#and one surefire way to make them even more concerned is if hes in shitty situations even younger | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thedefinitionofbts · 6 years

Text

Hiraeth (M)

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Soulmate/College Au, Light Angst, Fluff, Soft Smut

Words: 18K

Description: We are always yearning for someone, even if that person may not exist in this tangible realm.

A/N: To whomever stumbles upon this piece of my heart, I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay :)

Warnings: Mildly Explicit Sexual Content

Soulmates.

Apparently everyone had one.

And everyone would have the name of their destined other half inscribed on the tender skin of their inner wrist when they turned 18.

Everyone…minus you.

It had remained the sole most exciting thing about turning 18 ever since you learned about the exhilarating phenomenon, something you had been looking forward to more than the pile of presents you knew you would be receiving on said day, more than the “surprise party” you knew your friends would be throwing you, and more than being the center of attention for a solid few hours like all the other birthdays you’ve experienced in your life so far.

It was supposed to be one of the few things in life that are guaranteed, analogous to a type of promise which does not revolve around uncertainty or a surefire plan that is carried out without fail, an occurrence not influenced by outside forces and has been written in the stars since the beginning of time. Its assurance is assumed, which is also why its ultimate letdown was able to spur so much damage.

Because on your 18th birthday, in place of the sparkling letters of the name you could practically feel on your tongue, painted in the vibrant colors of your most beautiful dreams, you are instead left with a black horizontal line- dull, ominous, and utterly frightening.

To say you panicked right off the bat would not capture the exact sequence of events in its entirety. The truth was your mind had initially blanked, leaving your soul drained of any kind of emotion, but the more you looked at the inconceivable marking the more you became intimately aware of everything that was going wrong. The growing tension as you bit back your tears made your heart clench and writhe in the confining space barred by your ribcage. It was a sharp piercing sting that only existed in your mind, but who’s to say mental pain is inferior to physical? If anything, you’d much rather opt to take the latter.

“Maybe that is their name” Taehyung had suggested rather hopefully as he stared at the horizontal line tattooed to your wrist. “Like it’s pronounced dash or something,” He rubs his thumb over the soft marking, making a more than obvious attempt at consoling you.

“Right…” You answer dully, trying not to let your disappointment push you towards taking it out on those around you. It wasn’t their fault, and you had no right to act like a shitty person. “Because some pair of parents out there decided to ruin their child’s life from the get go.”

“Maybe it’ll show up slowly,” Jimin says, also giving you a more than obvious sympathetic look. He had always sported those naturally pouty lips, but the concern dripping from his glossy eyes is enough to patch up part of your gaping wound at the very least.

“Yeah, if anything, they’ll probably find you” Taehyung adds encouragingly.

When you were younger you had never concerned yourself over finding a lifelong partner, a significant other, or “missing half” as some people liked to call it. Heck, no one did because everyone knew that when the right time came, they’d find said person and fall in love to be united for eternity. It was the satisfaction guaranteed offer printed on every individual’s wrist upon adulthood.

Of course, that was before you found out you’d end up being an anomaly.

You reach out and press the doorbell, sensing the icy air threaten to give you frostbite the second you remove your gloves. Taehyung and Jimin had invited you over to their apartment for a small get together after finals, celebrating the start of winter break and the end of yet another hard fought semester. You wait patiently for someone to open the door, snuggling deeper into the warm space created by the woolen scarf wrapped around your neck, observing the white crystalline flakes continue to fall from the sky, drifting and dancing in mid air before making their landing on solid surfaces tied to the earth- the brick windowsill, the frozen railing of the stair steps, the untouched patches of snow on the lawn that was green some seasons ago.

“Y/N!” Jimin’s cheerful voice greets you in tandem with the heated air that escapes through the opened door.

“Hey Chim” You greet, as always, attempting to return a smile as bright and welcoming as his own.

“Come in, come in” Jimin chirps, opening the door wider and scrambling to find you a pair of fuzzy slippers to change into as you remove your snow covered boots.

“Y/N!!!” You hear the familiar baritone voice that can only be described as overly zealous, shoot from the kitchen. He was most likely cooking up a storm and quite literally too. You had heard about the last time he tried to bake a cake in which Jimin ended up calling the local fire department in fear that the whole apartment would be burned to ashes.

“Hey Tae” You return the greeting. “Need some help there?” You inquire, waiting for the male to respond and hoping he knows what he’s doing this time or at least has taken extra precaution.

“Don’t worry.” Jimin reassures. “He’s been taking lessons from Seokjin.” Jimin whispers excitedly.

You laugh. Of course, Kim Seokjin, the resident chef in your group of friends, you can still practically taste the palatable flavors of his unforgettable Kimchi stew on the tip of your tongue. Oh how good that sounded right about now.

“Is he coming?” You question, wondering why Taehyung was cooking instead of the more experienced male.

“He was busy tonight. Said he was still working on finishing up his final thesis since it’s his last year.” Jimin responds.

You sigh as you plop down on their soft couch, looking around at their cozy little apartment that had basically become your second home ever since they moved out of the dorms.

It was no surprise that Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung were destined to be together from the day they were born. After 18 years of an inseparable friendship that blossomed from their days as innocent and unassuming childhood neighbors to hidden high school lovers, no one even battered an eyelash when they saw the characters of Taehyung’s name slowly appear in sparkling coral ink on Jimin’s dainty wrist, swirling in vine-like movements of cursive script and shimmering like the fiery tail of a majestic phoenix. Likewise, Jimin’s own name in celestial blue had emerged on the lightly sun-kissed underside of Taehyung’s upper forearm at exactly the same time, brushstrokes matching the tendrils of a graceful comet soaring across the dark midnight sky, putting the glow of distant stars to shame.

They were without a doubt the definition of soulmates, the perfect combination of opposing poles creating a balanced universe, the poster children of the system the world revolved around.

You didn’t even have to try to not be jealous of them or envy what they had. It’s akin to the type of comparison that’s not even assessable because the objects of comparison were on completely different levels. Like when you don’t get frustrated when someone who is way smarter scores higher than you on an exam or when you lose to someone you didn’t even have the credentials to put yourself up against in the first place. Losing to an obviously stronger opponent is not something to be angry over, just like resenting the world you had no control over was entirely useless.

Why be bitter about something you would never even come close to having?

“So is it just the 3 of us tonight?” You query, as Jimin takes a seat across from you and offers you a drink. Having quaint little get-togethers with just a few of you closest friends had become the norm so to say. Because parties and getting dead drunk on weekends was less fun after all of you had passed the age of 21, something about taking the thrill of performing illegal acts away and being tired of the same old reckless routine.

“As far as I know” Jimin confirms, taking a sip of his beer.

“Actually, someone else is coming.” Taehyung corrects from the kitchen. He walks into the living room to place a bowl of chips on the coffee table.

“What? Who?” Jimin questions, eyes fixed on Taehyung, who was starting to look like a deer caught in the headlights.

“I-I..ugh, sort of invited J-Jungkook and his plus one” Taehyung swallows, waiting for the other male to respond to his revelation that you didn’t know why he was getting so nervous about.

“What the hell???” Jimin chokes on his drink making you jolt in your seat. “Jungkook as in Jeon Jungkook? Why the hell did you invite him? We barely know the guy anymore, and he clearly doesn’t share the same values as us.”

“H-he said he was tired of parties and wanted to try out more mature activities.” Taehyung explains. “And n-not in that sense, get that out of your head!” He adds quickly, face flushing a light shade of pink.

“Tae, he’s 2 years younger than all of us, he’s nowhere near mature.” Jimin argues.

“So, who is this we’re arguing over?” You butt in, unsure of what exactly was going on, or why inviting this Jungkook guy was such a big deal.

Jimin turns to you. “Someone you don’t want to get involved with” He advises. “But now that Tae has invited him over, I’m not sure you’ll be able to.” He flashes the younger male a scolding glare.

“A-actually, he…ugh… sort of invited himself” Taehyung reveals, scratching the back of his neck.

“And you agreed to it?” Jimin throws Taehyung a flabbergasted expression.

“You know I have a soft spot for the guy, and he looked so lonely.”

“Tae, Jungkook is anything but lonely.” Jimin reminds.

“He’s just misunderstood,” Taehyung counters.

“He changes girls more than he changes clothes!” Jimin retorts, a statement that makes you raise your eyebrow questioningly.

“Well technically that doesn’t say much because he likes to wear the same shirts over and over.” Taehyung fires back. “But I’m sorry ok, I can call him now and tell him something came up and-“

Jimin sighs. “It’s ok Tae, what’s done it done. Just think a little before agreeing to these things from now on.” He grabs a napkin to wipe his beer-spattered shirt.

So the part about Jungkook changing girls more than he changes clothes was evident the moment he stepped into the apartment with his arm around not one, but two gorgeous representations of the female species. The cocky look on his face screamed fuck boy, and you’d think those wouldn’t exist in a world where everyone had soulmates, but there were a good number of outliers who weren’t satisfied with one partner. The unfaithful, they were labeled, or simply those who wanted to “live young and free”.

“So much for plus one” Jimin mutters under his breath like he knew this would happen.

“Kookie!” Taehyung voice echoes through the room as he opens the door wide enough for the three people attached at the hip to walk in the doorway…barely. It was like they felt it was so necessary to sustain physical contact that they couldn’t bear to be separated for the few seconds it would take to enter one by one.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth, arms still wrapped around the two girls.

You hear Taehyung murmur a soft sorry, and return to his smiling self.

“And who are these lovely ladies?” Taehyung proceeds to inquire, directing his attention to the females next to Jungkook. The ones who were eyeing Taehyung up and down and whispering god knows what into Jungkook’s ear.

“I’m Eunbi” The taller, more cold looking one replies.

“Eunha” The shorter one adds with a cute smile.

You and Jimin stare at the awkward scene splayed in front of you, namely Taehyung running out of extra slippers and having to offer his own to Jungkook while forced to be barefoot for the remainder of the night (his Christmas themed socks were pretty adorable if that made it any better), and then Jungkook and his girls walking over to squeeze on the now cramped space that is the couch you were sitting on.

Jungkook smiles and nods his head at Jimin as he makes eye contact with the older male, a grin that to any outsider would not look threatening in the least, but you knew there was some hidden strain in the otherwise casual greeting between the two, especially as you watched Jimin smile back with a beam that, for once, doesn’t reach his eyes.

Then comes the moment his pupils made their way over to land on you. A precarious lingering of distant contact that makes you feel oddly self-conscious and your heartbeat to accelerate from its normally steady pace because his cocky face falters almost unnoticeably, lips parting ever so slightly, and was that sparkle you saw in his previously cloudy iris or was that just your imagination?

“And who do we have here?” The words escape Jungkook’s lips in the form of a question directed at you. His expression had just as quickly reverted back to the way it was when he had entered the apartment.

“I’m Y/N,” You announce. “Friends. We’re friends.” You point at Jimin and Taehyung.

“Best friends” Taehyung corrects with a beam, he hastily slides over to join everyone in the living room

Jungkook ignores the emphasis made by Taehyung, most likely deeming it as unimportant. He proceeds to stare at you, eyeing the way you shifted uncomfortably next to Eunha as she pushes you towards the edge of the couch that was clearly not made for 4 people because you were practically morphing together with the armrest.

“Jungkook, your sweater is sooo soft” Eunbi purrs as she rubs his chest like she was petting a dog.

The smirk on Jungkook’s face makes Jimin cringe.

“I prefer his white button up” Eunha interjects. “You know, the one that’s kind of see through and shows off his…muscles.” A flirty smile spreads across her face.

“It’s too cold for that babe, but look forward to when the weather warms up.”

So you learn that Jungkook has been working out, or more like he announced the fact to everyone in the room, bragging about how much weight he’s able to lift now, in which Eunbi, Eunha -and you want to say Taehyung- all listened to with enthusiasm. Apparently he was a pretty scrawny kid back in high school, and now that he’s a freshman in college, he wanted to sport a new image, or in his own words, “get ripped”.

You’d call what the 6 of you were doing in the living room a “friendly conversation”, but honestly Jungkook was talking 99% of the time, and the other 1% just came in the form of awestruck gasps and one-word comments from the two other girls.

“So, you guys hungry?” Taehyung interrupts just as Jungkook pauses to take a sip of beer. You can practically hear Jimin’s sigh of relief as he hops up from his seat.

“Starving” Jimin grunts, racing towards the kitchen and almost forgetting about you.“Oh, Y/N do you want to help me set up the table?”

You ears perk up at the sound of your name. “Yes!” You reply instantly, thanking god that he turned back for you. “I would love to.”

You don’t turn back to see if Jungkook notices how obviously happy you and Jimin were to get out of there, but you figure it shouldn’t matter, not when he still has Eunbi and Eunha to keep him company.

...

It wasn’t long before the food was plated and everyone was sitting down enjoying the meal. Taehyung was telling stories of how Seokjin was able to teach his formerly hopeless ass how to cook along with Jimin’s re-telling of the infamous he-almost-burned-down-the-apartment tale. Everyone was mesmerized as they listened to the two, laughing at how comedic their expressions were and admiring their unique personality dynamic. It was always times like these when you couldn’t help but sit back and appreciate how perfect Taehyung and Jimin were for each other, something so beautiful that you honestly wouldn’t believe if you hadn’t been seeing it with your own eyes for years.

“So Y/N, is this Seokjin guy your boyfriend?” Eunha suddenly asks, her voice snapping you out of whatever thoughts you were having.

“S-sorry?” You stutter, wondering how the hell she got that idea.

“Seokjin is Namjoon’s soulmate” Taehyung butts in before realizing he said the trigger word. “Ow” He mutters as Jimin pinches his thigh under the table.

“It’s fine, guys. I think I can handle it.” You assure them, still unsuccessful in your attempts to convince their overly worried and protective selves that you’ve gotten over the soulmate thing. It’s been years. You’ve moved on. “But yeah,” You turn back to Eunha. “Seokjin and Namjoon are a pair and we’re all just very good friends.”

She nods in understanding, or what seems like a polite gesture.

Jimin clears his throat moments later. “Taehyung has also prepared dessert,” He says, giving Taehyung a hurry-and-go-grab-the-cake look. “haven’t you Tae?”

Taehyung stares as Jimin confused for a millisecond before the realization hits him, and he glides back into the kitchen to bring out the pastry he had spend all day baking and decorating to perfection.

“So pretty~” Eunha coos, clapping her hands in delight as Taehyung makes his way back from the kitchen with his masterpiece.

“Waa~” Eunbi joins in, nudging Jungkook who seems to have spaced out. You’ve barely noticed that he’s been silent all throughout dinner, too focused on Taehyung and Jimin telling stories and feeding each other lovingly.

You can almost see the faint flush spread on Taehyung cheek as he admires his own creation proudly. He begins cutting into it, serving each guest a piece of the delicious treat until there is only on last piece of cake remaining, and neither you nor Jungkook have been served yet.

“Umm….” You can physically see Taehyung’s Adam’s apple bobble up and down as he gulps in nervousness, staring at the last piece like it was a time bomb about to explode.

“It’s fine, I’m feeling full anyways.” You quickly announce, flashing Taehyung a smile as natural as possible.

“B-b-but…” Taehyung’s eyes switch back and forth between you and Jungkook.

“Actually, I’m not really a fan of sweets.” Jungkook opens his mouth to voice for the first time since everyone began eating, every one turns to the young man who had been staring at you.

“Since when?” Eunbi bursts out. “You told me you loved sweets, and you always go back for seconds when it comes to dessert.” Her mouth hangs open as she gapes at Jungkook in disbelief. You turn and see that rosy pink flowers have blossomed on his formerly uncolored cheeks.

Taehyung quickly clears his throat. “Jimin and I will just share a slice.” He quickly says while pushing his own piece in front of you and serving Jungkook the last slice that had commenced this embarrassing sequence of events.

…

When Jungkook and his girls leave, Taehyung comes back into the living room and looks at you and Jimin uncomfortably.

“Tae, don’t feel bad. It’s his fault for bringing an extra person.” Jimin consoles.

“I’m just, gah, I shouldn’t have invited him.”

“He wasn’t that bad” You shrug, causing both Jimin and Taehyung to look at you in surprise.

“Y/N, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for him already” Jimin makes a mildly disgusted face.

You almost choke on the water you were sipping. “What? No, no, I’m just saying he seemed more considerate than you guys make him sound.”

There’s a pregnant pause in which you have a minor flashback of his cocky attitude when he had walked in and the 40 minutes of straight bragging he engaged in while you were all gathered in the living room.

“Ok, pretend I didn’t say anything.” You correct, making both Jimin and Taehyung laugh.

…

When winter break does finally arrive in burst of frigid wind and snow-speckled air, the university campus turns into a frost covered ghost town-previously bustling sidewalks and grassy lawns now entirely empty and void of life.

Finals were thankfully a thing of the past, albeit not so distant, but at least the end of the semester was allowing you to somewhat breathe with ease. But like every year, you’re hit with that strange hollow feeling that settles in your gut after weeks of overwhelming stress, like diving into cold water after hiking to the top of a mountain in the heat of midsummer or stepping off of a wild roller coaster after your body had already adjusted to being accelerated in a million different directions.

Standing in front of the library, you take a long look at the peaceful patches of untouched snow, the daylight waning under the cloudy, grey expanse and the bare trees rooted frozen in the serene environment- matching with the cool undertones of the white wintery realm that had been cast over this part of the world.

Jimin and Taehyung had both gone home to their families, and were most likely celebrating this joyous season happily with their parents, siblings, grandparents, and undoubtedly, each other. The thought almost makes you wish you had decided to go home this winter break, to be back in the company of your loving parents who would probably be more than happy to prepare all of your favorite foods and talk about the past school year and whatnot. But you stay firm in your decision to give yourself some time alone, some time to think and figure life out, or do whatever you didn’t really know exactly.

You just wanted to be alone for a bit.

Taking a deep breath you begin heading back to your studio apartment, pulling out your headphones and putting your favorite playlist on shuffle. These were the times you enjoyed the most, walking alone after a long day and getting lost in your favorite music as you cleared your mind of stress and only dwelled over pure emotion, sadness, nostalgia, acceptance, hope, or whatever your heart desired.

Just as you were getting in the zone, a figure walking in the near distance catches your attention, not only because he was the only person around this abandoned area, but also because said person’s trajectory on the sidewalk would soon intersect with yours. You pull your headphones out as the dark figure almost bumps into you because he was mostly likely also lost in the music he was listening to-made apparent by his oblivious attitude towards the oncoming collision and the pair of headphones stuffed in his ears.

“Hey, watch it!” He begins to voice as he nearly doubles over while trying to avoid running straight into you. An annoyed scowl is plastered across his face, that is, until he sees who you are and the face of recognition washes over his distorted expression. “Y/N?” He murmurs in disbelief.

It was none other than Jeon Jungkook.

“H-Hey” You greet, casually, trying not to turn this into an awkward encounter or causing it to drag out into a full blown conversation.

“You’re still on campus?” He inquires, pulling out both of his earpieces and tucking them away into his coat pocket.

“Yeah, I decided not to go home this year. I’m still working part time at the coffee shop downtown.” You throw in the last part just for kicks. It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn't the full-blown truth either because you could’ve easily taken work off like you did every year, but you figured you’d spare him the details. “You’re not either?” The words leak past your lips before you’re able to remind yourself that you didn’t want to start a conversation with him.

“I’m not really into family gatherings and the idea of going home” He replies, shrugging and letting out a warm huff of air, white vapor dispersing in trails of wispy smoke.

You nod, ignoring the note of curiosity over what he actually means by that. It was a conventional gesture between strangers who didn’t understand each other beyond the most superficial of levels, a sign that you were ready to end this interaction right then and there. “Well, I’ll-“ You were about to add see you around, but Jungkook cuts in before you could finish.

“It’s k-kind of late. I can walk you back to your dorm or apartment or wherever” He offers rather nervously, if you weren’t mistaken about the way his voice went a pitch higher on a few select words, namely late, I, walk, and apartment.

The prepubescent aura he’s radiating now makes you wonder how he’s able to attract so many girls. What happened to the cocky fuck boy impression that he initially gave off? Or the one Jimin and Taehyung keep insisting he possesses and that he himself had clearly demonstrated less than two days ago?

“Ummm, no that’s ok. I don’t live far from here anyways.” You smile, kindly rejecting his spur of the moment, or so you think, offer.

“Oh, o-ok, t-then” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I’ll, uh, see you around?”

“Yeah” You affirm before proceeding to walk in the direction you had been headed before the collision. You were about to go back to listening to music when some unspecified force temps you to turn around a check to see if Jungkook had left. To your surprise he’s still rooted in the same spot, seemingly just minding his own business until your eyes meet his and causes his expression to mimic that of a deer caught in the headlights.

You raise an eyebrow, wondering why the hell he hadn’t moved at all.

“O-Oh, uhhhh…” Jungkook looks around the empty campus, clearly unsure of what to do with himself right then.

“You alright there, buddy?” You shout back, wondering why he was acting so strange and waiting for him to finish whatever explanation he was probably cooking up in his head.

“I-It’s just, I-I was about to walk in that direction too, and I didn’t want this to be like that awkward situation when you say goodbye to someone but end up walking in the same direction anyways.” The words come out almost slurred, like he was trying to spit them all out in one go. The faint flush of pastel pink is making its way back up his cheek as he makes his way towards you with a defeated sigh.

You let out a small laugh, not even knowing how to respond to this whole situation that was turning out to be more amusing than you expected. “Ok, how about you just walk with me until we end up parting ways.” You suggest, realizing that this situation was made even more awkward because the two of you were trying to avoid being awkward.

Jungkook chuckles nervously as he scratches the back of his neck.

The two of you continue walking for quite some time because you actually live further from campus than most people would consider walkable, but you enjoyed it, always relishing in your much needed periods of solitude. But now walking alongside Jungkook with no music to distract either of you, it wasn’t until the silence lingering in the air was beginning to feel so suffocating that you swallowed your social ineptitude and dipped your toe into more small talk.

“So what was that about you not liking the idea of going home?” You query as Jungkook’s previous response to the question you had asked makes its way back to the front of your mind. You hope that it doesn’t sound too personal or prying, but he could always just make up some meaningless response if he was uncomfortable with sharing his real thoughts, right?

You can almost feel Jungkook tense slightly at the sudden sound of your voice before relaxing once more. “I left my home when I was really young to attend a private academy in the city” Jungkook explains. “I was raised by my grandparents in my early years, then I moved in with my parents for a few years after that. I guess I’ve just never considered certain places to be my real home. They’re all kind of just…places.” The look in his eyes is sincere-almost telling of the vulnerability hidden behind his glassy pupils in a way that made your heart soften ever so slightly. The nervousness that had been interlaced in his voice before has left without a trace as well.

“I see…” Is all you can say, and you feel kind of shitty for the fairly cold response you’re giving him.

“What about you?”

“Hmm?” You turn to glance at him startled, not expecting the same question to be directed back at you.

“I mean, why don’t you like going home?” He asks, explicitly wording the question he had previously implied.

“I-I…” You trail off, clearly remembering you had never mentioned anything about not liking to go home, distinctly recalling your intention of specifically avoiding the revelation of things you only said to yourself. It was impossible that Jungkook would know, and you almost convince yourself that he was probably just fishing, that he doesn’t actually know his question had hit a spot you had always chosen to avoid. The part about you that you don’t just reveal to anyone walking down the street or even your closest of friends.

“Come on, you can’t possibly expect me to believe work is the only reason you’re not going home for the holidays can you?”

Oh, so he’s already trying to read in between the lines? You feel a bit of embarrassment mixed with irritancy sprout like little florets in your chest. “Well, I’ll have you know, I take my job pretty seriously.” You attempt to cover up that spot, glossing over it for the nth time in your life. It was all mechanic at this point.

