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renaroo · 4 years

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Showing You Care

Disclaimer: Booster Gold, Blue Beetle, and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics. Warnings: References to the 90s, Death of Superman, Comas Pairings: Boostle Rating: T Synopsis: Ted Kord is not taking care of himself in the aftermath of his confrontation with Doomsday, but he is trying to care for someone else. He’s just very bad at how he goes about it.

A/N: I was rereading 90s JLI mostly for references and inspiration with regards to Bea’s amazing relationship with Booster and for hilarious images of what everyone was wearing at the time, when I came across that period of time just after Doomsday and everyone’s more than a little beat up physically and spiritually, and seeing how defeated and angsty Booster was over not being able to be a superhero without his suit just struck a cord with me. Then it struck a Kord with me, so I wrote this silly bit of nothing.

“So the thought never even crossed your mind before?”

Things were dark to the point of being positively grim in the laboratory. Of course, Ted told himself that it was simply how someone should expect a laboratory to look when deep underground in a fortress-like compound. It helped him think, helped him keep in touch with the side of him that was Ted Kord, Inventor, and away from the young adventurer and hero that Blue Beetle had flatly become over the years.

That’s how his life always was, though — from a childhood between opposing parenting styles to a Jewish kid in a WASPy upper-class high school to a corporate laughing stock with a secret identity self-sabotaging all the things seemingly handed to him — pulled in two directions and never finding his footing for balance.

Brows furrowed in thought, Ted glanced over his shoulder in the dark and looked at the vague outline of his friend and fellow Justice Leaguer.

Had the conversation taken place a few weeks ago, Beatriz would have no doubt lit up her spot in the lab herself, eccentric green flames licking at every piece of equipment around her.

She hadn’t had that sort of control of her supernatural abilities for a while, though. And, despite his promises to her, Ted hadn’t done all that much to help her out.

In Ted’s defense, there was a long list of needs he had from his friends that needed addressing.

Less in his defense, Ted could feel the cold, calming relief of being at least a little bit responsible for some of his friends not being in the field for a little longer. Not getting hurt. Not getting dead.

If Superman could die, who among them was safe anymore?

“The thought of what?” he asked, in spite of himself. This was not really a conversation he was wanting to have. Not with Bea. Not with anybody. “Branching outside of the League?”

He was snappier then he meant to come across, frazzled by the thought.

When that raw nerve was exposed, he liked to direct himself to thoughts of Captain Traitor, but the unfortunate part of having these conversations with Bea was that she had a finger on the pulse of League gossip. And it didn’t take a super-spy to remember it wasn’t that long ago since Ted was brawling with Booster on the floor of the Bug over his departure from the League.

They were good after that. Again. Maybe.

It would have been petty for Ted to hold a grudge still, months after everything was already rectified and the League whole. After they had stood side by side against Doomsday together and were torn apart only to be back at it again.

Almost.

“Not leave the League,” Bea soothed, walking around the lab, toward the walls and feeling around. “Where’s the light switch?”

“It’s not a switch, it’s…” Ted stopped working on the monitor he was repairing and looked around his control panel. With a press of a button, the lights in his lab came on with a flourish. “Ta-da.”

Bea turned and looked at him expectantly, but her attitude seemed to shift in an instant upon making contact. “Jesus, Beetle.”

“What?” he asked her, immediately looking down to his sweater for the ketchup stain from lunch. He’d hoped he got most of it off.

“When’s the last time you shaved?” she asked him.

“I’m thinking of growing a beard,” he answered without a moment’s thought. He reached for the wadded up napkin laying next to the Big Belly Burger trash from his lunch. When he began rubbing at the ketchup stain, Bea, who had somehow closed the distance between them without Ted even realizing it, grabbed his wrist and wrenched it away.

“You are not, you’re just not taking care of yourself,” she said firmly. “I bet you wore that shirt yesterday, too.”

“You have no proof, Fire,” Ted sniffed down his nose at her.

Her eyes sharpened and she tightened her grip on his wrist. “Believe it or not,” she continued, “I’m not pointing any of this out to make you feel bad or to make you question your spot on the League.”

“Oh, well, since those are the only options I can think of, you’re doing a pretty bad job at whatever this is, then,” Ted snapped at her.

“I’m worried about Booster,” she finally announced.

Now that hit Ted like a twenty-pound weight thrown directly at his slightly increasing gut. He looked at her, giving up his meager resistance on her hold, and allowed his emotions to eek through with a strangled, “What? What’s wrong?”

“And you,” Bea finished lamely. As if Ted could share in any concerns for himself in the light of something being seriously wrong with Booster.

“Then why are we worrying about hypotheticals here? Spill it,” Ted demanded.

“Fine, jackass,” Bea hissed back, shoving his wrist and everything attached to it back into Ted’s chest. “Ever since Doomsday shredded Booster’s suit and rendered him powerless, he’s been stomping around the League with almost as much self-loathing and assholery as you have down here in the basement.”

“It’s a laboratory,” Ted whined back. And it was a laboratory — it was part of the incentives package from Max to get him to sign back up, and it was also the one place he could think and tinker and be left alone to wallow in the fact that he woke up from a coma into a whole new, whole worse world. A world without Superman, without hope, without faith that superheroes like them could fill the tremendous hole that a Superman had left behind.

And, despite himself, Ted woke up with a lot of those same feelings as the public at large.

And since Ted hadn’t so much as checked the fitting of his Blue Beetle costume since he woke up from a coma, it did place him much closer to that civilian perspective than anyone else in the League had been for a while.

“And while I sure as hell can agree that we’ve been through enough in all of this to deserve some bad attitudes to a point,” Bea continued, “I think the reason the two of you are quite so obnoxious is because of the separation anxiety.”

Ted squinted at her, not following. “Separation anxiety… from the League?” he asked, genuinely baffled.

Beatriz put the heels of her palms against her eye sockets and looked like she was about to scream. “Idiotas!” She hissed between her teeth. “From each other, Beetle. From each other.”

He looked longways at her, assessing her for some signs of her own mental breakdown or distress from mind control or brainwashing, and then turned back to his monitor. “Are you really so bored up in the embassy right now that you’re trying to dig into trouble?”

“I’m going to torch you and this whole stupid lab,” Bea warned.

Before he could help himself, Ted snorted and put on his soldering goggles to get back to work. “Yeah? With what powers?”

He knew he had to be out of practice because he saw the punch coming from a mile away and still didn’t have the time or wherewithal to block or get out of the way before Bea sent him careening into the control panel next to him.

Blinking a few times, Ted looked at the shaking figure of his friend, noted that steam was quite literally perspiring from her exposed shoulders and neck, then took a moment to reassess whether or not his jaw was attached to his skull. It was.

“Okay,” he responded, “Ow.”

“Do you have any idea how hard the two of you make it to talk to you about anything that matters?” Bea demanded from him. “My god, I have no idea how you two have been together this long. The second the door closes and it’s just the two of you in a room, does it just immediately fall into unending fart jokes and nothing gets done?”

Realizing Bea had no intention of offering him help up, Ted pushed off from the control panel and rubbed his no doubt reddening cheek. “Bea, you’ve known Booster and me for years by now.” He paused, mostly for dramatic effect but also to glance and make sure that she wasn’t close enough for a second shot before he could duck away. “Of course that’s what happens the moment Booster and I are alone in a room.”

“I’m trying to help you!” Bea snarled, throwing up her arms.

“You sure have a funny way of showing it!” Ted yelled back. “And, besides, help what? I’m on the bench until I complete physical therapy. Booster’s benched until he has a solution for his wrecked suit.”

