#h2ovanoss fic

[mssjynx]

I want number 6 for H2O Vanoss <3 You're gonna do so good with these!

h2ovanoss drabble

6. The super long kiss that wasn’t intended

If there was one thing that always drew Evan’s attention when it came to Delirious, it had to be his freckles. The way they danced across his cheeks and jumped with every laugh he released. 

They caught his eyes every time. 

The one time Delirious fell asleep on the couch beside him half way through Avengers, Evan couldn’t stop himself from fetching a pen and spending five minutes tracing the prominent flecks of cocoa, drawing out little constellations on his best friends face. 

He caught an earful when the boy woke up, already late to a job interview with semi-permanent sketches on his face. Evan couldn’t bring himself to feel bad though when leaning against the bathroom doorway watching Jonathan scrub at his rosy cheeks while curse after mumbled curse fell from his lips. 

Beneath the stars, it was no different. The night out with their friends was a chaotic one; the arcade staff having their night cut out for them with the rambunctious group of teens. Under the moonlight, Evan could pick out Delirious’ freckles as the boy spoke rapidly, hands flying in wild gestures.

The two trailed behind the group of their friends that moved in a crowd along the street, loud and rowdy as ever beneath the streetlights. Not one of them noticed the other two dawdling as Jon laughed through his story. Evan’s eyes didn’t stray from his friend’s face the whole time; watching his eyes light up with excitement, watching those freckles jump back and forth and dance across his fair skin,  watching his lips pull back in smiles, his tongue flicking out occasionally to keep them moist. 

Evan didn’t realise what he was doing until it was too late, his hand catching Jon’s arm just above his elbow. Delirious’ story cut off mid-sentence as his excitement melted to confusion with the way Evan jerked him to a stop. He faced the younger boy, mouth poised with a question that the night never heard. 

For Evan had stepped into Delirious’ space, leaned up and pressed his mouth to Jonathan’s. The muscle under his hand tensed as Evan lifted his other to the side of Jonathan’s face, the pad of his thumb running over the arch of that freckled cheek. He didn’t move for a moment, lingering with his lips pressed to Jon’s as the stars committed the scene to their memory. 

When he moved to pull back, Delirious didn’t let him. Erratic hands jumped to Evan’s hips and those chapped lips followed Evan’s mouth to pressed closer. Delirious pulled Evan close to him, exhaling gently against Evan’s upper lip as he shifted his lips slightly, slotting them against Evan’s in a kiss that made so much sense. 

Evan’s nerves were alight when Jonathan finally eased back, shallow breaths passing between them as his eyes slowly blinked open to meet the Jon’s brilliant blues as they flickered all over his face. In what was to be an impulsive peck on the lips, Evan’s cheeks were left warm and rosy. He didn’t know what pushed him to kiss Delirious but nothing could compare to the fuzzy feeling in his chest as he turned over the memory of that kiss in his mind. 

He never wanted to forget it. 

[ofdelirious]

born on the fourth of july, 4

“An ordinary man will do the impossible to save somebody he loves,” Evan says, sneers, and there’s blood discoloring his teeth, making him look feral and ferocious even as he’s tied to a chair with a gun pressed to the back of his head, arguably on the verge of death. “Jonathon is no ordinary man.”

it’s not technically the entire chapter, but it’s what i’ve got written so far!!! if you’re feeling some type of way, be sure to let me know what you think, lol. enjoy!

[all other parts are here]

Jon follows behind Luke and Ryan as the rest of the crew — minus Juliette; she came in with both Vanoss and Tyler but has since then disappeared to somewhere or another, and Jon almost feels as if he’s lost a security blanket — file toward the heist room, and he isn’t exactly sure what it is that he was expecting to be seated in when he heard the order to head toward the place, but it definitely isn’t this. 

The room is big, round; there are windows in the front, floor-to-ceiling like the ones in the bedroom Jon slept in, and they’re overlooking the deep blue ocean. The waves are intense this morning, and they’re breaking over the sharp rocks below, foamy and heady and distantly loud. There’s a large circular table in the middle as well as a detailed map of the city on either side of the walls; it’s large, and there are certain places marked here and there that Jon can’t make out very well where he’s sat, squished between Luke and Ryan as they sit facing the windows. 

He makes a mental note to perhaps sneak around the abbey and do a little snooping; he wants to know what’s old, what’s new, and what makes this gang tick before he gives them his all. 

Vanoss moves to the head of the table — if you can call it that: it’s really just the center of the table, facing away from the windows — and stands, with his thick arms crossed across his chest while he waits patiently for everybody to have a seat and become the orderly criminals they’re supposed to be. 

Jon stays silent and drinks everything in, mind running a mile a minute as he drops from this and that and back to this again and again in an attempt to simply understand the complexities of this ragtag group of friends with happy trigger fingers. 

One everyone’s sat and respectively quiet, Vanoss looks toward Wildcat. “Good news or bad news first?” he asks, with a kind of crooked smile that Jon would love to see again. And again and again and again. 

Wildcat shrugs. “They’re big boys, they can handle the bad news first, I think,” he replies, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He’s handsome in a kind of geeky way; his glasses are more wire than plastic, like the usual fashion, and his cheeks are a bit chubby and he’s tall, taller than even Jon himself, and he’s always been a sucker for a man that he has to look up to. “And if they whine about it like pussies, make ‘em stay behind and clean the abbey. It’s looking a little dusty, anyway.” 

“Fuck off, Tyler!” 

“Watch your mouth, Mini, before I put it to good use.” 

“Is that a promise?” 

“Only if you want it to be, baby.” 