Jungkook looks skeptical, but doesn’t push the matter further, perhaps sensing your reluctance to continue on with the topic. The walk from that moment on turns into a relatively silent one, in which Jungkook doesn’t tell you how far he lives or even motions to head in a different direction even as the two of you close in on your apartment. The sky was already dark and the automatic streetlights had lit up just as the sun dipped below the distant horizon.

“You did this on purpose didn’t you?” You accuse with a hint of playfulness, stopping when you’re both in front of your apartment.

“I-I, ugh…” He’s searching for the words that can form the excuse he’s hoping you’ll believe, but ends up just shutting his mouth before he can make matters worse.

“Thanks” You say anyways, deciding that he was probably just worried about your safety and really didn’t have any ulterior motives.

He scratches the back of his head, tucking his reddening face lower into his scarf.

“It was kind of on the way” He shrugs. “I-I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, see you” You wave at him one last time before walking up the steps to your apartment.

…

Going to work the next week felt nothing short of routine. Now that the crippling stress from classes wasn’t an issue any more, spending long shifts at the café didn’t sound as bad as it had the weeks leading up to midterms and ultimately finals. Since it was the holidays, business was moving at a snail’s pace, causing your boredom to compel you to turn your thoughts to a certain someone you’d rather not waste your time thinking about. But you had to admit he was kind of sweet for walking you home, despite the unconventional way in which the events actually transpired, and your short conversation with him surprisingly felt a lot more personal than most of the ones you’ve had with even the closest members of your family and friends.

Waving off your own daydreams, you attempt to steer your attention towards wiping the coffee stained table when the sound of the bell signaling the entrance of more customers startles you as the coincidence of seeing the person you were just thinking about unfolds in reality, making you nearly jump out of your own skin.

“Y/N, what a surprise” The familiar voice almost gives you a heart attack as you turn around to be faced with the person you already knew it was.

He wasn’t alone this time, bringing his friend who looked to be a few years older than him into the coffee shop.

“Y/N, Hoseok. Hoseok, Y/N” Jungkook runs through the brief introduction, after ordering at the counter and making his way over to you.

Hoseok eyes you up and down, before nodding his head in approval. “Wow, Kook, your new girlfriend is gorgeous!”

“We haven’t gone out yet,” Jungkook quickly says, clearing his throat. “But what do you say we change that, babe?” He turns to you with a smug grin.

You’re caught off guard for a momentary lapse, wondering if the question was actually meant for someone else. But upon realizing that it was in fact directed towards you, you’re immediately appalled. His sudden change of personality had come as a shock. Was this what Jungkook was really like? Was he just hiding behind a façade the other day you two were alone? You were beginning to understand where Jimin and Taehyung were coming from with the way they had been so wary of the younger male. Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly a cocky asshole, 100% purebred douchebag.

“Um, no thanks” You frown, turning your back and returning to counter to help make the orders.

You can hear Hoseok laughing in the background as you try to ignore the stunned expression that’s probably plastered on Jungkook’s face right then. Serves him right for playing games. Why was he acting like this again?

When their orders are made, you watch the two of them leave the shop, with Jungkook glancing back at you almost apologetically, but you convince yourself that it’s just your imagination.

...

The rest of the afternoon passes as per usual, with customers coming and going. At one point you get a call from your parents, wondering how you were doing and reminding you to take time to de-stress and to not overwork yourself because it was something you had the tendency to do. You can tell by the tone of their voices that they’re still a bit disappointed that you decided to stay on campus over break, but you’re grateful they’ve always respected your decisions even if it went against their wishes.

By the time your shift was over later in the day, you were glad there were no more surprises awaiting you …or so you thought because just as you were leaving the café, you see a certain Jeon Jungkook leisurely leaning against the wall outside.

You elect to ignore his presence and walk ahead.

“Hey, Y/N, wait” You hear Jungkook call before running after you as you strolled past him.

“What do want, Jungkook? I don’t have time for this.” You ask in annoyance, ignoring the pleading look in his eyes and his fake apology that you can practically already hear.

“Listen, about what happened back there-“

“I have no interest in going out with you, so you can stop stalking me or whatever this is.” You interrupt sternly, knowing that if you agreed to his promiscuous antics you would end up being nothing but one of the million other nameless flower petals on his already crowded wall.

“I know it’s weird that I waited for you to get off work, but I just didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable if I had stayed in the shop…” He trails off.

Your walking comes to a halt as you register what he had just said. “You waited for me outside?” Your voice comes as a murmur. In temperatures this low?

“W-well, I mean, I did go to the dance studio with Hoseok for 2 hours before coming back here.” He scratches the back of his neck.

That’s still 3 hours of shivering in the snow. “You dance?” You query instead, attempting to lightened the mood.

Jungkook chuckles. “What you have a thing for dancers?”

You frown at his pick up line.

“S-sorry” He lowers his head once again. “I’m just, I-I..” You see his body waver slightly, and his failed attempt to steady himself before you take notice. You have a hunch that something’s not right, and upon reaching up and feeling his forehead you become aware that he’s burning up.

“Jungkook you have a fever” You voice alarmed.

...

The rest of what happens comes as a blur, namely Jungkook flashing you a faint smile before collapsing against your body. Luckily your apartment was much closer to the café you worked at than the university. You don’t know where Jungkook lives, if he lives alone, or if any of those things passed as an excuse to take him to your place, but you didn’t have time to weigh out your limited options meticulously, not when he’s literally crushing you with the weight of his body.

He at least manages to remain half conscious while you support him for the ten minutes it takes to walk to your apartment; cause god knows it would’ve been impossible for you to carry him there.

You struggle to pull out your keys from your purse and swing the door open, but once you do manage to drag him into your room and throw him on you bed, you stand there and stare at his limp body for a good 5 minutes as he lies on top of your fluffy duvet, fully dressed in winter apparel. Wait, is it better to take off his clothes? At least his coat right?

You get around to removing his Timberland boots, his coat, and his beanie only to find that his clothes underneath were damp. Shit, they’re still sweaty from him dancing. Why didn’t he take a shower and get changed before leaving the studio?

The questions continue forming in your head as you cursed under your breathe, trying to calm your nerves as you slowly remove his coat, sweatshirt, and eventually the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath.

Please don’t wake up and get the wrong idea…

Ugh, why am I acting like this is a crime? I’m just doing what needs to be done.

Stop it, Y/N, calm yourself. You’re making this a bigger deal than it actually is.

The internal monologue kept rolling as you stripped him down to his boxers, you blame it on your inherent habit of talking to yourself and overthinking. In a way it was a form of therapy, distracting your thoughts from the actions that your body was performing, and initially it worked, you had successfully convinced yourself that this was what any compassionate human being would do when presented with a sick person.

Nothing creepy or inappropriate or invasive.

But the minute your fingers come in contact with his heated skin-that was oh-so-freaking soft might you add, and your eyes landed on the gentle rising and fall of his chest as he breathes through marginally parted lips, you’re forced to swallow the saliva that has built up in your mouth. And it didn’t help that Jungkook’s abs looked more delicious than the tastiest of chocolates and the series of well-defined muscles on his chest, shoulder, and arms were making your mind go places it should most certainly not be allowed to go. Fucking hell.

He really wasn’t kidding about working out.

You’re able to finally breathe again after the deed of undressing him is done and Jungkook is wrapped tightly in your blanket, which will now probably smell like him for god knows how long you put off washing your sheets. He sleeps for a good 4 hours, in which you take the time to make some porridge, wash and dry his clothes, and change the dampened cloth you had placed on his forehead a good twenty times. You’re staring at the soft features of his face just as the slow fluttering of his eyelids startles you as he wakes up.

“W-wha…w-where?” He begins to murmur, barely having the energy to raise his head off the pillow and lazily look around the room.

“You had a fever and passed out” You begin explaining, feeling a bit tired after going through such a physically- and mentally exhausting event. “I brought you here because it was the closest place-er, because I didn’t know what else to do…” You trail off, waiting for him to respond.

His pupils land on you and the moment they do, the most relaxing of smiles washes over his expression.

“Thanks” He half whispers.

“I just did what needed to be done.” You voice the same words you had said to yourself a couple of hours ago.

There’s a momentary pause as Jungkook slowly sits up, only to find that he was naked under the blanket. His surprised expression is quickly replaced by a coy smile as licks his lips and clears his throat. “I see you’ve washed my clothes.” He says, eyeing the folded laundry placed at the foot of the bed with a playful tone in his voice.

“Oh…yeah…” You voice hitches a little as a powerful heat radiates to your cheeks. Of course he would notice right away. “I also made some porridge.” You quickly add, changing the subject and rushing towards the kitchen so he wouldn’t catch how embarrassed you were.

Jungkook laughs silently as he watches you dash off.

You could tell he was feeling much better as you watched him eat, seeing the color returning to his lips and checking that his body temperature had gone down.

“So about the way I acted back at the coffee shop…” Jungkook begins as he swallows the porridge and lets out a long exhale. “I didn’t mean to come off so-“

“Arrogant? Cocky?” You don’t know why you were interrupting him, but the words kind of just took matters into their own hands before your brain filter could give them a pass or fail.

He sighs. “Yeah. I’m just bad at this.” He hangs his head a little, avoiding direct eye contact as he stirs the contents in his bowl.

“So let me get this straight, you’re telling me you aren’t the smooth-talking player everyone thinks you are?” You half scoff, knowing this is probably just one of his little tricks to come off as innocent. You had seen the real him, or what you had thought to be the real him at least.

“Would you believe me if I told you that’s actually a result of practice?”

You raise your eyebrow. “Practice?”

“I’m not as smooth as everyone thinks,” He admits.

“Oh really?” You cock another brow.

“I thought it was obvious to you.”

You have a minor flashback to the time you had first questioned his social skills back when he almost ran you over the sidewalk a week ago. “Yeah, I’m just still trying to figure out who you really are. I mean, I obviously don’t really know you yet. ”

“To be honest no one really does…” He trails off, looking down at his hands.

“Not even your friends, or multiple girlfriends or whatever they are to you?”

“I see you’re a fan of monogamy.” He comments, avoiding having to answer your prior question.

“Yeah, you can put it that way.”

He laughs a little, shaking his head, and you think you can sense the look of disappointment that flashes across his features.

“Do you ever take into consideration how your soulmate would feel?” Your jaw clenches after the sentence escapes your lips. You don’t know why were you bringing this topic up, especially when you of all people should not have the right to talk about soulmates.

“Soulmates.” Jungkook scoffs, turning his head to face away from you.

“I’m assuming you haven’t found him or her yet, but when you do-“

“Look can we not talk about this?” Jungkook cuts in, voice interlaced with a bit of annoyance and perhaps even anger if you weren’t mistaken.

You flinch a little, an action that he notices and immediately regrets snapping at you.

“I’m sorry.” His face softens as he turns back to you with apologetic puppy eyes.

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t be telling you how to live your life anyways.” You didn’t know what had possessed you to bring such a sensitive topic up. You and Jungkook barely knew each other and you were already getting into his personal business. Way to go, Y/N. You mentally scold yourself for getting carried away.

“It’s just…I’m not a fan of the whole soulmate thing.” He mutters, taking another bite of porridge.

Of course, that should’ve been obvious enough.

“To be honest, I’m not either.” You admit. “I just…I don’t know. Forget I even brought it up.”

…

Winter break ended faster than you had anticipated, much to your powerless disappointment. It was a few days after the New Year had begun and classes were starting the very next Monday that you became conscious of just how swiftly time passes. You can’t say you were looking forward to going back to school, but at least you had a couple of classes you were looking forward to this semester.

Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, you didn’t see Jungkook after that fever incident when he thanked you one last time before leaving your apartment with clothes smelling like your laundry detergent. He had complimented the scent, but with someone as “bipolar” – the word you decided to refer to his multiple personalities as, as Jungkook, you couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or just fake nice. It had just become another addition to the hoard of other questions you had about him. Did he really want to be your friend or was he just trying to get in your pants? Was he a douche or was he some shy kid under the guise of an expert player? You didn’t know what to think or which side of him to trust, but you figured it didn’t matter because you wouldn’t have to see him again anyways.

But oh how wrong you were yet again.

Taehyung and Jimin come back from break the weekend before classes start, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss their bright and bubbly personalities lighting up your days. And of course the first thing they want to do to kick off the semester is go watch the new Avengers movie, it’s so predictable of them but that doesn’t keep you from acting exasperated at their “lame” suggestion.

“Really now? The new Avengers movie?” You cross your arms, looking back and forth from Taehyung to Jimin.

“You know we’re huge fans” Taehyung flashes you a boxy smile. “Oh come on, Y/N, we know you are too~.”

You roll your eyes, pretending like you were being forced to something you would’ve agreed to anyways.

Jimin giggles, slapping Taehyung playfully on the shoulder, and you’re almost tempted to make a gagging motion.

“It’ll be the 3 of us, just like old times.” Taehyung chirps.

You can’t help the smile that forms on your face at Taehyung’s words, but when your eyes trace over to Jimin you notice a look of guilt wash over his features.

“What’s the matter Chim?” You query concerned.

“So I may or may not have invited….ummm, ugh…J-Jungkook” He cringes as if he was about to receive a smack in the face.

“You what!?” Taehyung gasps.

Jimin laughs nervously, preparing to use his crescent shaped eye smile to get Taehyung to forgive him. “He recently agreed to be a part of a three member dance crew with me and Hoseok. Completing our dream of entering the spring dance competition. You know how long Hoseok and I have wanted this, don't you?” Jimin explains quickly, voice full of desperation.

Taehyung practically rolls his eyes 360 degrees. “And that my friend, is how the mouse gets caught in the cheese trap.” He shakes his head and turns to you for a look of confirmation.

“Wait, you guys all know each other?” You accuse with a sharp finger pointing from Jimin to Taehyung and back to Jimin, finally putting the pieces together.

“About that…” Taehyung begins. “We used to hang out at parties and stuff all the time, until Hoseok met Yoongi, and Seokjin met Namjoon, leaving only Jungkook who decided to go solo after that.”

“And it’s always been me and Hoseok’s dream to form a dance team with Jungkook called the 3J’s, but ever since he left the group and started dating a bunch of random girls, we kind of fell apart.” Jimin adds.

You swallow, finally viewing the picture in its entirety. “Hoseok and Yoongi, Seokjin and Namjoon, they’re all soulmates….” There it was again, the word you just seem to be unable to avoid. Taehyung and Jimin nod simultaneously, flashing you a sympathetic look.

“And I know it seems like I’m just letting go of the grudge I held against him because he agreed to join us again, but he seems different lately.” Jimin continues, inciting a skeptical look from both you and Taehyung, but there’s was nothing you could do now that Jimin’s already made up his mind.

“So you only invited him, right?” Taehyung inquires, just making sure there’re aren’t any more surprises.

“Jungkook and his plus one.” Jimin corrects, the statement making your heart fall to the pit of your stomach for reasons you claim are unknown to yourself. You knew he wouldn’t butt in on Taehyung and Jimin’s movie date without bringing an actual date himself, and yet you where somehow clutching on to the idea that maybe he take a break from being in fleeting relationships akin to that of fuck buddies.

“Oh come on Tae, you know Jungkook is rarely seen without at least one girl attached to his hip.” Jimin says. “He’s not the innocent child we knew before.”

“Ok guys, it’s fine.” You cut in. “Being the 5th wheel isn’t all that different from being the 3rd anyways.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but neither Jimin nor Taehyung laughs; they just throw you that sympathetic look you’ve gotten way to use to seeing.

The three of you wait for Jungkook- and whichever girl he was probably screwing now, at the Student Union so the five of you can walk to the city from there. You were listening to Taehyung and Jimin talk about how their break was, how their families are doing, and their plans for this summer (yeah already, and the semester technically hasn’t even started yet). Taehyung was in the middle of suggesting you guys go on a road trip/camping with the crew when he abruptly stops as you hear the footsteps of someone approach.

You turn to see who you suspected it was.

“Hey” Jungkook’s familiar voice cuts through the sounds of the other students in the background, making you tense up as you were reminded of the other times you’ve heard that voice.

He was dressed very casually, wearing a beanie to cover his hair except the bangs that lay flat against his forehead. There was something odd about his demeanor or what you couldn’t really place a finger on…until you realized…

He’s alone.

“So, uhh, where’s Rose?” Jimin asks, looking around and behind Jungkook to see if there was anyone there.

“She canceled,” He says, short, detached, and unbothered in the slightest.

“And you couldn’t find a replacement?” Taehyung raises his eyebrows disbelievingly.

“It was last minute.” Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your muted gazes.

“Ok, then are we ready to go?” Jimin gets up from his seat and flashes everyone a cheerful grin.

The fact that you haven't seen or spoken to Jungkook since you stripped him down naked and tended to his fever and the fact that Jungkook is clearly trying not to acknowledge your presence now doesn’t really sit well with you. If he’s going to be back to being buddies with Taehyung and Jimin, you’re going to have to force yourself to be on good terms with the guy.

You eye him suspiciously as he diverts his attention to the direction of the movie theater five blocks down. Jimin and Taehyung walk in front of the two of you, giggling in hushed whispers, pointing at the interesting objects displayed in the shop windows, forgetting that you and Jungkook were trailing awkwardly behind.

Somewhere in the space between skyscrapers and the muffled hum of car engines, you feel Jungkook’s hand brush against yours. It’s a light touch, the flutter of a feather drifting in the air, but it sends a tingle shooting up your arm and you swallow the saliva that has built up in your mouth.

You hear Jungkook clear his throat, and it was as if there were words bubbling up to his throat but ended up getting swallowing before they could be voiced.

The crowd of people was becoming denser as you neared the busier part of the city, it was hard not to be bumped by some random shoulder, or be squished closer and closer to Jungkook who was walking next to you. Taehyung and Jimin were far ahead now, and you could barely see the top of their head through the swarm of bodies.

“Um, is it ok if I hold your hand?” Jungkook murmurs, barely loud enough for you to hear.

You turn to see that he’s looking at you, waiting for you to either accept or reject him. You’re pretty sure your expression is reflecting how unprepared you were to face such a sudden request, and you’d be lying if you said that was an easy question to answer whether you said yes or no.

“Uh, you know, so we don’t get separated?” He adds in a significantly less confident tone.

You ponder over his statement again, wanting to dissect the expression on his own face so you could figure out what his motives are, but the innocent look in his eyes compels you to nod before your mind could stop yourself.

At your signal, he tentatively reaches over and takes your hand, unable to even make eye contact as he performs the deed because he was so nervous. Jungkook’s hand is surprisingly delicate and soft. You’re not exactly sure what you were expecting because you had never taken the time to imagine what his hands would feel like, but it’s much warmer than yours. And you’re sure he’s taking note of how cold your hand is because he proceeds to stuff your intertwined hands into his coat pocket. He doesn’t look at you for the remainder of the walk to the movie theater, but you can feel his fingers move, and tenderly rub your frozen digits in an attempt to warm them up. His firm grip is strong yet gentle, like he was afraid to hurt you but also didn’t ever want to let go.

You would also be lying if you said walking hand in hand with Jungkook for the first time didn’t feel strange, but it’d be a bigger lie to say you didn’t enjoy feeling so protected and safe for once in your life.

You’re so caught up in your dreamy thoughts that you don’t notice the bump in the sidewalk that you conveniently decide to trip on in that moment. It sends you tumbling forward, but Jungkook catches you just in time, right before you can fall face flat on the hard cement.

“You ok?” Jungkook turns to you with concern while he supports your upper body.

“Yeah, haha.” You try to laugh it off, but it sounds more forced than you intended. “I do that all the time.”

He chuckles silently, relaxing a little for the first time this evening. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here then.”

You open your mouth to respond, but your mind blanks for a millisecond.

“I-I mean, you know, keeping you from falling and stuff.” He quickly adds, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“T-Thanks” You murmur softly, trying to avoid looking at his flushing face. You hope that he can’t sense your own nervousness and the churning of butterflies in your stomach, because you know exactly why that feeling is there and you most certainly do not want to address it.

You can feel his hand still moving as the two of you continue to walk, gripping and releasing like he was gently kneading your hand, contemplating how to start a conversation that would loosen the tense atmosphere hovering over the two of you.

“So, uh, I know you’re not interested in going out with me, but if you ever need someone when you’re with Taehyung and Jimin, I’ll be happy to get you out of that 3rd wheel situation.” He suddenly says when the two of you were reaching the theater entrance.

You wonder if that’s the real reason he came today.

“Jungkook, look, I don’t want to complicate things between us-”

“I understand.” He interrupts before you can finish. “It’s just, I’ve been in that sort of position, and I really hated that feeling of tagging along as an extra. Please don’t think this is just me trying to get in your pants or anything or being fake to get you to do something you don’t want to. I-I just want to help, and I totally get the not wanting to make it awkward between us since our friend groups overlap, and you know, it’s just, ugh, I’m just so bad at this.” He lets out a long exhale knowing that he was ranting again, that habit of his when he gets hit with social anxiety and hasn’t planned a whole speech out to come off cool and composed.

You bite your lip, wanting to let him know what you were truly thinking. Even though his thoughts came out jumbled, you get what he’s saying and you’re shocked at how accurately he hit the spot. It was true. As much as you liked being alone, you did hate that feeling of being out of place when Jimin and Taehyung dragged you along to their “dates”, you have been in situations when you wished someone who just come and take your hand and tell you they’ll be there when you don’t want to be alone. And you finally realized why you were secretly so happy when Jungkook had come without a date. But you don’t get the chance to respond because the heat of the theater lobby was greeting you, and your first instinct is to quickly slip your hand out of Jungkook’s pocket before Jimin and Taehyung turn to wave you guys over.

“We got the tickets!” Taehyung announces.

“Hope you guys don’t mind sitting closer to the back.” Jimin adds. “We probably should’ve reserved seats because this place is packed.”

You shrug. “Fine with me.”

You quickly follow behind Jimin and Taehyung, trying to put off the thought of responding to Jungkook’s offer. You’re immensely thankful that the lighting in theater is dim because it was acting as a blanket to cover all of the untended issues you were choosing to run away from.

“Oh yeah, and our seats are not in the same row.” Taehyung whispers. “Umm, do you want to sit with me and Jimin with Jungkook or I could sit with Jungkook and-“

“Tae, you go ahead and sit with Jimin” You interrupt, knowing that he was just trying to be polite and was probably feeling bad about leaving you with Jungkook.

“You sure?” He says, looking up to eye Jungkook who was pretending he couldn’t hear the conversation.

You nod in confirmation.

…

Seokjin and Namjoon may not seem like a classic soulmate pairing to the untrained eye, but you’ve known the two of them long enough to recognize complementarity at its finest. Kim Seokjin is maternal, protective, and caring, while Kim Namjoon is a genius-born leader and total klutz hybrid.

Seokjin is a complete jokester, always has been, and anyone who wasn’t familiar with his eccentric personality would think Namjoon was the older one in the relationship. But oh how wrong they would be, because despite always emphasizing his age with anyone younger than him, Seokjin has always treated Namjoon as his equal, if not superior. And everyone knew they were meant to be the moment he refrained himself from jumping out of his pants when Namjoon accidentally addressed him informally. It was actually quite a life defining moment.

They now live comfortably in a newly constructed apartment complex downtown, and have invited you, Jimin, and Taehyung over for “afternoon tea”. It honestly did not make any sense to you, but it had something to do with Seokjin wanting to test out the housewife life just for kicks before heading off to grad school.

“I don’t get why Y/N and Jungkook can’t just get together.” Seokjin blurts out, making you jolt at the sound of your name and Jungkook’s being used in the same sentence.

The five of you were currently gathered in their cleanly organized living room, enjoying freshly brewed tea and baked goods courtesy of none other than Kim Seokjin.

“You know that’s not how it works,” Namjoon reminds him, before you can come up with a similar retort.

