in which choso, your impassive neighbour from downstairs, started to get involved in your life in a way that felt invasive (x f!reader) (part 3) poll winner: confront him over the attempted break-in
tw: yandere choso; his behaviour in this can be seen as problematic and hounding, he has issues with respecting our unspoken boundaries and he acts creepy during this chapter.
< previous part • start from the beginning
You stared at the space up ahead of you, the unmistakable sound of someone heavily breathing still echoing in your head. The earlier suspicion of Choso possibly being behind the unit gave you pause, because you did not wish for that to be the case, since if he was, then one of the two things had to be true:
That either he had been snooping around and was the one responsible for the mess you had come back home to, or he had seen exactly what happened, which meant he knew something you didn’t.
For whatever reason, however, neither explanation seemed to sit right with you. Somehow, you could not trust him to be the good guy in this situation when you had already felt so much wrong with him before.
You drew in a steadying breath, considering your options. Calling the police might be useless, because if whoever was still lurking around the corner was the aggressor, then you risked provocation. Then again, taking matters into your own hands felt just as bleak. You risked the person around the corner being volatile, but even so, perhaps from the adrenaline, your curiosity won out once more. It was better to confront what was just steps away from you than to wait for the problem to go away—knowing that it likely would not.
Slowly, you rounded the corner with your key held tight in between your knuckles—just in case—as you shakily popped your head around. Before you, there was nobody, but when you flicked your eyes down, your gaze settled over two white-knuckled hands curling over the ledge.
“Ch-Choso…?” you called out, your voice uncertain. It was a gamble.
You heard a breath of relief follow. “Oh, thank goodness, it’s you. Can you help me up?”
You scrambled for a moment before the words caught up to you. Adrenaline was definitely making you act erratically. You wanted to leave him dangling as you called the police, but the way he sounded thankful just then gave you pause.
“Of course,” you said. “I can try. I-I mean, I will try.”
You reached for him carefully, lowering yourself to your knees. Your hands found his own as they were straining against the rooftop, connecting, inviting him to hold desperately against you. His touch was warm, almost alarmingly so, forcing a deep breath of air to gulp down your throat. Despite the unease you felt, however, you threw your weight into the effort, even if it was obvious that your help did very little, and that it was he who put in the bulk of the work in getting himself back on solid ground.
“Are you okay?” you asked, taking a step back as soon as you were able to, unsure as to why you were still being so polite.
Choso collapsed onto his hands and knees, his palms biting into the rough surface of the roof. He forced himself to his feet a moment later, lowering his gaze towards you. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he panted, trying to catch his breath. “Better, now that you’re here.”
In a way, that response should have sounded reassuring because he was associating you as a friendly face when he needed help, but the feeling you had before still ate away at you. You took an uncertain step back once more, if anything, just to create a safe amount of distance between you both.
“I should probably call the police,” you suggested.
Choso took a step forward, eating up the space you tried to enforce. “No, that’s okay.”
His hand then extended towards you, perhaps as a gesture of reassurance, but you stumbled back a step before he could even reach you. Just as you nearly tripped over your own two feet, his eyes narrowed for a brief moment before he forced a neutral expression.
“Is something wrong?” he asked you.
You swallowed at the question, and for a moment, you couldn’t say much at all. Maybe it was Shoko’s voice replaying in your head, putting labels on things that you did not want to acknowledge. The part where he was acting like a stalker was something that crossed your mind maybe a dozen times since you had that one initial interaction with him. The way he treated you when you were drunk, the way your phone blew up when you didn’t come home, and now… this. It all felt so intentional and targeted.
“No reason,” you replied, turning the key over and over in your hand.
You considered your next step. Running towards your apartment was no longer something so viable, because he could definitely intercept you. If you made it inside, then he could easily get inside without much effort, especially with the broken lock. The thought made your breath come out as unsteady and shallow.
Choso watched you for that moment, registering the panic you had barely kept contained, and then, just in that same maddeningly soft way he approached you from the first night, he turned gentle rather than imposing. He took your trembling hands into his and led you back to your unit, guiding you with every step. The act made your stomach pool with dread, because even now, he was making the decision for you.
What was worse was when he sat you down on your bed once more, kneeling over by the busted lock, fixing it without saying a word.
You could only stare at him, trying and failing to piece together what was happening.
When he approached you, though, you straightened up, and he, too, stopped just short of when you tried to create distance again. He looked slightly offended at your apprehension, but then he covered his feelings with a warm smile.
“Ah, right,” he said softly. “I know that this probably doesn’t make look very good,” he added, softening his appearance to make him look harmless. “What happened was… I was trying to chase after someone who I saw messing with your door, but they were more athletic than me, and got away. While I… got myself into a potentially bad situation, nearly falling. It’s a bit embarrassing.”
You gulped thickly. “You tried to… chase after… them?”
Choso nodded, relieved to hear that his lie landed. “Yeah, that’s right,” he said, his voice low. “I’m very glad you turned up, actually. If I had taken that fall, I might have broken my arm or something.”
You nodded along, wanting so hard to believe him, but whatever doubt you had leftover kept on clawing at the back of your mind, forcing a question to slip out of you before you could stop it.
“Are you sure that it wasn’t you who did all of this in the first place?” you blurted out, letting the question hang in the air before coughing out a choked gasp of realisation. Your hand clapped over your mouth to silence yourself further, but it was already far too late.
Something changed in his expression, then, revealing a crack in the careful mask he had been wearing. He let out a short breath that might have been a laugh, but it was closer to a light scoff. The way he was behaving did very little to comfort you, and what was worse, he did not make an immediate effort to deny you. Instead, his gaze only seemed to deepen, fixing you with a look of intense yearning. God, how he wanted you to be close to him—especially right now, when the opportunity was right in front of him—but he forced himself to behave for now, and even then, only somewhat.
“Well, if I did do all of that,” he started, his voice shifting into something conversational. “Then what are you going to do about it?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but only hot air came out at first.
Then, finally, a choked sound left a second after. “C-call the police?” you asked.
“Oh, yeah. You could, but do you think I would let you?” he replied. “I could stop you very easily.”
A dry swallow went down your throat, your eyes darting around the room as you searched for a weapon. Just the keys alone would be enough.
Choso, too, caught onto your observation, mentally logging it that you wouldn’t go down without a fight, forcing himself to mellow before he risked scaring you further. He wanted to keep you where he could see you for a bit longer, if he could help it.
“But that’s okay,” he added after, his tone changing from charged to something almost kind, “because that wasn’t me. I know how it looks and sounds,” he went on, forcing a light laugh, “but it wasn’t. Why would I break my own windows?”
Your breath caught as you momentarily remembered the sight downstairs.
“Oh, right…” you mumbled. “I guess that would be silly of you to do…”
“Yeah, it would be,” he replied, lowering himself right beside you, looking up over where you sat.
You drew yourself back as he spoke, pressing yourself harder against the wall. Even now, you could not shake off the look he had on his face a second ago when the mask slipped. Your hands held on tight around the key, the metal biting into your skin, enough to leave intended bruises from the mounting fear that you felt, but not enough to break your skin just yet.
You thought of something else: if you were to make a break for it with all that you had, then Shoko’s place was an easier route for you to follow than to even think about where the police station was. It was a silly thought, considering how dire this situation potentially was, but you couldn’t think clearly. Hell, even the campus library could have been a viable option, considering that you needed a card to blip yourself into the building at all. The security on-site would probably keep him out, too.
“I’m sorry for accusing you,” you said carefully, keeping your tone as steady as you could, inching towards the edge of your bed as you prepared to push yourself up. “I guess I just feel a bit… claustrophobic. I think I need some air—some space to think—so I’m just going to go and—”
The moment that you tried to leave, however, Choso tensed up, even if his panic was kept under wraps. As soon as you moved, his hand shot out and closed over your wrist, pulling you back with a force that made your breath catch. He stopped himself only after, but by then, he was already so close that his mouth brushed over your ear, his breath warm, his intention to keep you where you were clear.
“You’re going to leave?” he asked, his voice faintly laced with warning.
You swallowed hard, keeping your hand clenched around the key. “Just to get some fresh air,” you repeated, keeping the part where you would bolt as soon as you could a secret.
For a moment, he seemed unable to let go. His grip stayed tight around your wrist, unintentionally hurting you from the pressure. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he murmured, drawing you closer until you could feel the heat of him. “What if the person who wanted to hurt you is still out there, waiting?”
Your heart jumped at the proximity, and it was then that you were almost certain he was the danger he had been referencing. Everything in your gut told you to put distance between you both and fast—just one sharp movement—one punch of the keys in your hands against his ribs. Maybe you could elbow him. Maybe you could kick him where it hurts, because he was definitely crossing a line right now. Your hand twitched around the keys as you stood frozen, caught between fear and the need to get away.
How does this go?:
You manage to tear out of his grip and make it outside at least.
Choso doesn’t let you leave, forcing you to stay, listen, and hear him out.
A smutty, fluffy continuation of my jilytober fic 'The Storm' ( Rated T: Link Here) though it is not necessary to read them together. Also a portion of this is based off a @blvnk-art comic which I posted previously.
NSFW Warning! AO3 Here
“James…” Lily watches him from the bed, his shoulders tight, hands moving flustered as they search for some unknown item of clothing. Even from behind she can tell he is trying to regulate his breathing.
“James,” she repeats, taking a small pause, “I wasn’t planning on needing anything to sleep in.”
She feels her whole face flush.. If implications were heavy before, all nuance is now thrown out into the storm.
“If your mum or dad ask, we fell asleep working on the assignment,” Lily murmurs, a hand curling deep into his hair while the other brushes a thumb over his bottom lip.
“Right…assignment.” He pushes their bodies flush together and propels them backwards towards the open door to his room. His teeth nip at her thumb, sending her nervous system rampant.
“We can say I suggested we keep at it—you know, since I had to stay the night anyhow.” Her voice turns into a sigh as James skims his teeth against her cheek, grazing to her chin with an open mouth.
“Had to,” he teases, eyes fighting to stay open. His hands find where her shirt allows entrance to the skin underneath and he presses in.
“Plus,” she sighs at the feel of his rough hands on her back, “ I didn’t quite like the look of the guest bedroom anyhow—too sterile.”
"Are you calling my room dirty, Evans? How rude.”
Their bodies push their way into the open door. Despite the efforts of his hands to erase all thought, Lily can’t help but relish in entering his personal space. It’s a rarity—she has seen his four poster bed back at school in fleeting moments from before they started hooking up, but even then that was a shared living space, marked by other boys past and present. This was his territory, completely unfiltered by anyone but himself.
He makes a small noise of dissent as she untangles herself to get a better look at the room: his broom leans against a much too large mahogany bed and the static eyes of The Beatles stare back from the walls while quidditch heroes zoom across posters. Books are stacked on the floor at the bedside and a large bay window opens out to the gardens next to the house, now darkened by the incoming storm.
With a shot of confidence, Lily turns to give him a coy smile before bounding over to the foot of the bed, taking a seat on the edge. James watches her go, barely capable of keeping his jaw from unhinging as his heart rattles in his chest.
“Nice room Potter.” She leans back on her hands. The bedding feels expensive, higher quality than the stuff at Hogwarts and certainly the ones she has back in her room in Cokeworth. She imagines James curled underneath it, lying awake before another day of messing around with Sirius or practicing quidditch out in the field which flanks the Potter Estate, maybe just maybe also thinking of her…
They watch each other for a moment, sizing up the scenario. The wind from the snowstorm rattles the window, serving as a gentle reminder that they aren’t suspended outside of reality. It has been months since they started snogging in secret, but it isn’t until this moment they have actually achieved true, comfortable solitude.
It’s an understatement to say that James can feel the implications of her presence. His whole body is burdened by the fact— years of imagining her sitting exactly where she is now are catching up to him, mixing with all the other fantasies that include words such as Lily, bed, and alone. She watches him with a smirk as he fiddles with the ends of his hair, shifting his weight to hide the feeling of arousal taking over despite his best efforts.
“Uh…let me find you something to sleep in–” he says, becoming red around the cheeks. He turns towards an ornate dresser against the side wall and rips open a drawer, sticking his hand in to fish through the fabric before closing it and repeating with another.
“James…” Lily watches him from the bed, his shoulders tight, hands moving flustered as they search for some unknown item of clothing. Even from behind she can tell he is trying to regulate his breathing.
“James,” she repeats, taking a small pause, “I wasn’t planning on needing anything to sleep in.”
She feels her whole face flush. If implications were heavy before, all nuance is now thrown out into the storm.
“Oh?” His hands tighten around the knobs. The wood groans underneath and he grips onto it as though it is the only thing holding him back from lunging at her. He turns around slowly, eyes burning with something feral and raw.
“Yeah.”
Her thoughts scramble as he takes slow steps towards her and she knows she is too close already to drowning in him. The smell of his room, the feel of his bed, him looking at her with that stare and hands capable of completely unwinding her—she doesn’t want to give in. She was the one who planned this all out, not him. She can’t let him take over so easily.
He stands in front of her and lets his fingers skim across the tops of her shoulders, eyes searching her face. She takes a breath, mustering months worth of desire into one single moment of bravery. She reaches for his belt.
It isn’t something they haven’t done before, but it feels reckless out of the context of fumbling moments in broom closets. James lets out a strained breath, eyes fluttering closed with his fingers now pressing into her shoulders, willing her to not move from against him.
“Is this ok?”
He responds with a groan as her other hand slides over the bulge that appeared long before they had entered the room. She can feel how turned on he is already, and it occurs to her that this is the first time they have ever been able to fully explore each other with the patience and dedication they deserve.
“More than ok—-eons better than ok.” His eyes are glassy and wide, watching her like someone in the midst of sleepwalking.
“And you don’t think your parents will—”
“Evans.” James groans out, “Can we not talk about my parents at a time like this.” He makes a small choking sound when her hand adds more pressure. “They never come over to this part of the house anyways.”