Vanoss snorts and rolls his eyes; Jon is only a little bit ashamed to admit that his eyes haven’t left the leader’s figure since this entire debacle began. “If you two are finished eye fucking each other, I think it’s time we explain the next mission to everyone.” 

Things get serious after Vanoss stops speaking; Jon can feel the difference, the shift in Luke and Ryan’s demeanors beside him, and he risks looking at the both of them from the corner of his eye to see if they’re as affected by the sudden tension in the room as he is. 

Vanoss clears his throat. “As we can see, we’ve got ourselves a new face in the room,” he begins, and faces Jon, motions to Jon. His smile is soft, gentle, sweet — Jon is dark and bitter and dumb. 

“Yeah, I know! He’s in my seat!” 

Luke snorts. “Fuck off, Brian,” he calls, and it’s mean but it’s nice at the same time and Jon just doesn’t understand how that’s possible — just doesn’t understand how it’s possible to be an asshole to people you’re in a gang with and then not have to worry about getting your throat slit when you lay your head down to rest. “This ain’t kindergarten and we don’t have assigned seatings.” 

Brian giggles. “Evan does.” 

“And so do I,” Tyler says, raising a brow. “Got a problem with that?” 

Brian shakes his head and laughs again, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nah,” he answers. “You and Evan have the worst view in the room.” 

Tyler balks, a bit red-faced from the exasperation, and he’s handsome, adorably, at this moment, and Jon feels a stirring in his stomach because he is just now realizing the amount of attractive men he is surrounded by. It’s a strange sort of heaven, full of testosterone and attitudes. And gunpowder; the stench of it is heavy in the air on this level, nearly overtaking the ancient scent of time and dust and history.  

“Brian, I swear to God if that’s some kind of pickup line for your husband —“ 

“You’re just mad you don’t have the balls to ask Mini out!” 

Beside Brian, his husband Brock sighs and shakes his head, kind of like an exasperated parent, reaching beneath the table with his hand and apparently grabbing Brian’s; Jon watches the way the humor leaves Brian, as if evaporating water on a hot blacktop, and is replaced with pure and raw affection, adoration as he turns to look at the man he loves. 

Jon’s hit in the chest, hard. He had that — he had that, and then his father fucked it up, and he wants it again. Yeah, he wants it again. Because it’s hard not having something that you relied on so heavily; losing Lauren, losing his son was worse than any kind of withdrawal he ever had to go through. 

“If we’re finished with that, I’ll just get started,” Vanoss begins, but there’s no malice in his tone either and Jon tries to remember what it feels like to not be living in a constant cloud of confusion. “As most of us know, Tyler and Craig have been undercover for a few weeks, trying to infiltrate the gang that’s been distributing drugs all over Los Santos. Not much leeway has been made, as we all know, too, because of how tight-knit and isolated and cautious with their dealings, but I think we just got a big break.” Vanoss looks at Jon, then. “How much are you comfortable with them knowing, Delirious?”

Jon balks, tries not to show just how shocked and unsettled he is at the question Vanoss tossed at him; in all his years, he has never been in the same proximity of a gang leader who asked and considered what his crew thought before continuing. It makes Jon feel as if… as if he has been missing out on something that he’s never had before. Or, at least, hasn’t had in a very, very long time. 

“Everything,” he replies, meeting Vanoss’s eyes. Even from their distance, just shy of ten feet, Jon can see the darkness in them — and he likes that. It kind of matches the darkness in his own, and it makes him feel a bit more human, too, to see another person cultivate such blackness. He doesn’t feel alone. 

Vanoss nods in his direction once, before spreading his hands on the countertop of the table, leaning over it and grabbing everyone’s attention with his commanding aura. He clears his throat, and Jon watches, struck dumb with admiration. And a bit of attraction. 

A bit?

A lot. 

“All of us know Delirious, know of his reputation and how he has pledged himself to no gang and no leader. He’s a wild card, a man who will not wear any kind of leash that is put on him. But something has happened, and he has come to us about it.” Vanoss stops, then, and meets Jon’s eyes. “Do you want to explain what’s happened?” 

Jon swallows, and wishes to shake his head, to decline that offer, because he’s never been the best with words and especially when he’s pushed in front of an audience he isn’t comfortable with just yet, but he finds that he is nodding his head before his mind can catch up to his mouth. 

“I was attacked, and that’s not weird. That’s actually pretty normal, even considering I didn’t have my mask with me.” He’s worked so hard to keep his face hidden; here, now, he feels naked in a way that he hasn’t in a decade. They can see his face — they can see the scars, and the startling contrast of his eyes: one as blue as a cloudless sky, the other the color of the horizon right before you descend into hell. “They ambushed me, dragged me into an alley, and tried to beat me up. I got loose from them before much harm could be done but it’s still… weird.” 

From there, Vanoss takes over. 

“I think this new gang distributing drugs around the city are the same gang who approached Delirious last night and asked him to join. They’re new — they don’t know Delirious, and they don’t know of Delirious, either, so this rookie mistake may have just costed them their hard-earned anonymity.” He looks around the table, his eyes raking over every one of the members; in them, a question is being asked that Jon can’t understand. “And I also think Jon is the key to stopping this piece of shit gang that’s ruining our city.” 

And, as soon as those words are spoken, all hell kind of breaks loose, and Jon wants to evaporate like rain water in the summer when the sum comes out and intensifies the heat of the afternoon, leaving the world a sweltering mess of sweaty humidity. 

