Rukia let out a melancholic sigh, laying back on the grass to stare at clouds dotting the sky. A breeze ruffled the grass around her face and caused the blades to tickle her skin. If she closed her eyes, she could almost hear Kaien's voice shouting encouragements while she practiced releasing her shikai.
How many years had it been? It was one of the rare memories she had from that lonely time in her past - Rukia's heart had soared, feeling a sense of accomplishment that she had not felt in a long time. The pride Kaien showed was a staunch contrast to the look of indifference that was permanently etched on Byakuya's face.
So much had changed since then. So much had happened since that day. What would Kaien have thought of Ichigo? Rukia let out a soft laugh at the image of those two meeting. The similarities were amusing. It's a good thing no one else was on Mount Koifushi or they might think she was losing her mind.
She wondered what Kaien might think of her bankaii. Would he have been proud of that achievement as well? Or express worry on the potential dangers to herself? A silent single tear slipped out of the corner of her eye, racing down toward her ear. The ache in her heart over his death would never fully heal over. There would always be a piece of her soul that grieved her mentor.
Rukia sat up, knowing she was due back soon. The sun was starting to creep toward the mountain's edge. She didn't bring the traditional shot of sake to share with his spirit. She didn't think Kaien would mind. Taking her fore finger, she traced the Shiba clan symbol on the grass, allowing frost to form on it's tip to mark it into the grass. The ice crystals glistened in the golden sunlight.
my hand reaches out to hold his cheek. feeling the light stubble and his soft skin as my thumb brushes over it. the hard jawline almost cutting my had as it rests there. his hair a controlled mess. strands hanging into his face and tingling his forehead. his eyes pierce mine. blue and harsh and confused. eyebrows pinched and lips slightly parted. "what are you doing?" I hitch a breath because he caught me and ripped me out of my head. but my hand remains for a moment longer as I say "It's almost as if Aphrodite herself sculpted you to taunt me with something I can never have."
author's note: that's literally what I just woke up from, thank you very much. he's too gorgeous for my sanity.
"Y/n's pregnant!" JJ yells, storming into the Château to be met with confused faces from all of his friends. "Who told you that?" Sarah asks, giving him a flustered look. "Because she said Kie thinks she's pregnant," JJ countered just as you came stomping in. "JJ! What are you doing!" you scream and he turns to look at you. "I'm gonna be a great dad, I promise," he takes a few steps closer and you take your hand up, pinching the back of your nose. "JJ, I'm not pregnant!" "Yes, you are," he nods repeatedly. "No, JJ, I'm not. I said, I think Kie thinks I'm repugnant. I never said I was pregnant," you stress and he furrows his brows in confusion. "Those words sound the same." "No, they don't," you shake your head and fall down on the couch next to Pope. It takes a few more seconds of silence before all your friends burst out laughing and JJ trods away to the bedroom, grumbling about how it's not his fault that words are hard.
Jalec (shadowhunters) + 56. “It’s so good to see your face.”
Canon Universe, set before the show’s/book’s canon.
~1,890 words
A/N: hello sweetie!!! first of all this one took me a bit longer just because i wasn’t home to finish it because i was writing this thing i was on fire in my seat ksjdfgkjgnkrkj idk it got away from me a little, but i had toooooooons of fun and i sure hope you enjoy it! thank you so much for this, i missed writing jalec, damn
as always this is pretty much not proof read im very very sorry for the weird mistakes
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The hilts of the seraph blades Jace is holding feel warm in his hands. He’s been gripping them for quite some time, and even though his runes are all in perfectly working order he still feels unsure as he looks around and doesn’t take him long to figure out he’s severely outnumbered.
Perhaps, a tiny voice in the back of his mind quietly provides, he should’ve waited a little longer for backup. He scowls, takes a big breath in and refuses to acknowledge that because he’s got this.
So he moves.
The way he moves is instinctive, slashing and stabbing, kicking and pushing at the lesser demons on his path, his body almost moving in autopilot as he blocks and counters attacks.
