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elinor-taylor · 1 year

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Green Skulls

By the time Leddy arrived on foot at the meeting tree, the others were already there. How she wanted to fly. How much easier that would be. But then they'd know, and it would cause a lot more problems than it solved. Like being banished, or tried for war crimes, or being shipped off north where she'd be dealt with according.

The group shifted in such a way as to make room for her to sidle through, and she took her seat next to a warm glowing oil lamp and waited for the mutterings to subside.

'I've spoken with the scout,' she said, once attention had turned to the business at hand. 'Things are happening as we suspected they might. He says time is short.'

One among the group cleared his throat. Wes was a lithe looking young 'un, green under his fingernails from a day spent scratching tags into bark.

Leddy signalled for him to speak.

'Did the scout get our messages?' he said.

'Yes. He saw the carvings and knows where they lead. However, he doesn't yet understand what it is he needs to do, nor was he able to follow the trail on this occasion.'

A ripple of groans and tuts went through the group.

'I know, I know. He can't help but need air. Would you rather we get him to the city and he dies before he can complete the task?'

Some appeared to consider the question.

Leddy sighed and rolled her head back. 'No,' she reminded them. 'We wouldn't. If he's able to help us, then we must first help him, yes?'

This at least was met by mumbles and nods of resignation.

Many in the hollow couldn't recall the vibrant hub that was Diamond in the days of Queen Janet. When you could barely hop from one tree to the next without stumbling across a West gate person, making their way to or from Must.

All they knew was what came after. They had no affinity with the people and certainly no loyalty to them. This notion of accommodating the biggun to achieve their aims was hard to swallow, but they were coming to understand that one thing wasn't to be without the other.

'We cannot do this without a person,' Leddy continued. 'One we can trust, or at the very least believe has similar interests to our own. And he, whether you like it or not, is probably our best and last shot. The South is coming, and soon. We'd better hope the scout returns before they do.'

Pappy Skylark leaned forward through the others from where he'd been quietly listening. Leddy hadn't even realised he was there until he spoke.

'What is this man to us, then, Cerulean?' he said. 'If he can't survive when the air is thick, then what good is he? What if he gives us away before he does his part? Surely we haven't time to babysit the vulnerable, big as he may be?'

'Speaking of which,' said another. 'What of the king?'

'What of him?' Leddy said.

'He has to be held accountable. Or are you proposing an amnesty for all bigguns, regardless of guilt?'

This was followed by a rousing chorus of cheers and nods, and Aye, that's rights, from certain elements within the crowd. Not all joined in, but enough to make Leddy nervous. Their commitment was waning. She could feel it.

Some were struggling to hold onto the vision that togetherness was the solution. They were leaning more towards vengeance, which Leddy knew from bitter experience was no kind of way out. On the contrary, it would almost certainly drive what was left of the Faretheewell folks to their deaths. And fast.

She was about to counter the uproar, though how she didnt know, when Pappy came to her defence.

'Pipe down, the lot a ya,' he said.

The hollow quietened, and Leddy was grateful. She hid her weariness, but she had nothing left for battling those supposedly on the same side.

'Look,' Pappy said, as all eyes turned to face him. 'I hear your anxieties, and I know you're worried for yourselves and your young 'uns, too. Believe me, I understand. You'll be aware - well, most of you, anyways - that I lost my girls to the hummer campaigns before some here were even born.'

Quiet turned to breath-held silence.

'I know how it feels when the worst happens. Ain't much more them buzzards can do to me than what they already did. So I got nothin' to lose.'

'What's your point, old 'un?' a young recruit with an inflated sense of self-importance piped up.

'My point is this, child,' Pappy said. 'They only win if we let 'em. They can come for us, might even kill every last one of us.'

There came gasps from mothers whose little 'uns looked suddenly horrified.

'I'm sorry, not gonna shine yer shit. They might. But we don't make it easy. Ya hear? We catch in their teeth, make 'em choke on our bones. We give those filthy scumlickers bellyache. We tell 'em, Hey! If you want our bodies, our magic, you gotta come get 'em. But what they don't get is this.'

Pappy tapped his chest.

'Don't know about you, but I'll be ready. And I sure as stink won't be laying down on a platter for 'em, a berry for a garnish. No, sir. And if our friend Cerulean here reckons this biggun fella can help, then I'll be gosh-darned if I ain't gonna do everything in my power to see he gets what he needs to finish it. Try at least. We fight together, child, or not at all. Because if we don't, they win.'

Pappy slowly sat himself back down. 'That,' he said, his eyes seeming to pierce clean through the young recruit, 'is my point.'

Leddy suppressed a smile.

It was then that a sudden flicker, a bothering of the light from an oil lamp in the doorway, made the group look to see who or what had cast this new shadow. Hovering there was the gate watcher, Broadleaf. She dropped herself down and in through the gaping arch of the tree trunk, and by the furrow of her brow, she was none too impressed by what she saw.

Leddy stood, ready to do damage control.

'What happened to keeping together?' Broadleaf said. 'And no secrets among hollows? How long, Cerulean?'

'It's not-' Pappy tried to intervene.

'Don't FUCKING lie to me.' Broadleaf pointed a sharp finger on an outstretched arm at the older fairy to her side, while not taking her eyes from those of Leddy Rickett.

Mothers covered little ears at the language.

'Now, listen to me, young 'un,' Pappy said.

'It's okay,' Leddy interrupted. 'She has a right to be angry. Let her say her piece.'

Broadleaf lowered her arm, but the snarl on her lips that masqueraded as a smile, the slow shake of her head, captured her rage quite clearly for all to see.

Leddy waited. She wasn't about to tell the Faretheewell native how to feel or what to think, having seen, and in many cases partaken in, the ruin of hollows such as hers. Only she, Leddy, an ex-hummer, could possibly understand the devastation this poor fairy had observed and to what length such trauma had affected her.

