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nearthewalkingdead · 7 years

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This Dance

first attempt at a Reddie fic. I mentioned before how listening to their playlists gave me ALL THE HIGH SCHOOL DANCE VIBES. so here it is.

(ps, here’s a playlist of all songs referenced here - plus forever young. all of these except the title song are on the official movie playlists.)

It was a beautiful, but chilly autumn evening. Hues of purple and blue painted the night sky while thousands of stars glittered brightly overhead. Music poured from each open door of the gymnasium.

Everyone was there. The whole club. Ben had asked Beverly. Naturally she said yes; they'd been dating a long while now. Mike had asked a girl from his class, who was very sweet. As did Eddie, although if you asked a few of the guys, they'd remark that his own date was not so sweet. Bill had gotten cold feet about asking anyone - and it seemed that Stan had decided to join he and Richie in going stag, rather than ask a girl himself. The dance had only just begun and so far everyone was in a good mood.

They were all gathered around a table covered in a baby blue tablecloth, dozens of silver streamers and brightly coloured foil confetti strewn about. Several dozen white, blue and pink balloons hovered overhead as well as on the floor, but the losers club in particular had taken extra care to avoid these particular decorations. Everyone was talking over one another above the music as the excitement for this evening overflowed. Lights lined ceiling beams and a sagging silver banner hung low on a beam nearby to their table, it's message nearly illegible.

Richie was pretty quick to notice Eddie's silence, as the boy sat a bit further off in a chair that had been pushed back from the table. Normally they'd already be bickering, and he'd yet to hear anyone - even Eds - utter a 'beep beep Richie'.

"Hey, Eds, why the long face?" He asked as he approached, and the other flashed him a rather disapproving gaze before he looked away again.

"Don't call me that." He replied, feeling like it must have been the thousandth time he'd had to say it, "I hate it when you-"

"I know." Richie put his hands up defensively, dropping into the chair beside him. "Where's Olivia?" He asked as he pushed his glasses up, looking around for the prissy, stuck up girl that his best friend had invited. Eddie didn't answer.

"... Eds?"

The shorter boy clenched his jaw a bit as he tried to let the nickname slide this time, before relaxing and looking to Richie. "She had to cancel. She came down with something." He said. He could see his friends expression change, and he hastily added, "It's not a big deal. It's a stupid dance. And I don't want to get sick anyway."

Richie nodded a bit, and threw his arm around him. "Well hey, that makes four of us! Means we can dance with as many ladies as we like tonight, am I right?"

Eddie stared blankly at his friend's wide grin, and he stood, letting the other's arm fall from his shoulders. "Going to get punch." He stated, and marched off. Well, things must have been serious. Normally a punch bowl that all students had access to was out of the question.

Richie sighed and bounced back up to his feet to return to the others, just as Ben and Bev were hurrying off to the dance floor - a Whitney Houston song was playing and he was sure it had inspired them to get moving. Mike was standing too as he held out his hand for his date. "Alright, Mike!" Richie exclaimed, his friend shooting him a grin as they followed after the previous couple's lead, "Show us those moves!" He shouted after them.

After about an hour or so of dancing, talking, and overall being silly, the atmosphere seemed to change. The song True, by Spandau Ballet played as the couples got cozy on the dance floor. Stan and Bill had disappeared to the punch bowl, and Richie sat alone at the table. He was shaking his head while watching Ben goofily try to impress Bev with some fancy (dorky) dance moves when he noticed Olivia dancing nearby to them, with some boy he didn't know. He stood up, looking around immediately for his best friend. Eddie seemed to have spotted her at the same time that he did. His freckled face had gone pale, and he dropped his empty punch cup as he moved to push through kids to get to the doors. "Aw, no, Eds.." Richie said under his breath, hurrying after him the best he could through the crowd.

When finally he got to the exit he looked around, spotting Eddie sitting against the wall with his knees pulled up, his face buried in them.

"Eddie-" he started toward him, and this startled the shorter boy as he lifted his head. His face was flushed and pink, cheeks stained with tears as he seemed to be having a bit of a struggle catching his breath.

"Rich, I didn't know you-" he stood as he took another breath, quickly wiping his face and blinking through teary eyes, "were even out here, I was just-" he kept having to break to try and get air to his lungs, and the way his hand moved over his heart to clutch as the fabric of his dress shirt made Richie feel a twisting tightness in his own chest.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the spare inhaler he kept for his friend, and offering it to him.

Eddie looked at him gratefully as he took it, fumbling to get the cap off and use it, and trying to otherwise calm himself down.

".. Look, she.. she wasn't really right for you, ya know, Eds-" a weak smile broke over Richie's face, trying to think of a joke to make his friend smile again.

"Save it. I don't really.. care all that much about that." Eddie admitted, "I'm humiliated. I really am always going to be a loser, aren't I?" He asked. Richie didn't know how to answer. The inhaler was passed back to him once Eddie's breathing seemed normalized.

"Thank you." He said, "I didn't think of bringing mine. I can't believe you... well, it was in your pocket."

"No big deal, I guess I must have forgotten it was in there." Richie said quickly, with a shrug of his shoulders. "Don't give me too much credit," he grinned again. Eddie smiled too, and relief washed over the boy in the glasses now. Both of them seemed to look away at the same time - Rich to his feet, the other to the sky. After a long pause, it was Eddie who spoke first.

"Maybe I should just go home. I mean, I had known this dance was a mistake from the beginning." He shrugged, and Richie felt himself get a little annoyed by that kind of attitude.

"That's what your mom said, not you," he replied.

"Alright, well, Rich, sometimes she's right. So lay off, okay?"

"Eds, I'm not trying to give you a hard time." He said quickly, but he didn't want to escalate things. How could he tell his best friend he wanted to see him smiling and having a good time without coming off weird? Despite the angry, yet big and Bambi-eyed stare he was receiving from the short boy - who he SWORE was taking a deep breath to yell at Richie about the nickname - the taller cleared his throat, and held out his hand to take a chance. "May I have this dance?" He said, and even though he was dead serious, he just couldn't help that it came out in a silly, pseudo-fancy sort of voice.

