Just disgustingly cute moments with Iharu. Enjoy <3
Pairing: Iharu Furuhashi x GN!Reader
Length: Short
A/N: This wasn't supposed to be so tooth-rottingly fluffy but I feel good about this one.
I've seen such a distinct lack of fanfics that aren't about Hoshina or Narumi so grab your Tinker Bells and get ready, cuz' here we go! ✨
-•-
You and Iharu had been dating for a while now, and while he hasn't changed a bit, you find him cuter every day.
He's not so much the scary punk that most people see as their first impression of him, if anything, he's so much of a sweetheart that you could be sick.
"Are you thirsty?" Iharu asks as he hands his water bottle out to you.
He knows yours is empty, as he watched you drain about half of it after the first portion of your training session earlier that day.
"Oh, yeah. Thanks, Iharu." You gave him a smile, which caused a smile of his own to form as well.
"No problem! Here, I'll go fill yours up. We can just share one if that goes empty." He pointed to the bottle in your hand before he reached past you to grab yours.
As he stood to leave, he placed a chaste kiss to your forehead despite it being covered in sweat before he bounded off to refill your bottle. Before he reached the door, he turned and called to you, "I'll be right back!"
You couldn't help but smile as you watched him leave, and only after he left did you take a swig from his bottle.
~
After training, you went your separate ways to shower and change into something more comfortable for your scheduled study session with Iharu.
He offered to take you to one of the libraries to study on new kaiju forms and anatomy.
He failed to mention though, that he'd also be bringing your favorite drink and snacks, as well as a jacket of his for you to wrap up in, as the study gets cold at night.
As the two of you sat hunched over a stack of books and a shared laptop, he had his arm around you as he pointed out anything important.
"It's not too cold in here, is it? I can run and get you a blanket if you want." His yellow eyes looked into yours while his arms snaked around your shoulders as if to provide extra warmth.
"No, you and your jacket are keeping me plenty warm."
He smiled wide at you and pulled you in to rest his head on your shoulder, not paying much mind anymore to the screen the two of you shared.
~
"Sweetheart, it's time to wake up." Iharu was hunched over your bed, the others in your shared dorm already gone to get ready for the day.
His hand rubbed lightly along your covered bicep and his face was the first thing you woke to; a soft smile graced his lips while the morning sun that drafted through the blinds blessed his messy bedhead and tanned skin like a halo.
"I brought you some medicine if you still aren't feeling good."
You blessed him with a sleepy smile of your own and a gentle caress to his cheek, which he happily leaned into, smiling wider at your touch.
~
Now, you had a lucky day off. Renovations were being made on the base, and the cadets were all given a day off.
You had been invited to Iharu's place for the day, not that it was anything impressive. A simple one-bedroom apartment that felt lived in, but clean, nonetheless.
You had been lounging on the couch with him, leaning on the arm of the couch with him laying on you, his arms wrapped around your waist while his head used your chest as a pillow. All the while a movie softly played in the background.
You felt him shift and looked down to see him looking up at you now, his chin resting comfortably on your chest with half-lidded eyes and a peaceful smile.
You returned his gaze with a soft smile of your own, and you moved a hand to rest upon his unstyled hair.
"Baby..." His words came out in a slow drawl, his voice reverberated through his body like a song. "You know I love you so much."
You only smiled wider at his words. With a soft tone, you responded, "I know. I love you too."
His eyes softened more, and he repositioned himself to straddle your lap, all so he could cup your face in his hands and stare into your eyes. "You really mean so much to me, y'know? You're everything I coulda' wanted and more."
You moved your hands now to wrap around his waist. "I could say the same to you, Iharu."
He let a sigh escape his nose and he leaned forward to touch his forehead to yours, his eyes never once looking away from you. "You drive me crazy, in the best possible way."
Without another word, Iharu closed the distance between your lips and interlocked yours with his. An innocent passion, between two lovers who were meant to meet. A very simple expression, yet so complex. Like the waters of an ocean meeting the sands of the beach on both ends of the world, allowing them to connect again and again.
His lips moved with yours, and yours with his, for a moment longer before you had to breach for air. A mere pause in the flow of what was to truly come.
His gaze once again fell upon you. You, and only you.
He pressed his forehead to yours again and made a promise for the both of you, " I want to stay like this forever, just us. I won't let anything take my baby from me."
