#it’s been so long since I dunked myself in brother angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kurt-nightcrawler · 4 years

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Together Again

John Allerdyce x Female Reader

Request: Hi! I love your your writing (especially the mother nature ones and crush honestly,,,,, art lmao) and I was wondering if you could write something else for John? Like honestly anything I'm just really starved for pyro content 😂 if you don't want to then uh dw 💜

A/N: if you guys want a blurb about wedding vows or baby making sex let me know!!

Warnings: teen pregnancy, swearing, mentions of sex, and some angst.

Word Count: 8.9k

“Hey, I know it’s been a while, but I miss you… and I know I shouldn’t… but I can’t help myself. I’m really sorry for everything I did. I hurt you, I acted out, I ruined all the relationships I had at the mansion…” His voice faltered as tears fell from his eyes.

“Um, you don’t have to call me back… I’m just really sorry for being such an asshole… You deserved better…”

You jokingly scoffed to yourself.

Typical John, You mused. Never realizing his potential.

“I love you…”

The voice message ended. You felt your eyes watering. Despite it all, you missed him. You missed John so much.

He joined Magento’s army, brotherhood, and left you. You didn’t want to side with either of them, Charles or Erik.

You wanted to run away somewhere, live a small-town life, maybe in Europe or something. You hadn’t really figured out all the details, but you assumed that figuring it out as you went along would suffice. As long as you had John by your side, nothing could get in your way.

But then he wasn’t by your side. And your entire world came crashing down.

You had woken up to an empty bed. Unusual, since John was in it with you the night before.

His clothes were gone, and it felt like he had never been there to start with.

You got yourself out of bed, not even bothering to change out of your pajamas. You wanted to know where he went.

You made it downstairs to the den, where your friends were seated with some staff members.

“Ah, (Y/N),” Xavier said. “You’re awake. Please sit down.”

You sat down on the couch next to Kitty. “What’s going on? Where’s John?”

“Allerdyce left,” Logan stated with a bitter tone.

“Left? What do you mean he left?”

“Magento is forming a new brotherhood of mutants, and he’s planning to attack Worthington industries.”

“Is this about the “cure”?” You asked.

Xavier nodded, “John left to join him.”

No… You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “That can’t be true. He wouldn’t just leave and not tell anyone. He would have told me if he was thinking about joining forces with Magento!”

“(Y/N),” You looked over at Bobby, “We had an argument in our room late last night. I tried to convince him to stay but—“

“No…” You were shaking. “You’re— you’re lying!” You stood up too quickly and you got a head rush.

“I wish I was—“

You felt like you were going to be sick. You could hear the blood pounding in your ears. Your vision was blurry, and you were sweating.

You ran to the nearest trash can and dunked your head in as you heaved.

Kitty held your hair back and rubbed your back. “Let it out. Let it out, (Y/N)...”

You puked your guts out until you didn’t have the energy to continue. Then, you turned over, moving your head out of the trash and started crying.

No one knew what to do about you— and Magneto trying to kill a bunch of people was a bit more of a pressing issue.

You didn’t want to go to Worthington industries and fight. You didn’t want to see him. You wanted to be left alone.

Plus, with your mutation, the X-Men thought you’d be a good guard for the mansion if anything happened.

It was a few days before anyone came back, and while they were gone you caught a stomach bug. Constantly vomiting, bad cramps, and your chest was extremely sore.

You didn’t know what to do about it, so you kept a trash can nearby and drank lots of water and took some ibuprofen.

When everyone returned, Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue, all ran to hug you, knowing you’d need it.

“I punched him for you,” Bobby whispered. You held him tighter and let silent tears rain down your face as you hugged him.

The three of them told you about the battle, and what happened to everyone, and a new addition to the team— Scott’s younger brother, Alex Summers, who had apparently been friends with one of the brotherhood members, but decided to switch sides and support his brother.

He was in the medical bay downstairs with everyone else, getting checked out.

“What have you been up to?”

You let out a weak laugh, “Nothing much. I’ve been watching tv and puking my guts out the past few days…”

Your friends nodded in sympathy. “You’re probably sick from all the stress…” Rogue commented.

“Yeah, that’s probably it. When it’s a good time, I’ll ask Dr. Grey to give me some medicine other than pain killers.”

“Good idea…”

“I’m gonna go shower,” Rogue said, getting up from the couch.

“Me too! Kitty replied. “Are you going to change Bobby?”

He looked over at her, “Uh, yeah. I will in a little bit.” The girls walked off, satisfied with his answer.

You patted Bobby’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t talk him out of leaving…”

“He’s… He’s stubborn. I don’t think any of us could have convinced him to stay…”

“(Y/N)...” Bobby sighed.

“He never told me about even wanting to leave!” Your words stung in the air like venom.

“He’s not coming back, is he?”

Bobby shook his head, “I don’t think so. After the fight, the brotherhood just kind of wandered off… We have no idea where any of them went—“

“And that includes John…”

There was a pregnant pause before Bobby spoke up.

“He really loves you.”

“Not enough to stay,” You scoffed.

“He just didn’t want you to get hurt… And while he’s dumb as shit, deep down, he meant well…”

“It’s just…” You snuffled your nose. “Three years, B. We were together for three years. He confided in me, and we trusted each other and we were gonna move out to the countryside in France or maybe Denmark…” Your cries interrupted your words, and all Bobby could do was hug you. Trying his best to comfort you.

You weren’t sick with a stomach bug from stress— you were pregnant.

It was simultaneously the best and worst news of your life. Everyone was supportive and kept reminding you, you didn’t have to keep it, you were only 18.

You weren’t sure what you were going to do. John wasn’t there and you had almost no money.

You didn’t want to raise a child alone, but you didn’t want to send them into foster care either.

It was a messy situation, and with each week passing by, your baby grew, reminding you to make a decision.

“I’m going to keep it. I’m going to stay here and raise my baby. It’ll probably be a mutant, so what better place for a mutant child to grow up?”

Everyone was excited for you and your baby. Kitty was excited to “be an aunt”, Rogue was excited, ablet a little nervous, with her no-touch rule, and Bobby just wanted you to be happy.

You found out you were having a boy, and you were so excited, you cried. Jean and Ororo threw a baby shower for you and Bobby, Logan, and Scott helped redo your room so it could function for the baby too.

Everything was going great. So great, in fact, you didn’t think about him most nights.

You still longed for John, and you wanted him there with you, to see your baby at the ultrasound screenings, feel him kick for the first time, and decide on names. But you had to remain strong. With or without John, you needed to be a good mom for your son.

Before and after his birth.

No one was allowed on the roof normally, but you were especially not allowed in your condition.

Yet you went up there anyway, for a moment of quiet and alone time.

You had snuck up to the roof before in your 4 years at Xavier’s. Most times it had been to hide with John. Or just lay and star gaze— your head resting on his chest, and his hands either preoccupied with his flames, or they’d be in your hair.

You placed a hand on your stomach, thinking it would maybe soothe you, but it didn’t really work.

You heard footsteps, and you quickly looked over to see who it was.

“Sorry— I uh, I didn’t think anyone was up here.” He started to leave.

“Alex, no, you’re fine. You can stay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! Of course.” He walked over and sat next to you.

“How’ve you been?”

“Good, good.” He nodded. “How have you been?”

“Same as you…” You both awkwardly laughed together.

“That’s good.”

“Mmhmm…”

Alex shifted in his spot awkwardly.

“Are you uh… are you excited about being a mom?”

You laughed. He was so nervous. “Yeah. I mean, I’m nervous as hell, but I have all my friends around, more than willing to help me, and my life is secure and safe.”

Alex nodded, shy and awkward, yet attentive.

“Is… Is Bobby excited about being a dad?”

You were shocked. “Bobby’s gay.”

“I know, but wait— isn’t he— is he—“ Alex was so confused.

“Bobby’s probably my best friend here, his old roommate, um, he’s the father…”

Alex’s face was red as a tomato. “Oh…”

He knew about Bobby’s old roommate, seeing as he took over his spot in his room. He didn’t know much, and he was pretty sure he died or something.

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine. You didn’t know…”

“Did he… did he die?”

You rubbed your eyes. “No… he left to join the brotherhood, days before I found out I was pregnant…” Alex listened to your every word. He still didn’t know who this guy was, considering he too, joined the brotherhood during the battle at Worthington industries, but so did a ton of other mutants.

“I don’t really know how to contact him now, and… I don’t really want to at the moment.”

“You don’t have to…” Alex said. “He left, and that’s his problem.”

“Yep… And besides, I’m not alone. I have my friends and family here.”

“Yeah, see! You’re doing great.”

You laughed at Alex’s words. He was cute and dorky. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

You were crying. Crying in pain, in joy, in sorrow, in relief— you were extremely emotional. Your baby was finally born.

Once he got all cleaned up, umbilical cord cut, and was in your arms, laying on your bare chest for some bonding, people started coming in.

At first, it was just Bobby, Kitty, Rogue, and Alex. They had some flowers, balloons, and presents with them.

“We got you some things…” Rogue began.

“Awww... how are you guys?” Kitty interrupted.

“We’re fine. He’s asleep.” You glanced down at your chest.

“He’s so small.” Alex’s eyes were glossy.

“He’s all pink,” Bobby observed.

Kitty hit him on the arm, “He just came out of her vagina!”

You laughed, “He was a C-section.”

“Oh, I was a tumor baby.” Everyone looked at Bobby like he grew a second head. “What?”

Rogue rolled her eyes, “Anyway, we all got you a card and some gifts.” She set them down on the ledge near the visiting chairs and window.

“You guys didn’t have to do that.”

“Most of them are for the little guy,” Alex said.

“Still! He’s gonna be so spoiled…”

Your nurse walked in after you said that. “Alright mama, we gotta get him weighed and everything. Just get stuff for the birth certificate…” She set papers down on your table tray. “If you’re up for it, you can fill stuff out now, or have someone else do it for you… We’ll be back in a little bit.”

“Aww, bye…” Your friends cooed at your son.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “He’ll be in the nursery, and you can go see him in a little bit. Then if he’s fine, he’ll be back here with me and you guys can hold him.”

“We can’t stay in here forever. This room is too small, plus Scott and his posse wanna come say hi.”

“Right, right.” You took a sip from your water bottle the hospital gave you and looked at the birth certificate and other papers with it.

“So… What’s his name?”

“I don’t know…” You admitted. You hadn’t really thought of a name.

Well, you had, but it was kind of stupid.

You wanted to name him after John, his father because he was one of the few things you had left of John. You also wanted to name him after Bobby or Alex, because they’d been some of your best friends and there for you during your pregnancy.

“Well, you have sixty days to think about it.” Bobby reminded you.

“Yeah,” You yawned. “Oh boy… Sorry— Sorry, I just—“

“Nonsense. You gave birth like what maybe an hour or two ago? Take a nap. You deserve it,” Kitty told you.

“Yeah, we’ll go down to the nursery and see if we can spot him.”

“Okay, you guys sure?”

“Yes, mom,” Alex teased. “We’re sure.”

“Okay, okay.”

“We’ll be back.”

Once the four shuffled out of your room, you quickly examined the birth certificate.

You took a pen and wrote down your name, John’s, and the perfect name for your son.

“Johnathan-Robert Alexander (Y/L/N)! Get back here!” Rogue scolded.

“Sorry Marie, I just saw a cool bird, and it flew away…”

She ruffled his hair, “Your mom is gonna be mad if we don’t eat lunch. I let you play outside for an extra twenty minutes.”

“Oh, okay…”

It had been six years since your son was born. You named him after his dad and your two best guy friends. His nickname was Jr, or Junior, because of his initials.

He took after you mostly, except he had John’s eyes and mutation.

You and your friends all became X-Men and teachers at the mansion, and they all pitched in to help raise Junior, despite you telling them over and over again that they didn’t have to.

It wasn’t easy. You were a young mom— there were some pity looks at the grocery store, people asking if Junior was your little brother, you had no biological family around, despite the X-Men making up for it, and you were single.

Not the end of the world, but sometimes, late at night, you thought about John.

You know he did what he thought was right, somehow. You just wish he didn’t leave. Keeping you safe, what bullshit.

Sometimes you resented him and you were glad he was gone. Sometimes you cried and wished he was there with you.

He would have been a great dad. Nervous, and a little unsure at times, sure, but you know he’d love Junior and do anything for him.

You were grading papers when your phone rang.

You didn’t recognize the number, and you had no idea who’d be calling you at noon in the middle of the week.

It stopped ringing and you didn’t look at it again for the rest of the hour.

You glanced over at your phone as you took a bite from your salad. The caller left a message in your voice box, which was weird since spam calls usually don’t do that.

Maybe it was someone with the wrong number, thinking you were a lost loved one.

Oh god! I better listen to the message!

You picked up your phone and went to your messages.

Your finger didn’t even hover over and hesitate when it hit the play button.

You were crying. Six years later. Six years later, and he finally reached out.

You didn’t know what to do.

What did he want?

You rubbed your temple. What if he’d been in trouble with some bad people? What if he was dying?

You quickly selected his number on your screen.

“Would you like to call? Yes or no?”

Your thumb hovered over yes.

Why didn’t you just push it? What were you so afraid of?

“God…” You groaned. “What am I doing?”

“No! No, no… I have to call him back. Urgh!” You ran a hand through your hair.

“Whooooo…” You hit yes, out your phone up to your ear, and let the phone ring.

You were sweating and your heart was pounding like a drum.

What if he didn’t pick up?

“Hello?”

“Hi, John, it’s me… (Y/N).”

You asked him to come to the mansion, to sit down and talk to you. He seemed nervous over the phone, but he agreed to come and talk.

“He called you? After six years of nothing?” Kitty scoffed in disbelief.

“My number isn’t the same as it was in 2006. Plus who knows what he’s been up too since…” Your words trailed off.

“Why didn’t you ask to meet up at like a Starbucks or the library?” Alex asked.

“I want him to meet Junior.”

“Are you insane?!” Rogue asked, looking over at you.

“The mansion is a place we’re both familiar with, and he doesn’t have to see him right away…”

The three all had unsure looks on their faces.

“It’s my decision. And while you’ve all been more than supportive, I believe he has a right to meet his son. He doesn’t have to be in his life permanently, as much as I’d like that, but he should at least know about him. See him once, maybe.”

“You’re right,” Kitty spoke up. “He deserves to meet his kid. We may not like him or want him around, but Junior is his son. We can’t change that.”

“Kitty’s right. John’s not the greatest, but he always tried when it came to you, and he deserves to meet his son.”

“When is he coming over?”

“Tomorrow at 10.”

“Hey, kiddo.” You slowly opened your son’s door and peaked in. “You ready for bed?”

“Yep!” He popped the p. “I fed George and Rock and Socks.” Those were the fish in his little aquarium. “I brushed my teeth, and I put my pajamas on!”

You gave him a hug, “That’s great, sweetie!”

Junior sat under his covers in his bed, and you sat on the edge. “What’d you do in your classes today?”

“Well, Ms. Monroe read us a book about a farm where the cows found a typewriter and made the farmer change the farm up!”

Wow, starting them young.

“And then she taught us about different types of plants. Did you know broccoli is actually a flower?”

“I did not,” You blinked.

“Does this mean I don’t have to eat it anymore? People don’t eat flowers!”

Oh, Junior thought he was so slick.

“Actually kiddo, some flowers are edible. So, no, you can’t cut out broccoli.”

He frowned, “But I don’t wanna eat flowers!”

“Rules are rules… And besides, you wanna eat healthily and get strong, don’t you?”

“Yeah!” Junior’s face lit up. “So I can beat Gabe when we wrestle!”

Gabe was Scott and Alex’s 10-year-old brother, who also went to Xavier’s school. He was one of the few kids even close to Junior’s age, making them almost best friends.