“A solution you’re supposed to be working on,” Bea reminded him. The fact that her own benching was also reliant on Ted goes unspoken, but there was a prickling feeling in Ted’s neck that it was there, under all the layers being hidden by concern for Booster and Ted. “Have you even looked at his suit?”

Ted squinted at her. “Yeah. It’s shredded.”

“And your solution to that is…”

“Working on it,” Ted said so automatically it was as if Booster was in the lab having the conversation again. At least Bea hit him. Booster last time didn’t even bother to turn the lights on.

Just a where’s my super suit and gone the second he wasn’t getting the answer he wanted. Like a child.

“You know what I think, Beetle?” Bea began, slowly, calculated.

“Nope,” Ted answered, running his hands through his equipment for the exact pliers he needed for the monitor.

“I think you’re keeping Booster on the bench as long as you can by not doing a damn thing,” Bea said lowly. “And I think you know that the second Booster figures out that it’s what you’re doing, he’ll blow the top off the whole damn embassy.”

Sick of playing the games, of obfuscating, Ted looked up at her, glowering. “So?”

“That’s not going to fix anything,” she warned him. “The only way you two can stop this and save your relationship is if you talk to each other about it. Not manipulate things behind the scenes to get what you want.”

“So my friends aren’t getting killed out there for people who don’t believe in them for just a little longer!” Ted growled. “I think Booster’ll live. And our relationship—“

The word caught in Ted’s throat. Every emotion was so high, so heartfelt before it that he hadn’t even felt it coming until it was there. And then it was ringing in his ears. He choked a bit, as if it was a Big Belly fry that went down the wrong way, didn’t settle well with him.

If Bea noticed, she was too busy with his other charges. “That isn’t your call, Beetle. God damn it, I felt this was what was going on but I just. I didn’t know for sure until I got down here. And look at you, falling apart, you know it’s not going to fix any of this. You know you’re not supposed to make these decisions on your own!”

Ted grabbed onto the corner of his work table and felt like he needed to catch his breath still. “Wait, wait, hold up!” he called out, using a free hand to try to stress the request. It didn’t do a whole lot of good.

“You’ve had to have noticed it if I’ve noticed that Booster is so wrapped up in getting back out there that he has no sense of personhood outside of his suit,” Bea continued to rant, her hands firing off and twisting in the air with nearly the same speed as her mouth. “And by god, if he tells Skeets to scan his suit for options one more time, I think the little robot’s going to fry him!”

Unable to take it any longer, Ted looked to Bea wildly and smacked the table to get her attention. “Now hold on! You’re firing off some pretty hefty accusations here!” he roared at her, accurately worked up for the circumstances.

She stopped and gave him a look over. “What? You think the little robot’s got enough money to sue for libel?”

“Not about Skeets! About Booster and me!” Ted squeaked, though he liked to reflect on it being a manlier squeak than most.

It was Bea’s turn to squint back at Ted. “What? You don’t think Booster has too much of himself wrapped up in being a superhero?”

“I think you’ve got too much of Booster and I wrapped up with each other,” he growled out. He scoffed. “Relationship. We’re friends.”

Even though Ted was nowhere close to her, Bea staggered back like he had finally punched her back. “What?”

Ted was regaining his composure and able to stand on his own two legs again without leaning on the table. He crossed his arms and looked at Bea confidently, even as the fluttering in his stomach and chest felt like it was going to leave him swaying the moment he no longer had to make a point.

Many emotions seemed to run through Bea before she glanced around and then back at Ted. Quietly, almost worriedly, she asked, “Does Booster know?”

“Yes!” Ted yelled, though a pang of Wait does he? ran through him with a worrying bout of second-guessing everything he thought he knew about himself and his closest friend.

Bea seemed genuinely shook as she stood quietly for a moment, contemplating. She then shook her head in disbelief and glanced at Ted. “Well, it doesn’t matter how close you two really are—“

“It matters!” Ted squeaked again. That time felt significantly less manly.

“Booster needs to hear from someone who loves him that he’s got more than a suit and superhero gig to him,” Bea said more confidently. “He needs to hear it and he needs to see that someone cares so damn much about him that they’re willing to try to stop him from doing something stupid. Like what you’re doing, Beetle. Though, and let’s be clear here, the way you’re doing it is tremendously stupid itself.”

“How are you so good at making everything an accusation?” Ted sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

There was a more tired look at Beatriz’s expectant glare when Ted glanced back at her. She took a deep breath and turned to walk out. “Talk to Booster,” she ordered him on her way out. “And while you’re at it, get some sunlight. And a razor. And a shirt.”

Ted was pretty sure no one had mothered him with contempt and pity in equal amounts since his own mother had died.

***

He had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

That wasn’t entirely true. Reclusive as he might have become in the days after waking from a Doomsday-induced coma, Ted still understood the basics of the Justice League’s base and its layout. He technically understood that the upper levels were filled with space and amenities for his colleagues.

And he also understood that it was the most likely place he could find Booster.

Beyond those fairly basic facts, though, Ted had little to no idea what he was doing. And he could sense his creeping insecurities clawing their way back up to the forefront of his mind.

Therefore, in a far more literal sense, he had no idea what he was doing.

Which made it strangely inconvenient when he made it into the gym and found Booster on a treadmill, his golden robotic companion floating alongside with a countdown timer occupying where Skeets’ frontal display normally was.

Booster was so in the moment, so occupied by his running, that he didn’t seem to notice Ted in the doorway at all. He was gazing straight ahead, cheeks dimpled as his highly controlled breathing rushed air in and out of his mouth.

This must be a fairly intense workout routine, or at least one Booster had been at for a while because Ted knew it took pushing Booster quite a bit for him to get the sheen of sweat that covers his skin. Skin that was highly visible considering Booster was in training shorts and gym shoes without anything else but a headband.

If it were a normal occasion, Ted would already have a couple of dozen jokes at the ready for the headband alone. It was doing nothing to keep back the waterfalls of sweat at that point and seemed mostly to be an aesthetic choice to make up for Booster’s serious lack of recent haircuts.

He had a mane that would make Fabio jealous, that’s for sure.

Ted considered that, all of it, as he watched awkwardly from afar, only to feel an unnatural heat build-up from within his unseasonal turtleneck. Relationship. God, he could have killed Bea for doing that to him. For making him think in such ways he never would have.

He didn’t want to think of his best friend in these ways.

A little too late, Ted realized he also shouldn’t creepily watch his best friend work out more-than-half-naked in the training room either. But that was something, at least, he could confront head-on.

Clearing his throat and making a big production out of stepping into the gym, Ted hoped that it was more than enough to make up for his shadowy leering. Though, if it was, it still wasn’t enough to get Booster to slow down on the treadmill.

Booster did glance to Skeets’ timer and then looked over to Ted, though. So he knew Ted was in there. That had to count for something.

“Hey, Boost,” Ted tried instead. He said it so casually, so naturally, that it took a full moment for him to wonder if it was too much or not. To have a nickname for your friend’s nickname. Was that too familiar? So what if it was?

He was about to have a panic attack and he couldn’t even explain to himself why.

“Did you get something up with the suit?” Booster asked immediately, his eyes darting toward Ted.

And, oh, did that not burn Ted up immediately. For a multitude of reasons. The rudeness, though, was taking front and center, though.

“No, I told you I’d let you know as soon as there was any progress,” Ted countered, sounding nearly as wounded as he felt.

The moment Skeets’ timer hit zero-zero-zero-zero, Booster pushed something on the treadmill that seemed to lower the speed. His high-intensity run began to decrease to a jog. He gripped to the side handles as adjusted with the machine.

