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Joshua had been excited about this date for weeks.
He didn’t say it out loud — he rarely did — but he had made the reservation himself, checked the reviews twice, even changed his shirt three times before picking her up.
And then she opened the door.
And yeah.
He forgot how to breathe for a second.
Her dress hugged her perfectly — short, stopping at her upper thigh, sleeveless but delicate threads crossing over her shoulders like something spun from starlight. The fabric caught the porch light when she moved. High heels that made her legs look endless. Hair falling softly around her face.
He just stood there.
She smiled, a little shy. “Is it too much?”
Joshua blinked. “You look…” He swallowed. “Unreal.”
And he meant it. He had been head over heels before, but tonight? He was gone.
Unfortunately, the universe hates when things go too smoothly.
The restaurant had messed up their reservation. Some loud group had taken over half the space. The waiter spilled water. The food was delayed. Joshua tried to brush it off — he really did — but he had planned this so carefully that every small inconvenience felt like a personal attack.
She noticed the tightness in his jaw. “It’s okay,” she whispered across the table, reaching for his hand.
He squeezed her fingers back, but there was frustration simmering under his calm face. Not at her. Never at her. Just… at the night.
They left earlier than planned.
He told himself they could salvage it. Maybe grab dessert somewhere quieter. Maybe just drive around and talk.
And then the car made a sound.
A very wrong sound. Joshua closed his eyes when the engine died.
You know that silence? That dangerous kind?
Yeah. That.
He stepped out, checked under the hood like he knew what he was doing (he didn’t), and exhaled sharply. “Don’t tell me,” she said softly from the passenger seat.
He shut the hood gently — too gently — because if he used any more force, he might actually lose it.
“We’re going to have to walk a bit. There’s a main road ten minutes from here.”
Ten minutes.
In heels.
At night.
In a dress made for sitting prettily at candlelight tables — not navigating uneven sidewalks.
She nodded anyway. “Okay.”
Joshua shrugged off his jacket before she could even say anything and draped it over her shoulders. It swallowed her frame, covering most of the exposed skin.
“You’ll get cold.”
“You need it more,” he said quietly.
They started walking.
At first, it was fine.
Then the road got rough.
Her steps became smaller. Slower. Careful. One heel caught between pavement cracks and she wobbled.
Joshua stopped immediately. “Careful.”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, adjusting her balance. But she wasn’t.
The straps of her heels were biting into her skin. The threads on her shoulders kept slipping. The night air felt sharper now. Every step was a reminder that she had dressed to impress — not to survive a roadside walk.
And she hated that she might be adding to his already bad mood.
Joshua was silent. Too silent.
The kind where he wasn’t mad at her — but he was frustrated at everything else. The restaurant. The car. The timing. Himself.
Gasoline on fire. She slowed again. Joshua noticed.
He always noticed. He stopped walking. Without a word, he crouched slightly in front of her. She blinked. “What are you doing?” He turned his head just enough. “Come here.” Her heart stuttered. “Joshua, no, I can walk—”
“You’re not walking like that anymore.”
“I don’t want to make it worse—”
He stood up fully and faced her. His expression wasn’t angry.
It was soft. Just tired.
“You’re not making anything worse.”
Before she could argue again, his arm slid behind her knees, the other supporting her back, and suddenly—
She was in his arms. Bridal style. Like she weighed nothing.
She gasped softly, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Joshua—” “Shh,” he murmured. And then he started walking again.
The world felt different from up here.
She could feel his heartbeat through his chest. Steady. Warm. Protective.
The streetlights passed above them in slow intervals. His jacket draped around her legs. One of her heels dangled from her fingers.
“I’m heavy,” she whispered.
He huffed the smallest laugh. “You’re not.”
“You had a bad night and now you have to carry me too.”
He didn’t answer. Which worried her more.
She leaned her forehead lightly against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
He stopped walking. Not abruptly. Just enough to make her look at him.
His brows furrowed. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because today was supposed to be good. And I think I made it harder.”
His grip tightened slightly, like the idea offended him.
“You dressing up for me is not a problem,” he said quietly. “The car breaking down is not your fault. The restaurant messing up is not your fault.”
She swallowed. “But you’re upset.”
“Yeah,” he admitted.
Honest. Soft. “But not at you.”
The way he said it made her chest ache.
“I just wanted tonight to be perfect,” he continued. “You looked so beautiful and I thought… I don’t know. I wanted to give you something nice.”
She smiled sadly. “You did.”
He resumed walking. “I didn’t,” he muttered.
“You did,” she insisted gently. “I got to see you nervous when you picked me up. I got to watch you pretend to understand car engines. I got carried like I’m in some cliché romance movie.”
That earned the tiniest smile from him.
“Don’t romanticize my bad luck.”
“I will,” she said stubbornly. “Because I like being with you. Even when things go wrong.”
He looked at her then. Really looked at her.
