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misskikuwrites · 4 years

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Out in the Open

Bederia Week 2020

Open Prompt

Bede/Gloria (dressedinpinkshipping)

@bede-x-gloria

Bede tugged absently at the fluffy cravat puffing out of his intricate suit, trying desperately to ignore the make-up artist working on his hair. His whole body was as stiff as concrete. His stomach churned sickly with regret as he chided himself silently for accepting Gloria's invitation. Sure, that would have made him the only Gym Leader to decline being a part of the charity photoshoot, but perhaps that would have been better than to be stuffed in a suit that looked a few centuries out of date, to have make-up artists fawn over his soft, pale skin and mess with his hair.

He had half a mind to swat away the hands currently fitting extensions into his hair. He wasn't sure how much more of that he could take when he was finally released from the artist and stood, walking away from the mirror to where Gloria was currently being photographed with Milo. Her long brown hair had been split into two braids, a straw hat on her head. The scene was set up like a farm, Gloria propping a foot on a bale of hay, a pitchfork in her hand. She and Milo wore matching overalls and hats, a Wooloo sleeping at their feet. The thick smell of straw permeated the studio. The camera flashed rapidly, a rally of quick clicks as dozens of photos were snapped every second.

Gloria laughed at something, Milo smiling sheepishly. Bede watched silently from afar as assistants rushed in and out of the scene, shifting things this way and that, directing Gloria and Milo where to stand, where to look. Another round of photos taken, Gloria was ushered away quickly to change behind a screen. She had a different outfit for every photo. Each Gym Leader had a photoshoot with the Champion, which meant Gloria had eight separate outfits to change into. Different hairstyles, different make-up pallets.

Exhaustion began to show in Gloria's smile when she was off the set. Under the lights, in the view of the camera, any hint of fatigue vanished as if a veil had been lifted off her face. Bede didn't know how long she'd been here; he'd rocked up less than an hour ago and she'd been in the middle of a shoot then too.

Bede watched curiously as the farm set transformed into the backdrop of an ocean, a sandy beach forming beneath the blinding lights. Nessa stepped forward, stretching her arms above her head as she took her place. She wore a slim fitting swimsuit reminiscent of her Gym Uniform, the wetsuit-type top revealing her dark, toned midriff, the high cut of her bikini bottoms showing off her long legs. Her hair was pinned up in a neat, stylish bun. Nessa smiled at someone to the side, laughing.

"Come on, you look great!" Nessa called, batting her long eyelashes sweetly. "You don't have to be shy!"

Gloria breathed a tight, nervous laugh as she stepped out. "I don't usually wear such… revealing clothing…"

Bede choked on air. Gloria's outfit perfectly matched Nessa's. A sleeveless wetsuit top that ended above her navel, the zip down the front undone slightly to reveal her collarbones. Her long, slim legs bare to the world. Gloria tugged at the base of her top, attempting to yank it lower. An embarrassed blush coloured her cheeks a delicate pink.

Nessa laughed. "That's not revealing, that's just a swimsuit!"

Gloria absently touched the top of her bun, her hair neatly tied above her head. Loose strands framed her flushed cheeks. She nodded stiffly, shooting a nervous glance around the room before her gaze landed on Bede. She stiffened suddenly, eyes blowing wide. A jolt of heat shot down Bede's spine. He raised a hand in what he hoped was a casual wave, leaning against the wall lest he topple over at the sight of her. Gloria ducked her head, returning his wave with a curt lift of her hand.

Arceus, he hoped he wasn't gawking like a fool at her. He swallowed thickly, folding his arms in an attempt to seem more relaxed.

A quiet laugh sounded next to him and Bede jumped. His heart lodged high in his throat as he turned to see Marnie grinning coyly at him. A sharp, knowing smile on her dark purple lips.

The jolt of shameful embarassment dispersed quickly as Bede blinked at Marnie. She wore a dark purple and black dress with an immense number of frills and layers, ending at her knees. It had long, frilly sleeves and large ribbons, her shoes a similar colour and style. She held a dark parasol in her hands, an innumerable amount of ribbons and lace decorating it. Her hair was curled immaculately, resting gently on her shoulders.

"Too bad you missed our shoot," Marnie said. "You should've seen what Gloria was wearin'."

Bede kept his expression neutral, forcing the embarrassment off his face. "And why would I have cared to see that?"

"Well, since you're here starin' at her with your mouth hangin' open, I thought you'd wanna see the pictures I took of her." Marnie shrugged. "Guess not."

Bede touched his jaw anxiously, making sure that it definitely wasn't hanging open. He could feel the amused look Marnie was giving him. She took out her phone, swiping across the screen.

"Too bad. She's super pretty…"

Bede narrowed his eyes at the back of Marnie's phone. She was baiting him. But… if there really was a picture…

Marnie turned her phone around to show him, a shot of Piers staring back at him. "Gotcha. There's no pic. Not allowed to take 'em."

Bede scowled. "I wasn't interested anyway."

Marnie chuckled quietly again before leaving to change out of her complicated dress. Bede breathed a deep sigh of relief and focused on keeping his expression in check. With the other Gym Leaders wandering around, some getting into their outfits and others ready to leave, Bede couldn't risk being seen staring, gawking, like a lovestruck fool at Gloria. It was bad enough that Hop, Marnie and Ms Opal were well aware of his feelings - at least they had the decency to keep quiet about it. The other Gym Leaders… may not have that kind of tact.

Bede brought out his phone, acting as if he were more interested in his scrolling through his feed than the photoshoot going on in front of him. He kept his looks to short glances, lifting his eyes from his phone for no more than a second or two at a time. He stifled a laugh at the brief look of panic on Gloria's face as she was seated sideways on the back of Nessa's Drednaw, her legs hanging over the side.

It wasn't long until Gloria was ushered away again, the beach disappeared and the interior of a ballroom taking its place. The photographer motioned Bede over and his chest fluttered. He strode over, flexing his clammy hands, and tried to focus on the scene being built, on the instructions of the photographer. They'd gone with a fairytale theme for the Fairy Gym, Bede styled like a prince and Gloria…

Like a princess.

Like something straight out of a picture book, Gloria was mesmerising. Her dress was themed like his suit, a soft, pale pink, flowing graceful from her waist to the floor. The bodice fit to her curves, detailed with intricate lace and threads. Long sleeves fell to her wrists, Gloria nervously playing with them as she approached. She stepped into the light, stepped up beside him, and Bede couldn't breathe.

Her cheeks were dusted a rosy pink, her lips glossy and pert. Her eyelids shimmered and sparkled in the light when she blinked, her eyes lined finely and accentuated. Her hair rolled lusciously over her shoulders in thick curls and when Bede's breath hitched in his throat he smelt peach and vanilla and wondered if that was what her lips would taste like-

Gloria's laugh made him jolt. "I look so strange, don't I? This doesn't suit me at all…!"

Arceus, Bede couldn't answer her. He couldn't admit that she was wrong and gorgeous and breathtaking; she'd stolen his breath and he never wanted to breathe again if it meant this moment would last forever. His mouth dropped open with words he couldn't say.

"Oh, your hair!" Gloria exclaimed. "It's so long!" She peered around him at the extensions running down his neck in a loose ponytail.

"It's rather ridiculous," Bede said, taking the moment to catch his flustering breath.

"I like it! It looks so sophisticated!" She smiled at him, her eyes widened after a moment. "Oh wow, your eyelashes look so long! Did they put make-up on you too?"

Gloria leant in close, standing on her toes and peering into his eyes. Bede stiffened like he'd turned to stone on the spot. The air died in his lungs. She was so close - too close - and all Bede could see was her gorgeous, honey-brown eyes, those glossy lips of hers parted slightly in awe, and he breathed in that heavenly scent again, his eyes fluttering closed in a wave of mortified embarrassment under her intense gaze.

"Alright - places, please!" the photographer called and Gloria stepped away for a moment. A moment of respite that soon shattered. The assistants rushed about, directing Bede and Gloria closer together. She ducked her head shyly as Bede was directed to place one hand around the back of her waist, the other holding hers. Gloria rested her other hand on his shoulder, flushing darkly as they stepped closer together so their chests were almost touching. They were posed to dance. Directed to meet each other's eyes.

It was akin to torture when they were asked to perform a few steps of the dance so that Gloria's dress would sway. Bede could hardly remember to breathe let alone the steps, on not treading on her feet. His hands felt too sweaty, too clammy. All he could see was her; under the blinding lights the rest of the world darkened and it was just her. Just Gloria, just this moment between them. Finally, she managed a smile and Bede's heart swelled. He was filled to the brim with dizzying warmth, captivated by the look in her eyes. He didn't notice that the photos had been taken until the set began to change around them.

The ballroom changed into a gorgeous garden, lush grass rolled out at their feet. They were directed to lie on it, assistants moving around them to fix their hair, Gloria's dress, as Bede lay on his back, Gloria on her side. It was only when Bede was told to look at her did he realise how close they were again. He shifted onto his side, taking her hand that lay between them as directed, and tried to fight the fire burning on his cheeks.

Oh, Arceus. It was impossible. Impossible to keep the adoration from his eyes, the longing pull of his heart from his face. His hand trembled as he cupped hers, threading their fingers together. He saw the slight widening of her eyes, the slight catch of her breath.

He wondered what she saw in his eyes as she studied his gaze. He wondered what it was he saw smouldering behind her dark eyes. The lights warmed her cheeks, the rosy make-up dusted across her cheekbones like a soft blush.

Then, Gloria laughed. A short, sweet sheepish breath of laughter that doused Bede in a sudden wave of calm.

"Sorry," she whispered quickly, laughter making her sound light and airy. "You look like a fairy."

Her comment filled him with warmth. He felt himself smile. "And you look like a silly woman who thought it was a good idea to dance with said fairy."

She giggled and Bede melted. His gaze melted and softened and he succumbed to this moment that would never come again. He let himself smile, gave in to his heart, the yearning ache in his chests, and melted for her.

It was over too soon, the garden disappearing around them as they sat up. Bede brushed a lock of hair off his face, breathing a quick sigh as he looked away from Gloria. His face burned, ached from his blush and the smile he'd worn.