My fluffiest Serennedy headcannon I can't stop thinking about is that Leon is a little touch-avoidant until it comes to his relationship with Luis:
Like, his whole job is surviving situations in which you cannot let the people-shaped monsters touch you under any circumstances. And when he does have any physical contact with other humans it's typically in the shape of a closed fist or a hand around his throat, so eventually he got to where people touching him just feels... unsafe. It feels like static against his skin, and while he knows other people find it comforting and will use it from time to time (i.e. holding Ashley's hand during the plaga-removal) he's just not too keen on it himself.
He noticed back in Spain that for some reason, Luis touching him didn't feel uncomfortable, but it wasn't until they got back to the US and their relationship started to develop that he realized he kind of liked being touched by Luis. When they watched a movie on the couch he would start out on the opposite end but Luis would scoot over to him, and the area where their thighs met didn't feel staticky or weird, it felt like little glowing embers that radiated from that spot and spread an odd warmth through his whole body.
After they had been together for a while it became essential to get physical touch from Luis as often as possible. When Luis get's home from work to find Leon on the couch, he folds himself into Leon's arms and he can just feel the tension bleeding out of Leon's muscles one by one. When Leon gets in from a mission late and Luis is already asleep he tries his hardest not to wake him up, but he can't stop himself from seeking out the warmth of his skin. It grounds him and heals whatever he went through. He buries his face in Luis's neck and inhales so deep, just trying to breathe him in and keep the memory of his touch locked into his brain.
Alex and Michael are on their third weekend of house shopping. Approximately 36 houses deep in the search. Their wishlist isn’t overly long – two bedrooms, a garage, and a backyard shed for Michael’s workshop. And while their budget is limited, they’ve seen at least six houses so far that have ticked all their boxes.
But Alex has said no to all of them. And he’s about to say no again.
‘What’s wrong with this one?’ Michael sighs and gives their realtor an apologetic look. She disappears into some back corner of the house to avoid another one of these arguments.
‘There’s no shed, for one. And I think there must be foundation issues because the floor feels uneven. Don’t you feel a little lopsided?’ Michael shakes his head slowly. Alex rolls his eyes. ‘Well, the front door is too narrow. So, no.’
Michael groans. ‘The front door is too narrow? Alex, I love you. I love you so much. But right now, I want to float you to the moon.’
They lean against opposite walls in the tight hallway facing either other. Alex groans in frustration. Michael tilts his head, concerned.
‘Why don’t you just admit that you want to stay in your own house?’ Michael smiles at him softly.
Alex pushes off the wall and starts pacing. ‘Because it’s my house – not our house. And I want it to be our house.’
Michael reaches out and grabs his hand to stop his frantic pacing. ‘Come here.’ Alex complies, wrapping his arms around Michael’s waist. ‘You haven’t given me the chance to make your house our house. You jumped straight to moving as soon as we agreed to live together.’
‘I want you to have a workshop. Something that’s not a bomb shelter buried in the ground with no windows.’ He’s pouting and Michael desperately wants to suck on his bottom lip until it’s bloodred and swollen.
‘Baby, I can build a workshop in your – our – backyard. There’s plenty of room and that way I get whatever I want, exactly how I want it.’ He presses his lips to the sweet spot between Alex’s eyebrows. ‘And for the record, I love your house. There’s the perfecting working triangle in the kitchen, the beautiful French doors leading into our bedroom, and the best fucking patio in Roswell. Plus, it’s got you – in every nook and cranny. The smell of your shampoo, your incredible dedication to cleanliness, guitars in every corner, and each room already finished to meet your specific accessibility requirements. I love it all. I love you. I don’t need anything else.’
Alex smirks. ‘It is a step up from a plywood bunk bed.’
‘Hey, now. That bed has treated us pretty good over the years as I recall. Taken everything we’ve given it and then some.’ Michael chuckles. ‘And that’s really saying something.’
‘Ah, yes. A bruise with every orgasm.’ It’s a joke and yet, not a joke. Alex takes one last look around the current house. It’s twice the size and an ideal option. ‘Are you sure? This place is pretty great, too.’
Michael spins Alex around until he’s caged in against the wall behind them. ‘Nah, this place sucks. Front door is too narrow.’ He grins and nudges their noses together. ‘And anyway, I look forward to taking over your kitchen, destroying all that military orderliness, and adding even more guitars to every corner.’
Their lips hover closer – just a whisper separating them. ‘Don’t forget how you’ll drown me out with the way you smell of rain.’
Michael kisses Alex then. Slow and love-drunk.
Neither hears their realtor return until she claps her hands and laughs. ‘I guess we’ve finally made a decision then! I knew this house would be the one.’
