually joins them to discuss whatever they’re working on but he notices Jimin dozing off in the corner with a highlighter streak on his cheek, head flat on the table. Jeongguk’s heart clenches at his tired boyfriend at the ungodly hour of 3AM just for him. Jimin looks so cuddly and soft that he just wants to hug him with showering pecks but he can’t. Instead he moves with his food and sits next to Jimin’s seat. “Minie,” softly he calls out, shaking him gently. “Mmm Ggukie lerve me ‘lone,” Jimin jumbles out. Chuckling lightly he brings his chair closer, “if you’re tired don’t worry about waiting.” He’s rubbing his hand up and down Jimin’s arm slowly till the latter lifts up on his elbow, eyes squinting and lips pursed. “Nah I wanna wait for you babe.” He melts, “okay. Then sleep on my shoulder baby?” Jimin doesn’t even think twice and shuffles closer, instantly knocking out on his shoulder. Jeongguk smiles in happiness as a hand sneaks through his elbow and the smaller voluntarily nuzzles his nose into Jeongguk’s sweater. Throwing his discarded jacket over the other for heat he lets himself rest his head on top of his, taking advantage of the other’s sleepy state.-“TaeTae Hyung…” whisper drenched with hate. “’Sup Gguk?” He’s lying down on Jimin’s lap whilst they’re waiting for Yoongi to pack up from the studio. Jeongguk is sitting on the other end of the sofa near his long limbs. Taehyung has an evil smirk as he wiggles further up on Jimin’s lap causing him to laugh at him because he never suspects his mischief. “Taeee…. Stop being so impatient,” short fingers loaded with rings caress his hair in an attempt for him to stop shifting. “Sorry Jiminie,” twinkling deep tone as Jimin laughs at him. Jeongguk slyly locks a hand around the other’s ankle, grip tightening dangerously and ready to cut the blood flow. Taehyung would be intimidated if he didn’t have the upper hand, moving further up until he’s somehow found himself sitting on his lap, the other’s arms around his waist whilst he continues to text someone. Sniggering at the destroyed expression on Jeongguk he rests his head atop blonde strands, glee evident. Jeongguk breathes in relief when Yoongi decides to finally come out, “fucking took you long enough,” he mutters to himself. Taehyung immediately hops on him, leaving Jeongguk finally some access to his boyfriend. Strolling close by as Jimin carries on texting Jeongguk admires him. His boyfriend looks gorgeous today. Especially because of the denim he’s wearing, making things clap in his mind. Looking a bit like pervert to himself, he daydreams in the clouds about thick thighs barely packed in blue denim, till he realises he’s not allowed to make anything clap yet. Now he’s pouting. “Minie…” he breathlessly whispers near Jimin’s ear, sounding needy. The latter immediately stops in his steps, twisting to face the other biting his lip at the closeness. Jeongguk makes it a point to show the other he notices. “Mmmm?” Jimin watches his eyes wander. “You look lush tonight,” he meets cocoa, smirking as the other’s lids drop a little. “Those jeans, are they new?” “Yeah…?” “They look amazing on you,” he looks up pondering, stroking his chin and humming as Jimin giggles at him. “I was feeling off today but you and those jeans definitely turned me on.” “Shut up Jeongguk,” Jimin’s doubling over in laughter, trying to push the younger away from him. “Actually anything looks good on you baby,” and with that Jimin’s giggles slow down as he shies away from the compliment, “I mean with a ass that fat…” Jimin’s silent. Eyes widening, face flushing vermillion. Yoongi and Taehyung turn around at the loud resounding clap from behind them, worried whether someone fell down. No one fell down. Yoongi breaks the silence, “did you just-“ His boyfriend interrupts him with a half amused half unsurprised face, “clap that?” Jeongguk’s smirking again, casually stepping forward as if he didn’t just slap his boyfriend’s ass so loud that it could have caused an earthquake. - -Jeongguk is slowly edging his way back in, Jimin gradually granting him access. But currently he’s hit a brick wall. Being jealous of Taehyung is one thing. That’s his homie for life. Doesn’t give a shit because it’s all banter. But when it’s someone else he’s ready to start a throw down. Body sweaty, chugging down bottles of water, he sees the fucker from the corner of his eyes. Dance practices have changed somewhat. Jeongguk still helps some people, the one’s who genuinely need his help, and politely rejects those who just want to drool over him, the comparison becoming more evident after his tiff with Jimin. Now he’s started to come a little earlier if he can to just watch Jimin practice with Hoseok before the rest arrive, returning the favour for all the times Jimin’s sat in on him in the studio. Sitting against the floor length mirror he silently admires how his boyfriend loses himself in the rhythm, eyes mesmerised as he follows every spin, roll and lock, only snapping out of his trance when said beautiful boyfriend comes to sit in front of him with a blinding smile. Yet how he’s managed to never come across this too-tall-for-his-malteaser-head, guy is a mystery. It’s only natural for Jeongguk to be jealous when he rushes up to Jimin, his boyfriend, and has the decency to throw him over his shoulder laughing in delight and spinning him around. His boyfriend doesn’t help by clinging onto him and giggling along. The taller needs to remove himself from his man right now or so help him god. “Junhong-ah put me down!!!” “Aww you’re so cute Hyung!” The tall dickhead carries on until Hoseok tells him to stop so they can get back to practice. “How you doing today Hyung? Did you try that other brand? Are you gonna finally agree with me that they have by far the best strawberry milk?” he asks as if it’s the most normal thing on earth. Wait, what? Strawberry milk? Jimin just replies equally unbothered, “I’m good, and fine I admit defeat. It is better than my usual,” they both are sitting next to each other cross legged on the floor, Jimin ruffling his hair like he does with Jeongguk. Well did, because Jeongguk’s still trying to grovel. The other’s head thrown back in laughter, Jimin pouts, “when are you gonna stop growing! You’re so tall and it pisses me off.” Junhong leans in to wipe his sweat on Jimin’s shoulder; gross. “All the better to pick you up with Hyung.” Jimin is all sunshine fucking giggles. “You’re like the perfect size for me.” They’re laughing together, casually flirting and Hoseok only has to do a one take on Jeongguk to start laughing too, but at his expense. This goes on for the two weeks. Every practice they’re too close, playing around and flirting ridiculously whilst Jeongguk sits bristling in his own corner of red. Even sitting impossibly close to Jimin, legs around the latter’s crossed ones as he lays his head against his back trying to catch his breath from behind, doesn’t shoo the annoyingly happy man. Although now it seems that the rest of the group know whom Jimin belongs to. Jeongguk does attempt to give Jimin a peck on the cheek when he notices Junhong running up to him again but Junhong is faster, picking Jimin up again to spin him around. Jeongguk’s ready to fly kick him. By the next practice he has had enough. Junhong decides to stay behind, chatting away with Jimin as if they’re the best of friends. “You’re staring again man,” Hoseok’s sniggering at him, “they’re just friends you know.” “Well I’ve never met this ‘friend’ before.” “Course you haven’t. You were too busy to see your boyfriend.” “That’s low man,” Jeongguk still regrets it. He’s trying really hard to just be back to being boyfriends and it’s maddening. Irritating him to the core to see everyone but him be able to be touch his boyfriend. Now he knows how Jimin must have felt, watching hands on his back as he tries teaching them a complex move, his eyes focused on someone else other than his boyfriend, laughing with another and feeling left out. Every time he sees Jimin with Junhong, all Jeongguk wants to do is kiss him so hard that the taller fucks off. “Ahh I’m sorry little one. Anyway you don’t have to worry about Junhong-ah, he’s a good kid.” Jeongguk scoffs at the statement. They’re nearing the end of the path and Junhong still hasn’t removed himself from Jimin’s side, only getting cosier and pressing into each other as they giggle over whatever. Jeongguk fumes by Hoseok’s side and Hoseok finds it so hilarious that he sends multiple Snapchats to Namjoon of him almost walking into lampposts since he’s so focused on the pair. What makes the situation worse is when Junhong throws an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, pulling him in closer and whispering secretively in his ear as Jimin does the same back. Jeongguk snaps inside. Hoseok getting the message decides to save his younger, grabbing him and waving the other two off as they split. Usually Jeongguk would split with Hoseok, but he’s made it a habit to walk Jimin home whenever he can. They walk in silence, Jimin oblivious and Jeongguk silently seething. “What did you think of the new choreo?” “‘S alright.” “Shall we get some snacks before we study?” “Nah I got some.” “Ahh, looks like Taehyung’s at yours for now so we get the apartment to ourselves!” Jimin’s cheerful. “Mmm.” Jeongguk is not. All the way until they reach Jimin’s dorm he replies minimally, especially when Jimin would randomly bring up Junhong. “Ahh Junhongie’s so funny, guess what happened to him last week-“ “Junhong-ah’s improved a lot since he started, bless him, he’s new so he doesn’t have too many friends-“ “Such a sweet kid and he’s got talent. Did you see him today Ggukie?” They get there quickly, Jeongguk standing behind Jimin as he goes to unlock the door. Twisting around he grins at Jeongguk, still unaware of the other’s state, “which hoodie looks better?” Shoving his phone into the younger’s face to see the two options. “Junhongie said the black one since he has the same one-“ Jeongguk grits his teeth at the mention of the offending name, “maybe you should just listen to Junhong Hyung. You’re always falling off him, clinging onto him like you belong together, so why not complete it with couple hoodies,” Jeongguk sneers. That gets Jimin’s attention, eyes searching his face, “is everything okay?” “Yes.” Short. “Okay but-” Jimin reaches out for him but Jeongguk doesn’t see him. Instead he turns away from it and childishly storms into the apartment, dropping his backpack with a force onto the couch. Since they’re supposed to be having a study date tonight, Jeongguk insisting on them after cutting down his partying with the soccer team to once a week, he yanks all his books out, flinging them onto the coffee table. “Don’t you wanna take a shower?” That stops him in his crashing and banging, bending down to sniff himself, reminding him how his sweat smells rank. “Guess you’d like to go first?” Nodding Jeongguk stands up and rushes to the bathroom, not paying attention to the smaller staring at him intensely. Jeongguk just needs to blow off some steam that’s all. Totally not jealous when he hears Jimin on the phone- “Hey Junhong-ah! Wait, what? Hmmm I think I have an idea…” - -Jamming to some music, headphones on full blast with some old school Kanye he almost tears the pages of his textbook as he flicks through. Why? Because that stupid, dumbass, blonde is here at Jimin’s apartment, sitting right next to his boyfriend whose just come out of the shower dripping wet and whispering mysteriously. So you can see why Jeongguk almost breaks his highlighter every time he glances over to them. He’s chilling in a position that only someone like Jeongguk would. Upside down, head on the floor facing the ceiling as the rest of his body is hanging off the arm of the couch, legs over the armrest balancing him. Jeongguk reasons this way he won’t keep checking up on the pair, neck aching in protest if he turned to look for too long. He still looks though. He keeps his calm until the idiot leaves, daring to say goodbye to him too. “Bye Jeongguk!” a large hand coming down to ruffle his hair with a silly smile. Jeongguk’s got imaginary knives on standby, ready to cut out Junhong’s eyes. If he wasn’t so busy plotting Junhong’s murder he may have seen Jimin snigger in the corner at him. Giving his boyfriend a massive bear hug and rubbing his face all over his hair he finally leaves. What is he a dog? Taehyung’s one thing but who’s this guy? Fucking- Dropping his head back down to the ground he carries on ripping through pages and abusing highlighters. Headphones still plugged in he doesn’t hear the giggles near him, only registering Jimin’s presence when he feels a foot nudge one of his. Titters still try to escape as he gives Jeongguk’s position a once over, trying to find him with his eyes but failing because of his awkward position. “Ggukie…” “Mmmm?” he turns back to his reading, pretending as if he gets what the last fifteen pages have been talking about. Jimin pokes him again, “are you jealous?” “No.” “I think you are.” “No I’m not.” “Yes you are.” “Fine I am. It’s not fair!” he’s sulking again, using the textbook to over his face, “he get’s to hug you, touch you and- and ugh! He annoys me, he’s too close for his own good.” Jimin smiles at his pouting boyfriend, enjoying his childish tantrum. “Does he not realise you have a boyfriend? Why is he grabbing you and spinning you as if he’s allowed to. Can he not just fuck off?” Jimin bites his lip, trying to not just roll on the floor laughing. On the other hand Jeongguk carries on moping, “it’s just not fair. It’s jarring to see everyone else with you but me. I want my boyfriend. I miss my boyfriend…” Since Jimin doesn’t say anything Jeongguk carries on angrily highlighting, not really knowing what he’s underlining. Jimin crawls from the other side of the couch to Jeongguk’s side, opening his legs to get in between them and closer to see his boyfriend. Resting on his elbows he smiles when he feels thighs enclose around him instinctively. Looking down he admires the view, feathery coffee hair, muscular body hidden under a branded black tee and strong legs flexing at the angle. “Didn’t I tell you? Junhong-ah goes out with Daehyun Hyung. You know that Hyung that went to the same school as me?” A cheshire grin graces his face once he see’s Jeongguk’s eyebrows twitch, textbook finally revealing his reddening face slowly. “What?” “Yeah, they’ve been going out for a while but he’s only recently moved to the city. He doesn’t have any friends here you know so I thought I should try for Hyung. I’ve been helping him plan their anniversary,” his grin only gets wider as Jeongguk gapes at him like a fish. “Tssh babe you were doing so well,” done with appreciating the view he journeys down carefully, mirth in his smirk as he plants his weight on his elbows right by Jeongguk’s head. Jeongguk is motionless, doe eyes big with bafflement. Prying his textbook from his fingers he chucks it away, lowering his head a couple of inches from Jeongguk’s lips as he whispers, “you’re gonna give up that easily? I’m a little disappointed babe…” Warm breath hits Jeongguk full force, heart rate racing with the close proximity, giving him no space to cool down. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. Two fucking weeks and finally he’s this close. Jeongguk is shook. Teasing Jimin gazes down pleased with his result and begins to move back up to his original position. Jeongguk isn’t going to let him. With a yelp Jimin flies forward suddenly, tugged back down by the front of his shirt, Jeongguk’s lips crash landing with passionate devotion. FINALLY. Resting on his palms, Jimin smiles happily into the kiss as Jeongguk immediately begins to search for his tongue in frantic need. Relentless, warm muscle slides across Jimin’s bottom lip, teeth biting faint dents onto plump pink and dragging it into the others mouth until Jimin allows him access with an inaudible sigh. Not realising how unstable they both are, Jeongguk recklessly pulls Jimin further down, too busy to care because he’s finally kissing him in his arms, high on the breathtakingly urgent love moving through them, body lifting up closer. The smaller also doesn’t seem to care as he moves his hands to grab around to hold Jeongguk’s hips, grip tightening as the latter kisses along his jaw until he reaches the sweet spot under his ear, large hands roaming over his newly exposed back from leaning down. Panting Jimin presses further forward until he looses balance, squealing when his legs fall off the arm of the couch. But Jeongguk’s got him. Jeongguk’s always got him. Noticing the oncoming fall he encases him in his arms, holding him close and rolling them over. Jimin laughs into his neck, fingers clutching onto his hem and Jeongguk laughs with him, exhilarated to feel the vibrations along his chest again. It’s been way too long. Attacking his neck Jeongguk keeps Jimin laughing breathlessly until he uses his fingers to pull him away. “Babbbyyy whyyyy??” Chuckling, “I think I like pouty Jeongguk a lot.” Chastely he pecks him, grinning when the other chases him again. “Babe you need to finish studying diligently like you was though.” “Nooooooo,” he burrows into Jimin’s neck, sneaking a few kisses along his column. Sunshine laughter has him smiling into the skin, skimming the area with a few more pecks, relief washing over him that they’re finally back to normal. Jeongguk secures his hold on his man. Mumbling into Jimin’s neck, “besides it’s date night,” he faces up to Jimin, “I kinda planned something.” Brushing away some stray bangs Jimin meets his bunny grin, “something?” “I know we didn’t get to finish the box set last time, and I hated feeling like I ruined the series you love so much, I thought maybe we could carry on? Promise my phone is on airplane mode. I even bought you’re favourite strawberry ice cream! You know with the vanilla swirls?” Excitedly he pecks Jimin waiting for his response. “Sounds like a date Ggukie.” “Minie.” “Yeah babe?” “You know you’re all I need baby.” Jimin starts peppering his face persistently until Jeongguk has to pull him off to actually start the movie. - -After grabbing a couple of blankets, Jimin walks in with some ice cream for both of them in mini cups. Excitedly he sits down beside Jeongguk giddy with happiness as well as hype for the movie marathon. A burning stare from his side causes him to swivel, raising his eyebrows in question at the dissatisfied expression Jeongguk is wearing. “Something wrong?” “Yeah.” With that he yanks him by the arm, dragging him onto his lap and settling his body comfortably against his chest, legs tangled. Jimin just laughs at him. “Obsessed?” “Nah, just devoted,” triumphant at the blush adorning Jimin’s cheek whilst he slaps his arm, going to reach for the remote to press play. In the beginning Jeongguk was focused, chatting here and there about the movie to an eager Jimin, adoring the excited twinkle in his boyfriend’s eyes. “Slytherin seems like a dope house to be in.“ “Of course you would think that.” Jimin turns in his arms with mock thought, “You know I always thought Draco was way hotter than Harry.” “You like that evil type huh?” “Yeah evil and whiney. Just like my boyfriend- owwww,” Jeongguk pinches his sides, apologetically rubbing them soothingly afterwards when Jimin looks at him faking hurt. Sadly he ends up getting bored. Taehyung wasn’t lying when he said Harry Potter was dry. But Jimin loves it so he’s cool with just distracting himself and focusing on his boyfriend. However Jimin doesn’t agree with his distractions. Hands gradually roaming up and down, nosing along tufts of hair. “Ggukie… move.” Jeongguk pouts. Slowly nestling his face into his neck, breathing in citrus and nose tickling the other. “Babe…” Jeongguk huffs. Fingers flittering to caress his boyfriend’s front, nosing along his nape. “Stop distracting me babe.” Jeongguk frowns. Truthfully he should be on his best behaviour since it was his fault they didn’t finish the marathon before, causing them to get into a mess. However he also just got Jimin back and there’s so much time he needs to make up for. Plus it doesn’t help that his boyfriend’s body is finally touching him, familiar warmth buzzing through, hair still slightly damp from his shower and citrus scent overriding his nose. Not to mention the struggle when he decides to wiggle and seat himself more comfortably into Jeongguk, wonderfully round, bubble butt pushed up against him the right way. Jeongguk really can’t help himself. Hands not willing to stop touching his boyfriend everywhere, he goes to nuzzle the back of his neck again, inhaling deep and sighing in content. It’s only when he begins nosing down his throat, feeling the slight movement of a swallow, does the idea come to him. Jimin licks the strawberry ice cream off his spoon, sucking it in his mouth a little while watching the screen immersed. A smidge of cream is left on the corner of his mouth, a smear of pink on the bottom lip too where he had dragged the spoon slowly. Jimin goes to swipe it with his tongue. Damp, glistening patch left over. Jeongguk’s thirsty. Grabbing his own ice cream from the corner where he left it, he ‘accidentally’ lets a little fall from his spoon onto Jimin’s exposed shoulder, white top barely missing the baby pink droplet. Jimin shivers at the chilling dribble on his shoulder, squirming away from him. Jeongguk doesn’t actually like strawberry ice cream. But on Jimin, it’s his favourite flavour. “Oops Minie. Hold up let me clean that.” Making it a point, his lips travel lightly along his nape, biting on the honey skin under his ear faintly. Satisfied with hearing Jimin inhale deeply he chuckles softly into his ear before roaming further south to beautiful, soft skin. Tongue flicking out, he laves up the fruity, saccharine flavour craving more. Lips attaching in need he hungrily sucks, pulling on the flesh with his teeth and finishing the remnants with fluttering kisses. Jeongguk’s smiling as he feels Jimin barely tremble from the contrasting temperatures, body melting like the cream in his mouth. “J-Jeongguk…” stuttering in warning Jimin tries to move away. “Mmmm… you okay there baby?“ Jimin turns to glower and keeps attempting to move his body forward but is held back by an arm around his front, effectively keeping him grounded in Jeongguk’s lap. Giving up he just slaps him on his chest. “Hands off.” “If you say so,” he mutters into the blonde’s soft locks. Now that he’s started he can’t seem to stop scattering kisses everywhere, the smaller writhing away so he can concentrate. Unsurprisingly Jimin’s warning does nothing to Jeongguk, this time intentionally spreading a long streak of cream down his neck. “Ahhhh…” Jeongguk’s tongue devours its way up the line, kissing backing downwards, strawberry and vanilla swirling in an explosion of creamy flavour inside his mouth. Jimin tremors in response to hungry lips, almost forgetting the movie once his body bends further into Jeongguk’s. He utters something muddled that Jeongguk can’t make out. “What’s that baby?” he murmurs against the sticky skin, peppering kisses in between his words. “Fuck you.” Breathless. Chuckling victoriously into his nape he takes it as a sign to keep going. Never stopping the wet kisses, he bends them both forward so he can place his ice cream on the coffee table, taking Jimin’s away too. His eyes are fully closed now; movie completely forgotten and mouth open feeling like Jeongguk’s suspended him in the air. Small hand tangles up into his hair, forcibly sitting forward still once Jeongguk’s free hand journeys its way south to palm his gradually, growing bulge through fabric, applying pressure as Jimin dry whines, needy for more. His face turns involuntarily towards Jeongguk’s, heavy breaths warming Jeongguk’s temple while the latter kisses up his jaw, eyelashes fluttering at every suck. Then Jeongguk goes to the ice cream, scooping some onto his fingers and guiding them to his mouth. “Baby…” Half lidded eyes drift at the low octave, turning to come face to face with lustful eyes, purposely looking into his own as he rests the fingers on his bottom lip. Jimin gets the hint, swirling his tongue upwards against the pads before deliberately taking them in, candied milk deliciously flowing through his mouth as he sucks on them hard, tongue gliding across every inch for the sugary flavour. Jeongguk groans at the sight, carnal need bubbling below as he hardens watching Jimin milk his fingers eagerly and never breaking eye contact with him. “Shit.” He bites onto his man’s shoulder, trying to hold it in as a groan pulsates against his fingers. Still watching him, Jeongguk moves his other hand into the waistband, answering Jimin’s whimpering at the material blocking full pleasure, fabric not pressing enough. Skin on skin contact makes him throw his head back, baring the rest of his golden skin that Jeongguk hasn’t even touched. Stroking him languidly, throbbing in satisfaction, he watches Jimin twist around, thumbing the slit on the upstroke, gathering the slowly leaking precum and taking his time to press just enough to hear Jimin moan muffled around his fingers. Jeongguk watches with fascinated eyes, his boyfriend still lapping enthusiastically, tongue slitting between his fingers to make sure he gets the cream trapped in there, saliva trickling down. “Fuck… you’re so hot baby.” Turning around Jimin faces him. Eyes begging as large palms are going too slow for him, purposefully rolling with skill into Jeongguk’s strokes. Getting the idea as he picks up the pace, “anything for you Minie,” he’s dedicated to make sure Jimin feels good, show him how much he appreciates Jimin’s love, “always anything for you baby.” He picks up the pace, Jimin following his stead, grabbing onto his arms to back up on him, wanting to make sure Jeongguk also is cared for. Jimin begins rocking with dancer precision, ass rotating and whining steady. He stutters on the upstroke, “shhiit…” Sliding his fingers out he snakes them under Jimin’s top, fluttering up his stomach before going to his hardening nipples, rubbing the nubs with the sticky cream and Jimin’s spit, flicking intermittently in time with his bites. Jimin goes mental, “Jeo- ahhhhh-babee-“ Jeongguk’s too busy to answer straight away, painting Jimin’s throat with bites, licking the supple skin into his mouth before nipping, harshly tugging on it and sucking till he’s pleased with the vermillion burning against honey. Oozing precum makes the slide smoother and faster, Jeongguk ever so often moving to fondle with his balls too, lost in the heavenly noises coming from the other’s mouth, slippery sounds making a messy melody. “Wanna make you feel so good Minie… show you how much I really appreciate you. I fucking love you, you know that right?” open mouthed kisses slow down in their intensity, contrasting with the slick noises coming from below, “only you. So tell me what you want baby.” Too busy swinging his hips in rhythm to Jeongguk’s hand, he doesn’t answer properly; head reclining as he feels faint pinches on his nipples. But the feeling is gone, hand falling away and Jimin sobs in protest. Using that same hand to grab his chin, Jeongguk drags him around to face him, foreheads touching, Jimin’s pants hitting his face as Jeongguk doesn’t stop or slow down, the former hissing as he spends more time on the head. “Whatever you want baby? Tell me what you want. You deserve it all beautiful,” and Jimin whines at the love, Jeongguk looking at him like he’s the only one, his home, his everything. Chastely kissing him even though sinfully shameless noises surround them. Jimin needs to kiss him and so he does, hand sliding down from his hair, cupping his face as he finally pushes onto cushy lips, puffy from its abuse and enters the other’s warm cavern, licking his way around desperately. Jeongguk slows down, pulling back so Jimin can answer him. “Min-“ “Blow me.” Jeongguk smirks. “With pleasure.” Lifting Jimin up he slides out, a complaining whinge coming from the latter as his palm withdraws. Laughing Jeongguk doesn’t leave him hanging, hovering over so he can take Jimin’s bottom lip out of his own teeth and into Jeongguk’s, raucous kisses as lips smack wet and thirsty. Before he gets caught up on Jimin’s lips as usual he goes back to his main task, slow kisses making their way down his previous bites, relishing in the way a small fingers clutch his shoulders as he marks a couple of new ones along his previously hidden collarbones. Dropping to his knees he tugs Jimin’s sweatpants off, mouthing at the straining, damp patch that has formed in his boxers, breathe ghosting, teasing with a few kittenish licks before swiftly kissing down his erection. Jimin whimpers as Jeongguk continues his kisses down to his second favourite place, Jimin’s thighs. Thick, sculpted, curved delectably Jeongguk thinks as they mould against his every kiss, skin pliant where his lips push. Getting some ice cream from behind, he uses the back of the spoon to paint some onto the insides, Jimin shivering at the coolness and then mewling loudly once Jeongguk greedily laps it all up, hand coming to hold Jimin’s thigh in place as it tries to close him in. “Jeongguk.” Prayerful. Fucking hot. “Mmmm?” Jeongguk proceeds to do the same on the other side, worshipping his thighs with every kiss and every bite, devouring each creamy streak and caressing them gently. Teasing he travels all the way up where his boxer material starts, seeing the hope in Jimin’s eyes before gliding back down to the meaty flesh. “Jeonggu- fuck… pleas-ahh,” Jimin can’t wait any longer, he needs Jeongguk on him now. “Babe please…” Leaving one last swift kiss on his last bite he obeys, more than keen to make sure his man gets what he wants. “I got you baby,” he pulls down Jimin’s boxers inch by inch, kissing every part that reveals itself, thighs quivering at each one under his palm, dripping precum glossing his lips. Throwing away the underwear god knows where, Jeongguk pecks his inner thigh, tapping it with his palm. “Up Minie.” Jimin doesn’t need further instructions, raising his left thigh to hook around Jeongguk’s neck bringing him closer to his pulsing cock. Jeongguk’s got more strawberry ice cream on his tongue this time, flattening it against the reddening length. A fat strip licks its way from the bottom to the underside, a loud groan ripping from Jimin’s throat, body trembling and back arching with the cold against his skin. Using the rest of the cream he tongues at the slit, Jimin’s fingers fastening desperately onto cushions, breathe cut short as the sweet syrup has Jeongguk vigorously sucking on his head. Looking back down he meets doe eyes staring right back up, making a show of his lips stretching over his length, taking him in lazily and spreading willingly to the girth. Until he drops further down in rapid motion, swallowing. “F-f-f-fucckkk… shit, bab-ahhhh” his hand finds it’s way into coffee hair, grabbing on as the other starts sucking skilfully, hand coming up to massage his ball sack before stroking the rest of Jimin’s length that he can’t get to. Jimin can’t keep it in anymore, the fiery need scorching in his groin. “Fuck your mouth fee-ahh- so-o-ughhh fuck, fuck, fuck,” both hands tighten and pull the more Jeongguk keeps bobbing his head, swallowing further and further down, hand on his thigh squeezing as it locks stronger around his neck, trapping him. Noticing Jimin vocally growing louder, fingers tugging desperately and eyes closed, he picks up speed. “Yes baby…” Trembling thighs clamp down harder as Jimin begins to inch towards his climax, Jeongguk’s eyes starting to water when he subconsciously rocks his hips upwards lost in ecstasy. Wanting to please and encouraged by the resounding moans of bliss, Jeongguk relaxes his jaw and milks him. Seeing the tears Jimin tries to slow down, hands loosening but Jeongguk immediately tugs them back, trying to hint that he’s okay. “C-can I- shit- Can I fuck you face babe? P-please?” Coming off for a quick breather, tongue swirling around his head and stroking in slow motion, he murmurs against his cock breathily, “like I said, anything for you baby.” And with that he goes straight back down, taking as much as he can until he feels him in the back of his throat. Tears falling he groans, trying not to gag as Jimin loses all control, desperate for release and sobbing at the warm pressure around his dick, wrecked from the way he deepthroats him like he can’t breathe. Small hands back in his hair hold on tight as he thrusts upwards, cock slamming into Jeongguk’s throat as he fucks mercilessly for his release. Jeongguk lets him. Breathing through his nose and encouraging him with a vibrating moan every time Jimin hits the back, hand on his thigh finding it’s way to Jimin’s ass cheek to caress. “F-fuck, fuck. J-ahh shit your mouth. Fuck baby you look s-uhh- fuck,” Jimin’s shaking as he thrusts faster, forcing himself to keep eye