“What’re you doing out of the lab?” Booster asked just as snappishly as his first question. He was so focused on Ted’s face that Skeets flew off to the side of the gym without even informing either of them.

That time, Ted could not resist the way his eyes rolled for the back of his head. He crossed his arms defensively. “I’m allowed to leave the lab any time I want,” he hissed back.

“Oh, are you?” Booster countered, slowing to a walk. “Guess that explains the fast-food wrappers I keep finding down there.”

Ted’s head snapped toward Booster, his blood rushing to his face and making him feel immediately hot across his cheeks and forehead. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Why are you trying to gut me?”

“Why are you trying to avoid doing anything actually helpful around here lately?” Booster snapped back, jumping off the treadmill before it was finished up with his cooling-off period. He didn’t even glance in Skeets’ direction as the tiny robot flew in from the side with a towel at the ready.

“Doing anything actually helpful--” Ted repeated, sputtering over the words. “Are you shitting me right now? I’ve been rewiring this entire facility top to bottom and replacing all the standard equipment with updated models. And that’s with doctor’s orders to take it easy with my fatigue.” Then, because he was on a tear and couldn’t stop himself, he looked Booster up and down. “What’ve you done with all your time?”

Booster’s mouth snapped shut and his eyes darkened as he looked at Ted.

It didn’t take an expert in Booster Gold readings to know he was beyond pissed.

“I’m doing my best until you get in gear and fix my shit,” Booster snarled back. “Which, by the way, if you can’t then you need to tell me so I can find someone who can. And I needed to know yesterday.”

“Someone else more qualified to patch it up in this century?” Ted mocked. “Good luck, pal! I’ve helped you with it more than anyone else, and I’m telling you it’s positively trashed! It’s not going to protect you out there.”

Angrily, Booster threw up his arms. “I don’t need protection! I just need to be able to be a hero again!”

“If you need the suit to be a hero, Booster, then you weren’t really a hero to begin with!” Ted erupted at last.

Immediately, the silence became deafening as they stared at each other in shock.

Ted felt like he swallowed an entire lemon in a single go, his whole mouth dried up and his face recoiling back in shock from his own viciousness. He wasn’t even sure where the words came from, they were so callous and cruel. So biting.

Booster was broodingly quiet for a moment, not looking Ted in the face as if the image of him alone was painful. Instead, he looked to the floor or the equipment. He yanked the towel off of Skeets and began roughly rubbing it over his face and neck.

“Jesus christ,” Ted gasped at himself before dragging both of his hands down his face. “I have no idea why I just… Booster, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Sounds like you did,” Booster spat back venomously before balling up the sweat-soaked towel and throwing it right for Ted’s head. “Good talk, Beetle. I’ll stop pestering you about my suit. I’m sending it to STAR.”

“Okay, stop!” Ted growled, yanking the towel off his face and throwing it to the side. “Booster, hold on! Let me apologize!”

When Booster shoulder checked Ted on the way out of the gym, he hit with enough force to push Ted into the wall and took the breath out of him. Apparently Booster had been making a point of hitting the gym for more than just cardio in the past weeks since he lost his suit.

The smart thing to do, based on all of Ted’s long history with Booster, was to back off and let the other hero burn through his temper, work up a good mad without Ted anywhere in the vicinity.

But Ted was apparently a glutton for punishment that day.

He grabbed Booster’s wrist and held it with a vice grip, wrenching Booster back and to turn him around to face him again.

“Don’t touch me!” Booster growled, his mouth turning up in a snarl.

“I said to hold on!” Ted yelled back. “I’m sorry, I’m a dumbass! I don’t know what I was trying to say there, but it wasn’t what came out, okay? Let me just…” He stopped himself and shook his head. He didn’t know what he was trying to accomplish with any of it. He’d made such a good mess from the start.

“Just, what, Ted? Continue to prove that you think I’m some idiot blowhard just like every other person thinks?” Booster demanded. He pulled his hand out from Ted’s grip at last and rubbed his wrist. “I don’t need to hear it. I’ve heard enough of it, thanks!”

“I know you’re not like that, you big idiot, that’s why I’m scared!” Ted exploded, throwing his own arms into the air. “You’re such a hero -- you’re so dedicated to it -- that you’re going to go flinging yourself out into danger the very second I have a prototype that isn’t even tested yet! You’re going to try to save someone, try to prove yourself, and while you’re doing it, I’ll have fucked something up and it’ll fail you and you’re going to die, Booster! You hear me? You’ll get yourself killed!”

Booster stared at him, the anger not dropping even an iota. “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence!”

Ted let out a frustrated croaking noise from deep within his throat and rubbed at his face. “Goddamn it! Why can’t I say any of this right?”

While Ted was working through his moment, though, Booster was taking a step back, his brows knitted together in thought. Then, crestfallen, he shook his head at Ted.

“You haven’t been working on the suit on purpose,” he surmised.

Closing his eyes, Ted released a deep sigh. “I was trying to come up here to, uh, to talk to you about that. Talk to you about a lot of things relating to that. Because I was talking to Bea and she was worried about you, and me. And it was a lot of stuff that I think we have been sitting on and not dealing with since I woke up.”

Booster stared at him. “Sitting on and not dealing with… like my suit maybe?” his anger was flaring again.

Looking Booster in the eyes, Ted felt his chest clenching tightly. It was painful to see that anger directed his way -- sure if he pranked Booster or poked his buttons on purpose that was one thing. But it was anguish and hurt under that anger that was all radiating directly from Booster to Ted. And he deserved it.

“You’ve got every right to be angry with me,” Ted admitted. “But, goddammit, Booster, hear me out here. I almost died, okay? Some monster out of nowhere came through and busted my head in without a second thought. And I wake up, weeks later, to learn that the same monster that almost finished me off killed Superman. And the first thing my best friends want me to do when I get back to the land of the living is to help them put themselves back on the battlefield? To get themselves killed?”

For a moment, Ted couldn’t tell if his words got to Booster or not. He was glaring at the ground before he snapped back up and pointed at Ted’s chest. “You almost died because I wasn’t able to do anything to help,” Booster growled. “I was there and I watched you hang onto life by a thread, and I couldn’t even get into the fight, couldn’t save the leader of our team, because all I am at the end of the day is a bunch of fancy gadgets I didn’t even make myself. And now you want me to sit on the sidelines and do nothing again?”

“I want you to stay alive, you jackass!” Ted yelled, smacking Booster’s hand down. “I don’t care if you never want to talk to me again afterward! If I kept you alive then I can be happy!”

“Superman died!” Booster burst out like it was an argument or a point or anything really.

“I don’t care who else dies! I won’t let you be one of them!” Ted cried out.

Booster’s eyes widened slightly, taken aback. He looked Ted up and down as if expecting to see the outline of a Starro underneath his turtleneck. Then he squinted in confusion.

Ted, for his part, felt like his heart was going to race directly out of his chest and had to put a hand on it to uselessly attempt to calm it down. He scowled at himself. Still going smooth as desert sand, the two of them.

“Look, I don’t know if what’s wrong with us right now can be fixed by screaming matches in the League gym or not, but I feel like we’re distinctly lacking progress,” Ted noted out loud. He forced himself, with some struggle, to meet Booster’s gaze. “Can we try to talk at normal volumes?”

“You’re the one who keeps screaming and cutting like a knife,” Booster only partially joked. “But, sure, we can try the adult thing.”