They pull away from each other but hang on with their hands. ‘I think we’re going to pass, Susan. Stay where we are. But we appreciate all your hard work.’ Michael gives her a winning smile and then tugs Alex out into the sunlight. Ready to head home.
Susan takes out her phone and makes a note in her contacts to never ever work with these two clowns. Sometimes the commission is just not worth the hassle.
And that’s fine. Because Alex and Michael never need a realtor again.
And here we go to the chapter 2. ~
Be prepared for some disgustingly romantic and awkward fluff, seasoned with a pinch of angst and conflicted emotions.
Perhaps the first time ever in his life Paul had really prayed that he would have woken up being sick, but of course, always when you really wished for something to happen, it never came true. Instead, he was now standing in the spotlights with his fellow guitarist, waiting anxiously what was going to happen.
It was difficult to remember the last time when being this nervous on stage. The odd - but still, at least a bit - intriguing feeling had been inside Paul since yesterday’s meeting; he could feel it both in his stomach and in his head. He cursed himself why there always had to be this nasty headache forming when being under a stress - the only thing he could do now was trying to ignore it. There was nothing to worry about - even the so-called audience consisted of only their bandmembers and some random people from the tour staff. Still, Paul felt like being in a cheesy episode of Germany’s got Talent; their superpower, apparently, being able to kiss each other. Very useful skill indeed.
“Okay, so what are we going to do now?” Paul asked, not only from his future kissing partner but from all the inquisitive people gathered together in the room.
“Just improvise,” Till answered and smirked. Paul rolled his eyes in secret. You and your eternal improvising…
“And do we have to…do our thing in the middle of the song, or in the end, or what?”
“As I said: improvise.”
Paul was annoyed by not getting any instructions. It wasn’t his idea in the first place, so why he had to be in charge of everything all of a sudden.
“So, we just play something and…kiss at some point?”
Till nodded. Even though he was excellent at hiding his excitement outside, he couldn’t wait to see their two lovebirds in action.
One member from the tour staff came to the stage and started to play their songs randomly from the record so they could choose which one they wanted.
First was Ohne dich. Just when the song started, Richard snorted: “Way too romantic. We’re not in Titanic.”
Next was Sehnsucht. “Way too loud, a banger doesn’t suit for the sweet moment.”
Then, Zeig dich. “C’mon, sounds like we are gays in a church.”
It didn’t surprise Paul at all that nothing suited for his fellow guitarist today. After all, he was a diva, accompanied by perfectionism. “Meine Güte, does it really matter in the end? Let’s just do it and we can move to more important things.”
“I want the moment to be perfect,” Richard answered. “Besides, what could be more important than this?”
We’ve been talking about this lovely trait of yours earlier, verdammt. “The next song will be it and we’ll just improvise,” Paul decided, ignoring Richard’s last sentence.
The next song was Ausländer. Finally, to Paul’s relief, his fellow guitarist seemed to stop his eternal complaining, so they could finally start rehearsing. They acted like they were really playing in a concert even though the song was coming from a record.
The catchy chant went on and Paul was so nervous that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He was just trying to force a smile on his face and playing some completely random chords which weren’t even from the song. Luckily, Richard - who was more talented at hiding his worry - had more courage and during the final harmonies, he was approaching Paul, looking determined.
When Richard was standing only inches away from the other guitarist, the only thing they could do was to stare at each other in amazement. Neither of them had a clue how they were supposed to proceed, and the first attempt ended up failing because they cracked up completely - it was their way to disentangle the huge stress.
“Okay, doesn’t matter, let’s try again. We still have plenty of time,” Till shouted from the audience, gesturing them to carry on.
The second, the third and the fourth attempt failed as well and it seemed like it was only getting worse - they weren’t being serious anymore. Paul thought for a second that maybe they’ll just give up on the idea and he’ll get out of this misery. Gott sei Dank.
The audience was getting restless as well. “C’mon, it can’t be that hard, show us your best!” Schneider yelled.
As his last straw, a random idea popped up into Paul’s mind - he didn’t want their childish giggling to continue forever, so he had to act somehow. “Okay, okay, let’s try one more time and if this fails, we’ll give up.”
The song went on and the same things happened as earlier. The audience was literally holding their breath - will they succeed this time or is it a lost cause?
The end of the song eventually came, and Richard approached Paul the fifth time, his mind completely numb. Like his friend, Richard was frustrated as well. It was supposed to be only one little smooch, so why it suddenly was so goddamn difficult.
They stared at each other once again like they were two different species from different planets. Richard was sure that this would end up failing as well. Maybe Paul was right - maybe they should come up with another idea when this didn’t seem to work as they wanted.
