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suituuup · 3 years

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that's the kind of love i've been dreaming of

Has Beca mentioned that she hates his guts? Everything is just too… annoyingly nice. His charming smile, his messy but not too messy hair, his sense of humor, and well, his taste in women, as he’s dating the girl Beca happens to be in love with.

Word count: 2005

Rating: T

Entry for Bechloe week, day one: “Because I'm in love with you, dumbass.”

Beta by the lovely @snowonebutyou and thanks to @green-eyed-weirdo for bouncing ideas with me <3

READ ON AO3

The muffled giggle greeting Beca when she steps through the door makes her groan. The deep voice that follows confirms that Chloe is indeed not alone, and Beca briefly considers turning around and… going for a walk or something.

But her feet are about to fall off, she feels gross from her overcrowded subway ride home where she’s pretty sure a dude sniffed her hair, and she is really fucking tired.

She’s just flopped down face first on the pull-out couch when the door to Chloe’s bedroom opens, and two sets of feet grow closer.

“You alright, Becs?”

Beca grunts something inaudible in acknowledgment before she rolls on her back. “M’fine.”

“Hey Beca,” Chicago greets her with a soft smile, and Beca somehow manages to leash in her sneer.

“Hey,” she mumbles, the best she can muster when it comes to Chloe’s boyfriend.

Has she mentioned that she hates his guts? Everything is just too… annoyingly nice. His charming smile, his messy but not too messy hair, his sense of humor, and well, his taste in women, as he’s dating the girl Beca happens to be in love with.

Yep. It’s only been four years and a half; not a big deal.

She was this close to admitting her feelings to Chloe, still reeling with adrenaline after her solo performance, when Chloe ran to Army Boy instead. Beca doesn’t think she knew what a broken heart felt like until that very moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Chicago asks, setting his hands on Chloe’s hips.

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees and leans up to kiss his lips. Beca rolls her eyes, grabbing her phone from her back pocket as a distraction from the display of gag-worthy affection.

The door finally clicks shut behind Chicago, and Beca hears Chloe sigh. That kind of content sigh that has jealousy flare up within her because Chloe should be sighing like that because of her.

“I thought he was leaving tomorrow morning?” Beca asks as she scrolls through her Instagram, not really registering the photos zooming past her eyes.

“Not anymore,” Chloe says, biting on her bottom lip like she’s trying to prevent a smile from breaking through. “He’s um, going to be stationed in Brooklyn. His request just got granted.”

A huge lump forms in Beca’s throat as she registers the news and an uneasy feeling seized her stomach. “That’s--” she swallows with difficulty, swiping her tongue over her dry lips. “That’s great, Chlo.”

She soon exits Instagram, opening her safari to look for apartment listings.

Finding an apartment in New York City within her price range, as it turns out, is pretty fucking difficult.

You would think Beca was aware of that given the fact that there used to be one more person living in her current studio, with a simple curtain acting as bathroom walls.

(she definitely has PTSD from that night Amy had food poisoning from Taco Bell.)

When Amy moved out, Chloe took her room, because Beca is the night owl of the two, usually coming home late from work or cooking dinner after Chloe has gone to bed.

It’s pushing eleven by the time she makes it back that night, and she prays that Chloe is already in bed. The past couple of weeks following the news have been… weird, to say the least. Beca has been avoiding Chloe, coming up with excuses whenever Chloe asks her if she wants to hang out.

She makes herself a quick dinner (okay, makes might be a bit of an overstatement: she just pours some hot water over instant noodles. Don’t come at her.) and messes around on her laptop for a while, turning the lights off just after one am.

A moan reaching her ears just as she feels herself dozing off has her eyes fly open. A moan that very much belongs to Chloe, and Beca just wants to disappear off the face of the earth. Quiet laughter follows, and when the bed starts squeaking, leaving no doubt regarding what they’re doing in there, Beca ponders smothering herself with her own pillow.

She grabs her headphones instead, hastily placing them over her ears before she hears something that will most likely scar her forever. It somewhat cancels out the sounds, enough for Beca to fall asleep. She flees the apartment before either of them is awake, drowning her sorrows in a double espresso from the corner coffee shop.

Over the next few days, she excels in avoiding Chloe. She knows Chloe’s schedule well enough to come back when she’s either asleep or not there. Or at least she thought so.

“Hey.”

Beca freezes as she closes the door, looking over her shoulder to find Chloe popping her head out of the fridge.

Beca clears her throat, rubbing her nose with her knuckle as she stares down at the scuff of her shoes. “Hey,” she echoes, setting her keys down on the counter.

“Long time no see,” Chloe says as Beca sits on the edge of her bed to take her boots off.

“Yeah um, I’ve been busy,” Beca mumbles as she undoes her laces.

“Busy avoiding me?”

Beca’s spine snaps straighter at that, and she looks up to meet Chloe’s eyes. “No, just--” her shoulder lifts in a half shrug. “I figured you and Chicago might enjoy some private time together.”

Chloe hums like she doesn’t believe her. “You’d tell me if-- if something was bothering you, right? I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

Beca swallows. “It’s not you, Chlo. I’m just--” she sighs, feeling her frustration rise as she scrapes her brain for a believable lie. “Work sucks and I feel like I’m getting nowhere, so I’ve been crankier than usual.”

Chloe nods, her lips curving in a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you’re having a hard time at work,” she says. “We should go out tonight! It’s been forever.”

Beca’s rebuttal lies on the tip of her tongue, out of reflex. She swallows it back, because Chloe is giving her those puppy eyes she’s mastered so well, and Beca knows damn well she can’t resist. Besides, she could definitely use a drink. Or ten.

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

That’s how they find themselves in an overly too loud, busy club a handful of hours later. Beca is definitely tipsy, and Chloe has just ordered shots, so she knows she’s likely to finish the night with her head in the toilet. But she hasn’t laughed like that in a while, and it feels amazing to be… Beca and Chloe again.

It’s ruined just after Beca downs her first shot, when Army Boy shows up.

“Hi!” Chloe exclaims, springing up from her stool to hug him.

Beca grits her teeth so hard that she’s half-concerned they might break, her eyes throwing daggers at Chicago’s head.

“Hey Beca,” he says, apparently oblivious as he slides on the vacant stool.

Beca simply tilts her chin towards him, along with a tight-lipped smile. As Chicago orders his drink with the waitress, Beca shrugs her jacket on. “I’m gonna go,” she announces over the music, not caring one bit that it’s obvious as to why.

She doesn’t wait for a reply, letting her legs carry her towards the exit as quickly as possible as tears burn her eyes. She bumps into someone in her haste and mumbles a disoriented sorry, sucking in a much needed breath as soon as she steps outside of the club.

The music gradually fades away as she starts down the sidewalk, tugging her jacket tighter around her frame when a chill rolls down her spine. She’s not even sure in which direction she’s going, set on hailing the first cab she finds.

“What the hell is your problem??”

Beca freezes at the familiar voice, swallowing around the forming lump in her throat before she turns around. She barely meets Chloe’s eyes. “I’m just tired, Chlo.”

“Bullshit,” Chloe spits out, a scoff flying past her lips as she shakes her head. Her typically warm eyes are bone-chilling icy. “You left the second he got here.”

Beca sighs heavily, her hands forming fists by her sides in an attempt to tame her growing irritation. “Yeah well, maybe I didn’t feel like being the third wheel. I thought it was just going to be you and I, tonight. But you two have been attached to the hip and all you can talk about is Chicago this, Chicago that.”

“Well I’m sorry if I enjoy his company,” Chloe fires back. “You know, the least you could do is be happy for me.”

“Oh great, the guilty card,” Beca says, eyes rolling skyward. She sucks in a sharp breath. “I can’t be happy for you, Chlo.”

Chloe staggers back as though Beca’s words slapped her in the face. “What?”

“I said, I can’t be happy for you,” Beca repeats, her tone rising along with her frustration.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Chloe asks, a mixture of anger, hurt and confusion surfacing in her features. “Why can’t you be happy for me? That’s what best friends are supposed to do, you know. I mean, are you even still my best friend? Because you haven’t been acting like one those past--”

“Because I’m in love with you, dumbass!” Beca finally blurts, a lot louder than necessary. Her declaration catches the attention of a few bypassers, but Beca is too focused on Chloe to care.

She watches as realization dawns in Chloe’s eyes, and all she can hear is her heart beating madly in her ears. She swallows, glancing down at the crack in the sidewalk. “And I’m the biggest idiot in the world,” she mumbles, roughly wiping at her cheeks when she feels a few tears rolling down her skin. “I’ll be out of the apartment by tomorrow.”

Beca is thankful Chloe doesn’t follow her when she turns around and resumes her journey home. She ends up walking all the way, too embarrassed to break down in a cab like in those stupid rom-coms. She texts Amy when she makes it back to ask if she can crash at her fancy apartment, fishing out her suitcase as soon as her friend agrees. Tears keep leaking out, and Beca wipes them away with her sleeve before she starts shoving her clothes into the suitcase, trying to ignore the way her heart aches.

A key slides into the lock just as she’s done packing. Beca straightens and hastily wipes her cheeks dry, even though she knows her bloodshot eyes will betray her.

“You’re really leaving,” Chloe murmurs, her voice barely audible.

Beca sniffles as she heaves her suitcase off the bed and sets it down. “Yep.”

“Why?”

Beca bites back a humorless laugh. “I don’t know, maybe because I’m not a masochist?” She deadpans. “Seeing you and Chicago together isn’t exactly fun.”

“We broke up.”

Beca’s breathing halts as she registers the words. Her jaw slacks. “What?”

Chloe clears her throat a little, taking a step closer. She’s fiddling with her keys, something she does when she gets shy, nervous or nervous, or excited. “Well, I broke up with him.”

“You did?” Beca croaks out.

Chloe nods, the corners of her lips upturning in a sheepish smile. “Because it’s always been you, dumbass.”

Beca’s lungs flood with oxygen, and her shoulders slump, releasing the tension at once. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Chloe echoes, raising an eyebrow as she takes another step.

Beca closes her eyes briefly, her head tilting as she frowns. “Sorry, I think my brain needs to be re-booted. Could you um, could you say that again?”

Chloe chuckles, finally closing the remaining distance between them. She cups Beca’s cheek and joins their lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Beca’s knees quake as a bunch of butterflies release in her belly, and she can’t quite believe this is really happening.

She licks her tingling lips when Chloe pulls away, feeling a bit dizzy. “Um, I’m not sure I quite got that one, either. Care for an encore?”

The first of many, many ones.

#bechloe #bechloe week #pitch perfect #beca mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe fic

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thepartyresponsible · 5 years

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here’s a short fic about jason todd encountering an undercaffeinated clint barton on a rooftop in new york. it’s exactly as romantic as it sounds.

Jason’s not even supposed to be in New York. He hates this town. It’s overcrowded with heroes, which means it’s overcrowded with bullshit and bad blood, and he can’t go two blocks without running face-first into someone else’s fuck-ups.

“I swear to God, Grayson,” he says, right into the comm, because he’s sick of this shit, and this isn’t his town, and, if he makes a mess here, it’ll get one-upped by morning. “I think the Punisher just took a potshot at me.”

“Doubt it,” Grayson says, sounding insultingly unconcerned. “Do you still have a face?”

“So far,” Jason says, “but I’m about five more minutes away from blowing this mask up myself.”

“Grumpy,” Grayson observes. He doesn’t seem to appreciate the favor Jason’s doing, meeting him all the way up here. Possibly because he’s been caught in some kind of ballerina boxing match with Daredevil for something like a quarter of an hour.

Jason would be less pissed about that if he didn’t have the sneaking suspicion Dick was planning to ask the Devil on a date afterwards.

“Next time we gotta swap bullshit alien tech,” Jason says, “we’re doing it in Jersey, as God intended. If I get murdered by an Avengers groupie, I’m gonna haunt your entire family for the next millennium.”

Dick hums back thoughtfully. “Yeah, I don’t think they call themselves groupies. I think they mostly call themselves SHIELD agents.”

“All I’m saying,” Jason says, as he shifts his weight on the new rooftop, scans the skyline for whoever shot at him a minute ago, “is nobody wears that much spandex unless they’re looking to get laid. They can call themselves a government agency if they want to, but if you put a zipper on the front of your fucking tactical jumpsuit--”

“Hey.”

The voice is soft, kinda scratchy, and it is most definitely not Grayson. When Jason turns, guns out, he finds himself confronted by a sleepy-eyed blonde in a t-shirt and purple boxers, with a cup of coffee in his hand and a case of bedhead that would shame Sleepy Beauty.

“Hey, man,” the guy continues, “are they shooting at you? Can you maybe get them to stop? It‘s pretty late, you know? It’s a school night. You really gotta do this now?”

