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tae-cup · 4 years

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Down With The Ship | One

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female!Reader

Summary: Captain Jeon Jungkook; a beautiful mess of blood and gold. His greatest treasure, may also be his greatest downfall.

Genre: Pirate!au

Warnings: Mild mild mild sexism, talks of arranged marriage, people being asses and some people being nice

Rating: T for Teens

A/N: I’m so impatient asdfkhslkfh Cross posted to AO3

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Word Count: 8.2k Words

Network Tag: @castlebangtan

Other: Masterlist

Previous (teaser) | Next

The ship had been sitting in the harbor for exactly two days, three hours, 30 minutes, and 41 seconds. You timed it, tapping your foot against the tiles of the hallway. The moon was still in the sky and wouldn’t be rising for another three hours. You had three hours to convince the crew of that ship to take you in. Why? Well, you didn’t want to get married, that’s why.

The gold band around your ring finger was more of a shackle than any chain or handcuff. You snuck out of the backdoor. It was...easier than you thought it. You wore a pair of baggy pants that you stole from your brother and a nightshirt with the end result being a tragic mess.

On your way, you ran into a young guard. His face looked new, so he was likely in training. He looked startled to see you there and you could almost feel the nerves rolling off of him. You smiled and he looked hesitantly from you to the backdoor.

“Hey aren’t you-?” He started, but you swiftly kneed him where the sun didn't shine and sprinted. He groaned in pain, falling down with a loud thud and probably waking up half the household. You didn’t have much time.

The wind ran through your hair as you hurried down the darkened streets. You tried your best to take the back routes, the smell of the sea drawing you nearer. You had always felt a connection to the sea, you couldn’t stay away from it. The crystal waters, the froth of a storm, the salt that tinged the air. You fell in love with it and fell out of love with your home. Ever since...You shook your head, trying to forget the past.

Your skin longed for the cool water to lap over it, to caress your body, and take you away from the awful life you had. Well, it wasn’t that awful, but it was certainly no way to live. Yes, you had luxurious items, but that wasn’t what you wished for. Adventure called to you as you neared the docks. The distant shouts of men and the sound of metal clanking against metal invaded your senses. In your hand was a small bag of necessities; a change of clothes, undergarments, a pen, and a notebook of papers. You made your way to the ship you had been watching for the past three days.

The ship was tall and proud, the mast reaching high into the sky. The sails were drawn in, the anchor weighing down the wood. The ship looked weathered but sturdy. There was a dim candle flame flickering in the round window of the ship. You took a deep breath and stood outside the hull. The walkway was drawn up so you weren’t left with many options. You checked your watch. You had two hours to sunrise. Two hours until everyone would begin looking for you, maybe less. You looked around the dock, searching for and gathering stones. You took a deep breath, returning to your spot.

Five chances. You held the other four rocks in your arm and then with your dominant hand, you gripped one of the stones. You winded up and threw. Clank. It hit the hull. No movement. You sighed and moved to aim for the window. Clank. It missed by a few feet. Three more chances. Your hands clenched and unclenched nervously. You had never been...the most athletic. Clank. Closer. Clank. Right on the money.

You held your breath, waiting as the candlelight suddenly disappeared from the window and the small circle popped open. The candle stuck out, now attached to an arm. The dawn was fast arriving, the sky lighting up into a gray sky, the clouds still overcast.

“Who goes there?” A deep voice barked out.

“I was wondering if you had any, uh, any openings on your ship for one more?” You called out, your voice traveling easily in the quiet. Upon hearing your voice, the hand withdrew, and instead, a face popped out of the hole.

“Little girl, do you know who we are?” The man had very defining features, his nose prominent and his lips wide.

“No, but I really just want to get out of here, you have to let me on.” You could almost hear your mother calling for you.

“There’s a merchant ship coming in the morning, you can hop on their ship.” You saw him look you over.

“Achem, sir, you don’t understand I...I need to go now.”

“You being chased or something?” The man narrowed his eyes.

“Something like that.” You smiled weakly.

Surprisingly, he laughed loudly and disappeared from the window. A few moments later he appeared on deck, a coat hastily thrown on as he lowered the stairs for you.

“Climb aboard.” He held out his hand and you hurried forward heart pounding. “I’m Taehyung, the gunner on this here crew.” He explained as he redrew the walkway. “Let’s just say this isn’t the first time we’ve helped a runaway.”

“Thank you.” You said breathlessly.

“Though, we’ve never helped one quite as pretty as you, maybe Jin?” He seemed to go off into his own tangent.

“I think you’re very...pretty, sir?” You said awkwardly.

“I’m glad you think so.” He laughed and slung his arm around your shoulder. “I think you’ll fit in just fine-”

“Kim Taehyung, who the hell is this.” A new voice barked. A tall man appeared from the shadows.

“Ah, Jungkook, this is…” Taehyung turned to you expectantly.

“Y/N.” You finished for him, summoning a smile despite wanting to turn around and run.

The man, Jungkook, was intimidating, his aura commanding attention. He had inky black hair and even darker eyes. The man looked like he had just gotten out of bed and yet he still looked handsome.

“Y/N, this is Jungkook, our fearless captain.” Taehyung stood up straighter.

“Nice to meet you.” You bowed your head.

“Why are you here?” Jungkook wasted no time.

“I’m running away.” You were apprehensive to tell him much else. What if he just delivered you back home after hearing your story? Would he think you were a stuck up brat?

“From who?”

“My mother,” You started, he scoffed. “And an arranged marriage.” You continued quietly, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. The ring on your left finger felt heavier than ever as he scrutinized you.

“Fine. You can stay, but you need to pull your weight.” He turned on his heel. “Follow me.”

Taehyung rushed forward, shoving you along as well.

“Exciting! He’s never this quick in his judgment, though he’s always had a soft spot for young ladies such as yourself.” He whispered.

“Y/N?!” Your mother’s distinct voice called. “Is that you?!”

“Shit.” You muttered. Of course, that guard went and tattled on you! What happened to the scout’s honor? Taehyung turned, along with Jungkook.

“I suppose that’s your people?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow and walked purposefully past you. He was at the side of the ship in four strides. “Who goes there?”

“Lady Y/LN. I request my daughter to be returned immediately!” Your mother’s shrill voice shot through the harbor. You winced at her tone, eyes meeting Jungkook’s. You begged him not to tell her, but he didn’t seem to register you at all.

“I’m sorry, we have no woman on this ship, Lady Y/L/N.” Jungkook responded curtly and walked away from the side, ignoring your mother’s protests. You watched him, confusion and shock written on your face. Did he just...defend you? No one had ever done that before, taken your side. It had always been you versus the world.

“Get ready to set sail. It seems we can’t stay here much longer and Ms. Y/N, I need to speak with you immediately.” Jungkook clasped his hands behind his back, walking forward.

You hurried after him, falling into step just a pace or two behind. You weren’t well versed in crew behaviors, but if he was the captain, he was much like a nobleman. And you always had to fall a step behind a nobleman, regardless if you were a man or woman, but especially if you were a woman.

There were shouts as Taehyung wrestled his crewmates out of bed. As you sat in, what you assumed to be, Jungkook’s office, you could hear the footsteps of several other people. They all scurried to the demands of a new muffled voice.

Jungkook took a seat, propping his legs up on the desk and crossing them. You realized he was, in fact, no nobleman at all. He watched you carefully as you sat across from him.

“So, you’re going to tell me all about yourself, little miss, and then I’m going to give you two options, got it?” He rested one arm on the back of his chair, the other hanging over the armrest.

“Right.” You cleared your throat, still trying to take in all that had happened. His eyes appraised you, flickering from your eyes to your lips to your neckline.

“Well, I’m Y/N, as you know. I ran away because I’m being forced to marry someone I don’t love, simple.” You explained dryly. You flashed your engagement ring and then slid it off, pocketing it. “Haneul isn’t a bad guy, but we don’t mix at all and I don’t think I’d survive a day married to him.”

“Alright.” That seemed to be a good enough excuse. The captain pursed his lips in thought. “I’ll give you two options. Option one; you join my crew full time. Option two: we drop you off at the next town and you’ll be on your own.”

“Both sound...not so bad.” You thought for a moment. He seemed amused. You wanted adventure, you didn’t want to be dumped off on your own again. “I’ll join your crew.”

“Do you know who we are?”

“No, I just saw your ship, and, well, I’ve always loved the sea.” Your eyes went distant as you thought about it.

Jungkook smirked, letting out a chuckle of laughter. He took his feet off the desk and leaned on the desk, chin resting on his interlaced fingers.

“Welcome to the crew of the Bulletproof Boy Scouts.”

Shit.

Okay, so jumping aboard the most feared pirate crew of the decade was not the best decision you had ever made. It was right up there with agreeing to an engagement you knew you would never follow through with and stealing your mother’s jewelry.

“You can’t fish, you can’t wield a sword, and you can’t even cook. So what can you do, little lady.” Jungkook frowned, drumming his fingers impatiently on the desk.

The slight swaying of the ship was making you nauseous and it didn’t help that you were below decks and not up above. It felt extremely stuffy, borderline claustrophobic.

“I can draw. I’ll help you navigate and write out maps.” You cleared your throat, trying to settle your stomach.

“Hm…” His eyes were cold, calculating, as he seemed to think it over. “I suppose so, but you’ll need to help Jimin with his chores as well.”

Jungkook stood and motioned for you to follow him. He opened the wooden door and led you down a series of halls. They were short and thin. Your shoulders almost brushed the sides if you walked straight. You didn’t feel...scared of Jungkook. He was definitely intimidating, but you didn’t fear for your life. You had heard the tales of his crew being merciless and cutthroat, not sparing a single person on a ship if they happened to raid it.

“There are some things we need to go over.” He stopped and turned to you.

You stopped short, trying not to bump into him, but a wave of dizziness washed over you. You were definitely feeling a bit seasick, but you had enough pride not to tell him.

“Which are?” You stared at him, your expression confused.

“In order to become a full-fledged crew member, you need to go through our trials.” He explained.

You waited for him to continue, your attention still on him. You were very good at following orders, you had been doing so your entire life. Reading social cues and understanding another’s position were all things you had been taught at a young age. It was mostly to prepare you for a valuable suitor, but you never had any intention of following through on that part.

“The trials are three things that you should be able to get through easily.” The dark-haired male turned back around, beckoning you to follow him. You fell into step once more. He stopped outside of a door.

“In here are your quarters. Now, before you go in, I’ll tell you about the trials. First, you need to spend a night in the holding cell below deck. Second, eating Jin’s carrot soup. It sounds innocent, but there’s always been something off about it. Third, you need to walk the plank.”

“Walk the plank?” Your eyebrows shot up.

Yes, you could float in the water, even keep yourself upright, but you had never been a strong swimmer.

“If this is your ploy to get rid of me, it won’t work, captain.” You gave him a mocking salute, before remembering your place.

He chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you, Little miss.” You ignored the shiver that rolled down your spine.

“Y/N.” You interrupted, getting tired of being referred to as ‘Little Miss’.

“You earn your name here, darling.” He tilted his head and then turned around. “Meet at the jail tonight for your first trial.” He then proceeded to stride into the hallway and disappear around the corner.

You sighed and took a glance around the hall. It was completely silent except for the creaks and groans of the ship. You carefully opened the door. Inside, there was a desk pushed to the corner of the right wall. The left wall had a bed and on the wall farthest from you was a small round window.

You rushed forward and unlatched the window, letting the night air into your tiny room. You curled your fingers around the cold edge of the window, taking in a deep breath to settle your nerves. You swayed slightly, still trying to get a hang of walking on a ship. Five deep breaths later and you resigned yourself to shut the window. You quite liked the fresh air, but it was starting to get chilly.

The morning sun had finally graced its golden hue across the shimmering ocean. The waves skipped by, nothing more than a blur as the ship sailed away from the port. You opened your small bag and organized your things. You placed the notebook and pen in the desk drawer and stored your spare change of clothes under the bed.

It wasn’t anything too fancy, just a summery yellow dress that you knew would come in handy as it got warmer. There was a soft knock at the door and you would have missed it if it weren’t for you already standing near the door.

You pulled out a string of white lace and tied your hair up with it. Then you shoved the rest of your belongings haphazardly under the bed.

“Hello? Is our little sea artist in there?” A voice you didn’t recognize called out to you.

“Yes, coming!” You knocked into the bed frame, hissing and cursing under your breath.

Being on the ship was already reversing years of properly trained manners. It wasn’t like the principles of dance and etiquette had ever really stuck in your mind anyway. You had only been on the ship known as BTS for about two hours and you had already grown attached.

You threw open the door, nursing your smarting elbow. A man with broad shoulders and the most perfectly shaped face you had ever seen stood in the doorway. He had an eyebrow raised, his hand frozen mid knock. You cleared your throat awkwardly.

“I’m sorry have we already met? I’m pretty bad with names.” It was a lie, but to be fair, the morning had been hectic. He just let out a laugh at your antics.

“No, I don’t believe so. I’m Kim Seokjin, but please, just call me Jin.” He said, dipping his head.

“Y/N.” You responded in turn and followed his gesture.

“Nice to meet you! I’m the boatswain here on this fine ship.” He grasped your arm and dragged you above deck. “The Captain asked me to give you a tour and introduce you to our crew.”

“Oh my god, I’m supposed to eat your soup later.”

He seemed deeply offended and he crossed his arms. “I don’t know why that’s still on the stupid trials. I don’t add any weird ingredients, it’s just carrot!”

Jin was the opposite of any rumors you had heard while Jungkook hit the mark perfectly. The contrast was astonishing.

The wind whipped around the loose strands of your hair as you stepped into the blinding sunlight. Waves flickered by, splashing harmlessly against the hull. Jin led you over to the bow of the ship where a young man was standing at a large steering wheel. He was accompanied by a shorter man and they were giggling about something. The picture was pretty adorable.

“Hoseok!” Jin shouted over the wind, pulling you until you were right in front of them. The young man flashed a dazzling smile, handing the wheel over to the man next to him.

“Hello! I’m Hoseok, everyone just calls me hobi, except for the Captain, but he’s a little grouchy.” The man, Hoseok, winked. You chuckled a little, Jungkook’s scowling face coming to mind.

“That’s Jimin, he’s the cabin boy and a little shy, but he’s right up there with the best of us.” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the man behind him.

Hoseok had dark brown hair and chocolate eyes that put you at ease. Jimin had light blonde hair and chubby cheeks. He sent you a shy little wave that made you want to coo.

“Alright, now get back to work, Hoseok. You can’t trust Jimin with the wheel for too long.” Jin rolled his eyes as Hoseok mumbled something under his breath. Then you were swept away to the other side of the ship.

A tall man wearing a loose white top and black pants stood at the railing, clearly deep in thought. Jin cleared his throat loudly, causing the man to startle. He turned around, his mouth open to scold the older man when he noticed you.

“H-hello.” The man seemed quiet. His voice wasn’t soft-spoken, just a little timid about the words he chose.

“Aish, snap out of it. Where’s our fearless first mate, yeah?” Jin patted his back hard, making him cough a little.

“That’s enough! That’s enough! You just startled me.” His voice was husky and low, but not as deep as Taehyung’s. “I’m Namjoon, first mate. You must be the new little miss.” There was a look of disdain in Namjoon’s eyes. “It’s been a while since we’ve had fresh meat.”

“Ah ha...right.” You subconsciously pulled your hair back tighter.

“Someone should go wake up Yoongi, he’s probably still sleeping and we need more fish.” Namjoon instructed, his voice firm without a hint of the timidness displayed a few moments prior. You could see why he was the first mate. Even Jin straightened slightly in his presence.

“Well, looks like there’s no one else around to do it.” The man beside you placed his hands on his hips, a frown was evident. “Come along, missy. You get to have the pleasure of waking him up.”

“I have a bad feeling about this.” You mumbled, following him below deck anyway.

You immediately wanted to go back up. Once you had experienced the freedom of standing on the deck, you couldn’t imagine electing to stay below deck for long periods of time. On another note, your parents would never allow you to sleep past 8:00 A.M. Yet another reason you were an opposite to this sleeping man. Jin took a right and stopped outside of a door.

“I just need to wake him up?”

“Sh!” He put a finger to his lips, then nodded frantically and pointed towards the door.

Then he bolted. He turned the corner, heavy footsteps pounding against the wood floorboards, a creak every now and then.

You sighed as you watched him go. You crossed your arms, pondering what to do. Why did no one want to wake this man up? He was probably harmless, but then again, this was the Bulletproof Boy Scouts who were known for being merciless. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of your neck stood tall. He’s standing behind me, isn’t he?

You turned around, halting a shriek from exiting your throat as you came face to face with a very pale man. You assumed he was Yoongi. Yoongi had very pale, bleached blonde hair and dark eyes. His face didn’t change when you met his gaze. The only sign he wasn’t a mannequin was his eyes moving to take you in. Then, his lips quirked into a smile.

“So I see the others didn’t have the balls to wake me up and instead sent the new girl?” He scoffed. “As if that would change anything, anyway, I’m up now so whatever, you’ve done your job. Now shoo.”

The interaction ended so quickly you got whiplash. The door shut in your face with a loud slam.

“Ah, it’s okay, miss, it’s a real skill to wake him up.” Jimin stood at the end of the hallway, a small smile on his face.

“Oh no, he’s awake, just rude.” You said, emphasizing the last part.

You really should be more thankful, but after meeting the crew, they didn’t seem so bad and you felt yourself quickly easing into the groove of things. There was a muffled crash from inside the room and a string of curses made their way through the door. You let out a breath.

“Anything else I need to do?” You asked, stepping closer.

Jimin seemed to ponder this before wildly shaking his head. His lips were pressed together and you weren’t sure if he was shy or staring at you with distaste. Considering his previous actions, you decided on the former. All the men on the ship held an intimidating presence, but Jimin felt timid. His aura was shy and withdrawn, yet he never seemed bothered by teasing.

“I’m just the cabin boy. If you want a specific job, ask Jungk-I mean the captain.”

“Right.” You nodded your head. Then the two of you fell silent.

You reflected on the men you’d met so far. Hoseok was kind with a warm face and sunny smile, you couldn’t imagine him being as vicious as people claimed. Jimin, who stood before you, had a quiet way about him, but he had the cutest gestures. Jin had a very motherly presence, warm, welcoming, and much like someone who you could depend on. Yoongi, who you’d just met, was, as you called him, rude. He seemed grumpy, a little rough around the edges, but was most likely a good guy. Taehyung was odd. He had this energetic way of conducting himself, yet his personality shifted so drastically when he spoke to Jungkook.

Namjoon held a look of disdain in his eyes when you introduced yourself to him. You chalked it up to him being apprehensive about suddenly have a new person on board. Jungkook was quiet and a bit of an enigma, but he always seemed to have a rage simmering just below the surface. His face floated into your mind and you had to stop yourself from blushing at the thought. Jungkook was one of the most handsome and shockingly beautiful men you had met in a long time. Which was saying a lot since you mostly spoke to nobility in your time at home.

“Right, well,” you stuttered awkwardly. “I guess I should get going.” You brushed past him as you made your way upstairs. He didn’t move, still a little dazed it seemed.

The ocean air was a welcome breeze. You made your way to the nearest railing and leaned over the edge, watching the land grow farther away. The winds were in your favor. The day was clear and the sun glinted off the ocean, making it shine like a diamond. Yes, a diamond that you wanted to spend your entire life polishing and sailing over.

“You might fall in if you lean too far over, little miss.” The unmistakable voice of the captain himself came from your right. You turned to look at him, ponytail flying around your neck as you faced away from the wind.

“Yeah? And who says I don’t want to?”

“The little miss has quite the sharp tongue already.” He watched you carefully, his eyes flicking over your body.

You knew these men had likely never worked with a woman before, but they all acted like you were the first meal they’d seen in ages. It was as if they’d never even seen a woman and that was factually untrue because Taehyung and Jungkook spoke with your mother. Though, you wouldn’t blame them for mistaking that screeching owl for some animal instead of a noblewoman.

“Must be the effect of being around you, lover boy.” You said without thinking, then suddenly halted. He raised an eyebrow and then barked out a laugh.

“You are a funny one, miss.” His eyes crinkled in amusement, his lips curling to show off a bunny smile. You huffed a little and turned back to look at the ocean skidding by.

“It’s beautiful out here. I thought I’d never see it.” You said after a brief pause. He just nodded, looking out over the deep cerulean blue of the sea.

“Despite all differences, everyone on this ship shares one thing in common.” He began, taking in a sharp inhale of salty air. “We all hold a deep love for the sea.”

The jail door slammed shut, keys locking it into place. It was dark, damp, and cramped down in the holding rooms. They weren’t so much rooms and more like little jail cells, metal bars, and all. You groaned, trying to reason with Taehyung.

“Taehyung, it’s so cold, could I at least have a blanket?” You pleaded. Sure, you sounded spoiled as fuck, but it was pretty chilly and you were probably going to catch a cold.

“No can do.” He stated simply, brushing his fingers through his long dirty blonde hair. In his other hand, he swung the keys around on the ring.

“What if the ship starts sinking, will you just let me drown?”

“The ship won’t sink.” His words did little to ease your worries.

Your teachers had always called you a worry wart, impulsive, and you had the habit of then freaking out when those impulsive decisions led to a bad situation. Just like now. You crossed your legs, leaning back against the wooden boards.

“Are you going to stand there all night?”

“Nope.” Taehyung smiled, or at least you thought he did. It was dark and the candle he held was on its last legs. “When the candle runs out, we switch places.” He explained. “I have the hard job of waiting until you’re asleep.”

“Oh boo hoo, you have to talk to me.” You rolled your eyes.

Your tutors would be horrified if they could see you now. There was a steady drip from the ceiling, which you didn’t want to know was from, and the wall you leaned against was slightly damp from the ocean crashing against it.

On the bright side, the ship was rocking so steadily it was quick to make you drowsy.

“Goodnight, little miss. Tomorrow I hope to call you Y/N.”

You came to around midnight. That’s what you thought at least. The jail was pitch black and you couldn’t help the little flutter of panic that crawled up your throat. Then there was a heavy stomping up the stairs that led to the jail and another set of stomping as someone descended. A flicker of light bounced over to you. The pale face illuminated made you wish you had woken up at a different time. Yoongi didn’t seem pleased to be awake either. You warily raked your fingers through your hair.

“What do you want?” You said, but your words lacked their usual bite. You were tired and the darkness weighing at the edges of your eye was honestly terrifying.

“Not sure, but I know I don’t want to be here.” Was all he said before falling silent, his eyes watching you like you were prey in the dark. The lull of the ship swept you up in its arms and carried you into dreamland once more.

The next time you awoke, you assumed it was before the dawn. You were met with a snoozing Jimin, the candle hanging limply out of his hand. The wax dripped steadily onto the floor.

“Jimin.” You reached through the bars, hand landing on his foot. He jolted awake, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh no, I fell asleep.” He mumbled, carding his fingers through his hair.

“It’s fine. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” You smiled sympathetically.

Jimin seemed like the type to rethink things a lot, to regret or feel guilt unnecessarily. You were like that in a lot of ways and in all honesty, you saw in him the woman you were trying to break out off.

You had been taught all your life to be a simple woman. Simple-minded, not outspoken, and certainly no self-confidence. While you never took the subliminal messaging to heart, you always knew your place in society, and sometimes you could see that messaging shining through.

They did this using a lot of guilt. You remembered once asking to play with the boys instead of playing tea party, but the others screamed ‘what would your mother think? Your parents work hard for the money for your pretty dresses only for you to ruin it.’. He had never cared...Your mind drifted back to your guard from a few years ago.

“Captain will kill me, though.” Jimin took a breath and slapped his cheeks to wake up.

“My back is so sore.” You groaned, hand going to massage your lower back.

“The beds upstairs aren’t much better.” The man snorted. “Captain says that it’s a deterrent to slacking off. That doesn’t stop Yoongi, though.”

You watched him carefully, a small smile on your lips. Jimin came across very meek, but he had survived for a seemingly long time, so he must be strong in some capacity.

“Tell me about yourself, Jimin.” You kneeled next to the bars, wrapping your cold hands around the metal.

He tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“About...myself?” He asked. “Hm, people usually don’t ask me that.” He took a moment to think. His hand patted his non existent facial hair. You waited patiently, it wasn’t like you had anywhere to be. It was sort of calming.

“Well, when they say you’re not the first runaway they’ve helped, they mean me.”

“You ran away too?”

“Sort of. My father always pushed me to sail the sea, to grow some chest hair.” He scoffed. “That didn’t help much, but at the time BTS was disguised as a simple merchant ship. So I took up a job working as the cabin boy under Jungk-the captain.” He straightened, patting down the front of his t-shirt.

“I think the captain felt bad for me when he revealed what they actually were, but he didn’t expect me to want to stay. I became a runaway. You and I are both wanted people.” He smiled wistfully at you. “But it’s been years and people stopped searching for a boy from a small town. Actually, we’re going to dock at my hometown, so I’m not allowed to leave. I usually do the supply runs, but people would recognize me.” He explained.

You thought over his words. A runaway, huh? You and I are both wanted people. Right, you probably had a bounty on your head, but you didn’t want the journey to end so soon.

“What is the name of the town?”

“Krestleven.” His face revealed a pain long hidden away. Your breath halted, the town triggering your hidden memories.

He stood against the wall as you surveyed the crowd for a suitable guard. His eyes were as blue as the sky, as deep as the ocean itself. And you found yourself drowning. You pulled yourself from your thoughts.

“Do you miss home?”

His eyes held a far away look. He seemed frozen, eyes moving slightly as he thought. You wished you could see how his mind worked. Then he looked you in the eyes, his face void of emotion.

“BTS is my home now.”

You stretched out your limbs, releasing a sigh of relief as your bones cracked. It was nice to breathe the fresh air. Down below, you had gotten a tad seasick and nausea wasn’t the best when you were in close quarters with yourself. The day was gray, heavy clouds rolling over the sea like an omen. Hoseok and Jimin looked tense as the ship came into view of the settlement. Jungkook, who stood next to Namjoon at the side, was frowning.

“Tell Yoongi that Jimin can’t go.”

“It’s been years, Jungkook, they won’t recognize him.”

“We don’t know that.”

“My word is final, Namjoon.”

Namjoon stiffened, gave a curt nod, and strode toward the stairs that led below deck. You hesitantly took a place next to the captain. Unlike the real world, in this fantasy, you had no idea what your place was. You didn’t know what boundaries could be crossed, but one night on the open sea had already opened so many doors for you. The captain barely registered your presence.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked.

“Well enough.” He said, but the dark circles under his eyes said otherwise.

You didn’t pry, simply nodding and turning back to watching the land come back into view.

“I can go.” You stated. His eyes turned to watch the side of your face, but you seemed serious.

“And why should I let you do that?”

“I’ve actually...I’ve been to Krestleven before.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we get a lot of our guards from there.” You shrugged. “I picked out a guard a while ago, a personal guard.” You bit your lip. “But he died one night, protecting me, so I tried to avoid going back.”

You remembered the screaming, the crying. Days you spent inside, remembering his touch. So you swore to never love again, or that the next person you loved would truly be the one. You could only afford yourself one heartbreak and you planned on throwing yourself deep into it if you were to ever fall in love again. Jungkook seemed to read you well, because he remained silent. He didn’t comment on the noticeable shift in your aura, the slightest tension in your shoulders.

“You don’t have to go.” He said after a while, his hand suddenly coming up to rest on your shoulder and you tried not to notice the wince on his face when his fingers accidentally brushed the open skin of your neck. It was a touching gesture, the proximity seemingly intimate. You felt your heart flutter, but you pushed it away.

“No, I want to go.”

Krestleven was as beautiful as you remembered it. Despite the cloudy sky, the sea was calm. The mountains in the distance towered over the cold town and all the houses were pushed together like penguins huddling for warmth. You had learned about penguins from one of your tutors. She had been a little...nutty as your mother would have said. She had been very enthusiastic about animals, but you always liked her best.

BTS had anchored out a little ways away and Jin took the rowboat with you and Yoongi to shore. Yoongi was quiet company, but Jin explained to you that it was in his nature. A man of few words. He had said. This had earned a glare from the shorter man.

Yoongi, being the striker, had extensive knowledge on the plant and marine life in the surrounding area. He claimed he needed to pick up some supplies in the town and then he’d be all set for the next voyage across the sea.

Stepping foot onto land was an odd experience after just gaining your sea legs. Your legs wobbled and you almost fell, almost. Yoongi, surprisingly, held out a hand to steady you, but you refused it. He raised an eyebrow, but then just dropped his hand and placed his hands behind his back.

“You two better behave!” Jin called, crossing his arms. He had to stay and watch the rowboat while you were gone.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.” You joked.

You decided to wear your yellow sundress today. The weather might not be perfect, but you’d fit in more with the crowd if you dressed like a ‘lady’. Here on land, you had to conform. You had to act like a lady and wear pretty dresses to appease the male eye.

“Over here.” He said gruffly, slipping into the crowd, and you found yourself chasing after him.

He was taller than you, but still shorter than most men so you were having trouble seeing him in the crowd. The market was crowded as people tried to get the first batch of goods from each vendor. Low stalls held vendors of all kinds. From jewelry to fish and fine art.

You caught a glimpse of his blonde hair every now and then as he easily wove through the crowd. You finally caught up to him at a bait and tackle store. The place had the putrid smell of fish and salt. You scrunched up your nose at the intoxicating scent.

“Hey, I’m just going to wait outside.” You poked his arm and he gave you a stiff nod of acknowledgement.

You went to stand outside, enjoying watching the people rush by you. Everyone was in a hurry to be somewhere, but you weren’t. You were completely calm.

It all shattered when you spotted a familiar bar across the way. You could still see him leaning against the side, his arms crossed around his chest. You wanted to drown in the depths of his eyes again. You could have sworn you saw him, a twinkle in his eyes as he beckoned you closer. But before you could take the first step, the crowd rushed by and he was gone, just like the wind.

You rubbed your eyes, cursing. Now is not the time to be seeing ghosts. There was still that twinge of regret, of melancholy. I should have run away with him the first time he offered. Suddenly, someone bumped into you, flinging you into the rush of traffic. Your breath quickened as you found yourself pushed farther away. You planted your feet into the ground after a while, forcing the crowd to part around you.

“Y/N?” You whipped around to see a familiar face. It’s the soldier. What did you say? Sorry for kicking you in the balls? Shit, wait, he’s probably here to take you in. So of course you bolted.