“Evan —“ 

Jon’s chest stings. He didn’t expect — 

“I know that Delirious isn’t exactly somebody we would have considered before, but —“ 

“No fucking shit.” It’s Tyler; Jon flicks his gaze upward, was not aware that it fell onto the glossy surface of the table while Vanoss was speaking and the others began to interrupt and display their disgust and distrust. Tyler’s looking at him with hatred, with malice in his eyes; Jon doesn’t flinch because he isn’t scared and this is not the first time that somebody has expressed their hatred so vividly. “You’re not exactly rainbows and sunshine, dude. You’re a fuckin’ killer. I remember what you did to that family, with those kids — you’re fucked in the head, and I’m not happy to have you in my home right now around the people I love.” 

Jon looks away from Tyler, keeps his head down. He knows what everyone in this room thinks of him — of course he does. He would be an idiot to not. Even Vanoss himself, no matter how gentle and kind he was last night, considers Jon a threat. And they have every right to: he isn’t a good guy, he isn’t somebody that one would sleep with their back turned to. He is tainted — he is the closest thing to a demon that this world has ever seen. 

But it’s different, in a sense, when you hear it laid out so bluntly, so brashly, in front of you. 

But he isn’t scared. He hasn’t been scared in a long, long time. Because they don’t know him — they now of him, know of the things that he has done and of the things that he has had to do to survive, but they don’t know him. None of them do. 

And one man having a fit over the inconvenience of two unlikely parties coming together for allied assistance in a mutual fight does not terrorize Jon’s dreams like watching the blood squirt from his child’s throat did. There is nothing in the world that can scare him anymore, least of all a big kid throwing a hissy fit as if they were a group of friends on the playground at school discussing the politics of the school and who gets to sit next to who. 

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know more than half of you in this room are shittin’ your britches because I’m here and would probably cream your pants at the thought of being able to tell the whole city that you’re the one who killed Delirious?” Jon smirks crookedly as he meets Tyler’s eyes; he’s not stupid. He knows exactly what’s going through Tyler’s head. “I know you’re scared of me. I know everybody in this room is scared of me. Even Vanoss, and he tries so goddamn hard not to show it.” Jon catches a gleam of Vanoss’s grin from the corner of his vision, and he isn’t sure what to think about that. “But I’m here, and I’m the best lead you have on something you’ve apparently been working on for a while, and I’m not going anywhere until we figure out just who in the fuck thinks they have a right to hurt our city.” 

“This isn’t your city.” 

Jon turns his head and looks at Brian. “This is my city.” He blinks. “And this is your city, too. We’re not fuckin’ six anymore. Learn to share.” 

Beside Brian, his husband Brock fights to hide his grin after allowing Jon to see it. It makes Jon feel a little bit better for cursing the crew.  

Tyler crosses his arms and clears his throat, gathering Jon’s attention once again. “Why should we trust you?” 

Jon licks his lips and stands; he lifts his leg, sets his foot on the table, and pulls his pant leg up over his boot. Inside the worn out boot is an untraceable phone he’s had for years, created specifically for him by the same woman who manufactured his father’s years ago, and on it is every single number, every single name, every single bank transaction, every single request he has had in the decade of this hard life he’s been living. 

He slides the phone across the table. “In all the years I’ve been killing the people that nobody else wants to, I have declined every single offer placed on any one of your heads.” No matter the price, no matter the promise, no matter how fucking glorious hundreds of thousands of dollars are — these are good people, and Jon doesn’t hurt good people. “It’s all on that phone. You’re welcome to do with it whatever you wish. I don’t need it right now.” 

The room is silent after that; Jon can faintly hear the uneven breathing of the crew as well as the waves as they crash against the rocks below the large windows. He keeps his eyes on Tyler — Tyler, who slowly uncrosses his arms and reaches for the phone, picks it up and holds it in his hand and stares at it as if Jon has just given him the key to every secret in the universe. 

On a whim, Jon moves his eyes toward Vanoss; he sees that Vanoss has his gaze trained on Jon with a gentle, soft smile. His face is smooth, undisturbed — he doesn’t look like the leader of a deadly gang, doesn’t look like a person who can slit your mouth from ear to ear in order to give you a permanent smile because you’re the “funny man” before he runs the blade across your jugular. 

He just looks like a dude. Like a guy. Like somebody Jon would love to take out, would love to talk to, would love to get to know; like somebody that the other Jon, the Jon that lives in his head and not his life, would have. 

And it makes him sick. That he doesn’t have what the Jon in his head does, that he will never have what the Jon in his head does. And he tears his eyes from Vanoss and settles them back on Tyler because at least when he’s staring into the icy glare of Tyler he isn’t reminded of everything that he used to have, of everything that he’ll never have again. 

“I’m not here to fight. I’m not here to kill you. I’m not here on some sort of mission from another gang, and I’m not here to join, either.” Jon feels Luke and Ryan move on both of his sides, just a little; a bristle, if one would even call it that. “I’m just here for help in catching the dumbasses that are fuckin’ up our city and asking for my help in doing that.” 

It’s silent for a moment, till Vanoss clears his throat. “Any more objections in Delirious helping us for a while?” 

Glances are shared, glares are thrown, whispers are passed from ear to ear, but nobody says anything and for that Jon feels some type of relief that he wasn’t sure he was capable of experiencing. 

“All right, then,” Vanoss says, spreading his hands on the table and leaning forward. “Here’s what’s about to happen.” 

[vanosslirious]

Yo. I wrote the 10th Chapter to my H2oVanoss fic, Violent Nights Under A Turquoise Sky.

— Serpent

EXCERPT:

 “I need you to listen to me, Evan,” Marcel stressed, trying to lean forward. “This is real, I’m real. Whatever you’re seeing or hearing is not real. I need you to focus, can you do that?”