'You promised me, Cerulean. When you took me in, dragged me a hundred damned heifer's lengths from my burning home, from my dead fucking family, Cerulean, you promised I would never again see the likes of what they did.'

Enough was enough for the mothers, who, without saying a word, agreed among themselves that it was time to take the children home to bed. They slipped out into the night with the little ones in crooks of arms or snoozing over shoulders. Some older babies wanted to stay, preferring this unexpected hullabaloo to the duller alternative. But their protestations went unheeded, and they were carried away, nonetheless.

'I know what you're up to,' Broadleaf said, once the bustle of movement settled, leaving only eight or ten of them standing inside the tree. She hadn't taken her gaze from Leddy the whole time.

Leddy felt a wave of fear at those words: I know what you're up to. She chose not to jump in. Let the fairy speak, she thought. See where this is going. It was a rare situation that could be made worse by keeping your mouth shut.

'I get it. You want to lead. To take over old Skylark, here's position?'

Pappy didn't respond. He too wanted to know where this rant was headed.

'So you play up the whole wingless angle, like you don't know that'll remind him of his dead daughter. How stupid do you think we are?'

One of the gatherers attempted to step in to defend against the accusations, but Pappy held him back.

'You're dragging us into a fight,' Broadleaf went on. 'That ends up with us dangling by our feet from hooks, drying over coals for jerky, with our magic stripped and harvested and used against us. The whole damn colony. Is that what you want?

'Do you know why I'm here, Cerulean? I followed Pappy so I could report back to you about developments at the gate. But I don't suppose that matters, does it? Did it ever? Or did you only send us there to get us out of the way, so you could hold your little meetings, and plot your little plots, while the rest of us flutter about doing as we're told?

'Well, you know what? Fuck you, Cerulean. In fact, no. I take that back. Fuck all of you. You want to kill off the last of Faretheewell? Guide us to the doors of our enemies? Go ahead. Just don't expect me to be there when you do.'

Broadleaf took to the air. 'Oh, and just so I've played my part in this charade,' she said. 'The girl's back.'

'The girl?' Leddy said. She had no clue about any girl.

'Yes, the girl. She's back, and she doesn't appear to be going anywhere. Now I'm done.'

A moment later, the furious gate watcher zipped away into the night. The recruit named Wes was about to follow, to make her answer for her disrespectful words, no doubt. But Pappy stopped him, told him he'd deal with it later.

'Let her go,' Leddy said, mirroring the sentiment. 'Give her a night to come around. By morning, I dare say she'll feel better for getting that out.'

One by one, the gatherers went back to their beds until only Leddy and the old fairy remained. Together, they rearranged the twig benches and chairs and bundled up drink shells into waste bags so as to make it appear like there hadn't been a meeting.

It wouldn't do to let the others know that the notorious Green Skulls existed so close to home. The risk to them would be too great. Leddy banked on Broadleaf, however angry, understanding that and keeping her mouth shut.

'Is she right?' Pappy said when they were finishing up. 'Do you think I'm treating you as some sort of replacement daughter?'

'Of course not.' Leddy hoped her answer came across more convincing that it felt. 'Besides, even if you were, and anyone would understand why you might, I'd be honoured. Any daughter of yours must be pretty special.'

'My Mae had her problems, can't pretend otherwise. But she was my girl and I loved her. Loved 'em both.'

Leddy stroked her hand across the old fairy's arm, gave his shoulder a squeeze.

'I just wish,' he said. 'I just wish-'

Leddy pulled him in close, then, and held him until his words trailed off.

'I know, Pappy,' she said. 'I do too.'

#amwriting #dark fairytale #writerblr #storytime #fiction #fantasy #midjourney #part 2.5

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findafight · 1 year

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Wait. Wait. Kinda part 2 to this post. For the angst of it all. Cw: implied and assumed homophobia

Because sure, after that dinner Joyce relents in not being, y'know, openly confused or frustrated with Steve being around. El obviously adores him and Jim is always glad when he comes around. Joyce can put up with Steve for them. But she's a stubborn woman, and somewhere in her mind, Steve is a Bad Egg. So she's still not 100% on board.

All this rears its head one night after a lot of their world saving group has had a movie night and ended up in a puddle on the floor. Steve is squished between Robin and Eddie, snuggled up all cozy. Joyce sees this when she quietly pads out of her bedroom to just. Check on the kids.

Eddie and Steve are sat up, Robin's face pressed against his hip. They're whispering something, heads leaned close. And they lean in further, silhouetted by the moonlight filtering in, and kiss. It's pretty chaste, though not a peck.

Joyce's blood boils. Steve has a girlfriend, he should not be going around kissing his friends like that, stringing them all along. She feels strangely vindicated, that her assumptions about Steve were right, that he wasn't actually a good guy or had changed at all. She almost yells at him then and there, but holds off. No need to wake everyone up. She can lecture him in the morning.

Once everyone is fed and lounging in the late morning, she pulls Steve out onto the porch.

"I saw you kiss Eddie last night" she says, without preamble. "And I cannot believe you would think behaviour like that is acceptable in my house."

Steve blinks, clenches his jaw. "Jo--Mrs Byers. I--"

"I don't want any of your excuses! It's despicable what you're doing, and I won't have it. For whatever reason, those kids look up to you. What kind of example are you setting for them? For El?" Steve's eyes widen, and if Joyce hadn't been so caught up with her anger she probably would have seen that instead of being ashamed or embarrassed, Steve is scared. "She looks up to you so much, though I can't imagine why. You need to clean yourself up, Steve. For real this time. You can't go around doing whatever you want. It's disgusting and disrespectful. Did you even consider the people you'd hurt? How doing shit like that would affect the lives of people who care about you? They deserve better than that." She shakes her head. Arms crossed. Steve is tense in front of her, but he doesn't say anything. To her, that's as good as confession. "Everyone talks about how you've worked hard to improve yourself, become a better person. But after last night? I just don't believe it. No one who's really changed, really a good person, would do what you did." She sighs. "You should probably leave now."