“Y/N! Come back! You’re mother,” He squeezed past the people, huffing out words between breaths as you fled. “Is really,” He reached out for you. “Worried.” He finished finally, his hand grasping your arm tightly. You spun around.

“What’s your name, soldier?” You said fiercely, your tone like a commander to quell your shaking legs.

“Myung-Suk.” He answered quickly, dropping your arm like he’d been burned.

“Good, I’ll remember that.” You narrowed your eyes, trying not to give away the trembling of your hands and the fear in your heart. With freedom comes fear. And suddenly you weren’t so sure you wanted to live life on the run. Wouldn’t that get exhausting? To always have your guard up?

“Is there a problem?” Yoongi’s low drawl interrupted your thoughts.

Myung-Suk eyed the shorter man warily before shaking his head quickly. He backed off and ran. You turned and grabbed Yoongi’s arm, pulling him towards the docks.

“What’s the rush?” He quirked an eyebrow, but you ignored him.

Your breath was labored as you tried to control the panic flooding your system. He dug his heels in, effectively stopping you. Your chest rose and fell, eyes darting from the dock to Yoongi to the market. You were getting paranoid and you swore you kept seeing figures watching you. You swore you kept seeing him.

“That was Myung-Suk, a guard for my mother.” You said quickly. “They’re probably going to come for us next.” You continued, your breath getting shallower.

“Woah, woah, take a deep breath.” Yoongi held your arms and took a deep breath to show you. You followed his lead and soon enough your heart rate was calming.

“Listen, this isn’t the first time we’ve been on the run with a wanted person. We also are smart and strong enough not to get caught. Have some faith in us.” He smiled gently, gracing you with his gummy smile that put you at ease instantly.

“Alright, I see what you mean.” You murmured. He released your arms and you shivered as the wind blew in.

“We should probably get going.” The blonde haired man looked at the sky. “It might rain and Jin needs to start making that carrot soup for you.” His voice was gruff, as if he hadn’t used it in a while.

You had noticed that he seemed quiet, almost silent, when around the other crew members. You weren’t sure if there was a reason for this, as he seemed very observant and to have strong opinions of his crew; good opinions mostly, but he still never shared them. You studied his side profile as he focused on helping Jin row the boat.

He was handsome, quiet, a little too quiet for your tastes. But the silence was nice.

“I should’ve known you were going to be trouble.” Jungkook tsked as Jin set the bowl in front of you.

“Now, now, captain, she hasn’t been nearly as much trouble as Jimin was.” Jin chided the younger man. Jimin flushed a bright pink and you sent him a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, but once again we’re all being forced to eat Jin’s carrot soup.” Taehyung sighed, picking up a spoon.

“Yah! You don’t have to eat it, Taehyung!” Jin shouted, causing the table to ripple with laughter. Taehyung’s ears burned as Jin continued the rant.

“Sheesh okay okay I’ll eat it.” Taehyung groaned and took a large spoonful to placate the older man. The others just pushed it around, their gazes moving to you, then Jin, then the soup.

You stared at the bowl before you. It looked harmless; a simple chicken broth and carrots floating around. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“What did you put in here?” You asked.

“Nothing!” Jin cried, taking a big spoonful of soup and then coughing loudly. You turned back to the concoction. The room held their breath when you took a sip.

“Well?” Jungkook’s lips were twitching into a small smile.

It tasted earthy and the carrots added a weird texture. You moved it around your mouth before swallowing.

“Oh, it’s not too bad-” You started and then it hit you.

It felt like your mouth was on fire. You gagged, coughing and taking a huge gulp of water.

“Jin! What the hell did you put in here?!” You choked, fanning your reddening face. Jin huffed and looked away.

“I didn’t put anything in there.” He crossed his arms like a child.

“You obviously did! My mouth is on fire.” You gasped, finishing the water.

The crew chuckled at your red face. Namjoon, despite having acted so cold to you previously, let a smile slip onto his face. He had dimples that you thought were quite cute. You could feel the captain’s stare piercing your profile so you turned to face him, patting your cheeks in an attempt to cool them down. He had an odd look on his face, his eyes bouncing between you and Namjoon. Then he casually stood.

“Well, since that is over, I’ll see you nice and early for the last trial.” Jungkook dipped his head and promptly left the room.

You pressed your lips together, eyes trailing as he walked away. The group tensed as the door to the galley shut loudly. Then Taehyung started choking on his soup and the atmosphere returned to normal.

It was too early to be dragged out of bed and all your limbs were sore from the hard bed in your quarters. The chilly wind made your hair hit your face like a whip. The clouds were still dark and the waves looked choppy. You leaned over the railing.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You called over your shoulder. Jin peered over the side.

“Yeah, it’ll be a little chilly but I’m sure it’s fine.” He shouted back.

Jungkook was holding up a map and pointing out into the distance while muttering something to Namjoon. The first mate nodded, paying close attention to his counterpart.

“Jin, this might not be the right time to say it but-”

“Little lady, are you ready?” Jungkook barked, his boots thumping loudly against the boards. The words ‘I can’t actually swim very well’ died on your lips.

The captain was wearing a loose black top and tight black pants. He wore a black coat that fell to his ankles with golden buttons lining the sides. On his head was a velvet black hate that was embroidered with gold stitching. You caught yourself staring and glanced away.

“Uh...yeah.” You said quietly, giving a slight nod of your head.

He scooted you towards the plank.

“I said, are you ready?” His voice was loud against the wind.

“Yes!” You shouted.

“Louder.” He commanded.

“Yes, I am, Captain!” You turned to face him, shouting with all your might.

It sounded more like a scream and oh, how you wanted to scream. You wanted to scream at him to stop calling you little miss. You wanted to scream about your engagement, you wanted to scream until you couldn’t any longer.

As the wind swept away the words on your lips, there was a freedom to screaming and no one being around to hear. There was a freedom in knowing your loudest thoughts could still be yours and only yours. You took a step back and then hesitated, turning to see the drop below.

“Then go.” His voice was suddenly low in your ear and you knew he was right behind you.

“I don’t know-”

Then there was a hard shove on your back and you lost your footing.

You were falling, the wind whipping your hair out of its ponytail, obscuring your vision. All you could see were the faces of your crew members peering at you from the railing, but Jungkook’s smirk was imprinted in your mind.

The world rotated as you twisted in the air. Streaks of gray and inky blue. You gasped in a breath, only to lose it as you hit the water. The splash was tiny compared to the unrest of the sea.

You could feel yourself getting lost, sinking deeper, the cold seeping into your bones. You could be at peace, resting here. Who knew that such a simple thing, such as stepping off a plank, could give you such a catharsis. No, you need to go back up, breathe, and live. It was a soft hum in the back of your mind, growing bigger as you sunk deeper.

Then your eyes flew open to see a figure jumping into the water, their dark shadow passing over you. Only then did you want something to live for; for the adventures you were yet to have, for the people you had yet to meet. The shadow reached out for you and pulled you up, yanking you to the surface faster than you thought possible. You gasped for air, breaking the surface.

The captain’s furious face met your blurry vision. “You idiot, why didn’t you say you couldn’t swim?”

“Why isn’t she resurfacing?” Jungkook gripped the railing.

A few more moments passed and the crew looked at each other, worry evident. He was angry. Angry you didn’t tell him you couldn’t swim, angry he pushed you, angry he didn’t understand your limits.

You had looked so afraid in the last few moments. And he wasn’t one to usually care about pushing too far beyond limits or to really care about anyone. His crew came first and he couldn’t understand if you were a part of that crew yet. Someone inside, he considered you a part of the crew, but you still needed to do the trials, it was tradition. He was frustrated. Why am I feeling this way for some stuck up noble girl?

Scowling, he shrugged off his coat and rolled up his sleeves, revealing his strong forearms. He threw his coat over Jin’s shoulder, who was still watching the water with worry. The man jumped at the sudden action.

“Captain what are you-CAPTAIN!” Jin rushed forward to see Jungkook clasp his hands above his head and dive right into the frigid waters.

Taglist: @lovelyseomin

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#bts #bts x reader #angst #fluff #pirate au #Jeon Jungkook #Jungkook x reader #Jungkook #tatawrites #Down With The Ship #castlebangtan #JK

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seerofmike · 4 years

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pairing: cryptane / miroctane / cryptoxoctanexmirage word count: 2,835 rating: t tags: polyamory, jealousy, birthday fluff, humor summary: Elliott and Taejoon are both dating Octavio, and won't stop competing with each other—especially today, on his birthday.

@apex-rarepairweek

today’s prompt is jealousy! though its less jealousy and more ‘crypto and mirage trying to one-up each other’ LMAO. also this is not cryptage, crypto is dating octane and mirage is also dating octane but they are not dating each other. :3c enjoy!

reblogs>>>likes! i read all the tags in reblogs! <3

read on ao3

read below

Octavio loved attention.

Loved the soft kisses his boyfriends pressed to the insides of his thighs or the highest points of his cheeks, loved the way their hands ran down his back or across his stomach, touches gentle. Loved it when they teased him or tended to him or hyped him up for his stunts, Elliott in that big dorky way of his and Taejoon in his much subtler, but still chaos-enabling, way.

All attention was good attention, to Octavio—he couldn’t bear to be ignored, so he often made a nuisance of himself whenever they were busy. Wrapped his arms around Taejoon’s neck whenever he was doing his Hackerman™ thing, drummed Elliott’s workbench with wrenches when he was working on something, constantly told them ‘watch this!’ in the Games whenever they were on a squad together because he wanted them to look at him.

It didn’t matter if their attention came in the form of Taejoon snapping at him, or Elliott swiping his wrenches back, clearly annoyed. It was attention, and he loved it.

And he especially loved this kind of attention—the jealous kind.

It was his birthday today, turning twenty-five, ‘a big age’, according to Elliott, and Taejoon had scoffed ‘you would know, wouldn’t you, old man?’ which had resulted in indignant sputtering from Elliott, mumbling something about ‘thirty-one’ and ‘bullying’.

The three of them rarely spent the night together; it was usually just Octavio and Elliott or Octavio and Taejoon, as the two men couldn’t really stand each other, and he usually didn’t mind.

But you know what was better and more exciting than just one boyfriend? Two. So they had compromised for his sake and spent the night on either side of him, touching him in the way he liked and massaging the nubs of his thighs. It had been really fucking hot and sweaty, but hey! He got to wake up and see both their stupid sleepy faces, so he loved it.

Octavio could tell that today was going to be different, though. He had fallen back asleep in Elliott’s arms (at one point in the night, he had hogged Octavio all to himself), but when he woke up again three hours later, the bed was empty and cold.

Glaring up at the ceiling at the realization that he had been left alone on his birthday, Octavio was just picking up his phone to type an aggravated message when someone entered the room. He then let his phone drop onto his chest when he saw just who (and what) it was; Taejoon, holding a box of sweet-smelling donuts.

“Ay, cariño, you didn’t have to,” he cooed, but internally he was going FUCK YEAH this is what birthdays are ABOUT. “Glazed and-?”

“Maple,” Taejoon said, and fuck, he loved this man. He knew the other didn’t particularly care for donuts, but he’d gone out of his way to get this whole-ass box just for him. “Saengil chukahae.”

Octavio flipped it open, seeing six freshly-made donuts awaiting him. He could feel the heat beneath his fingers through the box, could see that the glaze was still melting on the dough, and was just about to pick one up and eat it right there in bed when Elliott burst through the door.

“Ha-ppy birth-day!” Elliott announced, punctuating each syllable with a wave of the spatula in his hand, though he quickly froze when he saw them both. “What’s going on here?”

“‘Joon got me breakfast!” Octavio said enthusiastically, lifting the box up. He watched Elliott’s eyes narrow, and noticed that the man was wearing a ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron that he definitely didn’t own. "What's up?"

“I made breakfast,” Elliott said, sounding miffed. “Omelettes with peppers in ‘em. Just the way you like.”

Octavio perked up somehow even more at this news. “You did?”

“I did,” Elliott said sweetly, before his tone jumped right back into accusing. “And this guy knew I was going to!”

“I already told you that I was getting breakfast,” Taejoon said coolly, putting his hands in his pockets. “So I assumed that you would have stopped in your preparations. Evidently, I was wrong.”

“A home-made breakfast is better than any of this junk!” Elliott said, putting his hand on his hip and pointing his spatula at Taejoon’s nose. The other man didn’t even flinch. “I was even nice enough to make you an omelette. Now c’mon, babe, let’s eat.”

Octavio stood up with the box of donuts, but Elliott added, “And leave that shit in here.”

“Why can’t I just eat both?” Octavio asked, raising an eyebrow, and Elliott’s face flushed red.

“B-because—all that sugar—it’s not gonna taste good with the omelettes, okay?”

“It is his birthday,” Taejoon said shortly, pushing out of the room. “Let him decide for himself.”

Elliott huffed, flipping his hair out of his face as he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room as well, probably to berate Taejoon some more. Octavio watched him leave with wide eyes, before a grin split his face. Oh, today was going to be fun.

Octavio solved the breakfast problem by tearing a maple donut into chunks and dipping it into the hot chocolate he’d been provided after every bite of his omelette. The sweet and savory flavor of the donut mixed with the salt and spice of the omelette, and it made for a pretty exciting breakfast experience—made even better by the fact that Taejoon and Elliott were glaring at each other on opposite ends of the table.

After breakfast Octavio sat back in his seat and asked, “What'd you guys plan for today?”

“I was thinking that—” Elliott began, at the same time Taejoon mumbled, “I brought—”

They both stopped speaking, and when neither said anything for a while, Elliott spoke loudly.

“Well, I wanted to take you out to dinner. Without Park.”

“And I,” Taejoon said, emphasizing each word with a slice of his knife through his omelette. “Brought a movie for us to watch. Without Witt.”

“You could watch a movie any old time,” Elliott said, and Octavio glanced between them both. “I got us a reservation at the Sky Plate. The Sky Plate! Do you know how expensive that place is?”

“Well, I did not feel the need to flaunt my wealth in order to do something with Octavio today,” Taejoon said, snide.

“But what’s so fun about watching a movie?”

“He doesn’t even like half the food they serve at that establishment.”

“Well, how do you know?!”

“Because he is allergic,” Taejoon stressed, and there was a triumphant sort of edge to his voice. “To shellfish.”

Elliott’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide, and Octavio was amused to see the deep red flush rising from his throat and into his cheeks. His boyfriend was then looking over at him, eyebrows drawn up as he kept gaping like a fish.

“I totally forgot,” he eventually said, and Octavio saw Taejoon smirk out of the corner of his eye. “I-I can cancel it, don’t worry! I can make a different resoir...rev...resser—”

“Chill, babe,” Octavio said, and Elliott’s mouth snapped shut. “People tell me they’ve got good desserts. I’ll find something to eat.”

“You sure?” Elliott asked, worried, and Octavio nodded eagerly, because while he wasn’t much of a fine-dining person, he knew that with Elliott it couldn’t be boring.

When they stood up from the table Taejoon seemed displeased for some reason, and walked away without saying much else. Curious, Octavio wandered after him as Elliott cleaned up, and found his boyfriend sitting on the couch and typing on his phone.

“Whatcha doin’?” Octavio asked, leaning over the back of it to rest his chin on Taejoon’s shoulder.

“Checking the train times,” he said stiffly.

“Awww, why?”

“I don’t want to intrude on your dinner with Witt.”

Octavio blinked, before slinging his arm over the couch as well and grabbing Taejoon’s chin, turning his head to face him. “Y’know dinner isn’t for a while, right?”

Taejoon didn’t say anything, so Octavio braced his arms against the back of the couch before flipping himself over it, managing to land his ass on the cushions without falling off.

“Don’t be like thattttt,” Octavio whined, because he didn’t want him to leave. Elliott was great and all, but why settle for great when you could go for fantastic? Taejoon being here, vying for his attention and pampering him was ten times better than just Elliott doing all that. He wanted them both here.

“I wanna watch that movie with you,” Octavio said, sliding his hand over Taejoon’s chest and taking delight in the way he bit on his lower lip. “Por favor?”

“...Fine,” his boyfriend eventually sighed, and he got up to go rifle through the overnight bag he’d brought. Octavio sat upside-down on the couch as he listened to the sounds of Elliott loading the dishwasher, and when the man himself eventually stepped into the living room he smiled at Octavio and said,

“You ready?”

“It’s not even dinner,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I thought we could—”

“Your reservation isn’t until six, Witt,” Taejoon said, stalking around him with a DVD in hand. “Let us watch this film.”

“How do you know when my reservation is?” Elliott yelped, scandalized. “What the hell?”

Taejoon didn’t answer, and Octavio cackled at the look on Elliott’s face. Both of his boyfriends eventually reached a silent agreement to tolerate each other as they all settled on the couch, Octavio sitting between them.

For once he was lucky that his couch wasn’t very big; both men were sitting on opposite ends of it, but thanks to its short length, he was able to lay himself across both of their laps. He took off his legs and rested his thighs in Elliott’s lap as he leaned against Taejoon, feeling the other man rub his fingers soothingly over the bare skin of his hip.

The movie was pretty cool; a thrilling zombie adventure taking place on a train, though the build-up was rather slow and Octavio found his mind drifting elsewhere multiple times.

Soon enough it got exciting, and he found himself invested in the story, trying to read the subtitles as quickly as they popped onto the screen, but about halfway through the movie, he felt something warm against the back of his neck, and shivered.

Turning his head to see what the deal was, Taejoon kissed him again before he could speak, this time on his jaw, right beneath his ear. Shivering again, Octavio tilted his head, allowing his boyfriend to suck kisses into the sensitive skin of his neck as the movie progressed.

By the time all the action was happening—a dude was punching zombies—Octavio was hardly paying attention, Taejoon’s fingers tracing themselves deliciously across the skin of abdomen, feather-light and stomach fluttering in response, ticklish.

He reached behind him to grab the collar of Taejoon’s v-neck and pulled him lower, grinning against his lips before kissing him, rough and biting, just how he liked it. Taejoon moaned into his mouth, quiet, but the other man sitting with them apparently heard it.

“Whoa,” he heard Elliott say, and then a calloused hand was placed on his thigh. “I thought we were watching a movie?”

“Mhm,” Octavio hummed, and made a little ‘come here’ motion with his hand, mouth too occupied with Taejoon to do much else. It was a clear invite to come and kiss him, touch him, stroke all the places he liked—and he was rewarded with Elliott scooting just a little bit further down the couch to do just that, leaning close to get his attention.

Octavio turned his head and let Elliott pull him in for a much sweeter kiss, his beard tickling him as he did so, and his body felt so warm everywhere as Taejoon held him in his arms. His legs were spread, Elliott's fingers digging into the skin of his thighs as he kissed him in that uniquely Elliott way of his his.

But then the spell was broken as he was suddenly shoved off of Taejoon, and he gave a squawk as he hit Elliott’s chest.

“What the fuck was that for?” Octavio said, turning his head to glare at the man, and he saw him fold his arms over his chest and stare sullenly at the TV.

Okay, scratch that. All of this jealousy shit was not going to fly on his motherfucking birthday. How was he to receive attention from both of them if they acted like this whenever the other was giving him some?

Octavio tore himself away from Elliott and let out a huff so that they were both looking at him, raising his voice as he said, “It’s my birthday. Can’t you two get along for once?”

“He’s not—”

“I’m just—”

“Silencio,” Octavio interrupted, and they both looked at him with wide eyes. “Look, normally the whole ‘fighting over me’ thing is hot, but today, I just want you both to share. Is that too much to ask? Eh?”

Neither of them answered. Pissed off now, Octavio stared at the TV screen, not even bothering trying to read the subtitles in the state of anger he was in. Ten minutes passed in silence, and as the characters got into arguments on-screen, Elliott finally said,

“I’m—we’re sorry, Tav.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way,” Taejoon mumbled quietly, hesitant, before he felt the other touch his shoulder lightly. “I’m just not used to...this. Whatever this is.”

“Sharing,” Elliott supplied.

“He is not an item.”

“Yeah but that’s—”

“Shut up,” Octavio advised, and Elliott frowned, but obliged. “It’s whatever. I know you two don’t like each other, I guess.”

“But we can try to get along," Taejoon said firmly, and then his tone got a little sharper. “We are both dating you. Right, Witt?”

“‘Right, Witt’,” Elliott mocked, before pinching himself on the thigh and saying, “Right...Taejoon.”

Octavio looked between the both of them before returning to his previous position, thighs in Elliott’s lap and Taejoon’s arms wrapped around his middle. By the time the movie had ended (his eyes were getting kind of wet, and Elliott was full-on sobbing) it felt like an eternity had passed, but it was only noon.

Octavio got up to use the bathroom, and when he came back the atmosphere in the room wasn’t as stiff as it had been before. Elliott glanced up from where he was checking his reflection in his selfie cam, and said,

“I can change that reservation for a party of three. If you w-want. I’m Mirage, what’re they gonna say? No?”

He expected Taejoon to make some snarky comment in return, but he was surprised when the man said, “That would be nice.”

“Yeah!” Elliott smiled, eyes bright, and Octavio felt his heart do something funny in his chest. Grinning now, he approached them both and asked,

“Sweeeet. Now what’d you guys get me for presents, huh?”

He’d half-meant it as a joke, but he was really curious to see if they’d bought him something or not. Elliott practically jumped from the couch in his haste to get his gift, and when he handed it over to Octavio he was chagrined to see that it was covered in Mirage wrapping paper. It was a very poor wrapping job as well.

Tearing it off (and hearing Elliott complain) Octavio grinned somehow even wider when he saw that it was the new video game he’d mentioned wanting. “Oh shit, gracias!”

“Knew you were lookin’ for something new to play,” Elliott said, obviously proud of himself. “Saw that at the store and went hey, it’s that thing Octavio wants, and—”

Octavio threw his arms around him, and his smooth-talking turned into stuttering as he returned the hug. “A-and then I was like...I have w-wrapping paper left over from Christmas! I can make it all exta...exe..fancy for ya!”

"I love it. Thanks, babe," Octavio said, and felt satisfied when he managed to get the trickster, of all people, to shut up.

Taejoon’s gift wasn’t all wrapped up like Elliott's had been—he simply pulled the thing from his bag, and Octavio gasped when he saw it. It was a stuffed bunny, and it was purple.

“I know you probably meant it as a joke,” Taejoon said sheepishly as he tore the thing from his hands. “But...”

“He’s beautiful,” Octavio whispered, and then kissed the man on his cheek. Much to his delight, Taejoon’s face turned pink and he ran his hand through his hair, flustered.

Octavio looked up at both of his boyfriends before pulling them both down at the same time into a hug. He was really lucky to have them both, even if they argued over him and were jealous and petty and...

Well, that was what made them fun. He wouldn’t really have it any other way.

But just for today, they could learn to share.

#miroctane #cryptane #octane #mirage #crypto #apex legends

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hedwigstalons · 4 years

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High Expectations - Ch18

Short fic? Really? How the hell have we reached chapter 18 already?

@willow-salix has been a huge support all the way through. She wields the red pen mightily

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Eighteen

John closed the apartment door and basked in the silence. The last few weeks had been awful but the last few days had been hellish. If you had asked him two days ago what had been the hardest part of this summer he would have answered without hesitation his thesis defence interview, not because he had any difficulty with his project but because, even after 4 years at Harvard some of the faculty still struggled with his presence.

He had bounced onto the quad aged sixteen, looking more like twelve, and instantly made a name for himself by criticising the work of one of the more well respected professors on campus. It probably hadn’t helped that he had been right. Since then he had been dogged by whispers of ‘Daddy’s money’ or heckled as an android freak as he eschewed the company of the peers that would never truly be peers due to the gaps in both age and intellect. University had been a bittersweet mix of unbridled access to learning mixed with a social web to navigate that made high school look like an insignificant warm up. The culmination of it all had been his thesis defence in front of a panel who didn’t know whether to be intimidated by him or offer him a cookie for being a good boy. Still, he was walking away from it all, with dual honours and a postgraduate distinction, at an age not dissimilar from those just starting their higher education journey.

The troubles and torments of university, however, had nothing on the hell on Earth that was Boston airport for an extended period of time. He could now categorically say that this had been the worst part of the summer. The route between east and west coast seemed to be plagued by delays but this, his final time of making the journey, had topped the lot. Being held up for an unspecified period of time in an airport lounge had brought out the worst in humanity and after a delay that had pushed past 36 hours in the end he would be quite happy to never see another human ever again. With the apartment door firmly shut on the outside world he fully intended to recharge and bask in the solitude before Alan got home from school.

He padded up the hallway to deposit the travel bag containing a few meagre essentials in his room but never made it that far.

The apartment might have been silent but it wasn’t empty. His room was next to Alan’s and through the open door he could see that self same teenager sat cross legged on the bed, head set on, controller in hand and eyes glued to the screen that flashed with neon laser cannons and moved at a dizzying pace. Part of him wanted to tiptoe on past, pretend he hadn’t spotted his younger brother, and collapse onto his own bed. John could have sworn that he hadn’t done anything that could penetrate the teenager’s electronic cocoon but before he had crossed the doorway Alan’s head whipped round and fixed him with an intense blue stare.

Alan paused the game, dropped the controller next to him and slid off the headset. He continued to stare in a way that he could see was making his older brother uncomfortable, holding the eye contact that always made John squirm a little, but at this point he didn’t care.

The weeks before Gordon’s departure had been busy. With a fixed deadline firmly etched on the calendar Jeff had ramped up the pressure on Gordon to gain his pilot’s licence and all the myriad of special endorsements he would need beyond the basics in order to complete a cross-continental journey solo. Alan wasn’t quite sure why such a high rated licence was necessary but he had appreciated all the extra time at the airfield it necessitated. Almost every weekend had been spent there so that Gordon could get in the required practice and he had always tagged along, partly to spend more time with Gordon and partly in the hope of getting a lesson himself; it turned out flying was something he had a flair for and he relished those precious moments in the cockpit. But then Gordon had gained his licence and the lessons had dried up. Time in the sky went from being a priority to something his father was too busy to provide. It rankled that he wasn’t worth the effort.

And then the dreaded day had come. The day he lost the brother he was closest to to the military might of WASP. He’d probably come across as petulant and moody, his goodbyes stilted and brief, but the sullen exterior had been his armour protecting him from breaking as something inside him died. He hadn’t even been able to go with Gordon on the trip up the coast as had been the original plan. A last minute change had seen their father disappear off on some mysterious overseas errand, leaving Virgil to play taxi service to the WASP to be. He had begged to go too but unfortunately for him the start date for Gordon had coincided with Scott having some leave and Virgil was staying up north to indulge in some oldest brother bonding time. So he had been left behind, alone in the apartment, with the promise that John would have arrived by morning.

Morning had dawned but the promised sibling hadn’t appeared. The logical side of him knew there would be a perfectly rational explanation for John’s delay but the emotional side of him just added it to the heap of rejection he was feeling. No one gave a damn about him. Noone cared what he was doing. He’d turned right around and headed back into his room to kill zombies. When the second morning dawned and he was still alone the only difference it made was that the zombies were replaced by asteroids.

John was pinned uncomfortably by the stare. Everything about Alan screamed out that he was issuing a challenge, daring John to pass comment. If he had ignored John’s presence he probably would have been left alone but John was a Tracy too and as with all Tracys he never could resist a challenge.

“No school today?” he queried, one eyebrow raised in preemptive skepticism.

“Does it look like it?”

“What it looks like is you playing video games on a Tuesday in term time. The news didn’t mention any schools being flattened by freak hurricanes so why are you here?”

Alan just shrugged and went to pick up his controller again.

“Alan!”

“What?! It’s not like there’s any point me being there.”

“There is always a point to school.”

“Yeah? Well I’m not learning anything there, the stuff they set is just insulting.”

This was one point John could empathise with, boredom in the classroom was a familiar feeling to him. He felt lucky that he had met forward thinking teachers early on in his school career. Teachers that had put the effort in to find out his level rather than being happy to have a coasting child in the class that didn’t need their assistance. The result had seen him progressing through grade school at a pace that, while it still felt slow to him, at least meant he wasn’t inflicted with the full, tortuous twelve years. Alan on the other hand had been forced to stay firmly in his age grade.

“What about your friends, surely you’re bored here without them?”

That just earned him an eye roll.

“Can we just skip the questions and head straight to the part where you lecture me.”

“Would it make a difference? I’m not Dad but you do realise he is going to be majorly pissed when he finds out, don’t you?”

“He’ll only find out if you tell him.”

“You think he won’t find out from school?”

Alan just sighed.

“Seriously Johnny, Gordon and I got all comms from school diverted directly to us years ago. I’ve already responded to their email.”

“You and Gordon did that?” He was secretly a little impressed that his brothers had found a way to bypass the school systems although he was concerned that their father had seemingly never noticed.

“Well, okay, I did that. Gordon’s not so hot on the technical stuff but it was his idea. Dad’s never been that great at dealing with letters and permission slips so I just got in through a school admin account and updated the contact details. If it’s not a report card he isn’t interested.”

John decided not to pass comment on the low level hacking his baby brother had pulled off. Instead he picked his way across the minefield that was Alan’s floor to join his little brother on the bed. The mattress felt deliciously soft compared to the plastic seat upon which he had been forced to spend the night and he felt his bones sigh in relief. His own bed was still calling out to him but his big brother instincts were screaming at him to fix things, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what he needed to fix. The screaming won. He leaned across to grab a second controller off the cluttered bedside unit and synced it into the game.

“So, what’re we playing? I don’t recognise this one but then there wasn’t much time for gaming at Harvard.”

Alan looked bemused by the turn of events. Scott held an authority that demanded respect, Virgil would take a softer and more caring approach, Gordon provided a mix of straight talking and fun whereas their father subscribed to the school of parenting that was mostly indifferent until an indiscretion was unearthed. John was still a bit of an unknown entity, he’d never taken on the role of authority figure for Alan and he couldn’t work out his brother’s strategy.

“Uh, it’s something I made myself.” Alan disconnected his headset and the background music of the pause screen sounded out harshly in the otherwise quiet apartment eliciting an involuntary wince from John. He guiltily turned the volume down to a more comfortable level before resuming play.

They sat side by side in silence for a few minutes, blasting asteroids and navigating their way through a fast moving debris field. The game concept appeared simple and John wondered why Alan had done it; it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to stock up on the commercially available games.

“Games design is a new one for you, this a school project or something?”