 “I don’t know what’s going on.”

 Marcel nods, panic setting into his features. “I know. Just focus on what I’m going to tell you. Right now, you’re going to have to try and escape.”

[chinxino5-blog]

blood nose

h2ovanoss oneshot - [ highschool au ] warnings: none 2224 words

for @crimsonbluemoon’s birthday!! i wanted to do something small and random as a gift for this amazing friend (and wife) of mine! just a lil bit of cutesy h2ovanoss for the soul, i hope it can make you smile, crim!

-

It wasn’t like Jon was dumb. Really – he wasn’t.

He had a tendency to make silly mistakes, and sometimes he made up his own words when he couldn’t find the right one. People had told him he had a stutter and a small slur, his hair never sat quite right and he barely even noticed when he dropped f-bombs around younger kids.

But he wasn’t dumb! Even if his literature grade was currently a C-minus, he wasn’t stupid.

He just… struggled?

Aaaaand he may have been a small bit uncoordinated which really came out at the worst of times.

For example: standing in the lunch-line, thinking about the lasagne he was very excited to eat when a weird-looking bug decided the back of his hand was a perfect place to nest.

A small fun-fact about Jon: he really didn’t like bugs, so it was quite the achievement that he managed to contain the high-pitched squeal rising behind his lips. It wasn’t surprising through when his first instinct was to fling his hand as far away from his body (and face) as possible as to hopefully launch the small critter and its big red wings off of him. Which worked – but also meant he slapped Evan Fong right across the face from where the guy was standing innocently behind him also waiting for a plate of lasagne.

“Oh my God-!” His hands flew to cover his mouth in shock-horror, jumping away from the Asian boy who took a step back from the impact. Brown eyes looked to Jon in confused hurt and Jon mentally stabbed himself in the leg. “Fuck-! I mean, oh shit! I-I’m so sorry, Evan! I didn’t mean to- There was a bug! It was huge and ugly an- and I didn’t mean to hit you. I was trying to get rid of it but-…”

He watched in horrified awe as Evan blinked, looking cross-eyed and lifting hesitant fingers to his cheek and nose (which were red in their offense). The boy inspected his fingertips after a second, blood dripping over them and sighed very softly.

Jon’s heart fell to his feet, far less calm about the situation. “Oh my shit, is your nose bleeding!?” he gasped, pulling Evan closer by his shoulder and touching the bridge of the bleeding nose with his hand. The skin was boiling hot. “I’m so sorry! Fuck, fuck- I’ll take you to the n-nurse’s office and we can get you some ice, and some tissues, and-”

Evan hadn’t said a word. He only stared at his peer, the boy he’d had Geography with for the past three years but only spoken to once or twice. From what he knew, Jon was – to put it lightly – a mess sometimes. So he wasn’t all that surprised that the loud-mouthed boy had been the one to smack him across the face unexpectedly at lunch.

But it was the first time he’d gotten the chance to get a good look at the big pair of blue eyes and just marvel at how deep their colour was. It wasn’t like Jon even noticed either, rambling and waving his hands as he pulled him from the lunch-line and hurried him out of the cafeteria as though he needed an ambulance.

“It’s just a blood-nose, dude; calm down. Jon – chill!”

His fingers fell into place at the bridge of his nose, cupping his other hand beneath his chin. Jon stopped silent but didn’t seem to notice his hold on Evan’s upper arm. There was a moment of pause where the older boy just watched the blood drip down over sculptured lips and Evan let out a slightly muffled laugh.

“I get them all the time,” he assured and Jon shook his head, shaking himself back awake in a comical way that had bloody lips pulling up in amusement. “Let’s just go to the bathroom, I don’t need the nurse.” Evan turned, leading himself towards the boys’ toilets and leaving Jon to make his own decision on whether to follow or not.

A small spark of joy in Evan’s chest lit when the brunette skipped up to walk at his side.

“Are you sure you don’t need the nurse? It’s a lot of blood an’ maybe they- maybe they can fix it!” Blood dripped from his chin, not looking like it was going to stop any time soon as Jon watched. He sounded hopeful in his words, very obviously embarrassed and apologetic about his accidental violence.

Evan still shook his head though, shoving the door to the bathrooms open with his shoulder. Jon followed. “It’ll fix in a couple of minutes,” he said, watching in surprise as Jon scurried into a stall. The boy reappeared right after with a massive amount of toilet paper, holding it out.

Those eager eyes.

Evan couldn’t help but laugh, fondness behind his smile as he accepted some of the clumped paper. Jon hovered, holding the rest and patiently waiting until he was needed again.

“How much do you get them?” he asked.

Evan grinned, flashing bloody teeth. “Not so much now. I got them more when I was younger. I have to be really overheated, really drunk or, er, hit pretty hard on the nose now.”

Jon’s smile fell, face reddening in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, eyes downcast. With his unbloodied hand, Evan tapped Jon on the cheek with two fingers.

“Don’t be – you were scared of a bug.” Those pretty eyes raised to his, flashing with insult in a way that teased Evan’s humour.

“I was not scared!” An unsurprising defence that sounded rather childish. A lot of stuff did coming from Jon. “I was just… er… surprised!”

Evan nodded, scrunching up the tissues more. It didn’t take longer than a few seconds for them to soak through completely and he dumped them in the bin. He startled when Jon stepped into his space, watching close with his tongue peeking out between his lips as he very concentratedly fit another bunch of tissues beneath the boy’s nose. There was not a flicker of hesitation in his face of focus, not at all acknowledging his actions as anything besides normal.

