#at least my boss gave me cookies and a get well card during the weekend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tirednotflirting · 4 years

Text

but we were something, don't you think so?

vaguely based on ‘the one’ by taylor swift and also my walk home on an afternoon in july last year

also i asked helen if my writing lashton card gets revoked if i write something sad. will report back on what she decides.

(i apologize now for the tense issues in this i am still Learning how to not do that but i think it’s pretty obvious what takes place in the present and what does not)

oh and here is the ao3 link !

It’s a blazing hot early afternoon in July when Luke sees Ashton for the first time in over a year.

(It’s been 13 months and 12 days since he last saw Ashton. It was on a cooler day in early May and he had been wearing the blue sweater. The one that made the green in his eyes stand out more than normal. But Luke likes to pretend he doesn’t keep track of that so consistently.)

It had been a good morning. Luke opened at the office that day so he had the privilege of making the first pot of coffee, getting to experience the rich smell filling the space while he responded to emails and voicemails. He had a brief chat with his favorite mail delivery person about their plans for the weekend and the renovations happening in the bathroom down the hall. His boss assigned him a list of names to call to discuss their fall registration complications. The time passed quickly with the phone chatter and two cups of coffee out of his favorite mug.

His replacement for the afternoon shift showed up on time for once and he shouted his goodbyes out as he left the office. He was eager to get back to the apartment he shared with Calum so they could head to the store and grab drinks and snacks for the concert in the park they had decided to attend that night. Last time they had gone to the event just the three of them, he had let Michael and Calum do the drink run and they ended up deciding that Jello shots were to be the drink of choice and all of the families attending gave them disappointed looks the whole night.

Luke walks through campus, his t shirt sticking to him a bit in the heat, and catches up on the texts he had missed from his mom and brothers. He takes a moment to appreciate the serenity of his university campus when it’s all empty in the summer, the only other people around being the occasional professor or a local family taking a walk with sunhats and a stroller.

He’s just gotten a text from Calum asking when he’ll be back at their apartment and Luke is responding with an estimated time of arrival, factoring in the time it should take for him to grab an iced coffee on the way, when he looks up once he reaches the street corner. He’s only meaning to check for cars and to see how many seconds are left before he can cross when he sees him.

Luke didn’t expect the way his heart would drop straight into his stomach when he saw Ashton again. Didn’t expect the way the message on his phone (one important to respond to unless he wants to get plastered off of vodka and Jello in public again) would be completely dismissed when he saw the black curls of the man who had made him feel like everything. The way his fingers felt like they were on fire.

He also never expected Ashton to lock eyes with him the first time they saw each other again.

But oddly enough, he is.

Two things flood into Luke’s mind then. The first is that Ashton doesn’t look bad. He’s got his hands shoved into black jeans that aren’t at all appropriate for the current weather. His hair is longer than he had kept it in quite some time, tied back into a tiny bun that rests just above the tattoo at his neck that he had gotten junior year (Luke still remembers his hand being sore for a couple of days because of how tightly Ashton had gripped it while the gun buzzed along his tanned skin). And his calm gaze holds Luke’s in a way that he had only just recently stopped craving four times a day at least.

The second thing that comes to mind is a day from two years earlier, probably almost exactly two years (if it wouldn’t nearly physically pain him to see their happy, drunken smiles from that day, Luke would have thought later to look through his camera roll to check if he was right).

Ashton had only officially asked Luke to be his boyfriend about a month prior, just after finals ended. It was the summer after Luke’s freshman year, the summer he started working his campus office job that allowed him a reason to stay in the city with his friends and his boyfriend. One of Calum’s older sister’s friends needed to rent out her room for the summer and Luke’s advisor had offered him the job. It was a perfect storm.

After work one day in June, Luke headed back toward the student apartments to Ashton’s building, his smile lazy but bright as he headed into a weekend and his boyfriend’s home. It was still very new, his relationship with Ashton, but it felt very big, very important. If he wasn’t so high on his love for the curly haired philosophy major and the feeling of being in the city in the summer, he might have taken the time to think a bit more critically about what it meant to dive in so deep with someone so fast. But then he felt a breeze in the air and the sun shining on his face, and he figured that was something to worry about on another day. Things were really good.

He punches the door code at the front of the building and climbs the stairs two at a time up two floors. When he turns out of the stairwell, he grasps the handle to the first door on the right, left unlocked since he was expected that afternoon.

“Honey, I’m home?” he calls out as he pulls at the laces on his Converse so he can leave them at the shoe rack before continuing into the cozy space. The coziness of the place felt a little odd for June, a candle that smelled like Christmas burning somewhere based on the mix of the smell of sugar cookies and pine that meets Luke’s nose as he hangs his backpack on his designated hook. But that was Ashton, always curating his spaces to feel what he wanted. During one of the first few times they had hung out the previous January, Ashton had insisted on popsicles. It was one of the things Luke felt himself already loving about him.