Steve nods stiffly. "Right. I'll. Uh, I leave. Can you...please, don't tell anyone, ma'am. I'll Grab my bag and I'll get outta your hair, but don't tell. I'm so sorry. Please." She purses her lips. His girlfriend deserves to know, but Joyce has no clue who that is (it might be the Robin girl attached to his hip, but she has no way of knowing). She nods once. Steve's shoulders slump.

Stepping back into the house, Steve quickly and jerkily snags his backpack from the corner it was shoved into before leaning over to whisper something in Robin's ear. The girl nods, looking worried.

He doesn't look at Eddie.

For a while, her house is Steve-free. Joyce breathes easy, hoping their talk was a wake-up call for steve. He is painfully polite when they bump into each other, Robin usually by his side with a strained customer service smile. Small talk is non-existent.

But then Will starts getting quieter. Maybe avoiding her. Certainly does his best to be small and doesn't look in her eyes. She has no idea what's going on, and she's worried.

What if the Upside Down came back? What if there's something wrong with her boy? What if everything they've fought for and sacrificed didn't mean anything and it's never actually over?

She tries to talk to him, but he shrugs her off, says he's fine and not to worry about it. Assures her it is definitely not the Upside Down.

Finally, after two weeks of Will looking absolutely miserable when he talks to her, she gets Jonathan to try. Tension around the house is high, Steve is barely around and always skitters away when he sees her, and in combination with will, it's out everyone on edge.

She doesn't mean to eavesdrop. But she doesn't not mean to either. It's just that they're on the porch, and she was in the kitchen and heard something, and when she went to see, she heard them talking.

"it's not--i want to tell you but it's not my secret to tell."

Jonathan sighs. "Will. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong. Please. Talk to me. I'll love you no matter what, you know that."

Will heaves a breath. "I had a talk with Steve --" and oh, the rage in Joyce's chest when she hears that. What did he say to her boy?? "And...uhg. fuck. Okay, you have to swear, swear! You're not going to tell anyone what I'm going to tell you. If you figure it out, because I don't. It's not mine to tell."

"okay. I swear. I won't go spilling Steve's secrets."

"you have to mean it, Jonathan. It's dangerous!"

There's ruffling fabric. Jonathan's voice is softer. "I promise."

"Steve said he was telling me because he thought we might be...similar. In some ways. And he talked about who he's dating. And that Hopper and El and Robin and Eddie know. And that they're all safe. Y'know? Like you are."

"okay..."

"and I said you were, and he said that was really good, and then emphasized that if I ever wanted like, and actual grown up to talk to, not just another teenager, Hopper was safe. But. The way he said it made it seem like...I don't know, but something was off? And I asked him." There's a pause. "I asked him if Mom knew. And he said yes. But he hadn't... Before that, he hadn't said she was safe. Jonathan..."

Something...wasn't adding up. Joyce was trying to puzzle what she wouldn't be safe to talk to about. She'd been in the tunnels and Upside Down and through it all. Her children, and by extension the children that had helped save them, were always safe in her house. To come to her if they felt unsafe. Why Steve would tell her own son she wasn't --

Will continued. "Steve said that it'd probably be different because I'm her kid, y'know? She--she did all this stuff to get me back and to keep me safe and loves me. So she could. So she'd maybe change her mind. For me."

"Will..." Jonathan's voice sounds pained.

"but what if she's not? What if that's where it ends? Shell save me from a demogorgon but not love me for this. Steve's saved my friends half a dozen times, Jonathan! He got--he got tortured" that is not something Joyce knew. When the hell did that happen? "with Robin to protect Dustin and Erica, Billy beat him half to death when he stepped in to protect Lucas and Max! He's good! I'm not as close to him as the others but he still told me. He trusted me enough with a secret that I can't even say outloud about myself yet! And Mom still-" will hiccups, and Joyce wishes she knew what he was talking about. Wishes he was saying these things to her, so she could comfort him.

Heaving a breath, Will is quieter. "Steve's the reason no one's died. He's El's first brother. And she still called him disgusting for-- for kissing someone he loves."

Ice fills Joyce's veins, a heavy pit balls in her stomach. Because that's not--she didn't--it wasn't like that.

But Steve had begged her not to tell anyone. Had stood still and not tried to justify anything and called her ma'am when he asked her not to tell. Held himself still when she was around and bolted at the first possible opportunity, leaving disappointed people in his wake. Oh, shit. Oh, she's fucked up so badly. Hurt some kid because she was suspicious of him from over three years ago and assumed the worst. Instead of realizing that maybe the reason he and his girlfriend were keeping it quiet was because he didn't have a girlfriend at all, and that the boy he kissed that night was his boyfriend, she had just assumed he was cheating. And then she'd told him he was disappointing and disgusting and a bad influence on the kids. Even after, he still made sure Will knew there were safe people around, that he'd have someone to talk to. And all she'd done was make him scared of her.

"oh, buddy."

Will's voice is muffled, and Jonathan has probably pulled him into a hug. It cracks when he speaks. "how can she say that about Steve but still love me? When so much of this shit's been my fault?"

"none of this is your fault. Don't believe that, will. No one blames you or El for any of it. You know that, right?"

"okay..."

"it's true. And as for mom...I don't know." Jonathan huffs "I'm not sure. I'm sorry, buddy."

Joyce turns then, feeling sick. She shouldn't have eavesdropped on her children, but now she had she was going to make things right. Hopefully.

Ensure everyone, including Steve, knew she was safe.