"What?" Eddie scoffed, but suddenly his cheeks were pink once again at the mere thought of dancing with Richie. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Please, Eds..~" he gave him a crooked and almost mischievous grin, one that practically melted Eddie's heart.

"You have got to stop calling me that," he finally said, voice significantly softer as he moved his hand gently to place in Richie's. The taller of the pair's face lit up, and Eddie couldn't help but think about how cute it was to see him so happy over something as silly as this. Richie pulled him in close, and immediately things were awkward.

The music continued to play from the open doors, Toto's Africa sounding distant from where they were outside.

They struggled momentarily to find hand positions. Eddie was a bit too stubborn to let him lead initially, but when Richie gently prompted him to let him do it, he gave in almost instantly. Their movements were clumsy and uncoordinated as they began. "You got two left feet, Eds~"

"Like you're one to talk," Eddie responded without missing a beat, "when you're supposed to be leading." This caused both of their expressions to break into huge smiles, their laughter echoing in the small courtyard.

They began to fall into rhythm, movements becoming more fluid. "It's gonna take a lot to take me away from you," Richie mumbled along to the words - not the best singer, but another smile broke into his friend's face instantly. "There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever doooo~" his free hand slid to the small of Eddie's back, and another blush rose to his cheeks. Even Richie's freckled face was pink with embarrassment, now.

"You're blushing," Richie mocked him, and Eddie suddenly developed a Bill-like stutter.

"I-I-It probably looks that way, uh, f-from crying." He said as an excuse, and Richie smirked as he lifted Eddie's hand above his head, twirling him in a little circle.

"Whatever makes you feel better~" he teased, and Eddie just gave him a look once he had turned enough that he was facing him again, with those big eyes that absolutely killed the taller of the two. They suddenly grew quiet as the music dissolved into the second verse, but the way they stared at one another, it was as if there were alone somewhere dead silent and the music was gone.

"Richie," Eddie asked suddenly. "Why did you come alone to the dance? Wasn't there anyone you wanted to ask?"

Once again there was a pause, Richie studying him carefully, and Eddie worrying he said something offensive. Maybe his friend did ask someone? Maybe it was a rude or hurtful question.

"The person I wanted to go with already had a date," he said, eyes still fixed on Eddie. The other opened his mouth to ask who, but before he could speak, Richie gave him a look and tilted his head. It occurred to him that he was talking about him, and this caused him to look down quickly to avoid eye contact.

"You are a real cute one, Eds." He leaned to gently kiss his forehead, and Eddie was trying not to lose his mind as his entire face burned.

"Shut up."

#Reddie #reddie fic #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier

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leaparrish · 7 years

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Stick to the Status Quo || Lea & Amadeo

AJ finds out things he probably shouldn’t. Popular kids can also be jerks.

It was a good fifteen, maybe even twenty minutes after the final bell. Lea had spent some of it in the library, making sure that she had a few books that she'd need for her final projects and essays. The hallways were empty now - with the weather improving, more and more students made their ways outside as quickly as possible. But that was fine, she didn't need all the company right now. She made her way over to her locker and switched the books into the crook of one arm, fiddling with the lock with her other hand. Before she could catch them, she felt the books slipping and did a quick 360 of the hallway before reaching her hand out, palm flat - stopping the books a few inches above the ground. That way they didn't have to fall and make a loud noise or let her papers spill everywhere, creating unnecessary messes. Locker finally unlocked, she bent down to grab her books and scoop them back into her arms, holding them with both arms this time.

AJ had stopped by the main office on his way out of the school. After the locker mishap that had effectively ruined one of his favorite shirts plus permanently stained the bottoms of his Converse he had decided to start keeping his stuff in the office. He spent his free period there working as an office aid for the secretaries anyways, so they were more than happy to let him store his stuff there during the day. The secretaries seemed just about the only three people in the entire school not hell bent on ruining AJ's life recently and he was pretty sure they did most of the kind things they did for him out of pity. AJ didn't need their pity, but he did need them to keep turning a blind eye to his copier and laminator use, so he figured he could keep paying the heartbroken puppy dog for at least one more year. He got trapped in a conversation with one on his way out that put him behind getting out of the school. By now the student parking lot would be backed up with traffic, so AJ was in no real rush to get to his truck. Turning into a hallway heading towards the exit he stopped suddenly when he noticed Lea Parrish out of the corner of his eye. He knew her more by reputation than anything else. He had seen her with the same group of kids that had ostracized AJ on a few occasions. Plus, AJ was in a couple classes with her brother. But until the moment that she dropped a few books and they began levitating mid fall, AJ had never really had any interest in learning more about the girl. "Well, there's something you don't see everyday." He tried to keep his expression neutral, but inside he could feel the wicked grin splitting across his face.