But unexpectedly, Paul smirked slyly and raised his eyebrows, his eyes still fixed on Richard’s.
Till stood up in the audience and applauded. “Wunderbar, that’s perfect! Just like two gay roosters, having their obscure mating dance. Carry on!”
The gesture sparked something inside Richard - it was like a silent invitation, to let him in after so many unsuccessful attempts. Unconsciously, he licked his lips and inhaled - he was finally ready for this. Even though Paul’s gesture looked goofy outside, Richard took it dead seriously. Throwing all the earlier hesitation away, he grabbed Paul from his nape and dragged him towards his lips. If this is what you want, I’m more than happy to give it to you then.
The audience was immediately on fire when they saw what was happening. The room was filled by roaring whistles and exclamations, but right now, the two men, too busy with each other, didn’t really follow anything that was going on. The surroundings were revolving around as rapidly as their heartbeats - Paul was completely sure that his heart was going to burst out from his chest. As their romantic moment seemed to last forever - while in reality, it was over after a couple of seconds - Paul could feel the throb in his head getting heavier and heavier. He was trembling from head to toe and his body temperature was changing from sweating to shivering from cold. It almost felt like he got a fever suddenly.
They finally parted with a loud smack - it literally sounded like it was echoing there - and neither of them didn’t dare to look at each other. Paul backed up, trying to look busy while putting his guitar back to the stand. In his ears, he heard a disturbing mixture of the rapid heartbeat and a high-pitched noise. The taste of the kissing was still on his lips and the intoxicating scent of the other man was hovering around. Paul felt like he was being high - and not on drugs, on Richard. He heard later from his bandmates that they were seriously thinking he had been inebriated because he was acting so weird.
Paul noticed that someone was asking something from him - was it Richard speaking? It was difficult to comprehend anything anymore.
“I’m not feeling…very…well…” was the only thing he managed to mumble before everything went first clouded and then completely black.
-
The atmosphere back in the meeting room was more hectic than in their usual gatherings. Paul was sitting on the uncomfortable couch, watching everybody fussing around even though there was nothing to worry about anymore – especially not about him. He was completely ashamed because of the incident he had caused. The other guys hadn’t even let him walk from the rehearsal on his own - instead, they had carried him, and it had reminded Paul of a grotesque funeral procession. He had tried his best to assure that everything was completely fine, but no one listened to him. What had happened was that the stress had been released by the most embarrassing way possible: by having a blackout in front of everyone, after his bandmate had kissed him. Paul couldn’t still believe it, even though Richard had explained everything subsequently. Luckily, this hadn’t been a real show at least.
Richard had handed Paul a blanket - it was useless when it wasn’t actually cold at all in the room. Still, Paul had to admit that it was a sweet gesture. His friend was constantly asking was everything okay and did Paul need anything - he was acting like a chicken mom which would have been actually amusing if the situation wouldn’t have been so awkward in general.
While pondering Paul noticed that Richard was approaching him with a steaming mug in his hand. “How are you feeling?” he asked the thousandth time, handing the hot chocolate for his friend. Paul was secretly flattered - he had probably ages ago told his friend that hot chocolate was his favorite drink, and still, Richard remembered it.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Paul stared at the mug and gave a dry laugh. “I just can’t believe that this actually happened, you even had to carry me…” He shook his head and whispered: “How embarrassing, I can only wonder, what the audience must be thinking now.”
Opposite to his usual banter, Richard looked surprisingly thoughtful when he said: “Well, things tend to happen, and we can’t help but deal with them later.” Then he, out of the blue, took his friend’s hand and continued: “But, promise me, if anything I’m doing or saying makes you distressed, you’ll tell me straight away, right?”
Paul gulped when the sudden proximity made him uneasy. “Yes…o-of course.”
There was a brief, awkward moment between them while Richard was just staring at Paul’s hand, drawing circles on it gently at the same time. Neither of them didn’t exactly know what to say even though it was visible that something was going on between them.
Paul was already thinking to escape to the toilet or hide somewhere else before things would escalate once again when Till saved the situation by shouting from the door: “Reesh, can you come here?”
“Like, now?”
“Yes, right now, it’s an urgency.”
Richard turned to Paul. “Entschuldigung, I’ll talk to you later. Don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything, ok?”
