Minor Nat/Clint, Minor Pre-WinterIron, T, 2k - Humor, Team breakfast, Avengers family shenanigans
Ayyyyy I’m back after a very long break (forced by my mean brain, it’s a whole thing) with some silliness. Because of course I am.
This is a birthday gift for a friend, based on a real conversation the time he forgot the word for ‘afterglow’. Also dedicated to Dani, for responding without question when I messaged her at 1 in the morning to ask her opinion of various Avengers’ sex terms, the Clint/Nat is just for you BB
A normal breakfast with the team gets weird. Which is actually also pretty normal.
~~
Sam isn’t sure when he became Natasha's relationship consultant, or how.
To be fair, lots of strange things have happened around and to him since he joined the Avengers, but somehow this feels like the strangest. Every time she casually corners him to talk about Clint it throws him for a loop, and it's even weirder when she actually takes his advice.
He's not complaining, exactly, but there are some things Sam could do without hearing. Especially when they're horrifically sleep deprived after a long mission and trying to wait out the last of the adrenaline. Its ass-early in the morning, Sam hasn't slept in about thirty six hours, and all he wants is to finish his breakfast before passing the hell out.
"So then he starts juggling," Natasha says around a mouthful of the toast she stole off of Sam's plate,"which yes, is usually very cute, but not when I'm trying to enjoy the aftermath--"
“The what?” Sam interrupts to demand, so vehemently that Steve's head jerks up from where it's been drooping dangerously low over his bowl of cereal.
“The aftermath..?” Natasha repeats slowly and she looks genuinely confused, but it's impossible to tell with her.
“You call it the aftermath?” Steve asks, blinking quickly like he's trying to make sure that he's actually awake.
“Is that not what it’s called?” Natasha asks innocently while stealing Sam's other piece of toast.
“No," Sam says and finally sets down the forkful of eggs he's been holding, because this is much more important, "what the fuck—“
“Pretty sure it is," Natasha says, taking a pointed bite of toast before continuing, "you’ve got clothes thrown everywhere, everyone is sweaty and exhausted and bruised? What else would you call it?”
“It’s called the afterglow,” Sam sputters and he still can't tell if she's messing with them or not.
“That doesn’t sound right,” Natasha says, her nose wrinkling, and if she is fucking with them she is so convincing.
“What are you doing to people?” Steve asks, horrified, and then visibly shudders when she winks at him.
“Well, what do you call it then?” She demands of Steve.
“I call it private,” Steve says with a sniff and shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
“Boo,” Natasha says, and Sam has to agree.
Sam has his mouth open to demand more answers, but when Clint and Bruce walk into the kitchen he swings his attention towards them instead. “Clint,” he barks, “what do you call that time period when you’re just hanging out with someone after sex?”
Bruce apparently inhales whatever's in his mug in surprise, probably tea, because he chokes and then starts coughing. Clint just grins brightly as he begins thumping Bruce on the back.
“What, you mean the aftermath?” Clint asks, and looks genuinely confused when Natasha crows in victory.
Sam isn’t falling for it though, and he narrows his eyes at Clint as he accuses, “She told you to say that.”
“Say what, aftermath?” Clint asks, still slapping at Bruce’s back absentmindedly.
“I knew it!” Sam shouts.
“You knew nothing!" Natasha insists, pointing a fork at him.
"No more missions without sleep," Steve mutters to no one.
“You can stop hitting me now, I’m good,” Bruce says with a wince and edges out of Clint's reach.
“Tell him I didn’t tell you to say that!” Natasha demands, turning to point the fork at Clint, and Sam makes a noise of protest when he realizes it's actually his fork.
“She didn’t tell me to say that,” Clint parrots instantly, suspiciously, while grabbing the pot of coffee that's just finished brewing.
Sam cheers, throwing his hands in the air, and happily ignores the withering glare that Natasha shoots at him.
“But!” Clint adds loudly before further arguments can break out, “I did get it from her. She said it once when we first got together and I thought ‘aww, that’s fitting.’”
“Aww?” Steve repeats, his face creased in confusion and his spoon frozen halfway to his mouth.
“I shouldn’t have asked Clint,” Sam mutters to himself, “that’s clearly tainted data.”
“Hey,” Clint protests as he drops into the chair next to Natasha, still holding the coffee pot.
“Of course she’s rubbed off on him—“
“Heyy,” Natasha says, wiggling her eyebrows.
“- I need to ask someone else,” Sam finishes decisively, “collect more data.”
“Very scientific of you,” Bruce says and holds up his mug in cheers from where he's taken a seat at the safety of the island.
"Well what do you call it then?" Natasha asks, spinning towards Bruce.
"Whatever option isn't 'aftermath'," he replies, looking vaguely pained.
"So you're Team Afterglow," Sam says with a nod, and Bruce's pained look gets deeper.
At the sound of more footsteps approaching the kitchen everyone’s eyes flick over to Sam before shifting to fix on the doorway, and the way they do it nearly in unison is more than a little creepy.
“That was very creepy,” Sam tells the room at large.
“What’s creepy?” Tony asks as he steps into the kitchen, not even pausing at all the attention, “other than all of you staring at me, of course.”
“Hey Tony—“ Sam starts.
“Don’t ask him,” Steve protests with a groan.
“What do you call that time period when you’re just hanging out after sex?" Sam asks, gleefully ignoring the tired glare Steve is leveling at him.
Tony actually stops in his steps to consider the question carefully, his finger tapping against his chin. Then he points at Sam as he finally says, “Foreplay.”
Bruce chokes on his tea again while Clint makes loud noises of agreement, and Steve looks down at his cereal with a weary sigh.
“Not helpful,” Sam says with a groan, and Tony just shrugs shamelessly.
“Why are we polling people’s sex nomenclature?” Tony asks as he finishes crossing the kitchen. He steals the coffee pot out of Clint’s hand, ignoring Clint repeating ‘sex nomenclature’ to himself under his breath and the fact that Clint was just drinking straight from the pot.
“Because Natasha is ruining my life,” Sam says heavily and holds out his hand to take the coffee pot as soon as Tony is done filling his mug.
“Sure, sure,” Tony says with a nod and apparently no further questions, handing over the coffee and then blowing Natasha a kiss when she glares at him.
“I just want to eat my breakfast,” Steve grumbles into his cereal bowl.
“No one’s stopping you,” Clint points out, although he does appear to be leaning across the table towards Steve.
Clint hooks one of his fingers over the rim of the Steve's cereal bowl, narrowly avoiding dunking it into the milk, and starts to slide it towards himself. Everyone in the kitchen watches as Steve blinks slowly and then finally seems to notice, slapping at Clint’s hand only to miss and whack the edge of the table. It makes the entire thing jump, and Sam and Natasha laugh a little too hard as milk and cereal slosh everywhere.
“If you are trying to take a poll, I think you need a bigger sample size,” Tony says thoughtfully, dropping into a chair at the table now that scuffle has settled. From the island Bruce makes a noise of agreement, and Tony grins.
“Hey, if you wanna call a press conference,” Sam offers, happily ignoring Steve’s protest of ‘what, no’ to continue, “then I will happily take a proper poll.”
Tony has his mouth open to respond, but at the sound of approaching footsteps they all spin to face the doorway again.
Bucky freezes before taking even a single step into the kitchen, his eyes moving over everyone staring at him and clearly considering bailing.