“Ugh, the thing I’m worst at,” Ted sighed, pinching at the bridge of his eyes. He looked apologetically to Booster. “Booster, I know you’re a hero, and worst yet you’re a despicably good hero when it comes down to it. Which is why I knew that you weren’t kidding when I was in a hospital bed still and you were already talking about fixing up and updating your equipment. I’ve been a hero for years, and that’s easily the closest to death I have ever been, and here’s my perfectly heroic best friend ready to get back off the bench.”

“I’m a quarterback, I do terrible at sitting on the bench,” Booster huffed, a genuine smirk sneaking into his expression.

Ted shook his head testily. “And, as always, I must remind you that I played chess in high school and that metaphor is so beyond me it’s sad.”

“It’s really sad,” Booster agreed. He paused and looked off, a hand coming up and cover his mouth in thought. “I really did ask you to fix it while you were in your hospital bed, didn’t I? Wow, yeah. That was real bad of me.”

“It normally wouldn’t be a big deal, but,” Ted stopped for a moment and took stock of what he was saying. Thinking before talking. He needed to have been doing that from the start. Even with his heart abnormally racing around Booster for seemingly no reason. “Look, I don’t think it’s like what Bea was saying, but you are easily the most important person to me. I can’t fathom anything bad happening to you, and that’s what I feel like is going to happen if I screw up your suit. Which I feel like I will because that’s just superheroic to a T, isn’t it?”

“You wouldn’t screw up my suit, that’s why you’re the only person I really trust with it,” Booster replied flippantly, even flicking his wrist as he did so. He hesitated, though, and looked back at Ted seriously. “What do you mean what Bea was saying, though?”

“Oh,” Ted replied, heat rushing back in his face. “It’s really dumb. Stupid. Honestly, really nothing. But she was saying that you and I were acting, well, like kids having tantrums because we weren’t spending any time together and it was giving us, uh, separation anxiety.”

Booster looked at Ted curiously before snorting. “Like chihuahuas left in an apartment too long?”

Laughing, Ted ducked his head down. “Y-yeah. She was, uh, worried about our…” he trailed off, throat tightening at even the notion of repeating it. Does Booster know?

Tilting his head, Booster looked at Ted curiously. “Our what?”

Ted wished he could just go ahead and swallow his entire foot, get it over with. He seemed to like it in his mouth so much lately anyway.

“Our, uh,” Ted, despite himself, caught Booster’s bright blue eyes with his own again. His entire face was threatening to combust. “Our relationship.”

“Relationship?” Booster repeated. The significance seemed lost on him for a moment. His head tilted to the other side in thought and then he looked away in thought. Slowly, though, a hint of red began to grow from Booster’s cheeks, his ears, and even down to his shoulders. He let out a strained laugh. “I mean, we’re not in-in a relationship that way, I thought.”

Blanching, Ted nearly hit the wall behind him again backing up. “What do you mean thought!?” he squeaked out.

“I don’t know! I thought we weren’t? You’re here telling me my death will be worse than Superman’s!” Booster yelled back in response, his own body going stiff as a board as he backed up, too.

“I’m allowed to feel that way without it being that way!” Ted countered. He then reached to his head and yanked on his turtleneck. “Stupid, fucking, heated, useless--”

“What way?” Booster pressed, quiet and thoughtful.

“Oh, god, can we go back to fighting?” Ted begged.

“We may, depending on how this goes!” Booster said. His eyes flickered with something meaningful and unknowable at Ted. “Ted, have we been in a relationship this whole time?”

“If you have to ask, the answer’s probably no,” Ted said, chin down as he glared angrily at his turtleneck. Like it was the cause of everything terrible that had happened that day so far.

“Probably?”

Groaning, Ted scrubbed at his face instead of his turtleneck. He was about to have survived Doomsday only to give in to the elements and melt into a puddle right there in the League’s own property. “I never thought we were. But, when I look at all the things I count as having in a relationship? Like all the time, and the close vicinity, and the -- you know, all the stuff -- when I look at it scientifically, it would appear to most people that we, uh. I can just see where it came from.”

Booster looked unmoved. “What all stuff?”

“Don’t make me--” Ted sighed and rotated one of his hands in a weak gesture. “Booster, the feelings stuff. I care about you, like a lot. To an insane and scary degree. To the point that I do crazy, Mad Scientist Kord things that make no sense to anybody but me. Like sabotaging your chances of going back out there in the field because I’m so goddamn terrified that I’ll lose you.”

Squinting at him, Booster folded his arms across his broad chest. “You’re, what, hurtful because you love me?”

“I mean, statistically looking at my history, it’s just about the only way I know how to love people,” Ted attempted to joke. Badly. “Or I’m just really scared of this side of me and didn’t acknowledge it until about three minutes ago. That, too.”

“This is, by far, the weirdest conversation we’ve had,” Booster noted, almost transfixed.

“I mean, I’m sure we have had to have weirder at some point,” Ted muttered only to go stiff as Booster came in closer. “W-what are you doing?”

Ted wasn’t sure what to expect, but it was not the huge, sweaty embrace of his best friend who he had spent a few weeks sabotaging. Yet, as he was pulled tightly into Booster, he couldn’t help himself from pulling back, from wrapping his arms around Booster and breathing him in.

Somehow he had forgotten how good it felt to just touch someone else, to hug someone and mean it in a way that was so intimate and close. He felt lighter against Booster.

“I love you, too, Ted, you big idiot,” Booster huffed against the top of Ted’s head, his breath tickling the hairs over Ted’s ear. “I’m sorry I’m bad at saying it, too. But I absolutely can’t lose you again, either. And-and I need my suit. I can’t protect you without it.”

Blinking against Booster’s chest, Ted can feel that Booster’s heart is as panicked and erratic as his own.

“Maybe we both should get therapy first,” Ted mused.

“Maybe,” Booster agreed, finally letting Ted go so that they could look at each other. “We should probably, uh, process this thing first, though. Like. We just found out we’ve been kind of married for the past five years.”

Ted went rigid. “You think it’s only been five?”

Booster burst into laughter, which Ted couldn’t keep himself from joining in on. They leaned against each other, slapping arms around each other’s necks for balance as their foreheads rested together. They were ridiculous and sophomoric, and almost everything the others had said about them -- especially that part.

But a weight Ted didn’t know he had been carrying was finally gone, and for the first time in a long time, he realized that perhaps even more than wanting Booster safe, he’d wanted him happy for a long time. At the very least since Ted had woken up from his brush with death.

And, if they were basically in a relationship anyway, he supposed that it was only right that they work on making each other happy anyway.

#Boostle #Ted Kord #Blue Beetle #Booster Gold #Michael Jon Carter #Beatriz da Costa #Fire #JLI #Justice League International #writing #dc fic #jli fic

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teenagermilk · 6 years

Text

He wanted to leave, but couldn’t think of anyplace he wanted to be. It was a strange feeling to want to go away but have no place in mind he’d like to be. He wanted to disappear, without telling anyone.

It came to him as a surprising, soothing thought, ‘I want to die.’ And he smiled.

He’d never considered suicide before, never understood why anyone would... until now.

He wasn’t religious, knew there wasn’t an afterlife. He’d been dead before, been dead for billions of years before he was born. That hadn’t been so bad. There was an infinitium of time on either side of an ephemeral life. He’d already spent an infinitely longer span dead than alive, he wasn’t afraid of oblivion.

He wasn’t afraid of pain, he could do it himself, was confident that he could do a good job of it. Take a shotgun into the woods. Rent a helium tank for balloons and lay it in the backseat of his car with the windows rolled up, open the nozzle to full blast and go out singing along to the radio like a chipmunk. Take a few sleeping pills, down a bottle of wine, padlock a length of chain around his waist and swim as far out to sea as his arms would take him. There were a lot of tall buildings around.