Jason stares. “Oh, sorry, princess,” he says, at a loss. “I’ll just ask real nice for a raincheck and see how they take it, okay?”

“Cool,” the blonde says, like he’s agreeing to the terms. He rubs at his face and yawns. There’s a coffee stain down the front of his white t-shirt and a target drawn in shades of purple centered right over his heart.

Jason, because he’s feeling obliging, turns in the direction of shooter. “Hey, asshole,” he yells, “get fucked.”

He ducks down behind the brick wall, waits for the answering gunshot, and then looks up at the man, who hasn’t even blinked toward cover.

“Yeah,” Jason says, when the echoes from the gunfire have faded, “they said no.”

“Well, you didn’t ask right,” the blonde tells him. “Gotta use your manners.”

He shuffles over, barefoot on a New York City rooftop like someone who thinks lockjaw’s going to do him any favor on the dating scene, and stares blearily out into the city.

“Hey, yeah, excuse me,” he calls out, “could we do this during business hours, please? I got tenants with kids in the building.”

Jason leans over, hooks a hand around the guy’s ankle, and tugs him to the ground. The blonde folds neatly, scrambling for his coffee and somehow managing not to spill a single drop. He throws Jason an affronted look and then rolls his eyes as another gunshot rings out, bullet embedding itself in the roof access door.

“Aw, bullets,” he says, sounding persecuted. “I hate patching bullet holes.”

“You almost got a bullet hole in your face,” Jason tells him.

He hates this city. At least in Gotham people have the good sense to run from snipers.

“Got enough holes in my face,” the man says. He pats Jason consolingly on the knee. “I’ll handle this. Hold my coffee.”

He passes the cup to Jason, who takes it on instinct. “What the fuck,” Jason says. “Wil you stay down? Christ’s sake, I’ll just---”

Jason shuts himself up as the blonde picks a rock off the rooftop, tests its weight for a second, and then stands up, hurling the rock into the darkness.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jason says, incredulous.

Half a second later, there’s a scream from the roof across from them, and then a long, wailing cry that cuts off with the heavy thud of a body hitting pavement.

“Shoulda stuck to school hours,” the blonde says, alarmingly prosaic.

Jason scrambles to his feet. He stares down at the dead sniper on the sidewalk, looks up at the building across from them, and then down at the line of rocks around the perimeter of the roof. Now that he’s looking, it seems a weird place for a bunch of surprisingly large rocks to be.

“Did you fucking—did you put those there for home defense?”

The blonde shrugs. He takes his coffee out of Jason’s hands and swigs it back with the most enthusiasm Jason’s seen out of him so far. “Well, sometimes I forget my bow.”

Jason pauses. Blinks. Looks the blonde up and down, lingering over the way his shoulders fill out that t-shirt and the strong, defined muscles of his forearms.

“Holy shit,” Jason says, “are you Hawkeye?”

The blonde salutes him with his coffee cup. Coffee splashes over the brim of the mug and splatters all across his shirt. He sighs, heavily.

“Hawkeye,” Jason repeats, dubiously. “World’s Greatest Marksman? SHIELD agent? Avenger?”

“Yep,” Hawkeye says, brushing at the coffee stain like it’s dirt he can knock off. “You’re one of those Gotham guys?”

Jason stares at him. “Oh, nah,” he says, “I’m Power Girl.”

Hawkeye’s eyes go – incredibly and apparently unironically – right to Jason’s chest. He squints, seems to weigh it out in his head. “You don’t…” he says, slowly. “You don’t look like Power Girl.”

“Really,” Jason says. “Really? What gave me away?”

Hawkeye finishes off his coffee and then smiles at him, bright and smug and oddly sweet for a man who just dropped another guy off a ten-story building. “Power Girl’s blonde.”

“I could be blonde,” Jason says. “Under the helmet. How the hell would you know?”

“Red Helmet,” Hawkeye says, snapping his fingers. “That’s who you are.”

“Red Hood,” Jason corrects. He’d be offended, but, frankly, this guy didn’t even remember shoes. Or pants.

“Red Helmet would make more sense,” Hawkeye mumbles, mouth half-hidden behind his coffee mug.

Jason sighs. “Hey, Nightwing,” he says, activating the comm again. “Are you done playing grabass with Daredevil? Can we get this shit moving already? I’ve got places to be.”

“Oh, is that the blue guy?” Hawkeye asks, shuffling closer to him. He squints curiously into the street. “Don’t interrupt them. Devil’s been talking about him for weeks.”

“It is not—will you—I’m busy here,” Jason says, taking a pointed step away. “Nightwing,” he repeats, “I swear to God.”

“Busy,” Grayson says. He sounds a little breathless.

For a single, beautiful second, Jason’s actually worried about him, and then he hears what is almost definitely the Man Without Fear murmuring something that Jason never in his life needed to hear another person say to Dick Grayson.

“Oh my God,” Jason says. “Fuck’s sake, Nightwing, turn your Goddamn comm off.”

“You called me,” Nightwing says, and Jason yanks the comm out of his ear before he gets scandalized any further.

“Tried to warn you,” Hawkeye says, sounding smug again. He goes to take another drink of coffee, realizes all over again that he’s out, and then stares mournfully into his empty cup. “Oh,” he says, sounding personally betrayed.

“You try to help people,” Jason says. “You try to do the Golden Boy a favor. You come to this bullshit city, with all these bullshit people, and he leaves you on a roof so he can fuck around with a man who does Catholic church cosplay.”

Hawkeye gives him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Aw, c’mon,” he says. “The Devil’s okay. Bluebird could do much worse.”

“He’s not—Jesus Christ, Gotham is a day trip away, asshole, and Bludhaven’s even closer. The names aren’t hard. I’m Red Hood, and he’s Nightwing.”

Hawkeye shrugs with exactly the kind of agreeable unconcern that suggests he’s really not going to bother remembering. “I’m better with faces.”

“I find the helmet to be pretty fucking memorable,” Jason says.

Hawkeye gives him a considering look, eyes dragging from his helmet to his boots and then back up. “Too bad,” he says. “I was gonna invite you down for coffee, but you probably can’t drink it with the helmet on.”

Jason hesitates. God knows how long he’s going to be waiting around on this rooftop for Dick Grayson to remember he’s supposed to meet Jason and finish their latest round of Kryptonian tech swap. Coffee would be a welcome distraction.

Those forearms would be a welcome distraction.

Jason glances down at the sidewalk. There’s a bit of a ruckus now, probably because some poor bastard out for a late-night walk damn near tripped over the corpse. It’d probably be wise to get out of sight before the cops show up to do whatever song and dance they deem necessary in this neighborhood.

Anyway, he always wears a domino under the helmet.

He reaches up, goes through the whole complicated maneuver of removing the helmet, and, when he drops it into his hands, Hawkeye honest-to-God whistles at him and then flushes immediately pink.

“Oh shit,” he says, clutching his coffee cup to his chest. “I thought that was just gonna be in my head. Sorry. It’s real late, you know?”

Jason stares at him. Takes in the whole sleepy sight of him, from the blush on his cheeks to the soft spikey mess of his hair to the coffee-stained t-shirt and the bare skin of his feet. “And you’re Hawkeye,” he says, just to be absolutely certain. “SHIELD agent, super spy, best sniper in the world.”

“Yeah, man,” Hawkeye confirms. He reaches up to scrub at the back of his head, and it does absolutely nothing for his hair but the flex of his arms does something for Jason. “I just—normally people don’t speak to me until after I’ve had more than one cup of coffee.”

Jason shakes his head, not quite able to make the call between being charmed and being appalled. Maybe this city has its redeeming qualities after all.

“Okay,” he says. “C’mon, Hawkeye. Let’s get you more coffee.”

#writing #fic

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elsb-hrngtons · 4 years

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We can help each other, You and me- Chapter 2

Chapter 1

links to Ao3 in the notes.

So here Steve was. Sentenced to a summer spent slinging ice-cream in an overcrowded mall, with the one coworker who was just as miserable as he is. At first he wasn’t sure he and Robin would click, but there’s something about the camaraderie of customer service jobs that just makes room for unexpected friendships and unbreakable bonds.

Steve’s back in the dating game or at least trying to be, he’s striking out almost every time when he lays on the charm at the cash register. He wonders to himself when girls in Hawkins got so stuck up, or maybe Nancy messed him up so good his game’s off. Where he used to be suave and cool, he’s now a flustered and bumbling mess and that’s not a good look on anyone, no matter how great their hair is.

Or maybe it’s the setting, discount sailor costumes and nautical puns does not create an ideal environment for a budding romance.

Which is why after some serious begging and pleading and perhaps the promise of free carpools for life he’s managed to drag Robin to the first party he’s attended in well over 6 months.

It was one of those summer nights where the chill isn’t quite biting, but the warmth isn’t stifling either, perfect for a bonfire by Lovers Lake. He and Robin are perched on a log near the fire in their own little bubble, easily preferring each other’s company over the screeching teenagers also in attendance.

They’ve been passing a joint back and forth, drinking a few beers and shooting the shit. Steve’s having a really good time, and while he had bought Robin here with the slightest intention of maybe charming the pants off her, she doesn’t seem to be getting the memo and well oddly Steve doesn’t even really seem to mind that.

Objectively Robin is really pretty, and Steve does enjoy her company, she’s funny, sarcastic and gives him a hard enough time that she’s always running circles around him. On paper she’s perfect, but ultimately the sad truth is he doesn’t feel the spark. That crackle of electricity that usually comes when sexual tensions are high and he knows he really wants someone and they want him in return.

So in the nature of goodwill Steve changes tactics, he no longer wants to get in her pants, he’s not really sure he wanted to in the first place, and he settles for a night of friendly banter, in the interest of deepening their friendship, desperately wanting to make a connection with someone in his own peer group.

Steve suggests a game of two truths and a lie, and Robin happily agrees.

The rules are simple, each person takes it in turn to tell truths and one lie about themselves and the other has to guess the lie, if the person guessing gets it right the person telling has to take a drink, but if they get it wrong the person telling has to drink.

“Okay , okay, are you ready?” Steve asks all giggly and loose from the weed and still trying to think of what he’s gonna say.

“Jesus. Yes Steve. i’m ready”

“Okay… so um… I was.. I was born in Chicago!” Steve exclaims finally getting his brain to work.

“Right.”

“I have an extensive collection of rubber ducks”

“What!?” Robin snorts

“And…. I've never been to New York!” Steve’s excited he’s sure he’s thrown Robin off the scent.

“Okay… let me think about this.” Robin drawls placing her fingers on her chin in a gesture of thoughtfulness “right so i’m pretty sure you’ve mentioned going to New York before, but now a drink on the line i’m doubting my perfect memory.” she continues

“Aww what's the matter Buckley, you scared to be wrong?” Steve teases

“Not at all, i just want to be logical about my answer.. Now the rubber duck thing is so ridiculous that it either has to be true, or you’ve literally just pulled that out your ass.” she ponders out loud.

“Times running out Buckly”

“Shut up.” Robin snaps “Right so the lie is either you were born in Chicago or your unhealthy obsession with rubber ducks”

“Hey! It's not unhealthy!” Steve protests.

“AHA!” Robin looks positively gleeful, eyes creasing at the corners as she grins manically having caught Steve out.

“Shit.” Steve mutters under his breath.

“Okay so your lie is you were born in Chicago” She practically shouts vibrating with excitement at having won the first round. Steve just takes a swig of his beer maintaining eye contact the entire time. “Holy shit! I can’t believe you collect rubber ducks, that's far too trippy man!”

“Shut up. It's your turn anyway” Steve’s only a little sour that Robin guessed the truth and that he stupidly revealed his most embarrassing secret in the first round.

“Okay touchy.. Err okay then I speak 4 languages”

“Okay”

“I’ve only ever kissed one person”

“No way! That can’t be true”

“I’m not finished.. And i play guitar” Robin finishes a satisfied smirk creeping on her features as she watches Steve mull over his answer in all of two seconds.

“Well that’s a no brainer. You have to have kissed more than one person!” he exclaims triumphantly

“Drink up Harrington” Robin’s smug. Steve hates it when Robins smug. His features fall from triumphant exuberance to disappointed frown immediately, shoulders sagging with it.

“Wait so what was the lie?” Steve asks curiosity piqued

“That i play guitar”

“But you’re in band!” he all but yells

“Yeah dingus and i play clarinet not the guitar” if Robin rolls her eyes any harder, Steve’s sure they’d get stuck in the back of her head

“You tricked me!” Steve’s pouting now.

“What, no I didn't” Robin’s chuckling, clearly amused by Steve’s suffering. Steve defeatedly takes a drink.