John sensed the eye roll even without taking his own eyes off the screen.

“Hardly. School sucks.”

“So, why make the game?”

“It’s not about the game. I wanted to see if I could model a debris field. Thought if I could get it right it could be good training, you know, before astronaut school.”

“I think you’ll find Tracy College already has their own simulators. How do you even know this is accurate.” Alan had made no secret about his desire to head into space and it looked like that was still the life plan. Part of John hoped the game wasn’t accurate, the objects were flying in thick and fast and he was struggling to react in time to find a clear path for his craft and guide it through. Alan, on the other hand, was having no such difficulties; his movements were lightening fast and the game seemed to hold no challenge for him.

“Borrowed your books.” Alan set his own controller down as John’s ship took a direct hit and exploded in a mass of technicolour pixels that ended the game. He stretched out and plucked a weighty tome off the edge of his desk.

“Borrowed? I don’t remember you asking.” John recognised the volume as one of the few undergraduate text books he had investing in the hard copy of. Slips of coloured paper stuck out at intervals and the pages were rather more worn and well thumbed than he remembered.

Alan pointedly ignored the question and instead flipped through to the relevant pages.

“I’m not sure if I got this bit right though. I struggled to combine the effect of an explosion induced debris field interacting with a meteor shower.”

However John had been expecting his talk to go with Alan, it hadn’t been like this. He soon found himself drawn into an animated discussion of the core principles of astrophysics and how material behaved in a vacuum. Alan’s grasp of the subject, considering he was entirely self taught, surprised the elder Tracy. On his rare visits home Alan had always pestered him to go star gazing or asked him his thoughts on the latest developments in astronaut training but he’d had no idea that Alan’s interest had extended into him seemingly attempting to study most of the first year of his Harvard course from home. No wonder the kid was bored at school.

When Jeff returned later that night it was to find the two boys deeply engrossed in some project or other. Books and piles of scribbled notes lay scattered around them and John’s fingers danced through lines of holographic code as he pointed out some facet or other to the younger boy who seemed to hang on his every word. He assumed John was helping Alan with his homework and thought no more of it as he settled down to his own evening.

xoxoxox

“Mr Tracy, a Miss West is on the line for you.”

Jeff frowned at the unexpected intrusion from his personal assistant. “Miss West?” He couldn’t place the name.

“She says she is calling from the High School, Sir”

“Put her through then.” He paused a moment until the slight click indicating a change in caller reached his ears.

“Mr Tracy? I’m Sarah West, Alan’s home room teacher.” The woman on the other end of the call sounded slightly nervous and with good reason, the Tracy reputation was formidable and seeing Alan’s name on her class list when he had joined the school had led to rounds of commiserations in the faculty lounge.

“Miss West, what can I do for you?” He tried to keep the puzzlement out of his voice. The last time he had received a call from the school, or any kind of communication now he came to think about it, had been over Gordon’s suspension. He hoped he was not in for a repeat of that embarrassing incident.

“I just wanted to check on how Alan was doing. The class are all missing him and hope he is able to return to school soon.”

Jeff understood the words being spoken but the actual sentiments made no sense. As far as he was concerned Alan was at school at that very moment. He kept his voice carefully neutral.

“I thank you for your concern Miss West. I will certainly pass on your regards when I see Alan this evening.”

“Thank you Mr Tracy. Please accept my best wishes for you and all your family, it can be so hard when these things happen. Please keep me informed of his progress through the parent portal and once Alan is well enough to come back we will look at putting a catch up and transition programme in place for him. Alan is a bright boy and I have every confidence that he will be able to catch up with these missed weeks.”

“Thank you Miss West. I will of course keep you informed. Now if you will excuse me.”

“Of course Mr Tracy, goodbye.”

“Goodbye Miss West.”

Missed weeks. The words rang out in his head, causing him to rub his temples. Trouble at school had always been Gordon’s domain, he’d been gone for months but still his influence was being felt. Alan had always taken after John until now; good grades, generally studious and with a passion for space. Whatever was going on Jeff knew he needed to nip it in the bud. Pausing only to inform his PA that he would be heading out for lunch and might not return that day Jeff headed back to the apartment.

Jeff found Alan in his room, engrossed in some project or other. He rapped smartly on the doorframe, breaking the teen’s concentration and causing him to look round in surprise. The look Jeff was treated to wasn’t one of fear or remorse though and there was certainly no sign of guilt at being caught where he shouldn’t.

“Alan, my study. Now!” He strode off down the hallway without waiting for a response.

Alan sighed and followed, knowing that to ignore a direct command would be foolish. By the time he reached the study Jeff was already behind the desk in his customary position for dispensing judgement, a situation Alan had rarely been in but had certainly heard about often enough from Gordon. He was more than a little intimidated at the prospect of what was to come but he tried not to let it show as he stood there, ramrod straight, waiting for his father to make the opening move.

“So Alan, I had an interesting call from Miss West today. Explain yourself”

The words caused Alan’s stomach to drop, there was no way he could pass today off as an isolated incident now. He had been signing off on his absences via the parent portal but if his teacher had actually called up then it was likely his father knew everything. Not knowing what to do for the best he opted to say nothing. The silence stretched out uncomfortably as he felt himself being appraised by eyes as hard as flint.

“I see. Let’s keep this simple. How long have you been skipping school for?”

“Since the beginning of the semester.” There was no point lying about it now. After his few days of indiscretion when Gordon first headed off to WASP John had made sure he went off to school each day. At the end of the summer holidays though, with John and Virgil departed for Tracy College, there was no one to force the issue. September had arrived and with it the start of a new school year but among the faces arriving for a fresh round of learning Alan’s had been notably absent.

“Why? Your teacher seems to be under the impression you are unwell. Are you unwell?” The skeptical lilt to the voice and raised eyebrow would have made even John proud.

“No.”

“So why are you risking failing high school?”

“Failing it?” Alan snorted “School’s boring. I’d be able to get my diploma now if they’d just stick me in the right classes, then I could be done with the place.”

“And what makes you think you could complete your diploma now if you won’t attend class”

“John did.” Alan’s chin jutted out in defiance and Jeff was given a sudden and uncomfortable reminder of another son who had found school far too easy. The arguments may have had a different focus but Alan wouldn't be the first Tracy to have found the system too limiting, the difference being that John had been fast tracked before the boredom got too much. “I’m not learning anything at school. It’s not like I’m just flunking out though, John’s been sending me some stuff through that’s far more interesting.”

“That’s as maybe but did John tell you to just ditch classes? I seem to remember him maintaining an exemplary attendance record”

For the first time Alan felt a wave of guilt, the weight of it causing him to bow his head in shame. John may have agreed with him that the school work he was being set was far too easy and been coaching him on more challenging topics to feed his thirst for knowledge on all things astronomical, but his brother would never have condoned him skipping class. He was not going to let John take any of the blame for his choices.

“No, Sir.”

“I see.”

Alan wasn’t quite sure what it was his father saw as he stood there being appraised like some interesting specimen. There was another drawn out silence. He could almost hear his father’s thoughts as he considered his next move.

“Show me.” Alan’s head jerked up in confusion. “Persuade me. A key skill you would learn in school, if you were there, is how to present a well balanced and constructed argument. Prove your case. I’ll be here waiting.”

Alan had been expecting some sort of reprimand, either a bawling out or a quietly pronounced punishment. So far he had received neither and he was feeling a little on the back foot but then his father had a flair for the unexpected, it’s what made him a formidable adversary in the boardroom. He retreated to his room to think upon the challenge. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to prove, didn’t have a clue what his argument was or what he wanted to achieve but he knew he had better come up with a plan fast. It felt like he was being offered a lifeline of some sort but a lifeline that had the potential to cut you down if grasped in the wrong way.

He retreated into his room and sat down at the desk, the detritus of his latest project from John scattered in front of him where he had abandoned it at his father’s command. What did he want? He knew he didn’t want to go back into that hell-pit high school, each day of drudgery just sapped the life out of him, but how could he prove to his father that school was only holding him back? He gazed unseeingly as the scribbled formulae he had been working on, all the time conscious that his father wouldn’t wait forever.

Those same formulae presented him with his answer. His father had always been focussed on results, getting the most efficient return on his investment and abhorred anything he viewed as a waste of time. Alan knew that if he could prove beyond doubt that attending school was just wasting precious learning time then he might never have to go back. He started gathering together the work he had been doing for John as evidence that he really didn’t need to sit through another hour of basic trigonometry when he was already able to apply it to complex problems.

Jeff sat back and waited. He couldn’t predict Alan’s next move but then he realised he didn’t really know Alan at all. All the way through the young boy’s life his care had fallen to others. Others had formed him and moulded him and evidently turned Alan into someone capable of missing several weeks of school under his nose without him realising. Those influences had all been evident during their short exchange. He had witnessed Gordon’s defiance and determination, John’s intellect and Virgil’s sense of justice. Even traces of Scott were evident in the set of Alan’s jaw and the way he held his shoulders despite Scott only really being present for half of Alan’s short life. How telling that a brother absent some eight years held more influence than he did as father. If there was one thing common to all his sons though it was the ability to rise to a challenge; the afternoon had the potential to be surprising.

Jeff never made it back to the office. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had a meaningful and in depth discussion with his youngest son. His conversations with Alan were normally limited to a few perfunctory exchanges in the evening and maybe a goodbye if Alan was up before he headed to the office. Over the course of the afternoon he got more insights into Alan than any mere report card could give. For a start those bland documents could only show that Alan had met the maximum expected standard for his class, behind the lists of grades his son’s true abilities had been hidden.

Alan might have been skipping school but he hadn’t been squandering his time. Jeff was treated to comparisons of the high school math curriculum compared to the problems John had been setting, ostensibly as a way of Alan bolstering a future college application as the middle Tracy had been unaware that the youngest had abandoned his traditional studies completely. Physics, coding and a raft of other topics handy for the modern astronaut similarly followed and it became clear that Alan was willing to put the effort in on the topics that interested him.

Once Alan had finished lambasting the Californian education system he turned hopeful eyes on his father.

“So, can I quit?”

If there was one thing that Jeff agreed on it was that the current curriculum being inflicted on Alan was uninspiring and certainly not challenging for the youngster. He was also conscious that his lawyers had not managed to secure the removal of their family tragedy from the text books in time for this academic year and therefore Alan would be subjected to the same ordeal as Gordon in just a few short months time if he stayed in the classroom. However, he also knew that without a high school diploma Alan would be unlikely to be able to access the higher education he needed to turn his dreams of space into a reality; he knew this from his own path to the stars.

“No.”

“But Dad…”

“No Alan, I will not have any son of mine walking away from education without a high school diploma. If you are at all serious about becoming an astronaut then you need to play by the rules, without a diploma you would be ineligible for any of the space programmes out there.”

Jeff watched the disappointment flood his son’s features and wondered if Alan had really been paying attention to his words and whether he would spot the loophole in his pronouncement. He waited as Alan put together his next move, he could almost see the thoughts as they played out. Alan always had been the son to wear his emotions closest to the surface.

“I just have to get my diploma, right?” There was a hesitancy as a glimmer of hope was seized on.

“That’s right.”

“But there are other ways of getting my diploma, not just in school. Right?”

“Potentially. So what do you want to do?”

“Can I...can I do homeschool? I’m sure we’ve got everything I need to join an online programme and then just get it done.”

Jeff paused as though contemplating the request. Really, having Alan homeschooled would be better for both of them; Alan could learn at his own pace and he would find it easier to have oversight of his son’s progress and commitment.

“You have until the end of the week to find a suitable programme otherwise I will march you straight back to the classroom myself on Monday morning. I know you don’t see the point of half the subjects you have to take but they are important, your diploma is important, even if it’s only as a paper steppingstone to better things.” Jeff found himself on the receiving end of one of Alan’s grins and realised sadly that he hadn’t seen one of those since their last flying lesson. “Now, don’t you have some research to do?”

Alan took the hint and headed out of the study with far more bounce than he’d had when entering it. Jeff had no concerns about delegating the task to his son, the similarities to John had been clear to see and he had every faith that Alan would find a suitable programme within the allotted time frame. The fact that the change to homeschooling came with the added bonus of one less loose end to tie up when the time came to relocate was not lost on him.

#High Expectations #thunderbirds #Thunderbirds fanfiction #Jeff Tracy #Alan Tracy #John Tracy #space brothers getting their own way

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Not Your (soul)Mate {7/15}

Killian Jones doesn’t like the idea of soulmates. He sees how happy his friends are with theirs, but he still doesn’t like the idea, not when he’s found love and lost it time and time again only to still not know his sign. He has no markings on his skin, no voices in his head, but then one day he meets Emma Swan and everything changes. Because, well, he may not have ink on his skin to tell him who to love, but the very first time that he hears Emma’s voice he knows that she’s the one for him. Then again, that could simply be his desire talking. After all, for every word she speaks, he becomes aroused.

It’s not the worst thing in the world to be incredibly attracted to a beautiful woman, but things aren’t that simple when she doesn’t have any interest in being his soulmate.

He’s screwed. And not in the good way.

Rating: Mature

A/N: Hey, hi, hello! So as you can see, we have a chapter count, which means I’m finished writing the story (except for some edits I need to make in the final chapters), so I may post a little more often! I really appreciate the enthusiasm you guys have for this story, and I promise there’s going to be a payoff! 😉

Chapter 7 & 8 cover one day, and, well, that should tell you that something big may be happening soon!

Thank you to @captainsjedi for her always incredible artwork, and her all-around support💕

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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-/-

Sitting down on the bench on the balcony of his apartment, Killian props his feet up on the railing, crossing his right ankle over his left, and takes a long swing of his bottle of beer, letting the liquid trail down his throat while the rain pounds down around him, coating the edge of everything in a thin sheen of water. He’s thankful for the covering that he has to shield himself from it all because he loves watching storms happen from outside, getting to feel the thunder tremble through the air and hear the rain water mix in with the depths of the ocean as waves crash onto the shoreline and darken the sand. It’s weirdly soothing. The weather never gets bad enough up here for storms to make him nervous, for him to have to take shelter, so with the soothing sounds of the ocean roaring, he takes a few moments to relax and not feel any tenseness in his shoulders.

Summer has fully come into effect in Storybrooke, the sun heating up and the tourists rolling in with the summer storms, and he’s in the midst of most of his days being spent giving sailing lessons or simply taking families out sailing because he and Liam can’t seem to find anyone who is competent enough to work for them and not drink on the job or nearly cause a crash. He knew that this would be a part of his job when they decided on adding it as a service. He enjoys it, really, but it’s been especially busy for the last week of June and the first three days of July. Everything in the office seems to calm down as the peak of summer hits, so the lessons and community engagement are really for supplemental income and to keep their company name relevant.

Right now he could go for a little irrelevance.

It’s mostly because he’s got a sunburn on his shoulders that hurts when he stretches the wrong way and that makes him agitated because he almost religiously applied sunscreen to protect himself and his skin for all of the time that he spends outside. And he’s tired, so damn tired that he could fall asleep in this uncomfortable chair with the cushion that kind of hurts his ass.

Next week he’s buying new patio furniture, and he’s making Will and Robin haul it up here since the only reason he has this uncomfortable chair is because Roland broke his last one when he decided to jump up and down on it. And Will can help because he has to owe Killian at least five favors by now. Will always owes him something.

Really, he still feels like he owes him for that set-up with Emma, which Will fully admitted to being a set-up last week. It was a bit of vindication even if he already knew that.

But he likes watching the storm, watching the ocean and the people who have taken it upon themselves to wander in the rain to get dinner when it would be so much easier to simply order in like he’s doing. Delivery from Granny’s is by far the most genius business decision that woman has ever come up with even if it’s always a toss up between whether it’s going to be Felix or Ruby delivering the food. Either way, it’s unlikely that he’s not going to be missing a fry or two. They tend to snack on the way here.

Every system has its flaws.

His doorbell rings, speak of the devil, and he swings his feet to the ground to stand, sliding open his glass door and walking into his apartment and the few feet through the kitchen to the front door. His place isn’t that big, but it’s enough for him to have nearly everything but the bedroom and the bathroom in one area. The view of the ocean is worth it.

Looking through the peephole, he sees Ruby standing outside with a red hood from her raincoat perched atop her head, and he unlatches the locks and swings the door open, a smile already on his face from how put out Ruby looks.

“Hello, lass.”

“I hate you for making me come outside during this weather,” she mumbles, shoving his food in his hand so that he grabs onto the paper bag. “Seriously. Don’t you know how to cook?”

“Not as well as your grandmother.” He hooks the bag on his wrist and digs into his back pocket for his wallet, opening it and thumbing through the bills. “It still $12.58?”

“And a tip if you want to thank me for my great service.”

He smiles to himself and pulls out a twenty, handing it over to Ruby. “Thank you, love.”

“It’s my pleasure. You coming to the Nolans’ house tomorrow?”

“Is the British man coming to a party to celebrate America’s independence from my home country?”

She pops her lips. “Yep.”

“Aye,” he laughs in response, shaking his head, “I am. I’ve been here for nearly half a decade, and your holidays are my holidays. Plus, I hear Dave grills a mean steak.”

He doesn’t know the Nolans that well despite most of his friends spending time with them, but he feels comfortable enough to go to the party with his brother, Elsa, and their kids. Their first year here they felt so odd not celebrating the holidays that everyone else was celebrating, but in the three years since then, they’ve really embraced it all. Luis and Luca definitely helped with that because all of their school friends celebrated Independence Day and Thanksgiving (bloody hell does he love Thanksgiving), and they’ve integrated themselves into the town ever since. Storybrooke feels like his home as much as Brighton did, and after the initial culture shock of moving countries and time zones to set up their business after retiring from the Navy and needing a change of pace, he enjoys all of the little charming traditions.

That first year he’d still been so heartbroken over Milah and her leaving that the fourth of July fireworks could have gone off in his apartment, and he wouldn’t have cared.

It’s...different now.

“He does. See you tomorrow, Jones. Wear your best patriotic gear.”

“I’ll wear my Queen Elizabeth costume. I’ve simply got to find my purse and my corgi.”

“Whatever you say,” she laughs. “There’s a little surprise in your order, by the way.”

At that, she turns around and walks away while he shakes his head from side to side and closes his front door, locking it and turning to place his take out bag on his kitchen counter.

He opens his bag to grab his container of lasagna only to see a white napkin with black markings written across it. He guesses that’s the surprise.

In case you spill your lasagna.

PS: You’re going to have to imagine if my underwear matches because that is something you’re never going to see.

Your Secret Not Admirer

He chuckles under his breath at Emma’s note. He knows that’s who it’s from because it echoes his note from after he watched her spill her water on herself at Granny’s. He knew he was being a little cheeky last week when he’d left her the napkin teasing her about spilling her drink and about her wildly mismatched socks (he’s thinking it must be a thing for her to not take the effort to keep pairs of matching socks together) and implying that she did the same with her undergarments, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass it up. He didn’t see her after that, not for the entire week except for the one time he saw her across the street from the office while talking to Marcus, so he figured that he’d kind of pissed her off.

It’s a fine line talking to Emma Swan, whether it be risking it by actual conversation or by text. Sometimes he can flirt with no problem, sometimes she even flirts back, but other times he knows that he hits a sore spot that he needs to step back from. She’s a bit of a mystery to him, and she intrigues him. He wants to know more about her, to know her, and about half of the time he kind of thinks that maybe she wants to get to know him too. He knows that she’s against the whole soulmate thing, that she thinks this whole arousal thing between them is idiotic (it is even if he thinks it could have some rather pleasant results), but he’s sure that she can’t deny that they have some kind of connection.

Oh he knows that she would, but deep down, she has to feel it too.

To feel it past the physical attraction that they obviously both have for each other, weird aroused by each other’s voices thing or not.

Or maybe they’ll live a life of sending teasing notes and text messages and riling each other up whenever they’re in the same place and then not doing anything about it.

They’re both entirely too good at that even if his feelings of arousal and desire don’t feel quite as intense as they did on that first day. The day out on the boat had been bad, but he thinks a part of it was driven by how little Emma was wearing.

God, she’s stunning. Sometimes he still can’t believe that.

No matter, though, this is his life, and as confusing as it is, he’s having a damn good time having this little tete-e-tete with Emma.

He’s got to figure out how he’s going to respond to this note. But first, he’s going to eat this lasagna because his stomach is rolling nearly as much as the storm outside is.

Priorities.

-/-

“Uncle Killian,” Luca screams when he pulls up to his brother’s house the next afternoon, stopping before he gets to the driveway so that he doesn’t drive over Luca’s chalk drawing. It looks like she’s been out here for at least an hour drawing some kind of mythical forest, and he couldn’t mess that up after all of her hard work out in the sunshine. “Look what I drew.”

“That’s beautiful, love,” he smiles, closing his jeep’s door and jogging over to her, sweeping her off of the ground and into his arms as she giggles. She’s almost too big for him to hold her like this, but not yet. He’s going to kill his back to hold his niece, but he doesn’t care. He loves her too much to. “Do you want to tell me all about it?”

“Nah,” she sighs, tilting her head back as her legs swing, the girl practically a dead weight. “I’m not finished, so I can’t tell you about it because it’s a secret.”

“A secret?”

“Yep.”

“And you can’t even tell your favorite uncle in the world?”

“Mommy said I can’t have a favorite uncle because it’s not fair to Uncle Kris.”

He snickers at that, knowing that she loves him more than she loves Kris, but that’s mostly because Kris still lives in England with Anna and not down the road like he does. And maybe it’s because he knows that he’s a hell of an uncle. Lifting Luca a little higher in his arms, he lugs her through the yard and up the front steps of Liam’s porch. Elsa has gone a little crazy with the gardening lately, and there are flowers blooming along the railing and pathway that seem to bring a lot of life to the brick home.

But not as much life as Luca and Luis bring.

“Hello,” he bellows as he walks into the house, tossing Luca over his shoulder so that she’s hanging upside down, giggles still rolling through her body. “I have found this interesting little creature outside, and I think that someone needs to come and capture her.”

“I’ll do it,” Luis yells, running to him from the living room and practically taking him down with the force of his hug.

“Hmm, I don’t think you’re big enough.”

“I am too.”

“I’m taller than you, Luis.”

“Only by a little.”

“Three whole inches.”

“Two and a half.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, ruffling the blonde curls on Luis’s head, “Luis is definitely big enough to help me lug Luca inside because he knows the most important information of all.”

“And what’s that?”

“Where is your mummy?”

His shoulder starts to ache so he puts Luca on the ground and plops himself down on the living room couch, making sure that he hasn’t gotten anything onto the cream material or onto their rug. Liam and Elsa have two eight-year-olds, but they somehow manage to keep everything inexplicably clean, especially since Liam isn’t as much of a neat freak as he used to be. Personally he thinks this entire house screams Elsa with its shades of blue and white with little bohemian touches everywhere. Honestly, it kind of reminds him of Emma and Belle’s apartment but with furniture that was definitely bought in a set and not found at different stores.

“She is putting her makeup on,” Luis tells him as he sits next to him on the couch and goes back to playing whatever video game he’s obsessed with this week. “And Papa is making a cake for the party.”

“That sounds good.”

“It’s not chocolate, so I don’t like it.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he sighs, stretching his arm out over the back of the couch and tilting his head to see Elsa coming down the stairs, her steps so light that he almost doesn’t hear them, “I think all cakes are good cakes.”

“Amen. My children are simply picky.”

“We are not,” the twins protest together, both of their mouths flattening into frowns.

“You are,” Elsa insists, stepping behind him on the couch and leaning down to press a kiss against his cheek. “Have you guys been torturing your uncle?”

“They have been almost perfectly behaved, but I would like a piece of this cake to make up for it.”

“Nobody gets the cake until we are at the party,” Liam shouts from the kitchen, obviously eavesdropping on their conversation.

Elsa pats his shoulder sympathetically. “I have a cookie that you can eat to tide you over.”

“That’s why I love you.”

“And me?” Luca asks.

“Of course.”

He watches Luis play his game, which is apparently a Lego’s video game that he had no idea existed, for about twenty minutes before Liam announces that his cake is finished and that they can make their way to the Nolans’ house. He really should have driven himself, but he didn’t want to be the guy who was creepily sitting in his car outside of their house while he waited for Liam’s family to show up. Usually he’d march on in to whoever’s house it was, but not really knowing the owners has kind of kept him from that. Plus, he wanted to spend a little time with his niece and nephew because he knows that they’ll run off as soon as they get into the yard.

It’s a fifteen-minute drive out to the Nolans’ farm since they live on the outskirts of town, and by the time they get there, there are already cars parked all down the street, lining the gravel road almost as much as the trees are. It’s as beautiful out here as it was the last time he was briefly here for some kind of Christmas party, and he wonders just how David and Mary Margaret seem to host the entire town for a holiday each year.

The moment they’re out of the car, just like he expected, Luca and Luis run off to a group of children that are climbing on the treehouse and swing set, leaving he, Liam, and Elsa in their dust. He remembers what it was like to be that young and free in everything, even after his father abandoned him, and the thought of that has him reaching up around his neck to toy with the chain that holds his mother’s ring. His parents’ marriage wasn’t a good one, but the ring was his mum’s and is a memory of hers that he likes to keep resting over his heart.

When they walk in the door to the farmhouse, not bothering to knock, it’s a mess of people, everyone practically packed in like sardines. He nearly knocks Tink over when he’s trying to get past the staircase and into the kitchen so that he can place Liam’s cake in there. He doesn’t even know how he ended up with it in his hands, but he somehow did.

“What’s that?” Will questions, nearly making him jump out of his skin from surprise.

“Some kind of coffee cake Liam made. I’ve been told I can’t have any until we all eat dessert.”

“That sounds like a pain in the ass.”

“It is.” He places the container down and leans back against the wooden cabinets, the cool marble digging into his waist just above his jeans. “Where’s Belle?”

“What? You don’t want to talk to me, so you ask where my girlfriend is? I thought we were mates.”

“Nah, I’m just in it for Belle. She has access to every book I’d ever need.”

“So does Amazon.”

He rolls his eyes and taps his nails against the countertop. “But no, seriously, I wanted to talk to Belle about a field trip idea for next month since she’s still looking for some for the summer programs.”

Will nods his head toward the window. “She’s outside with Emma talking to Mary Margaret and David as they grill the burgers. They must have spent a fortune buying the meat. I can’t imagine so many people in one place.”

“Me either,” he mumbles, twisting his head to look out the window to see the grill situated at the end of the patio, Mary Margaret standing at it with Emma and Belle next to her. Damn, Emma has on the same jean shorts that she had on when they went out on the water, and he doesn’t think he’s going to survive those again, not if she acts the same. Not even if she doesn’t. He’ll probably have to avoid her at all costs tonight. He can tell that Mary Margaret is the one talking, the way she’s swinging the spatula around pretty obvious, but he knows that Emma isn’t saying anything because he can’t hear her voice. He’s close enough to her to be able to hear her voice, right? That’s how this thing works. “Especially because that big head of yours takes up so much space.”

Will lets out a low whistle. “You have spent too much time with Rob if those are the kinds of jokes you’re making.”

“He makes a mean dad joke.”

“That he does. And, for your information, if there’s any part of me that’s big enough to be taking up too much space in this house, it bloody well isn’t my head.”

He doesn’t want to laugh at that, but he does, biting his bottom lip and closing his eyes as he tries to keep from laughing out loud. Sometimes he swears that his humor is that of a teenager, even if he teases Will about that very thing.

“Where’d you get the drink?”

“They have a cooler of water and beer outside, but I know that Mary Margaret has some lemonade in the fridge and that David has whiskey in the pantry.”

He’d really rather have the beer, but he doesn’t want to be near Emma. It’s far too early in the day for him to be sporting an erection, especially when he doesn’t feel comfortable relieving himself in someone else’s home. He’d done it at Ariel’s, but that was a one-time thing. It’s not happening again. The thrill of almost being caught isn’t really there when he’s a gross man masturbating. That just...it’s wrong.

And he got caught the last time.

Damn, that was awkward and embarrassing, and he has no idea how he’s been able to look Emma in the eyes without melting into the ground or something. Probably because they had a few more pressing issues to deal with that day, and it’s hopefully almost forgotten.

He knows it’ll never be fully forgotten.

Changing the weight on his feet, he turns to the side and opens the fridge, grabbing the pitcher of lemonade, freshly cut lemons floating at the top, and pours himself some into a disposable cup, quickly writing his name on it with the marker that was left on the counter. He’s about to put the cap back on the marker when he sees the stack of napkins at the same time that he hears the faintest echo of Emma’s laugh. Scribbling down a note, he decides that maybe it isn’t too early for him to have to suffer from hearing Emma talk. And maybe avoiding her all day isn’t the best plan.

It’s certainly not what he really wants.

“Where are you going?” Will yells as he opens up the sliding door to their backyard.

“Use some common sense and guess.”

“Asshole.”

He doesn’t even blink at that as he strides across the yard, waving to the few people who wave to him, before he’s standing next to Emma and wrapping his arm around her shoulder so that his hand holding the napkin dangles down onto her biceps. Her feels her tense for a moment, all of her guards obviously going up, before her shoulders relax a bit.

Huh. Not what he was expecting.

“Hi, Killian,” Mary Margaret greets, a bright, cheery smile on her face. “It’s so nice of you to be able to make it.”

Emma groans, something he thinks only he hears, and he pulls her a little closer to his side. He will never get over how undeniably fun it is to bother her. “It’s nice of you to have us all here. I don’t think there could be a more gracious host in Storybrooke.”

He watches as Belle’s eyes roll at that before she takes a sip of her water. “Don’t let Killian charm you too much. He’s full of it.”

“Oh, love, don’t be jealous that I haven’t complimented you yet. I was getting around to it.”

“You spend too much time with Will.”

It’s funny how conversations with two different people still end up being similar.

“And what does that say about you?”

“That I am not as influenced by others as you are.”

“This is true,” he sighs, jumping a little when he feels Emma pinch his side under his button down. He was waiting for some kind of retaliation for her since he’s very obviously invading her personal space and talking to annoy her and drive her mad, not that anyone but the two of them knows that. “You are an unshakable force, my dear Belle. So do you need any help with anything, Mary Margaret?”

“You’re a guest. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Oh come on, lass, I’m sure there’s something you need help with. Emma and I would be happy to assist you.”