His death would hurt his family, but he honestly didn’t care. His life was his, they didn’t have to live it, he did. This life was his to do with as he wished.

He understood why mass shooters did what they did, the world was too crowded. Too bereft of opportunities. Dog-eat-dog was too kind an expression for seven billion selfish people all working in oblivious unison to worsen the world on all fronts. He smiled at the thought of firing an AR14 at everyone in the church he’d been drug to as a child, retire early to a quiet life of solitary confinement, or ‘suicide-by-cop’. The death penalty had been overturned, and he had no hopes of ever retiring otherwise...

He could never do that either, he wasn’t a murderer. He couldn’t think of anyone he truly hated.

His life had become asphyxiating, and he’d come to regret so many decisions he’d made. His youth was waning fast, dotage setting in. He’d already left everyone he loved, or they’d left him. Cancer ran in his family, he was uninsured. He owed thousands in debt.

He’d had some fun over the years, but fun was a poor facsimile for happiness. He was certain he’d lost his chance at ever being happy. He was ready.

All these thoughts were pointless though. He could never commit suicide, he knew. Suicide meant admitting defeat, and that was something he just couldn’t do. His pride wouldn’t allow it.

So he decided to get hopelessly lost. The ‘hopelessly’ part being literal to his aim. No hope of ever returning. He didn’t care what happened to him, so long as he never saw another person for however long he lived.

He quit his job spent a week cleaning out his shabby apartment, writing platitudes to the texts of family members, created a story about going on a road trip to see a woman he’d met online, they were happy for him. Spent a few days selling everything of value that he had.

He opened a road atlas and looked for a way out. Getting hopelessly lost was difficult to accomplish in today’s world. Highways bisected every tract of wilderness. He decided the best direction was north-northeast, and the best route was through mountains. He couldn’t imagine himself traveling afoot through alpine forests, it excited him.

He withdrew his pitiful life savings, added to it the sum traded for all his valuables, and went shopping. He bought a fine pair of hiking boots, a 70 litre pack, mess kit, two canteens, net bags and compression sacks, sleeping bag, rolled foam pad, pricey four-season tent, several braids of parachute cord, titanium axe/pick, multitool, two tarps, two different crank-charged lamps, head lamp, two high-powered pen lights and a big pack of batteries. He paused in front of a selection of durable compasses, but decided he was better off without.

With two of his three credit cards maxed out, he decided lastly to get four sets high-tech thermal underwear and a dozen pairs of smartwool socks before moving on to his list of provisions. He couldn’t envision how he wanted to die, but gradual starvation wasn’t ideal. He’d shop for food tomorrow.

Laying out all his purchases on the floor of his shabby apartment, he became suddenly very anxious to leave. Opening all his cupboards, he discovered his kitchen to be surprisingly well-stocked with an array of nonperishables. He mixed his sizeable spice rack into three zippered plastic bags, one salty, one curry, one that was mostly cumin and cayenne. He filled another zipperbag with the dozen types of teabags his ex had left in his cupboards. He never took any sort of inventory, decided that rationing was counter-intuitive to his objectives. He stuffed everything into his pack and padded the edges of cans with compressed sacks of clothing. Pulled out a woollen military sweater, his warmest jacket, a down vest, and a durable denim jacket, knit cap and two pairs gloves.

The pack was overstuffed, he didn’t want to guess what it weighed. He wondered if it was possible to trek through mountains with so much strapped to his back, so he laced up his new boots, strapped on the heavy pack and walked to the post office to put a hold on his mail for three months (which would \\\\\sell the lie

). It was about four miles, there and back.

When he returned he decided it was possible. He was out of shape, had grown thick through his middle, but he’d be in great shape soon. He’d make a handsome corpse. He drank the remaining five cans of lager from his refrigerator whilst looking through his bookshelf, trying to decide what the last book he’d ever read would be. After finishing the fifth beer he gave up without having having selected anything. Rising, he undressed and lay down on his bed, pulling the covers over him for the final time, dropping into a deep and dreamless sleep, not unlike death.

He awoke and threw a couple new toothbrushes and a roll of floss into his pack. He thought about buying more groceries, but decided he would eat what he had and subsist off whatever he could find thereafter.

He had his final breakfast amongst civilisation in an old diner. He tipped very well.

Then he turned onto the highway north, towards the mountain range not yet visible.

The mountains were rose from the horizon like the profile of a sleeping woman. They loomed blue and misty as he stopped for fuel. He filled the tank before realising how stupid he was for doing so.

It was surprising to see snow this late in the year, hard rinds of windblown snow and ice clung to the shadows in crags, fissures and the leeward sides of the peaks. He pulled into a rest stop for free coffee and consulted his road atlas.

A road broke away from a tributary highway that seemed to lead into nothing, a good place to disappear.

The road didn’t end though, it continued in a series of muddy logger roads that wound upwards through an area of switchbacks beset on all sides by spruces and then through a massive clear-cut that spread downwards and up the slopes of the mountain east. His car handled the boggy snowmelt muck better than he’d ever have guessed.

Eventually the ravine on his right opened into a proper canyon, so he pulled off the single gravelly lane and advanced over the moss covered rock to the precipice. Setting the emergency brake, he parked the car as close to the cliff as he dared, shifted to neutral and exited the vehicle, leaving the engine running. He took a cursory inventory of the contents of his car, electing to bring a sizeable wad of napkins from his glove box, hot sauce packets, a pair of oversized pliers, paint respirator and a pair of cheap sunglasses. After shouldering his pack and cinching the straps, he leaned into the open door, disengaged the emergency brake and stood back. The humming car didn’t move, so he pushed, and it began to roll.

Just before the very edge, was a gulch of loose shale, which crumbled as the car tipped. There was silence for a few seconds before the impact. He’d heard a garbage truck drop a dumpster before, it sounded a lot like that. There was no explosion like on TV. He edged forward to see the car flipping end-over-end for the last hundred feet before crashing through the tree line, folding over a birch. No explosion, but a bit of smoke. Disappointed by the lacklustre death of the best car he’d ever had, he turned his face to the succession of barren crags above him and started walking.

The gravel lane curved away downhill and he left the road, feeling energised, feeling like this was the exact moment he left civilisation and everyone he knew behind. He hadn’t wept in years, but was surprised to feel his eyes fill and drops rolling down his face. He hadn’t known such joy in a long time. He began his climb in earnest.

It was hard on his knees. The layers of loose rock under a hard crust of frozen snow threatened to roll his ankles. Despite this, he made better time than he’d thought. He stopped for a moment to take out a thermal flask of coffee, still hot. He took out his phone and looked through the photos on it. Then he threw it out over the wide gulf of space that opened before him. Then he stood to resume his trek. But then he noticed the haze of smoke rising from the ravine. The copse of birches where his car had come to its final rest appeared to be smouldering. He wondered if the smoke was visible from the highway.

After what he guessed might be two hours, he summited the first peak and stared out at the grey sky. The position of the sun wasn’t obvious, but he found it low in the west, where it would soon set. The wind whipped at his clothes and stole his breath, he leaned into it, arms out, eyes running. He couldn’t see the highway, no buildings, no trace of humankind. The land looked much as it had for hundreds of thousands of years. This was magical.

Then he heard the helicopter.

There was a single light in the dusky east, a searchlight? The duskiness was not darkened cloud, but smoke. It seems he’d started a forest fire. He cursed. However long it burned, he was certain his license plate would still be legible. They might even begin searching for him tonight. He picked up the pack and started down the other side of the mountain towards the dark woods far below.