Part 3

#joyce byers #will byers #steve Harrington #jonathan byers #steddie #stranger things #steve and el #is implied its more in the first bit #finda writes stuff #finda's rambles #misunderstanding #implied homophobia #joyce doesn't like steve au #add the part 3/part 2.5 link two days later sorry pals

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shelxvy · 10 months

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*posts gay lego kissing and runs away cutely*

#ninjago #lego ninjago #lloyd garmadon #brad tudabone #forgivenship #greenflowershipping #can u tell ive been on a drawing rampage lately lol #my wrist has been taking a beating... my carpal tunnel is at an all time high LMAO 😬😬😬😬#drawing lego is SOO hard tho... and i drew them... more than twice here... the legs were the hardest part😐😑#ANYWAYYS i think lloyd is the type to blush real easily.. gets red in the face quickly (including when he gets mad) ykwim?#brads design is based off that one guy from s15 that showed up for 2.5 seconds and everyone collectively decided it was him #took ref from one of gentleknightphotography's (instagram) videos!!

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theriverbeyond · 2 years

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relistening to HtN rn and it really hits me how many moments of fun and hooting/hollaring there were in both GtN and HtN (even desite the latter's overcurrent of grief&disorientation) and how... absent those feelings were (in me as a reader) throughout NtN. like..... comparing the pure rush of Gideon returning in HtN, vs the uncomfortable, uneasy, uncanny valley feeling of first seeing Kiriona in NtN. the elation at realizing the narrator in HtN was Gideon, and the... dread? sadness? grief? of Nona realizing she's Alecto. GtN's "go loud" and its victory versus NtN's "go loud" and its grief (again) and weight.

#idk idk. ive read nona like 2.5 x now not counting rereading small parts for reference and im just....... @ tor books this book is SAD!!!!#it's sad in a way that is so fucking desolate #and i think maybe bc it was split off alecto and therefore doesnt have its conclusion #or maybe bc this series is Supposed To Be like this and i just dont get it or w/e #the vibes reminded me deeply of the red rising series ngl.#anyway again not a complaint just like observation on the tonal shift and thinking about #what that means for AtN #ntn spoilers #trb.txt #tlt thoughts #sighs. as always worried about if i am enjoying things in the Correct Way or not. ntn is a masterwork of XYZ literary things im not #learned enough to articulate but idk. etc etc etc #and not to say there werent funny parts obviously but the general vibe was brutal #still thinking about it all.......

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tgmsunmontue · 3 months

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Take more chances, dance more dances 1/2

~12k EXPLICIT Hangster AU Meet!Cute with Jake as the best man at Natasha and Javy's wedding and Bradley is the instructor teaching them how to dance...

CHAPTER ONE

Bradley’s expecting the group of four for a private lesson, the first of ten lessons and it’s a hell of a gift. He recognizes the name of the person who gave the gift obviously, but Cheryl isn’t ever going to tell a paying customer no, no matter how often he argues with Mav about not needing the extra business. Cheryl is running them through the standard health and safety but he’s pretty sure it’s unnecessary, they’re all likely super fit naval aviators and unlikely to keel over from a little samba. He runs his eyes over them through the one-way mirror, three guys and one woman, which makes the bride easy enough to identify.

She’s leaning into the space of a guy with glasses, laughing at something he says, too quiet for Bradley to hear. The black guy is rolling his eyes, shoving the other white guy on the shoulder, he’s got a toothpick in his teeth; before stepping in close to the woman and she turns, her body arching ever so slightly and that’s the groom then. The guy in glasses smiles at them, looks pleased for them but makes no effort to move out of their space. Interesting. While the other guy –

“I just don’t understand why the whole wedding party needs to learn how to dance…”

“Dude, you’re my back-up dancer!” The groom exclaims.

“No, I’m your wingman, and you’ve landed the hottest woman ever and therefore my job is done.”

“You didn’t help him land me at all. In fact you were something of a handicap to his efforts.”

“Hey! I take offence to that!”

“You were meant to,” the guy in glasses says dryly and Bradley has to bite back a laugh at the look the other guy gives him. They’re all familiar with each other at least, although getting them to loosen up enough to dance will be annoying, when they’re all going to have that naval bearing which is drilled into them. Ah well, no time like the present to start, he pushes open the door.

“Hi, I’m Bradley… and you’re here because you got given dance lessons as an engagement-slash-wedding present right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“So, are we expecting anyone else or are we working with a male couple to dance?”

“My sister lives in New York, she’s actually a dancer so I don’t have any issues with her. Javy’s sister is taking classes, so we’ve just got the four of us to get up to speed!”

“Okay, so what are you after and when is the wedding?”

“Four weeks. We kind of… uh, had reasons to bring the date forward.”

Bradley raises an eyebrow, because that usually implies that the bride is pregnant, but the angry look the bride is giving her husband-to-be makes Bradley doubt that is the case. And he wonders if the guy is going to be getting laid any time between now and the wedding.

“Javy! You make it sound like you’ve knocked me up!”

“Not for lack of trying, I’m sure,” toothpick twiddler says, and the bride then slaps his arm so hard he winces and Bradley hasn’t been amused in a long time. This might actually be fun.

He reads through the information on the tablet, looking at past dance experience. He knows they’ll all be fine counting out to a beat, but making them look like they can dance and are enjoying themselves while doing it is a completely different matter. If they look like they’re being tortured it sort of defeats the purpose.

“Jake?”

“That’s me darlin’,” the toothpick twiddler says and he gives Bradley a grin, lets his eyes drag up Bradley’s body in clear interest and Bradley lets him, feels equal parts amused and flattered, lets his own eyes sweep down Jake’s body. Nice. Most of the guys checking him out are already partnered up when they enter his dance studio and it always makes him feel a little uncomfortable. If the guy is available and interested Bradley definitely wouldn’t turn him down. He doesn’t have any rules about not sleeping with any of his clients/students/customers/dance partners… Everyone just needs to be onboard and consenting.

