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bisexualbuck · 4 years

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911 & Buddie Fic Rec

I’ve been reading a lot of fics lately as I pretend that nothing is happening in the world, and so I’ve put up a list of a few that have stuck with me.

Don’t forget to leave them a comment! They’re all amazing and they deserve it.

Let’s spread some positivity around here!

In no particular order

Knocking On Heaven’s Door by MomentsOfWeakness

Summary: Buck isn’t sure where he is. The last thing he remembers was being out on a call. Now he’s here, in a place he has never seen before surrounded by people he doesn't know. It's bright. That's all he can really tell.

Based on a Tumblr prompt where someone asked for Buck and Chris both ending up in purgatory at the same time before they ever met in life. Buck has a ticket back to the living world but he gives it to Chris who is supposed to die. An old man, seeing what Buck did for Chris, decides to give his own ticket for the living world to Buck, because the world needs more people like him.

Personal opinion: This is just so good. It’s so well-written it almost reads like poetry.

Eddie Diaz and the Cat-astrophe at the 118 by SquaresAreNotCircles

Summary: It’s Chimney who rescues her from the tree, but it’s Bobby’s arms that she curls up in on the drive over to the vet to get her checked out. Right from the start, it’s as if she knows who she needs to cozy up with to secure her spot at the station.

“Come on, that’s crazy,” Buck says, but he does so while laughing not at Eddie, but at the grey tabby cat trying to get her claws on the fake mouse on a string that Buck bought with his own money, so Eddie doesn’t put too much stock in his opinion.

Or: The firefam adopts a mascot and Eddie has a minor crisis about it.

Personal opinion: This is just too sweet and too funny!!

Whatever you say, Buck by nanasteiger

Summary: Tumblr prompt: I'd love to see a fic where they start dating but decide to keep it private for a bit, except literally everybody knows because they're not secretive at all and everybody catches them here and there kissing or being affectionate with each other.

The first one to talk about it was, and it wasn’t really a surprise, Captain Nash. “So,” he said, approaching him in the locker room, “what’s going on between you and Diaz?”

Personal opinion: The softness... unparalleled.

Love Language by red_to_black

Summary: The one in which there's too much pollen around, Eddie pines, and Buck is oblivious.

Or - Eddie's love language is acts of service, and Buck doesn't totally get it.

Personal opinion: I have melted... too good!!

a leaf falls on loneliness by iimpossible_things

Summary: Buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “I’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. Really, he doesn’t. The 118 has too many good, kind people for that.

But every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to Eddie or Bobby or Hen or Chim, he hears Eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.”

—you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting—

So each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence.

Personal opinion: Y’all. Just - do yourself a favor and read this. A masterpiece!! Just *chefs kiss*

dying lol by itsmylifekay

Summary: Based on the meme: i'm dying lol

Buck is...Buck. And that means chaos, angst, laughs, and pining over Eddie. Bobby just wants his son to stop ending up in the hospital. Enjoy.

Personal opinion: I have no words to say how much I love this

i want your heart (i hope you do too) by chocobos

Summary: Buck can’t stop thinking about those words, about the way Eddie had said them, eyes open wide and earnest, hand searing a hole into his shoulder, never once breaking contact with him in any regard.

Personal opinion: One of my favorite fics in this fandom

Roll Down This Unfamiliar Road by altschmerzes

Summary: The big 'welcome to the family, sorry I tried to shut you out of it' dinner at Eddie's winds down, and Chimney decides it's time for him - and Albert - to go home. But, as he stands there and looks at his kid brother, half dozing off sitting at Eddie's dining room table, Chimney finds himself frozen, plagued by sudden doubt. What if he's not cut out for this?

It's Buck, of all people, who's there with an answer.

Personal opinion: This is a Chimney-centric fic and it’s an absolutely gorgeous piece.

a diary highlighting dysfunction (adhd) by @evaneddie

Summary: adhd!buck - headcanons into loosely linked one shots

Personal opinion: I’ve just reread just now and wow... still amazing... chefs kiss

I still don’t know my heart by attolians @getbvcked

Summary: I am SEVERELY late for Evan Buckley Week so I rolled these prompts into one fic! • March 23rd - Day 1: “That’s my family.” + fluff • March 24th - Day 2: “Why are you naked?” + fun • March 25th - Day 3: “Please don’t close your eyes!” + hurt • March 26th - Day 4: “You want to marry me?” + love • March 27th - Day 5: “You’re a good liar.” + comfort • March 28th - Day 6: “I won’t let you do this.” + angst

Personal opinion: As I said before, we’re here living in 2020 while Amber’s living in 3020... The genius *chefs kiss*

(hurt) thy neighbor by autumnchills

Summary: “He’s armed,” is all he says into the phone before standing from his spot. He shoves his phone into his pocket and steps out, hands raised. Sure enough, the man has a gun pointed at him, but if he looks closely enough… Buck squints. Color him surprised. “Is that you—” “Don’t!” The man yells, jerking his hand with the gun aggressively. “Don’t you dare fucking say my name, Buckley.”