contact with Jeongguk’s teary ones, watching his cock disappear into his mouth with every pounding. “I-uh-I’m gonna cum-m...” Jeongguk moans around him again trying to go deeper and fondling Jimin’s balls, flattening his tongue and doing his best to suck. It’s the combination of Jeongguk’s mouth vibrating against his dick as he watches it slam inside and Jeongguk’s wide eyes never leaving his that finally throws him off into euphoric bliss. “Jeongguk, Jeongguk, Jeongguk…” he chants his name like a mantra, climax wracking through him in currents and crashing his nerves whilst holding his head down on his dick. Jeongguk swallows it all, tears streaming as he allows him to keep riding his orgasm out in his mouth until he loosens his fingers and melts into the couch, blissed out. As soon as he can Jeongguk takes a deep breath, coughing a little from his abused throat and looking over to see Jimin glowing. It’s a breathtaking view. With the hands he still has in Jeongguk’s hair he pulls him up sluggishly, thigh unhooking from his neck down to his hips as Jeongguk moves up to face him. He goes to say something but Jimin shuts him up with the gentlest kiss they’ve had for a while, one hand softly carding through his hair and the other caressing his neck apologetically. Smiling into the kiss Jeongguk hums as Jimin wraps around him, always clingy after an orgasm. In response he rubs his sides, as if to reassure him he’s never leaving his side. Jimin’s breathing hard as he grins up at him, tenderness brimming in his eyes as he goes to kiss all over his boyfriend’s face, taking away the tears, until one, something hard rubs against his thigh as Jeongguk let’s out a breathy moan and two- “What the bloody hell was that?” They both turn to see Ron Weasley’s shocked face on the screen and Jimin can’t help but laugh, pulling Jeongguk further against him as he giggles into his neck. Jeongguk would be laughing too if it weren’t for the pressing problem that’s really testing his patience at the moment. “Errr... bab-by,” voice husky and cracking from the overuse. “Yeah?” Jeongguk starts grinding down on Jimin’s thigh involuntarily, unable to help himself. “Bedroom babe?” “Fucking yes,” and Jimin laughs harder, arms wound around Jeongguk’s neck and thighs hook around his waist as he picks him up to stride over to his room. Wanting to return the favour Jimin begins his own row of rough kisses down Jeongguk’s throat, the younger all but throwing him onto the bed and climbing over with a purpose. Five minutes later, the headboard bangs ferociously against the wall as Taehyung’s Pokémon collection falls from the other side. - -Thank fuck for closing the curtains last night. No sunshine to blind Jimin when he wakes up. Though he does miss the sunrays that would normally warm him up. Shirtless body shivering, he wills his eyes open to search for a t-shirt. Finding a black one flung on the floor he rolls over, stretching his body awkwardly with minimal effort in order to reach it without having to get out of bed. Throwing it over himself, loose and comfy he rolls back onto his pillow, arms and legs spread wide while sighing at the pleasant burn running through him. Thoughts travel back to last night, words of affection making him laugh shyly to himself, body wriggling with his giggles to the memories. He turns his head to the side looking at the root of those words, sleeping on his stomach, coffee coloured hair dishevelled and selfishly snuggled under the duvet on his own. No wonder Jimin was cold. Rolling again onto his stomach, he moves to get closer to the resting figure, fingers combing through tousled locks as it snores faintly, bunny teeth peaking through his open mouth. Jimin’s heart warms, taking in how carefree and relaxed his normally stressed boyfriend looks. No worries of reality wrinkling his face, innocent and drooling. “Pssht and you tell Tae off for drooling everywhere,” he mutters quietly to not wake him. Lying down on his side, eyes’ not leaving the other’s squished face, he slides nearer, slithering his arm around his neck, fingers drifting south to tickle the hair at his nape. Jimin cherishes the view, grinning whenever Jeongguk fidgets, until he hears something clattering in the kitchen, shouting resonating into his room. “I’m gonna kill that fucking tawt.” “Tae-“ “No Yoongi. No. Did you see Pikachu’s horrified face??” Sighing Jimin gently leans over to peck Jeongguk’s temple, sweeping feathery bangs back, before getting up to make amends. - -“Say sorry to him now.” “Tae are you kid-“ “Shut up. Say sorry.” Yoongi laughs in the corner when Jimin glances at him with a ‘save me please’, shaking his head with a ‘nope’. “Yeah Jimin, apologise to Pikachu.” “Well done darling,” he kisses Yoongi on the cheek before returning to the pressing matter at hand. “Come on I will buy you another-“ “I said shut up and say sorry.” Taehyung is unforgiving. Course he’s happy his best friends have finally made up but that gave them no right to literally fuck his Pokémon collection to the floor. Imagine his shock to walk in and see his Pikachu figurine half cracked, eye busted and scarred. Fucking furious. Exhaling Jimin admits defeat, “I’m sorry.” “Nope. He doesn’t deserve a pussy apology. Say it like you mean it.” He’s about to protest when Yoongi, although laughing before, gives him a threatening look. Sadly the effect of Taehyung pouting on his Hyung is scary. “Okay. I’m truly, absolutely sorry Pikachu and will make sure my stupid, horny boyfriend apologises to you too.” Taehyung seems satisfied. “Brilliant.” Jimin rolls his eyes, carrying on with making milk tea for all of them, the pair in front chatting away their plans with him. “Who’s a stupid boyfriend?” A hoarse voice interrupts them. Shirtless, Jeongguk stands at the doorframe with just a pair of soccer shorts on, yawning and rubbing his nose. Jimin purrs inwardly. Taehyung looks at him horrified. Okay maybe that wasn’t in his head. Yoongi replies, “you apparently,” his hands playing with Taehyung’s as Jeongguk still looks on in drowsy bafflement. Pulling his hands away, Taehyung dutifully shoves Pikachu’s jacked up head in his face, “apologise. Now.” “Shut up.” “Well your boyfriend promised. So now apologise.” Taehyung turns to Yoongi with a whiney look, lower lip pushing out sulking. “Apologise Gguk.” “Yoongi Hyung are you fucking serio- okay fine. I’m sorry.” Yoongi slits his eyes with murder, canons ready to fire behind his boyfriend if he dared disobey him. Everyone assumed Jeongguk would always win in a fight against the older, but frankly, he’d rather be slapped for the rest of his life than run his mouth to Yoongi. “Nope Jeonggukie, not enough.” Huffing, “I’m sorry Pikachu and I promise to pay for your reparations.” Taehyung smiles in victory. Yoongi smiles at his joy. Jimin just laughs and returns back to pouring back the tea into mugs. It’s only when he hears the sunshine laughter does he notice his boyfriend, lips tugging into a smile when he sees him radiating in Jeongguk’s black tee, engulfing his smaller but dench body. Once he hands the tea to the other two, Jeongguk walks over to stand behind him. Jimin had already sensed him coming over, hand moving behind him to reach out to the other. He responds instinctively by coming closer, causing Jimin’s hand to slide along his hipbone. Jeongguk places one hand on his waist, the other snaking under his front, fingernails scratching tenderly, goofily smiling after kissing him on the head and settling his head on his shoulder. “Morning Minie.” Whispering back just as airily, “morning Ggukie.” Realising there’s nothing stopping him anymore he starts kissing a line along last night’s marks on his shoulder revealed by the baggy top. Sensitive to the touch, Jimin timidly tries to push him away giggling. But Jeongguk just clings onto him, following Jimin’s face as he tries moving his head away from him and to the side, chuckling into the pecks he sprinkles under his jaw. “Ugh I’m too much of a good friend.” Taehyung glances at Yoongi whose busy sipping on the frothy tea oblivious. After doing another once over to the now loved up couple he snatches his tea away from him, standing before him with his infamous pout. One hand interlocking, “Yoongi darling,” the other looks at him confused, watching him play with the buttons on his grey button down, popping the top one open. Taehyung looks back up seductively, “fuck me?” Yoongi asks no questions and drags him out of the apartment. Jimin and Jeongguk don’t hear the door closing. Jeongguk too busy chasing Jimin’s face and Jimin too busy squirming away from his lips. “Ggukie go away,” playfully he tries pulling his hands away from under his top. “Mmm… nah baby,” instead he turns him in his arms, hip digging into the counter and goes to attack his neck. Jeongguk kisses everywhere and anywhere, paying close attention to the marks he left over, lazily laving at them in apology after abusing them last night. Tiny hands rest against his chest, head thrown back to release more melodious laughter as the kisses wander up to his jaws, slyly making movements to his ears where Jeongguk knows his sweet spot is. Before he can get there, Jimin stills him with hands on his cheeks, “you’re cute when you’re clingy.” “What do you mean? I’m always cute,” he mumbles, turning his head to peck Jimin’s inner palm quickly, unable to resist the opportunity. Rolling his eyes Jimin objects, “no, you’re always manly Jeongguk about to conquer the world with his golden wings. It’s nice seeing you all soft.” “Only for you.” Jimin blushes. “Minie?” “Yeah babe?” Jeongguk gazes into cocoa eyes, devoted and smitten for the gorgeous man in his arms. Never wanting to come down from the high of loving Jimin. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you go.” “Be careful with what you say Ggukie. I won’t let be letting you go for a long time,” a silent, subtle promise of the future edging into his words. Jimin knows they’ve not been together for long yet, but they have been friends for years and to be honest, all he really needs is a best friend supporting, and loving him. They may not survive, grow bored, lose the fluttering feelings and turn away from each other. But for now, nothing can replace Jeongguk. Bunny grinning, Jeongguk thinks the same. “Fine by me baby.” “Confident you can handle it babe?” Instead of answering he descends down onto luscious lips, soft when they meet and pliant as he licks them to a shiny sheen. Smiling into it, Jimin winds his arms around his neck, dragging him down further and giving way to his tongue, Jeongguk exploring greedily. Drawing away, he begins sneaking back to his ear, kisses trailing from the edge of his grinning mouth and up his jaw. Before Jeongguk can get there Jimin distracts him with a hand sneaking its way to his taut stomach, tickling the sculpted muscle in a languid motion. That gets Jeongguk to stop, gesture lulling him back into a sleepy Sunday state, sighing under his jaw relaxed. Using his opportunity, Jimin escapes his hold, grinning when Jeongguk turns to look at him distraught. “Minie?” “If I let you near me I’m never gonna make breakfast and we’re never going to finish our work,” he smiles as the other pouts, moving along the opposite side of the counter to the fridge in hopes of some food. “Of course you can,” and as if to prove his point he circles the counter to near him, arms outstretched. Jimin reverses, moving away to Jeongguk’s despair. “No you won’t babe.” “I promise I will behave baby,” small hands almost within reach. Jimin shakes his head, steps growing larger as he retreats, “like last night?” Stopping Jeongguk smirks, “didn’t hear you complaining?” Sensing the upcoming chase he looks left and right, trying to suss out which way Jimin would run. Knowing the other he would try going for something obvious before backtracking the other way so Jeongguk lunges right. Unluckily he doesn’t think of the third suggestion. Jimin running at him. As Jeongguk falls to the side, Jimin swerves around him, turning back to laugh at his surprised boyfriend, running to the couch with the other hot in his heels. They do about seven roundabouts around the couch before they both are panting heavily, testing to see which way the other will run. Jimin is at the disadvantage, having no way to run behind and Jeongguk knows. “Baby there’s no reason for us to be sweating this early in the morning,” smirking victoriously, “unless you’re trying to tell me something?” “Shut up pervert, I know you’re tryna go back to bed so you can just sleep.” “Who said anything about sleeping?” Testing his luck, Jimin risks it and runs to his left but Jeongguk has the advantage, grabbing him as soon as he tries to shoot past. Gym sessions proving their worth, he throws him over his shoulder with ease and marches straight to Jimin’s room. His boyfriend holds on for balance, arms circling his front upside down for safety. “See I knew it!! Jeongguk let go, we got assignments to finish-” “Baby its 10am, we got ages and plus I got so much lost time to make up for,” walking up to the bed he flings him back down ungracefully, climbing up to hover on top. With Jimin’s hands pinned up by Jeongguk’s he finally has the chance to kiss him unrestricted, aiming straight for under his ear, open mouthed kisses having him squirm underneath him. Having enough fun there, Jimin’s breathless sighs echoing off the walls he goes to his earrings, tonguing at them and rocking down into his body in a barely there roll. It gets Jimin worked up a little, hands loosening in their fight and cheeks tinting fuchsia as his own hips ride upwards. Getting the result he intended Jeongguk flops down, body trapping him, arms encircling his waist and snuggling around him like a koala bear with his head settled on his chest, “nap time baby.” Jimin looks like he wants to backhand him, “are you kidding me?” He pushes him off, flipping them around immediately ass seated on his stomach, as Jeongguk looks at him in mock innocence. “Ride me?”
10145681	The One Where Wade Gets	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Wade Wilson, Deadpool", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by thefatedthoughtofyou", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-06T00:00:00", "words": "290", "Additional Tags": "it was rainy here and i needed to write some rainy things, so here's a little tiny thing for you all, sambuckypool, Cuddling, Snuggling, wade is stuggling with some things, but its internal, but his boys got his back", "Relationship": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes/Sam Wilson/Wade Wilson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "SamBuckyPool Ficlets", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Marvel Cinematic Universe, Deadpool (2016)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "M/M, Multi", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	There’s something about rainy days that makes Wade quiet. Bucky doesn’t know what it is, Sam doesn’t either, and neither of them really want to ask. Not because they don’t care, but because if Wade wanted to tell them, he’d tell them. So they wait. On days when it rains, and the clouds are dark and grey, and the world seems a little bit less hectic, they settle down on the couch with Wade. Making sure that he’s squeezed between them nice snug, Wade’s favorite blanket draped over themselves. And they watch stupid movies all day. Sam getting up now and then to get them food, Bucky getting up to change movies. Both of them making sure Wade eats. Bucky started the cuddling first. He pulled Wade down farther than he was already slumped and kind of, tangled himself around the unusually quiet man. Wade had hummed happily and moved his hand to rest on Bucky’s head, his fingers moving gently in Bucky’s hair. Sam had smiled down at them and then pushed closer, draping his arm over both of them and resting his head against Wade’s, kissing him quickly before resting his temple on him. Wade had made another small noise and relaxed into what Bucky and Sam called a Wade puddle. They’d stayed like that all day. Just relaxing into each other and being lazy, hardly moving unless they had too. Keeping Wade company for whatever he was going through in his scattered, fast moving thoughts. So, on days when it rains, they can be found on the couch, or in their bed, snuggling up to Wade. Making sure he feels safe, making sure he feels loved, and making sure that he never, ever, runs out of tacos.