“He clearly doesn’t care about staying faithful to his soulmate.” Seokjin sighs. “He’s too feisty. I blame it on his competitive nature. I told him to wait for the time to come, but that boy has no patience.”

“Hyung, I think it’s better not to talk about that when, you know” Taehyung gestures to you not-so-subtly.

“Oh sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to-“

“Guys, how many times do I have to say that I’m over it?” You try and convince them that you’re fine with not knowing your soulmate and they don’t have to act like they’re walking on needles when they bring up the topic in front of you.

“Who is Jungkook’s soulmate anyways? Has he told you guys their name?” Jimin suddenly asks.

“I thought he told you guys.” Seokjin responds raising both his eyebrows. “He’s never bothered to tell us.”

“He hasn’t told any of us?” Taehyung gasps.

“Let the boy have his privacy.” Namjoon butts in. “I’m sure we’ll all know once that person shows up.”

There’s a moment of prolonged pause before Namjoon suddenly speaks again.

“So, Y/N, not to be nosy or anything, but what exactly happened to your, ugh, soulmate?”

“Oh right, I haven’t told you yet” You respond, realizing Namjoon has no idea about the line tattooed on your wrist. He probably thought you just hadn’t met them yet. “My soulmates name didn’t really show up when I was eighteen.”

He throws you a startled look. “Like there’s nothing there?”

You roll up your sleeve and show him the faint marking that had already grown almost invisible.

“Ahh, the infamous horizontal line.”

Your eyes widen. “You’ve seen this before?”

He chuckles lightly. “Not until now.” He admits, gesturing at your wrist. “But I’ve heard about how some people don’t get names but different markings instead.” He shakes his head. “They are very rare, and there’s still a lot that is unknown about what they mean, but I found an old book at a library once that explained some of the markings that have shown up throughout history.”

You ears perk up. “Did it say anything about what a line means?” You feel your heart beat quicken as you wait for the older male to respond.

“Well…” He begins, rubbing his hands together and preparing his pending monologue. “It talked about a couple of the more common markings. Like for example, an X meaning your soulmate has died before you met them, a circle for soulmates who will not meet in this life but another, and a triangle for people who have soulmates that have someone else’s name on their wrist and not theirs….” He sighs. “As for a line like yours….”

You lean in closer because his voice suddenly grew soft.

“…the book said that it was the rarest of all the symbols that have been studied so far.” He pauses again. “It means… you don’t have a soulmate.” The last sentence almost comes out inaudible, and you aren’t quite sure if it’s because Namjoon’s voice was so hushed or because your eardrums feel like they were suddenly plunged underwater.

And maybe it was just because you were still clutching onto that nonexistent sliver of hope that a name would eventually appear, or that your soulmate would have the same marking as you and it would mean you found them, but all of that vanished with Namjoon’s words. The other markings are undoubtedly tragic, heartbreakingly so, but in some twisted way that could even come off as romantic depending on how one chose to view it, like those famous tales of star-crossed lovers or sad endings that are so meaningful because of the beautiful love that once was or could have been. But none of that was applicable in your case. It’s like you were torn away from all of that, not even privileged enough to feel the kind of gnawing pain that unforgettable or unrequited love leaves behind because what you are faced with is not even the thought of that red string of fate being cut or disappearing because now you’ve come to the realization that it never even existed in the first place.

You will always be reaching for something that is not there and never will be.

“Y/N, are you ok?” The voice of Jimin cuts through your isolated thoughts.

Breaking away from your reverie, you don’t have a choice but to force yourself back into reality and tell him you’re fine. Because truthfully, you are, and although it may seem unfair at times, you have already come to terms with your destiny, so knowing the meaning behind the rare marking on your wrist should not change that aforementioned acceptance.

...right?

…

On the Monday that classes officially begin, you run into Jungkook again.

You were starting to think your frequent run-ins with the younger male are too odd to be simple coincidences, but then you realize this was strictly only the second (or third?) time it’s been unplanned. But if that wasn’t enough evidence, the way he tries to pretend he hasn’t seen you and attempts to play it off as if the two of you were complete strangers tells you that he was not expecting to see your face among the crowd of swarming students. You watch in amusement as he looks everywhere but in the direction of you, even trying to use his scarf to cover his face.

“Jungkook!”

His eyes widen at the sound of your voice calling his name.

“I swear I’m not a stalker” is the first thing he blurts out of his mouth.

You giggle at how endearing he looks as he waits for you to charge him with a felony. “It’s fine. Coincidence, right?”

“Y-yeah, cause you know, I was walking to class and then… you… and I-I…yeah.” He smiles shyly, scratching the back of his neck.

You smile before looking down at your phone and notice that your first lecture starts in less than 5 minutes. “Well, I better get going. Don’t want to be late!” You turn to leave, but notice that he’s not making a motion to do the same. Instead, he’s just standing there, looking around like he didn’t have a class to catch.

“Ok, don’t tell me it’s because you don’t want to walk the same way again.” You look at him mischievously, crossing your arms and patiently waiting for his response.

“Would you believe me if I said it is?” He almost sounds timid, like he was afraid you were going to get angry with him for being annoying or bothersome.

“Unbelievable.” You sigh, shaking your head but unable to contain the grin that peeks through your incredulous expression. “What class are you headed to?”

“Zoology”

Your jaw drops. “No way.”

Jungkook looks at you confused.

“Me too.” You cannot believe this is actually happening. “But why are taking Zoology!?” You ask the question as if it’s something he shouldn’t be doing when in fact it should be the other way around, but you were in too much of a shock to think clearly.

Jungkook cocks a brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking why you’re taking a freshman class?”

You can feel your face heat up. “I-I” Why the hell were you getting nervous now? “I put off finishing the my last life sciences requirement, and I didn’t want to take human anatomy and physiology because those are two separate courses.”

“Makes sense” Jungkook bobs his head in understanding, not wording another question as the two of you scramble into the lecture hall just in the nick of time.

...

It becomes something of the norm, a routine if you will, for the next few weeks verging on months. Namely you and Jungkook showing up at 8am lecture occasionally together, other times separately. Often times he gets there before you, and less frequently, you get there before him, but whatever the case you make it a habit to try and bring two cups of coffee when you get the chance to stop by the cafe so neither of you end up falling asleep half way through. He says he’s not a morning person, but he always seems to arrive in class earlier than you on most days, saving you a seat next to him with his backpack that he removes upon your entrance.

You have to admit that in the beginning it was still a bit awkward, to see him every other day, bright and early in the morning, especially on the days you hit the snooze button one to many times and have to skip putting on makeup. You swear Jungkook is pretending when he acts like he doesn’t notice your dark eye bags and far from flawless skin, but you know he does and just chooses not to address why you look like you just rolled out of bed (or got ran over by a semi).

“Oh my god. I thought I was going to be late!” You huff as you settle down in the seat next to him.

“You know you could’ve just copied my notes right?” He grins, sliding over a pen and a sheet of blank paper he tears out of his notebook because he already knows you forgot in your frenzy to get to class.

“True” You respond casually, taking the stationary from him with gratitude. “But it’s not the same.”

It really isn’t, but that’s not genuinely the reason you not only haven’t skipped lecture all semester but have also consistently been on time, even in an impossible crunch. And as reluctant as you are to admit it, you secretly know you’re going because you know he’s going to be there waiting for you. Because let’s be real, you’ve skipped your fair share of classes in the past 3 years, and Zoology would not have been an exception had it not been for a certain Jeon Jungkook. You got used to counting on the fact that seeing him would put you in a good mood for the rest of the day, and you’re almost sure he’d be at least slightly disappointed if you didn’t show up one day. That kind of disappointment is not something you want to be held responsible for, not when his smiles makes his eyes crinkle in the corners and your heart feel all warm and fuzzy.

So despite thinking it was maybe a bad idea to put off a freshman course until your junior year, you soon come to realize you’re more than grateful you did because you also don’t think you would’ve survived through dissections without Jungkook as your lab partner.

“That freaking grasshopper was scary as fuck.” You comment as the two of you walk out of lab for the umpteenth time.

Jungkook laughs, making that signature cackling noise you’ve come to recognize from a mile away. “It was dead though.” He points out.

“My statement holds.” You shiver at the thought of how large it was, and how terrifying it looked when you were dissecting it. You hated bugs with a passion, and it didn’t matter that it was a lifeless black corpse, prior green color completely drained from being soaked in embalming fluid for god knows how long. “And it smelled horrible.”

“Not as bad as that dead bird.” Jungkook wrinkles his nose cutely.

“I think that’s only because the formaldehyde didn’t penetrate deep enough into the breast tissue. It smelled rotten.” You think back to how foul the specimen smelled, and mimic Jungkook’s nose scrunch.

“Still. I’ll never look at chicken the same way again.”

...

The first half of the semester passes by at half the speed of light. You and Jungkook see each other in class and lab three days a week and occasionally on the weekends when you have to study for an exam. He’s boyish and funny, and you learn that he’s also really competitive because he goes out of his way to memorize entire taxonomies just to beat you in study games.

“How did you get another hundred?!” You stare, wide-eyed and dumbfounded at his test score. “Unbelievable.” You can’t even ignore the hint of jealousy that’s nipping at your belly.

He shrugs pretending like he did know it was because of his competitive nature and your suggestion to make studying a game of sorts.

“And you’re not even going to thank me?” You inquire, crossing your arms and waiting to hear a declaration of gratitude from him.

“For what?” He tilts his head innocently, still playing the oblivious bystander.

You frown. “Stop pretending like you would’ve set the curve had it not been for the game I came up with.”

There’s a pause as he pretends to ponder over the statement. “You’re right” He smirks. “I wouldn’t have. Thank you…Noona.”

His emphasis on that last word makes you blush like crazy, sinking down into your scarf to hide the blossoming roses. Did he seriously just?!

Sometimes you forget that you’re still older than him because he constantly makes it a point to act like age doesn’t matter. But it’s always when you least expect it, that he chooses just the right words to make your heart pound faster than it should. The audacity.

“Well, I’m off to my next class! ” You inform abruptly.

Jungkook smiles as you hastily turn away, acting like you were going to be late, when you knew that he knew it didn’t start until the next hour. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” He yells across the widening distance between the two of you.

“Yup!” You shout back as you almost half sprint through the lawn.

In all honesty, you didn’t think a lame class like Zoology would end up being your favorite class of the semester, in fact, you were actually expecting to hate it with a passion, but something about getting to joke around with Jungkook put a smile on your face on those mornings when it was hard to get out of bed, and that’s more than you could’ve asked for.

…

A couple of days before Spring Break, Yoongi invites everyone to his “annual celebration”. It’s essentially just a small get together that he hosts at his parents’ mansion while they are out of town, so it’s not anything wild, particularly since Yoongi’s parents are a bit anal about keeping the place spotless and Yoongi himself is not a fan of big parties.

This is the first year you’ve been invited, or more accurately Taehyung and Jimin invited you because you don’t actually know Yoongi all that well, but friends of friends are usually forced to get along. That said, you’re not actually going because the they dragged you along for once. You’re going because Jungkook had asked you to go with him a few days before the inseparable pair even brought it up.

It went down something like:

“S-so uhh, a friend of mine…uh, Yoongi, is having this p-party…and I w-was wonder if maybe you want to…?”

“Go with you?” You finish the sentence for him, not even bothering to hide the amused smile that stretches across your face.

The way he still gets choked up by his nerves has always been charming in it’s own unique way, especially when contrasted to the manner you’ve witnessed him joke about anything and everything at this point. So of course you agree, forgetting about the astonished looks on all of your friends’ faces when you walk in to Yoongi’s house with Jeon Jungkook at your side.

Yoongi’s expression isn’t all that different from the way he looks bored 99% of the time. You’ve only been acquainted with the guy on a couple of rare occasions, but according to Jimin, he has quite the natural poker face.

Seokjin and Namjoon have somewhat of a pair of knowing smiles plastered on their faces, and you’re first thought is, you don’t want them to get the wrong idea. You know exactly what they are thinking, and you didn’t want them to jump to any conclusions.

Hoseok’s face is perhaps the most startled. His mouth forms a perfect “o” as his pupils dart from you to Jungkook and back to you.

“Jungkookie!” He suddenly shouts as he snaps out of his trance and runs up to the two of you still standing in the door way. He flings an arm around Yoongi who was still holding the door open as you and Jungkook proceed to remove your shoes at the entrance.

“Hyung!” Jungkook greets with a nod as the older male pats him on the shoulder.

“And this…is Y/N, right?” You look up and notice that Hoseok is now looking at you with a smile brighter than the sun. You’re slightly pleased that he still remembers you from the coffee shop incident a couple months ago.

You nod, returning a smile of your own.

He points at Jungkook and then back at you. “Are you guys finally…?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to respond, but you beat him to it.

“We’re just in the same class this semester.” Even as you hear your own response, you can’t believe it flew out of your mouth so quickly. You see Jungkook’s face drop ever so slightly from the corner of your eye, and something in your chest clenches.

You don’t really know what you and Jungkook are because you’re obviously not together in the traditional sense. You’re just friends…classmates…lab partners…or maybe more, you don’t really know. You do, however, know that you don’t want to set yourself up for getting hurt, and if that means being suspended in this ambiguous state with Jungkook, then maybe it’s better to keep it that way.

It’d be a lie to say you never thought about being more than friends, but it’s only a fleeting thought you sweep to the back of your mind whenever you’re reminded of that sting on your wrist. Seldom do you ponder over the idea of being more than friends with anyone, especially not when you know it’ll only be a fling for them before they find their destined soulmate, and you are definitely not one to go against the laws of the universe.

“I see” Hoseok nods in mild disappointment.

“Well, help yourselves to drinks and snacks” Yoongi cuts in. You had almost forgotten he was still there because he had been silent for so long.

“Guys let’s sing!” Taehyung suddenly pipes up.

“Oh god” You hear Namjoon groan in the background, but it doesn’t stop Taehyung and Jimin from giggling like little kids as they hurriedly set up the karaoke system.

It was not a surprise that they would end up being on a team. You’ve always known they were naturally talented singers, and you’ve witnessed their angelic voices first ear on more occasions than one. They know they’re good, so of course they end up going first and getting a solid 95%.

“You guys do this just to make us look bad right?” Yoongi sighs as he takes the mic Jimin conveniently hands him with a playful smile.

“No problem. We’ve got this.” Hoseok loosens his shoulders confidently and smirks. For the few seconds before the duet open their mouths, you’re almost led to believe they might give the reigning champions a run for their money. That is, until the song actually begins and you’re almost tempted to cover your ears.

It’s safe to say Hoseok and Yoongi don’t even try to stay on key. They’re hitting all the wrong notes, and they howl at the top of their lungs as if singing louder will hide their cracking voices.

“You’re turn” Hoseok says to Namjoon as the song ends.

“And don’t even try to let Seokjin do all the singing.” Yoongi adds.

Namjoon starts three pitches lower than he actually should, and suddenly goes up three pitches higher. It makes you wonder if he’s just doing it on purpose or if he’s just vocally challenged. Seokjin, however, has one of the most soothing voices you’ve ever heard, but you’re not allowed to enjoy it for long before it’s you and Jungkook’s turn.

You’re nervous to say the least, but Jungkook flashes you a reassuring smile that quells your anxiety. You’ve never been told you were a bad singer, but you weren’t amazing either and certainly nowhere near the level of Taehyung and Jimin.

When the song begins you start out softly, almost at an inaudible volume due to the fear of singing on the wrong key or messing up the lyrics, but you hear a voice so clear and calming, twirling along the melody like colorful ribbons, that you question if they accidentally forgot to turn off the original singer’s voice. You glance around but detect that no one is making a move to correct what you assumed to be a mistake, and then it hits you that it’s Jungkook. You’re so at loss for words that you’ve stopped singing completely, slowly turning your head to look at the male sitting next to you in awe. His eyes were closed, and he was fully immersed in the song like a lonely man serenading his lover. You’re mouth hangs slightly ajar, and you barely comprehend the ending of the song when his eyes flutter open to meet yours.

“As expected” Jimin sighs at the perfect score flashing on the screen.

Jungkook clears his throat and diverts his eyes the same time you do.

“Well, I kind of stopped singing like 10 seconds into the song.” You admit embarrassingly, even though it was probably obvious to everyone in the room.

“It’s ok, Y/N, it’s just for fun anyways.” Taehyung hops up to grab the mic from Jungkook. “Who’s ready for round 2?”

A series of reluctant groans is heard from Yoongi and Hoseok before Namjoon comes up with a negotiation.

“Let us rap and you’ve got a deal,” Namjoon requests, to which Taehyung and Jimin both permit, decreeing it “only fair in the spirit of the game”.

...

A couple hours later, every one is either passed out on the couch or still drunkenly singing. Yoongi’s house is more spacious than you had imagined, so you decide to have a look around and grab a breath of fresh air. One of the guest bedrooms has a nice balcony overlooking the mountainside, so you decide to do some stargazing or viewing of the enthralling cityscape in the distance. It’s the perfect setting for you to contemplate life the way you always do when you’re feeling that need for solitude.

It was a clear night, the moon was hanging on the dark indigo canvas, looming over the treetops that are partially covering the miniature skyscrapers as seen from afar. The breeze is a bit chilly, but not unbearable and the muted sounds of the night are serene and sedative.

Just as you were watching a dark cloud drift across the starry expanse, you hear a faint click and the opening of the sliding door behind you.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were here.” Jungkook’s voice is apologetic and soft.

“It’s ok, I just thought I’d get some fresh air.” You smile, hoping that the moonlight is bright enough for him to see that you’re not bothered by his interruption in the slightest.

He nods before sluggishly turning to leave.

“Jungkook, wait” You stop him before he steps back inside. “Do you want to talk for a bit?”

A surprised expression sweeps across his face, but just as quickly as it appeared it’s washed away as he approaches you with a relieved smile.

“Things were getting pretty crazy back there.” Jungkook chuckles weakly, trying to lighten up the stuffy atmosphere hovering over the two of you. “They’re all passed out now.”

“Yeah, I had no idea Karaoke could be that intense.”

“Haha, yea. Today was actually tame compared to some other instances.”

You grin, thinking about how hilarious Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon were. “You’re really good at singing.” You comment, not meeting his eye but somehow able to see how wide they’re probably opened right now.

“T-thanks” He clears his throat and swallows. “I’ve always loved singing. I practiced only when I was alone, which used to be all the time, so I guess that explains why I got good at it. ”

“Did you ever feel lonely?” It was more of a test rather than a question. You just wanted to hear his opinion on the matter, the one topic you seem to ponder over all the damn time whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. And it somehow always ends up resulting in you convincing yourself that you’re not lonely at all, and that you simply enjoy being alone.

You still believe it’s indisputably true.

Jungkook doesn’t respond right away, taking the time to really think about your rather impulsive inquiry. He turns his attention to you, and you really don’t have a choice but to maintain eye contact because you had initiated the question and he was relaying an answer.

“Sometimes I feel like I can have all the people in the world and still feel lonely.”

Your breathing slows to a stand still.

“And it’s those times when I’m alone that I feel like I’m with the perfect amount of company. It’s like I can only win by battling lonely with lonely. ” He chuckles. “Ugh, I don’t know what I’m saying anymore.” He drops his gaze, and if it weren’t for the darkness you would probably be able to see the color drenching his features.

You cautiously take a few steps forward, making sure not to startle him. “How do you feel now?”

You can see his lip part as he looks back up at you who is now only inches away from his face. Lifting a tentative hand, you reach up to cup his soft cheek, feeling the warmth of his tender skin in the center of your palm. It’s the first time you’ve examined him from such proximity, the curvature of his nose, the slight pout of his lip, and his eyes- a pair of crystal clear orbs that are shimmering under the moonlight, glittering with the light of a thousand stars.

Moving forward, you can sense his hesitation, but he doesn’t inch back. Instead he leans in closer, lifting his own hand to grab your wrist and pull you towards him until your bodies were almost in contact.

And then his lips are melting onto yours.

Your eyes are closed but you can feel him. You can feel the way he releases his grip of your wrist as he uses both hands to caress your face. Your own hold on his cheek is broken as you lose yourself to the sensation of his soothing lips enveloping yours, motions slowly paced with a trained patience that tells you he’s still afraid. Initially, it’s frustratingly delicate, the way he holds back as if you would suddenly pull away if he were too urgent- too forceful, but gradually the momentum picks up and the swirling ways of his tongue incites you to press your body against his, erasing any thought of turning back, like an object hitting escape velocity setting off on its way to the end of the universe.

He supports you against the sliding glass door as he continues to drink you in; hands clasped around your hips as you hastily reach backwards and slide the door open so the both of you can stumble back inside. You fall onto the bed, gasping for air as he cages you underneath him.

“Are you sure about this?” He whispers in between breaths as he searches for the answer in your eyes.

“Positive” You answer with a confidence you weren’t aware you had, but you were ready to finally give in to that desire buried deep within your heart, the one you’ve ignored all this time because you too, were afraid.

He nods gently before connecting his lips with yours once more, working his way down your neck and igniting a flame in your stomach. His hands begin roaming parts of your body that you didn’t think he had the guts to explore, and it makes you question if he’s just as nervous as you are or if you were perhaps analyzing this situation more than you should. Your thoughts are racing as he tugs your pants down, coming back up after he does and taking your lips into his once more. You falteringly start to unbutton his shirt, but it so painstakingly sloppy that he lifts a hand to stop you after only two buttons, pausing to stand up and throw it off completely instead. You can feel your readiness increase as you eye his toned torso, the one you’ve had unspeakable thoughts of since the day you tended to his fever.

His eyes trace along your own bare figure, laid on the bed with no protective barrier, nothing to hide any of your self-proclaimed flaws, and that’s when you’re hit with an instant of vulnerability right before he leans back on top of you. He dips his hand under your panties, an action that causes you to emit a loud gasp and quickly stretch down to halt him, clutching on his arm a little tighter than you intended.

He freezes in place. “Do you want to stop?” He questions in concern, searching for a signal within your eyes.

You shake your head. “Sorry, I panicked.” You murmur, feeling even more heat rise to your face.

He flashes you a faint half smile, giving you a light nod as he proceeds to carefully slide two fingers between your already moistened folds. He plunges them in and out, wiggling in fluid motions, and using his thumb to rub your clitoris in small circular drawings, sensually spreading the fluid that is being released by your arousal. You feel the knot in your lower abdomen tighten, and it’s only emphasized by Jungkook’s own stifled breathing as he continues to dust tiny kisses down your neck to your exposed chest.

“J-Jungkook” You moan rather timidly as he stops to look back up at your pleading eyes. It was embarrassing to admit it, but you couldn’t wait much longer. You needed to feel more of him inside of you. You wanted him to fill that physical hollowness, even if it was only going to be temporary.

He somehow understands what you want without you having to state it explicitly, and you’re relieved when you see him unzipping his jeans, the crotch area of which was already giving away his own unhindered arousal.

“Are you ready?” He voices in a rich timbre, making an excited shudder run down your spine. You nod, straddling him by the waist.

He leans down to leave one last peck on your lips before he begins to enter you, sinking his length into your taut entrance. You can hear a guttural moan emanate from his throat as a reaction to how tight you actually are and how good you’re making him feel. Each of his movements is restrained but contain a trace of primal hunger that leaves you wanting more as he thrusts in and out of you after you’ve adjusted to his girth.

Never once did he lose himself in his own pleasure and forget to tend to your needs, making sure to read every little change in expression, every subtle jerk that maybe meant his movement had hurt you. You think Jungkook’s determined gaze is deceivingly sweet and misleadingly comforting because it’s erasing all of the doubt that you don’t actually have a soulmate, all of the invasive thoughts that you don’t deserve to be loved. It’s wiping away every last tear you’ve cried in the past, when you were lost and had to tell yourself that you’re fine amidst the hidden pain. Jungkook’s dazzling eyes are telling you that he will cherish you for the rest of his life, and despite the skepticism that all of this may be a dream, in that moment, you allow yourself to believe it’s real.