— In which things get bad fast when Buck's neighbor breaks into his apartment thinking that he isn't home.

Personal opinion: You need to read all of autumnchills’ work actually because guess what... chefs kiss!!!

(There’s) No Time Like The Present by NobodyKnows_U

Summary: "Marry me."

The words flew out of his mouth before he could fully comprehend what he was doing. It came out as a shaken whisper, but everything around seemed to go hopelessly silent. He's pretty sure he heard a few choked gasps but all he could focus on was Buck.

Or, Buck nearly dies saving a baby during a call and Eddie ends up asking Buck to marry him.

Personal opinion: I cried, this is just gorgeous.

5-4-3-2-1 by elisela

Summary: For all the times that Eddie has practiced getting into his turnout suit in record time, he never bothered figuring out how to get out of it just as fast. He would be regretting that if he could think about anything other than the fact that Buck went over the pier rail twenty-six seconds ago, and disappeared into the dark water seventeen seconds ago.

Personal opinion: The intensity... The talent... I’m speechless.

what a man gotta do? (to be your last good night and your first good day) by diazevan

Summary: He is gonna woo Eddie. He is gonna woo him so fucking hard that the other man has no other choice but to be his boyfriend and declare his eternal love for him. Buck is gonna be that good.

Buck is the best boyfriend and he doesn't even know it.

Personal opinion: Soft!! Cute!! I’m !!!!!!

Won’t Be Lost Forever by @lionheartedghost

Summary: “Bobby said you wouldn’t talk to him last time he came in.” The chair by the side of the bed scraped back against the linoleum. “You want to tell me what’s going on?” Buck opened his eyes. Eddie looked patiently back at him, passing a hospital canteen cup of coffee back and forth between his hands. “I won’t let you do this,” Eddie said when he didn’t answer, setting the paper cup on the little table beside him. “I won’t let you shut us out.”

Eddie helps Buck with his recovery following the ladder truck incident.Written for Evan Buckley Week, Day 6: "“I won’t let you do this.” + angst

Personal opinion: I’m overwhelmed by so much perfection what the hell

I also want to give a shout-out to @eddiedeaz because her fics for the Evan Buckley Week were, you guessed it, *chefs kiss*

#911 #911 fic #buddie #firefam #this took me forever but worth it #there's so much greatness in this fandom #please tell me if i messed up somewhere with the links or the usernames or the titles or anything #my post

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essaysbyciara · 5 years

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Thy Neighbor (Chapter 10)

[Chapter 1][Chapter 2][Chapter 3][Chapter 4][Chapter 5 + 6][Chapter 7 + 8][Chapter 9]

Hey, beautifuls! Here’s chapter 10. Chapter 11 -- and possibly chapter 12 -- is coming today (3/31) as well. Check the tags and as always, if you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know! XOXO.

“And this is our food pantry and kitchen. We teach children how to cook meals. We’ve been blessed by the donations from local restaurants. Time and tools. It’s amazing”

“This is amazing. Incredible.”

The hallways Trevante and Hampton Scott, the director of Proverbs, are walking down remind Trevante of his high school days galavanting the halls, cutting class to hit the gym for a quick weightlifting session. So many hiding spots, so many teachers ready to cut him a break if they won a playoff game or, even better, a state championship.

Trevante couldn’t pay much attention to school with football on his heart plus his father’s behavior at home. But without the game he loved, he would have dropped out. And who know what would have happened to him then.

As Trevante roams inside the makeshift playroom for the kids, he spots a tall and lanky boy, same complexion as him, reading a book in the corner, ignoring all of his friends playing with action figures and toys. Staring intensely in a book, the boy only breaks his reading stride when he lifts up his right hand to adjust his glasses, a pair a little too big for his prepubescent face.