The narrow way of this tunnels under the city where these demons have been hiding works in his advantage, but still, he is very much outnumbered and next thing he knows he’s stepping back to where the tunnels get wider, intertwine with a perpendicular one in that clearing, and Jace is a lot more exposed.
Fuck, he thinks as he steps back, takes a minute to access his surroundings, just like every demon seems to be, looking at him and observing trying to figure out his next move.
Jace is a good soldier, he’s the fucking best they’ve got, in fact, but the problem here is that he’s just one. There’s no way he can cover all angles in a place like this, and okay, he needs to be realistic just about now and start thinking of a way to get out of this because, if he keeps just fighting, there’s no way he’s getting out of this in one piece.
But then, with impeccable timing, he feels, more than he sees the presence of his parabatai.
“Jace!” Alec calls out as him and another five shadowhunters spill from the tunnels that converge into the clearing Jace is backed against, and just like that, everything is set into motion again.
With a swing of his seraph blade that lands straight into the shoulder of the demon running into him, Jace can’t help but laugh, feeling the adrenaline spike all over again, “It’s so good to see your face,” he says as Alec gets close enough.
Even with the erratic movements of the fight, Jace can see the annoyed frown on Alec’s face.
“You’re a fucking idiot, did you know that?!” Alec says, stopping a moment to accusingly pointing his dirty seraph blade at Jace for good measure, “an absolute fucking idiot, didn’t I tell you to wait?”
The smile stays on Jace’s face, a sort of euphoric relieved one (although he’ll never admit it to Alec) as he swings his blade around, moves to Alec’s side on instinct and they start fighting together. “Well, yeah, but-”
“No buts!” Alec yells, as he takes out one of the demons rather violently. Jace spares a glance and his eyebrows go up in his forehead in a mix of amusement and admiration. There’s a pause and Alec turns around to face Jace for a moment. “You keep getting yourself into deep shit and it’s my job to dig you out of it and you honestly test my fucking patience, you just needed to wait.”
They both start moving at the same time again, swirling around each other with the effortless ease that comes from knowing each other’s moves and fighting styles so well, covering every angle. When Jace comes up in front of Alec again, protecting Alec’s exposed flank and taking out the demon that swung at him, he takes a second to look at Alec, who’s looking back, pouts giving him the most ridiculous face and says “sorry.”
Alec groans, rolls his eyes and shakes his head, moving once again to stride towards the last demons near him, “I swear I hate you,” Alec says, but there’s no heat in it.
With a smirk, Jace follows his movements, knowing Alec’s approach like it was his own, and they both finish off the last two demons. “No you don’t,” Jace says, breathing worked up from all the fighting.
In resigned silence, Alec gives him a pointed look then turns away to inspect his weapon, instructs their colleagues to have one last look around the tunnels before they leave first. As everyone starts dispersing in groups down the tunnels, Jace turns as well, ready to follow.
“I’ll give a hand-,” he starts, but Alec interrupts him.
“You are not leaving my sight any time soon,” he says in that authoritative tone he makes work so well as he finishes wiping his seraph blade and puts it away. They both stare at each other for a while in silence, the tension building between them.
A small teasing smirk spreads across Jace’s face, “you’re so hot when you’re angry,” he says, voice dropping lower, still loud enough to echo in the walls on the clearing.
Jolted, Alec’s mouth falls open and his first reaction is to look around, see if anyone heard him, before he faces him again - something flips in Alec’s eyes, and Jace can’t bite off his own smirk.
“Jace, what the hell,” Alec says, voice low, frowning at him as he lowers his face, almost like a warning.
And fuck, honestly, it eggs Jace on.
“It’s true,” Jace shrugs, a clear mischievous smile spreading on his mouth, despite the fake show of innocence he tries to convey with the word. He can see the tension on Alec’s jaw as he adjusts his weapons, throws warning look at Jace and tell him to “shut up,” before turning around to start walking away, towards the tunnel from which they entered.
But if there’s one thing that Jace is, besides a bit of a little shit, that is stubborn.