He could hear the helicopter echoing all around as he pulled on his gloves, expecting to have to grab ahold of the rock as he descended. He carefully shifted his weight over a ledge of granite and began seating as he lowered himself by arm strength. The weight of the pack was off-putting and the light was beginning to dim.

Suddenly the chopper noise boomed over the crags above him.

He didn’t look up, but jogged, panting to the line of trees below. The helicopter seemed to be overhead. He leapt down to a cluster of boulders and sent some loose stones clattering below. They sounded odd, as if they were ricocheting down a well. Then he saw it, the toothy maw of the mountain.

A cave opened below him, barely 8 feet across, and angling inward, resembling a blackened mouth teethed with loose slabs of stone. He slid down the loose rocks that comprised the slope and unhooked his axe. Using the pick he stopped his slide and peered over the rim and into the cave. It was dark. The helicopter passed and seemed to be circling the area.

He climbed inside and squatted, listening. The helicopter seemed to be coming round. It was twilight outside, and it was eternal night inside. He didn’t want to be found, and he’d found his path to disappearing. This was fat.

Spelunking was a noble calling.

He pulled his headlamp from the breast pocket of his jacket and adjusted the straps. He switched it on and the single LED light magnified by a thick lens lanced through the dark. Looking around, he realised that the walls and ceiling of this cave were loose, that it might have been a hovel dug by a bear. The helicopter rose in volume as if to add urgency.

So be it.

He crouched and ambled into the narrow passage, awkward with the weight of his pack. This was no bear’s den. As the helicopters rhythmic booming receded again he could hear echoey dripping. It seemed far ahead, where the beam lit only a drifting miasma of dust and the fumes of his breath.

The walls looked irregular and crumbling, as though it would collapse if pushed, but despite the small stones and dirt clods falling on him, they felt sturdy, like hard-packed clay.

The angle of decline steepened, and the loose floor began to slide from under him in an avalanche of small stones, resembling a dry creek bed. He pitched feet-feet first into the black and slid, gaining momentum.

He closed his eyes, ‘let this be it.’

Suddenly wrenched backwards by his armpits, the pack had caught on something. His feet were kicking in empty space. It was a few seconds before the rattle and clacking of stones quieted and he could hear it, running water.

Righting his headlamp forward, he looked out into the drop below him. Some four feet below was a smooth mound of limestone, and beyond that another wide blank of darkness. With slow, deliberant movements, he dug his heels in and pushed backwards, feeling the pack dislodge. Then he flopped onto his belly and eased himself down from the ledge, sneding down a shower of pebbles, placing a boot onto the smooth pedestal of limestone, it was slick with moisture.

Casting his light below, the glittering surface of rushing water sparkled back. He looked up and could see a high vaulted limestone ceiling with what looked like the beginnings of a stalactite. This was a proper cavern. The damp walls sparkled with calcite.

The entire floor of the cavern seemed to be awash in a creek. The creek bed was a motley of coloured pebbles. He put a foot down to test the depth. His boots were waterproof to the ankle, this was about shin-deep. It was cold.

He paused for thought, and at that moment became aware of his fatigue. He gazed up at the narrow passage of light above him and thought about climbing out.

The world he sought to escape was up there. He would forever be running away from it so long as he walked the earth. But underneath...

He decided wet feet weren’t so bad. He zipped his weatherproof jacket to the neck, tugged his knit cap lower, and splashed down into the frigid water to explore. If he could find a dry and level place to sleep he would celebrate with more warm coffee and a stale bagel. Casting his light around, it was doubtful he’d find such a place here.

He became so engrossed in watching his footing that he barely noticed how long the cavern was. It opened wider and the walls were glistening with running water. Something white flicked through the water and he paused. There were a number of smooth stones about the size of his torso, and as he sat still, small white fish peeked out. They were eyeless. He sat watching them flick about in the slow current, nipping at algae growth on the creek bed. He pulled off a glove and cupped some of the water to his lips. It was clean and cold. An albino crayfish scuttled around the edge of a quartz stone, feelers waving in a current. Nudging with a boot, it darted away with a few flicks. In the cleft where the quartz sat was a faint glimmering amongst the pebbles there. He grasped a handful and sifted them through his hand. There was a bean-sized lump of gold. Unmistakably gold. There was another tiny piece of what could have been gold in the same handful. His mind reeled at the value of such a find. But then he dropped them into the water and stood up.

He was struck by two realisations, first, that his problems were not to be solved with wealth, second, that no one had been in this cave before. Else the gold would be gone. He had, quite literally, entered the unknown.

He trudged on, feet going numb.

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snake-house · 7 years

Text

Prince!France X Male!Reader - loving you

Prince!France X Prince!Cross-dressing!Male!Reader warnings: he/him and her/she pronouns used for reader [will make sense in story, but reader is male 100%] also i only put [name] since my name is gender neutral and not [male name] or [female name] *royalty au

female version ___

“Remember to stand tall, chin up, shoulders back.”

“I know.”

“Also, remember to be polite! Manners!”

"Yes, I know mother.”

“And of course, please smile.” Your mother turned to you as you both stopped in front of the door that led to the throne room.

A smile tugged at your lips as your mother rambled on about other lady-like things that you should remember to do and what not, it really warmed your heart about how much she really cared about you.

“Now [Name],” You turned from the door to look at the older woman, “I know... I know that you truly don't want this, I don't want this for you, but you know how your father is. He will do anything to better our kingdom, no matter the cost. And no matter the outcome, I will support you, even if it all collapses beneath us."

“What father gets what father wants, I know mother, it's alright.” You gave her a smile, letting her know that you were all right with the situation, “I want to please father, and if this is what he wishes, so be it."

The queen smiled at you, wrapping her arms around you in a hug, which you returned, "But,” She started as she let go of you and held you at arms-length, “I still want you to find love.”

You smile faltered at her words, but you nodded, to appease her, and let the door be opened for the two of you by one of the guards.

Now, what exactly is the situation here? It was quite simple actually. An arranged marriage that was founded upon lies.

You were a princess, well, not really, but and there was duties that came with the position. Often you would ask yourself why you of all people had to be cursed with royal blood, you would have much rather been a gardener than be the crown prince. Anyways, the duties of the crown prince were simple; be the spitting image of gracefulness itself, intellectual, but of course know when to hold your tongue, be kind to the people and to cherish the kingdom. Your kingdom was small in size, but vast in culture and liveliness. But there was something else that is important about your kingdom, the neighboring one. The neighboring kingdom was quite larger than your own, and had a culture of their own uniqueness, and likely as lively as the one your resided in. The catch was the two kingdoms went to war a long, long time ago. The war lasted for six months and contained a great amount of death and sacrifice. In the end the kingdoms signed a peace treaty that led the two kingdoms into a hundred years of peace and prosperity. After that hundred years, it brings you to today. Your father found out a month and a half ago that your peaceful neighborly king had a son around your age, and when this news was known, your marriage to the prince was set. The two kings, your father of course being one of them, thought what a better way to prolong the peace between the nations then by coming together by a beautiful marriage. But here come the lies. Because of your stature, being a rather frail and dainty prince, never being one to master the art of the sword or hand-to-hand combat, your father liked to ignore you. You were not a real prince as he liked to rant to you about, you'd be better as a princess with your love of more docile past times, such as the piano and art. With your mother always supporting you, you ignored his harsh words and happily continued on with what you loved to do. Due to the fact you were often ignored by your father, the neighboring kingdom's king didn't know your father had a child, a son to be exact, and he used it to his advantage. When the two met to discuss what they would do to keep the peace between your kingdoms, your father let it slide that he had a daughter, not a son. Your father thought it was a brilliant plan. Let the fool of a king think you were a girl until after the marriage was complete, since divorce was taboo, and just let it be known you were barren as the reason why you can't produce any heirs. Your father was a stupid man.