Luke frowns at the lack of response to his greeting and makes his way down the hall to the kitchen, his sock-covered feet sliding a bit on the wood floor. He turns into the kitchen and finds that the cookie smell had been due not to a candle but real life cookies that were cooling on a rack on the counter behind a headphone-clad Ashton. Luke laughs quietly to himself, wondering what the occasion was as he continues through the space and checks to make sure there’s nothing hot or sharp in his boyfriend’s hands before wrapping his arms around his waist. He lets his hands clasp together at his stomach and huffs out a giggle when he feels him jump with surprise.

Ashton uses his free hand not holding a spatula to pull his headphones off his head, hanging them from one of the cabinet handles. He leaves the utensil in the bowl and turns in Luke’s arms to face him, his arms wrapping around the blonde’s neck. “Hey you,” he beams, his arms tightening some to pull Luke closer to brush their lips together in greeting. Luke notes to himself that he must have been sampling his cookie dough from the sugar against his own lips now. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“Seems like you were busy,” Luke smiles, moving one of his hands from Ashton’s back to gesture to the kitchen.

Ashton lights up, his dimples deepening as he smiles. “Oh, yeah! Wanted snacks for the show tonight.”

A confused look drops to Luke’s face. “Didn’t remember that we bought tickets for something tonight? Where is it at?”

“We don’t have tickets for anything. There’s this free concert series at the park that I thought would make a wonderful Friday night date night and I am determined to continue wooing you. So I bought pink wine and I’m making cookies.”

Luke releases his arms from his waist then, moving to the side to dip his finger into the cookie dough to taste it. “Consider me wooed. That sounds lovely.”

He’s ushered out of the space to sit at the counter then so Ashton can continue working. He’s given a glass of lemonade and tells Ashton all about his day, about the students who came into the office for help with registration things and the dogs that he saw on his walk to campus. Luke gets Ashton to talk some about what they’re going to and it’s apparently Ashton’s favorite part of the summer. He goes into a story about a sweet dog and baby he got to meet when sharing a beer with some dad at one of the shows the previous summer.

“It’s funny because last summer it was my favorite thing to do with just me,” Ashton starts as he packs the cookies into plastic bags to put in a tote with the wine that he’s already poured into plastic bottles (glass wasn’t allowed at the park). “But I got the email about the set for tonight and I don’t know, I think it could be nice if this becomes our thing in the summer, you know?”

He turns up to look for a response from Luke and is met with the likely hilariously bright blush that Luke feels creeping up to paint across his cheeks and nose. He giggles to himself and raises his brows at the blonde as he packs some strawberries and cherries away to take with them as well. “I’ll take that as a good response to the idea then?”

Luke bites at his lip as he smiles. “That sounds incredible.”

They take the bus to the park. The sky is just dipping into golden hour as they dance their way to where the other attendees have their blankets set up for the evening. Luke makes Ashton stop his skipping for just a moment, claiming he needs him to stand still and smile for a lock screen picture, please. They find a good spot next to a group of women who brought their dogs and boxed wine and immediately start telling them how cute of a couple they are. Luke blushes fiercely as Ashton kisses his cheek, resulting in a chorus of squeals from their neighbors. They introduce themselves and the dogs and it’s really all something out of a film, Luke thinks.

They chat about work and summer courses some more and exchange stories from their younger years they have yet to share while sipping wine from plastic cups. Ashton lets Luke feed him cookies and they listen to the women tell stories from their many years of coming to the shows there. Luke sits between Ashton’s legs as they listen, gentle and thankful smiles on their faces, and Ashton reaches for one Luke’s hands, weaving their fingers together and resting them against Luke’s lap.

The sun sets further and the music starts. They thank their new friends for the stories and smile respectfully, blushes on both of their faces hidden in the twilight when the women request invitations to their wedding. Ashton is stunned silent (a rare occurrence, really) so Luke makes sure to tell them he’ll add them to the guest list.

It’s during the main set that Luke realizes he wants to live in this night for the rest of his life maybe. His back is against the chest of the first boy he’s ever loved, his body rising and falling just slightly with Ashton’s breathing and singing and laughter. The hazel eyed boy has one arm wrapped securely around Luke’s waist while the other lifts the water bottle of rose to his lips every so often. Luke finds that he feels so safe in that moment, like because of this night, nothing in the world could ever hurt him because he feels so high up in the air. He feels Ashton tilt his head some to place his lips against Luke’s neck, and he just never wants this to end.