The younger of the two stood still, hoping no other kid would walk in on them. It would likely look a little odd for the two fifteen-year-olds but to Evan, the hand steadying itself on his shoulder was more than comfortable.

He didn’t expect something so gentle from a boy so messy. Jon watched closely, dabbing the tissues at his lips and chin. He held them there while he wet another clump to clean away the blood that looked to be drying.

“Sit up.” He tapped the counter. Evan told himself it would have been smarter to take the tissues himself but a part of him found it nice to have Jon’s worry close in contact. It was fine.

Instead he let out a soft “pfft” sound, hands doing nothing at his sides. “I’m not sitting on the bench, it’s filthy.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “You’ll survive, princess. Sit up.”

There was a moment that felt rather silly; Jon glaring Evan down while holding blood-soaked tissues beneath his nose like a worried mom. A long moment of silent debate jumped between them before Evan just gave in.

He hopped up on the bench, hands in his lap, and allowed Jon to play doctor for him, collecting more toilet paper and wetting some of it. He stood partially between the Asian boy’s legs and focused all his attention on taking care of the still-bleeding nose.

Evan didn’t think Jon even noticed when he rested a hand above his knee.

“Does it hurt?” was his next question, Evan having to find himself after a moment and look away from the deep ocean eyes.

A very intelligent, “Uhh,” dropped from his lips before Jon’s fingers lightly pressed on the bridge of his nose. “No, it- nah. They don’t hurt, it’s just hot,” he explained. “They’re more irritating than anything. I’m sorry you’re missing lunch.”

The little shy smile on his face revealed itself when the next clump of bloodied toilet paper found home in the bin, a hint of guilt within the apology that had Jon shaking his head. “You didn’t hit me; you don’t gotta be sorry!” The grin he showed was one of reassurance. Evan’s guilt melted.

If he was honest, he was happy Jon had come with him. Getting the chance to talk to the wild boy was nice (even under the circumstance of getting slapped in the face by him) and it was definitely nothing to complain about when he got to be so close to the other’s face. His rounded, youthful features were pretty even to Evan.

“Do you have any siblings?” He didn’t really think about the question until it had jumped off his tongue, Jon glancing up at his brown eyes in acknowledgement before returning them to the tissues, careful to not touch the blood with his fingertips.

“Nope!” He popped his ‘p’, dimple marking his cheek.

Evan swung his legs back and forth.

“Do you?”

He smiled at the thought. “Older sister, she graduated last year.” Jon nodded. “Do you have any pets?”

That one sparked Jon’s interest, the boy unintentionally jumping and jerking the tissues up into Evan’s nose. He didn’t seem to notice and Evan ignored the slight sting, not wanting to worry the other. His excitement was a good enough distraction as Evan focused on the broad grin the boy now wore.

“I got a puppy!” he claimed, proud as ever. “Well… not so much of a puppy. He’s nine, y’see? But his name’s Squirrel ‘cause he’s always barkin’ at squirrels, and he’s a goofy li’l staff- Stafford- er… staffy bull terrier!” His brows furrowed as he stumbled over the name of the dog breed, either forgetting it or just not quite able to get it off his tongue. He didn’t seem to mind at all though, his face of concentration not lasting with the excitement bouncing in his eyes. “He’s the cutest! You should come over an’ you can meet ‘im!”

There was a moment after his statement before Jon realised his offer was rather odd and Evan was likely going to think he was a freak for even considering the fact that he’d would want to come over. Maybe saying he should come over was a little weird too – Evan probably didn’t want to at all!

“I-I mean, you don’t have to! I was just thinkin-”

“I wouldn’t mind meeting Squirrel.”

He blinked in surprise, following the honest shine of Evan’s chocolate brown eyes. “You wanna?” he asked, hovering in his uncertainty as he pulled the tissues away and watched his nose, waiting to see if it would continue to bleed.

It looked to be slowing but the trickle of blood was still there. He fetched more paper and splashed it, wiping any redness away gently.

Evan nodded, earning a light slap on the leg for moving his face. “I’d love to,” he said, grin making it even more difficult for Jon to work.

“Quit movin’.” Evan listened, staying still and stifling his grin. “You can come over after school today if you want?” The hesitation was fading, the idea of showing off his cutie of a pup to Evan brewing in his thoughts.

The boy sitting on the bench went to nod, only to remember and smile just slightly in apology. “Sure!” he chirped, loving the excited beam on his friend’s face. The boy he’d barely spoken too offering to hang out after school – he was excited to spend more time with him, to get to know him.

He hoped they’d become good friends.

“All good! I don’t think you’re bleeding anymore-” With perfect timing, the bell rung through the bathroom to finish his sentence for him and the two shared a smile, dumping the last of their tissues in the bin. Jon looked at it for a long second, eyes squinted. “It does look a bit like we murdered someone, but I’m sure it’s fine,” he commented and Evan snickered, jumping down from the counter and pulling Jon from the bathroom by his sleeve.

“I’ll blame you. You’re way more likely to commit a murder than I am, it’ll be easy.”

The two fell into step beside each other, Jon frowning. “Excuse you, I would never murderer any person!”

Evan couldn’t help his grin as they walked. “Oh, no. Murderering people doesn’t seem like your thing.”

Jon’s frown lingered on the confused side, glancing at the boy who grinned knowingly. He thought over his and Evan’s words. His frown formed a suspicious pout. “Are you makin’ fun of me?”

The laugh that fell from grinning lips showed Evan’s guilt, though he tried his best to stifle it. “No- er, no! I would never.”