Emma pinches his side again, this time the force another to actually cause him a little pain, and he slides his hand down from her shoulder and deftly puts the napkin in her back pocket. He fully expects her to punch him and knock his teeth out, but he thinks he manages to give it to her without her noticing too much. Maybe she’s too on edge to even notice.

“Oh, well,” Mary Margaret says, taking a few of the burgers off the grill and placing them on the tray, “if you two could get all of the side dishes from the kitchen and set them up on the tables out here, that would be great.”

“It’s not a problem, milady. Come on, Swan.”

He steps to the side and starts making his way back to the house. He doesn’t check to see if Emma is following him. He doesn’t need to because as soon as he gets back inside and into the little alcove between the back door and the kitchen, Emma shoves him and slaps at his chest.

“What the hell is wrong to you?”

“Whatever could you be talking about?”

Her eyes roll in what he believes is her signature move around him now, and he has to suppress his smile at how red her cheeks are and how much of a scowl her lips have formed into. “You’re a jackass. I was in the middle of a conversation, and you come out there and wrap your arm around me and then start talking because you know what happens when you do that!”

Gooseflesh rises on his arms, and he tries to regulate his breathing as Emma keeps talking. It’s not as bad as it could be, but it has the potential to get worse.

“And what the hell did you put in my pocket?” she huffs, reaching behind her and pulling out the napkin. “‘You’re right. I wouldn’t know what kind of underwear you wore because the only time I’ve ever seen down your shirt you weren’t wearing any.’ You’re ridiculous.”

“Never claimed I wasn’t.” He bends down and whispers in her ear, making sure to get close enough that his lips brush skin. “For the reference, mine have a delightful blue and white striped pattern today.”

“J-just get the damn side dishes,” she stutters, her voice visibly catching.

“As you wish.”

#Not Your (soul)Mate #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

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anthonycrowleymoved · 5 years

Text

look a bunch of y’all don’t seem to know how to navigate ao3 so i’m going to tell you all how to find like, decent fics if u don’t wanna ask people for recs and this obviously isn’t foolproof and you should also look for newer fics because you could be missing something Good that way but i digress this is how i look for fics

METHOD #1: I JUST WANT SOMETHING GOOD AND AM NOT PICKY AS TO WHAT

damn! that’s a lot of fic! and probably not all of it is excellent! whatever shall i do?

this is generally how i go through ao3. i sort by kudos and work backward. eventually i hit a wall where most of it is either new, not my thing, or like, the rare diamond in the rough. it’s not foolproof, because sometimes people kudos fics en masse that aren’t fantastic, and you do miss a lot of stuff, but it’s less of a mixed bag if you want something decent quick, and it’s nice currently in the gomens tag with how much of an influx of new fic there is. i can actually kind of keep up this way with what the fanbase is Into

METHOD #2: I WANT SOMETHING SPECIFIC

i don’t think this is challenging but just to be sure

maybe i want, for example, high school aus

(i did not notice the first result was in fact a high school au i was just trying to think of something that was like, popular enough that there would be multiple fics but niche enough that there wasn’t a fuckton of fics just roll with it)

oh no! how ever will i find a Good High School AU ??? (again not saying that one is or isn’t good i genuinely wasn’t paying attention)

“twenty is more manageable, but i only want the BEST high school aus because i only have like an hour and i need instant gratification!”

METHOD #3: GET THAT SHIT AWAY FROM ME

“this is cool but i can’t stand wingfic even though it’s practically canon”

(i tend to use this primarily to avoid crossover fic for stuff i don’t care about it’s quite pleasant. it’s also quite nice if you have triggers probably although i don’t really so i can’t speak for that)

look again this may mean you miss something good so take it with a grain of salt but like finding good stuff on ao3 isn’t that hard i promise

#shut up maggie #text

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years

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Gray hasn’t seen Natsu in years - not since he moved away with his boyfriend Joel and Natsu stopped texting him. A chance run-in at a bar brings Natsu back into Gray’s life, but the encounter puts Gray in danger when Joel finds out. Natsu quickly realizes that Gray’s stuck in a cycle of violence, and wants to help him escape. But leaving isn’t that easy, and sometimes loving someone might not be enough.

Chapter Summary: Gray is torn between staying and leaving, and Joel's not making it easy.

Chapters (17/22): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Gray Fullbuster/Original Male Character(s) Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape Aftermath, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Natsu just wants to help, but Gray feels like he can’t leave, Non-Linear Narrative, Trans Character, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, ftlgbtpride2019, Coming Out, First Love, Angst with a Happy Ending, I promise

**TW for verbal/physical abuse

-----

you young lost sinner

dis· so· nance | \ ˈdi-sə-nən(t)s noun : psychological conflict resulting from incongruous beliefs and attitudes held simultaneously

xvi november

When Sting drops Gray off at the jail later that day to pick up Joel, the first words out of Joel’s mouth are, “I’m so, so sorry.”

He pulls Gray into a gentle hug, kissing the top of his head. “I was so worried about you,” he says, “they wouldn’t tell me anything, just that you were at the hospital.” He pulls back and runs a thumb over Gray’s cheek, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Then he sees Gray’s bandaged hand and makes a soft, sad sound.

“I’m sorry,” Joel murmurs again as Gray presses his forehead against Joel’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Gray asks softly, wrapping his arms around Joel’s waist and leaning into him. Guilt creeps back into his chest – he’d spent the day sitting on Sting’s living room floor, cuddling with Frosch and Lector and playing Uno with Rogue – having fun while Joel had was worrying about him.

“I’ll live,” Joel says. His jaw and knuckles are bruised, but otherwise he seems okay. “I’m more worried about you – I can’t believe Tyler tried to pull that shit. Who knows what he would’ve done if I hadn’t been there.”

He kisses Gray’s head again, then takes his hand. Gray lets Joel lead him out to the parking lot, keeping his eyes on the ground the whole time.

Continue reading on AO3

They get back to the apartment just before supper and Bella is ecstatic, jumping around them as her nails clack against the hardwood. Gray kneels down and presses his forehead to hers, whispering, “I’m so sorry, girl, you must be starving.”

Bella licks his face, then runs off to the kitchen to sit next to the pantry.

“You didn’t come home?” Joel’s voice is suddenly much less sweet than it had been, and Gray stands up slowly, turning to look at him.

“I didn’t... you had the keys,” Gray says. “And the rental office is closed, it’s the weekend, so I couldn’t get the landlord to let me in.”

Joel studies Gray for a second, then asks, “where did you stay?”

Gray looks down at the floor, picking at the edge of his bandage. The air is charged, suddenly – a downed wire, live sparks.

The kindness never lasts.

“I...”

“Where did you stay?” Joel asks again.

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Gray says as his stomach ties itself into knots. “I was... I didn’t get out of the ER until really late, and I couldn’t get back in the apartment, and—”

“Where?”

“Please,” Gray whispers, wrapping his arms around himself and keeping his eyes on the ground. “I—I stayed at Sting’s, he took me to the hospital ‘cause I needed the stitches and I... there was nowhere else, I didn’t have my wallet or my phone, and—”

“Stop.”

Gray bites back the excuses and closes his eyes, bracing himself for whatever Joel’s going to do. Everything already aches, and Gray’s pretty sure Joel can’t make it worse.

“I told you to stay away from him,” Joel says. He takes a step toward Gray and Gray flinches, backing up against the wall.

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” he whispers.

Why can’t I love you ever last?

Joel’s fingers wrap around Gray’s arm, and Gray tenses, squeezing his eyes shut, but the blow never comes. Instead there’s a deep, rough bark, and Gray looks over to see Bella standing in the doorway to the kitchen, giving Joel a cautious look. When he doesn’t move, she barks again.

There’s a terrifying silence, then Joel lets go of Gray’s arm, pushing him back into the wall. “I can’t deal with your shit right now,” he says, sighing and rubbing his face. “You never fucking listen to me.”

Gray’s not sure if apologizing will make it better or worse, so he just stays quiet.

“I’m going to bed,” Joel says. “Don’t bother me. I’ll deal with you tomorrow.” Then he stalks down the hallway to the bedroom and slams the door behind him.

Gray sags back against the wall, then sinks to the floor, dropping his forehead to his knees. Bella comes over to him and presses her nose to his cheek, and he wraps an arm around her neck, whispering, “thank you.”

She whines and lays down beside him, putting a paw on his leg. When he looks down at her, all he can think about is Joel getting angry enough to hurt her.

“I won’t leave you,” Gray says, running his fingers through her fur. “We’ve gotta keep each other safe.”

-----

Joel leaves for work the next day without looking at Gray. As soon as he’s gone, Gray deadbolts the door and runs to the bedroom, digging out his secret phone.

Natsu answers almost immediately. “Hey, you.” He’s in his kitchen, phone propped up on the table while he drinks his coffee. Gray can see the moment that Natsu realizes Gray’s hurt – his eyes widen and his expression turns heartbroken. “Gray, shit, what did he do to you?”

“It wasn’t him,” Gray says quickly, curling up in the pillows at the head of the bed. “Well, not.... there was a bar fight. I’m okay, though.”

“You don’t look okay,” Natsu says. “What happened?”

“Joel, uh... he punched a guy, it’s... they didn’t charge him with anything, just kept him for a bit until he was sober. I stayed with Sting last night.”

Gray can see how badly Natsu wants to ask why Gray didn’t leave, but instead he says, ��I’m glad Sting helped you. He’s a good guy.” Gray nods, staring down at his bandaged hand. “Is there anything I can do?” Natsu asks.

Gray looks over nervously at the door, then takes a deep breath and asks, “if I left... could I stay with you?”

“Of course,” Natsu replies immediately. His expression is a mix of hope and tentative relief, and Gray’s not sure how it makes him feel.

“Not... not yet,” Gray says, looking back down at his hands. “I’m not ready, but he... I...”

“It’s okay,” Natsu says gently. “Whatever you need.”

They talk for a bit more about nothing – Natsu's work, the book Gray’s been reading – and Gray feels the tension start to fade. Every time he talks to Natsu, Gray feels a little bit braver, a little bit more certain.

When they finally hang up and Natsu whispers, “I love you,” Gray believes him.

-----

Now that Gray has talked about it with Natsu, making a plan to leave is a tiny bit easier.

He insists on going back to work right away, even though carrying plates hurts his hand like hell. He needs the tips – he starts taking a few dollars each shift and hiding them in the bottom of the duffle bag in his locker. It’s not enough for Joel to notice, and after three weeks, Gray has almost a hundred dollars saved.

One day, Gray manages to make it to the registry to order new copies of his birth certificate and health care card. His face burns with embarrassment when he explains the situation to the woman who’s helping him, but she quickly waives the fees for him and agrees to mail them to Natsu’s house instead of Gray’s home address.

Each little act feels like taking back a piece of himself – like he’s slowly stitching the broken parts of himself into something resembling a whole.

Joel doesn’t make it easy. The evening after their argument about Gray staying at Sting’s, Joel acts like nothing happened, and he doesn’t bring up Sting again. It leaves Gray in an uncomfortable state of uncertainty, and he hates it.

It’s almost easier when Joel’s angry – even when it hurts.

-----

“I’m really proud of you,” Natsu says one day in late November. It’s cold and snowing outside, and Gray is curled up under the blankets in the bedroom, Bella snoring across his legs.

Gray feels his cheeks turn pink and he ducks his head, not looking at Natsu. They’ve been talking every day – sometimes on Skype, sometimes texts that Gray immediately deletes, even on his secret phone. Every time he pulls it out of the drawer, he’s petrified that Joel will find out, but being able to talk to Natsu is worth it.

“Why?” Gray asks, and he knows the answer, but he’s found that hearing Natsu say it out loud makes it easier.

“You’re taking care of yourself,” Natsu says. “Rogue said you looked better last time he saw you.”

Gray had asked Sting to keep his distance from the restaurant after the blowup with Joel, and Sting had reluctantly agreed. But Joel doesn’t know Rogue, so Rogue has been checking in with Gray every once in a while.

Gray sighs, rubbing his face and then looking up at Natsu. “I’m sorry,” he says, pulling his knees up to his chest.

Natsu frowns. “Why?”

“’cause… I…” Gray makes a frustrated sound. “I want to—to go. But I’m not… I can’t…”

“I know,” Natsu says gently. “It’s okay if you’re not ready. I love you no matter what.”

Gray nods, staring at Natsu’s image on the screen. His chest aches – he wants to be there, wants Natsu to hold him and love him and keep the world away from him for a while.

He’s about to say something else when the front door rattles. Gray freezes – Joel’s not supposed to be home for another two hours.

“I gotta go,” he whispers, then quickly shuts the phone and hides it, closing the bedside drawer as quietly as he can. He’s just scrambled out of bed and over to the closet when Joel appears in the doorway.

“Hey, babe,” Joel says, coming into the room and catching Gray around the waist. Gray’s immediately on edge – Joel doesn’t look angry, but sometimes his smile is worse than a scowl.

“Hey,” Gray says, forcing himself to smile. “You’re home early.”

Joel pulls Gray tight against him and kisses his forehead. “I decided to tell work to fuck off for the afternoon,” he says. “I know I’ve been kind of an asshole lately – I’m just so goddamn stressed out with these reports.”

“It’s okay,” Gray says quickly, wrapping his arms around Joel’s waist and ignoring the bubbling disquiet in his stomach. “Can I make it better?”

Joel shakes his head, slipping his fingers in Gray’s belt loops and leaning back. “Nope. This one’s on me – we’re going out for dinner to that place you like.”

Gray feels like he’s standing on the edge of the high-dive, dizzy and terrified and exhilarated all at the same time. Joel looks so sincere and so happy and handsome, and for a minute he reminds Gray of the boy he met all those years ago.

“You make me a better person,” Joel says, brushing Gray’s hair out of his face and giving him a soft, fond look. “You know that, right?”

Gray’s teetering on the edge – uncertainty is pushing him back, but he’s pulled forward by the potential of something better.

“I do?” he asks, searching Joel’s face for a lie and finding nothing but adoration.

“Yeah,” Joel says. “You’re the only one who puts up with my shit, even when I’m being a dick. I don’t deserve you.”

Natsu’s voice echoes through Gray’s mind – no, you don’t – as Gray’s mind wavers between fear and wanting.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Joel says, kissing Gray on the nose. “I love you so much.”

Gray’s eyes flick over to his bedside table for just a second before he pushes away the image of Natsu and says, “I love you too.”

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #ftlgbtpride2019 #day 19 #gratsu #natray #gray x natsu #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #update #new chapter #prompt #my fic

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dr-gloom · 6 years

Text

Overworked and Underpaid Ch 2

Whoo! Here’s chapter 2! Uhm sorry it ended up being twice as long as chapter one?

Chapter 1

Summary: The events of Chapter one, more in depth and from the other sides’ perspectives.

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Pairing: none (I mean I guess you could read into it and see a pairing but that’s up to you)

Tags/Warnings: sick Virgil, anxious bois, soup

Read it on AO3

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@idon-kno @scorching-scotch @bunny222 @hungry-red-panda

It had been worrying Patton how busy Thomas was making himself. He was doing nothing but working! He didn’t even give himself the chance to hang out with friends, unless he needed to talk to them for a project, and even then, it wasn’t anything fun! Patton knew that it was important to give oneself breaks and have some relaxation time, and he also couldn’t forget what Virgil had said months ago. “Your really good friends, they… Help me out. They provide constancy.” Patton knew that Virgil had to be taking all of this hard.

Even if Thomas wasn’t anxious about meeting deadlines or being late with anything, Virgil was always anxious about those things himself. And without Thomas’ friends around to provide that constant reassurance and comfort, Patton couldn’t imagine how Virgil must be feeling after so long. When he would walk by Virgil’s room, he could always hear him pacing and muttering to himself. Even in the dead of night, if Patton got up to get some water or had just turned off Parks & Rec, he could hear Virgil wide awake either in his room or making his rounds. Patton wasn’t sure if he should talk to Virgil; the other was always so closed off, and they hadn’t been one big happy family for very long. As much as he loved and cared for his kiddo, he doubted the other would tell him if something was wrong.

He kept an eye on Virgil, though, watching as the anxious side became more and more fidgety, more and more jumpy, seemed more and more tired. He noticed how Virgil started squinting at the light and had to force himself to laugh a bit when Roman would joke about how Virgil spends too much time in that cave of a room; he only laughs because he doesn’t want to worry the others or make Virgil suspicious of him. Virgil starts looking paler, and the eyeshadow under his eyes starts looking less like eyeshadow and more like sleep-deprived bags. Patton makes a comment, tells Virgil, “Wow kiddo! You’re getting so good at putting eyeshadow on! It looks so realistic!” because he hopes Virgil will correct him, tell him he’s not wearing makeup, give him an in to talk about this, to tell Patton what’s wrong and let the father figment help him. He just grins, and Patton tries to convince himself it really is just makeup.

He feels his worry grow when Virgil starts zoning out a lot. In the middle of filming a new video, Virgil’s line comes up and the four men stand around looking at Virgil for a solid five minutes before Virgil realizes his mistake and apologizes. Patton can feel Thomas getting worried, he feels it too, but he tries to push it down because he needs to figure out what’s going on with Virgil. He needs to talk to Roman and Logan about this, but not right now. They call it a day and Virgil heads straight to his room.

He mentions to Roman and Logan that he thinks something’s wrong with Virgil. He tells them what he’s noticed and what he’s worried about and what he suspects. Roman brushes it off as Patton being an overly-protective dad-at-heart, but Logan seems to take Patton’s concerns under consideration. Virgil comes down a few hours later, heading to the kitchen, walking like a zombie, and the other sides share a look before Roman parades into the kitchen, his voice flowing out from the kitchen as he talks to Virgil with all of his usual bravado. When Virgil doesn’t respond, instead just standing there with his water, Roman’s eyebrows scrunch together, and he snaps his fingers in Virgil’s face. Virgil startles and apologizes, then walks around Roman hurriedly.

Logan stops Virgil with his voice, asking him how long it’s been since he’s slept, and Virgil just shrugs at him. That makes Patton’s worry intensify, and he can feel the other two worry as Roman makes his way out of the kitchen. Virgil looks like he’s about to cry, Patton can’t handle it anymore. He knows he needs to wait for Virgil to trust him, to open up to him, but he’s so worried for his poor exhausted kiddo that he asks, “What’s wrong, kiddo?” Virgil takes a moment to respond, and every second is agony to Patton before Virgil mutters a subdued, “Nothing’s wrong” and disappears before anyone can say anything.

It’s been weeks now, and Thomas is still as busy as ever, and Virgil only seems to be getting worse. Patton catches him in the kitchen one evening, standing in front of the open fridge swaying like he’s about to fall over, and he’s about to say something when Virgil mutters a, “just don’t stand still” and closes the fridge, shuffling out of the kitchen and starting on his nightly patrol of the mindscape. Patton wants so badly to stop him, to force him to bed, but after their last interaction he knows that wouldn’t be well-received.

Patton is getting the ingredients to make cookies, because he knows that when he’s had a tough time of it that cookies help him, and he knows Virgil’s favorite, so he’s making those. He gathers ingredients in his arm as he goes, going down the mental checklist in his mind. He realized he’s forgotten the oatmeal and tries to grab it, but his arms are completely full. Someone reaches over his shoulder and grabs the container of oatmeal for him, and he turns around with a bright smile to thank them. It fades just slightly when he sees that it’s Virgil holding the oatmeal. Virgil insists on helping him, and Patton tries to say he’s fine, but Virgil won’t budge, so Patton reluctantly acquiesces and the two make cookies together in relative silence, Patton watching Virgil closely and noting the slight tremor in his hands.

Logan is working on an experiment involving various stimuli and their resulting reactions, but it’s a bit difficult to conduct an experiment on oneself. After he finds himself getting frustrated with himself, he takes a step back and decides to ask for some help. He figures this would also be a good opportunity to acquire more observational data on Virgil’s current mental and physical states, so he finds the other in his room and asks for assistance. Virgil looks about ready to pass out, but he nods and follows Logan to his room.

Logan explains what he’s doing, watching Virgil closely to see if he’s actually paying attention, then he starts the experiments. He can tell as he goes that Virgil is fading in and out of focus, and he notes how shaky Virgil is when he insists later on to help Logan mix chemicals. He has to take the beaker, afraid Virgil will spill the liquid on himself, and he asks Virgil if he’s feeling anxious. Virgil reassures him that, “I’m not panicking, Lo, I promise, it’s okay” but even his voice sounds off. Logan quickly finishes what he was doing and sends Virgil back to his room. He’ll have to discuss his observations with Patton and Roman.

The three sides sat around the living room, discussing what they’d discovered and trying to come up with a plan to help Virgil without letting him figure out that they were helping him. If he knew, then he would refuse to be around them, and it would defeat the purpose of the whole thing. After much deliberation, they decide that Roman would invite Virgil to the imagination and try to tire him out with some professional make-believe acting. Virgil comes downstairs and Roman jumps to his feet, challenging Virgil loudly. Virgil winces at the sheer volume of his voice, something that didn’t used to bother him, and agrees.

The two head into the imagination, and Roman is watching his every move. Virgil’s entire body is shivering like he’s cold, his steps are unsteady, and he stops-starts-walks every few feet. Roman sets up the scene around them with a wave of his hand; a dark, sinister lair full of various sinister devices, and a prince tied to a chair behind Virgil. Virgil shakes himself out and takes a deep breath, his eyes hazy and unfocused as Roman forced himself to play the part. He has to act like he isn’t worried for Virgil, that he doesn’t notice how the other is barely standing. He doesn’t look good. They aren’t even there for very long before Roman realizes that Virgil is essentially just standing there on autopilot, completely out of it. His face is slightly flushed and he’s still shaking, and before Roman can think he’s sinking them out of the imagination and into the living room.

Patton and Logan are sitting on the couch, Patton pretending to watch TV and Logan with a book open in his lap, though he’s not looking at it. Virgil stumbles as they rise up, and Roman remembers belatedly that Virgil doesn’t like how fast Roman rises up, that it makes him dizzy. Roman takes in Virgil’s appearance, seeing slight awareness in the other’s eyes, and dares to ask, “What’s wrong?” He doesn’t expect much of an answer, especially since Virgil doesn’t seem to have realized they’ve moved, and he was right; Virgil just steels his expression and clenches his fists slightly. Does he think they’re still in the imagination?

Patton gets up, hands out in front of him placatingly, asking Virgil to, “Please, please just go to bed. You look so exhausted kiddo, you need to relax. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Virgil’s eyes widen slightly, and he takes three steps towards Patton before his knees buckle. Roman rushes forward to catch him, gripping his shoulders as Virgil’s knees hit the carpet, and he sees the confusion in Virgil’s face just before he passes out.

Logan and Patton are there in an instant as Roman shifts Virgil to lean against him. Patton feels Virgil’s forehead and gasps softly. “He’s burning up! I didn’t know he was sick!” Roman frowns. He should’ve noticed sooner. They all should have. How had they not noticed. Logan seems to see what he’s thinking by the expression on his face. “Roman, we had no way of knowing that Virgil’s behaviors were outside of his normal overly-anxious mannerisms. Not without him communicating as much to us. Don’t blame yourself for something you had no way of knowing.” Roman nods and takes Virgil’s jacket off him as he starts to sweat.

“We should move him. I don’t want to take him back to his room though; heaven knows what that negative atmosphere would do to him like this.”

Patton worries the sleeve of his cat hoodie. “But where should we put him? The couch would be so uncomfortable…”

Roman looks up at him and shrugs. “My room?”

“If I’m not mistaken, your room tends to exacerbate the creative aspect of his anxieties.” Roman deflates, picking Virgil up in his arms. “Right…”

Patton perks up, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “My room? It’s always happy!”

“Have you forgotten what happened the last time he was in your room, Padre? It’s not much better.”

And just like that Patton deflates, pouting.

“Then it would seem my room is the only logical location.” Logan said, pushing his glasses up his nose. Roman and Patton look at each other, shrugging, and Roman turns to take Virgil up the stairs. Virgil is curling into Roman’s warmth, shivering again, and Roman wishes he’d grabbed Virgil’s hoodie from the floor. Patton rushes ahead of them and opens Logan’s door for him, and Roman smiles at him as he sets Virgil in the logical side’s bed. “Thanks Padre. I’m assuming you want the first shift?”

Patton nods vigorously, chewing at his bottom lip. “I got him, kiddo, it’s fine.” He nods, trusting Virgil to Patton and heading back into the imagination to defeat a manticore-chimera.

Patton stayed by Virgil’s side near constantly through the growing days. He’d even go so far as to sleep next to the other to make sure he was there when Virgil woke up. Logan had taken to sleeping in Patton’s room because of this, despite not caring for the emotionally-charged space. God, how did Patton deal with all these… feelings?

Virgil wakes up on the third day, while Patton is making himself something to eat downstairs in the kitchen. Roman has temporarily taken his place, just a formality really, because he didn’t expect Virgil to choose that exact moment to wake up. It takes him a moment to realize that’s what’s happening, because Virgil’s eyes are still closed, but he begins to hear it in the other’s breathing, which is coming in shaky gasps that do something funny to Roman’s chest. Virgil’s face is the picture of fear as he tries to sit up, but it’s obvious he doesn’t have the energy and his muscles aren’t cooperating, and that seems to set him off more.

Roman sets a hand on his chest to keep him down, worry evident in his tone as he tries to calm Virgil down. “Shhhh, Virgil you need to calm down. Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay. You’re in Logan’s room. We figured this would be the safest place for you besides the commons… Take a deep breath, it’s okay.”

Virgil goes lax, but he’s still breathing funny, so Roman tries to run him through the breathing exercise he uses when he’s having an anxiety attack. He doesn’t know if Virgil hears him, but it’s worth a shot. Virgil calms down, but he’s still shivering like he’d just come out of the snow. “Are you cold? I’ll go get you a blanket. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” He leaves to go get a spare blanket out of the hallway cupboard, and when he comes back Virgil’s already asleep again.

Over the next few days, the other three sides take turns taking care of Virgil, because Patton’s started to run himself into the ground trying to watch over Virgil by himself. They go on shifts, the person who’s next in line doing things like cooking for the other two and keeping Thomas updated. Whenever Virgil wakes up, the only way they can tell is by the way his breathing changes because he hasn’t opened his eyes yet, and that kind of worries them but they don’t talk about it because what if something’s wrong with him and he’s gone blind? They push the thought to the back of their minds and focus on taking care of their sick friend. They try to give him water when he wakes up, and wince when he coughs because with how jumpy he is there’s no way he’ll take medicine, so they can’t help his throat.

When Patton’s watching him, he’ll dab at Virgil’s face with a cold washcloth or wrap him in blankets and when he wakes up he’ll talk to him softly, holding his hand as he tells him about what they’ve all been doing since he last talked to him, or how long Virgil’s been sick and that he wishes he’d get better soon. Virgil never audibly responds, but Patton can see how he visibly relaxes once Patton starts speaking, so he talks about anything he can think of. He finds himself repeating things a lot, mainly “it’ll be okay”, “you’re safe”, and other phrases he uses when Virgil is panicking. Virgil falls back asleep to Patton stroking his hair and talking nonsense in a quiet voice.

When Roman watches Virgil, he’ll sit by his friend’s side, spinning grand adventures of princes, knights, fair maidens, and witches and dragons. The first story he’d told had Virgil cast as the villain, but one look at Virgil and Roman could tell that he didn’t like that. That made him feel horrible; he’d always insisted that Virgil play the villain when they were in the imagination. Did he hate that, too? Roman pushed the feelings aside and began to tell a tale of a young knight of the kingdom Doom and Gloom who set out on a quest to save the prince of the kingdom Thoughts and Dreams. As he wove his tale, thinking on the fly and leading the knight through many tales of victorious battles and grateful villagers, Virgil looked at peace, and Roman resolved to have Virgil play better rolls in his stories from now on. Maybe he could save Roman sometimes? Roman liked to play the hapless prince occasionally.

Logan didn’t know what to do around sick people. Objectively, he knew what you had to do medically to make them feel better until the illness passed, but… what were you supposed to do when this was your friend, who’s been sick for a week and doesn’t look like he’s getting better? Logan stuck to the facts. He’d adjust the blankets to suit however Virgil was feeling – whether he was shivering or sweating – and he would sit beside the bed and tell Virgil facts. It was both to distract himself and bring comfort to Virgil, since he knew the other became calmer with auditory stimulation. When he ran out of relevant facts about their situation, he’d try to share facts he thought Virgil would like. He told Virgil, “When Hitler invaded Paris, the French turned off all power to the Ifle Tower so that the Nazis would have to take the stairs instead of the lifts.” He thought, if Virgil were completely aware, he’d find that humorous.

When they’re sure Virgil will be asleep for a while, the other three sides meet up in the commons to talk. Virgil��s been sick for a week and a half, and Patton is far too worried. Granted, they weren’t humans, so they weren’t subject to dying from disease, and whatever was happening to Virgil wouldn’t be subject to the laws of nature and bacteria, so they had no idea how long this could go for.

Roman tried to remain positive. “Come on men, let’s look at the bright side!”

“And what, pray-tell would that be?”

“…..He can’t…die?”

Logan sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “It would help if we knew exactly how this happened in the first place.” Patton perks up at that, jumping on the balls of his feet and looking like a child who wants to speak but is waiting for the teacher’s permission. Logan sighs again.

“Yes, Patton?”

“Thomas has been super busy! And! And he hasn’t seen his friends!”

Roman and Logan look at each other, then Patton, and Patton can see the moment they realize what Patton had thought of weeks ago.

“Oh my god.”

“Is it really that simple?”

Patton starts bouncing more, excited to finally (maybe) make Virgil better. “We can try it! Someone needs to tell Thomas to take a break and go visit his friends!” Logan stands, adjusting his tie. “I shall do that, seeing as the two of you are better at… caring for our ailing friend.” Patton nods, and Logan sinks out. Roman hops up from the couch, dusting off his prince outfit. “Well, I suppose I shall make us some lunch to celebrate!” Patton smiles.

“Good idea Ro! I’m just gonna check on Virge really quick.”

Roman nods as he heads to the kitchen and Patton heads upstairs. Patton hums happily as he climbs the stairs, faltering slightly when he hears… Oh no… He can’t be…

Patton walks into Logan’s room, where Virgil is sitting up in bed, shaking violently and sobbing as big, fat tears roll down his cheeks. His eyes are barely open, Patton doubts he can really see past all the tears, but what Patton can see of his eyes looks unbearably sad. Virgil is babbling as he cries, and it takes Patton a moment to realize what he’s saying but it breaks his heart.