The queen walked in before you, to have you follow her. Her head was held high, shoulders back and spine straight. She was indeed the perfect queen and a much better ruler than your father. You matched her posture to the very last muscle, but it was obvious that yours was still more naive and passive, not at defiant as your mother’s. Even after months of practicing, you still found it slightly uncomfortable to walk in or rather just wear a corset. Your father sat in his throne next to the king that was soon going to be your father-in-law. The two were just chatting away. Your mother took her seat next to her husband, catching their attention and alerting your arrival. The two men stood up as you approached the thrones, both with gleaming smiles.

You curtsied to them all, “Good day father.” you said as you rose from your curtsy. Your father hired a linguist to help you train your vocal cords to talk at a higher pitch.

He beamed at you, “And a good day to you, my dear, did you have any issues waking this morning?”

“Of course not.” You replied with a small smile.

The king matched your smile, “You remember King Louis?” He asked as if there wasn’t a doubt that you forgot him. “Yes I do,” You smiled at him, he returning the gesture. How could you forget the man, he visits at least once a month, even more at times. You always had to hide away in your room or in the gardens when he came over.

“That’s wonderful! Since it is drawing near to your wedding," Three weeks to be exact, you thought, "We thought it was a good idea for you and Francis to get to know each other a little more. How does that sound.”

You didn't let it show on your face how your stomach dropped at the idea, “That sounds like a wonderful idea.” But you had no choice in the matter.

“Excellent.” Just then, King Louis waved over a man from the window that you didn’t even notice before, to come over to where you all were.

You watched the man as he approached, analyzing him. So this is the man I am to marry, You thought, not that you resented him or anything. He had golden hair, shoulder length, but nothing too extravagant or special. He was taller than you of course, most people were since you were cursed not only with royal blood, but the simple height of 5 foot 4 inches. But women were expected to be small and dainty in this age. He wore royal clothing, nothing too formal, it was more relaxed, much like the [color] dress you were wearing. Now what caught you the most was his sparkling blue eyes. They were beautiful, you didn’t think a man could be this beautiful, it really caught you off guard.

“[Name], Zhis iz my son Francis, your fiance.” As soon as the words left King Louis’s mouth, you felt your heart sink a little bit more.

Despite this, you put a smile on and curtsied before him, bowing your head slightly, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” You spoke softly, not wanting to come off too strong.

As you stood up to your full height, Francis swiftly caught your hand, bowing slightly to you to kiss the back of your hand, “Excuse me princess, but zhe pleasure iz all mine.” His voice was like silk and almost intoxicating to listen too. You gave him a smile before turning to look at your father, “You both are free to go, just stay within the castle’s gates.”

With a nod to your father’s words, “Yes father,” you curtsied to the two kings, even though your hand was still held by Francis.

He smiled broadly at you before he tucked your arm around his, escorting you to the doors.

To say the least, he was not at all what you expected, but of course you didn’t really know him yet. He was certainly charming, but there was something else there that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

There was small talk here and there as the two of you decided to make your way out to the garden to talk, it was a pleasant atmosphere out there. It was the place where you went when you needed to just escape the heavy lies that made up your life now.

“So tell me princess-"

You stopped him there, “[Name] is fine, we don’t need to use formalities if we are to be wed in three weeks.”

A low chuckle escaped his broad chest, “Of course, [Name], I zhink zhat iz zhe best, I would love for you to call me Francis as well,” You returned his smile, “Anyvays, I was actually wondering ‘ow you felt about zhe marriage. You are two years younger zhan me, so I wasn’t sure 'ow you would take zhe news.”

“Age is a number, maturity comes from experience,” You stated confidently, looking at the flowers that surrounded the two of you, “I am completely fine with the marriage if you ask me, even if there could be complications. Finding love is far to difficult in the world, so being arranged to marry someone doesn’t bother me. If it appeases my father and my kingdom, I don’t have a worry in the world about it.” When you finished talking, Francis stopped walking immediately. You looked over at him to see if something wrong, but your eyes just met a very serious look.

“Do not say zhat [Name], love is very important.” The tone in his was dangerously serious, it almost frightened you.

“I don’t think it is very important because just like every other emotion, love will come and love will go. Why try to find something that is never going to stay and never going to fulfill you?” You questioned him with your own seriousness.

Francis’s lips were pressed into a firm line. The look on his face resembled the look people get when they were in deep thought, but he looked like he wasn’t sure what to do nor say.

But finally, “Let me show you what love iz.” left his lips.

The blonde started to walk again, swiftly taking you with him, and led you to the front of your castle. His words made you apprehensive and on guard. There were too many lies you had to maintain, and it scared you if he would find a way to break the walls you had up. There was a large water fountain there, and one the edge of the fountain, Francis sat down, again, taking your with him.

“Just like water,” Francis said, taking your hand and dipping it in the water, “Love keeps flowing and never stops. Water cannot be contained either. Water can take zhe shape of a glass, a bowl, even a plate, it has no form. The form of love iz simply 'ere.” He brought the hand that wasn’t holding yours in the water and touched the middle of your chest, “Your 'eart.”

Yes, he had a good point, but love is just another useless emotion especially when he would eventually find out you were a girl, and your eyes showed your continuing hesitance, “But-”

He cut you off, “No, no questions and you cannot speak until I am finished showing what love iz. Understand princess?” You slowly nodded, “Bon! Let us continue elsewhere.” Francis flashed you a smile and pulled you up from the fountain’s edge where you both sat, taking you back into the garden. When you entered the garden, you noticed how Francis firmly still held your hand, but you thought nothing of it.

“Tell me [Name], what iz your favorite flower?” He asked, looking around at the various flowers.

All you could think was Do I have permission to speak? You just assumed yes because he asked the question, not you, “Uh, my favorite flower would have to be [Favorite flower].”

“Excellent choice, are zhere any in zhe garden?” He asked. With a nod, you started leading him deeper into the garden where the flowers sat. Of course the garden would have your favorite flowers. Your father made sure the landscaper at least put a few in there somewhere, but the landscaper went above and beyond than you and your father expected. It was one of the scarce handful of things he has done solely for your own pleasure.

A smile played at your lips as you approached the special place that held your flowers. It was a pure white gazebo towards the edge of the garden, and there were flower boxes hanging off the edge of the gazebo that held [fav. flowers]. Whenever your father always insisted of calling this [Name]’s gazebo, because it was built just for you. Sometimes he could be a loving father.

“Zhis is beautiful [Name]!” Francis beamed, now dragging you along into the gazebo. But he quickly returned to his serious state and sat down with you on one of the benches, “So [Flowers] are your favorite."

You smiled at him and nodded.

He smiled back and turned to the flower box that held the flowers, "You would say flowers are fragile, oui?” You nodded, “Yes, and love iz fragile thing too.” He carefully picked one of the from the flower box and handed it to you.

The gesture was sweet, you took the flower and sniffed the amazing fragrance, “Thank you.”

Francis nodded and continued, “Like zhe petals of a flower, love iz delicate. Love iz sweet and beautiful, just like a flower.” When you looked up from the flower, your eyes immediately were sucked into his vivid blue eyes.

A blush slowly sunk into your cheeks as you continued to stare back at him, finding it incredibly hard to look away, and the wold stopped spinning. A strange feeling started fluttering in your chest, and as if he understood what was going on with your body chemistry, Francis smiled. It wasn’t one of his loud grins, it was a sweet, small smile, only for you to see. It scared you.