“Jungkook, that feels so good” You reassure him as you throw your head back against the pillow, prompting him to speed up and eliciting a louder cry to escape your lips.

His palm rises to hold your face because he didn’t think his gaze was enough to capture how beautiful you are to him, how much you’ve meant to him all this time. And in that momentary flickering, you can see the welling of his eyes, the gathering of tears that make his obsidian irises gleam with an insurmountable volume of stardust. It brings you to a transitory calm in the heat of the moment, a fleeting pause before the burning desire comes flooding back and you can feel yourself nearing the brink. You catch a glimpse of his eye crinkles as he squeezes them shut in pleasure, biting his lip and trying to delay his release. But another moan from you sends him hurling towards the edge with you chasing after him only seconds later. The last thrust drains him of all energy as he falls on top of you, chest rising and falling in rhythm with yours as everything else dissipates.

That feeling of your tangled bodies finding each other in this sea of isolation is filling the all the spaces that were once left empty. You make an effort to remember the warmth of his body, the scent of his hair, and the dull vibration of his pulsating member still inside of you, but you’re mind is too foggy to do so. Jungkook slowly rolls off of you, shifting into a position where he’s cradling you with his torso before drifting into the deep depths of slumber.

...

Hours pass before you wake up to the dim glow of the moonlight seeping in through the opened curtains. The male next to you is still sound asleep, breathing peacefully through parted lips. You swallow the lump in your throat as you sit up, making sure you cause the bed to move as little as possible as to not wake Jungkook up. Cautiously you stand up, tug on your clothes, and tiptoe over to the door, forcing yourself to not look back at his sleeping form.

He stirs awake, sensing your intent to leave, but just as you were about to turn the doorknob and step out of the room, you hear him whimper faintly.

You freeze in place, dropping the hand that you had lifted to twist the doorknob. It was as if the planet had stopped revolving and the surroundings had frozen in time. You turn back to Jungkook, the boy lying alone in the bed that seemed too big for how small he looked in that moment, and something in your chest constricts, robbing the air from your lungs.

“Please, don’t leave me.” He whispers pleadingly, with glossy eyes that contain entire galaxies, star systems that you cannot even dream of reaching, and looking into them in that infinitesimal second, you realize that he is, indeed, not your home.

He is not the comfort of a place that you ache to return to at the end of time and are capable of doing so, the destination every wanderer will eventually conclude their seemingly never-ending journeys. No, Jungkook is not your home. He is your hiraeth, something that does not exist in this tangible realm. He is that place that you will never be able to grasp because it is not actually there, it’s not real and never will be, but your heart will continuously chase after it anyways.

So you don’t leave him.

You stay.

…

“Oh come on Y/N, we’ve been planning this for months!” Taehyung exasperates, reminding you that he and Jimin have been planning this summer road trip since the begging of the year.

Of course you still remember. How could you possibly forget?

“It wouldn’t be the same without you and Jungkook” Jimin insists, almost in a whining tone as he nudges your shoulder.

You weren’t planning on rejecting their offer anyways. You just wanted to see their genuine reactions to you pretending to be on the fence, being a tease and all. In reality, you loved road trips, camping, and travelling the country. You can practically already see the beautiful scenery that Jungkook will capture on camera, as you had learned of his love of photography and filmmaking not too long ago.

The image of his smiling face pops up in your mind, making you smile fondly before turning back to Taehyung and Jimin.

“Guys, we’re obviously going” You roll your eyes playfully as identical looks of relief wash across both of their faces simultaneously.

You liked the way they accepted your relationship with Jungkook, how seamlessly it blended in to your friend group dynamic, with virtually no objections or awkward feelings. It was like everything had finally fallen into place.

And maybe they were all still concerned for when Jungkook actually finds his soulmate, still wary of the day he might leave you for someone else, the precise thing that had held you back from accepting him for so long. But you somehow find yourself dwelling over these fears less and less as time passes, because Jungkook makes you feel courageous. He renders you strong enough to believe that everything will be ok in the end no matter what happens, and for now, that’s more than enough.

...

It was the end of spring semester when you receive a text from Jungkook telling you there was something important he wanted to say to you in person. He had just messaged you about meeting him by the duck pond near campus, the place students liked to read under willow trees and come to feed their expired bread to the variety of bird species in the area. The blossoming spring was a perfect setting to take a nice walk outside and enjoy the mild weather, but you find yourself racing down the sidewalk because you were already twenty minutes late.

“Y/N?”

“Jungkook, sorry I’m late. I had to turn in my thesis paper last minute, that crazy professor wanted a hard copy. Like what century is he living in?” You shake your head, still trying to catch your breath.

“No worries. I just got here myself.”

You eye his half eaten granola bar, and the rest of the crumpled wrappers he was squeezing within his palms. Jungkook was either a fast eater or he was lying to make you feel better for being nearly half an hour late.

You barely hold back the urge to swoop down and hug him dearly. “So what did you want to tell me?” You query instead, sitting down on the patch of grass next to him, dropping your backpack and leaning next to him.

“I-I, ummm…”

“Or did you just want to see me?” You help him out; completely familiar with the way he gets too nervous to form coherent thoughts at times.

“Yeah, I really did.” He sighs, sitting up more to make room for you to rest your head against his chest as he leaned against the tree.

A moment of silence passes as the two of you gaze out at the pond, ducks swimming in sync and the occasional elegant swan making its way across the water.

“I use to come here a lot by myself.” You say, eyes still focused on the way the warm breeze causes the droopy branches of the willow trees lining the pond to sweep along the water’s surface. “I enjoyed my time alone, and although I’m reluctant to admit this even to myself, the reason I was so obsessed with solitude was because it made me feel like I was alongside someone I really wanted to be with.” You chuckle, realizing you sounded like you were spewing nonsense. “Sorry, I’m not making any sense am I?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond right away, but you know he’s thinking about something from the way he twirls his fingers in your hair, separating the silky strands and taking his time to ponder over your words. “No, I get it.” He voices. “That feeling of always thinking about someone even if that person isn’t real. So we never feel lonely even when we are alone.”

“Wow, that’s way better than I could’ve described it.”

You feel his body shift slightly as he wraps his arm around your shoulder a little tighter, and you can’t help but reflect on the fact that the sensation of being with Jungkook felt almost exactly like the alone times you treasured so much. As impossible as it sounds, it’s like he was somehow always with you disguised as that person who isn’t real or maybe it’s the other way around.

“So there actually is something I wanted to tell you today, and I’m really not sure if this is right time or if I should just wait because I might just be messing things up by saying this to you and I’m so nervous right now- god, I’m never going to be good at this am I?” He closes his eyes and sighs deeply, making you giggle at his flustered state. Truthfully, you’ll always find it extremely endearing, and you wished he wasn’t so hard on himself.

“Jungkook, it’s ok. Just tell me, I’m all ears.” You reassure him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and being able to hear the rapid pounding of his heart as you nuzzled against his chest.

“I love you.” He says, voice so soft and airy that it was almost carried away by the wind before it could make it’s way to you ear.

Your initial reaction is not of disbelief or skepticism because you somewhat already knew about his feelings for you. And it wasn’t because he had already gotten in your pants and made love to you and it also wasn’t a deceiving result of you own feelings for him. Jungkook had made you feel special with his nonverbal gestures and shy actions for a long time coming, even when he was pretending to be a douchebag and acting unlike his real self to impress the people around him. It was always clear to you that he had placed you somewhere deep within his heart with his showing of his vulnerable side and the seeping of his true thoughts that he only revealed to you. But the weight of the actual words that escaped his lips just now comes as a slow swelling of your heart and makes a home in widening smile gradually stretching across your features.

“I love you too, Jungkook.” You whisper back, hugging him just a tad bit tighter, even though you knew he would never disappear.

It’s astonishing how much importance you used to put on the concept of finding a soulmate, that one person who was meant for you and promised to make you feel whole. You’ve come to learn over time that soulmates are not the final destination; your other half is not the ultimate goal in life or the only window to happiness and security, because in the end, those things are only constructs of your mind and ways that dictate how you ultimately perceive your own reality. Everyone is on this endless journey in search of that which cannot be found in this world or even the next, discovering consolation and solace in the spaces created by things we wished were there to fill the void.

Jungkook may not be your soulmate, but he’s the closest thing in this universe to that which your heart yearns for, and in a way it makes him mean so much more to you than a destined soulmate or an definitive home.

“So, this might make me sound grossly hypocritical, but I never actually received a soulmate.” You confess as you tilt your head up to read his reaction to your statement.

“What do you mean?” He questions, sitting up so he can look into your eyes because he truly cared, and he could tell just by the hesitation and tone of your voice that this was something you were reluctant to share but were doing so because you felt that it was the right time.

You flash him a faint smile before fiddling with your sleeve, biting your bottom lip as extend your upturned wrist towards him. There’s no hue of surprise washing over his face, or any kind of shocked response flickering past his irises for that matter. He just stares down at the horizontal line that you’ve put in the utmost effort to conceal ever since the fateful day it showed up on the tender skin of your wrist with a fondness that you don’t really understand.

“Jungkook?” You whisper, afraid that you might’ve scared him or made him change his mind about you.

He doesn’t respond vocally, still gazing at the exposed skin, pale and raw from the lack of exposure to sunlight over the years. He cautiously lifts his hand to place on your wrist, rubbing the area gently with the caressing touches of his quivering fingertips. You see his eyelids flutter up to glance at you momentarily with glistening eyes and the faintest of smiles. He doesn’t say anything, but instead turns his own arm over, slowly lifting the sleeve of his shirt cuff.

And beneath the fabric that is filtering away the harshness of the world is a marking that almost stops time:

An identical black horizontal line, matching the very one tattooed on your own wrist.

...

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bangtan bookclub #btswriters #armiesnet #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #bts soulmate au #jungkook x reader

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roscoexsykes-blog · 6 years

Text

Unplanned Surprises || Roscita

Summary: Roscoe and Rita take a trip to the hospital in order to figure out the cause behind Rita’s continual sickness, and end up finding out the problem is a bit more than they bargained for.

Warnings: Talks of pregnancy, minor talks of drug use/substance abuse, and minimal mentions of abortion, needles/doctor things. Pretttttttttty long.

Timestamp: September 17th, 2018

@theycallme-rita

RITA:

Ever since she’d gotten back home things had been…. not right. Of course it was easy to put it all off as getting back to normal after being stuck in town hall for over a week and for experiencing the most vivid dream she’d had to date. It only made sense. The whole strange dystopian dream might not have been real but it didn’t stop those images from coming to the forefront of her mind any time she heard a loud noise or closed her eyes. So she didn’t sleep often, had sometimes violent mood swings, and couldn’t stand leaving the house. It was fine. She was fine. Except she wasn’t. Not really.

She still wasn’t sleeping properly. Worry ate at her and kept her up most nights. If it wasn’t the worry it was her nightmares. They’d shifted with the knowledge of DeSoto being in town. Now instead of waking up and moving to the couch to keep from waking Roscoe, she made rounds around the house. Check Ollie, check the puppies, check Roscoe, rinse and repeat.

It’d been one of those routine rounds when she’d first felt nauseous. It happened three more times before it was officially added to her routine.

That was how Roscoe found her in the morning, curled over the toilet with her hair plastered to her cheeks and forehead as she dry heaved. “M—M’fine,” she mumbled after a moment, cheek resting against the cool surface of porcelain. “S’just a cold or somethin’.” She tried to explain it away even as her stomach rolled again. The last thing she needed was Roscoe worrying about her. Things were finally beginning to get normal again.

ROSCOE:

Rita wasn’t being as subtle as she probably thought she was. That - or Roscoe knew his wife a fair bit better than they both thought he did. The sleepless nights didn’t exactly escape him, nor did the worry that was constantly printed along her features. The whole mess had taken a toll on all of them, made only worse by DeSoto’s appearance, and the damage that had been inflicted upon Oliver. Honestly Roscoe wished he could have prevented it all - not fucking gotten arrested or thrown his old man in jail if only because it would have meant they all still would have been in New York right now. God only knows doing what, but at least they wouldn’t be subjected to the hell Swynlake apparently got off on doing to its occupants.

They weren’t in New York though - and Roscoe knew this was the hand they were dealt and what they’d have to deal with. He’d woken up lacking some serious motivation, and it took a while to peel himself from the mattress, throwing the blankets haphazardly back into some semblance of ‘neat’ before he heard something that drew his brows together in concern.

When Roscoe walked into the bathroom, he hadn’t even been able to get a word out conversation wise before Rita was softly assuring him she was ‘fine’. However it was a little hard to believe the woman when she was curled up against the toilet, sweat beading her forehead, and honestly just looking kind of exhausted. “Are you…?” He asked after a moment, his lips turning down in a small frown as he grabbed a small towel from their cabinet, running the cloth under some cold water before he knelt in front of the woman and placed a gentle hand along her back.

“...’cause y’know you have...a very serious problem where you either downplay whatever’s wrong by a whole hell of a lot, or are super super dramatic over nothin’...and something tells me this ain’t the latter.” Roscoe spoke quietly, letting his opposite hand dab the cloth against her forehead as he rubbed comforting circles against the small of her back. “...and no offense - y’know I love ya, and think you’re drop dead gorgeous - but y’look awful. Beautiful, but awful.”

RITA:

She should have known that Roscoe wouldn’t exactly believe her. He was right, after all. She was entirely too dramatic when she wasn’t sick and often downplayed any serious illness. One way she got attention, the other she was able to avoid it. At least until she couldn’t keep herself awake or upright. Then, and only then, did she allow anyone to help her or show her outright worry.

That was the main reason why she tried to keep everything since coming home from Roscoe as best she could. She didn’t want to worry him. There was enough on his plate with getting the house repaired, dealing with his own turmoil over what had happened, and now DeSoto being in town. They should have been sharing their burdens but they were stubborn assholes. Convinced that they could handle their shit on their own. No need to worry each other. Except when that didn’t work. Like now.

The smallest of groans left Rita’s lips at the cool rag and Roscoe’s hand on her back. Truthfully she didn’t feel sick per say. There was no bone deep ache or real fever. Her body wasn’t protesting against her to stop working and moving and doing anything. It was just… revolting or whatever. Whenever she smelled something particularly strong and unpleasant or when she ate something that didn’t exactly agree with her. She’d explained it away as worry and stress.

“Yous so charming,” she gave a small chuckle before groaning as her stomach churned again. She heaved, nothing but bile coming up, for a few more moments before leaning against the toilet again. “If it ain’t a cold, it’s all that shit from Chippa’s. Maybe yous was right.” She gave another small chuckle as she turned to look at him a bit. “Don’t reckon yous hear that loads d’ya?”

ROSCOE:

Roscoe felt his brow furrow sympathetically as he felt Rita’s body wretch beneath his hands, the one that had been resting upon her back moving to carefully pull her hair away from her face as she heaved once more. His fingers brushed lightly against her cheek as he held strands of hair back; noting silently that her cheeks felt cool - not burning with a fever, or even flushed worse than what could be caused by the act of her throwing up.

It didn’t seem like a cold, was what he was getting at.

“I don’t... and as much as I’d love to hear that, m’not too sure that’s the answer either, babe.” He spoke with a small huff, brushing that towel a bit more over her forehead before he flipped it and dabbed lightly at the corners of her mouth - tossing the fabric behind them back into the sink a second later. After all, if this were food poisoning? Roscoe wasn’t too sure it would look like this. Be a little more consistent than what he’d failed to notice and be a lot more… aggressive.

“For starters…” The man spoke with a small smile, tucking her hair behind her ear as he shifted slightly in his spot. “If this was the result of shitty diner food, yous would be blowing it out all ends, and prayin’ for the sweet release of death, ain’t?” Since that was about...as eloquently as he could explain his experiences with food poisoning, or just...the result of eating too much shitty food too often.

“...Yous were stuck in a place with lots of people not too long ago though - maybe yous got exposed t’some shit there… and yous know how I feel about it, but...maybe yous should get yourself checked out if this shit’s keepin’ yous glued to a toilet.”

RITA:

Rita absolutely didn’t want to go get checked out. It was such a hassle and it’d more than likely take up the entire day. Especially if they couldn’t figure out what was wrong. The idea of having to have tests and labs and blood drawn all sounded way too annoying. She was tired. More than likely over stressed because of everything. That was what the real problem was. It wasn’t some strange bug she got from a room full of strangers. And it certainly wouldn’t have taken this long to actually show symptoms.

But there was some sort of worry in Roscoe’s voice and that was the last thing she wanted him to do. Not when she’d spent so much of her time making sure he didn’t have to worry. Except, if she thought of it, she hadn’t even been able to do that well.

“Yous really think it’s somethin’ that serious?” She asked, looking over to him as she contemplated pushing herself into more of a sitting position. As much as she hated the idea of it, she’d go if it meant Roscoe wasn’t worried. And maybe he was right. Maybe she had caught something while cooped up in Town Hall with the rest of the town. If that was the case she just wished she could figure out who the asshole was who had given her whatever this was.

There were only a few moments that passed as she waited to see if her stomach was going to try and empty itself again and in those moments she let her eyes slip closed in an attempt to gain a few seconds of rest. As soon as those moments were over she managed to push herself away from the toilet slowly with a small groan. “Yous gotta go with me. I ain’t goin’ alone.” She told him stubbornly, trying her best to furrow her features in an attempt to look threatening, though really she just looked tired and wore down.

ROSCOE:

The man wasn’t confident in any surefire direction that Rita had one thing or another. All he knew was that clearly she wasn’t feeling well, and clearly that was a problem. Roscoe didn’t like the idea of his wife being sick and uncomfortable, and wanted to make sure she could get past that shitty feeling as soon as possible. The problem was...he couldn’t exactly help if he wasn’t sure what he was working with.

“...I mean I ain’t no doctor…” He spoke with a small shrug of his shoulders, offering the woman a small smirk as he pulled his hands away and stood to give her some space to try and relax or….vomit again. Honestly he wasn’t sure. Still, he pushed himself to a stand, moving and filling one of the small dixie cups by the sink with water, and placing it towards the edge of the counter for Rita when she was ready as he raised his brow with a small laugh.

“...What, yous really think I’d just make yous go alone?” He asked, glancing at the woman momentarily through the mirror before he turned, observing her tired features with a sympathetic frown. “Ri, yous stayed by my side the entire time I was fuckin’ trippin’ on those dumb ass bugs. ‘Course I ain’t gonna make yous go alone.” Roscoe assured with a small shake of his head. “Besides… I gotta be there t’punch anyone that hurts or upsets you, ain’t?” He teased with a small shit-eating smirk, picking up the small cup of water and offering it out towards the woman with a small nod of his head.

“...here. If yous feel like yous can drink this, then yous should, and then I’ll take yous, okay?”

RITA:

Well at least he wasn’t completely repulsed by her at this point. It was enough to have her give him a small smile as she shook her head at him. Course she’d stayed by his side as he tripped from all those bug bites. He’d thought his brother and father were there. He had scared the shit out of her. They’d been through a lot but that was something she’d never been prepared for. Added to the fact he was going to the hospital, the one place he hated more than anything else, and it was nothing but common sense that she couldn’t very well leave him there alone. There was no telling what he would have done if he’d woken up alone. They’d probably be dealing with multiple lawsuits.

“You can’t assault anyone for that stuff, Ros.” She sighed, exasperated already because she could most definitely see him doing that. God forbid anyone hurt her or think about it. Nevermind the fact she was a grown ass woman. But there was a part that was larger than her need to argue that loved the fact he was protective of her in such a fierce way. “Just hold my hand an’ tell me it’ll be alright.”

The water was accepted slowly, her hand curling around it carefully as she brought it to her lips. There was a gross taste in her mouth thanks to stomach bile and whatever she’d thrown up that she couldn’t ignore. She rinsed her mouth out with the water, groaning slightly at the taste because God was that gross. “I need t’brush my teeth ‘fore we go anywhere.”

She held her hand out to Roscoe, expecting his help in getting up, and only stumbled a bit as she used his strength to pull herself up from the floor. “Will yous check on Ollie and the pups? We need t’leave a note for Ollie, too. Don’t want him worryin’ or anything.”

ROSCOE:

“Says who?” Roscoe returned easily, watching the woman carefully as he drummed his knuckles lightly against the cool countertop. “I mean sure, I’ll hold ya hand and tell yous it’s alright, but I’m also good for wipin’ the smug face offa any idiots who try t’do sommit unnecessary.” Mostly because it was fun - but ultimately because that was his Rita - and ain’t no one gonna hurt her.

The man felt himself laugh slightly, his head shaking as he accepted the woman’s hand in his own. “Yeah, n’if yous plannin’ on kissin me anytime soon too, that’d be nice.” He teased, pulling her up carefully - and keeping a steadying hand along her elbow when she stumbled slightly. Only when he was sure she had her footing did Roscoe let his hand slip from her form, giving a small nod. “...’course. Just do what yous gotta do, and I’ll do that.” Ros agreed, offering the woman a small smile before he slipped from the bathroom and moved towards their own room.

With the pup’s quickly taken out - just for a few minutes in the backyard to make sure they’d be good for a few hours if Ollie couldn’t get around to it - Roscoe had quickly moved on to scribbling out a short little note for the kid. He hadn’t been in his room, after all - which… wasn’t exactly surprising, but… the kid had classes now, so that was to be expected. So instead, a quick head ups written on a scrap piece of paper and stuck to the fridge would have to do.

As soon as that was done however, the man grabbed his leather jacket off the back of one of the kitchen chairs and pulled it on as he stepped into the hall. After adjusting his jacket briefly, Roscoe sighed, waiting for Rita as he swung his keys idly around his finger.

RITA:

Before when Rita rolled her eyes with Roscoe it was always out of annoyance or irritation. There had very seldom been a time she’d completed the action with fondness or any softness that she felt now. He was gone before she could reply and she couldn’t help the small huff of a laugh that slipped past her lips as she prepared to brush her teeth.

She went through the motions easily enough, stopping only long enough to stare at herself in the mirror. She looked like shit. There were bags under her eyes and her hair was stringy, matted with sweat from her current bout of whatever this was. Part of her wanted to soak in a hot bath, maybe even fall asleep in it. Anyways, it sounded much nicer than a trip to the doctor’s office for some bullshit diagnoses and a prescription if she was lucky. Knowing she probably didn’t have much time for a shower she simply splashed cold water on her face and scrubbed at it with a fresh wash cloth before going about her typical every day routine.

Light make-up, hair pulled up into a messy sort of bun, and just a smidge of disapproval as she looked at herself and noticed the bloating. It wasn’t perfect but it would have to do.

“Alright. Let’s get this over with,” she sighed, reaching for Roscoe’s hand as she moved towards the door.

ROSCOE:

“Don’t sound so excited.” Roscoe teased, easily taking her hand in his own as he led her out the door. The trip was uneventful enough - filled mostly with idle conversation, and shitty radio stations, all while the older man was trying to keep his mind from drifting too far into thought. When he did think, his mind would just keep trying to settle on bad thoughts - on why his wife didn’t feel all that well, or what could be causing it, and who he had to beat up because of it. It drifted to DeSoto - to knowing with everything that happened between them that maybe stress was just the big factor here.

If that was the case though, Roscoe would think he’d be the one buried in the toilet too.

Instead it just seemed he was finding more and more grays buried within his black mop of hair, and his wrinkles only seemed to deepen within his frown lines. No matter though - there were bigger things at stake - such as rolling his eyes through meaningless chatter with too bubbly receptionists, and handing Rita papers to fill out, and glaring at the asshole who kept coughing without covering their mouth. Why the fuck had they come here again?

There was a reason, right?