Lea pulled her backpack off her back and set it on the floor before opening the locker more fully. She absent-mindedly fixed a few of the Instax mini-polaroids of herself and her friends that were stuck with magnets to the door of the locker and set about grabbing some of the notebooks that she'd need for tonight's homework plus three of the books that she was reading for fun at the moment. But she felt herself half jump when she heard a comment. Lea had been so sure that she'd been totally alone. "My backpack?" She said, standing up to face the source of the voice. Amadeo - AJ - whatever he preferred to be called. "It's pretty cute, I know." She twirled her ponytail around her fingers. Because of course it was that - it had to be - because there was no way that someone - anyone - had seen her do magic, especially not so shortly after the whole Dustin thing. Dropping the ponytail, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Didn't exactly take it to be your style though, but if you want, I can give you recommendations." Just fake it - she reminded herself. Pretend things like magic aren't real and that one of the most intimidating boys in school didn't just maybe see you do magic.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets and strolling down the hallway towards Lea as slowly as possible, AJ let the tension build. They both knew exactly what he had just seen, and if AJ played it cool for just a moment longer maybe he could get some kind of nervous breakdown of a confession out of the girl. He had certainly never seen anything like that before in his life, although he had always suspected that it had existed. He considered himself a pretty logical guy, but growing up in a town like Ashkent Creek with a detective for a father, a line between logical and impossible had to be drawn. Had Lea's little trick taken him off guard? Yes. But had it surprised him? Not so much. Now standing just a few feet from Lea, he leaned against the lockers and stared her down. The girl seemed innocent and fragile enough, but he had seen first hand just how cruel the people she called friends could be. He wasn't dumb enough to let people off the hook just because they didn't look like they could harm a fly. Especially when they could do whatever the hell Lea had just done. "I'm more interested in your textbooks actually. They looked light as a feather. They practically floated to the ground. You know, if I had books that light I'd just carry them around with me all day. I certainly wouldn't have to use that damn locker of mine." He was assuming she had heard about the blood in the locker prank earlier in the week. Since it had been her friends that had arranged it and her brother that had actually tried to help in the aftermath. "Care to share your secret?"

Every fibre of her being wanted to turn around and leave, but for some reason Lea couldn't move. She watched him carefully as he walked down the hallway before stopping just a few feet from her locker. She slammed the door of her locker shut with as much force as she could manage and raised an eyebrow at the boy in front of her. She shouldn't have stopped the books. But then they would have made too much noise and could have caused unnecessary messes on the hallway floor. Which was absolutely not what she wanted. Too much of a mess of things - of anything, be it books or something more abstract, was bad. "Well, my locker's in a good location." She gave a shrug, one she could only hoped implied a lack of care. "I don't know what you're saying about them being light, though. Sometimes I think my backpack ends up weighing more than I do." She let out a nervous giggle. "Or so my parents say." Lea fiddled with the edges of her sweater, tugging it down a bit more over her leggings. "No secrets to share, unless you want to know how I keep my nails neat for weeks at a time. I don't know what sort of thing you thought you saw." She glanced back behind her. She couldn't leave, still. Not now.

AJ had to admit, Lea was impressively committed to this playing dumb act. If AJ hadn't mastered the art of avoiding the question and changing the subject, he might actually think that the girl was just nervous around him instead of lying to him. Given AJ's reputation, especially coming from the people she considered her friends, he couldn't really blame her for being nervous around him. He had been accused of everything from blindly ignoring that his father was a killer, to helping to cover it up, to committing some of the murders himself. The rumor will was on steroids when it came to AJ Ricci. "Right." AJ released a single, humorless laugh at the awful excuse and feigned disinterest. Two could play at that game. "Maybe I'll just go talk to the principal about getting my locker changed then?" He pointed a finger, hoping Lea would follow it right up to the camera swiveling up and down the hallways. It had only been a year or two since the cameras had been installed following a break in that had resulted in a kid being killed, but AJ had to admit that it had worked in his favor on multiple occasions. "I bet I can even pull up some footage to show him exactly where I want the locker too." He pulled his hand free from his pocket and held it against his heart, giving a heartfelt sigh, "We could even be locker buddies."

Lea should have just left school when the bell had rung. With Jenna and Katie, and any of the others. They could have gone to somebody's house, done homework and just hung out and then she wouldn't be in this situation. Her mother would kill her if she knew how foolish she'd been, especially after Dustin's idiotic move. She was supposed to be the better sibling, the one who never did any wrong. It was part of how she was able to use Dustin's misbehavior as leverage against him. Yet here she was, standing with perhaps one of the worst people who could have seen what just happened, especially because he did not seem all too keen on brushing it off as a sort of trick of the eye. Too tired, too much studying, the brief heat in Maine getting to him. "Can't get lockers moved this late in the school year." She pursed her lips to the side. She'd heard about what had happened to him in his locker - and felt bad - though she didn't know just who it was who had done it. But that didn't excuse what he was doing now. She followed his finger up to the cameras and sucked in a brief breath. "These lockers are all taken." Lea half-snapped, taking a few steps back. "Don't think the administration'll switch up lockers, no matter who they're doing it for."

AJ crossed his arms. From the looks of it, the two were at some sort of stand off. Lea, unwilling to admit what the two of them had both clearly seen and AJ unwilling to let an opportunity like this pass him by. Trying to find the evidence that he would need to prove his dad's innocence would be tricky enough, and while AJ had no clue what all Lea had up her sleeve in regards to the magic he had just witnessed he did know that whatever it was it was a trump card he intended to hold. The two stood in a stare off for what felt like an hour before AJ broke the silence again. "Look, I know what you've heard about me. I know who your friends are. Given the stories that they've told I don't understand why you seem so hell bent on pissing me off." He began. It was dark even for him. Usually he hated playing on the rumor card. He spent so much time vehemently denying anything that related to his father's warrant for arrest that the idea of using those same rumors to get what he wanted just seemed... wrong. As if nothing else he did to get what he wanted wasn't just as morally ambiguous. AJ wasn't going to get the chance to fully play the card anyways it seemed, when he heard the voice behind him squeal out in protest. "Lea! What is he doing?" the voice sounded startled, like low budget thriller film startled. AJ rolled his eyes and shifted his glance over at the group of three girls rushing toward Lea and him. The one leading the charge, Amanda, was a junior like AJ, followed behind her was her little sister Katie and another friend, Jenna. "What the hell do you think you're doing talking to her?" Amanda excused AJ, practically stepping in between the two as if Lea's life had been in danger or something. "Hmm. Free country? Class project? Magic?" AJ spirit fingered in Amanda's direction while giving a quick but hopefully noticeable side-eye to Lea. "Take your pick. You usually just make stuff up for me anyways."