“I’m not gonna introduce you to Squirrel if you’re mean! Squirrel doesn’t like meanies, alright?” His pout was far too young for the teen’s face and Evan bit his tongue with his giggling, nudging the boy with his shoulder.

“Okay, okay. I won’t be mean,” he sung, giggling still. “I won’t wanna give Squirrel a bad first impression, will I.”

“Don’t worry”—it was impossible for Jon not to mirror the smile on Evan’s face—“Squirrel’s a softie. He’d forgive you anyway.”

note: i’m aware of how random this is. i kinda just found a random generated prompt and went with it because it made me laugh, and why not! so sorry for the lack of writing, i hope this can make up for it a little bit. i have my first exam this friday. i’ll work on fics in between them and see how i go.

thank you guys for being patient! i’ll be posting again in june after my birthday! because thats the day i get back after exams too :p

and for you, crim. i really hope you like this. its only short and very random and not really romantic. im sorry if its a lil ooc bc i ended up rushing it a small bit (i have an essay to finish oh dear) but im still happy with it! i hope you like it too!

you have a wonderful day, you wonderful human. thanks for being absolutely amazinggg <333

gi

[slack-jarrow]

Breakdown

Midnight. The quiet, still atmosphere around Evan is feeling more lonely. By each second he is feeling even more lost. Lost without his best friend by his side. Evan turns his head to the right. His eyes staring at the empty spot next to him. It should have been accompanied by Jonathan, yet it isn't. There, Evan sat on the round, red, fluffy rug. Knees brought up to his chest and arms wrapping around himself for comfort.

The fire crackling in the silent living room brings back short memories for him. He remembers how Jonathan would, in the slightest, twitch his lips to a small smile before it fell down to a thin line; or how Jonathan would do the silliest of things just to make Evan laugh, smile or in order to make him feel better.. Evan sadly smirks at those thoughts. They're special, preserved, carefully stained in his mind. He lets out a long heavy sigh.

'Where is he?' Evan ponders. It had been hours since Jonathan left to the store.

---___

"How long till you get back?" Evan asked. Jonathan looked at his younger friend, his eyes looking right into the another's. Jonathan shrugged.

"However long it takes." Jonathan coldly responded. Evan scoffed.

"Say about 42 minutes?" Evan asked. Jonathan nodded, not wanting to speak any longer.

"Alright." Evan shook his head, and with that Jonathan left.

___---

Evan glanced at the clock for what seemed to be the millionth time that night. It had been 2 whole, painfully slow, hours. Evan was the one to get worried and, right now, he was really worried about Jonathan. He stood up and rubbed his tired eyes. There was no way he could sleep with knowing Jonathan was far away or not in the other room playing a game he's already beat three times before. Evan sat on their dark brown couch, arms on either side of him, as he continued to watch the flames wave at him.

'He'll be home soon. Everything will be fine..'

[bt-es]

just a tip for yall writing fics with evan in it... don't write "the asian" you don't see people writing "the caucasian" do you?

[johnjohnkook]

Secrets // h2ovanoss

aBASED OFF THE PROMPT “A boy comes out as gay to his friend, who soon after comes out as bi. Their parents are homophobic, so they are forced to pretend for the time being that they are still just friends.” BY THE WAY, THIS CONTAINS SMUT.

It wasn’t like Jonathan chose this life.

Bless his heart, he was born like this. He didn't choose to be the gay in a heavily Christian family.

He just wanted to be normal in his family’s eyes. So that’s what he tried to do; pretend to be complete heterosexual.

Jonathan didn’t realize he was gay until he was in ninth grade. He was changing in the locker room, and suddenly, he was staring at Evan Fong’s ass, mouth watering like some kind of thirsty puppy.

He wanted to be friends with the Canadian, but Evan was way cooler than Jonathan could pretend to be, so he was afraid.

In tenth grade, however, Evan and Jonathan became good friends. They were such good friends that Jonathan began to trust Evan with everything.

In study hall one day, Jonathan decided to write Evan a note. He tore out a piece of paper from his English notebook and wrote:

“Evan, can I ask you a question?”

He folded the notebook paper and placed it on the Asian’s desk, biting his lip in nervousness. Evan looked down at the paper before opening it. Jonathan pretended to look busy while he watched Evan reply on the paper with his pen out of the corner in his eye. Evan folded the paper back up and passed it back over, looking back down at his textbook. 

“Of course.”

Jonathan wanted to smile at that, but fear of what Evan would think of him after he told him, but he needed to tell someone. He was tired of hiding who he was, and Evan seemed to be someone who would understand him.

“How would you feel if I told you I was gay?”

Jonathan chickened out. He erased the question and instead asked:

“Would you like to come over today?”

He folded it up and placed it on the Asian’s desk, furrowing his brows and swearing to himself for chickening out as Evan read the note.

“I’d love to.”

Later that day, Evan gave Jonathan a ride home like he always did since Jonathan didn’t have a car. 

“Are you sure I can come in?” Evan asked, furrowing his eyebrows in worry. He knew how the older boy’s parents were.

“Evan, they love you. They think you’re a wonderful influence for me. My sister is literally head over heels for you,” Jonathan reassured, forcing a smile after the statement he made about his sister because he knew Evan was straight.

Evan smiled, cutting off the ignition and exiting the car, Jonathan following soon after. Mrs. Dennis opened the door at the sound, smiling with her purse hanging off her shoulder. “Hello boys,” she greeted, “I was just about to drop Emily off at her Bible class. You both can help yourself to anything in the fridge.” She smiled before exiting the house, Jonathan’s younger sister Emily following shortly behind. She smiled coyly at Evan before getting into the car with her mother.