“See! That’s the spirit! Now, do you want me to read to you before you go to sleep?”

“Hmm… Hmm… Hmm…”

You laughed a little, “I’ll take that as a no.”

Junior yawned, “Hmm…”

“I’ll let you get some sleep, okay?” You got up, bending down to kiss his forehead.

“Okay, mom… Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sweetie.”

You closed the door behind you as you stepped out. You stood there for a moment to take a breather.

John was going to love him, you weren’t worried about that. You were worried if you still had feelings for him and you were acting irrationally.

No, You decided as you brushed your teeth in your bathroom. I’m not acting irrationally. I’ve wanted to talk to him since he left. I have no anger or sadness left in me, and I just want to catch up.

“(Y/N),” Professor Xavier spoke into your mind. “You’re making part of the mansion shake.”

“Shit!” You dropped your toothbrush into the sink and tried to pace your breath.

“It’s alright, dear.”

You had geological manipulation, and while you had practically mastered it, you still struggled at times.

You rubbed your face with a towel and sighed.

You knew getting any sleep was out the door at that point.

You must have fallen asleep at some point and gotten some sleep because you woke up almost an hour late.

“No, no, no!” You were frantic, slipping on your clothes, trying to brush your hair and somehow rock half-assed bed head and no makeup so you could be presentable in under five minutes.

“Hey, (Y/N), you slept through your alarm—“

“I know, Bobby!” You were running down the hall to get to your classroom.

“So I got Junior dressed and ready for the day—“

You slowed down to stop and open your door, looking at Bobby. “Oh my god. Thank you so much…” You instantly wrapped him into a hug.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay…”

“I’m just so worried… about John and—“

“You’re gonna be fine,” He soothingly rubbed one of his hands on your back.

“I got no sleep last night… I’m anxious about John coming back too. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Yeah, together.”

You stood peeking through a window, waiting for him.

10:00 came, and a rugged, black Jeep pulled through the gates.

You watched him step out of the car— brown leather jacket, facial hair, and he looked slightly more muscular than you’d last seen him. He’d aged, just like you, but not in a bad way, despite the fact he looked a bit tired. But then again, so did you.

You left your hiding spot and went outside to greet him.

“Hey!”

“Hey!” He quickly checked you out, but it didn’t go undetected by you. “Wow, you look— great!”

“You too.” You stood there, face to face, unsure if a hug or a handshake was appropriate.

“So, how have you been?”

“Good, um— well, a lot has changed since you left…”

John nodded awkwardly. “But uh… I could give you a tour. Tell me about what you’ve been up to?”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“So… Bobby, Rogue, Kitty, and I all became teachers...“ John chuckled. “What? Hard to believe?”

“No, no…” He shook his head. “Are Bobby and Rogue still together?”

You laughed, “No way! Bobby came out of the closet and Marie sees some guy from New Orleans, I think his name is Remy? I’m not really sure…

John smiled, “Yeah, he told me— junior year, he didn’t like girls.”

“It hurt, Rogue,” You admitted. “But she understood.”

“Well, that’s good, I suppose…”

“Yeah, yeah.” You wandered down the halls a bit, before speaking up.

“So… what have you been up to?”

“Well, I lived in Genosha for awhile…”

“Magento’s hippie colony?”

“Hey!” He jokingly scoffed. “It’s not a hippie colony!”

“Okay, Mister.”

“Anyway, I uh, I started writing…”

You rose your brows in surprise, “Really? What do you write about?”

“Romance, mostly…” John was flustered. “Gothic romance. One of the people on Genosha knew a guy, he’s a literary agent—“

“Wait, are you…?”

“Yeah, I’m an actual published author. I only have two books out right now, the first one came out in 2008, and the other just last year.”

You were baffled, all this time, and you could have contacted him sooner somehow. “I had no idea… congratulations! That’s amazing!”

“Thank you…”

“Yeah, of course. You do anything else?”

“My mom died two years ago… I went to her funeral… I saw my dad.”

“How’d that go?”

“Not great… but, you know how it is.” You nodded in sympathy. “Anyway, what’s new with you? Besides teaching… Any new X-Men? Are you… seeing anyone…?”

“Scott’s younger brother joined the team, and he has another brother—“

“Mommy! Mom!” You froze. John noticed your shift in demeanor and glanced from you to Junior.

“Junior, you’re supposed to be in class.”

“I was, but then Stacy Brown, the girl with the lizard tongue, threw up, so Stacy got taken to Dr. Grey’s lab and Ororo let us leave early.”

“I know who Stacy Brown is, sweetie. You don’t have to tell me she has a lizard tongue. That’s not very nice to point out people’s mutations.”

Junior frowned and sulked a little, “I’m sorry…”

“I forgive you.”

John’s eyes kept moving between you and Junior. When did you have a kid? He couldn’t be any older than five or six.

“Hi. Who are you?” The kid spoke to him.

“Oh,” John crouched down to equal eye level. “I’m John… What’s your name?”

“My name is John, too! Well, actually Johnathan-Robert, I was named after my dad and one of his closest friends, even though his name isn’t actually Johnathan. Everyone calls me Junior though, cause my initials are JR.”

John was floored. He had a son.

He had a son, and he left him. He left you.

Oh, God…

“Uh, Mr… Mr. John?” Junior asked. “Why are you crying?”

“Uh, Junior, sweetie…” You trailed off. “He’s your dad.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry…”

John wiped his eyes and stood up, “What for?”

“I made you cry… I’m really sorry…”

“It’s okay. They were happy tears.” He rubbed his eyes.

“Oh… Do you wanna see my fish? I have 3 of them in my room, they live in a terrarium!”

“Aquarium,” You corrected him.

“That’s what I said!”

John smiled, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Come on, then!” Junior grabbed his hand and led him upstairs.

John moved back in.

Not with you necessarily, but he wanted to be a part of Junior’s life. He felt like the world’s biggest asshole for leaving days before you found out you were pregnant.

He joined the brotherhood because he felt like you were the only person who saw him as a decent human being. He didn’t agree with everything Xavier said and stood for, and he was tired of people comparing him to Bobby.

He wanted to fight for what he thought was right. He wanted to be able to just do what he wanted without hurting the one person he cared about. Which is why he didn’t tell you he was leaving.

But he knew he hurt you. He knew soon as the battle was over and he claimed one of the small homes on Genosha as his.

He was scared to reach out the first few months. And then he assumed you left Xavier’s and he didn’t know how to contact you from there. He only just got your number because a graduate from Xavier’s moved to Genosha, giving him your number and telling him you hadn’t left.

He didn’t even hesitate to call you. He didn’t even care if you cursed him out on the other line, yelling about how you never wanted to see him again. He just wanted to hear your voice one more time.

What he wouldn’t have done to hold you in his arms again, feel your soft, pink lips against his, your bodies pressed against each other, becoming one.

But he knew he didn’t deserve any of it. He didn’t deserve you. He knew he fucked up.

And what hurt him the most was he thought he was worse than his own father. The one who beat him, called him a monster, sent him away to a foreign country, left in the care of strangers— he thought he was worse because he wasn’t there in the beginning. He wasn’t there for the doctor’s appointments, the birth, or his first steps and words.

You talked to him. Tried to convince him he wasn’t bad, while still holding your ground and making him responsible for just up and leaving.

“I should have gone with you. You know I would have. I would have followed you to the fucking moon if you asked.”

“I know… I just thought keeping you out of all that was the best choice.”

“We were fucking kids John! We really didn’t know much. We still don’t! We’re 23 with a child.”

“You don’t have to forgive me. You don’t have to love me again. I just want to be in my son’s life, please.” He was trying his best to not cry again.

“Most of the time you’re a great guy. I want you in Junior’s life… I just… I don’t know if we can ever go back to how it was before.” I still love you, but I’m not ready to rush into anything…

“Yeah, no, I get that. You have no reason to trust me, and no obligations to date me…”

You sighed, “I want us to be friends. Not for anyone’s sake but for our own… because as much as I should… I don’t hate you.”

“Thank you.” His voice was breaking.

“Friends?”

He nodded, “Yeah, friends.” You wrapped him in your arms in place of a handshake. Neither of you said anything. Nothing needed to be said.

John had been living at the X-Mansion for almost two years. He taught an English class or two and continued to write more gothic romance novels while spending as much time as he could with Junior.

He became friends with Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue again. He became friends with Alex. He was friends with you, despite wanting more.

But he knew he didn’t deserve it, and he was just glad to get what he could.

“So… what do they like, do in Romania?”

You looked up from your lesson plan for the week and gave John a funny look.

“What do they do in Romania? Aren’t you the one writing about vampires? You should know.”

“Yeah, but you’re a history teacher!”

“I teach kids about the civil war, Marie Antionette, and the Han dynasty.”

You sometimes worked together in the library or in one of your rooms or classrooms. John— writing the next chapter of his novel— and you, usually doing lesson plans or grading tests.

“What are you writing about anyway?” You turned in your chair to watch John scribble words down in his notebook. He preferred to write down on paper first, then type it up.

“Well, she’s making Von take her on a date since she’s been living with him for a month and he confessed he liked her.”

“Isn’t Von a vampire?”

John nodded, “Half. Anyway, he’s gonna like, take her stargazing on the rooftop. I don’t know what else they’re gonna do after that.”

You pondered for a moment, “We used to do that all the time…”

“Yeah, um…”

You laughed a little, teasing him. “Do you base all your stories on our romantic endeavors?”

“Not all of them!” He defended.

“That so?” John hummed in response. “What has the great womanizer, St. John Allerdyce, been up to in his love life the last few years?”

“Not much,” He admitted. “I went on a few dates, a handful of hookups, but nothing really worked out…” He tried to shake the feeling of longing for you off, “What about you?”

“Same as you. Not much luck, especially with being a young mom, and raising a kid with two of her best friends who are guys, it tends to… scare people away…”

John swung his legs to the side of the bed, about to get up.

“They’re pussies,” He said while looking at you.

You nodded, not noticing he got up, “Yeah, besides I’m busy…”

Your train of thought was forgotten as John’s eyes looked into yours. You weren’t speaking.

Your eyes glanced down at his lips. They were soft and pink.

You cleared your throat, trying to distract yourself from your thoughts, unaware John’s brain was on the same page as yours.

He unexpectedly pressed his lips against yours. You were wide-eyed with shock as he did so. You weren’t expecting that.

But you were glad it happened.

He broke away too quickly for your liking. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“Do it again.”

“What?” John almost thought you were kidding.

“Kiss me again, Sinjin.”

And so he did. His lips collided with yours, your mouths moving in sync.

His weight and force caused you to fall back in your chair, with John straddling your waist. Your hands were tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to moan a little against your mouth. His hands were roaming up and down your body.

You partially ground against his crotch, causing him to break his lips away from yours and curse.

It didn’t last long, as he went back to kissing your lips like a horny teenager, pulling your shirt up off of you.

“Wait, wait, stop.” John froze, looking you directly in the eyes, his face barely two inches away from yours.

“Is everything alright?”

“Buy me dinner first, before you undress me, okay?”

You didn’t want to get carried away. You wanted a clear mind before you slept with him again. Kissing and going on a few dates and whatever else you were doing was enough at that moment.

He nodded, in total awe of you— The small details of your face one could only see if they were this close— “Tomorrow at 7. Does that work for you?”

“That’s perfect.”

“So I need you— if you can’t that’s fine! You have lives of your own— but I kind of need someone to watch Junior for the night.”

You really hated asking people to babysit, but it was Kitty and Rogue. They wouldn’t care.

“Not that we won’t do it,” Kitty said. “But why can’t John watch him?”

“Well—“

suddenly, Bobby burst through the door, screaming the girls’ names.

“KATHERINE! ANNA MARIE! I HAVE HUGE NEWS!”

“What is it?”

“John—“ He looked at you, and then stopped his sentence.

“Oh… I’m assuming you told them.”

“Told us what?” Rogue asked.

“John and (Y/N) are going on a date.”

“Finally,” Kitty let out.

You were confused, “What do you mean, finally?”

“Are— are you serious?” Bobby asked in disbelief.

You nodded.

“You two are so in love, it’s sickening sometimes!” Rogue scoffed.

“We are not!” You knew that wasn’t true. You obviously still had feelings and so did he, but love? You weren’t sure if it was that.

“Please, he never stopped loving you, and you never stopped loving him.”

“Bobby…”

“(Y/N)...”

You groaned.

“Look, I’m not gonna push you into saying the L-word anytime soon, but the guy writes romance novels for fuck’s sake! You’re gonna have a great time no matter what.”

Yeah, you thought to yourself as John drove down the crowded New York roads.

We’re gonna have a great time no matter what.

You went to some restaurant that just opened. It wasn’t too fancy or too casual, but since it was new, you still needed a reservation.

After dinner, you walked around the city streets, just catching up, looking at shops and apartment buildings and all the people.

It almost felt like you were teenagers again.

Holding hands, watching the sunset…

John pulled out his phone to snap a few pictures. You decided to try and photobomb, making dumb faces and peeking your head into view of the camera.

John shifted his hands and arms so you were the camera’s main focus.

The way the sun's rays reflected through the lens behind you making you glow, (John already thought you were most of the time), your goofy smile— he took a picture, but to him, it looked more like a renaissance painting.

He glanced away from his phone to see you without a lense.

You still looked like a heavenly being to him. You always did— strong, beautiful, intelligent, witty, and you were an amazing mom.

He didn’t have anyone to use as a base for “mom skills”, but he didn’t need that to know you were amazing. Not just with Junior, but all the young kids at the mansion.

Of course, there were times when you faltered or felt like you weren’t good enough, times where you would make the mansion shake on accident, but everyone had weak points.

John didn’t see you as any lesser for them, he knew your life wasn’t easy. Even if he had never left, it wouldn’t have been perfect.

But he couldn’t dwell on the past forever, despite how much he wanted to at some of his weaker moments.

“Whatcha looking at?”

He blinked. “You… The sunset… You look like an angel.”

You nervously laughed, “Stop it.”

John put his phone away and got back to your side.

“I’m serious, you’re beautiful…”

Your gaze fell down to your feet, not unnoticed by John.

“Hey,” He cupped your face with his hand, forcing your gaze on him. “It’s okay if you don’t believe me right now, but you will one day… I promise you that.”

His hand faltered and you hugged him.

“God, you’re so nice to me.”

“I don’t deserve you.” He plainly stated.

You narrowed your eyes at him and pointed a finger. “No self-deprecating talk!”

John laughed at your attitude shift. It was cute. “Alright, but that means nothing from you either.“

“Fine.”

John kissed the top of your head, causing you to smile like a madman. It made his heart flutter a bit.

Your first date was almost two years ago. It seemed so long ago, yet almost like it was yesterday.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm.

You immediately woke up, but John just groaned and stirred in his sleep a little.

He had an arm wrapped around you, so you had to wiggle your way out of bed. “Come on, sleepyhead…”

John groaned some more, his grip on you just got tighter.

“If you don’t let me out, I’ll pee on the bed.”

John’s eyes shot open, and you smirked to yourself, having been victorious.

“That would be hot.”

You gagged as you walked into your bathroom. “Gross!”

John followed you, “You know I’m just joking.”

You shook your head, a smile evident on your face. “I know, I know.”

You turned the sink on and began washing your face. John used the empty space in the mirror to brush out his bed head.

You caught him starring at you a few times as you both went through your morning routines.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” He kissed the crook of your neck. “Today’s just gonna be a good day. That’s all. I can feel it.”

You let his words sink in for a moment.

“Yeah, today’s gonna be a good day.”

That’s when John knew. His instinct, gut, or whatever you call it, knew this was it.

He casually walked out of the bathroom and grabbed a small box. You were preoccupied with applying some makeup.

He came back in, on one knee in the doorway.

You looked over at him, nearly dropping your brush on to the floor, your jaw slack.