Eventually it does though, of course. They fold up their blanket, smiles on their faces after the band closed with a cover of one of their favorite songs. Goodbyes and promises to meet up at the next show are made as their new friends wander off. Luke jokes that he’ll have to tell his mom about how easily the pair of them are able to make company with women like her friends. On the bus back to the apartment complex, Ashton sleepily leans against Luke and the blonde cards his fingers through his hair, smiling at the bright, fruity scent of Ashton’s cologne he keeps catching a whiff of.

They stumble into the apartment, slightly tipsy off the wine and each other, only pausing to brush their teeth and change into something more comfortable to sleep in before falling into Ashton’s bed. They face each other and Luke kisses at Ashton’s laughter lines as their legs tangle together.

“God,” Ashton bites his lip against a smile as he lifts a hand to cup Luke’s cheek, his thumb stroking across his cheekbone. “I have no idea what good I did to deserve you.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Luke sighs as he leans into the warm hand on his cheek. “I think I might love you. Is that okay?”

Before responding, Ashton lifts his chin slightly to press his lips to Luke’s forehead. They breathe in unison for a moment before he moves to look Luke in the eye. “Only if it’s okay that I might love you.”

Sleep finds them quickly after their (almost, maybe) confessions.

The memory fades out like a fog when Ashton’s eyes pull away from Luke’s when the signal changes for Ashton to cross the street taking him in the opposite direction. Luke finds himself unable to tell if he wants the black-haired boy to turn back to face him or not. He’s not sure which action would break his heart apart more. As he watches him walk into the crosswalk, he feels another memory, this one quite the opposite feeling to the first, start to creep into the edges of his brain but he finds himself able to push that one down (thankfully).

He takes a deep breath as he watches Ashton continue down the street, not once looking back to see if Luke is still looking at him. And when his own walk sign lights up, it takes Luke just a moment to get his feet to start moving again as one single thought fills his mind so many times it feels like it’s blocking his vision.

If one thing happened different, would everything be different today?

He crosses the street then and continues down in that direction, deciding to take just a slightly longer route so his feet don’t have to take any of the same path as his ex-lover. He sighs then but as he feels a somewhat nostalgic summer breeze cool his face, Luke pulls his phone out to text the group message to ask if they want to help him make sugar cookies to take along with them to the park.

(That night, for just a moment, he swears he sees Ashton again a few picnic blankets away, his head tucked into the neck of another boy with curly hair. But then the boy sits up to laugh at something the other has said and Luke realizes it isn’t his past love. But the odd sense of hopefulness he had felt for the couple when he thought it was Ashton tells him that maybe one day he’ll really feel okay.)

#lashton #lashton fic #this really just kinda poured out to the doc and it was kinda cathartic i am not going to lie #summer concert thing is another thing i am missing bc of coronavirus #seeing your past someone on the street corner and having them lock eyes with you and then walk away is not something i am missing #this is barely edited i am sorry if there are Mistakes

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sitabethel · 7 years

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*rolls across floor* it's my work break, I just want to eat the fluffy waffle bits that come off of the side of the pizzelle cookies but that's a Bad. We make lemon cookies, and TKB deserves a lemon where he bosses Atem around to balance all this top!atem. Normally I'm team Bottom!Kura but Thief has too much swag for this.

What was that? Dumb casteshipping coffee shop au with top!TKB? Okay

damn thing won't let me add tags (thanks mobile app), but it's nsfw

***

“Cookies smell ready. Take them out of the oven.” Bakura sat on an upturned milk crate near the floor and played Pokémon on his phone.

“The timer hasn’t gone off get.” Atem sat on the stainless steel prep table like it was a throne. He shuffled a deck of Duel Monster cards and started flipping them over to see how balanced his new deck was.

“Who cares? They’re done.”

“They’re not done because the timer hasn’t gone off.

“You can’t always trust the rules, Atem. I’m telling you- they’re done.”

“Then get up off of your own ass and get them yourself. You’re not my boss.” Atem frowned at his hand, discarded it, and drew several more cards.

“I’m busy.”

“You’re on your phone.”

“You’re playing with cards.”

“So what?” Atem shrugged. “I’ll get them when the timer goes off.”

“Dumbass, now they’re burning.” Bakura growled, shoved the phone in his pocket, and pushed himself to his feet.

“But the timer-”

“I swear to God, Atem, say timer one more time and I will shove it so far up your asshole that your boyfriend will get jealous.” Bakura pulled open the oven, brushing away the first developing wisps of smoke and frowning. “I fucking *hate* the smell of burnt shit. I fucking hate it! Look at this shit! The edges are all dark brown and ugly- I told you they were done.”

“Who cares about dark edges.” Atem dropped his cards on the table, face pulled into a sad expression that didn’t quite fit the situation.

“They’re lemon cookies. They need to look fluffy and yellow, not all brown and crusty like your feet.”