“It gets me worked up, I swear,” he says, following Alec, who’s still walking away in bit, strong steps, almost stomping like he’s making a point of walking away. Jace knows him well enough to know that that is exactly what he’s aiming for. He adds, “maybe that’s why i do it,” in a low tone that comes out as husky as he intended it too.
Jace knows he’s playing with fire when Alec abruptly turns around, not that far from Jace and says, with a finger pointed at him and an almost dangerous expression on his face, like he’s about to burst.
“I’m going to punch you in the face,” Alec warns, only half not meaning it.
It does absolutely nothing to stop Jace.
“Fuck,” he drawls out, “even that works for me,” Jace teases in an exaggerated whine that snaps whatever control Alec was exerting on himself.
Jace almost laughs as he feels his parabatai grab him by the collars of his leather jacket, turn him around in swift movement and backing him up against one of the brick walls, hand falling on Jace’s neck automatically squeezing at the sides, making Jace’s mouth fall open in a gasp around the smile on his face, head tilted back against the wall, eyes fluttering before fixing back on Alec.
“Not only do you fuck up my mission,” Alec speaks through gritted teeth close enough that he’s speaking right into Jace’s ear, but not too close that he can’t keep eye contact. He squeezes around Jace’s neck a little bit harder for a moment, “you’re also being a brat about it?”
And this, this right here is exactly what Jace wanted.
The absolute rush that invades his body with Alec’s words makes him hum as he keeps the eye contact. He wasn’t lying - angry authoritative Alec really does things to him. It’s so easy to forget where they are sometimes, and the peak of adrenaline that comes after a fight does not help in the slightest, if the tightness of Jace’s trousers already are anything to go by.
He tilts his head back, brings his chin up in a small act of defiance and keeps looking straight into Alec’s eyes as he bites on his lip.
“What do you think you’re doing, uhn?” Alec says, still tense, quickly glances down the tunnels. He turns Jace’s head just slightly with the hand still on his neck, brings his own face even closer to Jace’s until his nose is bumping against his cheekbone.
“Do I need to fuck some sense into you?” Alec’s voice comes out low, tense, and Jace feels it going straight to his dick, feels his stomach flip and his heart fasten. His breathing gets worked up a little, and he doesn’t say anything, closes his eyes instead.
Shit.
“Do I need to take you down a peg, put you back in your place, uhn? Is that what you need me to do?” The hand around Jace’s neck squeezes for a second, “How dare you tease me like that, is this your idea of “keeping it a secret”?”
With his eyes fluttering open, Jace smirks, something in him pulling him to rile Alec up even further and he’s not thinking properly when he says “I never said I wanted to keep it a secret, did I?”
He barely registers when Alec turns him around, feels the hard cool bricks of the wall against his cheek instead when he meets it and once again, that rush of adrenaline only intensified as he feels Alec’s body fall right into place behind him, flush against him.
“Are you gonna do it here? Uhn? Right now?” Jace breathes, trying to look over his shoulder and feeling absolutely drunk on the arousal that takes over him.
Every single fucking time he’s with Alec, the excitement never fades one bit.
Alec grabs at his hair instead, forces his head back. Jace feels the hardness of Alec’s cock push against his ass, even through all their clothing, feels the way Alec rubs against him for a second.
Jace closes his eyes again, brain completely blissed out, trying to control his breathing with very little success, and then Alec moves so his mouth is next to Jace’s ear again.
“No.” He whispers.
Jace opens his eyes.
“You don’t get to ruin my mission, act like a bratty little bitch, tease me and still get what you want.”
It’s like a bucket of cold water being dumped over Jace. He whines, all shame gone out of the window, when Alec gets go of him and steps back. His hand braces the wall as he starts turning around, eyebrows pulled up. “Alec,” he calls pleading.
Once again, Alec’s hand comes to Jace’s neck and pushes him back first into the wall this time. He brings his chin up, looks down at Jace, “pull yourself together.” Alec tells him, soft, barely above a whisper.
Footsteps start being heard coming back from the tunnels.
“I’ll consider dealing with you once we’re home,” Alec whispers, before his hand loosens up, and he steps closer to peck Jace on the lips, once, a ghostly soft touch that makes Jace groan in frustration, before he pulls back.