"Um… Bede?" Gloria asked quietly, and Bede looked at her to find she was looking at the ground between them. "You're… still holding my hand."

Bede shot his eyes to their hands, fingers still entwined, and stole his hand away with a start. Fire erupted in his lungs.

"S-Sorry," he apologized quickly, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. He stood up stiffly, flexing his fingers at his sides. He ducked his head with a shameful flush and left to change out of his outfit. He couldn't look at her.

He could still feel the touch of her hand in his.

Bede could have died in mortification when the prints were released. As one of the models, Bede got a complementary set of pictures from his shoot for free, and decided to look at them in the privacy of his room where he didn't have to worry about prying eyes and knowing smiles.

A wildfire of heat, of scorching flames and dizzying warmth, spread through every inch of his body as he laid the prints out on his bed. Out there in the open, in every single shot, was the obvious adoration in Bede's eyes. His smile was soft, softer than he'd ever seen or realised, captured for all eternity and glaring back at him. A soft flush of pink coloured his cheeks in the photos.

Bede could have died then and there, but decided to focus instead on Gloria and not the lovestruck longing in his eyes and a different kind of heat washed over him. A flutter started in his belly, rising into his lungs until he could hardly breathe.

A dazzling light shined in Gloria's eyes. Her smile was bright and free and full of life. Her eyes crinkled in that adorable way they did sometimes. She smiled as they danced, as they lay on the lush grass together. As he smiled that soft, longing smile at her.

Bede swallowed an incoherent scream in his throat, cupping his face in his hands. He smouldered with heat right to the very tips of his ears.

Arceus. How could participating in the photoshoot be such a good and bad idea simultaneously?

He had these pictures to himself, a memory of those breathtaking moments, but also knew that these very same photos were available for everyone to see and buy.

And Gloria would have seen them too.

Oh, Arceus.

Sweet, holy mother of Arceus.

He didn't know if he could deal with that.

#bederiaweek #bederia #dressedinpinkshipping #bede #gloria #btyu #pokemon swsh

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longlivejasongrace · 6 years

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the luck i've had can make a good man turn bad

i meant to make a more fleshed out companion piece to my erasermight fic halley’s comet with alternative universe scenes or more reunions but i never came around to finish it so i’m just gonna post what i had here because i want it to see the light of day, i actually quite liked what i had so far.

if you dont feel like reading the original story, it’s an au where yagi and aizawa met in the first workplace experience aizawa had while they both were in high school.

before.

“Ah, Aizawa!”

Shōta flinched and turned around. The 1-B class had moved to the training grounds to hold a practical exercise with the two top students of Yūei and now one of them was jogging towards him. Shōta looked at him, his eyes inevitably following the movement of blond bangs swinging from side to side.

“Yagi.”

It was…. cute.

“I didn’t know you were in this class!” The way his smile broadened when he caught up to him felt like a bludgeon to the face. “How’ve you been? I didn’t hear from you since---”

“Oooh, does Aizawa have a private tutor for today’s assignment?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yamada---”

“Oh, hi Yamada!” Yagi slightly bowed his head at the loud underclassman. “Thank you again for inviting me to your radio show!”

Any trace of sarcasm in Yamada Hizashi’s face was wiped away by the honest enthusiasm in that voice. Shōta saw how his best friend started to stand on his tiptoes, his center of gravity shifting towards Yagi.

“Ah! I’m so thankful you can appear on my humble attempt at journalism!”

Shōta frowned. “You call hero gossip ‘journalism’?”

“Aizawa! So mean! It’s not gossip!”

“You always talk about your so called ‘sources’ but I have yet to--”

A soft chuckle made them both look at Yagi. His blue eyes crinckled at the edges and Shōta could see for the very first time how his eyelashes were the same color of his hair. Shōta closed his mouth so fast it made him wince.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to laugh at you! It’s just that--," he tilted his head. “You really make a great pair.”

They blinked almost in synch but while Yamada laughed in his outdoors level yet again, Shōta lowered his head, trying to hide his flaming cheeks behind his hair.

“Oh, right! You met at field training, right? Did Aizawa behave?”

He frowned. “You are the problem child out of the two of us, Yamada.”

“Aizawa, buddy, you flatter me but you do have a nasty mouth of your own.”

“It’s not nasty if I just state the truth.”

Yagi’s head jumped from one face to the other, like he was following a very close tennis match.

“I’m sorry to say no one wants your truth, dude.”

“Aizawa was a great help, really!” Yagi moved his hands in front of him, like he was trying to physically disperse their worries. “Even if his wording was a bit… eh.”

Shōta glared at him on instinct and Yagi scratched his cheek.

“Even Yagi noticed! Were you mean to him, Aizawa? That’s so not cool.”

“I wasn’t,” Shōta crossed his arms and tried very hard not to look like a sulking child. “Plus, I learned a lot from my guide," Yagi perked up, his eyebrows lifting in anticipation. Shōta felt his face heating up again.

He knew that--- Yamada knew. His annoying best friend had gotten better at reading him and he was sure he was pale enough for him to notice his blush. If Shōta didn’t say what he knew they were expecting, they would just tease him until he gave in. He would probably feel even more embarrassed and end up in an awkward position. It would be better if he made it quick, painless.

Like ripping off a band-aid.

Shōta blinked. “And Yagi, too.”

That earned him a pleased smile and a soft flush colouring still-round cheeks. In the heartbeat before Yamada started cooing at him, Shōta thought it was worth it.

“Does Aizawa have---”

“Hey, Yagi!” They turned their heads towards the voice and were met by a menacing scowl. “Get your ass over here, we have to start the demonstration.”

“Ah, sorry, Todoroki!" He turned back, a slight frown creasing his forehead. “Aizawa, could you stay after class? There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Uh--”

“Hurry the fuck up!”

“Coming!”

They saw him jog to the front of the training field where Todoroki waited for him with his hands on his pockets. Shōta blinked. Did he---?

“Did you just get asked out?”

He inhaled. “If you say anything more I swear to god, Yamada, I’ll fill your locker to the brim with cockroaches.”

“Ew! Aizawa, you’re awful!”

The sun was high on the sky, and the nearby trees in the courtyard casted leaves-shaped shadows on Yagi’s face. The bell for lunch break had already rang and the soft buzz of chatter seemed to blanket them in an almost ridiculous amount of normalcy. Here, in his gray school jacket and not in those ridiculous primary colors of his hero outfit, Yagi Toshinori looked exactly 18 years old. A semester away from graduating, but very much a high school boy.

It made Shōta’s pulse quicken.

“So, what did you want to talk about that required this amount of dramatics?”

Yagi’s shoulders fell. “Dramatics?”

“You know, asking me to stay after class, meeting up by the side of the school building,” Shōta shrugged, willing his voice to stay in its usual monotone. “It’s kinda-- too much.”

A pretty red dyed Yagi’s cheeks. “That wasn’t my intention! I just didn’t want to make a big fuss about it, I know how you hate attention.”

“Unnecessary attention,” he corrected. Shōta huffed, moving a few strands of hair from his eyes. “And, Yagi, this probably had the opposite effect.”

He blinked.

“It did?”

“I’m positive, yeah.”

Yagi put a hand -big, with long fingers and thin white scars along the side of it- over his forehead and eyes and groaned.

“I just-- I wanted to ask you about your internship and if you were going to apply to the same place as in the workplace experience.”

Shōta lifted an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know?”

“I really liked pairing up in patrol with you,” Yagi let his hand fall until it was resting against the back of his neck. “I think we make a good team, and I like your perspective on battles.”

Shōta felt something warm expand from the center of his chest. His bones felt light, like they were made out of cotton candy.

“Oh.”

“Ah, but that doesn’t mean I want to force you to apply wherever I’m working! You can make any decision you want, of course!”

Shōta looked at him, at his rosy cheeks and sky blue eyes. At the way a few rays of sunlight had managed to reach his hair between the thick leaves, making a golden halo for the rising star.

He swallowed.

“I won’t be applying to the same hero office.” His voice was a whisper and he gritted his teeth at the way Yagi’s expression fell, how he seemed to wilt under his rejection. “Like I said, I learnt a lot from my guide and--,” he cleared his throat. “From you, Yagi. But that agency was too high profile for me, and I want to be able to work in more--- underground environments.”

He lowered his gaze.

“Ah, I see.”

There was something off about his tone. It was too subdued. It didn’t go with the boldness of his smile or the determination of his eyes. Shōta resisted the urge to look up.

It felt like something bigger had happened, bigger than just talking about a course. A divergence in the road, a clean cut. A crash of principles.

Shōta bit his lip until it became numb, shielded by his hair.

“Well, sorry about taking up your time, Aizawa.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll see you around, okay?”

But before he could respond, Yagi had left.

after.

Toshinori had been looking. Not as closely as he would have liked, not as openly either, but he had. That was how he could recognize him so quickly, even though his hair was longer and his scarf obscured most of his face. He grinded his teeth together to stop himself from saying his name out loud.

Aizawa Shōta restrained the unconscious villain with his capture weapon, tying him up to a lighting post.

Toshinori spared a heartbeat to look at his back, his figure framed by the soft glow of the street lamp. Then he wrestled the mutant user who had a shock absorption quirk to the ground, effectively burying him in the concrete so only his legs stuck out, flailing.

“Thank you, fellow hero!”

Eraserhead turned around and Toshinori had to restrain the shiver that wanted to follow the line of his spine. His eyes weren’t red but they bored into him like he was trying to dissect him by gaze alone.

Oh.

“If I knew you were at the scene I wouldn’t have come.”

Oh.

“Well, I am very glad you came to help! That villain’s quirk was proving to be quite annoying!”

Aizawa looked at the rest of the villain gang who were passed out in different parts of the street, some hanging from street lamps and others doubled over garbage cans.

“You say that but at most it probably delayed you by just a few seconds,” he hid his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t it, Mister Number 1 Hero?”

Toshinori wanted to pull at his bangs in frustration. He laughed instead.

“But my friend! A second can be vital in a fight where you are outnumbered!” He stretched his smile and saw him narrow his eyes. “Particularly something as dangerous as heat vision, if you hadn’t intervened the damages to the nearby buildings would have been greater.”