Lea narrowed her eyes at him. She wrapped her fingers tightly around the straps of her backpack and gave a small huff. She'd never flat out say she'd just done magic, especially not in front of him, of all people. If Jenna or somebody had caught her, she might have - but not in front of a stranger who she'd heard more bad than good about. When he finally spoke again she took a few steps back. "Yeah, but if you try anything, there's the cameras, remember?" She snapped back, pointing right up at the cameras. But before much else could be said, Amanda, Katie, and Jenna appeared. Lea startled briefly before reminding herself that they clearly hadn't seen what she'd done, because they would have rushed to intervene long before. When Amanda stepped in front of her, Lea let Katie grab her and pull her back, though she carefully watched Amanda and AJ's interaction. "Not in any of the same classes," she rolled her eyes. Amanda replied, "Maybe it is a free country, but harassment is still frowned upon, especially on school grounds. Especially to freshman girls." Lea glanced around the hallway, wondering if any of Amanda's other friends were around. Right now, she just wanted to go, but at the same time, she wasn't about to step in between Amanda and whatever she was doing. Especially if this got her out of having to circumvent talking about what she'd just done. "All I wanted to do was leave, frankly." She said with a small shrug.

If there had been time before Amanda and her gang of mindless Barbies had shown up to rescue Lea from the big bad wolf, AJ might have mentioned that he controlled those cameras at the school. The footage was kept stored in an otherwise empty office used mostly for storage and the thing went unchecked unless a specific case was brought up against a student. AJ spent enough time in the office to have plenty of opportunity to delete anything that might be used to criminalize him for any reason, but there had been more than a couple of times that a certain disc with footage of a student lighting up in the hallway in between classes or lighting a trashcan on fire had mysteriously found its way onto the Principal's desk. Upon Amanda's threat, or what AJ assumed had meant to be a threat, he let out a single laugh. "Harassment, right." Is that what this was considered? "It's not like it would be the worst thing you've said about me. Does it ever get tiring? It's got to be exhausting to constantly make up lie and after lie. The least you could do is get a little more creative with them." Amanda scowled at him, as if he was nothing more than a gnat that had flown too close to her ear. Behind her, the three freshman stared wide eyed at the exchange. They didn't speak, but they didn't leave either. Two years ago if AJ had been in Lea's place would he have done anything different? "I don't tell anybody anything that shouldn't be heard. We were friends with you. We don't need others making the same mistake." AJ rolled his eyes, using his leg to push himself off of the locker and pacing from locker to locker. "Next time could you tell them that I like skinning Dalmatians for their fur? Or that I like stealing voices from mermaids? Come on, give me something to work with here." He turned to Lea next, "It wasn't like I chained you to the locker. I'm not an X-Men."

Moving closer to Katie and Jenna, Lea watched Amanda carefully. She was incredibly elegant, even if the words she spoke were not done so in a kind manner. But if it distracted from what AJ had seen, it was fine. She quickly admonished herself for thinking so - bullying wasn't okay, but if the things Amanda and others had told her about AJ held any truth, Lea was at least fairly glad that they'd come up before anything else could happen. Her mother would kill her if she found out what had happened. Then Dustin - well, she didn't know what he'd say. He was in the same grade as AJ, but she didn't figure the two knew one another well, if at all. In a small enough school as theirs was, rumors got around and people mostly knew each other at least by vague recognition, but she wasn't entirely sure how much Dustin knew. But he could easily call her a hypocrite, or an idiot, or anything. She wondered if he'd be concerned for his or her well-being at all. "I didn't try and be friends with him." Lea whispered to Katie and Jenna. "He just showed up." Katie rested a firm hand on Lea's shoulder, almost modeling her behavior after her sister's. "No worries." She whispered, low enough that neither Amanda nor AJ would be able to hear. Lea's focus returned to Amanda and AJ. "You don't deserve things to work with." Amanda scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Murderers and the children of them should get nothing - and that'd be a blessing." Lea took half a step forward as AJ addressed her again. "No, the X-Men aren't real anyhow, and I think that'd be a few steps past harassment if you did that." She watched as AJ paced back and forth and bit her lip. "You could've just let me be." Lea continued, all but locking eyes with AJ. He wouldn't say anything, not right now. That much she had a pretty good feeling of. It wasn't like he could get Amanda and Katie and Jenna to believe it, anyhow. Besides, Amanda stepped in to speak again. "You shouldn't have talked to her. You should know better, know your place in this school."

AJ didn't let words get to him. It was the cardinal rule. The one thing that he couldn't get away by just faking. He had constructed a hurried but sturdy wall around himself made of glue, capturing the words and making sure not to lose them. Each harmful thing making his wall that much stronger. He had his own words as weapons, a carefully crafted sword of sarcasm and jokes to keep everyone else at a distance. Things worked better that way. His dad had always called him soft as a child, he had never believed it until he realized how hurt he had been when all of his friends had turned their back on him. He didn't want to feel the sting of that betrayal again. Everyone now was an enemy, all of them ready with daggers to plunge into his back. "And you could have walked away at any time." He didn't even bother trying to defend his father again. That shtick had gotten old long ago. He would show them all. "Don't you worry a head on your pretty little head Amanda. I've already figured out my place." Before leaving, he turned his focus onto Lea one last time, "These used to be my friends too, if they ever get around to telling the truth once in awhile. They dropped me as soon as they found out that my imperfections didn't fit their narrative. So if you have any skeletons in your closet you better hide them. You might end up just like me." Then he turned his back to leave.

Lea sucked in her lower lip. Her father and mother would be displeased to see her act this way. She even knew the term - bystander effect - letting something go wrong when it should not. But if she spoke up, she could be found out, and things could fall apart. Which absolutely could not happen. Lea felt her nails dig into her palms - she knew there'd be light marks there, now. She remained standing by Jenna and Katie, protected by Katie's almost ethereal (despite her cruelty) sister. "We believed in you." Amanda murmured, each word filled with ice. "The last time we'll dare make that mistake." She clicked her tongue against her teeth. Lea startled as AJ addressed her again, giving a rolling of her eyes. "They care about me." She said, seeing Katie and Jenna nod out of the corners of her eyes. "But thank you so much for the advice." She replied, watching as he began to leave. Before he'd even gotten out of earshot, Amanda turned to Lea and the other two, and commented - "Let's go. My car's all ready. Wouldn't want to be around someone like that any longer." As she began following the three out, Lea looked back, giving AJ's back a small glare. She'd have to make sure none of this ever got out, ever. Absolutely and totally simple.