“Don’t run!” Sam demands, spinning a little in his chair to better face the door.
“Run,” Steve advises tiredly, barely looking up from what's left of his cereal.
“I think I’m gonna run,” Bucky says and shuffles back another step.
“Stay and take our sex poll!” Natasha calls gleefully, then shoots a sideways look at Clint when she notices that he's picking spilled pieces of cereal off the table.
That gives Bucky pause long enough for Sam to shout out his question over Steve’s noises of protest and the rest of the table laughing. Bucky glances back down the hall, like he’s still considering running for it, then sighs and steps fully into the kitchen.
“What do I call what?” Bucky asks, one eyebrow raised like he can’t quite believe the question and failing to completely hide what looks like a tiny, bemused smile on his face.
“You heard me,” Sam says flatly, “now what do you call it?”
“I don’t —“
“Everyone else has answered!” Tony insists, “this is weird family bonding, Frosty, get on board.”
Bucky looks around the kitchen doubtfully, searching all of their faces for tells, but he’s met with only nods and serious, expectant looks.
And Sam can’t be the only one who notices the way Bucky’s gaze moves back to Tony far more than it needs too, right? Apparently he is, though, because Steve is once again distracted trying to protect his breakfast from Clint while Natasha cheers them both on, and all of Bruce's attention is on adding sugar to his tea pinch by pinch. So Sam is also the only one who sees it when Tony winks at Bucky over the rim of his coffee mug, and he hasn't had nearly enough sleep for this.
At least Bucky shrugs and begins apparently pondering the question, giving it the thought it deserves on this weird-ass morning. Everyone in the kitchen waits with bated breath, and only slight distraction when Steve swats at Clint again, until Bucky nods decisively to himself and steps a little further into the kitchen.
"Aftermath," Bucky finally announces, and then flinches a little when the room immediately explodes in noise. “What?” Bucky demands over the sounds of Sam complaining loudly and Natasha howling with laughter, "you asked, an' thats my answer.”
"Why," Sam groans miserably and grabs for the fork that Natasha is jabbing at him, "why is that everyone's answer?"
“Fits, doesn't it?" Bucky asks with another small shrug and starts shuffling further into the kitchen, "clothes everywhere, everyone's sweaty and sore and covered in bite marks? Aftermath."
That spurs another burst of noise from the rest of the team, most notably Steve loudly dropping his forehead to the table and Natasha throwing her hands in the air with such force that her chair rocks in place. Bruce appears to be eyeing the doorway and planning an escape.
Unfortunately, the reaction that Sam is most aware of is Tony snorting into his coffee before wiggling his eyebrows and saying, "Oh, I do like your style."
"That's enough weird breakfast for me," Sam says and shoves his chair away from the table, "it’s gonna take me a couple days to sleep off this mess."
"You started this conversation," Tony points out with a laugh.
"No, Natasha started it," Sam protests, "right Steve?"
Natasha pauses in finishing off Steve's cereal, which she somehow has, to smile innocently. Steve still has his head down on the table, and he appears to be fast asleep.
"I'm running away from this family," Sam says and pushes himself tiredly to his feet.
"I'll come with you," Bruce says, standing from the island and clutching his mug of perfected tea to his chest, "it's been awhile and my disappearing skills are getting rusty. How do you feel about India?"
"Is it far away from these people?" Sam asks as he shuffles after Bruce, happily ignoring Tony and Natasha booing them.
"Not in my experience, no." Bruce says heavily.
"See you in a couple hours for training!" Natasha calls sweetly as they approach the doorway.
"No~!" Sam sings without turning around, and grins when he hears someone laugh.
He can't resist glancing back before he rounds the door though, just in time to see Bucky sliding into his abandoned chair next to Tony. Bucky has a look on his face that Sam has never seen before as he says something to Tony, almost flirty, and Sam consoles himself with the fact that at least this time Natasha notices it too.
After he sleeps for about twelve hours, Sam is definitely going to get her thoughts on that. And maybe he'll even hear the end of the juggling story.
Prompt Post: Trans Noya (feat. Asanoya and background ships)
I loved seeing different headcannons/ AUs regarding if Noya was a Trans male (or just transitioning). So I decided to make a few prompts regarding this idea.
PLEASE NOTE! I am not an expert on this and I am prone to make mistakes. If I have any sort of information incorrect regarding this topic, please inform me and I will change it. The purpose of this blog was for safe and inclusive enjoyment/entertainment.
Now, on with the show!
- I definitely see Tanaka as the very first person to know about Noya being trans. I feel as though he would cry about it. Then proceed to “educate Noya” on how to be a man.
- The crush on Kiyoko was something so that Noya would feel like he was a “real high school, teenage boy” because he didn’t really know that he could be bisexual and trans at the same time. When he confronted his feelings (by that I mean that clearly romantic tension Asanoya scene) he was all like. “Oh. I have feeling for Asahi and just admiration for Kiyoko....fuck.”
- Asahi never knew Noya was trans until he told him and the team. Noya was really scared that Asahi would’ve judged him. But Kiyoko and Yachi (bless the lesbian girlfriends) reassured him that he wouldn’t. Of course, they were right.
- I feel as though Nishinoya is a bit dumb and would practice in a binder (cause he doesn’t want or doesn’t have enough money for top surgery) and probably pass out in it. The team, especially Asahi, was freaking out. Long story short, Noya would be benched if they discover that he was wearing a binder during practice.
- I also headcannon Takeda to be trans as well. Nishinoya, once discovering this information, would always ask him for advice.
- On his birthday, the team pooled enough money for Noya’s Testosterone shots.
- On pride month, the team put up flags for everyone. Bi for Tanaka, Nishinoya, Kiyoko, Ukai, and Daichi. Gay for Takeda, Kageyama, Tsukishima, Asahi, Ennoshita, and Sugawara. Pan for Hinata, Kinnoshita, Narita, and Yamaguchi. Lesbian for Yachi. And of course, Trans for Noya.
- Tanaka definitely had a double date for Enno with Noya and Asahi after.
Let me know if you have any more! I would love to hear about them.
Ace attorney au! (Things have been busy lately so I have only been rebloging posts sorry)
So Apollo is a student at some random high school, and for some stupid reason he gets in trouble and has to transfer (Something to do with not having parents). So now Clay and Apollo are separated and he can’t go back.
He now goes to Themis high and on the trip there (it’s pretty far) Apollo sees some of the town and since the teachers liked/pittied him they paid for a small apartment for at least the rest of this high school year.
Once lil Polly gets there he notice how the school is stranger then it seems. With Phoenix (gym teach) and Edgeworth (history) he can’t tell if they are fighting or flirting (the other teachers are other aa trilogy people). There’s some weird blonde that is in most of his classes who keeps flirting with people, has this weird hairstyle, sparkles, and speaks German. Also this kid with a blue top hat keeps appearing out of nowhere than disappearing.
So the idea I got was something like Phoenix starts a but mean (probably he’s beanix) and at some point Phoenix has to choose confessing to edgeworth and maybe having a relationship vs helping Apollo with klavier or smthing. So Phoenix doesn’t think he still has a chance and he knows what it’s like to be young and in love so he doesn’t confess and Klapollo happens but Wrightworth gets just plain angsty. Eventually they get together bc Maya encourages him (‘come on nick it’s now or never he’s leaving the country for a different job!) and he confesses right as the plane is about to leave and edgeworth doesn’t have time to respond cuz the plane will take off without him.