“Says here you have line dancing experience.”

“Sure do.”

“Okay, then I might not need to beat the stiffness out of all of you. Did you have something in mind for your first dance?” Bradley asks, looking up at who he assumes is Natasha Trace. He’s also going to assume that the black man is Javier Machado and the other man is Robert Floyd. No doubt they’ll have callsigns they’ll throw around once they loosen up, but he’ll pick those up easily enough.

“So we were thinking of going with a waltz for everyone. That seemed easy enough for us to all learn when we were watching videos…”

Bradley nods, because she’s right. Nothing wrong with classic and traditional. Better to have everyone master one dance and look good for the video. Also the waltz will likely suit them better than some of the more fluid Latin American styles given they’ve only got four weeks. It’s really not long enough but he’ll make it work. He’s glad they’ve got realistic expectations though.

“And do you have a song? Were you thinking traditional instrumental or more modern. I’ve got playlists you can go through and find something you like. As long as we have at least four weeks to practice to it should be fine. How often were you wanting to have these lessons? Because if you’re interested in general classes as well these can happen every week, although I’m thinking four weeks… that’s already a tight time crunch.”

He hashes out a timeframe and times that work for them, and the fact that they’re all on leave makes his intuition ping with the idea that they’ve probably been part of whatever bullshit mission Mav just got back from.

“You guys part of the Dagger Squadron?”

That has them all looking at him sharply and he shakes his head slightly, forces himself to remain relaxed and not get immediately defensive because they’re all looking like they’re about to attack him. Huh. There’s definitely a story there and he’s not sure if he wants to know it.

“And what if we are?”

“Captain Mitchell was the giftee. He’s a family friend,” Bradley says, and it’s not a lie, really, just a little misdirection. Mav is the only family he has, not counting the distant cousins he knows exist somewhere in his family tree.

“Oh, that’s cool man.”

“Come on, let’s see what we’re working with and not waste the rest of the hour.”

… … …

“Look at the legs on him… Jesus.”

“You want a towel there Bagman?”

“What?”

“To mop up the drool…”

“Trace, Natasha, do you see those legs?”

“He’s a dancer, of course his legs look good. He’s probably got better legs than me. Bet he’s super flexible too.”

Jake’s brain glitches as he tries to imagine all the potentials of a flexible partner in bed at the same time. So many positions. Those legs wrapped around him. Or those hips thrusting his cock into Jake. He’s not fussy.

“Fuck…”

“You definitely look like you want to. You going to ask him out?”

“That okay with you?”

“That you want to fuck our dance instructor? Yes. I just met the guy. I mean, I figure you’re somehow an adult enough to not let it fuck up all our future dance lessons…”

“Could make it more than a one-off.”

“Well, regular sex does have a lot going for it for those of us who like it…”

“I definitely like it. Think I’d like it a lot with him.”

“Just don’t get all sulky if he rejects you.”

Jake immediately goes to make some quip about how he never gets rejected but then realizes he really doesn’t want to get rejected. He’s pretty sure he won’t be, judging from the way Bradley had checked Jake out in response to being checked out. It’d been reciprocal. He hopes that means there’s more that can be reciprocal.

As they get taken through the basics it’s all pretty straight forward, just focusing on footwork, which Jake vaguely remembers from his mom teaching him years ago. They’re not trying anything with a partner yet, so it gives him plenty of opportunities to watch him and he grows more confident and time passes, because he’s pretty sure he’s being watched. Assessed. For something other than his dancing ability that is.

“Okay, that’s us done for the day. We’ll build on that next time, so feel free to practice between now and then. And if any of you guys are wanting to do something different, or more difficult you can book more lessons. However if you just want to practice and become more confident you can come along to any of our beginner group classes. They’re multiple times a week with different styles and levels, usually ninety minutes long. I’ll get Cheryl to email you out the timetable.”

Everyone thanks him, Jake included and he gives a little jerk of his head to Javy, mutters that he’ll catch up with them if he has to and Bradley is watching him not leave with his friends and is approaching him and Jake can’t take his eyes off him.

“Did you want something?”

“Yeah… Just wondering if you’d be interested in a drink?”

“A drink or a fuck?”

Oh, Jake likes him. No bullshit, just cutting right down to it.

“Both. Not fussy about the order either…”

“Great.”

“Now?”

There’s a look of brief regret and slight shake of the head and Jake tamps down on the immediate flash of disappointment in his gut.

“I’m actually teaching until eight-thirty tonight. That work for you?”

“Can I watch the class?”

“I man… Yeah, sure. Starts at seven.”

“I’ll see you then.”

He gives Bradley a little salute and hurries to catch up with the others, his blood thrumming.

“You get shot down already?” Javy asks and Jake punches him in the arm.

“Opposite in fact. I’ve got to go back later. He’s teaching until eight-thirty.”

“Well, at least you’ll stop complaining about being horny all the time.”

“I don’t complain all the time!”

All three just look at him and he sighs.

Maybe he does.

… … …

Cheryl won’t stop snickering every time she looks at him and Bradley is a little embarrassed that she was there to witness everything, although she tells Bradley it’s about time he put himself out there. He thinks that’s a little on the nose seeing as she’s been married to her wife for over ten years and hasn’t had to put herself anywhere for a long time. He helps with some of the basic admin, emails the four from earlier with the promised information with links to playlists and video tutorials; hopes that Natasha and Javier don’t suddenly watch something and decide to change it up.

He’s got a private session with some younger kids preparing for an upcoming competition so he doesn’t have time to dwell on what might be happening later. Time passes quickly and he manages to scoff down his salad and cold chicken and brush his teeth in the half-hour break before the start of his last class. It’s an advance swing and jive class, definitely one of his favorites and he changes from his long-sleeve black shirt to a white tank, knows he’s going to work up a sweat. Clips a microphone to his tank and grabs a fresh battery pack, wiring it up with practiced ease. Then he goes back into the studio, there’s already about a third of the class waiting and he waves in greeting.