“...Yous think that guys a sleeper cell?” Roscoe asked after the third round of coughing made the man’s hair stand up near on end, his fingers dancing idly over Rita’s thigh out of habit more than anything else. “...cause I mean if so, for national security I really should take ‘em out...Save us from some biological warfare n’all.”

RITA:

For the record even as she filled out the paperwork required for the doctor’s to see her, Rita was glaring at the guy coughing so obnoxiously. At first she’d tried to ignore him. He was sick too, after all. But after the second fit she was ready to jab her pen into his jugular. Cover your goddamn mouth. She’d hiss it at him as she strangled him. It’d be a beautiful sight. And an even better distraction from the stupid questions she had to answer on all those forms.

Had she been out of the country in the last sixth months? Did she have a history of mental health issues? Was she under the influence of any narcotics? Did she know what she was allergic to? If so what medications was she allergic to?

For her it felt like being back in the system, asked questions that didn’t matter over and over again. Who cared if she had an attitude problem? That wasn’t the sum of who she was. What mattered was who she was, what she liked, what she wanted to be. It didn’t matter what she put on these forms, she was still sick with something. That was the important thing. She was sick and she needed to be treated. Not screened for shit she’d probably never contract.

“I’ll give yous ten bucks to fuckin’ crush his windpipe,” she muttered, scribbling another pointless answer down onto the paper. They could easily say they’d had a mental break or something. Play it off like Ros was paranoid and acted out on that, right?

With the last question answered she sighed and pushed a hand through her hair as she shifted. “Try not t’kill till I get back. I wanna watch,” she muttered, giving a small smile as she pushed herself out of the uncomfortable chair and made her way back to the front desk.

ROSCOE:

Roscoe was stuck between switching his gaze from the answers that Rita wrote onto the paper, and glaring quite unsubtly towards the man who apparently was raised by wolves - or idiots. He had to figure even wolves had some kind of decency when it came to not spreading illness throughout their population. Something this kind stranger so obviously lacked. Honestly, Ros couldn’t help the laugh that slipped past his lips at his wife’s returned comment either, drawing quite a few pairs of curious eyes their direction as he shook his head with another chuckle.

“Ten, Ri? Please…” He started, glancing back to public enemy numero uno with a roll of his eyes. “I’d do it for fuckin’ free.” Especially at this rate - It’d give him some entertainment while they waited for the rest of their lives in this damn place. Well, perhaps that was being dramatic, but really it wasn’t that far off. Waiting rooms were named appropriately at least - that was all you did, after all. Wait. For ten fucking years.

“No promises.” The man muttered, watching Rita carefully as she stood to go return her paperwork - his irritation at this man’s lack of manners showing as he slipped down slightly in his chair with a very loud sigh. Maybe they’d get lucky today - maybe they wouldn’t have to endure this suffering and perhaps someone would just come and kill them all now - or...better yet when Rita got back, he would just literally kill this guy. Kinda be putting himself more at risk doing that though - it was a risky move.

“Hey - bud?” Roscoe finally called out a moment later, his New York upbringing granting him zero shame in calling out an individual in public. “...You mind not fuckin’ spreadin’ whatever the hell yous got to the rest of us? I mean I ain’t askin’ much, man. I promise, I just need y’to cover your goddamn mouth, okay?”

RITA:

By the time Rita had gotten back to her chair, Roscoe was verbally abusing the man. It was actually sort of amusing. The man looked so offended and all Roscoe had done was tell him to cover his fucking mouth. Nothing a decent human being could do. Hell, Rita wouldn’t have given a shit if he started coughing into his damn elbow. Just something that wasn’t germs and spittle spewing into the air they were breathing.

“We’s all sick here, ya know. Ain’t no need t’make some’a us sicker,” she rolled her eyes as she sank into the seat and leaned into Roscoe.

A small sigh slipped past her lips as she let her eyes fall closed. Maybe she could sleep while they waited for whatever nurse or doctor to call her name. It wouldn’t be so bad. More than a little uncomfortable and so long as fuckin’ Humpty Dumpty over there could keep his coughing to himself she figured it might be possible. “Wake me up if yous gonna fight ‘im okay?” She mumbled, letting her eyes slip shut completely as she slowly and not so easily drifted off.

It seemed like only minutes later her name was being called and she gave an annoyed huff as she looked towards the too cheery nurse standing in the doorway. “M’comin,” she mumbled, shifting to stand and stretch before reaching for Roscoe again. It was ridiculous how much she wanted to cling to him in this instant. From the start she’d just wanted to curl into him and pretend like she wasn’t sick and that things weren’t fucked up. Dramatic? Yes, very much so. But the further this went, the more she thought that something might actually be wrong.

ROSCOE:

Part of him was really considering taking her deal - the just… end this guy’s obvious suffering and save the entire room from a certain terrible week of the flu or whatever the hell this idiot was spreading. Yet the other part of him figured he could be satisfied if the fuck actually just listened to his minor request. Plus...he’d definitely escape the jail time for not murdering someone in a hospital. ‘Politely’ asking him to cover his mouth still hadn’t saved him from a minor glare or two from people sitting around them, and honestly? Fuck those people too, if they wanted to sit in front of Mr. Manners and shield Rita and himself from this guy’s grossness? By all means - please do.

“..Oh I will. Wouldn’t want yous t’miss the best show in the house.” Roscoe teased, shifting in his spot to rest his arm over the woman’s shoulder, holding her close and letting her use his own side as her personal pillow for her little nap. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes that Roscoe sat there, letting his fingers drag idly over Rita’s arm as he read over the same ten posters over and over and over again, waiting for the telltale call of the nurse. He was a goddamn master at the steps to washing his hands by now, and also newly informed on the importance of the flu shot - something he’d be refusing to get regardless.

Eventually however, Rita’s name was called and Roscoe could have sighed in relief - he was saved from boredom at last. Though honestly, at what cost? The older man stood from his seat a moment after Rita, letting his hand slip to rest on the small of her back as he gave her a gentle push towards the nurse, and followed behind her closely - making sure to keep that hand against her the entire time. Just as a way of reassuring her that he was following.

Unlike Rita - he wasn’t exactly worried. Did he think something was seriously wrong with his wife? No. God no - but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to know what was wrong with her so that they could go home and she could properly rest - and rest assured that there was nothing to worry about. Which he was sure would happen, and so he had no trouble following both his wife and the nurse back to one of the vacant rooms; the man immediately hopping up onto a surface that was probably not meant for sitting (not that he cared obviously) and clasped his hands lightly in his lap - like the perfect guardian angel he was(n’t).

RITA:

The nurse babbled the entire way back to the room. Rita didn’t want to hear much of it. What she wanted was for the doctor to come in and tell her what was wrong. Then she could go home and either curl up on the couch and get better or she could go home and go about her day like she normally would. Whether she was sick or not there were still things to be done at the house. Thank you Magick friendly town that loved to take a shit on it’s citizens.

“...Mrs. Sykes? Did you hear me? I asked what your symptoms were.”

Rita blinked as she turned back to the nurse, giving a light shrug. “I dunno. I’ve been tired as fu--- hell but I ain’t been able t’sleep. Started throwin’ up a few days ago. S’how he found me this morning,” she gave a small chuckle as she looked over to Roscoe. “We’s just wanna know what this is so we can nip it in the bud.”

The nurse only hummed as she clicked a few keys on the computer, only annoying Rita slightly. It was so impersonal and she didn’t trust what was being put in there. For all she knew this woman could be putting in false information. Writing their concerns off as nothing. “How often are you throwing up and when does it normally occur?”

Again Rita looked towards Roscoe before looking towards the nurse. “Probably about a week now? It’s more often in the morning but it happens other times, too. Is this somethin’ that I coulda got from being in Town Hall for a week? I mean, all sorts of people were there. Someone coulda been sick for all we know.”

ROSCOE:

Where Rita wasn’t paying attention - Roscoe was. He offered a quick answer to some of the questions the nurse had asked immediately upon entering the room, knowing damn well his wife wasn’t going to answer them with the way her eyes seemed to drift away. His brow raised carefully towards Rita as the nurse spoke to her, his gaze dropping momentarily as he picked at the skin of his hand and listened to the way the woman answered carefully.

Some of it was old news. The nausea, finding her in the morning, that she wasn’t getting good sleep. Some of it was new though - that it’d been happening all week, and that she’d clearly just been overrun with exhaustion. He’d been trying to keep a close eye on her, and honestly it was a little unnerving to know some of it had still flown under the radar - that Rita had been dealing with this for so many days already. What if it was something serious…. She would have just been waiting until something terrible happened.

“Well that is a possibility, of course. Something like that typically would have started showing sooner rather later, but it’s not out of the question.” Roscoe felt himself roll his eyes as he shifted upon the counter, glancing towards Rita and making a bored ‘talks too much’ hand gesture behind the nurses back as she began going on the possibilities for such symptoms as she stood and moved to gather a few things, and put on gloves. Roscoe was quick to drop his hand when the woman turned towards him, offering a short smile that dipped off his face as she as she wasn’t looking.

“Like I said...a lot of options, but we’ll take your blood pressure, temperature, and get a urine sample from you to start, and then the doctor can go from there, okay?”

RITA:

The nurse spoke and honestly Rita wanted to zone out again. This was why she tried to downplay her sicknesses. A never ending barrage of questions and answers and just waiting. Waiting for nurses, waiting for doctors, waiting for a diagnosis. Rita didn’t enjoy the waiting, the not knowing. Being sick was easier when you knew what was wrong and how to fix it.

She sighed as she nodded, pushing her shirt sleeve up as the nurse came towards her with the blood pressure cuff. It clenched tighter and tighter, though Rita only winced once, before it let go and she felt she could sigh in relief. The nurse said nothing, only jotted something down on Rita’s file and typed it into the computer. The same happened with her temperature, taken quickly and without remark as another line was jotted and the keys clacked.

“Alright. I’ll just give you this and let you handle it. Get as much as you can in the cup, okay?” Her voice was sweet and cheerful as she handed the cup to Rita who took it with a small grimace. When had this become a standard thing at doctor’s visits? Not that it mattered any to her. A step closer in this whole bullshit process. “Bathroom’s just down the hall and to the right. Drop it in the little slot above the trash can.”

Rita nodded again, waiting for the nurse to leave and shut the door, before she turned to Roscoe. “How the fuck is she so cheerful?” She all but whined as she slid off the table, annoying paper crinkling as she did so. “Be back,” she shook the empty cup as she pushed the door open.

Peeing in a cup was no easy feat and Rita felt more uncomfortable than anything else as she attempted it. Thank god her bladder was full, though.

Only a few minutes later she came back into the room and slid back onto the table, laying down on it as she pillowed her head on her arm. “Shoulda brought a game or somethin’,” she pouted, reaching out to Roscoe.

ROSCOE:

In Roscoe’s eyes, even the monotonous stuff with doctors was annoying - unnecessary and better off without in his eyes. He hated getting his blood pressure checked, hated pissing in a goddamn cup (which...was always happening and was one of the many reasons he was kicked out of high school), hated nurses feeling him up and down and chirping off useless things just to try and keep it ‘light’. It was all stupid in his eyes, and even watching Rita now he couldn’t help but feel the prickle of annoyance at the base of his neck.

Thankfully however, Miss Sunshine was up and out of the door after what felt like far too

long, and Roscoe was left to simply shake his head in response to Rita’s words. “I don’t fuckin’ know. Maybe she’s got a kink for this kinda shit or somethin’.” Roscoe spoke with a sigh, leaning back against the cabinets and shrugging his shoulders lightly. “..Don’t fall in.” The man suggested lightly, offering the woman a teasing smile as she left the room, leaving him alone.

Much like the adult he is - Roscoe snooped when he was bored, peeking through the cabinets he could reach; pulling out boxes and jars and looking for something a little more interesting than gloves and gauze. Of course - it wasn’t like there anything all that interesting to actually find, but..it was the thought that counted. Especially when there was this little to do at a place people seemed to spend so much useless downtime at.

Apparently Rita was in the same boat too - voicing a similar concern of boredom as she came back and laid upon the examination table. Haphazardly tossing a box back into the corner, Roscoe hopped off the counter with a little sigh, stepping up to the side of the table, and placing his hand in Rita’s own. “Sorry...I didn’t think about it. I mean I was probably just gettin’ to the good stuff if yous want to help me ransack the place but… figure fuckhead’ll be in as soon as we’d start.”

RITA:

Roscoe was bored as shit too and part of her felt bad. If she’d just been able to hide away whatever was wrong long enough for it to go away they wouldn’t be here. Bored out of their minds in a place they couldn’t stand. She tried to offer him a smile but failed as he took her hand. God she felt like shit.

It wouldn’t be so bad, though, if they didn’t have to spend so much time waiting. Most doctors made it seem like their time was precious and that it was a goddamn privilege to be seen by them. It was why their bills were so high. Because they were a hot commodity and not everyone could be a doctor. Ha. Little did they know.

“What’d ya find while I was gone? Weird sex toys and lube?” She cracked a half smile as she started playing with his fingers. “Probably all sorts’a weird shit they got hidden.” She shifted again, sitting up now and letting her legs hang over the side of the table, and scooted forwards closer to her husband.

“Maybe that’s the key t’gettin’ them t’come faster. Start snoopin’ through shit.”

ROSCOE:

Roscoe felt his lips press into a thin line of concern at Rita’s expression, his hand squeezing her own as his opposite came up to cover the opposite side as well, cradling the woman’s hand gently as he rested his hip slightly against the side of the shitty table. As his wife started speaking however, Roscoe’s brows could only raise as an amused laugh slipped through his lips.

“Weird sex toys and lube?” The man repeated with a further raise of his brow, eyeing Rita carefully before he glanced over his shoulder towards the cabinets again. “What kinda place do yous think this is?” He questioned, giving their hands a small tug as the woman moved closer towards him. Letting himself settle between her legs, Roscoe dropped a hand from hers and let it rest gently upon her thigh, scratching at the fabric of her pants as he sighed.

“I mean yous probably not wrong… They really should know better than to let us in here alone for too long. God only knows we’ll find the needles and use ‘em t’get that guy in the waiting room to shut the hell up.” What they would do if hospitals were stupid enough to keep all of their narcotics in patient rooms could go unsaid - considering it was obvious; which… was exactly the reason doctors weren’t that stupid, unfortunately.

“Y’know now that I think about it? There probably is a bunch’a weird sex toys in this place - these uptight assholes have to be havin’ sex like… all the fuckin’ time, right? Fuckin’ between rounds and in patient rooms n’shit? That’s how they stay so damn cheery?”

RITA:

The minute Roscoe settled himself close to her between her legs, Rita shifted closer and rested her head against his chest. No matter how she felt, the fact that he was here with her and close made it just a bit better. Even if they had to deal with the nurses and doctors pussyfooting around. It made her feel a bit better as she disentangled their fingers and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I dunno. Some weird sex dungeon disguised as a hospital. Would make sense considerin’ the fuckin’ questionairre they make us fill out before we get back here.” She huffed as she tilted her head up, chin resting on his chest, and gave him a small smirk.

“Ey, maybe we’s passed the test and the doc’s gonna come in wearin’ like assless chaps or somethin’. Lots’a leather.” She chuckled then, unable to help herself. The thought was mortifying. It’d be one thing if a place like that actually existed. It was a whole other thing if they had accidentally stumbled upon one while trying to actually get help. “I’m kidding. Don’t look at me like that,” she teased him, leaning up to press a short kiss to his lips. “They’s probably don’t even got needles hidden in some of those drawers.”

Even if they did it’s not like she would have used them. Rita liked to let loose every once in awhile but she didn’t do anything that involved needles or injections. That was the dangerous shit, the shit that could kill you if you weren’t careful. Didn’t mean they could pretend and give the doctors a good ol’ scare. Nothing short of what they deserved for making everyone wait as long they did.

“I mean they’s on the right track. Sex is the best drug out there. I always feel loads better afterwards,” she smirked, thinking back to their time stuck up in Town Hall. It had been the best way to relieve the tension of being around so many people and having no way to get away from them. “You always seem less frowny afterwards.”

ROSCOE:

As Rita curled up against his chest and wrapped her arms around his body, Roscoe felt himself sigh - one of his arms curling around her waist and holding her close as the opposite played lightly with a loose strand of her hair. He wasn’t worried about catching whatever illness the woman might’ve had, or getting weird looks from the doctor should they walk in - all he cared about was that Rita was comfortable and felt safe. Keeping her in his arms made sure of that.

“....please never fuckin’ say that again.” The ex-mafia man muttered almost immediately, his features twisted into a disgusted scowl as he shook his head, trying in vain to rid himself of that very image. He had no need to see some middle aged man in assless chaps, and a doctor, no less. Fuck that. “That’s...one test I ain’t ever tryin’ t’pass. I would leave this room - no - this country so fuckin’ fast.” Get as far away from that idea as possible. “Yous don’t think?... I guess that’s too much’a liability ain’t.”

Giving a small shake of his head, Roscoe shifted slightly in his spot, letting his chin rest lightly atop the woman’s head as he peered at some of the diagrams and posters that lined the wall with a non-committal hum. “...I mean who ain’t less ‘frowny’ after that. Reckon there’s either somethin’ wrong with yous or the sex if yous ain’t happy ‘bout it.” Because why else wouldn’t anyone be happy about sex? - and considering how great their sex was, there was absolutely no reason not to be content afterwards.

“Mrs. Sykes?” The voice startled him from his thoughts (the ones that admittedly had drifted to great sex with his great wife), and brown hues drifted up to catch the doctor entering the room with a small polite smile - and thankfully - wearing proper pants. “If you’re... ready,-” The man started, raising an amused brow towards the pair, one Roscoe returned with an unamused brow raise of his own. “I can talk to you about the cause of your symptoms now?”

RITA:

It was so easy to forget that Roscoe had brought her to the doctor’s office to get checked out for some strange illness. With him pressed against her and his arms wrapped tightly around her, she felt like they were in their own little oasis. Talking about assless chaps and kinky doctors. The thought was enough to make her giggle as she moved back to rest her cheek against his chest. The fact that Roscoe was so against it and repulsed only made it that much funnier. Part of her even wanted to keep teasing him; just for fun.

“Awh, c’mon, babe. Can’t be that bad. Would probably try t’get you into a pair. Your ass is good enough to pull it off,” she chuckled. “Ya know even if it ends up bein’ a real doctor’s office. Think we should give it a try sometime. Spice it up in the bedroom just a bit.” She let her hands trail along his back slowly as she let out a soft hum. Yeah, their sex life was very fuckin’ good. Didn’t need any spicing up in her opinion. But it was always fun to tease Roscoe. “Droppin the teasin’, I’d be all for leavin’ the country if this place was like that. Kinda scary to think about.”

They lapsed into momentary silence after that. It was comfortable, assuring. If she tried hard enough she could have fallen asleep right there. Her eyes were already beginning to droop. How tired was she really? It hadn’t felt like it’d been that long since she’d slept. But she’d also purposefully kept herself busy to avoid feeling that fatigue that had slowly become stronger by the day. Another soft hum left her as she shifted, attempting to curl closer to Roscoe as her eyes started to fall shut---

It didn’t last long as the doctor cleared his throat and that momentary bit of peace was disrupted. She glared at him, unabashed, as he gave an amused sort of chuckle. “D’you knows what it is already?” She asked, pulling away from Roscoe enough to be able to look towards the doctor. “Yous lot never know whats wrong soon as yous walk in the rom.”

ROSCOE:

Roscoe could only feel his scowl deepen at the very suggestion of wearing assless chaps - what a joke. Not that his ass wasn’t great, because it absolutely was, but did that mean he was going to be caught wearing that? Hell. Fuckin’. No. No matter how much Rita could’ve pouted or pled, he wouldn’t dare. Which was why it was good he knew she was just fucking around, even if it still drew a fond roll of his eyes.

Despite the arrival of the very man they’d done all this bullshit to see, Roscoe didn’t bother to take his time in parting from his wife, stepping back if only an inch while his fingers still curled lightly within the strands of her hair - brown hues watching the attending carefully. “Well nothing absolutely concrete of course - but I definitely have an idea of where to start.” The man spoke, moving to glance over the woman’s chart upon the computer quickly once more before he offered the pair a quick smile. “Now if you’d like, your husband could leave the room and w——””——Anything yous gotta say t’her yous can say t’me.” Roscoe quickly interrupted, leveling the man with a short look as he turned slightly, letting his hand drop from Rita’s hair to her thigh once more - resting upon it absently as he shifted on his feet.

The doctor, for what it’s worth, ignored the hostility behind Roscoe’s words and instead offered a small mediating gesture of his hands, giving the two of them another smile as he pulled over the small stool and sat down upon it. Facing the couple, the man placed his hands in his lap and gave a small nod of his head. “Your symptoms are very common; nausea, fatigue, bloating,... - Nothing to be worried about, of course, and we can run further testing to triple check, and absolutely confirm, but…” The man trailed off with a small raise of his hands.

“...it seems you two are expecting. Congratulations.” He offered with a smile, genuinely hoping it was a reason to congratulate. “Your urine tested positive for hCG - a pregnancy hormone, if you will - and it matches up with the symptoms and answers you’ve listed so far today. Like I said; nothing concrete, but… it’s the most likely cause.”

RITA:

“...it seems you two are expecting. Congratulations.”

It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room as soon as he spoke. It hadn’t mattered that moments earlier she’d been teasing her husband and joking about assless chaps and their sex life. But now that was gone, replaced by this strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Could she really be pregnant? She’d been taking her birth control… Or she had been until Town Hall and the days following their arrival back home. But that couldn’t have been long enough for her to get pregnant. It wasn’t as if they’d been having more---

“Jesus fuck,” she breathed out the words as she tore her vision from the doctor and let it find Roscoe’s. Were they even ready for a kid? They hadn’t exactly talked about it. She knew that he wasn’t totally against it and he knew that she had wanted them at some point. But now? After everything? She’d barely been taking care of herself. How was she supposed to take care of a baby?

Tears formed quickly because she remembered the nights she’d spent blissed out of her fucking mind, trying to get rid of the images from that terrible dream. There’d been days where she’d forgotten to eat. Sleep had been something that had been absent since they’d left town hall. Already she was fucking this kid up.

In an instant she had herself pressed close to Roscoe again, her face pressed against his chest as those tears slipped down her cheeks. Oh Christ, she wasn’t ready for this. They weren’t ready for this. How in the hell were they going to have a baby. In Swynlake of all places.

“Make ‘im leave. I need--- We need…” she trailed off, clinging tight to him and hoping he understood her muffled words.

ROSCOE:

Pregnant.

Well that was...unexpected. In all of the things he would have expected to come out of the doctor’s mouth, that hadn’t even been a possibility that he thought about. It didn’t seem plausible, after all… Rita was on the pill - and it was a ritual of hers by now, not some new thing that she fumbled with. It was a part of her daily routine, there was no way she was going to forget it. Yet...it seemed either she had or it had failed - there was no other explanation for the words the doctor spoke.

Genuinely thought? Ros wasn’t sure how to feel; wasn’t sure if he should smile, or keeping staring at the guy like he had three heads. It was only when he heard Rita beside him that he remembered how to breathe, and immediately his reaction was once again pushed aside in place of the concern he felt upon seeing the woman’s tears. Quickly, his hands raised once more, gently pressing her head against his chest as the opposite tried to rub some comforting pattern along her back - his brows drawing together deeply as he heard the mumbling against his shirt. “...Can we get a minute?” Roscoe asked soon after, glancing over at the doctor who agreed without an issue; simply stating that he’d be ready to proceed when they were.