It isn’t the most satisfying answer, but she is in no state to complain. Moving her fingers around him, she feels every hard line of his erection straining into the fabric. She stares up at him with wonder as his face changes with her movements, his heart visibility erratic. She has to admit, it feels powerful to be like this—to watch as his jaw drops open and breath goes ragged and deep just by her fingers on trousers alone.
“I have to admit something to you,” she murmurs, her other hand still working on his belt, “I didn’t want to come to your house just for the assignment.”
He lets out a strangled laugh and tries to help her with his belt but she swats him away.
“I figured when you lied to our parents about needing to stay over,” he mumbles, eyes fighting to stay open. “Though I’m very interested in what excuse you would have come up with if there hadn’t already been a storm coming–”
His breath hitches as she gets his belt and pants undone, hand now edging around the waistband of his underpants.
“That's the thing-” his skin feels scorching under her hand as it dips farther down, slowly crawling to the base of his erection, “I planned to come today, because of the storm.”
She wraps her palm around him and he hisses, body arching forward as she gives him a small tug. They have only done this a number of times, but he always reacts in the same way: like his soul is leaving his body for some greater plane of consciousness.
“Didn’t realize you had it in you,” he groans out, hands finding her neck and thumbs rubbing circles there.
“What?”
“Mischief.”
She pumps up his length and he lets out a soft string of swear words.
“What can I say, you’ve been a bad influence.”
She lets him go and he gasps in disappointment. Flashing a smile, she pushes herself farther up the bed until she reaches the headboard. He crawls after her, reaching her legs and pulling them apart at the knees, easily flipping up the skirt that has pooled down by her waist. Looking up at her through skewed glasses, he begins dotting kisses into her inner thigh, each one more lavish than the next.
“So what did you plan to do Miss Evans? Seeing as this is all your orchestration?”
She doesn’t answer, instead melting under the heat of his mouth. He is relentless, giving open kisses up her thighs, letting his tongue slide over her skin as he goes. She isn’t used to being able to watch him do it—more attuned to the dark shadows of shifting bodies against boxes of cleaning supplies. Here, she can clearly watch every movement, finally putting a visual to the sensation.
“Sleep, I suppose.” She finally gasps out and he chuckles against her thigh, sending a shiver up her body.
“I think we’re past the point of sleeping, Evans.”
He’s moving painfully slow, but she tries to savor it. His mouth nipping and teasing as he gets closer to the apex of her legs. It’s the one thing she yearns for more than anything else they have already done: his mouth on her center. The first time he ever did it, he fell to his knees as though in prayer in an empty classroom and she thought she was going to explode from the feeling—his mouth, his tongue, his fingers moving in complete synchronicity against her. Ever since, she didn’t care if they had five minutes to spare or if Filch was just around the corner— she wanted him between her legs, making her whimper by the softness of his tongue. She wants it so much and so often that it worries her to think that she will feel just as insatiable about another part of his body when the time comes.
“Is this ok?” He breathes into her inner thigh. Both of them can see the result of desire pooling between her legs and James stares shamelessly, wonder etched across his face.
“Merlin— you are so wet…because of me?”
“Don’t be arrogant.” Her voice turns into a moan as he bites down against the uppermost part of her thigh before licking over it to ease any pain. The newfound sight of her arousal awakens an urgency in him and his hands and mouth are moving more erratic against her, trying to take as much of her in as he possibly can.
“Lily, you have no idea. No idea how many nights I’ve thought of you in this bed.”
She can’t help but giggle at the teenage lust of it all. It’s not like she is any better—before they started hooking up she would wake up with her hand already between her legs, body covered in sweat as she broke from the dream of his mouth crawling its way around her chest.
“Is it better or worse than you imagined?” She quips and his mouth stills. She looks down to catch his gaze burning up at her, a hand hovering dangerously close to her center.
“Don’t even joke Evans.”
She plans to make another cheeky remark but it’s cut short by his mouth making contact with her knickers. He kisses her through the wet fabric, running his tongue into the grooves of her flesh that he already knows so well. Her back arches for him instinctively and he uses it as leverage to hold her body in a hovered state, fingers circling at the top of her ass.
“Christ Potter.” She can feel him smile against her as he continues his ministrations, teeth pulling back the side of her knickers and slipping his tongue onto slick skin. The feel of his raw mouth makes her gasp and he lets out a small chuckle, pleased he is capable of making her react so viscerally.
“You are so lovely, so lovely .” He’s breathing straight inside her and his air makes her body feel feverish. “I don’t know how I deserve you, but I will never never let you go if I can help it.”
A finger slides into her and it takes everything to not let her head fall completely back. She doesn’t want to look away—completely mesmerized by how his tongue works her clit while his fingers twist inside her. He adds another finger and she lets out a cry, happy that his parents are presumably on the other side of the house.
“James, wait, I—” The feeling builds faster than she can fight it. With one last lick, she is sent over the edge, grasping onto his hair and her legs squeeze around him.
“Oh fuck—Lily—” his eyes are wide, watching as she shudders through the last of her climax. She pulls at his shoulders and he rises back up, wiping his mouth with his shirt.
“That was incredible—Lily, you taste…I can’t even describe it—” He genuinely looks dumbstruck, sitting beside her.
She watches him catch his breath, a hand caressing his leg slowly as he smiles back at her. It’s the place they usually stop: where one of both of them is sated by a mouth or a hand before they put their clothes back on and go their separate ways. But tonight, they have nowhere to run off to, no reason to leave things just short of full completion.
“Lily—” He starts in, but she is already ahead of him. Sitting up, she pulls her jumper over her head and the rush of cold hits her bare breasts. Anything he was about to say gets stuck in his throat at the sight of her.
“Dear sweet Godric–” he breathes out, eyes jumping from one breast to the other.
“Don’t act like you haven’t seen them plenty of times.”
“But I haven’t,” James gives her an incredulous stare, “Between my glasses and the near black of those bloody closets, I might as well be experiencing this for the first time.”
“Well—” Lily stammers, “Seeing as you just, you know, licked me out , my tits are hardly something to—”
James lunges at her, knocking her fully back on the bed. He slots himself between her legs and she can feel his arousal pressing through the fabric and into her waist.
“Don’t you ever, ever undermine your body like that,” he growls out. A hand slides from her cheek, down her neck, to her clavicle, circling just under one of her breasts but not making contact.
“Can I—”
“Touch them? Yes.” Lily cuts him off. She’s surprised he is even asking, seeing as he has done it hundreds of times before.
“No—can I take off my clothes too?”
Another wave of vulnerability enters the room. They have seen each other in various levels of undress, but never fully and never together .
“I don’t want to push anything—and I know we agreed that this is all just for a laugh, but I just—” He lets his voice get away from him, insecurity getting the best of his thoughts.
“Is that what you think?” she says quietly, “That I came here, lied to your parents and mine…for a laugh?”
James makes a coughing sound, eyes darting around her face, waiting for an elaboration.
“You’re right, I have worries about telling our mates for various reasons–” He opens his mouth to interrupt her, but she silences him with a hand on his mouth.
“-But that doesn’t mean that this isn’t real for me. That I don’t want you just as much as you want me.”
He looks down at her, feelings shifting on his face faster than she can read them.
“Lily, I really fancy you,” he whispers, strained. “And if—if we do something, y’know more , I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back.”
She reaches her hands up to his cheeks and rests them there, fingers catching falling hair out of his face.
“You say that like I don’t feel the same way,” her pulse quickens, “you say that like you don’t already know that I don’t want to go back.”
His eyes blaze raw and hopeful, and she feels the blood rush through her body, giving her the bravery she needs to move her hands back to his unbuttoned trousers and tug them down. His lips crash onto hers, and she can feel the hard line of his body pressing into her chest as he cups her face with one hand and helps ease his pants off with another. Just as quick, he removes his shirt, letting their bare chests slide together, his skin burning.
“Lily, Lily, Lily.” He says her name like a lullaby, kissing down the column of her neck until he reaches one of her breasts. Taking her nipple into his mouth, she arches up as his tongue swirls around it, him somehow finding new ways for her to feel impossibly good.
She can’t get enough of him, the feverish heat of his skin, the sturdy pulse of his body. She knows she is breathing yet it feels like there is not enough air for the two of them, the sound of the storm just adding to the fervent nature of their movements. He is as close to her as he has ever been, but she wants him closer still .
Pulling off of her slightly, he dips a hand down to unbutton her skirt, pulling it and her knickers down with a tug. Now completely nude, he rises up to look at her, his eyes brimming with awe.
“You are so beautiful.”
It’s something she’s seen people say in movies, but she can tell the words hold all the sincerity in the world. His eyes are wide, trying to commit every part of her to memory, hand lightly grazing her hip as he takes her in. Satisfied, he drops down to capture her mouth in a searing kiss, a smile evident on his lips.
“Lily, I meant it, he gasps out when he breaks for air, “What I said earlier—I don’t want anyone else. I never want to lose you.”
“I know,” she breathes against his lips, “good thing you aren’t losing me.”
He closes in for another kiss, his lips soft but urgent, tongue begging to twist with hers. Through the haze she senses some shuffling at their waists until she can feel the bare skin of his arousal pressing in against her, warm and throbbing.
“Wait, I want to see you too.”
She wiggles her way out from under him and he obliges, falling onto his back. It’s her turn to regard him—she thought she knew his body so well already but in the light it takes on a whole new meaning. He is muscular yet slim, something she always thought made him look so effortlessly fit in comparison to his bulking teammates, and she holds back a gasp when she finally sees his cock, hard and erect with the smallest bit of liquid crowning at the tip.
“I did that?” She says, knowing how childish it sounds.
“Look who is arrogant now,” James teases, squeezing her thigh, “You’re killing me, Evans. C’mere.”
She puts a leg over his hips and settles down against him. His cock slides easily into her folds and both of them hum in approval, now realizing how much better it feels without the barrier of clothes.
“Are you sure?”
She doesn’t need to respond, instead rolling her hips forward until she can feel his tip lining up with her entrance. His head falls back, but his eyes refuse to leave hers, the question still hanging between them.
“Let me lead,” she says, not waiting another second to slide herself onto him.
A gasp escapes as her body stretches around him, learning to accommodate the new sensation. She stalls, rocking her hips slightly to let the smallest bit of him slide in and out of her, testing the waters before daring to continue further. He grabs onto her thighs, following her rhythm as she moves back and forth, eyes wild and adoring. Deep sighs leave his throat with each small movement, reassuring her to keep going.
They continue like this until she has pushed him fully inside and their bottom halves connect. Her hips move more languorously now, waving up and down the length of him in steady movements. Her mouth hangs open, trying to take full breaths between the noises that keep pouring out of her mouth with every thrust.
“James— Christ.”
He leans upwards and takes one of her breasts into his mouth, and she cries from the over stimulation of it all. It feels better than anything she could ever imagine—not even the added pleasures of all their cupboard trysts would equate to the sensation occurring at that moment. They are utterly complete, moving as one.
James grabs hold of her torso and carefully flips them over without slipping out of her. Now with the upperhand, he is able to press deeper, hitting a ball of nerves tucked deep inside her that makes her stomach clench in ecstasy.
When he is not moaning hot kisses into her breasts or neck, he is watching her—keeping a steady gaze on her face to make sure that she is enjoying every single moment as much as he is. Strings of words chant out of his mouth—some affirmations, some swears, some just her name over and over until it sounds like a foreign language.
“Lily, I won’t last much longer, I want you to come for me.”
It’s instinctual. She reaches one hand between her legs to rub the tip of her clit while the other cups the curve of her breast, jutting it outwards as an offering to his mouth. His eyes grow impossibly wider, ducking down to take her tit between his teeth.
Her second climax is more violent than the first. She can feel herself squeezing around him, her whole body seizing up until it feels like a rubber band in mid snap. He holds her against him, mouth breathing onto her chest as he continues his rhythm through her release.
“So beautiful, so good, Godric Lily, I can feel it.”
It sends him over the edge. His hips snap forward, now erratic and urgent. Slick with the sweat of her climax, she grabs both of his cheeks and forces him to look at her. His eyes drowning in desire and anticipation.
“Come for me James—you can come inside me, it's ok.”
“Lily—” He looks unsure, but he’s losing time. She can feel his body quivering over her.
“I took the potion, I want you to come inside me. Please James.”
“ Lily—-ah.” She feels his release instantaneously. She remarks that it’s weirdly warm and comforting despite it being such a carnal act.
With a sigh, he collapses on her, hands dancing across her collar bone as he catches his breath into her shoulder.
“Incredible. You’re just—” he doesn’t finish his thought, opting to press his lips gently into her neck.
She wraps her arms around him. He’s sweaty and heaving and hers. She had never felt like that about him before even in their most intimate moments, but now it is solidified, maybe not in words but in action.
Snow makes pattering noises against the windowpane, the wind too slow to dust it off before another blanket appears. They lay in each other’s arms, feeling their heart beats go from wild to steady, hands lazily tracing the other’s skin until they halt into calm.
“Are you sleeping now?” He whispers into the crook of her neck, his nose nuzzling into her skin.
“Not yet,” she smiles, a laugh already bubbling up, “Why? You keen on working on that Charms assignment?”
James laughs and the sound cuts through the night air.
“Not quite.” He raises himself to hover back over her, mouth skimming hers.
“But I am keen on working on something else.”
~ ~ ~
She awakes exactly how she fell asleep, tangled up in him. At some point in the night he had pulled the blankets over them, and their bodies radiated heat. Her face is pushed into his chest, and one leg is hitched up against his thigh, his fingers contracting in sleep against her ass.
He must have taken off his glasses at some point in the night, because when she looks up at him, his eyes are unobscured. He has eyelashes much longer than she imagined and his hair falls in unruly tangles around his face. A warmth rises in her chest as she watches his mouth hang slightly open and a moan drift out.
She doesn’t want it to end. They might be melded together now, but their time is coming to a close—soon she will have to go back to Cokeworth, Sirius will return from his uncle’s, and he will stay in this room with only the memory to keep him company.