“Wait, so you’ve only ever kissed one person?” he asks, genuinely curious, intrigued by the idea that someone like Robin who to him appears so incredibly comfortable in her own skin hasn’t done anything more than a kiss.

“Yep. Brad Connors, 7th grade,” she nods gaze intently fixated on the fire, she’s fiddling with her ear piercing, clearly nervous about the conversation.

“Brad Connors!? That meat head?”

“Don’t judge” she glares at him, before turning her stare back to the fire again. Steve holds up his hands in surrender

“I’m not! I’m not!” Robin’s shoulders are hunched up to her ears as she absentmindedly picks at the label on her beer bottle, she’s obviously uncomfortable. Steve thinks maybe he should change the subject, he doesn’t like seeing Robin like this, so closed off and miserable. “ Okay so my turn!” he cheerily exclaims, hoping to snap Robin outta her funk. She offers him a small tight smile, until he nudges her knee with his own beer bottle and tries to coax her to face him, she obliges.

“Right so here goes” He pauses giving it a thought at something he can reveal about himself that might encourage Robin out of her sudden melancholy.

“Okay one, I'm afraid of chickens, two I used to have an imaginary friend called Fred, three I hate peanut butter” Steve lists each one off counting on his fingers as he goes. He looks at Robin expectantly but she’s still shut down, trapped in head thinking about god knows what, Steve feels guilty, he really only wants Robin to have a good time to have some fun and let loose for a change, but the last round of there game has upset her, Steve wants to get to the bottom of it, but knows logically now's not the right time, so he changes strategy.

“How about we get outta here?” He asks, placing his hand on her shoulder to try and rouse her from her day dream. “I got a big empty house and some weed?” he adds, attempting to sweeten the deal. Robin appears to emerge from her thoughts and grins back at Steve a glint in her eye.

“That Dingus, may just be the best idea you’ve had all night”

###

Working a minimum wage job is trying at the best of times. Working a minimum wage job with Steve Harrington as your coworker ? Well that bought a whole new set of trials and tribulations.

She was less than thrilled on her first day at scoops to discover that not only Steve was her co-worker, but for some unimaginable reason all her shifts coincided with his, because their manager and corporate thought it a good idea to keep their staff in pairs, and stick to a fairly rigid shift pattern. So Robin is paired with Steve, and Robin is convinced the universe is laughing at her. If there is a god, she’s certain the bastard hates her.

Robin’s frustrated, because she started the summer fully prepared to hate Steve Harrington and everything he stood for, ready to make his life difficult like he had whether intentionally or unintentionally made hers in high school. The problem is, and the cause of Robin’s frustration is that she doesn’t hate Steve, not one bit. He’s oddly endearing, and when he isn’t being a bitchy little brat she finds he’s actually really nice, down right friendly even. Besides she doesn’t need to make his life hell, he’s doing just fine, making his own life difficult all by himself.

Well by himself, and with the help of Tommy H and Billy Hargrove.

It’s mid June the first time the pair come into Scoops, the mall’s just opened and Robin and Steve are still finding their feet with each other, testing the boundaries of their work relationship. The air outside is suffocatingly hot, with no cool breeze to offer any kind of relief, thick with humidity as well promising a coming storm in the days to come, so the mall is fit to burst with sticky patrons looking to take full advantage of the mall’s shiny new and practically arctic AC.

The morning rush blurs into the afternoon rush, a constant stream of customers irritated by the heat, looking for some temporary relief in overpriced and overrated ice cream.

Robin is manning the cash register, while Steve, who had lost a coin toss, has the unfortunate job of cleaning up a kid’s sticky puke from one of the booths.

Steve is far too consumed in scrubbing with vigor, where the sugary mess has had chance to dry into a congealed syrupy blob, bitching loudly and passionately, listing the merits of refusing service in future to children already too hyped up on sugar in the interest of protecting the gaudy nautical themed interior design, in case they too decide to paint the booth with their regurgitated sundae, when the two boys strut in.

They immediately zero in on Steve, his back turned, to the entrance, bent over the garish red seat, indecent company issue shorts riding up the backs of his thighs, and not at all paying attention to the footfall of their latest customers. For the briefest of moments Robin could swear she sees Hargrove check out Steve’s ass, with the way his head tilts and lips part making way for his tongue to peep through, but that thought is dismissed as quickly as it appears when she has to remind herself that other people aren’t like her.

“Sup Stevie boy. Fancy seeing you here.” Tommy goads while obnoxiously clapping Steve on the back, the freckled terror grinning wolfishly, leaning forward so his face is essentially brushing against Steve’s cheek. Robin watches as Steve visibly tenses, batting his hand outward to swat Tommy away and spinning around to face his aggressors.

“Nice outfit pretty boy” Hargove leers, smug look on his face as he takes the entire picture in of Hawkins fallen king, fully decked out in a ridiculous discount sailor costume, stupid hat and all,

A deep blush creeps up Steve’s neck and across his cheeks, his jaw set as he stands a little straighter to his full height in a vain attempt to scramble for some semblance of dominance.

“Fuck do you want?” Steve spits at the two boys, brushing past them and shoulder checking Billy as he goes.

“I’m serious Harrington! It's a good look!” Hargrove continues, tone still horrendously mocking as he follows Steve a little too closely back to the counter hovering at his backside without physically touching, Tommy not far behind. “Really floats my boat” he grins all teeth and put on charm, Tommy snickers behind him.

It takes all of Robin’s self restraint to suppress her eye roll and to bite her tongue, because as much as she takes pity on Steve, this shit is just far too entertaining to interrupt.

Steve, now fully done with this interaction finally snaps.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he’s practically foaming at the mouth, and Robin tenses steeling herself in case this takes a violent turn, knowing full well the messy history between the two.

Billy to his credit throws up his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, eyes wide veining innocence.

“Woah woah, i’ve not got a problem, how about you Hagan? You gotta problem?” he makes a show of looking over his shoulder at the speckled prick behind him.

“Nope no problem” Tommy grins as he comes up along Billy’s flank as close as he can be, flinging his arm around the taller boy’s shoulder. Billy smirks, all devilish as he opens his arms out gesturing to the room.

“See Harrington, no problem here, just a couple of well meaning customers in the market for some ice-cream”

Steve is now behind the counter tense and vibrating with pure rage looking seconds away from putting his fist through Hargrove’s skull if his knuckle white grip on the edge of the counter is anything to go by. Billy ever the peacock places both palms flat on the counter in front of him, leans closer into Steve’s space, smug smirk still firmly in place and intensely blue eyes boring into Steve’s chocolatey brown ones, alight with a fiery intensity in what Robin can only assume is a challenge, a challenge for what exactly she isn’t sure just yet, but if she doesn’t intervene soon, she’s sure it will be more than puke that needs to be cleaned from the booths.

“What can I get for you then?” Robin finally speaks up, hoping to break the mounting tension that’s beginning to suck all oxygen out of the room, hoping she and Steve might be able to go back to business as normal once the nightmare twins are appeased.

Billy not taking his eyes off Steve for a second intent on proving a point, just chuckles.

“No offence Buckley, but I was really hoping Pretty boy here might give me his recommendation.”

“You wanna know what I recommend?” Steve scoffs, eye roll and all.

“Yeah we really do” Tommy pipes up from beside Billy.

“Hmm well i recommend…” Steve makes a show of it, stroking his chin as if he were really putting some thought into it “Oh i know!” He exclaims with faux excitment “Fuck Off” his face shifts to something a little more serious, a little more deadly while he spits the last two words out with such venom even Robin winces.

Billy clutches his chest in a show of mock heartbreak, hurt evident on his face, before it morphs into a snarl, something more sinister and a lot more dangerous.

“You’re breaking my heart Harrington, i just wanted to know what your favourite ice cream flavour was” Billy’s back to grinning like the cheshire cat, and Tommy hasn’t moved at all during the interaction, the boy has no originality and doesn’t really even have much to say other than the odd jab here or there reaffirming what Billy has already said.

Robin already at the end of her rope decides now is the time to save Steve from his torment, she pushes in front of him and takes his place smacking her palms flat upon the counter top, leaning forward and starring Billy down.

“Sorry boys, hate to disappoint, but Dingus here is going on his break, so if you want anything, I'm afraid it will be little ol’ me who will be your server” Robin sing-songs in her best customer service voice and forces a smile.

Although she can’t see Steve, Robin can tell he’s relieved as he wanders into the back room, she doubles down on her stare contest with Hargrove and narrows her eyes to make her point. You’ll have to go through me to get to him.

“So boys.. what will it be?”

Both Tommy and Billy look visibly crestfallen, no longer peacocking for the sake of Steve, no longer needing to put on a show, like carnival balloons, it's like they’ve physically deflated and are no longer interested in the prospects of ice cream. They each huff out a breath and turn to leave the shop, Tommy’s head hung low as Billy places a friendly hand on his back to guide him out. If Robin didn’t know any better she’d say it seems as if Billy is comforting Tommy.

“Huh. weird.” she says quietly to herself before declaring to Steve the coast was clear.

###

Steve’s been contemplating. Since that first interaction with Billy and Tommy something has shifted and he can’t quite put his finger on it. They’ve made a habit of coming into scoops just to annoy him. At least he thinks it's just to annoy him, Robin seems convinced it's something else entirely, something Steve isn’t too keen to dwell on. But dwell on it he does.

The revelation came about one drunken night, where he and Robin had decided to raid his parents liquor cabinet while listening to some of his Mom’s old records. Robin had bravely admitted to Steve that she was more drwan to the fairer sex than to men, after Steve spent the night prodding about his earlier discovery that she had only ever kissed one person. Steve felt like a grade an asshole having pushed Robin into a confession and outing herself, when she probably wasn’t ready. But she clearly trusts Steve and well Steve thought it was only fair he returned the favour in kind.

He relays the events of that fateful night where he and Tommy had got each other off, the night in which neither one of them had ever spoken about before, and how it had made him feel more alive than anything ever had before. How he occasionally still thinks about that night, in the quiet of his bedroom and wonders if he’s broken.

Robin, ever the kind and wise woman she is, reassures Steve that he’s not broken, he’s not wrong and it’s okay if he’s attracted to men.

“But I still like girls, I think?” he says.

“That’s okay too” she says softly, wrapping one arm around his waist and giving him a half hug.

He admits to Robin how much he misses Tommy, how he lays awake some nights wondering what would happen if they had remained friends, how he wishes he hadn’t burnt all his bridges quite so abruptly, and that he could go back and make amends. He doesn’t regret telling Tommy and Carol off, it needed to be done, but he does regret not trying a little harder to keep them in his life.

He also admits how since Billy Hargrove blew into town he’s found himself with a mixture of conflicting feelings. How he thinks the guy is an asshole put on this planet for the sole purpose of making his life a misery, antagonising him at every given opportunity, yet even then Steve doesn’t hate it, not one bit, he actually kind of craves it, is exhilarated by it and he’s not even sure why.

Robin listens , nodding along to ensure Steve’s aware she’s paying attention, only interjecting when Steve's alcohol muddled brain slips up on words and phrases. Once Steve feels he has gotten it all of his chest, he feels lighter, like the world has finally been lifted off his shoulders. Robin just smiles knowingly at him, claps him on the shoulder while taking a swig from the bottle of whisky in her hand and passing it back to Steve.

“Oh dingus, you’ve got it bad my friend.”

Steve downs the rest of the bottle in one.

###

Billy is relatively content with his current arrangement with Tommy. Not only is it an arrangement of pure convenience, he’s discovered he’s become actually quite fond of the freckled shit. He’s not sure when it had turned from the casual hook-up with the intent to mutually distract from the Steve shaped elephant in the room, into something a little more emotionally charged, but it had and so it was.

They were already ‘friends’ or at least civil if anything, but now they seem comfortable with each other in a way that Billy hasn’t ever experienced before, and Billy dares to say it, he actually really likes Tommy, like really likes Tommy.

Even beyond the sex beyond all the boistrous banter between the two, just basking in the other boy’s presense makes Billy feel safe and wanted, and he hopes beyond all hope the feeling is reciprocated. He hates to admit it, but Tommy has broken down some of Billy’s carefully constructed walls, and he wants to be mad, he wants to shut down, but the floodgates have opened and he thinks he might actually trust Tommy a little more than he had originally anticipated.

Billy didn’t get the memo when it first happened, and it hit him like a tonne of bricks.

They’re in Tommy’s basement again, it has somehow become their unofficial hangout of the summer. Billy’s grateful because it gives him yet another reason to avoid the Hargrove household and more importantly his dad. They’re just hanging out smoking some weed before they plan to head to yet another lame party the Hawkins High Alumni insist on throwing.