“...Ri…” Roscoe sighed softly, letting his hand still against her back as he pressed her closer to his chest, expression twisted into a concern frown. “...what’s got yous so upset…?” He asked after a moment, pulling away only slightly so that he could gently cup the woman’s chin in his hand, trying to look into her eyes and understand what she was feeling. Otherwise he had no idea where to go with this. After all...this had been what she wanted, right? To have a baby? Perhaps...this wasn’t the time or place, but… would that matter in the long term? “It’s gonna be alright ain’t? Yous don’t gotta get upset…. M’right here. I’m supposed t’hold your hand n’tell yous it’s gonna be okay, right? N’it is….Just breathe, Ri…”

RITA:

She wanted to chuckle at Roscoe’s words. In all actuality she gave a choked sort of sound because she wasn’t sure everything was going to be alright. Not if any of her latest actions had any impact on the life that was growing within her. If one was growing inside of her. The doctor had said that he wasn’t one hundred percent certain. There were other tests that could be done. And she wanted them to be done. She didn’t want to be scared for no reason. Didn’t want to further upset herself.

Still she didn’t know how to say all of that to Roscoe. It was hard enough just focusing on her breathing. He’d understand, she knew that, but saying it out loud would only make it even more real.

So instead of pulling away from him, she stayed close and focused on his hands on her back. They were a steady pressure against her cloth covered skin. Comforting in a way that only Roscoe could be in these moments when panic and anxiety took over her. All she had to do was focus on him, focus on the way his chest moved slowly. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Slowly she felt herself relaxing enough that her own breaths didn’t come in hiccuped gasps.

“H-How are we’s gonna do this?” She finally asked, keeping herself tucked tightly against him. “I didn’t-- I didn’t even know. All those nights we--- What if I already fucked up? What if everything’s wrong cuz of me?” She pulled away then, looking up to him with that worry etched clearly on her features. It was exactly what was going through her head in that moment. The past few weeks she’d been so selfish, so focused on herself. And still she hadn’t realized that there was this tiny life forming in her. “H-How am I gonna… How am I gonna do this?”

ROSCOE:

Roscoe wasn’t completely calm - oh no. He was terrified. They’d talked about this kind of thing, and honestly he’d always been open about it, or at least as open as he could be with Rita at the time, but even if he never directly said it, he wasn’t against having a kid. Especially if it was something that the woman wanted. Yet that didn’t mean it wasn’t a scary thought, made worse by the fact it wasn’t planned; they hadn’t talked about it, hadn’t discussed it with each other or planned it out and knew that this was a chapter of their life they were going to be embarking on.

Even worse still was the very idea that Rita voiced. They hadn’t been taking precautions that an expecting couple would - they were doing drugs, and drinking and fucking around and exposing whatever was growing inside of her to all that shit and honestly? He wasn’t sure if that would have an effect on a kid, if it would cause some harm down the road or even right away.

“Hey…. s’okay. We’s gonna do it together - that’s how we’s gonna do it.” Roscoe spoke after a moment, squeezing the woman’s body snuggly against his chest as a sigh slipped past his lips. It was easier said than done of course, but...it wasn’t impossible. Raising a kid had to be possible or there wouldn’t be so many damn people in the world. Plus he already had a pretty general idea of what not to do so….maybe they could figure it out. “We...will do whatever yous want t’do okay? We can ask the doctor anything - n’...go from there. We’s don’t gotta think of worse case bullshit ‘til we have to, ain’t?” Since honestly that would do no one any good.

Lifting his hand, Roscoe gently cupped the woman’s cheek, swiping his thumb to brush off stray tears as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “...it’ll be okay, Ri.” He muttered quietly. “No matter what, m’right here, okay? You ain’t doin’ nothing alone… We can do it all together.”

RITA:

It was hard not to think of worst case scenario things. They’d been stupid, careless. Of course there was no actual way of knowing that she was pregnant. The signs had been there but they’d been vague and she hadn’t thought about it being a possibility. It wasn’t supposed to have been one. Not until they had gotten over this latest trauma and started getting back to normal. Rita had anticipated at least another year before the subject was broached again. They would have been ready. They would have been able to prepare.

And Oliver. Oh God, Ollie. It didn’t matter that he was eighteen and enrolled in uni. She wanted to be able to prepare him for it. To talk to him about the fact she wanted another child. She didn’t want him to feel like her love for him was less because he wasn’t biologically hers. Even if that wasn’t a thought he’d have, she wanted to reassure him. To ease him into the idea of a sibling.

There was absolutely no hope of that now.

She gave a small nod as his lips pressed against her forehead, trying to keep herself as calm as possible. She couldn’t stress. Not now. She needed to pull herself together so she could ask her questions and get all the information she needed for this visit. And she needed to be there for her husband who was probably just as freaked out and worried as she was.

“If I am— I don’t wanna get rid of it,” she spoke softly, looking up to Roscoe. “It ain’t… it ain’t the best time but things happen for a reason, yeah? Maybe it’s some sorta… I dunno cosmic bullshit.” A soft chuckle left her as her hand drifted to her stomach. Soon she’d be sporting a rather noticeable belly and the thought, while unsettling, wasn’t unwelcome.

Her own hand raised to his cheek, feeling the light scruff there as she smoothed her thumb over it softly. She hadn’t thought she’d ever be here with him. In a moment like this. Hell, she hadn’t thought she would have stayed with him once Ollie was off to college. And yet somehow they’d made it. Made something that shouldn’t have ever worked into something that functioned pretty well most days.

She pressed a soft kiss to his lips before nodding. His words made her feel better, less frantic. They could do this so long as they were together. “We’s should get him back in here so we’s can ask our questions, yeah?”

ROSCOE:

Roscoe felt himself nod, keeping the sigh from slipping from his lips as the woman spoke. Eyes followed her movement down to her stomach, wondering briefly if this was such a good idea. Of course he told her everything would be alright, that they’d get through this but… Swynlake was unreliable. It threw people into hell, and what if all that shit would have happened while Rita was eight months pregnant? Or while they were taking care of an infant. What would have happened if Roscoe was home alone with the baby when those fucking bugs would have come?

It terrified him a little to know they’d have to deal with this moving forward - and if it wasn’t the town...well there was DeSoto they had to worry about to. Roscoe would hope the guy had morals, that he wouldn’t go after Rita or a baby but…. He was angry - rightfully so. There was no telling what Des’ anger could do.

Briefly, his hand touched the one over her stomach, hovering there as if uncertain before he gently locked their fingers together, the pair of them cradling their newly found child as he offered the woman a small twitch of a smile. “...we’ll make it a good time.” Roscoe finally spoke with a shrug - hoping at least that they could do that at the very least. That they could take what was a very bad time to be adding to their family, and turn it into something good.

Thankfully they’d been getting better at that lately.

“...yeah, ‘course.” He spoke with another kiss to her lips, letting himself linger there a moment longer. “I can go him n’...we can figure it all out.” Together. The idiot would tell them everything they needed, and they could go from there - they could do it.

They could have this baby.

...———right?

RITA:

The moment Roscoe’s hand found hers it felt as if something slotted into place. It didn’t feel like they were making a mistake. A bad decision, maybe. But definitely not a mistake. Swynlake wasn’t safe. Not really. It was unpredictable and dangerous to anyone who didn’t know how to navigate it. And even then the strange worlds they woke up in were often difficult and trying. Having an infant in any of those weird dreams and universes would be a challenge. But Rita knew that she’d do anything to keep them safe and so would Roscoe. Their family was what mattered the most and their safety always came first.

She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as he kissed her, humming softly against his lips as he lingered. “We’s just gotta take it one day at a time,” she mumbled softly, pulling away just enough to be able to look up at Roscoe. That was the way they had to take anything in this godforsaken town. It was bipolar and insane. Changing day to day without any warning. She just hoped that for the time being it remained somewhat calm. They’d been put through so much the past few months. And now with DeSoto here she didn’t think she’d be able to take any more craziness.

“Y’know this means those big orders from Chippamunka’s ain’t gonna get any smaller.” This time she laughed, bright and hardly tinged with the worry that had been eating at her since coming home. “Can’t get mad at me either cause I’m eating for two now.” Again she let her fingers splay across her abdomen as she glanced down. — She’d have to enjoy the view of the floor while she could.

“Okay— no more stallin’.” She sighed after another moment, nodding as she pulled herself from Roscoe. “We’s gotta get this information so we can go home and process or whatever.”

ROSCOE:

Roscoe couldn’t help the laugh that came at her words, joining her own with a fond roll of his eyes and a shake of his head. “Jesus Christ…” He muttered, pressing a kiss to the woman’s cheek as he tried to imagine just how much bigger those orders could possibly be getting. He’d already been picking up a lot of food for Rita whenever she asked - god only knows this was the reason, but still.

He couldn’t imagine the looks he’d be getting when he walked in there at three in the morning and asked for double what he was now.

“...Okay.” Roscoe agreed, letting his hand moved to the woman’s cheek briefly as he offered her a smile, the opposite giving a quick squeeze to her arm. “I’ll go get him then. We’s can berate the shit outta him n’go from there, ain’t.” Though honestly he had to figure there might be a stop for ice cream or something on the way home. Honestly he’d rather a stop at the liquor store but… that’d be unfair to Rita considering. “I’ll be right back.” He muttered, finally parting from his wife’s side before he left the room for a moment, tracking down the doctor and letting him know they were ready for him.

They needed to know what they were up against, after all - wanted confirmation that all of this was certain before they got in too deep in their thoughts and worries.

RITA:

There was nothing Rita could do but wait as Roscoe left the room to get the doctor. Wait and think. Her hand continued to sit on her stomach, fingers moving idly over it as the thought of a baby continued to solidify itself in her mind. It still didn’t seem possible but she was warming up to it. Her words weren’t just a show for Roscoe. She wasn’t trying to keep him from worrying about her. They were genuine and heartfelt as she had spoken them.

All they needed now was the one hundred percent guarantee that this was actually happening from the doctor.

She was ripped from those thoughts as the door opened again, Roscoe entering followed by the doctor who still had that annoying smile on his lips. It was like he wanted her to be pregnant. Or maybe that was some sort of projection of her own thoughts onto him. It didn’t matter because he was speaking again, explaining that they’d have to take a blood sample to check hormone levels and to be certain. It was all a blur to Rita, her mind still whirling with thoughts about all that was happening.

Before she knew it the nurse was back in the room, a new tray with her that carried multiple tubes and a needle. She looked to Roscoe then, reaching for his hand as the nurse motioned for her other arm. “Just a little pinch, love,” she smiled at her before slipping the needle into her vein. Rita only winced and squeezed Roscoe’s hand, refusing to look as the nurse filled the necessary tubes.

“It won’t take long, now,” she gave them both a smile before picking the tray up and walking from the room.

ROSCOE

When Roscoe felt Rita’s hand slip into his own, the man gave her a small squeeze, letting his opposite rest atop hers as well. He offered the woman a quick smile as they started taking blood, his gaze flickering towards the nurse - as if just to make sure she was doing it right, and not hurting his wife more than she needed to - before it returned to Rita. Honestly she was almost a little bit less of a baby than he was about that kind of thing - god only knew Ros gave his wife all sorts of grief whenever she needed to play doctor for them.

As soon as the nurse finished, Roscoe moved one hand, letting it rest on the woman’s thigh to give it a quick massage in an attempt to comfort her as he pushed a small sigh from his lips. “...Guess we’re going to have to make the guest room a nursery if this all works out, huh?” The man spoke a few moments later with a glance to Rita and a small smile - trying once again just to distract her from the uncertainty that came with waiting for these kinds of results. The tension and unknown variables that could differ all so greatly depending on what the asshole said when he came back in.

However no matter what, Roscoe figured he had to be ready for it. If the doctor came back and said for sure that Rita was pregnant? He’d...have to be ready to accept that fact. That he was going to be a father (again), and albeit this being...a far better circumstance, the idea still scared the shit out of him. Despite his words of assurance, he could only hope he was right about them being able to handle it. The smaller part of him realized that if the guy came back and said it was a false read, that… perhaps he’d be the slightest bit disappointed in the fact they wouldn’t be expecting a child.

Honestly? Part of him kind of hoped the doctor would never come back in, and that way he’d never have to know for sure one way or another.

RITA:

“It’s a good thing we never got around to repainting,” she mumbled with a smile. Admittedly her nerves were back with the waiting. That uncertainty loomed over their heads and it made her stomach churn just slightly. Not enough to make her need to throw up but enough to make her uncomfortable.

She was grateful for all of Roscoe’s soothing touches; his hand on her thigh rubbing soothing patterns into the material of her jeans, his hand in hers giving gentle squeezes periodically, and his near constant glances over at her. Each one worked to calm her nerves and keep her distracted from what was happening. What they were about to find out. She wanted to be able to do the same for him… or even get a small glimpse inside his head as to what he was thinking about it all. They’d never discussed this, never discussed expanding their family outside of their dogs. It made her nervous too, that he wouldn’t want this.

But she knew that wasn’t a conversation they’d have in this office. No, that conversation would more than likely come when they were home in their own space curled together and going through scenarios. If the doctor came back and told them that they were in fact expecting a child.

Rita didn’t want to think about the possibility of them not having one. She didn’t want to feel disappointment or worse, happiness because there wasn’t any disappointment.

It seemed like no time had passed at all, even though it had been another thirty or so minutes, when the door opened again. Rita stirred from where she had decided to lay down on the uncomfortable examination table and watched as the doctor came back in. Again there was that same smile as before and Rita’s hand immediately went to her stomach as the other grasped for Roscoe once more.

“It would seem that our first diagnosis was correct. Your results showed a definitive presence of hcG, just as your urine test did.” He smiled at them again, placing his clipboard down. “Again, congratulations. The nurse will be by with plenty of pamphlets on what to expect in the coming months and to schedule further appointments to help monitor that baby. Were there any questions you had for me?”

ROSCOE:

As they waited for the tests to come back, Roscoe mostly stayed quiet - hopping up onto the table with Rita when she moved to lay down, but kept up the comforting gestures along her thigh as his opposite hand picked at loose threads within his jeans. There were a lot of thoughts that raced through his mind during the half an hour or so that passed, most being how they were going to take care of this baby (if there was one), worry about DeSoto, and get The Court open and running before their projected opening.

The poor woman seemed stressed enough as it was lately. If Rita was pregnant he could only imagine those levels would raise, and with hormones out of control, being uncomfortable, and now bearing a child, he was sure she’d reach her wits end. Roscoe supposed that was where he came in though; to make sure that she didn’t do anything stupid, and that she took time for herself through everything that happened.

Thoughts once again were disturbed with the click of the door, brown hues glancing up to that same stupid smile as Rita sat up beside him, his head tilting slightly as the doctor spoke. Our first diagnosis was correct. So… Rita was pregnant. Like..absolutely pregnant for sure - with a baby. They were having a baby.

Weird.

Roscoe fought to keep the uncertainty off his features as he nodded along, a terse breath slowly pushing through his lips as he ran his thumb gently over his wife’s hand. “Uh - well… what happens if yous didn’t know yous was pregnant - and say.. You drank, or...something.” He asked after a moment, concern dotting his brow as he looked back up to the doctor and thought about that night Rita and himself had spent together curled up and high as a kite on the couch. “I mean obviously yous ain’t supposed t’drink or nothin’ when yous pregnant, but if she didn’t know, and she’s been drinkin’.... Is that a problem or…”

RITA:

Before Rita was even able to open her mouth, Roscoe was asking the question that immediately came to mind. Not only had she been not taking care of herself but she’d been drinking, taking whatever drug Roscoe gave her. Anything to keep her mind from roaming to the events of that dream and to keep her calm. If she was out of her mind she couldn’t focus on anything other than feeling.

It was foolish thinking about it now.

She’d handled the entire situation badly. There were healthier ways to cope, healthier ways to get out of her head. She could have just as easily buried herself in her songs or in music in general. She could have focused on Oliver or Roscoe. Worried about the people she loved rather than internalizing everything and hiding away. Why did she have to be so goddamn stupid about it all?

There was no denying the sudden drop in the doctor’s demeanor and at that rapid change, Rita’s stomach dropped. She knew that taking drugs during pregnancy wasn’t good. That it could affect the baby negatively. She just didn’t know how badly and she knew she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if she was the cause of any harm to their child.

“If there has been alcohol consumption or anything else… unsavory it can affect the growth of the fetus. These first fews months are quite important. This is when organs are forming and any harmful substance can affect that.” He paused, giving them a sympathetic look. “It is not my job to scare you but it is my job to make you aware. Drugs and alcohol will harm your growing child and could make your pregnancy a very difficult one. If you need help with substance abuse…”

At that Rita cut him off, her hand squeezing Roscoe’s tightly as her eyes narrowed at the doctor. “I don’t need any fuckin’ help not drinkin’. He just said I didn’t know I was pregnant. Yous think I’m gonna knowingly put my child at risk? I ain’t one’a those shitty moms.”

“I apologize,” he spoke quickly, raising his hands just as quickly. “But I would like to monitor you and the baby. Just for the next few months, just to make sure everything is developing as it should.” He stood then, nodding at Rita and then Roscoe. “The nurse will be in to talk about follow up appointments and give you those pamphlets I spoke about earlier.”

ROSCOE:

Roscoe hadn’t meant to blurt the question out like he had - and honestly he’d meant to let Rita ask any questions she had. She was the one actually dealing with the whole thing, after all. He didn’t really have any say about anything she’d be going through as a result of it. However he figured it was one question that lingered on both of their minds - especially after what Rita had said to him the second the doctor had left the room the first time.

Still, that didn’t make hearing the answer any easier, even when part of him expected it. There was a real chance that they’d harmed their potential future baby by making the choices they had that night. It wasn’t like they knew, or were trying to - god knew even Roscoe wasn’t irresponsible enough to suggest doing something that stupid - but they hadn’t known. How was that fair? That...they’d risked so much already and they hadn’t even had a single goddamn clue that this was what they were risking.

Eyes narrowed dangerously at the doctors next words, expression dropping into a deep scowl as he suggested help with substance abuse. Honestly, if Rita hadn’t spoken first, and squeezed his hand tightly, he was almost sure he would have dropped it in favor of punching the guy. To have the audacity to look at his wife that way and assume a question such as that meant that she was an alcoholic - or an addict. That she would be that irresponsible, and downright just uncaring to put a baby in that kind of harm.

Hand squeezed back just as tightly for a moment, his glare not faltering even as the doctor moved on to apologize and stand with a parting statement - obviously he felt like he was done here. “Sure.” Roscoe grit out, eyeing the doctor very carefully with a look that clearly said he was on the man’s shit list - a list no one really ever wanted to be on. “...You send her in here with any fuckin’ pamphlets besides the ones yous talkin’ about for pregnancy? And we’s gonna have a big fuckin’ problem, alright?” The man warned, honestly having half a mind just to leave Rita to talk with the nurse while he followed this guy out back and beat the shit out of him. Yet - he decided against it, only narrowing his eyes dangerously and threatening to get up when the doctor nearly opened his mouth to talk back - only to shut it with a nod before leaving. Smart.

RITA:

She was glad that the doctor was leaving and she was glad for Roscoe’s hand in hers, squeezing just as tightly. She hated the man for assuming what he had, for making her feel so fucking little with so few words. It was ridiculous, too, because she’d raised Ollie from a young age. He’d been with her for as long as she could remember and she hadn’t fucked him up. At least she hadn’t thought so.

Still she was thankful for Roscoe’s veiled threat and thankful that the doctor was leaving. He wasn’t someone she’d go back to for these future appointments. They’d have to find some other doctor. A gynecologist. A hospital. Did they want to have the baby in Swynlake or could they go to Next Town Over? There were just so many questions she had now that everything was confirmed. Now that she actually had a baby to worry about now.

The minute the doctor left, she turned towards Roscoe and gave a soft sigh. “We’s ain’t comin’ back t’him. We’ll find someone else.” Her words were firm and her features set. There was absolutely no room for argument, even though she knew Ros wouldn’t argue this one fact with her. “Actin’ like we’re fuckin’ addicts. D’we even look like addicts? Fuckin’ prick.”

This time her words were interrupted by the door opening and the nurse walking in. “Alright, love. The doctor asked me to give you these. They’ll outline various diets that may interest you now that you’ve got a little one on the way. And this one has information on what you’re body will be going through. This one is for daddy; it has tips on helping your wife during all these changes, though I’m not sure you’ll have any trouble there.” She smiled as she handed them the pamphlets. “I’ve also included the names of the gynecologists and obgyns we have here. The paper behind it has a list of prenatals you should be taking. They’ll help the baby’s development. The doctor did mention wanting to schedule a follow up. Would you like to do that now?”

Rita shook her head, already knowing the answer to the question before she even asked it. “No. I think we’re gonna try to find a different doctor. I’m not sure this one is for us.”

ROSCOE:

Roscoe wasn’t going to argue - he hadn’t been particularly fond of Mr. Fake-Ass-Smile from the second he walked into the room, and he certainly wasn’t anymore interested in talking to him now. For all he cared that doctor could fuck off. “...Naw. That’s fine.” He agreed easily with a small shrug of his shoulder, trying to soften his features now that he was just left alone once more with Rita. “...I mean, I played the addict card t’get outta trouble once, but… we’s ain’t. Uptight fucker just don’t know how t’have a little fun every now and then.” Since in the end, that’s what it came down to. Roscoe only used to relax, or as a social thing. If him and Rita were doing it together or… him and another client in worse situations. It wasn’t an itch they needed to scratch though.

Words trailed off quietly as the nurse stepped back into the room, and Roscoe couldn’t help but sigh - almost wanting to just go home at this point. It felt like they’d been there forever, and they knew what they were up against now at least. Everything else could wait at this point. He was tired of being caught in a stuffy office. “...uh.” The confused sound left his lips as he took the offered pamphlet - brows furrowing deeply as he glanced down at the front of it before passing a look to Rita. One for daddy? Somehow even knowing Rita was pregnant he hadn’t expected that word to be directed towards him anytime soon. Fuck, it felt weird.

He’d already failed being a parent twice. He didn’t want to pair that word and himself anytime soon.

“Oh.” Came the response from the nurse, her motions only pausing for a moment before she offered another smile and a shrug of her shoulders. “Well that’s okay. Like I said, I’ve given you a list of all of our doctors here - or you can absolutely do some research on your own time. Having one that feels right to you is most important as you’ll be in close contact with them for a very long time.” Roscoe at least was glad they’d booted the other one in that case. If there was one judgemental asshole he didn’t want poking and prodding his wife, it was hime. “I’d take a bit to think on that, but try and make that choice soon, as you’ll want to schedule your first appointment anytime now. If you don’t want to schedule a follow up right now, unless you have anymore questions or concerns, I believe you’re free to go, dear! Congratulations again to the both of you.”

RITA:

There was a small sense of relief that passed through Rita knowing that they’d be able to go home. All they had to do was finish up with the nurse. The nurse who was currently finishing up with them now.

“Right. Course. We’ll, uh, get right on that,” she gave the woman a tired smile and nod. She knew it wouldn’t be that day or maybe even the next. Maybe within the week. Because the nurse was right. Whoever they picked would be with them for the next nine months and maybe even after. Whoever they were needed to be the right fit. She wouldn’t be able to handle another doctor like the one they’d seen already. She might even let Roscoe rough them up if they pulled that bullshit again.

The woman walked out of the room then and Rita made to push herself off the table, still holding tight to Roscoe’s hand. “Let’s get outta here. Before yous try t’start a fight with that asshole.” She tried to give Roscoe a teasing smile, though it faltered a bit as she yawned. “M’ready t’curl up in bed and sleep for a few years at this point.”

ROSCOE:

Roscoe felt like there was the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he knew if that was how he felt, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how Rita felt. Honestly he hoped that once they got home that things would feel less constricting - that… maybe it would start to make sense in a more tangible way. Somehow he had to figure it wouldn’t but… he supposed that figuring all that shit out could be a goal for another day.