“G-gone… h-hate m-me… I-I-I’m sorry-y… p-p-please don’t l-leave me… I’m s-sorry… use-useless…. A-alone….”

Patton rushed to the bed, taking Virgil in his arms and petting his hair as he spoke softly, trying to keep his tone even. “Oh Virge, sweetheart, shhh, shhhh, it’s okay. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, I’m so sorry. It’s okay, you’re okay. Lay down, baby.” He tries to gently guide Virgil into laying down, fixing the blankets around him. He grabs a washcloth out of the bowl of ice water on Logan’s desk, rings it out, then puts it on Virgil’s forehead. He sees Virgil visibly relax for a second before he starts crying harder. Patton feels his heart constrict and he shushes Vigil some more, and thankfully this time he doesn’t take long to calm down. Virgil looks seconds away from falling asleep, but Patton keeps petting his cheeks to get him to stay awake; he needs to eat.

“’m t’red… j’s w’na sl’p…” Patton frowns. “I know you’re tired baby, but do you think you can eat? It’ll make you feel better.” Virgil shakes his head.

“Can’t eat… c’n’t! Don’ w’na… p-pl’s don’… don’ m’ke m’.” He starts crying again, and Patton sighs softly. His poor boy was so exhausted…. He pets Virgil’s hair, and he calms down quickly; probably because he doesn’t have the energy to cry. “Come on baby, please? If you eat, just a little, I’ll let you sleep as long as you want. Please?” Roman walks into the room with a tray carrying a bowl of soup, and Patton smiles, taking it, and Roman turns to leave. Virgil finally nods, and Patton feels himself relax. He sets the tray aside and helps Virgil sit up, having him lean against the headboard and spoon feeding him the soup. Virgil looks like he’s relaxing more as he eats the soup, and when he’s eaten half of it, Patton helps him lay down again and fixes the cloth on his forehead. “Okay baby, thank you. You can sleep now.” Virgil nods and falls asleep almost instantly.

Patton refuses to leave his side after that, especially when Virgil doesn’t wake up the next day. Or the one after that. He tries his best to stay awake for Virgil, so that he’s awake when the anxious side wakes up, but he allows himself little naps. He’s taking a nap when Virgil finally wakes up on the third day, feeling something shake him, just barely, and he whines, shifting and refusing to wake up fully; he’s so tired. Then the shaking gets harder to ignore, and there’s a voice telling him, “Patton, I can’t breathe. Wake up.” Patton huffs and opens his eyes, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of them, allowing himself to wake up more.

Patton looks up, his eyes landing on Virgil, who’s awake, he’s awake and his eyes are open, and he said something! His voice is almost gone but he said something!!!

Patton throws himself at Virgil, hugging him tightly. “Oh, kiddo! I’m so glad you’re awake! You had us all worried so much! How are you feeling? How’s your throat? Does your head still hurt?” He needed to know if his kiddo was okay! But oh my gosh he was awake!!!

Virgil wheezes and taps Patton’s back. “C-can’t… Breathe.” Patton makes a small sound and backs off, feeling embarrassed; he should know better than to hug someone who was sick! “Oh, I’m sorry kiddo! I just got excited, you haven’t woken up in two days and-“

Virgil cuts him off, looking pale. “Wait, how long have I been sick?” Oh man… Patton really blew this one. Virgil was going to freak out… “…. Two weeks?”

Virgil’s eyes widen, and he makes an aborted sound in the back of his throat. Patton’s eyebrows knit together as Virgil’s breathing starts coming faster and he starts talking too fast, sitting up and gripping his hair. “How could I be so stupid, how could I let this happen? Oh god, is Thomas okay? Have I been replaced? What if they’ve figured out how to function without me? What if they don’t need me? What if they did and I wasn’t there and now Thomas is-“

Patton has to cut him off, because he’s barely breathing, and he looks about ready to pass out again and Patton just got him back. “Whoa, whoa, slow down kiddo, deep breaths. Thomas is okay, we’re all okay. You’re safe, everyone’s safe. Just breathe. That’s it, come on now, shhhh.” Patton gently pushes on his chest until Virgil lays back down, then starts petting his hair again. “Everything’s okay, you just rest up and get better, okay kiddo?” He smiles when Virgil nods. “You think you can eat something?” Virgil nods again, and Patton gets up, heading for the door. He stops as he reaches for the handle, biting hips lip and looking back at Virgil. Should he just like… yell down to Roman? No, he probably should go. He leaves, heading down to the kitchen.

When he gets downstairs, he finds Roman and Logan both on the couch, and they look almost like excited puppies when they see him. The thought makes him laugh a bit as he heads into the kitchen. He starts on some soup, Logan and Roman walking into the doorway.

“Has he finally regained consciousness?”

“Is he okay?”

“I assume by your pleasant demeanor that he is better?”

Patton just grinned and nodded. “Yep! He opened his eyes!” Both sides sag with relief, and Patton almost laughs, but he understands how they feel; they were all scared their idea wouldn’t work, but Thomas was out with Joan, Talyn, and Terrence right now so it must have.

“Can we see him then?” Roman looked like he was vibrating with nerves, the poor thing. Logan adjusts his glasses. “I believe it would be best not to overwhelm him; he may not be up to having several visitors at once.” Roman deflates.

“Right.”

Patton hums, stirring the soup. “Let me ask, okay kiddo? Maybe he’ll be okay with it, you never know!” Roman brightens at that, and Roman and Logan go back to the couch as Patton serves up the soup and carries it to Logan’s room. He enters the room, smiling at Virgil as he sets the tray with soup at Virgil’s feet as he helps him up. Once Virgil’s sitting up, he spoon-feeds him the soup, waiting until he’s done to ask, “You think you’re up to seeing Lo and Ro? They’ve been really worried, too.” Virgil nods, grimacing when he speaks – his throat must really hurt. “Yeah, fine, bring them in.”

Patton practically runs out of the room, stopping in front of the couch and babbling a quick, “He said come in!” before running back up the stairs. Roman isn’t far behind him, and though Logan would never admit it, he was running up the stairs too. They stop outside of Logan’s room to compose themselves before walking in, and the three sit on the bed around Virgil. It’s silent for a moment before Virgil says, “So…. That was crazy about the Nazis, huh?” Roman and Patton look confused, and mildly worried that Virgil’s still delirious, but then Logan starts laughing, so they figure it was an inside joke. The conversation develops quickly after that, the other three trying to carry most of it so Virgil doesn’t have to speak too much. They don’t want to admit that the sound of his voice makes their hair stand on end; it sounds so painful.

After a few hours, Virgil starts to sag against the headboard, his eyelids drooping. Patton looks over at him and nudges Roman, who’s in the middle of retelling his latest escapade, and Roman smiles. “Get some rest, Hot Topic.” Virgil hums noncommittally and Roman gets up, dragging Logan out with him. Patton smiles kindly, helping Virgil lay down and tucking him back in before kissing his forehead. He pets the anxious side’s hair, talking to him until he falls asleep.

The next day, the three sides are all in the living room, debating if they should go check on Virgil and wake him up. He was still sick yesterday after all; just because he woke up and talked to them didn’t mean he was magically cured. Just then, Virgil comes shuffling down the stairs and they pretend to be reading and watching TV. Virgil silently sits down on the opposite end of the couch, and they’re just so glad to have him back that they can’t find it in them to say anything.

Well, Patton would lecture him about proper communication and self-care tomorrow, but for now, he was going to watch Big Hero 6 with his dark strange son.

“Guys? …Shouldn’t we tell Thomas?”

Roman flaps his hand dismissively. “He already knows, Surley Temple, don’t worry.”

Yep, it was great to have him back.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders

137 notes · View notes

theeeveetamer · 5 years

Note

Helloo! Hm, if you don't mind, I have a request for some more of the modern omegaverse? Particularly how Leo and Takumi met, or the scene with good ol protective Ryoma :)

Alright here we go. I know nothing about this is specific to high school, but in my modern Omegaverse I always envisioned Leo and Takumi being high school sweethearts.

I had a lot of fun writing this, so it ended up being really damn long. Like, almost 40 pages. Couple of notes: I know Mikoto isn’t their canon mother but since she has an established relationship with all of the Hoshidan sibs I think she’s easier to write and makes more sense in Omegaverse. I based this on my high school’s class scheduling, which was four classes a semester, 90 minutes per class. We called them blocks but most places have ‘periods’ so they’re referred to as such for simplicity sake. Finally, I’ve arbitrarily decided that America’s drinking age is 18 in this fic because it should be.

Tags: Omegaverse, High School AU, Omega!Takumi, Alpha!Leo, falling in love, Lower Middle Class Leokumis, Mentions of child abuse/alcoholism

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17282396

“Alright are we ready?”

“Yep! On three!”

Takumi slid his finger under the lip of the envelope, and his friends followed suit.

“One… Two… Three!”

They all tore the glue seal, some more elegantly than others. Hinata got impatient half way through and just ripped the envelope down the middle. Oboro’s wasn’t much better, but at least she’d managed to tear it lengthwise like she was supposed to.

They all pulled out their class schedules at the same time and compared.

“Alright I have geometry first thing… Ugh.” He groaned. He liked math as much as the next guy, but that early in the morning?

“Damn, I have it third.” Oboro pointed out. “But we have the same teacher, so we can at least do the homework together.”

“Wait, I thought we were taking that next semester!”

They tried to schedule their class preferences so that they matched up, but that still didn’t guarantee they would get classes together. Hinata always mixed up at least one class and took it in the wrong semester.

“No, Hinata. We were going to take art next semester, remember?”

“Well shit.” He laughed. “You guys’ll still help me, right?”

Takumi rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

“C’mon Takumi, what do you have next?”

It didn’t take them long to hash out the schedules. He was on his own first period, but he and Oboro had gym together fourth period. He and Hinata shared American History during third period, which also meant they had lunch together. They were all taking different language courses anyways, so he knew he’d have at least one class by himself.

With that settled he was scanning his schedule again just to ensure they shared the same teachers.

“Fuck…” He muttered under his breath.

“What is it?”

“I just realized that we have Izana for history.”

“So?”

Hinata was the oldest in his family and Oboro was an only child, so they didn’t have the ‘benefit’ of having older siblings go before them. Sometimes it was nice because he knew which teachers were good, and sometimes it was awful. If he had a quarter for every time a teacher said ‘Oh, Shirasagi? Are you Ryoma’s little brother? Well he was a joy to have in class!’ he’d be loaded.

“Ryoma and Hinoka both had him! They say he likes to play matchmaker with the Omegas in the class. Plus, he assigns a lot of group projects.”

“Ugh, great! You’ll be my partner right?”

“Obviously, dude.” Even though working with Hinata usually resulted in both of them getting distracted and goofing off until last minute, he wouldn’t have it any other way. As long as he got his A he didn’t really care how the project got done.

Though, he was concerned about a little more than just the group projects. There were definitely more Alphas in their school than Omegas, and ever since he’d presented he’d been dealing with dumb ‘matchmaking’ teachers. Heck, they were doing it before he’d even presented! And pretty much every time it happened the Alpha fell head over heels for him, and he absolutely did not reciprocate.

He couldn’t even count the number of calls Mama needed to make to the school about it on both hands. And whatever number that was, he’d probably have to double it to even get close to the number of overstepping Alphas Ryoma beat the shit out of on his behalf. In fact, most Alphas were beginning to treat being seated next to him as a death sentence, which wasn’t exactly doing wonders for his romantic life. The only Alphas in their grade willing to go within fifteen feet of him were Hinata and Oboro.

He tugged anxiously at his collar. Oboro seemed to notice because she finally changed the subject.

“Well, we only have a few weeks left of summer! Let’s not waste it thinking about school!”

“Damn straight!” Hinata agreed.

“Come on, Mama said dinner would be done around six. And hey, she bought a ton of popcorn for movie night!”

_________________

The first day back was always the worst. Farewell to staying up until four am and waking up at noon, hello dragging his ass out of bed at seven am. At least Ryoma was a senior this year, so Mama let him take the car to school. Hinoka took shotgun and he sat in the back with Sakura. She was fiddling with the strap of her messenger bag and biting her lip nervously.

“You look cute today, baby sister.” She really did. He could tell she’d woken up early to do her hair and makeup, and she’d picked out one of her favorite dresses. It was a far cry from his ratty old jeans and tshirt or Hinoka’s athletic shorts and tank top. He hadn’t even bothered to comb his hair out when he woke up, he’d just thrown it in it’s regular ponytail. He almost envied his sisters’ shorter hair.

“T-Thanks! I’m just so n-nervous, you know?”

“You’ll see! High school isn’t so scary!” Hinoka threw over her shoulder from the passenger seat. “Heck, you’ll be sick of it before long!”

“Come on Hinoka. Let her have one day before you make her jaded.” Ryoma chuckled.

“You’ll do great.” He patted her hand. “Let me know if you get lost okay? I can help you walk to class.”

“A-Alright.”

______________

The day went pretty quickly. It was the first day, so most of the teachers were just going over their syllabi and doing some dumb icebreakers so the class could get to know each other. It was mind numbing, but at least he could doodle in his notebooks and just pretend to be paying attention.

He’d been silently dreading third period all day, and all was well until then. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. It would be nice to sit next to Hinata, but if Izana really was a matchmaker then that could make things awkward. Then again, he’d rather things be a little awkward with his best friend than get harassed by some Alpha that needed to learn the definition of ‘boundaries’.

Hinata was already inside the classroom. He waved at Takumi from around the middle of the classroom and motioned to the empty seat beside him. The desks were laid out very strangely: Each row had six desks, and three columns consisting of two desks pushed together.

“No alphabetical order?”

Hinata shrugged. “He just told us to sit wherever.”

The man in question was currently behind his computer at the front of the room. The bell rang, but he still seemed intent on whatever he was working on. A few minutes of idle chatting later he stood up and stepped to the center of the room.

“Good afternoon everyone. I’ve created a randomized seating chart for you all. Please come sit in your new seat when I call your name.”

They were about ten desks in when the pattern became obvious. Of course every Omega just so happened to be paired with an alpha, despite the sizable portion of Betas in the class. Randomized. Sure.

“… Shirasagi, Takumi!” He squinted his eyes at the paper for a moment. “Weird, I think I had your brother. Or was it a sister?”

“It was both…” He mumbled dejectedly as he took his seat.

“Alright then let’s see… Windmire, Leo!”

Oh gods. Anyone but him.

Their brothers had been feuding since Ryoma’s freshman year, he couldn’t even remember what about. Something about a failed science project that both of them insisted wasn’t their fault. After that it was pretty much silently agreed upon that the Shirasagis would avoid the Windmires, and they would do the same. He’d never personally met Leo, but he’d heard stories. Mainly about how he was a stuck up pretty boy.

And yeah, just looking at him walk across the room he’d believe those rumors. He had a way about him that was hard to miss. He never slouched or shuffled; He strode along like he was above it all. And he was tall. At least six foot or so. Which, Takumi supposed wasn’t all that impressive for Alphas in general, but at fifteen or sixteen most of them were still growing and stood at around five foot eight to five foot ten. That meant he was constantly looking down his nose at everyone else. It was a little intimidating, at five foot six he’d pretty much stopped growing, and he was considered tall for an Omega. Sakura was only five foot two.

The blonde dropped his newly acquired textbook and notebooks down on the desk next to him. They didn’t say a word to each other as Izana finished assigning seats. It seemed like his siblings hadn’t exaggerated: Every Omega in the class was paired off with an Alpha. When that was done he handed out the syllabi and moved back to the front of the class to go over it.

“In this class I believe in learning the value of teamwork! So, you’ll have four group projects. Three due throughout the semester and one final project. Your project partners will be the person you’re sitting next to. No exceptions. These are big projects and will require outside work, so be sure to get your partner’s contact information.”

He heard the Alpha beside him audibly groan. He was, quite frankly, a little offended. Sure he and Hinata goofed off, but he was still a straight A student damn it! Where did this asshole get off?

They suffered silently through the remaining eighty minutes of class until lunch. When the bell rang he reluctantly turned to his seatmate.

“So…” He was loathe to do it, but unfortunately he had to. “We should probably exchange numbers.”

The Alpha rolled his eyes as he pulled out his phone.

“I’m sorry, do you have a problem with me?”

“Just don’t tank my grade. It’s bad enough that I have to associate with a Shirasagi, but an Omega?”

Ah, there it was. The old stereotype that an Omega couldn’t be smart, too. Boy, was this asshole in for a rude awakening.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either.” He growled as he typed his number in. “But I’m not about to get a B just because I’m stuck with you as a partner.”

With the exchange done he collected up his backpack and met up with Hinata, who was waiting by the door for him.

________

“Ugh, can you believe that guy!” He groused, shoving his sandwich into his mouth. Hinata was similarly scarfing down his food, but they were sitting on their own because Oboro had a different lunch.

Between complaining he was also scanning the room for Sakura. She’d texted him that they had the same lunch and he wanted to make sure she wasn’t sitting on her own. He finally caught sight of her – she was kind of hard to miss with the pink hair – sitting a few tables away with her friend Hana and some blonde girl he’d never met. Reasonably assured she was in good hands, he continued his complaining about Leo.

“I mean, the nerve of the guy! Implying that I can’t do work just because I’m an Omega!”

“Yeah, I can’t believe it either.” Hinata added through a mouthful of chips. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I would have failed algebra if it wasn’t for you.”

“Exactly! I mean–” He realized quickly that he probably shouldn’t be insulting his friend’s intelligence just to prove a point. “Sorry, Hinata.”

His friend just waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s talk about something else.”

He tried to keep his attention off of the blonde Alpha, but he kept catching him out of the corner of his eye and getting infuriated all over again.

__________

The rest of the day was, thankfully, pretty uneventful. He’d almost forgotten all about Leo and his prissy attitude until he got home and he and Sakura were helping Mama with dinner. He and Sakura were chopping up vegetables while she prepared the meats. Hinoka was still at baseball practice and Ryoma was in his room working on his college essays.

“So how was school?”

“Great!” Sakura started excitedly chattering. “Hana and I have a lot of classes together s-so that was good! And I met a r-really nice girl named Elise in first period!”

“That’s great, sweetie! What about you Takumi, did you have fun? Make any new friends?”

He shrugged. “Not really. But there was this one guy in my history class…”

“Oh? You met a boy?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Mama! It’s not like that! He’s… He’s completely insufferable!” He let out a frustrated sigh. “Mister Izana paired us up for every class project, and this dumb Alpha thinks I’m stupid just because I’m an Omega!”

“Oh dear… Well I’m sure it won’t be so bad. Once he gets to know you I’m sure he’ll warm up.”

“I dunno, he’s a Windmire. They’re, like, predisposed to hate us or something!”

“I’m sure he can’t be that bad. You know what I always say, never judge a book by its cover!”

“Yes, Mama.” He rolled his eyes. Of course she didn’t get it. She hadn’t even met Leo, she had no idea how rude he’d been!

He finished up slicing the vegetables and Mama shooed them both out of the kitchen so she could finish cooking. He didn’t have much to do since there wasn’t any homework, so he decided to bum around on his laptop until dinner.

He hadn’t really intended to start cyberstalking Leo, it had just kind of happened. It started when he tried looking up the Alpha’s social media, but the guy was a ghost. None of the Windmires seemed to have any online presence, and the only pictures he found were from what he was guessing were Leo’s friends. He’d just wanted to get a general idea of the guy, but after an hour of coming up blank finding anything became an obsession. How could he not have anything online? It was just so weird!

He finally stopped when Mama called them all down to dinner, and he realized how ridiculous he was being. So what if he couldn’t find any information? Why should he care about this asshole anyways? He shut the laptop and hurried to the dining room.

____________

The first month or so went by without too many problems. He and Leo mostly just ignored each other during class, and once it was over he made a quick escape to lunch with Hinata. They didn’t get the details about their first project until late September. It wasn’t much, just a paper. It was about three pages and due in two weeks, so he wasn’t too worried about it just yet.

He stuck the project requirements into his folder and headed down to lunch. The second he left the room his phone buzzed in his pocket.

We should get started on this project today.

He glanced over his shoulder. Leo was literally standing ten feet away from him. Was he for real?

He pulled his phone back out to respond.

Dude, you’re literally standing right there. You couldn’t talk to me?

He watched as the blonde’s phone buzzed and he typed his response. This was ridiculous, was he really so conceited that he couldn’t even talk to him?

Look who’s talking.

“Ugh!” He stuffed his phone back in his pocket. “Come on Hinata, let’s go.”

All of lunch was a back and forth.

The project isn’t even due until two weeks from now.

I’m not going to fail this class because you wanted to wait until last minute.

Fine! We can start working on it tonight then! Your house or mine?

Better do yours.

Alright, meet me by the exit after school. My brother will drive us.

Gods, what an arrogant asshole! As if waiting a week would kill them! If he were working alone he could get it done in two days! Not to mention the fact that he wanted to start working on it on a Friday night! Sure, Takumi had just planned to stay in and watch movies, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have had plans!

Sakura was already waiting by the door, along with her blonde friend. She waved at him as he approached. “B-Big brother! This is my friend, Elise.”

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you.” Now that he was closer he could see that she was an Omega as well. The heat suppressants could make it hard to tell sometimes, but only Omegas wore collars like that. Hers was made of dyed black leather and it was studded with little purple rhinestones to match her black and purple dress.

“Ta-ku-mi,” She enunciated every syllable in his name carefully. “Did I say it right?”

“Y-Yeah, that’s right.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you too, Takumi!” She beamed up at him. Geez when Sakura said Elise was friendly she wasn’t kidding. They hadn’t known each other five minutes and she was already chattering away like they’d been friends for decades.

Leo turned up a few minutes later. Takumi caught sight of him down the hall, and he seemed confused as he approached.

“Elise? What are you doing here?”

Did they know each other?

“Aw, Leo! Did you make friends too?”

The Alpha side-eyed him and then shook his head. “Absolutely not. We’re just working on a project together. What are you doing?”

“Xander said I could stay over at Sakura’s tonight! We’re gonna get together with Hana and Effie to do girl stuff!”

“Did you ask father too?”

She pouted. “You know how he is.”

“… Alright, but you need to finish your homework beforehand.”

“Yeah, yeah. Camilla already gave me the lecture. Sakura and I are gonna get it all done before dinner.”

So, Elise was Leo’s little sister? He hadn’t really considered the possibility that Sakura’s new friend was a Windmire, but he supposed it made sense. He’d forgotten about the youngest sibling since she was the grade below him and they’d never had classes together or anything.

It was almost cute watching them; It reminded him a lot of his relationship with Sakura. That didn’t mean Leo wasn’t still a complete asshole, but he supposed even assholes had their moments.

Ryoma finally came down the hall, backpack slung over one shoulder and spinning his keys around his finger.

“Who are your friends?”

“We aren’t friends.” He and Leo said it in unison. Ryoma raised and eyebrow, and Sakura giggled.

“W-We’re just working on a project.” He finished lamely.

His brother shrugged his shoulders, but he was glaring daggers at Leo already. It wasn’t angry, more like don’t you dare fuck with my little brother, asshole. Leo shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Alright, well let’s get home.”

He’d never really felt self-conscious about his house before. It wasn’t the biggest, and it certainly wasn’t the nicest. He’d known Hinata and Oboro for so long that none of it mattered because… Well it never had before. He didn’t know much about Leo, but this stuck up pretty boy was probably used to nicer stuff.

Mama couldn’t work because she didn’t have an Alpha to sign off on it. Papa made pretty good money, but after he died they had to cut back and make do on the insurance money. They only owned one car since Mama only left to do errands, and she could do those once they got home from school.

Their house was a standard split-level with three bedrooms and a basement. He and Sakura actually shared a room, and Ryoma and Hinoka did the same. Mama took the smallest room and his older siblings had the master bedroom. The basement was a general family room, with a nice but old flat screen TV, an old Nintendo that he’d found for twenty bucks at a neighbor’s garage sale, and a big sectional couch. The upstairs had a much smaller TV and couch that Mama mainly used to watch the news. Or to stop arguments when everyone wanted to watch something at the same time.

The nicest piece of furniture they owned was probably their dining table. Mama had been saving up for a new one for years because the old one was too small for a family of five, and she liked it when they all ate together. Plus, one or more of their friends usually came over for dinner more often than not and she liked entertaining company. It made the small space a little cramped but Mama always made sure it was clean and overall it was pretty cozy.

They all kicked their shoes off, and Takumi tried not to look at their guests faces when they stepped inside. He wasn’t sure if he could stop himself from punching Leo in the face if he got condescending about it.

“Come on. We can work on our project in my room. Sakura, are you and Elise okay in the living room?”

“Y-Yeah no problem!”

It would be a little too cramped in their small space with four people in there. Usually when they did homework they all set up on the dining room table and did it together. But he didn’t want to disturb Ryoma and Sakura since he and Leo would probably be pretty distracting with their talking.

Mama greeted them at the top of the stairs.

“Perfect timing. Ryoma dear can you give me the keys? I need to go grocery shopping.”

“They’re in the key bowl by the door.”

“Great!” She looked over their two guests. “Are you two going to be staying for dinner?”

“Oh, right! Mama this is Leo, and that’s Sakura’s friend Elise.”

“Nice to meet you Missus Shirasagi.” Leo extended a hand for her to shake.

“Please, you can just call me Mikoto.”

“I don’t know how long Leo and I will be working on our project, but Elise will definitely be here for dinner.”

“Alright I’ll buy a little extra then!” That went without saying, though. Mama always bought extra for guests. She grabbed the keys and headed out, and Takumi led Leo down the hall to his room.

“Takumi!” Ryoma called out to him from the living room.

“What?”

“Leave the door open!”

“Ryoma!” He could feel his face heating up. Gods, like he would ever do anything with this guy!

He left the door open anyways, mostly because it was better than having Ryoma randomly barge in and “need something” like he always did if Takumi shut the door.

There wasn’t a whole lot of room to spread out. Most of the space was taken up by two twin beds. Their room was about ten feet wide, and there was about four feet of open space between the beds. They each had their own nightstand, and there was a dresser shoved in the closet. It was a pretty wide closet, but they had to share. Three of the four dresser drawers belonged to him, but two thirds of the closet belonged to Sakura because she owned so many dresses.

All in all, it was pretty obvious what belonged to whom in the room. Sakura had a lot of decor of her namesake: Her lampshade and bedspread both featured cherry blossom patterns, and she had a variety of little bobbles including a little glass cherry blossom tree that Mama made for her by hand. She also had a few canvasses hanging from the walls with several different designs, one of which featured cherry blossoms once again. Most of it wasn’t her choice, it was just what people bought her for birthdays and Christmas. It was a good thing she liked pink.

His side was a little plainer decor-wise. In addition to his bed and nightstand he also had a bookshelf that was overflowing with books on history and philosophy. There were so many that he’d begun stacking them on top of the shelf as well. On top of those books an old Shogi board was perched, just in case any of his siblings ever wanted to play with him again. They had a few other board games on the top shelf of the closet. Sometimes they had game nights on the weekend, but for the most part they went untouched. His bow and a quiverfull of arrows were currently leaning in the space between the nightstands. He didn’t really have anywhere else for it, since his kendo equipment was underneath the bed and there was no more room in the closet.

“Sorry it’s not very big.” He dropped his backpack on his bed and pulled out his laptop. Mama bought them all the same cheap little chromebook one year for Christmas when they were on sale. It wasn’t the best, but it got the job done.

Leo just shrugged and followed suit. His laptop was bigger, but it also looked pretty old. He brought out the charger as well.

“Got an outlet somewhere? The battery on this damn thing is burnt out.”

Once they were finally set up on the floor he pulled the assignment sheet back out of his folder.

“Alright, looks like we have to discuss the fallout after the civil war. Three pages, double spaced, yadda yadda. And a presentation to the class.”

“You haven’t even read the assignment yet?”

“When was I supposed to read it? Izana gave it to us at the end of class, and I wasn’t going to read it over during gym class!”

“Gods I’m going to fail.” The Alpha muttered under his breath.

“Hey!” Takumi growled. “Would you stop treating me like I’m some ditz! I’m trying to get an A too, you know! So just start the damn powerpoint and I’ll start the paper.”

He flipped his textbook open to the relevant chapter and started scanning for information.

The Alpha sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just used to my partners slacking.”

Well of all the things he’d been expecting, he certainly hadn’t seen an apology coming.

“I-It’s fine. Let’s just get this done so I can actually enjoy this weekend.”

They worked for a solid hour, only talking to ensure that their points matched up. He was probably a third of the way done with the rough draft of their paper, and Leo was about half done with the powerpoint when they were interrupted by Elise entering the room.

“Leeeeooo!” She called from the door.

“What is it, Elise?”

“Can you help me with math?”

“Have you done all of the problems you can solve?”

“Yep! And Sakura helped me with some, but there are a couple we can’t get.”

“And you finished your other subjects?”

“Uh huh! We did those first.”

“Alright, I’ll come help you in a few minutes.”

“Okay!” She skipped back down the hall and sat down with Sakura at the dining room table.

Leo shut his laptop and shoved his books back into his backpack.

“I thought you wanted to get this project done?”

The blonde rolled his eyes. He was just now noticing, but had they always been that color? Or was the dim light in his room playing tricks on his eyes? He hadn’t really been paying attention, but he swore he would have remembered such vivid red eyes.

“This is exactly why I start projects when they’re assigned. We don’t have to do it all today.”

He left all of his things on the floor of Takumi’s room and headed back out into the main living area.

Takumi had managed to get all of his homework done in class today. He was pretty bored in geometry, so he usually did the homework as he was taking notes. Plus with ninety minute classes their teacher usually gave them half of that time for homework. His language class usually made it a point not to assign any homework, and their history class assigned the project in lieu of any real homework. So he decided to take his laptop into the living room and start picking out a movie for tonight. Ryoma had disappeared to somewhere, probably over to Saizo’s house to hang out.

He was actually currently stealing his good friend’s netflix, and with October on the horizon most of the queue was horror movies. It was just easier to stay logged in since they usually hung out at his house. Hinata didn’t usually mind, as long as he didn’t hog it or remove things from his list.

Elise and Sakura really only had two math problems they couldn’t get on their own, and once Leo walked them through the first one they didn’t even need help on the second. He got the sense that this was something Leo did a lot, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed by it. Maybe he wasn’t as stuck up as everyone seemed to imply.