10181198	Capsaicin	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Lance (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron), Allura (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Pidge (Voltron), Keith (Voltron), Coran (Voltron), With guest appearances by, Kolivan (Voltron), Antok (Voltron)", "Fandom": "Voltron: Legendary Defender", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by phoenixyfriend", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "6,237", "Additional Tags": "Alcohol, Forced Alcohol Consumption, Attempted Poisoning, Poisoning, Capsaicin, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Drunk Lance (Voltron), Lance is a chilihead pass it on, Underage Drinking", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Team - Relationship", "Series": "Altea May Have Been Space Australia, But Humans are the Weird Ones", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It was Lance who stayed behind in an attempt to shoot out a communications tower that could bring down Galra reinforcements on the base before the team could recover enough to fight them off. It was Lance who actually did shoot it out, saving the team and keeping the Galra not only on-planet but with no way to signal for help. It was Lance who got captured.It was Lance who needed to be rescued.“Pidge?” Shiro demanded, pacing the room. It was his fifth time asking in the last fifteen minutes.“Nothing yet,” she answered, not even complaining about the interruption.The downed communications tower meant the Galra on-planet couldn’t signal for help, but it also meant that Pidge was having difficulty hacking in remotely. And until the lions recovered from the battle, they couldn’t all just storm the planet either. The Galra didn’t have enough fighters left to take on Voltron, but they did have enough to take on a couple of individual lions and a castle ship with a barrier that only worked some of the time.“Hurry.”o.o.o.o.o“There are… records, of your team’s previous encounters with our interrogators,” the Galra said, standing almost casually at the front of the room, eyes cast downwards towards the paper file in their hands.Lance, strapped to a chair, said nothing, just raised an eyebrow.“You, in particular, have been noted to swing between wildly talkative about nothing of use and utterly silent. An interesting plan, the former, but utterly useless. You’ve also proven resistant to out more common torture methods, if only because you speak nonsense instead of actual information.” The Galra snapped the folder closed and looked Lance in the eye. “Impressive.”“Aw, are you just going to flatter me tonight? Maybe wine and dine a bit? Gotta tell you, I don’t tend to go for buff and trying to kill me. Kind of a turn-off, you know. Not my type.”The Galra laughed humorlessly. “It would seem the files were correct. Very talkative. I’ve opted to take a different approach. You are aware of the humans we have previously had in our care, yes?”“Care. That’s a cute word for it.”“Indeed. Well, two of them were scientists, and particularly susceptible to sharing information when the other was threatened with injury.” The Galra walked over to a black box on the table, looking down and running a hand over it.“…Charming.”“Pack bonding seems to be quite common to your species,” the Galra said with a smile. “So very easy to take advantage of.”“You know what else is easy? Seeing why you have no friends. Like, hot damn, that attitude is not doing you any favors.”“So many words, so very little meaning.” The Galra tapped fingers against the box. “Now, we managed to find out from the biologist several poisons that affected your species.”Lance took in a slightly deeper breath than usual, and huffed it out. “You can’t afford to kill me.”“But we can hurt you. These chemicals are potentially lethal, or at least incredibly toxic, to most species. Yours is apparently capable of resisting higher doses, based on the individual. One causes a severe amount of pain when ingested, and as it passes through one’s system, and the other causes trouble to the brain, leaving you more suggestible, among other things, also with some rather painful aftereffects.” The Galra opened the box, finally, revealing two large glass containers. One was filled with a clear liquid, and the other with reddish, powdery substance. The Galra tapped the latter. “Unfortunately, it appears that this one is most effective when somewhat diluted and eaten over the course of several minutes, so I can’t starve you as much as I’d planned.”“Wow. I feel so sorry for you. You must have been looking forward to that.”“Sarcasm, yes? It does you no good, Paladin.”“I have a name, you know.”“I do not care.”o.o.o.o.o“They’re going to poison him!” Pidge shouted, looking rapidly through the data. “I don’t… fuck, I don’t recognize what the chemicals are, that’s not my area, but apparently this stuff… uh, there’s two. Both are lethal to most species in moderate doses, and either super painful or debilitating in small ones.”Pidge looked up to pale faces. “They interrogated my dad and brother for stuff like this, so…”“Maybe they lied,” Shiro muttered.“Dad might have talked if they threatened Matt, and vice versa. I don’t…” Pidge turned to Coran. “Do you know what this stuff is? I don’t have this sort of info stored away, and… I need to know how much Lance is going to…”“I doubt the name we use for it is the same as yours,” Coran said, apologetic. “But those substances are known as heavily toxic to almost all species. I would not expect humans to be any different.”“God…” Pidge breathed, scanning through the files she’d picked up from the weak signal from the planet below. “They tested it on Matt. The pain-focused one… ugh… painful enough to make him cry, at least, uncontrollable sweating and fever, and then aftereffects on the digestive system as it passed through. The other one was as disorienting as expected and had pretty painful aftereffects too. Not too many details, but…”“As expected,” Coran sighed. “These doses would have been near-lethal to many species.”“Here, let me see,” Hunk said, making his way over to Pidge’s computer. “I’m better at chem than you, and—wait.”He peered closer, disbelief etched on his face.Then he threw back his head and started laughing.Keith and Pidge both leaned away as Hunk bent over at the waist, clinging to Pidge’s chair with one hand to stay upright.“Hunk?” Allura asked hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”“Y-you—they just—I can’t believe—” He trailed off into wordless laughter again, falling to his knees. “And I w-was ac-actually worried f-for a momehahahahaha!”The paladins and Alteans stared in confused horror.“He’s lost it,” Keith decided, taking a large step backwards.“Pidge,” Hunk gasped for breath. “Pidge, your family is so white.”“What?”o.o.o.o.oJust a little pain, Lance told himself. Whatever it was, he could handle it.He didn’t make it easy, of course. He clenched his jaw as the interrogator brought the poison-tainted goo to his mouth, pressed his lips together as they tried to make him drink.It didn’t work, of course, but it made him feel better.They fed him the goo, first, pressing in on his cheeks until his mouth opened.It tasted like chili, or maybe curry. Not even very strong chili, but something he might have enjoyed as a kid, when his moms were still making things as mild as possible for a child’s sensitive palate. He wondered what that meant. He didn’t know anything about poisons, not really. He didn’t know what came across as spicy, other than nutmeg. He didn’t even remember what nutmeg did. Diarrhea, maybe? It didn’t smell like nutmeg, though, so he stopped theorizing, and just resigned himself to the force-feeding.He glared up at the Galra as the plate was cleared off. “That all you got? I don’t even feel anything.”Purple lips pursed together. “The other human was crying by this point.”“Other human?”The Galra waved a hand dismissively. “We tested their claims, of course. Perhaps you are simply more resistant than they were.” Of course they did. “Guess I’m just made of tougher stuff than that,” Lance drawled.“We’ll see.”And then came the bottle.Lance had no idea what to expect, but it felt like nothing at first, and then burned as it slid down his throat. He coughed and spluttered after the bottle was pulled away after just a few mouthfuls.It felt like heat was spreading out from his mouth and throat and stomach. Like… like…Wait, he knew that taste.“Did you just give me space tequila?”o.o.o.o.o“Hunk, I think we’d all like an explanation right now,” Shiro said, folding his arms over his chest. “What’s so funny about Lance being poisoned? And what does it have to do with Pidge’s family being white?”“Because that,” Hunk said, pointing at the screen. “Is only technically a poison, by our standards.”“…that’s not reassuring, Hunk,” Keith said.“It’s capsaicin, guys.” Hunk laughed again, and then noticed that no one else was laughing either. “You… don’t know what capsaicin is, do you?”Heads shook all around.“…it’s spice. Like, a habanero, a jalapeño, a ghost pepper, table pepper, literally everything spicy? That’s capsaicin.” Hunk pointed at the screen again. “That one on the left is just freaking capsaicin. And yeah, it can cause all the stuff that the Galra recorded when they tested it on Matt, but have you ever seen someone eat food that’s too spicy for them? That’s exactly what happens to them.”“Oh my god,” Shiro whispered, something between horror and delight on his face. “Please tell me you’re joking.”Pidge looked over the computer again. And again. “That’s… you’re telling me they just gave him spicy food and he claimed it was a poison?”“I mean, I’m pretty sure he claimed it was a poison first, and then they tested it, but… yeah.”Pidge buried her face in her hands. “Matt… I don’t know whether that was a genius move or a really fucking stupid one.”“And all you really need to know here is that Lance once won twenty bucks because someone bet he wouldn’t eat a ghost pepper without crying, and he did it anyway. Actually, he’d have done it just to prove he could; the money was just a bonus. He did the same thing like three weeks later with a Carolina Reaper,” Hunk said. “So he’s probably going to eat enough for them to be convinced he’s some kind of monster.”“Approximately how much of this chemical is in one of these… peppers?” Coran asked tentatively.“Uh…” Hunk frowned, “I know this, just gimme a sec. Lance had me look it up after he did it so he could brag that he’d eaten a Carolina Reaper. I remember that it’s like 2.2 million on the Scoville scale, but…”“The what?”“Okay, so it was… more than what you’d get in 25 milliliters of police-grade pepper spray, because that’s how much you find in the Trinidad Moruga Scorpion pepper, and police-grade pepper spray is usually about 2% capsaicin, so… a little under a milliliter, maybe?” Hunk frowned. “More than half a milliliter, less than a full one.”Coran put a hand to his chest. “And he didn’t die?”Hunk blinked. “I mean, he had a hell of a bad couple of days on his digestive system, both times, and couldn’t taste anything for a week, again on both occasions, but yeah, he was fine after a bit.”Allura and Coran stared.“Is recreational consumption of spicy food really that weird?” Pidge asked, adjusting her glasses. “I mean, not everyone’s a fan, obviously, but it’s pretty common back home?”“Lance sounds like a bit of an extreme example,” Shiro said, as though it were somehow a consolation.“He’s a total chilihead,” Hunk confirmed. “He could eat a jalapeño with every meal when he had access and considered it pleasantly tangy.”“That’s awful,” Pidge declared. “But it does make me feel better about him being supposedly poisoned.”“I mean, he technically is being poisoned,” Hunk pointed out. “It’s still a toxic substance. We just have a higher tolerance than most species, apparently.”“So they’re probably just feeding him the equivalent of tabasco sauce or something?” Keith asked. “Or something stronger?”“Probably weaker than tabasco, honestly. If they’re using Matt as a reference, then they’re probably starting super mild. He’s kind of a baby about this sort of thing,” Pidge said. “So, what I’m getting from all this is that most species have a really low LD50 when it comes to this chemical?”“Very,” Coran said, still looking a little uncomfortable. “You… poison yourselves simply to prove you can?”“Nah, not really,” Hunk said, shrugging. “I mean, some people do? People eat stuff that’s too spicy for them all the time, whether it’s for a bet or a dare or just because they’ve gotten hit with way to much toxic masculinity BS. But a lot of people honestly just enjoy the taste, and Lance is one of them. The stuff he eats for fun, because he genuinely enjoys the taste, would make my mouth feel like it’s on fire.”“…humans,” Allura said, like she couldn’t believe anything anymore. “Are you going to tell me that the other chemical is used in a similar manner?”“I mean… people actually die from the other one fairly often, but it doesn’t stop most people?” Hunk offered. “We’re actually pretty resistant to that one, even more than capsaicin, people just go really overboard.”“Hunk, what’s the other chemical?” Shiro asked carefully. “Because that sounds a lot like—”“Ethanol.”“Dammit.” Shiro dropped his head into his hands. “How well can Lance hold his liquor?”“If his normal personality is at a two, his drunk personality is at a nine.”“And how many drinks does it take him to get there?”“More than you’d think, given the size of him. I’ve only seen him actually drunk once. He doesn’t really like the taste much.”o.o.o.o.o“Ey, papi, pass me some more of that sweet nectar,” Lance drawled, pressing up against the bars of the cage they’d stuck him in to wait out the poison or whatever. “C’mon, it’s been a while since I got hammered. Share the good stuff, bruh.”The Galra on guard both looked at each other. “The… poison from earlier?”“Pfffft, that’s not poison, that’s liquid fucking courage.” Lance let his head loll to the side, smiling as wide as he could. He was barely buzzed, but it didn’t hurt to play up how bad it was. “I don’t know if that was tequila or vodka or whiskey or what, but it was strong and it was taaaaaaaaasty.”It was not tasty, in Lance’s humble opinion, but… well, Coran did say that playing psychological games with one’s captors could turn up all kinds of interesting information. And they’d watered it down enough that Lance would need to drink at least two or three more times before he was even mostly drunk.“You… you want to be poisoned?” One of the guards asked. “That liquid is known the universe over for being deadly!”“So? I know my limits. I know when to stop, c’mon dude, y’gotta gimme some.” Lance whined, pouting.“You’d die,” the Galra told him. “And as much as we may want you dead, you are currently more useful to us alive.”“But am I as useful to you sober as I am drunk?” Lance asked. “’Cause right now I can still talk shit and give you no real information.”They ignored him, and Lance made his way back over the metal bed and sat down. He had no idea what the plan was, though apparently they thought that getting him drunk would loosen his tongue.He let himself slump downwards. They’d probably try poisoning him a little more soon enough. That was… not going to be fun. He still didn’t know what the first one had been, just that it was a little hot. When was the pain meant to kick in?o.o.o.o.o“I can’t believe I read all that and didn’t realize that the painful recovery period was referring to a goddamn hangover,” Pidge complained.“You people recreationally drink a liquid that has been proven to have horrifying effects on your physical health and on your decision-making skills to the point of being one of the largest direct and indirect causes of death on your planet, which even in the short-term can cause digestive problems leading to vomiting and an incredibly painful experience while recovering in the day following,” Allura said, disbelieving. “Why?”“People think the disorientation is fun, basically,” Shiro offered. “It’s not necessarily a smart choice, but it’s a fairly common one.”“Some people use it to cope with traumatic experiences,” Pidge offered, eyes on her screen. Now that Lance’s immediate future was guaranteed to be at least somewhat safe, she had a much easier time focusing instead of panicking. “Or for religious observances.”“It was safer than water for a lot of human history,” Hunk offered. “You didn’t always know if the water from the pond was safe, but the wine had enough ethanol to have killed off dangerous bacteria. Nobody knew that was why, of course, but it did work.”“Hence pirates having a fondness for grog,” Keith said. He blinked when all eyes turned to him, and explained a little further. “Uh, water mixed with small amounts of alcohol to, uh, kill off the germs and make it safe. Or, sort of, I think it actually started as a way to make stagnant water taste better, since algae grew inside the casks, and alcohol would mask the taste. Started with beer as the drink of choice to dilute, then switched to rum.”“…Keith, why do you—”“I really liked those dumb pirate movies as a kid,” Keith said, entirely straight-faced. “And did research for a while. Some of it stuck.”“A lot of people really do just drink to get drunk,” Pidge said, bringing the conversation back around. “Which, you know, all the power to them or whatever? It’s not necessarily safe, but it takes years to kill you unless you binge and die of alcohol poisoning.”“You poison yourselves for fun!” Coran insisted.“Well… yes,” Shiro said, unable to really argue the claim.Allura and Coran seemed to find this difficult to believe. Nobody really blamed them.