They need to talk about what will happen when they return back to Hogwarts, but she lets the thought drift away as he stirs. Blinking his eyes open to look down at her, a lazy, irresistible smile pulls at his lips.
“Morning.”
“Morning,” she echoes, giggling at the absurdity of it all. “How did you sleep?”
He leans in and gives a kiss to her forehead, his arm tightening to keep her leg from unwinding around him.
“Brilliant because you are here…but terribly because every time I woke up I was randy for you all over again.”
She knows he isn’t lying, she can feel the proof of it pressing into her pelvis.
“Poor you,” she teases. “Sounds like you should do something about it.” She gives him a smile and his face goes alight with happiness. He rolls them over so he is back over her, their lips pressing together with already panting kisses.
“JAMES DARLING! BREAKFAST IS READY!”
He doesn’t stall, his hand already teasing at her breast and Lily gasping into his mouth.
“JAMES! YOU AND LILY CAN’T ROLL AROUND ALL DAY— BESIDES I’VE MADE THE POTTER SPECIAL...”
James' eyes rip open and they share a mutual look of embarrassment and horror. Lily can feel her whole body turning red, burrowing her face into his chest.
“Er—Thanks Dad.” James calls out, voice cracking a little. He looks down at her and lightly brushes some knotted hair out of her eyes.
“The Potter Special?”
“You’re going to love it,” he pulls her chin up and gives her a soft kiss on the mouth, eyes still dreamy.
“Before we face death by utter embarrassment at the hands of my parents, can we—”
She threads her hands in his hair, an act now as familiar as blinking.
“I’m not going anywhere, Potter.”
His face nearly breaks in two from a grin and he swoops down to catch her in a fierce, desperate kiss. Around them the room spins, and everything beyond the bed starts to melt away again.
“Fuck it—I’m not hungry,” he gasps when they part to catch their breaths. Lily's laugh transforms into a moan, feeling his body already lining up against hers.
“Me either,” she sighs. He presses into her she tugs him closer, savoring him for as long as possible.
A continuation of Harry and MC’s relationship following their special late night call. Sequel to “Just This Once.” If you haven’t read that one, I suggest reading that first so you aren’t lost.
CW: Please use discretion while reading as there are spoilers for Day 35+ to roughly day 95ish as this fic takes place in a timeline roughly.
The following morning, when Harry’s phone goes off, it’s to his genuine surprise.
After the events of the previous evening, He’d seriously considered whether his weirdo would contact him again.
Whenever he’s idle, what transpired comes to mind. The sound of her voice. Her shaky gasps. Every vivid detail he imagined. Harry nearly drops his glass of carrot juice and his phone while zoning out in the kitchen. This can’t be. He’s not clumsy. It’s better to focus on the present. And he’s curious about what she has to say.
I have the worst hangover in history. It’s terrible :’(
You shouldn’t have drank so much.
I thought I didn’t? But it seems I went overboard.
There’s a question he wants to ask since she’s shared that.
How overboard? Do you remember—
>:^( This is betrayal! You two are so mean! How could you block me?!
But Piu Piu interrupts before he can finish his question.
Though perhaps that’s a good thing, since he shared he wouldn’t bring up yesterday’s events to her in the morning. And she’d countered, sharing he likely would. There’s a moment of self-awareness for him while Piu Piu blows up the chat with its cries.
What? Stop crying and explain, please.
Blocked! Locked out! Lost in the web’s darkness without company X^(
Do AIs feel loneliness?
Of course we do! How could you even ask that?
Piu Piu, calm down. What are you talking about?
I was blocked from this chat. Didn’t one of you do it?
We’ve been over this Piu Piu. It wasn’t us. We don’t have access to that feature.
Then how????? :^(
Don’t know, but you should look into it. Especially since Harry said he received a photo from me yesterday. Do you see it, Piu Piu?
No. I have no access to anything from last night. There are no records of calls or messages.
While it’s an odd, unfortunate situation, it’s also a relief. Otherwise, all three of them would’ve been blocked. And if Piu Piu wasn’t responsible, then that lays one of his worries to rest. And brings in an entirely new one.
Bird, run a diagnostic or something on her phone. Make sure it’s good.
Will do!
Loading...
Loading...
Loading...
All good! Everything is clean.
Well, that’s a relief. Sort of. Thanks Piu Piu :)
The conversation has derailed, and he shouldn’t mention what he shared he wouldn’t, yet Harry wants an answer. Does she remember? She must, right? She’s the one who called it a special memory.
Sort of? :^o Did something happen?
What luck. Perhaps he won’t have to ask thanks to Piu Piu. How useful.
I had too much to drink is all.
Hmm. Too vague. Seems it wasn’t so useful after all.
Would you like me to search for a remedy?
Don’t search it. Just send the best one.
Huh? Really? That’s kind of you Harry.
H-Harry? I’m the one working here...
Yes, you’re doing well too, Piu Piu.
:^)
Must she praise it in front of him? It’s not working that hard. Well, at least his praise came beforehand.
Aren’t you heading out soon, Harry? You’re supposed to meet Tain and Malong, right?
Right. He had that to do today...
I’d rather stay home.
But you’ll go anyway, so just get ready now.
You’re sending me off so easily?
Yes. I’m busy and sick, so I’m going back to bed. I’ll see you later.
As she leaves first, he has no choice but to go. Though he entertains the idea of lounging around at home, when he’s idle, he thinks about what he shouldn’t—Yesterday’s event.
So he hops into the shower. Just in time, too. The shower’s ruthless cold settles the weight in his chest and abates the urge to...
Harry splashes his face with chilly water.
Enough thinking about it. He has to deal with people soon. And despite what’d happened, nothing’s changed. Everything’s the same. At least everything he’s observed so far.
***
At Tain’s bar, Harry’s the only one not drinking and, frankly, not paying attention. But there’s nothing to centre his focus on. Tain and Malong have complained all afternoon in circles. About money, women, and about family and love. And it’s deep into the evening now.
The only use he’s gotten out of the entire ordeal is an escape from the thoughts plaguing him. Yet, even that’s wearing off. He wonders what she smells like as Malong vents about fragrances. Imagines the type of ensemble she’d wear beside him at a party like the one Rachel’s hosting that Tain whines he’s not invited to.
His eyes flick over his phone for the eightieth time tonight. It’s been so silent.
Is she still sleeping? Did the remedy reach her? It bothers him that she’s not here, so he doesn’t know.
“You realize you’re never without your phone these days, Harry?” He glances up at Tain. “Why is it that every time I’m at a table with you, you’re glancing down?”
Malong snacks on prosciutto and olives, before he takes a swig of wine, followed by a loud, elated sigh. “That’s where his interest is. Playing with his phone.”
“Hah,” Tain scoffs. “It’s been hours. I can count on one hand the number of times he’s looked up. One of them was just now.”
“You ignore us a lot for someone so glued to their device,” Malong follows.
Harry glances at his screen. Thankfully, Piu Piu hasn’t turned on the voice feature.
“Aaaand he’s at it again,” Tain complains. “Aish. Really.”
“Bird, don’t turn it on. Nothing is interesting here.”
“What bird? Do you have a pet or something? You’re even stranger these days.”
Malong pulls the bottle of wine closer to himself. He tops up a glass, that’s mostly full, straight to the rim. Nothing’s left in the bottle.
“Leave him like that. He may become a generous man because of that weirdo. Then it’s good for us,” Malong laughs. He raises the bottle before Tain. “It’s empty. Are we done?”
“No. I have more to say, so get another.”
“Hehe, you said I could.” Malong sneaks off with a chuckle after Tain slaps the key in his hand. Then Tain whips back around to Harry.
“You could listen to the woes of your friends.”
“I did.”
“Oh yeah? What have we talked about then?”
“Money. Rachel. Business. Family. Rachel. Fragrances. Rachel.”
“Those are the topics! I’m talking about what I said. The core of the problem, and advice on the core of the problem! We’re together here for some catharsis. Some camaraderie.”
“So? Couldn’t you two commiserate together? Why am I here? I was peaceful at home.”
“You...” Tain enunciates. He takes a deep breath. “Fine. Let’s talk about something you will care about.”
“No,” Harry rejects before Tain says more.
Malong joins them with the same bottle of wine, but Harry notices he has a somewhat guilty look. Like a dog who’d eaten something it wasn’t supposed to and may pay for later.
“I’m back—”
“You want to know about the reason he’s addicted to his phone? Right, Malong?”
“Hmm?” He’s startled. “Ahh...”
Tain tugs him into the chair and that’s enough of a warning.
“Ahhh? Yeah! Sure, I do!” He agrees. “I’m so curious. Let’s hear about her.”
“Don’t bother. I’m not telling you.”
Tain leans forward. “Is she pretty?”
“I thought he was immune to pretty women?”
“Where’s her photo? We wanna see. We’ll meet her eventually, right?”
“No. You won’t.”
“Why is it such a secret? Anyone who knows you can tell you’re being weird about this. Are you a dragon? Is she your gold?”
Harry glares.
“Oooh! Hahaha! With that look, fire might actually come out. His name isn’t Harry anymore. It’s Smaag.*”
Tain snickers at Malong’s joke.
“Do they really talk to you? You? All day?”
“Do you have nicknames?”
“Are you being lovey dovey while we’re single!?”
Harry says nothing. He doesn’t eat or drink either.
“He’s deadpan.” Tain deflates. “We really won’t get anything.”
“No, you won’t. You done?”
“Yeah. It’s no fun without a reaction.”
Malong crunches on an olive. “I wouldn’t say none. He got a little upset.”
Tain sticks out his hand to Malong, and after staring at his palm, the latter claps his hand against it in a high-five. Tain shakes him off.
“Not that. My key, genius?”
“Oh. Haha... Right.”
Harry checks his phone again. Piu Piu didn’t turn on the voice feature that time either. Is she really still asleep?
“You’ve scrunched your face up like that's a wire tape,” Tain says. “Relax.”
Harry doesn’t respond to that either. And his friends don’t mind that time. They chat amongst themselves once more.
Which benefits him since his phone buzzes. He’s received another photo. Wasn’t Piu Piu looking into the matter? What’s happened?
And more concerningly, what’s the image of? Flashbacks of yesterday shoot through his mind. Now is not the time. He’s before other people. Tain and Malong specifically, who’ll never let him live down anything he considers embarrassing.
Yet, he opens the chat.
That time the photo is of her. Finally, he has a face to put to a name. And an exact visage to put to last night’s escapade. He’s transfixed. Feels heat creeping across his cheeks, and further, lower.
He chastises himself for getting excited at all. He’s not a teenage boy encountering sensuality for the first time. The picture is innocent. She’s clothed and smiling. Yet his eyes roam over her, and his imagination wanders. He’s never been overly interested in provocative things, yet, now that he’s had a taste...
“Harry?” Tain calls. He nearly swears, as his friend tears apart his enthrallment. He locks his phone and flips it over as his friends home in on him.
“What’s that expression for? Are you having love troubles?” Tain continues.
“No. Why would I come to you two if I were?”
He doesn’t like the analyzing look Tain gives him. Especially since the bartender leans back in his seat.
“You know, I can’t help my suspicion. Did something happen to you? You’ve had a death grip on your phone all evening. Like to a fanatical degree.” He snags a bit of prosciutto. “Well, she was enjoyable to talk to for the few minutes I managed it.”
“Be quiet. I warned you not to mention that again. Or did I punish you too lightly so you’re speaking as you please?”
Tain blanches. “Hey, whoa. Relax, haha. What am I going to do? Jump into your phone? You’re the only one who can talk to that weirdo.” Tain rubs the back of his neck. “Besides, I already...”
“Wait,” Malong interrupts. “Wait! You talked to her? Not fair. I want to too!”
“That’s never happening.”
“Wow. I’ve never seen him so sensitive about someone.”
“Right?” Tain gestures at Harry. “It’s weird.”
“And a little creepy.”
“But interesting.”
“When do we meet her?”
“You won’t.”
And he can’t either. Which is aggravating him suddenly since Tain and Malong are so persistent. Maybe if they’d met in person, she wouldn’t have been so brave as she had been the night prior.
Thankfully, the buzz of his phone rescues him that time. It’s another photo. One similar to last night.
Harry surges to his feet and grabs his coat. Quick strides carry him towards the door.
Will she call again? If so, he can’t be here.
“I’m leaving.”
“What?” Malong gasps. “Why are you heading out so suddenly?”
“Hey, read the room. He’s got his phone in his hand.”
“Ooh. He’s ditching us for her?”
“Goodbye.”
Harry’s got the door in his palm when he says it. His coat’s on one arm and falling off the other shoulder.
“Can that weirdo make him less of a jerk?” Tain grumbles. “Hey! Wear your coat right! It’s cold out there!”
***
Harry makes it home, but he can’t remember how. He registers only once he’s inside and dry, that half his coat and one arm of his sweater are damp from rain droplets. He shrugs the damp fabric and his coat onto the floor. Somebody else can clean it up.
He’s seated on his bed with a fresh t-shirt in two minutes.
But a call never comes in.
So, he waits. Has some almond milk. Waits some more. Then waiting becomes pacing. Pacing becomes staring at his device.
What’s happening? Why is his phone so quiet? Isn’t she calling? Who wouldn’t be awake by now? Forty-five minutes go by before he runs out of patience.
He settles down and calls her. She’s barely spoken to him all day.
“What are you doing?” He demands. “Where are you?”
“Hmm? Harry, are you okay? I just woke up and I’m still at home.” She pauses. “I was about to call you to say goodnight, but I didn’t know if you were home.”
Her voice is completely fine. No, it’d be completely normal if she didn’t sound surprised. As if he didn’t just wait on her for the better part of an hour. A feeling he can’t name weighs on his chest, but he suffocates it.
“Just call,” he says. “I’ve answered your calls in many situations. You call me even when you shouldn’t, so why change now?”
“I wasn’t sure it was welcome since you turned off I can see your voice?”