For now though they lay about in the hazy cloud of smoke and heat, lazily making out, Tommy’s hand has found its way into Billy’s curls and Billy’s hands are at Tommy’s hips, admiring the softness of them and kneading his hands in his doughy flesh. Billy’s shocked to find himself really turned on by Tommy’s plumper figure He’s not fat not by any stretch of the imagination no. He’s just not as lean as Billy usually goes for, or as cut as Billy is himself. But Billy just adores Tommy’s soft belly, loves the feel of his flesh under his hands, salvates at the idea of kissing every inch of that gorgeous freckled skin he's grown so familiar with over the last few weeks.

Tommy moans into Billy’s mouth, is all sloppy in his ministrations, and hungry for whatever Billy will give, and in this moment Billy’s will to give almost everything to this boy. This boy who was only meant to serve as a distraction, but has become so much more.

Things start to get more heated as Tommy begins to rut against Billy’s leg, erection lightly brushing against his thigh, chasing a friction through fabric, Billy returns in kind by thrusting up and brushing his own against Tommy’s thigh. Its desperate and needy, they way they rub up against one another, chasing their orgasms, but it occurs to Billy that he wants more than just cream his pants right now, while dry humping Tommy like an over eager puppy, he wants to claim Tommy before they go to this party, ruin him for everyone else, not that anyone needs to know about their escapades, but he’ll know, and Tommy will and that's enough, enough that he’s fucked Tommy so thoroughly that he has no need to go looking elsewhere for affection. That’s when Billy first realises that maybe he’s in this for more than just the sex, he’s always been a possesive guy, doesn’t like to share, doesn’t like others touching his things and he guesses Tommy falls into that catagory, although how deep Billy is, he’s yet to determin. All he knows is the very thought of Tommy with literally anyone else makes his heart burn with a jealousy he never expected, makes the pit of his stomach twist and contort with anxiety that maybe Tommy might want anyone else other than him. The only person Billy might consider allowing touching his boy, would be Harrington, and even then the thought hurts, because what if after that neither of them want him and he’s left in the dust?

Billy shakes those thoughts away, they’re not helpful, not right now anyway, he has a boy to satisfy, and Billy is determined not to stop until the other boy is screaming his name in ecstasy. Billy’s in control, he grabs Tommy by the waist and uses his combined strength and body weight to flip the other boy onto his back, crowding above him. Tommy lets out a squeal of surprise at the sudden change in position, but quickly melts into the couch as Billy begins kissing and suckling at his jaw and throat, grazing lightly with his teeth, making sure not to neglect his earlobe, bullying gently with his teeth, before he whispers low and graveryly into Tommy’s ear.

“Pants off baby”

Tommy lets out a breathy moan and wastes no time to obey awkwardly trying to shimmy out of his shorts, getting them caught bunched around his knees and huffing out a frustrated sigh. Billy takes pity on him and yanks them off the rest of the way and begins to tug at the other boy’s t-shirt up and over his head. He takes a minute to admire the squirming boy laid bare in front of him, smattering of freckles covering nearly every inch of his body, pretty cock hard and resting against his belly, shiny and pink and dripping pre. Billy’s eyes rake over his body and up to his face, his dark eyes filled with want and adoration, framed adorably by lovely thick long lashes, and full pink lips that haven’t even escaped the decoration of freckles that Billy has come to appreciate so much.

It's all too much and he can’t help himself, he smashes their lips together in a harsh and passionate kiss, before returning to his ministrations of Tommy’s jaw and throat, he slowly but strategically moves lower down, kissing and nipping at his collarbone, pecs before placing a small chaste kiss upon Tommy’s left nipple and then his right. He dares to look up at the other boy and has his breath stolen, Tommy is watching him intently, eyes half lidded and mouth ever so slightly parted, lips swollen and red from bruising kisses. Billy breaks into a wolfish grin, throwing Tommy a wink before taking Tommy’s left nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue around the little nub with practiced delicacy, suckling slightly.

Tommy gasps as his back arches in pleasure, Billy uses his large strong hands to pin the other boy to the couch, preventing him from moving. Tommy whines as Billy removes his lips from his nipple with a pop and moves over to give the other attention, then he’s moving further down again, smattering kisses all over his torso, counting each rib with his lips as he travels south, nuzzling at Tommy’s happy trail, before sinking his teeth into the other boy’s hip, and then the other, purposely avoiding his dick and moving onto his thighs.

Billy sucks bruises into Tommy’s inner thighs just below the crease of his groin, ghosts his breath along the shaft of Tommy’s aching cock careful not to touch it, deliberately teasing and relishing in the fact that he’s driving the other boy wild. Then with no warning at all, he’s hoisting Tommy’s legs up and over his shoulders, grabbing each cheek with both hands and squeezing, massaging his fleshy ass, dragging it even closer to his face. He inhales deeply, enjoying the musky smell of Tommy, all sweat and desire and all for him, places a quick kiss to each cheek before licking a long and agonizingly slow stripe along Tommy’s crack.

Tommy squirms underneath him, legs kicking out at the sudden intrusion, Billy bites hard into one of his cheeks as a warning earning a yelp from the other boy, then moving his attention to Tommy’s puckered hole. He starts off gentle, little kitten licks only ghosting around his rim, teasing only giving a taste of what's to come, he speeds up slightly using his tongue more firmly as he really gets into it, before long his tongue breaks past that tight ring of muscle and begins to tongue fuck into Tommy, drawing out the most delicious whines and mewling sounds from him. Billy groans, cock straining in his jeans, he wants nothing more than to palm himself, relieve some of that pressure building in his own groin, but for now he concentrates on Tommy, getting his hole nice and loose and slick ready for Billy to take what he needs when the time comes.

He dares to take a glance at the other boy and is delighted to see his eyes screwed shut, face contorted, eyebrows drawn and his back arching again, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his skin with sweat. The perfect picture of desire, all fucked out a desperate, and all Billy’s doing. If Billy’s not careful he’ll bust his load right then and there just at the mere thought of getting Tommy like this. He decides to amp things up a bit, taking a break from worshiping the other boy’s asshole, he slips his index finger into his mouth a sucks, Tommy’s eyes flutter open watching him and then immediately flutter closed, as his head thumps back onto the armrest of the couch, groaning out. Billy carefully circles Tommy’s pucker with his spit lubed finger before slowly sinking in upto the first knuckle, Tommy cries out and tenses around him, relaxing after a moment once he’s adjusted. That’s Billy’s cue to sink in further all the way in, he begins to fuck in and out in a circling motion tring to stretch the muscle as best he can, it doesn’t take long before th muscle around his finger to relax and Billy decides its time to add a second. Rather than removing the first altogether he just spits onto his middle finger rubbing it together with his ring finger to spread it, then glides all the way in next to his first finger with practiced ease. Tommy’s so good for him, taking his fingers so well that Billy decides to reward him by crooking both of them and brushing lightly against that magic spot that has the other boy seeing stars. Tommy keens and cries out, chest heaving heavy with breathlessness as if Billy is punching the air out of his lungs with every thrust of his hand.

Billy scissors his fingers stretching the whole further preparing it for his dick. He’d get frustrated quickly at his own lack of pleasure if the sounds that Tommy was making weren’t travelling south straight to his cock. He was impatient however, and wanted to sink himself in as soon as possible. He wasted no time adding a third finger and that had Tommy howling, Billy was enjoying this, making a mess of his boy and the night was still young, the best yet to come.

Now Tommy’s good a stretched, all lovely and loose, Billy removes his fingers and reaches into his back pocket for the condom and single use sachet of lube he stashed there in the hopes, in the knowledge that he’s be fucking his boy senseless this evening. Billy hastily removes his jeans, silently thanking God that he had the foresight to go commando tonight so he doesn’t have to waste much time removing any underwear. He tears open the wrapper with his teeth and rolls the condom with precision down his shaft, he rips open the lube sachet and squeezes a generous amount into his hand, and the rest directly onto Tommy’s hole. He gives himself a few rough strokes, getting his dick nice and slick. Billy maneuvers Tommy’s body a little lower, shifting his legs to cling around his waist while lining himself up with Tommy’s hole. He considers for a moment to slide all the way home in one fluid motion, to take what he needs there and then, but opts instead to sink in slowly, bit by bit, get Tommy that little but more needy, get him begging, and oh boy does Tommy beg.

He inches in bit by bit, feels the tight ring of muscle stretch and adjusts to his thick heavy cock, Tommy writhing a squirming and begging beneath him.

“Please Billy! Just fuck me already!” he whines, clinging on for dear life, fingers digging into the hard edges of Billy’s biceps. Billy growls out, a low rumble vibrating from his chest, and then he turns soft, cooing and soothing his boy under him.

“Patience baby” He says softly, bringing his hand up to stroke some hair out of Tommy’s face. Tommy seems as surprised as Billy is a small act of affection, not that Billy’s never been soft with Tommy, just that its not usually during sex, usually Billy’s all rough and ready, hot and heavy so theres no room for softness while they fuck. Once the initial surprise passed, Tommy appears to preen under the attention, and Billy feels he can relax a bit knowing he hasn’t overstepped a boundary.

Billy finally bottoms out and just stays there for a moment, relishing in the sensation of Tommy all wet and warm around him, he wants to bury himself in that delicious asshole forever, make himself at home and never expose his cock to the harsh coldness of reality ever again. But Tommy’s getting impatient underneath him, rolling his hips, chasing a friction he can’t quite achieve unless Billy starts thrusting himself, and if Billy’s being honest he’s denied himself and Tommy long enough, it's time to get down to business.

He draws back sliding almost all the way out, leaving just his cockhead burried inside, before slamming home in one fast, rough and hard movement, pushing Tommy further back onto the couch. Tommy wails, clawing at Billy’s shoulders for purchase as Billy begins to thrust and rock his hips at a punishing pace. Billy hooks one of Tommy’s ankles up and over his shoulder, adjusting the angle so he’s hitting at Tommy’s prostate with every thrust.

Billy’s groaning every time he slides home, relishing in the white hot heat of Tommy’s ass, while Tommy gasps begging for breath that his lungs can’t quite get. It isn’t long before Tommy begins to tense, fingers bruising into Billy’s flesh wherever he can grab hold, as if he might float away if he lets go. Tommy always goes silent just before he cums and Billy can tell he’s close now, he gives a few more harsh thrusts sliding in and out, rolling his hips to ensure Tommy’s sweet spot is getting the attention it needs, Tommy screams out Billy’s name followed by a string of curses, as thick white ropes of cum paint over the freckles of his chest, spurting out so violently some hits his face and gathers along his cheek bone, chin and cupids bow. Billy is absolutely enthralled by the sight and that along with the tightening of Tommy’s walls around him has him cresting over the edge too, crying out in pleasure, burying his face in the crook of Tommy’s neck as he cums and cums and cums, so much so that he’s afraid it might never stop. He collapses all his weight on top of Tommy and waits for his breath to even out a little, before pulling out. He ties the condom off in a knot and tosses it in the trash can situated next to the coffee table, then he settles back onto the couch on his back and in Tommy’s arms where he belongs.

Laying back on the couch together basking in their post orgasmic glory, Billy begins to absentmindedly stroke the back of Tommy’s neck, and Tommy in turn has returned to playing with Billy’s hair, they’re both sweaty and out of breath, and still a little high from the weed, at that nice relaxed point where everything feels good and the thought of moving themselves from this spot might kill them.

Billy reaches lazily over to the coffee table with one hand and grabs his pack of cigarettes and lighter, he passes one over to Tommy while placing his own between his lips and lighting it, he takes a deep inhale and moans on the exhale. Tommy seems contemplative as he tokes on his own, his one arm around Billy’s shoulders tightens as he exhales and begins to giggle.

“What's so funny?” Billy asks, shifting slightly so he can better look at the other boy. Tommy giggles some more

“Nothing, nothing, it's nothing” he says leaning over Billy to ash his smoke, Billy’s not convinced it’s nothing and decides to prod some more.

“C’mon Hagan don’t hold out on me, what's got you giggling like a middle-schooler?” Tommy stops giggling, and swallows nervously, a cute little blush creeping across his cheeks.

“Don’t you think it's weird?” he eventually says, shifting uncomfortably, Billy’s interest is piqued.

“Think what's weird?” Billy asks, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out in the tin ashtray that permanently resides next to the couch now. Tommy purposely avoids eye contact and Billy feels a little irritation at that begins to creep in.