Today’s goal? Basically Rita took the words right from his thoughts; go home and sleep for a few years. That sounded like a goddamn dream of a plan. Pushing himself off the table, Roscoe gave Rita’s hand a squeeze, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “...That sounds doable.” He mumbled with a smile, letting his free hand raise to brush a strand of hair from her features before a sigh slipped through his lips. “C’mon... Let’s go home.” He agreed, untangling his hand from hers if only to pull her close against his side - letting them stay like that for a quick moment before he started walking, leading them from the room so that they could finally head home.

They had a lot to think about now, after all.

They were having a baby.

#c: Rita #p: Unplanned Surprises #tw pregnancy #x; Roscita #in case anyone is surprised by this fact

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lickstynine · 6 years

Text

Street Rats Part 1

this is the first chunk of a collab I did with @feelingsick, featuring young! Bel and Kazu. I really love this pairing, so I hope y’all do, too!

The strip club was fairly quiet, maybe because it was late on a weeknight, or maybe because the nudity economy was in a bad place. There was still music playing, of course, seeing as it’d be real damn awkward without it, but it was still quite audible when the creaky door flew open, smacking into the wall as a lanky young man stumbled into the venue. He was a little banged up, with bruises and bandages visible on his face and hands, but he seemed in high spirits nonetheless.

Scanning the stage with curious, lustful eyes, his pale blue gaze zeroed in on a lithe figure whose purple hair flowed sensually as they danced. Dropping into a chair near the dancer, he grinned slyly, clearly thinking himself to be quite clever as he asked, “Ey, sexy, you come ‘ere often?”

The dancer turned slowly, grinning over his shoulder. If he was startled by Kazu’s roughed-up appearance, he did a good job of not letting it show. He moved towards the edge of the stage, bending down in front of where Kazu sat.

“See something you like?” he asked.

“Yea, you.” Kazu smirked. “Y’ gotta nice ass, an' ya know how to move it. I don't see a lotta white boys that can actually dance.”

He brushed a loose lock of hair out of his face, stretching out his long legs to get comfortable in the shitty strip club chair. As thin as he was tall, his build was almost reminiscent of Jack Skellington. The battered jeans hanging about his legs were loose in the waist but several inches too short, and his faded jacket was rife with stitched-up tears and old burns.

The boy slid off the stage and moved to lean over Kazu’s chair, swiveling his hips. “I can move it any way you want,” he said, touching Kazu’s chest lightly.

The taller boy raised his eyebrows, “oh yea?” he asked, scanning the dancer more closely.

The dancer brushed up against him again, running his fingers through Kazu’s hair. “Just tell me what you want,” he purred.

“I think I want you.” he admitted. It was pretty obvious through the thin fabric of his worn jeans that he found the dancer quite attractive.

“We could always move this someplace a little more private,” the boy suggested. His hand brushed over Kazu’s crotch. “Hundred bucks a throw.”

Kazu bristled at the price, wondering whether he had money for so much as a gas station sandwich, much less a nice piece of ass. He hesitated to reply, trying to figure out how to weasel his way out of this mess, mumbling under his breath, “Shit…”

The dancer hesitated, drawing back a little as he suddenly understood. “Ah, I see. Maybe next time, yeah?” He winked, turning back towards the stage.

“Yea, maybe.” The dark-haired boy sighed, running his hands through his hair and climbing to his feet to leave. His ego was bruised and his wallet empty; he had no reason to linger. He glanced ruefully over his shoulder as he walked off, mentally kicking himself for being a broke embarrassment.

Bel hurried down the street, taking care not to touch the pocket that held his meager paycheck. He knew that was a surefire way to announce to anyone watching that he had something worth stealing.

He needed something to eat, and maybe a new jacket if he could swing that much cash. And, as the sun was already beginning to set, he needed to acquire those things as quickly as possible.

A flash of purple caught the eye of a local sleaze, who had been scanning the area for anybody who looked like they might actually have money on them. He was distracted from his task when he realized he recognized the purple-haired boy as the dancer from the other night. Tucking his pocketknife away in exchange for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, Kazu drew closer, hesitating to actually engage Bel yet.

He was about to say fuck it and walk away when he noticed the smaller boy shivering. Bel didn’t seem very well-dressed for the increasingly shitty weather, and despite his usual apathy and disdain towards the rest of the human population, Kazu felt a brief pang of concern. After a moment’s thought, he picked up his pace, reaching Bel’s side in a matter of steps (damn giraffe legs).

“What’re you doing around here? I ain’t seen ya in this part ‘a town, and I’m here… more than I’d like to be.”

Bel spun to face him, looking momentarily panicked before recognition hit. “You’re the guy from the other night,” he said, more to himself. He shrugged, tugging his jacket more tightly around him. “I live around here, but I don’t really get out much,” he answered, still eyeing Kazu warily.

“Weird.” Kazu remarked, “I know most’a the people around here…” he left out the part where most of them hated him. “Ya didn’t answer my first question, though. What brings ya out here, since ya said ya don’t normally get out?”

“Just running some errands,” Bel answered, unconsciously checking to feel that his money was still there.

The motion didn’t go unnoticed, and Kazu laughed. “I ain’t here to pickpocket ya. I woulda been long gone by now if I wanted your money. Smoke?” He held the cigarettes and lighter out to Bel.

Bel relaxed, if only slightly, accepting the cigarette gratefully. He let Kazu light it for him, taking in a long draw. “So,” he said, exhaling smoke, “I’m guessing you live around here, too?”

Kazu shrugged, tucking away his lighter and remaining cigarettes. He deliberately slowed his gait to keep from leaving Bel in the dust. “I… I guess ya could say that, yea.” He did exist in that area most of the time, but living usually implied a home of some sort.

“Yeah?” Bel raised an eyebrow. “So, do you have a name, or what?”

“I do. It’s Kazuhiro, not that most of you can pronounce it.” You seemed to mean Americans in context.

“Kazuhiro,” Bel repeated, managing a passable pronunciation. “Nice to meet you, Kazuhiro. I’m Isobel.”

“Nice t… Nice t’ meet ya too?” The taller boy repeated. It wasn’t a phrase he could recall saying before.

Bel smiled, taking another drag. “So, what do you do for fun, besides try to get free lap dances?”

“Look, I was drunk. I thought I had at least like… five bucks on me.” Kazu huffed defensively.

Bel snorted, but his smile was good-natured. “Do I look like a five dollar prostitute?”

“Mmm. Nah, I think ya prob’ly worth a solid seven.”

“Pssh. Flatterer.” Bel dropped the butt of his cigarette, grinding it out with the toe of his boot. “I was a little sorry to see you go. You looked like you could use a good time.”

Kazu sighed quietly, snuffing out his own cigarette between his fingers and tossing it aside. “Eh, I could use a lotta things I don’t got. Food. Money. An actual place to live. But I make do. I spent like an hour makin’ do-me eyes at the local rats after I left, an’ that shit’s free.”

“You don’t need to be paying for sex anyway, I’m guessing. You’re pretty cute, even all banged up.”

The taller boy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Mm, I guess not, but it kinda turns people off when they ask to go back to your place and your place is a pile a’ blankets in a foreclosed building.”

Bel’s expression softened, but he was quick to hide it. “Luckily, my job gives me a place to stay. Not much else, but it’s comforting to at least have a roof over my head.” He drew them to a stop, glancing up at the bar sign above them. “Hey, wanna drink?”

Kazu paused, rifling in his pockets in search of money. He produced little more than a fistful of lint and some stale mints. “Can’t. Broke.”

“It’s on me,” Bel said, nodding towards the door.

“You sure?” Kazu’s brows raised, unaccustomed to generosity.

“Consider it payback for the smoke. And for turning you down the other night.”

The taller boy shrugged, his desire to get smashed outweighing paranoia. “Works for me.” He pulled open the door, holding it for Bel.

Bel flashed a coy smile, slipping past him. “Such a gentleman.”

Kazu couldn’t help but laugh as he followed Bel into the bar. “What, ya hadn’t noticed what a classy dude I am?”

“Oh, for sure. Honestly, I was surprised to see you in the club at all. I figured you would have gone to a gala or something instead.”

“Well, I couldn’t find my ballgown.” Kazu smirked, dropping onto a stool at the end of the bar. Despite the height of the seats, his lanky legs still nearly reached the ground, his toes grazing the floor as he settled in.

Bel slid onto the stool beside him, flagging down the bartender. “What’s your poison?” he asked Kazu.

“Vodka, neat.”

Bel nodded to the bartender. “I’ll have a cosmopolitan.”

“D’ya wanna pair a’ pink lacy panties to go with that?” Kazu teased.

“I wouldn’t mind a new pair, if you’re offering to buy.”

The dark-haired boy laughed and shook his head. “Nah, blue would look better on ya.”

Bel blushed, thankful when their drinks arrived and gave him something to do. He took a sip, drumming his fingers on the bar.

“So, what errands are ya blowin’ off to hang with my sorry ass?” Kazu asked, downing his entire drink like an oversized shot.

“Needed some food,” Bel answered. “I finally had some cash to stock up on essentials.”

“Well, save some cash for that. I’d rather drink a little less than see ya starve. Ya ain’t go much weight left to lose ‘fore your just a purple-haired skeleton.” That was easily the most hypocritical thing Kazu could’ve said, but his teasing tone was coloured with legitimate concern.

“I don’t mind,” Bel said honestly. “It’s not often I get to talk with someone who’s interested in more than jamming their dick inside me.”

Kazu chuckled, “And how d’ya know that’s not my endgame?” He gestured to the bartender for a refill.

“Hmm, I guess I don’t.” He sipped his drink. “But I don’t think I really mind one way or the other.”

“Must be my lucky night.” The taller boy grinned, downing his second glass of vodka as quickly as the first. “Free drinks, and a nice piece a’ ass… Man, it’s been years since anybody bought me a drink… that wasn’t poisoned.”

“Maybe that’s my endgame.”

This time, Kazu laughed much more sincerely, a surprisingly warm, deep tone. “There’s sure worse ways to die.”

Bel grinned, happy to have coaxed a genuine laugh from him. “So,” he said, ordering another drink for himself, “on the slim chance that this isn’t all some elaborate ruse to poison a near total stranger…I was thinking, you know, if you ever needed a place to crash for the night, I’ve got a couch…”

“Shit, man, you're living the life of luxury.” Kazu grinned. “I may have to take ya up on that soon. It's gettin’ cold as fuck out lately.”

“I hope you do,” Bel said, and he meant it.

The taller boy smiled, and for a brief second, the frostiness faded from his ice-blue eyes. He gestured for another drink, downing it before asking, “wanna show me the way there when we're done here?”

Bel grinned. “I’d like that.”

Kazu winked at him, glancing between Bel and the bar as he tries to decide whether he'd rather wrap his lips around another glass of vodka or the boy sitting next to him.

By the time Bel ordered his third drink, it was becoming obvious that he was drunk. He wasn’t a big drinker, and it definitely showed. On the bright side, he had completely relaxed, apparently deciding that Kazu meant him no harm.

The taller boy was still barely buzzed, ordering up another vodka as he looked Bel up and down. After a moment, he asked, “Why purple? Cause you like it, or cause it looks good?”

“Both,” he said, sipping at his drink. “I wanted a change after I left home.”

“Mm. I know that feeling. What's your natural colour?” Kazu asked, growing more curious as the alcohol warmed him up.

“Blonde,” he answered. He nodded towards Kazu. “I like your color, too.”

“What, this?” Kazu ran a hand through his messy dark hair. “It's natural, I can't be bothered to do anything with it.” He guessed that would probably come as a surprise; being tall and blue-eyed usually gets one read as Slavic or Scandinavian, which didn't exactly mesh with the slick blue-black hair he'd gotten from his mother.

“It’s beautiful,” Bel said, slurring his words a bit.

Kazu blinked in surprise, his cheeks burning red. He wasn't sure he'd ever gotten a compliment that wasn't from a horny guy twice his age before. “Uh… I… thanks?”

Bel smiled. “I’m glad we met. You seem nice.”

“I promise I'm not. I just happen to like you.”

“S’fine by me.” Bel downed the rest of his drink, nudging Kazu’s shoulder. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Hell yea.” Kazu drained his own glass and hopped to his feet. “lead the way.” He followed the smaller, much drunker boy out of the bar and back to his place, grabbing at Bel’s ass while the tipsy boy fumbled with the keys. As soon as they got in the door, clothes were coming off left and right.

Kazu was, as expected, somewhere between wiry and underfed, with a worrying assortment of scars covering his body, some of which looked weeks old at most. He grinned broadly at the sight of Bel’s lithe body, leaning in to nip at his collarbone and whisper, “Are you as good in bed as you are on the pole?”

“This apartment didn’t pay for itself,” Bel quipped, pressing himself close.

The dark-haired boy chuckled, pulling Bel in to make out. He tasted faintly of smoke and booze, but Kazu didn't mind, as he was much the same. As hands started to move down south, he groped around in the pocket of his discarded jeans to find a condom, and it was only a matter of minutes before they were going at it hot and heavy.

Bel moaned, burying his face in the sheets as he moved against Kazu’s body. The furious pace felt amazing, until it didn’t. Suddenly, Bel was too hot, his stomach beginning to churn uneasily from all the alcohol.

He pushed himself up, reaching back towards Kazu. “S-stop for a second…”

Kazu froze, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t hurt ya, did I?” He was worried that perhaps he’d gotten a little too into it, maybe been rougher than he’d intended.

“No, I…” Bel swallowed, his hand moving unconsciously to his lips. “I just don’t feel great all of a sudden.”

“Ah, shit.” Kazu nodded understandingly, climbing off the bed to put his boxers back on. He offered a hand to Bel. “Think ya can make it to the bathroom?”

Bel nodded, taking Kazu’s hand and sliding off the bed. For once he was grateful for his tiny apartment, because by the time he’d made it to the bathroom he was already beginning to heave.

The taller boy cursed under his breath in Japanese, wrapping a supportive arm around the trembling Bel. He helped the sickly boy kneel down over the toilet, pulling an elastic off his wrist to tie Bel’s long purple hair back out of the line of fire. “Try an’ breathe, aight? You’ll be fine. Prob’ly jus’ need to get the booze outta your system.”

Bel hiccuped queasily, letting his head hang over the toilet. “Sorry about this.”

“You're fine, man. Ya got me drinks and a place to spend the night. I don't mind takin’ care of ya.”

Bel’s shoulders shook as he gagged, clearly still trying to fight it down. It didn’t take long for the nausea to win though. He lurched forward, letting out a surprisingly loud belch for someone so small. A rush of vomit was quick to follow, splashing forcefully into the toilet.

Kazu winced, but didn't say anything, patting Bel’s shoulder with a sympathetic hum.

Bel coughed once before vomiting up another stream, barely managing a breath before he was heaving up more of the alcohol. By the time he’d slipped into dry heaving, he was shaking like a leaf, his eyes watering from the exertion.

“Easy. Try to breathe.” Kazu murmured, rubbing up and down Bel’s spine with a surprisingly gentle touch.

Bel tried to follow his instructions, sucking in a sharp breath as his stomach continued to turn itself inside out. Slowly, he seemed to regain control, his stomach settling down as his heaving stopped. Bel slumped bonelessly against the toilet, wiping at the tears running down his cheeks. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“You're aight. C’mere.” Kazu scooped Bel up, carrying him carefully back to bed. “ya need anything? Water, maybe?”

“Mmm...maybe later,” Bel said, still feeling queasy.

Kazu nodded quietly, looking Bel up and down before murmuring, “roll over.”

Bel did as he was asked, scooting towards the side of the bed and rolling onto his side, tugging his thin blanket over him.

Kazu sat next to him, placing one warm hand between Bel’s shoulderblades, slowly rubbing up and down. “‘at feel any good?”

Bel gave a contented hum, nuzzling into his blanket.

“Try an’ get some sleep.” Kazu mumbled, trying not to be bitter about being cockblocked by puke.

Bel nodded a little, and in no time he was fast asleep.

Kazu stayed up a while longer, stepping outside for a cigarette before finally retreating to bed, curling up next to Bel with a soft yawn. He didn't sleep for long, waking up just after sunrise and slipping back into his clothes from the night before. He pulled a scrap of paper and a pen from his pocket, leaving a note that said thanks for the drinks, but misspelled and barely legible, along with his phone number. Leaving it on Bel’s nightstand, he tugged on his jacket and shuffled out the front door.

#emeto #emetophilia #alcohol #overindulgence #puke #drunk #uhh kinda nsfw?#idk it's really just implied boning #not much detail #anyway #kazu #kazuhiro #yokota #bel #isobel #feelingsick #collab

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agodhonestmess · 6 years

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Band Practise - Part 2

*hewwo, it’s zozo, please refer to Part 1 for playlist information! Enjoy part 2!* Part 1

Part 3

“It’s the open mic night tomorrow!!” Jon says excitedly as he grabs his bass guitar, Sock walking over to the drum kit. “I had a chat with one of the higher-ups at the club and they said that if we do well enough during the open mic, we might have a place at their Newbies concert in 2 weeks’ time!” “What, for real??” Jojo says excitedly, the door slamming as she comes into the room, making Sock jump then glare over to her, then shaking his head and turning away. “That’s… where bands are made…” “Yeah! And I think we’re for sure gonna do it.” Jon smiles, and then the door slams again as Mephi walked in, or more rather stumbled. “Mephi? You okay there?” “Y-yeah, sorry… i’m just a bit tired out. I’ll be fine.” Jon and Sock look to one another with concern as Mephi sits down at the kit. “Mephi, do you need to rest or anything?” “no, no! Not at all! music wakes me right up usually.” Mephi feigns a smile. “Fine then..” Jon says hesitantly, readying up his bass. They start to go through their small setlist for the open mic night, two or three songs, but something was off. The beat was off. Eventually the last song finished, flat. Jon turns to Mephi. “What’s going on, man?” “What do you mean? I’m fine-“ “No you’re not.” “Look dude, I don’t survive on folk telling me how I do and don’t feel.” “Okay, how do you survive? Because you’re not surviving very well right now, you’re almost passing out at the kit!” Jojo jumps in after Jon finds himself with a lack of response after Sock’s anxious glare towards him. “Okay, ya know what, fine. I’ll show you how I survive. C’mon, guys! Band roadtrip!” Mephi says and stands up suddenly, walking to leave the room, he opens the door, and walks out. The rest of the band all look to each other, and Mephi pops his head back in again. “...C’mon then!” He waves to them. They all look to each other again, quickly put away their instruments and follows him outside the classroom. They begin to walk down the corridor, the lights dimly lit, the corridor lined with lockers and closed doors, the singular windows on the door showing nothing inside, dark classrooms only lit by a pale moonlight, curving around chairs and desks, around glass tubes in the science corridor on the way to the back exit. They pass a staff room, the light still on, and the door still open. They pass, expecting to either see no one, or the janitor but instead they spot Prov sitting, working on a large piece of paper, glasses on, hair slightly disheveled. “Prov!” Jojo says, quickly turning into the classroom. “Oh brother.” Mephi mumbles and awkwardly hangs around outside of the classroom while the rest enter the room. “I’d ask what you guys are doing here but I already know the…. ans..wer…” Prov trails off as she sees Mephi standing in the hallway. Mephi looks from the dark hallway to her, and they share eye contact for an uncomfortable few seconds, before Prov speaks up. “What are you doing here again?” “Band.” “Guitarist?” “Drummer.” “Huh.” The remaining three people awkwardly look to one another then between Mephi and Prov. The tension in the room could’ve been cut with a knife. “You know, I distinctly remember you telling me, well, you were screaming, so everyone, more rather, that you would, and I quote “never step foot in this disgusting school ever again”?” “I distinctly remember you saying you would kill me if I ever did, and yet here we both stand. In the school.” Jojo grimaces and lets out a small “welp.” “Well, times change, people change. I’m head girl now, and I have responsibilities to uphold. Wouldn’t be setting a good example for everyone if I killed someone, now would I?” “No, you would not. And if I acted the way I did again as a manager, well, I’d easily lose my job.” “Manager? How did you manage that?” “With hard work, Prov.” “I didn’t realise you were capable of it.” Jon clears his throat. “Well! We were just off on a little, uh, band roadtrip,” he lines his words with an awkward laughter, so we’ll… uh… we’ll be heading!” Jon quickly starts to walk out of the room, Sock raising his finger and opening his mouth, about to ask something, but Jon quickly silences him by putting a hand over his mouth lightly and guiding him out of the room, Jojo following suit, grabbing the door handle and slowly closing it. Mephi had already walked off, about 5 feet away from them already. Before closing the door, Jojo turns to Prov. “Call me, hun.” “Why would I call a bully?” Prov asks, making jojo run cold. There’s a small pause and before Jojo leaves, prov adds “Sorry. I… I will.” “Ok.” Jojo replies, her voice small, as she was again reminded how she handled herself to be viewed by all the right peers, and how well she had integrated herself with all the wrong ones. The door clicking shut can be heard from the other corridor that the rest were standing at, and light running footsteps of Jojo rang out as she caught up with them. She turned to see Sock halfway through licking Jon’s hand, which was still over Sock’s mouth. Jon exclaims in disgust, causing Sock to display an abundant look of smugness on his face as the hand retracts. Jon looks at Sock and rolls his eyes, shaking his head at him. “Let’s go.” Mephi said, continuing to walk, not even bothering to check if anyone had followed. “So, uhh… wanna talk about what just happened there?” Jojo asked. “No.” “I mean, it seems to be getting to y-” “okay, okay, we dated for a while, things got shitty, we broke up, not talked since.. that’s it.” “Right.” “Okay.” “Okay.” “... How did things get shitty?” Sock asked. “Do you, uhm, maybe remember that you work for me?” Mephi replies and Sock looks away from them and continues walking, his face flushing slightly. A pause fills the corridor, stillness so quiet you could hear a pin drop, before Mephi speaks up again. “Don’t worry though, Jojo will fill you in on it, she’s texting Prov right now.” “You’re smart.” jojo says, her face in her phone. “I get girls.” “You get girls as in understand them, or get them as in… get them.” “Uh… both? By that standard I get boys too.” “Ha.” Jojo cracks up a little, but her focus quickly returns to her phone. “Wait… you… uh…-” “I’ve had boyfriends and girlfriends. Well, even had folk who don’t feel like they’re boys or girls, just how I feel about things, people are people, ya know?” Changing the subject seemed to have brightened him up a bit, as he opens the exit door with a energy. The cold air hits them and they hiss, Mephi shuddering against it. “Man, I’ve never been used to cold.” He continues walking through the car park and out of the school property, the band following behind. They continue to walk in silence for about 10 minutes until Sock pipes up. “Where are we going? It feels like we’re heading towards…” “Blue Bay Club? It should feel like that. I live near there, that’s why I go there now and again when I have time.” “Oh sweet! I’m guessing you’re in the apartment blocks nearby?” “You could say that.” “Coooool!” Sock says enthusiastically. They continue walking towards the club, music playing softly from the venue. “Wonder what’s going on tonight?” “Probably one of their LGBT date nights. I’ve been a few times, met some cute folk there too.” Mephi smiles to himself as he continues walking along. “Oh! Anyone recent?” Jon chuckles as he nudges Mephi softly. Mephi grins and shrugs a little. “Maybe… There’s this guy.. we met there… I haven’t really made many moves though.” “Ohhh! Why not, man?! You’ve probably got a great chance of getting a good catch.” “Why do you think that is, Jon? Do you wanna catch me?” Mephi jokes and Jon coughs. “No, hell no man!” Mephi laughs. “I’m just pulling your leg, Jon. Anyway, how come I’ve never seen you guys at one of those nights?” “I like to meet people outside of Blue Bay. I like to keep my life there away from everything else.” Jojo says quietly, and Jon and Sock immediately nod. “Yeah, what Jojo says…” “You sound hesitant, Jon. Why not go?” Sock inquired, and Jon glares at him. “Why would I go to a LGBT date night??” Jon scoffs and looks away. Mephi rolls his eyes. “Why wouldn’t you?” Sock replies, surefire, setting Jon off kilter. He stares at Sock and Sock realises himself and looks away suddenly. “Not as though I care or anything.” “Okay, enough digging into Jon’s private life and closet-” “Dude-” “We’re here!” A silence falls over them and all that can be heard from the carpark of the apartment block is the faraway hum of Blue Bay basslines. They look around, then to Mephi. There’s some tarp nearby where a small alcove sits, away from all of the parked cars, and completely out of view from the entrance of the apartments, away from the glinting eye of CCTV, away from everything. “I, uh… I don’t understand.” Sock says, looking to the door that leads to the apartments. “When are we gonna go in?” Motioning to the door, Sock questioningly looks to Mephi. Mephi looks at Sock. “We’re here.” He repeats. He starts walking to the tarp. “Dude…” Jon repeats also, his tone different. “Are you… kidding?” “This is heavy.” Jojo says, following Mephi to the tarp. Pulling it back, inside sits a camping lamp, a sleeping bag and a cardboard box lazily hidden under a garbage bag. “This is mi casa. Humble, I know, but as Drake says…” he tapers off, climbing in and jojo following after, Sock and Jon budging in. “I.. I don’t understand.” Jon says, looking around. “Aren’t you a manager?” “I lied my way to that position, look in the box, you’ll see two suits. They were my dads’. Good thing at least past, drunk me was smart enough to steal something helpful before he was thrown out. I wore the blue one to the interview, got my boyfriend at the time to make me look as cool as possible, managed to get a shower at his, managed to print a CV before I left high school too.” “Man… surely, there’s some place you can move in-” “I’m fine here. I don’t need help.” “You say that, but you’re in living in a carpark-” “It’s just… it’s just part of the plan. I’m working on getting a place to move into. Once I have enough money.” “Surely you should’ve had something to start off with, or by now had enough to move in somewhere-” “I spent it on drink.” “You...you what?” Jon says, staring at him. “Wait, so, so far you’ve spent your income on booze?” “No, I’ve saved about a month’s worth.” “You’ve been the manager for 4 months.” Sock adds. “Lil told me.” “Yeah, and I didn’t even visit until a month ago, ridiculous right? I’m not like that anymore. I’m working on getting better.” “What do you mean, getting better.” “Let’s just say, I’ve made a few mistakes-” “He was addicted to alcohol.” Jojo interrupts, her head rising from her phone. “and here it is. I know Jojo would get to the bottom of it.” Mephi looked at her with a fake grin. “Man...Why didn’t you tell us? About any of this?” Jon says sharply. Mephi looks at him, a mixture of shock and confusion on his face. Sock looks at both of them anxiously. Mephi scoffs and his eyes seem to harden like glass. “Do I have to tell you everything? You’re so naive.” “I just feel like we could’ve helped you, Sock and I have our own place you could’ve crashed-” “crashed?” Mephi’s voice raises. “I’m fed up of crashing!! Just let me fall on my own for once and I’ll pick myself back up, okay? All you need to worry about is that I hit the drums in time with your songs, okay? And then after the open mic night, and the concert if we get our own setlist, you won’t need to worry about me then, okay? I’m sure some other dude with less alcohol issues could be your perfect little drummer boy.” The air grows stale. Jon and Mephi grab each other’s eye contact, and then Jon gets up and leaves the alcove, Sock following after. “Jon, Jon!” Sock says, and grabs Jon’s hand, Jon immediately snatching it away. Sock looks at him in shock. “What is it, Sock? What? You back to defend him again?” “Dude, what is your problem? Some people just have bad luck, and everyone makes mistakes! Give him some slack!” “I am so stupid...-” “What?” “No… you… you don’t understand…I’m so stupid, Sock.” Jon’s tone and face changes, darkens, and suddenly a strong sense of sadness comes from him, Sock suddenly set off his path of defense and begins to get confused, even more so when Jon reaches out for him and pulls him into a hug. Sock holds him and Jon sighs sadly, and Sock’s confusion fades for a while as he prioritises comforting Jon for whatever reason was wrong. He knew he had to figure out what was wrong, but maybe, that was for a later time. For now, he wasn’t sure what to say at all. “I- I-” Sock begins but is quickly interrupted with the sound of Mephi shouting as he and Jojo walked to where they were. “Jon? Jon, are you still there?? I wanted to… apologise…” Jon and Sock suddenly stand apart from one another, looking away from each other, and Jon recomposes himself and looks to Mephi. “Uh, yeah, what’s up?” Mephi looks to the both of them, confused, but then turns back to Jon. “I just… want to apologise… for being rude earlier.” “No, honestly, I’m… I’m sorry. I just want to help. But please, please let us help you.” “I-” Mephi turns away from Jon as he tries to form a sentence and sees a familiar face and panics, looking down at himself, making sure he looked good. “Uhhhh-hmmm…” A man walks up to the group, tall, slightly muscular, hair immaculate and dark brown, as are his eyes that stare inquisitively at someone. “Mephi! It’s good seeing you around here. Were you inside the club?” “Oh, n-no. I was… just around… the area.” Mephi says but trails off when he looks up at the man and his eyes are caught with the man’s intensive stare. “um, um… guys, I haven’t introduced you all yet! This is Owen, and uh, Owen, this is… well.. my band!” “Oh, sweet!” Owen’s face lights up at the mention of a band. “I guess I’ll see you lot at the open mic night then.” Another man walks up to Owen and takes his hand. “C’mon Owen, we need to get going- Oh, hi new people.” He says lightly. Owen looks over to him with a smirk. “okay then, let’s go. See you around, Mephi. Band.” He nods to them and walks away, arm in arm with the mystery partner. Jojo hisses in an inhale and goes to pat Mephi on the shoulder, Mephi pulling away and turning around. “Practise is over for today. We’ll be fine for tomorrow. I just want to be alone right now.” Mephi says, his voice low, his face sullen, his movements defeated. Sock starts to go after him, but Jojo places a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head at him. “Let him go. This kinda thing sucks.” “We need to find a way to help him, guys.” Jon says, his eyes following as Mephi turns the corner and disappears. “Yes, but there’s nothing we can do tonight.” Jojo says. They turn and begin to walk away, back towards the school. “Uh, do you think the janitor locked the door to the music room? We didn’t tell him we were leaving like we usually do.” “...Oh crap.” “If any guitars are magically gone tomorrow, say nothing.”