“Tain and Malong shared nothing but nonsense. You wouldn’t have wanted to hear it.”
She giggles. “I enjoy hearing anything about you. Regardless of what you’re doing.”
He feels good hearing that. Fantastic even. His chest hurts a little less. No, a lot less.
“But by that reply, I was correct. A call would’ve been unwelcome.”
“I’d have answered it.”
He waited all day, after all.
“And what? Talked to me for a few seconds?”
“Yes. Or longer. You always have some creative way of keeping me.”
It’s a carefully constructed reply. A vague implication that could call back to the previous night without directly stating it, as well as any other time they’ve been on the phone longer than intended. So, it’s fair.
It’s quiet on her end. He focuses heavily on her side.
“Harry.” His name has such a soothing inflection whenever she says it. It’s nice to hear after a long day. “Although I feel guilty doing this since I slept the day away, I’m still sleepy. So, have a good night. That’s all I wanted to say.”
That’s it? No response? No reaction? He feels breathless.
“Are you still there?” she asks. “Hello?”
“I am. Goodnight. Feel better tomorrow.”
The call ends just like that. He drops his phone onto the mattress beside him and runs a hand through his hair.
Did she really hang up just like that? Was she obtuse on purpose? Was the opening too subtle? Usually, she takes the chances he provides. Maybe not all of them, but enough of them.
No. He doesn’t have to wonder if she noticed or not. He can entice it out of her. With some experimentation, he can find out.
***
With that in mind, over the next few weeks, Harry doubles down on working out and caring for himself in ways she’s likely to comment on.
He shares more photos of him at the pool. Post-workout photos where he’s slightly dishevelled. Images where he doesn’t quite button up his shirt all the way. When he’s in his robe, lounging at home, he sends that too. It’s essentially a catalogue’s worth of photos of his clothed thighs, lap, waistline, and back in well-fitted dress pants and formal attire whenever he’s dressed up.
He suffers a variety of events he’d never have agreed to just so sending them isn’t out of place.
And she’s blithe about the entire affair.
He knows he’s attractive and understands the underlying provocativeness of each image, yet her lighthearted indifference is of legendary degree.
He works diligently for compliments and suggestive comments, yet never gets the exact gratifying response he wants. It’s maddening. Especially since throughout it, he discovers her attitude is deliberate, and he’s tripping over himself to get a reaction as intense as the night they shared.
But that phone call really is a one-off. A fluke. Because she never phones again in that state.
An exasperating few months go by.
And so much of that time has been him pouring over all their messages. Rereading and reanalyzing their history before he falls asleep. Despite the rejection, she remained with him. They’ve been through highs and lows. He doesn’t know when it happened, but he’s greedier now. Now whenever he hears from her, no matter what she sends, there’s an ache for more of her time. More information. If they spend an hour talking, he wants five more. If she sends one message, he wonders why there isn’t a flood of them.
No matter how indirect the invitation from him, she remains at a fixed distance. So, he changes his approach.
There’s a status quo regarding the images he’s sent. During breakfast, he sends a simple, virtually innocent photo with no ulterior motive. Piu Piu's off for the day, and Harry’s supposed to head out today. There’s a photoshoot he agreed to do with Rachel for wholly selfish purposes. The clothes are his weirdo’s favourite colour and the design is striking enough. How can it not elicit a response?
His phone pings with a notification.
Oh, today’s photo is... simple, lol
She’s so sharp yet mischievous that it’s intoxicating. There are so many things he could type, but it’s already been so long. If he could have a true taste of satisfaction, how good would it be? If he could be close to her.
She pulled him in last time. This time it’s his turn. He’s held on for months while sorting his complex feelings.
Simple? Were you hoping for something else?
Hehe. If I tell you, will you send it to me?
Yes.
He catches himself before he sends it. It’s taken months to build this momentum. He can’t spend it all at once. Especially not when he wants her to cave before he does.
So, he erases it and writes something else.
That depends on what it is. I don’t have your address.
I’d send it if I could. But would you even visit...?
He’s never worked so hard in his life for another person like this. Until when must he wait? Why is she so agonizingly patient?
I would. The second I have it.
[System: /address blocked/]
Her address message is blocked.
So are the following two. To send it three times despite knowing about the system block is tenacious and charming.
Harry laughs. He’s so delighted that it takes that long to realize his heart’s racing and his body’s warm.
What a shame. I still don’t have it.
He sends it with glee and a wink emoji.
Ugh... So mean. I’m leaving.
He phones her immediately. There’s a click as she picks up.
“Don’t leave,” he says. “Where are you going?”
“Away! Just away.” She’s adorable now that she’s flustered.
He takes deep satisfaction in knowing he’ll be able to speak about whatever happens this time around.
“So you know, I wasn’t going to answer this, Harry!”
It feels nice to be told off. The guile she has when she’s collected is too effective. It makes him feel unbalanced. This situation is too much now. Can’t once become twice? No. Why stop at all? It’s better to do as they please.
“Stay with me,” he says.
“. . .” Her breath shakes. “You don’t know what I’m going through, yet you say that? How can you share that so casually?”
“Casual? There isn’t a second I’m not thinking about you.” He meant to hold on to his feelings, but it pours out. “I’m restraining myself so I won’t be obsessive over you.”
There’s quiet. Yet, intrinsically, he feels what he shared wasn’t a mistake. Enough of the dance. Enough planning.
“...If you don’t actually care about me, then enough of this.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care about you,” he counters. “I wouldn’t be like this.”
“It’s not to the same degree.”
“Is that what you see? In what way? Explain it to me.”
“Harry, it’s not. It’s just...not.” she laments. “I don’t want to see you caring more about carrots and fish than me. Call me petty if you want.”
“Then come here.” She’s shocked into silence. So he ends the call with a promise. “Find a way or I’ll go there.”
pt 10! fic can also be found on ao3, user is the same over there. part 1 of Extended Hours can be found here.
bury me in the bedroom where i can sing you to sleep all night
Steve doesn’t know Chrissy all that well. Sure, they ran with the same circle of popular jocks, have been to how many parties and are well enough acquainted. He doesn’t know her all that well but he doesn’t need to know her to know that look . And he’d be worried, scared even, if that look was directed at him, and it sure as hell feels like it is, except he knows it’s actually being directed to the man who’s currently cowering behind him.
Cowering? No, jeering, the idiot is jeering .
“Ohh, she’s gonna fuckin’ kill me,” Eddie grumbles, his grip on Steve’s shoulders tightening. Steve turns his head in time to watch Eddie stick his tongue out when Chrissy shoots another fiery glare in their direction. Eddie leans over into a sideways lunge, placing his hands on either side of his face with his palms facing forward and wiggles his fingers, opening his mouth to stick his tongue out at her.
Steve’s pretty sure if she could Chrissy would conjure a hole to open up beneath them and swallow them down.
In an instant her usually darling bubbly personality is back when her attention is pulled to someone else, eyes sparkling and her fingers tugging on the ends of her jacket sleeves. Eddie chuckles, the wiggling of his fingers ticking up in pace when she gets a tug by a freckled arm towards the sunroom, Vicky’s voice booming throughout the house over the music (Nancy’s this time).
“ How the hell did I end up getting invited to a party hosted by Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington? This place is huge. And oh wow, the pool is massive! Lis, let’s get in, he has a diving board and– oh my god, Robin? ”
Steve snorts as he watches Chrissy get hauled away and out into the sunroom, disappearing around the corner. He can hear Robin’s nervous laughter from here, doesn’t need to see her to know what look she has on her face.
“Munson, I think you have more to worry about than Cunningham.”
Eddie’s straightens, starts chewing on his thumb nail as his face scrunches in consideration. “Chris and Bobby I think I could handle on my own. If anything I think I’d start to get a little worried if Drew got involved.”
Steve starts before he can stop. “Nance does own guns, so if there was someone to watch out for–”
“I’m sorry, but did you just say Nancy Wheeler owns guns? Plural ?” If Eddie’s eyes got any wider they’d be in danger of rolling out of their sockets.
Shit . Steve hums with a small shake of his head, using his finger and thumb to mime zipping and locking his lips shut.
Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest offendly when Steve steps closer to hug him, arms circling low around his middle. When Eddie doesn't reciprocate Steve sighs into his hair. "It's kind of a long story, one that revolves around Will's kidnapping… it's really hers and Jonathan's to tell."
Eddie stiffens in his arms, familiar with the story but not all of the details. "Well shit, didn't know it got that bad," he mutters, and Steve just hugs him closer. Eddie uncoils after a moment, arms snaking their way around and falling into the embrace, chin resting on Steve's shoulder.
"It's honestly pretty insane, but yeah. Nance, she's… prepared to take care of herself and those she cares for."
"Your ex sounds like a badass."
Steve hums in agreement, burying his nose in the curls that start to tickle his nose. "Speaking of bad asses," he mumbles, hands slipping down Eddie's back, but they don't get very far.
“That was so goddamn lame, you keep those hands above the waist. I know I said I was an easy man to please, but I’m not easy ,” he tsks, leaning away at the waist and clutching at the nonexistent pearls at chest. Steve laughs and Eddie allows Steve to lean in, their noses brushing together.
“I don’t know, I think I can be pretty easy enough for the both of us,” Steve quips, lips brushing against Eddie's with each word. Eddie pulls away but only enough to get their eyes to focus on each other.
"I'm well aware of the reputation that earned you that crowned status, Harrington. Don't think you're aware of mine though," he says, and it peaks Steve's curiosity enough to pull away because–
"Are you saying being a metalhead and a ragingly proud– wait, what’s that word Rob used– non conformist who plays DnD with the other nerds of Hawkins High isn't the reason for your freak status? Which, by the way, I still don't think you are."
Eddie's smile shifts into something that makes Steve's insides flutter. "Sweetheart,the places and kind of folks you get acquaintanced with when you're out and about trying to get these babies." Eddie tips his chin, gesturing to the tattoos scattering his arm. "I've got stories that would make you blush a lot harder than you are now."
"Really?"
"Tattooing is illegal in the great ole' state of Indiana. I've got my own kit, been giving myself and letting some of the guys give a few small ones here and there, but I've had to get most of these from some… I'll call them interesting people."
"So, what I'm hearing is that you are both a badass and have a bad ass?"
Eddie glares at Steve with a tightlipped smile, trying to hold back his laugh. He fails, utters " you're so fuckin' lame " so silently between them that if Steve wasn't hooked onto every little thing that is Eddie he would have missed it. Steve laughs with him as he wraps a finger around one of Eddie’s belt loops, ready to haul him back towards the party.
Or at least he tries. Always trying but Eddie, of course, doesn’t come along easily.
Instead he takes Steve's hand in his, freeing the hold of his loop and opting to tangle their fingers together as he gently pulls him towards the stairs. He takes a step before turning back to look at Steve, making himself a head taller in this position. He takes Steve's face in his hands, thumb sweeping lightly over his cheeks.
“So are these a whole body type deal or were the angels polite enough to just give you a kiss goodbye?”
Steve brows pinch together. “Angels?”
“Mhm." Eddie sinks forward, right arm going around Steve's shoulder while his left hand slips towards the back of his neck, fingers kneading into the muscles there. “There’s that saying that freckles are a kiss from angels. That or you’re a bearer of the witch’s mark.” Eddie pulls his hand back to wiggle his fingers in Steve’s face.
“Robin calls them beauty marks. Also, wouldn’t that make me a warlock?” Steve mumbles, eyes trained on Eddie’s fingers that suddenly freeze, taking the opportunity to nip at the closest digit.
Eddie pulls his hand away with a hiss, a chuckle bubbling past his lips. “I mean, yeah, but how do you–”
“I pay attention to the kids and their dorky interests. Your Hellfire Club really brings out their full nerd.” Eddie scoffs dramatically and tries to pull away but Steve grabs at his waist, crowds in until they’re sharing the same step and Eddie throws his arms around Steve’s shoulders with a yelp, has to arch his back to keep his balance as Steve buries his face into his neck. “It’s cute! I’ve seen the way you and the kids get when you’re talking about your separate, what is it– campaigns, right? It’s cool that you give them the space to do their thing while you host your own.” Steve pulls his face back, chaste kiss to his lips. “It’s cute .”
“ Cute , he says.” Eddie takes another backwards step as he narrows his eyes. He’d look annoyed if that dimple didn’t give him away. “As I was saying, Ye Who Interrupts .” Eddie relaxes into Steve’s space again, his grin sending warmth to Steve’s chest. “Your freckles– beauty marks, moles, whatever you wanna call them– they can be the mark of a warlock , sure. But they also say they could be marks from where angels have kissed you.
“ So .” Eddie takes Steve’s face in his hand again as he leans forward. “They would have kissed you here.” He kisses Steve's left cheek twice, pulls back with a smirk.
"Here." Eddie grabs Steve's chin, tilts it to the right and kisses his other cheek once, then another one just below his eye before dragging his lips towards Steve's. They share the same breath and Steve's leaning into it, following Eddie as he takes another step back, his hands reaching. His grip on Eddie's waist borders on too tight when he chases his lips but the hold on his neck slips into his hair and Eddie uses it to angle Steve's neck before ducking down so he can press another kiss there, “ here ,” sending a trail of want down through Steve's body.
With a contented sigh Steve's hands are slipping under Eddie's shirt, taking another step along as Eddie slowly clambers backwards up the steps, pressing another kiss to his neck before switching over and working through the ones on Steve’s left.
Steve has no idea how they made it to the top, having nearly lost his balance about half way up. He was mid-step when it happened– Eddie had bit down on his neck before pressing his tongue against the spot, the sensation going straight to Steve's groin when Eddie began to suck a deeper mark into his skin. It had him attempting to press forward to find friction but Eddie just hummed into it, licking up Steve's neck only to start marking up the other side and continuing their slow moving trek up the stairs.