“(Y/N), I love you. And this isn’t some big romantic gesture, but love isn’t only seen in big romantic gestures. It’s the small things, the intimate moments. I did have something planned, but I really couldn’t wait. I love you… and…” John’s words trailed off. He was starting to cry. Your eyes were watering too.

“Will you marry me?”

You nodded, “Yes, yes!”

John got up and kissed you. Then he slipped the ring on your finger.

You admired it, “Wow… it’s beautiful…”

“So are you.”

You kissed him without missing a beat.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

John didn’t hesitate with that.

People cheered and some jokingly wolf-whistled. Junior made a sour face.

Your wedding was magical, and despite having to say hello to every guest and dance at least twice, you were happy. So happy.

John was happy too. He had a big smile on his face the whole time, no matter what and he was so excited to call himself your husband.

Some people teased him and others were very surprised, claiming John was really out of his element.

You knew better though. You both just loved each other, and after John spilled his guts on how much he loved you in front of everyone at the altar, he couldn’t care less who saw him like this.

You just had a quick breakfast before you had to teach your first-hour class. You didn’t think anything of it as you were running a bit behind.

You were fine though, and your schedule was going smoothly, your class was taking notes as you talked about the French Revolution. Students were asking questions when needed, and most of them were paying attention.

Suddenly, you felt a wave of nausea hit you. You tried to keep it down, but you couldn’t, and immediately darted to the trash can near your desk.

Your students were murmuring among each other, unsure of what to do.

“Um… Ms. (Y/L/N)? Are you okay?”

You used a tissue to wipe your mouth and applied some hand sanitizer.

“Yeah— um—“

You couldn’t come up with an excuse though, for one of your students opened a portal and grabbed John and another teacher.

John rushed to your aid, asking if you were alright.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“I’m gonna take you to Dr. Grey. Piotr, can you watch her class for a little bit?”

“Yeah, sure.” He replied, a little unsure and worried about your well being.

John helped you out of your classroom, despite you insisting you didn’t need help.

Thankfully Jean was in the lab, so you didn’t have to go looking for her.

As you explained what happened, John sat at your side like a nervous puppy.

“Babe, I’m not going to die. I probably just ate something bad and my stomach didn’t agree with it.”

“Food poisoning is really serious—“

“It’s probably not that.”

“You rarely get sick aside from the common cold or seasonal allergies.” He reminded you.

Jean smiled, at how much John was worrying. It showed he cared.

“Have you had anything else happen to you lately?”

“I’ve been a lot more tired, and more headaches, but that’s just aging, right?”

“Probably. I’m gonna have you fill this out though, just in case.” Jean handed you a clipboard with a questionnaire attached.

You read each question, leaving a checkmark or an x, depending on what it was. You handed it back to Jean and she read it over.

“I’m gonna have you pee in a cup, just so I can test it for a few things.” Jean opened a plastic wrapping and handed you a small plastic cup.

“Bathroom’s on the right.”

You came back quickly, informing Jean you left the cup in the bathroom.

“I’ll go get that… and I should be back with your results soon.”

She walked out, leaving you and John alone.

You checked your phone, seeing some missed texts from Kitty.

KITTY: Hey

KITTY: heard you puked in class today :( you alright?

(Y/N): yeah, I’m in Jean’s lab. She’s testing my urine for something…

KITTY: oh my god! Are you pregnant?

(Y/N): What!!?

KITTY: that’s usually why they test urine. Although, when I’d go to the dr. they’d make me pee to see if there was like protein in my pee or something

KITTY: idk

(Y/N): There’s no way!

(Y/N): Well...

KITTY: *side eye emoji* didn’t you tell me your period was a little late?

(Y/N): Yeah, but that’s normal!

KITTY: You’re almost 30

(Y/N): So? Your period isn’t always regular, and we’re the same age

KITTY: I’m a lesbian. You have a husband.

You turned your phone off. What if you were pregnant again?

Obviously, you were in a good place, you would be fine having a kid. (Plus, Junior had been asking for a sibling awhile back.) You just hadn’t really discussed it with John.

Why mess up a good thing? You, know? You didn’t need another child, but you wouldn’t be disappointed.

Oh god! You were definitely pregnant and what if John didn’t want more kids? What if your body couldn’t handle carrying another baby? What if—

“Sweetheart, you’re shaking.” John’s hands held yours, trying to keep them from moving. “Are you alright? Do you feel like you’re gonna faint?”

“I might be pregnant…” You whispered. You don’t know why you whispered it.

“Are you sure?”

“My period is late— but even after five different kinds of birth controls it’s never really been on a regular schedule. Me throwing up could have been morning sickness—“

John couldn’t hide the smile on his face. You were rambling about how you were probably pregnant and how worried you were. He just held your hand, and calmly said your name.

“(Y/N), you’re gonna be okay. You’re an amazing mom, and I’m gonna be with you through all of it this time.”

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

Jean came back with your results.

“So?”

“You must have eaten something bad, or your period is coming up. Some women vomit during PMS.”

“Am I pregnant?” You asked.

“No, why? We’re you expecting that?”

“Oh, no. We’re not— I just thought— cause you made me pee—“

Jean shrugged as she typed on her computer. “I did test for that. But no baby…”

You nodded, asking what to do next.

John sat, lost in his thoughts. He was so excited at the thought of you being pregnant.

Do I want another kid?...

When Junior had asked for a sibling not too long ago, John said, “No way.”

Now?

“Just drink plenty of water, and bed rest. I’ll get someone to cover your classes for tomorrow after we disinfect your room. If you don’t puke or have any new symptoms within the next 48 hours, you can go back to teaching.”

“Make sure she stays in her room, okay?” Jean said to John.

“Yes, ma’am.” He half-joked.

John led you up to your shared room, shutting the door behind him.

“Lay on the bed. I’ll get you some pajamas, and then some water. How do you feel? Do you need more blankets? I’m sure I can get Bobby to cover my next class, I can cuddle with you if you’d like.”

“No, Sinjin, I’m fine, really… besides, I can make another lesson plan, or finish my book—“

“Oh no, you don’t. Jean said you needed to rest. So, that’s exactly what you’re gonna do. Even if that means I have to sit and watch you.”

“Creep,” You teased as you changed into your pajamas.

“Edward did it with Bella,” He argued, while quickly texting Bobby, asking to sub for him.

“Didn’t you say Stephanie Myer was an ‘embarrassment in the gothic romance community?’”

“Besides the point…”

“Okay, Edward Cullen.”

John removed his shoes and socks and joined you in bed, “Shut up.”

“Make me,” You teased, eyes bearing into his. John kissed your forehead.

“I would, but you puked up breakfast not even three hours ago.”

You frowned, “Then don’t cuddle with me! You’ll get sick.”

“My body is like a furnace. Most diseases don’t last in me.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

John shrugged as he draped an arm over you, rubbing circles into your skin with his thumb.

You shifted a little, trying to get comfortable, before settling on a position.

“Hey, Sinjin…”

“Yeah?”

“What if I was pregnant?”

John’s hand stopped.

“We thought I was for a minute, and you looked excited, despite the fact I was freaking out… Do you want another kid?”

John flinched a little at your sharp question. “I mean… it’s your body. It’s up to you.”

“No, no, we’re in this together. Do you want another kid?”

“Honestly?... Yeah, I do. I know I was on the fence when Junior first asked, but that was months ago… I want to experience everything, and be there for you this time… do you want to have another kid?

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay… Wait— when can we— Jean said 48 hours without puking—“

You glanced over at the clock, “10:43 AM. This Wednesday.”

“Right. At exactly 10:43 AM, on Wednesday, we can have sex… Oh my god.” John laughed, somewhat disappointed and embarrassed by his words.

“What?”

“We’re like an old couple, scheduling when to have sex.”

You laughed, “Plenty of people schedule sex— remember when we were younger? We’d plan around when Bobby and Kitty wouldn’t be around so one of our rooms were empty—“

“Okay, okay… I’ll go to the store and get some viagra.”

You snorted, “Don’t think you’ll be needing that big guy.”

“You’re right. I’ll just get some extra large condoms.” John joked.

“First off, that defeats the whole point of baby-making, and second, you need small at best.”

“You wound me, woman!”

You smiled stuck your tongue out like a child.

When you were in better health, you and John didn’t waste any time— You went at it like rabbits.

You thought you’d get pregnant on the first try, seeing as you weren’t even trying for Junior, but that wasn’t the case. You had to try a few more times before getting there.

Test after test, until finally, one said positive.

You and John were so excited, not a dry eye between the two of you.

“We’re having a baby!” John held you close, his hands down at your stomach.

“I’m not showing yet, it’s too early…”

“I know, I know,” He sheepishly admitted. “I’m just excited.”

“We can’t tell anyone until the second trimester, or well, we’re not supposed to, because it’s such early development right now that something could go wrong, usually it doesn’t— but that’s what all the doctors and books and mommy blogs online say.”

John nodded, he’d read a few books, and some articles online, but he knew you’d already been to doctors before and just knew more.

“When do you think we should tell Junior?”

“How are we gonna tell Junior,” You corrected him.

“He wanted a sibling. This should be easy.”

You squinted your eyes at him. “If we start to struggle how to explain this to him, it’s all on you buddy.”

“Alright.”

John knew what was going to happen. He knew what a cesarean section was. He even watched videos, about it.

But boy, oh, boy, seeing it in person was so much different.

Your doctor let him cut the umbilical cord, which he was super nervous about. He was anxious about everything.

Was your daughter safe? What if you woke up before you got stitched up? What if you had a sudden health complication?

His mind raced as he watched your baby get cleaned off and checked on.

“Is she okay?”

“So far. We’re going to take her to the nursery to get her weighed and measured and move her mom out of the delivery room. Stay with her, when the anesthesia wears off she’s gonna be pretty sore.”

John didn’t want to leave your baby girl, but he wasn’t going to disobey your doctor.

You made it into your recovery room without any trouble, and after a few minutes, your nurse left you and John alone, saying he could visit your daughter in the nursery soon.

“I’ll wait until our friends and family get here.”

Your nurse nodded and reminded you to press the button on the side of your bed if you needed anything, before heading out the door.

You named your daughter after your other two best friends, Katherine Anne Allerdyce. John wanted to name her after you, but you argued what if you had another girl?

He got all flustered and nervous at the idea, which you found cute.

“Do you wanna hold her?” He asked Junior.

He nodded and was told to sit down in one of the chairs.

“She’s so… tiny…” He emphasized.

Everyone laughed or chuckled at Junior’s demeanor.

“She was born a few hours ago,” You reminded him.

“Oh… Yeah.”

Everyone else took turns holding her and cooing and doting over Kat.

“Aww, hello… Hello Kat… Aww, you’re so cute.”

“Bobby she’s asleep.”

“Hush let me hold my niece.”

John frowned. “She’s my child and I’ve held her less than you have.”

You rolled your eyes, “Babe, let Bobby dote.”

“Fine…”

Kitty pulled out her phone, “Let me get a picture of you guys! Bobby, John, and Katherine. I think it’ll be cute!”

“Fine, fine.” John rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

He scooted closer to Bobby and grinned up at Kitty’s phone as the flash went off.

“Ow!” Bobby winced. “Did you have to use flash?”

“Aww… you blinked.” She pouted.

“I was blinded!”

“Hush it, you big baby. Let me take another one.” Kitty positioned her phone to take another picture again.

“No flash this time!”

“It’s not on!”

John smiled again and so did Bobby. Kitty took her photo and then admired her work.

“Aww, you guys look so cute together!”

She handed her phone to John so he and Bobby could look at the picture.

John smiled.

He looked tired, normal with age, raising a kid, and being up for hours while his wife gave birth.

But he was happy.

His life wasn’t how he thought it would be, but unplanned plans are usually the best ones.

He had a family— not just you, Junior, and Kat— but Bobby, Kitty, Alex, Rogue, and everyone else at the mansion. He had people to fall back on and that supported and loved him.

He looked over at you, talking to Alex while sipping from the straw of your hospital cup/water bottle they gave you. His heart yearned. Despite how tired you were, and how you couldn’t even walk at the moment due to giving birth not even 24 hours ago, John still thought you were the most beautiful and brave person he knew. His writing could never compare or encapture your character, no matter how hard he tried.

But it didn’t matter.

You both had what you never knew you wanted.

And you were happy.

#john allerdyce #john allerdyce x reader #pyro x reader #x-men x reader #x-men oneshot #john allerdyce x you #pyro x you #john allerdyce oneshot #pyro oneshot #x-men x you #early 2000s #original x-men movies #modified timeline #oneshot #x reader

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strayen-fx · 4 years

Text

My Roommate is a Demon | Part II

Genre: Fluff, angst

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: trauma, road accident, mention of death, panic attack

A/N: I've finally finished it! Hope you guys like it 🥺

"That's your delaying tactic, huh?"

Minho paused from petting Doongie and looked up at me, confusion written on his face. "What?"

I stood beside the TV, my arms across my chest, eyeing the demon who was sitting on my apartment floor. There was a reason why I never looked for a roommate -- I'd rather choose to pay an expensive rent than live with a total stranger that may/may not be a psycho, or worse, a jerk who doesn't know how to segregate biodegradable waste from non-biodegradable.

And yet, here I am: stuck with someone who was literally spawned by hell.

"How long do you intend to stay in my house?"

"Until you've told me your wish," Minho answered with a wide grin. He brought his attention back to Doongie and resumed attacking a bag of chips. "Until then, I'll be leeching off of you like the handsome demon that I am."

That's his third bag of chips for the day. "I already told you my wish," I pointed out. "Wishes, actually. But you never did any of them. So tell me -- are you toying with me? Just so you could stay here and play with my cats all day?" I eyed him suspiciously. "Are you running away from your tasks down in your place or something?"

Minho glared at me. "Your previous wishes wouldn't even count as wishes. You called for a demon, not a genie in a bottle," he scoffed. "You were supposed to ask for evil, injurious, hostile, insidious, destructive stuffs. And you asked me to give you an unlimited supply of pizza?"

"That's not the only wish I've told you," I argued.

Minho rolled his eyes. At this point in time, I am already used to seeing that affectionate gesture. "Right. You asked me to duct-tape Chan's laptop. You also asked me to trip Jisung. And you asked me to steal Changbin's plushie. Right. You have an absolutely terrifying and lethal mind, Y/N."

"Playing with Chan's equipment is evil," I reasoned out. I have actually witnessed Chan going nuts when he thought he lost his hard drive, and I swore to myself I would never want to see him furious again. It was the epitome of danger.

"...Are you for real?" Minho asked flatly. "That's, like, one of the top 100 lamest pranks I have ever heard. We're supposed to do crimes, not petty pranks on your kid neighbor."

"Can I just wish for you to leave?"

"Nope. Next question?"

"What am I supposed to do, then?" I whined. "I can't exactly wish for a random explosion in the streets, can I?"

Minho contemplated the idea for a few seconds. "That's not evil enough. We need something impactful -- I need something gold on my resume."

"...Resume?"

"Relevant experience, duh. I'm a hardworking employee. I need promotions."

I groaned, totally done and pissed and just generally going crazy about my whole predicament. How am I going to shake off my cat-loving demon roommate?

Minho grinned once more, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Guess that means you'll be spending an eternity with me."

°°°°°°°°°

"Can you burn my uni down?"

"That's not even an evil request. That's called service to the student body."

"Can you kill all the bugs in my city?"

"I may be a demon, but I do not intervene with the ecosystem. I'm done with you mortals ruining the planet. It's getting bad for my skin."

I frowned at Minho, who insisted on walking me to campus. He said he wanted to see my uni, but I'm pretty sure he's got some underlying intention he's not telling me. I felt wary for a sudden ambush.

"Can you give my professor the flu?"

