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David brings Patrick back to Schitt’s Creek and says very little as he shows him the broken pieces of his past: the motel, the café, even the Amish farm where he’d stopped for a night during his madcap escape to New York all those years ago. They buy fresh churned butter with homemade bread and admire their hand-stitched quilts and an idea blossoms in David that cannot be contained.
“If you really want this, if you really want to build something together,” David finally says one evening, curled up in the crook of Patrick’s arm, hand splayed across his chest, “I know how we do it.”
And Patrick just nods and says, “Yes. Let’s do it.” And so they stay.
They find an apartment in town, sign the lease for the vacant general store, and pour what remains of Patrick’s savings from his former life into their shared dream. They oscillate over the name, talking circles around each of the possibilities, before Patrick declares Rose Apothecary just pretentious enough and the oscillations cease. David insists on a sand and stone color scheme for the store inspired, he claims, by the Whitney because underneath it all he’s a hopeless romantic. They’ve both never been happier, never been more satisfied by a day’s work, never tired of falling into each other’s arms at night after long days spent dancing within each other’s sight on the storeroom floor.
Alexis calls Patrick a "sweet little button face", Moira declares Patrick sees David for "all that he is", while Johnny just claps Patrick on the back and calls him "son." And suddenly, inextricably, undeniably, Patrick is one of them. The town embraces them and their store in the way only Schitt’s Creek can do, integrating them into their celebrations and community events, baseball leagues and theatrical endeavors. One is rarely seen without the other, so much so that their names start to bleed together in the townspeople’s minds. Roland tries to call them Davrick, once, to their faces, to which David replies, “Oh no. We’re not doing that.” But he’s secretly delighted, thinks they’ve unlocked gold level status that very few relationships have achieved and it fills his chest with something he now recognizes as pride.
When asked where they met, though, they simply say New York. If pressed, David might say the Whitney. Patrick will say through work. Very few people know the truth—Stevie, of course, and Alexis, who no doubt tells Ted. Not their parents. Never their parents even though David suspects that Moira has guessed the truth. Patrick tells David it’s going to be hard enough to tell his parents he’s gay let alone how he met the man he now knows will be his husband.
“My parents are good people,” Patrick confesses to David on their way to meet the Brewers for the first time, “But I don’t want them to have any reason to judge you. I want them to love you for exactly who you are now, not what you’ve been. Is that okay?”
And David nods along like it could be that simple and is surprised to find that it is. Marcy and Clint fold him into their lives like their son has found a rare treasure and they love David for the way he slips joy into every corner of Patrick’s once suffocating life. They see the way Patrick looks at David like he’s found the sun and how he laughs with him in a way they’d thought he’d forgotten and they whisper to each other, “Yes, this one” and don’t ask for more.
It doesn’t take long before Patrick tricks David into going on a real hike with an incline and trees and dirt and squirrels and though David complains the whole way, the view is so heart-stoppingly breathtaking and the gold rings Patrick slides onto his fingers so majestically right, David's ecstatic yes reverberates through the valley and then settles into their chests as their lips find each other again and again and again.
Patrick and David marry in a summer ceremony, Patrick in his blue Prada suit, David wearing a black tie with rows of white roses. The twilight sun is sliding into the horizon as they dance together cheek to cheek, whispering a world of dreams into each other’s ears.
“Do you remember how I told you I wanted the fairy tale?” David asks, adjusting Patrick’s tie just like he did the first night they met.
“It rings a bell.”
“I think this is it. This is the fairy tale.”
“You think so?”
“You told me once what David means. Do you remember?”
“I remember.” Patrick smiles his soft, indulgent smile, the one that only David can pull from his lips and wonders where this conversation is going. Patrick has learned all of David’s keys, knows how to play him better than any piano now. There’s a lightness to David’s words, but Patrick also knows David’s being serious and he can’t tease him too much right now or David won’t reveal himself.
“Do you know what Patrick means?”
Patrick shrugs, but his face shines like it always does when David’s face is aimed at his, like he’s incandescent with happiness. “I always thought it had something to do with the saint from Ireland.”
David shakes his head, biting his lips to not spoil the surprise too soon. “It means born of noble blood.”
“Huh,” Patrick says, warmth spreading out from the center of his being like it always does in David’s embrace.
“You see? You really are a prince. And you rescued me, Patrick, my prince.”
“You rescued me right back, David, my beloved.”
“You know, I think ours is better than all the other fairy tales.”
And David gives that wry grin of his, the one Patrick loves best, that twists his mouth to one side, but still causes that dimple in his cheek to pop out, and it still makes Patrick's knees a little less steady whenever it appears. Patrick drops his eyes to David's mouth before he leans in, pressing his lips to David's, falling deeper and deeper, and thinks about happily ever afters.
“Yes, David,” Patrick finally says, meeting David’s eyes, their two hearts of gold beating as one. “It’s better than all the rest.” |
Life goes on. Things change, people leave; it’s a fact of life. Q was well aware of this fact, and yet he never really thought about the possibility of Bond being the one who left. Sure, he was a womaniser, had been “killed” multiple times in the line of duty. But he’d always come back.
Not this time, though. This time he’d walked away, and he’d taken Q’s pride and joy with him. Well, it had been for Bond, but still. Q wasn’t sure which he was more upset about, the loss of Bond or the loss of the redone Aston Martin.
Q liked to joke with Tanner that it was the car, but that was merely because Q hated to think that anyone had that sort of effect on him, let alone that person being none other than Bond. Hell, he’d gone into the field and returned rather unscathed in search for Bond.
Now, sitting at his desk, Q felt empty. The day to day seemed monotonous, in a way, with Bond gone. The double-oh programme was reinstated, but it wasn’t the same without 007. M kept Q busy with new projects, rebuilding from the ground up, so to speak, but at night when Q was at home he had nothing but time to think.
He rode the tube and thought about Bond searching for Silva, about his voice in Bond’s ear. When he got home and fed his cats, he thought about how Bond seemed surprised at his outburst about mortgages and cats to feed, as if Q didn’t have his own life, even if that life consisted only of his cats and his lonely flat.
After months, MI6 righted itself in the aftermath of C and the shitstorm that occurred. Q resurfaced from his self-implemented dungeon stay, in a slightly more light space that he made his own. He pushed his department towards the future, a future that C had been trying to get them to, only Q was in charge of it, and he wouldn’t let it get into the wrong hands. He injected all of his agents with the blood cell tracker, gave them all new earpieces that were practically undetectable, as well as waterproof, and watches similar to the one he’d given Bond.
Q spent most of his time in R&D, rarely finding himself in the console room, helping the agents in the field. He found it gave him anxiety, but not for the usual reasons. He was always calm under pressure, though he didn’t quite like the adrenaline rush in the field, so it wasn’t that. No, instead, his hands shook because he wanted nothing more than to hear that smug laughter on the other end of the comms. He wanted banter, to see those blue eyes crinkle when he cracked a joke.
He found that he rarely joked anymore.
“Stupid,” Q muttered to himself as he paused in the middle of soldering a Geiger counter he’d been working on. He turned around in his swivel chair, stretching his back as he sighed. It was late and his tea had gone cold. “Bollocks.”
“Q,” a voice said, bringing Q’s attention to the doorway. Q adjusted his glasses, looking quickly away as he set the soldering iron back onto its stand. He cleared his throat, standing as the figure walked into the light.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, Bond?” Q asked, making sure to hide his delight. The last thing that James Bond needed was his ego stroked. Q was quite aware just how often James got what he wanted, and Q was among the people James knew he could get anything that he wanted from. Q was well aware of his own weakness for Bond, since it had gotten him in trouble more than once in his short time as Quartermaster. Still, there Bond was, standing before him in one of his bespoke suits that fit him perfectly. Q tried not to mess with his own appearance out of spite, his hands slipping into his pockets in an attempt at being casual he knew he couldn’t accomplish.
“Need another favour?”
“Not quite,” James said, giving Q a smile. Q’s face remained stoic in the face of Bond’s charms. He had to at least attempt some form of professionalism, despite the fact that his heart wouldn’t stop beating so fast he knew Bond could probably hear it. “I’ve just come from M’s office, and he suggested that I come down on my own and tell you the news.”
“News?” Q asked, licking his lips. He didn’t dare hope.
“The fact that I’m back,” James said, tugging on his cuffs. Q’s eyes moved to Bond’s hands to his eyes, which were on Q’s without preamble. He expected a reaction from Q.
“Back,” Q stated, looking away from him. Instead, he looked to his workstation, which was a bit untidy. He began straightening it up, unsure of what to do. “Did you find retirement boring?”
“Something like that,” Bond said, standing obscenely and unnecessarily close to Q.
Q stepped away from him, his eyes closing when he could smell Bond’s cologne. Q would know that smell anywhere, despite trying to forget it.
“Did he give you an assignment already? I didn’t receive a memo,” Q said, his voice coming out harsher than he’d intended it to.
“Not yet,” Bond said, raising his eyebrow, but saying nothing as Q balled his fists at his side. “I have to go through a series of tests, standard protocol, you know.”
“Of course,” Q said, still unsure as to why Bond was down in R&D. “Is that all, 007?”
“Yes, Q,” Bond said, nodding at him before heading out. Once Bond was gone, Q sat down in his chair with his head in his hands. He had just gotten used to the fact that Bond was out of his life, and now he’d walked back into it as if it were nothing.
-
Q wasn’t dressed when Bond appeared in his flat. He was in pyjama bottoms, but shirtless, with his hair wet after a shower and his cats at his feet, licking up the tea he’d spilled after screaming and dropping his favourite mug on the floor.
“Damn it, Bond,” Q hissed as he bent over, picking up the shattered pieces of his mug. “Damn you.”
James helped pick up the pieces as well, having the decency of looking shamed, his face red. He was in a suit, like he normally was, only his jacket was off, showing his suspenders and shoulder holster. Q noticed the jacket in the corner, hanging over his kitchen chair. Q glared at him as he stood.
“You can’t just break into my flat,” Q said.
“The door was open,” James said, his hands slipping casually into his suit trousers in a way that Q could only wish to accomplish.
Q adjusted his specs, eyes glaring. “I highly doubt that, Bond,” Q said, throwing the broken mug into the bin. He grabbed a rag from the kitchen, wiping up the tea before his cats finished it off. He moved them one by one out of the way in vain, holding his breath when James bent over to pick one of them up, holding it close as he pet it.
Q watched, his mouth hanging open momentarily before he went back to the task at hand. “Why are you here?” he asked, finally. He rinsed out the tea-soaked rag, then draped it over the faucet to dry out. He looked down at himself; he was still mostly undressed.
He felt James’ gaze on him as he walked towards his bedroom to find something more suitable. James followed, leaning against the door frame as Q pulled on a jumper, messing with his hair afterwards.
“I’m here to say I’m sorry, Q.”
Q laughed. It wasn’t a particularly loud laugh, or genuine. It was derisive, appalling of Q to laugh as James looked at him with melancholy eyes. Q covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes closing. When he dropped his hand, his face was stoic as ever.
“Sorry for what, exactly?” Q asked, crossing his arms. They stood close, close enough that Q could see the rise and fall of Bond’s chest, the way his eyes darted from Q’s eyes to his lips. Instinctively, Q licked his lips, breaking eye contact with him. James’ intense gaze was somehow too much for him to handle.
“For leaving,” James said.
“I think you’re apologising to the wrong person,” Q stated. “Shouldn’t you be telling M, or Moneypenny--”
“No, I don’t think so,” James whispered, taking another step closer. “I think I’m exactly where I need to be.” Q’s cheeks flushed, despite his best efforts to remain unaffected by Bond’s whims or charms. James was his weakness, after all, and Bond knew it, knew he could exploit it. Anything from helping him disappear, to disobeying M’s orders, to going after him in the field.
“You rebuilt my car,” James said, his head tilting to the side so that Q would look him in the eye. Q blinked rapidly, swallowing as his lips parted to speak, but James kept going. “You helped me when you didn’t need to, and after I left, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Q’s stomach did somersaults as he held his breath. He could feel his body shaking, though he wasn’t frightened.
James reached out a hand, placing it on Q’s shoulder. He looked at it, then back at James. “I’m not wrong, am I? In coming here.”
“So arrogant,” Q found himself saying, his voice only slightly unsteady. “Presumptuous, as always, Bond.” His hand remained, though his eyes showed his confusion as he looked at Q. “I’m not one of your girls. I’ve a mind to step away--”
Q took a moment, then did just that, taking a step back and letting Bond’s hand fall from him. He adjusted his specss again, hugging his arms to his body.
“I’d ask you to please not come here,” Q said, finding the strength in his voice once more. “These are my private quarters, and I’d hate to have to move, again.”
“As you like,” James said. Q couldn’t look at him as he gathered his jacket, and then, without another word, left. Q locked the deadbolt behind him, resting his head against the door while his cats meowed around his feet, rubbing against him.
-
“Did you hear?” Moneypenny asked. Q looked up from where he sat hunched over his work station. Q’s lips were in a fine line while he tried to suppress the urge to scream that he’d known from the exact moment Bond stepped into the building.
“Yes,” Q said.
“I knew he’d come back, Queen and country and all. He’s too good to leave.” Q wanted to roll his eyes, so instead he went back to work. “He’s passed all his tests.”
“The wonder child,” Q murmured, calling Bond a child when he had at least ten or fifteen years on him. “Can do no wrong.”
“Are you alright?” Moneypenny asked. Q pushed his chair away from his desk, using the swivel casters to glide to another work area, his desk with his laptop open. He had Bond’s file brought up; he’d already been given a new assignment. Q gave one of his technicians the job, letting them outfit Bond under the guise of being busy.
“I’m fine, Moneypenny,” Q said, giving her a small smile of reassurance that she surely saw right through. She let it slide, though.
“I asked, you know.”
“Asked what?” Q inquired, taking a sip of his tea before sending an email confirmation about a meeting.
“Why he came back, of course.”
“And why was that?” Q asked, finally turning around to look at her. She had her hands on her hips, an eyebrow lifted. “What’s that look for?”
“For a genius, sometimes you aren’t very smart.”
“Don’t be demeaning, Moneypenny, it doesn’t suit.” Q took another sip of his tea. “Bond came back because he doesn’t like the monotony of civilian life. He can’t function properly without directive, without purpose. As long as he’s alive, he’ll always come back,” Q said with a sigh.
“You know me so well.”
Q turned around, wide-eyed, to find Bond standing back away from Moneypenny, who looked just as surprised as Q felt at the fact that Bond had just appeared in the room.
“Moneypenny,” James said as he looked at Q, not breaking eye contact. “Do you mind giving us a moment?”
“Of course,” Eve said as she headed towards the door. Q turned back around, typing on his computer, hiding his mortification well. The air in the room felt suffocating and Bond’s gaze penetrating. Q jumped when he realised that Bond stood directly behind him, when he felt Bond’s hand on the back of his chair.
“You handed me over to someone else,” Bond said.
“Yes,” Q said, looking up at Bond for a moment before tearing his gaze away. “I felt like my involvement wasn’t necessary for such a standard mission.”
“Q,” Bond said, which made Q shiver. Q took his specs off, rubbing at his eyes as he sighed.
“I won’t be swayed,” Q said, standing, pushing his chair back so that Bond had to take a step back away from him as well. “I won’t -- you used me, 007.” Q shook with quiet rage as he let his emotions bubble up to the surface. “You knew that I would do anything for you, and you exploited that to get exactly what you wanted from me.”
Q took a moment to calm down, shuffling papers at his desk that didn’t need to be shuffled. He looked to the door, which was closed, then took a sip of his tea while Bond stood there in silence.
“So if, as Quartermaster, I see it fit to have someone else be your handler for a simple mission, then I think I’m entitled to do that, do you not agree?” Q asked, finally looking Bond in the eye.
“I didn’t--”
“You didn’t think about the people around you, did you? We’re all pawns to you. Me, Tanner, Moneypenny. We are a means to an end to you. I’m sorry, James,” Q said, the fact that he used Bond’s first name not lost on him. “But I don’t have it in me to let you in again.”
“I’m not leaving again,” Bond said, as if that was his only bargaining chip. “It was a mistake.”
“We all have to live with our mistakes,” Q said, dismissing Bond by turning his back to him.
“Do you consider helping me a mistake?”
Q’s shoulders sagged, his head shaking. Bond was insufferable and arrogant, but the inflection in his voice was what made Q pause. For the first time, Bond sounded vulnerable. Q turned back around, facing Bond.
“No,” Q said, crossing his arms once more defensively. “But probably not for the reasons that you’re hoping.”
“And what do I hope?” Bond asked, taking a step closer.
“You want me to say that it wasn’t a mistake to help you because you’ve got me in your little pocket,” Q said. “But I’m not.” It was a lie, though Q didn’t want Bond to know that. “I did it because we couldn’t let Spectre win, we couldn’t let C’s measures take effect. Cyber security on that level would have been catastrophic.”
“Thank you, Q,” Bond said, face dangerously close to his own. “For telling me what I needed to hear.”
Q closed his eyes, covering his face in his hands as Bond left for his mission. If Q listened in, no one would know. He kept himself on mute the entire time, just to be sure. Bond was back in England within a week, given a few days rest before he was to return.
Q took a few days off, for himself. It was a rarity, given his chosen field, but M granted it to him as if he knew Q’s reasoning. He pretended that Bond had nothing to do with it, that he could have asked off for any other reason. Q couldn’t remember the last time that he’d had a holiday, certainly not since MI6 had been blown up, since he’d been appointed as Quartermaster. He’d barely gotten weekends, or two days off in a row, let alone an actual holiday.
He stayed in London, but treated himself to shows in the West End, sleeping in, and tinkering on his own gadgets that had very little to do with his work. He drank tea, did a bit of shopping, napped with his cats, actually folded his socks instead of shoving them into the drawer to deal with later.
After a day and a half, Q was bored. Boredom was what brought him to MI6 in the first place, a young hacker who had too much time on his hands and not enough discipline. He wasn’t innocent, not by a long shot, though he often looked it with the way he dressed. Q was confident in his abilities, knew his capabilities, only with the wisdom to be on the side of the law, and he kept his curiosity at bay. He wasn’t a hacker anymore, but the Quartermaster of MI6.
So he only hacked when he was bored, and tinkering could only occupy him for a certain amount of time before it became monotonous. Q didn’t necessarily need to hack into MI6, but he did anyways, checking for any back doors. It was his own system, so it was odd that he broke into it, but there he was, in the midst of their system. He wrote down notes, things to change and code that needed to be updated.
It was rather similar to work, only Q was in pyjamas and on his couch with a cat in his lap, making it difficult to type. A knock on his door made him jump, the unexpected sound even scaring his cat. Holding onto the feline, Roscoe, Q made his way to the door, looking in the eye hole only to find none other than James Bond at his door. Grumbling, Q reluctantly opened the door.
“Bond,” Q said, holding onto Roscoe as James looked him over.
“Are you ever dressed?” James asked. He, of course, was in an impeccable navy suit. It went well with Q’s plaid pyjama bottoms.
“I like to be comfortable when home,” Q stated, opening the door wide enough that Bond could walk in. When he did, Q noted that he had a slight limp, though he didn’t mention it. “What can I do for you, 007?”
“M said you’d taken a few days off,” James said, looking around, his eyes landing on Q’s work station. “I wanted to check on you.”
“Check on me?” Q scoffed. “Whatever for?”
Bond’s gaze pierced through him, making him look away. “I was worried.”
Q couldn’t help but smile, albeit a little condescendingly, as he walked away, kissing his cat’s head before letting him down. “I’m quite alright. No need to worry.”
“Good,” James said, looking around the room once more.
“Would you like some tea?” Q asked, offering as he walked into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
“If you’re having a cup.”
“Always,” Q said. “I’ll be right back.” He went into his room to grab a jumper, which reminded him it wasn’t the first time that Bond had intruded, forcing him to get dressed despite the fact that it was the middle of the day. Still, Q was barefoot, wearing comfy clothes, and it was his holiday. He was allowed to be comfortable. “Do you ever wear clothes besides suits?” Q asked as he re-emerged. “I often think about you at home, and can’t picture you in anything else.”
Bond looked at him with a devilish smile, predatory. Q ignored it with a wave of his hand as he poured the boiling water into two mugs, letting the loose leaf tea bags steep. He eyed the clock, an internal reminder to not over steep them, so they wouldn’t turn bitter.
“I can dress down,” Bond said. “But it’s rare that I get the chance.”
“I suppose not,” Q said, leaning against the countertop. A silence fell between them, with Bond mostly staring at him while he tried not to bite his lip. “Do you take cream or sugar?”
“No,” Bond said. “Honey?”
“Yes,” Q said, glad he could fidget around his kitchen for a moment instead of thinking about Bond wearing something other than a suit. He got out the honey, then fixed his own tea. He used amber sugar crystals for his own, but watched as Bond stirred in honey.
“While I was gone,” Bond said, blowing on his tea before sipping it. “I couldn’t help but think about you.”
Q didn’t want to rise to the bait, but there was little to be done about the matter. Bond wanted to talk, and there wasn’t really a way around it.
“In what manner?” Q asked, stirring his tea though it was no longer necessary.
“The fact that you came after me. I remembered, while flying a plane, that Moneypenny told me that you hate flying.”
“I do,” Q said, drinking his tea. He really didn’t want to talk about going after James. It had been an ordeal, to say the least. He’d made a fool out of himself and Bond had brought a girl, a woman, to his room when Q had been positive that Bond had been interested in him. It was embarrassing.
“Q--”
“James,” Q said, sighing. “I don’t expect you to understand the sheer amount of paperwork that happened in the aftermath of Spectre and C. That alone will forever be seared into my brain, overshadowing my every turn when I think about going out into the field again. It won’t happen again.”
“I was going to say thank you,” James said. Q stared, floored for a moment, unable to speak because James Bond rarely said thank you. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Well,” Q said, setting his mug down, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re welcome, I suppose. But don’t expect it to happen again. I’d rather stay safely behind my computer. I didn’t fancy being chased, you see.”
“I would rather you not be chased, either.”
“As long as that’s settled,” Q said, smiling. Bond smirked at him, and he couldn’t help but hope. They always bantered so easily, since the first encounter, but Q knew Bond too well. He was all smooth words and silver tongue. He never stayed, his bed grew cold after a night together. Q knew that he wouldn’t survive that.
“I wanted to explain, about Madeline--”
“There’s really no need,” Q said, clearing his throat. “I’m not, you’re under no professional obligation to me, Bond.”
“I didn’t mean for it to be professional,” James stated. “The opposite, in fact.”
“Oh,” Q said, swallowing down a gulp of tea.
“I was with her,” Bond said, leaning on the counter close to Q, facing him as they held onto their tea. Q thought it rather intimate, to be sure, but he tried not to make it affect him in any way, at least outwardly. Inwardly, he was screaming. “We were off the coast of Spain, in a yacht. I’d stored the Aston away, but that’s besides the point,” he said, smiling. “We were drinking champagne, and I couldn’t think of her. I thought of you, and your cats and mortgage.”
“Why?” Q asked. Bond sighed, shaking his head.
“I don’t have an answer for that, except that I also thought of Silva, about something he said to me before I used your distress signal. He spoke of a lot of things, in a roundabout way, but something that stuck with me was him saying that I was alone in the world. I agreed with him at the time, but I don’t anymore. You and Moneypenny showed me that I wasn’t alone, and you were right, that I used you and I shouldn’t have. I should have trusted you, but I didn’t, not really."
“I was there, with Madeline, but I didn’t think of her when I touched her,” Bond said, not looking Q in the eye. “I thought about what it would be like to touch you instead; what it would be like.” Q closed his eyes, frowning. “I knew that you wanted me, that you’d helped me because of it, that I could take the car, that you’d make me disappear.”
“Bond,” Q said, his voice trembling. “I wouldn’t presume--”
“Is it not true?” Bond asked, turning to look at him once more. “If I asked right now, would you give yourself to me?”
Q shook his head minutely. “No,” he whispered. “No.” He said the word with more conviction. “I’ve said it before, but I’m not-- I won’t fall to my knees because you raise an eyebrow at me.”
“I didn’t say that,” James said.
“You just implied it,” Q hissed. “You spoke of being with Madeline, then thinking of me and you expect me to fall into your arms with the snap of your fingers. I may find you attractive, Bond, but that doesn’t mean that I’ll drop my trousers--”
“I’m sorry,” Bond said, stepping forward, reaching out for Q. As soon as his hands were on Q, he pulled Q close and Q let him. Clinging to Bond’s suit, Q pressed his cheek to his shoulder.
“You left,” Q whispered. “I went after you, and you left.”
“I made a mistake,” Bond said, his hand smoothed down Q’s back. “She wasn’t what I wanted, what I needed.”
“You’re sure?” Q asked, scared for himself as much as he was for Bond. They were so close to a moment of no return. He could be fucking up his entire career, but he wasn’t sure if he actually cared or not.
“We’d gone through a lot together, and honestly, that forms a bond between two people, but at the end of the day that’s all it was. I was the last person her father talked to, with everything we did together I thought what I’d been feeling was real, like what I had before--”
“Vesper,” Q said. He’d read Bond’s file, knew about his past. James nodded his head, agreeing with Q’s assessment. “But it wasn’t?”
“We didn’t get along,” James said. “Not really. She tried to get into my brain, being a doctor and all.”
“Right,” Q said, realising that they were still in each other’s arms. Suddenly feeling awkward, he stepped back. Bond let him, though his arms came to rest on Q’s waist. He remained within kissing distance of Q.
“She left; it was her idea. It was mine to come back to you.”
“To MI6.”
“To you, first.”
“Why me?” Q asked.
“M isn’t the M I knew, the M I trusted. He’s proven himself, now, but my loyalty is with you, with Tanner, though it pains me to say it. I won’t be his puppet, but I’ll be yours. I’ll pull any trigger you ask me to, Q.”
“I don’t know what to say to that,” Q said, finding it difficult to look at anything except for Bond’s lips. “Except that the reason I helped you against my better judgement, was because I trusted that you knew what you were doing. You’ve proven yourself time and time again to get the job done, and I knew you had England’s best interest at heart.”
“Always.”
“But what if by you coming back to MI6, this means that one time you won’t come home?” Q asked. “What will I do, then?”
“It won’t come to that,” James said, leaning forward, so sure of his movements. When his lips brushed across Q’s, he didn’t push James away. “I’ll always come back.”
“You can’t promise me that,” Q said as James’ fingers carded through Q’s hair.
“You’ll have to keep me safe, then. If you watch my back, nothing will happen.”
“You only want a new car,” Q teased as Bond kissed him again. He tried not to think of the consequences.
“I assure you, that isn’t all that I want,” James said as he stepped closer, pressing their bodies together. “I’d like you for myself.”
Q’s mind held onto that sentence for a moment, processing it before pressing two fingers against James’ lips, stopping him from kissing him again.
“Wait,” Q said, looking in James’ eyes. “I know you, James,” Q said as he took a step back. “Too well to know that you want me.”
“Do you?” James asked. “Do you actually know me? Then tell me, what do I want?” James’ look was intense, his face grave as he dropped his hands from Q’s face and hair.
“You want to fuck me,” Q said vehemently, though he hadn’t meant it to come out that way. “Then tomorrow you’ll want it to be someone else.”
“After what I just--” James began, but stopped. “I just told you I left Madeline to come back.”
“Yes,” Q said, yanking on his hair. “Because you can’t commit, Bond. You can’t be with just one person. That isn’t who you are. You leave a trail of women behind you, most of whom end up dead. Even if you aren’t the one to pull the trigger, it’s true, despite your best efforts.”
“Q--”
“I’m terribly sorry,” Q said, covering his mouth with his hand. “That was rude of me, but you’ve-- fuck, Bond. What exactly are you doing in my flat?”
James laughed, his hand on Q’s waist, clenched in his jumper; the entire scenario was odd. Q wasn’t quite sure what was happening despite being present for the ordeal.
“You’re right,” James said, nodding his head as he looked at Q’s lips as he licked them. “You’re absolutely right about everything, as always, Q.”
“Are you being contrary?” Q asked, his brow furrowed.
“No,” James said. “I leave a trail of bodies behind me, no matter how hard I try. Sleeping with someone is like them signing a death warrant.” He cupped Q’s face in his hands. “And I want to protect you, keep you alive.” Wide eyed, Q swallowed as Bond kissed his forehead. “If you’ll watch my back, I’ll watch yours. That’s all I can ask.”
“Of course, Bond,” Q said, the immediate sense of loss as Bond stepped away from him all encompassing. He wasn’t sure what just transpired, the ghost of Bond’s lips still on his own as James walked away from him, touching his own lips before disappearing out the door.
“What the fuck,” Q said as he locked the deadbolt behind Bond. “What the bloody-- shit!” Q said as he ran into his bedroom, where his phone had been plugged in and charging. He thought about calling Bond, but thought better of it.
He called Tanner instead.
“Tanner,” Bill said as he answered the phone. Q said down, adjusting his glasses as he blinked rapidly, trying to decide the best course of action.
“Tanner, it’s Q.”
“Q? Are you alright?”
“Quite,” Q said, holding back a sigh. “I rang, most specifically, to tell you that I’m coming back to work early. Holidays are overrated.”
“I see,” Bill said, elongating the word ‘see’. “Did Bond stop by, then? Tell you about the mission?”
“The mission?” Q asked, confused. “What mission?”
“Oh, did he not stop by? He’s to go out to Spain, demanded you be his handler, which M told him a firm no on -- I assumed he’d go straight to you.” Q sat down, running his fingers through his hair. That’s all Bond wanted, for Q to do his job and be his handler. Kiss or no, Q had to do his job. “He threw a bit of a tantrum, actually--”
“Thank you, Tanner,” Q said, sitting up straight on his bed; it helped when he needed to speak authoritatively. “I’ll be in straight away.”
“That isn’t necessary--”
“I don’t want a double-oh going into the field without at least overseeing the mission and outfitting them myself. The trial run didn’t go as I would have liked.”
“See you soon then, Q.”
“Ta,” Q said. Hanging up, then tossing his phone to the bed as he groaned, rubbing at his eyes. “This is a load of shit,” Q said as he made himself stand up. He needed to shower, get dressed, then prepare Bond for Spain.
Q walked into headquarters, tablet in hand, with a technician beside him and an assistant behind him, both of whom were talking a mile a minute as they filled him in on everything he’d missed, bringing him up to date on the situation in Spain on his way to M’s office. Moneypenny buzzed him in to M’s office without waiting. Inside, of course, was Bond.
“Q,” M said without standing. “Hope your holiday was worthwhile.”
“Immensely,” Q said, looking at M instead of Bond. It was safer that way.
“Please, sit.” Q sat opposite M, next to Bond, his tablet in his lap with emails popping up by the second. Q felt oddly calm, considering the high stress of his job.
“I’m sure by now you’ve been debriefed,” M said. “007 and 009 will be going in together in this, undercover.”
“Of course,” Q said, typing everything M said on to his tablet. He could feel Bond’s gaze on him.
“They’re to be a couple.” Q’s fingers paused as he looked up, catching Bond’s eye and then Mallory’s.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“The mark, he’s gay, and he’s having a party at his villa,” Bond said nonchalantly. “009 and I will be blending in.”
“Ah,” Q said, biting his bottom lip.
“We’re going to implement your new earpieces, to be worn by the agents for the duration of the mission, no exceptions, Bond.”
“Understood.”
“Q, who have you assigned to them for this?”
Q clutched his tablet tight, his heart beating harshly in his chest. “I’ll be overseeing the mission,” Q said, looking down at the tablet and pulling up the quick specs he’d done. “With assistants relieving me when necessary.”
Bond sat there, smug, playing with the button of his suit. That was exactly what he’d wanted to hear: that Q would be his handler. Q wasn’t sure if he should give in to Bond’s every want, but it helped the mission, and that was all that mattered.
“Thank you, Q,” M said as a dismissal.
In the hall, Bond caught up with Q as he walked with his assistant and technician, who had waited for him outside the meeting.
“Not a word,” Q said, glaring at Bond, who walked like he owned the ground they walked on. In a way, Q wasn’t sure he didn’t, the way he had not only Q, but M and Tanner as well, wrapped around his finger.
“I didn’t say anything,” Bond said. Q looked him up and down, his eyes narrowing.
“After you’ve been to medical, come see me.”
“As you wish,” Bond said, smirking at him, veering down another hallway. Q didn’t speak the rest of the way to his department.
If anyone was surprised to see him, they didn’t let on. It took about an hour for Bond to show up, with Moneypenny in tow, who delivered a stack of papers to one of Q’s assistants. Q wanted MI6 to go paperless, but with everything from Silva to C, it was proving difficult to do so.
“What’s that, then?” Q asked Moneypenny instead of paying attention to Bond first, who was much like a puppy who wanted all eyes on him. Q kept an eye on him as he walked around the table of half finished gadgets in Q’s office.
They’d moved above ground again, finally, with Q feeling safer now that the mess with C was over and done with. He hated moving offices again, but hopefully this time it was for good. Besides, he’d hated having to get to his workplace by boat.
“M wants a more detailed breakdown of the department’s personnel and their daily tasks.” Q glared at the stack of paperwork; it would take ages for him to do that. Q Branch wasn’t small, but perhaps he could pawn it off to one of his assistants. “There’s a lot of reworking happening, and he wants to make sure we’re operating at our highest calibre after everything that’s happened.”
“Yes, well,” Q said, sighing, finally looking at Bond. “Alright, Bond. Follow me.” He nodded his goodbye to Moneypenny, would surely have lunch with her later to see exactly what she meant by her remark. What they needed wasn’t a reworking of the hierarchy at MI6 -- they needed stability. The last thing they needed was another shakeup. “Where is 009?” Q asked when they were behind the closed door of his office.
“He’ll be done, still at medical,” James said, his eyes searching Q’s, hands casually in his pockets, his stance wide as ever while Q took up as little room as possible as he clutched the tablet against his chest. When he realised their differing stances, he straightened up.
“Is this what you wanted?” Q asked.
“Yes,” Bond stated plainly, his eyes inscrutable. “Exactly so.”
“Do please return everything in working order this time,” Q whispered. “Including yourself.”
“I’ll try my best, Q,” Bond said, leaning forward, their lips ghosting over each other before Q’s hand on Bond’s chest stopped him.
“The cameras.”
“You don’t have cameras in your own office, do you?”
Q’s eyes searched Bond’s. He found it incredibly difficult to look away; it was so easy to get lost in them.
“Of course,” Q said. “They’re just off when I’m in here.”
“Then--”
Q stepped away from Bond as the door to his office opened, revealing one of his assistants. Q could feel his cheeks redden, though his facial expression remained neutral.
“Everything’s ready,” the assistant said.
“Perfect,” Q said, leading the way for Bond to follow. He’d sent the list to be pulled for the mission ahead of himself so that everything would be ready. In the hallway they met up with 009, who easily fell into step with Bond as they were handed their guns, tickets, watches, and earpieces. Q stood aside as his assistant explained everything; he’d been training them so he wouldn’t have to always be the one to hand over the gear, though it was one of his favourite parts. James looked at him as he put the watch on, remembering Q’s quip the last time. There were no jokes, no amusing banter. Q merely stood there, silent, watching Bond with his gear.
“No car?” Bond asked. Q shook his head.
“Not this time.”
“Pity,” Bond said as he and 009 left.
Before going back to his office, Q went to splash water on his face. He was flustered, probably because Bond had tried to kiss him at work. His nerves were shot, and it had little to do with the fact that Bond was about to walk into a probable trap -- his undercover work never went smoothly. By the time he made it to his workstation and put in his own earpiece, Bond and 009 were chatting. The conversation was stilted, barely contained anger would be Q’s best descriptor. He had no idea what had Bond practically growling at 009 already, but he decided to make himself known.
“Q signing on,” he said.
“Q,” Bond said at the same time as 009. “How good of you to join us.”
“Sorry I’m late,” Q said, though he wasn’t the least bit sorry. “Let’s make this quick and painless, shall we?”
Basically, 009 and 007 disliked each other immensely. They rarely worked together, that much was obvious, and the ruse of them being a couple wasn’t going to go over well at all.
“Honestly, how hard is it for you two to stop squabbling.” They didn’t have the time to mess up, there was only the one chance. They’d landed in Spain, with the party the next night. “It’s unprofessional.” They both had the decency to remain quiet after being reprimanded.
“This isn’t going to work,” Bond said. They were scoping out the premises.
“What do you mean?” Q asked, watching through the lens Bond used. He didn’t understand at first, but then he got it: it wouldn’t work. “Shit,” Q said.
“You see what I see?” Bond asked.
Q swiveled around in his chair, typing a quick email to Tanner before looking up flights.
“I do, 007, let me work.”
Silence fell across the comms. The initial idea that Bond and 009 were to be the couple wouldn’t work. There was a pre-party of sorts at the villa, a small casual dinner affair where only a few guests were invited. Obviously they hadn’t been on the list, since the following day’s party would be the more general one. But there was one distinction in each of the guests that stood out immediately. Q wanted to kick himself that no one had thought to look past the fact that the list of guests contained members of the same sex.
There was an obvious age difference in each of the couples. Q had seen it in his brief glance at the dinner table. 009 and 007 were around the same age, and looked it. It wouldn’t work, their cover would be completely blown.
“Q--”
“Not now,” Q said as calm as possible. “Working.”
“We can make this work.” Q snorted, unable to stop himself from scoffing as he bought himself a plane ticket. “We can figure out another way.” Tanner walked in as Q muted his earpiece.
“Tanner,” Q said, standing up. “I’ve just bought myself a ticket.”
“Are you sure?” Tanner asked, looking at the screen.
Q unmuted his earpiece. “007, show Tanner what you showed me.” The guests came into view, and Tanner remained quiet as he nodded his head, looking at Q.
“You’re sure?” Tanner asked.
“Sure of what?” Bond interjected. “Q, you’re not--”
“007,” Q said, silencing Bond with his cutting tone.
“Unless you send in one of my assistants, you aren’t going to find an agent who would fit the bill.”
“Sending you in is a risk,” Tanner said. “There has to be another way. You aren’t some assistant, Q-”
“But I am the most capable,” Q pointed out. His hands were shaking, thinking about going undercover. This wasn’t like before, this wasn’t simply handing Bond information.
“Absolutely not,” Bond said. Q took out his earpiece, holding it in his hand as he stepped closer to Tanner.
“It will be alright,” Q said. “Bond won’t let anything happen to me,” he heard himself saying. “I’ve already bought the ticket.”
“We need to inform M.”
“It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission,” Q said, his lips pursed. “I’m on the next flight out.”
-
Q arrived in the middle of the night. He’d barely had time to pack, let alone feed his cats and give Moneypenny access to his flat so they wouldn’t starve. He rarely left town, and they tended to start clawing at the furniture when left alone for too long.
After not sleeping for close to twenty-four hours, Q collapsed onto his hotel bed. It connected to Bond’s, but he hadn’t unlocked his side of the door as yet. A knock at the door had Q sitting up in bed, dazed. He’d forgotten where he was for a moment.
“Coming,” Q said as he made his way over to the connecting door, opening it to find Bond standing there in something other than a suit. Q blinked multiple times, in awe, before stepping aside so Bond could enter. He was in a pair of soft looking, faded jeans and a Henley, which also looked soft.
“I’ve a mind to scold you,” Bond said as Q shut the door behind him. “You’re not a field agent.”
“And you’re not my boss, last I checked,” Q quipped as he started to take off his jacket; he was still wearing it despite his impromptu nap. A glance at the clock showed that he hadn’t been asleep all that long, maybe thirty minutes or so. He could barely keep his eyes open. “Really, Bond, as the situation presented itself, I’m the best bet we have.”
“009 and I could have figured it out,” Bond said. “Just because you meet some sort of physical criteria doesn’t mean--”
“It means exactly that,” Q persisted, stepping closer to Bond. “The room was made up entirely of older men and their kept boys, Bond,” Q said with the tilt of his head. “And I look like a kept boy, you’ve said so yourself on multiple occasions.”
Bond sighed, closing his eyes in frustration.
Q bit his lip. “If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’ve been in these clothes since yesterday morning, and I’d like to shower.”
“Of course,” Bond said.
“We’ll talk after, we need to debrief and go through the plan.”
“The plan?” Bond asked as Q started to take off his shoes and socks.
“Yes, well,” Q said as he pulled at his jumper, stripping down to his undershirt. “I had time on the plane to go through everything, didn’t I?”
With that, he went to shower.
Knowing that Bond was there, in his rooms, waiting for him gave way to an interesting shower. Q was of a healthy mind and body, his usual time alone consisted of a stroke in the shower to relieve tension, but with Bond in the other room it wasn’t the time or place. Of course, his body didn’t care. It was a sort of pavlovian response, in a way, when he stepped under the spray. He ignored it; there wasn’t time. The faster they talked, the faster Q could grab a few hours of sleep, which he needed.
With a towel wrapped around his waist, he emerged from the steam filled bathroom with his glasses in his hands. He could barely see as he made his way over to his small suitcase, rummaging through it for clean pants and his pyjamas, his hair dripping wet still.
He thought about going back into the bathroom, but thought it a bit juvenile. They were both adults, and clearly Bond has seen his fair share of arses. Q dressed in front of Bond, turned away from him for a little bit of dignity. Not wearing his specs helped in a way, gave him a false sense of security. He put his specs on last, after his jumper. When he turned around, Bond wasn’t even looking at him, but at his phone. It was for the best, really, for Bond to be no longer be interested in him.
As he approached, though, Q noticed that the tips of Bond’s ears were pink. If he didn’t know Bond, and he liked to think that he did, he’d say that Bond had been embarrassed, or turned on. But Bond didn’t get embarrassed, he didn’t blush. If anything, Bond was the most stoic person Q knew, his face a stone wall when he wanted it to be. Sure, he joked and smirked when he was amused, but he could drop those things within a blink of an eye. Bond allowed Q to see those things; he shared them with him, much like Q did the same with Bond. He didn’t tease other double-ohs, he didn’t tell them horrible jokes that amused him. In fact, Q knew he was quite cold to the others, putting distance between himself and them. Their relationship was professional, whereas his and Bond’s, well.
“Let me grab my tablet,” Q stated unnecessarily. Bond followed him to his messenger bag, where he pulled out both his laptop and tablet. He looked around the room, hoping for a table with two chairs or a couch. Of course, there was none. He was in a room with two queen beds. So he sat, leaving enough room for Bond beside him.
Their thighs touched as James sat beside him, encroaching into Q’s space as he looked over Q’s shoulder. He could feel James’ breath on his neck as he logged in remotely, pulling up the notes he’d made. Q tried not to move his head because Bond was mere centimetres from him. He blinked, trying to think rationally; Bond made it difficult.
“I was able to identify a few of the guests, and my assumptions were correct,” Q said, leaning towards Bond so he could see better, even though he was quite sure Bond could see fine before. Only now, Q’s shoulder leaned against Bond’s, contact made along Q’s side and back.
“What assumptions?” Bond asked, his breath ghosting across Q’s neck. Q tried not to shiver as his fingers slid across the tablet.
“That they are kept boys,” Q said, turning his head to meet James’ gaze. He immediately regretted the action, because James’ eyes were hooded, his gaze on Q’s lips. It took all of his self control to turn away from him, then, and go back to the task at hand. “It seems like the list is of rather influential men of multiple nationalities, all in the closet of course, high ranking within their governments, but they seem to meet a few times a year with their lovers. You’d think it would be a little more hush hush, but--”
“Tanner mentioned that this wasn’t a writ,” Bond said, leaning on one hand so that his chest was against Q’s back, his hand splayed on the bed at Q’s other side. Q closed his eyes as Bond’s nose trailed across the back of his neck. “That they were to be brought back alive.”
“Yes,” Q said with a shuddering breath. “For questioning. It’s-- there’s evidence of sex slavery,” Q swallowed. “And I pushed for them to be brought in, because as a gay man, I’d hate the world to paint such a vile picture--” Q swallowed, his hands shaking because he’d said it, finally. He told Bond, as if he hadn’t known before right then. “I thought that if, somehow, I could prove that it wasn’t this group, that they were innocent-- that it wouldn’t come out that-- that--”
“Q, it’s alright,” Bond said, laying a hand on Q’s shoulder. “You don’t need to explain to me. I understand completely. Sometimes, most of the times, people do horrible things, not because of their sexuality or race, but sometimes that’s all that people see, in the end. I’ll get to the bottom of this, I can promise you that.”
Q looked at Bond, searching his eyes.
“If it’s true, if these people are connected to sex trade, I want them to burn,” Q whispered. “I want them taken down.”
“I can promise you that, too,” Bond said, lips brushing against Q’s shoulder, but nothing more. “Now, tell me your plan before you collapse onto the bed from sheer exhaustion.”
“I’m fine,” Q said, his eyes closing for a little too long for his words to hold any meaning. It was a fight to keep them open. “The plan is, of course, that I’m going to be yours, that you’re--”
“James Bond, international spy who is in the closet--”
“No,” Q said, his eyes narrow. “Bond, this is undercover.”
“Do you think these people won’t know who I am?”
“These people, Bond, don’t run in the same circles--”
“Q, you’re a genius, surely you realise that these people are going to be just as connected as any other syndicate.”
“If that’s true, then this entire thing is futile.”
“Is it?” Bond asked. “I don’t think it is. If they are meeting because their lives are a secret, what makes you think that I couldn’t be searching for the same thing.”
Q pinched his nose, sighing. “Do you expect me to tell them who I am, too?”
“Of course not,” Bond said. “Last thing we need is for the world to know that a secret agent has the Quartermaster not only under his thumb, but in his bed.”
“You’re awfully presumptuous. I’m not under your thumb, 007.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Q,” Bond said, his hand on Q’s lower back, the motion was so casual that Q barely registered it. Bond was being rather tactile with him, and Q wasn’t used to the affection from anyone. It made him crave more of it.
“So,” Q said, clearing his throat. It was becoming more and more difficult to remain alert. “We’ve got to act like a couple in love, who rarely gets to be together.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem, do you?” Bond asked, lips dangerously close to Q’s. Q didn’t take the bait, turning his head away. He was being a tease, he knew it, but he wasn’t ready to give in to Bond’s whims, mission or no.
“The problem will be getting me into an office, I need access to their computer system directly. If I could do it remotely, I would, but they’ve got everything on lockdown. Whoever they have, they’re good.”
“Like Silva?” Bond asked.
Q gave him a look. “Like me.”
-
Q woke up underneath the covers. He hadn’t remembered getting into bed properly, but judging by the fact that James was there beside him, he deduced exactly how he’d gotten there.
“Bollocks,” Q said as he stretched. His head was fuzzy from lack of sleep; he needed tea and to go to the loo. Instead, he reached out towards Bond, who was shirtless currently, and shoved at him lightly. “Bond, wake up.” Bond jerked, his head turning towards Q, his eyes alert despite being woken up. “Why are you in my bed?” Q asked.
“Mine was far,” Bond said, sitting up, looking Q over. “Nothing happened.”
“I wasn’t-- I didn’t think it had,” Q said, frowning as Bond got out of bed; he only had his pants on, tight and form fitting boxer briefs. Q shut his eyes as he rubbed at them; he’d fallen asleep with his specs on. Fortunately for him, they were unable to be bent. After ruining several pairs, Q had made his own.
Somehow, in the morning light, Q found it more difficult to come to terms with how intimate they’d acted the night before. Bond had touched him, they’d leaned on each other and their had been lips, Bond’s mouth dangerously close to his own. Even though they’d kissed before, somehow the ‘almost’ affected him more than the actual act, like Bond wanted him but held himself back.
Q didn’t want to think about it. It was inconsequential next to the task at hand. They had a mission to accomplish, and Q was determined to follow it through.
“It’s a lovely day,” Bond said, standing by the window. He’d opened it, looking at the beautiful scenery around them. Q scowled. “We should get breakfast.”
“You’re impossible,” Q said as he shoved the sheets away from himself. “We’ve got work to do.”
“There’s time to eat,” Bond said. “When was the last time you ate?”
“I’ll have a croissant, better yet, a cup of tea.”
“One can’t live off of tea alone, Q.”
“I disagree completely,” Q said as he walked into the loo, slamming the door behind him. Bond was incorrigible. If anything, they should order in and go over their plan for that night. They shouldn’t go gallivanting around Barcelona, not when Bond was so high profile.
In the end, Q allowed Bond to take him out to breakfast. It was quaint, on a veranda, with an umbrella overhead and was the epitome of picturesque.
“This is a little much, don’t you think?” Q asked as he sipped sparkling water. They didn’t have tea. Well, they did, but it wasn’t his usual earl grey. He tried not to act forlorn about it.
“I find it-- adorable,” Bond said, smirking at Q. “I think it fits our story, don’t you? Me treating my kept boy to a fine breakfast.” Q almost spit his water out, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he tried not to inhale the water incorrectly.
“You are just--”
“Charming is the word you’re looking for, I’m sure."
“You’re something,” Q mumbled. “I hope you realise that we are going to be walking into a trap.”
“I don’t think so,” Bond said, folding his hands above the table, his legs spread wide underneath the tablecloth while Q sat with one leg crossed over the other, pouring the poor excuse for tea from the pot into a cup. Q took his time adding a dash of cream and sugar. After tasting it, he made a face, adding more sugar.
“They over steeped it,” he complained, but still sipped at it. “I wish they’d let me steep it myself, honestly.”
Bond watched him with rapt attention. Q ignored him, his eyes narrowing as he watched people walk by, going about their days.
“I can’t seem to get a grasp on you,” Bond said.
“In what respect?” Q asked him as he sat back in his chair.
“We flirt almost constantly, we kissed, and yet you run hot and cold.”
“Perhaps that’s because you have quite a history, and I’m attempting to run from it,” Q said, folding his hands in his lap. If they were going to talk about it, he wasn’t going to beat around the bush. Q licked his lips, looking Bond in the eye. “If this mission goes well, if we bring the sex ring down and survive, maybe-- just maybe, James.”
“I’d rather you safe in London than here with me,” Bond said.
“You need me,” Q said. “You won’t get in the door without me.”
“There are other ways, I could be a waiter, or a chauffeur, or a bodyguard. 009 and I would have found a way in. Now, not only do I have to make sure you’re brought back safely to MI6, but I have to also obtain Soler, a high-profile mogel who surely won’t come easily.”
“With proof,” Q added in. “But you forget: I’m not so fragile. I can take care of myself. If you get me to a computer, this will all be over quickly.”
“If you say so,” Bond said. “Evasion, though, doesn’t become you. I’ve never been a fan of the chase.”
“Somehow I highly doubt the truthfulness of that statement, Bond,” Q said, smirking. “I think that’s your favourite part.”
-
Q didn’t have a suit, the clothes he’d packed had been deemed unsuitable for the evening’s festivities. Q was positive that James enjoyed every second of Q being doted on as he was measured and made to try on multiple suits as James watched.
“There isn’t time for it to be tailored,” James said, looking at his watch; a replica of the one that Q had made him. Q rolled his eyes as he stood in front of a mirror. This was his fifth he’d tried on and he’d had just about enough of it. “This one looks the best on you so far. Really, Q, you’d look good in a bespoke--”
“This is not-- Bond--” Q said in protest when he saw the pricetag.
“Work expense,” Bond said as he stood up, buttoning his waistcoat, then jacket, winking at Q. Q sputtered, beginning to take off the jacket that cost as much as his flat’s monthly rent.
“This is ridiculous,” Q said as he stepped out of the trousers, standing in the private dressing room in his pants and button-up shirt. “I can’t fathom-- I don’t want to know how much you spend a year on suits.”
“No, you really don’t,” James said. “You change, I’ll be right back.” With that, James left Q alone in the dressing room to change back into his normal ensemble. When Q emerged, his new suit was zipped safely in a travel bag, along with a small bag that held their ties and cufflinks for Q.
“Don’t say I never got you anything,” James said with a smile, leaning forward. Q stilled for a moment before he realised what James wanted him to do: kiss him in public. Q smiled, though it was as faux as the paint treatment on the walls, before kissing him on the lips. Q lingered, though their mouths were closed, his hand cupping Bond’s face.
“I feel like that should be my line,” Q said, looking Bond in the eye as he stepped back.
“You always give me exactly what I need,” Bond said, making the corner of Q’s mouth quirk upwards. “Shall we?” Bond asked, extending his arm for Q to take. Q almost didn’t take it on principle alone, but the ruse wasn’t really a ruse to begin with, so he took it. If Bond weren’t 007, and if he weren’t Quartermaster, perhaps whatever there was between them could be real, but rationally Q knew better.
Bond was a notorious rake, moving from bed to bed, and Q was most definitely the opposite. He and Bond had similarities, such as not being able to trust people, but unlike Bond, Q had a hard time even trusting someone enough to be intimate with them. Bond didn’t seem to have that issue.
-
“I look ridiculous,” Q said as he knotted his tie. His hair was more kempt than he normally wore it, with product and everything. He hated it.
“I can assure you, you don’t,” James said beside him as he pulled at his sleeves from beneath his jacket. Q watched as James’ eyes raked up and down his frame. Q didn’t even have the jacket on yet and James looked as though he wanted to rip it off of him. “Let’s hope it doesn’t get ruined tonight -- it would be a shame.”
Q ran his fingers through his hair in disgust before giving up and putting his jacket on. It was lightweight, felt comfortable enough, but he definitely felt like he wasn’t in his own skin. He liked trousers with jumpers, he liked his own shoes, which were set aside for shiny black ones that didn’t look right on him.
Of course he’d worn suits before, gone to benefits when he was asked by MI6, but this was something completely different. This was Q going into the field, undercover, trying to find evidence of a sex ring. Q felt his own chest tighten as James turned Q towards him.
“It will be alright,” Bond said. “The key is to be confident.”
“Right,” Q said.
“I’m serious, Q. If you act the way you normally do when I come visit you, then you’ll do fine. Pretend you’re in your element. I need you to act like the Q who knows exactly what he’s doing, who can hack anything, who built a three million dollar car--”
“That you sank,” Q interjected.
“That I sank,” Bond said, smiling at him. “Can you do that for me?”
“You don’t want me meek, or some sort of lap boy?” Q asked.
“Of course not,” Bond stated, looking from Q’s eyes to his lips. “I want you to be yourself tonight, as much as possible.”
“Why?” Q asked.
“Because that way it will be more realistic, I won’t have to pretend, that way.”
“We are pretending, Bond,” Q pointed out.
“I wasn’t planning on pretending to have feelings for you,” Bond said, running his index and middle fingers across Q’s cheek. “Why change how I already feel when that’s already perfectly adequate. The only false-- the only thing is that it’s unrequited.”
“What makes you say that?” Q asked in a whisper.
“Because I’m sure that if you felt the way I do, then we would have done more than simply kiss by this point.”
Q kissed him, pulling Bond closer to him by his waistcoat. James’ mouth opened to his as their bodies pressed together. Q shut his eyes tight, enjoying the feel of Bond’s hands on his back, cupping his arse. Q moaned into his mouth, deepening the kiss. When they broke apart, Q’s breath shook.
“I told you,” Q said, kissing him again. “After.” Bond’s nose bumped against his, their eyes closing. “I’m not ready to give in to you just yet.”
“I’m not patient.”
“I know,” Q said, kissing him again. Bond responded by kissing a line down Q’s neck, sucking. “Bond--”
“It will help,” Bond said, keeping Q close as he mouthed at him. “I promise.”
“I highly doubt that marking me-- oh,” Q said as he ran his fingers through Bond’s close cropped hair.
“For Queen and country,” Bond said, cupping Q’s arse before straightening his tie. He looked Q over as well, smiling as Q, too, looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was in disarray, his lips red and swollen. He wiped at his mouth, then attempted to do something with his hair. He tilted his head to the side, noticing the mark that Bond had left for all to see. He certainly looked the part that he needed to play.
-
Upon arrival, they were given champagne and introduced to so many couples that Q had a hard time keeping any of them straight. Bond had his arm around Q almost every second, which Q appreciated considering, as he looked around, that it seemed to be the norm. If anything, he and Bond were the tamest in terms of the public displays of affection that were happening around the room. There was a very distinct age difference between the couples, and 007 and 009 would have stood out as sore thumbs if they had continued with their original plans.
Q and Bond both wore earpieces, with Tanner on the other end to help facilitate in any way he could. If anything, it made Q more nervous knowing that Tanner and possibly M himself were listening in. He didn’t know how Bond handled it, with Q in his ear all of the time.
“There seem to be a few computers nearby,” Tanner said over the earpiece. Q, unused to the earpieces, touched his ear. Bond scowled at him, moving Q’s hand out of the way and cupped his face as a feint.
“Don’t touch your ear,” Bond said, kissing Q on the forehead. Q glared at him, but his face dropped into an easy smile after a second, leaning into the kiss, playing it up.
“I’m going to the loo,” Q said, downing the rest of his champagne.
“Of course,” Bond said, looking around the room.
As Q walked away from him, he tried not to look conspicuous. He gave his empty champagne flute to a waiter who walked around with a tray before heading out of the dining area that they had been standing around.
“How close by?” Q asked in a hushed tone.
“Should be behind one of the doors right by you,” Tanner said into his ear.
“Let me know if you need me, Q,” Bond said before he started a conversation around him. Q tried to block Bond out, his voice a distraction as he opened two doors, then a third, in hopes for there to be a library or an office behind them. He found the loo, but quickly moved on.
Finally, Q stumbled across it. He sat down at the computer, taking out a USB he’d had in his pocket. His hands weren’t shaking, but he was sweating a little bit, his lips pursed as he waited for his program to take control of the computer.
“I’m in,” Q said, typing as fast as he could, copying as many files as possible. His leg bounced as he watched the files being transferred. “There’s quite a bit. Tanner I’m uploading them directly so you can see this. It seems as though he has--”
Q stopped talking as footsteps approached, echoing in the hallway.
“Q?” Bond asked.
“Third room on the right,” Q whispered. “I have to leave the USB. Come retrieve it.”
“Q, don’t--”
Q got up, his heart rate skyrocketing, fingers moving quickly to darken the screen. He hid in the shadows of the room before ducking into a doorway that led somewhere else just as the door he’d come into opened up. Q moved swiftly down a hallway he didn’t recognise. He couldn’t think about leaving the USB, because he’d almost been found out. By the looks of it, he’d dodged not only an actual bullet, but the host of the party, Soler, was known for making people who crossed him disappear into his sex rings, never to be found.
They had to get out, fast.
“Q, where are you?” Bond asked over the earpiece.
“I don’t know,” Q hissed.
“I’ve got the evidence here,” Tanner said. “I need you to bring Soler in, if possible. If not, get out now.”
“Q, get out of there,” Bond said. Q didn’t need to be told twice, though his sense of direction was thrown by the route he had taken. He made sure that his pacing was normal, even though all he wanted to do was run. He didn’t want to stand out in a crowd, so to speak. He made his way back to the dining area, taking an appetiser from a tray and a flute of champagne, gulping it down so it was half finished.
He found a place to sit down, but decided against it. Around him, no one seemed to notice that something was off about him, but he felt paranoid all the same that he stuck out like a sore thumb.
“I’ve got the USB,” Bond said in Q’s ear. “Head for the car.”
“On it,” Q said, finishing the champagne. He handed the empty glass over to a waiter before walking out into the hallway once more, turning towards the front door. Out of the corner of his eye Q saw that he was being followed by two men, security. He could run for it, but thought better of it. They would catch up to him either way, and he’d rather not go down a coward if he could help it.
“Bond,” Q said in a whisper. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave without me.”
“What?” Bond said, as Q was grabbed around the arms. He fought, but it was futile, because their grip was harsh.
“There’s really no need to be so damned brutish,” Q hissed. “I’m quite capable of walking.” Neither of them said a word as they led Q into the depths of the villa, past the party. Through his earpiece, he could hear Bond breathing, but nothing else. He wasn’t so sure it was comforting, knowing that Bond was running either towards or away from him.
They brought Q into a dark room that looked to be part of a library, judging by the number of books. Q was forced into a chair, but wasn’t restrained. He put his hands in his lap and waited, their hands on his shoulder, keeping him in place.
Q reminded himself that Tanner had the evidence, that even if Q were taken and sent into the ring, that he would be found. Maybe.
He hoped that James would think of something. The only thing that Q could do, if he thought they were about to drug him, would be to use his watch, which he outfitted with a bomb. He didn’t want it to come to that, of course. He valued his life.
Soler walked into the room after what felt like an hour of silence. With him he had his kept boy at his side, who looked closer to underage than over. Q squirmed. He knew he looked younger than he was, but there was something in the boy’s eyes, a certain amount of deadness that could only come from seeing too much of the world too soon.
He’d really and truly hoped that the evidence would point away from Soler, but now that the bastard was right in front of Q, he wanted him dead. The watch seemed like a viable option.
“Matthew, isn’t it?” Soler asked him. Q’s eyebrows rose at the use of his real name, the one that had been redacted on all of his MI6 paperwork... not even M knew it. “Matthew Ainsworth,” Soler said as he stepped closer, lifting Q’s chin. “You thought you could hide, but I’ve been watching you climb your way to the top of MI6.”
“Should I feel flattered?” Q asked him, his jaw clenched.
“Yes,” Soler said. “I never thought that I’d have you for myself, though.”
“Q, give me time,” Bond said into his ear. “Hold on.”
Q sat up straighter, his shoulders squared with his eyes narrowed in on Soler.
“My price is high,” Q said, as if he could be bought.
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll fetch me a pretty penny,” Soler said as he ran his thumb over Q’s bottom lip. “Your companion, the one you came here with, he’ll be dead soon, in case you thought the cavalry would come for you.”
“009 is on the way,” Tanner said low. “Keep him talking, Q.”
“How do you do it?” Q asked.
“You’ll see soon enough,” Soler said, tugging at Q’s hair. “Normally, I would have you for myself first, but I think that you’re too valuable to remain here.” Q pushed at him, struggling as he was forced to his knees, head bent down so he could see nothing but the floor. Behind him, a gun was cocked. Q’s body shook, unaware if it was Bond or one of the security guards.
“Move and you die.” Q didn’t move, didn’t flinch, as a bag was put over his head. “Go.”
Q couldn’t see a thing as he was pushed and shoved into the boot of a car, his hands tied behind his back. Once the boot was shut, he groaned.
“I’m in a bloody car,” Q panted. “Bond, do you hear me?”
“Yes, Q,” Bond said as he shot his gun. “I’m a bit busy.”
“Fuck,” Q said as he maneuvered himself, trying to kick out one of the tail lights. “Tanner: update?”
“009 is en route.”
“Let’s hope the idiots driving are reckless enough that it’s obvious who’s taken me, then,” Q grumbled. “I’d like not to be sold off to the highest bidder.”
“I won’t let that happen,” Bond said. “I’ve got eyes on you, in pursuit.”
“Don’t shoot me,” Q said as casually as he could muster, despite the fact that his chest was heaving.
“I’d never,” Bond joked. All Q could hear was the sound of engines and the bumps and turns as he was driven around at high speeds. “I’ll give you a warning, first.”
“Oh, good,” Q said with a laugh. “At least there’s that.”
“009 is in pursuit of Soler,” Tanner said. “Bond, do you still have eyes on Q?”
“Yes,” Bond said. “But I’m in a shitty rental car.”
“Next time we’ll travel more prepared,” Q said as he closed his eyes, trying to remain calm. “Just don’t lose sight of me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Even in times of crisis, Bond kept his humour. Q was usually able to, as well, while he was Bond’s handler, but that was when he was out of danger, when he wasn’t in the thick of it. All in all, Q thought he was doing a rather good job of remaining calm, considering.
“Are you still with me?” Bond asked. Q hadn’t realised some time had passed since he’d spoken.
“Yes,” Q said, his voice shakier than he’d wanted it to be.
“Do me a favour,” Bond said. “Try to take your watch off, ready it. When they pull you out of the car, leave it there. It should create a diversion.”
“And if they don’t get me out in a timely fashion?” Q asked, knowing the answer. After all, he’d designed the watch. He knew exactly what it did. Bond didn’t answer him, the silence over the comms hanging heavy between them.
“I’m going to force them to stop,” Bond said. “Hold on tight.”
“Hold on to what, James?” Q asked, shouting as the car jerked to the side; James had hit the back of it, sending it spinning. “Bloody fuck!”
The car stopped abruptly, sending Q into the back of the boot, where he hit his head.
“Q?” Bond asked.
“I’m alive,” Q said weakly. “I think.”
Gunshots rang out as the boot was opened. As Q was pulled to his feet, he dropped the watch into the boot, leaving it as he was dragged across the ground. He counted in his head, keeping track of the passage of time instead of concentrating on the fact that it wasn’t James who pulled him out of the car.
The explosion wasn’t big, but it certainly got their attention. Q kneed one of them, head butting the other before he was tackled to the ground. Unable to see, he couldn’t do much else but kick outwards. He stilled after he was kicked in the stomach, the pain unbearable.
“We should just kill you now,” one of them said.
“You can’t be worth all this trouble.”
“Oh, he is,” James said before he pulled the trigger above Q. Q flinched both times as he heard the gunshots, the bodies hitting the ground. When Bond pulled off the hood, Q blinked up at him, taking in the view. Bond’s head was bleeding, and he was out of breath as he dropped the black hood to the ground. James got to his knees, helping Q untie his wrists. As soon as they were free, Q wrapped his arms around James, who did the same, though he still held his gun in his right hand.
“Fuck,” Q said. “I don’t think I care much for field work.”
“I think you’d do better behind a desk, if only for my own sanity.”
“Soler?” Q asked as Bond helped him to his feet.
“Obtained,” Tanner said over the comms. “Glad to hear you’re alright, Q.”
“Does M know?”
“Yes, he’s here with me now.”
Well, then. Q straightened his tie, for something to do with his hands, as Bond checked Q over for injuries. Besides a sore stomach and bruised wrists, Q thought he was alright.
“Good job, gentlemen,” M said as he got on the comms. “I want you back as soon as possible for a debrief.”
“Yes, sir,” Bond said.
“Oh, and Q?”
“Sir?” Q asked as Bond stepped closer to him, putting his arm around Q’s waist.
“Next time, perhaps asking for permission would be best?”
“I couldn’t agree more, Sir.”
-
After a long bath, Q felt immeasurably better. His stomach was bruised, but he didn’t think he was bleeding internally, nothing was distended or out of the ordinary besides the fact that he’d been kicked, and it wasn’t just the one time.
James walked into the bathroom without knocking, a drink in hand, whiskey neat, to which he offered Q a sip. Q had been leaning back in the tub, but splashed forwards, reaching for it as he hid himself in a half cocked attempt at privacy. It got him a smirk as James sat on the edge of the tub, his hand going to the back of Q’s head as he sipped the whiskey. He didn’t make a face, but internally he disliked the taste.
“How are you doing?” James asked.
“Positively delightful,” Q sneered into the glass. “Can’t wait to tell psych all about it. No need to worry yourself tonight, though.”
“You were kidnapped,” Bond pointed out. “Held at gunpoint.”
“Thank you for the reminder,” Q said as he sighed, leaning in to Bond’s touch as he ran his fingers through Q’s hair. “But I’ll have you know that I’ll probably sleep soundly after this.”
“Will you, now?” Bond asked him.
“Yes,” Q said as he looked up at him. “Because after the sex we’re going to have, I plan on passing out.”
-
They kissed for a not inconsiderable amount of time, mapping each other’s mouths with their tongues. Q couldn’t stop touching James, keeping him close as James fucked him into the mattress as they lay chest to chest. With knees bent, Q raked his fingers down Bond’s back, moaning with each thrust. He tilted his head back, exposing his neck for Bond to mark as he wished.
In the morning, Q was sore all over, contentedly so. As they dressed, Q couldn’t help but notice the fact that his entire neck was bruised, James’ marks stark against his pale skin. Q found that he quite liked it, and judging by James possessively kissing him, he did as well.
Once they were back at MI6, though, Q wore a scarf until he got to medical.
All in all, Q made it through his psych evaluation until the end, when they asked a prying question in regards to 007.
“I don’t see how that’s anyone’s business,” Q said, hands in his lap. They’d asked him about his relationship with Bond, rather outright. Q knew he was being watched by M, possibly Tanner, and that he needed to watch his tone. A piece of paper was slid across the table, towards him. Q picked it up, scanning over it before his shoulders relaxed.
Bond had filled out an HR form to officially state a relationship. Q smiled to himself, setting the paper down.
“Why ask if you knew the answer?”
“Do you believe that you’ll be able to continue working side by side with him?”
“I should hope so,” Q said. “As Quartermaster, I’d dare say that I would keep my relationship with him strictly professional while at work.”
After Q was dismissed, he found Bond in his office, sitting at Q’s desk.
“A form, Bond, really?”
“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” James asked, eyebrow raised.
“Well, yes,” Q said. “But that didn’t mean I thought I’d get it. I thought that--”
“I had you under my thumb but that I wasn’t under yours?”
“Precisely,” Q said as James stood up, cupping his face with his hands. Q closed his eyes as James kissed him on the lips.
“You have me, Q. I told you, I had time to think after everything, and as long as it’s not for a mission, I’m yours.”
“That’s more than I thought I could ask for,” Q murmured against Bond’s lips. |
"What?!"
Lance and Keith's cries could most likely been heard from the milky way galaxy.
"I'm not being sent out on a mission alone with him!" Keith stood from his seat, startling the yellow, green, and black paladins almost as much as his voice raising.
"You can't do this! He'll kill me- I'm sure of it!" Lance's approach was more out of fear than anger, though it sill surged through his body almost as much Keith's did.
"It isn't a difficult mission; all you two need to do is not kill each other for a week. Believe me, you'll be back to the castle before you know it." Shiro couldn't help the wicked smile that came across his face. As bad as he knew it was, he found some joy in tormenting the boys. The only reasonable explanation for it was the brotherly love he had with the two, and if not that he was just a sadist.
He gestured for the two of them to sit back down, both complying after moving further away from each other.
"I don't mean to sound rude Shiro, but I kind of agree with them..." Hunk chimed in, leaning forward in his seat and putting his elbows on his lap.
"I'm gonna have to second that. It's probably be more efficient to send- just for instance- Hunk and I?" Pidge raised her hand for a moment, showing her involvement in the conversation. "No offence to either of you- or to your authority, Shiro- but I just don't think it's the best idea..."
"Shiro's decision is final." Princess Allura's calm voice reached their ears, and they all shifted their gazes to her. "Lance, Keith- I suggest you start getting packed up, by the calculations I've done it seems the two of you will be staying for about a week in your human time." She smiled sweetly despite the gut-wrenching news that was delivered to the red and blue paladins.
"A week?!" Lance and Keith shouted in sync, standing up again.
"A day would be bad enough- but a week?!" Lance shrieked, running his hands through his hair as his eyes dilated. Keith's expression wasn't much different, but his fists were balled tightly to his side instead of yanking on his longer hair.
"Sometimes I think you're all just sadists..." Keith growled, clenching his jaw roughly. "Fine, let's just get this over with..." Steam was almost visibly trailing from his ears while he walked in the direction of his room, desperate to be alone after all the commotion in the main room.
Keith couldn't believe this; instead of trying to defeat Zarkon, Allura and Shiro were sending him out on an intergalactic road trip with Lance. Lance of all people. He would've been fine with Pidge, or even Hunk or Coran, but Lance? He wasn't sure if he could last a week alone without punching him square in the face.
The night before the trip, Keith was restless. Even after packing in a blind rage couldn't seem shut his eyes, and his body couldn't stop tingling no matter how much he willed it to. Just the tough of spending an entire week with Lance made his entire body heat up- though, he was perplexed to if it was out of anger or something else. The main fact was that Keith was pissed.
After laying down for what felt like hours in a hot sweat Keith bolted out of his bed and changed his clothes, snatching his bayard from the small table beside his bed and huffing the entire way to the training room.
~~~
Lance couldn't wrap his head around around the situation as he packed his small bag for the trip. Him and Keith; on what astral plain were they a good team? They were at each other's throats at almost every hour of the day, and when they weren't arguing one was sending dirty glares at the other. Even the few times they did get along there was a sort of tenseness in the air- Lance couldn't quite place why it was there and where it had come from though.
Never the less he couldn't seem to get any sleep that night, kept up by his loud thoughts and kept company by his throbbing heart. It was roughly three in the morning when he couldn't take it anymore. He got up and left his room, deciding to wander around the castle until he felt even remotely tired.
The halls seemed to stretch for miles, and had Lance not lived in the castle for months before this he would likely be lost in the nearly identical corridors until the others woke up and found him. His feet dragged against the floor while he walked, his hands stuffed in his robe pockets and his eyes drooping. He suddenly became startled by a dark figure on the other side of the hall, slowly making it's way towards him.
Hunk and Shiro would never be up this late, they valued sleeping almost as much as Lance did. Pidge? No, Lance had seen her pass out in bed cold just a few hours ago- after she spent almost the entire day being spent with Coran in the engine room. So who could it be..?
The silhouette let out a small grunt of surprise when they saw Lance as and stopped their slow, sluggish pace, Lance quickly following suit.
"Lance..?" They let out a small grunt that sent chills down Lance's spine, and made him shiver. He immediately knew who it was.
"Keith..." There was no questioning tone behind Lance's voice, and when the former heard his name he tensed up a bit.
"What... What're you doing up..?" Keith's usual confident voice and demeanor seemed to had completely diminished. Sure, his voice was crackly and deep from sleep, but that did nothing to distract from the fact that the red paladin looked nervous.
"I could ask you the same thing, Kogane..." Lance muttered, standing a bit taller now that said boy was in front of him.
"Hey, I asked you first..." Keith's voice was becoming slurred while he began to walk closer, and Lance took notice in his clothing. He was wearing his training clothes, his black t-shirt and pants with a towel hanging around his shoulders. Lance only realized how tired he looked when he stepped a bit closer, his eyes drooping into small slits and staying that way.
"Couldn't sleep, what about you?" Lance had decided not to aggravate Keith any longer, they were both tired and if they continued to bicker with them both in this state it was guaranteed that they would make bad decisions.
"Same here..." Keith replied without hesitation, swaying in place while his eyes drooped completely shut. Lance's breath hitched when Keith began to lean over too much to the right, talking a few long strides to him and placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"You okay..?" Lance was hesitant to ask while he furrowed his brows, looking down a bit worriedly at Keith. He knew the answer, though he had learned to never jump to conclusions when it came to the red paladin.
"Mhm... peachy..." Keith hummed, his body leaning towards Lance's. Suddenly, without warning, his body fell limply onto Lance's and let out a long sigh, his body physically relaxing while he nearly melted into Lance. Keith's face was resting in the crook of Lance's neck, and let out a warm puff of air on his neck.
"I'm gonna take you back to bed, alright?" Lance's voice wavered while he spoke, his arms hooking around Keith's waist while he steadied the boy a bit more. Keith let out a small hum that tickled Lance's neck and laid his arms limply on his slim shoulders. "The only question is how..." Lance mumbled, hesitating before gripping at Keith's thighs and wrapping them around his waist.
The walk back to the bunkers was slow, and by the time he dropped off Keith in his bed he realized that both his robe and one of his slippers had fallen off during the walk. The blush dancing along his tanned cheeks and the tips of his ears didn't leave him while picked up his scattered belongings, put them back on, or even a few minutes later when he collapsed on his bed.
His muscles felt weak and his entire body was clammy, so he quickly ripped off the one comforting robe and kicked the slippers onto the floor. He couldn't believe that had just happened, and he still wasn't sure if it was just a dream or not. Judging by how tired Keith looked, and he fact that he was drooling onto Lance's shoulder far before they had reached his bed, Lance was quite confident that his fellow paladin wouldn't remember the whole ordeal the next morning.
After tossing and turning for what felt like hours Lance ultimately decided not to bring it up the next morning, mentioning it would make thing terribly awkward and the others would likely make fun of them for weeks. Keith would hate him more, and have an even better reason to drive his bayard through Lance's chest.
Even after all of this he had trouble falling asleep, his mind seemed to bounce off the wall even though his body stayed glued to the bed. He felt lonely, lonelier than usual. The though of his family came to his mind, his mother, father, sisters and brothers, even his cousins comforted him when he felt this way.
Tonight, though, he wanted more. He wanted more than a soft kiss on the forehead from his mother, more than the tight hug of his father, and more than the friendly and child-like aura from his siblings.
He wanted- no, needed intimacy. It had been so long in his mind, the most comforting and loving touch he got these days was a hug from hunk or the occasional pat on the back from Shiro. He wanted to feel special, he wanted to know he truly mattered to someone.
Keith... I want Keith...
He was too tired to comprehend his mind telling him this when when he finally fell asleep. And he wasn't able to realize the fact that he had pictured Keith lying next to him while he fell asleep, his legs tangled with his own and having him whisper sweet nothings into his ear. |
“Blaine, come on, just stop already,” Sebastian huffs, trying to bat Blaine’s fingers away from his tie. “It looks fine.” It’s cute—the way Sebastian pretends to be annoyed, how he tries to hide his smile while Blaine fiddles with the tie around his neck. The tie is actually mostly straight, maybe just a little off center, but Blaine wants an excuse to see Sebastian before their glee clubs preform.
“You really thing I’m going to let my boyfriend go out on stage at Sectionals with a crooked tie?” Blaine asks, fussing with the knot at Sebastian’s neck; loosening, then tightening, and back again. “In what world would I ever let that happen?” He teases. Sebastian just rolls his eyes but drops his hands, putting them into his pockets and letting Blaine finish tugging at the red and blue fabric.
“Are you finished yet?” Sebastian sighs, his eyes looking around the empty McKinley hallway. “These neon signs are making me nauseous.” He gestures towards the bright paper taped up to the walls proclaiming, “PEP RALLY THIS FRIDAY!” and “GO TITANS!”
“There,” Blaine says, tightening Sebastian’s tie for the final time. “Ready to go.”
Things aren’t perfect between them, but Blaine never expected them to be. He still gets nervous when Sebastian isn’t quick to answer a text late at night—until Blaine receives a picture on his phone of a pouting Sebastian holding his history book, a streak of yellow highlighter across his cheek. Blaine’s heart still drops when he sees a cute boy approach Sebastian at the movies while Blaine waits in line for popcorn—until he sees Sebastian ignore the boy completely before walking over to throw his arm around Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine still worries that this will be too hard for Sebastian, that he’ll change his mind and tell Blaine that being exclusive isn’t working out, that he doesn’t want the commitment—until Sebastian whispers in Blaine’s ear late one night as they’re falling asleep on the phone, “being with you is the easiest thing in the world. I don’t know what I was so scared of.”
They still have distance, and school, and glee, and preparing for college to take up the majority of their time, but they make sure to see each other at least once a week—usually Friday nights. “Keep with tradition,” Sebastian had said and Blaine hadn’t been able to argue, absolutely content to spend his weekends curled up on Sebastian’s bed and not at Scandals.
“Now,” Sebastian starts, letting his own fingers curl around Blaine’s black tie. “Try not to take it too badly when we beat you,” he says, smirking as he tugs Blaine closer, causing Blaine to stumble forward. Sebastian wraps his free arm around Blaine’s waist and Blaine lets himself be caught. “Careful. Wouldn’t want you to fall and break your talent.”
Blaine laughs, leaning into Sebastian’s chest before pulling away and stepping to the side to check his tie in the reflection of the trophy case. “The Warblers are great, but we’re going to mop the floor with you guys,” Blaine says confidently, practicing his smile in the glass.
“You’re lucky I like you, otherwise I wouldn’t tolerate that,” Sebastian says, stepping behind Blaine and checking his reflection, smoothing down a few stray hairs.
They haven’t said “love”, not yet, but Blaine thinks it—almost every day. He wants Sebastian to be the one to say it first, but it’s starting to become harder and harder to keep it inside. Sometimes Blaine has to bite his cheek or dig his fingers into his sides to keep from blurting it out, and sometimes—when he’s certain Sebastian is asleep—he mouths the words against Sebastian’s chest.
“What about a last minute switch?” Sebastian offers, wrapping his arm around Blaine’s waist and tugging him closer, until their hips bump together and Blaine’s shoulder is tucked into Sebastian’s side. “I’ll kick out one of the new kids and you can take his place. I’ll even make sure it’s a freshman so you at least have a chance of fitting into his uniform.”
Blaine digs his shoulder into Sebastian playfully, rolling his eyes, the teasing calming his nerves before they head up on stage. “Are you ever going to give that a rest?” Blaine asks, although he secretly enjoys every time Sebastian jokes about him coming back to Dalton.
“Unlikely,” he answers, and their eyes meet in the reflective glass.
“Sebastian!” Hunter’s deep voice echoes down the hallway. “We’re on in five. Let’s go!”
Sebastian sighs and pulls away, giving one last squeeze to Blaine’s hip before letting go. “Good luck. Knock ‘em dead.”
“Same to you and the guys,” Blaine says, and Sebastian doesn’t even hesitate to bend down and place a firm, quick kiss on Blaine’s lips. “I’ll see you at Breadstix after the competition, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Sebastian answers, smiling one last time before turning and jogging down the hallway to meet Hunter.
Blaine finds the rest of the New Directions in the choir room, huddled together in a circle while Mr. Schuester gives them his usual pre-performance pep talk. Blaine slides in between Sam and Tina, grabbing Tina’s hand. No one seems to notice that he was missing, besides Sam, who punches Blaine in the shoulder.
“Where were you, dude?” Sam whispers. “Joe made us each say a prayer and I panicked and said I was thankful for Bagel Bites.”
“Sorry, I had to wish Sebastian luck. The Warblers are on next,” Blaine explains. The New Directions know about Blaine and Sebastian and it’s mostly okay, only a few of the older members even remember who Jesse St. James is.
Mr. Schuester finishes up his speech, clapping his hands together in excitement. “Okay, guys. Let’s go cheer on The Warblers!”
The auditorium is already dark when they walk inside and Blaine quickly finds his seat, settling down in his chair and wiping his damp palms on his thighs. The Warblers are lined up on stage, covered in shadows as the spot line shines down on Hunter as he introduces them to the crowd. Blaine holds his breath until Sebastian steps out into the light, his lips pursed together in a whistle.
Both of the songs The Warblers preform are amazing. Blaine knows he should be worried about how his own group will fair against them, but he can’t be bothered. He only feels joy, pride, and awe as he watches Sebastian lead The Warblers into their second song.
Blaine is the first one out of his seat before Sebastian is done holding out the last note, jumping up and clapping his hands loudly until his palms start to sting. Blaine’s excited and proud and wants to turn to the people behind him and shout, “I love him!” while pointing to the stage. He settles for whooping loudly, his hands circled around his mouth to make the sound louder as it carries over to the stage. He gets a few strange looks from the other show choirs seated around him, but he doesn’t care. Sebastian’s smile is huge and Blaine’s matches, nothing but pure happiness racing through every inch of his body as he cheers for his boyfriend up on the stage. |
"Will you excuse me for just a moment, Miss Swan?" Emma nodded, wondering if she had asked the wrong question. Her eyes followed Regina as she made her way over to Ruby. Emma couldn't help but smile at their interaction, they seemed comfortable with each other and Ruby's wit seemed to match Regina's. Ruby looked at Emma, wiggled her eyebrows and gave her a little wave, a flush crept up Emma's neck. She nodded at something Regina said and gave her a quick hug before shoving her in Emma's direction.
"This may seem incredible forward, but I would rather not do this here, would you like to accompany me to my house? I promise I'm not a predator. But if I'm going to tell you my story I would prefer to do it somewhere private."
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Regina."
"Nonsense, dear. It's not that I'm uncomfortable. I just have no use for the prying ears in this town. Plus, the best bottle of wine is at my house and I could use a drink before opening up to you." The smile on Regina's face didn't quite make it to her eyes. "If you're afraid I'm going to kidnap you, Miss Swan, just say the word. I'm sure Miss Lucas would be happy to testify on your behalf in court."
A flutter in Emma's stomach made her question her own sanity.
You're not suppose to find those words flattering. Kidnapping is bad business.
"I'm not worried. I think I can outrun you, those heels you're wearing seem awfully uncomfortable to run on."
Regina snickered. "Oh, you'd be surprised Miss Swan. Let's go."
Emma waved at Ruby as they left the cafe and followed Regina to the parking lot. Emma whistled when she saw her car. "I didn't take you for a Benz girl."
"I'm hardly a girl anymore, Miss Swan. My car is just as sophisticated as I am."
I'll say
. "Sophisticated huh? Interesting."
Regina shook her head and motioned for Emma to get in the car. Their drive over to Regina's house was quiet. Emma's eyes grew wide when they pulled up to a white mansion. "THAT is YOUR house? Holy shit!"
"Language, Miss Swan."
Emma felt slightly chastised. "Shiver me timbers!"
What the fuck, Emma. Seriously? Shiver me timbers?
"I wasn't aware that I was bringing a pirate into my house." Regina sounded amused. "Yes, that is my house. Would you like to come in?"
"Wasn't that the whole point of you bringing me here?" Emma stuck her tongue out.
What am I? Seven?
She followed Regina into the house and she spun around the hall. "Holy F.." Emma's knees wobbled as she felt Regina's body slide up against hers from behind and a warm hand wrapped itself around her mouth, "What did I just say about language, Miss Swan?"
The hand dropped back down and Emma immediately missed the comfort of Regina's body against hers as she stammered, "Eh, r-right, sorry about that."
"Would you like something to drink? I'm afraid I don't have apple juice ."
Emma gasped and pouted, "Ah man, that's my favorite drink. I'll have whatever you're having then."
Regina poured them both a glass of wine and motioned to Emma to follow her to the living room. Emma was in awe of Regina's house. It was absolutely stunning. The warmth of the cafe was nothing compared to her house. It felt like a safe heaven. Regina settled herself on the black leather couch and patted it. "Make yourself at home, Miss Swan."
"You have a beautiful house Regina." Emma said as she lowered herself onto the couch.
"Thank you." Regina leaned forward and unzipped her shoes, throwing them into a corner.
Emma chuckled, "I didn't take you for the kind of
woman
that would carelessly throw her shoes in a corner."
"I'm full of surprises, Miss Swan."
Yes you are.
"So..." Emma's voice trailed off. She didn't know why but she wasn't quite sure if she was ready to hear Regina's story. She hardly knew anything about the woman and yet there seemed to be something so incredible sad about her. As if she was guarding herself from the world. Perhaps it took someone with a similar experience to see through the thick veil. She wondered if others perceived Regina as a snob. "Do you often takes strangers home with you?"
Honestly. No filter whatsoever.
Emma threw Regina a wide-mouthed smile.
Regina tilted her head slightly to the right and raised one of her eyebrows. Emma was quite jealous of that feature. She couldn't raise one eyebrow to save her life without looking like a complete fool. "Are you asking me about my sex life, Miss Swan?"
"There you go again, answering a question with a question."
"Are you going to answer it?"
"Not until you answer mine first."
Emma wondered how she ended up on Regina's couch, bickering back and forth like an old married couple.
"I can honestly say you're the first 'stranger' I've taken home with me."
"I wasn't inquiring about your sex life, but that's good to know. I told you, I have no filter. I speak my mind. It's a curse really."
Regina hummed before taking a sip of her wine. "I think there's a lot in that brain of yours that you're not sharing with the world. You may speak your mind when it's convenient, I doubt it happens all the time and it's most definitely not a curse." She leaned in closer towards Emma who gulped. A hand softly trailed down her arm until it reached the empty wine glass in Emma's hand. "Let me get you a refill, Miss Swan." Emma's eyes followed Regina until she disappeared into the kitchen.
Fuck. Fuck. Shit.
Goosebumps covered her skin and she shivered. "Regina, where's your bathroom?"
"Down to the hall, second door on your left."
She walked back to the hall and opened the bathroom door.
What the hell.
The bathroom was huge. Well. Huge in Emma's concept of the word huge that is. She shook her head as she closed the door behind her, walked up to the mirror and stared at her reflection.
Right. What is wrong with you? She invited you over to her house to tell her your story. So why the fuck did you just soak your panties when she touched you? Get over yourself. And stop swearing for fuck's sake.
She was about to walk back out before she remembered to flush the toilet. She had no idea if Regina could hear it, but she wouldn't take any chances.
Might as well wash your hands too, you horn dog.
The cold water felt good on her hands and she let it flow over her wrists for a while until she felt calm enough to go back outside. She glanced in the mirror once more and shot herself a look.
Behave.
"I think my bathroom might fit twice in yours." Regina laughed and handed Emma her wine glass as she sat back down on the couch.
"I'm married." Boom. There it was. Emma didn't know what to say, how does one breath again? "Are you ready for my story, Miss Swan?"
No.
Emma just nodded.
"I've known Daniel my entire life. We grew up together. Our parents were close friends. It was expected of us that we would date each other. In our environment there was no room for rebellion. We did what our parents expected us to do. At 16 we went on our first date. At 18 we were engaged and at 20 we got married. It was never a 'love' marriage. We were close and we got along, but we both knew that we were not meant for each other. I was 22 when I discovered that I was pregnant."
Emma felt as if her eyes were going to bulge out of her sockets. "You're a mom? Wow."
"We slept together, but I always felt it was out of obligation. We had safe sex. I didn't want to raise a child with him. He was my friend, but I did not want him to be the father of my child. It would bring a whole different dimension to our relationship. Daniel was ecstatic. He thought it was the greatest thing in the world. I didn't understand how I ended up pregnant. It was all I could think about. Obviously I knew that accidents happened, but something just didn't feel right." Regina sighed. "We went to our parents to tell them the 'good' news. My mother had such a smug look on her face. To this day I'm convinced that she had something to do with it. Maybe she switched my anti-conception pills for a placebo. Heck, I wouldn't even put it past her to have bribed Daniel to poke holes in his condoms.
Emma reached out a hand and placed it over Regina's. "Oh my god, that is awful." Regina looked at her hand and noticed the slight tremble in Emma's hand before she let go of Regina's hand.
"Alexa was born on the 7th of December in 2007. She was so beautiful. I think she took after me." Regina's eyes glossed over.
Fuck. No. Oh god.
"She was a little daredevil. She loved climbing trees. Every night she demanded the same bedtime story. I can still recite Winnie the Pooh from the top of my head. Her relationship with her father was a little more complicated. I don't think Daniel knew what being a father entailed. She was a mommy's girl and I think Daniel was secretly happy with it. When Alexa was five Daniel mentioned how lovely it would be for her to have a little brother or sister. We hadn't slept together in all that time. I'm sure he got what he needed outside of this house and I honestly couldn't care less about it. I never strayed."
Regina twirled the wine glass in her hand and looked at Emma. "It took me a while to get used to the idea, but Alexa was such a sweet child, I wanted her to have a sibling. Someone to bond with, to protect." Regina scoffed. "Daniel must have had some excellent sperm because it was a hole in one. I was happy that I wouldn't have to sleep with him again though. Henry was born on the 24th of July, 2013. Alexa was immensely proud to be a big sister. She protected him with her life, wouldn't let anyone near him. She would sit by me as I fed him and she'd blow raspberries on his tummy whenever he wouldn't stop crying." Emma smiled.
"Things with Daniel and I deteriorated though. It got to the point where we could barely stand to be around each other. We talked about divorce. Our parents wouldn't have any of it. I know it must seem .. weird. We were adults, we should be able to stand up to our parents right? They wanted us to go away for the weekend. Drive the kids up to a resort and just be away from our day to day lives. They were certain we would reconnect and everything would work out just fine. That couldn't have been more further from the truth."
Emma was certain she wasn't ready for what was about to come next. Her heart felt heavy. "I think it's time for a refill, don't you Miss Swan?"
"Let me." Emma walked into the kitchen and with a shaky hand grabbed the bottle of wine from the counter. She took a deep breath before returning to Regina. She filled both of their glasses and set the bottle on the glass table. When she sat back down, she inched a little closer towards Regina.
"We had been driving for about five hours I think. We were close to the resort. Alexa was singing Henry lullabies, but he refused to go to sleep." Regina closed her eyes. She could still hear her daughter telling her with that sweet voice of hers that Henry was a stubborn baby. She smiled at the memory. "I don't remember how it happened." Silent tears dropped from her cheek. "I've tried so hard to remember Emma, but I can't. I woke up at the hospital." Emma wanted to reach out to her, take away her hurt, but she just sat there, frozen. "My parents were there. My mother cold-heartedly informed me that Daniel and Alexa were dead." Tears flowed from Emma's eyes.
"My father sent her away from the room. He's a good man. Trapped in the same marriage as I was. He told me there had been an accident. A truck crashed into us, the driver ran a red light. Daniel and Alexa had been killed instantly. Henry was in surgery, his condition was critical." Emma moved closer to Regina and cupped her cheeks with her hands, wiping away the tears with her thumbs. Regina grabbed her hand and moved Emma's thumb to her upper lip. "You asked me about my scar." Emma's thumb touched the scar softly. "It was a piece of glass from the window. It was my only injury aside from a heavy concussion."
Emma couldn't take it anymore and pulled Regina to her, wrapping her arms around Regina as she cried. They sat there in silence for what seemed an eternity before Regina removed herself from Emma's arms. "Henry pulled through."
Oh thank god.
"It took a couple of surgeries and he is a little behind on his cognitive abilities. He doesn't walk yet, but when he crawls he's all over the place. He has scars, just like his mom, but other than that he is a perfectly healthy child.
"I am so sorry about Alexa, Regina."
Regina smiled, "But not so much about Daniel?"
"No, god no, of course I am. I am so sorry you lost them both."
"Thank you. I apologize. You must think I'm heartless trying to crack a joke at Daniel's expense."
"Not at all. We all deal with grief in our own way. I've been chastised often enough by Snow for making insensitive jokes about Sophie. I think, unless you're the one going through it, it seems strange to outsiders, they don't see that it's a coping mechanism. You have nothing to apologize for Regina."
"Excuse me for a second, while I do something incredibly unladylike." Regina wiggled her eyebrows and grabbed the bottle of wine, drinking straight from it until the last drop was gone. Emma chuckled. "Oh my. You're definitely not driving me home anymore."
"You're more than welcome to sleep in the guest room."
Emma smiled at her thankfully. "Good, because I kinda slammed the door shut with the keys still inside, I'll have to get Snow to bring me the spare tomorrow."
"Snow is your sister right? Mary Margaret? How did you come up with that nickname?"
"Our parents used to call her Snow White, I think it was her favorite fairytale. Mary Margaret was way too hard to pronounce as a little child, so I sort of adopted the Snow from my parents I guess."
"I'm glad we met, Miss Swan. It's nice to have a .. friend .. who understands."
Emma smiled, "You know, you called me Emma before, you might as well stick with it now. But for what it's worth, I'm glad we met as well."
"Ah, but what would be the fun in no longer referring to you as Miss Swan? I think it riles you up for some reason. It amuses me. You're stuck with it."
Regina glanced sideways at the clock on the wall when her stomach growled loudly. "Goodness me. It's late and I haven't offered you anything to eat. Such a bad hostess. What would you think about ordering a pizza?"
"My all-time favorite food. I'm in." Emma reached into her pocket and grabbed her phone. She unlocked it and pressed '2' before handing it over to Regina.
"Really, you have the pizza place on speed dial, Miss Swan?" Regina rolled her eyes. She grabbed one of the pillows from the couch and threw it in Emma's direction before disappearing into the kitchen.
Emma grinned before laying down flat on the couch, her legs swinging over the side. She kicked off her shoes and closed her eyes, desperately trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach.
"I see you've made yourself comfortable." Emma shot up instantly. Regina sat back down, rested her feet on the table in front of her and laid a pillow on her lap, patting it. "Come on then." Emma was sure she had developed some kind of sudden heart skipping syndrome. "I won't bite. Unless you ask me kindly."
Pretty please?
Emma snorted and laid her head on the pillow. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
"Will you play twenty questions with me?" Emma mentally slapped herself.
What the fuck, you seriously are a child. Snow was right!
"I'm not talking about the guessing version of twenty questions. I really just want to ask you a bunch of questions and get straight answers from you." Emma wiggled her eyebrows and Regina slapped her shoulder lightly.
"Isn't one suppose to answer with just 'yes/no/maybe'?" Emma nodded.
"That's why I want to play with you." Emma's cheeks flushed when she realized what she had just said. "That's why I want to play the game with you. You can't answer me with a question and you're not allowed to lie. Perfect game really."
"Fine, I'll indulge you. Ask away."
Emma was in shock, "Really?"
"Ask away, Miss Swan. Time runs out when the pizza gets here."
"Did they give you an estimated time?"
"Yes."
"Well, how long?"
"That's not a yes, no, maybe question dear."
"What? No. Wait. We haven't started yet, have we?"
"Yes."
"Motherfu.." A finger landed on her lips and Regina gave her a stern look.
Holy shit that's sexy.
"No more swearing, Miss Swan." Emma nodded and whimpered at the lost of contact when Regina removed her finger.
"Do you wear glasses?"
"Yes."
Well shit.
Emma tried to imagine the combination of a stern look with glasses.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
"Do you speak any other languages aside from English?"
"Yes."
"Spanish?"
"Sí."
Stern look. Glasses. Speaking Spanish. Kill me now.
"Do you ever wear red lipstick?"
What the fuck Emma?
"My god, Miss Swan. Are we playing twenty questions or are you just creating a fantasy?"
"Tut, tut, Regina. No swearing! So ... do you?"
"Maybe."
Well, that's just not fair.
"What's your favorite color?"
"Again, not a yes, no or maybe question."
"Indulge me?"
"No."
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
"No."
"Do you believe in lust at first sight?"
Oh geeze. Very subtle Emma. Good job
.
"Maybe."
Why is there even a maybe option in this stupid game?
"Are you 30 years old?" Emma had been trying to do the math in her head. It was either a year over or under.
"No."
"Older?"
"Yes."
"Have you ever been in love?"
"Maybe."
Stupid answer to a stupid question.
"Have you ever had a same-sex experience?"
"Maybe."
What's with all these maybe answers? The whole point of this was no more evasive answers!
"Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?"
Regina snorted. "No."
"Can you sing? Like, are you any good?"
"Maybe."
Curse whoever came up with the maybe option.
"Are you any good at back-scratching?"
Yeah, 'cuz that's vital information, Emma. Good job.
"Yes."
Oh.
Well, that's a game changer.
"Really?"
"Yes. You're out of questions, Miss Swan."
Wait, what?
"Are you sure?"
"Quite sure. My turn."
Hold up. Abort mission.
"No, no. That's quite alright. Seriously, it's pizza time anyway, right? How long has it been? Hours? I'm hungry."
Ramble on, Emma. Keep talking.
Regina laughed. "Pizza won't be here for another thirty minutes. Plenty of time."
Well shit.
Regina twirled a lock of Emma's hair around her finger. "Are you comfortable, Miss Swan?"
"Yes."
Ok. That's enough of the inquisition. Whose idea was it to play this stupid game anyway?
"Do I make you nervous?"
Of course not.
"Yes."
Regina chuckled, "Good."
"Not an actual question, you lose points for random comments, Regina. It's in the rule book." Regina lightly pulled at the lock of hair, "Hush you."
Well, butter me up and call me biscuit. Wait? Is that how the saying goes?
"Do you often go home with strangers?"
"No."
But maybe I should if they all end up like this.
"Am I a stranger to you?"
"No."
I've known you for a whole day or two. We're like BFF's.
"Have you ever been intimate with a man?"
"Yuck."
Regina grinned at the sound of disgust coming from Emma's mouth. "I'll take that as a no. Have you ever been intimate with a woman?"
"Maybe."
I mean, this totally counts as intimate, right?
"Are you a quiet lover?"
Shut the front door. What kind of question is that? Where's that damn pizza?
"Maybe."
Regina laughed and poked a finger into Emma's ribs. "Do you regret wanting to play this game?"
"YES!"
"Are you ticklish?"
Emma groans before muttering a soft, "Yes."
"Do you like being called Miss Swan?"
Oh come on. We've been over this!
"No."
"Why Miss Swan, are you allowed to lie in this game?" Emma grumbled. "Let's try that again, shall we? Do you like being called Miss Swan?"
There's no need to sound so smug.
"Yes."
Fine. Whatever. You win this round. Revenge is sweet and it's all mine.
"Do you have a type?"
"Yes."
Please don't ask me a follow up question.
"Am I your type?"
Fuck.
"I'd like to buy a letter."
"Wrong game, Miss Swan."
"Can I call a friend?"
"Just answer the question."
"I have a terrible memory. Would you mind repeating the question?"
"I would mind indeed. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."
Surely it's been thirty minutes. Is the big, white mansion with the white picket fence hard to find or something? Shit.
"Maybe."
I don't know why I didn't think of that before.
"Do you have any irrational fears?"
"Yes."
"Do you like children?"
"Yes."
Auntie Emma. A thousand times yes.
"Are you silently cursing the delivery guy for taking his sweet time?"
"Yes."
Regina chortles and softly mutters, "Such an impatient girl."
"Not a question, Regina, keep up." Emma tried to give Regina a stern look but it just sent her into a fit of laughter. Emma's breath caught in her throat as Regina lifted up her chin with a finger, making it hard for her to look anywhere but into Regina's eyes.
"Miss Swan,"
she whispered seductively, "do you.." -
oh god no, don't ask me that
- "masturbate?"
Emma's face turned instantly red, a heartbeat throbbed in her throat, amongst other places. She jerked involuntarily when the doorbell rang.
"Saved by the bell huh?" Regina gently pushed Emma off her lap and handed her the pillow, Emma immediately hid her face beneath it.
How embarrassing.
She didn't notice Regina crouching down until the pillow disappeared from her face and her view was replaced by the face of a goddess. "Don't you worry Miss Swan," she wiggled her fingers in Emma's face, "we all do it." Emma could still hear Regina laugh when she left the room to open the door.
Emma couldn't help but chuckle at the differences between Regina and herself while eating their pizza. Emma sat cross legged on the couch and devoured the pizza as if she hadn't eaten in years, not to worried about the grease dropping down her chin onto her shirt, whereas Regina took small bites and used a napkin to clean her fingers and mouth after every bite.
"What's so funny, Miss Swan?"
"Nothing really." Emma's eyes sparkled with amusement.
"I'm not quite sure if I believe you."
Emma watched her reach for the napkin again. She jumped off the couch and slapped Regina's hand away, taking the napkin into her own hands and waving it around as she walked in tiny circles in front of the brunette. "Now whatcha gonna do, Regina?" She snorted when Regina's facial features changed from light panic to utter head bitch in charge. She took a step backwards when Regina got off the couch as well, taking a step forward to Emma.
"Miss Swan." Regina's posture was immaculate and Emma had trouble swallowing when Regina slowly moved forward, her hips swaying from left to right with every step. A shudder of ecstasy ran through Emma as Regina's eyes raked over Emma's body taking notice of every curve. She took a step backward. Her jaw clenched as Regina's lips curled up slightly and the tip of her tongue swiftly slid over her lower lip. They simultaneously took another step and Regina smirked when Emma took notice of the wall behind her. "I think the question is.. What will you do now, Miss Swan? It seems to me you only have two options." Emma's tried to speak but found herself unable to, her mouth flooding with moisture. "Option 1, you give me back the napkin." Emma shook her head. "Option 2 it is then."
Regina took another step forward and Emma muttered a inaudible, "shit" when she felt the wall press into her back. "What's option 2?" Regina lowered her head slightly, but remained eye contact with Emma as she raised her left hand.
Oh god.
The tip of Regina's thumb disappeared into her own mouth and Emma inhaled sharply through her nose. "That's right Miss Swan. In through your nose, out through your mouth," Regina said before moving on to her index finger. The suckling sound made Emma whimper. "You look a little flushed, Miss Swan. Something bothering you? Perhaps you should breathe, hm?" Emma's chest rapidly heaved, her heartbeat thundering below the surface.
"Regina," Emma was vaguely aware of the pleading tone in her voice "you have to stop. I-I'm gonna .. yeah, no, seriously, stop. God, I'm thirsty."
Regina chuckled, "Don't take my napkin again if you're not ready for the consequences, Miss Swan." She stepped back from Emma and made her way towards the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder at Emma, her face radiated with mischief, "Want some juice?"
|
Arya was flipping through a deck of cards when Sansa got back to the hotel suite in the late afternoon from a sightseeing excusion with Joffrey, a dreamy look on her face and shopping bags in her hands. Arya shuffled her deck and decided it was time to test herself.
“Tell me about your day San.”
Sansa looked mildly surprised, but started setting down her bags and began with enthusiasm, “Well, first we had lunch at this really adorable café and I had these delicious crepes with strawberries and cream, and…”
As Sansa continued, Arya started flipping through the deck again. One, zero, zero, minus one.
“….Then we rode the gondola at the Venetian and it was so romantic, Joffrey put his arm around me and they sang to us…”
Two, three, two, one. Done.
“Shit.” Arya muttered. She hadn’t been off on a count for weeks, but apparently a twitterpated Sansa was just what it took. To her sister, she said “Sorry, not you. Continue.” She thoroughly reshuffled the deck and started over. Zero, minus one, zero.
“… He took me to the shops at Caesar’s and I got this gorgeous Valentino bag, see?”
Minus two. Arya briefly glanced up without really seeing. She would have to be able to look around, act normal, and this was the best practice she would get. She smiled and nodded at her sister before returning to her cards. Minus three, minus two.
“… Did you know at King’s Landing they stage mock jousts every day? With knights and princesses and horses and everything?”
Zero, one, zero. Yes!
“That sounds great, San. Hey, I’m going out tonight, will you let dad know?”
Arya was up about ten grand when she decided to call it for the night. The casino was endlessly disorienting, but despite the energy and light it was almost midnight, and she was extremely lucky not have been approached by any of the casino staff so far. She supposed looking like a silly teenage girl could occasionally be beneficial. Sending a silent thank you to the eyes in the sky, and a verbal thank you and final tip to the dealer, she stood to leave. She wove her way through the laughter, drinks and bodies, and as she cashed out a young man with wavy dark hair and a hesitant but friendly smile approached her.
“Hey, um,” he hesitated and Arya crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. “We met earlier, well kind of. We were at the table together, before, for a while.”
“Yeah I remember.” She remembered that he had kept trying to talk to her when she needed to concentrate. He had been persistent despite her continued attempts to shut him down. “Gendry right?”
“Yeah!” He beamed at her.
“Hard to forget a weird-ass name like that. What do you want?”
He looked only slightly taken aback, and to his credit continued. “If you’re not busy, we’re – some of my friends and me – we’re going to a bar down the street. Would you like to join us? I mean, if you’re not here with anyone. You know, celebrate your big win?”
“Well maybe... Promise it won’t be super lame?” Arya frowned.
“Oh, it almost certainly will be.”
Arya found herself accepting though she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it sounded marginally more interesting than just going back to the room she shared with her sister. Maybe it was the high from her good night. Maybe this boy was kind of cute in a goofy, annoying sort of way.
He smiled even wider if that was possible, and led her back to where his friends were standing near the door.
“Guys, this is Arya.” She nodded to them. “Arya, this is Lommy,” a thin, genial looking boy waved, “and Mycah.” By way of greeting his mouth twitched slightly when she looked at him. “And this one goes by Hot Pie, and just trust me when I say you don’t want to know why.” The one called Hot Pie smiled at her, he was a little on the chubby side, and his face read mischief. What an absurd pack, Arya thought.
After the introductions had been made they all spilled out into the night air and the boys began talking to each other, paying little mind to Arya. It seemed Gendry had come out the best of them, besides her of course, but from what she’d seen when he was at her table that can’t have been all that impressive. Mycah had lost quite a bit of money, and Arya gathered from the others responses that this was a common theme for him.
“I just had an off night. It happens,” he was saying.
“More like an off year,” Lommy muttered as they entered the bar.
It was the kind of place Arya preferred, off the beaten path, a little dirty, and with a feeling of having been there forever. They found a table in a corner and all scrunched around. Arya offered to buy the first round, she had a fake ID but knew she wouldn’t need it at a place like this, and instantly they were all her friends. A TV over the bar flickered with the news. Something was on fire; someone had been shot. As the others discussed the merits of going to a strip club later in the week, Gendry blushed and turned to Arya.
“So you’re visiting?”
“Yeah, isn’t pretty much everyone here?” Arya asked, brushing her hair back out of her face and tucking it behind her ears.
“Not us, we’re all locals.” His blue eyes squinted, smiling at her.
“I thought locals didn’t go to the casinos.”
“Mostly you're right, hardly ever to the strip casinos anyway. But gambling’s kind of Mycah’s thing, sometimes we go with him.” He paused and stared at Arya. “I’m glad I came along tonight.”
“Why? You pick up tourist girls often?” Arya fiddled with her drink.
He reached over to touch her hand and she looked up at him. “Never. But after meeting you I figured it was worth a shot.”
“You really are stupid aren’t you?” she said quietly.
It wasn’t supposed to be answered, of course, but Arya was surprised when he just smiled in response. He smiled too much, and at her, and it made her uneasy. She was more used to people looking disapprovingly at her. While they were silent, something she heard Hot Pie say turned her attention back to the rest of the conversation.
“Definitely Sansa Stark. I mean come on, she’s got those innocent eyes but someone like her, that good girl act is definitely a façade. Isn’t that how those rich girls always get famous anyway? You know, Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian. Only a matter of time before someone leaks a – ow! God damn it Arya what is your problem?”
Her hand stung from the slap and she squirmed as Gendry pulled her back across the table. “You shouldn’t say that about people you don’t know. No one would be speculating about a man like that. It’s sexist and crude.” She straightened herself up, pulled her fitted black shirt back down over her hips, and ran her fingers through her long hair to tame it.
Lommy glared accusingly at Gendry. With a tone of trying to lighten things up he said to Arya, “We were just joking around, not like she’ll ever know or care what a bunch of losers said about her in a bar one night.”
“You think that’s the only reason girls are ever successful? Or only pretty girls? Maybe people like her for her charming personality?” Arya said it lightly, but knew it was true. Her sister grated on every nerve she had, but only because she was a sweetheart. She had lots of famous and influential friends and was well known in the fashion scene. People couldn’t help but like her, unlike Arya who just had several potential friends thrown in her lap and was about five seconds from sending them all running for the door. She had driving people away almost down to an art.
“That’s something you say about an ugly person. Like Lommy here, he has a wonderful personality,” said Hot Pie and gradually they all started laughing, Arya along with them. She’d let it go for now, and she was sure they all knew better than to bring up anything like that again.
Arya was just thinking how quiet Mycah had been the whole evening when the door swung open bringing in a draft of cool air and a gigantic figure. It was the strange scarred man from the dinner with the Baratheons and Lannisters last night, the one with the crazy eyes who had been watching Sansa and Joffrey very closely all evening. He stalked up to the bar and by the time he reached it the bartender had a shot ready, which the huge man immediately threw back. Arya was struck with the impression that it seemed like a peace offering.
“It’s the Hound,” Gendry whispered to her, almost reverently. “There’s… lots of stories about what – “ his voice trailed off as the big man approached their table. Arya didn’t think he would remember her, but she hid her face anyway and noticed Gendry did the same.
“You!” the Hound pointed at Mycah. “Outside with me, now.”
A shaking Mycah stood and followed, the others all determinedly pretending not to notice what was going on. Arya watched as Mycah took one look over his shoulder back at the others before leaving the bar. Once they were out the door, Arya looked flabbergasted at the others.
“Is someone going to tell me why we’re all just sitting here?” she demanded.
Gendry put a hand on her arm. “What can any of us do?”
“You saw him,” Hot Pie piped up, “the Hound has a reputation around here as pretty as his face.”
Arya stood and glared at them all. “All the more reason we shouldn’t just let him alone with Mycah like that. I thought you guys were supposed to be his friends, not me.”
“Arya,” Gendry sighed. “If I thought he was in any real danger I would try to help. He’s never said they’ve come after him before. If they still want him to pay, they won’t hurt him too badly. I’m sure they just sent the Hound to scare him.”
“Who’s they?”
“The Lannisters, who own the Lion. Bunch of douchebags.” He kicked the table to make his point. “Own the casino, sure, but then for those who can’t get markers they’ve got their own little side business too.”
“You sound like you speak from experience.”
“Just hearsay,” Gendry said quickly. “I mean come on, who does stuff like that?”
“Sounds like something in that’s got to be illegal.” She looked around. “I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”
She slung her bag across her body and casually walked back to where the restrooms were, hoping there would be a back door. There it was at the end of the hall, propped open with a brick already. Quiet as a cat, she snuck out into the dark alleyway.
She heard a deep voice like a growling dog say, “Lannisters pay their debts, and don’t take kindly to those who don’t.”
Arya slunk a little closer, silent and invisible. “Please!” she heard. “I’ll get the money, I just need a little more time.”
“How much time?” The Hound snapped.
“I – a month, give me a month!”
“Two weeks, I’ll come pay you another visit.”
Arya let out her breath, maybe the others were right and she shouldn’t have been so worried.
“Thank you sir, I – “ Arya heard a loud thunk and then a sob.
“Don’t fucking call me sir.”
Arya ran out of the shadows to Mycah, where he now huddled on the ground. His nose looked broken and was bleeding, and his upper lip was split, but overall the damage wasn’t bad. Not considering what a man like the Hound could surely do. She looked up at him.
“Stay out of this, girl,” the Hound rasped. “My business isn’t with you.”
“It is now,” Arya said. “Mycah, go back inside.” He looked bewildered from her to the Hound and back again. She nodded to him and he finally got up and ran back to the door, not stopping to look back. Arya stood and faced down the Hound until she heard the door and was sure Mycah was inside.
She could see the Hound’s wild eyes widen in recognition. “You’re the other Stark girl.”
“The other Stark girl? Fuck you!”
The Hound seemed somewhat flustered, and Arya was surprised at how little it took to put him on his toes. “Couldn’t let him off too easy or they’ll say I’ve gone soft. A man should pay his debts. Sometimes they needs a little encouragement.” He cracked his knuckles.
“Not like this.” Arya gritted her teeth. “What kind of assholes do you work for anyway?”
The Hound laughed. “Ask your father. Ask your sister. They seem pretty keen on them.” Arya rolled her eyes as the Hound started to walk away, muttering something that sounded like “Fucking Starks.”
Arya shrugged and started to head back to the alley door, and ran straight into something warm and solid. It was Gendry.
“Spy much?” she exclaimed, shoving his chest.
“Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were safe,” he muttered. Then as if he couldn’t help himself, “You’re a Stark? Like a hotel Stark? As in Sansa Stark is your sister?”
She glared at him. “So what.”
“Oh my god, you are. I am going to kill Hot Pie.”
“What is everyone’s deal with my sister? And no, I won’t introduce you.” Arya started walking out of the shadows towards the light of the street, and Gendry ran after her.
“I don’t care about your sister.” He grabbed her arm. “Look, I’m sorry this evening didn’t quite go how I would have liked – "
“It was pretty terrible,” Arya admitted.
“But I’d like to see you again, if that would be ok with you.”
Arya thought it through out loud. “You certainly have stupid friends,” she said. He shrugged in agreement. “And you don’t seem to be able to leave me alone or take a hint." She paused and he just looked at her. "But I guess you can walk me back to the hotel if you want.” Gendry grinned.
“And,” Arya continued, “If you manage not to annoy me too much on the walk back I might even give you my number.” |
"Tadashi -" Honey Lemon stops herself and the whole lab seems to freeze at the name. It held so much weight and hadn't been used so casually in what seemed like such a long time.
Hiro had frozen and then turned stiffly to look at her. His eyes were heavy with pain and Honey Lemon felt the 'why would you do that' like a dagger in her heart.
"Oh no, Hiro. I'm so sorry," she says, hands covering her mouth like she could stuff the words back inside.
Hiro blinks away the sadness like a loose eyelash and stands. He's not quite smiling but he tries to grin, "I-it's cool, what's up Honey?"
Honey bites her lip but pulls him over, gradually ramping up speed like GoGo on skates to point out the metal bar and the chemicals she specializes in.
The food comes in and Hiro smells it first. He feels awkward and hovers near the door but they're friends right? And he's so hungry, they wouldn't mind if he had some right?
He jolts back like he's been shocked when someone shouts his name. From the laxed manner it sounds like Fred so he waits a second so they don't realize he was standing right next to the door and then bolts in. They're all siting around reaching for food, Honey Lemon stealing bites from GoGo, and Wasabi trying to avoid the mess... and the wasabi.
Fred smiles and waves a takeout dish in his direction, "Here you go dude."
Hiro grabs it and takes a whiff of the heady chicken. He's never had this dish before, despite its familiarity. Snatching a pair of wooden chopsticks, he breaks them apart and rolls away the splinters, before popping open the white container and grabbing a piece of chicken.
He's stopped by someone grabbing his hand before he can eat it.
"Hiro."
Hiro looks up at Baymax - now always active for his 'patient'. One of his nonthreatening hands force Hiro to drop his chopsticks.
"Baymax?"
By now everyone's staring at the two, the chaos stopped.
"Hiro, you are slightly allergic to peanuts. I highly suggest not eating that. Risks that could occur include, inflammation of the throat, skin irritation, hives, eye watering and or swelling shut. I have an epipen on stand by."
A needle pops out of the hand not holding Hiro's.
"Woah, woah, woah! It's fine! I won't eat it!"
Baymax's lenses open and shut in a parody of a blink, "Okay."
The nurse bot lets go of his hand, "Please pick your foods with more awareness."
Hiro rolls his eyes.
"Ah! Sorry little man, here," Fred switches out his favored chicken lo mein for Hiro's Kung Poa chicken, "Is that good robot dude?"
Baymax scans the container, "Yes that is acceptable."
Fred chuckles, "Sorry, that was always Tadashi's favorite.
The room tenses but then relaxes as Hiro sighs and smiles sadly, "I think he used to order it," he says, "Must have stopped when I had a reaction."
He slurps up a noodle with a new pair of chopsticks. Honey Lemon pats his shoulder and slips him a potsticker after a subtle look and nod from Baymax.
"Don't worry Hiro, Wasabi is actually allergic to wasabi."
Chewing on a piece of slightly rubber chicken Hiro raises an unimpressed brow at the man. Wasabi splutters and flushes.
GoGo shifts through the movies and Hiro plops down next to her, "Romance, Sci-Fi, Sci-Fi, Sci-Fi, Comic Book, Romance, Sci-Fi, Sci-Fi and Romance, Sci-Fi, Romance..."
Hiro raises an unimpressed brow and GoGo cocks her head.
"Well?" She prompts.
Hiro pulls one out and looks at the cover, "I don't know, this one looks interesting. Don't you have any horror though?"
GoGo rolls her eyes, "Tadashi doesn't like horror."
Her eyes widen and she looks back at the movie case cursing herself internally, "B-but if you like Horror, we should totally rent one," she says desperately trying to cover her slip, "Get a good scare out of Wasabi.
Hiro smiles awkwardly, "Ya, we should."
Wasabi looks over the books stacked on Hiro's desk, fingers twitching slightly at the mess.
Hiro is writing in one - a Biology text book, the same as Wasabi's.
Taking a deep breath (and making a note to offer help with orginization later) Wasabi talks, "Hey, Hiro. I saw you fell asleep today in Biology, so I wanted to know if you needed help or anything?"
Hiro doesn't look up but he tilts his head in Wasabi's direction, "Hm? Oh uh, no I'm good."
"But there's no way that -" Wasabi stops as he looks down at what Hiro's writing.
"... That's not due for months."
Hiro dots a period on the assignment and then looks up at Wasabi, "Ya, I finished most of the assignments due so I went ahead."
Wasabi is speechless before it slips out, "Wow! Tadashi really struggled on some of the more technical stuff."
Hiro looks down and kicks his feet so he twirls in his chair.
"Ya, I guess."
Wasabi stiffens and then turns, grabbing a pile of books, "Uh, makes sense though. I heard you graduated highschool at thirteen."
Hiro mumbles, "Ya."
Tadashi had been so proud.
"Wait, what are you doing?"
Wasabi looks at him. Hiro's work area was clean and organized.
"How am I supposed to find anything?!"
Aunt Cass was chopping vegetables for dinner and something was boiling on the stove when Hiro walked into the living area of the house.
"Oh, Hiro! I did laundry! Yours is on your bed! Can you fold it and put it away?"
"Sure Aunt Cass."
Ain't Cass puts down her knife and carrot and goes to hug him, "I'm so proud of you. My little college student."
Hiro laughs and chuckles and then heads up stairs, Baymax following.
His clothes lay in a mess on his bed. He sighs and goes to his desk, intent on ignoring it as long as possible when he sees it.
A pair of underwear that's not his.
Hiro grabs it and stalks over to Tadashi's side of the room. It hasn't been touched, not since Tadashi died or Baymax was activated, or the last time Hiro had curled up next to the bed and cried, numb to the world
He gently opens a drawer and neatly folds it like everything else. Then he closes the drawer and slinks back over to his side before he starts rembering too much.
"I feel like everyone thinks of me as a replacement for Tadashi," Hiro states one day to Baymax.
Baymax tilts his head and his lenses blink. He stops his little waddle.
"You are not Tadashi," he says.
Hiro looks at him, something sarcastic and slightly hurt on the tip of his tongue.
"You have a different blood type, and you are significantly shorter and have less body mass. You are slightly allergic to peanuts. Your mood constantly swings and you are currently in the state of puberty. You taught me how to fight and protect people."
Baymax pauses, "You are... My friend."
Hiro blinks and bites his lip.
Baymax hugs him, "I am detecting a current swing in emotions. Are you in, emotional distress?"
Hiro hugs Baymax back and sniffles, "No, no. I'm fine. Thank you, Baymax."
"You are welcome, Hiro." |
Luffy watched them continuing to laugh and was so confused
“Ace, don’t laugh so hard, you’ll start bleeding again” Law said in laughter
“And miss the chance to be yelled at by you again? Not a chance!” Ace said laughing harder causing Law to laugh harder as well
Luffy wanted to laugh too but he felt like he missed something important. Once the two stopped laughing, Luffy spoke up, “Did I miss something?” Luffy decided to ask and both Law and Ace burst out in even louder and harder laughter
“Did
you
miss something! That’s priceless, little brother!”
“Yeah, leaving when I asked him if you and Smoker didn’t tell him” Law said in laughter. Once they finally calmed down from laughing
“Why didn’t you tell me you registered as Potential Soulmates!?” Ace asked with a smile and Luffy froze
“You actually told him!?” Luffy asked Law in shock
“Well you and Smoker didn’t give me much of a choice in the matter” Law said
“But I was coming back!”
“You didn’t make that clear” Law said sighing and getting up and walking to Luffy, “All you said was you were hungry and going to get food”
“And after Smoker did the same thing” Ace said shaking his head
“… Are you two friends?”
“Well we just met” Ace said and laughed, “But then again you two registered after 4 days of knowing each other, so fuck it. Yeah, we are”
“See I told you, you’d like each other!” Luffy said happily, “But how did you get to being friendly so soon after finding out we were registered?”
“He yelled at my stupid ass!” Ace said laughing, “I can tell he will keep you in line!”
“He yelled at you?” Luffy asked confused as this didn’t seem like something Law would do. Once both Ace and Law explained what happened, Luffy looked shocked, “You actually said you should have let him die?”
“I didn’t mean to say
that
, it’s not that I wanted him dead. It was just all the frustrations of the years and stupid patients and the turning point was him trying to get up bleeding when it took me 24 hours to save him. I just snapped saying shit I really didn’t mean” Law said and Ace laughed
“I deserved it though!” Ace said smiling, “Not even Smoker yells at me like that! It was refreshing!”
“… Refreshing?” Law and Luffy asked confused and Law looked at him and noticed a look on his face
“Ah, I understand, you like to be yelled at, maybe you should tell that to Smoker” Law said in a way that made Ace blush
“I-I do not! I mean I don’t know what you’re talking about” Ace said
“Really? I mean I heard Smoker’s voice before” Law said and Luffy smirked knowing what Law was doing and played along
“That deep sultry voice raised by an angry sounding Smoker” Luffy said and both of them turned to Ace when they heard the other involuntarily moan out. The two smirked and Ace’s face went bright red
“You two suck. Seriously I’m turned on now” Ace said
“Too bad you can’t do anything about that, you’re in the hospital for the next 3 months” Law said
“What three months!?”
“You had a shotgun wound to the chest, you nearly died so many times during your surgery” Law explained and even Luffy had wide eyes
“You… were shot? And with a shotgun too!? I just knew you were being sent to the hospital! What the hell happened!?” Luffy asked frantically and Ace froze
“Oh shit! I forgot! Luffy did anyone from my job come visit me when I was out?” Ace asked and Luffy shrugged
“I don’t know. I wasn’t here the whole time, Smoker was though.” Luffy said, "But tell me what happened! Don't ignore me!"
“I will later, but right now I need to know what happened myself. Do you have Smoker’s phone number on your phone?” Ace asked and Luffy nodded
“Yes, you put it into my phone and told me to call him when you were overseas”
“Luffy I need to borrow your phone” Ace said and Luffy handed him his phone and called Smoker but he didn’t pick up and Ace left a voicemail
“Goddammit Smoker, I know you know I’m the one calling on Luffy’s phone. This is not about their registering as potential soulmates. I need to know if Marco or anyone from my job visited me. It’s seriously important, now stop being a pathetic scaredy ass and get back to me. Love you~”
He hung up and gave the phone back to Luffy after groaning. The younger brother gave his older brother a look.
“... If I’m right on this, I might have to retire too” Ace said looking pained that his favorite job may be ending soon.
“Are you saying someone you were trying to capture shot you with a shotgun?” Law asked and Ace looked at him with a quizzitive stare, “I was also Zoro’s surgeon 2 years ago, and they explained to me what happened to him and that you were his partner at work”
“What a small world” Ace said and sighed, “As for who shot at me, I don’t know who it was. This will suck if I have to retire, I don’t want to dammit. If Zoro had to after his lesser injury… they are going to make me too”
“Sanji wasn’t as stressed out”
All of them turned to see Zoro at the door. “Heard what happened by a frantic Luffy, so I thought I’d come to visit, the others are busy with their jobs but will come by later”
“As much as I'm glad you came over to visit, what do you mean?” Ace asked
“About Sanji? Ace, I loved my job, I really did. It did suck to retire so young, especially from a job I loved so much. However, it saved Sanji. He’d smoke double the amount of what he does now back then. He was so stressed out… so worried that my name would disappear from his hand or that he would get a call that I was dying in the hospital…. I guess the latter did happen, but what I’m saying is, it was for the better I did retire so he didn’t need to try and send himself to an early grave.” Zoro said and Ace thought about it. Was Smoker stressed out? Maybe?
“You might be right” Ace said sighing feeling ok with retiring if it meant Smoker isn’t as stressed, if he was stressed to begin with. “He didn’t seem too stressed though. I mean I think the most stress he’s been in is now”
“Because of our registration” Luffy and Law said and as Ace nodded Zoro sighed
“Hiding that you’re stressed or worried is far easier than you think it is. I didn’t even know Sanji was stressed out for me until after I retired and he cut back on his smoking significantly” Zoro said and sighed, “When Smoker actually comes back, you should ask him”
“You’re right, I should.” Ace said
“Who do you think shot you?”
“That one guy I was tracking down outside the country. He came back here and I was about to catch him. But I don’t remember if it was him or not” Ace said
“Do you have amnesia?” Law asked concerned of possible brain trauma
“No, it was really dark in that warehouse” Ace said and sighed, “Oh well, I’ll figure it out sooner or later” he said relaxing into the bed.
“So am I missing something, or are you ok with their situation?” Zoro asked and Luffy smiled
“Traffy yelled at Ace about how he should have let him die, so now they are friends” Luffy said and Zoro gave Law and Ace a look
“It’s a long story” both Ace and Law said together and Luffy laughed
“Don’t you hate when people threaten your friends or family?” Zoro asked Luffy
“Ace deserved it” Luffy said grinning and Ace nodded
“Also got me to realize a sort of kink I may or may not have.” Ace blushed as he was half aware of the words as they were spilling out of his mouth. “I mean with Smoker, not him!”
“I don’t think Luffy would share Law even if you meant that” Zoro said nonchalantly and Law and Luffy both blushed. Law felt faint and sat down
“Are you ok, Traffy?” Luffy asked
“I just realized how hungry I am” Law said and Luffy looked at his bag of food and gave it to Law.
“Here, you should eat this”
“Really?” Law asked not really wanting to take away Luffy’s food. Luffy just nodded
“Yeah, you haven’t eaten in like 3 days, I can wait” Luffy said
“Thank you” Law said smiling deeply really happy that Luffy actually shared his food with him
This shocked Ace and Zoro as Luffy never shares his food ever with anyone, he even tried to stab Garp’s hand with a knife for trying to take his own food Luffy stole as his own. “EHHH!?”
Ace’s chest started bleeding at his sudden jerk and Law had the onigiri, half in his mouth, crumble out as he yelled at him
“YOU FUCKING IDIOT!”
TBC
|
You
You wake slowly, warm and comfortable but heavy-limbed after far too much sleep. By the light coming in Sans’s bedroom window, it looks like it’s about noon.
You’ve somehow breached the blanket barrier and the comforter is wadded up in disarranged plush hillocks on top of you both. You’re snugged up against Sans’s chest and in his sleep he’s thrown an arm around you. One of his legs is hooked over your thigh. His breath teases your hair. You sigh, closing your eyes. Oh, god, you like him so, so much.
But your bladder is full and you’ve barely been out of bed today. Even more than the need to visit the bathroom, you’re filled with the need to get up and move.
You extract yourself from the sleeping skeleton carefully, so as not to wake him. Of course, Sans is such a heavy sleeper that it’s not difficult to remove yourself, but as you pull away he mumbles some meaningless syllables and blindly reaches after you. He ends up grabbing the comforter and cuddling with that instead. You chuckle.
After a leisurely shower you head for the kitchen to put together something to eat. There’s a plate of cold pancakes on the table, along with a note from Papyrus: SIBLINGS, PLEASE ENJOY THESE HIGH-QUALITY GRIDDLE CAKES. (Y/N), THANK YOU FOR TAKING CARE OF SANS. SANS, DO NOT CAUSE (Y/N) TOO MUCH TROUBLE. I LOVE YOU BOTH AND WILL SEE YOU AFTER WORK. FRATERNALLY YOURS, THE GREAT PAPYRUS. You read the note three times, giggling harder with each read-through. The fact that he thought it necessary to sign it, and so formally, really tickles your funny bone.
Heh.
You consider for a moment the unpleasant possibility that puns are contagious, like a virus.
You check the coffeepot: it’s still full. Papyrus generally just has orange juice in the morning, but Sans needs his coffee and you need to make sure that Sans has what he needs. You put the kettle on for yourself and drop a bag of blackberry sage tea into your favorite big ugly mug. While you’re reheating the pancakes, the kettle whistles, and you start the tea steeping. As that’s going on, you dress the pancakes: extra butter and cinnamon sugar on Sans’s, raspberry jam and powdered sugar on yours. You admire your handiwork for a moment. They’re on paper plates, but they still look pretty good. You put cream and sugar in your tea, pour a mug of black coffee, pop everything onto Papyrus’s big serving tray, and head back upstairs.
Sans is still asleep when you reenter the bedroom, but his peaceful repose has twisted itself into what has to be a nightmare of epic proportions. He’s sweating profusely, breathing rapidly and scrabbling at the blankets. A whimper squeezes itself out from between his clenched teeth. You quickly set the tray down and kneel by the bed, stroking his skull gently. “Sans? It’s okay,” you whisper. “It’s okay.”
He twitches and grunts, then startles awake with a gasp. This startles you in turn, and you jerk backwards, falling off your heels and landing on your backside.
“shit!” Sans rubs his face, wiping the sheen of sweat off, trembling in the aftermath of whatever dream he was having. He lowers his hand and looks at you.
“Ow,” you complain. You think you’ve bruised your tailbone.
“shit, sorry,” Sans apologizes, looking down at the floor as if embarrassed. His voice is shaky and weak. “sorry, didn’t know you were there.” He rubs his face again and glances at the calendar on the wall through his fingers. For a second, an incongruous expression flashes across his face: you’re not sure, but it looks like relief.
“It’s okay.” You grimace, rubbing the injured area. “I can live without my butt.”
Sans snorts in amusement.
You reach behind you and bring the breakfast tray around. Sans’s face lights up, and he gives you the first real smile you’ve seen from him since yesterday. Your heart melts. You smile back and hand him his coffee. “Feeling better?”
“mmh. not completely, but a lot better, yeah.” He takes a sip and his eye sockets close in bliss. “okay, things are improving by the second.”
You chuckle and reach for the pancakes. Then you curse.
“what? what is it?”
“I forgot the silverware.” You’re angry with yourself, but not surprised. You sigh and move to get up.
“guess we’ll have to eat the old-fashioned way,” Sans says. He picks up a sticky buttery pancake with both hands and takes a bite. You flap your hands at him in dismay.
“Stop! Stop it! You’ll get all sticky!”
“appropriate for a sticky situation,” he quips, and nudges the tray towards you with his foot. “roll ‘em up. c’mon, make, like, pancake burritos.”
“Well, needs must,” you say unenthusiastically, and roll your pancakes up with the topping inside. It actually works pretty well: they’re a bit springy from being reheated and they don’t tear as easily as you’d expected. “Huh. I’m impressed.” Sans looks smug. You bite into the roll. A glob of jam squeezes out the end and plops onto the plate. “Less impressed.” Sans snickers. So do you.
You share breakfast together at lunchtime, Sans sitting on the edge of his bed and you cross-legged on the floor, eating with your hands and licking your fingers clean.
“you’ve got jam on your face,” Sans snickers.
“I’ve got jam everywhere,” you complain good-naturedly, and rub around your mouth with a napkin.
Sans laughs quietly. “you missed it.” He points to his face. “right there.” You rub further along your cheek. Sans laughs harder. “no, no, it’s over…” He gestures to his face again. You frown at him suspiciously and scrub both cheeks all over.
“Did I get it this time?” You’re glaring at him playfully.
“i think you made it worse.”
“There’s no jam on my face, is there?”
Sans pretends to look offended. “no, really, it’s right there. there!” Now he’s pointing at your face as you rub various spots with a fresh napkin.
“You’re pointing at different spots,” you observe, laughing yourself now.
“no, here, lemme show ya,” Sans says, and scoots off the bed to sit on the floor in front of you. He lifts his hand. “it’s right…” And almost quicker than your eyes can follow, he scoops a dollop of jam off your plate and dabs it onto your nose. “…there.” You squeak and swat at his hand. Sans chuckles, looking smug. You can’t keep from laughing yourself as you clean your nose off.
“So…” you start, hiding your smile behind the napkin.
“so…?” Sans prompts you. He casually yet blindingly quickly dabs some more jam onto your cheek.
“Hey!” You mock-glare at him. “Okay, that’s it!” You smack him with the paper plate. Powdered sugar poofs around him and several globs of jam stick to his skull. He coughs.
“augh! *cough cough* avast!” Sans hits you with his own plate. Buttery granules of cinnamon sugar stick in your hair. You shriek.
“Stricken by my own hospitality!” You’ve conveniently forgotten that Papyrus actually made the pancakes. “And on the eve of our peoples’ unification! When my kingdom hears of this, there shall be war!” You whap him repeatedly with your plate. Laughing, Sans grabs the pillow off the bed behind him and uses it as a shield. You let yourself fall on top of it, bearing it and Sans both to the ground. “Yield!” you shout, shoving at the pillow as Sans holds it out. He’s not expecting it, and the pillow boffs him in the face. You both crack up. “Yield!” you demand, boffing him again.
“a-ha-ha! okay, okay! i yield!” Sans lets his arms collapse, and the pillow falls to his chest. You let out an “eep!” as you fall with it. You both lay there in a tangle, catching your breaths, flushed with laughter and exertion. After a few moments, you cross your arms on the pillow and lay your chin on them, smiling at Sans. He catches your gaze, locking eyes with you, and slowly his expression shifts, the humor draining away, replaced by something you don’t recognize, something deep and desperate. You feel a stirring in your soul, and your breath catches in your throat.
Sans pushes the pillow up, levering you off him and into a sitting position. You brush at your face and hair, concealing your embarrassment, as he sits up, too. “I’m covered in buttery goodness,” you say wryly. Sans snickers.
“also, you’ve got some jam right…” You hit him with the pillow. He laughs.
“Well, now I need to shower again,” you say, getting to your feet.
“aw, no, don’t go,” Sans says, and then looks surprised at himself. “you haven’t even finished your tea,” he adds, fumbling the recovery.
“That’s true,” you concede, and sit back down, next to him this time so you can lean against the bed. You take a sip from your mug. “I really need to get the sticky off, though.”
“that’s what happens when you start a war. you get sticky.”
“Excuse me, you started that war.”
“let’s not get caught up in who made the opening sally,” Sans attempts to evade, leaning back against the bed himself and draining off his coffee. “the important thing is that wars make one sticky.”
“As do breakfasts with sugary things and no silverware. I think you’re trying to divert my attention from the fact that all of this…” You gesture to your cinnamon-sugary face and hair. “…is your fault.”
“hey, you’re the one that forgot the silverware. don’t try to pin this on me.” Sans is chuckling, enjoying the playful debate.
“I would have gone to get some. You convinced me otherwise.”
“and by allowing yourself to be convinced, you share responsibility for the decision and thereby share the blame.”
You think for a moment. “I concede the point, but not the argument.” Sans laughs. You lean against his shoulder and sip from your mug again. He goes still beside you. Then, slowly, as if coming to a decision, he leans into you. You lay your head on his shoulder. He sighs. Then you rub your sugar-covered face on his sleeve.
“h-hey!”
“Wars make one sticky, remember?” you laugh, and go to take a shower, leaving him spluttering behind you.
* * * * *
You head back to Sans’s room after cleaning up, sporting fresh clothes and toweling your hair dry. Sans is back in bed when you reenter his room. Your heart sinks. He’d really seemed like he was feeling better. You wonder for a moment if he’s asleep again, before he rolls over and looks at you with a small, sleepy smile.
“hey. squeaky-clean, i see.”
“You’re still all sticky,” you scold him, and, grabbing him by the hand, you drag him out of bed. “Now I have to change the sheets.”
Sans makes a disappointed “aww” as you pull him to his feet. You look at him for a moment, waiting, and when he just rubs one of his eye sockets and yawns, you take his hoodie by the shoulders and drag it down his arms. “h-hey!” he objects, grabbing for it, but you’ve already hauled it past his hands and dropped it to the floor. He bends over for it, but you push at his shoulders, straightening him back up.
“If you don’t go shower right now, the shirt is next,” you threaten, gripping the bottom of his t-shirt. Sans’s eyes widen in alarm and he grabs the edge of the shirt himself, holding it down.
“d-don’t undress me!” he protests, blushing so furiously he’s practically incandescent. Then he scowls and winces at the same time, a delayed response to his own childish exclamation. Honestly, you think it was cute. There was a little squeak at the end and everything.
“Go take a shower, CB,” you say, smiling a little as you push him towards the door. He grumbles on the way out, still brilliantly-flushed, still clutching the edge of his shirt as though it might fly off all on its own. You chuckle to yourself and start stripping the bed. It seems like Sans doesn’t change his sheets that often: these ones are starting to feel a little tacky. Or maybe that’s the remnants of your breakfast.
It doesn’t take long to get fresh sheets on the bed, and as you stand back and admire your handiwork, you realize that a nicely-made bed is only as pleasant as the room it’s in. With a huff of breath, you bend over and start picking dirty laundry up off the floor. Halfway through, you remember that Sans didn’t bring any clean clothes with him when he went to shower.
Left to his own devices, he might just crawl right back into his powdered-sugary clothing.
You dump your armload of laundry in a pile in the corner and snag a pair of gray sweat pants and a t-shirt that says “Free Shrugs” out of Sans’s dresser. (The dresser is nearly empty. It seems most of his clothing is on the floor. You’re starting to wonder if all the clothes you picked up were actually dirty.) You take your fresh armload down the hall, tap on the bathroom door, and tell Sans you’re leaving clean clothes for him on the hall table just outside the door. His affirmative noise is almost drowned out by the sound of the shower. Then you head back to his room to continue tidying up.
When Sans comes back, his room isn’t exactly sparkling, but the dirty laundry is gone and some of the trash has been picked up. It looks a lot better, you think, pleased with your progress.
“you… you cleaned my room?” Sans is staring at you. You can’t read the look on his face.
“Uh… just a little. Is it okay?” you ask, suddenly nervous.
Sans looks down at his feet. “sorry,” he says shortly.
You’re confused. “Huh? Sorry for what?”
“sorry for, y’know, for being… being a mess, having a dirty room, keeping you from work ’n’ all… just sorry.”
The apologies hit you like a knife to the heart. Tears start in your eyes. You blink rapidly to force them back as you rush to Sans and catch him up in a tight hug. “Don’t!” you say breathily. “Don’t apologize! Please don’t!”
Slowly, Sans’s arms come up around you, and he wraps his fingers in the back of your shirt. “i… uh… what should i…”
“Just be yourself,” you say, and without releasing him from the hug, you pull him back towards the bed, one step at a time. “It’s okay to be sad sometimes, all right? It’s okay to need rest. It’s okay to let people be there for you.” Sans’s arms tighten around you, and once again, you feel hot tears seeping through your shirt and wetting your neck. You disengage from him and pull the covers back, then gently push him into bed. He wipes a hand over his eye sockets. His tears glow lightly blue as they appear, but turn colorless quickly. He wipes at them again, looking embarrassed. You turn away for a minute to peruse the bookshelf. Sans pulls the covers over himself.
“checkers,” he says quietly. There’s something in his voice, something powerful and awe-filled and sweetly desperate.
“Hmm?” you respond, pulling The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy off the shelf and turning to look at him. He blushes, looking ashamed of himself for some reason.
“nothin’.”
“Huh. Okay.” You bring the book back to bed and pull the covers up. “Scoot over.” Sans stares at you, a little shocked, and then scoots towards the wall. You climb into bed beside him. “We’ve got a few hours before Papyrus comes home. You should get some more sleep.”
“uhh… wh-why’re you sleeping with me?” He looks less depressed and more flustered at this development.
“I don’t want you to have nightmares,” you say. “You need real rest. And I’m done sleeping, myself.” You hold up the book. “I’m going to read.”
“you don’t have to…”
“Hush,” you tell him, not unkindly, and turning onto your side, you pull his arm around you from behind so he’s spooning you. He trembles, and then tightens the hold, bringing himself close to you. You can feel his breath warm the back of your neck. “Reading in bed all day is one of life’s greatest pleasures,” you finish happily, opening Hitchhiker’s Guide. It’s an old favorite, and you’re looking forward to reading it again.
“knew there was a reason i liked you,” Sans murmurs. You chuckle as you begin to read. “Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small, unregarded yellow sun…”
* * * * *
“SIBLINGS! I AM HOME!” The shout wakes you from a comfortable doze. Hitchhiker’s Guide has fallen from your limp hand to the floor. Sans has molded himself to you in his sleep, pelvis pressed into your backside, legs tangled with yours, and the hand on the end of the arm he’s holding you with has crept under your shirt and is a little higher on your body than you’re comfortable with. You blush and scoot it downwards, concerned that being accidentally fondled is more of a threat than you’d previously expected. Sans mutters something in his sleep and squeezes your belly flab gently. You squeak, squirm, and giggle. Augh, that tickles! In response to your wriggling, Sans holds you tighter to him. Then he groans and bites you lightly on the back of the neck. You squeak again, this time in alarm. Shit, shit, time to get out of here!
You untangle yourself from the sleeping skeleton. His grasping hand gropes for you and pulls the pillow around to snuggle with. Before he draws it to his chest, you see that blue light shining under his shirt again. You blink a couple times, and blush. You’ve got a better idea now of what that means, though you’re still curious about what it is.
“SANS? (Y/N)? THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS RETURNED!”
You stick your head out Sans’s door and say, just loudly enough to carry down the stairs, “Papyrus, we’re here.” You leave the room, closing the door quietly behind you, and go to give Papyrus a hug. “Welcome home!” you say, smiling as the lanky skeleton picks you up to snuggle you. “Sans is sleeping,” you add as he sets you back down.
“STILL? THAT LAZYBONES! DOES HE EVEN REMEMBER THAT THEIR MAJESTIES ARE HOSTING A PARTY TONIGHT?”
You wince. “Papyrus, I…”
“I HOPE HE AT LEAST TOOK A SHOWER. AND WE MUST FIND HIM SOME SUITABLE ATTIRE. BY WHICH I MEAN SOME SORT OF SUIT.”
“I don’t know if he’ll be up to going to the party,” you finish sadly.
Papyrus’s smile falls. Then he picks it back up and strikes an overly dramatic pose. Somehow his ragged red scarf flutters behind him despite the lack of a breeze in the house. “IN THAT CASE, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, MUST MAKE HIM UP TO IT! HE WILL NOT GET OUT OF GOING, EVEN IF I HAVE TO DRAG HIM ALL THE WAY THERE MYSELF!” You cringe, thinking of Sans, of how tired he is and how his emotions seem to be out of his control right now.
“’s okay, paps,” Sans’s voice issues from the top of the stairs. He casually slouches his way down them, hands in his pockets. “missin’ the party would be a real drag.”
You and Papyrus both groan. “That one was worse than usual,” you complain, but you’re smiling. You’re happy to see him up and about.
Sans shrugs. “can ya blame a guy for tryin’ to be party your evening?” he asks you, grinning.
“Uh…” You’re stricken for a moment. That sounded like flirtation. You try a small, sweet smile on him. “I New Year were into me,” you reply playfully. You struggled for that one: puns don’t come easily to you. Sans, who’d been looking smug, suddenly blushes and looks a bit disoriented. His grin turns a little goofy as he stares at you.
“i love a girl who’s spunky.” Now it’s your turn to blush.
“I… I don’t really have a propunsity for them,” you admit, probably trying too hard. But Sans gives you a real laugh, and suddenly you’re convinced it was worth the effort.
“you know, at first i didn’t care for punning, but it’s groan on me.”
You snort laughter at that one.
Papyrus makes a miserable noise, like a groan and a squawk had a very sick baby. “STOP! YOU MUST NOT RUIN A FINE EVENING WITH TERRIBLE PUNS!” He tosses the trailing end of his scarf behind him in a dramatic gesture and stomps for his room. “I AM GOING TO GO MAKE MYSELF LOOK SHARP! I SUGGEST YOU DO THE SAME!” You giggle at Papyrus’s retreating back and glance at Sans. He’s chuckling, too, and exchanges a satisfied glance with you.
“Yeaaaah, I think I’m out of puns, anyway,” you say, shrugging. You get closer to Sans and murmur, “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I know how tired you are.”
“i’m good,” he reassures you. “need to get out of bed sometime, right? and sleep without nightmares really helped.” As he says it, something seems to strike him, and he blushes.
“What?” you ask curiously.
“nothin’.”
You cock an eyebrow at him.
“you don’t wanna know.” He waves you off. “don’t you have primping to do?”
“Oh, yeah, I need to get ready!” you say excitedly, and make a dash for your room. You can hear Sans chuckling behind you for a moment before Papyrus’s voice comes down the stairs.
“BROTHER! COME UP TO MY ROOM! I BELIEVE YOU WILL STILL FIT IN LAST YEAR’S APPROPRIATE OUTFIT!”
You snicker at Sans’s beleaguered sigh as you shut your door behind you and pull out the brand new dress you bought for the occasion. At the prompting of what you thought was a brilliant idea, you scoured the internet for this dress, and you’re looking forward to the boys’ reactions to it. Especially Sans’s.
You hold it up to yourself in the mirror. You happen to think it’s quite pretty, in its own way. You hope the others don’t think it’s inappropriate, or too silly. Well, you think to yourself, Only one way to find out. |
Request from endingday
Hey I was wondering if you could do a drabble for Jimin and Chanyeol? Something like where to two like each other and try to secretly date. Some of their members are supportive (Taehyung, Suga, Baekhyun, Kai, Suho, basically everyone that interacted with a member of the other group), but some of their members don’t like it and it causes tension between the groups. But of course love prevails and the two groups learn to get along and accept the relationship.
Word count: 2381
Neither of them had expected it to happen. It just sort of…did. They had just been hanging out when Chanyeol’s face had come closer, his lips pressing up against Jimin’s. Chanyeol hadn’t known what had driven him to kiss the younger singer but when the other had responded he didn’t really care. Jimin didn’t know why he gave into the kiss but he did and when they had pulled away he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. His face had been red in embarrassment at his lack of experience but that was it.
Chanyeol had been afraid of the youngers reaction, afraid that he had ruined their buddying friendship but was relieved when Jimin had only smiled shyly at him. Chanyeol has linked his hands with Jimin’s, completely dwarfing the dancer’s small hands in his larger ones, smiling fondly at the difference.
“What does this mean?” Jimin asked. He wasn’t sure what this meant. He had never thought of himself as being gay. He’s never had a problem with people being gay but up until this point he had seen himself as straight. The discovery that he might just like guys was less startling than the stories he had heard.
“I don’t know.” Chanyeol answered. “But we have time to figure it out.” He said hopefully, rubbing his thumb on the back of Jimin’s hand, heart soaring when he smiles up at him, glad that he hadn’t ruined his chance from his impulsive action.
They had decided to keep it a secret, wanting to first explore their new feelings before making anything official, to see where things went and what they wanted to do. Keeping it from their members had been hard, both being absolutely atrocious at lying but they had somehow managed it. There were times where they knew some of them had suspected something but no questions had been asked.
It wasn’t until a couple of months later that they finally decided it was time to reveal it all to their members. They had talked extensively and came to the decision that it was best to do it on their own, each of them telling their own members. It would have been an understatement to say that they were nervous. They were absolutely terrified. Neither of them could predict to reactions to their news, something which they were sure none of them were expecting.
It had gone better than they had expected. There were no outbursts of anger or disgust. There had been expressions of surprise, more on Jimin’s side as none of his members hand know that he was gay, something which was a well-known fact about Chanyeol with his own members. Everything had gone well but there were a few who had their reservations.
Jungkook had remained silent throughout the entire conversation, something which made Jimin nervous. Jungkook was one of his closet friends and his opinion mattered a lot to him. He had told Chanyeol of this, the rapper smiling sadly at him, telling him that two of his band mates, Yixing and Sehun, had had the same reaction. It worried them. They hadn’t thought that any of their members were homophobic, but maybe they had been wrong. Maybe they had read the signs wrong. Maybe they should have kept quiet.
“What should we do?” Jimin asked in a voice so small it was nearly inaudible, ear pressed up against the tallers chest.
“I don’t know.” Chanyeol answered honestly. They had thought that telling their members, their brothers, was the right thing to do but now they were questioning their decision. That night they slept restlessly, bad thoughts plaguing their dreams.
~X~
Jimin didn’t know what to do. In front of the cameras everything seemed fine, like everything was normal but behind them was another story. It would have been impossible not to miss the awkward air between the two. It seemed that Jungkook had made it his mission to avoid Jimin. Jimin would attempt to talk to the younger only to have him walk around like he hadn’t seen him in the first place. Jimin’s face would fall, tears threatening to escape. Seeing that look on his face just wasn’t right. They had all missed the young dancers smile.
They only hoped that the two would sort everything out soon.
Chanyeol was facing the same situation with Sehun, however it was a bit different with Yixing. The Chinese man was back and forth between China and Korea, Chanyeol never really having enough time to properly talk to the dancer. It was frustrating. He just wanted to know why his bothers had acted the way that they did.
There was tension in the air, something that both groups could both see and feel and it was effecting them. Something needed to be done before it got out of hand.
~X~
Jimin was confused when he and Jungkook were led to one of the companys meeting rooms by Namjoon. Were they in trouble? What did they do? Those thoughts flew through his head. When Namjoon opened the door he was shocked by to see Chanyeol, Yixing, Sehun and Junmyeon in there as well. He froze at the door and Namjoon had to push him into the room. Jungkook seemed hesitant to enter however one look from his leader had him scurrying inside.
They sat down, Jimin taking the seat next to Chanyeol, wanting to be close to his lover. There was silence for a while, no one looking each other in the eyes. It was awkward to say the least.
Junmyeon cleared his throat. “We’re going to sort this out today. I don’t need to tell you what because I’m pretty sure you’re all smart enough to figure it out on you own.” He says, eyes piercing the five in question.
“And no one is leaving until everything is sorted out.” Namjoon added, voice holding as much authority that Junmyeon’s had.
No one speaks. Namjoon and Junmyeon stand with their arms crossed, looking the every bit of a leader standing over their people. None of them knew what to say or where to start.
Chanyeol sighed and all attention was brought to him. By the looks of things no one else was going to say something so he might as well start.
“Do you really not like that me and Jimin are seeing each other?” he asks the three, looking at them sadly. Yixing opens his mouth to answer but closing it when nothing comes out. He doesn’t know what to say and that makes Chanyeol feel worse than he already does. The others remain silent.
“Is it because I like a guy?” Jimin asks instead, question directed at Jungkook more than the others. Jungkook widens his eyes.
“N-no hyung, that’s not it!” he says in a hurry, voice raised.
“Than what is it Kookie? If it’s not that why have you been avoiding my very presence since I told everyone? It hurt, Jungkook. It really hurt. Out of everyone I wouldn’t have expected you to behave like that. We’re best friends, aren’t we?” Jimin says, tears shinning in his eyes ready to fall at any moment. Jungkook himself looks like he’s close to tears as well.
“It’s just,” Jungkook starts but stops as if he’s trying to gather his thoughts. All the while Chanyeol is rubbing comforting circles on the back of his hand. “I was angry and upset. You hadn’t been spending as much time with me for a while. I thought I had done something wrong. Then you tell us that you’re dating and I…” he looks up at the ceiling. “I felt betrayed. I thought you would have told me, me of all people and it felt like I was being replaced. You starting spending all of your free time with him and…” he trailed off, voice becoming smaller and smaller as he went on until it faded.
“Kookie I, I could never replace you.” He tells the younger. His explanation may have sounded selfish and petty to most but Jimin knows of the youngers fear. His fear of losing those closest to him. After all, Jungkook was still a kid, a kid who is on the brink of adulthood but still a kid none the less. “You’re special to me, just like how Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung and Seokjin are special to me. You’re my best friend and I love you. The love I feel for Chanyeol is different from the way I love you but it’s still love and nothing could ever change that.” He tells Jungkook. “I’m sorry for making you feel that way. I never meant to do that.” He says, his sincerity showing throughout his entire being.
Jungkook wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “No hyung, you shouldn’t apologise. I’m the one who should say sorry. If I hadn’t acted like a spoiled child you wouldn’t be hurting.”
“Oh Kookie, come here.” Jimin holds his arms out and the younger immediately falls into them, head buried in the crook of his neck. Jungkook may be tall but in this position he looks so small being cradled by Jimin who strokes his hair. Jimin flicks his gaze over to Chanyeol and smiles at him. Chanyeol tries his best to do the same but at the moment he’s strung high. Now it’s Jimin’s turn to do the comforting.
“Why?” Chanyeol says simply, knowing that after Jungkook’s confession that’s all the provocation that he’s going to need to get them to talk. Surprisingly, it’s Sehun who talks first.
“I don’t know. At first I was confused. We all knew that you were gay but you’ve never really showed any interest in dating before. I guess I was surprised but then I got worried. What if someone other than us found out? But then I guess I just sort of felt jealous that you had someone other than us that was so important to you and I don’t know. I knew that it was wrong if me to feel like that and then take it out on you but I didn’t know how to talk to you about it. I’m not really that good at admitting that I’m wrong. But for what it’s worth I’m really sorry. I understand if you can’t forgive me. I know I wouldn’t.” he says, looking down at his hands guiltily, frowning with his lips pressed in a flat line.
Jimin can’t help but see the similarities between the two maknae’s. Sehun may be three years older than Jungkook but they’re both still sensitive, still children at heart.
“I forgive you Sehun. I really wish you would have come to me though. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“I know and I’m deeply sorry hyung.”
Chanyeol smiles, patting Sehun on the knee. Now it’s Yixing’s turn. Yixing is older and wiser than what he is, someone he looks up to. Jimin knew that Yixing’s reaction to the news had hurt him the most and he only hoped that Chanyeol would have his fears laid to rest.
It takes a little while for Yixing to speak and when he does his words are tinged with hesitation, slowly pronounced as if he’s unsure of what’s coming out of his mouth.
“I want you to know that I don’t have a problem with you dating a guy. We’ve always known what your preferences were and none of us have a problem with that. It’s just, I’m worried…um…” he pauses, gathering his thoughts. Chanyeol is looking at him intently, hanging off every single word. In fact, everyone is. “Dammit, you know I’m not good at explaining my feelings, especially in Korean, uh…” he sighs. “You know how people reacted when it was revealed Baekhyun was dating Taeyeon, and then Jongin and Soojung. I honestly don’t care what they fans think but you know more than anyone what it did to them all. It was something that should have been celebrated but they were all unhappy. It was hard on all of them and I don’t want that to happen to you!” Chanyeol’s eyes soften at his words. “I know you’re not fragile Chanyeol but you’re extremely sensitive. Who knows what would happen to you if it was revealed to the world. And then what happens if you two break up? How will you take it?”
“Hyung…” he swallows. “I understand your concerns hyung and I mean no disrespect about what I’m about to say but if that happens, if we’re discovered or we break up it’s something that is for me to deal with. You should have told me about this sooner.”
“I know, but there was never really a right time. I was never really here and when I was it wasn’t for long. I shouldn’t have let this sit for so long. Wǒ hěn bàoqiàn Cànliè.”* he bows his head.
“I know you are hyung.”
All if a sudden the sound of a clap resounds in the air startling all five of them. They turn their heads and see Junmyeon with his hands together.
“We’ll now that’s all sorted let us just say a few words. You know that it wouldn’t have come to this if you had been upfront about everything to begin with, don’t you?”
“I’m pretty sure we’re all well aware of it now hyung.” Sehun says.
“Now don’t get smart with me brat.” Junmyeon hisses but he can’t hide the amusement in his face.
“I think it’s about time we leave. We organised a get together for both groups. You guys can get to know each other there.” Namjoon explains, pushing off the wall and walking out of the room, Junmyeon following close behind. They five of them look at each other before getting up to follow all smiling. Their leaders had put an awful lot a faith in them making up which just proved how much they know each other.
Jimin and Chanyeol hang back, hands intertwined with each other. They’re glad that everyone had opened out and sorted out the misunderstandings that had plagued them. They know not everything is perfect, that there are still some things they need to work through but things are looking good for the first time in what seems like an eternity.
|
Iona was not sure how long she laid there. A pain in her chest made breathing exhausting. This pain moved through her body till everything ached. Tears were never a general thing with her; she cried till empty. This was worse than physical abuse; that could only break her back. This broke her spirit. Her spirit was her only pride. To her it had value. There were no memories without it. She clung to it. Her spirit was the only thing she truly owned. No man or woman could take it. Or, so she thought.
The process was gradual. When Kieren left the ship, he took her spirit with him. No one had to inform her of his departure. She felt the pull. As he drifted away, she felt it move with him. Then finally it disappeared. It was a mercy that he had not violently ripped it from her chest. There was no broken skin, just emptiness. He had no knowledge of what now clung to him. No one takes what they do not want. Her strength followed. The absence of strength left her motionless. Voice abandoned her too, an involuntary silence this time. She gave no protest.
Like Iona's depreciation, it was irrepressible. First she was less than silver pieces, second less than goats, then less than brightly colored cloth. That had not mattered. They could not own or trade her spirit. Without one she was less than a homeless dog and felt this to her core.
Days passed without notice. Soiling herself became more than a threat, which caused her to rise. Washing the bedding gave her nowhere to lie, which caused her to stand.
Someone saw to her food and brought her water, when they remembered. Even a dog was fed occasionally, she thought. It mattered not. Although keeping herself clean, she rarely stomached food. Whoever came moved quickly and avoided acknowledgment.
There were no restraints circling her ankle, no locks on her door. Without Kieren's interest or protection, Iona was left open. She was at the mercy of his men. They could do whatever they chose. Men without rules lack a heart. There have no form of natural affection within them. Just like animals that eat their own children, they have no conscience. She had seen men come close, but had stood still due to decrees designed for their kind. Decrees brought order. With no consequences there were no boundaries, no decrees.
Iona sat waiting, rocking back and forth with her hands clasped.
Maybe they would take her one by one. She was special. They would stand in line, sweating and desperate. They would lick their dry lips, eyes wild from the pressure of impatience. His men's stature was larger than most. Like Kieren they would be well endowed.
Maybe they would take her by threes, taking advantage of every aperture. At first, her skin would be a source of wonderment. They would work in unison. Together they would kiss and lick to experience her taste. Each would want to squeeze her firm breasts. One would suck one as another sucks the other. Jealous, the third one would pull from any available area. This would feel good and remove her fear. Then they would fuck her, one beneath her, one behind her and one in her mouth. She would welcome the abuse, having perversions never shared. They would congratulate each other on the extent of their attained depth. This would be a sign of manhood, a reward. They would pump in and out of her feeling the press of each other. The rhythm would take hold of her and she would move with them. She would come with them; her body would stream with a combination of thick liquids. To watch the crawl of cream against the darkness of her skin would be another great wonderment. Its taste would be on her tongue. Its lubrication would soothe her loosened opening and swollen pussy. She would be shocked by her own pleasure. Kieren's roughness and hunt for gratification would then pale in comparison.
No, the men in charge would take her first. They would have a strong need to finally taste this delicacy that once was denied. They would show tenderness. Having frequent experiences inland, a woman's touch would not be rare. This woman would request no fee, yet be most valued.
Maybe one would want to feel stronger, bigger, better, and last longer, with a desire to finally best Kieren. This one would want to bring her pleasure to have proof. This one would take his time, angering those that wait. No one would dare hurry him.
Iona would welcome him, thankful for his gentleness knowing this was a gift. But from this point forward Iona would not be herself. She would float above. She would watch, but later she would turn away. That which is not her would remain, knowing that she is only a vessel.
The one wishing to give pleasure would kiss her inviting lips, loving their soft lushness as he runs his hands down the sides of her body. She would be like fruit to him. He would suck on her neck as he works downward. He would circle her nipple with the tip of his tongue as if testing its sweetness. His lips would first kiss its tip before taking it fully. He would feed, pulling from it. Flicking it with his tongue and nibbling with his teeth would make her back arch, feeding him more. His other hand would knead the other breast as it waits for his fine treatment. He would find her special places and kiss them all appreciatively. He would fondle and explore every inch of her skin to rid the influence of myths.
The one that is Iona would watch from above in anger. Because of his ministrations, the one that is not Iona would be a traitor. The betrayal would be with her body. This betrayal readies her to accept him. With a pussy fully saturated, her legs would spread wider.
He would lie on top of her like lovers do, but only to read her expressions. He would ask her to place her arms around his neck. Wanting the others to hear her moans, he would enter slowly. She would feel every inch of him and know where he falls short. Still she would welcome him. His fucking would be deliberate. Often pausing, he would suck, bite and mark her breasts thinking it extends his longevity. It has the opposite effect.
He would ask, "Am I stronger?"
Her hands would feel the curve of his shoulders and slide to his upper arms as she lies.
"Yes, you are stronger."
He would pull himself out of her, glistening with proof of her eagerness. Sitting between her legs on his knees, holding himself, stroking his length with proof of his eagerness forming droplets at its tip, he would wonder.
He would ask her to touch it and she would feel the heat of its firmness.
Finally he would ask, "Am I bigger than him?"
She would lie again, nodding her head, and say, "You are much bigger than he is."
One push to the hilt would enter her this time, while he intently watches her face. With satisfaction he would begin to move and fuck her faster. He would work harder than before, grunting as his control weakens. He would become thankful for this feeling that she gives. He would begin to forget himself, wrap himself with nothing but her. Then to avoid the appearance of such, he would force himself to stop.
Sweating profusely and breathing heavily, he would ask, "Am I better than he is?"
She would nod her head, bite her lip and moan deeply, to avoid expressing this lie.
The thought of being stronger, bigger and better than the man he idolizes would increase his pride, give him a new sense of manliness. This would increase her sweetness. Pursuit of her pleasure would become stronger as he reaches for his own. She would be a taste far better than any tasted before. He would be hypnotized by her willingness to except the man he has become—longing for him more than she did the other. He would be sure of this fact by the look on her face and the reaction of her body. His fucking would become frantic and hard to control. He would remember that he should out-last Kieren-this proves to be his greatest obstacle.
Grunting would come from low in his chest, in union with his progress. He would begin to say "Yes." repeatedly until the name of his favorite god replaces it. Concern for what was heard would no longer be of importance. His release would cause his body to spasm. His pleasure would borderline pain. Nothing could have prepared him for what he feels.
She would have turned her face to the side, so her eyes avoid the sting of his sweat and the bizarre look on his face. The feel of him filling her would bring shame.
Iona is no longer herself; it would not be her shame.
She would then rise up on her elbows in curiosity because he had slid down her body and put his face between her thighs. He would look up and smile, a boy finding unintended sweets. This would be his perversion, the one he will not tell the others about.
He would suck his own fluids from her as if pulling from the neck of a bottle. Sounds of his tongue lapping at her pussy would remind her of a starved animal licking an abandoned dish. He would be thorough, moaning with his own satisfaction. She would find herself moaning too, not out of pretense. Her eyes would close from the feel of it. For the second time, the vessel would betray Iona. This time the betrayal would be greater. He would continue to suck and lick till she shudders. She would grab at his hair, hair not blond or as lush as Kieren's, unable to endure the feeling he gives. It would be more than she can handle.
She would feel guilt for having responded. This would not be Iona's guilt. There would be tears though, Iona's tears. Iona would cry because it is Kieren who is missing in so many ways.
Before this man leaves, sitting beside her and slipping on his leather foot coverings, he would say, "I was in you for far too long, that is why my seed filled you so."
She will not respond to that; there is no need. He would no longer need her reinforcement. He would now have what he feels to be himself. This man would rub his hand down the curve of her back and kiss her skin for the last time. He would lick it with appreciation. He would be thankful. He would know that everything that is her will be missed.
When he leaves, she would know that he was the last act of intended kindness. He was the exception.
Nothing of that sort had ever happened to Iona. She had been fucked, but never like that. She knew what was possible though. Awful things had been told to her by a supposed wise slave.
The slave had told her things in a hushed voice. Iona had looked at her in fear. However, the woman seemed to gain some type of satisfaction from the telling. Iona thought that suspicious.
"How could you possibly know and sit before me?" Iona scoffed.
"My master once had two of us," the woman continued. "He had a debt. She was the payment."
"You saw this?" Iona did not whisper her words.
"I hid in a position that allowed me to witness all."
Those words were hard to believe; anger flooded Iona.
"How could you witness such a thing and not attempt a rescue?"
"You are so young and naïve. There would be no point in two when one suffices."
Iona spit in the woman's face.
"To be born a female slave means a life of undeserved suffering and continuous tokens of insignificance," she told the woman with disgust. "To sacrifice one of your own by choice deserves more than just suffering, more than just tokens. You are less than insignificant."
At the time, Iona's rareness was highly prized by her master. Her master was greatly revered with a large house and many sons. To make him angry would have deadly results, not just from him but those born of him. The woman's master had already proven to be weak. Not only was he the type that did not pay his debts, Iona thought he could not protect his household.
Iona screamed out in pain and dropped to her knees. When her master ran to her aid, he found a frightened and terrorized Iona. With fear gripping her, Iona was forced to reveal the source. She pointed to the woman. There was nothing else required. When the woman made way to protest, the backhand of her master silenced her.
This was a serious matter. If an animal was damaged, then the one damaged must be replaced by its equal in value. Slaves were no different. Iona was checked for damage. Although no physical damage was found, her master did not like her mental disposition. Iona was lost in uncontrollable tears; she could not be calmed. So great was her distress that she could not describe the offense.
Her master demanded retribution.
Iona's master had been gentle with Iona. This did not prove to be the case with the other slave. Given permission, he punished her as he saw fit.
A devastated, but sympathetic, Iona pleaded to bring the woman water.
"It will sooth her," she told her master.
Iona's master pondered her request. He thought his beautiful, spun gold child to have a heart too tender. But if this was what she desired...
Through tears Iona brought the woman water. In pain the woman attempted to grab at it. Iona began to put it within her reach. The link between the two never completed. Iona fed the water to the ground. This was an act not seen by others.
With no tears Iona bent to let the woman hear her clearly.
"I curse you," she whispered. "Now the blood of your sister slave cries out for vengeance. As of this day, she will touch everything that enters your mouth so that the God's recognize you. They will never let you enter into the afterlife. You will be forced to stand at the base of Helgafjell. You will stand at this door forever suffering the pain you witnessed. No one will attempt to rescue you."
It was on that day, still not yet a woman, Iona discovered the power of silly speculations. She was never a slave to their Gods. If there were Gods, she would not have this life. If the people that influenced her existence thought her impious, she called on that fear for relief.
"See," she said at full height, "I am young and I am naïve. I am also one of the living. You are already dead."
From that day forward the woman refused sustenance. People whispered that she had harmed the female Blåmenn, for that offense she shriveled up and died.
Iona had felt no guilt at the time. It was a fair trade for the life of her unknown sister. To her that was honor.
With the situation she found herself in now, Iona pondered the possibility of Gods. They were now viewing her and not pleased. She had prayed on the fears of their people far too long. Reason then took hold of her. If the Gods now looked upon her, why had they not noticed the actions of others? She decided that no loyalty could be given to Gods that found justice in her state. She would take her punishment with her back straight. Even without spirit, she would keep her honor.
She waited for what was to occur. For the first time, she could not hew a path to safety. There were no choices here.
Iona braced herself each time the door opened. Each time only saw the delivery of necessities and the removal of waste. Sometimes one would come to the door and just listen, then move away. After waiting for days, Iona opened the door to step into what must befall her with no fear. The rowers did not look at her. They must be of lower status she concluded. They would have her last if she survived long enough. She soon discovered no recognition of her presence was to be found. She thought this odd.
Then as she slept it occurred to her. Iona sat up in anger. "They think me not worthy of abuse."
She was offended.
Her non-existence left her free to roam the Longship, but she limited herself. Found vile and thus shunned, Iona thought it best to not get in the way.
One day while gazing at the waters, dread left her. Iona thought of how refreshing the waters would feel. It would give her a final cleansing. It would envelope her in its arms and she would finally know how it felt to be loved, to be held with love and found still intact—no pieces of her soul stolen. She remembered no mother rocking her. Now the sea would be her mother. The sea would be her final pleasure. The song of its movements would be her music. The vastness and coldness would make her last breath painless. The beasts of the sea would not bother acknowledging her. She would go in peace. No one here would bother to notice as she climbed to her descent.
Kieren's words were truth, whispering in her ear.
"Do not be a fool," an unrecognizable voice spoke behind her. "Men will lose their lives if you give yours away."
"You are the fool," she declared without turning to face her accuser. "Something that has no worth could never be compared to the life of one man, let alone many. Your precious men are safe."
"He warned us about your tongue and its ability to draw anger," he said. "The burden you are makes your words true. Nevertheless, I am no fool. My leader has given the order that no harm should come to you. Self-harm, no matter how appropriate, would hold no dissimilarity to him. Men would still lose their lives. The process would be painful, even if he takes no joy in it. His words never contain lies. His actions are consistent."
"Go away from me," she spit out with the wind in her hair. "No man of your kind is incapable of lying. He cares not for me and you care less. I can relieve you of your burden. Believe me, with assumed consistency or not, your master will be relieved. He has said these words to me directly. Shall I believe you, in which I do not know, or shall I believe the words of someone having proved dominance over you? "
"You senseless bitch," he declared.
Iona was immediately lifted off her feet by two men she had not realized there and thrown back into Kieren's space.
The burly owner of the voice towered over her as she lay on the floor. He was older and the front of his silver hair was tethered. At the back, long and thick hair flowed. On his face he wore a full beard, from his chin hung a long braid. He could have easily been Kieren's father.
Iona recognized him in spite of the anger that twisted his face. He was Kieren's second.
"First I shall clarify what your minuscular brain may not be designed to comprehend. I have no master. I have never been enslaved by anything. By free will I release my life to a superior leader for the greatest cause. Because of you, our leader has departed. He is out there in battle without us. We are his finest, the favorited ones, his most trusted. We are his warriors. I am his friend. Nevertheless, we are stuck with you. And you..."
Shaking his head, he forced himself to gather words that would only replace the cutting of her skin and not the satisfaction of cutting her in two. It was a hard task.
"You are a demon, just as first thought," he determined.
"I have no witchery," she said, awkwardly picking herself off the floor and hoping that he would not return her there. "I am not even a woman. I have nothing within me or outside of me. Kieren has taken my spirit; this leaves me without heart. You are the ones that have me at a great disadvantage. He values his men. You are a part of him. He cares for what is his. I have been assigned anywhere that is of distance from him. I am not his. I have no care. He will never claim me. You have not allowed me to claim myself."
Exposure brought no shame. Her sayings were undeniable. This man, one she had seen often at Kieren's side, was surely aware.
"I beg to differ; one could never claim a lack of spirit within you. You leave these men in constant fear of losing their lives. All you give in return are dramatics."
"With no thought Kieren seeks out a place to deposit me. Or, he lets you leave me where you please. The latter is most likely. Knowing this, you should sanction my self-termination. If you had any mercy you would allow me that right. Why make me wait to be disposed of. My life means nothing. There is no reward in me. I am a slave without a master. I am the dog, the nuisance that wanders your ship and catches itself in your legs. Wherever I am situated, I will be at the mercy of someone's foot. "
"You are the deadliest of fools. You have no respect for your life therefore less respect for ours. You are blinded by the disrespect you show. When my leader departed, his anger was great. It surrounded him and projected itself onto us. Yet, through that anger he established your safety. For your benefit we were instructed to protect your life or lose ours."
He shook his head once more and continued.
"Even from afar he gives you his finest protection. He offers you the freedom of it. Although he reveals nothing, I suspect that you have thrown it in his face. I believe that if you tell him where you desire to be, he will take you there himself and still stand watch. We have an order to deposit you in the midst of safety. Still we must watch over you there. He leaves his best with this duty as if you are a treasure."
Iona thought the shaking of his head to be a mental twitch. He seemed to have a hard time thinking and speaking at once.
"If you are a treasure, you are very well hidden within yourself. It is hard to believe that you were ever in service to anyone. What slave behaves as you do?"
"If I am not to be given any satisfaction, I am thus finished with conversation," she threw the words back at him with her hands on her hips. "Remove yourself from this space. I grow tired of you."
"I grow tired of you. You are a painful growth on my ass."
"Then I advise you to kiss the curve of mine and take your leave."
He gave her a dry laugh which only indicated that she was far from amusing.
"He said that he did not want you restrained," this time his voice made her shudder inside. He looked to be at his last inch of control. Kieren's whisper was in her ear. "I will if it saves my life and that of others. I will add to that the gift of binding your mouth. If you think of what crossed your mind before, if it shows in your eyes, I will tie you down—feeding and bathing you myself. I have no desire to be in close proximity to you, but it will be a small sacrifice in comparison."
With that, the door was slammed shut.
As he moved swiftly away from where she dwelled, the older man passed the one closely watching over the girl.
"Do not make me have to carry your burden again. I will slice your neck for it," he roared.
That one man, a much younger man, laughed in response. Seeing to her care had become his source of entertainment.
Iona grew hopeful. Kieren had shown some proof of care. But, the knowledge that they could not hurt her under Kieren's command created a new boldness.
From that point forward, a man was placed outside of Iona's door. If she left, he left with her. If she was not properly dressed to roam the ship, he grabbed her by the arm and shoved her back into the room. If she coughed, concern crossed his face. Sometimes she pretended to have trouble clearing her throat or acted as if she was choking to irritate him. His eyes would pin her down with anger. When she pretended to slip, he would claim her arm and curse when she was again steady on her feet. This became her only form of entertainment.
What she did not know is that every night he begged one man for relief.
"What fear should I have? She makes me want to end my own life," he exclaimed.
The one man chose to ignore him as he made his request.
"If I choose to leave my post," he warned the group behind the man, "some of you will die for sure."
That one man stepped forward so that he was in the guard's face. "I will torture you slowly myself before taking your life and then freely surrender my own. Kieren would not deny me this right. Like a woman you whine. My advice to you: Be a man-hopefully before she wakes."
The guards fear was evident. Next to Kieren, this one man was most dangerous and most capable.
The other men laughed as one man took his leave.
"You laugh because I am the only man among you," the guard directed toward the group. "You dream of her at night yet pale at the thought of coming near her."
The men laughed in agreement. He felt betrayed by his brothers.
Although not knowing what he did, Iona did know when he left his post—even to relieve himself. Sometimes she would get up and open her door wide. With fear he would rush in, only to find her dramatically feigning sleep. One time she hid. The entire ship was in an uproar. They found her sitting in Kieren's space without care, her hands clasped in her lap. Kieren's second looked upon her with the desire to wring her neck. She was not in fear of the old man. He could not disobey his orders. Of that she was certain. None would. Besides, she thought, they deserved such treatment.
She wished that they would let her go over the ship's side and die.
They wished that they could push her over the ship's side and watch her die.
Iona was not aware of the one that was informed of her every move. He monitored her eating habits and the smallest of her needs. He heard her tears at night and her moans of self-gratification. Because of both, he preferred to stay as far away from her as possible. It was for her benefit as well as his.
And so it went until she found herself fully dressed in the warmest of clothing, screaming curses while struggling on a rocky beach. After being bound and gagged, she was tossed over a broad shoulder. Iona was livid and did all she could to make his load as uncomfortable as possible.
Another ride up a river on a smaller ship and a short journey found her in the midst of a village. The village was brimming with life. For no reason at all, Iona continued to fight against her humiliating position. There were some words she wished to share as soon as she could. The men only laughed. As they passed, others laughed as well. Seeing the girl's attempt to fight someone so much larger than her, in such a helpless position, was amusing.
She did notice a market with meats hanging and some wares being sold. That was strange for this time of year. They must have an abundance, she reasoned. Surrounding Longhouses tamed the whip of the winds. Livestock plowed through the streets in transport. She saw bundled women wrapped in brightly colored cloaks heading to what must be their homes. Metal hitting metal sliced through the air. There was the consistent hum of hidden chatter. Iona smelled the cooking of meals behind closed doors and also vile smells that hurt her sensitive nose.
There were many men of all types. Some were obviously Kieren's. She imagined an artisan's mold failing to produce a perfect copy of Kieren. Kieren's form was without flaw. She had realized that each time he bared himself. Her dreams allowed her to touch the warm stretch of skin covering his strength, follow the path of fine hairs downward, and celebrate the feel of him in her hands. She could kiss the scarring on his back. The dream would end but her hands and lips would still feel him.
What hung between his thighs was no dream. Iona witnessed the beauty of that flesh. Some God had given Kieren a great gift. Iona wished her dreams would include the feel of him entering her, not as he had before. She wished to feel each inch of his gift claiming her, touching within her what had never been touched before. She knew that her body would not control itself as he fucked her. It would rise up to meet him, always desiring more. She would cry out each time he withdrew and thank him each time he drove in. Her arms would hold him tight, crushing herself beneath him. Close would not be close enough. Her nails would want to mark him. She would want him to mark her. The world would stop existing as he flooded her with his seed. Enough would not be enough. Afterwards, she would wish to taste him. She would wish to taste herself on him. Only then would she be able to believe that they were once one.
She knew that opportunity was ruined. Regardless, her thoughts left her dripping, her heart beating faster. Iona grew angry with her imagination. It had much better sex than any she had experienced.
The images that crowded her mind quieted her. Because of her calmed disposition, the men stood her up and removed her bonds. They warned her not to say a word before removing her gag. When she started to speak, a look made her think better of it. When she tried to run, the wall of someone's chest made her think better of that. She rubbed her nose.
"Where are you going to go?" an amused voice asked her.
Iona looked up into a handsome face smiling down at her.
"Far away from you, you swine."
"I must stay away from that mouth of yours. It bites quickly."
This brought on a roar of laughter from them all, which angered her more. Iona was thrown over another shoulder. She was too tired to fight. The battles of the day had worn her out. Did these men not rest, she wondered.
Finally she was brought to a huge dwelling, massive and formed with some thought of design—no crudeness to it. Her other master had been an owner of land and also a large longhouse. However, his was made of turf and sod with little timber. This longhouse could have easily consumed his. This one was all timber. Even the roof had a pointed frame of timber that sod only decorated. After gawking at it, she became aware that this could be her final destination.
Suddenly she panicked. Iona did all she could to prevent passing the threshold—which was not much. Knowledge that life would change, any control she had up until this point would cease to exist, frightened her. Obedience would be enforced by the threat of her life. Humanity hung in the balance. Most men had none, most women had less. A slave with a new master could become a victim of anything. Some are treated with care as a member of the household and some are abused like useless chattel.
Nevertheless, two men easily dragged her in.
Although forced, Iona knew it was necessary to remain quiet and calm once there. The situation must be examined fully. Every detail imprinted on her mind. She looked for indications that could comfort her thoughts.
There were three rows of high posts running down what Iona thought to be the length of the longhouse. They supported the roof over the central area. Positioned randomly around the room were long tables with assigned benches. The walls supported built in benches, they also wore decorations that were clearly a salute to Kieren, bearing what she assumed to be his mark. She had seen the design many times. That meant that he was somehow a part of what was here. However, she had not seen him and many men could fill this space. That was not a good thing.
The largest hearth Iona had ever seen sat in the middle corridor. Light from the midday skies filtered through strategically placed gaps in the roof. Pathways branched off, possible living spaces or storage areas. Stepping boards in a graduated fashion led upward toward lofts, one on each side. Iona guessed that such an owner would have carved beds for his family to sleep on. The master that cared for her the most had only one; its existence was for himself and his wife. She bet the members of this family did not have to sleep on any floors, and not as one. She hoped that her head would be given a separate place, one where she was safe from the large hands of sons.
What Iona did not see was straw scattered across the pounded earth beneath her feet. No tools hung from the walls. The preparation of food filled the air, not the scent of cattle or horses being held inside against the cold.
Maybe, she thought, this place was not for living. She saw nothing present that could help them survive the remaining days of winter. They had to store their gatherings somewhere. Nothing seemed stored here.
A rather large woman, who appeared to have had dark hair at one time, came out of an opening and stood by the hearth.
"Bring her to me," she said.
The men were happy to throw her forward. Iona almost fell.
The woman roughly grabbed Iona by the chin. She inspected her. "Show your teeth," she demanded.
Iona tried to bare her teeth without sneering.
"Cough," the woman said next.
Iona coughed.
"Hold up your arms."
This was strange to Iona, but she did what was commanded. Maybe the woman wished to check the curves of her form. Iona saddened. Maybe the woman would want to breed her.
"Now flap them."
Iona thought the woman truly crazed.
"I said flap those arms," the woman demanded.
The fear of what she may be subjected to filled her mind. Iona did what she was told.
Releasing Iona's chin with the same care in which she had claimed it, the woman boomed with laughter—accompanied by a protruding middle and a larger bosom.
"I've always wanted to do that to someone," she said, still laughing as she turned to the men.
The two men laughed with her. Iona felt humiliated by them all, but she showed no signs of her feelings.
"Ah, so this is the witch that has entranced him," she teased, looking back to the girl. "Obviously she is a pure delight, is she not? Such class and grace differentiates her."
Turning to the men, she smiled. "I hear she has the mouth of a shipman as well as his lack of fear."
"We have no desire to claim the noises she makes," one surrendered.
Iona hissed at him.
"She plays games as well," the old woman said, with one eyebrow raised. "Don't be so full of shit girl. Any fear you encounter here is due to Kieren, believe that. I'll have you know that I have no fear of him and less for you. I will put my hand to your ass if you desire to act like a spoiled brat. Where do you think Kieren learned?"
Iona's mouth dropped in shock.
"I will do worse if you speak to me the way you have spoken to these men."
As she closed her mouth, Iona's face shaded red-if possible. Nevertheless, she could feel the heat of it. If this domineering, rotund, old cow knew of Kieren's abuse, what other things did she know? Certainly, this woman could not be played with. Iona feared that too many mistakes had already been made. She knew that having a negative estimation of her nature could prove more than unpleasant.
"I beg forgiveness. I acted in fear," Iona said, dropping her head in submission. "I do so much wish to please my Mistress."
This brought looks of unbelievable shock from those responsible for her delivery.
"I don't even recognize this creature," one swore. "Careful, we have found that there is usually a quiet before this dark one's storm."
Looking sideways, Iona's eyes narrowed at the one who spoke.
"It is only because I have been harshly treated by these brutes." Iona's voice sounded innocent. "I am a slave that serves best in the most feminine workings of a household. I am unprotected against such handling."
"I bet," the woman roared in laughter.
"She is all yours," one of the men said with relief.
"In all her luscious glory," the other one added.
"Oh," one remembered, "I wouldn't leave any knives around. She puts on quite a show attempting to hurt herself. The result could possibly be that you desire to hurt her. Removing any knives within reach would lessen the chances of assaulting her. I am sorry; I cannot guarantee that you will not find a way to improvise. The situation can be that desperate."
"I would be more careful of the one she has stolen from Kieren and hides under her skirting." The other laughed. "Perhaps she has been saving it for her final attack."
"Their words intimate that these beasts have somehow managed to get under my skirting," Iona said in shock. "I am not aware of such a thing. I have been unseeingly defiled."
"Intimate," the woman mocked Iona. "Unseeingly defiled."
The woman looked into Iona's eyes as if searching for something. Iona tried to widen them in order to impress the woman with their brightness. If she was found easy to the eyes, she would be more suitable for the house. Women were much harder to convince.
"Good grief. Are you sure she was ever a slave? The girl could have you all under her spell if she chose."
This brought more laughter from the men.
"Maybe she was not a slave at all," one teased. "Maybe they had caged her in hopes of shutting her mouth."
"What they obviously forgot was a muzzle," the other concluded with a wide smile.
Iona was more than offended and the ability to suppress her anger was dissolving. Fear was the only thing that held her, for she was at the mercy of this woman.
"Sorry that I played with you so," through laughter the old woman spoke.
She then became more serious. "There are no slaves in this house nor are they encouraged in others. You are free and urged to move about as so. I have no pleasure in babysitting the children of others. Kieren is quite aware of this. If you fail to be considerate or unable to care for yourself, I will place you in a cage—with a muzzle. There you will wait for Kieren's return."
Iona considered the women for a while. After finding her honest and easily amused, Iona calmed. She was more than ready for a hearty meal, in spite of the needless comments from her so called protectors.
"For the two of you, I can no longer contain my thoughts," Iona started at first convenience. "Both of you are in need of a bath and are worthy of only kissing the curve of my brown behind. Feel free to kiss it twice, since excrement falls so freely from your mouths."
The men raised their arms to smell themselves.
"Oh," the large woman laughed louder than before, "she does have a quick tongue, and at a table filled with food. Kieren explained this to me while here. I did not estimate the depth of his words. No wonder he stays as far away from her as possible."
The woman's words immediately sobered Iona.
The woman missed nothing. She now realized that it was more than this rare beauty's tongue that left him homeless. The old woman also recognized sheltered pain within the girl.
"I am Brenna to you," the woman announced. Unable to stop herself she added, "Or, you can call me Mistress Brenna the Great and Maker of Miracles, if you prefer pretentions."
Brenna decided that she would watch the young girl carefully, not for self-harm but for the safety of others. The girl could take care of herself, although strongly ruled by her emotions—no matter how contained she appeared. It was Kieren that would quickly end a life if the girl was harmed in any way.
Brenna actually felt sorry for the poor child. No experience could have possibly prepared her for Kieran. He confused even the most developed woman. He was an easy man to fall in love with and a hard man to fall out of love with. There were many women that loved him deeply, knowing their efforts were endlessly fruitless. Kieran remained blameless, never one to make promises with no intention.
Though a man with substantial appetites that were easily filled without request, nothing drew Kieren's mind from the accuracy of his sword. His love was for steel, the design of his knives and the never ending sea. His need was for battle, the taking of what he wanted and distribution of what he felt just. This was not hidden from anyone. No woman could compare. Unfortunately, no man would ever compare after a woman felt the touch of his hand. It was this way since he discovered his own cock. In Brenna's opinion, he had been given too much power too soon. Having experienced much, he often found himself bored.
The little one had been touched, that was obvious. In what way Brenna was not sure, he gave no indication other than the sadness of guilt. She wondered if it was Kieren suffering from the little one's touch. The girl was unique in ways that went beyond the color of her skin and the twists of her long hair. Brenna could see how that would be of interest to him. Age had taught Brenna that anything was possible. It also told her that danger rested ahead.
"Where is Gunner?" she asked the men before letting them go.
"Gunner and the girl had words. For her safety, it is best that he also remain at a distance."
"Where is Long Sword? I'm surprised that she is not left with him instead of you."
"You insult our ability to handle that which is barely a woman?"
"Where is he?" the woman asked impatiently.
"Probably in a woman's arms," the men teased.
Brenna looked at the girl with pure amusement. "Are you safe with anyone? Gunner is the most patient man I have ever encountered. You are pretty enough to at least have garnered a moment with Long Sword. I'm sure he carries the most weight of responsibility for you. Well on second thought, you may be too impressionable. He tends to make one's mind fail."
"I don't know?" Brenna further pondered. "You may be a handful for him, having ruined Kieren."
Iona broke off a piece of bread and bit into it before answering. "I have no idea who this Long Horn is. However, you obviously have seen the left side of this Gunner. I have seen the right. They are not identical."
Brenna shook her head. "I do like the way she speaks."
Brenna led her down one passageway. The result was a space only for Iona. Brenna told her that she could enclose it if she preferred. There had never been a space set aside for just Iona. The thought of sealing it so that she could truly be alone amazed her. There in Iona's space stood a carved wooden bed with feet that lifted it off the floor. She had a washing place that was bigger than the one Kieren had on the ship. Iona reached out and ran her hand across the smoothed wood. A wooden box, large enough to fit her body in, surprised her most. Iona stood there opening and closing the lid. The box had Kieren's symbol carved into its face.
Brenna informed her that the box should store her things. She would give her another if it did not prove to be enough.
"My things," Iona repeated in disbelief. "I have no things."
"You have nice things to store and wear." To Brenna the poor girl looked lost. "Kieren acquired many things for you. This I know. His men came here to purchase and trade for him. Some were at high cost, paid for with silver pieces. He was, as always, very specific."
"Yes," Iona said running her hand slowly down her outerwear as if feeling it for the first time. It had not occurred to her that anything nice was actually hers. She assumed the clothes she wore, like other things, would be returned to their owner eventually.
"His men will make the delivery shortly."
"Yes," Iona repeated.
Brenna began to worry. The poor child sounded unusually confused and a little daft. Brenna hoped that whatever was racing through Iona's mind would be figured out.
There were problems. Brenna did not like the girl hiding food. She wondered when the girl would come to know that there was no need for such. Rodents also sought warmth from the cold. If small weapons were left lying around, the girl collected them and then looked innocent when inquiries were made. As of yet, Brenna had not discovered that stash. She was quite sure that it was growing. Upon Kieren's arrival, she would inform him of the girl's hidden fears.
Truth was spoken; Iona did not have the restrictions of a slave. This excited her. Iona was a fast learner. She learned the village quickly—where to go and where not to go. The way everyone worked together amazed her. She knew what to find in each outbuilding. She knew the homes of many that worked in the square. She tried to be on speaking terms with all. There were a few that spoke harshly to her or seemed to have some animosity. They were mostly women, and of course a few of Kieren's remaining men.
One person in particular seemed to lead a select group of women in their hatred towards Iona. Her name was Astrid. Astrid attempted to make Iona's existence hell. With unusual ease, Iona ignored the barbs meant to degrade her intelligence, her skin color or her morals. Iona found her own intelligence to be greater. She believed that her morality should not be questioned and she was secure with the color of her skin. Her differences had at times been the only reason she was still alive. Iona was a free woman now. To irritate another free woman and remain one was exhilarating.
Her skills were few, but she made due. She could clean like no other and befriended the women handling laundry and such. It required much lifting, but Iona was stronger than credited. It took some time for them to warm up to her. Kieren's thoroughness in dressing Iona left her at a disadvantage. Iona found that once she dressed more like the locals and not like a mistress herself, the women relaxed. It meant that the weather had more of an effect, but that was a small price to pay. To some younger girls, Iona gave away a few choice things. The girls grew ecstatic when told they were of Kieren's choice. That was the winning move. Daughters and mothers began to like her. She would clean and help with the laundry as if it had always been her duty—which actually it had. Children would come to her each morning to learn a new word. Iona enjoyed that immensely. She too had taken advantage of every opportunity to learn as a child.
With Iona there the longhouse was cleaner than Brenna had ever known, as was the kitchen. Brenna decided that Iona was too clumsy to be trusted with any cooking. The simplest of tasks could result in cuts, bruises or burns. Brenna hoped Iona would be fully healed when Kieren finally arrived. The man wanted to appear indifferent, but had taken great care to establish the depth of her value to him. The entire village was aware of his demands.
Brenna hoped that Iona had not detected her shadow. Kieren's men were serious when it came to their assignment. Astrid had already been warned twice. There would be no third time.
Iona was more than aware that she was being watched by one of the men. He was quite good at fulfilling his assignment. Iona was quite good at taking in details and positioning people that surrounded her. As a child she had learned that skill in order to avoid situations that may have resulted in harm. If someone was not there when they should be, if someone was there that should not, was easily noticeable to her.
She played games to test him frequently. It was important that he not detect her knowledge. If so, Gunner would only assign someone else and maybe that someone would be keener. Soon she discovered how to easily lose him if she preferred.
The changing of the season brought warmer days, but mornings could still be bitter. As the days grew warmer, the restlessness within Iona grew as well. She became more mischievous. One morning she decided that she preferred to expand her freedom. This did not include cleaning or laundry. With an early start and the mist that covered the village, her escape was simple and took little effort. Brenna would not even discover her absence until later.
Iona's curiosity drew her to an area of trees and challenging terrain. The rising of the sun was beautiful through the growing leaves and the rise of the mist. The shift brought the sounds of the forest. But, there was one sound too distinct. Of course, Iona followed it.
She ran across an interesting site.
A man was having sex with a girl against a tree. The hem of the girl's clothing was pulled high as was one leg. His tall body curved into hers for better access. One hand was under the knee of the girl's leg; the other was positioned on the tree for leverage. The girl was opened wide and the flesh of her meaty rump was visible. His britches were low and a portion of his was exposed as well. Iona, with her head bent slightly to the side, found him to have a nice behind. The way it flexed with every push reminded her of Kieren's.
The girl clung to him for dear life and had the grunt of a man every time he forced himself upward. His push was so thorough that the girl's extended leg never touched the ground.
Their heavy breathing was obvious in the cold, evidence of their dedication to the cause. He gave her much effort as he developed his own rhythm. Iona admired his pacing.
Suddenly the girl let out a sound that Iona had never heard before. It was a grunt combined with a shriek. He immediately told her to please shut up. He plunged into her roughly several times as punishment.
With the power of each stroke, Iona wondered if the girl's back hurt as she rubbed against the tree. Each thrust took her up, each retreat brought her down. It did not seem to trouble the girl at all. As a matter of fact, the girl seemed quite comfortable in the positon and told him so. This resulted in him telling her to shut-up again. Each time brought punishment, which she seemed to also enjoy. The punishments hit a spot that made her gasp and flap her leg. She threw her head back and hit the tree. Iona assumed that it was the spot that Kieren had touched within her. Kieren's manipulation impelled a feeling so great, Iona would have hit the tree as well.
Iona had to confess, the scene was quite erotic. It did have its effects. The carnality made her breasts grow firm, aching for the grip of a strong hand and the pull of a demanding mouth. Either would do at this point. If she was alone she would be touching herself, gliding her finger in small circles around her firm center because its head would be too sensitive. Her body was calling for something stronger than her own touch. It was happening more each time she stimulated herself. The man became Kieren as her vivid imagination took flight. It was her ass up in the air. Kieren was putting his lips where her finger roamed and pulling with his lips. She had never experienced it, but knew it would feel amazing. The thought alone was enough to make her tremble with excitement. The result of Iona's breathing floated from her.
If she was closer she could possibly see the slide of him going deep and pulling back. Iona was certain that he was thick. Thoughts of the swollen lips of her pussy kissing the base of his cock and opening as he withdrew excited her. She wished that it was her against that tree being impaled with such force. Moans of want would fill the air as Kieren fucked her. The heat of his cock spreading through would make the coldness of the morning air non-existent. With him she would need no other. He would dive into her over and over. He would want her to make sounds. He would hit that spot each time. Their combined juices would crawl down her leg when they were through. Wanting to feel the effects long after parting, Iona would not clean herself.
The girl kept making that horrid sound, bringing Iona back to reality. If he had one more hand, Iona mused, he would cover her mouth. The thought was amusing.
Iona had to credit him for longevity. The girl's body and sounds indicated that he brought her extreme satisfaction several times. Each time he requested that she shut-up. With her final time and obviously most supreme one, he told her to please shut the fuck up. Then he actually showed an indication of his own release.
However, he made no sound. Other than telling her to shut-up, he was quiet the entire time.
He let the girl down gently with kisses. He righted himself and then tended to her. He drew his fingers through her red curls in an attempt to tame them. When he was finished, she kissed and licked at his lips.
Iona hoped her hair was clean. She was very self-conscious of these things, but not all women here were.
He was extremely kind, whispering things to her that made her giggle. The girl was attractive enough, Iona thought. Of course that was if you had a preference for that type.
He kissed her dearly one last time and reminded her of how beautiful she looked. He told her that each time he saw her he grew hard and became blinded by desire. He did not think he would be able to look upon her within view of the villagers. He did not want her pureness to be questioned. He also told her what she must wash with to prohibit her from being with child.
She thanked him whole heartedly for his gift and asked him if there could be another. He just lifted his shoulders in response. He did tell her that he might teach her how to please a man with her lips one day. This made her happy.
Iona wanted to laugh.
The young girl went off in the other direction smiling. He watched as she left. She looked back twice. Each time he waived and gave her a subtle nod of his head. She then disappeared.
"Isn't it a bit early for a lady such as yourself to be spying?" he inquired, leaning against the tree and crossing his arms.
Iona was both shocked and shamed. Her concealment having failed, she chose to boldly step out in plain view.
"I was desperately in search of my protector and came upon this amusing sight," she said.
He looked at her and laughed. He really was quite beautiful on the eyes in a manly way. She recognized him as the owner of the chest that almost broke her nose.
"I bet that you know perfectly well where your protector is and wondered off in the opposite direction."
"I'll have you know, Long Sword Sir, that I am incapable of such deceit. I've purely become lost," she returned offended
He walked up to her and lifted her chin, bending so that they were face to face. Iona could feel his heat.
"I happen to know that this deliciously edible girl that stands before me is far from pure and capable of much," he teased.
With a creased brow that revealed her distress, Iona was left speechless under the spell of his eyes. There was something about him that felt familiar and called out to her.
"I find it interesting that you stayed to amuse yourself from start to finish. I could smell the rise of your feminine nature. I have an extra sense for such. Has he touched you in the sensual way?"
"Who?" Iona managed.
He searched her face. As he did so, his warmth swept through her.
"I think not. If so you would have behaved better long ago," he said with a lower, smoother voice. "Hmm, I fail to understand his reasoning."
He drew his lips closer to hers.
"A woman like you needs constant attention-not just any attention though. You need attention from a man that makes the time you give worth the loss. You need a lover that is more of a man than others."
He paused. Iona became lost in the moment. Her mind could see his words.
"With ease the heat of his power spreads through you as he shares his love. He tells you that he sees what is behind those dark eyes that turn brown in the sunlight. Need grows within you for the warmth of his lips. The curve of his tongue directs you as it meets your own."
His words were purposeful, Iona knew this. They were also mesmerizing.
"Your skin needs the feel of his hands roaming your body as he gives you more than just love between your thighs. Your breasts press into him as you hold him tight. You need for him to claim you in every way, many times. It is only him that can."
With his blue eyes and the heat of his lips close to hers, Iona did not know how to feel.
"Sometimes he enters you softly and sometimes without mercy. Each appeals to you, doesn't it Iona? This time will be slow. He slides in, awakening new senses with every movement of descent. You offer yourself freely to feel the freeness he offers. He makes you feel the sky beneath you. Your body floats. The feel of him is so intoxicating that it brings tears to your eyes. You hadn't realized you starved until he feeds you. You love him for this. You love him much more as your body trembles and you finally know true ecstasy. He asks you if he can come within you. He lets you feel in control, but he is the commander. You gave him that the moment he chose you over all others. You plead for what he gives. He lets you plead. The scalding heat of him hits your womb with force. The muscles of your passageway grips him to receive as much of him as possible. You hold him tighter to you and beg in the tiniest of voices."
"Please never leave me."
"I never left you Iona, he says."
"His words make you tremble all over again. This is what it feels like to have your heart land softly in the strong hands of a real man."
Iona's breathing had changed. Her body wept. She could not decide its cause, was it that she missed Kieren or desired Long Sword?
Long Sword released her as quickly as he had taken her.
"My name is Russ, not Long Sword," he said walking around her. "I am Kieren's third because I am excellent and not as narcissistic as Gunner. I am in service to him because I am intelligent. I am his brother because we share the same father. My brother needs to return soon. You are a woman that should not be left alone for too long. Your nature is high and demanding. You are alluring and it goes beyond your unique shade."
Iona turned to look at him as he did her.
"Promise me that you will not touch yourself tonight with the thoughts I have instilled. You should save all of you for my brother. He will need every morsel you offer before revealing his weakness for you—even to himself."
He gave her Kieren's rare smile.
"Now come and let me protect your amused brown bottom," he laughed. "Who you tell to kiss it today interests me greatly. I have silver on it."
To be continued...
|
Sans found himself on a rooftop of a tall building. It was not even morning, the golden disc of the sun didn't show itself yet. The east side of the horizon was glowing lightly, but there was still time before sunrise.
Sans made a shaky breath, like he was on the verge of crying. In reality, these nervous breaths were plaguing him more and more over the last few years. The usual sunken-in bone under his eye sockets was much more prominent, giving him noticeable dark circles.
He was so tired, so broken. Sans was honestly surprised he hadn't fallen down yet.
Papyrus was very responsible and self-sufficient now.
Sans wouldn't mind falling down, at least then his suffering would end.
The wind blew in his face, but it didn't bother him much. One could say, it went right through him.
Sans let out a joyless chuckle. She would have liked that one.
But she wasn't here.
I was fine with the men Who would come into her life now and again.
She was a kind, beautiful human girl. With the rise of her popularity as an author, more people noticed that. Young men came up to her at meet-and-greets with flowers, others sent her love letters. Some of her editors looked at her with affection, even a few of the executives at the channel where one of her books was adapted as an animated series looked at her with interest.
She never gave him reason to doubt her, however, he trusted her fully. He watched as she politely smiled at someone who gave her a compliment at a signing and couldn't help but feel proud that she was with him.
I was fine 'cause I knew
That they didn't really matter until you.
But, of course, he ran into her one day. Yeah, sure, "ran into". They had mutual friends, he knew where she and her friends would be drinking coffee that day. He came into the coffee shop, all gallant and well-dressed like a prince from a fairy tale, his faithful 575 horses in the form of his BMW standing just outside. He came up to her and she, being her, welcomed him with a hug.
Something sparked between them then.
I was fine when you came And we fought like it was all some silly game.
Over her, who she'd choose.
Sans wasn't worried at first. The times they ran into each other Sans smiled, yet his eyes warned the man to stay away. The lawyer was always polite, but never missed a chance to be a gentleman towards her.
He started inviting her to human things, like to his hairdresser to "ease the boredom of getting a haircut". Then he started taking every chance to drive her anywhere she needed, even when Sans could do that in the blink of an eye. Somehow Mr.Perfect already made plans to take her wherever she needed to go.
He would take her to parties full of rich, polite, witty people. They would spend time drinking non-alcoholic cocktails and watching as people got more and more drunk, then poking fun at them. She, being her, would immediately fit in, especially with him by her side.
She would then come to where she and Sans lived and tell him about the hairdresser Sean took her to, the time when Sean reached all the way to the top shelf, not even needing magic to get her the book she needed, about the amazing family doctor Sean introduced her to. Sans didn't have hair, he would have had to use magic to get that book and monster illnesses weren't a thing human doctors could treat. So he joked and made puns about hairdressers, about books, libraries and tall people, about medicine and doctors.
She laughed, but it was quiet, distant. Like she was distracted. Or was missing something.
After all those years I never thought I'd lose.
One fateful day, they had an argument, Sans' patience snapping and his insecurities making him say things he shouldn't have. He didn't remember what he said. He did remember her shocked and pained expression and how she told him to get out. When he came back, she was standing there, a sad expression on her face, a lone suitcase by her side. It was closed, but he knew it was full of the presents he had given her over the time. And she wasn't taking it with her, she just put it all in one place for his convenience, for him to decide what to do with it.
Its over, isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it over?
All of her stuff was already gone, her being there was just a final gesture, showing her respect for him, wanting to say goodbye in person. He tried to reason with her, to remind her of the times they had together, to apologize, to ask, to plead, to beg.
She shook her head.
It's over, isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it over?
No doubt she called Papyrus to look after him. She was kind, even if she didn't love him. When his brother came by to check on him, he found Sans on his knees, eye sockets empty, the sundress he first met her in clutched in his bony hands.
She had left it.
She had left him.
You won and she chose you, And she loved you and she's gone.
Time passed and Sans was numb to almost everything. Until Papyrus, who was still her good friend, got invitations to her wedding.
At least Sans didn't have to lie about not being able to go. The agony in his soul made him severely sick, plagued by fever and migraines. When he was awake he wallowed in pity that she wasn't his anymore. When he was unconscious, he dreamt of their time together just to wail from heartbreak as he woke up.
It's over, isn't it? Why can't I move on?
When he got better, he could only compare his mental state to the time after Flowey had reset many dozens of times and Sans had given up on ever being free and happy. But that time they had Frisk, who fell to the Underground and freed everybody.
Sans, however, couldn't bring himself to believe that everything wouldn't reset again. Even after Frisk, the kind child who wouldn't have reset anyway, destroyed the Reset "button" Sans still couldn't dare and put his all into things out of fear that, eventually, it would turn out to be pointless when a sudden reset would throw him back into the Underground.
Nightmares, magic, constant tension. Resets, freedom, her attention.
It changed when he met her. He felt himself changing more and more, the more he was around her. She was like a spark that reignited his passions, his will to believe in a tomorrow that would never repeat itself.
Out in daylight my potential: Bold, precise, experimental.
He started spending all of his time at work. Working, sleeping - didn't matter as long as he didn't have to return home to see his very worried brother's face and to sleep in a cold, lonely bed.
She was the only one he was this open with.
He told her when Alphys invited him to try and work a day in the lab and she assured him he would do well. She took time out of her day to come and encourage him in person and, who knows, maybe because of that he didn't chicken out and found his passion for science again. And he told her when he got the job - she was so happy with him that he felt genuinely proud of himself.
He showed her when he was happy, when he was sad, when he was angry or nostalgic, when he felt confident or vulnerable. He confided in her like in no other, in an intimate manner he didn't have even with his beloved younger brother. She listened to him, kept his secrets, trusted him with hers, she encouraged him. He started not only showing more enthusiasm in the research the higher-ups wanted him to work on, but also making experiments to prove his own theories.
Sure, he still made puns and was lazy as hell at home and basically every chance he got, but no one had expected Sans, Sans the lazyboned skeleton to be so engaged in his work.
No one besides her.
Because of that, when he was at work he caught himself reaching out to his phone hundreds, thousands of times over the months. Then, Alphys came to his lab, crying.
She was dead.
Who am I now in this world without her? Petty and dull with the nerve to doubt her.
Two years have passed after the car accident. Here he was, standing on the roof, staring at the windows of the apartment where she and her...now widower lived together. The lights came on and Sean Reno went by the window.
This was the man who she chose. This human man who gave her the perfect life by normal human standards.
Would she have been alive if she stayed with Sans? If he dared and tried to get her back at least once, would she have come back to him? Could they have been happy?
What does it matter? It's already done. Now I've got to be there for her son.
Sean walked by the window again, a sleepy little boy in his arms.
The lawyer liked when there were plans and rules for every situation, so she, despite being young and healthy, wrote a will. In it, she stated that, in the event of her death, she wanted her son not to lose touch with her monster friends. To learn from a young age how wonderful monsters were.
Toriel became Godmother and Papyrus and Sans were named as caretakers if she wasn't available to take care of the boy in Sean's absence.
So whenever Sean had an important business trip, Sans had to take care of the boy. And there were many trips and many times when Y/n's family couldn't come over and Toriel was too busy with her students.
Why would she do that to Sans? Did she know that he could never hurt her flesh and blood?
But this was agony. Sans didn't hate the kid, but it was excruciating - he had her hair, her eyes, even her eyebrows. Sure, he was tall for a toddler, he was going to take after his...after Sean in built, but those were her eyes looking up at Sans, her hair shining in the light coming from the nursery's window.
He still loved her and this was the most exquisite form of torture, yet Sans couldn't refuse. It was her and-
No, it was just her son. It was her son. She was married, she loved someone else for a long time before her death. It's over. Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it over?
She loved Sean. She loved Sean, she looked at him with those e/c eyes and told him in that soft, loving voice that she loved him. And then she died. Even before her death, she wasn't his.
It's over, isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it over?
The glimmer in her eyes, the shine of her hair, the sound of her laughter. Her soft touch, her loving words, her affectionate gaze. None of it was his.
You won and she chose you. And she loved you and she's gone.
It was all Sean's, until the day she died. Sans had only memories. Memories of when she laughed at his jokes until tears appeared in her eyes, memories of him and her reading Papyrus bedtime stories, sharing glances and smiles.
It's over, isn't it? Why can't I move on?
Memories of them sitting on the beach, watching the meteor shower, him embracing her under the blankets and her resting her head on his clavicle. Memories of her saying to him that she was also in love with him and of that loving look in her beautiful e/c eyes. Those memories were so vivid as if all that happened just yesterday and it burned his soul.
He thought he had lost her when she left him. But what if he really lost her when she died? Did he, in his pain and apathy, throw out his second chance when he didn't try and get her back at least once? Was he responsible for her death?
It's over, isn't it?
She was dead.
DEAD.
He would never see her again.
Why can't I move on?...
He chuckled, a hollow, broken sound.
His left eye glowed cyan. A glowing broken bone appeared in front of him, the sharp end of it pointing at his soul.
He considered.
His smile widened.
"Sans?" He froze. Was he finally going crazy?
"Sans, please..." It was her voice. He would remember it until the day he crumbled to dust.
"Y/n?" he whispered and, immediately, realized something.
Her voice and his, they sounded different from all other sounds.
They were real.
His eyes snapped open.
There she was. She was laying next to him, sleepy and worried. She reached out and gently touched his cheekbone.
"Sans, are you o-" He hugged her so tightly as if their lives depended on it and nuzzled into her neck with his face, inhaling her familiar scent and feeling the warmth of her skin on his facial bones. She hugged him in return, making him sigh in relief.
"d-don't worry, Y/n, i-i'm gonna be fine in a sec, just, ugh-" "Shh. It's okay, Sans. I'm in love with you, it's natural that I worry," she said in a loving voice, making his breath hitch. "I'm with you. Let's just stay like this." Y/n caressed the back of his skull and cervical vertebrae, making him lightly shudder from pleasure and relax. He nodded slowly, nuzzling into her neck some more and they stayed in silence for a while. "Y/n?" Sans quietly called. "Yes?" "i had a dream about you leaving me for...a more normal human life. and then dying."
He never told her about what his nightmares were about before. It was time to start changing that.
"Well I was an idiot, then," she lightly kissed him on the skull and hugged him tighter.
Sans could feel her heartbeat through their thin shirts. He leaned lower and, noticing that, she moved a bit and lightly pressed his skull to her chest. Her heartbeat made his soul swell with happiness - it proved she was alive, healthy. That they were so very close and that she let him be this close.
Her voice and her heartbeat calmed him like nothing else in his life, he felt himself relaxing and closed his eye sockets to concentrate on them.
"I'm alive, see," he could hear by her voice that she was smiling that wonderful warm smile of hers. "And my heart is beating like this for you, Sans. Everything about you, every monster trait, every bone is dear to me." He took a deep breath and exhaled with relief, his eye sockets still closed, a blue hue coloring his cheekbones. "you're perfect, love," he said and inhaled in wonder as he heard her heartbeat quicken.
Because of him, because of what he said?
"you have no idea how precious you are to me, Y/n."
There it was again! Sans felt like his soul was gonna burst from joy.
Y/n, meanwhile, chuckled bashfully. "Let's not make this into a contest, you're also very important to me, vertebae." It was his turn to feel his soul pulsing - and in a good, happy way - in his ribcage. He chuckled sincerely and traced her spine with his hand.
"you mind if we stay like this for a while longer? bones not poking you too uncomfortably?" "Sans, I'll honestly cry if you don't," she cooed and kissed his skull again. "I've never been this comfortable in my life." "relieved to hear that, tibia honest. really didn't want to move away," he answered sleepily, being lulled by her gentle voice and her heartbeat. "There's the pun," she said contently and caressed his skull.
Her soft touch was the last thing he remembered before falling asleep.
Papyrus' POV
It was noon!
He opened the door, ready to wake his brother and his favorite author.
What he ended up doing was holding his jawbone from falling off.
They were sleeping alright, but it was so, so... Papyrus blushed bright orange. Probably this was a good time to make a rule to start knocking on doors to rooms where his brother and Y/n were sleeping. Otherwise, he risked to ruin a moment like this one before him.
Such an adorable sight. The tall skeleton's soul swelled.
And his brother looked so peaceful, so happy. Y/n, too, but Sans was looking very different from how he normally looked while sleeping.
Papyrus wiped a tear from his eye socket and closed the door as quietly as he could.
Okay, they had won, he'd come by a bit later and just knock until they woke up.
Until then, he had so_many_emotions. But he shouldn't make noise.
A minute later, Papyrus was in the forest, squealing and dialing Undyne's number. The monster girlfriends had been right after all, now there was no doubt about it. |
“Nee-san, you’re home!” Hanabi hugs her sister, but her gaze is fixed on the car backing up in their driveway. “Is that Sasuke?”
Hinata pulls away from the hug and steps into their home, “Yes, he gave me a ride.”
“Why?” Hanabi shuts the front door, her curiosity piqued, and follows her sister up the staircase to her bedroom.
“It’s a long story,” Hinata avoids eye contact with Hanabi, a clear indicator that she’s withholding something.
“I’m all ears. Not like I have anything better to do,” Hanabi sits at the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for an explanation.
“It’s Friday night. No plans tonight?” Hinata asks.
“Konohamaru is busy, and I’m tired” Hinata is the only person in their family that Hanabi has confided to about her love life. She knows Neji and her father would object to the casual relationship since there are no clear intentions for commitment from both sides, and likely not one in the near future. She is young and doesn’t want to be tied down but enjoys Konohamaru’s attention and affection. That is all there was to it at the moment.
“Want to have a movie night?” Hinata suggests, arranging her laptop on the desk and bringing out a few textbooks from her backpack.
“Yeah. But you’re avoiding my question. Why did Sasuke drop you home?”
Hinata sighs softly, “Because he invited me to his parents’ anniversary party.”
Hanabi had suspected Sasuke was interested in Hinata, but hadn’t thought anything would have materialized from it. “Are you two dating? How could you not tell me? And like how?”
“It’s a long story, Hanabi,” Hinata replies wearily.
“Okay, and we’ve got all night.” Noticing Hinata’s reluctance, she adds, “At least give me the short version.”
“We’re not together. He just wants me there to get his mom off his back about his romantic life.”
Amusement spins in Hanabi’s pale eyes, “Ohh, I love it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I mean Sasuke could grow some balls and actually ask you out. But I suppose he’ll eventually get there.”
“What? No? He doesn’t like me like that. I’m just a convenient option.”
Hanabi rolls her eyes at her sister’s naivety, “You’re so blind sometimes. But besides that, this will really fuck with Naruto and that pink bitch.”
“No, no no,” Hinata objects, “this has nothing to do with them. I’m not trying to fuc- hurt anyone.”
“But you will. Well I don’t know about Naruto, but Sakura will definitely be up in her feelings about it.” Hanabi didn’t have many interactions with Sakura when Hinata was in high school. But she and likely everyone else in the school knew of the woman’s obsession with Sasuke. It was embarrassing and a prime example of a gold digger. Hanabi hates women like that, especially when they act like they are above others. Sakura was in desperate need of being put in her place.
“I don’t intend to broadcast this fake relationship.”
“That’s dumb. You should.”
Hinata glances down at her hands, her fingers fiddling with the laptop cord, “Am I that pitiful, that I would be happy to be in a fake relationship with Sasuke?”
Sometimes Hanabi just wanted to shake Hinata’s low self esteem right out of her.
“No, you dummy.” Hanbi shakes her head in disbelief. “ Use it to get chichiue off your back. Speaking of the old man, he called earlier asking if I heard from you. What do you think he wants?”
Hinata’s eyes dart to the opened bag. She rushes to it to retrieve her cell, “Oh no, I forgot to unmute my phone.”
Hinata returns her father’s call as soon as the phone is unlocked. She sounds nervous while addressing their father, “Otou-san, I’m sorry I missed your call. I was at the library and I forgot my phone was on silent. Yes. I’ll be more mindful in the future.”
Hanabi leaves her seat on the mattress to crouch down next to Hinata to listen in on the conversation. Hinata pushes her away and mouths for her to go back on the bed. Hanabi instead rests her hip on the side of the desk and tries to decipher the conversation.
“I’m not in the city. I just arrived home. In Konoha. No, I don’t think Neji is here.”
Hanabi wonders what her cousin is up to, since he’s always stuck up under her father’s behind.
“Yes, I can take the train back,” Hinata looks disappointed but reserved to do their father’s bidding.
Hanabi whispers, “Tell him no. You have plans.” Hinata swivels away from Hanabi, “Yes, Otou-san. I’ll be on time tomorrow evening. Yes. It will be my pleasure to accompany you and Toneri-san.”
Hanabi grabs the phone at the mention of Casper the unfriendly ghost, “chichiue , Hinata actually has plans tomorrow night.
“Hanabi, why are you interrupting an important conversation?” Hanabi ignores her father’s serious tone, she puts the call on speaker mode. “If your sister has prior plans she can use her own mouth to tell me this.”
Hinata sighs in defeat in the background and brings her hand to her head as if she was massaging a migraine away.
“You know how she is sometimes, so forgetful,” More like spineless when it came to her father and his enforced obligations.
“Put your sister back on the phone,” Hiashi’s voice leaves no room for objection. Hanabi hands the phone to Hinata.
“Hinata, what plans do you have tomorrow evening?” Hinata looks at Hanabi as if she has sent her to the slaughterhouse.
Hanabi mouths, “tell him.”
“I made plans with Sasuke-san.”
“Who is Sasuke?” Their father asks.
“Sasuke-Uchiha,” Hinata clarifies. A few seconds pass, before Hinata adds, “Our neighbor who is Fugaku-san’s son.”
Hanabi can’t believe how unintentionally dismissive her father’s memory has become.
“Ahh, the youngest Uchiha son. Why are you making plans with him? I wasn’t informed that you two were acquainted.”
Their father’s obtuseness was rather baffling at times. Sasuke and Hinata had grown up together, attended the same schools - of course they were acquainted.
“We have become friends, Otou-san.”
Hanabi knows exactly where this conversation is leading. Hinata isn’t going to reveal that she has a date. Fake or not, their father should respect his daughter’s decision.
Hanabi snatches the phone away from Hinata, “Sasuke asked her out on a date.”
Hinata instinctively tenses in anticipation of an enraged response. However, their father’s response is genuinely confused, “Why?”
Why else would a young man make plans with a woman? It was as if Hinata was off limits to everyone but who Hiashi chose, and the entire world was supposed to be aware of this exclusion.
“Because he thinks she’s hot. I mean who wouldn’t. You should get it, she looks just like Kaa-san.”
“Hanabi, this conversation doesn’t involve you and I don’t need to be informed of my daughter’s attractiveness.” Hanabi drops the phone on the table, rolling her eyes, but remains at the desk.
“Is this true, Hinata? Do you have a date with our neighbor?” Hiashi’s regard of Sasuke was minimal to the point where he refused to say the young man’s name.
“Yes, it’s true.”
“Is it serious?”
“No, it’s our first date.”
“Cancel it.”
“I will,” Hinata agrees.
“What the hell, that’s unfair,” Hanabi intervenes.
“Language, child. This isn’t your concern.”
“I’m not a child and neither is Hinata. It is my concern.” Because he could enforce the same rules on her in the future. “Didn’t you promise our mother that you would allow us to choose who we want to be with?”
Their father and clan remained steadfast in archaic traditions, but Hanabi would try with all her might to defy it, and she had no reservations in bringing up their deceased mother to argue her point.
Her father remains silent on the phone.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t introduce my daughter - daughters to prospects that I deem eligible,” Hiashi counters. A reminder that this will one day be Hanabi’s future under discussion.
“Yes, but we should also be allowed to explore our selected options.”
“Fine. Hinata you don’t need to cancel your appointment with the young man. But next week, you’ll join me and Toneri-san for dinner.”
“Thank you. Yes, it will be my honour.”
“Must you be so duty-bound?” Hanabi asks when the phone call ends.
“Must you be so meddlesome?” Hinata quips right back, visibly agitated by the conversation. “You’re ruffling his feathers for no reason. I’m sure Sasuke would have understood if I canceled.”
“This has nothing to do with Sasuke. You need to grow a spine, before he marries you off to someone you barely know.”
“If that’s what’s expected of me, then I will honour my duty.”
“Oh, shush. Stop playing the martyr. We are not in the Edo period. Because one dumb blonde broke your heart, doesn’t mean you have to give up on happiness and love.”
“And you think I’m going to get all that my heart’s desire by going out with Sasuke to a family get together?”
Hanabi knows her sister isn’t expecting a response. Hinata grabs a towel from the closet and exits the bedroom. Hanabi follows close behind, “No, but it’s a step in the right direction. You can actually go on a date with a guy. Have you ever been on a date, Nee-san.”
Hinata shakes her head.
Hanabi frowns, “It’s fun and exciting. You should at least try it before giving in to chichiue.”
“But that’s not what’s happening with Sasuke,” Hinata tries to reason. “I’m doing him a favour. He doesn’t see me that way.”
“I think you’re wrong there. But we’ll see.”
As her sister begins to shed the layers of baggy clothing on the bathroom floor, Hanabi reminds herself that she will need to make some time tomorrow to take her shopping for an outfit and to get her hair done.
Before Hanabi shuts the bathroom door, Hinata peeks out from behind the shower glass to ask, “Movie in ten minutes?”
Hanabi smiles and nods her head in agreement. |
Thank you all for your patience and understanding as to why I had to remove the previous chapters. Once again, I apologize for the mix-up with the chapters and I am still unaware as to how they were crossed during the posting.
I have combined chapters so the first four chapters will be posted as two chapters. Thank you all again for reading.
The rush of adrenaline flooded the veins of the rider as he molded himself more to the bike. The bright street light illuminated the road clearly as he ripped around the corner at about 90mph. The bike dipped, almost merging with the asphalt but years of riding had honed his skill and dexterity. He easily brought the bike out of the turn only to increase the speed as he flew thought the intersection, merely milliseconds before the stop light turned red.
Feeling the adrenaline high he was on begin to dissipate, Storm began to decrease his speed. Another stop light was ahead but he was in no hurry to reach it. He wanted to cruise all the way home but the bike that flew past him had no such designs. Slowing down further, he observed the other biker, waiting to see if he would stop at the light.
The biker stopped. The street light at the corner of the road highlighted both the biker and the bike. Storm watched as the biker took off his helmet and long black hair fell down his back. Quickly glancing behind him, he became a she with an exotic profile. Her bike was blue; a Suzuki 1000 but before he could smile at her appreciation for Suzuki, she suddenly wrapped her hair around her hand and stuffed it back into her helmet before taking off, running the light. Immediately, flashing red and blue lights came on and Storm glanced back, as the police car passed him picking up speed.
His gut clenched and bile rose like a geyser in his stomach. He had a bad feeling about this chase and took off in pursuit. In what seemed like a matter of seconds, he passed the squad car but the rider was pushing hard, trying to get to the highway. She slowed to take the corner but not enough and was almost separated from her bike. Storm immediate slowed in front of the squad car forcing the cop to slow down before signaling for the officer to pull over.
The officer slammed the car door angrily. "What the hell are you doing? This is official police matter. Show me your license and registration now!" he demanded as Storm got off his bike.
"I am ADA Storm Monsello," Storm introduced himself reaching for his wallet. "I don't think it's a good idea to pursue that biker anymore. She was almost seriously hurt during that chase. Why are you after her? What did she do?"
The officer cursed under his breath.
He turned away knowing he had to get his emotions under control immediately. There was no way he was going to let some ADA report him to Internal Affairs for investigation. The girl was his and he was going to have her. Turning back to the car he realized he stopped in a dark area which obscured him nicely.
"She ran a light but I'll let her go. Just don't like reckless law breakers. Well, you have a nice night now and be careful."
The answer didn't sit well with Storm. "What is your name?" he asked but the officer hurriedly got into his car without answering. Storm shrugged, thinking the officer just didn't hear the question and was just trying to make his quota.
Parting ways, Storm resumed cruising on is Suzuki Hayabusa as his mind replayed the night's activities. Her bike was dark blue with light blue and neon yellow streaks. There was a dent on the left panel and he wondered how it got there. At home, he put his helmet on the kitchen counter and got a glass of water as he checked his phone for missed calls. There were two and both were from Audrey whom couldn't seem to take the hint that he wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Putting the phone down, he went to take a shower. As Storm lay in bed, his thought about this plans for the next day but his mind drifted to the biker. He wondered if she made it home safely. He wondered if he would see her again.
Sally MacDonald hurriedly parked her bike at the back of the building and looked around carefully as she took off her helmet. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she hastily ascended the stairs to her apartment. After entering, she ran to the window and carefully moved the blinds, looking for any suspicious cars driving by, mainly police vehicles. The sudden knock at the door startled her but she moved towards it cautiously. Looking through the peephole she saw her neighbor Paul from the floor above. Opening the door, she went to the couch and sat, finally releasing the breath she'd been holding since the time of the chase.
"What happened to you?" Paul asked casually as he entered.
"Lock it please," Sally replied as she closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the couch.
Paul did as she asked and moved to sit beside her taking note of her behavior. "What happened?" he asked again, this time with more concern.
Sally took a deep breath before opening her eyes and beginning to speak. "Roger fired me because I wanted to leave early again tonight."
"What! That prick fired you?"
"Yeah, and when I left, some guy started following me."
"Wait what do you mean some guy was following you? Do you know who he is? Did you call the police? You have to..."
"I didn't call the police. I rode home as fast as I could."
"Sally, you have to call the police and report Roger to the authorities. He can't get away with this. You know the only reason he fired you is because you wouldn't strip in that shithole he calls a strip club. I don't know why you were working there anyway."
Sally looked over at Paul, "Because it was convenient for school and the tips helped with my expensive ass text books."
"You should have gotten financial aid..."
"I'm not going through this again, it's done."
Paul sighed noting the ending of the conversation. When she got like this, she shut down. Once again he thought about that tone she could take instantly, a commanding tone that left no room for discussion. She didn't use it often but it was always there just below the surface.
Sally's phone rang and she casually reached for it.
"Hi Rhonda, what's up?"
"Hey Sal, nothing much? What's going on?"
"I'm here."
"Hey I have a favor to ask. What are you doing tomorrow morning? What time to you have classes?"
"It's my late day, why?"
"Can you do one of my jobs for me tomorrow? It's real easy. The guy is nice and he likes his sheets changed every two days or so. Put the plates in the dishwasher if there's any in the sink and tidy up his bathroom. He lives alone and it'll only take about an hour or so. Pays thirty bucks. Wha-da ya say? Use the money for a book or something."
"I don't need any more books. I'll do it and you can keep the money. Text me the address."
"Thanks Sal, you're the best."
"Why can't you do it?"
"I have a new house to work and it's larger and paying more so I'm hoping I'll get it but I don't want to lose this since it's so easy."
"Okay, I hope you get it. Let me know."
"Will do...bye."
"Bye."
"Was that Rhonda?" Paul asked.
"Yeah...she wants me to help her out tomorrow," Sally answered, "what do you have to eat?"
"Nothing but we can order pizza if you like."
"Naw...don't feel like that. I want something with more substance. I should have some leftovers if you wanna share."
"Of course."
"Good morning sis. You're up early," Storm answered his first call of the day. He was returning home to get the case files he left in his home office.
"Morning, this is your reminder about dinner tonight. I'm making one of your favorites, and your whore is not invited," replied Ayasha Monsello.
"Are you ever going to let me forget it? I forgot once..."
"Twice."
Storm sighed knowing he'd lost again. "I'll be there; six o'clock and I didn't forget your dinner to have sex with her."
"You did it once and that was enough."
"Ayasha let it go. It wasn't her."
"Storm be grateful I'm your sister so your forgiveness is practically guaranteed."
Storm smiled deciding not to argue in the face of his good fortunes. "I'll see you at six tonight Ayasha."
"Six o'clock," she replied much too sweetly for Storm's liking.
As Storm pulled in his driveway, he wondered if he would ever meet a woman Ayasha would approve of. Yes, she loved him but she was so over protective and although he knew why, he still wondered. She was so aggressively against Audrey that she didn't want them in the same room together. He knew it was because Audrey was his mother's choice for him but no matter how much he tried to tell her that Audrey meant nothing to him, Ayasha never failed to voice her negative opinion of her. He tolerated it because he agreed, Audrey was a gold-digger and not the woman he had any intention of spending his life with.
He was about to open his front door when he heard a scream that seemed to come from his house. Suddenly the door was pushed open and an object crashed into him sending him flying, gratefully onto the front lawn. But in the mad dash to get away, the body on top of him scrambled to gain footing and kneed him in the groin.
"Fucking hell," Storm yelled as he pushed the person from him and grabbed between his legs.
He glanced over and saw it was a woman who was looking back at the door while she tried to gain her footing again to take off. When she did, he quickly reached above him and grabbed her ankle to successfully stop her escape.
"No, no, let me go...let me go," she screamed and pleaded as she kept looking back into the house through the open door.
"Who are you?" Storm asked though clenched teeth as his groin continued to throb.
"Let me go," she screamed franticly again as she tried to kick his hand from her ankle.
Storm grabbed her other ankle and dragged her back to him and she began to scream and struggle harder. It was then that he realized it wasn't him she was afraid of but something else. Following her frightened gaze, he looked back into his house and saw a huge boa constrictor slithering to the front door.
He quickly released her, got up and pulled her along with him as they both ran across the street. They watched as the snake made no special move towards them but slithered around the lawn, mostly staying in the sunny areas. Storm turned to the frightened woman cowering behind him to really look at her for the first time. "Who are you and what were you doing in my house?"
Sally looked up at him for the first time but kept looking back to where the snake was. She glanced back at him and that's when he truly noticed how terrified she really was. She was shaking like a leaf in high wind.
"Hey," he said gently, "it's all the way over there and cannot hurt you. I won't let it, I promise. Now you have to tell me who you are."
Before Sally could answer, they heard the siren of the police cars that stopped alongside the lawn. Storm looked back at her and assessed her profile. He frowned thinking it was so familiar.
"You triggered my alarm. Who are you?" he asked again.
"I...I...I...Rhon [swallowing hard]...Rhonda asked me...me to come...come for her today."
He was extremely displeased hearing that but kept it to himself. "Okay, what is your name?"
"Hey man, you okay?" Mike Griffin a detective and personal friend of Storm asked.
"Yeah...I want to know how that thing got in my house."
"Animal control is coming to get it. Are you hurt? Is she hurt?" Mike asked noticing the girl still cowering behind Storm.
Storm looked at her again and tried to bring her forward but she wouldn't budge. She was backing away from him. "It's okay. It's not going to hurt you," he said but her fear was too great and not ebbing anytime soon he could tell. He turned to Mike, "Mike, kill that thing."
"Storm you know I can't do that."
Suddenly an officer came outside with a large cage and yelled, "It seems it got out of this. Is this your pet?"
Both Storm and Mike looked at each other and immediately knew who the snake's owner was. Storm could feel his blood begin to boil.
"You have until I go inside to get my gun. If it's on my lawn when I come out, I'm killing it."
"Don't fuckin' blame you," Mike replied before addressing the officer, "Are you afraid of snakes?"
"No sir...been handling them all my life."
"Good...put it back in that cage before he kills it."
"Yes sir, will do," and the officer proceeded to gather up the large constrictor.
Remembering the girl, Storm turned to address her again only to find her gone. Suddenly he heard her bike start and then she was riding away.
"Wait! Wait!" he yelled as he ran to stop her but she couldn't hear. It was then that he noticed the colors and dent on the bike. She was the same girl from last night.
"Who was that?" Mike asked.
"Don't know. She was subbing for my regular housekeeper but I never got her name. Shit!"
Sally MacDonald pulled the ponytail holder from her hair and tried to release some of the tension in her scalp. She was at the library unable to concentrate on any of the study material for her upcoming test. Last night was much more frightening than she wanted to admit. The cop almost caught her. Hurrying to leave, she dropped her bike on the huge rock in the dirt parking lot. Now it was dented and she had to take it to Tricks. Questions would be asked and Tricks would try and take it from her. But she needed it now more than ever. It was easier to maneuver through tight spaces and weave in and out of traffic when necessary. If she took it to another shop, he would hear and all hell would break loose. She was so close and yet so very far. She had to hold out a little bit longer. After that she would deal with the cop permanently.
Sighing she looked up at the guy walking by her table with a dark blue backpack and immediately began thinking about blue eyes. As terrified as she was of the snake, the homeowner's blue eyes also gave her a fright. A deep clear crystal blue that she felt could see her deepest secret...the ones she was determined to hide at all cost. When he pull her behind him to protect her from the snake, for a moment she felt safe...that was until he looked at her. The fear she felt then was different and far more intense than anything she'd ever felt before. So she fled from both him and the snake.
Sally thought and knew the perfect place to go only she couldn't leave. Final exams were a few weeks away and then getting and completing an internship.
Her name was Sally...Sally MacDonald Storm thought silently as he drove home from dinner with Ayasha. Somehow the name didn't seem like her. He pictured her having a sexy name to go with her exotic features. Rhonda and Sally were best friends. Sally attended the local university studying to become a medical tech scientist. Rhonda was trying to get other work which was why Sally was covering for her. He also found out Kevin had convinced Rhonda that he had given permission to leave his pet boa there while he was working on days he had to take the animal to the vet. Storm had quietly made a mental note to speak with Kevin about it.
Rhonda had profusely apologized and Storm had insisted on meeting Sally formally. Rhonda, grateful that she wasn't being fired happily agreed. Storm had hired Rhonda directly from the housekeeping agency that she used to work for when they closed. She came by Mondays through Thursdays to change the sheets every two days, make the bed daily, and to pack and unpack the dishwasher.
His phone rang and Storm answered distractedly. "Yes."
"Hi baby," said the voice on the other end.
"Audrey," Storm replied dryly wishing he'd looked at the caller ID.
"Where have you been? I've been calling you for the last few days. Did you get any of my messages?"
"What is it?"
"How about a late dinner?"
"I've already eaten."
"But I haven't."
"Audrey I'm busy, what do you want?" he asked again annoyed.
"I want to spend time with you. Why didn't you ask me to dinner? Are you seeing someone else?"
"Audrey, lose my number, now."
"Storm! Storm..." but there was nothing. He had disconnected the call.
"Shit!" Audrey screamed knowing she had messed up.
She had always been able to manipulate other men into relationships but not Storm. He proved far more elusive. The one time she showed up at his house uninvited, he became angry and only calmed when he verified that it was his mother who gave her his address. The two times they were together was once at her apartment and the other at a party they both attended separately.
Her one goal was to become Mrs. Storm Monsello. And even though she knew Ayasha hated her that was in no way going to stop her from being mistress of his mansion, and having full access to his bank accounts. To say Storm could keep her a lifestyle she could only dream of was an understatement. Her parent's wealth paled in comparison to his. Based on her research, he was worth more than five hundred million dollars. She had to have sex with him again, this time without a condom. He would never turn his back on his child or the mother.
But Storm meticulously wore condoms and always checked for leaks. He even went as far as to flush the used prophylactic down the toilet himself. Regardless, she had to do something.
Sally ran up the stairs of the Waves and Stars Open Bar and Grill. She was late for work due to her constant editing of a finished paper that wasn't due for another two days. Jack, the owner was busy clearing some beer bottles from one of the table.
"I'm sorry Jack. I was editing my paper," she said grabbing two towels and the bucket of soapy water from behind the bar to begin washing off the tables.
"That's okay kid. I knew it had something to do with school. How is the studying coming along?"
"Great if I could get some sleep."
"You won't do good on your exams if you don't rest."
"I will. Go finish your paper work. I'll be finished out here by the time you're done."
"Sure you don't need the help?"
"No, go."
"Oh, by the way, someone left their keys. They're in my office."
"Okay but they probably got a ride from someone."
"Maybe..."
When Jack left, Sally plugged her iPod into the two mini speakers on the bar counter. They were loud enough for her to hear comfortably while working but not to block out the sound of the beach. She danced and sang as she cleaned off the tables. Dumping the dirty bucket of water, she stopped by Hot Mouth, Jack's slick talking parrot. Hot Mouth was bobbing his head to the music when Sally began speaking to him.
"So Mouth, how do I get this cop to stop stalking me?"
"Behind you! Behind you!" screech the parrot. Sally looked around quickly and dropped the towel.
"Hi. I left my...you're the girl who was at my house," Storm said recognizing Sally immediately.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Sally lied before turning and yelling for Jack.
"Yes, you are. You're name is Sally." He took a step but stopped when he noticed she quickly moved behind the nearest table.
"Hey there young man, can I help you?" Jack asked.
Storm watched as Sally then moved to the bar. "Yes, I left my keys. It's a wolf key ring."
While speaking with Jack, Storm kept glancing at Sally from the corner of his eye.
"Yes, I have them. They are in my office. Sally can you get them for me please, they are on the desk."
Sally closed her eyes and when she opened them it was to see Storm looking at her smiling at Jack's confirmation of her name.
"I'll be right back."
"So how did you enjoy yourself? I don't think I've seen you here before."
"No, you haven't and I enjoyed myself. This is a quaint place you've got here. Very relaxing," Storm said looking around as they waited for Sally's return.
"Good. How did you hear about us? Maybe I can do some advertising in that area to boost some business."
"Actually some guys from work were speaking about this place last week so I decided to tag along tonight. Your advertising was free...word of mouth, the best kind."
Jack laughed, "You're right about that."