“Lay off me, Bakura.” Atem jumped to the floor. The table wasn’t that high, but Atem was short enough that it was an event to get up or down.

“What the hell is your problem today?” Bakura shoved the pan on the rack for cooling and turned off of the oven. He turned towards Atem, his frown causing the scar on his face to slice crookedly on his face.

“I got dumped, okay?” Atem stared at floor.

“Weren’t you two soulmates or some shit like that?” Bakura snorted as he used a pocket knife to wedge a cookie off of the sheet and bite into it. “They taste okay, but they still look like shit.”

“I thought we were.” Atem hugged himself and leaned against the prep table. “I really did. That’s why … I still don’t understand. He just left me. He said I sat around and played games too much. Okay? But, like tell me and give me a chance to change before you dump me?”

“Fuck that. You don’t play too much. It’s not like that little bitch was a WOW widow or anything.” Bakura shoved his hands into his apron pocket, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Sucks man. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t patronize me.” Atem grit his teeth, turning towards the sink. “Whatever. Let’s just get out of here. I want to go home and crawl into bed.”

“Nah man, fuck that. You’re single. It’s Saturday night. You should do something better than go to bed. Fuck your ex, don’t mope over him.”

Atem ignored Bakura as he filled the sink with hot water and started to wash coffee pots and cookie sheets. The café was small and on the wrong side of town, away from the college crowds. They hadn’t had a customer for forty-five minutes and probably wouldn’t get another one until they closed.

“Atem~” Bakura sang, slinging an arm around Atem’s shoulder.

“Look, just let it go, okay? I don’t need another game-playing loser trying to cheer me up for being a game-playing loser. That’s like a wino telling an alcoholic that he doesn’t drink too much.”

“You know what you should do. You should come back to my place and…” Bakura pressed his lips close to Atem’s ear, whispering in his lowest, most seductive bedroom voice, “play even more games.”

“That’s the last thing I should do.” Atem nudged Bakura away. He glanced at the cards scattered across the prep table. “Think if I dump them all in the sink and ruin them, that maybe he’ll give me a second chance?”

“What?” Bakura shouted. “Mother fucker, please. First of all- give them to me, you have some bad ass cards- and second- fuck your ex! Nothing is wrong with you. I mean, okay, you’re a smug fucking bastard and I want to punch you in the face half the time we work together, but you don’t play any more games than the rest of us.”

“But…” Atem pressed his face against Bakura’s chest. “He left me.”

“Shit man, he’s probably fucking a girl on the side or something. The card games were a cheap ass excuse. C'mon. Let’s close up early and get the fuck out of here.”

“We have ten minutes left,” Atem said.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” Bakura grabbed a bag and started shoving cookies into it.

“Bakura? What the hell are you doing?”

“Well, can’t sell ‘em like this, so I’m going to mark them as waste and take them home.”

“That’s stealing!”

“And throwing them in the trash is a fucking sin against hungry children.” Bakura waved his bag of loot. “My place. Cookies and card games.”

“We’re going to get fired.” Atem sighed. “Whatever. I’m too depressed to care.”

They closed up the café early and walked to Bakura’s car. He drove them back to his apartment and piled the cookies on a paper plate, setting them down on a water-stained coffee table.

“Let me get my deck.” Bakura went to his room and changed into a pair of navy sleep shorts before grabbing his cards.

“Okay, just prance around half naked. Damn.” Atem glared at Bakura when he came back.

“Fuck, you’re such a prude.”

“I’m not. You’re just half naked.”

“Well, I have extra shorts if you’re jealous.”

“Oh goody.” Atem rolled his eyes. “A slumber party.”

“Shut up and cut my deck.” Bakura slammed his cards on the table.

They played a quick game. Bakura got out every letter he needed for his Destiny Board in order to win. Atem slumped into the cushions and sighed.

“See? I’m a loser.”

“Atem, how many times have you kicked my ass at work?” Bakura rolled his eyes. “You’re distracted because you’re thinking about that jackass. Shuffled your cards and play again like a real duelist.”

“What’s the point?” Atem reached over and grabbed two cookies, double fisting bites to his mouth.

“The point is break-ups happen and then you get on with your life.”

“Easy for you to say. No one ever dumps you.”

“No one ever dates me.” Bakura grinned as he stole a cookie from the plate. “I’m too much of an asshole to ever get a second date.”

“That’s because you’re a card game-playing loser.” Atem spoke with a mouth full of cookie.

“Don’t fucking project your insecurities on me. I like my life.”

“You work in a fucking coffee shop.”

“Excuse me, your majesty, I didn’t realize that lowly peasant work was too good for someone of your skill set. Oh wait, you work in a fucking coffee shop too, nevermind.”

“Yeah, and I’m a loser. That’s my point.”