**************

Jojo waved to Jon and Sock as they rode away on their bikes, the night running into early morning hours by this time. Thank god it was a saturday tomorrow, and they had the chance to rest and possibly pull a last minute practise before the performance at the open mic. She yawned lightly and started walking back to her house. Her parents will probably be asleep by now, hopefully not too mad that she stayed out so late. She walked past a high fence and did what she usually did, look out through the small path that lead to a hill that overlooked some of the town and what she saw surprised her. Someone was sitting there. Sel. And so she changed her course, instead of heading home, she headed to the hill, to sit beside her.

****************

Sock walked across from his room to John’s, rubbing his eyes and slowly opening the door. He saw Jon sitting there, his eyes darting around pieces of paper where scribbles of a plan for the mic night lay. He looked anxious. Very anxious. Jon pretended to others to give off an aire of nonchalance, but it soon became clear to his best friend and roommate, Sock, that he only felt that relaxed if everything had been planned out beforehand. everything. It wasn’t quite on the same level of ‘control freak’, not quite on the same level as Prov planning everything about her life out, but there had to be some kind of basic plan for very important occasions, or for things Jon felt worried about. Sock usually could tell if Jon was worried about something if he found plans about it. And for this, there were plans everywhere. “Jon..” Sock says gently, and stops Jon’s constantly scribbling hand. Jon pauses, and looks up at him, his worried expression quickly changes to a smile. “What’s up, man?” “I was about to ask the same thing to you… Are you okay?” Sock sits down beside him on the floor, the plans strewn across Jon’s bedroom floor. “Yeah, I mean no, I mean… I dunno. I had Mephi over here-” Jon points to a scribble on a page, “-and Jojo here-” he points to another scribble and then another, “-and you here… but then on this page-” Jon grabs another piece of paper, “-I had this plan-” “Jon.” Sock takes Jon’s hand and Jon takes a breath. “sorry… sorry.” “Okay, let’s sort this out…”

After clearing away the pieces of paper, Sock had laid out duvets and pillows to lie on, both of them lying down while the Television in Jon’s room gently floated sounds of Jon’s favourite show to their ears. “I didn’t realise it meant this much to you.” Sock said gently. “Yeah… I really, really like the idea of a band, Sock, I honestly can’t explain why. Just… the feeling of being together and creating cool stuff together… I really feel like I could do that for a long, long time. And I want to get to it right away.” “Well, you don’t need to get to it so soon, you do realise that, right?” Jon pauses, and does not respond. Sock sits up and looks at Jon. Jon stares at him, and then rolls his eyes. “Yeah. I know.” “There’s no rush, and there’s no need to panic. This journey, it’s super cool! And, not only that, but it doesn’t need to be scary either. Please, remember that.” “Right.” Jon says, looking away. Sock could tell he was thinking over his words, and that’s the least Sock asked of him. He accepts this and lays back down, sighing contently. “Well, I’m definitely excited to see what happens tonight.” “Yeah… me too.” Sock could tell there was some trepidation in Jon’s voice, but he decided to leave it for now, and instead let the TV make the noise for them.

****************

Jon tapped his foot impatiently as he checked the clock. The band taking the stage played loudly and brashly, the crowd moshing feverently from what he could hear from the sound of footsteps like a stampede just a few feet away from him as he stood in the hot, heavy air of the backstage area. “Where is he. Where. Is. He.” He asks, looking around with anxious anticipation. “It’s okay Jon. It’ll be okay-” Sock goes to comfort him but Jon shrugs it off, catching Sock off-guard and his face hardens slightly, looking away from him. Jojo looks between the two of them and rolls her eyes. “Look guys, I don’t know what’s going on here, but our main concern is having a drummer. We could maybe ask other people incase Mephi is a no-show?” “If Mephi is a no-show, we have no show.” Jon says to her, just as they hear thumping behind the stage exit door near them. They hear someone exclaim and shuffling of feet. “I swear to God, that better be him.” Jon storms over to the door and opens it to see Mephi there, but he wasn’t alone. Owen was there, locking lips heavily with him, his arms around him, holding him tightly. “Mnh- Owen- I gotta- haha!! No, not there~ I’ve got to go~” Mephi slurs slightly, pushing him away. He turns his head and looks at Jon. “Oh, hi! You know Owen.” Mephi’s tone turns playful as he says Owen’s name, seemingly spurring on the other man to kiss his now exposed neck, Mephi chuckles and before it escalates in front of him, Jon slams the door and turns around. Jojo raises her eyebrows while she turns around and looks away, her eyes now trained on her phone. Sock stares at the door with his mouth slightly ajar. Jon blinks at him. “Sock, snap out of it.” “He- Mephi- That guy- he- Owen- they- kissing- what-” He takes and moment and stands a little straighter, his mouth closed now. “What.” He repeats. “You never got drunk, kid?” Jojo says. “You’d be surprised what people will throw away or throw themselves at when drunk. At least it finally got Owen to come clean to Mephi. Or Mephi to come clean to Owen? I’m not sure both of them were ignoring the other for some stupid reason.” “Wait, drunk?” Jon asks, his voice heightens as his guess is confirmed. “I knew I smelt alcohol, but I was so hoping Mephi wasn’t….” Jon trails off as Jojo looks at him and shrugs. “Dunno what to tell you man.” “urgh.” Jon opens the door, trying to ignore the display playing out before his eyes as he grabs Mephi and drags him through the stage exit into the backstage area, then saying a falsely cheerful “bye bye, Owen!” before closing the door. He swore he saw Owen smirk before the door closed and Mephi practically giggled, his face red and his shirt parted open. Jon rolled his eyes and did Mephi’s shirt back up as much as he could before realising the top three buttons were missing. “He ripped the shirt.” Mephi smirked. “Dude, pull yourself together. We perform in… five minutes!!” Jon says and he and Jojo guides him over to the refreshments. He hands Mephi a coffee. “Drink. Now.” “You sure about that?” Jojo questions and Jon nods. “it’s the best we’ve got right now.” “I could go get Prov and ask what she used to do with Meph-” “urgh Prov-” Mephi groans and gulps down the coffee like a shot. “She’s here? Should she be like… making a new rota for her rota-making class or some shit?? Why can’t she get a grip, learn to have some fun for once? What I did when I was with her wasn’t even that bad. I felt like.. I had to leave because of her, that bi-” “Okay, let’s get you sobered up!” Jon says as he dumps a cup of water over Mephi’s head. Mephi yelps and flinches drastically, shuddering as he kneels to the ground slightly. “What the- dude!!” Mephi stands up and tries to get whatever water he can off of himself. “Urgh my shirt… fine then. I’m ready to drum whenever guys, I’m ready!” Jon and Sock exchange worried glances. Jojo bites back a smirk. “This is gonna be interesting.” “For… sure…” Jon says and turns when a man calls them to their places as the band who had just played leaves the stage amidst a roaring crowd. They had knocked the house down. “Well, time… time to go!” Jon works himself up. “Let’s go guys!!” “Yeah!!” Sock says, grinning. “Can’t wait.” Jojo tries to say unenthusiastically, but a grin starts growing on her and soon she’s standing beside Sock with the same expression as him. Mephi just smirks at him and stands behind them all. Jon first, quickly followed by Sock to take the mic and Jojo and Mephi follow together, Jojo waving to the crowd and Mephi already gaining cheers from regulars and friends from the crowd. “Are you guys ready?!” Mephi yells and the crowd cheers loudly for him. He laughs and slams the sticks together, already counting in the bar for their first song, a high-octane ‘Na Na Na’ by My Chemical Romance. Jon grips his instrument and Jojo laughs as she’s more than ready to join in, rocking along with Mephi, and eventually Jon and Sock relax into the song, knowing that if they didn’t, they ran the risk of ruining it. Mephi went crazy at the kit, rocking out. Someone in the crowd screamed his name and he grinned devilishly. Sock prepared himself to sing, in a higher key than the original. This was it. He got through the first two verses, his heart beating in his chest. He needed to up the game, the music taking him as he felt like he left his stage, no longer grounded, focused on the song, he began to belt at the chorus, the crowd screaming. Jon could see shocked faces around the audience as Sock effortless passed over high notes with power and precision, and he couldn’t help but grow a huge grin on his face as he got even more into the song. Amidst the applause, Mephi took off his shirt and dabbed at his forehead with it, running to centre stage and throwing it, Jojo’s laughter being caught by her backup mic. As the shirt fell it landed in a stranger’s arms, Mephi’s eyes cascaded up through the crowd until it hit Prov’s, who stood with her arms crossed, talking to Lil who held the merch stand, yet her eyes stayed focused on the stage. Mephi stepped back, and went close to Sock, whispering. “Sock, lemme… lemme take the next song.” Mephi mumbles, and lightly pushes at Sock towards the drum kit. “What?” “Please? ‘Pieces of Truth’’? Can I do it? I… I think I could.. uh… knock the house down.” Mephi grins and takes Sock’s shoulders and guides him to the drums. “Don’t worry! I’ve got this!” Mephi stumbles over to the mic stand, grabbing it. Sock and Jon exchange worried glances as Jojo rolls her eyes. Mephi grins to them and nods to Sock, who counts them into the bar. They start playing, Sock can feel her heart beating in anxiety, and tries to work it into his drumming, Jon’s face calming as he focusses on his basslines and Jojo grins as she starts playing. She knew something was up, and she couldn’t wait to see how this all played out. Prov stood still, her face visibly paled when she saw Mephi take the stand. She could already see he was drunk from a mile off. The crowd started cheering and dancing along. Prov doubted most of them knew where this song was even from, if any of them had heard it before. For whose benefit was this song for? Depending on who chose it in the set list, and she had no doubt it was Mephi, she knew. Mephi looked around the crowd, and locked eyes with her. She froze. He sang.

(Author’s Note: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x3rmv5zuT2g&list=PLVk8J6Inulf9biYcWPwGtFq-9VdJle1u8&index=10&t=0s )

The little pieces of truth they stick around forever I should have known about you before we got together

But we did it yeah we done it I wonder what did i get myself into with you When i piece it together, baby, I put so many holes in you Yeah, you

He points at her and she hides behind the dancing crowd, hoping it looked like a general point to the audience. She felt her cheeks flush with humiliation, and to make it worse, Mephi sounded amazing. Jon looks to Mephi in confusion, realising the pointing was clearly aimed. He looks out among the audience as he continues playing, trying to find who it was, and spots Prov, who looks clearly mortified. The clicks in Jon’s head that this entire performance was for the sake of revenge, humiliation of an ex the drunken singer was frustrated with, and Jon had to turn away from the audience slightly, gritting his teeth with anger. Sock spots his expression from the drums, and watches with caution, but the song still sounded amazing. He tried not to worry as he kept in time with everyone.

Little pieces of sticks and a bucket of stones I'm afraid i'll be leaving you all alone But i come back around got some pieces of truth Even though it won't make no difference to you- Yeah, you

Digging trouble with a shovel You serve it up in so many different ways Now i got so burned that i learned not to hear another word that you say

But we did it, Yeah you done it, What the fuck did i get myself into with you As Mephi sings, he grabs his head, almost in frustration, but it worked into his favour with singing. Prov swallowed nervously, keeping a strong face as she watched what she hoped only she and maybe her band members could tell was a drunken meltdown. When i piece it together baby, I put so many holes in you

Digging trouble with your shovel You serve it up in so many different ways Now i got so burned that i learned not to hear another word -

Don't mess with the mess-around!!

Mephi jumps down from the stage and raises his arms to the crowd, the crowd cheering loudly and bumping him as he stumbled around slightly. At one moment, it looked like he was going to walk right up to her, and she began to panic, thinking of her response, but her face went cold as he looked at her with an expression she couldn’t recognise and he climbed back onto the stage to take the drums again with a small stumble, Sock moving out of the way before he became a pin to knock down. He looks at Mephi, his heart thumping. Jon walks over to the kit, anger seeping through his face, but Sock gives him a cautionary glance, and a quick. “We’re on stage.” Jon closes his eyes for a second, then turns to Jojo and motions to the crowd slightly, indicating to ask her to close the show for them. That was the last song any of them were willing to play tonight. Jojo nodded slightly and turned to the crowd, taking one of the mics stands and shouting excitedly. “We’ve been Hell’s Angels THANK YOU!!” Jojo says and leaves the stage as Sock and Jon guide Mephi off stage. Mephi grabs a can of beer and downs half of it before Jon can struggle it out his hands, and pushes him out of the venue through the back exit. Mephi grins at then as he turns, cheering and whooping loudly. “We did… we did it!!” They hear the sound of running footsteps as Owen comes around the corner and hugs him tightly. “Mephi, you… you did… amazing! You were all amazing!” Owen says excitedly. “Mephi, you broke our plan, our whole plan for tonight, over some drink?” Jon fumed. “How much have you had?” “Barely anything Jon, barely anything at all…” “I saw you at the bar near the town centre at, like 2pm, drinking.” “You met me at 5pm, Mephi. Were you drinking for 2 hours beforehand?” Owen says, a small look of confusion on his face. “That’s pretty intense for a night out. Why didn’t you just relax in your apartment?” The band goes silent and Owen looks between them, confused. “You haven’t even told your boyfriend.” Jon mutters. “Owen isn’t my boyfriend.” Mephi says. Owen’s hands clench a little, but then they relax again as he takes a breath. “What’s going on. Mephi just told me that he’s having some drink to calm the nerves and have a good time for mic night, but I’m seeing how you’re all looking at him. Can someone please just tell me what’s going on?” “I’m an alcoholic, Owen! I mean, what did you expect? You meet me at Blue Bay, I practically live here, I’m a disowned mess with no life and, guess what, no apartment! I’m homeless. I’m… I’m sorry that I just wanted one night where I felt on top of the world!!” Mephi turns and walks away before anyone can stop him, Owen looking at them all and then turning to chase after him. “God…” Jon says, pacing and running his hands through his hair. Jojo looks between them both, Sock looking to her then beyond her, to spot someone looking at them from the corner of the building. “Is that… Sel? From high school?” Immediately, Jojo turns to see her, still, then she turns back to them and simply says. “I gotta go, call me later.” Jojo says, and walks off, as Sel creeps back from the corner as Jojo follows her away. Silence settles over Sock and Jon while Jon still paces, stopping, sighing and shaking his head. “All I wanted was a band. All I wanted was to have a good time with a cool band. But it never works out that way, I should’ve expected as much. I should’ve trusted my intuition.” “What are you talking about, Jon?” “I shouldn’t of taken Mephi on.” Sock stands still for a second, and it clicks, and his expression changes to one of anger. “Are you kidding?” Jon looks to him in slight shock. “What?” “This is what’s been getting to you all day? You’ve been thinking of getting rid of Mephi?! You didn’t even tell anyone about this, you just let us do the mic night while you had such little faith in him?” “No, Sock, you don’t get it-” “Oh I get it, well, I’ll say it again, people make mistakes, people have hard times in life, he deserves a place in the band just as much as any other person! We just need to help him a little, that’s all-” Jon clenches his fist and throws the beer can that remained in his hand to the ground, cutting Sock off. “No, listen to me, Sock. I am so stupid, I am so stupid, for taking anyone on as a band leader, without even asking what’s going on in their personal life. Mephi has so many issues right now, and I can just tell some sort of internal struggle is going on with Jojo, what else am I missing? What else am I failing to notice? Failing to fix? And I know something’s going on with you, something, I don’t understand what, I’ve seen how you look at me, and how I look at you, and it’s fucking weird because I don’t understand, I don’t seem to understand anything! Are you hurting? Am I hurting you? Am I hurting them? I just handled that like a fucking idiot! I just let Mephi storm off with some guys we barely even know, and I’ve let you believe that I hated Mephi because I didn’t tell you anything?! Just… how much more useless and demanding am I going to get?!” Jon yells, his eyes glazing over with tears. Sock stares, in shock, and as tears spill down, and the words ‘how much more useless am I going to get?’ replay in Socks head, something changes in his mind. Sock grabs him, and pulls him into a kiss, soft, lasting, Jon’s eyes wide open with surprise but quickly closing as they moved closer, seeking for comfort and affection in the other’s touch, a gently holding of one another, not even hugging. The night seemed to suddenly quiet, and nothing seemed to matter to them in this world asides from this exact moment in time, where, finally, they had done what their minds wanted them to do for so long. Jon suddenly snaps out of it and grabs Sock by the shoulder, practically prying them apart. Sock looks at Jon’s shocked expression, his red lips parted as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes wide and fixated on Sock, who looked equally as shocked. He suddenly reaches a hand to his mouth, his eyes widen with shock. “Jon, I-” “Sock…” Jon’s voice different, in a tone Sock didn’t quite understand but made him get chills down his spine, uttered Sock’s voice gently, their faces still so close...nearing again… Sock felt entranced by him, like he was hypnotised, and nothing more made sense than to get close to him again. Then the stage exit door opened with a slam as a man ran out and vomited next to them. Sock yelped and both of them sprung back, away from one another as they looked at each other, their faces still flushed red. Another guy came out and patted his back gently. “dude, if you’re nervous, you should’ve told me you were feeling unwell!” Another guy came out with a cup of water and another with a concerned look on his face. Jon felt like he had seen them from somewhere before, possibly from another high school during a basketball tournament. He looks at them then to Sock. “let’s give them some space.” Jon says, and takes Sock’s arm and pulls him away to where their bikes are. “Jon, what about-” “We have everything here, we can just go.” Jon cuts him off sharply, and Sock shuts up, staring at him, confusion and thoughts still swimming in his head as they mounted their bikes and started cycling home, in complete silence.

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