And he began to talk again, “Until zhis morning, I resented marrying you.” His statement startled you, but he went on to explain, “I detested zhe idea of an arranged marriage. I wanted to control who I would love for zhe rest of my life, I wanted to pick who I would have the joy of waking up every morning and see, I wanted to control who would bare my children.” His voice rose a little, but it softened, “On the ride in the carriage this morning, all my father would talk about was your beauty and 'ow polite you were, and let’s not forget 'ow 'e went on and on about your many talents.” You blushed bashfully at this, making him chuckle, “I 'ear you’re quite intelligent, and when you don’t think anyone’s listening, you 'ave a witty tongue,” You blush was fierce now. The only one who knew you were skilled with words was your tutor Arthur, “Don’t worry, I find zhat a wonderful trait in a woman.” You relaxed a little, “As my father bragged about you, I still was upset about zhe whole arrangement,” You were about to protest and say that if he really wanted, he could call off the arrangement, but he started talking again before you could, “But when you and your mother walked into zhe zhrone room, my world stopped. I could tell zhat you didn’t notice me at first, but zhat didn’t matter to me. I was truly enchanted by you. You were indeed as beautiful as everyone 'ad told me.” He smiled and took both of your hands in his, the flower was set in your lap, “And I knew zhat I loved you, and I knew I experienced love at first sight. Because when you walked into my life like zhat, nothing and nobody else mattered.” He kissed your knuckles, making that same fluttering feeling arise again, “So when you said zhat you didn’t believe in love, it crushed me."

Francis stood, taking you with him, still holding your hands, he got down on one knee, "Zhere is no need for me to propose to you since we are getting married in zhree weeks, but I promise you zhis; If you let me, I want to show you what love iz all about. I want you to fall in love with me, but I don’t want it to me forced. It will take time, but I 'ope it won’t take too long. Will you allow me to win you 'eart?” You blushed heavily at his words. Nobody besides your mother has ever been this considerate of you. It warmed you through to the core.

“I would be honored my prince.” You smiled brightly, egging on a smile of his own.

He hopped up from his place on the ground and wrapped his strong arms around your smaller frame, enveloping you in his warmth. You wasted no time in returning his hug.

You knew that he said he was there to help you fall in love with him, but you knew you already did. And now, you were scared. -- The wedding was to be held in the chapel where your father was crowned king when he turned twenty-five, just after his father's death. You were just born at the time. A week before the wedding, Francis, along with his family, arrived to stay in the castle for the wedding. You had to be on guard the entire time. Thankfully no one ever intruded on your private chambers. The week was pretty uneventful for the most part, the only time that came close to something going wrong was when you were up late and ran to the kitchens for a snack and a glass of water, you almost ran into Francis along the way. You hid inside a chest for a full ten minutes until you were sure he passed. Even though you had started wearing women's night gowns to bed, you knew if a lamp caught you at the right angle, you would see you didn't have a pair of bosoms under the nightie. It was the day before the wedding when you really started feeling everything, all the lies weighing heavily on you. Francis was so sweet to you, treating you like a princess as cliche and redundant as it sounded. You knew you loved him, maybe not yet in love with him, but you were so close. The only thing that was stopping you was yourself. And that evening, you broke. "Francis?" You whispered, drawing the blond from the book he was reading to where you stood in the doorway of the library. He smiled at you the instant his eyes landed on your form, "Yes?" He stood, closing the book to meet you at the door, "Did you need something?" "I-I was wondering if we could talk," You glanced around the library and spotted a maid in the corner dusting a few of the shelves, "In private." "Of course, where would you like to talk?" Francis wrapped your arm around his and led you from the library. With a moment's thought, "How about the gazebo? The lights in the garden should still be on for a few hours." You said, looking out one of the windows in the hall showing the setting sun. "That sounds lovely," The prince quickly led you both out to the gardens, "Should I be worried about zhis talk? Or are you just feeling nervous for tomorrow?" You smiled, taking in a deep breath as you two stepped out of the castle, "I am nervous, and I suppose you could say that is why I wished to speak with you." You waited until you were both seated in the gazebo before you let your smile drop and start talking again, "I wanted to speak with you because I find myself falling so hard and so fast for you, Francis," The blond beamed at your words, but you stopped him from speaking, "But because of the fact, I just can't seem to let myself love you the way you claim to love me because of walls holding me back." Francis fished out a blue handkerchief to wipe away the tears you didn't even know started to fall. "What I am about to tell you is quite serious, and I would completely and wholly understand if you wish to break off our marriage," You were starting to worry the male, "And I wouldn't blame you for doing so." "What iz it [Name]?" He asked softly, holding one of your hands and brushing his thumb over the top of it in order to try to soothe you. You glanced at your hands, smiling a little before you looked up to meet his eyes, "I-I'm not who you think I am, I'm not a princess," You took a deep breath, "I'm the crown prince. My father was ashamed of me and the fact I wasn't strong or a warrior, and because of that, no body really knew of me. And when he found out about you, he formed the lie that I was a girl in order to seal our kingdoms together," You smiled sadly, and looked away, not wanting to see the disgust in his eyes, "My father had it all planned out, every last detail, and I am sorry for the fact. Like I said before, I would not blame you for leaving at all." There was a long pause of silence from Francis, and of course you thought of the worse. He was going to leave, he was going to hit you and proclaim it to his family that you were a disgusting man with homosexual feelings for him. You knew you were deserve it all for lying to him, but it still hurt, because you did fall in love with him. But then, he started laughing. It was far from the mocking laugh you had expected, it was a laugh of relief. "Wh-Why are you laughing?" You asked, furiously wiping your cheeks with the handkerchief Francis was just using earlier. Francis cupped your face in his hands. His touch was so soft and hesitant, "I'm laughing because I couldn't be any more relieved zhat you're a boy." Your eyes widened at his response, "But why? You said that you wanted children, and-and I can't bear you children..." "I do want children, but I am not opposed to adopting a child with you, not at all," He lightly brushed his thumbs over your cheeks, "I've always wanted kids, but I also knew I had more attraction towards people of my own sex than women. I would 'ave loved you the same if you were a woman, but since you are not, it's amazing that you are who you are." You blushed at his words, shocked and relieved yourself that he was alright with the new information coming to light, "Really? You're fine with this? Even with the fact I will probably have to wear dresses for the rest of my life?" Francis chuckled again, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, "I am more zhan fine with zhis, and you don't 'ave to wear dresses for your whole life, unless you want to," Francis smiled at your look of confusion, "You must not know much about my kingdom, but, we are much more tolerant of same sex couples than one would think. Though, my father would have preferred you to be a woman, but we can deal with zhat after we are married." Finally, after it all really sunk in, you smiled. You smiled brighter than you have in a long time. Francis leaned his forehead against yours, matching your wide smile with one of his own, "I know it is not tradition, but, may I kiss you?" You didn't answer him with words, you simply leaned forward until your lips connected with his. Your parents probably would have been upset that you shared your first kiss before your wedding, but at the moment, you couldn't care less. His lips molded perfectly to yours and moved in sync. The feeling of his lips coaxing yours to life was exhilarating and set fire to every nerve in your body. You knew by confessing to him, you finally let yourself fall completely in love with him. It felt as if he made you whole. "I love you." You whispered when you two finally separated. "I know," Francis replied, pecking your lips one last time before pulling you to your feet along with him, "I love you too. Now, let's get some rest, we're getting married tomorrow."

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