“Just that ya know? We only got here coz of Steve” Billy’s definitely irritated now, maybe a little jealous, which he finds ridiculous because it's true, they are only here because of Steve. Billy would never have considered Tommy had it not been for their mutual pining for the former king, but now they’re here Billy feels the slight edge of possessiveness of Tommy, his Tommy, who he’s never thought in a million years he’s end up liking beyond being a warm body, but finds he’s falling harder for the boy as each day passes. He also finds it ridiculous because the irony isn’t lost on him, how could he possibly be jealous of Tommy’s feelings for Steve, when Billy’s still battling his own feelings for him too. But Billy’s never been a logical or even a fair person.

Billy sits up, swings his legs round so his back is to Tommy and reaches down for his jeans. He also finds Tommy’s discarded clothes and tosses them to the other boy.

“Right Tommy boy, we’ve got a party to crash” he stands up and hops the rest of the of the way into his pants tucking his shirt into the waistband and heading over to the mirror to straighten up his hair that Tommy’s hands had somehow morphed into a bit of a birds nest. Tommy’s quick to dress himself and closes the distance between them, throwing his hands around Billy’s waist, hugging him from behind and hooking his chin onto Billy’s shoulder.

“Have i said something wrong?” he asks, Billy feels the irritation dissipate slightly, replaced by endearment that Tommy’s self conscious that he’s upset him. Billy heaves a sign and turns around cupping Tommy’s face with both hands and gives him a quick chaste kiss.

“No” he chuckles “no you haven’t said anything wrong” he pushes away from Tommy and heads towards the door “Now let's go, all that free booze won’t drink itself!”

###

The party is in full swing by the time the two of them arrive at some random girls house in the middle of Loch Nora. The host of the party’s parents are clearly out of town for the weekend, giving ample opportunity for their spoiled offspring to throw a mediocre at best kegger. The late June heat is still clinging to the night air and Billy has opted for his signature button up only buttoned up to his navel and a pair of snugly fit jeans. It's a tried and tested look and it works for him so why stray too far from it? Tommy however is a little more casual in his clothing, donning a loosely fit t-shirt and some oddly patterned shorts, that could also be mistaken for swimming trunks.

People are gathered around them celebrating their arrival, already a fair few drinks in and Billy thinks to himself that it might be worth a game of catch up for the two of them. He makes a beeline for the kitchen and swipes two beers from the cooler filled with slowly melting ice and hands one to Tommy. He notices Tommy attention is elsewhere, his eyes glazed over and that kicked puppy expression distorting his features, Billy follows his gaze to the far side of the open planned kitchen into the living room where a whole congregation of various teenagers are pressed together, some dancing, some standing around, some splayed out on couches and beanbags. Finally he finds where Tommy is fixated on, or rather who. It's Harrington, in all his glory, beautiful, tall and lithe, chocolatey locks falling softly and framing his sickenly pretty face, talking animatedly to that same blonde from the bonfire at the quarry.

“Steve’s here” Tommy whispers as if he’s afraid the whole room might clue in on their secret just from those words alone. Billy refocuses his gaze on Tommy, before it strays back to Harrington, like his heart has trained him to do, despite everything, no matter how hard he tries, wherever Steve is his eyes follow and he hates it sometimes.

“I can see that,” he states, cracking open his beer and taking a large gulp.

“What do we do?” Tommy asks, he sounds panicked, probably is, Billy can practically hear the other boy's heart beat, even over the god awful music playing over the speakers.

“Absolutely nothing, we came here to have a good time and that’s exactly what we’re gonna do” He stalks towards the crowd of people in the centre of the room, dancing and grinding, throws a wink over his shoulder at Tommy silently daring him to join.

###

Steve’s absolutely panicking right about now. It's not like he didn’t expect Billy or Tommy to be at the party, in fact he knew they’d be here, it was half the reason, okay all of the reason he came here tonight. Upon Robin’s insistence and encouragement to throw caution to the wind and go for it. He was absolutely out of his element, and after about the third sexuality crisis induced panic attack, he decided the best course of action was to be absolutely the furthest away from sober he could possibly manage while still being able to stand up.

That worked as far as getting him to the party was concerned and he was genuinely enjoying himself and Robin’s company, his self proclaimed “fairy gay mother”, there to support him and help him through his “gay awakening”.

But now, faced with the idea of actually approaching the two he felt frozen, with fear, he was also buzzing with anticipation, god willing and Robin was actually right, and let's face Robin’s always right this could be the start of something unimaginably great. Of course there was always the chance that Robin could have read the situation all wrong and he was about to walk into the lion's den without any reasonable way out, he could very possibly end the night with another concussion, and frankly Steve was considering if it was worth the risk.

Thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol currently coursing through his system, his inhibitions have been totally disregarded, they were sober Steve’s problem and the anticipation was far outweighing the anxiety right about now, he was gonna do it. He was gonna go talk to them.

#Keg Boys #Keg Girls #Keg Gang #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Tommy H #Steve Harrington x Billy Hargrove x Tommy H #Smut #My Fic #Fanfic

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 5 years

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Toni//Old Friends, New Love

Request: Can I request a Toni/reader where when she transfers to Riverdale, you stand up for her and the serpents, it turns out you grew up on the southside but moved before high school, maybe she remembers hanging out with you?

The doors to Riverdale High swung open, and you stuck your head further into your locker. Students from the Southside were transferring today and there were rumours going round that they were from the Serpents. A gang you were all too familiar with.

The sound of their boots was the only thing to be heard in the corridor, well apart from the quiet mumblings from around you. You could almost feel the stares of the new students as they walked down the corridor, stopping in front of the desk Veronica had set up. In your opinion, it was the worst thing she could have done. Serpents hated the Northside, and that was the most northsierish thing you had ever seen.

“Friends!” Veronica greeted happily. “On behalf of the students and faculty here at Riverdale High, welcome to your new school.”

While Veronica was talking you decided to sneak a peak at the new students. Jughead was obviously leading them, the usual brooding look on his face, either side of him were two boys that looked annoyed, one of them significantly taller than the other, and the rest of the students to be honest. And then there she was. Toni Topaz. You and Toni had been best friends for a small part of your life. When your mom’s company had been struggling you had to move to the Southside for a short period of time, meaning you lived in the trailer park, a few doors down from her. She looked the same as she did all those years ago, but that may have been because she hadn’t grew much. She was more beautiful now, with long hair that had bits of pink in them, you remembered when you used to braid it, at one of the many sleepovers you would have. However that all ended when your mom’s company started to pick up again and you could afford to move back to the Northside. After that, you never saw her. Being a Northsider again meant you were unwelcome on the Southside, especially if you’d lived there and then moved back.

“To ease this transitions, I’ve set up a registration desk, where you can get your locker assignments, schedules and a list of sports and extracurriculars.” Veronica explained, and every single serpent rolled their eyes at almost the exact same time. Yep, you knew they wouldn’t like this. You may have only spent a brief amount of time with some of them (really only Toni) but you knew what they liked and what they didn’t. “We encourage each and every one of you to drink deeply from the cup that is fair Riverdale.” She added making you snort with laughter. Veronica, Archie, Kevin and the Serpents all looked in your direction and your eyes widened before you quickly averted your attention back to your locker. Hopefully the door was covering your face enough.

“Stand down, Eva Peron!” Cheryl shouted from the top of the stairs and everyone’s attention turned to her. Her, followed quickly by Reggie Mantle and a small army of River Vixens walked down the stairs and your sighed. You looked back towards the Serpents who were all looking at her, annoyed expressions on their faces. Basically, they looked like they were gonna fight somebody at any minute, and they’d only been here for 2 minutes.

“There’s the school spirit I so fondly remember.” Jughead said sarcastically.

“Cheryl, no one invited Fascist Barbie to the party.” Veronica commented. You decided that people were distracted enough for you to stop hiding in your locker so you could watch what was going to happen properly.

“Wrong Veronica.” Cheryl crossed her arms. “No one invited Southside scum to our school.”

I’m sorry what did she say? You thought, raising your eyebrows.

“Listen up, ragamuffins.” She said loudly, the serpents attention moved from Veronica to Cheryl and they were certainly gonna fight someone, but then again, maybe so were you. Toni and the serpents had taught you a few things when you lived at the trailer park, and one of those was how to punch somebody, hard. “I will not allow Riverdale’s above high GPA to suffer because of classrooms overcrowded with underachiever. So please, do us all a favour and find some other school to debase with your hardscrabble ways.”

“Cheryl.” You walked towards her, making her turn her attention to you and raise an eyebrow. Okay, what are you doing? You’re drawing attention to yourself. Why are you continuing to walk towards her? “Please, for the love of everyone here and their will power, shut the fuck up with your nonsense talk. You sound like a 70 year old woman stuck in a teenagers body and it isn’t a good look. You also have the views of a 70 year old woman. Why don’t you go find someone else to piss of with your backwards views because like it or not, Serpents are here to stay. And I for one, think Riverdale High will be better with a bit of diversity around here. They may not be rich like you, but they are far better people, and we all know, the majority of people’s GPA results are only high because they either cheated, or their parents paid off the teachers. Now, which one are you?” You finished, complete silence fell over the corridor, students were staring at you wide-eyed and open mouthed. The Serpents were smirking, looking impressed, and Cheryl looked like she was going to murder you. But by God did it feel good to stand up for them, even if she was going to make your life a living hell. You felt like you owed the Serpents.

“Excuse me?” Cheryl asked. Oh boy. “Who the hell asked you Y/l/n? Why did you decide to crawl out from your little shell? Are you one of them, or are you sleeping with one of them? That would make sense, seeing as though no sane person would ever want to be friends with you let alone date you.”

“Don’t talk to her like that. Just because she disagrees with you.” Toni stood up for you, standing in between you and Cheryl. The Serpents were stood around you, which made you feel slightly at ease.

“Oh shut up Strawberry Shortcake.” Cheryl rolled her eyes.

“Cheryl.” Jughead said in a warning tone.

“What do you want hobo?” She replied and turned her attention away from you and Toni.

“Hey, thanks for sticking up for u-”

“Everybody get to your classes. Now!” Principal Weatherbee’s voice boomed down the corridor and you quickly walked away from Toni and the rest of the Serpents. You already had a target on your back, now that you’d defended the Serpents, that target had grown 1000 times bigger. You didn’t need to hang around and talk to them, as much as you wanted to.

--------

“Hey.” Toni’s voice made you jump a little before you turned to look at her. You were sitting outside during your free period. Which meant you were hiding underneath the bleachers so nobody could find you. Apparently, it wasn’t that good of a hiding spot.

“Hey.” You sent her a shy smile and moved along so she could sit beside you.

“I’m glad I found you.”

“Really?” You asked surprised. “Why?” Did she remember you? She didn’t seem to when she tried to talk to your earlier. Ever since your encounter with her earlier, you couldn’t get Toni out of your mind. She had been your best friend and you thought she’d forgotten about you, but then she defended you, so maybe not. But then, it seemed she looked straight through you, it was like you were stranger, which then made you even more confused.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you.” She replied. “For this morning and the whole defending thing. I tried to thank you earlier but you ran away before I had the chance. But me and the rest of the Serpents really are thankful. It’s nice to know that at least one person has our backs.” She smiled at you. Oh, she really is as pretty as you remember. Just the sight of her smile made you slightly breathless.

“Its no trouble.” You shrugged.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” You replied.

“Why did you stand up for us exactly?” She asked and your chest started to feel tight. She definitely didn’t remember you. A part of you was thankful, you didn’t want her to hate you, but the other part, the part that had longed for her since you’d left the Southside, felt as though it had been smashed.

“Oh.” Your voice wavered slightly. “Ya know. I just didn’t think it was very fair that you, I mean the Serpents were being targeted like that for doing nothing wrong...” You trailed off.

“Oh.” She nodded and looked straight ahead. You let out a small sigh of relief before she whipped her head back round, a bright smile on her face. “ I know you don’t I!?”

“What? I err, I don’t think so.” You stuttered.

“No.” She shook her head. “I do. It’s Y/n right.” She asked.

“Yeah.” You nodded anxiously.

“Your parents used to live a few trailers away from mine?”

“Yeah.” You replied quietly. “We used to hang out and have sleepovers. You braided my hair and I taught you how to fight.”

“Yeah.” You replied. A nervous smile on your face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked.

“I thought it would be best for everyone if you just didn’t remember.” You shrugged. “Plus, I thought you hated me.”

“Why would I hate you?” She asked confused.

“Well because I was there for like a year and a half and then I just left to go live back on the Northside.” You explained.

“That wasn’t your fault.” She replied and placed a hand on your back. “I’m glad that you were able to move back.” She added with a reassuring smile. “I did miss you though.” She shrugged.

“I missed you too.” You replied. “But I figured I wouldn’t be welcome on the Southside anymore.”