Makeup slightly smudged from the night. Hair a little messy from the wind. Still looking like something out of a dream — just a softer one now.
He adjusted his hold and walked the rest of the way without another complaint.
By the time they reached home, his arms were definitely tired — but he didn’t show it.
He kicked the door closed behind them and gently set her down near the couch.
The silence inside felt different from the street.
Quieter. Safer. She slipped off her heels fully this time and placed them aside. Joshua ran a hand through his hair and exhaled deeply. That’s when she walked up to him.
And hugged him. Tight. Her arms around his waist. Her cheek against his chest.
“I’m really sorry,” she said again, softer now. His hands hovered for a second before wrapping around her. “It wasn’t your fault,” he repeated. “I know,” she said. “But I hate seeing you disappointed.”
He rested his chin on top of her head.
“I’m not disappointed anymore.”
She pulled back slightly. “You’re not?”
“No.” His thumb brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I’m annoyed at circumstances. But I still got to spend the night with you.”
Her lips curved into a small smile.
“And you looked at me like I hung the moon,” she teased lightly. He rolled his eyes — but his ears turned slightly red. “You did look unreal.”
She stepped closer again. “You know what would fix your mood?”
“What.” She guided him gently toward the couch. “Cuddling.”
He didn’t argue. They sank into the cushions. She curled into him, legs tucked carefully against his side. His arm wrapped around her shoulders automatically, pulling her in like second nature.
The tension slowly left his body. She traced small circles on his chest with her finger.
“I don’t need perfect dates,” she murmured. “I just need you.” He pressed a soft kiss to her hair.
“I’ll still try to give you perfect ones.” “I know,” she smiled.
He leaned back, pulling her more securely against him. “Next time,” he said, voice low, “we’re picking a place within walking distance.”
She laughed softly. “Deal.” “And no heels.”
She gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? The heels were part of the vision.” “The vision almost sprained an ankle.”
“But you carried me.” He looked down at her. “…Yeah.” And honestly? He would do it again. Bad restaurant. Broken car. Ruined plans. None of it mattered as much as the warmth currently tucked into his side.
His fingers traced slow patterns on her arm. Her breathing evened out.
Outside, the night continued like nothing had happened.
Inside, they stayed tangled together on the couch — irritation melted into quiet affection.
Some dates are candlelight and violins.
Some are broken engines and sore feet.
But the best ones?
Are the ones where you still end up exactly where you’re meant to be.
Going to a restaurant run by people who want to kill you is actually very romantic, right?
Right?
Two of @yearoftheotpevent 's September prompts, "date night gone wrong" and (Napoleon making a failed attempt at) "semi public sex" Textless version under the cut!
Haleth loses a bet, Caranthir loses a fraternal dispute. They're forced into a blind date...with each other.
Alas, they once knew one another only too well...
Prompts: high school/college sweethearts, “come here”, date night gone wrong, semi-public sex, abduction, Thinking Bout You – Frank Ocean
Pairing: Haleth x Caranthir
Words: 3 305
Warnings: vaginal sex, heartache, penetrative sex, sex in a restaurant
“So, about that bet you lost…”
Haleth stared at her friend, feigning innocence and ignorance. “What?”
Of course, she remembered the foolish wager she’d made and deplorably lost, but she’d hoped that the other woman would forget about it in time.
“Listen, I’m not a monster. I organised a date for you.”
Even though she very much didn’t like the sound of that, Haleth kept her mouth shut and her demeanour calm as she listened to the other’s long-winded explanations.
“As far as I know, he’s not only handsome but also has a good job in finance…”
“So what’s the catch?” Haleth jeered; she loved and trusted this specific friend enough not to be overly worried that she’d end up spending the evening with a serial killer.
Moreover, Haleth was certain that she could defend herself well enough if the situation turned dicey.
“He’s known to be…critical. I fear he’s not very social, and his friends and siblings are getting a little worried about him. Sounds lonely, don’t you think?”
“Very well,” Haleth said, relieved that it would take so little to get rid of the looming debt she’d made inadvertently. “I’m in. I can never resist the attempt to save a basket case. Where are we to meet and what should I wear?”
Haleth was by no means a vain woman, but she didn’t want to show up in athleisure to a fancy restaurant, or—on the contrary—be caught wearing a cocktail dress in a hole in the wall.
“As I said, he’s a man of good taste,” her friend squeaked. She’d evidently not expected Haleth to agree so readily. “So, I’d say go with something elegant and classic.”
“Stuffy, you mean?” Haleth teased while already mentally browsing through her limited formal wardrobe.
“Friday?”
“Friday works for me, yeah,” Haleth sighed and motioned at the fridge behind them. “Get me another beer and explain how and why I get this questionable honour.”
For the next two hours, she listened to her devious companion as she drew the portrait of a profoundly misunderstood loner with dark hair and beautiful eyes.
“I’ve seen one picture of him, and I can promise you that he’s quite the looker.”