“Man,” Hunk laughed. “I can’t wait to explain mithridatism to you.”o.o.o.o.o“I still have no idea what that is,” Lance said, eyeing the red powder, which the Galra all handled like the glass container was as fragile and as important as… as something really breakable and important. Lance didn’t feel like making similes right now. “Like, can you at least tell me what you’re giving me?”“I believe the other humans named it as…” The Galra flipped through the paper file that had come with the box. “Capsaicin.”Lance made a face. “That… sounds familiar.”It did. It really did. He just had to think and…“Oh my god, are you kidding me?”He’d spent all this time worrying, and they were literally feeding him spicy space goo.That was it. That was all.They’d added flavoring to space goo and called it poison.What a joke.“Scared?” The Galra asked, apparently reading his disbelief as fear.It wouldn’t hurt to play along. Lance schooled his expression, letting it crack just enough to pretend it was false bravado instead of a desire to laugh in all of their faces. “Not at all.”“Would you like to know the other?” The Galra asked, with a grin full of sharp, deadly teeth.“Is it ethanol?” Lance asked. “Because that’s my guess.”A look of shock was his only real answer.“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Lance said, making himself as comfortable as he could while strapped to a goddamn chair. “It is going to impair my faculties or whatever. Intoxication does that to a person. It’s just that it’s going to be hella fun, too. Have you ever heard of a keg stand? I bet you’ve never heard of a keg stand.”They put more capsaicin in his space goo this time. It was almost medium hot. He felt so proud of them, getting to the upper edges of the mild side of curry.And that was definitely space tequila, and it was definitely disgusting, and they were definitely giving him more this time.o.o.o.o.o“And we have video!” Pidge crowed, pumping one fist into the air. “Who’s amazing?”“You are,” Hunk said, patting her on the back. “So, do we have Lance on any of these security feeds?”“We… should…” Pidge drew out the words, flicking through screens. “And… there he is!”She blew up the video so everyone could see, and turned on the audio before her eyes even registered what they were seeing.“—le gusta la gasoline, dame mas gasolina!” Lance sang, dancing around a cell.“…is he actually hammered or just faking?” Pidge whispered, leaning over towards Hunk.“I have no idea.”“Zumbale el mambo pa' q mis gatas prendan los motores,” Lance sang, over and over again, swaying his hips.“That’s a sign that he’s sober enough, right?” Keith asked. “Like, people can’t talk that fast while dru—”“Lance can.”“…oh my god, I can’t believe him.”o.o.o.o.oLance was pretty sure that he was, at minimum, buzzed right now.“¿Ey, ey, piensas que yo soy un chico hermoso?” He asked, leaning against the bars of the cell. Cage. Whatever. “¿A menos que las personas Galra tengan diferentes estándares de belleza?”“Do you have any idea what he’s saying?” One of the Galra asked the other, so quiet that Lance almost didn’t hear them.“No, the translators aren’t picking anything up for some reason,” the second Galra said, eyeing Lance nervously. He gave the two a lazy wave of his fingers, smiling languidly.They shuddered.“He should be dead by now,” one of the Galra commented. “How is he not—”“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Mambo Number Five!” Lance yelled, pushing himself away from the bars. He started singing as loud as he could, and doing the salsa, and basically anything he could to pretend his level of intoxication was higher than it actually was.“By Zarkon, the humans are insane.”o.o.o.o.o“Okay, I think he’s only a little drunk,” Hunk said, peering at the video while Pidge continued trying to hack into the Galra base’s security beyond just the video feed. If she could disable the drones, then getting Lance out would be much easier.“What makes you say that?” Shiro asked, taking a few steps closer. “He’s being… much louder than a prisoner should be, honestly.”“He’s sung a perfect rendition of the piña colada song and done the salsa while singing to Mambo Number Five, Livin’ la Vida Loca, Let’s Get Loud, and Mr. Saxobeat by now. Have you seen him mess up his footing even once?” Hunk asked, pointing at the video.“…point,” Shiro sighed. “So should we assume he’s trying to play his captors, or just that he’s a good dancer even while drunk?”“Both?” Pidge suggested, still typing furiously. “We know Lance tries to play mind games when he gets captured. It’s his thing.”“We should probably hurry anyway, though,” Hunk pointed out, watching the screen as the Galra in charge showed up to drag Lance away for yet another round of ‘poisoning.’ “If he’s already kind of drunk, then we don’t want him drinking too much more. The goo is offsetting it a bit, since eating helps, but we don’t want him to actually get alcohol poisoning.”“Well, good news on that front,” Pidge said with a grin. “Because I just found a way to shut down all the drones at once, and I can wreak enough havoc from here to shut down half the base, and do it with style.”“Time to stage a jail-break?” Keith asked, looking at Shiro.“Yeah. Again.” Shiro stretched a little. “Everyone ready to go?”Pidge’s grin widened. “Let’s go steal a paladin.”o.o.o.o.o“Estás muy linda,” Lance giggled as the Galra pulled the bottle of alcohol away from him, fully drained. His thoughts were actually starting to grow fuzzy, and even the numbness from the drink wasn’t enough to hide the fact that they’d finally spiced up the food enough for him to enjoy the burn. “¿Sabes?”“Enough gibberish,” the Galra snarled, pushing Lance’s head down against the table. “Are you ready to answer my questions or not?”“Cualquier cosa para ti,” he laughed. It was a lie, of course, but the Galra didn’t know that, seeing as none of them could even understand what he was saying. It didn’t matter what he said, so long as he kept his tone somewhere in the realm of infuriating.“Ugh.”“Hey, hey, do you have any more of the spicy goo?” Lance asked, and saw the Galra perk up as he finally started speaking a recognizable language again. “It’s been so long since I had something spicy, ya know, so I’m like hella craving now.”The Galra blinked in confusion. “What?”Lance gestured at the bottle of red powder. “The capsaicin. That last plate was actually at the perfect level of spice, yeah? Not too hot, not too bland. Just right. Like Goldilocks!”The Galra inhaled slowly. “Are you attempting to say that you haven’t so much as felt the amount of capsaicin we have thus far fed you, despite the fact that most would be dead three times over by now?”“What can I say? I like my food like I like my music: hot and spicy,” he giggled again.Lance wondered if he looked like as much of a mess as he felt. He felt too hot in the chest, like his joints were made of rubber, like his head was full of oily cotton, like his balance was twenty degrees to the side. He felt drunk, and he didn’t like it.“Take him back to the cells,” the Galra growled. “We’ll ensure that the next round lives up to your expectations, paladin.”“Lookin’ forward to it, babe.” Lance winked and laughed as the guards came in to get him and the Galra in charge stormed out.He stumbled a little on his way back to the cells, the alcohol finally hitting his system enough to make him start getting clumsy.“Fuck,” he hissed as the guards tightened their grips warningly on his upper arms. He spoke up, “Oi, I’m drunk, not dying.”“You should be dead already,” one of them muttered.“And I feel the same way about you, but I’m afraid that—” Lance cut himself off as they shoved him roughly into his cell. He groaned as he slammed painfully against the wall. “Assholes.”“Shut up,” the guard growled.Lance almost responded, but something interrupted.Something wonderful and beautiful.Music over the ship-wide speaker system. “DANZA KUDURO!” Lance grinned. “Pidge.”He didn’t have a weapon or armor or anything else that could have been helpful, so he started dancing to the music instead, even as the guards lowered their weapons at him.“I haven’t done anything,” he told them, utterly truthful. “Except dance!”o.o.o.o.oThey found him like that, Hunk and Allura leading the charge into the room. The two of them didn’t seem to know what to think of the fact that Lance was dancing while there were guards training their weapons on him. They did as they were trained, though, and immediately took out both.“Hunk!” Lance said cheerily as his best friend shot off the lock to the cell. He ran out and into a hug, then spun to face Allura and grabbed her hand. “¡Princesa! ¡Baila conmigo!”Allura looked down at him, face blank. “What?”“Not now, Lance, we don’t have time,” Hunk told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Keith’s getting your armor and bayard.”“Hunk, babe, I don’t think I’ll be able to use them,” Lance said, patting his friend on the arm. “I’m having trouble seeing.”“What?” Allura asked, sounding far too worried for the situation. “Is it serious? Do you have a head injury? Is it the poison?”“Just beer goggles, babe,” Lance said, and then followed up with a slightly drunken giggle. He pushed away from Hunk and over to Allura. “Can I play with your hair when we get back to the castle? You have really nice hair and I can’t see it right now 'cause it's under the helmet but it always looks so soft, and—”“Okay, you are drunk,” Hunk said, pulling him away from Allura. “You can ask Allura about her hair later. Right now, we gotta go. Can I do a fireman carry or are you gonna throw up?”Lance bounced on his toes for a moment, thinking. “I’m… I can walk?”“Fast enough to avoid the Galra?” Hunk asked, and then sighed as Lance’s attention wandered. “I’m going to carry you unless you feel nauseous.”“I’m fine, but can we pick up the caps… the spicy stuff? My head is swimming, but dude, it’s been so fucking long since I had food that actually tasted like something. Everything is so bland in space.” Lance made a slightly awkward noise as Hunk lifted him up onto his shoulder in a fireman's carry. “Please don’t let them shoot my ass. It’s a very pretty ass and I’d like to keep it that way.”“You have no filter right now, dude,” Hunk said. “I’ll keep your ass safe, Lance.”“You’re a real bro.”“I know.”“Paladins, let’s go!”o.o.o.o.oHunk got the damn capsaicin, and they blew up the base.(Shiro may or may not have stolen the remaining alcohol, with the excuse that it had been a long while since he’d had any, as flavorless as this looked.)o.o.o.o.oLance was draped over the couch, and Allura had deigned to sit next to him and allow him to play with her hair. He’d already braided several sections, including some variant he called a fishtail.“It’s so soft,” he whispered, running his fingers through the remaining unbraided section, “como una nube.”“Lance, I don’t know what that means,” she reminded him again, to no avail.(“Lance tends to switch languages sometimes when the alcohol hits, because it makes him stop feeling like he needs to make sure everyone understands him. Like, he stops caring, basically?” Hunk tried to explain. “He feels more comfortable switching than not, since he switches at home a lot, and sometimes things just feel more accurate in one language than the other, even if the words and meaning are identical, or if he just wants to show off or doesn’t want people to understand him or just feels like it, and… honestly, I’d be doing the same thing if I was as confident about this sort of thing, and if people were as likely to parse through Samoan as they are Spanish.”)Allura stiffened as Lance pressed his face into her hair and back, and wrapped her in a hug. “Your hair is really nice.”“Lance, you’re making her uncomfortable,” Hunk said.“…oh,” Lance said, withdrawing his hands but not getting up. “Sorry, ‘llura. I don’t think I’m picking up on stuff all that well right now.”He patted her on the shoulder, and yawned audibly.“Lance, I think it’s time you went to bed,” Hunk said, though he didn’t move to actually push the decision through. “You wanna get up and go? Maybe take a shower?”“Nah, I’m fine here.” Lance flopped back against the couch, letting his head loll so he could stare at the ceiling. “Don’t feel like walking.”Allura turned to look at him more fully, and then frowned. “Are you sure you’re alright? I know you said that ethanol’s effects on your species are well-documented, but I’m still worried about the entire idea of recreational usage of toxic substances.”“You worry too much, ‘llura,” Lance told her, reaching up to try to pat her again, and then dropping his arm when it seemed that he’d have to move to actually reach her. “I’ll be fine.”o.o.o.o.o“Ooooooow,” Lance whined, pillowing his face in his arms on the kitchen table. “Someone turn down the lights, please.”“This is… a hangover?” Allura asked hesitantly as Keith got the lights on his way out of the room. “What are the symptoms?”“Nausea, sensitivity to light and sound, lethargy, dry mouth, dizziness, headache…” Pidge trailed off and paused in her typing, thinking. “That covers the most common ones. He’ll be fine soon; he’s young.”“I see,” Allura said, and sighed. “Well, the Blade of Marmora is coming over to discuss some of the information Pidge gathered over breakfast. I will inform them that Lance is currently recovering from an attempt at torture by poison.”“Stop taaaalking,” Lance moaned, burying his face deeper against his arms.Hunk came in from the kitchen with some high-protein space goo and a steaming cup of something. “Guess who added some of your shiny new capsaicin powder to breakfast?”“Oh my god, thank you,” Lance said, sitting up to look at the goo. “How spicy? Like, on a scale of white-people mild to even I might cry?”“I taste-tested and it was enough for me to handle, so moderate,” Hunk told him, pushing the goo closer. “Now eat, you need the protein and grease.”“There’s grease?”“I know what I’m doing, Lance.”“I love you.”“I know, dude. Eat.”Lance dug into the goo, actually moaning as he ate.“Recreational poisoning,” Allura scoffed under her breath. “Humans.”“Mithridatism,” Pidge reminded her. “And hey, we had to evolve our way into surviving our environment somehow. With all the poisons on Earth, we inevitably had to develop some kind of resistance to the common, not-immediately-lethal ones.”“Immunity through gradual exposure is not something that most of the universe sees as a sane manner of dealing with toxic substances,” Allura grumbled as the doors to the dining area slid open, and two Galra walked in, escorted by Keith. “Ah. Kolivan, Antok. Welcome.”Kolivan nodded. “Princess.”“Hey, it’s you guys,” Lance waved lazily with his spoon. “How’s it hanging?”“…how is what hanging?” Kolivan asked carefully.“Ignore him,” Pidge advised.“Lance was captured during yesterday’s mission, and they attempted to poison him during an interrogation. He’s still recovering.” Allura gestured for the two to take seats. “Please.”“It wasn’t poison; it was alcohol. I got drunk, that’s all.” Lance rolled his eyes, then gestured at his own breakfast, eyeing Kolivan and Antok. “Want some? It finally has flavor.”“Lance!” Allura snapped immediately.“…what? I’m being nice. Always offer food to guests and whatnot.” Lance, at least, seemed genuinely confused.“What part of ‘most species consider spicy food a deadly poison’ is so hard to remember?” Keith asked from where he was leaning against the wall. “Don’t offer the spicy stuff to the aliens.”“…right.”Kolivan glanced at Allura, questioning.She shrugged, her own tiredness surely visible. “Humans apparently choose to recreationally consume certain poisons that their bodies have developed resistance to.”“Why?" Kolivan asked, aghast.“Because it tastes good?” Lance said, taking a large, obvious bite of his food.“There’s some C18H27NO3 in there,” Allura told them. “And last night, he consumed well over one hundred milliliters of ethanol, though it was diluted in several glasses of water at the time.”Kolivan looked appropriately horrified, in Allura’s opinion, and Antok’s face may have been hidden behind a mask, but his body language was just as shocked.“He’d need to drink about twice that to pass out,” Pidge told them, not looking up from her laptop. “And maybe half that again in order to be at risk of death.”“Eeeeey,” Lance raised his still-steaming drink into the air in a mock toast. “Imma survive everything.”“Finish your food, dumbass,” Pidge looked up in order to stick out her tongue at him.“You want some?” Lance offered up the spoon, much as he had to the Galra. “Keith? What about you?”“I already ate, and I tend to go for something milder than what Hunk made for you anyway.”“Ugh, I’ll pass. I’m not a fan of spicy food.” Pidge made a face. “Like, at all.”Lance snickered. “Still got that baby palate, gringa?”“I will cut you, hangover or not,” Pidge warned him, one eyebrow raised. “Besides, you got white-girl wasted last night.”“First of all, it took me like seven shots of space tequila to get to that point, so my tolerance isn’t all that bad,” Lance said, bringing up one hand to tick off his points on his fingers. “Second of all, I didn’t even agree to the alcohol I was drinking. Third of all, I passed through loud and dancing buzzed first. Fourth of all? Better to be white-girl wasted than being, like, an angry drunk. Or a sad drunk, can you imagine being a sad drunk? I don’t want to be a sad drunk, Pidge.”“I mean, your entire existence looks pretty sad to me,” Pidge said.“Ow,” Lance put a hand to his chest in mock offence. “That hurts, you little gremlin. Right in the heart.”“I don’t care.”“You wanna fucking go?”“All I have to do is shout and your hangover’s gonna do the rest of the work for me.”Lance paused, considering. “Postponed, then. My head hurts enough already.”“Then stop talking and start eating, asshole.” Pidge snorted, going back to her computer.Lance stuck out his tongue at her, but did as she suggested.“Humans,” Allura muttered under her breath.