Evan and Jonathan had the house to themselves for about half an hour. “So what should we do?” Evan asked, taking a bite out of the red apple in his hand.

“We can watch a movie?” Jonathan suggested, but Evan shook his head.

“Nah, your parents have nothing but Christian movies about Jesus and that PG-rated bullshit. I get enough of that from my mom,” Evan sighed, and Jonathan bit his lip. 

“We can go up to my room?” Jonathan suggested, “I don’t have much, but it’s better than being down here.”

Evan laughed, “I’ll race you.” 

Jonathan laughed at that, quickly running behind Evan, trying to get ahead. However, Evan was faster as he made his way down the hall and into Jon’s room.

“Ha!” Evan yelled victoriously, throwing his hands in the air, and Jonathan totally did not notice the section of delicious tan skin that poked out when Evan’s arms raised.

Evan plopped down on Jonathan’s bed, releasing a comfortable sigh. The blue-eyed teen mouth watered at the sight of Evan’s skin, and he felt he needed to leave to compose himself. “Hey, I’m going to get me a drink. You want anything?”

“A glass of your mother’s infamous lemon tea will do,” Evan answered, grinning over at him, and Jonathan swore his heart stopped.

Jonathan left the room as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself. While he was waiting for the shorter’s return, Evan pulled out his phone; however, when he tried to sit up, he bumped his head on the shelf hanging on the wall above Jon’s bed, forgetting the other was shorter than him. Consequently, he dropped his phone and it landed on the floor. Leaning down to pick it up, he noticed something under the bed and curiously picked it up. It was a dirty magazine and what shocked Evan was the naked man on the cover.

“Holy fuck,” he muttered, eyes wide in shock.

He flipped through the magazine and raised his eyebrows at all the nude men. Unfortunately, Jonathan walked in at that time. 

“Here you go--shit!” Jonathan quickly ran over, snatching the magazine from Evan’s hands, ready to make an excuse about how it’s his sister’s and he doesn’t know how it got in there when Evan looked up at Jon with furrowed eyebrows. “You could’ve told me, you know?”

“Told you what?” Jonathan asked nervously, trying to hide his trembling his hands from Evan’s view, “I-It’s my sister’s.” He was fucked.

Evan laughed, “Bullshit! You can be honest with me, dude.”

“Fine,” Jonathan grumbled, opening his dresser drawer and putting the magazine in it, “I’m gay.”

Evan grinned. “Oh, really? I couldn’t tell.”

Jonathan punched him in the arm.

Evan laughed and Jon sat next to him on the bed, “You know, I kinda like guys too,” Evan whispered, and Jonathan’s eyes widened in shock.

“Really?” 

“Actually, just one guy, but still.”

Jonathan grew hopeful, quietly asking, “What guy?”

The room grew quiet before Evan leaned over, whispering softly, “I mean, your ass looks really great in those jeans.” Jonathan shuddered at Evan’s words, turning to look at the Asian in the eyes. Evan was smirking. Jonathan felt like he was dreaming. He was so tempted to pinch himself to wake himself up, but Evan’s hand gripped his jaw before leaning down and pressing his lips to Jonathan’s roughly. Jonathan’s heart was pounding as he struggled to kiss Evan back as much as Evan kissed him. When Evan pulled away, panting heavily, Jon breathed, “We don’t have much time.”

Evan grinned. “Challenge accepted,” he responded, reaching for the button on Jonathan’s jeans.

Evan maneuvered them until his back was pressed against the headboard and Jonathan was facing him. He pulled at the older’s jeans, his hips bucking up so Evan could pull down his jeans. Jonathan crawled over, desperately kissing Evan’s lips once more and Evan chuckled at his eagerness, brushing the bulge in Jon’s boxer briefs. Jon gasped, pulling away. “Touch me again, please,” he begged softly and Evan smirked.

“Just wait, baby, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Jonathan bit his lip and gripped the younger’s shoulders as Evan’s lips attacked his neck and slowly pulled down his underwear. Jonathan gasped at the cold air reaching his heated skin. 

“You have lube, babyboy?” Evan asked gently. The older nodded, keening over the nickname and rushing over to his dresser, opening the same drawer he put the magazine in and pulled out a bottle of cherry-flavored lube.

Evan immediately took the bottle, pouring some onto his fingers and placing it onto the desk nearby the bed. With his other hand, he patted his jean-clad lap and Jonathan obeyed, straddling Evan’s lap, placing his knees on either side of Evan’s legs, and whimpering as his hard cock rubbed against Evan’s covered torso. Evan placed his index finger at the other’s hole before slipping it in slowly. Jonathan’s eyes closed at the foreign feeling, prepared for the sting. He’s seen enough porn.

Evan began slowly thrusting the finger into his hole and Jon moaned. He liked the pain.

“Move, please,” he begged. Evan obliged, but slipping in a second finger beforehand. 

“Oh god,” Jonathan moaned, throwing his head back, and Evan attacked his neck once more. “How’s that, baby?”

“So good, so fucking good,” Jonathan breathed and Evan scissored his fingers, stretching out the other’s fingers. And then Evan curled his fingers up and Jonathan’s whole body jolted. “Right there!” he yelled, and Evan smirked against his neck, making sure to hit that spot in every thrust of his fingers. 

“Please, Evan,” Jonathan whimpered, “I want your cock. Always wanted your cock.”

Evan felt proud of that. “Anything for you,” he responded softly, pulling his fingers free from Jonathan’s hole. Jonathan felt the loss of Evan’s fingers but prepared himself for something better.