Shrugging, Haleth reiterated her position on good looks as she’d done a thousand times before. She did not care about the appearance of a man as long as he was kind, interesting, and courteous.
“Like, I’m not saying you should sleep with him,” her friend drawled, swinging her own drink around recklessly. “Nevertheless, I definitely think that it could benefit both of you to let loose a little bit.”
Ah, Haleth thought, now we get to the crux of the matter. Her friends believed her to be unduly picky when it came to sexual and romantic partners, which was—all things considered—a fair assessment.
Alas, they didn’t know that she was still nursing a broken heart, because she never spoke about the one she’d left after college and had regretted ever since.
Looking up and down the deserted street, Caranthir couldn’t help the queasy feeling in his gut from turning into pull-blown wariness.
Something was wrong.
He should, of course, have known better. Why would Celegorm and Curufin invite him to go out with them if they hadn’t hatched out some unholy plan to denigrate and shame him?
He was about to turn around and go back home when he was wrenched into a grimy alley by four strong arms.
“Unhand me,” Caranthir yelled, relieved that his voice was strong and unwavering despite the shock thrumming through his limbs like lightning. “Don’t you know who my father is? I shall not be abducted so easily. Also, nobody will pay a ransom for me; they’ll hardly notice that I’m missing. They might even welcome it, come to think about it further.”
“Don’t be silly,” Celegorm’s suave voice resounded. “We wouldn’t pay a ransom for you because we’d come and free you, of course. Also, we know perfectly well who your father is.”
Mortified, Caranthir whirled around.
“You wound my heart,” Curufin drawled, his eyes growing wide and wet on command. “Abduction! How can a devoted sibling’s love be given such a terrible, defamatory name?”
Baring his teeth in annoyance, Caranthir let them steer him through the alley and down another, much better-visited street until they stopped outside a neat, rather elegant restaurant.
“Not your usual kind of eatery,” he commented disobligingly.
Celegorm merely sucked his teeth at this feeble attempt at riling him up. “Indeed not,” he then agreed freely. “Good thing then that I don’t intend to have dinner here.”
“Neither do I,” Caranthir spat, even though he had very much planned to do so in the near future. Nevertheless, he didn’t see the sense in admitting that resolution to his wayward, insolent brothers.
“Well, that is tough luck,” Curufin jeered. “You have a reservation in…” He checked his expensive wristwatch flippantly. “5 minutes. I’m sure your date is already waiting for you.”
“Unlike other savages, you certainly wouldn’t want to be late, would you?” Celegorm added in a disgustingly saccharine tone.
“My what now?” Caranthir screeched, digging his hands into his pockets to keep himself from trying to strangle his brothers. “What have you done?”
“Ah, it’s a long story. Let’s just say, we were confronted with a challenge—finding a date for some sharp-tongued lady—and we took the matter very seriously.”
“Did you? Did you really? Or did you just sacrifice your own brother in a last-ditch effort not to forfeit?” Caranthir said, ice-cold mockery dripping from every word he spoke.
Cackling good-humouredly, the sinister henchmen with whom he shared blood and history scampered away merrily, leaving Caranthir exactly 3 minutes to get to the table that had been booked in his name.
As the waiter took him to a secluded corner of the main room, though, the unwitting gallant’s blood ran cold.
There, scrolling through her phone slowly, sat his ex-girlfriend, who was the love of his life.
“Yeah, that fits,” Haleth groaned as she looked up, only to see the man she’d left so many years ago. “Tall, handsome, and ill-tempered.”
“Good evening to you, too,” Caranthir replied stiffly, going as far as to insinuate a bow.
He’d always been laughably formal, and Haleth at once remembered why she’d fallen for that odd, charming amalgamation of a hot temper and a soft heart so irreversibly.
“I guess it’s true when they say that you always meet twice,” she said, motioning at the empty chair on the other side of the small, intimate table they’d been granted. “Sit, Moryo. We have a duty to fulfil, and I shall not defect.”
“Neither will I,” he declared haughtily.
Once he was seated, though, his mien softened. “How have you been, Haleth?”
She grimaced expressively.
“I achieved what I set out to do,” she then replied evasively.
“And now, you’re back in town. Didn’t think of giving me a ring, though, did you?”
“Only a million times,” she admitted, swirling the little stirrer through her half-empty cocktail glass pensively. “But what good would that have done? What was I to say?”
He shrugged. To anyone else, it might have translated as dispassion or even disinterest, but Haleth knew better. He was also still hurting.
They’d had a good run in college, nobody could deny that, but she’d ended up leaving the city to seek her fortune elsewhere, and he’d been unwilling or unable to go with her.
Thus had ended a love story such as the world had rarely seen before, and Haleth hadn’t stopped regretting his absence for a single day in the intervening years.
Of course, she wouldn’t admit as much to him. Why reopen old wounds?
Neither one of them could turn back time and change their younger selves’ minds, so she might as well keep her sorrow and remorse to herself.