“That may have been for the best.” She replied with a slight smile before nudging you. “But I’m glad we can hang out now.” She added. “Maybe going here isn’t going to be as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Hopefully.” You replied.

“Can I ask you another question?” She asked nervously.

“Sure.” You laughed.

“Do you wanna go on a date?” She replied and looked at the floor.

“What?” You asked confused. “You wanna go on a date with me?”

“Yeah.” She replied. “Listen, I know we knew each other when we were like 13, but I liked you then, and I kind of never got over it. It grew over the years and well, I let you go one time, I’m not gonna let it happen again.” She explained.

“Pop’s?” You asked and she looked at you confused. “Do you wanna go to Pop’s for our date tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” She nodded quickly, a bright smile taking over her features. “Just one question?” She asked and you nodded. “What exactly is Pop’s?”

“What?!” You asked shocked. “You don’t know what Pop’s is? Maybe Cheryl was right about you lot.” You teased.

“Hey.” She shoved you and you both laughed. “Do you wanna go hang out with the others?”

“Nah.” You shook your head. “I want it to be just us for a bit. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

permanent taglist: @lover2448

#toni #toni imagine #toni x reader #toni topaz #toni topaz imagine #toni topaz x reader #toni topaz x you #riverdale #riverdale imagine #vanessa morgan

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losersclubbitches · 5 years

Text

Doctor’s Office Anxiety

TW: past abuse mentioned

“William Batson and Frederick to the front office, please. William Batson and Frederick Freeman to the front office, please,” the monotone voice called over the intercom. Billy’s face burned bright red as the entire class turned to took at him and Freddy. His foster brother didn’t look a tad bit embarrassed and even gave his signature dorky smile to their classmates. The two boys packed up their things and left the classroom.

“What did we do?” Billy asked as they headed down the hallway.

“I haven’t done anything,” Freddy answered. “Have you?”

“Nope.” They arrived at the front office to see Victor and Rosa waiting for them. Billy and Freddy exchanged a nervous glance and pushed the door open together.

“There you are! We’re going to be late!” Rosa exclaimed. Billy frowned in confusion, but the color drained from Freddy’s face instantly.

“It’s Thursday already?” he asked, gulping. Billy’s frown deepened. Rosa put a gentle hand on Freddy’s shoulder.

“Second Thursday of the month,” she confirmed. Freddy gulped again and Billy noticed that his grip on his crutch tightened.

“Is it too late to cancel?” Freddy asked. Victor and Rosa just chuckled.

“Cancel what?” Billy asked, looking at the three people in the room in turn.

“Physical therapy,” Freddy replied with a shudder. When Billy sent him another confused look, he continued. “For my leg. Hurts like hell when I go, but PT is required twice a month by my doctor.” Freddy glowered. Billy faltered. unsure what to say.

“Oh. I’m sorry, man.” Freddy just shrugged.

“Alright, we need to go, boys. We’re already late,” Victor said, ushering his sons out the doors.

“Why is Billy coming?” Freddy asked. “No offense.”

“None taken. I’m confused, too.” The four got into the van, buckling up.

“Billy has a doctor’s appointment at 1 and we didn’t think it appropriate to make multiple trips to the school and the hospital,” Rosa explained as they drove away. The boys frowned to each other.

“Doctor’s appointment? For what?” they asked together, looking to the front.

“To catch up on your shots, Billy,” Victor replied.

“Sh-shots?” It was Billy’s turn to gulp.

“Do you guys listen to a word we say?” Rosa teased. “We told you Billy had a doctor’s appointment today last night.” Billy and Freddy exchanged another look.

“When?” they asked.

“Last night while you were getting ready for bed,” Victor told them.

“Oh. But last night, we were...” Freddy was cut off when a hand slapped over his mouth.

“So tired we could barely function,” Billy finished for him, laughing awkwardly. Freddy soon caught on and was laughing as well, pushing his brother’s hand away.

“Yep. Definitely tired. Not out doing superhero stuff at all,” Freddy rambled. “I don’t know why I said that. Just ignore me.” He laughed again, more awkwardly this time, before finishing off the bout of laughter with a heavy sigh. Victor and Rosa looked at the two skeptically again, but didn’t say anything. When they arrived at the hospital, they checked in both Billy and Freddy, then sat in the PT waiting room. As they waited, Freddy’s right leg shook violently, causing the couch the two boys were sitting on to shake with him.

“Nervous?” Billy asked teasingly. Freddy just rapped his fingers against the armrest rhythmically. “Freddy,” Billy tried gently, like he’d seen Rosa do millions of times.

“Kind of. That guy makes me uncomfortable being so close to my leg,” Freddy admitted.”It’s a real trigger spot for me, you know? And I know he wouldn’t actually hurt me, but I’ve thought that about a lot of people and look where that got me: involuntarily bounced around from home to home to home because no one wants a cripple and people really don’t want an autistic cripple, ‘cause he cant keep his damn mouth shut and likes superheroes just a little too much. This house is my last option before one of those overcrowded group homes and this is a damn good option, because Victor and Rosa don’t mind that I love supers. In fact, they don’t mind any of my quirks and even go along with them. Which is really nice, because not all foster families like washing a kid’s clothes with a specific detergent and folding them in a specific way. They usually don’t like having to make separate meals sometimes because I can’t eat what everyone else does ‘cause it feels weird on my tongue. Not every family likes dealing with constant sensory overloads and meltdowns because there’s just too much sensory input everywhere all the time, man. Not all families want to deal with that. Victor and Rosa do, and it’s really nice, ya know?” When his rambling stopped, Freddy took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, settling down a bit now that that was off his chest. Billy blinked, trying to take in all the information he’d just been told and trying to formulate a proper response. Freddy being autistic and constantly passed from house to house wasn’t at all surprising to Billy having known the boy as long as he had. A question was poking at the back of his mind and before he could stop them, words were tumbling from his mouth.

“What happened? To your leg, I mean,” he inquired.

“Same thing that landed me in foster,” Freddy answered, seemingly unfazed by the question. “Abusive parents. Went too far once and broke my leg and part of my spine. Ended up in the hospital for about a month. Diagnosis: unilateral paralysis.” Billy breathed out a heavy sigh; he hadn’t known that.

“O-oh. I, uh.” Billy stumbled for a moment before Freddy caught on.

“You weren’t meant to,” he assured, sending a smile to his brother. Billy smiled back. There was a moment of silence before Billy broke it.

“Ya know, if you want, I can go in with you,” he offered.

“Sure, but why?” Freddy replied, quirking an eyebrow.

“Beats sitting out here waiting to get stuck with a needle,” Billy answered with a shrug. Freddy was about to inquire further when he heard his name.

“Freddy Freeman? Dr. Constance will see you now,” the assistant informed. Freddy nodded and, with a gulp, grabbed his crutch from where it had fallen on the ground and made his way to the door; Billy following closely behind. They made their way to the PT room near the back.

“Hi, Dr. Constance,” Freddy greeted happily. “I brought my foster brother, Billy. Is that alright?”

“Of course, Freddy. Like I’ve said, this is your session. You can bring whomever or whatever you want. It’s nice to meet you, Billy. Freddy’s told me quite a bit about you,” Dr. Constance greeted, looking up from the papers on his desk.

“It’s nice to meet you, too, sir,” Billy replied, shaking the man’s hand when it was offered.

“Well, you’re welcome to take my chair while Freddy and I get started.” Billy took the seat while Freddy and the doctor sat on the padded floor. “How has your homework been going?” Dr. Constance asked.

“Pretty well. I take the stairs as often as possible and I do the exercises sometimes when I can and those help,” Freddy answered.

“Great. Why don’t we get started with some of the basic stretches, okay?” Dr. Constance extended his legs and Freddy followed. “Just let me know if you’re in too much pain.”

“Okay.” Freddy and Dr. Constance worked out Freddy’s left leg with a series of stretches that Billy had seen before once upon a time when a previous foster family’s daughter took gymnastics. They stretched like that for around thirty minutes, Freddy taking a couple breaks to rest his leg.

“Alright, Freddy. You’re doing great so far,” Dr. Constance praised. “I wanna do some more advanced stretches, alright?”

“Alright,” Freddy agreed, though his voice shook. Dr. Constance took notice, because he looked at Billy.

“Hey, Billy, could you come here?” he requested. Billy nodded and turned off his phone, tucking it into his back pocket and moving to kneel next to his brother.

“What’s up, doc?” he asked. Freddy snorted.

“Take Freddy’s hand for me.” Billy did. “And let me know if he squeezes.”

“Okay.” Dr. Constance turned to Freddy.

“Freddy, I want you to squeeze Billy’s hand if you feel a lot of pain, okay?” he instructed. Freddy nodded. Dr. Constance gently grabbed Freddy’s ankle with one hand and his knee with the other and pushed slowly so that Freddy’s knee was moving toward his chest. Before it got there, though, Freddy gripped Billy;s hand hard enough to hurt. Billy sucked in a sharp breath and made eye contact with the physical therapist who stopped his movements abruptly.

“Alright. That’s really good, Freddy. You’re getting better,” Dr. Constance praised again. “I’m gonna move your leg outward. Squeeze Billy’s hand if you feel too much pain.”

“Okay.” When his hip was around a 45 degree angle, Freddy grasped Billy’s hand. Billy looked at Dr. Constance, who nodded and stopped the movement of Freddy’s leg. He then moved the leg along its full range of motion: up, out, in, down, a few times. The entire time, Billy didn’t let go of Freddy’s hand, rubbing slow, gentle circles on his brother’s palm and the back of his hand. It seemed to calm Freddy down, as the look of discomfort was only due to the slight pain in his leg. When his PT was done, he did some light stretches to calm down the muscles in his leg.

“I am very proud of you, Freddy. I will see you in two weeks,” Dr. Constance offered in goodbye. Billy and Freddy waved to him and ventured back down the hallway to the waiting room, where Rosa was waiting for them.

“Oh, good, you’re just in time!” Rosa exclaimed, ushering the two out of the PT building and into the adjacent one. “Your doctor just called you, Billy.” Billy gulped; he had forgotten about his own appointment. He couldn’t protest, though; Victor and Rosa had already spent time, energy, and money on this and he didn’t want to seem ungrateful for their efforts.

“R-right,” Billy stuttered. He looked around the building for a potential momentary escape and saw the familiar sign. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Right now?” Rosa asked, but Billy wasn’t listening, instead hurrying off to the bathroom. His heart raced as he rushed into the largest stall and locked the door. He curled up in the corner next to the toilet, knees to his chest and hands gripping his hair. He felt like he couldn’t breathe and the walls were closing in on him. Two words crossed his mind: panic attack. He was having a panic attack. He couldn’t stop it, but he knew he was having one. That was a start, right? Suddenly, there was a knock on the stall door, jolting him out of his paralytically fearful trance.

“Billy, are you in there?” he heard Freddy ask. Billy just whimpered in answer, unable to find his voice. “Billy, can you open the door?” Billy shook his head before realizing that Freddy couldn’t see him.

“N-no,” he rasped. He heard Freddy sigh heavily.

“You’re really gonna make me do this, huh?” he mumbled. Billy wanted to ask what he was gonna do, but Freddy was already sliding through the gap under the door, groaning.

“Please go away,” Billy begged, hands tangled in his hair.

“No can do, bro. Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” Freddy protested. Billy contemplated just staying where he was for the rest of his life, but then he remembered that he’d have to get shots sooner or later; sooner if he kept leaning against the toilet.

“I’m scared,” he mumbled into his knees. He felt tears slipping down his cheeks hotly.

“What?”

“I’m scared, okay!” Billy shouted. “Needles scare me. A lot. When I was seven, I stayed with a family who did heroin pretty much daily. There were needles everywhere and the parents were awful to me and even ignored their own son. One time, they injected us with heroin to get us to be quiet. So, no. I don’t trust needles and I don’t trust people with needles, either.” Billy was full on sobbing now, but he didn’t care. It was nice to get it off his chest; especially to someone he trusted and who had already trusted him with a revelation.

“Wow. That sucks, man,” Freddy replied after a moment. “Why don’t you hold my hand?”

“What?”

“Hold my hand and squeeze if you’re scared,” Freddy repeated. “Like you did for me.” Billy wiped the tears from his face and nodded at Freddy.

“Okay.” He stood up and helped Freddy up, too; unlocking the door and leaving the bathroom.

“Billy, mi amor, are you alright?” Rosa asked, caressing her son’s cheek with one thumb.

“I’m scared of needles,” Billy confessed. “But I’m ready now.”

“Alright. Let’s go, sweetie.” She ushered him in through the doors and back to the office, where Victor and the doctor were waiting for them. When Billy saw the seven needles lined up on the cart next to the doctor, he almost turned and ran again, but then he felt Freddy’s hand slip around his and squeeze reassuringly.