Trevante smiles. He misses his glasses. He started wearing contacts to fit in -- so stuck on perfecting his appearance that he ditched his second set of eyes. No one knew that his sunglasses were prescription though.

“The city needs this, Hampton. I needed this.”

“You’re a military kid?”

“Yeah. My father. Iraq. Just passed.”

“Prayers to you and your family.”

Trevante reluctantly says thanks. Tre’s family wasn’t religious, only going to church on Easter and Christmas Eve because his grandmother would have a fit if they stayed at home. Although he believed in a higher power, he failed to see how that power impacted his life -- especially since tragedy was always around the corner. He couldn’t understand the optimism beside the chaos and taciturn response to tragedy. It just never made sense with the rigidity of Trevante’s life.

“Are you a believer?”

Tre bristles at the question. Hampton notices his reaction. “Hey, man. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I ain’t ask you, now..”

Trevante gingerly laughs, smiles and shakes his head. “Respect.”

“Look, I want you meet my director of outreach. He’ll be overseeing the staff in the Philadelphia location.”

Trevante and Hampton walk into a makeshift conference room.

“Trevante. I want you to meet Y’lan Noel, our site director here Philadelphia.” Trevante and Y’lan shake hands. As they both take seats the long teacher’s desk turned conference room table, Hampton steps out to give them some privacy.

“Y’lan, this program would be such an asset to the city.”

“Yeah, man. I agree. I’m glad to be leading the way.”

Proverbs was not meant to be the final destination for Y’lan. After he left Ciara, he found his way to Camden, New Jersey, into the arms of another woman. And into an engagement. He didn’t want to move fast but he remembered the last time he took his time with a woman he loved.

Although he never expressed it, he loved Ciara. Or felt that energy. He never committed due to his fears of failure. He always did the right thing, always walked the straight and narrow. In his mind, dating Ciara wasn’t that. It was taking a risk, it was calling attention to his love life in a way that he didn’t want. It was him walking away from a high school sweetheart and supposed future wife.

Y’lan couldn’t let his high school love go. Every Sunday, he sat in her father’s church, always in the second pew, and watched as his girlfriend directed the children choir. She’s the pastor daughter, he was the aspiring minister. On paper it all made sense in a community where making sense was the only way to go.

He couldn’t tell Ciara that the only reason why he couldn’t have sex with her was because he promised himself to his future wife. They made that promise in spirit and in word, Tisha writing texts about how she couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Noel so that they could experience that moment together. Tisha was heartbroken when he told her that she wasn’t going to be his first. But she forgave him. That was before her, she thought.

It wasn’t.

Although he played committed to Tisha and homie-lover-friend to Ciara, Y’lan’s phone was riddled with text messages from other girls. Saved and not. It was easy to watch a movie with Tisha and not try anything when you just came from -- and in -- some girl. He could leave her apartment unscathed when he knew he could call so-and-so and such-and-such from whatever campus ministry. He thought he hid it well until one of his friends call him out on it. He vowed to get his act together.

When Y’lan met Ciara, he threw himself into a storm. She was a healthy mix of the late night mistakes and the life he wanted to live.

She was everything that Tisha wasn’t. She was rebellious. She had one foot in the culture. She prefered hip hop over hymns. She oozed sexuality in a culture that preached to be chaste. But she had a sense of morality to her. She was a Theology student, could throw out a Bible quote with the quickness. She thought promise rings were asinine.

Y’lan would take his off when he would see her. Even though that ring was on the right hand of a lie.

When Ciara would ask if she could go to his church before brunch, he told her no because he was too busy helping with staff -- and trying to avoid conflict. When Ciara showed up unannounced one Sunday, he panicked. He didn’t answer her texts asking where he was, later elling her that he took that Sunday off. He hid in the music room for the entire service.

Shame racked him once his girlfriend’s father pulled him aside to ask him, jokingly, if he was ever going to marry his daughter. Though it was laced in a joke, he knew her father wasn’t kidding. He had to make a decision. He was about to choose a seminary, he was thinking about moving away. But he needed to choose.

So when he walked into Ciara’s apartment to spend time with her as she packed for Spring Break, his sabotaging ways came into play. Instead of telling her the truth of why he couldn’t commit and didn’t want to visit Maryland with her, he ruins their relationship. But he didn’t want to leave that way. He wanted for them to have that one moment that eluded them since they met. He wanted to cap off their relationship. He wanted to share something with her that would have been special.