"If we're talking about the flu that escalates into world destruction, then I guess we can get down to business--"

Minho suddenly stopped walking. He remained rooted on the road, staring at a middle distance. There was a look of worry in his eyes.

"H-hey, is something wrong?" I asked.

"I-I gotta go," Minho said hurriedly. He then sped off, almost tripping on his own feet. "I'LL SEE YOU AT HOME!" he shouted over his shoulders.

I don't know why, but the way he worded it made me feel a major blush creeping on my cheek. "YOU DON'T NEED TO GO BACK!"

°°°°°°°°°

"Where on earth did that demon go?"

My classes have already ended. Chan, Jisung and Changbin were all busy creating new tracks for the upcoming music fest, so I was forced to walk home alone. They were too busy these past few days, I hadn't gotten the chance to update them on the crazy scenarios unfolding in my life. They didn't even know I had a demon for a roommate. They didn't even know I've gotten a roommate, in the first place -- I bet they'd go crazy on their next visit.

That is, if I'd still have a roommate by that time.

"He said he'll see me at home," I mumbled. "Or did he just say that? Did he go back to wherever he came from? Without even informing me?"

As if on cue, I heard rustling of bushes from somewhere in front of me. I initially thought it was a thief. I was prepared to sprint off, but just then, Minho slowly walked into view, holding his hands against his stomach.

"You're here," I said quietly. Was that relief I just felt? Well, I guess I did feel relief knowing there wasn't a thief in front of me (but a demon instead. The irony.)

"Yeah," Minho smiled sheepishly. "I'm, uhh, just about to go home."

I gave him a weird look. "It has been hours since you walked me to school, and you're still here outside? You're just going home?" I noticed a few leaves that got stuck on his hair plus a few scratches along his forearm. My brow shot up. "By any chance... did you... get lost?"

A faint blush formed on the demon's cheeks. "I'm not used to human civilization, okay? I don't know your freak symbols. All the roads look the same -- how am I supposed to know where I am supposed to go?"

I tried to swallow the laughter bubbling in my stomach. "So you did get lost. I thought you're a demon? Can't you track me home with your demon powers or something?"

"I can only track your presence; ever wonder why I'm here in front of you? Your house is another thing. My powers aren't that strong yet." He began striding off to the direction opposite my house. I jogged after him, trying to match his long strides.

"Ya Minho. Are you sure of where you're-- Hey, what's that... thing on your belly?" I pointed at the weird spherical bulge on his stomach. He was wearing a baggy shirt, but the shape was still pretty much evident. It looked like a soft round pillow underneath his clothes. "Are you pregnant?"

"What are y-- I'M NOT PREGNANT, OKAY?" Minho's ears burned red, and he looked absolutely flustered.

"Would you care to explain, then, what--"

"Meow~"

"Did you just meow at me, Lee Minho?"

"MEOW~"

The thing under Minho's shirt suddenly moved, protesting against the hands holding him. Minho was taken by surprise -- he wasn't able to stop the little cat from breaking free from his hiding spot.

"You brought a--"

"Meow~" The cat landed on my feet. He is so small, probably just a month old. He had grey and white fur, and his meow sounded soft and sweet. He looked up at me expectantly, as if assessing the possible danger I held against him. It then brushed its body against my legs, marking me as his human.

"You brought a cat?"

"What do you expect me to do?" Minho whined. "I heared him meowing and crying desperately for help. I can't just leave him alone in the street, he's too young!"

"That's why you scampered off earlier?" I stiffled a laugh. "Are you sure you're a demon? Didn't you send your application to the wrong agency?"

"Shut up. Let's bring Dori home, alright? He's hungry."

"You even named him already."

"I said shut up."

We began walking to my apartment -- the correct direction this time -- while Minho carried Dori in his arms. I had to admit: they looked adorable. Minho looked so soft while cradling the baby cat, and Dori looked comfortable in the hands of his new owner.

And then I thought: Once Minho leaves, who's going to take care of Dori?

Nah, I could definitely take care of another cat at home.

But Minho is the one who found Dori. He is the parent, not you.

Minho has to leave soon -- I can handle Dori on my own.

Okay.

...

You're not gonna miss him?

...Of course not.

...

But Minho--

Shut up.

We were only a couple blocks away from my apartment. We were approaching a pastry shop which sells delicious cheesecake when suddenly, Dori jumped down from Minho's hold. The cat quickly ran off to the shop, carelessly crossing the street with her tiny paws.

"Dori!" Minho immediately ran after him, not even bothering to check the road for approaching vehicles.

A huge van was approaching fast. The driver probably didn't notice that someone was crossing the road -- he wasn't slowing down even one bit. His headlights blared, bright and harsh and ominous.

My brother. His bicycle. Blood. Van. Shattered glass. Smoke. Blood, everywhere. My brother, limp, unmoving. Blood. He was coughing blood. And his eyes... his eyes were blank. He wasn't blinking. He was staring at me with vacant eyes. He was bleeding. He--

"MINHO!"

The vehicle barely missed Minho by an inch. He successfully retrieved Dori. He looked back at me and smiled reassuringly, his hand held up in a thumbs-up.

My knees felt weak. I fell on the sidewalk, my heart thumping at a hundred beats per second. I couldn't feel my fingers. It felt as if I was dunked head-first into a pool of ice. Tears began welling in my eyes, making my surroundings blurry.

The next thing I knew, Minho was kneeling on my side. He was asking me a lot of questions, but I couldn't understand any of it. My heart was beating crazily in my chest. It was beating in my throat. It was beating in my ears. Dori was standing at my feet, carefully licking at my exposed skin.

"Minho..."

"I'm here," he answered.

"Don't leave me. Never leave me."

He fell quiet for a few moments. And then: "You know that wish is against the rules of hell, right?"

I looked at him, trying to read the emotion in his caramel eyes. There was a look of genuine concern in them.

"We are not allowed to stay with humans for a period longer than our mission. Your wish breaks the most important rule for demon interns like me, which means that it's an evil wish." Minho smiled softly. "Is that the wish you are going to ask from your demon?"

I nodded. I pulled him into a tight hug, not even caring about my unflattering appearance on the side of the road. "Stay with me."

"I've heard your wish loud and clear," he declared. Minho carefully patted my head as he tightened his hold on me, lending me warmth from his embrace. I can actually feel him smiling. "We have a 'no return, no exchange' policy. Whether you like it or you like it, you're now stuck with your demon roommate forever."

°°° °°° °°°

°°°

A/N: Please stop me from giving this a steamy part three

266 notes · View notes

perfeggso · 4 years

Text

till the sun’s seeing through my eyes (yumark)

hitting for six

Yuta and Mark are next-door neighbors who grew up together, joined at the hip until Yuta went off to college. Due to their four-year age gap, Mark’s freshman year at the same school marks the halfway point of an unprecedented amount of time apart. Yuta is sure he can handle it, until Mark’s arrival home for spring break makes him wonder if the fondness he has for his friend might be blooming quite literally into something stronger. It’s up to him to handle the consequences.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Masterlist

Characters: Yuta x Mark + NCT ensemble, other SM (and non-SM (?)) idols tbd, character families

Genres: heavy angst, fluff, Hanahaki!AU, small town!AU, slight Witchcraft/Magic!AU, College!AU

Warnings: blood and gore, mentions of death, disease, vomiting, college-typical alcohol use, swearing

Rating: T

Length: 8.3k

Yuta twirled the stick of rock candy he’d picked up at the market around between his lips, enjoying how it felt rough on his tongue and filled his mouth with the flavor of unadulterated sugar. He checked his phone – no new messages.

He tapped the toe of his sneakers against the linoleum floor of Kun’s coffeeshop and drummed his hands against the seafoam counter before pulling the candy from his lips with a pop and dunking it in his glass of mint tea. All around him, the clinking, hissing, and chatter of a well-liked café filled his ears, and the arousing scent of coffee steam kept him a fidgety kind of alert. On second thought, replace “alert” with “distracted.”

“Did you hear me, Yuta?” Sicheng was saying, sitting at the table nearest the espresso machine and picking at a mini egg custard tart. Yuta had not heard him, that much was evident.

Yuta sighed with some effort, then made a fake sorry face. “No – no, I apologize, babe, I didn’t.”

Sicheng rolled his eyes. “Whatever, it wasn’t important.” He took a large bite of his tart, pale, buttery crumbs affixing to his lips.

“Neko latte!” Kun interrupted, setting a white coffee cup in front of Yuta, the frothed milk on top of it shaped like a stubby-tailed cat that wiggled as the cup moved. Yuta had to restrain himself from jiggling its foam butt into oblivion. Kun returned a moment later with a plate. “Aaaand, let’s see, one slice of orange poppy seed bread.” He dropped his smiling customer service face momentarily as he leaned in towards Yuta. “I thought you said you could handle calling out the orders. That was my condition for letting you behind the counter, wasn’t it?”

Yuta shrugged, repeating the order at double Kun’s original volume and smirking when a customer instantly shot out of her seat to come collect it. Yuta downed his tea, burning his throat, and stuck the melting candy back into his mouth as she made her way over, pushing the now-empty cup forward as an encouragement to leave a tip in it, which the poor girl did. Kun snatched the sticky bill from the cup and shook it out, disapproval contorting his face as he voiced his disappointment with a simple “nope.”

“But Kun, I watched her earlier and she didn’t leave a tip when she ordered,” Yuta protested, making himself laugh until it was threatening to become a cough. Dammit. He pulled in a shaky breath. “I’m only trying to help.”

Kun pointed to the seating area. “Out.”

Yuta sulked his way to the chair opposite Sicheng, noting on his way that it was still pouring not insignificantly outside. Yuta had gotten off work early because of the rain; the indoor soccer field had been reserved weeks earlier for the high school team. Instead, he’d taken his kids to Yukhei’s gym for a short workout and then sent them home, choosing to wile away the rest of his time waiting for Mark with his buddies over a warm beverage.

“Has he responded yet?” Sicheng asked.

“No,” Yuta pouted. He’d sent Mark a text nearly twenty-five minutes ago saying he was ahead of schedule and to come meet him at Kun’s shop. “Ugh, wait, I’m sorry. What were you saying earlier? Nothing you say is unimportant, friend.”

Sicheng looked like he wanted to smack Yuta and hug him at the same time. Yuta was used to this.

“I was only teasing you for missing my speech last night because no one cut you off,” Sicheng clarified, wiping his hands against each other once he’d finished eating.

The memory of heaving in his bathroom in an attempt to extract whatever was obstructing his airways hit Yuta like an unforeseen ocean wave. He nodded slowly, schooling his face to pretend to be irritated rather than scared. He didn’t want to lie to his friend, but not even he knew what the real issue was, and it would undoubtedly get sorted, so why worry people?

Yuta made his face into the disappointment emoji. “Mm-hm,” he said. “Well since you can only process my suffering as it pertains to you, maybe you’ll cut me off next time you have something important to say.”

Sicheng raised his eyebrows. “Someone’s feeling bitchy today,” he observed. “This is because your boyfriend’s not texting back, isn’t it?”

Yuta scoffed. “Boyfriend,” he huffed in disbelief, but the word stirred a sickened feeling inside him. He chose to ignore that. “Yeah, it is,” he teased, “you jealous?”

Sicheng shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “It means you’ll let me be for a couple weeks.”

Yuta laughed, his body once again nearly giving into coughing. Like, choking on one’s dinner and needing the Heimlich kind of coughing. Instead of letting that happen and calling attention to himself, he doused his throat in the contents of a glass of water.

His breathing had been a bit better since he’d spoken with his mother that morning, but the problem wasn’t gone, and the raw coughing fits that started the day before were only growing more frequent. A particularly violent one had gripped him during practice, scaring some of his kids enough that he’d run away to the bathroom to get it under control. Thankfully, Yukhei had been in another room.

Yuta came from a tradition of hedge witches, of which his mother was a shining example. She ran an apothecary in town with his father; handling the medicine and potions side of it while he handled the business angle. She was a skilled potion-maker and healer, and she had a keen sense of spiritual effects on the physical. She was often able to gain insights that seemed so spot-on that Yuta had no choice but to believe whatever she told him to do.

She’d encouraged her children to utilize tarot cards from an early age and endeavored ever since to teach them everything she knew. Now and then, having someone so spiritually inclined as a parent could be burdensome, but it was times like these – when Yuta felt something strange and unwelcome stirring in him – that he felt he was lucky.

When Yuta had gone to the main house that morning, he found his mother in the kitchen, making banana pancakes as his little sister looked over her advanced biology homework. The high school still had a week left before spring break.

“Hi Haruna,” Yuta greeted, shoving her face softly into her papers and receiving a well-earned glare.

“Good morning, dingus. You really shouldn’t be partying when you have work in the morning.”

Haruna was a senior, less than a year younger than Mark (a fact which regularly escaped Yuta’s mind) and possessed an attitude problem – though one quite different from Yuta’s. That morning, she wore a long, eggplant-purple frock dress with lots of heavy eyeliner and her hair in a helmet-like bob. She might have been sartorially challenged and a bit of a bitch in Yuta’s view, but she was also his adorable little sister, and a veritable genius, he had to admit.

Yuta went to the fridge and pulled out an apricot yogurt. “I assure you I can handle myself,” he said, grabbing one of a collection of mismatched spoons and plopping it into his breakfast. “The last thing I need is a seventeen-year-old lecturing me on alcohol.”

Haruna tried to flick some of the syrup on her fork into her brother’s hair but missed. “I can’t wait until Momoka comes home to visit,” she grumbled. “Maybe you’ll listen to her.”

Yuta’s mother gave her youngest and middle child a heavy look of disapproval as she flipped a pancake with a wet, resounding plop. The action itself communicated as much authority as any scolding words could have. Yuta just smiled sweetly, digging into his yogurt.

“Yuta, dear,” she began, “can I interest you in some pancakes?”

Yuta shook his head, feeling a little guilty, but he was rarely very hungry in the mornings. “No, this is enough for me,” he said. His mother smiled. It was the same smile Haruna would flash when she was about to tease him.

“Well, I’m sure you didn’t come all the way over here just to bother your studious sister and refuse my cooking, so there has to be something else, hm? I’m right, aren’t I?”

Yuta sighed. As usual, she was indeed correct. “As a matter of fact, there is something bothering me.”

His mother listened attentively as he recounted the last day’s events: the asthma scare, trying to use the potion she’d taught him with a prayer, his concern over the reading he’d had that morning. All the while, she finished shaping her stack of pancakes and leaned on her elbows, steam rising from the food and swirling in front of her paisley house dress, fluffy hair, purple kerchief, and concerned face.

“It sounds to me like you’re having anxiety about change,” she offered once he’d finished. “You always tend to have flare-ups during transition periods.”

“Yeah,” Haruna cut in, spearing a chunk of pancake and narrowly escaping dropping it on her school papers, “remember when you were a freshman and you had a panic attack before coming home for winter break? You said you could hardly breathe all night and that you didn’t think you wanted to come back.”

Haruna seemed a little too casual with that difficult memory for Yuta’s liking, although she was right that he hadn’t forgotten. He pinched his eyebrows together.

“Is this a transition period though?” he asked. Everything for him was more or less the same as it had been all year.

His mother nodded. “I’d say so. Some of your younger friends are coming home, and Taeil will be going back to the city soon. There are a lot of moving pieces in your life at the moment, dear. I don’t think it's at all strange that you’re feeling off and maybe hiding some things from yourself.”

“Alternately,” quipped Haruna as their mother went to fetch a cloudy, pastel purple concoction she had sitting in a beaker by the window, “you’re just a drama queen.”

Yuta started. “Wanna get your butt kicked by a college athlete?” he threatened. Haruna stuck her tongue out at him.

“You mean former intramural college athlete?”

“That’s enough!”