So keeping in mind that I’ve literally already written a 40k Destiel fic inspired by Selena Gomez’s “Back to You,” today it came up on my play list and I started to think about ficcing it again, but this time Wangxian. It’s just such a ficcable song, I can’t even.
Like, a modern AU (set in the US) where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were once dating, and Wei Wuxian started making friends with “the wrong sorts,” and so Lan Qiren forced Lan Wangji to dump him. They part ways for a few years.
Lan Wangji never really recovers, and he perfunctorily dates the people his uncle sets him up with, and his life kinda stalls...not that there’s anything wrong with it, just...it’s always the same, the same places, the same people, the same work, the same wake up time, the same daily routine, the same bedtime. Sometimes he’s not sure which he misses more - Wei Wuxian, or the disruption to his life that Wei Wuxian represents. He almost wishes that Wei Wuxian has gone as “bad” as Lan Qiren was so, so sure he would, because then it would be proof - that stepping outside the box is not the way to a good life, that Lan Wangji made the right choices even if he’s not happy with them, that kind of thing.
Wei Wuxian also never really recovers, but instead of letting it get him down, he’s even more determined to prove that he’s so much more than what snobs like Lan Qiren thought of him - and so are the friends he made, who are of course Wen Qing and Wen Ning. They also have really had a tough time, with a lot of people assuming the worst about them because of their family connections. The three make a pact together - to succeed, no matter what it takes, and to help each other whenever one of them starts to struggle. And it works. Though they’re a little behind their peers - they all go to college, and they all finish their degrees, they all get advanced ones. Wen Qing becomes a doctor. Wei Wuxian becomes an engineer. Wen Ning becomes a vet. They get respectable jobs, if poorly paid because that’s the economy in 2020s USA, and they’re slowly building lives for themselves. No one from the circles his adopted family move in will associate with him anyway - he got kicked out for some of his youthful shenanigans, and though he’s in touch with his siblings, his “parents” won’t acknowledge him - but he doesn’t care. He knows he’s succeeding, no matter what they say about him.
(read more)
Though Lan Wangji never stops thinking about Wei Wuxian, he refuses to Google him or look him up. Fantasize about him? Yes. Wish his current SO was them? Yes. Occasionally scroll through Jiang Yanli’s friends list just to make sure Wei Wuxian is still there? Yes. But he doesn’t look him up, doesn’t friend him, doesn’t outreach. Why should he? Some regrets are normal, but he’s over it - he’s definitely over it.
Not that Wei Wuxian expected him to. Lan Wangji broke his heart, and it hurt - oh, it hurt so much, but Wei Wuxian is definitely over him. Who needs that asshole anyway? Wei Wuxian knows his worth, and he doesn’t need the affection of someone who cast him aside at the say so of his uncle. If he occasionally comes moaning Lan Wangji’s name...that’s a perfectly normal thing to do as regards someone Wei Wuxian hasn’t dated in a decade, right? Lan Wangji was, and presumably still is, hot as fuck, and Wei Wuxian has a healthy labido
Which is to say, neither of them is over it at all.
Still, their mutual pining might have never come to a head if not for Lan Wangji’s best friend - Jin Zixuan - getting engaged to Wei Wuxian’s sister Jiang Yanli.
And then, suddenly, after so many years, they’re in frequent contact again - helping with planning the wedding - and, well...
For Wei Wuxian, it’s infuriating. There’s Lan Wangji, still quiet, still distant, and sometimes when Wei Wuxian glances his way, he can swear that he caught Lan Wangji looking at him with resentment and regret, which - that’s some fucking bullshit right there, cause it’s not Wei Wuxian who ditched Lan Wangji, not Wei Wuxian who caved to family pressure. That’s all Lan Wangji - what’s Lan Wangji got to resent?
For Lan Wangji, it’s awful. Wei Wuxian is at least 8 times more gorgeous than Lan Wangji remembers him being, tall and lithe, his hair long, his affect casual. Despite the same air of nonchalance he always projected, though, now he’s like that but ALSO educated, successful, and self-made. Every bad thing Lan Qiren said would come to pass for Wei Wuxian is now proven a lie, and Lan Wangji feels wretched about it. Even worse, Wei Wuxian is clearly single - and “ready to mingle,” as Lan Wangji believes the phrase goes. Literally anyone who breaths, of any gender, is apparently fair game, and Wei Wuxian flirts constantly, especially with members of Lan Wangji’s friends circle. Mo Xuanyu? The poor guy never knew what hit him. Lan Jingyi? Is like eight years to young for Wei Wuxian, but that doesn’t stop him. Ouyang Zizhen? Lan Wangji is pretty sure Wei Wuxian doesn’t even know Zizhen’s name - or his age - but again, when did any reasonable objection ever stop Wei Wuxian? Luo Qingyang? She’s a lesbian for fucks sake, but she apparently doesn’t mind, and even flirts back, and Wei Wuxian is incorrigible.
Maybe Lan Qiren was right after all.
Wei Wuxian is determined to flaunt what Lan Wangji missed out on, loudly and publicly. Mo Xuanyu does make for a fun fling, and Lan Jingyi is a good kisser but they never get farther than that. Ouyang Zizhen is definitely too young - and he’s straight - but he laughs along when Wei Wuxian is outrageous, and they understand each other. And Luo Qingyang...Wei Wuxian suspects she knows exactly what the score is, and is maybe even helping him.
Helping him make Lan Wangji miserable, that is.
Wei Wuxian is definitely not looking to accomplish anything else.
Unless he can secure a Plus One to the wedding, ideally one who can join the wedding party and stand beside Wei Wuxian when he and Jiang Cheng give Jiang Yanli away.
Cause, oh, the look on Lan Wangji’s face, if he’s forced to spend the entire wedding facing Wei Wuxian and his date? Priceless, definitely.
Lan Wangji is determined to give Wei Wuxian the space to do...whatever it is Wei Wuxian is doing. Wei Wuxian always was a whirlwind, and Lan Wangji has never wanted to control him, never known how to keep up. Still, it galls to see Wei Wuxian flirting, and it hurts to see Wei Wuxian act indifferently towards him, and it aches to remember that, had things been different, Lan Wangji could have been on the receiving end of all those lovely, carefree smiles.
Rather than deal with the difficulty he has breathing whenever he’s in the same room as Wei Wuxian is in the room, Lan Wangji throws himself into the logistic planning of the final weeks leading up to the wedding. He coordinates vendors. He soothes ruffled feathers. He makes sure the caterers know literally everyone’s dietary preferences and restrictions. He works, and he works, and he works, and he tries to do nothing but work, but sometimes...
...Wen Qing will wander by, take over his spreadsheet, and tell him to go socialize...
...or Wen Ning will intercept the decoration Lan Wangji was moving, lift it surprisingly effortlessly, and tell Lan Wangji to join the main gathering...
...or Luo Qingyang will come and lecture him about how hiding is dumb and maybe he’d actually meet someone new if he tried.
As if Lan Wangji will get to meet someone new.
As if Lan Qiren will let Lan Wangji be with them, even if Lan Wangji did.
They’re trying to help, but he can’t figure out why. Wen Qing and Wen Ning especially are barely even his friends - but they’re closer to Wei Wuxian than anyone else in the world...Lan Wangji can’t fathom what they’re up to. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think they were trying to get him back together with Wei Wuxian? Which makes him think they don’t know Wei Wuxian half as well as they think they do, cause there’s no way that Wei Wuxian wants that - no way that Wei Wuxian wants him. Lan Wangji had his chance. He gets that.