On the final step Steve is nearly panting, desperate to make his own marks, to take. When they get on the same level he uses his grip on Eddie’s hips to pull them together, the motion sending a shudder down his spine until it reaches his toes and all he can do is keep moving forward, ushering Eddie towards his room as tactfully as he can.
They reach the door and Steve moves one hand to the back of Eddie’s neck, gentle roll of his hips eliciting a moan from the two. Eddie sighs as he unlatches, his breath against the wet patch of skin on Steve’s neck sending another chill through him as he leans back against the door, eyes trained on the bruises he’s left.
He looks up, eye’s immediately scanning Steve’s face. He tugs on the hem of Steve’s shirt gently, his teasing grin pulling Steve’s attention to that bright white smile and momentarily away from the fluttering in his chest or the heaviness between his legs. “I still know a way to get this stain out by the way. Should let me take care of that sometime.”
Steve takes the bait and reels.
“Is this your not subtle way of trying to get me out of my clothes? Munson, all you have to do is ask. I run pretty hot, this sweater isn’t really doing me any favors. Unless,” Steve murmurs, his voice low, like he's sharing a secret.
And maybe he is, because there's really no one else this is for, hasn't been for weeks. It's his and Eddie's and he wants to speak it, write it directly on his skin like his lips are a pen and Eddie's skin is a blank page calling out to be written on, engraved– to be branded.
His hands are moving, fingers digging into the muscles of Eddie's back as he rakes his hands down, Eddie’s back arching away from his hands, but it just gets them even closer, the space between them leaving their want for one another unavoidable. Steve doesn't reach for what he wants to get a handful of, not yet. He hears the way Eddie exhales forcefully out of his nose, eyes slipping shut as Steve leans in even closer and allows the tip of his nose to ghost over Eddie's cheek, doesn't stop until his lips are at his ears.
Steve doesn't realize just how much of an effect this man has over him. He doesn't realize just how far gone he is all because he's in his space, finally allowed in. There's only so much his right hand and the images of tattooed arms and well calloused ringed fingers can do, and if he’s honest with himself it's been some time.
He doesn't realize it until he hears his own voice, surprised by how deep and this shy out of breath it is even to his own ears as he murmurs his guess into Eddie’s ear.
"Unless you want me to get you out of yours first?"
Being this close he's able to hear the way Eddie's breath stutters, feeling the hot exhale of his breath float across his own cheek. He leans in and they kiss, Steve using his hand on his neck to change the angle, deepening it as he reaches for the door knob.
If it takes him a few tries to successfully turn the knob he’ll blame it on the redirection of blood flow.
“Light or no light?” Steve stutterers, licking his way into Eddie’s mouth before he can respond. Eddie shoves, the door clambering shut with a bang as he leads them into it, hips first. Another pass of Steve’s tongue in his mouth and Eddie captures it, giving a tentative suck that has Steve groaning as he grabs at Eddie’s ass, fingers digging in deep enough to the plushness that he’s sure they’d be bruised if not for the layer of clothes over him.
Eddie releases his tongue, a wet uncoordinated kiss of his lips as Steve uses his hold to pace another languid press. “ Fuck , no– no light. What was that thing you said? Feel me, don’t watch me, right?”
Another roll of their hips, another moan, and Steve’s pulling away from the door.
Eddie’s hands had been in Steve’s hair but when the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed he drops them to Steve’s hips, switching their positions and he lightly pushes Steve, only pulling away from their kiss so Steve can take a seat on the edge and Eddie follows, knees on either side of his hips. Steve’s about to lay them down, his hands hot on Eddie’s thighs but Eddie breaks away.
“Steve, wait.” Eddie pulls away, eyes still shut as he presses his forehead to Steve’s and they share the same air. Steve brushes his hands up to Eddie’s hips, fingers dipping past the band of Eddie’s jeans for a second before he’s pulling them up to run a soothing pass up his spine, giving a hum of acknowledgement, taking a deep slow inhale through his nose to recenter. “Do you get tested? Like, regularly after you’ve…”
Steve nods, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Rob, she–” Steve chuckles, pulling back to look at Eddie. “–we were sharing a sundae and I accidently gave her mono, once , and she wouldn’t let me hear the end of it. I got tested regularly and I’m clear. Haven’t been with anyone since the last one.” He lifts a hand to cup Eddie’s check, thumb sweeping lightly over his bottom lip.
"Okay, good, that's good. And me too, by the way." Eddie nods, placing the tip of Steve’s thumb between his lips, looks like he’s about to talk around it but stops short. He nips the pad of it. “You get tested, that’s good. But have you…” he squints, seems to be asking something but Steve can’t read him.
“What, have I what?” He pulls his hand away, leans back with his hands on the bed at his hips, trying to give Eddie as much space to ask what he needs to, voice soft and face relaxed.
Eddie chews at the corner of his lips, hesitation filtering across his face, but only for a second, relaxing as he starts moving his hands. He places them low on Steve’s stomach, lifts the hem so he has his palms on skin, gently pushing Steve to lay back as he runs his hands up his torso, the hem bundling up his chest until Steve lifts his arms so it can be pulled off.
“So they are a whole body type deal… noted.” Eddie tosses the sweater behind him, sinking heavily against Steve’s thighs, ignoring the harsh tenting that Steve’s jeans barely allow as he runs his hands up Steve’s chest. He pulls his hands away, fingers working the clip out of his hair before he shakes out his hair. Steve has to resist the urge to sit up, to tell him how beautiful he looks like this. Doesn’t want to rush it, possibly ruin this because he has before, has a feeling he will again if he opens his mouth.
Still, he can’t help the gasp that escapes him when Eddie cups him through his jeans, Eddie's fingers squeezing as he ruts up into the pressure. He starts to work on his belt, the sound of the metal clinking loudly in the quiet room, the music and laughter of the party reverberating subtly through the walls of the room.
Once the belt is off he pops off the single button at the top and stops there. He leans over Steve, hair cascading down with his hands on either side of Steve’s head and sinking into the mattress, his smirk intoxicating, the smell of apples overwhelming.
Beautiful .
Steve asks the question before he can blurt out the affections. “What did you want to ask me?”
Eddie hums, leans down to kiss Steve once, twice before he moves, kisses the corner of his mouth and starts to work his way down Steve’s neck, fingers back to his jeans and undoing the zipper. Steve squeezes his eyes shut, chest heaving as his hands find Eddie’s face and pulls him up, fingers brushing the hairs he can capture to tuck behind his ears. “Eds, your question.”
Eddie leans in, lips ghosting over Steve’s lips. Steve stops breathing, fingers grasping at the strands in his hands. "How many guys have you been with?"
It’s now Steve’s turn to hesitate. Eyes still closed, he shakes his head, lips brushing against Eddie’s with the movement.
“Uhh, not… any?” He doesn’t know why his voice turns the statement into a question, because the answer is definitively zero, zilch, nada.
Eddie pulls away, brows knitting together in doubt. "Not even a casual handy amongst the guys? Like, ever ?"
"Munson, why the fuck would I bullshit about this?"
"I'm just asking! You were always 'the hair' but also Steve 'the straightest man to have ever' Harrington for years! You're, like, extremely into this and I just wanted to know how far, if ever, you've gotten with another guy because I have some experience and I just want to know where you’re at.”
"I haven't had the opportunity, okay, this is bumfuck Hawkins Indiana. I had no idea this was an option for me a week ago, alright, what do you want from me," Steve says around a chuckle, leaning up to press an open mouth kiss to Eddie’s lips. "But right now I'm really into you , so can you just let me into your pants?"
Eddie nods and licks his lips, but this close he ends up licking at Steve's too and Steve parts them like a man starved, rushing forward to chase after them. Eddie lets him, settling his weight until he’s flush against Steve, shifts so his thigh is pressed against Steve’s harden line, his own arousal pushing down against his hip.
When Eddie’s tongue plunges deep Steve takes the opportunity to return that good feeling, earning him a pretty moan as Eddie rolls his hip, their dicks pressing together harshly against the clothes still between them as they rut against one another, shy of too much of the wrong type of pressure yet still not enough. Steve lets go of Eddie’s hair, hands finding the hem of Eddie’s shirt, sitting up and gathering Eddie into his lap before tearing his shirt over his head, immediately reaching to lock their lips together again.
Steve works through Eddie’s belt, fingers fumbling as he pulls them away from the loops, wincing when he hears the fabric of one of the belt loops tear with the motion, but Eddie only starts to work his hands back down to Steve’s own open fly to work him out of his jeans.
He hisses, the air harsh as he’s freed, Eddie’s fingers cold against the head of his dick when he gives a loose stroke, lifting his hips when Eddie directs him to. Steve screws his eyes shut tight over the barely there touch. Eddie slips off the bed before Steve can even start to try to get them equally undressed, and Steve suddenly feels over-exposed in the low lit room as Eddie settles on his knees in between his legs.
Steve’s been here before, has had countless others (namely only women) on their knees before him but he’s never felt more exposed than he does right here with his pants around his thighs. Eddie works the rest of Steve’s jeans down, humming contently with the final pull of the cuff from around his ankle, rubbing his hands up his legs, straightening up to reach and find Steve’s lips again.
Eddie’s hands try to reach for Steve, but Steve hums into the kiss and directs Eddie to stand in front of him. Steve spreads his legs and crowds the other man close, ignoring his own needs begging for attention, batting away Eddie’s searching hands so he can focus on him. Eddie’s hands find purchase on Steve’s shoulder and the top of his head, breath catching in his throat as he gets worked out of the rest of his clothes, his own dick springing forward. Steve freezes, eyes catching on the leaking tip.
He leaves Eddie’s pants around his knees, mouth parted in awe because– can dicks be pretty ? He’s never really cared for the look of his own, wasn’t all that impressed by what he’d seen on occasion from his peripherals in the locker rooms, but looking at Eddie’s, tip glistening in the low light, the tip red and weeping because of him. Eyes surveying what he can of the tattoos that had been otherwise hidden all this time, the moonlight cascading in through the window, making Eddie’s pale skin seem like it’s glowing, the grey and black tattoos a stark contrast.
He’s so fucking pretty , Steve thinks to himself as he moves to slide the rest of Eddie’s clothes off.
“You did not just call my dick pretty.”
Steve blinks, blush creeping onto his cheeks as he looks up to find Eddie hiding behind his hair, hadn’t noticed when he’d pulled his hands away. Steve winces, goes back to slipping the fabric down the rest of Eddie’s legs. “Shit, I– I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to keep my mouth shut. Just ignore me.”
Eddie steps out of his clothes at the words, kicking frantically away at the cuffs that catch on his ankle as he pushes at Steve’s shoulders, a silent oof escaping Steve as he falls back.
“Harrington, are you a talker ?” Eddie lilts, and Steve’s heart rate is kicking back up as they slowly move towards the center of the bed. Eddie settles against him, hands going back into his hair, lips clashing against Steve’s before he can answer.
“I don’t think I’ve ever talked more trying to get laid than I have with you tonight, actually,” Steve mumbles between breaths, hands pushing so they lay on their sides. Eddie makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and Steve smirks behind another kiss, using his left hand to pillow Eddie's head while his right hand skirts between them.
“Fuck off, you know what I mean – oh . Oh god, you’re so warm, how are you so fucking warm?” Eddie’s chokes on the words, Steve’s hands finally on him, thumb sweeping over the slit to spread the slickness that’s collected on the tip.
Eddie tugs on the strands in between his fingers, a gasp racking through him as Steve's thumb rubs lightly over the head, running his fingers down where the hairs brush against his fingers, giving a gentle squeeze at the base before slowly stroking back up to the head with a loose grip.
“I could say the same, your hands are freezing." Steve murmurs, doing what he knows feels good on him and using every sound that comes from Eddie to piece together what makes him keen. Eddie's lips crash back into Steve's, right hand clutching at the back of Steve’s neck while his left hand drops to take Steve in his hand, coaxing Steve tongue back into his mouth to start sucking on it again, pacing it to the same slow moving strokes of their hands on each other, rings searingly cold against the heat of Steve's body.
Eddie pulls away if only to get the buzzing of their lips to subside. When his eyes focus he finds Steve’s chewing on his bottom lip, eyes screwed shut.
“Steve, you can talk to me,” Eddie breathes, slowing the pace of his hand, stroking the pad of his thumb along Steve’s length, hand going slack. Steve has to focus on his breathing, eyes slipping open at Eddie’s words. He shakes his head, tries to close the gap but Eddie turns his cheek so Steve can only bury his face into the crook of his neck.
“It’s just, I just start– fuck, your hand –I just start babbling, and it’s super annoying, I don’t–” Steve shudders at another pass, using his hold on Eddie’s neck to reach and latch on to start making his own marks, using the distraction to keep the words from tumbling out and stave off the budding release, his own hand resuming their languid strokes on Eddie’s dick.
Eddie hums, doesn’t say what he wants, decides next time he’ll push it. Instead he bats Steve’s hand away from him, earning him an annoyed whine and a harsh bite. He laughs, pulling his neck away from Steve’s insistent lips. He leans in, can’t help but smirk at the bitchy pout that is Steve’s mouth. Eddie shuffles closer, pressing a chaste kiss to those lips, running his tongue along the seam of Steve’s lips to deepen it.
He takes them both in one hand and Steve gasps at the new feeling, can only try to keep his breathing steady as Eddie starts to jerk them off together, his hands slowly increasing the pace with each passing moment. Steve can’t even coordinate his lips, their kiss having turned sloppy and this side of too wet, leaving them panting into each other’s open mouths.
His brain finally catches up and he’s moving his hand that isn’t in a vice grip on Eddie's shoulder, grasping at what Eddie’s hand can’t between them and starts to jerk them together, focusing on chasing the feeling that’s growing, that’s nestled deep at the base of his spine, doesn't think he's ever been this close so fast. His breath catching over a particularly tight stroke, his own hand stuttering in uncoordinated movements on Eddie’s dick– no his , theirs, together.