"Here they are Jack," Sally said handing him the keys but she stay behind Jack which didn't go unnoticed by Storm.
"Here they are. Be careful next time young man."
"Thanks, I will. By the way, my name is Storm," and he offered Jack his hand.
"Oh yes, Jack, owner," Jack replied shaking Storm's hand.
Storm also offered her his hand but she took a step back and said, "Hi," instead.
"Okay...hi," Storm reciprocated lowering his hand. "Well I'll be going now," he said to Jack, "Good night and thanks again." He looked directly at Sally before turning and leaving. As soon as Storm left, Jack turned to Sally, "Do you know him?"
"Not really. I saw him at a job I was helping Rhonda with a few weeks ago."
Storm watched as Sally carefully looked up and down the street two to three times before putting on her helmet and getting on her bike. He waited for her to turn down the road before following her. He heard what she said to the parrot. She was been stalked by a cop and his gut instinct told him it was the cop from that night.
and now more than ever, he wanted to know how her bike got damaged. He had a feeling it was from her trying to get away that night. He felt anger. He should have gotten the squad number or the very least the officer's name and badge number. Why did he just dismiss the incident? He knew better.
This time he was able to fully appreciate her curves which were all in the right places. Small breast, tiny waist, wide hips and long well shaped legs encased in skinny jeans that fit perfectly. Once again her hair was in a bun and he wanted to run his fingers through the mass to feel how soft the stands were. The poor lighting couldn't hide the flawlessness of her skin or its glowing walnut color. Her lips were full but not too pouty and he wanted to feel for himself if they were as soft as they looked.
Sally pulled into a local fast food restaurant and Storm parked in the darkest area of the parking lot where he could continue to watch her. Having written down her plate number, he watched as she looked around often, wary and cautious of her surroundings. Getting her food, she rode to her apartment and he lingered long enough to notice that she didn't park her bike in the front but in the back of the building.
After about fifteen minutes, when he felt she was safely inside, he made his way home. As Storm drove home, he wondered how he could help Sally. Only just finding out what was happening, he didn't understand why he felt slightly responsible. First thing he had to do is gain her trust and he had a feeling it was going to be quiet an undertaking.
Mike looked at the criminal report of Rhonda Pitcher, Storm's daily housekeeper. He met her the day after the boa incident at Storm's house when she showed up for work. Storm had been angry about her giving someone else access to his house without permission but had let her off the hook because she said Sally was her best friend. Now Mike's gut instincts told him that housekeeping wasn't the only work Rhonda was looking for.
Mike knocked on Storm's office door. The other lawyer he was working with quickly opened the door and said hello before existing.
"Hey Mike, what's up?"
"I need you..."
"Detective Griffin!" a young officer called out stopping Mike from entering Storm's office.
"Yeah...oh hey Charlie. What's up?" Mike asked keeping the door open.
"You know that bike plate number you asked me to look up?" When Mike acknowledged, Charlie continued, "Well it belongings to a guy named Bobby Chin and he has several other vehicles registered under his name. Here's the info on him."
"Thanks Charlie."
"Anytime Detective Griffin; if you need me to help out, I'm here."
"Thanks again Charlie," Mike said before entering Storm's office and closing the door behind him.
Mike dropped the reports in front of Storm before taking a seat in front of his desk. He could never understand how Storm was able to keeps his office clutter free when most of the other lawyers' office looked like a war zone.
"What's going on?" Storm asked looking at the report. "Wait, is this my house keeper?"
"Yes and she is the common factor in the string of breakins' we've been having lately."
Storm looked up immediately, "What?"
"Yes, also her friend Sally, her bike is registered to someone by the name of Bobby Chin."
"A husband or boyfriend or even father maybe?
"No but I think I know him."
"Know him how?"
"I think I may have gone to school with him before my parents moved away. I'll have to check to see if it's the same person. Also the address is not valid. The properties around that area were demolished years ago when the state and city were purchasing properties to do road expansion and area rejuvenation projects. If there was a property there, the address was never changed."
"But why? Why keep an old address that doesn't exist?"
"Hiding something."
"Or from someone?"
"You don't have her phone number?"
"I'm trying to get it."
"You know..."
"You and I both want to know how the system never caught that the address was no longer valid." Mike sighed and leaned back into the chair. "I...you said she said the cop was stalking her."
"Yeah...that's what she told the parrot. She said it because she was alone...or thought she was."
"Yeah...there's more going on here."
"Yes, I agree. When she went to get food, she was always looking around...wary, tense. I don't think she was making it up Mike. I think that cop really is stalking her."
"Storm, I can't just go on what you heard. He may have noticed this also and is trying to figure out what's going on."
"Yeah...there's that too," but Storm didn't believe it. There was something in the way Sally behaved that leading him to believe she was in danger. "Keep me posted." Mike nodded and got up to leave. "Hey am I firing my house keeper?"
"I want to tell you yes, but I can't. She hasn't done anything illegal at your house and we need to keep an eye on her."
"Am I now a part of the investigation?"
"No, I'll talk to the captain but Sally is."
|
From that moment onward Iona sought out this Russ called Long Sword. The images he had spun created a need so great that she could physically feel the man she wanted most.
With Iona's exhaustive imagination, she could feel Kieren's resting on top of her. The press of his awe-inspiring body against the softness of hers felt real—skin on skin, moist from exertion. Behind her closed eyes, she could actually feel his hands squeeze her breasts with appreciation, his tongue flick one dark tip before the lips she yearned to kiss drew from it with need. His pull was strong and the feel of his teeth proved his hunger.
Her Kieren progressed upward after laying kisses between her bosom's warmth. Iona welcomed the pain of him marking her neck. Strong hands moved across her back, feeling more than just the surface of her skin but who she truly was. His cock, solid and promising, glided across the head of her clit-lubricated with her own quintessence. The push at her entrance made her gasp. The smoothness of his thrust made her exhale.
Every quiet moment became dedicated to these thoughts. As her fantasies claimed her body and mind, the ripeness of her breasts made her hardened nipples visible behind the face of anything she wore. In secret, Iona slid her hand between her thighs. She dipped her fingers past her pussy's lips and then brought those same fingers to her tongue to taste this sweetness her thoughts encouraged. She yearned for her lover's touch, to see him lick his lips in expectation. She wanted to see his response when she fed herself to him, to see his reaction to her delectable flavor.
Iona felt the heat of her own wanton desires. Her thoughts of him held power. She could smell the perfume of their lovemaking.
In Kieren's ear she whispered, "Please never leave me."
In hers he whispered, "I never left you Iona."
The smoothness of his voice caused shivers as his words echoed in her mind. Just as her imagination mounted, reality set in.
Kieren's other words replaced the imagined endearments.
"What would possess you to believe that I would bother myself with the thought of fully using something that has no use? How could something empty and broken hold anything for me? Of what satisfaction could you possibly give? When I need comfort or warmth I go where it exists."
Sadness would then grip Iona. The sudden shift of thought caused dizziness and the start of tears.
For all these feelings, Iona thanked Russ and cursed him. Her mind sought him to declare both.
Russ proved to be quite promiscuous and less committed to Iona's safety. As a show of great appreciation for his favors, women delivered honey coated breads, pies, and homemade sweets of various kinds to the Longhouse. The impression was that their innocent offerings were for all the men that dined. The so called gifts were never distributed equally. They found their way to Long Sword's table. If so inclined, he shared.
Besides finding him to be an enormous whore, Iona learned that he was a fierce warrior noted for his stealth. He was said to have a blade so swift that it was only detected after its purpose was completed. His aim with the bow was revered. Taught by Kieren from a young age, Long Sword was often compared to Kieren but fell short. This was the cause of many arguments and challenges between the two men; Kieren always triumphed. Russ' love and respect for his brother ran deep. The two were like one, yet always at battle. No one dared intercede; they were quick to join forces. To be the source of their focus could prove painful.
Iona often found Russ in the process of indulging his appetites. His preferences varied, some of the young women were quite fleshly and others could be easily blown by the wind. From their sounds, the women were more than grateful for his attentions.
Russ was never shocked or embarrassed by Iona's intrusions. While licking the smoothness of whoever's neck, he would wink as if Iona and he were in cohorts.
Iona would lick her tongue at him.
Russ warned her once. With a sly smile, he told her that he might put that tongue to use.
"You would fancy something so nauseating," Iona returned with a disgusted look on her face.
This brought nothing but laughter. "You would find the touch of my tongue more talented than the touch of your hand."
"So you would like to believe," she threw back at him.
"Remember little flower," he said, his face somewhat sober, "you are the one seeking me out, not the other way around."
"You can..."
"I know," Russ interceded with a grin, "kiss the curve of your brown ass."
Iona was suddenly paralyzed when he moved closer and lowered his head to whisper in her ear. She could feel the heat that was him.
"Unlike the others, your request for kisses only brings me nearer," he told her. "I would enjoy what you offer. Keep in mind, a kiss would not be enough for a man like me. I bite."
Iona attempted to slap him, which only brought more laughter. She stamped off in a huff.
Russ watched her walk away. He knew the truth of his words. The exploration of his thoughts caused his groin to tighten.
"Kieren needs to return for what is his," he whispered to himself.
Long Sword became Iona's new source of entertainment. She was certain of her hate for him, at least until she saw him next. Their exchanges resulted in an attempted slap and a frustrated Iona. She never failed to curse him while walking away, which of course he laughed at.
Russ had always found Iona entertaining. Her sultry lips could be sweet one second and salty the next. Her wit was quick. Her craftiness was endless. No one made him laugh as quickly as she did.
He saw the fire in her eyes, even as she sat freezing in the cage they found her in. The memory of her past situation still moved him. He would never find it amusing. His brother's interest in the girl was no mystery to him. Russ had immediately felt her pull as well. The day she stood gazing at the sea truly weakened him. He had seen no fire in her eyes as she passed. Despair emanated from her like the smoke of a dying flame. Russ had sent Gunner to distract her. It was not the orders of his brother he feared. He had feared her loss.
********************
One day the hunt for Long Sword held little interest for Iona. Like her he seemed distracted and Iona barely noticed when he disappeared. An incurable restlessness overwhelmed her. Something was there in her mind, but just beyond her reach. Her skin became overly sensitive. Every shift in the air could be felt by the slight hairs on her arms. But, there was no wind in the leaves of trees. In spite of the sun's heat, she would find herself shivering. There were moments when she felt the brush of water against her legs. Familiar things became strange. Grooves and smooth surfaces became more detailed. The need to touch and be touched plagued her. She feared that her mood was evident. Those around her seemed to sense it. Their interactions with her were odd. There was an unknown influence drifting. She was both elated by it and in fear of it.
Every minute passed slowly. At the end of the day she felt exhausted, but the rise of the moon brought no relief. Iona's dreams were disturbing; she tossed and turned. In her dreams, waves of water crashed against her as Kieren watched. She tried to tell him that she could not swim. Her words were lost. The touch of his hands soothed her. He tasted of salt. Her delights became nightmares as the sea filled her lungs.
His whisper was in her ear. It was soft and loving, but its intent broke her heart.
"Never forget what I say to you today, for I shall not."
Wrapped in sorrow, she rose in the earliest part of the morning. The need to watch the sun eventually rise settled upon her. Its birth always gave her hope.
Before entering the main hall, familiar sounds brought her to a halt. There was moaning of the most sensual kind. A woman purred with words of adoration. The man responded in harsh tones, low enough to be hushed by the slight crackling of the hearth. What came next was unmistakable. The man groaned with satisfaction as he obviously gave the woman what she begged for. She was immediately silenced.
The sound of his satisfaction made Iona long to be the cause. The erotic humming of the woman only increased that desire. This man had to be truly gifted. The woman was apparently gifted as well. She stopped to ask him if he missed what she was doing. A sound rose from him in confirmation to compliment her efforts. Iona wished to see the technique of this woman. Russ rarely responded in such a way. Not once did he tell the woman to quiet down. This was unique. If Iona wished to win Kieren's attentions, she would need to have such techniques.
Iona dropped to her knees so that her shadow would not reveal her presence, and crawled forward. She could see the bottom half of Russ's bare, muscular legs spread. Positioned between his legs was a woman on her knees. She had to be taking him in her mouth. She would grasp the cheeks of his firm ass and pull him into her.
Iona crawled out further and hid herself under one of the tables.
Their movements stopped. When the woman protested, Russ hushed her. He was obviously surveying the large hall.
Iona held her breath. Little passed Russ when it came to her trickery. Too, he had a certain sense about things. As if by magic he could appear and disappear without sound; but, no one could claim having done the same to him.
Iona was relieved when they continued. She was on the verge of passing out.
Damned Russ, she thought.
From her new position, Iona could see the other woman taking him deep within the cavern of her mouth. She could not completely devour him and her lips were stretched wide around him. Pulling back she then dipped her head to lick and suck his full sacks. The flat of her tongue also licked up the underside of his cock with care. It appeared to have the most rewarding of flavors. As she did that, one hand encircled and messaged his hardness.
Iona caught sight of him fully erect. For the first time she realized that Russ was quite capable of splitting a woman in two. In her shock, she mistakenly made a sound.
The man pulled the woman off of his cock by the hair and quieted her protest. Once again he combed the room for movement.
Iona stayed perfectly still and held her breath once more.
Suddenly he growled, pulling so firmly on her hair that she remained stationary. He began to fuck her mouth at his own pace. Iona thought him to be too rough. This was so unlike Russ. The woman gagged before encouraging him with the pull of her hands. He showed no generosity or consideration as he pursued his satisfaction.
Iona loved the way a man's ass flexed as he drove into a woman. She could clearly see him from the side and that dent his flexing created. As the speed of his motion increased, Iona grew wet. His harshness was as exciting as the act itself.
She had promised to not touch herself anymore. Besides finally admitting it to be an improper habit, it only seemed to increase the hunger of her nature—thanks to Russ. Watching him fuck the mouth of the woman only made Iona's body desperate for fulfillment. Iona's clit was swollen and pulsating. Her breasts grew firm. They pleaded for touch. Iona's imagination became alive and combined with what her eyes saw. His rhythm became her rhythm. She wished it was Kieren fucking her with such vigor. She imagined the feel of him against her tongue, him hitting the back of her throat and slipping further. Even the pain of him roughly pulling her hair made her want him more.
Iona's need for Kieren was so strong that he could have her any way he pleased. If his desire was to fuck her as he did before, she would bend over and spread her ass to receive him. Her surrender would be complete. Even his abuse would be welcomed because she was already his. He was what she lived for. Each plunge deep inside of her would only bring him closer. Having him inside of her, for him to flood her with his spirit was her craving. This was the only way she could reclaim her own. He was the only one that could place her heart back in its place.
Iona had to cover her mouth as she crested in unison with him. It was so important that they not hear her sounds intermingle with their own.
He asked the girl something in a gruff undertone. The woman obviously could not speak. He pulled out of her mouth and his cum, thick and continuous, spouted out on her face and into her hair. Iona almost missed it; she was so caught up in her own pleasure. The woman held her head back, opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to receive the last surge. He did not deny her request.
The woman then laughed in satisfaction and Iona immediately recognized the sound. It was Astrid. She had laughed enough at Iona to be easily identified. Astrid did not bother to wipe her reward away before she stood. Iona gained great satisfaction in the fact that Russ had aggressively fucked Astrid's mouth, especially since she had spoken so ugly to Iona.
Astrid appeared to be begging again. He pushed her away. She teased him by working him with her hand. There was no need; he was still somewhat full as if he had not emptied himself. He could easily fuck her if he chose.
Iona was amazed that was possible. But then again, it was Russ— big whore.
Iona repositioned herself and rose up on her knees to get a better look. Astrid raised one leg resting it on a table. The woman was bold and desperate. She was trying to force him into her.
He was not interested, or so Iona thought. Iona stood in time to catch him pulling Astrid's leg up further with his arm, lifting her entire body with the other, and dropping her on top of a table. While she was on her back, he grabbed her ankles dragged her toward him until her ass hung slightly off the edge. He pushed her knees toward her chin. Her feet rested against his chest as he pressed forward, lifting her ass up to meet his cock. When he jammed himself into her, Astrid grunted. He ignored her sounds. He rammed himself inside her and began aggressively fucking her
Iona enjoyed the fact that he seemed not to care for Astrid's comfort as he propelled deeper. She could hear the sounds he made with every push.
Astrid's voice rose as disgusting words left her lips. Even with those words she still could summon the hunger of any man, Iona thought.
Russ fucking Astrid, of all people, angered Iona too. He could have any woman in the village and surrounding settlements. Why would he slum with the pigs?
Shaking her head, Iona then positioned herself so that she could easily be seen. This necessity allowed her the upper hand in teasing both Astrid and Russ later. She would clear her throat once he was finished with his assault.
As usual, Russ had his hair knotted at the top of his head. He was tall but lifted Astrid into him as if her weight was nothing.
"Is this what you plead for?" he growled, lifting her higher and increasing the arch in her back. There was an unusual bass to his voice.
Astrid kept saying yes until her final outburst...
"Kieren."
Iona quickly put her hand to her mouth and suddenly felt light headed. She did not feel faint, she felt like emptying her stomach.
Kieren slammed himself into his lover once more before pulling out and spilling across her middle. He stood up fully and stretched his back in all his magnificence. Iona had never seen his hair that way. Maybe that was why she did not recognize him at first. Now it became more than apparent. Russ could be compared to Kieren, but in no way could he replace Kieren in form.
How could she be so stupid? Astrid was who he had chosen upon his return. Astrid was where he came for warmth. Who was the pig now?
Iona gagged into her hands before bending over and loosing herself. A sensitive stomach had never been an issue with her. She hated that, of all times, her body chose now to reveal a weakness. She was shamed by the immediate look of recognition Kieren gave right before she bent over.
"Iona," Kieren began to plead.
"Step away," Brenna demanded. "Do not lay one finger on her."
Iona felt the comfort of Brenna's hand rubbing her back. She did not want to stand straight and be seen this way by either Astrid or Kieren.
Brenna shielded Iona with her body, leading the girl out of view.
Kieren, still naked, came to the opening leading to the kitchen.
Iona did not have to see him; she could feel his pity as Brenna led her away.
"Iona," he called out.
"Kieren," Brenna yelled back at him, "you are an ass. You are an ass with no sensitivity. Was there not a better way to let her know of your return? This house is large but not enough for your uncontrolled maleness."
"The bitch came to my bed," Kieren declared in his defense.
He then realized how weak he must sound.
Brenna replied. "Then that is where you should have fucked her."
Brenna had only emphasized what Kieren thought of himself. Again he had lost his honor in the eyes of Iona. He had added insult to insult, therefore guilt on top of guilt. His return was only due to Brenna's encouragement in regards to the girl. Brenna had sent a message that Iona missed him and her feelings for him was not weakened by whatever misdeed he had committed but grew. Kieren had come to make his appeal and, if possible, gain Iona's favor.
His opportunity was now lost.
Kieren had been angered beyond compare with Iona the night he degraded her. Pride had taken him beyond reason. Even in his fury he knew himself to be wrong. He could not look into the faces of those most concerned. He could give them no explanation. He left them, his ship and his home. He did not leave without issuing orders with consequences clearly understood.
He realized the completeness of the words he whispered so harshly into Iona's ear. If they had been spoken to a man, that man would guard his life with fear. Iona was no man. She was a woman of distinct sensitivity, sensitivities that required more than he could offer. He was ill equipped for the emotions she drew from him. Kieren had believed himself to be her greatest threat.
However as he drifted further away from her, Kieren's anger dissipated. By the time the desire for her presence consumed him, he was beyond the point of return. Once again he related to Iona's state. When trapped, she reacted as any soul would. She clawed her way free. He had reasoned that Iona wanted freedom; she just had no idea what she wanted to be free of.
Anger then intensified towards himself. Kieren felt heartless and it showed. His hunger for the fight escalated. He gambled with his life to dull pain. His aggression frightened his men. Upon realization that the legends were truths, Kieren's enemies died with their eyes still open.
For Kieren his feats offered no diversion.
When Kieren received Brenna's message, he was drenched in the blood of others.
His War Ship was pulled alongside of another. He had been the first to leap onto the other vessel and immediately claim lives. With Kieren taking the lead in the attack, there was little effort needed from his men.
His men now gathered the cargo of the defeated and transferred it to a close by knörr, one of Kieren's ships primarily made to carry cargo. Kieren had summoned it earlier, so sure that the hunt would be brief. The chill of the North winds whipped around him and made his blond hair wild. He looked every bit the fearsome Viking. Men rested on their knees before him, begging for life. It had become a common scene and carried little interest.
Kieren had welcomed Brenna's message.
Now, the matter was exasperated by his lack of forethought.
Astrid had immediately sought him out upon word of his arrival. Kieren could not be found. In the darkness of night she slipped into his Long House and with familiarity found his private area. The knowledge that he would be naked and the idea of experiencing him made her pride irrelevant. Her will had always been strong and because of the convenience, he had tasted from her often. Although constantly reminded that there was no future to be found with him, Astrid felt that he would eventually realize that they were two of a kind. Kieren was undeniably the alpha male and she the alpha female. No one was capable of handling him as she did.
Before she fully entered his area, Kieren's knife was at her neck. With realization, he cursed her. Normally her pressing would be accepted, even amusing. At times she was quite pleasing. Months of wrestling the sea had its toll. Despite his respected qualities, Kieren was just a man.
However, his current needs were specific; they were for Iona. He had no desire to hurt Astrid, but she only responded to force. When her arms wrapped around his neck and she went for the feel of his lips, he had no choice but to fit her wrists with the force of his grip and turn his face away. Her protests fell on deaf ears. He grew tired of this common dance between them. With her hands clasped before her and her back to him, Kieren led her to the door.
Astrid was aware of Kieren's weaknesses. Some men lost themselves between the softness of generous bosoms. Others appreciated the feel of a curvaceous bottom. Although having an appreciation for both, she knew that Kieren's needs had more of an animalistic nature. She turned quickly and pressed herself against him. She knew just how to raise his ire, how to blind him with his cravings and the anger that merged with it.
That was why she had dropped to her knees before him earlier. What man could resist the feel of a woman's mouth? It gave much pleasure and required little commitment. From that position, Astrid had shared her best attribute. She wanted to give him more.
Kieren's interest in her was always primal, if there was interest at all. He treated her with no sweetness. She needed none. Kieren was not crude to women-generally. With Astrid, her preference was crudeness. It was the only thing she had respect for. Iona witnessing his perverseness left Kieren with great shame.
As Kieren watched Brenna lead Iona away, Astrid laughed and gathered her wrap.
"Why do you bother with the child-like sensitivities of that slave girl? This woman's warmth is always available and knows well how to please you. I know this because I feel how your body reacts. I am the only one that defeats your self-inflicted constrictions. She is a child knowing nothing about the needs of a warrior."
"She is neither a slave nor a child. She is under my care. I'll have you watch your damned tongue Astrid."
Astrid pressed her clothed body against his bare one and held his cock in her hand. "I am under your care as well."
"You are under the care of many I assume," he said while looking down at her face. "There is no need for mine. And, there is none given. This between us has little meaning."
Kieren's words were sometimes harsh but Astrid gave them no weight. For the first time however, Astrid found him flaccid in her hands. It was something she did not think possible, not just because of her expertise but his virility.
"You are a man that requires a full woman, not an imitation," Astrid purred while attempting to solve this rare challenge.
"If your words are true," he spoke in such a way that drove his point to finalization, "she is my full woman. You are the imitation."
"Your heartlessness offends me Gulbrandson Kieren," she snarled at him. "You forget yourself and your breeding. You seem to have overlooked your obligations. Your concerns are missed placed. The house of your father and the line of your family rest on your shoulders. The weight of matters does not include the taint of a Blåmenn whore. I would hate to see your father give you nothing but the sight of his back as he denies your existence."
Weariness that accompanies long travel came over Kieren. He had no desire to go in this direction with her. She greatly misunderstood the flow of things.
"Woman you choose the wrong threats. We shall end this conversation. See your way to the house of your father. Take your fine breeding with you."
"Are you going to let me walk alone in the darkness Kieren?"
"Do not pretend that this is your first time and I will not. Let us part while still on speaking terms."
Kieren found his way to his private area and fell naked across his large bed. It had been a long time since he had a full night's sleep. He had Iona's anger; he also had her presence among what was his. She was safe from harm. For now that was the extent of his capabilities.
After cleaning Iona off, Brenna had a hard time calming the poor child. The girl would not take the warmed drink that would calm her stomach or one that would calm her mind.
"Why does he not want me?" Iona pleaded.
"Sometimes what a man needs and what a man thinks battles within him," Brenna explained. "Men away at sea for long lengths grow weak. They do not think."
"Kieren has no weaknesses and his mind is untainted."
"All men have weaknesses. Kieren is best at keeping his to himself."
Iona rose out of her seat.
"I'm going to him," she said through tears. "I'll show him my warmth and gratify him. I should have been wise like her. I should have come to him in the night. I should have been the one to please him."
"No." Brenna's grip on Iona's arm was solid. "Never reward a man for failing you."
"Can't you see," Iona cried out, "it is myself that I reward."
"Child," Brenna said, hugging her close, "you are the reward he must earn."
"I am nothing." Iona slumped into the arms of the woman she loved like a mother.
"If that was true, you would not be here. You would not be within the safety of all that is his."
"I am just a slave in his household."
"If you felt that to be true, you would have freed yourself long ago."
"I have nowhere to go."
"That is because you are where you belong. This is your home."
**************
Once again, no one had to tell Iona when Kieren left. She simply felt his absence. No one bothered her. Brenna sat with her for a while, but dared not speak. Shielded by her bedding, Iona faced the wall. The realization that she did not matter to him reopened old wounds. New blood flowed from them. She was sure that she would be emptied soon.
Kieren had delivered her to safety. She imagined more. She had always known that she did not qualify for him. It was time to settle with what she had been given. It was more than she had before—maybe more than she deserved. No happiness came without sacrifice. This she knew for sure. The part that belonged to Kieren must be sacrificed. She needed to cut it away. But there was no energy left to perform what was needed.
Iona sunk into a deep depression.
For several days Brenna brought Iona food and drink. Each time, she passed Russ. He held vigil outside of the girl's door.
"You must do something," he demanded in a hushed voice.
"What?"
In his concern for Iona, Brenna found Russ to be more irritating than the yowling of new born.
"She's been in there far too long. She doesn't eat. She doesn't sleep. I hear little movement."
"Stop hiding in pathways like an apparition and go to her yourself if you have answers," Brenna demanded. "I have none. You are the mighty Long Sword. You are the one Kieren has chosen to care for her. Then care for her. Reach out your sword and cure her from this sadness. You men cause it. It would be nice if you men cleaned up your own messes. The reality is sorry. You are incapable of taking care of yourselves on dry land. Why should you be expected to care for someone else? Do you not have someone to attack or raid? See yourself to it then. This is not one of your ships. This is my domain. You are of little help here."
Brenna shoved him out of her way and returned to her kitchen. The girl must grieve in her own way.
Russ felt like something needed to be done. Iona's time for mourning was over.
When the freezing water hit Iona's face, she immediately sat up in the bed with a squeal. She was wiping at her eyes when another pail of ice cold water washed over whatever the first drenching missed.
"Time to stop your kvetching and get your ass out of bed," Russ barked. "There are things to be done and you are not earning your keep."
"I hate you," Iona screamed.
"Now that's the delightful little brat I've come to love."
"I do," Iona said through gritted teeth.
"Of course you do," Russ teased. "All women do. That's why I consider it my utmost duty to take them on one by one, sometimes by twos. That way I can effectively place myself in their good graces. It is a hard task to undertake, but I am fully equipped to handle it."
"Don't you touch me."
"Believe me little flower when I tell you that your petals have an odor. The thought of reveling in them holds little interest to me. Get your ass up and bathe or I will do it for you. Put on some clothing or I will do that for you as well. I'd love to wash that infamous bottom of yours."
"As a matter of fact," he said as an afterthought, "I might just get in the bath with you."
Russ began removing some of his things. The curses that came out of Iona's mouth made him laugh.
"I'm offended," he told her, raising his foot to slip off a boot. "I have women begging to wash me all the time. I offer you the pleasure of my hands upon your wet body and you turn your nose in the air. You lack sense woman. I will help you gain a richer understanding of what clean is."
"Get out of my room," Iona shouted.
"Is that a no?" He stopped undressing.
"Yes."
"So it is a yes." Russ continued to remove his clothes.
By the time Brenna arrived a drenched Iona was held up in a corner with wet covers pulled to her. A bare chested Russ was undoing the front lace of his britches.
"Russ," Brenna exclaimed in shock.
"I am attempting to clean up a man's mess the only way I know how. As of yet, she does not appreciate my efforts; but, I shall give it the best of tries. I'm feeling quite lucky today."
Brenna pushed Russ out of the doorway and threw his things at him.
"Do you not grow tired of your boyhood games?"
"Have you no confidence in me Mistress Brenna?" Russ cried out in mock distress. "Feel free to watch if you doubt my competency. I have much to prove and lots to share."
"Brenna," Iona said with relief, "he is mad."
Brenna looked at the girl and placed her hands on her thick hips.
"So does that mean I'll be washing you little lady or do you think you can handle it yourself? Most likely your experience with me will not be as pleasing as one with Long Sword. My guarantee is that you will be spotless. And, I will not be getting in that tub with you."
"I can refresh you in ways you have never imagined," Russ shouted from the passageway. "I can bring profound peace to the mind as well."
"Shut up," both women shouted back.
***************
It was easy to tell when Russ took over the duty of guarding Iona. To be undetected was definitely not his goal, to Iona or anyone else. At first Iona was irritated. She soon found him incapable of taking offense. He simply ignored her complaints. He followed her around as she returned to her duties. He insisted on holding her things in the square as Iona fulfilled the requests of Brenna. Sometimes he just walked and talked beside her. Iona tried to ignore him. It had little effect. In within all of this, he managed to flirt with every woman that came near him. Iona had the funniest feeling that some purposefully followed him.
"Don't you have someone to comfort in their time of need?"
Russ looked around and dramatically bent his head in recognition to one of the women.
"Why do you think they follow?" He bit into the fruit he had continuously tossed in the air. "They have already been comforted. Does my voyeur not recognize them?"
Iona rolled her eyes.
"Perhaps I should comfort you. Then our roles would be reversed. I would lead and you would follow," Russ teased.
Iona sped up in an attempt to leave him behind.
"Your legs are too short for that little flower."
After a time, Iona enjoyed his teasing. He was quite the prankster. He played games with the children when they came to her for their words. Sometimes with him she felt like the child. He had a way about him that immediately made him familiar. Her mental walls just disappeared. She had almost forgotten how to truly laugh. With Russ it returned easily.
With his attentions, Astrid's followers increased. Russ purposefully agitated them at every opportunity. His hand at the small of Iona's back would cause whispers. He often slipped his arm around her shoulders and whispered one of his stories in her ear. If something was particularly good in the market he would feed it to her. When he caught her fingering finery, Russ purchased it for her.
It was he that broke the line of separation in the Longhouse. Brenna did not like her to eat in the kitchen and encouraged her to eat with the many that gathered. The men dominated the area, but a few women and children sprinkled the loud crowd. All ignored Iona. She chose a corner table. It became her permanent table.
"Watch that old bastard come," Russ scoffed, sitting down beside her with a pie in one hand and his plate in another. "No matter what the situation, Gunner cannot be outdone."
Just as predicted Gunner came and sat on the other side of her. There was no love lost between Gunner and Iona. She felt small and uncomfortable between the two men. They ate heartedly from their plates until there was no more. Then they began picking at Iona's plate randomly-as if she was not present. She slapped Gunner's hand and the room quieted.
Gunner paused before breaking into a rare laugh.
"I see you are still bold," he said.
Gunner then reached to dig into Russ' pie. Russ moved it out of his reach.
"The maker of that pie is most likely like Iona," Gunner said in seriousness. "She cannot cook."
"You shall never know the sweetness that a woman offers old man, in or out of the kitchen." Russ's voice was more serious than usual.
Iona became fearful. The men grew louder in their accusations and attracted the attention of many. If there was to be a brawl, Iona was in the wrong spot.
"Virgins may find your sword long," Gunner returned, "but I find it failing to reach a suitable length and usually limp when drawn. This would explain your uselessness in battle."
"That is because your eye sight has left you," Russ threw back at him. "You would be more effective in battle if your foul face was not constantly straining to see the perfection of mine.
"My eyes are as sharp as my sword and I carry the face of a real man. Unfortunately that is something a boy finds unfamiliar.
"As your age sharpens nothing but your tongue, my young eyes see the wholeness of your mind slipping away."
"There may be truth to those words. Be careful that I do not forget myself and slit your throat. My aim will always be perfect due to natural abilities, unlike your practiced failures."
And so it went between the two after eating their meals with Iona captured in the middle. It did not end until one grew heated and stormed away. Gunner was often the winner; his demeanor rarely changed. His expression was generally uninterested. Insults easily rolled off his tongue.
Sometimes they made Iona laugh with their challenges and sometimes they made her yearn for her loneliness.
***********************
Before the start of the day meal, Russ convinced Iona to free herself from her duties and escape with him. He knew that her duties were created to keep her busy.
"Why would I do that?" she teased. "I've been devising a plan to escape you."
Iona was bringing out filled jugs to sit on the tables.
"I bet you have," he laughed. "Only this time you have met your match. You lack the skill to escape me."
"I am a woman of many skills you have not yet experienced."
"I doubt that," he said removing a container from her hands. "Here is your opportunity to prove yourself, if you can."
Iona could never resist his challenges.
She laughed as she trailed behind him through the trees and towards the river. She knew that he moved at a slower pace to accommodate her. But by the time she reached their apparent destination, Iona had to catch her breath.
She stretched out on her back appreciating the sun and woolen blanket beneath her. Iona was certain that Russ had stolen the blanket from someone's bed.
Russ laid on his side and watched the sun light up Iona's face. He watched the rise and fall of her chest. He had long since noticed that she was well endowed, but just enough to cause a man to wonder how they would feel in his hands. He knew that her nipples were considerable than most when aroused—which happened often. He imagined them firm against his tongue. Russ was a man that truly appreciated the power of nicely formed breasts. He was often a victim to this power. He also wondered what crossed her mind when hers hardened and begged for attention. The cause was not always him.
She was something of a mystery to Russ. She could look so innocent at times and yet too knowing at others. Often times, he longed to kiss her full lips. They were made to be kissed. He deterred his thoughts now by touching the long twisted strands of her hair
"I would like for you to do this to my hair," he said while twisting one around his finger.
"It does not take well in your kind of hair," she replied without opening her eyes.
"My kind of hair," he declared fingering several. "Hair is hair."
"You have crossed seas and experienced many people of different natures. Truly you do not believe that? I have only experienced a few and realize that not to be true."
"I have," he agreed, "even of your shade. My explorations have taught me to not determine anything based on heredity, to do so is not wise. Besides, your hair still proves to be unique."
"I am unique," she smiled.
"That you are." Russ traced her lips with his index finger.
Iona quickly opened her eyes to find him smiling devilishly. She moved her head slowly to the side to escape his touch.
"I still wish for you to put your twists in my hair."
"Your hair is too thin." She closed her eyes once more.
"My hair is long, thick and much desired," he informed her playfully.
"And who has told you such?" she laughed "Could it possibly be some voluptuous woman with your head between her thighs?"
"Possibly," he laughed as well, "she would have the best view and opportunity to touch."
"You are so bad Long Sword," Iona teased.
"I am a man of many skills that you have not experienced yet."
"Do your own words fail you when your blood leaves your brain and fills your private parts" Iona replied. "Is that not the uncontrollable habit of men like you?"
The seriousness that suddenly crept in his voice caused Iona to look into his eyes.
"Men like me? I can assure you that I have no uncontrollable desires."
"Hmm...," Iona smiled. Finally she had discovered his weak spot. "I've often seen the loss of control in your eyes as your libido is set free."
"Oh you have no idea what my eyes hold. No woman would be able to stand, let alone walk if my libido was to run free."
Iona sensed that she may lose this battle of innuendos. He was much better at it than she.
Russ then smiled.
"Besides beautiful flower of mine, who has the bigger libido here? I do not withhold mine. I satisfy it. Isn't that much better than the forced containment of passion for passions sake? Does it not build up inside of you? Does it not threaten your judgement? I've seen the look in your eyes. Your thoughts are easily read, as is your body."
Iona's countenance fell. She was first embarrassed and then angry.
Russ stood and began to remove his clothes without any regard for her.
Was it an inbred fault that constantly caused both brothers to shed clothing with no consideration, Iona thought? His cock was at half-mast, perhaps readying itself for what Iona assumed his only form of entertainment. She was determined not to be his toy.
Russ made no motion toward her.
Standing where the earth met the water, Russ turned to look at the girl.
"Your turn," he said, walking backwards until the lowest section of his body was covered.
"I cannot be seduced by the clearness of those blue eyes," Iona finally said, trying to convince herself. "I'm afraid that I know the whore in you and your tricks. Unlike yours, my eyes do not lie with false virtue."
Russ roared with laughter.
"I shall make no mention of your worldliness and you shall make no mention of mine. Let's enjoy the day, the water and the company."
"I believe I will just sit here and witness your enjoyment Sir."
"What is there to fear Mistress Iona? Disrobe and join me in the water. It is cool and refreshing."
"I am cool and refreshed right where I sit."
"You fear me or you fear the water, which one is it?
"I fear nothing, which includes you," Iona hissed.
"Prove it."
"Your motives are quite transparent. I shall not be moved by your challenges." Iona laughed this time.
"You have nothing I have not seen before. You can attest to that." Russ began to float on his back. "My appetites do not include you."
Iona watched. She was unsure but thought she could see his cock rising out of the water.
"Hmm..." Russ continued to look at the sky. "Could it possibly be that it is yourself that you do not trust?"
"You have never been a threat to me." Iona snorted in disgust.
"It must be so. You watch me with interest and yet feign...what was that...yes, virtue."
"I feign nothing. If so, who are you to judge me?
"I do not judge," Russ returned while still looking at the sky. "Your words and actions reveal much."
"Words and especially my actions prove nothing but self-respect."
"Then let us debate no more. You must remove your clothing and enjoy the water—with your self-respect in hand."
"I see no need to remove my clothing to enjoy the water." Iona rose to her feet.
Russ laughed.
"You cannot swim in that attire. You would sink to the bottom."
Iona considered his words carefully. Then she began to disrobe.
The water was cooler than what she had thought and her descent was slow as she adjusted. When she looked up, Russ was upright and staring at her with those blue eyes. His face revealed no humor. As he moved closer, Iona thought of going back to her clothes and ending this madness. The water was only to her knees. She could move swiftly, grabbing her clothes before he reached her—but she did not.
"You are truly beautiful," Russ said in earnest. "I see now what has perplexed my brother so. I would find you irresistible too."
Iona covered her breasts and turned her back to him. She was beyond nervousness, she was scared.
Russ stood behind her for just a moment before the meeting of their bodies. He was warm against her skin. She was soft and stirring against his.
"You have nothing to fear." His voice was low and assuring. "Neither I or the waters will harm you."
"I fear nothing."
He placed his hands on the curve of her shoulders and fought the desire to cup her breasts and pull her closer.
"Maybe that is why you shiver beneath my touch."
"The water is cold; that is the cause."
"I can teach you to swim," he whispered in her hair, just above her ear.
"How is it that you know I cannot swim?"
"Must I repeat myself?" he continued to whisper. "I am a man of many talents."
Russ loved the smell of her dark hair. He was the one to choose the perfumed oil that Kieren had gifted her. He was the one that made sure that more was placed in her room.
"Does that include reading minds?"
"Possibly"
Iona felt something stirring inside of her.
"Turn to me."
For just a moment, she felt a pull in his voice that only Kieren triggered. It left her unable to deny him.
Iona turned slowly.
Russ took her hands. He pulled her gently forward. As the water began to rise, he could see the distress in her brown eyes.
"I have you," he assured.
When the water covered the tops of her breasts, he cupped one side of her face. The other arm wrapped around her body.
"Wrap your legs around me," he commanded as he raised her and pressed her against his body.
Iona obeyed while also wrapping her arms around him tightly. She rested her head at the crook of his neck
Russ moved further into the water with both arms wrapped securely around her.
"Never trust the water, but show it love as well," he warned.
"You are like water," Iona spoke without thinking; then she immediately regretted her words.
She had felt his cock hard against her before wrapping her legs around him. If she dared loosen her hold, she could possibly feel it between her legs or possibly feel it inside of her.
Iona realized that the water was too deep for her to stand safely now. She also realized that she was in a compromising position.
"Maybe you are right," pulling his head back a little.
Iona pulled back a little as well. They looked into each other's eyes.
"Can you trust me?" Russ whispered against her lips.
"I think not."
Iona placed her lips on his. The motion was natural.
With that, Russ cupped the back of her head with his hand and pressed her lips into his as his tongue discovered her sweetness.
His next movements were smooth. Iona hardly noticed, with her tongue hungrily discovering his sweetness. Russ laid her gently on the blanket. Her legs were still splayed open as he slid his hand down her body and between her legs. He dipped his finger into her wetness and smoothed what he found there across her firm nub.
Iona moaned.
When he knew that he had hit that spot, Russ began to manipulate her with expertise. He could feel her body's reaction. When Iona began to move herself into his hand, Russ knew that he had her. Her moans became desperate.
He squeezed her breasts. It was he that moaned with pleasure this time; it was all he could manage as their fullness fulfilled every fantasy. He could not stop at this point if he wanted to, and he did not.
He sucked on her hard and tight nipple, flicking them with the tip of his tongue as he did. He nipped at them with his teeth—careful not to show any favoritism between the two. Their darkness both amazed him and made him hunger for more. Not just the contrast of her skin against his, but the contrast between her skin and the dark circular areolas fascinated him. Her nipples were even darker. He drew from them. She was a delectable desert he had been denying himself and now surrendered to its call. Her body immediately replied to every lick, every pull, and every nip.
Then he moved down her body with his tongue. That same tongue parted her pussy's lips as his fingers parted her outer lips. The pinkness of her pussy was mind-altering. He dug deep inside her and then drew the flat of his tongue up her wet path to the head of her sensitive nub. Her taste was intoxicating. He moaned once more as he indulged himself several times. The last time came with its own reward. He sucked that sensitive nub between his lips and flicked it. He continued by starting at the base and dragging his lips upward as his tongue dance.
The direct stimulation was more than she could bear. Iona's moans were accompanied with a shortness of breath. Never before had she felt so sexually overwhelmed. This feeling was new and altered any envisaged thoughts of what it was to be truly pleased. Her entire body felt unable to be contained by her skin. Even after the first detonation, Russ continued his attack. She pulled at his hair but he was relentless. Her clit was too sensitive at this point. The finally was a climax that shattered her body into a million iridescent pieces. It hit her harder than the first. She pulled tightly on his hair. Arching her back, she cried out.
"Oh...Kieren."
Russ froze.
Iona did not notice; she was so lost in what she felt. Her descent from the heavens gradually receded.
They never touched the Skyr (a buttery cheese), griddled bread and shelled walnuts in the basket Russ had commandeered.
Iona's legs felt weak and unstable as they walked back to the village in silence. Long Sword claimed that he had duties he must attend to.
To be continued...
|
~!~
He was waking up alone again and for the life of him, Storm Monsello couldn't understand why it was still bothering him. Since Sally's quiet, unannounced departure Monday morning he had been unable to shake the feeling of being used. It was an alien feeling since he much preferred women who weren't clingy. The rules he and Brad had acquired, developed and perfected over the years, never accounted for such emotions. But now here he was
used and he didn't know if a girl leaving of her own accord should conjured such sentiments. As Storm thought about Sally, he could help but think about their night together. His instincts were right, Sally was a virgin and he now selfishly wanted to be the only recipient of un-orchestrated touches and actions. He wanted to be her only instructor.
Finally getting out of bed, he made his way to the shower. The water stung his shoulders where she had embedded her nails for an orgasm that had intensified his a hundred times more. Storm smiled when he remembered how her body responded to his touch, how it felt to see and feel her experience her first two orgasms. His cock had reached heaven and waking up to her next day had felt simply perfect. He took extra care getting dress, planning how he was going to surprise her for lunch. Tying his navy blue silk tie against his light blue shirt, Storm once again thought back to how deeply he had slept were he didn't hear her leave. It still left him in awe since he was normally a light sleeper.
~!~
Officer Eastman walked among the bikes in the parking area, searching for Sally's but it wasn't there. According the stripper, this was the school Sally attended and the bike was the only mode of transportation he had ever seen her use. But both since she left the club, no one had seen or spoken with her. Also, the number Roger had for her had been disconnect month prior. Feeling angry and frustrated, Office Eastman got in his car and left, not wanting to arouse the suspicions of the officers stationed on campus. He was so occupied with his thoughts that he didn't see Storm driving into the school.
~!~
Waiting by the stop sign to turn into the visitors' parking lot, Storm didn't expect to see Sally walking toward the bus stop. Having gotten her schedule from Kevin, he was going to wait by her class room until she left, but as he waited for a car to pass, he saw her turn and greeted a guy with a hug and kiss. A fierce jealousy ignited in him that he had to forcefully stamp down. He wanted no other man touching her. Turning, he looked into his rearview mirror to see her hug and kiss the guy again as they both went their separate ways.
He turned the car around when he saw her sit at the bus stop and pulled alongside. "Good morning." He could tell she was surprised to see him but still replied in kind. "Do you mind if we talked for bit?"
"No, I can't right now."
"Where's your bike?"
"In the shop...you're in the bus area. You need to move before the bus gets here."
"I'll take you where you need to go. Come on."
"No thank you. The bus should be here in less than five minutes. Have a nice day."
Storm got out of the car. "Sally, I would really like to speak with you. Please get in the car," he asked nicely. Picking up her backpack which was beside her on the bench, he opened the car door and waited for her to move.
"You can say what you have to say right here."
"As you pointed out the bus will be here shortly and what I have to say will take longer than five minutes. Come on."
They were driving in silence for a few minutes before Storm asked, "What exam did you have today?"
"Microbiology."
"How was it?"
"Why are you here?"
"I wanted to see you."
"Why? Don't you work?"
Storm laughed, "Yes, I do. I had to see a client about five minutes away from here and I wanted to see you. Would you like to have lunch?"
Sally turned and looked at him squarely. "Lunch? Are you kidding? And you want me to believe that you had a client to see that's close by here? My school? Come on...really?"
"Sally I did have a client to see that is less than five minutes away from here. Could I have pushed off doing the interview today? Yes, but she wanted it done as soon as possible and I thought lunch would be a great idea. Why are you being so defensive?"
Sally looked out her window. Suddenly the car turned off the road and into the back parking lot of a Seven-Eleven.
"Where are we going?"
"Lunch if you would say yes."
"No. I'm busy. I told you that already. What do you want?"
Storm parked the car and turned to her. "Why did you leave the other morning without letting me know? It was rather rude..."
"You came to find out why I left? I had to get to school as you well know. Don't tell me, something came up missing and I'm the main suspect."
"What?" Storm smiled thinking she was joking. "Nothing went missing but you should have told me you were leaving."
"Why?" When Storm didn't answer immediately she continued, "Why should I have told you I was leaving? What great insight would you have gained with that information?"
"Well I think it was rather rude after the weekend we had..."
Sally laughed. "This is such bullshit." She looked out the window before turning to address him directly. "You are so full of shit. How many women have you left without a backward glance? How many of them? Can you remember? I left because I had to get to class. I had an exam but even though you know the answer, it's not good enough because you didn't get to kick me out. I left of my own accord and that pisses you off." She looked away again out the window.
"I'm not pissed that you left for school..."
She turned to face him again. "Bullshit...you are. What did you want me to do, beg you to let me stay? I'm not your skinny ass ex who's claiming you to the world. I'm not going to sit by the door pinning after you like some childish school girl. We had sex. It was a mistake. It's done..."
"A mistake? Making love was a mistake to you?"
"YES! Yes it was a mistake and I will live with it. Now leave me alone."
Sally grabbed her bag and slammed the door as she left. Storm sat looking at her for all of five seconds before he got out just as angry. Reaching her, he grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him.
"What do you want? Leave me alone. Go back to your..."
"SHUT UP!" he yelled and repeated when she tried to speak again. "SHUT UP!" He was pissed. "What happened between us was not a mistake. It wasn't. I know for a fact that that was the first time you had orgasms like the ones I gave you. If I wanted Audrey, I would be with her not standing here listening to this crap coming out of your mouth. And if I thought you were one of those girls who pinned after a man, I wouldn't be here either. You want to talk about bullshit? Let's talk about yours. I came here to take you out to lunch. To talk, to get to know you better but you've got that stick so far up your ass that you can't get past the fact that you want that
to happen again but don't know how to ask for it."
They both stared at each other breathing hard. There was nothing else but so much more to say. He saw the fear in her eyes...and the loneliness. He wanted to pull her in his arms and kiss her until all the anger she felt left and all that remained was the soft, plaint woman he'd made love to on Saturday night. He watched as she turned and walked away.
~!~
Her bike wasn't ready and now she was both angry and sad. She wanted to ride, needed the freedom her bike would give her to clear her head. At that moment, it was her one wish, to have a clear head especially about Storm. She was now one of those girls...the ones who sat around day dreaming about a guy as if he was the miracle to all of life ailments, the unattainable fantasy. She didn't have time to entertain fantasies. She had planned her life out to precision and deviations could not be entertained. Storm Monsello was just that, a deviation. A tall, drop dead gorgeous, divinely made, blue eyed, black hair, not a flaw on his body, knows how to kiss, and how to bring a woman's body alive deviation.
The tenderness between her legs had eased, replaced by wanting. Masturbating was never something she had indulged in before but since Storm, she found herself trying to ease the needful want more often. He was right she had never had orgasms like the ones he gave her because she had never been with anyone before. She had tried but the guy wasn't very experienced. Storm was her first and she was terrified. She wanted to kiss him so badly and if he had wanted to, she would have gone back to his place and made love to him. During class and even in her exam, she found herself touching her lips as if she could still feel his against hers.
Their make out session on Sunday had left them both wanting but as much as they wanted to, Storm decided forego sex stating that he knew she was tender. How did he know that? Was he that experienced? How many women had he been with? Maybe it was because making love to her was a horrible experience for him.
her conscience voiced. She was so confused. How could he have read her so easily to know that she wanted to make love to him again?
Sally got her bag and left her apartment. After eating dinner she walked along the beach since she didn't feel like going home. Sitting on a bench looking out at the ocean, she thought about how the next few months of her life had to unfold. She was so close and nothing was going to stop her from her goal. Contact with Storm had to end. None of the feelings he invoked could be allowed to take root or they could deviate her from her path. But if she was going to be truly honest with herself, she would have to admit that the scariest thing about being was Storm wasn't just the need he produced, it was how safe he made her feel. Sleeping in his arms had been one of the most peacefully night's rests she had had in years and safety she knew didn't exist.
~!~
"Mr. Monsello, was there anything else I could get for you?" the young housekeeper asked in a surly voice.
"No," Storm replied as he took another sip of his coffee and continued looking out the sliding glass door.
"Would you like me to make you breakfast?"
"No thank you. You may leave now," he replied again without looking back.
"Are you sure? I..."
He looked back. "I'm sure. Go."
She was upset but he didn't care. He wasn't sleeping with the help no matter how little clothes she wore. While he wasn't fussy or cared if the household staff that came to his house wore a uniform, they were to be at least modestly covered. He would have to tell his assistant to get him someone else.
he thought as his mind drifted back to her again.
Sally was extremely independent...maybe too much so. He turned to look at the door when he heard it close and his mind began to replay his fantasy of Sally standing there to welcome him home. When had he become fanciful? He was never one to daydream, at least not about a woman; cars and bikes yes, but not women or at least not about one woman in particular. But here he was, fully dressed hours ahead of time for him to be at the office and he couldn't stop remembering how she moved beneath him, what her hands felt like on his skin, how soft and sweet her skin felt and tasted. He remembered the look in her eyes as her body built to its ultimate peak and the tremors that shook her when she climaxed. He wanted to do that to her again and again. He wanted to feel that calm happiness with her again afterwards.
But she was right, he had never cared for any of the women he'd left behind after the night's romp was over. His ringing phone broke him out of his trance and after seeing who was calling, he pressed 'ignore'. Shelly was a fellow lawyer and they also enjoyed the benefits side of their relationship, and while he knew she never called this early unless it was about a case, he couldn't seem to focus on anything else but a flawless, walnut coloured, silky skinned, curvaceous beauty who had the most beautiful clear brown eyes, the softest lips, and curly satin black hair.
~!~
[Greg] - Hey how were exams
[Sally] - They were ok...yours?
[Greg] - Alright...want to go out and celebrate this Friday night?
[Sally] - Let me see if I can get off work. Will let you know soon
[Greg] -Cool...chil
Sally immediately dialed Jack and requested Friday night off. One of the new changes she had made was to get out more. So far it proved to be the only remedy against thinking about Storm which had dropped considerably but had not been completely eliminated. Rhonda finally confessed that she no longer worked for Storm and in some way, she was happy.
The aching need she also felt had ebbed but did come back with a vengeance one night when Storm and his friends had showed up at the bar. They left before seeing her but one look at him had made her body go back into the extreme need and she found herself trying to find release a few times that night and over the next few days. She took long bike rides where she pushed herself to go faster and faster all trying to escape what she was feeling. She must have picked up her phone, ready to hit the call button about fifty or so times since the day of their argument but didn't. How could she tell him that he was right? That she wanted to feel him again, that she was afraid of being discarded like yesterday's newspaper? How could she tell him that feeling safe was the most terrifying feeling in the world to her and that's how he made her feel.
~!~
Sally's back was to Greg's front as they danced. Her swaying hips and arms didn't go unnoticed by Grey and a few other patrons of the club. The music was loud and the crowd was a mixture of college students and professionals. She was having a good time which was surprising even for her. Greg had gotten them both a drink which he had finished but not Sally. Before coming to the club, they had gone for dinner. The conversation was kept light. They mostly spoke about colleges and universities, and plans on furthering their respective professions.
They were taking a break and standing at the bar speaking with the bartender, a friend of Greg's when Sally thought she heard her name. Looking around and not recognizing anyone, she dismissed it but heard her name again after a few more minutes. Looking around, she came face to face with Ayasha.
"Hey, what's up?" Ayasha said pulling Sally into a hug.
"Hi..." Sally replied not sure what to do.
"I'm having some much needed party time with my fiancé and some close friends. What are you doing here?"
"I'm celebrating the end of exams with one of my lab partners. Greg," Sally turned to him, "this is Ayasha, an acquaintance. Ayasha, this is Greg one of my lab partners."
Both Greg and Ayasha shook hands.
"You both have to join us. We're having such a wonderful time," Ayasha invited.
"Yes, you are," said one of the women with Ayasha.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Sally these are friends of mine. Ladies introduce yourselves, I can't see you all."
The women laughed and introduced themselves to Sally and Greg.
"Thank you but we're heading out soon," Sally declined.
"Okay then but I'm having a party in about two weeks and I'm inviting you," Ayasha said taking a sip of her drink.
"Thank you but no..." Sally tried to decline.
Shaking her head from side to side, Ayasha refused to accept Sally's answer. "You're coming even if I have to stalk you. I want you there."
"Ayasha, thank you but I can't. I'm sorry."
"Sally, may I speak with you in private please?"
Sally looked at everyone including Greg hoping he would say something but he didn't and she reluctantly went with Ayasha.
"Ayasha, thank you for inviting me..."
"What's the real reason? Does this have to do with my brother?"
Sally looked down before looking back up at Ayasha quickly, "No. Why would you think that?"
"Did something happen between the two of you? Did you two get in an argument?"
"No, I was working for you both..."
"No you were working for my brother. Sally, I like you. I think you're a nice person and I am inviting you to my party, not my brother, me. It's going to be very nice, very elegant and you'll have fun. I promise you. Please think about it, okay?"
Realizing that Ayasha was not going to take 'no' for her final answer, Sally nodded.
"Good," Ayasha squealed and hugged her. Sally couldn't help her smile. "By the way, I don't invite acquaintances to my parties, only friends."
"Okay...okay."
~!~
Storm pushed her further into the pillow trying to muffle the noise the girl was making. She screamed again telling him to go faster, she was cuming and he wanted her to do so and now. He reached under and roughly fingered her clit bringing her to orgasm easily. He pulled out immediately and took off the used, empty condom and pulled up his pants.
"Baby that was great...wait where are you going?"
"Home," was his dry, terse reply.
"Wait, I'll come with you."
"No."
He grabbed his jacket and walked away.
"I'll call you..."
"No don't."
"Asshole!"
It has been like this with the last five girls he'd been with. Sometimes he was able to finish and other times he wanted to leave as soon as he began. This was one of those times. He wanted to get away from this one as fast as possible. Getting home in record time, he went immediately for the shower. Once again his mind went to the one female that seemed to have him in this permanent state of unsatisfied arousal.
He grabbed his cock and began to massage it, trying to put the right amount of pressure to simulate what it felt like being inside her. He closed his eyes and saw her half closed eyes and remember the feel of her tight walls which seemed to flow over every ridge of his hard cock like liquid silk, conforming to it perfectly. He remembered her taunt face and how he told her to breathe to release her orgasm, and the clamp of her pussy holding on to him as she came, making him cum also. Storm rested his head on shower walls breathing heavy as the water sprayed down on his head and back and his ejaculate ran down the drain. It had been like this almost every day since the day of the argument with Sally. His only true release was by his hands replaying the first and only time they had been together like a broken recorder in his head. Even when he was with the other women, he thought of her to finish. He didn't want to go out tonight but Ayasha would kill him if he stood her up again.
~!~
Storm read the text message from Mike as he entered the club. Standing on the second floor entry, he looked for the easiest way to Ayasha's party with the least congestion. There were a good amount of patrons there tonight including the gathering Ayasha and Collin decided to have with their friends. As he descended the stairs, he scanned the people only to have his eyes land on the object of his obsession. It seemed as if she was walking to him until he noticed the guy holding her hand. They stopped to speak with someone and the guy pulled her in front of him and wrapped his arms around her. She glanced back at him smiling and laughing.
Her smile was beautiful and she looked happy. They began to move again and she passed him unseen. Doing nothing to alert her to his presence, he followed them outside. They were waiting for the valet when the guy pulled her to him and kissed her. Storm's hands balled into a fist and his eyes burned blue fire into them both.
~!~
Office Eastman couldn't believe his luck. Right here almost in front of him was the object of his obsession. He was about to get out of the car when he looked up and saw the ADA that pulled him over that night standing outside the door looking for someone...or was it her? Did he know her? Now he had to be extra careful. Eastman remained in the car and watched as the guy and Sally kissed. He grabbed the steering wheel tight.
he thought. How many times did he try to be nice to her and she rebuffed him as if he was nothing but here she was kissing this guy like a slut.
~!~
Storm sat beside Mike and ordered a beer for himself. The pretty waitress came back and smiled nicely to him as she bent to give him both the beer and a very good view of her ample bosom. Storm took the beer and smiled. He was going to need several of those tonight.
"Hey man, are you okay?" Mike asked.
"Yeah, what's up?"
"Nothing much, you seem out of it. Something on your mind?"
"Nope," Storm replied and looked away signaling the waitress to bring him another beer. He practically drank the first one in two gulps.
"So what took you so long getting here?"
"Was trying to finish up something...didn't work out."
"Another woman you had to cut loose?"
"Something like that. Hey what are the women here like tonight?"
"A few good ones. Gonna try your luck?"
"I may," Storm replied taking the beer. He winked at the waitress gave her one of his movie star smiles. She smiled and winked back at him.
He was on this third beer when Mike noticed how fast he was drinking. "Hey man you may want to take it easy on those. I don't want to drive you home tonight. I'm trying to get lucky."
"You won't have to do that. I won't interrupt your game."
"You may not want to but I'm not going to let you drive if you can't. I can get random pussy anytime."
"Hey guys what's up?" Ayasha said coming to sit between them.
"Hey beautiful, you're having a great time tonight."
"Yes, I am."
"I'll be back," Storm said to them both as he left with the waitress.
Sighing Mike looked away. "What's going on with him?" Ayasha asked.
"Not sure hun but he's not in a good place tonight."
"How many beers has he had?"
"Too many if you ask me. He doesn't normally down three in a row but something's eating at him and he won't talk about it." Sighing, Mike finished his beer. "I'll go talk with him."
"No, I'll do it. I want you to stay and have some fun. I'll be right back."
"Yes ma'am. Let me know if you need any help."
"I will."
"Hey where are you going? What's going on with Storm? He seems distracted," Collin said pulling Ayasha into his arms.
She kissed him, "Don't know but I'm going to go check on him. I'll be right back."
"Want me to come with?"
"No...I'll be fine. Be right back."
"Okay," he kissed her again.
~!~
He was trying to build up the desire to kiss the girl on the lips but couldn't. He kissed her neck and tasted sweat, cigarettes and stale liquor mixed with cheap perfume. The combination made him want to gag. He wanted to feel soft silken skin. He wanted to explore why
skin was so soft. Why did it smell like a perfect day outside; crisp, clean, bright? Why did he want to feel her arch into him as he took her nipple into his mouth instead of the breast being forced on him? He pulled back from the girl but she kept coming at him, kissing his neck and making those fake moaning sounds. He put his hands on her arms to push her away slightly. He needed to breathe and as much as they were outside on the balcony, he felt stifled.
"Hey Storm, what are you doing out here?" Ayasha asked.
The girl looked at Ayasha with venom in her eyes but Storm was happy for the distraction even thought he was unable to smile.
"Just getting some air. Did you need something?"
"Leave," Ayasha ordered the girl clinging on to Storm's arm.
"Who do you..."
"Leave us. I need to speak with my sister," Storm ordered.
Feeling affronted, the girl left realizing these two were used to giving orders and they were obeyed. It didn't stop her from giving Ayasha a nasty cut of her eye when she passed by but Ayasha laughed thinking she was silly.
"What's going on?" Ayasha asked moving to stand by Storm who was leaning against the rail looking out at the road and vehicles passing by.
"Nothing...is everything okay with you?"
"Yeah, fine. I'm having fun. I just wished you would also."
Storm sighed and looked over at Ayasha, "I am having fun. I just have case on my mind."
Ayasha knew when her brother was lying and he was now. He hardly ever worried about a case. After a few moments of silence, she spoke again. "Guess who I saw here tonight?" At the shug of his shoulders, she continued, "Sally." Storm visibly tensed. His fingers balled themselves into a fist before he released them just as quickly but not soon enough that Ayasha missed it. "I invited her to my party but she said she would think about it. Do you have her address so I can send her a formal invitation?"
"No."
"Okay then do you mind taking one to..."
He stood up straight and looked at Ayasha before looking back at the cars. "If she wants to attend, she'll do so but I'm not going to ask her for you."
"Storm I don't need you to ask her for me. In case you forgot to listen, I asked her already. My only problem is if she wants to come, she doesn't have the address and I forgot to get her number so I could text it to her. Can you give me her number?"
"I don't have it on me," he lied. "I'll find it and get it to you."
"Or you can just give her my address. Either way, I want her to have the option."
"I'll see what I can do."
But as Storm stared out into the night he wondered what Sally was doing at that very moment. Was the guy kissing her goodnight? Was he making love to her right now? Was she arching into his kisses the way she did his? Every thought, the memory of she and the guy kissing was like someone taking a knife to his insides and chopping them up in little pieces. He wanted to stop thinking about her. He wanted to touch her again.
~!~
"Hey man I'm sorry the bar is closed," Richie the bartender said to Storm as he leaned against the railing at the top of the stairs.
It was a week after he'd seen her at the club and he was there to give Sally Ayasha's address. For some reason he didn't want Ayasha to know that something had happened between him and Sally, which was completely different since he didn't care one way or another if she knew about any of the women he'd slept with in the past. So here he was after being properly yelled at by Ayasha, giving Sally the address to his Aunt's home where Ayasha would be hosting her party. The one where only Sally MacDonald dared to tell Ayasha Monsello who was spoilt and used to getting her way, 'no' at attending.
"Yes, I know. I..."
"Oh, hello there young man," Jack said coming over to greet Storm.
"Hello Jack. Nice to see you again," Storm said meeting Jack half way.
"I didn't see you here tonight. Did you leave something again?"
Storm laughed, his eyes landing on Sally who had moved to a far off table. "No, not this time. I came to see Sally." He looked from Jack to Sally then back to Jack again.
"I'm busy," Sally said when Jack looked at her and they both watched as she turned her back and began clearing another table.
"It will only take a few minutes," Storm said to Jack. Hoping he wouldn't mind but not caring if he did.
"Sure, take all the time you need," Jack said before turning to Sally who had stopped to look at Jack upon hearing that.
"Sally that can wait."
Storm realized he had an advocate in Jack and decided to test his support. He addressed Jack with one of his more disarming smiles, "My sister is having a big party next Saturday and she invited Sally."
"That's wonderful," Jack said turning to look at Sally.
"Yes it is but Sally says she has to work and I'm here to give her the address incase she's able to get the night off." Storm paused for the dramatic effect and it worked, Jack looked back at Sally again who was beginning to turn a different color if the limited lighting could be trusted. "It's a big deal when my sister throws these parties. She's over the moon and she invites everyone and I must say they are lots of fun."
"Sally, why didn't you tell me you needed the night off? You know I would have given it to you," Jack said.
Sally who stood there looking at Storm wide eyed, wondered how no one else could see the fangs, snake like tongue and horns of the demon standing in their mist. He made it all seem so innocent, as if she was being difficult. "I was scheduled for work and I didn't have enough time to request the time off."
"Oh? She told you about it more than a week ago and the party isn't until this coming Saturday," Storm said relishing backing her into a corner. He was almost certain he had Jack on his side and now he wanted her at that party.
"That's enough time for me rearranged the schedule and if I'm short staffed so what? It's only one night," Jack said addressing her concerns.
Sally looked at Storm and through clenched teeth replied, "I had school, I forgot."
"Well that's fine. You need to get out more and I think this party would be wonderful for you," Jack said to her then turned to addressed Storm, "Does she have to get dressed up?"
Storm laughed, he'd won. "Yes, the party is evening attire, no jeans and t-shirts."
"I don't have anything to wear," Sally said hoping she had just gotten out of going.
"Sally, we can go shopping tomorrow if you like. I know some great stores we can check out," Anna one of the waitress offered.
Sally knew better than to take her up on that offer. Anna had gushed over Storm the last time he and his friends were there and Sally had not missed the narrowing of Anna's eyes when she heard Storm say the invitation was from Ayasha. If Anna hoped to snag a tag-a-long invitation she was wishing in vein.
"Sorry but I can't. I have a planned study group at the library tomorrow. I'll do it sometime this week furthermore, I'm horrible at shopping and I won't torture you like that." To Storm she said, "I'll see what I can do and I'll let you know."
"Well I would have to know now since it is a catered party and all. She likes to know how many people will be on her guest list." Storm hoped and prayed she didn't say two because then he would just have to kill the guy
she was bringing.
"Fine."
"I'll let her know," and it took everything inside of him not to kiss her. He turned to Jack, "Thank you for giving her the night off. I will let my sister know how much it disrupted your business."
"Nonsense! Sally needs to go out more. No one should work every Friday and Saturday night."
Storm laughed, "I agree. Well then good night," and then he turned to the bar and bade the rest of employees' good night also.
She was hiding her finances. That's what his gut instincts told him as he sat in his car waiting for her to leave. She'd turned down the girl's offer of assistance and he could only surmise she didn't want anyone to know about the close to $70,000 she had tucked away in an account and the almost $2000 in her checking account. She also owed nothing on her one credit card that had a $7000 limit. Her credit was perfect but it seems she was deliberately staying off the radar.
He also couldn't get over how she tried to decline the invite again. She consciously didn't ask for the day off and if Ayasha had not insisted and annoyed him this week to get give her the address, she would have gotten away with it. She also didn't ask him for the address which only meant she was planning on using that as a way out of the attending, but he knew how to get around that. More and more he wanted to know why Sally was determined to remain a recluse. It was more than the cop stalking her. She had enough money in the bank to leave so why wouldn't she just go? He didn't want her to but his gut wouldn't let go that there was more than what everyone was seeing. She was hiding and it wasn't because she was shy.
He gave her enough time to think she'd won but not too little time to find an outfit. On the Thursday, he sent her a text telling her the venue for the party changed last minute and she was to come to his house instead. She replied asking him for the time to show up.
~!~
|
The tension between Russ and Iona was subtle and hardly detectable by others. To dwell on what had occurred was advantageous to no one. Of course, there was nothing that escaped the eyes of Brenna. She saw the looks and noticed the new formality between the two. The first moment of opportunity found Brenna scolding Long Sword.
"I hope that you are satisfied with your betrayal, to both Iona and to the brother you love. Must you complicate matters further?" Brenna said to him.
"I need no comment from you to define my errors," Long Sword replied, turning his back to her. "Kieren may seek your advice; I need none from you."
"Your actions prove differently and..."
He had spun around as soon as the words left her lips.
"Then do not concern yourself with my actions."
The look in his blue eyes was cold, but it did not hide pain.
Brenna placed one hand on the man's forearm. "Your disrespect disheartens me Russ."
Russ looked down at the old warn hand and then into the woman's eyes.
"That is and has always been a choice that is yours to make."
Brenna flinched. Within the hollows of her heart, she felt concern for this man on the cusp of greatness. His words cut deep. His knife was sharp.
Iona had no knowledge of what she had said in the height of her gratification. However, guilt did lay its claim. But, the one she pined for had no use for her. She belonged to no one and owed no man her loyalty. Russ had given her something she had never known. For the first time, Iona had experienced a man whose goal was to please. His pleasure came from giving her pleasure. Her body had never felt so alive. That in itself was a gift.
Russ continued to attend to her, but he was careful never to be completely alone with her or too intimate. He vowed to never let what happened between them happen again. He knew now that Iona could never truly belong to another. Her inner self, the one that laughs at both the mind and body belonged to Kieren. He had only touched her body and teased her mind, but he would never have her heart. She truly was in love with his brother.
Too, Russ felt that he had done no wrong and the result of his actions hurt no one but himself. The relationship he shared with his brother could not easily be put into words. It encompassed every corner of his life. Resentment could never spread root between them. Iona's reaction only fed his devotion to Kieren and assured Russ of what he had discerned long ago. His brother was a man unrivaled.
One day Iona was left to entertain herself. There were things that often required Russ' attention in Kieren's absence—more so now. He never discussed them with her. Iona was more than aware that men often shared things with one another that were not suitable for the ears of women. Some things were better left unsaid and unseen.
Still, on those days he was missed and Iona was left to her own boredom.
She knew that a guardian for her was somewhere. Russ still refused to leave her completely alone. He simply chose his replacements well. A frustrated Iona could never pick them from the crowd.
After completing her chores, she wandered around the market. Changes in the weather brought changes all around her. As her feelings of freedom expanded, she grew increasingly curious.
The warmer weather brought an influx of new and interesting faces. The village was a center of trade. Everything was available. Iona liked to walk around and discover. Beautiful yards of colored cloth and glittering baubles interested her most. She loved the way they showed against her golden skin.
However, her search ran deeper than just vanity. She hoped to one day find the cloth that her life was exchanged for. She would never forget the shade of it or the sheen of its surface. A promise had been made. If there was a way to purchase such cloth, she would. Iona knew that it would only be a symbol; but, she would have all of it and not just a portion. Iona would rub it across her cheek to feel its fine quality. She would smell the colorings. She would remember. Then, with great satisfaction, Iona would watch it burn. The scent of its destruction would fill her nostrils. Just like the rising smoke, Iona's hurt would float away. She would forget. She would truly be free. She would become a master of self.
At least, that is what she hoped for.
Along the perimeter of the market was an unusual stand. The market was ruthless when it came to unspoken assigned territory. This stand was obviously unwelcomed. They had not completely packed up, most likely hoping to attract customers as the others closed. Russ usually paid for her purchases in the market square. Iona had never thought of obtaining her own currency or creating crafts to trade. Sometimes she accompanied Brenna. Brenna had no time for what she found unnecessary. Gunner was impossible to shop with. To him, the glistening of tempered steel was the only beauty to be found in this world.
The owner of the stand was immediately happy to receive her and smiled as she fingered some items. To be given kindness from a merchant that was unfamiliar with her situation was a rarity. Generally they were drenched in their superstitions. Some thought her to be dishonest and without the means to purchase. Others believed her to be the sign of bad luck. But this graying old man let her look freely and turned away from his packing to show her special items.
Suddenly from behind the thick cloth that acted as a backdrop for the stand, a man emerged. Iona dropped what was in her hands.
This man was as tall as Kieren but not as muscular. His clothing was unusually draped across him. Kieren chose to be close shaven; this man wore no hair at all. The sun reflected off the curve of his bare head. He wore markings on his face and he was the deepest shade of darkness Iona had ever seen.
The sight of him made her catch her breath and bring her hand to her chest. She had run into two or three that could possibly be of her kind. Each had been so unique that she felt no connection. Iona was pale compared to this man and found his darkness remarkable.
He bent low in recognition and smiled as he rose. His teeth were blinding against the darkness of his skin. He then moved towards Iona.
Wrong move.
He almost stepped into the tip of Long Sword's blade, the point of which stood at the dark one's throat and was more than ready to fulfill its purpose. The two men stood eye to eye, with Iona safely placed behind Long Sword.
Long Sword was smooth and swift with his movements; Iona had barely blinked an eye and found herself facing Long Sword's broad back.
"Careful Moor..." Long Sword said in a voice so threatening it made Iona shiver.
Iona placed her hand against his back to keep her balance. Long Sword was perfectly still, his body tight and ready to spring. If his expression was anything like the sound of his voice, the man of darkness had much to fear.
"Your value means nothing to me Blåmenn. To kill you would require little effort and give me great satisfaction."
"He is mine," the shop keeper nervously intervened. "He means no harm to the girl. He is gentle of nature and merely curious."
"Must I repeat myself to you peddler?" Long Sword challenged, revealing a dagger in his other hand. "Your value means little to me as well. On this day you too could easily lose your life."
Gazing at Long Sword without fear, the man of darkness stepped back and bent slightly as an act of submission.
"Please," the shopkeeper begged, "what must I do to make amends for this offense? Maybe this most valued slave desires something that I offer? Anything is hers. She has only to point it out."
Long Sword put one of his well-aimed weapons away. The other stayed steadily aimed at the so-called Moor.
Iona had always known that Long Sword hid his armaments as did his brother, but had never seen them aimed to kill—maim maybe but not kill.
"There is nothing you can trade for her discomfort," Long Sword growled. "And, she is no one's slave. There are no slaves here and your pet is held responsible for his own actions."
Iona tried to peek around Long Sword, but the way he positioned himself made it impossible to see the dark one. But, from her position she could clearly see the shopkeeper's fear.
"Forgive both of our transgressions," the shopkeeper pleaded.
"I'll spare you and this poorly trained companion only once. If he so much as looks upon her face, you will leave this place alone and your body marked to hold the memory. You will forever thank me for each breath you take. Is this fully understood?"
"Yes, Yes," the shopkeeper said. "I thank you for your compassion."
"There is no compassion here old man. I keep to my word."
Then to the Moor he warned, "It is her I wish not to frighten with your blood. She will not save you if there is a next time."
"Then I owe the one that is not your slave great gratitude," the dark one spoke with a voice that rumbled.
The sound of the man's voice addressing Long Sword directly brought a new feel to Russ' body. Iona rubbed it soothingly to let him know that she was still there.
"Fuck your gratitude," Long Sword spit out.
Long Sword did not like the way the Moor returned his stare or how he dared to speak to him directly. He felt in his gut that he would eventually end this man's life. He would do so gladly. It was true when he stated that Iona was the only reason the man lived for now. He would have pushed his sword through the man's neck and gutted him without hesitation if it were not for her.
Russ was a man of few prejudices. The color of one's skin held no significance to him. There was good and there was bad to be found in all. However, he recognized the markings of this Moor's people. They were well trained mercenaries, slaves to no one. Russ had fought them successfully. However, they were formidable enemies and not to be trusted. Their idea of honor was no honor at all. It was important that Iona understood that this Moor was not of her kind.
Iona had not heard or felt a few of Kieren's men gathering behind her. They were as unified on land as they were at sea. Although not positioned like Long Sword, they were equally ready and equipped to inflict great pain. One grabbed her to pull her closer to safety. Iona jerked her arm away from him. She would not be treated like a helpless child.
"Iona," Long Sword demanded. His voice steadied her and she move between the two men that stood closely behind Russ.
The men fell in step only after Long Sword safely removed himself and Iona. He held on to Iona's arm tightly, practically dragging her along as he moved with speed. His threatening disposition did not fade as he made his way to the Longhouse. Stragglers moved swiftly out of his way without complaint. Everyone watched. Iona briefly saw bitter jealousy cross the face of Astrid—who seemed to always pop up to witness any kind of humiliation thrown Iona's way. In others she saw fear. She could feel the effort she had put into fitting in disappearing with every step.
Once home, Long Sword swung her around so that she faced him.
"What possessed you to wander off?" he asked her, his voice having changed considerably. "You wear no head covering and your shift is too thin."
"The day was warm and I finished my duties early. I only wished to look upon the dry goods," Iona explained.
Iona reached up and placed her hand on the side of Russ' face to be sure that the man that now stood before her was indeed the man she held dear.
The shift in Longsword's mood was palpable. Once again he was the man she recognized. He placed his hand on top of hers and their eyes locked.
It was Gunner's dogged entrance that broke the trance.
"She should wear Kieren's mark so that she is easily identified," he roared.
"There is no one here that does not know that she is Kieren's," Russ calmly replied.
"The mark is for those who dare not know."
Each one of Kieren's men wore a raised mark on their arm, just below the curve of the shoulder. Some men wore two, one on each arm. Gunner, Russ and a few others wore three. The third was over the heart. Iona knew so because she watched the men practice their art from time to time or while shirtless and playing their violent games.
Russ found her interest in such things distasteful and discouraged her voyeuristic tendencies, answering no questions when it came to the matter.
"And where shall we put such a mark. She could never withstand the ceremony of a warrior," Russ said in a sad, low voice—his eyes never left hers. "She would simply find it to be a mark of ownership."
"Then we will have something made to clearly identify her as a member of Kieren's household. And, she must never remove it."
"She is entrusted to us," Gunner then roared once more.
"We protect what is ours," Russ said in a softer tone.
"Off with you," Gunner told her. "Your growth on my ass grows bigger."
"The roundness of mine remains," she added, leaving.
This caused Gunner to forget his anger and laugh heartedly.
Russ watched her go in the direction of her own quarters.
"Why did you not kill him," Gunner demanded.
"She was too close; she would have worn his blood. I could not have that. There is innocence in her." Long Sword returned coldly.
"She has seen men die before."
"Not because of her and not while wearing their blood."
"You'll only kill him later. I see that in you."
"I know. My senses demand it and my sword weeps for his blood."
********************
As Iona lay in her night shift, Brenna began to speak to her in a hushed voice.
"Long Sword would have easily shed blood for you today. All of them would. The displeasure of Kieren hangs heavily over their heads. It is their honor they protect. Never forget that these men are Kieren's for a reason. One of them would be like ten belonging to another, especially the ones responsible for you. They are trained to endure much. They are willing to sacrifice much."
"Do not misinterpret the nature of Long Sword. Act wisely," she continued. "Men and men like him are designed for the fight. They grow restless by the day, hungry for it."
Iona's eyes widened.
"You hold lives in your hand and your carelessness alarms me. There have been no limits placed on your curiosity. Place them yourself. You are no child, nor are you a fool. A woman must always think beyond herself."
Brenna hoped that her words were absorbed fully. If the uniqueness of the Moor drew the girl's wonderment, lives could be lost.
Iona was deep in sleep when Russ came to stand over her.
"You've fulfilled your duty and she is fine," Brenna whispered, standing at the door.
"I just wanted to see for myself."
"What are you doing Russ?" It was more of a warning than a question. "This is not the first time you have come in the earliest part of the morning to watch over her."
"What is it to you Brenna? She is crafty. I am a man and she is under my care."
"You are first a warrior sworn in service to your brother. I think the warrior in you becomes forgetful as the man in you cares too much."
"I am one in my intentions. I think you should mind your own damn business."
"Your attitude tells me all I need to know. You have many women that welcome your special care. She is beautiful; she is more beautiful on the inside than most. She also belongs to someone else. Do not let her become an issue of trepidation between you and your brother. You will lose on both accounts."
She left him at Iona's bedside shaking her head. Brenna had seen the contentment on Russ' face when he sat between Iona's legs and let her place braids in his hair. She had seen the countenance of his face fall when Iona mentioned the beauty of Kieren's hair.
How can two men be of one mind at sea, Brenna thought, and two heads constantly colliding on land?
Russ wanted to just lie beside Iona, to hold her as she slept. A taste of her had not been enough. But he knew now more than ever, Iona belonged to Kieren. There was no break in that.
****************
Russ monitored Iona more closely, as if that was possible.
"Must you sneak off to witness everything," he had said to her one day as she watched the men practicing hand combat.
They were ruthless with one another. Iona could only imagine their fierceness in battle. What she knew of them was quite tame compared to what she saw now.
Iona had of course not heard him come up behind her, but was not shocked at the closeness of his presence.
"As a slave," she told him, "it is advisable to watch and study closely what is seen and not seen. Life can depend on such information. I do not expect you to understand such a thing."
"Why would I not?" he asked.
Iona turned to him in curiosity.
"You are a free man. What would make you think of such things?"
Russ filled his lungs and then exhaled. Iona felt that his next words would carry much weight.
"I was given a way at an early age. I am a child claimed but amounting to nothing in the household of my father. I am the bastard child with only a portion of blood to prove my existence. I am the unwanted child with no purpose, not a servant yet not far from one. Given no choice I had to learn the art of seeing and not being seen, knowing but expected not to know."
"Were you not raised in the same house with your brother?"
"Yes, I was."
"Was he not your reprieve?"
"Yes my brother was, as you say, my reprieve. But, he too was young and his power limited.
"There are so many things about you that I do not know." Iona watched him and could see the curtain fall over his expression.
It was obvious that she would not learn more today. She now knew that there was more depth to this man than fun, games and sex. She had seen those sides of him. She had also witnessed the warrior in him and now the boy. The warrior in him was much stronger.
As they walked through the market square, Iona noticed that the peddler and his companion had disappeared. Another vender stood in its place. She dared not ask why. She had hoped that they were still alive.
A few days later, Iona was relieved when she found the eyes of the Moor. They seemed to call out for her. He stood hidden at the perimeter of the market. The acknowledgement between them was barely a blink of the eye. Then he vanished. Iona made no motion. There was comfort in the knowledge that he still breathed. There was also fear. If he was seen by another, his life would be snatched away. The blood of a fellow slave would be on her hands.
Russ was not able to follow her eyes but felt the brief tension in her body. It made him touch the arm that rested between his. He then welcomed the brightness of her smile.
****************
The next issue would be Astrid, of course. While shopping for fresh fruits, Iona was accosted for the last time.
"Where is your precious guard today?" She bumped herself into Iona's arm.
Without taking her eyes off of Astrid, Iona picked up her fallen fruits and placed them back in her basket. The vendor immediately offered to replace them.
Iona declined.
"This blackened whore is not so special that you should care about her," Astrid scolded the vendor. "Women of her kind are used to what drops to the ground from the table of mine. She is the kind that sweeps our floors. The Gods have blessed her, but we all know their blessings are brief for the underserving."
"Watch yourself," Iona warned softly, walking away.
"For what do I have to fear in you?" Astrid called out.
Iona turned to face her. "Simply waving my hand would result in your removal. My request would guarantee the permanency of it. That is the way of my kind. You hold no upper hand here."
The look of anger that flushed Astrid's face was priceless. Iona turned to walk away.
"You forget who he comes to for true comfort you bed whore," Astrid yelled out for everyone to hear.
After calmly placing her basket on the ground, Iona turned and took the steps that separated the two women. There was no fear on her face or in her voice. She did not lower her tone. This was something all should hear as well.
"Since you speak for your kind, do not forget who begs on her knees in the secret of shadows only to be fucked in the mouth without care. You will always be on your knees before him. That is where you belong. In the warmth of his bed is where you will always find me. My bosom will be where he comes to rest his head. He asks for the joy of my touch. I am his true comfort and the only one that can sooth him. I stand beside him. I have never dropped to my knees in front of him. I have never begged and I have never had the need. I am where my kind belongs. Who is the whore here?"
The woman's attack was fast, but Iona's reaction was faster. She had more experience defending herself than anyone her age should. She bested the girl quickly, aiming for the face. She wanted the woman's beating to be worn as a warning.
When Iona was a slave, she had not responded to the inequities of her position. She was no longer anyone's slave. Years of anger sprung forward. Curses she had not used in quite some time fell from her lips easily.
Having been knocked to the ground, Astrid attempted to protect herself. Iona was about to go down on her when she felt a strong arm latch around her waist and pull her away. Her arms kept swinging and she continued to throw words of insult.
"Today my guard guards you," she yelled out. "He is the only reason you live. Say something to me again and I will pull your teeth from your repulsive face. Your Gods will no longer recognize you or save you from my fury. There are no warnings left for you."
"We pull out teeth now do we?" The owner of the voice was unmistakable. "That is a definite step up from requesting that your ass be kissed."
Despite the surprise, it took a while for Iona to calm down.
"Place me on my feet now," she demanded.
"Why?" the voice teased. "Is it blood you wish to draw?"
"Hers," Iona spit out.
"Then you have accomplished what you have set out to do. Your viciousness even scares my guards."
"And you?" Her voice was calm now and her body draped over his arm.
"You scare me as well, but this is not unexpected."
"Place me on my feet," Iona asked, now feeling the effects of Kieren's closeness and her own shame.
"Only if you promise to behave."
"Do not tease me now in this position."
With that Kieren let her stand, but he did not remove his arm from around her waist.
"Kieren," now on her feet Astrid demanded, "you need to remind your foreign slave girl of her place. Like the animal she is, she viciously attacked me without constraint. I thought she might bite me like a rabid bitch. Your guards should be punished for failure."
Kieren's attention turned to Astrid while once again lifting Iona from her feet. Iona wished to finish her attack. This made him proud.
"Control your tongue woman or I will set controls in place for it." He left no room for doubt in his words. "You wrongly assume a situation that does not exist. There is nothing established for you in my household. It is she I protect. Any punishment that takes place will be in connection to that. I establish Iona's place among you. You have proven yourself to be the rabid dog here as well as the one in heat. Do not concern yourself with what is mine or what is not. This woman I hold is slave to no master neither is she foreign to me."
Before Kieren turned to walk off with her still under his arm. Iona watched Astrid's swollen lips gap open in disbelief
"You are the one that should be warned Gulbrandson Kieren. It is you demeaned here."
Kieren turned immediately and stepped forward so that there was little room between the two of them.
Iona wanted to take advantage of the proximity and reached out for Astrid, but the girl backed up in fear. It was not fear of Iona, but fear of Kieren.
Kieren now had the tone that Iona remembered well. He had used it to set matters straight with her. It was deadlier when spoken for all to hear.
"It is you," he said, "that have forgotten your place in position to mine. Make no further mistake. I am a man that stands on solid ground—not upon the shoulders of any. You and your family can easily feel the effects of how solid the ground beneath me is."
Astrid put more space between them and no one dared come to her aid.
As Kieren turned, he easily placed Iona over his shoulder and a few of his men fell in step behind him. Iona began to struggle.
"Settle down girl," he laughed. His mood had shifted quickly.
"I am no girl," she told him between gritted teeth. "I am a woman. I am a free woman not to be treated like a bag of potatoes."
"This is true," he laughed. "But, you are my potatoes and I do what I please with what is mine."
"She is slave to no man," Iona childishly mimicked.
"Your words are the ones to be questioned here," Kieren informed her.
Iona stiffened.
"I speak many words in anger."
"Yes," he said. "I am aware of that. And, you speak them in the middle of the market nonetheless."
"I embarrass you and your household. For that, I am sorry."
"Woman, do not lie to me," he laughed. "If another chance was given, I would still have to pull you from a cat fight."
"She is no cat," Iona spit out, "She is a rodent."
Once inside his home, Kieren positioned her in a way that allowed her to slide down his body, but not all the way. The transition was smoothly done. He spread his hands across her backside and easily supported her weight. Without choice and fear of falling, Iona wrapped her legs and arms around him. They were now eye to eye.
His eyes were so deep with the color of the sky. She swore that she could see clouds moving behind them. They were hypnotizing. It was too much for her to take. She looked away.
"Now I'll have you put me down please."
"Today is full of surprises." Kieren gave her the most beautiful of smiles. "She learns a new word in my absence Brenna. This word is please."
"This girl you forcefully put upon me has quite the vocabulary as well as attitude." Brenna spoke with the pretense of anger. She smiled ear to ear. They were her children, for them to have each other held meaning to her.
"Have you now. I wish to hear all your words Iona." His voice grew silky.
"My words only seem to result in my punishment," Iona whispered in shame.
Kieren considered her for a moment and searched her dark eyes. His smile slowly vanished. He released her and she slid down the rest of his body.
Iona could feel the graze of his need as she slid to her feet. Her legs felt weak and her own need had long since established itself. If he were to slip his fingers between her thighs Kieren would find her exceedingly ready for more.
He bowed his head, smiling once more and left toward his private area. The men that were observing suddenly pretended to be disinterested.
A bewildered Iona watched his broad back turn down a passage way. She knew what she had felt against her. It was undoubtedly want. Something like that on him was impossible for any breathing woman to ignore. But, maybe that was a general reaction when it came to women. Maybe he and Russ shared more than just blood and beauty. The site and feel of any woman made blood rush to their organ.
Confused, Iona looked to Brenna. Brenna just humped up her shoulders and turned to fulfill her purpose. Once turned, she had to stop herself from laughing out loud.
"That damn Kieren," she said shaking her head.
Iona did not know what to do. Brenna would only escort her out of the kitchen claiming it was still a danger for the girl and anyone that crossed the girl's path. There was no sign of Russ or Gunner to distract her with their inane games. Sitting alone would be too awkward, not to mention humiliating. Going for a walk was not wise at the moment. Astrid was most likely stationed in a strategic position, waiting to shoot Iona in the heart with a poisoned arrow.
Without any other choice, she went to her room and sat on her bed with her hands clasped. She sat there for quite some time thinking.
What was she expecting? There was not anything truly experienced on the Long Ship to solidify a personal relationship between the two—especially not sexually. His only actual physical contact with her body included a harsh spanking and harsher... She really did not want to recreate that image in her mind. His intention had been to punish not please. Then with the coldest of warnings, he had separated himself. He had fulfilled his original words by having her delivered to safety. Iona reasoned that she was free; freedom was all that he promised. It was his only true commitment. Her imagination had created everything else. It was a girl's imagination, nothing more.
These things had long since occurred to her. She recalled her oath to be a woman that accepted reality. The part that she had given to him had to be excised. There was little reason for her to keep penalizing herself. He had demonstrated that she meant little to him as a woman.
Had he not asked her to always remember his parting words aboard his Long Ship? "Never forget what I say to you today, for I shall not."
If not anything else, Kieren's words were truth. Had not Gunner informed her of that when she tried to take her own life?
Iona washed, slipped on her night shift and attempted to sleep. Sleep teased her but never came. Like the night of his last return, she was restless. This time it was beyond compare. Remembering what happened last time made her fear finding her way to the kitchen for warmed goat's milk.
It does not matter, she reasoned. Finding him fucking another on a table meant for eating would only strengthen her resolve.
"Cut it away," she said aloud.
There were a few men living within the Long House and not in the other house designed to house many. She had not considered that her covering was inappropriate until she was already on her way to the kitchen. Then she thought better of it and made her way back to her room. As she found her way through the main hall, Iona paused and stared.
If she had to explain the reason, Iona could not. The passage way to his private area called out to her. Memories flooded her mind. There was the way he had looked at her sometimes. Kieren showed no shame or pretense when watching her bathing or dressing. Sometimes he focused on particular parts of her anatomy than others. The knowledge had always hardened her nipples and they would become humiliatingly obvious. Even when her back was toward him, Iona could feel his eyes upon her. And when the furs that covered him no longer covered his nakedness, he sat boldly in front of her. Iona had to turn away, angry with her body's betrayal.
Kieren was always comfortable with his nakedness on the Long Ship. Why not, Iona knew the small cabin to be his personal space? He did not adjust his habits to accommodate her. His body was perfect in every way, all of it. Even his scars seemed beautiful. Often she had dreamed of how he would feel under her hands, the feel of his skin stretched over muscle. His hair was always wet after he washed. He would raise his arms to dry it with a cloth. Iona liked the look of his arms. He could handle her so well with the strength of those arms. The way his appendage hung made Iona ache to touch it, to verify its beauty. When hard and erect it needed no verification. It made her ache in another way. Iona did not think of it as an appendage at that point. Her thoughts were immoral, she wanted his cock.
No man had ever stirred anything inside of her. When circumstances required the sacrifice of her body there was a division within her. The part that mattered would blind itself and become unfeeling. She became motionless and void of emotion. Iona was a slave, no matter how well treated. For Kieren, Iona felt a deep sense of need. He awakened her body in ways no man had ever done. This was without even a touch from him. She longed for his touch.
Iona felt that she must have her questions answered. Had she imagined what she saw in his eyes? Could he truly see no use for her? Only he could answer her questions. Only he could decide if he should be cut away. That way, she could be certain of any conclusion drawn on her part. There would be no assumptions nurturing fantasies.
She moved quietly down his passage way. The opening to his area was closed for privacy. Iona's thoughts became conflicted. But, she realized that her decision was already made when she came toward his door. Iona had come too far to turn back. Besides if her knowledge of him was correct, Kieren already knew that she was at his door. The man missed nothing. She must now prove herself to be a woman and not a child frightened of confrontation. Her boldness was firm in other aspects of her life, why not here? Why not now?
Iona opened the door, closed her eyes and stepped in. She expected a knife to be placed at her neck or to be restrained in some way. But when she felt nothing, she opened her eyes. Kieren was standing directly before her with his arms crossed. The darkness of night could not hide his nakedness.
"What do you want Iona," he calmly demanded.
Iona cleared her throat.
"I need to acquire you," she stumbled. "I mean acquire of you. No, inquire of you. I...uhm...have questions."
"An Iona that fails to form words correctly is a rare thing."
Iona did not get the feeling that he was teasing. It sounded like he was irritated. She turned to make her escape with apologies.
While attempting to open the door, Kieren's hand pressed firmly against it. Although he was not touching her, Iona could feel his body behind her.
"You have awakened me from a sound sleep." Even and smooth, his voice was not far from her ear. "What is your query?"
"I wanted to make an apology for my words today; I mean yesterday." She tried not to sound nervous.
"And, your query is?"
"I apologize for not clearly establishing my purpose to...uhm...apologize from the start."
"You wish to apologize for your words. You said so many. To which are you referring?"
"Well, my behavior was inexcusable."
This time his lips were closer.
"What words?" he probed in a lower more intimate tone.
"Well...see..." Iona desperately wanted the entire situation to disappear. How stupid could she be, disturbing his privacy in such a way?
"You are not a child," his voice became as silky as earlier, "yet you play a child's game. Children should be in bed at this time of night."
"Remove your hand and I shall return to my bed." Iona attempted to have better control of her voice. "But, it is not because I am a child. I simply do not wish to impose."
"To come to my room with little on has already been done. The imposition is that you come with poor justification."
"I had questions but your tone and behavior leaves me feeling threatened. I can no longer recall their significance." Iona tried to sound indignant. "I will leave you with my apologies and return to my designated area."
"Face me when you address me."
Influenced by the strong pull of his command, Iona slowly turned with her head dropped. He was unnervingly close and she dared not raise her head. When he placed his curved finger under her chin and lifted it, unbearable warmth flooded her body.
"In the cover of darkness you come into my room without invitation, knowing at the center of things I am a man. First you say you have an inquiry. Then you apologize for your previous actions and words unknown. Finally, you accuse me of threatening you and you desire to flee to safety. Am I correct?"
Silence.
"Answer me."
The harshness in his voice, no matter how slight, brought the feel of approaching tears. Her weakness shamed her.
Iona's voice began to waiver. "Well...see...I..." she said before it failed her.
Kieren dropped his finger from her chin.
"Not only are you a child that plays at being a woman but you tease as well."
Kieren waited for a response.
"Must I remind you that I am a woman not a child? My intentions are honorable," Iona finally responded, pulling from her inner strength.
With the same finger that had held her chin, Kieren flicked a hardened, extended nipple. Iona caught her breath and her legs weakened.
"In the middle of the night my intentions are not."
"I am quite aware of that."
Iona observed the shadows of his face.
"What do you want Iona?" He raised his voice.
Silence.
"Since you insist that you are a woman, do not waste time. Speak."
"I came to make myself available for your use," she blurted out.
"Available? What does that exactly mean?" Kieren moved closer to her.
Her breasts with their pebbled nipples pressed into him with every intake of air. She knew he felt them.
"To use me," she said hurriedly. "To fuck me how you please. I owe you as much."
"You owe me nothing," he said removing his hand from the door. Kieren was angry now. "I have no desire to use you as you say."
He stepped back.
"You offer yourself to me like a child forced to share a toy. Must I remind you that I am a man not an animal that molests girls? With that offense, take your leave."
He crossed his arms.
Once again her words brought her punishment. This time he would not touch her at all. She was not worth even a physical demonstration of his anger. She had been warned before of his contempt for her.
Tears began to roll down her face.
"Why do you not want me? Am I not as pleasing as the others? Is it because I am a slave, the color of my skin?" she said, surrendering to her emotions. "I've seen the need that you have for women. I can be solely for your consumption as well."
"I am sorry that I abused you in such a way that night and failed to show you any care. You are no man's slave, not mine or any others. Yet you come to me as a slave available for a fucking you do not desire. You offer yourself as payment. I have no desire for a slave. I have no desire for payment."
Kieren ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Leave. Rest assured that our obligations to one another are complete."
Iona lowered her head once more. She turned and opened the door. Her lungs tightened and her chest began to ache. She moved slowly in hopes that he would stop her.
He did not.
In her room she cried into her hands while sitting at the edge of her bed. There was the familiar, a light knock at her door. Relief filled her. Brenna would help her get through this. Brenna would tell her how to do what was impossible; she would help Iona cut him away. Her wisdom would lead Iona once more and help her to become the woman she should be. Iona needed the older woman to restore her strength. Brenna cared about her. She was the only one that truly did. Iona rushed to open the door.
"Oh Brenna..." she began on the verge of new tears.
His movements were quick. Kieren placed one hand around her waist and drew her lips to his. This was what he ached for and he made the most of it. When he attempted to pull his lips away to consider her response, Iona threw her arms around him and her lips followed his with hunger. This was all he needed to know. He wrapped his arms fully around her, raised her from the floor while kicking the door completely open.
The feel of his lips upon hers was beyond any imagined. Her entire body relaxed into his form and the firmness of his hands across her back. When Kieren lifted her up, Iona's legs eagerly clasped around his waist. Her arms held on to him for dear life. She could not hold him close enough. Iona was finally home and stepping beyond any fantasy. She was at the threshold of an unknown reality.
As Kieren moved to her bed, he was lost in the exploration of her lips and the desperateness of their tongues. The thought of exploring her body over took him. His need for her and its denial had created an enormous sense of desire within him. His want had become physically painful. He had to remind himself to be gentle and how precious she truly was to him.
But, there were things she must know and he needed to tell. He broke from their kiss and whispered in her ear.
"You have only witnessed my coldness, for that I am sorry. I desire to show my true self. I am gentle with that I care greatly for. I want you as a man wants a woman with no obligations. I only desire the dedication of your heart?"
"Let us not insult each other or waste this moment with endearments," she whispered into his ear and tasted it with the tip of her tongue--her craving for him relieving her of self-control and filling her with the boldness of lust. "You and I are of the same cut. I was made for you alone; your needs are my needs. I have only my heart to give and you have always carried that. Let your claim be complete. Take what is yours."
Her words shot through his body like lightning, strengthening and weakening him. It was time for him to have what he needed most. It was time for him to fill Iona with the awareness of such.
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** For the person who wrote the review about being confused, I apologize for that. It is my story both the original and this, the re-write. The explanation was removed when I had to re-post the chapters. If you read the old story thank you, there's nothing new. This re-write is 'cleaner' a little bit more 'in-depth' to the original. Thank you and HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!**
...And now for the next chapter...
Sally put her raised hand down again for the fifth time. She had arrived more than ten minutes ago and was still trying to convince herself to knock on the door and announce herself. She was still trying to convince herself to attend the party. Not bothering to look for a dress, she thought she was home free until she received Storm's text on Thursday and realized her window of escape had closed. Storm had manipulated the situation to his advantage. Oh how she wished she had both jobs right now to play one off the other and leave town unnoticed.
Anna had also tried drilling her after Storm left the night he made the invitation known. She wanted to know how well Sally knew his sister to be invited to her party. But there was no way she was going to tell Anna that not only had she worked for Storm but had slept with him too. That was something she was trying to forget even if secretly she was happy to see him, and had fantasized that he was happy to see her also. She had to stop that...the fantasizing, and with that resolve, lifted her hand and knocked.
After a few minutes, he opened the door. His hair was damp and he was buttoning the cuff of his white shirt. He was wearing dress slacks and polished black shoes.
"Hey you made it," he said stepping aside to let her in.
"Hi, yeah, I did. I have a dress to wear. Do you mind if I change?"
"No, no, not at all. I'll go finished getting dressed. Let me know if you need anything."
"Sure," she replied as she walked away thinking he should be an abomination, no man should be that good looking. Her heart was racing. She was going to be at a private social event with no way to leave on her own. She hoped this night went smoothly.
Storm was standing in the foyer when he saw her coming towards him. She was gorgeous and while her make-up wasn't done by a professional, it's barely there look fit her perfectly. Her eye were done up with only black eyeliner and mascara, and a very shiny red lip gloss. He wanted to kiss her so badly. The royal blue color of her dress made her skin seem to shimmer while the cut enhanced her sensual curves. The caftan sleeves and deep cut bodice tapered into a form fitting silhouette stopping just below her knees. Black patent leather, peep toe pumps gave her legs an elongated look and he immediately thought about making love to her in them. Quickly turning, he adjusted himself without her seeing as he opened the door for them to leave.
"We have to get going," he said. "Do you have everything?"
"Yes, I do. Are you sure this is not an inconvenience? Are we picking up your date along the way?"
"No, it's not an inconvenience. Let's go, Ayasha wants me there early for some reason and if I arrive late, she'll bitch at me for the whole night."
Storm felt his decision to drive was both the best and worst at the same time. If he was in the limo, his hands would be buried in her hair and her lip would been swollen from his kisses. But since he was driving, he had to keep his focus on the road instead of the gorgeous woman beside him whose delicate fragrance was keeping him in a semi-hard state. She had asked about his date but soon she would know she was his date. He was planning on spending the night getting to know her.
When they arrived at the house, Storm stopped the valet from opening Sally's door. He opened it himself and with his hand at the small of her back began to lead her up steps of the house.
She looked around and Storm tried putting her at ease, "It's okay. You're with me tonight."
"What about your date?"
"My date?" he asked as he read the text he just received.
"Well...yes..."
"Let's go, Ayasha just text me again. She's becoming an impatient worry-wart."
As soon as they walked through the door, Sally realized they were very early. No one was there which made Storm very suspicious as to why Ayasha had insisted that he arrive so early and be on time. He asked the doorman for is aunt and didn't have to wait long as the she come through the double doors of the formal dining room to greet him.
"Storm, ci siete. E 'possibile per visitare me senza un invito formale?"
He smiled and hugged her, "Zia Annetta, sei bellissima come al solito e tu sei ancora la mia zia preferita."
"Sono il tuo unico zia ti diavolo. È padre sarebbe molto deluso dal modo di trattare la sua unica sorella."
"Che sul senso di colpa un po 'troppo pesante non è vero zia Annetta?"
"Niente affatto se si otterrà me più visite da voi. And who is this lovely young lady?" Annette asked finally addressing Sally.
"This is Sally McDonald, my date," he introduced. To Sally, "Sally this is my only beautiful aunt, Annetta Lenittio."
"Devil!" she said to Storm as she laughed and took Sally's hand. "You are beautiful. It is a pleasure to have you here. Please do come in, come in," Annetta said as she turned and ushered them into the waiting room.
As they entered, a maid addressed Annetta, "Mrs. Lenittio? Your niece is asking for you and of her brother's arrival."
"Ayasha has been patiently awaiting your arrival Storm. Go up and see her now." When Storm looked back at Sally, Annetta continued, "I'll look after your date. We'll get to know each other. Vai avanti ora."
"Okay Aunt Annetta, thanks."
"Now dear, where are you from," Annetta said addressing Sally.
Ayasha Monsello looked at herself again in the full length mirror and smiled sadly at her reflection. It was the happiest day of her life and she wanted her father to be there. It wasn't that she didn't love Storm, quite the opposite. He'd taken over being her protector and confidant after their father died but every girl needed her daddy on her big day; it was just how it was suppose to be. Her beautiful custom made Vera Wang dress was decorated with hand beaded Swarovski Crystals and seed pearls into a Native American Indian pattern. For jewels she wore the diamond earrings her father gave her for the sixteenth birthday. They were her favourite jewels from him. Iris her best friend fluffed out the back of her dress as they heard the knock on the door.
"I'll get it," Iris said putting down the bouquet of flowers.
"Thanks Iris."
"Hey Iris what's going on?" Storm asked.
"I'll leave you two," she said and exited the room as Storm entered.
Storm looked back at Iris curiously since she was never one to mince words. Looking back at Ayasha, Storm stopped as the door closed behind him.
"Ayasha what's going on?"
"What does it look like? I'm getting married and I want you to give me away...please."
"Yashy why didn't you tell me? Why are you rushing into this?"
"You've known about our engagement..."
"Yes, but I was expecting an invitation and such, formally. Is Mom coming?"
Ayasha looked down at her hands before she moved to the bed and sat. She motioned Storm to sit in the chair which he did. "No, I didn't invite her."
"Yashy..."
"Storm this is my special day and I don't want her to ruin it. Please try and understand, I want my day to be perfect and she and I have never really gotten along."
"I know that Ayasha but she is our mother. You can't just cut her out of your life like she's a friend you are no longer on terms with? Dad wouldn't have wanted that."
"Dad would have been fine with it..."
"No he wouldn't ..."
"Yes he would. He and I spoke about it before he died and he told me to do what makes me happy. This makes me happy. I don't want her here and you know she's always hated me." Ayasha got up and moved to the window.
Storm sighed. Both women had been at odds with each other for as long as he could remember. "She doesn't hate you Yashy. You're both headstrong."
"No Storm, you're her son she loves you."
"Yes she does and she loves you too..."
"Storm I don't want to argue about this. This is my day and I don't want her here."
"Ayasha, this is a mistake. She's your mother..."
"No she isn't. She's your mother not mine!" Ayasha yelled and turned away. 'I'm sorry Daddy,' Ayasha said to herself.
Storm took her shoulders and turned her around to him. She wouldn't look at him so he tilted her face to up to his. Her eyes had unshed tears before one spilled and she looked away. "When did you find out?"
She looked at him then, "You know?"
"Yes, I know. Dad told me before I left for college. He didn't want anyone else telling me. When?"
"After the argument when I was about ten. She told me she wasn't my mother and never wanted to be. I asked Dad why she said that and that's when he told me. I'm sorry Storm I never meant to keep..."
Storm pulled her to him and held her tightly. She was his baby sister and it didn't matter to him that they had different mothers. She was his father's daughter and he loved her. She was the pain in the ass sister that would yell at him when she didn't get her way but she would obey him in the end and cook him the best meal 20 minutes later. She wanted the best for him and would fight the world for him if he asked her to. "It doesn't matter. You're my baby sister and I'll love and protect you forever. I only want you to be happy."
She hugged him back tightly, "I love you too Storm. I love you too. I only want you to be happy also." She pulled back and looked into his eyes, "Dad asked me not to tell you. He didn't want you hating him. Don't hate him Storm."
"I can't Ayasha. He's my Dad and I love him. Stop crying, you're going to ruin your make-up."
Ayasha smiled. "I don't mind. I have one of the best make-up artist on hand to repair any damages."
"You don't need it anyway. You're beautiful just the way you are."
"I need you to walk me down the aisle. I want you to give me away."
"You don't think I would allow anyone else do it now do you?"
Ayasha smiled exuberantly. "No, no one can take your place."
"I just have one thing to clarify..." Storm said and continued at Ayasha's curious look, "You will continue to make me dinner right? Not because your married doesn't mean I'm not longer going to be invited over for dinner on a regular basis, right?"
Ayasha laughed, "Do you always make deals with your stomach?"
"Only when you're cooking. You know I love hanging with you."
"Nothing's going to change. There's always a place at my table for you, always."
"Get dressed. I'll be waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs."
"See you soon."
Storm kissed her before he left.
The ceremony was simple and elegant. The groom wore a black tuxedo and was very dashing with his slicked back dark brown hair and twinkling light brown eyes. Everyone was happy eating, drinking, talking, laughing, dancing and just having a good time. Sally was seated in the second row with his friends on the bride's side. She had now formally met Mike and Brad, Storm's best friend along with Kevin a computer scientist who offered her unlimited bootleg movies anytime she wanted. Mike had promptly informed Kevin he would arrest him if sold her any. The guys laughed and ribbed each other and made her feel comfortable. What Sally found disturbing was the nasty looks she kept receiving from some of Ayasha's friends who were at the club. She had not spoken with those girls there they were, glaring at her as if she had grown horns.
The most interesting person she met at the wedding however was Storm's Uncle Gianni. He was a charming flirt who knew all too well that he was still very handsome for a man in his sixties. Upon their meeting, he kissed the back of her hand and took her away claiming since it was his house he had to seen with the prettiest woman there. His so called tour of the house was him giving her the 'dirt' on the people attending especially of the women whom he claimed still 'wanted him for his body.' She had no choice but to laugh at his antics and how much he teased his wife. It was easy to see that he was madly in love with her especially when he told Annetta he had finally found her replacement, Sally. Annetta had happily replied that she knew that Sally wouldn't want an old man when she could have a young, gorgeously handsome and virile man like her nephew. That comment made Sally blush deeply and it was seen by both Annetta and Gianni.
After a few hours of socializing, Sally needed a break and walked to a far off section of the garden. Before she knew it, she was standing by a beautiful long stem white and yellow orchid bloom, in a secluded area. Taking in the intricate curves orchid petals, she genuinely was started at the voice close to her.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," the tall, handsome man said.
She had seen him a few times the evening and had made eye contact with her several times so far, however, she could have sworn he came with a date and therefore couldn't understand why he was there speaking with her. "You didn't frighten me. I was just admiring the flower."
"It's beautiful, just like the person admiring it."
"Thank you." She turned her back to him hoping he would leave her alone.
Instead he took the remaining steps towards her and Sally moved to another plant to put more distance between them. "I was wondering if you would like to go to dinner sometime."
She looked back at him, "I don't know who you are..."
"Yes, I'm sorry. My name is Derrick and you are?"
"Hi, you left without letting anyone know where you were. Are you okay?" Chad one of Storm's friends asked.
Both Sally and Derrick turned and watch Chad descend the remaining steps towards them. "Yes, I am thank you."
Chad turned to Derrick, "If you don't mind, I need to have a word with her in private."
"Yes, sure," Derrick responded but handed Sally one of his business cards, "Call me anytime. I would love to finish our conversation. Good night."
Sally took the business card and bade him good night also. She noticed how Chad watched Derrick until he was out of sight before closing the distance between them. He touched her elbow which made Sally feel very uncomfortable, as if she was being hunted. She wanted to escape.
"You're very beautiful," Chad whispered to her.
"So is your wife," Sally replied deciding make her position clear.
"Yes, she is but I would like to get you know you better."
"I'm busy and I think you would be also with your wife. Please excuse me." Sally made to move by him and he reached out and held her arm.
"I'm sure you and I can find the time..."
"Like she said Chad, she's busy," Storm said in a soft menacing tone when he noticed Chad holding on to her arm. Chad quickly released his hold and took a step back from Sally. Sally moved towards Storm and took the hand he held out toward her. "I think your wife is looking for you," and they both watched as Chad visibly swallowed.
"Yes, thanks for letting me know," he said to Storm and hurriedly returned to the reception.
"Are you okay?" Storm asked.
"Yes, I'm fine. I'm going to leave now. Thank you."
"How were you planning on leaving?"
"I'll call a cab. I know your address..."
"The code for my alarm has been changed and you no longer have the keys so you would have to wait until I got home to get the rest of your things. Furthermore, I brought you and I will take you back home. Did he do or say anything inappropriate to you?"
"No."
But Storm noticed she didn't look at him when she answered and it was upsetting him. Chad had no boundaries and didn't take his marriage vows seriously. His wife was friendly with Ayasha but they were not close. He didn't care what Chad did but if he found him around Sally again he would not be as cordial.
"Sally please tell me what he said to you. I know Chad. He's an asshole..."
"It was nothing. He just said we could make time for each other. I told him no."
They both kept looking at each other and Storm couldn't look at her anymore, he closed the distance between them as he pulled her to him and sealed their lip together. His tongue pushed past her lips to lick at her tongue. He held her face in his hand as he tilted her head to the side to taste more of her. She was like a drug he was finally getting to assuage his craving after months of being denied. He moaned when he felt her fingers grip his shirt and got lost further in her taste. Her smell blended perfectly with the scent of the orchids. He felt the back of her dress and knew exactly where her zipper was. He wanted to undress her right there in the garden and make love to her amongst the beautiful plants and flowers. He wanted...
"Storm...Storm..."
He heard his name the second time it was called and looked up but kept his hands around Sally's neck holding her to him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know..." Ayasha said feeling embarrassed that she had interrupted them. Storm looked over Sally's bent head to Ayasha and stopped her from leaving, "Wait, Ayasha...stop." She did and glanced back before turning back to face him. "What is it?"
"I'm so sorry Storm..."
Storm smiled but not at Ayasha, at Sally whose face was red and flushed from embarrassment. He knew she was afraid to face Ayasha so he pulled her further into his arms despite her resistance. He knew she felt his actions were inappropriate and he smiled more. If only she knew all the inappropriate things he wanted to do to her right there in his Aunt's garden at his sister's wedding reception.
"There's nothing for you to be sorry about Yashy. Did you need something?"
"I just wanted to make sure you were enjoying yourself."
"Yes, I am, immensely."
After a moment of silence and feeling it would be rude to ignore Sally, Ayasha asked, "Sally are you enjoying yourself also?"
Sally, swallowed hard and squeezed her already closed eyes tighter at being addressed. She opened her eyes slowly and turned to Ayasha. "Yes, I am. Thank you for the invitation. Your wedding was lovely and your dress is absolutely beautiful. Thank you again for including me."
"It was my pleasure. I'm so happy you made it. Thank you again for coming. Did you have dinner?"
"Yes, thank you, I did."
"Hey, is this where the party is? I've been looking for you my beautiful wife," Collin said, coming down the step and wrapping his arms around his wife's waist and pulling her back against him.
"No, it's not," Ayasha said turning her face to him to get her kiss.
"Hello, my name is Collin and I don't believe we've had the pleasure of being formally introduced," he said coming down the steps to Sally.
"Yes, sorry about that. Sally, this is Collin the man who tamed my wild sister," Storm said, "Collin, this is Sally, my date."`
"I don't know about the taming part as I like my women a bit wild. She's the wildest one that's the reason why I settled with her," Collin whispered as he shook Sally's hand.
Sally laugh, "It's nice to meet you and thank you also for the invite. It was a lovely ceremony."
"Yes, that it was but then again everything my wife does is beautiful and has to be, look at her, she's gorgeous herself."
"Okay, that's my queue to leave," Storm said, "it's getting a bit sappy in here now."
"One day my friend it will be your turn."
"But until that day, take care of my sister. I will hurt you."
Collin laughed, "Don't I know it."
Storm shook Collin's hand and held Sally's hand as he made his way up the steps to Ayasha who he kissed goodbye. "You had better tell Aunt Annetta you're leaving in person if not, it's your funeral and I'm not postponing my honeymoon."
Storm looked at Ayasha, "Abandoned already Yashy?"
"So are you enjoying yourself? And let me just say, you are the most beautiful woman in this place next to the bride that is," Mike said as he flirted with Sally.
"I'm sure I'm not the only female you've said that to so far tonight," Sally replied.
Mike laughed, "Ouch, you're tough. But really all the men here are finding it difficult to keep their eyes off you. I may have to offer you police protection."
"Do those lines really work on women?"
"Sometimes," Mike replied bring the beer to his lips and winking at her before taking a sip. Sally laughed out loud and both her and Mike bent their heads together laughing at the looks they got from some of the other people. Apparently they were having too much fun by themselves.
"You may need to get new ones," Sally suggested.
"Okay we'll see. Let me see if it works on that woman who's been eyeing me for a while now." Sally glanced over to see the woman Mike was referring to as he acknowledged her with a nod. "By the way, we just broke up. I'm sorry but you will have live without me." He then hurriedly bent his head and whispered, "I'll let you know how it went."
Sally laughed and turned to lean on the bar as he walked away. She was drinking her water quietly when she heard, "So how did you and Storm meet?" Sally turned to the voice and saw a beautiful brunette looking at her. Her black sheath dress was low cut in the front and stopped above her knee.
"Through friends," Sally replied taking another sip of her water.
"I'm one of his closest friends and I don't know you. What friend introduced you?"
"The one you don't know."
"I'm Megan, and you are?"
"His friend. Excuse me."
Sally made to walk away but Megan blocked her path. "You're just an experiment you know." Sally looked at Megan as she continued. "He does this every now and then, finds some girl he knows is different from what he's used to and she's the novelty for a month or two. Then she's passed along to his friends when he is through and then never heard from again. He always comes back to what he knows. He's just trying to get over is recent ex-girlfriend but it's not the first time they've broken up and gotten back together so it's only a matter of time. I wouldn't invest too much into him."
"Don't tell me...you're just trying to warn me so I don't get my hopes up? From one woman to another? We women have to stick together especially with these men who just use us and discard us like a whim, right?"
"Yes, I'm only trying to help. I'm glad you see that."
"So is it the friend that you're desperately trying to help or yourself? I think you're trying to help yourself. I mean if you can have him for yourself then why shouldn't you but then again, he didn't come here tonight with you now did he?"
"You..."
"Hello Megan," Storm said coming to stand by Sally. "Are you ready to leave?"
"Yes, I am."
"Good, let's go. Megan," Storm said as he took Sally's hand in his and led her away with Megan watching slack jawed.
Sally looked out the passenger window as Storm drove to his house. A few times he tried to make small conversation but her answers were short. What Megan said was bothering her. It was her fear...that she was being used as a temporary distraction and she wanted Storm too much to stop herself from being used. She was so deep in thought that she didn't realize he had arrived home. As soon as he closed his front door, he pulled her to him and kissed her soundly. She felt her back hit the wall and her hands got caught between their bodies. She tried to get some leverage but the way he was kissing her only fed her desire for him. His lips trailed to her ear and she to regain the restrain she lost during the kiss.
"Storm...Storm, wait...stop."
"Why?" he asked as he continued to nibble at her neck. "You taste great." He kissed her again and again Sally forgot why she wanted him to stop. He shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor and reached behind for her dress zipper when she turned away from him, this time successfully.
"Storm wait, please."
Storm stopped and looked at her noticing that she kept glancing at him and then looking away. "What's wrong Sally? Are you ok?"
"What is this?"
"What is what?"
"What is this? This that's going on between us. We don't see each other for weeks...am I the novelty? Was that the introductory to your friends?"
"What the hell are you talking about Sally? What novelty? I introduced to you to my friends because I wanted to."
She walked a few steps away from him. For some reason she felt cold and ran her hands along her arms. She turned back to him knowing that as much as she was afraid of the answer, she still had to ask the question. "Am I the first minority girl you have been with?"
"What?" stunned Storm took a step towards her. "Sally, please start at the beginning and tell me what you're talking about."
"You know what I'm talking about..."
"No I don't. What the hell kind of question is that. 'Are you the first minority girl I've been with?' I don't date minority girls. I have date women of different cultures if that's what you're asking."
"We're not dating..."
"We would if you would let us date. I want to date you."
"Why, because I'm different from the rest?"
"Rest? Rest of who?" Taking a deep breath and running his hand in his hair, Storm strived for patience. "Sally tell me what's going on? What did you hear and from whom?"
"Just tell me..."
"Tell me Sally, now."
"Your friend or your sister's friend Megan said..."
"Okay, I've heard enough. God this is such bullshit." Storm ran his hand in his hair again as he looked up at the ceiling, "She's so fucking annoying. Sally, I don't care what she told you, she's lying..."
"She's lying because she told me about..."
"She's lying because she's had a crush on me since the seventh grade and it's fucking annoying." He moved to stand in front of her and took her face in his hands, "Sally, she's lying. She's has been trying to go out with me for I don't even know how many years now and I'm just not interested. I want to be with you."
"Until when?"
"What?"
"Until when? How long do you want to be with me for?"
Frustrated, "Do I need a time table or a schedule to make you cum?"
"Go to hell." She tried to walk away but Storm held her arm.
"Why do you keep running away like this? What was this, a comparison so you could make a final decision between me the other guy?"
"What other guy? What are you talking about?"
"The guy you were with at the club...when you saw Ayasha? Are you and he together now or were you trying to decide?"
"You know about Greg? Wait how did you know...are you following me?"
"No, I'm not," but Storm turned away when he answered her before turning back to her, "I saw you at the club. Ayasha had invited everyone out that night. So are you with him now?"
"If you're asking me if I slept with him, I didn't."
She turned again to leave and he caught her arm again. "Why do you keep running away from us?"
"There is no us..."
"There could be if you would let it. What are you so afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid."
"Yes, you are. You are terrified of anything more happening between us. Tell me you feel nothing when I kiss you. Tell me you don't want to me to touch you. Tell me you don't want to cum the way you did the last time. Tell me you don't want feel what you felt when we were together. Tell me you don't so I can tell you you're lying. I want to feel you again Sally. You know I won't hurt you but you keep running away from me. Stop running."
Sally looked at him shocked but scared. "I have to go."
Frustrated Storm yelled, "Fine! Go! Get the fuck out!" and turned his back to her.
***Conversation between Storm and his Aunt***
"Storm, there you are. And is it possible to visit me without a formal invitation?"
"Aunt Annette, you're beautiful as usual and you're still my favorite aunt."
"I'm your only aunt you devil. You father would be very disappointed in the way you treat his only sister."
"Laying on the guilt a bit too heavy Aunt Annetta?"
"Not at all if it'll get me more visits from you."
"Go on now."
Thanks for reading!
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*
If the heat that consumed them was from fire, then it could be said that what covering she did wear merely disintegrated from the intensity.
Kieren needed skin. He needed to feel her as close to him as possible. He needed the warmth that only Iona could provide. His body needed to touch hers, not just on the surface but on the inside. As his lips devoured hers mercilessly, Iona surrendered completely to the searching of his tongue and he reveled in what he found. To Kieren there was nothing sweeter than the taste of her, nothing more satisfying than the feel of her softness against his strength. This is what he had waited so long for. He felt her body answer the heart of the question that thundered within him.
"Are you mine?"
Iona's very being susurrated, "Yes."
Kieren could feel the hum of it sing to him as he laid her across the bed, his lips hungrily gliding down the column of her neck.
Iona had yearned for so long to feel the weight of his body atop hers. She had dreamt of it, visualized and imagined every possible scenario. And now, he was in her arms, the heat of him against the palms of her wondering hands. The shifting of sinew and honed muscle was now beneath her touch. Nothing she had ever foreseen could possibly compare to the actuality of what was happening. She knew from the first moment she encountered him that Kieren was like no other man. Yet, everything she thought she knew was still so little. On this night, Iona would bury her self within him, absorb all she could and emerge a new woman.
She drew her hands over the strength of his upper arms and the curve of his shoulders, feeling the grooves and the definition of his body. The tips of her fingers had just barely grazed the edge of the corded skin at his back when, with one swift movement, Iona found both of her curious hands held roughly above her head—pinned to the thick wood of the headboard by the vice-like grip of his own.
The wild blue of Kieren's eyes, the most heated portion of any flame, flashed.
Iona had no fear. She did not recoil from his threat. There was no part of him that she was not ready for. What she did not know, she was ready to learn. She had not forgotten about the markings on his back or her words. She had not forgotten about the anger that she had caused him. She knew that there would now be time to melt away anything that dared come between them. To this she was most dedicated.
However, if he thought the binding of her hands a deterrent, he was most mistaken. Her smile was wicked and laced with lust as she raised her face to his. She ran her cheek alongside the collection of fine hairs that spread from the line of his jaw upward. Instead of sharing a tender kiss of submission, her lips stopped short, barely touching his and Iona whispered, "You grew shabby while away from me."
Kieren raised an eyebrow, a look that she so loved. The look in her eyes was as dangerous as the look in his.
His cock twitched and grew harder.
"Thoughts of your displeasure make a man weary and careless with himself," he returned, placing his hands back where they belonged, on her body.
"Be not..." Her tongue reached out to taste his lips and she let the tip follow its line, "weary of me."
As she kissed him, Iona lost more than just her fingers in the thickness of his hair. Grabbing a section close to the root, she pulled. Accompanying the unexpected jerk of his head was now a bite to his bottom lip and the sexiest of purrs from her chest.
A primitive surge of ownership coursed through Kieren. He shifted his weight and slid his hand up over her rib cage. He felt the underswell of her breast and did not stop until its fullness rested in his palm. Then, he squeezed.
Iona moaned and arched her back.
Kieren smiled devilishly as he avoided her need for his lips and let his kisses fall back down her neck, then across her collar bone. His lips covered the peak of her breast after teasing it with his tongue. Pulling from it, he let her feel the threatening touch of his teeth.
Iona released a deep tortured moan, the sound of which hit Kieren's senses--sending another shocking alert down his spine and to the tip of his cock.
His returned growl, thick with frustration, was the only sign of how difficult it was for Kieren to suppress the wildness of his nature. This woman and the lushness of her bronzed body provoked him in the greatest of ways. But in the haze of his strong need, he knew that this was just a beginning, a door that he must ease open and they must step through together. The harshness of before must be erased from her mind. He wanted nothing to recall the memory of him that did not involve the joy of his touch, the pleasure of his nearness. This calmed and slowed him as he spread her legs wider with his own.
Kieren moved down her body skillfully. Each movement, touch, lick and bite was designed to heighten her desire. He was sensitive to her every response--no matter how small, and fed off them.
The feel of his tongue across her torso caused Iona to tighten and quiver uncontrollably. Just when she thought she might recover, she discovered that sensation was nothing compared to the feel of the next one. Running his tongue up her weeping slit and teasing her swollen lips was only a beginning. With his face between her thighs and the resting of her legs over broad shoulders, she was enraptured. Iona gasped for air when he dragged the texture of his tongue across her throbbing bud. When he sucked it in, her lips formed a perfect O and released a rush of air. When he flicked at it, the sensation was so overwhelming that she found remembering to breathe hard.
It was too much; she attempted to escape his delicious assault.
Kieren growled once again, hooked his strong hands firmly around her upper thighs to hold her steady, and increased his exploration. Finding her body's rhythm and recognizing the spots that guided her to the heights of pleasure gave him pleasure. Just when he felt her entire body constrict, on the cusp of climax, he pulled back—each time enjoying the control. Her sounds were intoxicating.
Iona felt as if she could die now, life could become no better. Even the graze of his teeth at her flesh, produced a unique panic that left her gripped by her own carnality. Just as she felt that she could no longer survive this over powering of the senses, when she could feel the oncoming fissures before the completeness of shattering, he would retreat—leaving her entire body pulsating in small waves that were infuriating promises that he was not finished.
"Please Kieren..."
Her mewling had made her voice weak but thick with passion, "I...I can bare this no longer."
Kieren laughed quietly.
"You would be amazed at what the body can bare." His voice was a rumble in his chest, low and promising.
"Kieren," she sighed.
"I love the sound of my name falling from your lips," he crooned before letting his tongue dive inside her.
When he looked up, Iona's eyes were tightly closed as she grabbed at the bedding. He could feel the beating of her heart with his tongue, her walls grasping and pulsating against it. He could taste this new sweetness as she came.
With deliberate gentleness he worked his way up her body, finally sucking and teasing each breast. This was done with great difficulty considering how her trembling affected him.
"What do you want Iona," he whispered, finally looking down into her glazed eyes.
She did not hesitate. Iona ground herself against his inflexible solidness.
Kieren had to close his eyes and fight himself harder. By capturing her lips, he steadied himself. When he finally pushed at her door, Iona was wide open and begging to be filled, to be completed.
Kieren paused for the slightest of seconds.
Iona pressed her heals into his back and gasped against his mouth. "Kieren," she cried out as he filled her in one swift movement.
The stretch around this invasion set every nerve in her body on fire. She buried her face against his neck and tightened the hold her arms had around him. She expected some pain. The joy of just having him inside her made her not fear but give in to it. Almost in tears, she once again called out his name.
To hear his name called out in such a way would have driven any man crazy. However, her cry was only a pale echo in Kieren's ears as he released a fierce roar of satisfaction. It rose up within him and shook his chest when he felt his thick head strike at the gate of her womb. The grip of her channel made him lose control. Before his descent, he had paused in expectation, but still he proved unprepared for just how good she felt to him. He was more than aware of what challenges his size presented to a woman. By her own admission, she was no virgin and he expected no sign of such. It was, however, obvious that Iona had only known lesser men. Although having no wish to inflict pain, Kieren reveled in that thought. It gave him pride. She was truly all his and this feeling compared to no other.
Kieren closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head in an attempt to gain more control.
He pulled back to search her beautiful dark eyes. They glistened, so wide and scared, searching his own.
"Trust me," he whispered to her, smoothing back her hair.
Iona did not become the one floating above, deadening her body as she waited for the experience to end. She did feel lightheaded and as if floating, but she was one with Kieren here and now. She did not want to even close her eyes for fear of missing one single thing. All of her participated in what this man was making her feel. All was different. She felt every part of her body fill with this man that lay between her thighs. She was dripping wet with expectations already surpassed, overheated in the pursuit of gifts yet to be given.
Her response was breathy and filled with raw emotion.
"I do," she declared, spreading her legs wider and drawing up her hips.
Kieren's hands immediately cupped her firm ass.
With a degree of gentleness alien to this man, Kieren made love to her. At the suctioning of the pull, Iona inhaled with a hissing sound. With the glide of the descent, she exhaled with a thick moan. Kieren enjoyed the sound of both as they found their rhythm together. With his lips on hers, he encouraged her with endearments and she met him in every way. She was so wet and sweet. The mounting of desire made it impossible for him to maintain this measured control. Soon he was pushing faster, deeper and harder with each thrust.
Iona was submerged in a wonderment of sensations. The ache and throbbing started to accentuate something new. A rush of pure freedom flooded through her body. The force of it took her breath away. The entire world was circling around her—faster and faster. She held on for pure life. His lips and tongue became more than delicious, they were necessary for survival. The way his body shifted above and against hers, giving and drawing satisfaction made her want to offer more, yet take as well. Kieren was so deep inside of her, pressing against parts of her that had never been touched and caressing those hidden places, all she could manage to do was feel. Her sounds were not even familiar to her. She clung to his powerful form to somehow anchor herself to time and space. He was now the creator of everything. She felt everything expand.
Suddenly Iona pulled her face from the crook of his neck and looked into the blue sea of Kieren's eyes in absolute shock.
Kieren gave her a gentle smile. He knew what she had yet to understand, and whispered, "Yes."
The very word seemed to reach across some unknown barrier within. It clamped down on her body and she shook fervidly, bursting open. Each muscle and nerve was brought alive. They constricted and expanded, to the powerful sound of her heart beating.
Before Iona had a chance to recover, Kieren rose up onto his knees, raising her up into him as he fucked her harder. Primal instinct overtook him. The words that left his lips were oaths of the old world, enflamed and guttural as he came.
The feel and force of what he emptied inside of her only amplified what had already engulfed her, sending fierce aftershocks. Iona was left barely conscious. Her legs were locked around him and her thighs trembled as he held her close. She felt the soothing of his lips at her temple and the security of his hands spread across her back. When he finally pulled out, she whimpered from the loss and tears eased down her cheeks.
With both hands cupping her face, Kieren rested his forehead against hers. Her tears concerned him and an odd sense of guilt made him vulnerable.
"Iona?" he whispered.
"I...love...you," was all she could manage to say with a weak and tender smile.
Kieren crushed her against him in relief.
In her lover's arms, Iona laid--draped across his chest and listening to the beating of his heart. She fell to sleep thinking that if there were Gods maybe they were finally smiling down on her. Kieren fell to sleep feeling like one.
**************************
In what she thought to be the morning, Iona opened her eyes and stretched. Never before had her body felt so ideally spent. She ached, yet the feeling was different from any ache she had borne before.
But, Kieren was gone.
Panicked, she threw her covers to the side and stood. Then, noticing that there was some type of an attempt to fold her things over the large chair, she smiled. Bath water had already been poured for her and still warm. A full bottle of her oil stood beside it. This was Kieren's doing and she loved it.
Soon Iona realized that it must be later in the day than assumed. She could hear the men, much too rowdy for their morning gathering before she had even entered the great hall. She was surprised to see them so wound-up. The hall was overly crowded and as she drew closer the noise was deafening.
Following the eyes of a few men, she knew that something unusual was happening at the hall's center. However, Iona could not see through them, and definitely not above them. Squeezing between the backs of those on the perimeter, she attempted to make her way to the kitchen. On the way, she thought she saw the color of Brenna's shift through a sudden repositioning of a few men. She forced herself in that direction. Two or three men looked down, realized who she was and moved to let her pass.
Finally standing behind Brenna, a bit sapped, she shouted over the ruckus, "What is going on?"
Once realizing it was Iona, Brenna laughed. "Why don't you see for yourself?"
She grabbed Iona's arm, threw her own weight around forcing a few of the men to have no choice but to move, and pulled Iona to the front.
Once Iona gathered herself, she looked at what was before her. Immediately, she covered her open mouth in horror.
"Could it be about you?" Brenna teased, close to her ear. "What reason could they possibly have?"
"Oh no," Iona shrieked, her chest tightening.
When Iona started toward the two men, Brenna quickly yanked her back. It was no easy deed. The girl was determined. Iona's strength could not match Brenna's.
"This is madness," Iona exclaimed. "I can't just let them..."
"Calm down girl." Brenna cut her off before she was overheard saying too much. "Everything is not about you."
Iona fought her nature and somewhat quieted, but now she was confused.
"You do not understand," Iona cried out.
"Not about you," Brenna emphasized the words as if disciplining a child.
"Then why is one seeking to murder the other?"
"I suppose it looks that way." Brenna turned her head sideways and considered the two men with another hearty laugh. Then she dismissed the idea with the hunching of her shoulders. "But Russ lives each time. Kieren spares him."
"Spares him? What would happen if Kieren decides to spare him no more?" Iona said, stunned.
"Then child, both men would die," Brenna said with reflective confidence, "one by the sword, the other by self-reproach."
Despite Brenna's words and obvious amusement, Iona watched in fear as the crowd roared on.
Kieren was holding Russ up by the front of his shirting now. Russ' feet were almost off the floor.
"Why did you not confer with Gunner for council then?" It was more of a command than a question.
"He would have found a way to negotiate," Russ struggled to answer. "Power was the question here brother, not the need for politics and its solicitous talk."
"You do not know wisdom when it is offered to you."
With those words, Kieren lifted Russ higher and threw him onto a table.
Russ immediately did a flip that left him standing at the far end. Kieren had already turned his back to leave when Russ did what Iona considered the unthinkable.
Iona screamed. If they did not kill each other, Iona thought; they would definitely end up killing a by stander.
Kieren's reaction was quick. He moved his head slightly to the side as the knife went by. He was turned around before the sound of the knife hitting the wall completed and he swiftly returned the favor with the distinct sound of something piercing the air.
Russ attempted to avoid it, but was caught. He looked at Kieren in disbelief, touching himself and then looking at his own blood.
From where Iona had stood, it had looked as if Kieren's aim was for the center of Russ' head. She was relieved when she realized it was just the top of his ear that had been grazed.
Kieren gave him a cruel smile.
Russ then jumped on a table in one sweeping movement. Steady on his feet, he quickly jumped onto another before propelling himself toward Kieren.
Kieren crouched low and as Russ flew over him, Kieren rose up beneath Russ, flipping him over and slamming him on another table—which then crashed to the floor.
The crowd went mad.
Russ took a minute to gather him. Before that minute had completed, Kieren was dragging him by one boot.
"You are guaranteed to be defeated if anger is the only thing that drives you brother," Kieren pointed out with his usual voice of authority and exemplary control.
Letting Russ go, Kieren stepped back, gifting his younger brother the time to stand.
An enraged Russ went for Kieren again, aiming for Kieren's waist. Russ somehow ended in a choke hold. The two moved so quickly. However, instead of fighting Kieren's hold, Russ moved into it.
"Long Sword," a few men shouted with support due to the smartness of the move.
The two battling men fell to the floor. It appeared that Russ was at some advantage from the way they had fallen. All Iona could see was a random lifting of a table or chair because of the cheering and jeering of the other men.
Suddenly the room silenced as both men rose with surprising caution, facing each other. Kieren held the tip of a dangerous looking dagger in his left hand and under Russ' chin.
Kieren then leaned forward and whispered in Russ's ear without removing the dagger.
Irritated, Iona thought, "Why is the man always whispering something in someone's ear--such drama? Could he not issue his threats aloud?"
Kieren removed the dagger from the throat of his brother and flipped it in the air, catching it by the butt.
The audience roared.
"I believe this is yours," he said, turning the knife as if for safety and handing it to Russ.
"I am the leader here. The power is mine to restrain or issue. I advise you to not forget that," Kieren announced over his shoulder as he calmly strode away. "And, your knife is top heavy. The sound it makes in the air is deafening."
With respect and awe, the men parted for him. Kieren disappeared down the passageway leading to his rooms. Only after he was out of sight did the men begin to speak again. Some began with "Did you see how..." Others just roared and hit each other on the back.
Iona noticed Gunner sitting at a table in the far corner of the room. Looking satisfied, he raised his mug to her with a rare smile. She glanced over at Russ, feeling sorry for him as he went to claim the knife still stuck in one of the large poles supporting the Longhouse. When she looked back at the still smiling Gunner, he then winked at her. It looked odd and left her perplexed.
"I think Russ has learned his lesson," Brenna said turning. "That was an interesting one."
"That's a cruel way to teach someone," Iona snapped.
"Oh it could have been much worse. No bones were broken. Well, it may have cracked his pride. It is good for Russ, The Great Long Sword, to get his handsome rump beat every once in a while. He learns better that way."
"Brenna?" Iona could not believe what she was hearing.
Brenna walked away with a hardy laugh.
"And, who does Kieren learn from?" Iona asked from behind her.
Brenna turned to the girl and searched her face with censored curiosity. She grabbed Iona by the chin and raised her face as if examining her. It reminded Iona of the first time they had met. Iona almost expected Brenna to ask her to show her teeth.
"Apparently, you," The old woman concluded, releasing the girl and laughing as only she could.
Starting toward the kitchen, Brenna added, "You look a little tired and heavily rode."
Two young girls giggled and followed Brenna.
Once again, Iona thought, Brenna had proven to be ill-mannered. She wanted to be mad, but the look the girls gave her made her face grow warm. She was blushing and glad to be of a darker type, so that the girls could not tell.
Bewildered, Iona now had a decision to make. Should she go to her room? Should she go to Kieren's? Would that be appropriate? Would he summon her? Should she instead concentrate on her chores? She decided instantly that she definitely was not going through the kitchen.
The men closed around Russ, removing him from her view. It would be inappropriate for her to go to him.
She knew what she wanted, although uncertain as to whether it was a smart idea or not. She wanted to be near Kieren. Despite the range of emotions she had just experienced, her body still felt the strong effect of his. Iona felt no shame in wanting to at least be in his vicinity—to be available. There was no shame in her feeling incomplete without him.
When she stepped into his room, he was nowhere. Deciding to stay and wait for him in his bed, she closed the door.
From behind, Kieren lifted her up by the waist. Iona panicked and fought to free herself.
"Calm down," Kieren laughed, letting her finally stand.
She turned to him and started hitting his bare chest with the flat of her hands.
"You are not amusing," she declared.
Enjoying the feel of him, Iona's hands soon slowed and appreciated the curves of his chest with admiration.
"You are sweaty," she told him, trying to appear serious as she looked up into his eyes.
The Gods should not have made such beautiful eyes, she thought.
Kieren kissed her deeply as he maneuvered her backwards. When the back of Iona's legs felt the bed, he left her no choice but to sit. He lowered himself so that they were eye to eye.
"What is this you are wearing?" Kieren inquired as he slid the edge of her linen skirting up her thighs.
His voice was sensual, yet serious.
"I am wearing what's worn by the women of this village," she returned, a bit nervous.
Under his encouragement, she lifted herself just enough for the materiel to be pushed up and her under skirting slipped beneath her bottom so that it all bunched up above her waist.
"Were the things I acquired not beautiful enough?" He removed her foot coverings one at a time as he spoke and let his hands smooth over the back of her calves.
"Yes, extremely beautiful". She loved the feel of his hands.
"Extremely beautiful, what?" he mocked.
Iona looked at him, confused.
He raised an eyebrow and Iona thought he had to be joking.
"Extremely beautiful...Sir," she surrendered finally.
Kieren laughed and began pulling her under clothes down her legs agonizingly slow, his skin touching hers in the most tempting of ways. Then he brought his attention back to her eyes.
"Thank you is my preference. Why do you not wear them?"
The smile had now left his lips.
Iona's voice wavered. ''They were too grand and too colorful. I wished to no longer stand out."
He tossed her underthings over his shoulder.
"You are not like everyone else." He ran his hands down her thighs as he spoke. "You were meant to stand out."
Iona was confused and at an unusual loss for words.
Kieren spread her legs apart and she felt the air hit her dampness.
"Don't you want to know why?"
"Why?" she returned, getting that lightheaded feeling again.
He shifted to his knees and directly between her thighs.
"You are mine," he whispered.
With relief, she mumbled her response. "I wanted the others to consider me fondly. I meant no insult."
Kieren's nearness made it impossible for her to think with any speed
"Is it not better to be respected than considered fondly?" he said before forcing her to lie back. "Why should you care for the thoughts of others in regards to my gifts? I am the only one that you should consider."
His mouth watered as he looked at what was revealed before him and he licked his lips.
Iona rose up on her elbows to look at him. But, the look he gave her made her return to the position he had put her in. An opening in his roofing had been propped so that the sunlight shown across her body.
She felt his two fingers spread her open, and sighed.
Kieren thought that the now exposed lovely flash of deep pink would forever now be his favorite color. Her pussy was a thing of beauty. He moved his head close and licked from bottom to the top of her gift with the flat of his tongue.
Iona gasped.
He pulled back and blew air across her sensitivity.
Iona squirmed a little.
Moving his lips closer again, he said, "I wish you to wear what I give you."
She felt the heat of his breath against her as he spoke, it was not a request.
When the tip of his tongue met the face of her clit, she jerked and said loudly, "I shall."
"Good girl," he said, licking her again--several times. "Will I ever have to reiterate my request?"
He then latched on to her firm nub and sucked.
Iona began shaking her head.
Kieren pulled back to look at her. She need not have looked at his face to know what he wanted.
"No," she said without hesitation, breathing hard.
Kieren returned his attention to the task at hand, licking and sucking. He pumped one finger, and then two inside of her—without his attention ever leaving that collection of fine nerves that was driving her mad. She was delicious.
Iona came two times before he made love to her.
When she opened her eyes this time, she found him not only there but resting on one arm watching her. There were no covers to hide behind. His beautiful body lay naked beside hers. Iona attempted to hide behind her hands.
"Of all the things revealed to me, you try to hide your face." Kieren kidded.
"How long have you been watching me?" she said embarrassed. "Do you ever tire?
"Not with you." His voice was smooth and tempting.
It was the way he had spoken to her last night and earlier. Nowhere did it sound similar to the voice that disciplined Russ.
"Hiding does not save you. For I have etched every detail of your face to memory, as I have your body." Kieren pulled her hands away.
He then began to tease an extended nipple with his forefinger. The effect made her body prepare to receive him once more. Iona was not sure if that was a good thing, she was a bit sore down there. But she knew that he could create ways that could make her forget that. She could not tell if she was disappointed or pleased when he stopped and began to play with a gathered strand of her hair.
He examined several before asking, "You placed some of these in my brother's hair?"
She could not tell by his voice what he was thinking. She truly hated that skill of his, to seem both interested and uninterested.
"Just a few," she returned, trying to be equally unreadable.
"Your heart has sped up," he stated calmly.
For that, Iona had no response.
"Do I make you nervous Iona?"
He used her name. The way he used her name made Iona a little scared and she narrowed her eyes. It amazed her how she could want him so and fear him simultaneously. Russ could possibly be a dangerous topic. Not being able to read his mood was not good.
Honesty was the only way to deal with this moment, she decided.
"No," she returned defiantly.
That, of course, was a lie.
"Come to it," she thought to herself. She hated how he took so long to reveal the result of things.
"I find the placement of these to be an intimate undertaking."
She wished he would stop playing with her hair and pulled away.
"Of course," he surmised, dropping his hand, "I could be wrong."
She still did not know what to say.
"I am however," his smile was roguish, "rarely wrong."
"Everyone is human," she finally said in a low voice, "and therefore fallible."
"Repeat this," he told her. "I did not hear you solidly,"
Iona knew that there was nothing wrong with his hearing, but said it again much louder.
"Yes, everyone is," he agreed, "some more than others."
Once again, she had no response as he picked up another twisted strand of her hair.
"Some are human and deceitful. That is a dangerous combination. Would you not agree?
"Please stop playing with my hair," she screamed in her head.
As if hearing her thoughts, Kieren leisurely pulled one twisted strand up in the air only to watch it drop.
"A person like that is consistent in their behaviors and one must be consistent in their mistrust of that person."
She watched him and he moved to his back to watch the beams of the ceiling.
"Have you ever encountered a person of this type Iona?" he said.
Iona slowly nodded her head.
Kieren sighed with disappointment.
"Yes," she then said.
"I seem to encounter those of that nature far too much in my life. Sometimes I ponder the idea that there must exist something within me that draws this type. What do you think Iona?"
Iona could bear it no longer. She sat upright.
"I shared a moment of weakness with your brother," she blurted.
"A moment of weakness, what exactly does that consist of?"
He did not change his position in the slightest and spoke with little urgency, a pure indication to Iona that he was quite aware of things.
She panicked.
"I was caught off guard. I was improper. We were improper." Putting her hands to her face, she began to cry. "I am regretful. Deceiving you was never my goal. You must forgive me. I am so ashamed of myself. That it was with your brother is more of an offense. It only happened once. I know that is no excuse. And, I..."
She continued to stumble in search of the right words. Surely she could make him understand? What must he think of her? She began to feel ill.
Finally she stopped babbling but continued to cry—prepared to receive her punishment. Life was consistently cruel. She had expected too much. And now, he was too angry to speak. Maybe he would beat her. After all he was a man and she nothing.
After a while, on the verge of hyperventilating, she dared look back at him through her fingers. He was watching her, but laid there looking bored.
Kieren wondered when she would stop prattling on. This was not how he expected the conversation to progress.
Iona dropped her hands, confused. Kieren then looked both irritated and amused. She was not sure if she should be humble or angry. His reaction left her dumbfounded.
"This is entertaining," he said dryly, suppressing a smile. "There is rarely anything that anyone would classify as appropriate when it comes to the behavior of my brother and I dare to wonder what you would define as inappropriate."
Iona narrowed her eyes at him and scoffed. "I am a joke to you?" she demanded before trying to make her way out of the bed.
To contain her, he locked her in his arms. Of course she attempted to break loose.
"Be still woman."
Iona managed to, somewhat, calm down.
"You truly present a convincing show of emotions with little prompting," he laughed. "Russ has already made me aware of your moment of weakness; we share all. It provokes no anger within me."
"You do not think less of me?" She was shocked.
"Why would I?"
She could think of many reasons why. Iona wondered what exactly had his brother said, but she could not hope for a better outcome. So, she was smart enough to know to let that be.
"Why did you feel the need to entrap me?" she conceded. "I would have confessed."
"Despite the fact that you have honed the act of lying, I am more than aware of its use when it comes from you."
"I am not a deceitful person, like the ones you mentioned," she amended.
"You are worse," he said in a much more sobered tone. "You are the most unpredictable among mankind and animal."
With that he let her go and repositioned himself, sitting up with his back resting against the massive headboard.
He placed a hand behind his head and crossed his feet.
She turned to him. Whether smiling as he was now or deadly, she had never seen a man so fine-looking. Her desire for him increased. She reminded herself though; she must focus on the task at hand.
Reading her thoughts, his smile grew wider. Iona felt heat sweep across her face.
"You are a woman of great beauty." He gently let the curve of his for fingers tease the skin of her back.
"You are also a survivor," he announced.
The way he said it, Iona thought, did not sound complimentary.
She suddenly rose up and straddled his lap. She placed her arms on his shoulders, letting her fingers play with the hair at his nape.
"I think that quality attracts you," she baited.
He squeezed her firm bottom.
"Maybe," he smiled, looking down between them. "Maybe it is another quality that attracts me."
Something occurred to her and her eyes grew wide.
Amused, he braced himself.
"You care not that we betrayed you?" She was stunned.
"I do not consider betrayal your purpose."
"Am I so unimportant that you share me with no emotion or consideration?" She placed her hands on his chest.
"How old are you?" he announced, complete in his amusement. "You plead for my forgiveness as if you were innocent. Next, you anger when I unburden you of anxiety in regards to the matter."
She watched him. He looked right back at her, his eyes questioning.
"Are you a woman or a child?" He finally said, smiling. Once again she was reminded of how handsome he genuinely was. She imagined that as a boy he must have been extremely mischievous. As a man she knew him to be deadly, she had heard the stories and seen what she had seen of him. She would not lie, she found that too attractive—what woman would not find pleasure in knowing they had attracted the ultimate of protectors. This playful side of him was her most favored.
Well, maybe not the absolute most.
"You thought me very much the woman a while ago," she returned, looking down at the divine example of how much a man he was. Even relaxed, it lay heavily against his solid thigh like some sleeping serpent.
"This is true." His smile broadened. "Now it occurs that I possibly assumed wrong."
Iona attempted to dismount him when he pulled her back to him by the hips.
"If you are shared with anyone, it would be by your choice only. It would also reveal a major lack of concern for your chosen other partner. I am a selfish man at heart. What is mine, I have and I keep." As he spoke, his amusement disintegrated and his voice grew more serious. "Be assured, I would end his life."
There was silence between them as there was no need for Kieren to say more or Iona to reply. She had heard all is words, but the one "mine" left her mesmerized. She was his.
"Besides," he finally returned to his amused state, "I mistreated you and you had need for affection. Why should that need not have been answered? I am quite sure that my brother was very accommodating."
Iona looked into his eyes and there was truly no malice. This drew more love from within for him. With his face between her hands she kissed him deeply.
But a thought crept across her mind and she suddenly pulled away.
"And you, where did you fulfill your needs?"
Kieren smiled devilishly. Then he caught her wrist as Iona's made a meager attempt to slap him.
"How this conversation has shifted," he mused with sarcasm. "You fulfilled your need, am I not given the same consideration. After all, I am a man with many appetites."
"Maybe you should have stayed where your needs and appetite were fulfilled," she spit out.
"I plan to," he returned bluntly, wrapping his arms around her and making her surrender to his lips. "You shall never be rid of me."
"This is like a dream to me," she confided.
"Well then," he teased, "be certain that it is only I that you dream about. Next time I may not be so forgiving. My brother can prove very convincing when mood hits. Russ shall be Russ."
"I am truly only yours," she said with girlish sincerity.
"I have no fear that it will happen again, my little survivor. You are no fool. I am the teacher here. He is the student.
"Your arrogance is unmatchable as well," she slipped him a smile, shaking her head.
"As is all of me," he said taking her hand in his, kissing her palm and guiding it to encircle his substantial and demanding staff.
Iona could make comparisons when it came to the beauty of his cock, but she had never actually touched one. And Kieren's was so intimidating. The sight and feel of him made her swallow hard, but she closed her eyes and let herself relax into the guidance of his hand. His hand caused her to squeeze him firmly while moving up and down his shaft. When he removed his hand and left her to her devices, her eyes immediately flew open to find him watching her curiously and placing his hands back behind his head.
She suddenly became aware of her inexperience with pleasure and fearful of disappointing him. She could feel the color flood her cheeks.
"I," she said shyly, "am not a virgin, but..."
"What need do I have for virgins," he said gently.
"Well," she began, flushed.
He gave her a look of alert weariness, misunderstanding her alarm. This was not the time to discuss what she had seen of him, or for her to assume what he wanted from her based on the things seen.
"I, this body that sits here before you," he began, putting his forehead to hers and cupping the side of face with one hand and the back of her head with the other, "as damaged as it is, am yours."
His voice rasped with emotion, sounding low and deeper than ever. "I am only yours and you are safe with me. This between us is between only you and me. I care for no other woman. I remember no other. You are mine to discover and explore as I am yours to discover and explore. We will learn each other in a way we have not taken time to do before."
Kieren's kiss reemphasized his words.
This moment, this closeness was another feeling entirely new. To have him say those words and see the ocean in his eyes, to feel this with another person—especially this person, made her heart open even more. Iona closed her eyes, kissed him deeply in return and firmly wrapped the fingers of both her hands around his cock. The sound he made inflamed the growing warmth that had begun building inside of her, giving her a tingling sensation. Then she felt him jerk in her hands and she jumped, letting it go.
Kieren rested back on his arms and chuckled at the squeal she emitted. Then, he let out a sharp intake of air as her thumbs lightly grazed the sensitive flesh of his dome. His penis was very erect now. She looked at it, staring openly. She thought of how he had said he had memorized her body; she wanted to memorize this part of him too. She was surprised by how much she actually wanted to touch it and how its twitching incited her to keep going. His penis was long and so thick, riddled with twisting veins. She had never noticed how detailed it was before. And now that she was so close, like this, looking down as it reached up between them; it seemed enormous.
Tenderly, Iona brushed the length of it with her finger tips. She was pleased by the silky texture, the steel-like firmness beneath the surface and the way it also pulsed against her palms with throbbing warmth.
When she dared to glance at Kieren's face, he was looking right back at her, his eyes so clear and pleasure so obvious. The feeling of her exploration sent shivers up and down his spine and straight to the point where she touched.
She returned her attention back to the monster in her slender hands. She adjusted herself and wrapped both hands around the dancing cock. She applied pressure and tried to remember how he had at first guided her. Slowly, she began stroking the length of him. As she ran her hands up over the swollen head and back down over it again, squeezing gently she was rewarded with his low moan.
She looked back again to him sitting with eyes closed and head back. His lips slightly parted. Iona took heart and repeated the long slow stroke a few more times until his breathing became ragged.
She watched his face, fascinated by the almost pained expression there. Kieren's eyes opened into hers. They were so crisp and fluid in their color, almost silver now and full of energy. It was a different sort of blue. Iona recognized his lust, but never before had his gaze so sufficiently seared her. She turned her eyes away, unable to stand that look for long. Her hands had already increased their pace in response without any urging. Her thighs contracted in time with her hands. She tried to still them, but found it impossible.
Kieren's hips slowly rose to meet her hands. As she ran her hand over the moisture forming at the mushroomed tip, she found it slick and it allowed her to move more easily over him. Watching intently while her hands slid over the smooth flesh she thought of how this liquid might taste. She had felt the joy and heat of it inside her. That was something she could never forget. The thought of putting her mouth to him thrilled her.
Kieren's eyes went wide as she stopped to reposition herself back on knees between his opened legs and bent down to lick the tip of him. Leaning in she lapped from base to tip, eliciting a gasping moan from him.
It was strange, but it was also extremely exciting touching him so intimately. Tasting him--the saltiness of the see, a sweetness and the taste of what she could only define as sunlight—made her squeeze her thighs tighter causing a hot throb to course through them. Licking around the swollen head, she pressed her lips against the tip and slowly took him into her mouth. Pulling as much inside her as possible. Stretching her jaw as wide as she could, she did not get far before she was forced to stop and let out a choked groan. When he pressed against the back of her throat, she was not expecting the feel of it. Her groan was accompanied by a low growl from above.
She looked up. He was watching her again, his eyes burning into hers. This time she didn't look away, and let them sear into her making her tremble and her hands, still wrapped around his cock, shake. With his size, when her mouth moved on him--sliding rhythmically and automatically over his now slick head, she worked them as well.
One of Kieren's hands threaded through her hair and cupped her head. He tried not to apply any pressure. She was doing fine by herself. What the girl lacked in skill she made up for in enthusiasm. She was truly made for him. But, he could only constrain himself for so long. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he gripped her hair and pulled it taut against her skull. A shock of sensation that was not quite pain shot through her and Iona groaned low in her throat, the vibration of which made Kieren shudder.
Iona moaned again, intentionally, loving his gripping expression. She reveled in the feel of her own power. The harder he pulled her hair and the more he growled, the more ferocious she became. She devoured him with her tongue and hands.
He pumped his hips against her mouth and she gripped his thighs to steady herself as she felt him stiffen even more against her tongue. She let out one more moan before he gasped and gave out the thickest of growls. Iona felt a pressure in her mouth and it was suddenly filled. She nearly gagged and had to swallow several times to keep from choking, finally pulling away with a gasp to see the remainder still leaking from the tip. She blinked up at him taking heavy breaths.
Kieren looked down at her swollen, wet lips as she panted. With the fingers of his hand still gripping her hair, he pulled her to him and kissed her. Never before had she looked as beautiful as she did at that moment to him.
This woman was truly made for him.
**********************************
"I said that I would come to the river and that we would watch the rise of the moon, not actually get in the water," she said with her hands on her hips.
Kieren stood closer to the edge of the river. He had been eating an apple and slung what remained into the water.
"Enjoy me why you can woman," he chuckled. "The next few days will give me little time. I have to meet with the clans."
He looked back at her and smiled. "I want to enjoy you in the water."
"No," she said smoothing out a blanket of wool and plopping down on it non-ceremoniously.
He came and stood closer to her, leaning against a tree. His hair rustled by the light breeze, tended to curl which she did not believe that she noticed before. He wore looser fitting clothing than he had on the Knarr. A shirt of colored linen hung open, revealing the magnificence of his chest. His britches were slung low. He looked free-spirited and more relaxed, in spite of the knife holstered in leather and tied to his leg. She did not know where the small one he had cored the apple with came from. She figured that he could never completely be without the marks of his profession. The stillness found him restless and alert.
Iona suddenly wondered if he knew that this was where she had had the moment of indiscretion with Russ. Something about the look in his eyes when she looked up at him told her that he did.
"You are awful," she scolded him.
"I guess I do not measure up, no cheese and drink to tempt you with."
"Yes," she teased, adjusting her smock, "and I was forced to bring my own blanket."
When she heard no response from Kieren, she looked up concerned. He laughed at her expression. She looked so young, her lovely, full lips fixed in a permanent smile. Her dark hair was pulled from her face and fastened in the back with a colorful strip, flowing down her back. She glowed in the light of the early evening. Soon the sun would go and the moon would come. He wished there was some way he could extend these moments.
Kieren had not been making light of the fact that the coming days would keep him away from her. With the successes of his voyage, there was much to do. He had also been at sea for quite some time, ignoring many happenings amongst those he administered to and the lands he oversaw. There were disputes to be settled and the grave matter in which Russ had misjudged.
"Come lay with me," she requested.
"You'd think you would have enough of our laying," he teased, "I thought to give you a break."
"Never," she told him opening her arms to receive him.
He laid down and placed his head in her lap, chewing on what appeared to be a sweet stem. Iona began to play in his hair.
"How old are you," he inquired, looking into her eyes, "truly?"
"Twenty-four," she stated bravely.
"I said truly," he scoffed.
She looked a bit bewildered.
"You don't know?"
"I count nineteen winters, maybe more." She gave him the most contented of smile. "I know that I am a woman."
"You certainly are that."
"And, your age?"
"Much older than yours," he laughed.
"Definitely a man," she added joyfully.
"There," she said showing him the effort that she put into his hair. "It will not stay however.
"Were you this close when you placed them in Russ' hair?"
"To do someone's hair is not so intimate of an act. I once undid and re-braided the one at Gunner's chin. I placed the beads that he now wears at the end of it."
"Oh," he snorted. "I bet that was fun."
"He was drunk, I believe, and now very upset with me that it cannot be easily removed," she laughed.
"Brunner can be a bugger of an old man. He claims that you personally set out to exasperate him."
"He's a big baby."
"You have us all wrapped around you small fingers." He took one of her hands into his and felt the braid she placed in his hair with his other. "Shall I be beaded as well?"
She laughed, "If I can find the right ones for you."
"You must put more of these in my hair than you have in Russ'," he finally demanded.
"Are you serious?" She could not believe what she was hearing. It was endearing though. "I would have hated to have had to grow up with the two of you. Your relationship with your brother is beyond complicated. I fail to understand. I bet your father had his hands full."
"For all intents, I must say that Brunner is the father I remember. The Magnus Gulbrand was quite...busy."
"Well, I bet he..." she began.
"I think that you should put many more in my hair," Kieren cut her off, pretending to look offended, "considering."
"Kieren," she exclaimed, looking into his eyes. But, she could see that his seriousness was light.
Iona kissed him playfully.
"He is forgotten the moment my eyes set upon you."
"And when I am not in your vision?" He turned more serious, touching her face.
"Even when I do not see you my mind does constantly."
"Good answer." Kieren laughed and she hit at him.
"Your words are like honey, too sweet. They are slippery too. One must be quick to catch them."
With that he stood and began to remove his shirt. Iona could tell that she was in for trouble. But before she realized to what extent, fully naked he lifted her up as if she weighed nothing. He took her, clothed, kicking and screaming, into the water. Taking her under and then tossing her into the deeper part was equally effortless.
Kieren laughed until he realized that Iona was flailing, desperately trying to keep herself above water. He also could see that she was failing.
With no haste, she felt his strong arm draw her above the water. With the other he pulled them toward land.
His words were angry when he sat her down—even though she coughed heavily to relieve her lungs of water.
"Why did you not tell me that you could not swim?" Kieren demanded. "What Greenlander knows not?"
"I am neither male or a Greenlander," she yelled back at him, her anger due more to embarrassment than anything else. "My master lived inland, tired of the wanderers life. He farmed. Where was I to learn to shred water?"
"Surely you were near some type of water?"
"Your ocean is not everywhere Kieren!"
He was angry and she did not want that at all. It was not his fault that she lacked such a necessary skill. They had spent too much time angry with one another.
"I don't know how to swim, okay."
Kieren turned away from her to collect himself. She had caused an unusual panic within him.
Feeling better, Iona slipped out of her dress and began to wring it out. She started to explain to him how she thought to learn before his return, to even teach herself but the situation never seemed to present itself. After a while, she realized that Kieren was listening but not to her. He was looking in her direction, but not at her.
He had a strange look on his face.
"Keep talking," he told her in a low voice, "but listen to what I am about to tell you carefully."
Something was wrong.
Iona continued to talk, saying mostly things already said. She understood that it was not for his benefit but for whomever he thought listening.
"In your mind as you talk," he told her, "I want you to slowly count to five. Then that tree there, I want you to press yourself to the other side of it and cling to it closely. Be silent and do not move."
With that, he moved swiftly. He picked up his weapon and disappeared. Iona clung to the tree as she was told and squeezed her eyes shut--as if that would cause her to disappear as well.
When she opened her eyes, she snuck a look over the water. What she saw on the other side shocked her and made her catch her breath. Maybe the distance was playing tricks on her eyes. Maybe it was the approach of night. Iona blinked to see clearer.
It was the Dark Man, looking directly at her. He was scantily dressed, but she was sure that it was him.
From out of nowhere Kieren rose up out of the water. If the Dark Man would have not dropped to the ground in defense, Kieren's weapon would have split his skull. The man quickly returned to his feet and faded into the trees. Kieren disappeared back into the water.
Iona secured the position she had been told to keep, eyes forced shut.
She remained silent as she was told. What if something was to happen to Kieren, she thought? Iona's heart would stop. She could not live without him. She would not want to. Of this, she was certain.
Time passed slowly. Everything was oddly quiet as day shifted to night.
"You failed to obey me."
Kieren's whisper in her ear startled Iona. There had been no indication of his approach. With the realization that it was him, she turned around and flung her arms around his neck. He did not allow her to take hold of him, but handed Iona her things.
He avoided looking at her as he slipped back into his clothing. When he shook out the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, that simple show of care made her sigh with relief.
"The setting of the sun brings coolness," he told her from behind, with his gentle hands briefly upon her shoulders.
He started off in the direction they should go. When she did not immediately follow, Kieren paused and turned slightly.
Looking very much the warrior god, his shirt clinging to his wet body and hair still dripping water, he waited.
Iona needed him to look at her.
Their eyes met.
Although his facial expression showed nothing, even the set of his jaw was not flexed, she saw the ice of anger shine in his eyes.
"Come Iona," he commanded. "This is neither the place nor the time."
She lowered her head and fell in step behind him.
To be continued.
|
Sally wheeled her bike to the end of the road and stopped. It would take less than a minute to change shoes, get on the bike and leave but she hesitated. Looking back, she also realized it would take less than five minute to tell him how she felt.
her conscience remarked. Sighing, she turned back.
Storm had his back to the door. He glanced back at it least twice already trying to convince himself that there were so many other women he could have at the snap of his fingers.
his conscience piped in. He didn't have any proof, but his gut instincts told him Sally wouldn't change who she was just to appease him. He knew she was scared, scared and attracted to him, and he wanted her with him tonight. But Megan had to fuck up his plans with her childish school girl crush.
For the last two months, he had not stopped thinking about her. The desperate want to touch her again took over every rational thought.
"Fuck!" he muttered as he headed for the door. He was going to bring her back and they were going to talk about what happened between them.
As soon as Storm opened the door, he found his path blocked by Megan, wearing a long coat and smiling flirtatiously. She reached for him but Storm took two steps back which allowed her entry in the house. Megan then dropped her coat and stood in front of Storm naked, wearing only her strappy Jimmy Choo's.
"Meg..." Storm began but was cut off as she threw herself at him and began to kiss him.
Storm grabbed her arms and pushed her away from him only to look behind her at the open door to see Sally watching the entire scene.
"Sally! Sally! Wait!" Storm yelled as Sally retreated into the night.
He moved to go around Megan but she grabbed his arm. Storm pulled his arm up breaking her hold as he turned to her and yelled, "Get off me Megan and leave me alone," then going after Sally.
"Sally! Sally wait! Just hold on a sec," he said catching up to her and reaching for her arm.
She wrenched her arm from his grasp, "Leave me alone..."
"Stop! Come back inside..."
"I'm not coming anywhere near you or her. Go back to her..."
"No...you came back. Don't do..." getting frustrated, he grabbed her arm tightly and began pulling her back up the driveway.
"Let me go! Let me go!" Sally yelled but Storm ignored her.
Entering the house, he noticed that Megan was still standing in his foyer naked. Sally stopped squirming when she saw Megan and watched as Storm grabbed Megan's arm, walked her to the door, shoved her out and slammed the door behind him. Turning back, Storm noticed Megan's coat was still on the floor. Remembering that she was naked, he grabbed the coat, opened the door, threw it at her and slammed the door again. This time he locked it and set the alarm, all the while retaining his hold on Sally's arm.
"Storm, stop this," Sally yelled as she struggled to get away from him.
She managed to get an arm free and turned to leave but Storm grabbed her around her waist. Lifting and carrying her to his bedroom, he dropped her on his bed where she began to struggle, hitting and kicking to be free.
"Stop it Sally," Storm commanded but she wasn't listening.
He tried to grab her hands but couldn't get a grip so he flipped her on her stomach trapping her hands beneath her. But Sally got a hand free and elbowed him in the stomach. Storm grunted and moved back slightly. With the space, Sally turned over and raked her nails along his left peck.
"You bitch!" he yelled jumping back from her as she got up and backed away from him.
Seeing her look at the door for her escape, Storm very slowly walked to the door and slammed it shut then closed it with the electronic lock. Looking at the fear in her eyes, he barely acknowledged her as he walked to his bathroom. He heard when she went to the door, trying to get it open but the lock on his bedroom door was now in sync with the house alarm. It was an extra security feature he had ordered built into the system when it was being installed.
He came from the bathroom with strips of cloth. He tied one at each of the small post at the bottom of his bed and the third he tied at the middle of his headboard. He was shirtless and like a predator stalking a prey, he watched as Sally moved to the corner of the room, looking for another way to escape. Her dress was hanging off one shoulder and he looked at her as he undressed, the angry red scratches now plainly visible on his chest.
"Come here Sally," he said softly but kindness was not in his eyes.
"Storm, I'm sorry. Please let me go. Please."
"Not tonight."
"Please...please let me go. I won't say anything..."
"I can't, not tonight. Come here Sally."
He took a step towards her and she took one back just to be stopped by the wall at her back. She tired running past him but he easily caught her around her waist and lifted her off the ground. He moved her quickly to the bed where he tied her hands above her head. He tied one ankle to the post but when he reached for the other leg, she pulled it in closer to her body. He knew she was going to kick him so he followed her leg in but she kicked out sooner than he anticipated and the kick caught him dead center in his stomach. Angrily, Storm gripped her foot and pulled it to the other post, wrapping the tie around it twice. He crawled over her and began pushing her dress up then up her arms as far as it would go, keeping it wrapped around her already bound hands.
Storm looked down at her. Her bra was a deep décolletage black lace and stain and her breast looked simply divine in it. He told himself to buy her more just like it. Her underwear was a lace styled deep vee which only came up to the top of her pubis but covered most of her ass which gave her a sexy decant boudoir look. He cut away her bra and panties and she gasped. When she saw him looking at her, she looked at the ceiling.
Storm sat beside her on the bed trying to understand how he could be both calm and angry at the same time. He always had tight control over his emotions. He always knew how he felt, what he would do; but for the first time he didn't. Sally never played by his rules and the only time she'd allowed him to see a side of her that wasn't fully guarded was the one night they made love. He was overjoyed she had not been with the other guy but who was he kidding, he wouldn't have let her go even if she had. Where he could have easily walked away from another woman, he couldn't with her. His calm was because she was there and his anger was because he had to fight her to be there. Somehow he had to get her to realize they were worth taking a chance on...he wanted that chance.
He turned to her and saw her looking at him but said nothing. Her breathing had calmed greatly but she kept a wary eye on him. He couldn't blame her after all she was tied to his bed naked. Storm decided to rectify that and stood and dropped his underwear to the floor. Now they were both naked in his room and on his bed, just the way he wanted. He moved to stand at the foot of the bed and looked down at her. Her body was shaking slightly and she was trying to pull her legs together but to no avail. She was left open for his viewing pleasure and what a pleasure it was he thought.
He bent down and kissed the top of her feet. A kiss so gentle it was almost as if it didn't happen. He did it again and again moving slowly up her leg until he came to the junction of her thighs and moved up to kiss the hollow of her stomach to her breast. He teased and sucked a nipple in to his mouth and twirled his tongue around the hardness. He moved up to her neck and kissed along her jaw to her ear.
"I want to taste you. You smell delicious," he whispered softly in her ear.
He heard her gasp and he smiled. He kissed her eyelids close and before kissing her other cheek, then her nose and then her chin before kissing along her jaw to her other ear.
"I want to feel how soft you really are."
He felt her shiver and kissed her ear before taking the lobe into his mouth and sucking on it until she moaned. He began moving down her body again, this time along the opposite side he came up, along her ribs, and the indentation of her waist before moving to the inside and down her legs. He moved back to the junction of the legs, wrapped his arms underneath her legs and over her mound interlacing his fingers. He then rested his chin on the top of his interlaced finger and took a deep breath of her.
He waited, knowing that curiosity would get the better of her and smiled when she looked down at him. He had won the first battle of wills. She looked away quickly. Her stomach quiver and she once again pulled on her restraints, testing their security. She was aroused and the heady smell of her was intoxicating. He unlaced his fingers and opened her to him. She was wet and slowly, with the tip of his tongue, Storm reached out and gathered a taste of her. Sweeter than he imagined she would be, he closed his eyes and savored her flavor. He didn't miss the pull of her hips back from him as much as she could or the arch of her back at the feel of his tongue. Steadying her hips, he licked her again, this time much deeper than before.
"Oh God, please..." Sally pleaded.
Storm listened but continued his administration. He tasted her body as if it were a source of sustenance. He pulled her clit into this mouth and flicked the tip of his tongue on it over and over not allowing her desperately moving hips to dislodge him from his task. The more he tasted the more he wanted, feeling drugged and when she exploded he drank more of her, feeding on her nectar.
Her quivering body calmed and he kissed her stomach moving upwards. Everywhere his lips touched her skin jumped as if shocked. When he kissed her chest, he could hear her rapidly beating heart. "Do you want to know how you taste?" he whispered in her ear as he pressed his erection into her stomach purposefully. When she looked up at him with dazed eyes, he knew the fight was all but gone from her. "You taste amazing...sweet and warm, like freshly made honey." She swallowed heavily and her lips parted so she could breathe. "Here, taste," he said right before he kissed her deeply, pushing his tongue against her teeth to gain access to her mouth.
She gasped and her soft lips molded to his perfectly. Just the feel of her tongue licking, sucking on his made him moan into her mouth and want to devour her more. He pushed himself on her, rubbing his hard member on the top of her mound, teasing her clit. He felt her hips tilt up to him, trying to make contact and he slowly rocked back and forth, getting her more aroused. Squeezing himself on her pubic bone he leaked out on her stomach before pulling back and aligning himself with her entrance. He buried himself to the hilt in one fluid thrust.
his mind preened while his body felt like it was finally home. He remained still, savoring the sensations flowing through his body while allowing the tension in her to subside.
She breathe out and he smiled against her lips and watched her as he slowly pulled out and pushed back in again. She gasped and pulled at the binds and he knew she felt the same intense feeling he had also. Over and over he teased her, pulling out slowly only to push back in hard, the feeling of moving inside her pushing and pulling him to the edge of bliss. But he wouldn't go, not without her. He wanted to share the heaven he had found with her. He watched her struggle for breath as the sensations heightened and he himself didn't know how much longer he would last.
Taking a shallow breath, she called out to him, "Storm."
"Do you want me to stop?" but she just looked at him, her eyes desperately searching his if he would be so cruel. "Do you?" he asked again and he watched as she shook her head 'no.' He leaned into her, kissed her cheek before whispering in her ear, "You feel so fucking good." She moaned.
He kissed her again, ravenously, drinking from her lips, trying to quench his thirst and she returned his kiss just as ardently. His hardness moved inside her hard and dominant, forcefully as her contraction made him crush the sheets beneath his fingers. He plundered on through her orgasm with his head down to his chest and his eyes closed in a futile attempt to concentrate. He couldn't look at her anymore as too many of his sense were focused on her: seeing, hearing, feeling; instead he closed his eyes and listened to her scream as her orgasm flowed through her. Watching her experience it was just too beautiful.
Her grip on him eased even as he slid in and out of her smoothly. She arched her back again, trying to pull her pelvis back in an attempt to escape him, but Storm drove into her harder, his body on a mission not to be alone in the frenzy. He kissed her neck and sucked on the skin there. She cried out to him and he felt her tighten again. This time he would join her.
"Storm..." she pleaded, "Please...please."
A tear ran from her left eye into her hair and he understood how acute the feeling was because he was experiencing the same. Again she tugged at her binds hoping she could break the hold. But Storm rose above her and balancing his weight on his arms, bent his knees slightly for more leverage while looking into her glossy, pleading eyes. Dropping his head in the bend of her shoulder, he pushed into her over and over again, determined to bring them both to the release they both so desperately wanted and needed.
"You're almost there sweetheart," he whispered hearing her barely audible plea of his name. "Come with me baby. Come with me."
And she did screaming his name as her body went taunt and contracted on him, holding on to him with everything in her. Storm pushed back in holding himself still and emptying himself inside her, screaming into her neck.
"Sally, fuck....ugh."
It took some time for him gather the strength to roll from her. About ten minutes later he leaned over to try and pull the ties but they were now too tight so he took the knife and cut them from her wrist and ankle. Laying back he waited for her next move and smiled when she laid her head on his chest. He felt her relax when he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
Thanks for reading.
|
Iona honestly felt that she had done nothing wrong. Regardless, she did feel a tremendous amount of guilt eating away at her. Not only had she seen this man of darkness a total of three times now, she also was relieved that he had managed to not lose his life. She had no idea why he was still in the vicinity. Theirs was more or less just a meeting of the eyes, for her a simple fascination—a witnessed anomaly of sorts. However, that was something she sensed Kieren did not believe.
Kieren said nothing on the unusual and longer route they took to return, other than a sharp, "watch your step", or "hold on". He would occasionally take her arm. Frustrated by the awkwardness of her progress, he lifted her completely off the ground when necessary. But, he released her quickly. She spent most of the time looking at the expanse of his back and trying to avoid tripping with nothing but the moon to light her step.
She said nothing, not that she could. Keeping up with Kieren as they covered ground that he easily maneuvered left her struggling to breathe. Besides, the scene-Kieren rising from the water as he did, the way he held the two-edged weapon over his head, hurling it through the air. And, the way the water glittered, so calm at first and then full of life, was a thing of beauty and yet beyond belief. It was the Kieren the Skalds sat around the fire at night and told stories about. It played itself in slowed motion over and over in her mind. First, she saw the eyes of the Blåmenn, glowing with intensity against the almost blueness of his skin and focused so completely on her. Then Kieren, the flexed muscles of his arms and shoulders glistening in what light of the day was left, fierce with the intent of taking a life.
It made no sense. Had Kieren and the man had an exchange she had not witnessed? Why did both Kieren and Russ respond so to him?
With this new route, once the trees cleared, they approached the village by way of what Iona called Kieren's wall. It was not an actual wall, but gave her that impression. The separate dwellings were so closely packed together that they could be considered a wall aligning itself and meeting an ark shaped rampart that ran to the cliffs that hung over the bay. On one side of the wall was a stretched strip of land with random huts and homes made from turf, housing a few of Kieren's men. The village itself lay on the other side. Nature left no access from the sea and Kieren's wall limited any access from the forest. General public traffic was smoothly diverted from the grouping even within the village. It had a defensive feel to it that Iona was only recently beginning to fully understand.
What belonged to Kieren bore his mark and stylings. These particular dwellings were no different. Kieren's buildings were constructed with fine timber, with low bowed sides meeting rectangle roofs that reminded you of capsized longboats. At the height of the inverted V, on the ends, the wood crossed in a way that looked like a projecting animal. In Kieren's case, the animal had a definite focal feature. It was a crude and menacing bird. Not many of the typical village homes, even that of artisans, compared to the main Longhouse and its immediate, surrounding smaller longhouses or what Iona referred to as the wall.
What bore Kieren's stylings consisted of a mixture of accommodations for his people-his men, their families, and a few craftsmen (mainly notable metal workers). There were also structures strictly built for storage. Quite by accident, Iona had discovered that an underground web of passageways connected most of them.
Iona was sure that the main and largest Longhouse, which although housing Kieren's rooms was more or less most dedicated to the assembling and feeding of his favored men, was also connected to the passages. That would make sense. But, Iona just had not found it yet. She was also aware that the hidden network was not common knowledge to the villagers.
There was a definite, organized grid to the layout of the village too; she was certain of it. It was subtle in that it did not interfere with the relaxed feeling of general village life, with its families and workers buying and selling. But, it was not so subtle in that it had a purpose. Even the placement of where animals were collected was suspicious to Iona.
To the west of the village was the natural harbor. That allowed access from the sea, but only the invited dare enter. It was where workshops and such were close to the waterfront. Stone jetties with ships being repaired by building workers were there. Metal workers were there as well. As one moved further inland, routes led to the hills, dense woods or to the village. Beyond the woods, and in the hills, Iona assumed there were outlaying farmsteads and tributaries to the river. The river eventually just led back to the sea.
The entire village, as well as the bay itself, could be easily shut down, controlled by Kieren's men if need be. Iona felt that what was disguised as a thriving, colorful town and welcoming trading center was mainly a training camp and protected fortress belonging to none other than Kieren himself.
The village had its original and common name, as did the bay. But no one referred to either by such. They referred to the village as The Eagle's Head. And the bay, she had heard its name called the Bay of Fire.
It was rare that she, even with what status she held, left or entered the village by any other means than the common public entry way-which mainly led to the market square and then sprouted off. It was the only open and free way to leave and enter the village. But she was with Kieren now. He had avoided that route when leaving and was using an even more unknown route to return.
So, she was not surprised when they entered a passageway which led to what appeared to be just a simple home. He spoke briefly to one of his men. Iona was cordial to what appeared to be the man's woman. The woman looked scared to death of her, but offered ale. It was no one she recognized. Then, Iona was separated from Kieren. He did not bother to look in her direction when he departed.
Kieren was in a different mode and Iona realized it best to be quiet and submit to his orders. Luckily, she soon found herself on familiar ground, being led by three men to the Longhouse-and to Brenna, whom she desperately needed the guidance of.
Everything was quite active and still busy in the village. The streets were lit up. Music could be heard. Children still ran playing and waving long thin sticks with glowing tips while being shushed away from the fires.
The village came alive in a different way with the presence of Kieren. Iona had thought that during the day, but night brought on another type of unique festive mood. Normal for the season was the increase in traders and barterers, and all that they attracted, as summer began to come to its end. With it, was the infusion of more men and what came to entertain them. Everything combined and flowed into the streets. Laughing, singing and drinking abounded. Men were rowdy, women too, in their celebratory spirit. Life with Kieren made them all wealthy. Men wore their decorations and woman wore their gifts.
Vendors sold food late into the night. Wagons of drink were constantly being unloaded. Houses of various sizes and distances from the street with their long axes and rough angles opened their doors. The huge wooden double doors to the Longhouse were left wide open too and men filled the main area. They drank mead and spoke boisterously to one another as women danced on top of tables.
No one paid any attention to Iona's return or the closeness of her guards. She knew exactly where they were leading her, but broke off to go her own way. She discovered that the choice was not hers to make. When she attempted to ignore them and go to find Brenna, she was corrected and told that she was to be taken to Kieren's quarters and kept there till he returned.
She tried to call out to Brenna in hopes that anyone would hear. It resulted in her being lifted off the ground with one of their hands over her mouth. The men were discreet, to say the least. And, she was politely deposited in Kieren's main sitting room.
No longer was she in the mood for submission. She was livid. Iona threw herself in an overstuffed lounging chair and waited.
"Kieren feels that you may have some knowledge of the Moor."
Russ loudly placed a wooden chair in front of her and straddled it in one swift movement. Having been on the verge of falling asleep, it startled Iona. Russ gave her a moment to gather herself. His words were not accusatory, just a matter of fact. He did not appear angry, but rather overly relaxed.
This left Iona suspicious.
"Then why am I talking to you and not Kieren?" she countered, returning back to a more comfortable position and showing him her back.
"Oh," Russ began. His tone was teasing and he was undeterred by her temperament. "Am I now no longer good enough company?"
"What woman does not enjoy the attentions of Russ the Long Sword?" Her words were animated, honey sweet and dripping with sarcasm.
Russ laughed before speaking.
"With great concern for your safety, he has returned to the woods to find your dear friend, the Moor."
She rolled her eyes at his baiting.
"So this is how he shows concern," she said, turning to look at Russ, "By sending you?
"Perhaps, my flower."
Iona huffed at the use of his pet name for her and turned her back to him again.
"You know better than most how he shows concern." He laughed once more.
Iona turned, unamused and kicked at him. Russ caught her foot and held it.
"There is no time for games here, my flower." He spoke more seriously, releasing her foot in a way that forced her to sit up. "Have you encountered the Moor since that day in the square?"
"I feel like I'm being interrogated."
"Now why would you feel like that?" Russ returned.
Iona narrowed her eyes in offense, weighing the situation. "This is because of you," she accused.
"Because of me," he pointed to himself and scoffed with amusement.
"You are why he mistrusts me."
"Time to grow up, little flower, and be fully open. This is unrelated to any closeness we may share. You must focus. He does not mistrust you. If he did you would not be here, and specifically not in his rooms. If you know anything, you must confess it. It will eventually be known. Kieren has a whiff of him now. He's not easily thwarted."
"A whiff of him?" She could not believe what she was hearing.
"Does that upset you?"
"I don't know. It depends, what exactly does Kieren smell? He is not easily thwarted from what? And please, don't leave out why?"
"You tell me why any man would not seek to protect what is his?" Russ spoke calmly. "Are you not Kieren's woman?"
She ignored his questions, which were mere attempts to draw out a reaction and therefore information. He more than anyone knew how much Kieren meant to her.
"Damned it, Iona," Russ was reaching his limit. "Dealing with me is considerably easier than dealing with him at the moment. You are a wise woman. Now, have you had contact with the Moor? This is important."
"What do you know about him?"
"This isn't about what I do or do not know, but you?"
"Why?" she demanded, getting up from the chair. "I want answers, too."
He stood and placed himself directly in her face so that she could not avoid him. His voice was calm now, but his expression dangerously reminded her of Kieren.
"Do not make this into something that it is not. Have you not been cared for and protected?"
Making an aggravated sound, she threw herself back into the chair and stubbornly folded her arms in front of her.
Inside, she understood the weight of the situation, but she did not want any more space or time to make matters worse between herself and Kieren. She knew that the village was to host of Thing soon, an important gathering of clan heads. She knew that the few days that she had alone with Kieren were rare and that his dealings could easily take him away from her. Also, she knew that if he did not want to talk to her or see her, she had no way of making it happen. She could possibly not see him for days or weeks if that was his choice. She could possibly not see him for months.
"If the all-important Eagle of Fire..." she sat up and began coldly.
Russ raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, I do know what they call him," she added. "If The Eagle of Fire needs something from me, he must come to me."
With that, she set her lips and eased back into the chair as if ready for battle.
"You could have been killed today." Russ sat back down, having decided to use another approach. "He's assuring your safety as you and I speak—just as he has always done for you. It is what he has done since your first meeting. Is it not?"
"You think me daft?" she fumed. "Not once did this Moor bear a weapon. Not when I encountered him in the square or on the side of the river. How is he of danger to me? That makes no sense."
"How do you know what he had or did not have at the river?" Russ challenged.
"Because I saw him," she snapped, "right before Kieren tried to murder him. Why do you assume that he desires to harm me? He's never said a word to me, not one. Why must you seek to kill him? He did nothing in the square but look upon me as I looked upon him. And you wanted a reason to end his life. You threatened a kind, innocent, old man in association with it.
"Then," she threw up her arms to mimic Kieren's wielding of the weapon, eyes wide, "butt naked, Kieren seeks to kill him because he is simply standing on the opposite side of the river bed. Which, I might add, could have been pure coincidence? It seems to me that you two are the dangerous ones. Maybe it is the two of you I should protect myself from."
Anger briefly flared across Russ' face, but then he smiled and stood up. "I have what I need for now. Sleep well, my flower."
Iona realized that she had nothing else to tell, nor had any of her questions been answered.
"I hate you," she screamed in frustration a few minutes later to the empty room.
She undressed and laid in Kieren's bed. Once again, she found herself waiting.
Iona did not know what made her open her eyes. But she could see the outline of him in the shadows of early dawn, motionless in a chair watching his own bed. She waited a minute before sitting up, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She rested her chin on top.
"You are," she said quietly, "at least, not sleeping on the floor."
He remained silent.
"That's a good sign," she added after a while.
Kieren finally spoke, his voice low and even. "Do you trust me?"
"I do," she whispered.
"You understand that your life may one day depend on how well you listen to me and obey my words."
"I do."
"I now put the question to you," he began, his voice still reserved. "You are fully revealed to me. Do not let an attempt at falsehood come between us."
Iona waited for his next words.
"What makes him risk his life for you? He knows the house to which you belong and yet he dares to watch you still?"
Iona started to ask who but thought better of it. This was no time for games.
"I do not know. I have never spoken to him."
"Is there something from your past that draws him?"
"Nothing I can recall. Before that day in the market, I had never seen a man of my people. I had never even imagined one so deep in darkness."
"Is that what you think to be true?"
The sudden anger that laced his words made Iona raise her head. Her chest tightened.
"Do you believe him to be of your people?"
"He is a slave," she murmured mournfully, "as I...was."
"He is no man's slave. And, he is not of your people. If he were thought to be a slave, he would have long since killed the one thinking himself to be his master. If unable to relieve himself of such a position, the Moor would choose death by his own hand. But we see that he is here and still alive."
Kieren sat in silence for a moment before continuing. His next words were more measured and controlled.
"Do not let the coincidence of his appearance mystify you or influence you in any way. Among his people woman are little, they own nothing and are traded as a commodity. You are not of his people."
"I, too, own nothing and am traded as a commodity."
Regret overcame Iona as soon as her words fell from her lips. Despite their trueness, in her heart she knew that he did not deserve their implication. Even the air in the room seemed to shift as she watched him lower his head.
When Kieren spoke again, his voice was low and heavily strained.
"Not by me."
Kieren had been told in advance about the Moor. And yes, the Moor was a threat. Experience and a natural sense of things confirmed this within him. Kieren's life came with its own expectations. To encounter a threat was nothing new, even if the extent of that threat was not fully known. To have someone thinking they could claim his life was nothing new. The concept itself created no fear or hesitation within him. But when it came to Iona, he was not himself and he knew it. In the woods by the river, he had experienced a new emotion, one that left him shaken. Kieren was caught between possessive anger and an unfamiliar sense of uncertainty.
He was discovering things within that he could not fully define. Some things, however, were quite simple. It was important to him that she fully understood them.
"All that is mine falls under you," he said.
"Iona, you own much," he then added, a bit defeated.
Iona had learned early in life not to trust everything she heard, or even trust what was sometimes seen with her own eyes. Her eyes were capable of lying to her, especially when blinded by emotions she could not pin down. She knew that the wants and needs of men shifted quickly and without much warning. Once reminded of his words, a man could easily look in her eyes and call her the liar and know she spoke the truth; or, he could not look in her eyes at all but through her as if she did not exist and simply walk away. But this man...
Kieren was like no other, and she did not lie when she told him that she trusted him.
She rose up from the bed and came to him. Standing naked in front of him as he sat, she smoothed back the hair from his temples.
Kieren's blue-grey eyes focused on her face and softened as he let his large hands spread across her bottom. He pulled her to him and rested his forehead between her breasts.
To touch him and feel his heat filled her with relief. To have him respond filled her with a sense of peace.
"I am your people," he said, bringing his lips to her skin. "And, you are mine."
"I am fully yours, my Kieren," she returned.
This was what he needed from her. Iona could feel his body relax beneath her touch.
"You are much to me, Iona. Never forget this."
With that, his hands moved firmly up her back. She reveled in the strength of them claiming her, the feel of them on her skin, the security of it. When they lowered back down to her behind, he lifted her as he stood. Her legs wrapped around him and they kissed. Kieren's kiss demanded much and left her heady. He removed one hand and she could feel him undoing the ties of his pants. Anticipation made her body hum. When he laid her on her back, she scurried back further onto the huge bed so that she was in the center—not taking her eyes off of him. She spread her legs wide and leaned back on her hands.
Prior attempts to be the seductress had always ended badly or were a major source of amusement. This time he did not laugh, and his expression was one of pure animalistic passion. His eyes were wild with it as they took in her lush body and a wanton position. Her pussy already glistened for him.
Free of what he wore, he crawled up her body tasting all that he could.
Iona let her fingers touch the defined muscles at the tops of his shoulders as they shifted with his movement. The wildness of his hair, combined with the look in his eyes, made him look breathtakingly sensual and equally dangerous. She grabbed a hand full of it when he was directly over her and pulled his lips to hers. His glorious tool teased her, sliding up and down her weeping slit as he rocked his hips. In answer, she gripped his ass with both hands.
He smiled at her attempt to control him, still kissing her hungrily.
When she slid one hand between them and firmly wrapped her fingers around his girth, placed the head of his swollen cock at the source of her pussy's tears and raised her hips, a pure groan of satisfaction released from Kieren's chest.
Iona felt deliciously naughty. She brought her legs up high. The sensation of fullness that only he could give began to overwhelm her as inch after divine inch slid home. Iona felt as if she were bursting at the seams when at long last he seated himself completely within her.
Fully sheathed he gazed down at her and smiled wickedly. "You bring out the beast in me. Does that not scare you?"
"Would it make you feel better if it did?" Her own voice purred with the edge of a challenge.
Kieren warned her by sliding out of her and then back in with controlled aggressiveness, creating the most sensual of responses from her and the arching of her back.
"Sometimes," he continued, gently squeezing a breast and fondling a hard nipple, "I think you purposely incite me."
"What of it if..." she began but could not finish because he withdrew himself from inside her almost completely.
Iona's eyes went wide.
Kieren slid slowly back in having garnered the effect he desired.
The next sound she made was drawn from the back of her throat, with her head thrown back and her mouth open wide.
This game of delicious agony was repeated several times. Sweat was forming on Kieren's brow when he lowered his mouth to hers.
"I won't be able to stop myself once I fully let go," Kieren warned her, pulling back one last time.
Iona answered with a growl of her own, raised herself and dug her teeth into a spot at his neck. The feeling that came with him plunging into her was the only thing that caused her to let go. His response was divine and the feel of being split in two with each forceful drive deep into her left Iona in a feverish state of satisfaction.
Iona felt a rush of cool air against her overheated skin when he suddenly pulled out and away. Her eyes opened in time to catch the dangerous flash of his. She found herself quickly flipped on her stomach. Kieren dragged her hips up to meet his. Immediately she said no, remembering in panic the last time he had taken her from behind. But, a soothing hand on her back and tender words calmed her as he entered her pussy. He repeatedly pounded his entire length into the door of her cervix. The sound of his flushed pale skin meeting her glowing, golden body—the slap of it, echoed throughout the room. Even in the dim lighting the sight of her brown skin against his excited him.
Kieren pulled her up so that her back was at his chest and she almost stood on her knees. Both were covered in a sheen of well-earned sweat.
Playing with an overly sensitive nipple, he groaned in her hair. "This is where all pretense and breeding becomes nothing between a man and a woman. Are you woman enough, my Iona?"
She had met every thrust when he took her. But the position he now took her from was brutal and left nothing hidden as to how much of a man he truly was. The pain was exquisite. It left her panting for breath with her eyes squeezed tight. But, Iona wanted him to know how much of a woman she truly was. This body was his and she wanted him to take all of it and never need another.
Lowering herself to her elbows and raising her ass high, she began rocking her body—pulling away from him and almost losing him completely, then jamming herself against him. It was like hitting a wall, but the sound she heard come from him each time she impaled herself was priceless.
As he stilled himself and looked down, the view—the arch of her back, curve of her hips, and roundness of her ass as she glided on and off his cock—combined with the feel of her hair in his hands while she fucked him pushed Kieren over the edge. His hands tightened at the top of her hips. His fingers dug into her flesh as he took control and pursued his pleasure.
Iona had long since came and knew that her attempt to try and hide it had been feeble at most. There were no reactions of her body Kieren did not feel and react to. He simply drew out her climax. What he did next was further flawless punishment. His hand came around her, grasped her inner thigh possessively before his thumb plucked at her clit. It was too much as she collapsed into a series of involuntary spasms and cried out his name.
That only amped Kieren to another level of wanting her and he placed both hands on her ass as he pumped. He could feel every contraction and release of her body.
As Kieren's thrusts grew more desperate, Iona could feel him swell more. This brought on its own avalanche of sensations. Heat shot through her with his release and he leaned over her body with a thick anguished sound shaking his chest.
They fell as one to the bed still joined and gasping for air.
Kieren did not want to crush her further with his weight, but he found it hard to move. When he attempted to, Iona protested.
"You are truly dangerous," he told her, eventually managing to lay beside her.
Iona felt like both the muscles and bones within her body had liquefied. She wished to make one of her smart remarks but could not. Instead, she reached for his hand and had only enough strength to smile. She closed her eyes and drifted off.
When she opened her eyes again, Iona found herself looking into the beauty of his. Kieren moved to his back and pulled Iona on top of him. Iona had felt nothing more comfortable than resting atop of him. Her body melded into his. Kieren smiled as he whispered something to her that she could not translate. The sound and cadence of his words was so beautiful and full of emotion that Iona gave in to the need to whisper them back as she intertwined her fingers with his.
Kieren's words were an oath from the old world and in the old tongue. They were familiar words to him, but for the first time, he understood the power of their meaning. He did not just say them, he felt them.
Let all spirits know, from this life to the next and beyond. Let even the Gods gather in awe for eternity. My life I give to you. Death cannot hold it. My love will split the skies and shake the earth. I will always find you. Eye to eye, hand to hand, heart to heart, we are one.
The words he spoke out loud, an oath, filled the room. Iona repeated them perfectly. They were such lovely words and they echoed in her mind as she slept.
***************************************
Kieren thought it self-sacrificing that Iona alone brought in the water for his bath. At first he wondered if she was moved by some form of guilt. But when Iona learned that the young girl that usually filled the tub told stories of him being naked, she did not want the young girl in his room ever again. He found it amusing.
"Enough," Kieren demanded.
Iona wiped her brow and placed the pail on the floor.
"Join me," he gave her that rare, beautiful and full smile.
Iona shed her smock quickly, sliding behind him so that he was between her thighs. Iona rested her hands on his back without thinking at first. The feel of what marked him felt strange beneath her touch. His hair had been pulled on top of his head and banded. There was nothing hiding the site of his scars. Having it displayed in front of her, being so close made her catch her breath. Because of the tattooing, from afar, it resembled the fierce wings of a bird. But up close, her fingers found frightening lines of corded skin—scars having healed over scars. She could not imagine the pain that accompanied such a thing.
For the first time, Kieren did not move away or flinch. He let her explore.
"Do not be afraid. It feels nothing," he volunteered.
The sadness of his voice made her stop the wandering of her hands. Not knowing what to do, Iona slid her hands beneath his arms and around his chest. She pressed the side of her face to the surface of his abused back. It felt good against her skin.
Kieren took her hands in his and kissed her inner wrists.
"Can you share how this came to be, Kieren?"
Kieren raised her hands to his lips and kissed them again, but said nothing.
"You and I, Iona, have shared quite some time together," he said softly, breaking the silence. "I have intimate knowledge of you."
She agreed.
Tell me, why is it that you have no menses?"
Iona attempted to reclaim her hands. Kieren kept them in his.
"I left Brenna in charge of your personal needs and..."
"You discussed me with Brenna?" Iona demanded.
"...Russ in charge of your security."
"You discussed me with Russ? How about Gunner? What did he have to say on the matter?"
"Are you done?" he spoke with patience.
"I do not like having the workings of my body discussed among men, especially Gunner."
"I can assure you, that is the last thing I would discuss with Gunner."
"Why do you say it like that?"
"Why do you evade my question, and not with much skill I might add. Settle down."
Iona sighed in defeat. "Why do you?"
Kieren pulled her arms tighter around him and Iona rested her face against his back once more, finding security in the feel of it.
"At first I was accused of leaving you with child," Kieren began. "But, we both know that there was no possibility of that."
Kieren waited.
"There is nothing you cannot tell me. I cannot be shocked or angry at you for things beyond your control, nor those within it. I am a man of many experiences and few things unwitnessed first hand."
"I do not know why...exactly."
"I wish only that you open up to me and allow me to grow closer to your heart."
"You are already close to my heart," she whispered.
"Then allow me to step inside of it."
Iona closed her eyes.
"There are things that bring great shame," she surrendered.
"There is no shame between you and me," he assured her. "You have seen me at my worse, have you not?"
"I cannot share what I do not fully understand. Just know that a child can never grow within me, not yours or anyone else's."
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
"Were you raped?"
"Is it children that you seek?"
"I have no use for children. The cause matters to me only in relationship to your mental state. I truly want nothing to come between us."
"Like your back."
Kieren released her hands and move out of her arms.
"I shall inquire no more."
He moved to get out of the bath.
"Kieren, no." She pulled at his arm.
Kieren repositioned himself, between her legs but this time facing her. Her legs were now on top of his.
"Where do I begin? My life is filled with disgraces, both small and large."
"Begin with the beginning."
"My first owners sold me to a family with a new wife. I was to be her comfort," Ion surrendered.
Kieren encouraged her to continue.
"She was kind and from another land. She taught me much and allowed me much freedom. She cared for me. I was treated well by this family."
She paused.
"But?" Kieren pressed.
"But as I grew up beside her step-sons, they became...demanding. As I began to look more like a woman, fighting them off was constant. When my bleeding came, my mistress told me its meaning and how life must change. I know now that I did not fully comprehend her. I did understand that a male could put a child inside me. However, I thought it could happen by mere touch. I became scared of the boys. I avoided them. To me, even the husband was a threat."
Kieren allowed her to talk at her own pace, but felt himself growing hot with anger. He gave her no sign.
"I upset one of the boys by refusing a gift. He was the oldest and most proud. He had always been the one to stop the other boys. I felt that his gift was given to make me feel beholding. My refusal infuriated him. I ran from him and I fell. He became cruel. He...he kicked me several times. He accused me of thinking I was better than him and forgetting that he owned me. When I came to, several days later, my Mistress was administering care to me. I had been ill with fever. When I was better and more-or-less healed, in tears my mistress sold me. She said that it was time for me to go and that the new family would be good to me. Their sons were older and had wives. My new mistress and master were aged.
"Were they good to you?" Kieren inquired gently.
"For the most part, yes.
"I bled no more though," she whispered.
"Something inside of me was broken. When my new master began to want me, I knew that it was to my advantage to be willing. Belonging to him in that way made me feel safe from other men. I was treated as a pet. When he traveled, I accompanied him. He required little from me as far as duties. He liked my company and occasionally my body."
"You had confided in me that his wife grew angry with you?"
"Yes. There was talk amongst the other women. Over time my mistress began to hate me. She had long since refused to service her husband. Theirs was an arranged marriage; too, she was old and had long since given him sons. They lived like sister and brother now. But, I became the source of arguments. She accused me of luring her husband with some form of enchantment. My mistress' hate grew."
"In the end, he did not stand for me."
"To be a woman, as beautiful as you are, and a slave..." Kieren spoke in a low tone after a long silence.
Kieren took her hand and placed it over his heart.
"Rest easy, you have landed in a safe place." He placed her hand over his heart. "Here. Know that my heart will always be dedicated to the soft landing of yours."
As he leaned forward, he slid his hand beneath her bottom and pulled her closer onto his lap. As they kissed, Kieren positioned himself. Iona moaned softly with his ingress. Their love making was slow and tender as they looked into each other's eyes. Still her flesh adjusted to him, but she loved the way the aching quickly turned into elation and sent erotic shivers through her. She pressed her lips to his and began to move her hips in a circular motion, loving the sense of control it offered her and enjoying the slide of his cock. His eyes were so clear and blue, she could see the ocean. She could feel the sway of it.
To Kieren, nothing was as beautiful as her lovely face in the throes of passion.
Iona did not know if it was the sound of her name that slipped between his lips in a way that was like no other, or the feel of him touching that spot within her. She cried out his name as she free fell over the edge of satisfaction. Her entire body trembled and her arms held him tight, holding on to him for dear life. She could feel the heat of him shoot within her. But, the joy of it was secondary to what her body was feeling.
The world melted away as they satisfied each other. It was an amazing sense of relief and peace combined; something Kieren had never felt with anyone else.
**************************************
Kieren wished he could have shared the entire day with Iona. He wanted to walk with her in the market. Russ said that she delighted in that. Instead, he found himself bored with the worse part of leading—dealing with the pettiness of disagreements between the clans.
He sat back, low in the large and elaborately carved wooden seat. His long legs were open and stretched out before him. His hair hung loose and untamed hiding much of his fine features. He purposefully kept his eyes hooded and low as he played with the gift he had received earlier. Kieren admired the intricate design of the handle and the detail given to the rendering of a fierce sea serpent in the throes of an attack. He liked the way the small weapon caught the light and manipulated it, giving the tail movement as it played into the hilt.
Too many, he was a fearsome sight, known to always be on the edge of violence. Although seeming calm, all knew that at his deadliest there could be a striking calmness. Now he played with a weapon he could use in an instant if he chose.
Violence today, however, was the last thing on his mind.
Kieren recognized the high quality of the dual edged blade in his hands. He knew why the light hit it in such a way. The intricate design created when it was forged made the metal appear pearl like, etched from within and fluid. It was a distinction no artisan could fake. It was made of Hindvi steel, deceptively lightweight and deadly. He let the tips of his fingers run over its sleekness, now warmed by his own heat. He had a similar one. He knew the lands from which it came, and questioned how his fellow landsman acquired it.
Once again, his thoughts shifted to Iona. Maybe he would give it to her as a gift. It would be a weapon suitable for her to tuck into her skirting. It would be the first one she had acquired without committing thievery.
Kieren thought about how he had found the delicate spots of her body and was without mercy. He mastered the perfect combination of hands, fingers, tongue, lips and teeth. He could make her scream and cry, beg for escape or simply melt all over him—her sweet juices flowing. He simply smiled at her prayers that he please stop, the ones that concluded with her pleads to not stop. And, this was all before he entered her with his cock, capturing her in totally new ways and leaving her on the edge of consciousness-having pursued his own pleasure.
Everything he drew from her only left him more in awe of her body, more committed to her pleasure and more in need of burying himself within her. In the taking of her, he was more taken.
That thought gave him a slight smile, which was misunderstood by those watching him. He heard the voice of the one stating his claim rise with confidence.
Some came to present him with gifts as proof of their allegiance, as if land taxes were not enough. They sought to remain in his good graces. Others came to him to settle disputes. Heated arguments and the threat of blood feuds always disturbed the balance of things. Blood had been spilled or could easily be spilled based on the decisions made by the council that sat on either side of Kieren.
Before Kieren came to these lands, there was a patchwork of opposed chiefdoms and noble families with their own agendas, constantly at each other's neck. His father's hand had not stretched out this far. Kieren struck out on his own, to form necessary alliances. There was no match to the war lord he had become. Any one opposing him was quickly brought to their knees. He was not called the Eagle of Fire for no reason. What he could not kill with his own hands, he set on fire, so that nothing remained.
As the Law Speaker read out the law at the beginning of these gatherings for all to hear, the law council gathered to sit at the long table. But, it was unmistakably Kieren's table. No matter who stood before them, all knew the importance of his attention and his words. Kieren's riches, and the considerable army dedicated to no one but him, enabled his power. But long before he had established the strength of that, Kieren understood that loyalty was not gained by fear alone but by the comfort of loyalty returned and accessibility to power. He knew that the appearance of democracy was reassuring as well. All need not always be definite, but at least assumed.
As far as the meeting itself, there was little that Kieren had not already been made aware of in great detail beforehand. For the most part, he did not intercede with the things he considered minor. But what he considered of importance, he dealt with that in person. He decided whether it would be heard by the council or if the council would even be informed. No one challenged him. If the members of the council became at odds with one another, a simple nod of Kieren's head was all that was generally needed.
Gunner usually stood close or sat beside Kieren. The old man had managed to avoid such today. Kieren had assigned him a small mission.
In his boredom, Kieren reviewed an earlier conversation with Gunner. Once again the two had butted heads. Gunner always challenged him with a different way of looking at matters. Sometimes it was what Kieren needed to consider. And, sometimes it was not.
"It may not be what you prefer to hear, but necessary never-the-less," Gunner declared once they were in private.
Kieren undid the gold broach bore his symbol. The sash it held fell to the floor. He pulled at the restrictive, roped embroidery around the neck of his tunic. It amazed him how so little could feel so confining. He would not bother with the formalities of dress today.
"It should be considered. You too expressed doubt at first. Did you speak of it to her? The kinds, they seek each other out. It is at the base of all that is natural. A mountain goat does not seek out a sheep. Or..."
Kieren warned Gunner with his eyes. Gunner boldly searched for any sign of doubt. And he found none.
"Old man," Kieren scolded. "I know what you are trying to do, but I hold no question as to Iona's loyalty. And, do not speak to me of sheep and goats ever again."
"I only state the obvious." Now satisfied, Gunner returned to his usual air of indifference.
A server came into the area with cups and a pitcher. The look the two men gave made her turn immediately and exit the way she had come in.
"Let this always be at the front of your mind," Kieren spoke as they stood eye to eye. "I am her kind. Iona is my kind. Let it flavor your tongue before you speak to me of her."
"I have no opinion on the matter. She is simply a woman, you a man. I only say what should be considered." Gunner snorted, not quite satisfied that Kieren was in control. She affected him like no other.
Gunner retreated and found seating on a bench along the wall. He spread his tired legs out and looked down into his own lap. He let out a rough sigh that reached back through the shared years of the two men.
"I am in no way speaking down of the girl. Even I find myself under her spell. I only want you to be certain and not blinded..."
Once more, Kieren warned him with his eyes.
"...by your interest in her, an interest that I fear has grown into something more confounding."
"I am certain of her."
"Then, consider this," Gunner reasoned. "Russ sensed something when he first encountered the Moor. It was smart of the man to carry no obvious weapons. Russ felt that the Moor acted with intention, as if waiting for the opportunity to become aligned with someone. Russ watched him personally as soon as he was notified that the Moor was seen nearing the village. The Moor's eyes searched the crowd constantly, as if he were sizing things up. Russ waited, expecting a meeting or exchange of some kind. But, that never occurred. The Moor came with the merchant, but only pretended to assist the old man. The site of Iona shocked him at first. He was not expecting her. She was not his goal."
Kieren sat beside Gunner to consider his words.
"Russ said that Iona was struck by the sight of him. I believe her when she says that she shares no past with him."
"Struck," Kieren questioned.
"Yes, but not out of recognition or fear," Gunner snorted. "I am not certain that the girl truly fears any man."
The two men nodded in agreement.
"It would be reasonable that she would be struck by anyone beyond our general paleness," Kieren noted. "That's a normal thing. It would surprise a child or you and me, if we knew no travels."
"Yes," Gunner assured him. "How often do you think one, anyone, would run into a woman with such bronzed skin, such hair and a softness still to her nature in these parts? The sight of her would make any free man stop to look twice, if not out of anything but pure curiosity. You would think more so for the Moor. And, considering that she does not dress or carry herself as a common servant..."
"Your point?"
"My point is this. The fact that she is here surprised him. So she was not his goal. To want her when there is no doubt that she is yours and here of her own free will, is a wish for death. You are right when you say that she is not of his people. You know firsthand that the people of his land war amongst each other as all men do. Their different shades separate them too. He does not look at her and think home. He has not tried to lead her away. That would have been unwise from the start, but surely much more dangerous now that you have arrived. So far, he watches and waits. Maybe you are who he is watching for."
"I have thought of this too. He wears the warrior's markings on his face and neck. What warrior earns such markings, travels so far from his people alone with no cause, no support, no apparent defense, pretending to be a peddler?" Kieren said after pondering Gunner's words. "He is a fighter in search of a fight. A warrior freed from commitment, a warrior for hire."
"Warriors that have no honor, no home, no spirit," Gunner added insistently.
"Someone holds the silver. It is the silver we should concern ourselves with," Kieren concluded. "To hire this sort, it would have to be someone with the means. It would have to be someone that wishes to remain unknown and unconnected to any incident."
"A false friend."
Kieren laughed bitterly. "I have you and a wayward brother. I have no use for friends."
Much was becoming clear, Kieren thought as he now played with his gift.
While Kieren attended to business, Iona had been penalized for what Brenna considered "her inability to shut-up."
"He really operates on such little sleep. I don't see how he does it. And..." Iona was saying.
"Hush girl," Brenna stormed. "No one wants to hear your girlish ramblings. We all know his manliness has consumed you. We've witnessed first-hand the faultiness of your gait."
The young girls assisting Brenna laughed. Iona flushed in shame.
"I've known him for as long as you have breathed. There is nothing that you can tell me about him. And I find myself not wanting to know the things that you wish to share. We shall see who is in need of your assistance today, since I am not."
With that, Iona was banished to perform lesser duties. In the fine wear Kieren insisted upon, she found herself stirring a heated cauldron filled with the piss of Kieren's soldiers. She moved the felt like strips of char cloth, made from the beaten touch-wood of oak, in a circular motion with a large wooden pole. It was a necessary chore. The women of the village took turns enduring it. Kieren's men needed the treated cloth for fire. It was the urine that gave it its power. It was a disgusting chore as far as Iona was concerned.
When the women brought more, it splashed into her face.
"Oh," Iona swore in shock, "I so hate you spiteful bit..."
She caught her tongue.
"We are simply following the directions of Brenna." The women laughed.
It had been a while since Iona had lent a hand to the women. They had been used to seeing her when she helped with the wash and similar things. Now she was who they did the work for. A few of them had mixed feelings about such matters.
Relief flooded her when she heard the familiar laugh of Russ. She turned to see his smiling face, alongside two other of Kieren's men.
"She's our finest hand," one of the older women volunteered cheerfully.
"I see." Russ laughed.
"I hope you are enjoying yourself," I said, rolling her eyes at him.
"Very much so," Russ returned, amused. "Your fine bottom bent over a vat of piss is a sight to see."
"Save me." Iona mouthed the words to him in sincerity.
He raised a doubtful eyebrow and shook his head.
She mouthed the word, "Please."
"Ladies," He announced dramatically. "As enticing as this scene appears to be, I must remove your most entertaining counterpart."
Iona wiped her hands off on her skirting and walked quickly pass the three men. She was more than ready for this chore to be over.
"Do you need me to scrub your back?" Russ teased, draped over the same chair she had sat in just last night.
"No my dear Long Sword," Iona laughed. "I'm just about finished. Could you bring me my dressing on the bed?"
Russ brought the item to her, but lingered as she used the drying cloth. He had not forgotten how beautiful her dark body was, with its dips and curves. Her breasts were more enticing than any he had ever experienced—and he had experienced much. The darkness of the circles that held her firm, now extended nipples was in contrast to the honeyed brown of her skin. He still remembered how sweet she tasted and how, like silk, her skin felt against his.
Once again, Russ thought his brother to be the luckiest of all men when he looked at Iona. She was surely fine.
"Maybe you can tell me something Russ," Iona was saying, when she noticed his eyes on her. There was no doubt about what he was thinking.
Russ smiled wickedly, with no shame.
"And what may I supply for you in the absence of my brother."
Iona dismissed his flirting and smoothed out the long tunic. She wrapped the leather cording loosely around her hips. She liked the shine of the threads woven into the cording. There was a long vest like over laying that draped over her as well. Iona had never worn something so fine and delicate. She had bracelets and earrings with stones the same color as the vesting. She liked the color; it reminded her of ripened grapes.
"Like wine," she thought, touching the material.
Russ watched her carefully run her hand over the fine materiel.
"How wanton my brother makes you," he mused. "The girl of months ago would have never dressed in front of me with such ease. Now the woman before me has no cautiousness and her body cries out for attention.
Iona merely looked at Russ and rolled her brown eyes. He was an accomplished flirt.
"You are beautiful, Iona," Russ said with seriousness.
"It's these clothes," Iona gushed. "Have you ever seen anything so soft and flowy?"
Russ laughed.
"Flowy?" He thought the word to be silly. But, he loved the way it fell from her lips. She made it sound sensual.
"Like water poured over me," she replied, awe-struck.
Russ loved her animated spirit. It was as interesting to him as her temper.
"Yes, my flower. It is beautiful as well.
"He chose it just for me," she exclaimed.
Russ did not respond, but waited patiently as she pulled her hair up and secured it with decoration.
"Tell me," she said more serious. "How did Kieren get his scars?"
"Which ones?" Russ feigned innocence.
"The ones his back bears."
"He is a man." Russ sobered and returned to his seat. "What true man does not bear scars?"
"None like his," she said, positioning herself before him.
"Oh, and you think yourself and expert on men now?"
Russ' eyes no longer teased, they were serious and focused clearly on hers.
"If you wish to know something in regards to your man, you simply need to ask him."
"I have."
"Then this conversation is over." Russ rose from the chair.
When he spoke next, he was standing close to Iona, looking down into her lovely face.
"Do not complicate matters with details that mean nothing."
"Russ, Kieren means everything to me. I simply wish to know all that makes him."
"Then let him have his secrets and trust that he is simply what he is."
With that, he pushed her into the chair.
"With all the gallantry I can muster," Russ returned to the playfulness of his nature, "I shall place these slippers on your feet and entertain you till the night's meal. Only then will I return you to my brother."
Iona could not help but break into a childlike smile.
"I shall discover answers to this mystery," she said playfully, as Russ led her out the door.
"I have no doubt." Russ dipped his head politely.
The village was prepared for a week of serious feasting. The entire community was taking part. This was a time when all gathered to eat, drink strong ale and dance-in that order. Sacrifices would be made and eaten in honor of the Gods. Departed kinsmen lost in battle and ancestors were honored too. Toasts would be made to the God Æsir. Cattle and horses would be slaughtered, and their blood used to redden the idols. It was all performed in hopes that the approaching winter would prove plentiful.
Iona was familiar with the fall feast. However, this festival would be on a much grander scale than any she had ever witnessed.
Families were coming out of the hills and setting up temporary settlements outside of the city. Invited nobles and a limited number within their entourage filled what space was left within the walls of The Eagle's Head.
The men had already begun their dangerous games and bloody contests. They called to Russ the Long Sword with their challenges.
"Go play your man games," Iona teased. "I promise to be good.
Iona was enjoying skewered chunks of fruit. The fruits were dipped in honey and held over the fire until the honey formed a hardened shell.
"And miss you sucking the honey off that fruit. Never."
"Off with you, I have my guards."
"Do not stray far," Russ through over his shoulder.
Of course, Iona had other plans.
As darkness drew near, circles began to form around fires. Children came to hear the stories about great warriors. During times like these, once filled with mead everyone was a story teller. Iona tuned into the sagas shared.
**************
"What has he given you," Kieren said to one of his men as they made their way through the trees.
"After much encouragement, he continues to request that he be brought to you."
"Did you ask him in the right way?"
"Most definitely. He would not surrender anything. He has a core of steel," one of Kieren's men informed him.
They came to a clearing where six of Kieren's men stood with Gunner, surrounding a man on his knees, with his hands tied behind his back. Blood decorated his face. One eye was swollen shut. His head was hung low.
"It took seven of you to apprehend him," Kieren inquired, unamused.
The countenance of the soldier beside him fell. "He is trained well."
"Let us begin," Kieren announced now focused on the man before him.
The ebony colored man raised his head.
"You wish to speak to me?"
The man grunted in agreement.
"Speak."
"Yes," the man supplied.
"Tell me, what is your name?"
"I am Arjun," he managed to say.
Iona listened intently to the stories told. In every story there is a grain of truth...
The Eagle of Fire was born marked by Oden himself.
It was the symbol of a master. He would master the white tailed eagle,
the eagle of the sea. He would control fire and flight—and man.
He was marked for greatness as foretold.
He was destined to gather great men from the north and from the south,
so that they could become one, under him, and rule over a land of prosperity.
He would rule beyond the land, to where the ocean ends.
And then, he would rule beyond that.
Even his father fears The Eagle of Fire's destiny,
as all men should.
Kieren bent over so that he was eye to eye with the man.
"What I ask you will only be asked once or I'll take your head myself." Kieren placed the tip of his gift under the man's chin and they rose together. "Understand?"
"Yes," Arjun replied.
"Why are you here?"
"I am here to offer myself to your cause."
"The way you have gone about it is quite questionable. Of what benefit would this have for me."
"I am a fine fighter and I have information.
"Yet my men over threw you. What information could I value coming from you?
"The house of Haffrin has given great payment to have your life ended. He has paid me with silver."
"Does he now? Why should I believe words so quickly surrendered over a fellow clansman?"
"Did he not gift you with the very knife you now have pointed at my throat. Do you not recognize the styling of my people upon it? It was my gift to Haffrin. He insults you with it."
Kieren removed the knife from the man's neck.
"How did Haffrin come upon you?"
"I happened upon him."
"In the situation you are in now, what man would not attempt to save his life with words.
"I have no fear of death."
Kieren's smile was threatening.
"Good. Being that I am your focus and you have failed, what prevents me from taking your head and wiping your blood from the blade of this gift?"
"Nothing prevents it."
The Eagle of Fire was stolen as a child while on a trip with his father.
He was tortured.
The torture was so complete that it left him unable to feel pain.
To have survived gave him extraordinary powers.
His father fought a great battle and recovered his son.
But his life now made him look beyond his father.
In his eyes you could see the sea and its tempestuousness.
His father then knew that he could never be contained.
When he was of age, he could not stay.
There could be only one man ruling in his father's long house.
His mother sacrificed herself to the Gods to give him more strength and assure his destiny.
He would need it in his quests. This is how she let him go.
He went back to the land of his captors. Like and eagle, he swooped down.
His anger was so hot and eager to leave him that he breathed fire,
burning everything.
To this day that land is baron and the seas no longer meet it.
"Your honor and allegiance appear to be an act of convenience. A lucrative act, I must say. I do not pay for loyalty and I myself take the lives of my enemies."
"My honor belongs to the man that fights his own battles, not one that hires another to do his bidding. I wish to be counted amongst your warriors and give my allegiance to your cause. The price of the bribery is yours. I want no part of it."
The Eagle of Fire's father once loved him dearly.
Everywhere he went, he took his son. The boy went to sea with his father.
There was a great storm. He was separated from his father and crew.
Many ships were lost.
Örm, the great serpent of the sea, rose up and took him.
He fought the serpent with all the strength he had.
His effort to take the head of the serpent was so brave that Oden watched with interest.
Oden then showed mercy and swooped from the sky like a large eagle.
Oden blew fire at the serpent, saving the boy who became a man on that day.
But man's memory is short.
So Oden named him The Eagle of Fire to make all remember that day always,
Oden marked his back and vowed to guard him in battle.
To this day no man has struck down The Eagle of Fire
But, the mark of the eagle is also what keeps him from ever having a home.
He is the man that must always search the seas.
"The house of Haffrin is consumed with jealousy and contempt," Arjun continued. "With each toast of alliance the hatred grows. You have much and have created a fortress. They fear your power which grows. You will own the South and your father the North. The union of the two would bring the world to its knees. Who would challenge you? This is what he whispers to all that will listen. Haffrin sparks fear and plays on it."
"What is it that you believe?"
"I believe that it is wise to join the winner. Your hand is great and you hold many. I wish to serve the man that you have proven to be, not the ones that fear you."
"Winning is subjective. I need men that dedicate themselves to honor, win or lose."
"You alone are The Eagle of Fire. Test my worthiness."
|
~!~
Someone was banging at the door again and Sally was tempted to call the police. Benji kept running to and fro snarling. Getting frustrated she walked to the door and looked out the key hole to see a woman sneering. Again Benji barked angrily.
"I know someone is there. Let me in," the door banger demanded.
Sally ignored the request and soon after heard the car drive off again, hopefully for good this time. Less than fifteen minutes later, she heard the door opening and Benji ran to it excitedly.
"Hi Benji, hi sweetheart...I missed you. Did you miss Mommy?"
The happy little dog jumped around excitedly and licked the hand of the beautiful woman who picked him up.
"Hello," Ayasha said surprised. "Who are you?"
"Hello, I'm Sally, the house sitter."
"Storm hired a house sitter? That's a first for him."
"Are you Ayasha?"
Before Ayasha could answer, the door opened again and in walked Audrey. "I hope you know that's called breaking and entering..." Ayasha said angrily.
"I didn't break in, the door was open. Where's Storm?"
"Get out!"
"Not until I see Storm."
"I said get the fuck out bef..."
"I'm not leaving until I see St..."
"You are such a pathetic dumb bitch. My brother doesn't want to se..."
"We're together whether you like it or not Ayasha so get used..."
Ayasha laughed hard. "Are you crazy?"
"What?"
"Are you crazy? Never mind...you are
crazy. You may want to forget but my brother told me he told you to leave him the fuck alone."
"He never said that..."
Sally moved behind Ayasha which brought both women's attention to her immediately. Ayasha spoke first, "Get out of his house. You're making his girlfriend uncomfortable."
"What?" Audrey said looking between Sally and Ayasha. "He doesn't have a girlfriend. We're working things out."
"No, you're trying to bury your fangs into my bother..."
"I'm his girlfriend and I'm not going to let you keep us a part. You're such a bitch and Storm would never be seen with someone like her." Audrey gave Sally a look of contempt, "You're going to..."
"You are a psychotic, delusional, warped low-life bitch and I'm done with you. Get out before I have you forcefully removed."
Audrey visibly tensed. She knew Ayasha was daring enough to call the police and they would listen to her. Storm would defend Ayasha but she and her family would be disgraced. She decided to hit somewhere else. "Tell me something," she addressed Sally, "do you know of their brother and sister special affection?"
Sally who felt insulted by what the skinny blond had said replied sweetly, "No I didn't know," and turning to Ayasha continued, "but I would love to join next time, if you don't mind the company."
Ayasha smiled at Sally. "No not at all. We were going to invite you."
"Invitation accepted."
Audrey stared at both women as they returned her stare, everyone silent. Seeing that she had lost this battle Audrey huffed, turned and stomped away, angrily slamming the door behind her. Ayasha immediately began to laugh as Sally tried to apologize.
"You're sorry? For what?" Ayasha asked.
"I shouldn't have gotten involved..."
"I got you involved. Storm won't be angry and if he is, I'll deal with him." Ayasha sighed, "Thank you for not believing that..."
"It's none of my business."
Ayasha's phone beeped notifying her of a text message which read:
"Well I have to get going. Thanks for watching Benji."
"It was my pleasure. He was a well behaved dog and he missed you."
"Yeah...he's my baby. Say thank you and goodbye to Sally, Benji," and the happy little dog barked and jumped around.
"You're welcome Benji and you were wonderful company," Sally replied smiling.
~!~
Kevin opened the Mike's apartment door and allowed Ayasha in. She greeted both him and Mike before addressing Storm.
"Hey guys. You look great. What's going on?"
"You're still looking fine as ever. So when you gonna leave that bum for me?" Kevin flirted.
Storm grunted and Ayasha smiled. "Sorry but I sorta love that bum but who knows maybe I'll change my mind one of these days."
"You know where I'll be," Kevin said.
"Okay so what's going on?" Ayasha asked finally addressing her brother.
"Sally is under surveillance. Nice argument there sis..."
"Your whore asked for it," then Ayasha smiled, "and Sally handled her nicely also."
"Yes, we heard," Mike said and the guys began to laugh.
"Yasha..." Storm began.
"You heard what she said?" Ayasha said in her defense.
"Yes, and I will take care of it but stop calling her my whore."
"I hate the fact that you got involved with her in the first place."
"Ayasha, it was nothing. Let it go."
"Okay. So why are you watching Sally?"
"Sorry babe but it's confidential," Mike answered.
"Yeah...it's nothing big."
Mike's phone rang. "So why are you watching her from here?" Ayasha asked.
"The main surveillance is going on elsewhere. This is just an additional feed," Kevin answered.
"I needed somewhere to stay and didn't feel like a hotel or..." Storm answered.
"You could have gone home for the weekend. I'm sure mother would have loved that," Ayasha said.
"Didn't feel like it sis," Storm said to her smart ass remark.
"Okay thanks for letting me know. I'll see you guys soon," Mike said ending the call. To the others in the room he said, "I have to go."
"I'll recheck to see if I missed anything," Kevin said.
"Thanks man," Mike said to Kevin before turning to address Storm, "Storm thanks for letting us use your place."
"Anytime," Storm said to Mike and before turning to Kevin, "Can you get that stuff out of my house tonight? I'm going to dinner."
"I'll do my best but I can't guarantee anything."
"Thanks," Storm said to Kevin before addressing Ayasha, "Sis, where are you off to now?"
"Home, do you want to come by. I'm ordering in," Ayasha replied.
"No...I'm gonna wing it tonight. Thanks."
"Ayasha, see you soon babe," Mike said.
"Well your wish will come through if you attend my party next month." She turned to Kevin, "Both of you are invited and both of you had better show up, no excuses. It's going to be fun because it's my party."
"Just let me know when babe, you know I'll always make time for you," Mike replied.
"Yeah, me too especially when you leave that bum you're dating...what is he again, a nurse or something?" Kevin joked.
"He's a doctor you idiot. Don't get injured. I don't want you to end up on his table especially if he knows you're trying to steal his woman," Mike said to Kevin.
"It doesn't matter, we'll still be together," Kevin said to Ayasha who laughed.
Storm and Mike both shook their heads. "Delusional," Mike said before walking away.
~!~
Storm parked next to the car in his driveway. Walking behind it, he took down the plate number. When he opened his front door, it was to see Sally dressed, ready to leave. For a brief moment, he imagined she was at the door to welcome him home. She looked beautiful and taller. Her hair was pinned up in a messy bun and for the first time, she was wearing makeup; a lip-gloss that made her lips look very wet and kissable. Her beautiful aqua blue shirt was breezy and airy and she paired it with skin tight dark blue jeans. Looking down he saw why she was taller today, she was wearing wedges that showed off her manicured toes. Deliberately blocking her path so she couldn't leave, he inconspicuously forced her back into the foyer as he securely closed the door behind him. It also gave him a few moments to rein in his desire to kiss her.
"Hello, how are you doing?"
"Fine thanks. You're back early."
"Yeah, I finished my business sooner than expected. Where's Benji? He didn't give you any problems did he?"
"No, he didn't. Your sister came by and got him not too long ago."
"Oh good. Thanks so much for watching him for me...her...us."
"You're welcome."
After a moment of silence they both began to speak together.
"Well I'll..."
"Where are..."
Sally kept quiet and nodded for Storm to begin. "Where are you off to?"
"Oh I was going to get dinner but since you're back, I'll leave instead."
"Did you order?"
"No, I was just going to see what I wanted."
"Well give me a few and I'll join you."
"No, that won't be necessary. Thank you. You have been very generous already."
"Sally, I'm hungry too and I wouldn't mind the company."
"I'm not comfortable considering I'm temporarily working for you."
"Well your assignment ended when Ayasha picked up Benji so you're no longer my employee. Wait here, I'll be back in about five to ten minutes."
"Storm, I..."
"By the way what were you going to get?"
"Something..."
"Which is?"
"You wouldn't...what did you want to eat?"
"Jerk Chicken and I know a great little spot."
"You eat Jerk Chicken?"
"Yes, why?"
"Nothing..." she smiled and Storm didn't miss it.
~!~
The owner of the restaurant greeted Storm happily and it was clear that he was a regular. Storm introduced Sally to Clive, a happy go lucky individual who obviously enjoyed what he did. They sat at booth and shortly after, Clive came by.
"So a weh yu fine dat preety girl?" Clive asked.
"Mi whan no mi self Clivey," Clive's wife Patrice said.
Storm laughed at the ribbing. It was the first time he had ever brought a woman there besides Ayasha. It was one of Ayasha's favorite restaurants and why he didn't tell her he was coming. He wanted this time with Sally.
"So I can't be seen with a pretty girl?"
"A nu so me sey. Mi ask yu a whey yu fine 're," Clive replied.
Looking at Sally and her joy at his expense, Storm answered, "She ran into me." Sally looked away shyly, her smile diminishing a bit. She looked up at Clive who was smiling at her and then at Storm. "Her beauty knocked me over, literally."
She was stunned by the compliment.
"What yu name?" Patrice asked Sally.
"What part of the island are you from?" Sally asked in return.
"St. Ann's. Where yu from?"
"Sally, Kingston but then again, everyone's from Kingston."
"True dat."
"Do you ever go back?"
"When me can get a cheap flight."
Even though her question was meant to sound casual, Storm detected the under tone of longing and wondered why she didn't return for visits like he knew Clive and Patrice did. Maybe it was because she no longer had family on the island. According to the report Mike had pulled on her, she was an orphan.
"What yu want sweetheart?" Patrice asked Sally before turning to Storm, "Mi already know what yu want."
"What if I want something different tonight?"
"Yu already have something different tonight and yu a enjoy it already," Patrice replied to Storm who laughed. "Whey you want babe? Arda anyting."
Sally laughed, "I'll take an order of jerk chicken...oh wait, do you have fried fish?"
"Of course. You want bammy or festival wid dit?"
"Bammy please. Thank you."
"I'll have a fried fish also and make my chicken order a large one."
"Alright. Whey you want fi drink?" Patrice asked Sally.
"A bottle of water please."
"Dat it?"
"Yes, that will be fine. Thank you."
"Me know, yu want fruit punch."
"You love me."
"No try fi take whey mi wife. Yu 'ave yu own woman," Clive said to Storm who laughed out loud again.
Sally was stuffed. The food was so good that she almost couldn't stop eating. The fried fish came with steamed vegetables and Storm had jerk chicken with rice and peas. He made her try a piece of his chicken and she was definitely coming back for more. Clive and Patrice also kept the jokes coming. It was a very quaint restaurant, not very large which made it very cozy and enjoyable. No one wanted to leave or so it seemed, but there was a steady stream of patrons who couldn't wait to get their food. Now they were walking among some shops with Storm lightly holding Sally's hand after she gave up her many attempts to pull her hand free.
"So what exactly are you studying?"
"For now it's biology focusing on microbiology."
"Very nice. I never had a feel for the sciences. My Aunt Mary does though. She was a pediatric nurse and she loved it. How much longer do you have?"
"I have these exams then hopefully I'll get accepted by one of the hospitals for an internship as a tech. At least that way, I can steady support myself as I further my degree."
"Which schools are you looking at?"
"I'm still looking. I'm going over programs and their cost."
"Well there's loans right?"
"Yes, but I'll still have to budget to see what I can afford."
Storm noticed she didn't give any information about her finances so he held back on the questions so she wouldn't become suspicious.
"How did you find that place?" Sally asked.
"A very good friend of mine, a paralegal I worked with at the DA's office. We were working on a case late one night and she ordered us dinner from there. I've been hooked ever since. I go there a few times a month. I love the atmosphere and Clive and Patrice are sweet and funny, hardworking. They make everyone feel comfortable."
Sally took notice of how he spoke about his friends.
~!~
Storm laid in bed looking up at the ceiling wondering what time today Sally would leave. Last night was one of the best dates he'd ever had. He observed how much she enjoyed her meal, spoke with Clive and Patrice and relaxed in the little restaurant. Not wanting to part from her company, he insisted that she spend the night, averting to the time of night for traveling alone. Currently she was in a bedroom down the hall but he wanted her beside him in his bed. Getting up, he pulled on pajama pants, washed up and made his way to the kitchen to begin breakfast. At the very least, he was going to feed her.
Breakfast was finished and Sally still had not made an appearance so Storm when to see if she was up. Knocking on the door, he heard her yelled, "Enter." Text book, notes and pictures lay scattered on the bed. Walking over, he picked up a few of the pictures and marveled at the various microbes depicted. Sally came out of the bathroom wearing a blue t-shirt and grey sweatpants.
Storm thought as she threw the towel over her shoulder.
"I made breakfast. You were studying?"
"Good morning. Yeah, I was looking at the pictures of some slides. Thanks for breakfast but I'm gonna leave now. I've imposed long enough."
"You're not imposing but you should eat if you're planning on studying more. I have some cases to review. You can stay and study if you like. It's nice and quiet."
"Thanks but I really should get going."
"Sally, come have breakfast and then make your decision after that."
"Okay."
~!~
Sally was sitting around the dining table trying to concentrate on what she was studying but it was almost futile. Try as she might, she couldn't get last night or breakfast this morning out of her head. Breakfast was scrambled eggs, bacon and toast with juice. The warm day accommodated them eating out on the patio.
"Tuesday but I also have a paper that's due."
"How much more before it's completed?"
"It's finished but I want to edit it again."
"Again? Are you always this much of a perfectionist?"
"I'm not a perfectionist," but when she looked up at Storm and saw that one raised left eyebrow, she smiled and looked away knowing he wasn't buying anything she was saying. "I want it to be right."
He smiled. "Come on let's get you back to studying."
"Thanks for breakfast but..."
"Sally, by the time you pack up, get home, unpack and get settled again to begin studying, you'd have lost your momentum. Stay and study. I have some work to finish in the office anyway."
"Are you sure I won't be disturbing you?"
"Help me with the dishes please?"
"Yes, of course."
It was two hours later and she didn't remember what she read thirty minutes ago. Try as she might, she couldn't hide the truth behind her distraction...she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to kiss Storm and didn't know how.
~!~
Storm put down the file he was reading and looked back at his computer screen. Running his hand over his face, he took a deep breath and released it. It was stupid but he wanted to go out there and watch her study. He felt like a school boy with his first crush. Sighing in defeat, he got up and went to get something, anything so he could talk with her again, hear her laugh. She was still sitting at the table but instead of reading, she was staring out the glass door. She seemed confused and distracted.
"Hey are you okay?" Storm asked which startled Sally. "I didn't mean to startle you. Do you want something to eat? You've been at it for a while now. Want to take a break?"
"Yeah, I probably should take a break but I'm going to get my things..."
"Why do you want to leave so badly? Do I make you that uncomfortable?"
"Why do you want me to stay?" Sally asked softly.
"Because I enjoy your company."
"You don't..."
"I'm trying to get to know you but you keep trying to run away. Stay, have lunch with me."
~!~
Storm convinced Sally to stay for dinner. She was wearing jeans again with her wedges and a simple white t-shirt. They were standing by the door having just returned from dinner.
"Well, I'm going to get my things. Thanks for a very nice day and evening."
"Thank you for joining me."
Sally smiled and walked away. Storm stood at the door trying to think of a way to convince her to stay longer, but when she returned quickly, he realized she had packed before they left for dinner. Coming to the door, she stopped in front of him.
"Well thanks again for the job and everything. Have a nice week."
"Thanks for watching Benji and for spending the day. We should do this again sometime. I like hanging out with you."
Sally smiled happily. "Thank you, it was nice."
Storm bent to her and her soft, clean scent engulfed him. His lips gently touched her cheek and lingered a bit longer than it should as he relished the feel of her skin. Lifting his head just a margin, he looked in her wide eye stare and slowly lowered his lips until they gently pressed against hers. She didn't pull away from him and he cupped her face, deepening the kiss. Her lips were very soft and he savored the fresh taste of her. Hearing her release the breath she was holding, he knew he had both won and loss. Some of her barriers were down but he had lost the battle to control himself. He wanted her, badly.