#touchofchatzy #c aj #chatzy #1 #2 #stick to the status quo #// obligatory hsm reference :)#note for some bullying in this and i'll add a warning in tags if you'd like #this was a lot of fun to do and amadeo is so so wonderful and just !!!

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boschlingtumbles · 4 years

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White Wedding Chapter 22

Beric squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think about the fifteen to twenty foot drop below him. Tried not to think about the distinctly breezy feeling between his legs. Tried not to think about how that giant crash of the trellises would have staff running any second.

All he had to do was clamber over a couple feet to where the next window was and pop in.

Or maybe he would slip, fall and sustain a horrendous injury. Again. And they could find his mangled half-naked body in the rubble.

Beric gritted his teeth and forced himself to open his eyes. With superhuman effort, he scooted himself one rung over. There, that wasn’t so hard. Then another. Then another.

He had reached a portion of the trellises that had managed to survive Jaime Lannister, and he slid his feet into the rungs gratefully. Maybe things were finally turning around.

The distinct sound of voices floating from around the corner caught his ear. Or not.

Beric scrambled to the window, prior fears vanishing when faced with the all-consuming imperative of not being caught at a fancy dress party in purple lightning bolt undies. The window thankfully opened easily, although it might have just been the adrenaline lending him superhuman strength. He flung himself through and hit the carpet in a dive and roll, just as two chatty workmen came around the corner to inspect the damage.

Beric allowed himself to take a deep breath. For the first time in several hours, he was finally, mercifully alone.

He was used to being alone. He had no siblings and had struggled for most of his life to make friends. His one previous relationship had been with a guy who was in love with someone else, and that was really its own special brand of loneliness.

Solitude could be comforting. There weren’t expectations for one. Nobody to disappoint.

Then Thoros had come along, and dragged him from that little half-life which had been cozy in its own way, but also painfully dull. Life with Thoros was never dull. In fact, Beric smiled ruefully to himself, sometimes it was rather too exciting.

How on earth Robert getting married to Cersei had managed to upend his own life, he honestly had no idea. He had just been trying to be a good friend when Robert asked him to be in that stupid commercial. Wasn’t saying yes the right thing to do?

Beric had been sixteen when he’d had his motorcycle accident. As far as he was concerned, little good had come from that episode. But one silver (okay maybe more like brass) lining had been that he’d stopped getting attention he’d been quite uncomfortable with in the first place. He’d gotten plenty of stares instead of course (and to this day he couldn’t quite look in the mirror without flinching) but he’d built up walls and walls of self-defense to those.

It was quite another thing to have undergraduate girls giggling as he hurried through the quad on his way to class. He’d had to get a lock for the cubby where he kept his books, lest it look like a flower bomb had gone off. Even some of the law school girls would nudge each other, and the law school boys, particularly Crakehall and his crew did not like that at all.

“It doesn’t seem to bother you when you’re tending bar with me,” Thoros had said earlier that week counting up their tips so they could split them.

“You’re there to protect me,” Beric said matter of factly. “Plus it feels like it has a point. Like I’m getting something out of all the embarrassment. When I’m just sitting on a bus and some tween is taking photos of me... that is completely pointless,” he finished and flopped back on their bed.

Thoros, having finished divvying up the spoils, proceeded to start sprinkling Beric’s bills on top of him.

“Stop making it rain on me,” Beric rolled on his side to better glare at him.

“I’m practicing for Sunspear,” Thoros said cheerfully, flicking a ten-dragon note at his nose.

Beric propped himself into a seated position.

“You’re using the money to rent a tuxedo for the engagement party remember?” He said sternly.

“I was thinking...”

“No.”

“But...”

“No.”

“You’re not even listening!” Thoros said in a joking whine.

“There’s no justification for skipping your friend’s engagement party so you have money for a strip club,” Beric huffed.

“I hate tuxedos,” Thoros pulled a face. “I look like a waiter.”

“Only because you always rent so they don’t fit well. If you bought one...”

“Are you taking me to many fancy parties my lord?” Thoros teased. “Besides, we can both skip. You can’t tell me you’re looking forward to this.”

“Of course not.”

“So let’s stay home. Robert won’t even notice we’re not there,” Thoros wheedled, crawling across the bed to straddle Beric’s lap. And as Beric looked at Thoros’ perfect crooked smile, he really wanted to say yes.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad. There can’t be many tween girls in attendance,” is what Beric said instead.

He should have said yes.

For starters, the dry cleaners had misplaced a number of his clothes, most upsettingly his tuxedo. So come Friday, both he and Thoros were at the store to rent tuxedos.

“See? Waiter vibes,” Thoros said glumly, looking at himself in a mirror.

Beric scowled as he tried on yet another pair of trousers. He knew he was lanky, but it was infuriating that the only sizes that were long enough were for men of much wider girth.

“It’s just for one night,” he said finally. He had no idea whether he was trying to convince himself or Thoros.

Then Saturday morning, he woke up to discover three new fan accounts dedicated to #oneeyedhottie. He groaned.

“You seriously don’t see the humor in this?” Thoros asked drily, looking over his shoulder. “Is that your highschool yearbook photo?”

“Where did they even find it?!” Beric fretted. “And no. I don’t see the humor in being MORE of a freak show.”

“I don’t like it when you say those things,” Thoros wrapped his arms around Beric. “First, I would deck anybody who said that about my boyfriend. So you’re treading on thin ice ser. Second, I have plenty of scars myself.”

Beric turned hastily.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s not the scars. I just don’t like people looking at me like I’m something I’m not.”

“Like?”

“I dunno. Somebody to be admired.”

“I admire you,” Thoros said bluntly. “You’re my hero.”