10188833	life-size	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Multi", "Characters": "Isara Mao, Sakuma Ritsu, Sakuma Rei, Aoi Yuuta, Sengoku Shinobu, Sena Izumi (Ensemble Stars!), Yuuki Makoto (Ensemble Stars!), Narukami Arashi, Kagehira Mika", "Fandom": "Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "5/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "1,881", "Additional Tags": "Drabble Collection, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Trans Male Character, Fluff, Hot-Air Balloons, (thats not a tag but i dont care im making it a tag), Implied Sexual Content, The Talk, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Scarves, Genderfluid Character, Vampires, Flirting", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Isara Mao/Sakuma Ritsu, Aoi Yuuta/Sengoku Shinobu, Sena Izumi & Yuuki Makoto, the izumako is vaguely platonic, Narukami Arashi/Sena Izumi, Kagehira Mika/Sakasaki Natsume", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"I'm lucky, since my voice is naturally LOW." Natsume perches on the precariously thin arm of the antique couch. "I don't think I would have been able to get in without IT.""But all the other stuffs? Like, don't y'have stuff on yer documents 'n all?""Unfortunately, YES," Natsume sighs. "But I got in through... other METHODS. So the administration knows, but they've kept it quiet, and so have the TEACHERS.""Didja bribe them? Scandalous," Mika teases, tilting her head back to look up at Natsume still balancing on the edge of the couch."My mother bribed THEM. With detailed readings for every member of the Tenshouin conglomerate's family, including the Emperor HIMSELF."Mika's mouth forms a little 'o' of surprise, and he blinks, wide-eyed. "Jus' that? I thought ya woulda needed money fer that kinda bribe, but...""A complete vision of the rest of one's mortal life, including financial occurrences, future stocks, and the age at which one will DIE... Don't you think that'd be a little more DESIRABLE?" Natsume almost winks, the corner of his mouth turning up in a catlike smile. "As opposed to just another comparatively small sum of money that such a rich family wouldn't really NEED.""Mm, thas' true." Mika nods, understanding, and then her eyes lid a little, daring-- brave, all of a sudden, now that he sees Natsume with that smile... "Well, yer super cute, anyway, so maybe y'never needed to do that at all?"Natsume's smug expression immediately cracks, as he loses his balance and nearly topples off the arm of the couch. He manages to catch himself, and Mika watches his throat move as he swallows, regaining what looks like a semblance of composure. But the illusion breaks when Mika catches a glance of his face, which is almost as red as the hair that hides it, and when he speaks his voice is lower, doesn't twist at the end of his sentence the way it usually does. "A-Are you making a pass at me? Naughty kitten.""Who, me? Nnah, no way~" ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “How did you even get this hot air balloon?” Yuuta asks as he watches Shinobu fiddle with the lighter, ready to light the burner flame under the expanse of the envelope. They’re still sitting on the ground, not afloat yet, but the balloon has been partially inflated with the cold air fan, and all they have to do is blow the burner to buoy it up.“Ah, good question! I asked Shinkai-dono, who is friends with Hibiki-dono, who enjoys hot air balloons… He helped with the setup, you see,” Shinobu grins, pointing at the huge fan that had previously been blowing into the envelope. “It seems you have to inflate it with cold air first! Hot air balloons are fascinating…”“Yeah, how do people do this all by themselves?” Yuuta laughs, prodding Shinobu. “Um, you light the burner and I’ll get in then? I’ll pull you up when you’re done.”“Understood!” Shinobu almost does an army salute, but stops himself. Unsuitable. He clicks on the lighter— yes, all his training with fire is finally paying off!— and turns up the gas, gently bringing the flame into proximity, careful not to let his hand shake, and a huge whoosh catches them both off guard as the burner sparks into life. “Yuuta-kun! Your hand!”“I got you!” Yuuta is smiling so wide he wonders if his face will break as he extends his hand to Shinobu, pulling him up into the basket just as the balloon starts to slowly drift upwards, gently losing contact with the ground. Once they’re both inside, Shinobu can’t help but break out into a cheer, excitedly peering out of the basket to see that yes, the balloon is leaving the ground, and it’s just hot air doing it! Yuuta seems to be just as happy as he is, looking straight up into the mouth of the envelope, colorful and decorated with light shining through it, casting both their faces in faint rainbow hues. It takes them about two minutes to rise high enough that falling would be dangerous. Five minutes in, and Shinobu feels high above the clouds, even though he can only just see the top of the roof from here. But it’s Yuuta beside him, and neither of them say a word as they drift higher and higher, until they can see the tops of the trees and the slope of the beach into the ocean just down the hill. Then Yuuta breaks out in giddy laughter. “W-we did it! Oh, wow, this is…” He looks over the side of the wicker basket. Shinobu is behind him at the other side, leaning the other way so as not to unbalance the balloon, but back-to-back it’s warm and comforting, and Yuuta doesn’t have to see Shinobu’s face to know how happy he is. “What gave you this idea anyway? Why a hot air balloon?”At that, Shinobu sputters a bit. It’s obvious he’s trying to come up with an excuse, but finally he turns around to Yuuta and gives up. “I… erm… I asked Shinkai-dono for ideas for…”Yuuta waits; oh jeez Shinobu is cute when he’s flustered.“Ideas for unique d-dates,” he finally finishes, and then immediately hides his face.“This is a date?” Yuuta exclaims, and then he smiles so wide his face starts to hurt. “Shinobu-kun! This is the best date idea ever!”Shinobu squeaks, and he’s so embarrassed he turns back to looking over the side of the basket. Yuuta concedes and does the same, still giggling; but then there’s the shy, gentle brush of Shinobu’s hand against his, then the twining of their fingers, and if holding hands like this feels so close, Yuuta doesn’t think he’d ever have to turn around again, or ever come back down to earth. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It’s been all over the trashy entertainment magazines lately— “Sena Izumi seen frolicking with new beau from same unit!” was the first one, after Knights took a trip to the beach and Arashi had splashed him in the fucking face so of course he had to fight back, and “A day on the town with Narukami?! Model-idols rumored to be dating” was a week afterwards when Arashi had gotten fed up with Izumi’s skincare regimen and dragged him to an upscale makeup store, cooing over all the pretty shades of lipstick that would look perfect on his face, and when Izumi rejected all of them, pouting and testing them out instead.But Izumi’s getting tired of all the interview requests centered around his New Blossoming Intra-Unit Love Affair, and the weird looks from the rest of Knights are a little too much to put up with at practice every day, so after their gravure shoot Izumi and Arashi hatch a plan— the next time someone asks either of them if it’s true, they’re just going to say yes. Arashi giggles and asks if this means they’re allowed to get handsy in public, and Izumi just groans; it won’t be forever, is what he tells himself, just two weeks and then we’ll publicly break up and everyone will leave us alone, but for some reason the thought of Arashi’s perfect hands twining into his as they head into town for a couple of crepes suddenly isn’t so bad. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Logically, Ritsu knew there would come a day where he would have to hear The Talk, and he knew that with their parents' lack of motivation to ever discuss the subject it would be his shitty older brother taking up the torch, but what he doesn't quite understand is why now? Rei had sat him down after Maa-kun left this evening, a certain knowing shine in his eye, and Ritsu immediately knew-- it wasn't his fault Rei found out, he's really not too loud during sex, it was Maa-kun-- and before he could even protest, Rei launched into a calm, detailed lecture explaining the ethics and mechanisms of sex specifically between a vampire and a human. And now Rei has been going at it for thirty minutes. His head hurts.Ritsu rolls his eyes as far back into his head as he possibly can when Rei clasps his hands together, as if to signify an end to the speech. "Ahh, my cute Ritsu is growing up," he muses, looking at him a little proudly, a little lonely, from across the antique couch that smells like dust and iron. “You should have told me, I’ll have to go over the same points with your Mao-kun later, you know—”With that, Ritsu snaps. He flushes up to his ears with the little of his own blood he even has, and in a not-so-steady tone, trying desperately to keep his voice leveled lest Rei call him cute again, he spits out each syllable like stale blood:“Stupid Anija. I’ve been alive for Two. Hundred. Years. And you think I’ve been a virgin up until last night?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When Makoto goes to get his things and head home, the scarf is crammed into his shoe locker. It's red, thick, and obviously hand-knit, and there's a white strand somewhere in there-- a word or something that he can't make out yet, not when it's wadded up like that. Not a note or anything, and he pulls it out carefully, a bit puzzled as to why such a thing would be in there. Carefully, he unrolls the scarf and lets it dangle in its full length in front of him.In retrospect, he shouldn't have been surprised at all.The scarf, now that he looks at it, clearly says (in perfect English lettering, at least up until his name) I LOVE ゆう, with a big, dramatic heart at the end, and Makoto at least knows enough English to get the pun. Honestly, who else calls him that? Who else would make such a weird pun? Who else would knit him a fucking scarf?Something doesn't line up, though. Makoto can't imagine Izumi sitting down and taking the time to knit something for anyone, even him. He can't imagine Izumi knitting, or even having the patience for that. But the image comes to his mind anyway-- Izumi smiling softly as he weaves, a spool of fluffy red yarn at his side, just sitting there and working, on something like this. On something for him. And while it's a stretch, Makoto wouldn't doubt that Izumi would learn how to knit just to make sure Makoto doesn't catch a cold before the SS. To make something to keep him warm. To remind Makoto of him. And in a way Makoto isn't really used to.In a way that feels soft, and comforting, and almost safe.Makoto wraps the scarf around his neck, sits down on the bench and takes a moment to nestle into it, pulling it up above his nose and taking a breath, feeling the stray strings from the yarn tickle his face as he breathes. It smells a little like some sort of unisex perfume and a little like... Izumi. A scent that feels far away, a scent that makes him feel like following a path of yarn through a labyrinth to reach it-- reach him-- once again.It takes him another ten minutes to get up and head home.
10189403	Accidental Treason	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Thorin Oakenshield, Kíli (Tolkien)", "Fandom": "The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "686", "Additional Tags": "Intoxication, Accidental Treason, Humor", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The soft thumps against the stone ground echoed down the great halls of Erebor as Thorin strolled by the enormous stone doors with his two personal guards trailing behind him.The evening was eventful if that was a right word for it. Watching the other dwarves make fools of themselves in their most obvious drunken states, especially Fili. Thorin let out a long sigh, thinking of his eldest nephew, Fili dancing on the table with Bofur, singing and spilling their ales everywhere, with no trousers on at that. Thorin prayed to Mahal to not let Fili embarrassed himself further for the rest of the night as he is the Heir and future King. Fortunely, every dwarf in the dining room are either too drunk to remember the next day or passed out in their seats with ale still in their hands. Thinking of Fili made Thorin wondered where the youngest was. Usually, this type of event where Kili spent of his time at Fili’s side, drinking out of their wits together. More profoundly, cause trouble together.When Thorin turned around the corner, there was a fire gleamed from the throne room. He narrowed his eyes in suspicious, slightly tilted his head as he marched towards the throne room. He entered the room and blinked in surprise. At the throne chair perched by not other than his youngest nephew, Kili, with a crown sat on his unruly hair. Thorin groaned silently and entered the throne room.As he got near, he wasn’t surprised to find him tipsy, with an empty cup left on the ground beside the throne chair. He stood in front of his nephew, arms tucked behind his back. Thorin watched Kili shifted in the throne chair, and then Kili began to sing under his breath, way out of tune. Far over the Misty Mountains cold Thorin closed his eyes, letting his head hang and shook his head, feeling a bit amused. He raised his chin up and cleared his throat. “Kili,” he spoke in a deep voice, startling Kili and almost fell off the throne chair. Kili looked up and a dopey grinned appeared on his slightly red face. “Uncle!” Kili cried happily, swinging his arms wide open, as if he was expecting a hug. Thorin didn’t moved, only winced at Kili’s high-pitched voice. “Kili,” he started, “what are you doing here?”Kili had hard time to stand up and slouch back as if he was tired from getting up in a great effort. He pumped his chest and managed to hit his chest with a fist “I am the king, uncle.”Silence filled the throne room. Thorin only looked at him, with either amused or annoyed. “You are no king, nephew.” Thorin said, “I am.”“No! I’m the king!”Thorin heard his two guards shifted and he didn’t need to looked behind to see them grasping their axes as tension and hesitation filled the room. Thorin merely glanced at his intoxicated nephew, and raised his eyebrow at him, watching Kili fixing the crown on his head, tilting it on the side. Thorin rolled his eyes and snatched the crown off of him, ignoring the pained yelp. “No, you’re not.”“No!” Kili cried, trying to grab the crown by waving his arms at Thorin and failed miserably. “But uncle Thorin, Pleeaaase!” Kili stretched the word out loudly. Rolling his eyes yet again, Thorin grabbed Kili’s back of his collar and placed him beside the throne. Thorin turned back to his personal guards and called them out. “Take him to his chambers. Our ‘King’ needs some rest.” He stressed out the word ‘king’. “And when you’re done with him, find our future king to his chambers as well. Mahal knows how much he is making a fool of himself right now”Both guards nodded at their king and gently grabbed Kili’s arms and placed around their necks and carried him off. And as they were carrying him off, Thorin heard his nephew yelling. “Unhand me! I am your king! Y-you supposed to listen to me!”Kili’s pathetic yell made Thorin crack a smile and chuckled.