“So,” The Alpha finally spoke directly to him. He’d been so focused on his computer that it startled him. “You like horror movies?”

He shuddered at the thought. Horror movies always made his nightmares so much worse. “No, actually. This is my friend’s account. I take it you do?”

“Mhmm. That’s too bad, I know a few good ones you might enjoy.”

“… Nothing too scary?”

“I suppose that depends on your definition of scary.”

“Hmm… Well I don’t do paranormal. Hard no on anything paranormal. I also don’t really like monsters or ghouls or anything like that.”

“Home invasion?”

“Yeah I think I could do that.” If he were being honest he would have said not in a million years, but he also didn’t want to seem like a complete wuss.

He grinned. “I have the perfect movie. Do you want to watch it on my laptop?”

“W-What? You mean, right now?”

He shrugged. “I’m here, and obviously we’ve both already checked out of this project for today. Besides, I don’t want to leave in case Elise needs me for something else.”

Just then he was saved by the bell – or rather, his mother.

“Takumi! Come help me get the groceries in!”

He hopped up and ran to the car, thankful to get out of that conversation. Maybe he wouldn’t have to watch a horror movie after all.

“Would you like some help with those?” Leo asked, indicating the bags she was carrying. She handed them off to him gratefully and he finished getting them into the kitchen. Then Leo helped him bring in the few bags from the car, and they were done in one trip. He tried to help put things away, but Mama shooed him back out into the living room.

Leo was standing by, waiting for him to get done.

“So, how about it?”

“I don’t know if we have time for a movie. Mama when is dinner?”

“Oh don’t worry about it sweetie. There’s plenty of time for a movie.”

Fuck. Looks like he was doing this.

“Alright, sure. Sakura will probably want the basement so she can get ready for her sleepover, so we can watch it in my room.”

With Ryoma out he could finally shut his door. It wasn’t that he wanted to do anything, he just liked having the privacy. Leo set his laptop up on the bed.

“Turn off the lights.”

“W-What?”

“Come on, it’s a horror movie. You have to set the mood!”

He flicked the lights off and sat down. He tried to keep a respectable distance, but it was hard when they were watching on a laptop. They had three or four inches between their shoulders at best.

It was a little weird, if he was being honest. He’d never had an Alpha on his bed unless it was Hinata or Oboro. He hadn’t realized how weirdly intimate it was until he was sitting with the blonde. His heart was racing, though that was probably just from the movie. Though, by the end of it he was actually clinging to Leo’s arm and hiding his face in the sleeve of the blonde’s hoodie.

They were nearing the end of the movie. By now there had been a few tense moments of this woman trying to escape her would-be killer, and a few jump scares to set his nerves on edge. She was trying to crawl back in her window while the killer chased her, and he had to stop himself from shouting go, go, go, go!

The door to his room slammed open and he screamed. Not a yelp or a cry of surprise, he actually yelled out in terror and hid his face behind the Alpha’s shoulder.

“Takumi?” It was just Ryoma. Apparently he hadn’t been as gone as Takumi thought him.

“Gods, Ryoma! You scared the shit out of me!”

“My apologies. I just wanted to know if you needed anything.”

“Yeah! A new damn pair of underwear! Geez Ryoma, can’t I have the door closed for five minutes without you barging in!”

His brother put his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Finish your movie, mother said that dinner will be ready soon.

As soon as he backed out Leo chuckled. “I didn’t think you would be that scared by this movie!”

“I-I wasn’t scared! He just surprised me is all!” He scooted away from Leo and drew his knees up to his chest.

“Of course, obviously.” Leo nodded. “Alright pay attention. We’re almost at the end.”

They very end of the movie was more action packed and didn’t have as many jump scares, so it was a little easier to get through. She managed to fight off her attacker and call the police in the end. And hey, the cat didn’t even die. When the credits started rolling Leo shut his laptop.

“So, what did you think?”

“The entire plot of this movie could have been avoided if this woman just owned a landline.”

“That’s… Exactly what I always say.”

There was an awkward lull in the conversation. After a moment he finally responded again.

“W-We should get to the dining room. Mama is probably waiting for us.”

He reached for the light, but in the dark he didn’t see the stack of books hanging a few inches over the edge of his bookshelf. He accidentally bumped them and brought the entire pile down.

“Shit!” He muttered. He managed to flick the light on. Only five or six books ended up on the ground, and he quickly picked them up and re-stacked them on the shelf.

“The Stranger?” Leo picked the top paperback off the stack and flipped it over.

“Well aren’t you nosy!” He shot back, defensively. Most people that saw his book collection automatically labelled him a huge nerd, including his older siblings.

“I’ve been trying my hardest not to snoop, but it’s kind of hard not to notice when you’re a complete klutz and knock over piles of books. Besides, it’s one of my favorites, I couldn’t help bringing it up.”

“I actually haven’t finished it yet.” He admitted. “Nihilism isn’t really my thing, and I can’t stand the main character!”

“Really? I think it leans more absurdist myself. How far did you get?”

“Uh, I think I was about half way through part one.”

“You should try again. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

He took the book from the Alpha and tossed it on his nightstand.

“You know, for a pretty boy you’re kind of a dork.”

He was into philosophy and history? What was next? Would Leo tell him that he’s on the school’s chess team?

“I could say the same of you, Takumi.”

Wait, did Leo just call him pretty? Did he just call Leo pretty? To his face? Oh gods, like he needed another reason to go red as a tomato. He hurried past the Alpha and took his seat at the table with the rest of his family and Elise. There were seven places set at the table. Ryoma was sitting on one end, Mama on the other, and Elise, Sakura, and Hinoka on one side. That left two places on the other for he and Leo to sit. He took his usual seat nearest Mama, but Leo hung back a moment. He checked his watch.

“Actually I think it’s time I headed home.”

He wasn’t about to stop Leo, though he was a little disappointed. He’d just found out that they had so much in common, and he’d been kind of hoping that they could chat more.

“Please stay for dinner at least! Sakura was just telling me about how helpful you’ve been, it’s the least I can do.”

He looked conflicted, but he ultimately sat down.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Mama smiled at him, then leaned over and whispered conspiratorially in his ear.

“Is this the boy you’ve been complaining about? He’s so polite!”

“Mama please!” His face was already red enough from that earlier pretty boy comment.

“So, Leo.” Oh gods. Ryoma was going to do this to him? Tonight? “You’re working on a project with Takumi?”

“That’s right.”

“Uh huh. How’s your GPA?”

“Ryoma…” He muttered under his breath.

“I have a perfect GPA, actually.”

“Good, good… Because, you know, my brother doesn’t waste his time with stupid men.”

“Ryoma!” He growled. Mama patted him on the arm.

“Now come on Ryoma, he’s our guest. There’s no need for this.” Yet. He could hear it in her voice. Gods, had his entire family gone crazy?

The rest of dinner went pretty normally, aside from Ryoma’s incessant what-are-your-intentions-with-my-brother grilling. When it was over he helped Mama clear the table, and Leo excused himself.

“I really must get going.”

“Do you live far? I can drive you home, if you’d like?” Mama called out from the kitchen. She was in the middle of doing the dishes, and Ryoma was helping her dry.

“It’s not far.” He answered quickly. “Really, I’d prefer to walk.”

“Alright. It was nice meeting you!”

Ryoma was just glaring daggers at him over her shoulder. Takumi pushed him toward the stairs and followed him into the entryway.

“Uh, sorry about him.”

Leo just shrugged. “Believe me, I’ve seen worse. Why don’t we get together on Sunday to finish the project?”

“Y-Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“I’ll text you.”

He headed out and Takumi shut the door behind him. It was still pretty warm out, but he hoped Leo didn’t have to walk too far. It was starting to get dark, and it looked like it might rain later that night.

All in all he was no longer absolutely dreading seeing Leo again. Hell, he was a completely different person than he usually was in school! He’d even called Mama ‘ma’am’!

He headed back upstairs to see if any more help was needed. Sakura and Elise had long since retreated into the basement to get things set up, and Hana and Effie would probably be there soon.

“Your friend seemed nice.” Mama was just finishing up the dishes and wiping her hands on a nearby towel.

“I don’t like him.” Ryoma slammed a plate down in the cupboard a little harder than usual.

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to like him, Ryoma. We’re just doing a class project together. Besides, he hates me anyways.”

It was true. Just because he was polite didn’t mean he liked Takumi. He was probably just minding his manners for once.

“Oh I don’t know about that, sweetie. The two of you seemed to get on just fine.” She had this glint in her eye.

“I told you, Mama, it’s not like that.”

“Good.” Ryoma muttered under his breath.

Gods, what a pain! He loved his brother, but he could be too overprotective sometimes. Heck, he still glared daggers at Hinata, and they’d been friends since they were five!

“I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

He spent the rest of the night watching dumb youtube videos to try and shake the horror movie from his mind.

_____________

Saturday went by pretty uneventfully. He and Hinata went to kendo practice in the morning and then they spent the rest of the day bumming around the park while the weather was still warm. Then later that night Oboro came over for their regular movie night.

Hinata hooked his laptop into the TV and started flicking through the movies. He and Oboro were already sitting on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn between them.

“So how did working on your project with Mister Prissy-pants go yesterday?”

“Actually, not terribly. It was, uh, actually kind of fun.”

Both of his friends stopped what they were doing and looked at him.

“Woah, hold the phone. You had fun. With Leo?”

“I mean… Look, he was still kind of a dick but I don’t know. We have a lot in common, and he was actually really sweet with Mama and his sister.”

Hinata whistled. “Well looks like it’s the end of the world everybody. Oboro, do you still have that zombie invasion action plan we wrote up?”

She shoved him. “Who said it was going to be a zombie invasion?”

“Who said it wasn’t?”

He was thankful that they didn’t push the subject, at least. Mama had been giving him that look ever since and Ryoma kept pulling him aside to have the talk. Just the memory of it made him shudder, and he was glad that Hinoka needed him for something before he could really get into it.

“I know you don’t like them, but can we please watch a horror movie? I know of a really good zombie flick now that you mention it!” Hinata urged.

Zombie movies, strangely enough, didn’t really bother him. Maybe because he knew how unlikely a zombie apocalypse was, and most of the movies were pretty bad anyways.

“Fine. But no more until Halloween!”

He started playing the movie and sat down on the couch next to Oboro. They were only about ten minutes in when he got distracted by a text from Leo.

Hey, sorry but I’m not going to be able to meet tomorrow.

What? Why?

Some family stuff came up. Sorry, we can talk about it more on Monday?

Alright, just don’t go tanking my grade with your slacking.

“Hey!” Oboro snapped her fingers. “Eyes on the screen!”

“Sorry, sorry!” He shut his phone off and set it aside.

He was a little disappointed. Maybe Leo got scared off by his family after all? But still, they could have met up at the library or something. He just hoped his overbearing brother wasn’t about to be the reason he failed a class.

______________

After awhile he started wondering what exactly came up to stop Leo from working on their project. Just three days ago he’d been so insistent that they get the project done immediately, but now he was delaying?

Though, it didn’t take him long to figure out what had happened. He walked into third period, and the first thing he noticed was the blonde in the second row. His left eye was swollen and bruised up. Takumi took his seat and set his backpack down.

“Geez, what happened?”

“Oh this? It’s nothing.” He brushed it off. He didn’t seem interested in talking about it, so he dropped it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant.

“… Did you want to get the rest of this project done today? I was thinking we could go to the library after school.”

“Yeah, sure. Sound’s good.”

He couldn’t pay attention for the rest of class. He knew it wasn’t any of his business, but he couldn’t help speculating. What the hell happened? Heck, he wouldn’t be at all surprised if Ryoma hunted him down after he left their house. Not that it’d happened, he could think of plenty of people that would want to punch Leo in the face.

______________

They decided to head to the library separately after school. Takumi arrived first. It was a pretty big library, and they’d agreed to meet near the back. There was a section specifically designed for teens to hang around in. There were a few tables, some computers, and a couple of board games, TVs, and even a game console. He didn’t usually come back to this section, but it was the most recognizable one so he’d picked it on a whim.

He was currently sitting at the chess table they had back there. He didn’t really have anything to do until Leo got there, and his phone was running low on battery so he was absentmindedly moving the pieces around.

There wasn’t really anyone else around, so he perked up immediately once Leo came in.

The Alpha nodded at the board. “You play?”

“Oh gods, you are a chess nerd. I knew it.”

Leo shrugged and dropped his backpack on the ground next to his chair. “My father used to play with me when I was a kid.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah, it was… Do you want to play a game?”

“Sure, but I’m not that good. I prefer shogi.”

“Show-gee? Is that like chess?”

“Yeah, a bit.”

As it turned out, Leo was quite good. He won pretty easily, and as much as he wanted to let his competitive spirit out he pushed his chair out and moved to one of the tables.

“You don’t want to play another game?”

“Oh believe me, I’m going to kick your ass in the future. But Mama wants me home for dinner so we should probably work on the project.”

They managed to finish up their project over the next two hours of working. He finished the paper, Leo finished the powerpoint, and then they swapped to proof read. He was pretty happy with the work overall, but he did veto some of Leo’s color choices for the slides.

When they were done he packed up his things, and Leo did the same.

“Would you like me to walk you home?”

He didn’t live too far from the library. It was about half way between their high school and his house. All together it would be about a fifteen minute walk from there to his house, but Mama and Ryoma wouldn’t usually let him walk anywhere by himself. They lived in an okay neighborhood, but they definitely bordered on a bad part of town. Another fifteen minutes of walking past his house and there was nothing but ramshackle ranch houses and trailers. He’d originally planned to call up Ryoma or Hinoka to get a ride, but it was a nice day, and if he had Leo with him…

“Are you sure? I can get a ride?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on my way.”

“Y-Yeah, sure.”

It would be nice to get some time to talk without his family or school projects getting in the way. He was vaguely aware of the fact that he was actually starting to like Leo. But hey, how couldn’t he? It was like someone reached into his head, pulled out all of his favorite things, and stuffed them into the body of a tall, pretty Alpha. And those eyes? Gods, those piercing, red eyes. It almost wasn’t fair.

He found out that they had even more in common on the walk home. His favorite food was beef stew, which was kind of like a soup. Though it was second only in his heart to tomatoes. Takumi had brought up the subject accidentally, and Leo had begun rambling on about them.

“… And when you bite into them! Gods it’s divine!”

“Woah, hold up. You eat raw tomatoes?”

“Yes, don’t you?”

“No. Actually, I don’t think anyone does.”

“You’re missing out.”

He scrunched up his nose. “Gross.”

Leo gently nudged him as they walked. “Hey, don’t make fun. Someday I’m going to have a garden full of just tomato plants. Then you’ll see.”

Takumi pushed him back, just a little harder. “Don’t be such a weirdo, then!”

Those fifteen minutes almost went by too fast, and before he knew it they were standing at his front door. He didn’t really want to say goodbye, but Ryoma would probably just embarrass the hell out of him, and if he didn’t come home for dinner Mama would be upset.

“So I’ll uh, see you in class tomorrow?”

“Couldn’t miss it if I wanted to.” He answered dryly. It was one of those jokes that wasn’t really a joke, the kind Takumi couldn’t help laughing at.

Leo waited for him to get inside the house before he left.

“Takumi? I thought you were going to call for a ride? You didn’t walk home alone, did you?”

“No Mama, Leo walked with me.”

“Really, he did?”

He rolled his eyes. “He was just being polite. He said it was on his way anyways.”

“Is it?”

He shrugged. He’d just taken Leo’s word for it but he didn’t check to see if the Alpha had turned back the way they came or not.

“I’m going to finish up the rest of my homework. Do you need anything?”

“No I’m fine dear. Dinner in an hour.”

Ryoma and Sakura had long since finished their homework, but Hinoka was still sitting at the dining room table when he put his backpack down. She’d probably just walked home from practice and taken a shower – Mama always made her take a shower before dinner so she didn’t stink up the place.

He loved Hinoka, but he didn’t really get to spend that much time with her. Once she got to high school most of her free time was spent either at practice or hanging out with her teammates. That, and she and Ryoma were quite close. Pretty much anything he shared with her got passed on to his brother, whether he wanted it to be or not. He supposed it made sense, he was far closer to Sakura and they were far closer to each other, but it made it much harder to relate to her.

“So…” She opened up the conversation. “Leo?”

“Oh gods, not you too!”

“Hey, I’m not judging! I think it’s great that you’re getting along! He’s a good kid.”

“He’s sixteen, he’s not a kid. And how would you know what he’s like?”

She shrugged. “Just the impression I got from him at dinner. And sometimes his sister helps out at bake sales and things for the team. She talks about him a lot.”

He did vaguely recall a busty, purple haired Alpha coming by a few times in the past to see Hinoka. She hadn’t been around long enough for him to register the connection, but now that he thought about it he did hear quite a bit about Camilla. Mostly jealous rumors from the girls in his grade, or the guys bemoaning how she only ever seemed to flirt with other girls.

“Well you don’t have to go running to Ryoma. Like I told him, we’re just doing our class projects together.”

“Alright little brother. I believe you.”

_______________

The due date for their first project came and went. They got an A, obviously, and strangely enough Takumi couldn’t wait for the next one. He and Leo worked well together, and it was nice having a project partner that didn’t distract the hell out of him for once.

In the meantime, they started spending more and more time together. In addition to his Saturday movie nights with Hinata and Oboro, he and Leo had a Friday movie night now too. Sometimes they watched them in his room, sometimes the basement. They’d begun switching off between B horror movies and terrible sci-fi flicks. Sometimes they didn’t watch a movie at all, they just played video games or a board game or just talked.

It was a few days before Thanksgiving, so they’d decided to have their movie night after school on that Tuesday instead. Though they’d never gotten around to picking a movie. His computer was lying a few feet away, HDMI cable plugged in and idling on the Netflix home screen.

He was lying down on one end of the couch, knees bent, and Leo was on the other. Their legs were just barely close enough to touch.

“What do you guys do for Thanksgiving?”

“Nothing really.”

“Really? Nothing?”

“Father hates holidays.”

“Your father sounds like a dick.”

The Alpha snorted. “You don’t know the half of it.”

He’d been wondering for awhile. Leo never talked about his family, or at least he didn’t talk about his dad. Over the past few months he’d been slowly piecing some things together, but the picture was still frustratingly incomplete.

“… Hey Leo?”

“Yeah?”

“You remember that black eye you had a few months ago?”

“What about it?”

“… How did you get it?”

He immediately regretted asking. Leo sat up, and Takumi mirrored him.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Leo just shrugged. “Why bother hiding it? My father isn’t exactly the most even tempered guy. He kind of flipped his lid when Elise came home that Saturday morning. Kept ranting about how she was whoring around with Alphas – I guess he smelled your siblings on her. I tried to stop him from throwing her out.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It is what it is.”

Takumi scooted closer to him. He didn’t really know what to say, so he did what he always did when one of his siblings was upset. He hugged him. The Alpha seemed surprised, but he didn’t pull away.

Leo smelled nice. Like a forest on a sunny, warm day. Like dirt and grass and… honeysuckle? It was a lot to take in at once. And he was so warm and his skin was so soft…

Footsteps pounded down the stairs, and he pushed the Alpha away quickly just before Ryoma could see them. Leo scooted back quickly and he turned to his computer screen so Ryoma wouldn’t suspect anything.

“Are you two doing okay down here?”

“Get out of here, Ryoma! Mama told you not to bug us!”

He was trying to hide his blushing face from his brother, but it was a losing battle. He might have been mistaken, but he thought he saw a small tint to Leo’s cheeks too.

“As long as the two of you are… getting along.” He gave Leo the I hope you aren’t fucking around down here look before he went back upstairs. Gods, he was only fifteen, why did Ryoma not trust him to keep his hormones in check?

“A-Anyways… Do you want to spend Thanksgiving here? I’m sure Mama won’t mind, she always makes too much food.”

“You don’t have to be nice to me just because of my father.”

“It’s not because of that! I would have invited you, anyways. Geez, who doesn’t have a holiday celebration?”

“… I’ll think about it. And thanks for the offer.”

______________

He’d been friends with Hinata and Oboro for a long time. They were both Alphas, but he’d never felt anything special for them. He’d never gotten butterflies in his stomach thinking about them, and he’d never spent hours going through his closet to find the right outfit before he saw them. But here he was, Thanksgiving morning, doing exactly that.

He tried to justify it. Well we’ve never had guests before. At least, no guests that weren’t Hinata, Oboro, or one of his siblings’ friends.

But then wasn’t Leo just one of his friends, too?

Mama was okay with him coming over, just like he knew she would be. Ryoma was less than thrilled, something about how he was “too young to be dating”. Whatever, he’d get over it. He and Leo weren’t even dating. He wasn’t even sure if the Alpha liked him.

He pulled at least five things out of the closet and laid them over the bed. He was staring at them hopelessly when Sakura came into the room. She was already dressed for the day in an oversized orange sweater-dress and some plain black leggings. She even had a pair of matching orange slippers and a matching headband and gods he’d never envied girls for having so many cute clothing options, but he was right now.

“A-Are you trying to look good for Leo?”

“Help.”

He’d never in a million years admit to crushing on someone to his older siblings, but Sakura was different.

“J-Just be yourself! I’m s-sure he likes you just the way you are!”

“Yeah, but I still want to look nice! But I also don’t want to look like I’m trying to look nice, you know?” He’d been wearing sweatpants and plain v-neck t-shirts the last couple of times they’d hung out. He couldn’t help himself, it’d been Friday! That was his comfy day!

“A-Alright, let me see what I can do.” She giggled.

It wasn’t too far off what he’d normally wear, in the end. She pulled out one of his usual black v-necks and a pair of jeans, but she also managed to dig out an old button down that he was pretty sure he’d gotten as a hand-me-down from Ryoma. The sleeves were a little long, so he just rolled them up to the elbows and left the front unbuttoned.

The only accessory he really owned an extensive collection of was hair ribbons. Mama usually bought him the same thing for every birthday or Christmas: A book and a hair ribbon. He loved both, so he wasn’t complaining. Sakura found a plain orange one to match the Thanksgiving theme and he quickly tied his hair up with it.

With that all sorted, they spent most of the rest of the day cooking with Mama while Ryoma and Hinoka cleaned up. They didn’t really do the traditional American thanksgiving, instead Mama tried to cook everyone’s favorite foods. There was almost always miso soup for him, salmon for Ryoma, and pickled vegetables for Hinoka along with rice, duck, a salad, and some stir-fried vegetables. She also made tea, and Sakura’s favorite mochi for dessert.

It was a pretty big task to cook it all, and they always had a ton of leftovers. Mama joked that she was glad they were finally old enough to help her out, since she used to do all of it by herself.

Hinoka popped her head in around four o’clock.

“How many places should we set?”

“Hmm… I think we’ll be having nine?”

“Nine? Who all is coming?”

“Well there’s the five of us, Leo and Elise makes seven… And since they’re coming I told them to just invite their whole family, so Xander and Camilla makes nine.”

He heard Ryoma groan from the living room. “You invited Xander?”

“Well I wasn’t going to invite everyone but Xander! That would be rude, Ryoma!” She yelled back.

He’d considered inviting Oboro and Hinata as well, but Oboro was travelling to visit family this year and Hinata’s parents were inviting over some relatives so he had to be at home. Plus, he’d avoided having Leo meet his friends thus far. Not that he was embarrassed of them or anything, he just wasn’t sure how well they’d all get along.

Everyone arrived around five, and he ran down to get the door before Ryoma could jump at it. Only Camilla, Leo, and Elise were at the door, and the eldest was holding a bottle of something. It was lightly snowing outside, so he ushered them in quickly.

“Thank you so much for inviting us, dear!” She handed over the bottle.

“Yeah, no problem. Make yourselves at home.” He hung their coats up on the nearby coat rack. Camilla and Elise ran upstairs, but Leo hung back with him.

He pulled the bottle out of the bag to get a better look at it.

“Sake? Where did you guys even get this?” As far as he knew, none of them were of age. Well, Xander might be eighteen, but he wasn’t there.

“Father won’t miss one bottle. He doesn’t even like sake, it’s just been sitting around the house.”

He shrugged. Mama sometimes drank sake, and usually she would let them have a taste around the holidays. He just put it on the kitchen counter and started getting down the serving dishes for the food. Camilla wandered in a few minutes later.

“Is there anything at all I can help with?”

He’d never seen an Alpha offer to help with kitchen stuff, but there was a first time for everything. Ryoma and Hinoka would usually help out, but only if directly asked.

“Oh don’t worry about it. You’re a guest! Besides, we’re almost done here. Just go take a seat, dinner will be in a few minutes.”

He caught a few snippets of conversation as he and Sakura carried dishes out to the table. Mainly Hinoka and Camilla discussing what the baseball season would look like come spring. Ryoma occasionally added to the conversation, but overall it was nothing he was too interested in. Elise must have been in the bathroom, and Leo was boredly sitting at the table. It didn’t take long to get everything on the table, so when it was all ready he took his usual seat next to Leo.

“Won’t Xander be joining us?”

“I’m afraid he had to work, actually.” Camilla answered. Mama took the empty plate away and he, Leo, and Hinoka all shifted over a little to make things even. He ended up sitting directly across from Sakura, Leo was in front of Elise, and Hinoka was facing Camilla.

“This all looks wonderful ma’am! I hope you had some help!” Camilla added as they began passing things around the table.

“Yes, Takumi and Sakura are quite the little chefs now!” She laughed. “I remember when they were little they tried to help cook and they nearly burnt the house down! Little Takumi came sprinting down the hall, hair singed to drag me out of bed… And what do I find in the kitchen? Ryoma and Hinoka standing over a smoking pan and Sakura crying in the corner!”

They all laughed about it now, but he remembered that year all too well. That was the year Papa died. He was maybe five? Mama didn’t get out of bed for weeks unless it was to take care of them, and little seven year old Ryoma thought it might help cheer her up if they cooked for her. Of course they were kids so none of them knew how to cook. It got her out of bed, though. It was easy to laugh at in retrospect, but at the time it had probably shocked her back into being alive and a mother.

But it wasn’t really the time for such discussions, so he laughed along.

“Mama kept the knives out of reach and I wanted to make soup. So I just dumped whole vegetables into a pot of water. Didn’t even turn the stove on. I thought her head was going to explode!”

“Kids just do the strangest things, don’t they?” Camilla added. Though, wasn’t she still a kid herself? “When we were little Elise wanted to play princesses, and unfortunately poor Leo was the only one around at the time. Elise dressed them both up in mother’s clothes and used up every last bit of her makeup! By the end they both looked like something straight out of a clown horror movie!”

“Oh? Is that where the love of headbands stems from?” He teased, nudging Leo’s foot under the table. The Alpha scoffed.

“Coming from the guy with a collection of hair ribbons.”

“Hey, don’t knock ‘em. Do you even know how hard it is to use scrunchies when you have all of this hair?”

“Why not just cut it?”

He mock-gasped. “Blasphemy.”

Leo kicked him playfully under the table, and he laughed.

Thankfully, it ended up being a very bearable holiday. Ryoma didn’t spend half of dinner re-grilling Leo like he usually did when the Alpha came over, and his brother even seemed to get along with Camilla. Plus, after dinner they all went down to the basement to watch dumb holiday movies. It was a pretty big couch, but with eight people was still a squeeze. So, naturally in the interest of making space he had to get as close to Leo as possible.

He wasn’t on top of him or anything, but he was practically glued to his side. They also didn’t have too many blankets in the basement, so he and Leo had to share. About half way through the movie the overwhelming scent of honeysuckle and grass and Leo was starting to get to his head, and he was getting antsy. They didn’t normally sit this close when they were alone, and his Alpha scent was doing very weird things to his hormones.

He started fidgeting with his hands, scratching his nails down the leg of his jeans or tapping his fingers. Leo tapped the back of his hand with his knuckles. He froze, and once he was still the Alpha grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together under the blanket.

He was at a complete loss for words. At no point did Leo’s eyes leave the screen, but he did squeeze his hand when Takumi looked over at him from the corner of his eye. He felt like he was about to explode. Leo was holding his hand. He could have died happy then and there.

When they left he was on top of the moon. Maybe Leo did like him back. He was so giddy he could barely get to sleep.

________________

He was hopeful when he returned to school the following week, but the Alpha didn’t seem keen on acknowledging that anything had happened. He didn’t bring it up, and it certainly didn’t happen again. Even when they were completely alone in his basement.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to happen after Thanksgiving, but it certainly wasn’t nothing. They finished their last two projects together, and they kept their regular Friday night hangouts, but nothing happened.

Tomorrow was their last day before the end of the semester. He and Sakura were already in their pajamas and ready for bed, but they weren’t sleeping just yet. He was lying face down with his head buried in the pillow, and she was sitting on the end of his bed with him.

“I don’t know Sakura, maybe I’m an idiot. I thought he liked me.”

“Maybe he does? I m-mean, he did hold your hand.”

“But that was a month ago! Why hasn’t he done anything else? I thought he’d ask me out or try to kiss me or something, but he’s acting like nothing happened!”

“W-Why don’t you ask him out then?”

“Are you crazy? What if he said no? Gods it’d be so embarrassing!”

“Maybe he’s j-just waiting until the end of the semester?”

He looked up from his pillow. She had a look to her that immediately set something off in his head.

“Sakura… Do you know something?”

She giggled. It wouldn’t be unusual… She was friends with Leo’s little sister, and Elise was becoming notorious for being a bit of a blabber mouth. Sakura got up and scurried back to her bed.

“C-Come on, it’s late. Worry about it t-tomorrow.”

It didn’t make him feel better, but it did give him a little hope.

___________

He waited anxiously for third period. It was the last day of classes before winter break, so most teachers didn’t have anything for them to do. He had his Geometry final in the morning, but that was about it. He hadn’t even bothered studying because even if he completely failed he’d still be getting an A in the class. Third period they were just doing presentations for their final projects, and he and Leo had already presented theirs.

Leo leaned over to him when he sat down in class.

“Hey… Can you wait for me after school? I want to ask you something.”

His heart was already pounding, but now it was doing double time.

“O-Okay.”

The rest of the day couldn’t go by fast enough. He barely even touched his lunch, and Hinata spent the entire time teasing him about his “future boyfriend”. He didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. For all he knew Leo wanted to talk about something completely unrelated.

When the end of the day came he anxiously waited by the exit for Leo. Ryoma still had to drive them home, but he hoped that his brother wouldn’t show up and kill the moment until after Leo had asked him whatever he was going to ask him.