He didn’t reply to that, but knowing his underclassman that was probably the best response he could get. Toshinori started looking for something he could use as a rope to hold the members of the gang together while they waited for the police force to come get them.

But a faint rustling made him look up. Eraserhead was already on top of a lighting post, making his exit.

“You’re leaving?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you need me to hold your hand until the cops arrive?”

“Shouldn’t you stay to give your account of the attack so they can make their report?”

“I don’t need that, I’m not big on getting my name on police files.”

“But I didn’t subdue them alone.”

Eraserhead shrugged. “You can take the credit for all I care.”

“I don’t take credit for other people’s work.”

They both blinked. Toshinori unclenched his fists, wondering with a pang of apprehension if he had let his uneasiness leak into his posture. Aizawa’s eyes surveyed every line in his expression, but they weren’t glowing red.

They never were, when he was looking at him.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to imply you did,” he licked his lips and he lifted his chin, like he was trying to get a better look at Toshinori. “It’s just that I don’t mind since I literally just spent two seconds actually doing something here.”

He felt his face getting warm and thanked the protection of the shadows of the night. He hadn’t let his temper get the best of him since his debut.

“I’m very sorry, I was rude.”

“You really weren’t.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you were implying--”

Eraserhead snorted. “It really doesn't need to be as complicated as you are making it.”

“Oh, okay.”

They regarded each other for a few seconds. Toshinori searched for the last remains of that short lived laugh on his face but Aizawa’s capture weapon didn’t let him. He bit his lip, the distance between them weighing him down like lead. He searched for things to say, to break the silence, to reach him like when they patrolled downtown Tokyo during their high school years.

He found nothing.

“Thank you for everything again.”

Eraserhead made a noncommittal noise.

“I hope I see you again, hero...?”

“Eraserhead. And I’m sure you won’t need to.”

And with that, Aizawa Shōta left. Toshinori kept his gaze on the lighting post, watching him leave him. Again.

#erasermight #allhead #my writing #i like writing yagi trying to be subtle but failing in some way or another #also i wanted to explore how hard it would be to pretend he doesnt know aizawa #maybe one day i'll write some more scenes of this verse and post it to ao3

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marilyngogosworld · 6 years

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THE BEGINNING OF MR. KNIGHT AND I

Corpus Christi - April 2017

It all started in this rather small,slow moving beach city,Corpus Christi Texas.

It was April 9th 2017 . After I had walked to this bar by myself, self loathing and basking in pity because it was sadly my 31st birthday, and I was all alone.In a place that I felt at one point was my safe haven, my place of rest, where I centered myself. Was now a place of desolate faces,souls that no longer accepted my extreme energy. Which I always tried to make sure it was a positive or white energy,but I am still human and I'm sure not everyone I came across, I was able to leave with that lasting positive from me. So there I sat,at this god awful dive bar, and after batting an eyelash or two asked this wanna be, cut off T-shirt, cowboy hat wearing wanna be if he would be so kind, as to watch my laptop for a moment while I used the ladies room . He so kindly obliged of course. In the restroom I what every girl on her birthday does, and got out my phone for a selfie or two. But once that ridiculousness was over. I caught myself in the mirror and just stared. Stared and thought about another year older, another year and I'm closer to my goal, yes , but nowhere near finishing. And another year I have been without what I consider my only prized possessions,my miracles of life, the joy in my life.. With that my tough girl act split in two and my true colors showing my true vulnerability.I was broken heart wrecked woman, with tears streaming down her face and a weight on her shoulders that only the world could fill. not hope in for humanity . ………... A few minutes passed and I was able to compose myself, and shake it off. I wipe the far too depressing tears from my freshly made up eyes and gather myself, Then walked out of the restroom.

to this much too territorial wannabe cowboy , and this new gentleman that was sitting in the seat next to mine. Now from first sight, I knew he was a nice guy , handsome, but I couldn't really tell 100%........because his blinding bright neon green/yellow shirt was too much for my eyes to even take in at the moment. Until I walked closer and sat down in my seat , right next to his. Thanked mister wanna be, and after he tried to spout off a overused pick up line I just sent him to my website and let that be it ( I wasn't there for one liners,and he wasn't my type to begin with ) then glanced back at this man with the blinding shirt to see he was looking up what I told the other, and as I smile to myself he notices of course .

And I say “ I see your looking me up too”

He says “ Well of course , I kinda had to … didn't I ?”

And as I tried to not let him see my smile, which was far too apparent. I decided to feel this one out . And if your all just now coming to the story about how I feel someone out , then you need to go back and read a bit more, I'm not going to explain how I do what I do.

So the best way to describe what I felt whenever I felt this man out, would be like he felt so familiar, like it was home, like my own breath being taken from my own lungs, as if it was me right there. That kind of familiar. Which I have never EVER had, but how could I question it??

SO I asked him his name and outstretched my hand to greet him…

And with this firm handshake and him looking me directly in my direction I was able to get a good look at this man that I felt I already knew. WIth dark perfectly disheveled longer hair, darker eyes that were so kind yet piercing and a wicked gorgeous smile , I was done for. He was exactly what I needed for my birthday night. (Oh little did I know ) And after we both took a big gulp of our overpriced and under made drinks I turned back to him and asked him rather matter of factly.

“ This bar kinda sucks , wanna go to a better one ? “

“Ya, ya that sounds good”was all he had to say

WIthin minutes both of us were out the door headed to his car, and with a swift double step to be ahead of me, was to make sure he could get to my car door before me, and with a confidence and ease smoothly opened it up like he had doing that same motion for decades, practicing until he got it down perfectly for that woman of his dreams that he would be opening a door for,for the rest of his life. It made my heart beat with a quickness and my cheeks warm and flushed with a rosy hue,surprised by this reaction disheveled I quickly gathered my composure and made a mental note of the major brownie points he had just rightfully earned in my mind.

As silly as it sounds that one simple chivalrous act from this man completely changed my thoughts about him.I could feel myself become more aware of how I was acting, and sitting and how he may or may not perceive me. Which is something that I NEVER did or cared about with anyone let alone a stranger….But I couldn't get a good read on him, to be honest I couldn't even imagine him being single. There was no way a good looking guy, like this,and a gentleman was still single.But I saw no ring,nor tan line. He must have some deep ridded issues that he carried as baggage to every relationship. But with each sentence and how smoothly the conversation flowed. I stopped worrying so much and just enjoyed a fun conversation something I hadn't done in a very long time.

Of course I just had to start in with the nosey prying type questions that I loved so much, just for the pure fact that it would typically make the other person uncomfortable, shifting in their seat as they contemplate if that question had really came out of my mouth , and if I wanted it to be truly answered. So there I begin with the rather personal questions and the playful banter between us just multiplied, he didn't even skip a beat. No awkward silence, no needed urge to fill that void either, the immediate comfortability was almost unnerving in fact. Meeting this very attractive human being and not feel a tinge of embarrassment over even the silliest of things that I typically turn red in the face over.

So of course I finally spit out the question that had been on my mind since the 15 minute car ride began. Now mind you, since the beginning of my dancing career I had made a couple guidelines a sort of moral compass for myself to stay mindful about where I was going in life and what path was I going down. Basically it kept me in check when certain situations would arise and if it was still on par with the standards that I set.There was one major thing that was 100% not ok in my eyes, I could never be a homewrecker.I experienced it as a child, and teenager royally screwing up my opinion of my father and even my mother . Putting marriage as an impossible feat instead of a no matter what and I made a promise to myself that I would never be that woman. So of course the next question was if he was married .

Then he said “ We are separated,not divorced yet. But the divorce is inevitable, it's been coming for 9 years now. My wife stopped wanting me, wanting to be intimate with me all together. And that's something that I need, its my love language, and I couldn't take the rejection anymore from her. So I ended things and seperated .

I was shocked by the upfront honesty to be well…...quite honest. My red flag feelers were ringing for sure, but my logic told me that if he was that upfront and honest with me then he for sure was telling the truth . That's when we pulled into the parking lot of the next bar, which I knew for a fact had my favorite Corpus Christi DJ was hosting an epic night full of the good ole Karaoke. Little did I know how that night would forever change my life, epic is an understatement.

To be continued…..

#Mr Knight #Marilyn Gogo #loveatfirstsight #twinflames #lovers #soulmates #bestlovestory #thereisnoending #tulmutrous

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iamtheno1cumbercookie · 6 years

Text

Sherlolly Secret Santa

@tribulationperiwinkle I am your secret Santa. I am so so so sorry that I didn't post this before but I've been running around like a maniac this holiday season. But here it finally is. A little Sherlolly ficlet for you. I hope you had a good Christmas and a Happy New Year.

“Why are we doing this? Why are you making me do this?” Sherlock huffed from his armchair wrapping his arms around his legs, feet up on the seat rather like a petulant child.

“Because it's the holidays and I thought it would be nice if I could meet your parents, finally, without the pressure of Christmas Dinner at their house. You know; meeting on neutral ground as it were.” Molly explained again from the kitchen as she checked on the roast

“My flat is neutral ground?” He said in wonderment, looking at his knees, but he knew Molly could hear him.

“Yes. If you had invited them to my house that would be a tad awkward since they’ve never met me and if I go over to their house well that would put me on uneven footing. This way you’re the host, even though I’m the one cooking the meal, and you are a mutual… whatever you are.”

“But why do you want to meet them in the first place?” Sherlock muttered into his knees thinking she wouldn't hear him.

“Because we've been together a year and a half and I think it’s about time I met them and they me, that's why!” Molly dumped the oven mitts on the table.

“I still don't understand why you must meet my parents at all, it’s bad enough we have to endure Christmas with them, must we go through this charade too?”

“I'm not even going to dignify your stupidity with an answer.” She crossed into the living room from the kitchen, stopping in front of his armchair, arms crossed. “Now will you please stop throwing a strop and go get ready?”

“No.” Sherlock huffed.

“Pretty Please?” She tried. It never worked but she tried.

Sherlock looked up at her through his eyelashes, hopeful. “How pretty can please get?” He wondered.

“As pretty as that new lingerie set I have in the underwear drawer.” She answered.

He sighed. “Fine, what do you need?” letting his feet fall back to the floor.