Jonathan slid down Evan’s legs, desperately pulling down Evan’s zipper. “No time,” he muttered, pulling Evan’s cock free through the open zipper. If Jonathan complained about his mouth watering at the sight of Evan before, he should’ve probably prepared himself for the sight of Evan’s large, hard tan leaking cock. Jonathan whimpered at the sight, crawling back up Evan’s lap. “I’ve never been fucked,” Jonathan stated, staring down at the beautiful Asian.

“I’m clean, don’t worry,” Evan assured as Jonathan poured lube into his hand before wrapping his hand around Evan’s thick cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” Evan sighed, eyes closing in pleasure as Jonathan pumped his cock, covering it in lube. Jonathan kept pumping until Evan had to force himself to stop Jonathan. Jonathan grinned, sloppily kissing his cheek before Evan lined his cock up with Jonathan’s hole, the other hand on Jonathan’s hip. Jonathan slid down slowly, mouth falling open in either pain or pleasure--he wasn’t sure. Evan’s other hand reached up to hold Jonathan’s other hip as a guide.

“Oh, fuck, Evan,” Jonathan breathed, eyes shutting as Evan grunted at the tight, warm feeling that was Jonathan sitting on his cock.

Jonathan’s hands gripped his headboard on either side of Evan’s head and pushed himself up slowly. He felt so full. Evan was watching Jonathan’s facial reactions, wanting to memorize them for future reference. As Jonathan started to speed up, Jonathan’s breaths turned into pants and Evan helped him keep a steady pace. Evan was struggling to keep his hips pinned to the mattress. He wanted to fuck that tight heat but he didn’t want to overwhelm the bottom. However, when Jonathan curiously tried rotating his hips, Evan couldn’t stop himself. He bucked up into Jonathan, causing a broken sob from the older man as Evan’s dick rubbed right up against his prostate.

“Again,” sobbed Jon, “right there, please.”

Jonathan couldn’t form coherent sentences as Evan began to fuck up into him, the bed rocking against the wall. “Oh, oh, Evan! Harder!” Jonathan cried and that was enough for Evan to grab Jon’s wrists and slamming him down on the opposite end of the bed, earning a pained cry from the man. Evan grabbed Jonathan’s legs, putting them up on his shoulders before fucking into the tight heat again and brushing right against Jonathan’s prostate in every rough thrust, the bed slamming against the wall mercilessly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!” Jonathan shouted, tears rolling down his cheeks at the overwhelming pleasure, “Don’t stop, Evan!”

Evan moaned at the filthy sounds leaving the blue-eyed boy’s mouth, fighting the urge to throw his head back because he wanted to watch Jonathan take his cock. 

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Jonathan cried, “I’m-I’m gonna fuckin’ cum!”

Evan leaned down, pinning Jonathan’s hands to the mattress, and fucking Jonathan in the position, still ramming against his prostate. Jonathan felt the rough feeling of Evan’s jeans rubbing against his balls, increasing the pleasure. “Do it, baby. Cum on just my cock. Show me how good I make you feel.”

And just like that, Jonathan came all their shirts.

Evan was so close, fucking Jonathan a little harder than he wanted. He was just about to orgasm when he heard the front door open suddenly. “Fuck,” Evan swore, quickly pulling out of Jonathan and hurriedly zipping himself up. 

He quickly handed Jonathan his boxer briefs and jeans and hurried to get him another shirt. 

“What about your shirt?” Jonathan asked breathlessly, slipping on his jeans and running a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry about that,” Evan assured him, pecking his lips.

“Boys, are you okay?” came Mrs. Dennis’ voice from the kitchen.

“Yeah, Mom!” Jonathan yelled, voice hoarse from his shouting. 

“Jonathan, honey, are you okay? You sound sick,” her voice was getting closer and Jonathan began to worry. He looked at Evan, scared out of his mind. Evan quickly pulled his shirt off, slipping it on inside out, grabbing Jonathan’s History textbook off the desk, and plopping onto the bed next to Jonathan just in time for Mrs. Dennis to walk in.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Jonathan replied, “Evan and I were shouting answers to some questions in the History book and I might have shouted a little too loud.” Evan bit back a snort.

“Okay, dear,” she said, falling for it, “Anyways, don’t let me interrupt your study session. I’m going to start cooking, and Evan, you are welcome to stay for dinner.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Dennis,” Evan replied as she exited the room. Evan started chuckling and Jonathan glared at him. Evan, still smiling, placed the book out of the way before leaning over to kiss Jonathan passionately. “I had fun.”

“But you didn’t get to...y’know,” Jonathan said sheepishly, and Evan smiled bigger at his dorkiness.

“I have my hand tonight. And at least now, I have an actual memory to use instead of false fantasies.” Jonathan giggled, kissing Evan’s lips again.

[vanosslirious]

Hey. :) It’s been about a week since I last updated any of my work, but I managed to do it today. If no one knows why, it’s because on the 21st of October, I broke my left foot and my right leg. :/ I couldn’t write cause I was dealing with the pain and I was mostly on meds. But I’m doing better. :)

I updated my H2oVanoss fic, His Chaos Chapter 10  — his answer

EXCERPT:

 “I’m not stupid,” Delirious said, lowering his voice, “you revealed your weakness. Now answer my question.”

 A mass of different emotions flickered in Evan’s eyes. As if he wasn’t sure if he was going to lie, or the truth was too easy to distinguish. Like an open vein when sliced open, the sharpness contrasted against the panic before finally smoothing out whatever chaotic thoughts had clustered along with his answer.

 “You seen it already,” Evan said.

 “Have I?”