(But, oh, it’d be nice to believe, even for a minute, even for a single dinner party, that maybe that would be something Wei Wuxian would want.)
But that’s impossible.
So Wei Wuxian flirts shamelessly.
And Lan Wangji hides behind duty and a stoic facade.
And the day of the wedding approaches - they get through the rehearsal dinner, the bachelor and bachelorette parties, the hangovers the next morning, all of it...and then it’s time.
Lan Wangji knows he should be watching Jin Zixuan, dressed in full Chinese traditional garb for an utterly Western style wedding, but instead he can’t keep his eyes off the opposite wedding party. Luo Qingyang is maid of honor, in a chongseom that makes no sense as either traditional Chinese or modern Western - and Jiang Yanli insisted on her brothers standing at her side, and so Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are both there.
In tuxedos.
A sharp contrast to the robes in muted colors that Jin Zixuan picked out for his wedding party.
And Jiang Cheng still has a look on his face like he stepped in something gross and is too dignified to wipe it off on the carpeting, but Wei Wuxian...oh, Wei Wuxian is so perfect, absolutely flawless, and his pleasure is so obviious and uninhibited. From the moment the tent flaps open and Jiang Fengmian walks his daughter, in full Phoenix robes and an elaborate golden head dress (a family heirloom, no less), Wei Wuxian only has eyes for his sister, and his joy for her is spectacular and makes Lan Wangji’s chest ache.
As the ceremony commences - Western secular, seriously, what, not that it’s a surprise, Lan Wangji helped plan it, but it’s still weird - Lan Wangji looses himself in the rhythm of non-religious liturgy and imagining that, had his life gone differently, how Wei Wuxian looks now might have been how he’d have looked on their wedding day.
He wants that so badly.
He so, so desperately wishes that could have been.
For once, Lan Wangji isn’t wrong about Wei Wuxian’s train of thought. He’s got eyes for no one but Jiang Yanli - well, and a small aside of imagining all the ways he’ll make Jin Zixuan regret ever being born, should he ever hurt her. The ceremony passes so quickly he’s amazed - usually he’s super impatient and antsy during events like this - but no, he’s fine, he’s fine, he’s fine, he’s...and then it’s over, and he glances to the groom’s party, and he realizes...Lan Wangji is staring at him.
Reflecting back over the ceremony...Lan Wangji has been staring at him the whole time?
And seriously - what the fuck is up with that? What had Wei Wuxian done wrong this time? Was it the tux? Lan Wangji coordinated the rental, if he’d objected to the Western attire, he had plenty of time to say something. Was it the way Wei Wuxian was rocking back on his heels? As if Jiang Yanli didn’t know Wei Wuxian couldn’t stand still - as if she’d ever hold that against him! His mind scrambles through explanations, each more ridiculous and rude than the last...no matter what the reason is, he’s sure that his existence offends Lan Wangji, as it also offended Lan Qiren. If it didn’t, why would Lan Wangji have treated him so indifferently since they re-met?
(It definitely isn’t because Wei Wuxian has intentionally kept him at arms length, oh no, this - whatever this is - is absolutely entirely Lan Wangji’s fault.)
Still, now that he’s aware of Lan Wangji’s condemnation, Wei Wuxian can’t stop thinking about it. It preoccupies him all through agonizingly dull hour of taking group photographs in various places in the picturesque garden, and all through the brief period he actually gets to spend during the passed platter part of the reception - hors d’ouevres to tide the guests over while the family and wedding parties do the pictures - and all through the achingly dull meal. The food is good, Wei Wuxian supposes. The wedding has been nice, Wei Wuxian supposes. Jiang Yanli is elated, Wei Wuxian knows, and he’s delighted for her, but...somehow, the joy has drained out of the evening.
Fucking Lan Wangji - can’t behave himself for one fucking evening, he’s even going to ruin this for Wei Wuxian.
Fuck it - as soon as the meal is over, and the first dances done, and the reception switches from staid social affair to open bar dance party, Wei Wuxian resolves to get sloshed as fast as humanly possible. Anything to stop him from thinking so damn much.
Lan Wangji is one of a handful of designated drivers amongst the people in his generation - he’s expecting to do at least three runs back to the hotel, starting with the bride and groom, then all the Jin half-siblings, then probably the Jiangs, judging by how they’re behaving so far, and then...he doesn’t know, but he suspects there’ll be others. Looking around as the evening grows later, the music louder, and the dancing more raucous, he tries to do a mental tally, and realizes...something is wrong.
No, nothing is wrong...someone is missing.
Where’s Wei Wuxian?
Confused, Lan Wangji looks around again. Wei Wuxian had been dancing - with his sister, with his brother in law, with Luo Qingyang, with Mo Xuanyu, with the folks a half-generation younger like Lan Jingyi, with anyone or anyone, by himself...but no...Luo Qingyang is dancing with Wen Qing, if “intense dance floor frottage” can be considered dancing...and Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli are dancing together, and Mo Xuanyu is flirting with some guy Lan Wangji doesn’t recognize, and the half-generation younger folks are teasing some poor Jiang junior, and Wei Wuxian has been exuberantly present for much of the evening, and now he’s just...gone.
As drunk as Wei Wuxian appeared to be, that can’t be good.
So, concerned - just that Wei Wuxian is drunk and might have tried something dumb, like driving home himself, or gotten lost on the way to the bathroom, or needed to throw up, not about anything else, Lan Wangji is definitely not concerned about Wei Wuxian in any other respect - Lan Wangji goes in search of Wei Wuxian.
He checks around the outside of the tent - nothing.
He checks inside the venue’s main building - nothing.
He checks the bathrooms - nothing.
He checks the parking lots - nothing, and of course Wei Wuxian didn’t take a vehicle, he didn’t drive himself.
He checks everywhere he can think, as the night grows later and darker and the party proceeds and the oldest, most staid guests start to say their goodbyes.
Finally, tired, out of ideas, and disinterested in returning to the loud bright heat of the tent, Lan Wangji goes for a walk through the manicured grounds. Even in the dark of night, the place the Jin-Jiang’s chose is lovely. Scattered decorative lights cast barely enough light to navigate the lanes and paths, aided by a full moon and the occasional flicker of a firefly. There’s a koi pond in the center - they took a lot of pictures there - and a few stone benches around it, so Lan Wangji meanders in that direction. He can still hear the party. He’ll know when they need him. He really needs some time to himself - it’s all been too much.
He tries not to think too hard about what “it” actually refers to in that thought.
Nothing Wei Wuxian does diffuses the empty feeling in his chest; every drink, he feels worse. Every dance, he feels more like he’s putting on an act. His friends were starting to notice - Luo Qingyang and Wen Qing had exchanged a look and then rounded on him like they were going to pin him down and force him to...or try to force him to...talk about his ~feelings~, and so Wei Wuxian fled into the gardens, found a bench where he could listen to the soft sussuration of flowing water somehow audible over the thump of the bass, and breathe.
It’s been a long time since Wei Wuxian felt like he could breathe.
He still doesn’t feel like he can breathe.
Which is ridiculous, he knows, and he’s in the process of going into extensive internal detail of why it’s ridiculous when a damn ghost steps into the clearing around the koi pond...