“Alright, hop up on that bed for me, Billy,” the doctor requested. Billy complied, climbing onto the squishy surface and kicking his legs back and forth to calm himself.

“Now, we’re gonna need you to take off your jacket and shirt, okay?” the doctor told him.

“Okay.” Billy took off his top layers, leaving himself bare chested and a little bit awkward and uncomfortable. Freddy hadn’t let go of his hand for more than a second and Billy appreciated that.

“Okay, Billy. You’re gonna need seven shots today. We’ve split them up evenly so you’ll get three shots in each arm,” the doctor explained, pulling on gloves and organizing the needles on the cart. “Is there an arm you’d prefer to have the fourth shot in?”

“Left,” Billy told her. “What are the shots for?”

“Vaccinations and immunizations,” the doctor replied, sterilizing his right shoulder. “Your parents don’t want you sick.” Billy sent Victor and Rosa a grateful look and they smiled back at him.

“Cool.”

“Okay, Billy. We’re going to start with your right arm.” Billy nodded and the doctor picked up one of the needles and prepared it. Billy felt Freddy squeeze his hand and looked over. Freddy gave a toothy grin and Billy returned it with his own, nervous smile. He felt a slight prick in his arm and flinched. Freddy squeezed his hand reassuringly again. Billy took a deep breath and steeled himself for the next six pricks. He distracted himself by thinking about how free he felt while flying and how happy Freddy was to be flying and the shots were over in almost an instant. When he came back to reality, Rosa was rubbing his bare, right shoulder blade.

“You’re all done, sweetie,” she told him, smiling sweetly.

“Oh.” Billy pulled back on his shirt and jacket and hopped off the bed. Rosa squeezed Billy’s hand; the one Freddy wasn’t holding, and smiled at him.

“I’m so proud of you, mijo,” she praised, gingerly kissing the side of his head.

“Thanks.” Billy looked down at his dirty, beat up Converse, cheeks flushing as red as his hoodie.

@freddyfreebat, I hope you liked it!

#billy batson #freddy freeman #rosa vasquez #victor vasquez #shazam #physical therapy #shots #doctors #fear #autism #freddy freeman has autism #original work

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tommyquackson · 5 years

Text

unrighteousness | t. holland | part 3

Not My Photo

summary: a perfect angel isn’t as perfect as she’s lead to believe, and there’s no other angel who knows more about imperfection than the one who fell

warnings: blood, satanism?, death of a small animal

note: im not sure how many parts this is but it’s probably gonna be a lot. :) thank you all for the support you’ve given me and this fic

After a few hours, Tom had given you the privilege to speak . You mostly just asked about the things and animals around you. You didn’t ask many questions about Hell, or why you were going there. You walked through the forest for a while before you came upon a small wooden house, overgrown with plants and vines. It looked dark and dirty, but it was so different than you’d ever seen in heaven. Tom allowed you to walk on your own, causing you to realize how tired you were. He knocked on the door and stepped back. The door creaked open slowly. Tom stepped through and you followed. As you walked into the small one room building, it was clear someone lived here. The bed was overcrowded with books and papers, just like the living room area. The kitchen had snakes slithering around. Crystals and satanic symbols were littering the walls. There was a raven, sitting in a window seal above the bed. When he saw you and Tom he began to speak causing you to widen your eyes.

“There’s 2 people here! Satan and an angel”

“What do you mean there’s 2 people?” A tall brown woman swings open her back door.

“Oh, hello Tom. Is this her?” The woman looks at you. She’s very gorgeous. Her hair was long and black and slightly curly. Her lipstick and eyeshadow were both black. She has tattoos all along her arms and chest that’s on display with the black lace dress she’s wearing. She’s got a crown made of sticks on her head. The raven flys over to her shoulder and she pets him as she takes you in.

“Yep. Zendaya meet y/n.” You smile at her and she smiles back.

“I was just making dinner, will you be staying?” Zendaya says now looking at Tom.

“If we could stay the night, that’d be amazing. The angels are surely searching all my main entries for her so we’ve gotta take a secret one. It’s luckily fairly close to here.” Tom explains, taking a cup from her cabinets, that are over grown with plants as well.

“Of course. Noon will clean up the living room for you.” At that the Raven speaks.

“They’re not even my guests!”

You let out a giggle, causing everyone to look at you.

“You can understand Noon?” Zendaya looks at you.

“Yes, Older Angels speak to animals.” You say in a small voice.

“Huh, I figured that was something only witches and their familiars could do. I’ll add that to list of things that bastard took from me” Tom says raising his eyebrows.

“Well, why don’t you both go make yourselves at home. I’ll make dinner.” Zendaya says smiling and heading to her small kitchen.

Noon flys over and begin picking things up. You and Tom sit on the couch.

“Um, Noon? Is there anything we can do to help?” You ask as the bird picks up books and papers.

“Oh, you don’t have to but there are extra blankets in the purple chest. I would just move everything from the couch into this bookshelf here. Then we can move the table over a bit so one of you may sleep on the floor and the other on the couch”

You nod and begin to pick things up while Tom watches you in marvel. How were you so okay with this situation, sure you’d put up a bit of resistance at first, but here you are helping one of his best friends pet Raven clean up. For an angel, you certainly were curious. Maybe this whole thing would be a bit easier. You’d barely even mentioned Heaven and going back.

“Are you gonna help?” You ask innocently. Your head cocked to the side, not sure if the Devil was one for chores.

“I don’t know what he told you to do” Tom says lightly biting his lip. You recite the instructions and Tom also begins to help clean, making the process a lot faster. By the time Zendaya came back in from outside, you were all sitting on the couch, talking, reading her grimoires and petting Noon.

“Dinners ready!” She speaks handing you both a bowl and plopping some of whatever she’s made in a small plate for Noon. Over dinner, you learn Zendaya is a witch, and she’s been one for 20 years. Tom visits her when he comes to Earth to thank her and help her out. In return, she helps him out with earthly matters. It’s pretty late when you all finish talking so you head to bed. Tom tells you to take the couch and he’ll sleep in the floor.

You fall asleep quickly, but it feels weird, you’ve never gone to bed or even gone whole day without praying. You dream of Hell again. Things are little clearer than last time but it’s still hard to make anything out, except Tom you can see him. You try to look down at yourself and see your hands orange like metal in a fire. Youre not in your white robe anymore, you’re not sure what you’re in but it’s black or maybe brown. You’re awaken by Noon in your ear. Had it really been that long already?

“Y/n, it’s time for you and Tom to go.” You open your eyes and see the large bird on your stomach, nuzzling it’s head in your hand. You smile and pet him while you stretch. You look and see tom picking up his pillows and blankets.

“Thank you Z. We better get going, if anyone shows up here for any reason. Call me. I would stay on alert for a couple days. Put those protection spells to use.” He speaks to her as she’s making something on a desk in her corner.

“Of course. When everything calms, feel free to visit and bring her. Noon likes her and so do I” She winks at you. You stand up and pick up your blankets. Once everything’s together you all walk outside.

“Goodbye Noon. It was lovely to meet you and i’ll see you soon. Thank you Zendaya for letting me stay the night and for giving me dinner” You say giving her a hug before waving and following Tom past her house and deep into the forest once again.

“How far is your portal?” You ask walking next to Tom.

“Only a few hours, we can fly to make it go faster if you’d like.” He says stopping and looking at you. You agree happily, you don’t get to do much flying in Heaven, despite having wings. You stretch them out and shake them a bit, allowing Tom to fly ahead of you so you can follow. You rise above the trees and look down while you soar. You can still see Zendayas house but it looks tiny. The trees make the ground look like a sea of green. The sky is very blue today, but there are plenty clouds, but not too many to cover the sun. You fly fairly straight for a while, just flapping your wings before Tom begins to descend towards the ground, you follow and prepare for a soft landing. Once on the ground, Tom urges you to sit on a tree that’s fallen. You watch as he walks around, collecting a few things like rocks, sticks and leaves. He creates a small hole in the ground before looking around from his place. He shoots off faster than light into the woods and comes back with a small rabbit that’s sick. He between the rabbit and you quickly before nodding. He snaps the neck and pulls out a small knife from his pocket and slices it open, blood filling the hole he’d dug. He begins knocking the rocks together and the blood begins to bubble before a voice speak from it, freaking you out.

“Tom, i’ve been waiting. Is everything good so far?” The blood speaks, causing you eyes to almost fall out of your head.

“Everything’s great so far Haz, i’m almost there. Can you make sure the portal is clear for us?” Tom speaks into the bowl.

“Give me a second. Yep. All clear. See you when you’re here” The blood goes still and Tom buries the rabbit in the blood, placing sticks and leaves over it.

“Alright let’s go” He stands up and walks ahead.

“Uhm, what was uh that ritual?” You ask still in disbelief.

“Oh, that’s how’s demons communicate between Hell and Earth. There are no phones down there. You’ll get used to it. How’d you know the rabbit was sick?” He asks, clearly using his mind reading again.

“I could feel it. I can sense emotions and state of well beings. It’s pretty easy in animals but a little harder but still possible in demons and angels” You explain, hand ghosting over plants you pass.

“Can you sense my emotion?” He asks looking at you.

“Haven’t tried” you shrug. “Did you want me to?” You look in his eyes. He just shrugs and looks back forward. You walk for several more minutes before you come upon a small cave. Tom grabs your arm lightly and walks through the pitch black cave. You can only hear things going on around you, bugs scuttling across the floor, water dripping from unknown sources, whispers that are most likely from dark fae. Your vision adjusts and you can see clearly, you’re surprised because you never knew you could do that. The fae stay back behind rocks and columns and the bugs run in the other direction as you walk in deeper, then you come across a chasm. Tom stops the both of you before looking around.

“I don’t know how much you’re gonna like this angel, but you gotta trust me.” Before you can ask what he means, you’re out of control again, unable to do anything unless Tom does it for you. He grabs your arm and jumps over the edge. You fall for a second before you see the bottom approaching quickly. Once you hit it, you don’t feel the impact, you see colors of red and black flashing past you. Your insides twist and curl again before you black out again.

taglist: @loxbbg @laucontrerasv

#imagine #tom holland #tom holland imagine #marvel #harrison osterfield #tommyquacksons #tom holland smut #tom holland stan #tom x reader #tom holland x reader #devil!tom #devil!au #angel!au #angel!reader

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freezingwintah · 6 years

Text

The Pining Game

It was tricky to get all four of them to meet up. Smitty had to record and edit videos in advance just to get some free time so he could fly over. He was particularly looking forward to seeing John again.

The day has come. His flight to America to a secure and secret location went smoothly, if you dispel the discomfort of being so high up in the sky and he wasn’t fond of planes in the slightest.

So when his plane safely landed, he texted John. Anthony and Craig were waiting at the small house they rented for the weekend.

John was inconspicuously standing close by, rocking a Smitty hoodie and skinny jeans. Smitty beamed at him and moved with his suitcase towards him.

He made a face at him and strut nearer. “Look what the cat dragged in. Come here.”

Smitty yelped, astonished by John’s tight hug. He breathed in his scent, feeling as his stress and discomfort from flying earlier vanished. He returned the hug a bit late, just when his friend was letting go.

They stood side by side, just enjoying the moment of their reunion. The Canadian scanned his figure and his lips curled up. “Never knew my logo would look so good on you.”

“Don’t think too much into it. I just threw on what was closest this morning.”

“Aaaw, there you go, breaking my heart.” Smitty said a bit disheartened, to which John rolled eyes. His escort grabbed his luggage and started walking off into the general direction of exit. “What are you waitin’ for?” He exclaimed, glancing back at Smitty who only said ‘oh’ and he jogged up next to him.

...

What the hell was up with that atmosphere. This silence was just so uncomfortable. John stashed his luggage in the car trunk and the smug bastard winked at him as he held the door open for him. Smitty slipped inside the passenger’s seat next to the driver, which was taken by John. They put on seat belts, some music and they drove off from the overcrowded airport to the highway.

To keep himself occupied, he looked out the window. He rarely visited USA and when he did it was for conventions mostly, not for vacation. If he could categorize hanging out with Anthony, Craig and John as a vacation.

“Why are you so tense? I’m not going to jump your bones.” He looked at him briefly. “Well at least not now.”

“Who said I won’t jump your bones first?” Smitty challenged him, not sure how those daring words sounded to his friend. “Smitty. This... thing. What do you want from me?”

“I... look John. You’re the one who keeps on giving me signals.”

John sighed, taking a sharp turn on a highway.

“So you’re going along with it because you want to humor me. Is that it?”

He got the wrong impression, opposite of what he meant. “No! For what kind of douchebag do you take me for!?”