When his friend stood up and walked towards the door, Paul tried his best not to look at the gorgeous buttocks, covered by a bit too tight pants - it was an eternal question what the point of having so many belts was. Paul was secretly relieved - now he could have his own time, at least for a while. There was an enormous rollercoaster of emotions in his head and right now, even though how much he was being fond of his friend, he couldn’t stand his adorable, worried eyes. And most importantly, he didn’t want to have any risk of fainting again which was still highly probable.
Half-asleep in the car - Richard had insisted to give him a ride back home because he still wasn’t convinced by his fellow guitarist’s reassurances - Paul was listening to Richard’s voice, mixed with Jim Morrison’s singing from the car stereos.
-
“The time to hesitate is through
No time to wallow in the mire
Try now we can only lose
And our love become a funeral pyre…”
The sweet voice, mixed with the rhythmic tapping against the wheel, sounded like a choir of angels to Paul’s tired ears. It reminded him of one incident not very long ago, when they had happened to be in the same dressing room, and he had busted his friend singing in the shower.
“I don’t wanna close my eyes, I don’t wanna fall asleep, ‘cause I miss you, baby…” Richard was still singing aloud when he opened the door.
Surprisingly, Paul was sitting on the bench in the dressing room even though Richard thought he’d been alone the whole time. He froze to his place, only a small towel covering the most strategic places. “H-how long have you been here?” He sounded horrified.
“For a while, perhaps.”
“You should have at least said something!”
“Relax, it was lovely to listen to you singing Aerosmith in the shower.”
Paul smiled when he looked back at the incident. Richard had been pouting for two days and didn’t want to talk anything about it afterward. Paul couldn’t get why his friend had been so concerned about his voice even though he had even been a singer for a band. In his opinion, Richard’s voice was lovely, and he would have wanted to listen to it even more.
Right now, it seemed like Richard had forgotten his vow of though - he was singing his heart out. Eyes closed, Paul concentrated on listening to the sweet tones.
The next thing he noticed was a gentle poke on his shoulder.
“Zeit aufzuwachen, we are here now.”
“…mhh?” It seemed eventually, he had fallen asleep. Paul rubbed his drowsy eyes in confusion.
“So, how do you feel now? Any better after a nap?” his friend asked.
“Yeah, Alles ist gut, no worries.”
There was a brief silent moment when Paul tried his best to wake up. Richard looked outside, avoiding his friend’s eyes. “I was so worried about you, I thought that…something serious happened or I caused you more distress or something…please don’t do that ever again,” he whispered.
“It’s not because of you, I’m just…a bit tired and tense, that’s all. Also, I’ve had a terrible headache the whole day so that might be one of the reasons for the…thing.” It was still embarrassing to admit that he had fainted.
Richard wasn’t convinced of the vague explanations - of course, they all had been tired and tense for a long time, but it had never ended up anyone having a complete blackout before. He was sure that there was something his friend was hiding from him, but maybe now it wasn’t the right time to try figuring it out. The man needed his rest.
“Promise me that you’ll call me or anyone of us if you don’t feel well during the night, ok?”
Seems like the chicken mom mode is starting again. “Yeah, yeah, of course. I think all I need now is a good night’s sleep,” Paul said, a bit annoyance in his voice.
He didn’t make a move to leave from the car even though it was past midnight already. Instead, they both sat still, avoiding looking at each other. The strained atmosphere was like from a disgustingly romantic teenage movie, in which the boy is escorting his crush back home and neither of them doesn’t know how to farewell each other. It was like they both wanted to release the feelings inside them, to open up to each other, but neither of them had the courage to take the first step.
Paul couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “Maybe I should really go now, it’s pretty late already.”
Before he managed to escape, Richard grabbed his hand. “Gute Nacht und schlaf schön. I’ll see you tomorrow. And I assure you that if you are not ready at 8 am, I’ll drag you out of your bed.”
“You’re impossible…” Paul shook his head and released his hand from the tight grip.
The other man tilted his head and grinned. “But you have to admit that you still couldn’t live without me even though I’m impossible, right?”
“Gute Nacht, Reesh,” Paul said quickly. That goddamn grin with the tilted head was his weak spot. It seemed like Richard knew very well that he had the skill to melt Paul’s heart every single time with that gesture.
While walking towards his house Paul turned and saw Richard still stalking him from the car. He almost lifted the doorknob to hide inside but changed his mind - actually, a bit of fresh air was welcoming in this situation, because too much stuff was swirling around his head still. He waved his friend the one last goodbye before sneaking to the backyard where he could finally be in his own peace.