10189367	A Few Simple Moments	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Heiwajima Shizuo, Orihara Izaya", "Fandom": "Durarara!!", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Izayaislife", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "584", "Additional Tags": "Innocent, for once, Bittersweet, i love them, poor children, Raijin Days", "Relationship": "Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	There were days when they fought constantly, whether Shizuo got pissed over something small or Izaya goaded him into it. But sometimes on very rare occasions (usually when Shinra was absent from school for some reason or another) they reached a sort of truce for a day. Those were the days they would actively seek each other out for companionship. They didn’t speak during these times. Silent acceptance was all they wanted from the other in those moments. Sometimes Izaya would lay in Shizuo’s lap. He’d trail gentle fingers over Shizuo’s face or through his hair. He always looked so very sad when he did that and Shizuo almost wanted to ask why. He had a feeling he knew the reasons, he was no stranger to self-hate. Other times Shizuo would bury his face in Izaya’s shoulder and Izaya would wrap him in a hug. They understood each other in these moments, they could be gentle with each other. They always went back to the chase the next day but they both knew they had no true hatred between them. It was an inevitable cycle of anger and peace. Neither of them decided when or how it started. They didn’t try to think about it too much, it might ruin it. In those moments Izaya could rest the eternal rush of his mind. He could find a bit of rest and affection, two things that were hard to come by for him. Shizuo could find peace and understanding. They evened each other out in the worst and best ways. Nobody knew who decided to make the first move but suddenly their small moments involved lingering touches and gentle kisses. The first kiss had been a surprise but Izaya’s tears afterward had been an even bigger surprise. Shizuo had patiently wiped them away and broke the rules just once to say “It’s okay.” Izaya had buried his face in Shizuo’s stomach and Shizuo held him through his tears. The very next day Izaya had left a nasty cut on him but a week later had brushed gentle fingers along the scar with a regretful look and pressed a kiss against it. It was always like that, they’d patch each other’s injuries and provide much needed comfort. Over the course of those days Shizuo learned more than Izaya probably thought he did. Izaya couldn’t really control his manipulating any more than Shizuo could control his anger, Shinra somehow pushed Izaya to be a worse person just by his very presence, and Izaya’s parents were utter garbage at being there for their children. For now, they had each other, Shizuo didn’t want to even think of a world in which Izaya wasn’t there to be his sole comfort and his worst enemy. And he liked to think Izaya saw it the same way. He looked down at Izaya, who was napping in his lap, and couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips. It wasn’t love but it was the closest thing to love either of them knew. Right now, all Shizuo could do was hold out hope for the future. He leaned down to press a kiss to Izaya’s forehead. Surely, they deserved at least a few tiny moments of peace. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes as well. He was warm and at peace, he’d enjoy the feeling while it lasted. Shizuo dozed off with the warm weight of Izaya nestled in his lap and a smile on his lips.
10167314	Why Would He Lock the	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Castiel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester", "Fandom": "Supernatural (TV 2005)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by ohno_ohmy", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-07T00:00:00", "words": "1,397", "Additional Tags": "Watersports, Pee, Piss, Desperation, pissing in a bottle, Human Castiel", "Relationship": "Castiel/Dean Winchester", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Keeping Hydrated", "Collections": "Done", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	There are advantages and disadvantages to having all three of the hunters stay in a single motel room. The advantages were obvious; cost effective, easier to keep their activities and plans under wraps, and, yet again, cost effective. The disadvantages were just the small annoyances that tended to add up the longer they were out on a hunt. Especially now that they knew there was a better and more spacious option underground in Kansas.One of those main disadvantages that Castiel was about to learn about first hand this fateful morning, was having a single bathroom for three guys, one of whom has to keep his illustrious hair in peak physical condition. And when three men have been working hard and keeping hydrated, it can lead to a very desperate situation come morning.Castiel woke to the sound of the shower running on the other side of the wall next to his bed. The sound wasn’t what woke him up, though. It was the strong pressure in his bladder from drinking with the guys last night and not bothering to pee before bed. Castiel jolted upwards and immediately regretted it. Not only was he slightly dizzy and feeling pain between his eyes from being a little hungover, but bending at the waist had also put even more pressure on his straining bladder. He shot his hands down over his crotch in an effort to ease the tension and prevent anything too embarrassing from happening.Cas, taking more care now, got out of the bed and walked over to the bathroom door. He was affronted with yet another setback when he discovered that the door was locked. He knocked on the door and tried to call out to Sam without disturbing the still slumbering Dean on the couch, but was met with a muffled, “I just got in here,” from the other side of the door.Despite Castiel’s attempt at keeping quiet, he was glad that his interaction with the bathroom door had seemed to wake up Dean, because the situation was about to get desperate.“What’s going on Cas,” Dean mumbled while rising from his makeshift bed on the couch.“I think I need some help,” Cas said with a whine creeping through and his brows knitted together.“What’s wrong,” Dean asked, instantly more awake.“I just… I really need to urinate and your brother has locked the door to the bathroom. I’m not sure when he will come out and I don’t know if I can… hold it.” Cas looked in defeat down towards his crotch where his right hand was still held to stem back the impending flow.Dean didn’t want to think about how or why his dick gave an interested little jump when Cas told him his predicament. He pushed those thoughts aside and went looking for a useful receptacle for what looked to be a large load of piss that Cas was dealing with. Dean found the large empty bottle of Jack Daniels from the last few nights that they guys had finally polished off. Dean walked over to where Cas was still looking pathetically at the front of his pants and helped maneuver him over to the edge of the bed.“Here, man. Just piss in this. Don’t worry about it. I don’t know why Sam would lock the door, but you’ll be just fine in a minute.”Without wasting another second, Castiel unscrewed the oversized glass bottle and brought it down in front of his crotch. Cas pulled the elastic hem of his sleep pants down with his other hand and grabbed his thick, slightly swollen cock. He placed the tip of his dick against the small opening of the bottle and immediately let loose a torrent of piss. “Ohh. Oh, thank you, Dean. I was so nervous about what I was going to do. Thank you for helping me. Ahhhh.” Cas continued to sigh and moan over the harsh sound of his jet of piss hitting first the side of the bottle and then frothing up as it filled the bottom. His stream was forceful and thick and Dean didn’t bother to look away because Cas was still thanking him for the help.Dean had drunk quite a bit himself last night and watching Cas gush into the now refilling whiskey bottle was not helping him in ignoring his own growing need for relief. Dean walked himself over to the wall alongside the bed and watched on from the sidelines. Just like he had when they were in the woods by the side of the road, Cas leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he emptied into the bottle. When his stream eventually weakened and stopped the bottle was left nearly half full; a testament to how desperate Castiel must have been. He carefully and brazenly stroked the last few drops out of the tip of his cock into the bottle. “That feels so much better. I can’t thank you enough for thinking quickly like that.” Cas was screwing the cap of the bottle back on when he looked over at Dean against the wall. “Are you okay, Dean? Did I do something wrong?”“No, of course not. It’s just… watching you, I mean, not WATCHING you, but seeing you like that made me realize that I… really need to piss too. Would you mind if I…,” Dean gestured toward the bottle in Cas’s hand with a sheepish look on his face.“Oh, yes, of course. Here you go, Dean.”The bottle was almost hot from being filled by Cas just moments ago. Dean unscrewed the cap again and, despite his mind screaming at him that he should probably seek some sort of privacy or just simply wait for Sam to come out of the shower, Dean pulled down the front of his flannel pajamas and pulled his cock out to line it up with the bottle.Dean closed his eyes for a second, just to concentrate on letting his muscles relax; all too aware of Castiel calmly watching him from his seat on the edge of the motel bed. As the first few trickles finally made their way down his shaft he was able to open his eyes and see that Cas was blatantly staring at his cock as it started to fill the bottle with more hot piss. Dean’s stream wasn’t as forceful as Castiel’s had been. Dean wasn’t nearly as desperate. But his stream was still thick and it splashed into the bottle for the next twenty seconds as neither Cas nor Dean spoke. Dean kept switching his glance from his pissing cock back to Castiel’s almost fascinated gaze. Cas kept his eyes on Dean’s cock the whole time, never glancing up into his friend’s eyes. Dean wasn’t sure why. Maybe Cas was afraid or nervous to look at Dean. Maybe he was just too distracted by what was happening to change his focus.When Dean finally finished his piss he quickly pushed the last few drops from the tip of his dick and recapped the bottle as he tucked it away. This seemed to break the spell over Cas and he rubbed his hands over his thighs and gazed around the room as if it was much more interesting than the dingy motel off the interstate it really was.Dean heard the water in the shower cut off and quickly trashed the bottle before he was forced to explain it to Sam. Dean knew he should say something to Cas. Just to clear the air and make sure nothing too weird or awkward sprouted up between them. If only he could think of something for this particularly ludicrous situation.“So, um. I know that you have been, ya know, struggling with all this new human stuff. I just thought you should know that you’re doing okay. I mean, everyone goes through awkwardness as they figure this stuff out, but usually they are small and people expect kids to not get everything. You’ve got a ridiculously steep learning curve you’re dealing with. And I just want you to know that I want to help.”“Thank you, Dean. That means a lot to hear you say that.”“Yeah, well. Just don’t mention this to Sam, he gets all weird and judgy sometimes. We’ll just keep it between us. Okay?“Of course, Dean. Just between us.”
10190831	interdepartmental	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Simon Lewis, Jace Wayland, Clary Fray, Isabelle Lightwood, Alec Lightwood, Luke Garroway, Raphael Santiago, Lily Chen", "Fandom": "Shadowhunters (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by eversall", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-09T00:00:00", "words": "2,790", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Fluff, Humor, Crack-ish", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Simon Lewis/Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	INTERDEPARTMENTAL MEMO:Agents are reminded to keep interactions civil. As you are all well aware, any sighted incident of hostile altercations will result in tolerance workshops for all parties involved.Sincerely,Luke GarrowayInterdepartmental Damage Control SupervisorDirector, Werewolf Division. From: [email protected] To: [email protected]Subject: why are you like thisJace, are you the one pulling random vamp agents out of the corridors and threatening them?? Stop that! Best,Simon LewisActive Field Agent, Department of Night Children. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: Re: why are you like thisSimon, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I would never be threatening the Night Children because they poached you from our department. Never. Regards,Jace LightwoodWeapons SpecialistLead Field Agent, Department of Shadowhunters P.S. – I see you’ve stopped using your Shadowhunters signature. Traitor. . From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: I LITERALLY SAW YOU DO ITI told you a million times, I was only a temporary accounts specialist for DOSH! I’ve been training for months to work with the vamps, stop ruining this for me. I’m a vamp agent, and a really good one too! ALSO I SAW YOU THREATEN LILY SO FOR GOD’S SAKE STOP SHE’S ONE OF MY FEW FRIENDS IN THIS DEPARTMENT AND I NEED HER ON MY SIDE. Best,Simon LewisActive Field Agent, Department of Night Children P.S. – Again, the DOSH signature was temporary. Do you know what that means? .TRAINING NOTICE:Jace,Again? Come to my office. You do realize that as a spy agency, we have cameras everywhere? Now you’re going to have to go to one of Lydia’s seminars. Sincerely,Luke GarrowayInterdepartmental Damage Control DirectorWerewolf Division. Incident Report: Overview: At 7:15 this morning, Jace Lightwood snuck into Simon Lewis’ office, where Simon was sleeping after his last mission debrief, and attempted to smuggle him out. This didn’t work because a) I was in the office across from him, with my door open, staring right at Jace the whole time, and b) Simon woke up right as Jace was carrying him out the door and he hit Jace in the face, sending both of them tumbling to the ground. The smuggling attempt was aborted.Witness: Lily ChenInvolved Members: Jace Wayland, Simon LewisAdditional Comments: Are we sure these boys are spies?. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: please control your brotherIzzy, can you please tell Jace to knock it off? He’s whining at the other vamps, he’s tried to smuggle me out of the department four times, and he won’t stop showing up to my ops. I can’t crack down on this yin fen ring because Jace keeps scaring away my informants! Best,Simon LewisActive Field Agent, Department of Night Children. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: have you considered why he’s doing thatSimon, this isn’t rocket science. Don’t tell me you haven’t figured this out yet. Also, I have a new blood flask I want you to try out, stop by my office. Sincerely,Isabelle LightwoodDirector, Department of Research and DevelopmentOn-Call Field Agent, Department of Shadowhunters.NIGHT CHILDREN MEMOWhy do we keep losing Simon?Raphael SantiagoInterim Director, Department of Night Children. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: come be an accountantDo you really need to be an active field agent? On the field? You can’t even walk down the stairs without tripping, how are you going to be a fucking spy? Regards,Jace LightwoodWeapons SpecialistLead Field Agent, Department of Shadowhunters . From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: it’s not like I just randomly decided to become a spyI passed my field tests with flying colors. The whole reason I joined DODA was because I became a vampire, or did you forget that? Stop trying to convince me to go back to being a boring accountant. Best,Simon LewisActive Field Agent, Department of Night Children .INTERDEPARTMENTAL MEMOA reminder to all agents that job titles are not merely ‘suggestions’, and department assignments are not ‘up for interpretation’.Sincerely,Alec LightwoodDirector, Department of ShadowhuntersHead of Idris Department of Demon Activity.[jaceface]: simon where are u[jaceface]: I’m so bored[jaceface]: where are youuuuuuu[si-fi-mon]: ur kidding me right I’m on a mission[si-fi-mon]: yin fen crackdown[si-fi-mon]: honestly I make a really good California surfer dude. This should always be my undercover personality.[si-fi-mon]: what’s hanging, dude. brahhhh. surfs totally up.[jaceface]: no[jaceface]: never do that[jaceface]: i’m embarrassed to know you. Incident Report: Overview: Joint mission between Simon and I was interrupted by Jace. How did Jace even get out of the training seminar he was supposed to go to with Lydia?Witness: Clary FrayInvolved Members: Jace Wayland, Simon LewisAdditional Comments: How can I get out of Lydia’s seminars?.NIGHT CHILDREN MEMOSeriously, where the hell is Simon.Raphael SantiagoInterim Director, Department of Night Children. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: stop sending those damn memosYou know Jace is just baiting you, don’t worry about it. I’m always back in time for missions. Best,Simon LewisActive Field Agent, Department of Night Children. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: I’ll send as many damn memos as I wantI don’t care what weird courtship ritual Jace thinks he’s doing, we’re this close to cracking the yin fen ring and I need all my agents ready to go at a moment’s notice. Leave off flirting with the Wayland boy for five minutes and come back to our department, Simon. Raphael SantiagoInterim Director, Department of Night Children. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: unfair!!I’M NOT FLIRTING WITH HIM. Best,Simon LewisActive Field Agent, Department of Night Children. From The Desk Of Clary Fray Jace, you’re a good friend and I love you, I really do, but if you show up to one more of the missions that Simon and I go on I will die your hair green while you sleep and hack half of it off. I am not joking, Wayland.. Notebook: Property of Alec Lightwood Mission Debrief Notes: Yin Fen Warehouse Crack DownDepartment: Joint Mission, Shadowhunters + Night ChildrenSupervisors: Alexander Lightwood, Raphael SantiagoAgents Involved: Clary Fray, Simon Lewis, Jace WaylandOverview: Informant left magic encrypted clues to warehouse. Encryption broken by warlock consultant (Note: go thank consultant. Extremely short-notice job, and it was done so well) Lewis still playing role of yin fen smuggler from West Coast. Good/bad idea? Seems like a nervous wreck, but not compromised yet Fray getting very good at inventing new runes to stay hidden, what the fuck Why is Jace here Fray glaring at Jace. Fray never glares at Jace Did Jace go on this mission? Jace insists he was in the neighborhood getting a coffee In the neighborhood?? Of a vampire drug smuggling den? Note: look up nearest Starbucks to warehouse to see is Jace is lying Consensus: Mission successful; follow-up mission to crack top ring of smuggled planned.. From: [email protected] To: [email protected]; [email protected]Subject: i’m being attacked!!!Why is my override authority for missions not working with the yin-fen ring? I’m adding myself to the mission. Regards,Jace LightwoodWeapons SpecialistLead Field Agent, Department of Shadowhunters. From: [email protected] To: [email protected]; [email protected]Subject: DO NOT EVER AGAIN TITLE YOUR EMAIL “I’M BEING ATTACKED” UNLESS YOU ARE BEING PHYSICALLY ATTACKED I MEAN IT JACEThanks for making me run through the Institute like a demented demon, nearly stabbing Simon with my blade when I ran into your office. (Why is Simon in your office? He’s not our accountant anymore, seriously.) Now I have to go to a seminar with Lydia for sensitivity training. (How did you get out of yours? How come you’re the only one who can do that? I’m the head of this entire thing and I can’t do that). Sincerely,Alec LightwoodDirector, Department of ShadowhuntersHead of Idris Department of Demon Activity P.S. – Clary asked me to revoke your override authority for that mission because you’re disturbing her and Simon. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be going with me and Izzy to check out demon activity along the Hudson during the next part of their op?. From: [email protected] To: [email protected]; [email protected]Subject: wow and they call me dramaticSorry Alec, trade secret for getting out of Lydia’s seminars. Simon and I were going to go train when you barged in. We’re working on his aim and stealth. Also, come on, give me back override authority again, I can totally do both ops. Regards,Jace LightwoodWeapons SpecialistLead Field Agent, Department of Shadowhunters. From: [email protected] To: [email protected]; [email protected]Subject: you just send Raj to annoy Lydia, he’s sneaky like thatOh yes, you’re definitely going to be able to be in two places at once. Simon will be fine, stop worrying. He’s been trained well by Luke and Raphael, and now you as well. Sincerely,Isabelle LightwoodDirector, Department of Research and DevelopmentOn-Call Field Agent, Department of Shadowhunters P.S. – working on his aim and stealth?? Is that a euphemism??. From: [email protected] To: [email protected]; [email protected]Subject: I get it now and I am disgustedJace please don’t tell you’re having sex with Simon and this is why you’ve been terrorizing the Night Children. Sincerely,Alec LightwoodDirector, Department of ShadowhuntersHead of Idris Department of Demon Activity. From: [email protected] To: [email protected]; [email protected]Subject: NOI’M NOT HAVING SEX WITH SIMON GOD NO Regards,Jace LightwoodWeapons SpecialistLead Field Agent, Department of Shadowhunters. From: [email protected] To: [email protected]; [email protected]Subject: FWD: NO ….nice job typing in the right email address for our sister, Jace Sincerely,Alec LightwoodDirector, Department of ShadowhuntersHead of Idris Department of Demon Activity From: [email protected] To: [email protected]; [email protected] Subject: NO I’M NOT HAVING SEX WITH SIMON GOD NO Regards, Jace Lightwood Weapons Specialist Lead Field Agent, Department of Shadowhunters . From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: ???I mean….I’m pretty aware of the fact that we’re not having sex. Pretty sure I’d know if that was happening. Thanks for also announcing that to Alec, who’s technically our boss? And I guess it’s nice to know that the idea of being with me repulses you that much. Thanks, Jace. Best,Simon LewisActive Field Agent, Department of Night Children. From the Desk of Jace Wayland Clary, I fucked up. He’s not talking to me anymore. How can I make it up to Simon?. From the Desk of Clary Fray Jace, just tell him the truth.. From the Desk of Jace Wayland How can I make it up in a way THAT ISN’T THAT..NIGHT CHILDREN MEMOWhere’s Simon?Raphael SantiagoInterim Director, Department of Night Children NIGHT CHILDREN MEMONever mind, disregard the last memo. Simon is…in his office. Not being stolen by that Shadowhunter. I’m as shocked as the rest of you.Raphael SantiagoInterim Director, Department of Night Children. Incident Report: Overview: This is going to be the weirdest report to file, but…is Jace Wayland okay? He usually sneaks into our department every other day to see Simon, and he hasn’t in two weeks, and, uh. Well. Just checking to see that he hasn’t been mortally injured or anything. Especially because Simon also seems…sad.Witness: Lily ChenInvolved Members: Jace Wayland, Simon LewisAdditional Comments: I cannot believe I’m filing this report.. Notebook: Property of Alec Lightwood Mission Briefing Notes: Yin Fen Warehouse Crack DownDepartment: Joint Mission, Shadowhunters + Night ChildrenSupervisors: Alexander Lightwood, Raphael SantiagoAgents Involved: Clary Fray, Simon LewisOverview: Clary and Simon will go in tonight to confront Camille Raphael and the rest of his department will wait outside to attack on Simon’s signal Offer other departments’ support (note: Raphael assures me not needed) Set up perimeter around - who just walked in Why is a warlock here (note: Raphael knows him) No one told me warlocks look so gorgeous Fuck I stuttered over my own name he must think I’m stupid He’s amazing oh no Consensus: mission should go off perfectly, magnus gave me his number!!!.[jaceface]: look Simon I know you hate me right now but[jaceface]: please be safe on your mission tonight[jaceface]: I promise I won’t interrupt, I just[jaceface]: please please please be safe[jaceface]: we don’t know what Camille is capable of, and you’re still a fledgling, and[jaceface]: I don’t know how I’d keep going if I lost you, please.[dizzyizzy]: clary asdfghjkl jace won’t stop being annoying about simon[dizzyizzy]: u guys are okay, right?[claryfairy]: omg more than[claryfairy]: we’re all well trained and we’re rounding up the stragglers now[claryfairy]: simon did great with Camille!! :)[dizzyizzy]: thank u so much jace finally shut up[dizzyizzy]: the silence is beautiful, bless[claryfairy]: lmao[dizzyizzy]: I’ll admit, I was a little worried too[claryfairy]: simon’s days of being kidnapped are over, honestly[dizzyizzy]: about you[claryfairy]: oh[claryfairy]: OH[claryfairy]: OHHHHHH[claryfairy]: wanna get dinner tomorrow night?[claryfairy]: to clarify, a lesbian dinner[claryfairy]: like, a date. with me![dizzyizzy]: I’d love to get lesbian dinner with you tomorrow night. <3.[si-fi-mon] u are so dramatic I am fine[si-fi-mon] can’t believe u still think I can’t handle myself on a case[si-fi-mon] you’re really milking the whole ‘care about you angle’ but seriously I can hold my own[jaceface]: you’re an idiot if you think that’s what this is about[si-fi-mon]: what do you mean[si-fi-mon]: jace[si-fi-mon]: NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO STOP RESPONDING[jaceface]: don’t make me say it[jaceface]: please. Incident Report (Never Filed): Overview: On Thursday of this week, when Simon Lewis arrived back at the Institute after his yin-fen op I marched right up to that handsome horrible man, grabbed him by the collar, and kissed him like my life depended on it. It was a good kiss. I slipped some tongue in there. Simon tastes like the ocean and chocolate. Definitely groped him with way too much enthusiasm for the front entrance of the Institute, where everyone was watching. (He has a really nice torso and abs and when you scratch your nails down his stomach he makes this little hitching noise and how can you not kiss that away). He’s surprisingly warm. The best part was when he kissed me back and told me he felt the same way. Witness: Jace WaylandInvolved Members: Jace Wayland, Simon LewisAdditional Comments: I don’t know why I’m writing this report. Simon’s in my bed beside me, sleeping off his exhaustion. (Just sleeping. No funny business. I need him to rest so we can get up to lots of funny business tomorrow night.)I guess…I want to remember this. I want to remember the way it felt to kiss you for the first time, Simon. Maybe one day I’ll give you this and you can read it; I’m halfway in love with you. I have been since you angrily called me Captain America while ranting to Clary. You’re so – good, and wonderful, and kind. Funny, too. Intelligent. Capable. So fucking gorgeous. I just – kissing you felt like coming home. And I hope you feel the same way. Jace, you sap. I can’t believe you waited until our wedding day to give this old report to me. First of all, what a nerd. You wrote an incident report for our first kiss. Secondly – I’ve always felt the same way. Of course I have. I promise I felt the same way back then, and I feel the same way now. We’re getting married, and I’m so happy that I’m crying. (Don’t make fun of me. I just love you so much). See you at the end of the aisle. -Simon
10180100	instead	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Hockey RPF", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by chartreuser", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "1,018", "Additional Tags": "Implied/Referenced Homophobia", "Relationship": "Evgeni Malkin/Alexander Ovechkin", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Is this all living gets you? The room, a gun stuck in your back? -Lynn Emanuel Kicking at Zhenya’s ankles on the plane, Sasha says, “Your thirties is a great time to be alive.” They’re on a flight back to Moscow, it’s the post-season, and they’re going to go to a bar, and pick up girls, and drink, and it’ll be good. It would have to be. It’s not where Sasha imagined himself to be at thirty, but he’ll have to pretend that it is.Zhenya looks up at him from his book, a little lazily. “Global warming,” he counters.Sasha waves a hand at him. “Always so serious,” he says. “Here I’d thought your hairline was the only thing that betrayed your youth.”“What do I need youth for?” Zhenya asks. He closes his book, and rests his head back in his seat, turning a little to face Sasha, his hand dangerously close to Sasha’s own. “You have all of that energy, and where do you spend it? Nowhere. Never on anything important.”“You don’t miss it?” Sasha asks. He reaches out to squeeze Zhenya’s hand, now under his own. He rubs his bruised knuckles, the little scars not yet faded on his fingers. “I do.”Zhenya looks at him like he’s missing something, like there’s been a mistake; something lost in translation. “I don’t,” he says, finally. His words are heavy. “I think there’s a lot to regret, yes, but not much to miss.”Sasha doesn’t flinch, nor does he say anything.“Besides,” Zhenya continues. “We already have what we want, don’t we?”Sasha feels Zhenya’s fingers shift underneath his own, their slotting together. He squeezes Zhenya’s hand tightly, until it must hurt. Zhenya keeps on looking back at him, almost like he’s afraid of what Sasha could say, like his words might hurt him if he weren’t careful enough. It might be true. Carelessness has been a part of Sasha—not as much as people assume, but it’s there, it’s there also in the parts of him that aren’t enough to form a caricature.“Do we,” Sasha says. He looks out of the window, where the clouds have been indistinguishable, and unable to tell him whether or not they are anywhere near Moscow. “I don’t think we do.” He looks down to their hands. “I don’t think we can have everything we want. I think that’s impossible.”Zhenya breathes in, leaning in closer until Sasha can feel his breath on his cheek. In here, Zhenya looks as serious as he’ll ever look, frowning a little, in his rumpled shirt from having just woken up, his one-day stubble rough on his skin, and Sasha—Sasha knows exactly how it’d feel, if he wanted to slide a hand across his jaw to kiss him, to kiss him like only kissing would be enough.“The problem with me,” Sasha interrupts, before there is anything to even interrupt, “Is that I feel I want too much.”“But you can’t have everything,” continues Zhenya.Sasha squeezes his hand again, once. “But I can’t have everything,” he repeats. The plane is so quiet that Zhenya’s breathing is audible, even over the sound of the engines thrumming. In this space—in nowhere and everywhere, Sasha wonders how long they have left until they’ve got a different pair of shoes to fill. He feels like laughing, inexplicably. “I thought this was what I wanted, when I was younger. I thought this was everything.”Zhenya looks sympathetic, in the way that you didn’t want your closeted boyfriend to be: like he understood that even what they have here was a luxury. Sneaking little touches like teenagers in a timezone they had no grasp on. You couldn’t do this back in Magnitogorsk. You could do all this in North America, but only if you didn’t want to go back. Sasha can’t imagine not going back, but he can’t imagine going back forever, either.“In the way all kids do,” Sasha says, leaning into the space between them, courageous if there was a name for it, a little middle finger to the invisible audience that was there, always, there every time they fucked or kissed or held their hands together like this, “I thought that maybe when I reached thirty, the world would be a more accepting place.”“The world is,” Zhenya says.And it is, but it’s not what Sasha meant, and Zhenya knows it. “The world isn’t,” Sasha amends, and he doesn’t bother clarifying what world of his he’s talking about. “The world hasn’t changed, and maybe it won’t change, so I don’t know what I was so stubborn for back then. So I thought, at fifteen, it’d be like this: I get to be a professional athlete, play in the Olympics, and marry a man by the time I was thirty, because a decade and a half is a long time, you know?”“I know.”“And instead,” Sasha says. “Instead.”Instead he has Zhenya’s hands curled up into his own, and they’re watching the aisle for anybody walking by, anybody that might recognise them. “Instead, we have, we’ve got,” Sasha tries, but he can’t think of anything to speak. The exhaustion catches up with him. He grits his teeth together and looks back at Zhenya, their hands tangled, hurting, and they’re hurting each other; they’ve been hurting each other for so long, but Sasha can’t imagine stopping, he can’t imagine letting go.When they were fifteen, Sasha had already known Zhenya, swatting at him with a hockey stick whenever they happened to cross paths, Sasha grinning toothily as he still had all his teeth. Zhenya would hit him back, and it’d be a short little while of bickering, and even then Sasha knew that he couldn’t be too friendly, that it was important to keep his distance. Sometime in the future, was what he thought when he was younger, and maybe the world would be more progressive then, or maybe it would hurt a little less, maybe there’d at least be something, that one day, if he waited long enough, there’d be something.

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