He needs to close his eyes for a second to control his breathing.
On the way home, he thinks of all the possible ways he could get Alec to give him what he wants.
Jace is willing to try them all if he has to.
If there’s one thing that Jace is, besides a bit of a little shit, that is stubborn.
Hi!! From the prompt list, If you want to (obviously), Could you do Steo, number 2 or 52? ☺️
Steo (teen wolf) + 2. “They may not understand you, but I do.” + 52. “Why don’t you tell me why you really came here tonight?”
Canon Universe, with canon divergence, set somewhere in 5x11, after the sheriff is hurt, before they figure out who hurt him.
~1,540 words
A/N: Hi darling!!!! oh you were so nice asking i decided to do both :D thank you so much for this, i love steo to death, i cant get enough of writing them. i also love angst cannot help myself, hope you don’t mind, and i hope you like it!!! sorry about mistakes it is very much not proof read sorry. and thank you!! xx
ps- if ever anyone wants to ask specifically for happy/fluffy things or sad/angsty feel free to include that in the ask with the prompt i don’t mind at all!
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Stiles can feel his heart beating in his throat. He’s moving, but his brain isn’t making any conscious decision to put one foot in front of the other. His phone is clutched on his hand and he’s repeating the directions he read to keep his brain busy.
There’s so much gibberish, there’s always so much noise it’s almost fucking impossible to not feel like he’s drowning in his own thoughts, so he keeps repeating the directions and his feet follow.
In the end he doesn’t know how he got through the maze of tunnels and exactly to the right place, but he stops at a badly lit rusty looking room and he knows he’s in the right spot.
“I’m surprised you reached out,” comes Theo’s voice, and he appears just on the other side of whatever this place is supposed to be. Stiles’ eyes are on him immediately. He doesn’t answer, works so very hard on trying to control his breathing and calm his heart.
Theo’s words from last night (was it really only just last night?) echo inside his skull and he knows Theo can hear the jump his heart gives.
“Does this mean you’re joining my pack?” he finishes, with a smirk - he doesn’t really think that’s the reason Stiles is here, he can see it on Theo’s face. He’s just toying around with him. And he knows Scott is fine.
Stiles tries to not let the anger take over.
“You didn’t hurt my dad,” he says instead. It gets Theo’s attention, his eyes focusing on Stiles intently.
“I told you that before, didn’t I?” Theo answers, narrows his eyes ever so slightly and starts pacing slowing circling closer to Stiles. Stiles can feel what’s left of his sanity slipping away from him.
“But you know who did,” he states. It’s not a question - Theo has to know. And Stiles needs to know as well. His hands are shaking.
Theo inclines his head just a touch, stops to look at Stiles properly, “I don’t.” He says. It makes something snap inside of Stiles, it makes all that anger curse through his veins, comes out in the form of a scream and a violent kick to the door just next to him - strong enough to crook it's already not very sturdy form.
“Stop fucking lying to me!” Stiles yells at him, hands closed into fists, his whole body shaking. He feels like he’s going to rip out of his own skin, eyes watering keeping him from seeing the way Theo strides towards him.
“I never lied to you,” Theo tells him, calm and collected - a perfect contrast to the absolute raging fire that Stiles feels like.
Without thinking, Stiles’ hands come up to grab Theo by the collar in a movement very familiar, except this time around, neither of them moves. Theo’s chin comes up and the stay calm and still as Stiles yanks at him.
“Who hurt my dad, Theo?” Stiles repeats and his voice gets away from him, slipping through his fingers just as the grips Theo’s shirt tighter. The control Stiles is fighting so hard to keep feels too slippery and he doesn’t have directions to repeat in his head anymore so his brain gets flooded with every single intrusive horrible thought that he’s been keeping away in order to function because.
What if Theo is telling the truth? What if he doesn’t know and he’s back to zero and his dad is running out of time and he has no way of helping him and-
Every breath he takes is painful, the white noise in this ears grows louder and louder with his horrible thoughts and his vision is getting blurred with tears that he can’t fight. He’s shaking all over and he’s not sure if he keeps gripping Theo’s shirt to hold him in place, or keep himself from losing balance.