Paul sat down on the tiny terrace and lighted up a cigarette. It was the end of the spring and the night was mild with hints of the upcoming summer in the air. He looked at the sky - it was a shame that because of the heavy light pollution of the enormous city, it was impossible to see any stars. Paul had always loved to sink into his own thoughts while staring at the distant space, though now, he had to be content with listening to occasional car honks and other noises of the busy urban life.
The day, which had already been strange from the start, had ended up being even stranger than he could have ever imagined. Everything was so surreal when Paul tried to recall it, just like a very bizarre dream. When he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on sucking in the sour taste of the roll between his fingers, the only thing he could see was a disturbingly vivid image of Richard, licking his lips, looking so focused when he was about to kiss him.
Kiss.
Paul didn’t know what to think of that word. Yes, of course, he knew it usually involved something amorous, but what about when you were talking about kissing a friend - should it still be considered romantic? Had their friendship ever been a typical one? Paul could only wonder Richard’s opinion about the kissing - his friend’s serious face was haunting in his mind more and more when he thought about it. What was even more disturbing was the fact that when they had kissed Paul had expected it to be just a gentle, light touch - instead, it had been a bit too passionate for being just an act. To be honest, Paul had been more than happy to answer his friend’s smooch. It felt like a long-time yearning had finally gotten some positive response. Had it been just a cocky performance or perhaps something more? For that pondering, Paul didn’t have the energy now. His headache was insidiously coming back even though a nap and fresh air had eased it a bit.
It felt like two sides were arguing in his head.
It was just an irrelevant act with no hidden meanings. You’re tired, overdramatic and lonely because of the divorce. It will eventually fade when the tour starts and both of you are too busy to think about these complicated feelings. Stop acting like a teenager.
He had excused all these mixed emotions with his divorce from a long-term relationship. It wasn’t even a year yet, so the recovery process was still going on. Maybe his solitary mind was just seeking for attention from basically anyone - even from a long-time friend.
You’re lying to yourself. You know very well what this all is about, you just don’t want to accept it and it’s eating you inside.
That was the voice Paul had been trying to avoid, pushing it into the darkest corner of his unconscious mind. Apparently, today’s weird incidents had revealed it uncontrollably - it was like a Pandora’s box was suddenly opened inside his head. Like a volcano, all the feelings were erupting at once and it was impossible to stop it anymore.
Paul was clenching his hands into fists, trying to blink back the unpleasant pressure of upcoming tears at the same time.
You know very well the feeling which has been growing stronger day by day when you have gotten closer to each other. You can’t ignore the way he looks at you with adoration or the way he laughs at your dry jokes a bit too loud. You have certainly noticed how you hug or stare at each other a bit too long, and deep down in your heart, you know the answer, why. You just don’t want to say it out loud - you’re afraid you’ll be hurt again. Even seeing him smiling and talking with a pretty woman gives you a nasty twitch of jealousy.
C’mon, me, jealous of him? He’s the most childish, the most arrogant and the most annoying person I know. Just shut the fuck up already and leave me alone. It’s nothing like that, we’ve known each other for decades for Christ’s sake - why would I suddenly have some deeper feelings for him? We are like brothers and it should stay like that. End of discussion.
But his mind was not going to let him walk away from this so easily.
Even though you try to claim that he annoys you, you think at the same time that he’s the sweetest, the most genuine and the most adorable person walking on this earth. You cannot resist him, but still, you think it’s easier to isolate yourself, act like everything is as it has always been, but it’s not. Everything’s changed.
Just admit it.
Paul felt like he was getting almost schizophrenic with the conflicting voices inside his head. He stood up, now wiping tears from his eyes. Why had he gotten so emotional suddenly? Maybe it was better to go to sleep.
Annoyed with himself and at everything right now, he walked towards the back door, when suddenly that something, which he was so afraid of, came to his mind like a thunderbolt.
You are in love with him.
You’re so madly in love with Richard Z. Kruspe that every cell of your body is screaming his name.
And you can’t do anything about it - just admit it.
Trembling and crying, Paul sat back down, now speaking out loud: “No way…it’s… it can’t be…” From all the moments of his life, why it had to happen right now, when they were about to start their biggest tour, their biggest challenge. And why in the bloody hell, from all of the human beings walking on this earth, his complex brain chose to fell in love with Richard, his old friend, and a colleague. It didn’t make any sense.
Or it made a perfect sense.
It hadn’t happened suddenly - the creeping feeling had been there, perhaps from that particular day from the early 90’s, when they had met each other for the first time in that fateful band practice in Schneider’s parents’ basement. All those bizarre, uneasy feelings afterward, forming for years. All those disturbing, even slightly erotic dreams he’d been trying to reject - it all made sense now.