Yuta and Haruna both turned to face their mother. She looked like her hair would be suspended in exasperation if she were in a Ghibli Movie. Yuta knew that meant it was time to Shut Up. Oops.

She sighed, running her hands over the lip of the beaker in her hand and muttering to herself to calm down. Then, she slid it forward to her son.

“Bring this to work with you, Yuta,” she advised, voice still stern. “I made it fresh this morning for the shop, but I think you could use it. It has lavender, mint, chamomile, soy oil, salts, and I’ve charged it with moon water. It’s something I’ve been messing around with for dealing with anxiety and stress during liminal periods in life.” Yuta nodded, listening attentively and twirling the little vial in between his fingers. She went on. “Then later whenever you have time, I want you to sit alone with your confusion for a little while. I think that might give you more insight into what is driving this spiritually and subconsciously. Try not to smother it, whatever it is.”

Of course his mom’s advice was essentially “meditate.” Why had he even bothered to ask? He nodded one more time, subdued, and dropped the vial of pale liquid into his pocket. He would put it into a water bottle and bring it along.

Yuta finished his yogurt and chucked the container into the recycling. “Thank you, Mom,” he said, snagging a pancake on his way out of the kitchen just to win a little more of her favor. “And have a good day, Haruna.”

“You too, dingus.”

“Tell me if you’re feeling better tonight!” his mother called after him, finishing off with a mild threat: “And I’ll be able to tell if you didn’t follow my directions!”

Yuta sighed for what felt like the eightieth time all day, watching the café’s glass door from over Sicheng’s shoulder for any signs of Mark. He didn’t know how to summon people or things, but he half-imagined that he did, concentrating so hard on the door that it was making his eyes cross. And in a matter of seconds, it worked (or, at least, the universe gave the illusion of it working).

Mark rushed into the coffeeshop, looking harried and tugging a cumbersome guitar case along with him which he tried desperately to protect with a too-small umbrella. The image put Yuta at attention, smiling.

“I’m so sorry!” Mark spluttered as he rushed through the door. “I was practicing, and I didn’t check my phone!”

“Whoa there,” Kun warned from behind the counter. “This does not need to be advertised to my entire clientele.”

Mark shook out his umbrella and shoved it into the holder in the entryway, checking with Yuta that they planned on staying for at least a little while and apologizing sheepishly to Kun.

He sat down at the table with Yuta and Sicheng as Yuta grinned at him.

“Don’t be sorry, Markie-boy,” Yuta said, poking Mark in the side and making him almost giggle his way out of his chair. As the chair tipped and then slingshotted violently back to its starting position from Mark regaining his balance, it clattered so loudly that it attracted more concerned looks than Mark had when he’d busted through the door. Yuta hardly seemed to register this as he gushed about how devoted his friend was to his craft that he would haul his equipment through a rainstorm. Kun rolled his eyes and huffed in defeat at yet another disruption.

“Mark, the usual?” he asked, and Mark nodded after nervously confirming Yuta didn’t have other plans for them to go eat somewhere.

Only then did he allow himself to settle in, peeling off his damp jacket and balancing his guitar case against the side of his chair.

“Did you carry that all the way here?” Sicheng asked, and Yuta shot him an obvious look.

“Of course he did,” he replied for his friend, and Sicheng glared at him. “The kid can’t drive, after all. Just like you.”

Mark nodded in confirmation as Kun set a mug of hot chocolate and a cream cheese bagel in front of him. “I love being referred to as ‘the kid’ as if I’m not present,” he snarked. “Also, thanks, Kun.”

“Sure thing.”

Yuta crunched absently at the end of his rock candy. “Aw, don’t go trying to make me feel bad when you forced me to wait for thirty-five minutes and didn’t even tell me you were on your way. It’s like you want to keep me in constant suspense with your little surprises.” Mark scowled, but his mouth was too stuffed with bagel to form a retort, so Yuta went on. “Anyway, you got a guitar in there?”

Mark swallowed. “What do you think?”

“I think we’re just impressed you lugged it all the way here,” Sicheng clarified, trying to clear the air of Yuta’s usual bitchiness. “Surely, you brought it for a reason.”

Mark clapped his hands against each other to rid them of crumbs, body going taut with excitement.

“Actually yes!” he mouthed around his food. “I did have a reason. I wanted to show off what I’ve been practicing!”

“Oooooh!” Yuta buzzed, applauding preemptively at hyper-speed. “You might want to check with the stickler in charge though,” he warned, stage whispering and indicating towards Kun. The subject of the jest frowned at his table of friends.

“I can hear you, Yuta,” he said, “and it’s fine. Just give me a minute to turn the speakers off.”

Soon enough, Mark had extracted his guitar from its case and had it over his knee, strumming experimentally to warm up and drawing the attention of most of the customers behind him.

“Don’t look now, Mark,” Sicheng began. “But it looks like you’ve roped yourself into a little concert.”

“A little what now?” he asked, immediately going against the advice he’d just received and turning around to meet the gazes of at least fifteen people he only marginally knew. “Oh, uh, okay. This is fine.”

Yuta smiled to himself as he watched his friend adjust his fingers over the metal strings and clear his throat, red face betraying that he might not, in fact, be fine.

Pretty soon though, he was finger-picking his way through the intro to Frank Ocean’s “Cayendo.” Once Mark started singing, Yuta found himself lulled into an admiring trance at the smooth sweetness of Mark’s voice. Mark was usually shy about singing solo, but he’d been working on it and Yuta loved that he had gained some confidence. The fact that the song was in a language Yuta couldn’t understand served even further to pull him under its calm spell.

He pretended to swoon at the little performance, rolling his eyes around and fanning himself theatrically. “Ooh, Markie, take me now,” he joked, just loud enough for his table to hear and no one else. Mark’s ears went red and he struggled to sing through a giggle.

Right in the middle of the song though, Mark sang a stanza that Yuta did understand. It ended with a melancholy plea of love:

When I still really, really love you, like I do

If you won't, then I will

If you can't, then I will

Is it love to keep it from you?

It was such a sad sentiment. Yuta thought that if he were a more sentimental person, and under different circumstances, he would have started to cry. Though, maybe he wasn’t as unsentimental as he thought he was…

Mark transitioned back to singing in Spanish and Yuta took the moment to lose himself less in his friend’s voice and more in the space around them: the chatter of impressed coffee-sippers, the whirring of the espresso machine, the soft and appreciative expressions on his friends’ faces. It was almost as sweet as the leftover sugar which coated the inside of his mouth – almost sweet enough for him to forget that some kind of repression within him was causing him vascular stress. Almost; almost.

Mark plucked the last note of the song and the café broke into a pitter-patter of applause which echoed the pounding of rain outside, and in that moment, as if to remind him of the tenuousness of his almosts, Yuta found himself hurled into the most intense pain he’d felt in the last twenty-four hours.

He bent himself over and started retching into a napkin. It was the same sensation he’d gotten the night before at the party, when he’d locked himself in the bathroom and coughed himself raw into the white sink, trying to force something out that just wouldn’t budge. He felt like he had a copper wire weaving through his muscles, and someone was sending shocks of electricity through it.

Sicheng and Mark stared at him in concern and Sicheng pushed a glass of water his way. He choked out his thanks before downing it in one go, once again taking note of the clump of – something – which drifted back down along with the liquid. By the time he had himself back under control, both his friends were posing some variation on the same ‘you okay?’ question.

“Yeah, yeah,” he lied. “Just aspirated some very sharp candy.”

Sicheng winced. “Ouch,” he said. “At least you had the courtesy to wait until Mark was finished.”

Yuta stuck his tongue out, but the way his friend went so casually back to teasing him actually made him feel a little better.

“I know the Heimlich maneuver!” Mark said, a stupidly proud grin crossing his face as he set his guitar back into its case and puffed his chest out involuntarily. “So I could have saved you if it came to that.”

Yuta smiled weakly. “That’s very reassuring, Mark.”

“NBD.” Yuta groaned, the sharp pain from only moments ago leaving him just as quickly as it had come. He cringed. Had Mark really just said “NBD?” Whatever. Mark continued.

“Seriously though, what did you guys think?”

“It was really good,” Sicheng said, “and I would say, a glowing testament to your four years of high school Spanish.”

Mark snickered. “What about you, Yutaaa?”

“Well if you couldn’t tell by the way I reacted at the beginning, I loved it! Really, like your voice just keeps getting better and better.”

Mark placed a hand over his heart, meaning to indicate that Yuta’s compliment had touched him.

“Aren’t you not supposed to be using instruments though?” Sicheng chimed. “I mean, considering you’re an a cappella person?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Very funny,” he said. “But thanks, guys. I think I might play it live sometime on the Serotonin Hour.” That was the name of the radio show Johnny had left to him upon graduation.

“You know,” Yuta began, rapping his fingers against the table, “when Johnny willed his time slot to you, I don’t think he expected you’d use it for such self-serving purposes.”

Mark rolled his eyes even farther into his head this time. “It’s an hour where I impose my music taste on the small group of people who actually bother to tune in. What could be more self-serving?”

Yuta clicked his tongue. Mark had a point.

“Anyway,” said Mark, hopping to his feet, “what do you want to do, Yuta?”

***

Since it was raining out, they decided they would have to stay mostly indoors, so they resolved to wander around the market hall until they came up with a more exciting activity, Yuta letting Mark store his guitar in the trunk of his car while they perused. Sicheng was invited along too, but he had a dance class to run in half an hour and needed to review his lesson plan ahead of time, so it was just the two of them.

Well, it was just the two of them until they got to the Jung family farmstand at the end of the long, warehouse-like building. Jaehyun sat behind it, writing something into a notebook and looking so bored that his face was practically melting into the hand supporting it.

“Oh, thank god,” he said when he saw his friends approaching. “It’s been such a slow day I was ready to choke myself out just to have something to do.”

“Ooh, kinky,” Yuta guffawed at his friend as Mark nodded slowly.

“Nice to see you too, man,” Mark said.

“Want anything?”

Yuta and Mark surveyed their options: a selection of dairy products, meat, and eggs in a set of coolers, and a table covered in artichokes, celery, pears, asparagus, broccoli, brussels sprouts, cabbages, and a veritable rainbow of root vegetables. As usual, the Jung family farm’s output looked delicious. Maybe Yuta would get something for his parents to put in tonight’s dinner. He grabbed a bundle of radishes by the leaves and shoved them at his friend with a grin.

Mark, on the other hand, knew immediately what he would go for.

“And, uh, can I get a banana milk?”

Jaehyun nodded as Yuta gave his younger friend his best side-eye.

“You just drank a giant hot chocolate. Haven’t you had enough dairy for one day?”

Mark pouted, fishing for his wallet, and Yuta couldn’t help but smile at the way Mark’s eyes looked like shiny tea saucers. He could be devilishly cute sometimes. Cute enough to make Yuta want to buy shit for him, which he did, paying for the radishes and the milk before Mark even had the opportunity to complain.

“Drink up!”

Mark glared. “Fine. I’ll just sneak-buy you something next time.”

Yuta wobbled his head like an anime heroine as he spoke. “Oh, so I’ll get a next time? Man, this date is going so well!” he said, and Mark’s ears flushed for the second time in thirty minutes. A niggling voice in the back of Yuta’s head told him he wanted to see Mark like that more often. He brushed that idea away, not quite knowing how to process it.

“Whatever,” Mark mumbled as Jaehyun looked on in his usual casual detachment. Yuta turned his attention back to him.

“By the way, Jae, where are your parents? Can’t they come relieve you of your existential dread?”

Jaehyun blew a puff of air at his bangs. “I wish,” he responded. “They’re out of town for the weekend though, so I’m left to suffer alone. Oh – which reminds me! Can you go check on Sugarfoot and Lacey for me? They probably need their water troughs refilled right about now. And besides, I’m sure they miss Mark.”

Yuta and Mark agreed easily. Everyone loved those horses, even if Sugarfoot could be a pain in the ass. When Yuta was a teenager, she had apparently decided he’d lived long enough, because she tried to buck him off until Yuta was pretty sure he’d suffered acute whiplash. Besides Jaehyun, Johnny was the only person she seemed to tolerate (and tolerate simply meant she was a bitch to him rather than straight-up murderous), but alas, Johnny wasn’t around.

“Perfect,” Jaehyun said. “I’d do it myself, but everyone here knows my parents and they’d definitely somehow manage to tell them I’d abandoned my post. You know where the keys to the stable are and everything, right?”

“Yup!”

And with that, Yuta and Mark left Jaehyun to return to pondering auto-asphyxiation.

It had stopped raining outside, and the sky was in the process of clearing from a mournful grey to a clear periwinkle, like a windshield-wiper was slowly swiping across it to rid it of clouds. They ran into Taeil on the way to Yuta’s car, in the middle of walking five dogs of varying sizes and breeds.

Naturally, Mark became immediately preoccupied by the tangle of fur attached tenuously to Taeil’s wrist by a set of leashes. The cute scene made Yuta’s chest go tight with fondness.

Yuta told Taeil they’d missed him at the party the night before as Mark rolled around on the wet ground, getting his face smothered by a particularly friendly Chow Chow and laughing like his lungs were about to burst out of his chest.

“I know, I’m sorry!” Taeil said, trying not to let himself get tugged around. “It was just last minute and I’d already been roped into cooking for my family, and we had friends over – bad timing.”

Yuta waved him off. “Don’t worry, I’ll only hold it against you forever. But when do you go back to the city?”

“Next week,” Taeil replied, leaning down awkwardly to save Mark from five rough tongues. Taeil didn’t have a dog himself (although he did have a goose in his backyard, a fact which Yuta was never not perplexed by) but his family owned the local pet shop and he always had dog-walker duty when he was home. It was also how he made money when he was in high school. “We should definitely get together before I go back though!” Taeil continued. “You guys can help me make this pasta dish I’ve been wanting to try. Sound good Mark?”

Mark got up, brushing the wet dirt off his backside. “What? Oh yeah, for sure! I’m always down to eat – and to see you, Taeil. I didn’t forget about you.”

Taeil looked dryly at his younger friend. “Yeah, of course. But listen, Mark, it’s really good luck we’re home at the same time. I need you to tell me all about how the Aca-Fellas are doing.” Mark nodded shyly. Taeil had been the star of the a cappella group at his college, so he’d had plenty of run-ins with the Fellas at competitions. His own superiority at singing was something it was at times difficult to get him to shut up about. Taeil continued:

“Anyway, I should be going. These guys are getting squirrely, and I don’t want them to do their business right here. I’ll see you two around, I guess. Enjoy the rest of your date!”

Hey, Yuta thought, that’s my joke. Somehow it made him feel weird to hear someone else use it.

***

They were at Jaehyun’s stables after a short drive, and they found the keys easily. Mark scratched lovingly at Lacey’s chin as Yuta filled the troughs with water. Then, they decided it was as good a time as any to see if Johnny was free to FaceTime. He was.

“Heyoooo,” Johnny greeted once his pixelated face flashed onto Yuta’s phone. Yuta laughed. His friend looked happy and healthy. “Oh what? You have Mark with you? Sweet!”

They caught up on Johnny’s life for a few minutes; he was having a great time on his own, but he missed everyone and couldn’t wait to come home in the summer.

“Hurry home,” Yuta joked, getting up from the bail of hay he’d been sitting on because Sugarfoot was cribbing on the door to her stable. “I think Taeyong is wilting without you here.”

Johnny chuckled indulgently. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.” He gasped and his image froze in the exaggerated reaction face he’d pulled, making Mark squeak with laughter. “Is that my favorite girlie?” came his crackling voice. ��

Yuta held the phone up to Sugarfoot, nudging her head a bit to get her to detach her teeth from the wood. “Sure is.”