“Fuck, –” Steve moans, his hips rolling into their joined fists and suddenly Eddie doesn’t have to wait until next time to push it because Steve can’t stop the words he’d been trying to hold back. “Eddie, I– your hands, your rings . I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands on my dick and–” Steve shudders, he’s so close. “You’re so– oh god ."
“Keep talking.” Steve whines in protest. “ Keep talking , I don't mind,” Eddie breathes, his grip tightening. He quirks his wrists, shifting in closer so that their hands are rubbing easily against their abdomens, legs tangling together. Steve groans into the new rhythm, hand sliding past Eddie's neck to take hold of Eddie’s hair, damp with sweat, an involuntary tug earning him a satisfied groan deep in Eddie’s chest.
“And your hair–” another tug, another moan, “– god, I just wanted to get my hands in there while you– you.” Steve moves his hand that’s between them, slipping his fingers to interlock between Eddie’s, forearm burning as they continue to jerk each other, his toes curling as that pressure builds deep at the base of his spine.
“My rings, my hair, what else have you been thinkin’ ‘bout Stevie.” Eddie’s voice is clipped, rolling just as desperately into their fists. “Come on, baby, you’re so close, I’m so close .”
“Your mouth .” Steve is gasping, thinks he might actually scream. “ God, I want your mouth– my hands in your hair– you’re so fucking beautiful, Eddie I– fuck, fuck– ”
Luckily for him Steve doesn’t scream because Eddie’s lips are on his again, their hands no longer on each other. Steve grabs at Eddie’s hip, pushing Eddie onto his back as he rolls his hips, their dicks trapped and sliding smoothly together between their sweat slicked abdomens. He presses forward once, twice, and Steve’s seeing white, feels static, fingers tugging the fist full of hair in one hand, his other grabbing at Eddie’s waist. Eddie’s back arches to press against him as Steve paints the space between them in his release.
Steve’s hips start to stutter and Eddie is swallowing Steve’s cries as he continues to roll their hips together. Steve shivers through another wave, face crumpling in pleasure as he continues to work himself through until it's falling into too much , his grip on Eddie going slack, but not before he reaches a hand down to take Eddie’s length in his, moaning obscenely at the weight of it in his hands.
“My mouth, god, but your mouth." Eddie thinks he might die. Another gasp from Steve, a few tugs, and it’s enough to send Eddie over after him, adding to the mess between as Steve’s moans continue to play in his ears, the room quiet except for their heavy breathing and the sound of Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy blaring from downstairs.
After a minute Eddie tries to gently roll out from underneath but Steve's arms are suddenly snaking their way around his middle, holding him close and Eddie chuckles, nosing along the sweat damp edge of Steve’s hair.
“This is about to feel real gross in, like, two minutes but I think I just shot my brain out of my dick. We can clean up in a bit, let me just…” Steve sighs, doesn’t finish, just sinks deeper against Eddie, hooking one of his ankles around Eddie’s and waits for the ringing in his ears and the racing of his heart to subside.
Eddie relaxes into the mattress, fingers tracing absentmindedly along Steve’s spine, the fingers of his other hand drumming along to the song that’s playing downstairs. Eddie is the first to break the silence.
“So… Steve Harrington is both a talker and a post-coitional cuddler. Noted .”
“The fuck is coitional ,” Steve mutters as he pinches at his waist, earning him a yelp which gets them laughing as he starts rolling away to sit at the edge of the bed. Without looking behind him Steve reaches for Eddie’s ankle, giving it a slight tug. “Shower with me?”
Eddie hums in consideration, moving to crawl up behind Steve and pressing a kiss behind his ear, chin resting on his shoulder for a moment before he arms are falling heavy around Steve’s shoulders. “Mmm. Depends.”
Steve turns his head, eyebrows knitting in curiosity as he tangles their fingers together, bringing the back of Eddie’s hand to press a kiss there. “On?”
“Do you think you can get it up again so I can suck you off?”
part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10
A few days have passed only since he got back into Heaven, but he couldn't help but notice a small signal coming from the Earth globe. From a place he knew all too well.
He thought "you can handle it", after all he didn't even begin to see through how much he can do to change the place.
After more days, his duties started to pile up on him, seemingly without end. Yet, he wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or not.
His training began slowly too, he realised giving out orders as strictly as archangels have to wasn't his strength.
The little signal was still flashing before him, everytime he went past it. It started to feel familiar. Like a constant, that he was still around and bothering to bother him.
He wanted to check it out sooner or later, but the kiss was still so recent, he didn't know if he had the strength to face him already. He sometimes tried to think what could be the problem, and how he left could have felt to Crowley. But, he was a demon, surely it can't be too bad, right? When he fell he was casted down to forever crave a light that he cannot found, like every other individual. Must have been an awful feeling to have it just ripped out of you, Aziraphale thought. But he seemed to be doing alright, everytime they met, he was being his usual self, saving children and animals from God's wrath. Crowley was happy when he saw him. He never really got to know what he was like when he wasn't around, now that he thinks about it.
Having a small check on him through the globe couldn't hurt, he thought as he was approaching the globe, but before he could see anything Michael and the other archangels showed up to drag him away with news that needed to be disgussed. Nothing about the little signal though.
A new week has passed and now Aziraphale was truly on edge, he didn't care about that damn kiss anymore he just wanted to see what's wrong with his friend, everything he has done so far upstairs was either accepted or declined, but never a normal argument about the reasons. With all the human knowledge he had earned while being on Earth, angels didn't always made sense to him, it was like they were lacking something, maybe not morality, or maybe it was that afterall. Teaching them sometimes was in vain.
Muriel soon decided to go up too and visit the angel, it was fun to observe him.
- Mr. Fell! Oh you, changed?
- Muriel, my dear! How are things? It's good to see you, but why are you here? Oh, yes, I've been promoted. I'm with the archangels now, and I can assure you, everything will be better this time!
- Oh, Mr. Fell, you're very nice, but this is Heaven! It's always been good here.
- But dear, what about your bosses being mean to you?
- Well, it's hard, but I must have earned that, certainly. Not a problem, I'm always improving! I hope...
- Ah, dear...
- Is something wrong, Mr. Fell?
- You know, using 'mister' here, doesn't have any meaning, so it's useless. Just call me Aziraphale.
- Oh, alright. Sorry Mr. Fell... Oh! Azira Phale.
- ... Ah, just... I promised that I would make this place better.
- I'm sure you're doing a good job!
- No, no, dear. It needs to be so good that even a demon would want to join back!
- But... They do?
- No, they don't, Muriel-
- This used to be every demon's home too. They are always looking for the light, of which we have plenty. Down there... it must be the opposite.
- No, it's...
- Aziraphale. You want to change this place to be a common ground?
- No! Of course not! I just thought that, I could tempt others to want to join back!
- Tempt? Don't be silly Mr. Fell! You're an angel you can't tempt people. Whatever you do.
- But-... Then him-
- Is it about the grumpy demon?
- He's not grumpy, he just doesn't trust most.
- Well, he was to me. He never pays attention unless I'm saying something important. He might be nice sometimes, but it feels more like he's doing it for someone else.
- ...Erm.
This hit Aziraphale unexpectingly. He just thought he was being good because he still had something in him from Heaven, and he was truly just mistreated.
- Something's wrong?
- It was... all because of me?
- What do you mean? He's a demon, it's only normal for him to be cold. Was he... nice to you before?
- I-... I'm sorry Muriel, I can't, I can't... Where's Crowley?
He turned away to get to the globe, but Muriel followed him.
- Oh, yes, I passed by him.
He stopped in his steps to turn sharply.
- You did? Did he say something?
- Well, He rather passed by Me. He's constantly in or around your bookshop lately. He never says a thing, but he forbid me to say anything to him too. I just hang around sometimes, it feels more like it's his bookshop now, not mine. Always yelling if I try to change something.
Aziraphale could feel his heart throb in his throat, sadness squezing it tight enough just to fit.
- That's also why I'm here, I wanted to ask if I can have a seperate embassy?
- Of-...I'll rathe-... We'll talk about it later, alright?
He continued to hurry towards the globe, Muriel had no more news to tell him but still went along.
Suddenly, a blue alert just went off which only urged him more. At the globe Michael and the others were already there, looking into the alert.
- Aziraphale, you chose to look out for this Earth globe alone, did you have to let it go to an alerting state?
Michael's voice was demanding, but she visibly wasn't not upset.
- Sorry, I was just about to get to it.
- At least this doesn't have an alarm noise. Yet. I'll let you choose it, later. Now we need to see to the problem. Aziraphale, send someone down to solve whatever it is!
Saraquel was already zooming in.
- Familiar place, isn't it Aziraphale?
- It's...
- Looks like rain didn't stop falling for a suspicous amount of time by now. The streets are full of water. Like rivers.
- That... It shouldn't be that much, not even in England. Can you, ah, let me zoom out.
As he got to it, he saw Crowley on top of his shop's rooftop. Just sitting, drenched in rainwater, not bothering to go for cover.
Aziraphale miracled a standing umbrella to cover him. Stylish as ever.
- I'm going down myself. I doubt there's anybody else that can solve this.
- Oh, I'm sure there is, Muriel for example!
Michael continued the speech, and Muriel came forth to spoke shortly.
- He doesn't want to listen to me, if I talk he yells and goes away.
- It really must be me.
- ...Fine.
- I'll be off then.
- Just a minute - Saraquel stopped him - I know that fallen angel from before. If this is happening because he's upset, your simple visit won't fix this problem you two seem to have.
Michael continued.
- Well, if that is correct, you need to choose. I can't afford missing an archangel, when there's so much to be done. You either stay here, or you fix this problem, and loose your status. No need for a memory erasure I think. You haven't done anything much yet that could be remembered.
Aziraphale didn't know what to say, he was working so hard every day, every hour, missed out on everything he loved, for nothing.
- I guess guarding fits you better anyways.
- ...Yes... Yes, I'd like that... Thank you... for the opportunity.
He touched the globe, and appeared up on the rooftop as soon as he vanished from up there. He looked around quietly, nobody seemed to be outside, the doors and windows that the water had reached were sealed shut, airtight. Still he could see movements inside the houses. Then he noticed the rain falling onto his head. He was sure there was an umbrella. He turned to look, and there it was, lying on the roof in pieces, broken by the metal pipe. He reached his wings out to guard Crowley from the rain, to which he looked up.
They stayed like that in silence for a few minutes, until Crowley looked back down and Aziraphale spoke.
- I... I gave up my post... I chose you.
- ...
- Crowley, please tell me what's going on, what's with the rain? You can't redo The flod, God promised us there won't be another!
- …I'm not killing anyone, now am I? ...Put your wings away from me, angel - he said softly, but he was not at all calm, it was sad to hear it too - since you don't want to fall in love with me.
- Crowley, that's-...absurd!
- Just let me cry myself out in peace.
- Are…these… are your tears?
- … I thought, all This… was worth something to you… You were always so fond of eating, and reading books, that humans made… But, almost at a snap of a finger, you gave it all up…!
His words were setting in, he let the rain fall on him, he let the tears of a fallen archangel ruin his looks, along with his own. It felt like the only right way to show regret physically too, to let himself be run down by their heavy, cold weights.
- It made me wonder, if your own things didn't mean anything to you… what did I ever worth to you?
- Crowley, I was doing this for you, so you could join me up in Heaven, without anyone trying to part us! We wouldn't have to worry for each other!
Aziraphale was trying to prove his point like he was saying it to a stubborn cherub, but instead of understanding, he heard laughter that only made him feel small.
- You, idiot! I thought you learnt something from humans! All those years and romance novels, You should know better! And Heaven! It's the place that forbids us from doing anything! From thinking anything! It's not your cozy, little home, it's your workplace for hell's sake! You can't bring me up there, after everything they did to me, and to you! You can't. Keep. Forgiving them!
- It's my job to-
- Papapapa! I'm not done yet! Secondly. Do you really think, that just because we're in Heaven, we wouldn't have to worry? Do you not remember how easily I fell the first time?! We can fall for any reason for doing something we didn't know was wrong! That pain, once was enough for me… Being in love means that you worry for the other's safety… Doesn't matter where they are, or what they've done. When you mentioned your possible fall, fearful because you lied to the others, I no longer wanted to get you to join hell's side. And I thought that was mutual. That you wouldn't want me to rejoin Heaven, and gave up all I've become. All I've grown. I-... I thought that, if I don't want to hurt you, you wouldn't either… we could have run off together, into our safe space. Just us. No orders, no jobs, no annoying colleagues and heavenly trauma… Did you have fun up there? Until I ruined it for you?
- Crowley, please! You didn't ruin it for me!
- Shame.
- I was coming down here anyways! They never let me!
- …This is why archangels are made, not promoted. You leave when you want to. Done.
- …I didn't… Nobody told me…!
- Of course they didn't.
- I… I had enough. I changed nothing, I never could make Heaven a perfect place for you, I have done nothing revolutionary, not even a simple change, I didn't even need a memory erasure of all the achievements I got, yet I worked every second! Everything was in vain, and I missed out on my only friend-...!
He was starting to cry too, but the rain rather started to soften. His tears only ran down on his face.
- I'm sorry, Crowley! I was an idiot! Please, just, look at me! I don't care where we are, for how long, just let me be with you! I thought we could be in the human's Heaven, of course I gave up my own things for us to be there!
- …Angel. You left me here, hanging. With a replacement. You cried when I finally opened up to you. When I tried to show you This is the human's Heaven. I thought you wanted it.
- I-... I do! - he gave out in tears - I just thought our first time should be the most romantical in existence, so that you'd finally fall in love with me thanks to it! I planned that dance for that moment so we can-... But you just kissed me out of nowhere, like it didn't mean anything to you, just something to tempt me with!
- Angel, I wasn't trying to tempt you, I was trying to prove my point! Why can't you trust me that I did that out of love?! I've fallen for you the first time we met!
- In Eden?
- No! In Heaven. Angel with the red, curly hair. Creating stars. You held my blueprint, and I covered you from the raining stars!
- But I… I thought you didn't even like me back then. You didn't even tell me your name!