She pulled away, breaking the kiss. Storm looked down and saw her rapidly beating pulse.
"I have to go," she said hurriedly and picked up her bag, opened the door and left.
Storm reached for her hand, "Sally,"
"Have a nice night." She pulled her hand free and left.
As Storm looked at the closed door, he remembered a particular moment he watched on the surveillance feed. Benji had curled up next to her on the couch while she studied and when she felt asleep he stayed curled beside her. The only other person he did that with was Ayasha.
~!~
The week went by in a daze because all Sally could think of was the kiss. She wanted to feel it again. His lips were firm but soft and moved with such precision over hers. The experience was one she would never forget. He had sent her a text that night wanting to know if she got home safely to which she had replied. But over the last few days he sent her more text messages. She kept her answers short, telling herself nothing could come of it anyways. The kiss was only a fluke. It would never happen again. It was time for her to let go of the fantasy.
Sally continued to stare at the ocean, something she'd been doing entirely too much since the day she left Storm's. Turning around abruptly, she didn't expect to face Storm's hard muscled chest. She almost fell backwards, but he reached out in time to grab her arms, steading her.
"You don't have to fall at my feet to show me how happy you are to see me," Storm said smiling.
"What are you doing here?"
"I sent you a message asking if you wanted to catch a movie or something but you didn't reply. Busy?"
Sally looked away guilty. She had received the text message and wanted to go but was too afraid to reply. "Yeah...I'm busy but thanks for the invite."
"What night are you not busy?"
"I'm busy every night. Sorry." Sally tried to walk away but Storm held on to her arm.
"No movie, late dinner, this Saturday."
"I can't..."
"I'll pick you up at about ten." Storm turned and walked away.
"No place is opened at that hour."
"Let me worry about that. Be ready at that time."
Sally didn't have to work that night.
~!~
Sally glanced at the speedometer...120mph,
she said to herself as she pushed herself to go faster. Try as she might, she couldn't come up with a good reason to get out of the date this Saturday. She bent into the corner and came out smoothly like she knew she would. Being on this stretch of road without any cops or other bikers was what she needed. She had to find a way out of this fantasy in her head. It was becoming an obsession if it wasn't already.
She got to the four way stop and stopped. Sitting up on the bike, she took deep breaths as the readied herself for another pounding session. But suddenly another bike stopped next to her. She looked over and the biker and bike seem to be one; clothes and bike color almost the same. He looked over at her and nodded. She knew her bike was not match for the Ducati 1098s but if she was going to get her ass kicked it might as well be by the best, she thought. She nodded and revved her bike. The other biker did the same also.
They took off and it didn't take long for him to pass her but he kept dropping back his speed to stay by her side mostly. She rode hard, taking her bike past 140mph but she knew it was still no match for the monster beside her. Soon she would be able to purchase the bike she wanted but loyalty forbade her to rid herself of her trusty companion. She smiled at the thought and glanced over to the rider who was beside her. He looked at her, nodded and then took off. He bent into the curve smoothly, melting, bike and rider becoming one. She smiled, it was a beautiful sight.
The rider was waiting for her at the stop sign. Pulling up next to him, she took off her helmet and turned, shocked to see Storm staring back at her.
"You ride?" she asked.
"So do you and very well too. I don't meet a lot of women who can ride at that speed."
"Thanks."
"Want to go again?"
"I love riding but I'll pass on the humiliation."
"No racing just riding. Come on, ride with me."
"I have to go."
"Why? You just got here."
"Good night...be safe."
"Don't bail on me this Saturday."
~!~
Dinner was at an elegant restaurant and at nine instead of ten. She was dressed in an ivory linen dress with two inch heels. Her hair was wrapped in a bun and once again her only make-up was her lip-gloss. The square bodice of the dress showed off the top of her cleavage and the cut of the dress synched her waist and flared off her hip to hint at her hour glass figure. They were walking in the garden area of the plaza where they just dined. Storm kept the conversation going while she wondered what she was doing there with him.
"How was your exam this past week?"
"We didn't take it so now I have three next week."
"That's a lot. How do you feel about them?"
"I feel good. I'll be fine."
"Good. Did you turn your paper in as of yet?"
"Yeah, this week."
"What grade do you think you'll...Sally, Sally what's wrong?" Storm asked when he turned to see why she had stopped.
"I...I need to sit, please."
"Yes, of course," Storm said as he brought her to a bench. "Are you okay? Do you want me to call the ambulance?"
"No, no...I'm fine. I just need to rest for a moment." After a few minutes, "I think I had too much wine."
"I didn't know...you didn't say..."
"No, I wanted to try it and it was delicious. I just have to get used to it." But the dizziness remained.
Sally's head felt a little heavy as she very slowly opened her eyes. She didn't want to move from the very comfortable bed but on wobbly legs, made her way to the bathroom. Realizing it wasn't her bathroom, she looked down at herself and noticed also that the clothes she was wearing wasn't hers either, even though she was still wearing her bra and underwear.
She quietly made her way to the bedroom door but stopped at the door to look at Storm sleeping in the bed.
As Sally turned to leave she heard, "Where are you going?" and turned around as Storm sat up and turned on the light next to him. Sacred, she looked down at herself trying to think of something to say. He got out of bed and stood before her. "How are you feeling?"
"How did I get here?"
"You mean in my room, in my bed?" She nodded.
"You had a bit too much wine. When I brought you back, I helped you undress, put you in my shirt and bed. Nothing happened besides you slept. How do you feel?"
"Better thanks."
"Good. Now come back to bed."
"I'll sleep in the other room..."
"Why?"
Sally looked away then back at Storm. She couldn't explain it but the need to touch him was strong and frightful. Not wanting to begin something she couldn't control, she turned to walk away but Storm held her hand and brought her back to him.
"I won't hurt you," he said moving her hair behind her ear.
His fingers gently moved along her jaw to her chin where he tilted her head up as his lip descended to hers. Tenderly his lips moved against hers and the heat she felt the last time they kissed was back instantly. His tongue sought entrance beyond her lips and she granted it slowly, knowing she didn't have the ability to deny him. He wrapped his arms around her securing her to him as he walked her backwards. They broke apart when the back of her legs hit the bed and she grabbed on to him for support. He began kissing her again but it was all too much too fast and she pushed him away causing him to take a step back. She was flustered, confused and the look in his eyes were hungry.
He demanded control over her mind and body and she was close to giving it to him. She tried to move past him but he held her arms not allowing her to pass.
"Sally, I'm very attracted to you," Storm said gently waiting for her response.
She gasped, "What? I have to go," she said and tried to move past him again.
His hands cupped her face gently, "I won't hurt you."
Sally looked away. "Please, I have to go."
"Why?" He kissed her cheek.
"I can't...I don't..."
"Sally I want to make love to you, do you want to with me?"
"I...I'm not as...as experienced," she whispered.
Storm smiled and tilted her face to him, "Good, don't think, feel."
His kiss began gently then intensified when he felt her hands move up his arms and rest on his shoulders. His hands moved up, dragging both the t-shirt and her body temperature along its upward path. The kiss ended temporarily for Storm to remove the shirt but when Sally covered herself, he pulled her to him and kissed her hungrily, plundering her mouth with more force and directness than before.
He moved her hands to his back and his muscles jumped where her fingers touched. She hurriedly tried to remove her hand thinking she had hurt him somehow, but Storm tightened his arms round her like a band, restraining her from leaving their circle. She pulled back from the kiss to look up at him, "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Pearly white teeth smiled down at her as Storm tilted her face up. "You're sorry for being beautiful? I've never heard anyone apologize for that before." A shy smile played at her lips as she looked down. "I didn't think so. Touch me."
She looked back at him and the fear that had just left with his compliment came back with his order. Taking a deep breath, Sally moved her shaking hands inch by inch up his torso to his shoulders. She kept her gaze on her moving hands and inhaled a quick breath when he cover her hands with his and moved them around his neck. Her fingers knotted themselves in the hairs at the back of his head and when he kissed her again she tightened her hold on him, crushing her breast into his chest.
She didn't know he had moved her to lie down until her back touched the bed and he covered her with his body. Keeping the bulk of his weight from her, he kissed down her body making her arch into him. Guided by her natural instinct to respond to him, Sally's moans came effortlessly and her muscles quiver and jumped where his lips touched. The heat between her legs built and they moved a part of their own accord to allow him to settle in-between. He reached her mound and placed a gentle kiss on top as his hands roamed up and down her legs, kissing along her inner thighs. Sally grabbed his hair not sure if she wanted him to stop or continue and her stomach quiver again as he made is way up her body and taking a breast in his mouth, licking and sucking on each nipple as he tried to make her forget the world around her.
He moved to her side without breaking the kiss while his hand moved down her body to stop at her heat. She gasped when his finger touched her swollen clit and closed her legs on his hand. He moved over her, maneuvering her on her back again and forced her head back into the pillow as he deepened the kiss. She tugged at the hand between her legs but it didn't move. Relaxing again, her legs opened slightly and it was all he needed, his finger tip moved along the receptive outer engorged lips of her pussy. Her grip on his wrist tightened but his fingers didn't stop and gradually her acceptance grew until slowly one finger began to enter her heat.
She took a deep breath as his finger began to move slowly in and out and he took a hard nipple into his mouth. He withdrew his finger and made a slow journey to her tiny button. Her entire body shook as he alternated between entering and withdrawing and touching her little button. The sensations grew until they felt overwhelming. Then she couldn't breathe. Everything intensified and she pushed at his hand, terrified of what was coming.
"No. Stop," she pleaded.
"Yes...yes," he said as he continued to rub her clit gently.
She tried pushing at his shoulder but it was unmovable. His finger gently entered her again and again. He kissed her deeply as her body tightened further, preparing for an impact she had never felt before. She turned away from him, breaking the kiss.
"What? No..."
"Breathe sweetheart, breathe. Let it go," he whispered in her ear. "Don't fight it, Sally. Let it go."
Upon his command, she stopped fighting and it burst upon her. Her eyes closed and she screamed while she grabbed his wrist and held it as her legs clamped closed. Her back and neck arched as she tried to breathe through the intense sensation rushing through her body like liquid heat. Her eyes opened and she looked up at him startled as she gasped for air and closed her eyes again.
"That's it baby, yes, let it go. Breathe baby breathe."
A while later, she opened her eyes again but she kept seeing what she thought were stars. Her breathing had not come back to normal but she no longer felt like she was suffocating. The tension that had knotted her body had eased a bit living a languid feeling in its place. He kissed her and she got lost in the taste of him as he settled between her legs. She didn't see him put the condom on but she did feel his hands move to her junction as he placed himself at her opening. He gently entered her and her body opened for him. She looked up at him when he stopped thinking he was fully in her and
took several breaths as she stared back at him.
"Open your legs wider," he whispered in her ear. She obeyed. "Hold on to me tighter."
She gripped his shoulders stronger as he kissed her again and this time surged into her in one solid thrust. Her body tightened at his massiveness and she tried to twist away from him but his kiss was unbreakable, and he swallowed down her moan even as he held himself still, giving her time to adjust. He withdrew and reentered slowly and her body tensed as the new sensation washed over her. Steadily his thrusts increased as she gripped him tighter. His lips moved along her collar to her breast to suck her nipple into his mouth and flick his tongue over it until she cried out, before moving to the other. He kissed her again, deeply and the feeling he created intensified and spread through her body.
She heard his voice again in her ear as she struggled for control. "Breathe baby breathe," and again she tried to breathe normally. "Let it go...don't fight it baby."
"Storm..."
"Sally, don't fight it."
Her walls clamped down on him hard as he pushed in. His head was bent to her neck as she screamed and dug her nails into his shoulders. She heard his heavy breathing and felt his body go ridged. It was a many minutes later before she was able to open her eyes and take a labored breath. They looked at each other and Storm kissed her before gently withdrawing from her. Immediately she felt the loss. She didn't see when Storm remove the used condom and threw it in the trash. She didn't when he left the bed and got a towel to clean her up. But when he came back to bed and gathered her in his arms, she was asleep before her head hit his chest.
~!~
|
Robert was standing behind my wife rubbing the lotion in firmly. Her legs were spread with her feet set about a foot apart. Her white thong was not visible as it was buried deep between her curvy cheeks. The micro bikini became visible where the top of her crotch started. Although it covered most of the entrance to her welcoming hole, it was so small both lips where outside of the material.
Robert stared at her prized pussy intently and confidently as rubbed the lotion in, continuing up her calfs and moving above the knee. When he reached the hamstring he shifted to stand on her left side. His strong hands where rubbing the inside of her thighs and he moved them skillfully to the outside of her leg. He moved up the leg pinching the excess flesh of Alice's milky white inner thighs. She began to moan softly with each stroke.
At this point I sat in a chair by the bed and shifted my eyes between my wife's eyes and Robert's hands. I decided something in this moment. I was going to subtlety let my wife know I was enjoying this and give off signals that I want it to be more than a sunblock applying body rub. That I'm hoping to see her bounce up and down on that big black cock! So I began to rub my little cock over my shorts. I also started to bite my lower lip.
He moved to her other side. At the top of her right leg, right below my favorite part of Alice, the fleshy fold where her ass meets her leg, is a brilliantly colored tattoo of a pink lily. Robert had reached this part and after the lotion was applied, he stopped and asked her to roll over. He then went down the front of her leg as masterfully as he did the back. He reversed, starting with the top of her leg and working his way down to the ankle.
As he began to apply the sunblock to her upper thigh he was really squeezing her flesh and working the inside of her thigh. He seemed to be respecting the agreement not to touch her flower but it was hard to tell. Alice was moaning louder. This could have been because his pinky was gently coming in contact with her clit. But her inner thigh is very sensitive so it could have been that as well.
Down her left thigh is a green, red and yellow dragon tattoo that goes past the knee and wraps around onto her calf. He slowly rubbed lotion on every inch of her right leg and made eye contact with me and smiled tauntingly. This was not the first wife to which he applied sunblock. He told Alice to turn over again. She complied and was back on her stomach with her bubble butt in the air.
Robert then grabbed the lotion and straddled Alice. She was lying prone on her belly. Robert had one knee on each side of her hips and shifted his crotch comfortably to fit right at the base of Alice's ass. He leaned forward and began applying the sunblock to her shoulders and arms.
Alice had her hands under her face. Her arms were bent at the elbows. She had her eyes closed but would open them occasionally to look at me. Although he was so tall and Alice was short, he needed to lean forward to reach all of her arms. As he leaned forward, he took the opportunity to slowly grind his pants-protruding cock into her soft fleshy ass. His pants were really straining and the outline of the ridge on the tip of his penis was now visible through them. And god, the head was huge and really far down his pant leg.
After working his way down her back, stopping at the beautiful gypsy woman tattoo just above her waistline as agreed, he moved back away from her ass. I caught a great view of her pressed ass rounding out again the moment his crotch lost contact with it. He put his hands on her waist and powerfully turned her around. She looked at him with a face I never saw her make before. A face of desire I maybe never saw anyone make before.
Her legs were on either side of him as he knelt on the bed, Alice on her back. He grabbed her legs and yanked her forward. Powerless in his grasp, her body flew forward and slid up his legs stopping abruptly when her barely covered twat hit the protruding bulge in his pants. I guess this was in compliance with the agreement but it was clearly moving towards something more.
He grabbed the bottle and squeezed a generous portion of the lotion on her belly. As he leaned over to rub it in, Alice started writhing and grinding his cock. Robert humped back as he worked the lotion into her stomach. Alice is not fat at all as I said but just fleshy enough to look great and be soft to the touch. Robert moved around the underside of her breasts and then to the side of them. He looked over at me as if to say I'm respecting the agreement, but not for long.
When he got above Alice's breasts, he put both hands around her neck as if he were ready to choke her. He began to squeeze harder and harder applying lotion but really engaging in sexual choking. Alice's moans had been growing louder but now were audible to passers by of our open first floor patio door. Luckily the curtain was drawn so they could not witness the embarrassment I was about to suffer.
As Robert tightened his grip, Alice was clenching the sheets tightly and pulling herself forward to rub her now soaking pussy on his throbbing mound of meat. Her bikini bottom was soaked and her juices were visible on Robert's pants. Robert had finished applying the lotion as agreed, but he was not finished.
Robert turned to me, with my wife rubbing her cunt up and down on his pants, looked me in the eye and said "I'm going to fuck dis yellow bitch, boy." I said nothing, I nodded, I was so excited. The shame had subsided and I was just feeling the ecstasy of my inhibitions subsiding. I was finally going to see Alice fucked by a huge black cock. Robert of course didn't need an answer from me, he was going to fuck her.
With that, Robert took his left hand off of Alice's neck and moved the right one under her head. He grabbed the back of her hair and pulled her up towards his open mouth and jammed his tongue into my wife's mouth. Alice was now straddling him, her legs bent, her arms around his thick shoulders holding on and kissing him. They passionately kissed as she grinded his crotch in a back and forth motion. The only time she wasn't moaning was when their tongues were too intertwined for it to be possible.
Robert then grabbed her inner thigh. His fingers must have been 6 inches long. Everything about this stud was built to please a hot little Asian slut. Robert shifted my wife a little to achieve a good angle and then inserted his right middle and ring finger into her pussy. Alice screamed in pleasure. I could see the outline of a woman passing by outside through the semi-translucent curtain stop and look in startled. But she moved on as it was obvious they were sex screams, common at an adult resort.
Her soaking flower easily accepted every inch of his fingers. It was so wet and the inch or so of fabric from her bikini bottom was clearly not much of an obstacle. Robert's fingers slid in and out of my wife's accepting hole. He pulled her forward by her cunt and varied the speed. He made a "come here motion" and Alice helped herself as she slid up and down. I cocked my neck to see what was happening and saw white cream drip out of Alice and down Robert's hand. I had never made Alice produce any fluids.
As Robert continued to finger blast her, the noises she was making indicated the level of pleasure she was experiencing. She would moan and scream. She would repeat "o god" over and over in a gasping-for-air voice. When the orgasm happened it started with a scream that could be heard at the front desk, which is about 300 yards away. It continued in an echoing high pitched groan that is common amongst Asian porn stars.
There was a gushing amount of lady juice pouring out of her pussy. It came in three streams, but I estimate the first one lasted about 8 seconds. It squirted all over Robert's hand and pants. It poured onto our comforter.
Robert slowly pulled his fingers out of Alice. He grabbed her hair with his left hand, and without letting her catch her breath he began to rise from his kneeling position on the bed and pulled Alice with him by her hair. She stumbled a bit and then they were both standing right before me, about a foot in front of me. Robert's 6'5" frame towered over my tiny Alice. Robert said "get on your knees bitch."
This had gone on for about 20-30 minutes but now was the part I anticipated the most. As Alice quickly obliged and dropped to her knees, I knew this cock was seconds away from hitting her tonsils! Robert motioned to her to open his pants and unleash that black monster.
Alice unbuttoned Robert's pants and slowly unzipped them. He was not wearing underwear and his pubic area was shaved. We could see the top of his cock and the indent were it was attached to his body made by the strain of this humongous organ being restricted by tight pants. Alice put her hands on the side of his pants and attempted to pull them down.
Alice strained as the pants were tight and his penis was not making it easier. She shifted her weight to get some leverage and finally yanked them down. As his pants fell an 8-9 inch black anaconda sprung into the air and began bouncing up and down. It hit Alice in the face in fact. The thickness of it was mesmerizing. I am not sure that it could fit through a woman's bracelet.
Alice was both excited and scared. The thought of getting fucked by this natural wonder of a dick but remember that she is a small girl with a tight Asian pussy. I love my wife but there was no doubt I wanted to see this thing tear her up! Alice cupped his balls and began to feel it, a look of wonderment on her face.
When she was ready to accept this beast in her mouth, she grabbed the base firmly. Her hand made it only about half way around his cock. Alice opened her mouth and Robert stopped her. We were both surprised but quickly learned why. He looked at me and said "get your faggot ass over here."
I was surprised but he was forceful and authoritative. I jumped from seat and took a half step forward. I secretly was hoping he was going to force us both to suck it but also thought that may be a little too much exposing of my desires for our first time. My wife was on her knees, holding his massive meat and I was standing next to her on her right side. Robert said, "take you little white boy dicky out, let this bitch see both of dem and choose," he said with a confident smile.
This, and more, was always part of my fantasy but as I said no one close to me knew this. And I was glad I did not have to throat a black cock in front Alice, yet....
This was clearly where I wanted this week to progress to but it's natural to go one step at a time. To this point I had always been a man in front of Alice and this was happening fast. Although I was embarrassed and confused I was going to unleash my 4 incher. You don't disobey an imposing man such as Robert.
I unbuttoned my shorts and let them drop to the floor. I was also not wearing underwear. My dick however did not cause any issue with getting my shorts off and it did not spring out of my pants quite as dramatically as Robert's.
My cock is smaller than average. Not a micro penis but on the small side. It is thin, if I wrap my index finger and thumb around it I can touch the middle of my index finger. My sack and balls are not very big either and I'm in okay shape and active but have a dad body. To further assert his dominance, Robert told me to take off my shirt.
As I stood there naked the contrast was incredible. Here was this chiseled black stud with a 6 pack (he took his shirt off when I did) and a nine inch massively thick cock standing straight out an inch from my wife's face. And I was standing there with a thin, hard 4 inch cock pointing up towards my spare tire. Robert was laughing and said to Alice "so bitch, time to choose, which dick you gonna suck." He laughed. Alice obviously tightened her grip on Robert's dark ebony rod and began to lick the tip gently while staring up at him with the sexiest fuck me eyes.
With that Robert put his hand on my chest and pushed me with one hand. I flew back into my chair. He grabbed the back of Alice's head and jammed that big black cock down her throat. Robert had been sensual the whole time but that part was over. He was goin to fuck Alice like the Asian black cock whore she longed to be.
He fucked her face hard for about a minute. Thrusting violently in and out. Alice gagged and drooled. Her eyes were closed tightly and she gasped for air. Her saliva dripped down his shaft and onto the floor as he continued to thrust in and out of my wife's mouth.
Robert looked down at Alice and said "you like it rough bitch? I know you ain't gettin no hard fucking from dis tiny dicked white boy." Alice nodded kind of and made some positive consent noise as she was still getting fucked in the mouth. Robert then pulled out to give her a break.
Alice caught her breath but never let go of he jet black huge penis. She was looking at it in wonder, her pussy still dripping wet from the fingering. She looked so sexy gazing at his dick, moving it up to see the underside. Licking the shaft. Cupping and licking his shaved smooth sack with 2 balls that were probably the size of golf balls. Robert let her admire and caress, kiss and suck his cock at her own pace for about 3 minutes. But then he took control and went back to the brutal face fucking before grabbing her by the hair. He pulled her up from the floor. He was so strong it was like lifting a bag of groceries.
Alice looked a bit disheveled. Her mascara was running and she had drool on her chin from the brutal face fucking she just took. She was a little out of breath still as it had only been a few moments since that earth shattering orgasm Robert gave her. Robert told her to "take off dem panties and get on the bed now." Alice turned and slipped off her bikini bottoms and complied.
Alice looked amazing lying on the bed, her legs spread and her now open flower visible to me and waiting to accept Robert's cock. She looked nervous though. Robert walked over to her lying on bed and grabbed her calfs and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Just as he was about to finally enter my wife he noticed something, and he paused and laughed. He was looking at the tattoo that is on Alice's pussy, that gets covered by pubes when it is not there.
Robert turned to me and said "how many dem black boys dis bitch been fuckin" and laughed hard. I was confused. Alice and I had not talked about it much. Like I said, I had inhibitions. I wanted to know how many and hear all the details because I wanted to be a BBC cuckold. And she would take opportunities to make sure I knew she had black cock, often mentioning that the guy right before me was black and they worked together at a bar. She also said one day that she always figured she would date a basketball player. She would fish but I would not take the bait. I would ask but not in a I'm turned on and want to know way. So she would just answer I don't know the number.
But why is he asking me this as he's about to split my wife in half? Then it hit me. The tattoo. I figured out what it meant. It was a capital Q. The lines of the Q were about a half inch thick and a perfect sideways rectangle with a fancy squiqily line completing it. In the middle was a jet black spade about 1 inch by 1 inch. I realized that queen of spades must be a term for girls that worship black cock.
I didn't answer. I just smiled embarrassingly and many thoughts were going through my head. Mostly excitement, I mean Alice must have fucked a ton of black dudes if she had that tat. I did though take my hand of my little cock and get up to get a better angle. A porn sized black cock was about to enter my wife and I wanted a good seat. So I got up and moved to the bed, about two feet from Alice.
As I moved to the bed Robert taunted me some more to the effect that my wife was about to experience a real cock. It was really turning me on but also embarrassing me a bit. I was just looking at my wife and the monster dick that was about to impale her. And she was not looking at me. She was getting ready. As I was getting settled, I moved to sit on my knees and watch so I could crank my dick, Robert warned me not to get my faggot cum anywhere near him and suggested that there may be consequences even if I cum.
Robert was standing at the edge of the bed, she was on her back. As I said he had pulled Alice to the edge, her legs were up in the air resting on his massive chest. Her ass was pressed against his thighs and his massive cock was laying in between her legs resting on her pelvis but went almost all the way up to her tits. There were three visible veins on his dick that made it more amazing. One was practically the thickness of my cock! I was mesmerized by this. She was still catching her breath.
Alice had enjoyed the orgasm and was practically dripping when she was gently stroking his big black cock and running her tongue along the underside of his shaft. However the face fucking, which did turn her on, was a little rough so this 2 minutes or so break Robert took to humiliate me was welcomed by her. Also she had to mentally prepare for this monster that was about to be inside her. I fixed my glance on Alice's face and wanted her to look at me, but she was staring at Robert's cock in anticipation.
She was nervous about accepting his massive member but she was so wet and turned on she couldn't wait. She all of a sudden screamed "Fuck me." With that, Robert moved his hips back, lined his cock up with my wife's wanting gape (there was no need to use his hands as his dick was so hard and her cunt so wet it slid right into place) and got ready to thrust. The massive head, a perfect mushroom shape was filled with blood and still growing as the impaling was about to begin.
I'll never forget that first thrust. Robert powered that big black cock into Alice's soaking pussy and she screamed in ecstasy. It was a scream that was definitely heard by the whole resort. It hurt a bit but she said later that it was more pleasure than pain. Not that he was considerate, it just couldn't all fit in her tiny chink cunt, but he did not go in all the way. I can't imagine that Alice was ever filled this much (although I came to learn she had; often). The first 6 or so strokes were an even pace and my wife started to scream at about the 8th pump. At pump 10 or 11 came the second gushing. It sprayed everywhere.
Robert then began thrusting with full force. His veiny cock pummeling my wife. Each time it came out, more of her thick white lady cum was on his shaft. The noise was driving me crazy. Both the slapping sound of his powerful thighs on her fleshy bubble butt and her dirty talk. She kept repeating "beat that pussy up", "tear that pussy up." Robert told me to lean forward and put my face close but be very careful not to touch his penis.
After slamming my wife's gaping twat for about five minutes he pulled out. He flipped her over on her stomach and put his hands on her hips. He pulled her ass up to his cock so was sitting doggy style on the end of the bed. He leaned over a bit and let some spit drop into her ass crack. He then took his thumb and started slowly pressing it into her ass.
As he moved his thumb further into her asshole Alice began to tremble. It felt good. Alice and I had been anal training her. But for my cock, not this outer worldly man meat. Robert noticed she liked it and looked at me and said, "I'm gonna fuck dis chink bitch in the ass now." Hearing that Alice sprung forward separating her ass from his thumb and said "NO."
At this point I got nervous. Alice did not want this massive cock in her ass but what could I do about it? Luckily, Robert didn't persist and Alice thought quick. She reached through her legs quickly and grabbed his cock, which is hard to miss, and quickly guided it into her cunt. Her soft pink front fuck hole quickly accepted and absorbed his cock.
As Robert pumped my wife from behind I moved to position myself in front of her. I figured I can't take anymore, and since I'm not allowed to cum near Robert I guess I can cum in my wife's mouth. I mean I'm watching an all time cock pound her doggy style! Her tits were hanging down from her chest, her nipples still covered by the little triangles, and bouncing like crazy as she slid back and forth on his cock. I needed to cum!
When I got in front of my wife Robert asked me what the fuck I was doing. I looked at him perplexed. He said "back up you white bitch, no faggot ass little white dick is gonna go and go inside dis bitch while you my island. I own dis ho, now go back and sit back ova dare."
Shocked but turned on I slinked back to my spot to watch what I knew was coming, Robert filling Alice with hot Rasta seed! Robert started thrusting harder and if he were not holding onto Alice's hips each thrust would knock her across the room. The sound of the slapping of thighs and ass must have been audible to the neighbors it was so loud. Robert's face started to strain and he started to let out a continued drone. I knew my wife was about to get bred.
To my surprise, Alice screamed for Robert to pull out. This angered him a bit but he did not lose focus. He was destroying her cunt with powerful thrusts and shouted "shut da fuck up u dumb bitch" and went back to his moan. Robert took his right hand off of Alice's hips and reached for her hair. He grabbed a handful and her head jerked back. Her neck was fully stretched out and I cannot describe the speed and power at which Robert was fucking her at this point. Using his left hand for leverage, he looked like a black rodeo cowboy. After about 30 seconds, which was just in time as he was about to pull her head off, Robert exploded and filled my wife.
My wife later described what it felt like when he came. His dick had her quivering already and her lady cum was everywhere. She had had one more squirt while still on her back. I think the doggy was too deep and painful. She was so wet already. When he exploded, she said there was this sensation like a hose squirting warm sticky water deep into her cunt. She felt so filled and satisfied.
Robert was done. He was not the cuddling type. He pulled out and my wife went forward, collapsing on her stomach. She reached down to gently caress her torn apart pussy. She did this because the gentle rubbing felt good, she was still on the brink of orgasm from the best fuck she had in a while, but also to hold everything in! She was a bit sore.
Robert began to put on his pants. He looked at me and said "ok, now go and get me my money." I asked him what money and he told me not to fuck with him. I was confused and he said "you think I fuck you wife for free mon, you crazy. Now go on and git me money."
I made one more attempt by describing how hot my wife is. He replied "dat don't matter, she the sevenent o ate wife dis week I fuck, now git me da money befoe we have a problem." I was a little powerless so I took out my wallet and asked him how much. He replied "how much u got? And it betta be enuff mon." He took my wallet and took out the 350 dollars I had and said that will do.
I have to say this was well worth the money but it was a bit uncomfortable now. I did want him to go. When he was dressed he put the money in his pocket and walked over to Alice. Alice, still on her stomach, looked up at his face and started stroking his cock gently told him that she needed him again. She started kissing his cock through his pants and told him not to worry about the money, that her husband has plenty. His and her own cum was still dripping from her pussy.
Robert replied "I know dat and I will be back." I own you while u on dis island. U know that right?" Alice of course replied that he owns her wherever she is. She said she needs a rest but would love for him to come back tonight if possible. Robert then said something that both scared me l, confused me and turned me on. He said "fuck dat bitch. U ain't get no rest. U have dis white cunt get over here and clean u cunt for my friends. They be here in about an hour. And make sure he got da money. These boys don't work at no resort and don't play around. Also u best have you ass ready. Day ain't gonna want to go into the same hole."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. What the fuck did we get ourselves into? But most shocking was Alice's response. She told Robert that she would do anything he says and not to worry about the money. She asked how many friends to which he grabbed her face and angrily replied "you don't ask no questions" he then leaned over, looked me in the eye with an intimidating stare and stuck his tongue deep down her throat. He stood up and looked at me and said "na go lick the cum from dat pussy white man, dem ruff boys gonna be here soon and gonna want fresh yellow pussy". And he left.
|
Loyalty and Limerence
Part 3
Chapter 10
Tuchanka
“
Jane
!” Garrus darted out of cover as the ground shook and spotted her where she lay on the ground, writhing as Lilith kneeled before her helplessly.
“It’s the thresher acid!” The krogan exclaimed, but Garrus didn’t need the explanation. Jane’s right side was hissing, coated in the corrosive acid as it bubbled and ate through her armored hard suit. She screamed again, her back arching as she thrust her head back, her eyes clenched shut with the intense pain.
“Spirits!” Garrus hissed, bile welling in his throat as realization and panic began to set in – he had no idea what to do.
“We need to get her to the tomkah!” Lilith insisted just as Shepard skidded to a stop on Jane’s other side. With as much care as they could afford, they picked her up and ran for the truck. They piled in through the hatch as the ground began shaking again.
“Get us the hell outta here!” Shepard barked as he locked the hatch behind himself, and the tomkah lurched forward as Kalros let loose another ear shattering shriek. It was tightly packed with barely enough space for everyone, but they squished together to make space as Garrus laid Jane down on the floor.
“Here, use this to wash her.” Eve handed over a huge canister of water, removing the cap. She nearly spilled some as the truck lurched to the side as they evaded another attack by the gigantic thresher maw. Mordin shoved past people to kneel beside Jane as she groaned through clenched teeth, sweat prickling her brow.
“Hurry, maw acid very corrosive, eats through armor in matter of minutes.” The salarian doctor instructed as together they began pouring the water over the extensive burns. Jane screamed as the water made contact, the acid having eaten through to her skin in more than one place. Garrus couldn’t do more than secure her head as she thrashed in pain.
“You're going to be alright, Jane.” He leaned down to whisper to her, though he had no idea if she was hearing him from where she was wrapped in a haze of agony, her face a rictus of pain. Shepard was holding her uninjured hand, her grip on his fingers enough to crush them as the tomkah was bounced around.
Garrus hated feeling helpless, but there was nothing he could do but offer her what support he was able as Mordin quickly set about moving the damaged sections of her armor, muttering to himself. Frustratingly, he was put in mind of their mission to catch Morinth, and he shuddered at the thought. He stroked Jane’ cheek gently and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as he continued whispering encouragements to her, glancing up as Mordin began applying medi-gel to sooth away what pain he could. She finally seemed to relax a little as the ointment began working its magic, enough for her to open her eyes blearily.
“Garrus?” She asked groggily, her voice hoarse, and he nodded.
“Hang in there, we’ll get you back to Normandy and you’ll be right as rain in no time. Chakwas and Mordin will make everything better, you’ll see.”
Their departure from Tuchanka was rushed as they carefully began transferring Jane to the shuttle under Mordin’s watchful eye. They said their goodbyes to the krogan, all of whom still seemed to be in shock at the success of their mission to disperse the cure.
Shepard had received their grateful thanks as well as assurances that they would be sending reinforcements to Palaven right away. He thanked them in turn before returning his focus to getting his sister back to the Normandy as quickly as possible. They got her onto a stretcher, still somewhat delirious from the pain, and firmly secured before the door closed.
As soon as the door opened onto the Normandy’s shuttle bay floor, Shepard quickly cleared the path for Jane to be hurried to the med bay, where they were greeted by an already prepped and waiting Dr. Chakwas. Mordin hurried in with them, while Garrus, Shepard, and the others were expectedly told to wait outside.
Garrus watched helplessly while Jane screamed in pain as they carefully transferred her onto one of the beds. A moment later, the EDI shuttered the windows, leaving nothing to see but a cloudy haze. Turning away, he began to restlessly pace through the mess hall, his dirty armored boots clanking on the metal floor in rhythm with Shepard’s vibrating knee a few yards off.
He wasn’t sure how long he paced, all he could think of was the horrible, oozing, red burns that had been visible as Mordin had begun removing sections of Jane’s armor and undersuit. In addition to her entire right arm, a good deal of that side of her torso had seemed affected, with some catching her right hip and leg. There had even been a few splatters up her neck and across her cheek, though those had seemed somewhat small and superficial once they’d gotten it all washed off of her.
The damage had been extensive, that was for sure. But he reminded himself that Jane was strong and her vitals had been stable.
Jane is strong and her vitals are stable. Jane is strong and her vitals are stable. Jane is strong and her vitals are stable…
The words played like a mantra over and over in his head as he paced back and forth. Shepard came and went periodically, trying and failing to focus on the work at hand as he watched the shuttered windows with the same desperation that Garrus felt. Liara did her best to assist with the necessary reports, but Garrus barely noticed the coming and goings of others as he paced. At some point, Shepard ordered him to go clean himself up at the very least, which he agreed was probably for the best. As soon as he was showered and dressed, however, he found himself right back in the mess hall, pacing the same line in the floor.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard a door open, but it wasn’t until he heard Shepard speak that Garrus whipped around to see Chakwas standing before them with an empty mug, thoroughly exhausted.
“How’s Jane? Is she going to be okay?” Shepard asked suddenly, and even though she nodded, her expression remained troubled.
“She’ll live. The damage was quite extensive on her right side, though, and there is only so much Dr. Solus and I could do with the equipment onboard. She’s going to need specialized treatment on the Citadel as soon as possible if she’s to recover full functionality.”
“I understand.” Shepard nodded before looking up toward the ceiling. “EDI, tell Joker to set a course for the Citadel ASAP. I want us there immediately, if not sooner.”
“
Of course, Shepard.”
“Is she awake? Are we allowed to see her?” Garrus asked with trepidation. This wasn’t the first time he waited anxiously to visit her in the medbay and he hated admitting that it probably wouldn’t be the last. Regardless, he tried not to shudder as Morinth came floating into his memory again.
“Yes, she is awake, though she is
supposed
to be resting.” Chakwas warned as the two men hurried past her and into the medbay. As they stepped into the brightly lit room, they noticed Jane smiling tiredly at them from where she lay, a good deal of her body wrapped in bandaging. Mordin nodded to them from where he stood nearby as he flicked his finger across the display of a datapad.
“Hey, guys.” She muttered, wincing as she shifted. “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” Garrus couldn’t help but chuckle at her laidback attempt at humor, but he could see Shepard’s eyebrows drawn down in frustration.
“Jane, I swear to god, you must have a deathwish or something.” He growled as his eyes swept over her bandaged body. His expression soften as he examined the fresh scarring visible on her cheek and neck where it peeked out from under the dressing.
“Well, nice to see you, too.” She rolled her eyes, but she smiled as Shepard sat down beside her.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” He muttered as he smiled back at her. “Lilith probably owes you her life.” Jane tried to shrug, but gasped in pain as she settled back down. Garrus came around to her other side and bent down to nuzzle her good cheek lightly.
“How are you feeling?” He asked as she shifted slightly, her uninjured hand coming up to take his.
“I feel fine, unless I move. Then I feel like I’ve been flayed alive.” She chuckled before wincing slightly, and Garrus tried not to frown as worries set in.
“Not that this isn’t a bad one, but I feel like we’ve dealt with worse on the Normandy in the past.” Shepard stated he looked up at the scarred side of Garrus’ face before turning to look at Mordin. “What is it about her injuries that we can’t handle? Why does she need to be taken to the Citadel?”
“Thresher maw acid, very strong. Enzymes and chemical makeup, very difficult to treat. Kalros’ acid, particularly powerful. Nerve damage and extensive scarring more than we’re able to handle aboard Normandy with wartime ration of medical supplies. Need specialized equipment, medication,” He paused and looked at Jane before taking a big breath. “Time to heal.”
“I see.” Shepard murmured as he nodded. “Don’t worry, we’ll be there in no time, and we’ll get you the care you need, Jane.”
When they finally got her transferred to Huerta Memorial Hospital, it was clear that the Citadel was starting to feel the weight of the galactic war against the Reapers. The hospital was so overrun with the injured that they weren’t immediately able to secure a bed for Jane, even with Shepard’s political pull.
Mordin pulled out his omni-tool and scanned her wounds where she sat in a wheelchair in the lobby before muttering to himself as Shepard came back from discussing the situation with Dr. Michel. “We should be able to get you a bed pretty soon, but I don’t know if soon means a few hours or a few days. Everything is a little crazy here right now, it seems.”
Jane glowered as she looked down at her bandages with evident frustration. “How long until I’m functioning again once I get the treatment that I need?” She looked up toward Mordin, who lifted a finger to his chin in consideration. He began rattling off a bunch of medical nonsense before pausing and looking back down at her.
“Hard to say, depends. Will discuss treatment plan with specialists upon admission. Possibly a week, maybe two. Could be more.” Jane’s lips pursed as she leaned her head back, her face pinched in tightly reigned anger as she gazed up at the ceiling high above them.
“That’s too long. You guys can’t just sit around on your hands for some unknown amount of time while I heal up.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jane. We’re not leaving you behind.” Garrus stated firmly, to which Shepard nodded curtly.
It was another two days until they were able to secure a bed for her and Mordin was able to begin drawing up a treatment plan for the burn and nerve damage. Garrus split his time staying with her and helping out with the turian refugee camps, but on the occasions he ran into Shepard, he could see he was becoming more and more stressed. Jane would soon be improving, but not as quickly as they’d hoped.
About a week into her treatment, Garrus was in her room as she was doing physical therapy, her arm stiff as she attempted to pick up a light weight.
“My fucking fingers don’t want to do what they’re supposed to do.” Jane growled as she struggled to keep her fingers curled. He could see them spasm suddenly, and she dropped the weight back onto the bed beside her. “And now I’m struggling with my old issues, too, because
fuck me
, I guess.” She spat with a sneer down at her hand. Garrus thought back to those weeks following her encounter with the Ardat-Yakshi, and sighed.
“You got through that, and you’ll get through this. I don’t know anyone as strong as you are.” Garrus placed his hand on her uninjured leg, and she turned a tired smile on him.
“Thanks. Glad I have you here with me.” Something in her smile shifted, a sad upturn to her eyebrows that left her looking somber. The door opened suddenly, and they both looked up to see Shepard step through the door, a tense look on his face. “John, what’s wrong?”
The Commander stood there for a moment, silently watching his sister from his spot just inside the doorway. His shoulders seemed to fall slightly before he stepped further into the room.
“I just heard from Hackett. Cerberus has been on the move.” Jane tensed at his words, suddenly alert.
“What are they up to?”
“They’ve made moves in a few different systems, none of it good. Hackett has asked me to investigate, to intervene if I can.” He explained carefully, his eyes scanning her face carefully. She went stock still, processing his words. The realization hit Garrus a moment later.
“
When
?” He asked quietly, and Shepard’s eyes flicked to him quickly before returning to Jane. After a moment, he answered.
“He wants me to head out as soon as possible, and I think he might be right.” He paused before continuing. “Jane, will you be alright remaining here while we investigate?” Garrus held his tongue, but struggled against the indignation welling up in his chest. How could he ask her that after they had promised they wouldn’t leave her behind?
Jane stared at her brother silently, her eyes narrowing. Garrus was put in mind of her stories of their childhood on the streets of Earth. He had to imagine it was a sore topic, she didn’t particularly enjoy talking about the period after Shepard had joined the military, her time spent on Earth alone. How could Shepard even
suggest
-
“Okay.” Garrus’ eyes shot back to Jane, wide in shock at her sudden answer. “But you’d better come back for me as soon as I’m fit to serve again.” She continued, a sharp edge to her voice. Shepard opened his mouth to agree, but she held up a hand. “And, I have a mission in the Caleston Rift that I’m going to need a hand with after you pick me up. I need to find a missing researcher, Dr. Garneau, on a mining asteroid there.”
The two siblings stared each other down, the air tense as Shepard considered the request. Finally, he nodded, seeming to relax. “Okay. We can make that happen. I’ll need more details when the time comes, though.”
“Of course.” Jane agreed, her face still hard. Garrus looked down to see her white knuckled fist gripping the bed sheet. He reached over to carefully place his hand atop hers.
“I’ll stay here with you, you won’t be alone.” He stated, but she shook her head as she turned a crooked smile on him.
“No, it’s okay Garrus. You said it yourself, I can do this. You go with John and watch his six. He needs you to watch his back and drag his ass back here in one piece since I can’t. I’ll be okay.” He frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but she cut in over him. “I’ve got Mordin here to keep me company whether I like it or not. Plus, Thane is just down the hall in case I’m feeling philosophical.” Garrus’s teeth clicked as he shut his mouth, his mandibles flicking in irritation.
“I don’t like leaving you behind.” He growled, but she only chuckled, her voice low as she shook her head.
“I’ll be okay, Garrus. Keep John safe for me. And don’t worry, the Citadel is probably the safest place for me at this point.”
The Normandy felt empty without her.
He
felt empty without her. Garrus never seemed to realize what a huge part of his life Jane was until she was gone. Everything was a shade dimmer without her. She had added a sparkle to every conversation, to every interaction, to every situation. Without Jane Shepard on the Normandy, it was a duller, less vibrant place.
And it wasn’t just him. Every one of the ground team seemed hesitant about leaving her behind in Heutra as they pulled away from the Citadel, except perhaps Javik. He was hard to read. But in the end, it was Shepard’s call to make, and he’d made it.
As Garrus stood at one of the consoles in the war room, he struggled to focus as he looked over the data pouring in from the turian forces being amassed to support the building of the crucible. He couldn’t shake his last conversation with Jane before he’d left to return to the Normandy.
She’d waited until they were alone and pulled him in for a tight hug, but instead of simply holding him, she leaned in close to whisper urgently in his ear.
“
Keep a close eye on John. He hasn’t been himself, and I can’t tell if it’s just the toll the war is taking on him, lack of sleep, or…"
She'd paused, hesitating before adding,
"Garrus, I don’t know what to think.”
She’d leaned her forehead down against his neck and he’d pulled her closer, savoring the feeling, memorizing the shape of her in his arms. After a heartbeat, she continued.
“
Back in the Bahak system, on that asteroid… He spent days unconscious in that base. They’d all been indoctrinated by that unshielded Reaper device. What if…”
She had trailed off, the overwhelming anxiety and worry evident in her voice. Neither of them had let go, holding onto each other like a lifeline in a storm.
“
What if… what if he’s been…”
She hadn’t seemed able to get the word out, but he understood as his stomach seemed to turn to ice. “
Garrus, keep a close eye on him. Tell me if you notice anything out of the ordinary. We can’t afford to let them have him. Not him. We’re all dead without John.”
“Garrus.” His head shot up and he looked around to see Shepard looking at him from a console nearby. He tried to keep his face neutral, but all he could think about was the word Jane couldn’t bring herself to say.
Indoctrinated.
“Need me for something, Shepard?” Garrus asked quickly as he shook his head in an attempt to dislodge the creeping worry in his veins.
“Yeah, can you get me the final number on the ships Victus can spare for the Crucible project? I need to send word to Hackett as soon as I can.”
“Of course, I’ll send you what information I have so far.” Before Garrus returned his attention to his console again, he took a moment to really look at the Commander. He was just as pale and worn as he had been the past few weeks, the bags under his eyes seeming more pronounced than ever. The frown he wore seemed a permanent fixture these days, especially since Jane’s injuries on Tuchanka. “You look exhausted, Shepard. Why don’t you go get some rest?”
Shepard didn’t even look up from his console. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” He grunted as his fingers continued typing. Garrus would have laughed if it’d been in any way funny. He remembered the exact same words coming out of Jane’s mouth just a few months back.
“We both know you need a clear head to win a war. There’s no room for mistakes here.” Garrus pointed out gently as he walked over and lifted a hand to place on the other man’s shoulder. He could feel Shepard sag a little as he sighed, and he pushed his advantage. “You should get some shut-eye.” After a pause, he continued in a teasing tone with a toss of his head, “I’ll make sure Joker doens’t launch any suicide missions.”
Shepard remained where he was for a moment before finally pushing back from the console. “Anything happens, you let me know.”
Garrus breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. As Shepard left the room in the direction of the CIC, Garrus let himself relax slight. Jane’s worries had to be unfounded. The Commander just needed some sleep, that was all. They
had
to be unfounded. They just had to be, or else they were all doomed.
Noveria was just as cold as it had been the last time they’d be there, and Garrus hated every second of it. Not only was he shivering the entire mission, but fighting without Jane at his back made him feel naked, exposed.
This was the third Cerberus base they’d hit in the past two weeks, this one being a key strategic location in the sector. They’d managed to sneak in the back and decimate their defenses. As they waited for Cortez to bring the shuttle around for a pick up, Garrus noticed Shepard frown as he kicked aside a chunk of smoking mechanical debris.
“What’s on your mind, Shepard?”
“It’s… probably nothing.” He looked around the base, the cold, biting wind catching them suddenly. “It’s just odd. I expected them to put up more of a fight. This was a key base, I figured it would have been better defended. But there was hardly anyone here.”
He had a point. Cerberus usually put up a bigger fight, and taking this base shouldn’t have been this easy. But then again, perhaps Cerberus was just stretching themselves too thin. They seemed to be everywhere all at once, and perhaps this was part of the consequences.
After they got back to the Normandy and had washed up, both Shepard and Garrus made their way back to the war room. As they began working through their backlog of messages, Garrus’ eyes widened in pleasant surprise.
He opened the message from Jane, which he saw had been sent to Shepard as well, and read through it quickly. Looking up, he noticed the Commander’s pleased smile.
“Looks like Jane’s ready and eager to get back in the fight." Shepard chuckled. "Says she’s ordered a new hardsuit and everything. What do you think about swinging back to the Citadel before the next mission? Pick up my prodigal sister?” Garrus laughed, his chest feeling lighter and freer than it had since before Tuchanka. He could see a lessening of the ever present tension in Shepard’s face, and knew that he’d be just as relieved to have Jane back as he was.
“Well, you certainly don’t need to twist
my
arm.” Garrus replied with a smile.
The lightness in his chest seemed to put a spring in his step the following days as they made their way back to the Citadel. Everyone seemed happy that they were going to be returning to pick Jane up, or perhaps Garrus’ elation just gave him a pair of rose colored glasses. Shepard teased him about his ever present smile relentlessly, despite the return of the crease of worry between his own brows.
“Okay, here’s one I don’t think you’ve heard.” Garrus smirked down at Joker as they finally began their approach toward the Citadel. “Why does the Alliance hire pilots with brittle bone disease?” He asked as he raised a brow plate at the pilot before him. They’d been trading humans and turian jokes for a little while to pass the time, each more offensive than the last.
“You’re shitting me. The turian military has one about
me
?” Joker asked incredulously as he twisted in his seat to look up at Garrus where he stood nearby.
“Oh,
absolutely!
” Garrus grinned as he crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one side. “I heard it myself from a private back on Palaven.”
“All right, why does the Alliance hire pilots with brittle bone disease?” Joker raised a brow at him in challenge, and Garrus struggled against the smugness in his voice.
“So their marines can beat someone in hand-to-hand drills.”
Joker snorted, “Daaaamn, you need to tell James that one.” They shared a laugh, both imagining the other man’s indignation. There was a laugh from behind them, and Garrus turned to see Shepard behind him.
“That one was probably my favorite so far,” The Commander chuckled, “Mostly because I know how often Jane wiped the floor with your face, Garrus.” Garrus opened his mouth to retort, but Joker cut in.
“Speaking of your face… What’s the hardest part about treating a turian that took a rocket to one side of his face?” Garrus rolled his eyes good naturedly, fighting the smile as he remembered the last time he’d heard that one.
“Figuring out which side took the rocket. Come on, I know for a fact that Jane’s the one that came up with that one, it’s old news.”
They all laughed and continued to toss banter about for a few minutes, but Shepard seemed to slowly sink back into his own internal musings. Soon, Joker began the docking procedures, contacting the Alliance tower to request clearance.
“Everything okay, Shepard?” Garrus asked quietly, and the other man looked at him before nodding.
“Yeah. I was just thinking about a call I got a little while ago from the salarian councilor, Valern, about Udina. He suspects he’s been moving massive amounts of money around under the table, and it has me worried.” He cut off as he looked toward Joker, his brows drawing down in confusion. “What’s wrong, Joker?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not getting a response from any Alliance operators at the docks.” He tried again, and again got no response. “What the hell’s going on down there? Even if there was a station malfunction, they’d have backups online.” Joker shook his head before glancing back at the both of them and voicing Garrus’ thoughts aloud. “I got a bad feeling here. Checking emergency channels.”
As Joker flicked through the holo controls, Garrus looked at Shepard, whose face was pinched with concern. The Commander caught his eye with a frown. They shared a silent moment of worry before Joker turned in his seat to look back at them.
“Commander, I’ve got Mordin on the line. He says it’s important. Think you’ll want to hear this.” There was an edge to his voice that immediately set them both further on edge, the vestiges of lightheartedness of moments ago vanishing without a trace.
“Put him through.”
“
Shepard, wonderful timing.
” Mordin’s voice came through the speakers, clipped as usual, but with a heightened urgency that was alarming.
“Citadel under attack, Cerberus taken control of docks, troops sweeping station.
” Shepard’s eyes widened and Garrus’ heart leapt into his throat.
“Is Jane okay? Is the hospital safe? Where are you?” Shepard asked hurriedly, and Garrus stepped forward to grip Joker's chair as he peered through the window before them as the Citadel rolled into view.
“
Jane escaped, disappeared as soon as Commandos arrived at hospital. Odd place to target, likely hunting particular individuals. Taken cover on Presidium with Thane, heading to C-Sec headquarters, but unsure of Jane's current location.”
“Why C-Sec headquarters?” Garrus asked sharply, narrowing his eyes in consideration. There were a number of strategic advantages to holding headquarters, but-
“
Cerberus currently holds main C-Sec facilities, problematic. Plan to assist in retaking, backup would be preferable.”
“All right, Joker,” Shepard turned and started out of the cockpit, Garrus hot on his heels, “get us away from the docks and close to C-Sec HQ. We’ll deploy in the shuttle.”
“Aye-aye, Commander.”
“Jane will be fine.” Garrus muttered, suddenly unsure if he was speaking to himself or Shepard. “She’s more than capable of taking care of herself, probably while taking out a battalion of Cerberus troopers in the meanwhile.”
“I know.” Was Shepard’s only response, his pace only picking up as they neared the elevators.
“This answers the question of why the Cerberus bases were running skeleton crews, I suppose.” Garrus growled before ducking out of cover to take a shot. The Cerberus soldier fell back in a spray of dark blood, darker than he was used to seeing from humans. He shuddered in disgust at the implications.
It was hard not to feel an anxious nausea as they fought through the Lot 9 Shuttle Hangar at the C-Sec HQ. He’d worked here for years, it had been nearly his second home. His friends had all worked here, it had been a place of stability and safety.
But now… Now it was a battlefield, chaos erupting around him as he stepped through puddles of blood in a variety of colors.
Garrus wanted to be sick. It was a similar feeling to seeing Reaper forces on Palaven. Similar to knowing that the Collectors had broken into the Normandy and abducted their crew. His old home suddenly felt dirty, defiled. It was surreal to think of this as the same place it had been even a few weeks prior.
He crammed it all down into a box to be set aside for later. Another shot taken, another commando dropped in a bloody heap. He had to focus, he had a purpose.
It was a relief to encounter someone alive who was not wearing Cerberus colors, even if Bailey was bleeding out when they found him. Some hastily applied medigel had the man on his feet again as he helped them break through the lock and into HQ. As they waited, Garrus did what he could to contact Jane, but not for the first time since arriving, he had no luck. Cerberus was jamming damn near every line of communication.
“How bad’s the situation?” He asked as they finally headed through the doors and toward a nearby console. The rest of the ground team trailed behind them, weapons up and ready. “Do you know if the Councilors are alive?”
“It’s impossible to say until I get into the network. I know Councilor Valern had a meeting with the executor today, so it’s possible they’ve been split up.” Bailey limped toward the desk and fell into the chair with a grunt. His attention shifted to the console as he quickly began pulling up displays.
“Why did he have a meeting with the executor?” Shepard asked as he scanned the room carefully. They could hear the far off sounds of gunfire, making it hard to relax.
“Usually it means someone big’s about to be prosecuted. I guess that someone had Cerberus friends.” Bailey mused to himself, but Garrus felt possible pieces to the mystery falling into place.
“Shepard, you mentioned your call with the Councilor regarding Udina…” Garrus paused and shook his head. He had to be getting ahead of himself. “But that’s insane. Does he even have that kind of pull?”
“The person to ask would probably be Councilor Valern himself.” Bailey muttered, but then blinked, his fingers pausing in their typing. “Well hello there… Speak of the devil. There’s a message here from the Councilor here.” He looked up toward the Commander quickly before reading it out. “‘
Be on guard – the likelihood of betrayal from within in is high.’’
Huh. Not a lot to work with, there.”
“If there’s a chance he’s here, then we need to find him. He might have the answers we need. Where do you think he might be?” Shepard asked Bailey, but Garrus jumped in as a thought occurred to him.
“He could still be in the executor’s office. It’s a fairly defensible position.” He stated with a shrug, and Bailey turned to glance at him before nodding his agreement.
“Gottcha.” Shepard called out for his team to follow. Activating his omni-tool, he pulled up the emergency channel again. “You catch all of that, Mordin?”
“
Yes. Thane and I nearing headquarters. Progress slow, Kepral’s Syndrome affecting speed. Will keep you posted.”
As they made their way further into the building, Garrus forced his eyes away from the bullet-pocked walls, the blood spatters, and the vacant eyes of blue clad corpses. Vaguely, he could hear the angry chords thrumming in his subvocals, but he forced himself to focus. These had been his friends, his co-workers, people he’d known, had spent his days with. All dead. It was impossible not to think back to a cold, empty Omega apartment, no one to keep him company but the cold corpses of friends.
So many bodies littered the floors as Shepard’s team fought their way through the building room by room that it soon became hard to ignore. “Entry wounds to the back of the head.” Garrus grit out as he looked down at a bloody mess behind a security desk. “Looks like a surprise, not an execution.” He looked back up at Shepard, who nodded in agreement. “We’ve got hardcore traitors here.” The thought disgusted him further.
“Same as Mars. Cerberus sure likes sleeper agents.” Shepard murmured, his lips twisted, and Ashley tsked angrily behind them.
They made their way up a familiar elevator, one Garrus had used daily for the last few years of his time at C-Sec. He didn’t want to see what his old department looked like, not after what they’d seen so far.
“
Any survivors in there?
” Bailey asked, his tone dull and leaden.
“None yet.” Shepard replied, his voice as gentle as possible given the situation.
“
Damn it. Well, keep looking.”
The elevator opened as they were instantly assaulted with the smell of burned flesh and the flickering of damaged lights. Garrus hurried out and around the corner and he fought down the anxiety building in his chest. Somehow, in his mind he wasn’t just stumbling into his old department, but also a grimey, bloody Omega apartment.
“Ridgefield? Lamont? You alive?” Garrus couldn’t stop himself from calling out. He was met with nothing but echoing silence, the sparking of electrical wires, and the sound of far off alarms. He cursed under his breath. A firm hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned to see Shepard’s steady gaze on him, a comfort as he struggled to reign in his subvocals.
“Hey! You mind
not
alerting the whole station?” James whispered as he glared at him, but Garrus just rolled his eyes.
“If gunfire doesn’t put them on notice,
I
sure won’t.” He snorted as he scanned the room. He recognized faces, but none were the friends he was looking for. He took a breath, reminding himself that was a good thing. He desperately wanted to search for them, cursing himself for letting their friendship slide the past few years. If they managed to get out of this, and Ridgefield and Lamont were okay, he vowed to make a bigger effort to keep in touch.
Shaking his head, Garrus refocused himself. They needed to find the Councilor, and as soon as they did that, they could find Jane. He needed to keep his mind on that. There wasn’t time for anything else.
As they finally reached the top of the stairs leading to the executor’s office, they pressed themselves against the wall as Liara prepared to hit the door’s controls, the others ready and waiting behind her. As soon as it was open, they took stock of the situation, noticing the emptiness of the room and the corpses on the floor.
Quickly scanning the bodies, Garrus realized none of them could be the Councilor. Shepard reported in to Bailey as the others swept the room. Moving toward the window overlooking the landing below, Garrus wondered for a moment if Valern had made it out somehow. Something caught his eye, a shimmer in the air down below. His breath caught.
“Jane?” He gasped, narrowing his eyes as he watched for movement. Shepard ran over to stand beside him.
“You saw Jane? Where?” He asked hurriedly, but Garrus shook his head.
“No, I just thought I saw… There!” He pointed down at another shimmer in the air as it sparked. A tactical cloak fizzled and died, but in its spot stood not the human woman he was expecting, but a robed salarian. “It’s the Councilor!”
“Found him. He looks unharmed.” Shepard stated with a nod to Garrus.
“
Get him somewhere safe
.” Bailey said, relief in his voice, and Shepard nodded to his team.
“Let’s get down there and get him to safety.” They all started for the door, but another flash of movement caught Garrus’ eye, and he turned back toward the window just in time to see a dark form drop down onto the landing below.
“Shepard! There’s someone else down there with him!” Garrus yelled, watching as an armored man stood to loom before the salarian councilor, who began stumbling backwards in fear. Without hesitation, Garrus brought up the butt of his rifle and smashed it into the window. The glass shattered outwards, sparkling in the light of Shepard’s biotics as the Commander leapt through the window a moment later.
Garrus followed, vaulting over the ledge and down onto the landing below. He hit the ground hard, his hardsuit absorbing some of the shock, his knees struggling not to buckle under the rest.
“Don’t even
think
about it.” Shepard called out as he leveled his weapon on the partially masked human across the room. Garrus brought his own weapon up as he stood, and nearby he could hear the running feet of the others coming down the stairs.
“Shepard. He’s going to kill us all.” Councilor Valern rasped harshly, his voice urgent and fearful as he brought his hands up. The stranger before him raised a hand to level on the salarian, his palm glowing with a dangerous light. On his chest stood the Cerberus logo.
“That remains to be seen.” Shepard replied curtly as he took a measured, careful step forward. He and the attacker began to slowly circle one another, the Councilor turning on the spot to keep the would-be assassin in his line of sight.
“I mean
Udina
.” Valern hissed in a whisper just loud enough to reach them. “He’s staging a coup. He’s got the other councilors now, to hand over to Cerberus.” A stab of fear jolted Garrus as he processed the words, and he could see Shepard stiffen slightly before taking another step forward. Behind him, the entirety of his team shifted forward as well, their weapons drawn and ready.
“You can’t take all of us, pal. It’s over.” Shepard stated firmly, followed by murmured agreement from the team.
A slow smile spread across the face of the Cerberus agent, made all the more menacing by their inability to see his eyes behind his mask.
“No,” He growled in a low voice, “now it’s
fun
.” The energy in his palm glowed brighter, and the Councilor winced as he brought his arm up to protect his face from the impending attack.
A click echoed through the room, a pistol’s safety flicking off.
“Think again, asshole.” came a new voice from behind the agent, causing him to turn. Garrus blinked and questions raced in his mind as he recognized the familiar, smirking face and the Spectre symbol emblazoned upon her shoulder.
|
“S-shit! Don’t – don’t stop.”
Peter gripped hard upon the bedposts. He felt his back arch almost to breaking point; the sheets clung to his back, slick with sweat and some candle wax, and his mouth felt impossibly dry as he struggled to breathe. There were bruises around his neck, enough to require scarves and polo necks for a week or more, while the love-bites and scratches over his thighs would fortunately be hidden without a change of attire. Wade continued to bob below.
It was so deeply erotic to watch, even if Peter’s eyes were half-lidded. He loved how Wade’s rough and callused hands massaged along his stomach and upper legs, determined to use only his mouth where it counted, and he soon felt his thighs instinctively close around his lover’s head, feet pressed against Wade’s shoulder-blades. Those brown eyes looked up at him. They were blown out and full of a sense of teasing, as Wade watched every throe of ecstasy that overtook Peter, until only incoherent babbling came forth from his lips.
“K-keep – keep going . . . just – just there . . .”
He felt light-headed. The pleasure was starting to build and build to a point, enough that he could focus on nothing else and it felt impossible to stop, and – as Peter heard an alarm clock chime down the hall – he realised he would be late for class. There was a click of noise, as his wedding ring caught against the metal bedpost, where it left a long scratch down the otherwise perfect façade, and Wade – knowing just what to do to improve the situation – dipped his tongue into the slit of Peter’s erection. It was too much to bear.
Peter threw his forearm over his mouth.
It barely stifled the scream. He bit hard into his skin, desperate to muffle the increasingly paced and ever-louder noises, as Wade sucked with a great deal of expertise, until Peter felt everything beneath his waist begin to throb painfully and grow impossibly hot. The climax was coming closer. Wade would turn his head on each upward movement, twisting and sometimes blowing cool air as he briefly pulled away, before going back down.
Wade’s nose would press against unkempt pubic hair, something he would complain about later until Peter agreed to let Wade shave it away, and he likely smelled the heavy scent of sex and arousal all around them. Peter could barely breathe. He let his left hand clench the post, while his right shot down and took Wade by the back of the head and held him down, and – for a moment – he felt Wade gag and choke, just enough to add to the sensations and tighten around the head of his length. Wade took the chance to distract Peter.
A finger slid into his stretched and lubricated channel.
Peter bit down harder, as he looked down to see Wade had pulled away. He was catching his breath and dribbles of saliva and pre-come had fallen down his chin, while Peter’s cut length stood achingly hard in the air. Wade muttered something about seeing come run out of Peter’s hole, before he leaned down to lick the mess away, and Peter felt himself cry out so hard that even his arm couldn’t muffle the sound. His throat felt sore and dry.
‘Is everything okay in there?’
The voice outside sounded vaguely familiar. It was hard to decipher, especially when Wade took that moment to insert his tongue as deep as it would go, and – alongside the finger, which crooked against his prostate – it soon made him forget the world at large. Peter let out a scream. He felt his length twitch, as pleasure ripped through him, and he was moments away from coming from the sensations alone. Wade lifted his head away; he inserted a second finger, scissoring and prodding continuously, as he went back to kissing Peter’s member. They were soft pecks at first, until he enveloped it whole.
Peter could vaguely recall the door-handle jiggling, as the lock was tested, before a disembodied voice gave a warning the door was being unlocked, and soon there was a burst of light that hit his retinas painfully in the dark room. He failed to notice anything else, however, as Wade’s finger pressed against him at the same time his tongue caught him, and – with a painful scream – Peter let loose an orgasm unlike any he had ever experienced.
He felt his whole body tense. His toes coiled and legs seized up painfully, while his throat caught some saliva and fell silent with a lack of breath, so that he began to choke and struggled to breathe, and – through it all – he nearly fell unconscious. The pleasure was astounding. Wade swallowed what felt like heaps upon heaps of come, which should have been impossible after the night they shared together, and yet there it came and there it was for Wade to take. Peter collapsed back on the sheets and let his body loll lifelessly.
“That – that was fantastic,” he whispered.
‘Oh, I bet it was,’ replied a voice.
Peter looked up to see Tony.
He let out a new scream, but – this time – in horror. The sheets were soaked with sweat and scrunched up from so many sexual movements, and it took him longer than he liked to bring them up to his neck and hide his body from sight. Wade appeared not to care about being caught nude; he simply laughed like a madman, as he wiped a trail of come from his chin and then licked it from his hand, and moved to throw himself down next to Peter. He lay on top of the sheets, nude and flushed, as Peter sat hunched next to him with sheets pulled over him.
“W-what – what – what are -?”
“I heard noises. Thought you were hurt.” Tony was red in the face. “You said the kids wanted to come over, see good o’ Grandpa Tony, but you didn’t say you’d be bringing over the bane of my existence in the process. Still . . . glad to see he’s good for something.”
“I’m good for a lot of things, Stark,” teased Wade. “Want to find out?”
“Bite my shiny metal ass, Wilson.”
“Maybe later, darling.”
The look that Tony shot Wade was venomous. He was dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, as if he had just gotten out of his morning shower or overslept past the alarm, and so Peter half-expected the father he remembered from his youth. Tony was always the one to slip him money for lunch and sneaking the packed lunches into the rubbish, or making jokes as he let the cartoons play and the pancakes burn, but today -? Well, he looked pissed.
Peter shot Wade a look, but it was one that Wade ignored. It was hard to believe that – even now, in his thirties – he could still feel like a little boy before his father, especially when he had children of his own and a husband of seven years, but Tony had that kind of personality that could overwhelm even the strongest of people. Wade winked over at Tony, before he blew a kiss and began to laugh again, and all Peter could focus upon was how Tony looked ready to explode, with his hands clenched into tight fists. It was humiliating.
“Just be glad it wasn’t Steve that caught you,” snapped Tony.
“We’re married and the door was locked,” muttered Peter. “I don’t think how we decided to spend the night is the issue here, so . . . anyway . . . are the kids up yet? I’m already going to be late for school as it stands, so I don’t have time to get them up.”
“Well, there you’re in luck. Steve is serving them breakfast.”
“G-great, we’ll be out in a minute then.”
Tony gave them a stern look; his eyes lingered with disgust on Wade, before he glanced briefly to Peter and suddenly blushed all the more, and Peter – realising what they had been caught doing – simply groaned and buried his head against his knees. He barely heard Tony’s muttered complaints and excuses, as he hurriedly left the room and closed the door behind him with a loud slam. The noise was enough to break Wade. He burst into hysterical laughter, complete with tears, while Peter remained mortified at having been caught.
He picked up a pillow and struck Wade hard.
The older man simply quietened his laughter into a chuckle, as he climbed out of bed and found the baby-wipes out of the diaper bag. Peter watched as Wade wiped himself down, before complaining that they forgot to hand the bag over to Steve the night before, and Peter – as he climbed out of bed and made his way into the en suite – explained Steve always made sure there were plenty of diapers and spare clothes around for their son.
“If he’s such a good babysitter, why are we here?” Wade asked.
Peter wrung out a flannel over the sink, as he quickly gave himself a whore’s bath. There wasn’t time for a shower, at least not if he wanted to make it to school before second period, and he would also need to drop the kids off at their school first. Wade was due to spend the day with Ellie, so he wouldn’t be much help, and Peter didn’t want to rely too much on Steve and Tony for help. The last thing he needed was a lecture on responsibility, even if it was pretty irresponsible to forget sleep and forget to set an alarm.
“Someone couldn’t make it to the elevator,” said Peter.
“Ah, yeah, I forgot about that!” Wade gave a chuckle and quickly dressed. “I remember a little spidey with what felt like eight legs around my waist. Still hard to believe you can be that flexible! Got to love the way you stick to walls, too, that upside-down kiss thing is way better when it’s an upside-down blow –”
“A-anyway,” muttered Peter. “Don’t forget May has that parent-teacher conference tonight, so anything you do with the Avengers has to finish by seven. I mean it! Pops and Steve have the kids until Monday, but you promised Ellie a sleepover tomorrow. Don’t forget.”
“Fine, fine! In that case, you got to pick up Aunt May’s cake Sunday. You said it was her birthday, right? I got the best present in the world for her, plus I got to set the party up and drop Ellie back off at Preston’s, so it’s only fair you run some chores. Speaking of chores, do you remember what Al said gets out blood? I tried lemonade and bleach, but all that did was make a big smelly white patch on my sweatshirt. I think I messed up.”
Peter turned to look at his husband. Wade was now fully dressed; the ripped jeans were a tad too big for him, while the hooded top now held a huge white splotch upon the chest, and yet he oddly pulled it off and still looked quite handsome. It was enough to be envious, as Peter scrambled to pull on his suit and still somehow managed to look like he had just rolled out of bed, and he may just have sulked in his twenties or teens. He ran a hand though his hair and moved over to Wade to place a kiss on his cheek. Wade blushed.
“I’ll fix it up later, okay?”
“Really?” Wade smiled warmly. “I owe you, sweetums!”
“Why not start by making those chocolate-chip pancakes?” Peter raced over to the door, as he fished around for his briefcase. “I love Steve to bits, but I don’t think the kids are going to go for fruit salads and fat-free muffins somehow. Pretty please?”
“With a cherry on top? There’s only one cherry I’m –”
Wade gave a winded noise of pain, as Peter elbowed him hard in his side. He heard a muttered ‘I deserved that’, while he ran out of the door and headed straight to the lounge, and – as he ran – he lamented how greasy his hair felt and how gross his mouth tasted. It would be easy enough to avoid being in breathing distance to anyone, but he wouldn’t be able to hide his hair or even the bruises on his neck, at least not in the shirt from the night before.
The lounge was surprisingly empty for the time of morning. Steve was sat on the floor with a gurgling and playful Ben; the small boy was now able to sit up, but content to simply smack his hands upon the floor in time to some song sang by Steve. May looked like she was having fun in the kitchen, as Tony made the ten-year-old cereal in a manner that put to shame any mess the children could have made for themselves, and Peter half-anticipated a huge lecture when Steve eventually saw the mess for himself. The children were happy, however.
Peter walked into the lounge and stood beside his son, who – seeing him for the first time that morning – began to babble incoherently with beautiful noises, and his little hands began to grab upwards in motion for Peter. There was no denying him. Peter reached down and picked his young son up into his arms; he buried his head against Ben and breathed deep the baby smell that seemed attached to all infants, and felt grateful for those small moments.
“Has he been any trouble?” Peter asked.
Ben – as if in response – gave a loud and shrill sound, almost like surprise, and began to bang his hand softly upon Peter’s cheek. He only laughed when Peter gave him a stern look, before he reached back over to Steve and was soon taken by his grandfather instead, and then began to fall softly asleep against Steve’s breast. It was always so nice to see them together, even if they seemed such wildly different personalities, because they shared a bond that was unlike any other. Ben must have sensed Steve’s good nature, as he always relaxed around him.
“He’s perfect as always,” said Steve. “Just like you were.”
“Ha!” Tony shouted across the room. “I’ll alert Webster’s that we’re redefining ‘perfect’ to mean ‘an absolute terror’! Seriously, I might not be able to prove it was you that stole my new tech that week, but I will say it’s suspicious someone scraped an A on his science test that week, seeing as he spent most of that time necking Gwen.”
“P-Pops! Not in front of the kids! They’re impressionable.”
“Who’s impressionable?” Wade asked.
Wade reappeared in the lounge; he gave a loud yawn and stretched with apparent sleepiness, and – at the sound of his voice – May ran straight from the breakfast table and dove directly at him, until she was whisked around in her father’s arms with a smile. The older man laughed and patted her on the head, as he reeled off a list of all the things she’d need for school that day, and – true to form – she revealed she had everything she needed. Wade gave her a nudge on her chin with a closed fist and whispered congratulations.
“It’s strange, but I honestly can’t picture life any better than this,” whispered Peter.
“Maybe one where you aren’t coming to blows with villains,” said Steve.
“Hey,” chirped Wade, “there’s only one person he comes to blow!”
Peter shot his husband a dark look of despair.
“Kidding! Kidding!”
|
•°⁴⁵°•
Selfish
─✵───────
Taehyung woke up to a pair of lips against his cheek.
"Hmm?" Taehyung mumbled sleepily, surroundings slowly coming into focus as the soft press against his cheeks that gently pulled him away from his dream. He blinked a couple of times, no longer feeling the press against his cheek. He looked to his left, only to see a smiling Jeongguk looking at him, eyes shaped like crescents from the big smile that stretched his lips upwards.
"Hi" Taehyung mumbled, heart fluttering as he took in his boyfriend's physique. He was shirtless, the blanket that covered them both doing an awful job at covering the defined muscles of his torso. His hair was a crow's nest, curls standing in all directions but Taehyung thought it was adorable. He looked gorgeous, even when he had just woken up.
Jeongguk had come over the previous night and spent the night with Taehyung. Taehyung was more than glad to share his bed with Jeongguk but when he asked why, the older man had just said that he didn't want to be at his home at that moment. Jeongguk had looked stressed out and it made Taehyung close his mouth, not wanting to distress the older man further by asking more questions.
After a quick shower and climbing into a pair of sweats belonging to Taehyung, Jeongguk had fallen asleep moments after his back hit the soft, cheap mattress of Taehyung's room. And Taehyung could only coo at the sight of Jeongguk sleeping like a baby, a pout adorning his cherry lips and soft snores escaping his nose. Taehyung too had fallen asleep instantly, grateful that Taehyung was able to convince Mrs. Hooper to let Jeongguk stay.
"Hi" Jeongguk mumbled now, grinning. "Good morning"
"Good morning," Taehyung said, yawning. He shifted closer to Jeongguk and buried his head in his chest, feeling the need to go back to sleep.
"Tae it's almost midday," Jeongguk said, wrapping his arm around Taehyung's torso. "Wake up"
"No" Taehyung mumbled.
Jeongguk chuckled. "Baby, wake up"
"No! it's a Saturday" Taehyung felt himself dozing off again.
Before he could fall asleep again, Jeongguk's hand on his back traveled downwards, giving a firm squeeze on his ass.
Taehyung jolted awake. "Hey! That's a violation of my rights!"
"Your sleeping rights?"
"Yes!"
Jeongguk chuckled, giving another squeeze. Taehyung whined, the need to fall back asleep now long gone.
"Baby" Jeongguk whispered.
"Yes?" Taehyung whispered back. Jeongguk's face was inches away from him.
Jeongguk placed his palm over Taehyung's cheek and looked at him with eyes. Taehyung's heart fluttered at the sight. He couldn't help the smile that stretched his lips upwards at the sight of Jeongguk.
Jeongguk smiled back, his thumb continuously caressing Taehyung's cheek. Jeongguk's palm felt comfortable and warm, making Taehyung feel fortunate to feel Jeongguk's presence so early in the morning.
"I want to wake up to you my whole life" Jeongguk whispered.
"Me too" Taehyung whispered.
Jeongguk grinned. They stayed like that for a few more minutes, basking in each other's warmth and listening to the rhythmic beating of their hearts.
"By the way, I was wondering something..."Taehyung whispered.
"Yeah?"
"Am I better than your wife?"
Jeongguk furrowed his eyebrows. "Of course! In every way possible!"
"Tell me how"
"I don't want to compare because you guys are nothing like each other but you're prettier than her, you're more passionate, smarter, more caring and kind, does a much better job at taking care of me...um...what else..."Jeongguk thought for a moment as Taehyung stared at him with sparkling eyes. "You're so much more perfect than her"
"Äre we going to factually ignore that I give better blowjobs than your wife?"
Jeongguk grinned. "Yeah, that too. I almost forgot. You're a million times better than her in bed. My hot, sexy, horny boyfriend"
Taehyung giggled loudly.
Jeongguk's smile widened, his eyes narrowing into crescents and crinkling at the ends adorably. And Taehyung cooed at the sight, stomach fluttering with butterflies yet again.
But it didn't last long. Jeongguk's face darkened. His smile faltered and his eyes were no longer twinkling with happiness. His eyebrows furrowed together as if something troublesome crossed his mind. It looked as if a rainy cloud had covered the sun.
It made Taehyung's heart drop.
Jeongguk tore his gaze away from Taehyung's and looked at the whitewashed ceiling above them, lips letting out a deep and stressed sigh. It took him a few moments to talk again.
"I'm so fucking tired"
"Jeongguk" Taehyung's voice was thick with worry. He could only imagine what Jeongguk was going through.
"I want to get drunk. Pass out or something Just...not think about it" Jeongguk whispered.
"It's going to be alright," Taehyung whispered as he rubbed Jeongguk's shoulder. "Don't think about it for now. Don't overthink"
"I want to get this over with but everything feels like it's going sideways. I'm so stressed out, Tae"
"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"
"I don't want you to get involved, baby. This is my shit-"
"You can use me"
"What?" Jeongguk's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
"I mean you can use me to relieve your stress. It's the only thing I can do"
"But I don't want to use you. You're the love of my life"
Taehyung sighed. "Not like that. We're supposed to take care of each other. I can relieve your stress"
"Yeah but..." Jeongguk looked at Taehyung. "You know I love you, right?"
"I do" Taehyung said and placed a kiss on Jeongguk's forehead. "I'm sorry about the things I said yesterday. I was being so childish and immature. I didn't mean any of it. It's your child. And I don't have a say in that at all. I'm sorry. I came home and thought about it. And I wasn't thinking at all. I wasn't being fair. I just don't want you to leave me, that's all. I was being so immature-"
"Tae. Baby" Jeongguk whispered, cupping his face. "It's alright. You weren't wrong. You're just twenty. You're allowed to be childish and immature. You're still so young. You were just saying how you really felt and that's alright. After all you've been through, it's fair on your side to think that"
"Gguk-"
"But it hurts me that you think I would leave you. When I'm trying everything I can to not let you go. Because I need you"
"I know. I'm sorry"
"Don't be, baby. I'm not mad at you. I'm the one who's acting immature most of the time. Not you. I'm the adult here. I should have been able to be rational. But when I'm with you...you make me want to be reckless, Tae. You make me want to give my all to you and be happy. You make me want to do what truly makes me happy. You make me feel so young"
"You
are
young" Taehyung whispered, fingers caressing Jeongguk's jaw. "And you deserve to be happy"
"You make me want to experience what I've missed and when I'm with you I feel like this is what I've been missing. This is what it's like to be alive"
"Oh Jeongguk" Taehyung was tearing up. "I love you so much"
"I love you too, baby," Jeongguk said, planting a kiss atop Taehyung's plump lips.
They stayed like that for a few silent minutes, basking in each other's warmth as morning light soaked them.
"Is the grandma home?" Jeongguk asked after a while, as he pushed Taehyung's body tighter against himself.
"She goes to church every Saturday morning so she won't be back for a while" Taehyung whispered, staring into Jeongguk's doe eyes.
"Okay," Jeongguk said, a small smirk stretching his lips upwards.
Taehyung smiled back. "What?"
"Nothing" Jeongguk's smirk grew. "We're alone it seems"
"Yeah"
"And I'm a little stressed"
Taehyung giggled. "Yeah?"
Jeongguk grinned and Taehyung bit his lip, staring at Jeongguk's lips.
"Yeah" Jeongguk breathed and ground his hips onto Taehyung.
"Yeah, I think you're really stressed" Taehyung moaned.
Twenty minutes later, the two men lay beside each other, hearts racing in unison and proof of the unholy acts they've indulged themselves in splattered all over their chests. Jeongguk was grinning like a fool and Taehyung was trying to get down from the bliss that made him feel like he was on cloud nine.
"Morning sex is the best thing ever," Taehyung said breathlessly.
"I know right?" Jeongguk said, grinning.
"I love it when you break my back like a glowstick, daddy"
"Taehyung what the fuck?" Jeongguk asked, grinning. "You're weird. Let me clean you up"
Taehyung grinned, feeling himself come down from his high. He watched as Jeongguk grabbed some tissues and splattered water all over them before starting to clean both of them. Taehyung silently watched the older man clean him up, dark hair that had definitely grown a couple of inches during the summer falling into his eyes making him look enchantingly handsome. His biceps and triceps flexed under his skin as he moved his hands and Taehyung had to close his eyes to avoid himself from getting turned on again.
Jeongguk stood up, disposed of the wet tissues on the bin by Taehyung's small desk, and sat on the bed next to Taehyung, who lay on his back, naked. He helped Taehyung into his boxers before he dressed himself up too so they were both in their underwear now. Jeongguk smiled at Taehyung and pressed a kiss to his forehead, making Taehyung close his eyes again.
Jeongguk drew away and looked at Taehyung, his gaze calculating. As if he was trying to figure something out that was written on Taehyung's face.
"You look different"
Taehyung raised his eyebrows, confused. "Different how?"
"I don't know," Jeongguk said. "You look tired"
"Maybe because I am?"
"You are? Because of the sex? But you don't usually get tired even when you ride me and today you were under me-"
"Stop you're trying to turn me on again"
"I'm not!" Jeongguk pouted. "But Tae, I'm serious. What's wrong?"
Taehyung sighed and sat up, facing Jeongguk. "I'm just a little worried about you, Gguk. Worried about us. I can't do anything to help you and I don't know what's going on with you. I'm completely in the dark on this matter even though you're my boyfriend..."
"Tae..." Jeongguk whispered, "I don't want to drag you into this mess. You staying by my side is enough strength for me, baby. You don't have to worry. I'm trying to come up with a solution that wouldn't hurt any of us"
"What do you mean hurt us? Why would a divorce hurt anyone?"
Jeongguk sighed. "I spoke with Jieun yesterday. According to her, all our truths could be exposed. Including our affair. And about Aria...I mean we can do something about Aria, even if I really don't want her to find out but...about you..."
"What about me? Would something bad happen to us if they find out?"
"Well, you wouldn't get expelled, obviously. But people would get to know about us. It's a possibility at least. If word gets out that you were in a relationship with a professor of yours, it could look bad on you. And your future. It’s going to give you a bad reputation. It never crossed my mind about how it could affect you, Tae. I was only focused on getting a divorce and never stopped to think about how it could affect the people around me. Also, I could probably lose my job. But it's just a possibility!" Jeongguk said in a small voice.
Taehyung stared at Jeongguk for a few seconds with a horrified expression, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.
“So Jieun told you all of this?” Taehyung finally asked.
“Yeah”
“Are we really going to trust her? After all she’s done to you? Seriously?” Taehyung’s voice was loud with disbelief.
“I’m not trusting her but she’s a lawyer. And I feel like what she’s telling is true. I mean, think about it, It’s not impossible” Jeongguk tried to explain. But Taehyung wasn’t taking it. "I need to speak to my lawyer and I have an appointment with him at four in the afternoon today. I already set the time up on my way here yesterday. And I can confirm what would happen after speaking with him"
"You mean...if it gets revealed, it could have a negative impact on my future?" Taehyung said in a small voice. The corners of his lips were inched downwards with worry.
"Yeah well..." Jeongguk said. "But we can figure something out, I'm sure. Anyways, that's why I didn't want you to get involved. I don't want to do you any harm"
Taehyung nodded. "Okay"
"But...I was wondering...." Jeongguk said in a small voice.
"Hmm?" Taehyung looked at him.
"I don't want this thing to destroy our lives. But if there's a high chance that what Jieun said is true, would you be okay if I don't...like...you know...?"
"What?"
Jeongguk shrugged. "If I don't get a divorce?"
Taehyung's eyes widened in horror. "What? Jeongguk what the fuck?"
"Tae-"
"You don't want to divorce her?"
"Were you listening to me? I said if things are going to do us more harm than good, would you be okay with me not divorcing her but still continuing this relationship with you? You and I can even live together-"
Taehyung scoffed.
Jeongguk's eyes widened, hurt flashing across his face in an instant.
"No," Taehyung said. "It's not okay, Jeongguk. We've been through enough shit already.
I've
been through enough shit because of you. All I want is a good relationship with you. A normal one where we take care of each other and focus on each other. A normal fucking relationship where you're mine"
"Tae-"
"I'm okay with you split parenting or some shit. I don't fucking care as long as you're mine. I came to terms with that. But now you don't even want to divorce her? Like, get out of the marriage?"
"Taehyung" Jeongguk growled, making Taehyung shut up instantly. "You're not listening to me. We're both adults so let's talk about this rationally. I'm telling you that I care about you and I don't want your future getting screwed up because of my shit. I don't want you to get dragged into my mess. Okay? So if it seems like you will be dragged into this, I was just wondering if you would be okay with me not divorcing-"
"No, I'm not okay with that"
Jeongguk sighed. "Okay. I'll try my best to not get you into this"
Taehyung shook his head. “I don’t want anyone in Beverly knowing about us, Jeongguk. I’m…I can’t imagine what it would be like if the other students got to know that I was in a relationship with the professor of one of the hardest subjects of the year. They’d think I got extra credits for sleeping with you! I…and it would affect my future..oh god…”
“Baby, no. I’m going to do my best to not get you involved in this, okay?”
“Fine,” Taehyung said. “But how did that thought of not getting a divorce even cross your mind?”
“Well, it’s because I don’t want any harm coming to you. And Jieun said all these things to me yesterday. She said she would reveal about our relationship in court so I got scared. She told me to stay at least until Aria goes to college and that’s why I was thinking about staying a little more”
Taehyung’s mouth dropped open. “For two more years?! And you were thinking about it? You don’t want to get a divorce because of that?”
“I’m just saying. Because like there is Aria in the equation too, Tae. And she’s still my daughter…I understand why Jieun wants me to stay in the marriage…because Aria needs me and-”
“So you’re thinking about not divorcing Jieun because of Aria?”
“Well, kind of because-”
“Oh fuck you” Taehyung let out a humorless chuckle. “You and your Aria. There we go. You prioritizing your family over me again. Just like before”
“Tae!” Jeonnguk said. “That’s not true. It’s not only because of her! She said that if I stayed for two more years, she would let me go! She wants me to stay for Aria”
“And you do too”
“No, I don't care about staying. I will still be Aria’s dad after the divorce. I’m not going to abandon her! I wanted to find a way around this matter so you wouldn’t get caught up in this because if Jieun agrees to get a divorce after two years, then she wouldn’t reveal about you”
Taehyung let out a scoff. “Just break up with me, then. Everything will be fine. Then you can get a divorce without trouble because we aren’t together and it won’t affect me anyway. Or you can just break it off permanently. Forget me and go live with Aria and Jieun just like before. Because right now, that’s what you’re trying to do”
“Tae, why can't you understand me? It’s not like I want to stay in the marriage either”
“Then why are you thinking about it? Forget about what effect it would have on me. You’re trying to stay mainly because of Aria”
“She is a reason but I was thinking more about what Jieun said the other day about you”
“If there’s a way to not get me involved in this, you should be looking for that. Not think about abandoning the whole divorce! And it just sounds to me like you’re trying to find reasons to stay in the marriage and I don’t think you’re doing that because of me, Jeongguk. Because what I want for you is to get out of that damned marriage and live your life the way you want”
“I told you I’m going to speak to my lawyer and ask him what I can do. But I can’t just forget about Aria’s existence just like that!”
“I didn’t ask you to! You can still be her father and do all the fatherly shit after the divorce too! I don’t give a shit about her but I didn’t tell you to forget about her! I wish you did but I know you can’t! And I’ve made peace with that. All I asked for you is to get that divorce so we can date for real. And I really thought after everything we've been through you were willing to make this relationship happen"
"Taehyung...we're literally dating"
"This is adultery. You're practicing adultery because you're still married to that bitch who ruined your whole fucking life. And you still let her get into your head. Do you love her or something?"
"Taehyung please"
"No. Listen to me. You're still married, in case you forgot. I'm not formally your boyfriend until you get that divorce and become a free man. And then we can move in together and start an actual relationship. Because let's face it, Jeongguk. I'm just a fling right now"
"Taehyung, no"
"And you're not mine until you get that divorce"
"What do you mean? Taehyung you're mine and-"
"I may be yours but you're not mine, Gguk," Taehyung said. His heart felt like it was about to explode. Tears brimmed his eyes.
"Since the moment we met, I've always been yours. I've been here waiting for you to come back to me. I've always been here waiting for you. I've been here for you to come back to. But you were never there, Gguk. You still aren't. And all this time, I was yours and you were never mine. You were hers and Aria's. Not mine. Never mine. Still aren't. You might be, after the divorce. But now, even that isn't a thing I could look up to?"
"Tae..." Jeongguk was speechless.
"Us? We aren't stable, Jeongguk. I've waited for a long time for it to be stable. And my only hope and only solution out of this mess is your divorce. Because at the end of the day, I'm madly and foolishly in love with you and I want this to work between us"
"Tae" Jeongguk sobbed. He took hold of both Taehyung's hands. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for saying that. I'm so sorry. I will never even think that ever again. I will do everything to divorce her. Even if it ruins my life, as long as you're there with me in the end, I'll be fine"
Taehyung sniffled. "It shouldn’t ruin you, Ggukkie. But staying in that marriage would"
"Yeah, you’re right. I'm sorry for hurting you so much"
Taehyung stayed silent as Jeongguk's arms wrapped around him, drawing him closer into a hug.
When Jeongguk drew away, Taehyung gave him a tight-lipped smile and got up from bed. He started putting on his clothes as Jeongguk watched. He walked over to his nightstand, where his phone lay connected to the charger. He took it in his hand and started looking through his notifications.
Upon seeing an unusual email, he opened it.
What he saw almost made him drop the phone.
Taehyung screamed.
Jeongguk sat up and jumped over to Taehyung, panicked. "What?"
Taehyung looked at Jeongguk with his whole expression horrified. Jeongguk stared at him, looking concerned until-
Taehyung started jumping on the balls of his feet, a grin forming on his lips.
"I've been selected for the New York Art Academy!"
"Mom?"
Jieun heard her daughter's voice outside the window of the passenger seat of her car, making her snap out of her trial of thoughts that had made her space out. Jieun quickly wiped the tear stains on her face and unlocked the doors, letting Aria climb into the passenger seat.
"Why did you come to pick me up?" Aria asked as she closed the door.
Jieun cleared her throat. "I got the message that the swimming practices aren't being held today. I came to drive you home"
"I could've gone with my friends" Aria whined. "I'm old enough to go on my own!"
"I know that" Jieun snapped. "I have some time off today so why travel alone when you can go with me?"
"But it's usually dad who comes to pick me up? Where is he?"
"Busy" Jieun said. She didn't know where he was. She hadn't seen him in the morning. She hadn't seen after the previous night. She didn't look for him either, even though it felt strange to not wake up next to him or see him in the morning making her coffee.
She knew she would have to get used to that soon.
"With Taehyung?" Aria asked.
Jieun sighed and started the engine. She heard Aria let out a sigh next to her as Jieun pulled up into the driveway.
"You can stay at home alone until I come back, right? I'll buy you some lunch and I'll be home by dinner"
"Yeah," Aria said. "But dad would be home, right? He would come back soon so I wouldn't be alone. You don't have to worry"
Jieun felt like tearing up again. But she gulped down the need to cry and spoke. Her voice came out shakier than she intended to. "I'm not sure"
"What do you mean? Where is he?"
"I don't know, okay? Can you call him and ask where he is?"
"Mom!" Aria said.
Jieun let out a sigh.
"God, what's happening with you guys?" Aria said, looking stressed out.
"Hey," Jieun said, placing her hand on Aria's thigh. "Don't get stressed out, okay? Just focus on yourself. Your dad and I will figure out what's going to happen"
A silence followed Jieun's statement.
And then a sniffle.
"Please don't get divorced" Aria was sobbing.
"Baby" Jieun said. Her heart ached upon seeing her daughter crying.
"Please" Aria sobbed.
"I don't want to either. But your father wants me to sign the divorce papers...we talked yesterday but he's so persistent on getting a divorce" Jieun said softly.
"Why can't he just stay for me? Will he move out if you guys get divorced? Will he leave us?"
Jieun let out a sigh. The pain in her chest only got bigger by the minute upon hearing Aria sound so broken.
"I don't know" Jieun whispered. "But even if he does move out, I'm sure you can still meet up with him, Aria"
"B-But he's going to leave me"
Jieun pulled up in front of a restaurant. "I'm trying to make him stay"
"He's being selfish" Aria whispered. "He only cares about Taehyung"
"He cares about you too. You're his daughter. He loves you. You're his little girl no matter what"
"I can't believe he loves Taehyung. It's ridiculous. Taehyung is a piece of shit. He used all of us. He's a whore"
"Aria!" Jieun scolded. "Don't say that!"
"Are you protecting him? Mom, what the fuck?"
"Language," Jieun said. "I'm not. But he doesn't deserve to be called a whore"
"He
is
a whore. Did you know that he used to have sex with people for money before he met dad?"
"What?!" Jieun was aghast.
"See? Mom, you don't know anything about him. He is a whore. Bet he wanted money after sleeping with dad"
"I don't think that's true, Aria. He..." Jieun was bewildered. "He was so nice"
"Well he fucked dad"
"Aria" Jieun warned. "Your dad is an adult. He was having an affair behind my back and it's me and your dad's business. You wouldn't get it. But I understand why he did what he did"
"Are you serious?" Aria said, looking angry. "After all he's done you're still protecting him?"
"What can I do? I still love him" Jieun said, tears starting to make their way down her cheeks. "I had you when I was sixteen and he was the one who was always there for me. He's not a bad person. Anyone else would never have taken responsibility. Your dad looked after me. He was forced to become mature after I had the baby. He was forced to grow up and become an adult at your age. I think we should all cut him some slack"
Aria was silent for a while. "So did you"
Jieun stared ahead of her as tears trailed down her cheeks.
"We should cut you some slack too"
"I want him to stay for you. I tried all I could last night to convince myself. I felt like shit afterwards. But I had no choice. I don't want him to leave us"
"Mom..."
"But I've used up all my cards, Aria. There's nothing I can do anymore. I told him about the possibilities if a divorce happens and how it would affect all our futures. But if he still wants a divorce, there's nothing I can do. I'll sign the papers and divorce him"
Aria sighed. "Does he love Taehyung more than me? More than the new baby?"
A loud sob escaped Jieun. She quickly covered her mouth and wept.
"Mom" Aria said, voice thick with sadness. "Mom don't cry"
Jieun shook her head. "I'm okay," She said groggily.
"No you're not" Aria placed her hand on Jieun's shoulder, squeezing it.
"I'm sure we can find a way to live without him," Jieun said in a small voice. "I mean I will find a way. He's not exactly leaving you"
"This isn't fair"
"I'm sure he thinks differently"
Aria wiped Jieun's tears, pout decorating her lips as she watched her mother. Jieun looked at her and forced a smile.
Jieun knew what she did the previous night was too much. But she couldn't control her emotions. Selfishly, she couldn't entertain the thought of letting Jeongguk go. And Jeongguk was so difficult. It pained her to see him hating her so much.
She hadn't slept that night. All she could think of was how much she regretted making Jeongguk believe he was the father. Maybe if she had raised Aria alone, none of this would've happened. She would not be crying herself to sleep for weeks and crying until there were no tears left. She wouldn't be this stressed out, thinking about her children's future.
She had this coming. But years and years of happy marriage had made her forget that her actions could have consequences and that it would backlash on her one day. That day had come and it hurt more than she thought it would because she was too much in love with Jeongguk.
Maybe if she hadn't walked to Jeongguk and told him that she was pregnant with his baby all those years ago, both of them would have been living happy lives by now. Separately.
"I did something really bad to your father"
"What?" Aria was confused.
"Something happened long ago and it left a negative effect on your father's life. And I'm responsible for that. So I want you to know that if we get divorced, I caused it and not your dad because he deserves to be happy too"
"What did you do?"
Jieun stayed silent for a while. And then, "It doesn't matter. It's a long time ago. But I believe that it excuses his actions. It excuses him cheating and wanting to divorce me"
"I don't think it was that bad"
"It was. Believe me. Not everyone is black or white, baby. Everyone has a certain amount of evil in them. I and your dad did awful things to each other, okay? I did something bad and he cheated on me. Both are bad, okay? But you don't have to think about it because it's between us. Bottom line is, don't hate your dad"
"I hate him"
"Stop being a brat. Your father sacrificed his whole youth to raise you. He and I would be really disappointed if you turn out to be a bad person. So behave yourself. Don't become like me or your dad"
"I didn't ask to be born! Maybe you should've aborted me if you didn't want me!"
"Aria! Shut it. I wanted you. So did your dad. That's why we kept you. Don't ever say that again. We both love you. So much. We only want the best for you. Don't ever forget that"
"If he wants the best for me, why isn't he staying?"
"Because he also wants the best for the person he loves. He's torn between two worlds. We should cut him some slack"
"Holy fuck Tae!" Jeongguk screamed, jumping up and down along with Taehyung. "I can't believe this"
"Me neither oh my god! Look at this" Taehyung handed Jeongguk his phone. Jeongguk saw an email with the art academy's logo on top of it.
"'You've been selected for an interview'" Jeongguk read. "Holy shit. When they say they're interviewing, it means that you're obviously going to get selected. Because they only invite the people they want to enroll!"
"I know!" Taehyung grinned. "I can't believe this! I applied but I never thought I would get selected. Wait, is this legit? What if it's a prank?"
Taehyung started reading the screen again and Jeongguk peaked in with him.
"Nope, nope it's legit. Look at this. It says Taehyung Kim. And it's sent by their official email address. And the vice-chancellor dude's signature is here too. What the fuck?"
Jeongguk grinned. "How did this even happen?"
"I don't know! I mean I did a lot of art projects in high school and I sent all of them to them when I applied! They must be interested in me because of them!"
"Holy shit, Tae! Congratulations!" Jeongguk wrapped his arms around Taehyung, squeezing him.
"Thank you oh my god!" Taehyung said, wrapping his arms around Jeongguk. They started jumping around in joy, still in their embrace and grinning like fools.
When Jeongguk pulled away, Taehyung's eyes were puffy with tears.
"Why are you crying?" Jeongguk asked.
"I'm so happy. This feels like a dream. Can you pinch me? I think it's a dream"
Jeongguk grinned and pinched Taehyung.
"Ow!"
"it's not a dream!" Jeongguk said.
"It's not!"
"You're going to New York!"
"I'm going to New York!"
Jeongguk stopped smiling, reality finally crashing down on him. "You're going to New York?"
Taehyung's grin was slapped off his face. "Oh"
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, both of them trying to process what was going on.
Taehyung was the first to speak up. "My mom's in New York now. I could meet her too"
"That's awesome," Jeongguk said in a small voice.
Taehyung shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Um..."
"You'll leave?"
Taehyung was speechless. "I..."
"Tae..."
"I...I wouldn't be gone for long"
"The degree is four years"
"Um...I need to speak with my mom"
Jeongguk stayed silent for a few seconds. "Will you leave me?"
"It's not like I want to!"
Jeongguk nodded, taking a step towards Taehyung. "This is important for you. I understand. It’s your future"
"Yeah. I've always dreamt of going to New York Art Academy. This is like one in a million chance"
Jeongguk nodded. "I'll wait for you"
"Oh"
"What?" Jeongguk's heart sank. "You..."
"No, I'm just..."
"What?"
"I want to go" Taehyung said, looking down.
"I know. We can do long-distance-"
"We can't," Taehyung said.
"W-what?"
"What if it doesn’t work?"
"How would you know? You've never done it!"
"I..."
"Taehyung?" Jeongguk felt his heart break.
Taehyung gulped. "You...I love you so fucking much. And I want to be with you so fucking badly. But...the more I think about it the more I feel like we're impossible"
"No, Tae. I'm definitely going to divorce Jieun and we're going to move in together-"
"No, we aren't"
"Tae..."
"I'm going to New York. I'm leaving you"
"You haven't decided that yet"
"Jeongguk, what do you mean? New York Art Academy? I
am
going. I want to! Desperately! This is my dream. My dream that I’ve had since I chose to do Art all those years ago! And this chance…it's like a lottery ticket. You graduate from there and companies are going to beg you to work for them! Do you want me to stay here for a relationship that there's almost no hope of continuing?"
"Taehyung what do you
mean
no hope?" Jeongguk's chest throbbed painfully. Tears were on the brink of falling from his eyes. "We love each other. We have all the hope in the world. I love you! And I'm going to divorce Jieun-"
"You said it will affect us negatively. You said it could fuck up all our lives. And a healthy relationship isn't supposed to destroy our lives. But all I see is me losing myself every time I let you come back to me after throwing me away"
"Taehyung, please. After I get a divorce everything will be better"
“Jeongguk, why didn’t you think about a divorce before you found out about Aria?”
Jeongguk just stared, dumbfounded. He started searching for answers in his brain for Taehyung’s question but none came up. So Taehyung started speaking.
“We were in love back then too. And you still told me to fuck off. What changed, Jeongguk? Nothing. Because that piece of information that Aria isn’t yours changed nothing. Aria might not be your biological daughter but it’s not like you started loving her any less. She isn’t any less your daughter after that day. You still love and care about her the same way. If you really wanted to be with me, you’d have taken a divorce the moment you realized you were in love with me. But you just kept going. Why?”
Jeongguk shook his head. “I…I don’t know”
“You didn’t decide to get a divorce because you love me. If you did, you’d have done it long ago. If you really had the intention to be in a stable relationship with me. You didn’t decide to get a divorce because, before that piece of information, you believed that your family was perfect. Because your family meant so much to you than me, no?”
“Tae” Jeongguk whispered. “No. That’s not true”
“Jeongguk, there’s no point denying it. ''Taehyung was choking up on his words. “You have proven to me over and over again how you value your family more than me. A-and even today you just decided to choose Aria over me…over our relationship” Taehyung sobbed. “It’s not like I told you to abandon her. I only wanted you to call you mine for once”
Jeongguk sobbed. “Tae, I’m so sorry”
Taehyung shook his head.
“Tae I’m going to get that divorce, Tae. I promise. I love you. Please. I just…I don’t know what to do. I want to be with you. I desperately do”
"No, I don't think so. You're still going to be bound to that woman because of your children. And you aren't even sure about your divorce now. They're just words and I've heard your words. I've heard you tell me that you want me in your life and go running back to your family after telling me to fuck off"
A silence stretched between them.
"You're coming up with all these arguments. Do you hate being with me this much?" Jeongguk said at last.
"I stayed with you for so long. I waited for you even when you told me to go away. I was here for you to come back to every time you chose your family over me. And even now you're trying to prioritize your stupid daughter over me, after all this time. After all we’ve done. You're thinking of her well-being more than mine. If we continue this, all I'll ever be for you is a second option. And that's what I hate. Not you. Not us. I'm sick and tired of feeling like this"
"Tae...that's not true. You and my family are two different things"
"Not really"
"What?"
"If this works out, wouldn't you and I be family? Or have you not thought that far ahead because I'm just a fling to you?"
"Taehyung you're being irrational-"
"No" Taehyung's voice was steady. "I'm not like the girl the guy gets at the end of the movie. You need to earn me. I need to see you making an effort to get me. Because all this time all I've been is the boy you come running to when you're sad, lonely, or horny. Every time you've fucked up I'm here to welcome you with wide arms. Every time you’ve doubted our relationship we get back together. Because I'm here for you to come back to. And I'm sick of that. If this continues, I'm going to get hurt. Just like I did every time you made me feel like the second choice. Just like every time you told me to stay away from you. And I feel like that's going to continue for a while, at least"
"Taehyung I'm trying. Please" tears made their way down Jeongguk's cheeks like a waterfall and he couldn't stop them. His heart clenched painfully and he didn't know what to do. "I'm fighting for you. Everything I'm doing is for you. I'm getting a divorce for you. I'm thinking of split parenting because of you"
Taehyung scoffed. He looked angry but there were tears rolling down his cheeks.
“It’s like…you tell me you’re going to get this divorce
for me?
True, I want you to get a divorce and I want you to be in an established relationship with me but
getting a divorce for me?
Jeongguk, how does that work? That’s so wrong to even think that you’re getting a divorce
for me
. A relationship isn’t a one-way thing. You say you’re getting a divorce for me is like saying you don’t want a divorce but you’re forcing yourself to, because of me?! Because I want you to?!”
Jeongguk was speechless. His mind was blank.
“You ruined fifteen years of your life to a lie. I wasn't there when that happened. So you suffered those fifteen years and you should be trying to get out of that lie you’re living, for
yourself
. Not me. Like…when did I even appear in your family life? I just wanted you to get a divorce for our relationship. Our relationship isn’t just mine! Our relationship is yours too! Am I the only one who wants this to work? And it's
your
divorce. I’m not involved in it. You can’t just say that you’re doing it for me like you’re saying you’re working on a painting for me. That’s not how it works!”
Jeongguk stared at Taehyung, dumbfounded. The tears on his cheeks had started to dry and his mind was still trying to process Taehyung’s words.
Taehyung let out a sigh. “You shouldn't be doing things for someone, Jeongguk. You've been doing things for other people your whole life and nothing for yourself. Please, Jeongguk. Please start doing things for yourself. All those things, including a divorce, you shouldn't be doing them for me, it should be for yourself! Because you deserve to be happy"
Another silence stretched between them. Jeongguk didn’t know what to say. However, when he finally found the words to speak, his voice cracked.
"Please don't leave me," Jeongguk said brokenly. "I want you in my life. I'm trying to make you happy, Tae"
Taehyung shook his head. "You don't understand. Happiness doesn't come from people around you. It comes from inside you. And now you're just depending on me for happiness. Aren't you?"
"Yes but-"
"That's not supposed to happen"
"But I love you. You're my only happiness"
“I know. I love you too” Taehyung sighed. "Do you have any idea how much it hurts to see you like this?" He sobbed. “Whatever messed up things you have in your mind…all these things you think that you’re doing, you think you’re doing for other people. That's such a wrong way to think. You’ve lived the last fifteen years of your life for Aria and Jieun. I don’t want you doing the same for me. Because that’s messed up”
“Okay I won’t do that…please, Tae. I will make it right. I’ll take that divorce and-”
“Jeongguk, no. You need to get your shit together. Let’s-”
“Please”
“Besides all of that, I don’t want to be treated like a second priority anymore. I just can’t” Taehyung was tearing up again. “And I don’t want to stay here and watch that happen for god knows how long. Until you make up your mind to finally let go of that family? And I’m not talking about Aria. Something’s gotta break, Gguk. And at this point, I feel like I’m the one who’s going to break again and again because you’re still focused on keeping your family tact”
Jeongguk shook his head. “No, please”
Taehyung sniffled. “I only wanted you to get a divorce” He whispered.
“And I will, Tae. I am going to get one-”
“Okay, do that. You
must
do that. For yourself. But I’m going to New York. I want to. I must. I’m not going to let that opportunity go, Jeongguk. I’m sorry. It hurts to be with you. It hurts to not be with you. I might as well-”
"Don't. Don't say it. Please. Don't go. We can make this work. We can-" Jeongguk stopped himself, eyes widening.
He sounded exactly like Jieun.
"Jeongguk" Taehyung stepped closer to him. His perfect face was scrunched with sadness. His eyes were puffy with tears. He had been weeping as much as Jeongguk.
"This is so toxic. Both of us keep hurting each other. This is destroying both of us, don't you see?" Taehyung said.
Jeongguk was speechless.
This can't be happening.
"No" Jeongguk shook his head violently. "I can't let you go"
"Jeongguk" Taehyung sobbed. "Do you think I want to? I would rather hurt myself by staying in this toxic relationship rather than leave you because you're here. But I want to go to New York and for once, let me be selfish. I know you're going through a hard time and you need me now more than anything. But let me be selfish for once in my life. Because you have been when it comes to me"
"Tae..." Jeongguk sobbed.
"I think we should take a break"
"Baby"
"Please. It's good for both of us. Even if I decide to leave, it won't be for a couple of more weeks. There are so many things to do. So we should stay away from each other and think things through. We should take a step back and focus on ourselves a little. You need to get your shit together. You go and try to solve those problems you're in and do what you really want to do. Not because of me, not because of your family"
Jeongguk stayed silent, staring at his feet, head empty and heart heavy.
"Let's try to solve our problems separately, hmm?"
Jeongguk was silent for a few seconds and then he nodded numbly. "You're right" He whispered. "I'm sorry for acting like a child"
"You didn't, baby," Taehyung said softly. "I'm sorry"
"No. Everything you said is true. I was a shitty person to you. And you deserve someone better than me"
"Nothing is wrong with you, Gguk. You just need to grow a little alone. You need to be by yourself a little and explore a little. Because all your life you've been attached to a family and then right after that, me. I think you need to figure yourself out. Alone"
Jeongguk nodded, staring at the floor. He couldn't meet Taehyung's eyes. "You're right"
"I love you, Gguk. I just wish the situation we're in was different"
"You think it would've worked out better if we were in a different situation? Where I didn't have a family to take care of?"
"Of course. We would've been the most perfect couple" Taehyung said as tears trailed their way down his cheek.
"I'm sorry"
"I'm sorry too"
"You're...really smart, Tae. And mature. So much more mature than me"
Taehyung shook his head. "You're just broken, Gguk. And you should fix yourself alone. Not depending on anyone"
"You're right" Jeongguk nodded. He felt so fucking empty.
A silence stretched between them, the two men awkward staring down at the floor lost in thought. It was Taehyung who spoke first after a while.
"You should leave"
"I'll get going, then," Jeongguk said as he took a step away from Taehyung. "I'm going to talk to my lawyer and figure shit out"
Taehyung nodded. "Let's steer clear from each other"
"Okay"
"I won't meet you after lectures and I won't be calling or visiting you"
"Yeah" Jeongguk wanted to cry again. "This is a good idea"
"I need to tell my mom and ask her what she thinks"
Jeongguk nodded. He quickly put on the rest of his clothes and stumbled towards the door of Taehyung's bedroom.
"Go back safely" Taehyung whispered.
Jeongguk started going down the stairs and Taehyung followed. Jeongguk was about to leave without talking to Taehyung because he knew he would breakdown again but-
"Gguk"
Jeongguk turned around.
Taehyung stepped closer to him. Tears ran down his cheek like no tomorrow. And it only made Jeongguk's heart clench tighter in his chest.
"My baby" Jeongguk whispered.
Taehyung let out a sob. "I'm so sorry"
"Baby" Jeongguk whispered. "You have nothing to be sorry for.
I'm
sorry"
Taehyung shook his head. He cusped Jeongguk's face with his palms and brought his face towards himself. Jeongguk closed his eyes right before Taehyung's lips met his.
Jeongguk wrapped his arms around Taehyung, drawing him closer to his body and securing him in an embrace. Jeongguk added pressure to the kiss and Taehyung opened his mouth, letting Jeongguk press his tongue inside.
Taehyung's hands were on Jeongguk's hair and Jeongguk tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Tears ran down his cheek and as his cheek pressed against Taehyung's he felt Taehyung's tears against his own.
When they pulled away, Taehyung was sobbing. Jeongguk looked at him once more and left the house. And throughout the whole ride Taehyung's words played in his mind over and over again like a broken record:
"You should leave"
Is this how Taehyung felt when Jeongguk said the same words to him that time?
|
~!~
Sally took the step two at a time to reach Paul's apartment. She waited until Storm pulled away from the curb before leaving her apartment to tell her friend about her good news. She knocked on Paul's door impatiently and when he didn't answer the first time, she knocked again, harder. He threw the door open and she smiled at him.
"Hey there stranger, what's going on?" she asked.
"You're the stranger now. We no longer see or hear from you," Paul replied turning from her but leaving the door open so she could enter.
She did and closed the door behind her. "I know I've been busy and I just got back from my trip..."
"I thought you were suppose to come back yesterday. We were looking for you."
"Who was looking for me and why?"
"Well we were, you know your friends, the people who actually care about you." Paul sat his sofa and grabbed a cigarette.
"Hey what's wrong? Why are you snapping at me all of a sudden?"
"I'm not snapping..."
"Yes, you are. The first time I do something with someone other than you guys and you're upset, why? When I spoke with you, you were happy for me or at least that's how it seemed, so what changed almost overnight?"
"I'm not upset. We don't know this guy and if anything would have happened to you..., we care about you that's all."
"Thanks for caring. I really appreciate it but I have to take a chance at some point in my life." Sally sighed, "Come on, I don't want to argue. Why are you in a bad mood and don't tell me it's because of me and Storm because it's not. Did you have a shitty day at work today?" Just as Paul opened his mouth to speak, Sally spoke up again, "and by the way he's not just some guy. He's my boyfriend. We made it official this weekend. I'm dating him exclusively."
"What? You're dating him exclusively? Why? What's gotten into you?"
"What do you mean Paul? I...I want to date him. I like him a lot...why..."
"You don't really know him? You don't know anything about him but you're ready to become his girlfriend over a weekend."
"Okay, you're my friend and I understand that you care but don't have the right to say that about someone that you don't know and especially about my life. It's fine that you go out with half the city but when I begin to date someone you get pissed about it and tell me that something's wrong with me? Go to hell Paul."
Sally turned to walk away but Paul grabbed her hand. "I'm sorry. You're right I'm being a dick and you don't deserve that." He took a deep breath and breathed it out. "I'm jealous because my lover and I broke up. I thought he would be the one or someone that I could have something with that wasn't a one-night-stand but he turned out to be a real bitch. And here you come in glowing and happy about your new relationship and I'm jealous of you. I'm sorry."
She looked at him trying to see if he was being honest. When she was satisfied, she responded. "I accept you apology. And I'm sorry about your..."
"Thank you." After a moment of silence, "Well have you eaten? Are you hungry?"
"Not yet but I will be."
"There's a Closer marathon coming on in a few minutes if you want to watch with me? We haven't done that for a while now."
Sally smiled, "Yes that would be nice. What do you feel like, pizza?"
"Sure if you don't mind..."
"No...that..." her phone rang at that time and when Sally saw who was calling she smiled, "Just a sec Paul," she said to him before answering the call, "Hey there,"
"Have dinner with me?" Storm asked as soon as Sally answered the phone.
"No I can't. I'm having dinner with my neighbor Paul, the guy who watched my apartment for me."
"I'm being ditched already? Okay, I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Maybe...maybe we'll see each other tomorrow."
"I'm reduced to maybe. As you boyfriend my answer should always be yes."
"That we're gonna have to talk about." Noting the look on Paul's face, she ended her call with Storm. "We'll talk later."
"I'm going to see Brad. Call me before bed."
~!~
Sally looked out at the ocean as she answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Hello, how are you doing?"
"Well thank you. Do you have the information?"
"Yes, I do. His name is Storm Antonio Niccolo Monsello and he is the son of the Antonio Storm Niccolo Mosello. He now owns the law firm that handled your case. Henry Lister was his Godfather. His personal worth is almost ten billion dollars not including what he inherited from his father with the firm. He speaks five languages fluently: English, Italian, Spanish, German and Portuguese, graduated top of his class and has several Juris Doctorate degrees. He's considered amongst the best lawyers and his reputation keeps growing. His sister is Ayasha Monsello. She has some shares in the firm but he has controlling interest. He's very good in case you were wondering about the safety of your transfer."
She knew he spoke Italian. She had heard him and his family communicate in the language. "Has he been informed as to who I am?"
"No he has not. Would like me to make the introductions?"
"No. It's not time and there is still a ways to go."
"Only a few months."
"Yes, I'll be prepared. Thank you for the information."
"Let me know if you need anything. Your information will remain confidential."
"Thank you."
~!~
As the woman walked to her car from a long day at work, her phone began to ring. She stopped when she saw the private number and after two rings the call ended. The phone rang again, showing a private number. This time it rang three times before stopping. The third call, she answered at the second ring.
"It's me."
"She knows of him. I just gave her the information."
"No, she was only looking for information."
"Should we tell him now?"
"Has he taken over the firm yet?
"She's gearing up. This is the last year."
"Yes, we do. Let me know if anything changes."
The call ended.
~!~
Storm opened the door happy to see Sally. She smiled but he noticed it didn't reach her eyes. He wondered if she had gotten news about her internship and it had made her upset. He pulled her into the house and into his arms and kissed her. She pulled away from him and moved to the kitchen.
"What's wrong?" he asked as he joined her in the kitchen.
"Nothing, just some things on my mind."
"Did you get news about your internship?"
"No, not as of yet."
"Get some plates please. Do you want to go to the movies tonight or we can stay in."
"No I don't feel like it."
"Okay. Well I'm inviting you to a party next week."
"What kind of party?"
"Celebrating and fund raising party. It's for my father and his partner Henry Lister."
"I don't think I can make it. I have to work."
"I'm sure if you ask Jack he wouldn't mind giving you the night off." Storm came around to her and wrapped his arms around her.
"I want you there with me. We're together now and going to functions like this is one of the things we're to do together."
"So what about the parties I want to attend. Do they count?"
Storm looked at her form the side. She was tense in his arms. "Yes, they count. You just have to let me know when and what to wear and I'm there beside you."
"It's not that easy. Not everything is that easy."
"Well this is. This party is to celebrate the legacy of my father and godfather and it's also a fund raiser for students and single mothers who want to become paralegals and lawyers. It's a good cause Sally and I want you there with me. I want to share this with you."
She moved out of his arms and began getting the knives and forks for their dinner. "Well I don't think your mother would approve of me being there."
That surprised Storm because as far as he knew Sally and his mother had never met. "How would you know if she would approve of you being there? As far as I know you and my mother have never met."
"I heard what she said the day after Ayasha's wedding, when she asked you about me or should I say the person you went to the wedding with." Sally looked at the look on Storm's face trying to remember what was said between both him and his mother that she may have overheard.
"I didn't say anything about you Sally. She doesn't know anything about you."
"She said Audrey come from the right family. She's not going to be happy seeing you show up with me."
He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. "Sally, I don't care what she thinks. She's my mother and you're the woman I'm with. So what if she's upset, she'll have to get over it eventually."
Sally didn't pull away immediately. "I don't have anything to wear."
"Well you don't have to worry about that. I got you a dress."
She pulled away from him and walked away before turning to look back at him. "Tell me you didn't buy me a dress? You didn't tell me about this even because you didn't think I would be able to dress appropriately for the occasion?"
"What? Where did that come from?" Suddenly Storm laughed, "Sweetheart I got the dress because I had forgotten to tell you about the party and unfair for me to ask you to get a dress on such short notice. It's no big deal that I bought you the dress."
"You are so full of shit. You knew about this party. You said it yourself that this is a fund raiser held in honour of your father and godfather so how did you forget about it?"
"I wasn't too thrilled about attending before but I am now with you."
"Go to hell and take your dress with you. I'm not you mistress or some..." She grabbed her helmet and headed for the door.
Storm grabbed her upper arm and turned her to him. "What is wrong with you? You know I don't think you're my mistress. You're my..."
"Get your hands off me now!" She wrenched her arm from his hand and slammed the door as she left.
But she had already ridden off on her bike. Storm grabbed his car keys and tried to follow her, but it was impossible in the traffic and he lost her quickly. Instead he when to her apartment and waited for her but she never showed up. After about an hour of calling and receiving no reply he left.
~!~
He followed her home from work the next night and knew she saw him. She'd glanced back several times while riding and he didn't hide the fact that he was driving behind her. He had also shown up at work at the end of her shift and waited for her to leave. Sitting in the car, he watched her get off the bike. She took a tentative step in his direction but seem to quickly change her mind. He looked on as she bent her head and went up the stairs.
Storm hit the steering wheel and willed himself to say in the car. He wouldn't go to her. He wanted her to come to him and explain why she deliberately picked that fight. He knew that's what she did but couldn't understand why. Did she really feel that uncomfortable being with him? Did she really think he wasn't serious or would change his mind about being with her? What did he have to do to make her understand she was his choice? Why couldn't she understand he wanted to take this chance with her? He didn't know what to do to convince her. All the other women he'd been with would have done everything they could to be by his side almost 24/7. Not Sally, she retained her independence and it was he who struggle with her freedom because he wanted her by his side all the time. He wanted her to be there to greet him when he came home. He wanted to have dinner with her every night.
While he loved his father and godfather, he was looking forward to showing up with a date on his arms. He wanted to enjoy going to the party with Sally. He didn't want to deal with the flirting from women he was not interested in, or to be asked when he was planning on settling down. And he certainly didn't want his mother trying to set him up with anyone. Although he loved his mother, he often felt she cared more about the image of the so called perfect women than someone who could and would actually love him. With his own personal money, his inheritance and the law firm, his wealth was in the billions. Only he didn't feel like a commodity with Sally. With Sally he was just Storm, boyfriend to a girl who was as innocent as she had secrets.
~!~
The phone rang and the woman answered happily.
"Hello my baby. When are you coming to see me again?"
"Hi, you sound great. I don't know when I can. I'm still waiting to hear about finishing my degree."
"You have not heard about your internship?"
"No not yet, but enough about me, what's going on with you?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine. You need to stop worrying about me. You have taken care of me long enough."
"You're the only family I have. I have to take care of you."
"And I know you better than anyone else. What is on your mind Lina?"
After a brief moment Sally began to speak. "I got invited to party but I'm afraid to go."
"Do you think anyone will recognize you?"
"I'm not sure. He said he would protect my identity."
"Go Lina."
"But..."
"No, no but. Lina you cannot live in fear for the rest of your life. You need to go out and meet people, meet someone, fall in love. You cannot live like this my baby."
"I want to go...I mean I would like to go. It would be nice..."
"Who invited you?"
"A new friend I met."
"Then you should go. Maybe you meet a nice guy and get married."
Sally laughed, "That's not going to happen. That's not in the cards for me."
"Yes, it is Lina. You need to allow it to be. Go to this party. Get dressed up. Have fun, dance, meet a nice guy and then come and see me and tell me all about it. I miss you my child."
"I miss you too. I love you."
"I love you too."
~!~
Storm was coming out of his closet when he heard the chime of his door bell. He placed the diamond cufflinks into the cuffs of his dress shirt unhurriedly. The chime sounded again but he took his time putting on his shoes. Looking through the peephole, he couldn't believe who was standing on the other side. His heart began to beat a little faster as he opened the door happier than pissed.
~!~
Sally looked up at him and swallowed hard not knowing what to say but knew she had to begin somewhere. But the dilemma she was in wasn't easy. How did she protect herself and her family and still get what she wanted? When Storm stepped aside, she entered and turned around to face him.
"Hi," she said softly and timidly.
"Hi," he responded closing the door before motioning her to the kitchen.
She moved ahead of him and turned to face him when they were at the counter. Memories of the last time she was there came back, the argument vivid in her mind. Her head was down when she began to speak.
"This won't take long..."
His fingers when under her chin to tilt her face up to look at him. "Now I can hear you better, continue."
"I'm sorry."
"What exactly are you sorry for?"
She swallowed hard. "I'm sorry for implying that you treat me like your mistress."
"You want to tell me the real reason why you reacted that way."
She looked away and he turned her face back to him. "I'm afraid I won't fit in and I felt uncomfortable with you buying me the dress. You're always trying to buy me stuff and I don't know how to feel about it..."
"I buy..."
"No wait, please let me finish. You're the first guy really to buy my anything, I mean dinner and you took me away for the weekend and I don't know how to feel about it. I know you don't treat me as your mistress, well I hope not but my father's the only man who's ever bought me clothes and well he doesn't really count because he was my dad, and Tricks fixes my bike for free so...I don't know...I'm terrified of anyone thinking I'm only with you because of your money. That really scares me and I know you have money. You're a lawyer and that beach house isn't cheap and neither is this house...not that I'm looking at that but..."
Storm smiled and put a finger over her lips to stop her from speaking. He kissed her gently, "Thank you. I accept your apology and I'm sorry. I never thought about how you felt in all of this. I've never been with a woman who cared this much about the things that I bought her. I never thought any of it would make you uncomfortable and for that I'm sorry. I purchased that dress for you because I thought it would look beautiful on you. I want you by my side."
"You do? Even though we broke up?"
"We broke up? When?"
"When I left..."
"We had an argument but I don't recall either of us ending our relationship so Ms. MacDonald, you are still my girlfriend and I would like to formally invite you as my date, to a dinner party in memory of my father and godfather."
Sally smiled and pulled her bottom lip
between her teeth, "Yes, I would love to attend. Did you return the dress?"
Storm kissed her again, "Come with me." He took her into his bedroom and retrieved the box with the dress from his closet. "Hold on," he picked up his phone and called Ayasha. "Hello sis, Sally and I need your help now."
"Sì, Storm che cosa avete bisogno."
~!~
|
(*Author's POV)
He tried to put it in the back of his mind. He tried not to let it be his focus but it couldn't be stopped. The ride back to the apartment. The time there as they joyfully conversed. The moments even when Youngjae finally arrived. It stuck in his head.
And only was solidified as an anxiety when he observed Jackson. Jackson who should've been very chatty with his friends whom he hasn't seen in a while. But instead, he seemed very concentrated on his phone.
"Right Jackson?" Youngjae asked tapping Jackson's shoulder thinking he had been listening to them talk all the while.
Jackson looked up with wide eyes tilting his phone away from prying eyes. This action did not go unnoticed.
"Huh?"
"Weren't you listening?" Youngjae asked nudging the older.
"Oh sorry, what?" Jackson then turned his focus back to his friends as he placed his phone face down on his lap.
"We were talking about how BamBam almost fell into the Han River when he got off balance." Yugyeom repeated their conversation topic.
"Ah! Hah yeah, that was funny." Jackson nodded as his phone vibrated quietly. This quick dismissive response did nothing for his friends as they watched him pick his phone back up checking the notification.
"It seems you were right." JB whispered to Jnyoung who nodded in response. From first seeing Yejin he had his suspicions. And he wasn't about to let it be swept under the rug.
"You ask him." Jinyoung said to JB both understanding that this had to be called out. JB sighed through his nose but resigned to the role of a father questioning his daughter about some troublesome boy.
"What has you so preoccupied?" JB asked staring at Jackson's lowered head. It took a moment for the other to realize he was being spoken to.
"Huh?" Jackson finally responded.
"Who are you texting?" JB asked cutting to the chase.
Jackson just lowered his phone discreetly shutting it off and stared blinking not giving an answer.
"It's Yejin isn't it?" Jinyoung questioned with sharp eyes knowing Jackson was indeed guilty.
"Ah sorry I was messing with my phone too much huh? What were we talking about? The Han River?" Jackson tried his best to switch the topic but nobody was going to help him seeing as they also wanted to know.
"Yah...why are you changing the subject?" JB asked him raising a brow.
"I'm not they're the one who asked me about BamBam falling in the river-"
"Jackson you were texting Yejin weren't you?" Jinyoung inquired again.
"...So?" Jackson decided to own up but took a now defensive tone about it.
"Ah seriously? You suddenly close or something?" BamBam asked crossing his arms.
"It was obvious." Yugyeom mumbled to himself.
"Hey what are you so shamelessly asking??" Jackson asked the youngest two gesturing at them.
"And texting her is a bad thing?" Youngjae asked obviously out of the loop.
"It's not bad but it's not really good either."
"Hey since when do you get to decide what good or bad for me? Why should texting her be bad??" Jackson argued.
"Because you just broke up with someone else less than a week ago and is supposed to be heartbroken." Jinyoung replied folding his arms against his chest.
"Huh? He broke up? Since when?" Youngjae asked as it was the youngest three who were confused about it all.
"Since a few days ago. We only found out because we went over to HongKong for a bit. But that begs the question what makes you think it's a good idea to talk to an ex at such a time?"
"Why can't I? And why are you so sensitive to this fact? I'm moving on isn't that a good thing?"
"Yes sure move on but do you need to get into a relationship again so soon to accomplish that?" Jinyoung asked incredulously.
"We're just texting not dating."
"Okay, but were you platonic about it?" JB questioned.
"...Frankly, that's none of your business." Jackson responded feeling attacked again. Why was his love life needed to be judged and watched over by them he wondered?
Everyone was silent for a moment as the three youngest were watching this unfold with growing concern.
"....Yeah, you're technically right. It's your life and your love interests. You're an adult and it's your personal issues. But that doesn't stop us and others close to you to warn you about something that could leave you hurt." JB said with a serious tone.
"I know you don't mean any bad but it feels like you're both just trying to control my life right now. And sometimes the overbearing want to protect comes across as suffocating. I can't help but feel you're deterring my life. I'm not a kid. I feel I can discern what's bad and what's not alright?" Jackson defensively replied.
"And if we hadn't deterred your life some beforehand maybe you'd still be caught up on Lizzy." Jinyoung responded displeased.
"Are you taking credit for that now? Yahoo you've managed to convince me to stay away from my cheating ex-girlfriend." Jackson sarcastically replied.
"Hyung I don't think they meant it like th-" Youngjae tried to intervene seeing how heated the conversation was getting.
"Hey don't twist his words! You make us sound like some asshole friends. We don't like seeing you hurt. If our words can knock some sense into you then it'd be worth becoming the bad guy for the short term." JB scolded also flaring his anger.
"Or perhaps ruining something that could lead to my happiness long term!" Jackson reciprocated his frustration.
"Really Jackson? You think you are going to date Yejin again for how long till you're both ready for marriage? Going by how her brother acted towards you'll have a hard time." JB responded huffing at Jackson persistence.
"Not only that but you do realize how unrealistic you are being right now? You're only nineteen and still in university! You don't see any of us seriously dating, do you? No cause dating shouldn't be treated like a pass time!" Jinyoung spoke also was losing his cool.
"You think I'm dating for fun? You think I let my heart get squashed over and over because I find it fun??" Jackson responded angrily as he sat up tense.
"No. But if you'd stop being so easily swayed by infatuation then perhaps that wouldn't have happened so often." JB replied also straightening and leaning forwards.
"Oh so now I'm at fault for following my heart? And how can you both even scold me on this?? What would you know? The only sheets you've been in is each other's." Jackson snapped out thoughtlessly.
This comment was the last string and before either of the two could respond Mark was quicker. Having been catercorner to Jackson he suddenly leaned over and whacked the back of Jackson's head startling everyone. But mostly the victim of the hit.
Jackson quickly turned his head and stood up to see Mark frowning looking very upset. Mark also stood up making everyone worried an actual fight was going to happen.
"Why did you do that??" Jackson asked Mark looking betrayed.
"You need to watch what you say." Mark replied feeling such conflict at standing up against the younger.
"This isn't your fight. Stay out of it Mark." Jackson spoke in English pushing the older away.
"What's wrong with you?" Mark on reflex grabbed Jackson's arm that pushed aside and out of irritation and hurt tossed it off him.
"Guys-" JB now stood up not liking the amount of physical stuff they were doing.
"I think everyone needs to calm down right now." Jinyoung ordered also standing up.
"Yeah chill." BamBam added.
Jackson just clenched his jaw and glared at the ground. Deciding enough was enough he said nothing as he stormed off.
"Hey, where are you going?" JB asked but got no response as Jackson opened and slammed the door behind him leaving the apartment.
Mark's heart was beating quickly as his skin felt cold. He quickly decided he absolutely hated fighting with Jackson.
---
After that happened Youngjae, BamBam, and Yugyeom were filled with questions as to what exactly happened when they were in HongKong. After short answers, their gathering came to a disappointing end.
With the younger three heading home Jinyoung and JB gave Mark an apology on Jackson's behalf but Mark said there was no need as he also was sorry. And with this sort of negative air, they decided Jackson wasn't going to be back anytime soon and retreated to their now respective rooms.
Mark couldn't sleep. How could he? He tossed and turned and whenever he checked the time it was only getting later and later. Further into the night without any sign of Jackson returning home.
Glancing at the clock again after another failed attempt for sleep the time was already little passed two. He was tired. His body wanted to sleep but his mind wouldn't let him.
Where was Jackson? What was he doing? Was he okay? Did he go to see Yejin? If so why has he been gone so long? Won't he come back soon? Mark kept wondering and worrying. He couldn't even work up the rational sense not to be worried or figure he was being too sensitive.
"Jackson..." Mark mumbled to himself. The whispered name surprised himself as he hadn't meant to speak the others name but it kind of just came out.
Biting on his lip he felt a low and solemn thrum over come him. The notion of being at odds with someone he held such affection for made his eyes burn.
And it was only after an hour more did Mark give up. The fact Jackson still wasn't here and with the lack of sleep, it was making him gradually go insane. He got out of bed and quietly made his way back to the modest living room.
On the way, he spotted JB's closed room door where him and Jinyoung were sleeping. He wondered if they were as worried as he was. Well, considering he was there awake it may have been a tad different for them as exhaustion had overruled their concern.
Turning on only the kitchen light he shuffled over to their small couch and sat himself ironically where Jackson was several hours ago. After a short while of blankly staring at the wall, he let his head fall to the side and back as he shut his eyes.
He let himself fall into a light doze as his breathing shallowed and body relaxed leaning back onto the couch. And what seemed like a longer time than it actually was a sound roused him from his light sleep.
His head snapped towards the direction of the noise. It was the handle of the front door being opened. Panicked Mark decided although he wanted Jackson to come home he wasn't sure he was ready to face him so he laid back again pretending to be asleep.
The door was opened very slowly. Mostly likely to keep everyone from waking. Mark felt his face twitch as he was trying his hardest keep his nerves calm. His hearing heightened as he listened to Jackson gently shut the door behind him.
And since Mark wasn't laying across the couch as he was leaned back and upright he was visible from the door. Jackson paused as he saw the older on the couch seemingly resting or asleep.
Contemplating what he should do he ended up giving into his guilt and slowly approached him. Mark practically held his breath as he felt Jackson's presence come up next to him.
"...Mark." Jackson spoke quietly as he gently grazed his hand over the other's shoulder. The light touch tickled Mark as he pretended to stir awake.
"...Jack?" He asked as he rubbed his eyes and stretched his legs.
"You should go to the bed. I'll sleep here." Jackson spoke as he watched Mark sit up.
Although Jackson words were said kindly enough Mark wondered if he was still mad so as to suggest they shouldn't share the room.
"...Where have you been?" Mark dodged the suggestion opting to get some answers.
"Out. Don't worry I didn't get into any trouble..." Jackson vaguely answered.
"It's morning already. What kept you so long??"
"I was hanging around a park." Jackson replied with a straight face.
"...I don't doubt you but I feel you weren't alone." Mark spoke his worries.
"...And if I wasn't? I doubt you'd be happy about it if you felt the need to be on their side." Jackson said briefly pointing to JB's room that was visible to where he stood.
Mark didn't want this. They weren't supposed to arguing. This cold tone Jackson used towards him made him feel so hurt and walked on.
"...I am on your side you know." Mark responded as he slowly picked himself off the couch. His brows were knit together as he licked his lips.
"You are??" Jackson responded sound surprised and a bit unsure.
"I am but...that doesn't mean I'll always agree with you." Mark said looking Jackson in the eye briefly before brushing passed him and headed towards Jinyoung's room.
Once inside the room, he wrapped his arms around himself as he had to blink away the creeping tears. What kind of disease was love; where it'd have him walking on clouds one moment and the next plummeting to the ground.
---
Shortly after that Jackson also couldn't help but feel a cold sinking feeling at being at odds with Mark. But stubborn with his belief, he tried his best to shake it off. Now seeing as he'd be sleeping on the couch he wandered about to find a blanket of some sort.
His shuffling through the house woke its owners. Jackson momentarily froze as he heard a door open. Out came JB looking sleepy and irritated.
"...Did you just get back??" He asked eyeing the younger displeased.
"...Yeah. Am I not welcome?" Jackson asked bluntly expressing how he felt.
"Why wouldn't you be?"
"Perhaps because you're looking at me like I just came back from a nights worth of drinking and missed some relatives birthday." Jackson spoke tilting his head forward a bit.
"It's half past four in the morning. Where were you?" JB got to the point not caring for Jackson's exaggerations.
"A park." Jackson answered noticing how different JB and Mark were with the same questions.
"For for over six hours??" JB questioned unbelievingly.
"Yeah." Jackson shrugged.
"You can't stand more than three alone at home. I'm not stupid. You met up with Yejin." JB spoke not beating around the bush.
"And so what if I did?" Jackson snapped looking JB in the eyes.
"...Sometimes I really can't understand you. What exactly are you hoping to accomplish by doing this?"
"...I'm going to take all that I've learned from past mistakes and make this one work that's what." Jackson nodded firmly.
"...And what are you planning on doing since you only were supposed to stay here for a couple more days at most? Are you going to fly her to HongKong?" JB asked with a growing frown.
"No, we talked it over. I'm going to stay here."
"Huh?" JB deadpanned.
"Of course I couldn't impede on your hospitality for that long so I'll be staying at a hotel till further notice." Jackson said probably sounding too professional about it.
"Uhh...are you serious? What about Mark?? You aren't just traveling solo here."
"...He...has his choices." Jackson replied sounding less confident on the subject of the eldest.
"Oh? Like what?" JB asked sounding very skeptical.
"He can stay with me or go back to HongKong."
"I realize you aren't exactly the closest but don't you think that a bit of a dick move?" JB spoke crossing his arms.
"...I said he could stay with me as well."
"Oh and what? Be your third wheel for however long you please. Isn't this supposed to be his vacation??"
"Well, that's for him to decide where the vacation lies. In HongKong with my family or with me as a friend closer in age." Jackson said scratching his sideburns.
"...Where did all the bending over backwards for him go? Suddenly you aren't in your homeland and you feel you can just stop being a host?" JB questioned.
"It's not that-..." Jackson spoke but was quickly losing his confidence.
"You know what?...You're an adult now. You're right maybe we should stop burdening your life. Maybe learning from your mistakes is really the only way to go huh? Go ahead and do what you like. But don't expect us to back you up when you explain this to Mark." JB spoke quickly sounding done and tired. And without waiting for a response he turned away and headed back to his room.
He was right. How exactly was he supposed to explain this to Mark? And more scarily...how was he supposed to explain this to his mother? In fact, she still probably thinks he was going out with Lizzy.
And with how he parted with the eldest several minutes ago he wasn't feeling confident nor very good about it. He wondered what Mark's reaction would be. Would he be pissed? Or perhaps tired and irritated?
He felt a weird déjà vu sweep over him as he pondered. Back when he was still first getting acquainted with Mark and had met up with Lizzy by the ice cream shop she had asked him something.
"Yeah sure...Say...let's go on a date. Since we didn't yesterday; it'd be perfect to make up." She shook it off and just smiled.
That's right they had had a small fight and to make up she wanted to go on a date that same day. But he couldn't and she wasn't happy about that. How did he respond again? The memory was a bit fuzzy.
"Believe me in any other situation I would totally go! But...I actually got Mark in the car waiting for me right now." Jackson admitted shifting in his seat.
He remembered. They had been at the mall just before then. She had called him during some shoe shopping. He could remember how she was unhappy about the fact he had to play host for the older.
"Why not? He's an adult plus he's older than us right? Why can't he entertain himself for the day?" She asked now frowning.
But this wasn't the specific memory he had in mind. It's what he said to convince her that he couldn't so easily change his plans anymore. It's the memory that mainly came to mind as he was feeling and hoping to still be true.
"See...I'm pretty sure he'd be okay with spending one of his numbered days alone in our unfamiliar house just so I could go out with you but I'm not sure that would check out as being a good host." Jackson admitted slumping back onto the metal chair.
That's right Mark would be playing the third wheel. Jackson would be taking advantage of Mark's kindness. But that was something Mark seemed to have plenty of.
Sure they had a little squabble but Jackson although anxious knew he head to get to Mark to convince his mother things would be okay. And as far as Mark went well...he still the same angel he knew right?
---
How could one describe it or put it down into words? Mark wondered if all these emotions just a prelude to worse things? It felt like being trapped in a dark room with someone laughing from the outside of the door.
It was a madness that had him question his sanity and correct judgment. It was as though he had no control. Like whatever was trapping him left him to sit silently and let what was going on outside happen.
The yearning of the best outcome became a growing fantasy that wanted to be let out more and more but something or someone locked the door. What could he do? Such a churning conflict had him testing his limits.
Being hurt by someone you care about seemed to test him thoroughly. It made him cautious to try and not make hit visible on the outside. He knew he'd have to try his best to make it work. But something told him it could just gradually worsen as the seriousness grew.
And with how Mark dealt with his feelings that would not be good. He bottled his feelings up. He never vented or readily complained. He was often complacent even if things bothered him. Such behavior led to explosions.
A disaster he prayed wouldn't happen.
|
The darkness when Yuuri opened his eyes was a little bit disorienting. Had Viktor actually closed the heavy curtains to let him sleep in? Skepticism scratched out that thought even before he caught the faintly orange glow of streetlights in the darkness outside through the bare and lightly frosted glass. No, not a surprising display of consideration. Just the jetlag waking him up way too early. Or a dream? He shifted a little. The heavy weight of Viktor’s arm thrown around him was an anchor pinning him to this reality. Not a dream, then, but a reality that still felt like one.
He was a little unsure of what to do, so he stayed still and quiet for a few moments, just revelling in the soft breathing beside him. Back with Viktor. Any time apart now felt like sand was getting stuck in the hourglass, seconds dragging painfully out into minutes and hours.
Still, this wasn’t his usual morning. It was more usual for him to wake up, hands outstretched towards a Viktor shaped indent hours after the other man had left. And usually, he wasn’t the little spoon, since he often crawled into bed much later, burrowing into the side of an already fast-asleep Viktor. He liked the current feeling of Viktor curled around him though, even though it made him afraid to even breathe too deeply for fear of disturbing the other man. Viktor could be a worryingly light sleeper.
… on the other hand, Yuuri could only stay still for so long.
He slid his hand underneath the pillow, giving in to the urge to check his phone. The clock glowed to light at the touch of the button. Home: 11:41am. Roaming 5:41am. Yup. Definitely the jetlag. It was unsettling to feel this awake this early.
Yuuri pressed his face into the pillow, wondering if he could fall back asleep. The smell of fresh laundry, the soft whisper of expensive sheets against his cheek. Today it all conspired against him, every sensation radiating Viktor’s electric presence, making Yuuri’s heart thrum fiercely against his ribs. He was home. And since he wasn’t sleepy this morning…
Yuuri undulated backwards, pressing his spine into Viktor’s chest, rolling gently from hips to shoulders as he maximized all contact.
Even Yuuri’s knees fit perfectly back against Viktors, and Yuuri let out a unintended sigh as Viktor tucked in around him, just a little closer, flesh meeting flesh in a long unbroken line from toes to Viktor’s nose pressing into the back of Yuuri’s neck.
The arm over his chest tightened. Soft syllables from behind him were murmured sleepily into his shoulder, and Yuuri grinned, unsure if it was Russian or a universal non-language of sleep-deprived humans.
Yuuri slowly rocked his hips in a teasing invitation. He pulled one of the hands up from his chest while Viktor was still pliant and unresisting with sleep, kissing the fingers gently, sweetly, lipping lightly at the golden band on Viktor’s finger.
Contented noises were pressed into the back of his neck.
But right now… Yuuri didn’t want contented. He wanted to pull Viktor from that contented, sleepy state and drop him straight into a pit of desperate need.
He wanted a bit of payback.
Yuuri parted his lips, hyper aware of the feel of his own breath hot and damp and warm around Viktor’s hands. He pressed out his tongue, stroking it through the spaces between Viktor’s fingers. He used his own hand to help unfurl Viktor’s fingers, rubbing his lips against the relaxed tendons, sweeping his tongue into a swirl around the tip of one and slowly drawing it into his mouth. He tentatively played with the texture of the skin, letting his eyes drift close as he traced Viktor’s fingerprints, then licking longer paths as he started to suck gently, pulling the finger deeper into his mouth.
The soft noises against his neck dissolved into rather sinful moans.
He felt Viktor’s finger curl against his tongue, and Yuuri’s smile broke the suction for a moment, before he pulled gently back. “Good morning,” he whispered, and then used his tongue to convince two of the fingers back into his mouth. Viktor was definitely using words now, although the rolling, delicious syllables made no sense to Yuuri they definitely stirred up heat inside him, urging him on, more daring in his playful exploration. Sucking on Viktor’s fingers in a gentle rhythm, he started pushing his tongue between them, around them, wanting something else in his mouth.
His hands on Viktor’s forearm held him there, and Viktor’s other arm snaked underneath his chest, pinning him back in a vice-like grip as hips rocked forward, Viktor’s fingers slid with maddening strength against his ribcage, tracing the edges of muscle and bone, barely letting up the pressure to move. When Viktor’s hand found his nipple a moan vibrated through Yuuri’s whole body. Viktor repeated the caress, then let up on the pressure, becoming feathery light and teasing.
The sudden scrape of Viktor’s manicured nail against the sensitive, hardening skin rocketed through Yuuri’s chest, sending heat curling lower and lower. The edge of pain was a burning pleasure, exquisite and all-consuming in that moment. Yuuri’s hips flung back into Viktor, and he arched his chest into the touch, demanding more.
Yuuri’s breath became shaky, and he let go of the Viktor’s forearm to reach behind him, stroking an encouraging hand up Viktor’s sculpted side. He moaned through Viktor’s fingers, and a part of his brain – his quickly fogging up, lustful brain – knew that the Viktor loved the sensation of the vibration.
This time was no exception. The response was immediate and powerful. Viktor’s body was going rigid, trembling, needy, near-frantic. Viktor shifted, half leaning up, throwing one impossibly long, supple leg over both of Yuuri’s, wrapping sinuously around them and pulling back tightly, holding Yuuri nearly immobile against him.
Viktor kept circling the nipple, his touch gone light again, ghosting across the tip and sending whimpers spilling from Yuuri’s mouth, around Viktor’s fingers.
Shivers danced across his spine as he felt the silky brush of Viktor’s hair against the junction of his shoulder and neck, moments before hot, wet lips latched onto his skin there and he moaned in earnest. “Yes!”
“Oh Yuuri…” Teeth were drawn lightly across his shoulder, and he was sure his blood would be pulled from his thundering, pound veins up to under the fever-hot surface of his skin, drawn up to meet Viktor’s lips as if magnetized. Yuuri’s cock throbbed forward, bobbing off of his stomach with the force of his heartbeats, untouched and blindingly hard, leaking as if crying from lack of direct attention.
Viktor’s indrawn breath was shuddery as well, and his hands dug into the planes of Yuuri’s hips, holding his still as he slicked his cock up and down the cleft of Yuuri’s ass. The gentle caress of it moving past his sensitive entrance was enough to turn the gasped breaths to half-sobs. “Yuuri…” and it drove Yuuri insane that Viktor sounded so silky-cool, even if the edges of the name were drawn ragged with want. “I want so badly to fuck you like this,” Viktor murmured into Yuuri’s shoulder, hips rocking. The length of his rigid erection slid through the sweat between them. The blankets were too hot. Viktor was too hot.
And it’s not what Yuuri imagined, not what he’d initially planned, but Viktor was a powerful erotic force, desire for Viktor like this had been burned into Yuuri’s brain, etched deeply over the years. His own thoughts were growing scattered; it had felt like so, so long apart and last night wasn’t nearly enough and suddenly all he wanted was to be taken. “Yes!” he gasped, drowning in his own need. “Please,” he added, desperately. “Now,” he was running out of the capacity to remember any more English words.
He was shifted as the Viktor’s hands left his chest, pulling out from underneath his body letting Viktor uncurl over the bed to get a condom and lube. Yuuri curled in on himself, trying to collect his breathing as the sounds of Viktor preparing himself filled the small bedroom with anticipation.
And then Viktor was back, one arm again over Yuuri’s chest, the other trapped between them, pulling Yuuri back against him. Yuuri felt every nerve sing as Viktor slid a muscular thigh between his own.
“Shh,” Viktor hushed him and he realized his breaths were charged with small whimpers and Yuuri wanted to cry because the last thing he could possibly do right now was - “relax…” But Viktor’s arm was warm around him, an intimate rendition of a thousand shared hugs. Yuuri curled his toes, catching Viktor’s own between the tips of his toes and the ball of his foot as he squirmed, craving Viktor to take him, to stop being so oh, Yuuri didn’t know if it the right word was cool or so, so hot, setting every part of him on fire.
Viktor’s hand stroked down his side, gentle, comforting. “Vik-Viktor…” Yuuri shut his eyes tightly, rocking back into Viktor’s other hand, where it was maddeningly still curled calmly, just brushing the lower curve of his ass and not doing anything.
The hand on Yuuri’s side stroked lower, tracing electrifying swirls over skin, muscle and bone as it edged lower. Yuuri canted his hips forward, expecting to finally be touched, but Viktor pushed the languid, teasing stroke down the outside of his leg, instead of curving forward to Yuuri’s desperate need. The fingers caught the inside of his knee, buried into the hot press of flesh between his thigh and calf; pulling upwards. Yuuri let Viktor move him, however he wanted, whatever he wanted. “Please Viktor,” Yuuri mumbled into the pillow.
“Hush, pryanichek,” Viktor’s kisses were slow, gentle, infuriatingly hot and slow against his neck. Yuuri was dying, untouched. “It’s early…” Viktor’s voice was slow and sleepy as well, rolling edges of this accent smoothing the words. “This early… things should be taken slow... savored.”
Yuuri felt like at some point his blood must have been replaced with magma. He was so ready to be touched. “Fuck me,” Yuuri countered Viktor’s poetic thoughts with a gasping plea, eyes squinted shut against the explicit words.
Viktor’s tongue swept gently over the shell of Yuuri’s ear. His hum sounded like agreement but he didn’t change his gentle pace. He sucked lightly on the skin underneath Yuuri’s ear and his lips were so hot and perfect and so damn slow…
“So impatient…” Viktor commented, sounding delighted.
Yuuri moaned and turned his head deeper into the pillow. “So unfair!”
There was a soft laugh, it made his stomach flip, dizzy and weightless and cradled in this soft, unreal, dreamy bed, so turned on and so powerless against the weight of that desire. His cock leaked into the luxury sheets, even untouched as it was.
“How is this unfair, my katsudon?” Viktor’s words sparked fires under Yuuri’s skin; the teasing voice could promise release, or hours of exquisite torture.
Yuuri panted into the pillow for a moment, the pillows hopefully muffling the noise, his own breath hot and stifling as he tried to breath, tried to relax, tried to take back some measure of control. He twisted his face back up, gulping in the cool apartment air - heart still racing, embers still fueling wildfires where Viktor’s supple, strong body touched his own. “Unfair,” he repeated, taking longer than usual to string together something that would convey even part of what he meant in his second language, “because I wanted to put you in this state…” he looked for Viktor out of the corner of his eye, twisting back to try to look over his shoulder.
The fingers between them started to trace flickering, slippery patterns just under the curve of his ass, where his upper thigh met his rear. “Oh?” Viktor purred, sounding interested. “Tell me what you were thinking, hmm?”
Oh of course Viktor would ask that, Yuuri moaned and pulled the pillow over his head. This was all too much he could barely remember his name and he could barely find words at the best of times and now all he wanted was to touch and feel and lose himself by Viktor’s side again…
“Hmm?” Viktor crooned, pulling the pillow from Yuuri with inevitable force. “Come here,” he pulled Yuuri back into that tight hug, a warm, strong cocoon of a man wrapped around him. He tucked Yuuri against his body, making sure that Yuuri was over on his pillow, comfortable.
“Don’t even think about it, just tell me.”
An entirely different type of moan escape Yuuri’s through, the emotion unable to be contained in his chest as Viktor’s slippery fingers finally stopped playing with the tops of his thighs, finally crested and dipped into the cleft of his ass. They ran in shivery, wet trails; those slow torturous lines tracing along his perineum. Yuuri gasped and his hips etched helpless little arcs backwards and Viktor seemed to steadfastly refuse to linger where he wanted that touch so, so badly.
Oh. This would be one of those games. “I-I….” Yuuri scrambled to find the words. “I wanted to wake you up with a blow job…” he admitted, embarrassment burning through his desire.
Viktor was cruel. Yuuri could feel the smile against the back of his neck.
“Oh? After everything we did last night? Oh, Yuuri, you’re positively insatiable....” Yuuri felt his cock jerk at the way Viktor’s tongue rolled around his name.
Yuuri steadied himself with a shaky breath, eyes still shut tightly against the reality of his words. “I wanted to see you wake up… with me… like that… below you…”
Finally, finally, Viktor’s wrist steadied against him, fingertips tracing concentrated circles around his ass.
Bless Viktor. He didn’t seem to care that Yuuri’s stories were nowhere near as creative as the filthy ideas he seemed to have a surplus supply of, ready to dance out across his silver tongue at the slightest hint that Yuuri did - or especially did not - want to hear them. No, instead Viktor’s own breathing picked up, and he continued to kiss what he could reach; encouraging Yuuri with his lips and tongue on the back of his neck, nuzzling the lengthening raven hair out of his way with puffs of breath that hinted at his own state.
“I wanted to...aaaah,” Yuuri sank back into Viktor as he felt the tip of a finger finally enter him, slick with lube. His body remembered the activities from the night before; it was less tense than usual. Yuuri slowly let himself melt backwards into the sensation, humming distractedly with his pleasure. “I wanted to… see you come apart… beneath me…” his voice was rapidly going ragged, whispery and hoarse as he struggled to keep enough words together to keep his sentence coherent.
“Oooh….” Viktor’s purr was silk in Yuuri’s ear, and Yuuri let himself just enjoy the warmth, the stretch, as Viktor's finger pushed deeper, until he could feel Viktor’s other fingers bracketing his hole.
Viktor picked up a slow rhythm, the slide of his finger easy, teasing. When his other arm left the hug he’d been cradling Yuuri’s chest in, it dipped low on his stomach. Yuuri’s muscles started an involuntary contraction at the gentle touch. “Oh yes please yes…” Yuuri whispered, giving a little whimper as Viktor took ahold of his rigid cock - the caress of Viktor’s gentle fist was silken and warm and close to overwhelming him already.
And just like that he was trapped; torn between two amazing sensations. Viktor’s hand stroking up slowly, his finger pressing almost lazily into him. He wanted to buck forward, backwards, anything, speed this up, let himself go to completion.
“Oh oh...oh…” his voice nearly broke as Viktor smoothly slipped a second finger in, pressing gently at the ring of muscle. Yuuri was lost to the sensations, drifting hazily in happy, warm enjoyment, Viktor moving too easily with him when he tried to increase the speed, enforcing a languid pace. He was getting his serene morning after all.
“Yura, do you really want this? You’re still so open for me from last night… I don’t want to hurt you….”
Gentle words. Gentle, concerned words from Viktor. It took Yuuri a moment to reply, a terrifying moment of trying to decipher the English, to find the right words to respond with, a stomach flipping moment where Viktor’s hand stilled against him, a break in the waves of the pleasure. “Doesn’t hurt.” Yuuri reassured Viktor. “Want this.” He felt Viktor nuzzling against the hair that clung to his neck, damp with sweat. Viktor probably meant it to be calming, but Viktor was mistaken - Yuuri’s desire was running rampant, and any touch from Viktor was electrifying.
Yuuri went still in a moment of anxiety as the fingers left him empty, tilting his hips forward into the hand stroking along his length. “Hai, Viktor, onegai-” He pulled in a shaky breath “I can - mmmm…” he dissolved into a moan when instead of fingers, he felt the blunt head of Viktor’s cock press against his entrance. “Oh-hai…” languages spilled together as his mind short circuited, pleasure crashing through his synapses instead of thoughts.
Yuuri took into little sips of air, hardly daring to exhale and the pitch of the breaths rapidly increased. His hands spasmed into fists in the sheets.
Viktor’s lips pressed close to his ear. “Ti vaskhititelen,” he whispered in an achingly precise way, still so in control, so measured, absolutely the opposite of what Yuuri could manage. The tone of sweet affection and the way Viktor’s tongue rolled over the unfamiliar syllables surged together, competing to see which could undo Yuuri further.
Yuuri tried to manage a question in response, tried briefly to get a translation, but his questioning “Hmm?” was lost in the barrage of gasps and moans pulled from his throat. He stretched back into Viktor as he adjusted to the length pushing inside of him. The hand over his cock grew even more gentle, now just the hint of fingerpads against him, drawing soft wavering lines over and over before even that was gone, Viktor’s hand moving up to brace against his hip, pinning him motionless against the bed. There was no room for anything except the sensations inside his head.
Viktor’s slow press inwards seemed to take forever. Yuuri tilted his head back and mewled with pleasure when he felt Viktor’s hips finally press against the curve of his ass. Viktor shifted, pushing his lower arm between Yuuri and the bed, holding him tight in an intimate hug as Yuuri’s rapid breathing dissolved into longer exhales.
His mind –his heart– were soaring, weightless in the lightening skies above the warm bed, above the embrace of his love. “Oh,” Yuuri, said, all he could manage, trying to put even a fraction of the love and wonder and pleasure he felt into the only syllable he could form. “Oh.”
Yuuri’s inhales grew more steady as he adjusted, the slight pain of the stretch easing into pleasure. The breathing in his ear, on the other hand, was beginning to hitch slightly, Viktor growing slightly more unsteady, although none of that was transmitted through the fierce, unwavering embrace he held Yuuri in.
Usually Yuuri would be the one to make the first tentatively movements, setting an initial pace when Viktor topped. Yuuri hesitantly tried, unable to get much movements of his hips in this position, mostly still curled up in front of Viktor and afraid to move too much.
Apparently it was enough though. “How does that feel?” Viktor breathed, but underneath his sultry tone Yuuri could hear the signs that this was affecting him as well - the way the English words caught slightly, less fluid than usual, a deeper edge charging the words with the tension of anticipation.
“Perfect,” Yuuri whispered back without thinking, and he could feel Viktor’s soft chuckle thrum through his chest, as Viktor moved to slowly thread his fingers through Yuuri’s, entangling them further together. Viktor laughs when he’s happy, and Yuuri couldn’t stop smiling in response, especially when his blurry vision caught the first hints of pale morning light flashing on their rings.
It was perfect.
And then Viktor started moving and Yuuri had a brief to wonder if there was a superlative for perfect in English because oh, this was too good. It wasn’t a large movement, just a gentle rolling of the hips behind him, waves of movement that he could feel through the abdominals pressed against his lower back. The friction was amazing, movements languid and…
Perfect.
His mind couldn’t fill in any other word anymore.
Yuuri let out a long happy hum of contentment. Viktor echoed in kind, settling into an easy rhythm. His knees pushed into the backs of Yuuri’s with each gentle, slow, stroke. Unable to move much, Yuuri relaxed into the moment, his former frenzied desire plateauing in a rush of love for the man behind him making him feel so… cherished.
I love you. The words echoed every heartbeat, chased every kiss that Viktor planted on his neck and shoulder.
The undulations of Viktor’s hips were gathering more pauses, little breaks where he could hear Viktor’s breath catch and feel the racing heart pressed against his back. Yuuri moved slowly, unfurling his legs from his curled position, stretching out a bit more. He opened his hips gently, sliding his upper leg up and over Viktor’s, running his toes down Viktor’s calf until he could hook his toes there, gaining a bit of leverage.
The warmth and perception of love around him let Yuuri make himself vulnerable, splay out a bit like this. Shyness still brought a blush to his cheeks, but like this, where he doesn’t have to face Viktor’s expression it’s also easier to be bold. He took their linked hands, skimming down the front of his body slowly. Viktor’s rhythm falters completely, and Yuuri is glad his smile is hidden, as Viktor pants into the nape of his neck, trying to regain control.
Yuuri doesn’t linger long though, tracing a direct path low to the need that throbbed between his legs. “I want to come with you,” he whispered to the air in front of him, knowing that Viktor was already close, knowing that this would be a challenge for them both. He hesitated a moment, spreading his fingers to let Viktor pull his hand free, to let Yuuri touch himself. He wrapped his familiar hand around his straining erection. Viktor’s hand immediately caressed forward again, wrapping around Yuuri’s lightly. With a few strokes it was clear that Viktor meant to follow here, not lead.
Yuuri could feel the heat of embarrassment creep up to his ears. He stroked steadily upwards, pausing at the head of his cock, using his thumb to tease the crown, sweeping through an almost shameful amount of precum. Viktor’s fingers ghosted over his own, tracing the pattern he took, pressing into the rhythms. He had no doubt that Viktor’s sharp mind was memorizing this choreography too; learning this routine in a way that Yuuri was sure he’d pay sweetly for in the future. That train of thought sent him closer to the point of no return.
Viktor’s hand suddenly tightened over his own, and Yuuri made a soft gasp at the sudden increase in pressure, taking it as a cue to speed up his strokes. He felt the soft slide of silver hair against his neck as Viktor twisted and went rigid, leaning forward behind him, a small distance forced between their bodies for the first time since this started.
“Oh,” Yuuri moaned, feeling the pulsing sensation through the tight ring of muscles wrapped around Viktor’s cock. Viktor rocked forward a few times, and Yuuri played with tensing around Viktor’s cock in answer to those faint pulses, feeling dizzy and powerful at the noises Viktor made in response. Each stroke of Yuuri’s hand was bringing him closer to meet Viktor there. He braced his toes upwards against Viktor’s calf, pressing his chest forward as he started to tense. Viktor pulled in a few long breaths at his back, and giving up on following the faster rhythm Yuuri’s hand was taking, fell down to trace swirling lines across his balls, warm fingers teasing them as they pulled up against his body. The combination of Viktor’s gentle, soft touches and his rapid palm rocketed Yuuri towards that cliff. His whole body began to contract and he moaned as he ratcheted upwards, higher and higher before he spilled over that orgasmic cliff, falling through stars as he collapsed back onto the bed, seed shooting hot and warm into the sheets.
It was moments before he was even aware that his pounding heart was still inside a body. His senses glowed, the world blazing hotter than should have been possible in the cool Russian dawn. Somewhere distant, Viktor was moving, Yuuri could hear the faint wet snap of the condom as Viktor dealt with the aftermath. He was still spinning, drunk on ecstasy, his body boneless and melting into the pillows as his heartbeat slowed. He was aware of Viktor returning, lying down again on his back, arms pulling Yuuri up almost on top of him. Vaguely Yuuri realized that took him away from the wet streaks through the sheets.
He turned and looked up at Viktor. His slightly blurred features were etched with silver light from the low morning sun, ocean-blue eyes standing out brilliantly. The dawn had broken as a paler shades of greys and blues, low winter angles lighting the gigantic, soft expanse of bed seem lit from the side. Yuuri looked down, and enchanted by the light across their bodies, and traced the line between shadow and sunlight tattooed over Viktor’s arm.
“So?” Viktor asked a question with lips against Yuuri’s hair, placing kisses in the messy dark waves. “Have I convinced you to like mornings?”
Viktor sounded entirely too clear, too bright. Yuuri’s world was still a fuzzy blend of glasses-free blur and post-orgasmic haze. Yuuri sleepily leaned back against Viktor, spent and too blissfully happy to direct complaints against Viktor’s cheerfulness. “You can probably convince me to like anything if you persuade me like that…” he murmured honestly, pushing his fingers through Viktor's and holding them close to his chest, against his heart.
Viktor hummed a contented agreement. “We can test that,” he promised. He pulled Yuuri closer.
Despite the sheen of sweat that still clung to him, despite the feverishly warm touch of Viktor along his side, Yuuri felt a shiver run down his spine.
His fiance was going to be the death of him. |
~!~
Sally tried to quiet her nervous stomach but nothing worked until she felt his hand squeeze hers. She looked up at him and returned his smile. His mother was cold on their introduction but his aunt and uncle were very welcoming. As the night continued and he introduced her to several of his associates, she relaxed. So far no one recognized her.
~!~
Debora Monsello looked simply beautiful in her ivory Valentino gown. She was the perfect widower, greeting Antonio's and Henry's friends as they arrived. Storm also greeted the guests but with Sally by his side. Debora took keen interest in this, noticing how nervous Sally was, and wondered how Storm could bring someone who was so obviously out of place to such an event. Even more shocking to her, was hearing him introducing her as his girlfriend; someone he was actually in a relationship with.
she fumed silently.
Brad and Mike arrived and Debora looked on with disdain. She silently prayed that he would now improve his friends now that he would be taking over the firm. She found the ones he had now completely unacceptable, with Brad being the one she was most disappointed with. His new status required him to do so. She made a mental note to speak with some of his father's longtime associates.
In many ways Storm was just like Antonio. Antonio had made a non-Italian Storm's godfather and had an outside child with a woman who was not Italian. Like his father, Storm dated women from other cultures including an African girl for more than a year while in college. She had been ecstatic when that relationship ended.
Debora hated that Antonio was so accepting of other cultures. He made both children learn about each other's culture, especially Storm, who spent time on the Native American Reservation with Ayasha during some summer and winter months. Deborah had felt that since Ayasha was an outside child and not full Italian, she should have been excluded but Antonio and Storm took her everywhere and included her into everything. If there was one thing she could have been happy for was that Ayasha wasn't as dark as her mother had been.
Looking at Sally and the way he was holding her hand, Debora could not understand why after dating so many different women, he still insisted on such random dating? He should be thinking about settling down with the right Italian woman.
Debora thought as she smiled, knowing the arrangements she had made for the night. But as she watched how he looked at Sally, fear crept into her heart and made it beat a bit faster. Storm looked at this girl the way his father used to look at the picture of Ayasha's mother.
~!~
Audrey looked on as Storm whispered something to Sally. Sally laughed and turned her face to his chest. His hand cupped the back of her head and he kissed her, intimately.
Audrey drained her glass of champagne and reached for another as the waiter passed by. She and her mother were invited by Storm's mother and even thought Storm ignored her, all kept their eyes on him, watching his every move. Her mother had whispered to Audrey about Storm's surprising behavior towards them all night. She had hoped Storm would want to be by her side, especially when he saw her in the dress she had picked out just to impress him.
Ayasha, Colin, Brad and Mike were all in a group speaking with Storm and his date. Audrey looked on, wondering if there would ever be a time when she would be included in that circle. When would Ayasha accept her instead of treating her like a low-class outcast? She was wealthy and they were from the same social class so why did Ayasha treat her as if she was a gold-digger from the streets Audrey wondered. Getting angry, she took her glass of wine and walked by the group, hoping Storm would notice her and invite her in. But when Audrey walked by she heard Storm introduce Sally to someone as his girlfriend.
She walked away from the group angry.
~!~
Sally looked around as she left the bathroom to make sure she was going the right way. She was enjoying herself simply because no one had recognized her so far.
"You fucking slut. You're nothing but a fucking low life gold digger. He'll soon rea..." Audrey said behind Sally.
Sally turned to her startled but recovered almost instantly. "Good night Audrey," and kept on walking.
"Don't you walk away from me you bitch. He'll come back to me. He wants me not some black whore he'll get tired of soon."
"He doesn't want me but he asked me, the black whore to be his girlfriend..."
"He took you shopping and you think that makes you his girlfriend? Do you really think you're the first girl he's taken shopping? That's a norm for him. You think you're the first girl he's taken to a fancy restaurant? He's going to get tired of you..."
Sally tilted her head to the side as if contemplating something. "He never did that for you, did he? That's why you're pissed, that he may have done that for me but not for you, because he saw right through you. He knew you were only after his money."
"I have money. I'm of his social class. I'm not some low life slut gold-digger like you..."
"Yes, you may have money but not as much as him..."
"I'm not the gold-digger here trying to worm my..."
"You think his money means something to me? I don't need it. I've managed perfectly fine without so far and I'll continue to do so," Sally snapped back losing her temper.
"I've seen your type before..."
"Leave me alone Audrey. I know you and he were not a couple, he told me..."
Audrey visibly turned a nasty shade of red, "We were a couple. His mind was poisoned against me by his bitch sister and she'll do the same to you. What the two of you don't know is that he calls me all the time. He called me and told me he wanted to still see me..."
"Fine Audrey, he calls you, now leave me alone," Sally said as she turned to walk away.
"You don't believe me? Fine have it your way when he leaves you..."
"Sally there you are. I've been looking for you," Storm said coming towards both women.
Sally turned to him and gave him a tentative smile. "I was using the restroom."
Audrey turned to him, "What are you doing? Do you know how bringing her here has upset your mother? Do you know what people are saying about you and her? You're putting your reputation in jeopardy. Don't you care what people are saying?"
"No, I don't and if someone has something to say, they can say it to me directly."
"Why are you doing this? Being with her is going to ruin your reputation. I'm better for you. You and I look good together. I suit you better..."
"Audrey let's settle this now. We slept together but it was never a relationship or going to be. I'm sorry if you mis-understood the nature of us being together the only two unfortunate times we were, however, I will not submit to your deliberate attempts at twisting the situation into something it was not or ever going to be. Thank you for attending. Please excuse my girlfriend and me."
"Storm! Storm!" Audrey called out to him but he kept walking, holding Sally's hand.
~!~
Storm pulled Sally into his arms as soon as he closed the door.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked after kissing her.
"Yes, I did. Thank you for inviting me."
"Thank you for attending. I enjoyed having you there."
This time, she made the first move and kissed him. Gently at first she licked at his lips and slowly moved her tongue beyond the barrier of his lips to seek his. When she felt his tongue, she softly licked it, coaxing it out of his mouth and into hers so she could suck on it gently. She moved her head to the side to deepen the kiss and hear him moan his approval. His hands were on the back of her dress pulling the zipper down and she wrapped her arms around his neck tighter.
She walked to the bedroom and he followed, pulling his bow tie and removing this cufflinks in the process. He stood at the bedroom door and watched as she pushed the dress off her shoulders, past her waist and over her hips to pool at her feet. He walked to her as she stepped out of it and smiled. He was simply gorgeous, she thought and slowly began pulling the buttons of his shirt one by one until it lay open and pulled from his pants. After pushing the shirt from his body, she reached for his belt, unbuckled it and undid the zipper to his pants. Her hands moved up and over his body, getting reacquainted with the feel of his muscles and texture of his smooth skin.
He kept his arms at his sides allowing and enjoying her exploration. He watched her hands moved over his chest and felt his muscles come alive where she touched. She kissed his chest softly and he closed his eyes savoring the feel of her lips on his skin. She stretched up on her toes to kiss his neck and he pulled her into him tightly. Her fingers interlocked into his hair at the back of his neck as she pulled him down to her meet her lips. She slowly kissed him trying to mimic the way he kisses her. Her tongue moves across the barrier of his lips easily as he allows her to take the lead.
Sally licks at his tongue slowly, tasting him as she deepened the kiss and allowed her confidence to grow. She heard him moan and swallowed down the sound, encouraged to explore the freedom of her actions. Sally pulled back and looked at him as she unhooked her bra letting it fall to the floor. Her panties followed next, she hooked her thumbs in the sides and slowly pushed them from her hips. Taking his hand, she pulled him to stand by the bed as she pushed his boxer briefs down his legs.
"Sit please," she asked softly and he obliged.
She took off his sock and stood in front of him, apprehensive and Storm pulled her to him and kissed her as he pulled her on the bed. She pushed him on his back and straddled his body. Kissing him again, she felt his hands caress her back before burying themselves in her hair. Her lips moved along his jaw, down his neck, and over his chest to a hard nipple. She licked and sucked the hard pebble into is mouth, and he moaned with the pleasure.
"Hmm...babe, Sally."
Her hand traveled over his stomach slowly with skimming touches that made Storm moaned, his head going to one side. Her hand moved by his hard member, but not touching and Storm felt himself move to try and make contact with her hand. Fingertips gently move over his smooth skin to this thigh as her lips trailed down his taunt stomach. Her hand traveled back up and gently wrapped around his hard member. She looked up at him and saw this eyes which looked like the deepest depths of lust. He breathe out a bit harshly and she smiled.
"Sally..." Storm called out, unsure of how much more he could take.
She rolled the condom on him and he moaned out of disappointment. He wanted to feel her. She looked up at him hesitantly; wanting reassurance.
He pulled her to him and whispered, "Ride me babe," before kissing her deeply. She aligned herself with him and looked down. "No look at me," he whispered harshly, and she did.
She lowered herself inch by blissful inch. He stretched her again and the feeling was so intense she disobeyed him and closed her eyes. When she opened her eyes again it was to see his hooded look, as his fingers dug into her hips. She began to move, guided by his hands, slowing pushing herself up until only the very tip of him remained inside her before sitting back down on him every so slowly. Again her eyes closed at the pleasure that flowed through her. She saw his breath hitch and she did it again, grounding her hips on him. She moved in sensual waves on him, pushing them both to paradise. Stretching over him, he reached up to meet her as he joined their lips together. The kiss was as sensual as the movements of their bodies. Storm spread his legs a bit wider which caused her ass to bounce on his legs. She sucked on his nipples again, making him moan deep in his chest at the feeling of her lips on his skin, and being buried so deeply inside her. They both sat up and he kneaded her breast before sucking on each.
"You are so beautiful."
Sally moaned as he kept at her breast and she kissed him harder than before. His hand moved down her body and held her ass.
She breathe deeply as the feeling got more intense. "Storm," she called out to him.
"Sally you feel amazing."
She continued to move on him at the same steady speed, every move bringing them both one step closer to pinnacle they both sought. Her breath became shorter, his became harder. She kept the same pace even as her nails dug into the skin of his chest and released. She felt his grip on her waist tighten and her head went back,
"Look at me Sally, look at me!" he commanded.
And she obeyed, as best she could. Her walls contracted, over and over and over, like the aftershocks of an earthquake. Her head when back and her eyes shut, blinded by the light behind her lids. His grip on her hips held her down forcefully as he pushed inside her, floating on the same wave of ecstasy she was on.
Sally rolled her head forward and opened her eyes. The look of pure bliss and exhaustion etched on her face. Her breaths were raspy and when her eyes met Storm's she read contentment in his. She bent down to gently kiss him before settling herself on his chest. His arm enveloped her and Sally smiled, glad she had made the decision to be with him. However short it was, she was going to enjoy her time with him.
~!~
Storm was in the garage getting some things together when he turned around and saw Sally standing at the door. She was barefooted and looking very sexy in his shirt from the night before. Her hair was in disarray giving her the perfect bedroom hair.
"Good morning. You didn't wake me," Sally said as he looked at her.
"Good afternoon, no I didn't," he said pulling her into his arms. "There was no need. How do you feel?"
"Okay, why?"
"We've been invited to a barbeque." She looked indecisive. "It's at Yashy's and she's not going to take 'no' for your answer. You'll have fun, I promise."
"I can't," and at the puzzled look on his face, she continued. "I have the interview for my internship tomorrow and I didn't know Tricks went out of town so I can't get the car, I have to ride my bike..."
"Wait, you got the interview for your internship? When did you find out?"
"Friday."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Well yesterday was your family's night and well, it's only the interview."
"Sally, it's not only the interview, you're getting this internship. They won't let someone as good as you slip through their fingers. Don't sell yourself short. And you still should have told me, no matter how busy you think I am. I'll make time for you."
"You don't have to do that. I can take care of myself."
"Sally, we're a couple now. We're not by ourselves anymore." He kissed her. "Go get ready. I'll be in shortly. I have to put this stuff in the car."
~!~
"Sally you came. I'm so happy," Ayasha greeted as she hugged Sally.
"Thank you for having me," Sally replied.
"Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?" Storm asked Ayasha kissing her on the cheek.
"The chicken and steaks are on the grill and some of the guys are out back."
"Why didn't you order this made?" Storm asked.
"Because she's stubborn," Iris said coming into the kitchen.
"No, I'm not. It's not a barbeque if you get it sent in," Ayasha replied to Iris's comment.
"Yes it would be but you just have to have everything your way. You're not doing all the cooking today Yasha, I mean it," Colin stated. "Storm can you help me get the beer from the garage?"
"I agree Yashy, you're resting today," Storm said.
"Well you guys can't cook and I'm not eating burnt food."
"It's not up for debate. You're not doing the cooking," Colin stated in finality.
"Hi Sally, how are you doing? How did you enjoy the partly last night?" Iris asked.
"Hi, it was nice," Sally replied.
"And how did you like Debora, Storm's mother?" Iris asked.
"She's nice," Sally replied hesitantly.
Ayasha laughed, "She got a barrage of dirty looks for both her and Audrey. If looks could kill, she would be dead the first two minutes of being there," Ayasha said to Iris.
"Really now do tell," said Iris.
"That's not all you missed but what I want to know is how that argument between you and Audrey got started?" Ayasha asked Sally.
"You got into an argument with Audrey?" Iris asked.
"It was nothing," Sally said feeling uncomfortable.
"Oh yes it was. She attached you but I didn't hear all of it. I'm also curious about what Storm said to her," Ayasha said looking at Sally.
"He explained the situation to her," Sally answered.
"What did he see in her? He is much too handsome to be desperate for pussy and that's what she is, a desperate fuck," Iris said.
"Please don't remind me. Please, please don't remind me."
"Excuse me, where's your bathroom?" Sally asked.
"Oh, down the hall on your right," Ayasha replied.
As soon as Sally was out of hearing range, "You should have seen Deb doing everything she could to push that slut on Storm. The bitch even placed her next to Storm for dinner, but my very smart brother," Ayasha said proudly, "had the dinning arrangements changed, and put the succubus and it's so called mother, at the back of the room," Ayasha said laughing.
"You're kidding!"
"No, it was so funny. The look on their face was priceless."
"You know she's not going to want to see her precious baby with someone who's not Italian," Iris said.
"That slut's not Italian and Dad wouldn't approve."
"But she is white," said Iris.
"Dad's family has a strict rule against white trash," replied Ayasha.
"I'm glad you like me but then again, I don't like white trash either," said Iris. "You know she's going to put up a stink about Sally. There's no way she's going to accept her."
"Well Storm's with her."
"Did you hear the argument?"
"No not all of it but I did hear when she told Sally that she was with Storm for the clothes that he buys her and called her a bitch."
"She should talk. The only thing that gold-digger was interested in was his bank account and how much of it she could spend. But speaking of that, do we know anything about Sally?"
"She's educated at least more than Audrey, but then again Audrey's education is by being spit roasted or on her knees."
"Did Storm hear her?"
"I don't think he did," replied Ayasha.
"Not to worry sis, I heard now," Storm replied from the door, and both women turned around to face him shocked.
When he turned away, it was to see Sally standing in the door way from the hallway. She stared at him before looking at Ayasha and Iris.
Storm walked over to Sally, "Come with me," and he took her elbow and moved with her down the hall to a bedroom.
"Storm, I think I should go," Sally said as soon as he closed the door.
"No...you're going to tell me everything Audrey said to you last night."
"She didn't say any..."
"Don't lie to me. I heard her tell you that I called her, and you know it's not true but what else did she say to you?"
"Only that."
Storm smirked and rolled his eyes. He took a deep breath and released it. Speaking slowly and distinctively he asked, "Do you want me to call Ayasha in here and ask her to tell me every single thing she heard?" Sally visibly swallowed trying to get the lump in her throat down. "Or do you want to tell me yourself, now."
"She told me I was a gold digger and that I was after your money and that you still..." she looked away but Storm turned her back to look at him.
"Continue," he urged.
"That you still wanted her," Sally said softly.
"Do you believe her?"
"It doesn't..."
"If you say it doesn't matter, I'm going to take it that you're not serious about being with me and that you're just using me. Now answer me, do you believe her?"
"I don't know."
"What is your mind telling you?"
But Sally answered with her heart instead, "That I shouldn't believe her. That she's angry she's not with you."
"You're afraid of listening to your heart aren't you?"
Sally looked up at him shocked, "How did you..."
"You're too logical not to think with you mind. That answer came from your heart because you want this as much as I do. Do you believe her?"
Then after a while, "No, I don't."
"Why not?" he asked. He wanted to hear what she was thinking.
"Because she got into a similar argument with Ayasha that time when I house sat for you."
He held her face and brought her in for a sensual kiss. She smiled but looked away when he ended the kiss.
"What is it?" Storm asked
"I...can you do something for me please?"
"What?"
"I'm not comfortable with you buying me clothes..."
"Sally sometimes I attend parties like the one we attended yesterday and I would never want to put that type of expense on you considering that you are a working student. I think it's only appropriate that I stand the bill for expenses that you would incur because of such events."
"I would rather pay for my expenses myself and if I can't afford it, I'll just not attend. I'm not comfortable Storm. Please try and understand."
"Okay, for you but only if you promise that if you need anything that is over your budget then you'll let me so I can get it for you."
"Storm I..."
"No that's the only way. You tell me and we agree to the purchase together."
"Okay."
"Good."
~!~
Storm was playing football with the guys as Sally watched him through a window in the kitchen. She should have been cutting the carrots, but watching Storm play, his muscles contacting and relaxing, was just too distracting. His skin glistened in the sunlight, wet with sweat which was also dripping from his hair. He got tackled to the ground but got up quickly, breathing heavily, his chest expanding with each breath. She stared at his powerful legs which supported his six foot three frame and memories of how they held her up as he thrust into her repeatedly came flooding back. He gave Brad a high five and his sinewy muscles made her think of safety. Once again she felt fear.
"You look like you want to rape him," Ayasha said softly behind her and laughed when Sally jumped and blushed. Ayasha took a plate to the patio and yelled, "Come and get it!"
Sally and Iris each followed with a platter in each hand. Storm came over to Sally and kissed her on the neck.
"Ewwwhh. You're sweaty," Sally complained softly.
"Normally you don't mind," Storm whispered and laughed when she blushed. When Sally turned away, Storm pulled her back to him and kissed her fully on the lips. The kiss went on for a bit before Colin interrupted.
"Okay, we get it, you're in love. Can we eat now?"
Everyone but Sally laughed. They sat and Storm helped to prepare her plate. Ayasha smiled happily. Her brother was very happy. Sally smiled shyly, trying to feel comfortable with what Colin said. Daily she was losing the battle against the spell Storm wove, inviting and tempting her to trust him.
~!~
|
My apology for the late reply. I have a new job and I finally finished the chapter where Storm finds out about Sally. Thanks for waiting. Have a wonderful and safe holiday!
The blocked number showed on her phone before it went dead. The call came through again and again she did not pick up. On the third call, she accepted the call but said nothing.
"No. Were they looking for something specific?" asked the person who answered.
"No one can find out about the money. Her life would be in danger if they do?"
"Can she trust Storm?"
"Good. I'll let you know if anything suspicious triggers on this end,"
"Someone is looking into your records," said the woman on the phone.
"Do you know who and why?" Sally asked.
"No but I'll find out what I can. Have you met anyone new recently?"
"Yes, a guy by the name of Mitch Brookman. He's my study partner and he's in my class. I sometime give him a ride home from lab."
"You should have told me about him. Stay away until I have him checked out."
"Thanks but it seems strange that someone is looking into me after all these years. The time seems a bit suspicious."
"Yes, I understand. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about but I think it best to err on the side of caution."
"Yes, I agree. Thank you. Please let me know what you find."
"You are almost there. Just a few more months and you won't have to hide anymore."
"I don't think there'll ever be a day when that doesn't happen. Thanks for your help and the heads up. I will let you know if anything suspicious happens."
"Good."
"Hey how is the relationship between Sally and Rhonda," Mike asked.
"Don't know if they've spoken since that night. Why?" Storm replied.
"I need to find out if Sally knew where Rhonda was yesterday night. There was another robbery. The house was cleaned by her and Katie a two weeks prior."
"Do you think it's a coincidence?"
"No, I don't. I think both Rhonda and Katie are robbing the houses. I just don't think they are doing it by themselves. Someone else is helping them. "
"I'll ask Sally when I see her tonight."
"Thanks man, I appreciate it. We'll catch up soon."
"Yeah."
"Hey what are you doing for dinner?" Storm asked Sally.
"I'm having it right now, well so to speak, why?" Sally replied.
"Oh, I wanted to have dinner with you tonight."
Suddenly Storm heard, "Mitch, do you want to sit outside? It's not too hot."
"Who's that? Who's Mitch?" Storm asked.
"Oh my co-worker. Hey do you mind if we speak later? We're getting something to eat while we go over some lab work and notes." Sally took her bottle of water and walked to the table. "Thanks Mitch," she said to her friend before returning to the call, "Storm?"
"Yes, you're having dinner and studying? Why don't you take the break and just have dinner with me? I'll get you back in time."
"Sorry Storm, I can't, not tonight. I'll try and stop by after work, okay?"
"How late are you working until?"
"Not sure but I'll send you a text. Hey I have to go. Talk with you later."
"Call me when you get home tonight."
"Will do."
As Storm drove home, he thought about Mitch. Who was he? Where did he come from? Storm was experiencing another emotion he was unfamiliar with, 'jealousy'. He was jealous that another man was spending more time with his girlfriend than him. He was jealous that he was getting to know her better...working, having dinner, sharing jokes, all the things he should be doing but couldn't. He wanted her to have a successful career. He wanted her to complete her degree with honors. He was going to be there at her graduation to claim her to everyone. But with each mile of road his tires covered, his jealously was making it more and more difficult to see straight.
"Hi, how are you doing?" Sally asked Rhonda when she answered the call.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Are you still sleeping?"
"Yeah, I got in not too long ago. What's up?"
"Haven't seen or spoken with you in a while so just wanted to see how you're doing."
"Tired."
"Okay," Sally hesitated, "do you want to meet-up and have lunch sometime?"
"Yeah sure, just tell me when. I'm going back to bed. Later."
"Yeah, sure...bye."
As Sally ended the call, she thought again about what Storm said about her and Rhonda. Could Katie really be jealous of her? To her, the thought was preposterous. To be jealous of someone, you have to want better for yourself and willing to work for it, not Katie. She believed the only way to get something was to steal it just like what she did so many years go.
"No, I have homework to do." Sally replied.
"What are you a teacher's pet? You don't really think they care if you do the work or not right? It's not like they can fail you," Katie replied.
"Yes they can and I don't want to fail any of my classes. Thanks but I'm going to finish this."
"Come on Sally. You always stay home doing homework. When was the last time you went anywhere with me? Please we won't be long, just gonna look at some stuff."
Sally hesitated. She really wasn't a fan of Rhonda's new friend Katie and didn't want to be anywhere near her. Something about the girl made Sally weary. She had 'shifty eyes' or so the old folks back home would say. But Rhonda was her friend, her only friend. "Okay but I can't stay out long."
"We won't. Don't want to hear that hag's mouth."
"That was rude Rhonda, she's our guardian."
"She don't give a shit about me. She only cares about the money she gets from the state for us."
"That's not true. She gives you most of the money she gets as allowance."
"How you know that?" Rhonda asked.
"Yeah how do you know that?" Katie asked also.
Sally wanted to slap Katie for butting in but she was wrong for saying anything about the allowance. "Just makes sense. I don't think they give her much."
Sally knew it wasn't much. She'd heard Mrs. Chin give the social worker a verbal breakdown of her budget. Most of what she received for Rhonda, she gave to her as incentive to stay in school and attend classes. Only problem was it wasn't working. The social worker was there because of Rhonda had too many days missing from school. The skipping Sally felt was connected to Rhonda's newly found friend, Katie.
"Yeah well it's my money, I should get it all," Rhonda said.
Katie laughed, "I agree. Let's go. You coming?" she asked Sally.
"Yeah, I'll come."
While at the mall, they went to several stores. Sally followed behind not paying too much attention until one of the last store they went into, the attendant told Rhonda and Katie their bags were not allowed in the dressing room. It was then that Sally noticed that both Rhonda and Katie's bag looked at bit full from when they entered the mall. But before Sally could put the pieces together, Rhonda was yelling at her to run. She was grabbed by the store attendant and taken to security.
It was a few days later after the police came to the house for Rhonda that she was told by Mrs. Chin that her name was never mentioned and that Rhonda was going to do community service. She was happy that they knew she had nothing to do with the 'Rhonda and Katie' shoplifting spree. After all she had been honest with the security guard, providing all the information they asked for.
Rhonda was upset with her that she gave them their information and wouldn't speak with her for long while. Instead Rhonda got closer to Katie while Sally made it a duty to stay away. She also never went back to the mall, thinking she was forever branded a thief by all the stores there. Sally knew it was Katie's idea because she laughed about how silly Sally was standing there getting caught for a crime she didn't commit. Sally wanted to take the chance and beat her to a pulp. At least it was something she would have done to deserve a criminal record. Rhonda on the other hand, thought it was great that she was only given community service. In Rhonda's eyes, she and Katie were friends but Sally couldn't shake the feeling that all Katie saw in Rhonda was a puppet.
"Mr. Monsello, this is George from security and I have a Sally MacDonald here to see you."
"What? Send her up now please. Thanks George."
Storm was surprised. He and Sally had only spoken over the phone a few times last week. Each time he wanted to visit her apartment, she was exhausted from studying and working. He knew the first major test since beginning her internship was in a few days, and he wanted her to do well.
Meeting her at the elevator door, he drank in his fill of her. He couldn't believe he missed her this much. "This is a pleasant surprise."
"Am I disturbing you? I tried calling but it went to voicemail."
"Dara is out for the day and I was in a meeting earlier. What are you doing here?" he asked closing this office door behind them.
"We haven't been able to spend any time together so I wanted to see if you were available for lunch. I know you're busy but I was hoping..."
"I'm happy you're here. I was on my way to get a sandwich for lunch. What did you bring me?" Storm asked noticing the bag in her had.
"A sandwich," Sally smiled, "it was all I could think of on such short notice."
"It's perfect."
They both sat and unwrapped their sandwiches, smiling happily at each other, and relishing the moment.
Storm took a bite from his sub, "Mhhhh...you remembered. This is what I was going to get. Thank you." Sally smiled as best she could with her mouth filled with the bite from her sub. "So how's the internship going? You seem to be very busy; so busy that I can't seem to spend any time with you."
"Yeah, I am busy. It's a lot to remember and do. From the classifications to the procedures, and writing up the reports, logging the result, and then there's always the rush ones, and the precautions...it's just seems like it's everything at once. And trying not make a mistake so you don't get a bad report is difficult. It's not like school where I could retake a lab on another day if I messed up. This is now and most of the time, there are no do overs." She half laughed, "I want to sleep...it's okay," she said looking at him.
"Can you come over tonight?" Storm asked noticing for the first time how really tired she was.
"No can't. We have training seminars tomorrow and I have a bunch of things to review..."
"When can you? And I ask because I want you to rest, no interruptions."
"I'll let you know."
"Hey what do I owe this surprise?" Storm asked Ayasha as she entered his office with lunch.
"I haven't seen you in a long time. I know you're busy with the company but you still are my brother and I worry about you."
"You don't have to do that. You have a baby on the way to worry about now. How is my niece or nephew?"
"Doing well," Ayasha said as she sat and began taking the food out of the bags.
"Fantastic! What am I getting, a niece or nephew?"
"Don't know. Collin and I decided to be surprised. Do you mind?"
"No, you know I'll love either one."
"Yes, Uncle Storm you will."
"No, that doesn't sound right, Uncle Storm...no, just Storm will do fine."
"Absolutely not, it's either Uncle Storm or Uncle Tony, you choose but you're uncle."
"Buy Yashy that just doesn't sound cool enough."
"Be a cool as you want to as long as you change diapers."
"Nope, no can do. Cool uncles do not change diapers. That's why you have nannies. I'm going to be too busy being the awesome uncle."
"That's your excuse? You're going to be the cool uncle? It's useless arguing with you. New topic, how's Sally?"
"She's fine. She stopped by a few days ago."
"What do you mean she stopped by a few days ago? Aren't you two still together?"
"Yes we are but her internship is taking up much of her time. I don't get to see her as often as I used to."
"You don't seem very pleased about it."
"No, I'm not but what can I do. This is for her degree."
"Are you jealous?"
"I miss her."
"I'm sure she misses a big bacteria like you also. I'm happy for you."
"Why?"
"Because you care, if you didn't you wouldn't miss her."
"Eat your lunch; you're starving my niece or nephew."
But as Storm ate his lunch, he thought about what Ayasha said. Yes, he did care about Sally. When she came by for lunch, he realized he didn't know much about what she was going through, only he didn't know how to rectify that situation. Her place was much too small for the both of them and he had a feeling she wasn't going to let me move in there. It didn't stop him from wanting to be with her daily. It was a problem he had to find a solution since he had almost a year more of this to survive.
He was going to surprise Sally by spending the night at her place. He couldn't wait to see her face but as Storm pulled into his drive way he noticed her car was there. 'She's here, YES!' his mind shouted joyously. Getting out he quickly hurried inside.
"Sally, Sally," he called out but received no reply.
On the stove in the kitchen was a pot of boiling water. The pasta sauce was still warm but the box of pasta was unopened on the counter.
"Sally, Sally," he called out again but again received no reply.
Making his way into his bedroom, he saw her curled on her side away from him on the bed. She was wearing white shorts and tank top. Kicking off his shoes, he spooned himself behind her and pulled her into his arms.
He kissed her neck gently twice. "Sweetheart," he said softy and she responded with a moan. "Sally, Sally," and this time she opened her eyes barely.
He saw her struggle to keep them open but she smiled, "Hey."
"Are you okay?"
"Mmhhh..." and her eyes closed again. After a minute she tried opening them again but sleep was too overwhelming.
"Sleep..." he said and she smiled before doing as he said.
It was almost 8:30pm when Storm's phone rang. "Hey sis, what's up?"
"I just wanted to know if you had dinner. I thought you would have come by."
"Yeah, I ate some left overs."
"Okay, well come by tomorrow."
"Will do, goodnight."
He was going to watch TV or at least that was his intention. After all Sally was in his bedroom sleeping just like he wanted. But for the life of him, he didn't want to be away from her. He thought about watching in bed but didn't want to take the chance and disturb her. She had not moved much from the position he found her in which told him she was exhausted.
He decided on reading. Putting the case file on his bed side table, he looked at Sally again and smiled, remembering how it felt to pull into his driveway and see her car there. Coming in and finding that she was planning on preparing dinner for them both but was just too exhausted to finish, make him seriously think about getting a chef to prepare dinner for them both daily. It would be great coming home to a home cooked meal instead of always getting one from Yashy and or eating with Brad at the restaurant. Storm thought about it. Would having a chef make Sally come by more often?
Just as he was about to get into bed, Sally's phone rang. He quickly reached over her to get it from her bedside table and answered it.
"Hello," Storm said to the name he saw on the caller ID. His hands clenched the phone as he heard the voice respond.
"Oh I'm sorry I must have the wrong number?" Mitch replied.
"Are you looking for Sally?"
"Ah...yes, is she there?"
"Yes, but she is sleeping. Do you want to leave a message?"
"Is this her boyfriend? "
"Yes, it is and you are?"
"Oh I'm Mitch, her co-worker and study partner. Sally was thinking that we should go back to the lab tonight, and study up some more on the sides but I guess she was a lot more tired than she thought. Just tell her I called but don't wake her. I'm going to get some rest myself."
"I will let her know you called."
"Thanks man, good night."
"Goodnight."
Storm thought about Mitch. He didn't seem so bad. But he didn't like that they were studying together. He had to meet this Mitch person if he was going to be around Sally. Having her phone in his hands, curiosity got the better of him. He clicked on her phone log to see if she had called Rhonda. She had but the conversation had only been about two minutes long. There was a call that was a few minutes long but he dismissed that as a telemarketer call since the number was out of state. Her text messages revealed nothing of importance. There was one to Rhonda asking her how she was doing but the most were to both him and Mitch. She telling him she was busy studying and her and Mitch texting back and forth about work, studying or what to have to eat.
"Good morning," Storm said as he hugged Sally from behind in the bathroom.
"Good morning," she replied turning around in his arms. "I'm sorry but I have to run. I'm late already."
"Did you have breakfast as of yet?"
"No, I'll grab a banana or something of the sort. Sorry about dinner last night. I'll make it up to you."
"Yes you will. Are you off this weekend?"
"Yes, I am," Sally replied smiling.
"Good then you are spending it with me, only me, all of it. No interruptions, going out, nothing. We're not even going to go out for dinner. I'm having everything delivered."
"Why don't we just cook dinner?"
"Well do whatever you want as long as you don't leave this house. You're going to get some meaningful rest."
Sally smiled brightly, "ok," she agreed.
"Good, I'll talk with you later." But Storm called to her as she left the bathroom, "Oh by the way, your co-worker Mitch called last night. I answered your phone because I didn't want it to disturb you."
"Oh that's fine. Was he upset? I hope not. I told him I wanted to go back to the lab yesterday and study the slides once more. I probably inconvenience him. Thanks I'll work it out with him."
"He wasn't mad. He understood you were tired. I think he was tired also and was probably happy you couldn't go. How serious is this test?"
"Very, it's one of the major ones."
"Well then, study hard but not to the point of exhaustion. You need to rest the night before the test. When is it?"
"Tomorrow."
"Come over and stay."
"No, Mitch and I are doing last minute recaps and will probably be at the hospital late before going home."
"Sally, I mean it; you have to rest before that exam. I think you should stay here. I won't make you study."
"I won't, I'll get some rest. Have to go, bye."
"Bye."
"Dinner was great as usual Yashy," Storm said as Ayasha began eating her slice of strawberry cheesecake.
"I don't know what has gotten into me but I have to strawberries all the time."
"You're pregnant, there's a baby inside of you," Collin replied.
Ayasha gave him a look which made Storm laugh. "You left that one right open sis."
"You're suppose to defend me."
"Yes, when you need defending."
"So how are things going with you and Sally?" Collin asked.
"Things are going great. She's busy with the internship but I did get a chance to see her last night."
"Yeah, I understand how that can be. They put those techs through hell these days. I sometimes thing it's best they get a doctorate with the stress they go through but I also understand why. They process some vital information and they have to be right. I'm happy she's happy doing it. Tell her if she needs any help, let me know. I'll do my best to assist her."
"Thanks Collin, will do." Storm turned to Ayasha, "By the way do you women like drawers that closer to your side of the bed or to the bathroom?"
"Our side of the bed, why?"
"Just thinking about which drawers I'm giving to Sally."
"She's moving in?"
"I haven't asked but I want her to."
|
1
“Hold this.”
“Why?”
“Trust me.”
“Dante.”
“Ari, please.”
The box looked like an innocent birthday gift. Ari would have no trouble accepting it had it been his birthday. But it wasn’t.
He shook it. It rattled. He glanced up at Dante and narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
“Is this what I think it is?”
“You know the rules of gift-giving, Ari.”
“I don’t want your shoes, Dante.”
“I gave it to you, so now it’s yours forever.”
It was worth it. Dante was smiling.
2
The water at the lake was green and untrustworthy, but Ari still dared to dip his feet in the water. But Dante dove inside enthusiastically. Ari waited for him to peak his head out of the water, and when he did, Dante had a smile of victory.
“Ari.”
“What?”
“I just lost my shoes.”
“How?”
“I dove in with them on.”
“On purpose?”
Dante laughed.
Yeah, it was on purpose.
3
Ari had never been camping before, but the best part was the bonfire. He could never have enough s’mores.
In a single movement, Dante pulled his face close and kissed him. Without warning. That was Ari’s favorite way of kissing.
“I can taste the marshmallow in your mouth,” Dante whispered.
“I know.”
The bonfire was crackling more than before. Dante’s shoe was deep in the middle, roasting like their marshmallows.
“That was sneaky, Dante.”
“And it was fun.”
4
He didn’t know why they had suddenly stopped during their morning jog, except that Dante was now walking away from him.
“Dante?”
Dante stopped in front of a homeless man resting against a dirty wall. Ari caught up to Dante, eyes furrowed in confusion.
“You don’t have shoes,” Dante said.
“What’s it to ya?”
“You can have mine.” Dante slipped out of his shoes, along with his white socks, and handed them over to the homeless man. “They’re clean.”
The homeless man took them after a moment of hesitation.
5
There was a bulk behind the sheet that covered up Dante’s newest painting. Ari had a pretty good guess as to what was behind it even before Dante uncovered it.
“What do you think?”
The tennis shoe was resting firmly on the large canvas. There were tracks of mud all over, which looked purely intentional. Ari could only imagine the fun Dante had making this piece.
“Not bad.”
“I figured this way, Mom can’t be mad.”
“At least you found them a good purpose.”
“At least I did.”
6
Dante had given Ari’s bed a whole new purpose. Together they had discovered the perfect place to make out.
At night, right before sleep took over his consciousness, Ari thought of Dante in his arms, in his bed. The nightmares rarely resurfaced that way. His bed was a place of comfort.
In the midst of their laughter and fast breathing, Ari heard a thud close by. His lips stopped their motion when he realized the house was empty aside from the two of them.
“What was that?”
“Shoes,” Dante gasped.
Ari couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t realize you were still wearing them.”
“Forgot to take them off.”
Dante brought their lips back together, and his soft fingers tangled in Ari’s hair.
Before Ari’s eyes fluttered shut, he saw the second tennis shoe flying out his open window, moving the curtain along.
7
Ari and Dante hovered close to a black construction hole on the street. With no one around in sight, they exchanged an inquisitive look.
“How deep do you think it goes?”
Dante’s eyes lit up. “Should we test it?”
“How?”
Dante removed his shoes quickly, and handed one to Ari. “I’ll go first.”
Ari watched as the shoe disappeared into the darkness of the hole, and they both waited patiently until they heard it splash against water.
“We can’t measure this, Dante.”
“Who cares? It’s your turn.”
Ari smiled as he let Dante’s other shoe fall into the hole. The water splashed again, and satisfaction settled over them.
“That’s teamwork, Ari.”
“We make a great team.”
Dante reached for Ari’s hand and gave it a light squeeze.
8
There were a multitude of stars in the clear night sky. None of that light pollution. Ari closed his eyes, feeling at ease on the bed of his truck with Dante’s arm against his.
A kiss woke him from the sleep he never realized had overtaken him. Dante was glancing at him with expectation.
“You miss me?”
“No. I have you.”
Ari laughed because he knew Dante was right.
“I have an idea, Ari.”
“Tell me.”
“I want to drive your truck.”
“You’ve only had three lessons, Dante.”
Ari sat up and ran a hand through his long hair. He expected a haircut soon.
“Let me try. Please.”
And if that sweet quiet voice wasn’t convincing enough, Dante also had kisses to offer his neck, right below his ear. Ari shivered, though it wasn’t cold.
When Dante was given the keys, Ari hurried to the passenger seat to make sure everything went okay. Dante didn’t have much trouble starting the truck anymore. He was a fast learner, after all. After a few long circles in the desert, Dante headed back to their original spot. The perfect spot.
Ari noticed the pair of tennis shoes that had been left on the sand. Dante looked determined and excited as he speeded ahead and let the wheels of the truck run over his shoes.
“Dante, just a word of advice. When you’re driving on an actual road, never willingly drive over objects. Including people.”
“Unless they’re shoes.”
Ari smiled. “Unless they’re shoes.”
9
They were sitting on the roof of Ari’s house. Dante wanted to know what it was like being on the roof of a house, so they asked Ari’s dad for a ladder and climbed it. The view wasn’t beautiful, but they had a nice white glow from the full moon.
“I wish I’d brought a book up here,” Dante said.
“You can’t read outside at night,” Ari said.
“I can try. I have a flashlight.”
Dante turned on the flashlight in his hand and pointed it at Ari before turning it off.
“Now I’m blind.”
Dante laughed. He wrapped an arm around Ari’s shoulder and leaned his head against his temple.
“Nights with you are my favorite,” Dante said, real quiet.
“Me too.”
The moment grew longer, and they said nothing. Ari moved closer until his hand was gripping Dante’s side, mostly to assure he wouldn’t fall down.
“Too bad for the light pollution,” Ari said.
“The moon is ours anyway.”
On the way down the ladder, Ari noticed Dante’s shoes had been left behind. He glanced at Dante, who had reached the bottom. Ari didn’t say a thing about them.
10
“How do you still have so many shoes, Dante? You keep getting rid of them!”
In his room, Dante was building a tennis shoe pyramid. He was focused, with a bead of sweat on his forehead.
“I’m making a sculpture,” Dante said.
With a sigh, Ari joined Dante on the floor and handed him the rest of the shoes.
“Art takes effort.”
“Who would have thought? The boy who hates shoes found in them a new muse.”
Dante smiled as he continued to stack the shoes in a precise manner. He was nailing each shoe together somehow. It seemed like a lot of work.
“You’re wrong.”
“Am I?”
The last shoe went at the very top, but Dante didn’t nail it. He just let it sit there and then scooted back to admire his creation.
“You’re my muse, Ari.”
The kiss he received left little to argue with. |
. . .
“He’s so talented!” Hoseok gushes, bumping Jungkook with his elbow. “He’s a grad student and teaching assistant for the music program. So cool! And he’s so nice, Kook, you’re gonna love him.”
Jungkook doesn’t respond, just picks up his pace to try to keep up with Hoseok. He tugs at his hood, pulling it up over his head and ducking against the rain. Hoseok doesn’t seem deterred by his silence, continuing to happily chatter away.
“I’m sure meeting hyung will be a big help for you!” Hoseok says happily.
Frowning, Jungkook shoves his hands into his pockets. Hoseok says it so casually, as if Jungkook having a hard time adjusting and settling in is totally normal. And maybe it is… but Jungkook feels like it shouldn’t be so difficult. It’s not even his first year of university. He’s a sophomore this year, but as a transfer student he may as well be a wide eyed first year again.
If he’s being honest, Jungkook is grateful for Hoseok. Maybe it’s a small blessing, having Jung Hoseok as his resident advisor. Whenever Jungkook’s jerk of a roommate sexiles him, Hoseok happily invites him in for ramyeon and video games. No questions asked, just a bright smile and a pat on the back.
It’s kind of nice, really. Even if Jungkook isn’t a freshman, Hoseok has taken him under his wing and has been trying to help. Hoseok convinced him to try out for the dance team; and Jungkook made friends with Jimin through that, and then Jimin’s soulmate Taehyung. So he’s not exactly friendless. But… It's still hard.
And now Hoseok has something else to latch onto. When Jungkook had explained that he wasn’t even a dance major, it’s just a hobby, Hoseok had been intrigued. Intrigued and then delighted, once Jungkook continued. Jungkook didn’t realize what the big deal was, his dual major in composition and voice, but Hoseok was leaping to his feet and clapping. He grabbed Jungkook by the hood of his sweatshirt and dragged him out into the rain, crowing about how much Jungkook was going to love Yoongi hyung.
So now, fifteen minutes later, a dripping Jungkook is following Hoseok down a random hallway in the music building. Hoseok turns a corner, still rambling about how amazing Yoonie hyung is. Jungkook is pretty sure Hoseok hasn’t stopped talking the entire fifteen minutes. He’s a little alarmed since he barely seems to pause to breathe.
“Hyung,” Jungkook begins quietly when Hoseok finally pauses for air. “You, um, you seem to really like him. Is he your soulmate?”
Hoseok laughs, bright and vibrant. “Yoongi hyung? I wish! Well, me and half the university. But no, he’s just a great guy. Everyone loves Yoongi.” He pauses, shooting Jungkook a wink. “You’ll see.”
Jungkook doesn’t understand what Hoseok means, but it doesn’t take him long to figure it out.
“Ah, here we are!” Hoseok announces, stopping outside of a closed office door. He shoves it open without knocking. “Yoongi hyung!”
“Seok?” Jungkook hears a soft, deep voice respond.
Hoseok is standing in the doorway, blocking the interior of the office from Jungkook’s view. “Hyung, meet the new transfer student! He’s one of my residents!”
All Jungkook can see is a flash of blonde hair over Hoseok’s shoulder, unable to make out the man on the other side. But he hears a sigh and then a soft chuckle. It’s warm, the sound making Jungkook’s stomach dip.
“Hoseok-ah,” he chuckles, “why are you yelling? I’m right here.”
“Ah.” Hoseok lifts an arm, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, hyung. I’m just excited for you two to meet. Jungkookie is a voice and composition major and I thought -”
“Calm down,” Yoongi laughs. “You’re going to scare him away, Hobi.”
Shrugging, Hoseok steps to the side, grabbing Jungkook by the sleeve and dragging him into the office. Jungkook blinks, tugging off his soaked hood and stops - gaze catching on the man sitting behind the desk. He’s - he’s beautiful. Fluffy blonde hair and bright, curious eyes. A polite smile on pink, doll-like lips. And he’s practically drowning in a fluffy blue sweater, just the tips of his fingers peeking from the sleeves.
And maybe Jungkook gets it now, when Yoongi’s smile shifts into something warmer, sweeter. Kind and soft and beautiful. He sees it, sees something.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Yoongi says, standing and coming around the desk. “You’ll probably see me in some of your lectures. Please ask me if you need any help.”
Jungkook swallows hard before responding, tongue feeling suddenly too big for his mouth. “Thank you, Yoongi-ssi.”
Yoongi extends a hand for Jungkook to shake, his smile growing, a hint of teeth and pink gums. “Call me hyung.”
Something flutters in Jungkook’s chest as their hands meet. He feels warm, so warm. His stomach turns and he wonders if maybe the spicy kimbap Hoseok bought him for lunch is making him sick. But it’s not necessarily unpleasant, just… different.
A tingle travels down Jungkook’s spine and he finds himself smiling back, squeezing Yoongi’s fingers gently. “Okay, hyung.”
. . .
Jungkook doesn’t see Yoongi for two weeks after that. He isn’t in any of Jungkook’s lectures or practical classes. But Jungkook thinks about him. He can’t seem to stop. They only talked for a few minutes before a student came to ask Yoongi a question and he and Hoseok had to leave, but those few minutes seemed like so much.
The feeling Jungkook experienced when their hands touched, so warm and fulfilling. It was strange, but not unwelcome. Jungkook still thinks it might have been indigestion, but Yoongi still haunts the corners of his mind. His chuckle, his deep purr of a voice. The way his gums peeked out when he smiled, eyes creasing. And the way he made Jungkook’s stomach flip.
It flips again, that funny squiggly feeling, as soon as Jungkook steps into his lecture hall. Jungkook is trying to shake the rainwater from another downpour off his bag when he catches sight of a head of blonde hair. Yoongi is at the bottom of the tiered hall, straightening a stack of papers next to the lecturer’s podium.
He freezes, struck again by… by Yoongi. It’s not the same as last time, not heart stopping, but he feels warm. Yoongi glances up, as if he senses him and smiles when he catches sight of him, bright and sweet. He waves, the sleeves of another oversized sweater nearly slipping off his fingers. Trying to force down the blush on his cheeks, Jungkook offers his own nervous smile and lifts a hand, giving a quick wave.
A cough behind him reminds Jungkook he’s still standing in the doorway. Muttering a quick apology, Jungkook scurries away from the door to find an empty seat. When he looks up again, Yoongi is no longer watching him, now talking to the professor at the front.
Jungkook tries to pay attention during the lecture, halfheartedly listening to his composition professor discuss a semester project. But he can’t help but waver, his attention drifting to Yoongi, eyes wandering to where he sits off to the side.
His attention snaps back to class when the professor announces they’ll be working in pairs. Jungkook’s stomach drops, but it’s not the vaguely pleasant feeling this time. This time it’s dread. He glances around, seeing his classmates already talking and pairing off. No one approaches Jungkook where he sits alone on the side. He stays frozen in his chair, fingers curled around the edge of the table, heart in his throat.
When the professor dismisses them a few minutes later, Jungkook is left alone and partnerless.
He shouldn’t really be surprised, and he doesn’t blame anyone. Most of his classmates have been in the program together since the previous year. They have established friendships, groups. And Jungkook is shy, he doesn’t know how to break into those groups, doesn’t know how to put himself out there and establish those friendships. Honestly, things like making friends seemed so much easier before university.
Sighing, Jungkook stands when the room clears out, gathering his notebook and pens into his bag. When he glances down, Yoongi is still at the front of the room, packing his things into a messenger bag. Squaring his shoulders, Jungkook grips the strap of his bag and walks down the steps.
“Jungkook-ah!” Yoongi says brightly when he looks up to find Jungkook in front of him. “How are you?”
Jungkook can’t help but smile, something about Yoongi making the impending embarrassment of this conversation less heavy. “Hi, hyung. I’m okay. How are you?”
“Good!” Yoongi leans against the desk. “It’s nice to see you again, Jungkook. Did you have a question about class?”
The warmth fades a little and Jungkook feels his smile slip. Right… Clearing his throat, Jungkook tightens his grip on his bag. “Um, I know the professor said we should work in pairs. But… could I work alone?”
Yoongi blinks at him, studying his face. His smile dips a little as well and he looks concerned. “You don’t want to work with anyone?”
“I -” Jungkook hates having to explain this. “I don’t really know anyone and everyone paired up and…” he trails off. “Honestly, I’d rather work alone anyway. It’s not a big deal, really.”
Yoongi doesn’t look convinced but he smiles again, something gentle that has the warmth returning to Jungkook’s belly. “What if I help you?”
“What?”
Yoongi chuckles and shrugs. “I’ll be your partner.”
“Is that allowed?” Jungkook blurts. He shouldn’t question it, the idea of being project partners with Yoongi and spending time with him makes him want to jump for joy.
“Sure, why not.” Yoongi holds out his hand. “Here, give me your phone. I’ll put in my number.”
Yoongi wants to give Jungkook his phone number. Jungkook digs his phone out, heart skipping in his chest.
Their fingers brush when Jungkook hands over his phone and Jungkook feels tingles down his spine again, a warm rush through his veins as Yoongi types in his number and smiles.
. . .
The hallway is narrow and dimly lit, tucked in the basement of the music building. Jungkook moves along the rows of doors, glancing at the numbered plaques. Yoongi had texted him, asking Jungkook to meet him after his afternoon classes. As a teaching assistant and a grad student, he has his own studio in the building and had invited Jungkook there. Jungkook can’t help the fluttering in his belly or nervous tremble in his fingers.
Finding the correct door, Jungkook knocks and a moment later Yoongi is pulling the door open, gracing Jungkook with another bright smile.
“Hi, Kook-ah!” he says brightly, the nickname rolling easily off his tongue.
“Hi, hyung,” Jungkook echoes.
Crossing the room, Yoongi plops into a chair in front of the desk. “Come on, I pulled up a chair for you.” He pats the chair beside him and Jungkook hurries to take it.
The studio is nice, professional. A leather couch and fancy equipment that Jungkook has no idea how to use. An expensive looking electric keyboard is perpendicular to the desk, covered in sheet music. Yoongi looks completely comfortable and at home in the space, his bright yellow sweater standing out against the muted grays of the room.
Jungkook thinks he looks a little like a flower. One of the spring crocuses trying so hard to bloom in the flower beds around campus.
“So,” Yoongi says, breaking Jungkook from his thoughts. “The project is to create a song based on the guidelines. Have you ever written a song before?”
Nodding, Jungkook opens his bag to pull out his notebook. It’s tattered around the edges, but filled with scrawled lyrics and lines, things he thought he might use someday. “Sort of.”
“Okay, you’re a voice and composition major, right? What do you like to do?”
Jungkook shrugs. “I guess I like writing lyrics, trying to make up songs. I don’t really play any instruments that well but, um… I like to sing.”
Smiling encouragingly, Yoongi nods along. “Okay, what do you like to sing? Your own songs?”
“Oh, well…” Jungkook trails off, feeling himself flushing. “I don’t think any of them are very good. I mostly just sing the pop songs on the radio, you know.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Yoongi says easily. “I’m sure your songs are great.” He turns and rummages on the desk, grabbing a sheet of lined paper. “Can you sing this?”
Jungkook stares down at the paper, lyrics written neatly along the lines. Yoongi clicks his mouse and a track begins to play. A steady beat, bright piano and strings, guitar over the top. Licking his lips, Jungkook glances at Yoongi once, finding him watching intently, before looking back down at the paper.
It starts shakily, Jungkook’s voice is small and quiet. But it builds as the song continues, confidence growing as he gets to the bridge, sings through the chorus. The lyrics are good, warm and beautiful, the music swelling in his chest. By the time the track ends, Jungkook feels a little breathless, having lost himself in the music.
Glancing up, Jungkook finds Yoongi staring at him, his eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “Um.” Jungkook’s fingers tighten around the sheet of paper, crinkling the edges. “Was that bad?”
“No!” Yoongi says quickly, leaning forward. “No, not at all.” He seems to realize he’s leaned into Jungkook’s space and sits back, rubbing his hands over his jeans. “You’re really talented, Jungkook.”
“Oh.” Jungkook feels a little flustered, unsure how to respond. “Well, uh, these lyrics are good. And the music… I really like it.”
“Really?” Yoongi asks. At Jungkook’s nod he smiles, cheeks turning a little pink. “Thank you, they’re mine.”
It’s Jungkook’s turn to be shocked. “You wrote this? It’s amazing. The lyrics are so good, so perfect, and the song is beautiful. I love the beat and the layers are unbelievable. The guitar at the bridge was so -” he cuts off, realizing he’s rambling.
Yoongi is smiling at him, teeth and gums peeking from between his lips. “Thank you, Jungkook-ah,” he says quietly. “That means a lot.”
“You’re really talented, hyung,” Jungkook insists.
“So are you,” Yoongi says evenly. “I’ve seen some of your work for class, you have a gift. Why didn’t you want to work with any of your classmates?”
Jungkook tries not to curl in on himself, looking away to stare down at the paper again. “I don’t really… I don’t know anyone,” he mumbles.
“You know me, and Hoseok,” Yoongi counters.
“No, it’s not -” Jungkook breaks off, frowning down at his hands. “I transferred to this university this semester and I haven’t really made any friends. Everyone seems to have established friend groups and I’m… shy,” he finishes lamely.
Yoongi makes a sympathetic noise and Jungkook looks up, seeing his eyes brimming with understanding, smile soft. “I’m shy too,” he confides. “I understand. But I think you seem really great, Jungkook. I’m sure if you just try, everyone will want to be your friend.”
“Even you?” Jungkook whispers. His heart feels like it’s lodged in his throat.
Yoongi's smile is brilliant, eyes sparkling. “Well, I hope I already am.”
. . .
Jungkook is lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying the sound of Yoongi’s soft laughter, when his phone buzzes beneath him. He’s been trying to sleep for hours but his roommate’s snoring has made that impossible. Squirming, he digs it out from under his back and looks at the screen, surprised to see a text from Yoongi. It’s almost like Yoongi knew Jungkook was thinking about him. But that would be silly.
[Yoongi hyung]
Hi Jungkook.
I really did love your voice today. Maybe next time you can show me some of your lyrics?
Jungkook bites his lip as he stares at the message. He’s never really shared his lyrics before, at least not outside of a class setting. It feels so personal, almost embarrassing. But if it’s Yoongi…
[Jeon Jungkook]
Okay hyung
Thank you for working on my project with me
[Yoongi hyung]
Of course!
Though I’m sure you’d rather work alone
[Jeon Jungkook]
No way! Working with you is the best!
That sounded a little desperate. Jungkook doesn’t want to come on too strong. What if Yoongi thinks he’s weird?
[Yoongi hyung]
:)
That’s a good sign
[Yoongi hyung]
You sounded so wonderful singing my lyrics today
Do you think you might want to do that again? But recording?
I’m working on my portfolio and could use a vocalist
My friend that used to help me out has been really busy lately
Yoongi wants him to sing on his tracks? For his portfolio? This seems very big.
[Yoongi hyung]
Sorry! Is that too much?
Jungkook realizes he’s been silent for too long. As nervous as he is to say yes, he can’t deny that having Yoongi ask him feels good.
[Jeon Jungkook]
It would be an honor
I just hope I’ll do well
[Yoongi hyung]
You will, I know it
A pause, Jungkook smiles dopily at his phone until another message pops up.
[Yoongi hyung]
Why are you up so late?
[Jeon Jungkook]
You’re up late too
[Yoongi hyung]
I’m always up late, I don’t have early classes
Don’t you have an early theory class?
Jungkook sighs. He does have an early class, he has to be up in just a few hours. But sleeping is hard away from home; and with a roommate who snores loudly and makes too much noise, it’s even harder. Jungkook has never been the best sleeper and university stress has only made it worse.
[Jeon Jungkook]
I can't sleep
Sometimes it’s hard to turn his brain off. He’s been thinking about so much. Dance team, his difficult theory class. His roommate kicks him out all the time and Jungkook worries that he’s bothering Hoseok. Feeling like a third wheel with Jimin and his soulmate, even when he knows he isn’t. His inability to make friends in his classes and his program. And Yoongi… Jungkook can’t stop thinking about Yoongi.
His phone buzzes again, snapping Jungkook from his spiraling thoughts.
[Yoongi hyung]
Try this
It’s an mp3 file. Leaning to his bedside table, Jungkook grabs his headphones and puts them on, clicking play on the file. Music fills his ears, soft and soothing, lilting piano that instantly soothes him. Something so gentle about it that it makes Jungkook breathe a little easier.
[Jeon Jungkook]
This is beautiful, Yoongi hyung
[Yoongi hyung]
I wrote it the other week
I was thinking about… well that isn’t important
I thought it might help you sleep
Jungkook smiles at his phone, rolling onto his side and cuddling under his blankets.
[Jeon Jungkook]
Thank you, hyung
[Yoongi hyung]
You’re welcome
Sweet dreams, Kookie
. . .
“Great job today, Jungkook!”
Jungkook smiles up at Hoseok from his place on the floor. He shoves a hand through his hair, trying to get it off his sweaty forehead. “Thanks, hyung. It was fun today.”
“Very fun!” Jimin chimes in, flopping onto the floor beside Jungkook and resting his head on Jungkook’s thigh. “Do you want to get smoothies with Tae Tae and me?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jungkook mumbles, staring down into Jimin’s smiling face.
Taehyung sinks to the ground on Jungkook’s other side, giving him a grin. “Come on, Kook. Min’s treat.”
“I didn’t agree to treat!” Jimin squawks, clumsily slapping out a hand toward Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung just laughs and dodges the attack.
Despite not being on the dance team, Taehyung attends a lot of their practices. He’ll sit in the corner and watch, clapping excitedly for Jimin and occasionally taking pictures with a fancy looking camera. It’s cute, if not nauseating at times. Though Jungkook is pretty sure that might be his own barely hidden jealousy over not finding his own soulmate yet. Jimin and Taehyung always look so happy. Jungkook wonders if he’ll ever find that.
“Hyungs! Joonie!”
Jungkook blinks, startling out of his thoughts at Hoseok’s exclamation. He turns his head toward the door, seeing Hoseok standing with three other men - and one of them is Yoongi. Yoongi glances over and smiles, leaning around Hoseok to wave at him. Jungkook smiles back, lifting a hand to wave.
“What was that?” Taehyung asks.
“What?” Jungkook asks, dropping his hand.
Jimin reaches up to boop his nose. “You know Yoonie hyung?”
“He’s helping me with my composition project. We’ve hung out a few times.” Or more than a few at this point. But they’re all to work on the project. Though they text sometimes, outside of that. Yoongi loves sending pictures of cats he sees around campus, blooming flowers. Jungkook sends the rain streaking his window, birds on tree limbs. It feels like spring.
“Ooh,” Jimin coos, “lucky you. Yoongi hyung is so nice, everyone loves him.”
“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees. “He’s cute, right?”
“I’m cute too, Taehyungie,” Jimin whines, pouting at Taehyung.
Taehyung smiles and leans down, pressing a quick kiss to Jimin’s lips. “Of course you are, baby,” Taehyung murmurs. It’s made a little awkward with Jimin still resting his head on Jungkook’s legs, but Jungkook is almost used to things like this by now. And Jungkook can’t really focus on that now anyway, because Yoongi is walking over.
“Hi hyung,” Jungkook says, hoping his voice isn’t really as breathy as it sounds. Jimin’s snickering lets him know how wrong he is.
But Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice. He stops in front of Jungkook, hands in the pockets of a large pink sweatshirt, smiling. “Hi, Kook. Good practice?”
“Yeah it -”
“Hi Yoonie hyung!” Jimin cuts in, sitting up and beaming at Yoongi. He wiggles off Jungkook to sprawl practically in Taehyung’s lap. “Long time no see.”
Yoongi turns his attention to Jimin, still smiling. “Hi Jimin-ah, Taehyung-ah. I didn’t know you knew Jungkookie.”
Jungkookie.
“Of course,” Jimin says, “dance team besties!”
“Jungkook is our baby,” Taehyung adds.
Jungkook turns to glare at the two of them. “I most certainly am not.”
Yoongi laughs softly, a wheezy chuckle that makes Jungkook’s belly do somersaults. He swallows around what feels like a giggle, or maybe a scream. “What are you doing here, hyung? Come to dance?”
“Goodness no!” Yoongi laughs, brighter this time. He squats down so he and Jungkook are nearly eye level. He’s so close, eyes sparkling in the overhead lights. “I don’t dance.”
“I could teach you,” Jungkook blurts. Beside him, Jimin lets out a quiet ooh. Jungkook isn’t sure where his boldness comes from, but the thought of dancing with Yoongi makes him feel giddy.
“Maybe some time,” Yoongi deflects, smiling down at him. “I’m sure you -”
“Yoongi-yah!” One of the men from the doorway calls Yoongi’s name and he turns. “Let’s go!”
Yoongi turns back, giving Jungkook an apologetic smile. “Sorry, we were just collecting Hoseok. Seokjin hyung is treating us to dinner. He just finished his dissertation and Namjoon said we have to celebrate.”
“Oh, that sounds fun.”
“Yeah, he’s paying so…” Yoongi trails off, giving him a wink. “We still on for tomorrow?”
Jungkook nods immediately. “Definitely, I’ll see you at the studio. I can bring coffee?”
“My prince,” Yoongi breathes, and Jungkook’s heart threatens to climb out his throat. He hesitates for a moment, tongue darting out to lick his lips. Slowly, tentatively, Yoongi reaches out and squeezes his wrist. The touch feels electric, Jungkook almost flinching from the contact. Yoongi blinks, fingers tightening once, as if maybe he felt it too. Then he’s pulling back, smiling. “I’ll see you then.”
“Bye, hyung,” Jungkook whispers, much too late. He steadfastly ignores the kissy noises Jimin and Taehyung are making beside him. “Shut up and buy me a smoothie,” he huffs, shoving a clinging Jimin away from him.
. . .
Time passes slowly, in the pale grays and faded dark woods of classrooms and lecture halls. In the dreary, sickly taupe of his dorm room. And in bursts of sudden, stunning gold. Bright and filling the dusty edges of Jungkook’s life with warmth. Moments with Yoongi, tinged in gilded rose whenever they spend time together.
In the studio, on campus, with their friends as their groups meld together, the seven of them. Jungkook likes it, the addition of Namjoon and Seokjin to their group, the comfort of friendship that doesn’t feel like work. Game nights at Seokjin’s apartment, dinners at crowded restaurants. Lunches in the dining hall, movie nights on Yoongi’s couch. And Yoongi is always there, right by Jungkook’s side, sticking close and smiling.
The rains pass and spring flowers bloom. The world breathes a collective sigh, the city blooming in a riot of color. It blossoms like Yoongi’s smile, his bright laughter. The sun shines like Yoongi’s amber eyes as summer begins. And they grow closer, shift together, become comfortable.
Even when Jungkook’s project is done, they meet in Yoongi’s studio after classes, talking and making music. It becomes routine, to end up there together. Jungkook sings for Yoongi, watching his smile from the recording booth as Yoongi nods along, praising him softly. Warmth grows and blossoms in Jungkook’s chest, branching vines curling around his ribs.
After hours spent in the studio, they walk home together. Jungkook insists on walking Yoongi home, and despite protests that I’m the hyung, Yoongi always relents. They walk together, their hands just barely brushing, laughing together as the sun sets. Jungkook will leave Yoongi at the door to his building and Yoongi will send him off. Always with a smile, sometimes with a hug. And once, Jungkook thought, almost a kiss.
Yoongi feels like spring, and then he feels like summer. And sometimes he feels almost like home.
. . .
The warmth of summer looks good on Yoongi. His blonde hair glows like molten honey in the sunlight and his gummy smile flashes as he laughs, curled in on himself. Jungkook grins at him, knowing his jokes aren’t very funny, but Yoongi always seems to love them. It’s easy, comfortable, Yoongi leaning into his side, the bare skin of their arms brushing. It sends pinpricks of electricity through Jungkook’s veins, tickles along his skin like goosebumps.
But then Yoongi stops walking. Jungkook nearly stumbles, turning his head to see Yoongi frozen with a man standing in front of him. Stepping back, Jungkook stops at Yoongi’s side, glancing between him and the other student.
“Yoongi hyung?” Jungkook asks, but Yoongi doesn’t respond, eyes fixed on the man in front of him.
“Oh,” Yoongi says. “Jisung.” There’s no warmth in his tone, just something like resignation. “Hello.”
“Yoongi hyung,” the man, Jisung, says. “It’s my birthday.”
Something Jungkook can’t read passes across Yoongi’s face before he offers a shaky smile. “Happy birthday?”
“Can I shake your hand?” Jisung blurts, holding out his hand. His eyes are fixed on Yoongi’s face, staring at his eyes, studying him.
Yoongi seems to flinch a little, face tightening. But then he plasters on a smile and nods, extending his hand. “Of course.” His voice is so flat, can’t Jisung hear it?
Slowly, Jisung reaches out and takes Yoongi’s hand. He shakes it, squeezes Yoongi’s fingers, holds on too long. Yoongi just stands there, smile clearly fake, eyes blank, as Jisung deflates.
Jungkook doesn’t know what’s going on. Well, that’s not entirely true. He has an idea, but he has no idea why it’s happening like this. It all seems so… ridiculous. Almost theatrical.
“Sorry, Yoongi hyung,” Jisung says finally, withdrawing his hand.
Nodding once, Yoongi steps around him. “You’re fine. Happy birthday, Jisung.” He starts walking again and Jungkook has to hurry to catch up, feeling like he was rooted to the spot.
“Hyung?” he asks softly when they’ve walked a few steps. “What was that?”
“Nothing, Kook,” Yoongi says, shaking his head. His voice sounds tight and his expression is pinched, almost pained.
“But I -”
“Tell me more about your class?” Yoongi cuts in. “The one with Professor Han?”
Jungkook is surprised by Yoongi’s deflection but he doesn’t argue, just nods and hesitantly resumes his story. Something aches in Jungkook’s chest. An ugly feeling swirling there, jealousy and confusion and mortification. Why is he jealous? He doesn’t have a right to be… nothing even happened. Yoongi didn’t do anything. And they’re not… they aren’t…
Forcing his thoughts down, Jungkook locks them away, trying to focus on his story, focus on making Yoongi smile again. Yoongi slowly relaxes as he talks, as if all the muscles in his body slowly unknot. By the time they make it to the café, Yoongi is almost smiling again.
. . .
The jealousy sits in him like a heavy weight. The flowering vines around his ribcage grow thorns that pierce his skin from the inside out. Jungkook knows he has no right to be jealous, should want only happiness for Yoongi. Yoongi is twenty-four, he must be anxious to find his soulmate. He’s had six years of waiting while Jungkook has only had two. Jungkook shouldn’t be so selfish… but the thought of Yoongi with anyone else makes his stomach twist and writhe.
Jungkook isn’t entirely sure when it started, when his feelings for Yoongi started shifting from friendship to something else. Though he thinks that might be because it was never just friendship. From the moment he saw him, there was something there. Jungkook can’t put his finger on exactly what it is, but it feels different from a simple friendship. It’s nothing he’s ever felt before and Jungkook craves it, that tickling warmth.
The interaction he witnessed between Yoongi and Jisung plagues him. Yoongi didn’t even seem surprised that it was happening, he just looked resigned. He thinks back to what their friends have said. Hoseok’s declaration that everyone wished Yoongi was their soulmate. Jimin casually saying that everyone loves Yoongi. And Yoongi doesn’t have a soulmate, so… do people just come up to him to try their luck? Like he’s a prize to be won? It makes the twisting in Jungkook’s stomach feel ever worse, the thorns dig in deeper.
It takes Jungkook a while to bring it up. And he can’t do it with Yoongi, it was clear Yoongi didn’t want to talk about it. So Jungkook waits until he has Hoseok alone. They’re sprawled on beanbag chairs on the floor of Hoseok’s dorm room playing video games and eating snacks. Hoseok is casual and relaxed and Jungkook figures he won’t get a better opportunity.
“Hyung,” Jungkook ventures, waiting for Hoseok’s grunt of acknowledgement. “Yoongi hyung doesn’t have a soulmate yet, right?”
Hoseok’s lips dip into a frown. “Hyung hasn’t met his soulmate yet,” Hoseok agrees. “It’s… hard for him.”
“Oh?” Jungkook prompts, confused.
It shouldn’t be hard, not technically. The concept is simple, though the actual finding can take time, but –
“Hyung is adopted,” Hoseok continues. “He doesn’t know when his birthday is.”
“Oh,” Jungkook repeats. But it’s not curious this time. It’s understanding, sadness.
The process for finding your soulmate is, in theory, a very simple one. The first opportunity is on your eighteenth birthday, and each birthday thereafter. Two times a year when you could know for sure. Your birthday, and your soulmate’s. That’s how it works. You might suspect that someone is your soulmate, but there’s no way to know for sure until one of those days.
Everyone says it feels differently, depending on the bond, on their soulmate. The mechanism is usually the same though, you know when you look in their eyes, when you touch. There should be a sign of some sort, a way to tell.
For Jimin, he said it felt like fireworks, popcorn popping in his stomach, a full body warmth like being submerged in a bathtub. Taehyung feeling like home and happiness, though they had known for years, suspected since they met in high school, just waiting for the day they could know for sure.
Jungkook’s parents said it was like pins and needles along their skin, bubbles in their bellies, a cool breeze washing over them.
Everyone has a different story, a different experience. Jungkook doesn’t know how it’s supposed to feel, what his own experience will be like, but he wants the chance to find out. A chance to feel it. A chance, just then, to know for sure.
And Yoongi, not knowing his birthday, will only have one chance every year. No wonder people come up to him and offer a hand, stare into his eyes. A chance for Yoongi to be theirs, their cosmically destined perfect match.
Selfishly, privately, Jungkook hopes to experience it on his twentieth birthday next month. And he knows who he wants it to be, though he feels a little like a monster to feel that way. Yoongi goes through that constantly, Jungkook doesn’t want to be just one more person in a line of desperate suitors.
“Yoongi is very popular,” Hoseok says after a few moments of silence. “You’ve seen him, you know.”
Jungkook does know. He knows exactly how Yoongi is, who he is.
“He’s cute and sweet, super talented. Everyone wants to date him, be his soulmate.”
Surface level things, Yoongi’s gummy smile and fluffy hair, his big sweaters and aptitude for his craft. Those people don’t think about the other things that make Yoongi who he is. The quiet way he cares, bringing Jungkook snacks and coffee, cooking him dinner and brushing off Jungkook’s thanks. Or the way Yoongi gets clingy when he’s tired, yawning like a kitten and curling up against Jungkook’s side. He is soft and sweet, and the best person Jungkook knows.
“He gets asked out a lot, approached on birthdays,” Hoseok explains.
“I saw,” Jungkook grits out.
Hoseok hums in acknowledgement. “It happens all the time. Yoongi gets tired of it, it makes him wary, even shyer. Sometimes I think hyung doesn’t even want to find his soulmate, if it’s so much trouble.”
The thorns in Jungkook’s chest stab into him. Yoongi doesn’t even want a soulmate at this point? Jungkook can imagine it, though, how it must feel. Tiring, almost dehumanizing. Being treated like a trophy, the campus’ prize to be won. The perfect, pretty student without a soulmate, a fair chance for anyone. It makes Jungkook feel a little sick. He wouldn’t want Yoongi to feel that way with him.
“That must be hard for hyung.”
“It is,” Hoseok agrees. “I think I’m probably wrong,” he continues. “I bet hyung wants to find the person so badly so this will all stop. Some of his songs are, well… personal.”
Jungkook understands, he’s heard a few. Heard the longing, the yearning beneath the swell of the piano.
“Yoongi hyung is so kind,” Hoseok murmurs. “So caring and loving. It’s hard for him, I think. He’s, you know… lonely.”
The jealousy ebbs away, replaced with sadness. Jungkook’s heart clenches in his chest, squeezing uncomfortably. He pictures Yoongi as he must be now, in his studio with his headphones on, pouring over the monitor in front of him. Small in his chair, alone and lonely. It makes something ache inside of Jungkook’s body, something deep and longing brimming to the surface. The thought of Yoongi lonely and sad hurting some primal part of him.
Yoongi doesn’t deserve that, he only deserves goodness, to be loved. Jungkook could be that goodness. Holding that love in the palms of his hands, cupped like a spring bud, fragile and new. Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? What he feels for Yoongi is so much more than just a friend, just a dongsaeng to his hyung. It is Yoongi’s tiny crocus blossom, waiting to be nurtured. Blossoming and unfurling with care and tenderness, with love.
. . .
Soft piano chords float through Jungkook’s headphones, Yoongi’s music in his ears as he walks across campus. On his way to the studio, Jungkook can’t help but think about Yoongi. He can hear him in the music, see his shifting expressions as he plays, the parting of his lips and fluttering of his lashes as the notes change.
The sadness is still there, a tightness around his heart when he thinks of Yoongi’s situation. It eases when they’re together, when Yoongi is beside him. That warmth fills him, making it a little easier to breathe. Jungkook doesn’t want to be like those other people on campus, doesn’t want Yoongi to feel forced into something he doesn’t want. The relationship they have is comfortable and warm. Jungkook is happy with that, with the way Yoongi makes his belly flutter. He just can’t help but crave a little more.