“Whatever.” Bakura got up and disappeared. He came back and threw sleep clothes, a pillow, and a light blanket on top of Atem. “I’m sick of your emo bullshit. I’m going to sleep if you’re not going to play.”

Atem pushed the pillow off his face. “Is this you trying to get me to spend the night?”

“Fucking couch is free, but you can call an Uber if you want to go home. I’m not driving your morose ass anywhere tonight.”

With that, Bakura went to his own room. In the morning, he saw Atem sitting on the couch with his feet on the table and eating a bowl of Lucky Charms.

“Morning, bitch.” Bakura yawned and crashed beside him, grabbing the plate of cookies and resting it on his stomach.

“That’s not breakfast, Bakura.”

“It’s the goddamn breakfast of champions, what are you talking about?” Bakura crammed an entire lemon cookie into his mouth to prove his fucking point.

“Do you work tonight?” Atem asked.

“I’m the half-shift bitch tonight.”

“Want to swap? I close.”

“Are you going to go home and cry into your pillow?”

“No,” Atem said, then added. “Maybe.”

“Dammit, fine then. We can swap. I need the hours, I guess.”

“Thanks, Bakura.”

“Don’t thank me. You owe me next time I want to switch shifts.”

“I mean thanks for everything.”

“I guess I should wash our uniforms before we go in.” Bakura stood up and gathered up their clothes.

The next week went by smoothly for them, and by the next weekend Bakura and Atem found themselves back at Bakura’s place playing Duel Monsters. This time they played three games- Bakura won two and lost one. Atem grumbled, but he no longer referred to himself as a loser, so Bakura didn’t rib Atem too hard for the complaints.

The next week was the same routine. Working, school work, longer shifts on the weekend, but by Saturday they were back at Bakura’s playing card games. Atem won two and lost one.

“You’re getting back into your stride,” Bakura said as he gave the score sheet a death stare.

“Yeah, can’t say I’m over the break-up, but I’m over the woe-is-me phase of it at least.”

“Good.” Bakura gave Atem a snort. “You were acting like a total bitch.”

“Shut up.” Atem gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. They laughed a moment and then a heavy silence stretched over the room.

“Uh…” Bakura scratched the back of his head.

“W-want to do something else?” Atem asked. “Have any good movies?”

“I’m kinda a weeb,” Bakura confessed. “Most my shit is anime.”

“Well? Let’s watch something. I’m not tired yet.”

“Sure. Guess we’ll start with Dragon Ball. That’s a classic.”

They marathoned episodes until the first world tournament. As the show progressed, Bakura started becoming unusually aware of how close he and Atem sat. They’d always kept some distance during the card games, but now their shoulders brushed together and it was… strange. By sunrise, Bakura stumbled to his feet, stretching and yawning.

“Better get some sleep before work.”

He started to keep the blanket and pillow on the couch, and Atem had brought his own change of clothes, so Bakura went to sleep without further fanfare. That night at work, they were able to stagger their lunch breaks to have a fifteen minute overlap and tried to sneak a card game in- although it made Bakura late back from his lunch.

“Looks like I won.” Atem smirked.

“Fuck off, I have to go back before I get bitched at.”

“You close tonight, right?” Atem asked.

“Yeah.”

“Me too.”

“So?”

Atem traced a design on the little table they had in the back instead of a real break room.

“Um, well, I thought maybe I could come over again? Watch more Dragon Ball?”

“Sure.” Bakura shrugged. “But I have Lit at 8am Monday mornings, so I can’t stay up all night like last time.”

“Oh, need help with your homework or anything?”

“Bitch, I ain’t illiterate.” Bakura snorted in mock offense.

“Bitch, you sound illiterate,” Atem snapped back.

That night, as they watched TV together, Bakura was again acutely aware at their proximity. The next thing he knew, he felt hands shaking him awake.

“Bakura. Bakura, wake-up. Bakura, it’s 7am, get your lazy ass to class.”

“What?” Bakura rubbed his eyes, confused. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but his neck complained as if he’d been on the sofa all night.

“It’s morning. Go to class.”

“Fuck.” Bakura crawled into jeans and the first T-shirt he grabbed.

“Eat something,” Atem said.

“You ain’t my mom.” Bakura grabbed a Red Bull and tossed Atem his extra key. “Lock up before you leave.”

“Can I watch a few more episodes? Krillin died.”

“Knock yourself out.” Bakura waved as he took off to class.

He half expected Atem to be there when he returned, but the apartment was empty. Bakura stared at the couch, still trying to remember falling asleep. Had Atem stayed on the sofa with him the entire night? Bakura sniffed and went to take a shower before work.