Theo’s hands come up to grip both his arms, “Stiles,” he calls, controlled, “look at me,” he asks. Stiles can barely register what he’s saying but somehow he manages to, tears falling down, lips parted as he tries to just fucking breathe!
“Easy,” Theo instructs in a quiet voice, keeping eye contact with him, tightening his grip on Stiles’ arms, gets him to stop shaking so much. “You need to focus.”
Focus. Yeah, Stiles knows that. He needs to reel himself back in, he needs to keep breathing or he won’t be any fucking help.
It takes him a couple minutes, in which Theo does nothing but observe him. When Stiles reaches back towards the wall, Theo walks him back and doesn’t let go of his arms. Stiles would be lying if he said the weight of them aren’t helping him anchor himself.
Theo keeps watching his face, squints a little like he’s seeing something else, beyond the drying tears and beyond the panic and fear and anger.
After a while, he speaks, “if I knew who it was that hurt your dad - which I don’t… what then? What will you do, after you save him?”
Somehow, Stiles knows exactly what Theo is asking. And he also knows that Theo knows the answer to it. He wipes away at the rest of his tears and a blank expression takes over his features and an automatic answer ready.
“We’ll lock them away and keep them from hurting anyone else-,” Stiles deadpans and Theo scoffs, rolls his eyes as he lets go of Stiles, takes a step back finally giving him his space. Stiles lets himself slide down the wall to sit on the floor.
“Cut the crap, Stiles, it’s just the two of us here,” Theo says, his voice rising just a little bit as he focuses back on Stiles. “What’s this ‘we’ bullshit? That’s Scott’s solution to everything, because he’s just too afraid of compromising his own conscience in order to do what needs to be done. But you’re different.”
Stiles stays quiet, locks eyes with Theo and feels his heart fasten again, “You know that there’s no other way, sometimes. Just like with Josh. Just like with Donovan.”
The worst thing is, he’s right, Stiles thinks. He brings his hands over to cover his face, rubs at his eyes and feels for a moment the exhaustion he isn’t allowed to, not just now.
When did he stop agreeing with the good guys and thinking like the bad ones?
Theo crouches down to Stiles’ eye level, takes his wrist and pulls his hand away to look at him.“ Your friends,” Stiles wants to laugh at the way he spits the word, although there’s no humour in it, ”they may not understand you, but I do.” Theo’s voice goes quieter.
“I think you’re smarter than every single one of them. And that makes you more complex, and that makes you not think in black and white.” When Stiles makes to look away, with a scowl at Theo’s words, Theo pulls at his wrist to get his attention back. “I know you know I’m right. I know you know what you really need to do to stop all of this fucking mess, and I know you know Scott isn’t going to help you fix anything, just as you already knew I didn’t know who hurt your dad, but you came to me anyway.”
Stiles breathing picks up as he stares back into Theo’s cold, intense eyes, “So why don’t you cut the crap? Why don’t you tell me why you really came here tonight? Why you came to me?”
“Because I’m going to fucking kill them!” Stiles blurts out, presses forward until he’s up on Theo’s face. “Because I need help, and because the only thing Scott will do is hold me back. But you won’t.”
Theo can’t help the grin that spreads over his face, his breath hitting Stiles’ chin softly as he nods, “That’s right,” Theo’s voice suddenly drops quieter, eyes roam all over Stiles’ face and the change in the atmosphere around them is palpable, makes Stiles’ heart jump and something uncomfortable brew at the pit of his stomach. His breathing hitches as Theo’s free hand comes up to the side of his face, fingers ghosting his skin, “That’s right, Stiles.”
Theo gets closer, and Stiles understands him, suddenly. With a bit of a shock, but then again, not really. “I will never hold you back,” Theo whispers.
Stiles parts his lips. He’s the one that moves, but his brain doesn’t quite register, feeling too high and too raw from the rollercoaster of emotions he’s just been through.