Johnny asked if Jaehyun was there, so Yuta informed him on their friend’s predicament. Then Johnny addressed Mark, telling him he should try braiding Sugarfoot’s dark mane – he’d found she had come to enjoy it. Mark, being the least experienced with Jaehyun’s bitch of a mare, immediately fell for it and tried, causing Sugarfoot to squeal and jerk her neck away from his touch. He fell back on his butt in surprise and Johnny cackled through Yuta’s phone speaker.

“Aw, I see college hasn’t made you less gullible, Markie-boy.”

“It most certainly has not,” Yuta confirmed, and Mark attempted a glare, but it only ended up looking like what he’d done when Johnny tried to teach him how to flirt that one time.

Johnny continued. “Anyway, Mark how are you really? I don’t care about this old hag; Yuta, give the phone to Mark.”

Yuta handed over the phone with a casual threat of murder.

Mark was doing well. Johnny asked if his a cappella group had let him rap yet. Mark rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, leaning against the stable door right next to Lacey.

“Naw, not yet,” he said. “Just beatboxing for now. Eventually...”

Johnny shrugged. “It’s okay. When you’re a senior you can run the group and do whatever the hell you want. And, when they see how good you are, that’ll really show ’em.”

Yuta watched the conversation unfold, reveling in the warm feeling he got from watching some of his favorite people interact.

“Are you doing the Serotonin Hour justice, by the way?” Johnny asked. “Playing that good shit?”

Mark fumbled around a response so Yuta cut in, yelling from off-screen. “He’s great, Johnny! Wish you were here to tune in because I think he might be surpassing you in quality already.”

Yuta heard Johnny scoff as Mark looked embarrassed. “Impossible!” Yuta leaned in next to Mark and Johnny asked about his own parents.

Yuta frowned. “Can’t you just call them and ask how they’re doing?”

“I did! I do!” Johnny said, exasperated. “I wanted to hear it from a third party though, otherwise all they tell me is ‘we’re good, John, we’re good. Everything’s just fine.’ Know what I mean?”

Mark answered. Mr. and Mrs. Seo were doing just as well as they let on to their son, as far as he could tell. This seemed to satisfy him.

Johnny had to go soon after this, so Yuta and Mark took the opportunity to get back in Yuta’s car and drive to his house, where brand new purple crocuses had pushed through the dirt in the front yard.

Yuta led Mark straight to his loft when they arrived, happy to finally have some actual alone time with his friend. He didn’t know where this territorial streak was coming from. He usually did it as a joke – especially with Mark and Sicheng – but all of a sudden, he didn’t feel like he was joking anymore. He shrugged it off mentally. It probably had something to do with his repression, he figured, realizing he hadn’t followed all his mother’s instructions yet. Oh well, the meditation could wait.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” he offered. “We can hang out all day that way, until you’re absolutely fed up with me.”

Mark giggled as they traipsed through the wet grass, passing the fresh crocuses.

“Uh, yeah, that sounds good,” Mark agreed. “I’ll text my parents and ask them.”

“I don’t think you’ll need to,” Yuta remarked, pointing straight ahead to where Mr. Lee stood in his driveway, getting ready to go out. “Mr. Lee!”

Mark’s dad turned around, startled for a moment, before waving.

“Your son is eating dinner over here!” Yuta yelled. “We’ll take good care of him!”

Mark laughed nervously at Yuta’s side as his dad consented. Yuta had to admit that his life was a little emptier when Mark’s ridiculous giggle-fits weren’t a daily feature.

Back in Yuta’s room, Mark hooked his phone up to Yuta’s Bluetooth speaker and played one of his most recent DJ set playlists while Yuta sat at his vanity and yanked a radish from the bunch he’d bought earlier from Jaehyun, biting off a chunk. It tasted watery and sharp.

“What are you doing?” Mark protested. “I thought those were for your parents.”

“I’m only taste-testing,” Yuta defended, mouth full of radish. “Calm down.” He poised the other half of the radish as if he were about to overhand chuck it in Mark’s direction. That was, in fact, what he planned to do. “Open up.”

Mark’s eyes went wide. “But it has your spit on it!”

Yuta rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a baby.”

Mark nodded in acquiescence, opening his mouth for a split second before thinking of something else to worry about.

“This seems dangerous though, like what if I choke on it?”

“Then that’s really too bad because I do not know the Heimlich,” Yuta snarked. “Try not to.”

Mark opened his mouth again and Yuta threw the radish in an arc the few feet between them. Mark shuffled a little to align his mouth and caught the radish, doing a little dance of victory when he realized he’d succeeded.

“Yoooooo!” he yelled around his mouthful.

Yuta clapped, he remarked to himself, like a cheerleader congratulating his boyfriend. Whatever. He wasn’t above that.

“That’s what I call synchronicity!” he said.

Then, Yuta decided to experiment with combinations of the new earrings he’d bought recently while he and Mark talked. They ended up mostly reminiscing about the stupid hijinks they’d gotten themselves into over the years: the time they got drunk and went skinny-dipping in the bioluminescence despite a slew of recent shark sightings (Mark kept trying to drift off into the mist and when they heard a loud splash near them in the water, Yuta asked Mark if he’d retrieve his dick if it got bitten off. “Is that something you would want me to do?” Mark had responded); the time they went cliff-diving as a group and somehow Yuta managed to injure himself while stumbling over rocks to take a picture and then tried to tell everyone who hadn’t been there that he’d hurt himself jumping into the water so he wouldn’t sound like an idiot; the time Mark tried weed for the first time and became convinced he was suffering an aneurysm, begging Yuta to make him a potion for it; all the times Yuta and Mark travelled to dance competitions together as kids and shared hotel rooms, planning their entire futures as they waited to get sleepy. They had promised to always have houses next to each other, and that their families and spouses would be forever close.

Yuta sometimes found that, with long-time friends he didn’t get to see as often as he would have liked, it was easier to reminisce than to create new, whole memories. It had nothing to do with Mark’s value as a friend, and they still came away from every summer with plenty of additional experiences and stories, but Yuta hated the feeling he sometimes got of their rhythm being off during the shorter breaks. He worried their friendship would calcify into something past tense. But then again, he figured, a deep understanding like what he and Mark shared didn’t need constant updates.

Being with Mark sometimes took him back to being eighteen – right before he left for college – and in a way he liked that as much as he liked his friend. He just got an occasional sinking feeling that they were missing each other’s landmarks. It was irrational, but he couldn’t deny it.

Mark had moved on to updates about his friend group as Yuta held a thin and dangly silver earring against his lobe. Mark nodded in approval and Yuta worked to stifle a sudden bout of coughing. Ah yes. There it is.

Later, at the dinner table, Yuta hardly got a word in edgewise with his parents and sister grilling Mark on how his first year was wrapping up: was his friend group holding up? Yup. Did he like his second semester classes? He did. Was he still sure he wanted to pursue a conservation major? Yes. Did he know who he’d room with the next year? He was going to try to room with his friend Yeri, but they had to sign a consent form for co-ed housing first. When was his next a cappella performance? The big one was in late April. Did he have a significant other?

Yuta almost hacked up a spoonful of his root vegetable soup before glaring at his mom, the source of that query.

“Aish, why does everyone wanna know that?” asked Mark, setting his spoon down for a second. “Sorry, it’s just really funny to me. No, I don’t.”

Yuta looked across the table to his mother and caught her sending an irritated look right back at him. He figured it was probably related to the vague threat she’d made earlier that she would know if he didn’t follow all her advice by the time he got home in the evening.

Once they’d finished eating, the boys helped wash the dishes and Mrs. Nakamoto gifted Mark a little vial of her signature lucky potion for him to use during finals.

“Bye, little dingus,” Haruna called to Mark as he and Yuta were on their way out for a quick post-prandial stroll. Yuta turned around.

“Don’t talk to your elder that way!” She rolled her eyes.

Outside, it was fully dark, and a distinct late-winter chill tinged the air enough that Yuta had to burrow his chin into the collar of his bomber jacket. Rather than the chatter of crickets they would have heard at that hour during summertime, the air sung with the hush of breeze rustling the pines and the distant break of ocean waves. Yuta thought bittersweetly about how the next time he’d see Mark for an extended time, the crickets would be back.

“Sorry for all the prying,” Yuta grumbled as the two made their way to the little pedestrian suspension bridge over the river on the edge of town. The river led to the ocean eventually, but inland, it felt thin and closed-off all the same. This bridge passing over it was one of Yuta and Mark’s favorite spots to sit and chat late at night without anyone hearing. In fact, it was that type of spot for most of the town’s young residents.

“Don’t be,” Mark said jovially, kicking his feet leisurely as he walked. “I expect it at this point. Bet you remember what that’s like.”

Yuta nodded. He did.

“You know,” Mark began, “it’s actually sorta calming to get the same questions over and over again. Cuz like, for some reason I keep getting really stressed out when I come home. I don’t know why…It’s kind of annoying.”

Yuta pointed at Mark in recognition as he chimed in. “No – I know exactly what you mean. I used to get that too. Remember when I had that panic attack?”

Mark nodded. “Oooh yeah, man, I do. You were calling me at like two in the morning and you sounded like you were crying. I had no idea what you were on about. But I guess now I understand more.”

Yuta smiled to himself as the sound of the river added its own particular hush to the mix of natural noises. He tried not to take too much comfort in the idea that his friend was now suffering the same way he had. At least it was a pretty privileged form of suffering…

Yuta took a deep breath, looking up and trying to find stars in the hazy dark sky.

“My mom calls it liminality. She says it's natural to feel spiritually detached at times of transition. It’s like your identity is thrown into flux and it can be hard to balance your competing selves all at once. You’ve got your independent college self and my little Markie boy who lives with his parents and can’t drive.” At this, Yuta grabbed Mark and tried to give him a noogie. “I think that’s what’s stressing you out. Might do you some good to recognize it and hear it verbalized.”

Mark laughed. They were approaching the entrance to the bridge. “I guess that makes sense. I – wait.”

Yuta took a second to register that Mark had cut himself off and stopped walking. He was staring into the distance towards the bridge, so Yuta followed his gaze. He blinked a few times in the dark, but once his vision focused, he noticed what Mark had been looking at: a dark lump in the center of the suspended walkway. It seemed to be moving – writhing almost – and Mark placed a finger over his mouth to indicate they should be silent. Little groans and giggles emanated from the wiggly lump over the rush of the water. It was a person – no – people.

Yuta felt himself about to start laughing, and he didn’t want to disrupt whatever moment was going on in front of them, so he grabbed Mark’s arm and hauled him away, running back towards their houses and cracking up the minute they thought they were out of earshot.

Mark tried to catch his breath from all the exertion. “Were, were they –”

“Fucking?” Yuta finished for him. “Yeah, I think so.”

Mark leaned over his knees. It was the same position Yuta had used several times in the last day to combat his lung issue. “Shit, man,” he said. “I was not expecting that.”

Yuta shook his head in disbelief. “Me neither. Here; on that note, let’s get you home. The Lees deserve their son back.”

“Sounds good. That’s enough excitement for one night.”

***

Yuta tiptoed back into the kitchen before going to the barn to sleep, opening the fridge to sneak another few bites of the raspberry meringue cake his mom had bought on a whim from the Seos while shopping for dinner.

Her voice in the dark startled him so badly that he jolted against the refrigerator shelving, rattling a whole row of bottled drinks and sauces and causing a racket.

“Holy shit, mom, you’re going to kill me,” he said, holding a hand against his chest like a 19th century gentlewoman.

“Come to the living room with me, Yuta,” she said, bypassing his griping.

Yuta gulped, following his mother’s directions until he was sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of her lounge chair.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d notice if you blew off my instructions?” she asked, sipping from a cup of tea. It smelled like chamomile and it was making Yuta sleepy.

“I know,” he said, “but I was with Mark all day and I didn’t want it to be weird for him while I like, went off into a corner to ruminate on my inner demons or whatever. I was still gonna do it. Also, I drank the potion you gave me.”

“I understand Yuta,” she said, cutting him off before he could spew any more excuses, “but you’re going to do it right now. I want you to feel better.”

“I already do feel a little better,” Yuta said, though he knew he was lying. His mom knew it too, because she gave him a skeptical sideways glance.

“You looked like you were holding in a coughing spell all through dinner,” she informed him. Had he? Yikes… “So, close your eyes.”

Yuta knew how this was going to go, but still, he let his mom lead him through breathing and visualization, focusing on tracking and changing the color and temperature of his internal energy as it passed through each of his limbs, his gut, hit neck and shoulders, his head, and finally, to his lungs. He tried to pull air in until it touched the extremity of them, boundaries of his body going fuzzy in concentration, but it was difficult for him; shaky almost.

His mother’s voice floated into his consciousness, instructing him to imagine the hollow of his mind and let thoughts begin to trickle in without obstruction; to let them come and go without judgement.

He thought of what Mark had been saying on their walk and how it resonated with his own experiences, how it frustrated him that he could never quite recreate the comfort of his and Mark’s dynamic when he visited him at school and they were with all Mark’s first year friends (at least Kun and Jaehyun were around at times, but still). He thought about how weird it felt for all his friends to be scattered around. Mostly though, he thought about the strange burning tightness that had been threatening to cut off his air supply over the last day whenever he dwelled too much on thoughts of his best friend, on observing him, on feeling lucky to know him.

Next thing he knew, he was coughing aggressively again, dragging in empty breaths whenever his throat gave him a break from its violent convulsing. The metal wires felt like they’d made their way into his heart. Neither his breathing nor his coughing was satisfactory though; there was still something stuck. What on earth was wrong with him?

Yuta latched back onto the sound of his mother’s voice as he calmed down and opened his eyes. She knelt next to him on the floor, rubbing over his back and knitting her brows in concern.

“Oh darling,” she cooed. “Have some tea.” He drank gladly, but this time the obstruction inside him stayed right where it was halfway down his windpipe. “It’s just as I thought. Something is blocking you off from your spiritual self.”

Yuta blinked some tears of exertion from his eyes, smirking as he returned somewhat to himself.

“You sure it’s not just my sarcasm?” he joked, and his mom scowled.

“Well, that’s certainly not helping,” she said. She kissed his forehead and pulled away to find her tarot deck. “But I am proud that you took that seriously. It obviously stirred something. Let me do a quick reading for you and then we can both get to bed.”

Yuta waited as she set up the deck and drew a six of cups, reversed. He sighed. Intense nostalgia; feeling caught in the past or with a past self. That much was obvious.

Yuta’s mother smiled at him softly. “Whatever this is, it’s holding you hostage in memories and longing.” He nodded, remembering his earlier conversation with Mark where they couldn’t seem to stop dwelling on an idealized highlight reel of teenage shenanigans. Right. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

“Not really.” Yuta yawned. He didn’t know if it was because he was actually tired or because he wanted this to wrap up.

Mrs. Nakamoto started packing her cards back up. “That’s alright. You should get some sleep anyway. Good night, dear.”

“G’night.”

***

Yuta gave back into coughing the minute he’d crossed the threshold to his room. He ran to the small trashcan next to his desk, still full of bottles from the night before, and heaved into it so hard he thought his eyes might pop out. Finally though, he had a twinge of relief when the thing that had been caught in his airway materialized on his tongue and his trachea cleared fully for the first time all day. He reached into his mouth and plucked out the offending object, holding it between his fingers over the trash. It was long and yellow and smooth, shaped like the wooden paddles Donghyuck’s ice cream shop gives out for testers.

A horrifying thought crossed Yuta’s mind as he rolled the delicate yellow petal softly between his fingers, watching it disintegrate under his touch and the acid of his saliva. He turned to the bouquet on the coffee table to his left, shivering as he caught a glimpse of the sunny yellow rays of petals adorning each of the three baby sunflowers in the vase. His heart dropped into his feet.

Of course.