“I think we’ve already proven your judgment is questionable,” Beric noted. When that failed to provoke a smile, he shifted tactics.

“What will make you forget I ever said anything?” He asked, running an idle finger down Thoros’ side, pleased when he got a shiver in response.

“You could...” Thoros broke off as he squirmed away, making a sound of mock exasperation. “You could give me your phone. It’s making you all broody.”

“My life is making me broody,” Beric rolled his eye, but he tossed the phone, and used Thoros’ momentary distraction to pull him close again.

But Thoros might have been on to something, because by the time they had gotten to King’s Landing that evening, his spirits were feeling markedly lifted. In contrast to Thoros, who ground his teeth as yet another person handed him an empty glass.

“Maybe I should just start chucking them into the crowd,” Thoros scowled.

“You will not,” Beric yoinked it from him gently. “I’ll find somewhere to put it down.”

“Okay, I’m going to go stand over there on the lawn where there’s no people to hand me garbage,” Thoros said. “Are you good by yourself?”

“Yup,” Beric said cheerfully. And of course, no sooner had he set down the empty glass on the bar then he became cognizant of a young girl staring at him. He moved to the garden. Seconds later, she appeared in the tree line, this time slightly closer. Beric swallowed, a little unnerved by her unblinking gaze, and decided to go into the house. Only to hear her soft footfalls trailing eerily behind him.

That he had proceeded to lose her, only to end up locked in a room with Jaime Lannister, only to escape to find himself without pants entirely (he knew the rental tuxedo was too big!) was only indicative of the fact that he was no hero. He was a hapless idiot who screwed everything up. He’d tried to do the chivalrous thing and give that girl the slip without hurting her feelings. Then he’d tried to be a nice person and help Jaime Lannister. And where did all of this trying ever get him?

Beric dusted himself off glumly and looked around. Jaime Lannister’s bedroom had the forlorn look of a room that had not received much use in four or five years. He walked over to the bureau and pulled open a drawer, thinking that while Jaime was an inch or two shorter than him, at this point any pants were better than no...

The drawer was empty.

Beric, with increasing anxiety, began to pull out the other drawers. Empty, empty, empty. He checked the closet. Empty.

Fuck. He sat on the foot of the bed heavily. He knew Jaime hadn’t lived at Casterly Rock since high school, but he’d assumed he would have some clothing left lying around.

Okay think. Brienne’s suitcase in the corner would be of no help. Who lived here? Tyrion was still here—Beric shook his head at the idea of trying to use any of Tyrion’s clothing—and... Tywin.

Tywin Lannister was Jaime’s height, so they would be short on him, but he was also thin. They’d probably fit better than any of Jaime’s old clothes. All the same... Beric winced at the idea of having to explain to the host of this party what exactly Beric was doing running around in his trousers.

But it would only be for the ten minutes it took to get down to the garden and retrieve his own. The odds of running into Tywin were infinitesimally small.

Beric took a deep breath and opened the door, poking his head out. He looked left, he looked right. The hall appeared abandoned.

He edged out. Okay first question. Where exactly was Tywin’s bedroom?

After several wrong turns and dead ends, Beric heard voices. Quickly he withdrew into what appeared to be a linen closet and held his breath.

“It’s just too vexing for words! I can’t believe none of the staff here can fly a helicopter! I would have thought that at least Westerling...”

“Leave the poor man alone. Just accept that you’re going to have to ask Steffon to repark his vehicle. Maybe you can make an announcement. ‘Will the owner of the corporate helicopter obnoxiously parked on the lawn please move their vehicle?’”

“Everything’s a joke with you! Look, can I at least borrow your phone?”

“Fine here.”

Beric peeked through the crack in the door to see Cersei typing out a text, an experience of concentration on her face as Tyrion tapped his foot impatiently. He briefly considered poking his head out and asking for assistance, but then considered that every time Cersei had involved herself in his life it had gotten worse. He kept his mouth shut and watched as they slowly ambled down the hallway.

“Who you texting?” Tyrion asked when Cersei tossed his phone back.

“Just responding to Jaime,” Cersei said and then they were gone.

Beric counted to a hundred while considering that when last seen, Jaime didn’t even have a phone. He decided to walk in the opposite direction.

Finally he got a break, when he saw the cavernous oaken doors of what could only be the master bedroom.

If bedrooms were windows to the soul, Tywin’s soul was dark and rather minimalist.

Beric mentally apologized to the wedding photo of Tywin and his late wife, the silent witnesses to his crime. He opened a closet and... voila!

Beric wasn’t sure he had ever seen anything more beautiful.

Less than a minute later, he was at the very least decent, even if he also looked like he expected an imminent flood.

Being somewhat fully dressed turned out to be a relief, because the aforementioned oaken doors unexpectedly started to open.

For the second time in perhaps twenty minutes, Beric found himself hastily darting into a closet.

Tywin Lannister slowly let himself in, and Beric tried to retreat even further into the closet.

Please don’t let him find me, Beric begged a universe that had never been particularly kind to him. Dear gods, I can’t go like this. Cowering in a closet in the man’s trousers.

Tywin, instead of turning to the closet, went to the bathroom. Beric heard the faucet turn on briefly, a splashing sound. He peered through the crack in the door.

There was a second of nothing, and then Tywin returned to the bedroom, his tie and cuffs unloosened. He sat on the foot of the bed heavily, staring at the same photo that Beric had noticed earlier.

“She’s your daughter,” Tywin huffed at length. “What am I supposed to do here?”

He’s talking to his dead wife. Please don’t let him find me cowering in his closet wearing his trousers listening to him talk to his dead wife. They’ll never even find my body.

“Part of me wants to just drop it. Steffon was my first friend. He warned me about Aerys and I chose money, I chose power. I chose incorrectly. I think... I think had you been there I might have done things differently. But it you weren’t. You died. And fuck that asshole, he wasn’t there. He betrayed me first, you know he did.”

There was a long pause.