“I’d have loved to hear from you,” Caranthir said in a voice that sounded unexpectedly earnest and open.
Mayhap, Haleth considered with a jolt of surprise, he’d grown and matured beyond the stubborn, hot-headed, passionate fool she’d loved so endlessly.
“I didn’t think that it would have been fair to hit you up…after all these years,” she confessed.
“Why not? No hard feelings—I understand why you had to leave, and I’ve ever wished you only the best.”
Haleth’s brows drew together in an unequivocal expression of disbelief.
“Perhaps not at the very first, but soon enough,” he amended his initial phrasing. “I’m glad to hear that things have worked out well for you. So, are you just passing through or…”
“No,” Haleth confessed. “I moved back here. Officially, I’m spearheading an expansion project, but I owe you the truth.”
She took a deep breath, emptied her glass in one long gulp, and looked him straight in the eye.
“This is the place I’ve been happiest,” she said in a halting, throaty voice. “And I’ve missed it.”
“It?” Caranthir asked sharply. “Or me?”
“Both,” she conceded.
Struck dumb by that admission, Caranthir stared at her for a few breathless seconds.
“I’d have thought that a woman like you wouldn’t encounter any problems finding someone to replace grumpy, cold me,” he then quipped self-deprecatingly.
“Never,” Haleth laughed, throwing her head back in unguarded, unabashed hilarity. “There’s nobody who could compare. How dull, dumb, and dilettantish any other man has struck me. No, there was you, and it was beyond what words could describe. And then, there was your absence…”
“I hope it didn’t ail you,” he said hastily, reaching out instinctively to cradle her strong fingers against his palm.
Before he could retreat, humiliated by his faux pas, she’d intertwined her digits with his.
“It was like losing a limb,” she confessed in a low, uncertain voice. “Painful and traumatic. And then, the agony faded into a constant throbbing. The worst was the phantom pain—the wonderful dreams that only revealed themselves to have been nightmares upon waking. But enough about my mistakes and regrets; it’s in the past. How have you been?”
“I have been kidnapped by my brothers only tonight,” Caranthir grumbled. “They’re all in good health and even better spirits.”
“Good,” Haleth replied curtly. “I care nought about their well-being right now. How are you, dear?”
“Overworked, under-stimulated, and profoundly lonely,” he sighed. “The usual, I guess.”
The corners of his mouth drooped before quirking. “I shall have to thank my brothers for forcing me into an arranged, blind date. Had they known that it was you, they wouldn’t have been able to resist making crude insinuations, so I know that this must be a genuine stroke of fate.”
“A good one, I hope,” Haleth said, looking suddenly insecure. She’d said too much, bared her soul too openly, and she was desperately trying to pull her walls back up.
“The best,” he assured her. “I’m not too proud to admit that I’ve been surveying the horizon since the day you packed up and left in hopes that you’d come back one day. It pleases me to hear that you have not forgotten me, for I have been nursing the wound you’ve dealt me without much success for the last years as well.”
Despite its excellent reviews, the restaurant started to be rather disappointing as nobody had even tried to approach them with the menu thus far.
“Come here,” Haleth whispered, cocking one finger beckoningly.
Caranthir leaned forward instantly.
“They have a charming garden in the back. In summer, they must serve food out there, but it’s presently deserted. How about we take a stroll out there together?”
He knew the devious gleam in her eyes only too well, and his throat grew dry and tight with longing as he recognised the undiluted lust radiating from her in tangible waves.
Thus, he could only nod and follow her as she leapt to her feet and dashed towards the lavatory, taking a sharp left at the last moment and pushing open the door to the veranda.
As soon as she felt the cool night air caress her skin, Haleth raced towards the decorative fountain in the corner of the small, fenced garden.
It was plunged in shadow and mystery—exactly what she wanted and needed.
For a second, she wondered whether she was making a mistake; so much time had passed, and they had indubitably changed in unfathomable ways in the meantime.
And then, Caranthir’s comparatively slender frame—all long, elegant limbs and alluring firmness—slammed into her, pressing her against the trellis.
When his lips found the curve of her mouth, he felt, at the same time, exactly as she remembered and yet entirely different.
Maybe it was the superior quality of his casual suit or the discreet expansion of the sleek, wiry muscles trembling under her searching fingers, but Haleth could undeniably sense that he’d evolved.
Then again, the tiny, breathy sounds escaping him in irregular spurts stirred up memories she’d tried so hard to repress and erase.
Her whole body came alive, and she arched into his embrace demandingly.
Of course, this kind of behaviour was absurd—they were accomplished professionals now and risking exposure and public shame for a doomed intermezzo was beyond idiotic.
And yet, Haleth moaned softly as her fitted, dark brown dress was pushed upwards, revealing her only set of fancy lingerie.
Feeling the thin, smooth lace, Caranthir gasped. “I thought you hated that kind of underwear,” he murmured, audibly stunned.