He experienced grace when Ciara said no. It was the right answer. It was divine intervention.

As soon as he left her apartment, he felt a nasty mix of guilt and relief. He could finally move on with his life and do the right thing. He called his girlfriend’s father and officially asked for her hand in marriage.

He quit his work in Philadelphia and transferred over to a program in South Jersey, staying in his future father-in-law’s basement. He started looking for apartments, she started booking vendors. But then that changed.

“We need to talk.”

Those harrowing words weighted on him as he walked to his fiancee’s apartment. He knew the game was over.

“I’ve been praying, Y’lan, and…” Tisha’s words cracking as she spoke. “I knew that I needed to place our relationship in front of God. I knew this moment would be the right time to do that. I just wasn’t expected the answer I got.”

Y’lan exhales, knowing the response.

“We’re not ready for this. You’re not ready for this.”

Y’lan felt cold. He didn’t know how much he was pushing off the idea of walking away. He thought that by righting the ship everything would be okay. He thought to keep that secret in his heart but Tisha saw right through it. He knew. She knew. They needed to reconcile with that.

Y’lan started looking for apartments for himself. He left her father’s church and started working for Proverbs as a recruiter. Hampton was impressed with his adaptability that he promoted Y’lan to director of outreach in less than a year. When Proverbs decided to open a Philadelphia office, he knew Y’lan would be the one to tap for the project.

Y’lan was so excited. A chance to work in the city. A chance to network with churches and the community. But when he learned that the staff offices would be a block away from Penn’s campus, he started to shake with fear.

Would he run into Ciara? Would he have to walk to the other way again? Avoid their favorite coffee place? What would happen if he saw her? Those thoughts slowly started to cascade his mind as he spoke with Trevante about the vision for the Philadelphia program.

“So what do you think, Y’lan?” Trevante asks.

“I love it, man. Let’s roll with it.”

Trevante and Y’lan dap each other up as Hampton walks into the room. As Trevante is gathering his things, an idea comes to his mind.

“I have a friend who works for an organization named Protestant Placements. They place students at organizations like yours across the Philly area. You okay if I connect you two?”

“Absolutely.”

taglist: @blackpinup22 @voyagetoadinas9

#trevante rhodes x fanfiction #Trevante Rhodes #Y'Lan Noel #fanfic #thy neighbor

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toooceanblue · 6 years

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MeetCute(?) and Fall

Soul Evans was doing fine, thank you very much.

He’d been living by himself for nearly a week (though arguable not in the best part of town), and had already paid for his first month of rent with what he had saved up before leaving his parents. He had gotten a job as a prep cook at a fairly nice place that his parents had never even heard of, and had just cashed in his bi-monthly paycheck, which should cover groceries and a decent chunk of next month’s rent. So he was doing great, actually, superb, and he hadn’t needed help from his parents, or his brother. No, Soul Evans was a fully functioning adult in society, all on his own.

He patted his hand over his right pocket, feeling his wallet there. When he got home, he was definitely treating himself. Maybe after buying groceries, though. And stashing whatever money was leftover somewhere safe until rent was due.

Soul continued walking down the starting-to-be-familiar street to his apartment, noting the buildings around him. There was a tattoo parlour on his right, which would definitely come in handy, if his parents made him want to do something impulsive to piss them off. At the end of the street was a gas station and corner store, a place he’d already become familiar with considering he’d been living on instant ramen and donuts for the past week. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to stop there anytime soon after picking up groceries. What food was he even supposed to buy to be an adult?

Suddenly something hit Soul’s shoulder, hard, and he had already raised his opposite hand to the would-be injury by the time his eyes zeroed in on the culprit. A tiny girl (far too tiny, he would have thought, to have such an impact) had sprinted past him, was still sprinting down the sidewalk like she was running the last leg of a relay. His brain didn’t have time to ponder what she might be thinking when she grabbed a dark-haired stranger by the jacket and yanked him back, landing him flat on his ass. What the hell?

The stranger tried to shove the girl off but she kept him subdued, shoving her hand into his coat pocket and pulling out a wallet with a scowl. It was then Soul finally realized that the man must have taken her wallet, and she’d had to run him down to retrieve it. At least, he thought that must have been what happened, until the girl let the man go and started making her way back in his direction, holding up the wallet and holding his stare with a friendly smile that did not at all match the feats of physical prowess he had just witnessed.

She had nearly reached him when he finally recognized the generic leather square, and shot his hand down to check his right pocket. Shit.