“He’s here,” Cheryl sing-songs as she walks past, her three inch heels making her almost as tall as him and Bradley forces himself to not immediately look around. He doesn’t wait too long though and walks over to where Jake is leaning against the wall and watching the other dancers arrive, and he’s getting a few speculative looks from several people and Bradley leans into him, feeling a little proprietary.

“The class is ninety minutes. You sure you want to just… sit and wait?”

“I don’t mind just sitting and watching the scenery.”

“Okay then, hope it’s worth your while.”

“Already is.”

Bradley licks his lips slowly and damn he wants to just… leave now. Take this guy home and lay him out and just go to town. God. He might get more than one chance to do it to, if he’s hanging around for a few weeks, then they could have sex a few times. He’ll have to ask and see if he’s amenable.

“Evening, sorry I couldn’t be here last week. Work was crazy.”

… … …

Jake freezes, because he recognizes that voice and he turns to it, his back straightening automatically.

“Admiral.”

“Lieutenant.”

“What’s he doing here?” Admiral Simpson asks Bradley and Jake takes a tiny step back. He knows Bradley knows Maverick, but knowing Admiral Simpson is another thing. Are they family somehow?

“Calm down Beau, you’re not being stalked. Jake’s getting lessons for the upcoming wedding.”

“I wasn’t aware you were engaged Lieutenant.”

“Not me sir, Trace and Machado.”

“Ah. That makes more sense. Good job last week.”

“Uh. Thank you sir.”

“Hmm,” Admiral Simpson nods, then turns away. “Bradshaw, can I have the first dance?”

“Certainly Admiral…”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“But it’s such an easy way to annoy you… I’ll see you after,” he says and Jake watches as Admiral Simpson spins Bradshaw (Jake could have sworn his name was Bradley?) out onto the dance floor to Walking on Sunshine, and then pulls him back into him. They both know how to dance and Jake’s still getting used to the idea of Admiral Simpson in denim that the fact he’s dancing is a separate mindfuck.

“Okay everyone, we’re going to start warming up while we wait for everyone to get here. Partner up and we’re going to move Jive style and then change partners every count of twenty. I’ll call it.”

Jake watches and people all know what the hell they’re doing, moving fluidly with each other as well as around all the other dancers. He hadn’t considered how they’d not bump into each other when everyone is moving all over the place. It’s generally not a problem that comes up with line dancing unless someone fucks up royally.

“And change!”

At the call everyone moves to a different partner but it looks seamless, like everyone is doing one big practiced dance that they all know and it’s more fascinating than he thought it would be. He’d assumed he’d just spend ninety minutes watching Bradley (he’s going to assume his name is Bradley), but this class is advanced and it’s enjoyable to watch. Every time Bradley crosses his line of sight though his eyes follow him, transfixed until he’s lost in the sea of other dancers. The call for change comes regularly and Jake counts it out, wonders how the hell Bradley is managing to keep track of the count, dance and call it out for everyone else.

“And change!”

“Prepare to switch!”

“Switch the lead!”

Jake doesn’t quite understand what that call means and he watches, realizing that instead of the men doing the lead moves the women are, and Bradley is back dancing with Admiral Simpson and is dipping him.

… … …

He’s a little distracted watching Jake watch everyone dance, but he’s lucky he’s got years of muscle memory to rely on. Once everyone is warmed up and having drinks of water he catches Jake’s eye and he’s got his undivided attention. Fuck he wishes Jake could dance, has always considered dancing on par with sex, the music and movement of his body always freeing in a different way. Sharing that experience with someone has always felt intimate, especially when it’s a prelude to sex. The rest of the class goes quickly, the focus being an armjive tangle and a sway choker, which some of the class already know which always helps. Beau keeps smirking at him each time he catches his eye but he ignores it. He takes off the mic and battery, wipes it clean and puts it onto charge, answers questions and takes a few of the students through some moves slowly until they get it. Cheryl gets the lights in the office, tells him she’ll lock the front door and then he’s alone with Jake.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Still want to get a drink?”

“No.”

“Want to come home with me? Not for a drink?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Come with me.”

He hadn’t bothered mentioning it earlier, but his apartment is above the studio. Not many people want to live above a dance studio that is playing music constantly, people thumping around with varying degrees of light-footedness. He leads Jake up the stairs and pushes the door to his apartment open. He hardly ever locks it. He doesn’t pause anywhere long enough to allow Jake time to look around, he has one destination in mind, and unfortunately it’s not his bedroom.

“I really need a shower, I’ve been dancing all day.”

“That an invitation for me to join you?”

Bradley hadn’t meant it as one, but –

“Fuck yes. Come on.”

He strips off methodically, tossing his clothes toward the basket in the corner, appreciates the fact that Jake is doing the same, although his clothes get carefully folded and placed on the side dresser in a careful pile but he’s soon standing there as naked as Bradley. He jerks his head in the direction of the bathroom, feels a little awkward being naked when they haven’t even kissed yet and they both move towards it and he flicks the water on.

“I need to ask you something, it’s been bugging me all night,” Jake says, and he’s in Bradley’s personal space, mouth now within kissing distance and Bradley watches his lips as he talks.

“Sure, what?”

“What’s your name?”

“Were you really that distracted this afternoon?”

“You are pretty distracting, but I was also pretty sure your name was Bradley up until Admiral Simpson called you Bradshaw and I thought maybe I’d misheard.”

Their bodies have shifted, swayed closer together and he rests his hands on the naked expanse of skin on Jake’s hip, squeezes slightly and shifts closer. Hearing Beau called Admiral makes him snicker, because he’s seen the man in a variety of states, some of them very embarrassing for him and he’s glad he didn’t know of Bradley’s relationship to Mav before they knew each other well.