“I need you to go make those fancy Christmas Tree napkins, please, and then start getting ready.”

“Christmas Trees? Really, Molly? That’s so easy John can do it.”

“So it shouldn’t be a problem for you, then.” Molly said, dropping a bunch of fabric napkins in his lap. “and before you protest against the Christmas trees, it's December 15th, they're perfectly suitable for a dinner tonight.”

“Okay. Go wash up and I'll get them ready. My parents should be here in about an hour.” Sherlock offered, standing up and carrying the napkins over to the dinner table.

------

A few minutes later Molly emerged from the bedroom, dressed in the white hibiscus dress she'd worn for Rosie’s christening, to find an impeccably set table with green napkins intricately folded into trees atop each place setting. Behind her she could hear the sound of the shower running and figured Sherlock must have been getting ready. She smiled to herself and set about preparing the appetizers before Mr and Mrs Holmes arrived. She checked on the wine and trifle in the fridge (thankfully free of body parts) before going over all the details.

Sherlock finally came out of the bedroom, dressed in one of his best suits and his sinfully tight purple shirt.

“Really? You expect me to sit through an entire dinner with you wearing that?” She asked, washing her hands and drying them off on a clean towel.

Sherlock smiled an impish grin. “It wasn't ever going to be possible for me to talk you into cutting this dinner short. So maybe I can convince you otherwise.” He indicated his shirt. When Molly turned away from her ridiculous boyfriend, he continued. “You aren't exactly playing fair either. You know I could barely keep my eyes off you in that dress. You made me think some inappropriate things at that church.” he pointed to her dress as he tore up the lettuce and placed it in a bowl for washing.

“Oh please! You have inappropriate thoughts pretty much everywhere and it has almost nothing to do with what I wear.” Molly giggled, slicing up the tomatoes.

Sherlock smiled back as he finished washing and drying the salad and moved to open the bottle of red wine allowing it to breathe. The final thing he had to do was get the biscuit platter ready with an extra special tree napkin in the centre, to be used later on in the evening. He placed the last biscuit as the doorbell rang downstairs.

------

“That was a very lovely roast, dear.” Siger complimented Molly on the meal.

“Oh and that sauce was just delightful. Whenever we eat out it's either too thick or too watery or just too sweet. But you hit the nail on the head. I have to ask you for the recipe, dear.” Mabel elaborated.

“Thank you. It's just my grandmother's way of making Applesauce. I could never find a recipe good enough to replicate it but I found hers in one of her old notebooks.” Molly said sipping at her wine.

“Well if you keep cooking like that I don't think it will be long before we can add it to the family recipes, eh Sherlock?” Mabel laughed.

“Mummy.” Sherlock warned her with the same look she used to give him as a child.

“Dessert?” Molly asked, breaking the tension between the two.

“I’d love some.” Sherlock said, getting up from the table, collecting the plates from in front of everyone. Sherlock led his parents into the living room, taking with him the pre arranged platter of biscuits with the napkin tree in the middle, though he made sure to take a handful of paper napkins with him and placed a small pile each in front of his mother and his father. Molly soon followed with the trifle and bowls on a tray. Sherlock had arranged the seating so his mother and father were sitting in the armchairs while he and Molly were sitting close on the sofa together.

After the dessert had been consumed they all sat, drinking wine and chatting. Sherlock had been getting as close as possible to Molly, rubbing his thigh against hers. He reached over her towards the biscuit plate trying to pick up a gingernut and ending up toppling her wine glass out of her hand with his elbow.

“Sherlock! Look what you've done.” Molly exclaimed, snatching up the tree napkin to dab at her skirt. She didn't notice the small box that went flying.

“Oh dear you dropped something.” Mabel pointed at the box rolling on the carpet. Sherlock darted to quickly scoop it up before any of his parents could. He had to reach off the couch and practically kneel in order to pick it up from where it had landed.

“Molly.” He said slowly, still kneeling in front of her with the box held out to her.

“Oh God.” She said when she realised what he was doing.

“Molly Hooper you are the only woman who I truly understand and who truly understands me in the same way. I cannot see myself spending my life with anyone else and I love you. Will you marry me?” Sherlock asked, opening the small box to show a glittering diamond and sapphire ring.

Molly's mouth hung open until she found the right thing - anything frankly - to say. “Sh-Sherlock.” she started, then gulped. “Did you just spill wine on me so you could propose?” She asked, a small crinkled appearing between her eyebrows.

“Yes.” Sherlock said a little too pleased with himself.

“You won't do one single thing even half way traditionally will you?” She asked him. He could see the humour behind her question.

“No. Of course not, never.” He said

“Then of course I'll marry you, you silly man. I love you.” Her face broke into a smile before she threw her arms around his neck and snogged him breathless. Behind him they could hear Mabel silently sobbing happily.

When they finally came up for air, his parents congratulated and hugged them.

“Welcome to the family dear.” Mabel told her hugging the doctor close.

“Thank you. Oh that reminds me, i better go get you that recipe.” She joked and headed to the kitchen to look for champagne and glasses.

#sherlolly secret santa 2017

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hongbab · 6 years

Text

Obsession - Sanghyuk had stupid shiny black hair and a stupidly cute fleshy nose and a pair of stupid, nicely-shaped eyes as well as stupid pink lips he liked to wet with his tongue a little too much between two stupid smirks, and he was also stupidly tall, but Jaehwan would never have a crush on him. He didn’t like bad guys. (Ken/Hyuk, pg-13, 5953 w)

a/n: i don’t even know if @jeodoboleo remembers the prompt i wrote this fic for... but sweetie, this one is for you, and i’m so sorry for being so late :’(

shout out to @yayhwan for helping me with certain very important parts, and to my dear friend @ottokaji-vixx who provided me with visual material to boost my inspiration. thanks a lot, guys ♥

The high collar of Jaehwan’s red cape was messing with the back of his head and the ruff around his neck was itchy. The horns on top of his head had probably collected half of the loose cobwebs hanging down from the ceiling, but he couldn’t care about them anymore. He didn’t want to be here among all these monsters: tens of witches and werewolves and ghosts and… skeletons. What’s up with all the walking skeletons, anyway?

From his peripheral vision, he saw pitch black, velvety feathers moving towards him between the strange creatures, a tacky grey scythe helping its owner advance towards Jaehwan. When the Angel of Death finally stopped in front of him, Jaehwan saw how rosy his cheeks were under the dark shadows framing his eyes.

“Next time you need to get your own drink,” Hakyeon grumbled as he handed an open bottle of beer to Jaehwan. “It’s so fucking hot in here; why isn’t anyone opening a window?”

“Decorations,” Jaehwan shrugged, pointing at the paper bat garlands and sticky cobwebs in front of the windows.

Hakyeon mumbled something about ‘useless shit’, but then a blonde girl dressed in a racy cop costume stopped in front of them, flashing white teeth from behind her luscious red lips.

“Hello, guys,” she said, giving both of them a once-over. Her smile seemed to widen as she looked up at Hakyeon's face again. “Trick or treat?” She fluttered her long, false eyelashes, holding up a pair of plastic handcuffs in one hand and a small basket already full of sweets in the other.

“I’m gay,” Hakyeon declared flatly, resuming scanning the crowd for something or someone. (Definitely someone.)

“And I choose treat, thanks!” Jaehwan said happily, grinning as he grabbed a handful of the sweets in her basket and put them in his pocket.

The girl’s smile faltered and she grimaced, saying “Assholes” before turning around, deliberately swaying her hips in her blue mini dress.

“There he is,” Hakyeon said and practically started vibrating next to Jaehwan.

“Taekwoon?” Jaehwan asked wearily, taking a sip of his beer. “Thank God, I’ve been beginning to think he died.”

“Seems like he did,” Hakyeon said cheerfully, like that was something to be cheerful about.

And indeed Taekwoon's face looked greyish green with some fake dark wounds and stitches above his left eyebrow and on his right cheek, the dirty and torn T-shirt with the similarly disgusting zip up hoodie making him look like a homeless guy about to puke. Hakyeon looked like he could swoon from the sight anytime.

“He hangs out with that Sanghyuk guy way too much,” Hakyeon scoffed when Taekwoon and Sanghyuk greeted each other with some kind of pretentious bro-handshake. “Why is a 4th year Engineering student hanging out with a Chemistry freshman anyway?”

“They could be friends with benefits,” Jaehwan offered, laughing at the murderous glance Hakyeon sent him. “Or they could just be friends.”

Sanghyuk then reached into his pocket under his stupidly authentic vampire cape, grinning with his stupidly white teeth as he shoved a small plastic bag into Taekwoon's hand, seemingly trying to hide the mysterious item from those who were standing around them. Jaehwan narrowed his eyes.

“And business partners,” he murmured. “Do you think it’s some kind of drug?”

“No!” Hakyeon exclaimed, indignant. “Taekwoon wouldn’t use drugs.”

“Well, he’s giving Sanghyuk a nice wad of cash though,” Jaehwan said, not approving of the shady exchange whatsoever.

The thing was that Jaehwan didn’t like Taekwoon, but he felt an even deeper antipathy for Sanghyuk. He didn’t know the boy personally, but he had heard about him from Hongbin who had gone to the same high school as him, and so Jaehwan knew Sanghyuk had a history with the police. Hongbin could never really tell him about the details—“I just heard he did something bad,” he said. But ever since Sanghyuk had come to study at their university, Jaehwan kept an eye on him. Hakyeon always joked about how Jaehwan had a crush on Sanghyuk, but that was absolutely ridiculous and Jaehwan always felt like slapping Hakyeon for such comments. True, Sanghyuk had stupid shiny black hair and a stupidly cute fleshy nose and a pair of stupid, nicely-shaped eyes as well as stupid pink lips he liked to wet with his tongue a little too much between two stupid smirks, and he was also stupidly tall, but Jaehwan would never have a crush on him. He didn’t like bad guys.

“It can’t be drugs,” Hakyeon said now, sounding a bit devastated.

Sanghyuk, however, leant close to Taekwoon, whispering something into his ear, and then Taekwoon nodded, skittering away and getting lost in the crowd.