As Yoongi opens the studio door and smiles at him, the feeling grows and multiplies. It hits him, how desperate it feels. In less than a month, Jungkook will turn twenty. He will turn twenty and have his chance to find his soulmate. It could be like the last two years, with no result. But Jungkook can’t help but wish for something different this year. He can’t help but wish for it to be the man in front of him, grabbing Jungkook’s sleeve to tug him toward the desk. It could be. Maybe, possibly, Yoongi.
. . .
“I don’t know why we couldn’t just go on a picnic or something,” Yoongi complains from beside Jungkook. He looks disgruntled and Jungkook is almost alarmed to find how cute that is.
“Don’t complain,” Seokjin huffs. “You like amusement parks.”
Yoongi grumbles, shifting on his seat to look out the window.
“Maybe Jungkook can win you a prize,” Namjoon says from the front.
Maybe Jungkook imagines it, but he thinks Yoongi’s cheek and the tip of his ear, what little he can see, turn a bit pink. He’s not sure whose idea going to the amusement park was, but Jungkook was happy to agree. And for all of Yoongi’s pouting, he didn’t actually put up much fuss. They’re piled in two cars, Hoseok in one with Jimin and Taehyung and the rest of them in Seokjin’s car. Jungkook is beside Yoongi in the back, unable to stop glancing at him, taking in his side profile. The purse of his lips and flutter of his lashes, the delicate slope of his nose.
He needs to get himself together. Shifting on his seat, Jungkook forces himself to look out the window and listen to Seokjin and Namjoon quietly bicker in the front seats.
Everything devolves as soon as they arrive. What started as a group trip clearly changes. Jimin and Taehyung disappear in a flash when Jungkook blinks and Hoseok is grabbing Seokjin and Namjoon and tugging them away. Jungkook and Yoongi are left standing alone, a little shell-shocked, as Hoseok yells that they’ll meet up at seven.
“Well,” Yoongi says after a momentary pause. “That wasn’t entirely unexpected.”
Jungkook blinks. “It wasn’t?”
Shrugging, Yoongi tilts his head the opposite direction everyone else disappeared in and begins walking. “It’s not a big deal,” Yoongi says, instead of answering. “Sorry you’re stuck with me.”
“I’d rather be with you,” Jungkook blurts as he falls into step beside him. Yoongi's eyes widen and he looks over sharply. Jungkook feels his cheeks pinkening and clears his throat. “I just mean… I like spending time with you.”
Yoongi blinks once, twice, and then smiles. It’s his full, gummy smile, eyes creasing. It blooms like the cherry blossoms and crocuses in the park, like the bursts of flowers filling Jungkook’s chest.
It’s easy, being alone with Yoongi. They walk together, chatting companionably, pointing out different rides and attractions. Yoongi agrees to ride all of the rides Jungkook wants to, even if he looks a little wary, and maybe a little green. Jungkook stays away from the bigger coasters and rides, sensing Yoongi’s anxiety. But he can’t resist one that looks a little scary, and he’s rewarded for it, when Yoongi grabs his hand halfway through. Warmth shoots down his arm and Jungkook curls their fingers together.
When the ride ends and they get off, the sudden cold Jungkook feels when they part must be in his imagination.
After Jungkook has worn Yoongi out with rides, they make their way to get food. Yoongi buys Jungkook a mountain of snacks and they settle together at a table, talking as they eat.
“Have more,” Yoongi encourages, pushing some of his own food across the table.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Jungkook asks, mid-bite of a rice cake.
Yoongi just smiles, shaking his head. “I like watching you eat well, it makes me feel full.”
Jungkook licks his lips. The heat in his cheeks has to be from the spicy sauce, right? Clearing his throat, Jungkook wipes his hands on a napkin. “Where do you think everyone is?”
Across from him, Yoongi shrugs before leaning his elbow on the table, cheek on his palm. “Anywhere,” Yoongi says. “Hoseok doesn’t like rides but I bet Seokjin and Namjoon have bullied him onto some.” He studies Jungkook with half lidded eyes, small smile on his lips.
Like this, Yoongi is so beautiful. His hair falling into his eyes, the collar of his striped t-shirt slipping to show his collarbone. It’s almost too much. “Jimin and Taehyung are probably making out somewhere,” Jungkook observes.
“Oh, no doubt,” Yoongi laughs. “I’ll be surprised if they don’t get kicked out for public indecency.”
They laugh together, finishing their food in quiet conversation. When Jungkook is full, he stretches and glances around. “Games?”
“Sure, though I’m not very good at them,” Yoongi admits.
“I’ll win for you,” Jungkook promises, earning himself another blinding smile.
Yoongi wasn’t joking about his skill at the games. He doesn’t do well at any of them, tossing rings and balls, squirting water guns. Jungkook watches as he gets more and more flustered, pout growing more pronounced. Jungkook wants to squish his cheeks, sweep him into his arms, kiss him silly. It’s a miracle he holds himself back.
“Let me try,” Jungkook says gently, extricating a baseball from Yoongi’s fingers. “Which one do you want?”
Yoongi huffs, still pouting, but he points to a stuffed Kumamon sitting in a corner.
“Got it,” Jungkook says with a nod. He focuses on the stacked bottles in front of him and draws his arm back, tongue between his teeth. If he just hits it in the right spot… there. The tower collapses as his baseball makes contact and Yoongi gasps beside him.
“Jungkook! Holy shit!” Yoongi cries, grabbing Jungkook’s arm. His fingers press into Jungkook’s skin and a shiver crawls down his spine. Warm and pleasant, tingling in his toes.
Jungkook laughs and, without thinking, wraps an arm around Yoongi’s waist, tugging him against his side. Yoongi leans into him, smiling up at Jungkook as the Kumamon plush is handed to him. “Thank you, Jungkook,” he breathes. There’s something fond in his eyes, warm and glowing, that makes Jungkook’s knees feel a little weak.
“You’re welcome,” Jungkook replies, voice almost a whisper. They stare at each other and Jungkook wants to kiss him. He could, right now, just lean down and press their lips together. But he remembers Yoongi’s plastic smile, his stiff spine when that student had come up to him. He doesn’t want to be like that. Gently unwinding his arm, Jungkook offers a smaller smile. “We need to meet everyone soon, what do you want to do until then?”
Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice Jungkook’s tension, just glances around, the stuffed bear hugged to his chest. “Ferris wheel?” he suggests, nodding to the wheel towering over the park.
“Good plan,” Jungkook agrees, turning to lead the way. His fingers itch to take Yoongi’s hand.
The carts for the Ferris wheel are small, their thighs pressed together as they begin to ascend. Yoongi leans into his side a little, a warm weight against Jungkook’s body. When they reach the top, the ride stops and the amusement park sprawls before them.
Jungkook looks over at Yoongi, seeing his smile, his bright eyes fixed on the park below. He looks so happy, so content and cute. His eyes shine with the glow of the setting sun and Jungkook wishes he could capture this moment forever.
Blinking, Yoongi glances over, meeting Jungkook’s eyes. His smile softens and he lifts a hand, pressing it over Jungkook’s on the bar in front of them. He squeezes his fingers, just once, before his hand falls away again. Jungkook forgets how to breathe.
A short time later, after they’ve met up with their friends and exchanged stories of their adventures, they return to the cars. On the ride back, Yoongi drifts off, falling asleep on Jungkook’s shoulder. The flowers in Jungkook’s chest open wider and reach for the sun.
. . .
Once again, Jungkook can’t sleep. Though this time it’s not due to his roommate, who seems to have vanished into thin air. This time Jungkook is too excited. Or maybe nervous is the right word? In just a few minutes, it will be his birthday. Jungkook will turn twenty and…
It’s stupid, maybe, but he can’t wait to see Yoongi. He feels like he’s just as bad as the guys on campus, hoping for Min Yoongi to be his soulmate. Maybe he isn’t any better than those guys, but Jungkook believes there’s something between them. Something real and warm, something that gives him hope. He always feels it when he’s with Yoongi, like his skin has been sun warmed, everything smoothing out into steadiness, calm. Yoongi is sweet, Jungkook can tell he’s happy when they’re together too. It feels good together, they feel good together.
Jungkook blinks at his phone screen when the time changes, showing midnight. “Happy birthday to me,” he whispers. Now if he could just sleep, he’d be able to get through the night so he can see –
He freezes, sitting up at the sound of a knock on his door. Rubbing at his face, Jungkook peers curiously at the door, wondering if he imagined it. But then it comes again and Jungkook slides off his bed. Maybe it’s Hoseok, come to wish him a happy birthday right at midnight. That would be like him.
Jungkook swings open the door and it’s not Hoseok. Yoongi is standing there, in a fluffy baby blue sweater, holding a cake and smiling at him.
“Happy birthday, Jungkookie,” he announces, his eyes disappearing with the force of his smile. “I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday.”
Lifting a hand, Jungkook reaches to take the cake. “Hyung, you didn’t have to -” Jungkook cuts off, freezing when his fingertips brush Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi stiffens as well, eyes going wide.
“Kook?” Yoongi whispers.
Warmth fills Jungkook, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. The tingles are back, spreading from his fingertips and crawling down his spine. Jungkook’s heart swells in his chest, the flowers unfurling and blossoming, blooms filling him, making it hard to draw a breath. “You,” Jungkook gasps. Euphoria. Jungkook feels like he’s floating, or maybe melting through the floor. “It’s you.”
He steps closer and Yoongi doesn’t shrink back. His amber eyes seem to almost glow, alive with a crackling fire. “Jungkook, you…” he trails off, eyes widening further, lips parting in surprise.
Jungkook raises his free arm, lifting trembling fingers to touch Yoongi’s cheek. Yoongi blinks but doesn’t pull away, shifting almost imperceptibly to press into the touch. It feels like ecstasy. “It’s you,” Jungkook repeats. “I found you.”
Yoongi stares at him, eyes softening, looking almost teary. “You’re my…” he trails off, as if the thought is too much to say aloud.
“Yeah,” Jungkook replies. He can barely speak around the lump in his throat.
“I wanted it to be you,” Yoongi murmurs, a confession, a secret just for them.
Jungkook’s heart flips in his chest and he thinks he laughs, maybe sobs. “I knew it would be you,” he confesses. Something flutters to life in his chest, a flickering flame, that growing bud finally blooming. Jungkook takes a breath and it fills his lungs, it’s as if he’s never truly breathed before.
Yoongi is his soulmate. Yoongi, Min Yoongi, is Jeon Jungkook’s soulmate.
A smile sweeps over Yoongi’s face as his eyes sparkle with unshed tears. He leans further into Yoongi’s touch, cake still held between them. “Happy birthday, Jungkook.”
. . .
Despite being shoved deep into his pockets, Jungkook’s hands still tremble. He’s nervous, which he thinks might be a little silly. Maybe he went a little overboard, especially with letting his friends help. Hoseok had helped Jungkook choose his outfit, fussing over him and beaming at him, looking almost more excited than Jungkook. And Jimin, cooing over him as he styled his hair. The two of them clucking over him and kissing his cheeks before sending him off.
Jungkook feels like he’s overthinking this. It’s not like this is new, he and Yoongi hang out constantly, have for months. But this is different, because this is, explicitly, a date.
A first date with his soulmate.
Jungkook nearly stumbles when he crests the hill and spots Yoongi, sitting on a bench at their meeting spot. He’s in a denim shirt and tight, dark jeans, his blonde hair styled off his forehead. Maybe Jungkook isn’t the only one who put a little more effort in. Yoongi looks up and sees him and his smile blooms. Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest, his own smile growing unconsciously.
Yoongi waves and Jungkook hurries forward to meet him, only hesitating for a second before pulling Yoongi into a hug. Arms wrap around him immediately, Yoongi squeezing him tightly before pulling back. When Jungkook looks down at him, Yoongi looks a little breathless, smile shy and happy.
“Ready to go?”
“Ready,” Jungkook agrees, nodding toward the pathway and beginning to walk.
The café isn’t new either, it’s one they frequent together often. But now, as they sit across the table from each other with coffee between them, it feels much more intimate. Yoongi is leaning forward a little, stretching into Jungkook’s space. And beneath the table their legs brush, knees knocking together almost casually. Jungkook doesn’t pull away.
“And then Jimin leapt at him, I swear time slowed down,” Jungkook is saying, smiling as Yoongi nods along to his story. “Taehyung wasn’t even expecting it, he was practically facing the other way!”
Yoongi grins. “But he caught him?”
“Like it was natural!” Jungkook replies. “Just turned, arms out, caught Jimin in mid-air and continued talking to Namjoon like nothing had happened.”
Shaking his head, Yoongi takes a sip of his iced coffee. “They’re something else.”
“I know!” Jungkook agrees. “Then Jimin practically started eating his neck and Namjoon looked like he was going to die.”
“Is this what having a soulmate is like then?” Yoongi asks, a teasing edge to his voice.
Jungkook licks his lips, wondering what specifically Yoongi is referring to. Does he mean the sense of knowing just where your soulmate is? Dramatic antics? Or… make out sessions, in public or private. Jungkook doesn’t know, but warmth trickles down his spine at the thought of any of them, all of them. “Maybe,” he says finally, studying Yoongi’s face. “I’d catch you, you know.”
Yoongi’s smile is still teasing and he doesn’t look away as he takes a sip from his drink, pink lips pursing around the straw. “I know you would, Kookie,” he murmurs. Voice low, practically a purr.
God, Jungkook wants to kiss him. He feeds him a bite of strawberry cake instead, a slice they share, watching Yoongi’s lips close around the fork, watching him smile in delight.
It feels different, but much the same. And maybe that’s why it’s so easy to fall into conversation. To talk and laugh together, Yoongi’s wheezy laughter making Jungkook’s heart sing. It’s always been easy with Yoongi, always felt so natural. And now that Jungkook knows what the feeling is, he can embrace it, lean fully into it. And when Yoongi’s hand comes to rest on the table, Jungkook doesn’t let himself hesitate to reach out and link their fingers together.
This contentment and warmth when they’re together seems so obvious now. The warmth between them is clear for what it is. Their bond is so palpable that Jungkook thinks he was being willfully blind. Nervous to get his hopes up. But this is perfect, it’s everything. Being around Yoongi is warmth and sunshine, comfort and a slow, smoldering feeling welling up in Jungkook like growing embers. Love.
When their date ends, Jungkook walks Yoongi home, like he always does. But this time they hold hands. Their fingers tangle together, fitting like perfectly tied knots, puzzle pieces locking tight. The feeling of it, the warmth radiating from the touch, makes Jungkook feel like he’ll burst into confetti.
At the door to Yoongi’s building, Jungkook keeps him close by their clasped hands, watching Yoongi’s expression beneath the streetlights. He’s smiling, eyes dancing with happiness, with love.
“Hyung,” Jungkook begins, voice soft. “Will you be my boyfriend?” It seems silly, they’re soulmates. He shouldn’t need to ask Yoongi to be his boyfriend, shouldn’t need this title. But he wants it.
And Yoongi seems to want it too, if his growing smile and the tightening of his fingers mean anything. “Of course, Jungkookie.”
Gently, Yoongi tugs him in by their clasped hands. Despite the gentleness, Jungkook stumbles forward, nervous and unprepared. He catches himself with his free hand on Yoongi’s hip. Before he really knows what’s happening, Yoongi’s palm is on his cheek and he’s being pulled down, guided into a kiss.
Warmth explodes in Jungkook’s chest, the flowers around his heart burst with light and song. Yoongi’s lips are soft and sweet, slotting with his even more perfectly than their hands together. Yoongi smiles against his lips and Jungkook sees fireworks.
. . .
Jungkook sighs, shifting to tuck his arm beneath his head. He’s in Yoongi’s studio, curled up on the couch against the wall. Through his half-lidded eyes, he can see Yoongi in his chair, headphones on, intent on his work. Jungkook smiles, letting the quiet rhythm of Yoongi’s clicking and typing lull him into a doze.
They’ve been in the studio for a while, Jungkook stopping by with coffee and muffins. He was going to head to the library, leave Yoongi to his work, but that didn’t end up happening. Instead they ended up curled together on the couch, kissing until their lips were sore, wrapped tight together.
When Yoongi had finally extricated himself, saying he needed to work, Jungkook had whined and pulled him closer. A giggling Yoongi had dusted his cheeks with kisses, pressing a few more to his lips before Jungkook finally relented.
Jungkook’s lips still tingle in the most delicious way, a memory of Yoongi’s mouth on his.
The soft brush of lips on his forehead comes when Jungkook is half asleep. He scrunches his nose, slowly opening his eyes. Yoongi is there, crouching in front of him and smiling fondly. He reaches out, brushing Jungkook’s hair off his forehead.
“Hi, sleepy head.”
Jungkook smiles blearily and reaches out, pulling Yoongi’s hand down to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Time s’it?”
“Almost seven. Ready to go?” Yoongi asks.
Nodding, Jungkook pushes himself up until he’s sitting on the couch, Yoongi crouched between his knees. Yoongi leans in and presses their lips together, tingles and floods of warmth shooting down Jungkook’s spine. The tips of his fingers and toes prickle. “Walk me home, Jungkookie?”
. . .
The grogginess vanishes as they walk, the crisp air of fall waking him up. The seasons change and Yoongi changes too, bundled in scarves and big coats, beanies pulled over his golden hair. Crisp reds and pine greens, like a candy apple sweet on Jungkook’s tongue. Their hands are clasped together, fingers intertwined as their arms swing between them. Warmth flows between them, a captive sun pressed between their palms, radiating up Jungkook’s arm.
He tugs Yoongi a little closer by their linked hands, brushing his lips against his temple as they stop at a crosswalk. Yoongi smiles up at him, nose and cheeks pink from the cold.
When they reach Yoongi’s building, Jungkook leans in to kiss him, eyes fluttering closed. He freezes when a palm presses against his chest, holding him back. Confused, and a little hurt, Jungkook blinks his eyes open. “Hyung?” he asks, studying Yoongi’s face. “Is everything okay?”
Yoongi is smiling, though it looks a little tentative. “Yeah, I –” he breaks off, the pink in his cheeks growing darker, from more than just the cold. “Do you want to come up?”
Jungkook has been to Yoongi’s apartment before, alone and with their friends. He’s not sure why Yoongi looks so nervous, so - Oh. Oh. “Okay,” Jungkook breathes, heart skipping a beat.
. . .
This is, obviously, not the first time Jungkook has been in Yoongi’s apartment. He’s spent a lot of time here. They have movie nights often together or with their friends. Yoongi makes him dinner or they study together at the kitchen table. And Jungkook has spent a lot of time on the couch with his lips pressed against Yoongi’s. But this feels different, as Yoongi takes his coat and Jungkook removes his shoes. Something crackles between them, building into a dull roar beneath Jungkook’s skin.
“Do you want a drink?” Yoongi asks, hovering a few meters away. “Snack?”
Jungkook shakes his head, swallowing audibly. “I’m okay.”
“I want to put my computer away in my room.” Yoongi lifts his bag as if to demonstrate his intentions.
“Okay,” Jungkook replies.
Yoongi clears his throat and shuffles his feet awkwardly. “Do you want to come?”
“Oh.” Jungkook blinks then nods rapidly. “Yes. Yes, I want to.”
Smiling, Yoongi rolls his eyes and nods toward the hallway, turning to lead the way. Jungkook wipes his now sweaty palms on his jeans and hurries to follow.
As he steps through the doorway, Jungkook realizes that this is the first time he’s been in Yoongi’s bedroom. For all the times he’s been here, he’s never been invited into Yoongi’s room, never had reason to enter it. It’s done in shades of blue, pale blue walls, dark blue bedspread with baby blue and yellow pillows. Fitting, blue sky and sunshine. Warm and comfortable and just like Yoongi.
“I like your room,” Jungkook says lamely.
Glancing over from his desk, Yoongi smiles. “Thanks. You can sit.”
Jungkook moves to the bed and sits gingerly on the edge. The mattress is soft and Jungkook thinks it would be excellent to nap on. He watches Yoongi unpack his computer and plug it into the wall. When he’s done, Yoongi turns to him, standing a little awkwardly by the desk, hands fidgeting at his sides.
“Um,” Jungkook begins, but cuts off when Yoongi moves. He crosses the small distance between them and sits down next to Jungkook.
He shifts closer, their thighs pressing together, and lifts a hand, setting it on Jungkook’s knee. Jungkook slides his palm over Yoongi’s hand and smiles, leaning over to kiss him.
Yoongi meets him eagerly, halving the distance between him to connect their lips. It feels just as amazing as it always does, Yoongi’s lips are soft and pouty, so sweet. They fit so perfectly, heads tilting so their lips slot together.
It feels like a headrush every time, Yoongi’s lips, his sugar sweet mouth, pulling Jungkook in. It’s easy to deepen the kiss, turn it a little more heated. He licks over Yoongi’s bottom lip and Yoongi opens for him, blooming petal lips parting to welcome him. Jungkook angles himself closer, hand sliding over Yoongi’s waist as their tongues meet in a warm slide. Yoongi tastes like coffee and cinnamon muffins, candy on his tongue.
They’ve done this before, this is not new, though it’s always a little overwhelming. But never on a bed, never in such an intimate setting. Maybe it makes Jungkook a little bolder, the kiss deepening quickly, growing more heated. It’s easy, with this heat, this sudden boldness, to shift them on the bed, press Yoongi back into the pile of pillows. Jungkook lays him out on the mattress, Yoongi scooting up the bed, pliant beneath him.
Jungkook follows him, climbing over Yoongi and caging him beneath his body. Yoongi stares up at him, eyes hooded and bright. There’s a moment of hesitation and Jungkook wonders if he should ask if this is okay. But Yoongi seems to sense it and reaches up, winding his arms around Jungkook’s neck and dragging him back down.
The hesitation vanishes, heat returning. Their bodies press together and Jungkook swears he can feel the heat of Yoongi’s skin through their clothes. Warm and firm, soft skin that he wants to kiss and touch. Their tongues tangle together, mouths moving in an almost frantic press, deep kisses that steal Jungkook’s breath, make him gasp for air.
Craving more, the warmth and tingle of any touch between them, Jungkook slides a hand to Yoongi’s waist, slipping it beneath the hem of his sweater. Yoongi gasps against his lips as Jungkook’s fingers brush his bare skin, sliding over his hip and up his ribs. It feels like sparks where they connect, Yoongi’s skin is almost fever hot and so soft.
His thumb brushes Yoongi’s nipple and Yoongi arches into the touch, moaning into Jungkook’s mouth. And, oh, Jungkook wants to hear more of that. He pushes up onto his knees, kneeling between Yoongi’s spread thighs to stare down at him. His hands move of their own accord, shoving at Yoongi’s sweater to push it up, exposing his soft belly and then his nipples, pink and already peaked.
Yoongi shivers as his skin is exposed, whining softly when Jungkook slides his fingers over his chest, teasing over his nipples. He’s perfect, chest flushing a deep pink as he bites into his bottom lip.
“You’re beautiful,” Jungkook murmurs. The flush deepens, climbing Yoongi’s neck to stain his cheeks. “Can I take this off?”
Nodding, Yoongi lifts slightly off the bed, raising his arms so Jungkook can remove his sweater. So much beautiful pale skin revealed, milky white dusted pink. Jungkook wants to get his mouth on it, leave blooming pinks and purples on his neck and collarbones, decorate him in a pastel bouquet. “So beautiful,” he repeats.
“Kookie,” Yoongi whines, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Don’t.”
“Don’t hide,” Jungkook chides, gently peeling away Yoongi’s arm. “You’re perfect.”
Yoongi blinks up at him, looking a little overwhelmed. His lip is caught between his teeth again and he releases it slowly, hands sliding to Jungkook’s hips. His fingers slip beneath the hem of Jungkook’s shirt and Jungkook shivers at the touch. “Take it off?” he rasps.
Jungkook doesn’t need further encouragement, grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging it over his head. Yoongi’s eyes roam over his chest and he licks his lips. “You’re so hot.”
Laughing softly, Jungkook glides his hands along Yoongi’s skin, feeling his stomach muscles beneath his touch. “I call you beautiful and I get hot?”
“You are,” Yoongi argues. “You’re like - fuck, you’re like one of those marble statues.” He pokes Jungkook’s belly, finger pressing to the ridge of one of his abdominal muscles. “I think your muscles have muscles.”
Jungkook snorts and dips down, nudging their noses together. “This way I can catch you,” he insists, recalling the conversation from their first date.
Yoongi smiles against his skin, chuckling softly. “Charmer,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Jungkook’s jaw. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” Jungkook says immediately, nudging Yoongi’s head to the side to press his lips to the column of his throat. “Really okay. Can I…” he trails off, not entirely sure what he wants.
“Yeah,” Yoongi breathes, fingers carding through Jungkook’s hair. “Anything.”
Taking that for the invitation it is, Jungkook kisses along Yoongi’s neck to his collarbone, attaching his mouth to the pale skin. Yoongi hisses as Jungkook sucks and nips at the sensitive skin, pulling back to see a blooming bruise. “Pretty,” he whispers, before ducking back down.
This is something Jungkook could get used to. Yoongi beneath him, flushed and panting as Jungkook kisses every inch of his skin. He wants to do this again, daily, hourly, worship Yoongi like the perfect treasure he is. Show his boyfriend, his soulmate, how deeply he cares for him. Whisper love into his skin, nip and suck love letters into his chest, his thighs. A reminder that fades, just to be replaced with more.
Sliding down the bed, Jungkook settles between Yoongi’s legs, fingertips skimming along the waistband of Yoongi’s jeans. He can see the evidence of Yoongi’s arousal, the bulge against his zipper, nearly tenting the denim. Jungkook knows he’s faring no better, his own erection nearly aching against his zipper.
Yoongi groans when Jungkook’s palm slides over him, pressing into the heat of his erection through his pants. Jungkook squeezes slightly, feeling the outline of his cock, the weight of it. His mouth waters and he licks his lips, fingers tugging at the fastenings of Yoongi’s jeans.
He rolls his eyes up, finding Yoongi watching him with blown pupils, parted lips. “Still okay?”
“Please,” Yoongi whispers, voice hoarse already.
Jungkook obeys, tugging at Yoongi’s jeans and underwear to tug them down his thighs. His cock springs free, just as gorgeous as the rest of him. Long and thick, flushed pink at the tip, slit shiny with precum.
“Fuck,” Jungkook breathes, wrapping his fingers around Yoongi’s cock. Yoongi hisses, hips jumping at the contact. Every touch between them is heightened. Everything feels electric, so warm, nearly pulsing. He can only imagine how good it feels for Yoongi like this.
Lifting onto the elbow of his free arm, Jungkook licks his lips before pursing them, pressing a wet kiss to the head of Yoongi’s cock. Yoongi whimpers, hips twitching again, thighs tensing around Jungkook’s torso. He does it again, parting his lips to flick his tongue over Yoongi’s slit, taste the salty musk of his precum.
A groan spills past Yoongi’s lips and a hand tangles in Jungkook’s hair, tugging gently at his dark locks. Jungkook preens at the clear evidence of Yoongi’s enjoyment, his breathy panting and another dribble of precum from his slit. He laps it up, tongue licking over his slit and then over and around the head of his cock. When Yoongi is practically writhing beneath him, Jungkook finally fits his lips over the tip and suckles.
Yoongi’s fingers tighten in his hair, tugging almost painfully at his scalp. Jungkook slides down slowly, feeling the warmth and weight of Yoongi on his tongue. It’s perfect, Yoongi filling his mouth, hitting the back of his throat and making Jungkook moan around him. The taste, the feeling, everything dialed to eleven. Jungkook thinks he could probably come like this, just from Yoongi in his mouth, Yoongi whimpering above him.
There’s little finesse to his movements, Jungkook already feeling overwhelmed as he bobs his head. The sounds Yoongi is making urge him on, making him go deeper, faster, saliva spilling from his lips and dripping down Yoongi’s length. Messy and wet, the slick sounds of his mouth mixing with Yoongi’s low moans, his breathy gasps. Soft pleas for more, broken whispers of Jungkookie and baby that have Jungkook’s head spinning.
Jungkook rolls his eyes up again, nearly coming in his pants at the sight of Yoongi’s blissed out expression. His eyes are squeezed closed, eyelashes fanned across his cheeks and a furrow between his brows. His lips are parted and slick, tongue peeking from between his teeth as he pants, head thrashing side to side on the pillow. Lost in bliss, in the pleasure that Jungkook is giving him.
It doesn’t take much longer for Yoongi to come, his hips twitching, thighs trembling and clenching around Jungkook’s shoulders. “Kookie,” he whimpers, “gonna… gonna…” he trails off, tugging at Jungkook’s hair. But Jungkook doesn’t relent, just redoubles his efforts, hollowing his cheeks to hear Yoongi moan loud and broken.
Yoongi comes with a cry of Jungkook’s name, hips jerking as he spills onto his tongue. Jungkook swallows it down, lapping at the head of Yoongi’s cock to clean up the rest of his release. He only pulls away when Yoongi whines, tugging at his hair again.
Leaning up on his elbows, Jungkook licks his lips and peers up at his boyfriend. Yoongi is staring down at him with glazed eyes, lips red and kiss bitten.
“Come here, baby,” Yoongi purrs, hand sliding to Jungkook’s arm to tug at him.
Jungkook kicks off his jeans as he moves, slotting himself against Yoongi’s side to crash their lips together. Yoongi licks into his mouth, moaning as he tastes himself on Jungkook’s tongue. They tangle together, Yoongi’s hand sliding over his side, moving lower to palm his ass. Jungkook moans, cock throbbing in his boxers as he ruts against Yoongi’s hip.
“Wanna suck you off too,” Yoongi murmurs.
Jungkook whimpers, hips stuttering just from Yoongi’s words. “I won’t last,” he confesses. “I’m so… you just…” he trails off, whining softly.
“Okay, Jungkookie, it’s okay. What do you want?” Yoongi purrs, nuzzling against Jungkook’s cheek. “Tell hyung what you want.”
“Your hands,” Jungkook gasps, rolling his hips against Yoongi’s leg. “Please, love your hands.”
“Do you?” Yoongi purrs, rolling onto his side so they’re face to face. “Baby likes hyung’s hands?” he coos. “Want hyung’s fingers around you?” He nips at Jungkook’s jaw, hands sliding over Jungkook’s hips to push his boxers down. “In you?”
Jungkook whimpers, thighs tensing. “Hyung,” he whines, “please.”
“I’ve got you,” Yoongi murmurs, pressing his lips to Jungkook’s cheek as he frees his cock, wrapping his long fingers around Jungkook’s aching length.
It’s almost too much, the burst of sensation. Pleasure like he’s never felt before, just from the feeling of Yoongi’s fingers around his cock. Jungkook nearly cries, nearly crumbles into dust as Yoongi squeezes him.
“I’ve got you,” Yoongi repeats, dusting his cheek with kisses. “I’m here.”
Jungkook feels ridiculous, unable to stop whimpering under his breath. He just… he didn’t expect it to feel like so much. Every moment with Yoongi is bliss, every touch euphoria. But this… Jungkook doesn’t have words for how it feels, how Yoongi makes him feel.
And the way Yoongi touches him, hand moving slowly over his length. Gentle, just enough pressure, as if Jungkook is fragile and precious. The way Yoongi always handles him, like Jungkook is barely real. “I really like you, hyung,” Jungkook breathes. “So much.” He wants to say more, wants to tell Yoongi that he loves him, that he is everything. But Jungkook doesn’t know how to say it, not yet.
Yoongi’s hand pauses its stroking and he presses his nose into Jungkook’s cheek. He can feel Yoongi’s smile against his jaw, feel the warmth of it against his skin. “I know, baby,” Yoongi responds, resuming his ministrations. “I really, really like you,” he whispers.
Maybe that’s what pushes Jungkook over the edge. Or the combination of it all, Yoongi’s hands on him, his words a low purr, vibrating through Jungkook’s chest. He comes with what sounds almost like a sob, hips jerking as he fucks into Yoongi’s fist, coating his fingers in cum. Yoongi works him through it, whispering soothing words as he kisses along his jaw.
“There you go,” Yoongi whispers, “hyung’s got you.” A kiss to the point of his jaw. “Let go, baby.” A kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Jungkook’s head spins, crashing waves of pleasure washing over him, making him shiver and shudder as the aftershocks pass through him. As he comes down, Yoongi slowly pulls away his hand, reaching for tissues to wipe his fingers clean. Jungkook presses forward, burying his face in Yoongi’s chest and wrapping an arm around him.
Yoongi chuckles softly, resettling on the bed and pulling Jungkook close. He presses a gentle kiss to the crown of Jungkook’s head. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes squeezed closed. “It was… a lot.”
“Mhm,” Yoongi agrees. “Never… I’ve never felt like that before.”
Jungkook laughs softly, pulling away slightly to look up at him. “Me neither,” he confesses.
“I guess, you know, soulmate thing,” Yoongi chuckles.
“If that’s what soulmate things are like, I’m never letting you out of this bed,” Jungkook counters.
Yoongi’s chuckles turn into bright laughter, his shoulders shaking. Shifting, Jungkook presses him onto his back, rolling them so he can hover over Yoongi again. “Never gonna let you go,” he says.
“That a threat?” Yoongi challenges, his eyes dancing.
“Maybe,” Jungkook says, smiling. “Or a promise.”
Yoongi's arms wind around his neck, fingers sliding through his hair and tugging him down, their lips pressing back together in a sweet kiss. Warmth spreads to the tips of his toes, Jungkook bursting with light. Yoongi feels like sunlight, like the delicate spring flowers that bloom in Jungkook’s chest.
Yoongi feels like home.
. . .
Yoongi’s hand is a familiar weight in his own, a warm comfort as they sit curled together on the couch in Yoongi’s studio. Jungkook has his arm around Yoongi’s shoulders, the two of them cuddling close, fingers tangled on Yoongi’s thigh. Jungkook loves this, quiet moments when he can nuzzle against Yoongi’s temple, the two of them fitting together like puzzle pieces.
Music is playing over the speakers, one of Yoongi’s new tracks, lilting piano and, on top of it, Jungkook’s voice. Jungkook used to be embarrassed to hear himself singing, but he doesn’t feel that anymore. Their music fits together just like they do, a perfect harmony.
Yoongi turns into him, burying his face in Jungkook’s shirt and Jungkook can feel his smile against his shoulder. Jungkook leans in, burying his nose in Yoongi’s soft blonde hair, eyes fluttering closed.
As the track ends, music fading out, Yoongi lifts his head, gazing up at Jungkook through his lashes. “Do you like it?” he whispers.
“I love it,” Jungkook breathes. Yoongi is so close, he can count every one of his lashes, the freckles on his nose.
Yoongi lifts his hand to Jungkook’s jaw, fingertips sliding over his skin in a rush of warm tingles. He cups his cheek, pulling him down into a gentle kiss. “I love you,” Yoongi whispers.
“I love you too,” Jungkook murmurs against his lips. He can feel Yoongi’s smile as he draws him back into another kiss and sunlight bursts on Jungkook’s tongue. |
After the doctors took care of Ace’s bleeding once again, Zoro had decided to leave so he can tell Sanji and Usopp his new findings in Luffy’s love life saga. Sharing food... never thought he would see the day. Ace was then contacted by his work partner, Marco when he visited. Marco did inform him that it was the man they were trying to capture was the one who shot him in the chest when he was close to solving who the mastermind behind all the evil corruption going on. The man was a very,
very
, dirty and corrupt politician that had many many rings of illegal drugs and gangs. He was the mastermind behind all of them, while at face value upholding the law and made lies about all the good he will do if elected head of the World Government.
Hell, the guy even called the police on some of the crimes he orchestrated and “saved lives in the goodness of his heart”... a few of those actually had multiple people end up dead, including Thatch, a close friend to Ace before he was a policeman. Thatch worked as a police officer and just happened by a crime scene where he was killed trying to protect a citizen by Blackbeard, who recently confessed it was the politician who had hired him for multiple crimes for years. Confessed for a lighter sentence, what a joke. He should have ended up being on death row in Ace's opinion. Those years, crimes around the world were going on that had no link, until the young policeman Ace found tiny similarities that eventually were connected, wanting to look deeper into Thatch's death. It lead him basically everywhere. That's when h
e was chosen to go undercover and catch the guy across seas. Ace followed him back to Grand Line City, where he was shot. The guy was worried he was eventually being found out. Good thing the body cam on Ace’s body had night vision and was instantly uploaded even if the camera was destroyed, which happened during Ace being shot too close to point blank. An inch closer he would have been dead.
“Akainu” Ace said and growled, “That piece of shit, did you guys take him in?”
“Yep, he is being held in prison without bail” Marco said and smiled, “You did good Ace. I’m proud of you”
“I’m going to have to retire now, don’t I?” Ace said
“I’ll talk with the lieutenant” Marco said and sighed, “It would be a shame to lose someone as talented as you. Get some rest, I’ll come back later”
“Bye Marco! Tell Thatch I say hi!” Ace said happily and Mari nodded before leaving
“Well, I should get going. I should go to sleep as I’m still tired” Law said
“I’ll come too” Luffy said, “I’m tired too”
They were about to leave after they said their goodbyes and Ace looked at them both
“Not in the same bed”
“He has his own room!” Law said as both of them blushed
“Good, no funny business or you’ll face the wrath of a-” Ace said sitting up and falling back to his bed in pain
“Patient that doesn’t know when to stop from moving the fuck around!” Law yelled out.
Ace laughed out and so did Luffy. Luffy said his goodbyes for both himself and Law, as Law was still yelling, and dragged Law out to get the doctors to help Ace.
After everything, Luffy and Law went home. They were standing in the living room and were looking at each other
“Traffy? Thanks for saving Ace” Luffy said hugging him and Law hugged him back
“Of course, I am sorry I worried you” Law said and Luffy hugged tighter
“I don’t ever want to lose you” Luffy muttered in Law’s chest making the words inaudible to Law
“What was that?” Law asked and Luffy backed up with a toothy grin
“I don’t ever want to see you hurt” Luffy said happily, “Well let’s get to bed. I’m exhausted, so you must be way worse”
“Yeah… I’m more tired than the time we stayed up and played Monster Hunter Rise.” Law said yawning. “Good night Luffy”
“Good night Traffy”
Time Skip
Nothing much has happened for 2 months. Just some anime and manga catching up along with some of your same old playing Monster Hunter Rise. They finally got to the Allmother playing with Luffy, Zoro and Usopp with Ace being there to watch. This fight was the most vocal Law had ever been during any part of the game. Ace laughed loud at how Law was yelling during the fight. The monster’s electric attack was about to hit Law’s character and Law was yelling out a chant of “no!” as he ran away barely missing the hit
“Jesus Christ”
“Fully loaded. Figuratively and literally” Zoro said
“Gross” Law and Ace said
“Did you ever hear back from Smoker?” Law asked as he was continuing to fight
“Yeah” Ace said, “Had to actually get Garp to drag him from his office. The bastard blocked me”
“Was he surprised?”
“About me being ok with your registry?”
“Actually about your yell kink” Law said smirking and Ace blushed
“I hate you”
“Perfect”
“You say that to anyone who says they hate you don’t you?” Zoro asked and Law nodded
“To be hated because of trivial reasons is a great feeling. I know right in that moment that I’m the better person” Law said
“I hate you” Zoro and Ace said and Law laughed
“Perfect”
“Goddammit Zoro, the monster is over here!” Usopp yelled seeing his character run off
“Zoro’s direction sense has infiltrated the game, oh no!” Luffy said in laughter
“Fuck you, I’m getting an item!”
“Really? I just checked and the item is still there” Law said standing right next to his character. Zoro turned to him with a half glare and saw the doctor’s eyes glistening with smug playfulness.
“I like you” Zoro said, not giving into what the doctor wanted. Law looked taken back and shrugged
“Touché” Law said
“Guys! The battle!” Luffy said
“Right” both said going into battle and they lost as the last attack hit Luffy and his character fainted and their faint counter went to 0
“Sorry” Luffy said
“No problem” his friends said, instantly planning to go back into the fight and planning better how to fight the monster without failing.
“Guys, I’m confused about what happened, the item really didn’t disappear” Ace said as he’s watching the TV where Law was docked.
“We are playing with each other to defeat the same monster but I’m sure most of the items are available in each game. He grabbed the item, I didn’t pick it up so that’s why it didn’t disappear on my game” Law said
“Ah, that makes sense” Ace said and they finally all got ready with their weapons and armor and items. They finally killed the monster and finally won the battle
“Aww yeah, take that you egg laying bitch!” Usopp said and after one of the last cutscenes of the game later, they decided to stop playing. Zoro needed to go to meet Sanji after his shift for a date. Usopp mentioned meeting someone that might be his soulmate. Ace said him and Smoker had a date with Smoker
“That is a lie, Smoker has gone to that boring World Government conference” Law said showing a picture that Corazon sent him of himself and Smoker taking a selfie. Ace froze, “You also snuck out of the hospital, better get back before they find you’re gone”
“Shit! They’ll tie me to the bed again! I can’t let that happen” he said about to run
“No running!” Law said as he shut the door behind him and sighed, “Your brother is a handful” he said remembering him showing up at his doorstep saying how bored he was and to please let him watch them play games. It wasn’t lack of better judgment on Law’s side that let him stay, it was being pestered until he caved and let him in.
Luffy had a look of shock worrying Law that he did something wrong, “What?”
“We forgot that the anime convention is coming up! We need to prepare for it!” Luffy said and Law laughed knowing he should have expected something like this.
“Let’s prepare for it"
Time-skip
Law and Luffy were riding in the car as Garp was driving them. They were finally on their way to the hotel the anime convention was being held at. The same hotel they booked a room at.
“So are you two excited for the anime convention?” Garp asked
“Of course.” Law said as Luffy nodded his head. Both were smiling and excitement radiated off of them. Luffy was excited for the anime convention, sure, but he was more excited that Law was finally becoming more open about his love for anime and manga. Video games were a hit right away with Law becoming open about, but anime and manga did take some time throughout those months. Though he wasn’t really open to the extent of telling others, other than those who know, about it. Not even his coworkers know about it just yet. Just a final step that will take some time.
They were talking about anime and manga all the way to the hotel. As Garp parked in the drop off area, Garp turned to them with a smile
“I expect you two to get a lot of stuff!”
“Of course!”
Law and Luffy got their things from the car and got a bellhop that helped them place their things on a cart. They waved at Garp as he left. The bellhop placed a number on their cart and ripped off one number and gave it to Law. He explained how the number was for their things and to give it to those who will check them into the room so they can give the right cart to the room. Law thanked him and he and Luffy walked off into the direction of the check in line.
“This is so exciting! Are you excited!? I’m excited!” Luffy said, expressing his excitement by hopping slightly. Law smiled at the obvious bubbliness and cuteness that was Luffy.
“I am too” Law said as he couldn’t help but feel the same excitement bubble in his gut as the line was getting shorter. Soon they will check in their room to settle in and then he would finally experience his first ever anime convention
TBC
|
Things had—unsurprisingly—not gotten easier for San after the party. Ending the night in a backyard with Wooyoung’s lips so close to his, pushing a puff of smoke into his open mouth was a stupid choice that he wanted to blame so badly on the alcohol consumed that evening, but he couldn’t lie. If he hadn’t brought Wooyoung a drink to accompany their smoke session with Yeonjun as they watched the fire pit slowly turn to ash, San would have immediately been called out by his best friend, accused of being the least fun version of himself. Luckily, Wooyoung didn’t suspect anything suspicious from the evening, giggling and soaking up all of the energy he could by being with his favorite people.
Taking care of a hungover Wooyoung the next day was even worse, his roommate beaming at San’s retelling of his dance moves on the house’s coffee table while simultaneously complaining about not getting a proper amount of water into his system quick enough. After forcing Wooyoung to take a few aspirin for his aching head, San found some leftovers in their refrigerator to reheat, spending the rest of the day doing their favorite low-key activities like video gaming and falling asleep to random YouTube videos. It was relaxing and easy, a day San was thankful to have as he didn’t particularly enjoy overanalyzing every single interaction he had with his roommate on a daily basis.
Regrettably for San, others did remember the party a bit better than Wooyoung. Yeosang seemed to enjoy reminding San that he had in fact gawked at his best friend thrusting his hips on some rickety hand-me-down coffee table in the center of the living room, embellishing the scene by adding that he swore a bit of drool slipped out of San’s mouth and down his chin as he watched. Knowing that Yeosang was mostly harmless and really just enjoyed holding something over his head, San kindly asked him to keep it to himself, arguing that yeah, duh— everyone was watching Wooyoung, not just him. Maybe San also offered to buy him lunch at his favorite restaurant near campus to shut him up, but no one could really prove that fact.
Once the usual school week was back in full swing, San thanked his lucky stars for the return to routine. Classes meant projects, reading and tests, a full plate that didn’t allow him room to lose himself down a self-reflective rabbit hole where he would force himself to come clean about his own thoughts and feelings. Yeah, okay, he had promised himself he would think about what he had been feeling, come to terms with it, blah blah blah. But wasn’t it easier to ignore the obvious, to admit that he, Choi San, was just a horny college student with a very attractive roommate who was also his best friend?
Maybe San wasn’t ready for the truth.
“You’re suspiciously quiet today,” Yeosang observed, eating another piece of chicken from the large platter in the center of the table. Unluckily for San, the blond had taken him up on his offer to pay for his silence towards the end of the week, bringing along another mouth to feed. Mingi was a welcome addition in San’s book as he assumed Yeosang may avoid unnecessary conversations with a third-party present. With his eyes focused on his own food, San pushed the contents of the plate around, offering a shrug in response.
“Just a long week,” San replied. “This part of the term sucks.”
“Right!” Mingi eagerly agreed, shoulder knocking into Yeosang’s smaller frame unknowingly. “I’m so busy that when I have a free moment I wonder if it’s only because I’ve forgotten to do something else.”
“Hasn’t that usually been the case?” Yeosang deadpanned, watching as Mingi’s enthusiasm slipped into a pout.
“I’m with you, Mingi,” San offered his support with a soft smile, not missing the slight roll of Yeosang’s eyes as he took a sip of cola.
“I’m sure you’ve been busy in more ways than one,” Yeosang commented offhandedly, the tone easily missed by anyone not in the know of San’s inner turmoil. “ Lots to think about.”
“It certainly doesn’t help,” San gritted through his falling grin, eyes darting back to Mingi as if to say we have company, please be courteous. “I’m sure I’ll relax during the weekend.”
“You know, you could always join me and Yeosang tomorrow night,” Mingi smiled, Yeosang’s entire composure breaking into a subtle panic that San was unfamiliar with. “He’s coming over and I’m making him his favorite meal. There will be enough for—”
“Mingi,” Yeosang interjected firmly, voice straining as his fingers gripped his glass a bit tighter. “I don’t think we need to invite everyone. No offense, San.”
“None taken?” San raised an eyebrow, watching as Mingi simply shrugged and Yeosang took a deep breath before relaxing his posture. So wrapped up in his own hellish thoughts, San wasn’t sure what had developed between Yeosang and Mingi—maybe he had missed a chapter or two—but he suddenly felt more evenly matched with the older, more comfortable in his secrets being kept at least for a little while longer.
“Anyway,” Yeosang plastered on what some would have considered a normal smile, expression tugging a bit too tightly at the corners of his mouth, “I’m sure you’ll get through it. We all will.”
With a nod, San sat back and let out a deep breath, closing his eyes as his meal settled.
“I hope so.”
***
Yeosang was wrong.
San was never going to get through it.
Even though they were roommates and everyone assumed they were always attached at the hip, San and Wooyoung were pretty good at living their own independent lives, cohabitating the apartment in their own separate ways. Spending time together happened naturally, the burden of initiating time to hang out never needing to fall on either man. Unless their apartment was filled to the brim with friends and lively conversations, it offered a tranquil, even if slightly disorganized, escape from the daily problems of a college student.
That was before San couldn’t stop fantasizing about railing Wooyoung into another dimension.
Unlike the cliches San was used to, the last thing he wanted to do was avoid Wooyoung. Why would he want to stop seeing the person who made his heart do a weird twisty thing in his chest when he’d walk by? San wasn’t fearful of what Wooyoung could do to him, but rather what Wooyoung’s presence could conjure inside of himself. San settled on treating his issues with a makeshift version of exposure therapy—the more he saw Wooyoung in a normal, controlled environment, the more he could sort out his personal desires.
Right?
After making it through most of the week unscathed by the outside world, San hunkered down at his desk with a bottle of tea, working on a report that wasn’t due for another week. Channeling any jittery feelings into his coursework had proven fruitful for his academics, so San decided to make the most of it until he found a better outlet for his emotional constipation.
“What are you doing?”
San looked up from his desk, Wooyoung’s wide grin peeking around the corner of his door frame. His hair was unstyled and flat against his forehead, a large hoodie engulfing his narrow frame. For some reason, it felt like San hadn’t seen Wooyoung in weeks, months or even years and all he could do in that moment was stare.
“Um,” San cleared his throat, internally reckoning with himself that it was just fucking Wooyoung. “Work.”
“Booooooring,” Wooyoung sing-songed, waltzing inside and plopping his behind on the edge of San’s mattress. “What am I supposed to do, entertain myself?”
“Is that all I am to you?” San chuckled, swiveling his chair to face his friend. “Your little performer who splits the monthly rent?”
“Shut up,” Wooyoung crossed his arms against his chest. “I know we don’t have any crazy party plans or whatever but maybe we could watch a movie?”
“Yeah,” San nodded, standing up as he shut his laptop. “I could go for that.”
“Awesome,” Wooyoung smiled, standing to follow San out of the bedroom. “Sometimes I wonder if you’d just keep yourself in there all semester long if it weren’t for me.”
“I literally went to lunch with Yeosang and Mingi the other day,” San countered.
“Yeah and by the way, thanks for the invite,” Wooyoung exaggerated his actual hurt, clutching at his chest as he giggled at San’s reaction. “But really, that was between your classes. You were already out of the apartment, does it actually count as getting out?”
“I saw another human being that wasn’t you,” San shrugged. “It counts.”
“So sorry that I’m just a natural part of your daily existence,” Wooyoung paused at the kitchen counter, appearing to ponder that thought. “Wait, no. Not sorry. You’re welcome.”
San snorted as he opened their sad excuse of a pantry, rummaging past the stash of instant noodles to find the lone bag of microwavable popcorn to make for their snack. Wooyoung took on his usual task of fetching drinks, placing them on their side table in the living room. Once the popcorn was ready, San emptied the bag into a large bowl to share, heading over to the couch. As he placed the bowl down, San reached for the remote, quick to snatch it away as Wooyoung had moved to grab the device at the same exact moment.
“Hey!” Wooyoung shouted. “It’s my turn!”
“What do you mean ‘your turn?’” San laughed. “You always pick!”
“But I suggested watching a movie so I get to pick,” Wooyoung explained, speaking broadly with his hands. “That’s how it works.”
“If I had known you were going to insist on picking, maybe I would have said no,” San held the device closer to his chest as Wooyoung attempted to pluck it from his hand. “Did you think about that?”
“Of course I did,” Wooyoung circled San’s body as the older continued to hide the remote. “Why do you think I waited until this exact moment to tell you?”
“Brat,” San teased, the word feeling funnier in his mouth than usual.
“And proud of it,” Wooyoung giggled, pouncing on San’s back from behind, wrapping his arms around his defined waist. “Gimme!”
As San’s game of keep away rapidly dissolved into a light wrestling match, the pair crumpled into the couch cushions, the remote seemingly forgotten as each man strived to pin the other down in order to claim victory. Wooyoung’s large sweatshirt made it easy for San to hold onto him, keeping him in place with a fistful of fabric. The younger man was a bit more crafty, unafraid to poke San’s cheek, armpit or stomach, the giggles overriding the physicality of the interaction. As Wooyoung’s open jaw moved to bite the other’s upper arm, San’s reflexes kicked in at the right time, finally finding enough strength to get Wooyoung’s back completely flush with the length of the couch, arms crossed above his head on the arm of the sofa, San’s hands keeping his wrists securely in place. With one knee on either side of Wooyoung’s hips, San stared down as the other kept laughing, gulping back the urge to act on provocative needs.
“You know,” San began in a low timbre, “I could get used to you like this.”
“What?” Wooyoung asked, laughter slowly beginning to soften in volume. “Always up for a fight?”
“No,” San shook his head, keeping his hands on Wooyoung’s arms in case the other got any crazy ideas to try and shake himself loose. “Ready to surrender.”
“In what universe do I look like I’m ready to—”
San knew the best way to shut Wooyoung up was physical action, letting his body lower enough for his hips to make contact with the other’s. He hadn’t noticed Wooyoung getting worked up during their short duel, but San knew his arousal would be obvious to anyone standing near the pair. With a subtle press forward, San grinned to himself as he felt Wooyoung getting just as hard, trying to bite back a whimper.
“I don’t know, Woo,” San sighed, smirking at the look on Wooyoung’s face as he slowly rocked his hips back and forth. “It seems like you’re easily swayed.”
“You’d like to think that,” Wooyoung groaned, out of both annoyance and regretful enjoyment of the friction against his pants. “Stupid.”
“Hm?” San stilled the movement of his body against the boy below him, watching as Wooyoung winced at the loss of contact. “What did you call me?”
“You want me to say it again? Fine,” Wooyoung smirked, facing straight up at San. “ Stupid.”
Dipping down to wipe the shit-eating grin off of Wooyoung’s face, San connected their lips roughly, a messy kiss full of teeth and tongues. He hated to admit it, but Wooyoung lived up to his big talk, able to meet San’s fervor and energy easily even with limited mobility under San’s grasp.
“Feisty,” San commented, beginning to move his body against Wooyoung’s once again. “What am I gonna do with you this time?”
“Whatever you want,” Wooyoung barely whispered, eyes cast off to the side.
“What was that?” San asked, one hand pushing Wooyoung’s bulky hoodie up his body to reveal more of the smooth skin for San to ogle at dumbly.
“Don’t,” Wooyoung protested with a pout, “don’t make me say it again.”
“Youngie,” San purred, fingers delicately brushing against one of Wooyoung’s nipples under the gathered material. “I’m never gonna let you go if you can’t do what I say.”
“Fine,” Wooyoung sighed. “I said… I said whatever you want.”
“Ah,” San smiled contently, a bit too sweet for their position. “Just what I like to hear.”
To finish his initial movement of the other’s clothing, San moved his other hand from Wooyoung’s wrists, allowing him to completely take off the sweatshirt that had become an obstruction to his plans. Removing his own shirt next, San offered another deep kiss as he clumsily moved from his position on the couch, needing to pull down Wooyoung’s pants and underwear without his own weight stopping him. Before returning to his previous position, San kicked off his own, smiling at Wooyoung as he straddled him once again.
“You stayed,” San observed, not missing the quiet scoff from the man under him.
“Like I said,” Wooyoung emphasized. “Whatever. You. Want.”
“How did I get so lucky?” San replied, pressing a kiss to his lips before trailing his mouth down his jaw. As he relished each of Wooyoung’s breathy sighs, San let his hand wander more south, gently wrapping his fingers around the other’s hardening length. Wooyoung’s Adam’s apple bobbed as his sighs turned into a groan, San’s wrist lazily dragging up and down as they kissed again. They always had their playful fights but getting Wooyoung to become so pliant under his touch was San’s favorite part, the energy shifting and blood rushing straight to his own dick.
“There’s nothing I love more than seeing you like this,” San hummed, moving to press a kiss behind Wooyoung’s ear as if others may be able to learn the secrets he only wanted the other to hear. “Unresisting, like you can’t help but be so weak for me.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Wooyoung teased, rolling his hips in rhythm with San’s fist.
“Hm?” San moved his hand, letting Wooyoung’s abdomen thrust into nothing, a regretful whine slipping from his lips. “Maybe you should be quiet.”
“But—”
“Whatever I want, right?”
With a bitter scowl, Wooyoung pressed his lips firmly together, moving his torso with all of his core strength to bump into San’s waiting hand. Figuring that the lack of a verbal answer meant that Wooyoung was willing to bite back any sarcastic remarks for the remainder of the evening, San graciously returned his hand to the younger’s cock, resuming the familiar pumping motions. Quiet for Wooyoung didn’t include hiding his obvious enjoyment of the situation, small gasps and soft moans bountiful as San continued to work him up. Moving his hand only for a short moment to wet it with his own tongue, San added the extra moisture to lessen the friction, plotting his next move.
While it would be easier to move their fun to one of their bedrooms, San wasn’t sure how long he’d last with the sounds Wooyoung was already making, making an executive decision to help himself along as well. With one hand, San held Wooyoung’s arms above his head once again, shifting his hips up to align with Wooyoung’s crotch. San leaned down enough to direct a pool of saliva from his mouth down onto the area where his own dick made contact with Wooyoung’s, using his free hand to spread the fluid around. Doing his best to fit his fingers around both of them at once, San tugged a few times to ensure there was enough slip between their bodies, letting his other hand join his right to hold Wooyoung in place.
“Please,” Wooyoung sighed, breaking his promise of silence. “Move?”
Happy to oblige to the man under his control, San rocked his hips forward, testing to see if all would go according to plan. With his cock pressed against Wooyoung’s between their bodies, San hissed at the slight pressure from the position, snapping his body forward again. That time, it was Wooyoung who whimpered loudly, returning the motion as well as he could under San’s weight. The movement felt elementary and a bit haphazard, but the sensation of skin on skin as they continued to rut against each other in search of getting off made San’s head fuzzy with pleasure.
“Is this what you like?” San asked, muttering under his breath as he felt the sweat pool on the back of his neck. “Me, giving you everything you could ever ask for?”
“Y-yes!” Wooyoung cried out, head pressed back into the arm of the sofa. “Like it so much, like you so much…”
“Don’t stop,” San managed to spit out between groans, the pace even between both of their bodies. Even with San’s hands losing their grasp on Wooyoung’s arms, the younger stayed in position, able to match the man above him movement for movement. As San’s fingers slipped down to use the edge of the couch as leverage, Wooyoung looped his arms around San’s neck for support, whining as his climax was near.
“Make me come,” Wooyoung moaned, as demanding as he could be in his current position. “Sannie, please—”
“Wooyoung,” San sighed, grunting with each stuttering thrust, heat pooling deep in his abdomen as he—
“Sannie?”
Closing his gaping mouth and giving his head a quick shake, San didn’t have a chance to register the position he was still in before Wooyoung had his hands under his shirt, beginning to tickle him mercilessly. With a delayed laugh, San squirmed under the touch, shrinking back into the other corner of the couch as they laughed together. Hoping that his body hadn’t physically reacted the way it had the last time he imagined him and Wooyoung fucking in the apartment, San attempted to sit up, thwarted by Wooyoung removing his hands from his sides to pin San against the cushions, staring down at him as they both seemed to catch their breath.
“Give up,” Wooyoung demanded playfully, all smiles with a glint of something more evil in his eye. “Let me pick.”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” San narrowed his eyes, trying his best to remain playful as the lingering thoughts from his mind fluttered away slowly.
“Not only would I like that, but so would you,” Wooyoung tried to persuade him, putting additional pressure onto San’s arms, the position totally not a turn-on to the older man.
“I would?” San quirked his lips, egging on the other. “Why’s that?”
“Well,” Wooyoung faux pondered, taking advantage of the stage San had set for him. “You always like what I pick, even when you say you don’t. You don’t have to worry that I might not like what you pick, which seems to happen a lot.”
There was a pause. Pauses were never good.
“And because you love me.”
Ugh, San winced internally. Don’t remind me.
“Fine,” San caved, unsure of how much longer he could remain caged into the corner of the couch under Wooyoung’s weight. Fearful of his body reacting to the situation any more than it already had, San wriggled out of Wooyoung’s hold, offering the television remote as a truce. “Don’t say I’ve never done anything nice for you.”
“Finally!” Wooyoung stood up, holding the device in the air like a trophy. “We haven’t rewatched Order of the Phoenix in like, a hundred years.”
Sighing as he tried to hide his adoring smile, San resituated himself on the couch, retrieving the blanket from behind it that had slipped off during their tussle. After Wooyoung had successfully selected the movie from the navigation on screen, he joined San where he usually did, sliding himself under the blanket, moving San’s arm to tuck himself under the older’s shoulder where he would remain for the rest of the evening. With a satisfied hum, Wooyoung grabbed the popcorn, beginning to snack as the movie played.
If San was an honest man, he would have forced his line of sight away from the action taking place on the screen in front of them to look at Wooyoung, asking if he could confess something that had been weighing heavily in his heart. Unfortunately, San was a bit of a coward, a procrastinator in figuring his own self out, letting his problems seep into every aspect of his life. Until he could deal with the guilt that came from imagining the sordid scenes that appeared in his mind so easily, San resigned himself to his own misery, trapped between his nasty incessant thoughts and the familiar warmth of Wooyoung’s affectionate presence.
San heard Yeosang’s half-hearted reassurance echo somewhere unreachable in his head, taunting him more than he would’ve liked to admit.
I’m sure you’ll get through it.
|
Draco moaned against Harry’s lips. The pregnancy hormones were definitely encouraging Draco to keep kissing Harry but he knew they had things to talk about. Harry swept his tongue inside Draco’s mouth momentarily distracting him. Draco had missed Harry so much these last few months, his smell, his taste, the sound of his voice, and the feel of his hands on Draco’s body. But Draco knew nothing was going to be solved with sex.
Draco reluctantly pulled back and placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders and lightly pushed back.
“Harry we can’t.”
Harry looked at him with lust filled green eyes, “Why is that Draco? You want me, I want you. Come back with me and we will figure it out.”
“Harry, it’s not going to magically solve anything if I just move in with you. I don’t want that.”
Harry made a frustrated noise “What do you want then Draco? Because I am having a pretty hard time figuring it out. First you hide that you’re pregnant from me and then I find out Oliver Wood has been taking you out?”
“Oliver is stable, kind, and dependable Harry. He actually WANTS to marry me.”
Harry’s eyes flashed and he moved away from Draco. “I’m not the marrying type Draco. You knew that when we started this.”
“Well you said you weren’t the father type either!” Draco said heatedly. “So I don’t know why you’re so shocked I wouldn’t tell you about the baby.”
Harry’s expression grew cold, “I still deserved to know. That child is mine Draco, and like it or not, you are too.”
“I’m not yours Harry. I’m just a great fuck remember?” Draco spat the words out.
Harry’s eyes flashed and he leaned closer to Draco. “That’s right baby. You’re a great fuck and we both know I could have you under me again in two seconds.”
Harry reached out and lightly grabbed Draco’s wrist to pull him closer. He kissed Draco’s neck and murmured “you smell so good.”
Draco felt a flash of heat at the touch of Harry’s lips on his neck. He knew he should push the brunette away but it felt so good. Their interlude was interrupted as the car came to a stop. Draco looked up at Harry.
“I’m not trying to keep you from our baby Harry. But, I am not looking to be just another one of your toys. It’s time to grow up.”
Draco got out of the car as Mark opened the door and walked towards the doctor’s office. Draco heard the other door closed and felt Harry’s body heat as he came up to walk next to him. They walked through the sliding doors and Draco smiled at the receptionist.
“Hi, how can I help you?”
“Hi, I am Draco Malfoy here to see Dr. Granger. It’s my 6 month checkup.”
“We got you right here. You are all set you can head on up.”
“Thank you.”
Draco and Harry headed towards the elevator. Harry put his hand on Draco’s back as they walked into the elevator. He shot Harry a look and moved away.
“No need to be all gentlemanly now Harry.”
Harry looked down at him. “I’ve missed touching you.”
Draco didn’t know what to say. The look on Harry’s face was unguarded and he looked lost. The elevator dinged before he could form words and they stepped out onto the 5thfloor. They crossed the hall to suite 22 and entered into the office.
Draco watched Harry’s face as he took in the flower pictures around the room and the waiting room full of pregnant men and women. Draco stifled a giggle at how uncomfortable Harry looked. Draco spotted two empty seats and headed over there with a reluctant Harry following.
They sat and Draco leaned over to speak quietly to Harry. “Too many pregnant bellies for you huh?” Draco teased.
Harry looked down at him and smirked, “I wouldn’t want anyone to be overwhelmed by my sexy body and go into labor.”
Draco rolled his eyes but laughed and Harry joined in. Draco had always loved this side of Harry, the fun, easygoing guy.
“Somehow I think the babies will manage to stay in there.” Draco said in a dry tone. Harry just continued to grin.
“Oooh!” Draco gasped and reached to hold his stomach.
“What is it Baby?” Harry asked in a concerned tone.
“Oh no, it’s okay. Just a really strong kick. Here, feel.” Draco took Harry’s large hand and placed it over his rounded belly. Harry’s hand felt warm and their baby responded by kicking right where Harry’s hand was. Harry looked shocked and looked at Draco.
“Does it do that all the time?!”
Draco giggled. “One it’s a baby not an it Harry and yes our baby moves around quite a bit.”
Harry just kept looking at Draco’s belly with a look of awe. He was lightly rubbing Draco’s stomach which he didn’t seem to notice.
“Amazing.” Harry said in a quiet voice.
“Draco Malfoy?”
Draco and Harry looked up as a petite nurse called out his name.
“That’s me!” Harry helped Draco up and they made their way over to the nurse.
“Hi Draco, nice to see you again and who might this be?”
“Hi Cho, this is the father of my baby Harry.”
“Welcome then! Let’s head right on back.”
Harry and Draco followed Cho as the went to the exam room. After weighing Draco, taking his blood pressure, and asking all the routine questions Cho said the doctor would be in to do the ultrasound.
Draco sat on the exam table and watched as Harry paced around the room.
“Are you nervous Harry?”
“I don’t know…. I just feel a little weird at the doctors.”
Harry never talked about it but Draco knew his mother had been sick for a while before she died. Draco felt sympathy for Harry as he realized being at the doctor probably brought all that back. Draco reached out his hand to Harry.
“Come here.” Harry took the hand Draco offered and let himself be pulled in.
“I want you to get a good view of our baby.”
Draco knew that things weren't perfect between himself and Harry but he wanted to try to have this be a positive experience for both of them. He still loved Harry, and even if they were never together again he always would. Draco laced his fingers through Harry's larger ones and smiled.
Maybe this baby would change Harry for the better.
*******************************************************************************************************************
Harry stared down at Draco’s small hand laced in his. The door opened and a woman with very curly hair and a nice smile came in.
“Hello Draco, how are you feeling today? I see you brought someone this visit.”
“Hi Dr. Granger, I have been feeling okay. This is Harry, he’s the baby’s father.”
“Well, I see why you were waiting to find out the sex then. I am glad to hear you are feeling well. All your lab work and vitals look good. We will just do a quick ultrasound, print some pictures, and get you two out of here.”
Harry just watched as the curly-haired doctor turned on the monitor and picked up the wand. “Draco if you can just lift your shirt for me, the gel is a little bit cold, but then we will see the baby.”
The doctor squeezed the gel onto Draco’s stomach and placed the wand over it. Harry watched in amazement as images started to show up on the screen.
“Alright, gentleman everything is looking good so far. Everything looks right on track for development. Are you two ready to know the sex?”
Draco looked up at Harry and they nodded. They both looked at the screen as Dr. Granger said “and….we have a baby boy.”
Harry wasn’t even aware he was squeezing Draco’s hand as he absorbed the news. He was going to have a son. Harry James Potter was a father. It felt surreal.
Harry was in a daze as Dr. Granger and Draco finished up the appointment. Luckily, Draco was still letting him hold his hand or he didn’t know how he would have made it out of there.
Harry helped Draco into the car and then went around to his side. He slid in the seat next to Draco and just stared at the blonde.
“Where to sir?” Mark’s question snapped Harry back to reality. They might be having a child but things were far from right between him and Draco.
Before he could answer Draco said “118 Lovett Drive.”
Mark looked to Harry for confirmation. Harry scowled but nodded.
“Draco…. I meant what I said. You and the baby belong with me.”
“Harry, the only man I will be moving in with is my husband or my future husband. You may be the father of my baby but that doesn’t give you the right to control my life. You hurt me Harry, and acted like an ass. I haven’t forgiven that.”
Harry stared down at the small blonde. “I only have so much patience Draco. Do you think I am just going to passively wait around while Wood tries to get in your pants? He is nothing baby, and we both know he will never please you the way I can.”
Harry couldn’t help but touch the smaller man. He cupped Draco’s cheek and put the other hand lightly around his neck. “We both know you like it rough baby. Ollie’s too nice for that.”
Harry leaned in to kiss Draco. The blonde moaned and wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry might not do love but he could do this. He knew how to make Draco moan and beg for Harry to fuck him. They could figure out having a kid together, as long as Draco was with Harry it would be fine. He would show the blonde man that.
Their kiss grew heated and Harry moved the hand from Draco’s neck down his chest, over his rounded belly, and felt Draco’s erection.
“You want me baby?” Harry planted kisses on Draco’s cheek as he moved his mouth towards the blonde’s neck.
Draco let out a breathy sigh, “Harry” and threaded his hands through Harry’s hair. The blonde pulled Harry back to him for another kiss. Harry lavished Draco’s mouth with his tongue and finally felt the tightness in his chest ease. He had felt this weight on him ever since the night Draco left, but now the blonde was back and Harry wasn’t going to let him go again.
Harry squeezed Draco’s hard cock and stroked it over his pants. His hand glided up to the stretchy waistband and he slipped a hand inside. Draco moaned again as Harry’s hand touched his naked cock.
Harry pulled back and whispered against Draco’s lips “such a naughty boy for Daddy, not wearing any underwear.” Draco thrust his hips towards Harry’s hand. Harry chuckled and pressed his lips to Draco’s for another kiss.
Harry knew it aroused the blonde when he talked dirty. They had always had an intense sexual connection. Harry was Draco’s first and he intended to be the blonde’s last.
Harry didn’t even stop to think what that meant for a him with Draco’s desire for marriage and Harry’s aversion to it but, he wasn’t willing to examine it right this moment.
Harry continued to stroke Draco’s cock and moved his other hand under Draco’s shirt to one of his hard nipples.
Draco gasped as Harry stroked a finger over the stiff bud. Harry pulled back slightly to look at Draco,
“Sensitive baby?”
Draco flushed but nodded.
“Does it feel good?” Draco nodded again. Harry moved to replace his hand with his mouth on Draco’s tight nipple.
“Harry!” The blonde gasped and pressed his head back against the seat while hips started to move desperately.
“Are you going to come for Daddy?”
Harry watched as the blonde tensed and then climaxed. Harry continued to stroke Draco’s cock until the blonde slumped back into the seat.
Harry chuckled and grabbed a tissue from the console. Mark had respectfully put up the divider when he saw them kissing. Harry did pay the man to be discreet.
Harry wiped Draco’s cum off his hand and then wiped the blonde’s rounded belly. After he finished he stared at Draco as the blonde sat with his eyes closed, relaxed. Draco really was beautiful. His white-blonde hair was only slightly mused and his long blonde eyelashes lay on his cheeks. Their son would be beautiful, Harry thought.
The car stopped and Harry looked out as they reached Parkinson’s house. He didn’t want to let Draco out of his sight.
The blonde opened his eyes and smiled sleepily. “Baby and I need a nap now.” Draco smiled down at his belly as he rubbed his hand over it.
“Draco…..” Harry didn’t complete his thought as the door opened. Pansy Parkinson stood there.
“Draco! I thought Potter had kidnapped you.”
“Pans, I told you I had a doctor’s appointment.” The blonde said dryly as he got out of the car. Harry watched as they moved towards the entrance. He got out and called after “I won’t give up Draco. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Draco looked back at him and smiled. “Bring chocolate.”
|
Zagreus gets out of the blood pool and glances at his hand. The bandage is gone, as well as the cut. His cheek isn’t hurting, either. He almost regrets the loss; the warm feeling he got when the brothers were treating his cuts reminded him of how he felt when Nyx would kiss his forehead and tell him he was brave, and it made him kind of miss being a child. He thinks he needs to thank Nyx for making his childhood a happy one.
Nyx isn’t in her usual place, though, so Zagreus goes to get a snack. He hopes for something other than fish this time, but no luck. The Chlams in hot sauce are pretty good, though, so he isn’t complaining.
“Someone once told me, long ago, when I was secretly seeing the Winchesters when that person didn’t want me to, that I stunk of Impala,” he hears behind him just as he’s finishing his plate. “I didn’t get it back then, but I can see now. There’s a very distinctive air around you. You’ve seen them, haven’t you?”
“I have,” Zagreus replies. “Hello, sir.”
“Hello, Prince Zagreus. How are they?” The Shade no longer looks like his heart is shattered in a million tiny pieces. Instead, he just looks sad, with that deep, all-encompassing sadness Zagreus sometimes sees in especially lonely Shades. It used to be how Patroclus looked, before Achilles was allowed to go see him.
Zagreus is suddenly very interested in the leftover sauce on his plate. Not just because such sadness is as painful to see as the heartbreak it came from, but also because if he keeps looking, he might try to make Castiel feel better. And he can’t do that, not until he’s done with his task.
“They’re all right,” he says. “Gave me ‘pizza’ and ‘beer’. One is good, the other— acquired taste, they said. I haven’t acquired it yet.”
Castiel huffs. “They really enjoy that beverage. From what I’ve heard, not even the best kind.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Zagreus says. “But pizza is good.”
“Zagreus,” Castiel says. “Jack talked to me. He told me what you are trying to do for me. Thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” Zagreus says, embarrassed with the depth of sentiment he hears behind the Shade’s words. “Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s not ‘nothing,” Castiel says, accompanying the word with air quotes. “It’s taxing, uncomfortable and potentially very dangerous. So, thank you. I have nothing to give you in return, but I can, at least, offer my gratitude.”
“You’re welcome.” What else can he say?
“The Empty is a very dangerous and unpredictable adversary. Be careful.”
“I always am,” he promises. He is, isn’t he?
---
“So, I talked to Castiel today,” he tells the Empty after greeting them properly. “He told me you’re dangerous. I suppose he’d think that way, wouldn’t he, seeing how you were supposed to be the instrument of his demise, right?”
The Empty doesn’t reply.
“Oh, we’re back to silent treatment? Okay. I’m sorry I’m annoying you again. But that’s all the plan we have right now, so— sorry? I’m gonna keep talking.”
Silence.
“I told the Winchesters I think you’re a ‘they’. They seemed a little surprised. Then I told Dean he’s the father of their god, and he hadn’t realized that before, so I think I broke him a little. Why is it so hard for them? Humans are strange, don’t you think?”
Nothing, again.
“I see. Okay. Well. I—” he thinks of something else to say. “I’ve talked to Lernie today. I mean, I talked, Lernie listened. Lernie is actually a pretty decent listener, I’ll have you know. Doesn’t listen for too long, but always replies, unlike Bouldy, though Bouldy is friendlier, of course, and never insults me, unlike Theseus, though Theseus is probably funnier, I suppose. Did I tell you about Theseus? I kind of like his friend, Asterius, the minotaur. He’s not bad, but very loyal to Theseus, and that one is such an asshole, you have no idea. I really don’t like him, I don’t think we could be friends even if we had a dozen bottles of Ambrosia together. So, probably a good thing we don’t have to be friends, right? We can just kill each other and be done with it.”
Nothing.
“Empty? Are you there? Listen, I’m sure you’re nice— or, at least, I’m perfectly sure you’re much nicer than Theseus, although that’s not much of a compliment, I guess, sorry. But say something? I liked talking to you last time.”
Nothing.
He decides to take another approach, even though he really, really doesn’t like the idea.
He gets loud.
“Heeeey!” He yells. “Anybody here? Hellooooo! Talk to me! I’m here!”
That, surprisingly, helps.
The familiar image of himself appears right in front of him and grabs him by the front of his tunic.
“How dare you?” They hiss. Almost like Lernie, but with words. “You come to me, you wake me up, you demand my attention, you return over and over again just to make me lose sleep, and now you wake my inhabitants! It’s so loud now! And I need my sleep!”
“I know, I know,” he tells them, trying not to be bothered with how violent they suddenly are. He should have expected it; that’s what he wanted, after all, a reaction. “I’m sorry! But I need you to talk to me! We need to do something about Castiel, he can’t come back here! It’s not fair! You have to let him go!”
“No,” they say, and let him go. It sounds final.
“Please?” Zagreus asks, without much hope.
“Do not come back, unless you want to stay here forever,” the Empty threatens. “You will not enjoy the stay.”
Zagreus knows for sure (well, almost for sure) they’re empty (hah) threats, but he still shivers just a little.
And then he starts vanishing.
---
In the bunker, he drops onto something soft. A nice improvement after a floor, a chair and a bunch of glass shards. He opens his eyes. Evidently, he’s fallen into a bed, and now lying across it, on top of the blankets.
The brothers are nowhere in sight, so he decides to stay where he is. He’s dizzy and it’s comfy; seems like a perfect combination.
“Dear Fates, you’ve been so nice to me so far,” he says. “Can you please arrange so that I end up on a bed every time I get here from the Empty? Since, you know, the bunker has beds, so it shouldn’t be too hard? Or, well, if that’s too much to ask, then half of the time? I’d really appreciate that. Thank you.”
He’s sure the Fates can hear him. They always can.
Some time later — minutes or hours, he can’t tell, but probably not days, because he hasn’t managed to stay topside for days yet — he forces himself off the bed and goes to look for the Winchesters. It seems impolite to stop by, sleep in their bed and not even say hello.
He’s met with a cute tiny dog.
“Oh, hello,” he says. “What’s your name? I’m Zagreus! It’s nice to meet you!”
The dog barks.
“I’ve never seen a dog like you,” he tells it. “Well, granted, I haven’t seen any dogs who aren’t Cerberus. And you’re so cute! Do you like pats?”
He tries patting the dog. It sniffs his hand with suspicion, but allows it. Seems like it enjoys pats as much as the hellhound’s left head.
“You like it, don’t you?” Zagreus asks. “I can see you like it, it’s great! We’re going to be the best of friends!”
He offers the dog a bottle of nectar, and is thanked by an enthusiastic tongue on his nose.
With the dog in tow, he explores the now-familiar rooms of the bunker, one after another (the unlocked ones, anyway), in search for his hosts. The rooms are empty and nobody answers when he shouts.
After a bit, he feels it’s getting a little harder to breathe.
“It’s okay,” he tells the dog. “It’s normal for me, don’t worry, I’ll be back! I’ll say hello from you to Cerberus, I’m sure he’ll be pleased! And you say hello to Sam and Dean from me when they come back, okay?”
The dog barks. Zagreus decides that means ‘okay, deal’.
---
Climbing out of the blood, he remembers that last time he wanted to talk to Nyx. He says hello to Hypnos, waking him from his slumber again (at least he doesn’t threaten him, unlike some beings), pats Cerberus and tells him about the tiny dog (he seems mildly interested), ignores his father’s threatening glance, compliments Orpheus on his and Euridice’s newest song (it’s even more amazing than their last one) and goes to Nyx’s corner.
He’s got a bottle of Ambrosia for her.
“Listen, Nyx, I just wanted to tell you,” he says, “how grateful I am to have you in my life. I know you probably didn’t expect to have to care for a part-human child, with red blood, bruised knees and all, but you still did a perfect job. So, thank you.”
“It was truly my pleasure, my child,” she replies, accepting his gift. “It is true that I never knew how to care for red-blooded children before you came into our lives, but it was a blessing and an honor.”
“It’s been a blessing and an honor for me, too,” he says.
She smiles.
He doesn’t know how things will turn out with his birth mother; he hasn’t seen enough of her to figure it out just yet, but he knows that whatever comes next, he has a real mother in Nyx. He can see how that could be enough.
---
For some reason, this time he lingers in the House a little (okay, a lot) longer than usual. He doesn’t like to think it has anything to do with the Empty’s threats, but the alternative would be having a bad feeling about his next run, so he decides to believe that’s the case.
He stops by the lounge to have a few words with Meg, tracks down Dusa next to the archives, gives Than a long kiss, catches up with Achilles and even eats a whole plate of fish. Then he spends an unknown, but definitely long amount of time patting Cerberus; it always annoys Father, so that’s a bonus.
Then he goes to his room and fiddles with the mirror, trying to pick the best possible combination of perks. He ends up with the one he had before he started, because this is far from the first time he’s done it.
Then he beats Skelly up with every weapon he owns. The guy is overjoyed to have some action, Zagreus can see it in his empty eyes. The skeleton taunts and mocks and teases, and Zagreus obliges him and picks weapon after weapon. How can anyone be so happy taking a beating to the death? That’s beyond Zagreus, but whatever, he won’t judge.
After he finally, reluctantly, jumps out of the window, he dies in Tartarus twice in a row. That’s where he begins to suspect the Fates don’t want him to go, this time. Or probably he doesn’t want to go, himself, sometimes it’s hard to tell one from the other.
But he knows there’s no other way, so he keeps going.
He gets past Elysium with no death defiances left. He knows that’s a bad omen, but what does he need those for, anyway, if they don’t work topside? |
Loyalty and Limerence
Part 3
Chapter 11
The Citadel
“
Vasir
?” Garrus exclaimed in shock, the image of her bloodied and battered face on Illium leaping to mind. “What are you doing here?”
“My job.” The smirk vanished from the asari’s face as she fired. The assassin ducked at the same time, barely missing the shot as he rolled out of the way. Tela Vasir thrust her fist out, a biotic shockwave exploding outwards and knocking him back.
“Who the hell is that?” Shepard exclaimed as they stumbled backwards.
“She’s an… old friend of Jane’s.” Garrus fumbled over the words as he struggled to dredge up any memory of what had become of Vasir after their fight on Illium. “She’s a Spectre.” He added after a moment.
“I see.” Shepard narrowed his eyes before hurrying forward to usher the salarian councilor into cover. Garrus watched as Vasir and the Cerberus assassin traded blows, the latter drawing a long sword as he crouched down low.
“Who the
hell
brings a sword to a gunfight?” Vasir spat as she raised her pistol and fired off a series of shots, forcing him to dance backwards. He darted forward, striking like a snake, but she brought up a biotic barrier in time, causing his blade of bounce backwards in a spray of sparks.
Garrus brought his rifle back up and loaded a concussive round. He took aim and fired, catching the assassin hard in the chest and sending him flying backwards, despite his powerful shielding taking most of the damage. The man scrambled to his feet and turned to regard them with increased wariness.
With an angry sneer, he turned suddenly and vaulted over the low wall before disappearing over the edge. Vasir watched him go, seeming to consider running after him. Instead, she holstered her sidearm and strode toward where Shepard stood with the Councilor.
“Are you unhurt?” She asked bluntly as she examined Valern, completely ignoring the rest of them. He nodded as he dusted himself off, and Shepard turned to Garrus with a questioning look.
“What are you doing here, Vasir?” Garrus asked, his voice hard as he vividly remembered the burning sensation of biotics against his throat. “I thought Jane had you arrested and transferred back to stand trial for what you’d done.” Vasir turned to him with an amused smile as she shrugged.
“It’s amazing what can be excused while in the line of duty,” She stated as she raised a brow at him before looking back to the Councilor, “Isn’t that right, sir?” Without waiting for an answer, she pulled up her omni-tool and continued, “Let’s get you to a safehouse before any other freaks with knives show up.”
Vasir roughly grabbed the Councilor under the arm and began directing him toward a side door. After a few steps, she stopped and turned back. “Vakarian.” She called back, causing Garrus to freeze as he checked his heat sink. “If you see Shepard – the
other
Shepard – Tell her I owe her a rematch sometime!” She grinned, but there was no warmth in it as it failed to reach her eyes. Turning, she led the Councilor away without another word.
“Come on, we’re wasting time here. We need to find Udina and the rest of the council before it’s too late.” Shepard called out as he turned to head down the nearby set of stairs to the shuttle landing. He pulled up short, “Mordin! Thane!”
Garrus came up alongside where Shepard stood to see the two hurrying up the stairs toward them.
“Already begun securing building, I see. Good. Will continue clearing out HQ, assist in recapturing key strategic locations.” Mordin checked his pistol before nodding to Thane.
“Shepard,” Thane muttered as he breathed in deeply, attempting to catch his breath, “We just saw a single Cerberus agent escaping, he looked like he came from up here.”
“Which way did he go?” Shepard asked sharply, and Thane pointed off into the distance.
“He hopped into a waiting skycar and headed off that way. There’s a single c-sec vehicle down below if you need to give chase.”
“
He must be going after the rest of the Council.”
Bailey swore over the comm, and Shepard started down the steps at a fast trot.
“Get the word out – Udina’s trying to seize power. I’ve got to get to the councilors.” The team followed him down the steps, and as he reached the single skycar, he turned back to face them. “Garrus, EDI, with me. The rest of you, assist Bailey in securing HQ.” They nodded before splitting up, and Garrus followed as Shepard leapt into the driver’s seat with EDI right behind him.
“
They’re being taken to a shuttle pad on the Presidium. Start driving – I’ll try to raise them on the comm.”
Bailey said as the skycar booted up and Shepard guided it out into the open space of the Presidium.
“
It is highly likely that the Cerberus agent that eluded us is already enroute. We should hurry.”
EDI murmured as Shepard accelerated. There was a ping from Shepard’s omni-tool. “
Bailey has sent us the Council’s current location, I’ll upload the position to the car’s nav program.”
Looking down at the holo display, Shepard nodded. “Perfect. We’re not far, it shouldn’t take lo-”
There was a jolt as something heavy landed on the skycar’s windshield. Garrus looked up into the smirking face of the partially masked Cerberus agent from before.
“Shit!” Shepard hissed as he struggled to right the skycar. The agent stood as he pulled out his sword. Garrus shifted in his seat and pulled out his pistol. He took aim and fired off a few shots through the windshield as the agent widened his stance, raising his sword to strike. He stepped backward to avoid the shots as they punched through the glass, then he darted toward the back of the vehicle. Garrus could hear the footsteps above them.
“Hold it steady!” He yelled before popping the side door open. Looking down, Garrus could see the ground and water zipping by below him, the force of the wind threatening to rip him out of the skycar. He swallowed before bracing himself and wondered if courage was one of the Normandy spirit’s virtues. He muttered a quick prayer, for whatever good it would do.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself out far enough, whipping around to aim his pistol at the man standing upon their skycar’s roof. The agent raised his sword in preparation to thrust it down into the roof, but stopped as he noticed Garrus.
He fired off a burst of shots, but the agent’s hand came up as he activated a powerful barrier. Cursing, Garrus pulled himself out a little further, gripping the skycar tightly. The other man raised his sword up, preparing again to drive it down into the body of the vehicle, but in doing so, he shifted his barrier, and Garrus saw his chance.
Taking quick aim, he pulled the trigger, catching the man’s hand and knocking the sword away. It spun as it left his fingers, whipping backwards as it plummeted toward the water below. The agent screamed in pain and pulled his bleeding hand close to his chest before turning to sneer at him, his barrier still active.
“Ah, Garrus Vakarian, yes? Jane Shepard’s little pet turian.” The agent spat with derision and disgust. After a pause, the sneer morphed into a vicious smirk that sent alarms peeling through Garrus’ head. “Give her my regards when you join her in hell!”
Alarm turned to dread and panic in Garrus’ stomach. “What did you do to Jane? Tell me!” He demanded in a furious roar as he heard the sound of his heart hammering in his ears. The other man didn’t respond, but spun quickly and dropped his barrier just long enough to raise his uninjured palm and send a blast of energy smashing into the skycar’s engine. Garrus raised his pistol to shoot, but it was nearly knocked out of his hand as the car lurched. He held on for dear life as Shepard yelled something he couldn’t quite hear.
Turning back to the Cerberus agent, Garrus cursed as he watched him shakily stand and launch himself off the back of their burning skycar. Another vehicle had pulled up alongside them, its door opening to allow him aboard. He turned to flash Garrus a smug half cocked smile before the door shut and it raced off.
Red hot anger and hate coursed through Garrus, and despite EDI’s insistent hands trying to grab hold of him, he leveled his weapon on the escaping skycar. Shepard was bringing their burning car down for what would inevitably be a hard landing, but Garrus steadied his aim as best he could.
He pulled the trigger, once, twice, then a third time. Whooping triumphantly, he watched as flames erupted from the agent’s skycar, and it quickly began losing altitude as well. Garrus pulled himself back into the car just in time.
“Hang on!” Shepard yelled over the sound of alarms blaring as warning displays flashed. Garrus’ teeth smashed together painfully as the skycar clipped the top of a building and he braced himself as the ground loomed ever nearer at an alarming rate.
The world exploded in pain and noise as the skycar smashed into the garden of a public shopping district. The world slowly started to resolve itself as Garrus groaned and shook his head.
“
Is everyone alright?”
EDI asked from the backseat, seemingly unphased by the crash landing. Garrus heard Shepard grunt noncommittally. Carefully, they began extracting themselves from the wreck, stepping down into pure chaos.
Civilians screamed as they ran from bouts of gunfire, and a siren blared overhead as fires burned everywhere. Garrus blinked as he tried to regain his bearings, but the assassin’s parting words returned to him in a rush like a brick to the head.
Give her my regards when you join her in hell!
Hurriedly, he pulled up his omni-tool and attempted to raise Jane on the comm again, but got nothing but static. “Damnit!” He cursed, feeling his chest tighten to the point of pain. She had to be okay, she just had to be.
“
Shepard?
” Bailey’s voice buzzed, “
My instruments say your car’s stopped.”
Garrus wanted to roll his eyes. Understatement of the century.
“I’m on foot now.” Shepard growled as a team of Cerberus troopers spotted them from across the clearing. “Any luck contacting the Council?” The three of them darted into cover as they pulled out their weapons.
“
Negative – their guards are dead.
” Garrus felt his blood chill and his chest tightened further. Would Jane have rushed to protect the Council at the start of the attack? Could she already be-
Focus
.
You can’t help her if
you’re
dead.
“
We’ve still got vital signs on the Councilor’s transponders, though.”
Bailey added after a pause.
“Where are they going?” Shepard asked as they opened fire on the oncoming enemies.
“
They’re heading toward the shuttle pad above Shalmar Plaza. Udina’s with them.”
He paused before adding, his voice low, “
If the assassin catches up with them, it’s all over
.”
Shepard’s face set with determination before motioning them to push onward.
“On my way.”
Shepard slid to a stop before the elevator door as it closed, obscuring the assassin’s smirking face.
“Goddamn it!” The Commander smashed his fist into the door, anger radiating off him in waves. Garrus cursed under his breath, urgency thrumming through his veins as the assassin’s words continued to replay through his mind. They needed to stop him and protect the Council, and Garrus needed answers.
“
Over here.
” EDI called out as she moved to the other elevator. “
Cerberus has jammed the controls, but perhaps Bailey can be of assistance.”
Noting the lack of holo display to open the door, she moved to begin forcing the doors open by hand. Garrus stepped in to help, and together they got them fully open.
“
There should be an elevator just below your position. If you can hop on top, I can activate it, and you can take out the power conduits on the assassin’s elevator. That should slow him down a bit.”
Bailey explained as Shepard activated the flashlight attachment on his shotgun. Looking down, he nodded as he saw the top of the elevator just below them. Without further ado, he lept down.
“Okay, I’m in the shaft.” He reported as EDI jumped down after him. Garrus felt unease creeping down his back, cold as water running down his spine. He knew
exactly
how fast these elevators were, and riding
atop
one did not sound like a particularly good idea. Steeling himself, he followed the others.
“
Hang on, this will be a fast climb.
” Bailey muttered, and Garrus knelt down to grab a firm hand hold.
Fast
would be an understatement…
The elevator shot upwards, jamming them down against the roof violently. “Holy hell!” Shepard gasped as he struggled to keep his footing without dropping his shotgun. Looking up, Garrus saw nothing but darkness in the nearby shaft.
“I hope they’re not too far ahead of us.” He said, causing Bailey to chuckle darkly.
“
You’re pretty far behind, but I’m making his elevator stop at every floor.”
“Ha! Nice.” Shepard barked a sharp laugh, and EDI murmured her approval. Moments later, something came into view above them in the next shaft. “I see our friend!”
Without hesitating, Garrus whipped his rifle up and took aim. Two quick shots and two power conduits exploded. The other elevator appeared to drop like a rock as theirs shot past it.
“Good riddance!” Garrus spat as he grinned triumphantly.
“Nice shot.” Shepard nodded to him, and they rode in anxious silence for a minute until Bailey’s frustrated voice interrupted their thoughts.
“
Shepard! Bad news.”
“Is there any other kind?” The Commander groaned, and Garrus’ mandibles flicked.
“
That hitman jumped to another elevator, and he’s overridden my controls. He’s on his way up, I can’t stop him
.” Shepard moved carefully toward the edge of their elevator and glanced down in an attempt to get a look.
“
On our right. Elevator, incoming.”
EDI confirmed, and Shepard checked his heat sink.
“I’ll handle it.”
“Here they come!” Garrus yelled out as the elevator began catching up with them. Shepard took aim, and as it passed them by, he quickly took out the power conduits. Once again, their elevator shot past the other. “Perfect.”
“
Okay, you’re coming up on the Councillors' elevator. I’m going to try to pull you up alongside them and match their speed. You’ll be able to jump across and drop down through the access hatch.”
Bailey explained, and Garrus could feel himself blanch.
“You’ve asked me to do a lot of stupid things over the years, Shepard, but this might take the cake.” He grumbled, and Shepard flashed him a half smile before bracing himself. A moment later, they were coming even with the next elevator.
“Get ready… jump!” Shepard called out before leaping across. He rolled with a loud
crash
before grabbing a handhold. A second later, gunshots burst through the roof from below, and Shepard just barely rolled out of danger in time.
The gunshots stopped, and the other elevator abruptly began slowing down. In a panic, Garrus quickly leapt across, followed by EDI. Shepard was searching for the access panel as the elevator finally came to a stop. There was the sound of hurried footsteps below them as Garrus found the panel. They scrabbled around looking for the latch, but Garrus finally gave up with a growl.
Standing, he brought his foot up and smashed it down onto the panel hard, causing it to bow and then finally buckle. “Go, go!” He exclaimed as it gave way, and one by one, the three of them dropped down into the empty elevator.
“This way!” Shepard sprinted onward down the hallway and through a door, but skidded to a halt as he came out onto an open air landing, his weapon raised but his mouth open.
“John?”
Garrus felt his heart leap at the voice as he came to a stop beside Shepard. His eyes took in the sight of Jane, alive and seemingly uninjured, her pistol raised as she stood between them and the three councilors behind her.
“Jane!” He called out in relief, and her eyes widened as she slowly lowered her weapon. Behind him, he could hear the door control beep as EDI quickly locked it.
“Shepard’s blocking our escape!” Garrus’ attention was ripped from Jane’s face as Udina cried out, “He’s with Cerberus!”
“Stand down, Udina!” Jane snapped as her brows drew together in consternation. Her eyes narrowed as they flicked between the three of them before landing on her brother. “John, what’s happening here?” Her pistol came up slightly, not pointed directly at them, but at the ready.
Shepard lowered his own sidearm as he stood a little taller. “You know what he said isn’t true, Jane. You know me better than that.”
“Then what is going on, exactly? Why did you break into our elevator?” Jane asked, her face tense and her body tightly wound and ready to move. Garrus thought back to the worries she’d confided to him before they’d last parted, and realized where her thoughts must be leading.
“We don’t have time for this. You’ve been fooled, all of you.” Shepard explained as he took a careful step closer. “Udina’s behind this attack. Valern confirmed it.” The accusation rang out, bold and unafraid, even over the explosions and gunfire on the landings far below. Jane turned just enough to shoot a hard look at the human councilor. “Jane,” Shepard’s voice was softer as he implored his sister to listen, “You
have
to believe me.” After a moment, Udina scoffed and sneered at Shepard.
“Unlike you,
she
is a professional. Isn’t that right,
Spectre Shepard?”
Udina snapped as he crossed his arms in disgust. “She knows her duty and doesn’t jump at every harebrained accusation with no proof. She’s less easily fooled than
some people
.”
“Udina…” Tevos, the asari councilor, stepped forward to place a gentle hand on his shoulder, “We have no reason to distrust Shepard. It was less than wise to do so in the past, as we have learned.” Udina turned to sneer at her before shrugging her off.
“Well, we’re either about to be shot dead by him and his team, or we’re going to be sitting ducks standing out here in the open. Either way, I’m going to unlock that door so we can get the hell out of here.” He snapped before turning and walking toward a nearby console.
“Wait a minute, Udina!” Jane called out as she threw up a hand, gesturing for him to stop, “Let’s get to the bottom of this before we-”
“There’s no time!” Shepard exclaimed as he gestured to the elevator behind him, “There are Cerberus soldiers in the elevator shaft behind us. If he opens that door, they’ll kill us all!” Jane’s eyes widened and Tevos quickly hurried after Udina.
“Please, Udina.” The asari murmured carefully as she brought a hand up to prevent him from accessing the terminal, “I’m sure the accusations against you are either overblown, or there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. Please, just step away from the console, and we can-”
“To hell with this!” Udina spat as he pushed her hand away roughly. He began typing at the console, at which point Jane began hurrying toward him as well. Tevos grabbed his arm again as the door lock flashed to orange, the controls asking for confirmation before unlocking. Udina turned to shove her, sending her crashing hard to the ground, and a breath later he stood above her, a gun trained between her eyes.
Garrus’ blood ran cold as everything seemed to slow. He rushed to bring his gun up, fighting the sluggishness of shock in his limbs.
“Shit!” Shepard hissed from beside him.
A sharp
crack!
echoed off the Presidium’s walls and blood sprayed. Udina’s eyes stared in blank shock as he fell to his knees. He slumped backwards to splay awkwardly across the red splattered floor. Before him stood Jane, her sidearm still raised and trained upon his chest. Everyone remained where they were, breaths held in reverent, shocked silence. Like a pricked balloon, the tension seemed to drain out of each of them, the lead weight of reality settling upon their shoulders.
Jane let her hand drop to her side, her eyes never leaving the dead man lying at her feet, even as Garrus and Shepard ran toward her. Sparatus, the turian councilor, offered a hand to Tevos, pulling her up as EDI stepped over to check on them both.
Shepard stepped around Jane, pausing for a moment to look at her with an empathetic eye as he squeezed her shoulder. He then knelt down to feel for the pulse they all knew wasn’t beating through Udina’s veins.
“Jane, thank the spirits you’re all right…” Garrus trailed off as he reached her, noticing the torn look on her face as she continued gazing down at the body before them. “He’s the one behind this entire attack. He deserved what he got, and then some.” He muttered, the faces of dead colleagues swimming before his eyes.
“I know. It’s just a fucking shame it had to come to this.” Jane sighed before finally looking away and holstering her weapon. “I’d always hated him, he was such a fucking asshole. But when the Reapers arrived, I don’t know. He seemed to have his head on straight, he was so focused and driven to do what needed to be done. He actually seemed to care, and I thought maybe I was wrong about him. But for all of
that
to end like
this
,” She shook her head slowly, “It’s a fucking shame.”
Garrus opened his mouth to reply, but was caught off guard when she suddenly flung her arms around him and pulled him in for a tight hug. He quickly holstered his own weapon before wrapping his arms around her as well. It felt damn good to hold her after so long apart. It felt as though a missing part of him had finally been returned.
“How do you always seem to find yourself in the thick of all the trouble? You’re like a magnet or something.” Garrus chuckled as they both stepped back, and Jane flashed him a crooked smile.
“You know? It might just be a special talent of mine.” Jane muttered, but turned away as Shepard called out for them to move the councilors to safety. She seemed about to continue, but everyone froze as the sparks erupted at the base of the locked doors nearby.
They turned, weapons raised, as the burning line of sparks traveled up the seam. Jane and Garrus moved to stand before the two remaining councilors as EDI and Shepard positioned themselves closer to the doors.
Garrus swallowed. They were clear out in the open, no cover, no escape. What was that phrase James used that one time? Ah, yes… They were going to be
like fish in a barrel
. He gripped his rifle a little tighter.
The door sprang open, and Shepard drew back in surprise as he lowered his weapon. “Bailey?”
“Spirits…” Garrus felt the tension evaporate to be replaced with a slight weakness in his knees. Ignoring the unsettling sensation, he lowered his own weapon as he watched the C-Sec officers step out onto the landing.
“Huh.” Jane glanced about before taking a few quiet steps out toward the burning skycar nearby. “Everything's gone quiet. The gunfire and explosions have stopped.” Garrus blocked out the sound of Shepard’s conversation as he stepped up behind her.
“You’re right. Is Cerberus retreating now that their plan to assassinate the Council has failed?”
“Jane! Garrus!” They both turned to look back at Shepard as he called out to them, “Come on, we’re going to help C-Sec with evacuating the councilors and securing the rest of the station!”
They exchanged a look before hurrying to catch up.
“Ha.” Garrus scoffed at James’ latest ridiculous tale before taking a sip of his drink, the lights flashing overhead not enough to dispel the dark atmosphere currently prevailing in the Purgatory bar on the Presidium. “The Alliance teach you to make up crap like that, or did you figure it out all by yourself?”
It had taken nearly twenty four hours for C-Sec to confirm that the Citadel was secure and free of Cerberus. Or, at least, as far as they knew. A few days later, there was finally an attempt to force things back to normal, but the days of pretending the war didn’t exist on the Citadel were officially gone.
“It’s a gift.” James replied with a self satisfied nod of his head from where he sat beside him on the next bar stool over. He glanced at Garrus before lifting his drink a tad in recognition. “You’ve been through a lot, Scars.” He acknowledged as his brows rose. They’d been exchanging stories, each trying to one up the other for at least the last forty five minutes, and Garrus had to admit, the younger man had some impressive ones.
“You giving up?” Garrus asked with challenge in his voice. But instead of rising to the bait, James’ eyes fell to the bar top.
“Nah, I got more. Just don’t like to talk about it.” His voice was subdued, and Garrus nodded in understanding before taking another sip of his drink. He wasn’t sure which number drink this was, but he was definitely starting to feel it.
“Fair enough… We’ve all got one of those.” James looked up at him at that, a single eyebrow raised.
“Just one, huh?” He asked sardonically, and Garrus shrugged.
“Not every story has a happy ending.” In a flash, he could hear the explosions and screams as his best friend died over Alchera. He could see ten body bags in rows in an old Omega apartment, and ten names carved into his visor. He could count the cold, dead bodies of old co-workers and friends littering the floors of C-Sec headquarters. A dozen other scenes flashed before him that he wished he could forget, but never could.
Garrus threw back the rest of his drink.
“Except,” James murmured thoughtfully, the hint of a smile on his face as he motioned to the barkeeper for another refill, “there was this one time I teamed up with a turian named Garrus Vakarian.” He said thoughtfully before grinning. “He was pretty good with a gun, but he thought he was some kind of hotshot.”
Garrus snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I knew this wise-ass marine named Jimmy Vega-” He, too, gestured for a refill as he tried to hide his own grin, “-Sounds like a pole dancer on Omega, I know. He always got on my nerves. Buuut-” He paused, his face softening before he continued, “the kid was alright. Had guts when it counted.”
Garrus thanked the barkeeper as he was handed his new drink, and James took the opportunity to raise his glass aloft for a toast. “And together, they cured the genophage.” He declared so solemnly that Garrus wanted to burst out laughing. He lifted his own glass to clink against James’.
“And stopped Cerberus from taking over the Citadel.” He added with more drama in his voice than he otherwise would have with less alcohol flowing through him. They both took a swig of their drinks in triumph.
“And finally kicked the Reapers from this galaxy and into the next.” James finished with more than a bit of fire in his voice as he smacked his glass down hard.
“With a
little
help from their friends.” Garrus amended with a chuckle as he gazed down into the silvery liquid of his drink.
“Naaah,” James’ grin was back as he spun his stool around and leaned his elbows back upon the bartop, “it was just us.” He paused before adding smugly, “But mostly me.”
Garrus snorted into his drink before taking another sip. “Uh huh.” He swiveled just enough to scan what he could see of the rest of the club. “Where the hell is Jane? She was supposed to meet me here like-” He checked the time on his omni-tool – he blinked to clear his vision as the numbers swam a little, “-awhile ago.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t hold your breath, Scars.” James spun back around to face the bar again as he waved a hand dismissively. “I tried inviting her out to dance earlier, but she shot me down. Said she had plans with that mysterious boyfriend of hers.” He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “But you know what? I’m starting to think he doesn’t actually exist.”
Garrus grinned and turned back to the bartop as well, “Oh, really? What makes you say that?” He could see why Jane was messing with him, it
was
kind of fun. Especially because the entirety of the crew knew who Jane was seeing. Except for James.
“Have
you
seen them together? She hasn’t been all lovey dovey with
anyone,
at least not on the Normandy, not when I could see!” James stroked his chin, confusion evident on his face. “I don’t get it. She’s waaaay too hot to be struggling to find someone, and she’s way too laid back to give two shits about being single.”
“Ah,
there
you are.” They both turned to see an amused Jane standing behind them with her arms crossed. “You better not have gotten him too drunk, Vega. It hurts like hell when a turian steps on my toes. Come on.” With that, she grabbed Garrus’ arm and tugged him off toward the stairs to the dance floor.
“Oh, come on!” James hollered after them, laughter in his voice. “You’re taking
him
dancing? There’s
no way
he’s as good a dance partner as me!”
“You keep telling yourself that, Vega!” She called back to him with a grin as she continued dragging Garrus upwards.
“Are we seriously going dancing?” Garrus asked loudly in amazement over the music as they stepped out onto the dance floor. He blinked as he noticed Joker and EDI dancing carefully nearby. Maybe he’d had more to drink than he’d thought.
“I know, I know. It’s not usually my favorite pastime.” Jane conceded as they both started moving in rhythm to the beat. “But I just saw John dragging Jack up here to dance and I just had to tease him. Look at him go!” She gestured a little ways off where Shepard was awkwardly shuffling, seemingly to a completely different song than what was currently coming through the speakers. Jack was nearby, laughing as she danced in a more lively and skilled manner.
Garrus couldn’t help but chuckle, it was almost impossible not to when Shepard danced. “So, what was the hold up? I was starting to think you’d stood me up.”
“Ah, sorry about that.” Jane sighed sheepishly. “I ran into an old friend and she had a small request to discuss.” At that, Garrus suddenly remembered.
“Speaking of old friends,” He sobered a little and moved a little closer as the music shifted, placing a hand on her hip, “Vasir sends her regards.” Jane, who had been smiling at his adventurous fingers, froze.
“Wait, what?
Vasir
? When?”
“Shepard didn’t mention it? She jumped in to protect the salarian councilor from the assassin back during the coup.” Jane blinked, but after a moment she began to move with the music again.
“Huh. Well, guess she got let off with a slap on the wrist. Can’t say I’m surprised. Did she seem pissed about what happened back in Illium? I have no idea if she’s the type to hold a grudge.”
“Honestly, I have no idea either. I couldn’t get a good read on her. She seemed friendly enough, I suppose. But she says she owes you a rematch, so maybe watch your back.” Garrus only half meant it, but he probably would be keeping an eye peeled for the purple marked asari Spectre.
“Will do.” Jane replied with an expression all too eager for his liking. “So, tell me more about this Cerberus assassin.” Garrus’ felt his smile falter.
“Not much to say, I have no idea who he was. Weird guy, though. Long hair, for a human male at least. Had an odd mask that only covered his eyes, and fought with a
sword
of all things.” Recognition washed over Jane’s face, quickly followed by disgust.
“Kai Leng.” She muttered darkly, and Garrus’ movements slowed.
“I take it you two have met.” He stated, and Jane nodded as she wrapped her arms around his neck, still moving with the music. Garrus hummed his approval as he pulled her closer.
“We crossed paths a few times during my time with Cerberus.” She whispered as she leaned in closer. “He’s one of the Illusive Man’s little pet projects. He’s a racist little twat, and I’m looking forward to the day I can put a bullet between his eyes.”
“Mmm, I love it when you talk dirty.” Garrus murmured as one of his hands found her lower back, enjoying the feel of her slight shiver. His fingers ducked under the cloth of her shirt, but his blood cooled as he felt the bumps and ridges of fresh scarring he didn’t recognize.
She pulled away slightly at his touch, though her face betrayed nothing. They’d hadn’t had much downtime the past few days despite being on the Citadel, and they hadn’t had much time alone together. He hadn’t seen the extent of her new acid scars yet, and it was starting to become obvious that she was not keen to show them off just yet.
“Speaking of dirty, you up for a short vacation?” She grinned up at him as she changed the topic, and Garrus could recognize the twinkle of trouble in her eyes.
“A… vacation?
Now
?” Garrus blinked in surprise.
“Well, John says he plans to stay on the Citadel for a week or two to help with everything here, and then he has a few smaller missions that I think the team can handle well enough without us. I’ll ask him if we can take a short leave of absence, and we can meet up with him afterwards.” She explained, utterly failing to sate his confusion.
“Okay, but… A
vacation
? What, we’re just going to put our feet up and sip cocktails on the beach while the others are out there risking their necks?” He raised his brow plate in question, prompting her to roll her eyes.
“Not
exactly
.” She lifted questioning eyes up toward him, the two huge green pools he so often found himself drowning in. “How would you feel about a trip to Omega? Aria says she could use a hand in retaking her disgusting pile of junk from Cerberus, and who would be better suited to the job than Archangel himself? She’s promised her army for the war against the Reapers if we help her out, seems like a good trade to me. What do you think?”
Garrus only needed a moment to make up his mind. “Count me in.”
|
Weiss walked around the courtyard, waiting for her anger to subside or the time to go to orientation, whichever came first. Neither happened, because she spotted the familiar Ruby Rose appear at some point. Weiss didn’t know how much time had passed at that point, but she thought it was only 10 minutes or so.
“Weiss, are you okay? I know what happened was a lot, and I’m really sorry,” Ruby said, running to meet Weiss as she walked with no particular destination.
“I’m fine, apology accepted,” Weiss said, sighing. Despite what happened, she couldn’t stay angry. Ruby was too kind to come out here and try to cheer her up.
“Really? That’s good. I was worried you would try to like, move dorms or something,” Ruby said, laughing nervously.
“I wouldn’t do that over some stupid game that went badly. It’s only day one,” Weiss said, giving a soft smile. She hoped it was enough for Ruby to relax a little. Weiss didn’t know why she was concerned with Ruby relaxing, but she was.
“That’s really good. I hope that- Wait, something not right,” Ruby said, stopping in tracks.
“What?” Weiss said, also stopping. She was confused to say the least, concerned as well.
“I can smell you… you’re an alpha, right?” Ruby said, sniffing the air. Oh no.
“When’s your birthday?” Weiss asked, fearing the answer.
“It’s in a week, but Yang said the awakening wouldn’t happen for at least another few days…” Ruby said, confused.
“Sometimes it can happen early. Shit. We need to get you back to the dorm now,” Weiss said, grabbing Ruby’s hand and leading her away.
As they walked, Ruby remained silent, which concerned Weiss, but they didn’t have a moment to talk about that. Weiss also felt her body heating up weirdly, and she questioned it as she walked. Why would she be heating up? Her rut shouldn’t be for a little while, unless Ruby was going to awaken as an omega in heat right next to her. Shit. The situation couldn’t be worse.
As they finally made it back to the dorm, thankfully Blake and Yang weren’t there. Weiss supposed they left for the orientation. Weiss quickly pulled Ruby into the special isolation room attached to each dorm for students experiencing heat or rut, and turned around to leave and shut to soundproof, smell proof door. But then she realized she herself was absolutely warm. Shit. There wasn’t a second isolation room per dorm, because only one is required in schools of any kind. Maybe Weiss could make it to a teacher before she lost her mind though. Before she could make a decision, Ruby pulled her hand to get her attention. Weiss turned, irritated a little for a reason she couldn’t place. Probably raging hormones.
“Weiss, I hate to alarm you, but you don’t smell like an alpha. I was trying to tell you before you dragged me here,” Ruby said, not meeting her eyes.
“What?” Weiss couldn’t believe her ears.
Weiss wordlessly turned around from Ruby, and she heard Ruby turn away, assuming rightfully that Weiss was going to check. Weiss quickly shoved her hands under her uniform skirt and her panties, and instead of finding her dick, instead she found a vagina. And she was wet as hell.
“Shit! WTF is happening?!” Weiss said, alarmed.
“I don’t know… But you’re driving me insane with your smell…” Ruby said quietly.
Oh shit. Ruby must be an alpha. Betas didn’t have heats or ruts like omegas or alphas did. They lived on a different existence, more free from that. Sure, if they submitted to an alpha or topped an omega, they would get those experiences, but they otherwise lived without it. Weiss didn’t envy that, as they didn’t get the same level of pleasure from what her teachings in school told her. Weiss didn’t turn around to face Ruby, her face red and she was unsure of what to do. If she was an omega now, some unknown alpha could easily take advantage of her heat.
“Ruby, you should try to find a teacher to get a different isolation room. I can’t go out there now as an omega, someone might take advantage,” Weiss said.
Ruby didn’t say anything, but she heard some shuffling from behind her. Weiss turned around just in time to see Ruby approaching her, a look of hunger in her eyes. Weiss stepped back, despite every fiber of her body telling her to step forward and submit to Ruby.
“Ruby, wait! You can’t… We can’t do this!” Weiss said, backing into the wall.
“I’m not going to do anything to you… Unless you want me to. You are really pretty anyway,” Ruby whispered as she got closer, inches away but not touching her.
“I… Ruby. We cannot do this. You aren’t in your right mind, and neither am I,” Weiss was attempting to stay away, but her body was fighting it. Her hand stood in the air between them, shaking.
“If we do, we’ll relieve both our conditions. It’s my first time, so you won’t get pregnant, and I promise you I won’t mark you…” Ruby said, laying out the terms.
Weiss attempted to think for a moment. Her body screamed for her to just say yes. Weiss did admit it would be an optimal solution to the current situation. Ruby was probably too far gone to make a good decision should she go out there, and the same could be said for Weiss. Weiss slowly walked past Ruby, who initially lowered her head in rejection, before Weiss closed and locked the door to the bunker that was the isolation room.
“Fine, Ruby. Just… don’t go crazy,” Weiss said, looking at her feet.
Ruby went into action, grabbing Weiss and all but throwing her on the bed of the chamber. Weiss squeaked in surprise, but that noise was silenced as Ruby clumsily climbed on top of her. Weiss thought Ruby would be shyer about this, given her initial impression of Ruby, but it appeared that Ruby might have been too lust-drunk to give any of her actions any pause. Ruby was quick to pull Weiss into her, looking into her eyes.
“You’re sure about this? We can still stop,” Ruby said, though it was clear Ruby couldn’t really stop if she wanted to.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I thought you were the prettiest out of my roommates,” Weiss said, her own heat fueling her words.
“Alright then,” Ruby said, and those were the last real words to be spoken that night for a long, long time.
Ruby leaned down and kissed Weiss, and Weiss swore it was the most sensual kiss she ever experienced. Not that she’d kissed many people. Her body yearned for more though, and so did Ruby’s because they ground against each other over their clothes. Weiss had to hold back her voice, despite only touching over clothing she felt better than anything before.
As the night continued on, Ruby eventually got more and more bold, settling into her dominant role. Weiss was conflicted, she was sliding into her submissive one better than anticipated. Weiss knew deep down she hated being an alpha. She hated every single thing about it. But after the years of treatment and training of an alpha, Weiss still seemed to reject all that rather easily. Weiss felt Ruby dip under her clothes before she saw it, only then did Weiss realize her eyes were closed in bliss. She opened them to watch Ruby as she slid her hands under Weiss’s uniform shirt, massaging her pale, taut belly. Weiss didn’t object in the slightest, instead basking in the sensation.
Ruby went to the buttons that held Weiss’s shirt together, keeping Ruby from Weiss’s bare stomach and bra. Pop, pop, pop went the buttons, some almost being ripped from the fabric in Ruby’s haste. Weiss decided to hold onto Ruby’s shoulders as it happened, still trying to muffle her own voice uselessly. Weiss knew it would come out eventually, but she could at least hold onto that restraint a little longer.
Ruby wasn’t planning on that however, because as the shirt was discarded, Ruby went to push up Weiss’s bra and suckle on Weiss’s chest. That got the reaction Ruby was looking for, Weiss couldn’t keep her voice from slipping past her teeth then. The muffled cry was joined by a pleased noise from the other, and those noises only continued in the air as Ruby continued to tease Weiss’s nipples. Occasionally a swear could be heard from the heiress.
When Ruby decided she’d teased Weiss’s nipples enough, Weiss was a panting mess. Weiss had no idea being the receiver for the most part could be so good. But the dance certainly wasn’t over, and Weiss squealed as Ruby shoved a hand up Weiss’s skirt. But Weiss had decided that Ruby was wearing far too many clothes and tugged at Ruby’s shirt. Ruby seemed displeased to have to stop teasing Weiss for a moment but complied with Weiss’s silent request.
As soon as the shirt was off, Ruby went right back to where she was, earning a second squeal from Weiss. Ruby took that a step further too, lifting the skirt so that Ruby’s head was under it. Weiss was unhappy but flustered to see the bunched-up skirt with the knowledge of Ruby underneath it. Weiss felt teeth bluntly scraping against the pulse of her thigh, and Weiss was forced to fist the blankets underneath her.
Ruby only continued her relentless teasing in another area now, licking as Weiss’s core over her panties. Weiss let out an unfiltered moan, unable to hold back in the slightest. Weiss could only imagine when the cloth barrier would be removed. Weiss didn’t have to attempt to imagine for long though, as the undergarment was moved aside under the skirt and Ruby licked directly. That caused Weiss to almost let go for the first time that night, barely catching herself by the skin of her teeth. Ruby was not making it easy for Weiss.
Ruby continued to lap at Weiss’s folds as if it was the most delicious thing Ruby ever had, and Weiss was coming undone quickly. Weiss released one hand from the sheets to pull at Ruby’s arm, attempting to make Ruby let up. But Ruby didn’t seem to get the message, or outright ignored it, and continued until Weiss screamed in pleasure. Ruby only stopped when Weiss seemed to stop convulsing for the most part, only left with small twitches here and there. That was when Ruby reappeared from under the skirt, at which point she removed the skirt. Ruby also removed the rest of her clothes and growled in impatience while waiting for Weiss to recenter.
Weiss eventually met Ruby’s eyes again, and then promptly looked away. Weiss looked down when she averted her gaze and saw Ruby’s dick as Ruby hovered by Weiss. Weiss was too far into her heat to be embarrassed by the sight now, and instead turned over to present herself. If she was in her right mind, she would be cringing at what she was doing, but she couldn’t give two shits in the moment. Ruby growled in approval, mounting Weiss and kneeling over her. Ruby rubbed herself against Weiss’s pussy, spreading the gathered wetness on her dick and over Weiss’s thighs. Weiss let out a lewd moan, shaking in anticipation.
Ruby grabbed onto Weiss’s hips, holding Weiss in place as she carefully inserted herself. Weiss whimpered in pain a little, and Ruby gently licked at Weiss’s pulse point to attempt to ease Weiss a little. As Ruby managed to get herself fully inside, she waited until Weiss had signaled, she was comfortable. It took only moments for Weiss to buck back into Ruby, signaling she was ready, and Ruby threw her hips back and forward. Weiss couldn’t do much but buck back slightly as she was pounded into the bed, Ruby couldn’t hold back if she wanted to. There was no buildup really, but that didn’t seem to affect Weiss too much. She was in pure bliss all the same. Ruby was in a similar position. Ruby worked Weiss’s body as she rutted into Weiss, massaging Weiss’s clit with one hand and a pert breast with the other. Weiss didn’t have the same access from her position but did her best to buck and squeeze from below. There was a resounding slap of wet flesh each time hips met, and eventually, Ruby started to go harder to attempt to get her knot inside.
Weiss was on the verge of passing out from the sheer pleasure. Weiss wanted to feel the bite to her shoulder, but the small part of her that was still sane fought with the rest. It hoped that Ruby still had enough control left in her to honor the earlier promise, but she knew that might not be feasible anymore. Weiss screamed out in pleasure when she suddenly felt the knot pop inside, and Ruby bit down on the pillows beside Weiss’s shoulders. Weiss whined in sadness, despite knowing it was for the best, but the overwhelming pleasure of being filled at that point clouded that sadness away. Ruby was in a state of pleasure as well, too far away to register Weiss’s whine. They lay there panting together for a while, waiting for the knot to go down. Just one round may not satisfy their biology, but they would have a moment of sanity as they waited.
“Ruby… fuck that just happened…” Weiss whispered, in pure disbelief.
“What am I going to tell Yang?” Ruby said, worrying above Weiss.
“No idea. I have no idea how either of us are going to tell anyone about this,” Weiss said, sighing in frustration. What happens when they come out and everyone can smell her changed role? What happens when her siblings and father smell it?
“Weiss… Do you think this meant something? Since you changed and stuff, do you think we’re like, soulmates?” Ruby asked quietly, clearly scared of getting a negative response.
“Hell no! This was simply a strange coincidence and event that makes no sense. Trying to make sense of it won’t help anyone,” Weiss said, her voice slightly shrill. She would not get feelings for this dolt.
Ruby was silent, obviously trying to contemplate what to think. Weiss felt some sympathy, given this wasn’t going to be easy on Ruby either, but it was going to be much, much harder on Weiss. This wasn’t something that happens, an alpha becoming an omega. She only heard of it happening one other time in history, and it was due to extenuating circumstances that she could not remember in the least at the moment. Eventually, Ruby’s knot calmed down enough for her to pull out, and Weiss got to sit up a little for a moment. She buried her head in her hands, trying to think clearly. She could feel Ruby’s eyes on her, but she paid no mind.
“Weren’t you the one telling me not to try to make sense of this?” Ruby asked, trying to get Weiss’s attention.
“Shut up. This is your fault. Ugh,” Weiss blamed, though she didn’t really mean it.
Despite everything going on in her mind, she felt a strange sense of freedom. She wasn’t her father’s vision anymore; she couldn’t be now. By all means she should be frightened, and way more upset, but instead, she felt ready to embrace her new identity. She wanted this, but at the same time, could this really be true?
“Weiss, I’m so sorry…” Ruby looked down at her hands, clearly uncomfortable and even sad.
“I’ll admit, this isn’t ideal, but it’s not the end of the world. I… never really wanted to be an alpha…” Weiss whispered slowly.
“Huh?” Ruby was extremely confused now.
|
Clarke
One Year Later
Clarke dived out of the under bush, scrabbling to her feet quickly. She knew Lexa was close behind her, she'd been chasing her for a good half an hour now, but Clarke had managed to out wit her so far. They had started hunting, but they'd quickly become distracted once Clarke dared to nip the Alpha's tail playfully. Then it had become a game of chase. Of which Clarke had been winning.
Though now she'd shifted back to human form, her naked feet pounded against the floor as she tried to find a new hiding place. Lexa would know she'd shifted, she'd feel it, and soon the golden skinned woman would be human once more. Clarke needed to find a good hiding spot before that. Clarke knew they weren't alone in the forest, that there were still daily patrols of the territory boarders, just in case.
No one had seen or heard anything from Nia or Emmerson. The Azgeda pack had even broken up to nothing more then lost mutts, trying to find their place in other packs or start one their own. The Mountain Facility had fully burnt to the ground now, nothing left but a few crumbling walls. Sometimes, during the darkness of night, Clarke could still hear the crack of Emmerson's whip and the sting of its silver tips as it connected harshly against her skin. The scars on her back hadn't all fully healed yet, instead soft pink lines criss-crossing constantly reminded the omega of her time in the hunters chains. As Clarke found her hiding spot, in amongst the branches of a thick pine tree she settled down to wait, grateful that summer was fully upon them. Else her naked form would be freezing.
As she laid in wait for her mate to appear, she couldn't help but scan the Kongedakru lands. She could see the compound from her position, from the large farmhouse that was her sanctuary, to the scatter of nearly thirty houses that made a semi circle around it. A few months ago there had only been 15 or so houses, but since the Skikru homes had been burnt to the ground, all the wolves had moved here, building new homes and shelter for each other. The merging of the packs had gone fairly smoothly, the wolves who had tried to oppose the merge scattered to the wind, becoming mutts. Their leader, Charles Pike? Well his remains had been burnt and buried as per a traditional wolf burial, minus the headstone.
He'd been a traitor after all.
Clarke's ears perked up as she heard a crunch of leaves below her, her eyes scanning the area quickly. She caught sight of her mate then, crouched low to the ground, seeking out her scent. Lexa was a thing of beauty, a mighty Alpha. She was lithe, yet muscled, toned all over. Her hair was long and wavy once down, framing her face with a dark mane, but what Clarke liked most about her, other then her peachy butt, were the twisting tribal tattoos that wound down her back and arms. They made her stand out, marked her as an Alpha, and a powerful one at that. The thought of her power sent a shudder through Clarke's body, reminding her that Lexa was bound to her find her soon.
It was the last day of her heat, so the scent was weak, but since their bonding, Lexa had always managed to find her faster then she could hide. Clarke suspected that this time, her mate had given her a head start to hide. Clarke braced herself, ready to pounce, as Lexa's eyes rolled up to hers. The alpha grunted, standing up tall, cocking her eyebrows in a mocking way. Like she knew were Clarke had been the entire time. With a yell of triumph, Clarke launched herself into the air, planning on landing on the alpha below her and pinning her to the ground. That plan backfired quickly when Lexa caught her with ease, laughing deeply. Clarke huffed and punched her mates shoulder lightly,
“You weren't supposed to find me,” Clarke grumbled, as Lexa set her down. The Alpha's hands trailed up her sides to her front, tracing Clarke's own toned stomach, before reaching her pert breasts. The blondes’ breath caught for a moment as Lexa leant in to kiss the light scar at the base of her throat. She tilted her head back, enjoying the electric bolt that sparked through her from the one kiss,
“I'll always find you Princess,” Lexa murmured into Clarke's skin, her hands dropping to the blondes’ thighs, lifting them with ease to rest around her waist. That's when Clarke felt Lexa's erection. Thick and thronging, pressing between her legs tightly, and it sent a groan tipping out of her throat as she threaded her arms tightly around Lexa's shoulders. The alpha backed them up against the thick tree, her cock rubbing hotly between Clarke's slick folds. The blonde mewed softly, head throw back against the tree as Lexa assaulted her neck with kisses and bites. The tip of the Alpha's erection brushed against her clit, sending a whole new wave of pleasure rushing through her, her wetness growing each time. Lexa’s hands gripped her thighs tightly, a low growl rumbling from her chest,
“Oh…God….please..Lexa..” Clarke mewed, feeling the wide head of her cock slid against her entrance. Lexa whined low, thrusting her hips upwards, her head breaching Clarke's slick sex, sliding inside with ease. The blonde gasped, revealing in the feel of Lexa's cock being within her. So wide, so thick, but all hers. The alpha gave another thrust, pinning Clarke tightly against the tree. The omega didn't care that the bark bit into her skin every time Lexa drove into her, she didn't care that her naked butt would be scratched to hell, all she cared about was Lexa, going into her rut, slamming the thickness of herself into Clarke over and over.
She didn't care that their pack could probably hear them, again, mating like their animal counter parts in the woods. Lexa had slid into her rut, her pace fast and relentless, grunting low each time she filled Clarke to the base of her cock, her knot pushing tightly against her each time. Clarke couldn't stop herself from moaning Lexa's name each time she felt her hit that inner sweet spot, her walls griping the throbbing cock greedily, not wanting Lexa to ever leave her. Clarke wanted to be full, to be filled with the Alpha's seed, to take everything Lexa could give her. With a low moan, Clarke's orgasm splashed out around Lexa's shaft and onto her groin, a scream of the Alpha's name rolling off her tongue. Lexa moaned low as Clarke's inner walls squeezed her hard, encouraging her to press Clarke hard into the tree, the fully formed knot pulsing and pushing inside with ease, Clarke's sheer slick heat making it easy to pop inside.
The mated pair cried aloud from the pressure between them, Lexa’s own climax bursting within her mate, her seed filling Clarke to the brim. The omega practically collapsed against her mate, nuzzling into her neck and moaning in content. All Clarke could think and hoped was maybe this time there would be pups.
Octavia and Lincoln
Octavia let out a low groan of exhaustion as she flopped onto the sofa besides her mate. Lincoln let out a low chuckle as he pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head,
“This is all your fault,” she whispered, eyes closed. Lincoln huffed and nipped her ear lobe lightly,
“I think you'll find that you’re their Sire, so it's technically your fault,” he shot back, looking over the two sleeping pups that lay on the carpet before them. The twin offspring of Octavia and Lincoln where just over three months old and were already mischievous. It had been difficult to pin point their births to start with, since Lincoln had begun showing his pregnancy within a month, but Abby Griffin had thrown herself in research on the Packs previous omega births. Abby, being a beta wolf had carried Clarke for a full term before the blonde was born. However, Abby had been unsure if the pregnancy time would be different, due to Lincoln's omega blood.
She'd calculated the typical pregnancy time for natural wolves and compared them to human pregnancies, then werewolf pregnancies. But once Lincoln hit the seven-month mark and showed no signs of dropping, even when he shifted to wolf, Dr. Griffin predicted they'd go to full term. Until they realized he was having twins. His last scan showed that the smaller of the two, the boy, was having trouble getting oxygen due to his sister being much larger. Lincoln now supported a pink puckered scar across his midriff from the emergency c-section. But thankfully, both pups had been born, healthy. If not a little odd sized.
Their boy, Abraham, was a good two inches smaller then his sister, Juniper. Yet they both supported the appetite of small beasts. Even now, at three months old, they were developing a lot faster then anyone could have predicted. Juniper had already begun crawling, while her brother usually grabbed at her foot, happy to be dragged behind her. Today had been an eventful day, seeing Juniper pull herself to a standing position, on Abrahams head, while the boy simply gurgled and made odd laughing like noises. But now they slept, giving their parents time to rest and finally have a moment to breath.
“I'm not taking all the blame here Linc, they are half yours!” Octavia protested in a whisper, not quite ready to have the twins reawaken just yet. She nuzzled at Lincoln neck, pressing a soft kiss to his bond mark. With nothing but a slight rustling of clothing, Octavia maneuvered her way onto Lincoln's lap, pressing kisses against his neck and face as she did. The time for his last three heats had been and gone without a flare of the usual scent, much to Octavia's annoyance. She was pent up, frustrated and eager to be one with her mate. Neither of them knew why his heats hadn't flared up like usual, but they laid blame on being so soon out of pregnancy. The grip Lincoln locked onto Octavia's ass only signified that he too, was just as frustrated. As their lips met in a heated kiss, Octavia felt s buzz of lust flush through her. Her groin ached and throbbed, the first tell tale signs of her presenting her alpha form, she could already feel Lincoln's own shaft beginning to grow beneath her lap. They could have a stolen moment of passion, they longed for it, but it seemed now wasn't the time,
“They are finally sleep,” Clarke's voice washed over the two as she crept into the lounge, a warm, sarnies smile on her face. Octavia torn her lips from Lincoln's, shooting her alpha a glare.
“Shhhh!” she hissed, frowning hard. Clarke held her hands up in apologies; tip toeing through the lounge area. Stepping over toys and games that the twins had left screwing around the room. Rather then taking residence in one of the newly built pack homes, Octavia and Lincoln had agreed with their Alpha's to stay in the farmhouse, for better protection for the new borns. With Nia still unaccounted for, Lexa had reasoned that they shouldn't give her reason to come hunting for the pups. They were, after all, the first born from an omega since the alpha herself.
“Has Bellamy returned yet?” Clarke whispered, taking a seat in one of the leather chairs furthest away from the pups. The blonde omega eyed them with a look of jealousy. Octavia dismounted from Lincoln and shook her head,
“I haven't heard anything since last month,” she muttered, watching Juniper roll over in her sleep, her little fat legs kicking as she dreamt. Bellamy had been sent to the Floukru just before Octavia and Lincoln's wedding. He'd gone as an emissary to propose another merge of Packs. Luna was the alpha to the Floukru and had just as much reason to hate Nia as Lexa did. Costia, Lexa's mother, had been Luna's own flesh and blood, murdered by Nia because she'd birthed Lexa.
Bellamy’s last check in had been to say Luna had agreed to join the Kongedakru and would be visiting soon. He'd never specified when. They could arrive any day now, but no one was the wiser of when. A small cough came from the direction Clarke had first arrived, making them all aware of Lexa's presence. The alpha scanned the sleeping pups for a moment, a small smiled creeping on her face as she did.
Octavia beamed, the alpha had been joyous when they'd been born, cooing over them and playing with their tiny feet and hands in a way that was something no-one had ever seen. Even now, Octavia could see the alpha was itching to wake the pups and play with them,
“They'll be awake soon alpha, then they're all yours,” Lincoln whispered with a smirk. Lexa glared at him, her cheeks flushed. Lincoln grinned, knowing full well he shouldn't be teasing the Alpha, but sometimes it couldn't be helped.
“Clarke, I believe we were half way through a discussion before the run?” Lexa whispered, turning her eyes to the other omega in the room. Lincoln and Octavia both turned their eyes to the blonde, smirking identically. Clarke shifted on the leather seat slightly. The parents had heard the two arguing in the study, before Clarke had stormed out, already stripping from her clothes about two hours earlier. Octavia had bet Lincoln five dollars that the blonde planned on distracting the alpha to try and forget the argument, it looked like Octavia had won. As the Alpha's moved from the lounge back to the study, the door closing sharply behind then, Octavia laughed loudly,
“You owe me five bucks daddy!” behind her Juniper awoke with a shrill cry. Her little arms and legs flailing in the air,
“And you have a dirty diaper to change!” |
Rationing the apples, you only eat one per day to make them stretch, thinking that he’s not likely to give you more.Eating them makes you think of him, so instead of bringing them to lunch you happily munch away in the privacy of your own room.
It did occur to you that someone could’ve put him up to it rather than it being his own choice, but you liked to imagine he thought of you himself.You weren’t sure what you did to warrant such a thing but reveled in it nonetheless.
A small box appeared in front of your door a few days later, having been put there at some unknown point.You almost stepped on the thing, seeing it before doing so and bringing it inside.It had no tag on it, just a plain white box, not taped shut or wrapped.
What it had inside was a t-shirt with your favorite bands logo on the front, the name spelled out across the back shoulders.Immediately you put it on to find it fit like a glove, observing yourself in the mirror, positively ecstatic!
How thoughtful! Maybe someone thought it was your birthday, again?
You weren’t sure how anyone knew you liked this band so much since you didn’t really talk about it all that much.If you didn’t have to go to school that day you would’ve never taken it off.
For some odd reason you felt proud of it, asking a few of your friends if they’d given it to you, none of which said yes.
The moment you could, you put it back on, wearing it to relax around the dorms and sleep that night.It became a serious addition to your leisure clothes, an item you wash daily so you can put it on whenever.
Just who gave it to you though? Surely it had to be someone you knew, honestly you hoped they’d reveal themselves soon since it felt wrong to not give proper thanks.Unbeknownst to you, it came from Bakugou.
It wasn’t difficult to find out what you liked, all he really had to do was peek at your phone when you put music on or eavesdrop when you brought it up around your friends, and he’d been gathering information for a few months now.That made it way easier to order the damn thing before too much time passed between gifts.
For a second he did consider putting a tag on it or giving you some sign it was from him, but that felt like overkill, and he didn’t want to openly admit he was trying to be nice.It gave him a bit of pride to know you liked it, considering that you were wearing it around the dorms and continue to do so.
The next week went by rather sweetly for you, at least once a day being met with some form of kindness.One of which came directly from Bakugou.
He gave you another bag of apples just as you ran out, just leaving them inside your locker with a note inside.You’re welcome.Yeah, those had to of come from him.
But not everything was as easy to source, later on there was a can of your preferred drink from the vending machine on the seat you always pick during lunch.You wondered if it was someone else's but when the period was half over and nobody came to claim it, you drank it.This would be a new daily occurrence.
A few times you’d left your desk with your things on it, coming back to see new pens resting on your notebooks.So far you’ve acquired four of them, one with calico cats all over it, one that has ink that is your favorite color, and two black ink pens that are of very high quality.Little things like that became frequent, and you stopped trying to figure out why, just accepting them and being grateful internally.
Bakugou liked giving you things, and the fact that you seemed very content with it inflated his infatuation with you.But, you had no idea they were from him, as he realized a week into doing so.He felt inspired by that to up the ante.
For such a loud boy he could really sneak up on a person when he felt like it, not giving you any idea he was there until you finished putting your things into your locker, seeing him leaning against the one besides yours when you close it.
You flinch and quickly brush the jumpscare off, about to say something when he does first.
“How are your grades?”
“My grades? I think -”
“I bet they’re shit based on the exam scores I’ve seen on the board, that and you’re always drawing in your notebook.”, he says with a standoffish smile, chuckling at the sentiment.
You sadly cower a bit, ears going red with shame.“O-Oh…”
His eyes widen slightly as he stands up, totally not expecting that reaction to what he thought would be a cute thing to say.Sometimes he forgets that he’s a really effective bully.“Well don’t fuckin’ cry over it.”, after a small pause he forces himself to lighten his tone, “I want to help you study.”
You perk up at that, “Really? That’d be great! Gosh, I’ve seen your scores and you’re so smart Bakugou! There’s no way I won’t improve with your help!”
Instantly his ego swells, his heartbeat quickening, a dusting of pink rising to his cheeks as he sneers and points his eyes towards the left of you.“Of course I am, the future number one hero needs to be the best. I can teach you a lot of things that you won’t get in class and certainly won’t get from any of these other extras.”
With a grin you give an affirmative nod and hum, “Right! So, when and where?”
He briefly glances towards you, looking away as his nerves get even worse from your adorable display, which you thankfully don’t notice.“I’ve got some shit set up at the library, just bring your pencil case and come with me now.”
You reopen your locker and fish out your newer pencil case, one you found outside your door yesterday, rectangular with All Might’s most famous poster printed on it.“How long will we be out?”
“Got somewhere to be?”, he says defensively.
“Nope! Not ‘till tomorrow anyways, me and a few of our classmates are going out shopping!”, you announce with obvious excitement, closing your locker a second time.
He huffs and furrows his brows as he mulls that over.Shitty hair mentioned that at lunch today, but he blew it off since he doesn’t need anything and he had no idea you were going.“Who are you going out to waste money with?”
“Uraraka, Midoirya, our class president, Kaminari is a maybe, Kirishima, Tsuyu and Mina.”
Bakugou wrinkles his nose up and suppresses the urge to roll his eyes.What a pack of losers, you were really going to let such a vapid group eat up your Saturday?Uraraka is the only one out of the bunch that he solidly respects, or even trusts since the rest are all alphas, her being an omega like you.Deku absolutely likes you, he’s seen the dork fumble words when you’re beaming with your usual optimism.Kaminari is just… Kaminari.
But the person he worries about the most is Kirishima.He’s genuinely charming and Bakugou suspects he’s probably who you want.You being alone with him might undo his gift giving, having someone shop for you can be such an intimate thing, memorable too.He blinks a few times when you wave a hand in front of him to get his attention, snapping out of his bitter thoughts and turning to head towards the library, you following at his side.
“Do you wanna come with us? I asked Kirishima if you were but he said -”
“Yeah.” he barks out, “I need new shorts, I have to go so might as well let you extras tag along.”
With a chirp you pull your phone out and open the 1-A group chat, “Awesome! I’ll let everyone know! We’re gonna go get lunch afterwards, that tea place around the block from here. You gonna come there too?”
He grumbles and rubs at his neck to play off his automatic response of wanting to chirp back.“Ugh, sure. But don’t get all broken hearted if I check out early. Might not wanna be stuffed in such a small place with all of your smelly asses.”
Excitedly, you hum affirmatively, relaying his thoughts in your message.It’s rare to see Bakugou participate in a group activity this willingly, hoping he doesn’t change his mind within the next twelve hours.
While you’re busy typing, he warmly smiles towards you, basking in the glow of your happiness.Mentally, he begins preparing to use the opportunity to win you over. |
She is on top of something really soft and it isn’t helping in the wake-up-already subject. Not that she is planning on doing that. Still, she has the feeling it is not a time to still be in bed.
She groans, burying her face in the soft surface she is currently sleeping on, content to stay there for an undefined but prolonged period of time.
Until the soft surface starts moving, and she opens (barely) her eyes confused.
Clarke is looking at her.
She has obviously just waken up, probably from Raven burying her face into her neck. The mechanic breathes relieved that at least it was not some other body part that could have made the whole thing really, really uncomfortable.
More uncomfortable, she realizes after a beat of staring into her best friend’s eyes, images of the evening flashing though her head. Well, crap.
After a look towards the rest of their bodies, Raven confirms what she suspected. She’s lying on top of Clarke. Her right leg is right in between Clarke’s thighs. She has to bite her lip to keep herself quiet, and after an awkward moment, she brings her eyes back to the blonde girl’s face.
She has always found her roommate incredibly cute in the mornings, basically because Clarke always looks like someone slapped her with a wet fish and a shout of ‘Good morning’ right into her face. And seeing it now so up close, when they are both in bed , creates a weird sense of tenderness in her chest.
Clarke breaks the eye contact to look to her side, and Raven does the same unconsciously, realizing at the same time as the other girl that Lexa is no longer in bed.
“What time is it?”
Her voice sounds hoarse, even more than it always does, and Raven forgets to answer for a moment.
“I don’t know.”
Clarke makes a move towards the nightstand with her hand, but her arm falls short. She turns towards Raven, a slight blush on her cheeks and an amused expression. “Raven, love, I need to get the phone.”
Huh. The phone.
Right.
‘You’re lying on top of her, idiot. Get off.’
Her body seems to finally respond to the voice in her head, and she hurries to move herself off of Clarke, who chuckles before reaching for the phone, this time successfully.
“It’s 9 pm. Wow, weird.”
They had fallen asleep for more than two hours. Raven feels her whole body complain against the strange sleeping pattern, even though she’s pretty sure she’s done more harm to her body in other occasions. She was not a person to sleep when you were supposed to as a human being. But the whole sex with two people thing had left her drained.
“I’m gonna take a shower real quick.” She hears Clarke say, while the girl is already getting up from the bed.
She stands in the middle of the room, completely naked while she opens the drawer and grabs a few clothes. Raven stares as she opens the door and makes a beeline for the bathroom, still with no sense of modesty whatsoever.
The sound of water running can be heard from the room no long after, but Raven is still motionless in the bed, propped up on one elbow which is starting to hurt slightly from the weight.
Everything had felt easy and normal a few hours before, when she was fucking Clarke while Lexa was sucking relentlessly different spots on her neck.
Shit. Her neck.
She brings a hand to touch the damaged area, locating easily the bruises by pressing her fingers on the different places Lexa had spent particularly long amounts of time. She’s surprised she remembers.
Shaking her head to clear it from the impure thoughts, she tries to get her thought process back. Right. Everything had seemed simple. But now?
It could still be. She desperately wants everything to be simple, but her best friend and her girlfriend are out there in the apartment and the thought of talking to any of them and receiving the cold shoulder is a little frightening.
But Raven’s never been one to deal well with potential frightening situations. She’s up and walking firmly towards the bathroom before she can think twice about it. Clarke jumps when she steps into the shower and a squeal comes out of her mouth. Raven chuckles, because the girl has wet hair on her face, half of it still with shampoo, and she looks so startled that the mechanic actually feels kinda bad.
Clarke is looking at her expectantly.
“So I know everyone was cool when we were doing… that. But… I don’t know, I don’t want things to get weird, ok? You’re my best friend. I love you. And I mean, do I find you attractive? Well, duh, yes. But I really don’t want to mess up anything about our friendship. Not to say that I wouldn’t have sex with you again, because I would, but… shit, I wasn’t supposed to say that. That doesn’t help in making things less awkward. What I ‘m trying to say-”
“You’re rambling.”
Raven stops talking abruptly, her mouth half-opened while she stutters like an idiot.
“Also, stop being cute and come under the water.”
Clarke proceeds to push her under the showerhead, and Raven stands silent as the other girl squeezes shampoo on her hand and starts washing her hair, massaging the scalp. Raven struggles not to moan at the sensation. Holy shit, who needs sex when there’s this.
They stand there for what feels like hours, washing each other, cleaning every spot of skin after they’re finished with the hair.
Raven drags her hands down Clarke’s back admiringly.
Clarke turns around and her eyes fall on Raven’s neck. She looks pensive, and the brunette feels her chest fill with uncertainty.
“If you don’t want me to come in between you and Lexa,” she stops, a smirk appearing on her face, “well, that sounded dirty… and appropriate.” She shakes her head, “Sorry. Shit. What I meant was-”
She doesn’t manage to get the words out because Clarke closes the distance between them, effectively shutting her up with her lips. Raven gasps surprised but quickly opens her mouth to let Clarke’s tongue brush against her own.
She pushes Clarke towards the glass without realizing, and she groans when the blonde gasps at the cold sensation against her back. “Fuck.”
Clarke is biting her lip, and Raven’s hands are about to enter dangerous territory, but she manages to control them in time, and she separates herself from her best friend with labored breathing and wide eyes.
“I think we need to talk about this.”
Clarke nods.
They each grab a towel and dry themselves trying not to bump into each other. Raven gets a look at herself on the mirror and she swallows when she spots the dark marks that start on her neck and continue down her collarbone and some even on her chest.
She gets dressed quickly.
Clarke opens the bathroom door, and an entirely too tempting smell infiltrates the small humid room, making Raven’s mouth water.
She doesn’t bother with drying her hair. To be honest, her feet are taking her to the kitchen as if her life depends on in, and she does not care at all about anything that is not the potential delicious food she’s searching for.
Lexa is flipping something on a pan, a spatula in her hand. She turns towards Raven when she hears her enter the kitchen, a small smile on her face. “Pancakes.”
Clarke appears that moment, eyeing the food suspiciously. “Lexa, it’s almost 10 pm.”
“So?”
Clarke seems to consider the answer for a moment, genuinely trying to find an objection to the whole thing, but she doesn’t seem to find it because she shrugs after a while.
Lexa beams. “I just thought we all could need it.”
Raven remembers the imminent discussion that seems to be about to happen at any moment, and she looks between Clarke and Lexa nervously.
When nobody says anything, Raven sighs exasperated and throws caution to the wind. “Okay, seeing as no one is going to bring up the obvious situation we have here, I will .” Clarke turns to look at her, but Lexa continues flipping pancakes unbothered. “Great, so much attention from my audience, I’m flattered. Anyway, I’ll go straight to the matter… Does anyone here present regrets what happened?”
Clarke laughs. “Nope.”
Lexa turns with a confused expression in her face. “Wait, you thought we regretted it?”
She thinks about the question, realizing that the answer is not that surprising. To her, it seems quite obvious. “Well, duh. I mean, maybe you didn’t, but there was always the possibility that you did.”
Lexa keeps staring at her like she’s endeared by her, and Raven feels the need to take the spatula from her hand and hit Lexa’s head with it. Repeatedly.
She huffs instead.
“Okay, next question.”
“What is this, an interrogation?”
“Shut up.” She glares at Clarke, who purses her lips trying not to laugh. “As I was saying, next question. Was it only sex?”
The silence that follows, as Lexa busies herself flipping and flipping the damn pancakes, and Clarke becomes suddenly very interested in the ceiling, is almost comical. Raven practically hears the crickets in her ears.
It’s still confusing, because she really doesn’t understand what it means, so she tries not to look too disappointed.
“‘K, only sex. Got it. Next question: one-time thing?”
She tries to avoid looking at them in the eye, afraid that they will see something, by extending her hand towards the plate of pancakes, intent on stealing at least a piece.
Lexa cuts her off rudely by grabbing her hand. She turns to Raven with a serious expression, still holding her hand awkwardly. “No, Raven, it was not just sex.” She throws a look in Clarke’s direction before continuing. “It can be more.”
Raven looks at Clarke, who smirks and, at the still dubious face Raven’s pulling, assures her. “And it was definitely not a one-time thing. Unless you want it to be…”
“I don’t.”
“Perfect.”
Lexa puts the dirty pan on the sink and, after cleaning up a bit, hands Clarke the plate full of pancakes.
Raven grabs the chocolate syrup and follows Clarke to the couch.
She wonders if the conversation is officially over, because she still has a fuckload of questions to ask. And hearing Clarke and Lexa bicker about what movie they should watch doesn’t make the situation any less weird.
Raven doesn’t even realize on what they settle on. She just knows that suddenly there is silence and the movie is starting and everyone is eating pancakes as if their lives are about to end.
It’s not the worst place to be.
Clarke stands up and goes to the kitchen, returning short after with napkins for everyone. She throws one into Lexa’s face, who groans displeased. Clarke takes a seat on Raven’s left, and suddenly the mechanic realizes she’s in the middle of the couple and no one seems to mind.
Lexa finishes up her plate and puts her arm on the couch, right behind Raven’s shoulders.
“So are we dating?”
Clarke and Lexa turn to look at her, curious matching expressions on their faces.
“I mean, you guys are dating. But I would actually like to know how the hell do I fit in in here.”
Clarke drops her head onto Raven’s shoulder, and she subconsciously puts her hand on Clarke’s thigh. She doesn’t think about it until she feels the warmth underneath her skin, and she starts wondering if this is the smartest move to do right now.
“Raven Reyes,” Clarke is smiling and she has chocolate in the right corner of her mouth, “would you like to be our girlfriend?”
“What kind of sappy bullshit is that?”
“Hey! You asked!” Clarke hits her on the stomach lightly and Raven grabs her hands, laughing hysterically, trying to immobilize her. The blonde keeps smacking her wherever she can.
The fight quickly turns too intimate when Raven realizes their faces are very close and neither of them are wearing a lot of clothes. She clears her throat feeling awkward and turns to her left side, expecting to see Lexa staring at her with her unnerving impassible expression.
Instead, she doesn’t really have time to discern the expression on the other girl’s face, because a hand on her neck brings her face forward until her mouth connects with plump, full lips.
Clarke stars kissing lazily her shoulder and Raven brings a hand behind her to tangle her fingers in blonde wet hair. Her tongue finds Lexa’s and a moan escapes one of them, but Raven is not really sure who it came from.
“Okay,” she breathes into Lexa’s mouth, a noise escaping her throat when Clarke starts kissing delicately the sensible parts in her neck, “I guess I kinda want to be your girlfriend.” She takes off her shirt in a hurried motion and attaches her mouth again to Lexa’s while whispering, “Maybe.”
A hand is swiftly entering her sweat pants and her whole body goes stiff. She notices Lexa smirking.
Clarke’s voice sounds dangerously close to her ear. “You sure about that maybe ?” Her hand is slowly tracing Raven’s clit above her panties.
“OKay. Okay. Oh- shit… kay.” She closes her eyes, mentally begging Clarke to put her hand to good use already because she can’t take the teasing and she doesn’t want to say it out loud. “I really, really want to date you guys, okay? Fuck. I want to do gross couply stuff with the both of you, and holy shit, I want to have sex with you every fucking day of my whole fucking existence.” Clarke’s hand pushes underneath the fabric. “Good enough?”
When she opens her eyes, Lexa is only wearing her bra and her underwear, and she wastes no time in taking Raven’s pants off.
“Yep. Good enough.”
“Great, maybe we should take this to the bedroom though.”
They all nod simultaneously with thoughtful expressions.
“That’s a good point.”
****
Clarke is running late to her morning class, and Raven makes sure to stay out of her way, as always, afraid of the girl when she gets stressed and annoyed. And maybe she feels a little bit guilty, because she knows Clarke didn’t get enough sleep. Neither of them did, but at least Raven doesn’t have an 8 am class.
Lexa doesn’t either, and she asks Raven if she can stay in the apartment while Clarke is gone.
The mechanic shrugs and pretends to consider her answer. “Are you gonna make me food?”
“I could.”
“Great. You can stay.”
Clarke is still running around the apartment because she can’t find her boots, and Lexa stares at her adoringly until a frown appears in her face. “Wait, the brown boots? I think I saw them under the bed.”
Clarke returns 3 minutes later with the boots and she walks to Lexa, kissing her briefly once she stands in front of her. “Goddamn it, I love you.”
Raven smiles from her spot on the couch. Suddenly, Clarke is in front, stealing a kiss from her too, but before Raven has time to react, the blonde girl is already out the door.
Clarke had kissed her goodbye.
She can kiss Clarke and Lexa goodbye anytime she wants.
She could really get used to this, she thinks before she starts annoying Lexa. “So I want… eggs, bacon, waffles… maybe toast too?” |
&&&
Salina Angelina Carter gathered a few things and placed them on the bed. She was packing a duffle bag for her flight to the Bahamas. She stopped and decided to make a phone call. Replacing the SIM card, she dialed one of the three numbers saved. The first call was disconnected after the third ring. The second call on the first ring, then a wait for two minutes before placing the call again. On the third ring, a woman answered.
"Lina, my sweetheart, Happy Birthday."
"It's not my birthday yet. One more day to go," Salina replied.
"Stop worrying, everything will be fine. Did something happen?"
"No, everything is fine. I can't wait to see you. How have you been doing? Did you go to the doctor like you were supposed to?" Salina asked.
"Yes, I did and he said I'm fine. I'm just a bit stressed. I haven't seen my baby in a while and I miss you."
"I know Mom, I miss you too..."
"Your mother and father would be so happy to see you now. What a beautiful young lady you've grown into."
"Yes, Daddy would be happy and you're the only mother I've known June. I miss her but you're the mother I have. I would love to come and see you but it's going to get even more dangerous after my birthday. I have to make sure I'm safe before..."
"I understand Salina but it will be over soon and you won't have to hide like this anymore," said June encouragingly.
A tear ran down Salina cheek. She may never get out of this but at the very least, she wanted June safe, no matter what. She wiped the tear and blinked back the few that were threatening to fall. "Yes, you are right, it will be over soon and we won't have to live like this anymore. I'm going to get going. I just wanted to hear your voice."
"Let me know when you are coming. I'll cook whatever you want."
"I will, thanks. I love you June."
"I love you too my baby."
Salina removed the SIM card and stored it away. She also turned on her GPS tracker. It was critical that Dara or Madelyn be able to find her especially at this time. Mike had called her several times but she had not returned any of his calls. She knew she would have to explain things to him but not at that moment. Storm had also called and texted but she had not replied to him either.
Her phone buzzed. The message was from Dara. You're being moved tonight. Go downstairs in five minutes.
She finished gathering her things and placed the duffle bag at the door. She had to wait until she got the signal to leave the apartment. The text came and she hurriedly went through the door. As she reached the landing, the lights from a car shone to her left and she turned to look only to see two men coming at her. She looked behind ready to make a run back for her apartment but stopped when another car pulled up in front of her. It was Storm. He got out of the car and looked at the car with the lights but suddenly, two SUV pulled up along the side of his car, blocking it in. The men came out of the SUV with guns drawn look at them.
"What the fuck? Who are you?" Storm asked immediately reaching for Salina.
But she pulled her hand out of his reach, as the leader said to her, "Amicus."
"What?" Storm asked confused.
"Proteggere!"Salina responded.
The men immediately surrounded both Storm and Salina with their backs to them. Another man came up behind the two that came from the first vehicle and it was then that Storm noticed it may have been more than the two they originally thought.
"I think it's best if you came with us young Miss," said a man still in the dark.
"I think it's best that she doesn't," said a familiar voice from the shadows coming into the light.
"Dara?" Storm asked as she revealed herself.
"You have no jurisdiction here," said the man. He was still unrecognizable since the light from the headlight of the car behind him kept his features obscured.
"They are both under my jurisdiction and if you would like to know how much power I wield in this situation, go for it," Dara replied calmly.
"What's going on?" Storm asked. "What is this all about?" He had to get Salina and now Dara to safety.
"He doesn't know?" the man asked Dara.
"When the time is right," Dara clarified.
"She's coming with us, for safety," said the man steering the subject back to Salina.
"Her safety is being nowhere near you," replied Dara.
"Now I'm being nice to you..." the man began.
"Begin!" Dara said firmly. Immediately there were six infrared beams on the man's chest and head. The two men behind him also had infrared beams on them as well. "Standing orders where given years ago to have you eliminated if you tried to take her by force. She will remain in our protection until the day of the meeting when all of this will be resolved iambically and she will be free. I believe this move is yours."
Cursing under his breath, "Stand down!" the man ordered angrily.
Dara smiled. "Extract," she ordered and moments later, a helicopter was heard coming closer. In less than two minutes, it was hovering above them before landing in the designated empty parking lot. She looked over at Dara who smiled. "I'll see you shortly," she said to Salina and to the men, "go!"
"Dara!" Storm yelled but looked at Salina.
Salina looked at him. "I'm sorry," she said before being led away to the helicopter.
"Take him! Full protective detail. No one gets to him," ordered Dara when Salina was no longer in sight, before turning away.
"Dara what the hell?" Storm asked as the other men who came with Dara surrounded him.
"Go with them, it's for your safety and you need to be safe."
Storm was led away into a van.
&&&
The phone rang and Storm answered it hurriedly. He was at a hotel, a security protocol set up by the bodyguards and his father for both him and Ayasha if they were ever in need of full protection. Nothing was but the guards knew who he was and provided everything he needed. He had a very good idea who did the briefing. Dara, Dara was not the Dara he knew. She's wasn't just his father's assistant. She knew who Sally...no Salina was? She was protecting Salina. He had so many questions but before he could get a word out she began.
"She arrived safely to her destination. I know you have questions but they will not be answered tonight. I need you to re-familiarize yourself with everything you know and was taught by both your father and Henry regarding international financial laws. You will need it to protect yourself and her even though you cannot represent her. I'm rescheduling some of your meetings for tomorrow for another day. The day after will be rough. Good night. She's safe Storm, I promise."
"Dara...I don't know where to begin,"
"We'll talk but not now. I need sleep. Good night," said Dara ending the call.
&&&
"How do you feel?" Madelyn asked when Salina picked up the phone.
"Scared, tense...will I live to see tomorrow?" Salina asked.
"Yes, that is an absolute. They want the money and they're afraid of crossing Dara. She's gained a reputation of being deadly," Madelyn said trying to lighten the mood.
Salina smiled but then said seriously, "Will she be in danger now?"
"There is always danger. We just need to end this as peacefully as possible."
"I'm so..."
"Don't say it. Don't ever apologize. You did nothing wrong. You have a right to live and you will. Get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a hectic day. We will get you familiar with the accounts and everything with them."
"Okay. Madelyn, please find out how Storm is doing? I know he's angry at me for lying to him but I want to..."
"He's fine and safe. We'll talk tomorrow."
"Good night."
"Good night."
&&&
Storm sat in the car and put his head back. He didn't know how much sleep he got last night only that he had to be reassured that Sally, no, Salina was fine. Salina, the name fit her so much better. It to roll off his tongue as if he had been saying it all along. She had mouthed to him that she was sorry. Sorry that she lied to him, sorry that she wasn't what she seemed, what exactly was she sorry about? He had so many questions for her. Was his life a dream? And if it was, which part was the dream and which was the reality.
His phone rang and he answered seeing it was Mike. "Hey," he said softly.
"You sound like shit. What the hell happened to you? I went by your place last night and waited for more than an hour but you never showed up and your calls when directly to voicemail. What's going on?"
"I don't know and what I do know, I can't talk about it."
"What the..."
"I can't Mike because I don't think I know what I think I know. I'm..." he sighed heavily.
"Mike, Sally had nothing to do with anything and you or anyone else can get to her right now. Leave it alone. I'll tell you when I've sorted though it myself."
"Storm..."
"I'm at the office. I'll talk with you later. Take care and be careful."
&&&
When Storm got to the office, Melissa, the assistant who took over for Dara when she was out, greeted him. Melissa was being groomed to take over when Dara eventually retired but he wasn't sure he could ever trust an assistant the way his father and Henry trusted Dara, especially after this. It also seemed he wouldn't be getting any of his questions answered today.
"Good morning Mr. Monsello," greeted Melissa. "Dara said your schedule has been modified and has been sent to your computer and the file you requested is on your desk."
"The file?" Storm asked a bit confused.
"Yes. If you need anything else, please let me know."
"Yes, I will. Thank you."
Storm immediately picked up then file when he saw the name, 'Salina A. Carter'. The note on it read, 'Get familiar with the information ASAP. You'll need it tomorrow.' Dara had been to the office already.
He wished he could speak with Dara directly, but knowing her and what he knew now, she was probably finalizing some pre-arranged arrangements. Somewhere, somehow, he was going to have patience. He settled in his chair and opened the folder. The first document that greeted him the will of Arthur Simon Carter, Salina's father. At first glance, it looked simple enough but as he continued reading, he realized it wasn't as simple as it seemed. Due the law not allowing the emancipation of minors, her father had worked around it. He broke the overall control of her estate into several sections with Salina holding the majority of the decision making power. Her guardian was the nanny but the money from the estate was in the hands of specific executives.
None of the executives could make a final decision about her money and the management of the estate without Salina's consent. She could replace anyone she wanted as along as the replacement took place in 30 day of the firing. However, regardless of the situation, she would always hold the controlling vote of the estate, always at 59%. She always had final say regarding her money and well-being. All except her health insurance, just as Madelyn had stated.
By all counts and means, the executives where only names on paper with no true power, and their salaries was a veil used to hide the emancipation of a fourteen-year-old child until her 19th birthday, when they would be removed. On her 23rd birthday she would inherit 75% of the full estate and the remaining 25% on her 25th birthday. Only one thing could interfere with her inheritance; if she was found guilty of a crime. Then she would lose a majority of the money in the estate but never the land and properties. The money would be distributed to various charities, a different one each year until it was finished. No one charity could or would get large sums. He had effectively tied the hands of anyone who thought they could get the money by falsely accusing her of a crime. His plan was brilliant and Salina followed the details exactly.
Next was the information on the investment, the one that he was also an investor and her actual inheritance. Another piece of brilliant work but by Madelyn. Salina's portion of the money was the largest to simulate only a portion of her inheritance. DEA's was 3.5 billion, his 3.5 billion and the rest plus all the interest was Salina's. The money had been in the investment since she was 15, and would mature on her 23rd birthday, which was tomorrow. Statements on the investment were in the file and from the looks of it, Madelyn had done an excellent job as always. The most impressive part of the investment was her actual inheritance. Her father had taken only a few hundred dollars turned it into billions over years and kept everything a secret. It truly was proof of his genius.
Next, was Salina's education and the physical estate. She was educated at the best private school with at least three tutors on payroll. At a very early age, she learnt the responsibility of having such wealth. She wanted for nothing as the estate itself was enormous. So how did a girl, who grew up in such luxuries, so calmly swallow her pride, hide her upbringing and work as a waitress in a strip club, when she had access to more than two billion dollars at her disposal if the need was absolutely necessary?
Storm got up and stretched. He had been reading and researching international investment laws and money transfers for the last three hours. As he looked out the window, he wondered how she was doing. It was useless to call her since he knew her phone would be replaced. Anything that could be used to trace her was gone.
His desk phone rang and Storm looked at it skeptically before deciding to answer.
"Hello?"
"Storm your bags are packed. The car is waiting for you downstairs to take you to your meeting and then to the airport," said Dara.
"Am I going to see you anytime today or tomorrow?"
"Yes. Get going. I'm almost finished here."
Storm sighed and hung up the phone.
&&&
Dara was sitting in the seat in front of him. They were on his private jet going to the Bahamas. She met him at the meeting and they drove to the airport together in silence.
"Are we going to talk about any of it?" Storm asked.
"Did you read the file?" asked Dara.
"Yes, and I'm impressed. But nothing in the file told me about how you got involved with all of this, and yes, I know my father and Henry trusted you more than anyone else in the company but it still doesn't explain anything."
"Henry knew her father. They were very good friends. The type that couldn't speak for years but with a phone call could pick up where they left off. Her father was the investor Henry used. So, when Henry found out what happed to him and then to Salina he helped. Henry fell in love with her almost instantly the first time he met her."
"How old was she?"
"About six I think. She was the daughter he never had. I met her at their second visit. Henry and your dad both loved that she always asked questions, but only to her father; she was shy, I believe still is." Dara smiled as she remembered. "Henry loved that she was razor sharp and tried to convince her father to make her study law, but he was good with figures and so was Salina, and he honed that skill in her. She was privately tutored in several subjects and languages but only Henry knew how many languages. The only two I know of are Spanish and Italian." Dara paused before continuing.
"When her father passed, Henry immediately went to see to her but Ian got to her first. The gardener was killed and her nanny went missing. Salina left clues on how to find her but by the time he found her, she had been beaten almost to death. Henry was able to find June, her nanny and hide her. Salina was brought here under the cover of darkness. DEA wanted the money off the record and he wanted to protect her. So he made the deal, the money would never be recorded and she was granted full citizenship in exchange for the location of the drugs that was scheduled to come in. It was the information Salina had been able to get when Ian kidnapped her. While she was in the hospital, two attempts were made on her life so she was placed in a coma and moved to Henry's mansion. He had underestimated how far Ian's reach was in the DEA. She was given a new identity by MI6 because at that point no one was trusted. It's why nothing shows up for her in our systems. When Henry read he father's will, he realized how to keep her safe; pretend she had the money and it was invested while her father was alive and placed in trust for her. Almost a carbon copy of her inheritance. None of them are any wiser that they could have gotten the money sooner. Everyone brought in to help knows only minute bits and pieces but almost nothing about her and the investment. Only Madelyn and I know the full scope of everything. In other words, she had to stay alive for them to get the money. Your father gave Ian's whereabouts to the cartel who had him killed."
"My father would never..."
"The very minute a threat was made against yours and Ayasha's life. He never hesitated once." Storm looked on stunned. "Mercenaries paid to protect everyone, you, Ayasha and most of all Salina on this day, the day she gets everything."
"How did you get involved or do I need to ask?"
"I would have done anything for them. They saved my life and life of my children from a husband who was going to beat me to death one night. He thought I was having an affair with your father because he was helping me study for my paralegal exam. Your father gave me a chance when I was scared and no one else would. He knew I was being abused but that night my husband turned on my children. He had hit me so hard that I couldn't move to stop him from hitting my son. My youngest tried to stop him but he kicked him. A broken rib at age five not from playing with his friends or even sports but from his own father kicking him as if he was garbage. When your father knocked on the door, I gathered the last of my strength and yelled for help. It was the last thing I remembered before the kick to my head left me unconscious. Your father and Henry saved mine and my children's lives. This was nothing to do to repay them back." A tear ran down Dara's face as she looked out the window. She turned back to look at Storm after a few seconds. "I saw what Ian did to that child. I saw those doctors wonder if she would live."
Storm thought about Salina's nightmares.
&&&
Salina looked outside the window of her bedroom at the ocean. 'I wonder if I could go home today?' she asked her self silently. Today was her birthday and also the day she could die. 'No! Remember what Madelyn said? You have to live for them to get the money'. Turning around, she got her jacket from the bed. Her suit today was nothing like the one she had gotten on sale last year when she began looking about her internship. Thinking of that, she wondered how Mitch was doing. She had not spoken with him since the day she left. Her phone had been taken away and she had yet to receive the new one. It didn't matter anyway because she couldn't tell him anything. She didn't want to begin thinking of the lie she would have to tell him just to keep his friendship. As she buttoned her jacket, she thought about telling him the truth. How could she tell him that she was the person who paid his rent for the two months when he could not or paid her own way so there was enough money for him to go to the conference? No, she couldn't. It would have to remain a secret if she wanted to keep his friendship and at the moment, he was the only friend she had.
Her bodyguards were outside her door and another two by the elevator. The entire floor of the hotel was hers to guarantee her absolute safety. Inside the service elevator were another two bodyguards, a total of six followed her to the car and three vehicles would follow her to the meeting. Arriving at the bank, she was taken to the back entrance and up the private elevator to the floor where the meeting would take place. Madelyn greeted her at the elevator.
"Salina, you look wonderful. I hope I'm the first to wish you Happy Birthday," said Madelyn as she gave her a hug.
"Good morning Madelyn. It's wonderful to see you and I'm sorry but June beat you to it." Madelyn laughed. "I don't know how happy it will be however."
"You will be fine. Everyone is waiting for you inside. You are the most important piece in this game and you're going to win it. School those features and let's play ball."
"Yes, finally, the end."
Madelyn entered the room first followed by the two bodyguards who looked over the room before allowing Salina to enter. She walked in, head held straight as she took notice of everyone. One person stood out but for the life of her, she couldn't remember why. Salina kept her emotions in check as she made her way to the seat she knew was her's, between Norma and Madelyn. It wasn't until she sat down that she finally gave herself permission to look at Storm who sat four seats away from her on her right.
"Glad you showed up little lady, now let's get started shall we?" said Churn from the DEA.
"Her name is Miss Carter and you'll address her as such," Storm said through clenched teeth.
Churn visibly blanched and the men with him shuffled in their seats. Storm was not in a good mood.
"Good morning everyone," Madelyn began, "I hope you all had a restful night. Let's begin as I have several other meetings to attend today." After everyone's acknowledgement, she began again. "We will begin with the one thing everyone is here for, the money in the investment. As you are well aware, this meeting is confidential and shall remain that way. All parties involved are accounted for, Miss Salina Carter, the primary account holder, Storm Monsello, part investor and Mr. Churn, part investor. The distribution of the money will be as originally outline; each party will receive 3.5 billion dollars in US with the all the interest on the account going to Miss. Carter.
"Now wait a minute that seems a bit unfair that we don't..." Churn began
"The agreement is signed and that's the way it will be distributed," asserted Madelyn.
"All I'm saying is that we should be able to get some part of the interest. I didn't know we would have had to wait so long to get the money. None of the information told to us was correct..." Churn stated.
"You can say you didn't understand what you were signing and I understand that," began Norma, "but I am sure the head of the DEA, CIA, FBI and Interpol would love to know how you knew about the money, the investment and when to show up to get it, not to mention several keen figures of the drug cartel. After all if we are going to be blunt this is unrecorded drug money, am I not correct?"
"And you are?" Churn asked Norma.
"Not your concern." Norma turned to Madelyn, "Please keep going."
"Now listen here, you can't come in here and threaten me..." Churn began again.
"I didn't and do not threaten but if you want to take it as such, by all means," Norma addressed Churn before turning back to Madelyn, "please continue."
The men beside him straighten in their seats. Norma noticed one of them looking directly at Salina. She glanced at Salina and saw the look of fear on her face but only for a moment before Salina's features went blank again.
"There is no need..." Churn began again.
"Another useless word out of you and I'll advise my client not to sign those papers and to have the investment roll for another what..." Norma looked at Madelyn.
"Ten years," Madelyn supplied.
"Ten years," Norma said looking back at Churn.
"Fine with me," said Storm, "I don't need the money. Better yet is there a stipulation that gives her everything?"
"Now just a damn minute," Churn yelled angrily.
"Let's go," Norma said to Salina as she got up.
"Okay, okay...wait a damn minute," Churn said standing up. "Just sit back down will you," he said to Norma and Salina who were standing. "Please."
Norma nodded to Salina who sat again before she took her seat.
"What if she was involved with Red...?"
"You slimy bastard!" Storm yelled as he leaped up out of his chair and leaned over the table.
"Storm!" yelled Madelyn, Dara and Norma.
It took a while before he looked away from Churn to the women and sat back down.
"I see you don't want a smooth transfer," said Dara softly. "Churn, please be advised that Henry made special arrangements in case this transfer didn't go as smoothly as it should. The path you are trying to take it down will not be a pleasant one for you."
"Is that a threat?" Churn asked Dara.
Dara looked at him dead on. "Dead men tell no tale."
Churn visibly swallowed. "Where do I sign?"
Madelyn handed him the paper.
|
Odin wanted a wall. Laufey had not been expecting it. In fact on the list of things he and his council had been expecting Odin to ask for this had not even registered.
“Around the Palace.” Laufey confirmed.
“Yes. The old one is looking quite worn. I would like another one, and my father always said that Jotun made the best builders.” Odin replied calmly.
“And in return you will give us the casket.” Laufey said.
“That is the general idea, there are, of course, some fine details that we must establish. For example, how long it will take, how many Jotun will be required, whether they are to stay in Asgard or return to Jotunheim at night, what they need to eat, what will happen if either side breaks the contract and in what ways. There are many things to consider.” Odin said.
Laufey was suspicious.
“In one thousand years you have not trusted us enough to return he casket.” He said.
“I trust that you will not hurt Loki, waging war on his family will hurt him. I also expect you to agree, formally, not to use the casket to attack other realms, as we will be forced to defend them.” Odin said in the same, too reasonable tone of voice.
“I see.” Laufey said. “It seems we have more to discuss than I thought.”
“So do you agree in principal that we can make an arrangement? If so we can begin working out the details. I fear they will take some time and I do not wish to be away from Asgard any longer than necessary.” Odin said.
“In principal, yes I believe we can come to an arrangement.” Laufey said.
Odin smiled a small smile.
“Excellent. I imagine you will need to discuss the works with your builders before we negotiate properly. For now we can move on if you wish.”
“Move on? You have more?” Laufey asked.
“Queen Frigga’s visits in exchange for a trader seemed very reasonable, but when would the trader come? How long do you think they will stay? Are they buying, selling or both?” Odin asked.
He was enjoying this, Laufey could tell.
Odin was hating every minute of the negotiations. His head hurt from trying to keep ahead of Laufey while simultaneously trying to unravel the complex spell that lay over the Jotun King’s body. They had been speaking for barely an hour and already he could feel the strain pressing down upon him.
A major building commission was always full of complicated details that needed working out. It was perfect for stalling and at least partly plausible, the Jotun had built most of Asgard from what Odin’s father had told him. Things had been so very different back then.
“I was also hoping, for Frigga’s sake, that Loki might attend the annual anniversary of my coronation. Asgard will extend an official invitation of course.” He said.
Laufey gave Odin an old fashioned look.
“We’re busy.” He said flatly.
“She will be disappointed.” Odin said calmly.
He had not expected that one to succeed.
“The trader will both buy and sell. He will come once a month for one hour *not* including travelling time to and from the Bifrost. One hour from the moment he sets foot in the marketplace to peddle his wares. You will ensure he is protected, with royal guards if necessary.” Laufey said.
“I trust you will extend Frigga the same courtesy? One hour with Loki, not one hour in Jotunheim.” Odin replied.
“Agreed.” Laufey said.
He resisted the urge to check the time. These negotiations were ridiculous! Jotunheim and Asgard would never be allies! He took a calming breath.
“Should we renegotiate the arrangement in three months? If it goes well you may wish for the trader to have more time, or to send more traders.” Odin asked.
“One year.” Laufey said grumpily. “We can assess the situation and renegotiate in one year *if* we see a reason to change.”
“Six months.” Odin countered. “A year is a long time, and we do not have to renegotiate everything, just the trader.”
Laufey stood firm.
“One year, Allfather, unless you wish to arrive on the cusp of the next Darkening?”
“I see, yes, you are right, one year is better then.” Odin said. “With the option to request renegotiations if either side feels it cannot wait?”
“No.” Laufey refused to give way.
Odin looked disappointed, but inclined his head in agreement.
“Very well. What about food?”
“What about it?”
“Frigga has been sending Loki regular amounts of food. We do not need a trader to act as a go between if we work out a direct agreement between us. Is there a market for Asgard food here on Jotunheim? I know we used to line our coats with fur from your hunts. Perhaps we can set up a trade of some kind, a certain number of furs for each parcel of food? We will of course continue sending things to Loki, but for the rest of you?”
“I do not think that is necessary.” Laufey said.
Thrym made a slight noise behind him.
“Then again.” Laufey corrected in an annoyed tone.
He turned to glare at Thrym who was looking innocent.
“Excellent. I can have a menu of Asgard foods brought with me tomorrow. I’m sure we can work something out.” Odin said with a smile.
Laufey wanted to hit him.
Loki showed Thor the library, the training grounds, some of the rebuilt castle and finally, the royal chambers, where they sat and drank a cup of ber each. Thor was quite fond of the taste.
“Not as good as mead though brother.” He said patriotically.
Loki didn’t answer. All morning his attempts to get an answer out of Thor about their father’s plans had been met with nervous silence. Thor hadn’t so much as winked at him to indicate something was afoot. Odin had to be negotiating for Loki’s release, why else would he be in Jotunheim?
Thor was chatting in a bright, brittle way about the Warriors Three and their latest quest. Thor’s contribution was noticeably absent.
“Where were you when that fight was going on?” Loki asked.
He was not enjoying hearing about how life in Asgard had moved on.
“I wasn’t there.” Thor said. “I stayed at home. It didn’t feel right, questing without you.”
Loki was touched. Thor loved going on quests, fighting things and boasting about it afterwards. They were his three favourite things to do.
“You don’t have to wait for me.” Loki said. “I think I’ll be a while.”
He studied Thor’s face hard for any sign that he might be wrong. Thor looked guilty and took a long drink of his ber.
“Thor? Why didn’t father acknowledge me? Everyone knows I’m his son, there is no shame in greeting family.” Loki said in a quiet voice.
“Father is doing what he can.” Thor said. “Tell me about the Darkening. Mother said you saved some children, that is a feat worth speaking of.”
Loki gave him a long, slow stare. Long enough for Thor’s desperate smile to freeze in place.
“Alright.” He said slowly, and began to tell Thor about the sleeping children and the way he’d summoned the light.
At lunchtime they two groups met up. Thor returned to his father’s side at one end of the table. Loki had to sit by Laufey at the other. All through the meal Loki tried to catch his father’s eye, but Odin spent most of his time watching Laufey.
Laufey could sense Loki’s distress. He didn’t understand how Odin could so easily abandon his child. It was as though the moment he gave up trying to get Loki back he also gave up being Loki’s father.
Laufey would have assumed it was an Asgard custom if not for Loki’s obvious bewilderment. It seemed Odin had never truly cared for his second son and had only tried to get him back because he was a useful pawn in the game of politics. Having decided that recovering him was too great a price, he had instead turned all his energies to gaining what he could from Jotunheim.
Callous bastard.
Laufey vowed then and there to make these negotiations as difficult as possible for the Allfather, even if it took a month to complete them.
No one upset his mate, especially not Odin All-but-one-father.
He turned his attention to Loki.
“Have you eaten enough?” He asked.
“Yes, thankyou.” Loki said without taking his eyes off Odin.
‘Oh Loki, give him up, he’s already dismissed you.’ Laufey thought.
“It’s just that you have cleaned you plate, are you sure? There is more.” He said.
“I’m fine, thankyou.” Loki said.
Odin was watching them while talking to Thor, who looked upset.
‘At least one of them has a heart.’ Laufey thought to himself.
Thrym was on his second helping. He watched with shrewd eyes at the different factions sitting around the table. Loki was headed for a meltdown. He was wound so tightly, putting so much of his heart into his father and Odin was acting as though his son was little more than a window dressing. He was more like a stone wall than a person where Loki was concerned.
Thrym thought he could see where some of Loki’s behavioural problems had come from. Distant parents were a terrible burden for their children to bear.
Thor was under strain, no doubt he had spent his morning trying to avert what was already in motion. He looked miserable as he picked at the specially warmed Jotun food.
Laufey was tense, but then he was always going to be. His opinion of the Allfather was already low and having to deal with him directly was a challenge to his already small store of patience.
Odin himself was the most difficult to fathom. He had a reputation as a good king, and a good king would do exactly what he was doing, turning the situation to Asgard’s best advantage. But even so, no one would have thought less of him if he had hugged his son. Thrym might have even dredged up a tiny sliver of respect.
He had no hope of earning that now.
Thor wanted to see the Grur. He had killed one by flying through its throat back when Loki’s ‘adventure’ first began. After lunch they walked to the stables together as Loki described the Hunt.
“That sounds amazing.” Thor said. “I would like to see it.”
“Maybe in a million years.” Loki said dryly.
They reached the stable and strolled among the beasts. Thor craned his neck upwards at the Grur above them.
“They are tame?” He asked.
“These ones are. There are some wild ones in the far south lands, or so Laufey told me.” Loki answered.
“Does he mistreat you, Loki? Thor asked suddenly. “Apart from, uh…”
“Apart from that? No, he doesn’t. He’d make a great husband to *someone else*.” Loki said, failing to keep the bitterness from his voice.
Thor reached out and gripped his shoulder tightly.
“You will be alright.” He said.
He looked like he wanted to say more but instead turned away and continued down the stable to where the Prur were housed.
“Now that is a massive beast.” Thor said. “You wouldn’t starve with those in your stable.”
“They aren’t for eating, and the only time we are at risk of starvation is during the Darkening, they are above ground and hibernating then.” Loki said.
“What are they used for when you are not on the Hunt?” Thor asked.
“I don’t know.” Loki confessed. “I could ask Laufey.”
“It’s not important.” Thor said, shaking his head. “Are you allowed to train? I have missed your challenging style.”
“You mean you couldn’t find a sorcerer to keep you on your toes?” Loki asked with a slight smile.
“For some reason they do not enjoy the challenge.” Thor said.
“I am allowed to train, but I think it would be better if we told everyone of our intentions first. You don’t want a couple of hundred Jotun coming to my defence.” Loki said as they turned and made their way back to the entrance to the stables.
“I…wouldn’t.” Thor said slowly. “It wouldn’t be very helpful.”
“Maybe you could fight some of them in friendly combat?” Loki said. “I’m sure there are a few who would relish the chance to face the heir of Asgard.”
“Perhaps.” Thor said.
Loki looked over at his brother as they walked. Thor was nervous about the negotiations. Something was going on but he wouldn’t breathe a word. Loki took a deep breath and reminded himself to be patient. There were other ways of finding thing out.
The first day ended with hundreds of little details still to be resolved. Laufey had a headache from Odin’s constant wrangling, and farewelled the Asgard with the bare minimum of politeness.
That night he pulled Loki close and stroked his back firmly, as if to remind himself that Loki was really here, really his and no one could take him away.
Loki was quiet. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.
“How was your day with Thor?” Laufey asked.
“Fine.” Loki said distantly.
“Did he make a good map of our castle?” Laufey asked, trying to insert a slight drop of humour into the conversation.
“Not that I know of.” Loki answered.
He burrowed down against the furs, pressing more firmly into Laufey’s side.
“I’m sure Odin just wants to get the formalities out of the way.” Laufey lied.
Loki didn’t answer.
“Kings have a lot to think about.” Laufey continued.
He could barely believe he was trying to defend Odin of all people.
“Did he ask you to give me back?” Loki asked in a muffled voice, as his face was pressed against Laufey’s skin.
Laufey hesitated, which gave Loki his answer. He sat up suddenly.
“Why not!” He yelled. “He’s my father! Why is he leaving me here?”
“You belong here Loki.” Laufey said, reaching up to draw Loki back to him.
Loki pulled out of his grasp and knelt on the furs.
“I know you think that, everyone thinks that! But Father shouldn’t think that! Why didn’t he ask for me?”
“He did ask, a hundred days ago when the Darkening finished. I made it clear to him that you belonged *here*.” Laufey said, trying to keep the anger from his voice.
Loki made a growl of frustration.
“He’d never accept that.” Loki snapped. “I’m his son.”
Laufey shook his head.
“Loki, please calm down. Odin will do what is best for Asgard, you must have known growing up with him that sometime he had to make difficult choices.”
“Not like this.” Loki said, but he looked uncertain.
Laufey succeeded in slipping a hand around Loki’s waist and pulling him back down.
“I’m sure now that the negotiations are underway he will make some time for the two of you.” He said. “I’ll ask him tomorrow when he wants to.”
Loki frowned at him.
“Promise?” He asked.
“I promise.” Laufey replied.
Loki relaxed slightly.
“Can I take Thor to Utgard?” He asked a minute later.
“Only if you also take Thrym and a band of warriors. The people have no love for the Asgard.” Laufey said, hoping this concession would keep Loki satisfied. “And he is not to break anything.”
“He won’t.” Loki said.
“I’m not convinced.” Laufey replied dryly. |
"Alya!" Marinette muttered under her breath as she paced back and forth with her phone pressed against her ear. "Come on! Come on! Pick up!"
"You've reached my voicemail. I'm probably out chasing the latest bit on Ladybug. Leave a message!" Alya said brightly. Marinette grit her teeth and smashed the end call button before the tone to leave message sounded. What was the point? Alya wasn't going to check it.
"I'm going to kill her!" Marinette hissed as she looked away from her phone. She desperately tried to ignore the building anxiety in her chest and suppress the urge to scream. "Alya is so dead when I get my hands on her. Middle of an akuma fight and she disappears again. And she got mad at me for the Chat Blanc thing!"
What is that old definition of insanity? Marinette redialed Alya's number for the fourth time since she'd disappeared to go stake out the latest akuma attack. It went straight to voicemail. Marinette clenched her phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white. That definition of insanity? Oh yeah, doing the same thing over and over again and expecting to get different results each time.
Marinette dropped her phone and listened. The fight had spilled outside the school but that had been nearly ten minutes ago. She didn't hear panicked screaming anymore. It didn't look as though the windows down the hall were about to shake out of their frames. If she had to take a wild guess, Marinette would say that the fight was over. If so... where was Alya?
Someone was yelling and running down the hall somewhere close to her. It was coming her way. Marinette tuned it out of her head. She had more important things to worry about. She looked down at her phone one more time. There was still no message from Alya, text or otherwise. She absolutely hated when Alya did this to her! It wasn't fair. Marinette went to the Ladyblog's website. There were no new photos or videos up. Just a blog post from nearly fifteen minutes ago announcing the akuma attack. Old news pretty much. Marinette scowled as she hit the home screen and went back to her recent calls.
One more time. I'll try her one more time. Not that she knew what she would do if she couldn't get ahold of Alya. Maybe she would...
"Coming through!"
"Huh?" Marinette looked up a half second too late.
Crash!
A cry pulled from Marinette's lips as she and whoever had rammed into her fell to the ground in a pile of limbs and flailing. Her school bag saved her elbow from the majority of the pain from falling but at the cost of sending all her papers and books fluttering through the air. Her hipbone and knees banged against the floor and sent a shooting pain firing through her nerves.
"My apologies Princess." said the silky voice of the person who'd hit her. It came out as practically a purr. She looked up and gasped.
"Chat... Chat Blanc?" Marinette whispered in complete and other shock.
"We've got to stop meeting like this." he winked at her as he pushed himself up off of her. "Oops, your stuff! Here let me help you with that."
Chat Blanc scurried off of her and scrambled to scoop up her papers. Marinette sat up, staring at him with wide eyes, and numbly collected papers around her. If Alya even said anything about Chat Blanc this time Marinette was going to smack her. It wasn't her fault this time.
"Chat Blanc!" Ladybug's angry voice bounced down the hallway. Both she and Chat Blanc jumped. Chat Blanc froze. His hand hovered over the top of one of her books. He looked up and past Marinette's shoulder. Marinette's eyes landed straight on the fencing foil on his hip like they'd been drawn there magnetically. Something akin to pure dread curled through her.
Chat Blanc's foil sang through the air, locking up against Cat Noir's staff. The sneer on his face was downright feral. Ruthlessly, he shoved Cat Noir away and sent him careening to the ground. Cat Noir just barely caught himself before Chat Blanc lunged forward. The foil hit the ground rather than Cat Noir's skin as he rolled out of the way. Chat Blanc's lips twisted into a livid snarl. He raised his foil again…
Marinette's throat swelled shut and her eyes went wide. Sure he'd saved her from being crushed from the stair railing but Chat Blanc was an akuma. An akuma that was currently being chased by Ladybug and Cat Noir currently. Marinette doubted that he was all too keen on being caught… again. Just how far would he go, she wondered, to protect himself? She balled her hand into a fist, prepared to put Chat Blanc on his back. Hit and run, she chanted to herself, he moves to hold you hostage, you hit him and run!
Chat Blanc gave a look over his shoulder and grimaced. He turned to look at her again. "Terribly sorry for running into you Princess. Please forgive me."
Marinette braced herself. She tightened her fist. Her nails dug into the skin of her palm. Here it came!
He snatched her hand off the ground and pulled it to him. Marinette's fist came up and then stopped. Chat Blanc pressed her knuckles to his lips and kissed them. Her eyes just about bugged out of her head. Wait! Hold on a minute! What?
He flipped her hand over and stuffed her papers into her open palm. "Catch ya later!"
Chat Blanc jumped to his feet and sprinted down the hall. Marinette flipped her hand over and stared at the place where he'd kissed her. "Marinette!" someone called her name but she was still trying to get her brain to reboot.
Red fingerless gloves grabbed her shoulder. Marinette found herself looking right at Ladybug. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?" she demanded.
Marinette found her tongue and somehow got it to work. "I'm… I'm fine."
Ladybug and Cat Noir visibly relaxed. Cat Noir stepped forward next to Ladybug and the pair helped her to her feet. "Did you see which way he went?" Cat Noir asked.
She raised her hand and pointed in the direction that Chat Blanc had rushed off in. A beep cut through the air. Ladybug let an irritated shriek cut through her clenched teeth. "We're out of time!" she told Cat Noir.
Cat Noir glanced at his ring. His shoulders fell forward. "You're right. We gotta go."
"Wait!" Marinette called after them before they had a chance to leave. "My friend, Alya… she runs the Ladyblog. I haven't seen her since this entire thing started. Have you… have you seen her?"
Ladybug whipped around. There was a big smile on her face. "Alya? Oh yeah! Of course. She's fine. Saw her outside. She's probably just running a little behind on getting inside. Don't be too angry with her when she gets back." Ladybug waved her hand dismissively.
Behind her Cat Noir smacked himself in the forehead. Marinette rolled her eyes. She made no promises. Even still she let out a pent up breath that she hadn't realized she was holding. At least Alya was safe… somewhere.
"Ladybug, our identities." Cat Noir insisted. He latched on to Ladybug's hand, pulled her in front of him, and started pushing her back down the hall.
They disappeared from sight. Marinette shook her head and shoved her papers into her bag. Her phone was still laying on the ground. As she bent to pick it up, it was clear that Alya still hadn't messaged her. However, just as she was about to try calling Alya again Marinette's phone lit up. Marinette punched the button to accept the call. "You are in so much trouble!" Marinette told Alya before she even had a chance to plead her case.
X X X
"Thank you Papa!" Marinette called sweetly as she took the plate of cookies. He was barely back through the trap door and she just turned around before she popped one into her mouth. She smiled. They were still warm. Too bad Alya had a so called "study date" with Nino tonight. She always loved cookies. Marinette barely ever got more than one whenever she came over. Alya had such a raging sweet tooth on her that Marinette had once caught her putting cookies in her bookbag to eat later. All the color had drained out of her face the first time Marinette had seen her do it. She'd been so embarrassed and Marinette had felt bad for laughing at her. She'd made it up to Alya by bringing an entire box of cookies the next day at school.
Marinette sat her plate down on her desk before walking to her bookbag on the chaise lounge. She had to fight to keep the scowl off her face as she pulled out the contents of her bag. Chat Blanc had done a number on her organizational system. Okay, so it wasn't like she was super duper organized but still! She'd known exactly what stack of papers her math homework had been in when she'd left class that afternoon. Then along came Chat Blanc. Marinette sighed. She knew she really shouldn't have been complaining. At least he'd helped pick up the things he'd knocked out of her bag despite the fact that Ladybug and Cat Noir had been chasing him. It could've been a lot worse. He could've used her as a human shield instead. She tried very hard not to think about Chat Blanc and his sudden reappearance as she sifted through several handouts. "Classwork, classwork, notes, last week's homework, more classwork... Alya's classwork? Good job Alya. And she calls me scatterbrained!"
She rolled her eyes and set Alya's random work off to the side so she'd remember to give it back. Marinette grabbed another stack of papers to sift through. Nimbly, she flipped past paper after paper of things that wasn't her math homework. Her fingers froze at the top of a stapled stack of papers though. All her work was signed with her name using little hearts to dot the "I"s and thick lines through the "T"s at the top of the paper. The stapled stack of papers was signed with only a simple dot on the "I" and downward slash through the "T." Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. "Amice Fontaine? Why do I have an upperclassman's paper?"
She pulled it from the stack of papers in her hand, noticing that the homework she was looking for was right underneath. However, now she was too focused on Amice Fontaine's paper. Marinette flipped it over curiously. It was definitely a test... probably the test that Mademoiselle Bustier had told her class about. The one that was supposedly really important. Marinette flipped through the pages. There was no grade on it but it was finished. Whether or not the answers were correct were beyond Marinette but all the same. This was someone's ungraded test! "How did it get into my bag?"
Then another thought occurred to her. "Oh no! What if I get in trouble? What if Madame Mendeleev thinks I stole this? I'll get kicked out of school! Mama and Papa will have to homeschool me. They'll be so disappointed in me. I'll never get to see Adrien again because I'll be grounded for life and homeschooled!" gasped Marinette as she stared at the test in her hand with utter horror.
No! No! No! This couldn't be happening. Sure she might have accidentally on purpose taken someone's phone before but she'd always made sure to get it back to them before the owners missed them. How was she supposed to give Amice Fontaine back her test? She didn't even know her! Maybe she could sneak into Mme. Mendeleev's room and put it on her desk. No, that wouldn't work. Mme. Mendeleev would wonder how the test had gotten there. It would be too suspicious to just have an important and ungraded exam to just pop up on the teacher's desk the day after the exam! Marinette couldn't just not give it back though! Especially if it was as important as Mlle. Bustier had told the class it was. Maybe she could…
Thump, thump!
Marinette shrieked and clutched the test to her chest. She spun around to face the noise. Her eyes went wide. Sitting in on her window sill like some kind of phantom in the night was Chat Blanc. His hand was still closed in a fist and hovering above the glass. Marinette stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over her own two feet in a moment of beautiful uncoordinated loss of balance. She reached for something, anything, to defend herself with. Her hands closed around her favorite fabric scissor right as Chat Blanc slid her window up and open. "It's alright! It's alright! I'm not going to hurt you!" he insisted emphatically, reaching one hand towards her.
"Don't come any closer!" she snapped. Marinette pointed the end of her scissors at him and he pulled his hand back so quick someone might have thought she'd burned him. She clutched the scissors tighter to try and hide the fact that her hands were shaking. It was probably too late already.
"Okay, okay." Chat Blanc said quietly. His entire posture changed. He rolled his shoulders forward and relaxed from the stiff crouch he'd been sitting on her ledge with. His face softened. His faux white cat ears drooped slightly. It was like he'd gone from potentially vicious alley cat to cute and cuddly kitten. "I won't come in. I promise." he assured her calmly.
Marinette felt her scissors start to slip downward. She hadn't expected that to come out of an akuma's mouth. She hadn't expected him to sound so sincere. Truly sincere. Marinette swallowed back the lump that had formed in her throat. Chat Blanc's foot jerked sideways. Marinette snapped the scissors back up. He openly winced. "What do you want? Why are you here?" she demanded.
"That's...um, that's a really good question actually." Chat Blanc replied. He ran a hand through his hair and gave her a grin that she could only describe as sheepish. Wait! Was he embarrassed? That seemed like a gesture that was ripe with embarrassment. Okay, why was a super powerful, ultra dangerous akuma embarrassed.
"Then answer it." Marinette glared at him.
"Uh..."
"Well? I'm waiting?" Her knuckles were white around the scissors. "Or I can scream and make a lot of noise."
Chat Blanc went pale. "Please don't do that. I just came to pick something up."
"Pick something up?" she repeated incredulously. Without really meaning to, she quirked an eyebrow. "And please tell me what exactly you think is here for you to pick up?"
"The thing is I when I ran into you this afternoon I might have, you know, mixed up a few papers with yours." There was something off with the way he said it though. Marinette knew exactly why.
"You ran away empty handed. Nothing got mixed up." she told him shortly. Chat Blanc laughed nervously under his breath. Once more he was rubbing the back of his neck and wouldn't look her in the eye. "Why are you really here and don't lie this time."
"I wasn't lying!" he exclaimed. His voice carried, about an octave higher than his speaking voice. Marinette jumped. Chat Blanc threw his hand over his mouth, looking past her towards the back wall of Marinette's room. Searching for her door, she realized, and waiting to see if anyone would come bursting through it. He looked at her with wide imploring eyes as he dropped his hand from his mouth. "I wasn't lying," he repeated in a much, much quieter voice. "You do have something of mine."
"I'm fairly certain that I don't." Marinette told him evenly.
He groaned and beat the heel of his palm against his forehead. His cheeks flushed bright red. "I...uh... Here's the thing." he stuttered. "I kinda, I kinda used you this afternoon."
"You what?" she snapped.
"I'm sorry!" His hands flailed in front of his body like he was trying to direct traffic. All his words tumbled out in one massive tidal wave rush. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to. I mean, I kinda had to. Ladybug and Cat Noir were right behind me and I couldn't let them catch me so I sorta used you as a distraction and then I slipped something into your stack of papers when I knocked into you on purpose. I'm sorry. I feel horrible about it. I really do!"
Marinette blinked. "You know you're supposed to breath in between sentences right kitty cat?"
His faux ears drooped even lower. How on Earth had she ever been scared of this guy? It was like he was completely different from the Chat Blanc that had fought with Ladybug and Cat Noir. He honestly looked like he would be better suited to chasing butterflies than chasing after Paris's grand heroes. Chat Blanc took a breath...finally. "I slipped something really important into your school bag when I was putting your things into it. You might have already noticed it. A test. It belonged to Open Book, well Amice Fontaine anyways."
The ungraded test seemed to glare up at her. It was crushed and wrinkled now since she'd been clutching it right along with the scissors. "You stuck this in my bag?" she demanded as she waved it in the air. Chat Blanc nodded, guilt clearly covering his face. "Do you have any idea how important this test is?"
"Probably a little bit more than you do." he mumbled. Marinette glared at him.
"Why did you even have it in the first place?"
"I, well you know, sorta stole it." he shrugged. Marinette gaped at him. Chat Blanc gave her a hopeful little smile and stretched his hand out to her. "So can I have it now?"
"No!" Marinette snapped. "Definitely not! How dare you. What were you trying to do by planting it on me? Were you just trying to cause problems for me or did you just think it would be fun to maybe get me in trouble?"
"No! No! That's not it at all! I just needed to hide the test so I could come back for it later." Chat Blanc drew back. His eyes were so wide that Marinette was sure that they were going to pop out of his skull. "That's test turned Amice Fontaine into Open Book. I grabbed it when Ladybug and Cat Noir were busy taking care of her after the fight."
"Why? Why was it so imperative that you snatch it from it's owner?"
"I don't know! I don't know okay! The thing that told me to take it didn't exactly explain why I needed to grab it. They just kinda pushed me towards it." Chat Blanc made some kind of sideways pushing motion with his hands as he said it.
"What thing? Your akuma?" Marinette crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot.
"Yes! I mean, no. Not… not exactly anyways."
"Is this some kind of plot to steal Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous because if you think for one second that I'm going to let some akuma…"
"I'm not an akuma!" Chat Blanc cried out, desperately.
Marinette ran her eyes up and down him. "Uh-huh, yeah sure."
"I mean I was but I'm not now."
She drew a sharp breath through her nose. "The stair railing that would've crushed me had you not pushed me away… that was fixed. Ladybug only does that after she cleanses an akuma."
"Exactly." Chat Blanc spread his arms open wide. "Not an akuma. I promise."
"Then why are you, Chat Blanc, still here?"
"Long story," he said dismissively. "I don't care about stealing Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous. I have something more pressing to…"
His voice dropped off suddenly. Actually, Chat Blanc snapped his mouth shut. Marinette even heard his teeth and jaw clack together that's how quickly he stopped talking. She cocked an eyebrow. "What's more pressing to worry about?"
"I… I can't answer that?" he mumbled.
"And why's that?" Marinette asked.
"I just can't. Please, now can you let me have the test. I'm not going to cause any sort of horrific atrocity with it. I won't bother you again."
"Let me get this straight. You have no clue why you were asked to steal this test. You have no idea what it could be or what it could do. But it all has something to do with having something better to do than chase after Ladybug and Cat Noir."
"Yes, exactly. Now about that test? Can I please have it?"
"I'm giving it back to Amice Fontaine tomorrow at school." she replied, deadpan.
"Oh! Come on!" whined Chat Blanc. He ran his hand through his hair. Marinette was pretty certain that he'd bang his head on her window frame with a little more prodding.
"Don't give me that!" she jabbed her finger at him. "You use me as a hiding place, putting my reputation as a good student with integrity at risk. Then you come swanning over here, scare the living daylights out of me, ask me for an item that doesn't belong to you in the first place without giving me any good reason why."
"I just said…" he started desperately.
"You have a lot of nerve kitty cat." Marinette growled. Chat Blanc muttered something under his breath that she didn't catch. "What was that?"
He turned bright red, "Nothing!"
Marinette groaned and scrubbed her face with her hand. "Why'd you have to put me in the middle."
"I told you. Ladybug and Cat Noir were right behind me. I had to get away from them and if I'd been holding that test it would have been a dead giveaway to who I was. If I'm going to do what I want to do then it really works out better that Ladybug and Cat Noir not know my identity. If you catch my drift."
She pursed her lip and nodded slowly. "You're sure that Ladybug purified your akuma?"
"Um… yes." he nodded.
"Riiight…" Marinette sighed. Chat Blanc looked at her in confusion. "Chat Blanc, I don't know how to tell you this so I'm just going to come right out and say it."
"Say what?"
"You know how when Ladybug purifies an akuma all the damage from the fight goes away and the person turns back to normal. I mean you've seen videos of it on the unofficial blog right? Typically, he or she comes back to their senses and is really confused about what happens."
"Oh," A look of horror spread across Chat Blanc's face. Apparently, realization was starting to sink in. Marinette wasn't exactly sure how he hadn't thought of it yet.
"And Ladybug and Cat Noir are usually standing right there." Marinette pointed to the ground to emphasize her point. Chat Blanc went pale and his hands looked like they were starting to go slack around her window frame. Marinette dropped her scissors and the test as she jumped forward. "Snap out of it!" she told him as she grabbed on to his wrists to keep him from falling out the window.
"Ladybug and Cat Noir already know who I am." he whispered. The look on his face was completely horrified.
"Most likely," nodded Marinette. "If they haven't already come looking for your alter ego for an explanation then they'll be coming soon."
"I'd better get working on that then." he mumbled half-heartedly.
"I can't believe you didn't think about that earlier. I mean, it seems kind of important if you ask me."
"Uh-huh," was his response. That's when Marinette realized the million miles away look in his eyes. He was standing rigid in front of her window and all the color seemed to have drained out of his face.
"Chat? Chat Blanc?" Marinette called to him. She shook his shoulder but it was no use. It was like he was no longer in the same room as her. She might as well have been shaking her desk chair. Whatever he was thinking about had completely wrapped him up and Marinette was certain that there was no way that he was going to tell her about it.
His hand rose to clutch the golden bell hanging at his neck. Wait. No. Marinette couldn't see what it was exactly but there was something under his bell. "I have to go." he said abruptly as he turned on his heel back towards the window.
"Wait! Hold on a minute." she grabbed hold of his tail slash belt thingy and jerked him back inside. Chat Blanc gave a little cry as he fell back into her room. "You're leaving? Just like that? After all that convincing you tried to do to get me to give you that test, you're just going to leave."
Chat Blanc pulled his tail out of her hand and stroked it like she'd actually hurt him, full on pout on his lips. "I just remembered something else. I can't take that test with me to where I'm going. It's too risky."
"So you're what... just going to leave it here with me?"
"It will be safer with here with you than it would be with me." explained Chat Blanc.
"Oh no, nononononono!" Marinette waved her hands in front of her body. "I'm giving it back to Amice Fontaine tomorrow at school."
"No you won't," he told her firmly. He sounded so sure of his answer. Marinette narrowed her eyes at him.
"I beg your pardon."
"You won't give Amice Fontaine back her test because, as we've already concluded, we have no idea what this test could do if it fell into the wrong hands or why it's important. We can't take that risk."
Marinette started to protest. She even raised her finger menacingly. Her mouth was open and the words were halfway formed...until she realized that Chat Blanc had an excellent point. She grit her teeth, "Screw you, you're right."
"Of course I am. I can't believe that you didn't see it my way sooner. I thought I was being pawsitively clear about it all." he said.
"Did you just make a pun?" Marinette stared at him.
The thing that was under his bell flared, lighting the bell up. Chat Blanc glanced down and wrapped his hand around it once more. "I've really got to go now."
This time when he turned he made sure that his tail was out of her grasp. He pulled himself up on to her window frame, spun to face her, and gave a gentlemanly bow. A grade A showoff. That's exactly what Chat Blanc was. "I'll come back in a couple of days when I know more. Until then, I will catch you later Princess."
"Wait! Hold on a minute!" Marinette's eyes went wide as she realized the full meaning of his words. Chat Blanc was already leaping out her window though. She charged after him. Her hands clenched the window frame. He was nowhere in sight. "I never said I'd keep it for you! Get back here you mangy alley cat!" she shouted after him at the top of her lungs.
A few lights came on in the buildings beside hers. There was a firm knock on her trapdoor. "Sweetheart? Are you alright? I heard you yelling." called her father as the door swung open.
Marinette jumped and twisted to look at him. He was staring at her concerned. She offered him a weak smile and a thin laugh. "Yes Papa. I'm fine...there was a, uh, a stray cat in my window sill. The dumb thing took off with some yarn I was going to be using for a project." she lied, folding her hands behind her back.
Her father raised an eyebrow at her. However, after a moment, he simply shrugged. "Make sure don't start feeding it. Otherwise you'll have the entire stray population of the neighborhood at your window sweetheart." he told her.
"Right! Of course Papa. I won't!" she promised. No it was just them leaving random formerly possessed items in her bedroom that was the problem. Her father gave her a smile and a nod before disappearing back down the trapdoor again. Marinette waited until she was sure he was gone, then she bent to pick the test off the ground. A heavy weight settled in her chest. It looked innocent enough, like it couldn't hurt a fly. Looks were deceiving though and incredibly so. I know that from personal experience, she thought as she pulled an empty folder off of her desk.
Uneasiness twisted around her middle. Two very distinct images were seared into her mind. The dark, deadly look on Chat Blanc's face as she'd watched his gleaming foil pierce the air by Ladybug...and the soft, sheepish, and honest look in Chat Blanc's eyes as he apologized to her for using her. Two completely different facets of the same boy. There was a lot more that met the eye with Chat Blanc.
Marinette slipped Amice Fontaine's test into the empty folder. "Just what did I get myself into?" she murmured to herself as she closed the folder, sticking it in the bottom of a desk drawer. |
Glancing at the clock, Sirius let out a heavy sigh. He swore the minutes were ticking backward. Though the windows in his office, he could see his brother leant over the reception desk chatting to the peppy blonde they’d hired a few weeks ago. The most hilarious part was the fact that his brother wasn’t remotely interested in peppy blondes like her. The second, only slightly less hilarious part was knowing her reaction if she had any idea what Regulus was like outside the office.
But they were professionals of course which meant Reg was less than likely to parade round in his much preferred calf-length black skirts, band tees, and vampire red nail polish.
No, much like Sirius he was in his casual week-day suit with his hair tucked in a low bun at the nape of his neck.
The brothers were too alike, sometimes. It hadn’t always been that way. When Reg was under his mother’s thumb and Sirius was kicked out onto the streets—not that the Potters had let him stay there long—but it had taken the death of one parent, and the early-onset Alzheimer’s in the other which drew Reg and Sirius back together.
Or as back as they could be. Regulus was busy running the firm whilst Sirius was busy making clients happy. Sirius was the one with artistic vision, Regulus was the one with business savvy.
Which is why Regulus was currently leant at the desk chatting-up a woman he was not remotely interested in whilst Sirius was seconds away from tearing his hair out because he couldn’t get the fucking thing to work properly. He could see it in his mind’s eye. He knew what the client wanted, but he couldn’t make it appear on paper.
Bending low over his table, he pressed his forehead to the drawing paper, squeezed the pencil in his hand, and let out a long, low growl.
“That sort of day, is it?”
Sirius’ head snapped up at the barely familiar voice. A voice which was new in his life, and yet he was not going to forget any time soon.
Spinning round, his grey eyes took in the sight of the tall, lanky, patch-work coat wearing Remus Lupin currently leant against his doorframe. Remus looked a bit worse for the wear—likely jetlag since he’d been out of the country for the better part of three weeks, bags under his eyes and his beanie over what looked like unwashed curls.
“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, his eyes going a bit wide. They’d been dating—sort of. Nothing official, but whenever Remus was in London he found himself at Sirius’ office or flat chatting him up, or if he was in the latter, fucking him senseless until morning. But they didn’t talk often between visits, occasional texts here and there, but they were both busy.
“Well I just got in, and wanted to see you,” Remus said, as though it was the simplest answer of all time. “James said you’d be here.”
Sirius’ eyebrows shot up. “You saw James?”
“I had a reading and signing today. You know that manky little shop near Piccadilly? Flourish and Blott’s? Been round for a hundred years?”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “Only been dragged there a few thousand times by James.”
“They scheduled me. Since it was historic and all that, my PA said I couldn’t pass it up. Right wanker, he is, but he was right. Sold out of my newest.”
Sirius snorted, but beckoned Remus in all the way. “Well good. You can take me somewhere fancy.”
Remus laughed as he closed the door, and unmindful of the wide, open windows, came over to press a kiss to the left corner of Sirius’ mouth. “Somewhere fancy, hmm? I think it can be arranged. Isn’t your birthday coming up?”
Sirius groaned. “James told you, didn’t he? That fucking traitor.”
Remus shrugged. “I might have asked—then later bribed him.”
Sirius peered round Remus’ shoulder and saw his brother watching him with a smirk. Deciding he didn’t give two shits what Reg thought, he hooked a finger through one of Remus’ torn button holes and pulled him in for a proper kiss. They might not have anything official between them, but considering the last time Sirius had seen Remus, it had been very unprofessional, he figured it was okay.
And by the low hum Remus gave at the searing kiss, Sirius reckoned Remus was on board.
“You know it’s unfair,” Sirius murmured against Remus’ lips, dropping down off the tips of his toes. “You’re Jamie’s favourite author meaning everything you can do for him trumps anything I can.”
“Oh I don’t know. He’s very loyal.” Remus reached a hand up and drew his fingertips along Sirius’ sharp cheekbones. He gave a shaking breath, then grinned. “But I was able to bribe the birthday out of him with a promise of advanced copies of my next book.”
“Fucking sell out,” Sirius muttered.
Remus laughed again, then took a step away. “Will it help if I told you I’ve brought you something? Something chocolate?”
Sirius’ eyebrows went up. “Er. It might?”
Remus chuckled as he reached over and picked up a small, square box from the desk Sirius hadn’t noticed before. “I made this special for you. Your birthday isn’t for another six days but I thought we could get started early.”
Sirius had never been in a relationship long enough to actually celebrate a birthday, so it was all very new. But as he took the box in his hands, he remembered something rather horrible. “Fuck me. I’m not going to be in London for my birthday.”
“No,” Remus mused, his tone surprising Sirius, “you’re not.”
“How er…well…” Sirius thumbed the top of the box. “I’ve got a flight to the States leaving on Thursday and I’ll be there for a few days.”
“I know.” Remus laughed at Sirius’ continued bemused expression. “I might have phoned ahead and got your brother to give me your schedule. He er…was more than helpful for even less than James asked.”
Sirius’ eyes narrowed. “What the hell did he ask for?”
“The promise of three future embarrassing stories—and photos if I can capture them. He seems to think you get pissed and ridiculous when you go on business trips. Or holidays.”
Sirius huffed, then turned his attention back to Remus’ earlier declaration. “So…so you know I won’t be here?”
“It’s part of your gift.” Remus reached into his pocket and pulled out a printed sheet of paper. Glancing at it, Sirius’ eyebrows went up. “Is it too forward that I’ve invited myself along? And booked us a second trip? And cleared an extra four days with your brother?”
Sirius was staring at the paper like it had come to life and started speaking to him. “Er.”
For the first time since he’d got there, Remus actually looked a bit concerned. “I may have crossed a line.”
Sirius head snapped up. “No I just…” He took a breath, leaning back against his drawing table. “I mean…” He set the box aside and stared at the other man. “Can I ask what might seem like a very ridiculous question?”
Remus nodded, but the frown was still apparent on his face, a wrinkle between his bushy brows. “Of course.”
“What are we?”
There was a tense, lingering pause. “Is that an existential question?”
Sirius let out a small scoff, setting the box on his desk. “You know it’s not. I mean…what are we? Are we fucking? Are we friends? Are we…I dunno. I don’t know how to make this sound like a grown man is asking this question!” He let out a flustered sigh and pulled the tie from his bun, letting his fingers run through his hair as it fell down around his shoulders.
Remus watched him for a moment, and Sirius stared back, looking for any mockery in those amber eyes. But there was none. Remus took a step forward, then hesitated, then took another. “I’d like to think we’re more than just fucking.” He took the final step which closed the space separating them. Reaching out, he used the short nail on his index finger to flick Sirius’ top button. “I like to think we’re friends as well. But I…thought perhaps more.”
Sirius felt his breath hitch in his chest just a little, and he coughed to regain his composure. “I’m not normally like this. But fuck, Lupin, you sort of just came into my life like a fucking tidal wave and I haven’t been able to process it. Normally it’s chatting and fucking and then they bugger off. But you keep coming back and I don’t know where I stand. I don’t even know how I feel.”
That gave Remus pause, and he stepped back. “You don’t know how you feel,” he repeated.
“Not…not like that,” Sirius said, wanting to grab him, though his hands remained at his sides. “I know how I feel. I fucking fancy the hell out of you. But I don’t know where we stand with each other and it’s making me feel a bit deranged.”
Remus couldn’t help his small smile, and a bare shake of his head. “Will it help you if I told you that I’m only seeing you?”
“Yes,” Sirius said, very slowly, his tone almost like a question.
“And that I don’t want to see anyone else?”
Sirius gulped. “Alright.”
“And that I keep coming back here because I fucking fancy the hell out of you as well and I would prefer to spend any time I have in London with you.”
Sirius licked his lips. “That’s…fair. I suppose.”
Remus worried his bottom lip for a second, then got a very determined look on his face. “I want to date you. Exclusively. I want to have a monopoly on your free time. I want to snog you, in public, whenever we feel like it. And I want to take you on holiday for your birthday because although it seems a bit silly to use the word boyfriend in our late twenties, I think it’s something boyfriends ought to do. And I really want to be yours.”
Sirius couldn’t help his grin, as sappy and ridiculous as it felt. “Yeah?”
Remus closed the distance between them again. “Yeah.”
Glancing up at the wondering amber eyes, Sirius felt something warm fluttering in his chest, and he couldn’t stop himself from putting his palm to Remus’ cheek. “Gonna kiss you now.”
“Was hoping you might,” Remus murmured, before pulling on Sirius’ shoulders so they better matched their height. Lips collided gently at first, then growing more heated until Sirius realised if they went any further, it would be very inappropriate for those wide, open windows.
He pulled back with a small gasp, putting his hand to the centre of Remus’ chest. “So that’s settled, I suppose.”
Remus chuckled. “It seems so. Now, I’d like you to open your gift because it does have an expiry date.”
Now more than curious, Sirius snatched up the box and pried the lid off. To his very great surprise, in the centre sat a single cupcake with a deep, almost-black chocolate dollop of frosting. “It’s…a cupcake?”
“Special recipe. I learnt it about six months ago when I was travelling in Mexico. It’s spicy.”
Intrigued, Sirius pulled the cupcake from the box and swiped the edge of his finger in the frosting. Putting it in his mouth, his eyes went wide. It wasn’t very sweet at all—almost bitter. Then came an almost cinnamon flavour, followed by a deep burn in the back of his throat as the chili spice hit.
“Bloody hell,” he breathed.
Remus laughed, then swiped his own finger into the chocolate and licked it off. “What do you think?”
Sirius stared at it for a moment, then took a bite of cake with frosting. “It’s weird. It’s…I don’t know if I like it, but for some reason I want to keep eating it.”
Remus’ grin threatened to split his face. “Thought you might. That was the reaction I was going for.”
Sirius set the cupcake down on the desk and pulled Remus in for another sweet and spicy kiss. “Come to mine tonight?”
“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, love.” Remus carded his fingers through Sirius’ somewhat messy locks. “We can talk about the holiday then, yeah? And what we might like to do. As, you know, official boyfriends.”
Sirius grinned and kissed him one last time. “Definitely. Now fuck off out of here please, so I can get some actual work done. Otherwise my trip abroad will be fraught with disappointment, and a disappointed Sirius is never any fun to play with.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” Remus murmured as he dipped his head low to trail lazy kisses along-side Sirius’ neck. “Happy brainstorming, love. I’ll see you soon.”
***
As it turned out, Remus rang up Regulus to check on Sirius schedule, because he was plotting out the last leg of his book tour which was abroad. He’d heard Sirius talk of the possible meeting in San Francisco the last time he’d been there, and thought he could co-ordinate. So whilst Sirius was busy with his American clients, Remus did the very last of his publicity tour.
After which, they would be staying in a bay-front Hotel for four days where they could so any ridiculous holidaymaker-type thing the city had to offer. Boat rides to Alcatraz, checking out the fish markets and piers, walking near the Golden Gate Bridge.
Sirius seemed overly excited by the prospects, and he was all-but bouncing off the walls during his last tea with James and Lily before he was set to leave.
“…and there’s this whale-watching thing which I thought would be brilliant, but I’m not even sure he’d be interested,” Sirius said, leaning across the table and flicking a pea at his two year old godson who laughed and threw one back.
“Please stop teaching him that,” Lily admonished. “Yesterday we had lunch with my sister and Harry threw an entire soggy carrot into her hair.”
Sirius met James’ eyes just once and threw his head back, laughing. “Good. Your sister’s a bloody horse-faced bigot who was hacked off because James was Indian. How you still take meals with her is beyond me.”
Lily had the decency to blush. “She’s come round a bit. Lately. After mum and dad…you know…”
Sirius went quiet. “Right. Sorry Lils, I just…”
“No it’s fine. You’re not wrong.” Lily sighed. “Fucking family.”
James eyed Harry who was like a verbal sponge lately, but he seemed more concerned with feeding the rest of his fried tofu to their puppy who was sitting under Harry’s chair with an expectant tongue lolling out. “Snuffles, out!”
Harry pulled a face as the dog obediently trotted out of the room.
“Well it’s nice to see you this excited over someone,” James finally said as he picked up a flannel from the kitchen counter and began to mop Harry’s face off. He pulled the boy out of his chair. “Go on, go play with your lego.”
Harry grinned toothily at his godfather before racing into the lounge where their giant lego castle was half-built.
“I really like him. And at least I don’t have to sell this one to you,” Sirius said, eyeing Remus’ new book which was still sat on James’ counter.
James grinned, unabashed. “I very nearly had to sell you on him.”
“Nah,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair. “I was already besotted.” He worried his bottom lip for a second. “Do you think it’s ridiculous though? Me asking him about the whole…boyfriend thing?” He blushed just a bit.
James snorted. “No. It’s actually a perfectly grown-up word, Sirius. And you’re allowed to define your relationship however you see fit.”
Lily was smiling at him. “Feels all grown up, actually. Seeing you all…settled.”
“Oy! I still have an image to maintain.”
“Please. You’re a graphic designer, Sirius. That whole punk band bullshit is long gone. No one’s going to believe you.” Lily got up and flicked the kettle on. “Honestly it’s just nice to see you happy.” She pulled a small cake off the counter and plonked it in the centre of the table. “This is to say Happy Birthday since you won’t be here this year.”
James reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box with a bow on it. “And this, early as well.”
Sirius felt his body go flush with happiness as Lily cut him a slice of the cake, and he opened up a platinum watch. The face held his constellation, along with a small window along the side which showed the phases of the moon as they passed through the night sky. On the back was a small engraving, For my brother, with love always. Prongs-
Sirius did not cry, because he was still a little punk rock and it was not punk rock to cry. But it was, he decided, a bit punk to get a little bit soggy, and it was definitely punk rock to hug and kiss both James and Lily.
“Enjoy your trip. Spoil yourself. Enjoy your boyfriend,” Lily ordered as Sirius was leaving.
Sirius grinned at her. “Plan to. I really do.”
“And if you come back engaged,” Lily called as Sirius swung his leg over his motorbike, “you’re hiring me to plan the wedding!”
***
San Francisco, Sirius decided, would make a fantastic replacement for London. It was dreary and foggy, with a fantastic sort of smell to it. Crisp and sharp like the sea, and yet heavy and all-encompassing. The streets were something to behold, narrow and the hills were incredible.
There was still a streetcar running on some of them, and a lot of the places like the pier, were full of street performers and little shops. In between meetings, Sirius spent time with Remus, having lunch at small soup carts where they got Clam Chowder in bread bowls, and finish off with cinnamon doughnuts for pudding.
They put money into the cups of human statues, and took a bay tour which lasted thirty minutes and were served wine.
Sirius managed to catch Remus’ very last reading at a large bookstore near their hotel. He’d just come off his last meeting, the clients very happy with the design, and the contracts all sorted. Regulus gave him a very thrilled call after the contracts were emailed, shouting something about a very nice bonus before Sirius rang off so he could see Remus.
The crowd was massive, and Sirius dug round for his badge which would let him behind security lines. One of the guards scanned it, then let Sirius in the back entrance where there was a massive table set up with tea and coffee. He helped himself to a tea, then wandered toward the small stage they’d set up in the middle of the shop.
The queue was nearly out the door for people already clamouring for an autograph, and Sirius always found it interesting how many people loved Remus. His boyfriend he thought with a zing of thrill running up his spine. His. As much as he was Remus’.
He peered round a large stack of books and saw Remus sat on a chair reading from a passage into a low mic. The sound quality was shit, but Remus’ gentle tenor rose above the chattering crowd.
“…thought it wouldn’t be possible. How, I wondered. How could something that gorgeous exist outside of the ugly side of reality? Of course it wasn’t up to me, and I knew that. Knew it in my bones. It was difficult to let go and be grateful, but what else was there to do?”
He shut the book and grinned when an applause erupted. People shouted for more, but Remus rose and started toward the group of people who’d organised the event. He glanced round, and gave a surprised start when he saw Sirius hovering nearby. He was rewarded with a grin, a grin Sirius knew was his and his alone.
‘Hi,’ Sirius mouthed.
Remus beckoned him over, and though Sirius was mindful of the crowd watching them, he crossed the empty space and was drawn into a short embrace, a kiss pressed to his temple.
“Done early?” Remus asked as the organisers were scrambling to set up the table.
“Aye. Got the contracts signed. Reg was excited. Offered me his first born or something.”
Remus snorted. “Of course he did. It means you’re free though, right? All finished. No more meetings?”
Sirius smiled. “No more meetings. Just in time, too.”
Remus reached out, unable to stop himself from cupping Sirius’ cheek and pulling him in for a kiss. Sirius was profoundly aware of fans standing nearby, and noticed them with their mobiles out, no doubt taking photos.
“I think we’re being watched,” Sirius muttered. “Videos, photos…it’s about to blow up online.”
“Do you know how much of a fuck I do not give?” Remus said as he kissed Sirius again.
“Isn’t part of the appeal that fans can fancy you and think they have a chance? Isn’t that how the whole…celebrity thing works?”
Remus laughed, tucking a lock of Sirius’ hair behind his ear. “Maybe, but I’m not a boy band, Sirius. I’m an author. Who writes romances. It lends credibility to my work, seeing as most of my books have a happy ending. Shows I know what I’m talking about.”
Sirius snorted. “If only they knew.”
“I like to let them use their imaginations.” Remus trailed his hand down Sirius’ arm and twinned their fingers together. “Sit with me? You don’t have to be up front, but I’d like you nearby. It’s your birthday after all and I think I’ve sacrificed enough time with you.”
Sirius couldn’t say no, even if he wanted to—which he did not. He rather enjoyed being paraded about like a proper boyfriend and was just a little flushed in the face as Remus took his spot behind the table, and Sirius sat a few paces away.
The queue seemed even longer now, and it was only slightly discouraging. “You’ve got to sign all these people? You’re arm’s going to be…exhausted.”
Remus laughed under his breath. “Worried, love?”
“Well…”
“Don’t worry, I’m well practised and I would never let you go neglected on your birthday.”
“Well it’s my first with you and…”
Remus turned, giving him eyes that had gone quite dark. “Trust me, love.”
Sirius gulped, then shifted in his seat and sipped his tea. “Alright. Go on then. Be impressive.”
Remus laughed again, then nodded so the queue could begin to move.
***
In the end it only took an hour and twenty. A few people were turned away disappointed, but as Remus and Sirius made their way out to the taxi waiting for them, Remus paused to sign for people hovering about.
“Can we just say,” a young girl in what looked like her late teens said as Remus scribbled a note to her on the inside cover, “you two are ridiculously cute.”
Sirius flushed, but Remus merely gave a gentle smile. “Well thank you.”
“I mean it. It’s like…I ship it so hard. And I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone before today.”
“Yes,” her friend chimed in. “OTP.”
Sirius blinked in confusion as they ambled off, and Remus led the way to the taxi which was set to take them back to the hotel. “What the fuck did any of that mean?” Sirius wondered. “American slang?”
Remus chuckled again. “I think it’s more of an internet thing. I try not to go on there often. I assume it was some compliment.”
“Right. Ships. And er…” Sirius shook his head. “Remind me to text Reg later. I bet he knows. Called himself a Trash Lord the other day, whatever the fuck that was.”
Remus snorted. “I wouldn’t look too deeply into it, love. Down the rabbit hole lies madness.”
“Shut up. Stop being poetic and kiss me,” Sirius demanded, and Remus complied until the taxi driver cleared his throat to indicate they’d arrived.
Completely unembarrassed, Remus paid the driver, and the pair got out. Bypassing the hotel bar, and the restaurant, Remus took Sirius to the lifts and straight to the room. “I’ve ordered in,” he explained as he flicked on the lights and shrugged his coat off. “Should be here in an hour. And…” He nodded to the bedside table where there was wine chilling in a tub. The ice was nearly melted, and the bottle was frosty.
“You trying to get me pissed?” Sirius asked as Remus began to uncork the bottle. “Think I’ll get up to dirty things, do you?”
Remus grinned, his eyes going quite dark again. “No, I think I’d like you very clear headed.” He grabbed the two glasses and filled them halfway. “I’d like you to remember everything tonight.”
Sirius let out an involuntary breath as he sipped the wine. Then, with careful hands, pulled Remus in for a kiss. Their tongues tangled together, hot and needy. Remus made a low, keening sound against Sirius’ mouth, and before long the wine was abandoned to the bedside table, and warm fingers were crawling up the back of Sirius’ shirt.
“Happy birthday,” Remus said, punctuating the sentence with open-mouthed kisses along Sirius’ throat.
Sirius sucked in his breath as Remus shoved him back toward the bed, and he stumbled, falling back against the pillows. He nearly protested until Remus’ fingers went for his zip, then in a flash had him naked from the waist down.
Sirius was about to mention how Remus was wearing too many clothes, but there was a mouth on him which made speaking near impossible. A tongue poked out, drawing hot lines along the inside of his thigh, creeping up toward his bollocks and aching prick.
Sirius lifted his head just slightly to watch as Remus’ mouth parted, taking the head of Sirius’ cock in. His tongue pressed hard against it, and he sucked, hollowing out his cheeks. Sirius threw his head back, eyes rolling up, and a long, low moan escaped from his throat.
“Fuck,” he groaned when he regained the ability to form words. “Fuck yes.”
Remus hummed in agreement as he slowly, inch by inch, took Sirius into his mouth. His tongue was magic, his lips pulling and pushing at just the right speed, with just the right pressure. And before long he was so close his entire body was humming.
“I’m…fuck I’m gonna…Re…”
Remus hummed his assent and Sirius let go, coming hard into the hot mouth. Swallowing down every drop, Remus pulled away, drawing his hands up and down Sirius’ thighs as his lover started to regain his bearings.
“Good start, hmm?”
Sirius looked up at him, eyes glazed and mouth feeling thick with lust and satisfaction. “Start?”
“Well, I’d hoped we’d get to a bit more than me sucking you off. After dinner.” Remus winked at him as he crawled up Sirius’ body and kissed him slow and tender.
Sirius reached up, carding his fingers into Remus’ tight curls, and stared him in the eye. “You’re rather fantastic, you know that?”
Remus smiled. “So glad you think so. It’s nice to have the sentiment returned.”
Sirius flushed a bit. “I…well…I’m very happy.”
Remus palmed his cheek. “Good. Because I…” He stopped and took a breath. “I’ve debated about this for some time, as it seems a bit rash and sudden. But the truth of it is, I think if you feel something, you should just say it. And if it’s right—if it’s supposed to be—well it’ll be right. So there’s no point in stalling.”
“I know you’re used to being wordy but I’m not exactly following,” Sirius said, though the truth of it was, he had some idea what was coming and his heart started to hammer hard against his ribs. Because he was feeling it. Oh he was feeling it, but it seemed so soon.
Remus smiled, then kissed Sirius again. “I love you,” he said after a second. “I do. It’s your birthday and I love you and I’ve never been with someone that felt so bloody right. So there it is.”
Sirius swallowed, his tongue refusing to budge.
“I don’t expect you to feel it. Or say it back. Or anything really, because I know that I…”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence because Sirius was kissing him again, holding him tight by the front of his shirt. “Shut up,” he breathed, and Remus did. “I love you too, you fucking git. I think I have since your barmy arse stole James’ seat at that stupid hipster café and told me all about thunder crashes and the world’s sharp edges. So yeah.”
Remus’ eyes were suspiciously wet-looking, glinting in the yellow desk lamp. “Well there it is. We love each other.”
Sirius’ grin felt like it might split his face. “So we do.”
Pinning him down, Remus peppered Sirius’ face with kisses, then nuzzled Sirius’ cheek with his big nose. “Happy birthday, love.”
Sirius grinned. “You said that already.”
Kissing his neck, Remus pulled away and cupped his cheek. “And I shall continue. Your birthday isn’t over for another six hours. And we’ve got a lot of birthday activities to get through.” |
Emma grumbled softly when she heard a light knock on her bedroom door. "Get lost Snow, I'm sleeping," she said while rolling over, taking the blanket with her. "Miss Swan?" Emma frowned, that definitely wasn't Snow. "Regina? What are you doing here?" Emma heard a light chuckle before a door was opened. "Are you awake, Emma?" A smile appeared on Emma's face when reality set back in. She was in Regina's guest room. God, what happened last night? Her head was pounding. They definitely had drank way too much, after the whole pizza ordeal. Oh god. She could never eat pizza again without thinking of Regina licking her fingers.
"There's someone I'd like you to meet." This got Emma's attention and her eyes snapped open. She sat up straight in bed, a wide grin spread on her face as she watched Regina move in closer, an adorable toddler attached to her hip. Regina sat down on the edge of the bed. "Miss Swan, this is Henry." The brown-haired boy looked at Emma with wide opened hazel eyes. Emma reached out to him and tickled his tummy, "Hey there little man!" Regina grinned when Henry buried his face into his mother's neck, she winked at Emma and softly whispered into Henry's ear, "Are you gonna say hi to Emma?" The little guy shook his head. "He's a little shy, aren't you sweetheart?" She pressed a kiss on his forehead.
Emma watched them fondly. "He's adorable, Regina."
"Would you like to join us for breakfast, Miss Swan?"
Emma nodded, "I would love to. Let me get dressed real quick first though."
Regina's cheeks flushed, she hadn't noticed Emma's bare shoulders before. "Of course. The bathroom is right through there," Regina pointed towards it and got off the bed and swooped Henry high up in the air, "Let's go, big boy. Can you say bye to Emma?" His eyes darted all over the place before the softest "Bye-bye" came from his lips. Emma smiled enthusiastically, "Bye kid!"
Emma got out of bed as she made her way to the bathroom.
Good grief, Regina. How is this even a bathroom?
Emma ran a finger over the toiletries that were neatly stacked, a plush towel draped over the sink. Emma wondered when Regina had put all that in the bathroom, before coming to the conclusion that this was probably what the bathroom looked like at all times. Always prepared to house a guest. White tiles covered the walls which was a nice contrast with the dark tiles on the floor. The shower itself was just insane. Emma had never seen anything like it. She figured it couldn't do any harm to take a quick shower and when the hot water poured down on her she wondered how she ended up in heaven.
Emma quickly made her way downstairs almost tripping over a ball when she walked into the kitchen. "Ball!" Henry sat on the kitchen floor, his little legs spread out widely as he slammed his tiny fists on the floor. "You want the ball, little man?" Emma sank to her knees and picked up the ball. "Ball!" Henry said again. She rolled it towards him and smiled when he squeaked.
"Kat. Ball." Emma looked up in surprise when an unfamiliar voice answered him, her voice full of wonder, "Oh, did the strange lady give you your ball? Mommy didn't tell us that she was having a sleep-over, did she? She just said she had 'very important business' to attend to, didn't she?" Henry laughed softly at the way Kathryn frowned and exaggerated her speech. She looked back at Regina and inched closer towards Henry and made a show of whispering loudly, "Mommy has some explaining to do, huh?"
Emma was immensely amused. She didn't know who this woman was, but when she noticed the flush that crept up Regina's neck, she didn't doubt that they were close friends.
"Miss Swan," Regina glared at Kathryn, "this is my babysitter." Kathryn laughed at that. "Oh, I've been demoted to babysitter now, huh? You really must have been holding out on me." She waved at Emma. "I'm Kathryn, esteemed babysitter and Regina's best friend." Regina scoffed.
"I'm Emma," she paused.
Regina's friend?
She had no idea. She was still coming to terms with the fact that she felt so comfortable around Regina. It's not like they had known each other for years. It had literally been two days.
The best two days of my life.
A mischievous grin spread on her face as she continued, "Regina's very important business."
Kathryn bumped shoulders with Regina. "I like her." She looked at Emma. "She even has the decency to blush! She's a keeper, Regina."
Regina pushed off from the counter, "That's quite enough, Miss Nolan."
A tiny hand grabbed Kathryn pants, "Up." Kathryn reached down, picked up Henry and scrunched her face. "You smell. Excuse me ladies, I think this one needs a diaper change." She took big steps out of the kitchen, bouncing Henry on her hip. Henry shrieked with laughter as Kathryn mocked Regina's previous statement with a funny voice.
Silence steadily filled up the kitchen. Emma shyly looked up at Regina. "Hi."
The brunette smiled, "Hey." The word sounded strange in Emma's ears, a world of difference with Regina's usual politeness. "Kathryn usually watches Henry for me on group days. She's-" Regina's voice faltered, "She's been helping me out a lot ever since the accident. Henry trusts her, as do I. I wouldn't know what to do without her. He has his own room at her house, he sleeps over quite often." Regina inhaled sharply, "I have bad days. I don't want those days to affect Henry in any way. He takes after Alexa more and more and on a bad day looking at him is just a painful reminder of what I've lost. I'm sure that makes me a horrible mother. But I promise you that I love Henry with all my heart. I wouldn't have survived if it wasn't for him."
Emma closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around Regina, hugging her tightly. "You are not a horrible mother Regina. You've been through hell and back and you're still standing. Anyone can see the amount of love you have for him. That little boy loves you. You're allowed to have bad days. You're allowed to feel sad, heartbroken and angry and no one has the right to judge you. I'm certainly not judging you. I think you're very brave, Regina."
Regina pulled away from the hug and smiled at Emma thankfully. "Stay today? If you want I mean. I can drive you back home after our group session."
A breath caught in Emma's throat. "Yes please."
Don't seem too desperate Emma. A simple 'I'd love to' would have sufficed.
"Good. Sit down, Miss Swan. I'll get breakfast started."
Kathryn watched their interaction with interest from the door post. Emma seemed to bring out the best in Regina. A playfulness, eyes that sparkled whenever she looked at Emma.
"Gina? You have group tonight, right?" Regina nodded. "I was thinking about taking Henry to the zoo this afternoon. Give you some alone time? I'll feed 'm loads of sugary stuff and deal with the consequences later myself." She winked.
Regina walked over to Henry, "Come here, big boy." She kissed the top of his head and placed him in his high seat. "Do you want to go to the zoo with Kat today?" Henry nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah? What kind of animals do they have at the zoo?" Henry's eyebrows frowned slightly, clearly deep in thought, "Bear." Regina smiled. "That's right. What sound does a bear make?"
Emma smiled at them while Regina and Kathryn encouraged Henry to name as many animals as he could, helping him out every so often when he got stuck on what sound each particular animal made. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and sent a text off to her sister.
Snow. How's the little nugget in your tum? Is it moving yet? x
Are you kidding? The 'little nugget' is only 2 inches tall.
Ah, lil' one takes after his mom then? :-)
Mhm. If he's lucky.
He?
He, she, it. It's awkward. David keeps calling the baby she. I keep calling it he. I promise when we find out the gender of the baby, you'll be the first to know. No more secrets.
I love you.
We love you too.
I locked myself out of the house yesterday. Can you bring me my spare tonight? Group starts at 8 p.m. Maybe meet me at like 7.50 or something?
Yesterday? Where did you sleep last night?
Long story.
OMG.
Nothing like that. Seriously. I'm a proper adult, remember.
Only when it suits you. I'll meet you at the top of the stairs, princess.
Don't be late.
You're insufferable. Thank you.
"So Emma, where and how did you meet Regina? Please use as many details as possible," she glanced in Regina's direction, "that one over there never tells me anything."
Emma laughed. "Well, it's quite a scandalous story, really." She shot Regina a coy look. "Two weeks ago she read-ended me at a traffic light, totaled my car. She gave me an ear full, no idea why really. She offered me a pity ride home, but drove to her house instead, she's been holding me hostage every since." Emma sighed dramatically. "The whole ordeal is quite traumatizing really."
She had never heard Regina laugh louder and the melodious sound was music to her ears. "You are so full of it, Miss Swan."
Katherine looked from Emma to Regina amused by their interaction. She leaned closer to Henry and whispered softly, "I think we're being mocked, Henry. The audacity!"
Regina rolled her eyes. "I think what Miss Swan meant to say was that she locked herself out of her house yesterday and I was kind enough to offer her a place to sleep. In the guest room I might add."
"That vital piece of information wasn't something you knew until AFTER you invited me to your house," Emma said, giving Kathryn a wink.
"Oh my. You hear that Henry? I think mommy's been naughty!" She tickled the little boy and winced slightly when a high-pitched shriek came from his mouth.
"An invitation you accepted after knowing me for all but a day."
"Well, I know a good offer when I hear it," Emma said, her voice alluring.
She took a sip of her coffee, choking on it when Regina said, "Too bad you don't have the same instincts when it comes to a warning." She stretched her hand out and cupped Emma's face, her thumb tracing over her lower lip, effectively swiping away a drop of coffee. "Sorry," Regina said as she chuckled softly, "I don't have any napkins."
Emma was mortified as she felt her face turn beet red.
Kathryn was utterly confused. "Did you really rear-end her?"
Regina laughed. "Of course not. My driving skills are top notch. Emma and I attend the same group. I told you that yesterday's group session was rescheduled to today, but she apparently missed that message. I happened to run into her and we went for a coffee."