“Nope. You heard right. Both times.”

“They’re both your names?”

“Unfortunately,” Bradley says, pressing a small kiss just beneath the hinge of Jake’s jaw. “Bradley Bradshaw.” Kisses his cheekbone. “My parents didn’t think it through until after they’d already submitted the paperwork and I’ve been lumped with it my whole life.”

“Yeah, you look like you’ve really suffered.”

Jake’s voice is satisfyingly breathy sounding. Bradley doesn’t agree with him, but he’s grateful for what he has now, definitely doesn’t want to get into his whole life story with a guy he’s hooking up with. He slides his mouth over Jake’s, nothing more than a hello kiss but their bodies brush against each other and their cocks bump and yeah, he’s pretty confident this is going to be good. Really good.

“Water’s warm…”

He pushes gently, follows him into the spray of water but doesn’t let the contact he has with Jake’s body end, tries to leave a hand on him, or presses a leg against him, kisses him as water sluices over their bodies.

“You look really fucking good when you’re dancing…” Jake mumbles, and Bradley grins against the skin of his neck where he’d just been licking.

“Well, you look good all the time, so we’re pretty even huh?”

“I am good…”

“Yeah? Going to show me how much?”

He doesn’t know yet what Jake is angling for, sometimes guys are really upfront and clear that they want to fuck him, or be fucked. This little encounter hasn’t given any clues yet and Bradley finds himself not really knowing what he wants himself, would be okay with anything… everything. Their kissing is more intense, hands moving with purpose and he jerks at the fingers wrapping around his erection; thrusts into them.

“Fuck…”

He goes to return the favor but he’s deftly directed to one of Jake’s ass cheeks and he gives it a firm squeeze, rubs his hand in in a firm circle and squeezes again and he feels Jake pushing into his hand. Okay then. He runs a finger down the crack of his ass, feels the gasp pull the breath from his own mouth. He does it again and this time he feels slick, slicker than the water would allow for and he presses down and fuck he hopes that’s lube. He looks at his clear shiny finger and that’s definitely lube being washed away.

“Fucking hell… what did you do? Go back to base and finger yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck…”

“Yeah. Didn’t want to waste time. And you’ve got to dance and I’ve got to be a lay about for a few weeks…”

“What if I wanted to take my time with you?”

“Later. You can. Later. Just… this first time, just need it a bit harder. A grateful to be alive kind of fuck.”

His skin prickles at that but he ignores it.

“You want to have fuck I’m glad to be alive type sex…”

“Yeah, that. Exactly that.”

“Okay then, pretty sure I can help with that.”

… … …

Jake is so so grateful that he got dragged along to dance lessons. This is karmic reward for trying to be a good person, surely has to be.

“I don’t keep condoms in my shower…”

“Poor planning on your part,” Jake gasps, Bradley’s fingers playing with his rim making his brain fizz.

“Put your thighs together, make it nice and tight for me… going to slide my dick between them.”

Jake’s breath stutters and then he sucks in a deep breath and does as he’s told, bracing his forearms against the shower wall. Fingers slick with something that is definitely not lube and smells like mint and citrus and he shoves back; feels teeth dig in ever so slightly on his shoulder before it’s being soothed away to a kiss. This isn’t what he wants, what he needs. But he’ll go along with it for now, wants to feel it, the promise of more to come. Bradley is slightly taller, slightly broader and he feels enveloped, the heat of the shower accompanied by the heat of Bradley’s chest against his back as he slides his cock between Jake’s thighs in one smooth glide.

“Going to this properly soon if you’ll let me, and I think you’ll let me, think you want me to. Think you fingered yourself and stretched yourself open and got yourself ready for me thinking about this…”

Jake groans, can’t even think of anything to say in reply because it’s all true. Mostly. He also got himself off, not wanting to embarrass himself from coming too fast as soon as Bradley touched him, although he’s starting to think he could have gone with that; that Bradley would have just moved on to wringing another one out of him. Bradley’s moving his body in a slow rolling grind, rhythmic like his dancing is, his hand wrapped around Jake’s cock and moving in unison and Jake wonders if he’s keeping count in his head. It’s not fast enough or hard enough to get him close, but he’s getting the impression that that isn’t the purpose here, instead it’s to ratchet up the whole thing further and he’s okay with that. For now.

Time draws out, losing meaning, he’s not sure if they’ve been there for five minutes or fifteen or longer, but the water is still hot, his cock is starting to feel hotter, his thighs starting to tremble from the concerted effort to keep them tightly clenched together. Bradley’s body starts to move ever slightly so faster against him and he really needs to get fucked. Wants Bradley fucking him and hopefully leaving some bruises, although he won’t ask for them. Too much to ask a guy he may or may not fuck again.

“More. Come on Bradley, please, need more… come on.”

He feels Bradley draw away and clenches his jaw at the immediate whine that wants to escape his mouth. He feels hands moving over him, the detachable shower head rinsing off whatever he’d been using to slick his way and he groans again.

“Okay, come on. Bed.”

“Thank fuck.”

The water is shut off and Bradley is rubbing him down with a towel, only wiping away the worst of the water and when Bradley licks his neck the contrast of his warm mouth against the cooling water makes him shiver, it feels so good, his entire body alight with sensation and he’s becoming more and more desperate. Bradley moves him firmly but gently, using his entire body to guide him back to the bedroom. He encouraged onto his stomach, a pillow shoved under his hips and he can’t help but grind his cock into the soft cotton.

“Uh uh, none of that, I’ll take care of you. Okay?”

“Oh fuck…” Jake gasps, because it’s the deep promise of those words and he shifts, spreads his legs. Then there’s fingers stroking over in his hole again, two of them, generously lubed up and he’s obviously missed where the fuck that came from. He pushes back, wants the burn and stretch. Bradley doesn’t second guess anything and Jake’s grateful, not sure he could be coherent right now. The stretch is good, not at all painful and he desperately wants to grind back and forward at the same time. Then there’s another finger and oh god yes, he’s sure he says it out loud as well.