The girl was out of breath, stray hair from her-sandy-blonde pigtails sticking to her neck. “Hey,” she greeted, like they were at some sort of freshman orientation and not in the middle of the street in a not-so-nice-neighborhood that as of recently happened to be his own. “You got this nabbed.”

Soul was so glad he didn’t blush. “Uh, thanks.” He reached out and accepted his wallet, sheepishly shoving it back in his own pocket.

“You should really be more careful.”

God this was embarrassing. He was being told off by a girl in pigtails. “I- uh. Yeah. Sorry.”

She was smiling again though, bright as day, teeth showing and green eyes crinkling. She was actually smiling at him, the idiot who’d just gotten pick-pocketed without even realizing it. “Don’t be. You’re new around here right?”

Soul grimaced. “How could you tell?”

The girl shrugged. “I live nearby too, and you’re kinda hard to miss.” She held out her hand, standing up straight and proud. “I’m Maka.”

He slinked his own hand out of his pocket and took hers. “Soul. Thanks for uh. Getting my wallet.”

“No problem. Do you need me to walk you home?”

“Oh, uh,” Why why why was she being so friendly. Not that he minded. It was just unusual. “My apartment is actually just around the corner so.” He gestured ahead on them where the sidewalk curved right around the line of buildings.

Maka glanced back. “Oh. That’s mine too.” She turned her attention back to him and shrugged. “I’m headed home anyway.”

“Uh, okay. Lets-go then?”

She bounded next to him, somehow simultaneously matching his lousy pace, and immediately turned up the small talk. “I’m training to be a police officer, you know, so chasing that guy down really isn’t that big of a deal. What do you do?”

“I’m a prepcook.” “Really? I can’t cook for the life of me, uness you count breakfast. Where do you work?”

“Uh, Sauteed Shinigami?” It really wasn’t that weird a name, considering they lived in a place called Death City.

Maks’s face soured. “My papa loves it there.”

Soul grinned uncomfortably. “I take it you don’t?”

“Oh no, I like it fine. Wish my dad didn’t, though.”

They had already reached their apartment building.Soul stepped into the lobby, holding open the door for Maka- his parents had their faults but they didn’t raise him without manners thank you very much- before starting towards the elevator and pressing the button. “So, what floor are you on?” he turned to face her, but she had already made it far to the left, right in front of the stairwell.

“I’m on the fourth floor, but I take the stairs.” She smiled and offered him a wave. “I’ll see you around, Soul!” she said, before she disappeared up the stairs.

The fourth floor. He was on the third.Which in theory was a good thing. He wasn’t sure his heart could handle running into her again immediately after departure.

The empty elevator opened, and he stepped in, pressing the faded 3 and watching for the doors to close. Up the floor went, and Soul took a deep breath. At least he had a neighbor now, no matter how jarring. Then again, maybe it would be better if she forgot their interaction altogether, and he could live on without remembering their embarrassing first meeting. She seemed like thy type to have friendly interactions with lost strangers a lot. Unfortunately, she also seemed the type who wouldn’t so easily forget them. The elevator doors opened. Maka was standing there, waiting.

How and why the hell-

But she was already shoving a small strip of paper into his hands. “In case you get lost or something. Or need a friend.”

Before Soul could process, she promptly dashed off, presumably to finish her stair-jog to her own apartment. He uncurled his fist, and it was a phone number, of course it was.

Did he just get a girl’s phone number within five-minutes of getting pickpocketed right in front of her? And subsequently getting saved by her?

Nevermind that, who still wrote phone numbers on pieces of paper?

Soul staggered his way to his apartment, unlocking it with the key that had thankfully not been nabbed. He dropped down into the beat-up arm chair he’d gotten second hand from his friend Liz and glanced at the slip of paper. There was sweat on it.

Soul sighed and took out his phone, texting the number.

Hey. It’s Soul.

Her response dinged within the minute.

Hey. Its Maka :)

Maka with a smiley face. Soul groaned and rested his phone over his chest. Whether his heart was beating from the trek home/social interaction or some terrible kind of instant crush he didn’t know. Did he even want to think about it?

Soul glanced at the text again. Hey. It’s Maka :). He let his head fall back against the chair. What had he gotten himself into?