...no, not a ghost...it’s Lan Wangji, cheeks pale from how much time he spends in doors, robes nearly white when their pale blue is washed out by the moonlight, hair raven falling about his shoulders. His headband frames his noble brow, and his corsage rains a trail of vining flowers over one shoulder like some strange epaulette, and oh, he’s gorgeous, and Wei Wuxian recognizes, to his horror, in that instant...
...he’s never, ever, ever been over Lan Wangji, and he never will be...
...and he’ll never, ever, ever get to be with Lan Wangji. Like, ever.
Lan Wangji is staring at him.
Fuck Wei Wuxian’s life.
“I’ll just...go...” Wei Wuxian mumbles.
The statement hangs heavy in the night air as Wei Wuxian rises, straightens his tux, heads toward the pathway that Lan Wangji just entered from...and then stops.
Because Lan Wangji has grabbed his forearm.
“Oh come on, man - what the fuck?” Wei Wuxian demands, yanking his arm away. “Look, I get it, I’m your least favorite person - well, the wedding’s done, you’ll never have to see me again if you don’t want. Is that what you want? Would that finally make you happy?”
He’s breathing hard by the time he stops talking, and Lan Wangji is still staring at him, and Wei Wuxian wants to flee - not to the tent, but to...literally anywhere...anywhere that Lan Wangji isn’t...except he can’t make his legs work, and he can’t seem to move, and Lan Wangji won’t. stop. staring. and then Lan Wangji opens his mouth, and it seems to be in slow motion, and is he actually going to speak, holy shit, Lan Wangji hasn’t said a word to Wei Wuxian since he said, “good bye” ten years ago, and then of all the fucking things to come out of Lan Wangji’s mouth, all he says is,
“No.”
“Wha...why...ho...WHAT?”
“You asked, ‘is that what I want? Would that make me happy?’ The answer is no, Wei Ying. That is not what I want. That would not make me happy.”
“Oh. Well. Fucking good for you.” Wei Wuxian doesn’t even know what the fuck he’s saying. He doesn’t know what the fuck Lan Wangji is saying. All he knows is that being there hurts, and he’s so damn tired of hurting, and Lan Wangji already destroyed him once...
...and I’d give anything for five minutes with him, even if I know he’ll likely destroy me again...
“What do you want?” asks Lan Wangji, like he actually cares about the answer, and Wei Wuxian can only goggle at him, because he was so so incredibly clear about what he wanted ten years ago - he even fucking asked Lan Wangji to marry him, said, “I’ll do anything, conquer any challenge - we can make this life together, Lan Zhan,” and Lan Wangji had just said, “Good bye,” and now, now, Lan Wangji wants to know what Wei Wuxian wants? What gives him the right? What gives him the entitlement? What gives him the audacity?
What makes him think anything Wei Wuxian wants has changed?
But Wei Wuxian can’t say that, can he...?
The silence stretches out between them.
Neither moves.
Neither speaks.
Fireflies flit around them.
Lan Wangji dreads Wei Wuxian answering, dreads him walking away, dreads losing this last precious moment they share, even though the tension of this moment is so awful that Lan Wangji fears it will break him.
“What would you say if...if I said that all I want...is all I’ve ever wanted?” whispers Wei Wuxian, like he’s terrified.
Lan Wangji has no idea why he’s terrified.
Lan Wangji has no idea what he means.
He asks with a raised brow, and Wei Wuxian laughs awkwardly. “Naw, I can’t do the ‘silent Lan act’ right now. Use your words, I’m fucking right out of here, okay?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll try.” It’s ludicrously hard, but...for Wei Wuxain, Lan Wangji will always try, always regret that he didn’t try harder when he should have. “I...don’t understand. You say...what you always wanted. A degree. A found family. Your siblings at your side. A pet rabbit. An apartment with a bidet. A signed copy of ‘The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.’ There were many things you said you wanted. I’m afraid I’m unclear which you mean.”
“You...you remember all that dumb shit I said back then?” Wei Wuxian sounds astonished. How can Wei Wuxian sound astonished? How can Wei Wuxian believe Lan Wangji would have forgotten a minute of those wonderful days - the best of his life?
“Mn.”
“Well, none of that shit’s what I mean. Got most of it anyway. Bidets are awesome. But Lan Wangj...Lan Zhan...”
His name, said in that sweet voice, causes a tingle to go down Lan Wangji’s spine.
“...all I’ve ever wanted was you.”
Lan Wangji’s jaw drops.
“And you told me to fuck right out of your life when I asked for that, so...fuck, what am I even still doing here?”
“Kissing me.”
“Wha--”
Lan Wangji interrupts Wei Wuxian’s confused exclamation with action - grapping Wei Wuxian’s shoulders and pulling him into a kiss. It’s rude, and inappropriate, and consent - what consent? - and Wei Wuxian doesn’t reciprocate but...oh well. Lan Wangji has already ruined his love life. At least he can have one kiss to remember fondly, to cherish, to--
--and then Wei Wuxian has an arm around Lan Wangji’s shoulder, their bodies pressed together, their lips moving as one, and oh, it’s good - glorious - Lan Wangji could weep he’s so happy. They kiss, and kiss, and kiss, shifting in the moonlight, lost in their embrace. Lan Wangji is breathless and growing dizzy, but he’s terrified to put space between them - what if this is goodbye? What if it’s just Wei Wuxian flirting, like he flirts with everyone? What if...what if...what if...
But finally, they do part, and scantly, bodies still close, embrace still maintained, faces inches apart.
“What’s going on, Lan Zhan?” asks Wei Wuxian weakly.
“I kissed you.”
“Yeah...got that part...but why...?”
“I know I’ve no right to ask this...but would you try again? With me? With us? Would you--?”
Wei Wuxian is kissing him again before Lan Wangji can finish the question.
Wei Wuxian can’t believe that’s a real question Lan Wangji has to ask - as if Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have taken Lan Wangji back anytime, at the drop of a hat, over the past decade.
(Okay, that’s unfair...Wei Wuxian’s actually been a huge dick about it...he knows Lan Wangji had no independent living, and relied on his family, and Wei Wuxian was just some aimless jackass, and, and, and...but it still stung that Lan Wangji wouldn’t throw all cares to the wind to be with Wei Wuxian, as Wei Wuxian would have done - had done - to be with Lan Wangji.)
But it feels dumb to dwell on that when Lan Wangji is in his arms, kissing him so eagerly, asking if he’ll try again.
Because of fucking course Wei Wuxian will try again.
“I don’t know what that means, Wei Ying,” says Lan Wangji with obvious frustration.
Kiss.
“It means yes,” Wei Wuxian replies.
Kiss.
“Yes?”
Kiss.
“Yes.”
Kiss.
“Always?”
Kiss.
“If you’ll have me back...”
Kiss.
“As if I’d ever turn you down!”
Kiss.
“Already did once...”
Kiss.
“And regretted it endlessly.”
Kiss.
“Good. You deserved at least that much suffering.”
Kiss.
“Deserved it, and more.”
Kiss.
“I suppose I’ll forgive you, if...”
Kiss.
“Anything. Just tell me.”
Kiss.
Oh, Wei Wuxian has so many ideas, and he delights in teasing Lan Wangji with each and every one, whispered between husky breaths in to the cooling air, interrupting himself constantly to kiss, and kiss, and kiss.