The noise that Theo makes when Stiles kisses him goes straight to the pit of his stomach and ignites that uncomfortable feeling, makes it a hot electric fire that blinds his mind and makes his body move without his permission. He opens his mouth and Theo’s tongue is already waiting for him. Their lips move like they’ve done this before and it’s fucking crazy.
Stiles stops, draws back breathless and looks at Theo. His eyes are wild and he dives back again, kisses him once, twice with Stiles’ hand on his neck holding him close.
He makes to move, but before, with his lips pressed against Stiles whispers “let’s go hunt, shall we?”
Can you do 12 with Lashton? It's been too long since I read one about them 😭
Lashton (5sos) + 91. “You look beautiful in the moonlight.” + 12. “I think you’re forgetting something…”
Canon Universe, set somewhere in 2017, while working on the album Youngblood.
~1,642 words
A/N: Hi guys!! Ok, i literally gasped when i read number 91 and you both asked for lashton just one after the other and oh god the memories!! I hope you dont mind i put these two together, i had so much fun writing this thank you so much! honestly!!! i love you both thank you so so so much for this! i didnt proof read, so im very sorry for mistakes.
i hope you like it! let me know xx
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“What are you doing?”
With a sudden jolt, Luke’s fingers slip from the strings of the guitar he’s holding, and there’s a gasped ‘Jesus!’ that escapes his lips as Ashton’s voice breaks the silence.
The older boy makes an amused sound as he steps out onto the balcony anyway, “sorry didn’t mean to startle you or anything.”
Luke shakes his head “‘S alright, I thought everyone was asleep already,” he justifies.
“Is that why you’re out here in the dark?” Ashton asks as he steps out to the large balcony out of the living room. It’s a temporary place they’re staying at - someone’s holiday house or some shit, for the couple of days they’re supposed to hang around for work.
It’s nice though, and although away from the confusion of the city this particular spot has a great view over its lights.
Luke looks up at Ashton from where he’s sitting on the floor, against the wall. “Didn’t want to wake anyone up,” Luke says.
Ashton turns to him, smiles a little “you’re lucky I didn’t lock you out by mistake.”
Luke lets out a chuckle, “eh, it’s not that cold out here and there’s a lot of floor to sleep on.” Ashton scoffs, as he moves to sit down next to Luke on the floor.
“I think you’re forgetting something, Liz would still absolutely kick my ass if I was the reason you caught a cold,” Ashton says, and it makes Luke laugh with his whole body, guitar to the side as the doubles over a little. And Ashton smiles.
Luke’s laugh, the genuine kind is so rare these days that Ashton feels his chest fill up with something warm anytime he hears it. It’s such a welcome change from the quiet, frustrated, sulking, hurt version of Luke he’s been living around these last weeks.
His laughs dies down slowly and Ashton leans into him, bumping him with his shoulder a little, asks “are you okay?” in a quiet, careful tone. He needs to ask.
Ashton knows that’s a dumb question because, no, Luke isn’t okay, Luke hasn’t been okay for the longest time after that girl entered his life, made a mess of it, and then left leaving everything burning in her wake. Ashton has been living with him for some time now, and he knows, he sees that Luke isn’t okay and that’s why he needs to ask.
Luke sighs, takes the guitar and leans his head back against the wall. Takes his time to answer, “Yeah, I just had this melody in my head…” he trails off, bites his lip as he stares into the horizon, “was trying to find more words for it.”
Ashton looks over at him “more?” incites him to share.
Luke gives him a smile, it’s soft and it’s sad. He looks down at his lap, “‘wish we had never met, wish I knew how to erase you’”
Ashton’s feels his heart sink. His eyes don’t leave Luke’s face, look all over his profile and this angers creeps up on him, this frustration and most of all this helplessness. It’s so unfair. It’s so fucking unfair that he sees Luke like this everyday, that he’s right here next to him and somehow can’t help him, no matter what he does.
“Luke,” he whispers, his hand falls on Luke’s leg, squeezes a little in reassurance just above his knee, because obviously he knows who this is about. He wishes he could pluck her from Luke’s memory with his own hands.