He’d almost been… looking forward to it? He and Atem used to fight more than their fair share as co-workers. Atem followed every damn little rule and it drove Bakura nuts, but hey, Dragon Ball and stolen cookies and card games weren’t so bad with someone to chat with, so Bakura was looking forward to talking to Atem at work that night.

However, once he actually arrived, Atem seemed to be in a bad mood. He barked orders, snapped at everything Bakura did, and bitched him out for adding whipped cream to a drink that was no-whip. Maybe Bakura would have let it slide, but it was in front of the customers and Bakura was pissed off.

“What’s your problem?” Bakura hissed once their evening rush died down.

“You keep messing up. It’s slowing us down.”

“I’m messing up cuz you’re riding my ass, Atem.”

“Don’t blame me because you’re screwing up.”

“Fuck you.” Bakura stormed off, cleaning the lobby as an excuse to keep away from Atem.

He thought maybe they’d simmer down after the one bad night, but each night after that seemed worse than the one before. Saturday came and went, and neither Bakura nor Atem mentioned card games or anime and they drove home in separate cars.

For a full other week they were at each other’s throats. Finally, Bakura couldn’t take it anymore. He made sure their breaks overlapped again, and cornered Atem in the back.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Atem snorted and turned his head away from Bakura.

“You’ve had a beehive up your ass for over two weeks now. What’s up?”

“Why is everything always asses with you?”

“I like asses.” Bakura grinned.

“Well, kiss mine, then, and let me get back to my lunch break.”

“Not until I figure out what’s been riding you.”

“Stop with the innuendos, Bakura. They’re not funny.”

“I’m not making innuendos. You’re over analyzing what I’m saying.”

“You’re blaming me for everything!” Atem shouted.

“Everything?” Bakura raised a silver eyebrow. “Like, climate change, and orphans, and traffic jams? Or just your attitude problem?”

“I don’t have an attitude problem.”

“You’re acting weird as fuck, Atem.”

“Well.” Atem snorted, stepping into Bakura’s space. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“The hell? I’m not doing a damn thing!”

Next thing Bakura knew, Atem had him slammed against a shelf full of coffee beans. He braced himself for a punch, but felt Atem’s mouth smashing against his instead. Bakura hooked his fingers through Atem’s wild, multi-colored hair, but after finishing the kiss, he pushed them apart.

“Have you seriously been nagging me because you’re frustrated?” Bakura started laughing.

“Shut-up.” Atem’s complexion was dark, but just light enough that a bit of his blush showed through on his almond-colored cheeks.

“Tell you what.” Bakura untangled his fingers from Atem’s hair and instead grabbed Atem’s ass, pulling their bodies together. “Come over tonight and I can take care of that for you.”

“I-I have to go back to work.”

Bakura let Atem go, wondering if perhaps he had been too bold. The rest of the night was quiet and awkward, but after close Atem walked straight to Bakura car, glancing over his shoulder and giving Bakura a sly wink.

Bakura exhaled. One the one hand, he wanted to slap Atem for being so damn difficult, but on the other, his entire body was hot and eager at the thought of getting Atem between the sheets.

He drove fast, and he and Atem raced back to Bakura’s apartment. Bakura shoved Atem towards the bedroom, and then pushed Atem down onto the mattress. He tore his work clothes off and then helped Atem do the same.

Their mouths clashed together. They were too eager and making out with Atem was more an argument of lip placement than a romantic gesture. Bakura wasn’t going to complain, however. It was his first time, and it was fun, and his cock was throbbing so he scrambled across the bed to the nightstand where he kept a bottle of lube.

“Thought you never made it to a second date?” Atem chuckled. “So why do you have anal lube?”

“Because I jerk off.” Bakura winked.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of that, lately.” Atem snorted. “Please hurry.”

“Holy shit, his majesty said please. What an auspicious day.” Bakura greased up Atem’s asshole and popped a finger in right away.

“It’s been too long.” Atem moaned, tossing his head back. “Don’t take too long prepping.”

“You know I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, right?” Bakura laughed and added a second finger.

“Feels like you do,” Atem purred. Then his violet eyes grew round. “Wait, are you saying you’re a virgin?”

“Duh.” Bakura pulled his fingers away and coated his cock. “I already told you I don’t get along with people.”

“But… hook ups, and, and FWB’s?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t have friends- with benefits or otherwise.”

“Damn, Bakura, you’re pathetic!”

“Really turning me on here.” Bakura glared at Atem.

“Sorry.” Atem shrugged.

Bakura blew out between his lips. “Who am I kidding? I’m hard as fuck right now.”

He maneuvered in between Atem’s legs and guided his cock to Atem’s asshole. He tried easing in, but couldn’t manage to get through until he used his hips to thrust forward. Atem sucked in a quick breath. Bakura looked at his face, trying to decide if it’d been pain or pleasure. Atem looked heated and his eyes were unfocused. Bakura figured it couldn’t be that bad with that hazy look on Atem’s face, so he eased up and pushed in again.