They’re still making out by the koi pond when Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang come looking for the promised designated driver.
They don’t even consult - or consider interrupting - when they do find the two idiots locked in an embrace. As one, the ladies turn, exchange a silent, smug high-five, and pull out their phones to order Ubers.
They can pay for rides for the Bride and Groom and family members and other drunken party goers.
Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have a lot of catching up to do.
(and done)
(oops, this got long)
(and yes, this is absolutely a mash up of a modern AU with the lyrics to “Go Back to You” with a healthy dose of the plot of Jane Austen’s “Persuasion.”)
i havent posted in a while but that isnt the point. rn is that i am raging at the lack of yotou (yokoo x satou) from tbhk. cmon lets appreciate the side character ships more guys. up our game 🙁🙁 /not mad /light hearted
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The past few weeks the cast had been working hard to make something they could be proud of, and they were proud of what they had accomplished so far as a group, but problems arise in individuals. Most of the actors were in their last year of high school and had other problems and worries this late in the school year. Lunch was one of the only times they could relax without having to do school work or production work. It was a time of fun relaxation, laughs and for some, it was a time to make new relationships or for some to evolve.
Denki and Shinso had been working together during rehearsal almost every time the actors were given time to work on individual character work. Even though Denki was who Shinso worked with the most, Denki was always disappointed when Shinso worked with another actor. Now Shinso was a part of the theater kid group, even during lunch. Currently, most of the students in the production were having lunch together and it was only the second week that Shinso was a part of this lunch group and he had taken notice of something. For one he noticed the closeness of Tokoyami the actor playing Scully and Aoyama the french boy who played the french chef in the show, he assumed that they were together or were getting to that type of relationship. He also noticed that mina was Ursala, not that she was naturally Ursula but she constantly in character, basically method acting, and it scared most of the none theater people. What he took notice of most was how they treated Denki, for the most part, it was harmless jokes that could be taken the wrong way. What he was really unsure of was how Jiro treated him, her jokes were more insults than the others, half the time he couldn’t tell if she was even trying to joke about it. Shinsou could tell that Denki was affected by Jiro’s words, and he was too. Mostly because her insults were always about other’s feelings toward Denki. Things like
“Your so annoying, it makes people hate you.”
“It’s hard being around you when you are so stupid.”
"I still don’t how you landed the prince role when you the furthest thing from a prince .”
“It’s so hard to act like I’m in love with prince eric when you’re the one playing him.”
“I’m not surprised that you’ve never been in a relationship, I pray for your future partner.”
That last few ones were the ones that hurt Shinso because he was a part of denkis prince Eric’s portrayal. The last one also struck a chord with him because he liked Denkieven before they become friends, he was almost hopelessly in love with Denkinow that they got to spend time together. Even though Jiro’s comments hurt both Denkiand Shinsou, neither of them was able to stand up to her. All Shinsou could do was find a way to comfort Denki when they were alone.
Later in the day after school now at rehearsal, once again Shinso was hoping from person to person helping them during their individual work. Denki was running over his lines, memorizing, blocking, and figuring out how to say each word, the way prince eric would. Shinso had taught him many acting tips in the past few weeks, it made Denki feel a little dumb because he had done acting for fun since he was little and he was only learning such things in his last year of high school. Denki sat and thought of tactics, a term, and a method that Shinso taught him. Basically, each line has at least one tactic, a tactic is an action verb that is aimed at the other characters in the show. For example, he used ‘to swoon Ariel’ quite a bit, swoon being the tactic and Ariel is who it is for. All the work he was doing made him think of Shinsou, and how Shinsou wasn’t working with him right now, it made him feel alone and jealous that he didn’t have the fluffy-haired boy’s attention. The director called for clean up which indicated the end of rehearsal, and Denki still hadn’t worked with Shinsou today, it disappointed him more than it should have.
Denki
I pack up my bag and script but stay seated in the chair I was in. I know that it’s time to go but I wasn’t ready to leave, not mentally at least. I watched as my ...our stage manager talked to our director, I have no clue what their conversations about but it’s not unusual for them to talk after rehearsal. I began to space out, still staring in their direction, I’m broken from this state when I notice both men looking at me, I panic a little because when two people are talking and looking at you it means that they’re talking about you, and I can only assume that their talking shit if it’s me they’re looking at. In my slightly panicked state, I didn’t realize that Yamada has left and that Shinso has started to approach me. I try to calm myself and get ready to stand up but before I could stand up I hear the amazing smooth voice of Shinso.
“Stay seated.”
Even though his tone wasn’t demanding or scary, I summited and was scared. I watched as he sets down something and pulls out another foldable chair, across from me and my chair. I couldn’t think of what to say or question but luckily I didn’t have to because he knew the answers to the questions I hadn’t even thought of yet
“I asked Yamada if I could work with you a little more today here because we didn’t get to.”
I nodded my head and took note of how awkward he knew that we were alone together. I guess he thinks I’m stupid because he went into more detail.
“He said yes, just no funny business and to lock up and that return the keys when I get home.”
He was less awkward now, he even rolled his eyes at the no funny business part. I assume that the shiny thing he put down was the keys to the auditorium. The most confusing part was the ‘return the keys when I get home’.
"Wait you live with Yamada?”
I yelled that a little loud and was a little too excited for that, it probably made him uncomfortable to be around a loud person like me.
"Yeah, he not my dad or anything. At least not biologically, he’s my foster parent, has been for the past 3 years but he hasn’t asked if I wanted to be adopted yet so I think he waiting till I turn 18 so he doesn’t have to deal with me.”
He laughs but I don’t think it’s very funny, because I don’t think it true, and Yamada isn’t like that. I hold my breath though, no one wants to hear my thoughts anyway, so I switch the subject.
"I was working on tactics today, hear let me show you!”
We worked for the next 30 minutes on different parts of the script, until we ended up on the wedding scene, the same scene that prince eric and ariel kiss. The atmosphere became weird between us, we weren’t acting or anything, just reading the lines and talking through different ideas. But the topic of kissing filled the air with awkwardness. But we had to continue with analyzing and discovering my character.
"I’ve been having trouble portraying Eric at this moment. It’s hard to show the love he feels for Ariel.”
I admitted to Shinso that love was hard to portray which is pretty embarrassing.
"I would try and draw out, or remember an experience for this scene, like your first kiss, or date, something romantic.”
Shinso suggested, I tried to rack my brain to find a replay that doesn’t include Shinso learning that I haven’t had my first kiss yet. But that’s what enders up coming out.
"I haven’t...”
"You haven’t ...what? Kissed someone? gone on date?”
Shinso sounds very shocked by this discovery. I just nodded my head not wanting to face him.
"But you’ve rehearsed this scene before, so you’ve kissed Jiro?”
I suddenly realize that every time Jiro and I have rehearsed that scene, Shinso isn’t in his chair, and when Yamada announced we would be doing stage kisses instead, Shinso hadn’t joined the club yet. Meaning that Shinso didn’t know about the stage kisses.
“No, she was uncomfortable with that so we opted for stage kisses, so I’ve never had a first kiss, not a romantic one or a fake one from Jiro.”
“Whats a stage kiss?”
I’m shocked, my stage manager doesn’t know what a stage kiss is. He knows all these other terms for acting but he doesn’t know about a basic stage kiss. Well, now I get to be the smart one.
"Well, it’s so that actors don’t have to kiss but it tricks the audience. Basically one of the actors grabs the other’s face and kisses their thumbs.”