Kathryn's heart ached when she briefly saw the hurt in Regina's eyes before she continued, "I invited her over because I didn't want to tell her about Alexa and Daniel at the cafe."
"I still think the kidnapping story is much more plausible," Emma said in an attempt to lighten the mood.
"If you're that eager to get kidnapped, Miss Swan, I'm sure I can arrange something."
Damn you.
"You have connections to the mafia or something?"
"Not quite."
Not quite? What does that mean?
A grin spread on Emma's face, "Another evasive answer! Why am I not surprised?"
Regina got up from the table and positioned herself close to Emma. She leaned forward, her hand stroking down a lock of Emma's hair before tugging it behind her ear, exposing Emma's neck. Emma gulped when she felt hot breath tickle against her ear as Regina softly whispered, "If you are so desperate for answers, we could always play another round of twenty questions, dear."
Kathryn cleared her throat, bringing both women back to reality. "You two are disgusting!"
Regina laughed, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Sure you don't. I'm gonna take the little man home again and have him take a nap before taking him to the zoo. Will you be picking him up tomorrow or do you want me to bring him over?"
"I'll come and get him," Regina said before moving over to Henry, picking him up. "Are you going to be a good boy for Kat?" Henry nodded, before nuzzling his face into Regina's neck. "Mommy loves you, give me a kiss."
Emma grimaced at the wet sloppy kiss that Henry gave his mother.
"Thank you, baby boy." She glanced over at Kathryn. "Please don't lose my son in a bear sanctuary or something."
Kathryn rolled her eyes before taking Henry from her. "As if. Say bye to mommy and Emma, Henry."
Emma gave him a little wave, "Bye kid, have fun at the zoo!" She stayed behind as Regina saw Kathryn and Henry out. A nervousness settled in her stomach. She was well aware that Regina and her had been shamelessly flirting back and forth. Not that she was complaining, she hadn't felt this content in a long time. There was a familiarity that reminded her of her friendship with Sophie and yet it was completely different. After Sophie's death Emma distanced herself from most of her friends, overcome with guilt, and they had let it happen. And now here she was, feeling completely at home with a woman who was just as broken as she was. She wondered if that was the reason they resorted to flirting this much, it was easier than giving in to the hurt right? Still, when Regina had told her story there was no holding back whatsoever. Emma flawlessly could read every emotion on her Regina's face, she had seen them all in the mirror before.
She got up from the table and moved into the living room. When she sat here last night she had no idea that Regina was a mother. There were no toys on the ground, no pictures on the walls, nothing that indicated that a child even lived here. The room was homely and warm though, but it missed that personal touch. Maybe pictures were a painful reminder for Regina. God knows she hardly could look at pictures of her and Sophie without breaking down.
I miss you.
Regina walked back into the house and saw Emma move around the living room slowly, seemingly deep in thought. She smiled to herself and started to tidy up the kitchen. It was strange having Emma in her house. She felt so comfortable around her and while Emma didn't feel like a stranger to her, she practically was. Yet she had already shared her most gruesome memory with the blond. A story that she had only divulged to Ruby after she got Regina incredible drunk. They had never spoken of it again, but their employer - employee relationship had changed that day into friendship. Ruby looked after Regina and protected her - mostly from herself - while stile maintaining her insufferable personality. Regina was thankful for it though. She couldn't deal with the pity looks that people gave her. Kathryn, Ruby and Henry were all that she needed and they had never treated her any different. And now there was Miss Swan.
Emma
. She was playful, wise beyond her years and drop dead gorgeous.
When she first set eyes on Emma, her heart went out to her. She had looked so vulnerable and alone and when she had ran out of the room, Regina had instantly followed her, wanting to make sure she was okay. She never expected that to lead to this. It was as if Emma had grabbed a needle and thread and had made the first stitch to slowly sew Regina's heart back together and it scared her to death. She had never felt anything like this and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. She was incredible attracted to her. Emma hardly was the first woman that she felt attracted to. A couple of months after the accident she had gone to a bar, determined to drink away her sorrows, when she went home with a woman. She didn't even remember her name. She had never allowed the woman to touch her, she didn't want that kind of intimacy. Instead Regina had devoured the woman, who never complained and for a moment in time Regina had forgotten all about her pain and she had liked it.
It was Kathryn who eventually pulled her back to reality by telling her that sleeping around wasn't going to fix her broken heart. Kathryn never judged though. She just wanted Regina to heal, to give Henry his mom back. That's when Regina had sought out the support group and she had been attending it for a couple of months now. She didn't speak, she wasn't ready for that, but she listened and observed. She wasn't surprised to hear that Emma had been going to the same group for a couple of weeks now. It wasn't hard to go unnoticed in the big group. But then she had laid eyes on Emma only to never take them off her. And now here she was, in her house, about to spend the day and she felt completely content with it.
Maybe, just maybe, Emma Swan was exactly what she needed. Plus, it was incredible fun to rile her up. Regina wanted more of it and if last night was any indication, so did Emma. |
In space, as if something made out of a paradox, his priority had always been breathing. Breathing through the panic attacks, breathing inside of Blue to feel their bond deepening, breathing in a foreign planet and swallowing the feeling of his lungs reconstructing themselves.
He had always worried, always thought that it was possible for the altean technology to make an error in the readings, to send the human paladins to their deaths without meaning to. The thoughts nagged at him, and the fear started to come with them— Was there enough oxygen inside of his suit? Were his lungs made to handle that? Was the planet they were stranded on safe for their bodies?
He had fought tooth and nail to keep on breathing in a place where everything was doomed to die, to fall into nothingness, and now that he was finally on Earth… well, how ridiculous was to feel short-breathed when he was drowning on air?
The oxygen was there, but Lance’s heart was stuck in his throat, constricting it, his shaking hands grasping at his own skin. Everything was fuzzy, but something inside of him was whispering to get up, get up and run, run, run...
So he did.
His muscles tightened, years of war ingrained into their every fiber, and when he took off everything in him screamed yes. Bolting from the porch and running down the road was far easier than dodging Galran shots, and so he let his body free, left the logic behind him as he hurried, substituted it with a primal instinct of just go.
The freezing night caressed his reddened skin in a murmur, soothing and quiet. But quiet didn’t have the same meaning for him after the war, and this, compared to the dull nights in the castle, moving relentlessly through space, felt thunderous.
The melodies the wind created when it brushed against the plants, against his own body, the sound of his furious step against the road, the animals calling into the night.
Thunderous.
He thought of screaming, of letting his voice join the sounds in the silence, letting it carry out as far as it would go. He thought, he thought, he thought—
Keith had a photo of him.
Just him.
Keith had had that photo for as long as they had been separated.
He ran faster, striking the road with so much force he felt the impact ran through his toes into his calves. His lungs were burning, but he felt the words pounding inside of his head much more.
What was he supposed to do with that?
What was that supposed to mean?
The wind struck his face, harder, his hair drawing away from his temple as he breathed out harshly, the weight of his phone burning where it was settled inside of his pocket. The darkness of the sky was beginning to fade away, but the claustrophobic feeling inside of his chest persisted. He closed his eyes, willing it away as a broken sound escaped his mouth.
He wanted to do something, anything, that could get these feelings under control, something to make him stop feeling like he was too big for his own skin. Lance didn’t know what he needed, until he stood in front of it, breathless and soaked in sweat.
The building was as old as he remembered it; white paint chipper, eroded stone stairs and a green door weak on the handles. His childhood laid bare behind that door in the form of a swimming pool too crumbled to be safe, cold tiles and watered coughs. His heart launched inside of his chest at the thought of pushing against the water, his body a weapon against a natural force. It had been so long since he had felt powerful just because that he almost tripped over himself on his rush to sneak inside of the building. His fingertips remembered the weakened hold of the door and he listened closely, with his eyes closed, for the tell-tale click that his clever fingers would give him. It had always been so easy to enter the sleeping building, and he almost scoffed when the lock gave underneath his fingers too easily.
Lance slipped in, all long limbs and tired heart shivering with fatigue, and found his way through the darkness; the hallways and walls closing in on him, welcoming. It only took a couple of minutes to feel the weight of another door against his palm, took a second to open it and less than that to become breathless by the familiar sight.
The darkness coating the white tiles, the quietened bleachers and the lightened water of the swimming pool seemed to hold their breath, coaxing him to step closer. The glass windows opposite to the door opened the space to the firmament, not letting Lance forget the alignment of the stars, whispering, you were there, you wanted to be there.
He felt a growl scratch at his throat, felt the heaviness of his limbs and the fire inside his veins resurrecting like a forgotten phoenix. He didn’t want to think, didn’t want to feel, so he shed his clothes, left them crumbled and forgotten on the edge of the pool and threw himself into the water as eagerly as a drowning man sought to breathe again.
And what an eagerness.
The freezing water cooled his skin and settled his opposing thoughts. He sighed underwater, bubbles sprouting from his mouth and nose as the explosion of sensations throttled his body. He opened his eyes and stared up at the real world, the one where nothing was muffled and where everything weighed down a thousand times more, the one he could leave right now, if he desired to do so. It was soothing, to know that he could die by his own choice when years of piloting through galaxies had told him otherwise. He felt safe, with his aching lungs and blurry sight, because, who could find him down there?
No one, Lance decided as he lurched forward, letting his body lead his journey against the water, shutting off his brain and bidding goodbye to reality.
The light of the pool engulfed him.
Lance hadn’t had many epiphanies in his life, but hanging there, on the edge of the pool, hair slicked back and lungs constricting as he tried to breathe in more oxygen than they could handle, he realised how much he loved this.
His lungs were cursing him from Altea all the way back to Earth, but his limbs felt heavenly soothed, the unrested energy that had been boiling inside of his body for months had finally exploded, leaving a sweet aftermath that he couldn’t have dared to imagine. Why hadn’t he done this before? Why had he beaten himself up when everything became too much instead of listening to his body and searching for a way to make it better?
He didn’t know, but now he has this. His mind felt clearer, the foggy layer that made his thoughts discontinued was gone, and without it came the resolution of facing himself and everything he had been fearing.
“Fuck,” he whispered, breathless, forehead against the edge of the pool, watching the light dance through the ripples in the water.
His feelings for Keith ran deeper than any other thing he had ever felt; deeper than the homesickness, than the fear of space. He had made peace with the fact that he was too far gone on Keith, but could Keith be as gone as him? Did he even have a chance?
Keith was impulsive, had always been. He let his body act by pure instinct, logic set aside for something that tug at his gut with far more intensity. So then, if he felt something for Lance, why hadn’t he acted on it? He had had a million opportunities, a million sparring sessions in which he could have pushed Lance against the wall of the training room, heated frustration turning into bruising touches and gasping breaths.
Lance could imagine it perfectly: the way his hands would be bound by Keith’s just above his head, their bodies too close, warmth seeping madly through the cloths. He would lose his breath, with an inside fire reddening his cheeks and his heart trying to escape through his mouth, and Keith would know, would look at him with those stupidly pretty eyes and would know. He would breathe out, harshly, before willingly crumbling over Lance, tightening his hold and hiding his face on his neck, leaving kisses along the tendon, making Lance shiver sweetly as he traveled up, up, lips dragging feverishly against skin.
Lance would gasp against the tortuously tender touch and Keith would almost swallow it, dropping an open-mouthed kiss against the corner of his mouth. Keith would be tougher and edgier, but softer in so many ways, and Lance would melt against him, go as pliant as he had ever gone in his life just to let Keith hold him up just with his kisses.
Fuck, Lance thought when his heart began to hurt, closing his eyes and slipping underwater.
His heart beat louder there, and he shyly covered his chest with his arms, wondering how a simple image conjured by his mind could make his hair stand on end and his toes curl. His heart started beating for an entirely different reason when a scream from the surface filtered through the water and Lance, scared and brave Lance, rose from the water urgently, only to see the doors of the pool opening to reveal a group of kids entering and screaming excitedly. He blinked, disoriented, watching the sun that came from the windows reflect on the kid’s faces, when it dawned on him. It was morning, the stars were gone and he was in his boxers in the middle of a swimming pool meant to be closed until just then.
He groaned, slipping out of the pool with a swift movement, feeling how the ache started to settle in his muscles. The kids were still screaming, throwing their bags on the bleachers, completely oblivious to Lance’s presence. Getting advantage of this, he got his bundled up clothes in a rush, pressing them against his chest and frowning when he thought about getting in them when he was still wet, boxers painfully tight against his skin.
Lance was wondering if he could sneak inside the janitor’s room and get some towels when the door to the swimming pool opened once more, this time to reveal a man in a large brown coat. Lance faltered, steps slowing down as he took him in. His presence was imposing, hair flowing behind him in the form of dreadlocks and steps resounding through the space loudly. His beard was the colour of wet wood, curling at the edges of his face like it was a dying animal. He had a tired face, mouth turned downward, shadows under his eyes: the kind of people who was impossible to pinpoint their age.
Even so, his eyes shone, the way onyxes did, so beautifully bright that it made Lance look him over one more time. It didn’t match, the way the man carried himself with the way he regarded the world.
Their shoulders touched when they passed each other, Lance curling on himself, feeling exposed, and the man curling forward, almost as if he was too tired to fight gravity.
“Kiddo.”
The voice was deep, deeper than anything Lance had ever heard, and, when he turned around, surprise tightening his muscles, the man was watching him over his shoulders, walking over the edge of the pool as if he wasn’t afraid of falling into the water.
Lance nodded at him, gazes connecting for a few seconds before they broke it at the same time.
He walked away, chills running down his spine as he tried to put on his clothes on the go, the man’s voice ordering the children around following him until the old door of the building had closed behind him.
There was something unnerving about the silence of a day being born, something about the lack of cars on the road. Or maybe it was just him, clutching the phone in his hand too tightly as he made his way back home, the unnerving one. In the end, it didn’t matter, life’s grammatic, unnerving or unnerved, he had come to a decision and his fingers were already moving through the phone’s screen.
The recording app stared at him, accusingly, and Lance could hear the implied you are a coward as his fingers tried pressing play. But what else could he do? Calling Keith would only be disastrous, he knew, and texting him would never even cover what he had to express. So this is was the easiest way; record himself and then send it to Keith. A pathetic attempt at something that should be said in person, but he had to make do. He breathed in, closing his eyes for a moment before pressing play.
“Hey, Keith,” he cringed at how stupid it sounded, but continued. “I felt you—heard you freak out from here a few hours ago. That’s why I’m recording this instead of calling you. I know you appreciate your space, but I wanted to tell you this. Keeping…” he swallowed, the words too heavy on his tongue to let them out. “Keeping a photo of me isn’t… well, I suppose you think it’s embarrassing, since you hang up on me, which rude, my man, very rude.”
He tried to sound lively, take the serious tone and transform it into something lighter, but he was choked up and, he found out, that breathing it and out before growing serious again was the only way he could do this.
“It’s not. Embarrassing. If I could—If I could have had a photo of you, I would have, too. God Keith, do you have any idea…?” Lance stopped, swallowed and closed his eyes, begging his heart to stop pumping out words into his blood that would probably make everything more complicated. “I have never. I—,” He groaned, the palm of his hand digging into his eye as he desperately tried to find the words. “This is coming out in all the wrong ways. I want to tell you so many things, Keith. Sometimes it feels like I— like I will drown if I don’t tell you. But this isn’t the way. I don’t want to tell you this when you are freaking out and we are apart. I… I want to tell you when we finally see each other. I want to see you. I want to see you so you can look me in the face and believe me when I tell you how incredibly happy it makes me that you kept a photo of me with you. I want you to believe me when I tell you that if I could be with you, I would. Without a second thought.”
He gasped then, harshly, trying to regain his breath after such a speech. He chuckled then, eyes opening and watching the sun rise, feeling breathless and lighter.
“See what you do to me? I haven’t talked so fast since forever, and I do talk a lot. I don’t want you to freak out, okay? Not about things that have to do with me. You can talk to me about anything. Anything. I mean it. Anddd, well, I hope that I have made my point and that this wasn’t as embarrassing as I think it was. Good morning, Keith,” he whispered before stopping the recording. His hand was trembling. In fact, everything was; his body, his bones, his soul. His house laid a few meters away from him, silent and immutable, exactly the same as he had left it.
I wish I could tell you, he thought, entering his house and walking to his room, feet moving on his own as his mind traveled far away, somewhere where he could rest. His body brought him to his bed, where he collapsed, the danger of choking on his own nervousness fading away.
Consciousness greeted him harshly, with a scream from his mother and the cries of his younger siblings, surely being caught doing something naughty. Consciousness greeted him even more harshly when the notification of a message ripped his sense of calmness out of him.
It was from Keith, a recording that he played with the phone against his ear and his heart stuck in his throat.
“You know me far too well, I think,” said Keith’s voice against his ear, soft tone and breathless laughter making Lance curl his toes. “I’m sorry I freaked out. Sorry I made you worry. I have something I want to tell you—show you, too. When we finally see each other again. Soon, Lance-- I promise. I… I also wanted to thank you. For not pressuring me. For being much more than I could ever ask for,” he breathed in, the sounds of plates clattering in the background. “The rest, I will tell you when I see you.”
The recording ended, leaving Lance in his dim-lighted room, with his mom voice in the background, feeling far too many things. Things which were amplified when he looked at the phone again and saw, just below the audio, easily missable, a message that made his chest tighten:
(12:34) In a month.
(12:34) We can meet in a month.
(12:35) If that’s alright with you?
Lance couldn’t help it: he screamed. Jumped from the bed, opened the door in a rush and practically ran a marathon through the house before finding his mother and throwing himself at her. He was too happy to talk, to happy to do anything except pick her up and dance in front of his parent’s bedroom with her in his arms, laughing against her neck. He was too big for skin, the bubbly feeling threatening to overflow through his veins. It had been so long since he had felt like this, so blindly happy with a warm pressure against his ribcage.
“We are meeting, we are finally meeting!” he chanted, letting his mother down, kissing her before running off into his room once again.
He threw himself on the bed, fumbling for the phone and typing rapidly when he got a hold of it, ignoring his father’s voice coming from the hallway: “What’s wrong with him?”
(13:15) FUCK YES
(13:15) When where how do i need to buy a ticket
(13:15) Do i need to buy anything
(13:16) Keith don’t drop this bomb on me and then disappear!!!!!!
(13:16) I’m literally jumping on my bed asdfasdf
(13:17) You are the one who disappeared on me, idiot
(13:17) I want to show you something important
(13:17) Something I’ve been working on
(13:17) Would you mind coming here?
(13:18) I will pick you up.
(13:18) You mean drive all the way here just to go back? Are you crazy?
(13:18) No? I’m not going to let you spend money coming here when I have a car
(13:19) So you are going to spend it instead of me. I can catch a plane, Keith
(13:19) I wanna pick you up. Let me do this?
(13:19) Okay. But if you are coming to get me you are staying for a few days.
(13:20) That’s fair
(13:20) Is your family okay with that?
(13:20) Okay with what?
(13:20) Me staying
(13:21) Of course they are idiot!! They want to meet you
(13:21) I want to meet them too
(13:21) And see you
(13: 21) I can’t wait to see you
(13:22) Me neither, god
(13:22) 30 days
(13:22) 30 days!!!!!
Lance smiled, throwing the phone on the sheets and jumping off the bed once again, this time to throw himself in his father’s arms, to tell him all about it as his mother folded laundry on their bedroom, both listening intently.
He was going to see Keith, was going to confess his feelings for him.
How heart-stopping was that?
A week passed. A week of dancing on their tiptoes, flirting without flirting, feeling feigning they didn’t. A week in which Lance managed to start finding himself, slowly but surely, again. If Keith was his pillar, the water was his foundations, and now that he had finally realised it, he felt himself balancing, settling, the ground underneath his feet no longer wobbling.
The nightmares were there, as so was the anxiety and every terror he had gathered through the years. They didn’t disappear, how could they? But he could swim, swim and swim, until he was too tired to think, to feel, the water flowing against his body, engulfing him tightly and getting rid of everything Lance despised.
It became routine, sneaking in the building of the swimming pool and hour or two before it opened, swimming forcefully until his muscles ached. It became routine seeing the tired man from the first time, seeing the kids running around as he exited the building with a lighter heart and a heavier body.
It became so normal after a week that he let his guard down, let himself focus on what his body wanted and nothing more. And that was his mistake, he realised on an early morning as he rose from the water, oxygen filling his lungs as he felt the water lapping at his skin hungrily.
“You sneak in pretty early,” a voice said behind him and, against his better judgment, he screamed.
There was a chuckle that echoed through the space as Lance turned around, heart thundering in his ears at the sudden fright. The man from every morning was there, bottle of vodka in his hand, leaning against the bleachers like he owned the place.
Lance breathed in, willing his heart to calm down, chlorine flooding his senses for a moment before he focused on the man with a frown. His mouth opened, but the man beat him to it, smirking as he rose the bottle of vodka at him:
“Your swimming is impeccable, even when you do it so desperately.”
It hadn’t been a bad night. Not exactly. Keith had called him, waking him up just before his dream started to take an ugly turn, sparing him from the trembling and screams that would have followed. They had talked, Keith checking on him before complaining about the incompetence of night buses (“Don’t you own a bike?” “I can’t ride a bike when I have had a drink, McClain”). It hadn’t been a bad night, but he had no patience for this man.
“You are drunk,” Lance said, matter of factly, slicking his hair back with his fingertips.
“Not as much as I wished,” he replied, taking a swing from the bottle and leaving it beside him afterwards. “I’m Tamrat.”
His black eyes stared at Lance, his skin like charcoal reflecting the patterns of the water and Lance didn’t want to know, didn’t want to ask, didn’t want—
“What are you doing here, Tamrat?”
And maybe he did.
“I have a proposal for you,” Tamrat stood from the bleachers, feline movements that translated into elegance, proving that, yes, he wasn’t as drunk as he would have wished. He stood on the edge of the pool, staring down at Lance with a little smile. “I’m not made to coach children. You are made to destroy rivals with your swimming.”
The choice of words made Lance flinch, imagining a place where he didn’t want to go back, but curiosity caught the best of him. He tilted his head, raising one eyebrow, waiting for Tamrat to continue.
“Let me coach you. Lead you to the nationals. Even further,” he sounded so sure of himself, with those bright eyes and convincing smirk.
And the offer made Lance’s heart jump inside of his chest, muscles throbbing at the opportunity of working for something, not just letting out unrested energy. The opportunity of creating something to remember, not to forget. He yearned, so much, to have a goal, to feel useful, to know that he had his life under control.
“You don’t even know me,” he said, despite of this, swimming to get closer to the edge of the pool, unconcerned of Tamrat’s gaze on him.
“Lance McClain. You come here every early morning for a reason I’m not interested in. You have potential you could exploit if you worked hard. I don’t need to know anything else. From now,” he added, leaning down and extending a hand towards Lance’s form.
“Aren’t the swimmers that go to nationals supposed to have trained for years?” he asked, taking the hand after assessing it and gasping when he found himself suddenly on the edge of the pool, Tamrat already pulling away, calmly, almost as if he hadn’t just pulled Lance out of the pool with a mere swift movement of an arm.
“That’s why you would have to work harder.”
And the situation was surreal, ridiculous even. A man, almost as washed out as him, offering Lance something that sounded too good? That was so out of his reach?
You fought against the Galra empire and saved the universe, his brain supplied, and he closed his eyes, breath suddenly too shaky to seem normal.
“Give me time to think about it,” is what he ended up saying, conflicted emotions stirring inside his ribcage.
“Of course,” Tamrat said, softly, making his way to the bleachers and leaning back against them once again, giving Lance space, and the opportunity to get out of there.
Which he gracefully took. His clothes were on in a minute and his feet were carrying him out of there without even thinking, his body still turned towards Tamrat, but he had his eyes closed, head tilted towards the ceiling, unaware of Lance’s predicament.
The door felt heavy against his palm when he finally reached it and opened it, the noise thunderous in the silence of the building. He didn’t look back, but Tamrat’s voice followed him, tangling itself around his body.
“Tamrat Olujimi, remember it!” he exclaimed before the doors closed behind Lance.
He bit his lip, phone already out, typing as he exited the building. The cool air was a blessing to his confused trail of thoughts, but nothing could have prepared him for what he found out when he typed Tamrat’s name on his phone:
Tamrat Olujimi. Professional Swimmer. Retired four years ago, due to a shoulder injury. Coached two of the actual best swimmers in the world.
Your swimming is impeccable.
It wasn’t a bluff. It wasn’t a joke. The fact that one of the best swimmer coaches out there had seeked him out and complimented his swimming wasn’t something he had taken out of a dream. His hands were shaking, feet rooted to the ground as he stared at his phone’s screen.
Lead you to the nationals.
His body was throbbing. Yes, it was telling him. Yes, as if Lance’s heart wasn’t trying to take off from his chest. And he knew. He knew with the force of a thousand stars that he wanted this more than anything. More than he could understand.
And so, as he watched the sun rising rapidly through the horizon, he willed himself to understand.
By the time he arrived at his home’s porch, he was still shaking. It was late, his family would be awake, and the questions would come. And he didn’t want that, just wanted to curl up underneath the sheets and think about Tamrat and his offer long and hard, until the rest of the world disappeared and he could reason with his himself.
But he would probably be unable to do that, so he sighed, bracing himself, and opened the other, mouth half-opened in a call for his mother before he froze, eyes widening and breath shortening. There was a figure sitting on one of the kitchen’s chair, which looked up at the sound of the door and stared at him. A little tender smile was all it took to leave Lance speechless, to make him realise how desperately he had missed it and for how tortuously long. If his heart hadn’t been aching before, it might as well had bursted right then.
“Hunk?” |
To all who gave feedback on the chapters being too short, thank you for sharing your opinion. Taking a break and being given the chance to review the characters and plot, and re-reading posted and non-posted chapters, helped me to feel more comfortable with creating longer chapters. I hope the progression of the story flows better.
Thank you again for your patience.
Storm sat in the other waiting room by himself. His Aunt and Uncle wanted to sit with him, but he asked to be alone. Every now and then, when he looked up, he met Ayasha's sad gaze, and while he didn't want her to be sad, his anger wouldn't abate. His only focus was the woman on the operating table in the other room, and their life and future together. Sitting there was making him remember; remember when they were so happy, the days when he was in complete domestic bliss because her. Remembered the days when they would do house chores together or cook or swim or took long bike rides.
He missed her smile, the one he knew was only for him. The one that made his heart beat faster. He missed her kindness towards his friends; she supported his relationship with them and never tired to change it. She was the only girlfriend they had all accepted and cared about. He smiled as he thought about how they would take her side against him just to annoy him. It was their way of showing him that they approved.
While lost in thought, the surgery door swung open and Helen and Collin came out. Everyone when to Helen but he stood away.
"She's fine and everything when well. She's being moved to recovery."
"Thank you so much Helen," Annetta said.
Helen smiled but looked directly at Storm and nodded.
Storm nodded back, "Thank you,' he mouthed silently.
Helen left and Ayasha moved towards Collin but he stopped her, "Sweetheart, I have to get cleaned up. See you shortly."
"Okay. Thank you Collin," Ayasha said.
Collin smiled, "Silly," he said to her. "Storm can I see you in my office, please."
Everyone turned to Storm as Collin walked away.
"What was wrong?" Storm asked as soon as Collin came out of the bathroom.
"I know Helen is officially Salina's doctor but I would like to know a few things if you believe you can trust me. Please note, I will keep whatever you tell me between us unless the information can be used to save Salina's life."
"Okay, what you want to know?" Storm asked curiously.
"Salina has the money, so why didn't she get medical care? What else happened to her?"
"What do you mean?" Storm asked evasively.
"Storm, please don't BS me. I'm focusing on Salina right now," Collin stated as he pulls on a clean scrub shirt.
"I'm not trying to BS you Collin, but I don't know what you know," Storm glared at him.
"Fine. From what Helen said, Salina was assaulted prior to this. Apparently it caused massive scaring of her uterus..."
Scared Storm interrupted. "I don't understand...Helen just said she's fine. Is there more to her illness that you're not telling me? What is really wrong with her Collin? Can she get better? I..."
"Storm wait, Helen is good; one of the best in my opinion. She knew something was wrong. It's why she wouldn't let Salina leave and she was right. Salina had surgery before, didn't she?"
"Yes, when she was kidnapped and beaten. Her injuries were so bad they had to do surgery." Storm paused for a moment before continuing. "Attempts were made on her life while she was in the hospital. It's probably why she never went to a doctor. She's been living in fear since then." He sat and placed his elbows on his knees and stared at the wall feeling lost.
"Is she safe?" Collin asked after a while.
"For now yes. Dara got bodyguards to watch her all the time now."
"Ahhh, the new people on staff that seem to only stay near her room."
"Yes." He stood. "Collin, please tell me the truth. Is she going to be okay?"
"I don't know Storm. The damage was extensive. Helen did the best she could."
Storm and Collin made their way to Salina's room. No one was there besides Ayasha. Brother and sister looked at each other before Ayasha turned away and went into her husband's arms while Storm quietly entered Salina's room.
Salina was sitting up in bed having just finished having dinner, a bowl of soup. Since the day of the surgery, everyone had visited and given her their well wishes. Iris and Ayasha had left not too long ago. Physically she was feeling much better but emotionally she was still very sad. Her door opened and in walked Helen along with her nurse.
"You look much better and I'm happy to hear you're feeling better too."
"Thank you. What was the real problem?" Salina asked.
"You developed massive scar tissues from your previous surgery and they were tearing a part. Your body was trying to heal itself but it needed some help to get rid of the tissues. It was too much for it to handle on it's own."
"What does that mean for me now?"
"Do you want the honest truth?"
"Yes, that would be nice."
"Your pregnancy was a miracle. Based on the amount of scaring, you shouldn't have been able to get pregnant in the first place. With the removal of most of the scar tissue, getting pregnant will still be difficult but not such an impossibility. Your body preparing for the pregnancy and the growth of the fetus, began to tear a part the scar tissues faster. I'm sorry you lost the baby, but it showed a problem that could have been worse. You could have developed cervical and uterine cancer and not know until it was too late. You have to come in for regular check-ups every three months for a while. I want to monitor your healing closely, but I don't think you're going to have any much problems from here on out." Helen paused gauging her reaction. "Enjoy your last night. I'm discharging you in the morning."
"Thank you Helen. I appreciate everything. Please make the appointment and let me know."
"Already done. My office will call you with the information."
"I don't recall giving you a key," Storm said to Collin as he took a swig of his beer.
Collin took the chair adjacent from him with small table between them. "You didn't," Collin replied. "I took it off Ayasha's keyring," he said as if it was perfectly normal.
They sat by the pool, looking at the still turquoise water, not a ripple marring it's perfect stillness.
"I met Ayasha when her ex-boyfriend tried to accost her in the parking lot of a restaurant. Before I could tell him to get lost, she told him that she was going to tell her brother and he would regret it. I thought it sounded childish but then I noticed how scared he got. It made me wonder if she was the sister of some notorious gangster but still decided to take the chance and ask her out. After a few dates, I asked her about that day and what she said. She simply replied, 'My brother loves me and would hurt anyone who hurts me.' If it was to scare me, it sort of did. When I met you, I was wary of you as I knew you were of me. But after being around you a few more times, I understood what she meant. If anyone looks beneath the surface long and hard enough, they'll realize you're a lot more dangerous than you seem." Collin paused. "I'm glad I got to know you Storm. I know if I came to you for help, you would at least listen and you would give me good advise. But I also know you would destroy me in an instant if it meant protecting Ayasha and now Lilly. But what I want to know is, why do you think you have the right to hurt my wife, the woman I love, just because she's your sister?" he asked accusingly.
"I didn't hurt..."
"Yes, you did," Collin interrupted cholericly. "My wife is hurt because she lost her niece or nephew. She's hurt because her brother lost his baby. She's hurt because her brother is in pain and she can't offer him and the woman he loves, a woman she cares about, any comfort, and Storm, I hate holding my wife while she cries herself to sleep at night because you're in pain. The only thing she wants, is to be there for you. You have no right to punish her for loving and caring about you both. Stop being an asshole to her." he snapped before getting up and walking away.
Mike and Storm stared at each other across the island of Storm's kitchen.
"What the hell do you mean, you can't find him? Mike, she's coming home today. I need her to feel safe and she won't, knowing that he's still out there and after her. He cause her to loose our baby, Mike. Why the fuck is the department not taking this seriously?"
"We are Storm..."
"NO! Mike, none of you are but I will. Dara was able to get information on him that the fucking police department with all their so called physiologist and testing and exams couldn't find out."
"Storm that's not fair. You know Dara has connections we are unable to afford or utilize. We're doing everything we can but I've been removed from the case because I'm friends with the both of you. So what do you want me to do? Huh? I'm trying to track him on my time off and I'm doing the best I can."
Storm sighed. "I'm not mad at you Mike but I want that bastard caught because if I catch him, your department will be picking up a dead body."
"Storm you can't..."
"Wrong Mike, I'm going to protect my family and that's what Salina is to me, my family, and the baby we lost, that was a part of my heart."
"Storm..."
"I have to go. I have to get her from the hospital."
"Are you going to get her bodyguards?"
"They've been at the hospital since this incident began."
"Who were they?"
"They're trained to blend in. You didn't think she would be left unprotected or that I would rely on the police to protect her did you?"
"No, I guess you wouldn't," Mike said and walked out with him.
Salina hardly recognized the cars as they passed by. Seated in the back seat of the luxury BMW with the heavily tinted windows, she tried but failed to focus on any of the many feelings she was experiencing; joy for leaving the hospital or confusion about her future with Storm, all played through her mind but none held her attention. Suddenly, her door was being opened and it was then she realized they were at Storm's home. Sighing she got out and moved to the trunk to get her bags but they were already in the driver's hand. A man, dressed in a dark suit was standing by the front door and immediately she knew he was a bodyguard. She looked up at Storm when she felt his hand on the small of her back as he gently nudged her forward.
As she neared the door, the man greeted them both, "Ma'am, sir," he said stiffly.
"Hello," Salina replied softly but was surprised when Storm greeted him in a very friendly tone.
She was still in danger. It was the only reason for the bodyguards and that level of friendliness meant he'd been hired for sometime now. That meant Storm was in danger because of her. Eastman was still on the run; correction, he was still around and possibly plotting to hurt her and anyone who got in his way. Finally her mind focused on one thought and she made a decision. She had to leave. It was the only way to keep Storm safe and to no longer see the anger he had for her.
The chauffeur requested where to put her bags, but she and Storm replied at the same time.
"In the bedroom," said Storm.
"By the door," said Salina.
Storm looked at her before looking back to the chauffeur, "Our bedroom's that way," he said pointing the direction.
Salina looked away before moving to the kitchen while Storm when to the door to call the bodyguard in.
"Salina, this is Ryan. Ryan this is Salina, the woman you are protecting."
"Good morning," Salina greeted somberly.
"Good morning ma'am," Ryan returned neutrally.
"He's going to be with you everywhere," said Storm.
"Even in the bathroom?" she asked sarcastically.
"He'll check any room before you enter even in this house."
Salina looked away. She felt caged. "I'm going to lay down. Please excuse me," she said as she walked away.
When she got to the bedroom door, she stopped. Looking at the bed, she remembered the last text message she sent to Storm, telling him she needed to speak with him as soon as he returned. She thought about what it would have felt like, to lie in that bed with him, their baby cradled between them. Feeling despondent, she returning to the kitchen. Storm was on the phone ordering lunch.
"I"m going home," she declared.
"You are home," he replied glancing at her then continuing the order.
"No! I'm going to my apartment. I'm not staying here," she affirmed.
"Please send that over by 12:30 P.M. Thank you," Storm said finishing the call. He put the phone on the counter as he addressed her. "Salina, you have to stay here. It's..."
"No I don't and I won't. I'm leaving," she snapped and turned towards the door.
Suddenly she was whipped around and her arms were in a vice grip, his face to hers menacingly. "You're not going anywhere, do you hear me? NO WHERE!! I've already lost a baby. That bastard took my baby from me without me even having a chance to know it was there. I'm not, I REFUSE to loose you too. You are not going back to your apartment for anything!" He turned to Ryan, "She doesn't leave this house today unless I say so, got it?" His attention was on her again and it was a few hard breaths before he released her and stopped away, slamming the front door behind him.
Salina placed her face in her hands and began to cry.
Ayasha saw the deliver man and wondered why lunch was being delivered. She had told Dara she would bring by lunch and dinner for everyone. The chauffeur had gone back to the main house and the other bodyguards would be coming on duty in a day or so. A total of five bodyguards would be on duty, working round the clock shifts until ex-officer Terry Sloane was apprehended. She didn't know if Storm was in but she was willing to put up with his anger, and be supportive to Salina. She had decided she wasn't going to let Salina go through this ordeal by herself, whether her brother liked it or not.
Ryan was already familiar with her, them having met a few days prior. He readily opened the door when she knocked and allowed her entry to the house. Another 'thank you' she had to give to Dara who understood that Salina couldn't be allowed to go through this by herself, and made sure that the bodyguards knew all the necessary people who would be visiting at one time or another. But as soon as she walked a bit into the house, she felt unease. Something didn't feel 'right'. Looking back at Ryan, she noticed he quickly averted eye contact from her.
"Where is she Ryan?"
"She's in the room," he said pointing a room on the opposite side of the house.
"Why that room?" Ayasha asked but more to herself than Ryan as she walked away. "Thank you," she responded absently.
Ayasha knocked at the door but didn't hear anything so she called out softly in case Salina was sleeping. "Salina? It's Ayasha. Are you awake?"
After some rustling, Ayasha received a response. "Yes, I am. I'll be right out."
As soon as Salina opened the door, Ayasha could tell there was something wrong. "What happened? Why are you crying?"
"It's nothing. Why are you here?" Salina asked trying to change the subject.
"I brought lunch. Come, lets eat outside. Is Storm here?"
Salina visibly blanched and tried covered her emotion quickly but not before Ayasha saw. "I'm not sure. He left shortly after he brought me here."
"Brought you here?" Ayasha repeated the strange phrase. "Where else would he bring you?" she asked.
Salina tensed. "Thank you for lunch. I'm not very hungry at the moment. Have a good day," Salina said coldly but sadly.
Ayasha watched as Salina move to the kitchen and then to out to the pool. After a few minutes she went out to speak with her.
"Did you two argue?" Ayasha asked behind Salina.
"What does it matter?" Salina asked angrily. "You're his sister and I'm at fault. I just want to go home but that's not going to happen. Am I even allowed to speak with Dara anymore?"
"What? What do you mean?" Ayasha moved closer. "What happened Salina?"
Salina looked at Ayasha painfully wanting to speak, to tell her what she was feeling but not knowing if she could. No matter what, she was Storm's sister and these two were close. They trusted and supported each other but Ayasha seemed more concerned than being ready to blame. "He won't let me go," she said finally. "He told the bodyguard I wasn't allowed got leave, without his permission."
"Storm wouldn't do that unless he had a very good reason," Ayasha tried to reason.
"Yes, he didn't get to know his baby as he so eloquently put it. And I'm the reason," Salina snapped. "Apparently this is suppose to be my prison."
"Salina, he doesn't mean that. He wants you safe. He's not keeping you a prisoner..."
"Yes, he is. He's punishing me by not letting me go. Eastman won't stop and he'll hurt anyone who gets in his way, Me being here is putting him in harm's way," Salina yelled.
"And when Eastman hurts you, what do you think will happen to him then?" Ayasha snapped back. "What do you think it will do to him?
"If I stay, he'll get hurt."
It was a few minutes before Ayasha spoke again, remorsefully. "No one can hurt him more than I have."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"He can't let you go. He can't..."
"If I stay, he'll get hurt," Salina screamed.
"If you go, you'll destroy him." Ayasha yelled back. She looked away and wiped a tear that was threatening to spill before looking back at Salina. "God, you don't get it do you? The one thing he's wanted is a family of his own. I was about five and one night I woke to his mom and our dad argued bitterly. The next day, Storm and his father got into an argument and Storm said he wished I'd never come there. It was many years later before I realized it was because I represented the truth; dad love my mother, not his.
I did everything I could to stay away from him. About a two weeks later we had a storm and I was so scared. I remember huddling in my room by the bed, terrified. His mother was there but she didn't care that I was scared. Dad was away on business. Suddenly, my door flew open and in the doorway was Storm. He was out with his friend and he came home in that storm because he knew I was scared of them. He came over to me and coaxed me out from the corner of the bed, took me to his room where he held me and talked to me until I fell asleep. I remember before I fell asleep, him saying that he would never let anything hurt me but I had already hurt him. I was always going to be the reminder of the family he would never have. But he kept his word. He's protected me and I've wished for him have the only thing he has ever wanted, a family of his own. Someone who truly loves him for him and that's you. If he lost you Salina, he would never recover. If you left, you would resign him to a life of pain and hurt, and I'm asking you not to do that to him. Please don't hurt him like that. He doesn't deserve it. The only thing he's guilty of is loving you. Loving you so much the very thought of you being hurt, hurts him so deeply."
|
Kim and Brian had made love three times that night, each time on the middle of his living room floor. They were both still there, lying next to each other. Brian was fast asleep, laying on his stomach with his hands overlapping beneath his head. Kim, on the other hand, was wide awake. She looked down at Brian's naked, sleeping body and smiled. She kissed him on the forehead and as quickly and as carefully as she could, pulled her arms from around him, trying not to wake him. She gathered up her strewn clothes, got dressed and quietly walked out the door.
As soon as the lock on the door clicked, Brian's eyes blinked open. He stared up at the shadow of the fireplace mantel in front of him. There was really no point in trying to stop her, he'd thought. Kim pretty much did whatever the hell she wanted to do and if she had made up her mind to leave, no amount of coaxing from him would have changed that. So, he lay there, motionless and said nothing as he listened to her dress and make her quiet escape.
As he heard her footsteps in the hall trail off into the distance, he let out a long, deep sigh and closed his eyes again.
****
The next morning, back in Los Angeles, Rachael was just heading out the door of her lavish Los Angeles apartment. Chloe had already headed off for work and had left a quick breakfast of eggs and bacon in the microwave for Rachael.
She ate a few strips of the bacon, quickly made some toast and hustled out the front door.
Rachael was fumbling with her keys with the slice of toast in her mouth when she pushed through the building's front doors and stepped outside. Several people were walking in and glancing behind them. Some looked troubled and still others looked amused. Rachael saw it but paid little attention. She glanced down at her watch and proceeded to walk, double time, toward her car.
She had gotten no closer than twenty feet from her assigned parking space when she stopped, dumbfounded. Her mouth fell open and her jellied toast splattered to the ground as she stared at what was in front of her. A couple walked past her, looking back and shaking their heads in disgust.
Rachael could hardly breathe.
Her black Mercedes was sitting on slashed tires in the parking lot with the word BITCH spray painted in red all over it.
She stopped and looked around for Ellis, wondering if he was nearby. He had been the one who did this, no doubt, and she didn't want him to jump her by surprise.
When she saw no one around, she dropped her purse and slowly walked up to her car. As she did, she noticed long, continuous scratch marks circling the entire body. Rachael's hands started to tremble with anger as she reached out and touched the scratches with her fingers.
She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. She walked over to grab her purse from the ground and ran back inside her apartment.
****
Moments later, when Kim got the call from Rachael, she went into hysterics.
"Oh my God, Rachael, oh my God," she mumbled over and over again as she sat rocking on her hotel room bed. "What is he
?"
"Don't come back to LA, Kim." Rachael demanded. "Not until this is all over. He doesn't know where you are and as long as he doesn't, you'll be safe."
"What about you? What if he tries to hurt you, Rach?"
"I can take care of myself." She said, thinking about the Glock-17 handgun she had tucked away in a hat box in the back of her closet. "That man isn't crazy enough to try to mess with me personally. He might wreck my car, but he doesn't have the guts to come to me face to face."
She thought about the numerous shouting matches the two of them had gotten into over the years. Rachael was no push over and she could always stand her ground. Ellis realized she was much different from Kim in that respect and he, for the most part, left her alone.
"He learned that a long time ago," she added.
"Stay in San Francisco for now, and keep talking with Eric Jeffries. Maybe he can help straighten out some of this mess."
The thought of Eric Jeffries made her ill, but Kim kept their secret business quiet from Rachael. She knew this new turn of events would mean another trip to his house and yet another naked romp on his office couch. She didn't care anymore. If that's what she had to do, so be it. In her eyes it was worth it to keep Rachael and herself safe.
"I'll stop by tomorrow and see if he can take me," she said. Her ironic choice of words made her stomach turn.
"Okay, keep me posted." Rachael hung up the phone.
All Kim could think about at that moment was Brian. He was the safest thing in her life she could think of, and right now, she needed that more than ever.
****
That night Brian was laying in his bed with Kim sitting on top of him with his fingers precariously wandering beneath her shirt. Their kisses making soft smacking noises as their lips connected.
Brian's lips devoured hers and a deep guttural moan escaped his throat. His hands unconsciously went to her head, pushing her lips even further into his as though it were possible. Brian's tongue was taking up residence in Kim's mouth and the area between his legs was searching for a new home as well. Kim felt the sensation of Brian's cool fingers inching up the front underside of her blouse. His left hand found her right breast and mauled it relentlessly.
Kim's lips locked onto Brian's mouth at the touch of his hands, she, barely able to breathe. She moaned as he reached under the thin fabric of her bra and tweaked the velvety brown nipple between his fingers. The gesture sent a spark through her entire body. Kim felt her breasts break free of their restraints when Brian's wandering hands found the fastener located between her breasts. They were full and becoming extremely sensitive to Brian's caresses. He grabbed one breast in each hand and mauled them like bakery dough.
The feeling of Brian's raging erection startled Kim and brought her back to reality. She jumped and broke her kiss from Brian's lips. She thought of how she'd have to meet with Eric Jeffries tomorrow and how she began to loathe the feel of a man inside her. The idea made her sit back on Brian's lap as his lips automatically tried to follow. He sat forward, his lips reaching for hers. When they could no longer find them, he opened his eyes to find Kim looking at him with a pained expression on her face. Her big brown eyes spoke the volumes her lips could not.
"What's wrong?" Brian said, his eyes sparkling in the dim light.
"I can't. I can't do this Brian," she whispered trying to control her erratic breathing.
"Why not?" His sexy voice barely audible as he stared into her eyes while he played with her nipples, hoping the lustful feeling it generated would bring her lips back to his. He let his tongue rest at the corner of his mouth, his eyes dark with desire.
Kim gasped at each tweak of his glorious fingers and found it that much more difficult to pull away.
"You like that?" Brian's lips formed a devilish smile. Kim's only response was the arch of her back and the closing of her eyes. She fell forward onto Brian, her chin resting on his shoulders. Her mouth was settled right next to Brian's ear and her bated breath told him all he needed to know.
"Tell me what you like. You know I'll do anything you ask me to. Tell me what makes you feel good, baby," Brian whispered while kissing the underside of her neck.
Kim finally sat up, looked him in the eye and quickly pulled his hands from beneath her blouse. She fastened her brazier and pulled her shirt back down over her stomach.
"Oh, don't do this
...Jesus," he said reaching for her hands as she yanked them from his. Exasperated, he buried his face into her neck in broken disappointment. The painful ache in his groin was more than he could stand. He spread his arms and rested his head backwards onto the bed's pillow cushions and let out a deep sigh.
"It's like you do a complete one-eighty with me. One night you're warm and affectionate, the next you're as cold as ice. I don't even know what to think anymore."
Kim's eyes began to swell. "I should go," she said getting up from his lap. Brian grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. She landed hard on his erection and it made them both jump.
"No. Stay here with me tonight." His hands caressed her firm buttocks creating a gentle, swaying motion on his pelvis. "Don't leave like you did last time." He ran his hands down the side of her arms. "I want to wake up in the morning with you next to me. I want the first thing I do tomorrow to be making love to you," he whispered.
"Brian," Kim said, shaking her head.
"What?"
"I love your words. I love how you talk to me." She looked down at her hands. "But, I'm afraid that they're just that. Only words." She looked back up at Brian as her tongue raced across her lips.
Brian looked at her and braced her arms just above the elbows.
"I've been down this road before and at the beginning it's always paved with gold and flowers, but in the end it's always the same. It just isn't worth it."
"What are you talking about?"
"Relationships, Brian!" She yelled, jerking her arms from his hands again. "It's all bullshit and there's no way in the world I'm going to fall for it again. It only ends in misery."
The comprehension of her words suddenly eclipsed in Brian's head. Something had happened to her in the past that made her distrustful of relationships, maybe even men in general. He saw it in her eyes every time he looked at her. He had mistaken it for coyness or even teasing before, but now he could see things clearly. That was pain in her eyes. And probably a lot more than he could ever imagine.
"Kim? Your last boyfriend...did he hurt you?"
Kim's eyes darted across the room. They looked everywhere but at Brian.
"He did, didn't he?" A vein suddenly throbbed in his forehead and his lips pursed. His entire face flushed in an instant.
"What did he do to you?" His words were terse as he tried to speak through clenched teeth.
"It doesn't matter, Brian," She said shaking her head again. "It never does." She stood up from his lap sat on the bed with her face in her hands.
He rolled over and stroked her leg.
"I'll make you forget all about him if you let me."
"Don't you see, Brian? I don't
to forget. I need to remember that—" She stopped to find the words, then began again. "I need to remember that the only person in the world I can trust is myself. If I ever forget that, Brian, I'm opening myself up the nightmare again. And not you, or anyone else in the world is worth that."
Brian sat up on his knees and grabbed her by the hands.
"Okay," he said, nodding. "Then is it all right if I make you forget him for just a little while?"
Kim looked down at her hands in his. Brian released them, grabbed her chin and lifted her eyes to his. He could see the pools forming in them.
Brian thought hard about what Kim had gone through. The idea of a man hurting her made him want to choke the last breath out of him. What kind of fucked up guy was her last boyfriend? And why the hell would she have stayed with him?
Brian didn't want to think about it anymore, all he wanted to do was spend the night re-exploring every inch of Kim's body.
He laid her on her back in the center of the bed. The flood lights from the open blinds was all the light there was. It wasn't much, but it was enough to be able to see everything he needed to see and more.
Brian ran his hand up her thigh and let it slip right under her blouse on their way up toward her bosom. His hands coolly glided over her flat stomach and up again between the clasp positioned between her breasts. For the second time tonight, he released it and her breasts were liberated, once again from their cloth prison. He slowly unbuttoned her blouse and let the opening fall to either side of her body. He let out an involuntary moan and let his fingers explore her silky brown bosom with fervor.
While his lips were busy with Kim's top, his hands were having their own fun trying to free her hips from her pants. Brian grabbed at the sides on top of her hips and yanked them down to her thighs. His fingers immediately found themselves between the fleshy folds of her mound. His thumb rubbing her clit while his index and middle fingers slipped inside her. Kim gasped at their entry and gyrated her hips against Brian's hand.
He let his mouth move from her delicate breasts sluggishly down her body. His mouth and tongue replaced his fingers between her legs.
Kim's hands pushed down on his curly brown hair and wrapped her legs around his back. She rocked her body underneath his, feeling herself get closer and closer to that climactic precipice her body ached for.
Then the waves hit.
Brian held her hips tight with his hands as her body fell over the edge with lust.
As soon as the commotion subsided, he couldn't stand it any longer. He had to have this woman and could think of nothing else but being inside of her.
He quickly sat up between her thighs and rested her legs on his shoulders preparing himself for entry into her slick hole. He adjusted his body on his knees and leaned forward toward Kim. Her eyes were closed and sweat glistened on her breasts. She was biting her bottom lip in preparation of his entry into her swollen and aching pussy. Brian grabbed her hips and pulled them down toward his body. Kim's body slid from its former spot, her hair leaving a trail of long, black locks in their path.
Brian carefully let the tip of his cock lay on the opening between Kim's thighs that was already wet with her orgasmic juices. The slickness made his manhood slide upwards accidentally rubbing over her clit. Kim squeaked with pleasure and Brian groaned in return. His hips guided his cock back down toward her opening as he gently pushed it in past her outer lips. He stopped. Reveling in the contrast of the intense heat the head of his cock was engulfed in as opposed to the rest of the shaft. Brian shuddered, then pushed on.
With Kim's legs still resting on either of his shoulders, Brian again grabbed her at the hips and pulled her toward him as far as her body would go. Kim gasped. He was so deep inside her hot, tight hole he could swear that it was what heaven felt like. His hips started their natural, animalistic thrust into her womb slowly at first. Her hips met his with every push. Kim's hands fondled her breasts as her head swayed uncontrollably from side to side. Soft unrecognizable mumbles escaped her lips.
The dim light from the window fell on Kim's body like the moonlight on a lake. She looked more beautiful now than ever, he thought. Her soft, supple, aroused body enjoying every ounce of pleasure it was receiving. The wet sounds of his entry and withdrawal were their aphrodisiac. Brian's deep sighs of pleasure began to intensify right along with Kim's. Brian removed her legs from his shoulders and let his body lay on top of hers with her legs spread wide beneath him. His hands lay on either side of her waist supporting his weight as he pumped his hips between her thighs. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and began to drip down his neck and chest.
Kim wrapped her legs around his waist, the heels of her feet digging into his buttocks. Brian's tongue licked the outside of Kim's thick lips as she pursed them trying to receive his tongue in her mouth. He wouldn't surrender to its capture, but simply teased at her mouth with soft open mouthed kisses and quick and deliberate darts of his tongue.
Brian's thrusts increased in both speed and intensity. Kim's hands wrapped themselves around his waist trying to hold his body tight against her clit as she felt another orgasm coming on. At that moment, Brian quickly withdrew from her hot furnace and sat in front of her, his stiff, glistening cock standing out in front of him like a sword. He pushed her legs open wider spreading them out across the bed. Holding them down, he used his hips to slowly push his cock back inside of her as deep as it would go, then, just as slowly, withdraw himself completely again. Kim moaned at his entry and gasped at his withdrawal. He did this over and over until Kim finally grabbed him at the waist, pushed him insider her and held him there. They both moaned at his re-entry, his half thrusts excruciatingly slow and deliberate again.
Kim unconsciously reached down and played with her clit. The feel of Brian's strong, hard cock stroking in and out of her while her fingers did a dance with her love button sent Kim over the edge. Her back arched as her body tried in vain to lift itself from the bed. Brian, still on top of her thrusting in and out felt the throes of Kim's orgasm and it made his balls tighten releasing the velvety white liquid from his cock.
Brian's orgasm came hard and his ejaculatory thrusts lasted for minutes after the initial one. He could feel the juices spill from between Kim's thighs as his cock softened and slowly began to withdraw from its carnal heaven.
After their heart rates returned to normal, Brian looked down at Kim and smiled.
"I feel so used," he said covering his face in his hands in mock embarrassment.
"Oh, you have no idea what used is," she said turning only her torso around to look up at him.
Brian laughed.
As she heard the words descend from her mouth she thought about what it really meant. She had spent the last four years of her life being used and found nothing funny about a single moment of it. She looked at Brian's glazed eyes and smiling face and thought how good it must be to be free of the shackles of fear. To not constantly have to look over your shoulder, or wonder if the next corner you turn will run you right into the face of evil. To live her life without the thought of harm on a daily basis seemed like heaven to her. To Kim, Brian was the equivalent of heaven, personified.
Brian lifted his body from Kim's and sat up against the headboard. He was staring at Kim's glorious body when he noticed a small trickle of cum slowly dripping from her inner left thigh. He thought his cock must have still been covered with it after he pulled out of her and it brushed against her limb. Brian swept the white, milky film from her smooth mahogany leg with his finger and placed it at her mouth. Kim opened it and suckled his finger like a baby at its mother's breast.
Brian grunted as he felt that familiar tingle in his sack again.
****
Early that next afternoon, Brian had stopped by Kim's hotel to take her out for a quick lunch before heading back to work. Kim had slept over at his place last night and, as promised, they'd made love that morning before he went off to work and Kim went back to her hotel.
But just as he was about to pull up into the hotel parking ramp, he saw Kim's blue Corolla pulling out. Curious as to where she was going, he followed her. He was sure she'd spotted him a few times on the road, but whenever he blew his horn to try to get her attention, he was ignored. There was obviously something weighing heavy on her mind as she drove to her destination almost as though she were on autopilot.
Brian had followed Kim, remarkably undetected all the way to Eric's house. He stopped his car a block from the street where Kim had parked her Corolla. He put his SUV in park and watched her walk up the door as an older, balding man greeted her and invited her inside.
After a few minutes had passed, Brian's curiosity had gotten the better of him. He walked up to the house and stood in front of the large ivory door.
He wondered if he should ring the doorbell, but figured he would have a lot of explaining to do if he'd done that. He peeked inside the massive picture window in front and looked in. There was nothing there but a long, spiraling staircase and a few doors. He heard voices coming from inside and quickly ran around to the side of the house to their source.
Inside, Eric was stripping out of his clothes and Kim was already on all fours on the black leather couch, completely naked. Eric was priming his meat with his hand staring intensely at the beautiful view in front of him. He slipped two fingers into her pussy, fingering her while still pumping away at his cock with the other hand.
Brian looked around at all the windows on the side of the house and tried to find the one he thought he'd heard the voices coming from. But the voices had gone quiet just as quickly as they had started. Just as he was about to give up and head back to work, he heard something again.
Not voices this time, but strange noises two windows down. The blinds were mostly closed but as he peeked inside he could see under one of the blades.
It was the man that had greeted Kim at the door. He was kneeling on the couch, his naked ass facing Brian and pumping back and forth. Brian tried to get a closer look and lowered his body to see what the hell he was thrusting
. He had already had an idea but wanted to prove to himself that it wasn't true. He peered through the lower blades on the horizontal blinds and saw a woman on her knees in front of him.
It was Kim.
Brian's breath stopped. He turned and slammed his back against the wall, closing his eyes. He shook his head and blinked then looked back at the window again. It was real. Eric was still deliriously thrusting away behind Kim.
Brian felt sick to his stomach and thought he was going to throw up. He gathered himself, wandered back to his vehicle and sped off.
****
Trish looked down suddenly at Rachael with her mouth wide open.
"
? She went to his
" She said in wide-eyed disbelief.
Rachael looked up at her, confused.
"What's wrong with that? I hired him as my lawyer about a year ago."
Rachael's seat rose in short, abrupt bursts with the pumping of Trish's foot.
She was sitting in the chair with an Essence magazine draped over her smock covered lap. The salon was nearly empty except for one other stylist across from them preparing her station for her first client of the afternoon.
"I heard about
, girl. He used to be a lawyer here in LA but moved up North after too many women filed sexual harassment suits against him. I had a customer who hired him to help with her divorce case. She said he tried to stick it to her. I don't know how true that is 'cuz she was crazy. It was hard to believe anything that came out of her mouth. She was always accusin'
body of
thin'. She even claimed I overcharged for her for a perm I gave her over six months after I did it!"
"Anyway, she was sayin' he made all of his money from his male clients, because apparently he didn't want
from his female ones, if you know what I mean."
"A lot of desperate women came to him for help. There were all these claims against him and who knows how many more that never came forward. The women couldn't prove he actually done anything to 'em and, well--," she said shaking her head. "He was his own lawyer. I guess he really is as good as they say because nothin' stuck to him."
"When some lawyer's council or whatever it was, found out about it all, they kept it pretty hush, hush and tried to sweep it under the rug. But in the end they decided it would be best to take away his license for the whole county. Yeah," she said nodding. "They pretty much kicked his sorry ass out of LA. So, that's when I heard he moved up to Sacramento --,
"San Francisco." Rachael corrected, her eyes narrowing. Her fists were clenched beneath her black smock.
Trish nodded her head as she rolled the curling iron up Rachael's long brown tendrils.
"Yeah, that's it, San Francisco. I haven't heard anything about him since. He probably just set up shop up there doin' the same ol' thing. If it's even true," she added.
"Like I said, all this I heard from that crazy woman who was always complainin' about something. She don't come around here no more, though."
Suddenly, Trish stopped. She held the smoking hot curling iron in her hand and looked down at Rachael.
"And you said Kim went to go see him?"
Trish shook her head and grunted then turned around to grab a comb from the counter behind her.
"Girl, if I was you, I—" she said, cutting herself off as she turned back around to the empty chair in front of her. She looked up and saw the front door closing as the bell above it jingled in its wake.
|
•°⁴⁶°•
My Love
─✵─────────
"Fuck everything"
Taehyung's voice was hoarse as he opened his fifth can of beer that evening.
"Beer tastes like shit. I don't understand why anyone would want to drink something so bitter" Taehyung said and chugged down a couple of sips from his can. Jimin chuckled from beside him, taking a sip from his own can.
Sitting on the tiled floor of Jimin's dorm that probably hadn't been swept since the beginning of summer, drinking cheap beer wasn't really Taehyung's plan when he visited Jimin two days after he broke up with Jeongguk.
He wasn't going to rant to Jimin and cry about the shit he had brought upon himself because Taehyung was pretty sure Jimin knows every aspect of the story there is to be known. But what had Taehyung stumbling into Jimin's room that evening, wanting to cry his eyes out, was him seeing Jeongguk in the hallway that morning.
Taehyung didn't have Jeongguk's lecture that Monday. And he was sure he was able to get through the day without a breakdown. But right after his first lecture, he caught a glimpse of Jeongguk, wearing a navy blue button-down, hair a bit messy and deep bags under his eyes, walking down the hallway filled with students with his head down. He had looked so tired and Taehyung couldn't help but drown in sadness and guilt that he was the one who made Jeongguk this way.
"You're so fucking stupid," Jimin said, annoyed. "How many times did I fucking tell you this isn't going to work out? And you're going to get hurt? And how many times did you come to my dorm to cry about him after he told you to get the fuck out of his life?"
Taehyung sniffled.
"You never learn," Jimin said.
"He looked dead today. I can't imagine how much he's suffering right now" Taehyung let out a sob.
"And you look like you've died thrice and reincarnated twice on the same day. You haven't gotten any sleep in two days. Believe me, you look worse than him. I can't believe the way you still pity that jerk"
"He isn't a jerk Jimin! I was being a dick to him!"
"How is choosing yourself over him being a jerk to him? Dude, have some self-respect. Because all I've seen is you throwing it out of the window every time you got back together with him"
Taehyung sniffled. "I told him to leave"
"Didn't he tell you that a couple of times?"
"B-But he looked so broken"
"Oh my fucking god I can murder someone with the rage I'm feeling right now. I get that you still love him but why can't you fucking get that what he's going through is what you went through multiple times after he told
you
to fuck off?"
Taehyung sighed and took another sip from his can. "I know, okay? It's exactly why I broke up with him. It just hurts to see him like this. And I left him when he was at his worst. I should stay with him when he's going through so much"
"Tae, look. If he can choose to have his child in his life, you can choose to leave him to pursue your dreams. Both things are not related to the relationship per se, you know? Because it's not your place to tell him to abandon his child nor is it his place to tell you not to go to your dream college"
Taehyung nodded, tears brimming his eyes.
"It's nothing to feel bad about, Tae," Jimin said, "It's your life. Your dreams, which you had long before he came into your life. You don't have to pause your life for anyone"
Taehyung wiped the tears that ran down his cheeks.
"If someone in your life makes you feel bad about pursuing your dreams and they stand in the way, they don't belong in your life"
"I don’t think he doesn’t want me to pursue my dreams. He just doesn’t want me to leave him and I don’t either! But I can’t have both and it’s the best for both of us, I think. It’s not like I’m not hurting over here because of the decision I took regarding myself" Taehyung whispered.
"If Namjoon ever treated me like a second priority in his life, I would leave him instantly. Because I know my worth. I deserve to have someone who doesn't make me question my worth every time they throw me away. And I deserve to be treated like a main character"
"Period" Taehyung whispered as he wiped his tears.
"You've asked him so many times to not treat you like some toy but for more than half of the time you guys have known each other, he has treated you like a burden. Like some external force he wanted to keep but also would destroy his precious family. He only ever thought about divorce after he found out Aria wasn't his and that speaks a lot"
"And that never mattered because she's still his daughter. It changed nothing"
"Exactly" Jimin sighed. "And he came crying to you like a day after he told you to get the fuck out of his life. You should've held your ground. You aren't a rehab for broken men. You have no self-respect and it shows. Because after everything, you were there to welcome him with wide arms. Stupid bitch"
"I'm sorry, okay? I just love him so much. And I feel like I did the right thing now, after all this time. But I still love him and I feel so bad. It's just that... it didn't happen all of a sudden you know?"
"What?"
"I had been thinking about everything for the past week. Since I found out that the baby is actually Jeongguk's. It's selfish of me because I know he's trying but I just kept feeling like the chances of him leaving me again are higher than it used to be because of the new baby"
"That's right, though. It's his kid so who knows what would happen in the future? And he is going to prioritize the kid over you obviously. Even if he does split parenting. Like...that's his blood. And you..."
"Yeah exactly. And I lost it when he asked if I was okay with him not getting a divorce. Because that's just ridiculous. And I got so mad, Jimin. Because that had been the only thing I had been looking forward to so he could finally be mine. And he said that it could affect our future and it was something I hadn't thought about at all"
"Yeah"
"So when he told me that it would even affect my future I kind of lost it. And what if he loses his job? He can't afford to lose his job especially when he's going to have another child. And I started having second thoughts the moment he told me the consequences. It only added to what I was thinking about the previous week"
Taehyung took another sip off his can. "When I got the email it was the turning point for me. it was like the solution for everything but...just not in the way I wanted" Taehyung started sobbing. “And I told him I didn’t think long distance would work”
Jimin patted his back with a sigh.
"Which isn't true because I would want nothing more than to be with him and forget everything"
"Tae..."
"But I also want to go to Art Academy and it felt like a huge opportunity to leave everything and start anew"
"I know, Tae"
“It’s not like I want to leave him. But I just thought that I would continue to get hurt if I kept staying with him. It hurt me so much when he asked me if it was okay with me if he stays in the marriage. And his reasoning was my future. But I’ve seen this happen before. It’s like a never-ending cycle and he can decide to leave me if something goes sideways in his family like he always did”
“If he really wanted to choose you for once and not be unreasonable, he would have decided to go with you to New York”
“Yeah I wouldn’t mind that. I wish he would. But I just don’t want to have a long distance relationship when he’s still stuck with that family of his. And he needs to get his shit together. He keeps doing things for people around him and nothing for himself! And he’s just depending on other people for his basic needs. He needs to fix himself without any attachment with anyone”
Jimin nodded.
"And it's like he doesn't know himself outside of the roles he has played in his life. Like a father, husband, and now a boyfriend. I had been thinking about all these things over the past week and about the things you told me. And I figured out that more than me, he needs time to heal alone"
"Yeah he does"
“You made a mature decision. And as I said before, if he really wanted to be with you, he could’ve gone to New York with you. And you said he has an opportunity to find a job there because of Professor Seokjin. So he
can
come with you. Both of you have a future there. Both of you have balanced odds right now because whatever decision either of you take, it would result in losing one thing. So it’s this or that. But if he decides to stay behind with his family, why do you have to give up on your future?”
“You’re right. He has the choice to come with me but I know he wouldn't do that because of Aria. His family to him is like my future to me. I can choose my future the way he chose his family”
“Exactly”
"I told him he needs to make efforts for me but all the efforts he had been making for me, like getting a divorce and making our relationship stable are things he should be doing for himself, you know? Because his whole life he was trapped in a marriage he never wanted and he should be getting out of it because he's suffering. Not because of me. He needs to get out of this mess for himself"
"That's true"
"But I decided to leave him for myself because I don't think I can go through another heartbreak"
Jimin sighed. "There had been a ton of red flags in this relationship since the beginning. You ignored it all, Tae. He may be a good person and his intentions towards you might have been genuine. He loves you. But everything about the relationship was wrong. I think we all knew this was going nowhere but still didn't speak of it. I feel like it brought you both more sadness and damage than happiness. You two fucked up each other's lives. The best thing you can do right now is take a break and let yourselves heal alone. You both need it. You both need to get back on track"
"Yeah" Taehyung whispered. His heart ached but the truth was bitter. And harder to swallow than all the lies he had been feeding himself throughout his relationship with Jeongguk. The lie that he was okay with being the second person to come to Jeongguk’s mind. The second priority. The second choice. The burden. The person Jeongguk wants but doesn’t want to have in his life at the same time.
“Tae, it’s like this,” Jimin said, making Taehyung look at him. “Jeongguk had lived with Jieun and Aria for sixteen years. He prioritized Aria and Jieun because of that. He never stopped to think about what would make him happy. So it’s instinctual that he does the same thing when he’s with you”
“Yeah”
“I mean I understand why he did what he did but I’m just mad at him because he hurt you. You didn’t deserve to get hurt”
Taehyung sniffled.
“But an understanding isn’t always a justification. You can understand why someone did what they did but that doesn’t make it suddenly okay. What’s done is done and the effect of it is still there”
“Yeah”
“You can understand the reason behind Jeongguk’s actions but that doesn’t mean any of the things he did to you are okay. Nor does it invalidate what you felt when he did those things”
Taehyung nodded. “I understand that. The reason I decided to take a break is because I don’t want to be hurt like that again. I understand that he was being selfless and he kept sacrificing himself for his family. And I know that it doesn’t mean he loves me any less. But I feel like he only stopped to think about his family and not me. He never paid attention to how all the things that he was doing would hurt me”
Jimin nodded.
“I tried to understand him and I wanted this relationship to work so badly. But he still just keeps choosing his family’s happiness over me and it makes me feel like I don’t matter at all. As if he’s taking me for granted or something. I know it’s hard for him but '' Taehyung wiped his tears and let out a sob. “I just keep getting hurt. I don’t want to get hurt. And I don’t know if it’s selfish of me but I just don’t want to be hurt anymore. I get hurt because I expect him to give me some value and treat me like I’m important but every time he chooses his family over me it makes me feel like I don’t matter at all. It hurts me so much”
Jimin wrapped his arms around Taehyung. “I know, Tae. I know he loves you. But it’s not selfish to choose yourself. To choose your future. It’s essential. It’s the basic necessity”
Taehyung let out loud sobs in Jimin’s arms.
"You deserve someone who would treat you like a king. And he needs time alone to figure out who he is and what he wants. You need to go live that life you've dreamt. Don't let anyone make you pause your life for them. No one is willing to do that for you"
A week later, Taehyung found himself in front of Jeongguk's front porch, ringing the doorbell.
A few moments later Taehyung heard the rhythmic tap of footsteps closing up on the door and his heart beat erratically in his chest as he stood there, fumbling with his fingers. Myriad times had he stood on this very front porch and myriad times had he rung the bell and waited for someone to open it. But never had he felt this anxious.
The door clicked and opened, revealing a tall man dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.
"Hey" Jeongguk whispered. "Come on in"
"Hey" Taehyung smiled at him and stepped inside the house. He heard Jeongguk close the door behind him.
Taehyung stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room, looking around the house. It had been almost a month since he had come inside this house. And nothing seemed to have changed. He missed the time he spent here, sneaking in and out, talking with Jeongguk, discreetly touching each other, giggling at their stupid jokes, and constantly exchanging secretive glances and smiles, hiding a million lies and truths behind. Hiding the things they did when no one was looking. He missed all of it.
He missed Jeongguk.
They were playing a dangerous game. And their house of cards had stumbled down, taking everything they've built with it.
Jeongguk stood behind Taehyung. He could feel his presence. He longed to touch him. Feel his skin. Feel his warmth. Feel his-
"Aria probably won't be back for another hour. And Jieun won't be home until dinner. We have time" Jeongguk said.
Taehyung turned around to face Jeongguk. "Okay" He whispered.
Jeongguk stared at him, eyes tired and holding a look of longing. A silence stretched between them. Until both of them decided to speak at the same time.
"I missed you"
"I'm leaving"
"Oh" Jeongguk said, blushing instantly. Taehyung felt his heart break.
"I missed you too," Taehyung said, taking a step towards Jeongguk.
Jeongguk nodded. He looked like he didn't know what to say.
"I've decided that I want to go," Taehyung said, breaking the silence between them. "My mom and all my friends told me I should go. And the campus is willing to give me a refund of this semester's money since it has barely been two weeks. My mom told me she could afford to pay the tuition and I could find a job too"
Jeongguk nodded. "Yeah that's good. You don't have a reason not to go"
"Jeongguk I really don't want to leave you but..."
"I get it, Tae," Jeongguk said, looking at him with hooded eyes. "I know you love me and I know you want to be with me. It's alright. This is your future we’re talking about"
"I'm sorry"
Jeongguk shook his head. "Don't be. It's just...I don't want you to leave me. And I really thought we could stay together and I...you're my only happiness. I don't know what to do without you" Jeongguk shook his head. "I'm not trying to guilt-trip you. I'm sorry. I mean... your decision is right. If I were you, I'd leave me too. I wouldn't stay in a place I'm not treated less than what I'm worth. And you’re right. I still want to give priority to Aria and I too don’t want you to get hurt by me like this”
Taehyung sighed. "I always told you not to leave me. And you did. Multiple times. But now I'm leaving you so I won't have to go through it again when you leave me someday"
Jeongguk stayed silent for a while. And then he let out a soft whisper. "But I'm not going to leave you"
"But isn't that what you said all those times? And you still left me, told me fuck off even after you knew I had feelings for you. It'll only be a matter of time until you say that again when something comes up with your family. And I just can't go through that again"
"But I love you"
"I love you too but I love myself a little more. And I don't want to get hurt when the possibility of me getting hurt again is like the elephant in the room. Because all this time we've spent together you've never hesitated on discarding me out of your life when it comes to your family's stability. And throughout our relationship, all I've been is a mistress. Even when we were in love. So I'm stepping out of this relationship first"
"I understand you but things are a lot different now, Tae. I treated you like that when we weren't in love with each other. A lot of things have changed now. And I want to be with you now. You're one of the most important people in my life, Tae"
"I know but you did tell me to leave you even after we confessed to each other? I don't understand why you didn't tell me not to leave you that moment because it's not like finding out your daughter isn't yours changed anything. You could've taken the decision to divorce her earlier if you really wanted to be with me but you didn't. And the responsibilities on your shoulders had only gotten heavier"
Jeongguk shook his head, eyes brimming tears. "I was just scared of ruining Aria's life. I didn't want her to find out that I'm so fucked up as a father"
Taehyung placed his hand on Jeongguk's shoulder. "You are a good father. But you're more than just a father, Gguk. You're you and I don't think you know that yet. You need to find out who you are"
Jeongguk looked at Taehyung with glassy eyes. "Can't we find out who I am together?"
"We can”
Jeongguk looked up at that.
“Come with me to New York”
Jeongguk stared at Taehyung for a few long seconds. Then he let out a sigh.
"I...can't"
“I figured. I’m going to New York. I’m going to chase my dreams. I’m choosing that for myself. My future is my responsibility The same way your family is your responsibility”
“I know. And I’m proud of you for being brave. I want you to chase your dreams too, Tae. I love you, after all. And I want the best for you”
Taehyung nodded. "You know...me going to New York...it really isn't something to think twice about. It's every art student's dream. But I keep thinking twice because of you. Because I love you and I want to be with you. I don't want to leave you right now. I really don't, Jeongguk. Not when you're going through all this and you're at your worst. I'm scared of the consequences of me leaving you. But I also want to go to New York. Since I want to live my dream. It has been my dream since I was like ten. And deep down I wish you'd come with me, even though I know we need time apart"
Jeongguk sighed. "I can't come with you. I talked to my lawyer after we broke up that day. He said that Jieun is right but the chances of our relationship getting exposed is rare. Especially your name. Jieun's lawyer could find out about you and decide to use you against me. And it would really be better if Jieun would decide to settle so none of this would happen. Until all of this settles down, and I take my divorce I would have to stay here, Tae"
Taehyung nodded. "Okay"
"I decided that I want to stay with Aria over here until she goes to college. I felt like it would be the best for her too. It’s not because of Jieun. I want it too. She’s my daughter and I want to be with her in the last two years of her life, of which she will be around us. So I can’t come with you to New York, even if I wanted to. I promised Jieun that I would do split parenting after the divorce too so... I'm sorry"
"I didn't really expect you to so...it's alright. I know you can't choose me over your family"
"They're still my children. I can't abandon them. But I love you, Tae. You're the love of my life. You know that, right?"
Taehyung sniffled. "Yeah. You're the love of my life too"
Jeongguk cupped Taehyung's face. "Don't cry now. You look adorable when you cry. Makes me want to kiss you"
"Then kiss me"
Taehyung raised his gaze to meet Jeongguk's glassy eyes, shining under the electric bulbs of the living room. He felt Jeongguk lean in; his lips lingered over his own as if the older man was hesitating. So Taehyung closed the gap between them.
Jeongguk's lips were hot but soft against Taehyung's cold ones. Taehyung pressed further, eager to taste Jeongguk at least once more. Before he leaves next Monday.
Jeongguk pressed his tongue against Taehyung's and the younger boy opened his mouth to let him in. Jeongguk tilted his head, kissing him deeper, and his tongue wildly exploring Taehyung's mouth. Jeongguk's hands were on Taehyung's hips, pulling him closer to himself, their clothed bodies pressed together. He could feel Jeongguk's-
Taehyung moaned.
Jeongguk drew away, eyes wide with surprise.
Taehyung blushed scarlet. "I...I...You're hard"
"So are you!"
Taehyung grinned.
Jeongguk grinned back, an adorable blush covering his cheeks.
"Do we have time for one last time?" Taehyung asked.
Jeongguk's smile faltered. "That hurts but yeah..."
"Fuck me on the kitchen counter then" Taehyung said, eyeing the kitchen.
Jeongguk grinned. "Fuck yeah" he pulled Taehyung towards himself and connected their lips in a hungry kiss. Taehyung pulled at his hair and was about to feel his cock up when the doorbell rang.
"Fuck" Jeongguk cursed in annoyance. "Who could it be at this time?"
Jeongguk walked towards the door and opened it. Taehyung walked towards the living room, so he wouldn't be seen. He could hear Jeongguk talking with someone outside. In a few moments, Jeongguk was walking towards Taehyung.
"It's the neighbor...she needs help with something. I'll be back in a few minutes. Take a seat, will you?"
"Yeah sure," Taehyung said, nodding. Taehyung sat down on a couch, looking around the living room as he waited. A few minutes later he heard the front door open again and Taehyung stood up, hoping that Jeongguk was back so they could continue where they left off.
But it wasn't who he wanted to see. His blood ran cold upon seeing who it was.
Aria Jeon.
The moment Aria saw Taehyung, her eyes widened, a look of disbelief portraying her face. Then her expression turned into one of anger.
"What the fuck are you doing in my house?"
"None of your business" Taehyung snapped. He had hoped he would never get to see Aria ever again. He hated her, especially after what she had done to him.
"Get the fuck out. You whore" Aria shouted.
Taehyung's eyes widened. "Your dad took me in. I'll leave when he tells me to"
Aria scoffed. "Came to scrape off some money from him, did you?"
"No I actually came here to fuck him" Taehyung flashed her a fake smile.
Aria's mouth fell. "How dare you! My father is married! He's my father! You're disgusting"
And I'm your half-brother
"It actually did cross my mind every time we fucked. I just thought it was really hot and badass that I was fucking my girlfriend's father. Kinky, right?"
Aria gasped. "You whore"
Taehyung smirked. Serves her right.
But he didn't see it coming. He saw a flash of skin and then a slap echoed through the house. Taehyung's right cheek was burning.
The fact that Aria had slapped him dawned on him and he saw red. "You bitch-"
Before Taehyung could sputter a string of curses, the front door opened again, and in came Jeongguk. He paused in the hallway, taking in the scene before him.
"What the hell is going on here?" Jeongguk asked.
"Dad, why is he here?" Aria asked.
"She slapped me!" Taehyung said.
"Why did you slap him?" Jeongguk asked Aria.
Aria scoffed. "He was saying disgusting things. And he's a whore"
"Aria shut up" Jeongguk's tone was annoyed. "Why are you back so early? You said you would be late"
"I can't come home when I want to, now? Were you going to fuck him when me and mom were away? Is that why you have him over?"
"Aria shut up" Jeongguk thundered.
"Didn't I already tell you? He was
just
about to fuck me. If you came in five minutes later, you could've enjoyed the show too" Taehyung smiled.
"Tae!" Jeongguk's face was red with anger. And this time it wasn't only directed at Aria.
"Both of you shut up. Aria, go to your room. Tae, come outside with me" Jeongguk said.
Taehyung scoffed, looking at Jeongguk. "Yeah, I was just leaving. See you never" Taehyung said to Aria and started to walk out.
"Tae, stop. I still need to talk to you" Jeongguk took hold of Taehyung's arm right before he reached the front door.
"Get out of our house and don't ever come back. You home wrecking whore" Aria shouted.
Taehyung paused.
His anger rose and he could feel himself losing his self-control by the second. He would not tolerate such insults from the person who almost raped him.
So he turned around, anger burning behind his eyelids. He shook off Jeongguk's hold off his arm and walked towards Aria.
"Listen here you rapist pussy ass bitch" Taehyung thundered.
Aria's eyes widened.
"Yeah, I fucked your dad. What are you going to do about it, huh? Cry about it? Stupid bitch. I'll fuck your mom if I want to. If your dad marries me I'll become your fucking stepdad and ground your ass for weeks"
Taehyung saw Aria tearing up and he walked towards Jeongguk, who looked speechless.
"You're the only whore in here. The whore who doesn’t even know basic consent. The desperate bitch who was begging for my dick" Taehyung said to her.
He marched to Jeongguk, wrapped his hand around the older man's throat, and slammed his lips against Jeongguk’s.
Jeongguk squeaked in surprise but couldn't pull away because of Taehyung's grip on his neck. Taehyung opened his mouth and for a split second, so did Jeongguk, letting Taehyung thrash his tongue into his mouth, kissing him deeper and harder.
Taehyung really wouldn't mind getting fucked by Jeongguk right then and there, in front of Aria just to leave her traumatized the way she left him.
The thought lingered on his mind for longer than it should've and Taehyung was so lost in the kiss that neither of them heard the front door opening.
Someone gasped.
Taehyung pulled away in an instant, his whole body burning with embarrassment upon seeing who stood by the entrance of the house, face portraying absolute horror.
Taehyung took a step back. He didn't know what to say or do other than hide his face.
"What the hell is going on here?!" Jieun screamed. She was shooting daggers at Taehyung with her eyes.
"Jieun..." Jeongguk said, stepping in front of Taehyung and hiding him behind himself.
"Jeongguk what is this? How dare you let him into our house?!"
"He just came here to talk with me," Jeongguk said. He sounded calm but his ears and face were red. "He was just leaving"
"I..." Jieun still looked traumatized. "Get out of my house," Jieun told Taehyung.
"I'm sorry, ma'am" Taehyung stuttered out.
"Let's go" Jeongguk said, taking Taehyung's hand in his and starting to walk towards the front door.
"You're such an ungrateful person, do you know?" Jieun said just as Taehyung started to walk, making him halt in his steps.
Taehyung raised his gaze towards hers.
"I let you stay here for months and fed you and this is how you repay my kindness? By fucking my husband?'
"Jieun please..." Jeongguk tried.
"I never thought you were such a...disgusting person"
Taehyung stayed silent.
"It's not his fault, Jieun. I brought him here and I...was having an affair with him before I brought him to our house. I know it was wrong of me to do that but I only let him stay here because he didn't have anywhere else to go"
Jieun scoffed. "He's still a homewrecker"
"Ma'am" Taehyung said. "I'm sorry but don't act like you didn't destroy Jeongguk's whole life"
Jieun's eyes widened. "W-what?!"
"You can't really blame him. He was just trying to get back what he missed in his younger days. The very thing you deprived him of. And you can't really blame me for giving it to him. He deserved someone who knows how to fuck him good"
"You-"
"You're just as evil as he is...if not more" Taehyung said and dragged Jeongguk out of the house, leaving Jieun burning with anger.
Jeongguk followed him outside and the moment the door closed behind him, the younger boy pushed the older man against the wall and kissed him.
Jeongguk kissed back eagerly, grinning into the kiss. When they pulled away, both of them were smiling like fools.
"Wow that was...wow" Jeongguk said, doe eyes glinting.
"I'm not sorry"
"Jieun deserved it" Jeongguk whispered. "I'm not happy with what you said to Aria though. But she deserved it for what she did to you"
"No wonder she's not your daughter"
Jeongguk chuckled. "God, I love you so much. I love that spice and sass you have"
Taehyung grinned. "I love you too daddy"
Jeongguk bit his lip. "Wish you could call me what while I fuck you"
Taehyung's smile faltered. "I'm leaving next Monday. And I won't be coming to classes because I already applied for resignation. The interviews are starting in two weeks so I'll be staying with my mom until then...I haven't met her in ages so I can't wait to meet her"
"Did you find a good place to stay when you enrolled?"
"Not yet. But my mom said we could find one when I arrive in New York. I'm really excited, Jeongguk. This is a dream come true"
Jeongguk smiled, but there was sadness glinting in his eyes as he reached out to touch Taehyung's cheek. "I'm happy for you. I really am. And I'm so fucking proud of you for getting selected. And I'm so proud of you for taking this decision to leave me. Because I know it's not easy. It must've taken a lot of strength. I could've never been that strong"
"I don't want to leave you but I want to-"
"I know, baby. I know. And it's alright. I thought about the things you told me and you're right. I need to get that divorce and find myself all over again. We both need to grow. I don't want to let you go but I'm sure I will be fine as long as you are"
"Jeongguk..."
"I'll try to be happy as long as you are. So be happy in New York for me, hmm?"
Taehyung nodded, tears cascading down his cheeks. Jeongguk smiled sadly at him. He wiped away Taehyung's tears with the pads of his thumb.
"Maybe..." Taehyung sniffled. "Maybe our paths will cross in the future and if it does, we would have become so much different from who we are today. Let's grow and mature separately, independently so maybe if we meet in the future, we would be able to maintain a healthy relationship in a healthy background"
Jeongguk smiled. "Of course. We would've become different people in the future. I hope to meet you again"
Taehyung smiled and cupped Jeongguk's face.
"I really wanted to go with you and I would've...maybe if I wasn't going to have another child"
Taehyung nodded. "I understand you"
"I love you, Taehyung. And I always will"
"I love you too" Taehyung smiled at him, tears brimming his eyes. He planted a quick kiss atop Jeongguk's lips and turned around, walking away from Jeongguk as tears cascaded down his cheeks.
He didn't dare look back once.
"Oh I'm going to miss you, my child! You were one of the most peaceful kids who had stayed here" Mrs. Hooper said as she squeezed Taehyung in a bear hug.
"I will miss you too, Mrs. Hooper. Thank you for treating me so well. I can never repay you enough" Taehyung said as he pecked the older woman's forehead. She smelled like cookies, like she always did. And as much as Taehyung didn't want to admit, he would miss her love and care.
The old woman finally drew away and Taehyung smiled at her. The day had finally come. The day he was leaving for New York. His flight was in five hours. His friends were coming to pick him up and drive him to the airport so they could bid goodbye to each other one last time.
"You know Mrs. Hooper..." Taehyung said as he walked towards the front door with his suitcases. "That guy I had over...my friend...he was my boyfriend"
"Jeongguk? Oh, I knew that! I knew the moment he started telling me about you. The way he looked at you. He was surely in love with you. It was so obvious"
"Oh" Taehyung said, surprised. "I didn't think..."
"Well I've lived eighty years on this earth and I've seen my fair share of people. That's enough to read someone in and out"
"You weren't mad that I was having him over?"
"No! Of course not. He was a sweet man. And you guys didn't make much noise. I had two girls stay here last year and they were so loud in the night time if you know what I mean"
Taehyung blushed. "We...I'm sorry for not telling you earlier"
"You must've thought I was not supportive. But I am. I just don't care, darling. Now go on about your way before you get late. Safe travels, my child"
"Thank you, Mrs. Hooper. I will never forget your kindness" Taehyung said, bidding goodbye to the granny. He stepped out, only to see Hoseok's old car outside the house.
Waving at Mrs. Hooper one last time, he got inside the car and they drove away.
"Why are you staying home today?" Jieun's voice made Jeongguk snap out of his trail of thoughts.
"Oh, the students are having their sports festival today. I'm not going" Jeongguk said, looking at Jieun who had a load of files in her hands. "Aren't you going?"
"I'm going in the afternoon...I have some work to do from home" She said as she walked to the study.
Since the ruckus with Taehyung that happened almost a week ago, Jieun had been treating Jeongguk differently. She hadn't talked about the divorce and about anything, for that matter. They barely talked at all. And since Jeongguk slept in a separate room, other than at breakfast and sometimes dinner where the three of them sat together, they didn't talk at all. Seeing Taehyung and Jeongguk kissing must've had an effect on her. Jeongguk just wasn't sure if it was good or bad.
Jeongguk took out his phone and checked the time. 10.23 a.m. Taehyung would be leaving in five hours.
He sighed and pushed his phone to his pocket. He went upstairs to change into jeans to drive to the grocery store to get himself alcohol. He had finished up all the bottles he had at home in the last few weeks after he and Taehyung broke up. And today, he really needed it.
Jeongguk skipped downstairs and was about to head outside when he heard a sound. He halted in his steps, confused as to what it might be.
Then it came again. A moan of pain.
His heart started racing wildly in his chest. It must be Jieun. It was only them inside the house. He ran to the study and barged in.
He saw Jieun sitting at her desk, leaning back on the chair as she held her belly in her hands. Her face was scrunched with pain.
"H-hey what's wrong?" Jeongguk asked, fear lacing every word.
Jieun opened her eyes. "H-hurts"
"Where?" Jeongguk asked. Jieun touched the lower part of her baby bump.
"It feels weird," Jieun said. Jeongguk could see that her whole face was sweaty. This isn't good.
"Hey, let's go to the hospital," Jeongguk said. "Come on"
Jeongguk helped her sit up and just as she stood up, she screamed.
Jeongguk looked at her, horrified. "Wha-"
And then he saw it.
Blood was gushing down her thighs, soaking her clothes and the floor beneath her.
"Oh my fucking god. Come on. Let's go to the hospital" Jeongguk said and picked Jieun up, only for another scream to escape her and more blood gushed down her thighs.
Jeongguk placed Jieun on her back and started calling an ambulance.
"The ambulance will be here soon. Just hold on. Please" Jeongguk said, stroking her head as she screamed in pain.
"What's happening to me?!" She sobbed.
"It'll be fine," Jeongguk said. But he wasn't sure if that was the truth.
When the ambulance arrived and took her to the hospital, and Jeongguk followed the vehicle with his car, he thought he would go crazy from all the stress. When the nurses started piling up and taking her inside the hospital and Jeongguk put his head on his hands, something told him that not everything is going to be fine.
He didn't know how long it took for the doctors and nurses to come out of the room Jieun was taken to but when they did, they didn't look happy.
"Mr. Jeon?" The lady doctor said, making Jeongguk walk towards her.
"Yes? Is my wife okay? What happened to her?"
"Her condition is stable...but..."
"But?" Jeongguk asked. Fear bubbled in his chest.
"She was having a miscarriage"
Jeongguk felt his stomach drop. "What?" He whispered.
"The baby...isn't alive anymore. I'm sorry, Mr. Jeon. But Mrs. Jeon could've been in danger too. But fortunately, we were able to make her condition stable. We couldn't save the baby"
Jeongguk stared at her, horrified. "What...what could've caused it?"
"There could be many causes but since she had had healthy childbirth before, we aren't so sure. But if she was facing a huge amount of stress recently, that could cause complications in her hormones. We would have to look more into it if we want to find out the exact cause. But I'm not sure if your wife would want that..."
"I understand," Jeongguk said, thinking about all the things she had done had gone through in the past few weeks. "Will she be alright?"
"She will. She is asleep now since we have medicated her. She will be out for a few hours. You can visit her after she wakes up"
"Thank you," Jeongguk said, voice breaking. He was relieved to hear that. The doctor walked away, shooting him an apologetic look.
Heart beating wildly in his chest, he sank into the metal seat of the hospital chair outside the hospital room. He couldn't believe what he had just heard.
However, as war raged in his mind, amidst the clatter of hopes and dreams falling against the bare, dry ground of his heart, the word "
Miscarriage
" that rang in his ears was like rain to his desert of a heart.
And he sighed, as wrong as it felt, as the doctor's words played in his mind over and over again, like a broken record, all he could feel was absolute, terrifying...
...
Relief.
So Jeongguk bolted up and ran. He could not be late. If he drove fast enough, he could catch Taehyung before he left. He ran to his car and drove into the road instantly, heading to the airport.
Anxiety swelling up in his stomach, he drove as fast as he could, ignoring the angry honk of cars as he drove carelessly past them.
When he meets Taehyung he will tell him that he could go with him. That he no longer needs to be the parent of the new baby. That the responsibility is off his shoulders and that there's no reason not to divorce Jieun now and live separately. He will tell him that they could move in together and that he could convince Aria that he needs to go to New York. He will tell Taehyung that Aria is old enough now and that she would be okay without him. And that there's no reason to not get back with Taehyung.
He would tell him that they could be together, after all the things they've been through. Now, the biggest burden was off his shoulders.
Jeongguk didn't know how long it took for him to get to the airport. But the moment he arrived, he parked the car and ran towards the entrance. He looked around quickly before running inside. He took hurried steps into the vast airport, looking around like a maniac in search of a blond head. He walked further inside, towards the lines of people who were lined up to register their baggage. He looked at each and every one of them, gaze flickering from one person to another as fast as his mind could register information. And Taehyung was nowhere to be found. Had he already gone inside? Had he already boarded the plane? Had he-
Then Jeongguk saw him.
Dyed blond hair, sharp jaw, round cheeks, and shining chocolate eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. Jeongguk's lips stretched into a grin and his heart bubbled with happiness as he saw Taehyung.
But his smile faltered a little upon seeing him talking to someone he had never seen before. Taehyung was laughing at something the other boy had said, eyes forming crescents as he did. Nevertheless, Jeongguk started sprinting towards the place Taehyung stood.
"Taehyung!" He called.
Taehyung's smile disappeared, as he looked around the vast space, eyes darting from person to person to see who had called his name. Until they landed on Jeongguk, who was running towards him.
"Jeongguk!" Taehyung shouted. He dropped the backpack he was holding and ran to Jeongguk.
Jeongguk spread his arms and Taehyung jumped onto his embrace, making him stumble back with the force.
"Oh my god I didn't think I would see you again," Taehyung said, breathlessly.
"Oh Tae"
"I didn't think you would come," Taehyung said, grinning, as he pulled away. "I'm so glad that you did"
"I wanted to see you"
"My flight is in around two hours. Jimin and the others left like one hour ago but we were in the line for a long time and I was just about to go inside. You came just in time" Taehyung said. "Oh and I found a new friend! He's going to New York too!" Taehyung said, pointing at the other male he was talking to earlier, who was paying no attention to them now.
"He was selected for the art academy too! Oh my god I can't believe I already made a friend" Taehyung blabbered.
Jeongguk's heart ached but he smiled. "I'm happy about that"
"Me too," he grinned.
"Thank you for coming," Taehyung said. "What if I never see you again?"
Jeongguk smiled at him. He wanted to tell him that this is not the last time Taehyung will see him. That Jeongguk will come to New York soon too. But...
"I wanted to see you off," Jeongguk said.
Taehyung wrapped his arms around Jeongguk again. "I really hope you would be alright"
"I would," Jeongguk whispered. He tried his best to keep his tears at bay. "I promise"
"You know Jeongguk...if we meet in the future, we would've changed so much. And I really hope we would meet"
Jeongguk smiled. The sob that threatened to escape his throat faltered his smile. "Me too"
Jeongguk couldn't help it. Taehyung looked happy. Truly happy. And when he starts a new life in New York, away from all the bullshit and drama he got in the middle of because of Jeongguk, he would be happier. New York is a new beginning for Taehyung. New York was his future.
If Jeongguk follows him there, Taehyung would be stuck with his past. He would not be able to move on and start his life anew. He would not be able to live his life without a leash tugging him back if Jeongguk followed him. Taehyung needs a fresh start. Away from Jeongguk.
And so does Jeongguk.
If Jeongguk follows him there, he would stay as a living breathing reminder of what Taehyung used to be and what he had gone through here. And that would only be a burden on his shoulders. Something that would prevent him from becoming a new person, the way he's meant to be.
It's best that Jeongguk let him go. For both their sakes.
Jeongguk took a deep breath. "If we were destined to be, if we are each other's true love, I'm sure we will meet again. We will find ourselves back together. If we don't, it's still going to be the best for us"
Taehyung smiled. "Yeah. I just hope we will meet though. That we would find our way back to each other. I really hope so"
"Me too," Jeongguk said. "I love you, Taehyung"
"I love you too, Jeongguk. Don't ever forget me"
"Forget you? I would forget my own name before I forget you. You are my home, Tae. My happiness. You made me live my life and showed me that life was meant to be lived. Not just exist, like I used to before I met you"
"Oh Gguk" Taehyung's eyes brimmed with tears.
"I will remember the things you taught me for the rest of my life, my love. You will always be in my heart, wherever you are"
"So will you," Taehyung said. "Gguk you know, I didn't fall in love with you. I walked into it. I was aware of each step I took and loved every step I took towards you"
"Tae" Jeongguk smiled at him. "I think I did too. I never intended to fall for you. But you're so hard to not fall in love with, my love. And I'm glad I did. You're the best thing that happened to me"
Taehyung sniffled as he smiled. "But I need you to move on from me"
Jeongguk smiled through the tears. "I want that for you too"
"Let's not wait for each other"
Jeongguk nodded. A stray tear trailed down his cheek. "Let's give other people some space in our heart too"
"Yeah," Taehyung said, smiling. A thousand emotions swirled in his chocolate orbs. The emotions made their way in the form of tears down his cheeks.
Jeongguk wiped his tears with the pads of his thumb. "Great things await you there. A great future. I wish you all the best. You're strong and you will make it. I will always support you from afar. I will always love you. So forget your past and start a new life. Don't go back to any of your old ways, hmm?"
Taehyung nodded, sniffling. "Okay"
"And be careful. New York is different from here"
"I will," Taehyung whispered. "You should get that divorce as soon as possible and move out, okay? You can still take care of Aria that way so just move on from Jieun. And find yourself. Start doing things for yourself. When you're out of that marriage, you're a free man. And you're young so you can do whatever you want"
Jeongguk nodded. "I won't disappoint you. I will focus on myself"
"Good" Taehyung whispered.
"Taehyung! Taehyung's friend called as he approached them. "The other guys who were on our plane started going inside. We should go with them"
"Oh okay. I'll come. Give me a minute" Taehyung told him and faced Jeongguk again.
"I should get going," Taehyung said to Jeongguk.
"Hope you get there safely. Be careful, okay?" Jeongguk said.
"I will. Please be happy"
"I will," Jeongguk said and cupped Taehyung's face. He pressed his lips against Taehyung's. Taehyung tasted the same way he tasted the first day Jeongguk kissed him. He was sweet as honey and left Jeongguk starving for more taste.
When they pulled away, Taehyung smiled at him as he took a step back. "Goodbye, Jeongguk"
Jeongguk smiled at him sadly.
"Goodbye Taehyung"
|
TWENTY ONE
Sokka was crying. He wasn’t really sure why. He wasn’t even sad, he was more… seething. Practically livid. It had started raining on his way home; Haru being kind enough to drop him back after he had successfully bloodied up his fist and dispersed some of the hostility he felt. So now he was wet, sore, covered in blood, crying, and more frenzied than he’d ever felt before. It was not a sight for sore eyes. His empty, cold dorm didn’t seem to remedy much either, rather, send him spiralling further into unchecked rage.
Sokka found himself pacing through their living room, hands clenched by his side, face twisting with incandescent wrath. This was, notably, one of the few times he’d ever been so infuriated that he’d cried. The other, being when his mum had passed away and he locked himself in his room for three days and didn’t talk to anyone. That time he knew where to direct his anger. He was mad at the world for taking away one of the few people he truly cherished. And he took it out on the world by holing himself up and not talking to the people around him. But this time, Sokka was having trouble placing his anger. Part of him was mad at Jet, for stirring up more unnecessary bullshit, part of it was Zuko, for being stupid enough to indulge him, but a fair bit of it was at himself.
He couldn’t tell how many times he’d said to Zuko that he’d be there to help when Jet reared his head again, or how many times he’d made Zuko promise to ask for help. He was particularly frustrated and more so disappointed in himself for not being there the one and only time Zuko had tried to reach out. He wanted to rip his hair out because in a moment of weakness Zuko had caved and gone back to Jet and Sokka wasn’t there to help and… who knows what Jet was doing? Who knows what he’d already done? Zuko’s equivocal hinting at what Jet was possibly doing made Sokka’s stomach lurch because it was one thing to hurt him physically, but he had a sick feeling that that wasn’t all Jet was capable of. He knew what type of relationship Zuko had with Jet and he knew that one could blow off steam in more ways than one. Sokka’s master detection skills had deduced that those hickeys Zuko came home with weren’t from some random guy.
That thought alone made Sokka burn with a whole new type of fire he’d never believed possible. His jaw was beginning to ache with all of the clenching and unclenching. His whole body felt taut and his head was pounding. It was all too much.
Sokka bit his tongue in shock when it vibrated in his jean pocket. He stared at the clock hanging by their kitchen. 11:38 pm. The only people who would ever call him this late were Katara and… Zuko. Sokka scrambled for his phone, almost dropping it against the wood flooring as he went. And yeah, sure enough, the worst photo of Zuko ever lit up his screen and Sokka almost thanked the heavens. He swiped the call button.
“Hey! Zuko,” he breathed, eyes falling shut as he heard a sigh through the speaker.
“Sokka. I didn’t think you’d answer,” Zuko mumbled. Sokka could swear he heard a door opening and closing in the background.
“Course I would,” Sokka replied meekly, chewing on the inside of his lip. “I—I’m sorry about before, I shouldn’t have had my phone—”
“‘S fine, don’t worry about it. Class takes priority, Sokka,” Zuko assured, his voice a fraction louder than before. Sokka’s insides were so close to erupting.
“Still… I made a promise.” Zuko sighed.
“Well you answered now, didn’t you? You kept it,” Zuko laughed softly and Sokka swore his heart leapt out of his throat.
Fuck the anger, fuck the negativity, he didn’t care anymore. Sokka smiled.
“Guess so. Why’d you call? Aren’t you at Jet’s still?”
“Uh, no. Toph called me an uber like… an hour ago maybe. I just… didn’t think I wanted to go back home but… now I kind of regret it,” Zuko mumbled.
Sokka bit his lip to fight back a grin.
“Oh, you so you called because you miss me, huh?” He teased, cheeks flushing when he heard Zuko’s pinched groan.
“God, I wish I didn’t,” he muttered. “But yes. I called you because I miss you and I felt bad about earlier. Go ahead, laugh it up.”
Sokka’s heart clenched. “That’s cute.”
Zuko scoffed.
“No really. You’re…” Sokka paused. He scrunched his nose and opened his mouth before he could question his actions. “You’re cute. As hell.”
The line fell silent. Sokka was about to hang up and throw his phone across the room when he heard Zuko laughing softly.
“I—Thank you,” he whispered. “You… you’re pretty cute too.”
Sokka couldn’t hold back his grin any longer. His free hand fell lax at his side. The pounding in his head subsided to a dull thud. His mouth no longer tasted like ash and blood. Instead, his stomach grew warm and his skin felt fuzzy and god Sokka had never been reduced to mush from just one awkward compliment.
“Anything in particular you want to talk about? Or is just the sound of my voice appealing enough?” He teased, relishing in the quiet snort Zuko gave in return.
“I’m swooning,” Zuko mumbled, laced with sarcasm, but Sokka could hear the smile around his words, and god what he would give to see that smile right then and there.
“I tend to have that effect. What did you do today? Did you have class?” Sokka wandered to the windowsill near their dining table and rested his head against the cold glass.
“Mhm. I had to hand in this prose I did, but it was super shitty so I’m not sure how I’ll go,” Zuko replied softly, voice trailing off towards the end.
Sokka smiled. “I’m sure you did fine. Not gonna lie, I read a bit of it ‘cause you left your laptop open and it was really good. I mean, if that was the one you were finishing yesterday.”
“You read it?” Zuko sounded nervous. Sokka bit his lip, a frown taking the place of his grin.
“Uh… yeah. Sorry, I should have asked. Or, y’know, just not read it but… I was curious. Sorry.”
“It’s… okay. It was just… kind of embarrassing, what I wrote about. I guess,” Zuko laughed, a strain obvious in his tone.
Sokka couldn’t help but laugh too. “Yeah, I kind of related a lot to one of the characters. Did you take inspiration from my thrilling life, Zuko?”
“W—What? Uhm, no. What a weird coincidence, hey?” He sputtered. Sokka’s chest ached.
God if only Zuko were here. If only he hadn’t scared him off and he came home, and they could be together and Sokka would make him forget all about Jet. He could hug him or put his arm over his shoulder as they watched a movie or they could just sit together and talk and wow, Sokka thought, I really love this kid.
“A wonder only the gods can answer,” Sokka replied clicking his tongue. “When are you coming back tomorrow? I can pick you up if you want.”
“That would be… nice. Thank you, Sokka,” Zuko said quietly.
Sokka felt a flush burn across his cheeks and down his neck. “No problem. Do you… um, would you like to get breakfast tomorrow morning? Like… the two of us?”
The line fell silent once more. Sokka chewed on the inside of his mouth, his brows pulling down.
Finally, Zuko sighed. “Are you asking me on a date?”
Sokka’s heart stuttered in his chest. “U—Uh, no? I mean, kinda? Wait, um, only if you want to… we don’t… have to.”
“Sokka,” Zuko sighed again. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “I can’t… Haru is… J—Jet just—”
“Oh.” Sokka’s stomach dropped. He gripped the phone in his hand and screwed up his face. “Never mind then. I’ll pick you up at 10. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“Sokka, wait that’s not—” Sokka hung up.
He opened his messages and immediately searched for Haru’s name.
Youassholeyou piece of shit i hate you(12:02 am)
Haruvalidwhat happened?(12:04 am)
Youyou need to talk to Zuko tomorrow. no excuses.(12:04 am)
Harucan do. want to tell me what happened?(12:05 am)
Youno fuck you. just talk to him. (12:06 am)
Sokka turned off his phone, ignoring the new message coming through and ran his hand over his face. God, why did he have to be so stupid all of the time? Why did he lose all of his brain cells whenever Zuko even breathed near him? Why did he have to say stupid things and ruin his night? He was having a perfectly nice conversation with Zuko. Zuko missed him and called him and for once in almost two months, he wanted to talk to Sokka. But of course, he got carried away and said something stupid and Zuko rejected him again. Because of course. Of course, this would happen. Of course, the universe said no to him once again, because what’s just one more time? At this point, Sokka was praying that Toph and Suki knew what they were doing because there was no way in hell, he could figure this out without them. There was no chance in his mind that he and Zuko would ever end up together.
That made Sokka’s stomach sink to his knees. It made his whole body feel shaky and off-kilter. It made his head swim. He would definitely not let that happen. He would definitely not settle for second best. He couldn’t exist next to Zuko as a friend for much longer. He was going to make Zuko fall in love with him.
. . . .
Zuko almost dropped his phone when he heard the dial tone click. His mouth ran dry. Shit. Shit. That was not what was supposed to happen. That wasn’t what he meant. Fuck.
Zuko blinked back the sting in his eyes and sat down on the spare bed in Toph and Suki’s flat. He rested his head in his hands and sighed. How did he manage to screw up such a good opportunity? Why didn’t he just say yes? Why did he have to freak out and make excuses?
Zuko’s heart pounded against his rib cage. He wanted an opportunity for him to show just how much he liked Sokka. He wanted to give Sokka a chance to express himself properly. He wanted a sign of just how much Sokka actually did like him. But he fucked it up. He pushed him away. He made some bullshit excuse that made him seem like an asshole.
Zuko whimpered, biting down on his lip in a fruitless attempt to quell his tears. Why? Why? Why did he always do this? Why couldn’t he just trust Sokka? What was so wrong in his head? Why did Sokka and love not fit in the same sentence? Zuko was almost certain his feelings for Sokka were pushing what one could label like, overlapping into what most would describe love. He knew how Sokka felt about him but there was a nagging hole in the bottom of his stomach that reared its head whenever he thought about it. The darkest part of his mind would repeat over and over that there was no way in all of the earth that Sokka would ever like someone like him, let alone love. There was no way. It didn’t make sense.
Sokka was charming and pretty and he was gentle. Zuko was angry and bitter and he pushed people to the point of violence. It always happened. He would always go too far and say the wrong thing. He would always jump to anger and resort to violence because he just couldn’t express himself with words. There’s no way Sokka could ever love someone like that. He loved Suki. That made sense. Suki was cute and kind and she was smart and did chemistry and was everything Zuko could never be. He wasn’t smart. His father made sure he knew that. Arts courses never had a place in his home. Even Azula, who took accelerated university courses, chose physics. Something Sokka liked. Something he couldn’t do.
Zuko sniffled and wiped at his eyes with his sleeves. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. Sokka was everything he ever wanted but he was too gross and stupid and mean to ever be able to have it. He was stupid enough to believe Sokka. He wanted to believe him still, but it didn’t make any sense. It was a wild shot that Sokka still talked to him. After all the yelling and insulting and anger Zuko had thrown at him, Sokka was still there. He took it all in stride and still smiled at him and talked to him and cared about him. It wasn’t fair.
Zuko was selfish for keeping Sokka around. He had to tell him to stop. He had to push him away for good. Of course, Sokka wouldn’t like him. Who would? Haru was lying to him. Jet was lying to him. Jet, of all people, the one person who promised to love him forever. Jet was sick of him. Zuko could tell. He wouldn’t whisper sweet things to him as Zuko let him have his way. He wouldn’t kiss him or hug the way he used to. If Zuko wasn’t even good enough for Jet, then who else? Who was left to love him? No matter what, Zuko wouldn’t let it be Sokka. No matter how much he wanted it, he couldn’t burden Sokka with that. He couldn’t let himself ruin one of the best friendships he’d made in a long while.
Zuko lay back against the mattress. He pulled out his phone and typed out a message.
Youhey sokka. i’m sorry about before. i’m sorry for making excuses.you don’t deserve someone who does that to you. i appreciate everything you’ve done for me but i think it would be best if i get a new roommate. this isn’t your fault. i’m sorry.(12:14 am)
Zuko’s bottom lip wobbled. Sokka’s text bubble popped up and he cringed, shutting his eyes and throwing his phone beside him. He ignored the three times Sokka tried to call him. He fell asleep with stinging eyes and a heavy heart. He missed the frantic texts Sokka had sent him.
why am i one of ur only contacts, get some friends ZukoZuko????what do you mean??? is everything ok???its ok if you like haru i don’t mind just please don’t move out(12:17 am)
Zuko please don’t move out i need youplease im sorry i wont do it againi get the hint its ok please(12:19 am)
I’m sorry. (12:22 am) |
When Chat Noir first suggested that Ladybug give Marinette the mouse miraculous permanently, she thought it was a joke or something.
The universe had to be playing a prank on her, right?
"...Look, I know she revealed her identity, but that was just to me. I can keep a secret."
Ladybug sighed. "Chat, you know the rules."
"You let Chloé keep her miraculous."
"That's different."
"Is it?"
"Well, yeah." Ladybug crossed her arms. For one thing, Marinette already had a miraculous. It was literally impossible for her to be Ladybug and Multimouse at the same time, (at least without the help of Trixx).
"Maybe the mouse miraculous isn't right for her, but I think she's right for this team."
"Chat, that's sweet, but-" Ladybug didn't know what to say.
"But what? You're the guardian. You make the rules now."
"I'm not giving Marinette a miraculous."
...
The next time he brought it up, it was probably Ladybug's fault.
She started the conversation, after all. "I think we need to build up the team, and I want you to have some input."
"You want my input?" He looked surprised, as if she operated solo. They were a team.
"Of course. We're partners. I was thinking that we should make Aspik a full time hero, but after the egg incident," they both shuddered, "that is completely up for debate."
"I can't work with Aspik." Chat shrugged. "If we want the snake miraculous, you could consider making Viperion a full time hero-"
"I thought about that, but he's busy, with university."
Chat jumped up. "Well, we could always bring in Multimouse."
Ladybug tried to shut that idea down immediately. "No. We can't."
"Why not?"
"Why?"
"Marinette is amazing. She's brave. She stands up to bullies and that one time she was Multimouse, it was so badass. And with Evillustrator? She's an icon."
"Whoa. I didn't realize you admired her so much."
"She's incredible."
"Okay."
"I mean. She's got it all. Brains, brawns, beauty, baking. She's my ideal woman."
"What?"
"What?"
"Chat," Ladybug blushed, "do you have a crush on Marinette?"
"Huh." He blinked. "Maybe I do."
"Well, I still don't think we can-"
"She's literally perfect for this Ladybug. Believe me. I've thought about this a lot."
"I'm sure you have...."
"Don't you trust me?"
"Of course I-" Ladybug shook her head. "Is that what this is about? You think I don't trust you?"
"Well, kinda."
"Chat." She placed an arm on his shoulder. "Of course I trust you. If you had literally any other person then I would allow it."
"So it's not me, you have some problem with Marinette?"
"You could say that."
"What is it? Ladybug, other than you, Marinette is literally my favorite person. She may be clumsy, but she's kind and smart."
"Its. Its personal." Ladybug sighed. "We can give anyone else a Miraculous."
"Nino Lahiffe?"
"Uhhh-"
"Alya Cesaire?"
"I-" its not like she could just expose all of the other heroes, right? Or did he have a right to know?
It was definitely some tricky territory she was in.
"What?" Chat crossed his arms. "You have problems with them too?"
"No. No, not at all." Ladybug waved her arms. "I just know Alya is busy with the Ladyblog, and Nino is always working on music-"
"I'm sure if we asked them-"
"I just don't want to be a burden."
"What if we give Lila a miraculous."
Ladybug blinked. "That... that was a joke, right?"
"Yeah. Eww. Can you imagine Lila with a miraculous?"
"She'd be worse than Chloé was at first."
Ladybug thought the conversation was over.
...
The next time it was brought up was with the whole team.
Chat, Rena, Carapace and Queen Bee were all trying to convince Ladybug to give herself a miraculous.
And she didn't know how to say no.
"I'm just saying," she pointed out, "Marinette is pretty clumsy."
"If you got to know her," Chloé (Queen Bee) shrugged, "you'd know how careful she is."
"I thought you hated Marinette?" Everyone turned to Chloé.
"Don't ever tell her this, she'd get a big head. I have mad respect for her. She's nice, even when she hates someone. And, as annoying as it is, she always speaks up for what she thinks is right."
"But she's clumsy."
"Actually," Chat Noir spoke up, "when we fought Evillustrator, she didn't trip over anything."
"Yeah, she's only clumsy when she's nervous. Usually that girl has some mad attention to detail."
"She's a totally awesome dudette."
"Honestly, its ridiculous that she hasn't already-"
Ladybug snapped to get their attention. "Guys, I get that you all like Marinette, but she can't have a miraculous."
"Why not?"
"Just,"Ladybug crossed her arms. "For personal reasons, I will not be giving Marinette a miraculous."
That was the end of conversation.
Except it wasn't.
Ladybug briefly considered asking Rena to make an illusion of Multimouse, just once to make Chat happy, but decided that wasn't the best idea.
Especially after Rena had tried to make an illusion of Aspik, and it had gone a little (aka a lot) haywire.
Ladybug really didn't need to see herself explode, it was terrifying enough to see someone else dissolve into an egg yolk.
...
The next time it was brought up was in school.
Alya just looked at Marinette. "What do you think of Ladybug?"
Marinette was caught off-guard. "I think she's a hero."
"Yeah, but you're more of a Chat Noir person, right?"
"I just think he doesn't get enough recognition."
"And you aren't a fan of Ladynoir."
"It'll happen if it happens. We shouldn't push people into relationships."
"Well, Ladybug would disagree."
"What do you mean?"
"Ladybug locked me in a cage with Nino. That's how we got together."
"Oh..right. of course she did." Marinette facepalmed.
"What is that supposed t o mean?"
"I don't know. I just think that Ladybug might be a little overhyped."
"Girl, she needs more hype."
"If you say do."
...
Marinette had similar conversations with Adrien and Nino, where Adrien practically confessed his love for Ladybug and Nino called her a "cool dudette," before having a talk with Chloe.
Chloe sat down next to Marinette in the library. "Marinette, you're like, kinda gay, right?"
Marinette set down the book she was reading. "Bi, but continue."
"How did you know?"
"Me?"
"Yeah. What made you realize?"
"Are you asking me for advice?"
"Yeah, but don't let it go to your head."
"Wow." Marinette scratched the back of her neck. "I think I always kinda knew. I mean, guys are hot, but girls are pretty, you know?"
"Yeah. I know what you mean." Chloe winked. "I realized I liked girls the first time I saw Ladybug."
Marinette choked on her water. "Ladybug?"
"Yeah. She's pretty hot, right?"
"Maybe? She's not my type."
"She's Ladybug. She's everyone's type, like Zendaya."
"I don't-"
"You can't tell me you've never thought about what it would be like to date Ladybug."
Marinette deadpanned. "I can honestly say I've never considered it." The universe had to be messing with her. That was the only explanation.
"Not once?" Chloe looked taken aback. "I'm sure if you got to know her-"
"Never. I have thought about Chat Noir-"
"We're talking about Ladybug."
"I thought we were talking about my bi-wakening?"
"Same thing."
"Its really not." Marinette mumbled.
...
Back and forth, for weeks.
Alya would say something, as Marinette's best friend.
Nino would agree.
Chloé would also agree.
It was unending.
Chat would say something about Marinette, and then Adrien would say a similar thing about Ladybug.
That one didn't make sense. At least the others were actually members of the team. Adrien, apparently, just really liked Ladybug.
...
The rest of the team was convinced that Ladybug and Marinette were bigger rivals. Or enemies for some reason.
She had heard a few ideas, about why.
But honestly, it wasn't until Marinette caught Alya writing fan fiction that she broke.
"What is this?" She snatched Alya's phone out of her hands.
"Its-" Alya at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "Can I lie?"
"No. I can read."
"Fine. Its a slowburn, enemies to lovers."
"Alya I don't speak writer."
"Its a fanfic about you and Ladybug."
"What?"
"I know you guys like hate each other, but if you got to know each other, you'd be great together."
Marinette lost it.
"Sorry." Alya was red. "I shouldn't have written it."
Marinette was still laughing.
"I Won't do it again."
Finally, Marinette regained her ability to breathe. "You think I hate Ladybug?"
"Yeah. That's why she won't give you a miraculous."
"Alya."
"What?"
"Ladybug won't give me a miraculous because I am Ladybug."
You could've heard a pen drop.
Chloé stared. "You better say 'psych' right now."
"Its not a joke."
"I love you m'lady. And I love Marinette." Adrien turned around and gave her a lovesick smile. "I'm so glad that you don't hate yourself."
|
Lena’s heart was shattered at the sight of Kara accepting the extrapolator. It was over. All of it; their relationship was coming to an end before it truly even had time to get off the ground. A sob escaped from her.
“I-,” Kara cleared her throat. “I’d like to think about it, I n-need to have this inspected before I use it.”
Lillian seemed annoyed but relented. “I’ll see you in twenty-four hours, or I’m choosing for you.” With that, she exited the penthouse.
Kara turned to face Lena, and her face fell when she saw Lena’s tears. “Lena,”
Lena shook her head. “Just… Please just hold me while you’re still mine. Please?” she cried. “I know you have to go back. I know you’d regret it for the rest of your life if you didn’t. That’s your child, and your True Love. That far outmatches me. I understand, but please… Until you bring her back, please just stay mine. Okay? Please?”
“Lena,” Kara’s voice sounded so pained, and it broke Lena’s heart. “I love you.”
Lena let out a sob into Kara’s shirt and nodded against her firm chest. “I know. I love you too.” She replied, her heart aching. She knew that she was going to have to let Kara go, but she didn’t want to let go just yet. Truthfully she never wanted to, but she knew she only had a few more hours with Kara as her girlfriend “Can we just be together while we can? Nothing has to change right now. I’m sure I’ll love Sun when you bring her back . I promise I won’t try to butt into your marriage, and I’ll love your son like my own; and you and I will still be best friends, and I’ll still love you more than anything. I’ll respect your decision Togo get her, and I will accept that I lost my chance to be with you a long time ago. But please, for now, can we just pretend that nothing is ever going to tear us apart, and you and I are happily dating, and we will be madly in love forever? Just be mine until you can’t anymore.”
“Okay.” Kara said with a decisive nod. “I love you, Lena.”
Lena pulled back, tears in her eyes. “I love you too.” Her eyes fell to Kara’s lips, she desperately wanted to kiss them, but she wasn’t sure that was okay for her to do anymore. “C-can I kiss you?” She asked, anxiety pumping through her heart.
Lena didn’t get a verbal response, instead, Kara connected their lips with a slow, passionate kiss. “I’m going to kiss you for as long as I can.” She said, framing Lena’s face with her hands. “I’m still in love with you. Getting back my wife won’t change that.”
“It changes our relationship status, though.” Lena said sadly, her eyes averting. “I’m going to lose you before I ever truly had you.” She sighed and pulled away, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be burdening you with my woes. You deserve happiness. You deserve to have your wife and child back.”
Lena finally met Kara’s eyes, and she could see so much confliction in them that it caused her heart to crack. Kara didn’t deserve this much pain. “You know I’d die for you, right?” Kara asked. “That… That no matter what, I can’t live without you? Because I can’t.” Kara shook her head. “I need you in my life.”
Lena’s eyes softened. “I need you in my life too, Kara. In whatever capacity I can have you, I want you in my life.”
“I never thought… I never thought I would get the chance to hold my baby. Or get to embrace my wife again, I-… I never intended to hurt you” Kara’s eyes were so genuine, and Lena knew that. Of course she knew that. Kara would never hurt anyone on purpose unless they were hurting someone else. “I know, Kara. You would never do that to any one if you could avoid it. I know you, you wouldn’t do this to someone on purpose.” Lena cleared her throat. “Now, let’s go get this to Brainy so he can make sure everything is good with this contraption.” She wiped her tears away and then took a deep breath. “Ready?” She asked as she grabbed her door handle.
Kara nodded. “Ready.” She agreed as she smiled sadly at Lena. “This… Why does it hurt?” She asked, tears in her eyes. “I should be happy. I am happy… But it still hurts so damn much.”
Lena’s heart cracked even more, and she enveloped Kara into a tight embrace. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out, and fix it together. Okay? You’re not alone, and soon you’re going to see your baby boy, and the woman you love.”
Kara sat up abruptly facing her with wild eyes. “You’re the woman that I love, Lena!”
“W-what?” Lena asked as Kara started crying. “Darling, what’s wrong?” She asked worriedly as she wrapped her arms around Kara.
“What’s wrong is that I fell in love with you, but now I can’t have you. I’m going to have my wife soon, and I’m so so happy about that, but having to break up with you hurts. I wanted a future with you.”
Lena’s heart broke but she nodded. “You have every right to mourn whatever you’re mourning. Your emotions are valid. But you need to know you don’t have to mourn. There’s nothing to mourn. I will still be here in your life, loving you from afar. You have nothing to mourn. You aren’t losing me.”
“I’m such a terrible person, Lena.” Kara cried. “I’m so sorry.”
Lena forced herself to send Kara a reassuring smile. “Like I’ve said, Kara. Don’t be sorry. This is what you’ve wanted. You deserve it. You are not a terrible person.”
Kara had tears in her eyes once more, but she furiously wiped them away. “I love you, Lena.” She pulled Lena in for another sweet kiss.
“I love you too, Kara. More than anything.” Lena replied, her heart dreading the future. She was going to turn out to be just like Lena 26. Her life from the moment Sun came back to life, was going to be total agony because Kara wasn’t hers anymore. She’d have to watch the love of her life love and share a family with someone else.
XXX
Kara was pacing back and forth at the DEO waiting for Brainy to finish analyzing the extrapolator. They were waiting in a room that had a window allowing them to see what all Brainy was examining, and with each passing moment, Kara got more and more antsy. “What’s taking him so long? Shouldn’t he be able to analyze it in a blink of the eye?”
Lena smiled sadly at her soon-to-be ex-girlfriend. “Kara, he’s just being extra thorough. We all know what my mother is capable of. He’s only trying to protect you.” She stood up and walked over to Kara, enveloping her into a tight hug. “I know that you want your wife back, but let’s just make sure you get to survive the process, okay?”
Kara nodded and took a deep breath. “I’m just overwhelmed I can’t even think straight anymore.”
“Well, that’s understandable. You’re about to resurrect your wife and child. I think anyone would be a little nervous.” Lena comforted, rubbing Kara’s back. “No matter what happens though, I’m here for you. In whatever capacity you need me. Okay? You aren’t alone in this. You never have been, and you never will be. I will be by your side through anything and everything. Even this. Because the only other thing I want as much as you, is your happiness. And your wife and child are going to make you happy.”
Kara looked at her with astonishment and love written across her face. “Why do you love me so much?” She asked. “I mean, I’m so happy that you do, and I love you too, but why are you willing to go through all this pain for me? You don’t deserve any of this pain.”
“I stay because I love you, I love you because you are amazing, Kara. You haven’t caused me any pain, and things have gotten so much better than they had been before. You and I are closer than ever, Alex and the rest of the team no longer hate me, and you’re in love with me. Whether you ‘re choosing your wife over me or not, I’m in love with you, and you’re in love with me. You have so much goodness to offer anyone and everyone in your path. You were the only person that never saw me as a Luthor, but as a friend and, over two decades later, your soulmate. Your heart is gold, you love with all that you have, your morals are strong, and your nobility is unmatched. That’s why I love you, Kara. That’s why I’ve always loved you, and that’s why I’ve stayed.”
Kara smiled at her. “You really are my soulmate, Lena. I love you so much.” She connected their lips again, then rested her foreheads together. “I wish things had been different. We would have been so happy together.”
Lena smiled as she fought back tears; her heart was being eaten alive by her heart ache. “Yes, we would have. Ww would have had successful careers, we would both be home every day by 3, and spend the rest of the day cuddling on the couch talking and laughing together. But on the weekends? On the weekends we would travel the galaxies and explore everything there possibly was to explore. We would have been the happiest couple on Argo and Earth… Perhaps to ever exist.”
Kara’s face looked devastated. “I really wish we could have had that.”
“Me too.” Lena nodded in agreement. “But I’m happy for you, truly.” She said sincerely. “I’ll be fine,” she lied.
“You’re really okay with this? You won’t hate me?” Kara asked worriedly.
“As I’ve said an abundant number of times, I could never hate you, Kara. Never. I will always be in love with you.” Lena responded she slowly pushed some of Kara’s loose hair behind her ear, and Lena heard the intake of breath. “Trust how much I love you, Kara. Because I’m not going anywhere, no matter what.” She leaned in, and pressed their lips together in a slow, languid kiss. “I’m going to miss being able to do that.” Lena admitted sadly as she reluctantly pulled away from Kara.
Kara smiled sadly. “I wish I didn’t have to hurt you.”
“Stop blaming yourself for things that aren’t your fault, Kara. I pursued you. Not the other way around. Neither of us knew that this would be a possibility. It’s not your fault, and I’m happy you’re going to get to meet your son.”
“How are you so selfless? You’re willing to sacrifice your happiness for me… again. Aren’t you tired of that? Lena shook her head. “No. I’d do anything for you and your happiness. You matter too much for me to deny you a single thing. You have all of me.”
Kara’s eyes searched Lena’s face, and her face softened into something so tender that it caused Lena’s heart to stutter. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” Lena replied. “With every part of me.”
Kara cupped Lena’s cheeks. “You are beautiful, and brilliant, and deserving of all things good. You deserve love, you deserve happiness. You deserve a family of your own. I hope that you are able to find all of those things, Lena. I wish I was the one that was able to give you all of those things. I’m so sorry. I really wanted to.”
Lena let a small sob rip through her throat. “I really wanted it to be you, too… I still do.”
Kara let a tear slip from her eye, and Lena wiped it away with her thumb. “It’s okay, Kara. I was scared of this happening, so I tried my best to prepare for it just in case, because I know my mother, and I was scared she would ruin this for me, and she did; but that’s okay. Because no matter how much it’s going to destroy me to let you go, I at least had the chance to love you the way I’ve wanted to for decades. I got to hold you, kiss you and make love to you. Even just for a week.”
Kara pulled Lena into a sloppy kiss. “You truly are my soulmate, Lena. Nothing is ever going to change that. I will always love you.”
Lena smiled, her lips quivering and her soul aching. “I will always love you too, Kara. More than anything.”
Kara sat down next to Lena, when Lena’s heart shattered at a realization… Kara’s home was the home Lena had back Argo. Where was she supposed to live now? Surely Sun would not want Lena to live with them, especially now that Kara and Lena have shared something deeper than friendship. She cleared her throat, trying to keep the emotions out of her voice. “Will you help me find a place to live when we get back to Argo?”
Kara looked taken aback. “Oh. I… I hadn’t even thought about that.” Her face looked downtrodden. “I guess it makes sense that you’d want to move out.” She nodded, pain in her eyes. “Yes. I can help you look for a home.”
Lena wiped away her tears. “Can I ask you something without upsetting you?”
“I’ll do my best to stay composed.” Kara grinned through her tears.
“If it weren’t for your son… if it was just a question of staying here with me, or going back and saving Sun and being with her again, would you still be going back?” Lena asked, eyes searching Kara’s face for any sign of hesitancy, and she found plenty.
Kara’s eyes looked unsure.
“Because if you’re going back in time only so you can be a mother, I will gladly carry your children, Kara. As many as you wa-,”
Kara captured Lena’s lips in a searing kiss, stopping Lena’s thoughts.
“Do you want kids, Lena?” Kara asked sincerely.
“If they’re yours.” Lena answered.
“That’s not what I meant.” Kara shook her head. “Genuinely. Taking me out of the equation, do you aspire to be a mom? Do you dream about having children?” Kara asked.
Lena clenched her jaw. “Kara, I‘ll birth your children. I’ll do anything to keep you. But if it’s truly Sun you want, I’ll respect that even though I’ll be devastated. I just need to know, so I don’t kick myself every day for the rest of my life for not asking you.”
“I love my wife.” Kara stated. “And I love my son.”
“That’s not what I asked though, Kara.” Lena said pleadingly.
“I can’t give you a straight answer Lena, because I don’t know, okay?” Kara said frustratedly. She sighed as she rested her elbows on the table and covered her face with her palms. “I love her, and I miss her, and I want my baby. Our baby. But… I love you too. I want you too.”
“You have me. You’ve always had me.” Lena replied. Her heart was burning with anguish. She didn’t want Kara to go to Sun, but she wanted her to be happy, and if it was Sun she needed to be happy, the. She had to accept that. “I’m sorry that you’re hurting. If I could take the pain away from you I would do it instantly. But I can’t, Kara. I can’t take your pain away, but I can support you through it. I will support you through it.”
Kara looked up from her hands. “I’m a mess. I’m sorry.”
Lena smiled sadly. “No apologies, Kara.”
Kara looked up to her. “You never answered my question, Lena.”
“I can’t even remember what it was you asked.” Lena admitted with a chuckle.
“Do you truly want kids, is motherhood a dream for you, or would you just have them with me because you think that would make me happy?” Kara reiterated.
Lena’s face fell. “Motherhood has never been a dream of mine per se, but I’m not against it. Not if it’s with you.”
Kara smiled sadly at Lena she was about to reply when Brainy came in and laid the extrapolator on the table in front of Kara. “It isn’t dangerous to travel through. However, I still need to talk to Lena about a few things, outside if you’re willing.”
Lena nodded and followed Brainy into the room, leaving Kara alone with the device. Lena looked through the glass to see Kara toying with the extrapolator I’m her hand, twisting slowly in her hands with a melancholy expression on her face.
Lena frowned as her heart ached. She really hated Lillian. She was going to shoot her herself now.
“What is it you need to talk to me about, Brainy?” Lena asked.
“When I said that it wasn’t dangerous to travel through the extrapolator, I was telling the truth. But where there is death, there will always be death. In order to use the extrapolator to save Sun, someone has to hold it open until Kara walks through it; as soon as she does, the portal will close, but it will suck the life force out of whoever held it open for her. No matter what, Kara is still going to have to come to terms with a devastating loss.” Brainy informed.
Lena’s heart broke for Kara, as she looked at looked through the glass to Kara, who was looking at the extrapolator as if it were the world’s largest diamond, Lena made a choice. She would hold the extrapolator open for Kara. It only made sense that it be her.
Who else could it possibly be? Kara needed Alex and the rest of her family. She didn’t need Lena. Not the way she needed them, especially if she was getting Sun back. Lena would be the least painful death for Kara to bear. “I’ll do it.”
Brainy frowned. “Shouldn’t you ask Kara how she feels about this first?”
“No. We can’t let her know because she’ll back out because she is selfless. But she wants Sun. She wants their son. She deserves to have them, and if my measly life being given up will give Kara happiness, then that’s what’s going to happen, and I will die happy by knowing that my final act is out of love, and that it will give Kara the happiness she deserves. I’m her soulmate, I’m doing this.” Lena looked through the glass one more time to find Kara staring at the extrapolator. She looked over to Brainy once again. “Can you just give us some time alone to say our final goodbye? I want her to have closure. I want her to know that I chose to do this, that it’s not her fault. That I love her, and wherever I end up in the afterlife, I will love her. Always.”
Brainy nodded. “Take all the time that you need. Goodbye, Lena. I’m glad we reconciled before the end.”
Lena swallowed back her tears and nodded. “Thank you.”
Brainy nodded and then bid farewell, leaving the area. Once he was gone, Lena made her way back to the room Kara occupied.
Kara looked up at her. “What did he want to talk about?”
“Oh!” Lena made a dismissive wave. “Just wanted to go over the basics of operating the extrapolator, but I already knew most of the information anyway.” She lied.
“Oh. Good. I’m glad it wasn’t anything ominous.” Kara said. “I can’t handle anymore pain.”
“I understand.” Lena admitted, her heart aching for the woman before her. She hoped she healed quickly from Lena’s death. She was sure she would, she’d have Sun again, and eventually their son. “Kara, you do know that I love you more than anything else in existence, right?”
Kara smiled. “Even more than kale?” She teased tearfully.
Lena smiled and chuckled. “Most definitely more than kale.”
“I love you too, Lena.” Kara responded with a half smile. I’m so sorry that I have to hurt you.”
“No apologies, Kara. We’ve been through this a gazillion times.” Lena said with a warm smile. She knew that her death was quickly approaching, and that terrified her; but she was more concerned about how Kara would feel after she found out Lena died for her. “You know that anything I do for you, I do by my own choice, right? You know that you’re not responsible for what I choose to do, don’t you?”
Kara frowned. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Please just humor me, Kara.” Lena begged. “Tell me you know that.”
Kara frowned but she nodded. “Okay, okay. I know.”
“Do you truly?” Lena asked.
Kara’s frown deepened. “You’re scaring me.”
“I don’t mean to.” Lena shook her head sadly. “I just need you to know that I never have regrets about anything I do for you.” Lena said, trying to make the point finally get through to Kara. Because when Lena died in just a few minutes, and Kara finally found out; she couldn’t have Kara falling into a depressive episode brought on by unnecessary guilt.
“I love you so much.” Kara stated. “I’m going to make sure that the house we find for you is as close to mine as possible.” She smiled.
Lena’s heart ached, because Kara still thought that she was going to get to go house hunting with Lena. She gave Kara a weak smile and nodded. “Yeah.” She agreed. “Yeah, that’d be great, Kara.”
She gestured to the extrapolator in Kara’s hand. “Now give me this thing, and let’s get your wife and child back, what do ya say?”
Kara gave her a tearful smile. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”
Lena’s fear of her impending doom was starting to pulsate through her. She gulped it down and nodded. “Same here.” She said as she followed Kara out into the large open room where Brainy had inspected the extrapolator so that they had enough room for the portal.
When they were in the middle of the big open room Lena turned to Kara, drinking her all in, trying to memorize her face. “You are so beautiful, Darling.” Lena said with a trembling voice.
Kara erased the distance between them and kissed her lips. She rested her forehead against Lena’s. “So are you, Lena. You’re gorgeous.”
Lena smiled sadly. “I love you so much that it hurts.”
“I love you too.” Kara stated sadly.” I never wanted it to end this way.” She cried. “I didn’t want us to end at all.”
“I know. But the week that you were mine was the happiest week of my entire existence.” Lena replied. “Thank you for making me the happiest I had ever been in my entire life. I will never love anyone as much as I will always love you. No matter where I am.”
Kara smiled sadly, tears cascading down her cheeks. “This really is the end, isn’t it?”
Lena nodded sadly she wiped away her tears again… Kara had no idea just how true that statement was. Especially for Lena.“It appears so, Darling.”
“Thank you, Lena. Thank you for loving me so much. Being with you, was a dream I hadn’t even realized I had until I was finally living it. You made me whole. You fixed my brokenness, an you opened my heart up to love again. You pulled me from the brink of death. I could never thank enough, or express to you just how much I love you.” Kara said as she framed Lena’s face with her hands. “I’ll never stop loving you, Lena.”
Lena gave Kara a wet, quivering smile. She had longed to hear those words come out of Kara’s mouth for so long, and now that she had, it was too late. Kara was going back to her wife, and Lena was getting ready to die so that Kara could reunite with her.
At least she’d have it easier than Lena 26. She was going to be dead, meaning that she wouldn’t have to sit back and watch Kara love and start a family with someone else.
“One last kiss?” Lena asked as a sob ripped from her throat.
Kara nodded, leaning in and tenderly pressing her lips to Lena’s. It lasted for quite a long while before Kara finally pulled away. She cleared her throat. “Okay! Activate the portal. I’m ready.”
Lena nodded as anxiety began to reverberate through her. She truly was terrified of what laid in store for her after death, but whatever it was, she’d face it. Because doing so meant that Kara would find happiness.
She opened the portal and Kara began walking towards it. She tried to mute her sob to the best of her abilities, but Kara had super hearing, and picked it up. She froze and turned her head to face Lena. Her face fell. “Lena.”
Lena shook her head. “I’m okay, Kara. Go, be happy my love.” She cried. “Love her fiercely and hold your son tight. Treasure each moment you have with them. I love you, Kara. I love you. Never forget that.”
Kara’s eyes showed a layer of remorse as she made her way to the portal. “I love you too, Lena.”
|
Stiles bends down and picks up his red t-shirt from the pile in the corner. He had already pulled on his boxers and his jeans, discovered his wallet had fallen out in the living room, and now he just has to find his cell phone. Stiles winces when he realizes he has no memory of the last time he’d seen it.
The gorgeous girl starfished on the bed in front of him stretches out and moans. Stiles freezes in his tracks, stares at her, while he can feel his heart pound in his throat. What was her name again? Ma…Maya…May…Malia. Right.
She seemed nice, they definitely had fun last night, but fuck, Stiles is too old to be doing this shit. He runs his hand through his hair when he realizes Malia isn’t waking up.
Stiles hears a phone buzz somewhere in the room and he drops to the floor to look underneath the bed. He spots it and crawls around the floor to grab it. And it’s a Samsung.
That’d be great, if he didn’t own an iPhone 5c. Stiles silences it, wondering if Princess Kira is important to Malia. He straightens, staying on his knees, and slips the phone next to Malia’s head. Just in case it’s an emergency and this Princess Kira needs to get a hold of her.
It occurs to him that Kira is the name of the girl Malia wouldn’t shut up about last night. If he hadn’t been so damn drunk last night, he probably wouldn’t have let her pull him upstairs. Who lives above a bar anyway? It must get so noisy on weekends.
He shakes his head, amused that that’s what he’s more concerned about. The truth is that he was tired and sad last night. Drunk and hot girls aren’t always the best combination. But Malia had been fun. They’d laughed a lot. He remembers that much. She had told him she was only looking for one night, but they’d had a long, fairly deep talk.
Kira’s name lights up on Malia’s phone once again and he makes a face. Goddammit, he doesn’t want to get caught on her floor, looking at her like some perv.
Stiles stands up and debates how desperately he needs his stupid phone anyway. He knows that Lydia will kill him if he doesn’t call her to thank her for hooking him up with Malia. Stiles decides to look around the living room again, and clutches his shirt tightly in his hand.
“Goddammit,” he mutters to himself when he steps out into the living room. Stiles notices a piece of paper on Malia’s coffee table. He can’t resist being nosy. He casts a quick glance at the bedroom before he picks up the note.
Malia,
I hope you get a chance to celebrate! I left a bottle of champagne in your fridge for you. Sorry I can’t make it tonight. Go nuts, beautiful! You deserve the break after all your hard work.
xo,
Kira
He wonders if Kira has a thing for Malia. Fuck, he hopes he didn’t mess that up. Malia had been all over him last night though, so maybe she wasn’t into Kira. Stiles decides to take a shot in the dark, and scribbles out a note for Malia.
M,
I think you should take Kira out on a date.
S, the guy you took home last night and who is sorry for disappearing before you woke up
ps. I had fun, I hope you did too.
Maybe he’d end up embarrassing himself, but that’s okay. Stiles hears a buzzing from the hall closet and smiles.
“There’s a god.”
He rushes over to find it and when he does, he has to move Malia’s bra off it. Man, they’d been all over this apartment last night. Stiles sees Lydia’s name on the screen and answers.
“Hey Lyds, um, can you just give me a few minutes?” he asks, keeping his voice low.
There’s a sigh and some shuffling noise before Lydia says, “Hurry up, Stilinski. I only have ten minutes.”
He finds his shoes, but not his socks, and considers it an acceptable loss. Stiles unlocks Malia’s apartment door and feels a little sketchy about not being able to bolt lock it behind him. He makes sure the knob itself is locked though and makes his way down the stairs.
“Okay, I can talk now.”
“How did last night go after I introduced you to Malia?” Lydia demands.
“It went…well,” Stiles says, with a laugh. He slips out into the alley behind the bar and glances around. Man, Malia lives in a sketchy neighbourhood. He makes a mental note. “She’s nice, but she was very clear that it was a one-time thing.”
“That’s weird. She was talking to me the other day about how she was looking to settle down,” Lydia says. Her frown is obvious by her tone.
Stiles jogs across the street and pulls his t-shirt on before he starts walking down the boardwalk. He sighs. “I’m thinking she was talking about Kira.”
There’s a pause before Lydia says, “Oh.”
He laughs. “It’s cool. We had fun. She’s a nice girl. But I didn’t really feel the tug, y'know? I want to feel the tug.”
“You know, before I met Allison, I would’ve told you the tug–the spark–it isn’t real. But I felt it when I met her.” Lydia sighs softly. He almost doesn’t hear it.“I can’t believe I didn’t see Malia and Kira coming. I’m so good at that shit!”
Stiles grins. “Yeah. I was pretty drunk and it didn’t really occur to me until this morning. What’s their story?”
“I have no idea.” Lydia lets out a little laugh. “I have absolutely no idea. I did not see that coming. But you two had fun?”
“We did. She’s great. I just left her place now. Did you know she lives above that sketchy bar?” Stiles asks.
“I did. Kira’s been trying to get her to move out for…oh my god! How did Inot see this coming?” Lydia says, dismayed. “For fuck’s sake, Stiles. Allison is going to laugh in my face. I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Malia. I’ll find you someone.”
Stiles shrugs, despite Lydia not being able to see him. “Nawh, don’t worry about it, Lydia. I’ll be okay.”
“Alright. Well, I set up an online profile for you last night. Download the OkCupid app. I’ll text you your log-in information when I hang up. You can give that a shot if you’re serious about finding a relationship.”
“Thanks, Lyds. I–oh my god.”
“What is it?”
Stiles drops his voice as he keeps walking. “The hottest guy is walking towards me right now. Like he’s drop-my-pants-right-here hot. Too bad he’s wearing a shirt.”
Lydia’s laugh echos over the phone. She says, “I’ll give you ten bucks if you bump into him on purpose.”
“What?! No way!” Stiles says, grinning now.
“Alright, fifty.”
He can’t take his eyes off the hot man who keeps getting closer. Holy shit. He quietly adds, “He looks like he had a rough night.”
“Is he doing a walk of shame too?” Lydia teases.
“I think he just might be.” As they grow closer to each other, Stiles can see the messy sex hair, the fact that he’s missing a sock, and he thinks he sees the tag from his shirt. “An inside-out and backwards shirt is a good indicator, right?”
“Yes. So he’s probably single, because only single people do one-night-stands. Do it, Stiles. Bump into him like the clumsy idiot you are and ask him out for breakfast. What do you have to lose, Stilinski?” There’s some background noise and then Lydia says, “I gotta go, babe. Good luck. Love you.”
“Love you too,” Stiles says.
The closer he gets to the hottie, the more aware he is that his body is humming. Stiles can’t believe it. He’s actually going to take Lydia’s idiotic advice. He stumbles and lets his shoulder bump into the hottie’s.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” Stiles say, quickly. He wonders if the hot guy can hear how high his voice goes.
The guy stops walking and waves his hand in the air, as if to brush it off. “Yeah. No problem.”
Stiles blinks before he starts laughing. Hot or not, he knows when someone’s regretting the night before. “Oh man, rough night?”
The guy meets his eyes and he looks hungover as fuck. Stiles tries not to be amused - and he also tries not to be jealous. How hot this guy looks hungover is ridiculous; how hot would he look sober?
The man grunts. “You’re not kidding. Tequila is not a man’s friend.”
Stiles laughs, and decides why the fuck not? Really, nothing’s stopping him. He takes a small breath. Lydia had never steered him wrong before. In fact, Stiles is sure the only time she’s ever been wrong is this morning when she thought Malia was looking for a serious relationship.
Stiles blurts, “Yeah? You want to talk about it over breakfast?”
“Are you hitting on me?” the guy asks, squinting. He lifts a hand above his eyes to block out the sun. “It’s eight thirty in the morning. I’m hungover. I’m pretty sure I’m missing my sock and my underwear. And I clearly just came from another person’s bed.”
“I don’t want to be the one to break this to you, but your t-shirt is also on inside-out and backwards,” Stiles teases. He’s unsure if he should feel this comfortable with someone so quickly, but he does and he lets his shoulders relax. He’s sure this is what Scott meant when he saw Isaac for the first time. He’s sure because he doesn’t want to be wrong.
The man looks down and groans. “This is not my day.”
“Hey, a sort-of-decent-looking guy just offered to take you out to breakfast. It can’t be all that bad.” Stiles watches him carefully to see how he reacts.
The guy looks up and eyes Stiles for a moment. “You’re wrong.”
“Oh. Um. Sorry, I’ll leave you–”
“A hot guy just offered to feed me,” the guy corrects. He sticks out his hand, pleasant smile on his lips. “Derek Hale.”
“Stiles Stilinski.”
“Excuse me?” Derek says, raising his eyebrows. “What was that?”
Stiles laughs, casually bumping into Derek’s arm. He’s surprised when Derek smiles at him. Wow. “You think you’re a funny man, don’t you, Derek?”
He shrugs. “I’m not all bad. So, you’re on a walk of shame too, huh Stiles?”
“How’d you know?” Stiles asks.
“You’re missing both socks, and your shirt is on inside-out.” Derek smirks. He leans in and stage whispers, “Plus you reek of stale alcohol.”
“Shut up. You don’t smell any better,” Stiles says, playfully shoving Derek. He immediately wants to pull him back to be closer to him.
When Derek laughs, Stiles inhales sharply. Maybe this whole one-night-stand deal isn’t so bad after all. Not if the morning after means finding the tug.
“You’re paying?” Derek asks, tilting his head to look at Stiles.
Stiles can’t stop the smile that breaks out on his face. “Yeah. Breakfast’s on me.”
Derek pats his butt pockets and says, “Good, because I think I lost my wallet last night.”
“You’re a mess, aren’t you?” Stiles teases. He earns one of Derek’s smile and feels like he might never get used to it.
“Yeah, but as of right now, I’m your mess to deal with. C'mon, Slick. Let’s go get some hangover breakfast.”
“Slick?” Stiles asks.
“Yeah, isn’t that what you said your name is?”
Stiles laughs and bumps into Derek again while they head down the boardwalk together. Stiles rolls his eyes, and points a finger at him. “You know what my name is. You’re probably already thinking of what font you want to tattoo it on your ass in.”
Derek lets out a bark of laughter before he winces and puts a finger to his head. “Oh god, no laughter, it hurts too much.”
♚♞♚♞♚♞
When they’re still talking to each other over coffee and empty plates three hours later, Stiles has to ask, “This feels so easy. Doesn’t this feel easy?”
Derek seems to debate his answer for a few minutes before he reaches out over the table to grasp Stiles’ finger tips. “Maybe we’re both still drunk.”
Stiles grins. “That’s very likely. So what do you think will happen with the woman you hooked up with last night?”
“Braeden? Nothing. We’ve been friends for years. She probably already wants to forget last night ever happened,” Derek explains.
“Which means you’re absolutely relationship-free if I ask you out to dinner tomorrow?”
Derek laughs. “I don’t know. See, I bumped into this guy on the boardwalk while I did my walk of shame this morning and he offered me breakfast.”
“What’d you do, fall in love with him?” Stiles teases.
“No, actually, I might be too creeped out from that to accept a dinner date from someone else. I need to shower immediately - gotta get rid of his lingering alcohol breath.”
Stiles claps a hand to his mouth, eyes wide, but then Derek raises his eyebrows with a smirk on his lips. Stiles deflates from horror to amusement. “Did anyone ever point out that you think you’re a funny, funny man, Derek Hale?”
“Maybe once or twice. So, are you going to ask me to dinner or what?”
“Dinner?” Stiles murmurs, tightening his grip on Derek’s hand.
Derek shrugs. “Maybe. You have to give me your number first.”
Stiles lets out a laugh as he nods, telling Derek that he’s a smooth one, and he realizes he can’t wait to tell Lydia about this. He finally felt the tug and he found him on a walk of shame.
♚♞♚♞♚♞
Lydia gives him a hundred bucks for going through with her stupid suggestion, and scoring a date. Stiles uses it to go to Costco to buy bulk packages of small mouthwash bottles. He spends the first three months of their relationship hiding bottles around Derek’s apartment. Never again can Derek say that Stiles’ has bad breath, evening jokingly. It’s okay because Derek likes to do breath tests by kissing him thoroughly whenever he might think that Stiles’ breath smells - there are a lot of tests, and Stiles passes every one of them.
He also scores another fifty bucks from Lydia when he hears that Malia asked out Kira. Stiles said they’d announce their engagement within six months. They do in five. And Allison convinces Lydia to quit betting against Stiles. She’s on a losing streak, and well, Allison might feel a little guilty for teasing her too much. Lydia doesn’t mind so much because Allison’s smile still gives her the tug.
♚♞♚♞♚♞ |
MIDGARD
The front doors to the children’s home opened and several soldiers dressed in black exited efficiently with weapons held at the ready. They knew this location was linked to the Xmen. If the mutants of that group weren’t already here they would be soon. One of the men was carrying an unconscious girl. Colonel Nicholi nodded and talked into his headset, “Finish loading the cargo and bring the vans around.”
It's not that he had a hatred for mutants. It was fear. He’d seen what some of them could do. And the dangers associated with those abilities seemed to be increasing, not decreasing. The practical choice was to find some way to neutralize these abilities. For the good of the whole, he had no issue if this minor fraction of the population had to be sacrificed to achieve that goal.
There was a burst of static through the headset and then silence.
At the rear of the building the men couldn’t respond. One was currently having his head bounced off the pavement by a pissed off Blade while she sent a back kick into his partner’s chest. The other men had already been dealt with by a pissed off mage.
Nicholi paused, then his voice sharpened. “Report.”
Not even static this time.
“I am afraid your mission is about to fail spectacularly.” Eyes locked on Loki who was at the top of the stairs, having chosen the high ground. He lightly tossed three toy cars at Nicholi. Well…they were toy cars now. The previous occupants were tied up, covered in feathers, and hanging like piñatas off the neighboring light poles a block over. There might be a few sticks leaning against those poles in case anyone wanted to give them a few good whacks.
In the back of Loki’s mind, he thought, no such thing as coincidence…
The men whipped around with guns pointed. Loki made a gesture and shadows seemed to swarm around him. He took a step as he descended the stairs, yet an echo of his body hadn’t moved. A spell to trick the eye and make it impossible to track where he currently was. With a series of moves Loki had them disarmed while sending the weapons into storage, a couple of them injured but no one critically so. They had no idea how lucky they were. The only two men standing were Nicholi and the soldier holding Melody, the men that were conscious were moaning where they lay.
Loki’s eyes flashed as he ceased the spell and walked forward silently. He ordered too softly, “Give her to me. Now.”
The soldier swallowed. “Or what?”
“Why is that always the pedantic question?” he asked in exasperation. Loki tilted his head slightly as he considered what he would do. “Fine. Or I will turn you into a child, drop you off at the worst orphanage hellhole on this planet, and see how you like it.” The soldier couldn’t hand Melody off fast enough before he quickly backed away with hands raised in surrender.
Without comment two spells later and he confirmed Melody was physically fine without even a bruise, just sleeping.
Nicholi gave the soldier a disgusted look but since they were both disarmed there was no point in attacking. “Are you even capable of doing that?”
Loki didn’t look up as he carefully tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and shifted to cradle her body against his chest. He held back a sudden, violent desire to shift and tear this mortal apart. “Tempt me and find out.”
“Why are you protecting a mutant?”
Now Loki slowly looked up, a sneer appearing. “A mutant?”
Nicholi gestured towards the structure, forcing himself not to turn his head towards a neighboring building. “She and those like her are dangerous aberrations. They need to be cured of their affliction before matters spiral--…”
Loki cut off his prejudiced, short-sighted tirade, “Into chaos? I think you will find I adore disorder.” The dart bounced harmlessly off the magical shield that surrounded Loki. A gesture by his hand lifted the dart back in the air. With another sneer Loki sent it back and watched the man on the neighboring flat roof crumple to the surface in an unconscious heap. “A valiant effort to distract but pathetic. As was your attempt to slip children out the back door. They are all being put back to bed as we speak. And you are leaving. Now.”
The soldier obeyed instantly, obviously afraid. Nicholi wasn’t so easily cowed. “If I don’t?”
Loki gave the man a sweetly murderous smile. “I believe there are some…zombie worms not far from here currently being dealt with by the Avengers.” He noticed the flicker of recognition in Nicholi’s eyes.
…as I thought…no such thing as coincidence…
He kept his own face carefully blank as he continued, “A few more worms will not be noticed.”
“You--…”
Lifting a single eyebrow and cutting him off. “Joking? Bluffing? I am a mage you pathetic mortal. Try me.” Loki made a sharp motion with one hand. A flash of burning white light and Nicholi screamed, pawing at his face. The other mortals still in the area were unaffected. The blindness would be temporary, perhaps two or three hours before the effects slowly faded.
‘Loki.’
Loki cocked his head slightly in the direction of the window Abyss was calling down to him from. He teleported with Melody to a bedroom with four beds. The teen in bed was unconscious, her face an unhealthy pale. At the foot of the bed Abyss moved to sit like a furry sentinel, his tail lashing about in agitation. ‘There is something wrong with her, she should not be breathing like this.’
He opened his hand and a pill bottle shot into his palm. “Mortal drugs and then whatever was used to tranquilize the children.” Which was no doubt suppressing her ability to breathe. He nodded abruptly and sent out a double to inform Willow he would return. “Assist Willow, please. I will return shortly.” He gestured, Melody still in his arms since he was not putting her down, and lifted the teen off the bed with telekinesis. A flash and he teleported all of them to the Helicarrier.
The medical staff on duty in the Helicarrier froze. Loki kept his tone crisp. “The girl is a mutant and was tranquilized while on this mortal regimen. Her breathing is being compromised.” He put her on the bed next to Veilya, handed over the prescription bottle with the name Martina Suarez on it, and took a step back. He silently watched them get to work for a moment. He glanced at Veilya who he sensed was sleeping instead of her Self still travelling. Which meant she might be awake in a matter of hours. The Völva was also still there, her eyes closed.
Switching languages to address the two Einherjar standing guard over Veilya and the Völva. “The girl does not leave this room.” Something was going on and he didn’t like it. Until he sorted it out he was putting all of his people on alert. That sort of order he just gave would be sufficient warning for an AEsir warrior. Both men silently nodded in understanding that trust granted to the mortals was thinning.
A figure peered over the roof of the children’s home to watch Nicholi who was stumbling down the street, calling for help. He was a gruff looking man with a certain animal magnetism to him. Professor X had sent him along with several other members of the Xmen, not certain what was going on in the children’s home but concerned because of it.
He’d already been in the area and beat the others to the building by several minutes who were due to arrive by X-jet. He’d been here in time to see the men exiting with the girl and had been ready to leap into the fray to kick major ass. Only for a goth Houdini to beat him to it.
“I would not recommend leaving the remaining children here for long.”
He swung around, steel claws springing forward from his knuckles. Then he paused. He could see someone, a tall figure with green eyes, but there was no scent following it. “What the hell…”
Loki smirked, amused at this mortal. “I am a temporary duplication, an illusion for your purposes. You are of the Xmen, correct?”
Wolverine nodded warily. “Yeah.”
The mage paused to give him a long look, then asked slowly, “Should I use small words?”
Logan glared. “Hey, I’m not an idiot.”
Loki waved him off, not interesting in exchanging quips. “How lovely we have established that. Get the children to safety. I think the mortals will undoubtedly return in a matter of hours to legally remove them.”
Wolverine tipped his head towards the girl in his arms. “You’re taking the girl?”
The duplicate laughed mockingly and turned transparent. “I already have.” He was gone.
***
Sigyn scrambled the distance when Loki appeared on the couch with Melody sleeping in his arms, Willow and Abyss in tow. “Is she alright??”
Sif silently jumped to her feet as well and the remaining AEsir all tensed.
Loki shifted his hold on Melody enough so that Sigyn could run her finger through the child’s hair. He reassured her, “She is sleeping but she will recover.” She had better or he would be sending a lot of people to Hela. Then he locked eyes with Tyr. “We need to have a discussion about closing ranks.”
Tyr crossed his arms. “At your convenience.” He knew whatever he was going to hear he wasn’t going to like it. If the mortals had turned treacherous it wouldn’t just be a matter of leaving.
Willow strode stiffly for the alcohol, obviously agitated. Abyss moved to an unoccupied section of the couch, staring silently with concern at Melody.
Sigyn kept her tone careful as she put the comm in her ear long enough to say. “Gentlemen and lady, Loki has returned to the Tower injury free. Happy hunting.” She took the comm out and explained when he raised an eyebrow. “They asked after you, inspired as Thor was worried about you.”
“I see.” The words were simple, but something about this wasn’t making him happy.
She knew him well enough to say, “I think I like this version of him a bit more than the other one. Do not allow your pride discourage him from being protective.” He rolled his eyes. Sigyn switch to elvish, “I gather this distraction was just that, a tactic to get your mortal friends out of the way.”
Loki’s lips thinned. “Yes, as we both know I do not believe in coincidences.”
Her face was just as grim. “Neither do I. What occurred?”
His voice more growl than not, he told her.
The story told, Sigyn wasn’t very careful when she asked, “Do we know who?”
His eyes shot to hers, measuring the feral glint he found there. “Sigyn,” he said in soft warning.
Her lips uncurled far enough to display her canines. “What? I would think you would encourage me.”
Ordinarily she wasn’t wrong. If he wasn’t still under father’s thumb. If he wasn’t in such a tenuous position with the girls. “You cannot wage war against the mortals.” They both heard the silent yet.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “You may be afraid of your father’s wrath but I am not.” He silently frowned at her word choice, knowing she wasn’t one to speak without thinking. “If these mortals are a threat to those I care about they shall reap the consequences.”
Instead of getting offend or angry he reached out and snagged a few of her fingers, pulling the hand in and kissing her knuckles. “Subtlety, my love. I am not proposing that they do not pay. I am proposing a different way of accomplishing it.” His smile turned sly. “Besides, I dealt with the ones who acted…I want the ones who ordered it, as well.”
Sigyn nodded in agreement before she asked, “Why are we not leaving?”
He stiffened. “Not without El.”
She immediately corrected his misunderstanding. “I was not proposing to leave her behind. Veilya is not awake either. But I suppose a more accurate question is why are not prepared to whisk them off this planet the moment it is possible?”
Loki smiled just a little. “At minimum, we need to wait for your elven companions and their ship to arrive.” It was Sigyn’s turn to frown slightly. “The Starlings,” he reminded.
She nodded, remembering that little issue that still needed resolving. “Ah, and the Vanir ship.”
“What are the two of you plotting?”
Both Loki and Sigyn looked over at Sif, but it was Loki who asked, “Plotting, Sif?”
She didn’t fall for it. “You switched languages to one that can’t be translated by AllSpeak and you are wearing your devious look.”
Loki used his hands to feel his own face as if to confirm it. He already knew the expression he was wearing. Sif rolled her eyes. He blinked slowly before widening his eyes and slowly placing one hand against his chest. “Sif. I am hurt and shocked. Would I be plotting behind my father’s back? That would be untoward.” Sigyn was quick to turn her attention back to Melody, biting the inside of her lower lip to keep from giggling.
Sif snorted at him, shaking her head before moving away to sit in one of the neighboring chairs. “No comment.” The trickster smirked after her. He was silently curious why she was here instead of off with Thor but Sigyn’s next question distracted him from asking.
“Then what of the girls?”
Loki turned his attention back to Sigyn. “You arranged the meeting?” She gave a silent nod in confirmation. “Then I will start there to assume guardianship.”
She thought over that response, considered what had happened, and proposed, “I think a more aggressive offensive is required additionally to an expeditious defensive retreat.”
He frowned slightly. “They would not be interested in El.”
Sigyn brushed her fingers over Melody’s head. “I have no doubt she will awaken distressed. Having her sister here will alleviate some of her worry.” Now she gave Loki a concerned look. “What if they kidnap one sister to obtain the other?”
He considered what she was saying and nodded slowly to himself. “I underestimated them once and you make a valid point.”
“Do not be too hard on yourself.” He raised an eyebrow as if to ask how he couldn’t be. Her finger lightly flicked against the bracelet around Melody’s wrist. “You are your harshest critic. You are not omniscient. You took reasonable precautions and they caught you by surprise.” He pulled in an annoyed breath. Annoyed with the situation. “I propose that one of us watches the children at all times until we are no longer here.”
He gave her a small smile. “I had been hoping you would say that.” She mirrored him. “I will bring El back here after meeting with the mortals.”
‘I will watch over the kit until you arrive.’
They both jumped as Abyss teleported away. Their eyes moved from the spot where Abyss disappeared before locking eyes again. “Familiars can do that?”
Loki blinked and silently shrugged. Willow sat down where Abyss had just left, a tray with more glasses on it already prefilled. “A familiar is magical in their own right and dangerous until they have chosen someone.” She grabbed another drink and raised it in the air. “But they are fucking terrifying if the one they have chosen to protect is under attack.”
After a beat Loki and Sigyn reached for the remaining glasses.
***
Veilya frowned before opening her eyes. Unlike any other sleep, she felt rejuvenated in a way she hadn’t enjoyed since she’d been a child. The Völva opened her own moss green eyes and tilted her head towards the priestess. She absorbed that fact. She was now a priestess. It was both thrilling and intimidating, to know the purpose of your life now before you.
Immediately her hands moved to instinctively confirm the state of her torso. She was fully healed and even her attire had been magically repaired.
“Where am I?”
The two women turned their attention to the neighboring bed where a girl was struggling to open her eyes but it was Veilya who sat up and inquired as she pushed thoughts of herself aside, “What is your name?”
The teen looked around in confusion. She had no idea where she was or how she’d gotten here. The last thing she remembered was taken a sleeping pill since her dreams had been absolutely nuts last night. “Martina Suarez. Who are you?” The other woman was beautiful and oddly familiar.
The priestess tipped her head forward in greeting with a smile. “Veilya.”
Martina paused for a moment to consider the name before asking, “You don’t have a last name?”
Veilya’s face fell. “Not anymore, no.”
Seeing the way the other woman had grown sad, Martina decided against probing further. “What happened? Why am I here?”
The Völva is the one who answered. “I am afraid you may have to gain your answers from Loki.”
The teen frowned delicately. “Loki? Melody’s new dad?”
Veilya glanced between the two of them. “You have heard of him?”
Martina shrugged, suppressing a small feeling of jealousy. “Sure. She gushes over him all the time. Makes sense. If I had a dad that wanted me, I’d gush too.” She kicked the feeling aside. “He brought me here?”
The Völva nodded. “He did.”
Martina looked back to Veilya. She seemed so familiar. “I’ve seen you before…”
“We have met?”
It suddenly occurred to her why Veilya was so familiar. Immediately she tried to deflect. “Uh…no. I guess not.”
Something about the way Martina had deflected struck a familiar chord with Veilya. Asking gently, “Where have you seen me?”
“It’s…it’s why I’m on pills. I’m crazy.” Veilya sat down on the edge of Martina’s bed and just stared at her. After a few reluctant moments the teen sighed, “I saw you in a dream.”
“That is not crazy.” Both eyebrows were raised in Veilya’s direction. “You know what is a dream and what is reality, that is not insanity.”
Mumbling, “Except sometimes I have dreams while I’m awake.”
“Was I in one of those waking dreams?” Martina refused to look at her as she moved her head up and down just once. With that reluctant confirmation Veilya asked, “What did you see?”
“It--…” Martina paused. She huffed. Then she pulled in a breath for courage. “There was a floating statue…and the road under my feet glowed with different colors…and…” She mumbled the rest.
“Martina?”
She huffed again. “There was this large building in the distance that looked like an old church pipe organ. Still not crazy?”
Veilya blinked and considered the description. She wasn’t certain what a pipe organ was but the other structures were very familiar. “No. It sounds like Asgard.”
Martina’s eyes bulged. “…it’s real?”
The priestess nodded with a small smile. “You are a seer.”
The frown was back, since that sounded like some sort of fortune teller title. “What’s that?”
“You will sometimes see things before they happen.”
The teen tried to laugh. “That would be the crazy talk that gets you locked up.”
Veilya shook her head. “Not where I come from.”
The Völva stood up and approached the girl. “Nor I. May I have your hands?”
Martina glanced at Veilya before allowing the Völva to take her hands. The red-haired woman closed her eyes for a few moments before a small smile curled her lips. “You are on the path of priestess.”
Veilya stiffened in surprise. But it was also a realization. Either Martina would return to Vanaheim with the Völva …or she would come to Asgard with her. It was a choice, just like Yggdrasil had stated. But to have a possible future on Asgard, the choice had already been made.
Martina pulled her hands back as she looked between the two of them. “What’s a priestess?” That title sounded even more bizarre than the first one.
Looking this girl over, Veilya felt the stirrings of both sympathy and empathy. “It is what I am. I grew up like you, not knowing what I was or why I sometimes saw things in dreams. I journeyed to Vanaheim to learn how to use my gift, so that I would one day be able to use it to counsel others.”
The teen considered her words before asking slowly. “…so…I get to come with you to Asgard?”
“If that is what you wish.”
Martina thought it over for about two seconds. To be able to get away from here and their shrinks and their drugs. To go somewhere where she wasn’t considered a mutant freak or crazy. Sign her up. She nodded jerkily a few times.
Fury walked in, flanked by Maria Hill, and put an end to the conversation. With their arrival Veilya stood up and forced a small smile to her face even though for whatever the reason she felt wary.
“Good to see you awake.”
Her smile broadened a bit as she expressed her gratitude, “I thank you for allowing me to recover here.”
Fury jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I assume you want a lift back to Stark’s Tower.” Since that was where all of those that came from Asgard were being housed.
She nodded in agreement. “If that is not too much trouble.”
Nick nodded slightly to Maria who took a step closer. The two teenage boys who were both mutants were being kept in a room a few levels down until arrangements could be made with Xavier since their families weren’t claiming them. Maria invited, “Miss Suarez, if you will come with us--…”
One of the Einherjar interrupted her. “Prince Loki has ordered that the girl shall not leave this room.”
Fury raised an eyebrow. “Well she’s a citizen of this planet so it’s not Prince Loki’s call to make.”
The Einherjar just silently crossed their arms, their expressions stony.
Veilya looked around the room before she shook her head to herself and murmured, “…be careful.”
Nick turned to her, his octave higher, “Why? I don’t want to make an enemy out of him? How about you give me something other than vague threats?”
Her face reflected her incredulity. “He will tear your organization apart.”
The Director made a dismissive noise. “You think he can take SHIELD on and win?”
“You saw what he did. Yes, I do.” Then she gave his eye a second look. No matter what he may say, he wasn’t dismissive of the damage that Loki could do. “We both do.”
“But not the way you think.” Everyone turned their heads to observe and listen as the Völva stepped forward. “He will destroy your organization internally, break down your various methods of support both financial and political, until you and those like you are little more than a group of aimless, moorless hero wannabees in snazzy black outfits.”
He gave her a wary look. “And what are you, another fortune teller?”
Veilya silently sucked in a breath sharply.
The Völva just smiled in amusement. “Something like that.”
“Prove it.”
Ordinarily a Völva would do no such thing. But she was among mortals who did not understand the Nine so she indulged him. “The Einherjar relieving the two warriors here will arrive in 2 minutes and…12 seconds.” Fury glanced at his watch. “While we wait, I shall impart a bit of advice for you to do with as you please. The time for alternating sides has ended. They tried to kidnap his daughter.” This time it was Nick who sucked in a sharp breath. “Choose your allegiances carefully, Nicholas Fury. He has dismantled greater organizations than this for less reasons.” Maria silently stiffened.
Fury schooled his expression. “And what exactly am I choosing?”
The Völva considered his choices before explaining, “Either you are on the Avenger’s side…or you are on SHIELD’s side.”
“I think you have the wrong idea. SHIELD supports the Avengers.”
“Yes, and this morning while you had ordered your Avengers to deal with an escaped experiment, men used that timing to attempt to abduct the children from the orphanage this girl came from. How is he, or your Avengers, going to interpret that?” Fury silently sobered while the Völva continued, “I do wonder how they were able to infiltrate your ranks.” Maria froze in place as well. “Not to worry, Loki will figure it out.” Nick’s eye glanced up as two AEsir warriors walked in, precisely at the time she said they would. The Völva turned to Veilya. “Should the girl stay or come with us?”
Martina gave Veilya a hopeful look and the Vanir smiled. “She should come with us.”
The Völva nodded and the three females disappeared a moment later via silent teleport.
***
Melody awoke with a gasp, realized someone was holding her, and immediately started to struggle. “NO!! I want Loki!! Let me go, let me go, letmego--…”
“Melody.”
She froze and blinked, realizing that the familiar casual armor was present, the arms wrapped around her were firm like coiled steel yet gentle. She warily peeked up and saw Loki’s face, his green eyes worried. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him as tightly as she could. He murmured reassuring words softly while he rubbed her back and waited for her to calm down.
Having suspected that she would awaken afraid, he’d requested that no one else was in the room with him. He’d retreated to his own room, monitoring her carefully for when whatever drug had been used on her started to wear off.
Once she calmed down enough to loosen her grip a little, he spoke, “You need not be frightened again.” Her little fingers started grasping at his clothes so he magically retrieved her stuffed cat. She instantly wrapped an arm around the toy without letting him go. But the added security seemed to finally help her relax against him. “This is never going to happen again.”
She buried half her face in her toy. “Don’t wanna go back.”
His green eyes flashed at the thought, both of what happened but also at the thought of allowing her to be sent away again. “You will not and to Hel with what anyone else thinks about it.”
Her brown eyes peeked curiously, hopeful. “Is El here? Are we leaving now?”
They say timing was everything. It was also the most inconvenient burden at times. They needed to be here at least until the elves arrived with their ship. That would provide them the extra ship incase Asgard refused to transport the girls, as well as the spare transport to take the Starlings home once he cured them of Amora’s influence and the Vanir ship could be returned to Vanaheim.
The sorcerer, the reason any of them were here in the first place, still hadn’t been found. But eventually they would need to return to Asgard, even if the sorcerer was permitted to live in the short term. With Wilson’s insanity it was only a matter of time before he returned and sooner or later Loki would find a way to deal with him.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “We are not leaving just yet and currently she is with the parentals, as she says.”
Melody giggled very quietly at the word. But then she frowned in worry. “Is she safe?”
“I made certain her room was safe and my familiar, Abyss, is with her.” He damned his shortsightedness for not taking the same precaution with Melody. But he had thought she would be safe among mortals with similar abilities. Nor had he thought the enemy would react so quickly. An oversight and he would kick his own ass if he could. “However, in the morning I—well no, it technically is morning already.” Another soft giggle followed by a yawn. “In a couple of hours I will be making arrangements with a human group to name myself as legal guardian for both of you.”
She peered up at him, her eyes just a bit wider. “Then she gets to come?”
If he wasn’t already wrapped around her little finger prior to now he certainly was from that look. “Yes, whether I have the forms in hand or not.”
She glanced around. “It’s safe here?”
Loki tilted his head slightly towards the door. “I have installed runes in my rooms.” No doubt Sigyn would be expanding that protection throughout the building. “There are other rooms--…”
Her grip instantly tightened and she started to shake her head and repeat, “No, no, no--…”
“Shh…” He rubbed her back and waited until she calmed down and was paying attention again. “I was going to say they are available if you want them but I am not forcing you to go anywhere.”
She frowned and shook her head. “Wanna sleep here with you.”
He grinned a bit and tapped her nose. “Then you can and will.” She smiled a little. “Sigyn is here.”
Melody’s smile grew a bit more. “She is? I like her.”
Loki gave her an approving nod. “I am glad. Her daughter is here now. I think the two of you will get along.”
She considered that. She’d miss Martina but it would be nice to having another friend. “Is she older than me?”
“A little bit.” A century or so but who was counting?
Her brown eyes dropped to look at his armor and a random thought popped into her brain. “Does Sigyn fight like you do?”
Loki nodded. Their styles weren’t the same, but he had more similarities with her fighting style that with an AEsir warrior. “She is quite skilled in defending herself. She will be able to protect you as well.”
Melody considered all the other people who could be good protectors. “Willow?”
Immediately he agreed, “Yes, she is here and very safe.”
She frowned slightly. “Tony?”
Now Loki was amused and he hedged a bit. “Mmmmm…he is safe if he is not drinking and not distracted.”
Her attention immediately diverted to what he’d said earlier. “What’s a familiar?”
He was now thoroughly amused at the random way questions were popping into her head. “Abyss is a magical cat. You might like him.”
“Is he nice?”
Loki wrinkled his nose a bit as he considered the word. “Ahh…he is a very snarky cat.”
Melody blinked. “Snarky? He talks?”
He tapped her nose with a finger. “Just wait. Soon you will beg him to stop.” Melody giggled again.
A knock alerted Melody to a presence before Sigyn entered with a small smile. “Yes?” The question was in reference to Loki sending out one of his doubles. All the illusion did was crook his finger at her, then vanish.
Melody grinned brightly and waved from the safety of Loki’s arms. “Hi, Sigyn!”
“Hello, sweetie.” Sigyn gave her a gentle smile before glancing at Loki. “The mortals are stumbling their way in.”
He frowned a bit at the way she phrased that. “Any injuries?”
She gave a dismissive shrug. “Tired and sore seemed to be the worst of it. Your brother, however, was bouncing around like a hyper puppy.” Loki snorted, unsurprised. A good battle seemed to give his brother more energy, not less.
Melody bounced where she sat. “I get to sleep here now!”
Loki tickled her ribs lightly, making her giggle. “A good thing the bed is big.”
Sigyn considered the bed. “True. Unless Bragi or Talia decide they wish to join us.”
So Loki thought about that. Melody was the youngest of all of them, but any child could have nightmares and he wasn’t about to forbid any of them seeking him out in the middle of the night. “Ah. I could expand the bed.”
Sigyn’s deep blue eyes were examining the rest of the space. “Or the room. Perhaps put extra beds here and here.”
Loki smiled and nodded. “Now that is a brilliant idea.”
Melody perked up with interest. “Bunk beds?” She’d always wanted one of those. They’d looked like fun.
He frowned down at her. “What is a bunk bed?”
The little girl scrunched up her face a bit as she thought about how to describe it. “Its two beds on top of each other.”
The light seemed to brighten for Sigyn first who supplied a possible AEsir equivalent. “Troop beds in the training dormitory.” He and Thor had both gone through the training. But they were princes first, so they hadn’t joined the others in the dormitory.
“I see.” Sigyn held out her arms in invitation and Melody let herself be transferred so Loki could work. Neither left, watching as he started to push the walls further and further away until there was a good 25 foot clearance from wall to wall.
Melody’s brow slowly furrowed in thought. “What happens to the other rooms?”
Sigyn grinned and started counting out loud as she stepped from the doorway to the far wall that was being shared by Thor’s quarters. Then she walked back and out the door, Melody in her arms. She started counting again and didn’t even get to ten before they were in front of Thor’s door. With a wink she opened the door to show the girl that Thor’s room was still completely intact.
“How??”
Walking back into the room to see Loki working on the beds, she picked up a small decorative box to illustrate her description. “Imagine that this is the room. Four sides equals the four walls. With the spell Loki is using, the sides do not change, just everything inside of it.” She pointed up. “Do you see the light? Even as the room expanded the distance from the light to the door has not changed.”
Melody considered the four walls, and thought that if they were fixed, then so was the floor and the ceiling. “Because it is attached to something fixed.”
Sigyn smiled, delighted at such a bright child. “Correct.”
She looked back over Sigyn’s shoulder. “So…the door can’t be moved.” The elf nodded. “That is right. Loki is not moving the walls. He is creating more space in between the walls.” There were ways to do it, of course, but further spells would be needed throughout the entire building to keep it from shaking apart.
“Can he create more rooms?” Melody asked curiously.
“Not without damaging a building built like this. The walls to create new rooms would be attached to the fixed walls…a fixed attachment in a flux state is unstable.”
Melody considered that answer. “Soo…the bunk beds can’t be attached to the wall.”
Sigyn’s smile only grew as she nodded. “You are a very clever little girl.”
“Thank you. You explain things really good.”
Loki took a step back and declared, “There.”
Sigyn examined the four beds, one that was floating above the other. But it was deceptive. The top bed couldn’t be pushed out of position. She walked forward, looking at the colors in the room and on the master bed. She did some tweaking to three of the beds, giving the covers and sheets color. She lifted an eyebrow at Loki and he took the hint, adding small stands and lamps next to the beds. She swept behind him with a few touches so the space wasn’t so stark, one bed with darker tones that would appeal to a boy and three with softer tones.
Melody pointed to the top bunk. “El would want that one, but not that color. She doesn’t like girly colors.”
Sigyn paused to consider that before asking, “What color does she like?”
“Black,” Loki muttered. Melody nodded vigorously in agreement.
Sigyn lifted a surprised eyebrow but he just shrugged. She swallowed a small laugh. “A girl after your own heart.”
She went with jewel tones of purples and blacks, at least for now. She could always adjust it if the other girl hated the combination. She still recalled when she was in her youth and she had some very particular tastes.
…Loki still did.
“Can I go see?” Sigyn put her down and Melody immediately went over to investigate.
From outside the door a small voice called out, “Fader?”
A delicate voice also asked, “Mother?”
“Come in,” Sigyn invited.
Two blond heads peeked inside, saw what Melody was inspecting, and joined the other girl.
Talia looked up at her mother. “Are these for us?”
Sigyn smiled and ran the palm of her hand lightly over her daughter’s head. “For anytime you wish to sleep here. This is Melody.” Melody turned to wave silently at the two children, before she yawned again.
Bragi jumped onto the lower bed and sprawled across the bed with a happy sigh. Talia winked silently at Melody, ignored the ladder that led to the top bunk, and leapt towards the small stand. She used her toes to push herself up into the air and landed on the top bunk above Bragi.
The boy muttered, “Show off,” softly.
Melody’s jaw hit the floor before she squared her shoulders and moved back to copy. Loki was behind her immediately, both hands on her shoulders to keep her grounded. “Uh, no. That is strictly an elven ability. Do not copy her or you will break your arm.”
She turned around and pouted up at Loki. “Do I have to go to school today?”
He grinned and mussed her hair. “Not today, no.” There was little point. School records didn’t transfer between realms and soon she would be learning all sorts of new things.
Sigyn tilted her head slightly in consideration. “I think I remember a few lessons from my primer. Plus it would be good to start teaching Melody of the Nine realms.”
Melody crawled into the lower bunk after retrieving her toy. “El, too?”
Loki nodded. “Once she arrives, yes.”
“We know all those things,” Bragi chimed in. There might have been a hint of complaint hidden in there.
“Talia has her lessons in seidr.”
With a frown Bragi looked from one adult to the other. “What about me?”
Loki gave him a small smile. “Sigyn and I will be assisting you in your defensive lessons.”
Sigyn was quick to chime in when Bragi started to look a little too excited. “And runes, of course.”
The pout was out in full force now. “Aww…but fader…”
Loki was sure to stop him before he pulled in enough steam to start, backing Sigyn up. “Fighting lessons are not a replacement for learning your runes or regular schooling. You may not like them, but you will still learn them.”
Since it was two against one, Bragi sighed. “Okay.”
The mage contemplated the sleeping arrangement since the children seemed to be settling in. “Hmm, if all the children wish to sleep in here while we are on Midgard, perhaps their previous room could be converted so they do not have to leave this floor for lessons.”
Sigyn nodded in agreement. “An excellent idea. But not the spare bathroom, that must be maintained for our use.”
He blinked at her. “Why?”
Sigyn’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why? In the best scenario we are a family of 4 girls and 2 boys…sometimes 5 girls and 1 boy…and only 1 bathroom, are you insane?”
Loki thought about that nightmare and settled for saying, “Ah.”
Melody was already passed out on her bed, asleep after all that had happened so early in the morning. Talia sat up. “Can I have my spellbook?”
Loki nodded and pulled her things out of storage. Soon she was reading contentedly.
With a sigh Bragi turned onto his side, but he frowned when Loki mischievously pulled a large book out of storage for the boy to see. “Runes?”
“In a way. This book belonged to your Uncle Thor a very long time ago.” When Thor hit his youth he threw out all the things designed for children, not wanting to have toys or books for babies in his rooms. Loki had rescued it from the pile and for some reason decided to keep it.
“He likes books?”
Loki snorted. “He adored runes as much as you do.” He opened the book to the first page. “Do you see the runes?”
Bragi sat up a little and nodded, curious. “Uh huh.”
“Above them is a question. When you use the runes to spell the correct answer, the story will begin.” The pictures moved and the book was set so it would tell him the story, but only one page at a time. The pages were stuck together so there was no skipping ahead. When the story was done the book reset the questions to always change so there was no cheating by memorizing the answers.
“What kind of story?” Bragi asked warily.
“An adventure. Thor may not like runes but he loved this story as a child.” It was a simple tale designed for children Bragi’s age. The warrior won…the troll didn’t.
***
Thor almost trudged into the gym area. He didn’t like sparring by himself. He liked it even less that his solitude was due to Veilya being unconscious. He would go see her in a couple of hours, as he had done every day. He stopped in surprise to see Veilya not only awake but inside of the practice ring. A girl in her teen years was sitting on the matted surface, watching attentively as the Vanir talked about her staff.
The seer’s blue eyes moved to look at him, warmth in her gaze. “Prince Thor,” she greeted.
He basked for a moment in that warmth, not recalling responding to that expression in a woman’s eyes before now. He nodded to her. “It is good to see you awaken.”
Veilya smiled silently for several seconds before she jerked slightly as if to wake herself up. “Uh, this is Martina. Martina, this is Prince Thor of Asgard.”
Martina was all bright smiles and a bit starry-eyed. “You’re part of the Avengers??”
He smiled and nodded. “Aye, I am.”
She pushed herself onto her feet, but was a little wobbly still and used the wall for support. “Wow, that is so awesome. Is your hammer really as heavy as it looks?”
He patted Mjolnir. “Only those worthy may lift it. For all others it is an impossible weight.”
Veilya moved out of the sparring ring to retrieve a chair, having the girl sit in it before whispering, “Are you alright?” She studied her for a moment and took her mortal constitution into consideration. “Perhaps we should let you rest for today.”
Martina immediately gave her a pleading look. “I’m okay. Please let me stay.”
The Völva had teleported the pair of them here, glanced at the staff and the supplied work out attire stored in a cubby, before leaving without them.
Light blue eyes looked her over. “You can watch a warm up session but then that is all for today.” Martina silently nodded in agreement. Veilya turned her attention back to Thor. “I was introducing Martina to some very basic defensive moves.”
He set Mjolnir aside. “Perhaps I can be of some assistance.”
She gave him a slightly coy smile in return. “Perhaps you can.”
They spent some time going through the exercises that covered all of the basic maneuvers.
As one they backed up a step to call an end to the session. Martina had been silently fascinated, her tone wistful. “Wow. Wish I could be as good as you. As either of you.”
Thor gave her an encouraging look. “With practice you someday can.”
Martina shrugged a bit. “Maybe.” She was a klutz and she had ADD. She didn’t feel optimistic about that.
Veilya wrapped an arm around Martina and gently pulled the girl onto her feet. “We need to speak with Mr Stark and find a room for you.”
Blinking in surprise. “I get to stay here? Okay.”
Before they could escape Thor snagged one of Veilya’s hands and gallantly kissed her knuckles. “I shall see you later, fair maiden.”
Veilya couldn’t quite decide if she was feeling offended or smitten from such words. She decided to focus on the sentiment and replied quietly, “Until then.”
Martina’s sable eyes moved from one to the other, amused. She waited until Thor had left before asking, “Are you two dating?”
Veilya cleared her throat. “Uh, not currently. We have not known one another for very long.”
Tongue firmly in cheek. “Sure doesn’t look like that to me.” Veilya nudged Martina lightly with her hip, who grinned.
***
El blinked as she woke up before reaching over with a groan to slap her alarm. Snooze engaged, she turned over and pulled her pillow over her head.
‘You should get ready for learning.’
The girl in the bed froze before sitting up with a gasp, her dark hair a mess of staticky locks. Abyss sat on top of her table next to her computer, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. El frowned and glanced around for the distinctly male voice, swallowing nervously. “Hello?”
‘Yes?’
El blinked, still not awake yet. “No way.” She crawled on top of her covers towards the cat. “I--…” She sat back on her heels and rubbed her eyes. “Okay, this is not possible. It’s just not. Did--…” El shook her head, certain she was going crazy.
An amused male voice asked. ‘Did I just speak? Yes.’
Her arms dropped to her sides as her mouth fell open. “That…no way.”
Abyss tilted his head to one side. ‘I am Loki’s familiar, remember? Why is that so unusual?’
El’s brow furrowed as she struggled to kick start her brain. She hated mornings. “Oh. Yeah. That’s right. Abyss. Didn’t know he had a familiar until last night.”
Amusement filled Abyss’ voice. ‘Until quite recently neither did he.’
El giggled. “Bet he was surprised to see you.”
‘Surprised. Horrified. Something like that.’
The giggle spread into a grin. “Awesome.” It was pretty funny to imagine the unflappable Loki being…flapped. “So, why are you here?”
Abyss got up and started to walk around, sniffing lightly at a few things in curiosity. ‘I am here to ensure your safety until Loki comes for you.’
The amusement vanished. “What happened?” Loki wasn’t a worry-wart. “Seriously, Loki would go into overprotective mode unless something happened.”
‘You shall have to wait and ask him.’ Abyss responded simply. Of course he could tell her everything he’d seen, but he wouldn’t. That was for her new sire to do.
She froze to glare at the cat. “You know that’s not reassuring, right?”
‘I know.’
A gasp from the doorway.
El turned enough to see her mother in the doorway, her face as white as a sheet. A second later she slammed the door and locked it from the outside. El sighed through her nose. “Shit.”
***
He was on the roof of the Tower for a reason. It was morning, a few minutes before the 9 o’clock appointment. There was a cool breeze in the air, rustling through his hair. He had planned to meet some mortals but he’d been surprised to see Midnight Wind. Brushing a gentle hand along his nose. “Why are you here?” The horse whickered. “I misspoke then. Why are you still here, old friend?”
With a few motions and twitches Midnight Wind told him. Loki grinned and chuckled. “I see. Well, no doubt it is very amusing to watch panicked mortals.” While waiting for Loki to awaken and visit, Midnight Wind had been wandering through Central Park. The horse would be spotted several times grazing on the grass. Rather than allow himself to get caught he would wait until the humans were close before spreading his wings and flying off.
Because it was fun.
“Loki.”
Loki didn’t turn his head at the sound of Thor’s voice. Midnight Wind bobbed his head up and down. “I thank you for bringing Sigyn as well as your assistance in the battle, old friend, but it is time to go home.” Midnight Wind nudged his chest with his face. “I will return soon and I promise if I leave Asgard you will come with me.”
Midnight Wind backed up a few paces and spread his wings. He pawed at the roof under his hooves before he took off running and flew into the sky. A moment later he disappeared through the rift that opened before him and he was gone. Loki didn’t turn, calling out over his shoulder, “You do not wish to be here right now, Thor.”
A different voice responded. “We’ll take our chances, Locks…was there a freaking Pegasus on my roof??”
Now he turned to see Thor, along with Tony and Bruce. He ignored the question and crossed his arms, his face carefully blank. “Something you wanted?”
Thor was the one who answered, “We are here to aid you, brother.”
Loki warned, “This would be a moment of gray morality.”
Tony snorted, sunglasses perched on his nose. “Dude, you live in the gray, are you kidding?”
Thor didn’t veer his gaze as he stated firmly, “I stand with my family.”
Loki lifted an eyebrow. “This may make me an enemy of your allies, Thor.” Which certainly would have made Thor do the exact opposite on any other day. Thor was not a man who wanted to look bad in front of others.
But Thor didn’t even flinch. “So be it.”
The mage frowned. “Why such easy agreement?” Thor never would have made such a leap for him during the invasion.
Bruce volunteered, “We pretty much put things together.” Loki just silently lifted his other eyebrow. “You had to save Melody at the same time the worms escaped.”
Tony followed up, “And JARVIS told us you returned with your kid in tow…unconscious. Not hard to fill in the gaps.”
There was the barest hint of a growl in Bruce’s tone now, “If SHIELD is behind it, we don’t want any part of them.”
Loki considered there words carefully. “I do not know that with certainty yet.”
“Exactly. Yet. We need to know, too.” Loki silently glanced behind them where the other three Avengers weren’t standing. Tony shrugged. “Yeah, we kept them out of it. Widow and Hawk would be caught in the middle.”
“And the other one?” The one that Loki certainly didn’t miss.
Tony smirked. “It’s Cap, do you have to ask?”
The approaching helicopter put an end to the conversation. Rather than touch down, it hovered a foot off the ground. A spry man in his mid-fifties, wearing a suit, leapt lightly down. “Mr. Odinson?”
Loki nodded and approached, leaving the others behind. “Mr. Morgan, a pleasure.”
“How can we be of assistance?” The man asked crisply as he opened a leather bound notebook to write down the request. Electronics could be hacked. For his business, nothing could compromise his hard copy.
“Two problems need resolving as quickly as possible.”
Mr Morgan glanced at the figures standing behind Loki. “Are there--…”
Loki waved a hand slightly in a dismissive gesture. “I am not interested in what has to be done to accomplish it and money is not a concern.”
“Your new associates might object to some of our actions,” came the grave warning.
The mage shrugged. “Let them.”
Mr Morgan nodded and returned his attention to his invoice. “Your two problems, sir?”
“To the first problem. Amelia Thompkins. Currently her biological parents have legal custody. Melody Thompkins. Currently she is in your legal system. Both are mutants, sisters, and both are under my protection.” He could supply more information about them if needed but if these people were as skilled as he thought they were, they wouldn’t ask for more.
He scribbled on the paper. “You desire full guardianship?”
Loki nodded sharply. “I do.”
Mr Morgan frowned delicately. He knew enough about Loki to know he was not a man bound to this planet. “Why could you not just whisk them away?”
Crossing his arms, looking slightly annoyed. “Timing is a further inconvenience.”
The man went back to writing. “Guardianship over the youngest will be the easiest to arrange.”
“You would think that.” Mr Morgan sent Loki a questioning glance. “There seems to be a military faction interested in claiming her.” It didn’t matter to Loki how they were circumvented as long as it happened. “For both of their safety I need to be awarded emergency custody until something more permanent is arranged, backdated to now if at all possible. If not, oh well.”
A few more scribbles before the question was asked, “The second problem, sir?”
Instead of responding Loki produced a piece of parchment out of the ether and handed it over. Mr Morgan read through the information, considered a couple of things before looking up slowly. “Such information would not be obtained easily.”
“…and ordinary funds would be insufficient?”
Mr Morgan considered who would have to provide the service. “If you were to offer the scepter you possess--…”
Loki cut him off immediately, well aware Thor could hear them. “No. The scepter comes back with me. It has no business remaining here.” He paused for a moment to mull over a few things that he did have in storage that he would be willing to part with. “I do, however, have something different to offer.” In his hand appeared a sphere made out of gold and encrusted with polished stones. It was one of the wonders crafted by the dwarves that he had stolen from a dragon’s hoard a very long time ago. The dragon was still not happy with him. “It grants wishes. No more than two, but the price for those wishes is a steep price to pay.”
Mr Morgan accepted the offered item with a nod. The way he held it, it was obviously not something meant for him so he was careful with it without being protective. “With your permission, Mr. Loki, I will get started.” Loki nodded silently in response and watched the man board the helicopters. Moments later and they were gone.
Loki turned to join the others, his expression schooled. Tony was looking at him over his sunglasses. “Dude. You have people.”
The mage gave the inventor an amused look. “People?”
Tony nodded several times. “Yeah. Nefarious guys in suits who do morally gray stuff. People.”
“Ah. Then yes, I do.”
Thor was frowning heavily. “What is the price?”
The two men looked between the two brothers blankly, not standing close enough to hear the conversation Loki had just had. “The wish eats away the wisher’s lifespan.” Thor’s face was silently questioning. “Two decades for every wish.”
Tony looked between Loki to the spec in the distance that represented the departing helicopter. “That stone grants wishes?”
Bruce grimaced. “That could create a lot of problems.”
Loki shrugged dismissively. “Not to worry, there is only one wish left before it burns itself out. I neglected to mention that two wishes is the most that could ever be made.”
“What wish did you make?”
Loki just silently shrugged this time and said nothing. Losing two decades was nothing to an Asgardian. He’d wished to be able to meet Hela. After that wish, he’d been capable of walking the golden paths.
Bruce stayed focused on practicality. “Can they do it?”
“They are tied to some of the most powerful mortals on your planet. I will be disappointed if they cannot accomplish such a task.” He was fairly confident they used runes in their contracts. Possibly even the darker arts to solve problems. But he wasn’t going to ask. He wouldn’t have to determine ethics if he remained oblivious to how they accomplished their successes.
Tony was studying the mage. “So what was the other thing they’re doing?”
Loki quietly smirked. “In the interest of plausible deniability, it would be better if you did not receive an answer.”
“Dude, I’ll take my chances.”
Green eyes flicked in his direction. “I requested some information regarding this military presence, Colonel Nicholi, to deal with the situation.”
Tony blinked. “Uh, about that.” Loki honed in on him like a hunter stalking his prey and Tony broke out in a cold sweat. “I have a feeling the guys you met are the same ones I’ve been collecting dirt on. And no offense to your people but I might know more than they can acquire.”
“Such as,” was the too casual response.
“The World Security Council, the asshats that are just supposed to give advice to SHIELD, are the ones who hold that colonel’s collar and leash.” Loki’s expression turned silently stony. Thor suddenly looked wary but Tony carried on, unaware, “Pretty sure they went around Fury to assign Sutton to nab you.”
“Mmm.” Which was what he had suspected. He was gathering details on them, not Nicholi, and it was why the cost of obtaining that information had such a high price.
Loki thrust out an arm and slammed his palm against the metal cover over the a/c unit next to Tonys’ head without damaging it, glaring at the inventor. Tony jumped. Thor and Bruce took the hint and beat a hasty retreat.
Tony blinked and seemed to realize that not passing along this information sooner almost resulted in Melody being kidnapped. “Locks…Loki, I’m sorry, man. I really am. I totally forgot.”
Loki cocked his head slightly, his expression giving away nothing of his thoughts. “A certified genius that is forgetful?”
Stark’s smile didn’t even hold a whisper of amusement. “Do you know how often I have to program reminders into JARVIS so I remember to do crap?”
“I assume this meeting with…Xavier, was before her attempted abduction.” Tony bobbed his head up and down. “Hours or days?”
Tony swallowed. “…days.” Loki clenched both fists and his eyes narrowed as they flashed emerald. “It’s been a shitty week, okay? C’mon, I wasn’t trying to keep anything secret from you.”
Loki lifted both eyebrows. “You had a shitty week?”
Immediately Tony held up both hands. “Right. Never mind. Your shit trumps my shit.”
Slowly Loki tilted his head in the other direction, his eyes distant for a moment. “Do you recall what happened the last time someone decided to lie to me by omission?” Tony silently frowned in confusion. The crooked little smile made him shiver. “Of course you do. The result was our initial introduction,” Loki purred darkly.
“Secrets and lies equals Loki on a rampage. Check.” Loki raised a hand towards Tony’s head, then paused in silent question. The inventor just nodded once. Loki let the backs of his fingers rest lightly against Tony’s temple and riffled through Stark’s memories just enough to find that meeting with Xavier before leaving his mind.
The information assimilated, Loki considered the other man for a moment before he ordered mildly, “Do not ever keep such information about either of my girls from me again.”
Tony nodded quickly. “You got it.”
“We are friends, Anthony, but do be careful. Break your word to me and we can no longer be friends. Such a sad day that would be for your race since you are the reason I have a tolerance for any of you.”
Tony felt proud but also burdened with that kind of weight resting on his shoulders. But he felt the need to ease the tension so he deflected. “You don’t like Bruce? Not even a little?”
Loki started walking towards the elevator that would take them off the roof. “He is acceptable when he is not green.”
Stark of course followed and the banter began as they fell back into step. “Tash is pretty awesome.”
A hand gestured dismissively. “She I am convinced is not human. That would be a compliment to her.”
The pair of them paused in front of the doors, waiting for them to open. After a few moments of delay Tony asked, “Cap?”
Loki didn’t glance in his direction. “No. If he was the only one I interacted with I would have left a long time ago.”
Tony’s expression turned serious. Everyone loved Captain America, including his own father. Loki didn’t. The trickster tolerated the man the same way that the inventor did. “And that’s why we’re friends, Locks.”
‘Loki.’
The two men turned to see an illusion form of Abyss. Loki’s eyebrows hiked. “Can you perform all the spells I can?”
Abyss moved his shoulder blade, his approximation of a shrug. ‘Most of them.’
Tony looked absolutely horrified. “A cat that can pull off your spells. Pbbfft, no big deal.” Loki silently nudged him with his elbow to shut up.
‘The sire and dam for the kit are no longer happy.’
Loki could be annoyed. Aggravated. A bunch of other emotions. Instead he smirked in amusement. “You talked in front of them?”
Abyss replied, ‘I was not aware they were so near.’
After a moment of consideration Loki just shrugged dismissively. His appointment was finalized, he’d intended to retrieve her anyway. “Just as well. Reassure El I will be there presently…” Then he smirked evilly, “…with Thor.”
--------------------
Up Next: The Thompkins get a visit; Odin and Freyja discuss the painting; Amora gets some visitors |
“I’m serious Ruby,” Weiss reaffirmed to Ruby, a little louder. Maybe opening up might not be such a bad thing?
“I don’t doubt that I’m just very surprised. Your first impression certainly didn’t tip me off,” Ruby giggled a little.
“What’s funny? I see no humor here,” Weiss said, her first instinct always being to pull away aggressively.
“Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you, more at the situation,” Ruby said nervously.
“And what’s funny about the situation?” Weiss pressed, though she felt this conversation wouldn’t last much longer as the familiar sense of heat was attempting to climb its way back to the forefront of her mind.
“Just like, I can’t help but feel the coincidences are getting a little too many,” Ruby thought. Weiss peeked out from her curled knees, mainly because she could practically feel the sheer desire burning between them again.
“What are you getting at?” Weiss asked, trying to keep her eyes from drifting away from Ruby’s face, lest they go downwards.
“I wouldn’t mind if we, you know, were a couple after this is over?” Ruby asked with dangerous hope in her voice.
“I thought I shut that down earlier,” Weiss started, but Ruby quickly started speaking again which forced Weiss to stop out of her taught politeness.
“I know you did, but people are going to talk. We’ll come out, Yang and Blake will smell it, Yang isn’t exactly a quiet person, and then the rumors start. And I may be young, but I’m not stupid. You’ll be the targeted one,” Ruby explained, her impatience meant she sped up her speech pattern as she went.
“So what exactly is it you’re looking to extort from me?” Weiss accused, regretting not walking out of the bunker now.
“Nothing! I was going to suggest we at least pretend to be together so that nobody will threaten you! I’m not cruel, Weiss,” Ruby said, almost offended.
“Dolt! I don’t need you to protect me, I’ll be fine on my own!” Weiss shouted, but the sudden anger just added to the heat on her. Ruby took a deep breath in, and Weiss could see her shudder as she breathed in all of Weiss’s scent.
“I’m sorry. I’ll show just how sorry I am, if you’ll allow me,” Ruby proclaimed, reaching her hand toward Weiss.
“This isn’t fair…” Weiss practically sobbed, knowing she’ll be just as helpless to the heat in moments.
“Weiss, please, I’m trying… Let me help,” Ruby pleaded, putting her hand on Weiss’s unsuspecting shoulder. Weiss flinched but didn’t pull away.
“I don’t want your help, you’ve done enough,” Weiss resigned, and she could see how the comment hurt Ruby in her sad eyes.
“I won’t do more if you truly don’t want me to, I can resist it. I won’t just mindlessly… do it either. That feels wrong,” Ruby said, though Weiss highly doubted Ruby was strong enough to resist in her first ever rut.
“Don’t be stupid. Let’s just get through this, then I’ll go deal with my life and you can live on in yours,” Weiss said, letting her legs stretch out to uncover her front. She could see Ruby looking at her with hunger, though she was attempting to resist.
Ruby sighed, shaking in her head in clear frustration, but she moved to cup Weiss’s cheeks, which all but forced Weiss to stare Ruby in the eye. Ruby pulled Weiss into an almost bittersweet kiss, before of course biology took over. Ruby pulled Weiss into her lap, causing Weiss to shudder as Ruby’s dick was sandwiched between them. Weiss couldn’t help as she grinded herself against Ruby, pulling moans from both of them. Weiss could feel the tear tracks itching her face, but she ignored them in favor of trying to release the coil already forming in her lower gut.
“You are way too cute for your own good…” Ruby mumbled, pulling Weiss upwards to align them together.
“Don’t say such a call- oh!” Weiss was cut off as Ruby pushed her hips down, and it forced her breath out of her in a pleasant surprise.
“What was that? I didn’t quite catch that,” Ruby was smirking into Weiss’s shoulder, and Weiss would be angry at the cheekiness if she wasn’t too busy trying to push back up against Ruby’s hands.
“Shut up and fuck me so we can get out of here,” Weiss demanded, but Ruby kept her hips steady.
“Beg. Beg me to fuck you,” Ruby said, despite her shaking hands telling Weiss she wanted to get on with it just as badly.
“Ruby, I swear to god-” Weiss started to complain, but Ruby reached between them and started to slowly circle Weiss’s clit. Weiss gasped, biting her lip to suppress the moan threatening to burst forth.
“Fine! Please, fuck me,” Weiss begged begrudgingly.
“More, beg more,” Ruby clearly had only half of her wits about her.
“Ruby, just please do it!” Weiss shouted, and Weiss guessed Ruby couldn’t wait any longer, because Ruby finally used one hand to bring Weiss’s hips up before slamming them back down.
Weiss moaned loudly, unable to care at that moment since her body finally got what it was so desperately craving. Ruby herself groaned in pleasure, before bringing her other hand back to Weiss’s hips to move Weiss up and down on her lap. Weiss held onto Ruby’s shoulders, at that point just along for the pleasurable ride. That was until Ruby leaned back, bringing Weiss down with her. Ruby forced Weiss to sit up, growling at her.
“Fuck yourself on me. I want to watch you lose yourself,” Ruby had lost herself to her desires, and Weiss had too, because she obliged.
Weiss held herself steady by balancing with her hands on Ruby’s lower chest, lifting herself up and down and back and forth. Weiss threw her head back in absolute ecstasy, she was close, but she needed just a little more. She could tell that Ruby was approaching the end as well, as one of her hands moved to stroke Weiss’s smaller than average breasts and the other started to push down on Weiss’s hips as she thrust up, trying to squeeze the knot inside.
After a few more moments, the knot finally popped inside, and Weiss all but screamed as her vision turned white as her hair. Ruby herself bit harshly into her own lips and tongue, causing her tongue to bleed, but Ruby didn’t really acknowledge the pain, only the pleasure. It took a bit for them to come down to earth again, because every time Weiss felt done, she’d feel a twitch, causing Weiss to flutter or shudder and that would cause more twitching. That faded too though eventually.
“How much longer will this go on?” Ruby asked, wondering what the time even was at this point.
“I think at least two more days of this, from what I know,” Weiss speculated, but she was drawing mostly a blank. That was when she was an alpha, but she had no idea if omegas went for the same length.
“Do you think we should try to get word that we’re in here?” Ruby asked, worry painted on her face.
“I’m sure Blake and Yang would have figured it out by now, it’s been a while,” Weiss gently attempted to separate herself from Ruby, and Weiss successfully pulled herself away with a whimper.
“Be careful Weiss, you okay?” Ruby asked, worried by Weiss’s whimper.
“I’m fine. Let’s just get through this,” Weiss said.
* * *
It took three more days for Weiss’s heat and Ruby’s rut to subside. Thankfully, Ruby kept to her promise and never marked Weiss, at least not with a mating mark. Weiss carefully put on her discarded uniform that she had come in with, and Ruby put on her clothing as well. Ruby hadn’t had her uniform on before it all went down, instead having a simple skirt and t-shirt. Weiss opened the bunker door, finding it was the dead of night and their roommates were asleep, though not for long, as they woke up to the sound of the bunker opening. Yang got up with a start, her face twisted in anger as she glared at Weiss, though it turned into a more confused frown as she approached.
“I was going to kill you, because I thought Ruby went into heat and you took advantage of that, but…” Yang seemed deflated, at least until Ruby crashed into Yang.
“Yang! I missed you!” Ruby hugged Yang, who attempted to pull herself away.
“Ruby, you fucking stink! Go take a shower!” Yang yelled, pushing Ruby away.
“Have Weiss go with you,” Blake commented, nose wrinkled.
“I’m not taking a shower at the same time as Ruby, that’s gross,” Weiss said, face red.
“What do you mean, isn’t Ruby your mate now?” Yang asked, confused.
“No, she’s not, it just happened,” Weiss said, pinching the top of nose in exasperation.
There was silence among the four, Yang and Blake were staring at Weiss, Weiss was staring at her shoes and Ruby was similarly looking anywhere that wasn’t a person. No one said anything as Ruby gathered some pajamas and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door, Weiss sat at the desk to wait her turn, and Yang and Blake returned to their beds. Yang eventually broke the silence as the water turned on.
“So, uh, Weiss, why exactly aren’t you two mates?” Yang asked, awkward.
“Why the hell would I be her mate? I barely know her,” Weiss answered, angry that now Yang was asking the same thing.
“You know that people are going to ask why the great Weiss Schnee is suddenly an omega. I think you should at least pretend to be with Ruby, for your own sake,” Yang said.
“Ruby said the same thing, but I’m fine on my own,” Weiss said, tired of the same thing being told to her twice.
“You won’t be,” Blake spoke up, seriousness in her tone rather than boredom.
“What do you mean? I’m not helpless,” Weiss snapped, angry that it was being insinuated that she couldn’t defend herself.
“You will be against multiple alphas at once. Not everyone is kind, very few are in fact. Do as Yang suggest, and it will be much easier. Trust me on that,” Blake said, as if she was speaking from experience, and Blake has been an omega all her life, so she probably does.
“You could do much worse than my sister. You might find that you quite like her. I always wanted to be rich, so if Ruby gets a rich girlfriend that’ll be perfect,” Yang surmised, smirking deviously.
“Shut up. When Ruby is out of the shower and I’ve had mine, I’ll think about it, but no promises,” Weiss relented, attempting to get them off her back.
With that, the water shut off, and Weiss gathered her own pajamas and waited for Ruby to come out. As she did, Weiss slipped past her into the bathroom, getting into the shower and cleaning the grime off her. She scrubbed herself as much as she could, trying to get rid of the scent of roses and strawberries all over her. She washed her long hair, hoping it wasn’t too wrecked after what happened, and found that it was returning to its silky texture thankfully. Eventually, Weiss supposed she was clean as she could be, turning off the water and hopping out. As she walked back out of the shower, she saw Ruby, Yang, and Blake looking at her expectantly.
“What?” Weiss asked, a little perturbed.
“Have you made a decision?” Ruby asked, hope in her voice.
“I… need more time to think on it,” Weiss said, shaking her head in dismissal before getting onto her bed.
“Alright. You should make it before we head out next morning, be prepared for some confrontation if you decline,” Yang warned, settling onto her own bed.
“Right,” Weiss shivered, she hated the idea of what alphas might do about her new status.
Weiss was thrust into a dream, a surprisingly pleasant one. She was the mother of many little children, running around with crimson or white hair, Ruby was sitting beside her watching the kids. Weiss felt warm and loved, and she felt more at home than she ever had in her life. Their little house in the countryside, enjoying a pleasant family life. Weiss woke up as the sun was rising and sat up. She heard movement, and Ruby appeared beside her.
|
Reasons Why I Should Confess To My Best Friend, Jung Wooyoung
Quickly flipping back through the paper of his notebook, San shot an apologetic look towards the students sitting nearby him in the library as the pages fluttered by. Choosing to kill time between classes by attempting to review his notes from the previous lecture, his mind had wandered off to a different challenge, pen scratching his stream of consciousness onto a random page. San wanted to make good on the promise he made to himself on sorting his feelings regarding his best friend and roommate and apparently the library was the lone place he could focus on the process.
On the fresh page in front of him, San selected a pink highlighter from the few writing utensils he managed to find floating around at the bottom of his backpack, doodling without purpose. Lecture notes? Boring. Love notes? Overwhelming. Calming translucent cotton candy swirls that seemed to waste an entire page for no other reason than San thought it looked pretty and reminded him of the summer Wooyoung had dyed his hair a pastel shade of—
Fuck.
San knew he was being harder on himself than he deserved. People had crushes all the time, ones that didn’t even seem plausible to have something to act on or a chance for a happy ending. Love was a challenge for more than college students struggling to balance a respectable GPA and ever-changing friendships. It was hardly something that should have been impacting San as much as he had let it, but as a self-proclaimed believer in true love, he felt a bit overwhelmed at the possibilities. To act impulsively could shift things in an unmanageable direction and the last thing San desired was to let that chance slip through his fingers without fully understanding what it meant to him.
Taking a look at the time on his phone, San figured it was best to pack up his backpack and head to his next lecture, thoughts about Wooyoung slightly more organized. Before he placed his notepad in the largest pocket, San flipped back to the list jotted on a random page, rereading his listed reasons before picking up his pen to add one more.
Settled into his last class of the day, San tried his best to remain attentive as his professor droned on about the importance of their next exam. He hadn’t been struggling in the course, but there was nothing better than seeing his hard work continue to pay off the further he reached in his undergraduate tenure. Between presentation slides, his phone buzzed inside his pocket, San carefully sliding the device out to read the illuminated screen.
Wooyoung
party tomorrow!!
Eye twitching at the thought of repeating a similar evening to the last barn burner that had Wooyoung dancing ever-so-sexily on a table, San stared at the keyboard, eyes darting between the letters that made up the word no. He hesitated, knowing that a dismissive quick response would bring out Wooyoung’s argumentative side, a conversation he would prefer to avoid. Taking a deep breath as he debated what to reply instead, San’s fingers hovered over the screen. It was as if he hadn’t made any progress at all that afternoon with his list of reasons why he should tell Wooyoung his true feelings, acting like agreeing to attend the party would reveal all of his deepest, darkest secrets. Luckily for San, he had real cause to turn the invitation down.
San
it’s a weeknight? i can’t
Wooyoung
what ? no you have to
San
i have this big test the day after
gotta study
Wooyoung
since when are you this serious about your classes…
San
sorry that i want a good grade
Wooyoung
i didn’t mean it like that it’s just
nvm
San didn’t know how to reply to that, afraid that he had pissed off Wooyoung by denying his request of having fun. His friend was never one to give up so quickly, competitive in everything to his core. As San debated his reply, another pair of messages were delivered.
Wooyoung
what if i let you wear the plain t shirt
will you go then?
San felt his heart twist in his chest. Wooyoung was… compromising? Meeting in the middle to accommodate what he thought would get San out of the house on a weeknight? The older man blinked a few times before rereading the message, the letters and symbols seeming to rearrange themselves into the shape of a white flag waving. Maybe he was crazy to read too into the message, but it was Wooyoung that sent those words. Wooyoung wanted San to come, even in an ugly, boring, stupid black t-shirt.
If only it were that simple, San thought. If only I trusted myself.
San
sorry woo
next one, i promise
Wooyoung
ok
San nearly wished Wooyoung would have just told him to fuck off instead.
***
The next day passed with the two roommates barely interacting, San choosing to study again at the library to emphasize his focus on the exam while Wooyoung was busy practicing for his contemporary dance class across campus. While Wooyoung would sometimes extend an invite for San to come keep him company as he danced, San was thankful he hadn’t said a word, worried he could no longer keep turning down possible time to spend together.
San expected some additional coaxing from their friend group to go to the party, usually swayed by peer pressure to join in for the debauchery at some random person’s house. Alas, his phone was uncharacteristically silent, a stray message from Yeosang buzzing near his textbook a couple times that day. Normally, San would question why Wooyoung hadn’t been blowing up his phone, sending random memes or asking him what they should order for dinner. However, there seemed to have been a slight shift in mood between them after San turned down attending the party occurring later that evening, the two little letters of ‘ok’ still remaining as the last text between them.
So… maybe San’s feelings were making things worse?
Staying on one of the quiet floors until the sun had set, San decided to head home from the library before he overstayed his welcome. While he felt like he had a pretty strong grip on the material, it wasn’t going to hurt to continue to review his notes in his quiet apartment before falling asleep that night. Taking a brief detour on the way back to pick up some takeout and snacks for his evening in, San made sure to select a couple items for Wooyoung as well, not wanting to show up empty handed when he knew Wooyoung was already feeling a hint of disappointment in San’s refusal to attend the party.
Using his keys to unlock the apartment, San pushed the door open to reveal Wooyoung sitting at their coffee table, an eyeshadow palette with a mirror propped up on a pile of textbooks with an assortment of makeup and brushes scattered around it. The television was on with the volume cranked to an absurd level, playing some random music videos that San knew Wooyoung enjoyed. His entrance hadn’t phased the younger man, Wooyoung still carefully sculpting something near his left eyelid. Wanting to be cautious as to not interrupt his design, San headed straight for the kitchen, placing his cold drinks inside the refrigerator before waiting for a pause in Wooyoung’s process.
“What are you doing?” San leaned over the counter, having a full perspective of Wooyoung’s impromptu floor-level vanity. “I brought snacks.”
“Just because you can’t go doesn’t mean I have to stay here,” Wooyoung flippantly replied, leaning in closer to the mirror with his pen of black eyeliner before deciding to turn down the volume of the television.
“I didn’t expect you to,” San rushed, a bit panicked at the idea that Wooyoung may have thought that San hoped he’d stay behind as well. “I meant…”
With words trailing from his tongue, San swallowed dryly. He knew Wooyoung was annoyed that he didn’t want to go to the party, but was he actually mad?
“Listen,” Wooyoung inserted himself into the silence that San couldn’t fill. “I get it. It’s cool, you don’t have to go to every party. I just wish you’d loosen up a bit.”
Well, San hadn’t anticipated that.
“You’re working really hard and it wouldn’t hurt to come out, even for just a drink,” Wooyoung added with a grin, replacing the cap on the stick of eyeliner. “But I won’t beg. That’s not my style.”
Wooyoung reached over his makeshift mirror to locate the next product in his process, knocking a few items near the edge of the table onto the floor. Standing up to retrieve a bottle of something shimmery that rolled off and across the room, Wooyoung revealed his outfit for the night, San biting his lip at the view.
Gone were the staple pieces of Wooyoung’s party wardrobe like the simple pairing of pants and an illegally-obtained varsity jacket. Instead, Wooyoung looked straight up sinful in the tightest pair of jeans he had ever seen on the other man, jet black to match the sleeveless vest buttoned above. The cut of the top dipped low enough that San could make out the definition of the other’s pectorals, a blinged-out chain neatly circling his neck. Wooyoung was a confident man, but he typically avoided any outfits that showed too much skin, piquing San’s interest in the fashion choices even further. While Wooyoung appeared to still be working on the final touches of his makeup, San admired the way Wooyoung could seamlessly blend the perfect smoky eye into sharp liner, a dash of glitter swirled around a simple drawn-on star near the end of his eyebrow. A slight slick of blush-tinted gloss completed the look, San darting his tongue out to wet his own lips as he considered what flavor it may be.
If Wooyoung was willing to let San show up to the shindig in just a black t-shirt, what the hell did Wooyoung have to prove wearing that?
With a glance back at San from where he sat on the living room floor, Wooyoung grinned widely at what San could only assume was a look of pure horny stupidity sprawled across his face.
“What?” Wooyoung casually asked, rolling his eyes with a soft laugh.
“Are you doing this just to tease me?” San raised an eyebrow in Wooyoung’s direction, unabashedly raking his gaze up and down the other’s body.
“No,” Wooyoung shook his head, turning back to finish the final steps of his makeup. “This is what I do for every party.”
“Wooyoung,” San spoke lowly, coming out from behind his perch behind the counter. “You and I both know that isn’t true.”
“Whatever you want to believe, Sannie,” Wooyoung giggled, cleaning up the mess of tubes and brushes from his preparations before placing them all back in his makeup pouch.
Slowly making his way over to the table, San waited until Wooyoung had organized his collection before bending over, leaning down and placing one finger under Wooyoung’s chin to bring his focus back on himself.
“Can’t you just be honest with me?” San asked, adding a pout for emphasis. “Please?”
Wooyoung huffed, shaking his head away from his finger only for San to reflexively grasp his chin gently, keeping Wooyoung’s face in place.
“Tell me, Woo,” San demanded, a smirk perking up the edges of his mouth. “Why all this?”
With large eyes blinking up at San, Wooyoung finally decided to play along, a dusting of glitter settling on his eyelashes.
“Wanted to see what you’d do,” Wooyoung confessed without remorse, cheeks looking a bit chubby in San’s grip. “Duh.”
“Like decide to go to the party?” San asked. “I already said—”
“You said no! Jesus Christ, I got it the first time,” Wooyoung laughed, weaseling himself out of San’s grasp. “I already know you’re no fun.”
“If not to convince me to go,” San began, doing his best to ignore one of Wooyoung’s favorite insults, “then what?”
“Don’t be so dense,” Wooyoung scoffed, arms folded against his chest. “I see the way you’re undressing me with your eyes. I think you know exactly why I did all this.”
“Maybe,” San chuckled, reaching his arm out, offering his hand to hoist Wooyoung off the floor to stand, “but I do love hearing it from you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Wooyoung smiled as he kept his fingers laced with San’s, pulling his body as close as he could to the other. “Tell me… and be honest, okay? Do you really like it?”
With Wooyoung’s face barely inches away from his own, San took as long as he wanted to soak up the artistry Wooyoung had conjured for the night. It didn’t matter what he did—San would love it all—but it didn’t hurt that Wooyoung always knew what San liked to see.
“It’s perfect,” San smiled sweetly, leaning his forehead against the younger’s. “You’re perfect.”
“Hm,” Wooyoung hummed, leaning in leisurely, “I love the sound of that.”
Mouths meeting chastely to start, Wooyoung pressed his lips against San’s, letting them linger without any pressure to hurry things along. San basked in the moment, hands firmly placed on Wooyoung’s hips, keeping their bodies flushed together. As he began to grow slightly impatient, San decided to make the next move, swiping his tongue to part Wooyoung’s lips, finally receiving the answer he had been searching for earlier.
Strawberry.
Ignoring the fact that Wooyoung had basically ditched his very important plans, the pair continued to make out, Wooyoung’s hands roaming across San’s broad back as if he couldn’t decide how to anchor himself to the moment. Grinning against Wooyoung’s lips, San turned his back to the sofa, pulling away so he could sit on the middle cushion, holding up a hand to stop Wooyoung from following suit.
“What…” Wooyoung tried his best to fight off an immediate argument, San amused at his frustration. “Let me sit.”
“Dressed like that?” San looked him up and down again, tugging on the bottom hem of the vest. “I think there’s a better next step.”
Biting his lower lip, San stared up at Wooyoung, reaching for the remote to turn up whatever song had been playing in the background. San nodded his head towards the music, patting his lap as he hoped his partner would pick up what he was putting down.
“I hate you,” Wooyoung stated, words betraying his actions as the man apparently had no reservations in beginning to roll his body to the rhythm, shooting San a seductive smirk over his shoulder as he began to dance.
Sitting back with his legs spread, San indulged himself in the private show Wooyoung was putting on in the center of their living room, hips gyrating with fervor. With a slow rotation of his backside, Wooyoung decided to spin back around, climbing into San’s lap, one hand keeping him steady on his shoulder. Leaning in and back again, Wooyoung let his moves speak for themselves, lightly whining instead of adding foolish words into the mix. San could only look up at the younger man’s face in adoration, lips parted in anticipation.
Wooyoung gradually unbuttoned his vest, taking his time at each fastener before his fingers delicately moved to the next. Once completely open, he shrugged the piece off, revealing the toned body San had committed to memory. Pulling Wooyoung even closer by the buckle of his belt, San forced their lips together again, assisting with the removal of the accessory as Wooyoung continued to roll his body forward. Uncaring if the song matched his energy, the younger man acted as if the show he was giving was for all the marbles, his one chance to impress San and give it all he could. One look below where the belt once latched showed that he was just as worked up as San was, the shape of his length visible through the dark denim.
Impatient as he had ever been, San moved to unbutton Wooyoung’s jeans on his own, pulling down the zipper in order to shove his hand inside, letting himself feel what he had been hoping to touch all night. Seemingly abandoning the idea of a ‘dance,’ Wooyoung bucked his hips into San’s palm, sighing at the new contact, head tilted back at the slightest movements from San. Wooyoung stood up and back in order to remove his pants fully, glancing at San to encourage him to begin undressing as well. With a simple look, San was ready to pull off his shirt and unbutton his jeans, a glimpse back led his view to a completely nude Wooyoung beckoning him into his bedroom. With his pants kicked off into a pile of removed clothing near the couch, San followed Wooyoung into the room, immediately resuming their previous kiss. It was sticky sweet from Wooyoung’s gloss, glitter strewn about both of their faces from the close contact, but San didn’t mind. Having a bit of Wooyoung all over him was nothing to complain about, especially with the way the night had ended up.
Backing himself into the cloud of his own comforter, Wooyoung draped himself over the pile of pillows, pulling the other man on top of him as he grabbed at San’s briefs to remove the final piece of clothing between them. While San usually liked to draw things out, simmer in the tension that could fuel an entire night of pleasure, Wooyoung seemed to need him more than ever, already nudging him with his heel towards the nightstand. With an understanding nod, San leaned over to rummage through the drawer’s contents, returning to his position between Wooyoung’s legs with a bottle of lube. As he clicked open the lid, Wooyoung prodded him again to move out of his way, twisting to lay on his belly and making a show of arching his back for San to have the best access.
“You’re gonna kill me one day, you know that?” San rasped, taking in the view splayed out in front of him.
“After you fuck me,” Wooyoung instructed. “It’s only fair.”
Unable to resist, San set the bottle down for a moment, wiggling his fingers before grabbing at the firm skin below, massaging handfuls of Wooyoung’s perky ass. After seeing it in the jeans he had selected for the evening, San was thrilled to finally get his hands on it, the smooth skin always so delightful to touch. Getting a few playful giggles out of Wooyoung was always a nice prize as well, one he’d repay the younger with by spreading him open, drizzling a hefty amount of lube from the bottle at his entrance.
With one hand continuing to massage Wooyoung’s ass and down to his thigh, San used his other hand to gently spread the gel, nudging a finger gingerly at Wooyoung’s hole. A gasp slipped through the younger man’s lips as San carefully slipped the digit inside, knuckle by knuckle until the friction dissipated, allowing him to move it at a steady pace. As San readied his next finger, he leaned up briefly, kissing the nape of Wooyoung’s neck, admiring the sparkling piece of jewelry Wooyoung hadn’t removed prior to getting into bed.
“Doing so good,” San mumbled towards his ear. “Gonna give you everything you want, Woo…”
“Please…” Wooyoung sounded breathless, his own hips carelessly grinding into the mattress below them. “I’ll make it so good…”
Pressing in two fingers, San continued to work Wooyoung open, kissing down his back and dragging his tongue along Wooyoung’s spine. It was a masterful view: the curve of Wooyoung’s body against his sheets, tan skin showing where San was exclusively permitted to be.
Wooyoung was all his and no one would ever stand in his way.
As San pumped three fingers in and out of Wooyoung, he slowed his pace, aiming for precision in finding the spot that made him mewl, a point that made Wooyoung’s jaw go slack and toes curl. With a sharp whine falling from Wooyoung’s mouth into the pillows, San knew his job was nearly done, sliding his fingers out and moving to reach for a condom with his clean hand only to be stopped with the quick movement of Wooyoung’s grasp.
“Don’t need one,” Wooyoung muttered, turning onto his back, legs spread fully for San’s complete access. “I’m clean, you’re clean… want you… just like this.”
And San obliged.
With the excess lube slicking up his cock, San positioned himself above Wooyoung on the bed, keeping the younger’s knees bent up and back. A first press forward guided the head of his dick inside, Wooyoung sighing at the sensation before San managed to fully insert himself. He had done an excellent job at preparing Wooyoung for his size, but the new excitement from skin on skin contact was driving him to the edge too quickly, noticing Wooyoung wasn’t exactly in a better situation.
Before deciding to pull back out, San lingered inside, leaning down to messily kiss Wooyoung’s plump lips, sucking near the beauty spot dotting the lower. As he shifted back, San stared down at Wooyoung, waiting for a nod before slamming back into the hilt, a gasp choked out from Wooyoung’s throat.
“F-fuck!” Wooyoung tried to find something to steady himself, deciding on San’s upper arms. “Go, go!”
Wooyoung didn’t have to ask twice, San finding a pace that felt a bit too frantic compared to their usual tempo, something reserved for nights when they both truly couldn’t help themselves. With every thrust, San watched Wooyoung’s cock bob heavily against his stomach, leaking shamelessly in absolute satisfaction from their evening, especially from San’s own handiwork of always being able to get Wooyoung off.
Pleasure bloomed in his abdomen, watching as Wooyoung squirmed in ecstasy below him, unable to control his expressions as San relentlessly gave him everything he asked for.
“So, so perfect,” San echoed his earlier statements. “All mine… feel how good that is? It’s because you’re. All. Mine.”
“Yours…” Wooyoung echoed. “Forever…”
San generously provided Wooyoung some much needed relief by taking his length into one of his hands as they both neared their orgasms, the pinnacle close based on Wooyoung’s twisted expression. Grunting as he felt his energy reach its peak, San lured out the most addictive moans from Wooyoung’s perfect mouth, his eyes squeezed shut at the near overstimulation. A few flicks of San’s wrist would make Wooyoung come undone, the clenching of his orgasm forcing San to fill—
“San?”
At that point, San knew how his mind reacted in situations that carried his thoughts and emotions away, situations where he knew what could have been possible if he took the list of reasons in his notebook to heart. Imagining anything but reality seemed to be a reflex he didn’t want to embrace, a reaction that saved him from his inner turmoil. Should San have been so calm about reacting so little to the most explicit of his fantasies yet? Was any of this actually about his feelings for his friend or was it truly boiling down to his repressed sexual fulfillment?
Maybe he needed to stop caring all together if he wasn’t planning on solving any of his own mess to begin with.
“Sorry,” San offered an apologetic smile to his friend. “Just kinda… zoned out. You know, stress.”
From thinking about you. Constantly.
“S’okay,” Wooyoung managed a smile back, standing up to do one last once-over of himself in the mirror attached to the back of his bedroom door. “Can I borrow your leather jacket?”
“Oh, uh, sure,” San nodded, getting up and quickly fetching the garment from his own closet before bringing it back to Wooyoung as they met back in the living room. “Please don’t lose it.”
“You know I’m not the one losing things, I find them,” Wooyoung cackled, sliding his arms into the jacket, the shoulders a bit oversized compared to San’s wide frame.
“Right,” San nodded with the same smile that didn’t seem to mean much, hands autonomously moving to straighten out the lapels of the coat against Wooyoung’s chest before retreating back to his sides.
The two roommates stood less than a foot apart, an uncomfortable distance for some but totally routine for San and Wooyoung. San wasn’t sure if Wooyoung was waiting for him to say something, help him push back a stubborn hair from his head or even brush away a stray piece of glitter near his eyes. Neither spoke as they looked at each other, Wooyoung’s gaze turning expectant as San decided to open his mouth to speak, words not yet chosen.
Have fun and don’t miss me too much? No.
Don’t get too crazy, I’m not calling campus security again? Not that.
If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to lean in and kiss you? Wait—
“Be safe,” San chose instead, offering a short and solemn nod to his roommate, not missing Wooyoung’s expression dropping with a sag of his shoulders before he was putting on his best party face, a façade San normally didn’t like to encourage the other to wear.
“Always am,” Wooyoung winked, hastily making his way to the door, checking his pockets to make sure he had his necessities before leaving.
Instead of immediately reaching for the doorknob, Wooyoung turned back to face San, a fond smile replacing his conniving grin from earlier. He made three quick strides across the apartment floor, meeting at San’s position near the sofa. Before he could move, Wooyoung’s arms snaked around San’s middle, a kiss pressed dangerously close to the fold where San’s cheek and mouth met.
“Study hard,” Wooyoung encouraged, giving San an extra squeeze before bounding back to the door, giggling as he exited their apartment.
Frozen in place in the center of the apartment’s living room, San slowly raised his hand to his face, fingers gently grazing the corner of his mouth that Wooyoung’s lips dared to approach. The level of affection was nothing new from Wooyoung, San was completely aware of that fact. It was no longer playful in San’s eyes. He didn’t want it to be something silly from a friend, a joke between roommates. No, San wanted the real deal. He had to go all in.
It’s killing me. He deserves to know.
I think I have a shot. |
"It looks like cotton candy," Alex said as she large bowl of fried rice on the table.
"Yeah, it's pretty great," Kara replied as she held a tray of potstickers in her hands and placed it on her table beside the giant bowl. Kara-55 and Lena-56 were "Patroling" the city, with Kara having set a reservation with the Blue Rannian for the pair.
This way, Kara could get some intel on the food before her date with Lena later that week.
"What time is it?" Kara asked her sister, who glanced at her watch.
"6:45 P.M," Alex answered.
"About thirty minutes left," Kara said. She had done all of the invites and everyone would be arriving shortly, including the star of the show, her official daughter, Esme Danvers.
"Nervous?" Alex asked.
"I'm very anxious," Kara admitted with a cross of her arms. "Not about Esme. I spent five months with her, so I know she'll be happy with my surprise."
"Then what?" Alex asked, only to roll her eyes in realization. "Are you worried about Lena's reaction to the adoption?"
"No, not at all," Kara answered. "Lena is very understanding and I doubt adopting Esme will change how dynamic at all."
She had heard bits and pieces of Lena's conversation with her daughter as she was returning to the land of the living, and Lena was her normal, kind self. "In fact, they got along great," Kara answered.
"Then what is it?" Alex asked.
"It's just… My friendship with Lena is very important to me," Kara murmured.
"Understatement of a lifetime," Alex muttered. "But go on."
"And despite not saying it, my feelings about her are pretty clear," Kara continued. "I love her with every beat of my heart. But thinking about my actions since I came back, I realized that I'm making the same mistake I did before when I initiated my friendship with her as Kara and Supergirl. I'm taking away her agency."
Kara dug at the floor with her toe. "I mean, I don't even know if she wants to be with me like that in the first place. And I've just been throwing the pressure on her. I steal kisses from her, I've sent her a rather risqué picture, and I felt her up while Sam, Nia, Andrea, and Kelly were at the table."
"I'm sorry, what?" Alex asked.
"I want to tell her how I feel about her tonight," Kara said. "And that's where I'm anxious. I don't want to keep up my games."
"Going for being a mother and a girlfriend in one night. It'll be quite the feat if you pull it off," Alex said.
"If?" Kara asked.
"Knowing you both, something will stop you from revealing your feelings," Alex said. "Also, you felt her up while Nia, Kelly, Andrea, and Sam were at the table?! Have you gone mad?!"
"Well, I thought it was a good idea at the time," Kara blushed.
There was a knock on the door, which gave Kara the chance to escape any further questions from her sister. Kara floated to the door and opened it to reveal Nia and Andrea. "Hello ladies," Kara greeted as she gave both women a brief hug.
"It smells fantastic in here," Andrea noted as she walked into the apartment, only to squint her eyes in pain. "While also looking awfully like cotton candy."
"I know, right?" Kara chirped.
"That is a lot of food. Thank goodness I came with just my stomach," Nia said.
"And…?" Andrea drawled.
"Oh!" Nia exclaimed. She reached into her purse and pulled out a teddy bear dressed like Supergirl. "And a gift for your mystery daughter," Nia told Kara.
"You're so sweet," Kara tenderly said.
"Well, it was Andrea's idea," Nia told her with red cheeks.
Kara turned to Andrea, who confirmed Nia's statement with a nod. "I sure did. She was running around my place like a chicken with her head cut off trying to think of something," Andrea explained.
"Wait, what?" Kara questioned.
"Well, let's get in here and get settled," Nia quickly said as she took Andrea's hand and pulled her into the apartment. Kara began to close the door, only to hear Kelly and Sam's voices floating down the hall.
"Hey guys," Kara greeted once Sam and Kelly made it to her apartment.
"Hey Kara," Kelly greeted while Sam gave her a suspicious look.
"What?" Kara asked.
"How did you get here so fast?" Sam asked.
Kara gave her a confused expression.
"I just saw you flying downtown a bit ago," Sam explained. Kara then noticed Sam's eyes raise to her hair, and that suspicious look deepened. "When did you change your hair back?"
"Oh!" Kara exclaimed. "You didn't see me, you saw Kara-55. She and Lena-56 are watching over the city."
Both Kelly and Sam stared at her.
"I'll explain in a bit. In the meantime, come in," Kara told them as she moved aside. The two confused women walked past her and into the apartment, where Kara watched both women place a kiss on Alex's cheeks.
Kara tilted her head in thought.
'Alright, so Nia, Andrea, Alex, Sam, and Kelly are here. All that's left is Lena, the social worker, and Esme," Kara thought.
In a normal situation, her apartment would be filled with more people, like Maggie, M'Gann, J'onn, James, Lucy, Winn, and Querl. But with Querl in the future, James and Winn back in Japan for their vacation, Lucy being MIA in Greece, J'onn being in Krypton with her Jeju, and Maggie and M'Gann traveling the world, she would settle for a smaller reveal.
And as for Eliza, she said she would be here tomorrow, so Kara will introduce her to Esme then.
"I must say, Ms. Zor-El, you look absolutely beautiful tonight," Lena announced.
Kara jumped when she saw Lena in front of her, an amused smile on her face. Kara blushed and asked, "I look beautiful wearing this?"
Kara stood in a simple black mock neck tank top that sat beneath an open white jacket, gray jeans, and white sneakers.
"Of course you do," Lena replied. "You've always been into pastel sweaters and dresses. I like you being more casual."
"Well, I do—" Kara paused as she finally took notice of Lena's outfit.
Lena wore a pair of white Hypnos Pants and a white Mylas Top, both from the Altuzarra brand, a pair of white Anne Mules from Wandler, and Supergirl's blue bomber jacket.
Lena looked downright beautiful in her $1,850 clothes, but what gave Kara pause was what Lena had around her neck.
Around Lena's neck was a metallic choker with a sapphire blue House of El sigil etched into it. Kara's eyes darkened at the sight of it. "What is that?" Kara asked, her voice low and at a near whisper.
"Oh? This?" Lena questioned as she tugged at the jacket. "It's your jacket. You lent it to me a while back."
"Not that," Kara softly replied. "What is that around your neck?"
"It's a Courting necklace," Lena answered. "Since you've been trying to court me since you've returned, I figured I would save you the trouble of getting me one."
"Lena…." Kara murmured. She glanced back at the inside of her apartment and immediately closed the door, giving the two of them a semblance of privacy. But as Kara opened her mouth to speak, Lena's right middle and index fingers pressed against her lips.
"Oh no, your charming and warm words will not help you this time," Lena told her. "So, I want you to remain silent. Am I clear?"
Kara nodded.
"You've taken a lot of liberties with me, Kara Zor-El," Lena told her as she removed her fingers from Kara's lips. "Liberties that I would not allow anyone else to do." Lena leaned in close and whispered into her ear, "But I suppose you thought you could get away with it just because you gave me that vow. Isn't that right, my dear Zhaol?"
Kara tensed.
That word should not sound as bewitching as it does leave Lena's mouth.
"So tonight, I believe we're going to establish some boundaries," Lena told her.
Kara could feel Lena's hand against her stomach as her lips met the spot right beneath her ear, causing Kara's knees to nearly give out. She felt Lena's lips turn up against her hot skin.
"I want you to savor this," Lena whispered against her skin as Kara felt the shorter woman's lips against her jawline. "Because this will be the last time I will be this close to you for a while."
"W-What?" Kara breathed out. "That's u-unfair."
"Ah-ah," Lena whispered. "No talking, no noise…."
Kara struggled as Lena continued to place achingly slow kisses down her neck until it stopped at the base. "You bought this punishment upon yourself, Kara…." Lena whispered.
Kara felt Lena's tongue flit out against the base of her neck, which made Kara let out a small involuntary moan, only for Lena's hand to cover her mouth. "Can you imagine being touched like that and not being able to do anything?" Lena questioned as she unbuttoned Kara's jeans.