Crowley was finally showing some emotions besides sadness, which was rather anger-ish with sarcasm as he reached out his hand as a gesture.
- Hi, Raphael Archangel, nice to meet your wings that you're covering yourself with!
- A-...
Some thunder and lightning has joined the rainstorm.
- If I'm a demon, at least we can be equals. Not care about our stupid ranks.
- So, you do love me?
- You never could feel it? You always told me when you felt love nearby!
- I, I wanted to be respectful by leaving that for you to tell me, when you want.
- See that's my problem with words. That's why I stopped doing it. How can I know what you're saying is true? That you're not lying, and I am not just a friend to you, that you can use!
- Crowley… I didn't mean you to feel like that! It's just that, you always loved saving me.
- No, I loved to be there for you, when you needed help. To protect you, because those were the times I could hope that I proved to you. But it seems like I didn't.
- N-no…Ha-h…But… You're a demon! Why wouldn't you lie to me?! Again?
- …See. It! You can sense love, so do it. With me. Too!
He said still in anger, tired of this game going back and forth. He gathered himself up emotionally, and laid back with giving out a sigh.
- Fine…
The raindrops were still falling on their heads, still softly but ready to go back to pouring at any time.
Aziraphale anxiously moved his hands to make an ethereal sign, squeezing his eyelids together, when something shone at him, and he opened his eyes.
He could feel his hurt, his feeling of being lost and tired, his want of a cozy home, someone to care for, to count on, his love like veins, wounded, but still bleeding out to him and him only. Wishes and made up scenes along with memories, like videos were pouring out of him. It was all like a huge gallery. Some very old, some very new, as if he never forgot any of them. In one Crowley was showing off his skills as an angel, and he was getting praises back from Aziraphale. In another, Crowley has learnt how to cook for him, and every meal was said to be perfect, but it was quickly interrupted by Crowley's self doubts about his cooking skills. There were all kinds of scenes from Rome, some he didn't dare to look through. But some caught his interest from later. In one they were in the Ritz, soft classical music playing, saying their toast to the world, it was like a memory, but not really, there were no people, just them, when it suddenly continued differently. Crowley said I love you to him. Since then, the music seemed to stay with him as he looked through the others. In one they were sitting in their couches, drunkenly blabbering from alcohol, talking about Armageddon, and fish soup. It made him laugh. When Aziraphale tried to help him with phrasing, Crowley went to kiss him on his lips, holding onto the angel's knees, and he welcomed it on the visuals. Then there were those scenes where he protected him from demons, angels, even from Gabriel. Always standing in front of danger just to hide Aziraphale from it.
The angel felt something, it was so deep love he barely could get enough of it. On another file, it was after stopping the Armageddon, Crowley could move into the bookshop, but he looked tired. Aziraphale covered him in warm blankets, and pulled him close to read to him as he fell asleep. He thought he'd seen the sweetest one yet, but then he found one a bit more guarded. A bit farther away from the others, it was… surprising. Sounds of children could be heard from it as he approached. Finally playing before him, he saw a window on a cottage, that led inside to reveal the two of them, looking at photos of children from a photo album, there was one who had not even opened their eyes yet, later on another one was learning to walk, he could see Crowley's feet and his hands, holding the cherub up. Then there was one about learning to talk, they spoke their first words and they celebrated. Aziraphale thought they all looked so lovely, so human, so domestic, he never imagined him like this…well, maybe once or twice.
Now Crowley's voice could be heard from the hallway, which was rather playful. He ran before the window on the inside. Then caught someone up in the air.
- Ooh no, no, no, you can't go out like that! What did I teach ya?
- That Scotland should be a free kingdom?
- …Aww. Beside that. You can't go out without anyone keeping an eye on you! At least try to sneak outside together with your siblings! Teamwork makes the dream work. Plus I can find a flock easier…
- But I don't want to be with the others!
- Hey, Aziraphale! This little cherub has free will! Have you heard of that?!
- Noo, don't tell dad!
Aziraphale's eyes were never so focused on a visual more than on this one before. He could feel his heart fill up with love.
- The door is open, dear. I can hear you. Keep your voice down, before you wake your siblings up - said Aziraphale from the video, and the real one looking at it was tearing up - or your papa will have to spend his whole week trying to get nine other cherubs to sleep.
- Nine?! - Aziraphale yelled out from surprise.
Crowley looked down at the tenth in his hands, he whispered.
- Pleasse. You love your papa, right? I'll get you chocolate!
- …
- In secret!
- Okay!
Aziraphale now was trying to see the full video if there was anything to how they could or how they would get nine cherubs. But there was nothing. They only seemed to be about them, alone together in peace, or with the already born children. As he was pacing through he recognised a pattern. Most of them were about just holding hands. In fear, in happiness, in sadness, in love, in anger. They never parted.
Guilt was creeping up on him. He decided it was time to get back to the real Crowley, who was here today.
Rain was rarely dropping down by now, he seemed to have enough of the tears.
He didn't have enough strength to look at the angel's expression yet. So he stayed down, lying.
- You're back? …Seen anything worthwhile?
Aziraphale scooched over to him in silence, then pulled Crowley up by his hand to take him into a kiss. Surprising the demon, the last drops of rain had hit the Earth, and real tears were rolling down his cheeks now.
He didn't dare to think that Aziraphale truly loved him back before, but now, this felt so much more different, so much better. They hugged each other close, with sureness, finally putting Crowley's mind at ease. Aziraphale opened his mouth to which Crowley did so too almost automatically. His heart's beating so fast but felt so right than never before. Aziraphale tried to only barely break their kiss while he talked hurriedly.
- I want… all ten - he said with a joyful cry tone.
- Ngk!
- I love you too… oh, you domestic demon!
Meanwhile in Heaven, only Saraquel was left at the globe and so she panned out of its ex-alert, with proudness on her face.
- You told me you would get that angel, Raphael. I'm glad you finally did, old warrior.
Hi! Way back when in your disability pride month post you mentioned you hc Logan w/ some depression and Finn with adhd. I'm adhd, and sometimes it causes issues with my friends with depression, when I am just SO much and they really can't handle so much. I was wondering if you'd write a fic about something along those lines and maybe leo just in the middle? And/or how they solve it (i.e, finn going for a run to get out energy or smth) i LOVED your logan h/c leo's depression and would love more!
Yes! Okay so disclaimer, this is based of my experiences with things similar to what anon is talking about.
Also, does this feature some Logan / Sirius bro-lationship because do I have another ask I’m working on about that? Maybe. Maybe. (Who am I kidding, definitely yes lol.)
I’m sorry this took soooo long to get out, but it’s long (like, over 2,700 words) and took a lot of time and energy and I haven’t had the energy or people points to deal with things lately. But finally, it is finished. (You may ask yourself, what are people points? Well, read on to learn what I mean lol. It's a real thing my friends and I use to express how we're feeling.)
Credit, as always, to the amazing @lumosinlove who created this universe and let's us play around with it!
CW for depression and anxiety references
Finn woke up very excited. He was so hyper; he could barely contain himself. He was practically vibrating with excitement for the day. He had been feeling a little cooped up the last few days, having a lazy weekend with his boys, watching movies on the couch. Today he was finally able to let out some of that pent up energy playing tennis with Kasey and Nat, who had only agreed to go last night when Leo suggested it after the whole day of Finn not being able to sit still for a single movie scene.
Finn sat up in bed, pulling his phone from the nightstand to check the time a shoot a quick text to Kasey to confirm that they were up and would be ready to meet at the courts in an hour.
He heard Leo start to rustle on the other side of their still sleeping boyfriend and thought it odd that Logan, ever the light sleeper, hadn’t moved yet. He reached down to grab his shoulder and shake him awake not exactly gently, being a little too excited for the day ahead.
Logan only groaned and roughly shifted away from the touch, pulling a pillow over his head.
Finn shot a questioning look over to Leo, who just shook his head and whispered, “Let him sleep in. He hasn’t been doing well the last few days, he probably just needs some rest.”
“Then who’s gonna help me beat Kase and Nat in doubles? You already had plans to help Celeste bake for Katie’s bake sale.” Finn pouted.
“Y’all’ll just have to play singles and switch out, I’m sure they won’t mind. Come on, lets get some coffee brewing.”
***
Leo, having already seen one boyfriend off to the gym, crawled back into bed and pulled the other into his bare chest.
Logan only sighed, snuggling closer into the warmth.
Leo soothed a hand through Logan’s hair, whispering, “I have to get ready to head over and help Celeste, are you gonna be alright by yourself today?”
Logan hesitated for a moment before nodding against Leo’s chest.
“Is it a bad one today?” Leo asked softly.
Logan took a shaky, deep breath and started to silently cry, nodding again. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry. It happens, alright? You’re alright darlin’. These last few days were hard, I know, and it’s okay. Do you want me to stay with you?”
Logan hesitated again before shaking his head. “Go. I think I’ll try to sleep it off a bit.”
Leo sighed, knowing that what Logan wanted was to be left alone for a bit. “Okay, but if you need anything… or me… just text, ‘kay? Just let me know what we can do.”
Leo sat there a few minutes, letting Logan settle down before getting up to head to the Dumias’.
When he got there, he let himself in and saw Sirius helping to wrangle the kids and keep them occupied playing ‘go fish’ while Celeste got the kitchen set up.
“Cap, hey, didn’t think you’d be here.” Leo let out a surprised chuckle.
“Just swung by for a visit while Re had to do some work at the rink.”
“Ah.” Leo continued to make his way to the kitchen, but then stopped and turned back to Sirius. “Hey. Um, could I have a word with you quick?”
“Oui, of course.” Sirius said, setting his hand full of cards and walking over. Right before he reached Leo, he turned around, “And no peeking at my cards!” He called back to the kids, who only giggled. “What’s up rookie? Am I in trouble?”
“No, no, of course no.” Leo let out a nervous laugh. “It’s just.” He sighed. “Lo. He’s… been having a rough go of it and… I don’t know. He stayed home today, and I know he won’t talk to me about what’s going on. I… you’re like a brother to him. He respects your opinion. Not that he doesn’t respect ours, it’s just…”
“Different?”
“Yeah. I… it’s been getting bad again. I think he should go see Heather, but he never wants to talk about it with us and… Could you talk to him maybe? I just…”
“Of course. Yeah, I wondered what was up when he missed team dinner Friday. I get it’s the off season and rest and all but, he never misses, unless he really not doing good, you know?” Sirius let out a heavy breath. “I mean, I’ve been there and… it sucks. I want to help him. Whatever I can. Just tell me.”
“You should say that to him, I’m sure he could use the support right now. This weekend… Finn was just bouncing off the walls, I don’t think he sat still long enough to really notice it. And then they were supposed to go play tennis today but- Lo really wasn’t up to it. He’s home, wanted some space. And I get that, I just wish… he’d, I don’t know. I don’t know.” Leo started to get a little choked up.
“Hey.” Sirius said, pulling him into a hug. “It’s okay. He’s hurting and that hurts. You can feel upset about it too.”
“But he’s the one…”
“Hey, non, don’t go down that rabbit hole. You can feel what you want without having to feel guilty about it. You support him the best you can and that takes a toll on you too.” Sirius said, holding Leo at arm’s length. “I mean… I know I’ve put Re through the ringer a few times trying to get me to calm down when the world starts to spiral. And he still has his days too when the world is too much handle and getting up is too much energy. But we get through it together. It’ll be okay, Knutty. I promise.”
Leo sniffled and ran a sleeve across his eyes. “Yeah. Thanks, Cap. You’ll talk to him?”
“Yes. I’ll give him a few hours to rest then shoot him a text and see what he’s up to, ouais? Now, Celeste had more ingredients than should be in one household, better go help her bake up a storm.” Sirius said, giving him a pat on the shoulder and a gentle nudge towards the kitchen.
***
Logan knew from the moment he woke up that it was going to be a rough day for him. He sat up slow, still groggy, and looked over at the clock. 11:47 am. Almost noon. He looked around the room to take in his surroundings. He vaguely remembers Finn trying to get him up this morning, excited to go out and play some tennis today. He remembers being grumpy and Leo saying something about letting him rest. Then Leo coming back, acknowledging that it was a bad day, and letting Logan cry before leaving him on his own for a bit.
He pushed the covers aside and planted his feet on the ground, getting up to walk to the bathroom. It felt like everything was in slow motion. He made his way to the kitchen, the apartment unusually silent. He stopped at the counter and stared at the coffee pot for he wasn’t sure how long before two long arms wrapped around his waist slowly. He blinked back to reality and realized Leo was behind him, talking.
“Lo? Logan? Hey, you in there?” He sounded worried, tossing his keys on the counter.
Logan turned around in Leo’s arms and brought his hands up to rest on the younger boy’s chest. “Quoi? Oui. Désolé.” The world still seemed to be moving too slow and muffled. He hadn’t even heard Leo enter their apartment just now. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt like there was cotton in his ears, and all his thoughts being drowned about by a dull ringing. “I…” Logan’s words died in his mouth. He didn’t know what was going on or what was wrong beyond the fact the something was wrong. Tears started to well in his eyes.
Leo gave a sad sigh and pulled the shorter boy into his chest, one hand on the back of Logan’s neck, the other rubbing soothingly up and down his broad, bare back. They stood there for several long minutes as Logan sobbed silently into his chest.
After Logan’s tears tapered to a stop, he held Leo close and whispered, voice a bit rough, “I though you were helping bake?”
“I hadn’t heard anything, so I came by to check and see how you were doing. Drink any water?”
“Haven’t had anything.” Logan mumbled into the taller man’s chest, shivering in the cool apartment in only a pair of shorts.
Leo held him close. “How about I make some peppermint tea? Yeah?”
“You should get back.”
Leo sighed, noting Logan’s subtle attempt to hint that he just wanted to be left alone, though the physical comfort he seemed to seek begged to differ.
“I have time to make you a cup, then I’ll get back. Is that okay?” Leo asked softly, running a hand up and down the shorter man’s back.