“If you were here, you’d tell me to get over myself,” Tywin sighed. “Gods I can hear you in my ear sometimes. I just wish I could get some kind of sign, that this will be okay, that I’m not making more of a godawful mess of my children’s lives than they have already done on their own.”

There was a longer pause. One that seemed to last an eternity. Beric swallowed, screwed his eyes shut, and then kicked the back wall of the closet hard.

The echo of that thump seemed to last even longer than an eternity.

“Fucking mice. I’m calling the exterminator tomorrow,” Tywin grumbled. But maybe it was Beric’s imagination, only he didn’t seem quite as sad.

Beric counted to a thousand after Tywin left.

Thankfully this time he knew where he was going. Outside, outside and over to the east wing. And there, somewhere on the ground amidst the rubble, would be his pants.

He hurried out through the maze of Casterly Rock, a mansion whose floor plan he was now unfortunately and intimately familiar with. He cut across the second floor, smiling to see Brienne Tarth and Catelyn Stark, sequestered in a reading room laughing together. He slipped by, not wanting to intrude on their moment, even less as he was currently dressed.

Upon reaching the outdoors, Beric was momentarily disoriented by how dark it had gotten. People were having dinner now, he could hear the clink of silverware. He hoped Thoros wouldn’t feel abandoned at their table—probably not, he was fairly sure Cersei had relegated all of Robert’s unattached friends to a table in the back. Thoros would be laughing with Melisandre and Oberyn and Elia, her boyfriend Arthur, and Mace… no Mace would be at his mother’s table, Beric corrected himself. Regardless, he looked forward to sitting down with friends and putting this entire sordid ordeal behind him.

He rounded the bend, noted that there had been little effort to clean up the massive collapse of flowers. He could see the window where he and Jaime had crawled out, the broken bushes where Jaime had fallen, which meant he would have put Beric’s pants down right... there.

Beric looked blankly at the bare ground before him. He nudged some plywood away, lifted some flowers up. He proceeded to work with greater urgency, in a wider and wider circle around where he had been sure Jaime had put them.

Thirty minutes later, he sat down with a sigh, wincing as the trousers rode up even higher. He had to face the facts. He looked ridiculous and his the bottom half of his rental tux was nowhere to be found.

He nudged a bit of broken wood with his foot forlornly. Maybe he should just go find his dinner table. Even if people stared, Thoros would have some silly story for him that would take his mind off things.

Beric brushed himself off and headed toward the courtyard. As it happened, he had a perfect view for what happened next. As did several hundred dinner guests.

Ned Stark slammed both hands against the table where he was sitting and stood up, his chair tipping backwards with a crash. He looked furious, and yes, maybe a little tipsy.

“Well MAYBE,” he shouted at Hoster Tully, seated a mere two seats away, “she isn’t here because you humiliated her in front of all these people!”

Hoster Tully, refusing to be talked down to, stood up as well.

“How dare you take that tone of voice with me?!”

“See?! You don’t even deny it! That’s the worst part, that you know what you’re doing and you just DON’T CARE!”

“Lower your voice this instant or I’ll...”

“YOU’LL WHAT?!”

And then Hoster grabbed Ned’s shoulder, and Ned hauled back and punched him square in the nose.

Even from a distance, Beric could see the spurt of blood, and he could almost feel the silence radiating outward across the courtyard.

Beric closed his eyes. With everyone distracted, now would be the perfect time to walk to his table and plop down. Thoros would hand him his flask and Beric could have a swig of rum and he could just relax and enjoy the party.

Or he could go back into that gods-damned maze of a house and find Catelyn and send her out to rescue her husband and hope she didn’t notice he was wearing Tywin Lannister’s clothing.

It was a very easy choice, but Beric was already heading back to the mansion.

He found Catelyn more or less where he left her, with Brienne. Both girls were holding empty wine glasses, and Beric thought rather wistfully to the flask waiting for him in Thoros’ pocket.

“Catelyn, Brienne, I’m so sorry to interrupt. There’s been an um incident, Ned rather needs your help,” he said to Catelyn.

He knew she’d registered the ill-fitting trousers because her gaze had drifted briefly to them, but she was too polite to say anything.

“Of course Beric,” Catelyn rose. She turned to smile at Brienne. “I suppose I’d better rescue Ned.”

“Of course,” Brienne gave a bright slightly unfocused smile. “Beric, I thought that commercial was terrific. It was really nice of you to help out Robert like that.”

Beric began to redden at the reminder of the commercial that as far as he was concerned had started this entire mess. But Brienne’s gaze was open and guileless and he knew that she just meant the comment sincerely in the same way he knew she hadn’t noticed his outfit at all.

“Thanks Brienne,” he gave her a small smile back. She was already snuggling deeper into her arm chair, the strap on her pink-ish dress falling down one white shoulder. He thought in that moment she looked rather like a modern day Cinderella after midnight, tired of glass slippers and needing a nap.

“So what’s Ned need a rescue for?” Catelyn asked drily.

“Oh! Right,” Beric took a deep breath. “He punched your father in the face.”

“HE WHAT?!”

Catelyn Stark née Tully was truly frightening when she got angry. An almost dead expression in her eyes. Beric, feeling slightly guilty about being responsible for such a transformation, decided to hang back and let her march ahead.

And that was how he noticed Cersei hurrying from a cellar corridor, a bundle of clothing in her arms.

Beric did a double take. Surely she hadn’t purloined his trousers?! But no, it was all women’s clothing. After a moment of hesitation, he decided to follow her.

Cersei casually shoved the garments into an antique highboy drawer and then flagged a waiter.

“Sir, where is the sommelier? I’ve been looking for her all night. I must say, I’m finding this dereliction of duty to be rather... unprofessional.”

“So sorry Miss Lannister, I’ll track her down right away,” the waiter bobbed his head nervously.

Cersei gave him a charming smile.

“You might start with the wine cellars.”

“As soon as I deliver these desserts,” the waiter promised.