“I’m going there,” Hakyeon said determinedly and grabbed Jaehwan by the wrist, tugging him along as if Jaehwan was his belonging without which he couldn’t show up anywhere.

“But I don’t want to go!” Jaehwan shrieked in vain. “Wait, my pitchfork!”

Hakyeon didn’t wait for Jaehwan to get his plastic pitchfork from where it stood in the corner, and instead hurried to Sanghyuk.

“Hi,” he greeted the boy who seemed to wince in surprise as he glanced down at Jaehwan and Hakyeon's duo. Jaehwan felt like a Hobbit looking up at an Ent.

He wouldn’t watch The Lord of the Rings ever again.

“Oh, hey,” Sanghyuk smirked.

“Nice vampire costume,” Hakyeon said, stretching his neck to look for Taekwoon. His head looked like a periscope in the sea of people.

Sanghyuk laughed and shook his head.

“I’m not a vampire.”

“We must have different ideas about what makes a vampire,” Jaehwan grimaced, motioning vaguely at Sanghyuk's white-painted face, slicked-back black hair, and the cape that looked a bit too short and only reached his ankles. He looked like a little boy who had outgrown his favourite trousers.

“No, you’re misunderstanding me,” Sanghyuk said, unfazed by Jaehwan's biting comment. “I’m dressed as Bela Lugosi.”

Jaehwan cocked an eyebrow and tried not to roll his eyes too conspicuously.

Bela Lugosi – how snobbish.

“So, you’re a human dressed as a human dressed as a vampire,” Jaehwan drew the conclusion.

“Basically, yes.”

“How cool,” Hakyeon said and then his voice changed to a higher pitch as he said, “Oh, hello, Taekwoon.”

Taekwoon mumbled a ‘hello’, suspiciously rubbing his nose and sniffling as he handed Sanghyuk a cup of disgustingly turquoise liquid with something white and steam-like floating up from it, but the drink somehow still looked cold, if the condensation on the side of the transparent plastic cup was any indication. Taekwoon took a tissue out of his pocket and blew his nose. Jaehwan and Hakyeon shared a look which, on Jaehwan's part meant “I told you” and on Hakyeon's meant “Please, tell me this isn’t what it looks like”.

Jaehwan was sure it was cocaine. Well, he was only sure it was cocaine because he didn’t really know much about drugs (except weed which he had tried twice before), and cocaine was the only one he knew was meant to be consumed through the nose. Taekwoon looked shady enough to use such things and Sanghyuk looked shady enough to trade such things. It was as clear as day.

“This is really good,” Sanghyuk nodded at Taekwoon after taking a sip of his drink. He turned to Jaehwan then, holding up the cup. “Do you want to try it?”

Jaehwan opened his mouth to say something—to lecture Sanghyuk about human relationships and especially about the non-existent relationship between the two of them, and about how he would never even want to touch something a criminal like Sanghyuk had touched before him.

But Jaehwan was weak and he was extra weak for neon-coloured, syrupy, sweet-looking drinks. He took the cup, keeping his eyes on Sanghyuk as long as he could. He might have just imagined it, but Sanghyuk's cheeks looked a bit pinker than they originally had when Jaehwan gave him back his drink which tasted extremely good.

“Can I try it, too?” Hakyeon asked, blinking at Taekwoon innocently, smiling that sweet smile of his that made humans of all genders and sexual orientations melt. It had made even Jaehwan melt once, but that’s another story and by now Jaehwan knew the raw and almost animalistic intention behind that smile. He shivered from the thought.

Taekwoon frowned momentarily in confusion, but let Hakyeon take the cup from him, holding it with two hands as he took a sip, his eyelashes fluttering prettily when he returned the cup to Taekwoon and somehow managed to influence the movements of his oesophagus, swallowing slowly and pursing his lips like a kitten drinking too cold milk. Taekwoon seemed a bit dazed.

“That was… sweet,” Hakyeon giggled, licking his lips. Taekwoon followed the movement with his eyes, mesmerized.

“Okay, we really need to go now,” Jaehwan said, grabbing Hakyeon's arm. He really didn’t want to spend the night in the common room of their dorm, sleeping fitfully on a couch and waiting for Hakyeon to materialize next to him in a T-shirt he had haphazardly thrown on, smiling like a fool and telling Jaehwan he could go back to their shared bedroom. He also didn’t really want to freeze to death from having the window open in order to let out the stuffy, sweaty air that screamed sex. (But if he had to choose, he’d rather freeze to death than inhale the scents of Hakyeon and someone else’s condemnable deed.)

Hakyeon made a wailing noise, but it was now Jaehwan's turn to drag him away. Before they could have fought their way through the crowd though, Jaehwan felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Jaehwan,” Sanghyuk said and when Jaehwan turned on his heels, they were so close to each other the tip of Jaehwan's nose almost touched Sanghyuk's lips. Jaehwan was sure the piercing sensation in his chest was a delayed reaction to the ice cold beverage, just as the sudden change of the speed of his heartbeat was. He took a step back. “Um, good night,” Sanghyuk said almost sheepishly and Jaehwan nodded jerkily.

He saw from the corner of his eye how Hakyeon glanced longingly at Taekwoon one last time before they left the main hall and in it, two possible criminals.

Jaehwan dreamt about Sanghyuk that night and woke up with an annoying and embarrassing morning wood.

The Indian summer brought with it a warm air that was unusual even compared to the unseasonable warmth that made Indian summer what it was.

Jaehwan and Hakyeon had decided to spend the afternoon in the park of the campus, pretending to study for their Maths test the day after. Jaehwan went to get his favourite iced coffee from the cafeteria, mixing five packets of sugar into his drink before walking back towards the tree under which Hakyeon was lying on his stomach, no doubt daydreaming about Taekwoon while drawing small hearts in his textbook and writing CHY × JTW in the middle of them. He was like a schoolgirl.

Jaehwan wanted to mock him and sing the Kissing Song, but then he noticed a tall, familiar figure lurking behind the wall of the Science building, looking as if he was up to no good.

Sanghyuk's hair fell into his forehead, his faded black T-shirt stretching on his back as he bent over somewhat, taking a worn backpack off his shoulder. Jaehwan narrowed his eyes and hid in a niche, peeking from behind the wall.

“You can’t tell anyone, understand?” Sanghyuk asked in a low voice and he sounded so serious it made the hairs on Jaehwan's arms stand on end. He tried to make himself believe it wasn’t from Sanghyuk sounding extremely hot while giving orders. (Jaehwan gulped down half of his coffee to freeze his irrational brain.) “You need to be very careful. Promise me you won’t show it to anyone.”

“I promise,” came the shaky, scared whisper.

“Good girl,” Sanghyuk said, making Jaehwan's stomach tie into knots.

The praise made him remember the dream that kept returning to him: Sanghyuk towering over him, backing him up against a wall until Jaehwan could barely breathe from the close proximity of their bodies and he felt Sanghyuk's heartbeat in his own chest. In his dream Sanghyuk would always lean close to his ear then and whisper his name—“Jaehwan, Jaehwan, Jaehwan” over and over—and when Jaehwan felt Sanghyuk's breath ghost over his lips… he would always wake up angry and uncomfortable and hated Sanghyuk a little bit more than the day before.

“Spying on others, are we?”

Jaehwan took a sharp breath, blinking fast to force himself back into reality as Sanghyuk stood in front of him with his hands in his jeans’ pockets, cocking his head to the side curiously, his ever-present smirk making him appear rather condescending.

“What I’m doing here is none of your business,” Jaehwan grumbled, lifting his coffee to his mouth, but before he could have drunk from it through the straw, the cup got snatched away from him, Sanghyuk beaming at him victoriously.

Jaehwan watched Sanghyuk wrap his mouth around the straw, and when he smacked his lips in a satisfied manner, Jaehwan felt like kicking the boy in the shin.

“I’ll see you around,” Sanghyuk said, holding up the coffee to its ex-owner, thus bidding goodbye to Jaehwan before sauntering away, no doubt squaring his shoulders just because he knew how broad they were and how attractive that might look to certain bystanders.

“Nice back,” Hakyeon (one of two certain bystanders) said, appearing next to Jaehwan. “But he could work on his butt a little bit more.”

“Says the one who’s crushing on Mr. Pancake Ass,” Jaehwan mumbled.

“Oh, so now you’re defending him?” Hakyeon snorted, elbowing into Jaehwan's side. “We could go on double dates!”

“If I still had my coffee, I’d throw it in your face,” Jaehwan said and turned around, walking towards the dormitories, mourning his loss.

Sanghyuk thought he was so clever, but Jaehwan knew he was even cleverer than a boy who kept conducting fishy business among the trees in the park, behind the bookshelves of the library, and in the dirty toilet stalls of the men’s room. Therefore Jaehwan, quite unlike himself, took notes—too bad those notes wouldn’t help him pass his Geometry exam.

“See? He met up with that guy, Wonshik, in the library,” Jaehwan told Hakyeon, sticking his notes under Hakyeon's nose and covering the screen of Hakyeon's phone.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Hakyeon said, batting away Jaehwan's hand so he could continue scrolling through his Twitter feed.

“Of course it does!” Jaehwan exclaimed and climbed up on Hakyeon's bed, pointing at his notes. “Neither Sanghyuk nor Wonshik ever go to the library, and we all know Wonshik is high on something ten hours out of the twelve he spends awake! They were whispering in the corner!”

“Jaehwan,” Hakyeon sighed and sat up in bed, cupping Jaehwan's cheeks in both hands. “With all due respect and with all the love I feel for you… you’re being paranoid and your obsession with Sanghyuk is starting to grate on my nerves. Go and kiss him or tell him to sleep with you, just— please, do something about this, because I’m near suicidal from the whole thing, okay?”

Jaehwan stayed utterly still for a few tense moments, his cheeks gradually heating up under Hakyeon's soft palms. When he next spoke, his voice trembled with suppressed anger.

“I wanted to share the brownies I bought today with you,” he said, “but I don’t share my food with people who aren’t my friends.”

With that, he stood up, and spent the rest of the evening glowering at Hakyeon from his bed while munching on his brownies and pouting at every single bite.