Lena's lips kept kissing Kara's neck as her right hand slid into Kara's jeans. Kara could feel Lena's middle and index finger rubbing the fabric of her boy shorts against her the outer lips of her vagina, which caused Kara to let out a muffled moan. "It's agony," Lena breathed as she nipped at the spot beneath Kara's chin.
"If you had been forthcoming, I wouldn't have minded your sweet torture today," Lena told her as her agonizing movements continued. "But you failed to be, therefore, an eye for an eye, Kara," Lena told her as she removed her hand from Kara's jeans.
Kara felt robbed of Lena's fingers, however, she couldn't fault Lena for this, not when she had done the same earlier in the day.
"if you want to court me, you will be doing it the right way," Lena told her as she buttoned Kara's jeans back. "No more deception or untranslated vows. You will follow the rules of Kryptonian courting to the letter, am I clear?"
Kara gave her a shaky nod.
Lena smiled and delivered a hard bite to the crook of her neck, causing Kara's legs to tremble in further pleasure. "Now, let's enjoy the rest of this night, Ms. Zor-El," Lena whispered.
Lena then opened the door and sauntered inside, while Kara stood in the hallway, with lipstick kissing going from beneath her left ear down to the crook of her neck.
Kara covered her mouth with red cheeks, her heart beating wildly in her chest.
Despite being in the doghouse, Kara had never been so attracted to someone as she was to Lena right now.
The elevator down the hall dinged and opened, and a familiar heartbeat entered her ear. Kara smiled and turned to see the social worker with Esme. "Kara!" Esme screamed as she ran away from the social worker and towards her.
Kara bent down and scooped the small girl into her arms after Esme smashed into her, sending them both floating into the air. Kara laughed as Esme nuzzled her face into Kara's lipstick-free side of her neck.
"I missed you so much!" Esme exclaimed as Kara felt her tiny arms tighten around her neck.
"I missed you too, Kir Ehkhin," Kara whispered to the small girl. Kara then turned her gaze to the smiling social worker and said, "Thank you for bringing her."
"You're very welcome," the social worker replied with a smile on his face. He lifted the manilla envelope and said, "I have the paperwork inside here to make it official."
"Wonderful. Let's go inside so I can get that signed and introduce Esme to everyone," Kara said with her smile growing. |
12th November, 1980
James shuts the door. He doesn’t slam it, exactly, but it’s a very resolute sort of sound. The younger, smaller brother of a slam, perhaps.
“James,” says Lily, “I don’t want him here.”
Harry, bless him, hasn’t a clue. He’s sucking on his dummy with relish, entirely unaware they’ve got his godfather, Dumbledore, and a wanted murderer having a terse meeting in the next room over.
“I don’t know what else we can do,” says James. “He’s got no wand. He’s in pieces, just look at him.”
“Chuck him in Azkaban and be done with it,” Lily says.
“You don’t mean that.”
She glares at him. Of course she doesn’t bloody mean it.
Harry, meanwhile, looks between his mummy and his daddy with great self-satisfaction, as though he did well in choosing them, if he can say so himself. Lily thinks that’s rather rich, considering that, at least according to her various baby development books, her son currently still can’t see anything more substantial than vague shapes and blurry colours.
“They wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t a last resort. I don’t think they’ve got anywhere else that’s safe to put him,” James adds, gently.
“Don’t know why you bother with your glasses,” she remarks, smoothing down Harry’s unruly black tuft of hair (it flicks straight back up again), “when you wake up every morning and just throw on your Sirius goggles instead.”
James takes Harry from her. Jiggles him a little, until the baby laughs. “I think Sirius is probably on your side,” he says. “Well—maybe not the Azkaban bit. But he gave up on his brother a long time ago. Reckoned he had made his choices, so he ought to live with them.”
Lily takes a seat at the small, square kitchen table. She rubs circles into her temples. Thinks of Petunia. Not Petunia as she’d last seen her, sneering at James, arm-in-arm with that pugnacious husband of hers. No. She thinks of Petunia with her perfect blonde curls undone and straggly and wet, her face white as milk, her clothes sodden and clinging to her skin, pupils blown and eyes maddened, swaying like she half-expects the living room floor to capsize beneath her.
And Lily thinks of Sirius, still fuming in the other room. Face thunderous, words barbed. One hand, nevertheless, wrapped firmly around Regulus’s bony elbow. Basin at the ready in the other.
“No,” says Lily at last. “No, I don’t think that’s true.”
James perks up at once. He’s always known what she’s thinking before she’s even thought it. It’s the worst thing about him. “I’ll tell them, then?”
“Harry’s staying in the room with us,” she warns. “I won’t go so far as to lock the bastard into the spare room, but I will be putting a Caterwauling Charm on the door every evening. He tries anything, we know about it immediately.”
Harry chooses that moment to coo and pull at James's hair with his tiny fist.
“Oi, you,” says James, and tickles Harry.
At once, Lily bursts into tears.
“Oh, sweetheart,” says James, and then Harry is squashed between them as he wraps his spare arm around her shoulders.
“When,” she sobs, “is this—going—to end?”
And for once, her pig-headed, big-hearted, smart-arsed husband has no answer. Instead, he hands her back her son and he says, gently, “I’ll make up the spare room.”
*
Sirius puts his brother to bed at the exact same time that Lily puts down Harry. There is something of a stand-off between the four of them on the landing. This all feels slightly ludicrous, owing to the fact that Harry is a three-month-old infant and Regulus Black is dead on his feet—but perhaps Lily is just hysterical.
Regulus’s eyes—lightless black holes in his skull of a face—stare blankly at the two of them like he’s never seen either of them before; Lily supposes that he hadn’t exactly been compos mentis when he’d been carried into their living room three hours earlier. At least he’s no longer dripping gore onto the carpet.
“That’s my godson,” Sirius tells him, “and if you so much as look at him the wrong way, I’ll hang you by the ankle from a broomstick and send you packing straight back to your beloved Dark Lord, d’you hear me?”
As Sirius remains the only thing that’s holding Regulus upright, the threat deflates like a popped balloon.
Regulus blinks. “Godson?”
Lily glares. Sirius says, “Yes. Godson.”
“Well,” says Regulus, “I always knew Potter had terrible judgement.”
Sirius smacks him (rather weakly) on the shoulder; Regulus seems hardly to notice.
“I’m putting a Caterwauling Charm on the door,” says Lily. “And the window. Any funny business, and I’ll kill you myself. Chop you up and feed you to the cat.”
Harry giggles, and grabs a fistful of her hair.
Regulus’s dead stare is unamused. “Cats. Broomsticks. Whatever shall I do.”
“Oh, if you want to be smart, I’ll tell you where you can shove that broomstick, you smarmy little prat,“ Sirius growls. “Up your skinny little—“
“Charming, Sirius,” interrupts Regulus, too tired for further protest as he lets his brother, still muttering darkly, march him into the spare bedroom.
14th November, 1980
One day passes. Then another. Yet Sirius remains resolute. He will continue skulking around the house until urgent Order business drags him away, and even then, James suspects he’ll leave his brother’s general vicinity only in case of emergency. Meanwhile, Regulus Black does not improve, but neither does he die. James has cheerfully taken this as a victory. Lily, currently prostrate on the couch, is less sure.
She lifts her face from where she’d buried it in the cushions. “What do you think, Harry, hm?”
In response, Harry attempts to shove his entire fist into his mouth. Then he farts.
“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” says James, tickling his son’s belly; Harry’s little giggles are fresh as a xylophone scale, his tiny legs flailing. “Marvellous!”
“Don’t look so smug. You’re changing that nappy,” Lily tells him wearily.
James gives Harry’s bum a cursory sniff. Considers his options. Then he says: “Maybe it’s time to rope Sirius into his godfather duties. Have you seen him?”
“That’s evil, Jim,” his lovely wife declares. She’s sinking further and further into the couch, as though the gap between the cushions is eating her. “Heinous. Despicable.”
“I’m getting him,” says James.
“I can’t believe it. I’ve married a monster.”
He cranes his head over and pecks her on the cheek before getting to his feet.
Sirius is not in the kitchen, nor the living room, nor the now-defunct nursery (Harry has slept in the bedroom with them ever since the murderer moved in). James even pokes his head out the window; there’s a little robin redbreast cheering up the garden wall, but no large black dog or disgruntled best friend. Which leaves:
Knock on the door. No answer. He pushes it open with a creak, and warily peers in.
Sirius is snoring. He’s dragged a kitchen chair up the stairs, and in a remarkable feat of exhaustion, has managed to fall asleep on it. His feet are propped up on the foot of the bed, and his head is tilted back, limp as an unstrung puppet. His mouth is wide open and practically begging for James to shove a dirty sock or a spoonful of Marmite into it. He is going to wake with a frightful crick in his neck.
“How long has he been there?” James whispers.
Regulus shrugs. He’s holding a basin, still looking very green. Someone—Sirius—has draped a blanket over his shoulders. “Since this morning,” he croaks.
“Not asleep, surely?”
Regulus’s bloodshot gaze darts upward to settle on James. He does not move an inch from his position on the corner of the bed, hunched over as though he’s afraid that the nausea will come rushing straight back the minute he allows himself to relax.
“He was up rather late.” The with me goes unsaid. James had glimpsed it as he passed the bathroom, door open just a crack: Regulus slumped on the tiles, head pillowed on the toilet seat, acquainting himself with the plumbing, while Sirius had lounged in the empty bathtub and pretended not to care. Sometime after eleven, Lily had put a Muffling Charm on the hall door; they must have been in there all night.
James strides over and opens the window in an attempt to waft away the stale, clammy smell of sickness that lingers in the room. Sirius snuffles a bit, but doesn’t wake. Now that he is within shoving distance, James reconsiders: Sirius’s dark circles are almost as bad as his brother’s.
“That’s it. I’m calling Remus,” he decides.
Regulus somehow goes greener. “You can’t tell anyone I’m here—“
“Calm down, I know. Dumbledore gave us all the rundown. As far as anyone else is concerned, you’re still missing-slash-dead. S’long as you keep your bony arse safely parked on that bed, Remus won’t be any the wiser as to your continued survival.”
Regulus scowls; James winks at him. Then he closes the door, walks down the stairs, waves his wand, and watches as a silver stag soars out through the living-room window and gallops across the garden.
Lily—who has finally extracted herself from the couch to sit next to a giggling Harry—raises a single eyebrow. “What happened to Sirius’s godfatherly duties?”
James sighs, and opens his arms. “Give me my stinky son.”
*
Once the biohazard in Harry’s nappy is dealt with, Lily and James stage an intervention for Sirius in the spare room. It is not their first intervention, and will likely not be the last. This time, however, Harry and Regulus have both been cast as spectators—one distinctly less willing than the other.
“Come on, Pads,” says James. “Go with Remus. Do something mildly reckless. Full moon’s coming up, anyway. He’ll need you then.”
“But—“
“You’re going to go mad hovering over him. You’ve barely left his side in two whole days, mate,” says James. “It’s making you miserable.”
“It’s making me miserable,” says Regulus.
“Reg,” says Sirius, “do you know what duct-tape is? Because it’s going on your mouth in a minute.” To James, he says, “What if something happens? What if he tries something?”
“I’ll stop him,” says James.
“I’ll stop him,” says Lily from the door, baby on her hip.
“I’m not going to try anything,” says Regulus.
“Oh yeah?” Sirius rounds on his brother. “How do we know? He could be faking it, James. This could all be one big elaborate trick.”
Regulus—still locked in a loving embrace with the vomit-basin—raises a single brow at his brother. “Oh yes,” he says, acidly, “you caught me. That’s why I drank straight poison. That’s why I took a little dip in a lake full of Inferi. Just to trick you.”
Sirius’s returning scowl is brief and perfunctory. He turns back to James and Lily. “What if he gets sick again?”
“I’ll get sick on your face in a minute,” Regulus mutters from the bed.
“He’s a big boy,” says Lily, “I’m sure he’ll manage.”
“Stay, go, I couldn’t care less.” Regulus is a vision of abject misery as he presses his forehead against the rim of the basin, a thin sheen of sweat on the nape of his neck. Poetic justice, Lily thinks. “Just stop arguing or get the fuck out.”
Sirius whirls around. “Don’t fucking swear in front of my fucking godson!”
*
A blissfully ignorant Remus, unsuccessfully concealing his bemusement, leads a glowering Sirius Black from the cottage forty five minutes later.
14th, 15th, 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th November, 1980
Regulus Black continues to not die. In fact, five days after his sudden and dramatic arrival, he keeps his breakfast and half his dinner down. The day after that, he comes downstairs and fumes at them from the couch; Sirius, who has been persuaded into limiting his mother-henning to a very reasonable hour a day, does not even have to help him. The day after that, he even showers—something that they’re all rather relieved about—though he had point-blank refused to go near the bath, and hadn’t actually braved the shower until he had consumed enough vials of Calming Draught to knock out a hippogriff. Although, from the various bits and pieces she’s gleaned from Sirius regarding a lake and what sounds like zombies, Lily is inclined to forgive him for that.
It is odd, having a stranger in their home. It’s only been the three of them since Harry was born. Since a grim-faced Dumbledore had knocked at the door. Since the Fidelius was cast. But it’s not quite as odd as it might have been. Regulus is not particularly threatening, not even when he tries to be. And despite herself, despite her knowledge of who he is, and what he’s done, Lily finds herself glad that their ‘guest’ is on the mend.
For Sirius’s sake.
28th November, 1980
Let it be known that, while Lily Potter is emphatically not a morning person, she is a fair one: it’s her turn. So here she is, at five o’clock in the morning in the freezing depths of November, standing on a hot water bottle in the darkened kitchen and rocking her terrible infant son back to sleep. Colic must have been invented by God to punish mothers, she thinks, and then she feels awful, because Harry’s probably suffering much worse than she is, the poor thing, and her heart aches for him, it really does—but she still wishes he had had the good manners to limit his fussing to regular business hours.
Then the second poor thing of the month appears at the doorway, looking nearly as wretched as the first. Regulus no longer appears at risk of sudden death, but his delicate pureblood constitution remains wobbly; he’d thrown up so violently earlier that evening that Lily was shocked that the noise hadn’t broken the sound barrier. (Or the Fidelius). She was only glad Sirius wasn’t around to witness it this time, or he would have certainly have set up permanent camp in the bathtub, or thrown up himself with worry; Lily, who does not like or trust their resident ex-Death Eater, had felt a bit nauseous herself at the sound of it. But, since Regulus Black had staggered out of the bathroom with his guts still in their correct places, and evidently did not collapse and expire on his way down the stairs, and used to be a member of a terrorist organisation out to kill her and people like her, Lily is trying not to let it get to her.
“I hope Harry didn’t keep you up,” she lies.
Regulus doesn’t deign to honour her with an answer; the purpling bags under his eyes have bypassed concerning and veered headfirst into comical. Though, to be fair, they cannot be attributed solely to sharing the same roof as a colicky baby. He’s so exhausted he has even conceded to wearing Muggle clothing without complaint, and his skin has taken on a pallor heretofore never seen on anyone still possessing a pulse. His jumper (Sirius’s originally, she presumes) hangs frightfully loose on him; the pyjama bottoms are definitely Sirius’s, considering they’re a bright vermillion and patterned with golden stars.
She resettles the sniffly Harry in her arms. Her wand is within reach on the kitchen table, and his has been confiscated by the Order, but he’s still a Death Eater, defection or not. She doesn’t know where to begin trusting him. She doesn’t know if she has it in her.
Then, in his posh rasp, Regulus says: “Would you like help?”
Lily stares at him. “What.”
“You heard me.”
“Yeah,” she says, “refill the hot water bottle.”
“Pardon?”
“You heard me,” she says.
He follows her gaze down to the hot water bottle that she is currently still standing upon. She steps off. The lukewarm water inside sloshes about; the icy kitchen tiles hurt her freezing feet even through three pairs of socks. She dreams, briefly and achingly, of a bubble-bath. Harry lets out another miserable hiccough, lower lip jutting into a wet pout, tears clumping his black eyelashes into spider’s legs.
Regulus looks at the hot water bottle. Then he looks at Lily. He opens his mouth to speak, but she waggles one of her few spare fingers at him. “If this is going to be some nonsense about Warming Charms, I don’t want to hear it. It just isn’t the same.”
He closes his mouth, expression mutinous.
“Boil the bloody kettle, Black,” Lily says.
Regulus picks the water bottle up off the kitchen tiles. Then he looks with real trepidation at the electric kettle. Lily offers no further instructions, and he clearly senses none will be forthcoming, because he sets the hot water bottle gingerly on the counter before leaning forward to examine the cheap plastic kettle with all the intensity of a man faced with a blackboard of complex equations. To add insult to injury, he bends at the waist, shoulders straight and posture perfect. She would laugh at him, but she’s so tired she can’t remember how. Where do laughs usually begin, anyway? In the throat or in the belly?
“There’s a second one in the cupboard under the sink.” It comes out before she can stop it. “James’s. He never uses it since he already runs hotter than a bloody furnace. It’s there if you want it.”
Regulus Black frowns at her, one hand on the handle of the kettle. The question is unspoken; she hears it loud and clear.
“You look like a man who has bad circulation,” she informs him primly, and carries the (finally! finally!) dozy Harry into the sitting room, seating herself gently on the couch and turning the telly on mute. Slowly, and with several little sniffles, Harry nods off on her chest. She briefly thinks about attempting to carry him to his cot upstairs, but finds herself too tired to move.
Ten minutes later, Regulus appears at the door. He’s wrapped the hot water bottle in a tea towel so it won’t burn her. Lily is—resentfully—touched.
Then, without having to be asked, and moving very slowly, he slides the wrapped hot water bottle under her feet. When he straightens up, one side of his mouth has hooked up into a sort-of-smile. The shape of it Lily recognises—it’s Sirius’s smile—but it looks like something new on Regulus’s sharper, skinnier face.
Harry sighs, a puff of warmth against her throat.
Lily realises she left her wand in the kitchen. And she’d never heard the Caterwauling Charm go off.
Regulus Black is quick on the uptake. He takes a step back. Long-fingered hands where she can see them, palms open and empty. “You forgot,” he tells her, more gently than expected, “and I suspected it wasn’t the best time to remind you.”
“I forgot,” she repeats, faintly. The TV keeps flickering. She’s not half as frightened as she thinks she should be. “Christ. Well. Do remind me next time, won’t you?”
“Gladly,” says Regulus dryly. He sinks down on the armchair, heavy eyelids already at half-mast, so that only a half-moon of grey iris is visible. “Do you mind? Because, frankly, I don’t think I’ll manage the stairs again without at least an hour-long nap.”
“Remind me, who is the baby here?” she asks.
“James, of course,” he says at once.
She throws a cushion at him. He smiles again. Tiredly. Crookedly.
*
James comes down the stairs as the sun rises. He opens the door to the sitting room to find the three of them asleep and snoring in chorus.
The seemingly interminable November of 1980
The most horrible thing about Lily and James Potter, Regulus discovers very soon into his involuntary sojourn in Godric’s Hollow, is that they’re just not very good at hating him. Oh, they can be prickly, certainly, and he’s prickly right back—but, despite being wandless, weak, and entirely at their mercy, they never actually threaten him. In fact, he finds himself settling into an oddly comfortable sort of rhythm:
He wakes up, attempts the stairs, and once he’s managed that, is functionally trapped on the ground floor until he works up the energy to ascend them again. He tries not to nap, but he’s rarely successful. The toilet bowl is his sworn enemy. He generally feels like throwing up for about twenty-to-thirty minutes after eating anything, but, through sheer spite, keeps most meals down.
He might pick up a book, Muggle or Magical. He tries to read it, but just ends up falling asleep again. He wakes up. He wonders if this will be his life forever. Weak as a kitten and threatened by the stairs. Meanwhile, Lily and James fawn over their progeny’s latest incomprehensible babble or toothless smile in the other room.
They’re so in love it’s hideous, verging on emotionally obscene, and they’re spoiling baby Harry rotten. They don’t even shout at him.
Around midday, James will usually deliver Regulus some lunch. Though he and Lily assure Regulus that he has free rein of the kitchen during the day, he is too proud to admit he has never made himself his own food in nineteen years of life, and would, frankly, have no idea where to start. Anyway, the Potters’ kitchen uses elec-tricks. He’d rather starve than attempt any of that Muggle nonsense.
(This does not include the kettle. He uses the kettle. He will not admit that he thinks the elec-trick kettle is a fantastic invention. Not even on his deathbed.)
This is around the time of the day he designates to wallowing. He longs for Kreacher, for his mates, for the comforts of Grimmauld Place, where there are more rooms than anyone knows what to do with, and nobody gazes at him with thinly-disguised pity or open distrust when they think he’s not looking. But he gets over it. Mostly.
(He hadn’t really had very many mates, at least not ones he actually trusted. And Kreacher was safer believing Regulus to be dead. And Grimmauld Place—)
(Well. He’d rather not dwell on Grimmauld Place.)
Then: dinner. Some days, Sirius comes. His moods vary. That’s nothing new; so do Regulus’s. It might be a Black thing, but he’s still feeling a little too wobbly to devote himself to any serious introspection over it. That can come after he’s conquered the stairs. After dinner, he helps clean up, because it’s polite, even though James or Lily or Sirius, being in possession of their wands, usually end up doing most of it.
Then, Lily or James puts the baby to bed. They might watch the television. Regulus wants to show nothing but disdain for the television, but it’s too hard a front to maintain, especially when the whole thing ends up being both interesting and absurd.
It’s like the wireless, but with pictures. They even have little plays in there!
Lily is a fan of The Doctor Who; she explains the plot to him on the first Saturday evening he spends in Godric’s Hollow. His confusion must be evident on his face, because James laughs at him. Two Saturdays and two episodes later, he remains none the wiser.
“So… it’s magic, but it’s not actual magic,” he says.
“It’s science-fiction.”
She may as well be speaking Greek to him, so he quickly moves on. “And the blue telling-phone box… is a time-turner?”
“Er—sort of. A time-turner, and a Portkey. So it travels through both time and space.”
Regulus is alarmed. “But, it’s not real? Muggles can’t travel like that?” He had only just gotten to grips with air-o-planes and hell-to-coppers.
“Of course not,” says Lily cheerfully.
“So, why…?”
“Because,” she tells him patiently, “it makes for a good story.”
“Right,” he says, narrowing his eyes at the television, “but they’ve still got everything wrong about vampires. Though I do quite like the rheumatic dog.”
“Robotic dog. Not rheumatic.” Lily’s mouth twitches. He has no idea why.
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
“I wish Sirius could shoot lasers out of his nose,” says James.
“I don’t,” says Regulus.
He tries not to fall asleep on the armchair. He usually fails. Lily and James usually rouse him by being needlessly loud, which is thoughtful of them. Steeling himself, he tackles the stairs. Lily and James are smart enough not to offer help. Should he be present, Sirius is not. Regulus soothes himself by remembering, in vivid detail, that time he dared Sirius to lick a toad they’d found in the gardens in Kent only for Sirius to break out in a violently purple, full-body rash as a result. It doesn’t help. But Regulus makes it to his bed, and, if he’s lucky, doesn’t dream.
He’s rarely lucky.
He doesn’t know if James and Lily hear him. Surely not, if he doesn’t wake Harry; he assumes they’ve soundproofed the baby’s cot, at the very least. Regulus usually paces around the darkened bedroom until his legs give out or the shakes cease, whichever comes first. Perhaps he scratches the Potters’ ugly ginger cat between the ears and underneath the chin. It has, inexplicably, taken a liking to him, and curls up at his feet at night. Regulus resents this less than expected. Eventually, morning comes. He resents that less than expected, too.
In fact, there are a lot of things he resents less than expected.
Lily does not put any more Caterwauling Charms on the door.
|
Chapter Three
Louis woke with a start the next morning, his pillow felt wet against his cheek causing him to pull a face of disgust. His textbooks had been left lying on his desk from the night before, his homework lay by its side, incomplete.
Groaning, Louis peeled himself out of bed, still in his clothes from the previous night and feeling like he hadn’t slept a wink. To make matters worse, he was going to have to speak to the Irish lad today, all he could hope was that the boy brought his skateboard into college for him.
The boy grumbled the whole way to the bus stop, his headphones blaring Queen to distract himself from the rather shitty week he had been having. The familiar buzz of college kids on the cramped space filled the boy with a small amount of comfort, but overall he was just tired.
By the time they had reached their destination, Louis’ legs had cramped from the position he was sitting in, trying to get as far away from the person next to him as possible. He waited patiently as the teenagers started to file off of the small space, his music still thumping in his ears.
Much to his surprise, he was pulled into a bro hug the second he walked off the bus, his nose filling with Stan’s familiar scent, making him smile finally. The boys walked together towards the building, Stan’s arm still swung around the smaller omegas shoulders.
“So, how’s my favourite little omega this morning then?” Stan teased as they walked, wiggling his eyebrows in excitement.
Louis rolled his eyes at his friends’ antics, still very much annoyed from the day before, something which Stan was seeming to find amusing.
“I’ll be fine once I find that blonde freak and get my board back.” Louis snapped back with a shake of his head, irritation creeping back in. He had history first period again, meaning it wouldn’t be long before he saw the boy. His eyes had already begun to scan the carpark for any signs of the omega, although he was fairly sure the boy would be late again.
“Ah yes, the blondie. Let’s hear it then, what’s the alpha like?” Stan questioned having not been able to get much out of Louis the night before on that key piece of information. Lou just shrugged in reply, not really sure what he was supposed to say.
The alpha had been relatively polite to Louis, but intimidating at the same time. He had an air of authority that even Niall couldn’t fight and this peaked Louis interest. But that was as far as it had gone, the boy was rather mysterious really.
“I didn’t see much of him. He was alright, a little cold but not rude. We only exchanged like 3 sentences together the whole time I was there.” Louis played the situation down, deciding against telling his friend the way in which his heart thumped rapidly at the mere sight of the older boy.
Stan was not satisfied though, as they reached Louis locker, he continued the interrogation.
“C’mon man, I didn’t get my butt out of bed this morning early, to hear that. Gimme something good. Was he attractive? How did he smell? Did he make you weak at the knees?” Stan poked his friends side at the last comment, making an exaggerated knee buckle movement in teasing.
Louis’ face flushed a bright red as he watched his friends antics, slapping him hard across the chest in annoyance.
“He was alright looking, I can’t bloody remember how he smelt as I wasn’t really that interested and no I did not go weak at the knees for him. I am Louis Tomlinson, I don’t buy into this alpha fangirl shit.” Louis wasn’t being 100 percent truthful to his friend. He could remember exactly how the alpha smelt, in fact he could practically smell it now.
Harry smelt warm, like a soft fire burning in the grate and hot chocolate on a cold afternoon. He smelt earthy but with a hint of sweet.
But Louis would be damned if he was going to tell Stan this.
The boy slammed his locker shut, the frustration seeping back into his veins. If he never saw that Irish lad again, it would be too soon. But unfortunately he had to get his board back, and they also had a project together.
“I have to go to class.” Louis grumbled in annoyance, his eyes scanning the hallways to see if he could catch a glimpse of the bleach blonde quiff. Stan walked his friend to the door, chatting the whole way about some random crap. Louis didn’t may Stan much mind, his brain a whirlwind of thoughts about his last 24 hours.
When Louis entered his classroom, he wasn’t surprised to see a mostly empty classroom. He got himself situated, keeping his head down as others started to file inside. The teacher was at the front, scribbling on the whiteboard and mostly ignoring the teenagers in the room. When the lesson started, Louis noted that Niall still hadn’t arrived to class, which didn’t surprise the omega.
It wasn’t until the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson, that Louis’ concern peaked. Niall hadn’t arrived to class at all, meaning Louis would not be able to catch him that morning. He was already feeling panicked about having to approach the other omega, and the fact he couldn’t just get it over with was torture.
The rest of the day was spent with Louis scouring the hallways as he wandered around the building, but with no luck. Over the course of the day he had realised he knew almost nothing about the other omega. He didn’t know who he was friends with, where they hung out or how he could get hold of the boy. Luckily, he had one nosey best friend who will most definitely have a few answers for the boy.
Louis approached the table, noting that Stan was sat around with his other alpha and beta friends from the football team. Louis would love to play, but the others were quite rough and so no omegas were allowed on the main footie team. There was an omega team, but it was hardly football at all. Louis did not class himself in that sort of league, he could play just fine. If only he was a little stronger.
“Hi guys.” Louis mumbled as he slumped down in the seat opposite Stan, the others on the table nodding a greeting his way. They all knew Louis was a good kid, quiet and studious but sweet. Louis placed his head in his hands and groaned.
“No luck Tommo?” Stan questioned, raising one eyebrow in question to which the omega shook his head. “Well what happened?”
“That’s the problem Stan. Nothing happened. He didn’t show today.” Louis grumbled, stabbing his fork into a small Tupperware box of pasta. The look on the omega’s face was pretty adorable, a sulky pout sported his lips.
Stan sent his friend a small smile, unable to contain his fondness.
“Well look at the bright side, he hasn’t ignored you.” Stan tried to lighten the mood, but Lous just shot him a death stare, to which the beta raised his hands in innocence. “Okay, okay well we need a new game plan then.”
“I just need my board back. It’s like my most expensive thing.” Louis looked so upset, staring into the tomato pasta which he was just continuously stabbing with his fork but not attempting to eat. “Do you know where he would be now?” Louis asked curiously.
Stan thought for a moment before leaning over to the other lads around the table.
“Hey, anyone know the Horan boy?” He questioned, causing Louis’ cheeks to instantly heat up. He did not want everyone in the school finding out about his issue with the omega.
One of the boys across from Louis nodded his head, giving a vague answer, “Yeah he usually hangs around Whyte and Blake.”
“And where would he be, like right now?” Stan asked, no attempt at asking subtly.
“Well it’s sunny out so your best bet would be by the bleachers outside. If not, then they usually eat in here.” The other lad replied, his head turning to scan the room for the blonde. Louis watched curiously as the lad craned his neck, before turning back to the pair. “Whyte and Blake are over by the window, but I can see Horan.”
Stan shot his friend a quick smile in thanks before turning to Louis. The omega could feel all eyes on the table land to him as Stan stated,
“Guess he aint in today.”
Louis scoffed, trying to play it cool in front of the football lads as he shrugged.
“Whatever, thanks.”
--
Louis had pulled his homework out after this interaction and started to ignore the laddish banter around him. It wasn’t until he was about to rise from his seat to make it to his last lesson of the day, that Stan grabbed his wrist.
“What’s your gameplan then?” He asked to which Louis shot him a confused glance. “To get your board back.” Stan pushed, his tone condescending as he rolled his eyes.
“Oh, I don’t know Stan.” Louis sighed. He didn’t want to be late for his next lesson but Stan still hadn’t released his wrist.
“You could go to his house after school. Ask for it back?”
Louis nearly choked on his own spit. Is Stan for real?
“I am not doing that.” Louis shook his head stubbornly. There was absolutely no way he was going back to that house.
“Just an idea.” Stan laughed, before bidding Louis goodbye and leaving for his last lesson.
Louis had absolutely no idea how he actually ended up standing in front of the omegas damn house, an hour after school had finished. The walk had been torture, mostly up hill it seemed never ending. The boy could feel his backpack pressing the shirt to stick to his back in a sweaty mess. His hair was probably a state and he was sure his face was flushed.
But he was here, and he wasn’t going to leave until he got what he came for.
“Cmon Louis, be strong like a beta. Heck, like an alpha. You can do this.” He hyped himself up before walking across the road to stand in front of the houses huge gates.
With a shaky finger he pressed the intercom, having to wait for a few seconds until the muffled voice came through the speaker.
“Yes?” The voice snapped, seeming annoyed to have been interrupted.
“My name is Louis. I left my skateboard here last night an-“ Before the boy could finish his sentence, the gates beeped and slowly started to creak open. Louis was taken aback by the rudeness of the interaction, feeling his face flush even brighter than before.
The boy made his way up the long driveway. He couldn’t wait to get his board back and begin his journey home. He was already dreaming about the fanta fruit punch he would buy from the corner store as a reward for himself.
He didn’t have to knock when he reached the front door, as someone was already looming in the doorway with their arms crossed.
“Hi.” Louis squeaked, his confidence blowing away in the wind.
“Come.” The alpha stated, before waltzing into the house. Louis watched his form descend, before quickly rushing into the home. Awkwardly, he toed the door closed, glancing around in confusion before practically chasing after the older boy.
The alpha had dark hair, tanned skin and a very chiselled face. He was absolutely gorgeous. His eyes were pretty dull however, whereas Harry had a small sparkle within his. This alpha didn’t seem like he had much time for the omega, which Louis didn’t mind. He just wanted to grab his board and go.
They arrived in the kitchen, Louis already familiar with the room from the day before. The omega was practically knocked out by the scent within the room, he knew Harry was inside the room before he even saw him.
“Hello Louis.” His voice grumbled lowly, sitting at the breakfast bar with his hands folded in front of him.
Louis couldn’t trust his voice not to squeak so he opted on a wave instead.
The other alpha was watching him carefully, making Louis feel even more self-conscious. He began picking at the threads on his jumper, his gaze down by his feet.
“I came for my skateboard.” Louis explained when a few seconds had passed in silence.
“We know.” The other alpha snapped, with an eye roll. He was watching the small omega with an intense glare. They knew what the boy could have witnessed the day before and had been absolutely furious with their own omega for bringing him inside the walls of their home.
“Zayn,” Harry chastised with a shake of his head. “don’t take your anger out on the poor omega.”
Louis really was blushing now. He had never been referred to in such a way and he felt embarrassed. He was no poor omega; he was strong and brave. How else did he end up in this awkward position?
“Whatever.” Zayn dismissed, his eyes still raking over Louis body.
“Look, I am just here for my board.” Louis snapped, his frustration starting to rise, “So give it back and I can get out your hair.”
The two alphas were a little shocked by the omegas tone.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Louis muttered; did he stutter?
Harry rose from his chair, a smirk on his face.
“The little omega speaks.” He teased, before approaching the boy in interest. Louis lifted his chin in defiance, his eyes sparked with anger.
“This poor little omega is becoming bored. So I would appreciate if you would be quicker in getting my board.”
Louis’ breath hitched into the back of his throat as Harry’s hand gripped his waist aggressively. His fingers were digging into the skin above his hip, making a low whine escape the omega’s lips.
“I would watch your tone darling.” Harry warned, the smirk still plastered on his face. “You are walking very thin ice.”
Louis tried to pull out of Harry’s grip, feeling his heart thump loudly in his chest.
Zayn was watching the whole interaction as he leant against the kitchen cupboards, he hadn’t chosen to talk until then.
“Where are your manners little omega?” He growled in annoyance.
Louis tried to bite his tongue, he had never had two alphas try to dominate him in such a way before and he had no idea how to react. His natural instincts called for him to bear his neck and submit, but his mind was screaming at him that Louis Tomlinson submits to no one.
“Please.” The boy whined as Harry leant down into his neck. “I just want my board.” Louis’ voice trembled as he fought back tears. Harry took one last deep breathe into Louis’ neck before he turned to the other alpha.
“You’re lucky you smell so sweet dandelion. Zayn get the poor baby his board.” Harry’s words were meant to be belittling but Louis couldn’t help but preen at the soft words. No one had ever treated him this way and he was both frustrated and obsessed.
Zayn left the pair alone, Harry didn’t let go of the omega’s hip but was now looking completely over Louis’ head.
When the alpha arrived back into the room with Louis’ board, the omega pushed himself from Harry’s grasp and went to retrieve his skateboard. But before he could take his possession Zayn moved his hand away, his eyebrow raised.
“And what do you say?” He questioned teasingly.
Louis huffed.
“Give it to me.” He stated with as much confidence as he could muster.
“I haven’t heard that magic word.”
“Now.” Louis all but seethed, his hands on his hip in an attempt to look intimidating. The alphas in the room just thought he looked adorable.
“Goodness little dandelion, you really are a rude omega.”
Louis felt his heart ache at the words. Omega’s want nothing more than to please. But Louis didn’t think he was like that at all, he has always been careless around alphas, not affected by them in the slightest. But these two large alphas in front of him were messing with his emotions, bad.
“Thank you.” Louis whispered, his eyes down at the ground.
He felt a hand pat his head, making him cringe.
“My pleasure.” Zayn laughed, finally handing over the board.
Louis turned on his heels and darted past the other alpha by the door, before either of them could process what was happening. The omega needed to get out of this house, and he wasn’t going to waste another second.
Unfortunately, he felt two form arms wrap around his waist, just as the front door came into sight.
“Woah, woah little dandelion.” Harry’s voice whispered into his ear; Louis could feel the warm breath fan across his face. “Not even going to say goodbye?”
“Goodbye” Louis whined quickly, kicking his legs in front of him in an attempt to pull away.
Harry chuckled, Louis felt his whole chest ride and fall as he laughed, the pair were pressed extremely close together and all Louis could smell was Harry. The scent calmed him some, but not enough.
“We have one more thing we wanted to tell you.” Harry explained calmly, still whispering into Louis’ ear. “You are not to come here again. Whatever you were doing with Niall, he can do at your house. Understand?”
The alpha’s voice was so full of timbre, it made Louis’ whole body shudder. He was agreeing to the statement before he could even fully process what Harry had said.
“Good boy.” Harry patted Louis’ ass as he pulled the front door open. “Off you go then sweetheart, stay out of trouble now.”
Louis ran as fast as his legs could carry him and he didn’t dare turn back to see the two alphas watching him go in amusement. |
something’s off.
soonyoung can feel it because he has let the ball go about three times in the first half and seungkwan hasn’t even raised his voice once. it’s honestly fucking with his own gameplay. it’s like at this point he counts on the coach screaming and yelling to play better.
as the team walks to the sides, he makes a beeline for seungkwan and grabs him by the arm. “hey coach,” he says, grinning as they leave the field.
“ow, whyyy,” seungkwan whines, but there’s no bite in it. he saw this coming.
they stop outside a bathroom, leaving the team’s chattering behind. soonyoung crosses his arms. “you tell me why,” he says.
he doesn’t elaborate because seungkwan immediately averts his gaze and his lower lip juts out in a pout.
“you are so dramatic, seungkwan-ah.”
“me? me, i haven’t forgotten the story of how you and jihoon hyung got together, when you stopped going to class when you realized he--”
“we all know the story, thank you,” soonyoung interrupts. for another time. “so do you like him?”
soonyoung enjoys the few moments of seungkwan spluttering, trying to gather himself and failing completely. mission accomplished. “so what if i do?” he says defensively.
“you should tell him. shoot your shot.”
“haha. ha.”
“you don’t think he feels the same way about you?”
“idunno.”
soonyoung’s heart breaks in two. he’s seen the two of them this whole time, and he feels compelled to tell seungkwan that hansol smiles at him when he looks towards soonyoung murderously. that he’s fidgety, that he pushes his hair behind his ear when they talk, that he laughs extra loud at the ridiculous things he says. that every time he goes to grab seungkwan, he hesitates for a second and holds him in the gentlest way possible. he wants to remind seungkwan that the very glass of coffee he has in his hand was one of the many that hansol brought for him along with his own. he never brought coffee for wonwoo. just seungkwan.
but he doesn’t do that.
“c’mon, we have to get back to the field.”
⚽
jihoon hyung hey kid do you wanna come to seungkwan’s birthday party
oh my god sorry hansol jihoon has no skills
hi its soonyoung! :D
what he MEANT to say was we’re throwing seungkwan a surprise birthday party and we REALLY want you to come! it’s in two days so friday and presents aren’t mandatory but he loves them! don’t stress about it, because he really does love any and all presents and i’m SURE he’ll love anything you get him :)
anyway please come he’d love to have you! and so would weeeeee
to: [email protected]
from: [email protected]
RE: Interview
Dear Hansol,
Thank you for your email! It was lovely to speak with you on the phone as well. Your resume is very impressive, which is why we would love to schedule an in-person interview with you tomorrow. Please let me know if you’d be up for that and we can discuss timings as well.
Thank you!
Kim Minyoung
⚽
seungkwan knows he shouldn't sulk. there's no reason to, after all – it's his birthday. his team and friends threw him a surprise birthday party, complete with karaoke and all his favorite food and joke birthday cake in the shape of a soccer field – fondant people included! too many little fondant people. it's just another reminder hansol isn't there, as if the fact that even in a room with eleven other people, seungkwan can tell someone’s missing.
there's a lot of alcohol too, because they're all idiots who don't care about their big game in a few days. he's made a decent sized dent in it himself – a sacrifice for the sake of his players' sports scholarships. he's just being a good coach. he started earlier when he got to the noraebang, searched for hansol in the group but couldn't find him. he figured with how close the guy is with all of his players, they would've asked him to come. even if they didn't ask as a friend, shouldn't he be there when seungkwan is around his team? that's his job.
“hey birthday boy,” jihoon now says, beer bottle in hand as seungkwan approaches him. soonyoung isn’t anywhere near him, opting to get on the karaoke mic. small blessings, because what seungkwan is about to ask is embarrassing, and soonyoung would never let him live. “you look like you hate your surprise party, which makes no sense because you’ve been unsubtly hinting all year that you wanted one.”
“hi hyung,” seungkwan says, slumping against the wall. “out of curiosity, did you invite anyone else to this?”
jihoon seems to smirk, but wipes it off his face in a millisecond. takes a sip. “hm, i don’t know, is anyone unaccounted for?”
“hyung,” seungkwan whines.
“i can neither confirm nor deny, sorry.”
that means hansol was invited, but it’s been an hour and a bit of this and he hasn’t showed up. cool.
he decides to get absolutely piss drunk. why not. it’s his party.
it’s when he makes the (socially) (for his dignity) mistake of mixing his drinks, too much soju with too much whiskey, and is wailing ooh ahh that he vaguely hears a door somewhere open. probably more food. back to twice.
there are cheers coming from his left, and lots of chatter suddenly so he turns and – he can't have shit in this house. because of course hansol makes his way towards him, disheveled hair, in a blazer, with a gift bag in one hand, a bottle of wine in another, laughing, breathless, effortlessly beautiful.
“seungkwan, hi!” he exclaims, spotting him. “happy birthday, i'm so sorry i was late.”
when he's within earshot, seungkwan mumbles a, “s'okay,” before handing his mic to seokmin. they’re not, but it really feels like everyone has stopped what they’re doing and are instead watching them. seungkwan does his best to ignore any potential stares, and raises his chin at hansol.
he holds up the gift bag. “i hope you like it,” he says.
seungkwan thanks him, the hair on his arm standing up from their fingers touching momentarily. ridiculous reaction considering that’s the least amount of contact they’ve had. he hates it here. “i open my gifts later, but come on, let me set up the wine and you can tell me why you weren’t on time.”
hansol laughs, scratching the back of his head nervously. they make their way to the drinks table, where seungkwan quickly pours him a glass of the punch soonyoung prepared that’s less punch, more...something that’s making his head spin way too much. “here.”
“i had a thing,” is all hansol says. he’s not meeting seungkwan’s eye. so of course he jumps to the worst conclusions. the only reason he would not tell him exactly where he was is because he was on a date. well, fine, whatever. see if seungkwan cares. because he doesn’t.
“a thing.”
“i couldn’t miss it.”
the rational part of his brain tells seungkwan that if hansol was on a date he wouldn’t have left it to come to a party. with the way he looks? he should’ve been on his way to an apartment to have the best sex of his life, but oh no, that’s a dangerous place to go to. never mind. he wants to open the present, but mingyu would kill him in cold blood if he broke tradition.
⚽
hansol has no idea what he did wrong – other than arriving late, he supposes.
the birthday boy hardly looks at him after handing him his drink. he jets off to the mic, and sings his heart out. which is great and all, but in his heart, he’d expected more...excitement. at the prospect of hanging out not on the field.
seungkwan drunk is a Character. he’s flushed, and you wouldn’t be able to tell that he spends most of his time at work screaming bloody murder at soonyoung – with whom he is currently arm-in-arm, yelling the lyrics to stronger by kelly clarkson. he turns around at the end of it to face all of them and strikes a pose for mingyu who’s ready with his camera.
maybe hansol's overthinking it. he's too wired from giving his interview so he’s going insane.
the interview. he seriously underestimated how much time he would have in between it and the party, and so embarrassingly showed up in his suit that he definitely sweated into, but he was also riding on a high because minyoung had smiled at the end of their meeting and told him things were looking good for him. he takes advantage of it and lets himself loose, grabbing a mic and singing a ballad or two with wonwoo.
but seungkwan isn’t talking to him. he’s stumbling around their room, and laughing loudly at jokes and receiving his birthday wishes and presents, and he looks so good - switching out his usual sweats and hoodies for a delicate silk shirt and trousers that did wonders for his already fantastic ass (not that hansol was looking on purpose) (shut up) - it took him aback slightly, and he’s still struggling to get over it.
he’s about two drinks down and not feeling much when jihoon comes up to him, with a seungkwan practically over his shoulder.
“is he okay?” hansol asks immediately, frowning at seungkwan’s limp figure.
jihoon nods. “he’d asked me to cut him off, but that point has been reached and breached because i lost him.”
“lost him.”
“he’s been running around and taking every shot offered to him like he’s hiding and avoiding something.” he looks at hansol meaningfully.
ah. so he wasn’t acting normally. “why would he be avoiding me?”
jihoon shrugs. “i dunno, but you’re the least drunk person here, and he asked to be taken home, so i’m volunteering you as tribute.”
“i...what?” hansol is so confused. even if he did, seungkwan would hate that hansol was taking him home. seeing as they’re not on speaking terms anymore or something. god, he’d be pissed.
“hansol please. take the hint.” jihoon rolls his eyes, as he passes on the slumped seungkwan to him, who’s murmuring incoherently.
“i don’t even know where he lives,” hansol protests.
“give me your phone, i’ll put in the address.”
it’s a bit of a struggle, because jihoon is tipsy enough that he can’t spell seungkwan’s neighborhood right for a good two minutes, but eventually gets there, and bids adieu to hansol.
“we’ll send over his presents tomorrow, tell him not to worry!”
-
seungkwan’s lightly breathing against hansol’s neck. it makes him twitch slightly, but it’s not exactly unwelcome.
the bus ride isn’t too smooth so he constantly bumps against seungkwan, stirring him occasionally but he seems too tired to open his eyes fully.
“did you have a good time?” hansol asks softly. just for something to do. he doesn’t love when it gets too quiet.
“mmfh,” seungkwan replies, muffled and unintelligible.
“well, i had a lovely time. except for one thing. the host wasn’t the best, he barely spoke to me.”
seungkwan breathes through his mouth. hot air hits hansol’s neck, tickling him slightly. makes him smile.
“yeah, i know, right? super rude. i forgive him though, because he is the birthday boy. he should be allowed to do what he wants. truth is, i would probably let him do whatever regardless.” saying it out loud, hansol knows it to be true. he’s not really mad at seungkwan - how could he be?
“oh! i meant to tell you, if you were even speaking to me, i had an interview today, which is why i look like a potato.” he shakes his head. “i almost didn’t go. realized on the way there that if i get the job, i wouldn’t need this gig. which is so stupid, but i’d be lying if i said i wouldn’t miss you guys.” he pauses between the you and guys. “anyway, i think we’re at your stop, so let’s go.”
he doesn’t know what to do once they eventually get to seungkwan’s apartment. jihoon had informed him of the extra key under the ceramic sheep at the door, which he gets out with immense difficulty on account of a fully grown man leaning on him for support. hansol admires his dedication to being unconscious through all the jostling. the headache must be splitting.
“let’s get you to bed,” he murmurs, as they walk into the dark hallway.
his only light source is the streetlights from outside, but it’s a one bedroom so it’s obvious where he needs to go.
after getting seungkwan’s shoes off and tucking him in as best as he can, hansol takes one last look at him, breathing deeply, his face peeking ever so slightly over the covers.
he leaves, willing his heart to stop pounding so fast.
⚽
seungkwan is surprised that he wakes up in his own bed. blinks at the ceiling.
and then the pain hits him right in the temple.
“ugh,” he moans into his pillow.
he has to remind himself that he decided to do this to himself, that there’s little point in regretting it. nice of whoever brought him home to do so. he asked for that too, but honestly expected to wake up cocooned between mingyu and minghao.
after stretching in bed, he immediately goes to check his phone when - there’s a glass of water covered by a coaster, a single aspirin and a folded note on top of it.
seungkwan picks up the note with one hand, pops the pill with the other and washes it down.
happy birthday again. take this if you wake up at all in the morning. - hansol
oh shit oh fuck oh god. he did not - why would hansol - he’s going to kill whoever let this happen.
he picks up his phone, and opens his message threads. there’s over 100 messages on the team group chat, a few from his family group chat, late birthday wishes. he ignores them all and opens a new thread and sends a, hey, thank you for bringing me home last night! and for the pill it’s helping a lot. bites his lip, adds a smiley emoji, because he really is grateful.
he switches over to the group chat, ignores all the messages, types WHY THE FUCK DO YOU ALL HATE ME SO MUCH!!!!!!!!
in that time, hansol has replied: no biggie. see you soon
huh. he didn’t take hansol to be such a blunt texter. he sends back: yes! so excited for the final!!!
delivered. seen.
seen.
he’s pacing the whole apartment by the time jihoon and soonyoung show up with his pile of presents.
“hey, why do you look the way you did when i missed that one goal?” soonyoung asks, not bothering to say hello.
“i was disrespected,” seungkwan explains.
“i’m shocked.”
“by hansol.”
soonyoung’s eyes widen at that, but jihoon laughs.
“babe,” soonyoung says, clearly as shocked by this reaction as seungkwan is.
jihoon shakes his head but his giggles die down as he says, “sorry, what did you expect exactly? you were being such a dick to him last night?”
he what?
seungkwan starts. “what do you mean, i would never—”
“you didn’t speak two words to him. i think you sang a breakup song to him at one point. he tried so hard to talk to you, and you just zoomed away.”
it comes back to him in bits and pieces as jihoon narrates the night’s events to him. he vaguely recalls stopping mingyu’s concert to put on kelly clarkson to let his feelings be known. fuck knows why he wanted to do that, because now hansol hates him. this is awful.
jihoon and soonyoung try to cheer him up by sitting him down and helping unwrap presents. it kind of distracts him for a while, and some of their jokey ones bring a small smile to his face, but he can’t help but glance at his phone every two minutes to see if there’s a notification.
it never does come.
-
or, well. it does. at six pm, when seungkwan is preparing vegetable soup with udon noodles for his dinner, his phone tings at him. he looks at it while pouring his food into a bowl, and almost splashes hot soup all over him.
setting the pot down, and himself into a chair, he breathes in deeply.
hey, sorry for leaving you hanging, i was visiting my mom she adopted a cat without telling us so ofc i had to take the train there super excited for the final toooooo go pelican-tigers! why are you guys called that anyway
seungkwan laughs. the ancestors have his back, after all. as he slurps up soup, he types out his reply
no worries!!! that’s so exciting actually you need to send me pictures ! it’s a long story, tbh. too long to type out
thirty seconds later, his phone rings.
“i’m free,” hansol says, the second seungkwan picks up. he can hear the grin. all gums and teeth, so cute seungkwan could cry. “are you tiger-pelican hybrids? what part tiger and what part pelican? why those two?”
“wow, i’ve never met someone so curious about this.”
“you’re telling me no one else has asked.”
“anyone who knows us has just accepted it, honestly.”
“well, i want to be let in on the secret!”
seungkwan chuckles, any and all tension leaving him, as it often does once he gets used to being in hansol’s magnetic field of sorts, feeling comfortable and at ease. “it’s actually not that long of a story, i kind of deceived you on that. when we were deciding on the name for the team, soonyoung hyung wanted to be tigers because he thought they were cool, and jihoon hyung wanted to be pelicans because it’s unique.
“it was terrible. felt like we were watching their foreplay before they got together officially in front of our eyes. considered bleaching poor chan baby’s eyes.”
“oh my god.” hansol’s laughing so hard, he’s almost silent. “wait, so did they come to a compromise?”
“i wish,” seungkwan says, rolling his eyes. “everything they did to decide came up to a tie. every rock-paper-scissors game. every penalty round. we tried to vote and it didn’t work. eventually this led to them making out in my office.” the image of them and their noises coming from his room remain ingrained in his mind forever. “and they figured if they’re together then their animals could be too.”
“i’m so sorry,” hansol says, but he doesn’t sound sorry in the least.
“yes, yes, laugh at my misery, everyone else does.”
they chat for a little bit more, time getting away from them. seungkwan asks hansol about his mom, who he seems to love a lot, because he’s perfect like that.
“she sent over sweets which i’ll bring for you guys tomorrow, of course. as part of the victory snacks when we win.”
“please, don’t jinx it,” seungkwan pleads. “wait. sweets. what’s the occasion?”
“oh...they. just as a pre-congratulations for a potential job offer.”
the noise that comes out of seungkwan’s mouth is indescribable. “why didn’t you tell me,” he all but demands.
“i tried,” hansol replies, cutting the rant that was bubbling out of seungkwan off. “last night! i came straight from the interview but you wouldn’t. well.” he coughs. this is awkward. fuck’s sake.
he has to say something. clearly the fact that he spent the entire evening barely acknowledging hansol because he’s too pussy to be around his crush whilst inebriating wasn’t going to go unnoticed. it was out of self-preservation, damn it! but how could he tell hansol that? over the phone too! they deserve better than that. they deserved better than seungkwan blurting out some horny ass shit to hansol when he couldn’t control his tongue. so.
“oh...oh right.” he tries to rack his brain for an excuse. anything. “i’m so sorry. to be completely honest, i was annoyed at you.”
“what’d i dooooo?” the pout. seungkwan can see it.
“well...look, okay, i thought you were invited and you bailed, and i was pissed so. i got very drunk.”
“i did not realize i had this effect on you, seungkwan.”
seungkwan splutters. “look, okay, it’s not like that, i was just excited to see you outside of our little arrangement, sorry if that’s a bad thing—”
hansol laughs, and it really is the most wonderful sound. they’re dangerously close to having a Conversation, and again, seungkwan isn’t sure he wants to have it over the phone, and also right before the final. where hansol will most likely be. ready to catch seungkwan in his arms.
but because he’s the best person ever, hansol accepts this excuse, doesn’t press any further, and they continue for a bit more. seungkwan asks about the interview, and hansol thinks there’s a good chance he’ll get it, and of course seungkwan is happy for him, so he tries his best to ignore the tiny voice in his head telling him that if he gets the job, he won’t see hansol again for a long time.
⚽
The Big One.
it’s here.
hansol has never seen the team so quiet.
they’d been at the stadium all day, practising, and warming up, and getting ready. no one provoked seungkwan for no reason at all, listening to his every word.
the game is going fairly well. no one has scored yet and it’s been about ten minutes. hansol - and wonwoo - stay close to seungkwan, who’s biting his nails as his eyes dart from player to player.
it’s a different kind of stressed - hansol wants to reach out and hold his hand. so he does.
“wh—”
hansol loosens his grip on seungkwan’s right hand but he doesn’t let go. instead, he holds it up slightly and rubs circles onto the back of it. “this helps me calm down sometimes,” he explains.
seungkwan gives him an unreadable look. but he doesn’t yank his hand away. just nods. “i’ve heard that somewhere.”
he continues the motion, and seungkwan - who was slightly shaking - seems visibly calmer, which is good. but hansol’s heart is doing somersaults, because it was such an impulse decision, the implications of his actions didn’t occur to him. they’re basically holding hands now.
he hopes seungkwan can’t feel how hot his skin suddenly gets, but he probably does.
this is much worse than having his arms engulf seungkwan, somehow. because after their phone call, he was forced to confront his feelings and it was not fun, and jisoo laughed at him when he vomited out gross things about liking seungkwan’s red dyed hair, and how sometimes he lets him yell for a bit before grabbing him and that he smells nice, and is a great conversationalist and has these little things that are just so seungkwan, it was all so disgusting.
on top of everything he’s expecting a call about the job at some point. he needs someone to rub circles on his own hand.
⚽
they win 1-0 because kwon soonyoung is a lot of things - a pain in seungkwan’s ass about 80% of the time. but he’s a damn good striker, and he loves to win. he would not leave a game without proving both of these statements true.
as the crowd roars (literally - soonyoung’s fans are as insane as he is), the team run towards each other, tumbling and falling as they hug. wonwoo, seungkwan and hansol are there too, already on their way the second soonyoung made the goal.
at their victory meal, everyone sits at a long table, chattering away, sipping on their drinks as they wait for food when seungkwan gets up and clears his throat.
the noise dies down, and all eyes are on him.
“everyone, i wanted to say a few words,” he starts. “i know i’m hard on you. every game is important to me, and i make you treat every one of them like it’s the last one you ever will. but you know why i do it. this team that i’ve only had only for a little...we’ve been underdogs. we’ve been doubted. why? because we’re ‘too young’ and i ‘don’t understand the nuances of the game,’ and we ‘won’t make it too far’? look at us now.”
he glances at hansol on his left, who’s looking at him wide-eyed. he looks around at each face at the table. mingyu has tears in his eyes, and seungkwan knew he could count on him to be as emotional as he feels.
“anyway, i won’t bore you. i can see our food coming in, so feast my babies!”
“we are all older than you, seungkwan,” comes seungcheol’s voice from the other end of the table.
-
it happens about fifteen minutes into the meal. a phone starts ringing.
“it’s mine,” hansol announces. he looks at the screen, and his expression changes.
“is it…” seungkwan asks, not wanting to finish the sentence. oh.
hansol nods, and as he answers, gets up and walks away to talk.
the rest of the team knows, and they all stop their conversations for the second time, as if they too want to know how much longer they have with him.
it’s the longest three minutes of seungkwan’s life it seems like. hansol eventually hangs up, turns around and comes back. his face is blank. only for a second though, because then he breaks out into the biggest grin, and nods. “i got it,” he says.
a few things happen: the whole team bangs the table surface in celebration, and everyone closest to hansol get up to pat him on the back, but none of them are as a quick as seungkwan who gets up and flings himself onto hansol, arms around his neck and hugging him so tight.
“i’m so happy for you,” he says into hansol’s ear.
“you’re just happy to be rid of me,” hansol quips. “don’t lie - you’ll miss these guns.”
seungkwan lets go and scowls at him. “you’re not cute when you do that, you know.” pauses, then says, “so what if i will?” he pretends not to notice hansol glancing at his lips for a second.
“oh my god, can you just kiss, we’re so tired.”
“that is rich coming from you, lee jihoon...hyung,” seungkwan says weakly, looking at the goalie. he sticks his tongue out at them all, turns back to hansol, grabs his face, and kisses him. it’s a bit, well — he hits hansol’s teeth, because he won’t stop laughing, he’s embarrassing seungkwan, please, but eventually they do kiss properly, and it feels like the biggest weight has been lifted from his shoulder and he knows this isn’t goodbye; rather a new beginning, and he can’t wait. |
For a human, Steven’s blood pressure is impossibly low. As Pearl runs her fingers over his chest and neck, she has the sense that a normal organic would have already gone into shock. Perhaps it’s a lingering effect of his hybrid biology, or the routine application of Diamond essence that keeps his body from collapsing in on itself.
He’s still too cold, she thinks, and wonders about getting him another blanket. After his other half left the room, they had done their best to get him bundled up and calm - the former was a lot easier than the latter, even if he has developed a reflexive resistance to having his movement restricted. It took a while for his breathing to regulate, but now it’s settled on the shallow side of normal.
It’s hard to choose the right words. With so many of them here, so desperate to latch onto his limited awareness, she worried that they will only smother him. They’ve all been waiting for the chance to speak to him, to tell him how much he means to them in case he slips away again. She spent so long wondering what she would do if she never got another chance.
She could have spoken to his other half, she supposes, and during their time waiting she’s tried. In reality, though, she knows even less what to do with an empty gem that she does with a human. Nothing she knows of Steven seems to apply to his gem, and that’s not the case with his leftover human side. She can see her Steven in there, even if he’s drowning in circumstances she can’t comprehend.
He speaks with emotion. He cries. He cares. Upon seeing her, he said her name. These are the luxuries she’s been missing. She clings to them, even as his demeanor remains unmistakably changed. There’s too much fear. He can’t hold a conversation for longer than a few minutes without losing track of himself. He’s in so much pain, with no ability to hide it.
After those first hectic moments, they take turns sitting with him. They try not to tire him with questions, allowing him to speak when he wants to speak, and answering him instead. He has a lot of questions, and many of them he asks repeatedly, information slipping easily through the cracks in his mind.
“Where am I? Is this real? What’s happening to me? Can we go home? Is it safe? Are you okay? Please... I just want to go home.”
He asks after people who have only strayed out of his sight for minutes at a time. Right now the most common ask is for Connie, who went after Bismuth, who had gone after his gem in turn. Pearl can’t help but worry, but she doesn’t say as much. She tries to trust that the Diamonds are watching for trouble, as hard as it is to trust them with anything.
“She’s right here with us,” she tells him. “She’ll be back soon.”
“I saw her in my dreams,” he explains, his words frail and wandering. “And… and Dad. And Amethyst. Was… Was that real? Did they see me?”
“Yes,” Garnet says, stroking his hair. “You got through to us, Steven. They couldn’t stop you.”
Pearl isn’t sure what difference it made in the long run, besides giving them reason to believe he was still alive. Maybe that’s all it needed to be. More than that, maybe it would help him to believe that he hadn’t been completely powerless, and that something he’d done had mattered.
“Yes, Steven,” Pearl says, perhaps too eager, grasping his hand in hers. “You were so… so strong.” She starts to get choked up. Can’t she do such a simple thing without overwhelming herself? “We love you, Steven. We love you so much.”
Something almost like a smile flickers across his face, before it’s washed away in another wave of discomfort and confusion. It’s like they can’t keep hold of him. Every time it feels like they have his attention, he drifts away again.
“I… I tried to…” he murmurs, his gaze shifting into the middle distance. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Garnet says. “For anything.” Pearl wishes she could sound as confident as her - so gentle and reassuring. Instead, even seeing Steven like this makes her feel like she’s breaking down. She has to fight every moment to keep her panic from spreading to him.
“I thought I was… I couldn’t get up, I couldn’t…” It’s easy to see the struggle behind his eyes, as he tries to sort through the memories that pain him. It feels like he wants to explain, but like he doesn’t know how. All they can do is continue to offer small physical reassurances, reminding him of their presence. “They were… so…”
Pearl can feel the muscles in his hand twitch, his fingers growing tense around hers. She looks up at Garnet, wishing for guidance.
“It’s okay,” Garnet urges. “You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.” Steven looks at her, realization striking.
“Where’s my…” Steven shifts beneath the blankets, searching for something. He starts trying to sit up, his eyes widening, the seeds of panic beginning to germinate. “Where… Oh no. I’m… I’m dying. I’m going to… I can’t…”
“Your gem is here!” Pearl blurts out, desperate to calm him. “It’s just not… inside of you!”
“My gem…” He’s clutching at his belly, lacking the strength to get up despite his effort. Suddenly, he goes limp again, his chest heaving. Tears prickle his eyes as he stares towards the ceiling. “What did I do?”
This isn’t the first time he’s gotten to this point - in the time that he’s been awake, he’s remembered his fight with his other half on a few other occasions, though never with much clarity. He can put it out of mind long enough to calm down, to rest for short amounts of time, but it’s always temporary. It always comes back to this.
“Your gem did what it could to protect you,” Garnet says, unrelenting in that stance. “The reptiloids took away your ability to be yourself.”
“I killed them,” Steven gasps, the first sob of what would probably be many. “I remember… I… I wanted to…”
“No!” Garnet says, and Pearl can sense that she’s having to hold herself. It could easily become a heated argument, were he not so fragile. “They took you away from your gem. They took away part of who you are. You couldn’t possibly consent. To that - or to anything. You weren’t yourself, Steven.”
“It… It doesn’t… They’re dead, because of me.” Steven looks away from her, closing his eyes, the tears forced out and sent rolling down his cheeks. “The Empire hurt them and now they’re dead.”
“They hurt you,” Garnet insists, reaching down to rest a hand on his cheek. “You matter, Steven. You matter as much as they do. No amount of suffering forgives what they’ve done to you. You… You were innocent.” She takes a moment, lowering her volume and calming her tone. “We can mourn the loss of their people once you are healed.”
For a while, Steven weeps, his sorrow only making his already difficult breathing more arduous. Pearl holds his hand close, stroking the back of it with her thumb. This side isn’t quite himself, either, she thinks. How can they make him understand when he isn’t himself?
“He doesn’t care,” Steven finally says, his voice small and frail. “He thinks I’m stupid.”
“Who, Steven?” Pearl prompts, though she thinks she knows.
“My gem… He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about what he did, he… he didn’t have to…”
“Us gems…” Garnet says softly. “We don’t always know a better way, on our own. We think we understand everything from the start. Your gem… he has even less to work with than us. He needs you, Steven, as much as you need him. Even if he doesn’t see that.”
“I… I hate it.” Steven’s response is pure suffering. “He ruined... everything.” He doesn’t know what to do with his situation, he only knows how he feels. At least, in this way, he’s saying it out loud for once.
“You have so much love, and so much forgiveness… for everyone but yourself.” Garnet removes her visor, trying to meet his gaze. All three eyes are creased with regret. “You showed the Diamonds, the entire Empire… you showed us. You showed us things we could never have even imagined. Even me. The past can’t be changed, but people can be. You have to believe that, after everything you’ve seen.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whimpers, and Pearl gasps, wiping at her own tears as they start arriving, out of control. “I-I’m… Everything… It’s never going to be the same…”
“Oh, Steven,” she whispers. “You don’t have to be the same.”
“Caring for others is part of who you are,” Garnet says, leaning close. “But so if defending those you love. You need to think of yourself. Without your gem, you may have never gotten free - and I know it’s not in your nature to accept that cost. But… I believe that he only wanted the best for both of you. Once you are rejoined, he’ll understand - and you can strive for better, together.”
“Is… Is that real?” Steven asks, looking at Garnet. He raises his hand as it to touch her face, but he can’t muster the strength. “Can you see it?” Garnet glances away.
“It can be,” she says, and Pearl can see her strain, even as she tries to hide it. She puts her visor back on, concealing herself before it’s too late. She looks back to him, managing a smile as she ruffles his hair. “We believe in you, Steven. Every part of you.”
Steven slackens at the shoulders, finally beginning to relax. Pearl is relieved, though she wonders how long it will last before it starts eating away at him again. In the end, they don’t get to find out, because circumstances end any chance at rest early.
Steven’s gem is back, and it’s with Bismuth and Connie in tow. His radiantly pink visage stares ahead, taking in the room, only to meet the gaze of his other half - who recoils in reflexive fear. The tension is so powerful between them that it’s almost as if it’s formed of literal waves of energy. Pearl feels desperate to break it.
“St-Steven!” Pearl calls out to his gem, waving nervously. “It’s… It’s good to see you back.”
Bismuth offers her a lopsided smile, and carefully rests a hand on gem Steven’s shoulder. Connie is looking at his gem, too, smiling in a way that seems to be attempting comfort. Pearl can feel her own Steven’s hand begin to clench again, as if he wants her to whisk him away to somewhere else.
“Hey, so… Steven’s been telling us that he wants to go back to the defunct colony we found them on,” Bismuth explains. She doesn’t sound so sure of it herself, but she does sound like she wants to give it a chance. “Think there’s a way we could make that work?”
Human Steven shrinks down, his eyes wide and his shoulders shaking. He stares back at his other half as if he is frozen in terror. Garnet looks up, her mouth falling open, as if she’s just realized something groundbreaking. Her hand blindly finds its way to Steven’s shoulder, squeezing gently.
“Go back,” he murmurs. Across the room, his gem half shallowly nods. |
Draco had decided that his best cause of action after blowing up and showing a very vulnerable side of himself not only to his friends, but to his auror officer and the golden trio. He would stay in the shadows and wallow in his own self-pity for at least the rest of his life. He didn't know whether to include the afterlife into that wallowing, but it was still high up there, on his list.
He had spent his days away from his friends and mostly locked away in his dorm room. Which he also shared with them, but a quick silencing charm and locking spell, they knew not to disturb him. The Slytherin girl who had kept all his notes returned them back to Theo and with his orders relaying back to her; they would continue their research.
It seemed like Potter's guilt had stopped him from questioning whatever it was that Draco was up to.
Draco was not up to anything.
Really. He had stopped all types of learning, researching and networking. The younger years kept asking when he would return to continue the French lessons, and Slughorn grew worried when Draco stopped attending the Extra Potions class to stock up on the calming draughts and such. Draco was in a strop all week and not even the warmer days would get him out of it.
"Would you like to demonstrate to the class, Mr Malfoy?" Professor Flitwick called to his attention.
Draco let out a terribly long sigh and muttered the charm with little enthusiasm. As such, not a lot happened but Flitwick at least didn't call for him to continue. All the professors asked about his Detachment Draught and Draco had about enough sense to politely postpone his research.
They didn't need to know that if he had tried it, he would have liked to drown himself in the blasted potion.
"Draco, my boy!" Slughorn bellowed across the common room. Draco had just returned from class and had intended to spend the rest of his free period taking a nap. He turned and walked over to Slughorn who seemed to be beckoning him over with unconcealed worry.
Draco walked into Slughorn's office, noting that nothing had really changed yet it was so vastly different from Snape's office. Draco felt his cheek almost pulse as if he were chewing on it, because wow- He hadn't thought about Snape at all since he entered Hogwarts. Yet, standing inside of Slughorn's office, that had been decorated to the professor's personal aesthetic for three years, had unleashed memories Draco forgot he had.
He staggered his way into the chair opposite of Slughorn's desk. He dropped his bag on the floor beside his foot and slumped back into his seat like he belonged there. Because, for the better part of his adolescence, he did belong there.
The room was different, but all the same. The size made him feel comfortable, and the way the desk remained a little asymmetrical was gladdening. The fire was coloured gold and a natural warmth that was never there, enveloped Draco.
"I just want you to know that Headmistress McGonagall has explained to me what happened. As the Head of House I was to be informed and auror Goldbeird has given his accounts on what such events-" Slughorn watched Draco roll his eyes and hunch further in on himself.
The older professor sighed and stared directly at Draco. "What is it that you want to do, dear boy?"
Draco crossed his arms and stared at Slughorn impassively. "Professor?"
"You have quite the extraordinary talent in potion making. You take something from that brilliant mind of yours and find ways to actually mould theories and hypotheses behind them. You're a very talented potions maker and I can only assume that Severus had a hand in this talent of yours."
By Merlin, Draco was so depressed even Slughorn stroking at his ego didn't seem to lighten him.
"Severus was always a good teacher to me," Draco muttered. "He was terrible to anyone but the Slytherins, and even then... he didn't deserve to be a teacher," Draco said honestly. "He was Neville's boggart for the longest time, didn't like to work with children and personally had a hand at verbally abusing students in his classroom to the point of damaging their final grades."
Draco always knew this, almost everyone at Slytherin did. It was always easier to look back as a child and snicker in the face of anyone that was beneath him. When he was a teenager, it was easy to simply turn his head away and pretend he didn't see. He was a coward and so was Snape. But he was also Draco's Head of House.
Snape protected Draco when the time came and made sure he didn't have to die on Voldemort's suicide mission. "Severus was not a good teacher."
"And what do you think makes a good teacher?"
Draco gazed up, leaning a little forward and uncrossing his arms. "I think you make a good enough teacher, Professor. I think you know when a student does well, you have an eye for those who are talented." Draco thought back to his Charms classes. "I think a good teacher has to be patient."
He thought about Theo and how he was always patient when he taught Greg their charms. Or how organised Theo was, with his stupid colour coded system that still sometimes gave Draco a headache trying to figure it all out.
"Draco," Slughorn smiled. "What happened?"
Draco felt like someone had put a dry rock in his throat and was forcing him to swallow uncomfortably around the blasted thing. "I don't know," he whispered. "I remember feeling scared. I didn't mean to bring out my wand, sir. It was like instinct." Draco thought back to Fourth Year and their imposter DADA teacher, Mad-Eye Moody, always screaming 'constant vigilance.'
"I just reacted. But I didn't say a word, I didn't do anything. Potter disarmed me, Goldbeird sent a stunner at me-" Draco frowned. He never did go to Madam Pomfrey until the next day when he woke up with the worst ache in his back that he had to skip out on an entire day's worth of lessons.
"Then I remember running, shouting at my friends to leave." Draco breathed in harshly, feeling that his dry throat started to finally ease a little. "I remember screaming at Goldberid." Draco slid back into the chair, turning his face away from Slughorn. He stared at the fireplace instead.
"I threw in some harsh words, but it was like- like I had bottled everything up and it was finally exploding." Draco closed his eyes. "They call me a Death Eater, want me dead or in Azkaban. Some of them forgive me even if I haven't apologised to them yet. Those I understand, those students who blame me for their brother or sisters death I understand."
Draco's hands clenched on air. "But those aurors? I was so tired of them, the way they treat me. I just- you don't know Professor. The words they utter under their breaths when they think we can't hear them. The way they stand, the way they look at us like-" Draco choked on his words. "Like they want any reason to attack us right then and there. I never feel safe when they're around. I never feel like I can breathe with them...
"I thought the war was over, but I battle everyday just to breathe like it means something."
Draco ducked his head, letting his hair cover some of his face as he cried. He bit into his cheek and let the pain ground him whilst his shoulders shook. He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled sharply, with an unsteady breath. "I apologise," he muttered.
"Don't," Slughorn said, giving him a pitying smile.
Draco leant back into his chair and stared up at the ceiling. It was stained a black from all the potion fumes and had definitely seen better days. He felt his body tire itself quickly and a weight lift from his chest. Severus would know what to do, the exact words to cut into his inner psyche and bring him out of his 'episode.'
"What is it that you want to do after you leave Hogwarts, Draco?"
Draco stared at Slughorn, "I don't know. I guess I'll take charge of the Malfoy estates until my father's return. Run the business and focus more on my estates in France. Although..." He hummed noncommittally. "I think Blaise would flourish well in France. I've been meaning to talk to him about conjoining my business there with the Zabini's line."
"Well, that's good. The rest of your friends?"
Draco shrugged, "Pansy was always going to marry into the family. I think I would much rather give her a position in my business in London. That way she can slowly build her reputation by location too. Greg was always sorted, our families have been tied together for some time. He'll work for the Goyles and partner with me.
"Theo is going to take over the Nott Estates come this summertime and I plan on helping him as much as possible. There hasn't been a Nott-Malfoy partnership with our businesses and it seems like that's just the next step." Draco shrugged his shoulders, "Daphne tells us that she has her life sorted, so no one complains. Millie is going to use up her fortune to travel, so I guess I'll see her via owl posts."
Slughorn gave a proud nod, "I understand. And where do you fit in all this?"
Draco sat up straighter, frowning. "I did say I'll take over my father's company-"
"Do you want that?" Slughorn asked.
Draco fiddled around with his gloves before answering. "I assume so. I know everything I need to know about the business. I- I don't think potion making is my true calling," he said honestly.
Slughorn nodded, "Okay then. A Lord you shall become. Now tell me dear boy, how is the Detachment Draught coming along?"
Draco breathed a sigh of relief, giving Slughorn a relaxed smile and started to talk about the potion. He hadn't told him about the other potions he was planning on making. The Detachment Draught was taking up a lot of his time and the publishing of its theory work was slowly killing Draco. He had parchments strewn around with his theory work, the research, his methods.
He had written up three different drafts for his thesis and had both Slughorn and McGonagall read over them many times. It was so close to being done, Draco just needed to tie in the loose ends.
When he was finally let go from Slughorn's office he had wanted nothing more than to just sleep off the rest of the day. Maybe if he convinced his friends hard enough, they'd pity him into not attending classes for the next day. It also helped that Auror Goldbeird had started to become a lot more lenient with Draco ever since he shouted at him. Who knew?
But, as always, he never left anything with particularly pleasant outcomes. Draco narrowed his eyes when he realised that his friends were all sitting in the common room with little-to-no movement to suggest they were going to leave. They all had classes, he knew of it. Well, okay Greg's classes had all finished for the day- but the rest of them? Oh yeah. Definitely up to something.
"What is it?" he drawled, walking over and batting Pansy's feet away from the sofa. She squinted suspiciously at Draco (as if he was the one that wasn't acting bloody awkward) and moved to give him room. He sunk down into the warm, leather couch and watched them all carefully.
It was Daphne that decided to end the silence by clearing her throat. She sat up a little straighter and stared at Draco with a small smile. "We think the answer to finding out about the suspicious activity is in the Auror's Office," she said.
Draco furrowed his brows, "okay... I guess so? But why put all the stuff that you're doing illegally, in a place like that?"
It was Blaise that spoke up this time, "They get a kick out of it. At least my correspondence says so. The Auror's have had quite the positive media coverage in the last couple months, with Potter singing praises about the late Mad-Eye Moody and Tonks. With people looking to him for the next auror position, apparently they're getting their highs in the Ministry. Specifically targeting almost every worker there except the ex-Order members."
Draco slowly nodded, "okay then. So you must have connections in their office. Someone who can get the evidence for us?" he asked.
This is where Theo scowled, "No. No one that still wants their jobs will even think about it. But Blaise's correspondence says they can help distract the aurors so their office is free-reign."
Draco hated where this was going. "Need I remind you all that we're under probation. That we're literally going to be watched even more meticulously after the events a couple days ago?" He stared down at the rest of his friends feeling smug at their guilty faces until Tommy, the prefect, decided to voice his ideas.
"Well, not if you decided to go in for the Auror induction during Easter time," he said. Tommy was reading a muggle book, Draco could tell because it was colourful and paperback. It was an ugly bright yellow colour and had the silhouette of a lizard on the cover. Oh great! Now Draco was actually interested in the book.
"Auror induction?" Pansy inquired, twirling her wand in her hand and giving Tommy a sweet smile.
The boy folded the corner of his book page, like an absolute barbarian, and closed it. "You know, there are bookmarks invented for that," Draco said.
"The Auror induction is open to anyone that wants to become an Auror, and go into training. It's pretty chill, meant for 15 year olds and over. I suspect that they'll give basic training, tell stories of their little adventures and a guided tour," Tommy smirked.
"Tour?" Daphne sat up straighter.
Draco furrowed his brow, "Are we not going to talk about how his boy treats his books?"
This book-hating prefect was draped in one of the leather couches, closest to the fire and had to bend over to throw this pamphlet he summoned, to Blaise.
"I didn't know you were interested in auror work?" Blaise muttered.
"No, I'm not. I just like to keep up-to-date with authoritative figures," he muttered. When the rest of the group stared at the boy he rolled his eyes. "I have an appointment, I also know about three other Slytherins that do too. So?" He looked over at them.
"I don't get it?" Greg said.
"I swore he had a muggle quill, and was writing in his books too!"
Tommy then decided to sit up properly, "I'll give you a strand of my hair. You polyjuice to look like me, go in, find what you need to and also give me details about the aurors." He gave an impish grin, "I do think with careful planning you could get in and out easily."
"He also probably doesn't even alphabetise his books!"
Tommy sighed, turning to Draco. "No, in fact. I sometimes rip out the last page so I'm always left in suspense." He got up, ignored the scandalised gasp from Draco, and left for his dorm probably.
"Well, if Draco brews the potion in our Extra potions club, then we should be fine for the Easter holidays," Daphne nodded.
Draco groaned, flopping on top of Pans, who smacked his back and then stroked his hair. "Oh but Daphne, there is one flaw in this brilliant plan of yours?"
"That is?"
"I am too depressed to brew potions," Draco pouted.
"Even for me?" Theo said, tilting his head to look at Draco by eye-level. Draco groaned, turning away and then shouting out loud. Pansy hit him again. "Well that's settled, we'll start on the polyjuice tomorrow."
***
The polyjuice potion needed to be ready by the Easter holidays.
That was the only instruction that Theo gave him whilst everyone else started to plan. Blaise had to make sure that his correspondence didn't know about their break-in. Yes, they all trusted this correspondence (even if Blaise never mentioned their name) but they were also Slytherin. The only people that knew about their little escapade was their group, Tommy and his mates.
They had enough hair samples for Draco, Theo, Blaise and Millicent to go. Blaise knew the place like the back of his hand, Millie was just chaotic enough to help in case things went awry. Theo was going because he was their leader and Draco because he whined enough for them all to just let him go.
By the time the Easter holidays had turned around, Hogwarts was starting to repair itself. The boring plain walls were starting to liven up. The paintings that were broken after the war were all finally put back together by an adamant Argus Filch who was really talented in the department of art repairs.
Stones shifted and windows started to colour. There were floating candles, and wallpaper that moved with the students. The Great Hall pillars had started to crack and form more intricate designs. What was once a plain greying ceiling now held a watery version of the sky. It wouldn't be the same from Draco's memory of his first day at Hogwarts, but he had a feeling when he came back from the holidays, it would restore itself fully.
He was in the common rooms, exchanging clothes with Tommy, who had given him muggle-wear. "I don't suppose you know anything about layering?" Draco asked, looking at the pair of jeans Tommy gave him and an oversized sweatshirt. The jeans were riding up to his calves, but the sweatshirt was pleasantly soft.
Tommy shook his head and looked down at the formal robes Draco had given him. Tommy was a tiny lad, so he was basically drowning in Draco's attire. The eight of them all exchanged hairs and drank their polyjuice potions respectively. Draco screwed his face up, Tommy's polyjuice tasted like the juice of a lemon. Sour and not pleasant in the slightest.
"Only right that you taste of earl grey," Tommy muttered, pulling his tongue out.
"What's wrong with tea?"
"I hate tea."
Draco gave another scandalised gasp until he started to shorten and Tommy grew. He looked over to his other friends. Watching Theo's pale face turn tan, his eyes a furious blue colour and hair golden-blond. Blaise went from being a black man to a white woman. His hair was a dark brown and oh- Tommy was really short. Draco had to stare up at Blaise and his familiar devilish grin.
Millie looked a little similar, with her face turning a bit more tanner and hair falling in short waves against her shoulders. She gave them all a confident smile and then turned to the other Slytherins. "Thank you for doing this."
"No problem," Blaise's counterpart said.
Pansy, Daphne and Greg were waiting for them in the front room of the common room and grinned when they saw the rest of the group. "Looking good," Pansy patted Draco's arm. "Shall we?"
"Okay?" Tommy said, looking back at Draco for help, but was pulled away too quickly.
Daphne smiled at the rest of them. "So remember, you'll floo to Malfoy Manor in case anything goes wrong. We'll expect you all there by supper time anyway."
"Good luck," Greg whispered, before walking off with the rest of the Slytherins.
Draco looked at his three other partners-in-crime and walked with them. The auror program was on the last day of their spring term. The aurors didn't want to keep students away from their holidays for too long. It was nice for their polyjuice plan, but also meant that they had to speed up on the plan by about a week.
Draco and his friends all exited Hogwarts with their arms joined. "Right, just get on the train and then get to the Ministry straight after?" Millie said. They all nodded. Draco watched the way his auror was following Tommy at a steady pace.
"All right, let's get started."
Their plan was supposed to be done as such:
— Take the train to the London, and then find a place to apparate to the Ministry
— Use their tickets to get into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement
— Stick to their guide and keep a low profile (Tommy's sweatshirt was bright pink, so Draco had to transfigure the colour)
— Find the Auror's office and peel away from the group
— Get into Head Auror Robard's office
— Find evidence.
What none of them had planned for was Potter. Well, okay- Draco was trying a new thing where he was not supposed to blame all their shortcomings on Potter. "What the absolute fuck is Harry Potter doing here?"
Draco stared at Millie's form, well... that had to count for something.
"Please, of course he came here," Theo muttered, opening drawers with his hands and looking through files diligently. They were too scared to try any sort of magic inside the office. Blaise had to break the wards like a cheap spy from Draco's mystery novels, but they were inside and cautious.
Everyone was moving as quickly and quietly as they possibly could. Draco had taken to searching Robard's desk. Theo was at his filing cabinets. Millie was having a go at the various knickknacks that decorated his shelf space and Blaise? He was on look-out.
"You don't think they'd come in here, do you?" Blaise whispered, wand out and in a defensive stance.
"No, I'm just surprised that no one-" Draco started to rifle through a couple journals- "was actually in this office to begin with. Not even a guard."
He decided to look at the most recent one when a bunch of parchment fell out. Draco cursed silently, bending down to pick up the letters? He twisted them in his gloves hands (Tommy had given him some white lace ones that belonged to his mother, the gesture was nice) "I think he was corresponding with someone about the Death Eater's in Azkaban," Draco said.
The rest of the group stilled, turning to look at Draco. He had the letter's clutched in his hands and was skimming over them. Blaise was still staring out of the office in case someone came. Theo walked over; snatched the papers, duplicated them, shoved them back into the journal and grabbed Draco's arm.
"We don't have time to sit and read them. We need to leave now," he said.
Millie nodded, quickly putting back a book she got off the shelf and letting herself do a once-over in the office. "Alright, did we misplace anything? Everything looks the same right?"
"Right," Draco nodded, grabbing Blaise's hand and walking out of the office. "The wards?"
Blaise gave a nervous smile, "I can try my best. But I don't know if my magical signature will be on it."
Draco cursed, he looked down at his wand. Well Tommy's wand. "Hey, remember wingardium leviosa?" he muttered.
Millie furrowed her brows, "What?"
"That could work," Theo muttered. "I'll put on a regular locking charm."
"I know the alarm one," Draco said.
Blaise nodded, "I can add the people he wants inside his office."
Millis stared at the three of them wearily. "Okay then, I'll head back to the group."
"Here," Theo gave her his bag and held it out to her. "If anything goes wrong, you take it to the group okay?"
Millie looked between the three of them and nodded, before running away. Draco, Blaise and Theo all pointed their wands at the door. "You sure you know what you're talking about Theo?"
"No. Just trying for a little Hufflepuff optimism."
"Oh Merlin, save us."
They all started to cast their charm, with their magic, and someone else's wand, hopefully the magical signature wouldn't be traced back to them. Once done, Blaise did a little wave of his wand, checking over the wards and nodding with a winning smile. "I think we can honestly get away with this."
"What are you doing?!" a familiar voice shouted.
Draco felt the grip on his wand tighten. He glared at Blaise before smiling up at Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. "Ron Weasley," he said, straightening his back. "And Harry Potter," he muttered. "We just got lost-"
"Looking for the loos," Theo drawled.
"But looks like we got to the wrong place. Oh well, guess we should go," Blaise grabbed Theo and Draco's hands, pulling them away when the flask on Draco's hip fell. They all stilled as the metal flask clattered on the ground in front of them.
"Merlin Tommy," Theo hissed. He gave Potter and Weasley a glare. "Okay, you caught us. Underage drinking, we should head-"
"Wait," Ron picked up the flask and started to open it. Draco grabbed at the flask and clipped it back into the jeans belt loop. "Oi!"
"What?! You're not an auror yet, you can't tell me off!" Draco glared at Ron, pulling a whining tone on his voice.
"But he's the Boy-Who-Lived," Blaise goaded. Draco and Theo both stared at him with looks of shock. "You know what he thinks of us Slytherins," he whispered. Draco wanted to ask what the hell Blaise was on about when Potter stuttered his way into the conversation.
"No-no I don't- I'm sorry. It's- not because you're- I didn't even-" Potter sighed tiredly, "Just go."
"But Harry."
"Thanks Potter," Draco grinned, running out of the auror's office and laughing with the rest of his friends. "That was thrilling... I'm also never doing that again."
Theo shuddered bodily, walking over the group of students and Millie. "That was more than enough Gryffindor tendencies for me."
"You guys alright?" Millie whispered, taking notes and looking interested in the lecture they were getting on about new legislations.
"Yeah, almost had a run in with Potter and Weasel," Draco muttered darkly. When Millie turned to give him a worried look, he waved her away. They continued on their guided tour whilst Potter and Weasley joined them. Draco felt Potter's eyes on the back of his head and when they were finally called to have a quick lunch break, he all but ran to the toilets.
Except he did get lost this time. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was not exactly the place his father would send him whenever they had their little ministry outings. "Now if I were just in the Barristers office, I would easily know where everything was-"
"Including the Auror's office Malfoy."
Draco closed his eyes, gave out a silent curse to Merlin and spun around to face Potter. "What gave it away?"
Potter looked surprised at Draco's easy confession. "The gloves," he said after a while. "I also know your mannerisms."
"Ooh, don't say that-" Draco grinned. "It'll make me blush. Gregory did tell me you were staring at me an awful lot," he snickered at the way Potter bowed his head, blushing slightly.
"What were you doing, Malfoy?"
"Nothing."
"You think I believe you?"
"No seriously," Draco lied. "We couldn't get past the wards," he said.
Potter walked closer to Draco, eyes pinning him to the wall. Draco gulped slightly, looking up at Potter. "You always feel your gloves when you lie."
Draco gasped, feeling his fingers still and then watched as Potter walked closer to him. "I don't suppose... that you wouldn't mind.. Not sharing this with-" Draco placed his hand on Potter's chest. Flat but steady. He stopped him at an arm's length away.
"Malfoy-"
"No Potter. If I tell you that I don't even know what I found. Will you let me go? I promise you, no Death Eater stuff-" Potter pulled back like he got slapped. "-I'm not doing anything wrong." Draco slipped back away from the corridor. "I promise you that."
He turned and ran back to his friends. Millie was the first to notice him. She pushed away her lunch and stood up, holding Draco's arms. "What happened?"
"Let's leave."
Theo and Blaise were quick to gather their stuff and then they all went to leave. Taking the floo to Malfoy Manor. |
Auston's phone is ringing. That's what drags him out of a blissful sleep and a cute af dream of Mitch and him adopting a puppy. So it's not his fault he is grumpy when he answers.
“What the fuck?”
“That's not a nice way to answer the phone Matts.”
“Fuck off Mitch.”
Auston drags his hand over his face scrunching his eyes closed tightly. His alarm hasn't gone off yet which means he doesn't have to be up. So sue him for wishing he could still be asleep.
“I have news.”
“News that couldn't have waited until you pick me up for practice?”
Mitch pauses. Auston can't help a bit of a chuckle at that. It's pretty clear Mitch hadn't thought of that. He has a tendency to get carried away in his excitement and forget important things like the time and Auston's sleep needs.
“I didn't realise...”
“I'm awake now Mitchy, what did you want?”
“Well, I had a call from Davo and he wants to meet you.”
The happy, giggly tone Mitch has even at this time of the morning shouldn't still surprise Auston. But, fuck, the guy is like sunshine. Just on.
“I've met Connor McDavid before, Mitch. I played with him.”
“Urgh, the less said about Team North America the better.”
“So...”
“Well, the point is Davo doesn't know it's you he wants to meet. But he figured out that I'm seeing someone and...”
“You told him?”
“No Auston”
His tone is patient and placating not angry and that just makes Auston feel shitty. He is working on not always assuming the worst and, like, trusting Mitch properly. Add that to the long list of stuff that Auston just isn't good at. Maybe he traded it in for hockey skills.
“He figured out that I'm seeing someone. He doesn't even know that it's a dynamic thing and he doesn't have to.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
“So does he want to go out for dinner or something?”
“Nah, man. Davo and you out in Toronto would be a nightmare. He was going to come over mine and asked if I could invite my person to hang.”
“Wait so Connor McDavid wants to vet me?”
Mitch giggles far too brightly for the time and Auston groans. Why.
“He's very protective you know. Stromer's going to be worse.”
“I have to meet Strome in Arizona too?”
“Hey, I have to meet your parents. Dylan Strome might be a complete asshole but he is not as scary as meeting someone's parents.”
Auston is quiet for a moment. In all the stress of thinking about telling his parents about himself he'd never really considered how scary it would for Mitch to meet his parents like that. He keeps forgetting that Mitch isn't super experienced at this kind of thing either. He always just seems to know what to do.
“Mitchy, can we talk about this more later? When you pick me up?”
“Okay. See you soon.”
Auston is woken for a second time by the sound of his front door slamming shut. He groans. That means Mitch is here and he absolutely is going to have to get up. Glancing at his alarm he sees that he has somehow managed to sleep through it and the fear of that realisation propels him up and out of bed.
He rushes to get dressed throwing whatever semi-presentable clothing he can find. Mitch comes to investigate why he hasn't emerged from his bedroom for breakfast yet leaning himself against the doorframe.
“So am I coming out out to Connor McDavid tonight or just a little bit out?”
Auston just kind of flings it out there whilst looking for his socks. It takes a few seconds of silence for Auston to realise something is wrong. He pauses his search for a moment to look up at Mitch in the doorway.
“You okay?”
Mitch nods dumbly.
“What did I say?”“You're okay with that?”
Auston shrugs.
“It's just... It's Connor McDavid. He's your friend and you trust him. I want to meet him as your boyfriend if nothing else. I'm proud of that.”
“He might not understand the dom/sub thing that well.”
“He's neutral?”“Yeah. He keeps it pretty private so not too many people know.”
“But he knew about you...”
“We were close, I confided in him and really it was the obvious solution when you think about it. Exactly the kind of thing only a neutral would see though. We can sometimes get so caught up in dynamics.”
“Davo knows you're a dom.”
“Yeah.”
“So if he knows we're dating...”
“He'll know everything.”
“Yeah.”
Auston sits down on the edge of the bed. Mitch doesn't move. He's looking down so Auston can't see his face. But he's got to be disappointed or maybe even angry that Auston is still unsure about all this. It's not a lie, he is proud to be Mitch's boyfriend, to be his sub. But telling people is a big step. He desperately wants to make Mitch happy but he can't do this just for Mitch. He has to be okay with it too. He can't end up resenting Mitch if things go badly and he wasn't ready.
It was okay with Marty and Syd. But there are dunamics. Connor isn't. The hockey world might think he's the second coming of something but he's still just a 19 year old kid who doesn't really understand dunamics and Auston has to trust this guy with his most vulnerable secret. That's asking a lot. He looks back at Mitch again. This isn't something he can ask Mitch to do. This isn't something he can defer to his dom for. He has to make this choice.
“Do you trust him Mitch?”
Mitch looks up and Auston can see the nerves in his eyes. He's biting the corner of his lip and shoving his hands into the pouch of his hoodie.
“Yeah, I trust him completely.”
Auston nods.
“You think he'll be okay?”
“He doesn't always understand dunamic stuff. He'll probably be surprised and he might ask a lot of questions. Some might be a little impolite...”
“He won't be a complete dick aboout it.”
“Yeah.”
“And he wouldn't say anything to anyone?”
“What? No!”
Mitch moves over and sits next to Ausotn on the bed. He takes on of Auston's hands between both of his own. It's nice. It's reassuring. It's Mitch.
“I trust you.”
Mitch doesn't say anything just squeezes his hand tighter and leans his shoulder into Auston's/
“So...”
“So let's do it.”
Mitch beams. The full one. He turns it directly on Auston and his chest tightens. He wants to kiss him so much. But instead he just smiles back feeling more than a little goofy.
Practice was a bit of a non-event after the enormity of the morning. And after it was more of the same routine. By now their pre-game routine was like clockwork, Auston didn't even have to think about it. Mitch couoked them a pre-game meal and then they settled for a pre-game nap.
This bit was the same as it has always been. Auston's flat on his back with mitchs pread out n top of him his head tucked right up under Auston's chin.
Waking up with Mitch has to be one of Auston's favourite things/ He's warm and clinging to Auston still making soft snuffling sounds, small puffs of breath tickling Auston's neck.
Auston feels good, he feels settled. And he knows going into the game that it's going to be a good one. And he's not wrong. He even ends up getting a goal on the power play with Mitch providing the assist.
So Auston's very happy through getting stripped and showered. He jokes around with Willy and Zach. It doesn't even occur to him to feel nervous while he is still high on the victory. He is mostly dressed when he manages to catch Mitch's eyes across the dressing room. There's nothing but pride in his eyes and he smiles back at Auston. There's a hint of heat in the way he rakes his eyes over Auston's body and he hates that he won't do anything about it. Yet.
Auston's still in a remarkably good mood as Mitch drives them home singing along to the dumb playlist he'd created especially for driving home after a win. Connor is already outside waiting when they pull into Mitch's condo parking facility. He looks more than a little confused when Auston gets out of the car. Mitch just smiles and opens the door leading both Connor and Auston upstairs and into his condo.
Auston makes himself at home sitting in one of the barstools at the breakfast bar. Mitch moves their bags into the utility room before busying himself in the kitchen preparing their usual post-game snack. Auston just watches him move; smooth and nimble as always, confidently owning the space. Auston sees it now; the dominance of the situation. How Mitch is totally in control of himself and Auston, caring for him, providing for him. And it more than works for Auston. He loves how he doesn't have to think about these things, he can just let go of all the rpessure hockey brings because he knows Mitch is looking after him. He's playing better than he ever has and off-ice he's happier than he ever has been. He never thought he'd get to have this. He had always assumed he would have to hide at least until retirement. Maybe forever. Now he has everything. More than he ever thought possible.
“What's going on here Mitchy?”
Auston's reverie is interrupted by Connor's cold tone and steely glare. Mitch pauses where he's arranging their post-game snack in front of Auston. He looks tentativelyback at Auston who nods happily.
“So you know I'm seeing someone...”
“Yeah...”
“It's Auston. He, I... I mean, we are... dating.”
Connor doesn't look shocked at all. He doesn't look happy either, in fact he looks decidedly grim, annoyed even. Which, Auston was not expecting that. Connor didn't even know any of the sub stuff yet. He wasn't supposed to freak out about this. Auston tries to catch Mitch's eye desperately but he is seemingly trying to bore a hole in Connor McDavid's head by sheer force of will alone.
“What is this Mitch?”
Connor spreads his hands gesturing towards Mitch, Auston and the table between them.
“Do you have a problem Davo?”
Mitch is fronting up to Connor now, puffing up and folding his arms across his chest.
“Yeah of course I've got a fucking problem Mitch. You don't have to do this. No one gets to force you to sub – not even Auston Matthews. I watched you go through all that shit in London and I won't let anyone do it to you again.”
“It's not like that Connor, it's...”
“No Auston, you don't get to speak for him. This is bullshit. I expected better from you. This is so messed up.”
Auston snorts, rolling his eyes. Mitch doesn't look amused though.
“You can't speak to him like that Connor. You should apologise.”
Connor takes a step back shocked at the cool agression laced through Mitch's words. Auston can't help but smile at the power move from Mitch. Connor just looks helplessly back at Mitch. Auston chuckles, he's floundering, Connor had gone from righteous anger to completely lost.
“Mitchy isn't subbing for me.”
Connor and Mitch both look to Auston, Connor in confusion, Mitch in something approaching awe.
“Sure looks like service right here.”
Of course Connor, the neutral, wouldn't get the subtlety of this. They probably should have thought this through in more detail but fuck Connor for assuming Auston would do that to Mitch.
“No. This is Mitch caring for me. As my dom.”
Auston picks up a parsnip chip and throws it in his mouth smirking to Mitch while Connor tries to process what he's just heard.
“He's your dom.”
“Yes.”
“So that means you're...”
Auston sighs.
“I'm a sub, Davo. Mitch and me, we're courting. It's the real thing.”
Mitch smiles proudly and hands Auston the bottle of gatorade. Connor watches the movement carefully.
“Mitch?”
“It's true, Davo.”
“Fuck, sorry, I just never thought...”
Connor doesn't finish that thought balking at the snarl Mitch turns on him or at Auston's glare.
“Sorry. Again.”
“God, Davo, you're such a neutral stereotype. No subtlety.”
Connor nods seriously wringing his hands and shuffling from one foot to the other.
“No hard feelings. I made the same mistake at first.”
“I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions.”
“It's okay Connor. I know about what happened in London, so I get why you'd go there.”
Connor nodded.
“This is good though. I'm happy for you.”
Connor's smiling now and so is Mitch.
“So like, the sub thing isn't exactly common knowledge. Pretty exclusive club actually so if you fcan keep that to yourself that would be great.”
“Of course, I would never!”
“Not even Stromer.”
“Sure Mitch, I promise, not even Stromer.”
Connor pauses clearly with something more to say.
“Are you going to tell him when you're down in Arizona next week?”
Mitch looks at Auston who just shrugs.
“Maybe.” Mitch replies carefully “We're seeing Auston's parents so it depends if we have time.”
“You're already at presentation?”
“You know the courtship steps?”“Of course, I still took dynaamic education seriously.”
Auston roll his eyes. Connor is so earnest. Auston had assumed it was an act for the media when they met at the World Cup but it seems that Connor McDavid really is that serious. So serious he could probably give Jonathan Toews a run for his money.
“It's pretty serious then?”
Mitch nods dumbly grinning widely.
“Yep. He's perfect.”
Mitch sticks his tounge out at the jibe and Auston scrunches his face in imitatino of the MitchTM grin. Connor barks out a laugh shaking his head.
“Fortnite?”
“Let's do it.”
“You going down, Mitch.”
“He's really not.”
“Yet.”
Connor's look of horror is almost as entertaining as Mitch's cackle. But Auston ends up with a lapful of Mitch Marner so he calls it a win.
“So I have a few questions...”
|
“What's that look for?” Sebastian asked her nervously with a half smile.
“You've had sex before, right?” Claire inquired.
Slowly Seb looked up from his magazine and stared at her. “I'm no Hugh Hefner but I've had sex a few times, why?”
“Tom sort of indicated that Chris was somewhat inexperienced in sex.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” he defended, “We’re very mate driven creatures. Our sex drives are dulled unless we’re around 'the one’ or our Luna. Occasionally if the situation is right we'd have sex but that's rare and normally because the other person wants it.”
They were alone, finally. Even pine had stepped out to a meeting leaving Claire alone with her beloved Sebastian. The wolf seemed completely oblivious to her intentions until Claire straddled his lap, settling down flatly until her breasts were level with his mouth.
“Oh hello,” he cooed, his eyes brightening as he gazed up at her flushed face.
“We finally have the house to ourselves,” Claire purred, capturing his mouth with hers.
Sebastian wasted no time in grabbing hold of her hips, squeezing tightly before forging a path under her shirt and up her back. Like a smooth operator, Seb unhooked her bra in the first try and pushed the two parts away.
“Yes we do,” he replied in between kisses, “I think it's a perfect time,” Sebastian moaned, pulling her shirt and bra off in one smooth move, “To finish what we started on the boat!”
Claire found herself lying flat on the couch, her arms falling above her head as Sebastian knelt between her legs, hands flat against the cushion of Tom’s couch. Teeth grazed along her jaw and down to her neck - over the mark Tom had given her and to the top of her breasts with surprising dominance. Claire stretched out under him making her breasts more accessible and arched her back a little. Seb growled seductively and captured a pert nipple between his lips, applying pressure and tugging before releasing it and lapping with his tongue.
He adjusted himself and grasped her breast holding it in place and repeated his careful line of attack on the neglected one. Claire moaned, biting her lower lip and tilted her head to the side. Lips made a trail down to her chest to her stomach where Seb licked around her belly button.
“You have the cutest little stomach,” he purred, gentle kisses peppering their way across the soft flesh.
“Little?” Claire panted sarcastically, her fingers running through his hair.
In response, he bit her tummy hard enough for her to feel it but gentle enough not to leave a mark. "Hush!" Sebastian soured, inching back and hooking his fingertips in the waistband of her pants, dragging them down off her hips. Claire raised her bum up enough for Sebastian to remove them completely where he tossed them over his shoulder comically.
The look on her face gave Seb cause for pause, sitting up and removing his shirt and undoing his jeans. There was a distinct strain in the front of his jeans that urged Claire to reach up and grab him, squeezing the member and getting a feel for him. Seb groaned and pushed his hips out for her prompting Claire to sit up a little so she could massage him a bit better.
"Tom has you on that Depo-shot, right?" Seb asked, further opening the front of his jeans.
"Yeah," Claire confirmed, "No condom needed,"
"Thank god," Seb huffed seriously, awkwardly getting off the couch and shimmying out of his jeans and briefs leaving the man completely nude. "I didn't want to use one of those. I want to mark my scent internally," he confessed,
As clique as it was, Claire felt faint at seeing him completely nude. She had seen him in this state before but not aroused. Licking her lips Claire's eyes settled on his strained flesh pointing right at her.
"Come here," Seb cooed, inching his finger.
Claire sat on the edge of the couch and took hold of his cock, fingers circling his base.
"Open," Sebastian suggested,
She did,
"Good girl," he cooed, pressing forward and placing his shaft on her tongue.
Claire closed her lips around him and bobbed her head forward accepting as much of him in her mouth as possible. One had grasped her hair and he softly thrust his hips forward to meet her rhythm while the other cupped her breast, pinching her nipple and tugging.
"Yes," Sebastian hissed, "Just like that, nice and slow!"
She moaned around his shaft, her tongue coming to swirl around the flushed head before pulling back completely and nibbling on the bottom of his shaft from head to base and back.
Lazily licking him like a popsicle made it possible for her to observe his member more carefully and take in the distinct details that separate him from Tom and Chris.
Sebastian was average in size but a bit thicker and wide. Unlike her other lovers, his skin actually flushed and his head darkened. It was arousing to Claire because she could physically see what she was doing to him beyond the erection.
Carefully she cupped his smooth sac hanging a little lower than Tom's and a bit larger. A small little freckle sat on the skin tarnishing its flawlessness.
"That's nice?" Sebastian asked, unsure of himself.
"Perfect," she cooed,
"It's not too small?" he asked, allowing his confidence to falter a bit.
"He's perfect for your body and perfect for my kitty!" Claire cooed, nipping the soft skin that connected his shaft to his sac.
"Good," he smiled,
The wetness between her legs was becoming too uncomfortable and it forced Claire to pull away and sit back, opening her thighs. As soon as she did Seb closed his eyes and groaned - her arousal hitting him hard.
"Here, lay back on the couch," Seb instructed, "I've been dying to taste you,"
As daintily as possible Claire fell back into her previous position, relaxing her legs and parting her thighs for him. Seb tucked his member down and laid out flat on the couch between her legs. Teeth grazed over the smooth skin as he inched his mouth closer to her treasure.
"You smell amazing," he purred, placing the tip of his tongue at her entrance and moved it upwards tasting her arousal. "So wet, I can see the glisten,"
"I'm horny," she admitted with a blush,
"I can see that," Seb agreed seductively, parting her folds a little and licking her quim a little deeper. "Your flushed and a little swollen,"
Sebastian's fingers dug into her thighs as he eagerly sucked and tugged on her pussy lips and clit. His tongue circled her entrance before darting inside, lapping and licking her soft tissues.
Claire felt her stomach muscles flex as her breathing increased, she reached up and grabbed hold of the backrest and braced herself as he pleasured her. Little lightning bolts of pleasure shot up her spine and right to her nipples as a warmth flushed over her quim.
Fingers slipped easily inside her, spreading and pushing down as his tongue worked on her clit. Seb was certainly more attentive than anyone else when it came to her oral needs.
A soft kiss to the top of her mound was given before he pulled back and continued to move his fingers in and out of her body. Claire whimpered and pushed back, rotating her hips and pressing down around the digits. Sebastian pulled his fingers out and spread her arousal around her flushed pussy lips, parting her and getting a better view of what he was doing.
Fingers scissored her open and he moaned deeply, hint of feral as Seb got a look at the inside of her treasure. "You have such a beautiful pussy," he praised,
"Fuck me," Claire complained, a half smile on her face as she grabbing her own breasts and eagerly massaging them for him.
"Fuck you?" he repeated with a grin, falling between her legs and boxing her in.
Claire could feel his manhood brushing up against her aching core as he playfully moved back and forth between her legs. Once Claire placed her legs around his trim waist and grabbed hold of his shoulders Sebastian dipped his hips down and slid inside her body easily.
They both gasped loudly as warm tissue wrapped themselves around his shaft snuggly. Seb shuddered into her mouth and pulled back a little, pushing himself hilt deep, rotating his hips slow and deep. Seb buried himself inside her body and adjusted her hips so she was raised a bit up off the cushion.
Braced against him Seb began to pump into her body, rutting like she were a bitch in heat. Whimpering and moaning against his lips Claire closed her eyes and relaxed her upper body against the couch. Blunt fingernails grabbed and scraped down his back as she flexed her pussy muscles and moved against him subtly.
"You feel so good!" Sebastian groaned into the base of her neck, letting her bum fall back down so he could adjust himself better.
With her relaxed, he was able to fuck her a little harder. The sound of their sex broke the silence in the room and a rather vulgar wet slapping noise filled their ears. Sebastian's heavy sac smacked against her bum as he pumped into her.
"Cum on," he panted, "Cum for me!"
Claire took a deep breath and grabbed hold of his bum, squeezing the hard muscle and pushing him forward. She adjusted her legs higher around his waist to angle herself deeper. Seb's head hit her sweet spot and Claire found herself crying out loudly prompting her lover to hit that mark again.
"I want you to cum around my cock so fucking bad!" Seb huffed into her mouth, "I wanna feel you clutch and milk me!"
"So close!" she panted, "Harder!"
Sebastian smashed into her hard and faster than before. Claire felt herself moving against the couch, her body covered in a thin sheet of sweat. Seb reached back and grabbed hold of her ankle, raising her leg and resting it on his shoulder as he knelt upwards and curved his spine and twisting himself a little to get at a new angle.
"Fuck!" Claire stuttered loudly, her eyes closing tightly as the pleasure became too much.
Seductively she snaked her hand down her body and parted her folds giving Seb a better view of his manhood disappearing inside her willing body. His breathing was heavy as fingers stroked over her clit and what little bit of flesh was still visible. Sebastian slowed for a bit and really admired how he looked inside her.
"I look so good inside you!" he gloated, pulling out completely and rubbing his underside against her quim and between her fingers.
The sex organ was hot and wet from her arousal. Smooth silk draped over solid marble. Unable to help herself Claire grabbed him and began to stroke his cock with her hand, cooing and moaning when Seb throbbed.
Claire used her tummy muscles to pull herself up, lips settling on Sebastian's collarbone, licking and sucking the sweaty skin. His fingers graced under her chin, drawing Claire's head up so she could look at him. Seb lowered his head and captured her lips, holding her cheek his kiss was passionate and laced with dominance.
"Roll over," Seb smirked, "I wanna see that plump little ass!"
Seductively she turned herself over and presented. With her front half pressed against the cushion, Claire's spine was curved downwards and her bum was up in the air waiting for Sebastian to mount her. His hands came to rest on the inside of her thighs, spreading her legs a little wider for him.
"Either join us or get out," Sebastian stated seriously, parting her quim and slipping two fingers inside her body. "But don't just stand there, Mike."
Claire snapped her head up to see a very stunned and uncertain Michael by the kitchen. His hand was hovering over his keys which were on the counter. Blue eyes were fixated on the scene before them. Who knew how much he had witnessed. A deep blush crept up her neck and her cheeks prompting Claire to lower her head and give a nervous smirk.
Regardless of Michael watching them Sebastian lined himself with her opening and entered her body once more. He paused long enough for her to adjust before grabbing hold of her hips possessively and smacking into her, hard.
She could tell that Sebastian was looking right at Michael as he took ownership of her body as a show of dominance. Claire felt her breath hitch in her throat and a tightness in her stomach. The sound of him smashing into her and the clenching of her arousal was overwhelming as well as the smell.
A pair of dress pants clad legs came to stand next to her head as Michael gazed down at them. Slowly she looked up to meet the Irishman's gaze. His eyes were clouded with lust and his bottom lip pressed down by teeth.
"Yes?" he asked curiously, arousal dripping from his voice.
Claire hadn't been intimate with Michael yet and this wasn't exactly how she wanted to execute it either. But Sebastian had made him an offer and he was asking politely for permission to accept.
"Yes," Claire moaned, raising up onto her elbows.
Mike made short work of his clothing and came to kneel in front of her on the couch, his hand taking hold of the backing for support. His half-hard manhood rested right in front of her face. The member throbbing and thickening quickly. Michael flushed a little before bobbing. Definitely larger than Seb she opened her mouth and tried to awkwardly accept him between her lips.
He chuckled and held onto himself, guiding his head between her lips and over her tongue. Behind her Sebastian slowed, rotating his hips deeply and causing her to moan and purr around Michael's shaft.
"Is this your first time?" Michael asked through baited breath, gently moving his own hips back and forth for Claire.
"With her? Yeah." Seb panted,
"Same," Michael told him. "Good girl, use your teeth!"
Claire could fit a little less of him in her mouth, unlike Sebastian. Doing her best in the position she was in Claire bobbed her head up and down with tight lips. She made sure that her teeth grazed over his flesh lightly without nicking him.
"I'm gonna cum!" Seb announced.
"Me too!" Claire replied, briefly taking Michael out of her mouth.
The other wolf used his position and easily placed his arm under Claire's body - hand finding her pussy. Fingers moved over her swollen clit before rubbing her. Feeling the unexpected sensation Claire gasped loudly, her eyes snapping open widely.
"Fuck, yes!" she called out, "Oh right there! I'm gonna cum!"
Eagerly Claire placed Mike back in her mouth and crudely sucked on him. The obnoxious porn-like noises that were made appeared to turn both men on even more. Michael sped up his fingers while Sebastian slammed into her hard and fast from behind forcing Claire forward and further onto Michael's cock.
"Cum on," Michael cooed, "Cum nice and hard on Seb's cock! Once he's cum I'm gonna fuck that pussy nice and hard!"
"I'm not pulling out," Sebastian warned the man.
"I don't care," Michael smirked, completely indifferent about Sebastian's deposit of seed. "I'm bisexual, a little man cum isn't going to bother me any!"
Claire rose an eyebrow up at his confession. Somehow that really didn't surprise her any.
She could feel her pussy flush with heat as her orgasm began to build. That tightness in her stomach was twisting dangerously. Behind her Seb's movements were uneven and desperate, his fingers held onto her in a bruising hold.
Michael cocked his head to the side and pinched her swollen clit sending her over the edge. Claire flung her head back crying out as her orgasm hit her like a tornado. Her whole body shook and her she felt a small gush leave her quim and coat Sebastian's cock. Her lover paused, falling forward and dangerously close to Michael's torso. He held firmly against her, panting and gasping loudly in her ear as his own orgasm took hold.
Claire could feel his seed flood her insides and splash against her clutching cervix. Michael's hand remained on her quim, massaging her from underneath as Sebastian continued to release his essence.
"Oh my god," Claire murmured, her knees shaking and the threat of falling forward very possible.
"Exactly," Sebastian groaned,
He waited for a moment before slowly disentangling himself, switching places with Michael.
Exhausted Sebastian sat down in front of her, leaning back on the cushions. His chest was heavy and his body somewhat limp. Between Seb's legs, his manhood was slowly deflating still coated in their rapture. A small amount of his cum leaked out of the slit and onto his thigh where the sticky sex organ rested.
Michael wasted no time in entering her still throbbing quim. No foreplay, no pleasantries but rather a nice big cock pounding into her. The sensations of a new cock inside her body woke Claire up and she went wide-eyed. Mike's head stopped just short of smashing into her cervix and stretched her wider.
Sebastian's deposit helped glide Michael smoothly inside her while making that loud quenching noise once more. She could tell that Sebastian and Michael were watching each other by Sebastian's actions. Seb was massaging his semi-hard cock and
looking past her to Michael.
"You keep teasing me like that little beta and you're gonna run into a rather precarious situation." Michael purred,
"Oh really?" Sebastian purred, testing the omega behind her.
Claire was slowly becoming a complete puddle of mush. Her lower half was being propped by Michael, his arm under her hips as he pushed and pulled inside her body at a steady rate. Every thrust was like a mini orgasm. Her womanhood overly sensitive but happy to accept the pleasure.
"Oh my God!" Claire moaned into the couch cushion. "Please!"
"Please what?" Michael purred, falling forward over her body and boxing her in under him. Teeth bit into the side of her neck causing her to cry out in pleasure, rolling her hips under him.
"So close!" she purred, "Please,"
"I love it when you beg my little Luna," Michael moaned, rearing up and taking her with him. Sitting on his lap she sunk down on his entire length with a gasp. Strong arms encased her from behind as he adjusted himself and her legs. "Move for me," he cooed, nipping her shoulder. "Show Sebastian how beautifully you spread on my cock."
Sebastian became closer to them and stretched his legs out. His hand remained on his manhood, licking his lips and anticipating the show.
Lazily Claire bounced up and down on his lap, her head falling on Michael's shoulder. This whole experience was something she had never done before. It was exciting and Claire found that she rather did like it.
"Good girl," Sebastian praised, "Explore your sexuality, enjoy it."
"Yes," Michael urged, helping her move on his lap, her breasts bouncing in time which seemed to be hypnotizing Sebastian. "Seb, love, come and touch her."
"Please?" Claire asked, her teeth chattering together as she begged for Sebastian to touch her.
Sebastian stopped slouching against the backrest of Tom's couch to sit upright in front of her. Hands grabbed her breasts, massaging and tweaking her nipples as Michael pounded up into her. Feeling bold her beta traced a line down her body to her and Michael's connection, fingertip fluttering over her swollen clit and what little shaft Michael had shown. Michael groaned loudly and shuttered a bit with the touch of their curious beta.
"I thought your straight," Michael gasped, ejaculating inside her a little.
"I don't know anymore," Sebastian confessed with a somewhat dazed look. "I'm curious,"
"I'm gonna cum," Claire whimpered pathetically, her whole body going limp against Michael's strong body.
Her oversensitive body exploded into a ball of fireworks. Claire thought that her brain malfunctioned as every single nerve went off at the same time. Her orgasm was so powerful that Claire wasn't even sure if she did actually cum until Michael gently placed her down on the couch next to Sebastian.
"Are you alright?" He smiled, brushing hair out of her face.
Michael was still partially on top of her and twisted a little so that he could acknowledge her face to face. Somewhere in between Claire rocketing into outer space and coming back to earth on an all-new level of zen, Michael himself had come. She could feel him leaking outside of her body and down her thighs as her pussy throbbed and clutched around him.
"Yeah," Claire whimpered, somewhat out of it and dazed.
"No!" Tom spoke animatedly, "Not on the couch! Don't do this again on my couch!" he came to stand between all three of them and shook his head. "You have to dry-clean that couch cover!"
Claire couldn't help but be blown away by the fact that he just walked in on the end of a threesome and the only thing that bothered him was where it happened.
"Yeah, of course, mate." Michael agreed without argument, lifting himself off her a bit.
"Get her up and into my bedroom. Pine will be back soon and I don't particularly want him seeing her in this state." Tom instructed, throwing his keys down onto the coffee table.
"Yes," Seb replied submissively,
"And clean her up," Tom added, "You know how important aftercare is with our Luna. Once she's cleaned tuck her into bed and cuddle her, guard her. If you're going to make love to her you have to follow proper procedure afterward. Making love to Claire is a privilege it's not a right." |
“Excuse me, they’re trying to do what ??”
Rhodey gave the irate trio in front of him a grim smile. “Yeah, I had the same reaction. The rep handed me all of the paperwork involving Natasha, Clint, Sam, and Scott and mentioned off-handedly about releasing Maximoff and Rogers. When I asked, he told me a few Committee members are still hoping Rogers will eventually take control of the New Avengers.”
An infuriated snarl escaped Stephen as he pulled Tony into his arms in a protective movement. “Not a chance in the Dark Dimension! After everything those two did, I’d sooner see them in the Raft for the rest of their miserable lives!”
Crimson eyes glowed with fury as the resident Dragonborn began pacing agitatedly. “This is getting absurd! They’ve done little more than verbally reprimand them both for their past transgressions and violations of their parols. Do they think such will be sufficient for a crime of this magnitude?? For the attack on our own, for the endangerment of a child, for the death of an innocent?!”
Tony looked at his soulmate and sister in all but blood and gave them a firm nod. “I’m done with them doing jack shit beyond giving them a slap on the wrist every time they pull shit like this. This time, they’ll take the two of them to task properly , or we take it somewhere they really don’t want it to reach.” He looked up at the ceiling, and a moment later his eyes flared blue. “FRIDAY, dear, please set up a meeting with the Accords Committee for me for… let’s say two days from now at 2:00. Make sure their schedules are free and clear for us.”
“ Gladly, bossman .”
The dark-skinned man nodded in approval at his best friend’s order. “This is the last thing we need to be dealing with right now-- it’s only been about 48 hours since Rem was brought back here, barely clinging to life. If his parents heard what the Committee is trying to do… I dunno about you, but there’s no way in Hell I’m getting between the Accords Committee and the two most dangerous assassins on the planet.”
Stephen couldn’t help but snort at the completely serious way Rhodey had made the declaration. “That’s just common sense, Rhodey-- though it seems to be something the Accords Committee is lacking in currently. Maybe you should share some with them.” Chuckles escaped the group as a whole, and once things had quieted down again he asked, “How are Scott and Sam settling in at the Tower?”
“They’re doing well-- should’ve seen Scott’s reaction to Vision, though. It’s a good thing V’s got patience, because I’m pretty sure Scott took a breath maybe once the entire time he was firing off questions at him.” Rhodey sighed fondly and shook his head. “That man reminds me so much of a labrador, all happy and optimistic and full of so much freaking energy . Are we sure he isn’t consuming Red Bull regularly?”
All at once, the three New Avengers leaders shuddered. “Red Bull, 5-Hour Energy, Mountain Dew Kickstart, and any/all other related highly caffeinated beverages have been permanently banned from the Compound.” Minowa explained in a solemn tone of voice.
Seeing the confused and wary expression on Rhodey’s face, Tony quickly explained. “Loki’s kids had never had any of those things before, and Harley and Peter thought it was a grand idea to take them as shots. By their fifth ones, they’d turned the entire outdoor training yard into some kind of obstacle course from the depths of Hell and were seeing how fast they could make it through while simultaneously attacking and sabotaging each other. It got even worse when Fenrir got ahold of some-- suddenly, they then had a giant wolf chasing them through it at the same time.”
Minowa nodded at his words before adding in, “It also doesn’t help that they were screaming the most random phrases while doing so. At one point, Peter got his hands on some kind of small explosive and proceeded to shout ‘this bitch empty!!’ before throwing it at Sleipnir screaming ‘yeet!!’. Rest assured, said small explosive was most certainly not empty.”
“And at one point, Harley declared he would die for Jor… to which Jor responded by pushing Harley off the course shouting ‘THEN PERISH’.” The Sorcerer Supreme sighed and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Cognac brown eyes flickered with both exasperation and amusement as he added in, “Towards the end, Peter and Harley were screaming at each other about chicken strips, and Slei said ‘fuck your chicken strips!’... when Peter then proceeded to-- and I am not exaggerating here-- pick Slei up and toss him across the course shouting ‘begone thot!’ at the top of his lungs, we decided it was time to both put an end to the insanity and ban any and all energy drinks from the Compound for the rest of forever.”
Utter silence filled the room for several seconds as Rhodey stared at them all in incredulous shock. Finally, a smirk slowly slid across his face. “Pics or it didn’t happen.”
“ Rhodey, I swear to God-- !!”
---
The feeling of the bed shifting underneath him was the first thing Wade registered as he very slowly came back to the waking world, though the feeling of a warm body curling up on top of him caused him to doze back off for a while. The position and feeling were familiar, even comforting to the half-asleep mercenary. It was only when the sunlight began to shine through the window next to his bed that he fully came to, mind still swimming with lethargic confusion as he opened his eyes to the sight of the ceiling of the Compound’s medical wing. It took only a handful of seconds for him to recall the last thing he remembered, but before he could fly into a panic the warm body shifted against him again with a sleepy mumble. Wade looked down to find a mess of fiery hair against his chest that could only belong to one person, and he couldn’t help the choked noise that escaped him as he immediately moved to gather the teen close to him. Even though he’d been attacked, Rem was okay! Tears welled up in his eyes from the level of sheer relief he felt upon seeing the redhead alive and well and unharmed. A few rolled down his face as he tried to suppress his sobs, relishing the gentle rise and fall of Rem’s chest against his own.
The sound of a throat being cleared snapped his attention to the side where Natasha and James stood with identical arched eyebrows on their faces. Wade swallowed to try and force down the lump in his throat as he softly explained, “He used to seek me out to cuddle whenever he had nightmares… He must have come in while I was sleeping. Hell knows he couldn’t do it with anyone else before he came here…” He took a moment to squeeze the mutant a little tighter. “I’m glad he’s okay… I’m pretty damn hard to kill, but Rem…” Something softened in both assassins’ gaze and they nodded as they quietly entered the room. James reached to gather Rem into his arms, and after one more squeeze Wade relinquished the teen. As the redhead was pulled away, hazel eyes finally fell on the completely unblemished skin on his arms. “What the hell…?” He whispered as he ran his fingertips over the skin.
Natasha couldn’t help the smile that quirked at her lips as Wade physically checked himself over, a small laugh escaping her when he ran his fingers through his brown hair and tugged, earning a yelp from himself. “That tends to happen when you pull your own hair, Wade.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been a while since I’ve HAD any.” He mumbled almost absentmindedly as he studied his hands and fingernails with an expression of awe. The sound of the door to his room closing again prompted him to look up, and the merc couldn’t help but swallow hard at the hard look he was getting from the Winter Soldier, who was now standing at the foot of his bed with his arms crossed over his chest.
Icy blue eyes bore into hazel as the assassin remained silent for a few seconds. Finally, he asked in a cool voice, “What exactly is your relationship with Rem? I’ve heard one or two things from the others, but I want to hear it from you directly.”
“I-- what ??” Wade choked for a moment, eyes widening in shock at the question. “Okay, hold on, I know why you’re asking. It’s true, back when Rem was an adult, he and I did have an intimate relationship. When he got de-aged to a teen, though, I stopped that immediately. I would never have any sort of sexual relationship with any teen, ever .” Both Natasha and James studied him for a few seconds before they both nodded and relaxed. Wade couldn’t help but give them a small smirk before admitting, “You know, I seem to remember having a conversation with Tony, Stephen, Dorian, Zevrael, and a more than irate Bridget over this exact same thing. Like I told them, the first time I had sex with him, he was 30. Just like them, I’m glad that Rem has people who are willing to defend him from those kinds of things.”
Nat gave him a sardonic smirk at that. “Considering the stuff he’s been through in the past few days, we can’t really be blamed for being over-protective.”
“What happened??” Wade looked up at the woman with wide eyes and a flummoxed expression. “I don’t even know how long I’ve been under…”
The assassin’s face fell immediately, and James’ took on a dark, grim expression. “Rogers and Maximoff happened.” He said as he moved to lean against the wall close to Wade’s bed. “Not sure how much you remember…”
Blinking in confusion at the suddenly serious tone, the merc slowly replied, “I… remember the car crashing, asking Rem if he was okay… I got out and around to check on him and help him get out of the car, but… he told me to watch out before I got hit by something, then… nothing.”
Natasha nodded at his words and sat forward in her seat to gently squeeze Wade’s hand for a moment. “What you were hit with was the full extent of Wanda’s powers. She knocked you unconscious and trapped you in a loop of your own worst memories. She… also managed to knock out your healing factor-- completely knock it out. Neither Bridget nor Loki could get it restarted.”
“Hold on, it was Maximoff ?? Let’s forget about me for a second, why did she attack the car??” Wade sat up straight as fear flashed in his eyes.
“She and Rogers were trying to get to Rem.” James replied softly, something raw and angry flashing across his expression. “They kidnapped him and took him across state lines to an old SHIELD safehouse, and Maximoff threw up some kind of barrier to keep us from finding them.”
Wade’s eyes widened with horror at the explanation. “But they couldn’t have been hard to track! I mean, you have Tony and Minowa and Stephen, they’re the power trio of magic in this place!”
Natasha squeezed the brunette’s hand again as she continued, “They were also completely incapacitated at the time. Stephen was in a coma, and Minowa was… have any of them told you about the Fractures?”
A sound of distress escaped the merc at the question. “She fucking Fractured?! Bridget said that even I would have trouble surviving that! What the fuck happened that caused her to get into that state??”
An ominous silence filled the room for several seconds before James silently approached the bed and sat in the chair next to it, giving the bedridden man a devastated expression. “Tony’s bond with Rem alerted him that he was in danger, and when he went to check on Rem… he was attacked, too. Difference is that Rogers… took it a step farther.”
It only took a second for Wade to realize what the sniper was alluding to. “Holy shit, did he… he killed Tony, didn’t he?”
James frowned and looked over at Natasha, and the assassin gave Wade a knowing smile as he looked towards her as well. “He would have, but… being the chosen of the Master of Death has some advantages, as you know.”
“ Shit ,” the brunette whispered in realization, “things must have been well and truly in the shitter if you were told that information.” Both assassins nodded, prompting a small whistle from Wade. “When both the Black Widow and the Winter Soldier both agree on how dire a situation is… How bad?”
A silent conversation passed between Nat and James before they both turned back to the merc. “We were fighting fires on several fronts,” James started in a solemn tone. “Tony’s Displacement set of a chain reaction of both Stephen falling into a coma and triggering Min’s Fracture. Someone had tried to infiltrate the Compound-- fortunately, that was the least pressing issue since it had already been taken care of. No one could figure out where Rogers and Maximoff had taken Rem, and you were actually in very real danger of dying because of the cancer. Loki, Slei, and Jor were feeding you healing magic for almost 24 hours straight.”
Nat picked up where he left off, “Tony came back not long after, and he, Stephen, Bruce, and Bridget immediately took you into surgery. Seeing as there wasn’t much we could do but wait for a sign or hint of where Rem was, we-- that being Sam, Scott, Clint, and myself-- were told everything regarding the Reapers, Hadrian, the multiverse… all of it. It took a day or two, but we finally managed to pinpoint where Rem was being held. When we got there, though…” A choked noise escaped the assassin as a small sheen of tears welled up in her eyes, and James reached over to gently take her other hand. “Wade, Rem wasn’t done with his antibiotics, and the barrier Maximoff put up… we think it was made to weaken Rem so he couldn’t escape. It ended up making him sick again, but Rogers didn’t get him any kind of medicine or medical help… by the time we found him, he had advanced pneumonia, and was barely clinging to life.”
Wade shot the nearby door a terrified look, and James quickly reached out to grab his shoulder in a steadying grip. “You saw him yourself, Wade-- he’s alive, and he’s on the mend. Rogers and Maximoff are holed up in two of the most secure cells in this place with no chance of escaping.”
A shaky sigh of relief escaped the merc as he slumped over, tension flooding from his body. “Thank fuck, the moment you said advanced pneumonia…” He scrubbed his face with his hand before pulling it away to study the unscarred skin again.
The redhead of the group couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped her at the awed look on the man’s face. “Necessity dictated that you go in for surgery a bit earlier than originally planned, but at the end of the day… the procedure was a success, Wade. You’re officially cancer-free.”
“I…” For the first time in his life, the merc-with-a-mouth found himself lost for words, and his eyes drifted to his hands again almost unconsciously. “I just… it feels like a dream. I can see the proof right there in front of me, I feel like a million bucks, but… I’ve spent so long living with it as a reality that… It doesn’t feel real.”
Smirking knowingly, James immediately reached over to tug a few strands of the merc’s brunette hair, prompting an indignant, pained squawk from Wade. “How about now? Feel real enough to ya?”
A burst of laughter escaped Wade at both the motion and the words, though it didn’t take long for James and Nat to realize the laughter had become sobs. “Hey, it’s okay, Wade,” Nat didn’t hesitate to stand and pull Wade into a hug, soothingly running her fingers through his hair as James reached to rub his back. “You’re okay, Rem’s okay, everyone’s okay. Just let it out, you’re safe here.” She murmured comfortingly, giving the assassin on the other side of the bed a knowing look, getting a nearly identical one in return. They knew that the sudden influx of information and events were overwhelming the man who hadn’t even been awake for any of it, and he needed a few minutes to process before they could continue.
It took almost fifteen minutes before Wade inhaled deeply and let it out in a shaky sigh, pulling away from both assassins while wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Never thought I’d see the day when I’d be getting emotional comfort from the fourth and fifth scariest people I know.” He quipped with a wet chuckle, giving them both a shaky grin.
The duo smiled at him as they retook their seats, though James couldn’t help but ask, “Only the fourth and fifth?”
Wade immediately nodded at that. “Third is Phil-- I’ve heard stories about that guy, and you couldn’t offer me enough to screw with him. Second is Bridget, though that’s to be expected given her occupation. That woman does not fuck around when it comes to her practice and patients.”
Both assassins nodded in agreement at that. “What about the first?”
There was quiet for a second as Wade looked at them individually with an uncharacteristically grim expression on his face. “Ever seen someone eject a foreign presence from their mind and kill them by superheating themselves so high that the release of energy reduced everything in the room to molten slag and ash in a fraction of a second? Ever witness someone send a person flying through a window by yelling at them?” Getting simultaneous shakes of the head, Wade sat forward and pinned them with the intensity of his hazel eyes. “I have. James, you’re completely safe from her, but you, ‘Tasha? If you only ever listen to one piece of advice I give you, let it be this: never ever piss of Minowa Norddahl .”
A soft ‘ah’ of understanding escaped James as he sat back in his seat. “Okay, I concede that point… honestly though?” He gave them both a roguish grin, “Watching her kick ass is goddamn sexy .”
Nat gave him an incredulous, shocked look as Wade cackled at the declaration.
---
Loki made a small noise as he lifted his bag before giving the trio next to him a bright smile. “Anthony, thank you for your help in extending our stay at Disney. I’ll give Laura and the kids your love, alright?”
The genius nodded with a half-smile on his face as he leaned into the embrace of his soulmate. “It was no problem, Lokes. Do you plan on telling them about what happened?”
“I do. Now that things have calmed down, I can make them aware of what transpired here while simultaneously reassuring them that everything is okay now. If they’d been told while everything was still going on, they wouldn’t have been able to enjoy the park to its full extent. Now, they can be informed, and the fact that everything has been resolved means they won’t fret about it too much, if at all.”
Minowa nodded in agreement with his words. “Children are more perceptive than you would believe. I think you made the right choice in waiting to tell them.”
The ebony-haired man gave her a grateful nod before turning his eyes to Stephen, who waved his hand to open a portal. Before he could move towards it, three blondes entered the room from the other side. “Hello, girls,” He greeted the trio with a bright smile and immediately had to open his arms to catch them as they all hugged him simultaneously.
“We’re glad to see you again, Uncle Loki!” Phoebe mumbled into his shoulder, happy to know the chaos was over and that everyone was okay.
Mindee gave the man a bright, happy grin as she pulled away. “We made sure the kids were happy while you were away helping everyone!”
A smirk quirked at Esme’s lips as she stepped back as well. “And we made sure they were safe, too. Had a couple of people try to take pictures. Let’s just say they didn’t get too far with that idea.”
Loki gave them a grateful smile and a nod. “You three have my thanks for protecting Laura and our kids. Now, I’m sure your mother and sisters are eager to see you again, and I need to return to my family.” The group bade him goodbye, and Stephen closed the portal once he’d gone through, cutting off the squeals that erupted at his entrance.
Cognac eyes sparkled as Tony turned towards the trio, and he staggered backward a few feet as they threw themselves at him to hug him. “Hey, easy girls, I’m okay,” He gently soothed them, pressing kisses to each of their heads as his soulmate joined in on the hug. Despite the distance between them and the chaos that had unfolded at the Compound, it was clear that the girls had been shaken by what happened. “Everyone’s safe, Rem is on the mend, and things are calm again. You three did a fantastic job, I’m so proud of you.”
“We were really worried about you both, Uncle Tony, Uncle Stephen…” Phoebe admitted as she buried her face in Tony’s chest. Mindee and Esme both nodded at her words, content to bask in the comfort of the group hug.
Stephen shot Tony a small smile as he hugged the quintuplet closest to him tight against him-- from the choker around her neck, it was Esme in his arms. “We know, girls. You were so strong and brave, and we’re both proud of you.”
The group fell into quiet for several minutes, though a call of the trio’s names caused them to pull apart and look towards the source. Sophie and Celeste bounced over with massive grins on their faces, and the five quickly found themselves in their own group hug. Stephen and Tony gave each other indulgent grins and quickly slipped from the room to give the sisters a chance to reconnect. “And the Cuckoos return to the nest,” Tony murmured as he leaned into the sorcerer next to him, prompting the man to slip an arm around his waist. “Emma will be relieved to have her daughters all under one roof again.”
The Sorcerer Supreme hummed and nodded in agreement. “It’s good that everyone is settling back into some semblance of normal. After everything that’s happened…” He took a shuddering breath before leaning over briefly to press a kiss to Tony’s head. The genius stopped and turned to pull Stephen into a firm, reassuring kiss that he didn’t hesitate to reciprocate. He reveled in the intimate gesture from the man he loved more than life itself, the man he would burn the world for. The kiss was just beginning to take a turn for the indecent before the sound of a throat being cleared caused them to pull apart, heads swiveling in the direction of the doorway.
Hazel eyes glittered with amusement as Dorian gave them a smirk, Zevrael standing just behind him with a hand in front of his mouth as he tried to stifle his laughter. “ Fratris ,” The mage drawled, “I know you’re happy to have your soulmate back, but if we let that progress any farther we’d run the risk of the children being exposed to their first case of indecent exposure in a public area.”
“Bold of you to assume we would have stuck around for that long.” Tony snarked right back, prompting an amused chuckle out of everyone along with a ‘good point’ from the Vint. Once they managed to calm down, the genius continued, “So what can I do for you both today? I get the feeling you’re not just here to sass us about our PDA.”
The faces of both Pavus men fell at the question. “It’s about something we saw on the television earlier…”~~~
“... sixth in a string of murders that have plagued New York over the past month. This time, the victim was a young man, 23-year-old Jerald Spencer, recently graduated from ESU…”
A choked noise escaped Dorian when he saw the picture of the young man-- pale skin, fiery red tresses similar to the ones that covered his son’s head and that of his mother. Immediately, Zevrael pulled him into his arms in a comforting movement before looking up at the other two in the room. “That’s the fourth one that’s been a redhead…” He murmured as he began to card his fingers through his husband’s brunette locks.
James nodded with a deep-set frown on his face as he studied the picture. “The victims are all pretty young, too… ‘Tasha?”
Vibrant green eyes narrowed to slits as she nodded in agreement. “If the trend is anything to go by… yeah, Rem would be a prime candidate for whoever this sick bastard is.”
The four fell into contemplative silence as the footage continued to play. “I don’t want him staying here.” Dorian finally spoke in a soft voice, catching their attention. “After everything that just happened, after what he just went through… Until whoever is doing this is found, I don’t want to put Rem in a position where he’s this psycho’s next victim.”
“I don’t blame you for that…” Zev hummed softly, pressing a kiss to Dorian’s head. “He’s been through too much already only to have the potential threat of whoever this is targeting him hanging over his head.” The silverette looked between the two assassins who moved to sit on the table in front of them. “What do you think?”
Immediately, the duo nodded in approval. “At this point in time, he’d be much safer in Thedas than here.” Icy blue eyes glanced at the window to look outside suspiciously before turning back to the group as a whole. “I do have a request, though…” Getting nods from the duo, he stated plainly, “Take us with you.”
Seeing the startled looks on Zevrael and Dorian’s faces, Nat gave them a soft smile and reached to grab their hands. “We-- all four of us-- nearly lost our son. We want to keep him close, but we respect your right as his adopted parents to make the choice to keep him safe. I think we could do it better together.”
There was quiet for several seconds before Dorian nodded sharply. “I’ll make arrangements for travel. You must understand that things function very differently in Thedas, however-- we’ll have to catch both of you up on the latest happenings and higher powers.”
“On that note…” A smirk slowly slid across Zev’s face as he gave his husband a cheeky look. “Perhaps now would be a good time to mention our son’s status in our world?”
Hazel eyes closed in exasperation, a groan escaping the Vint as Natasha and James looked at him quizzically. “Alright. The short version is that I’m a Magister of Tevinter-- that basically means I’m a noble of the country. My title as Magister Pavus means that Rem is the Pavus Scion-- he’d take on the title after me should something happen.”
A few seconds of silence followed before James sat forward in his chair. “Yeah, I think we’re gonna need the long version, Dorian.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that…”
~~~
“It’s not a bad idea.” Tony hummed with a thoughtful look on his face. “Rem could do with some time to rest and recover from what he’s been through, and I’m confident that everyone in Skyhold would keep him safe, regardless of his proclivity of getting into trouble without going to look for it himself.”
Stephen nodded with a small smile. “It helps that his parents will be going with him. Dorian and Zevrael are powerful on their own, but James and Natasha are terrifying .”
The Pavus men immediately nodded at that. “I’m honestly afraid of what's going to happen when they meet Leliana and Zevran.” The elf pondered with a curious expression on his face.
“Zevrael Pavus, don’t even joke about that.” Tony immediately responded with wide eyes. “If you added Josephine into the mix, what you’d have is the entirety of Thedas under your thumb in a week .”
“Imagine if they added Pepper into that mix.”
“A day. It would happen in a day.”
“Sounds about right…”
---
The mood in the room was somber and grim as a group of young adults sat around a circular table, studying several holographic screens in front of them. “We need to up our game.” Harley said with a tone of utter finality as he scrolled through several pieces of footage. “It was one thing when Mechanic got taken out of the workshop by Mordo. This, this was uncool and unacceptable on a thousand levels.”
Sleipnir nodded from where he was seated with determination alight in his brown eyes. “We were assaulted on several fronts, which resulted in the loss of our leaders. Such a thing cannot be permitted to happen again.”
“I’ve already started going around the building etching protective runes into the various duct entrances,” Jörmungandr continued, pulling up a projection of the Compound with the various ducts lit up. “Now that Rogers, Maximoff, and Reed have been detained, we need to turn our attention to the other potential threats out there. Currently those consist of the New Orleans Assassins Guild and the X-Men.”
Peter scrunched up his nose adorably, something that nearly caused the godlings on either side of him to coo. “From what Rem has told me, as long as he stays far away from New Orleans, the Assassins Guild won’t go out of their way to actively attack him.” He informed them before gesturing to the X-Men. “But them? They worry me. From what I’ve heard, they treated Rem really poorly before, and they have a telepath there that could completely rewrite his personality to their standards. For now, I think they’re the most obvious threat.”
“It doesn’t help that you all posted pictures of him for all to see during the Amber Alert.” All eyes turned to where Shuri was pulling up her own screen, a frown on her face. “I’m betting the X-Men saw it, and they recognized him in a second. I know Tony has been driving Worthington Industries into the ground-- I believe they’re planning on filing for bankruptcy soon. Between that and the fact that they were suddenly cut off from Professor Xavier’s money, they’re probably desperate right now. I’m betting they’ve already started blaming Rem for what they’re going through.”
All of the guys nodded at her words before Slei continued, “The New Avengers and other residents of the Compound do not need to be dealing with the imminent threat they pose after they have endured such a traumatic experience themselves. Therefore, I believe the correct course of action is to turn the attention of the Harbingers towards the Institute and its residents. Before now, our aim was to target the Rogues as a whole until it was discovered how many had defected. This time, we don’t have to hold back.” A projection of the Xavier Institute was pulled up, along with blueprints on other monitors and a list of residents on the other. “Uncle Anthony compiled this information while helping Logan in retrieving his and Rem’s stuff. Now, we are going to use it to make sure the X-Men are too busy with the havoc we bring to even begin to turn their attention on us.”
The group as a whole nodded before turning to shift through the information. “But where do we start?” Peter asked as he studied and turned the 3D blueprint.
“Five hundred.” All eyes once again turned to Shuri, who sat back in her chair with a dark, gleeful look in her eyes. “The Rogues. They only found five hundred.”
It took a split second for everyone to understand what she was implying, but once they had a round of laughter escaped them all. “Princess,” Jör declared with a massive grin on his face filled with too many teeth, “I think you’re going to do just fine here with us. So tell us-- what’s your first idea?”
---
“We’re ruined !! Completely and absolutely ruined , and it’s all that little slut’s fault!!”
Ignoring the calls for him to wait and come back, Warren stormed from the room with a wild look in his eyes. He immediately made a beeline for his room and slammed the door behind him. It was over. Worthington Industries was finished and would be filing for bankruptcy before the new year. A snarl escaped him as he swiped his arm across the desk, scattering papers everywhere, all of which contained red text and numbers of some kind. Damn Stark Industries, damn Tony Stark, and most of all, damn that stupid slut of a thief! The little shit should have done the world a favor and died in Antarctica like he was supposed to! He spun around to storm into the bathroom before stopping dead at what was sitting on his bed.
A rubber duck with a mop of blonde hair, a black bodysuit, and an extra pair of metallic wings coming from its back seemed to be looking right at him, and for a moment the mutant couldn’t help but marvel at the intricate little thing. After a moment though, something about the duck began to change, and it took Warren only seconds to realize what it was-- the metal wings of the duck were melting, the stench of liquified rubber quickly filling the room as the material dripped onto his comforter. Soon the entire rubber duck was melting, but instead of being completely destroyed, another duck soon emerged from the melted remains-- a red one with glaring eyes, a pair of horns on its head, and holding a little trident.
Warren’s mouth dropped open in silent horror, unable to utter a noise due to his throat closing up from sheer terror. In the chilling silence that followed, a whisper echoed through the room.
“ Murderer. ”
Archangel ran from the room with an unusually high-pitched scream, chased by the sound of sinister laughter. |
Christen: Tobin, I am sorry I left last night I owe you an explanation. I’ve called you a bunch of times and even left a few voicemails. Can we please talk about this? I am so sorry.
She sent the text off after finding a spot to charge her phone at the airport. She had a ton of missed calls from Tobin along with voicemails and texts. Her phone had died right after she ordered an Uber back to Tobin’s place to grab her belongings. It was on the way to the airport, after changing her flight, that realization of what she had done set in. She sent off that text before boarding her flight waiting until the last minute for a response. It never came though.
-----------
The first few nights Tobin doesn’t sleep, she leaves her phone off most of the time and when she does turn it on she regrets it. Eventually she flies back to LA so that she can get everything sorted out for the three weeks she is about to spend at camp with the National Team. Everyday Christen has texted, called, and left voicemails. Tobin ignores them.
Well she doesn’t ignore them completely. She reads the texts, she listens to the voicemails but she doesn’t respond. She hopes that maybe she will stop. That the next time she turns her phone off it won’t light up with notifications.
The only time she has left the house has been to train on her own first thing each morning. After she has put in a few hours she returns home and doesn’t leave. It’s only a full week after locking herself away does Tobin finally respond to Christen.
It’s been a week since that night now. She hasn’t talk to her since.
----------
Tobin is reporting to camp this morning and she knows a lot of people are going to have a lot of questions. Questions like where the hell she has been, why she hasn’t answered her phone. And if shes being honest she doesn’t really care to answer to any of them. She feels like she’s had her heart stepped on twice in the last few months and she feels damned if anyone is going to think they are entitled to answers. This camp is about development and preparation for the World Cup this summer. That’s all that matters.
She is in and out of the locker room before anyone else shows up. Forgoing the trip in the team van. Jill might kill her for it but it’s a blow she’s willing to take. Her warm ups are on and she’s doing some solo drills on the field when she hears the first group emerge from the locker room. They’ve got about an hour before the first real team meeting and everyone has come out to stretch and run drills.
Tobin has a shot lined up on an open goal when all of a sudden the back of her shirt is being pulled roughly in the opposite direction.
It’s Kelley.
“What the hell, Kell”
She doesn’t answer Tobin, instead forcing her towards the sidelines away from the team.
Tobin starts walking willingly because this is ridiculous. They stop when they’re far enough from everyone else that no one could possibly over hear this conversation that’s about to take place.
She knows Kelley is looking at her but she refuses to make eye contact. If she is being honest, she just wants her to get whatever she needs to off her chest so she can go back to ignoring everyone and warm up.
“Tobin, dude, I love you and I need you to say something because this, this thing you’re doing. It’s not healthy.”
The words shock her a little. She anticipated some full blown Kelley rant about how she has been acting but this was unexpected.
“I’m not ready. The other night it--”
“Broke you? Cause that’s what it did to her too you know. It broke her, Tobin. I kind of want to strangle you and hug you at the same time. I’m not going to kill you right now because there is someone who would have my head over it, but she’s wrecked dude.”
Tobin turns and walks away. Kelley doesn’t fight her about it.
----------
A week earlier
Tobin had waited a few days to answer Christen’s onslaught of texts and calls she had been outright ignoring. It was kept pretty simple. They were both back in LA ahead of camp coming up and Tobin said she could come by if she wanted to talk.
Christen showed up literally minutes later. It was obvious she wanted to rectify the situation. Tobin however just wanted answers and it became apparent quickly that they weren’t on the same page.
From the moment Christen had left that night she felt guilty. It was an immature way to respond to something like that and she knew Tobin had done nothing wrong. Or at least she was sure of it. Tobin had thus far been very forthcoming about everything going on with her relationship. She figured if they were trying to work things out or had been in contact Tobin would have shared that. She made a snap judgement and she was regretting it.
She walked into Tobin’s house with her guard down, her heart in her hands.
She let herself in and found Tobin sitting at the counter in her kitchen. She set her phone and keys down on the counter across from her not saying anything right away.
“Did you come over here to just stand there or?” Tobin’s words were harsh. She remembers the night in the locker room, after the red card. She didn’t want to ever see that Tobin again, but right now. She was sitting across from her.
“I came here to apologize. I came here to explain and talk this out. The way adults handle their problems.” Christen’s tone was accusatory.
“Oh so now you want to talk? To act like an adult? Where was that a week ago Christen? Don’t come in here and act like I am the one handling this situation poorly. You what, read a text, a partial text! on my phone and decided you didn’t want anything to do with me after that? You know my passcode you could have read the whole thing. But Jesus, you didn’t even give me the decency of telling me yourself you were leaving. Let poor Emily do it and leave me to pick up the pieces.”
Christen couldn’t tell if she was going to yell back or cry. The look in Tobin’s eyes made her heart drop.
“I made a mistake Tobin. A mistake I quickly tried to fix but here you are hiding in your house ignoring everyone refusing to be apart of this?”
“I shouldn’t have to be apart of anything. I didn’t do anything wrong and you put me in a corner like I did. I’m supposed to be able to count on you Christen, to understand and to think the best of me before you think the worst, but I guess I was wrong about that. You two must have that in common”
Tobin didn’t mean it. But it came out and it triggered something in Christen. She was not going to compare her to her ex.
“Tell me how you really feel Tobin. Oh wait you don’t do that do you. Instead we can just keep dancing around whatever this is” she waves her hand between them “and you can keep saying things, and do things, AND KISSING ME, as if it means nothing and we will just never talk about it.”
“At least you admit I’m not the only one not talking about it.” Tobin bites back at her.
They both go quiet for a minute. The tension seems to wane but when Tobin speaks again it’s the last thing either of them truly wanted to hear.
“I think you should go because I don’t think we come back from this” Tobin was speaking softly now. No more yelling.
Christen is shocked. It’s a fight. It’s not like their other fights no, but to throw away everything because of this?
“Tobin, you don’t mean that”
“No, I do mean it. I can’t take being hurt again and if something so simple as lack of communication brings us here, not trusting each other, then I can’t do it. I won’t. So, you should go.”
Tears are streaming down Christen’s face now and for a moment Tobin wants to grab her and wrap her in her arms. Pretend none of this ever happened. But she can’t, she’s hurt and the look on Christen’s face is only breaking her more. She doesn’t watch her leave but she hears her open and close the front door.
Tobin leans forward and breaks. Sobbing audibly into her hands. She blew this up and she can’t be sure it was the right choice.
------------
Day three of camp and everyone is settling in. Most people leave Tobin to herself when they aren’t on the field. When she steps onto the pitch she leaves the whole outside world at the touch line and gets to work.
It’s easy to be herself on the pitch. Leaving the hurt and anger behind and relaxing. It’s at the end of the day when she steps back off she is faced to deal with it.
At lunch Kelley refuses to let her sit alone like everyone else has been doing. They sit in silence for awhile before Tobin breaks it.
“Is she somehow managing to absolutely avoid me or is she invisible now?’
It’s day three and Tobin hasn’t seen Christen once.
“What?” Kelley says with a mouth full of food.
“Christen, I know she’s here but I haven’t seen her once”
Kelley is looking at the food on her plate silently for a moment.
“Tobin, she took a leave of absence. She hasn’t been here at all. You know what today is right?”
Tobin shakes her head slowly. Kelley just stares at her waiting for the dots to connect.
“Her Mom” Tobin is barely audible and she sees her friend nod sympathetically.
After a few moments of thought she checks the time on her phone and slides away from the table without saying other word to Kelley. Tobin finds Jill out in the hall and asks to speak with her privately.
--------
The sun starts to set so early this time of year and the two hour drive killed what was left of the high afternoon sun. When she pulls into the driveway she figures there’s maybe thirty minutes of daylight. Jill let her take the rest of the afternoon off after basically pleading her case without letting Jill even get a word in edgewise.
Tobin is making her way down to the beach, climbing over the rocks to a lookout over the cove, not too far from where her original destination was. As she gets to the top she can see a figure in the distance, just a silhouette against the last bits of sun over the horizon. She climbs down the rest of the way.
“Did you know the light after the sun has gone down is called Afterglow? Well technically afterglow is any remnants of light after the source of the light is gone, but it applies to sunsets too.”
The sky was painted with deep pinks and oranges.
Christen doesn’t turn around to look at her but responds.
“What are you doing here Tobin? You are supposed to be at camp”
“No, I’m not” She finally turns around to see tousled brown hair framing Tobin’s face, she’s still in her warm up shorts, a hoodie and wearing sandals. She knows she came straight from camp. “There isn’t anywhere I am supposed to be right now, except right here” Her expression was serious and Christen didn’t know what to make of it. She didn’t know what to make of anything Tobin did lately.
As Tobin stepped closer Christen stiffened and she stopped. Her heart sank. But then she felt her whole body being jolted a step back as arms wrapped around her torso.
She took a deep breath and pulled her in tighter placing a kiss to the side of Christens head as she felt her start to shake, quietly crying into Tobin’s shoulder. They stayed like this for a few minutes. She could feel the sobs slow in her arms.
“I have made a lot of mistakes in my life, and I’ve been someone I don’t recognize, I’ve lost my mind. I don’t ever want to be either of those things with you. The idea of losing you physically hurts me and I thought you were going to hurt me, so I hurt you first. I never want to do that to you, I can’t lose you Chris, because now, I don’t know who I am without you. This was entirely on me and I punished you. I don’t know how to even start asking for forgiveness but I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how sorry I am if that’s what it takes to make sure I never lose you.”
Christen squeezes Tobin tighter listening to her words. She isn’t sure she can pull away to look at her right now, so she doesn’t. She can hear her sniffling though. Her chest tightens knowing Tobin is crying. Things got so messed up so quickly.
“She would have loved you, Tobin.” Christen moves to wipe her face on Tobin’s pullover and then lays her head back down. They’re still holding each other looking out as the sky slowly turns from pinks and oranges to a light purple. “Everything about you, you wouldn’t have had to win her over. But she would have given you a hard time at first just to mess with you. The same way you do to embarrass me.”
Part of Christen wants to lean back and finally look at her but she stays right where she is at, as to not to lose her nerve for what she needs to say next.
“I let myself assume the worst because it meant I could avoid talking about this thing we won’t talk about. We both have to admit that’s exactly why this blew up the way it did. We communicate really well but when it came to this… I know we both avoided dealing with it. Maybe for different reasons but neither of us want to lose each other and so we resort to self sabotage. That’s what I did when I left on New Years, that’s what you did the other night. I know you Tobin, I know you didn’t mean anything you said but
fuck
it still hurt that you would even say it. You don’t have to ask for forgiveness, but you do have to keep a promise.” Finally leaning back to make eye contact she can see that Tobin has been crying, she doesn't know how she kept so quiet about it because she has full on alligator tears coming down her cheeks now.
“You have to promise me that you’re always going to be my best friend, and that we will always assume the best before the worst and we will always, always talk it out. We are gonna fight Tobin, that’s human nature but it can’t ever be like this again. I can’t take it. I mean it this time.”
“I promise.” She doesn’t say more than that. Tobin can’t.
“And we do need to talk about this, whatever this is. But I don’t want to do it tonight. Right now I need my best friend, I haven’t slept in weeks and today was… today was hard. But I need to do this because being away from you has been difficult and I can’t stand watching you cry.”
Christen leans forward and places a gentle kiss to Tobin’s lips. She can taste the tears that she has been wiping away. She brings one hand to Christens hair and slowly returns the kiss. It’s not urgent, it’s gentle and slow. They break apart after a few seconds and then Christen places her head back on her shoulder.
“Hey Chris?”
“ Yeah Tobs?”
“When did you steal my sweater from my closet?”
Christen giggles. She’s wearing it right now.
“The night I snuck in to put your present under your tree. Did you ever open it?”
“Uhh, I haven’t even taken the tree down yet.”
“Tobin! Christmas was three weeks ago!”
“Yeah, well taking down Christmas decorations was exactly on my priority list.”
Christen knows what shes saying. Tobin doesn’t have to tell her how that last two weeks have went. She’s been doing the same things.
“I will swing by your place and grab it, and I’ll bring it to you at camp next week.”
“Kelley said you were on a leave of absence?”
“Just through tomorrow, then I’ll be back. Can you stay tonight or do you need to get back?” Christen was bracing herself for disappointment that she was going to need to drive the two hours back to Santa Barbra tonight.
“No, Jill told me to take tomorrow too but I am slated to do some one on one with her during the team’s recovery day to make up for it.”
It’s nearly dark when the two of them make their way up the cove and back to the house. Christen had wondered how Tobin found her. She told her the story of how she came straight to her parents house and knocked on the door and her Dad told Tobin where she was before she even had to ask. Christen stops Tobin in the driveway and asks if they can drive back to LA so she can sleep in her own bed. Her sister had picked her up the night before so she didn’t have her car with her.
Tobin waits for her in the car but it isn’t long before they are back on the road to Christen’s house. The drive is quiet, she sings along softly to the radio looking over occasionally at a mess of curly black hair leaned against the window. She had to have fallen asleep no more than a few minutes into the drive.It’s not until they are pulling into the driveway when Christen turns her head and smiles sleepily, stretching in her seat.
“Hey Tobs, I’m gonna shower real quick before bed”
Tobin places her keys on the table and nods at her before she heads up the stairs. She takes a look around the condo seeing that it has some resemblance to the current state of her own house. The dishes are piled in the sink, the garbage is full, there is clutter all over the counter and the piles of blankets, and scattered dirty dishes on the coffee table in the living room are a tell tale.
She starts with the living room and the garbage cleaning up and throwing away wrappers and to-go containers and bags. The house is almost back to its typical cleanliness when Christen comes back downstairs. Tobin is finishing up a few dishes as two arms wrap around her stomach and she feels a head resting on her back. “Tobs you didn’t have to do all this” she feels the guilt pang in her chest that Tobin had cleaned her house.
“I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything this week, especially chores. Today was hard for you, and these past couple of weeks have been hard, so let me do what I can okay?” She nods into her back agreeing with her, placing a kiss to her shoulder.
Rinsing the last dish and placing it in the dishwasher Tobin moves to grab the soap she needs, forcing the embrace to end. Once the washer is started she grabs Christen’s hand and pulls her back in, facing her this time.
“I see you put my sweater back on. Are you a tar heels fan now, Press?”
“In your dreams, Heath”
“Hmm every night, sweetheart”
She’s said that before, this time though Christen doesn’t have to over analyze the meaning.
Tobin takes her own turn in the shower and changes into some clothes she had left there at some point. Christen is already in bed laying on her side reading a book by the time she had finished her bed time routine.
Sliding under the covers she is intentional on leaving space between the two of them. They had slept like this for months, together but apart. That eventually changed of course, but they still haven’t talked about the elephant in the room so Tobin attempts to be respectful and keep her distance.
Christen has other ideas though. She places the book on her night stand and turns the light off before scooting all the way under the duvet facing Tobin. She moves closer until her head is against Tobins chest.
Hesitantly, Tobin lifts her arm to allow her to move a little closer before slowly moving her arm around Christen. She’s holding her as they face each other.
This was new, they hadn’t slept like this before and Tobin felt like it was far more intimate.
“Tobs?”
‘Hmm”
“Stop over thinking it and go to sleep.”
It was as if she had read Tobin’s mind. The realization that she was tensing up doesn’t dawn on her until she relaxes more into the embrace. Tonight might be personal record for how quickly Christen had fallen asleep, and she finds that she isn’t too far behind.
----------
KO: Dude, are you okay? You just disappeared yesterday and I thought maybe you went to see a trainer or take a nap but you weren’t at dinner last night and I went to meet you for our run this morning and you didn’t show?
Tobin heard the text go off and rolled over to check it. It was just after 5am and typically she would be awake to go for a run with Kelley. Even in camp they took time to themselves in the morning to go on a run and grab breakfast or coffee.
Tobinho: Made a deal with Jill to take 24 hours off, will be back this afternoon.
KO: Is everything okay?
Tobin looks down watching as the woman wrapped up in her arms continues to sleep with a peaceful expression on her face.
Everything was definitely okay
.
Tobinho: Yeah Kell, everything is okay. We can talk at tonight at dinner.
KO: Did you go see Christen?
If anyone ever said Kelley was intuitive they would be right, that or she just knew her friends well enough to know that Tobin’s sudden change in wanting to be social definitely had to come from fixing what was causing her to retreat in the first place.
Tobinho: Kelley it’s 5am, we will talk later.
Incoming Call KO
Tobin answers but doesn’t say anything.
“Tobin” She can hear her whispering on the other end.
“What do you want?” She tries to say it loud enough that it’s audible but not so much that she wakes up Christen.
“Where are you?” Kelley doesn’t ask with curiosity in her voice or even concern. She’s teasing.
“I am in bed, Kelley. Trying to sleep”
“Whose bed? Cause it’s not your hotel room bed” Kelley is still whispering but it’s more like she’s talking and pretending to whisper.
“Kelley, Christen is asleep and I would like to not wake her up, so we can talk about this later, okay?”
“HA? I knew it” Kelley yells and Tobin jerks the phone away from her face. She feels the body next to her shift but after a moment she thinks she is in the clear.
“Bye Kelley”
“Tobin!”
“What?” She bites back almost above the whisper she had been keeping.
“I’m happy for you”
Tobin rolls her eyes and says goodbye again before hanging up and silencing her phone. The next time she wakes up it's to green eyes smiling up at her.
|
I drove with the windows down on my way to work, enjoying a rare summer breeze. The sun was out for once, shining through the few clouds that remained in the blue sky. After I’d- well, I suppose I could call it hallucinated, as I had no other explanation- I had gone back up to my room and crawled underneath my covers so that I could muffle my sobs. I’d fallen asleep again after an hour or so, and had almost slept through my alarm. I had gone without breakfast and mixed a quick coffee before heading out the door with my shoes in my hand.
When I finally pulled into the parking lot, I was already five minutes late. I rushed through the door, tying the strings of my apron behind my back as I entered.
“Hey, sorry I’m late.” I said to Blake as I hurried behind the counter to clock in.
“No worries.” They said, shrugging.
“Where’s Mike?” I asked, pulling my messy hair into a bun on top of my head to keep it out of the way.
“Climbing gear.” They pointed to aisle four. “Can you take over for me behind the counter? I’m gonna head in the back and do the inventory for the truck.”
The day was just as busy as I expected. I barely left the register, and Mike was mostly in charge of keeping the floor stocked. Some of the older residents of Forks came in for ammo, including Mr. Lee- who had tagged several deer so far, but no mutant super-bears. His determination hadn’t faded, though. He was going back out tonight to hunt it down. He told Aunt Sadie that he thought he found tracks leading into the northern woods.
“Be careful, Johnny.” She told him, handing him his receipt.
“Will do, Sadie.” He tipped his hat and grabbed his bags. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”
A few hours after he left, I was restocking one of the front aisles when I heard someone call my name.
“Bella!” I turned to see Lauren skipping towards me, her high ponytail swinging from side to side. Behind her, I saw Jessica, Ben, and Eric. Eric had their arm around Ben’s shoulder, and I saw them place a firm kiss on the top of his head. Ben blushed before playfully pushing them away.
“Oh, hey.” I said, setting the last box of fishing hooks down as she reached me. “What are you guys doing here?”
Lauren pointed to Eric and Ben, who were still goofing off. “They wanted to grab some things for a picnic later. Neither of them have a car yet, so Ben called me and asked for a ride. Jess was with me anyway, so she tagged along.”
Jessica was wandering the aisle we were in, staring at the shelves without really looking at them. Her arms were crossed, and she was shifting from foot to foot. I waved, sure that it couldn’t be easy for her to be here when Mike was working. She blinked, hesitating before waving back half-heartedly.
“Anyway,“ Lauren said, lowering her voice. “What are you doing tomorrow? I need an excuse to leave my house- my parents are kind of getting on my last nerve.”
As it happened, it was my day off tomorrow. I had planned on spending the entire day at La Push… but the repairs were going so slowly now that I was in charge of my own. Besides, Lauren had been there when I needed my dad off my back. It was my turn to do the same for her.
“I’m off tomorrow, you can come over if you want. My dad will be at work all morning.” I said.
"Sweet." Lauren grinned and winked. “Can we smoke over there? If not, that's cool- it's just polite to ask first."
“Uh…” I hesitated, then shrugged. "Sure."
I highly doubted that it had been the weed that made me hear Rosalie's voice- but if I had the opportunity to try it again, I would take it. Especially since Plan A was taking longer than I had expected.
Lauren reached into her purse and pulled out a tube of lip gloss. She reapplied it before smacking her lips and tossing it back in the bag. Giving me a brief hug, she said, “Text me when you want me to head over.”
“Hey, Lauren!” Eric called, leaning their head around the corner to find her. “We’re ready- hey, Bella.”
“Hey.” I said, waving back at them before they headed back to the front door with their bags.
“Coming.” Lauren called, following them out the door with Jess by her side.
After work, I sent Leah a text and asked her to meet me at Jacob’s garage. She beat me there, and was already inspecting my motorcycle for the repairs she would be teaching me today. Jacob had finished his own repairs days ago, so he spent most of the time watching me instead. He tried to keep his laughing to a minimum- but it was only so easy when I kept dropping things and hurting myself.
I was getting the hang of it, though, thanks to Leah. She was surprisingly patient for someone so intimidating, and never patronized me for asking stupid questions. I’d had plenty of teachers over the years who had reduced me to tears with their methods- including Renee, when she had tried teaching me to drive for the first time. To her credit, though, she had only started yelling when I’d run over a mailbox and couldn’t find the brake.
“It looks like it’s almost finished.” Leah said, buffing the foggy headlight with the sleeve of her flannel shirt. “I think we should be done in a few days, maybe less.”
I grinned, looking down at my handiwork. In only a few days, I would be learning to ride a motorcycle- a motorcycle that I had repaired myself. Mostly myself, anyway. Jacob had given me a significant head start by the time Leah had stepped in and started teaching me. Still, I was proud of what I’d managed to pull off with my limited skill. I wasn’t going to pat myself on the back too early, though- we still had to see if it would run.
“We’ll have to find somewhere secluded so she can practice.” Jacob said, polishing the wheels of his own motorcycle with a torn up old t-shirt.
“Both of you need practice.” Leah said. “Unless you’ve already been practicing on your own when we’re not around.”
Jacob smirked. “So what if I did?”
Leah rolled her eyes at him. “Dumbass- what if you had crashed?”
“I didn’t.” Jacob said. “I’m fine, obviously.”
Leah looked like she wanted to argue, but went back to looking over my motorcycle instead. With one finger, she rubbed gently on a spot of grease that had landed on the fresh paint job. I’d picked out a slightly darker shade of red… almost the same shade as Rosalie's Mustang.
Satisfied, Leah stood back up and put her hands on her hips. “Well, I have to head out. I’ve got an opening shift tomorrow morning.”
We made plans to meet tomorrow after Leah got off work. I was glad that I had already made plans with Lauren to fill the free time beforehand. Unfortunately, those plans fell apart the next morning. Lauren called me as soon as I had gotten out of the shower.
“Hey, Bella…” She said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to make it today- Mom’s insisting on taking me on a ‘Girl’s Day.’”
“Oh.” I said, trying not to let myself sound as disappointed as I was.
“Yeah, I’m sorry.“ She went on, sighing heavily. “I’ll call you when I’m free, though. Do you have plans later?”
I bit my lip. “Sort of… I’ll be down at the Quileute reservation with a family friend.”
“Fuuuck.” Lauren groaned. “I’m sorry, I tried to get out of it, but she went on this whole long rant about how we should be spending more time together and I-”
“It’s okay, really.” I told her. “I get it. Go have fun with your mom. Call me later, okay?”
“’Kay- but I will make no promises on having fun.”
She hung up, and I was left standing in the middle of my bedroom facing hours of unoccupied time. At first I considered cleaning again- but I was tired of it. I was tired of finding distractions. Distractions wouldn’t bring her back to me… I racked my brain, trying to think of other things I could try to bring her voice to the surface again. What if I was wrong, and physical danger wasn’t the key at all? I had to try everything. Anything I could think of.
I paced my room, biting my already short nails- a bad habit I had fallen into lately. Once they were all cut down to stubs, I groaned in pent-up frustration. I spun on the spot until I saw my ratty tennis shoes leaning against my dresser. I usually only wore them to mow the lawn, and they were tinted a light green from all the weekends spent earning pocket money from my dad before I got a real job. Shrugging, I walked over and opened the top drawer of the dresser to grab a pair of socks.
I had never taken a morning walk in my life. It was something to do, though- at least until I thought of something. I pulled a pair of socks and an old sports bra from the top drawer before sifting through another for a tank top and a pair of shorts. I got dressed and walked downstairs, grabbing a few bites of a banana before heading out.
Even though it had been bright and sunny yesterday, the ever-present cloud cover had quickly returned. It was a bit warmer, though. I was glad of the breeze as I started walking down the street. I wasn’t sure where I was going, exactly, or what route to take. I would just keep walking until I got tired, or I came up with a new plan to hear Rosalie’s voice.
I had been walking for at least ten minutes, when I heard a rustling from the trees to my left. I froze in place and stared- half expecting to see Rosalie peeking round the branches. My eyes landed on a branch that was waving faster than the others, as if it had just been disturbed. I shook my head and kept walking, reminding myself that I was being paranoid. It was probably just a bird. I could hear a few of them chirping in the distance as I turned another corner.
I tried to keep my pace even as my calves protested. I had overestimated the distance I would be able to go, and I would definitely be paying for it tomorrow. There was a slight incline to the street I was walking down, and my thighs started to join in protest with my calves, conspiring against me and clearly planning my demise. I had just taken a break to stretch, when I heard something else; Footsteps, coming up quickly behind me.
I spun around to see who it was- and tripped over my own ankle, falling to the ground with a thud.
“Sorry!” A low voice said, and a pair of strong hands appeared in front of me to help me up. They felt familiar as I took them. When I had gotten safely to my feet again, I looked up to see Sam Uley staring back at me. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay.” I said, breathing heavily as my heart rate slowed. “I scare easy.”
Sam smiled. It was only then that I realized he was shirtless, wearing only a pair of running shoes and black basketball shorts. My eyes were drawn to the two long scars just under his pecs- faded slightly and clearly old. I had only a moment to wonder what had happened when he spoke again.
“So, you run this route often?” He asked, and my eyes snapped back up to his.
“Uh- no, not really.” I admitted. “I was just bored today, I guess. What are you doing way out here?”
“Marathon training.” He shrugged. “I like to run. It helps me keep a clear head. Do you mind if I join you for a bit? I was just about to take a break myself.”
I hesitated, battling the desire to be left alone against the desire to not seem rude. “Sure. I was just headed back home anyway.”
We started walking again. Sam let me set the pace, falling into step beside me. It felt strange, seeing him after all this time. My only real interactions with him had been brief- once, when he’d told me that the Cullens didn’t come to La Push- and once more… when he’d carried me from the woods. I kept my eyes down, wondering if he was thinking about the same thing- if he was picturing how I had looked on the day that he had found me.
“So- how have you been?” He asked suddenly, confirming my suspicions.
“I’ve been good.” I lied, biting my lip.
“That’s good.”
There was a beat of silence before I broke it again.
“I uh- don’t think I ever got the chance to thank you.” I said awkwardly, twisting my hands behind my back as we turned back onto my street. “For finding me…”
Sam didn’t look at me. He simply nodded and said, “You’re welcome. You didn’t have to thank me, though. Charlie’s family to Billy- so you’re family to us.”
We fell silent again. The only sound accompanying our footsteps was a light breeze that made the trees around us sway gently. I could see my house in the distance now. I wondered why Sam was following me home- then remembered that he had more reason to be concerned for my safety than others would be.
“I’ll see you around.” He said as I turned to walk up my driveway. “If you get bored again and want training tips, you can always get my number from Jacob or Billy.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I said, waving goodbye. Judging from the way my legs were shaking, I probably wouldn’t get bored enough to train for a marathon in a long time.
I watched him start jogging down the street again as I closed the front door behind me. I decided to leave my dirty shoes by the front door before going back upstairs to shower again. Once I was done, I took the time to detangle my hair. The wind had made it a mess. Clenching my jaw, I yanked my brush through the strands until they were smooth.
Back in my room, I took my time getting dressed, wondering what else I could do. I sat on the edge of my bed, massaging my throbbing calves and looking around my room for inspiration. My eyes landed on my closet door… the hole in my chest cried out the longer I stared. I swallowed, but my throat was suddenly very dry. The ringing in my ears had started again, and I shook my head to try to stop it.
There was one other possibility I’d thought of that may have made Rosalie’s voice manifest in my head. I’d thought about it before- but I’d ignored it in favor of the easier, less painful option… Deep down, I didn’t want to do it… but even deeper beneath that, I think I did… and I think I had to. If it hadn’t been the potential danger… then it must have been her memory alone.
My breaths were shallow and ragged as I walked over and opened the closet, staring down at the floorboards. Slowly, I knelt down and moved my hiking boots away from the one board that was loose enough to pry up. My fingers rested along the edge as I debated if I could really do this… if I let myself fall apart for nothing, I didn’t think I would recover this time.
I shook my head again, taking a deep breath. This was my last chance to back out… but I didn’t want to. A small voice in the back of my head- not Rosalie’s, unfortunately- told me to just get it over with. If it did come to nothing, at least I had a few hours with the house to myself.
The board came loose easily. I set it aside and stared into the small opening where I had hidden away everything that reminded me of Rosalie and the rest of her family. On top of the pile, covering everything else, was my favorite green sweater- the same one that Rosalie had worn to lure Victoria away from me. I picked it up and pulled it out from the zip-lock bag I had stuffed it in. I stared at it for a long time before holding it to my chest. Despite spending months under my floor, there was still a faint whiff of her scent on it… or maybe that was just a memory. It was hard to tell what was real lately.
I pulled the sweater over my head and stared down at the shoe box that had been sitting beneath it. I took it out, followed by the photo album I had gotten for my birthday. Setting them aside, I stared down at the stereo that Emmett and Edward had gotten for me. It was lying at the very bottom next to a water pipe. After I’d gone back to school and work, I had been forced to stare at it every day… I never turned it on, but it still drew my eyes every few seconds, sending a dagger into my heart every time.
Unable to stare at it any longer, I had tried to uninstall it myself while my dad was at work. After a few hours of making no progress, Jacob had suddenly shown up in the Green Machine to check on me. He’d found me stabbing at the sides with a screwdriver, tears streaming down my face… He’d calmed me down, brought me inside, and made me drink some water- then, he had gone back out and removed it himself. No questions asked. I never told him how grateful I was… there was no telling how far I would have gone to get it out if he hadn’t turned up. I probably would have mutilated the poor thing. Even now I could see the scratches I had made around the infuriatingly tiny screws.
Sitting with my legs crossed, I stared down at rest of the forbidden objects in front of me. I decided to start slowly- I would only look at the pictures if I had no other option… Already I could barely breathe, and my hands were shaking as they hovered inches from the shoe box. I removed the lid as quickly as I could. When my eyes landed on the contents, the hole in my chest ached more than it had in a long time.
Resting on the very top, was the watch Rosalie had gotten for me to replace my old, defective one from Goodwill… I blinked away a few tears and took it out, running my fingertips along the amber stones. After all this time, it was still ticking. I closed my eyes and listened, taking deep breaths and trying to maintain control. I wondered if Rosalie had heard my old one slowing down, or if she’d noticed that I constantly had to rewind it, or if she just thought I deserved something nicer.
I had to bite my lip as I remembered the day that she had given it to me; The day she’d saved my life in Port Angeles. I forced myself to remember eating mushroom ravioli in that dimly lit restaurant, assuring her that I knew what she was, and that I wasn’t afraid of her… I remembered her letting me ask her all kinds of questions on the way back home, being endlessly patient with me as I rambled… then she’d dropped me off, given me the watch, and told me to stay safe.
‘Are you there?’ I thought. I didn’t expect an answer this early, and I didn’t get one. Forcing down the lump in my throat, I put the watch on my wrist. It felt heavier than I remembered. It was cold, and hard… just like Rosalie’s gentle hands had been when she had held mine…
I bit my lip and moved on, focusing on my goal. My hands landed on a small piece of paper, and I pulled it out. It was a ticket stub from the one cheesy movie we went to go see in town last summer. My heart froze when I looked at the date… today, one year ago. Talk about a cruel coincidence.
This time, a few tears escaped my eyes and started flowing down my cheeks. I remembered that perfect summer… On the few days where the sunlight hadn’t driven us to the safety of our meadow, we had gone out on a few ‘human dates,’ as she’d liked to call them. The movie had been okay- when we’d been paying attention. Mostly we’d sat in the back row, taking advantage of the low lighting…
I set the ticket aside and picked up the black velvet box that held the necklace she had gotten me on my birthday. When I opened the lid, the heart-shaped pendant that matched the amber stones on my watch glistened up at me. I carefully took it out and slipped the silver chain around my neck. It rested heavily against the hollow of my throat. Maybe that was the reason it was suddenly difficult to swallow.
‘Rosalie?’ I thought desperately.
She didn’t answer. My stomach twisted as I stared down at the photo album.
I looked down at my watch. I still had plenty of time. Besides, I was out of options now. I reached out and opened the album. On the first page, Rosalie’s face beamed. The air was pulled from my lungs the longer I stared down at her. My vision began to blur, and I let the tears fall onto the thick paper around the photo.
My memories of her hadn’t been doing her justice. She was beautiful. So much more beautiful than anyone around her- especially me. Plain, human, standing beside her with that dreaded purple envelope in my hand, about to ruin everything…
I clapped my hand over my mouth as a sob threatened to escape. Fighting the urge to throw it out the open window, I turned to the next page. Alice’s candids from the party seemed too happy, considering what had happened just moments later. Emmett stood just behind a stoic Edward, holding two of his fingers behind his head. There was one of Esme serving slices of cake. I’d forgotten how kind and joyful her smile was… There was even one of Jasper, waving politely to the camera from where he was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs. There was a photo of every Cullen except for Carlisle- having arrived after the disaster had occurred. I tried to picture his face, his dark blonde hair that was always perfectly coiffed to one side. I was sure that my shitty human memories weren’t doing him any justice either.
Once I’d run out of photos to stare at, I flipped back to the one of me with Rosalie on the first page. I looked down into her golden eyes, knowing that just a second later they had turned pitch black…
‘Please just say something…’ I begged inside my head. ‘Anything…’
She still didn’t answer. I snapped the album shut and shoved it back inside the box- perhaps with a bit more force than was necessary. Rising to my feet, I scanned the room for something else to try, desperation beginning to take over. I needed something better- a stronger reminder of her than just a photograph and a few trinkets.
An idea presented itself, and I was already in my truck before I had the chance to think it through. I drove as fast as I dared, scanning the road for cop cars hiding around corners. By the time I reached the side-road that was easily missed if you didn’t know where to look, my head was spinning.
The Cullen’s house came into view as I drove along the thin path through the trees. I parked my truck and sat with the engine idling, twisting my necklace in my fingers as I bit my lip. I could just turn around… I should just turn around… but my desire to hear Rosalie’s voice- to have a piece of her for just a moment, even if it wasn’t real- was too much for me to ignore.
I took a shaky breath and stepped out onto the muddy trail. My legs started moving without my permission, marching me up to the front door. My eyes wandered to the empty driveway, to the untrimmed vines crawling up the sides of the house, to the layer of dust and cobwebs on the windows… The house had been forgotten and left behind. It looked haunted. I wondered what Esme would say if she could see the state it was in.
My hand rested on the doorknob for a moment before I turned it and pushed. The door didn’t budge. I jiggled the handle and pushed harder, then felt stupid. It was obviously locked. No amount of arguing with the door was going to magically unlock it. I had to find another way in.
I looked around, then walked over to a window. It too was locked tight. I cupped my hands around my eyes and peered inside- then cursed out loud when I couldn’t see past the thick curtains. I tried every window in the front of the house, but none of them were left unlocked. I couldn’t see why they had bothered to fortify the place- it’s not like anyone in Forks knew where they lived. Their house wasn’t even on the grid.
As I spun on the spot trying to think of something, my eyes landed on a large rock. It was sitting just off the path in the grass. It looked just small enough for me to fit in my fist.
I stepped down and picked it up, staring at it and wondering if I was really going to go this far. It was Esme’s house… she’d designed every piece of it herself. Was I really going to shatter one of her windows?
“Are you going to stop me?” I asked, accidentally speaking out loud. It didn’t matter, though. No one was around to hear me talk to the voice in my head.
Her silence was all the motivation I needed. I walked around to the back of the house, trying to find a window that was less visible, out of respect to Esme. Fortunately, the kitchen door in the back had a window right next to it. I took a deep breath and drew my arm back, trying my best to aim for the middle of the glass.
“Last chance.” I said, preparing to swing my arm forward. “Come out, or the window gets it.”
My only answer was more silence. I planted my feet, grunting as I swung my arm forward and let the rock fly. The sound of the shattering glass made me jump- it had been much louder than I had been expecting. I stood there for a moment, staring at the damage I had just done. Honestly, I was impressed with my aim. I’d hit my target dead-center. I felt a moment of regret before remembering my purpose. I took the cover off of the grill sitting on the back porch and draped it over the windowsill before I climbed over.
My boots crunched on the glass as I stepped into Esme’s otherwise pristine kitchen. Everything looked exactly as I remembered it. If it weren’t for the thick layer of dust on every surface, I might have expected Esme to walk right in, offering me whatever treats she had made that morning… I could almost taste the blueberry scones she would make every Friday, just because she knew they were my favorites.
A lump rose in my throat, and it got hard to breathe. I swallowed, but the effort nearly made me choke. Closing my eyes, I cleared my throat and tried to breathe again. It was easier this time, if not a bit shaky. I reminded myself why I’d come here- why I had to do this.
When I opened my eyes, they landed on the side door that led to the formal dining room. I walked through it, not able to stand still any longer. I looked up at the wall behind Carlisle’s usual seat at the dining table, hoping to see their family portrait- but it was gone. They had taken it with them. I tried to ignore the way my heart sank deeper into the pit of my stomach at its' absence.
I walked through the other side of the dining room and through the small hallway leading to the living room. My breaths became shallow and ragged as I approached the place where it had happened… where Edward had to step in and protect me from the girl I loved. My legs felt heavy, and I leaned against the wall for support. I forced myself to keep moving, concentrating on my footsteps instead of my destination.
The room felt empty. Every piece of furniture had been covered with white sheets. All of the Cullens’ instruments were gone- even Edward’s grand piano. The large glass windows had been covered with thick curtains, and it looked strange to see the once vibrant room covered in so much darkness. My eyes wandered to the floor, where I half-expected to see a dark stain on the white carpet- but it was clean. There was no evidence of what had happened here… and I didn’t know if that made it better or worse.
Not wanting to linger, I turned and headed up the stairs. I couldn’t figure out what was different- until I realized that the shadow box of graduation caps was also missing. The wall was strangely bare without it. I kept my eyes forward as I reached the top step. I turned into the first room I came to. It was Edward’s and Emmett’s. The huge wall of built-in shelves where Edward had stored his never-ending collection of records was completely empty. I remembered the one time he'd shown me every rare album he owned, babbling excitedly about how he'd hunted them down over the decades.
Across the hall was Rosalie’s room… but I couldn’t bring myself to go in yet. I would explore the rest of the house before I had to see it as bare and forgotten as everything else. I headed towards the very end of the hall, to Carlisle’s study. The wooden cross that had once hung in the pulpit of Tobias Cullen’s church was gone, too. For once, the entire study was spotless. I smirked as I remembered Esme telling me that this was the only room in the house that was allowed to be messy.
I took a moment to look through his desk drawers, hoping to find anything he may have left behind- but there was nothing. I moved on through the hall to Alice and Jasper’s room. It was just as empty as the rest of the house, all the furniture covered in linens. My eyes watered as I remembered Alice coming to say goodbye to me… hugging me tight and telling me she was sorry.
I wiped the tears from my cheeks and turned to leave- when my eyes landed on something brightly colored sitting on the bed. It was a purple envelope. It stuck out against the white sheet. On the top, in silver ink, was my name.
I rushed forward and snatched it up, staring at it with wide eyes as my heart raced. It was Alice’s handwriting, alright. I recognized the way she slanted her letters slightly to the right, and the decorative loop she finished the ‘a’ with. As my hands shook, I carefully flipped it over and opened it. Unfolding the piece of paper inside, I read;
‘Bella,
I know you’re going to come here sooner or later… I saw it when we left. I’m so sorry about everything that happened. I know you said that I didn’t have to apologize, but I still feel like I do. For the party, for not telling you we were leaving, all of it…
Edward is the only one who knows I’m leaving this for you, but I’ve blackmailed him into secrecy. I just thought that you deserved more of a goodbye than I was able to give you at the time. You also deserve to know how much we’re all going to miss you… I really got used to the idea of you being my sister. Edward told me that Esme thought of you as her own child ever since she met you. He also said that Carlisle sees much of his younger self in you.
Everyone agreed that leaving was the best thing for you in the long run. I tried to change their minds, but I couldn’t. They told me that I can’t understand what you’d be giving up, and maybe they’re right. I can’t remember being human, so maybe I can’t be objective about leaving you behind.
After the decision was made, I peeked into your future a little bit, just to see if you’d be okay. You will be, eventually. If you’re here reading this, you probably aren’t right now- but I promise there is a future for you without us, Bella. There can be good things ahead for you if you only give them the chance to play out. I know it’s not what either of us really wanted, but it’ll be okay.
I’ll miss you, Bella. Please try to be happy. If not for yourself, then for Charlie. For me. Go live all the human experiences that I’ll never get to have. Do that for me, okay? I’ll be watching your future whenever I can get away with it.
Alice’
Hot tears fell down my face, blurring the elegant script on the page. I couldn’t breathe. The room began to spin. My ears were ringing so loudly that I couldn't hear anything else. I stumbled out into the hall and raced down the stairs, nearly tripping down them in my hurry to get out of the house. I climbed back through the shattered window and ran far into the backyard before I finally collapsed on the ground. Sobs shook my body as I laid in the grass with Alice’s letter clutched against my chest.
It was too much. After finding the house completely empty, I hadn’t expected to find anything left behind. I certainly hadn’t expected to hear anything from any of the Cullens ever again… I pushed myself onto my knees, leaning back on my heels and staring at the letter Alice had left me. The hole in my heart throbbed painfully as I re-read it. As kind as Alice's intentions had been, her letter had made me feel even worse. For the first time, it was dawning on me that I hadn't just lost the love of my life... I had lost a family. Esme had loved me as her own. Carlisle had seen himself in me. Emmett and Alice had accepted me even before I'd decided to become a vampire, and even Edward and I had shared a mutual respect. That family, that life, that future... it was all gone.
My phone rang suddenly, making me jump. I pulled it out to see Leah’s name on the screen. Sniffling and clearing my throat to make sure that I didn’t sound as if I’d just been crying in the woods, I answered and held it up to my ear.
“Hey.” I said, grateful that I sounded normal. “What’s up?”
“I got off work a bit early.” She said. I heard her motorcycle start up as she spoke. “Wanna meet me back at Billy’s now?”
“Yes, please.” I sighed gratefully, heading around the side of the house back to my truck. The last thing I wanted after all this was the next few hours alone with my thoughts. “I can meet you there in a half hour, I went on a few errands.”
“See ya in a bit, then.”
As I drove away, I watched the house fade in my rearview mirror. When it was gone, I allowed a few more tears to flow down my cheeks. |
Bo smiled and laughed easily as Desiree told him about her day as they ate dinner. For nearly three months he'd tutored her in Calculus. She'd flunked the same class the semester before and her adviser had suggested she get a tutor. Bo was a senior in engineering and she was a sophomore in pre-engineering. They couldn't have been more different. He was in the top of his class. She was struggling to make the grade. He was quiet and confident. She was gregarious, but unsure. He was the third generation of his family to go to college. She was the first in her family. He was white. She was black.
Their first meeting had been awkward. Bo tutored as a requirement for an academic honor society he belonged to. He wasn't inept, but neither was he great at making small talk. Desiree was nervous and intimidated. They'd met at the campus library and he'd had her work some problems and then tried to talk her through where she made errors. He wasn't sure she could hack it and she didn't think he wanted to be there. Desiree wasn't sure she wanted to meet him again until the next day in class when her professor gave a pop quiz. She still didn't do well, but she did better thanks to some things he'd shown her. So, she'd called and asked for his help again. He'd agreed and weekly meetings had become routine, along with phone calls for help with homework, and special sessions for test preparation. Slowly, her comprehension and grades had begun to improve and a friendship began to form.
Finals had ended today. Desiree had not only passed, but she'd managed to pull out a B. She was ecstatic. Bo had suggested that they have a celebratory dinner at his apartment and she'd readily agreed. She'd arrived at the appointed hour with fresh bread and a homemade dessert. Bo welcomed her, thanked her for what she'd brought, and tried hard not to stare.
During their study sessions, she'd dressed nicely, but usually conservatively. While it was obvious she was athletic and in good shape, she'd done nothing to show off or accent her body. Tonight, she wore a simple white tank top that looked a size to small and a pair of very short black shorts. She looked stunning.
Desiree had big, dark eyes, high cheekbones, full lips, and a near perfect complexion that was set off by her long, curly hair that fell nearly to the middle of her back. She was only 5'4", and tonight she looked like two thirds of that was leg. Her legs were well-toned and smooth. Her outfit accented an hourglass figure. Her tank top seemed barely capable of holding her breasts and a generous amount of cleavage peaked out of the top. The too-small top also revealed a flat mid-riff and her shorts seemed painted over the swell of her buttocks. With an effort, Bo had torn his eyes from her and made himself a proper host.
He'd made spaghetti and salad and bought a bottle of wine. Both of them ate enthusiastically after having eaten sporadically and poorly over the past week during finals. The conversation that had lacked at the beginning of their association now flowed easily as they worked through second helpings and two-thirds of the wine. When dinner was over, she helped him clean up the dishes. She seemed to be in a flirtatious mood, touching him, winking at him, and giving him ample views of her flesh. He'd rationalized that it was probably the wine and absence of stress after a week that had been filled with it.
They bantered back and forth as she cut them generous pieces of the pie she'd brought and poured up the last of the wine. Now, they settled in front of the TV and popped in a movie. After they finished their dessert, she'd moved close to him and after a moment's hesitation, he'd put his arm around her. Somewhat to Bo's surprise, she'd responded by snuggling up against him. The late hours, the big meal, and the wine now seemed to catch up with Desiree. Bo felt something on his arm and glanced over to see her head nodding. He smiled and watched as her head bobbed and she fought to keep her eyes open. She soon lost the battle and let her head settle against his side. The movie ended and Bo sat for a few minutes admiring the beautiful young woman curled up against him.
He'd noticed from their first tutoring session that she was attractive, but like a good engineer, he'd put aside the distraction and focused on the task at hand. Tonight was the first time he'd allowed himself to look at her as anything other than a student and he had to admit to himself that he found her to be alluring. His mind wandered to what she looked like without clothes and he quickly got a rather painful woody. He shook his head to clear it, realizing that he was also tired. He gently shook Desiree and whispered, "Movie's over." She mumbled something incomprehensible and remained limp. He gently extricated himself and maneuvered her head to one of the throw pillows and her feet onto the couch. She grunted, and then rolled over. Bo smiled, gently stroking her back as he turned off the lights and headed to bed.
Bo awoke with a start several hours later. Groggy from the wine and sleep, it took him a minute to realize that Desiree had come in and lain down beside him. His mind registered it, but he was too tired to care and within seconds he was asleep again.
Hours later, with the morning sun beginning to come through the curtains, Bo slowly awoke again. The first thing that brought him toward consciousness was an erotic dream of Desiree riding his erect cock. He could feel her moving against his erection. As he smiled dreamily, he became aware of the morning light, then of a sweet scent like jasmine. Slowly, he realized that the sensation in his groin wasn't going away. This puzzled him and he opened his eyes and gasped as he discovered that the sensation in his groin was Desiree's hand gently stroking him through his shorts. She leaned over him, still wearing the clothes she'd had on the night before, except very obviously sans her bra. Bo gaped at her, trying to get his mind around what was happening.
"Good morning," she cooed with a smile, "Did you sleep well?"
"Uh-huh," Bo managed to say, "Wha?"
"Shh," she replied, "Don't talk, just enjoy."
With that, she straddled him and began to run her hands slowly over her body. Slowly, she ran her fingers through her long, dark hair, then down her arms and over her breasts. She gently squeezed and kneaded them, arousing her nipples and causing them to poke through the fabric of her top. Her hands continued down her sides, over her waist, then up and down her thighs and between them. Bo couldn't take his eyes off of her and his penis grew harder as his mind ran wild with desire. He lifted his arms to touch her, but she took his hands in hers and gently placed them back on the sheets.
"Not yet," she whispered.
With that, she began to massage and rub his arms and chest, stroking and rubbing gently but firmly. After a few minutes, her hands moved to the hem of her tank top and she began to play with it, twisting and lifting it slowly. Desiree looked into his face, finding him looking at her chest in anticipation. Slowly, she pulled the tank top over her head, shaking her hair to free it. She left her arms above her head for a moment and Bo swallowed hard, staring at her full, firm breasts swaying hypnotically before his eyes.
Desiree saw his expression and smiled as she dropped the shirt and folded her arms under her breasts, pushing them up and making them look even bigger. "Like what you see?" she asked.
All Bo could do was nod. His penis was now stiff as a board and his breathing had quickened noticeably. Desiree reached down and took his hands in hers and placed them on her breasts.
"Ummm," breathed Bo as he began to rub them. Rather than drop her hands, Desiree joined him in rubbing and kneading her breasts. They felt good in his hands and he loved the feeling of her large, erect nipples against his palms and the sight of both of their hands rubbing her. After a few minutes, she leaned forward until her breasts were only inches from his face. Bo looked up and Desiree slowly, erotically licked her lips and smiled. Bo took the hint and began to lick and suck her left nipple. She sighed softly and cupped his head as he ministered to her, gently at first and then with more urgency. She moaned softly, then gently pushed his head back and placed her other breast in front of him. He took it and began to nibble and suck on it as Desiree murmured, "That's it baby."
After a moment, Desiree gently pushed back and moved off of him, kneeling just out of his reach on the bed. His erection now pointed almost straight up, making a large tent in his shorts. "I bet that's uncomfortable," she said, pointing at his crotch.
"It is," he grunted.
She reached over and slowly stroked it again, making him shiver. "I wonder what we can do about it?" she asked with a devilish look on her face. With that she slid off the end of the bed and stood there looking at him. His eyes were locked on her and she looked down at her shorts, then back at him as her fingers slowly unbuttoned and unzipped them. Bo licked his lips and unconsciously put his hand inside his shorts to rub his aching penis. She saw and giggled, then turned away from him.
At first, he wasn't sure what she was doing. Then her hands moved to her sides and she slowly rolled her shorts and panties over her hips, moving them from side to side slowly as she worked the shorts down. Once they cleared her hips, rather than let them drop, she pulled them down, slowly bending at the waist until her hands touched the floor. Bo moaned at the sight before his eyes. Desiree's full, round bottom, fully exposed before him, was the most sensuous thing he'd ever seen. She stood and stepped out of her shorts, then slowly pivoted to face him.
"You're beautiful," he rasped, his tongue thick with lust.
"Thank you," Desiree said coyly, letting her hands move over her body, knowing his eyes were following them. She knelt on the bed between his legs and took the hem of his shorts in her fingers. "Raise your hips," she quietly commanded. Bo complied and she gently pulled his shorts down to his knees, freeing his erection. She reached down and lightly ran her nails from his balls to just below the head of his penis and back, watching it jerk at her touch. Next, she took the shaft in her hand and slowly jacked it up and down several times, watching his eyes flutter and hearing him gasp with pleasure. Desiree stepped off the bed and pulled his shorts all the way off his legs.
"Now," she said, "let's see what we can do to help you with that," pointing again to his engorged penis. She knelt between his legs and began to rub and massage his thighs, moving her hands slowly upward from his knees toward his groin. As her hands approached his groin, Bo closed his eyes in anticipation. Desiree ran her fingers through his thick, dark pubic hair, then underneath to massage his balls. She rubbed and scratched his scrotum lightly with one hand as the other gently jacked his shaft. Bo sighed softly, his breathing ragged and shallow.
Desiree smiled as she saw his eyes were still closed and bent her head quickly and took a quick suck on the head of his penis. Bo's eyes' flew open and he moaned loudly. She giggled softly, watching his face as she let her tongue move over his head. His eyes were fixed and glazed, watching as she lightly sucked his head. His right hand gently stroked her long hair as she moved her mouth up and down his shaft, taking more into her mouth with each dip of her head.
"Oh," he moaned. "Des that feels so good!"
She continued to bob her head up and down gently squeezing on his shaft, until she felt him begin to tense. She stopped, watching his face and whispering urgently, "Don't cum yet! Hang on and you'll be glad."
Bo wanted nothing more than to empty his throbbing penis into Desiree's mouth. With effort, he commanded his mind to move to math theory, a trick that had helped him keep control before. It worked, and within a minute or two, he was in some semblance of control again. When he opened his eyes, Desiree was still sitting between his legs, and now she had a bottle of something in her hand.
"Under control?" she asked with a grin.
"Yeah," he said, "Barely. What's that you've got?"
"You'll see," she said, opening it and pouring some into her hand. By the scent, he immediately knew it was baby oil and his slightly less rigid penis jerked as his mind went to what she would do with it. What she did matched his wildest dreams. She took the oil she'd poured in her hands and applied it to her cleavage. Then she turned the bottle up and let a generous amount dribble over her breasts. Bo watched transfixed as the oil ran all over her breasts and dripped onto her thighs and belly. She capped the bottle and set it aside. Then, she began to knead her breasts with both hands. She closed her eyes and let her head loll from side to side as she massaged herself.
She rubbed the oil all over her breasts until they glistened. Then she began to rub and tug on her nipples, moaning softly as she did. Bo's lust for her was intense and he was fighting a losing battle not to stroke his throbbing penis again. Desiree opened her eyes and saw his hand moving back toward his crotch and shook her head. "No, no," she scolded playfully, pushing his hand away, "I'm going to take care of that for you baby. Trust me."
Bo nodded and watched as she took the bottle of oil again, poured a small amount in her hand and reached for his penis. He gasped as she ran her oily hand from the base of his balls to his head and back three times, covering his shaft with the oil and making it glisten as it throbbed.
"Close your eyes," she hissed erotically. Bo complied, not sure what to expect. Desiree moved up slightly and bent, cupping his shaft between her full, slick breasts. She began to move up and down, rubbing his shaft between her soft tits.
"Oh my god," he groaned as she titty fucked him. He opened his eyes and watched, his eyes glazed, as she moved up and down on his shaft. "God yes," he hissed, his hands balling up the sheets and his hips bucking upward matching her rhythm. Again, she gauged his arousal and when she felt he could take no more, she slowly sat up, grinning.
"Hold it," she said softly, "We're getting closer baby, but hold on just a little longer."
"Tease," he moaned, "fuckin' tease!" He struggled mightily biting his tongue and forcing his mind to calculate batting averages and work long division. It took all the will power he could muster, but he again managed to keep from cumming.
"You have remarkable control baby," said Des, smiling down at him with a twinkle in her eye. He noticed that her hand was at her crotch, rubbing lightly.
"Whatcha' doin'?" he asked, gesturing at her hand.
"Well," she said, "you're not the only one who's aroused. Feelin' your cock all over me and watching you react has got me all hot." She gave him a look that would've aroused a statue and whispered, "Now I'm going ride you home baby."
With that, she straddled him and leaned down to kiss him. She kissed him passionately, pressing her breasts to his chest and beginning to grind her crotch against his. Bo responded with equal fervor, entwining his tongue with hers, running his hands over her body, and grinding back against her. He could feel the moist heat of her pussy against his penis and he ground more firmly against her. His hands went to her hips and her bottom, rubbing, kneading, and squeezing them as they ground together. Desiree began to sigh and moan softly through their kisses as their sexes continued to grind.
With a start, she pushed up, leveraging herself against his chest with one hand and taking his penis in the other. They both watched as she placed his penis at the entrance to her pussy. She leaned back, placing her hands on either side of his thighs and slowly worked pussy up and then down, steadily sinking lower. The sight of his rigid cock impaling her beautiful ebony pussy was a sight he would never forget.
Desiree sat up, and he put his hands on her hips to steady her. She grabbed the headboard and used it to move herself slowly up and down. Bo met her movements with his own thrusts, watching mesmerized as his penis pushed in and out of her pussy. Des' movements increased in tempo and her breathing quickened. The bed began to squeak and the liquid sounds of their coital movements became louder.
Des increased the tempo again, moaning and sighing lustily. Bo's eyes were drawn to her breast as they began to sway and bounce with their movements. Desiree pushed back from the headboard, running her fingers through her long hair and using only her legs to bounce up and down on his throbbing penis. Bo's hands fondled and squeezed her bottom, helped steady her as she bounced up and down.
Bo was panting hard, as was Desiree. She threw her head back and moaned loudly, "Yes! Yes, baby!" Bo's cock was throbbing and tingling and he felt her pussy began to squeeze it. Desiree's eyes closed and her mouth moved, but no sound came out. She slammed her pussy up and down on his cock even faster and Bo knew he was close and that there would be no stopping it this time. All of a sudden Desiree's body froze, her eyes and mouth flew open, and her pussy squeezed hard. She stayed frozen like that for several seconds and then taking a deep breath screamed in ecstasy and slammed her pussy against him as fast as she could. The sound of her screams, the sight of her bouncing breasts, and the feel of her hot pussy pulsing on his cock all drove Bo over the edge in one explosive moment.
He clutched Desiree's bottom and arched his back as the cum that had been boiling in his balls erupted. He thrust upward again and again as stream after stream of his cum shot into her pulsing pussy. Their moans and cries mingled as they both found release. After several long, sweet, moments, their climaxes crested and they both slowly came down from their erotic highs. Desiree was weaving on top of him like a drunk, her eyes closed, and a big smile on her face. Bo's cock was still lightly flexing inside her as his hands moved over her. After several minutes, she collapsed on his chest with a chuckle and a long sigh. He stroked her lustrous hair and looked at her face, then gently kissed her. She returned it in kind. He started to speak, but she placed a finger on his lips and whispered, "Later."
|
techno knew most of dream’s family, if not well at least he’d spoken to them before. it started with tapl, then fruitberries, two older cousins of dream’s, and carried on. he’d played on the same team as boffy during tournaments before, and when he first met dream he met drista as well.
it was strange, knowing that dream would willingly abandon his siblings, because even if he wasn’t around wilbur or tommy often he stil cared about them, to the extent where he would die for them. dream, on the other hand, seemed to not even care if they died, given how drista and boffy both appeared to be self sustaining beings with barely any morals.
when tommy appeared in his basement with another person, his first instinct was to fight, but he quickly found that he didn’t recognize the scent. at least, it wasn’t dream’s, and he watched as tommy tried to hide him. he wouldn’t have sent them back into the wilderness no matter what, regardless of what tommy thought, because he wasn’t a monster, he wasn’t going to send two teenagers out to their deaths willingly.
tommy looked starved, as though dream hadn’t been allowing him to eat. techno wouldn’t have been surprised. he made stew, it was still one of his favorite foods, and tommy had always loved phil’s recipe. besides, it wasn’t like tommy could eat a steak at the moment—he would at best vomit it back up.
boffy wasn’t much different. it was clear that he was used to it, and that he’d been at it for a shorter (or longer) amount of time. he looked far from clean—black scars that marred his face looked as if they were healed incorrectly, he had a larger beard than techno—but he seemed to be okay, so techno had less on his conscious.
if tommy hadn’t told him long ago that he was friends with dream’s brother he honestly wouldn’t have known that the brunette was related to his rival. and sure, sometimes tommy chose his friends poorly, but techno could tell that, despite his family, boffy was sure as all hell loyal.
it wasn’t that tommy didn’t trust him that made techno feel bad though—it was because boffy did. undoubtedly his brother would want to leave the moment they got the chance, because notch forbid that he tear down the thing that was tearing people apart. he doubted the blonde would ever forgive him.
oh well. he could work with that.
first things first; tommy didn't sleep around him. he kept muttering about how there were monsters nearby, even while techno made sure to cover his undead butlers and let edward out to explore as he pleased, as well as cured the zombie villager. he wasn’t sure if it was because of him being half mob or something else.
after the third day boffy dragged him out to the forest for a few minutes before they walked back, and tommy was asleep.
“it’s probably me,” boffy said. “dream’s a monster to him now, and i’m the same exact species.”
“makes sense,” techno nodded. “you’re nocturnal?”
“don’t need sleep,” the brunette replied, before walking back outside to go do whatever. techno didn’t stop him.
the second thing was that boffy was classified as a half god. even as the villagers referred to both him and techno as hybrids, which wasn’t entirely inaccurate on techno’s part, they still called him admin every now and then, strangely enough. it reminded him of wilbur and tommy, how they’d open doors to other dimensions just to play around with being god for once, and always his family members would be lesser admins.
the third thing was that dream was on his doorstep and asking to come in. boffy tossed himself into a chest while tommy was shoved into a crate.
“so tommy left,” dream said, to start. “he didn’t die there, i want you to know, but i don’t know where he is now.”
“okay, so tommy ran off,” techno responded, pinching the bridge of his nose. “what else is there?”
“i’m not concerned about tommy, to be honest,” dream said. “so long as he doesn’t return, everything’s fine, and if he does he will be dead. i have another problem though.”
“yes?” techno asked.
“both of my siblings are somewhere on this server and i can’t track them.”
dream can’t track boffy or drista. and drista was lost somewhere that they didn’t know. wonderful. another teenager running about causing chaos they didn’t need. at least he confirmed that drista could summon things when he first met her, particularly off limits objects such as end items or bedrock.
“both?” techno questioned, keeping up the act. dream nodded. “i’ll keep an eye out, i guess.”
technoliar?
dre!
oh no oh no
E
liarblade?
crab rave
dream!
E
:0
when dream left techno found that boffy had gotten stuck between two chests and tommy had eaten all of his gapples that he’d stolen. he definitely was going to hide his gapples better, and he unwedged the chests, which were heavy and full of supplies, so that boffy could get through.
a week later boffy went out and didn’t reappear. as soon as techno realized that he brought tommy out to look for dogs, which tommy gladly did, despite the fact that he asked where the brunette was multiple times. when they came back he still hadn’t returned.
tommy stayed in his little room after techno told him that it was too dangerous to go looking for the half god in the blizzard that had struck. he wasn’t sure if it was just a coincidence or something that was intentional.
three days later boffy returned, followed by a masked girl—
drista. he went looking for his sister, and he found her. she said hi to techno, taking a bite out of a chorus fruit and slightly phasing in and out of sight, before heading down to the basement as if she’d lived there her entire life and started talking to tommy.
“if dream finds out that any of you are here we’re dead,” techno said, loud enough for all three teenagers to hear while the four of them sat next to the fire. boffy scoffed, drista laughed, and tommy nodded.
“if he kills any of us it’s over for him,” drista returned, before she went back to playing with what looked to be an end rod and multiple blocks of what techno thought was purpur. tommy was sitting close to the fire reading a map, watching the colored dots move as the sandy colors shifted around them. boffy was the furthest away, crafting a mask out of spruce wood and enchanting it with runes on the back.
it was strange. three teenagers, all three of them who shouldn’t have to be doing what they were doing, all existing
happily
(was that the right word? techno didn’t know) in the presence of a retired god while hiding from an omnipotent tyrant.
one morning techno woke up and all three of them were gone. there was nothing left behind that said what happened, and his first instinct screamed dream, that the blonde had finally found them. he threw on his armor quickly, tossing his blue gown over it and tying it across his belt with a silver ribbon to prevent himself from tripping, grabbing his sword and running out into the cold.
he searched about for hours, before finally deciding to head back home, a cold feeling building up in his chest. when he returned ghostbur was there, he said hello, before moving to enter—
“stop right there technoblade,” quackity said, and he turned to face the winged man, eyes widening when he saw three other people next to him. fundy, tubbo, and ranboo. “you’re coming with us.”
“or what?” techno asked, keeping his calm. how did they find him? he hadn’t even given phil the compass that lead to his house yet, it was still sitting somewhere in his echest.
“or we kill your horse,” fundy said quickly, motioning to carl. his eyes widened, and he noticeably stiffened.
technobrave
techno danger!
E
E
e
quackity oh no
technoliar?
technolate
blood for the blood god?
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD.
techno didn’t give in to the voices. he followed their orders, tossing his weapons and the stuff he had on himself to them. ranboo was made to carry the items, and, despite the fact that he was part of a group that was probably going to try to kill him, he felt bad for the boy. he looked so tired, so much more than usual.
the news of tommy’s ‘suicide’ had gotten around, as it seemed. tubbo looked to be angry, as if it were techno’s fault that he believed the blonde had died. fundy and quackity were the same way.
techno allowed them to escort him to lmanburg, allowed them to lock him in the metal cage, allowed them to pull the lever to kill him. the anvil was close to his face after a few moments, and he closed his eyes, but the impact never came, and as he opened his eyes again he realized that there was a brawl going on, and the anvil had smashed the front of the cage.
outside, punz was lighting tnt around the docks, while quackity tried to stop the lit fuze from reaching the explosives. tubbo as being attacked by drista, who placed bedrock over his feet to stick his shoes to the ground as he swung at her with a stick. ranboo was fighting against fundy, both bashing their axes together with loud clanging rings.
dream was there. he was standing next to techno’s cage, and it was easy to tell that the blonde was glaring at him.
“you must think you’re really smart, techno.” dream said, sighing. “and, granted, you are, but did you think you could outsmart me?”
“i didn’t think i could,” techno said. “but i guess i was wrong.”
and suddenly tommy came out of nowhere with the axe of peace and he sliced dream between his shoulder and his neck, a clean cut which slammed through his collarbone and everything between. techno watched as blood splattered all over tommy’s arm, but it wasn’t normal blood, it was black and it quickly was burning through the axe of peace—
wither blood. of course dream would do that.
techno jumped the bars quickly, pushing tommy away from the oozing blood as dream let out a sick wheeze. he turned back and saw that the blonde had already recovered from the what would’ve been fatal blow, the axe of peace nothing more than a handle and melted netherite on the ground.
“
tommy, why would you do that?
”
dream rose his hand, and the substance on the ground moved towards tommy, fast enough that even techno couldn’t outrun it, but it quickly froze as lightning struck behind the blonde. he turned around to face boffy, who was wielding what looked to be an enchanted blaze rod. techno didn’t even want to know.
“better question, why the fuck are you doing this?” boffy questioned, motioning around, before he blocked a blow from dream’s axe.
the brunette sounded hurt, way more hurt than usual, and as dream swung again he saw boffy hesitate before blocking the blow again, lightning striking dream. it didn’t harm him, of course, but it stunned him for long enough that techno was able to kick at his side and knock him to the ground, before grabbing tommy’s arm and throwing him away from the half god.
dream quickly recovered, throwing his axe at techno and barely missing. he kicked backwards, hitting boffy in the leg and knocking him down, before he reached out and his axe returned to him. techno was unarmed, with no weapon to fight against dream with, almost like it made a difference.
dream drew the axe down, hesitating for a noticeable moment before slamming it down. it sliced boffy’s new mask in half, and from what techno could tell it tore his face as well, adding to the scars. the brunette’s eyes widened, before he swung the blaze rod and more lightning struck dream.
techno took the chance and slammed himself against dream once more, knocking him down. he kicked the axe away from the blonde, watching as boffy grabbed it and held it away, before placing his hoof on his back to stop him from getting up. the blonde turned to him, and for a moment he saw his face, eyes red and full of fury that techno recognized.
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD?
“do we have anything to restrain him with?” techno questioned, his head snapping to boffy. the brunette nodded, quickly grabbing a bent bar from the cage and bending it further until it resembled cuffs, before holding it in the water and pulling it out. he tossed it to techno, who promptly wrapped it around dream’s arms, binding them.
the fighting slowed. punz had run out of explosives, and quackity’s wings were charred on the bottoms, gold mingling poorly with dark brown and black. tubbo had stopped fighting drista in turn for hugging tommy, and fundy was helping ranboo get his leg out of the water and limp over to tommy, who he promptly hugged as well. it stopped. everything was calm.
except for one. dream.
“you missed the point,” dream said. “tommy is tearing everyone apart. he needs to die.”
“people tear each other apart,” boffy replied, lowly. “tommy is a person. you just want power.”
dream attempted to free himself from the bar. he failed.
an hour later the entire group, even though they had just been trying to kill each other earlier, was standing next to one another, outside of the entry portal to the server. dream was sitting behind them all, so as to prevent him from escaping.
“exile him?”
“we can kill him!”
“quackity, no, we can’t—,”
“we’ll all disappear with this server if he dies.”
“so exile.”
“yep.”
techno saw boffy holding a pouch of some strange powder, glowing orange in his hands, too bright to be blaze powder. he tossed a handful towards the portal, and the purple swirls changed to white, and everyone stared in awe.
all except tommy.
“boffy, are you sure—,” tommy began. “i-i mean, you know, nobody deserves
that
.”
“
dream
does,” boffy said. “i spent eight years in there, and it’s survivable. there isn’t any other way.”
“what’s he talking about?” ranboo asked.
“rlcraft,” tommy said. “boffy, if he dies in there—,”
“so long as he isn’t in any of his own servers when he dies they don’t shut down,” boffy said. “besides, you respawn in rlcraft.”
so they brought dream towards the portal, and moments before pushing him in drista released his arms from the bar. she’d lost her frowny face mask at some point, and was now grinning openly at her brother.
“bye, bye, dream,” she said, before the portal whooshed, and he was gone. it turned back to purple moments later, to secure the tyrant’s fate.
———
drista felt at home. even if her home had been compromised as a child, due to her eldest brother, she still felt like home was where it was.
home was sitting next to boffy as they both made enchanting runes on random things just to see what they did, sometimes they would be spectacular and sometimes they would be dumb.
home was chasing tommy around an arena with a wooden sword and laughing freely without dream on her shoulders about her stance.
home was helping tubbo with his music and builds, gathering materials and building stupid things around him out of forbidden materials just to get yelled at have have to remive them.
home was helping ranboo remember things, and watching as he tried to do funny things in the kitchen such as bake a bowl of creeper crunch.
it didn’t matter where. drista always knew that the people were what made home. dream had been home once, before he’d gone mad with power, and now dream was the old house that she used to live in, burnt to a crisp by angered cow cultist villagers on the night that boffy disappeared.
so long as her ‘family’ was somewhere, that place was home.
and yes, that included them running away from giant ravagers because tommy accidentally summoned raiders on a village. it also included helping boffy commit mass acts of terrorism, helping ranboo keep the spaghetti out of every dish he made, and keeping tubbo from joining in on the arson.
sometimes it didn’t work. all five of them woke up and chose arson, and that’s what made home for drista. just true chaos in the name of being careless.
|
Mr Bennet received his children with his customary dry wit, remarking on the amazing benefits to the health that a little holiday could have.
'Although I never knew Hertfordshire was such a fashionable destiny, I am glad I need not to send you further than three miles to restore you to good health. You must tell me in what aspect of the property Netherfield's marvellous healing powers reside, as being landlocked, it cannot be on the sea water.' He paused, Edward guessed, for effect, and afterwards added with a pensive tone, 'Perhaps it has nothing to do with the estate itself, and more with its inhabitants.'
Edward was sure his father would have been surprised if he could have perceived how his raillery, patently directed at Jane, affected him. It took all his self control to avoid blushing.
Despite Mr Bennet's dry tone, his eyes were worried and his hands gentle when he welcomed his daughter. Edward could not avoid noting that he looked her over seriously, as if searching for hints of fever and weakness.
'I would not try to organize a holiday resort around Netherfield, my father; if indeed we have come back in good health, it is because neither of us was really out of it. And as for its inhabitants, in their favour I can say that they did keep us well entertained.'
'Never out of health! But I am sure I received a note in your hand that said Jane had a fever, should I look for it? Do you suppose my old mind led me astray and I imagined it all?'
Jane looked at Edward reproachfully and went to their father, 'You know how Edward is; he preoccupies himself needlessly. If he was worried for me, I can assure you there was no need. I had only a little trifling cold.'
'Mmph, I have not known your brother to excessively worry about anything in his life. Much like his father, I should say. But if you say you are well, my dear, then I suppose I must believe you. Go on with you and rest. I must steal Edward; he has played the gentleman of leisure, with neighbours keeping him so well entertained, long enough—five long days—and there is business that needs attending to in the library.'
Edward was soon absorbed by both the usual matters of the estate and the not so usual ones of breaking the entail. The time had come for them to break it, now that Edward was very nearly old enough.
The daylight hours were spent locked inside the library with his father, and if Edward's mind tended to wander away from the curly script and ridiculous vagaries of the common recovery parchment to even more puzzling subjects that resided three miles away, he thought he hid it successfully.
Three days after their sojourn in Netherfield, Edward was again with his father finishing papers. All the pertinent decisions regarding the entail were soon made, including who was going to be the trustee in charge and who would be the attorneys who would represent both of them in the Common Pleas Court.
Although he had been looking forward to witness what he considered one of the greatest farces in modern law, Edward let himself be convinced not to go. If his father was surprised he was so easily persuaded, he did not show it, and Edward himself preferred not to dwell on the reasons that kept him home.
In the aftermath of that discussion, Edward looked at the final version of the document that would begin it all. The deed looked important and he was well pleased with the elegant hand he had been able to use in drafting it. He had not always had as much patience with such pursuits. He raised his gaze and encountered that of his father, who beheld him from across the desk with eyes that spoke of pride and sadness, although the latter, Edward could not account for.
'It is done,' he said, lacking any other subject. 'We can send this today and put the process in motion. Have you thought about what we must do once the land reverts into fee simple?'
Mr Bennet sighed and looked away, taking some time to compose his response; Edward was already fidgeting when it finally came.
'Indeed, I have done so.'
He said nothing more, and Edward could not restrain himself. 'May I ask, my father, what have you resolved?'
'You know me, Edward, resolve is not one of my strengths; I have thought long and hard about it, and resolved nothing.'
His attempt at a self-effacing joke fell flat in the silent room.
After a while of tense silence, Mr Bennet began again, 'I have thought that it may be wise to settle the whole on the girls; a suitable portion to enlarge Jane's dowry, if she has not married by then, and the rest on Elizabeth.'
Edward started, 'Father!'
'Indeed, Edward, you must not speak in haste. Nothing is decided. I am only considering the possibilities.'
'Have I done anything to displease you?'
'You know very well you have not. I just think that Elizabeth has been forgotten long enough by this family.'
Edward looked away for a moment. He had trouble finding his voice, but when he did, he was surprised at how calm it sounded. 'And what if she wants to be forgotten?'
'She does not know what she is about, then. I have made enough mistakes in my lifetime, and the only thing I am proud of is that I have left a way for her to return to us. We have spoken of this several times already; you must trust me that in the future you will change your mind.'
Edward could not keep bitterness from tainting his words, 'Indeed, I will do so once you trust me enough to know my own mind.'
'I trust you, Edward, can you not sense it? It is not a matter of trust. When your mother died….You have no way to know what it is to live without love, but if you persist in following this path, you will know it soon enough. I have kept you apart from your given destiny; someday, you will resent me for it.'
His father's voice was as warm and kind as it had ever been.
'There is no given destiny; it is only what we do with ourselves that matters. Or have I not served you well? Is that why you wish to settle upon your daughters?'
'My child, must you wilfully misunderstand my every word? It is I who has served you ill!'
'But I do not see it; I am as happy in my life as any other gentleman living in the King's Lands. If you will not trust my assurances, then where is the trust you speak of? And as for love, why should you worry on that account? It is not as though I intend to marry.'
Mr Bennet observed Edward for a few moments and then sighed in a defeated fashion before speaking.
'Very well, then, you must not worry. I will not change my will any time soon, and as I do not expect to die in the near future, we can defer this conversation to a more appropriate time. Now, off you go, enjoy the day, and take your sister outdoors for a while; so much time cooped in is beginning to show on her complexion.'
Mr Bennet's whole stance was dismissive, and Edward knew his father well enough to know that he would not be able to pry another word from his lips on the subject. His temporary victory did not appease him, as he well knew his father would try to carry his point to the end, and so it was with a downcast mien that Edward went looking for Jane.
He found her in the drawing room, and was about to propose an excursion outside when Darcy and Bingley were announced and brought in. Jane's change of countenance was obvious to Edward, her whole face lighting up with joy at Bingley's clearly besotted looks.
Edward could only be glad at their coming, as it brought happiness to his sister and a welcome distraction to himself. Promptly, before the gentlemen took their seats, Edward proposed going out. He was wild for fresh air and the sun on his face.
Bingley was the first to immediately acquiesce. Edward knew it was because it was the only arrangement that promised a modicum of privacy, but he did not care. Indeed, he was of the same mind, and he did not hesitate to suggest Oakham Mount—the longest walk without going into the village—as their destination. They walked out, and were soon separated into two couples: Edward and Darcy in front and Jane and Bingley lagging behind.
Initially, there was silence between Darcy and Edward, although the latter thought that it was the most comfortable silence that had ever reigned between them. It was Darcy who broke it, hesitantly. 'How is your father? Is he in good health?'
'He is; he remains in his library, which can only mean he is enjoying incomparable health,' said Edward with forced joviality.
'Miss Bennet appears to be in good health also. I trust there was no set back in her illness?'
Now Edward could be honestly amused, and recover his usual merriment; Darcy's strict civility in awkward moments was indeed diverting. He had to keep his answer short to avoid laughing. 'As you see.'
For a few moments they were silent again, Darcy apparently at a loss of subjects, and then Edward, his good humour restored, decided to help the conversation along. 'I am glad you have come to call on us; I cannot claim an interest equivalent to Jane's in the visit, but I do appreciate it.'
'Bingley has been buried in estate matters; Netherfield is not in as good condition as could be wished.'
'You need not to use Bingley as an excuse to visit me, you know,' said Edward looking sideways at Darcy. 'I can honestly say that I enjoy your company. I am a very dull fellow without anybody to tease; Jane has become too easy a target.'
'We, too, have been extremely bored without you,' said Darcy with a slight smile, and to Edward's frustration, changed the subject, 'although Miss Bingley denies it; indeed, she talks about how glad she is you are gone almost every day! I do think the lady doth protest too much.'
Edward hid his smile; indeed it appeared that way, but he should not laugh at it.
'I hope she does not regret having made our acquaintance, or at the very least, that she values my sister's friendship,' he said, trying to feign nonchalance.
'She has not said as much; but she laments that "dear Miss Bennet" has such a disagreeable brother.'
Edward made a gesture towards the direction the two lovers should be, and said, 'I think she will have to learn to endure me, difficult as I may be. I am not as disagreeable as all that, am I, Darcy?'
'You are not as disagreeable as all that, no,' Darcy answered, raising a eyebrow at him in mocking strictness.
'Ah, I see now what you are about, but I will not fall for it,' said Edward with a twisted smile. 'I will not ask at what exact measure I am disagreeable, I am determined.'
'Very well then, if you need reassurance behind that mocking gaze; you are not disagreeable at all. Are you resigned then, to make of Bingley your brother? That will make Miss Bingley your sister in a way, and if she is not disagreeable, she is not exactly agreeable to you either.'
'I am sure that no other man besides Bingley will do for Jane; she has not spoken about it with me, but I know her well enough. I suppose that if she must marry, she cannot do better than Bingley.'
'If she must marry? Are you perchance against marriage? I would not have guessed it, by your pushing the matter with me.'
'For men, I am sure it is all the same; life changes very little. We are our own masters, before or after. Women, on the other hand, never govern themselves unless they have money and are particularly lacking in husbands and fathers; and even then, they are more constrained by propriety.'
'Do you not approve?' Darcy's voice was completely neutral, and once Edward looked, his face did not offer him any hint of his feelings on the matter either.
He decided to answer truthfully.
'I do not. I would not wish to be a woman under those circumstances; would you? To be forever at the mercy of the decisions of others?'
'It is thought that they need the guidance, while we men do not.'
Edward, thoroughly tired of conventional wisdoms and Darcy's neutral responses, spoke more forcefully than what he would have liked, saying–
'You are an intelligent man, Darcy, and you have a sister; you must know that it is only education that makes the sexes' minds different from one another. How can women be fully rational if the only thing expected from them is to play and sing, draw and speak the modern languages, like trained animals taught to entertain to catch a husband? Their education does not equip them for anything else.'
'You feel strongly about this?' said Darcy; and it was more a statement than a question.
Edward vacillated only a second before answering, 'Who in their right mind would not?'
He knew he was being insulting, and argumentative, and he regretted having put Darcy in an uncomfortable position. Trying to lighten the mood, he said, 'One does worry about one's sisters—and daughters, if my father's reaction to Jane's illness is any indication. He would go to any length to provide for his daughters' happiness.'
'Indeed,' said Darcy, and then he returned to the previous subject. 'And you have been reading Wollstonecraft, I can tell. There is nothing like a good dry tome to inflame the righteous feelings.'
'You can tell? Have you read her?'
Darcy caught the incredulity of his tone, and looked at him sharply while answering. 'Why would you think I have not?'
'You did not agree with her, then.'
'Again, you are jumping to conclusions. I have read her, and I find myself of the same mind on many subjects.'
'You do?' Edward was astonished. Astonished and relieved, if he was honest with himself.
'Not in all subjects,' responded Darcy with a significant look, 'and my sister does need my guidance more often than not.'
'Your sister is very young, is she not? Are you saying that at her age, you were already the wise man I have before me?' asked Edward slyly.
'You must take care, my friend; you sound remarkably like Miss Bingley.'
Quicker to feign offence than to actually take it, Edward answered, 'Even if we may say similar things, I am sure we never do it with the same feelings!'
'Indeed, I can readily believe it; nonetheless, it would behove you to take care all the same. The shock would surely kill that fine lady if she could hear you—she is convinced you could never agree on anything.'
'She may very well believe it! And I see you have evaded my earlier question. You are indeed very sly, Darcy. Were you all-knowing when you were your sister's age?'
'I am sure I am not all-knowing now.'
Seeing that Darcy kept avoiding a direct answer, Edward decided to let the matter drop. He smiled and said, 'I am sure that to someone, whom I shall not name again, you certainly seem so.'
Darcy only raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, having heard as much from him before, and let himself be swayed into another topic. |
Chapter 18:
“-A festival?” Clarke asked, glancing between Indra and Lexa. “Roan is holding a festival?”
The knock on the door that evening shattered what temporary peace the two women shared that day. Their time together had felt like a mixed blessing; on one hand Clarke cherished each quiet minute spent with Lexa, but there was a lingering unease that tarnished even their most peaceful moments. With each passing second the radiation crept closer to their doorstep, and the threat of war weighed heavy between them. Indra returned to them late that evening, the burden of her exhaustion etched across her weary face. The three now stood together in the dim light of the cabin with Indra’s announcement hanging thickly in the air.
“Yes, to welcome the clan delegations to Polis. King Roan wants to demonstrate the prosperity and strength of the capitol before the council convenes.” Indra sat on the floor and rested her back against the wall. Her lip curled into a snarl. “I’ve been running around all day preparing for these ridiculous festivities. I’m a general, not a goddamn errand servant.”
Lexa crossed her arms and peered out the cabin window at the amber glow radiating into the night. The city was very much awake and alive, still preparing for the next day’s events. “It’s just a show for both the people and his brother, Tiberius.”
“Roan is the Steward of the coalition; his position already offers him political leverage. Why would he need to put on a show for them?” Clarke asked, turning her gaze to Lexa.
“These are uncertain times, Clarke. Roan knows that he is being pressured into a war with Skaikru and knows that the radiation is not something that will pass by, as many are beginning to believe. Tiberius holds considerable power in Azgeda, and I’m more than certain that Roan is uncomfortable with his presence here in Polis. With this festival, he is intending to project a show of power to those who threaten him the most- the council leaders, Tiberius, and even the people of Polis.”
“Should the council truly decide to declare war on Skaikru, Roan will need the support of the people. But the people are still tired from their struggle against A.L.I.E., they will need convincing,” Indra said as she rubbed her tired, aching eyes.
Clarke scoffed. “So he will win them over with a party. Lovely…”
“And Roan won’t even speak or meet with us,” Lexa’s anger rose to a growl as she spoke.
“Well then,” a grin grew across Clarke’s lips as her gaze met with Lexa. “We’ll have to make him listen to us, won’t we?”
------
Children darted past Clarke and Lexa as they pushed through the crowded Polis streets. A tattered shawl shrouded Lexa’s face from curious glances as they meandered closer to the main arena. The streets were lined with vendors and tables selling trinkets, jewelry, and various kinds of food to the throngs of cheerful Polis citizens. Clarke felt her stomach growl as the warm, sweet aroma of cooked meat drifted past her nose.
“Roan will be furious,” Lexa stated, tugging the shawl tighter across her face.
Clarke, the crimson commander’s cloak draped over her hair, shrugged with a grin. “Good, that’s the point. Go big, right?” She turned to meet Lexa’s gaze and saw in her emerald eyes that she was smiling.
The arena where Lexa speared Queen Nia and Jaha was executed now hosted the festival’s main events. As Clarke and Lexa pushed through the crowd to the roped-off boundary, they observed Roan and the other councilmembers, as well as Indra, seated on the stage. Their respective clan symbols hung proudly over each seated member except for Skaikru, whose chair remained vacant. Crowds outside the main arena were jeering as a jester, dressed as a Skaikru guard, stumbled around the arena like a fool, a heroic Trikru warrior close behind kicking and beating him.
Clarke watched the performance, her mouth agape. “What the hell is this?”
“If you are planning to go to war, wouldn’t you want to dehumanize your enemy first?” Lexa responded. She shook her head and dropped her gaze. “I wish I could say that I never engaged in this during my service as Heda, but I put on similar performances when our enemies were the Mountain Men. It is not something I am overly proud of.”
The Skaikru jester was knocked to the ground and skewered with a spear, red paper ribbons were tossed from his chest to represent his blood pouring onto the earth. The crowd went wild, cheering as the Trikru warrior hoisted his meaty fists triumphantly towards the sky.
“Enough of this nonsense.” Lexa took out her knife and dragged the blade across her finger to draw dark, black blood. She smeared the streaks of black under her eyes, marking her Heda war paint as if the motions themselves were from muscle memory. Clarke turned to her, her heart shuddering at noticing the dark pattern marking Lexa’s eyes; this was how she remembered Lexa when they first met in the tent outside Arkadia. Those dark, painted eyes had intimidated her when they first met, but watching her eyes now ignited a fire in her chest.
Clarke began to unwrap the crimson cloak from her hair, “You’ll need this-“
“-No,” Lexa reached out and rested her hand against the cloak. “You will need it. The people need to see you, too.”
Lexa ducked beneath the rope and strutted into the open arena, Clarke followed close behind. A guard rushed at them, and when he clasped his hand onto Lexa’s arm she responded with a swift elbow to his jaw. The guard, knocked out cold, collapsed hard at her feet. The commotion drew the crowd’s attention, and before another guard could reach her, Lexa slid the shawl from her face. What sounded to be a cacophony of gasps and cries of ‘Heda!’ rose from the surrounding throng of onlookers.
“My people!” Lexa shouted in her native tongue, her arm rising towards the sky to silence them.
Roan leaned heavy against the back of his throne and turned a steeled glare to Indra. He remained silent behind the hot fury burning behind his eyes.
“Heda is alive!” One onlooker cried out. “Our Heda is back from the dead!” Another shouted.
Clarke glanced up at the stage and met with Roan’s fiery eyes before noticing the man lingering behind him. From the shadows emerge a towering figure with long, black hair, his broad shoulders draped in white furs. His cheeks were scarred with the Ice Nation’s brand, and his dark eyes rested on Lexa in the center of the arena. The grin curling at the corners of his lips sent a shiver down Clarke’s spine.
“Yes, I am your Heda! And I have returned from the dead to fulfill my obligation to you- my people!” Lexa continued to address the stunned crowd and gestured towards Clarke. “The Commander of Death as resurrected me to deliver this message to you: your leaders have failed and deceived you!”
Roan leapt from his seat and stepped towards the edge of the stage, “Enough!”
Lexa turned her gaze to Roan, a hot rage burning behind her eyes. “A cloud of death is approaching, and all will perish without Wanheda’s blessing! Your leaders know of this, yet sit here now like fools and prefer to instead distract you with a festival! Our tribes to the west have already succumb to the fate your leaders have doomed you to!”
“That is enough, Lexa!” Roan shouted.
The crowd grew angry and began to hurl jeers and insults towards the stage. Their shouting grew louder as the shadowy figure stepped forward beside Roan and gestured towards the center of the arena. Within seconds, heavily armed Azgeda guards swarmed around and seized them.
“Let go of me!” Clarke barked, yanking her arm away from the tight grasp of a guard. Her eyes darted around in a desperate search for Lexa when she caught sight of Indra on the stage, landing a strike across Roan’s jaw before being tackled to the floor.
“Heda!” a woman’s cry pulled Clarke’s gaze around to see Lexa knocking a second guard to the ground. Dark blood trickled down her ear and jawline as she flipped another guard who tried to grab at her, but was soon overcome by three men. One guard elbowed her in the ribcage and sent her buckling forward onto her knees. Clarke’s heart dropped like a stone in her chest as she watched the guards drape a sack over Lexa’s head.
“Lexa, no!” Clarke cried out before another black bag was slid over her head, obscuring her sight. A blunt object cracked against the side of her skull and knocked her out cold, hearing only the screams of the crowd as she slipped away into darkness. |
“Constantine, Zatanna, and Nightwing.”
Kori tilted her head. “I would have sex with Constantine, marry Zatanna, and kill Nightwing.”
“Really?” Roy raised an eyebrow.
“Of course.” Kori nodded sagely. “Richard and I have already completed two of the three, or at least attempted to, so he falls into the kill category. It is not my wish to kill him, but it is an unfortunate side effect.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t want to fuck Zatanna. She seems a little more your style than Constantine.”
“Oh, I do.” Kori’s smile was wicked. “If she is my wife, then I can have her many, many times.”
Roy howled with laughter. “Work smarter not harder, I like it. For me, it’s easy. Fuck Nightwing, marry Zee, and kill Constantine. That guy’s an ass. What about you, Jason?”
Jason’s stomach twisted at the thought of Roy and Nightwing together. He knew it was all hypothetical, so he shoved his discomfort aside.
They’d been playing this game for the past hour and had made their way through half of the Justice League at this point. They needed some way to pass the time, and Fuck Marry Kill was a great conversation starter. They spent at least thirty minutes debating Lex Luthor, Granny Goodness, and Darkseid.
Everyone agreed that Lex Luthor was both submissive and breedable.
“Fuck Constantine, kill Zatanna, and marry Nightwing.”
Both of his friends’ eyebrows rose at his answer.
“I thought you were not on good terms with Richard.” Kori inquired.
Jason just shrugged. “I’m not really on good terms with Constantine either, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t fuck him.”
He probably shouldn’t be this honest, but the cheap whiskey they’d all passed around earlier was strong as hell, and Jason felt it like liquid warmth, loosening his lips and his carefully controlled self-restraint.
On a night like this, with all three of them around a campfire in the middle of nowhere, swigging straight from the bottle and laughing till their stomachs hurt, Jason’s secrets didn’t seem quite so important. These were his closest friends in the whole world. There was no one else he trusted more than them, both in battle and in life.
On a night like this, he couldn’t see any reason to hide.
“I’m surprised you wouldn’t want to fuck Nightwing. I mean, have you seen that ass? Dayummmm,” Roy whistled.
Kori nodded. “He is a very proficient lover, both on the giving and receiving end.”
That comment received an intrigued look from the archer.
“I dunno.” Jason stared into the fire, watching the golden flames flicker and dance. “I think I want more than that. He’s had so many people love him and leave him, you know? But I wouldn’t. Not unless he wanted me to.”
Roy exchanged a glance with Kori.
Jason kept going, blind to the silent conversation taking place above his head.
“He needs somebody who knows him. Knows he’s not all fucking,” he waved one hand around, trying to find the words, “rainbows and butterflies and shit. Someone who knows he’s mean as hell when he gets mad, and when he’s in a relationship, he’s clingy and jealous as fuck. Not that I would mind,” he added under his breath.
“That does sound like Richard.”
“Oh shit, sorry Kor. I didn’t mean to imply anything about your relationship, I know you two were a great couple and-”
Kori cut him off with a musical laugh. “You are sweet to care, but do not worry. Richard was a great partner, but it was not meant to be. Perhaps if the timing had been different… but I do not have any regrets. I did thoroughly enjoy your analysis of him. Richard is, in fact, ‘clingy and jealous as fuck.’”
Jason nodded. “He’s always been like that, ever since I’ve known him. He acts happy a lot, but I think he’s really, really lonely. For someone like him, friends just aren’t enough.”
“What do you mean?” Roy asked.
“It’s like, they aren’t close enough, you know?” Jason took a moment to figure out how to explain it. “He doesn’t let his friends get close enough. He needs somebody he can’t hide from. Someone who can prove to him with their actions that they’ll stay, and reassure him with their words that he’s, I don’t know. Good enough? That he’s working hard enough? I don’t fucking know.”
Jason shook his head. “He’s the closest thing to human perfection that I’ve ever met, but his self-esteem is in the fucking trash, and this comes from someone who understands low self-esteem.”
Every time Jason thought about it, it made him livid. Why did Dick think so terribly of himself? He could see it in the way he never took care of himself, in the way he blamed himself for every flaw in his relationships, and the way he worked so, so hard to keep people around. To make them stay, like every second anyone spent around him wasn’t a fucking blessing.
Half of Jason’s life had been spent in Dick Grayson’s shadow, but he wouldn’t trade this broken, bitter life for a better one without him. Because it wouldn’t be better if he wasn’t there. It couldn’t be.
Dick was goodness personified, and he deserved to be held and comforted and loved. He deserved to be somebody’s first pick, always. Fuck the ‘right thing to do,’ and fuck the world. Dick Grayson was the fucking world, and he deserved it all.