“Impulse buy,” she confessed. “Never worn before.”
“Did you think of me when you bought it?” Caranthir husked, driving himself as insane with want as her by delving into that kind of lewd banter.
“The thought might have crossed my mind, yeah,” Haleth chuckled darkly as she let her hand travel up his leg until she could cup the firm ridge distending the fine fabric eagerly.
The explosive groan with which he rewarded her for her shameless forwardness was music to her ears—Haleth hadn’t forgotten how vocal and loud Caranthir could be, and she was delighted that this hadn’t changed.
“Do you really want…here?” he sounded flustered, scandalised, and excited in equal measures.
“This ludicrous date night is an ephemeral, enchanted portal to a life we’ve lost,” she purred.
“One you gave up,” he corrected sternly.
“It would be such a shame to let it dissolve unexploited, no?”
Her mind felt hazy, and all she was sure of anymore was that she’d never respected, desired, or loved anyone half as much as she’d adored this monument of sharp wit and reluctant sentimentality pressing against her now.
“Despite everything,” she went on, trying to convince herself as much as she sought to sway her potential lover, “we were always good at this.”
And it was true—they’d had lots of passionate, toe-curling, mind-numbing sex during their college days.
What difference would one more imprudent, impassionate indiscretion in a deserted decorative garden make in the grand scheme of their lives?
Finally, Caranthir seemed to have come to a conclusion.
“Go ahead then,” he whispered, half-dreading that it had all just been a lark, or that he’d wake up, drenched in sweat and tears, in a painfully empty room.
Even though he sometimes felt that he remembered every second spent at Haleth’s side with torturous clarity, he was still surprised at how effortlessly her movements still were.
It was as if she’d never left. Her hands were steady and fearless as they undid his trousers just enough for his erection to spring free.
And then, those strong, intrepid fingers were wrapped around him, coaxing the most undignified, needy sounds from his parched throat.
“I missed you,” he said, entirely out of context.
“I know,” she grinned. “I can feel that.”
Caranthir wanted to be vexed, but during their relationship, his propensity for jealousy and possessiveness had been a cause for tension more than once, so he knew that he had no leg to stand on.
Feeling an odd sense of urgency, he let his own fingers dance along the fine lace covering her mound once more and was amazed and delighted to learn that the flimsy fabric was positively soaked.
Of course, he still had reservations. During the long years since Haleth’s heartbreaking departure, he’d often imagined what he’d say and do if he ever got the chance to meet her again.
Ravaging her haphazardly in the backyard of some swanky restaurant hadn’t been part of that fantasy, but her nimble, teasing ministrations had reduced his resistance to ashes.
He felt like a starving wretch, dragging his emaciated body through the dust to make it to a haven of peace and plenty—if she didn’t take pity on him soon, he’d combust where he stood.
The seconds ticked by like silent warnings; they’d deserted their table, and, before long, someone would necessarily come out to look for them.
When he reached up to cup her cheek, all the words of desperate, unquenched affection brimming up within him burning on his tongue, Haleth gave him an impatient hiss and slung her hand around the back of his neck to pull him closer.
Colliding with her like a meteor crashing into an unyielding planet, Caranthir read the signs of her trembling body and bent his knees.
“This is not over,” he promised as he surged into her smoothly.
Her body clenched around the intrusion, and his heart skipped a beat. It felt like coming home after a long, wearying journey. It was perfect.
Holding her up as he thrust into her with selfish abandon, Caranthir felt tears gather in the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them spill over and ruin the moment.
Even after all these years, his body recalled the angle, the speed, and the amount of additional friction that had made her come undone so beautifully.
His mind shut off as the visceral instinct took over.
Clawing at his neck, Haleth gave small, muted screams of pure pleasure that drove him ever on.
“Faster,” she commanded.
By the time they’d caught their breath, cleaned up as well as they could, and rearranged their clothing, someone had ostentatiously placed the glossy leather menus on their abandoned table.
“You’re still flushed,” Haleth grinned, thoroughly enjoying the shockwaves of warmth and welcome soreness flickering through her body.
“Well, this was rather a surprising turn of events, wouldn’t you agree?” Caranthir replied coolly, sipping the overpriced white wine he so loved.
“I’d apologise if I didn’t know that you’ve enjoyed it,” she grinned. “You were always much more adventurous than you let people believe.”
“I was not,” he contradicted. “I am not. It’s you—it’s always been you who’s brought out that side of me.”
“Are you trying to flatter me?”
She could see various replies go through his head, but he didn’t verbalise any of them.
“I loved you,” he finally stated, draining his drink in one go. “And, if this evening has proved anything at all, it’s that I didn’t delude myself. You really are the only one who can make me feel and act like that.”
“Like what?” Haleth asked in a forcibly light tone.
“Like them,” he groaned. “When I’m with you, my brothers suddenly seem much less absurd and insane.”
“Are they here?” she asked, trying hard to sound casual. “I’ve only ever seen them on videochats.”