Jaehwan kept bouncing up and down next to Hakyeon while a member of the student government was explaining the rules of the treasure hunt to them, talking about maps and paths and colourful envelopes hidden in the forest, but Jaehwan was deaf to all of those things. Earlier during his speech, the student government representative mentioned that the prize would be “something invaluably sweet”, which, to Jaehwan, meant a huge chocolate cake, or a piñata filled with chocolate bars and sour candy and lollipops, or maybe a giant box of assorted doughnuts (with delicious vanilla glaze and raspberry filling and sprinkled with popping candy). The list of mouth-watering possibilities was endless and Jaehwan's stomach rumbled loudly at the thought of them.

“I’d like you to form groups of four,” the guy said and Jaehwan stopped bouncing.

“Let’s just hope he fucked up the maths and we can stay alone,” Jaehwan told Hakyeon, but the noisy crowd started moving on the clearing like one giant body and two figures appeared in front of them. “Oh, no. Quick! Let’s hide!”

“Are you insane?!” Hakyeon hissed. “I’ve been trying to get close to Jung Taekwoon for months; I’m not going to run away from him!”

Jaehwan mewled pathetically as Sanghyuk, with that shit-eating grin on his face and a hand on the shoulder of a rather reluctant Taekwoon led the older towards Jaehwan and Hakyeon.

“Guess the four of us have to be in a team,” Sanghyuk singsonged.

Jaehwan, who had previously tried to hide behind Hakyeon's back, stuck his head out now, trying to look for other available people, but they were the only ones remaining without a group. He wanted to head-butt Hakyeon from behind so badly.

Jaehwan watched Hakyeon take one of the five different maps from the student government representative, and folded is arms in front of his chest, walking sulkily behind Hakyeon, Taekwoon and Sanghyuk, keeping some distance from them and kicking away stray pebbles. As if mirroring Jaehwan's sombre mood, the sky suddenly became overcast.

“What’s up, Jaehwan-ah?” Sanghyuk asked, dropping behind to walk with Jaehwan.

“How dare you call me that,” Jaehwan grumbled, the quiet sound of a faraway thunder emphasizing the murderous look he sent Sanghyuk. “And don’t talk to me.”

“Sorry, I got tired of third-wheeling over there,” he pointed at Hakyeon who chuckled obnoxiously at whatever Taekwoon had or had not said, leaning on Taekwoon's arm.

Jaehwan was not going to give in to Sanghyuk so easily, so he stopped walking which Sanghyuk only noticed after more than two metres. When Sanghyuk turned around with an eyebrow cocked questioningly, Jaehwan pursed his lips.

“Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll go after you; just go.”

“Jaehwan, come on,” Sanghyuk rolled his eyes. “Do you really hate me that much?”

But Jaehwan didn’t reply. Instead, he looked up at the now steel-grey sky from where cold raindrops kept falling, landing on Jaehwan's hair and face.

“It’s raining,” he stated the obvious, and the thunder that followed his words seemed to shake the earth under his feet. Up above the dry, half-dead branches of the trees, a lightning bolt crossed the sky.

“We need to get back to the clearing!” Sanghyuk yelled through the sound of the heavy rain falling on the leaf litter.

Jaehwan turned around—he looked left and looked right and looked behind himself, but Hakyeon and Taekwoon and with them the map were nowhere to be found. The wind violently ruffled his wet hair.

“And which way did we come from?” Jaehwan asked, another thunder resounding through the forest. He decided it was best if they found the map, so he bellowed from the top of his lungs, “Hakyeon! Taekwoon! Where are you?!”

Panic started rising in him when neither Hakyeon, nor Taekwoon answered, and he heard an awful cracking noise as if a tree got broken into half. He jogged up to Sanghyuk who was fiddling with his phone under the lapel of his jacket.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jaehwan asked, trying to curl in on himself to become as small as possible. The less the surface the less rain would get on him. He’d also have less of a chance of being struck by lightning. Science was a beautiful magic.

“I’m trying to get us out of here, but there’s no service,” Sanghyuk said with branches crackling above their heads. “Fuck, we need to get out of here!”

“I know, but why are you yelling at me?!” Jaehwan all but screamed.

“I’m not yelling at you!” Sanghyuk shouted back. “Okay, come on.” When Jaehwan looked down at Sanghyuk's palm held out to him as if it was a dead rat, Sanghyuk became impatient. “Come on, Jaehwan, I don’t have any diseases, I promise! Take my fucking hand!”

Jaehwan took his hand, but not before stamping his feet a little. They started running in a direction Sanghyuk must have felt right, and some of the trees did seem familiar to Jaehwan until some point after which he was utterly lost. Sanghyuk, however, must have had a destination, running so fast Jaehwan felt like he was only floating behind.

Sanghyuk stopped at the edge of a frightfully unfamiliar row of rocks under which the forest floor continued a few metres lower. It was like a massive step and Jaehwan sort of expected another one to appear in the distance, leading even lower into the woods.

“We’ll need to jump,” Sanghyuk said then, letting go of Jaehwan's hand and leaping from the edge. He landed with a small slip on the wet leaves. “Jaehwan, jump!”

“This is too high!” Jaehwan whined, shaking his head. “I’m going to break my legs!”

“You’re going to break all of your bones if you stay there and a tree falls on you!”

“What’s the chance?”

“Fifty-fifty; it either does or it does not happen, but— Jaehwan, come on!”

“I’m scared!”

Jaehwan felt hot tears stinging his eyes as the storm seemed to start raging even more wildly. He was so cold and scared and he wanted to murder Hakyeon for disappearing—he just wanted to go back to the dorm.

“I’ll catch you,” Sanghyuk said then, wiping the rain out of his eyes and pushing his fringe back to see Jaehwan. He was blinking rapidly so as not to let the rain fall into his eyes. “I’ll catch you, I promise, just jump!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Jaehwan, I swear to—” a roaring thunder and a blinding flash, “I swear to God!”

Jaehwan took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the rocks, his fingers turning white as he tried to grip the stone under his butt. He didn’t trust Sanghyuk whatsoever and he especially didn’t want to be indebted to Sanghyuk for saving his legs, but the trees around him were now cracking and breaking constantly and he wasn’t ready to die yet. So he jumped.

Jaehwan kept his eyes closed while he was falling and only opened them when he felt his body stop in mid-air, his feet still not touching the ground. He knit his brows and looked up to see Sanghyuk smirk again.

“What are you grinning at?!” Jaehwan yelled. “Put me down!”

Sanghyuk huffed, but he did as he was told and Jaehwan suddenly found himself sitting in a narrow hollow between two rocks, shaded from the downpour. Sanghyuk sat down next to him, leaning back and breathing loudly, stretching out his legs.

“This is it?” Jaehwan asked and Sanghyuk let his head loll to the side to look at Jaehwan. “Are we just going to sit here?”

Outside of their shelter a thick branch fell off one of the trees, landing on the ground with a thump.

“I am,” Sanghyuk nodded. “You’re free to go if you want.”

Jaehwan only held his own arms tighter.

“Didn’t they check the weather forecast?” Jaehwan grumbled, just to do something about the awkward atmosphere. “How long do you think this’ll last?”

“Not too long,” Sanghyuk replied.

“How do you know?”

“I just know,” Sanghyuk shrugged.

Jaehwan rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything else.

No matter how much they hid from the rain, the cold November wind still found its way into the cavity, making Jaehwan's teeth chatter. He pulled up his knees and hugged them, trying to warm himself up a little, but his hoodie was drenched and nothing felt warm anymore. There was some rustling then and Sanghyuk took his jacket off, laying it on Jaehwan's shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Jaehwan asked, frowning.

“You seemed to be cold.”

“Yeah, but you’re going to catch a cold like that,” Jaehwan said, motioning at Sanghyuk's torso which was only clad in a T-shirt now.

“I’m a tough cookie, I’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” Jaehwan mumbled.

There was silence again and it stretched on as if it was meant to contrast the storm outside. Jaehwan had to admit that no matter how much he didn’t like Sanghyuk, it would have been a lot worse if he had got lost alone. He was grateful somewhat, but he didn’t want to tell Sanghyuk just yet. On the other hand, he probably wouldn’t have got lost if it hadn’t been for Sanghyuk.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Jaehwan looked at Sanghyuk who was worrying his lower lip between his teeth, goosebumps running over his bare arms. Jaehwan nodded.

“Why are you always so hostile to me?” Sanghyuk asked and he didn’t look embarrassed or sad—his eyes were clear and curious.

“Ah,” Jaehwan groaned, “is this when we make up and become best friends and the rain stops and we see rainbows and butterflies and live happily ever after?”

Sanghyuk laughed unhappily at that and shook his head, taking a stick from the ground and drawing circles into the mud with it. “Forget it,” he said.

“Okay,” Jaehwan sighed. “I can’t say no to kids with sad puppy eyes.”

“I’m 19!” Sanghyuk exclaimed. “I’m not a kid!”

Sure, Jaehwan knew that. In fact, he had first noticed Sanghyuk wasn’t a kid when they had run into each other on the corridor while Jaehwan had been on his way to the bathroom from where Sanghyuk had just appeared and another freshman thought it would be funny to pull the fluffy white towel Sanghyuk had been wearing around his hips off him. Sanghyuk had cursed while the other guy had run off, and Jaehwan had stood there, rooted to the spot and his eyes glued to Sanghyuk's dick (and later, when he had turned around to retrieve his towel, his ass).

The memory still made Jaehwan flush, and it very often featured in his wet dreams.

“I know you’re a drug dealer,” Jaehwan said, ever so straightforward so he would chase the memory of Sanghyuk's most treasured organs out of his head. “I saw you conducting your… business no less than six times in the last month.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember catching you lurking,” Sanghyuk replied rather scornfully.

“Yes, well, I needed evidence! I can’t let a criminal walk around campus, giving drugs to innocent people!”

“Why, what are you? An undercover cop?”

“And what if I am?”

“You’re being irrational,” Sanghyuk said. “God, Jaehwan, you can’t be so naïve. Has no one ever told you not to believe everything you see?”

“Hongbin told me you got into trouble with the police back in high school,” Jaehwan declared.

“When the mall security guard caught me stealing a lighter from a convenience store?” Sanghyuk raised his eyebrows.