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steve0discusses · 5 years

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Yugioh S3 Ep 38: Joey Takes Seto Out on a Pity Duel

Woo I’m back from Vancouver, which is a beautiful city--so freakin clean. Like I dunno if any Canadians read this blog but DAMN, it was so clean! It’s always nice to travel, be fancy, pig out on poutine, cry about how much you miss Uber, and pretend you’re another person for a little while, but at some point I had to come home, where, after the adrenaline of travel wore off, I realized I had actually been running a fever the entire time. (it was hard to tell yousee because there’s been a massive heatwave? It’s a long story)

So, I say this to explain that at some point during this week when I was a litttttttle out of it, I decided to put a Yugioh post together, and so it might be a little less than coherent than it normally is. But hey, it’s a short episode, and so I will leave it up to bro. If bro allows it, the post will go up, if bro tells me to go to hell to bed and take a break then I just won’t post anything and y’all can assume I was eaten by a bear in downtown Vancouver.

Bro’s decided Yugioh doesn’t make a whole ton of sense anyway so I guess we’ll be posting it.

So, where were we? That’s right, Kaiba lost a card game, which is like...most of what he does in this show.

Kaiba has had...a FEW meltdowns over the course of this show but in this one he’s decided it was high time to roll into a little ball and wallow in so much self pity, and it sure was a look that everyone else just had to kind of awkwardly watch.

(read more under the cut)

And then, he says, apropos of nothing, this exact line.

Kaiba, I swear.

On the other end of the field, Yugi and friends have decided to ignore this desperate plea for help and are just all smiles because this show loves nothing more than to dunk on Kaiba. It’s nice that no matter how much this show tries to make Kaiba into a relatable character that we should feel bad for, they will always go right back to just dunking on him, every single opportunity they get.

The kids are also thrilled that Joey’s no longer a victim in the hospital.

Don’t worry about it, Joey’s fine now, don’t think about it, it’s fine. This is very Joey Wheeler, who, despite being possessed and concussed so many times, seems to get through his entire, stressful life, completely free of all consequences. He’s fine.

And then, out of nowhere, Pharaoh just lets loose all this pent up angst he’s been harboring against Seto. the timing is just so weird because Seto’s like “I have no one to blame but myself” and Pharaoh’s like “oh are you open to suggestions? I have so many suggestions.” and just starts piling on unsolicited critiques like internet rando’s piling on an child’s art forum.

Like it’s been kind of a while since Pharaoh’s been this condescending--basically since Season 1--and he was loving it. It was still a very weird fight he and Seto had where basically everyone ganged up on Kaiba and demanded that Kaiba make more friends.

And it’s like guys...Seto’s having a hard time right now and his Dad and Brother died this morning, like...maybe instead of demanding he make friends with you, you just kinda...give him some space? Not like any of these kids would have any idea what personal space is considering they run into each other’s brains like 2 times a season.

It’s just the entitlement coming off of the Yugi team is sort of remarkable. Granted, Kaiba is an asshole, but like...was this necessary? No. But Pharaoh sure did it anyway.

And then Pharaoh threw Joey in there just to brag? It was just the weirdest humble brag cat fight between Yugi, who is arguably the most weird and unpopular kid in their school and Seto, who is just as unlikeable because he is a random ass college student that is attending a High School and yet can’t seem to accelerate past Yugi’s grade.

But anyways, this is an anime, so there must always be that one kid who just refuses to make friends with anyone (although he’s clearly the instigator of all their hang outs). Gotta have that trope of the tsundere friend.

And so at this point I guess Joey was feeling kinda bad for Kaiba, because he mentions that he was once much like Kaiba. Joey says he used to pick on people all the time and he didn’t want any friends, and I’d probably know more about that if I went back to Season Zero one of these days...but Joey decides to extend a hand in friendship. Which, going by Joey’s definition, means he decides to offer a duel that has no magic in it. A blessed, rare, thing.

That’s right, you read the title, Joey decides to take Seto out on a pity duel. There really is no other way to read this, Joey is just...so determined to make Seto feel better so he doesn’t jump directly off this tall structure like Seto has threatened to do once a season since this show began.

So, now that Joey has tricked Seto into a play date, everyone decided to get off the duel tower, and instead duel on this pile of rubble at the base of it that MUST be completely covered in seagull poop. It makes for a nice dystopian background. I mean how much rebar was in those buildings Seto blew up?

Also, I almost forgot that Marik’s “good” side has been inhabiting Tea.

And of course it was Tristan who noticed this and immediately jumped to the bathroom conclusion. He would.

He would.

In actuality, Marik decided to pay a visit to his sister to bring up something that has been bothering him for an entire season that I have completely forgotten about.

YEAH.

I mean there’s been a LOT of filler between that moment that Marik overheard his Sister tell everyone that Marik murdered their Dad over seeing a single picture of a motorcycle and now. So much filler that I would have assumed even Marik forgot at this point but nah, we’re gonna talk about this. We’re gonna talk abut this very heavy thing that has been weighing on Marik’s mind for probably several years now. The thing that pushed Marik off that ledge in the first place.

And that’s really all they seem to say about it. Marik seems pretty well adjusted to the fact that his evil half did this. Maybe after the time he’s been stewing in Tea’s bean, staring at that one parrot and his reflection in the ballet mirrors, Marik came to terms with how he murdered his own Dad.

Nice that he did that emotional beat offscreen, but this is Yugioh so that screentime got cut for more cards I guess.

So, Marik decides it’s time he use this Tea-quality gorilla strength and get to punching out his possessed body.

Oh hell it’s a fight scene with Tea.

Next update and every update will be me looking forward to this fight scene with Tea.

I know that the show hasn’t touched on other important things, like how Mokuba and Seto seem to be having a bit of a falling out, or how Pharaoh just saw himself die, or how Joey is still carrying around guilt from how much of an asshole he was in his past but like...

...I really want to see this fight scene with Tea.

Anyways if you just got here, this is a link to read the Yugioh journey from the beginning.

#Yugioh #ygo #episode recap #photo recap #s3 ep 38 #Joey wheeler #Seto Kaiba #Tea gardner #Marik ishtar #Ishizu Ishtar #Tristan Taylor #Duke Devlin #Mokuba Kaiba #Mokuba #I can't believe the writers just handed us a filler duel and were like we're not even going to hide it this time

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limpblotter · 7 years

Text

Fly me to the Moon

[Previously...] [Next...] A/N: Ok so like...the more parts I make, the more parts I think up. This might be never ending fluff. (until I kill it all with Angst c:< ) Also I’m really happy I get to use my native New Yorker knowledge for something other than giving people directions via subway. Summary: Johan is pretty jazzed about being in New York or rather seeing a cute bodega owner. Ft. Team Benny and Sonny. (idk why but they turned into Timon and Pumba in my head, I kinda dig it) Warning(s): if you don’t like two gay men trying to figure out what feelings are sort of fluff then this is your warning not to read. Also its kinda long. Wordcount: 5250 (I GOT CARRIED AWAY I AM SO SORRYYY T^T) Taggies: Aha, I actually got requested to tag someone and I nearly died, I’m still recovering but @hell-yes-puns-and-ships

New York wasn’t so bad. So what, Johan wasn’t sitting balcony side at some cute Parisian building, looking out at cobblestone streets enjoying a mid-morning glass of wine and fruit. People driving small scooters and walking hand in hand with paper bagged goods from the local stores. The air thick with the smells of wine and rose water perfumes. No he was far from the debonair lifestyle of his beloved France. He was however, for two days now, enjoying the company of a local store owner. A man who’s strange, quiet like charm held together by the soft warmth of a hard working face captured Johan’s attention. Johan was a little surprised he found himself thinking about that smile as often as he did. The spirit of NY was consuming him. The hotel they stayed at was up to snuff, Bow didn’t think it necessary to get two rooms so here he was, sharing a bed with his sister like the good old days. The days when it was four hippies and a sleeping bag on the forest floor, oh how Johan did not miss those days.

Johan woke up from his idled daydreams and pulled himself to his feet. He walked to the bathroom and began playing music on his phone. By the time he was out of the bathroom, Bow was awake too; sitting crossed legged on the bed reading through the room service menu. “You think they’d care if I order some pancakes with a side of dill pickles? You know...so I can dunk it in syrup or cream cheese...both” Her voice trailed off.

“First of all, that's disgusting.” Johan ran a towel through his wet curls. He pulled a few curls into place, taking extra time to make sure not hair was out of place. “Secondly, you’re pregnant so who cares?” He tossed the towel aside and placed his phone on top of the dresser. The music played while he picked out clothes. Usually Johan didn’t care what he wore. He, more than often, tossed on any of his nice European brand clothing on but since his arrival to the city he had been meticulously picking items for an outfit. Bow placed the menu down and pursed her lips a bit. She noticed there was something strange going on with her little brother.

Johan began to hum along to the music playing on his phone. “Sinatra? I didn’t know you were a fan of crooners?” Bow tilted her head.

“I never said I wasn’t.” Johan ignored her, his attention was on his reflection.. “When in Rome do as the Romans did.” In this case New York. Johan shook his head, struggling between a few options. Bow could see through his nonchalant response that something was up. It was time to do what she did best as his big sister and a mother of almost five.

Probe like the last colonoscopy she oversaw last week. “So where are you going?” Johan seemed to freeze. Dreaded words filled with a sneaky accusation.

“Just...going to grab a local cup of coffee, you know truly submerge myself in New York culture.” He avoided her big sister/motherly gaze. It was as potent as the lasso of truth. “When I was back in France I drank nothing but the local wines, I really got a deep appreciation for the agriculture and taste of the country.”

“I’m pretty sure that coffee you’ve been drinking is imported from Cuba.” Wonder Woman Bow smirked a little, Johan flinched, she knew? No she couldn’t have known...lucky guess. “Well whoever you’re meeting have fun, you should invite them to the luncheon tomorrow.”

“Yes because spending an afternoon with pill pushing pharmaceutical slaves under the health care regime is even more fun with friends.” Johan grabbed his wallet and started out the door. He was met with a finger being pointed at him.

“See, this is why I’m the favorite.” And on that note, he was out.

Morning rush in New York happened around the hours of 8am-9. These were the times business men were hopping on the Metro North to get to the city. School buses were trying to beat the public transportation overload and most importantly, shops were cranking out coffee and breakfast like machines. After that it was a dead zone until lunch time. Usnavi kept his shop open even after the morning rush; the routine was he was open no matter what. The chance of losing just one customer could make the difference between meeting rent or not. A man like Usnavi was hard working and wasted not a single opportunity to turn a profit from every customer. Sonny knew for a fact if he was a more reliable employee Usnavi might be inclined to take a break.

The door creaked open around eleven o’clock and Usnavi was in the back moving things around from the refrigerator. He balanced a screwdriver between his teeth while he meddled with the finicky cooling component of the cheap cooler. “Good Morning” he muttered. After a few more seconds of messing around and a few grease stains later he emerged from the back.“Sorry about that, I hope you weren’t waiting…” He spoke, and very slowly the head of hair he was talking to turned and Johan smiled at him. Usnavi froze in mid-stride. He was …back.

“Bonjour.” Johan smiled, having internally slapped himself. Was that the best he came up with? Usnavi still silent, Johan managed to recovered. “That coffee is worth the trip, I don’t know what is in that yellow container but its potent.”

“Well it is what keeps folks in the barrio moving.” Usnavi finally found his voice as the waves of shock subsided. “I’ll get you started.” Usnavi went around the counter and felt …nervous? He made coffee millions no billions of times. He had been brewing by the time his mother taught him how to reach the stove. All of this was second nature so why of all times did his hand shake now? He felt eyes on him and the shakes intensified. Usnavi made the poor mistake of looking up and found he was right, Johan was looking right at him. “Heh” his lips twitched trying to hold a smile together. All of the sudden his fingers malfunctioned and the coffee scoop (filled with fine ground up coffee powder) slipped out of grasp. The fine brown espresso powder scattered all over the ground. What a waste, and more important, Johan saw the whole thing. “Mierda” he hissed bending over to retrieve it.

Johan tried not to laugh, he didn’t know Spanish but he damn knew that ‘mierda’ sounded a lot like ‘merde’. He tilted his head watching Usnavi bend over and search the floor for his coffee scoop. Without thinking his eyes slid up from his legs and settled on something…else. He had a nice a-- woah! Johan noticed Usnavi was standing upright now and he had his eyes clearly on the man’s behind. He wrenched his head away quickly. Luckily for him, Usnavi didn’t seem to have noticed where Johan’s eyes had gone. What he did notice was what a nice profile Johan had. A strong jaw, perfectly groomed facial hair, long lashes, a regal yet strangely cute nose. Not to mention that hair that framed him so well, some men were just born good looking. Usnavi wasn’t one of them in his eyes but he didn’t complain having one to look at.

After an unsuccessful few tries he finally got Johan’s coffee ready and placed it in front of him. Before Johan could reach for the coffee Usnavi spoke up, “On the house.” Usnavi rarely did that, last time he gave someone something on the house was…he turned around going back to work; figuring Johan wanted to be on his way.

Instead, Johan stared down at the coffee. Personally he would have been offended someone giving him a hand out. He was more than financially capable. There would have been a lecture about his brotherhood and his integrity had it been someone else. There was something genuinely sweet Usnavi had tried to do. Something like that wasn’t common in Johan’s life, little acts of honest-to-god sweetness. “Is generosity common trait of New York City?”

Usnavi perked up, Johan didn’t leave right away. Usnavi didn’t dare believe he actually wanted to hang around the store. If he could keep his company a bit longer, he was going to try. “Depends where you look.” He spoke casually, moving around the assortment of knickknacks he sold behind the counter. “I like to think the city is filled with undiscovered bits of generosity.”

“I wish I had the navigational know-how to show me this ‘undiscovered bits.’ ” Johan realized only after he spoke, there was an invitation in his sentence, one he didn’t take back. “This city is a little confusing for someone like me, the streets of Paris were so...how do I say, si simpliste” The accent brought that warm smile to Usnavi’s face. Would he take the invitation?

It was a shame Usnavi was dense. “It's not too hard, New York is on a grid, once you know up and down you can get most anywhere. I can get you a map if you want?”

He was too dense, it was painfully innocent. Johan was a bit discouraged that Usnavi didn’t seem to take the hit...Johan himself didn’t know why he had said those things. What was he hoping for? “Thanks, uh...I’ll take it from here.” Johan seemed a little embarrassed. He got his hopes up for something he didn’t even know he wanted. He turned and walked out of the store quickly, hoping to leave his embarrassment behind.

Usnavi watched him go, following him with his eyes until he was out of sight. Usnavi stared at the window for a while, overcome with a feeling of...loss. In that instance he felt both anxious and stuck. He felt like he had to run or something but at the same time his legs were stiff, his feet planted on the ground. Where would he go if he allowed his body to move? Where did he want to go? His urges of action came few and far between, he was a man of routine. There were moments though, moments that moved him into action.

The big haired Californian was looking around, walking up the avenue watching for any signs. He actually had no idea where he was headed. “Wait!” Johan turned around and saw the Hispanic store owner run towards him. By the time he caught up with Johan, Usnavi was well out of breath. Johan had no idea what he was doing, neither did Usnavi. But the moment was decided when Usnavi chose Johan over his store. “I...I would feel really bad if you got lost in the Heights.” Usnavi looked up at him, this was probably the closest they had stood next to each other. Usnavi was a small guy but now he felt like he had shrank. “If that's ok, with you.” He stood there, nerves bouncing inside him. A part of him wanted to go back the store. The safety of what he knew.

“Of course, lead the way.” Johan brought the cup to his mouth and sipped, masking the huge grin on his face.

______________________

“Sonny?!” A stocky, tall, tanned skinned man with a loose fitting button up came running towards the store front. He found Sonny sitting with his head between his knees. “Sonny I got the call, this better be an emergency. I just left Nina with teething one year old who has intense diaper rash and is going through a post nap time cranky fit.” He didn't respond, “Sonny?...”