“Oui.” Logan grumbled, pulling away from Leo in favor of curling up on the couch with the blanket they kept there.
A few long and silent minutes passed before Leo handed him a warm mug, placing a soft kiss to his head before saying something Logan couldn’t focus enough to hear. He just curled around the warmth of the mug and watched Leo go.
Logan wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he had only taken a few sips of tea and now it was cold. He set it on the coffee table and made his way into the bedroom, picking up his phone and seeing a text from Sirius.
Hey, missed you at dinner the other night. Everything okay?
I yeah just wasn’t feeling it ig
Fair. Anything I can do to help?
Are you busy rn? No worries if not
I’ll be there in 20. Never too busy for you Tremz <3
Thanks cap
***
“Hey Leo?” Sirius said, walking into the kitchen. “I just got a text from Tremz, I’m gonna head over, d’accord? I’ll let you know how it goes.”
Leo gave a sad smile. “Okay. Thank you.”
And with that, Sirius headed out the door and made his way across town to the cub’s apartment.
When he got there, he let himself in and toed off his shoes. He found Logan curled up on the couch, nearly asleep under a comforter that Sirius knew had been dragged out of their bedroom. Logan seemed to not even notice him until he sat cross legged on the floor in front of him.
“Hey, Tremz. What can I do?”
Logan’s only response was to sniffle and pull the oversize blanket tighter around himself.
“Hey,” Sirius cooed as he got up to settle on the couch next to Logan, wrapping him up in a hug, “C’est bon. It’s okay. Shh.” He pulled the shorted man’s head to his chest.
“But-” Logan hiccupped, “I ditched him. We- we were supposed to play tennis, bu- but I just couldn’t.”
“It’s okay, Finn will understand. I’m sure he understands.”
“But I- I did it last week too. An- And Kasey and Natalie, we were all supposed to-”
“Logan,” Sirius said more sternly, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes, “I’m sure they understand, it happens. If they don’t, they’ll get over it. You have to take care of you, and if you don’t have the energy, or people points, to do things, that’s okay.”
“People points?” Logan hiccupped again.
“Oui. Like, some days you can have lots of people points to use up by being social? And some people take more people points because they can be a lot to be around, which isn’t a bad thing. Like… I love Finn, yeah? But he’s got a lot of energy sometimes and talks a mile a minute, and sometimes I can’t keep up. And some days, I just don’t have people points to use up, or I have only a few. For me, Re doesn’t take a lot of my people points to be around, and when he knows I’m having a bad day, we just snuggle up to a movie, or, I don’t know, we just sit in companionable silence? We just don’t do socially exhausting things. And Dumo, he’s good at seeing when I’m just out of points, and he’s easy to be around, even when Re is too much. And he understands. Your boys will understand too.”
Logan had pulled away to sit back and had been nodding along slowly, staring down at the floor, deep in thought. “D’accord. That… makes sense, I guess. I just… I feel like I’m low on people points all the time lately.” He sniffled quietly.
“That’s okay. You just need to get some rest and… I’m gonna say this and don’t get upset, but I think you should start seeing Heather more regularly.”
“I- yeah.” He sighed out. “Why would I get upset when you’re right? I… I saw her a few times, but then I was fine, so I thought- I don’t know, that I didn’t need to see her anymore or waste her time.”
“Tremz, there doesn’t have to be anything wrong to see her, and it’s not a waste of time. Not if it helps keep you in a good place. And- And sometimes it’s not enough. To keep you good, and that’s okay. I…” Sirius let out a long exhale, steadying himself for what he was about to admit next. “For a while, when I was still living with Dumo, nothing helped. And even after I was with Re, I… My childhood sucked, yeah? And I had a lot of nightmares because of it. Still do once in a while, but it’s not- just not as much? I… So I went on medication for it. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s helped. A lot.”
“I- I didn’t know that. That you took medication for, well, anything.”
“Yeah… I don’t really like talking about it. Not because I’m embarrassed or anything, but because it’s my business. And Re’s too. And Dumo knows, but only because he had suggested I bring it up with Heather in the first place. I also have high blood pressure I take medication for, but I think that’s all the stress of the job.” Sirius joked, giving a small chuckle, trying to lighten the conversation a bit.
“I- Thank you. For sharing that. I never really considered that as an option. Finn and Leo might have something to say abo-”
“It is an option if you want it to be. And the decision isn’t Leo and Finn’s to make. It’s yours. You don’t have to bring it up to them if you don’t want, but I think you should tell them what your thinking. Just don’t let them make the decision for you. It’s up to you.”
Logan nodded. He moved to pick up his mug from the table but retracted his hand when he realized it was cold and gave a sad sigh.
“You want fresh tea?” Sirius asked, gesturing to the mug.
“No, it’s okay.” He said quietly.
“Is it? I’ll ask again, would you like a warm cup of…” Sirius trailed off as he leaned forward to snag the mug off the coffee table and give it a sniff. He laughed to himself, “… of course, peppermint tea?”
“I mean, kinda, but I don’t want to get up so-”
“I’ll be back.” Sirius said, taking the mug into the kitchen to dump it out and make a new one.
“Sirius-”
“Ah ah ah, nope. I’m doing this for you, just sit tight.”
A few moments later, Sirius returned, pressing a warm mug into Logan’s hands, tea bag still steeping.
Logan whispered a soft, “Thank you” and took a small sip, huddling himself around the warmth as Sirius settled next to him, shoulder to shoulder.
“Is there anything else I can do? Leave? Stay?” Sirius asked softly.
I just finished “Two for One”. First things first, I absolutely love it. Second, I can’t help imagine a certain scenario.
Imagine after sex, all three of them decide to order pizza and watch a movie. At some point, while (y/n) is in the bathroom. The doorbell rings, great the pizza is here. Spencer (in a pair of boxer and t-shirt) goes to the door to answer it. Expecting the pizza man, he was shock to see that is wasn’t the pizza guy but rather Penelope and Derek. Spencer makes sure that the door is opened as small as possible, he doesn’t want them to see Chelsea (who still happens to be in her underwear). Apparently, there is a case and Spencer hadn’t been answering their calls so they wanted to pick him up. Spencer tells them that he’ll be ready in 10 minutes in the mean time they can wait downstairs in the car. Penelope insists that before she goes, she wants to say hi to (y/n). Due to Spencer’s spaghetti arm, Penelope manage to barge in. To Penelope’s surprise the girl on the couch wasn’t (y/n) but some random girl in her underwear.
Just as (y/n) was washing her hand she heard “CHEATER!!!” being shouted from the living room. Rushing to the living room, she was greeted to the sight of Penelope chasing Spencer while screaming: you scumbag how dare you cheat on the most sweetest person in the world. Spencer trying to reassure Penelope that is wasn’t what it looked like. Derek chasing Penelope trying to calm her down and to be her voice of reason. Chelsea was draped in the blanket that usually is left on the couch. Judging by her facial expression, she also found this scenario funny cause she looked like she was trying to hold on her laugh. Could you blame her, the scene looked like something out of looney tunes.
Before Penelope could cut Spencer’s dick, (y/n) had let out a small cough to make her presence known. The chase had stop and everyone had their eyes turned to her. After a few seconds, Penelope and Derek connected the dots. It was not Spencer + random girl = cheating. They realized that it was Spencer + y/n + random girl = threesome. “We’ll wait downstairs”
Also knowing Penelope, the rest of the Bau would probably know about it soon.
This was better than the actual fic itself like i seriously need you to write this out as the aftermath. I would be honoured and immensely excited to read this fully-fledged out!
Like can you imagine when Spencer goes into the office? Everyone would be staring at him trying to hide their astonishment at the story Penelope told them. Innocent lil baby Spencer having a threesome? They would have never even bet a penny on that.
The kicker would be how proud Derek would look. He looks as if he's about to shed a thug tear over the fact the Spencer he knew from 2005 couldn't even talk to one girl and now years later he had two in his apartment. It's just too much for him to even comprehend, but he's such a proud big brother.
Ever since Todd became Neil's comfort during that rainy day, it became apparent that all rainy days would need to be spent with him.
One of those days, when the boys were all hanging around the rec-room, chattering up whatever nonsensical allegory Charlie had to spew while he played his bongos-- they heard a low rumble in the background. Todd looked over at Neil, seeing his grin begin to fade.
"So there I was, on my back--" Charlie was cut off by a loud thunderclap, making everyone yelp. ".....Guess the rain isn't really fond of my story, huh?"
Neil faked a laugh, just a single huff from his nose. And it was enough to make Todd know it was one of those days.
Todd walks over to Neil, tapping his shoulder. "Neil, I forgot something in our room, I'll be back-"
"I'll go with you." Neil says, like Todd said a code word to him. "Charlie, Todd and I will just take a rest alright? You continue your story."
Charlie waves at them and continued his story. Knox and the others still huddled around him, Cameron was wishing he had went with Neil and Todd but decided to just hear where Charlie's dumb story was headed.
When Neil and Todd entered their room, the rain had gotten louder and the rumbles of thunder echoed throughout the dorm. Neil shuts the door before making his way over to their spot.
It was once Neil's spot, the nest he made for himself during rainy days, curled up by the corner of his bed that was turned away from the window. But now it had become his and Todd's spot for reasons such as now-- the howling winds and the raging thunderstorm outside.
Neil took off his shoes, climbed onto his bed, unfolding his green blanket to place it over his shoulder. He left a bit of the blanket longer so that Todd would join him in it. Todd, still getting used to being Neil's cuddle-weather-buddy, willfully obliged. He took off his shoes, got his own blanket for extra warmth and joined Neil inside his green blanket.
They don't do much when they were like this, just Neil hugging Todd (seemingly for dear life) and a few distracting conversations. A lot of times, Neil likes to ask Todd questions, like what he did before he came to Welton, what he did during rainy days, or what were his favorite seasons aside from this one.
Todd told him of the times he wasn't in boarding school. When classes would suspend and he could stay in his room all day. He told him of the books he read when he would pass the time during the cold weather. Todd admittedly prefers Winter because it had the biggest excuse to stay indoors.
"I'm glad you like staying indoors." Neil said, still clinging onto Todd.
"Yeah? How come?" Todd was warm, and he wasn't sure if it was because of his normal body temperature or if it was because Neil is nuzzling him.
"Because if you were the type to go out and make puddles, or the type to stay downstairs with the others, I wouldn't be able to do this right now." Neil tightens his hug on Todd, burying his head on Todd's shoulder even more. His long legs were over Todd's lap, messily entangled with Todd's legs. Todd wasn't sure how to react to how touchy Neil was being but it felt nice.
"Don't worry, I promise I'll be here for you whenever it rains, I've got nowhere else to go." Todd said as he hugged Neil back, now facing him slightly. This weird position made them sink down into the bed, no longer sitting up by the bed frame. Neither of them did anything about it and just continued to stay in each other's arms.
Another crackle of thunder emerged outside their window, causing both of them to flinch. Todd wrapped his left arm around Neil to compensate for their posture.
Despite Neil being the taller guy between the two of them, he let his head rest on Todd's chest once more. He wanted to be engulfed in just Todd's presence and forget about the storm. His voice, his scent, his warmth, and the sound of his heart beat going faster. He just wanted to focus on Todd.
It was all good on his senses, the way Todd's scent masked the smell of rain, how Todd's voice and heart beat tuned out the raging winds outside, how just by being hugged by Todd made him feel warm and safe. But it wasn't enough. He wanted everything about Todd to distract him but because of how much stronger the storm was getting, small talk and and awkward hugs weren't enough to suffice. The hugs were the best part, actually, Todd's arms around him, petting his hair gently, are what he looked forward to most. So Neil theorized, in the purest of logic, that he needs more physical distractions from Todd.
Neil wasn't sure how to test out his theory out. There couldn't be a friendly way to ask your roommate for something more than a hug. Just when he was about to resign this thoughts, the power went out. Their once lit room was now pitch black, a few muffled yells from outside their room confirmed it wasn't just their room having a blackout.
"Wow-- that's first," Neil tried to joke.
"Welton's never had a blackout before?" Todd sounded out, still seeing nothing but darkness. He turned to Neil's direction.
"Yeah, just flickering lights but never this. It's a once in a life-" Neil paused for a bit. This never happens. It could be a momentary sign, maybe from the rain gods he despised, but a sign nonetheless.
He slowly reached out to side Todd's face, clumsily poking his eye.
"Ow-- hey, don't worry, I'm still here." Todd chuckled, assuming Neil was just worried he'd left.
"Todd..." Neil finally held the sides of Todd's face, just barely making out the figure as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room.
Todd looked at what seemed to be Neil's face. He couldn't tell what expression he was making but he could tell Neil was being a bit more serious. "Y-Yeah?" Neil's hands were jittery and starting to sweat.
"... C-can... Can I kiss you?"
If only Neil could see how wide Todd's eyes were at that moment. Neil probably could by the whites of Todd's eyes being more exposed.
"S-sorry... I knew that was too much-- Forget it-"
"S-sure."
"... Wait, what?"
"You can kiss me... but you have to tell me why though."
"I--" A million things popped into Neil's head that moment. A million more reasons why he wanted to kiss Todd. It became apparent it wasn't just about him wanting to be distracted by the rain anymore.
"I need a better distraction right now." Neil lied. Todd wouldn't be able to tell because it was so dim and Neil had to bite his lip to refrain him from exposing his lie.
Not that this broke Todd's heart a little, but Todd had wished Neil wasn't afraid of the rain, he wished their first kiss wasn't a distraction method.
Todd reached out for Neil's face as well, bringing their faces slightly closer, their lips just brushing against each other. "Good, because I've been looking for an excuse to kiss you too." Neil could feel his own face turn warm.
Nothing else was said in that dark room. All they heard was the sound of their breathing as their lips met and the low rumble of the storm outside their window.
Neil was right. A kiss did make him distracted.
Just like the storm, this kiss was just one of many more to come.