I was feeling pretty smug about knowing something Shinsou didn’t. Until he spoke again.
“I don’t understand. Maybe I’ll understand better if you showed me.”
I cough out a little bit in shock, yeah sure it’s a stage kiss and I wouldn’t actually be kissing him, but the idea makes me nervous. It’s not like I don’t want to kiss him, stage kiss him, it’s the opposite, I’ve grown fond of him and might even say I have a crush on him. I know that I don’t have a shot with him or anyone for that matter but I can’t help but wish for more than a stage kiss. But if a stage kiss is the closest I'll get to being with Shinso I'll take it.
Without saying anything I get up from my chair and move towards Shinso, I place my hands on his face and then I lift my thumbs positioning them in front of his lips. they flout above his lips as I pause for a second, thinking about touching his lips with my thumbs, it’s still intimate in my mind, but his puzzled look makes me place my thumbs down on his lips. There soft, I would have expected chapped lips but this is a pleasant surprise. I close my eyes and kiss my own thumbs, I keep my lips there longer than I do when I stage kiss Jiro, but Shinso won’t know that. I pull away and open my eyes, to see Shinso smiling and almost laughing, then he begins to laugh. I began to feel insignificant and stupid again. I know I don’t have a shot with some as amazing as Shinso but that doesn’t mean I didn’t still hope that the stage kiss would lead to something more, and real.
“Sorry for laughing. You really haven’t had your first kiss.”
It’s that obvious to him, sure I told him but how can he tell how inexperienced I am from just a stage kiss.
“What’s that suppose to mean?”
I asked in a more rude tone than I meant to.
"Well you closed your eyes, like the whole time, and you were there longer than needed.”
“You’re supposed to close your eyes, right. That’s what they do in movies and like it’s bad if you open your eyes, or that’s what I’ve heard.”
Shinso nods at my statement but it seems to be in a teasing way.
“Wel that right but you make it seem like life or death, your eyes aren’t just closed there squeezed shut, and with simple kisses that the .. um … the stage kiss is replicating, it’s short. Cause in real life it would be a little awkward to put your lips against someone else’s without at least some lip movement.”
I find his corrections on my stage kiss annoying, and I don’t try to hide it in my voice.
"Oh, so your some sort of kissing expert?”
“I wouldn’t call myself that, but I’m more experienced than you.”
I become more annoyed because his voice changed and he became more smug
"Well, it’s not my fault I haven’t had my first kiss!”
I yell at him.
“Neither is it mine.”
“Yes, it is because anyone who hasn’t tried to kiss me is at fault!”
I blurt out without think of consequences, and when I look at Shinso and his smug, flirtatious face I know that there’s going to be consequences.
“So if I kiss you then I can be free from being blamed?”
I go wide-eyed, I can’t tell if he’s being serious. And if he is I don’t know if I want my first kiss to be under these circumstances. Oh, who am I kidding I was ready to have my first kiss be with Jiro for a play. I try to ask him how serious he is but it stumbles out in pieces.
“How ….uu. I ho-how seri-serious is your.. Uhh ...your ..proposal?”
I sound like a mess. I watch as Shinso stands up from his chair moving closer to me. His left hand rests on my cheek. Leans in and whispers...
“As serious as you want it to be.”
We stand and stay in this position until Shinsou whispers more...
“I’m asking if I can kiss you.”
“Yes!”
The yes that falls out of my mouth is too fast and too quiet but Shinsou heard it and leaned in. I don’t like to admit that I’m wrong but I was and Shinso is right. Without movement this is awkward. But then he snickers with his lips still on mine, that’s when I realize he wasn’t moving on purpose to prove his point. He begins to move, and I half expect it to become a french kiss but it doesn’t. I follow his lips movement hoping that I’m doing it correctly.
We eventually pull away, both our faces tinted pink with blush. I’m not used to silence so I try to fill it.
"Wow, where did all that confidence come from?”
Shinso was often not as flirty as he has been for the past 10 minutes.
“Don’t know, it happens more than you’d expect.”
His hand does that thing that I’ve read in teen romance stories, where it goes behind their neck. I can see the movement of hair and fingers and I assume that it’s some sort of nervous tick to play with his hair, it cute.
“So I think we did enough work for one day, so I guess it’s time to go home.”
I nodded and turn back to grab my stuff, I turn around and Shinsou is already ready to go, waiting for me, but he doesn’t seem to be annoyed like most people are when I take longer to get ready. He locks up the room and we walk to the exit together. When we get outside I turn to start walking home, Shinsou turns the other way but before I get too far he turns back and yells at me.
“Do you need a ride? People shouldn’t walk this late at night, I don’t mind giving you a ride. “
I turn around and yell back...
"I don’t want to get you in trouble for being home late.”
“I’d probably get more in trouble if I let you walked, that’s how my dads are, so come on.”
He waves me over and I jog over to him.
During the ride we don’t talk much, letting the radio fill the car, scaring off the awkward silence. I told him my address and he uses a GPS for direction instead of asking me every 2 minutes when to turn. So I was able to just watch him, and I never realized how attractive people can be while driving till now. Especially the one hand on the wheel, his right hand still on the shift even though it an automatic, his left hand on the wheel. The same hand that was on my cheek less than 20 minutes ago. The realization brings color back to my face, I begin to think about the kiss again. My thinking almost always leads to questions that make me insecure, and like always, I begin to question. Along with my brain answering with the most likely answer
Did I do it right? No.
Did he like it? No.
Does he regret it? Of course.
Was it just a moment thing? Yes.
Or does it have a deeper meaning? No.
Will it happen again? Never, don’t even get your hopes up.
Will we become more than friends? Idiot.
Did he hate it? How else is someone supposed to feel after kissing you?
Is Jiro right? Has she ever been wrong, no, and that hasn’t changed.
Will he stop being my friend? Probably and if not, it’s pity.
Why did he do it? To teach you, cause your a lonely idiot.
Does he like me? Not even a question, of course not, look at him, then yourself. He would never like you.
“Denki is this it?”
I’m broken from the negative thoughts. Shinso has already parked, I look out the window, and sure enough, it is my house.
“Yeah."
I step out and grab my stuff, I close the door, the window rolls down.
"Have a good day Denki.”
"Yeah, you to Shinso.”
I begin to walk away but he yells out a little more...
"Call me Hitoshi. Also, It wasn’t a moment thing, and I want to see where this leads.”
My back was turned the whole time he said talked, I stand there frozen in disbelief. It’s only when I hear his car drive away that I breathe again, my first breath also being a whisper of his name.
I Shall Not Be All Alone
(Gen, Fortemps Brothers Fic)
[Read on Ao3]
Haurchefant prepares for his new life.
Emmanellain has doubts.
Artoirel has regrets.
Companion piece to "Till Then, I Dream", but works as a stand-alone piece
Background Haurchefant x WoL, Implied Aymeric x WoL. Takes place at Fortemps Manor during “Promises Kept.”
Rated T for references to past abuse and bullying
“Who taught you all this when you packed to leave?” His brother asks, opening said closet to reveal a yawning chasm. “Father, I assume.”
“Ah...I was not the clotheshorse you are.” Haurchefant averts his gaze to examine a silken robe imported from Kugane. His younger brother had been oblivious to certain facts of their childhood. By the time he was old enough to comprehend the vagaries, the rest of the family had adopted those strictures into habit.