Cersei floated back to the courtyard, and after a brief pause to wipe the sweat off his brow, the waiter did the same.

Beric hesitated. This really REALLY wasn’t his business. But...

He quickly went to the highboy and retrieved the clothes, and set off for the wine cellars.

“Hello?” Beric called cautiously as he opened the first door. This far down, the air was cold and clammy. It reminded him of a different cellar, Gregor Clegane’s hands around his neck, drowning... Beric forced himself to take a deep breath. In all likelihood there was a scared girl who had fallen afoul of Cersei Lannister out there. This was not the time to be having a panic attack.

“Hello, um miss? I found your clothes, are you okay?”

Beric listened for a moment and upon hearing nothing was turning to exit when there was rustle.

“Wait! I’m here, um behind this rack. Please don’t look, I’m um... not wearing much.”

Beric could relate.

“I’ll toss your clothes in that direction, and I’ll wait for you in the hall. But you need to hurry, I think a search party will be looking for you.”

A minute later, a rather bedraggled looking girl a year or two younger than Beric emerged, trying to smooth her skirt suit. A lacy black bra was still visible under her white shirt, and Beric coughed and nodded in the general direction. The girl looked a tad confused.

“Oh!” She tucked the shirt in, which had the effect of pulling it even further down and revealing more cleavage. Beric winced.

“Here why don’t you wear this,” he shrugged out of his jacket.

“I know these cellars are cold but I’m rather used to—“

“I insist,” Beric said firmly and draped it over her shoulders, rendering the outfit somewhat more work appropriate. “Now we really must be going.”

He led her out, barely skirting several waiters who had clearly been dispatched to fetch her.

“I don’t know what happened, I had the most lovely romp with Tyrion and then he texted me for a repeat during dinner and that he would wear his birthday suit if I would. And I went and I waited and...”

Beric was glad it was dark because he knew he was blushing terribly. They had made it out of the mansion, and were now hurrying across the lawn. He had the vague idea that if he could get her to the catering prep tent, she could act surprised that anyone would think her missing. It was pitch black, and their progress was only occasionally punctuated by the flash of the fireworks from above.

“I can’t think what was taking him so long, and what on earth happened to my clothes,” the girl was saying. Beric flashed back on Cersei borrowing Tyrion’s phone and rather doubted that “Tyrion” had been planning to come at all.

“I suppose I’m just—oof!” The girl lost her footing and landed on her knees.

“I think I broke my heel!” She cried, clutching the shoe to her person as if it were a small pet.

“Shhh,” Beric tried to shush her. They were so close, but any noise could call the attention of the staff. “Can you walk?”

“No I don’t think so,” the sommelier tried some weight on her foot and winced.

“Okay, I’ll carry you,” Beric decided, looking doubtfully at the tent. It wasn’t terribly far. He could manage.

He staggered the remainder of the way, her arms around his neck, head buried in his shoulder, before at length he could put her down on a folding chair.

“New plan,” he panted as he set her down. “You twisted your ankle in the cellar and have been icing it here for the last hour.”

He cast around for some ice and knotted it into a dishrag as a makeshift ice pack.

“They’ll be so mad at me for playing hooky and not getting anyone to cover!” The girl bit her lip. Then she looked at him more closely.

“Say you look familiar.”

“I’ve got one of those faces,” Beric offered tepidly, aware that with the whole missing eye thing he most certainly did not. “And Miss, I really don’t want to presume, but you DID play hooky without getting anyone to cover. TWICE. And not for a legitimate reason like spraining your ankle but to hook up with the son of your employer!”

His companion had the grace to look a little sheepish.

“You’re right. I suppose it wasn’t very...”

“Professional,” Beric prompted, recalling Cersei’s word.

“I’ll take my lumps. And... and I’ll text Tyrion that it was fun but I have a job to do,” she added.

Beric gave a smile of relief and bent his head to the work of getting the ice pack on her ankle. He didn’t know what the situation there was, but he thought the more distance that this girl put between herself and Cersei Lannister, the better.

“You’re even better in real life you know,” the girl said suddenly.

“Real life?”

“You’re from that commercial right? With the little boy? But you’re even better in person,” she pressed. “Wait till I tell all my friends that I got rescued by the one eyed hottie from the commercial!”

“I um have to go,” Beric blurted to keep from screaming.

“So basically,” Thoros smirked when Beric found him—or rather when Thoros found him, after the fireworks were done and people were lining up for the valet. “Basically you saved the day. I told you you’re a hero.”

“I didn’t save anything,” Beric protested. Now missing his jacket in addition to wearing somebody else’s trousers, he felt exceptionally unheroic. “I just did what anybody would have done.”

“You convinced Jaime to talk to Cersei about the wedding. I ran into him later, you know. You tricked Tywin into forgiving Steffon. Jaime says he saw them in the library drinking scotch.”

“I just said that to Jaime, he didn’t listen,” Beric disagreed. “And nobody tricks Tywin Lannister. He already wanted to do it, he was just looking for a nudge.”

“Fine you NUDGED Tywin Lannister,” Thoros dipped his voice to make it sound dirty, and Beric glared at him. Thoros only grinned back.

“Then you sent the cavalry to save Ned and finished it up by foiling a Cersei Lannister plot. Has Cersei ever been foiled? I didn’t know it was possible.”

“Well I think she just wanted to break up Tyrion and...”

“Tysha,” Thoros supplied.

“How do you know her name?”

Thoros handed Beric back his cell phone. It was opened to one of the fan Ravengram accounts. There was a picture, of Beric looking down in concentration as he held an ice pack to a purpling ankle.

The post was by one Tysha Crofter. My hero, said the caption.

“I’m not a hero,” Beric began stubbornly, but Thoros kissed him to cut off his argument. He tasted like rum and a little marijuana and no matter what Thoros thought, he looked good in a tux.

“If the Internet says it, it must be true,” Thoros grinned when he broke the kiss. And Beric found that he had quite forgotten what he had been planning to say.

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