#no one asked for this but I saw a prompt somewhere and had to #soma #soul eater #soulxmaka #soul evans #maka albarn #se #mywriting

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escarghosting · 6 years

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Hello hello @eli-and-fictional-sons!! Coincidentally, I was also your secret santa for the @vncsecretsanta! Here’s you’re gift; it’s sort of a college au, but there’s hardly any mention if college so *shrugs* I had fun writing it! This is my first fic for vnc so if either of them seem ooc, that’s why lol. Hope you enjoy it! Happy new years!

Title: Love Thy Neighbor

Rating: T, mostly for swearing

Word count: 1536

Summary: Vanitas really doesn’t like his neighbor. Really. No matter how attractive he may be. So why exactly does he agree let him use his shower?

Vanitas really…didn’t like his next door neighbor.

Noe was his name. Ever since the guy moved in, there was always something the other did that pissed them off. It all started when Noe started parking in Vanitas’ spot. No matter how often he yelled at him about it, Noe still managed to park in his spot at least once a week. Things just went downhill from there.

At some point in the past 5 months of living next to each other, Vanitas started going out of his way to piss Noe off; his favorite was playing loud music early in the morning, because Noe was nothing but grumpy without at least 8 hours of sleep. Yes, Vanitas was that petty.

But what really peeved Vanitas about Noe is how…perfect he was. When Vanitas wasn’t doing things to annoy him, Noe was actually pretty nice. He gave Vanitas rides sometimes when the weather was too bad to take his bike (although music in the car was another source of tension between them), and he checked up on him often to make sure he was eating and sleeping well, because “no one should look as dead as you do” (which, unsurprisingly, aggravated Vanitas to no end). He was naïve, but it was kind of endearing. Sometimes.

He was also fine as hell, not that Vanitas would ever admit it. Tall, well-built, pretty eyes, and to-the point about everything. Noe might as well be the man of Vanitas’ dreams, and he hated it.

…Okay, maybe he had a teeny tiny crush.

It didn’t matter anyway, nothing would ever come of it. Why would Noe ever like him back? All Vanitas did was purposefully annoy him. Most of their conversations consisted of pointed glares and hardly contained anger, mostly from Vanitas. Noe deserved to be with someone much better than him.

‘Maybe you guys just need to get together, let out that awkward sexual tension. I bet you that’s the reason you’re always so cranky with each other, idiot.’

Vanitas slammed the butter knife down on the counter. Screw Dante and his stupid advice! What did he know anyway? He was just some baldy with as much romance experience as a doormat. That was the last thing he needed to be thinking about right now. He stared down at his unfinished peanut butter sandwich. He couldn’t eat now, he was too bitter. Maybe I’ll just take a hot shower and lay down for the night, he thought. It wasn’t even 9:00, but there’s nothing wrong with a little extra sleep, right? In fact, Noe would probably be proud—

Ohhh, no. That thought was going to end right there. Vanitas dragged himself to the bathroom—which wasn’t very far in this tiny apartment—but before he could turn on the faucet, there was a knock at the door.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Who could possibly be knocking at this hour?” Vanitas muttered angrily. He was in no mood to humor anyone for anything. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Vanitas stomped over to the door and flung it open. “This had better be impor—”

Standing in the hallway was none other than Noe himself. He was holding a towel and a hair brush in one arm, dressed in his loose white pajamas. The look on his face was awkward and somewhat...pained?

Vanitas couldn’t stop himself from admiring the other man. The way strands of white hair fell into his face, or how his shirt hugged his broad shoulders...

Stooooooop!

“What do you want? This had better be important, Noe,” he spat.

Noe pursed his lips. “I need to use your shower.”

“…Why can’t you use yours?” At this Noe shuffled his feet, looking anywhere but Vanitas. Was he… embarrassed?

“You see,” he started, “I may have tripped over Murr heading to the shower, and ripped the shower head from the wall trying to catch myself.”

Vanitas just stared. Of course Noe would manage to do something like that.

Thinking it over, he supposed there was no harm in letting him in. Call it payback for all the times Noe’s helped him. It was a little annoying that he’d have to let Noe take one first, but the was no way he was waiting around Vanitas’ apartment until he was done. Besides, this way he could take as long as he wanted.

“I guess,” he sighed, stepping aside to let him in. He swore Noe had stars in his eyes when he thanked him. Weirdo.

Noe stepped in to the apartment, looking around like he’d never been in there before. “Our showers are probably the same,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “So I don’t think I have to help you—hey! Don’t touch that!”