“You look so good like this… feel so good.”

“Come on, more…”

“Just a little longer…”

He has a vision then of kicking back, forcing Bradley onto his back so Jake could simply ride his cock until he came. Except he’s not in the position, isn’t even sure he’d be able to shift Bradley if he didn’t want to be shifted like that. There’s a little more lube and for the briefest of moment four fingers and he pushes back harder but they disappear quickly.

“You okay?”

“God yes… so good.”

“Good.”

Then he hears the quiet tear of foil, the soft unmistakable sounds of a condom being put on and his brain and body are both internally shouting yes yes yes and he groans in anticipation. Then there is a hand on his ass, holding him open and he’s feeling the press of Bradley’s cock and he bears down, pushing himself back onto it and it doesn’t make it any faster but it does make it easier and he sighs at the sensation, of finally getting filled in the way he was after.

“Tell me if it gets too much.”

“You’re not that big…”

Bradley’s soft laugh tickles at the hair on his neck, then he’s pulling back not even an inch before pushing back in, fully sheathed inside him, his hips working a slow circular grind like he’s still trying to work Jake open with his cock. After a few moments he shifts, pulling Jake back to be almost sitting in Bradley’s lap, thighs spread on either side, ass tight on his cock. It pushes him that little bit deeper and Jake lets himself sag against down into it, letting gravity have it’s way pushing him down onto Bradley.

“Yeah, that’s it… want to get you all pliant so I can fuck you like you want…”

Oh. Jake’s pretty sure he’s being read like a book right now. Bradley flexes his hips in a way Jake isn’t sure he could mimic with a full-grown man in his lap but he’s grateful for Bradley’s talents and feels the sparks hit his spine like a sparkler lit on the fourth of July.

“You into edging?” Bradley asks, and he’s moving the same way he was when he was fucking Jake’s thighs, starting off deep, only pulling back the smallest amount before grinding back in. Doing that over and over and he’s not going to get more leverage with how they’re sitting and Jake needs him to have more leverage. He shakes his head, thinks about the questions Bradley’s just asked.

“No. No. Not right now…”

“I don’t mean right now…” Bradley says, and he’s leaning forward, arm around Jake’s chest as he encourages him back onto the bed and Jake moves his arms to help, to support his own weight, feels Bradley’s other hand holding his hip firm, like he doesn’t want to shift too much and pull out. Holy shit his core strength must be insane. Then he’s being shifted and he’s glad for the assist, now on his hands and knees, legs spread and Bradley kneeling between them.

“Going to fuck you now…”

“Thank fuck…finally.”

“Was just thinking about getting you to the edge over and over and over until you’re begging and crying for it… not right now. But maybe you’d let me?”

Jake would for sure as hell let him. Fucking hell. The mouth on this man.

“Yeah? What’s in it for me?”

“Well, hopefully a mind melting orgasm, but you could do whatever you liked to me too you know…”

“God you’re chatty…”

That. That is what has Bradley pulling out and fucking into him harder and he doesn’t cry out but it’s a close thing. He braces himself on an arm, shoves his ass back and grunts yeah c’mon harder and there are fingers digging into his hips and maybe he’ll get the bruises he wanted after all. He fully expects the pace to remain faster, harder, he definitely makes it known that that’s what he wants and it goes his way few a few minutes but then it starts slowing down and no no no…

“Shh… shh… I got you. Just want to get my hand on your cock again.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

Then he’s gone, the added stimulation of being fucked, harder and faster than before somehow, or maybe it’s just the mirrored movement on his cock playing mind tricks, making him think everything is harder and faster. He’s got fingertips digging into his hip, a hand on his cock doing it’s best to give him the hand job of a lifetime all while he’s getting fucked by a guy who knows what the he’s doing. It’s taken him over thirty years, but he’s finally found the best sex he’s had, and it is lightyears over and above what previously held first place.

“Think you have an oral fixation. Saw what you were doing to that toothpick. Want to see you choking on my cock…”

Jake doesn’t whimper, he swears he doesn’t, but it’s pretty much moot because he does come, his body lighting up like the fuse finally burned all the way down and he shudders through it, feels over-stimulated in all the best possible ways but is grateful that Bradley slows and pulls out of gently as he can. He can barely move, slumps down and looks over his shoulder as best he can. Sees Bradley taking the condom off and then he’s stripping his own cock, his hand a solid blur of movement as he jerks himself off. Jake feels the splatter of come across his ass and lower back and just hums in approval.

He doesn’t want to move but neither does he want to withstand the awkward chitchat of post-hookup etiquette so he stretches, is touched Bradley is apparently enough of a gentleman to clean up after himself, the damp towel from the shower being used to wipe his back before being offered to clean up the smears on his own stomach. He dresses quickly, grateful Bradley pulls on underwear and ignores the urge to just want to curl up in bed naked with him. That isn’t what this is.

“I’ve got to get back to base…”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Thank you. This was… exactly what I needed.”

“Well, I’m happy to help. If you need it again, you know where to find me.”

“You’d be down for that?” Jake asks, because things said in the heat of the moment aren’t always the most reliable.

“Did I somehow give you the impression I wouldn’t be?”

“Fair.”

“I’ll see you in a couple of days at the next lesson.”

“Not if I see you first.”

“Well, as I said. You know where to find me.”

CHAPTER TWO

#Hangster #Sereshaw #rooster x hangman #I wrote 2.5 of this rather than It's all academic darlin' sorry!#there is a second part because this Jake and Bradley have a story to tell apparently #Along with Cyclone and Mav getting their shit together as well because WHO KNEW??#I certainly had NO IDEA #Take more chances - Dance more dances

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