Atem whimpered with each thrust, but didn’t complain. Bakura watched his face. He thought Atem looked aroused, but wasn’t sure.

“Is this okay? Should I slow down?”

“S'good. Speed up.” Atem moaned. Bakura hitched his hips a little faster. Atem’s fingers clutched at the sheets and he tilted his head back.

“Better?” Bakura asked.

“Fuck yes. You’re… thicker. I like it.”

Bakura’s cheeks grew suddenly hot. The complement spurred him to thrust harder, letting himself relax a little and enjoy the tight suck of Atem’s flesh around his cock.

He leaned down and kissed Atem’s neck. Atem wrapped his left leg around Bakura’s waist. Bakura grabbed it and hooked it over his shoulder so he could get a better angle.

“Fuck! Fuck! Holy shit, Bakura!” Atem started screaming.

“Does it hurt?” Bakura slowed down.

“Don’t stop!” Atem screamed louder. “Harder! Please, God please! Please!”

A spasm tightened every muscle in Bakura’s body. He steadied his breath and focused on Atem’s face, trying not to think about how good each thrust felt. He didn’t know how much longer he’d last. Bakura closed his eyes and tried to focus on the feel of the sheets against his knees and not Atem’s body.

He went as fast as he could, going until sweat carved little trails down his brown-sugar colored skin. No matter how hard he tried to hold back, Atem’s curses and shouts were enough to make him want come.

Bakura’s silvery lashes fluttered as he opened his eyes. He saw Atem stroking himself and couldn’t last a second longer. Bakura rocked back and forth, leaning over Atem and staring at Atem’s face as he poured out into Atem’s ass. All the strength leached from Bakura’s body, but he forced himself to continue to move as Atem pulled on his own cock. Atem squealed and several bursts of come splashed against his tawny stomach.

“Holy shit,” Atem sighed. “That was good.”

“Hmmm.” Bakura grunted, collapsing beside Atem. His eyes lowered. He tried to keep them open, but he felt lost to the urge to sleep.

“A few weeks ago, you fell asleep on my shoulder,” Atem stared at the ceiling.

“Sorry,” Bakura muttered, still hazy and pleasant feeling from his orgasm.

“I started to comb your hair with my fingers, and you made this soft little coo sounds and then nuzzled against my chest and it was… so nice. It was so nice that I wrapped my arms around you and held you. I wanted to kiss you, and it scared me, so I waited until it was time to wake you up, finished the rest of Dragon Ball, and tried to ‘get over it,’ but the more I tried to push you away, the more I thought about you.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I couldn’t help it. I was afraid that if we got close you’d leave me… yeah, I know that’s stupid.”

“No, I mean you’re an idiot for thinking that you’re done with Dragon Ball. We haven’t even started Dragon Ball Z yet.”

“Z?”

“Fuck, lemme sleep a bit, yeah? You’re about to learn all about Super Saiyans.” Bakura intentionally moved to Atem’s chest and used him as a pillow.

“Bakura…”

“If you’re still worried, you know I think you being a card-game playing nerd is your only good quality, right? I’m not going to dump you for that. Maybe for being a smug-self absorbed bitch, but not for being a nerd.”

“You goddamn bastard.” Atem sounded happy despite his word choice.

“You can comb my hair with your fingers if you want to.” Bakura grinned.

“Quit bossing me around,” Atem said, but he did comb Bakura’s hair.

It was a nicer feeling than Bakura would have guessed, and so was laying on Atem’s chest. He’d never been with anyone before, but he figured that, like sex, he’d just fumble his way through, and hopefully they’d move through it right until the end.

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passionatewayhorsemanshipllc · 6 years

Text

IT ALL STARTED WITH A LITTLE CHEESE AND CRACKERS 10-14-18 (page 14)

“IF YOU BUILD IT THEY WILL COME”

About two months had passed since I moved into the barn of my dreams, when my feeling of anxiety was beginning to increase. I was there in New York, commuting and hour and a half to a job I used to live only four minutes from, I had a much larger living expense and now three horses to feed and care for. I had run an ad, when I first moved in, but was too chicken to set up any meeting with the only person interested enough to inquire. The main barn had let me play with a few ponies but I had all the empty stalls in my barn taunting me. I wanted to fill my own barn with horses to train. I mean, that IS what I moved there to do.