“Some,” Caranthir admitted grudgingly. “Do you want to meet them? I’m almost certain that two of them are in the immediate vicinity.”
“Probably with my terribly wicked friend, yeah,” Haleth agreed. “Why not?”
“Let’s eat first, though,” Caranthir grinned and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket to extract a shiny plastic card. “Lifted this one from Tyelko. I’m sure, as this was his plot, he won’t mind covering our dinner.”
“Adventurous, as I said,” Haleth cackled.
➜ Masterlist
@yearoftheotpevent here's the September fic for you!
oo i love teen danbert! what about “let me do the talking” for them?
"Just let me do the talking, okay?" Dan muttered as they approached the counter. Herbert said nothing so Dan turned his attention to the droopy-eyed cashier, flipping through a magazine. He cleared his throat and put on his most polite tone. "Can I get change for a dollar, please?"
"Sure." The cashier set his magazine down and looked up. "You want quarters or-"
He froze when his eyes landed on Dan and Herbert. Dan couldn't blame him though. He could only imagine what must've been going through the guy's mind, seeing the two of them standing there, splattered from head to toe in mud. They'd tracked a trail of mud through the store, and Dan had to remind Herbert not to touch anything and leave evidence of their grimy hands.
"Quarters are fine," Dan answered when the guy, no more than a few years older than him, continued to gawk.
He pushed the sopping bill across the counter and the guy gingerly took it. Dan glanced at Herbert as the register dinged open, only to find him silently glaring straight ahead through his mud-streaked glasses.
"So, uh," the cashier began as he tipped the quarters into Dan's palm. "What happened to you guys?"
"Don't ask," Dan pleaded.
At the same moment Herbert said, "We got bogged." Dan sighed but Herbert had started and now he continued in a tirade, his voice growing louder and faster with every word. "I said we shouldn't park so close to marsh, because it's been raining so much lately and the ground's so soft. But was I listened to? No. Of course not. Apparently, because I can't drive I also don't know how mud works."
Dan stayed silent as this went on, staring blankly ahead and scratching at the mud drying around his nose.
"So then what happens?" Herbert ranted, his hands flailing about his head. "We come back and the tires have sunk halfway into the ground. I say we should call a tow truck or at least someone to just come and get us, but no. Apparently, this is fine. Then we push, and we sink halfway into the ground. It takes that before we can finally admit defeat and look for a payphone, only to find we have no quarters. So now, here we are, in some gas station in the middle of nowhere."
He finished with a huff, his face red with the speech. The cashier silently looked back and forth between them, his eyes wide. Dan pursed his lips and pocketed the coins.
"Um," the guy said. "You guys can use the phone here if you need?"
"Thanks," Dan said quickly before Herbert could snap out anything else. "That would be great."
Herbert huffed again and marched off. Dan thought, blessedly, that he was going to wait outside, but then Herbert's voice came from the back of the store.
"You're buying me this coke!"
There was the sound of a fridge door closing, then the bell above the door chiming as Herbert strode through. Dan sighed, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion as the events of the night started to catch up with him.
The cashier gave him a sympathetic look. "Your friend sounds like he's your wife, dude."
Dan swept his mud-caked hair back and breathed out through his nose. "Yeah. He's a real peach."
Dan just hoped his mom wouldn't notice all the mud when she did the laundry.
My Favorite Human Ch. 2: I Want YOU in This Custody Fight
Summary: It’s not a date if you argue about the kids in front of the restaurant staff.
Chapters: 1, 2, 3
Chase tried to dress nice when he came to this building. It was one of the fancier restaurants under Dark’s control. He didn’t have a whole lot of nice suits but he did have a white button-up and a black vest. But that was as far as he got.
Dark never seemed to mind either way. After all this was strictly business. They’d talk about the twins, and then Chase would leave. The Entity would offer for Chase to order something from the menu, “on me”, and the marksman would always turn him down, even before he first glanced at the menu.
After he’d seen the menu he was determined to never order anything from this place because it was way too much for anything.
But the view . . . the view was amazing. The restaurant was situated by the river and so at night it looked amazing. Dark was always in a private business room, to make sure their conversations couldn’t be easily overheard by errant patrons.
As Chase walked up, sans superhero outfit or mask because he didn’t want his meetings with Dark getting on the news at all, a waiter led him right to Dark.
When Chase walked in he had his usual crisis, his feet stopping and a weight settling in his heart. Dark had his back to him as he looked out into the city.
Chase got his feet to work and he took his usual seat.
Dark sighed when Chase sat down, “I heard what happened.”
“Mori and Tempus think he’s better now, least he’s not runnin’[1] around naked in the woods anymore,” Chase reported. “I think Mem got most ‘a[2] it out ‘a[2] his system.”
Dark clicked his tongue. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him, at least the others don’t have to be watched so some random hiker wouldn’t get attacked.”