The Alpha was with one of his friends, the white-haired one with the eyepatch. They looked like they were debating something, and eventually Leo gave an exasperated sigh. His friend apparently got his way, at least if his giddy look was any indication. The other Alpha sniggered and pushed the blonde his way.

“Hey, Leo!” He tried to be casual, but his excitement was bleeding through in his voice.

“Hey, uh… Look this is going to sound stupid, but Niles wanted me to ask…”

“Uh huh?”

“I was just wondering…”

“Yeah?” He tried not to get his hopes up, but damn were his hopes up.

Leo sighed.

“How much would it be?”

“For what?”

“For you to blow me in the bathroom.”

He had no words. He just gaped at the Alpha for a minute, and finally stuttered out an “Excuse me?”

Ryoma was less calm about it. He’d apparently been coming down the hall behind Leo, and unfortunately for the blonde Alpha he’d heard the whole thing. His backpack thunked to the ground behind him. Leo’s eyes widened as Ryoma grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around.

“What makes you think that you can talk to my brother like that?”

“W-Woah, hey hold on-”

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence. Ryoma punched him straight in the mouth. Leo recoiled, then bolted in the opposite direction. His brother tried to run after him, but Takumi grabbed him by the arm.

“Ryoma no!”

“You’re just going to let him disrespect you like that? I know you like him, but come on Takumi!”

“He’s not worth it. You only have one semester left until graduation, do you really want to get suspended or worse?”

That seemed to level his head. He took a deep breath, then picked his backpack up off of the floor.

“Come on. We’d better get home before I change my mind.”

The drive home was a quiet one. As soon as they were home he dropped his backpack in the entryway.

“Hey how was school?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He called over his shoulder and ran up to his room. Mama tried to follow him, but he slammed the door and curled up in bed.

What an asshole! Just when he’d started actually liking Leo, he goes and acts like every other Alpha! Was that all he was to these people? A set of fucking holes? They had so much in common, they’d had so much fun together over the past few months, but all he cared about was getting his knot swallowed? Fuck it, he was never talking to another Alpha ever again. They could all shove it, for what he cared. He’d just die alone.

He’d just resigned himself to wallowing in self-pity when there was a soft knock on the door.

“Not now, Mama.”

She came in anyways and sat down on the end of his bed.

“Ryoma told me what happened. Do you want to talk about it?”

He sat up and let her wrap an arm around his shoulders. He buried his face in her shirt and just let the tears loose.

“I thought he r-really liked me! I’m s-such an idiot!”

“Shh, it’s okay baby. There’ll be other Alphas.”

“They’re all the same! They’re just looking for somewhere to stick their dicks!”

“You’re still young. There’ll be other Alphas. I didn’t meet your father until I was in my twenties.”

“Yeah, but Papa wasn’t awful!”

She let him cry it out, until his chest hurt and his eyes were dry and he was sniffling and hiccuping. It probably took a good three hours, but she didn’t leave his side. She just held him and waited. Only once he’d cried himself dry did she speak up again.

“Why don’t I take you all out for dinner?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Consider it a reward for your good grades?”

“We haven’t even gotten our report cards back.”

“But I know you all did wonderfully. Come on, it’ll be fun. You can have all the miso soup you want!”

“… Alright. Thanks, Mama.”

He blew his nose and washed his face off. His eyes were still a little red and puffy still, but he grabbed his coat anyways.

Everyone else was already ready to go. Ryoma must have filled them in too because Sakura ran over and gave him a hug as soon as he got to the living room.

They almost always went to the same restaurant when they went out for dinner. It was a little Japanese place on the other side of town. Mama liked to go there sometimes because that was where she and Papa met when she used to waitress there. The food was pretty good, and they ran special all-you-can-eat sushi deals so they could get a lot for pretty cheap. Plus, Mama got a discount.

Everyone tried their best to keep it light. He ate about five bowls of miso soup, and by the end of it he was feeling a lot better. He even managed to smile at a few of Hinoka’s dumb jokes.

By the time they were done it was snowing pretty hard outside, and it took them awhile to get home in the blizzard. It was already pitch black outside, but when they pulled up to the house there was someone sitting clearly on their front stoop. He caught a flash of blonde hair as their lights went past, and he heard Ryoma swear from the front seat.

“That bastard!”

Mama pushed him inside the house as soon as they were in the garage. Takumi tried to follow her, but she stopped him.

“Just go talk to him, sweetheart.”

“But Mama–”

“I understand, just ask if he wants a ride home. I’d send your brother to do it but…”

He rolled his eyes and pulled his scarf over his nose. Leo stood up when he saw him come out of the garage. His lip was busted and bloody, and he was shivering but otherwise he seemed fine. He brushed off a fine dusting of snow from his shoulders.

“Takumi I–”

“Don’t.”

“Look, I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, and after I say this I’ll leave if you want me to.”

“Fine. What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Why would you say that to me in the first place?”

“It was just a stupid dare. I was going to apologize afterwards, but your brother kind of decked me and I wanted to avoid being beaten to a bloody pulp.”

He shook his head. “You don’t get it! It isn’t funny! Do you know how many times I’ve had Alphas seriously say that kind of stuff to me?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you would be so hurt by it, I thought it would just be a dumb, harmless joke. There’s no excuse, and all I can do is apologize.”

He was shivering like crazy now, and his cheeks and nose were bright red. He must have been standing out there for awhile if he was in such a shape. He knew Alphas ran a little warmer, but Leo’s coat wasn’t very thick to begin with and he didn’t have a hat, gloves, or scarf.

He let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed the Alpha by the wrist.

“You’re going to freeze to death out here, come on.”

He dragged him into the house. Ryoma was already waiting for them in the foyer.

“What is he doing here?”

“Don’t start, Ryoma.”

Takumi pulled him into his room and swapped Leo’s coat out for one of his thick wool blankets. He tossed his own coat and scarf aside and sat down next to the Alpha on the bed.

“… Thank you.”

“You looked so pathetic out there.”

Leo chuckled. “I must have just missed you, I’ve been waiting for an hour.”

An hour? It must have been ten below out there!

He bumped him with his shoulder. “You’re an idiot. Why didn’t you just text me?”

“Because I felt like an ass, and my father took my phone away when he saw the split lip.”

“Still, it could have waited until tomorrow. You could have frozen to death.”

“But I didn’t.”

“No, I guess you didn’t.”

Leo shivered under the blanket. He pulled one half of the oversized blanket over his shoulder and scooted closer. Leo’s skin was cold to the touch, and now that they were in the light he could see his lips had been turning a bit blue. His blonde hair was dripping as the snow melted off of it, but he rested his head on Leo’s wet shoulder anyways.

“Takumi?”

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask you something, too. I mean, I meant to ask you something after I completed Niles’s stupid dare.”

His heart was beating out of his chest. “What was it?”

“I wanted to know if you would go out with me? I mean, the theater is doing some showings of old documentaries and I thought you might want to go with me… But I understand if you don’t want to, after all of this.”

“Y-You mean like… On a date?”

“Well… Yes, that was the intention?”

He’d been waiting for this for months now. And, in spite of the events of the day he was still ecstatic.

“… Swear you’ll never talk to me like that again?”

“For as long as I live.”

Leo didn’t hesitate in his response. So, neither did he.

“Alright, but you’re on probation. And you’re buying the popcorn to make it up to me.”

“Of course, I am a gentleman after all.”

“A gentleman that asks Omegas to choke on his dick?”

“Not all Omegas, just the ones I like.”

He laughed in spite of himself.

“Well, good luck getting Ryoma to like you after that one.”

“Baby steps, Takumi. Baby steps.”

#Leokumi #fanfiction #Omegaverse #High School AU #Alpha!Leo #Omega!Takumi

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timelordthirteen · 7 years

Text

And Then You

Nicholas Rush/Lacey French, Explicit

Summary: On a forced sabbatical from teaching, Nicholas Rush heads for the tiny town of Storybrooke, Maine, hoping for peace and quiet and the chance to work on his research. What he finds instead is Lacey French. Lacey's in a dead end job as a waitress with a abusive husband when Rush walks into her life. Over the course of his summer sabbatical the two become friends, and eventually lovers. There's more to their relationship than either of them want to admit, but Rush still has the specter of his late wife, Gloria, holding him back, and Lacey's way too good at lying to herself.

Notes: This is for the lovely @anonymousnerdgirl, who prompted a Rushacey Waitress (the movie) AU. I didn't get to put in all the things I wanted, but I hope this still suffices. I am the worst Santa ever, in case you didn't know. I put in some timeline references since most of this story is flashback, but jumps to the present as well. This is only my second time writing Rush, so forgive my horrible characterization. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Posted in three chapters on AO3, but one big pile here. (11,752 words)

[AO3]

Late August

The duffel bag bounces unceremoniously onto the backseat of the rental car, the door shutting after it with a thud. It seems too loud and sharp for so early on a Sunday morning, and the lack of any passersby or any other sounds save for a few chirping birds and the wind has a strange finality to it.

He glances up at the pink Victorian house, with a small smile. Mal’s family home is definitely not his style, but he’d gotten rather comfortable there in such a short time. Crossing to the mailbox, he opens it and drops the keys inside, then turns back to the car and bends to climb into the driver’s seat.

There is no one to see Nicholas Rush off.

There is no one on the street, no other cars, and he doubts anything except Granny’s diner is even open down on Main Street. The house is clean and the few personal items he’d accumulated during his stay are in the trash bin in the kitchen. In a few minutes, it will be as if he’d never been here at all, as if he’d never disturbed the quiet little town of Storybrooke, Maine.

He knows it isn’t entirely true, at least one person is probably forever changed by his presence, and he is quite sure it isn’t for the better. Lacey French is never going to be the same again, not with her husband in jail and a local lawyer drafting divorce papers. Certainly not now that she is essentially homeless either. He made sure to leave his name and address for Midas, slipping a piece of paper under the door of his office before he packed up the car. Paying her legal bills and helping her leave her arsehole husband is the least he can do after upending her life.

Go home, Nick. It was fun, but it was never going to last.

Her words ring in his ears, making his neck burn and his chest ache. None of it was supposed to be permanent, and it’s probably a miracle it lasted more than a couple frenzied, adulterous nights. Inside he’s a jumble mess of feelings he doesn’t want to deal with, and knowing that he’s heading back home to California, having them at all feels like even more of a betrayal. A betrayal of whom though, he isn’t sure anymore. Both Lacey and Gloria have every right to hate him, he is an absolute bastard after all, and it’s a small favor that he’ll never have to look either of them in the eye again.

The discovery he made about his work, about what went wrong with Icarus has made him restless. It’s something that can’t wait, not if there’s a chance to resurrect the project and give it new direction. If the result of the university board’s inquiry is that he’s terminated, then so be it. He will still have a purpose in Icarus, and that’s what he needs now. Purpose and distraction.

Rush sits behind the steering wheel for a long moment, watching the first few drops of rain splatter and trickle down the windshield, before starting the car. The weather mirrors his dark mood. He keeps his eyes on the road, but as he passes the last shop on Main Street and heads out of town, his mind is elsewhere.

Late May

His so called sabbatical is probably just a formality on the way to firing him. While there are moments where he resents Mal for forcing him into it, it’s ultimately his own fucking fault. In hindsight, he hasn’t been handling things well since the abrupt termination of the Icarus project, but telling off the head of the department and then throwing a chair through a window is always a bad career move. He’s lucky Mallory stepped in and offered this chance for some time away, even if it was on the condition that he actually go away.

Once he is out on the road heading north, crossing from Massachusetts into New Hampshire, it starts to feel almost freeing. He doesn’t have to worry about preparing new syllabi or grading exams. There are no meetings, no office hours, and hopefully no distractions. He glances to the side at his satchel, the pile of papers and his laptop stretching the leather to its limit. If he’s very very lucky he might make headway on something, publish a paper in the spring, and be somewhat redeemed. At least academically. There are things he carries which cannot be forgiven.

The tall, dense trees loom over the sides of the road and cast strange shadows. It reminds him of the drive he and Gloria took up the coast to Washington one summer. It was the first trip they’d taken in years, and later would turn out to be their last. He hated everything about traveling in general, but something about his wife’s bright smile and her hair shining in the sunlight made it more than worthwhile.

A sign up ahead announces another S curve, and Rush squints. The setting sun piercing the windshield of his rental car as he rounds the first corner, hitting him right in the eyes. His head is starting to hurt, though he supposes that’s more from the hours of flying, driving, and lack of caffeine than the glare of the sun. He glances at the clock on the dashboard and sighs. It’s just after eight and he’s already knackered, but his destination is only a few more miles away.

Another green road sign welcomes him to the town of Storybrooke, and he slows the car as the highway gives way to a quaint, traditional Main Street, lined with storefronts. Ahead on the right is a glowing red sign that says Granny’s Diner, with an arrow pointing towards a light gray building. Diners always have coffee, and even bad coffee sounds like the best thing in the world right now.

The place is empty when he walks in and the interior looks like something right out of the 1950s, complete with a chrome soda fountain behind the counter. The white formica tables have a slight sparkle and the vinyl booths shine red in the bright fluorescent light. A woman comes out between two swinging doors with a stack of plates in her hands. Her uniform is comprised of a white button down shirt that’s tied off instead of tucked in, showing off her navel, and the shortest red shorts he’s ever seen. He can’t see her feet but the clicking against the tile floor suggests heels. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, the mass of brunette curls swaying as she walks along behind the counter.

Rush blinks. The whole thing is surreal. If it wasn’t for the scandalously short skirt, he would think he’s gone back in time.

The woman sets the plates down and shivers, her whole body shaking as she rubs her hands up and down her arms. “Hey there, welcome to Granny’s,” she says, stepping up to the counter. “Can I get you something?”

“Coffee?” he replies, his eyes widening as they meet hers. They’re very blue but tinged red at the edges with dark circles underneath. She looks like she’s been tired for a long time, a feeling Rush knows all too well.

“Sure thing.” She’s already turning around to the set of tall metal coffee urns behind her. A few seconds later she facing him again and setting down a plain white mug. “Milk, cream, sugar?”

She nudges a small dish of sugar and sweetener packets towards him. Next to them is a collection of half and half cups mixed with some kind of flavored creamer.

Rush glances up at her as he moves to sit on the nearest stool. “Nothing, thank you.”

He blows over the rim and takes a small, quick sip, biting back a groan at the sensation of the hot coffee gliding down his throat. It’s actually really good coffee, and he’s very thankful because there’s probably not a real barista for fifty miles.

A little while later, after she serves a few more late evening customers, workers from the local mine he overhears, she comes back to offer him a refill. He nods and doesn’t look up from the calculations he’s been using to distract himself from watching her walk around the place. The sway of her hips was becoming entirely too mesmerizing, and he’s not sure why. He chalks it up to feeling out of his element, and being so far away from home and anything remotely fucking familiar. His brain needs to focus on something, so it picked her. That’s all.

He notices her name tag says Lacey, which ends up drawing his attention to her chest. He lifts the mug and takes a small, cautious sip, trying to avoid any further realization about just how small her white blouse is and how few buttons are holding it closed. He can feel his face flush a bit, but silently insists it's the scalding hot coffee and not the fact that he’s actually noticing a woman for the first time in - well, a very long time, anyway.

Rush sighs and sits back, his spine pulling and popping in three different places as he stretches. He’s supposed to pick up the key to Mal’s place from a woman named Martha Lucas, but he was too tired to track down an old woman right now. His headache has mostly abated, but it’s left a lingering stiffness behind in his neck and shoulders. Caffeine had not been the answer. “Is there a place to stay the night?”

“Sure,” Lacey says, flatly. She jabs a thumb to the side as she straightens. “Right next door is Granny’s inn.”

“How convenient,” he mutters, flipping his notebook closed. He slides off the stool and pulls out his wallet, tossing a few bills on the counter. He’s sure that’s more than enough to cover his two cups of coffee, and he supposes that young women stuck in small towns, working at diners after nine o’clock at night should get decent tips. “Thank you for the coffee.”

Lacey snatches up the money, moving to the register to close his tab. She peels off the singles and tucks them in the pocket of her apron. “Yeah,” she says, giving him a small, tired wave. “See you around stranger.”

It’s three days before he sees her again, and by that time he’s already mostly settled into a pink Victorian that’s entirely too big for one person.

“Black, just like your soul?” she quips, the corner of her mouth curving as she sets a mug on the counter.

Rush picks it up, smirking. “Aye.”

Lacey leans forward on her elbows and watches as he scribbles some annotations in his little notebook.

“What’s that?” she asks, stretching her torso over the counter.

Rush looks to the side, spying her through a curtain of his shaggy hair. She’s wearing a wedding ring and he can’t recall if he noticed that first night or not. He pauses with the tip of his pencil touching the paper poised to draw another integral sign. “Math,” he says shortly.

She snorts and shakes her head. “Yeah, I can see that. Thanks, Einstein.”

She moves down the line to another customer, and he resumes working his way through his notes with a slight smile on his face.

The next day when he sees her there are marks on her right arm and a spot above her eye that appears swollen. His eyes keep darting to the ring on her finger, a small, round diamond solitaire with a plain band behind it, and he wonders what kind of arsehole she’s been saddled with and if that’s the reason why she hasn’t said more than four words to him.

Rush isn’t an idiot. He may not care for people in general, but he has no tolerance for men who would abuse a woman or a child. But he also knows it’s not his place.

He’s counting out money to leave on the table for her, when a man comes in. Lacey goes to him immediately, and though their voices are hushed, he can see they’re arguing. The man grabs her arm roughly, and Rush watches, digging his nails into his palm as he stares daggers at the back of the man’s head. Lacey catches his eye as he goes to leave, and he pauses with the door half open for a moment before stepping out into the summer heat.

The look in her eyes keeps him from falling asleep that night.

Early June

Granny’s becomes something of a routine for Rush. He’s been in Storybrooke for three weeks, and for most of it he’s kept to himself. There was a point last week where he was hit with another headache, and he realized that he’d been living off coffee and cigarettes for three days. He figured coming to the diner for lunch would ensure he ate at least one real meal a day, but staying until Lacey’s shift ends at three has become an inexplicable habit.

It’s not as if he gets a lot of work done, or that he likes to be around people. It just feels better being here than hanging out in a massive, old house all by himself. He thought it would be ideal, at first, but the place has started to feel oppressive and the strange creaks and noises keep distracting him. From the corner booth at Granny’s he can work on parts of his research, keep up a steady stream of very palatable coffee, and occasionally people watch.

Mostly, he just watches Lacey.

The man, who he assumes was her husband, hasn’t appeared again, and it seems that she’s just moved on as though nothing happened. Eventually the bruises fade, but her ring remains.

She likes to sit across from him sometimes, on her break just after lunch. She talks about nothing in particular, the weather, movies, or the small town rumormill. He chimes in now and then, if she pauses to pop another onion ring in her mouth, or if something completely ridiculous. Yesterday she went on about the purple elephant shitting on his car until he stopped and looked up. He knows she does it on purpose to see if he’s paying attention. If he ever says something incongruent she never mentions it, and the whole thing is strangely comfortable.

“So where’s your wife?” Lacey asks on a rainy Thursday.

Rush stops with his pencil halfway through drawing a sigma symbol. The tip breaks under the slight pressure and he swears. Her fork clatters to the plate, and he lets his head drop as he takes a steadying breath.

“She’s gone,” he manages.

He hopes she knows what that means, hopes it’s enough for her to drop it and never bring it up again. He imagines this is what she might feel like too. There’s a fresh bruise on her thigh, just at the edge of her skirt.

She doesn’t meet his eyes. “Oh.”

Mid-June

The Rabbit Hole is Storybrooke’s only bar.

Rush blinks and rubs his eyes as he steps inside. There’s a haze to the air in the place and a tinge of something burnt, despite there being no smoking allowed.

He has no idea why he’s here. He could just as easily buy a bottle of something passable at Clark’s drugstore or the grocer. It wouldn’t be the fine whiskey that Mal keeps in her office, or the expensive wine that still fills the nook in his kitchen at home, bottles that Gloria bought ages ago. But it would definitely get him drunk.

He spies Lacey bending over a pool table at the far end of the room. Her blue blouse gapes open as she lines up her shot, and a dribble of condensation runs over his thumb and drips to the floor. He watches her clear the table in ten minutes, her opponent never getting a chance to even touch the cue chalk. She laughs and looks around at the small crowd that’s gathered, then saunters to a nearby table to down a shot of something.

Lacey takes the money from Keith, making a point to snatch it from his fingers and count it in front of him. His glare is really all the payment she needs, but the extra cash is good for her emergency fund. She's got a decent amount in there now, but she knows leaving won't be easy. When she turns to head back to the bar, she spies Rush across the room. His eyes are fixed on her, and the corner of his mouth is curved slightly.

She licks her lips and gives him a wave, which he returns, surprisingly. He’s so hard to read sometimes that she can’t tell if he actually likes her, or if she could just as well be Leroy sitting there nattering on about whatever. There have been moments where she wondered, where she thought too long about his eyes, his hair, his mouth. There have been nights too, recently, but she isn’t ready to acknowledge that just yet, not even to herself.

They meet at the bar, and he smiles. “That was quite a show.”

“Thanks,” she says, feeling oddly elated that he was there to see the whole thing. “Not that Keith’s much competition, but he has a problem with his mouth writing checks the rest of him can’t begin to cash and I’m happy to teach him as many lessons as he’d like.”

Rush laughs. “What are you drinking?”

“Whiskey,” Lacey answers, and she realizes in the month he’s been here she’s never heard him laugh before.

He orders their drinks and they move to one of the tables against the wall. It’s a spot she likes because she can see most of the room and still be in the shadows. He’s talking about something, something about a friend and a billiards tournament in college, but her gaze is lingering on the open buttons of his shirt, distracting her. His voice is nice though, even if she only catches every third word, his accent thicker than usual. It might be the alcohol or he might just not care anymore if he sounds ridiculously Scottish.

She kisses him first.

He seems surprised when she pulls him against her in the short hallway leading to the men’s room. His hand fists in her hair as he presses her into the wall next to a poster for the library fundraiser. The floor’s dirty, the wall’s dirty, everything about this is dirty, but she likes it, likes how hard and wet his mouth is and the scrape of his teeth over her neck.

The vague sound of billiard balls clattering and the strained tones of Springsteen mix with the low rumbling of his voice in her ear, asking if she's sure she wants this. She hisses a yes against the skin of his throat, loving the way he gasps as she teases it with her tongue.

“Your place?” she asks, and the question lingers between them like their hot, panting breath.

He swallows, and knows this is it, one of those moments he can’t take back. “Yeah.”

He moves first, running a hand through his hair as he steps out of the shadows and walking over to the bar to close out their tab. She counts a full minute and then follows, striding quickly to the table where she left her purse.

Rush leaves the Rabbit Hole, his stomach in a knot. It was one thing to kiss her in the dark, in the back hallway of a bar, where they can both pretend that maybe it was just the alcohol. It’s entirely another to agree to take her back to his place. They’re both - well, he’s not married, not anymore, even if he sometimes feels like he is. But she definitely is, to a man who clearly mistreats her. Later he’ll wonder if that was it the whole time, if she latched on to him to get her out of a bad situation.

He’ll be wrong, of course.

She comes out a few minutes later, and they take his rental to the stately, pink house. The drive is quiet, but her hand doesn’t leave his thigh, the motion of her thumb burning through his jeans and making him half hard by the time they get there.

Rush shoves her against the wall inside the door, kissing her until she's practically climbing him, wrapping her legs around his waist while she claws at his shirt. They make it to the bedroom mostly clothed. Their shirts are lost somewhere between the top of the stairs and here, and they spend a few anxious, wordless minutes dispensing with the rest. She sits on the edge of the bed, watching him push his jeans down, and then his boxers, licking her lips at the sight of his cock. He steps forward to stand between her open legs and she looks up at him, waiting.

His hand cups her cheek, thumb brushing her lips before he says. “Turn around.”

Lacey nips at the pad of his thumb and grins, then scoots back on the bed, turning over until she’s on all fours.

The tip of his cock pushes inside her and she wiggles her ass, begging for more with her forearms digging into the mattress. Rush groans and slips inside her in one smooth stroke. She gasps, and he presses his palm flat against her back, pushing her forward a little bit more so he can go even deeper.

She’s wet and sticky and tight, much too tight, and he can feel her stretch around him, little squeaks and gasps falling from her mouth when he starts to move. It’s slow and steady at first, but then she’s moving too, faster and harder, slamming her ass into his hips, showing him how she needs it, and Rush is happy to oblige. He needs it this way too, needs it to be rough and angry, nothing like it should be, or that she deserves. It has to be different so he can lock it away and keep it separate from how it was before.

Lacey bites her lip and digs at the sheets. Her ring feels tight on her finger, heavy, and she can’t look at it. She’ll be raw and sore in the morning, but then she’ll remember how he feels right now, touch herself and ache for him all over again.

His fingers are biting into her skin, holding on as tight as he can while they move at an almost violent pace. There will be bruises, on both of them tomorrow, evidence that this happened, that it was real. But they’ll fade, as these things do.

He leans over her; reaches around to rub her clit until she cries out and clenches around him. The sensation makes him come too, whispering sweetheart over and over against her sweaty skin.

It’s the first time he calls her that.

Early September

Lacey sighs and leans over the table to grab an errant fork, dropping it into the plastic bin with the other dishes. Then she frowns and folds her rag over the end of a finger to scrub angrily at a crusted splatter of ketchup that’s probably been there since last night. Ruby’s always a little sloppy with the last clean up when it’s near closing time. With a quiet grunt, she hefts the bin onto her hip and strides around the counter to head back to the kitchen.

The lunch rush is over and she has time to think again, time to replay things in her mind and wish the outcome were different. She sets the bin down in the big sink and squeezes the rag in her hand. Her nails dig it, squishing dirty water over her wrist before throwing it down on top of the dirty dishes. With another sigh, she turns on the water and washes her hands. Most of the bruises are gone, and in another month or so this chapter of her life will be behind her.

She’s not sure what she’s going to do after that, where she goes from failed marriage in a dead end town. There was a moment when she thought she knew, when she was laying in a soft bed with the sunlight streaming in through the sheer curtains, his burr in her ear, soft and low as she orgasmed. But now -

Lacey huffs and pushes through the doors back into the dining room. Rush has been gone almost a month. He left her, and there’s nothing she can do about it, no matter how much it frustrates her. It’s not like she didn’t encourage him though. He showed up at her apartment, trying to apologize, and she didn’t want to listen. It had seemed so clear then, that it was all a sham, a way to pass the summer and fuck up her shitty life. Of course he was always going to leave, of course she’d always be stuck here. It had felt like anything else might unbalance the whole fucking universe or something.

She’s wiping down the counters and tables when she finds it. She had missed a couple dollars on one of the tables, left by Mr. Clark who owns the drug store. Her hand slid into the front pocket of her apron and there it was. The creases are worn from being opened and refolded a few times, and the paper has lost most of its crispness leaving it slightly yellowed and soft. She swallows and unfolds it carefully, laying it on the table and smoothing it flat with her palms. Her eyes close for a moment and she can’t help the smile as a memory comes flooding back.

Early July

Rush tears a sheet off her order pad and flips it over, his pencil moving quickly over it, letters and numbers and symbols. She understands little of it. His shirt is the same one he wore yesterday, and he looks like he hasn’t slept much.

“What are you doing?” she asks as he nears the bottom of the small piece of paper.

He sighs and frowns. “I thought I had something, but -”

“But?”

He crumples the page in his hand and makes a frustrated noise. Then he throws it towards the tray of coffee mugs. It bounces off the edge and lands in one of them, but he doesn’t notice.

“Nice shot,” she mutters. Then she fishes out the paper and unravels it, smoothing it against the counter.

Rush is nattering on about gravity fluctuations, and she has no idea what that has to do with his foul mood, but he’d been this way for the past week. They haven’t said anything about what is happening between them, and she’s not even sure what could be said. They meet up at the Rabbit Hole, they have a drink or two, they go back to his place and fuck. It’s simple.

They don’t call it what it is, an affair. Adultery. Cheating on a memory.

She looks down at the wrinkled paper and tilts her head. “Did you lose a y somewhere?”

Rush lifts his head and blinks. “What?”

Lacey pushes the paper towards him. “Look advanced calculus is obviously not my thing, but I did set the curve in my algebra class, and, well, you had a y here and then you just like lost it?”

He stares at the paper for a moment and then shakes his head. “Fuck,” he mutters as he leans back against the booth. “I’m a fucking idiot!”

His outburst draws a few stares, but luckily at two in the afternoon there’s hardly anyone around.

She shrugs. “You’re tired. You need to take a break.”

Rush rubs his eyes and then runs a hand down his face. His cheeks feel scruffier than usual, and he probably needs a shower, but he was on a roll last night and success has been hard to come by lately.

“Yeah,” he sighs. Then he scowls down at the paper and makes a note with his pencil. “You’re right though. I just lost the variable all together like some first year moron.”

Lacey laughs. “Well, I’ll try not to let it go to my head that I found a mistake in the great Dr. Nicholas Rush’s work.”

Rush gives her a look, and then glances around before reaching his hand across the table to touch hers. She turns her hand over and slides her fingers through his, giving him a squeeze before pulling away.

“Did you ever think about going to school?” he asks tentatively. He knows that she’s smarter than she lets on most of the time, keeping her wit to cutting sarcasm and billiards. She’s capable of so much more than this, and he hates to see good minds wasted.

She huffs and purses her lips, picking at the chipped blue polish on her nails. “I did,” she admits, “but, you know, school costs money.”

“I do know,” he says. It’s not like he could have afforded it either. “But there are scholarships. You’re smart, Lace, you could -”

“I did,” she interrupts. “I, um, I had a scholarship.”

Rush sits forward. “For what? Why didn't you go?”

“It was for dance.” She keeps her eyes on the table as she says it, glancing at him only briefly to see his reaction. His head tilts slightly, his brow knit. “I thought maybe - I don’t know.”

“Thought what?”

His voice is soft, and she bites her lip. When he sounds like that she wants to tell him everything.

“I thought I wanted to do something artistic,” she explains. “Like fashion or design. But the dancing, the performing, to keep my scholarship? It was all just too much. I didn’t love it anymore once it felt like a job, you know?” He was still looking at her, his dark eyes piercing through her, like he saw so much more than she wanted him to.

She rolls her eyes. “Besides, the world doesn’t need another art or music major, right?”