At this point, Jason’s thoughts were swirling a bit too much to be cohesive, but he tried his best to summarize everything.
“The point being, one fuck isn’t enough. It’s not enough to help him, and it’s sure as fuck not enough for me. I’d rather not have him at all than have him only once. I’d never be able to have sex again, that fucking bastard. I’d also probably have to leave Gotham and move to fucking… Africa or something, I don’t know.”
Roy glanced around pointedly. “Well, you’re halfway there already, seeing as we’re literally in Egypt right now.”
“Right, all that’s left to do is fuck Dick.” Jason snorted. “Fuck dick. That’s funny. I already do that since, ya know, I’m gay and all.”
Kori smiled at both of them, happy to see Jason loose and smiling. He was always so tense, waiting for the next disaster to strike. She understood why he felt like he needed to be so guarded, but it saddened her all the same.
She wanted her friend to be this happy all the time. And if Dick was someone that could make that happen, then she was going to do something about it.
She and Roy were both unable to ignore the longing in Jason’s eyes when he spoke about the older hero, and that had to change. He’s been dealt enough bad hands and impossible dreams.
She was going to make this happen for him, or at least put him in a position where there was a potential for success. Jason was right about Dick too, he was lonely. They were both lonely, and she could honestly see how they would be good for each other.
Yes, she was going to make this happen. She just needed a plan.
…
“You will behave while Richard is with us.” Kori leveled Jason a stern look, and he fought the urge to scoff like a child.
“Yes, mom.”
Instead of getting offended, she just laughed. “It will not be so bad, you’ll see.”
“Yeah Jason,” Roy mocked, punching him on the shoulder. “Loosen up.”
Before Jason could snap at him, Dick’s motorcycle pulled up outside their trailer.
“Perfect, let us go say hello!”
…
Dick didn’t know what case the Outlaws wanted help with, just that Kori messaged him personally and asked for a favor. Apparently the team was in Gotham for a couple of days, and Dick had no problem driving down from Blüdhaven to help out and catch up.
It had been too long since he’d last seen Kori, but it still felt as easy as breathing.
“Richard! Lovely to see you!”
“Right back atcha, Kor!”
Her grin was infectious, and he found himself smiling as he turned to greet the others. Roy clapped a hand on his back with a heartfelt “Yo,” and Jason rolled his eyes.
Maybe it was Dick’s imagination, but his body language seemed a lot more open then before. They’d started working more cases together whenever Jason was in Gotham, and Dick, well… he missed him.
“Little wing!”
Okay, so that was probably the wrong move because Jason’s face lit up pink, and he scowled. “I told you not to call me that, dickface.”
“I’ll stop calling you little wing if you stop calling me dickface,” he winked.
“Fine,” Jason smirked. “Dickhead.” Dick pretended to be offended, but in reality, it was always a treat to see Jason smile.
“So what’s the rundown?”
Jason shrugged. “This is Kori’s super special case, even I don’t know most of the details.”
That was strange. Kori wasn't one to get possessive over a mission like some of the other Titans (including himself). Maybe this one was more personal.
“I will debrief you all in the car.” Kori smiled, then reached out a hand to blend a smudge of foundation on Dick’s face. “I am glad you wore the makeup that I requested, that will save us time. Before we leave though, we must get changed.”
…
Jason now knew why Kori had been so secretive about their mission.
It’s because he would have outright refused if she’d told him the details of the case ahead of time.
He still kinda wanted to yell at her, but he couldn’t do that in front of Dick without explaining why he was so ticked.
Oblivious to Jason’s internal turmoil, the original boy wonder stared at the strip of black leather in his hands with a strange look on his face.
“You want me to wear a collar?”
Jason clenched his eyes shut. Dick was uncomfortable with this. Of course he was uncomfortable with this. He’d always been very deliberate about maintaining his independence, whether that be from Bruce or other people’s expectations.
As easy going as he appeared, Dick actually had a very deep need for control. A lot of the bats were control freaks, but Dick took it to a new level. He just hid it better than the rest of them.
So putting on a collar and allowing someone else to walk him around like they owned him? It must have been like spitting in the face of all he’d worked for.
He could feel himself gearing up to speak, and he knew he shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t do this, but he already knew he would. He’d walk through fire for Dick Grayson. In comparison, this wasn’t so bad right?
It was definitely a lie, but he clung to it desperately as he snatched the collar out of Dick’s hand.
“I’ll do it.”
All eyes in the car looked at Jason incredulously.
“What?” He snapped. “Someone has to. It’s just acting, anyway.”
“Okay,” Kori nodded. “Jason and Roy being the submissives does not change our plans. I must be the one to speak with the dealer, and Roy has the technology to hack the computers. Therefore, Roy will come with me and Jason will go with Richard.”
Turning back to Dick, Kori clapped her hands together. “You will be able to get us into the club?”
“Of course!” he grinned. “The Richie Wayne card always works.”
“Wonderful! And I must say, everyone looks lovely in their new attires.”
Jason bit back a groan. He’d been trying not to think about their ‘new attires’.
Dick was wearing a tight crop top and black leather pants that dipped into a sharp v in the front. It was super unfair how good he looked in all black, with eyeliner sharp enough to kill.
Roy and Kori were dressed a lot more colorfully. Kori had on a neon pink crop top with orange pants and cheetah print pumps. Slung over her shoulders was Roy’s black suit jacket. Roy, meanwhile, was shirtless, wearing only a pair of tight gold briefs.
Jason himself was wearing a black mesh shirt and a simple pair of stylish black cargo pants. They weren’t all too different from his Red Hood pants, which was definitely A Thought.
“Okay, we’re here!” Roy rubbed his hands together and put the car in park. “It’s showtime.”
Dick placed a hand on Jason's shoulder once they’d gotten out of the car.
“Do you need help with that?”
He gestured to the collar sitting limply in Jason’s hands, and Jason swallowed. Realistically, they don’t have the time to wait for Jason to try and fumble with the clasps. That’s all this was, nothing more. He tried to remind himself of that as he nodded and handed the collar over.
It was a strange experience, having Dick standing at his back, breath tickling the back of his neck. Dick placed the collar on him almost reverently, tracing a finger where the leather met skin.
Jason shivered as Dick murmured in his ear. “There.”
Dick must have misinterpreted the goosebumps breaking out on Jason’s skin, cause he placed a comforting hand on his lower back.
“It’s not too late for us to switch roles. Or we can monitor from the car, I’m sure Kori wouldn’t mind.”
The compassion in Dick’s voice made Jason irrationally angry. He could handle this, it wasn’t a big deal. This was for a case, and the team was counting on them.
“I’m fine,” he bit out. “Let’s just go.”
Predictably, all Dick had to do was bat those pretty eyes for the bouncer to let them in. That was the easy part.
The hard part was everything else.
Because it wasn’t enough for Jason to dress the part and wear a collar. No, he had to act the part too. And that meant allowing Dick to clip a leash to his collar and grab a fistful of hair to disguise his whisper, baring Jason’s neck in the process.
“What do you want to call me?”
Jason floundered. He’d forgotten that he needed to address Dick with an honorific. Dick must have seen the panic in his eyes, because he loosened his grip.
“How do you feel about sir?”
Well, that was better than daddy or boss or something else equally as humiliating. So instead of fleeing back out the door and running until he was miles and miles away like he wanted, he nodded.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
Jason swallowed. “Okay sir.”
This was going to kill him.
Part of the reason Jason hated this mission, besides all of the obvious reasons, was the fact that he leaned more submissive in bed.
When he first realized he responded well to someone ordering him around, he stopped having casual sex. He couldn’t afford to let someone else have that much power over him, even a stranger that he could easily overpower. He’d always a complicated relationship with sex, but that was the final nail in the coffin.
He didn’t miss it, not really. Because, as good as it felt, it was never good enough to cancel out the self-loathing that washed over him when he woke up the next morning and remembered how he’d acted the night before. No, it was better not to go there at all.
So this whole case, with Dick pretending to be his dom and Jason needing to look like a convincing sub? It was going to be a disaster.
Because it didn’t escape Jason’s notice that domming came naturally to Dick. It was like watching him put on a second skin, like the way he slipped into his Nightwing persona. His whole personality shifted, right down to the way he was standing and his tone of voice.
Dick’s proclivity towards leadership never bothered Jason too much before. That sharp gaze wasn’t often aimed at him, and whenever it was, Jason was always able to shoot off a sarcastic comment. Then the look that made him want to do whatever Dick asked would be replaced with one of frustration, problem solved.
But there was no shrugging this off. It had to look real, and Jason wouldn’t sabotage Kori’s whole case because he was a coward.
No, he would do what he needed to do for everything to go smoothly. Unfortunately, that would likely include tapping into the side of himself that he’d buried years ago.
Everything would be okay so long as he could convince the others that it was just acting. It would be fine. It would all be fine.
But then Dick tugged him forward by his leash, and he knew all his platitudes were weak and empty. Jason was undoubtably fucked, but there was nothing he could do about it now.
So he followed on Dick’s heels, head down, as they walked further into the club.
The Purple Rose wasn’t what he’d come to expect from a club, but maybe that’s because he was used to the seedy, smoke-filled clubs of his childhood. It was strange, visiting a place where low lighting made a room feel forbidden and exciting instead of grimy.
He supposed Dick and Bruce were used to this— Timmy too, now. But he hadn’t been old enough for missions in upper class clubs like this one when he’d been Robin. And he sure as hell didn’t visit any clubs with Talia; she was far too “old money” for that.
Jason was glad the club still had music with a pretty steady bass line thumping out of the high quality speakers. He wasn’t sure he could handle the unadulterated noises of the other subs and doms, ahem, enjoying themselves.
The most interesting part of the Purple Rose was the entertainment. Unlike most clubs like this, they didn’t hire performers for the stage. Instead, the club members themselves were the entertainment, allowed to go on strange and out on a show, so long as they followed the rules.
Dick walked them past a group of masked subs kneeling at their doms’ feet, an entrance to the gloryhole room, and a female dom watching the stage as her sub sat between her legs, pleasuring her.
Christ.
He tried to keep his gaze straight ahead as Dick led them to a booth on the outskirts of the crowd, close enough to see the stage but a solid distance away from any other groups. Thank god. Jason didn’t need any other eyes watching his performance.
He stayed standing as Dick sprawled on the leather booth, legs spreading in the perfect picture of casual confidence, because of fucking course he looked like sex incarnate. He was the perfect picture of temptation, a leather-clad Mr. Darcy with crystalline eyes and a biting smile.
As Dick crooked one finger to beckon him over, and Jason wondered how much of this was truly an act and how much was Dick tapping into a facet of his own personality. He’d probably never know.
“Why don’t you come sit on my lap, gorgeous?” It wasn’t a question, not really. So Jason lowered himself into Dick’s lap, yelping as the other man pulled both his feet to one side until he was holding him in a pantomime of a cradle.
“You are just a perfect little doll, aren’t you?”
The words felt like honey and poison at the same time. Still, he knew how to respond. He tried to ignore how easy it was to say the words.
“Yes sir.”
Dick’s eyes darkened at Jason’s admittance, and it made him feel hot all over. He knew he wasn't the easiest person to get along with, and that trying to work with him usually felt like pulling teeth. He also knew Dick was probably surprised at how quickly he slid into his lap and the way he was looking up at him from underneath his eyelashes, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be than bracketed in his arms.
It was a complete 180 from earlier in the day, but Jason couldn’t afford to be surly and standoffish right now. Not even to spare his pride.
Dick carded his hand through his hair, stroking and petting the thick strands, and Jason couldn’t help himself. He rested his head on Dick’s chest and let the world fade away for a little bit. He could worry about the case and his traitorous, stupid heart later. Right now, those smooth movements were lulling him into complacency. It didn’t happen often, but today, he let all of those feelings pull him under.
As the music faded in the background and Dick’s fingers wound through his hair, he drifted into sweet unconsciousness.
He wasn’t sure how long he was asleep, only that, as he slowly regained consciousness, someone was lightly scratching their nails across his head, brushing through his hair. It felt so good that he didn’t want to open his eyes.
He eventually gave into the temptation and saw Dick looking down on him, smiling with a hint of amusement.
“Feeling better?”
Jason nodded.
“You must not be getting enough rest, little wing. How long did you sleep last night?”
Jason swallowed. He didn’t want to answer, but Dick placed a finger under his chin so he couldn’t look away. The collar on his neck combined with the gentle reprimand was all it took to push Jason over the edge.
“Three hours, sir.”
Then that soft, small smile turned into a frown, and Jason just barely stopped himself from whining. Dick was unhappy with him.
“When was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”
Jason just glared at the upholstery to his left. How didn’t want to give Dick any more reasons to be mad at him.
“Be honest.” Dick’s voice was stern, and when he gave the collar a sharp yank on the collar, Jason relented ever so slightly.
“You won’t like the answer.”
He forgot to say sir, but Dick didn’t seem to notice. Instead, something like understanding flashed across his face, and his eyes softened.
“I’m not angry at you, I promise. I just want to know so I can help take care of you.”
It was such a bullshit answer, but for some reason, Jason believed it.
“It’s been a few months, sir.”
Dick nodded. “You forgot to say sir in your previous answer, and you tried to keep something from me even though I specifically asked. You realize I need to punish you for that, right?”
Jason’s face flushed as his brain supplied lots of mental images for how Dick might punish him. Jason didn’t care that they were in public or that he wasn’t a fan of exhibitionism. He’d gladly let Dick do anything he wanted to him, so long as Jason got to keep pretending this was real.
The concern in Dick’s voice, the possessive hand on his hip, the way those blue eyes kept slipping down Jason’s chest, lingering on his pecs outlined in that damned mesh shirt— Jason wanted it all.
“I want you to get on your knees.”
Heat swept through Jason as he obeyed, climbing off Dick’s lap to kneel on the hard floor of the club. He missed Dick’s warmth already, but he couldn’t deny the way it felt to have the older man ordering him around, not even looking at Jason to see if he followed the command. Instead, Dick was fishing in his pocket, eventually pulling out a black strip of fabric.
A blindfold.
The height difference between Dick in the booth and Jason on the floor was enough that Dick had to bend ever so slightly so he could affix the blindfold on the younger man’s face.
“Do you trust me?”
The question felt bigger than the case. It felt important.
Jason swallowed and nodded. He’d already known the answer, even if Dick didn't. He’d known it for a long time. “Yes sir.”
He couldn’t see Dick’s smile but he heard it in his voice. “Good. Stay right there, I’ll be back.”
And then Dick stood up and left, with Jason kneeling by the black leather bench on his own, blindfolded and bound exclusively by trust.
Even though it was stressful that he couldn’t see his surroundings, each new noise or sound causing him to tense, he didn’t move. He wasn’t helpless, even if he sort of felt that way right now. He could fight his way out of the club blindfolded if he needed to, and the types of patrons that frequented the Purple Rose didn’t pose much of a threat.
The deliberate clicking of shoes on linoleum was enough to clue Jason in that Dick was back.
“Look at you, waiting so patiently.” Dick’s voice was smooth and low, almost as if he was talking to himself. “Let me lead, okay?”
Jason nodded, then tensed as a hand touched his face.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Trust me.” Fingertips traced the seam of Jason’s mouth, and he allowed them to breach inside, gently parting his lips until his mouth opened.
Something smooth was pressed inside, then the hand nudged his jaw back up, closing his lips.
“Eat, Jason.”
It was a grape. The fruit burst on his tongue, and Jason’s shoulders slowly relaxed. It was nice to have something to focus on, a task to do.
Once he was done chewing, Dick opened his mouth once more and placed a creamy cheese cube inside.
In any other circumstance, getting fed by someone else would have been beyond humiliating. But in this case, as he drifted deeper into subspace, it was… it was nice.
The food was delicious, fruits and crackers and all sorts of expensive cheeses. He didn’t know much, only that someone was with him, taking care of him. In between bites, he was coaxed into drinking cool, refreshing sips of water.
And all the while, as he was being hand-fed on his knees, a warm hand rubbed his back, and a familiar voice whispered soft, soothing things to him. The voice told him he was a sweet boy, such a good listener, that he was so good to let himself get taken care of like this, such a good boy.
The praise and the touch and the feeling of a full stomach caused something in Jason to come undone. Any sort of resistance that he’d put in place was gone, allowing those kind words to sink straight through his skin and into his bones.
Someone cared for him. He was good. He was fulfilling a purpose, and he was making Sir so happy.
The fingers found his lips again, but this time they paused before placing another item inside.
“This is the last one, baby. I’ve got a treat for you, since you’ve been so good.”
Jason dropped his mouth open to accept whatever the hand had to offer and found that his treat was actually a round piece of chocolate. He rolled it around in his mouth, enjoying the way the decadent dessert melted on his tongue. When the last of it was gone, he fought back a whine that threatened to come out. Instead, he flicked his tongue out and licked the pads of the fingers that still rested on his lips.
He heard a bitten-off noise from above him, but he didn’t pay it attention. He was too busy taking those fingers into his mouth and laving his tongue against them, searching for any trace or hint of chocolate.
Once there was no more, the fingers reluctantly retreated.
“I don’t know how anybody hasn’t snatched you up already,” the voice murmured.
Jason couldn’t help but lean towards the sound, already missing the comfort of skin on skin. He needed more contact, this wasn’t enough. He was untethered, drifting. He needed more, he needed-
“Come here baby.”
Hands gently guided him to his feet and back into that comforting embrace.
“Are you okay with me taking the blindfold off now? It might be a little bright.”
Jason nodded, and the blindfold came off. He could have cried when that beautiful familiar face swam into view. For so long he’d wanted that particular face to give him that particular look, eyes tender and so, so accepting.
“How are you feeling? Use your words this time.”
Jason fought the fuzziness in his mind so he could follow the command. “Good. I feel good, sir. And sleepy.”
Dick’s huffed a laugh. “I’m sure you are. You haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately.” He ran his fingers through Jason’s hair, and the sensation caused the younger boy’s eyes to flutter shut. “You can rest now. I’ve got you.”
Jason didn’t know how long he laid there drifting in and out of sleep, soothed by all the soft touches and the feeling of being held. It somehow felt like forever and no time at all.
His dreamlike state was unfortunately interrupted when an unfamiliar voice spoke nearby.
“You’re way too soft on him. You’ve got to discipline your subs if you want them to stay in line. Hell, if I had a sub with a mouth like that, I’d never let him off his hands and knees.”
Jason felt Dick’s arms tighten around him, his grip flexing on Jason’s waist. When he laughed, it was lighthearted, but Jason could tell that it was strained.
“We’ve all got our different styles. I like to focus more on rewards than punishments.”
“Your loss.”
Jason finally pried open his eyes to see who was speaking. It was a middle aged man in an expensive suit, and he was eyeing Jason like he was a prime ribeye steak. Jason vaguely recognized him from the photos Kori showed them on their way to the club. He was one of their targets.
Damn, that made this a lot more complicated.
“I’d keep all those pretty holes stuffed up if I were you. A whore’s gotta learn their place, after all.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “Say, why don’t you let me borrow him for a little bit? Just a couple hours, nothing crazy. You’ll be compensated very well.”
The man reached out to touch Jason’s inner thigh, but inches before his hand met skin, Dick grabbed him around the wrist.
It wouldn’t be noticeable to someone who didn’t know him well, but Dick’s body was thrumming with tension, taut as a wire. “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t share.”
The man’s gaze lingered on Jason’s body, making him want to hide. He seemed especially interested in the exposed section of skin between Jason’s mesh shirt and the top of his pants.
“Shame,” he drawled. “If you ever change your mind, here’s my number.”
He handed Dick a card that got immediately pocketed, then left to prowl closer to the stage, where a woman in skimpy lingerie was crying as her partner whipped her.
“We could have used that to our advantage.” Jason wasn’t fully back to himself, but that entire exchange had pulled him out of subspace enough that he could recognize they’d just let an opportunity walk away.
Dick turned back to face him, eyes dark. “There are other ways.” He placed a hand on Jason’s cheek, and some of the clouds in his eyes dissipated. “I would never let him lay a finger on you, little wing. A lead is never worth that. Never.”
Jason swallowed back the emotion in his throat, stuffing it down somewhere deep to examine another time. He was still getting used to Kori and Roy’s version of looking out for him. He didn’t think… He knew Dick cared about him, but Dick cared about everybody. That was just who he was.
And yet, Jason could tell from the angle of his hand that he’d been two seconds away from breaking that man’s wrist when he tried to touch him. That wasn’t typical. Rule number one for cases was to keep your emotions in check. Emotions were a liability in the field— they could lead to recklessness and make a person easier to manipulate. If anyone got too close to a case, Bruce often reassigned it to someone else, someone who could keep a cool head. It was a good rule, and it kept them from getting sloppy.
Dick was a professional. He’d been doing this longer than any of them, with the exception of Bruce and Alfred. Yet he’d almost let his emotions interfere with their case.
The thought shocked Jason to his core. Dick was… compromised.
He’d seen the man stay in control when faced with countless child hostage situations (which, Jason knew, were the cases that caused him the most sleepless nights), and yet the thing that almost made him lose his cool was Jason.
It felt like some sort of revelation.
A flash of orange caught Jason’s eye, and he saw Kori and Roy making their way towards them, albeit in a roundabout manner so they wouldn’t appear suspicious.
Dick must have seen them too, because he turned to Jason with a new urgency in his eyes.
“Can I take you home with me tonight?”
Jason gaped at him. “Um. What?”
“Whenever I’m with a sub, it’s really important that I have time to fully bring them back up and take care of them.” He cut himself off, biting his lip. “It would really, really help me if I could spend the night with you tonight. I just need to…”
Ah. He needed to make sure Jason was okay after everything that had happened. Most people knew about aftercare for subs, but they often didn’t realize that doms needed aftercare too. It made sense that Dick needed contact and reassurance as a part of his aftercare.
Jason didn’t really want to go home with Dick. Well, that was a lie. He wanted it too much, in a way that he knew would never be possible. This whole scene tonight had been like something from one of his daydreams, one where the prince swept the heroine off her feet and carried her into the sunset.
It was wonderful, and it would hurt like a bitch when he was fully out of subspace and the self-loathing flooded in. He wanted to be in his own safehouse when it happened, or at least in the trailer with Kori and Roy so he’d have some sort of distraction.
But Dick needed to take care of him, and Jason couldn’t deny him that. Knowing Dick, he’d say it was fine if Jason turned him down, but he’d actually be messed up about it for weeks afterwards. Jason couldn’t do that to him, especially after how gently he’d treated him tonight.
“You can take me home, but you’re explaining it to Kori and Roy.”
…
The ride back to Dick’s apartment was peaceful, mostly because they were on Dick’s motorcycle, which made talking basically impossible.
Jason couldn’t ignore how loud the silence was when they made it inside and it was finally just the two of them.
They were both still in their club clothes, and Dick stood out like a sore thumb in his apartment living room, looking like something out of teenage-Jason’s wet dreams. Who was he kidding? He looked like something out of adult-Jason’s wet dreams too. But then again, that was nothing new.
Dick must have noticed the silence too, because he immediately began to fill it with a flood of words. “Did you want to shower tonight? I can get the water going for you if you want. Or I’ve got a set of clothes in my bedroom that you can borrow if you’re ready to go to bed now.”
It was kind of enduring, how nervous Dick seemed to be. He was Dick fucking Grayson for crying out loud. What did he have to be nervous about?
“A shower’s good.”
“Perfect! I’ll go get it warmed up.”
Once Dick grabbed the clothes and got the water going, he hovered next to Jason in the bathroom.
“Can I,” he cleared his throat, “can I help you with that?”
It took a couple seconds for Jason to realize Dick was talking about his collar. His face heated up as he realized he had it on.
“Sure.” He held his breath as Dick moved behind him, so close that they were almost pressed against each other.
Dick undid the clasp then gently removed the leather from his neck.
“There you go.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Now you’re all set.”
“Dick, I-”
“Jason-“
Jason turned around to face him at the same time as Dick started talking.
“Oh,” Dick smiled, just a little awkwardly. “You can go first.”
But now that they were face to face, he wasn’t sure what to say. Sending his hesitation, Dick spoke.
“I really liked getting to take care of you today.”
Jason nodded, face burning. “It was… good.”
“Really?”
His whole face lit up, and Jason rolled his eyes. “Yes, really. You’re good at that.”
And now Dick was back to bashful. “Well, you make it easy.”
“You’re so full of shit, Grayson,” he grumbled, shoving Dick’s shoulder. But instead of Dick moving aside to let him pass, he grabbed Jason’s wrist and stepped closer.
“That’s not what you were saying in the club.”
And suddenly it was hard to breathe. Dick was using that voice again, the one that made Jason’s entire brain rearrange itself, desperate to listen and obey.
They held that pose, neither one moving, as Jason waited for something to happen. They were right on the cusp of something, though he wasn’t sure exactly what.
But in the end, Dick dropped his hand. “I’ll see you after your shower.”
Jason tried not to feel too disappointed.
…
Dick left an outfit for him on the bathroom counter for when he got out of the shower, and Jason didn’t want to put it on.
Because those were Dick’s clothes. He’d seen him wear them around his apartment before, and they smelled like the fancy shampoo Dick used way too much of.
He stared at the pile of clothes, folded neatly into a little stack, and thought about all the choices he made in his life that led him to this moment, dripping water all over Dick’s bathroom floor.
He couldn’t stand there forever, as much as he wanted to. Dick would likely get suspicious and knock on the door, and wouldn’t that be something? Cause there was no way he could explain why he didn’t want to wear Dick’s clothing, no way in hell.
So with a sigh, he finished toweling off his hair and put on the clothes. On the upside, at least they were soft. On the downside, they included Nightwing-themed boxers, which he knew was meant to be a joke but hit a little bit too close to home.
Dick was seated at his four-person Ikea table when he came out, two plates in front of him and a bowl of leftover alfredo pasta right in the middle.
“I made food,” Dick smiled.
“I think ‘made’ is a bit of a stretch, but sure.”
Dick scooped each of them a portion, and Jason tried not to think about the last time he ate, the way Dick’s fingers felt in his mouth,
“So,” Dick said, when the silence had gone on for a few minutes too long. “How are you feeling?”
And there it was. Jason had been waiting for this. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend to care.” And that was definitely the wrong wording, because Dick’s face contorted in pain.
“I do care.”
“Shit, that came out wrong. It’s just- we don’t have to do this. Talk about it, I mean.”
“You don’t think there’s anything to talk about?”
Jason turned away so he wouldn’t have to look into Dick’s eyes. He was way too observant, and Jason was way too emotionally raw for this conversation. But he had to do something, or else Dick would emotionally strong arm him into talking and then he’d let something slip and then…
Well, he wasn’t sure exactly what would happen after that, but at best it would be pity and at worst, disgust.
“No, I don’t.”
“That’s interesting,” Dick’s eyes glittered dangerously, and that’s when Jason knew he was in deep, deep shit. “Because I’ve never had that much chemistry with a sub before in my entire life. And you’re telling me you didn’t feel it?”
Jason swallowed. “Nope, nothing at all.”
“Jason,” Dick snapped in his dom voice. “Why are you lying to me?”
“Because the chemistry doesn’t matter!” He exploded. “I can’t be your scene partner, or someone you fuck around with, or a person you flirt with everyone once and a while. It has to be all or nothing, and I know you don’t want a relationship with me, so it has to be nothing. The chemistry doesn’t matter,” he repeated miserably.
Welp, there goes three years of rebuilding his relationships with the family and Sunday dinners at the manor and joint patrols. At least it was finally out in the open. Maybe he’d be able to put it all behind him now and move on.
And then he realized Dick was glaring at him. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”
“I’m an idiot because you’re my type? Nice self-burn.”
“Have you ever considered that I might want a relationship with you?” Dick forged on, ignoring Jason’s attempts at deflection.
He blinked and answered honestly. “Um, no?”
“Jesus, Jace. Give a guy a chance before you automatically write him off the list.”
Jason scowled. “Well excuse me for assuming that the golden boy of Gotham wouldn’t want to date the family fuck up. Seems like a reasonable fucking assumption.”
Dick’s expression darkened. “You aren’t the family fuck up.”
“Yeah? Tell that to Bruce.”
“I don’t care what Bruce thinks. You’ve done just as much for Gotham as the rest of us, and you did it while fighting the effects of the Lazarus pit. You’re determined and resourceful and… and passionate and strong-”
“Okay,” Jason laughed uncomfortably. “That’s enough.” But Dick didn’t stop. Instead, his expression softened.
“You’re beautiful and kind and you care about people so, so much. What part of that sounds like a fuck up to you?”
“Uh, maybe the part where I tried to kill Tim and tear down everything Bruce worked for?”
Dick just rolled his eyes. “Do you remember when I was Talon for a hot second there? I literally stabbed Bruce through the shoulder.”
“But that was different,” Jason argued. “You were under the court’s control at the time.”
Dick nodded. “And you were manipulated by Talia.”
“That’s not the same thing, I had full control of my actions every step of the way.”
“Did you?” Dick’s voice was soft. “What would have happened if you’d told Talia no?”
“I woulda gone back to Gotham; I was free to leave any time. She told me I could go back to Bruce if I wanted. I chose not to.”
“Who would want to return to a so-called family who left your killer alive, didn’t seem to mourn you, and replaced you within two years? Sure, it was an ‘option,’ but Talia made sure it wasn’t an option you’d ever want to choose. She loves giving people the illusion of choice, all the while keeping a tight grip on the reins.”
“I know what she’s fucking like,” he scowled.
“The point is,” Dick reached over and placed his hand on Jason’s arm, taking care to keep his touch feather light. “I don’t hold what you’ve done in your past against you. To me, it’s not a good enough reason not to date you. So what else ya got?”
Jason blinked. “Are you seriously asking me to convince you that you shouldn’t be with me?”
Dick laughed. “Well you’re the only one with objections, so I figured we could get them all out of the way at once.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re so weird, but fine. You shouldn’t date me because no one would approve.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks, next.”
“Uh, okay. Big blue and the others don’t really approve of me and my merry band of outlaws. You might get kicked off the league.”
Dick outright laughed at that. “Uh-huh, sure. Next.”
“Bruce is going to lecture you about it until you break up with me.”
“He literally already does that, every single day of my life, next.”
Jason’s voice lost whatever teasing edge had been there. “I’m not- I’m not dating material, Dick. I’ve never held down a relationship, I’m not even sure if I’m capable of anything long term. I have a list of issues longer than I can count, and I… I don’t think I can be the guy that you seem to think I am.”
Dick took Jason’s hand in his and waited until he met his gaze. “I have just as many issues as you do, I’m just better at hiding it. And honestly? I don’t think I’m viewing you with rose colored glasses. I know you, Jason. And I’ve felt this way for a while.”
Jason took a second to absorb that. “… how long is a while?”
Dick smiled, chagrined. “I might have gone on a tangent at Donna’s birthday party last year about how infuriatingly good at everything you are. Ranted for an hour straight, half the guests left early and the other half were ignoring me by the end.”
Jason whistled. “Damn, Goldie.”
“Oh that’s not even the worst part. I spent a better half of that rant describing in excruciating detail how envious I was of your thighs. Donna politely informed me that I wasn’t envious, I was jealous because I wanted to be between them. She was right of course, and I got so flustered when you called me on coms the next week that I crashed my motorcycle into a building.”
“That’s why you crashed?!” Jason remembered that night. He’d assumed Dick was overworking himself like he usually did, so he dropped Chinese food off at his place the next day.
“Yeah,” Dick laughed, but his cheeks were pink. “I was pretty stupid over you. Still am, actually.”
Jason closed his eyes, then decided to be honest. He’d tried running from his feelings and he’d tried hiding them. He hadn’t yet tried telling the truth. Maybe this would all go to hell, but maybe it wouldn’t.
Besides, Roy and Kori would murder him if he told them he let this opportunity slip through his fingers.
“I’m pretty stupid for you too, if we’re putting our cards on the table.”
“Good,” Dick smiled. “Wanna be stupid together?”
“God, you’re such a dork,” Jason groaned.
“Yup! But I’m not the one who has a crush on me.”
“Ugh, shut up.”
“Make me,” Dick’s grin was mischievous.
“Really? What are we, in 5th grade?”
Dick wrinkled his nose. “You better hope not, cause I’ve got plans for you.”
“Plans?” Jason raised an eyebrow.
Dick reached into his pocket and pulled out the black collar Jason had worn at the club. “Plans.”
He wasn’t sure who stood up first, but then they were up against one of the kitchen walls, hands grasping and mouths connected and tongues intertwined. Jason put up a good fight, but Dick was as controlling with his kisses as he was with everything else. After a few seconds, Jason gave up and let Dick angle his head and bite his lip and dominate his mouth. He kinda wanted to hate it on principle, but there was something about being ravished that felt so. damn. good.
They hadn’t even done more than kiss yet, but Jason already knew what he’d said during that game of fuck marry kill was true. Sex with Dick was going to ruin him forever. But honestly, as long as Dick kept moving his tongue like that, he didn’t even care.
It wasn’t until Jason was spread out on Dick’s bed that it hit him– Kori had attended Donna’s birthday party the previous year. That meant she’d heard Dick’s rant about Jason’s thighs and Jason’s drunken fuck marry kill confession.
“Holy shit, we totally got set up, didn’t we?”
Dick smiled into the hollow of Jason’s throat, where he’d been mouthing a hot line of bite marks across his collar bones. “I figured it was a set up from the moment I got her text.”
“And you didn’t say anything?!”
Dick rolled his hips forward, and Jason bucked at the pressure. “You complaining?”
“Nope,” he gasped as Dick’s slick tongue traced a line up his throat. “Absolutely not. In fact, why don’t we send her a fruit basket as a thank you.”
“Later,” Dick murmured distractedly, running his hands down Jason’s sides and up underneath his shirt. “I’ve got a better idea of how to spend our time tonight.” |
“Hey son, how’s it going at Jude’s?”
“Dad… can you come and pick me up.”
Adam got up from the couch and left the living room. It was evident to him that his son was upset.
“Hey, what’s happened? Anything wrong?”
“Please just come and pick me up, I’m down the road from his house.”
“But I thought your mothe-.”
“No. Please. It has to be you.”
“Ok… yeah of course. I’ll be there.”
Adam returned to the living room to get the car keys from the table.
“How was he? They having fun?” Mrs. Stevens says casually while watching the TV.
“I’m going to pick him up.”
“What? Already? But we said I was going to pick him up?” Mrs. Stevens looked confused.
“He asked for me. I think he might want to talk about a certain someone’s birthday present.” Adam grinned at his wife.
“Naaw… he’s sweet. Alright, you go.”
”See you honey.” Adam said and kissed his wife.
Adam you’re a genius…
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Adam immediately saw Connor as he was sitting on a bench by the road close to Jude’s house. He could already tell that something was very wrong, Connor was hanging his head and looked miserable.
“Hey son…” Adam said as Connor opened the car door and took his seat.
Connor had his eyes closed and took deep breaths.
“What happened?”
No response from Connor.
“Son…? Something wrong?”
“Yeah… something’s wrong…” Connor finally spoke.
“What?”
“I’m not sure… but I’ll find out.” Connor look resolute.
“Come on, talk to me son, is there something I can do?”
“I… I don’t know yet dad. But somethings not right and… and I need to know why.”
“Ok… but, you sure there’s nothing I can do? I’ve been known to be helpful once in a while.”
“Thanks dad but I… I don’t know yet. I don’t even know if Jude wants to see me again.” And with those words Connor’s resolute posture cracked and he tried to hold back his sobs.
“What? Why wouldn’t he?” He was almost sure that Jude liked his son, like that. He’d seen it at the lake. He couldn’t tell Connor though as he wasn’t sure.
“He… I don’t know. He had some sort of panic attack. About something I did. But I didn’t mean to make him upset.” Connor was still crying softly.
“What did you do?”
“It… it doesn’t matter.” Something told Connor that Jude didn’t want anyone else to know about what happened and that included Adam.
“Can we just go, please.”
“Yeah… ok. Sure, son.”
As Adam was driving away he remembered something.
“Yeah by the way, you need to buy your mother something extra nice for her birthday.”
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Connor was lying in his bed looking at the ceiling. Since moving to San Diego this was not anything unusual. What was different was how Connor was feeling. He was almost depleted. The image of Jude lying in that corner, looking like that… sounding like that… It was too much for Connor.
He’d spent almost an hour sitting on the floor in his shower thinking about it. He’d been crying a lot. Seeing Jude like that… no. Never again. He was going to make sure of that. Jude Jacob should never have to feel like that again as long as Connor was around.
He wanted nothing more than to call Jude. He wanted, no he needed, to hear his voice. But he knew he couldn’t call him. Of course he couldn’t. He thought about texting him but he couldn’t make himself do it. He didn’t know what to say. He just wanted to make this… right.
The evening turned into night but Connor was wide awake. His mind had been racing for hours. He’d thought about calling Hannah, or Madison, or even Chris, but he decided against it. Jude probably didn’t want anyone to know about it. But perhaps they could help him? No… not without asking Jude.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Connor apparently fell asleep as he awoke the next morning. He felt quite good for about five seconds until he remembered everything again. He closed his eyes, his stomach physically hurt thinking about yesterday.
He did his best to try and occupy himself and his mind. He tried playing video games, he tried surfing the internet, he even thought about studying but as it reminded him of Jude he didn’t.
He looked outside, objectively it was a beautiful Sunday but Connor couldn’t care less about the weather.
At noon, his father knocked on the door and entered.
“Hey son… can we talk?”
Connor nodded. He had returned to his bed, just staring absentmindedly at the familiar ceiling.
Adam closed the door behind him.
“So… how you feeling?”
Connor shrugged.
“Son you have to realize that you’re making me worried. Should I be worried about you?”
“No… not about me. I’ll be fine. I’m just… thinking about Jude.”
“Ok… that’s good. Well it’s not good but I’m glad to hear you’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be fine… hopefully.”
Adam had never really seen his son this way. Connor was almost always happy and carefree. This version of his son was far from both those things.
“Do you want to tell me what happened yesterday?”
Connor shook his head. “I can’t. He wouldn’t want me to.”
“Ok… I respect that. He’s got a good friend in you.”
“I just hope we’ll remain friends…” Connor felt close to tears.
“Jude is smart. Right?”
“He’s a genius…”
“Exactly. So if you didn’t try to hurt him on purpose, he’ll get that eventually, right?”
Adam was making sense so Connor nodded.
“Alright good. Just give him time, whatever this is about I’m sure he’ll come around.”
After a moment of silence Connor speaks up.
“Dad…”
“Yeah?”
“I… I like him.”
“I know you do, son. I like him too.”
“Yeah but I… I like him a lot.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah…”
“You sure?”
Connor looks his father in the eyes and nods.
“I’m sure.”
Adam was once again feeling immensely proud of his son. He was even feeling a bit proud of himself that Connor felt safe enough to discuss his feelings with him. From what he’d heard from other parents it wasn’t all that common.
“Well then there’s only one thing to do son.”
“What’s that?”
“You have to find out if he feels the same. These feelings don’t go away just like that.”
“Well easy for you to say, it’s not like I can ask him. I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”
“I’ve only seen you together at the lake. And that touch was not in the way you pat your friend on the shoulder if you ask me. Has anything else happened?”
“I don’t know… We’ve, looked at each other a few times.”
“Looked?”
“Yeah… I can’t describe it but it’s… I can’t breathe in those moments… I just look him in the eyes and I… I zone out. It’s scary really.” Connor looks up in the ceiling but Adam can hint a small smile on his lips.
Adam tries to repress smiling widely as his son is opening up his heart to him.
“How many times have it happened, this zoning out?”
“Four. Four times.” Connor said not missing a beat.
“First time in the cafeteria, first day of school. Second time later that week on the soccer field. Third time at the lake when our fingers were almost touching. Fourth time yesterday after we’ve made dinner.” Connor didn’t have to think twice remembering when and where it had happened.
Adam nodded as Connor went on talking about what seemed to be happy memories.
“And I take it… these looks last a bit longer than they do with… other friends?”
“Yeah… definitely.”
”Well you have to find out then. Remember that no one can resists a Stevens. If he wasn’t gay before we’ll turn him.” Adam chuckled.
“Yeah I wish it was that easy…”
“You sure you don’t want my help? I can try and figure him out for you. Very discreetly of course.”
“Dad. No. I know we kid around a lot but I’m being 100 % serious now. I will never talk to you again if you do.”
Adam laughed “Ok ok I won’t. Let me know if I can help.”
“I won’t. Trust me on that.”
“Alright, lunch in 15 minutes, come down when you’re ready.” Adam said and left Connor’s room.
Even though the memory of yesterday still overshadowed everything that could be considered positive in his life Connor was very grateful that he could talk about Jude with someone. He honestly didn’t know what he’d do if he’d have no one to talk to about all of this.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Jude was laying still in his bed. He hadn’t left his room since yesterday… since his blackout. He remembered… some of it. He’d yelled at Connor. He didn’t remember what he said but he was sure it was bad. He felt sick just thinking about it.
It had taken almost two hours for his severe panic attack to somewhat subside. By far the worst incident since the beach over two years ago. He had been so afraid of this. That it would happen in front of Connor. And here he was, laying and thinking about that his worst nightmare had come true.
He hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours. Didn’t matter. He couldn’t feel a thing anyway. Phil would be home in a few hours, he still had time to put everything back in order.
Jude had been by himself most of his life. He’d learned to live with it just fine. Honestly it had been fine. He managed. He survived.
These last few weeks however had been very hard on Jude. He felt… alone whenever he wasn’t with Connor. Before, Jude had no problem at all with being alone, but now... now...There was too much going on inside him for him to handle. This… thing, with Connor, was too much for him to handle on his own. But he had no choice, of course he hadn’t.
Now it didn’t matter. Connor was gone, probably forever. Connor was a saint but even he would have his limit. He wouldn’t want to have Jude the psycho as a friend even if he probably would be too kind to tell Jude himself. Jude probably had to do it for him.
Jude got up from his bed and stood before his mirror. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. His bottom lip started to tremble and tears was once again going down his cheek. As so many times before, he traced his fingers from below his right chest down to his belly button.
Disgusting.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Connor was getting ready for bed. He’d been ready for it the whole day. He was hoping so much that Jude would be at school tomorrow that he’d turn to praying. On the other hand, he was almost terrified to see him. Not knowing if Jude even wanted to talk to him anymore scared him.
One good thing had come out of this weekend. Connor wasn’t uncertain what this fascination about Jude was anymore. He wasn’t confused anymore. Seeing Jude so vulnerable and broken had shown Connor what he wanted.
He liked Jude. He liked him more than a friend for sure. This was really nothing new. What was kind of new was that now he was sure that these feelings wouldn’t pass in a long long time, if they ever would. He couldn’t fight it anymore, it was pointless.
Accepting this didn’t make him any less scared. If these feelings meant he’d lose Jude as a friend, he… no he couldn’t even think about that. As he was starting to worry himself that Jude would freak out if he ever told him his phone buzzed.
He picked it up, he stopped breathing when he saw that it was a text from Jude. It must be a long one since it all didn’t fit on his screen. He took a deep, much needed, breath and unlocked his phone. He laid down in his bed and started reading it very carefully.
“Hey Connor. It’s Jude.
I guess now you know why I deserve all the things that J&S and the others do to me. I didn’t want you to see this side of me, ever. If only you knew how hard I’ve tried for this not to happen in front of you. I don’t really know exactly what I did or what I said to you but I’m sure it was bad. If I can ask one last thing of you it’s that you please don’t tell anyone at school what happen. I know that I can’t make you and I'll understand it if you do tell.
I’ll tell Lena to find you another tutor. I’m more sorry than I can ever tell you.
I just want you to know that I still meant what I said. About meeting you.
Goodbye.” |
Being the new kid was never fun.
Niall knew this all too well. His parents were both betas, which was very controversial in his hometown, so they didn’t have any family to hold them down to any certain place. This meant they were always very nomadic, moving him from city to city, meaning he had very few friends.
By very few, he means he has a very docile fish named Nemo and that’s about it.
But this time, his parents promised him that this was the last place they would be moving. Sadly, this was one of the many places they went where Niall just didn’t fit in.
Well, personally, Niall liked Ashton and Mikey, two alphas in his grade. The boys liked Niall well enough, but there was just something about Niall that set people off. His scent was odd.
Niall’s parents told him that it was because he hadn’t shown yet, which was a very strange scent to other teens because most people showed when they were in primary school.
Niall just shrugged it off, he didn’t mind going to school that much. Though he didn’t really get along with any of the students, the teachers at his school seemed to really like Niall.
Mr. Styles, the school counselor, was the first person Niall met. His parents insited on Niall going to see Mr. Styles every Wednesday to talk about his “problems”. For some reason, his parents thought that the reason Niall hadn’t shown yet was because of their ultimately negligent upbringing and his lack of alpha influence. Niall didn’t mind too much though, Mr. Styles was the tall, handsome and charming alpha every omega and beta dreamed about. He had a slow, captivating voice that curled around every letter. He seemed to really like touching Niall. He always sat next to Niall during their meetings, a hand resting on Niall’s thigh or a hand around his neck. Niall thought maybe he was just a tactile person, but he had seen other people in meetings and Harry was always sat at his desk, so he didn’t really understand.
Mr. Tomlinson was crazy and Niall loved every second of his science class. Leaping around the class and shouting obscenities, trying to convince everyone in the class that “Chemistry can be fun!!”. He also took a special liking to Niall, it seemed. He constantly scrawled all over Niall’s paper, scribbling smiley faces and “A+++++++”’s on his homework. He often touched Niall as well, running a hand down his arm, or even flicking Niall’s forehead when he seemingly wasn’t paying attention in class.
Mr. Payne, on the other hand, was the compete opposite. Niall had heard from Mikey that the British Literature teacher was super strict and harsh on his grading. But when Niall had stumbled his way into his class, mumbling a soft apology with hunched shoulders, Mr. Payne had just rubbed a soothing hand on Niall’s back, telling the smaller boy that he had nothing to worry about. No, Niall didn’t do too well in Mr. Payne’s class, but Mr. Payne offered all of the extra help he needed. When Niall had told Mikey this, Michael had whined, telling Niall that Mr. Payne wouldn’t tutor him even when he asked. By this time, Niall was flat out flabbergasted.
Last but certainly not least, Mr. Malik. Mr. Malik was a whole different story. Mr. Malik was the art teacher, who everyone loved. From paint stained skinny jeans to perfectly styled hair, Mr. Malik was the epitome of the quiet and mysterious type. He often told Niall to stay back after class, gripping Niall’s hand softly as he showed him the proper technique to hold a paint brush. Sometimes the older man’s breath would lightly hit against Niall’s ear, resulting in a shiver and a blush on the younger. Niall didn’t even know what was going on anymore.
It all came together on a Friday.
It was the day after Niall’s parents had decided they were tired of dreary old Bradford and decided to go on a 10-day adventure to Brighton. Of course they had offered to bring Niall, but the kid was just beginning to get comfortable in his new home, so they decided to let the boy stay home alone.
They would’ve never done this if they had thought Niall was going to be an omega. For goodness sakes, there was a 90% chance that Niall was going to turn out a beta! Even after that, there was only a 3% chance that he would turn out to be a male omega. They were so sure that he was going to be just like his own parents that they just up and left him alone at the end of the month.
Only problem, Niall isn’t so sure anymore.
He wakes up in a cold sweat. The moment he moves to sit up he lets out a loud, involuntary whimper. He claps a hand against his mouth, eyes wide with surprise. He feels a stirring in his pants and yeah, he’s half hard.
‘What the hell?’ Niall thinks to himself as he gets into the shower, which is set completely to the cold side. Sure, Niall has had morning woods before, but he feels a pain in his backside that just doesn’t feel natural.
Shaking it off, Niall gets out of the shower, does his hair, brushes his teeth and goes to put on clothes.
Another surprise is when Niall begins to pull up his briefs, and he’s hard again.
Niall’s face is screwed up in utter confusion and dismay. He has no time to do anything about it. He even considers staying home, but his parents would definitely find out and he can’t just– Niall groans as he pulls the briefs over his hardening member.
As soon as he pulls his joggers on, hoping that the bagginess in the waist will conceal his problem, he pulls on a large tee, grabs his backpack and runs for the bus.
* * * *
Niall is really regretting his decision to go to school.
He’s been sweating for his entire first hour, and the alpha boys in his class are giving him questionably sexual gazes. Niall shudders, keeping their gaze, kind of wishing one of them would just stick their c–
‘what. the. hell.’
Niall bolts up the second the bell rings, making a run for the office, ready to fake sick and get home as quickly as possible.
It isn’t until, “Hey, I’m talking to you, bitch!” some asshole yells in Niall’s face as he shoves him up against the wall.
Niall’s eyes are crinkled in confusion. Bitch was a word people only used for omegas…
Niall’s eyes widen in realization. “Fuck.” He says lowly, but it comes out as a whimper and Niall realizes it’s because the guy is pushing his bum roughly against the brick wall and–
“You better let him go right now or you’re going to regret it.” A dark, dangerous voice growls and Niall mewls loudly.
Niall watches as the boy who was holding him whimpers in fear of the obviously stronger alpha challenging him. The boy scrambles away, basically sprinting from the area.
“Fuck, Niall.” Niall hears and he looks over to see Mr. Payne looking back at him, a hungry, desperate look in his eyes.
Niall nods in agreement. “Yes, fuck Niall.”
‘WHAT THE HELL’
Mr. Payne lets out a huff of air, looking like he was using every once of self-control to not do just that.
“Niall you need to go home, let me call your parents.”
Niall shakes his head “They aren’t home. 10 more days.”
Mr. Payne looks vicious. “They left you alone at the end of the month? Who’s supposed to defend you?”
Niall whines. “Didn’t know I was an omega. We don’t even have an alpha in my family.” He doesn’t want to think about that. Mr. Payne’s a perfect candidate for a mate, it’s only natural for Niall’s omega to want him.
Niall’s family wouldn’t be sufficient for him anymore. Every omega needed an alpha in the household to protect them from crazed alphas trying to fuck them whilst in their monthly heat. Obviously, Niall didn’t have that.
‘Yet.’ the omega within him reminded.
“Fuck. Okay.” Mr. Payne says, grabbing Niall up in his arms and rushing him out into the parking lot.
Niall whines, biting the exposed skin at his neck, wanting to drown in the scent of a horny alpha.
“No, Niall. Behave.” Mr. Payne orders, his alpha tone in place. He places Niall in the car, buckling him in the car tightly before getting on the phone.
“Haz, Call the others– Niall’s gone into heat– I know that– Just trust me–Haz, Haz! If you don’t bring the others home quickly, then I’ll be fucking him without you lot– Don’t try me.” The teacher says, pulling out of the parking lot and speeding down the road without glancing at Niall once.
Niall doesn’t say a word, wanting to behave like his alpha commanded, but he couldn’t help but moan at the image of Mr. Payne fucking him. Niall was panting by the time they arrived at a large apartment building. The teacher grabbed the small, sweaty boy and immediately began jogging up the stairs, stopping at a door on the 5th floor. The apartment was large, and the teacher pushed Niall onto the couch.
Niall mewed at the sight of the alpha standing over him, looking incredibly dominant. “Mr. Payne–”
“You can call me Liam, Niall, or daddy, even sir. Whichever you prefer. That goes for everyone, by the way.” Liam says with a smirk on his face. “Take off your shirt, baby.”
Niall doesn’t hesitate, not even asking who “everyone” is, obeying instantly, pulling the large shirt off and kicking his shoes off hastily.
Just as he’s looking back at Liam for permission to take off the rest of his clothes, three more familiar faces burst through the door of the apartment. It takes Niall a moment to recognize the smell and sight of his art and science teacher and his counselor. They all stare at the half naked boy for a moment until their unbearable alpha scent hits the blonde and he wails. He can feel his empty hole stretching and gaping, just begging to be filled. He can feel himself rutting against the couch, digging his nails into his thighs, tears filling his eyes in need and exasperation.
“Fuckin’ shit.” Mr. Tomlinson gasps.
“Get him into the bedroom.” Liam says, grabbing up Niall’s discarded clothes and folding them quickly, motioning towards the other three.
Zayn and Harry haul Niall off, dragging him off towards the bedroom, which is adorned by a bed that must’ve been larger than a king-sized. Niall’s thrown onto the bed, whining loudly and writing around desperately searching for any kind of contact.
“Where’s Liam?” Louis asks excitedly, already climbing onto the bed and grasping Niall’s wrists together above his head, enjoying the way he struggled and sniveled.
“Right here.” Liam says, walking into the room and dropping a heavy box onto the floor next to the bed. Liam grins at Harry, who looks overwhelmed and terribly excited, and undoes the tie wrapped around his neck, throwing the soft piece of fabric to Zayn, who climbs on top of the boy who is wriggling in Louis’ grasp. Zayn sits on the boy’s chest, who cranes his neck, trying to get closer so that he could maybe dig his face into the art teacher’s crotch. He just wanted something. Anything. Zayn tied the tie around the boys wrists tightly, then pulled it to tie around the headboard, securing the boy in place.
Louis grinned at the other alpha’s handy-work. “Nice, babe.” He says, pulling the tanned boy to an open mouthed kiss right above Niall’s face. Niall sobbed, thrashing around underneath the boys. Harry and Liam both let out breathless laughs. “Enough teasing, boys.” Liam says, as Harry pulls down the boys joggers and briefs, letting them twist around the boys legs. With the boys cock completely on display in the cold air, the boys all laugh as Niall begins bucking as well as he can, trying to get any relief.
Harry shakes his head at the boy, shoving three of his fingers in front of Niall’s face tauntingly. Niall cried out, opening his mouth as wide as it would go, understanding completely what he had to do. Harry relented, only for a second, just allowing the tips of his fingers into the boys’ needy mouth, before going over to the other side of the bed, pulling Niall’s legs and positioning them up in the air. After a nod of approval from the rest of the boys, Harry pressed the first finger into Niall’s self-lubricating hole. Niall screamed, trying to press back and fuck himself onto Harry’s long finger, but Harry wouldn’t let him, pulling back every time he got close. Louis finally felt pity on the younger boy, pulling down his own boxers and taking Zayn’s place on Niall’s chest and waving his fully hard prick in front of Niall’s tear-streaked face. Niall’s mouth fell open immediately, tongue stuck out and eyes closed as Louis began fucking into his willing mouth. Liam and Zayn watched with lust-filled eyes as Niall’s pink little mouth stretched around Louis’ engorged cock. Smirking at each other, Liam and Zayn take their places attacking each other’s mouths, fighting for dominance in a never ending cycle, only stopping to watch Harry finger-fucking Niall. Niall moaned around Louis’ member severely, feeling Harry stick another finger into his bum.
“Daddy.” Niall whined loudly, obviously surprising everyone in the room as he felt each of the alphas’ aura flare dangerously.
“Fuck!” Louis growled, pulling out of the boys mouth before he came prematurely.
Harry seemed to spur on, encouraged by the too-too hot words coming from the young boys’ mouth. He brought another finger into their boys’ little hole, leaning forward and whispering, “You like that, you little whore? You just love being your daddies’ little slut, huh?” Harry growls, his words turning everyone on even more.
Niall nodded, mouth now empty and wanted. “Yes! Yes! Daddy Daddy, sir, oh my god.” He whimpers, completely unable to function any longer.
Harry takes his fingers back, not even bothering to look to the other boys before plunging his cock deep inside the needy omega in front of him. Niall cries out, mewling desperately pulling against the ties, “Bite me, Bite, Please, Claim me! Alpha! Daddy!”
Harry doesn’t even try to hold off on coming, he had spent too many nights dreaming of this very moment, he unclenches his jaw and sinks his elongated teeth into the junction between Niall’s shoulder and neck. Niall lets out a silent moan, cumming instantly, clenching around Harry’s already releasing member.
Louis shoves Harry away as soon as he’s licked over the wound, taking place in front of the moaning boy, shoving his dick into the somehow still tight hole, and reveling in Niall’s gasp of “Too much, daddy, daddy, Alpha!” Louis growls.
“Oh, princess, you take it real good, yeah? Real good for your daddies.”
Niall nods as vigorously as he can, bucking up against Louis’ abdomen, already hard again. “Yes, yes! I’ll be so good daddies, dad– OH, god!” Niall whines as Louis hits his prostate over and over in a burst of energy, cumming right in Niall, biting right over Harry’s-already-healing bite. Niall whines, feeling himself cum once again.
Panting harshly, tears and sweat mixing on his cheeks, Niall needs more.
Niall can’t even focus when Zayn mounts him, Louis is shoving his tongue into the younger boys throat, drinking in the boys scent and the engulfing way he could smell himself and Harry within the boy. He would finally be theirs.
Niall finds him self pushing down against Zayn’s huge cock, moaning into Louis’ mouth for the tan boy to go harder and faster, hating the quiet and calm way Zayn was slowly fucking into the needy omega.
Zayn continued to take his time, warning the boy lightly, “Be patient, baby boy.” When Niall whines out once, Zayn delivers a hard smack to the boys already red bum. Niall whimpers even louder, making all of the boys raise their eyebrows. “Oh, what was that, does the baby like it when daddy smacks his pretty little arse?” Zayn teases, making Niall whine in embarrassment, still nodding. Zayn grins devilishly, smacking against the boys ass once more, not prepared when the boy cums on impact. The clench around his cock sets Zayn off, a bit before he had intended, making him surge forward and bit into the same area as the other two alphas.
Niall is breathing heavily at this point, overstimulated and still not sated, still squirming around as Harry and Louis attack his nipples, pinching and sucking as Zayn takes over kissing the boys tiny little mouth.
Liam grins, stalking forward as if Niall was his prey. Niall whines, eyes trained on the usually kind-looking man.
Liam pulls Niall’s legs up against his shoulders as soon as he hits the bed, pressing his tongue flat against Niall’s stretched hole.
Niall mewls out, already begging for Liam. Liam doesn’t have it in him to continue his torture, and decides to save rimming for another day. “Alright princess.” Liam mutters, pressing his cock into the boy, slowly like Zayn.
Watching all of his mates torturing their new omega slowly and cruely, Liam began fucking into the blonde, relishing in every moan and mew coming from the boy. Every slow, dedicated thrust hit against the boys small bundle of nerves perfectly and Niall just couldn’t take it anymore. He whined, “Daddy, daddy, I’ve been good, please, please, daddies? I’ve been good, Bite me, bite me, please, daddy, daddy–” And Liam can’t just be unaffected by that. Liam groans loudly as he unloads his seed within the boy, biting into the same place as all of the other boys and licking it so it would heal into a nice scar. Niall screamed, cumming for the last time, his chest smeared with white and the bed spread beneath them dripping with sweat and cum.
“Well.” Louis says, laughing out loud.
Liam joins in after, and Zayn and Harry do as well. As for Niall, well, he looks knackered, but he has a lazy smile on his face, eyes nearly closed.
“I’m an omega.” He says, nodding to himself and they all bust out into laughter again.
“Really? I wasn’t so sure…” Harry laughs, and then goes to nuzzle into the boys’ shoulder. kissing the painful looking bites surrounding that area.
“I’m you guys’ omega… all of yours’?” He asks hesitantly, looking up at us with a tilt to his head that is the most adorable thing ever.
All of the alphas coo, “Yeah.” Zayn nods along with the rest of them
“Your ours, Niall. No one elses.” Harry grins, a bit possessively.
Liam agrees, “No one else can touch you, okay? I don’t think they’d dare try, seeing as you have 4 powerful alpha claims on you… but if they try you run and find us, alright.”
Niall nods lazily, and Liam thinks he’ll need to give this lecture again in the morning. “Yours.” Niall says, cuddling into the nearest person who just so happens to be Harry.
Louis nods, “Ours.”
Niall wasn’t too sure what he was going to tell his parents– or anyone really, when they figured out about him being an omega– or what he was going to do when they figured out that he had 4 alphas now, who were his teachers. But at least for now, it didn’t matter. He had his alphas curled around him, whispering things like “ours” and “never letting you go” and everything was alright. He had another 10 days before all hell may break loose.
|
"What did you just say to me?" Elaine said after a few blinks in disbelief.
"There's really no need for me to repeat myself," Dr. Doherty replied in his Irish accent. "I'm certain you heard me clearly the first time," he said taking off his glasses allowing her to see his icy cold blue eyes without any obstruction now.
She scoffed as he pushed up the sleeves of the scarlet striped button down, revealing a tattoo on the inside of his forearm, no doubt in Gaelic. The tall, well defined man stood only enough to push open the window of his office and turned on the fan creating a soft whir in the room. Afterwards, relaxing back in his seat. Her coffee bean colored eyes scanned shelves and bookcases chocked neatly full and alphabetized. Her mind traveled back to last week and her professor's aforementioned aversion to clutter when he ordered everyone to move their things out the aisles because it was too distracting.
"Dr. Doherty, I'm sorry, but that's just wrong and...and I'm offended and disgusted," she stammered as collected her satchel and rose to leave.
"No you're not. Sit your arse back down. If you were as disgusted as you say you are, you'd have left a long time ago," he said blowing the smoke into the fan.
****
At only his third semester present at the university, Dr. Doherty was recognized as the bad boy star of the history department. He was 31 single, originally from Belfast, cursed every other word, and didn't give a damn who he offended, because basically, the man was a genius in the field of Western European history specializing in the UK. Rockstar would have been more fitting than a doctor of history. Elaine thought him attractive like everyone else, but more so charismatic, she enjoyed his enthusiastic lectures. That said, her passion was more so for the course, Celtic and Gaelic History, than him. Elaine, was actually a 25 year old grad student from the Middle Eastern Studies department, but she decided to take the course having always been intrigued by the mysticism of the Celts. As a result, she was always on time and never missed a class despite its late time of 6pm. She would watch girls add their phone numbers to their assignments slyly, wear low cut blouses in the front row, everything they could do to get his attention, but he only ignored them and would remind everyone "I run a tight ship, and shenanigans will get you tossed overboard."
****
Elaine took a deep breath and did as he directed. "I
I didn't fail that test," She said trying to control the volume of her voice.
"Oh really? How do you
that? Study 2 weeks in advance, did you? Took Issac Newton equivalent notes?"
"Yes!" She retorted no longer able to keep her voice down.
"Well, you did a right shite job, I'll tell you that. It does not show,' he snapped back at her.
"You're a liar," she said folding her arms across her chest, the perfect little Cupid's bow of her lip now pursed in a sour expression.
"And you can't prove it, so you have 1 of 2 choices, Either leave and fail the midterm- meaning you'll more than likely fail the class.
" the cigarette tipped in her direction as he gestured, "you can choose my alternative."
Her head fell backwards and she exhaled heavily. The rims of her eyes began to burn as tears became inevitable. "Why are you doing this? You have
the women in
your courses throwing themselves at you, and you choose me?"
Dr. Doherty took a final drag from his cigarette before snuffing it out in the already ash laden tray. He shrugged as he blew out the smoke carelessly, no longer concerned with if it went out the window or not "I'm a chancer. Plus, you've got a dead on little body, gorgeous face, and nice curls. I'm a bit partial to curls." His eyes went to the thick Sharpie marker sized raven ringlets that hung past her shoulders. In fact, it was her hair that had caught his attention 2 semester ago when they crossed paths early one morning coming out of the locker rooms at the university gym. They exchanged flirtatious smiles, but nothing more, and both thought the other had forgotten of the encounter. "And cause honestly, I think you've got a big stick up your arse, and this would be good for you." He said like a mother would say to their child about eating their vegetables or playing outdoors more. "C'mere, enough of this blathering on, this is my last time asking you, otherwise, it's F." His blue eyes pierced hers and a sly grin surfaced as she looked away and her fingers brushed away a tear. The dimple in his chin that she once thought was his most attractive feature and gave him the most character, didn't seem so attractive anymore. "Don't cry, I promise you'll enjoy it. It's for your own good, really," he said with a an affirming nod. Dr. Doherty stood and ran a hand back through his dark brown waves and then down his dark stubble of 5'o clock shadow that seemed to be there at all hours of any given day.
She groaned in repulse, dragging her hands down her face. " Here?" her eyes not bothering to follow him as he moved from behind the desk to the other side of the room.
"Right, here. We've got plenty of room." Which he was right, he did have a pretty ample sized office. There was even enough room for a sofa. "Would you like me to turn on the lamp, set the mood a little bit? I know how you good girls are about your mood." He said not waiting for a response.
The yellow glow of the lamp filled the room weakly as the fluorescent overhead lighting blinked off soon after. He closed the window and the blinds and soon she felt his hands on her shoulders, massaging them deeply as he tried to relax her. She felt her body tensing, and as though she was going to burst into tears.
"Take off your sweater, would you?"
She stood up as he requested and undid the belt of the gray wrap cardigan. His hands pushed the material away from her soft skin and down her arms, letting the sweater fall into the seat of the chair. His fingers roamed over rich chocolate caramel tone shoulders and pronounced collar bone and she could feel his breath on her neck as he inhaled the sweet smell of her perfume. She was beginning to shake, and her stomach turned flips.
"Shhhh..." he said softly into the skin of her neck before he began to kiss it gently.
A breathy whimper escaped her mouth and she felt his lips curl into a devilish smile of success. Without warning, he pushed the chair between them half way across the room, and before she had a chance to catch her breath or gather her wits, his lips were on hers and his tongue was deep inside her mouth. With a firm shake of her head, she pulled away and began trying to squirm out of his clutches, pleading with him as she unknowingly backed herself into the wall.
"I'll take the F, I don't want to do this."
But his body was already firmly against hers with no sign of shifting. "Stop whining." he said centimeters away from her face and she felt the taste of cigarettes flood her mouth as he kissed her again. One hand traveled down to the hem of the white camisole she was wearing underneath the sweater. He pushed it up slowly, his palm grazing the soft skin of her abdomen as it slid upward towards her head. As he got to her breast, he stopped and gave it a firm squeeze- something he had been dying to do since she wore her first cleavage revealing shirt to class. She whimpered in pain and drew back from his touch, but her lips never left his. "I'm sorry," he said raspingly with a smirk. Both hands now went to the sides of her shirt and jerked it over head, slinging it to the floor. Without hesitation, he went back to groping her delicious curves. Finding the clasp to her mesh black and white polka dotted bra in the front, he undid it eagerly. The young professor pushed the material away, revealing firm perfectly sized breasts that fit his tastes to a tee with peaks hued in dark chocolate. He couldn't help but run his hands over both of them and squeeze them harshly even though he knew it caused her pain. Her whimpering only excited him more. He pulled away from her lips and traveled down to her chest where his tongue rolled over nipple just before taking the tiniest little nibble. She could feel herself growing wet even though she wanted to be disgusted. As he sucked away at her other breast, she felt his hands undoing the button and zipper of her jeans. He tugged the worn dark denim and began to kiss her toned lower abdomen and mound through the matching panties. He pulled the jeans off, leaving her exposed in the drafty room. Her skin, the delicious color of milk chocolate brown with a unique glowing golden undertone, had never looked more radiant. This split moment gave him just enough time to take in her long slender frame. She was taller than he had realized, only a few inches shorter than him -5"7 or 8. And though a 5 day a week workout and healthy diet concealed it quite well, he noticed her to be a little pear shaped, carrying the majority of her weight in her hips, thighs, and ass. Still she couldn't have been more than a size 4 or 6.
Dr. Doherty, having always been more keen on nice haunches yanked her off the wall, and towards his desk in his moment of utter carnal desire. She felt the back of her thighs hit the edge and he pushed her down as he viciously undid the buttons on his shirt half way and then pulled it over his head. He had 4 more tattoos adorning his medium build- 1 on his left pectoral, 2 mirror ones on the front sides of his hip, and another on his shoulder. All of them were in black ink and only added to his physique. He would have been her ideal body type, not too muscular, but toned and defined.
"Someone must have been expecting some company today," he said as his fingers discovered the unexpected smoothness of her most intimate area.
She looked away in embarrassment and murmured, "I wax," remembering the pain she endured during Girls' Spa Day last Saturday with her friends.
A flash of teeth appeared on his face only to patronize her more as he slowly began to run his hand over the length of her slit now. "Well they did a grand job."
Elaine's eyes focused on a paper clip on the tightly woven, institution gray carpet. Her concentration was broken as she felt 2 fingers slip inside her, making her gasp while his thumb simultaneously massaged her clit up and down just the way she liked it.
"Is that your spot, Elaine?" he said kissing her cheek after a malevolent chuckle.
"No," she said restraining the urge to moan again. He applied a little more pressure to her clit now, rubbing a little faster. Her fingers gripped the edge of the desk and she bit down on her bottom lip, stifling her sounds. His free hand cradled the small of her back holding her squirming body close to him.
"Still not it?" his soft words facetious. Her panties were soaked now and her juices were dripping over his fingers sliding in between the cheeks of her ass. His fingers moved in and out of her tight pussy faster, keeping up with his thumb as it applied slightly more pressure to her now engorged clit.
"Mmm...no, no." she managed to say as her head fell back in ecstasy, but still trying to fight the growing, immense sensation between her legs.
"Liar," he breathed onto her lips.
Her body began to tense and her face got hot. "Ohhhhh, mmmmm, Ohhhh, yess!" she moaned loudly as the orgasm worked its way up through her stomach and out every inch of her spasming body. Elaine relaxed and breathed deeply, her eyes opening to see him watching her with a smug grin.
"You look lovely when you're
cumming," Doherty said slipping his pants and boxer briefs off his waist. His cock was already throbbing and stiff. It was quite ample in size and girth, She was honestly, quite taken aback at his manhood and the fact that he took the time and consideration to trim. Wait, what was she saying, she couldn't possibly enjoy this, he was still a monster- a monster that had given her an amazing orgasm, but a monster nonetheless.
Noticing her dazed countenance, he joked arrogantly. "Can you believe this nob actually posed as a problem for me when I was on the swim team?"
He yanked her up quickly and spun her around before she had time to say anything. Several ringlets of hair flew into her face and stuck to her lip as she moaned loudly while he shoved all 9 inches of himself deep inside her. She hadn't been with anyone that big- actually, anyone at all- in a long time. He could tell she was a good girl from how the walls of her pussy gripped his dick as he moved himself in and out slowly, giving her muscles a chance to relax. With a strong hand, he pushed her further down towards the desk, allowing him more access. As he forced his hard, thick cock deeper, she winced.
"I'm sorry," he said stroking her toned back apologetically with one hand as the other massaged her firm ass. Soon, his hand slid around to her breast, cupping it between his thumb and index and squeezing it gently just before pinching her nipple. The jolt of the painful pleasure made her reach for the edge of the desk and she cried out. His cock began to pump in and out quickly, it now glistening with her flowing juices, and every now and then striking her deep and hard making her moan even louder and white knuckle the strong, but aged mahogany desk. He was glad everyone on the hall was gone now. Elaine found herself grinding against his own thrusts and he gripped her hips with both hands, his fingertips digging into her skin.
"Mmm, fuck, yes," he groaned as he let her take control. Her peach shaped ass looked more than tempting as it stroked his cock back and forth. Without thinking, he drew back his hand and it landed harshly on her cheek, the smack ringing in the office. As small shriek left her mouth and she jolted upward, her back now pressed into his chest as she continued to grind her pussy further on his cock. He wished he had a mirror so he could see her body in full glory. With free range, he began to massage her swollen clit with one hand and caress her bouncing tits. Her hand went to his neck and she moaned and cooed steadily and softly into his sticky skin. His head tilted and their lips pressed together passionately. She could no longer taste the cigarettes, or if she could she just didn't care. The sensation was too much and her knees felt like they were going to give away as she tried to pry his fingers away from her clit to no avail with her other hand.
"Cum for me again," he directed softly as his lips brushed against her own. Not being able to squirm away, she ended up grinding harder against him and his cock. His arms gripped her tightly and the rubbing of her throbbing button intensified.
"Oh, oh, oh, fuck, yes," she moaned as she came, the sensation flooding through her like electric waves. He held her quivering body to him closer, the sweat dripping between their skin. The contractions of her pussy around his dick combined with his deep thrusting and her satiated whimpers sent him over the edge moments later. His fingertips dug into her hips and ribs as he erupted inside her with a grunt. His body collapsed against hers, holding her there until he was soft, and slipping his member out of her swollen vagina, causing a large drop of semen to dribble down to the carpet. He kissed her temple and pulled away, their skin peeling apart like a sticker and its backing. Embarrassed and ashamed, she shielded her body as she walked to the bathroom picking up her purse and undergarments along the way. Being one of the older buildings on campus, some professors were lucky enough to have one in their office.
She frowned and her nose crinkled as she looked down at her enlarged privates, she'd be sore tomorrow for sure. The cum slid out with a small push and she peed. It already hurt. 30 minutes meant 2 days of pain, the logic of fairness was unbeknownst to her. She wiped her body down with a wet paper towel, and gently washed her vagina with a little soap and water, but his scent of cologne and cigarettes still lingered heavily on her skin and hair. This would suffice until she could take her shower of shame at home. When she came out the bathroom he was already dressed, and smoking a cigarette. She couldn't bear to look him in the eye.
"See, not so bad, right?" He said, watching her put on her jeans. She pretended not to hear him and found her cami and cardigan. "I know this isn't my policy, but here you go," he said placing some paper on his desk close to her.
"What's this?" She asked still jaded and tying her wrap tightly.
"Your midterm," he said smashing half a cigarette in the ash tray. His syllabus plainly stated in bold letters, "exams will not be returned see professor for review of your exam." A big circled 97 in fire engine red stared back at her. She threw the paper back at him and would have cried had she not been so numb.
"Why would you do such a thing?" She said through clenched teeth.
"Elaine," he said after finally releasing all of the smoke. "I've been wanting to do that," he said pointing weakly at the invisible scene that took place on the edge of his desk "to you since I saw you last fall in the gym. Knowing you, I wouldn't be able to just ask you out for a date without being rejected, so, I had to come up with another plan." He began to chuckle, "And it worked... brilliantly."
She shook her head and picked up her satchel, her pride and esteem shot, "You're an asshole," she said as she opened the door to his office. The hallway was deserted and that was good because at the time she felt she couldn't look anyone in the face.
"Cheers and see you in class on Wednesday," he said as if she were just another student. As the door shut behind her, and the fluorescent lights of the hall left the office, he was already devising a plan to see her again.
|
Holly finished her first semester being an undergrad at Stanford this spring, needing a summer job. It was mid-May, and she and her friends hung out at her mom's house, which was fun, but when you're at this age, you need freedom from your parents. Her friend Rebecca told her she saw on Snapchat a local doctor was looking for a live-in housekeeper for the summer.
Dr. Lewis was very wealthy and owned a huge house in a suburb outside San Francisco. She went for an interview, being accepted out of the ones who applied. She thought the pay was quite a lot for that type of work. However, she was allowed to stay a few days. If she didn't like it was free to decline with an entire month's pay, a definite win-win.
The day arrived for her to move in; Dr. Lewis had never married, being too busy becoming a doctor. He showed her the upstairs bedrooms and meeting rooms, then took her downstairs to view the living area den and double walk-in bathroom rooms, which were better than anything she had ever seen.
The house has a total of four bathrooms, and an in-ground pool, three car garage, among other possessions. He showed her the duties, timetables, locations of supplies, and payment procedure.
Dr. Lewis was Chief Surgeon at a rather large suburban hospital for the last ten years, the longest-standing black surgeon. There was also a gardener, an older white man who lived in his own lodging on the property; she didn't have many chores; she kept things up, dusted, vacuumed, looking nice.
23-year-old Holly has an Ectomorph body, slim-boned, long-limbed, lithe, supple, with very little body fat and muscle relative to her height and is relatively linear.
People with an ectomorph body type can find it difficult to add muscle or even increase body fat.
She being a petite white female 5-foot 4 inches frame, a slim build, long light brown hair that flows down her back, Olive-white skin, and one hundred and seven pounds with C-size breasts. She had nice size brown nipples, unusual for her body type. She was proud of her 32-22-32 figure, which made her the envy of all her friends.
Dr. Lewis was an average man; he was 6'4 weighed 210 pounds. His salt and pepper hair he wore thin, neatly lined. Judging by his slender waist and covered frame inside his dress shirt. From the first sight of Dr. Lewis, Holly thought he was a handsome and distinguished-looking older black man.
Dr. Lewis introduced himself, saying you can call me Troy.
Responded, "Ok, Troy, it is. I have a nickname all my friends use, muffin."
He thought it was a perfect name for such a voluptuous female.
She asked if she could use the pool.
Of course, everything here you can use, along with your friends.
She came back 30 minutes later, asking how she looked.? Holly was dressed in a thin yellow & pink string bikini. She was stunning with an ample little bottom, and she had a fat little pussy for such a small frame that actually did look like a muffin.
He whistled without thinking, clearing his throat and saying, "You look great."
This pleased her very much; she shyly looked down, whispering thankyou; then walked away towards the pool area, shaking her gorgeous booty on the way.
Dr. Lewis headed off to work, saying he was staying overnight for the rest of the week.
After dinner, she spent the evening texting her girlfriend Rebecca while watching television and playing on her laptop. She met Becky while in biology, a friendship developed, and thus they began studying together. She got up the following day, cleaned, and took care of her duties before lying out by the pool. Becky couldn't believe the house and kept commenting on how lucky she was. They spread lotion on each other's tan lines and painted each other's toes and nails.
The rest of the week seemed to be a similar scenario with her working in the mornings and swimming in the afternoons while sometimes her other friends visited, on some occasions only Rebecca.
Late Sunday night, with only skimpy white panties, Holly went to the kitchen for something to eat and had the refrigerator door open with sandwich-making food on the counter.
Troy sleepily bumped right into her when he walked inside the kitchen with only thin pajama pants on. He was stunned to see his live-in housekeeper in tiny white panties, topless. He quickly placed his hands up to cover his eyes and embarrassingly apologized.
"I am sorry; I will return to my room until you're finished."
"No, don't you worry about it? It's my fault.' 'I couldn't sleep and was bored and came out to see what was good to eat.' 'Don't be embarrassed, I'm not," was Holly's response; "go ahead; there's room for two," smiling and a soft giggle.
Two things stood out, his cock, which was massive and stiff. It had stuck out through the slit in his pajama bottoms. Clearly, he was excited.
Two, Holly's soft brown titties; seemed like a beautiful painting caught on a canvas. Her nipples stood majestic, the proud members of her femininity.
Dr. Lewis had seen many naked women in his time; however, holly's body beat them all.
Holly stood there mesmerized for a moment, trying not to stare at that fantastic manhood muscle. "Boy, could that do some damage to a woman's vagina, said in her subconscious."
He was unaware his cock was swinging free, captivated by the view before him.
She hadn't noticed a previous connection but then started to get that flutter in her abdomen when Troy walked up, gently brushed her hair out of her eyes, and whispered, "Do you know you are a beautiful woman," You are carefree, so wonderfully full of life.
She listened, honestly anxious but curious, and couldn't take her mind or eyes off his huge shaft pressed against the skin of her belly.
He continued, " I'm just going to say it; work is rewarding, but I recently needed something to relax before I go into the many complex surgeries. I thought about medications, and there are relaxation therapies for sure, but there's nothing like a female pussy to get the job done for any hot-blooded American male.
Then he gave her a gentle kiss and used his hand, putting them directly on her nipples. " I love these."
That was it. Hollie's nipples were among the most sensitive parts of her body. She should have stopped what was happening right then but couldn't resist. Maybe it was because he was a mature, knowledgeable, charming, attractive man, or perhaps it was because he was a hospital specialist. Was she mesmerized by the prestige, or maybe because he had such a big cock. She doesn't know exactly what it was, but a combination of all these factors caused her to give in to his appeal.
They started kissing while his hands grasped her breasts, then she started stroking his cock, which she noticed was circumcised. Holly was nervous but knew she wanted that big dick in her.
He picked her up, carrying her in his strong arms in a cradle; she held onto his black cock as if she were being taken to a pleasure palace. Troy laid her down on the large plush rug on the hardwood floor.
As he began to pull off the only thing between her and the start of an adventure, she paused to make several suggestions. "First, I am not on birth control; they get my system all out of whack.' 'Second, I'm not too fond of condoms; the plastic gives me a rash down there; third, I don't believe in abortion and will not take the morning after pill nor any other form of contraception."
If we fuck, it is you risking everything, or there is no fucking, and if you don't like that kind of thing, we stop right here.
"I accept all your conditions without exception; we will risk it all," Dr. Lewis said.
He had nothing to lose and everything to gain, a beautiful young undergrad who would get him relaxed before critical events "might" get pregnant, and he "might" be financially responsible for their child? It was a win-win scenario in his mind.
She was on her back while Troy was on his side; he moved over her body and pointed his massive tool at her pussy lips. The initial penetration. Would it fit? Would it hurt? Those were just a couple of questions that kept running through her mind.
He rubbed the bare head of his cock on her clit, which felt incredible with all the tingling she had been feeling. When he pushed his fat cock past her labia, she felt it stretching. Holly's pussy was being widened further than ever before and was also painful. It was twice as big as any boyfriend she ever had, longer and thicker.
Holly squirmed from the discomfort; Troy whispered, "You will be okay, my sweet, just relax."
She groaned, "It's so big. It's too big; pull it out, please pull it out!"
But the doctor knew the female anatomy, understanding how vaginas stretch. He pushed in six inches nonstop, then held it still until her vaginal grands sent oil to relieve the pain and acclimate to the invader's girth.
She wiggled around, trying to get him to pull it out.
It wasn't because he was insensitive, but all other women have said, pull it out; then, after he got it in, they would bounce on him like his cock was nothing. All he could think was how amazing this pussy muscle was.
It just needed a little workout, thinking of the old adage, no pain, no gain.
Withdrawing slightly and then going back in a little further each time. She had never felt so full when he finally had every inch buried inside her puss. The word "stuffed" flashed through her mind. He was very slow as he moved his cock in and out while they began kissing again.
She yelled, "Oh, really trying to put a hole in me? Then softly said, but it hurt so wonderful."
He was working it deep inside her pussy. She slowly opened her legs to give that monster a better downward stroking angle. He knew she was beginning to spread to fit him. Troy pumped slightly faster; she started to like the tool filling her up. Lubricating oil oozed out of her pussy's glands. Her body was trying hard to slicken things up.
"Oh, no. Just like that. You're making it cum. Yes! " Was all Holly could groan.
He whispered, "Do it muffin, orgasm baby."
Holly moaned long and deep throughout the first of many to come.
This well-hung 11-inches was doing things to her pussy that no man had ever done. Being older, he could hump and pump with a steady rhythm nonstop, so much so that not long after her first one ripped through her body, she began moaning again, "Oooooh. Augh Oooooh," in another lust-driven orgasm rumbled through it again. It felt so good!
Now Holly wanted that cock to assault her vagina; despite being stretched to the max, she ordered, "Do me hard. Fuck me harder, take this pussy, make it yours!"
Troy did just that, pumping faster; She felt his large hanging balls slapping against her with each thrust, balls deep. She grit her teeth taking all the cock he offered.
She was going to have a big one. Saying, "Oh please, I want to cum, use me, make it hurt good, harder, deeper, you beautiful black, oh, oh." Holly's legs began to tremble when the most powerful orgasm tore through her pussy. She screamed loudly out of control during the spasm-like climax. It was like electric waves shuddering out of her vagina. Holly never knew sex could feel so wonderful.
She whispered to the doctor, "I want you to do me, doggie."
flipped herself over on her knees, he slid himself back inside that soft pussy. He held onto her hips and began to pump her soft booty again.
"Oh my. Oh, no! Keep going! Just like that, don't stop. Oh, Oh. Oooooh!" She spasmed on his pulsating member.
Holly ordered Troy, "Cum in my pussy. Please do it! Fill me up with your warm load. Spray my vagina walls with your thick spunk. Please, don't you dare keep me waiting."
All her filthy words tipped him over the edge. Dr. Lewis held onto her hips and slammed into her pinkish white booty, "Oh Fuck! Oooooh, I'm Cuming with you, baby.
He heaved his hips upward, causing her ass to rise up off the rug, into his pelvis, blasting an enormous wad of cum in her. The first shot struck her in the back of her fuck hole. It caught her off guard. Surprisingly, his second surge was just as large as the first. When he finished shooting, Holly pulled her hips off his dick, which felt like she had a pussy full of warm vanilla pudding. Sperm was oozing down her thighs, spattering on the posh rug.
"There was so much cum it's causing your black dick to look like a white one," Holly said in laughter.
He laughed, "Saying I'll have the Gardner take the rug to the cleaners in the morning."
They both went to bed in their separate rooms sleeping satisfied.
Monday came with life returning to as routine as possible; Dr. Lewis would spend most of the week at the hospital's doctor's overnight room for emergency on-call staff.
One afternoon She got a text from the doctor needing a big favor. It told her that she was to act as his niece's friend, to bring him his doctor's bag, supposedly having his computer and important papers.
After texting back to verify, she was sent to Dr. Lewis's office; the secretary alerted her she was coming and allowed her into the doctor's lounge building.
She was buzzed in.
He welcomed her in but worriedly, "Thank you, muffin, for coming. You look lovely. I only have about 30 minutes.' 'I have work to do on a spleen on a significant State official to perform, and I'm very anxious.' 'If there is the slightest mistake, they might be paralyzed for life. ' ' It's been a nonstop emergency kind of day; I need to relax and hoped to see you."
She calmed him down, saying, "Put it in me; there's not much time."
He lifted her sundress, pulling her panties down. He lubricated his cock, working it in Holly's pussy in no time, but was slow and methodical.
She pulled off; then threw her panties on an office chair, ordering Troy to sit on the room's couch. She stood up, straddled his lap, lowered herself on his black dick, and rode it like a horse. Saying, "That's it, my black stallion, you're getting broken-in today." She stripped her dress and bra off with her gorgeous titties bouncing up and down.
She was naked in a physician's lounge room fucking cowgirl and taking the doctor balls deep.
He sucked her titties as she swayed up and down on his black dick.
Holly huffed while she rode Dr. Troy's black pecker, "I'm going to have an orgasm; please cum with me, shoot it in my nasty muffin!"
"This time, you'll get knocked up; I have been monitoring your monthly cycle. You're ovulating the next few days; are you sure?"
As she was about to answer.
He hunched up, shooting a glob of sperm in her 23-year-old belly.
She slammed down, shaking, and with short pumps, she climaxed, yelling, "Oh no, you better not be trying to impregnate me, you nasty thing." Pregnancy talk was getting them both off.
Thank goodness these rooms are soundproof.
When they were finished, she laughed. "Did you really check out my monthly cycle?"
"No, I just said that, knowing it would get you off," figuring she had a pregnancy fetish.
She jumped up and fixed her dress, cum running down her thighs, got a tissue from her purse, patted her legs, shoved it in her panties to hold it in, and headed out the door.
Dr, Lewis was getting prepped for surgery; thank goodness his anxiety was gone.
The surgery went well; the patient fully recovered, and the doctor received accolades for his technical ability.
Augusts arrived; how did the time go so fast? Holly had made good money taking care of DR. Lewis's house and his anxiety problem.
Undergrad classes were to begin the following week.
One afternoon she was seated on the couch looking over this semester's itinerary. With her course curriculum and class schedule, Holly thought she would not have time to devote to the doctor's needs. She couldn't leave during a lecture or exam so easily without an emergency; even though they were, there was no way to explain the importance of her relationship with the doctor.
Then the thought occurred to her exchange students, ones she thought would appeal to Troy and be able to meet his needs; they could stay here, of course, free of charge and give her the time she needed to pursue her career.
Holly set out the goals; she'll need at least two, over 21 years old, birth control and the morning after a must, an unformal document for them to sign, and sexual instructions. She figured French girls would do anything. No blondes: she did not get along with them. And she would have to do all this without him knowing until she had all the kinks worked out.
Then she laughed out loud; "Oh no, am I setting up a brothel?' 'But no, this is serious and a win for everyone involved," she would make sure of that.
Another month went by. Holly had it all set up and was going to explain it to him while fucking his brains out; she knew he would say no. However, her pussy was a solid persuasive tool, and with secrecy assurance, would he have a choice?
Last week the doctor had spent most of the time at the hospital; this week, he began his vacation, informing her he would be going to Rome for a few weeks.
"Okay," she responded, "you know I have school, class, and homework to keep me busy."
By late Monday night, he was all packed and ready to go.
0100 am Holly sneaked into his bedroom, crawled under the sheet, grabbed his cock, and bobbled it up and down with Vaseline in her tiny white hands.
"That's it, Muffin. Dr. Troy wants you to give that big dick some pussy. Go ahead, get it in there," He sighed with that smooth baritone voice.
With her hands on his shoulders, she positioned herself on his lap, moving above the top of his erection. They kissed as she worked her lips down to his neck. Holly knew this cucumber-sized cock would hurt like it always did, but at that point, she needed it inside her persuasive pussy. It was time to get down to business and pleasure? Holly squatted until the massive head scrunched its way into her love box. With her jaw clenched, she pushed down more weight, causing the black cock to force itself into her.
"Oh my God, it is so fat! I can't believe it. It hurts; please give me time to get used to it," she pleaded. She could take long, but wide too was tough to start with.
To be honest, they did not have sex that often, maybe once a week; they were both so busy, causing her pussy to shrink to the usual size, especially since school started.
Holly used her leg muscles and began to ride up and down on his dick, just trying to build up her natural lubrication. It worked as the pain subsided; the friction felt good. She was now fucking Dr. Lewis, who cocked his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying this tight vagina gripping his manhood.
She bounced with more distance and force; fueling him to talk more vulgar, "Ride that black dick, you sweet thing. You are working it so good. You got one tight little juicy cunt. You know that?"
Filthy talking wasn't his thing; it was hers; this caused her to roll play more than ever before. That feels good, you nasty black man." oooooh.' 'I'm riding your big horse meat.' 'My pussy is going to milk it.' 'How dare you take advantage of a young white woman's pussy, fucking it the way you do, you brut?"
Even though she was the one doing the hard fucking.
"Didn't you tell me to give you some time and that your pussy was too small for me to pull out, wiggling," Troy asked teasingly.
Swooshing her hair back and forth, she screamed, "Oh my Goodness! I'm Cuming! OooooO. oh, " as an orgasm ripped through Holly's body from her hands to her feet.
" Oh no, I can feel your pussy twitching. You go, baby girl. Get you some black dick," he shouted.
Suddenly she stopped moving, positioning herself over to the side, allowing the spoon position; she lifted her leg, telling him to put it back in.
Troy did, then he tried to deep pound, hunching on her pink booty.
However, she only allowed half of his cock in; she said, "I have an idea that helps the both of us;" he wasn't really listening, just off the edge of an earth-shattering orgasm.' 'Holly timed it just right, using her pussy to manipulate him.' 'After saying the whole thing, she stopped moving, asking if it was okay.
To which he said yes quickly.
She rolled over onto her stomach, demanding he gets on top.
He moved atop her while she guided his dick back home in her fuck box.
It only took a few minutes screwing this way rhythmically; Holly screamed, "Don't stop. Don't you fucking dare stop! I'm going to...OH! Oh yes! oooooO. Augh, cum, please with me. Cum in my pussy...Yes!" she moaned during her orgasm.
Hearing and feeling her cum, sent him to new heights. He pinned her legs against his hips tight and down in the bed, unloading like he was breeding an "in heat" female. Saying," This baby jism is going to bake my baby into your belly."
Right now, this very minute.
This fueled her.
She yelled," knock this fucking whore pussy up, swell up my belly like I want.' 'Make me grow a baby." Holly orgasmed again, shaking and trembling.
Whooo, that was good as Troy rolled off.
She said, "I am glad you like my idea."
He said, what Idea?"
Holly looked at him with a sly demeanor.
He laughed, "Okay, you got me, and I trust you to do anything you put your mind or idea to." He kissed her. They lay together that night for the first time.
|
John loved Alexis's big brown breasts and seeing them in front of him as she lay there on the bed in the motel room, his mouth watered. He kept his face buried between her brown athletic thighs licking her sweet wet pussy, but moved both hands up and squeezed the big mounds of flesh with those fucking hard long nipples. She held her hands over his and squeezed them even harder as she lifted her pelvis up into his face as he sucked her cunt. Her tits were the biggest John had ever felt in real life. He loved the fact that they were so big and round and dark, and that it both of his two hands to surround one of them completely.
But as his mouth enjoyed the taste of Alexis's wet pussy, his hands tried to cover as much of both her breasts as they could. She was helping by holding her hands over his and squeezing them hard against her chest. She moaned and was thinking, "God what he does to my pussy with that fucking magical tongue. OH!! Jesus it feel so good!"
John was having a great time watching his hands work on those big boys from between Alexis's legs. He was looking over her shaved mound and playing with those large tits but remembered that his mouth had to continue to make love to Alexis's pussy. He moved his lips over her open hole now and began to tongue fuck her. His head moved and he began to lick, and then suck and then suck much harder on her pussy. He took each cunt lip and pulled it gently with his teeth. She loved it and told him, "Oh yes john! Your mouth makes me so hot! I love what you do to my pussy with your lips and tongue baby! Keep going! I want you to taste my cum again! I'm almost there baby! Just…a…little..moreee!! Oh yes John! Oh yes baby! That's it! That's it! Ahhhhh! Yessssssssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Suckkkkkkkkkkkk meeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Alexis was thrusting her lower body up into John's mouth cumming and climaxing against his wonderful tongue as he used his hands, mouth tongue and lips to satisfy her need to be eaten.
While Jon continued to squeeze and play with Alexis's big breasts, she had moved her hands off of his now and had placed them on John's head. She told him again how good he was making her feel, eating her cunt like the devil he was. He changed positions now and moved his hand down her body and reached between her legs. He cupped Alexis's cunt squeezing and almost lifting her further up on the bed. He gripped her snatch hard and she moaned as he held her between her legs and squeezed her wet cunt! He said, "I need to fuck you Alexis I need to fuck you bad."
He felt her shiver as he held her tight between her legs. She said, "Oh John what… what are you doing? Please put your mouth back down there! Eat me baby! Finish me."
He didn't say a word but moved up and took his big hard on and pushed the head of his cock against her open wet hole. She said again, "OH John wait…wait John! Finish eating me first please! Please baby! Put your mouth back over my pussy and eat me first. The fuck me!
But he didn't listen to her, John pushed and his cock went into her hole about an inch. She looked up at him as he began to fuck her seriously as his cock moved all the way into her hole now. With his cock buried in Alexis's cunt, he began to pump away. He told her, "I need to do this now Alexis! I need my cock in your pussy now! Don't worry baby! I'll still suck your pussy for you. But I need to fuck you now or I'm going to explode."
She held him and kissed him and told him, "OH John I didn't realize baby! I can feel how hard and thick you are Oh yes John fuck me baby! Cum in my pussy fill it! Oh yes John! OH YES!! You fell so good, so good!"
John continued to ram his big hard cock into Alexis's stretched pussy. Alexis's her cunt held his cock and squeezed it as he pushed it into her again, and again. She watched him and knew he had a need, a very bad need. She started to show him what a black woman can do to relieve your needs. She started to fuck John like he had never been fucked before. He felt her moving under him now and moaned and said: "OH yes Alexis! Fuck me baby! I'm so hard and need to fuck so bad!"
As more and more of his cock went into her pussy, she moaned: "Oh John! I love this! I love this so much baby! Fuck me John! Fuck me slow and easy and fuck me for a long, long time! I need fucking too baby! I want your cum to fill me up again! Do it John fuck me wild baby!"
She pushed up into him and all of his cock went into her cunt! Now as she fuck him she took all of the thick white cock into her dark pussy hole! Once she had him all the way in, she began to slowly rotate her hips and thrust her pelvis up into him as she rock around in circles under him. He bent down and kissed her as he worked her pussy pumping in his thick cock! Not hard, and not fast, John was going slowly now wanting this fucking to last as long as he could make it! He felt so hard inside her hole and he knew she loved it!!
John watched her face smile and her tits bouncing up and down with the motion of his cock going in and out of her pussy. As she fucked him back she told him: "Put your cock all the way inside me baby! And don't move! Lay still! Let me do the work! I want this to last as long as we can make it! Slow and easy baby! I'm going to fuck you slow and easy! Muuuu it feels so good buried as deep as you can go! So fucking good John, your cock feels so big and hot inside my wet pussy baby! I love the way we fuck John!"
John smiled and pushed his cock all the way into her. Then he held it there not moving. He could feel her pussy walls so smooth and wet holding him tight. This beautiful dark woman slowly fucked him back and forth, back and forth. Alexis rocked her body up into him as John watched his cock slip in and out of her sex! She seemed to float under him as she moved her hips making small tight circles around on his cock. God he loved the way she was fucking him! She was getting him harder and harder as she pumped her hips and moved her cunt on his cock. Every move made it better and better for him.
Every once in a while he would bend in and kiss her fucking her mouth with his tongue. Every once in a while John would bend his head up or she would hold one of her tits up to his mouth so he could suck her nipples! His hands came up and cupped her breasts as she pumped on his cock! She had her eyes closed now and was just moving and rotating her hips making her pussy slip and slide around on John's cock! His shaft was only moving 2 or 3 inches in and out of Alexis's pussy but the way she was moving was so hot and special John moaned with almost every movement. She was without a doubt the sexiest black woman he had ever known in his life! It was one fantastic feeling and sight!
John had never been fucked like this before, and he loved it! His cock felt huge! GOD! He wanted to thrust it into her again and again and ram her cunt as he screamed and shot his load. But every time he began to pump her, she would stop fucking him and tell him to stay still! They had been doing this now for at least 40 minutes, maybe longer. Both of them had lost all track of the time. John saw her open her eyes and said: "Come baby! Cum for me now. I have to pump Alexis! I can't stand not moving when my cock is buried in your tight pussy. I have to pump! I have too! OH GOD! Come on Alexis! Let me fuck you!"
She smiled and told him: "Not yet John not yet baby! This feels too good! You don't had to do anything but keep that big thick cock hard for me! Keep it in my pussy all the way please! Just a few more minutes please!"
John moaned and tried. After a few more minutes Alexis said: "OH GOD!! NOW JOHN! NOW FUCK ME WITH ALL YOU HAVE! HURRY!!"
He pulled out teasing her now and dropped his body down her body until his mouth was back over her cunt. She cried out, "NO!! NO JOHN FUCK ME! FUCKK ME NOW!"
He didn't listen his mouth and tongue felt to nice licking her pussy as it had stayed opened from John's thick hard cock being in it for so long! He rubbed and licked her until she couldn't stand it any longer. As he watched her body rock on his hands he knew he was really getting to her and she would cum for him again! She finally moaned and told him: "Oh fuck! Oh god baby you make me feel so dam good! Come on John I have got to have you back inside me baby! OH god John! I want your big cock inside my pussy! NOW BABY! NOW!"
John was so hard and so worked up himself with passion and desire he couldn't wait either! He had to fuck now! She told him: "Fuck me! Fuck me all night! Oh John! I love you fucking me! It's so good baby! Fuck me good John, and make me cum again! Fuck me over and over!"
As she whispered those words in his ear, she felt him put his extremely hard cock into her hole with one thrust. She moaned as she reached down between their bodies and wrapped her index finger and thumb around the shaft of his big cock as far as they would reach. She wanted to feel how wet and slippery he was as he continued to pump into her! She moaned when she felt his cock covered with her sex juices. Her juices had coated his thick shaft and with her orgasm producing her cum, he was gliding in and out of her tight hole with a very nice fast motion now.
Humping his hips he was moving like a piston as he fucked her! He was really enjoying how smooth her cunt walls felt as there was just enough friction driving him on to fuck her harder. She was smooth and narrow and his cock fucked her with long hard strokes. Alexis was in dreamland now, with John's big cock pumping her body fucking her hard! She didn't care where he did it or how he did it, as long as he kept doing it!! She only knew she wanted John to fuck her for the rest of his life! All she wanted in her life at this minute was his big, thick, hard, red cock all the way up inside her lustful body ramming her cunt again and again!
John took control now and he didn't fuck her slow and he didn't fuck her easy! He was way beyond that stage. His body was so full of lust it scared him a little. He had never felt like this before. He could have raped her if she didn't want him! And, he would have too! He couldn't help it his brain was his cock, fucking was all he could think of! But Alexis had worked him up so bad she knew he was in a bad way and she knew she was going to please him all night long! His hips began to pump and pump his cock harder and faster into her body, again and again and again! She cried out feeling all of him plunge and push into her body over and over again. She loved it! She fucking loved it!
He arched his back and pushed his ass hard shoving his cock down into her as their pelvis rammed together again and again. Shoving his cock all the way into her pussy many, many times, Alexis began to cry out with each thrust of John powerful hips. She was now moving towards her climax faster and faster. And then as an orgasm hit her body, John could felt her begin to cum. John removed her legs from around his body and moved them up higher in the air over her head! He placed one of her feet over each of his shoulders. She locked her ankles around his neck as they pumped into each other!
John held the sides of her hips by her ass and rammed his hard cock like a jackhammer into this dark beautiful woman! She arched her hips and tried to lift her ass to meet his stroke, but with her legs up this high she couldn't do much except feel and accept his big cock ramming straight down into her hole. She screamed out telling him: "Fuck me John! Oh John! Oh god baby! Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Fuck me hard! Harder!! Harder baby! Fuck me John! OH YES BABY! FUCK ME!!!!!!!!"
As she panted he continued to pump her body with all of his cock as hard as he could! He heard her said: "YES!! OH YES JOHN! Fuck me! Fuck me as hard as you can baby!! I want you to hurt me! Fuck me hard baby! Make me cum! I'm almost there sugar! OH FUCK!! OH YES JOHN!! HARDER BABY! OHH FUCKKKK! OH FUCKKKK!! OH FUCKKKK!!! OH FUCKKKKK! OHH FUCKKK!! YESSSSSS JOHNNNN! YESSSSSSSSSSS!! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YESSSSSSSSSS!!"
John was humping into her like a machine with everything he had now. His cock looked like a blur as it went in and out of her pussy, as she lifting their bodies up off the bed into the air with each of her own thrusts! He had never fucked so hard! He held her hips and just rammed his cock into her over and over and over and over again as she moaned and moaned! Alexis loved it! He was like one of those fuck machines that you see in the porno ads. Only with John you felt a human and that was much, much better to Alexis than any old machine! He just continued to pump into this woman's pussy fucking her like she had not been fucked in a very long time! Another few seconds and he was sure he would cum! But Alexis beat him to it! She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down as he kept pumping into her cunt. As John's mouth circled her huge long nipple, she shoved it into his mouth hard and rammed her pussy into his cock! He took as much of the big tit into his mouth and sucked as hard as he could suck! She sucked his cock with her cunt and tried to hold it there as deep as she could. Alexis cried out: "I'M CUMMING BABY! OH GOD!! OH YES JOHN!!! IT"S SO FUCKING GOOD JOHN! OH DON"T STOP! FUCK ME!! DON"T EVER STOP FUCKING ME!!! OHHH GODDDDD HERE I GOOOOO!!!! YES!!! OHHHH!!! OHHHHHH!!! OHHHHHHH!!!!!!! YES!!!!!!! AHHHH!!!! AHHHHHH!! AHHHHHH!! AHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! JOHN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
She went off like a rocket or some sex-crazed animal. She had never felt this worked up in her life. She was burning with lust for his cock now. John let her legs drop now and she lifted that dark ass up of the bed and fucked him like she was crazy! Hard and long she rammed her cunt on his cock!! She had reached many orgasms and many were back to back as she was fucking him now. In only a few seconds she had gone off three times and they still rammed into each other! John was amazed that he hadn't cum yet! He was happy about it but amazed that he could hold off this long!
Alexis lifted them so high up off the bed, when they came down they bounced half way up again! Her breasts pressed into his chest as she held him and fucked him like no woman had ever fucked him! A
As she came down from her last orgasm she was still humping her pussy on his extremely hard thick cock as he kept it buried all the way inside her. She was slowly coming down from a huge orgasm but because John still had his huge thick cock inside her pussy she didn't come down completely! Alexis's legs were wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck! She held John tight as she whispered: "Turn us over and let me fuck you baby! I want to make you cum!"
John slowly turned them over so he was on his back now with his big dick still up inside her cunt keeping his cock inside her. As he lay there on the bed Alexis sat up on top of him. She rocked back and forth adjusting her body and letting his cock adjust itself in her pussy. John was looking up at her beautiful body and they both could feel his cock jump with his excitement!
Alexis watched his cock going in and out of her body almost all the way. She bounced up and down feeling his wet, thick cock with the huge purple cock head rubbing along the walls of her pussy. She marveled at how her small pussy could accept such a thick hard thing like John's cock. But, she was glad it could. She moved up on the bed and as he lay there she smiled down and told him, "Now you're going to cum inside me John! And it's going to fill me and make us both feel so good baby! Are you ready to cum for your lady?"
He moaned as she rode his cock up and down. At one point just the tip of his cock was still inside her open pussy lips. She smiled and said, "watch as my pussy east your big dick. See how your hard cock disappears inside my hot pussy bay?"
John moaned again as he watched and began to stroke her cunt his hard fingers as she fucked him. She smiled and told him: "Come on baby fuck me and cumin my hot pussy. Coat me with your white cum and fill my pussy with it! Fuck me again! God John!! I love your cock!"
He smiled and said: "I love it too Alexis! But, baby! I love your pussy more!"
As she knelt between his legs fucking him, John continued to look at her body. She asked him: "Something wrong baby?"
He said: "No. I was just wondering if you would let me do something?"
She smiled and told him: "Anything! Anything you want baby! I'm yours!"
He smiled and told her: "I love your body Alexis from the first time I saw you at our association meeting I have always wanted to fuck your tits! I want to fuck your tits! I want to slide my cock between them and fuck them before I put it back into your pussy."
She smiled and pushed her large full breasts together saying: "Like this John! Do you want to fuck them like this?"
John moaned as she rolled off of him and laid on her back as he moved up over her stomach and straddled her tits with his knees. With a knee on both sides of her body he placed his thick cock between her tits and began slowly pumping it up and down as she held her tits tight together. His cock was sticky and let a trail of wet cunt juice in between her breasts.
It was such a fantastic sexy sight to see. Her dark body and his reddish/purple cock, which was very hard from his excitement, moving between her tits faster now making both of them excited! As he pumped up between those full tits, the head of his cock was close enough to Alexis's mouth now for her to lick! So he would push his cock up between her big tits and hold it there as Alexis's tongue licked out over the big purple head! Then he would move it back so he could pump some more. She told him: "GOD John!! Your cock looks huge! Bigger than it has ever looked! Put that big boy back in my pussy and make me cum! Oh come on John fuck me again!"
Even John was thinking he was bigger now! It must be her tits being fucked that made him so excited. As John pumped his cock up and down between her tits a few more times, she told him: "Pull my nipples baby!" He smiled as she held her breasts together and he pumped his cock between her big mounds. His fingers came down and he began to pull and rub her big long nipples, which got longer as he worked on them! She was smiling up at him knowing he was really enjoying this! As he continued to fuck her tits and pull on her nipples with his fingers she smiled and watched his big cock touch her lips and tongue! Finally after a few more minutes John felt like he was going to cum! He didn't know if he wanted to shoot a load all over her tits and face, or do what she asked and put his cock back inside her and cum in her pussy!
His lust took over and made the choice for him! He moved his cock out from between her full round breasts and slid it down her stomach leaving a wet trail of pre-cum and her pussy juices as he moved between her thighs again. He smiled at her as he licked and kissed her pussy a few times before guided his cock back to her wet waiting pussy hole!
She lifted up just a little as he inserted the head against her opening! She pushed as John pushed and the head and 6 inches went back into her! "Oh YES!!", Alexis moaned out as John pushed more and more of his big cock into her cunt! He slowly began to pump in and out of her as she lifted her ass and met his thrusts with her own! They both knew this fuck was going to be the best yet! They both worked hard, fast and it was very, very good!
John was deep inside Alexis now, ramming into her with all of his hardness! She humped and humped her cunt on his meat and both moaned and moaned as they fucked. Again and again John rammed into her beautiful body pleasing and filling her! He put his arms under her thighs and lifted them up putting her knees against her big tits. Than he began fucking down into her body like a piston! He was ramming her body with all the energy he had left inside him.
Alexis moaned and moaned as John fucked her so hard that it was pushing the air out of her lungs each time he pumped into her. He was close and Alexis knew it! She was working and squeezing the walls of her pussy as tight as she could get them, trying to hold his big cock deep inside her. This was making him even more sensitive as he slid his cock along the very smooth walls of her tightening pussy! She could feel his cock thicken even more now and she knew he was going to cum! She moaned and hissed up at him: "Oh yes baby! Cum inside me John! Fill me baby! I want all of your cum John! Fuck me faster and cum in me! Cum in Alexis's pussy baby!! Cum for me baby!"
She held her tits together and squeezed then showing him her hard long nipples as he worked in and out of her. She knew he loved her nipples almost as much as he loved her pussy! John felt like his cock was 20 inches long and 15 inches thick as his entire body wanted to cum! He had never wanted to cum so bad in his life! He fucked her with everything he had! He was seconds away from shooting the biggest load of cum in his life! Her cunt was so soft and so tight as she squeezed her muscles as hard a she could! John looked down and saw Alexis pushing her full tits together for him and this was all he could take! He cried out and began to cum! Oh god it felt so fucking good! John almost screamed like some animal with each shot of cum that he pumped into Alexis's beautiful dark body! Again and again his cock thumped and thumped as it pumped shot after warm thick shot of his cum into her lovely body!
Alexis moaned as she felt the first shot entered her body. She wrapped her legs around John and pulled him into her tight! As she felt him pump more and more of his juices into her filling her pussy completely, she cried out as her body rocked and pumped against his big thick cock. She had reached the start of her orgasm now and she kissed him hard as she held her body up almost off the bed! He filled her pussy completely with his cum and then she felt it running slowly down her pussy and into the crack of her ass and on to the bed. She held on to him as he finished her off with a huge hard thrust burying his cock as deep as he could push it into her sweet pussy.
They stayed like that for a long, long time. Her legs and arms wrapped tightly around his body and John holding her head up in his hands kissing her. She pulled her lips off of his and held his face as she looked in his eyes saying: "Oh John baby! Oh yes! I love how you fuck me! I love it so much!"
He kissed her and told her he loved fucking her too! After about 10 minutes he felt his soft cock slip out of Alexis's pussy. He was done now and so was she. As they lay on their sides kissing and touching softly and gently, John felt this was the best time to ask Alexis something! He said: "Alexis. When we get back to the city, I want you to move in with me. I want you with me all the time! What do you think about that idea?"
Alexis's smile was huge and she kissed him and told him: "OH John! OH GOD I would love nothing else baby! But I can't John. I'm married!"
As she talked telling him how bad she wanted to be with him and how much she loved the way he made love to her, she couldn't. She was married but she wanted too see him. She couldn't live with him but her husband was willing to let her have different men in her life. He had a medical condition which didn't allow to get hard very much at all now. And he was sure it was due to an accident he had 2 years ago. So he finally agreed to let Alexis have sex with other men as long as he knew about it and met them. Most of the times he would meet these men and maybe even watched her as she fucked them.
The only thing was, John would be the first white man she had ever been with since she had been married. But she would work that out with her husband. She would call John and the three of them would have dinner one night to discuss this different relationship and reach an agreement.
She assured John there wouldn't be a problem. They would work it out one way or the other because Alexis wanted to see John again and have his cock. She also wanted his mouth to eat her pussy again since the other men in her life didn't like doing that to her very much. That is except her husband who knew that was about the only way he could please her now. God she loved John's tongue almost as much as she loved his hard cock. He drove her wild when he ate her cunt.
If push came to shove, she would tell her husband that she was going to have this white man with or without his approval. But she was pretty sure he would accept it. After all he had accepted the other 2 men she already had in her life now. As long as she informed her husband and maybe even let him watch them she was sure he would accept John too, even if he was white.
John felt stunned. He had no idea she was married and was wondering what would happen when he met Alexis's husband for the first time. She told John that being white was not a problem to her, so why should it be a problem to her husband? She had decided now that she was going to fuck John again. She had always been honest to her husband but she was going to have John again one way or the other. She would give him no choice.
She kissed John and wrapped her hand around his soft cock and began to stroke it as they talked. John could feel his cock starting to slowly grow again! It wasn't just lust or passion this time making his cock big again! It was also a kind of love, love for a dark skin woman he had always wanted in his life. He would have been happy to worship her and make love to her every night and day if he could! He would suck her pussy and make sure he pleased her so she would never want any one else.
And, if they were happy after a 6-month period, he would have ask her to marry him! But he knew the best he could have was her body and some of her love but he would have to share her with her husband. John didn't know about the other two men. In fact none of the other en knew about the other ones since she never told them.
She began to feel his cock growing between them! She smiled and said: "John is that your big cock I feel growing up the side of my body? OH I hope so. I want to ride it again until I scream with a huge orgasm."
They rolled over and she straddled his hips. She sat up on him and he put his hands under his head and watched his beautiful dark skin woman begin to ride his semi-hard cock making it continue to grow as she started to fuck him again! As she rode up and down on him, his cock was almost fully-grown now. She smiled and said: "Every night baby, every fucking night we're going to do this! I'm going to make love to you every fucking night just like this! Oh - - John! Oh- - - GOD - - baby! I love your cock so much! Oh god!! Oh John you feel so good inside me! Oh fuck! I'm- - going- - to... going to… c..u..m!!!"
He moaned as he watched her bouncing up and down like a machine on his hard on! Moaning and throwing her head back, John watched her go crazy on his hard cock as she climaxed! He knew he had died and gone to heaven as he heard her cry out and climax on his thick hard cock! He would worry about all the rest when they got back home. Right now he didn't have to share her with anyone and all he wanted to do was to make love to her.
As he held her hips she continued to ride his cock leaking her cum over his cock coating it. She smiled and said to herself, "I'll tell Lee,(that was her husband), when I get home I have another man to fuck me. And with his approval I'm going to have John in my life so he can eat my pussy and fuck me."
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I'm 62 years old and to say I love sex is a huge understatement. I "crave" sex! I want to have sex every single day and usually two to three times a day, but I could have sex four to five times a day on some days. I can easily fuck for 2-3 hours nonstop. Unfortunately, I've never found a woman who wants sex as much I do. Sure I've dated women who want it that much at first, but as soon as the relationship starts to get serious, their sex drive changes almost immediately and not for the better. I just don't get it and so I set out on a mission to find women who "crave" sex just as much as I do and I was very surprised at what I found.
Over about a year period I did some in-depth research and found that I had been going after the wrong women. After all, I wasn't looking for someone to marry, just some of to fuck...on a regular basis. I'd previously been focused on women who I found to be very attractive when I should have been focusing on women who are NOT considered attractive by most men. Now, I'm not saying they're ugly, because they're not. They just aren't the women most men would go after. They are the women who have a little extra padding, not in great shape, a bit overweight, therefore they don't dress in a sexy manner and usually have a little lower self-esteem. Again, not bad, not ugly, not undesirable, just not what most men look for.
I completed my research and over the next six months I made a very concerted effort to find these women and as I did, I would casually start interacting with them. At first that may have just been a hello and a genuine smile and then I'd increase the interaction from there. I was extremely surprised at how well this worked. The first couple of women that I met and was able to create a friendship with, taught me that these women are extremely horny and borderline nympho sluts. They're just closet sluts because they've been overlooked by most men, but they really love to and want to be fucked and fucked deep and hard.
The first three women I created sexual friendships with included Michele, a 28 year old black women, Kiko, a 35 year old Japanese woman and Yasmin, my 45 year old sister-n-law. I know, Yasmin was very much a surprise to me as well, but I'll explain a little later. My focus was to create a sincere friendship with all of them that gradually became closer and more intimate. Yasmin and I were already very close, so I just had to get her to see me as a viable sexual partner for her and not let her sister know about it. The interesting part of all this is they all live within a mile of me, so we'd see each other quite often and the grocery store, gas station, department stores etc., so there were many opportunities to develop and grow our friendships.
Michele is about 5' 7" and I honestly think she has a nice body with huge 38DD jugs, but has a little extra padding. Many guys would not consider her beautiful because she was just average and not the sexy model type, but I was discovering that average women are extremely horny nympho sluts who love to fuck...I mean fuck like wild animals for hours. It took me about two months to get Michele in bed and when I did, she just about fucked me unconscious. She had been over to my house a few times during that eight week period, while my wife was at work of course, and we had gotten to the point where we played around a little with each other, hugging, kissing, touching and grabbing and there were a couple of times where she clearly wanted to get naked and fuck like animals, but I would find a reason why we couldn't. Of course I was just trying to make her sexually frustrated so that when we did fuck, she would lose all control and fuck did she lose control.
One day she came over and wore this tight knit dress, which accented all of her curves and big tits. I wanted to rape her the second I saw her and my cock got instantly hard as steel. She came in the house and gave me a hug and kiss and whispered in my ear.
"That's a very nice and very big hard cock you got there babe. Clearly he wants to fuck me and I'm very horny, so I'm fucking your brains out today! No fucking excuses. Prepare to be fucked unconscious."
I won't lie. I was a little scared. Michele took me back to my bedroom, stripped, stripped me and got on the bed with her legs spread wide open, revealing her absolutely gorgeous smooth waxed black pussy.
"HOLY FUCK MICHELE! I think you need to be prepared to be fucked unconscious! That's one gorgeous fucking bald pussy and I can't wait to bury my fuck pole deep inside you, but I've got to taste your amazing pussy first."
"Fucking devour my slutty pussy Mike! Fuck the hell out of my pussy! Fucking hell, rape me unconscious if you want! Just fuck me like I've never been fucked before."
I grabbed her legs, pulled her to the edge of the bed, got down on my knees and buried my face between her legs. I attacked her pussy like I was a starving man and I buried my tongue deep in her pussy and she rewarded me with one of the best tasting pussies I've ever eaten. I ate Michele's dripping cunt for almost an hour without coming up for air, including licking her beautiful asshole. She moaned and groan the whole time. I'd bring her close to explosion and then back off and did that multiple times. Finally she was close and she grabbed the back of my head and forced my face into her cunt and then squeezed her legs around my head.
"Take this you fucking teasing bastard!!"
Michele's nympho pussy exploded all over my face and in my mouth and she literally fucked my face for over ten minutes until her orgasm finally subsided. I thought I was going to be suffocated to death by her pussy or drown in her pussy juices, but then she let go of me and forced me up on the bed and aggressively mounted me.
"I'm going to fuck your cock off Mike. Let's just see how long you can last."
She grabbed my steel hard cock, lined it up with her pussy hole and slammed her body down onto my cock. It was all I could do to not explode deep inside her.
"You better fucking fill my cunt to overflowing with your hot creamy cum. I don't even care if you fuck me pregnant. I'll have your baby and then you can milk my huge milk jugs while you fuck my pregnant pussy. FUCK ME MIKE!"
"Don't worry baby. I'll happily fuck your slutty pussy pregnant just so I can milk your huge jugs. Get ready to be pregnant!"
After about thirty minutes of her riding me, I rolled her over and sat up between her legs and began ramming my huge white cock in and out of her amazing black pussy. She was screaming for more and watching my white cock disappear into her smooth black pussy was just too much and within minutes I erupted right into her cervix.
"OH MY GOD! You just came inside my cervix. You're really trying to fuck me pregnant."
"Fucking right I am! I'm fucking a baby in your slutty pussy today Michele. Once you have my baby, we're going to get both of your tits tattooed. One tit will have my name on it and the other tit our baby's name. You can breastfeed us both at the same time."
Michele grabbed me and rolled me over, my cock staying buried in her cunt, and we started fucking each other like crazed animals. Both of us were out of control at that point and we were basically raping each other. We fucked nonstop for four hours and she came ten times and I shot seven loads deep inside her cunt. When we were done, we collapsed into each others arms and just lay there exhausted. We finally got up, took a shower together and she left.
We've fucked two to three times a week since then and she became pregnant and gave me an amazing beautiful little girl and yes, we had her tits tattooed. I even fuck her while she's breastfeeding our little girl. Watching our baby suck Michele's huge tit makes me so fucking hard that my cock literally hurts. I just grab her and fuck her brains out until I explode deep inside her. Every time we fuck we basically rape each other to death. It's intense, almost vicious, but still erotic and sensual and romantic. Michele and I will be fucking each other like wild animals for many years to cum!! She's thinking it's about time for baby number two soon. She runs her own company and has hired a private nanny. She has no desire to get married, so we've agreed I will be her impregnator and she'll be my nympho slut. We have come to truly love each other and our arrangement.
Now Kiko was a complete different situation. She's 35, short, nice tight Asian body, with C cup tits, but again, just average looking to most guys, so they would look right past her. Kiko has been walking her dog by my house for a couple of years now and I've wanted to fuck her brains out since the first day saw her. Over time we got to a point where we'd say hi to each other and then began to chat with each other and became sort of friends/acquaintances. One very hot summer day I asked her if she'd like some water and we sat on the front porch and talked for about an hour. Kiko is married, but clearly wasn't getting what she needed or wanted from her husband. I sensed a mutual attraction between us, but had no idea how to get her in bed.
Then one day she came by with her dog and was limping. When I asked her what happened, she mentioned that she had tripped and fallen down a couple blocks back. She had on tight stretchy type shorts on, so I could see her banged up knee. I asked her to come in the house so I could clean it up and put a bandage on it. She agreed and we went into the kitchen and I pulled out my first-aid kit. I asked her if she minded sitting on my kitchen counter so I could clean her knee up and I grabbed her around the waist and helped her up on the counter. This put her almost eye to eye with me and I really got to see how beautiful, to me anyway, she was. I just stared into her dark eyes for a moment and then realized I was just staring at her.
"Everything ok Mike?"
"Oh! Sorry Kiko, let me get a wet towel."
"It's ok! You have beautiful baby blue eyes Mike. I hadn't notice how amazing they are, but they are amazing."
"Um, thank you."
As I cleaned up her knee, every few seconds we'd look right into each others eyes and smile. God I wanted to rape her right there on the counter and something told me she wanted me to as well. Touching her leg as I cleaned her knee up was amazing. Her skin as SO soft.
"Wow! Your skin is so soft Kiko."
"I put baby oil all over my body after every shower. It helps keep it soft. You like touching me?"
I was so caught off guard and made me really want to fuck her unconscious.
"Well, yeah, I mean sure, you feel very nice."
I sounded like a bumbling baboon. Without any warning or notice she grabbed my head, pulled me to her and kissed me deep, hard and long. Within seconds our tongues were buried inside each others mouth, exploring every centimeter. We just kept kissing and the next thing I know, I grabbed her in my arms and pulled her body into mine and she wrapped her legs around my waist. For over ten minutes we just sat there attacking each others mouths. I finely couldn't take any more and I slid one hand under her amazing ass and picked her up in my arms.
"Take me to bed Mike and fuck the hell out of me. Please!"
"OK!"
That's all I could say. I was both shocked and very turned on and scared. We almost tore each others clothes off and fucked for three hours nonstop. She came ten times and I dumped seven huge loads of cum deep inside her. It was like two sex crazed animals just going at each other with only one thought in mind, fuck the other unconscious. It was intense, almost savage at times, brutal and intensely passionate. When we were done, we just lay there, me on top of her with my cock still buried deep inside her bald Japanese cunt.
"Holy fuck Mike! That was amazing. I've wanted to be fucked like that for so long, but my husband only likes "sweet" love making. I need to be fucked hard and deep. Please let me keep coming over so we can fuck like this all the time. I love the way you fuck me! Please Mike!"
"Of course, Kiko! The number one rule is that we don't do something stupid and mess up either of our marriages."
"Agreed! I really do love my husband, but I just need to be fucked really good and he can't provide that."
"You are amazing and I'll fuck you good until you tell me not to, but I hope you never tell me that."
"Fuck another load deep inside me before I go home."
I fucked the shit out of Kiko that day. Kiko and I have fucked each other at least four times a week, every week from that point on. She stopped wearing a bra and panties on her walks and sometimes would wear short skirts to make it easy for me to slam my huge cock right up her dripping cunt. Not too long after we started fucking each other I found out she couldn't have children, so there was no issue with me dumping all my cum deep inside her raw pussy. At first I was disappointed when she told me and she could see it in my face, because I would have loved to fuck a baby inside her and I truly believe she would have let me.
I've even fucked her on my front porch when she wear her short skirts. I'd have my loose fitting shorts on and I'd pull out my steel hard cock and she'd just sit on it and fuck me till I dump a huge load in her. Sometimes she'd just sit on my cock, fuck me, I'd cum inside her and she walk off and finish walking her dog. We still fuck to this day and it gets really intense and almost vicious sometimes, but it's all about passion and pleasing each other. Kiko and I have fallen in love, but won't allow that to change our personal marriage situations.
Now for Yasmin! Obviously her being my sister-n-law, I was scared to death about fucking her. All she'd need to do is tell her sister, aka my wife, and I'd be screwed for life...NOT in a good way. But I wanted to fuck her for years. What I really wanted is to fuck her pregnant, but since she was quickly approaching 50, I knew that was very doubtful. We were already close friends and we hit it off the first time I met her. Now I truly and deep love my wife, I really do. She is an amazing woman, but some things have happened that took her sex drive away and thus the reason I haven't had sex in ten years.
There were times when they would have family get togethers and Yasmin would sit next to me, with her sister on the other side of me. Yasmin would be so close to me that our legs would be touching and after a short time we'd be rubbing our legs against each other. It was clear there was a sexual tension between us, but turning that into an actual sexual relationship was a whole other issue.
Over a short timeframe, Yasmin and I started hugging, a friend/family type hug, each other when we saw each other and her body felt amazing against mine. I started holding our hugs a little longer and noticed she didn't seem to mind it. That grew to me rubbing/patting her back and then quickly grew to me kissing her on the side of her head. At no time did she resist or ask me to stop, so I kept pushing the boundaries.
Then one Friday night we all went to her mom's house for dinner and at one point Yasmin went to one of the bedrooms, so I followed at a distance and went into the back bathroom. We wound up coming out at the same time and chit chatted a little we bumped into each other in a playful way and wound up grabbing each others hand. The funny thing was that neither of us let go. We just stood there and talked and held hands. My cock got so fucking hard it hurt.
As we talked we were looking each other straight in the eye and there was no doubt whatsoever in my mind that she wanted me to kiss her, so I did. Yasmin kissed me back and then pulled back quickly.
"Mike! We shouldn't have done that. I don't know what came over me."
"Maybe not, but it sure felt amazing. You're a great kisser Yasmin."
"Stop! We'll get in so much trouble."
"OK! After just one more kiss."
I pushed Yasmin up against the wall and kissed her hard and deep and she fought for a few seconds and then wrapped her arms around me and kissed me back just as hard and deep. Our kiss lasted about 2-3 minutes and it was amazing. Her mouth tasted so good. We finally broke it off.
"Oh shit Mike! Don't ever do that again. It's so wrong!"
"Is that why you are so flush? Because it's so wrong or because it was so good?"
"Damn you Mike! As amazing as it was, we can be doing that."
I went for it. I pick Yasmin up in my arms, pushed her against the wall and attacked her mouth. She did the same back to me. At one point I had her ass in my hands and I started squeeze it. She moaned and groaned into my mouth and then we thought we heard someone coming. I put her down and we walked back to the family room. On the way I told her we were not done and she insisted we were and it could never ever happen again.
We didn't see each other again for a couple of weeks and this time it was at her house for our Friday night family dinner. Understand that Yasmin is a very conservative dresser, so you'll never see her in anything remotely revealing. However, when we walk into her house, there she was in a medium short skirt and tight sweater blouse. My mouth dropped open and I just said to myself, "OH FUCK!!", because I knew that she knew exactly what she was up to. Everyone was sitting out on the back patio or around the pool talking and she was in the kitchen getting dinner ready. I quietly snuck away and went into the kitchen.
"I know what you're up to Yasmin."
She turned around and had a knife in her hand.
"I don't know what you're talking about Mike and if you even touch me tonight, I'll cut your huge cock off."
"How do you know it's huge?"
"Because when you picked me up and raped my mouth with your tongue at my mom's house, that huge rock hard cock of yours was pressing against my crotch."
"And you clearly liked it."
"I'll cut if off right now if you don't stop."
"We both know you won't Yasmin."
"Why won't I?"
"Because you're dying to know what it will feel like when my huge fat cock is buried deep inside you. You desperately want to know and that's why you dressed the way you did tonight."
"You're delusional Mike!"
"Are you wearing panties?"
"Fuck you Mike!"
"So, you're not. You little slut! God I'm going to fuck you so good Yasmin, you'll beg for more."
"Stop it Mike! I'll sue you for rape, because we're not having sex. It's illegal."
"Yasmin! It's not illegal because you're not my blood relative."
We heard the sliding door open, so Yasmin went back to finishing up dinner and I went to the bathroom, so no one would suspect anything. We ate dinner and the ladies cleaned up dinner while everyone else went to the family room to talk and watch TV. About 30 minutes later Yasmin took the trash out, which was on the back side of the garage. I waited a few second and then followed behind her. She went around the corner of her house where the trash bins were and dumped the trash and then I came around. Yasmin jumped because I startled her.
"FUCK MIKE! You scared me!"
"Sorry, I didn't mean too, just seeing if you needed help."
"I don't need any help, so you can go back in the house."
I didn't waste any time, I grabbed Yasmin, pushed up against the house and kissed her hard and deep for five minutes straight. She fought me for the first minute or two, but then just gave in. As she kissed me back, I ran my hands down her back and grabbed her amazing ass and squeezed it as we kissed. Without any notice I pulled her skirt up, grabbed two handfuls of her plump naked East Indian ass and picked her up in my arms.
"Oh god no Mike! We can't do this! Not here! Your wife, my sister, is right inside the house."
"I don't care. I'm taking what I want right now and that's you. Unzip my shorts Yasmin!"
"NO MIKE! You cannot have me! This is completely wrong!"
"DO IT NOW!"
Yasmin reluctantly reached down between us and undid my shorts and was able to push them down. My nine inch steel hard shaft sprang out into view.
"HOLY FUCK MIKE! I CAN'T TAKE THAT THING! IT'S A MONSTER! IT WON'T FIT!"
"That's the amazing thing about pussies Yas, they stretch really wide."
I pushed the tip of my cock against Yasmin's dripping pussy. We looked each other straight in the eye and my cock slowly disappeared inside her very tight cunt. I shoved my tongue down her throat and she screamed as my cock stretched her pussy to new widths. I fucked her against the side of her house for ten minutes and unleashed a truck load of cum deep inside her as her pussy exploded all over my cock.
"Oh my god Mike! You just came inside me. Oh fuck! I have my brother-n-law's cum inside me."
"You are one amazing fuck Yas. I can't wait for a time when I can fuck you nonstop for a couple of hours."
"No Mike! We can never do this again. Oh god! I just fucked my brother-n-law."
"It's ok Yas. You can't say that what we just did wasn't completely amazing."
"It was Mike, but we can't do it again. Oh god you fucked me so good. I'm so confused."
We just stood there in that position for another five minutes recovering from our earth shattering orgasms, kissing each other deep, long and hard. As I put her down, my still very hard cock slipped out of her with a very loud slurp and we both kind of laughed nervously and then straightened up our clothes.
"Holy fuck that was good! I came so hard! Did you enjoy raping your wife's sister?"
"Fuck yeah I did! I've wanted to fuck you for a very long time. Now I'm going to fuck you all the time Yas. You're truly an amazing fuck!"
I went back into the house, followed by Yasmin a few minutes later. Everyone was talking and watching TV, so they didn't even know either of us had gone outside and come back in. I went back to the bathroom by Yasmin's bedroom and cleaned up a little but as I was walking out, she was walking in, so I grabbed her again, pulled her in the bathroom, closed the door and bent her over the sink and nailed her again.
"No Mike! Not again! Oh god! Fuck me good Mike! I've wanted a big cock to fuck my neglected pussy for so long. I never thought it be your cock that gives me so much satisfaction. Fuck me all you want, just make sure you cum deep inside me. I want to feel you dripping out of me. Fuck my pussy deep Mike! Please!"
"I've wanted to fuck your brains out for years Yasmin. To be honest, I wanted to fuck you unconscious the very first day I saw you. I knew you'd be an amazing fuck and I was right."
I fucked Yasmin hard and deep and dumped another truck load of cum deep inside her. When I pulled out of her, she turned around and kissed me hard.
"Is this the way it's going to be from now on, you fucking me anytime you want?"
"I think it has to be this way. We clearly both want it this way."
"Yes, we do! My pussy already loves the way your monster cock fucks her. I haven't been fucked for a long time and if fucking my sister's husband is how I get fucked on a regular basis, then I'm ok with that. It sure makes things convenient, doesn't it?"
"It sure does and when your sister goes on conference trips, we both have bed mates while she's gone."
"Oh, fuck yeah! In truth, I've wanted to fuck your cock for a very long time as well. I just knew you had to have a huge cock."
"And now we're fuck buddies for life!"
"Hey! You started this, now you better fucking follow through on your end or that monster cock will get cut off. You wanted to fuck your nympho sister-n-law, well you have and now this nympho slut demands to be fucked really good all the time now. Hope you're ready."
"Don't worry about me Yasmin. I'm going to fuck you in ways you've never even imagined and I'll have you literally begging for more. I just wish you were younger so I could fuck you pregnant. I'd love to fuck you while sucking on your milk tits."
"You're fucking sick Mike!"
"And you love it!"
I've been fucking Yasmin at least 4-5 times a week from that moment on and our fucking is very aggressive and intense. Most of the time we fuck for 3-4 hours every time we fuck and she cums at least 6-7 times and I dump 4-5 loads of cum inside her every time we fuck, but there are plenty of bend her over, fuck a load in her and leave her there with my cum dripping out of her cunt moments too. She's started wear a little more sexier clothes including rarely ever wearing panties, which hasn't gone unnoticed by her sister or her mom, but no one has a clue that I'm the one fucking the hell our of her on a regular basis. I've dumped a ton of cum deep inside Yasmin and there's much more to cum. We've also had plenty of sleep over nights and we usually wind up fucking the whole night long. There's not a room in her or our house that I haven't fucked her in. I've also fucked her in her and our pools. However, I still need to fuck her in her mom's pool. Yasmin and I are deeply in love with each other. If I wasn't married to her sister, we probably would get married.
So, I am currently fucking all three women on a regular basis and there are some rare days where I fuck all of them on the same day. Those days are exhausting, but I will never complain. Every guy on the planet would love to have three nympho sluts to fuck when, where and how he likes, anytime he likes. The one thing I did not expect when I started all this was to actually fall in love with them. They are truly amazing women and I have seriously fallen in love with them all. It would be devastating to lose any of them.
In the end, my research showed that these overlooked women are the most amazing women I've ever met. They are honest, sincere, deeply passionate, classy, slutty, honey and yes, they are beautiful. I have truly and honestly fallen in love with all of them and they with me and all because we accepted each other just as we are, flaws and all, and that allowed us to enter into a relationship that is more passionate, honest, sexual, intense and loving than any of us could have imagined. However, it became that way because my search had no deception, trickery or scamming in the search process. It was based on complete honesty from the beginning. I sincerely wanted to find women who I could honestly love and they love me back and I was rewarded a billion times more than I could have imagined.
Every day of my life I am loved by four amazing women, three of which are more than happy to tear my clothes off, brutally fuck me unconscious and then just keep on fucking me till I come to. And then they would fuck me unconscious again and think it's hilarious. LOL!! But they know without any doubt that I'd do the very same to them. I am so lucky!!
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In MIT, his roommate once commented that he was tiny, and spent the whole day laughing at his alliterate joke. Tiny Tony. Tony sure feels like he’s living up to that now, keeping his eyes resolutely on his hands as Natasha talks in her smooth, slightly-accented voice to the waitress.
Tony doesn’t know if it’s true, but he likes to think that his observation skills are good. He learns through experience; whether or not to turn tail and head back to the library when he sees Howard’s car in the garage, whether or not to change the topic when Matt’s eyes linger too long on his bruises. And now he can tell, through the way Natasha is glancing at the menu, hands folded on the counter, that she doesn’t want to start the conversation.
He doesn’t want to either, but, well.
“Have you decided on a topic? For Investigation?” Tony knows his People skills are a little rusty, he hasn’t done much socialising since he changed schools. His limited experience from MIT still lingers, though, and he thinks he can keep the conversation rolling back and forth until they need to leave for the Library.
“No,” Natasha takes a deep breath, taking in the rich scent of fresh coffee and the special tiramisu exclusive to this café. “I’m interested in Napoleon, though. It’s up to you, really. I just thought it would be a good enough area that’s somewhat unique yet fitting for the topic question.”
Tony thinks this over. She’s right. But he has to keep going, dammit. “Well - do you go to the library often?”
Natasha shakes her head. “Very rarely. Actually, never. It’s too quiet there.”
Personally he rather likes the quiet, but he keeps that to himself. “Nowhere’s ever too quiet. I have this, uh, Corner where I go all the time. We could go there?”
“Sure.” Natasha gives him a warm smile, and he feels blood rushing to his face. Dammit, Tony! She’s going to take it the wrong way again, and he doesn’t know what to do if he gets on the wrong side of her gang.
Natasha orders a vanilla latte or something and Tony his usual caramel-chocolate cappuccino. It’s huge (he knows the waitress secretly loves him for coming here so often and always gives him a Large although he orders a Medium) and Nat stares for a moment. “You’re a coffee person, then?” she asks, and he wants to laugh because has nothing ever been more obvious?
“Yeah. Tea’s too strong for me.”
Natasha looks incredulous. “Coffee is stronger than tea - what do you mean?” She honest-to-God looks so puzzled Tony has to grin a bit.
“The blend of tastes just doesn’t work great for me. I’m Italian, I’ve been drinking coffee all my life. It’s in my roots.” He smiles a little thinking of who he first heard the phrase from. “And, yeah, coffee’s gotten me through truckloads of shit.”
He suddenly realises he was just swearing and quickly looks at Natasha’s expression, but it seems rather relaxed and… amused. Can’t he do something without amusing her? Natasha has this soft look when she thinks something is funny and it’s a really good look on her, but Tony’s opinion might be biased because he hates the other setting, which is Pissed Off.
“You’re Italian?” she says as they walk through the double doors of the library; the sudden rush of warm air has Tony exhaling in relief. It’s been so cold lately.
“Half. My mum was.”
He’s proud of himself, that he can say that without freaking out. He used to do that a lot, mostly in the period just After, but he soon came to realise that wouldn’t be what she wanted, him panicking whenever he remembered her. Basic respect for his own mother.
Natasha seems to sense that it’s still not safe grounds, however, and she switches the topic smoothly: “I’m Russian.” Tony is envious for half a second; whenever he does it it’s as obvious as jumping off a speeding train. He knows because sometimes people cringe at how transparent he is.
“I didn’t know,” he says, because he really didn’t know. “How does that work? How’d you end up here?” He pauses briefly to wave at Yinsen, who’s beaming at him, behind the counter sorting through files on his computer.
“Long story,” Natasha pulls a face.
“Maybe we should do that for our History instead, then,” Tony jokes, and suddenly he thinks this is it. He’s gone a step too far. Natasha is turning and- scoffing at him, that smirk still etched onto her face.
“You wish, Stark,” she teases.
Being with Natasha feels natural. Tony’s glad he isn’t horribly awkward as he usually is. It feels fake though, wearing a smile on his face. Natasha is a good person; she doesn’t deserve to be cheated. But what can he do?
The stinging throb of pain across his whole body has faded to a dull ache. It must have been his time with Dum-E soothing his nerves, and for that he’s thankful. Natasha’s eyes widen when she turns to see his custom spot. Tony loves it; it’s a triad of small armchairs curved into the angle of the wall, stacked with pillows and a blanket. He looks apologetically at Natasha - she won’t have a blanket but then curses himself in his head. Can’t you just let her have it? You have it all the time.
Tony feels a little wave of fatigue wash slowly over him and stumbles into one of the armchairs. Comfy, but not as comfortable as his own, simply because he uses that one so much and these are for his books most of the time. He nods at his usual chair and Natasha sits down, sinking into the plush. He laughs at her face of wonderment.
“I’m always coming here after this,” she declares.
Maybe it’s selfish, but Tony feels a pang of distress. This is his corner. If Natasha comes, she brings her gang with her - they’re a package deal. And they all hate him. Imagine if they came here, to his Corner, to his
safe place
. Imagine if he comes here when he sees that fancy car in the garage and they’re all here, talking and laughing and Yinsen loves them too and what is he gonna do?
He feels a cold hand on his arm. “Hey, Tony, chill,” Natasha says lightly. “What happened? What’s your trigger?”
She says it so directly, Tony thinks. It’s, weirdly enough, helping him calm down, the way she looks at his problem objectively and not recognising that he’s overall flawed.
He doesn’t know how to say it nicely and politely, how to tell her not to bring them here and not to come here all the time because he needs it, but then maybe she needs it more than him. He shrugs. “It was nothing.” I can just find another, uh, hiding place. “You can come here, no problem.”
Realisation dawns on Natasha’s features. “Tony, I’m sorry,” she says, and now her fingers and clenching slightly, applying slivers of pressure. “It’s okay. It’s okay to have a safe place. I have one too.” He watches her eyes turn from liquid concern to a more dangerous solid hue. “Don’t let anyone take that away from you.”
She’s so direct, he thinks again. “No, it’s not that, I-” he looks at Natasha’s steely green eyes and bites his lip. He can’t lie to this girl. “Uh - okay. Thanks. For that.”
`She pats him on the arm, then leans back. “Napoleon, then?”
He nods, relieved. “I’ll go get the books.”
Talking to Natasha is really natural. He wishes he has the same gift as her. When talking to him people either look like they wanna stab him, wanna cringe at him or wanna walk away because he’s too insufferable or too arrogant or too selfish. Natasha handles everything so well; she knows what to do when someone’s on the brink of a panic attack, how to smoothly divert the topic, how to say the right things to make people feel better. Not like him - he messes everything up the moment he touches them. If Natasha were the one having a panic attack, he’d probably start panicking himself because he’s useless in situations that don’t involve science.
If not for the calming environment of the library and the soothing smell of old, well-worn books, Tony wouldn’t even be able to have these thoughts without doubling over and gasping for breath. He really is useless.
The library is like second home to him. He’s never touched the Junior section (he tried! he didn’t understand most of it) and he’s read most of the books in the Engineering and Sciences section, but when he’s bored or just seeking to lose himself in some plot he’ll go for the Science-Fiction. Rarely does he go to the History section unless he wants to cross-reference, but he does not where everything is. It takes him less that two minutes to return with a mountain of thick books. Natasha is curled up, leafing through one of the books he keeps on the coffee table in his Corner at all times, one of the books he likes to keep re-reading over and over again. Upon closer inspection he sees that it’s that book “On Writing” by Stephen King. He isn’t great at writing, but in his opinion it’s the best book ever by the author because it’s filled with delicious anecdotes and he simply likes to read about others’ stories. In the book Stephen King mentions things like how the writer and the reader have a special connection, a special mind-meld through which they transmit messages and special imagery, and Tony thinks that’s the truest word he’s ever known.
Looking up and seeing the towering amount of books, Natasha immediately makes her way over to help. Tony scowls in his head, he’s not that small, they just don’t believe it.
“That’s impressive,” Natasha murmurs, laying the books down on the table.
“I spend a lot of time here,” Tony says. Duh.
Natasha smiles. “Can tell.”
They get to work, Natasha typing on her tablet and Tony sifting through his sources. He’s familiar with cross-referencing so he does that portion, and when the sky starts to darken he thinks their progress is actually commendable.
Natasha actually beams at him as they return the books to their rightufl places. “Good work,” she says, “do you have to go?”
“Uh, yeah.” If he can go, he will go. Mr. Rhodes hopefully won’t be too angry. He still doesn’t know the extent of what he can and cannot do.
Then Natasha looks at him in all seriousness and says, “Why do people talk so much about you, Tony?”
Answers, artificial, truthful and sarcastic whizz through his mind. Because my father is Howard Stark. Because I’m a terrible person and they all hate me. Because I don’t talk much and everyone assumes I don’t want to. Because I’m terrified that I say the wrong thing so I let others say it for me.
“Don’t really know,” he says.
Natasha nods thoughtfully. “Okay. Good evening.”
“Good evening,” he says, then takes his bag and his empty coffee cup and flees. When he looks back before exiting the library’s double doors, Natasha is looking into space, fingers still hovering over her keyboard, head tilted as she thinks.
All good things, Tony hopes.
|
Two weeks.
Two weeks have passed since Taehyung had those heat symptoms which triggered Jeongguk's rut, he thought that happened as 'side effects of the suppressants' but now he was fairly sure he was in heat. Omegas are only fertile during their heat after all, and Taehyung did not want to believe he was actually carrying a pup inside of him.
In reality, he felt like he was not ready, at all. He was about to turn twenty-five years old in a week and just starting his career. He felt young, confident, and full of energy, perhaps the best time to have a baby, but Taehyung was terrified to the point that he didn't want to go to the doctor or do a pregnancy test. In the beginning, Taehyung just had suspicions, minimal suspicions, from the time he went out with Doctor Park Seojoon and he mentioned the soft bergamot scent in him. Jeongguk smelled like bergamot and if he was carrying a pup there was a 90% chance for the baby to smell like his daddy if they are the same genotype. At least that was what he read online.
Now he was feeling emotional, he wanted to cuddle and be pampered by Jeongguk, but the alpha had been very busy that week with the upcoming event of the lovegen app, he did try to make some time in his tight agenda for the omega which was a lot but Taehyung wanted more. And also, the cravings. The damn cravings, maybe he was being paranoid, but he started craving for the most random things like rice with ketchup and ice cream at midnight. But Taehyung convinced himself those things meant nothing, that maybe it was the side effects of quitting those damn suppressants.
Until that Saturday when he told Jimin about the possibility of him being pregnant. Taehyung was cuddling on the couch with the alpha, watching a Disney movie, and talking about the hot date Jimin officially have that night with Yoongi.
Jimin was a hopeless romantic. The alpha made a whole plan to formally ask Yoongi to be his boyfriend. He was taking Yoongi to a cooking class for couples because that's how they met. Learning to bake muffins. Well not really, Jimin met Yoongi when the omega was visiting with his family the Jeons' household. Yoongi ignored them because both alphas were "annoying kids". Both encountered each other not so often, but every time they were close Jimin would feel tingles in his tummy just by smelling the omega. Until that faithful cooking class, Jimin took wishing to be a pastry chef while Yoongi took it because he was an independent omega, and independent omegas know how to bake simple muffins.
Yoongi had laughed sneakily at the alpha flustered face when his muffins pop out of the oven burnt and ugly, crashing those dreams of becoming master pastry chef Jimin. But once the omega saw how gloomy Jimin was, he gave his muffins to the alpha to cheer him up, claiming he looked ugly and sad and he rather sees him like a cute rice cake.
They grew closer after that, Yoongi becoming a big support for the alpha, and Jimin taking care of the omega whenever his alpha instincts kicked in. They had this unexplainable connection but Jimin always thought it was because he admired the omega so much. Now he was dying to know if they were fated soulmates.
"And then I'm going to take Yoongi on a romantic dinner after the cooking class to ask him to be my boyfriend" Jimin explained to Taehyung with a smile on his face, eyes disappearing, and a pink blush adorned his cheeks.
But Taehyung was crying.
"Tae what's wrong?"
"Is just... you are so sweet" he sniffled taking a tissue to blow his nose. "Don't mind me I'm just very sensitive"
"No, you're not"
"Yes I am"
"When I told you yesterday that I was planning to buy jasmine flowers for Yoongi because he smells like that you called me a sap," Jimin said glaring at his friend who started smiling remembering the incident. "Damn mood swings Tae," the alpha said standing up from the couch. "Are you hungry?"
"I'm always hungry" the omega muttered returning his attention to the tv. They were watching Tangled again and Taehyung immediately beamed when the scene of the flying lanterns was coming. "Jimin hurry! You Rapunzel and me Eugene!"
"Why am I always Rapunzel?"
Taehyung rolled his eyes like that wasn't obvious. "Did you forget who has the deep voice between us?" he asked grinning when he heard Jimin scoffing loudly.
The omega sat on the couch ready to sing 'I see the light' when Jimin returned happily with two tuna sandwiches. And the moment the smell of tuna hit Taehyung's nose he gagged loudly, standing up quickly and running to the bathroom leaving Jimin frozen and speechless, agape and knitting his eyebrows in confusion. Putting the sandwiches away he walked towards the bathroom to check on Taehyung.
Jimin knocked on the door lightly. "Tae? Are you alright in there?"
"Don't come in!"
"Are you sick?" Jimin asked worriedly trying to act unaffected by the sound of vomit and cries.
"...No. I'm not sick"
"Tae let me in, I'm worried"
Jimin heard the sound of water running and soon after the omega appeared with his eyes glistering with tears and a pout on his lips. "Jimin..." he muttered sounding small and fragile.
Jimin was quick to grab the omega and wrapped him against his arms in a tight hug, realization hitting him like a rock. "... Are you?"
"No!" Taehyung panicked pushing Jimin away lightly, doe eyes looking scared. "I mean... I don't know..."
"Oh bun," Jimin said patting the omega on his head tenderly, caressing his hair, and whispering sweet words to him. "Am I going to be an uncle?" he asked beaming in happiness, his eyes once again disappearing in thin lines. That seemed to work on Taehyung because he soon relaxed, a small smile appearing on his face.
"I'm still unsure..."
"Is this why you smell like bergamot with vanilla?"
"What? Why you didn't tell me?"
Jimin rolled his eyes playfully. "Duh... because Jeongguk smells like bergamot and you smell like vanilla, so I thought it was because of your scents mixing," he said nodding, the bright smile still on his face. "But your most prominent scent is cherry blossom, not vanilla... so this sweet yet citric scent coming from you is actually not yours," the alpha said clapping his hands together.
Taehyung started crying, and Jimin started panicking. "I can't have a baby now Jimin," the omega said sniffling and hiding his face behind his hands.
"What? why?"
"Because Jeongguk and I are not even together," Taehyung said cleaning the tears from his eyes. "And I don't know if I can take care of another human being..."
"Tae you're more than capable of taking care of a pup," Jimin said squeezing the omega's cheeks with his soft hands, in a warm manner. "And are you kidding me about Jeongguk? That jerk will probably build you a castle with his bare hands to take care of you and the baby"
That made Taehyung giggle while cleaning the remaining tears with the back of his hand. "I should take a test, right?"
"Yes, should I go and buy one for you?"
"Can you do that?"
"Anything for you, bun," Jimin said hugging his friend once again.
"Thank you, Jimin. I don't know what I would do without you..."
"Die obviously" the alpha winked kissing the omega on the cheek earning a lovely nervous laugh from him. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back"
That's how Taehyung found himself peeing on a stick on a Saturday with Jimin waiting not so patiently outside, the alpha really wanted to be an uncle though. Taehyung was a nervous wreck at the moment, he kept pacing around the apartment waiting for the test to be ready. It takes about ten minutes to deliver an accurate reading but for Taehyung the waiting felt eternal. The nausea sensation every time he got overly nervous was also very disgusting.
"Ok, it's ready," Jimin said, his eyes were blown wide as he ran towards the bathroom to pick up the stick not caring if Taehyung had previously peed on it. He gasped loudly.
"Wait, I'm not ready!"
Jimin tried to look serious but that mischievous smile and his eyes disappearing every time he looked at the bar in his hand said differently.
"I'm so happy for you Tae," he said covering his mouth with one hand to suppress a loud squeal.
Taehyung sighed stopping in his tracks, a smile appearing as he walked towards the alpha to see the stick. Two red lines adorn the bar. Positive. The omega gasped feeling a whole new emotion invading his body. From feeling terrified, and worrying about how his life was about to change, to feeling overwhelmed by love. A little person was growing inside of him now, a little person product from his love with Jeongguk, well, and their never-ending horniness.
"I'm pregnant..." he murmured as Jimin held him tightly.
-----------------------
Jeongguk was a workaholic. And he loved his work but at the moment all he wanted was to get out of that office and go to see Taehyung who was texting him nonstop with heart emojis and funny selfies. But he still couldn't quit his job, especially when the big event of the year was coming up and they needed to make all possible arrangements and improvements to make everything perfect. The alpha was also grateful to Namjoon, the older one who had worked hard during the week and was still with Jeongguk even though it seemed that at any moment he would fall asleep at his desk.
"Hyung..." Jeongguk called gaining the attention of the other alpha. "You should go home... you look tired and it's already seven and it's Saturday. Go home to your family"
Namjoon smiled at him, his dimples displaying graciously on his face. "Don't worry Guk, just drop me by the café when we're done"
Jeongguk nodded. "Yeah, no problem. I'm going to see Tae, so I was going that way" he said scratching his nape while fidgeting with his position on the chair.
"Are you two back together?"
"Huh?"
"I know you've been seeing Taehyung again" Namjoon replied eyeing curiously at the younger, wearing his usual gentle smile.
"We are not back together... officially" Jeongguk responded looking away from the other, eyes lost for a moment. "I love him hyung... but I'm scared of getting hurt again"
"That's understandable," Namjoon said patting Jeongguk on the back as he stood up to serve them some coffee. "You two are fated to be together. The universe will always make you two find their way to each other"
"I didn't know you believe in fate, hyung"
"I do" the alpha smiled his dimples away again. "Your soul is Taehyung's and Taehyung's soul is yours. No one can change that"
Jeongguk nodded narrowing his eyes at the other. It sounded odd, really. But he knew it was real. The empty feeling he endured all those years was slowly fading, every time he let Taehyung get closer, he sensed his soul restoring itself, his heart beating lively again and the hollowness inside disappearing. The missing part of him was gradually returning, and this time he wasn't planning to let go.
"Ugh, boss?" Eunwoo's voice interrupted both alphas from their serious conversation.
"Yes?"
"We have a little problem..." the assistant said furrowing his eyebrows as his posture turned into something tense while holding a tablet.
"What is it now?"
"You see... Joy resigned and threatened to sue the company for harassment and defamation"
"What?" Jeongguk exclaimed with an annoyed expression on his face. The vein on his neck got prominent like it did every time he got frustrated or stressed.
Eunwoo gulped, his eyes reading on his tablet. "She has filed a $10 million lawsuit against The Jeon's Labs claiming discrimination, harassment, and retaliation which led to her image being damaged and to a depressive state"
"For fucks sake that's idiotic" the pure-blood alpha growled, his eyes turning dark and dangerous which would send omegas and betas to their knees in a second, luckily Namjoon and Eunwoo were alphas. "Call my fucking lawyer"
"Already did it, boss" Eunwoo swelled his chest with pride because he was such a competent assistant. "But the media is going crazy... and she will appear on that bothersome show of Jessica Jung to talk about everything"
Jeongguk growled in annoyance again, running a hand through his black hair and that killer looks on his face wasn't going away any time soon. He was certain that Joy would bash him like a piece of shit that broke her heart on national television and with the upcoming launch of lovegen new features could generate bad press and low sales.
"Don't worry" Namjoon said reassuringly, noticing how Jeongguk was about to pop another vein. "Just tell the media Jeongguk will speak with them the day of the event. Everyone will be more expectant about it with this"
"Namjoon hyung that's smart" Eunwoo replied nodding his head. "I'll be talking with Jung Hoseok about the lawsuit then," he said before leaving the office.
"Okay, so what do we get until now?" Namjoon spoke reading some files on his computer, completely changing the topic to not stress Jeongguk any further.
"Swipe, messaging, Instagram integration, panic button..."
"Perfect" Namjoon replied nodding just to furrow his eyebrows after. "What about the Golden Club?"
"I don't care about that anymore"
"Then sell memberships to belong to the Golden Club"
"Huh? Is that possible?"
"Yes, people will be buying like crazy to just be part of that exclusive club"
Jeongguk seemed to be thinking for a moment but soon he started nodding with a grin on his face. "You're right," he said typing down some things before letting out a sigh of relief.
"By the way Jeongguk... when will we be ready to start dividing the Jeon's Labs with the rest of the company?"
"Next week after the launching" Jeongguk explained, welcoming the warm smile of excitement appearing on his face. Just a week more and all his hard work during the past year will be compensated. "The papers will be ready and also the Wang alliance so The Jeon's Labs will be all mine," he said proudly and for a moment Namjoon swore the pure blood alpha resembled an excited kid about to have the best Christmas gift.
"I'm proud of you, Jeongguk"
Jeongguk looked up at Namjoon, those dark eyes turning into big doe brown orbs for a second which was quickly replaced by the same void expression in his gaze, still, he smiled and nodded. "Thank you, hyung. Thanks for all your help"
--------------------
Taehyung had to kick Jimin out of the apartment for him to go on his date with Yoongi because the alpha wanted to stay with the omega until Jeongguk appeared at their door which was because his alpha instincts kicked in to protect the pregnant omega and not leave him alone. Jimin was sure Yoongi would understand but Taehyung wasn't ready to tell anyone yet, so he pushed Jimin towards the door and kicked him out despite his complaints, thankfully the alpha was small.
On the other hand, Taehyung knew omegas tend to "nest" when they are pregnant. He always thought those were fairytales their ancestors told them but since he learned he was indeed carrying a pup the urge of nesting was overpassing him. But in that apartment, he didn't have any clothing belonging to Jeongguk and omegas need to surround themselves with their mate's scent to feel safe and secure so he couldn't help himself but go and cuddle with Jimin's clothes. He had that soft but manly lavender and musky scent that made Taehyung feel comfortable. He wasn't Jeongguk but at least it calmed his anxieties at the moment.
Taehyung began to think Jeongguk wasn't coming to see him at all, but the alpha always surprised him in the most amazing ways. Butterflies attacked his tummy just by the sound of the knocks on the door, anticipating to see the alpha that had him blooming with a swirl of emotions.
The omega opened the door revealing a very exhausted Jeongguk on the other side.
But still tired and with dark bags under his eyes, Jeongguk still looked unfairly attractive, taking every ounce of breath from Taehyung's lungs just with that overconfident smile on his handsome face.
"Hey," Jeongguk said, voice sounding manly and warm at the same time, melodic even. The alpha lifted his hands showing Taehyung two bags of food he bought on his way. "I got us dinner-" he was soon cut off by Taehyung's sweet lips on him, arms wrapped around his neck while the world stopped for a moment just like every time they kissed. "Someone is happy to see me"
"I am" Taehyung replied taking the bags from Jeongguk's hands to leave them in the kitchen. "What did you bring?"
"Japchae, lamb skewers, and I got you ice cream," Jeongguk said removing his shoes and coat while stretching his neck. "Oh and I got us soju, I need a drink right now"
Taehyung stopped all his movement to stare at Jeongguk with big doe eyes tensing his whole body. The alpha creased a brow at him, but Taehyung was quick to smile diverting the topic.
"Sure," he said turning around quickly to place the japchae on the table along with Jeongguk's favorite lamb skewers. Everything was alright, he would tell Jeongguk he was pregnant, and everything was going to be simply fine.
Except that nothing was fine for Taehyung.
He didn't want to tell Jeongguk without the alpha completely accepting him again, he wanted to hear those words from him, those words declaring unconditional love. He wanted to be looked at with those dark brown loving eyes full of stars and promising words. He wanted to be touched by those gentle yet strong hands like he was the most precious thing in the universe.
Taehyung watched how Jeongguk sat down on the couch throwing his head backward placing a hand behind his head and closing his eyes, he looked drained of energy.
"Are you alright?"
Jeongguk just hummed.
"Do you want me to lend you some comfy clothes?"
After hearing that Jeongguk opened his eyes, turning to look at the omega by the kitchen area. Taehyung was wearing some black sweats and a red hoodie looking completely comfortable and adorable.
"Yeah, that'd be great"
While digging in his closet looking for something comfortable and big enough for Jeongguk, Taehyung was having an internal battle of thoughts.
"Are you alright, Tae?" Jeongguk's voice startled him making him jump slightly with a yelp. The alpha chuckled at him. "You seemed uncomfortable"
"I'm not uncomfortable"
Jeongguk rose his hands in a defensive stance, his smirk still on display. "Okay... I can use that" he said talking about the grey hoodie and sweats the omega was holding. Taehyung smiled awkwardly handing the items to the alpha, not looking him in the eyes. Jeongguk once again gave him a suspicious look but before he could say something else the omega ran off of the room to the kitchen.
When the alpha returned to the living room area, he let out a chuckle when he saw Taehyung munching like a squirrel the ice cream he brought. The rest of the food was neatly placed and ready to eat.
"That was supposed to be the dessert," Jeongguk said amused.
Taehyung turned with the same doe guilty eyes and gulped down the ice cream in his mouth. "I'm sorry," he said taking another large amount of ice cream on a big spoon. "But this is too good to care" the omega moaned while eating the cookies and cream flavored ice cream, eyes lingering on Jeongguk's appearance.
The alpha looked unfairly hot in that hoodie and sweats. He rolled up the sleeves of the hoodie until his elbows and the clothing seemed tight in all the right places. And those sweats that Taehyung seemed to be swimming in, Jeongguk made them look like he just came out of a wet dream. Thighs and legs sculptured by god himself, the omega was sure.
Taehyung was not sure why he was feeling so fucking smitten by Jeongguk all of a sudden. He could blame it on the pregnancy. Does pregnancy make you horny? He was not sure but all he wanted to do right at the very moment was to go and kiss the alpha, wrap his arms around him, and never let him go.
"What?"
"N-nothing" Taehyung wanted to slap himself for stuttering. "Come eat with me..." he said sitting on one of the chairs leaving the fantastic ice cream for later and chewing on those nice paper noodles.
Jeongguk followed, dragging himself to sit next to Taehyung at the small table. The first thing the alpha did was pour soju into two small glasses wanting nothing more than to drink and feel his body loosen. He passed a glass to the omega who furrowed his eyebrows instantly.
"I... I don't want to drink"
"Come on Tae, accompany me with a drink," the alpha said sucking down the entire glass and letting out a satisfied grumble. "I've been working my ass all week and I want to have drinks with my mate, is that so hard?"
"Are you forcing me to drink?"
"I'm not forcing you to drink"
"It sounded like you were"
"I'm fucking stressed, I'm sorry if I sounded like I was forcing you to drink, alright?" Jeongguk snapped pouring more alcohol into his glass.
"...Alright" Taehyung muttered backing away from the alpha.
Jeongguk looked at him knitting his brows together and letting out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry okay? You can eat your ice cream while I drink soju"
Taehyung smiled at that, nodding his head knowing well stress and Jeongguk didn't get along. "Thanks... you know for bringing dinner"
"It's not a problem" Jeongguk replied grabbing one of the lamb skewers and handing it to the omega. "Eat this while it's still hot," he said, and the blonde nodded smiling.
Taehyung felt his heart warming up at that, a sudden feeling of braveness just to see Jeongguk smiling back at him. He opened his mouth to speak. "Jeongguk... I need to tell you something" he said, and the alpha tilted his head looking at him expectantly. "I'm..." he began but paused taking a deep breath. "I'm..."
Jeongguk knitted his brows, strong and piercing gaze not lingering from the omega. "Tae you can tell me anything," he said softening his eyes.
But Taehyung felt his hands sweating and his legs shaking. His heart threatened to burst out of his chest. And Jeongguk was frowning at him, sensing the omega's distress.
"Tae you're scaring me"
Another deep breath. "Jeongguk... I'm pregnant"
Jeongguk's brain stopped working.
----------------------
It was almost midnight when Jimin and Yoongi were walking back from the fancy restaurant the alpha took the other to have a nice dinner and ask him to be his boyfriend. Except that Jimin chickened out and couldn't form the right words leaving the two awkwardly looking at each other. It was a shame, really, especially since the date was going amazingly. First, the cooking class was filled with loud giggles from Jimin and witty comments from Yoongi. They bickered once in a while just to act all adorable right after. Nothing much had changed between them, except for the few kisses they shared now.
"I think it's going to snow," Yoongi said looking up to the sky letting the black wooly scarf covering his mouth fall to his neck as he let out a breath that blend into the white fog for the cold air.
Jimin stared back at him with a loving look. Yoongi was beautiful, his features were soft and pristine. He looked like a porcelain Chinese doll and just looking at him made Jimin's heart warm fluttering with new emotions he had not felt before.
The alpha took a deep sigh stopping in his tracks and yanking Yoongi towards him unintentionally, it was merely because they were holding hands and Yoongi almost tripped from the sudden movement.
"Sorry..."
Yoongi rolled his eyes but smiled at the other, nonetheless. "You're so clumsy"
Jimin blushed at those words, a shy smile appearing on his face. "I wanted to... ask you something," he said, and the omega stared back blinking his eyes waiting for Jimin to continue. "I... Ugh... Oh god... Yoongi I... I like you and you like me so... ugh...I was wondering if... you know...."
"Would you be my boyfriend?" Yoongi asked suddenly taking Jimin completely off guard who blinked awkwardly looking at Yoongi.
"No!"
"W-what?" Yoongi asked letting go of Jimin's hand who started to panic.
"No! I mean yes! But no! Oh just kill me already" Jimin said hiding behind his small hands once again. But Yoongi was chuckling at him, a nice husky sound. Jimin separated two fingers to be able to look at the omega with one eye.
"Jimin..."
"I do want to be your boyfriend, more than anything" Jimin suddenly said taking another brave breath while his hands reached to take Yoongi's hands into his own. "But I was supposed to be the one asking you"
Yoongi rolled his eyes. "If you say because you are alpha and I am an omega I'm seriously going to kill you"
"What? No! No at all" Jimin defended himself shaking his head. "It was my plan... to take you out to the cooking class, to a romantic dinner and then we were supposed to be walking like those couple in the movies and I would pop the question! That was the plan!"
"Scrub your plan," Yoongi said looking annoyed, but inside he was enjoying how Jimin got easily flustered, pouting and looking like a scolded child. "Let's date"
"You're so unromantic!"
"And you're a dork"
"Well, you have an adorable poker face!"
"And you're clumsy and clingy but I like you that way!"
"Will you be my boyfriend Min Yoongi?"
"Yes, Park Jimin, I'll be your boyfriend"
Jimin smiled sheepishly, his nose and cheeks bright pink for the cold night and his flustered state. He leaned in cupping Yoongi's face and placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I want to know our score in the lovegen app"
"I'm not downloading that shit" Yoongi scoffed putting his hands on the pockets of his coat and trying to walk again but Jimin wrapped his arms to Yoongi's back like a baby koala, whining and trying to cling to him as if his life depended on it.
"Hyung please"
"No"
"Pleeease for me?"
"No"
"Why not??"
"I already know our matching score," Yoongi said with shrug and Jimin immediately gasped, letting the omega go from his arms.
"What? Why? How? Why you didn't tell me?!" the alpha exclaimed walking ahead of Yoongi to block his steps. Jimin's eyes were amusingly big and has this scolding glare on his face the omega found utterly attractive.
Yoongi rolled his eyes. "Because you laughed when you saw my profile appearing in your matches"
Jimin opened his mouth thinking of that specific moment when both of them downloaded the lovegen app and Jimin had giggle like an annoying kid when he saw Yoongi was one of his DNA matches. "Oh... I'm so sorry, it was just funny...."
"It was not funny" Yoongi deadpanned with an unreadable expression on his face.
"Hyung... I was dense okay? I'm sorry. I was happy to see you on my matches, but it was also really awkward for me..." the alpha explained taking Yoongi's hands to intertwine their fingers.
"That not an excuse" Yoongi replied looking at their hands as Jimin put them closer to his mouth to kiss his knuckles, softly and sweetly, just like him.
"But even Jeongguk got you in his matches!" Jimin whined nuzzling his nose against Yoongi's hands like a puppy seeking love and caress.
"Yeah, that was weird..."
"See? And you said male omegas tend to appear in alpha's profiles, so I did not pay much attention to it..."
Yoongi stared blankly at Jimin for a moment in what seemed to be a staring contest until the omega sighed, giving up. "Fine"
"Yay! Okay!" Jimin said cheerfully swinging their arms together and wondering how Yoongi managed to endure his clinginess without getting mad or annoyed.
"Can I ask you something first?" Yoongi said and the alpha hummed nodding his head with a bright smile. "What percentage do you have with Taehyung?" he asked and the smile on Jimin's face immediately died down.
"Why do you wanna know?" he asked furrowing his eyebrows.
"Because I'm curious" the omega shrugged.
"Okay but don't freak out... but Tae and I are kindred spirits" Jimin explained thinking about the absolute connection he shared with Taehyung. A bond that certainly made Jimin feel complete.
Yoongi was frowning. "What the hell is that?"
"Don't ask..." Jimin said shaking his head, knowing no one would understand but Taehyung and him. "Anyways, we have 95%...." He said holding his breath, expecting to see an annoyed Yoongi, or an insecure Yoongi, even a disapproving Yoongi but nothing happened. Yoongi just nodded raising his eyebrows two inches higher, and that was it.
"Shit that's high..." he simply said.
Jimin let out his breath, grateful for Yoongi. He clearly remembered how Jeongguk reacted after finding out his matching score with Taehyung and that was not pretty.
"Are you sure you want to know ours? you may be disappointed" Yoongi said interrupting the alpha's thoughts.
"I won't be... All that matter to me is what I'm feeling at this very moment for you..." Jimin said with the same lovely smile Yoongi adores.
"Cute..." the omega muttered with a smile. "Okay is ready..."
They synchronized their phones, nervousness, and anticipation filling their pores as their hearts thumped against their chest, the kind of feeling that is both rich and terrifying. Jimin started reading slowly as the words 'loading' and 'lovegen app' appeared on the screen.
"Your DNA matching score with Min Yoongi is... Oh god..."
Yoongi smiled, a gummy smile that Jimin loves on him. "Your DNA matching score with Park Jimin is 99%..."
---------------------------
Jk's mood:
|
Loki stood in front of the assembled mages. They each had a chair, a place at a table and a large candle in front of them.
With a wave of his hand and a great deal of concentration Loki lit the candles. The assembled mages stared at him in wonder. It was almost embarrassing. After all, Loki was still perfecting ice shaping and the books of Jotun magic Laufey gave him were full of water and ice spells that he'd never even heard of.
'Fire and Ice' Loki thought. 'Can there be a better metaphor for Asgard and Jotunheim?'
He cleared his throat and began to speak.
"Fire magic is just like any other branch of magic. It requires focus, discipline and practice. Now I know you are all full mages which means you understand that concept well. So today what you are going to do is feel the shape of the flame with your magic. Reach out toward it. Don't try to manipulate it, just let your magic flow over it. See if you can sense the flame in front of you."
The assembled mages each looked down at their candle and, almost in unison, took a deep calming breath.
Loki watched as the magic of two hundred mages flowed out in tight, well controlled streams to wrap around the flickering flames in front of them.
Some overdid it immediately. Their candles went out in a puff of smoke. Others caused the flame to flicker wildly.
Loki relit the candles that had gone out as he wandered the hall, watching their efforts. With focus he could see the different magic trying to encircle the individual flames.
After about an hour the magic was clearly more focussed, more refined. It flittered around and through the flame as the mages learnt the feel of fire.
Loki called a break for snacks.
They crunched a small mouthful of frozen meat each. Food was scarce just after the Darkening, but learning magic required major focus, and that meant doing the best you could to take care of yourself.
"Right." Loki said, after they were done. "A lot of you have managed to feel the shape of a flame. Now I want you to try and push it sideways without extinguishing it, like this."
He focussed on the flame in front of him. It lengthened out sideways from the candle base in one long steady flame, before coming back to the centre and lengthening out in the other direction.
"You need to use you magic to encourage the flame's essence to grow in one direction and one direction only." He said.
The mages went back to their candles. All two hundred of them instantly went out.
Loki relit them.
"That's exactly what I did the first few hundred times." He said cheerfully. "Try again."
After another hour only one mage had managed to stretch his flame out. It was a wild, flickering thing that curled at the end, a far cry from Loki's sedately controlled line.
"We'll try again tomorrow." Loki said. "Get plenty of sleep tonight."
He left the hall and made his way to the royal chambers for lunch.
Laufey was waiting for him.
"Good lesson?" He asked.
"The usual." Loki replied.
"Which is?" Laufey asked, amused.
Loki glanced up at him.
"Lots of focus, almost no result. It's early days yet, they need to practice for weeks before they'll be ready to try and summon it. They need to *know* fire, to know it's very nature. They get it though, there's nothing stopping them but time."
"And you? Have you begun your own studies?" Laufey asked.
Loki picked up a piece of meat and crunched on it.
"Not yet, I've been reading those books you gave me. There's a lot in there I want to try."
"Maybe this afternoon then." Laufey said.
They finished lunch all too quickly. Loki jumped down from his chair and fetched some Asgard food from Frigga's baskets.
"Here." He said, handing some roasted pheasant to Laufey. "Tell me if that tastes like burning."
Laufey chewed the pheasant carefully.
"It's a lot better than boar." He said. "I like the skin."
"Everyone likes the skin." Loki said. "It's covered in herbs and roasted in butter."
Laufey smiled as he ate another mouthful.
"The short harvests will be coming in when we go on our tour, there will be better food then."
"This food is fine." Loki lied. "It's a bit repetitive, but better the same meal every day than no meal at all."
"True." Laufey agreed. "Are you having enough though? With your new studies? The mages are all having a little extra from the kitchens each day."
"I haven't started yet, but maybe, when I'm trying a new spell. Can they spare it?" Loki asked.
"For the queen? Hmm, let me think." Laufey joked.
Loki shaped a handful of snow into his palm and held it threateningly.
"It will not be a burden for you to have a little extra if you need it." Laufey said. "The hunting parties are successful, boring, but successful."
"I'll stick to the Asgard food. I'm sure mother will send more if I tell her I'm starving." Loki said.
"You should not joke about that to her, she will believe you." Laufey said, suddenly serious. "I would never starve you."
"I know." Loki said, surprised. "I didn't meant it seriously."
They finished the pheasant in silence and made their way to the throne room for the afternoon audience.
Afterward, Loki read his books while Laufey sat and carved a small animal bone into a decorative pin.
"I didn't know you carved." Loki said from his perch on the window seat.
"It helps me to focus my mind." Laufey said. "It is also a good way to be creative. I don't have a lot of time for it though."
They went back to their respective tasks.
When Thrym knocked on the door he took in the domestic scene in front of him with a smile.
"I thought you ought to know, I'm moving in here for a month." He announced.
Loki looked up at him puzzled, but Laufey began to chuckle.
"Goupr's mother is here, isn't he?" He said.
Thrym groaned and sank down onto the available chair.
"He heard about the baby, he's decided to come and give me advice." He said with a pained expression.
"So cowers the mighty Thrym." Laufey joked.
"You would cower to if your mate's mother was insufferable." Thrym said.
There was an awkward moment of silence.
"Loki's mother is...very strong willed." Laufey said at last.
“Damn straight” Loki muttered.
"Where's Goupr?" Laufey said quickly.
"Hiding the children." Thrym said. "Or greeting his mother, I don't know, but I'm not coming out until that chattering moron has gone."
"That sounds a bit harsh." Loki said.
Laufey chuckled as Thrym straightened in his chair.
"Harsh? That was going easy! That man is incapable of remaining quiet for anything! He says everything that comes into his head, everything! Last time he commented on the weather four times in ten minutes. It's Jotunheim! It was a clear day and had been for a week, and *would* be for a week more! If you want enough variety to comment on the weather go to Midgard!"
Loki was biting his lip in an effort not to giggle. Laufey wasn't even trying to hold back his laughter. Thrym looked exasperated.
"Stop laughing you two! Especially you Laufey! Remember when he tried to join our huddle for the Darkening?"
Laufey stopped laughing.
Thrym nodded, his eyes wide.
"You see? It's not funny at all is it? He just happened to come up for a visit right at the last moment before it became too cold to travel. Goupr had to escort him back to his huddle and almost froze on the way back. You remember what he was like Laufey. Oh you know."
Laufey nodded seriously, although a small smile still threatened to break through his mask.
"I remember, I asked you if you wanted me to build a wall between the castle and the eastern plains. You said yes and tried to hold me to it when the Darkening finished."
"You should have done it." Thrym said. "That man is a menace."
"Apart from the talking, what's wrong with him?" Loki asked.
Thrym just buried his head in his arms. Laufey looked over at Loki and smiled gently.
"That's it really, you try living with someone who talks non-stop about every inane thought that goes through his head and you'll soon understand why Thrym is upset. Even so," he said, turning to Thrym, "you have to deal with it. I'm sure it won't be for too long, and your duties as General will keep you busy."
"He'll accuse me of putting work ahead of my children." Thrym said.
"You are the First General of Jotunheim! Of course you put work ahead of your children! But only when you have to, and you are the best parent I know." Laufey said.
"He doesn't believe pregnant Jotun should work." Thrym said. "He's a traditionalist from the warm ages. He thinks I should be setting up a nice nest so that Goupr can bring me food and rub my feet. I don't need any of that, I'd get bored."
Laufey chucked again.
"Nobody believes that the ancient Jotun were so lazy anymore, no species on Jotunheim starts nesting the moment they are with child, why would we be the exception? That is a silly holdover from a silly time in our era."
"What time?" Loki asked.
"There was a time when the first Jotun of a couple to get with child was declared the mother of all the children. He would nest early, speak to no one but his mate and do nothing for a year. Then he would raise the children while the father did nothing but provide food for them. It was a stupid time. Our population dropped to record lows, and both mothers and fathers were unhappy with their assigned roles. Swapping roles would make you an outcast."
"That's unbelievable." Loki said.
"And yet, they were those who really believed in it. There are a few isolated pockets of ignorance that still perpetuate the myth today. Goupr's mother for one." Thrym said.
"You'll be fine, he drops in every year or so, you can stand it for a few days." Laufey said.
Thrym lowered his head and sobbed theatrically into his arms.
"You're a cruel brother." He said. "You won't even give me shelter during my delicate time."
Laufey snorted.
"You've never been delicate in your life." He said. "Go and get it over with, you know he hangs around longer when you are distant, and that's not fair on the children. Little Býleistr had sore cheeks from Nada's squeezing, and Helblindi was ready to run away."
Thrym grumbled but rose from the chair.
"If he kills me, I want him punished by the old method, it suits his style." He said as he left the room.
"The old method?" Loki asked.
Laufey looked caught.
"I was a long time ago." He said, laying down some early security. "We haven't done it since before my grandmother's day. In fact his father was instrumental in outlawing it."
"But what was it?" Loki asked.
"Use magic to send them to Asgard." Laufey muttered.
"What?"
"We used to send them to Asgard, where either the heat or the warriors would finish them off." Laufey said. "It sounds like an easy punishment but it was painful and terrifying."
"That's the reason Asgard has all those old stories of Jotun attacking from nowhere?!" Loki said. "The children still try to scare each other with tales of Jotun living in caves up in the mountains. Some warriors still go up there even now to see if they can find them."
“Yes, well, we stopped.” Laufey said.
Loki raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to his book.
“Do I have to meet Goupr’s mother?” He asked suddenly.
“You are under no obligation, but you’ll see him at the next audience. He’ll be the one in the back who won’t shut up.” Laufey said
The next day’s lesson was much like the first. Thankfully the mages understood how slow the progress was when starting a whole new branch of magic. While they were practicing, Puluk taught Loki a spell to feel the inside of a Jotun’s body. He got to practice on Thrym, who was spending the day hiding out anywhere he could. Puluk provided a careful shield between Loki’s magic and Thrym’s body in case of flair-ups, but Loki was still able to sense the tiny child growing inside.
“It’s still so small.” He said, opening his eyes.
“Tiny.” Puluk confirmed. “But healthy and strong. He’s developing nicely.”
Thrym beamed in pleasure.
Loki tried scanning Jotun bodies until his head hurt. By then the others were exhausted too, they ate their extra rations and departed for the day.
Loki looked over the candles. They were large ones, perfect for this kind of work. It would be some time before he would need to ask Frigga for more.
Thrym escorted him back to the royal chambers.
Loki slowed his walk until he was barely strolling.
“Don’t want to go back there right now?” Thrym asked.
“It’s lunchtime, I have to.” Loki said.
Thrym shook his head.
“Tell a servant to tell Laufey you’ll be eating lunch somewhere else. Then come and help me find somewhere good to hide.”
Loki smiled at that.
“You’re not feeling restless are you Thrym? All that time away from your mate while your mother in law visits.”
“My mother in law? Is that what they are called in Asgard?” Thrym asked.
“Yes, once you marry by law they become your mother too.”
“Oh no, that monster will never be my mother.” Thrym said.
“I’ll help you explore, there has to be some old passageways or something you can use as a hideout.” Loki said.
They had a servant bring them lunch and two crystals which Loki filled with light, and spent the whole afternoon exploring the older passageways at the base of the castle. At one point a servant brought a message from Laufey saying that Thrym should know better than to keep Loki from the afternoon audience, but that he would overlook it this time because he knew for a fact Nada was spending *his* afternoon trying to build a nest for Thrym in his and Goupr’s chambers.
They reached the lowest depths of the castle. It was cold down there, even for Jotun. Loki could feel the air on his skin as they walked. A thought suddenly occurred.
“Do these tunnels go beyond the castle perimeter? Because if they do I’m getting into trouble as we speak.”
“According to the old maps Laufey and I used to study before planning one of our ‘adventures’, only one tunnel goes beyond the castle limits and we are well away from that one.” Thrym said. “I’ve never actually explored this one.”
They wandered for a few more minutes, content to poke their heads around every corner and into every crack in the ice. In case of treasure, Thrym informed Loki with a straight face. Loki responded by telling Thrym about the time he and Thor had explored the narrow service tunnels of the Asgard Palace.
“Every royal childhood is the same.” Thrym said happily.
“Seems like it.” Loki said with a reminiscent smile.
They continued on their way in silence until they heard the faint sound of voices.
“Does this passage join the servants paths?” Loki asked quietly.
“Maybe.” Thrym said, equally soft. “The map was old and showed no other tunnels down here at all.”
Loki waved a hand and dimmed their crystals to a dull glow. Thrym looked at him in surprise.
“Are you really expecting us to spy on some servants?” He asked.
“They might have treasure.” Loki replied with a straight face.
Thrym snickered and together they crept closer to the source of the sounds, grinning the grin of adults pretending that just for a moment they had not yet grown up.
The voices were not servants. They were ex-guards, the same ex-guards who had been involved in the attack on Loki’s mother.
Loki and Thrym exchanged nervous glances before Loki darkened their crystals completely.
“This is ridiculous. I fought a war against those dirty Asgard, now they come as guests just because our pretty little queen needs his mother? Is he Jotun or not?”
“Maybe he’s an Asgard spy, planted to bewitch Laufey and bring us down.”
“That makes sense, the King can’t even get a child on him. Maybe that’s the reason.”
“Or maybe we could be reasonable. Even an ice maiden doesn’t get pregnant the second you mate with one.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“The one that will win, it doesn’t mean I’m giving in to suspicion of Asgard plots. The plan was disrupted by his arrival but Greer has adapted it now. We will still have what he promised us.”
“I only joined this venture because Jotunheim was going to collapse into war anyway and I wanted to come out on top, now that Laufey has a queen our future is safe. Why do we continue with this?”
“Don’t you want to come out on top anyway? Greer will make it happen.”
“Who gets the ice maiden?”
“The queen will have to die. We can’t risk someone getting a child on him and rallying the realm. Once we are finished, Jotunheim will never bow to such stupid traditions again.”
Loki couldn’t help but feel conflicted about what he was hearing. War? Bad. His death? Bad. Cultural change in Jotunheim? Good. Cultural change lead by the people who tried to kill his family? Bad. Dead Laufey? Good for him, bad for Jotunheim.
He reluctantly raised a hand.
Thrym saw what he was doing and grabbed it. He shook his head in the semidarkness and pulled Loki away.
“We will tell Raolr, he will investigate these tunnels, he may have a spy in there already and you don’t want to kill him.” He breathed into Loki’s ear. “We have explored enough for one day, let us return to the light.”
They made their way back to the public parts of the castle and to the royal chambers, where Laufey was playing with Býleistr.
“Hello Mother, hello Uncle Queen.” Býleistr said happily when they walked in.
Thrym reached down and swung him up high.
“Have you been good for your Uncle Laufey?” He asked as Loki climbed into his chair.
Laufey saw the look on his face and gave him a questioning look.
“Something wrong?” He asked, keeping his tone pleasant for Býleistr.
“Something.” Loki said, equally light. “We should include Raolr in the news.”
At once Laufey’s demeanour changed, he went to the door and requested a servant bring his brother to them.
“Býleistr.” He said in a teasing, playful voice. “Why don’t you ask your Uncle Loki if you can have a honeyed cake?”
Býleistr turned and gave Loki a mischievous smile.
“May I have a honeyed cake Uncle Queen?” He asked.
Loki pretended to consider it before jumping down and fetching one of the sweet treats. Býleistr mumbled a thankyou and tucked in as Thrym came to join them at the table. Laufey gave him his chair and shaped two stools for himself and Raolr.
When the spymaster arrived, Loki and Thrym relayed everything they had seen and heard. Raolr nodded in reply.
“My spies have reported similar things from across the town. They are staying together in small bands in a variety of locations. They do not communicate with one another except via secret meetings in which everyone is cloaked. I believe this is so if one cell is compromised, the others cannot be given away. We didn’t know about this band.”
“How many have you found?” Laufey asked quietly.
“Fourteen bands of about six in each. Not that many if they are planning a revolution. But there are a number of key positions filled by the plotters here at the castle. If they fill enough of them before they strike, their plan may be to preserve the appearance of peace by publically uniting, that way they will have the people on their side. Those that break away will be seen as loving themselves more than Jotunheim.”
“Good plan.” Laufey commented. “When do you think they will strike?”
“Not for a while yet, we still have a number of them to locate.”
“Keep us informed.” Laufey said as Raolr left.
Thrym got up and fetched Býleistr, who was flicking through the pages of Loki’s Asgard story book.
“Come on, time to go.” He said.
“NOOOO! I don’t want to see grandmother! He pinches, he pinches!” Býleistr cried out.
He started kicking his legs in the beginning of a tantrum.
“Býleistr, you know that’s not going to work, now be good or Uncle Loki won’t let you come back and read his stories.” Thrym said.
Býleistr whined a little bit more but wrapped his arms around his mother.
“We’ll face him together, come on.” Thrym said and carried him out.
Laufey looked over at where Loki sat.
“Amazing.” He commented dryly. “Even when you are confined to the castle you manage to walk into trouble.”
Loki just shrugged.
“What are you going to do?” He asked.
Laufey smiled an evil smile.
“I’m going to have the servants set up a Grur dung and fungus growth pile in the old passageway.” He said.
He saw Loki’s look and returned it with an innocent expression.
“We need the dung to break down to use on crops. That old tunnel sounds like the perfect place for the fungus to grow well, and what with it being so far from the main castle the smell won’t bother *anyone*.” |
Allison’s posture is sturdy as she steps away from the car, arrow notched and ready. Gerard’s eyes glow red and violent in the slowly dimming light. His features are lupine and fearsome, contorted in anger. Isaac stands by Allison’s side, wary despite his trained look of indifference. Derek tries not to sway on his feet, reminding himself of where he is. He feels cold. He almost feels calm.
“Gerard.” Allison’s voice rings true and clear through the trees.
“You should be proud, Allison. You’re a gifted warrior.”
She doesn’t budge.
“What do you want?”
His lips curl around his jagged teeth.
“I want to safeguard our family’s future.”
Allison glares.
“What family?” Her expression is stony. “Your legacy tore us apart. My parents left me,” she doesn’t choke on her anger, and Derek briefly wonders how she’s been able to master her own pain with such efficiency. “They chose cruelty and killing over kindness, over the life I was creating for us here. It was the end of the world, and they still couldn’t let go.” She shakes her head. “Is that the future you want for us?”
Gerard snarls.
“The future I have planned for you is one of freedom! Free of the fear of the monsters that surround us!”
Her eyebrow twitches.
“Monsters?” She glances at Isaac, who takes a step closer to her. “I think you and I might have a very different definition of what makes someone a monster.”
Derek chokes, the word echoing in the back of his skull. I’ll protect you from all the monsters, Derek, just close your eyes… What monsters? What did she mean? Who? Where? Her voice was so soft, like a whisper. He shakes his head, trying to banish it away. He knows who the real monster was.
Gerard is looking at him. Allison sees it before he does.
“Derek-”
Blood on his hands, fire in his lungs. Electricity erasing signals between his eyes. He’s standing, and Gerard is watching him, and Gerard knows something. Derek has the key, he always had the key, he was the missing piece that could end all of this. And instead he was hiding behind the fury of Kate Argent, tearing the world apart up and down the East Coast, destroying everything in her path. Blood and fire and a willingness to forget. There’s no question, he knows who the real monster was.
Gerard is snarling, and he’s in the woods, Allison and Isaac by his side, and he shakes off his memories just a second too late.
“You!”
Allison’s bow shrieks as an arrow sings through the air, and Gerard’s body jerks around it when it finds its mark, but he doesn’t let go of Derek. His fingers are tight around his throat. Derek is choking, claws dragging against Gerard’s skin, tearing at his knuckles. Derek doesn’t remember shifting. Gerard’s breath is hot against his cheeks, and he struggles for air as he’s lifted off the ground, the scent of feral pheromones clouding out the logical parts of him, crowding out the tampered memories, until he feels his blood running thick with adrenaline. He feels awake. He feels sharp. He feels strong.
His eyes begin to glow, he sees it in the tremor that goes through Gerard’s body.
He’s stronger than before.
Derek grips Gerard’s forearms, sinking his claws into the man’s skin, twisting until he hears a bone snap. The aftershock flows through his body, and Derek ignores the man’s pain. Gerard’s grip goes lip and Derek falls, landing on his feet without tumbling or tripping. Gerard snarls as the injury begins to heal, slashing at Derek with his uninjured arm, revealing the arrow still protruding form his back with every twist and turn. Derek dodges, showing his teeth as he growls back.
He feels thunder rumbling beneath his feet. He doesn’t care.
With a deep growl echoing inside his chest, he digs his talons into Gerard’s chest, tearing through his abdomen and lifting him with his own ribcage. Blood drenches his arm as he flings Gerard against a thick tree. The wet, crunching sound that accompanies the impact almost makes him flinch, echoes of the noise reminding him of the shadows he’s beginning to remember. Allison materializes beside him, for a moment banishing the spiraling nightmare his mind is becoming. Her arrow is notched and ready, aimed at Gerard. The old man’s neck looks like it might be broken, his grin is lopsided and bloody. When he speaks, his arms jerk, and red froth jumps from his tongue. His body is trying to heal, and it’s not pleasant.
“Stand down, Gerard.” Allison doesn’t blink. “Whatever it is you came here to do, you’ve lost.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” His voice is raspy, but firm. “I came here to protect you. All I need is the key.” He fumbles in his pocket, pulling out a familiar wallet. Derek feels his muscles tightening, preparing for a fight he’s already lost.
“What did you do to them?” He hears himself whisper.
“To your friends, back in Beacon Hills?” His jaws twitch. “Dead. All of them.”
His chest constricts, and his vision goes dark. He blinks, hearing a howl great enough to tear the sky apart, and he doesn’t notice right away that it’s not coming from him. Isaac is screaming, guttural and wild. The only one that hasn’t moved is Allison, though he can feel her anger. It’s at once white-hot, it’s cold and calm and terrifying. She is completely still, arrow aimed at Gerard’s heart. Derek remembers, as if delirious, that this is how he first saw her. Fearless and furious, and surrounded by fire.
“Say that again.”
Gerard coughs, and this time, voice churning over the words.
“Everyone in Beacon Hills is dead.” He turns his gaze to Derek, who tries desperately not to give anything away. “But you, don’t you know you have the power to fix it?”
He feels numb.
“I do.”
Gerard licks his lips, fumbling with the wallet.
“All that’s needed is the key.”
“Derek.” Allison doesn’t look away from her target. “Don’t. Whatever he’s telling you to do. It’s got to be a trick, don’t give him what he wants.”
Derek looks down at his bloody fist, clenched tight. Stiles. He left Stiles in Beacon Hills, he wasn’t there to protect him when he knew, he knew, he should have known what would happen. Gerard, or Peter, he should never have left Stiles alone near either one of them, let alone both at once. Isaac makes another strangled noise, and Derek hears an echo of it in his own heart.
“You’re the key Derek, you have been all along. All you need,” he forces the wallet open, and a handful of coins fall out, “is right here.”
A shrill, bitter rain begins to fall, icy and rigid down his back. It distorts the smells all around him, pine becomes ashes, blood becomes bile, everything turns bitter as he steps forward.
“Derek!” Allison yelps.
“You have the power, Derek. You can remake the world in whatever way you wish. You can bring the dead back to life. All of them Derek, everyone.”
“Stop it,” Allison’s words are laced with rage. “Gerard, don’t say another word to him.”
Gerard chuckles.
“Or what?”
She responds with another arrow, in his chest. Gerard groans around it, slumping forwards.
“It’s going to take more than arrows, Allison. You should know by now, what it takes to kill a demon. Derek knows, don’t you, Derek?”
Derek forces himself to look Gerard in the eye.
“No.”
“Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. What was it you had to do, to survive until now? I can smell Deucalion’s death all around you Derek. You owe your newfound strength to him, and his sacrifice. I think you’re like me, Derek.”
Another arrow sings over Derek’s shoulder, and he didn’t realize how close to the man he’d gotten until he feels it passing under him. Gerard’s body lurches, pinned to the tree, blood seeping into the ground, mixing with the thick rainfall.
“You’re the fist that cleanses the planet of the filth and the scum.” His mouth twists around the words. “I was hoping you’d be killed, but this is better, isn’t it? You can restart the world, Derek. You can put yourself by my side. Resurrect your family as hunters. You and I can be the kings of this world.” He glances over Derek’s shoulder. “You can have her.” His eyes glow. “You can have everything.”
Derek shakes his head, no, he’s not like… he remembers the feeling of his plasm wrapped around someone’s throat, and he doesn’t even remember who, or why, just Kate Argent, laughing in his ear, telling him good, good, more, do it Derek. The coins glitter on the ground, and he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t understand what’s expected of him, he needs to get the words out of his head, and Kate’s smile looks so much like Gerard. He knows he has to do something, that there’s something he needs to fix, but he can’t break the spell. The coins are so close he can see the inscription on the band.
“What do I need to do?”
Gerard is grinning. Allison is cursing.
“Touch them, Derek. Touch them, and take the power that’s yours.”
Breaking through the darkness, lightning strikes, and with it, the world howls.
|
"How could this have possibly happened?" Alya demanded. She let out a screech of pent up rage and frustration as she pulled at her hair from the roots. Nino sat across from her on his bed massaging his temples. His glasses lay discarded behind him and his eyes were pressed shut. "Really! How could this have possibly happened? We cleansed his akuma! Adrien should've been fine! So why is Chat Blanc still here! Can someone please tell me what is going on?"
"Alya, calm down." Tikki said soothingly as she flitted beside her. The poor thing was having trouble keeping up with Alya as she stormed around the room. The plate of cookies that had been brought up for her were untouched. "I know this is really distressing..."
"Distressing? Distressing! Losing my classwork is distressing. Not being able to find my history textbook is distressing. This! This is downright infuriating!" Alya continued.
"I think she's going to put a hole in your rug." Plagg pointed out from Nino's desk. His little voice was oh-so gleeful as he watched Alya pace. He was probably desperately hoping that he'd see fire or smoke or something coming from underneath her feet if he watched long enough. Unlike Tikki's plate of cookies, Plagg's cheese platter was almost completely empty now.
"Not helping Plagg." sighed Nino as he leaned back in his chair.
"Did he say anything else to you after you detransformed?" asked Alya. Nino jumped in surprise. He had no idea how Alya had gotten over to him so quickly but she had and was now gripping the chair arms with all the strength of a vice.
"I told you no!" Nino snapped. "We've been over this a thousand times Alya! I wasn't even expecting to find Adrien after Chat Blanc showed up to the fight with Open Book. I thought... Well y'know..."
"That he'd disappear to a deep, dark, evil lair to get scratches behind the ear from Papillion." Plagg offered helpfully.
Alya and Nino groaned in tandem. Alya let go of the arm rests and sunk to the ground. She twisted her back to Nino before burying her head in her propped up knees. Slowly, Nino laid his hands on her shoulders. "How did this happen," mumbled Alya as Nino ran his thumbs in circles across the tight muscles in her shoulders.
"I… I don't know. He was just standing there, on the sidewalk right where I'd left him. It was like he hadn't even moved. He asked me if I'd been able to find you and if you were alright. I was so in shock that I couldn't even ask him anything else. My mind… it just went completely blank."
She sighed "I know, I know. I'm sorry."
"There, there." Tikki said. She landed on Alya's head and stroked her hair kindly. "It's going to be okay."
"We'llsh gesh tu the bottomsh of thish." Plagg added reassuringly through a mouthful of cheese.
"There has to be a reasonable explanation for this all." Tikki told them both.
"Has this ever happened in the past?" Nino asked.
"Nope," Plagg answered, popping the 'p' sound. He wiped his chin with his tiny paw and grabbed Nino's glasses from the desk. Nino accepted them wordlessly as Plagg handed them to him before coming to hover in front of their faces. "To my knowledge this is a unique occurrence."
"Lucky us!" Alya said, waving her finger through the air in a whoop-de-doo motion. "And it just had to happen to one of our best friends. How can your best friend be so unlucky?"
"As interesting as it is to contemplate the fact that our dear friend Chat Blanc is back, there's something else that Tikki and I need to talk to you about." Plagg said gravely. It was so completely notlike him to sound so serious. Alya and Nino were immediately at attention.
"Oh Plagg, do we have to tell them right this instant? Can't we let them have a little bit of time to process what might be happening with Adrien?" Tikki's voice bordered on begging. She left Alya's head to float beside Plagg.
"Tell us what?" Nino asked, voice guarded. Alya looked up and gave the pair of Kwamis a careful look.
"What more could there possibly be?"
"It has to do with Adrien slash Chat Blanc though." Plagg told Tikki. It almost sounded like they'd already had this argument before. Then again, for all Nino and Alya knew they had. Alya twisted around to meet Nino's equally confused glance. Sometimes it was nice to know that they weren't alone in the whole cryptic centuries old beings department. Tikki gave a sigh but nodded all the same.
"You said that Chat Blanc took off with Open Book's exam right?" Tikki asked.
"For the hundredth time, yes." both Alya and Nino said together. Alya continued on, "He just kinda snatched it out from under our nose when we were with Amice. I was more concerned about making sure she was okay."
"I sorta forgot about Chat Blanc for a minute." Nino admitted.
Tikki winced. Plagg merely nodded solemnly, "This isn't good."
"Because Adrien's back to being Chat Blanc sporadically? We've kinda been saying that for the last few hours dude." Nino told him, raising an eyebrow.
"No, not just that…" Tikki said.
"There's more?" Alya sputtered incredulously.
"Ehh…" said Plagg right about the same time Tikki said, "Umm…"
"For both Alya's and my own sanity's sake, will one of you please just spit it out already?" begged Nino.
"You guys have to get back the test Chat Blanc stole." Plagg told them. His voice was still distinctly grim. Tikki, who was usually so animated and chipper, was just as somber. Never a good sign.
"Why? What's so important about it?" Alya pressed.
"There's residual magic in items that were formerly possessed. Nothing major. Not really that big of a deal." explained Plagg. "Not a lot but it's still magic."
Tikki picked up where he left off, "Typically the residual magic is harmless enough after the akuma is cleansed and it can go back to its original owner. That magic usually dissipates within a few hours anyways and it's like it was never there to begin with."
"You said typically." Nino pointed out, raising an eyebrow. He and Alya exchanged a quick, nervous look.
"Meaning something's different this time." Alya said.
Tikki and Plagg nodded in sync with one another. Alya bit her lip and once more looked at Nino. This time Nino was too busy rubbing his eyes to meet her look. "Again, dude, enough with the cryptic blather. Just tell us why we need to get that test back."
"Residual magic can be extracted and stored for another use." Tikki explained.
"By now though, all that residual magic should be gone. Amice Fontaine's test shouldn't be anything more than just a bunch of ordinary, stapled papers by now. It's been like… five hours guys." Nino pointed out, leaning forward in his chair. He stared intently at the two kwamis.
Plagg shrugged, "Again… under normal circumstances you would be totally correct. This isn't a normal circumstance. The moment Chat Blanc touched that test something about its magical signature changed. I doubt he even noticed it."
"In what way?" asked Nino. He hadn't realized that he'd clenched his hand into a fist until after Alya reached up and wrapped her hand around his. Nino let out a heavy sigh.
"I can't be completely sure but I felt a seal settle over something nearby. Seeing as how there were only three magical things in the immediate area to cast seals on and two of them are obviously unaffected then I'd have to make the inference that it was the exam." Tikki explained.
"A seal? Like putting a plug in a kitchen sink to keep water from draining." Alya said.
"Crude but yeah. Same basic principle. No magic out until someone breaks the seal." nodded Plagg.
Nino made the conclusion, "So we have to find this seal before Chat Blanc figures out how to break it and do whatever nefarious thing he has planned for that residual magic."
"How would Adr… Chat Blanc even know how to extract the magic and store it. Especially considering that you don't think he even realized that he set a seal over the test."
"Chat Blanc doesn't necessarily need to be the one to lift the seal and extract the magic. Someone else could…" Plagg's voice trailed off.
"It would be very easy for someone who knows a fair deal about magic and was the one who originally cast the magic." Tikki mused, her tiny face was scrunched up in worry.
For a moment, neither Alya or Nino could speak. They stared at Tikki and Plagg with wide, horrified eyes. "Sent the akuma you mean…" whispered Alya.
Tikki and Plagg only nodded.
Neither Alya or Nino said anything. They just sat there, jaws hanging open and staring at Tikki and Plagg. Nino broke the silence first. "Crap!" Nino breathed, beating the heel of his palm against his forehead.
"Tikki, please tell me this is a really bad joke." begged Alya.
"Sorry, it's the honest to gods truth." Plagg sighed. "Think of it this way. If your pal Chat Blanc has already taken it to good ole Papillion then you might be getting a more interesting fight the next time you go up against Chat Blanc."
Alya groaned. There was nothing else she could think of to say.
"Or a more powerful akuma. Papillion can only stick so much power into one of his little butterflies at a time because of his own limitations but who's to say if he had a little extra that just happened to be laying around." continued Plagg.
"Stop talking!" Nino snapped. "Just stop talking! Please. Just for a moment while I suppress my urge to scream."
"I think you're making it worse." Tikki whispered to Plagg.
Alya jumped to her feet. "Chat Blanc nearly got his hands on our Miraculous the first time we fought him. He was that strong! Can you imagine if he had a power upgrade? We'd be a toasted bug and kitty cat!"
"We have to get that test back." Nino said as he rose from his chair.
"Did you notice if Adrien was still holding the test when you saw him detransformed after the fight with Open Book?" asked Alya.
"No but he had his bag with him. Maybe it was in there."
"Either way, we have to check." Alya said. She reached across Nino's desk and grabbed the plate of cookies. "Tikki! Eat your cookies! We need to suit up."
"We're going over to Adrien's place?" Plagg asked. "Think I can raid that fancy kitchen. I bet there's some camembert that you're too stingy to buy Nino."
"You are not raiding Adrien's kitchen. We're going over there to search for that test and figure out why the hell Chat Blanc is even still an issue. I'll 'Cataclysm' the stupid butterfly myself if I have to. He's my best buddy and I'm not going to let anything hurt him." Nino growled as he twisted his silver ring on his finger.
He looked over and saw the smirk on Alya's face. "You are incredibly hot when you get all revved up and into hero mode." she told him.
Nino smirked back, "Shame you spread the rumor on the Ladyblog that Cat Noir plays for the other team."
"I don't regret it for a second Kit Cat Pattywhack. It protects your identity. We both know, however, that Nino plays both sides of the field and his current team captain is me. I consider myself pretty lucky."
"Ew! Gross! Will you please just transform. We don't have time to listen to the two of you flirt?" Plagg whined.
"Plagg, claws out!" called Nino.
Alya looked over at Tikki, who had just finished mowing her way through a cookie. "We're next Tik!"
"Ready!" she chirped.
"Tikki! Spots on!"
X X X
Adrien slipped into his bedroom and breathed a sigh of relief. "Coast is still clear. We made it." he murmured under his breath.
His hands were still shaking though as he flipped the light and threw his school bag on the bed. His shoulders and neck were aching from the way he'd been carrying himself, and the stress, all night long. Nathalie had gone home ages ago. Adrien had practically sneaked out the back door only minutes after Nathalie had gone out the front. The Gorilla was also gone too. His father had called him earlier that afternoon and had told him that he would be staying at his office late. However, Adrien hadn't been so certain that his father would still be out when he got back from his late night trip to Marinette's. Despite the fact that the house was still deserted, Adrien had still found him jumping at every creak of the stairs and freezing at every elongated shadow that loomed in the hallway.
Mari lit up his pendant. Not Christmas tree bright like it had been at school but with a soft dimness. Warmth touched his skin as a reassuring presence brushed across the back of his mind. Adrien grasped the pendant and let the warmth it emitted soak into his hand. The knots in his stomach loosened and the tightness between his shoulder blades dissipated. "We didn't get caught Mari. Our secret's still safe. Nobody even realized that I went out. I just have to make sure it stays that way."
The warmth cooled a bit and there was a quick flash as Mari separated from the pendant. "Any way you could tell me what exactly it is that is so important about that test? I thought of a few things that will be problematic while I was talking to Marinette. The last thing I want to do is put her in danger."
Mari landed on the top of his hand, antenna twitching in agitation. A memory of Papillon's voice demanding Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous played in his head. Mari followed it up with an image of the 'family portrait' that hung over the stairs with a really heavy emphasis on his father's face as Papillon's voice continued in his mind. There was a flash of him, as Chat Blanc, nearly filleting Ladybug and Cat Noir while laughing about it with unspoken question was attached to it.
"Exactly," Adrien nodded. "It looks like I'm living with the king of evil butterflies and once Papillon discovers that I'm kind of renegade there might be trouble."
This time Mari didn't show him an image. There was just another uncertain feeling in the back of his mind. It felt like a giant question mark hovering over the entire situation.
"I'm working on what I'm going to do but it definitely doesn't involve bringing home formerly possessed items for my dad to find. I definitely don't want to go back to what I was turned into." Adrien shuddered as he thought about the unbridled rage that had been going through him. This whole gather evidence and figure out whether his father was a dark mastermind or not had seemed so much easier the night before. In less than two hours he'd gone from completely confident to realizing that Ladybug, Cat Noir, and Papillon already knew who he was. I am off to one hell of a fantastic start here. "From here on out we have to be careful Mari. Really careful."
Mari's antennas twitched again with obvious irritation as an unspoken agreement filled the back of his brain as if to say, "Duh."
"First things first. I need you to figure out a way to tell me what's so important about Amice Fontaine's test… other than it being a formerly possessed item."
Mari's wings fluttered indignantly. A slew of confusing images cut through Adrien's mind. He shook his head to try and clear them.
"This would be so much easier if you could actually talk." he muttered under his breath. The response he got was a quick and clear agitation. The term 'shut up' was pretty clear even if there weren't words to express it. Adrien huffed, "Alright, sorry geeze! I know you usually have no problem expressing yourself but how am I supposed to understand what's going on through impressions and your memory inducement?"
Thunk!
Adrien jumped. His entire body jerked to face the balcony. He'd closed the blinds before he'd left for Marinette's house that evening so he couldn't see. It was clear, however, that something had just landed on the balcony outside. "What the…" he whispered under his breath.
Before he could get the rest of the thought out, Mari leaped off his hand and merged with his pendant in a hurry. Adrien blinked in surprise as the light died away from the pendant. That was weird. The knock on his window came seconds later. Adrien jumped out of his seat and slowly made his way to the sliding glass door that lead out on to the balcony. He had a feeling he was about to see why Mari had disappeared all of a sudden.
He pulled on the string to lift the blinds. Standing on his balcony was Ladybug and Cat Noir…
Great! They're here a lot earlier than I thought they'd be, he thought. Marinette had been right when she'd predicted that Ladybug and Cat Noir would come knocking on his door for an explanation sooner rather than later. Adrien swallowed back the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. Mari brushed against his mind in warning but he ignored it. It looked like the curtain was going up on his act a little earlier than he'd anticipated. I really wish I had more time to practice this…
"Ladybug! Cat Noir!" Adrien gasped as he threw open his door. He let his jaw drop and his eyes go wide. "What are you two doing here?"
"Adrien Agreste," Ladybug said as she put her hands on her hips, "we need to talk to you. Do you have a few minutes?"
Adrien had to fight really, really hard not to grimace. Her tone was all business. Yeah, he didn't even need three guesses to figure out why that was exactly. Thank goodness his father had forced him to model all those years. It had taught him how to control his facial expressions. Who'd have thought it come in handy for this?
Adrien plastered on a happy, oblivious grin that took up his entire face. "Ladybug and Cat Noir? Here! At my house wanting to talk to me? Of course I've got time. I was just about to go get ready for bed, early photo shoot you know, but this is way too cool! Come on in!"
He stepped aside and threw his hand wide in welcome. Cat Noir followed Ladybug in, his eyes watching Adrien closely. Anticipating an attack maybe, thought Adrien as he shut the door after them. The way Cat Noir gripped his staff was pretty telling. That wasn't even touching on the way Ladybug was resting her fingers on her yo-yo. Definitely anticipating an attack… or at least something like that to happen.
"There was an akuma attack at your school today," started Cat Noir. His fingers drummed against his staff lightly. Ladybug was looking around his bedroom. Her eyes seemed to linger on the pair of foils that hung over his bed in decoration. C'mon! If he were going to choose a weapon, it wasn't going to be those foils. They weren't even sharp!
Adrien covered up his irritation with a mild mannered grin. "Right. When my class broke for lunch. Open Book or something like that. My friend and I saw her come whipping out of the school like a maniac. Chased a teacher right down the stairs and down the sidewalk in front of us. It was pretty crazy."
Ladybug and Cat Noir exchange a quick look. Adrien could've sworn he saw some confusion pass through their eyes. Then again it might have been his imagination. Ladybug shot him a careful glance. "There were two of them actually. Open Book and Chat Blanc."
She let the words hang in the air. They were both watching him. Gauging his reaction. Now would not be a good time to screw up.
"Whoa! No way!" he gasped, jaw dropping. Earnesty filled his voice. "I've heard a lot about that guy. He's supposed to be brutal! Are you two okay? He didn't hurt you right? I mean, I was told that he nearly impaled you guys a few times the last time you all fought."
Ladybug and Cat Noir drew back quickly. Okay! That was definitely shock on their faces. Shock and confusion. Wow, I might actually get away with this. It surprised even him. He shot fast looks at both the heroes. They'd seemingly recovered… and were back to looking cautious.
"We're fine Adrien." Cat Noir told him quickly.
"We had him on the run this time." Ladybug added.
Adrien bit back a sarcastic remark. Before they had him on the run, Chat Blanc had probably helped save their skins. Cat Noir had been moments away from losing his Miraculous right before Chat Blanc had stepped in. Funny how they'd forgotten about that. Mari gave him a warning feeling in the back of his head. It wasn't like he was about to point that out.
"Um… No offense but why exactly are you telling me this?" Adrien asked. Total lie of course. He knew exactly what the point of this expedition was. They were on a fishing trip.
"We're talking to people who were at the school when the attack happened. Chat Blanc got away and we're hoping that someone saw something." explained Ladybug.
"Maybe which way he went. Chat Blanc managed to get away with something important and we've got to find both him and what he stole." Cat Noir said.
Adrien shook his head, "I'm sorry. I only saw Open Book and even then I only stayed on the sidewalk. I was waiting for my friend to come back. Speaking of which… have you talked to Nino yet? He was the one I was waiting for. Or maybe his girlfriend, Alya? She runs the Ladyblog and was trying to get footage of the fight. Nino ran off to find her. Maybe they saw something?"
"They're on our list." Cat Noir said quickly. Ladybug only nodded dismissively. Yeah, they were only talking to him because he was Chat Blanc. All the more reason to make this work. Time to add the last piece of plan.
"I'm sorry. I can't really help. I didn't see anything. I didn't leave that spot. Besides, it was over so quickly wasn't it? I mean… Nino wasn't gone for more than a couple of minutes so it wasn't like there was a lot to witness." Adrien shrugged unaffectedly.
"Dude… the fight lasted like ten or fifteen minutes." Cat Noir pointed out. The look on his and Ladybug's face were identical. Pure confusion and shock. Adrien let himself laugh.
"I think you're a little confused because there's no way I waited that long. Trust me… I think I would know."
Ladybug and Cat Noir exchanged a look. Adrien didn't miss the way they looked at him from the corner of their eyes. It wasn't any secret that akuma victims had zero memory of what happened to them. He'd make that piece of information to work for him!
The two heroes shifted uneasily. Cat Noir gave a slight, almost imperceptible, nod. Slowly, Ladybug gave him a weak smile. She reached out her hand and patted his shoulder. "Thank you for your help Adrien. You've… you've been a big help." she told him, thin relief evident in her voice.
They'd bought it! They believed that he had a huge gaping hole in his memory from the time he'd spent as Chat Blanc!
A sudden, sharp demanding impression shot through his skull. Mari pushed the memory of him stealing the test to forefront of his mind. Adrien nearly winced and clutched at his pendant. Timing leaves something to be desired Mari, he shot back silently. He dropped his hand before Cat Noir or Ladybug thought too much about it. "Can I ask what he stole? And, uh, what's so important about it?" he inquired with a nonchalance that really should've won him an award.
"Nothing really all that big of a deal." Ladybug assured him simply.
Mari's disappointment surged through him. He kind of agreed, but it wasn't like getting Ladybug and Cat Noir to tell a former enemy an important piece of information was going to be that easy. It looked like Mari was going have to figure out a way to tell him what was so important about Amice Fontaine's test because it was evident that Ladybug and Cat Noir weren't going to do it for them. Adrien shrugged and nodded in response.
Cat Noir started to say something but then abruptly stopped. He twisted to look around Adrien at the door. "Someone just came in the front door." he whispered.
Adrien went cold. His father! It had to be. He stared at Ladybug and Cat Noir. There was no possible way to keep the color from draining out of his face. Ladybug and Cat Noir were standing in his bedroom. They had their Miraculous with them. His father, the possible master of rage-inducing possessing butterflies, had just gotten home and Ladybug and Cat Noir were just chilling in his room! If his father found them… "You can't be here." he breathed. "You have to leave now! My dad will be pissed if he sees you here."
That was understatement of the year.
Ladybug looked at Cat Noir, "We should get going. Lots of other people to touch base with tonight."
"Right," he answered. They both turned for the balcony door. Adrien had to physically restrain himself from shoving them out the door faster. "Thanks again for your help Adrien."
"Yeah, no problem. Have a good night." he said. At least he didn't have to pretend or stay in some sort of character.
Adrien barely got the door closed and the blinds drawn again before he heard his bedroom door open. "Adrien?" came his father's voice.
Adrien spun around, fixing a forced smile on to his face. "You're home! I thought you'd be out later than this." he said brightly.
Gabriel Agreste raised his eyebrow questioningly, "Don't you have an early photo shoot tomorrow? Shouldn't you be in bed?"
"I was… uh… I just finished my homework and I'm getting ready for bed now." Adrien told him.
His father looked at him with careful regard for a moment and then nodded. "Very well then. Good night Adrien."
"Good night Dad."
Without saying another word, his father left the room. There was a click as the door shut after him. A moment later, Mari emerged from his pendant. Adrien's scalp tickled as Mari perched on his head. He swallowed back a lump in his throat. "That was too close. There's no way of knowing what he would have done to them if he'd found them here." he whispered. "We have to figure out for sure my father is Papillon…"
Suddenly all Adrien could really think about was just how close he'd come to stealing Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous as Chat Blanc. How close Open Book had come as well. All it took was one slip up on their part. One slip up and Papillon would have the Miraculous for whatever dark purpose he wanted them for.
"And we have to keep Ladybug and Cat Noir from falling into his hands in the meantime."
Mari's wings bobbed in agreement. Adrien wrapped his arms around his chest. He hoped that Mari could figure out a way to tell him why it had been so imperative to steal Amice Fontaine's test soon. He had a feeling that was going to be very important in the very near future. |
Prompt: A fic describing situations in which Gaby/Illya have received backlash from other people for daring to be a German and a Russian engaged in a relationship. PS- Love this blog and always look forward to updates. Thanks for your hard work!
Their engagement is only a classic cover story but it doesn’t stop the waiter from making a snide comment or two. They start off as snippy and turn to sly insults that could almost be missed if they weren’t paying attention. Gaby’s hand closes over her wine glass and she’s trying to count the cars going by. The same dark blue wagon has gone around three times since they’ve started their dinner and their meal had yet to arrive. Illya sits across from her, outside of the beautiful Parisian restaurant where his gaze constantly flicks from the road, to Solo’s hiding place, to Gaby. He lets his gaze linger just a millisecond longer on the woman across from him. Her hand is closed tightly on the stem of the wine glass, fingers shaking the liquid about. He glances at the ring on her finger and then back to the waiter who is giving them a not-so-friendly look.
“I don’t get why it’s his business.” She spits out the words carefully, keeping her voice low to avoid anyone overhearing their conversation. The restaurant is busy, buzzing with life and everyone is seated too close together, but it has the best view of the street where Gaby can sit across from Illya and wait for their mark. Gaby shifts in her seat, uncrossing her legs and recrossing them all over again. Her cream colored dress reflects the candle lights beautifully, but she has somehow already managed to get red wine on the front of it.
Illya looks away from the red stain on her dress and catches her gaze. She gives him a sharp look and repeats her words with a little more emphasis. Her voice is strained and she’s obviously upset, “It’s not any of his business.”
Her fingers absently play with the fake engagement ring. The little black pearl is still an active tracker, warm against her calloused fingers as she twists and turns the ring on her finger, trying to make herself remember they are on a mission. This is no time to lose her temper. She can’t help it, every time she gets close to the man across from her, something in the universe pulls them apart.
“Is not.” He can only nod in agreeance as the dark blue car makes its fourth trip, slowly cruising past them as Illya reaches for his own glass, but skips the wine and goes for the water instead. Gaby is on her second glass of wine and at this rate, she will finish his next before he can finish the water. With the glass against his lips he mutters softly with that low accented tone of his, “Four times, Cowboy. ”
Napoleon’s voice crackles over their little communications devices. Gaby flicks her gaze to the waiter as she puts down her glass and moves for Illya’s wine. The expensive red liquid is delicious and calming to her nerves. She feels her patience pushed a little more on the edge though when the waiter scoffs, making his way over to them.
“More wine Madam?” The waiter asks, quickly with a sharp tone to his voice as if he’s inconvenienced by speaking to her.
Gaby straightens a bit, “I would like more yes, leave the bottle.”
The waiter stiffens for a moment, pouring her drink as she leans on the table a little further. Before Illya can stop her, she reaches out and grabs the waiter’s white shirt. Her fingers curl in a little fist and she yanks the skinny man down to her level. Her teeth are grit as she speaks to him. A few patrons enjoying their dinner are watching now as Gaby spits out her words. Her teeth grind slightly as she threatens the man, “You will stop treating me and my fiance like we are common rats. Or I will deal with you, not him.” She cuts her gaze to Illya. Illya looks much more intimidating than Gaby. He stands nearly taller than most and has a cold stare that can calm even the wildest of fires. Still, there’s something much more threatening about a small German woman with her claws in his shirt.
“There will be no need Madam!” The waiter doesn’t blink at her threat as he yanks back from Gaby’s grip, “I will not serve Russian trash, nor you for laying with him. Do you not have any respect? German woman in love with a Russian man? You must really enjoy that iron curtain.”
Illya’s hands are shaking and he stands now, knocking his chair back so hard it falls into the guests behind them as he stands, the waiter backs away from the table and Gaby stands to grab onto Illya’s clenched fists. Her hands wrench his downwards and before she can shout something in her native tongue to the waiter, the sound of gunshots echoes. Patrons go screaming, glass shatters and the waiter is taken out by a stray bullet as the dark blue car takes off.
“They missed their target.” Napoleon’s voice echoes over the coms but Gaby has little to no remorse in her voice as she scoffs.
“I should send them flowers.” Her gaze cuts from the bleeding man to Illya who is still shaking. His pale face is red and his lips are pulled tight as she strokes the insides of his wrists with the pads of her thumbs.
“That was not kind.” Illya finally ground out the words but Gaby shakes her head as she steps into him and slides an arm inside of his jacket. With a soft squeeze she hugs him tightly. Her fake engagement pressing into his back as her head curls into his chest, “We should move before our guests come back to finish the job.”
He doesn’t squeeze Gaby back, just pulls away with a sad look touching his features. The waiter’s words still echoing in his head. All the terrible things his country has done to hers will shadow them indefinitely. |
Magnus could hear voices.
They were scattered all around him, every single word unintelligible and said by voices he recognized. Tones he had become accustomed to throughout his years. Some light and airy. Some eternally moody and wise. They were his only companions in this darkness.
One voice stood out the most. This voice was deep, and it held both Idris and New York in its notes, a combination that soothed Magnus. The more he concentrated on that voice, the clearer the words it spoke became.
You're confusing me.
Everything I have ever known-
I don't think they'll ever forgive me.
You watch the people you care about age and die.
I'm sorry.
Magnus wanted to find that voice. Everything the voice said struck a chord inside him, making him reach out with a hand he couldn't see. He clung onto those words like they were pieces of the puzzle that had become his mind. The words were made of smoke; they slipped away from him, as did the darkness.
When Magnus's eyes finally opened, he was lost. There was a dim glow where he was, and shadows that told him a small light lit the room. He was breathing hard, and he felt trapped where he was. He tried to recall the voices, the words, but they didn't come. They had abandoned him, leaving behind frustration that grew in his chest by the second.
The room was suddenly illuminated with a dim blue glow, and he felt the tickle of flames on his fingers. He sat up and reached out with his fire-bearing hand, held out over his head until a hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist, forcing his hand back down on the bed. Another hand placed itself on his chest and pushed him back on the bed.
Magnus realized it was Alec and felt tragically resentful towards him. He tried to pull his hand away and push with his other, forcing Alec to press down with his own body so he could use his other hand to stop him. Finally Magnus was pinned, Alec towering over him.
"Get off of me." He spat out, his voice thrumming with power. He had so much within him, but none of it could be used against Alec. He didn't have it within him to do so.
Alec didn't move. "Put away the fire." His voice was low, almost a whisper.
Magnus wanted to scream. Irritation was growing within him like a wildfire as he struggled. He caught a glint in Alec's eyes, making him falter. The blue light revealed hidden lines in Alec's face that showed worries too old for someone so young.
Young in a world where immortals roamed.
His skin was too pale. The circles under his eyes were dark and prominent. The more his eyes trailed over Alec's sharp lines, the more fragile they became. Magnus forgot why he was angry. He wondered if he ever really knew why.
The blue glow left the room. Alec released Magnus's wrist and began pulling away, but Magnus reached up and touched his cheek, stilling him.
His skin was soft and pliant when he unconsciously leaned into Magnus's hand. Alec caught himself and tensed up. He seemed unsure, but his eyes didn't leave Magnus's as they searched. What Magnus saw in those depths brought him back toevery moment since they had met in Pandemonium.
"Oh, Alec," His voice was significantly softer than it had been only a moment before,"I didn't know."
Alec closed his eyes when Magnus's fingers started to trail over the side of his face. "Know what?"
"You've been so sad. All this time..." His fingers reached Alec's lips. They looked abused, bit on by the teeth of a worried man. Without a thought, a tiny blue spark revealed itself, meant to heal those lips.
Alec's eyes were screwed shut now, tighter than before. He pulled away from Magnus's hand and moved away from the bed. Magnus's hand was still reached out into the air when Alec turned away, his back facing Magnus. His hand had reached up to comb itself through his hair and then scratch there, stressed.
"Do you remember what happened?" Alec asked, not looking back.
Magnus sat up and fought against the need to reach out and touch Alec again. He remembered going to a warehouse, but he didn't remember why he was drawn to it. He remembered anger, desperation...
I'm sorry.
Magnus stared at the shadow Alec's tall figure created as he thought. Alec had been there. He remembered Alec's arms around him, restraining him while...
"Where is she?" Magnus asked.
Alec was looking back now, inspecting Magnus with tired eyes. There was nothing harsh in them, and Magnus couldn't think of a time Alec's eyes weren't gentle looking at him.
Magnus felt troubled by them. "Alec...I don't know why Catarina decided to involve you in whatever this is, but this has been going on since before I met you, I think. You're not responsible, you don't have to be here."
Alec said nothing.
Catarina chose that moment to enter the dim lit room, a mug held in her cerulean hand. Her hair was pinned up loosely, and Magnus realized she was exhausted too. Her face was trained into the expression of a kind nurse on night shift.
"Magnus! So glad to see you're awake." She looked at Alec who was looking at her. Magnus looked back and forth between them and felt confused as he sensed their wordless conversation. Whatever had passed between them convinced Alec to leave.
He walked out quickly and Magnus watched as he did before looking back at Catarina. It had occurred to him in that moment, as he looked beyond her, that he was in his bedroom.
Catarina sat down on the edge of his bed, placing the mug on his bedside table.
"How are you feeling?" She asked kindly. Magnus looked at the mug and then back at her.
"Is that drugged?" His voice was almost spiteful.
She shook her head and pulled out a small vial from the folds of her skirt, placing it next to the mug. It was filled with a glowing yellow substance. "It can be."
He stared at the vial. feeling slightly light headed. "How long have you been doing that?"
She played with the vial, letting it clink with the mug a few times. "Two months, give or take."
Magnus could have expressed many emotions at this information. He fought down the impulsive urges, because what he needed most at that moment was to understand. "Why?"
"You needed it."
Magnus took a deep breath. "Two months. What happened two months ago?"
Catarina stilled her hand. "Why don't you tell me?"
Magnus just looked at her, not getting it.
She leaned in, her eyes hard on his. "Why did you go to that warehouse?"
"I needed somewhere to go."
"So you chose that warehouse."
Magnus's irritation returned at that. He leaned in, mimicking her. "What's so special about that one?"
"I think you know."
"I don't."
She tapped her fingers against the bed. "You were drawn to it. You must remember something."
Remember. The saying of that word was becoming a common occurrence, and it's undertones were unnerving him.
"Are you saying that I've forgotten something?"
She leaned back now, looking down, seeming to collect her thoughts. Magnus wondered when his hand had started to clutch the satin sheet, as it was doing now.
"Magnus." Her voice was gentle.
"Catarina." His was insistent.
"Two months ago, at that warehouse...there was an accident. You were injured."
Magnus listened, forcing himself to breathe steadily.
"You were brought somewhere safe and I took care of you. You had a severe head injury. When you woke up, it became apparent that you did not have any recollection of what happened, nor were you able to answer every question I asked you about your past."
He thought for a moment, then said."Retrograde amnesia."
She nodded. "Yes. It wasn't..." She took a deep breath, "It's supposed to only be temporary. My plan was to stay with you and look over your injury until it was healed and you remembered. And I think you were beginning to. You would...react a certain way when you saw or talked to certain people from those memories you lost."
"How did I react?"
She paused for a moment. "Negatively."
"Negatively?"
"Sometimes violently."
Violently. Surely this couldn't have been true. He hadn't been one to lose control since he was a child. And yet...when he woke up, he held fire in his hand with no good intentions. He tore that broken warehouse down further, revealing everything he felt inside. Alec had to hold him down both times, reigning in the demons Magnus didn't know he had.
Catarina continued. "It isn't always. Sometimes you'll simply be distressed. You'll get tired. I've been trying to find a way to give you back your memories without you having these attacks. All I asked for was time until I could make sure you were ready. I asked for them to stay away until then."
Magnus's eyes had strayed away from her, trailing over his sheets as his thoughts scattered and his breathing became harder to steady. When her words connected in his mind, he looked back. "They?"
"Magnus," Catarina leaned forward and was speaking quickly now, as if she could sense his overwhelming thoughts, threatening to shut him off from her,"You've lived a very long time. You're not human, so it's hard to treat you correctly when there haven't been many cases of warlocks with amnesia. All I have to use are human records, and it had occurred to me a while ago that they are only so helpful, because warlock brains are wired differently, built to retain more. While I've been watching you, I've observed your reactions. You react differently to things that are from times you can't remember. From what I can tell, you've lost many memories throughout your existence, six months to maybe even a year worth of memories lost each couple of decades. You've lived so long that you don't even notice those lost years."
He was breathing harder now. "Who are they, Catarina?"
A sigh. Two eyes watching. Three quick breaths.
Finally, she spoke. "Alec and his friends."
Alec.
A long moment stretched between them as Magnus fought to comprehend everything she was saying. "I don't understand."
"You knew him, Magnus. Before you lost your memory. He was with you when it happened, and he was the one who brought you to me."
Magnus stared off into the distance, struggling to let that sink in without choking him. His chest was tight.
I'm sorry.
Magnus thought of his tired eyes. Alec was exhausted. Alec was sad. Magnus had thought this was a burden he needed to keep from Alec, but this had been their shared burden from the beginning. Before they had even...before he thought they met.
Oh god. Who was Alec? Who was he, truly, to Magnus?
The clink of glass against ceramic brought him back to the present. He looked and saw that Catarina had the vial in her hand, still filled with the potion.
"I can put this in your tea if you want." She said quietly, revisiting her previous offer.
"What's giving me a choice?"
"We were giving it to you to keep you calm. All the time you've been spending with him on top of your growing immunity for it means it'll have no real effect on you soon. I'll have to make a stronger one. But...I'm hoping that if you're aware of your situation, you'll be able to stop the attacks yourself. I can't keep making stronger potions. It won't help you forever."
Magnus shook his head. "I don't want it."
Catarina nodded and put the vial back in her skirt. After another long moment filled with an impending past Magnus couldn't leave behind, she rose from the bed and walked towards the door. She knew him well enough to know when he needed a moment alone. A moment to think.
A moment to breathe.
Alec was leaning over the kitchen counter, both of his hands supporting him against it as his head was tilted towards the ground, his eyes closed. A glass filled with water rested on the counter in front of him. He was focused on his breathing, ignoring thoughts that threatened to unsteady him.
When Catarina appeared, he turned towards her.
"What happened?" He asked, almost frantically.
She sighed and patted her hair down, smoothing it out. "I'm giving him a moment to let it sink in."
A chill traveled down his spine. "You told him?"
"You knew I would."
He nodded and then hesitated before he spoke again. "Everything?"
She understood what he wanted to know. "I told him you were with him in the warehouse when it happened. I told him he knew you before."
He nodded and turned away, scratching the back of his head.
"You should go home and rest." Her hand touched Alec's shoulder, sensing tension.
"I'm staying here."
Another sigh. Alec spoke, knowing she would insist. "I'll sleep on the couch. You've been using too much magic since yesterday. You should go home."
"If something happens..."
He turned again to look at her. "I'll be here."
Her eyes narrowed. "But you'll call me, yes?"
Alec nodded.
She looked at him, considering. She seemed to have went through many possible situations in her mind before she relented. "Alright, then."
When she left, Alec remained with a sunken stomach and chaotic thoughts. The hallway that leads to Magnus's bedroom screamed at him, an impending future waiting for him.
He goes for the glass of water, taking a long gulp. He held the glass too loosely, and so when he pulled it away from his lips, it fell to the floor. The glass shattering was deafening in the silence.
He could have caught it before it touched the ground. His reflexes would have allowed it. He simply hadn't cared enough in the moment to do so.
He bent down to pick up the shards, placing them on the counter. He grabbed one of the towels hung on the handle before turning back to the puddle.
He bent back down and began soaking up the water with the towel. He heard the sound of a foot tapping and an exaggerated sigh.
"You know, most people would be pleased at the idea of having not having to clean up glass because they have a magical boyfriend."
Alec shook his head, not turning around. "You were sleeping."
When Magnus walked around to stand in front of Alec, he looked up. Magnus's face was devoid of makeup, and all he wore was a shimmery silk robe left partly open, leaving little to the imagination.
Not that Alec would have needed that.
"As you should be. It's three in the morning." Magnus's expression was one of mock disapproval.
"I was thirsty."
"Hmmm." Magnus bent down and picked up a shard near Alec's hand, one that he had missed.
"What's your excuse for being awake?"
"My portable heater disappeared. I was left cold and alone in my bed."
Alec rolled his eye. "I was gone for five minutes."
"Too long." Magnus smiled, and the action made his golden-green eyes almost glow.
Alec forced himself to look away so that he could continue, but he found that all the water had disappeared, leaving the floor dry as though it was never there. Alec kept his head tilted down, but his eyes looked up at Magnus.
His smile had turned wider and he reached out to touch Alec's chest, pulling on his shirt. Alec let him, meeting Magnus in a kiss. His hands brushed the edges of where Magnus's robe opened, feeling both silk and skin.
Magnus held onto one of his hands and pulled back, his head tilted up, his nose brushing Alec's.
"You should come back to bed." His tone was slightly suggestive.
"I can't." Alec found himself saying.
Magnus raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"I'm not ready."
Alec felt a stinging pain in his hand. A sharp line of red trailed along his palm where glass had cut him, caused by a forgotten shard. The pain had awaken him from his daydream, his memory, before reality had needlessly intertwined with it.
When the mess was gone and his cut was cleaned, he moved to the couch where he would sleep until Magnus came out. If Magnus wasn't out by the time he woke up, then he would wait.
Forever, if he had to.
|
Chapter 6: The Final Submission
Titus guided his motorcycle between some traffic cones blocking the entrance to a parking area off the bay. Pullovers like this were all over South Florida. They usually had views of the clear blue water, palm trees, and a couple of picnic tables with grills. This one was no exception. This one contained a little cove and was almost entirely enclosed by some mangroves giving it some privacy. Beth didn't know why it was closed off as there was no construction going on nearby. Otherwise, it was empty, but for an abandoned van in the parking lot with a red kerchief sticking out the window. The van had side windows and looked like a relic from the 1970s.
"I found this driving down to the keys," said Titus, parking his bike behind the van to hide it from drivers on the road. "It's completely private." He took some tanning oil out of a storage compartment on his bike.
"Looks like someone's been here," said Beth, nodding her head towards a blanket laid out on the sand. It was parallel to the van, blocking its view from the road. The owners of the blanket must have selected it for a nice view of the scenery as the blue cove was behind it with palm trees on the other side. "It hasn't been here long either. It doesn't have any sand or debris on it."
"I doubt anyone's coming back for it." Titus tossed his phone on the blanket, for once not setting it up to film her. Beth found that act weirdly touching. He walked down past the blanket, leaned forwards and pulled the shorts down. His cock sprang up immediately, sticking out, but bent down.
Beth slowly followed. Her eyes staring at the black man's imposing physique. He had such strength, such a presence of raw masculinity. At some point, over the last two weeks, she'd started finding his muscles attractive. She was staring at his chest as she walked up, her hand moving down to his shaft. It stiffened the moment her fingers wrapped around it. Did it have any limits? Did it ever not get hard? She angled her head up as he leaned down to kiss her. The moment their lips touched, she melted into his arms.
Titus pulled back and spun her around facing the van. "Let's get you out of this," he whispered kissing her neck. Beth's hand came back stroking his cock while he untied the strings behind her neck. Her top fell off into the sand. Strong black hands slid down her ribs, her waist, stopping at her hips. Her panty fell down into the sand. She shivered at his touch.
Smack!
Beth jumped as his palm came down on her ass. She spun around, but Titus was already wading into the water, laughing. Beth walked down into the water. It felt amazing to be outside, exposed to the world. Titus was swimming to the center of the cover. Water tended to be shallow off the beaches and this cove was no exception, but it got deep enough, she could squat up to her neck. Titus swam up to her and pulled her to her feet, kissing her again.
Titus took her hand, his cock leading the way up to the blanket. He grabbed the tanning lotion and filled his palm with the oil. "Don't want you to burn," he said, with a wink. His powerful hands were soon running all over her body, coating it with oil. This man could give a hell of a massage if he wanted. His roaming hands were both relaxing and arousing as he paid a lot of attention to rubbing out into her breasts, flickering her hard nipples over her thumbs. He stopped, pouring more oil into his palm. "Better get your back too," he said, but instead of spinning her around, he hugged her slick body to his hard chiseled one. He reached around, rubbing his hands on her back. Her belly pressed into his hard cock and she could feel it throbbing with desire for her. It jerked multiple times, squirting precum on her stomach when his hands moved down to her rear. He covered her butt cheeks in oil, even making sure her crack was wet and coated. "Do me," he ordered.
Beth leaned down and grabbed the lotion bottle off the blanket. She paused coming back up to kiss the head of his cock. Titus nodded approvingly at the gesture. She stood, filling her much smaller palms with the oil. His chest was already slick from hugging her, but she started with it. Her hands ran over his black skin, feeling every muscle on his chest. Beth's breathing grew heavy., touching his body like this, the contrast of her white hands on his dark skin had her pussy leaking its arousal. He flexed his arms and she coated his biceps noticing that it would take three or four of her hands to encircle his arm at its thickest. She slid one wet hand back down his chest, his stomach, and into his pubes. Now his breathing turned heavy when her hand slid back and forth over his cock. He pulled it from her grasp turning around so that she could coat his back, moving down to his hard ass cheeks. When she finished, they both stood back, glistening in the sunlight, staring at each other's bodies.
Titus reached out and took her hand leading her to the blanket, placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down. Beth fell to her knees and found herself staring down the length of his shaft. She felt she'd never get used to the sight of it. Thirteen inches of hard black steel sticking straight out from his groin. The world's most perfect phallus attached to the most deplorable man she'd ever met. Beth leaned forward and kissed the tip, looking up at him towering over her. His phone chimed, and he glanced down at it. The next thing he did was somewhat unusual. Titus reached down and rubbed one side of her face, moving her hair back and holding it against her head. He pulled forwards gently, urging her to start sucking. She did, though what she really wanted was to have this monster thrusting in and out of her pussy. He continued holding her hair while she sucked his shaft, massaging his heavy balls as she managed to kiss his pubes.
The phone chimed again.
Titus gave it a glance before releasing her hair and pushing her head back until his cock sprang out. "On your back," he ordered.
Beth nodded eagerly, staring at his cock as she sat back, opening her legs while leaning back on her hands. Titus kneeled, his cock was sticking up. He bent it down rubbing her pussy lips before pushing harder, watching her open around the head as he slipped inside. Titus hefted her legs up and began working his cock in deeper as Beth laid down on her back. She moaned as he penetrated her. It had been too long. Titus worked his cock in and out, before pushing it all the way inside. He held still looking down while Beth ground her pussy into the root of his shaft, eyes closed, smiling lazily while she made circular motions with her hips around his cock. "Yes, fuck me now. Please?"
Titus phone chimed.
"Sure baby. Just tell me what you want."