Luke hums, scrunches up his face and shakes his head ever so slightly, telling Ashton to let it be, that he doesn’t really need to say anything, instead continues, “It doesn’t fit right into the melody, though,” Luke says instead, forcing this light tone that doesn’t match the tension in the air at all, “the metric of it isn’t right.”
Ashton turns back to look at Luke, and his chest is still aching and his hands are still itching to take all that pain away from his brain.
And then he figures Luke is already trying to do that - with mismatched words to a melody in his head and a guitar in his lap.
He swallows and takes a breath, says “what’s it sounding like?”
Luke shakes his head again, “I can’t make the words fit.”
“Just the melody then,” Ashton replies, voice soft and his hand lost still on Luke’s leg, “I’ll help you fit them.”
In silence, Luke turns his head searches Ashton’s face with his brow furrowed and he knows just then that this is about more than just this one song. He feels this wave of appreciation filling him up, a sudden rush of affection and gratitude and even guilt as he looks at Ashton and thinks about how he’s been keeping him from falling apart like the broken mess he feels for the longest time.
He starts humming the melody in his head softly, works out the chords to it and after a while of repeating it, Ashton hums with him as he looks up at the sky instead.
“Wish we’d never met…” Luke sings softly, fitting it to the melody after a little, trails off, and Ashton perks up a little, asks him to repeat it and he does.
“...wish I knew how to forget,” Ashton sings, and it fits. They look at each other and Luke smiles a little, again that soft but sad smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and he sings again.
“Now I wish we’d never met, cause you’re too hard to forget,” his fingers stop moving over the strings, Ashton’s eyes shoot up searching his face again and Luke bites his lip, closes his eyes as his breathing comes out ragged and unsteady.
“Luke,” Ashton starts, doesn’t really know what to say, turns his body towards Luke just as he other boy takes the guitar and puts it to the side with a mumbled fuck under his breath that Ashton catches anyway.
Luke brings his hands to his face, elbows supported on his bent knees and rubs at it for a second as if chasing his thoughts away and Ashton’s hand comes up to his arm this time around. “Hey man, it’s alright,” he whispers, trying to reassure him.
After a second, Luke takes his face off his hands to look up at the sky instead - Ashton can see, with a brow furrowed in worry, how shiny his eyes look.
Once again, that helplessness crawls under his skin and he wants to hold him.
“Why is everything so much more fucked at night?” Luke says instead, in this quiet, thoughtful tone of voice, still looking up at the stars, “why does everything ugly come out when it’s dark?”
The hand that Ashton had on his arm slides down to his hands instead, “I don’t think it’s ugly. It’s raw and that makes it scary,” he says in the same quiet voice, gives Luke’s hand another reassuring squeeze. Luke catches it just as he’s letting go.
“It’s still messy.” There’s something in Luke’s eyes as he turns his head to look at Ashton. The older boy holds his gaze and feels his heart crack a little bit more as he sees the hurt and heartbreak and anger in his eyes. “I’m messy and so fucked up.”
And that, right there, is the reason why the frustration and anger creeps up on Ashton from time to time from seeing Luke like this. How can someone deliberately do this to another person? Fuck their trust up so bad, throw them into this never ending cycle of heartbreak and anger and self loathing and insecurities and somehow never leave their mind?
How is it fair?
How come she gets to break Luke’s heart into a million pieces, get away with it, and still she’s all he can think about?
Ashton hates it. She’s the one putting these thoughts in his mind, she’s the reason he thinks he’s broken now, that all that’s left after her are the ugly incomplete parts. Ashton hates it so much.
“It’s real, Luke.” he says, instead, pulls at Luke’s hand and makes him turn his body a little bit as he perks up himself, detaching from the wall to face Luke completely. “It’s real, it means that you’re trying to heal. It’s not going to be dark forever. You’re not irreparably broken, you’re not messed up, and I still think you look beautiful, in the moonlight.”
They fall quiet. Luke is staring at Ashton, his mouth slightly open, like he wants to say something. Their hands are still clasped together and neither one is moving for a second, before Ashton with a pink colour rising to his cheeks breaks eye contact first and pulls to take his hands back. Luke holds on to them.