Paul Landers was madly in love and he couldn’t help it. How cathartic it was to admit it, yet so inexplicably terrifying.
“Fuck…holy shit...” he mumbled various swearwords and buried his face in his hands, sobbing louder and louder. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
It was no use to hide anything anymore, so he was crying visibly out loud in the middle of the night in his backyard. He didn’t even bother to worry about what somebody might think of finding him in a state like this. Thank God, he was alone, and all the neighbors were fast asleep already.
Anger, frustration, embarrassment, and yearning to be loved - those all came out at once in the most intense way possible. Paul was walking restlessly around the tiny backyard, kicking the grass and stones on the ground at the same time. He didn’t care at all how silly it must have looked. All he could think of was that he wanted to get this inner tangle - which had been restricting him for way too long - out, in any way possible.
“I don’t understand anything about this, for fuck’s sake!” he screamed to the void.
After a good amount of shrieking, hitting various innocent objects and almost throwing a rock to his window, the hyperventilate-crying slowly turned into sniveling, making it finally possible to breathe. Paul was still shocked, but the heated outburst seemed like it had eventually eased the distress - his emotionally filled brain was finally slowly ready to give some space to rational thinking.
He tried his best to think long and hard how to proceed with this. It was inevitable now: even though what the answer might be, he had to tell Richard everything. But when and how? Should he write a letter and hand it to him in secret? Way too cheesy and childish. He wanted to tell it more personally - he didn’t want to be a coward, even how shameful this all was.
Suddenly, a frightening thought came to Paul’s mind: what if he’d do it straight away? It had to be done at some point, so why not now. Besides, Richard had told him that he could call in an emergency, so this could be considered as one.
Still trembling from head to toe, Paul took his phone in his hand. There wasn’t going to be a perfect moment anyways and he had already embarrassed himself totally today, so what the heck - there was nothing to lose anymore. If Richard was going to hate him for the rest of his life because of this, then let it be like that then. It didn’t matter anymore.
He dialed the familiar number, his thumb ready for pressing the call button.
He inhaled. Ok, I have no idea what I’m going to say, but shit, let’s do this, 1,2,3…
Just when Paul was about to hit the button, he started to hesitate. Something’s not right.
He put the phone to the ground and blinked his eyes like it would have helped him to comprehend what he was just about to do. Rational thinking was making more and more way to the earlier emotional rant, making it possible to consider his actions. Maybe this wasn’t a very suitable moment after all - they had lots of work to do tomorrow. But would there ever be a perfectly suitable moment? He had no clue about it, but at least he didn’t want any more drama now.
Paul sighed and put the phone back to his pocket finally. Maybe he should still wait a bit. He was way too emotional tonight and he would regret the consequences tomorrow if he would listen to his treacherous intuition over his reasonable thinking.
When calmed down enough, Paul finally stepped into the house. Tomorrow was going to be a long day again and he didn’t want it to be ruined completely because of this…whatever you could call it. His band was way more important than his foolish feelings - there was going to be a time and a place for them later. The day had been exhausting enough already.
Jim Morrison’s words were still echoing in his head while laying in his bed: “The time to hesitate is through, no time to wallow in the mire. Try now we can only lose, and our love become a funeral pyre…”
Whatever might happen, it was in destiny’s hands now. At least Paul hoped their love wouldn’t end up becoming a funeral pyre.
Prompt: Christmas kiss (taken from this list)
OC: Ryouji
OC Creator: @theintellectualweeb
Ship: Ryouji/Madara
---
“This is illegal.”
Ryouji chuckled at Madara’s sleepy grumbles, tugging him along behind with their fingers linked, taking care to not let the poor man stumble into any walls. “Waking you up early isn’t illegal, Dara dear.”
“Is so. S’cruel and unusual.”
He could hardly make the words out from underneath all that bed hair and ill will. Still, Ryouji just tugged him along further, until they were standing below the archway that lead from the living room into the kitchen. “I’ll let you go back to bed in just a few minutes, I promise.”
Even soothing his hands down the man’s arms in the way he knew Madara loved didn’t save him from the grumpy glares. A peek passed him told Ryouji it was just about time - 11:58 - and just the thought put a soft smile on his lips, one hand brushing the hair out of his fiance’s face.
Almost time. The back porch light wasn’t on but he could still see the snow piled up against the glass sliding door, the lights from their tree still on and shinning in brilliant color that reflected on it all, though in Ryouji’s self-admittedly cheesy thoughts that beauty was nothing in comparison to the one standing before him. He pulled Madara in close to his chest, letting him nose there for the last minute, then tilted his head up by his chin when the clock hit a minute before.