“He didn’t know details,” Jaehwan muttered. “But still! You gave something in a plastic bag to Taekwoon at the Halloween party for which you got money from him, and then he disappeared and came back rubbing his nose like he had just snorted something.”

“That thing in the plastic bag was dry ice which he put into the punch bowl to spice up the party as one of the hosts!” Sanghyuk said indignantly. “I bought it for him from Professor Lee! And he had a cold!”

Jaehwan gaped like a fish, but couldn’t let Sanghyuk win. He felt his face heat up again and this time it wasn’t from a naughty memory.

“You gave something to a girl behind the Science building and told her not to show it to anyone,” Jaehwan continued listing Sanghyuk's crimes. “And then you took my coffee!”

“I gave her the answer keys I’d stolen from Professor Choi,” Sanghyuk sighed. “I’m sure you still remember how hard the first year Statistics final was. My entire group would’ve failed if I hadn’t stolen the answers and she’d heard I had them, so she asked me for them.”

“Nice story,” Jaehwan said sceptically. “What about Kim Wonshik and the library? I don’t see either of you there too often.”

“Okay, I admit—”

“I knew it!”

“—that that was part of my prank on you.”

“What?”

“I noticed you following me around,” Sanghyuk said and now he was smirking again with no trace of regret on his face. “I wanted to know how long it would take for you to confront me about acting shady—because yes, Hakyeon told Taekwoon you thought we were both shady. And if you’re curious about why Taekwoon and I hang out so often: he used to be my neighbour when we were children. We’re not friends with benefits.”

“These are bloody lies,” Jaehwan shook his head. “How should I know you’re not lying?”

“You don’t need to believe me,” Sanghyuk shrugged.

Jaehwan wanted to believe him. Sanghyuk kept looking him in the eye and Jaehwan wasn’t a very good judge of character, but he knew when someone was lying and Sanghyuk wasn’t. Maybe it was just Jaehwan being obsessed with him as Hakyeon had said; Sanghyuk was nice and Jaehwan was too eager to find something not to like about him, because liking him would have been too dangerous. He mystified Sanghyuk to the point he made himself believe Sanghyuk was the spawn of Satan, and it was so easy to feel disgusted with him while Jaehwan walked into his trap and noted down everything he found suspicious about Sanghyuk. He felt so stupid.

“Look, Jaehwan, I really like you,” Sanghyuk said, sounding honest. “And I don’t want you to hate me.”

Jaehwan's heart fluttered in his chest like a frantic bird, the heat in his cheeks almost making him sweat. He looked up at Sanghyuk and saw something different on him: Sanghyuk wasn’t smirking but he was smiling sadly. Jaehwan really wanted to kiss him.

And so he did.

Sanghyuk's lips were soft and warm like they were in Jaehwan's dreams, like when Jaehwan was daydreaming about him in boring classes, about the two of them cuddling on Jaehwan's bed. They weren’t anywhere near such a comfy surface now and it was extremely cold, but even through the shivers that ran through both of them, Jaehwan could enjoy the way Sanghyuk kissed him back, pulling him close. There was rainwater in their mouths and Sanghyuk's wet fringe was tickling Jaehwan's nose. He felt Sanghyuk's arm around his waist and Jaehwan soon found himself half in Sanghyuk's lap. He never wanted it to stop raining.

The ringing of Jaehwan's phone made them stop abruptly. Jaehwan's eyes widened from the realization that he was making out with Han Sanghyuk somewhere in a forest, sitting inside a rock like two cavemen. He quickly got off Sanghyuk (who looked lovely with the bridge of his fleshy nose dusted with pink) and answered the call.

“Hakyeon!” he yelled. “Where the fuck are you?!”

“We’re on the clearing, but where are you?! And where’s Sanghyuk? Everyone came back when it started raining, but you two—”

“I hate you, Hakyeon, I—”

Sanghyuk took the phone from Jaehwan. “Hey Hakyeon, this is Sanghyuk,” he said and twisted away from Jaehwan who tried to get his phone back. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. Okay. Bye.”

“I was about to lecture him,” Jaehwan grouched.

“You can lecture him as soon as we’re out of here.” Sanghyuk took out his own phone and opened the newly working map application. “Let’s go.”

The wind outside had subsided and it wasn’t raining as awfully as it had, the clouds in the sky becoming less dark as the sunshine tried to break through them. Sanghyuk took Jaehwan's hand and helped him up, climbing the rocks like he had been practising. Jaehwan followed him a bit clumsily. As soon as Jaehwan made it to the top of the rocks, Sanghyuk held his hand again, lacing their fingers almost shyly. He felt Sanghyuk trembling beside him as they walked in silence with Sanghyuk checking his phone every now and again.

“You know,” Sanghyuk said suddenly, “we could go grab coffee together sometime. I’ll buy you an iced coffee for the one I took from you.”

“I’m going to kick your ass if you buy me anything cold after we’re out of this icy hell.”

Sanghyuk laughed with his eyes crinkling and when Jaehwan wanted to let go of his hand as soon as they got to the edge of the clearing, Sanghyuk tightened his grip around his fingers.

Jaehwan felt himself smirk in the same way Sanghyuk always did.

Studying together for finals in the common room was a very, very bad idea.

Hakyeon kept chirping and whispering and chattering and giggling in Taekwoon's lap—he had climbed there like a child would climb into his parent’s lap.

“Can’t we just go to our room?” Jaehwan asked, looking up at Sanghyuk from where he rested his head on Sanghyuk's thighs.

Sanghyuk looked up from his Physics textbook, glancing first at Jaehwan's suffering expression and then at Taekwoon who looked like a frightened wild animal about to be eaten alive by an overly enthusiastic anaconda. Hakyeon was now kissing Taekwoon's cheek and Taekwoon forced a smile, patting Hakyeon's back. Jaehwan didn’t really understand the nature of their relationship yet, but he supposed if Taekwoon hadn’t run away in the last two months, he’d have enough time to figure out the two of them later.

“Okay, let’s go,” Sanghyuk said and closed his book, leaving it on the floor.

As soon as Jaehwan opened the door to his and Hakyeon's room, Sanghyuk took his shoes and socks off, putting one of said socks on the doorknob.

“We’re supposed to study, you idiot,” Jaehwan chastised him, but he wasn’t really serious.

“My original plan was to be a Biology major,” Sanghyuk said then, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he locked the door from the inside and stepped to Jaehwan, wrapping his arms around his middle and kissing along the column of Jaehwan's neck.

“And what happened?” Jaehwan chuckled, both because Sanghyuk was being cheesy and because his neck was very ticklish.

“I didn’t practise enough.”

Jaehwan burst out laughing as Sanghyuk pushed him down on the bed, his fingers crawling up under Jaehwan's shirt and tickling his side, making Jaehwan kick out in frustration and nearly die from laughter. Sanghyuk soon stopped tickling him—probably because he didn’t want to be kicked in the balls. He pulled back to look into Jaehwan's eyes, sweeping Jaehwan's hair out of his forehead.

“Jaehwan,” he called his name softly as if it was something sacred. Jaehwan's heart felt very happy about it.

“Hmm?”

“I can’t believe you thought I was a drug dealer.”

Jaehwan laughed again, because he expected something big—a confession, a compliment, maybe something vaguely sexy.

“I mean, I don’t even have money to buy food sometimes!” Sanghyuk exclaimed. “Shouldn’t I be super rich if I sold cocaine?”

Jaehwan was sure his giggling fit wouldn’t die down anytime soon, so he pushed Sanghyuk off himself, the boy laughing with him as they lay on the bed, Jaehwan curling up under Sanghyuk's arm and shaking with the suppressed noises of his laughter.

He wanted to stay there forever.

#vixx #ken #hyuk #hyuken #rating: pg13 #req #au #fluff #comedy

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shintaroux · 7 years

Text

ALL THE RIGHT MOVES

“Reo, this child is cheating.”

“He’s not cheating. No five-year-old can understand shogi, let alone play it.”

“I could.”

“You were all kinds of special, Sei-chan.”

Akashi gave a cross sideways glance to his friend, co-worker and employer Reo and then returned his attention to the shogi board just as the little boy with tawny, curly hair moved his pawn one square horizontally and then two squares vertically like it was no big deal; like he was not tainting the noble game of shogi.

“I won!” The boy exclaimed and pumped his fist into the air.

“No you didn’t, you just cheated.”

“Sei-chan,” Reo called in a faux gentle tone. Akashi sensed the implicit warning and let the boy run off and exult to other children about his barbaric victory.

Reo sat down on the floor next to Akashi and drew his knees towards his chest; like that, he looked a bit less lanky but still notably taller compared Akashi. Knowing what’s coming, Akashi busied himself with putting the shogi pieces back into their designated place on the board.

“Are you sure you’re doing alright, Sei-chan?”

There it was.

“I am fine, thank you.”

Reo sighed. “You can be so mulish sometimes.”

“I’m sure you meant resolute.”

“Well, you’re definitely resolutely avoiding talking to me about feelings. And stuff.”

The thing was, Akashi’s father had gone bankrupt and they had lost most majority of their property. Never had Akashi been faced with poverty and not having whatever he wanted and needed at his fingertips and it was taking him some time to adjust. He had moved in with Reo, he had started working at his kindergarten and he was adamant to adjust, finish college and work in his desired profession.

It was going to take some time and sacrifices but Akashi was going to deal with it, one step at a time; Rome wasn’t built in a day; even more so after it had been burned to the ground.

Akashi huffed and looked around the room.

“Reo, that child over there is drawing on the walls.”

“WHAT—”

Needless to say, working at a kindergarten was a painstaking process of looking for children who took a game of hide and seek way too seriously or who mistook walls for canvas or who put small items in their pocket, forgot about them and then caused an ordeal.

It was not the working environment Akashi had been striving for. But he had bills and college tuition to pay and for that he’d endure those children.

Those children who only ever heard him when he called them for lunch.

And who couldn’t play shogi for their life.

III

“Whoa~~ shogi?!”

Akashi lifted his gaze from the board which was, once again, figuratively defiled by the same child as few days again. Above him stood Ryouta, one of the few kids whose name Akashi remembered solely because of his model behaviour, with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Can you play?”