I expressed my concerns to Matt. I told him how worried I was that I wasn’t figuring out how to get myself known in the area. I had made flyers and hung them in local places, yet I hadn’t received a single call. I told him I was feeling defeated, like I might have made a mistake. Matt was always my voice of reason friend, and I knew I could confide in him about my genuine feelings, but I also struggled knowing that the money he fronted me would need to look a bit more like positive investment. To my surprise, he didn’t mention the money at all, he just quoted a saying from a movie, “If you build it, they will come.” I had never heard of the saying, or the movie, so he told me to get the movie. Matt did tell me basically what the meaning of the saying was, but he felt seeing the movie and the character’s sense of defeat (in the beginning) would help me feel better. I was so grateful that he wasn’t the type of backer that pushed for results or was constantly checking in. He was a friend who “gave” me money and was prepared to not ever see a dime back. He was a friend you just don’t find often.

I rented the movie Matt suggested. It was called Field of Dreams. Now, I admit that I wasn’t running to the checkout counter with a movie about baseball, but Matt insisted that I’d like it, so I rented it and headed home. Once I got home, I did a quick scan of my still undivided paddock. The horses were all together enjoying the brisk fall day. Once I saw that they were happy, I went inside, changed into comfy lounge around the house clothes and popped in the baseball movie.

I have no reason to recap the entire movie, but the part that I was asked to watch was very up lifting. Matt was right, it helped me in the sense of kind of showing me that it is not unusual to experience a lull in the beginning of something you dream of being bigger. The message I know I was supposed to get from it was to not give up. “If you build it they will come.”

After that day, I really changed my down in the dumps attitude. I played with Ritz and focused on Katie and Tyson too. Katie was a tough cookie at first, she had some strong opinions of who might really be boss, but after just a few discussions, she turned into a sweetheart quite quickly. Tyson was such a sad case, as he was just terrified of even the slightest movement.

I began to spend a lot more time around the other farm, just trying to be friendly, which was definitely out of character for me. I’m a bit of a hermit, a pretty territorial type person, so for me to venture out of the comfort of my own surroundings, to just hang out, was definitely not in my comfort zone. I realized though, people will not know I exist if I hide in my barn.

I often worked with my horses in the later evening so it was more private, and safer, but also so I could let the horses loose in the arena. Ritz was not used to being on line so much, so for him I felt it was almost necessary to give him that liberty time. Katie was coming along in her ground training and seemed to really develop a great bond with me. I had her doing some pretty cool stuff at liberty already by that time. Tyson, on the other hand, he was still having such a hard time adjusting. Most of the work I did with him, I did in the later part of the evening, after the main barn hours were over. I didn’t want to be trying to get on him and have a bouncing ten year old child pop into the staging area just to see who was in there and get myself hurt. Remember Tyson threw himself into walls in the barn, I was pretty sure he would kill me in open space.

I did work with Ritz often when other people were around, because he was the only real example of what I had to offer. Since he was being ridden at that point too, people could see just how well behaved that cool trick horse was as a simple riding horse too. I loved that no one could believe that he was only two years old. I think his age was the most fun answer to tell people when they'd ask about him.

I had begun to meet more and more people, some who kept their horses on the farm and others who trailered their horses in for their lessons. I was beginning to believe I was finally making friends. It is so much tougher to make friends as an adult relocating, than it is as a child. At least when you're a child, you are in school and almost force to make friends. As an adult, it is actually an effort you have to put forth, if making friends is important to you.

Well, making friends was kind of helping me out too. I picked up little “can you teach my horse to do that?” lessons. I actually had the main barn recommend me to one of their clients. She was into holistic and organic stuff, so of course a “Natural Trainer” might be right up her alley. I played with a few farm ponies for the farm owner’s daughter, but since there was a “trainer” on the premise for that barn, territorial issues arose. I was actually brought into a meeting about how they wouldn’t really be using my services as they already have a trainer and she expressed concern about her position there. They told me that their loyalty had to be to that woman and that they even assured her that there would be no threat to her position. Their “trainer” and I did things so differently that I really didn’t believe my being there should have been any concern for her. In our brief encounters she did make sure she tried to put me in my place by saying things like, “I don’t really get it, you are basically and over priced teacher of common sense.” Alrighty then, I guess I had my first rival. Whatever!

After having the roadblock announced to me, in terms of working with any horses up at the main barn, I knew I had to really try to reach out to the rest of the horse community. I called the newspaper again. I talked to Jessica again and mentioned my looking for the best times to post an ad. I explained to her that the one I ran for a full week really had no traffic. I also mentioned that the price was a bit steep. That’s when I learned of the “weekend only” special. It was way cheaper and it truly ran during the time when most people, who don’t get daily papers, would actually see it. At first I was kind of annoyed because I really felt like the last ad was a bit of a waste. So when I learned I could just run one for the prime days, I was much more optimistic about paying so much money. Jessica still had my first ad in her system so she read it back to me. I think we changed one or two things about it, but it basically remained the same. I approved it, gave her my authorization to bill my credit card and my new ad was set to run that Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

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