“Happy birthday, Dara.” The mumbled complaint that Ryouji had already wished him one died off when he brushed their lips together. The kiss was soft and slow, nothing about it overly passionate or heated, but it was one he hoped Madara would remember. It held all of his heart, all of the memories they’d built together over the last year: their four year anniversary, the day he proposed, dancing at Ryouya’s wedding, the two months Madara had been determined to learn how to bake (Ryouji was honestly grateful he gave that up, he could only eat so many burnt cakes), the smaller moments that he’d treasure for the rest of his life. All things he hoped never to forget, and hoped Madara would keep in his heart as well, in case he ever doubted what he meant to him.
When he pulled back, just enough to brush the tip of their noses together, the clock read midnight. He held Madara tight, watching those beautiful eyes flutter open, giving him a light squeeze to greet the new day.
“Merry Christmas, love.”
“You didn’t wake me up for this.”
He snorted and didn’t answer, choosing instead to press soft kisses to the other’s forehead. At least he knew Madara really had no room to talk - and that, if the color on his cheeks was anything to go by, he honestly didn’t mind much at all.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
He whimpered a little as he kept swinging, sniffing again and rubbing at his face. They said they were gonna have a nice new house and he was gonna have a big room but he liked his home. He liked it so much and moving was so scary. He felt his little chest go tight with panic. His moms could forget him, right? What if they didn’t think to take him along and he got lost and then he couldn’t find them and...
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Rating: Teen and up audience.
Summary:
(Harry leans towards him undoubtedly getting ready for another question —
“ So are you single?”
Draco would have slipped to the floor if he wasn’t already sitting down, because nothing in Harry’s expression conveyed the he was joking. Draco had naturally assumed that— well he wasn’t certain what he’d assumed but it wasn’t this.
“Harry wha—”)
Or
Harry gets injured and forgets he's married, shameless flirting, and fluff ensues.
Sure can! I’m keeping this one short and sweet, because I think we all could use a few hundred words of fluff to get through next week.
Malec: 64: “You’re so beautiful.” + 92: “Are you drunk?”
Magnus woke up to a giggling Alec hopping onto bed. Sometimes Alec would arrive in the middle of the night, especially when he was running rounds. Those were rarer now that he was the Head of the Institute, but Alec still loved to get out of the office from time to time.
Although Magnus remembered something about a celebration. It had to do with… Jace? Some shadowhunter thing, Magnus figured.
He didn’t have much time to think before next thing Magnus knew, Alec was on top of him. “Hi,” he said with a lazy grin. “I missed you.”
“That’s sweet, darling,” Magnus said, fingers running through Alec’s hair. He wasn’t as sweaty as he would be if he had been working. “Where were you?”
“Institute,” Alec answered mindlessly. His eyes traveled through Magnus’ face and Alec frowned. “You’re so beautiful.”
Magnus blinked and he couldn’t help the smile that took his lips. Something on Alec’s voice sounded almost offended. “Should I apologize?”
“No!” Alec practically screamed. “Never. You’re perfect. Your face. The rest too. I missed you.”
A chuckle played at Magnus’ throat, but he suppressed it. “Alexander, I’m going to ask you something and I want you to answer me with the truth, okay?” He waited for Alec to nod a couple of times. “Are you drunk?”
Alec beamed. “Yes!”
This time Magnus let the chuckle out. “You sound proud of that.”
“I drank scotch,” Alec sang, leaning his chin on Magnus’ shoulder. “Tasted like wood, even though I’ve never tried wood. It was really old too. But not as much as you. So I guess it wasn’t really old at all.” Alec closed his eyes. “Time is relative.”
“It is.” Magnus hugged his boyfriend, feeling his weight on top of him. He had missed Alec too. “How about we go to sleep, darling?”
“We could do that,” Alec said, nodding. He opened his eyes and looked at Magnus, smirking. “Or we could- you know.”
Magnus arched an eyebrow at him. “Or we could sleep.”
“It’s so hard to win an argument against you,” Alec whined and rolled to lay on Magnus’ side. “Today was the anniversary of the day Jace and I met.”
With a movement of his hand, Magnus used his magic to change Alec’s clothes to the shorts he wears to sleep. “So you guys went out for drinks?”
“We drank in my office. Izzy and Clary too. I wish you were there.”
“I’m here now,” Magnus said as he ran his hand up and down Alec’s arm.
Alec nodded and smiled again, sleep taking over him. “Good.”