“Nonsense.” Rush frowns. “Everything has value. Every occupation. Not always in the same situations, you wouldn’t want a writer trying to redo your plumbing, but that doesn’t make what the writer writes worthless. And I happen to know there is a great deal of skill in dance, just like there is with music. Timing, counting. Harmonics as well. It’s all math, right?”

Lacey’s eyes are bright and there’s a lump in her throat blocking the words she wants to say. He shrugs, and she can’t help herself. She slides out of the booth and comes around to his side, pushing him towards the wall so she can sit. He’s staring back at her, wide eyed and surprised.

She kisses him and it’s different. The few times before has been hard, rough, all teeth and tongues and pushing each other against walls. This is soft and full of - something. Her mouth catches his bottom lip, pulling gently, her tongue brushes it once and then it’s gone. She’s gone. His eyes open and he is alone, the door behind the counter swinging back and forth on its hinges.

Early September

The paper crumples under Lacey’s hand, her nails digging in and tearing the middle. She doesn’t stop until it’s shredded all the way down, and then she balls it up in her hands, angrily squeezing it against her palm.

She throws it towards the trash can by the register, and misses.

“Fuck,” she breathes, leaning forward on the counter. Her breath is suddenly ragged, her heart slamming in her chest and grabs for the stack of napkins, wrinkling them as well and throwing them in the trash.

“Fucking fuck him!”

Granny ducks her head out through the order window. “You okay, Lacey?”

Lacey sighs and her shoulders sag. Granny’s face is nothing but kind concern, and for some reason that stings. She doesn’t want to feel this way about Rush at all. She doesn’t want to care, and she doesn’t want pity for it either.

A tear slips from the corner of her her but she wipes it away. “Fine,” she says, turning to Granny and forcing a smile. “I’m fine.”

The old woman doesn’t look convinced, giving Lacey a small frown before she goes. Lacey sinks down to the floor and buries her face in her hands. There’s no one in the diner right now and if she pops up unexpectedly she’s sure she can play it off. Plenty of people in this town already have a low opinion of her anyway. Who cares if they think she was sitting on the floor crying.

Just like that the front door opens and she hears Leroy and Mike chatting as they come in from their swing shift at the mine. She smoothes her hair back and rubs her eyes. No one said anything about bruises on her arms and face for the last two years, what’s a little red eye?

Later, as she’s ringing up Leroy’s bill, her foot kicks the balled up paper sending it bouncing across the floor. Leroy frowns, then bends and picks it up.

Lacey’s left hand clenches into a fist while she holds out his change with the other.

What’s this?” he says unfolding the paper. It’s torn in several places and almost as wrinkled as his shirt, but it’s readable. He blows out a low whistle. “Damn, sister. This looks complicated.”

She lets out a short, humorless laugh. “That’s an understatement.”

Mid July

“So, you’re married,” Rush says.

Finally, she thinks, giving her ring a cursory glance. Most days she doesn’t even notice it. Putting it on in the morning is habit. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just continues to work the numbers across the page. He’s got a bigger notebook now, three subject, having filled up and ruined the smaller one.

“And I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s a fucking asshole.” She twirls the straw in her glass of iced tea, watching the liquid swirl around in a little whirlpool.

Rush makes a half laugh, half grunting noise. “Then why are you with him?”

She sighs and sits back. “Same reason most women are, I suppose. He used to be sweet, I thought he was the one. Plus he owns our apartment and once my dad found out I wasn’t a pure little virgin perfect daughter anymore, he kicked me out. So I stayed with Garrett and just - never left I guess. He’s out of town a lot for work so it’s been easy to do whatever I want without him knowing. Neither of us have any friends in this town.”

He frowns. She knows as well as he does that none of those are good enough reasons, but he can see how a lot of people in Storybrooke just pass her over, look at her without really seeing. There’s a bruise by her eye again and he wonders how many of them have even noticed it.

“I’ve got a stash though,” Lacey says quietly. “I'm - I’m going to leave.”

Rush lifts his head and sets down his pencil. She’s staring at him, and he swallows. There’s an unspoken question between them.

She gasps when her back hits the wall just inside her apartment door.

It’s the first time she’s brought Rush or anyone other than Ruby here. It’s small but cozy, and she cleaned it that morning. Garrett’s in Florida for the week, and she wonders why she hasn’t done this before, why she hasn’t brought another lover home and fucked them in their bed. It feels like the ultimate fuck you, and she smiles.

Rush’s hands are in her hair, fingers curling in the strands and pulling just a little, and his body is pressed flush against hers. His lips drag over hers, open and hot, teasing a little before he kisses her properly, and she moans into his mouth, the lingering taste of coffee rolling over her tongue. When he pulls back, his teeth catch her bottom lip, scraping lightly, and he must like whatever noise she makes because he’s smirking down at her.

She raises an eyebrow. “So is this some like student teacher thing?” she asks, grinning. Her hips lift off the wall to push against his and she can feel his erection heavy against her thigh.

He laughs, low and a little dark. “You’ve never been my student,” he replies.

His hand moves to her thigh, lifting it until her leg is almost wrapped around his waist, and then he pushes hard, grinding the seam of his jeans against her and making her gasp with the friction.

“But I could be,” she says, smiling, her fingers pulling at his shirt. “I think I’d fucking kill it at physics.”

Rush presses a kiss to her cheek, then her jaw. “I’m sure you would.” He means it.

“Would you like that?” she asks, undoing the last button and running her hands up his bare chest. “Me sitting in the front row of your class every day? Short skirts, no panties?”

He groans and laughs at the thought because he knows what sweet torture that would be. “I do have some self control, you know.”

It’s her turn to laugh because they both know it’s a lie.

She remembers the last time at his place, just a couple of nights ago. She loved the sound he made when his cock slid in her mouth for the first time, the living room rug biting at her knees when she pushed herself forward. He swore when the tip hit the back of her throat, and she came hard to the movement of her own fingers when he pulled her hair.

Neither of them have any self control when it comes to each other and this. And that should scare the hell out of her.

He presses against her again and she bites her lip, letting out only the tiniest of gasps before he lets her leg drop. Then his hand is yanking the zipper on the side of her skirt down, and she sighs as he steps back, the cool air of the room hitting her fevered skin. He kneels, pulling down the red skirt and her panties with him, until she’s bare and her clothes are tossed over by her couch. He stops a moment, palms rubbing over her thighs, easing them apart as his thumbs touch the sticky wetness clinging to her folds.

They haven’t moved from the door yet, but he’s on his knees between her legs, tongue sliding over her clit. Her hand fists in his hair, her back arches, and she wonders what she tastes like to him that he likes doing this so much. He hums against her cunt, the vibrations shuddering over her sensitive skin as his tongue curls into her briefly, darting in and out a few times just to drive her mad with want. It makes her want him inside her again, spreading her open and seeing how deep he can go, but then there are his fingers, two of them, pushing into her.

Her hips roll against his mouth and hand, and he sucks on her clit, slipping a third finger inside, wanting to make her come. He loves that he can do this to her, and that she lets him, that all it takes is a lingering look for them to know what comes next.

Her hand tugs at his hair and he knows she’s close, slows his fingers and pulls his mouth away, licking the tangy sweetness of her off his lips.

“Fuck, Lacey, I love how you taste,” he says, working his fingers deep into her. “Love how wet you get for me.”

She cries out in frustration, loving and hating it when he keeps her on edge like this.

“Are you like this for him?” he wonders out loud.

It’s been bothering him all these weeks. If she’s seeking him out because her abusive arse of a husband can’t or won’t satisfy her, because she has no other options, or if there’s something more. He can’t decide which he’d rather it be, but there’s a tight, sick feeling in his gut that maybe this means nothing to her, even as he tells himself it’s nothing to him.

She bites her lip and wants to resist answering, doesn’t want him to know how badly she needs him, how no one else has ever made her this crazy. “No,” she gasps, “for you.”

He grins against her thigh and his hand speeds up again, thumb rubbing her clit until she comes. He laps at the moisture spread on the inside of her thighs, and then stands, offering her his fingers. She moans around them as she sucks them into her mouth, her hands already working at his belt.

Early September

Rush sighs and picks at the frayed patch of denim on his knee. He’s been replaying every conversation, every moment with Lacey in his mind since he got back to California. It's like a humming in his head, drowning out the gentle sounds of the breeze and the rustling leaves in the garden. He can tell it had taken a lot of courage for her to even ask, and he was a bit surprised it hadn’t already come up in all his time in Storybrooke. Of course he’d done the stupidest thing imaginable, the worst possible fucking thing he could have done because he was, basically, an arsehole who fucked up everything that wasn’t math.

Well, he fucked that up too sometimes, but this was worse.

Something had struck him in that moment, and it was like every word he ever knew, including all the curse words he so readily flung at his walls of calculations, fled his mind. He’d stammered and waved his hands, paced back and forth behind her sofa, and then he’d just - left. Like a coward. He went back the next day to try apologize, but she told him exactly what he needed to hear. It meant nothing. It wasn't going to last. So he packed everything up and left Storybrooke.

Now he's sitting on the back steps of the house he’d shared with Gloria for over a decade, staring out at the garden like he has almost every night since he arrived home. She had designed and taken care of it since shortly after they moved in, up until she’d been confined to the hospital. He's been paying a sizable monthly fee to a landscaping company to maintain it like some kind of memorial to the past. His head feels fuzzy, his mind unable to focus on anything but the scent of roses wafting on the breeze.

It’s been four years since Gloria died. Four years in which he’s gone from the depths of grief and depression, to nearly losing his job, to meeting Lacey and feeling like he was finally himself again. Maybe better. Maybe he’s actually come out of the other side of the worst day of his life a better person. Somehow. Or maybe he’d just finally given enough of a shit to try.

Rush snorts and kicked a smooth oval rock off the bottom step. It skitters across the paving stones and lands in the grass. He sighs again.

“Will you tell me about her?”

How are you supposed to describe the person you thought was your soulmate? How do you explain that they understood you better than you did yourself? How do you talk about the destruction they left behind by their leaving, the shards scattered around that used to be you?

And how the hell do you tell that to the person who wasn’t afraid to approach you, who accepted all your rough, angry edges, and who put you back together piece by piece without even knowing that’s what they were doing?

Some people live their whole lives and never find what we had.

He can hear Gloria’s voice like it was five minutes ago, like he’d just walked out of that hellish hospital room. He sniffs and swallows, swearing that he can still smell that noxious sterile scent. It smelled like people waiting to die, like hopelessness and loss.

Rush takes a deep breath and closed his eyes. Nothing about this summer was normal, and now he’s just supposed to go back to work on Monday, back to class and teaching and research. Back to his life, such as it is. He has to present his new findings on Icarus in a week, and he should be in his office going over every calculation for the tenth time. But he’s here, staring at some plants and trying to sort out his fucking life.

“She was -,” he says out loud. Then he frowns and looks around into the small yard thoughtfully. A crow cocks its head at him and then flies off. He sighs again. “She was a force.”

Rush smiles.

Yes, that was the best way to describe Gloria. They had enough similarities that they got on well, but to most they looked like complete opposites. He was - is - always a barely approachable misanthrope, while she was polite and thoughtful. They were both intense when it came to their work and very focused, but where he knows he can be too single minded when he gets into something, Gloria was more steady and even. She could obsess, certainly, but it was metered out over days and weeks of practice and contemplation instead of 36 hour binges with too much caffeine and no sleep.

Gloria was beautiful, smart, and funny. She was light and happiness in his otherwise dark, mundane world. The house still feels empty without her. It has become a place he existed, occasionally, and slept, sometimes. The couch in his office at the university probably gave him more good hours than his expensive memory foam mattress here. The house is just here, just a remnant, a memory best left in its fucking box.

The time he’d spent in that pink Victorian had started to feel comfortable. It was strange how in just four months he’d gotten so used to the trees and the clean air and the warm glow when the sun hit the windows in the study. If he closes his eyes he can see Lacey there on the sofa while he worked, her nose in a book, or sitting across from him at the diner, smirking about some joke she’d made at his expense and stealing fries off his plate. With Lacey everything had felt lighter and more vibrant again.

With Lacey, he felt - alive.

Just thinking about Gloria weighs him down and leaves a hollow ache in his chest. He’d gone to the cemetery yesterday morning after not having been there since the day of her funeral. He’d taken flowers and stood there staring at the headstone, not really knowing why. It seemed like the thing people did when they lost the love of their life, but it was an empty gesture. The walk back to the house was long and by the time he made it in the door his whole body hurt from trying hold in his tears.

The worst part is all he can think about was Lacey and how he’d left things. How he’d just plain left. She’d reached out to him, tried to understand him and the burdens he carried, and he’d just fucked off back to California, to the university and a job that his heart wasn’t in anymore. He rubs the back of his neck and tries not to think about that first time, how he’d pushed her against the wall, her smell, and the feeling of her legs wrapping around his waist.

The pain only seemed to dull when he was with Lacey. He had let the empty places full up for a while with her bright eyes, her laugh, and that endearing way she would bite her lip when she was thinking. She probably hates him, but he needs to talk to her, to explain if he can. He owes the truth to her, just as he’d owed it to Gloria when she lay there hooked up to so many machines. He hadn’t been brave enough to face things then, not really. Now maybe he can keep his shit together long enough to say what needs to be said.

Rush exhales and stands up, pulling open the back screen door and stepping inside. It snaps closed and he pushes the inside door shut as well, turning the deadbolt. He has come to some sort of conclusion sitting on the steps, like working back through the lines of an equation to find an error, and now he needs to get back to Lacey as soon as possible. It will mean flying across the country again, and driving up those winding roads to Storybrooke. It’s madness, but he has to try, he has to make things right. If she’ll let him.

Two Days Later

Lacey slumps against the couch and angrily jabs her thumb at the channel button on the remote. The paper she’d found in her apron pocket a couple weeks back is sitting on her coffee table next to a letter from her lawyer. A lawyer Nicholas Rush is apparently paying for. She pawned her ring yesterday for a lousy 500 bucks, and she has to be out of the apartment in a week. All part of the requirements for a quick divorce and a restraining order, but she has a voicemail from Mallory Vincent that a certain pink house is available if she needs it. Rush is responsible for that to, she assumes.

Fuck him, she thinks.

She sniffles and then swears, pushing up off the couch. She moves towards the kitchen to refill her wine glass, but stops when she hears a knock at her door. It comes again when she failed to move, but she stands there, staring.

“Lacey?” comes Rush’s voice.

She nearly drops her glass. She never thought she’d hear that sound again, and her feet take one, unconscious step towards the door before she stops. She closes her eyes and turns away.

No.

“Lacey!” he calls out again, thumping his fist against the door three more times. “Please open the door.”

She swallows and turns back, crossing the space and putting her hand on the deadbolt before she knows what she’s doing. Her forehead leans against the wall beside the door, but her hand doesn’t move. When he knocks again, she can feel the thudding vibrate through her palm.

“C’mon, Lace!” he pleads.

Then his voice drops. It was still louder than normal, but only so she could hear him through the door, like he knows she’s standing there undecided about opening it.

“I want to tell you about Gloria.”

His voice breaks a bit on her name, and Lacey feels her chest tighten again. She knows how hard it is to open up about these things. Sometimes she can barely say her mother’s name without wanting to cry, which is pretty unfortunate considering the new girl at the diner is named Collette.

“She was beautiful, and smart, and amazing,” he continues. “And I loved her, very much.”

Lacey squeezes her eyes shut, refusing to cy. She wants to scream at him to shut up and go home. It’s okay that he still loves his dead wife, she just doesn’t want to hear about it. She wishes Garrett was dead, that he was her great lost love so she can understand half of what Rush must feel. That might make it better, she thinks, it might make it hurt less.

She’s always been excellent at lying to herself.

“But she’s not you, Lacey,” Rush says, hoping his voice is making it through the gap in the door.

Hoping that the shadow he saw a few seconds ago is really Lacey and not the curtains fluttering or a trick of the light, hopes he isn’t talking to an empty room like a fucking idiot. Then there is a sharp click, and he steps back. The door swings open partway and Lacey moves into the space, looking like she’s barely holding things together.

Rush feels like shit. He wonders if he should have come at all and opened wounds that hadn’t even healed yet. “Hey.”

Lacey wraps her arms around herself, her hands pulling back into the oversized sweatshirt. “Hey.”

Rush looks her up and down. She looks so small and fragile, and all he wants is to hold her. “Can I come in?”

Against her better judgement, she nods and steps aside, and Rush follows after her, shutting the door behind him. She takes a seat at one end of the sofa and clicks off the TV before tossing the remote on the coffee table.

“So,” she snaps, “you’re in.”

Rush rubs his palms against his jeans, unsure if he is welcome to sit closer to her or not. He opts for the middle cushion, halfway between the other end of the sofa and her legs.

“Look, I’m a fucking asshole -”

Lacey snorts. “Yeah, that’s a word for it.”

His lips quirk and he nods. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry, alright? I should have brought it up sooner, but it’s -” He waves a hand and then ran it through his hair, falling back against the sofa.

“Hard,” she sighs, fiddling with the cuff of her shirt. He looks good in his white shirt and dark jeans, and that annoys her. “I know.” Then she shrugs and met his eyes. “My mom.”

He nods again. “Gloria was a force in my life. Like gravity. Steady, inevitable -,” he pause and huffs. “And fucking complicated.”

Lacey gives a short laugh and then wipes at her eyes. “I’m sure she was great.”

Rush smiles. “Yeah. But she’s not here anymore, and I - I didn’t even realize I’d come to terms with that until I left. I went home and - “ He shrugs. “It wasn’t right. It didn’t feel like it used to.”

He reaches out, hesitantly, and puts his hand over hers. After a few seconds, Lacey looks up and turns her hand over, letting him thread his fingers through hers.

“What did it feel like?” she asks.

Rush swallows hard and closes his eyes as his vision blurs. He feels himself squeeze Lacey’s hand and hers squeeze back. It grounds him in the moment and the lump in his throat eases.

“Nick?”

He opens his eyes and shakes his head. “Like a house,” he says simply. “Just - a house.” Lacey frowns at him. “I always used to think of it as home, our home. Mine and Gloria’s. Maybe even more hers than mine sometimes, but - it’s gone. She’s gone.”

Lacey squeezes his hand again. “It’s okay, Nick. I know you love her, and I’m - I’m not -”

“No,” he snaps, shifting abruptly so he is facing her, his leg pulled up on the cushion between them. “No it’s - it’s not that,” he tries to explain, his hands clenching and opening in the air between them as he fights to keep them and himself still. It won’t do to start pacing and waving his hands now.

He shuts his eyes and takes a breath, opening them again as he exhales between his lips. “I mean, yes, I love her, but - she’s not you.”

She feels like she’s sinking into the couch, like her very existence is unraveling because nothing matters. Next to the specter of Gloria she is nothing, she is not enough. Her bottom lip trembles and no sooner does she open her mouth to speak than Rush’s lips are on hers. He kisses her firmly, his hands cupping her face, and his lips opening just enough to catch hers. She feels the very tip of his tongue and shudders. When he pulls back his eyes are dark and wild, and she’s pretty sure she’s stopped breathing.

“And you’re not her,” he adds. “And you don’t have to be, so put that out of your head.”

Lacey scoffs. “Yeah, I’m not fucking gravity or whatever.”

Rush shakes his head again. “No, you’re - “ he pauses, his eyes staring into hers, like he wants to fall into them. “A supernova.”

She laughs, and Rush sits back, taking her hands in his as her body shakes slightly. “Right, okay,” she says. “I’m a catastrophic and destructive astronomical event. That sounds about right.”

Fuck if those words from her lips don’t do things to him, but somehow he doesn’t think she really understands. He’s shit at this. This is why he wasn’t able to face the hospital and the doctors and the inevitable. Sure there was Icarus to bury himself in, but that was always just an excuse.

“No that’s - that’s not - fuck.”

Lacey snorts. “I get it, Nick.”

“No,” he sighs. “You don’t. You’re -” His hands flail at bit as he struggles for words. “Unstoppable.”

Then he brings his fist down on his thigh and takes a breath. “And I love you.”

Her mouth gapes. “What -?”

He loves her. And he thinks she’s unstoppable. Nicholas Rush thinks she's un-fucking-stoppable, like an explosion from a collapsing star. And somehow that’s the best thing anyone had ever said to her or about her.

A lock of hair comes loose from her hair clip as she looks up. “Nick, I -”

He raises a hand and she stops. “You don’t have to say it. It’s - I just needed you to know, and if you don’t, that’s fine. But I went home, all the way back to fucking California, and - and it wasn’t anymore. It wasn’t home.”

He’s jumbling everything now, his brain rapidly trying to catch up to the fucking leap his heart had apparently made without permission. But he barely has a chance to say everything that’s trying to rush out of him before Lacey launches herself into his lap and kisses him, pushing her tongue in his mouth as her legs squeeze his sides. One hand goes in her hair, pulling the clip loose, while the other holds her face and tilts her head to a better angle.

When they finally came up for air, Lacey is grinning. “Shut up, Nick.”

Rush smiles. “You’re distracting me, sweetheart.”

She shrugs one shoulder and bites at his bottom lip, pulling a lovely feral sound from his throat. “Oops.”

He moves to kiss her again but she leans back, pressing one hand to his chest.

She closes her eyes, briefly, and takes a breath. It’s all so obvious now. “I love you too.”

The talking part of the evening is clearly over as Lacey starts unbuttoning his shirt, cursing as she goes.

“Why do you have to wear these fucking button down shirts all the time?”

“I’m a professor,” he snarks, slipping his hands under the hem of her sweatshirt. His fingers dance up her sides until his thumbs are brushing the underside of her bare breasts. No bra. “Fuck.”

She pauses, her fingers holding the second to the last button and gives him a look. “And here I thought it was because you looked so fucking sexy in them.”

He lips quirk and he cups her breasts, making her lose her grip on his shirt when he rubs the pads of his thumbs over her nipples. “I think you’re the only one with that opinion.”

“Mmm,” she hums and arches into his touch. “Does it matter - oh - if I am?”

Rush stops teasing her nipples, and brings his hands to her waist. “No,” he answers softly. “Yours is the only opinion I give a flying fuck about.”

Lacey grins and pulls the last two buttons of his shirt free before pushing it off his shoulders. “Damn straight, Nicky,” she says, smirking at the way he rolls his eyes.

“Hate it when you say that,” he replies, half smiling. Then he shifts and settles back against the couch, pulling her with him, and groaning as her hips roll into his.

“Obviously.”

She smiles at him, her heart soaring when he grins back, and leans in to kiss him, cupping his scruffy cheeks in her hands. His fingers curl around her hips and pull her closer, his mouth slowly slanting over hers. Her arms slide over his shoulders, one hand coming up to thread through his soft hair as she sink into the kiss. His tongue probes at her lips, seeking entrance, and she gladly opens, letting their tongues slide together.

After a moment, she moves one hand, skimming it down over his stomach and then the bulge in his pants. He moans in response, the sound reverberating straight through her. He pulls her to his chest as his mouth breaks away from hers to run his lips over her jawline. She lets out a small gasp and squeezes her knees on either side of him.

“Nick,” she breathes, and he hushes her gently.

Lacey is lost in the anticipation, heat burning between her thighs, screaming to be sated. They should go to her bed, she thinks, they should do this properly or something. It isn’t every day someone declares they loved her. In fact, it hasn’t ever been any day at all. Everything Garrett said was a lie to get into her pants or get her to stay with him. She can’t say that she’s ever really, truly been in love before right now. That should be sad, given that she’s about to turn twenty-six, that she’s been married. But she doesn’t feel anything except a stupid, flippy feeling in her stomach and an almost overwhelming desire to fuck Nicholas Rush into her lumpy, old couch.

She leans back and reaches down to pull up the hem of her shirt, twisting a bit to get it over her head. Her pelvis grinds against the hard ridge of his cock, her thin leggings no barrier to the wetness between her thighs. His breath hitches and he grunts out a little ‘fuck’ that makes her smile.

Rush’s fingers dip down to the waistband of her leggings, feeling her muscles tremble beneath his touch. Lacey French is fucking amazing, and he’s still reeling from the fact that she said she loved him too. Given how bleak everything has seemed for the last month, he hadn’t expected such an ending. Especially from himself. But the revelation of his feelings was too much to keep in, like when he knew without a doubt he had the right answer. Oddly, it feels just like it had when he realized he loved Gloria, and there is a strange comfort in that, a rightness in his mind and heart.

Lacey gasps out his name as his hand slips beneath the waistband of her pants and underwear in one deft move. Her fingers curl around his wrist, the other grabbing at his shoulder as his fingers slowly explored her. She can feel the callous on his thumb, created from the pressure of his pencil, as it rubs against her clit. There’s something so erotic about the little rough spots on his hands and fingers as they stroke her sensitive flesh. It reminds her of the scrape of his whiskers when he licks her to a frenzy. Rush has a lot of rough parts, but she loves every one of them. They made him feel so real, so human, like she’s really connected to someone.

“So wet,” Rush hisses close to her ear, his breath dancing over her as he circles her clit.

She cries out as he presses a single digit into her, hips moving earnestly in response to the mounting pleasure.

“Fuck,” she pants, letting her head fall against his shoulder. “Please, please, please!”

She’s close. Her pussy is already fluttering around his finger and then he adds a second, drawing a long moan from her.

“Oh -” Lacey bites down on her lip, her eyes closed tight as he thumbs at her clit just right and rocks his hand against her, fingers thrusting shallowly.

That is all it takes.

She cries out as her orgasm hits, her whole body tensing all at once as white dots flash behind her eyelids. It was always intense with Rush before, but this is different. They’re different. Everything is fucking different now that they are officially in love with each other. As the pleasure dulls to a quiet roar in her ears, Lacey smiles and kisses his bare shoulder. Rush is in love with her.

She’s going to have to repeat that to herself a lot.

After a long moment, Lacey lifts her head and looks down at him. “Hey.”

Rush smiles softly. “Hey.”

Then he pulls her down for a kiss that quickly turns desperate and needy. Her hips start moving against his, tormenting his aching cock as she moans against his lips. He feels her hands sliding over his arms and down his chest to fumble with his belt. Eventually she yanks it open, and starts tugging on his zipper.

He grunts and pulls back, lifting his hips so she can eased his jeans and underwear down, watching as she stands up to shuck her leggings. Then she straddles him again and takes his cock in her hand, stroking him firmly and tearing a long, low moan from his throat. The need he feels for her isn't new, but it is different. Before it seemed like only she could fill those hollow places he’d ignored for so long. Now he feels whole, renewed, and free. He feels like he can try giving back what she has given him, that he can let himself love her without reservation, and without the past holding him down.

His head lolls back against the sofa as she twists her hot little hand, smearing precum along his shaft. “Fucking hell, Lace.”

Lacey grins and then kisses him, desperate and messy. She raises up on her knees, breaking the kiss, and guiding his cock to her aching center. She lets the head slip back and forth between her folds until he keens. She gasps against his lips and he licks at her, flicking his tongue over hers, teasing as he lifted his hips. She lets her weight drop and they press together slowly, savoring the slow slide of his cock inside her, and moaning in each others mouths as skin meets skin with nothing between them.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” he asks, panting, and she nods

Lacey bites her lip and moves back just a little, feeling him shift against her slick pussy. He pulls on her hips and slides back in, and she whimpers. Oh, it feels just as good as she remembered.

Rush breaks away from her lips, and presses his forehead to hers. His eyes gaze into hers as he rolls his hips up, lifting her and letting gravity draw her back down. Everything hot and tight, wet and soft.

“More,” she begs, running her fingers through his long hair as she rocks into his movements. Her knees push into the sofa cushions, the textured fabric biting into her skin, but she ignores it and moves her hips as faster.

Rush picks up the pace of his thrusts, using his arms to lift her as best he can, drawing out and slamming into her over and over.

“So. Fucking. Good,” he gasps, dragging his lips along her collarbone.

Lacey’s hands scrape over his chest, and curl around the back of his neck to hold him close.

“Oh, Nick,” she moans, her head falling back. “Yes. Yes!”

She’s close again, teetering on the edge. Her nails dig into his shoulders as she holds onto him, biting down on her bottom lip. Then she feels his hand between them, his thumb seeking and finally pressing against her clit. Her mouth falls open in a silent scream, everything so intense she can’t make more than a squeaky little gasp. The pulsing of her cunt brings him over the edge just after, and the look on his face in that moment is enough to make her tremble all over again.

He looks relaxed for the first time since she met him. Not even a whole six pack of beer, or the exhaustion after 30 hours in his office scribbling on the whiteboard has made his jaw go slack like that. When he looks at her, his eyes are dark, but glowing in the low light, more open than she’s ever seen. In that moment, Nick Rush is an open book to her, and she feels tears well up in her eyes.

“So, you love me, huh?”

Rush nods. “Aye, I do.” Then he gives her a lopsided grin. “Maybe next time we’ll make it to the bed. Or even out of our clothes.”

Lacey laughs and kisses, her thumbs stroking the soft whiskers on his cheeks. “Maybe,” she says. Then she turns serious and sighs. “Where do we go from here?”

He brushes her hair back from her face, the corner of his mouth curving up. “I don’t know,” he admits. “But I’m not leaving again, without you.”

“Would you stay?” she asks. “Here?”

He shrugs, his thumb brushing lightly over her neck. “Yes. If you wanted.” Then he smirks. “But have you considered moving to California?”

Her head tilts as she considers his offer. “Is the weather nice?”

“Nah,” he scoffs. “It’s shite. In the winter it rains for five days at a time, there’s fog every other morning, and the summer’s too hot to breathe.”

She shakes her head. “Sounds lovely.”

“It is,” he says softly. “The people are nice too, sometimes they even remember to use their fucking blinker before they cut you off.” Then he sighs. “But I have to start class on Monday or Mal really will fire me. I have a return flight tomorrow morning, so if you’re serious -”

She giggles and wraps her arms around his neck, shutting him up as she presses her body against him in a tight hug. It’s a good thing she doesn't have much she cares about here, there will be less to pack. “Yes,” she whispers into his neck. “Fuck this place.”

His arms come up to hold her, marveling at how perfect everything feels. Gloria was right, some people never had what they’d had, but somehow Nicholas Rush has been lucky enough to find it twice. And he’s never letting it go again.

#rumbelle christmas in july #rumbelle #anonymousnerdgirl #rushacey #rush x lacey #fic #rushacey fic #rcij 2017

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