Ryouta grinned widely, revealing a missing milk tooth, and sat down facing Akashi.

“Yeah. Can I?”

“Of course.”

As if bracing himself, Ryouta tucked his golden hair behind his ears and took a deep breath, his rosy cheeks puffed; then he exhaled.

Twenty minutes later, Akashi was gaping at the state on the board.

Akashi had won, undoubtedly so, but not without having almost lost – twice.

“Aw, I lost,” Ryouta sighed and pursed his lips into a pout.

“Who taught you how to play?” Akashi asked. He deemed the idea of going easy on a child who was maturely accepting defeat unnecessary.

“My dad plays shogi a lot. I just copied what he does. But you’re very good, mister.”

“Is your father a professional shogi player?”

“No. He plays alone when he comes home from work.”

“I see.”

Whoever Ryouta’s father was, he was the closest to beating Akashi than anyone ever was – and he wasn’t even in the room when it almost happened.

Akashi’s interest was piqued.

The very same day, Akashi caught a glimpse of Ryouta’s father; he was a tall man of broad shoulders, clad in a neat-looking suit, with fair facial features, long eyelashes and high cheekbones. On the bridge of his nose sat a pair of glasses which completed the look a well-mannered professional.

He definitely looked like someone who, given half a chance, could beat him at shogi.

He definitely looked like a distraction.

“Reo, what do you know about Ryouta’s father?”

“Hm… Not much.”

After he replied, Reo continued poking at his pudding, lost in thought. Until he jumped in his seat, eyes widening.

“Why do you ask? Please don’t tell me you have decided to go down the thorny, self-destructive path of pining for an older man with a child?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Reo. My interest is purely of professional nature.”

Reo rolled his eyes once and continued: “Well then, his name is Midorima Shintarou. Let’s see, he’s an up-standing man who is currently working under his father at the clinic nearby. One day he’ll inherit it. He’s a pleasant man to talk to when he does in fact talk, but a bit too reserved and formal for my taste.”

“I see.”

“Just promise me you won’t do anything embarrassing enough that I’d have to relocate my kindergarten into another district.”

“Reo…”

Midorima Shintarou was before him.

Akashi took it as his noble mission to find something wrong with the man. He started with picking at Midorima’s emerald hair, but every strand was in its place and strangely so considering that it was the end of the work day and he had come by to pick up Ryouta. Akashi’s eyes travelled down the seams of Midorima’s grey suit, but not a single crease disrupting the well-polished look. Midorima’s hands were well-cared for, nothing but smooth-looking skin and long, bony fingers.

He looked like a worthy opponent.

“Please refrain from looking at me like that; my child is here,” Midorima said, breaking Akashi’s concentration.

“Looking at you, how?” Akashi feigned innocence as he removed his thumb from his chin.

Midorima pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose which almost – almost – successfully hid the smirk on his face. “You know very well what I mean.”

“Allow me to cut to the chase, sir, I’d love to play shogi with you,” he spoke in a way that would send Reo’s eyes rolling.

“Play shogi with me?” Midorima repeated, the crease in his brow becoming apparent.

“Not just play – win.”

Midorima’s lips quirked in amusement. “You are ten years too early to win against me.”

“I’d very much like to try.”

Akashi flashed him his finest challenging look and for a while they simply stared at each other like wild animals stuck in resin, unable to move until they’re both suffused with thick tension until one of them suffocated.

It was then that Ryouta impatiently pulled at his father’s sleeve and dragged his attention away from Akashi.

“Dad, I want a bath.”

Midorima broke eye contact, nodded and patted Ryouta’s head.

“I’ll come by a bit earlier tomorrow,” he said and started for the exit. “I hope it will be worth it.”

“That I promise you.”

VII

Ryouta’s ‘brooom, broom’ in the adjacent room were the only sounds permeating the thick, tense air; a completely unfit background music for two enemies locked in a battle happening on the flat board on the table.

Akashi leaned in, his elbows on the table, interlocked his fingers and hid his quivering lip behind them. The odds were not in his favour.

Midorima sat upright in his chair, shoulders straight and observed every Akashi’s movement as if he were a guinea pig.

Akashi moved a piece on the board; the first time he had ever doubted his decision.

Midorima took a couple of seconds to assess to situation before he moved his piece. Then he leaned back at last, his lips stretching into a humble smile.

“I win.”

It wasn’t as dramatic as in the movies, losing. That was a lot like having time freeze on you while you replay the same moment over and over again wishing you could’ve made a different call. And to Akashi, it felt like that very time strangled something – somebody – inside of him and locked his lifeless body away.

“You are good. But skill alone cannot beat experience,” said Midorima, showing concern in his creased brow.

Akashi wordlessly stared at him, unblinking.

“If I were your age, you would’ve won.”

Akashi had yet to find his voice.

“So, I have enough time for one more round. Do you want to go?”

Akashi’s silence seemed interminable.

Midorima didn’t appear to be fazed by it. “A famous scientist once said that the only source of knowledge is experience. I think it was something that—“

“Albert Einstein.”

“—said.” Midorima smiled briefly and fixed his glasses. “Right. So, another round?”

“Yes.”

VIII

It had become a routine. In the mornings and evenings, Midorima and Akashi played one round in the back room of the kindergarten. Reo threw a knowing glance in Akashi’s way every once in a while but he never rebuked him. Ryouta sometimes watched them play, in awe, as if a battle of epic proportions had been playing out before his widened, golden eyes.

Akashi aced all his classes. Loss in one field meant you were lacking in many others so he tried to make up for all his faults thinking that this would lead him to victory.

And two weeks after their shogi matches, Akashi still hadn’t won once.

He had analyzed and observed every move Midorima made; he had been over-thinking above and below, behind and forwards – but all in vain.

He felt like a would-be emperor who fell short just before he reached the crown.

However, the real problem arose when he no longer only wanted the crown but the person who was wearing it.

Midorima Shintarou.

“Reo, I might’ve miscalculated. My interest in Ryouta’s father may be more than professional.”

Reo stared vacantly at Akashi for a few moments, as if he were absorbing the information and replaying it in his mind, before he clasped his hands together. “My prayers go to Midorima Shintarou.”

Akashi sighed exasperatedly. “Reo…”

Akashi had learned three things through Ryouta.

One, he only saw his mother on the weekends; that was her time with him.

Two, Midorima had a hidden drawer in his closet where he kept obscure, useless items that were valuable for one day only and depended solely on the horoscope.

Three, he never brought anyone home. Not friends, not colleague, not anyone.

“That’s odd. You rarely study this late,” Reo commented and placed a hot cup of cocoa on Akashi’s desk.

Akashi took a small sip and winced as the liquid burned his tongue.

“You know, Reo,” Akashi said, ignoring Reo’s comment, “I’m starting to really like this job.”

Reo crossed his arms but he wasn’t mad; his mouth was smiling. “I hate to break it to you, but your job isn’t flirting with hot dads. You’re also fairly miserable at it.”

“Reo…”

XII

It was morning and Ryouta was playing with Reo in the next room. Akashi could hear the clacking of wooden toy cars. Its distant thumping, like some sort of a countdown, kept him in present and helped ease the drowsiness away.

His senses were dull. He barely got a wink of sleep last night.

This is why Akashi Seijurou didn’t do all-nighters; all-nighters did him in.

Midorima was sitting in front of him, observing the board, not paying attention to Akashi in the slightest; the stagnant, wooden pieces seemed to be more interesting. It irked him to his very marrow.

“Haven’t slept well?” Midorima spoke in a gravelly voice as if he wanted to rouse Akashi from his daydream, but his emerald eyes still glued to the board. Then he moved his piece.

Akashi suppressed a yawn.

“Yes, I was revising for an exam.”

“Exams are important but your health should come first.”

Akashi forced a smile. “Of course, doctor.”

When Midorima lifted his head, and their eyes met, something overcame Akashi.

He felt like certain things could be forgiven if he felt like he was in a dream. That’s why he lifted his leg off the ground and let his foot find its way to Midorima’s calf. Midorima’s eyes flickered immediately, he caught on. Akashi lazily dragged his foot up and down Midorima’s calf; he was testing the waters.

Midorima, aside from the crack between his brows, showed no sign of distress as if he was expecting Akashi to do this. Then he harrumphed loudly, purposefully.

“Focus on the game, Akashi.”

“I am. Life is a game, and I’m making my move.”

Midorima’s eyes flitted from Akashi’s face to what was happening below the table. He didn’t make a move to discourage Akashi’s foot.

“You knew it from the first day yet you kept coming back to play with me. You were also making your move,” Akashi stated simply.

Midorima fell back into his chair, a shameless smile now playing on his face. It made the wrinkles underneath his eyes all the more visible. And charming, Akashi thought.

“You have to understand why I have my doubts. The age gap, your fixation on victory, my son.”

Akashi interlaced his fingers, a nervous habit when he tried to keep the situation under his control.

“I understand. But I also understand that I’m willing to give it a shot. If you’re willing to as well.”

A brief exchange of a glance, that was all it took, and Akashi already knew the answer.

But Midorima wasn’t going to hand it to him for free.

His eyes flicked towards the wall clock and he darted upwards, fixing his uniform. “I have to go to work.”

Akashi followed him as he started for the doors. “Is that a yes?” Akashi had to hear it, after all.

Midorima halted his step. He threw a furtive glance through the half-open doors and then pushed Akashi into the wall. As he towered above him, Akashi realized why he never had a chance.

Akashi looked up into the flutter of Midorima’s thick, long lashes and saw hesitation trying to overpower determination. It was such an absurd struggle that Akashi couldn’t help placing his hands on Midorima’s cheeks.

“It must be hard to be a model adult.”

Midorima smirked. “Brats like you aren’t making it any easier.” With that, Midorima leaned in and placed a brief kiss on Akashi’s dry lips.

“Dinner, my place, this weekend. I’ll pick you up. How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect.”

XIII

“I got a date,” Akashi said as a badly scribbled image of a dinosaur started at him.

A smile flickered on Reo’s face for a moment before it was replaced by childish exasperation. “I’m happy for you. Now get down to scrubbing this wall.”

#midoaka #knb

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