Vanitas was an art student, but since he and Noe weren’t friends, the other had never seen anything Vanitas had made. He had been working on a minimalist human sculpture for a class earlier, and must’ve forgotten to put it away because Noe was about to pick it up good lord.

He grabbed Noe’s arm before he could touch it, glaring at him. “It’s wet! I don’t need you squishing it with your inhuman strength!”

Noe blinked at him. “Oh. Sorry. I’ve never seen someone make something like this before, I wanted to know what it felt like. You’re really good at this!”

So naïve but so cute. Noe was practically sparkling. He didn’t say anything he didn’t mean; he really thought Vanitas’ half-assed sculpture was cool. Vanitas could feel the annoyance drain from him with every second.

“Whatever. Just go take your shower. You have 10 minutes!”

“Sure, but you’re gonna have to let go of me first, Vanitas.”

Vanitas blinked. He was still holding Noe’s arm. And when did they get so close? Vanitas (very calmly, mind you) let go and stepped back, clearing his throat. “Right.”

Noe nodded and headed to the bathroom. “And don’t touch anything you don’t need to!” Vanitas called after him.

As soon as the door shut, Vanitas was on the couch, internally screaming at himself. How could he be more awkward! All he did was grab his arm! Nothing weird about that. It was the first time he’d ever actually touched Noe though, and he was every bit as muscular as he looked, god damn. It would be a while before he’d forget about that discovery.

By the time the ten minutes were up, Vanitas had mostly gotten himself together. Enough to realize the shower was still running. He got up and banged on the bathroom door. “Noe! Come on! You better not use up all my hot water, I swear.”

The shower quickly shut off, followed by scrambled footsteps. ‘Please don’t slip, I don’t need you breaking my shower, too,’ he hoped.

A minute later, the door opened, and Vanitas thought he actually might die that night.

The first thing he noticed was Noe’s hair. He’d never seen it so curly. In hindsight, it only made sense; Noe’s hair shouldn’t have been that straight. He just couldn’t picture Noe using a straightener without severely burning himself. (Then again, no one should have white hair at 19, so could you really blame him?) It was still soaking wet, dripping down into the towel around his neck.

The next thing he noticed was that Noe Archiviste was shirtless and dripping wet in his apartment.

He just couldn’t catch a break, could he.

Vanitas had never been more grateful for his amazing poker face, because if he was, he’d probably look like a firetruck right then. “It’s about time,” he grumbled, pointedly looking away from Noe. He was dense, but there’s no way he wouldn’t notice Vanitas all but drooling over his body.

“Sorry Vanitas, guess I lost track of time.” Vanitas hummed in acknowledgement. Suddenly, his face was in Vanitas’ line of sight. He was carefully studying Vanitas’ face. “What’s wrong? You seem crankier than usual.”

Damn him and his skill for reading people. He refused to meet Noe’s eyes. “Tch. Nothing’s wrong. Can you just put your shirt on and leave so I can go back to enjoying my night?”

Noe stood back up. He could hear the shirt being pulled over his head. “By the way, your shower curtain’s a horrible color. My eyes hurt just looking at it.”

Vanitas whipped his head around to retort because it was a nice shade of blue dammit, but his words died in his throat. Noe had a soft smile on his face, and he was chuckling softly, and Vanitas felt like he might actually melt.

“Thanks for letting me use your shower,” he said as he started driying his hair. “Hey, I know this place that has amazing tarte tatin; you should come with me sometime.” All Vanitas could do was nod and give a soft “sure”. He was only half-listening; he was too focused on the fact that Noe was actually smiling at him.

Noe nodded. “Great. I guess I’ll see you around then?” he didn’t wait for a response before leaving Vanitas star-struck in his own apartment.

‘Wait a minute. Did Noe just ask me out on a date?’

Maybe this night wasn’t as horrible as he thought.

~~~

(A/N: the little shirtless Noe scene was supposed to be more descriptive with more freaking out from Vani, but half way through writing this, I remembered the Shirtless Kylo Ren meme and I had a hell of a time writing that part without dying of laughter i’m sorry

Also I totally threw in my headcanon that Noe has naturally somewhat-curly hair bc come on he’s black for goodness sake)

#vncsecretsanta #vanitas no carte #vnc #eli-and-fictional-sons #apparently i don't know how to keep a fic short these days it was not supposed to be this long #lol #i had so many ideas since you didn't want a specific prompt #but this was the easiest i think #but now i have ideas for MORE vnc fics so thank you #hope you like it!#by me #fic

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