“Benny…” Sonny spoke with his head down still. “Look at the store and tell me what you see?”

Benny scratched his head and looked it over. Nothing seemed out of place, the grate was down, the windows seemed intact. “I think your a/c is busted” He pointed to steam coming out the side of the shop.

“No, its closed Benny. The store is closed.” Sonny looked up at him with watery eyes, slowly Benny’s eyes widened in realization. “B-Benny, Usnavi never closes shop. Ever. Not now! Lunch rush is coming up soon. And like...I’ve tried calling his phone and nada, nothing, zippo. I think something happened to him, man!” He got to his feet and started pacing and mumbling.

“Did you call the cops?”

“Oh yeah I’m going to call the cops to search for a missing Hispanic guy? Here lemme take out my joint while I’m at it to!” He shook his head. “Cops won’t do anything but arrest him, this is 2017 Benny! Trump’s America!” Benny rolled his eyes, he didn’t keep up with the social justice movements. As long as his friends and family were safe he tried to stay out of the mess that their country was getting itself into. Though, he was mildly curious about the joint. “Aye dios mio, mi primo, aye primo…” Sonny clutched his chest in worry. “USNAVI! WHERE ARE YOU, MY MAN” He suddenly yelled out into the air, forcing Benny to take several steps away from him. The idea of counseling Sonny to deal with his rationally was replaced by an elderly man pushing a shaved ice cart.

“Estan buscando señor Usnavi?” The Piragua man smiled peacefully.

“Yea we are, also can I get cherry?” Benny took out a dollar, figuring he might as well treat himself. “Have you seen Usnavi?”

The old man took his time shaving the ice with his steel shaver, shaping it into a cone shape and dousing it with thick, red cherry syrup. Sonny was sweating bullets by the time he spoke, handing the treat to Benny. “He’s down a few blocks at, de Washington parque. I saw him talking to another señor, tall man. Un hombre peludo.” He made a fluffing gesture over his head with his hand.

“Gracias.” Benny smiled then turned back at Sonny who was narrowing his eyes. At least he wasn’t about to cry. “See?” Benny ignored the straw and spoon; he bit off a chunk of ice at the tip and swallowed. “Usnavi is fine.”

“...why did he close the store to go to the park? And who is the hairy man?” Sonny looked over at Benny. Benny started to chew a bit slower.

“Usnavi never takes a break...man hasn’t taken a break from working the store since…” He wasn’t going to even attempt to do the math on that one.

“Yo, let’s go check out the park, if we book it we can see if they’re still there!” Sonny grabbed Benny’s arm and tugged.

The larger man let out a soft chuckle, “Sonny, I gotta get back to Nina.”

“Come on, your kid will still be there when you get back. Don’t tell me ya not dying to know who the hell got Usnavi to take a break.” Sonny wiggled his eyebrow. Benny weighed his options, go back to his cranky wife and child or ...take a few more minutes from his day to indulge in the ol’ fashion tomfoolery of the barrio. “That’s what I thought.” Sonny smirked, feeling Benny’s arm relax. “Vamos”

________

The park wasn’t actually called the Washington Bridge Park, it was actually named J.Hood Wright Park. However it was located in Washington Heights and overlooked the edge of the city, having a near flawless sight of the bridge. The playground was also inspired by the Washington Bridge, white and mint green steel bars were built in the shape of the bridge. It was a great place for kids who wanted to climb, but that aside it had the common perks of most parks. Swings, sprinklers but Usnavi remembered it mainly for the sights. On the way to the park he had pointed out little things, the track and field center, and the best places to get a slice of pizza. When they got to the park, Usnavi popped a squat on a swing, most of the playground empty since kids were still at school in early June.

“It doesn’t look like much but this park as one of the nicest views.” He smiled, “I’m sure parks in California are better...and in France right?”

“Well.” Johan ran a napkin over the swing seat before sitting down too. “Growing up my parents never allowed my sister and I to partake in the joys of going to a playground. They uh, said that playgrounds were the government's way of justifying their blatant destruction of trees and natural resources for artificial outdoor entertainment.” He rolled his eyes; it was so typical of his parents to have these beliefs.

Usnavi nodded slowly not sure what half of that even meant. “...yeah I wasn’t big on playgrounds. I helped my dad out with the store on my free time. Usually I took a minute or two just to enjoy the view.” ...and now it had been awhile since he did that.

“You’ve worked in that store a long time, huh?” He knew for sure he couldn’t do it. Johan always wanted to be on the move. One minute he was there, next somewhere else, the world was his high way and he was in a high speed chase in life. Sticking around in anything for too long wasn’t his style. “I don’t know how you do it.”

An extremely exhausted sigh came out of Usnavi. Johan turned his head and noticed he looked...so tired. In one moment Usnavi aged before Johan’s eyes. The warmth in his greeting, the brightness in his wholesome attitude melted away to a tired man. “It's been in my blood since I got here with my parents as a kid. They made it something out of nothing, now it’s my something to keep going. It’s all I got of theirs.” His eyes closed just as a soft summery wind blew against them. There was a sadness that washed over him. Johan didn’t know what to do, how to bring him back. He didn’t deal with emotions like this before.

“Well...you’re here.” Johan smiled a bit, it was a bit forced. He didn’t know how to be happy when Usnavi looked so down. “The store might be their investment but their legacy...their lineage thats you. And no matter what you do, you’ll have them with you. You are them…” Usnavi’s eyes slowly opened; there was a thick layer of water that draped over his eyes. “Literally, like you are half of both of your parents’ genetics, so like...you really are them.”

“Ha!” He laughed out loud, he snorted a bit. He ran his hand over his eyes capturing any tears that had tried to weasel out of his eyes and wiped them away. “...yeah...you right.” His smile returned a bit brighter than before. Their eyes met for a second and they sat there in silence, rocking back and forth on the swings. “So how do you like your first swing set?”

“The leather is a bit flimsy but you know…” He shifted his butt in the seat and nodded. “I can live with this.”

The laughter erupted from both of them. It filled the empty playground and the ears of two eager onlookers. “Why are they just sittin’ around in a park?” Benny spoke between the last few bits of his cherry slush. “Why would Usnavi close up shop just to creep around in the park with some dude?”

“I can’t believe this…” Sonny pressed his face up against the fence listening to their laugher, watching the way they looked at eachother as it died down. “Don’t tell me you don’t see this shit?” Benny shook his head a bit. “You don’t see what I’m seein?!” Sonny motioned to them. “Look them, cozying up by the swings, laughing like this is some high school musical shit. I swear they are two seconds away from breaking out in song and dance about how life is wonderful.” Sonny knew that look, he was around his cousin enough to know that look. He had seen that looked before.

“Wait you don’t mean…”

“Como no!? Miralo!” He motioned as Usnavi and Johan moved from the swings and started walking towards the back fence where the park looked out over the Hudson. “He’s even taking him where the trees are probably making a move.”

“Makes sense why things with Vanessa didn’t work out...actually come to think of it, I should have seen this coming.” Benny finished off his slush and shrugged. “Ok so Usnavi bats for the Mets and not the Yankees, what's the big deal?”

“What is th---when things didn’t work out with Vanessa after all that went down that summer, he was crazy.” Benny shook his head as Sonny began to elaborate. “Benny, you don’t get it. He was super ...just...upset and took it out on me for 3 months straight. He had me scrubbin’ the bottom of the coolers until one night I found his ass eating four pints of Ben&Jerry’s in the corner of the store.”

“Wow.” Four pints, that was a lot even for a guy Benny’s size. “So what are you...saying this is a bad thing?”

“It is if it don’t work out. I can’t take another heartbreak.” The young man whined.

Benny shook his head patting Sonny’s back. “I’m so glad you’re looking out for Usnavi.” He muttered sarcastically. “Look, if it happens it happens. I always told Usnavi he’s his worst enemy. He doesn’t know how to make moves and frankly he ain’t go no skills.” Personally Benny would have be surprised if things had worked out between Usnavi and Vanessa. Once she officially moved downtown Usnavi ...didn’t seem to chase her. It was the same when Nina and Benny moved a few blocks away, they rarely saw Usnavi like they use to. The man was literally cemented to his corner. “Ok. I know what we gotta do.” He grabbed Sonny by the back of the shirt and peeled him off the fence.

Usnavi and Johan talked casually. They spoke about the little things that didn’t seem to have too much weight. They compared the weather, taxes, occasionally Johan said something that flew over Usnavi’s head and there was a lot of nodded and blank smiling involved. But there was never a moment neither one wasn’t engaged. Usnavi listened with a smile and Johan hung on every word Usnavi said. “So ...your parents named you U.S. Navy?” Johan stifled a laugh and glanced up at the sky. He could feel Usnavi’s glare on him.

“Yes, laugh it up.” Usnavi pouted, throwing his hand up in the air. This wasn’t the first time someone had to comment on his name. “My parents were so excited about the country they named me US Navy.”

“That’s…”

“Stupid, I know. Trust me you’re not the first person to think that. It's annoying to explain, annoying to correct people, it's annoying to live with but I’ve gone practically three decades like this so what.” This was just bringing him back to being a child again and having kids poke and probe at his name and origin.

“I was going to say it's adorable.” Johan responded sweetly after Usnavi went off on his small tangent. “I mean my parents named my sister Rainbow and me, Johan. It's like they didn’t try with my sister, and semi tried. Like I feel like John was their initial idea then they just got weird with it.”

“Johan is a lot easier to say.” Usnavi’s voice was dull. His mouth stuck in a seldom, little pout that broke Johan’s heart in ways he didn’t think possible. Why did a grown man evoke so many childlike feelings in him?

“I rather say your name.” Johan responded, he wanted to erase that pout. For both Usnavi’s sake and Johan’s own heart. “Usnavi.” He very slowly and articulately said his name. There was a noticeable response from Usnavi. His body tensed up and his mouth released itself from its pout. Instead it was pursed together in a hard line meanwhile his body suffered from a jittery, nerve tingling sensation that crawled up his spine. He felt like fire ants were conga lining up and down his back and around his face. Hot and almost static like pains that set his heart fluttering. He was speechless. He never liked his name but god did it sound nice coming from Johan’s mouth. He wanted to hear it again.

“USNAVI!”

Usnavi blinked up at Johan, that wasn’t his voice. “S-Sonny!?” His heart was now racing for another reason entirely. “BENNY? His panic increased tenfold now.

“Sup’” Benny didn’t look too happy, his eyes went right to Johan. Clearly, he was sizing this man up. Benny and Sonny made their ways towards Johan. The taller man glanced at Usnavi as if saying ‘what is happening?’

Usnavi gave him an apologetic smile, which was short, lived since Sonny decided to plant himself in front of Usnavi breaking their wordless conversation of gazes. “So I don’t think we ever got around to introducin’ ourselves. I’m Sonny, Sonny De La Vega. Usnavi’s little and beloved cousin.” From the way Usnavi was glaring at the back of his younger cousin’s head he was going to be his beloved, dead cousin. “You?”

“Johan, Johan Johnson.” He nodded holding out his hand but Sonny didn’t take it. Instead it was met with the strong and irony vice grip of Benny. He shook Johan’s hand once and got his knuckles to pop. A small wince graced Johan’s face. “Hello.” He tried to smile but Benny’s harden face was thoroughly intimidating. They were roughly the same height but Benny’s aura made him seem like a giant.

“Name is Benny.” He released Johan’s hand and smirked. “Just Benny. Usnavi is a dear and near friend of mine. Godfather to my baby girl. Mi compadre.” He pulled Usnavi front and center, placing his arm around his small shoulders. “So, tell me Johan what are your intentions with our Navi? Where are you from? What do you do for a living?” He shot typical fatherly questions, getting a lesson of overprotective parenting from his father in-law. He considered this practice for the inevitable future of his daughter.

“YO.” Usnavi hissed shoving Benny aside, which really did nothing but Benny moved accordingly. “Cut it out.” He grumbled between his teeth. He pulled Benny aside and started cussing him out in Spanish keeping his voice hushed. They left a very confused Johan to the mercy of Sonny.

“So like, if you’re gonna be in New York for a while, you should come to my graduation party” Sonny’s invitation forced Usnavi and Benny to look at him and share a unison, ‘QUE?’ “I’m graduating community college with honors, which like…isn’t big or anything but not a lot of people in our hood get to do it. So Usnavi is throwing me a party at his place” Sonny blushed a bit, “if you’re around you should pop by.”

“Graduating is a big feat no matter the schooling.” Johan nodded, this was a good chance to see how Usnavi lived. Get to know the people around him; get to know him most importantly. That was something he could not pass up. “I’d love to go.”

“Cool, I’ll tell Navi to cough up his digits, he can message you the address and time.” Sonny turned around with his back to Johan. He stared down his cousin’s face of frozen horror with a lazy smirk. “Anyway, I gotta get going. Lunch rush is startin’ soon, gotta open the store.” Sonny walked off with his hands behind his head.

Benny nodded; impressed Sonny had sly skills to hook up his cousin. Anyone who knew Usnavi knew he was never going to give up his phone number just like that. “I’m heading out too, Nina is probably going to rip my head off if I don’t go back. See you around Usnavi” His smile turned into a hard line as he addressed Johan next, “You too.”

“They seem nice.” The way Johan said that made it hard to infer whether it was sarcasm or not. Usnavi was still horrified over what happened. Processing everything like a slow dial-up computer, if Johan listened really well he could hear the AOL loading sound coming from Usnavi’s brain. “I look forward to the party. We should probably exchange numbers…that is if you’re alright with me going. I assume this is a family and close friends’ event. I’d understand if you feel uncomfortable having a complete stranger attending.”

The problem wasn’t Johan attending. The problem was Johan was going to be in a room of people, that Usnavi barely knew how to deal with himself. At his own house “No… I, uh, its fine, the more the merrier right?” Usnavi’s fingers trembled as he pulled out his dated iPhone 4s from his pocket. He couldn’t bring himself to ask for Johan’s number. “Here” he muttered holding the phone out in front of him, his face and eyes casted to the side unable to look at him. Very delicately Johan took the ancient piece of Apple technology and inputted his number into the phone. While he was at it, he sent himself a message and in return had Usnavi’s number. Just in case the man decided never to speak to him again. Just as carefully he plopped the phone back in Usnavi’s open palm.

“I’ll see you then.” Johan had long finished his coffee, but he held the cup to his face as a censor to his glowing smile. It did little to mask his full, toothy grin. Those perfectly, pearly whites in the most wholesome of smiles made Usnavi twitch where he stood.

“See you then.” Usnavi nodded in agreement. Johan walked off, and like the first time Usnavi followed him with his eyes. He watched as Johan paused at a corner, the light was for him to cross but he stood there. Probably lost, Usnavi thought to himself. The taller man was only proving to be more and more adorable as Usnavi picked apart his every move. To his surprise he started walking again, barely catching the light. By the time he vanished from his sight, Usnavi’s phone buzzed. He had several missed calls and unanswered messages from Sonny. He ignored them all.

There was one message that he could not ignore. A message from a ‘Johan’ and it read.

[ See you :) ]

Usnavi walked with his nose in his phone. He reread the message several times. Was Johan excited to see him again? Is that why he texted him? Or was this just a reminder to send him the address; did that count as being excited? Was Johan as strangely excited as he was? Probably not. Usnavi knew his feelings had a knack of getting away from him. Still…he reread that message the whole way back. Not bothering to look up and watch where he was going. He entered his, now open, store looking up with a dazed smile. “Uh…” The smile was short-lived when he was met by Sonny and Benny.

Both men were standing by his counter, arms crossed, smirking widely with millions of questions burning in their eyes. “So?” Benny wiggled his eyebrow.

Crap, Usnavi wasn’t prepared for the full force interrogation that was about to commence. He tucked his phone into his back pocket and prepared himself for the worse.

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