That got a chuckle out of Chase, settling a bit in his chair. “Really? I find that hard ta[3] believe.”
“Arthur was a bit of a handful but at least he could be contained to his books. He didn’t actively seek to become chaos itself.” Dark’s fingers drummed casually on his desk.
“Prolly[4] could have cut him off beforehand if I hadn’t been on patrol this mornin’[5],” Chase’s eyes tracked over as a waiter came in to bring some wine for Dark and a water for Chase, he was braced for a random attack. It was mostly out of habit — because of Clubs — but still trained all the same.
Dark’s aura circled around the rim of his wine glass. “Yes, Illinois commented the same.”
The Entity’s aura hummed as he thought, he twisted the base of glass with two fingers. “I was thinking that perhaps the problem is not that they need constant supervision, it’s merely that they’re bored and they do the first thing that comes to mind.”
“Not sure how I can help with that ta[3] be honest,” Chase admitted.
Dark paused to take an especially long sip of his wine. “It has occurred to me that perhaps if they spend a bit long thinking about the ideas they have that maybe they would make wiser decisions. They are very young spawnlings, and there is a certain impulse that such young demons only have when they have never been threatened and feel safe in a territory.”
“Really?” Chase smiled. “Yeh[6] were impulsive back in the day? Would’a[7] loved ta[3] see that.”
Looking away, Dark took another sip, “No, I made Egoton into what it is today so I would not have to waste my time finding a new territory every couple of decades.”
The smile didn’t fade from Chase’s face quite yet. “So yeh[6] got any plans fer[8] the twins, err, boys.”
At that mistake, the smile did drop and Chase was glaring out the window for a full second or two. “Yeh[6] got any plans fer[8] the boys?”
“A couple,” Dark mercifully ignored the slip up. “My first option was to just stick them with Illinois, he’s more than mentally equipped to corral chaotic spawnlings. But with the wedding coming up, I figured . . .”
Dark trailed off, waving his hand dismissively, “Best not to leave the responsibility with Illinois.”
Chase felt the urge to say something, but he didn’t even know what that something was, so he kept quiet. He preoccupied himself with wiping down the condensate from his glass.
“Tempus is fine on her own, but if I leave her to them, she’d only mildly protest at whatever they do and then record them, and Wil only seems to enable their destructive behavior,” Dark continued.
“Hmph, that’s Bubbles fer[8] yeh[6],” Chase dismissed coldly. “I think he might e’en be givin’ ‘em ideas.”[9]
“Oh, of that I have no doubt,” Dark agreed, “Tempus too, a couple of their more harebrained stunts have actually been her idea, despite Memento’s insistence that he’s the brains of their operation.”
That got a chuckle out of Chase.
“But that still leaves me with a problem, namely that apart from Illinois or myself there seems to be only one other person who can reason with them, or at least enough that they don’t get themselves into legal trouble. Their minor antics are fine, especially if they can confine it to the Manor, but running around the parks or beaches is getting them into trouble, and getting them noticed by demon hunters.”
“Yikes, didn’t know it was that bad yet,” Chase sat up a little straighter.
“It’s nothing that can’t be handled, but I was thinking, and Kay and Illinois posed the idea themselves, that you could help,” Dark proposed, his expression neutral and guarded. “Since you seem to be the only other person they listen to.”
Chase was quiet, the room was so quiet that he could dimly hear chatter from the other room. He wasn’t exactly sure where this conversation was going. “I’m tryin’ ta watch ‘em, but I still got patrols ta keep up with. I’ve got ta deal with random bullshite that the Duke or Anti cause in the city. I’m still part ‘a the Coalition.”[10]
“The heroes have more than enough people to deal with them,” Dark dismissed.
“Dark, I’ll keep doin’ e’erythin’ I can fer the boys, but I’m tryin’ ta stay on good behavior,”[11] Chase reminded him. “It’s bad enough they’re barely lettin’ me see my other kids, I don’t know what they’d do if I wasn’t bein’ a hero. It’s the only thin’ I got goin’ fer me.”[12]
Dark meant to be reassuring, that Chase was a natural parental figure underneath his poor mental health and self-incriminating bad choices. That they’d made a mistake when Chase was denied his children. But such words required a certain amount of emotional vulnerability from Dark, and the Entity could never allow himself to be vulnerable, even when it was desperately needed.
So the words that came out of his mouth were, “I could make sure there were no problems.”
Chase froze, staring at Dark in alarm. Normally his head and heart were at war. Between wanting to treat Dark like a dearly loved friend, and his head who reminded Chase that Dark was a dangerous, demonic mob boss. Someone who destroyed lives that didn’t suit him.
At this moment there was no discourse.
“What does that mean?” Chase’s tone was terse.
“I don’t see why anyone should have a problem with you seeing any of your children, Anti has not used you as a host in months. He has not targeted you in even longer. The correct people merely need . . . convincing.”