"I want you to fuck me."
"Louder baby. Tell the world what you want."
"I want to be FUCKED!" she cried, grunting the last word out.
"With what, baby?"
"With you BIG... BLACK... COCK! FUCK ME WITH YOU BIG BLACK COCK!"
"That's good, baby," he said, starting to work his hips. "You like this big black cock?"
"I love it, Titus. I love it. I can't believe how good it makes me feel. I'm CUMMING already!
"Let it out baby, feel that black nigger cock making you cum."
Beth did let it out. She thrashed her head left to right, humping up into his thrusting cock. She squeezed and pinched her own nipples, their sensitivity adding to her orgasm's strength. "So good. So good."
"Better than your husband's?"
"So much better. So much bigger."
"Gonna fuck you hard now, baby."
"DO IT! FUCK ME HARD! I WANT YOUR CUM! MORE! CUM CUM CUMMING!"
Titus cut loose, once again Beth couldn't believe the stamina the man had to fuck her so hard and fast. She thrashed back and forth, raising her hips into each thrust of his cock, trying to keep up with his speed, cumming repeatedly.
"Getting close baby."
"Seed me! Fill me up, Titus."
The phone chimed again.
"Fuck," grunted Titus, sounding angry. He pulled out before he came, ignoring her wish. Titus stroked his cock a couple of times, resting on one hand while jerking his cock off. The first stream of ejaculate shot across one breast, the end falling on her navel. The second splattered on one tit. He raised his squirting cock, shooting strands of cum on her face. Beth turned away, closing her eyes quickly before turning her head back and opening her mouth. Sperm fell across her nose with some falling in her mouth.
Beth opened her eyes and raised her head in time to see the final wad essentially just fall from the tip of his cock to splatter on her pubic mound. Titus' final glob of sperm was greater than one of David's entire orgasms, but then the black man's balls were as big as some of the small green coconuts laying around the lagoon. Beth hadn't seen the full amount of one of his orgasms since the first time she'd jerked him off. "I can't believe how much you cum," she said, staring down her body. She slid her fingers into the pool in her navel, rubbing it around her oiled stomach. Her hand moving onto her breast, rubbing his semen into her tits. Her nipples were so sensitive, just touching them started to make her horny again.
The phone chimed. Titus glanced down at it as the screen lit up.
"Who's texting you? Some slut no doubt," she said jealously.
"No doubt. Go rinse off and we'll go for round two."
Beth climbed to her feet and walked down to the lagoon. She waded in and squatted, splashing water on herself while kneeling in the water as she cleaned.
"Beth," called Titus. "Turn towards me."
Beth looked over her shoulder. "Why?"
"I want to look at you," he said. She stood and turned, water dripping from her body. The massive black man squirted some oil into his palm and began stroking his plump cock. It stiffened immediately as he watched her clean off. She dipped her head and hair into the water, flinging it up and back as she stood, walking back towards him.
Titus sat on the blanket, facing her. He spread his legs, cock sticking up and out, rampant, and shiny.
Beth stared at it as he approached. He laid on his back, holding it up. She straddled him and held herself open as she lowered herself over his erection. The head spread her pussy lips open, stretching them wide before it slipped in. Beth moaned, lowering herself further. She was taking him easier each time they fucked, her vagina stretching to conform to his size like she truly was born for big black cock.
Beth lowered herself until she was sitting in his lap, hands resting on his chest, eyes closed, just enjoying the feeling of true fulfillment. She felt his hands caress her breasts. They were slick from the tanning oil. He recoated her front until her voluptuous body glistened in the sunlight. She slowly started to ride him. "Oh god, you're so big," she moaned, throwing back her head. Her pussy contracted all over his big dick as she came. Her contractions pulled inwards, trying to milk the voluminous seed from the black cock. Her vagina wouldn't reject this man's seed. Her pussy craved it.
"Keep talking, gurl," he whispered. "It turns me on."
"Fill my white pussy. Fuck me with that big black cock. You fuck me so much better than my husband."
"That's good," he whispered again. Louder, he said, "Now get off and get on all fours."
Beth was squirting all around his shaft and didn't want to get off. He grabbed her waist and lifted her up, her pussy trying to pull his cock back in deep even as it fell out of her. Reluctantly, she got on all fours facing the van. Titus rose up, kneeling. He grabbed her hips, pulling her left. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Just move," he grunted. She moved until she was parallel to the van with the lagoon behind them.
Beth felt him poking at her and soon he was fucking her hard from behind. Her orgasm seemed to pick right back up where it'd left off. While she was cumming, warm liquid poured into the crack of her ass. Titus tossed the bottle down. He'd used much more then he needed to. The tanning oil poured down her crack, parting around his thrusting cock. His hands started rubbing it into her ass cheeks. It felt weird, but at least her butt wasn't going to burn.
His phone chimed.
"Tell whoever it is to leave you alone," she muttered, annoyed by the constant texts.
"Sure." He grunted. "Ashley, I'll call you later. I'm busy fucking my white brother's hot wife."
Beth couldn't help herself and snorted a chuckle that turned to a moan as his cock pushed deep. She jerked forwards when his thumb pressed down on her anus. It circled around the rim of her tanning oil slick anus. "Push it in," she said, softly.
"What?" he snickered.
"Push your thumb in," she said, louder. "Yesss," she moaned as his wet thumb pushed into her anus. He'd done it the first time they fucked in this position and she liked it. She didn't know why, but having his thumb plugging her ass enhanced the pleasure she felt from his cock. It had her cumming almost immediately. Beth froze, head hanging down, breathing heavily from the intensity of the orgasm.
"Wish that dumb bitch would stop calling me," said Titus rudely.
"Be nice," she moaned. "She loves you."
"I'm done wit dat bitch. Dropped her when I turned out Helen for da niggas."
Beth wondered why he was talking so ghetto suddenly even as her face scrunched up with her hatred for the man. "She's pregnant you... you... NIGGER!"
Titus froze with his cock half in her. She couldn't see it, but his face was lit up in triumph. "Yo! I told use not ta calls me dat."
"Talk normal, asshole," she said, pushing back into his dick, but the hand on her cheek with the thumb in her ass held her still. "If you don't want to be called a nigger then quit acting like a nigger. You don't go around knocking up women and abandoning them," she moaned desperately trying to hump his cock.
"Dats exactly what I does." He laughed, and Beth felt he wasn't really mad at her. "What'd I tells you I'd do if you called me a nigger again?"
"You said you'd... don't you dare."
SPANK!
"OW!" Beth yelped, more startled than hurt.
SPANK!
"OH!" Beth groaned, feeling her ass cheek stinging.
SPANK!
"Mmmm, yessss. Please start fucking me again," she begged. He pulled her back onto his dick, then off, then back into it. "Thank you," she mewled. "One more," she pleaded, softly.
"One more what?"
"Spank me, nigger."
SPANK!
"CCUUMMIINNGG!" she screamed, her body shuddering. Her head fell to the blanket. She was breathing so hard, she could barely catch her breath. "Thank you. Thank you," she moaned. That had been her biggest orgasm yet. "Noooo," she pleaded, still gasping while Titus removed his cock.
Titus watched his cock spring up as it freed her pussy, oil and her arousal rained off it as it bobbed before him. He heard crunching in the sand behind him and glanced over his shoulder. The Cuban had his phone up, zooming in on Titus' cock. Titus cock head filled the screen as it came to rest on her anus. The head pushed down on her rosebud. It began to stretch, opening for the large intruder. He pulled back, pressed down again, then pulled back.
"Do it," hissed Beth.
"Do what?"
"Shove that black cock in my ass," she said, feeling ashamed. What have I become? She wondered. She felt him pressing down on her anus again. She'd cheated on her husband, had developed an exhibitionist streak, developed a taste for sucking cock, just had her biggest orgasm while being spanked, and now she wanted to be sodomized. Titus taking her ass would be her final submission to his dominant manliness. She winced as her ass opened around his cock head. "Just go easy," she begged. Ashley and Helen all seemed to love it after the initial penetration.
Beth almost bit her tongue to keep from crying out. Even then, she still whimpered, grateful for his liberal use of oil as he began working the end of his cock in and out of her. She wished she'd let David do it the other night, but his small penis would have done little to prepare her for the Titan. Her bowels seemed to take his probing easily enough, all the pain was concentrated in her anus, but that too was fading. Quicker than she would have thought, it began to feel good. She found herself pushing back into his thrusts. "Fuck me," she moaned. "Fuck my ass."
Beth's eyes were closed as she continued pushing back into Titus' probing cock. She inhaled deeply through her nose, the masculine sweaty stench of cock filled her nostrils partially ruined by the smell of cheap cologne. She imagined the cock brushing her lips. Her mouth opened as Titus pushed deep and the second cock pushed past her lips.
Beth opened her eyes in surprise, staring down the upwardly curved shaft of a large brown cock. Her eyes were blocked by the man's rather large brown belly. His cock looked to be about ten inches long, emerging out of his hairy mass of black pubes to curve up under his belly. A thrust from Titus pushed his entire cock head into her mouth. Beth's tongue automatically began to twirl around the end of the brown knob and before she knew what she was doing, she was sucking the unfamiliar brown cock.
The man sat back on his knees, thrusting his cock up past his belly. She sucked halfway down his shaft and when she brought her head back up to the tip, she looked up over his belly. Instead of a face, she found herself looking into the lens of his phone. What the fuck was up with all these men filming everything? His skin was the brown of a light-skinned black man, but the color of a Hispanic. His chest was hairy, and he had gold chains around his neck.
She lost sight of him again when Titus shoved his cock deep forcing the Latino's cock down her throat. Titus' cock flexed, flooding her bowels with sperm. He pulled her back up by her waist, pulling his cock swiftly out of her anus. Semen splattered on her back and in her hair. She saw a teaspoons' worth land on the Hispanic man's belly. She watched it slowly began to slide down the man's stomach while she continued sucking his cock.
The stranger didn't last as long as Titus and soon his cock began to swell. She pulled back just as the first blast filled her mouth. She gulped, letting it roll over her tongue. His cum was as rich and delicious as Titus' seed. His cock wasn't as big, but his swollen hairy brown testicles were huge and full. Her mouth filled with sperm several more times before he yanked his cock back, it bobbed up and down spraying sperm all over her face. She managed to close her eyes just in time. It quit cumming all over her and she slowly opened her eyes.
"Smile puta," said the man, slowly lowering the camera. The smirking face, with the curled-up lips looked familiar to her. Her eyes opened with the realization that this was the Cuban photographer they'd met on Miami beach. "I've got to fuck you," he grunted, pushing himself up. His brown cock was still hard, bobbing as he walked around her.
Beth rolled over on her back. She glanced at Titus to see if he was going to stop the man, but Titus just stood off to the side watching the Cuban as he kneeled on the blanket again. Beth saw the ugly man's brown cock approaching, her legs opening for him.
"Your cock is "muy grande", Esteban," said Titus, watching him line it up with Beth's pussy.
"Gracias mi amigo, but your cock... now that is a work of art. I pay you "mucho dinero" to make movies for me." He pushed his cock inside. Beth moaned, raising her hips into him as he began fucking her. She glanced at Titus again to see if he was jealous, but instead, his black cock was swelling and rising watching the ugly Cuban fuck her. Titus walked around to the side and was kneeling by her head when the Cuban said, "No! No. Other side. Facing the van."
Titus nodded, rose again and walked around to the lagoon, kneeling by her head again. His cock slid over her lips. She turned her head and started sucking him.
"A la mierda con mi gran puta Cubana," grunted Estaban, fucking her hard.
Beth's hips raised into each thrust of the man's big cock. It was hard sucking Titus with Esteban fucking her and Titus knew it. He just rested the head between her lips while jerking his shaft with his hand. She turned her head slightly, looking at the Cuban. His hair was slicked back with grease and his face was still scrunched up doing his Al Pacino "Scarface" impression. What a disgusting hideous man, she thought, just as his big cock got her off. Her entire body spasmed as she came, convulsing so hard, Titus' cock flew out of her mouth. The black man pushed his cock back down as Esteban continued his hard-continuous thrusting. He wasn't even trying to get her off. He was simply using her to get his own cock off.
Esteban thrust deep and held his cock still. His hot seed hosed her cervix with a steady stream. She came again, her pussy contracting around his spurting cock, milking his shaft for his seed. Even this nasty man's seed was considered worthy by her pussy. Her muscles clamped down over the shaft trying to hold him deep as he pulled his still cumming cock out. He'd shot most of his wad, but he still had enough strength left to leave strands of cum from her breasts to her bellybutton.
Titus leaned up and his hot seed filled her mouth. He pulled back, jerking his cock off, sending a second coating of sperm over the drying cum that Esteban had covered her with fifteen minutes ago.
Both men jerked every drop of juice out of their shafts before standing. Titus helped her to her feet and turned her towards the lagoon. "Get cleaned up," he grunted, smacking her on the ass. Esteban walked over to some sweat pants and pulled them on, remaining shirtless, his belly hanging low over the hem.
Beth washed in the lagoon as best she could, ducking her head into the water several times and wiping her face. Confused, she kept glancing at Esteban and Titan. The two men were talking animatedly. What was the creepy Cuban doing here? She walked back up to the blanket and retrieved her bikini. She dressed, starting with the panty.
"Tu puta es incredible!" said Esteban. "I've rarely seen her like. Good job with the street talk. Classy white women submitting to ghetto niggas always get more views. They bring in mas dinero." Esteban rubbed his two fingers together as he held up one hand.
"And mas dinero for me?" asked Titus, mimicking his finger motions.
Titus phone beeped. "What's going on?" asked Beth, glancing down at the phone lying on the blanket. Esteban's was also on the blanket. Titus' screen lit up with a text from Ashley. Call me, it read.
Poor girl thought Beth reaching down for the phone. She pressed the button and the phone opened right onto the messaging app. How many messages had the poor lovestruck thing sent... Call me was the only recent text from Ashley. The rest were all from... Esteban.
Pull her hair out of the way.
Fuck her on her back.
Tell her to be more vocal
Cum on her tits and face.
Have her wash up facing the van.
Have the puta ride you. Then doggy.
Double money if you fuck her ass.
"What the fuck!" she cried. Titus had been getting instructions from Esteban!
"Only half," said Esteban, holding up a wad of cash. "The rest when the puta signs the consent form."
"What the fuck!" she said again. Beth turned facing Titus. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"He's paying good money for a video of us fucking," said Titus with a shrug.
"I'm not a porn star!" Beth reached down, grabbing Esteban's phone.
"Settle down woman. I'll give you half." Titus watched her turn and toss his phone far out into the lagoon.
"Yo bitch! What the fuck?"
"Fuck you," she said. "And fuck you!" She tossed Esteban's into the center of the little lagoon. It sank with a splash.
"That's coming out of jur fee," said Esteban noting where his phone went in.
"I'm not one of the sluts in your porn videos," she said, softly, trying not to cry. Why did she feel so hurt? She knew exactly what kind of a man her brother-in-law was. "Take me home. Now!" She stormed past the two men, towards the van and Titus' motorcycle.
"Wait!" called Esteban. He handed her a business card. "I always need dancers."
The card was for a gentlemen's club called, Temptations. It was a high-class nudie bar in South Beach, Miami not far from her job. She'd driven past it many times and billboards advertising it littered I-95. Esteban Perez, proprietor. In college, Beth had participated in protests led by her teacher to shut down strip clubs in the Lauderdale region. One of those had been a Temptations. She crinkled up the card and tossed it at Mr. Esteban Perez's chest.
Esteban chuckled. "Look mi hermano, I got clubs and modeling agencies in Miami, New York, and Los Angeles. Stop in any one if you need some dinero. I give you bonus if ju bring me fresh talent."
"I plan on heading out to L.A," said Titus.
"I will be there after spring break. Lots of fresh talent come to Florida during spring break."
"I bet. Sorry about the phone."
"No problemo. It's waterproof. Yours?" Esteban watched Titus shake his head. "Too bad. Ju just tame yo puta and get her to sign the release form. Get her to work for me and I give ju bonus."
"Hurry up," yelled Beth from over by his motorcycle. She looked like she was about to push it over.
"I'd better go," said Titus. He held up his fist and Esteban bumped it. The black man turned and hurried over to his bike.
**********
Esteban watched them go. The moment the bike roared off, the van door flew open revealing three cameras on tripods, lens' aimed through the side windows at the blanket. A Hispanic man jumped out, panting and shaking his wet shirt. "Jodidamente caliente," he complained.
Two other men walked up out of the bushes on either side of the blanket. They were slinging video recorders over their shoulders. "That bolillo mujer come work for you, jefe?" one cameraman asked, hopefully.
"Te la follas bien, Jefe," said the other one.
"But not as good as that Mayate, huh Jefe?" said the panting man operating the cameras in the hot van.
The other cameramen stored their cameras in the van.
Esteban looked over at the sweaty man. "You caliente, Manuel? Go get my phone." He aimed his thumb at the lagoon. Manuel ran off and was soon wading in the water.
Esteban pulled one of the blanket's corners back. A black microphone was sticking up under the sand. He pulled it up, the buried wire rising out of the sand running to the van.
"We make good movie, jefe?" asked one of his men.
"We make good movie," Esteban answered. We'll make really good movies once she's working for me, he thought.
**********
Beth was crying as she clung to the black man's broad back. She didn't know why she felt so betrayed. He didn't have the morals of a normal man. She did know that she wanted him gone and out of her life as soon as possible.
Beth wanted nothing to do with Titus Cetewayo anymore.
|
Chapter II – The Gossip
Work was piling up over at Queen Consolidated. Oliver was almost wishing for a crime so he could drop everything and hood up. He'd been pulling late nights with Felicity actually working at the office, going over a year's worth of projection reports and mind numbing pie charts. Even Isabel had to admit now, Felicity's qualifications were plenty regardless of her skirt collection.
So what if her skirts are short? She has nice legs…
It was only when Felicity popped in to announce she was off to lunch that Oliver realized he'd been thinking about her legs. Maybe she should start wearing longer skirts, it was obviously distracting. He asked her to wait for him. Oliver wanted to double check the profit percentage for QC's science division before the meeting with Isabel later on that day.
"You know, this lunch hour is supposed to be my free time," Felicity pointed. "Not that I mind spending it on work, of course," she rushed when she saw he was about to play the boss card on her.
Once on the elevator, Felicity pulled out her tablet and started reciting the figures back to Oliver for the hundredth time. He stopped her after the third one, leaning over her shoulder to glance at the screen.
"Are you sure about that last one?"
"Oliver, if there's one thing I know how to do is read numbers off a screen. It's not that hard." When she turned to glare at him, she wasn't expecting his face to be that close.
Felicity stared into the blue immensity of his eyes for what felt like hours until the elevator doors opened somewhere among the lower floors and two women in matching navy blue uniforms got in. Oliver acknowledged them casually when they gave him the usual 'Good morning, Mr. Queen' and then went back to checking the numbers on Felicity's screen.
She resumed her recount of the numbers on her tablet but there was something different about her voice now, a slight tremor. Oliver noticed she was shifting uncomfortably on her feet too, twitching her face away from him as if she was trying to put more distance between them.
Was he making her uncomfortable? They usually worked a lot closer than that at the foundry and she never seemed to mind. Sure, she didn't like it when he hovered but still… Felicity would never cower away from him like that; if anything she'd throw him a laser stare over her glasses and tell him to go sharpen his arrows or something.
Someone giggled behind them and Oliver turned to look. The two women looked quickly away coughing dramatically to hide their laughter. Oliver was about to dismiss the scene when he glanced back at Felicity. One pink lip trapped tightly between her teeth and now she was staring straight down at the elevator floor. The pieces clicked... They were talking about her.
It wasn't him making Felicity uncomfortable, at least not directly. The rumors must have got worst after a week of overtime and getting picked up by his private limo all the time. She wasn't used to being in the midst of a gossip hurricane and he was now realizing what a toll it must be taking on her. Why hadn't she said anything to him? Of course, she wouldn't. Felicity would be silly enough to think she brought this upon herself; she might even go as far as to think she deserved it. When one of the women started whispering again, Oliver made a decision. Maybe it was time to put his working knowledge of the gossiping world to good use.
"Felicity, my mother says she wants you to have dinner with us at the mansion again tonight."
The whispering was replaced by complete and utter silence, broken only by the sound of the elevator and the voice of a very startled Felicity.
"I'm sorry, what?" It was all Oliver could do not to laugh at the tiny o her lips were making.
"Yes, they granted her parole yesterday until the trial. I thought I'd told you that," Oliver frowned a little, searching for something in his memory.
Why… why is he acting like this is a normal conversation? Felicity couldn't answer even if she tried, which was a good thing because apparently Oliver was running a show of his own there.
"Anyway, I told her we were busy with the shareholders but she said she didn't want to hear it and made me promise we'd both be at dinner tonight. She's throwing a whole family thing with Roy and Thea, too. You're not going to make me into the kind of son who lies to his mother, are you?"
Oliver gave her this puppy-eyed smile that she would have never thought could go on that face. No wonder he had a reputation for a playboy. Stop doing that, you look too gorgeous doing that! What came next not even a year of anticipation could prepare her for. Somehow one of Oliver's hands was on the low of her back and he was so close to her ear the warmth of his breath was making the hairs on her neck stand. Felicity swallowed hard in an effort to keep her sanity. And then he spoke…
"It'll be fun, I promise."
Ooh god…! How is one supposed to stand after that? Felicity was pretty sure her brain flat-lined. She made what could be taken as a shaky nod and something that sounded a little like 'suure'. Oliver smiled a bit. She knew because his stubble grazed the rim of her ear when he did.
"Good," he sentenced. "Remind me to give her a call and let her know." Just like that, as if there weren't a million things wrong with that sentence.
Not only had Felicity never set foot in the Queen mansion, she certainly wasn't expecting an invitation from Moira Queen herself any time soon, especially not to a 'whole family thing with Roy and Thea, too.' The girl was mortified, not to say completely lost, and the fact that Oliver's hand still lingered on her back was not helping.
At least he was facing the elevator doors now instead of breathing down her neck like that. What was he thinking? She swore she could hear Becky and Linda back there texting the entire financial department what an interesting elevator ride 'Easy Felicity' and 'the Prodigal Son' had when they forgot someone was watching. They would add their own personal twist to it, of course. By now that hand on her back must have transformed into hot, passionate sex against the side mirrors. She'd be surprised if she didn't come out of that elevator pregnant with twins and blackmailing Oliver into marrying her to take over his company.
Finally, after what had to be the longest elevator ride in the history of buildings, they made it to ground floor. As soon as the doors opened Felicity tried to make a run for it but Oliver's deceptively strong hand crept around her waist locking her in place.
Please, no more! If this was a dream Felicity wanted to wake up because it was slowly turning into a nightmare. Or at least have someone tell her it was a dream so she could enjoy being manhandled by Oliver in peace.
"I think we should get Italian this time. What do you think? That little place from the other day was nice."
Felicity ventured a look at his face and yes, he was looking at her, the perfect image of a man completely at ease with himself and the situation. Oliver Queen: CEO, leather-wearing vigilante and professional liar, Felicity thought incredulously. He'd asked a question. She should probably answer something.
"Italian. Sounds good." Sorry, Oliver, improvisation is not my thing, you know that.
He seemed satisfied.
"Italian it is, then. Here, let me help you with that."
In what seemed like just one move Oliver had Felicity's tablet and the binder she was carrying in one hand along with his briefcase while his other hand came to zip with Felicity's, wrapping his manly, big fingers around her much more delicate ones. She had to look down at her hand to make sure this was actually happening. The image was certainly there, Oliver's hand in hers, but it just didn't quite click with reality. She gave it a testing squeeze just to make sure. Yup, that's Oliver's hand alright.
Felicity let herself be practically dragged out of the elevator by him. She was like a zombie walking alongside Oliver until he stopped to greet a group of men who were apparently competing for Boring Suit of the Year.
"Arthur! Glad I ran into you. Listen, I need you to stop by my office later. Those interns you sent me? They managed to break down half the printers on the top floor in one morning. And one of them keeps harassing the secretaries. I'd say we need to hire a new one, don't you?"
Felicity's heart sunk. That was Arthur Phillip, a prematurely bald man in his mid forties and head of Human Resources. He was also the one who interviewed Felicity for the job in the IT department when she first came to Queen Consolidated. She felt like dying right then and there.
Oliver must have guessed she'd try to flee the scene because his hand closed more tightly around her own.
"No problem, Mr. Queen," the man said. "I'll set up a list and meet you at your office around… three?"
"Excellent," Oliver returned with a smile. The men said their goodbyes and all the while Felicity could feel everyone's eyes on her, on them.
They made their way - painfully slow - to the front door where Diggle was already waiting by the car. He and Oliver shared a talent for hiding their emotions.
"Do I even want to know?" he said pulling the door out for them.
"Not now," Oliver warned him. All Felicity could do was stare down at the ground.
"Felicity, you can let go of me now."
"Huh? Oh… right." She slipped her fingers out of his grasp and got in the car, sliding over mechanically so Oliver could follow after her.
The three of them rode in silence until Felicity found a way to put words into sentences again.
"Oliver, what was that?"
"Yes, Oliver, what was that?" Diggled echoed looking at his buddy through the rearview mirror with a coy smirk.
"That was damage control," he said. "You were right, Felicity. People were spreading rumors and I should've done something about it."
"But I didn't mean that. Oliver, you just gave the entire company enough material to go on for a month!"
"Exactly, and now that they got what they wanted, they'll move on and leave you alone." Oliver tried to ignore Diggle's knowing glance on the mirror. He'd rather pretend not to know what his friend was still smiling about. "Look, I know a thing or two about the way gossip works. People attack you with what they think will embarrass you. Once you show them you have nothing to hide, they get bored and find something else to talk about."
"But we do have a lot to hide. Like, oh I don't know, a basement full of pointy green arrows and one high profile vigilante who poses as CEO for his family's company in his spare time?" Felicity contended.
"Yes, but they don't know that, so we'll give them one false secret big enough to distract them from the real one. This was actually your idea, Felicity."
"My- How is any of this my idea?!"
"You told Laurel you were with me, it was brilliant. Everyone already thinks it's true so they won't ask questions and now we'll have a perfect excuse to disappear as needed. Perhaps we should have thought of this sooner."
Felicity wasn't about to buy into that cheap psychology trick of making her believe she was the one to come up with this ludicrous plan.
"This is not what I had in mind, Oliver."
It was Diggle who voiced Felicity's silent question. "Isn't this going to make it harder for Felicity at the office?" He was serious now, his reflection showing a frown on his forehead. Felicity already felt like an outcast at QC as it was and he knew it.
"It is one thing to be the boss' hidden affair; it is a whole other story to be Oliver Queen's girlfriend," Oliver countered. He found Felicity's eyes to make sure she was paying attention. "I may have been known for playing around with more than my fair share of women in the past, but everyone knows I never publicly dated anyone other than Laurel. They'll think I'm that serious about you and no one wants to mess with the boss' girl. At least not to her face anymore," he said with a wink.
Felicity wanted to be as convinced as he was but she just...
Oliver's hand made its way to Felicity's knee.
"They won't bother you, Felicity, I promise."
As always, Felicity's worries seemed to settle down obediently under Oliver's touch. He was becoming her own personal Valium and she just knew addictions never end well. Felicity dipped her head back on the car seat and stared out the window.
Oliver's hand rested on her knee a couple more seconds before he pulled away while Felicity made a silent prayer... Please, please, please don't let me fall in love with Oliver Queen. |
When they were eating the topic came up about instant noodles. Japan's instant noodles vs America's instant noodles.
“You know what’s not fair? Japan has the good shit when it comes to instant ramen and we’re stuck with noodles and vegetables. Blegh” Luffy said
“Those also have noodles and vegetables” Law said and Luffy looked at him pouting, “Ok, I agree. Japan have a better selection of vegetables anyways, why is it carrots, peas or corn always? Why not some Kimichi or something more Asian to make it taste Asian, but they are good none the less, right?”
Luffy nodded, “Especially during an anime convention”
“Definitely.” Law said as they continued eating. “Anyways, after we eat, I need to show you what I got in the Artist Alley. You’d love it. It’s so funny” Law said and Luffy smiled, happy Law was so into having fun instead of worrying about being “normal”. There were some times he panicked about not being accepted, but he helped him through those times and now he rarely gets like that.
“I can’t wait to see it!” Luffy said as they finished their dinner and spent a while looking at all their prints. Laughing at some of the funnier ones, in awe with the more cool ones, and so on. The one Law showed Luffy was this one from Haikyuu!!
“What’s so funny about this?” Luffy asked confused seeing the image of the main team of Kurasuno
“Look at Hinata” Law said and Luffy saw Hinata, the orange haired character, stick his put up in the air
“I do see it’s funny, but I don’t know why you think it’s funny, it's not something I thought you'd find funny” Luffy said confused
“True, however, the creator said Hinata was showing off his ‘assets’, get it? Ass-sets” Law said grinning and Luffy ‘pfft’
“Now that makes sense” he said grinning and all of them looked at their prints overall
“Will there be more stands tomorrow in the artist alley?” Law asked looking back at Luffy
“Sometimes. Last year it didn’t really, but it did the last year and the time after that, so hopefully we get more tomorrow” Luffy said and stretched as Law put up their prints, “Do you want to plan our schedule for tomorrow?”
“Sure” Law said reaching into his backpack and got the schedule and book about the panels and their schedule. Both looked through the schedule for Saturday and Luffy looked at the guest lists for autographs
“Wow, wait, look Traffy! The voice actor for Levi from Attack on Titan is here!” Luffy exclaimed happily
“Wait, really?” Law asked looking at the part of the schedule Luffy looked at and saw that the voice actor was there. Law and Luffy both were into Attack on Titan watching every episode available within the last month. It’s all they did. They would watch an episode before Law needed to get ready for work. That and binged on reading it. They watched more and the second Law got home, etc.
“I can't believe he's here of all voice actors! Do you want to meet him and get his autograph?” Luffy asked
“Yes!” Law said grinning happily. Finally he can get something like this without being nagged at about how childish it is. Kid’s not holding him down ever again. “But we don’t have anything for him to sign”
“True, there are rules against fan art being signed... so, how about we get up early and go to the dealer’s room to see if there is a Levi figure you can get for the autograph?”
“That would be great” Law said
“Ok, so the autograph signing is between 12-1pm. We have to be there at least an hour beforehand to ensure a ticket each and a spot. It’s tricky to get in with how many people there are some times”
“Sounds like what I would think it would be. When does the dealer's room open?”
“10am. So maybe no panels in the morning” Luffy said
“Ok, what about artist alley?”
“They open at 9am”
“Hit there before the dealer’s room?” Law asked and Luffy smiled
“Sure! Let’s check the schedule for panels to do after we get the autograph!” Luffy said wanting to make Law’s first anime convention the best he will ever have
“Ooh, let’s do this one” Law said showing Luffy the panel and Luffy laughed
“That sounds like it would be fun!”
After they scheduled their day for tomorrow to make the most out of it, they set the alarm to 7am. Luffy put their prints on the table where they would be safe. They took turns showering and putting their costumes on chairs. When they looked at the bed and each other they noticed something similar about their sleepwear. A normal t-shirt and boxers. They blushed looking to the bed and to each other
“...”
“Well… we should get to bed” Luffy said obviously expressing both of their uncertainties. This was the first time they would sleep together since the drunken night and they don’t even remember that one.
“Yeah, we got an early day tomorrow” Law said and both got into bed
“Goodnight Traffy”
“Goodnight.” Law said. Luffy, despite having the same anxiety as Law, fell asleep fast. Law was struggling hard. This was the first time, minus the time he quite literally didn’t remember from being drunk, in a long time that he had someone, let alone this cute, sleep in the same bed as him… the man he was in love with no less. His heart was pounding hard. The thought still scared him. What will happen at the end of the rest of their potential soulmate registry? He shook his head of the thought knowing whatever will happen, Luffy will be in his life someway or another. Even if it was just mere friendship that Luffy could offer, it would be more than enough for him. All despite him hoping for more. He turned to Luffy and smiled at his adorable sleeping face and leaned over and kissed him on the head.
“Goodnight Luffy, I hope you have sweet dreams” he said before being able to fall asleep himself. Both looking forward to the next day meeting the voice actor and spending another great day with each other.
TBC
|
“Yay!”
They walked out into the foyer and a guard came to announce, “The horses are ready.”
Will swallowed. “I hope I am.”
Hannibal held his hand tighter. “I will protect you from the equine terrors.”
Will pushed him. “Shut up.”
They were handed their outer clothes and Will felt what it was like to be truly warm when they got outside, the jacket he now wore was the best he’d ever owned. The stable was not far from the castle, though Hannibal’s eyes roamed around the entire walk there.
“Looking for snipers?” Will joked.
“Yes.”
Will froze. “What?”
“I told you that I was concerned for our safety, I am always conscious of the world around me.”
Will grabbed his arm. “In case, what? You have to jump in front of us?”
Hannibal looked at him and said softly, “Yes.”
Will stopped him at the stable entrance and Will watched him put Mischa down so she could run towards the horses.
“You are NOT doing that. You hear me?” he hissed.
“The guards will not allow it, but if I need to…”
Will grabbed his arm and Hannibal refused to look at him. “If that happens, you let me get shot and move on.”
Hannibal glared at him. “Never. You hear me?”
“You’d leave Mischa alone?”
Hannibal stared at his sister. “No. I would not do that to her.”
“Then shut up and be the King in training because making dumb choices because of love is what they expect of you. You’re not going to be that reckless.”
Hannibal sighed, looking at Will and touching his face. “I just gained you, Tobulas, I cannot even fathom living a life without you again.”
Will kissed him, throwing his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders and digging his nails into his back. When they parted both men heard Mischa say, exasperated, “You’re kissing again? I want to ride Buttercup!”
Will laughed, pulling back as he smiled. “You never will have to live without us. I won’t let that happen. Not again.”
Hannibal kissed his cheek. “I will hold you to that promise.”
“Please do.”
They followed the sounds of Mischa’s excited chatter as they headed into the stable, finding her wearing her riding gear and sitting atop a small white pony. Will smiled and asked, “This is your pony, Baby?”
She nodded, petting it. “Her name is Gana, my mommy and daddy got her for me,” she said quietly, still running her small hands over the horse.
Will reached out to pet the horse. “She’s very beautiful.”
Mischa grinned. “That’s why I named her pretty, cuz she was so pretty.”
Will looked at Hannibal who explained, “Gana means pretty in Lithuanian. My parents bought her for Mischa after she finished her riding training, she’s…Mischa is very attached to her.”
Will patted the horse once more and walked over to another stall. The horse was black as night and large, huffing and stomping as Will tried to touch it.
“This is yours?” he asked with a frown.
Hannibal walked over to the horse and touched him, whispering something close to its ear and nearly instantly it calmed down. “His name is Zudikas, as he was going to be sent out for slaughter before I asked for him after learning he killed his last owner,” he pet the horse and it neighed calmly, actually pressing its nose into Hannibal’s face.
He smiled. “We are very close, Zudikas and I. Riding him was very therapeutic for me after…my parents’ deaths, he saved me.”
Will reached out to touch his arm and Hannibal turned, leaning in to kiss Will softly.
“I’m glad you had this. I’d like to learn,” Will said with a smile.
Hannibal took his hand and went to the next stall, where he walked inside and touched a brown mare’s side. The horse was the calmest of the three, turning to huff into Hannibal’s hair.
“This is Meile, she was my mother’s horse.”
Will’s eyes widened. “I…I can’t ride this. What if…you’re sure?”
Hannibal nodded. “She is very calm, my mother was riding regularly up until her death so she knows not to be particularly jarring when she goes for a run,” he tugged at the saddle and held an arm up for Will, “If I may?”
Will swallowed, nodding once and letting Hannibal heft him up and over, nearly falling on the other side but grabbing the horse’s neck before he could. Hannibal laughed, even as Will turned and glared. “I could’ve fallen!”
Hannibal grabbed his leg, securing it to the saddle, “I would not have allowed you to fall, Tobulas, you know that, “ he moved around to Will’s other side and secured the other, “Now you may sit up.”
Will sat up slowly and Hannibal walked over to the stall door, opening it before he whistled and said, “Meile, Go!”
The horse took off fast, Will grabbing onto the reigns but not falling and the guards that had been following them ran to open the stable doors. Will winced as the cold air hit his face and saw Hannibal’s horse coming up on his right while Mischa came at his left. He glared at his husband once more, “I could’ve fallen!”
“Will, Meile is nice! She don’t let people fall,” Mischa said, frowning when Will looked at her, “She’s a good girl, right Meile?”
The horse turned at her name and licked at Mischa’s offered hand, eating something out of it.
“She loves sugar cubes,” Hannibal explained, making Will turn his way, “Mother used to keep them in her pockets and Meile still looks for them whenever she’s riding with someone.”
He looked pained just remembering and Will reached out to touch his leg.
“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t…”
“No! Will Meile likes you!”Mischa said, riding ahead, “Come on!”
They started to move again, Hannibal reaching over to pat Will’s horse as the mare slowly began moving. It was odd being up here. Will wasn’t sure he was made for riding. The cold air made the ride a bit uncomfortable as did the movements themselves. Though Will assumed the more you did it the more you enjoyed it.
His family was far in his distance, Will struggling to keep up and grateful the horse wasn’t within earshot of Hannibal’s commands to move. He wasn’t exactly confident that he wouldn’t fall.
When Mischa’s white horse came back, Will was blushing at the ease she rode with and did not want a seven year old’s help. “Baby, I’m fine.”
She frowned. “Meile is bored, she wants to run!”
Will looked up sternly. “Mischa, please return to Hannibal.”
She stuck out her bottom lip and said, “Meile, go!”
The horse moved, and Will cursed, grabbing its neck. When Hannibal came rushing back he stopped the mare in her place.
“Thank you,” Will said breathlessly.
Hannibal came to ride alongside him, looking back at Mischa and then at Will.
“She told the horse to move faster?”
Will nodded. “Apparently I bore horses more than I do people.”
Hannibal bit his lip to keep from laughing and Will could see the humorous glint in his eye. “Would you like to ride with me, Will? I promise to hold on tight.”
Will looked at him with a sigh, nodding desperately. “Please.”
Hannibal helped Will move over onto his horse, and lifted him with such ease Will couldn’t help but be turned on especially when he was seated firmly in front of Hannibal with strong arms around his waist.
“Better?”
Will leaned back against him, nodding. “I’m sorry, I just…I don’t think riding is my thing.”
Hannibal kissed his cheek. “It is not for everyone, though I guarantee you will appreciate riding more after our ride together.”
Will smiled, and was just about to kiss him when Mischa’s voice cut through.
“I’m sorry.”
Hannibal looked behind them, the guards who had been riding behind received a nod to put Meile back into her stall, before looking at Mischa. “Will was frightened of the horse, darling, not trying to stall.”
Will blushed, not saying a word as Mischa said, “Meile was bored, Hanni, I just…”
The horse in question was led back to her stall and they began riding together then, Will enjoying the activity more now that he felt safer. Zudikas, while he had seemed intimidating earlier, was actually quite tame when he was in Hannibal’s care and Will found himself petting the horse more than once as they rode.
They rode out and Will was not sure of their destination, till he saw gravestones and felt a chill he hadn’t expected. He took one of Hannibal’s hands as they slowed, staring down at two identical stones that lay in a bed of frozen flowers.
“Mama, Papa, this is William Lecter the first. He is my husband, as we are newly married,” Hannibal said softly, hugging Will tightly as he squeezed their hands.
“Will is so nice, mama! And he loves us and dogs and he makes me laugh! He’s the best!” Mischa said, pulling her winter hat down as she grinned at him.
Will swallowed, tears on his cheeks as he said, “Hello, I…I’m very proud to be a part of your family Mr. and Mrs. Lecter. I…I promise to take good care of them both and never dishonor your crown.”
Hannibal kissed his cheek and Will pressed his face into his chest, “And I am so sorry that you won’t be able to see what a wonderful King your son will be. I know you will be very proud of him. I love both of your children so very much.”
Mischa took his other hand and Will turned to her, letting go of Hannibal to wipe the tears on her face. “I’m very happy to meet you both.”
Mischa hugged him, pressing her face into Will’s side. “I love you Will.”
He kissed the hat on her head. “I love you too, Bsby,” he leaned back into Hannibal’s chest, “Both of you.”
The ride back was solemn, Mischa slowing her trot to never leave their side and the guards came closer to them now that their private time was over. When they entered the stable and dismounted, Will threw himself into Hannibal’s arms his hold tight as he cried, feeling Mischa at his back.
“Thank you for taking me there,” he whispered, kissing Hannibal’s cheek, “It was…I didn’t expect it but thank you.”
Hannibal hugged him tightly. “I believed it was important that you met my parents, as is tradition.”
Will sighed, letting him go after another hug and turning to look at Mischa. He held out his arms and she let herself be picked up, “Are you okay, sweetie?”
She sniffled, “Mommy and Daddy woulda loved you, Will. Like we do.”
Will hugged her tightly as they walked inside, the three of them walking into the sitting room settling on the couch and basking in the warmth of each other while Hannibal nodded once to the guards.
Will looked at him and he said, “I believe the cook is going to begin preparing lunch.”
Will nodded and held Mischa tightly, “She probably won’t stay awake that much longer.”
“She has had an emotionally draining morning, we have not visited our parents’ graves since the Spring as I have been quite busy and she will not go alone.”
Will pet Mischa’s hair, smiling when he saw she was sleeping. “I’m glad she’s getting some sleep.”
“Her nightmares have ceased, it is much easier for her to sleep knowing she’s not alone.”
Will lay against him and smiled. “Me too. I’ve never been the best sleeper by myself.”
Hannibal lifted his chin and they kissed. “You will your talk of sleeping with other people,” he whispered, “I do not like the image.”
Will smiled. “There haven’t been many takers, so it’s a very short list.”Hannibal glared. “Even so.”
Will sighed, laying back against him. “I’m gonna rest my eyes for a bit. Wake me when lunch is done.”
Hannibal petted his head, kissing Will’s forehead. “As you wish, Tobulas.”
Will sighed as he fell asleep not a moment later.
Will woke to Mischa’s excited chatter.
“You did? Oh wow! He’s gonna be so happy! Can I tell him? Can I?”
“Mischa, shush. Will is sleeping, darling. You’ll…”
Will groaned, stretching out his arms and opening his eyes sleepily. “Wake me up? Too late. And why am I gonna be so happy?”
Hannibal leaned down and kissed him from where he lay in his prince’s lap, sighing into the touch of lips and pulling on his hair lightly to keep him from letting go. They smiled as they parted.
“You’ll just have to wait and see, Tobulas. That would spoil the surprise.”
Will grinned, kissing him again and groaning when Mischa said, sounding exasperated, “You’re kissing again? I’m hungry Hanni! It’s lunchtime!”
Hannibal pulled away, caressing Will’s cheek as he sighed, “She’ll be old enough to know better sooner rather than later.”
Will laughed, sitting up and standing. He held out his hand and Hannibal took it, the two of them following Mischa out to the dining room where the servants were already setting out lunch. Will sat at Hannibal’s right while Mischa sat by Will.
“Dontcha get tired of kissing?” she asked, grabbing some of noodles with her fork and chewing.
Will shared a look with Hannibal who just smiled back. “I don’t think we’ll ever get tired of it,” he confessed.
He felt Hannibal’s foot on his own, moving up his pantleg. Will did the same, making Hannibal lick his lips.
“No, darling, I don’t think Will and I will grow tired of each other any time soon.”
Mischa looked confused.
“Cuz you’re in love?”
Will looked at her and nodded, patting her head. “Yeah, baby. Cuz we’re in love. I don’t think I can grow tired of you either, Mischa.”
She smiled, hugging Will’s shoulder. “I love you, Will.”
He kissed her head. “Love you too, baby girl. Now eat your noodles before they get cold.”
They ate lunch in silence, Will and Hannibal sharing looks over a their shared meal and when they were done Mischa said excitedly, “I can’t wait till Will’s present gets here!”
Hannibal narrowed his eyes at her. “Mischa…”
She bit her lip. “I won’t tell. I won’t.”
Will smiled. “I’m sure you won’t. I won’t ask.”
They headed for the parlor when Hannibal touched Will’s shoulder and said to Mischa.
“Mazasis, Will and I are going to go somewhere special for a few moments. Stay with Terry and Shalvi, please,” he nodded to the two guards with Mischa and ignored Mischa’s frown as they took to the stairs again.
Will thought they were going to their bedroom but they continued on down the hall, heading towards a section of the castle that Will had never been in so far. Walking together with guards at their back he started to realize just how big Lecter Castle was. The wing where they slept with Mischa seemed to be just one of several.
“We reside in the South wing, the East and West are for guests and the North has been…empty for some time. My parents room is there, which is what I wanted to show you.”
Will swallowed. “I…why?”
Hannibal said nothing, just continuing on and when they got to a door at the end of the long hall he stopped. “Please stay out here, please,” he said to the guards, taking out a key from his pocket and heading inside.
The room was spotless, as had been all the spots they walked through to get there. He saw a large canopy bed and a bigger room than their own. The dressers were ornate and just as beautiful than everything else there.
He squeezed Hannibal’s hand. “How long since you’ve been in here?”
Hannibal didn’t look at him. “The night my parents died. I held Mischa and we laid in their bed.”
Will took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Why are we here, Hannibal?”
He looked at Will and said, “I want this to be our new bedroom. I will be crowned King in the coming months, these are the King’s quarters and we…”
Will put his hand on Hannibal’s cheek.
“We don’t have to, you know that right? Just because your parents slept here doesn’t mean we have to. Mischa loves her room, I wouldn’t want to be that far away from her no matter how many guards she has. And loud sex is amazing, but I don’t want to force you into something that you…”
Hannibal pulled him in close for a kiss, trapping the rest of Will’s words and letting out his nerves in his husband’s arms. He pressed his face into Will’s neck and whispered, “I want you to have everything you deserve, Tobulas, every single thing.”
Will hugged him back. “I already do.”
Hannibal lifted his head up and kissed Will softly. “As strange as it would be to make love in my parents’ bed this could be for those encounters that we needed to be extremely enthusiastic for.”
Will laughed. “Isn’t that all of them? Even now I can think of nothing more than letting you drag screams out of me.”
Hannibal growled, tightening his hold as he threw Will to the bed, pressing himself atop him and staring down at his husband. “You are my heart, Will. You and Mischa both, I…”
Will kissed him hard, biting at his lip and sighing as he pulled back. “God, I can’t believe I’m gonna ask this but would it be weird if I sucked you off in your parents’ bed?”
Hannibal rolled them over, Will on top of him, and said, “I was conceived in this bed, so this can’t be the first time there has been an exchange of bodily fluid in it.”
Will laughed, “I can’t believe you would even say something like that! I can’t even…”
Hannibal pulled him in for multiple kisses, in between panting, “Do not lie and say you are any less eager, Will, I can feel your eagerness against me.”
Will laughed, biting at his lip, “Shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so irresistible.”
Hannibal grinned. “You are correct, the fault is all mine.”
Will began moving down his body, pulling at Hannibal’s belt.
“You ever take anyone in here secretly before? Were you the naughty prince sneaking maids in your parents bed for some secret rendezvous?”
Hannibal shook his head, shivering when Will got his belt open and pulled his pants down to his hips, taking out his cock. “I never had the pleasure, my…the guards were…oh…they were relentless.”
Will began licking at him, making Hannibal play with his curls and not pull though Will could tell that he wanted to. He held back more than once from pulling, finally Will taking his hand and closing his fingers around a piece of his own hair.
“You can pull all you want.”
Hannibal growled, pulling hard and Will took the tip of Hannibal’s cock into his mouth.
“Oh, Will…I….”
Will began licking and sucking, Hannibal’s hand in his hair tightening as he moved. When he came over Will’s tongue he shouted, Will moaning in return as he sucked as much down as he could. He pulled back, licking and tasting as much as possible before he looked up, wiping his chin.
He smiled. “I could do that all day long, your highness.”
Hannibal frowned. “I do not like you calling me that. Hannibal, my name is Hannibal. Or…”
Will kissed his inner thigh and whispered, “My Prince.”
Hannibal sighed, petting Will’s head. “I will always be your Prince, my perfect one.”
Will laid his head on his thigh for a moment before moving up to stare down into Hannibal’s eyes.
“I’ll always be your perfect one.”
Hannibal kissed him and moved his hand down Will’s stomach and began undoing his pants. “I ache for you, Tobulas, my mouth waters just thinking of your taste.”
Will kissed him again, panting, “Please, I…”
Hannibal flipped them softly, nearly tore at his clothes to get them open, not bothering to wait and taking Will down to the hilt. Will lifted himself up to his mouth, groaning loudly, “Fuck, Hannibal, god, don’t stop, please.”
Hannibal did not relent in his pursuit of Will’s pleasure, sucking and jerking his husband in hand and growling in triumph at the taste of Will in his mouth. He suckled as Will’s tremors subsided, petting his head softly as he praised, “You’re so good at that, fuck, I don’t even want to imagine the reasons why.”
Hannibal looked up at him through his eyelashes and licked a strip up his cock making Will tremble still very sensitive.
“Tease.”
Hannibal pulled his mouth away, licking at Will still as he said, “Always.” |
His chest was burning.
The water was pushing against him, desperately biting his arms and legs, resisting with all it had. A blue blur that had captured Lance for too long, that had left his lungs begging for oxygen. The surface was calling to him, the warm orange light that the sunset cast over the water catching his eye.
But he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop, really.
Because his nerves were still on fire, his mind was still filled with something he didn’t want to voice, his belly churning.
Because the water wasn’t helping.
Maybe that was what angered Lance the most, that his personal haven refused to make him feel like he belonged here, like his body wasn’t made to move through the water. It was frustrating, that he could swim with everything he had, like he had done many times before, but that the water engulfing him, working against him wasn’t enough to get rid of everything that was boiling inside of him.
Something tugged painfully inside of his chest, then, and Lance came out to the surface, muscles tense as his back curved. He opened his mouth to breathe sharply, his chest heaving, eyes unfocused. He let his body float, his lungs accepting the air eagerly, body shivering with their desperate need.
In. Out. In. Out…
Lance didn’t know if the pressure inside of his chest was a sob or a scream, but he held it in, decided to leave it there until it cracked his ribs. Until the drops that were wandering through his uncovered stomach fell over its edges, back to the water. Until the drops that had decided to stay on his eyelashes slipped over his cheekbones.
Back and back and back.
Back to that morning, when his body had woken up to a silent phone, after a sharp flash of a nightmare. It had been bitter and uncomfortable, like waking up in the middle of the night cold because you kicked the sheets in your sleep. The perfect analogy, really— he had kicked Keith away, and he had taken his warmth with him, leaving to Lance to swallow the panic in his throat.
He had tried to soothe it away, his family doing wonders to keep him distracted, but, as the evening closed in, as the sunset casted reddened lights over their living room, he became weak. He had opened Keith’s chat, had stared at the ‘read’ that hovered underneath his own message, fingers trembling as his chest constricted.
It hurt, to see the tell-tale signs of Keith drawing away from him.
It hurt too much.
(18:03) I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.
He had texted it as fast as he could, before bolting out of the living room, a quick explanation for his mother’s sake leaving his lips and he was closing the entrance door behind him, breathing in the evening air and letting something ugly bloom in the spaces between his ribs.
And now, floating on the water, hand coming up to cover his eyes against the scary blur that the world had turned into, he could feel them cracking.
One by one, crack by crack.
Has he had enough of me?
His hands dug deeper into his eyes, bright coloured dots filling his vision as his chest tightened over his ribs. His fingers twitched, but Lance stilled them, almost as if he could stop the pressure in his belly that begged him to check his phone. He had fucked up, hadn’t he?
Learn to believe it, Hunk had said but, dear god, how? How was he supposed to do that?
How could he believe that someone could ever love him just as ardently as he did?
How—
“You need to work on your form.”
The sentence echoed through the room, magnified by the silent cover that the water allowed. Lance knew that voice, had ingrained itself into his mind after whispering a hidden desire into his heart, filling it up.
He stood on the pool’s floor, toes slipping before catching himself, and turned his head to watch Tamrat stand over the edge of Lance’s watered world, hands inside his pocket and a slight tilt of his head. He seemed to shine there, bathed by the golden light, waiting for Lance to watch up to him.
His eyes were clearer than the ocean, and his hands were empty, no bottles or bitter laughter in sight.
A shame, really.
“What are you doing here?” Lance asked, voice raw, throat burning from all that he was keeping inside.
He could have hid from Tamrat, could have swallowed the agonic collision that was shattering his chest, but he was tired. Tired of hurting in silence, tired of letting his own mind eat him away. He was frustrated, worried, and so, so scared.
He wanted the world to feel it.
“The same as you,” Tamrat answered with a little smile, bitterness coating his lips.
He sat down on the edge of the pool, letting his legs into the water and closing his eyes as he did so. The trousers began to soak, clinging against his skin desperately, but Tamrat didn’t seem to care. A sigh escaped his lips as he basked in the coldness, legs moving slightly, curling in on himself.
And Lance understood him. Understood that urgent tug of wanting in, to be surrounded by a thing you adored.
Understood the pain of not being able to do it.
He studied Tamrat’s face, from the frown of his lips to his tensed shoulders. His dreadlocks flowed down his back and Lance watched, entranced, the way the light of the sunset outlined him, the way it made him shine. He opened his eyes and Lance curled in on himself, too, speechless and suddenly coy, arms wrapping around his belly protectively. The way Tamrat held himself, even when looking worse for wear than Lance, made him feel a shame that ran up his cheeks.
“Which is?” he managed to say, the words punched out from him.
“Running away,” it was a mere whisper, but Tamrat’s eyes screamed desperately, so desperately, hands trembling as they played with the hem of his coat. “I think we both like doing that.”
Lance understood, then, arms uncurling from around him and body leaning forward. They were the same, he and Tamrat. Trying to fight the current of a sadness so deep it seemed to want to drown them. They were fighting, trying so hard to keep their heads above the water that they had stopped enjoying the feeling of floating, had stopped appreciating the flowing and had become afraid of their too heavy bodies.
He swam forward, to the edge of the pool, to Tamrat. He looked like a wild animal, feline finesse turning into something denser, more dangerous. His eyes were focused on Lance, speaking volumes, fears that Lance would never be able to understand. But, even so, Tamrat’s unspoken words were clear for him.
Come closer, I only bite those who hurt me.
“I don’t like it,” he whispered, swimming forward until his fingers touched the wall of the pool. “Sometimes it’s… easier.”
“And sometimes it’s not.”
It was never easy, they both knew. But there was a truth hidden there, something that was settled deep inside of Lance, an idea that refused to leave. He surprised himself when he opened his mouth to voice it, to give it form, opening himself up for a moment to Tamrat.
“I think I would break if I didn’t.”
His voice was so soft he could barely recognize it, his hands trembling as he casted his eyes downward. He had never admitted it out loud. He had never wanted to admit it out loud. But it felt good, and terrifying at the same time, to voice it, to leave it out in the open.
He was afraid of breaking, had been for too long.
And maybe that wasn’t something to be ashamed of.
Maybe that was something that could be understood, Lance thought when he saw the way Tamrat’s hand moved from the corner of his eye. It hovered over Lance’s head, close to touching his wet locks, before curling into a fist and drawing away.
And it broke Lance’s heart, that someone could be afraid of giving solace like that.
“I did. Once,” Tamrat said, hands decisively locked over his lap, staring ahead of him and squaring his shoulders, bearing the weight of that admission.
Lance looked at him, all widened eyes and unformed words. There sat the embodiment of his deepest fears, still alive and breathing, confiding in Lance with a softness it made Lance forget about his own edges.
How could you break someone like this?
“But you wouldn’t. You are fierce.”
“Fierce?” Lance chuckled in disbelief, a sound that reverberated through the room.
Nobody had ever described him like that. He had always been the sharpshooter, the strategist, the sweet-talker. He had had to act in cold blood, from far away, studying statistics and body language. Keith was the fierce one, the raging fire that consumed everything, not him.
“You haven’t seen yourself swim,” Tamrat shook his head, and his voice tugged Lance’s mind away from the whirlwind that was the Keith from his mind.
Tamrat sighed, watching the sunset set from the windows, watching the light die, and Lance couldn’t stop looking at him, couldn’t stop aching at the thought of the opportunity he had gifted him with.
This wasn’t for anyone. Not for the universe, not for his friends, not for his family.
Not for Keith.
It was for him.
This was his.
“Train me.”
Tamrat tilted his head towards him, considering him. He watched Lance for a few seconds, searching for something and, when he found it, he smiled. It was small and soft, and Lance smiled back, excitement rushing inside his veins when Tamrat extended his hand to pull him up, just as he had done the first time.
“It would a pleasure.”
He was going to be trained by a professional.
It was the only thing he could think of while he showered, while he set the table, while he helped her mother around in the kitchen, as she prepared dinner. It was a surreal thought, something that should have never happened to him.
And yet, here he was, with Tamrat’s phone number saved in his phone and a promise to work on a schedule soon.
The smell of the food invaded the kitchen, her mother’s old cassette playing her favourite songs, and even when surrounded by familiarity, it all still felt surreal. Lance wanted to tell his mother, voice his thoughts, because maybe by doing so they would solidify, become something that he could finally believe.
He wanted to, but couldn’t. His mind was a mess of crossed thoughts, Tamrat and Keith tangling inside of his head, wisp of a smoke he wanted to put out, even when his phone remained silently still.
So instead of opening his mouth, he watched his mother cook, a soothing ritual for her, and for him. She was gorgeous, outlined by the slits of a dying sun as she danced in front of the fire, spatula in hand. The breeze entered through the open window and Lance breathed it in, the mix of smells making him close his eyes.
He suddenly felt a rush of affection for his mother, for this place, for his whole family. It ran through his chest like lighting, clinging to his nerves upon arriving to his mind, making him understand that he was lucky.
Lucky in the prettiest way, because everything would stay the same— his mother’s songs, his father’s photographs, his siblings’ favourite pyjamas— even if he wasn’t there. Even if things didn’t work out for him.
It was a relieving thought, although a punishing one.
Several sharp sounds from the front door startled them both, drawing a curse out of Candela when she dropped her spatula. The knocks were resonant, a rapid succession that made Lance tilt his head, curious, already out of his seat before his mother asked him to get the door.
He wrapped his fingers around the knob, pushing with his shoulder until the door opened, ready to greet the person, but his body froze when he looked up.
It was like seeing a ghost, watching the boy standing in front of the door, bathed in the light of the porch as his chest heaved, breathing harshly, as if he had run for miles.
His body ached fiercely and he thought, numbly, that the boy looked like Keith.
The handle of the door slipped from between his fingers, the breeze rocking it gently, creaking sounds echoing through the air.
“Lance,” the boy breathed out, then, a harsh exhale that woke Lance’s entire being with a shock of electricity, his toes curling.
Keith looked like a wild animal, his eyes searching desperately for a telling sign of Lance’s reaction, body tight with tension as he took in the silence, the slight tremor of his limbs. He was a lion, waiting with contained strength, and Lance would have melted pliantly underneath his claws in a heartbeat, without a single trace of hesitation.
He wouldn’t have run, didn’t want to, so when he saw Keith opening his mouth and closing in again, lost for words, he extended his hand, trembling fingers catching the low light of the porch as he reached for Keith, aching to know if he was real or just a wild and frenzied fragment of his imagination.
He was numb, mind far away from there, unable to wrap itself around what reality presented him with, but he felt everything in his very core, body reacting sweetly to every shift in Keith’s reactions.
Keith was taller now, Lance thought, distractedly, mind trying to ease itself back to functioning, to realising that he wasn’t imagining this. That he wasn’t imagining the way the scars drew against his jaw and cheek, a relief of white and tender skin, nor the way Keith was holding his breath, a flickering light burning in his pupils.
And he definitely couldn’t have imagined the way Keith reached for him in turn, fingertips brushing against each other shyly, trembling. It made something inside of his chest explode, a rush of eagerness seeping through his bones, turning his touch firmer, daring, a delight when he heard Keith’s breath hitch.
Lance still couldn’t breathe, but he wanted Keith to call his name like that again.
He was real, standing on his porch, touching him as he built Lance’s world anew, and Lance still couldn’t wrap his mind around it.
“Lance,” his voice broke around the edges; a shattering miracle, an antithesis to how tenderly he took Lance’s fingers in between his.
He had to close his eyes to gather himself, to feel Keith’s skin more strongly, to hear the wisp of his breathy voice. But he missed Keith’s eyes, tender and scorching, wandering through his face and drinking in every detail, every shift of expression, every gasp of breath.
Keith couldn’t look away, caught in between furrowed brows and quivering lips.
Their imperceptible caress grew strong when Lance’s fingers twitched against his and Keith’s eyes drew away, getting captured by the way their hands looked together, an entangled, trembling mess.
His fingers wandered through the skin, then, brushing against Lance’s inner wrist, feeling for his pulse. Keith trembled when he saw a shudder take over Lance’s body, opening his mouth as he melted.
It was the most beautiful thing Keith had ever seen.
“I’m here,” he whispered, feeling Lance’s raging heartbeat against his fingertips, quivering when his eyes opened.
They stood, unmoving as they watched each other, afraid of shattering the peace, the unusual equilibrium in their own orbit that made gravity make sense. But Keith didn’t care about orbits, never had, so he took a step forward, bringing them closer and making gravity strain. Keith, with his longer hair, with his new piercings in his ear and with his incredibly big and pretty eyes, making Lance’s heart revolt against his chest.
It was infuriating, how much Lance ached, how much he wanted to mess Keith’s hair up, just to bury his fingers there. How much he wanted to trace his scars, brush his lips against Keith’s half-opened ones.
How much he needed his mind to catch up with his body.
Lance took a step forward, too, body desperate for something . Before he knew it, he was sobbing, Keith gasping as they both lurched forward, the gravity of their own orbit pulling them in, in, in—
Keith would have described it as the birth of a star. Or its death. Something magnificent, because being able to wrap his arms around Lance’s body, to feel his curves against him and the way he breathed into his neck felt like the creation of the universe on itself.
For Lance, it felt like being born again. Like breathing for the first time. Because that’s what he could do now, breathe without the heavy weight that had threatened to drown him so many times before. He was settled against Keith, tight and close, and could only feel relief washing all over him, wet cheeks finding solace on Keith’s skin.
It was the smell that made Lance lightheaded; more fresh and forest-like, but still indistinctly Keith, indescribable and grounding. It also was the way Keith’s fingers pressed against his lower back, a desperate hold that had Lance gripping Keith’s jacket over his shoulder blades, clutching at it and shivering, letting Keith feel it within his own body.
Keith inhaled, face buried in Lance’s hair and Lance’s hands tightened his grip against his back, knees weak and unresponsive.
“Keith,” he sobbed, warmth making him dizzy when Keith intertwined their fingers together. “Keith.”
Something tugged inside of his chest, urgently, and he drew away from Keith, from his refuge against his neck, to look at his face, to take him in as close as they were. Keith’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, gathering there lazily, almost as if Keith was still too shocked to let them spill.
Keith’s skin was glowing, a reddened touch high on his cheekbones that made Lance’s fingers twitch, longing to brush against it. He freed his hands from everything, including Keith’s tender fingers to do so, slow and deliberately. He felt tears gathering back in his eyes when Keith leaned into his touch, closing his eyes for a moment, vulnerable and gorgeous.
He sighed when Keith’s knuckles came up to brush against his cheek in turn, caress the corner of his mouth with a telling shiver.
“You’re here,” Lance whispered, voice breaking around the edges as he felt Keith’s thumbs gathering the tears over his skin. “How are you here?”
“Hunk texted me,” his voice was just a murmur, a thread of voice spilled into the space separating them. He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “Said you were going to feel down after he left. That me being here would be good for you. And then you texted me.”
Lance’s heart melted, simmered with what was implicit, the easiness with which Keith had driven for hours on end just to be with him. It was insane, Lance thought dizzily, as his hands slipped into Keith’s hair, fingers tangling in his locks.
“So you came here? Just like that?” he asked, breathless, heart sky-rocketing when Keith made a small pleased sound at the tight grip Lance had on his hair.
“Just like that,” he murmured, warmth breath spilling over Lance’s lips and straying his thoughts for a second. “I—I should have answered you. Shouldn’t have left you hanging like that. I’m sorry, Lance, I should have— should have said something before showing up out of the blue—.”
“Shh,” Lance soothed, tapping their noses together, shyly at first, and daringly when Keith leaned into it with a soft whimper. “Stay.”
Forever, Lance wanted to say, but refrained from it, swallowing when Keith opened his eyes slowly: “Stay for as long as you want.”
And there it was, a tension in the air, in the set of Keith’s shoulder that made Lance’s stomach drop as Keith called his name in a rough voice: “Lance—“
“Lance?” Candela’s voice came from behind them, door still open as she leaned against it, watching with critical eyes the scene. “Is everything alright?”
“M-Mom!” Lance yelped, turning around to face his mother. He let go of Keith, skin crawling and mind screaming for him to come back, to burrow into Keith’s warmth. “Y-yeah, all is good. Just… peachy.”
It wasn’t, not when his hands weren’t on Keith’s skin, but Keith’s presence was still strong against his back, a reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere. Lance could feel Keith breathing, slightly off, and couldn’t help but imagine him with widened eyes, staring at Candela nervously.
Lance ached to look at him, but his mother’s presence was a magnet, her frown something that left Lance standing on his toes.
“T-this is Keith,” Lance stuttered, clearing his throat awkwardly and turning sideways to let his mother have a better look at him. “My—.”
Friend. The word burned in his throat but got tangled in his tongue, refusing to spill from there. He swallowed a gasp when Keith’s fingers hovered over his lower back, fingertips straying to his hip in a slow motion that deafened Lance for a moment.
“Fri—,” Keith cut himself then, looking at Lance with a soft expression, eyebrows furrowed. He seemed to fight a war inside of his head as his fingers stopped drawing patterns on his hip, digging into the skin instead. “Mm. I’m the red paladin. It’s an honour to finally meet you.”
Lance couldn’t stop looking at him. Couldn’t stop from repeating the way Keith had refrained from saying that they were friends inside of his mind. Couldn’t stop his breath from hitching at the implications, even when his mother suddenly lurched forward, winding her arms around Keith and hugging him with a happy cry.
“You’re Keith!! I can’t believe I finally got to meet you!”
Keith’s eyes widened, arms hovering over her figure, fingers twitching, not knowing what to do. Lance watched, while biting his lower lip, the way Keith melted against Candela when she planted a sound kiss against his forehead, when she whispered something into his heated skin.
They stayed like that for a second, until Keith nodded against her, mumbling something that Lance wasn’t able to catch. Candela drew away from him, then, excitement brightening her eyes as her hands settled on Keith’s biceps before asking: “Are you staying, dear?”
Watching the way Keith reddened, the way the heat painted his pain skin when he saw Candela’s bright smile was a miracle for Lance on its own.
“I-I can stay the night wherever. I don’t want to intrude—“
“Shut up, Keith,” Lance chirped in, stepping closer and taking over the space Candela had been before. He extended his hand, still trembling slightly, and took two of Keith’s fingers in between his, breathing out. “You are staying with me.”
The look Keith gave him could rival with a million sunsets, a thousand galaxies, the entire universe, even, because nothing had ever made Lance’s belly flare up like this. Nothing had ever gotten underneath his skin like Keith’s vulnerable and hoping eyes had.
And with Candela entering the house, chatting away to herself about beds and dinners, with Keith’s fingers tightening around his as he smiled softly, Hunk’s words replayed inside his mind in an urgent whisper. A call that made Lance’s hope rage inside his bones.
Learn to believe it.
|
Lena weakly smiled up at Kara. “You’re all I’ve been wanting for so long.” She coughed and then grimaced in pain. Her aches were getting worse. “I cant believe that you’re mine.”
Kara looked at her worriedly. “I’m yours, Lena. I’m yours.” She said comfortingly, worry etched in her tone. “I think we should get you to Alex now.”
Lena shook her head. “It’d hurt too much to fly. My body aches all over.”
Kara frowned. “Hold on, I have an idea.” She zipped away into Lena’s en-suite. Lena heard the bathtub faucet switch on and the water start to rush. Once the water was running Kara was back at Lena’s side in a flash.
“I promise I’m not going to fly you anywhere, this will just be a twenty foot walk to the bathroom, so may I please pick you up?” Kara asked sweetly.
“I will never pass up a chance to be in your arms.” Lena breathed. The pain was starting to be suffocating.
Kara picked Lena up as gently as she could and carried her into her en-suite. When they reached the bathroom, Lena saw that Kara had Lena’s jacuzzi tub turned on, and the water was steaming.
She looked up to Kara questioningly to which Kara responded with a smile. “The jets will massage your muscles and the heat will calm the pain while we wait for Alex to arrive. Because I’m calling her, Lena. I’m not waiting around anymore. I’m not playing the lottery with your life.” Kara explained. She sat Lena down on the closed toilet. “Can I undress you?”
“You can always undress me.” Lena grinned feebly.
Kara smiled lovingly at her. “Such a flirt.”
“Only to you.”
Kara kissed her hand at that. “Good because I don’t share.” She said with a wink. Then she turned serious once more. “I’m going to take your pants and shirt off as gently as I can and then I’m going to place you into the bathtub, okay?”
Lena nodded wobbly.
Kara smiled and gave her a small nod. “Okay. Here we go.” She said before she gently began to lift Lena’s shirt up. “Can you lift your arms, baby?”
Lena nodded and slowly lifted up her arms. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me for taking care of you, Lena. I will always take care of you. Do you hear me? Always.” Kara vowed passionately. “I love you, Lena. I’m going to take care of you until the day I die.”
Lena couldn’t even begin to express the level of elation Kara’s words were bringing to her.
Once Lena’s shirt was off Kara brought her hands to Lena’s pants. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Lena nodded.
Kara smiled and undid her button, slowly pulling them down. She helped Lena steady herself as she slowly stepped out of them.
As soon as Lena had gotten out of her bra and underwear, Kara slowly lifted Lena up and placed her into the soothing hot water.
The water did miracles for her pain and Lena let out a loud moan of relief. The heat of the water, mixed with the massaging of the jets felt amazing, and alleviated some of the aching that she was suffering.
Kara smiled at her, but Lena could tell that she was still terrified for her. She wanted to calm her down. So she used what little strength she had left and reached out her hand for Kara to grab. “I’m going to be fine, Darling. Just need a few days to rehabilitate and then I’ll be back on my feet.”
“That’s what you think, but you can’t be sure, Lena. You can’t be sure of anything about this because you didn’t even know that this was possible! You thought it was safe until ten minutes right before you used activated it.” Kara countered. “I’m not losing you, Lena.”
Lena nodded. “I know. I understand why you’re scared, if I were in your position I’d be terrified for you too. But I’m okay, my love. I’m okay.”
Kara sat on the edge of the tub, and grabbed Lena’s offered hand rubbing circles on the back of Lena’s hand with her thumb. “If that’s true, then getting you checked out shouldn’t be an issue.”
“Kara, you don’t have to worry about me.”
“I’m going to worry about you forever, Lena. So please, if not for you, let Alex check you out and do it for me. I just want to make sure that you’re going to make a one hundred percent full recovery.” Kara pleaded.
Lena’s heart swelled at Kara’s blatant display of love and concern for her. “Okay, my love. It’s okay. Alex can do whatever tests she wants.”
Kara lifted Lena’s hand up and placed a tender kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you. I just need to make sure that you’re okay.”
Lena’s soul filled with love. “I know, Darling. And I love you for it.”
XXX
Once Alex had arrived, Kara gently took Lena out of the bathtub, put her into a comfortable pair of pajamas. When Lena was fully clothed, Kara brought her out into the bedroom so that Alex could look her over. However, with every test Alex did, her face grew dimmer and dimmer, causing a sinking feeling in Lena’s gut.
Lena was going to die.
Lena looked over to Kara and saw the hope in her eyes, and Lena’s heart sank. Kara was going to be devastated. She fought back tears. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to live a full life with Kara. She wanted a house, a white picket fence with two dogs and a cat… and whatever else they chose for their future.
If she wasn’t getting any of that.
“Nothing is making sense!” Alex said frustratedly as she shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything like this in my life!”
Lena’s heart sank as she looked to Kara and saw the devastation on her face. “Hey, hey, Darling. Calm down. Breathe. Just breathe.”
Alex nodded. “Yeah, my gear is probably faulty.” She said. “I’ll go to the D.E.O. and pick another set up. I’m sure she’s going to be fine.”
“No. She’s not.” Came a familiar voice.
Lena looked to the door to her bedroom to find Brainy’s hologram. “From the tests that Alex has run, and the information I’ve had her send back to me I’ve gathered all the information I need to confidently tell you that the reason Lena is sick, is because there is only just under a quarter of her life force left. Sadly, that is not enough for it to replenish itself on its own.”
Kara’s grip on Lena’s hand grew tighter. “So what do we do?”
“We ask Lillian for help.” Brainy said solemnly. “She is the only one that has the blueprints to make an exact replica that would be needed in order to reverse the extrapolator’s doings. Unfortunately, I’m not sure even that is possible; even in the 30th century I’ve never heard of a synthetic life force.”
Lena watched as Kara’s face went blank, and Lena’s heart ached. She wished more than anything that she was strong enough to sit up and hug her, but she wasn’t… Not anymore… and now that her body wasn’t immersed in hot water with massaging jets, her aches were increasingly getting worse. It was so bad that if she didn’t have Kara… She would be wishing for death right then.
“Well… What about the Harun-El that you got from her friends on Earth 38? Couldn’t that cure her? Couldn’t we just go to Earth 38 and get some?”
Brainy’s mouth turned down and he shook his head in the negative. “Unfortunately no. Harun-El can cure injuries, and in some cases even diseases, but this is neither an injury, nor a disease. Our only hope is getting Lillian, or finding another source to get at least half of a life force so that Lena has enough to survive.”
“She can take mine!” Kara said frantically. “Whatever she needs, she can have it.”
Brainy’s already somber expression dimmed more than it already had. “The person she gets the life force from, must also be human. Kryptonians have a much different type of life force, which is why they naturally live longer than most humans without giving humans special gadgets.” Brainy explained. “And even more unfortunately, no one can survive with only half a life source, so whoever we try to get the life force from, would die. We also can’t use two separate people; the life force has to come from the same person. Three life forces can’t be merged into one body. The body wouldn’t be able to withstand it.”
“How would we administer the life force if we found one somehow?” Kara asked.
“We’d need Lillian to give us another special extrapolator. One exactly like the one Lena used to open the portal.” Brainy informed.
“How long does she have?” Alex interjected.
Brainy sighed and lowered his head. He then looked back up. “Three days at the maximum, but because she is already so frail, it’s looking more along the lines of one and a half.”
Lena’s heart sank. She’d finally got the love of her life, only to die before getting a chance to love her fully. She was saddened that she was going to die, a little frightened even, but she was heartbroken that Kara was going to be devastated by a significant loss once again.
Kara’s face turned to ice. “I’m not letting her die!”
“I know that. We have to find Lillian.” Brainy agreed.
“You’re damn right we do!” Kara growled. She turned to Alex. “I need you to watch after her while I go searching for Lillian.”
“Kara don’t kill her.” Alex said in a warning tone.
“I won’t. Not until she’s no longer useful, at least.” Kara replied harshly before turning back to Lena. “You hold on for me, okay? You hold on for me, and don’t you dare give up. I love you. I love you more than anything.”
Lena swallowed and smiled at Kara, she was barely able to keep her eyes open, but through her hooded eyes she could see the passion and sincerity written all over her face. “I love you too.” She coughed, then grimaced in pain. “Be careful, Darling.”
“I will. Nothing will ever stop me from being able to come home to you.” Kara replied before she leaned down and kissed Lena soundly on the lips. “I will be back to check in on you in two hours if I don’t find her by then, okay? Then I’ll go out searching again. I’m not going to stop. I promise you that. I am going to save you. You are going to live, and we are going to grow ancient together.”
Lena knew that Kara meant what she said, but she also knew that things weren’t going to turn out the way that Kara hoped. Lillian knew how to hide from Kryptonians. She’d mastered that art long ago; and even if by some miracle she did find her, Lillian would never help.
She knew that she was going to die. “I love you, darling.”
“I love you too.” Kara replied before Super speeding into her Supersuit and flying away.
Lena weakly turned her head and smiled fragilely as she watched her love fly away. “Fly high, Darling.”
XXX
“I know I’m not going to survive.” Lena said once she woke up some time later.
“Lena, don’t say that. You know Kara will do everything under the sun to save you.” Alex said comfortingly.
Lena shook her head. “I know. She’s a blessing from Rao himself, and I love her for her determination, but there is no way she is going to find Lillian in time. And even if she does, Lillian will not help me. She’s wanted me dead from the moment I stepped foot into the Luthor household.”
“Lena…”
“Stop it, Alex. We all know where this is headed.” Lena coughed again. “You have to promise me that you’ll take care of Kara. Don’t let her out of your sight. She’s going to spiral again, and that’s not what she deserves. Make sure she eats, keep her away from Kryptonite and anything that could harm her. Put her in intense therapy. Ease her guilt and encourage her to love again. She deserves to have everything she’s ever wanted.”
“What she wants is you, Lena.” Alex stated. “You aren’t going to die.”
“Yes.” Lena nodded. “I am. But Kara needs to live anyway. She needs to never blame herself. Needs to know that I did this to myself.”
Alex gave her a defeated look. “We’re all here for you. You’re never going to be alone.”
Lena’s eyes watered. “Not even three weeks ago this situation would’ve put a smile on your face. Now you’re going to be comforting me as I die.”
“Lena I know we’ve got a lot of bad blood between us, but I don’t want you to die. We’re mending bridges. So you can’t die. You won’t die. Kara is going to save you.” Alex disagreed.
Lena shook her head. “Alex, I’m going to die. Please stop pretending we don’t both know that.”
Alex lowered head and sighed with a shake of her head. “Why did you do it, Lena? You knew you’d die. Why would you do this to yourself?”
“Because she deserves to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Was to make her happy.” Lena admitted. “And I thought what would make her happy was her wife and son.”
“Jesus…” Alex shook her head. “I’ve been so wrong about you for so long… I hated you for so long and you’ve… you’ve never once hurt her.” Alex replied. “Not really. You’ve loved her and sacrificed for her… and you’ve never let her down. Not once. And I can see how you look at her… I’ve never seen someone love someone so deeply.” She sighed once more. “And you never let me down either… Not after the accident.” She met Lena’s eyes. “You tried so hard and I just… I refused to see it, and now it’s too late. My best friend is dying and I missed out on sixteen years with her because I couldn’t see that she was still the same person that I knew and trusted.”
“I don’t blame you.” Lena breathed through a raspy voice. “I can’t say I wouldn’t hate someone that paralyzed me.”
“Yes, but… You proved multiple times over that you got the help you needed. And you apologized so many damn times.” Alex said sadly. “You’ve saved my life at the risk of your own, then you were getting ready to break your own heart and die all to make my little sister happy. You’re a good person, Lena. And I’m so sorry it took so long for me to see it. This is not the end you deserved.”
Lena moved her eyes to study Alex’s face, finding nothing but genuine sincerity. “I’m glad you finally think that I’m the same person that was your best friend all those years ago.” She tried her hardest to form a smile with her lips. “I’ve missed our friendship. More than you probably will ever know.”
Alex smiled sadly as her eyes darted to the floor. “I missed our friendship too. We were a good team.”
Tears spewed from Lena’s eyes. “I really wanted to marry your sister someday.” She cried. She weakly shook her head. “I’m so scared, Alex. I don’t want to die.”
Pain and despair spread over Alex’s face. She grabbed Lena’s hand. “I’m here. You’re not alone. You won’t be alone.”
Lena squeezed Alex’s hand as hard as she could manage (which was very faintly). “Thank you.” She swallowed at the lump of emotions in her throat. “That means the world.”
Alex smiled and turned to the TV “How about we watch something to distract us?”
Lena gave an almost imperceptible nod.
After receiving Lena’s agreement, Alex walked over to the TV to play a rerun of a mindless show. Lena smiled though, it was a nice escape from reality, no matter how bad the acting was.
After about another twenty minutes, Lena began to feel chilled and started trembling, Alex frowned. “Are you okay?”
Lena chuckled sickly. “No. I’m dying.”
Alex rolled her eyes tearfully. “I mean… what do you need to feel comfortable?”
“I’m just cold. A few more blankets would be nice.” Lena answered.
Alex nodded and went to get the blankets, as she did so, there was a thud on Lena’s balcony. Lena’s heart flipped and she smiled at the familiar sound. She slowly turned her head to face Kara. “Hello, Darling.”
Kara came to sit on the bed with Lena, pulling Lena close to her. “How are you doing, honey?”
“I’m doing the best I could be doing given the situation.” Lena joked, which she regretted when she saw the absolute devastation on her girlfriend‘s face.
“I’m going to find her, Lena. I promise.” Kara replied. She frowned. “Oh my Rao, Lena. You’re sweating profusely.” She zipped to the en-suite and came back seconds later with a wet towel, dabbing at her forehead. “How does that feel?”
Lena’s heart swelled at Kara’s tender love and care. “Wonderful.” She breathed, meeting Kara’s eyes.
As soon as she said that, Alex was back with the blankets. “Here you go, Lena.” She said as she covered Lena up with three heavy quilts. “Hopefully that will help.”
Lena’s teeth were chattering but she nodded. “Thank you.”
Kara kissed Lena’s forehead. “Just hang on, okay? I’m going to find her.”
Lena’s heart exploded with love for Kara and her determination. She just wished it wasn’t going to end up breaking Kara’s heart in the end.
Alex looked at her sister. “Where do you think you’re going to look next?”
Kara sighed and shook her head defeatedly. “I don’t-“
The TV interrupted her:
“We interrupt our scheduled programming to bring you this breaking news: The Famous Philanthropist and CEO of L-Corp: Lena Luthor, has passed away of an unknown disease.” The news anchor announced.
“We now go live to her beloved mother, Lillian Luthor.”
Lena looked to the TV to see her mother standing in front of L-Corp with a reporter from the Daily Planet and what appeared to be tears in her eyes. Lena knew they were fake. Lillian wasn’t capable of emotions.
“I just can’t believe it.” Lillian said, making a show of wiping away her crocodile tears. “She was so healthy! It was just so unexpected” she sniffed. “and I will miss her greatly. And I will accept the burden of taking charge of L-Corp, and do my very best to make her proud with each action I take.”
Len wanted to growl. Lillian did try to kill her on purpose. She wanted L-Corp all to herself. She had already known that was what happened, but she foolishly had hoped she was wrong.
Lillian must have known that the portal was activated, and was so confident that it’d killed Lena that she didn’t even search for her body… perhaps when bodies were completely stripped of their life force they evaporated? Lena didn’t know. She didn’t really care either. She just wanted to punch her.
The only thing that didn’t have any logical explanation (at least from what Lena could see) was why Lillian felt confident enough to publicly announce her death without fear of repercussions from Kara.
Lena internally scoffed at herself as she answered her own question.
Lillian most likely thought that Kara had her wife and child back and wasn’t even thinking about Earth or Lena… Because how could Lena matter to Kara when she didn’t even matter to her own mother?
That was Lillian’s way of reasoning, anyway.
“That bitch has a lot of fucking nerve!” Kara seethed as she stood up with pure hatred and rage on her face. She turned to Lena. “I’m going to get her. I’m going to make her heal you. No matter what it takes.”
Lena frowned. Kara wasn’t in the right state of mind to be going after anyone. Least of all Lillian. “Kara maybe we should send the D.-,”
But it fell on deaf ears, and Kara flew away towards L-Corp… this was going to end very, very badly. For either, Kara or Lillian.
Lena was pretty certain that Kara would win this one, though. |
At first, it wasn’t noticeable. Wei Wuxian managed to finish his final number with ease despite the growing discomfort. He was aware of the pheromones that he was emitting, as his dancers seemed to have trouble with their breathing as they did their flips and stunts. On the other hand, it seemed to rile the crowd up even more as Wei Wuxian ground and humped the stage floor. Sadly, there was no encore at this concert as his brother and manager, Jiang Cheng, screeched in his ear to get off the stage ASAP!
“I can’t believe this!” Wei Wuxian hissed as he emptied a whole bottle of water on himself. His dancers and musicians ran away from him as soon as they entered backstage. Even Jiang Cheng somehow found a peg for his nose as they tried to gauge the situation. “Didn’t you send Wen Ning to go get some?!” His bodyguard was sent to every pharmacy in the city to try and find any forms of heat suppressants. However, being in a foreign country, many people were not used to his unusual appearance or the language barrier, so they did not help him.
“I know, but he couldn’t find any!” Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes as he saw their stylist scurrying out of the break room as soon as they entered. The only people that stayed was the senior staff.
There was Wen Qing, his head stylist and elder sister of Wen Ning. The bodyguard was nowhere to be seen, so he must still be in his hunt. Of course, Jiang Cheng, the manager in charge of PR and scheduling. And the worst of all, Lan Wangji, the manager in charge of his well-being and health. It made no sense why the brother of the CEO of Gusu Entertainment would be working such a job, but he accepted the terms on the recommendation of his sister Jiang Yanli, who was the most popular actress in the country.
“I have no idea what to do! We have two days left in Bangkok and then we’re going to Manila. We can’t afford to delay any shows because of your heat.” Jiang Cheng paced around the room as he tried to think of a solution. This was Wei Wuxian’s first Asian tour, and it would look bad if they had to cancel shows. It was already a feat that an omega was able to achieve such level of success and if they had to cancel due to Wei Wuxian being in heat, then all the negative press would be too much to handle.
“Calm down. We will work something out.” Lan Wangji seemed to be the only composed one in the room. Any time he opens his mouth, Wei Wuxian just wants to press the mute button on him. Something about him was very off-putting – maybe because he was the only alpha Wei Wuxian had encountered who never showed any interest in him!
“What will we do?” Wen Qing hissed as she took a break from her call with headquarters on what to do next.
“We will rest first. Clear our minds.”
That was how Wei Wuxian was back at his Airbnb apartment with a city view, drinking alone to calm his heat. Even though Wen Ning did not come back with any heat suppressants, he still knew Wei Wuxian well enough to bring him a hamper of Thailand’s finest spirits. Everyone else was at the Bangkok Gusu Ent. Office to have a conference call with their CEO back home.
Taking another swing of the finely aged whisky, Wei Wuxian tried not to think about how his skin felt like it was on fire from the on-coming heat. He was busy admiring the honey colour of the whisky when he heard the lock of the door open. Turning his head, Wei Wuxian prepared to welcome his brother, who probably brought some junk food to share. But the smile flew off his face when he saw that it was none other than Lan Wangji. Audibly scoffing, Wei Wuxian reached for the bottle. He needed all the alcohol to deal with this one.
“Wei Ying,” another reason to hate Lan Wangji, he was the only one to call him by his birth name as if they were mates or something. “You need to eat.” The manager gently placed the bag on the kitchen counter where Wei Wuxian was sitting. Strangely, he could only smell the food in the container, but no trace of the alpha pheromones from the other. He wanted to ask about it but decided that food was the main priority. Usually, after a concert, the whole cast and crew would go for a BBQ, but obviously, this time was different.
“I told you… not to call me that.” Wei Wuxian’s words slurred slightly as he tried his best to glare at the male.
Lan Wangji said nothing as he unwrapped the Prawn Pad Thai and placed it on an elegant plate for the idol. “Eat.”
Wei Wuxian’s eyes narrowed as he eyed the food. Sure, Lan Wangji was in charge of his health, but it was the first time that he had approached him in such a gentle manner. Normally he would be trying to force-feed Wei Wuxian all kinds of food that were apparently good for his body and mind.
“Fine. But I’m eating this because I want to, not because you told me to.” He must have been hungrier than expected because Wei Wuxian basically inhaled everything. “Ohh that was nice.” He sighed contently as he flopped himself onto the sofa. Lan Wangji was sat in the armchair, silently tapping away on his iPad. “Any news?” The heat was starting to get uncomfortable now. He was aware that he was releasing extra-strong pheromones from being so close to an alpha. But Lan Wangji showed no signs of being affected at all. And it was starting to irritate him.
“No.” Curt as always. Wei Wuxian can’t recall a time where Lan Wangji spoke more than ten words at a time. How aggravating.
“Then what am I supposed to do? Its been so long since I had a heat.” The idol groaned at the empty answer that did nothing to calm the storm within him. “If only I have someone to fuck…”
At that, Lan Wangji looked up from the screen. The light from the gadget made him look like some ethereal creature, and it made Wei Wuxian uncomfortable for some reason. The manager looked like he was going to say something, even opened his mouth, but the words were left on the tip of his tongue as he closed those gorgeous lips and went back to the task.
“What?” Wei Wuxian hated not knowing things, so he began to push for an answer. There was no reply from the other as he pretended not to have heard him. “Lan Zhan…Lan Wangji…Er-Gege!” It was fun to tease – Wei Wuxian was sure he was going to get a reaction when the alpha raised his head again. “Tell me?” Putting on his sweetest voice, the idol begged cutely. Once again, his manager raised his head, but this time, there was a strange look in those golden eyes. When their eyes met, Wei Wuxian swore that the tiniest bit of lubrication slipped out. And Lan Wangji seemed to notice it too if the tiniest flare of his nostrils was any indication. Lan Wangji was notorious within the company and even Wei Wuxian’s fans for having the most impassive face ever. Recently, he even had his own fan sites popping up to share pictures of ‘The perfect jade statute-like man’. Wei Wuxian was not envious at all.
“There is a way to help.” Lan Wangji avoided his eyes again.
“Oh? Telll mee pleasseeeee!” Why did he slip into such a submissive tone? Must have been the whisky.
Once again, he had to wait for his reply. Wei Wuxian was so close to clawing out of his own skin from the anticipation and his heat continues to grow.
“Wei Ying will need to listen to me.” Ah, he knew what Lan Wangji was implying, and frankly, he was a little insulted. His manager doesn’t think he can listen to him. Granted, their track record had proven this to be true, which is one of the reasons why Lan Wangji had taken to personally hand-feeding the idol. But Wei Wuxian was not one to back down. He will prove that he can listen to Lan Wangji and make him eat his words!
*
How it happened was a blur. All Lan Wangji said was, “Strip. Go kneel by the bed and wait for me.”
And Wei Wuxian did it!
He was naked, on his knees with arms behind his back on the floor at the foot of the bed. Whatever possessed him to do it, he had no idea. Wei Wuxian was desperate to save his career and trusted Lan Wangji enough to go with his plans. His own head was feeling dizzy as the heat went from a light growl to a full roar through his body at this point. The air con felt like daggers against his heated skin as he shivered from the sensation. His mind raced at what would happen. Working so close together, it was not the first time that Lan Wangji saw him naked. But he was an omega in heat and Lan Wangji as an alpha. There was only one way this was going to go.
It felt like forever before Lan Wangji came into the room. Wei Wuxian heard his light footsteps making their way to the armchair in the corner, and smelt the tiniest hint of alpha pheromones before he heard another command.
“Come here.” Preparing himself to get up and turn around, he was stopped in his tracks. “Crawl.” What did he just say? “You heard me.” Lan Wangji added as if he heard Wei Wuxian’s thoughts. He wanted the naked omega to crawl to him? Swallowing any snarky retort, Wei Wuxian did as he was told. There was no good reason for him to sabotage his one chance of getting out of this heat.
When he turned around and began to crawl, his hole began to secrete slick as he saw the sight before him.
Lan Wangji was sat with his back fully rested against the chair, but he was topless. And it was the first time that Wei Wuxian had ever seen him in such a way because he noticed the azure cloud tattoos bracing each side of his shoulders just underneath the collarbone. And wow, who knew that he was ripped too? Lan Wangji was always in his serious manager clothes with long sleeves and blazers, so Wei Wuxian was not able to previously gauge how toned he was. Trailing his eyes down the prefect porcelain skin, past the eight-pack and Adonis belt, his eyes settled on the large bulge under the navy trousers.
Slowly making his way over, as if he were stalking prey, although he was unsure which one was the real prey in this situation, Wei Wuxian was finally able to smell it. That rich, husky scent of an alpha. Its been so long since he had smelt one this strong and domineering, and his bodily immediately went slack. His legs became more open, mouth agape in a silent invitation, cock starting to leak precum, and his slick was running down his thighs with no sign of stopping.
When he finally made his way between the open legs, eyes gazing up at the alpha before him, Wei Wuxian had to fight the urge to turn around and offer his ass to be taken.
“I will help with your heat.” Lan Wangji said nonchalantly as one finger reached out and brushed a stray hair from the omega’s eyes. “But you will have to listen to me. Yes?” Wei Wuxian was speechless as he nodded. This was a totally different man from the stoic, cold manager that he was used to. It was almost like the other male finally allowed his alpha qualities to show. If he was like this since they first met, then Wei Wuxian was sure that he would have had a fuck buddy from the start, rather than try to hook up on the downlow. Any thoughts of other alphas left his mind when the same finger reached to cup the back of his head, and the omega found his head forcefully buried in the alpha’s groin.
That was where the pheromones were the strongest. It was so pungent that Wei Wuxian could taste it. An earthy tone hit his tongue when he opened it in an appeased moan as he tried to bury his face deeper as if to rip away the fabric.
“Is this what you want?” Lan Wangji’s voice was somehow still steady as the room immediately began to fill with an omega’s call to mate. His cock also hardened when Wei Wuxian attempted to lick it through the fabric. Displeased with such behaviour, the alpha tightened his grip around the omega’s hair and violently pulled his head away from his crotch.
The look that Wei Wuxian was almost enough to make him forget everything and take him as he wanted. But Lan Wangji knew that he had to prolong the arousal for as long as possible so that when Wei Wuxian does ejaculate, it would satiate the heat for a while as they try to find more heat suppressants. The more times he was able to do it, the longer the delay. With glassy grey eyes and saliva erotically dripping down his lips, the omega already looked so fucked out just from his smell alone.
“Take out my cock.” Unlike the first time, Wei Wuxian learned quickly to wait and listen for any further instructions. “With your mouth.” There was a moment of uncertainty on how he was going to do such a thing, but when he smelt Lan Wangji’s comforting pheromones, all the worries were gone. Tentatively, Wei Wuxian moved forward and found that the button was already undone, which was good because he was not that delft with his tongue. Gripping the metal zipper between his teeth, the omega carefully pulled it down. Lan Wangji had no underwear – did he go commando all the time? There was not much resistance from the fabric when the alpha’s cock sprang up from its confines.
Not that Wei Wuxian had been with that many alphas, but he was certain that this was the most perfect erection ever.
The shaft was straight and thick as it led up to the fat cockhead that was covered by the foreskin. It was so long that he wondered if Lan Wangji ever found a place to park it.
Feeling his mouth water, Wei Wuxian wanted so desperately to take it into his mouth until it hit the back of his throat. |
"Let men of all ranks whether they are successful, or unsuccessful, whether they triumph or not — let them do their duty, and rest satisfied." - Plato
Saturday, March 7th
Asami frowned and looked out the dining room window. The rain had followed them to Zaofu, and it had been pouring down without letting up for at least three hours. She sighed and picked up her drawings, along with Korra’s glider staff. She stood up and put her coat on, planning on going to go find Bataar. She found Korra in one of the sitting rooms as she walked through the hallways, playing Pai Sho with Jinora.
“I’m going to go work on my designs with Bataar, if I can find him,” Asami told her, smiling when Korra looked up at her.
“Hold on a minute,” Korra grinned, “Jinora’s about to beat me, so I’ll come with you.”
“Not good enough to win, but good enough to know when you’re losing?” Asami teased, leaning over Korra’s shoulder and looking at the board.
“I like Bolin’s method better,” Korra chuckled, “It’s faster.”
“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Asami warned playfully, “I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“No promises, sunshine.”
It took Jinora three more turns to beat Korra, laughing as she did so.
“I want a rematch later, Jinora,” Korra told her, grinning.
“No way, Korra,” Jinora stuck out her tongue, “You’ll get Asami to help you.”
“You can use Opal,” Korra offered.
“Nope,” Jinora laughed, putting the board away.
“Ugh,” Korra rolled her eyes and grinned, “I’ll see you later.”
Korra let Asami pull her out of the chair, laughing as she did so. Korra took her glider from Asami, using her free hand to hold one of Asami’s as they walked down the hallway together.
“Where is Bataar?” Korra asked, “Do you know?”
“Nope,” Asami laughed, “I think he may be in his dad’s office.”
“Ok,” Korra smiled, “Kuvira will probably be done doing her rounds in a few.”
Asami smiled and squeezed Korra’s hand, letting Korra lead her through the building to Bataar Sr.’s office. Korra knocked tentatively on the large door, a muffled ‘come in’ from the other side came through after a few moments, and Korra pushed the door open, holding it open for Asami to go inside. Bataar Sr. was hunched over his desk, scribbling something down eagerly, his face made vibrant by his excitement. He looked up for a moment, smiling at both of them, his gaze going back down to his work, his glasses perched dangerously on the tip of his nose.
“Asami,” Bataar smiled, running his finger over the blueprint in front of him, “I didn’t expect you to be by today. Junior is in the workshop.”
“I was looking for him,” Asami nodded, “Do you want me to come by tomorrow and go over your new architecture with you?”
“Please,” Bataar nodded, looking up with a grin, “Junior seems to value your engineering insight. I would consider it an honor.”
“Alright,” Asami smiled, “I’ll meet up with you tomorrow, but I need to go find Junior now. We were going to get some work done.”
Bataar Sr. nodded and waved them off with a smile, and the pair of them walked out of his office, pausing to retrieve an umbrella before walking outside. Asami opened the umbrella and frowned, looking around at the soggy ground as she and Korra walked across the courtyard.
“I’m not a fan of rain right now,” Asami huffed, dodging a deep puddle in the grass.
“It’s ok, sunshine,” Korra grinned at her, “It’ll stop raining eventually. Maybe the grass needed a shower?”
“That’s good for the grass,” Asami laughed, “But if I can’t dodge the next puddle, I’m going to have soggy feet all day.”
Without another word, Korra picked Asami up bridal style, leaving Asami to wrap one arm around Korra’s neck and laugh as she tried to hold onto the umbrella.
“This wasn’t what I meant,” Asami giggled as Korra jogged onto the pathway that led to the workshop.
“Well that’s what you get,” Korra grinned, “Are you complaining?”
“No,” Asami smirked when Korra set her down on the pathway, “Maybe warn me next time?”
“I’ll think about it,” Korra laughed.
“Korra!” Kuvira’s voice reached them from a few yards to their left, and soon Kuvira jogged into sight, still wearing her guard armor, “Leave your girlfriend alone and let’s spar.”
“I’m walking with her to the workshop, Kuvira,” Korra shook her head, “Cool your jets.”
“It’s ok,” Asami laughed, kissing Korra on the cheek, grinning when she saw her blush, “I’ll see you later?”
Korra nodded mutely, grinning despite the color on her cheeks.
“Have fun,” Asami told her, “Don’t hurt Kuvira too bad.”
Kuvira snorted and crossed her arms, grinning as she did so before telling Asami goodbye and dragging Korra in the direction of the courtyard.
A boom of thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance as they got to the courtyard near Su’s house, but Kuvira paid it little mind, tossing a spool of metal cables at Korra without a word. Korra hooked it onto the waist of her jeans and grinned as Kuvira rubbed her hands together and looked around.
“Metal and earth are fair game,” Kuvira told her, “You use anything else and I’ll kick your ass even harder. Anything in the courtyard is fair too, we can fix whatever we break. If Suyin gets mad…”
Her voice trailed off and she shrugged, looking at Korra with a wicked grin.
“Ready, shithead?” Korra smirked, feeling cocky.
“More than you,” Kuvira replied, “Bring it on.”
Suyin sighed and walked over to her office window. Korra and Kuvira had spent the last hour demolishing the courtyard in their attempt at sparring. The noise alone was excruciating, but both women were smiling and laughing, despite the shortness of breath they were experiencing. They were both effectively soaked, the rain still coming down as hard as ever. Suyin watched as Korra removed Kuvira’s guard armor with several quick movements, wrapping the chest piece around Kuvira’s head, blocking her vision long enough for Korra to tackle her.
Kuvira ripped it from her head a second before Korra collided into her, and both women landed roughly on the ground, splashing into one of the deep puddles of water. Su smiled when Kuvira trapped Korra in a headlock, and nearly laughed when Korra retaliated by using a pillar of earth to launch them both into the air. She watched as Kuvira used the cables from her hip to create distance between the pair of them, though it didn’t last long before Korra was in her space again.
Asami had come up a few minutes prior, and was standing in apparent amusement at the ruckus Korra and Kuvira were making. Kuvira was taunting Korra. Suyin couldn’t make out the words between either of them, but whatever was said prompted Korra to rip the earth from under Kuvira’s feet and send her rolling across the courtyard. Korra turned to Asami with a grin, laughing as she did so, and started to say something, but was interrupted by a large crack of lightning overhead. It startled both of them, and Suyin even felt herself jump a little. She composed herself with a laugh and walked out of her office, making her way to the door that led to the courtyard.
When Suyin stepped out onto the covered patio next to Asami, Kuvira had managed to steal Korra’s spool of cables and was using both simultaneously to try and sweep Korra’s feet from under her, a grin plastered on her face.
“I think it’s time to bring it inside, you two,” Su told them, smiling when they both stopped and looked at her, “The lightning was a little close last time.”
“Aww, Mama Su,” Korra pouted, “We were just getting started.”
“It’s been over an hour,” Su laughed, raising one eyebrow.
“Korra wasn’t done showing off,” Kuvira offered, grinning at Korra as she spoke.
“Shut it, Kuvira,” Korra warned with a smirk, “Don’t you know not to fight a waterbender when it’s raining?”
“What’re you going to do?” Kuvira snorted, “Make it snow? Ooh scary.”
Korra looked over at Suyin and Asami with a grin, winking at the latter before straightening her shoulders and taking a deep breath.
“Uh oh,” Su chuckled, crossing her arms, “Kuvira’s going to eat her words.”
Korra drew in another slow breath and with two quick movements of her arms, all the rain around her stopped abruptly, levitating in the air. Rain could still be heard hitting the awning above their heads, but the rain around Korra and Kuvira had been hindered. Asami was clearly impressed by the way her face lit up, and Korra’s grin spread as she pulled the raindrops she had stilled toward her, forming it into a large sphere of water around herself as she watched Kuvira.
“Where’d you learn that?” Kuvira’s eyebrows were raised, and she looked at Korra with genuine interest.
“Master Katara taught me,” Korra smirked, “So do you want ice or snow?”
“Don’t you dare,” Kuvira lowered her eyebrows in a faked glare, pulling a line of cable out as she did so.
Another crack of lightning, one louder than the last stopped them, sending both of them scurrying under the awning where Suyin and Asami were standing.
“You see,” Su told them, “I don’t exactly want either of you getting electrocuted today.”
“You’re the one who made a city out of metal,” Korra objected playfully, “That’s like putting a sign up that says ‘electrocute me please’.”
Su rolled her eyes and smiled as Kuvira and Asami laughed, looking at the mess the two had made in the courtyard.
“You two need to straighten all this out,” Su told them, “You made a ridiculous mess for it to only be two of you.”
“I don’t know,” Korra grinned at her, “You and Lin made a worse mess than we did.”
“Sure, Korra,” Su waved her off and chuckled, “I expect you two to clean this up when it’s not raining.”
“You got it, boss,” Kuvira told her.
“Kuvira,” Su glanced at her, “I want to talk to you in my office, please.”
“Ok,” Kuvira nodded, exchanging a glance with Korra, “I’ll see you guys at dinner?”
“Sounds good,” Korra nodded as Kuvira jogged back into the courtyard to pick up the crumpled remains of her armor, shoving Korra with her shoulder with a smirk when she came back onto the patio.
When Su and Kuvira closed the door behind them, Asami looked at Korra and raised her eyebrow.
“What?” Korra grinned, hair matted to her head from the rain.
“You’re soaking wet, that’s what,” Asami laughed.
“Well I can’t spar and hold an umbrella at the same time,” Korra shrugged, “What happened to working with Bataar?”
“He had to go do something for his dad,” Asami smiled, “I figured watching you and Kuvira would at least be interesting. Turns out I was right. What you did with the rain was impressive.”
“I live to please,” Korra grinned, “Did you see how wide Kuvira’s eyes got?”
“I’m pretty sure I had the same reaction.”
Korra nodded and glanced down at her rain saturated clothes before looking at Asami and raising her eyebrow, a devilish grin on her face.
“Don’t you dare,” Asami warned her, raising her eyebrows.
Korra laughed, stepping forward and wrapping both her arms tightly around Asami. Asami squealed at how cold the water was as she put her hands on Korra’s shoulders to steady herself.
“Korra!” Asami let out a disgruntled huff as Korra held onto her, “The rain is cold.”
“I’m a heater, remember?” Korra grinned, putting her forehead on Asami’s.
“Not right now you’re not,” Asami pouted, “And you got me wet, thanks for that.”
“How will you ever forgive me, sunshine?” Korra raised one eyebrow, leaning closer and kissing her.
Asami grinned as Korra’s lips slid over her own, and she wrapped one arm around Korra’s neck to hold her in place.
“That’s a good place to start,” Asami teased, pulling away momentarily, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Korra smirked at her and Asami kissed her again, tracing her tongue over Korra’s bottom lip. She could taste the salt from the rain on Korra’s lips, and as Korra ran her fingers into Asami’s hair before deepening the kiss, Asami decided she didn’t mind the rain so much after all.
“I’m not telling you again, Kuvira,” Su huffed, crossing her arms, “You’re not going to Republic City.”
“We can’t just sit back and watch as the entire fucking nation crumbles around it.” Kuvira growled, “We’re in a position to help, and we should. If Republic City goes down, the United Republic is going down with it.”
“It would be taken as aggressive,” Su told her, scowling, “I told you that. We can’t pretend we’re a major world power, Kuvira. The Metal Clan is influential enough, but not to traipse into Republic City like we own the place and say we’re there to help.”
“We don’t have to do anything official,” Kuvira crossed her arms, “Send enough guards to protect Opal and Korra. We could stay on Air Temple Island, make it safe.”
“Kuvira, no.”
“Why not?!” Kuvira leapt to her feet, closing the distance between Suyin and herself, “Why won’t you help them?”
“I have helped them. I offered refuge to the Air Nation. We have no need to go to Republic City.”
“Opal and Korra aren’t need enough?” Kuvira was seeing red again, her fists clenched at her sides.
“Two people don’t justify invading a city like a conquering tyrant.” Suyin sighed, “Why can’t you understand this? I’m just as worried about them as you are, Kuvira.”
“It sure fucking seems like I’m the only one that cares,” Kuvira spat back.
Suyin took one step closer, leaving her only inches away from Kuvira. The two women glared at each other, but neither would back down. Kuvira tried to make her eyes soften, desperate to have Suyin understand how she felt, to understand why she needed to help. But Suyin’s jaw was clenched, her mouth a hard line, her eyes piercing and unwavering. Kuvira knew then that she wouldn’t win this one.
“Kuvira. You’re going to realize one day that everything I’m doing now is for the best when it concerns the Metal Clan. You’re going to be in my position one day, and you can’t just run into any conflict you see and try to make it right. Yes I’m worried about Korra and Opal. But they’re both adults, and if staying in the city is the decision they make, I’m going to respect it. I’m not going to try and stop a terrorist organization from burning the city to the ground, because that would endanger too many of the citizens here in Zaofu. We didn’t get to be as prosperous as we are by sticking our nose in everyone’s business.”
“Republic City needs our help,” Kuvira objected, watching as Suyin stepped away from her, opening up the space again, “I’ll go alone if I have to.”
“You will do no such thing.” Suyin growled as she spun to face Kuvira again, her eyes dark, “You’re part of my family, Kuvira. I look out for my family. And part of that includes keeping them from making reckless and foolish decisions!”
“I’m going to resign as guard captain,” Kuvira frowned.
“Why?” Suyin’s eyebrows shot up, “So you can sneak off to Republic City? You’re hung up on Korra and Opal, but what about every single citizen that lives here? Don’t you want to protect them? Zaofu is the safest city in the world for a reason, Kuvira. Your dedication to protect the people here has always been admirable, until now. You’re really willing to throw that away for two people?”
“One of them is your daughter,” Kuvira hissed.
“Opal has made her decision, I told you that. The White Lotus has sworn to protect the avatar. This isn’t your fight.”
“It should be!” Kuvira bellowed, grabbing the chair she had been sitting in and slinging it across the office angrily, “But you won’t let me fucking do anything!”
Suyin opened her mouth to retort, but a tentative knocking at the door stopped her.
“Come in,” Su answered, looking at Kuvira who had gone immediately to straighten the chair she had thrown.
Opal poked her head in the door slowly, looking at them with a soft expression.
“I wanted to see if you knew where Kuvira was,” Opal told Suyin, before motioning at Kuvira with her arm, “But I found her. Is everything ok?”
“Everything is fine,” Suyin smiled faintly, “Kuvira is just a little frustrated. What did you need?”
“I was going to watch a mover with the guys, and I wanted to see if Kuvira wanted to join us, but I couldn’t find her.” Opal shrugged, “I knew she had been with Korra earlier.”
“Why didn’t you ask Korra then?” Su chuckled.
“Korra and Asami were making out on the patio last time I saw them,” Opal laughed, rolling her eyes, “I had a feeling Korra wouldn’t know which way was up and which was down. But then I heard you shouting. Are you sure everything’s ok?”
“It’s fine,” Su repeated, “Kuvira, do you want to go with Opal?”
“Yeah,” Kuvira grunted, “I need to go change first, I’m still soaked.”
“Ok,” Opal nodded, “We’ll be in the living room. See if you can find Korra on your way back?”
“You got it,” Kuvira allowed herself to grin before Opal backed out of the office.
“Kuvira,” Su sighed when the door closed, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“Rethink your decision to resign, please,” Su put her hand on Kuvira’s shoulder, wincing when she shrugged it away, “Be patient.”
“I’m tired of waiting,” Kuvira huffed, “I’m tired of doing nothing. I can’t be patient.”
“Try?” Su’s eyes were sad, “Please? As a favor to me, if anything."
“Fine.” Kuvira growled, picking her armor up and storming out of the office.
|
The Librarian
Chapter 4
Severus awoke with a pounding head, a roiling stomach, and a mouth that tasted like a herd of hippogriffs had wandered through it. Carefully rolling to the edge of the bed, he reached down for his clothes—which he'd removed at some forgotten point during the night—and pulled out a vial of hangover relief potion from one of the pockets. He thanked his lucky stars that he'd thought far enough ahead to grab some from his stores before leaving the dower house. He gulped it down quickly, then lay back for a few minutes waiting for it to take effect.
Twenty minutes later, he was showered, dressed and ready to start the day, the first order of which was to find out what the hell Draco had been talking about last night. Entering the breakfast room, he greeted his hosts, who were both looking a little green around the gills, in a loud voice. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
“Oww...” moaned Draco, clapping his hands over his ears. “Shh... not so loud.”
“Severus, you bastard. You'd better have enough extra to go around,” grumbled Lucius, holding his hand over his eyes.
“Extra? Extra what? Whatever are you talking about, Lucius?” said Severus, sliding his cup over for the house-elf to fill with coffee. “Mmm... coffee.”
“You know damn well what—the hangover relief potion. I know you have some, 'else you wouldn't be so bloody cheerful. Hand it over now, you damned torturer,” demanded Lucius with his hand out.
“What makes you think I brought extra? You need to start stocking your own vital supplies.”
Lucius hand flashed out and grabbed Severus' coffee cup. “No coffee for you until we get our potion,” he growled, but upon seeing Severus' dark look he quickly slid the cup back over toward him. “Oh, fine, take it back, I should know better than to get between you and your morning brew. But have some mercy, man. We're your friends, after all.”
With a chuckle Severus withdrew two vials from his pocket. “Very well, but it will cost you. Draco, I want to know what you were talking about last night. About Hermione at the Ministry? I don't recall hearing of an incident such as you described, surely the Prophet would have had a field day.”
Draco's stretched a palm across the table. “Gimme... gimme,” he begged. “I'll talk. I was there that day, I had a front row seat. I know all. ”
Lucius held his hand out as well. He wouldn't lower himself to begging, but he did offer information. “Shacklebolt put pressure on the Prophet, and I suspect Potter also pulled strings behind the scenes. The official word was that Miss Granger had resigned from her position due to personal choices and the Ministry wished her well in all future endeavors.”
Severus dropped the vials in their hands and watched patiently as the two gulped them down and waited for the potion to work.
After several minutes Draco sat up and pulled his coffee toward him, cupping it protectively between his palms. He nursed it down in small sips for another minute or so, then began his story.
“First let me give you a little background. You remember that I worked at the MLE after the war for a few years?” Severus nodded. “Well, that wasn't by choice. I agreed to work for them in lieu of a good portion of the settlement they were demanding from our estate for war reparations. Seems they rather liked the idea of having a pet Death Eater on staff to parade out for the general public. You know, to show we could be reformed, that they were in control of things.”
“Typical,” muttered Lucius, shaking his head.
“It seems Granger was in the same boat I was, except she was their pet Muggle-born. She was placed high up in her department, second in command, but they never let her actually accomplish anything. She was a token, there to prove that the Ministry had changed their practices on promoting Muggle-borns. The fact that she was part of the trio was just icing on the cake.”
Severus shook his head in denial. “I can't imagine her ever accepting a job like that. She always had such a drive to succeed.”
“I'm sure in the beginning she thought the job offer was genuine,” offered Lucius. “I know the Ministry originally expected to capture the trifecta. They thought they'd have the entire golden trio in their pocket. Imagine their disappointment when Potter and Weasley both went their separate ways. She disappeared for a while, but when she returned about six months later, they pursued her very aggressively for the job.”
Severus picked idly at his breakfast, all the while managing not to eat a bite. “How is it you know these things, Lucius?”
“I may not have the influence I once did, but I still have my connections, even back then,” Lucius replied with a smirk.
“Blaise mentioned once that her absence after the war had something to do with her family,” Draco went on, “but then he clammed up. He and Luna guard Granger and her privacy like the Muggle crown jewels. I do know that she was clearly not the same girl as before. She became withdrawn, she always looked tired like she wasn't sleeping enough, and she was anxious... jumpy, crowds bothered her, loud noises too. She hated those public appearances the Ministry was always forcing us to do.” He paused to pour a fresh cup of coffee while Severus stood up and began pacing, clearly agitated by Draco's tale.
“Just before the end, I remember an incident in the cafeteria. It was just the four of us having a break, no one else was around. Someone in the back dropped a whole tray of dishes. At the crash, Granger panicked. She dropped like a stone beneath the table and tried to pull Lovegood down with her. She kept whispering 'Hide, Luna. They're coming.' Luna and Blaise managed to pull her out of there finally and hurried her back to her office. That was when I realized that she was in trouble.”
Severus paused in his pacing to glare at Draco. “Where the hell were Potter and Weasley during all this? They should have noticed, couldn't they see something was wrong?”
Lucius looked at his friend with concern, then cleared his throat. “They'd moved on by that point. Potter had started playing professional Quidditch, he was traveling all over Europe for exhibition matches and public appearances. Weasley was a partner in his brother's business. They both went on with their lives. I suppose they assumed that she'd done the same.”
“Bloody selfish bastards,” muttered Severus.
“Let's face it, Severus. Even back at Hogwarts, everyone knew she was the caregiver in that relationship,” said Draco. “Never the other way around.”
“Yes, and knowing that, it seems unlikely that she would have asked them for help,” contributed Lucius.
Severus sat back down and glared across the table at Draco. “All right, finish it. What was the incident you spoke of last night?”
Draco took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. His gaze drifted off as if he were picturing that day in his mind. “We were sent to another of the big public events they were so fond of. They called this one Auror Appreciation Day. There was an awards ceremony scheduled, for things like: years of service, bravery in the line of duty, most cases solved, blah, blah, blah, blah... Granger and I and a few others were chosen to present the awards. A stage was set up in the public square and a crowd had gathered. Percy Weasley was Shacklebolt's assistant at the time, so he was there representing his boss. He'd just got up and made a speech, then he introduced Hermione as the first presenter. Someone had come up with the brilliant plan to have a whole squad of Aurors Apparate in, en masse, into the square. A sort of honor guard, if you will, for those receiving awards.”
Draco paused, clearly unsettled by his recollections, and Severus motioned impatiently for him to get on with it.
“I knew something was wrong as soon as we heard the first cracks of Apparition,” continued Draco, his voice rough now. “She stiffened and ducked, then she turned and tackled Weasley to the ground. She was screaming, 'Get down, Ron! Where's Harry—where in hell is Harry?' Before anyone even knew what was happening, she turned her wand on the Aurors and took out half the squad with stunners in the matter of a few seconds.”
“Oh, dear gods,” mumbled Severus, clearly picturing what came next. His hands covered his face, fingertips massaging his forehead as though trying to ward off a headache.
“It was total chaos: the crowd was screaming, running in all directions, the staff on the stage were dumbfounded. When the Aurors started to return fire, Granger crawled behind the podium, dragging Weasley with her. I realized someone had to do something, so I jumped forward and shouted at them to stand down by order of the MLE. Then I grabbed Granger, wrapped my arms around her, turned my back to the Aurors so they couldn't get a clear shot, and prayed. I was little more than a desk jockey at the MLE, so I wasn't too sure if they'd listen to me.”
Lucius stared, horrified, at his son. “Draco, you never told me that part.”
Draco waved off his father's concern. “I gave her a couple of shakes but when that didn't work I slapped her—in all honesty, I have to admit there might have been a bit of pay-back on my part for something that happened in third year. I shouted at her to snap out of it and she finally came back to herself. She looked around, horrified. The next thing I knew she jerked back out of my arms, whispered a heartfelt 'oh, fuck', and Apparated away. That was the last time I saw her for several years. I heard later that she'd immediately resigned and cleared out her office. She walked away from it all. After that she completely disappeared from the wizarding world.”
Severus sat there stunned. He couldn't believe he'd never heard any of this before. With that many witnesses, surely there must have been rumors. Still, if the Ministry had pressured the media, they could have hushed it up, and after a time the rumors would have faded.
He was furious for what had happened to her. Had no one realized that she needed help? The Ministry didn't care, they just used people. He wanted to tear something apart. Unfortunately, at that very moment, the easiest target was the messenger, who just happened to be directly in his line of sight. “Did you laugh about it then, Draco?”
Draco looked up, stunned. His eyes grew round and his pale complexion paled even further. “What?”
“Did it make you happy to see your old rival brought so low?” Severus continued on, his voice gruff.
“Of course not...”
Severus gave him no chance to explain. “She was finally run out of the wizarding world. Wasn't that what you'd always wanted? Did you rush off then, to tell all your little friends about the public spectacle?”
Draco's jaw tightened and his shoulders squared as he stood from the breakfast table. Looking down at his godfather he replied coldly, “No, I did not, Severus—I didn't do any of those things. You see, the fact of the matter is, I rather understood how Hermione felt. The nightmares, the guilt, the anxiety, constantly seeing things from the past that you wished with all your heart you could forget. Things you wished you'd never seen in the first place. Wondering if your life would ever be normal again. Even now, wondering how someone you trusted and respected could think so little of you.” Draco's chair screeched as he shoved it back from the table and stalked out of the room.
“He did not deserve that, Severus,” Lucius' voice was low, rough and tinged with anger.
Severus slumped in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Christ! Don't you think I know that? I'm such an idiot sometimes. I always let my temper and my mouth hurt the people I care about most.” Severus stood to go after his godson. “I must go apologize.”
Lucius' hand closed over his arm. “Give him a chance to cool down. He'll listen then. I know Draco, he will forgive you, but he'll need some time.” As Severus sank back into his chair, Lucius added, “You do realize what might have happened to her had he not intervened that day.”
“Yes, and the very thought terrifies me,” answered Severus. “I almost wish I hadn't learned about it all. Yet everything makes more sense now.” He rose and wandered over to the window to gaze unseeingly into Lucius' rose garden. “She told me she no longer uses her own name in the wizarding world, that's why she goes by the Librarian. She said that she'd rather be known for her professional reputation than her role as Potter's best friend. She said that that was a completely different life, and this is her life now.”
Lucius came to stand beside him, his hand squeezing his friend's shoulder. Leaning in he said softly, “And lucky for you, isn't it, my friend? For if she weren't known by her reputation as the Librarian, you might never have found her.”
~*~
Before returning to the dower house, Severus made his way to Draco's room to apologize to his godson. His knock was immediately answered with a brusque, “Come in.”
Severus pushed the door open. “Draco, I've come to apolo...”
“It's alright, Severus, you're forgiven,” Draco looked up from where he was sprawled across his bed, several Quidditch magazines scattered around him.
“But I treated you abominably. You can't just forgive me without even giving me a chance to explain,” objected Severus. He felt the need to make amends somehow.
Draco hauled himself upright, pushing some pillows behind him as he leaned back against the headboard. “But I already have. So there. I've heard that Muggle saying about not killing the messenger. I realize I was the messenger in this scenario—but you weren't angry at me, not really. You were angry about what happened to Granger. You couldn't get to what had hurt her, so you lashed out at me.”
Severus inclined his head, acknowledging the accuracy of Draco's analysis. “It was most unfair of me, Draco. I know that. Hell, I think I knew it even as I was doing it. If you won't let me apologize properly, I offer you the opportunity to retaliate. Go ahead and hex me.” Severus clenched his teeth and closed his eyes. This was going to hurt. Draco knew his way around quite a few inventive hexes.
Draco snorted. “I'm not going to hex you.”
Severus almost felt disappointed. “Would you rather hit me?”
Draco shook his head. “No hitting, either. I'll tell you what I will do, though. Your words did hurt me, so my pay-back is going to be in the form of words. Although I'm hoping you won't actually find them hurtful. Your penance is this: you must listen to and consider what I'm going to say right now, whether you believe it's the truth or not.”
Severus rolled his eyes a bit, but nodded in agreement.
“Clearly you lashed out at me because you were upset by hearing what happened to Granger back then. The reason you were upset is because you care about her. I think you have real feelings for her and you don't want to admit it to yourself. But I was completely serious when I said you two would be good together. She deserves to have something good in her life, someone who cares about her, and honestly so do you. You have a chance at something special here, Severus. You really need to give this some serious consideration.” Draco looked up at him with a grin and waved his hand, shooing him off. “There, I'm done now, my son. Words of wisdom have been spoken. You're forgiven and you're free to go.”
Severus shook his head and reached down to ruffle Draco's hair as he'd done when he was a little boy. On his way out of the room he paused in the doorway and looked back. “When did you get to be so wise, Draco?”
“It happened when you weren't looking, godfather.”
~*~
Hermione was distracted after returning from her visit to Luna. Severus seemed very pleased to see her, she thought, repeating more than once that the house had been very quiet without her. He even admitted outright that he'd missed her companionship. She smiled shyly at that, and had to hold her hand over her heart to contain the warm fuzzy feeling that rose in her chest.
In spite of this, she remained quiet during dinner, making sporadic idle conversation, but unable to keep her mind from wandering elsewhere. When they were settled for the evening in the parlor, Severus confronted her.
“Hermione, is something wrong? I could tell you were distracted all through dinner. You seemed a hundred miles away. Did your girls' night not go as you'd hoped? Did something happen while you were gone?”
“I'm sorry, Severus. No, girls' night was fine. Sometimes we go out somewhere, but more often we just stay in and take turns making dinner. This was Luna's turn and she cooked.”
At the thought of Luna cooking, Severus made a face, as if he were smelling something bad. “Were the results... unsatisfactory?”
Hermione couldn't help but smile at his expression. “No, it was fine. Excellent really. She made a lovely roast with onions, carrots, and potatoes. Luna's actually a very good cook. The thing is you never know what you're going to get when you go there. Depending on her whims, you may get a multi course gourmet meal, or you may get dirigible plum jam on a stack of crackers,” said Hermione with a laugh. “She had a surprise planned, too. Yesterday we took a day trip out to the Orkneys, to the Mainland, the largest island. We took the Muggle ferry over and spent the morning exploring Kirkwall.”
“Kirkwall. I've never been there myself,” said Severus. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes, we had a fun morning and ate lunch in a charming little cafe. We spent the afternoon exploring some of the old places on Mainland: Skara Brae, an ancient stone settlement, the Ring of Brodgar and the Standing Stones of Stenness, both stone circles, Maeshowe a neolithic chambered cairn. It was strangest thing, but I swear I got a sense of something lingering in all of those places, like there was old magic there.”
“It's quite possible there is,” replied Severus.
“I almost moved there instead of Thurso.” She went on thoughtfully. “I wanted to get out of Inverness and something about the Mainland seemed to call to me. Kirkwall was large enough to support a bookstore, and the location offered the isolation from the rest of the world that I felt I needed at the time. I'd never really discussed any of this with Luna, but yesterday she told me that when she'd started planning this special day for us together, something about the place just called to her. And once we were there... I don't know... I just felt as if something had drawn us there. She felt it too.
“Don't you find that a bit odd?” she added, turning to Severus. “I mean that Luna and I would both feel such a strong connection to the place?”
Severus shrugged. “I suppose it could be coincidence. However, in my opinion, true coincidence is very rare. I believe more often than not, things happen for a reason.”
“Hmm...” Hermione pondered. “You know, I'm beginning to think the same thing myself.”
In the next instant she was off again, her thoughts going a hundred miles an hour in four different directions.
Severus observed her, recognizing that look. He'd worn it many times himself, whenever he was seeking a solution to a problem and felt as though it was right there in front of him, yet it remained just out of reach. He watched her for several minutes before he leaned in and patted her knee. “Hermione?”
With a small jerk, her head snapped up and she saw him looking at her. “Oh, Severus. I was ignoring you, I'm so sorry.”
“Hermione, something is clearly troubling you. Won't you tell me what it is? I've found that when I'm seeking answers, it oft times helps to get a second opinion. I'm more than willing to listen if you want to bounce ideas off me.”
She hesitated. “I'm not sure that would help, and I don't want to be a bother to you.”
Severus spread his hands and looked around the quiet room. “Do I look busy? You aren't pulling me away from anything, I'm free and I'm offering. How is that a bother?”
At her doubtful look, he moved to sit next to her, his left arm resting casually on the back of the sofa as he placed his right hand gently over hers. “Hermione, I'd like to help. It's obvious that something is wrong. I don't like seeing you distressed, it makes me feel...” Severus paused as if uncertain how to finish his thought. “...something,” he finished lamely.
Hermione's heart clenched again. She'd admitted to herself weeks ago that Luna was right in her crazy observations. Hermione did like like Severus, as Luna had put it, but she'd been fighting her feelings because she thought them to be one-sided. His actions and words since she'd returned today suggested otherwise. But she knew he was not the type of man to show his feelings easily, and if she rejected this offer now he would likely pull back and distance himself. That was the very last thing she wanted.
Hermione turned her hand in his, intertwining their fingers, and clasped it gently. She looked up at him and said, “Severus, thank you. You're quite right, there's something I've been working on and I haven't been able to figure it out. I'd be happy to have your help.”
He quickly glanced down at their entwined hands, but didn't pull away. If anything, he might have slid just the tiniest bit closer to her. “Tell me. Perhaps we can figure it out together.”
“I want to help Luna. The Ministry simply washed their hands of her, while the Healers at St. Mungo's seemed to have no idea at all how to treat her. They say her core magic is still there, but she simply can't access it. It's almost like something is blocking it. I have this idea...” Hermione started nibbling at her lower lip as her eyes lost their focus.
“And she's off again.” Severus murmured with a chuckle. He gave her a nudge. “I know how hard it is when you're problem-solving to stay in the now, your mind shoots off faster than a Muggle race car. But stay with me now and tell me your idea.”
Hermione blushed and gave him a little smile. “Sorry. You're exactly right. I start thinking of something, then my brain jumps to something else, and before you know it I'm a million miles away.” She took a deep breath.
“Remember a while back, I mentioned I was reviewing some research I'd done a few years ago?” At his nod, she continued. “It was for something I'd dabbled in after the war. And lately, I've been wondering if it could maybe be adapted to help Luna.”
“What is it you were working on back then?”
“Well, I was actually trying to find some help for myself for certain... issues I was having at the time.”
“Issues? Such as...?”
Hermione hesitated, reluctant to talk about that part of her past. “Nightmares, guilt, anxiety, panic attacks... things I couldn't seem to control. I got the idea to make magical artifacts, amulets, to try to relieve some of the pressure. You know, something to calm me, or protect me. The ones I made for myself never seemed to work very well. I did make some for other people that seemed to work, though.”
Severus frowned. “Why didn't they work for you? Did you ever figure it out.”
“Yes, I do have a theory.” Hermione pulled away and, getting up from the sofa, paced around the room nervously. “They didn't work because my issues were symptoms of something deeper, they weren't the actual problem. I'm sure you didn't keep track of former students after the war, but I worked at the Ministry for a while. That was a huge mistake on my part. Anyway, eventually I left after a horribly public display...”
“Hermione, you needn't go into detail about that. You're right that I didn't keep track of former students so I didn't hear about it back then. However, I was at the manor while you were gone and Draco...”
“Draco told you, then?” For some reason she felt a sense of relief. “It's alright, at least you got an accurate account. He was there, and thank gods for that. If he hadn't stepped up...” She shuddered, remembering. “You know, I later realized that Draco understood me. I think he was dealing with the many of the same issues I was.” She glanced at him. “So you're aware that I left the wizdarding world entirely for some time after that?”
Severus nodded in acknowledgment.
She gave a rueful grimace. “Harry and Ron were furious with me at the time. They thought I should go to St. Mungo's. I disagreed with them, so I refused. For all the wonders of magic, it seems to me the wizarding world puts forth very little effort in matters dealing with mental health or treating people’s psyches. I chose to seek treatment in the Muggle world and was diagnosed with what they call Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”
“PTSD, I've read about it,” commented Severus.
Hermione's eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“Oh, not in any magical journals, to be sure. You're quite right in that respect. It was in a Muggle medical journal I was reading for research. I think you'll find that half-bloods as well as Muggle-borns are more willing to make use of information from the Muggle world.”
Hermione nodded. “So you see, the amulets didn't work for me because I was trying to treat the individual symptoms—the nightmares, the flashbacks, the guilt—rather than the underlying source of my trouble.”
“Which was?” Severus asked gently.
“Which was that mentally, I was just seriously fucked up,” she admitted bluntly with a sad smile.
“But as I said, the ones I made for other people did seem to help them. For example Ron had gone to work for George at WWW. For all his bluster, he actually didn't have a very good self-image. He never felt as if he could live up to his older brothers, or to Harry. The amulet I gave him seemed to help build his self-confidence.”
Severus nodded. “Yes, I saw that often in students at Hogwarts. In the staff room we used to call it younger brother syndrome.”
“Ron's amulet worked so well that he asked me to make something for George. His grief over losing Fred was so bad that Ron feared he might do something drastic. Of course nothing could ever take his grief away, but I made an amulet for him designed to attract positive energy and feelings of peace. He felt better wearing it, and it seemed to help him.”
“Interesting,” Severus murmured. “Clever of you to approach it that way.”
“I made a few others. When I left the wizarding world, though, I simply stopped working on the project.”
Hermione stopped in front of the fireplace, her arms wrapped around herself, and stared unseeing into the low embers glowing there. She heard Severus get up and walk across the room towards her. He came so close to her that she could feel him behind her.
His earlier contact seemed to have made him braver: he now rested a hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture and leaned close to speak softly to her. “And you're considering now that creating something of the sort for Miss Lovegood could help her regain access to her magic?”
Taking advantage of his nearness, and feeling bolder herself, Hermione leaned back into him slightly, relishing his warmth. Encouraged when he didn't pull away, she turned slightly to look up at him over her shoulder. “Yes. Does that seem presumptuous of me? To think I might be able to help her when the Healers could not?”
“No, it doesn't. You pointed out yourself that they aren't infallible, they can't fix everything. Maybe what your friend needs is exactly this, for someone to think outside the box. Come,” he said, taking her hand to lead her back to the sofa. “I know very little about the practice of creating such artifacts, tell me what it entails.”
“They're created using things found in nature which are known to have certain qualities. Much like a wand maker chooses certain woods and core materials based on specific qualities, so do amulet makers seek particular things,” she explained. “When I created Ron's amulet, I used a white agate as the primary component, because agate's known qualities include calming, building self-confidence, improving concentration, perception, and analytical abilities, among others.” Severus nodded following her reasoning. “For George's, however, I used a blue-green jade because it's known to encourage peace, reflection, inner serenity and patience, and can help those who feel overwhelmed by situations beyond their control.”
“Do you ever combine items?”
“Oh yes. Think about a Native American shaman's medicine bag, which often contains a number of magical items of personal significance. The amulet maker could also incorporate specific charms and spells to reinforce the qualities they wished to imbue the amulet with.” She went of to offer other examples, including some of her own innovations, pleased by his interest.
Severus listened carefully to everything she told him, taking in all the information. Soon he got up and began to pace back and forth: she could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he processed all the information. He tapped his forefinger against his lips, then paced some more, then ran his fingers through his hair, then paced some more. Finally, he set his hands on his hips and stared at the wall in silence.
“Severus?” she said softly after some time had passed.
Severus started and turned suddenly as though surprised to see her watching him. He looked chagrined as he rubbed the back of neck. “I'm doing the exact same thing I accused you of earlier, aren't I? I was completely lost in thought.”
Hermione smiled warmly at him. “Yes, I didn't want to interrupt. So what do you think?”
“Have you considered using potions?” he asked, summoning an ottoman over to the sofa and sitting down before her.
“You think you could invent a potion to help Luna?”
“No, not on it's own. What I meant was, what about using potions in conjunction with one of your amulets? Using potions to strengthen particular components, such as infusing a strengthening potion, or a calming potion, or a healing potion, or whatever, into the amulet itself to enhance the desired effect.”
Hermione's eyes opened wide in surprise. “I hadn't even considered that idea. Severus, you're brilliant!” She leaned forward, throwing her arms around his neck to give him a big hug.
He lightly hugged her back, his face taking on a faint blush, then put his hands on her shoulders to push her gently back. “Don't get too excited,” he cautioned. “It's just an idea, we don't know if it will work in practice. I had another thought, as well. You might want to consult with Mr Longbottom.”
“Neville? But he's an herbologist, I don't...” Her frown turned into a smile as it dawned on her. “Of course! Why didn't I think of that? If we did something like the shaman's medicine bag, Neville might be able to give us suggestions for magical herbs or plant extracts to put inside. Things that, like the potions, would enhance or balance the amulet.”
“Yes. Perhaps he could even suggest certain plant fibers to use for braiding for the cord, or for weaving to make a pouch or bag,” added Severus.
“Oh sweet Merlin, so many possibilities I'd never even considered,” Hermione said, excitement flooding through her. “Severus, thank you so much.”
He looked at her, reaching to brush a strand of hair back out of her face. “I meant what I just said, though. They are just ideas. There is no guarantee that they will come to anything. How do you envision utilizing this amulet if we are able create it?”
“Well, I know a little about the spell she was working on at the time she was injured. It was a project for the MLE, a way to enable Aurors to handle a violent criminal without injury to themselves or others. She was attempting to create a spell that would temporarily suppress someone's magic just for a matter of seconds, certainly not permanently. But something went wrong, the spell mutated or something. She lost control of it and it came back at her.
“Creating new spells is a risky business,” Severus commented. “Miss Lovegood is not the first person to inflict damage on herself.”
“Well, the spell obviously didn't remove her magic. We know that, according to what the Healers said. So I'm thinking maybe it created a barrier around the magical core, a blockage of some sort. We don't know how to remove that blockage or whether that's even advisable. Removing it might be dangerous; it might destroy her magic entirely or even kill her. But what if we could create something that could get between it and her core magic? In essence, block the blockage?”
Severus, considered for a moment. “If I'm understanding you correctly, what you are suggesting is creating an amulet that would serve a dual purpose. On the one hand it would block certain elements of the original spell that are suppressing her magic, while on the other hand simultaneously stimulate and strengthen Miss Lovegood's ability to access her magic.”
“Yes!” she exclaimed excitedly. “You've nailed it. That's exactly what I want to do. Do you think it's possible?” She held her breath as he hesitated for a moment.
“I don't know if it will work, but it's damn well worth a try.”
~*~
Hermione was surprised the next morning at breakfast when Severus inquired whether she was planning to start work immediately on designing the amulet.
“I will continue to research in my spare time, of course, but you hired me to do a job, Severus. I won't neglect that, I promise.”
“I wasn't implying that you would. But I do know how important this project is to you—how important Miss Lovegood is to you—and I would fully understand and support you if you'd like to devote more of your time to it.” He glanced up at her from under his lashes as he fussed nervously with his juice glass, rotating it in precise quarter turns between his thumb and fingers. “In fact, I was thinking...” He hesitated, as if unsure of himself. “...I was thinking that I could put off taking on any new potions research and we could work on this project together.”
Hermione jerked her head up in surprise to find him now strangely fascinated by the full English breakfast before him. She sensed a kind of edgy tension about him and thought he looked unrested, as though he'd slept very little, if at all. “Severus, I don't know what to say. That's so very kind of you, so generous of you to offer your time and expertise and...”
“Stop!” he barked, his expression almost angry at first. He rubbed his eyes and then pinched the bridge of his nose. She remained silent, a little frightened, unsure what was happening.
Finally he dropped his hand limply to the table and looked directly into her eyes. “I don't know how to do this, Hermione. Someone recently informed me that I have a chance to have something good in my life and that I need to give it serious consideration. I spent all of last night doing precisely that. Tossing and turning, listing different variables in my mind, thinking of possible scenarios, assessing probable outcomes. I reached no sane conclusions.”
Hermione leaned toward him, reaching across the corner of the table to rest her hand next to his, not touching except for one fingertip against the side of his little finger. “Severus, I don't understand. What's wrong? What's going on?” she asked softly, her voice full of concern.
His gaze dropped to their two hands. “I want things, and I don't know how to get them. I'm not even sure that I should have them. Hermione, I don't know how to do this. I'm not kind or generous or romantic...”
She felt her chest go tight and she wasn't sure she could keep breathing.
“In fact I'm a mean, selfish, cold bastard. I'm damn near fifty and I've led a hard life, but lately... lately, I've been thinking about the things I'd like to have. And about how quickly things can change—a rogue spell, a fatal illness, an opportunity missed, and all is lost. I'd like nothing better than to spend my days working with you on projects like this, doing research together, working side by side in the lab or the library, taking our meals here, spending our evenings in the parlor, our nights...”
Hermione moved her hand fully into his, clasping it tightly as he continued. “I know I should go slowly, should probably take more time. I know there are certain rituals of courtship and the like that women expect, but I know nothing of those things.”
She couldn't believe this was happening. He must have stayed awake all night worrying through all these thoughts and—typical Severus—he'd decided to just cut to the chase.
“Gods, I really don't know how to do this,” he said looking away. “Our beginnings were so unconventional. You were my student for Chrissakes. You were only eleven years old when I first laid eyes on you. What am I thinking?”
Hermione scooted closer. One hand still clasped in his, she reached across with the other and softly caressed his cheek. She tipped his face towards her, her thumb dropped to trace his lips. His eyes were locked on her face as she spoke. “But I'm not that little girl anymore, Severus. I'm a woman, fully grown, who knows exactly what she wants. The idea of spending weeks and months on end gradually getting closer, of holding hands and walks in the park, of flowers and candy and silly little gifts, that all seems like a waste of time to me.”
Hermione got up from her chair and, moving slowly, came around the end of the table, approaching him with as much caution as she would a wild beast. She muttered under her breath, “Dear goddess, I hope to hell I've not misread this.” She wedged herself between him and the table, her arse practically in his plate so she awkwardly reached behind her to shove it back. “You may think you don't know how to do this, Severus, but it seems to me that you're doing just fine.”
Leaning forward she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him toward her. “I do know what I want. I want everything you just described. Most of all, I want you.” Her lips touched his tentatively, fearing she'd imagined his meaning and that he would push her away.
His reaction was just the opposite. With a lurch, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her roughly across his lap and clutching her tightly to him. A deep groan escaped from his throat as the fingers of one hand threaded through her hair, holding her in place, just so. His kisses were soft at first, then more firm, the tip of his tongue traced over her lips before barely slipping inside. When she responded readily, teasing her tongue against his, he gave way and devoured her mouth. Finally, he pulled back to drop tiny kisses at the corners of her mouth, then to nuzzle at her neck.
When Severus' mouth hit a certain spot on her neck, a shot of lust so strong flashed through her she thought she would go up in flames. She arched against him, trying to pull him even closer to her. Dear goddess, she hadn't felt like this in so long, and never with this sort of intensity. The little unintentional whimpers escaping her throat seemed to insight him to take further action. Their kissing resumed and his hand was sliding up her leg, under her robes, up her thigh—when a sharp gasp sounded from the doorway to the dining room.
They both froze in place. Hermione looked up, to see Mac Fletcher standing in the doorway. Self-consciously she jumped up to stand stiffly next to Severus' chair. Before she could move farther away, his hand flashed out to grab her wrist, keeping her close.
“Oh, um... sorry to interrupt. Err... I mean...” Mac stood there, an embarrassed flush covering his face, his eyes now glued to the floor. “Just stopped in to let you know our plans for today's work.”
“Your work has been exemplary thus far,” said Severus, his words so short and sharp that it sounded to Hermione as if his jaw was clenched tightly. “You're now in charge. If there are any questions, you decide. And unless the fucking house is on fire, I don't want to be disturbed.”
He stood up and turned to Hermione, tugging her along with him. “You. Come with me.”
She smiled but said nothing, following him willingly if somewhat hesitantly. Severus paused briefly beside Mac to say, “We will be busy all morning. I don't want any further interruptions.” He started to walk away, but after a couple of steps he paused, reconsidered, and added, “Better make that for the rest of the day.”
Severus strode down the hall toward the stairs, towing Hermione in his wake. He was halfway up the stairs to the landing when he stopped and swung her up into his arms. He whispered in her ear, “Remind later me to thank Draco for his wise advice.” He kissed her briefly, and proceeded the rest of the way up the stairs. His footsteps echoed down the hallway to his destination.
Hermione glanced over his shoulder to see Mac standing at the bottom of the stairway with his mouth hanging open. “Blimey,” she heard him mutter to no one in particular. “I did not see that one coming.”
Then the bedroom door slammed loudly and locked with a resounding click behind them.
TBC |
A traveler’s sleeves flutter in the autumn wind; How lonely is the evening sun, a brief bridge between the mountains.
-Teika
The warm scent of broth and beer filled Keishin’s senses as he stepped through the door of the restaurant. The smell was pleasant, as was the way Takeda brushed his hand against Keishin’s as they walked in.
Still, his stomach churned with nerves.
It was his first time meeting Takeda’s friends, and his first time meeting anyone as Takeda’s boyfriend. He desperately wanted to make a good impression.
Takeda perked up and waved to the two women meeting them there.
Keishin vaguely recognized Hisakawa. She still wore her hair in a chin-length bob, and was dressed in a plain button-up shirt and slacks. Her smile seemed different, warm and bright as she waved them over.
“Take-sensei, good to see you!” She eyed Keishin, recognition and amusement flickering across her face. “It’s nice to see you as well, Ukai-kun.”
Of course she remembered the first time they’d met, when Keishin had been too furious with his parents for setting up a surprise marriage interview to bother making conversation. She seemed more relaxed now, happier to meet on a double date with their respective partners. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh, good to see you too.”
The woman next to her stepped forward. Her hair was in loose, carefully shaped waves that complimented the lines of her blouse and straight skirt. Even in heels she was only as tall as her partner, but her proud demeanor made her seem like an Olympian.
Hisakawa beamed. “This is Kuroki. Kuroki, this is my coworker Takeda and his friend and fellow coach Ukai.”
“A pleasure to meet you both.” Kuroki looked at Takeda and a small smile spread across her perfectly painted lips. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Takeda-sensei. I am glad Hisakawa-san has such a reliable coworker.”
“I can only try to match what she does for the school-!” Takeda bowed, flustered and startled at the praise. “Ah, let’s sit. I’m sure you two must be starving. I hope we weren’t too late!”
“Not at all! I’m excited you invited us out.” Hisakawa said. “I love ramen, but I’ve never been here before. It’s good to get Kuroki out of the city once in a while, too.” She winked at her partner.
“There’s more to do in Sendai,” Kuroki said quietly. She glanced around the bar, as if uncertain of her surroundings.
Hisakawa and Takeda led the group to a table, catching up on work gossip along the way. Now that Keishin saw them together, he realized Hisakawa stood a few centimeters taller than Takeda. They both seemed at ease, and it was good to see him with friends of his own.
A safety net.
As soon as they sat down, Hisakawa turned her attention to Keishin. “So, you’re the man everyone’s been talking about lately.”
Keishin stared at her, apprehension rising in his chest. “Uh…”
She raised her eyebrows. “You got Karasuno back to Nationals! You turned our vice principal into a volleyball fan! That’s quite a feat. He’s not much for sports.”
“If you want to thank the man responsible for gettin’ us to Nationals, then he’s sitting right next to me,” Keishin said.
Takeda opened his mouth to protest right as their server came to the table.
“Well if it isn’t the guys who’ve gotten my brother to Tokyo!” Tanaka grinned.
Keishin almost hadn’t recognized Tanaka in her work uniform. Her piercings were removed, her hair was tied back with a bandana, and an apron covered her long-sleeved shirt and jeans. She let out a surprised shout when she saw Hisakawa and Kuroki. “Woah! Kuroki-san and Hisa-san! Didn’t think I’d ever see you two in here!”
Kuroki’s eyes went wide. “Saeko-chan?”
“It’s been too long!” Hisakawa said. “I didn’t know you worked here. Will you be at the book discussion next week?”
“Nah, not my bag. But next time folks are meeting to do something fun I’ll see you there.” Tanaka winked at her. “For now, what can I get ya? We’ve got a few specials if you’d like to support my brother’s team!”
“Oh, your brother is on the volleyball team?” Kuroki asked.
“Sure is!” Tanaka beamed. “He’s the handsome ace!”
Another customer snorted from across the room. “More like a hoodlum!” he shouted.
“Handsome ace, I told ya already!” Tanaka shot back. “Don’t mind him,” she leaned in closer to them and whispered “He’s an asshole.”
They ordered some beer and four of the ‘Nice Kill!’ ramen specials. Tanaka went back to work, handling the pushier customers with apparently effortless grace. Kuroki seemed more relaxed after having seen her, some of the stiffness easing from her shoulders. She settled into her seat and turned her attention back to them.
“Kuroki-san, I understand you work as an engineer? I bet that’s really satisfying work!” Takeda said.
Kuroki hummed in an affirmative. “My team manages traffic flow in the west sector of the city,” she explained. “I spend most of my time running calculations and analyzing data.”
Hisakawa nudged her shoulder. “Don’t be modest, you help keep things smooth so people can get to work on time and ambulances can get patients to the hospital!”
Kuroki smiled. “It was a simple statement of fact. The rest could be inferred.”
“Mmmhm. Modest.” Hisakawa shook her head. “So, Ukai-kun, what do you do these days, when you’re not coaching with Take-sensei?”
Nerves edged in Keishin’s stomach again. “Ah, not much, to be honest. I still work at my folks’ store, and help out with the farm when I can. I play on the Neighborhood Association team, but we’re nothin’ to write home about.”
Hisakawa smiled, no trace of judgement in her face. “Work, play, and helping others? Sounds like a good life to me.”
She meant it.
Keishin paused, unsure of what to say. He usually kept his conversations with women polite but stunted, careful to avoid the impression he was flirting. With that possibility taken off the table, he realized he could speak freely.
“It is.” He brightened. “I understand you do a lot t’ help others too, especially some of our students. Thank you for that.”
Hisakawa smiled warmly, then raised her glass for everyone to cheer.
The conversation flowed smoothly as the night went on, everyone swapping stories from work and little details of their own lives. The “Nice Kill!” ramen bowls turned out to be pretty good, and everything just felt… normal. The fact that everyone at their table was queer wasn’t a thing at all, they were all just people out to eat dinner. Keishin wondered how many queer folks he might’ve met in the past and not even realized it.
He shook his head. Of course it wasn’t different. He was a fool.
Takeda’s knee pressed against his own under the table. “Doing alright?”
“Yeah. Just… laughing at myself for being nervous earlier.”
“You were nervous too, huh?” Kuroki asked. She was more talkative now, the ice long broken and her second glass of beer mostly empty.
“I told you there was no need to be,” Hisakawa said. She turned back to Keishin and Takeda. “She thinks that just because we spend all day with kids, we’ll think her day-to-day is boring.”
“You’re teaching future generations,” Kuroki said. “I have a lot of respect for that, especially because I’m not well suited for that particular task. I just try to make things better in my own way.”
“And you do,” Hisakawa replied.
Kuroki smiled again and turned her head slightly.
“I think you can make any job sound boring or exciting depending on how you frame it,” Takeda said. “For example, you could say that Hisakawa and I spend a bit too much time having to argue for our students at staff meetings.”
Hisakawa’s bubbly demeanor flickered. “Those meetings sure are something,” she said.
“That’s because your boss is a stuffy, homophobic jerk who’s more worried about his reputation than his students,” Kuroki said, quiet but matter-of-fact.
“Kuroki, shhh!” Hisakawa nudged her. “That’s the principal you’re talking about, and we’re not that far away from the school,” she whispered.
“You can’t be the first people to complain, but alright,” Kuroki said. “I just still can’t forgive him for the way he treats you and your students.”
“Nobody gets angrier about it than me.”
“I know, I’ve heard you rant about it in the shower,” Kuroki said dryly.
“You can hear me in there??”
“Sometimes.” Kuroki’s demeanor softened. “It’s never too bad. But you’re right, I shouldn’t speak too loudly about it. I don’t want you to have to deal with what Saito’s been through.”
“Thrown into the local gossip mill for breaking up with a man and then getting food poisoning. That’s hardly her fault,” Hisakawa huffed. “At least things have settled down now.”
“Good to hear,” Keishin said. “Everyone loves to exaggerate a little when they tell a story, and next thing you know it gets out of hand. Nobody means any harm, but that doesn’t really make it better.”
“And it makes sense that everyone would be obsessed with the idea of a new pregnancy out here, given the population decline,” Kuroki allowed. “Still, I’m happy to stay where I am.”
“And I’m happy to visit you,” Hisakawa said. “Thank you for coming out tonight.”
“It’s been fun. I’m glad I got to meet you both,” she said, nodding to Keishin and Takeda.
“It’s been a pleasure,” Keishin agreed.
“It really has. Maybe next time we can meet somewhere closer to you, Kuroki-san? Share the commute,” Takeda suggested.
“That would be easier for me, yes. Maybe we could alternate? We’ll certainly have to come here again sometime. I don’t think Saeko-chan would forgive us if we didn’t.”
“You’re damn right I wouldn’t!” Tanaka appeared with the bill.
“Believe me, she won’t!” the customer in the back shouted again.
Tanaka acted as if he wasn’t even there and flashed a smile. “How was the meal?”
“Delicious. Here, I’ll take that.” Keishin reached for the bill.
“Oh no, I have some cash,” Kuroki reached for her purse.
“Nah, let the guy that made you come all the way out here get it this time. Someone else can get the next one.” It was the least Keishin could do. The evening had been good, and he felt lighter than he had in a while.
“Thank you, Ukai-kun. Our treat next time,” said Hisakawa.
Tanaka took the bill and the cash from Keishin. “Glad to see everyone’s becoming friends. Thanks for supporting the team! Stop in again soon!”
“Of course,” Hisakawa said.
They all stood up, stretched, and headed out the door. Takeda and Keishin held back near the entrance of the restaurant so Keishin could have a smoke, while Hisakawa accompanied Kuroki down the street to the train station. Keishin watched them go, warmth in his chest despite the late November night.
In his weaker moments, he’d wondered if Takeda would be happier dating Hisakawa. Now, having seen the dynamic and supportive relationship she shared with Kuroki, he couldn’t imagine her with anyone else. Everything was as it should be, simple as that. He wondered if anyone would ever feel the same way about him and Takeda as a couple.
“Did you have fun?” Takeda asked.
“I did, yeah. They seem like good people,” he said. “Thanks for making it happen.”
“It was good for me too,” Takeda said. He stretched, relaxed and happy.
Another group of customers left the restaurant. One of them was the guy that had been harassing Tanaka all evening. The group talked and bickered amongst themselves, too indistinct to really pick out. Until one exchange, ringing clear through the chilly air.
“Maybe you’d be more popular if you got with the fashions these days. How about a v-neck?” one of the men joked as he nudged the guy who’d been rude in the restaurant.
“What, you think I want people thinkin’ I’m some kinda fag?” he scoffed.
Keishin froze.
His friend laughed and teased again, “Better than them knowin’ you’re an asshole!”
“I’m not so sure,” the man grumbled.
The group stumbled their way down the hill and out of sight. Keishin felt numb, his mind putting an automatic override to contain the old, angry fire that smoldered in his gut. He glanced at Takeda.
Takeda’s face was tight, his expression frozen in a parody of the ease he’d displayed earlier.
Keishin sighed, exhaling the smoke he’d been holding in his lungs. “Well, that was bullshit,” he said.
“Yeah.” Takeda shook himself and let out a nervous laugh. His expression was still strained at the edges. “Shall we go?”
Keishin snuffed out his cigarette and they walked, purposefully taking a longer route to avoid the crowd ahead. Keishin shoved his hands in his pockets and suppressed a shiver at the chilly air and cold dread that was creeping up his throat at the reminder of how some folks thought.
Breathe, he thought. Pretend it was just a setback on the court.
Let yourself feel it.
Resist the urge to make other people’s bullshit your own.
Remember who you’re with.
He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Takeda shook his head. “It’s. Well, I’ll be fine. I’m just… not used to hearing stuff like that yet.”
They kept walking at a casual pace. The moon was high and full above them, spilling cool light to mix with the yellow of the streetlamps.
“Maybe… Maybe gettin’ used to it shouldn’t be the point. Not to that,” Keishin said. He turned to Takeda. “What are you feeling right now?”
Takeda stopped and looked at him, the moonlight and streetlights casting a range of soft, subtle hues over them both, all these colors and details Keishin could see so clearly since they’d met.
Takeda smiled, a warm candle against the night. “I feel relieved, that you’re by my side.”
--
Keishin pushed the rice thresher back against the side of the shed. After a solid hour of cursing it was finally clean for the winter. The work was satisfying and straightforward compared to his frustrations with the kids lately. They’d been especially rowdy since they’d found out some of them would be going to the regional and national special training camps.
He brushed himself off, coughed at the dust, then locked up the shed and walked back into the farm office.
He found his da at his desk, standing over an array of papers. They hadn’t been the tidiest with their paperwork this year, but it shouldn’t be this bad. It was as if the entire filing cabinet had been emptied in a fit of frustration. The desk chair had been pulled to the other side of the room, where Keishin’s grandad sat. He was tinkering with the brake mechanism for a tractor, working the rust out enough for it to move smoothly again.
There was a tense silence in the room.
His da looked up at him. “All good?”
“Yeah. Can I help with that?” Keishin stepped up to the desk. It stood between him and his father, strewn with disorganized invoices and receipts from the last year.
His da sighed. “Yeah, it’s nothin’ that can’t be done. Just would’ve been easier to do it sooner. Lots of things are like that in life.” He bit out a humorless laugh, keeping his eyes on the desk.
Keishin’s grandad was quiet.
Keishin grabbed a stack and started sorting them by date and type. Something Takeda said to him the other day came back to him, and Keishin couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “We are where we are. Only thing to do is decide what’s best from here,” he said.
His da pulled an empty folder out of the cabinet and began putting contract agreements and employee files back where they belonged. “And what d’ya think is best from here?” he grumbled. It was clearly about more than the paperwork.
Keishin avoided his eye. “What’s best is gettin’ these receipts in order. If you mean elsewhere, then getting the kids to Nationals, rotating the inventory at the shop...”
His da sighed. “Is that all?”
“Why not?” Keishin set his sorted stacks aside and grabbed another handful of papers.
“You know why. I didn’t raise a fool.” His da’s voice was steady, but Keishin could hear the tinge of a scolding at the edges.
“I’m doin’ everything that needs to be done right now,” Keishin said. He glanced at his grandad, who was still working in the corner. He hadn’t looked up, but a tiny smile was pulling at the edge of his mouth.
His da set the papers down and rested his hands on the desk. “Keishin, why are you afraid?”
Keishin looked up, startled at the shift in tone.
His da held his gaze. “Let your ma and me help you. It’s what family’s for.”
Keishin went back to sorting papers, willing the conversation to stop. “I… don’t need help.”
His da crossed his arms. “You’re just too damn proud. Your future’s coming, whether you want it or not. Either make things right with that girl of yours or let her go and move on. The time for playing around is over.”
“Girl...?” Keishin stared at him.
His da raised his eyebrows. “You think I don’t know about that? People like to talk, son.” His da reached behind himself for his chair. When his hand met only empty air he shot an annoyed glance at Keishin’s grandad across the room.
Keishin worked to keep his voice steady. “Why’s it matter that people talk? They don’t know what’s going on, and they don’t know what’s best for me.” Keishin set the next stack of papers back down on the desk, harder than he meant to. “I’m here, aren’t I? I do my duty. I’m here when you need me. I will be here. Let that be enough.”
His da closed his eyes and took a deep breath, just like he’d always done when Keishin was a teenager. “I just want what’s best for you…”
“Then let me do this!” Keishin snapped. “Please,” he added.
His da threw the folder on the desk. “Do what, exactly? Whittle your time away because you refuse to grow up?”
Across the room, his grandad began to laugh.
Keishin and his da stared as the laugh grew from a chuckle to a full belly-laugh. He trailed off into a snicker. “You’re both damn fools,” he said. “Shoji, you remember all those times I wished you’d have a son just as stubborn as you one day? How’s it feel?” He grinned.
“Da, this is serious!”
“I know, that’s why I’m laughin’ at ya. You wouldn’t listen to my other advice anyway. And you,” he turned his eyes on Keishin, his expression serious. “You’re every bit as much of a stubborn fool as your da. You think standing still’s the way forward? You want people to take you seriously, but you don’t even have a plan, do you?”
Keishin flinched. “I have enough.”
His grandad stood up, setting the tractor part aside. He stepped into the patch of light cast by the window, his shadow just reaching Keishin. “You do, huh? Then pick a direction. You know who and where you are by now. You keep runnin’ the clock without looking up, and the world will make you regret it…” he trailed off, pausing to catch his breath.
His da turned back to Keishin. “That’s what I’ve been saying! If you know this isn’t the girl you wanna marry, move on! If you think she is, or might be, just talk to me so your grandad can be satisfied!”
His grandad laughed again, still short of breath.
Keishin hung his head, his hands clenched into fists. “I’m trying, I promise. Just—”
“Da, are you alright?!”
Keishin looked up. His da had crossed the room towards his grandad, who seemed to be struggling more than usual to breathe.
“I’m fine! It’s just, the cold air today,” his grandad complained. He tried to hide his breathing.
“The doctor said you should come in for some tests if something like this happened. It wouldn’t hurt to check…” Keishin’s da had a strange expression on his face. Desperate. Keishin hung back, unsure of what to do.
“Like hell I’m goin’ back there! I’m fine,” his grandad huffed.
“Father, please!” Keishin’s da bowed low to the ground. “I’m not ready to lose you yet. Please. For me.”
His grandad’s expression softened. Then he huffed and looked away. “Worrywart. Fine. Get the car.” He took a few more short breaths, then walked towards the door.
“Right.” His da grabbed his keys off the desk. “Keishin, lock up behind us. I’ll take care of this.”
“Of course,” Keishin said. “I’ve got it.”
His da paused at the door, then smiled sadly at him. “I know. I know you’ve got it. Thank you.”
They went out the door in a hurried whirl of grumbling and bickering. The door clicked behind them. Keishin slumped down into the chair and fumbled for a cigarette.
It’ll be alright, he told himself. He puffed at it, then coughed as the sound of freezing rain began to drum on the roof outside.
--
Keishin drummed his fingers on the counter. His phone was next to him, and a message from his da was still up on the screen:
Everything seems alright for now. They’ll do some more tests, just in case.
He’d gotten that message days ago, but he still looked at it every few hours to reassure himself it was real.
Shimada was leaning up against the wall near him. He’d taken to spending his lunch breaks at Keishin’s shop as they readied for Nationals.
“I can’t believe Hinata just showed up at that training camp!” Shimada snickered. “Talk about guts.”
“That damn kid!” Keishin slapped his hand on the table, days of stress focusing on a single point. “I still can’t believe it. What is he doing?” Keishin buried his head in his hands. He’d been dealing with phone calls and visits to Shiratorizawa ever since Hinata showed up at the regional elite training camp uninvited. They’d managed to get him a place as a ball boy, but the sheer gall of it made his head ache. The week couldn’t end soon enough.
“Giving his all. It’s admirable in one way, and incredibly foolish in another.” Shimada grinned and took another bite of his curry bread. “You’ve got your hands full. What are you gonna do with him?”
Keishin coughed. “I’ve already lectured him, and I’m sure he’ll find out bein’ ball boy’s a tougher job than he thinks.” He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Sensei says the best thing we can do is consider where he is now, not what he should’ve done a week ago. Ideally, we’d always be able to direct the students down the most ‘correct’ path, but real life’s never that convenient. We all have to make the best out of the choices we’re given, and teachin’ them how to do that is what our job as mentors really boils down to.”
Shimada chewed and swallowed another bite of curry bread before saying, “You know, you get this look in your eye whenever you talk about sensei.”
Keishin’s cheeks went hot. “I’m just tellin’ you what he said!”
“Touchy, touchy! Didn’t say it was a bad thing. And he’s got a point. I don’t think any of us would be satisfied if we only did exactly what was expected of us. We wouldn’t, anyway.”
“True…” Keishin traced a scratch in the counter top, an artifact from some careless scrape years ago. He and Shimada hadn’t talked about their drunken night of confessions after regionals. Shimada just started taking his lunch breaks in the shop, and Keishin had started setting aside extra curry and meat buns for him. This seemed as much an invitation to talk about it as he’d get. He coughed, then cleared his throat. “…I still have that button you gave me,” he said.
“Good,” Shimada said. He paused in his meal and studied Keishin’s expression, his face serious. “I meant it, you know.”
“I know. It means a lot.”
It did mean a lot, both that Shimada had been looking out for him and that he trusted Keishin enough to share what he was going through. Keishin had been pouring over articles about trans stuff ever since, trying to get himself up to speed on how to best support his friend, or at least avoid fucking it up too badly.
Keishin looked up at him. “You uh, sure you don’t want me to call you any different? I’m game for it, you know.”
“No,” Shimada said. “Not yet, anyway. Right now I just wanna figure some things out. It’s complicated, you know? It’s not like they taught us this stuff in school.”
Keishin reflected on the hours he’d spent reading articles that Takeda and Nakano had sent him. “No kiddin’.”
Shimada stared down at his feet, scuffing one shoe against the tile floor. “…Is it weird that I’m a volleyball player who feels self-conscious about being tall?”
Keishin considered it. “I mean… it’s a little weird. Aren’t you like, the same height as Haruka Miyashita?”
Shimada froze for a moment, then whipped around to face Keishin. “Did you seriously just compare me to national women’s volleyball star and Olympian athlete Haruka Miyashita? Are you fucking joking?”
Keishin faltered. Maybe he’d misunderstood. “You’re, uh, around 177 centimeters... right?”
Shimada shoved Keishin’s arm. “You’re too good. Quit it already, before you make me cry in your store.” He turned away again and crossed his arms, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips and betraying his bluster for what it was.
“Alright alright, I’ll save it.” Keishin reached for a safer topic. “Did Takinoue talk to you about that video yet?”
“Yeah, we’re gonna record my interview for it tomorrow. He’s all fired up about it, it’s really good to see.”
Keishin smiled. “He’s back on his feet.”
“Yeah, he’s a good guy.”
“Yeah.”
There was a beat of silence.
“Have you talked to him about...?” Keishin asked.
“No. Have you told him about…?”
“No.” Keishin sighed. “Dunno if I should.”
“He’s hard to figure out sometimes,” Shimada said. “Kinda oblivious to anything that’s not on a volleyball court or doesn’t have circuit boards. But I know he cares about you, and it might help clear up some confusion.”
“I wanna get there,” Keishin admitted. He hung his head at the memory of the argument with his da. “I want to get to a point where I can just proudly say who I am, when and if someone needs to know. But… not yet.”
“Nothing wrong with not being there yet.”
“Yeah,” Keishin lit a cigarette and puffed at it. “He cares about you too, you know.”
“Good, ‘cause he owes me a beer.” Shimada grinned and stretched. “Alright, my lunch break’s over. I’ll see you at practice later?”
“Yeah, see you then.”
The door closed behind Shimada. Keishin drummed his fingers on the countertop again. Then he took another drag off his cigarette and coughed. And coughed.
And coughed.
Ah, fuck.
He could feel a heaviness in his sinuses and a soreness in the back of this throat that was different from the usual smoky burn. It was the beginnings of a cold.
He groaned and glared at the cigarette. Finishing it would make the cold worse, but nicotine withdrawal would make him feel like death warmed over.
He put the cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply. Just one more, he thought.
--
There was one more cough drop in the bag. Keishin had gone through them in less than a week while his sinuses dripped and his body ached. They kept him functional enough to work and coach, at least, though Tattsuan had banished him from the neighborhood team practices until he could jog without coughing up a lung.
He shivered and bounced one leg under the counter, irritation and exhaustion from a nicotine craving roiling inside his chest. He’d tried to make the cold easier to bear by smoking only half a pack a day this week. It was a bar set pitifully low, and one that he’d mostly failed to clear anyway. Even still, it had left him irritated and coughing for most of the week.
The bell on the shop door rang. He glared at it.
Tattsuan stepped into the shop. “Feeling any better?”
“I’ll live,” Keishin grumbled.
“I should hope so!” Tattsuan set a small bag on the counter. “Here, I brought you some ginger roots from my parent’s house. My mom always insists they have more healing properties than the store-bought ones, so make yourself some tea later, alright? We miss having our setter around.”
Keishin took the bag and set it in a safe spot behind the counter. “Thanks. I’m hoping I’ll be good to join you guys again next week.”
“Good! That’d be great timing for something else, too...”
Keishin stared at him. His head ached.
“Fumiko and I are hosting another singles party. Just before Christmas, you know? Oh, don’t give me that look. You should come, assuming you’re feeling better. It’ll be fun!”
“I appreciate it, there’s just a lot goin’ on…” Keishin said carefully. Tattsuan had been getting progressively pushier about this. Keishin wished he’d go back to not caring.
“Not so much you don’t deserve a little fun once in a while. Besides, it’ll be weird if there’s not an even number of people. Plus, one of Fumiko’s friends specifically asked about you! You remember Minami, right?”
He didn’t.
Keishin grabbed his copy of Shonen Jump behind the counter, just to have something to do with his hands. “I don’t have time. Besides, shouldn’t you two be gettin’ a nursery ready or something?”
“We’re due in January, and organizing anything after the baby comes will be a lot harder. Fumiko just wants to do this for her friends before that happens and things get hectic. You don’t have to do anything other than show up and make small talk, I promise.”
Guilt won out. Keishin sighed. “I’ll see if I can make it.”
“Great! I’ll text you the details later. It’ll be good for people to see you there. Might clear up some confusion, you know?”
Keishin startled, then broke out into another coughing fit.
“Woah, easy there.” Tattsuan stepped back and waited until the coughing subsided. “Drink that tea and get some rest alright? I’ll leave you be.” He waved at him as he stepped out the door.
Keishin buried his head in his hands, his headache worsening. He forced himself to take a few deep breathes.
Confusion.
“Fuuuuuuck,” he sighed and rubbed at his eyes.
It didn’t matter. If rumors were trying to get going, there was nothing he could do about it. Not now, anyway.
He shivered again and reached behind the counter for a package of disposable heating pads. It would be time for the kid’s practice soon, and freezing his ass off in the gym wouldn’t help his health or his mood.
He stuck the pad to his shoulder, where it tended to ache after a long shift at work anyway. Heat radiated out from it, quieting some of his nerves. He grabbed the last cough drop—and his pack of cigarettes—and headed into the house to get ready to go coach.
He’d preferred it when Tattsuan hadn’t cared about his love life.
--
“I just don’t understand why he’s makin’ a big thing of it now,” Keishin complained. He’d given in to another smoke as he and Takeda walked from the school to Takeda’s apartment. His throat still felt like hell, but he’d been too twitchy after practice to ignore the cravings any longer.
“Tattsuan’s probably just worried about you,” Takeda said. “Can you talk to him about it?”
“Maybe, dunno what I’d say—” Keishin was cut off by another coughing fit, his whole body shaking with each cough.
“Are you alright?” Takeda stopped, reaching out to touch his back.
The coughing subsided with a shiver. The heating pad on Keishin’s shoulder was long since spent. “I’m fine, just not feeling well. I usually get a cold like this at the start of winter. I’ll be fine.” He had his cigarette halfway to his mouth before he stopped and glared at it. “These damn things probably don’t help,” he admitted. He knew his physiology. He knew they were awful.
“Do you ever think about quitting?” Takeda asked.
“Sometimes, yeah.” He compromised with himself and took another quick puff. “It’s just, I started when I was fourteen. When it’s been goin’ on that long, it’s hard to picture just quittin’.”
“That would be hard,” Takeda said.
Keishin snuffed out the cigarette. “Try damn near impossible.”
Takeda looked ahead, toward the horizon. “I trust you to do what’s best for you. I will say I know you’re capable of doing a lot of nearly impossible things… like getting a team to Nationals.” He smiled and glanced at Keishin through the corner of his eye.
Keishin felt a warmth on his cheeks despite the cold. He turned and walked ahead. “Come on, let’s get to your place.”
When they arrived at Takeda’s apartment, Keishin found himself shooed out of the kitchen.
“Let me cook tonight. You should rest and stay warm,” Takeda insisted.
“But I said I’d make you nikujaga,” Keishin complained, but let himself be led to the kotatsu table.
“And instead I’ll make you my mother’s rice porridge. It always helped me when I didn’t feel well. Now sit.” Takeda reached under the table and turned the heater on. “Let me take care of you.” He pulled the blanket over Keishin’s lap.
Keishin leaned into him, resting his head on his shoulder. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Takeda said softly. He stroked Keishin’s hair, then kissed him on top of his head. “Rest up. I’ll try not to mess this up too badly.”
Takeda went back into the kitchen. Keishin closed his eyes and relaxed into the warm comfort of the kotatsu. His sinuses were dripping now, and he dabbed at his nose with a tissue and suppressed the urge to cough again.
The semester was in full swing and Takeda’s apartment was showing signs of neglect. A mug from the day before was still on the table, along with stacks of half-graded papers, notes on volleyball strategies, and a book of poetry. Keishin reached for the book.
“An anthology of court poetry?” he asked, looking at the cover.
“Oh? Yeah,” Takeda laughed self-consciously from the kitchen. “The transition from fall to winter makes me feel sort of wistful, and a lot of those poems have a similar feeling. Feel free to flip through it, if you like.”
Keishin flipped through the pages, taking in verses here and there of pining lovers, fleeting beauty, and shifts in seasons. Partway through the back he noticed a small sheet of paper stuck between the pages. He paused and pulled it out. It was notebook paper, and in Takeda’s neat handwriting was this:
Alone at end of day, my mind turns loose to thoughts of you, your heat a hopeless dream. Your hands and voice unthinkingly seduce, then leave me longing for your eyes to gleam. One day, you’ll pin me in some lurid pose, for I’ll say words that will your lust unlock and then we’ll tread this obscene path I chose, this prayer with hands wrapped rough around my cock. I am an animal like any other, clandestine dreaming of your smoky mouth, I’m thrusting helpless wanting spilling over, imagining monsoons during a drought. When dreams lie spent it’s memories that stay of friendship that not lust, nor fear, outweigh.
“Take-chan… what’s this?” Keishin called into the kitchen.
“What’s what now?” Takeda called back.
Keishin started reading the poem aloud. Before he could get through the second line there was a clatter from the kitchen and Takeda rushed into the room. “Don’t! Don’t read that!” He made to snatch the paper from him.
Keishin held the paper at up at arm’s length, away from Takeda’s reach. “Why not? What is it?”
“It’s an embarrassment!” Takeda reached for it again. “I thought I got rid of all of those! Keishin… please.”
Keishin relented and gave him the sheet of paper. “How’s it an embarrassment? What is it?”
Takeda took the paper, folded it, and set it on the table. He sat in front of Keishin, his eyes averted. “I… sometimes write poetry. That’s one I wrote… about you. Before we were together. I’m sorry.”
Something fluttered in Keishin’s chest. “You wrote a poem about me?”
“Most of them weren’t that bad!” Takeda bowed. “You really found the most embarrassing one. I’m sorry. It’s before I knew you well enough to have any right to do such a thing.”
“You wrote more than one about me?!” Keishin ran his hand through his hair, mussing the band that held it in place, too shocked to care about his appearance at that moment. “Can I read any more?”
Takeda’s face went pale. “No! They’re all terrible!”
“I don’t care. You wrote poetry about me,” Keishin said again, delight bubbling up in his chest. “Really?!”
“Well, yes. I told you I’d been thinking about you before we got together…” Takeda trailed off, his hands clenching and unclenching.
“I guess I just didn’t really believe it. All that time I figured it was just me. Poetry!” Keishin laughed. “Damn, how’d I get so lucky. You sure I can’t read more?”
Takeda bit his lip. “It’s just… I wrote those before I knew you as well as I know you now. It’s embarrassing, and not just because of my predictable word choices and weak poetic structure.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
Keishin leaned back. “Ah, I see. Y’had a picture of this cool guy, but now you hafta deal with the reality of me fillin’ your apartment with snotty tissues,” he teased.
“I prefer this version.” Takeda reached out and squeezed his hand. “I promise I’ll write you something new someday, something that captures the depth of my feelings now. Then you can look at this drivel and laugh,” Takeda gestured to the paper on the table. “In the meantime, can you be patient with me? This is something I’d like to do right.”
Keishin sniffed and squeeze his hand back. “It’s somethin’ I wanna do right, too.”
The smell of burning wafted in from the kitchen.
“Shit,” Takeda hissed. He stood up and ran back to the kitchen. “Just stay there! I got it!”
“You want any help?” Keishin called.
“No, it’s fine. I just, uh… I’ll take the crispy parts, don’t worry!”
The rice was burnt. Takeda had given Keishin the best parts. His porridge was soft, and the nutty, bitter burnt taste was present but not overpowering. It was a little oddly textured from where Takeda had added more water after it burnt, but it wasn’t bad.
Takeda’s had black chunks sticking out of it.
“You sure you don’t wanna eat something else?” Keishin asked. “I’m not gonna judge you for it.”
“I’ll feel bad wasting it.” Takeda took another bite. It crunched between his teeth.
Keishin winced at the sound. “Mmhmm. You still have some leftover chicken from the other night in the fridge. Why don’t you eat some of that too, so I won’t feel guilty you’re missing out on a full meal ‘cause of me?”
Takeda sighed and relented. “I suppose that wouldn’t be the worst. I’ll be right back.”
There was the beep of the microwave, and Takeda returned a few minutes later with a small plate of leftovers.
“Y’know… I had a certain picture of you too, before we got together,” Keishin said. “But I also prefer what we have now, to anything I imagined back then.” He took another bite, this one perfectly soft and soothing on his throat. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
Takeda smiled at him, sending warmth from Keishin’s stomach up to his chest. “Likewise.”
--
“When my students put everything they have into their training, how could I not do the same?” Takeda’s voice over the video was brimming with pride. He smiled at the camera. “I always felt there was something special in our team, yet Karasuno’s players have grown beyond what I ever imagined. They’re ready to show our opponents at Nationals what we’re worth.”
Keishin paused the video, accidentally catching Takeda mid-blink. He snorted, trailing off into a warm chuckle at the earnest and determined energy Takeda radiated in his interview.
He was finally feeling better, and Takinoue had asked Keishin to review the final footage for the kids. Keishin couldn’t find much fault in it; Takinoue was a good interviewer and his genial and relaxed attitude was contagious. Even Keishin had found himself talking into the camera with enthusiasm, bolstered further by the feeling of clear sinuses. Once Takinoue finished editing in the title cards, they’d be good to go.
Keishin stared at the screen. Even in the ridiculous freeze frame, there were the little crinkles at the corners of Takeda’s eyes that he got when he smiled. Keishin smiled back at the image.
Takeda had worked hard over the last year, harder than anyone could have asked him to. He deserved something in return, something to make him understand his efforts were noticed.
Keishin jolted, struck by an idea. He pulled out his phone and typed a message to Nakano.
SetAndReady: hey, hows it going?
Bananakano: not great, tbh
SetAndReady: what’s going on?
Bananakano: i dont really want to talk about it. Bananakano: whats up with you?
SetAndReady: well, it’s a little early, but… SetAndReady: I have an idea for sensei’s birthday
Keishin outlined the basics of his plan and hit send. Before Nakano could respond, the bell on the shop door rang. Keishin shoved his phone back into his pocket as Kinoshita stepped into the shop.
Keishin could immediately tell something was up. It was rare to see Kinoshita without the other second years, and he was slouched and looking around in the way that people do when they’re trying to appear more casual than they feel. Keishin pretended to read his magazine while the boy made a show of browsing the shelves.
He spent a lot of time looking at their seasonal Christmas candies. Maybe that’s why he’d come alone, to avoid any teasing from his friends. It was sweet, in a way.
With Christmas coming up soon, everyone seemed to be pairing off. He’d seen Sawamura and the captain of the girls’ volleyball team holding hands the other day, and Shimizu had been extra nervous around Yachi lately, like she was constantly on the verge of saying something before backing down.
Christmas romance was cute, he decided. At least when it didn’t bring people trying to shove every single woman they knew on him. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of Tattsuan’s party tomorrow.
Kinoshita coughed. He was lingering awkwardly between the counter and the shop’s dine-in tables. “Um… Coach?”
Keishin shook himself to clear his thoughts, then stood up. “Y’need help with somethin’?”
Kinoshita nodded. He swallowed. “I uh. I know some of the other guys have been coming to you for advice….”
“Yep.” Keishin sat down and gestured to the chair across from him. “What’s goin’ on?”
Kinoshita sat down and stared at the table, avoiding Keishin’s eye as his face started to turn red. “Well, the team’s been more popular since we found out we’re goin’ to Nationals. And ah,” he started mumbling, “I think I got a… date.”
Keishin grinned, charmed that the guy was stammering over the possibility of a girlfriend. “A date just in time for Christmas, huh?”
Kinoshita nodded, eyes still fixed on the table in front of him. “Yeah! I just ah… she seems kinda… I was wondering, I was wondering how you, ah…. I mean I know how it… Um.”
Keishin smiled and waited for him to find his words.
“I’m just thinkin’ if she wanted to… you know.” Kinoshita looked up at him, then back down again.
Oh. Keishin’s stomach dropped. This was not a conversation he had been prepared for.
“I just wanna do it right, you know?” Kinoshita was still bright red. “So ah… how do I… do it?”
Kinoshita looked like he was ready for the ground to swallow him up right then and there. Keishin felt the same.
“Uh,” he started. Shit kid, I don’t know a thing about women. And you’re like ten years too young to be doing anything! Twenty years too young!
Kinoshita fidgeted, picking at a spot on the table where the lining was cracked. It occurred to Keishin that Kinoshita’s parents were a bit controlling, so he probably didn’t have any adults in his life that he felt comfortable asking about this. Who knows what his internet situation was like at home.
Keishin took a deep breath. He could do this. Probably.
“Okay, look,” Keishin said. “It’s not like there’s some magic formula. The first thing is to make sure that you actually wanna do it. There’s prob’ly gonna be a big difference between the fantasy in your head and what it’s actually like the first time. If you realize you’re not ready, then stop. Likewise, she’s gotta do the same. You can both change your minds at any time, no matter how far you get inta things or what all has happened before then, alright?” Keishin emphasized his next words, “I don’t give a rat’s ass what anyone else says, a real man observes the situation at hand and stops as soon as he notices something ain’t right. Got it?” Keishin looked him over, checking to see if the plea towards his masculinity had worked.
Kinoshita eyes were wide, but he was giving him his full attention. He nodded slowly. Good.
“As for… the logistics…” Keishin faltered. “Just take your time. No matter how horny you are, it’s not a race. And um.” Keishin reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of condoms. “Use these. Doesn’t matter what you’re doin’. If your dick is out, it’s wrapped. Got it?”
Kinoshita stared at the condoms like they were going to bite him. He nodded. Then, tentatively, reached out and plucked them from Keishin’s hand. He stared at them for a moment, a holy relic in his palms, then tucked them into his pocket.
“Anythin’ else?” Keishin said, eager to end the conversation.
“Yeah, um. Is the clit as hard to find as they say it is?”
A string of curses ran through Keishin’s mind. He waved his hands vaguely, “It’s… like when you’re looking for an opening on the court. Y’just gotta read the lay of the land.”
Kinoshita stared at him blankly.
Keishin decided to drop the volleyball metaphors. “Just… look at an anatomy textbook or somethin’, alright?”
Kinoshita gave him a solemn nod. “Right. Best not to leave it to chance.” He stood up, then bowed. “Thanks, Coach!”
Keishin cleared his throat and awkwardly went back to sit behind the counter. Kinoshita marched out the door. As soon as he was gone, Keishin lit a cigarette and puffed at it until his heartrate went back to normal.
--
Shimada’s apartment was back to its usual stark façade.
Takinoue shuffled inside, his arms full of grocery bags filled with individual cans of beer. “Keishin, give me a hand with the fridge door, will ya?”
“Careful you don’t shake them too much!” Shimada fussed. The limited-edition beers were the last of the order from Shimada Mart. It was a ‘Love Holiday Special!’ beer infused with yuzu. They hadn’t sold out, which was ridiculous because they were delicious.
Soon they were settled around Shimada’s room, each with a beer in hand. It was a comfortable retreat after the awkwardness of Tattsuan and Fumiko’s singles party.
Takinoue smiled despite the chilly air of the apartment. “Man, I can’t believe we all struck out again.” He opened his beer with a hiss. It bubbled up dangerously, but didn’t spill over.
“It’s alright, there’s always next year.” Shimada stretched and settled into his seat. “That Minami girl seemed pretty into you.”
“Only after Keishin messed up his game.” Takinoue nudged Keishin with his shoulder. “You almost seemed into it this time, man. Then halfway through you’re back to the one-word answers and talkin’ about the weather. We gotta work on that. You need practice? Pretend I’m a pretty girl.”
Keishin shoved him and rolled his eyes. He’d given the party his best shot. He’d tried to seem interested and flirtatious. But in the end, the whole thing had just felt too fake. Besides, what would he have done if anything had actually come of it? He took a swig of beer and savored the tangy citrus flavor of it.
“We’ll see if there is a next time,” Shimada said. “I can’t believe Tattsuan’s gonna be a dad soon.”
“He’s been wantin’ it for a long time. I’m glad it’s happening,” Keishin said. He shifted; his pack of cigarettes was still a third full and uncomfortable in his back pocket. He took them out and set them on the table.
Takinoue glanced at them. “Hey, have you been trying to cut back? That looks a little full for this time of day.”
“Eh. Trying and mostly failing,” Keishin sighed.
Takinoue stared at the pack of cigarettes, then hummed to himself and leaned back to take another drink. “Say, you ever use that ramen coupon I gave you?”
“Oh yeah, I keep meanin’ to thank you for that,” Keishin said. Takinoue perked up. “Sensei and I went with some of his co-workers. It was really great ramen, and it was nice to do somethin’ good for him. I owe ya.”
Takinoue’s expression fell. “Oh. Well, you’re welcome,” he said.
“So Takinoue! How’s that video coming?” Shimada said, steering the conversation to a more comfortable space.
Takinoue lit up again, and the evening rolled into the easy rapport the three had built over the years. They talked about Tokyo and the neighborhood team, about movies, and about the town’s current gossip.
By the time they were mostly through their second drink, Takinoue had gone strangely quiet again, summoning only a chuckle as Keishin and Shimada traded giant monster puns.
“What do you call a rowdy group of Mothras?” Shimada asked.
Keishin groaned. “Let me guess, a moth pit?”
Shimada laughed. “Spoilsport. I’ll go get us some more beers.” He stood and walked over to the kitchen.
Takinoue watched him go, then sat up straight. “Keishin… listen,” he started. “I’m being absolutely serious about this, so I need you to hear me out, okay?”
Keishin blinked at him. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”
“I think you should date Saeko.”
“The fuck?!” Keishin sputtered, spilling the last of his beer down the front of his shirt.
Takinoue’s face was serious, and he met Keishin’s eye without wavering. “I mean it,” he said, “I’ve put a lot of thought into it and… you’ve never even looked at a girl twice before her. But, you did. With her. I even got a little jealous about it a few times—”
Keishin set his empty beer can down on the table. “The hell are you on about? I’m not datin’ your ex.”
Takinoue pressed on. “I think you should at least ask her out, maybe not spend Christmas alone for once. I tried to be subtle before but it wasn’t working, so why don’t you just try to let yourself be happy—”
“I told you, I’m not gonna date your—”
“How long are you just gonna let things slip away from you like this!” Takinoue snapped.
Keishin stared at him. Shimada froze awkwardly by the fridge, beers still in hand.
“Is it because of me?” Takinoue pressed on. “Yeah, we broke up, and yeah it was sad, but that doesn’t mean you should hold back your own happiness for my sake. I’m not that fuckin’ weak, man.”
“I’m not holdin’ back on anything,” Keishin said.
“I think you are. You always have been. You act like nobody can tell when you’re feeling off, but I noticed it when she and I were together and now I just—”
“I was workin’ three shifts every day! Of course I seemed off!”
Takinoue’s gaze flicked down to the table. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again his voice was soft and steady. “Look, I care about both of you and I want some kind of good ending to this. She’s not interested in settling down any time soon, and neither are you, so why not at least give it a shot and see? I think you’d be better for her than I was.”
Keishin reached for his pack of cigarettes, just to hold the familiar shape. “I’m not gonna date Saeko. Or any other girl you drag in front of me.”
Takinoue let out a frustrated groan. “Well why the hell not?”
Keishin tapped the pack of cigarettes on the table. He took a deep breath, then set them down.
“Because I’m gay.” His voice was quiet and even.
The room was silent save for Takinoue’s whispered, “What?”
There was a crash as Shimada stood up too fast, the task of getting beers suddenly shifting from politely taking too long to a hurried rush to get back to the table.
“I’m gay,” Keishin repeated, louder this time.
Takinoue stared at him. “But you’re…” his brow furrowed. “You’re kidding, right?” He let out a nervous laugh. “I mean, look, I’m sure we’ve all looked at a guy in the locker room and thought about it, but that doesn’t mean—”
“I’ve never done that,” Shimada interrupted him as he settled back into his seat.
Takinoue titled his head. “You… haven’t?”
“No!” Shimada’s expression soured. “Men are disgusting.”
“Speak for yourself!” Takinoue puffed out his chest in mock pride. Then his expression flickered, like he was setting some thought aside to process later. He turned back to Keishin. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” Keishin kept his head raised high. He wasn’t going to apologize for this. He wasn’t. “That’s how it’s always been. Doesn’t change nothin’, alright?”
“Yeah, okay. Um. Are you, like…” Takinoue fidgeted. “Ah, fuck… what’s the kind where you wanna be a girl and stuff?”
Keishin sighed. “No. That’s something different. There’s a lot more nuance to queer stuff than what you see on TV.”
“Oh.” Takinoue stared at the table. Shimada was next to him, looking uncomfortable.
“…Would ya have a problem if I was though? If I was trans?” Keishin asked.
“What? No. You can, you can do whatever you want. I’m not against any of it, I just didn’t know…” He trailed off.
Shimada visibly relaxed.
Takinoue continued, awkwardly feeling his way through the new territory. “I thought…” He ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, was that a really stupid thing to ask?”
“Yes, but it’s what you’re used to seeing,” Shimada answered.
Takinoue nodded, then squinted at him. “Wait a minute,” he said, “Did you know about this already?!”
“Yep, because I’m the Most Trustworthy Friend,” Shimada grinned at him.
Takinoue turned to Keishin, “What the fuck, man!”
“Don’t give me that. He happened to guess at it and I told him. You’re not that far apart in findin’ out.”
“It’s true,” Shimada said, “Which also means I’m the Most Observant Friend.”
“Jerk,” Takinoue elbowed him. Then he stilled, looking thoughtful. “Well… this explains a lot.”
Keishin swallowed.
Takinoue drummed his fingers on the table. “…And you don’t want me to introduce you to any girls?”
“Not really, no.”
Takinoue looked up at him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I… kept thinking it wouldn’t matter, or that it’d matter too much. I wasn’t about t’ lose one of my best friends if I could help it.” Keishin swallowed, realizing that was now a very real possibility.
“It’s a part of who you are, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he said. “No changing it.”
“Then it matters,” Takinoue said, as if it were obvious. “Because you matter. There’s a lot I don’t know, and I’m really sorry if I ever… if I ever said anything dumb about this stuff. I’ll work on that. But you can always trust me to have your back, man.” He grinned. “We always said no matter what, right?”
Keishin felt himself choke up at that, at the memory of the three of them on the high school court, drenched in sweat at the start of their senior year. No matter where we go or what happens, we’re a team. No matter what. It was a moment that held that little high school gym in his mind for years after, the reason he’d hesitated to return and risk tarnishing the memory.
Shimada sniffed and wiped at his eyes.
Takinoue tapped his chin in thought. “You know... I think I have a cousin who’s gay,” he said. “He lives in Sendai, and I can ask if he’s single. I bet you’d get along, too!”
Keishin laughed, relief and exasperation cutting through the silence. “I don’t,” he muffled another laugh, “I don’t need you t’set me up with guys either.” He wiped his eyes. “But thanks.”
“What, you don’t trust my taste in guys either? I’m hurt!” Takinoue said, clutching his chest in mock-offense.
Keishin laughed again. “I’m good, really.”
Takinoue’s eyes lit up. “Wait, does this mean you already have a boyfriend? Who is it? Do I know—”
Keishin grew serious. “Yeah, I got a boyfriend, and he’s not out so you can quit your speculations right there.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Takinoue deflated. “That’s a big deal, isn’t it? Not being outed?”
“Yeah, it is,” Shimada said.
“It really is. I need this to stay with you two, got it? Really stay with you two. Let me decide who needs to know and who doesn’t. Go it?”
“Got it.” Takinoue squeezed his forearm. “You can count on me.”
“And me,” Shimada said.
Takinoue grinned and raised his beer. “To my best friends, and to Keishin’s happiness!”
And they cheered, and drank, and the night rolled on into their usual comforting shenanigans. There was a moment, when Takinoue squeezed both their shoulders, that Keishin realized that he had a new perfect memory, just as radiant as anything from that little high school gym. He laughed, and wondered how many more radiant memories lay ahead.
--
The sun had just vanished behind the horizon, casting the high school gym in a lingering orange light after practice. Keishin was about to leave for the night, but he paused at the door.
Shimizu was standing just outside the gym, shaking slightly in the December cold. She had something in her right hand, a little gift bag with a single ribbon tried around the handle.
Yachi came around the corner, her things gathered and ready to go home.
Shimizu stiffened when she saw her. “Hitoka-chan? Can… I talk to you?”
Yachi froze, a deer in the headlights. “Yes!” she blurted out.
Shimizu gave Keishin a worried glance. Keishin took it as his cue to leave.
He turned around and walked back into the gym, catching Takeda on his way.
“What are we…?” Takeda questioned as Keishin turned him around and towards the back of the gym.
“Shhh,” Keishin hushed. He nodded his head to the door, where they could just see Shimizu fidgeting with the gift bag. Keishin cleared his throat and said loudly “Sensei, we have to check all the equipment in the closet today, remember? It’ll take forever, so we should go get started on it now!”
“Oh! Uh, right! It’ll be a while!” Takeda said, loud enough to be heard from the outside.
They ducked into the supply closet and the door clicked behind them. Keishin sighed in relief, then realized his plan was not as well thought out as he’d imagined.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “The girls have been so skittish lately I didn’t wanna mess it up for ‘em. Didn’t really think about what we’d do from here.”
“No, no, this is fine.” Takeda said. “We… probably should do an equipment check, actually. It’ll help convince the school president to grant us more funds if there’s anything that needs replacing, and it’ll give those two plenty of time to talk if that’s what they need.” He pulled out a pen and opened his notebook to a blank page.
“Right.” Keishin pulled a few dig drill boards that he remembered were showing signs of wear. Considering their spartan training schedule lately, it was a wonder that they didn’t have more repairs to make.
Takeda sat on the floor and made notes. “I’ve been meaning to ask… how is your grandfather doing?” He jotted down a note that one of boards had a cracked handle.
“They adjusted his meds, but he’s been put on bed rest again. Dunno if he listens.” Keishin sighed.
“I know it’s been a stressful year,” Takeda said.
“Stressful, aggravating, and downright scary.” Keishin forced a laugh. “Kinda like the man himself. It’s complicated, like I’ve told you.” He pushed the ball cart back and forth slightly, checking that all the wheels were spinning. “I want him to be alright, for everything to just be okay between everyone. But I know better than t’ hold my breath for that last part.” He sighed. “I’m tryin’ to focus on what I can control and let the other stuff go. I’ll let you know when it starts working.”
“Well I’m here if you need anything, alright?”
Keishin gave him a sheepish grin. “Like doing an impromptu equipment check when I can’t think of a better excuse to hide in the closet?”
“Ha, exactly! I’m here for all your impromptu supply closet needs!” Takeda pumped his fist from his spot on the floor. “In all seriousness though… It’s sweet, the way you look out for Yachi and Shimizu.” He made a note about the frayed edge of a net.
“I just know how hard it can be out here,” Keishin said. “If giving ‘em a little space makes a difference, then that’s what I wanna do.”
Takeda hummed in agreement. They worked in silence while Keishin checked the air pumps for leaks.
“…Does it ever feel like fate to you?” Takeda asked after a while. “That we know each other, that we’re here now for those girls? I wonder sometimes, how hard things would be if I didn’t have you here with me.”
Keishin shook his head. It was a poetic thought, but it didn’t fit right. “You’d figure it out. If anyone could go to war for those kids, it’d be you. You’ve done it plenty already for the team.”
Takeda laughed self-consciously. “I just do what I think needs to be done.”
“That’s the magic of you.” Keishin brushed the dust off of a box of old cleaning supplies. “Maybe I think of it less as fate and more as choice,” he said, surprised at his own words. “We choose to look out for each other, for those kids. I didn’t used to think that way but… since I met you, I can see the choices I make every day, and it makes me want to choose better.”
“Keishin….” Takeda’s expression grew impossibly soft.
There was a moment of silence and Keishin turned away a little, his cheeks hot.
“Keishin, do you want to spend Christmas Eve with me?” Takeda asked.
“Yeah!” Keishin said, perking up at the thought. “What are we doing for it? You wanna go somewhere?” Keishin looked in the box at the half-empty cleaning bottles. “We really should clean these out,” he muttered.
Takeda made a note about the box. “I want to make a meal for you. A good one.”
Keishin put the box back on the shelf. There wasn’t much else to do, so he sat down on the floor next to Takeda. Their shoulders pressed together, a comforting point of contact. “Yeah? Am I allowed to help with this one?”
Takeda tapped his chin with the pen. “Hm, I suppose I’ll allow it. Let me handle the cake, though.”
“Cake? You’re gonna spoil me,” Keishin teased.
Takeda leaned his head against Keishin’s shoulder. “That’s the idea. Do you like chocolate?”
“Sure,” Keishin said. He let his head rest against Takeda’s. They slipped into a comfortable silence, the supplies around them forming a little cove of safety.
“I came out to Takinoue yesterday,” Keishin said.
Takeda shifted slightly. “Oh? How did that go?”
Keishin nuzzled closer to him, unwilling to give up the comforting touch. “It was terrifying. But, we’re good. He knows I’m gay, he knows I have a boyfriend, and I told him not to ask who. He was so good about it. I’m just… so relieved.” He closed his eyes and sighed, taking in the scent of Takeda’s shampoo.
Takeda slid his hand over Keishin’s, entwining their fingers. “I’m glad. I’m sure that took courage.”
Guilt bubbled up in Keishin’s gut. “Yeah. But, it made me realize something. When you first told me that you’re bi… that must’ve been just as scary, maybe more. And I was such an ass about it…”
Takeda squeezed his hand. “It’s in the past.”
“Yeah, and I wanna make sure it stays there. It was all my own bullshit, but that’s no excuse for putting it on you. You deserved better than that, and… I’m sorry. I promise I’m gonna keep learning, without giving you that kind of trouble.”
“Mmn,” Takeda hummed. “I appreciate your acknowledgment of that. Apology accepted.” He stood up and stretched, his spine cracking as he did so. “Now, shall we get out of here?” He offered Keishin a hand up.
“What, closets aren’t where you like to hang out?” Keishin said as he took his hand.
Takeda laughed. “Not all the time, no.”
Keishin stood up, stretched, and they went out the door together.
|
Gakushuu: Oh to see without my eyes
Gakushuu’s standing in the middle of the drab, dreary office that the principal inhabits like an anemic vampire in their crypt, detailing his very lengthy specific plan to thwart class 3-E’s current leaps in progress - rather delayed in its proceedings, unfortunately, given that 3-E has already (miraculously) won an academic bet against 3-A and are currently packing for their all-expenses-paid, exclusive trip to a resort on Okinawa Islands. Said principal has resting on his face a bored, unimpressed look that has sent many before Gakushuu to tears at the mere idea of disappointing the man himself, but alas, Gakushuu is immune. He’s always been a disappointment, anyways, so he owns it.
He’s in the middle of his plan, the grand academic structure’s going to impose upon his fellow classmates (minions) to bring them further and beyond their academic prowess, when three loud raps sound against the door and Gakushuu stills, because they’re not expecting visitors. Well, there’s no “do not enter” sign but it’s pretty much an unstated rule that meetings between the student council president and the principal - father and son, whatever floats the rumor mill or runs the boat or as these sayings go - are to be uninterrupted.
Nobody knows what sort of satanic rituals the inhuman family duo get up to in their private time, of course, an occult summoning in the school ground perhaps, or a depraved torture chamber buried in the midsts of the labyrinth that runs underneath Kunugigaoka’s soil that do not exist? Nobody has emerged from the principal’s office unscathed, with eyes always reflecting a horror they are unable to describe, but why is Gakushuu’s unfortunate surname implicated in the repercussions? That, as far as he’s concerned, is a hundred percent the fault of the Principal himself.
He digresses. Three knocks sound on the door, Gakushuu pauses in his speech, the door opens. In walks Karasuma Tadaomi, the mysterious homeroom teacher and replacement of Aguri-sensei for the ever-elusive class 3-E, the man supposedly partly responsible for the class’ jump in grades. An interesting man hiding secrets behind secrets behind an indifferent mask of professionalism that mirrors the one the principal often wears. Gakushuu is intrigued.
“About the Okinawa trip,” the man starts, but he pauses at his registration of Gakushuu’s presence, stopping in an awkward point halfway down the room with light still creeping through a crack left in the door. As if sensing the tension that awaits, some divine power from above summons a non-existent breeze that shuts the door with an ominous click. If Karasuma-sensei is present to discuss the Okinawa trip, there is likely to be tidbits of information that Gakushuu would find useful to pick up on for his quest to find out the truth on the mountain.
“Asano,” the principal says faux-pleasantly. It’s a dismissal, and Gakushuu ignores it.
“Don’t mind me, Karasuma-sensei, Principal,” he says with a beam on his face, slipping easily into the cheery student council president role he plays that the student populace seems to eat up. Karasuma-sensei seems mildly bewildered at the switch in character, and his father seems amused as he always is, except now his words are underlined with a current of impatience as he says “What is the matter, Karasuma?”
“Oh, well,” Karasuma-sensei says, Gakushuu’s unyielding stare causing the slightest slip in his professionalism. He may seem as put together as the principal is, but he’s still inferior, and he glances at Gakushuu with a stern stare in what must be a futile attempt at driving him away. Gakushuu smiles just a little wider at risk of looking more like a psychopath and meets his gaze head-on.
“If this is about the Okinawa trip,” Gakushuu says breezily, inclining his head just for effect, “perhaps I can offer some advice, I’ve been to Okinawa a few times myself and this is the perfect time of the year for snorkelling and hiking. I do want my schoolmates to have a
wonderful
time, of course, they’ve earned it.”
Karasuma-sensei sends the principal a pleading look. The principal, on the other hand, is doing a terrible job at concealing his amusement with his mouth behind his hand which he quickly drops when the attention is turned to him, although his lips stay quirked upwards. He abandons propriety and says in an oddly casual tone for a teachers’ meeting, “he’s not going to leave,” and looks pointedly at Gakushuu.
Gakushuu smiles back at both of them.
Karasuma-sensei seems to have accepted the fact as well, eye twitching in mild irritation. He steps forward to hand a nondescript brown folder over to the principal which Gakushuu considers trying his hand at nicking later, but he looks at the principal and thinks that despite his best efforts, he would fall short. He evaluates Karasuma-sensei to wager how successful a pickpocket might be but Karasuma-sensei has a strong, military air around him, and Gakushuu knows that muscles can be hidden under suits and cannot be determined solely by one’s stature. His stance is defensive, no doubt by being put out of his comfort zone - not only in the principal’s foreboding office but with Gakushuu’s unwanted presence, and something about him screams trained in martial arts. He’d never had prior incentive to search into the 3-E’s teachers backgrounds but now he wishes he had.
“-the trip,” Karasuma-sensei is saying. Gakushuu should be paying more attention, he’s there to listen in, after all. “The, um, students-”
Tap, tap, tap. What’s that? Gakushuu narrows down on the rhythmically moving object at the principal’s desk, the pen absently tapping at the edge of the table in his father’s hands. It’s not like the principal to fidget, not in any professional setting, at the very least. Gakushuu follows his father’s eyes but he’s just looking passively at Karasuma-sensei, who’s flipping through the folder.
“Section 4-B,” Karasuma-sensei says, and he looks back up. Gakushuu’s gaze snaps to the principal, who’s now nonchalantly flipping through his own copy of the folder, which was weird, Gakushuu thinks, it’s very unlikely for his father to not review information when he first gets any but wait for a prompt, and the folder itself doesn’t seem too particularly thick anyways, the principal could have glanced through it in a flash instead of spending time evaluating Karasuma-sensei’s reactions. Although amusing, was Gakushuu supposed to be watching him too? Could he have picked up information on 3-E like that? Many experiences from the principal were unknowingly lessons and Gakushuu is used to keeping his eye out for them.
Karasuma-sensei is now blinking back down on his page, mumbling something that even Gakushuu can’t hear, let alone his father from the far end of the table. The principal hasn’t commented on it to throw him off, he hates it when people mumble.
The principal is looking at Karasuma-sensei again… no, he’s flipping through the folder. “Section 5C?” He asks. What are they talking about again?
Karasuma-sensei is now looking at the principal. “Yes,” he says curtly, and there’s an awkward pause as he fiddles with the cuffs on his shirt sleeve.
Gakushuu quickly looks back at the principal. The pen is tapping idly again. Why is everyone fidgeting so much? Gakushuu gets restless when people get restless. Why are they restless?
“-the target,” Karasuma-sensei says, glancing surreptitiously at Gakushuu. They were talking in riddles and roundabouts because he was here, to avoid any chances of him picking up on anything. What was so secretive about class 3-E anyways, that he, as the student council president, typically in charge of making sure the needs of every one of his subjects - uh, peers - are fulfilled? He needs to know what they know to know what they want, right?
“Of course,” the principal is saying. What are they agreeing on? Tap, tap, tap, touch his sleeve, restless energy, creepy atmosphere, oh great, now Karasuma-sensei is touching his tie. Oh, it is getting hot in here, isn’t it? He’s loosening it.
The principal stretches his neck as well and touches his collar. Tap, tap, tap. “Section 3,” Karasuma-sensei says. He sounds uncomfortable, perhaps because it’s so warm in here, which was strange because the principal always kept his office freezing, both to unnerve people and because he was a cold-blooded man that functioned best in his natural habitat. Was he feeling hot, too?
“The budget is a little too tight, isn’t it,” the principal says.
“Tight,” Karasuma-sensei says. His fingers tug at his collar, exposing a little bit more of his neck and the white of his throat. Gakushuu watches the principal mirror that movement, fingers curling at the rim of his collar, and he doesn’t seem like he’s aware of it. Karasuma-sensei tugs again at his sleeve, probably a nervous quirk.
“I don’t think it’s… tight,” Karasuma-sensei says, voice slightly raspy. Does he need water? God, Gakushuu needs water. It’s so warm in here. “There are many logistics we need to fit into…”
“Fit into…” The principal echoes. Tap, tap, tap, loosen collar, sleeve touch, pen, folder, why aren’t they talking about anything useful? Why is it so fucking warm in here? So much fidgeting, this is so… unprofessional…
“Dismissed,” the principal says, gathering up the papers and stuffing them back into the folder in no particular order, which was even more strange because he should be immediately sorting them or going through them again, he barely glanced over at the words during their entire meeting, constantly staring at… Karasuma-sensei… who’s also holding the papers in what must be a haphazard way from how he walked in with them in neat piles and the impeccable way he’s dressed, tie looser than it should be acceptable with a suit like his. Karasuma-sensei bows stiffly and turns around, and Gakushuu turns to look at the principal-
-who was still staring at Karasuma-sensei,
oh my god-
“I need to g-leave,” Gakushuu chokes out, “go, I need to go,” startling both adults in the room but oh dear heavens Gakushuu needs to get out of this room and give them both space and he doesn’t care how un-council president-like he’s being right now, he cannot be in the same room any longer with them before they start
making out on the principal’s desk oh my god-
He ignores all manners and grace and slams the door hard, rattling it on his hinges as he leaves, but doubling back to make sure it’s firmly shut. Then he practically sprints down the hallway to the general waiting area and grabs a cup to fill it from the water dispenser, and downs it.
“You okay, honey?” Asks the nice receptionist lady whose somehow managed to stick with the principal’s - his father’s - insane ass from the start of Kunugigaoka’s management until now, whose always had a soft spot for Gakushuu and snuck him sweets when she thought his father wasn’t looking when he came to visit after his own elementary school lessons.
“No,” Gakushuu pants, and he cringes in the direction of the principal’s office. Sayami winces in true solidarity, no doubt missing the real point of Gakushuu’s panic. “There there,” she says, patting his arm like he’s a little kid again, but today Gakushuu lets it happen because he appreciates and needs the comfort. “It’s going to be alright.”
Alright? Gakushuu feels so... flustered... just being in proximity... of those two!
What the fuck was that?
Gakushuu: It's time to make a dignified, sophisticated, tactical retreat
Gakushuu: (Leaps out the window)
|
Laundry duty.
It was generally regarded as one of the worst assignments by the majority of Shinra’s cadet population. Cloud mostly agreed. It was backbreaking labour lugging giant piles of sheets, towels, and tablecloths to and from the machines. Folding them all was a pain, and Gaia help you if you got caught folding a fitted sheet wrong. Mrs Mason, who ran the laundry, was very particular about how fitted sheets were to be folded, and rolling them into a ball that was mostly smooth on the outside did not count.
But Cloud had a hope. No, a dream. No, a Plan. It was definitely a capital P Plan, and an excellent one at that. It would make all the laundry days worthwhile when it succeeded. When, not if.
Cadets, troopers, and the lower SOLDIER ranks were responsible for their personal laundry. Many a duel was fought among them over the crime of taking someone’s clothes out of the dryer early. The executives, however, as well as the First Class SOLDIERS could send their dirty laundry down and have it cleaned for them using the fancy washing machines and detergents that didn’t just beat the fabric into a state resembling cleanliness. Not all of the First Classes made use of the service. In fact, the majority rarely did. It was suspected that they feared rabid fans would abscond with their trousers, which was probably not an unfounded fear. But inevitably, they would get busy, and an order would come in requesting a pickup from one of them.
After nearly a year spent plotting to always position himself closest to Mrs Mason’s work station where the orders would come in, after getting into her good graces by being meticulous, never complaining, and bringing her occasional brownies, after proving his laundry skills beyond a doubt by getting all the red wine stains out of the ridiculous white suits Rufus Shinra insisted on wearing, his opportunity knocked.
Cloud answered its call with bells on. It was time. The wheels of The Plan were in motion.
“Mrs Mason,” he called. “An order just popped up. Looks like from a First.” He pointed to her computer monitor where he could clearly see not just that it was from a First, but from one particular First.
“Thanks, luv.” She trundled over, looked at the monitor, and swore.
“What is it?” he asked innocently. “Can I help?”
“Tch, well, you can go pick it up, at least. Here. He says he’s left it at the door.” She scrawled the apartment number on a scrap of paper and handed it to him. “I hate cleaning leather,” she grumbled under her breath as Cloud turned away.
Cloud’s smile widened at her words. All according to The Plan.
He fought to contain his desire to skip to the elevators and ultimately failed, but ignored the sniggers from the other cadets. Today, finally, laundry duty would be Worth It.
The Holy Grail of laundry baskets awaited him outside apartment 2601. Black leather pants. Black leather boots. Black leather jacket, complete with chest straps. All covered in mud, blood, and bits of … stuff. The Holy Grail was extremely stinky. No matter. That made The Plan even more likely to work. For all her devotion to making things clean, Mrs Mason always gave the impression that she really didn’t like it when they came in dirty.
The look of horror on her face when Cloud arrived back downstairs with his prize proved his theory.
“What did he do?” she lamented. “This will take all day!”
“I can he—do it.” Cloud’s heart stuttered as he almost said help. Help implied doing only part of the task. Help implied having to choose between jacket, boots, and pants. He knew that, despite how much work it would be, he could never live with himself if he threw away two thirds of what might be his only opportunity. Or even one third.
“Yer a sweetheart, luv, but Sephiroth’s mighty particular about how his gear gets cleaned. Can’t just toss leather in the wash.”
Cloud Strife wasn’t born yesterday, and he was no fool. He knew that one does not simply plot to do First Class Sephiroth’s laundry without knowing how to care for leather. The man was a walking tannery! He had done his research. “I know, ma’am. I can clean leather really well. I used to work on a chocobo ranch, and their tack has to be kept in perfect condition or it damages their feathers. I’ve had lots of practice.”
Ifrit take him. He was going to hell for telling such bold lies to someone as nice as Mrs Mason. The closest he’d ever been to a chocobo or its tack was at the parade held for President Shinra’s birthday. But he had done his research! He studied all sorts of methods and researched the best materials to use. His bunkmates probably thought he had a leather fetish. Perhaps he did, but only if it had been worn by a particular man. He didn’t have the practical experience, but he was sure he could do it.
Mrs Mason looked at him uncertainly, then looked back at the basket. “Well, if you insist. But call for me if you need help. The supplies are in the side room there.”
Beaming from ear to ear, Cloud hurried off to the room she had pointed out. More than just a supply room, it was a leather-cleaning sanctuary. The cupboards held all the different types of soaps and oils he’d read about. There were also brushes in all sizes, and stacks of soft cloths and sponges. Best of all, there was a big table where he could work on the items. He could be all alone in peace and quiet with Sephiroth’s clothing. And unlike Sephiroth’s clothing with Sephiroth inside, he didn’t have to fear getting stabbed.
He started by hauling everything to a big sink, where he wiped off the filth to the best of his ability, then attacked it with a soft bristle brush to make sure he got into all the crevices. Like Mrs Mason, he couldn’t help but wonder just what the heck had happened. His best guess was that Sephiroth had been swallowed whole by a morbol and he cut his way out. Even if it wasn’t totally gross, Cloud sympathized with not wanting to do laundry after a day like that. Sephiroth had probably stripped off his clothes, dumped them in the basket, and gone straight into the shower. He was probably still in it.
Imagining that passed the time while he got everything to a state where he could start actually cleaning it. The sink was left a disgusting mess. He rinsed it out a bit, but decided that more than that could be someone else’s problem. There was important work to do. He filled a bowl of warm soapy water and began to carefully clean each piece, rinsing the cloth and changing the water regularly. He began with the boots, then the jacket, leaving the pants for last. While plain, they were, in his opinion, the best part of the uniform. So near to … interesting places.
It took ages to get to them, and when he did, he shook them out and imagined that perfect ass filling out the back. He tried to avoid imagining the front side getting filled out, as he had an important job to do and couldn’t get too distracted. As he shook them, something fell out of the left leg.
He stared stupidly for several seconds at the red piece of fabric, then realization dawned on him. Red lace panties had fallen out of Sephiroth’s pants. His heart broke more than a little when faced with cold, hard evidence of the general’s heterosexuality. As long as there had been no proof, he had held out hope, but seeing them there, lying seductively on the floor, it was like a naked woman had climbed out of the pants, all boobs and … other bits he didn’t have.
Wait.
They had fallen out of the actual pants, not a pocket or something. They had been caught in the leg the same way Cloud’s boxers sometimes got caught if he was in a hurry and taking both pants and boxers off at the same time. Like one would be if they were covered in morbol yuck and wanting to get clean as soon as possible.
Sephiroth had been wearing the panties.
To his credit, Cloud contained his excited shriek to a small meeping sound. While wearing lingerie wasn’t in direct conflict with the possibility of being heterosexual, his heart was able to glue itself back together now that the door to his wildest fantasies was no longer welded shut.
But what was he supposed to do? The Plan had not accounted for panties. Or undergarments of any sort. Never, in all his research into what the First Classes sent down to be laundered, had undergarments been involved. He was absolutely certain they hadn’t been intentionally included. Terrible people might do terrible things with the knowledge. It could be a PR disaster. They might do terrible things to the artifact itself. Defile them, even. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
Cloud Strife was not a terrible person. As he bent and picked them up, being careful of the lace, he was a very tempted person, but he had his morals. He resisted the urge to sniff them. That, he insisted to himself, was gross. And a violation of Sephiroth’s privacy. No, he would do his job and wash them, then return them.
He got a second bowl and spent a while looking for the gentlest soap in the wide selection. There was one that said ‘for delicates’ and had a lavender scent. That would probably be appropriate. He wondered if Scarlet ever sent her things to be washed. With a final heroic effort to resist temptation, he placed the panties in the nice-smelling soapy water, swooshed them around, and left them to soak while he turned back to the pants. He was a professional.
When the prescribed amount of time for soaking was up, Cloud swooshed them again, gave the cotton panel on the inside a little scrub against itself, and rinsed them out thoroughly. He pressed them between two cloths to soak up the excess water, then hung them on the drying rack next to a little heating unit.
As he carefully rubbed oil into the freshly cleaned leather, Cloud let his imagination wander. Did Sephiroth wear women’s underwear often? Did he wear anything on top, or just the panties? He supposed it would be difficult with the open coat. Did he own a thong? Was it comfortable?
Another meep escaped him when Mrs Mason barged in to inspect his work. She said to make sure he took care around the seams and fortunately noticed neither the panties, nor his boner. He would take Sephiroth’s secret to his grave, even if he had to take out Mrs Mason to keep it.
Objectively, Cloud knew it had taken hours and that it hadn’t been easy work. But as he also knew that this would be as close as he ever got to Sephiroth, it felt like far too soon when he wiped away the last of the excess oil and made sure everything was spotless. His PHS weighed heavy in his pocket, and temptation rose its ugly head again. A picture had been part of The Plan. It wasn’t a terrible thing to take a picture of his hard work as proof of how well he had done the job. But he wanted, so badly, to include all the pieces he had cleaned.
One without, he decided, that he could brag about to his bunkmates. And one with, that would stay hidden and secret and no one would ever, ever find out. He laid the leather pieces out on the table, arranged like they would be worn, and stood on a chair to snap a picture. He then took the panties and, after one more internal debate, opened the pants and carefully placed the panties flat inside. He let the red lace peek out at the hips, and left the crotch open. His face felt like it was probably the same shade of red as he quickly took one more picture.
It didn’t seem safe to simply put the panties into the pile of cleaned and folded clothes. Mrs Mason might decide to inspect them, and if he just hid them between the pants and jacket, she could pick them up and easily discover Sephiroth’s secret. After some dithering, he decided that the way he had taken the picture was probably safest. He could fold them into the pants, and they’d be much more difficult to find that way. He very carefully laid them out again, making sure they were well tucked away, and folded up the pants. Everything went back into a clean laundry basket, and he carried it out to Mrs Mason.
“All done, ma’am.”
She set down the four massive jugs of detergent she was carrying—two in each hand—and came over. “Wow, good work, luv.” She gave the coat a test sniff. “Colour me impressed. Not a hint of whatever that was.”
“I’m assuming morbol,” Cloud said. “They’re really horrible.”
“Well, I appreciate the help. I’d still be in there retching if you hadn’t stepped up. Take them back to the general—don’t just leave them at the door unless he’s not home—then call it a day.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Cloud hoisted the basket up and headed for the elevators again.
A split second after he rang the doorbell of apartment 2601, a horrifying realization came crashing down on him. Sephiroth’s panties were deliberately folded in to his pants. And he was personally delivering them. Sephiroth would see him, he would find his panties, and he would know that Cloud knew.
There were footsteps approaching. Did he have time to put down the basket and flee for his life? The door clicked. His mouth went dry. Black spots swam before his eyes.
“Yes? Ah, the laundry. Thank you, Cadet … Strife.” Sephiroth leaned in to read his name badge as he took the basket out of Cloud’s hands. “I do apologize for the state they were in.”
“No—no problem, sir,” he squeaked.
“Well, I appreciate the prompt turnaround. Thanks again.”
The door closed, and Cloud sprinted to the elevators. Not that that would save him. Sephiroth had seen his name.
Since it was his last night on Gaia, Cloud felt no guilt for waiting until everyone in his bunk was asleep, then opening the photos folder on his PHS and giving himself some quality attention to thoughts of Sephiroth in panties. Despite his looming death, he slept very well that night.
***
Death came for him on his way to the bathroom during his break between PT and guard duty. In a fit of extreme foolishness, he had elected to forgo the convenient washrooms and their long lines, and made the detour to a more out-of-the-way set. Where he was promptly snatched up and slammed against the wall. Leather-encased fingers curled around his throat.
“Who have you told?” The hiss in his ear and the hot breath that accompanied it had Cloud trembling, not just in fear. Long locks of silver fell over him, brushing his bare arms.
“Told? No one! I swear! I’d never!”
The fingers loosened just enough so he could inhale a desperate gasp.
“And exactly what haven’t you told anyone?”
Glowing green eyes met his, and Cloud’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “That you … that you …”
“That I?”
Cloud became a believer in demonic possession. It was the only explanation for why his hand reached out. There was a tiny gap between the waist of Sephiroth’s pants and his stomach guard. The tiniest sliver of skin showed, and Cloud’s fingers went straight for it entirely of their own accord. Sephiroth didn’t move as they tugged down, ever so slightly. Exposing …
Blood rushed straight from his head to his cock. He really was wearing them. A small part of him had wondered if it had just been his imagination getting away from him, but there it was. A tiny glimpse of red under the black leather. The hand around his neck was the only thing that kept him from sliding down the wall in a dead faint.
Sephiroth very deliberately looked down, taking in the bulge in Cloud’s fatigues. He looked back up into his eyes, showing no signs of embarrassment. “Do you like that, cadet? Do you like the thought of your general wearing women’s underwear? Does it turn you on?”
Cloud tried to answer, but his brain forgot how to form words until Sephiroth reminded him by pulling him away from the wall and slamming him back into it.
“Answer me, Cloud Strife.”
“Yes,” he managed to say. Oh, Gaia, he knew his full name.
Sephiroth’s free hand fumbled around Cloud’s legs. For a brief, wonderfully terrifying moment, he thought he was being groped. He bit his lip to hold back his cry of disappointment when Sephiroth pulled his PHS out of his pocket instead.
“Unlock it.”
With shaking hands, Cloud unlocked the phone and handed it back. A few seconds later, he was quite certain that his memento was gone forever. Probably the tamer one too.
“I swear, I’d never tell anyone. I wouldn’t do that to you. That’s why I hid them in the pants. So no one would accidentally see. I wasn’t trying to be a perv or threaten you or anything.”
“Not trying to be a perv?” Pale eyebrows rose in disbelief, and they both looked down again at his raging hard-on.
“Well, I wasn’t trying to threaten you.”
Sephiroth gave a considering hum. “I suppose I should at least be grateful that you didn’t decide to take and sell them, or return them filled with your … emissions. And if you had gone running to someone with your story right away, the Silver Elite would already be melting down over it. Still, even without proof, if you decide to spread this around, it could be harmful to my image. I think I am owed some sort of guarantee that you won’t speak.”
“Of—of course, sir. What can I do?” He recalled there was some sort of paper a person could sign. A non-dis-something or other that meant they’d be in big trouble if they talked.
Sephiroth stared at him in silence for several very long, very arousing moments. He was so close. He could smell the oil he had worked into the leather yesterday. He could smell his shampoo. Given enough time, he was sure he’d be able to identify all thirteen scents.
“Wait here,” he eventually said. “Leave and I will make you regret every choice in your life that led up to this moment.”
He was late for guard duty by now, but Cloud just nodded. Legal documents about underwear preferences probably weren’t something Shinra kept on hand.
Surprisingly, it only took about ten minutes before Sephiroth returned looking a lot less angry and a lot more relaxed. He held out something that was hidden in his hand. “Put them on.”
“Sir?”
His head jerked towards the men’s toilets. “Go put them on.”
Cloud held out his hand with no small amount of trepidation. Into it dropped a plastic bag. Inside the bag was red lace.
Tit for tat?
It was better than being murdered.
He slid into a stall and got out of his pants. The reason for the plastic bag became apparent as soon as he opened it, and Cloud nearly came untouched, right there in the stall. There was cum on them. Warm cum. Soaking into the fabric, staining it with white. Any claims he might have had at not being a pervert vanished when he didn’t hesitate to very carefully remove them from the bag, find the waistband, and slip them on before they got cold.
Holy shit.
It was a good thing that Sephiroth was bigger than him, otherwise he’d never have been able to fit his erection into the panties without damaging the elastic. He heard the door to the bathroom push open, then heavy boots on the tiles.
“Did you fall in?”
“No, sir, I just … they’re on, but what do you want me to do now?”
“Get dressed and go about your day. You might come to realize why I enjoy them.”
He had almost expected Sephiroth to order him out of the stall so he could take his picture to blackmail him. Instead he wanted him to just wear his cum-soaked panties all day? Cloud decided to not question how very turned on the thought of doing just that made him. He grabbed his fatigues and started pulling them on again when a shadow blocked the overhead light.
“And you still have a little problem, I see.” Sephiroth said as he looked down at him, apparently standing on the toilet in the next stall. He flushed, and the man chuckled. “All right, not that little. But I like it. Keep it that way for me, would you?”
“Keep it?” He stilled with one leg in his pants, one leg out, balancing on his boot tops so he wasn’t standing directly on the floor.
“Yes.” Sephiroth’s smirk was absolutely villainous. “Whenever you get a chance today, I want you to touch yourself. Do not come, but stay aroused. Think of me, think of what you’re wearing, and think of why they’re wet. Can you do that for me?”
“Ye—yes, sir.”
“What a good boy,” Sephiroth all but purred. Cloud lost his balance and sagged against the wall of his stall. He belatedly realized that the position left him fully exposed to Sephiroth’s gaze, but the way he was looking at him made him feel like for some bizarre reason, his idol was very much appreciating the view. His eyes didn’t shift from it as he pointed to the boxers Cloud had been hanging on to while he figured out what to do with them. “I’ll take those.”
He wordlessly handed them over. At least they were a decent-looking pair.
“Come to my apartment tonight for a hostage exchange. 23 hundred. You remember where it is?”
“Yes, sir.” He would never, in his life, forget where General Sephiroth’s personal apartment was located.
“Good boy. Don’t be late.” Sephiroth jumped down from the toilet, then the door was swinging shut behind him.
Cloud fumbled about getting his clothes back on, hardly able to believe that his murder had somehow turned into this.
The dressing down he got for being late went right over his head. His mind was fully occupied with wondering how badly he was blushing and how obvious his erection was. Were his pants thick enough to keep things … contained? Were they dark enough to hide it if they weren’t? How soon could he get a chance to follow his instructions?
“Get to it, Strife!”
Cloud gave his head a shake and jogged off in the direction the sergeant was pointing, heading for the tower lobby. Guard duty. Right. He could do that. There was a missing person at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the second-floor lounge. Hoping it was where he had been told to be, he slid into place. Eyes forward, rifle shouldered. Cock at attention. It was going to be a long day. |
Temptation. That was the point of Las Vegas, right? And Klaus was never one to deny his vices.
Once he exited his final ride, which dropped him off at Las Vegas Boulevard, “The Strip” he quickly learned it was called, he was captivated. His senses were instantly bombarded. Music. People talking. Conversations overlapping. Lights. Huge store names in bright lights. Hard Rock Cafe. Flamingo. Excalibur’s castle illuminating the street. On the wind there was the familiar smell of pot. There were still so many people out too, even with it being 1 am and all. It instantly seemed to be his kind of city. Klaus swayed a little and leaned on the closest car he could find. It was a good thing he was high, otherwise he would never have been able to take it all in.
The car he had been leaning on took off without warning, making Klaus lose his balance. Laughing a little, Klaus noncommittally gave the driver the bird as he pulled out the note out of his pocket again.
Klaus,
Be at Binion’s. Las Vegas. Thursday, 2:00 am latest.
Rest assured, your brother will be killed if you are not.
Just you.
Binion’s.
Klaus quickly set to looking for a map of The Strip. His final driver had said the gambling hall was only a 20 minute walk from where he was, but he needed to be sure. Time was getting close and he wasn’t about to make a mistake now. Shit, he didn’t even know what to do once he even got there. Pushing his rising anxiety down, trying to quiet his mind, he looked down at his watch again.
It’s always best to stay numb.
Klaus did a scan of his surroundings. Maybe he could just ask someone. There were definitely plenty of options. Then he spotted a lovely looking couple posing in front of a giant “Hell’s Kitchen” sign. The man was clearly struggling with his camera. Klaus thought it was adorable. After a few more moments of watching, he approached them.
“I can take your picture, if you want.” Klaus offered, putting on the most unassuming demeanor he could manage.
“Oh, could you?” The woman asked. “We would appreciate it!”
Once the camera was in his grip, Klaus quickly lined it up and haphazardly snapped a photo. Then, thinking twice, he brought it back up and counted to three before taking a second, better one.
See, I do have a heart. He thought to no one in particular.
Handing the camera back to the couple, Klaus worked to maintain is relaxed composure as his nerves began to act up again. “Would you happen to know where Binion’s is?”
“Binion’s?” The woman wondered. “No dear, I don’t think we do. Do we?”
“Not that I know of. There are so many popular places around here.”
What a waste of a good deed.
“We accidentally both grabbed a map though. We only need one.” The man handed off a brochure over to Klaus. “You can have it.”
Klaus almost cried. “Thank you!” The woman smiled and the three of them waved their goodbyes as he took off down The Strip with his newfound sense of direction.
_________
Anywhere else and it would have been extremely impressive, but in the heart of Las Vegas, Binion’s was almost lost in all of the commotion and the sea of flashing attractions. He liked the big B above the entrance. It and the color scheme reminded him of the Boomerang channel that he and his siblings used to watch when they were kids.Courage the Cowardly Dog was always his favorite, but for a different reason than his brothers and sisters. They all thought Courage was funny when he jumped around and made a fool of himself. Klaus thought it was really sad that no one believed him when he saw all of those scary things.
Talk about projection. And speaking of defense mechanisms...
Klaus pulled out his last bit of narcotics he had bummed off of some stranger with 20 bucks he had just pickpocketed off of some man on The Strip. He had been too caught up watching some fountain show to even notice. It was enough for a bit of a booster.
“Do you really think you should be getting high right now?” Ben chided.
“You just wish you could have some too.” Klaus sniffed. “Besides, it’s like you said. Gotta be fully charged before walking into battle.”
“Someday you’re going to be so full of that crap you won’t be able to see me anymore.”
“Hey. Don’t even joke about that.” Klaus reprimanded. “I’m glad to have back-up.”
_________
Klaus had not made it 10 minutes into the building before shit hit the fan.
Upon arriving, the first thing he saw was a giant casino, filled with slots and tables. In the back, there was a small table with a sign that said “Reserved. K.H.” Klaus probably wouldn’t have noticed it amongst all of the glitz and glamour of casino living, but he recognized the handwriting instantly. It matched his note and he had made a beeline to it.
Behind the reservation sign was a small envelope. He gave Ben a confused look and started to open it, figuring there would be instructions inside. Instead, when he lifted the flap, a burst of something light shot right at his face. Klaus was an expert at downing foreign substances and he instantly recognized the feeling.
Klaus coughed, sending the particles further into his system. Shit.
“Hey!” Ben had shouted, trying to get his attention, but it was too late. Klaus didn’t have a chance to turn around before the powder knocked him out cold and the last thing he felt were arms catching him as he fell backwards.
It took his mind a full 30 seconds to start working when he woke up again. The first thing he became aware of was the banging. God, his head hurt. Klaus hissed as he tried to lift his head up, which didn’t work the first time. It seemed unnaturally heavy and he started to feel nauseous the moment he tried. Letting his head fall back again, it smacked into something hard, making his mind swim. A shaky breath rippled through him as he braced himself to try again. Grimacing, he reached up to touch the side that was throbbing, only to receive his second surprise of the evening. Thick rope tugged at his wrists and stopped his arms short. Confused, he gave another light tug. Then another, the dread tightening in his stomach. He tried to kick his legs, to see if he could move them at all. The answer was no.
“Ben?” Klaus called out, his voice trembling.
No answer.
The place looked like a mess. It was clear he was in a hotel room, but it was equally clear that no one had been around to clean up in quite some time. That, or management was really bad at hiring room service. Klaus knew it was probably the first option.
He also had a fair guess for where he was. The brochure that contained the map of Las Vegas Boulevard had brief descriptions of the attractions. Apparently, the Binion’s people know and love today is attached to a tower of abandoned hotel floors, which meant that he shouldn’t be expecting visitors to stumble onto him and help.
“Great back-up, buddy.” Klaus tried again, feeling the alarm growing stronger at the silence.
A creak alerted him to a presence. His first thought was relief. That Ben was there, but the rational side of him knew that Ben couldn’t make that kind of noise. It had to be someone with a physical body.
Without warning, a light turned on, hitting his unprepared eyes and a wave of pain coursed through his brain. It felt like a migraine, but with what he presumed was a head injury, it felt ten times worse. After a few seconds, he slowly coaxed his eyes open to find two men standing in front of him.
One of the men dropped something onto his lap. It was a poster of he and his siblings in the Umbrella Academy get-ups. A pretty old one too. They all looked like they were maybe 12. Looking at their pictures provoked a stirring in his gut. The dread of not knowing what was happening made their absence almost overwhelming. They may not have been the closest of family, but Klaus did love them in his own way and he wanted nothing more than for them to come storming in to rescue him. He quickly scanned the familiar faces. Ben, Allison, Luther, Five, Diego...
Diego.
Klaus almost let out a sob.
Keep your head! Keep your head!
“We need you to get in contact with someone for us.”
The gruff voice snapped him back into attention. Klaus quickly collected himself before raising his head to meet their gaze. With a smile he said, “Geez, boys. You could have done that with any ol’ phone. There’s no need for a big scene--”
“Not that kind of contact.”
Klaus’ blood ran cold, knowing exactly what they wanted.
“Well, chaps. I’m going to be honest with you since you’ve been so open thus far.” Klaus quipped. “You clearly know who I am. Your poster proves that, but I think you hit a little too hard and knocked the necromancy right out of me.”
Klaus flinched as one of the men lunged at him, his hand coiling around around Klaus’ neck and slightly raising him out of the chair he was bound to. After hiding the instinctual fear, Klaus gave the man a quick smirk, ready to comment on his arousal level as soon as he let up, but the man just smiled back at him and began to squeeze tighter. Klaus felt a dull pop and when the man didn’t let up, he started to panic. The chair scraped at the ground as his hands fought against the rope, desperately trying to stop the attack.
It felt like a lifetime before the man threw Klaus back into the chair.
After giving him a second to catch his breath, the man pulled out a slip of paper with a single name on it. Daniel Gillepse. “We need you to get in contact with this person.”
“Charlie. Can I call you Charlie?” Klaus asked mockingly.
The other man buried his hands into Klaus’ black curls, which were drenched in sweat by this point, and yanked back mercilessly, making Klaus hiss.
“And you’ll be Johnny.“ Klaus pressed through gritted teeth. “You…” Klaus was cut off as Johnny pulled back harder, making it feel like his hair was going to be ripped out. “You look like a Johnny.”
Johnny threw Klaus’ head forward. Once the grip was released, Klaus felt the chair tip and the weight went past the point of coming backwards. Instinctually, Klaus tried brace himself with his arms and legs, but the restraints held tight. The force would have sent him to the floor if Charlie hadn’t caught the back of the chair first.
Pulling him back upright, he was shown the paper again. “Do it NOW.”
Klaus sighed. “Look, I would love nothing more than to pull your boss away from his early lunch in Hell for a quick meeting, but I can’t exactly do that.”
I literally can’t give them what they want.
The realization hit him hard. His family knew that he had never been able to have that much control over his rendezvouses with the undead, and the second he learned that drugs kept the spirits at bay, he abandoned his attempts at interacting with them in favor of shutting them out completely. Accompanying the realization came spark of fear that was made clear on Klaus’ face before he was able to stifle it, and he knew that they saw it.
“I’m sorry I’m being smart. Force of habit you know?” Klaus pleaded, his voice getting more and more shrill. He gave a distraught laugh, “I literally have NO idea how to summon a… a specific person!”
Distressed, Klaus trained his gaze on Johnny as the man made his way behind him until he couldn’t turn his head any farther. When he returned to look at Charlie, the man had a knife in his grip and a new smile on his face.
“No, no, no, no. I promise I’m telling you the truth!” Klaus’ voice rose as Charlie got closer. “Why… Why would I keep you from talking to him? I have no reason to!”
Klaus jumped as Johnny gripped him from behind, holding his shoulders in place. Charlie kneeled down between Klaus’ legs, forcing them to be spread wider, which made Klaus catch his breath. A knowing sneer flashed across the man’s face. They both knew exactly what had passed through Klaus’ mind.
"Don't you worry your pretty head. That's more my pal's scene." he grinned.
While staring directly at Klaus, Charlie began to work. He made quick work of Klaus’ right pant leg, which he cut apart in seconds. The knife then glided down his thigh, a thin trail of blood following in its path. The gentle brush stung more than if they had just gotten it over with and stabbed him. It was clear that they had as much time as they needed to do whatever it is they wanted to him, and he couldn’t stop it.
You’re going to have to fake it.
“Okay!” Klaus practically begged.
Charlie stayed in place, clearly not ready to call the fun short. Instead, he paused his cutting where it was, but kept the knife there as if to remind Klaus of what he was willing to do.
“You got him yet?”
“I’m trying!”
Ben. Where are you!?
Klaus waited until he thought it was a convincing amount of time.
“I think I’m getting something…”
He’d watched enough psychic shows to see how it’s done. Be vague and let them give you all you need to know. Then sell it.
“Prove it.”
“How?” Klaus sighed.
“What does he look like?”
Klaus closed his eyes, as if in deep thought. “He’s… difficult to hear, but he looks…” He paused to try to come up with something convincing, “...Upset?”
That earned him a smack to the head from Johnny.
“That isn’t what he asked you, you little shit. He asked you ‘What. Does. He. Look. Like?’”
“You don’t see, like, GHOST ghosts. It’s more like a feeling of someone.”
One man shot the other a look of amused disbelief and the other chuckled.
“Like I don’t see what they look like in life, but the soul that the body contained.” Klaus recovered. God, he was really pulling this out of his ass.
“What’s he upset about?” Johnny asked skeptically. “His kid?”
“I mean, he did just get screwed over by her, didn’t he?” Charlie added.
“Yes. Yes!” Klaus scrambled, his eyes lighting up at the bite. He could do this. “Oh, that was the first thing he mentioned.”
Charlie sneered, his lips turning into a wicked smile, as if exactly what he had been wanting to happen had just occurred. Klaus began to panic as the man shifted.
““He doesn’t have a kid.” Charlie laughed, looking absolutely sinister. “Hold him still.”
Johnny’s grip promptly became crushing. Anticipating the blow to follow, Klaus squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could.
He thought he heard himself make a noise, but it sounded as if it were distant. Something that hadn’t come from him at all. A gasp, but in slow motion, as if traveling through a thick screen. But he suddenly felt warm. Did he… Did he just piss himself?
“Oh god.” Klaus whimpered, daring to look down at what had happened. Dread slowly took over as he looked at the fresh blood pulsing from his thigh. The guy hadn’t even taken the knife out. The handle, now laced with red, jerked with each pained breath Klaus tried to take. Sick fuck sickfuck sickfuck!
The searing pain blazed through his entire body as he threw his head back in agony. The last ounce of air left in him was pushed out, leaving himself completely empty. He tried to breathe, but his body wouldn’t let any air get in. Each desperate slip of air that he managed to get in was cut off by his throat, which had seized up to the point nothing could get through. His hands gripped the arms of the chair as lights started to fill his vision.
“Klaus, you have to breathe.” Ben urged from over Charlie’s shoulder.
“Ben!” Klaus sobbed. Oh god thank you!
“Breathe!”
“I.... I....I’m t...rying…” Klaus gasped between shallow attempts of getting air to his lungs.
His cheek stung with a swift slap and any progress on his breathing that he had made was quickly dashed. “You listen, you piece of shit. I don’t want to hear a damn word from you unless it’s what we want to hear. Got it? ” Charlie growled.
“Breathe, Klaus! Please!”
Klaus stifled a response, terrified of what would be done to him if he spoke again. Instead he nodded, hoping Ben would understand that he was responding to him and not Charlie. That he was listening.
His captors seemed to realize that Klaus was nearing a breaking point and gave him a few minutes to regain his breath. Klaus would have been embarrassed by his display of utter helplessness if he wasn’t so caught up in trying to keep his head above water. Slowly, the terror that had been holding his lungs hostage released its hold and oxygen finally started to enter his starved body again.
“Now, are we going to try this again?” Charlie taunted, his mouth close enough to Klaus’ face that he could feel the heat from his breath.
Sobbing, Klaus looked at the name again.
“Please… I swear I can’t do it.”
Charlie put his finger in the open wound and twisted. Hard. |
Subsets and Splits