“No, wait,” he says suddenly. He can’t get hold of his thoughts, not really, but his body is moving forward, “wait,” he whispers again, soft, watching Ashton watch him come closer his chest rising and falling faster than before. That wave of affection washes over Luke once again and he doesn’t really know what to do with himself, feels it overflowing and he can’t think properly.
“Luke,” Ashton whispers back, like a warning, so soft. It has no heat, not really, and Luke repeats “wait,” begging him to keep that thought on hold, to hold it for a few seconds to just… wait.
His lips touch Ashton’s slowly first. The tiniest of touches and Ashton’s eyes flutter shut as he exhales like he’s been holding a gasp in.
Then, in a sudden move, Ashton’s hands come to Luke’s neck and both boys move to crash against each other in a heated kiss, holding on to each other.
Hips switch their hitch with an amateur ball change: our girl sways side to side in her impromptu dance even those early birds can’t seem to make sense of. A couple nosy pigeons pecked at the remnants of night life’s spoils, and Caroline moved to tippy-toes in attempts not to disturb them, instead of putting on those kitten heels dangling from her fingertips...
But hey: the sky looks pretty as a picture, even before she slips on those rose-colored sunglasses she’d had propped up atop her curls. All bright purples and flames of fire-orange announcing the comin’ of the sun... She’s dressed more for the hazy nightlife she’d come clamoring from, obviously: but at least most wouldn’t notice her questionable fashion choices since that nightie was tucked away beneath her garish fuzzied coat... not too many anyones wandering around this early, anyway.
Lollipop, Lollipop, oh! Lolli-Lolli-Lolli !!
Helios came along to give Las Vegas that golden shimmer, that morning glow-- and Caroline flinched back in retaliation from the reflection off the tall buildings: IT’S TOO EARLY FOR EVERYTHING TO BE SO BRIGHT, AND THERE’S TOO MUCH TRUTH IN THE LIGHT! Suddenly she’s so very conscious: of the last few blocks needing overcome before she’s back at her shitty studio, of the fact the pink polish on her toes is chipped all to hell, of those vague memories fading back in now that she’s almost reached that damned level of SOBRIETY that had evaded her since the evening before...
She needs a cigarette. Does she have a cigarette?
To perform a proper search, once her venture was stopped by the flashing hand at a crosswalk, Caroline did finally drop her heels-- even put them on, which was all the poor bartender last night ever wanted from her, not that it stopped him from servicing her at all-- and went to digging through her teeny clutch on a SMOKEY SCAVENGER HUNT!
By the time she finally makes it past candy sticks and roller balls of essential oils, that lady on the corner swears by them! but Caroline really just likes the way they smell, and traps that rogue cigarette between fingertips... she’s no longer alone at the cross walk. Oh no, now there’s a pram strolled up right alongside her, a wide-eyed infant cooing and sighing, and an obviously tired woman in yoga pants who looks like she may just fall right over if the wind blew too hard...
Looks like she’s not the only early bird.
Perhaps her conscience hadn’t saved her from counting at the Blackjack table last night.
Hadn’t chirped on in when she’d lost most of those winnings at the slots afterwards.
Didn’t even bother pulling at her heart strings when she’d taken that pill some fellow offered...
But the cherub on her shoulder came along as a blue-eyed baby who’d probably been giving it’s mother more Hell than Caroline’s given her guardian angel lately... so she opts for a Valentine’s Day Clearance lollipop instead of that solo cigarette... even pulls out a second in offering, for the Mama who would probably prefer coffee...
The woman didn’t question a thing: not much to question around these parts, really: but accepted the candy with a whispered “thank you” before strolling right on across the street all zombie-like as new parents do. Contented by her good deed for the morning-- Caroline will take any good karma she can get-- she traipsed her way right across, taking up that hitch and switch for the final stretch of her journey, slightly in tune with the click, clack, click of those heels against cement... already dreaming of the bed waiting for her back at her pitiful apartment...