“No!” Chase snapped, surging up so he was away from the table. “Don’t! Just stop right there. Yer not gonna threaten or “convince” anyone. Stacy’s fine. She’s doin’ fine with ‘em. If yeh could get yer fookin’ claws outta Paddy that’d be e’en better.”[13]
“Your eldest has his own goals and if he wants to achieve it through my Network, I see no reason to stop him,” Dark dismissed. “He is an expert marksman who’s time and skill were being squandered on running around with other delinquents pretending to be gangsters. Crime and trouble would have found him if I hadn’t swept in and taken him.”
Chase made some ugly snort that carried his disbelief and offense.
“The four of them are already embroiled in the Network, it would certainly make things simpler,” Dark suggested, immediately doubling down on his point.
“Simpler?” Chase scoffed. “Fer who? I’m not gonna fookin’ sit on my arse until they do somethin’, it’s not like I’ve got anythin’ useful fer yer little crime organization.”[14]
Dark gave Chase a look.
Chase just stared at the Entity in alarm, “No.”
“You denying the very nature of your magic and soul doesn’t make it any less true,” Dark commented, metaphorically shoving his foot right into his mouth.
“No,” Chase repeated a little more firmly. “Fook[15] off.”
“The heroes have had a top marksman for years and yet you are sidelined constantly,” Dark commented. “Even if you’re not killing in my Network your skills would be more useful. You don’t even have to be in the room to do the job.”
“So that’s what this is?” Chase spat. “I’m just some asset fer yeh ta buy?”[16]
In the absence of anything that wasn’t an emotionally charged response, Dark fell silent.
Chase threw his hands up, so angry that there was a very furious grin where teeth ground together, “No. We’ll keep the system we got, it’s workin’[17] just fine.”
The marksman was boiling with rage and it didn’t help that Dark wasn’t confirming or denying it.
Dark stayed quiet, and when Chase looked back at him he let out a groan of annoyance and stormed off and out of the building.
The Entity didn’t stop him, he was too busy tending to his blue soul who was trying to follow Chase but was stopped because Dark was staying in his seat.
“He’s angry,” Damien commented in their shared headspace, his fragmented soul full of nothing but emotion and none of the social cues that kept those emotions from being acted on. “What did I do?”
“He’s a human, it’s all they do,” Dark’s red soul commented dryly. She was already wanting to leave, fretting about the mountain of work they needed to do.
“We can give him things,” Damien suggested hopefully, looking to Dark for approval.
Why? Dark asked. Is he the man we’ve been sleeping with for decades? Because I seem to remember someone a little more pink and mad. Or am I wrong?
Dark’s blue soul curled in on himself and stopped pulling the Entity to follow after Chase. He was more subdued than he’d been in a while.
It let Dark finally leave and head back to the warehouses to get some work done. And if Damien urged Dark to give little macabre trinkets to the triplets, he only hesitated for a little bit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Post A/N: Man, if Dark and Anti were half as good at communicating as they were at killing people, all their problems would be solved!
Accessibility Translations:
1. running
2. of
3. to
4. Probably
5. morning
6. You
7. Would have
8. for
9. I think he might even be giving them ideas.
10. I’m trying to watch them, but I’ve still got patrols to keep up with. I’ve got to deal with random bullshit that the Duke or Anti cause in the city. I’m still part of the Coalition.
11. Dark, I’ll keep doing everything I can for the boys, but I’m trying to stay on good behavior
12. It’s bad enough they’re barely letting me see my other kids, I don’t know what they’d do if I wasn’t being a hero. It’s the only thing I got going for me
13. Don’t! Just stop right there. You’re not going to threaten or “convince” anyone. Stacy’s fine. She’s doing fine with them. If you could get your fucking claws out of Paddy that’d be even better.
14. For who? I’m not going to fucking sit on my ass until they do something, it’s not like I’ve got anything useful for your little crime organization.
Moth came into Phantom's office at 8:30 pm, wearing a rather nice cocktail dress and stockings with heels. They were wearing his collar of course, but looked irritated. "Are you forgetting something, dearest?" They crossed their arms. "Something along the lines of, oh I don't know.... Dinner? We've missed the reservation." They huffed. "I understand you need this work done. But this is the third date you've blown off! You said you'd make time!" They shook, halfway between anger and crying.
Phantom looked up from his work with a small smile. “Hello darling... You look ravishing..” His smile dropped, however, at the mention of dinner. Shit. He knew he fucked up. “Moth, darling, I am so sorry..” He rushed to Moths side immediately to console them. “I’m so sorry, I truly am... How about this.” He started, gently drying their eyes.
“I’ll go hop in the shower and get ready, you go touch up whatever you need to, and then we can go to this really exclusive restaurant across town, the waiting list is over a year long, but the owners owe me a favor so we could get in tonight. We don’t even have to go there though! I’m sure I can make things work with the restaurant we were going to go to!” He kissed their lips gently. “And after dinner, we can do whatever you want, okay baby..?”