Haurchefant adores him. Has all his life, though his memories begin when he was three or four years old and Emmanellain a rosy-cheeked babe he doted upon. But the younger man has never been the most perceptive. What he sees, he assumes is true unless led by the hand to view under the surface
It is a worrisome trait in a Knight Commander. Every day, Haurchefant wonders if this is the right thing. But he has seen how much Em has grown in the past months and the potential he has before him.
And were Haurchefant to renege, he is far from ready to resume his post.
“Pity. We might have taken society by storm had you the taste for it. You are the second-most handsome brother of us.”
“Oh Impetuous Youth, you cannot lie to me. I know you know that I am the best-looking of us three.”
“Ha! And how many paramours have you acquired in your life?”
Haurchefant smirks. “That is another game you do not want to play, O Brother Mine.”
His brother guffaws. The sound fades as he peruses his many brocades, holding each up to his body with lips pursed in contemplation. They all suit, tailor-made to emphasize his dark hair and blue eyes. Those same eyes flicker from one doublet to Haurchefant, to the doublet, and back.
“...I am a fool,” he says at last. Gaze boring into Haurchefant’s. “It wasn’t that you had no taste for it.”
Contrary to practically every asshole in Metropolis’ assumptions, Gotham had sunny days. Sunny days, in fact, bright and cheerful and blue with wispy soft clouds high, high in the sky, the skyscrapers all colorful and glimmering, the suburbs and apartment blocks full of life. Part of that life was aided by the Wayne family fortunes, and the Martha Wayne Foundation’s constant commitment to bettering the world for those who had been left in the dust by city council members and the Mayor’s office.
Even down in the Narrows, hardy flowers and little vegetable gardens, built in raised planters or punching through cracks in the sidewalks and alleys, tended by a trio of elderly florists, who even now were passing on their skills and bounty to the eager, pinched faces of the orphans who swarmed them.
It was good to see.
Even the various gang members left those hardy planters unmolested, walking around the dandelions and ice plants and stubborn ivy, and very few of even the most violent pricks to walk Gotham’s streets were willing to harm their own people, worn down and battered by all those above them. The Narrows might have been a place where supervillains recruited their henchmen, but it remained quietly protected, safer than many other boroughs of the city… And today, one such of its protectors, Spoiler, was settled quietly up on the rooftop of the old Baudelaire Flower shop, smiling a little as she watched over her neighborhood.
Sure, she could be patrolling; it was a Saturday, after all, but it was the first warm day of spring, a balmy seventy-two degrees with a light wind and a tiny hint of rain on the breeze. There weren’t any clouds in sight, but on the ocean as Gotham was, it wouldn’t surprise anyone if a spring storm built up and washed the city clean again. It’d just happened a week prior, and would again and again, and frankly, that was Steph’s favorite part of spring, even if she did love the sun. Thanks to Wayne Industries again for helping eliminate the acid rain problem that Gotham had been plagued with, and of course, a little…extra help shutting down Black Mask’s old metal plant had brought clearer skies back to Gotham, and so much less pollution.
Hell, it’d even brought jobs; she could see the solar panels glinting off the old smokestacks from the factories down by the bay, and the shipping warehouses that ringed the bay were full of new goods and former henchmen happy to have good paying jobs again without all the danger. Even the villains hadn’t had much problem with the changes; Joker hardly cared one way or another, Two-Face was perfectly fine with it, since, after all, it brought ‘balance’, and Penguin was actually going somewhat legit by retrofitting the old factories (and hadn’t that been a surprise to Bruce; turned out there was more profit in being better at the job than anyone else, and Cobblepot knew how to work that system). Harley and Ivy had both retired to live in Robinson Park, taking over an old caretaker’s cottage and managing the park’s needs quite neatly, thank you very much.
Black Mask, however…Steph closed her eyes to the memories, swallowing the anger and fear and pain, and opened them again at the familiar hissss of a helmet being removed, heavy boots crunching over the gravel on the rooftop beside her. Jason sat down on the ledge next to her, his red domino mask crinkling with his eyes over a warm smile, and Steph couldn’t help but smile back, sliding her own hood and mask down and letting her braid out of confinement, pulling her goggles up to keep back her bangs. Jason’s presence, as always, washed away the nightmare fuel that was Black Mask and his fucked up sins, and Steph breathed a little easier.
“Old memories, Blondie?” Damn, but he could read her like a book, but it wasn’t…like the others; even Dick could be too much at times, for all that he was a goofy sweetheart. Jason…well, maybe it was because they were both kids from the streets, a sort of trust that they were all raised with that just bled between them, like ink in the rain.
“Yeah…I appreciate the distraction, Jase. Thank you.” He chuckled at that, warm and low and so sexy, and Steph held back a sigh, her tummy curling with knots of pleasure and joy at him He was just…so kind and sweet to her, and those penetrating green-blue eyes held an interest that she’d fought to even see in Tim’s…All in all? Flirting with the Red Hood was a hell of a lot more fun. But first, always first, was their jobs; this was their home, and they would do anything to protect it.
“No problem…kinda figured from the look on your face. How’s the Narrows?” He kept his voice light, gentle, and Steph adored him for it; it was casual, understanding, and not another goddamn demand. Like B. Like Tim.
“Lookin’ good, everyone’s been…well, honestly, in a pretty decent mood today. One of the usual troublemakers was even napping under a tree over at the churchyard, so I just left him be after talking to John.”
“Father John okay’d it?”
“He said, and I quote; “Better anyone comes here to rest, than to cause trouble to others. I welcome them all with open arms and a cool drink.’” Jason smiled at that, another real, honest smile, and Steph grinned back; both of them liked Father John, not in the least because he looked like the pastoral version of Santa. He’d been setting out large coolers full of lemonade, tea, and water for people to take as they pleased when Steph had walked up, and knowing John, probably some homemade cookies too. And his only fee was a handshake, a hug, or a blessing, which had won him both Spoiler and Red Hood’s undying (or would it be dying? Kinda hard to tell) affection.
“I love that old guy. So, since things are looking decent, and I was just at the docks, even the old gangsters are sunning themselves over a game of Scopa. I saw Cobblepot and his crew working on the old paper factory, and really, doing a damn fine job of it. Even told him so myself, and I never thought I’d see the day Oswald Cobblepot didn’t try and shoot me on sight. Maybe the world really is ending.” She laughed at that, happy and bright, and he laughed too, pulling her easily into a hug against his side, and Steph shamelessly leaned into his bulk, sighing happily as he rubbed her shoulder. “So, fellow Dead Robin; how about we let B and the Replacement patrol tonight, and we go enjoy ourselves, hmm?” He murmured, lips moving against her forehead, and Steph nuzzled up a little, wrapping her arms around his waist.
That sounds an awful lot like a date to me… Her subconscious whispered, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks…but she pulled back a little to meet his eyes, reading the unspoken truth in them. He met her gaze, a tiny blush on his own face, covering strong cheekbones that could have been a dead ringer for Bruce Wayne if you didn’t know better, the wind playing with his soft wavy locks, the lone streak of white fluttering against his forehead. Jason Todd was devastatingly handsome, fiercely intelligent, and dangerous as the Narrows themselves…and Steph smiled, feeling those knots uncurl in happiness at the honest hope in his eyes.
“What’d you have in mind?” His grin was as bright as the sunshine bathing them both, and he winked.