“I don’t know man, you like or dislike my advances. Which is it.” John’s hands shook on the steering wheel and Smitty put his left hand over his. “You know that I like you John.”

“Then what’s the problem? Are you scared of what others might think?”

“Fuck yeah I’m scared.”

John snorted. “You really need to come out of the damned closet. It’s 2018 you dimwit. They are our friends not some strangers. If it helps, we can come out together.”

“Really?”

“Yep, so don’t worry your pretty head over it. I’m here, you’re here and the next 2 days are ours.”

Smitty nodded and relaxed on the seat as the landscape was changing around them. The tension from earlier was gone. A while later they jammed together to All Star.

A bit later, when it was clear they left the city and entered somewhat rural area, John’s phone vibrated. “Can you pick it up? I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

“But it’s in your pocket.”

“Just do it, pussy. It’s probably Craig bothering me what’s taking so long.”

Unenthusiastically, he reached out and fished out John’s phone from his extremely skinny as fuck jeans. “Well, who’s calling?”

Smitty checked the caller ID, it was him alright. “It’s Craig. Should I put it up on speaker?”

“Yeah.”

So he picked up and put the call on speaker. Craig’s voice magically strengthened screamed loudly. “Where the hell are you? Are you and Smitty fucking in the backseat or something?”

Both men laughed at that. “We were, but you just had to interrupt us. Thanks for that.” John spoke up. In the background they heard shattering sounds and gasps. “No way, holy shit. REALLY!? Anthony, you owe me 100 bucks!”

Smitty decided it was best to intervene before this got out of control. “It was a joke, dudes. The traffic was horrible, we spent over thirty minutes in a long column of traffic jam only. We – we weren’t doing that. Or anything.”

Craig’s voice volume shrunk drastically. “Oh. Scratch that then.”

Anthony let out a sigh of relief in the background. His 100 bucks were safe. “Aaaanyway, are you close by or still relatively far away?” Craig kept on asking questions and John checked the GPS. “Actually we’re almost there. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes and we’ll reach our vacation getaway.”

“Okay, I’ll make you guys some coffee or some shit.” Craig hung up on them and Smitty held John’s phone.

He didn’t lie. They weren’t doing it. He liked John, but he was too afraid to take the next step. There weren’t many friendships he valued as highly as his friendship with John.

What if it didn’t work out and their friendship would be ruined. And with it, they would drift apart... he’d never ever hear his laugh, listen to him talk about deep stuff at 1 am... he’d miss him badly.

He must have delved too deep inside his mind, because he didn’t register when the car stopped and tires met the sandy earth. A beach.

“We’re here. You spaced out for the last eight or something minutes. Is it because of the call?” John’s eyes locked with his and Smitty looked at the phone he was still clutching. “No, I was just thinking. I’m fine though and I think this here is yours.” He held out his hand with John’s phone.

The man grabbed his phone, but his palm lingered on his hand. It was a very brief touch and before he knew it, John was out of the car and going outside to grab luggage.

He joined John by the back side of car, where he handed him his suitcase. Smitty looked inside the trunk. John only brought a duffel bag.

John closed off the car’s lid and made sure all doors were locked. Only then the duo made their way down to a lagoon, with a neat house standing tall on the far right end. “This is it. A pretty place isn’t it?”

“Not as pretty as you.” Smitty said, mentally smacking himself for that. He really should start filtering what he says. “I... um... that was...oh fuck it.”

John raised a brow at him, but didn’t say anything in return. Smitty saw that faint smug grin that flashed across his face.

He was stopped by two bodies colliding with his. “Finally! Smiiityyy!” “It’s been fucking ages since we last met up!”

“Ha –hey! I’m happy to see you guys, too but I can’t breathe.” Smitty’s muttered and the guys let go. “Since we’re all here, we can sit back and relax while you and John unpack. Craig makes a nasty cup of coffee, so I wouldn’t drink it were I you.”

“Hey!” Craig seemed offended, by laughed it off. “Anthony’s right, it’s horrible. You’re better off making a new coffee or tea. Whatever, let’s just go inside for now, I’m rambling.” Craig grabbed onto John’s shoulders and they walked forward, while Anthony and Smitty were on the tail of group.

As he expected, the interior was small, but homey in its way. Nobody bothered to take off shoes as Craig showed them the rooms. Each of them had their own room, then there was the living room, a bathroom and toilet. How did they get this house rented for such a good price? It wasn’t big, but it still exceeded Smitty’s expectations.

“Alright, I’m going to unpack, I’m taking that room.” He pointed to the left end door, which was opposite of the other unclaimed room.

“Then I’ll take the right side. See you in a bit boys.” They bid farewell and they parted ways in the middle of hall. Meanwhile Craig and Anthony shared a look that spelled ‘can they be more obvious’ and departed to the living room.

John came to a conclusion that Smitty wanted him to do something, because he wasn’t gonna do it first; he was such a scaredy cat in front of their friends. No one in their big group was homophobic; not that he knew of. Maybe Tyler was, but who the fuck cares what anyone else might think.

He’s going to use those two days to the fullest. With that mindset, he quickly unpacked and decided to pay a visit to Smitty before they entered living room.

Standing in the tiny hall, he crossed to Smitty’s room with three long steps. “John, you’re really not stealthy at all. I heard your thin chicken legs crossing over, so you need something?”

That little tease.

John walked in and found the Canadian sitting on the bed, with his suitcase open. “Well? What was so important it couldn’t wait?”

In no mood to play along with Smitty’s mind games, he strolled to his side and grabbed the other man’s arm, jerking him up to stand up, next to him. “John, wha-“ he was silenced mid sentence with a pair of firm lips on his.

Smitty wanted to break away from the intrusion, but John refused to let him and his right leg slipped between the flustered Canadian’s legs, using the opening to his advantage as he laced his fingers into Smitty’s hair, pulling him in the kiss.

He felt his legs giving out on him, buckling as they landed on bed. John halted to chuckle and check if he’s okay. “Holy shit, you okay?”

“What do you think? My fucking legs gave out on me and your weight is crushing me currently.” He blurted, still a bit out of breath.

“Are you saying I’m obese?”

“Not obese, chubby in the right places. But for fuck’s sake, get off me now. This isn’t the best time and place for this.”

Smitty was right, their friends could be eavesdropping behind the door for all they know (John wouldn’t put it past them to listen in for some juicy gossip) and as much as he loved having the flustered Canadian underneath him, he propped himself up on elbows and retreated from the bed.

The confused man on the bed straightened, the repercussions of what they did still hung around him like a cloud on sunny day. “Does this mean you, me – are officially an item?”

“’An item’ who the fuck says that nowadays Smitty.” John’s words and coy smile clashed, telling the other man that he’s not the only one feeling butterflies fluttering in his stomach now.

“In all seriousness now, Smitty I’m not forcing you into a relationship or anything. I like you and I’m sure you must like me too, or else you wouldn’t have put up with me for so long. Let’s just see what this new development in our relationship brings us.”

“I couldn’t have said it better, now since we’re lovey dovey and that shit, how about we tell our friends the truth?” Smitty propositioned, standing up on his feet and walked up next to John.

“Tell them that we’re gay for each other? Heh, why not right now, babe?”

His boyfriend (he still can’t believe it happened) didn’t wait for an approval, his hand slipped into Smitty’s and they did it. They held hands like any couple would.

They left Smitty’s cosy room and headed down the small hall straight to the living room. Neither of them faltered as they casually walked in, hand in hand. “ ‘Sup boys.” John’s attempt to be suave had the desired effect.

Anthony was slurping down some soup, when he saw them as first. He spat out most of the liquid directly at Craig, who got temporarily blinded. “Oh, great! Thanks. Why did you do that?” He demanded answer, but Anthony only gaped at the two smirking dorks.

Craig hastily cleaned his glasses with his T – shirt and slowly turned around. He knew it would happen sooner or later during those two days.

So, to show support, he gave them thumbs up. “Hell yeah! About damn time, too! Congratulations!”

Anthony was still in awe. “When did you...”

“Oh, a moment ago. John was very... persuasive.” Smitty’s witty comment got Craig to snort and Anthony made a sound similar to a squished mouse. He sighed, pulling out his wallet and he gave Craig the money.

His devilish grin could only rival Smitty’s and John’s in that moment.

Anthony rose on his feet, walking up to them with a serious expression. For a brief moment, it looked like he was about to yell, but then he erupted into laughter and hugged them. “Even though I just lost 100 bucks, I’m glad you’ll stop dancing around each other.”

“And I’ll give you a good ‘ol hug too after I change. I don’t like being soaked in soup.” Mini said, flashing them a wink as he scurried over to the bedrooms.

Not even a minute later, Craig’s voice boomed through the house. “Since I’m already drenched, let’s get into the water! Everyone change into swimming trunks or whatever floats your boat!!”

Anthony’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “You heard the man! Let’s go!” He grabbed John and Smitty, pulling them along with him. The jolly man parted ways in front of his room, which he locked after shutting the door.

John slanted, kissing Smitty’s forehead. “I’ll meet you outside babe.”

Bewildered, he stood there for a split second, ogling John’s butt as he closed the door behind him. He shook head amused as he entered his room to get changed.

Smitty rejoined the guys outside by the house. Craig was doing some sort of stretches before going swimming. John was trying out the water temperature, dipping his toes in. But Anthony was nowhere to be seen.

What’s taking him so long?

The Canadian approached Craig, who was closer. He thought he should do some warm – up too. He watched his friend bending in impossible positions. “You’re quite flexible, I’ll give you that.” Smitty commented, deciding to do some less drastic moves.

John’s outbreak of unadulterated mirth made both Smitty and Craig glance at the main entrance.

Anthony stood there in tight dark blue speedos. All eyes were on him, a profound silence lingered between them. He started sensually shaking his hips and singing:

Pedos in Speedos, down by the beach

Pedos in Speedos, watch where they reach

They gonna take your kids, they gonna fuck 'em t'night

They gonna take your kids, they gonna treat them right!

He repeated this little tune twice and Craig was turning into a tomato, collapsing on the ground from laughing too much.

Smitty and John were laughing, but not as much as Craig who was on a giggling spree.

Anthony stopped singing, switching to laughing. “Oh god, you little shit! Are you trying to make me faint from laughing?” Craig managed to utter between his uncontrollable giggling fit.

“I wasn’t gonna pass up this opportunity! That session of CAH is easily my favorite. Pedos in speedos ~”

Craig’s volume intensified and Anthony raised his hands. “Okay, that’s enough. I’m not sorry though. This shit was too good to pass up.” Anthony loomed over Craig and helped him stand up.

“Anthony, you fucker. I should have seen this coming.” He grumbled after calming down.

“Sorry not sorry. But I thought we were going for a swim.”

“We were before you decided to appear in tight speedos, my friend.”

Said man in speedos only shrugged, amused at Craig’s red face.

Meanwhile, the pair held hands and raced to the water, jumping in. Splashing, they resurfaced.

“The last one in the water has to cook tonight!” John yelled at the two men still at beach. Upon hearing that, Anthony dashed to the water, way ahead of Craig. “Wha- what? Hey!”

It was too late, Craig leapt in the lukewarm water as last. Upon resurfacing, he pouted. “Oh great. I don’t want to hear any complaints from you later. If you get food poisoning, it’s Anthony’s fault.” To make a statement, he splashed water over all three men.

“Oh now you fucked up.” Smitty mischievously splashed Craig and a few moment later, John joined him targeting Anthony. It was a 2 vs 2 in which there was no clear winner after Anthony turned on Craig and teamed up with Smitty and John.

Outnumbered, Craig capitulated, raising hands in defeat. “I give up, this is unfair battle.”

“Top 10 anime betrayals. I can see the clickbait.” Smitty remarked and he got a round of chuckles from everyone. They decided to swim a bit more, until suddenly Anthony clasped hands. “Alright gents. I don’t know about you, but I’m parched. We do have some soda in the fridge. Should I bring some?”

“Anything is fine, as long as it’s not that Seven Up swill.”

“Yep.”

“Agreed.”

With that, the man in speedos swam up to the shore, where he shook off excessive water droplets from his hair and beard like a dog, then headed inside the house.

Craig made a decision to give them some privacy and he swam back to the shore. “Did anyone ever tell you have dashing good looks?”

Smitty laughed at the compliment, planting small kisses along John’s neck and the man buried his fingers in the Canadian’s hair. It was hard to say who was more into making out. Their kisses got more heated, limbs entangled.

A loud cough broke their grip on each other. “Oookay, can you please keep it family friendly here?” Anthony’s rumbling voice reached their ears. They stopped – for now.

John and Smitty swam to shore, where Craig (who headed inside while they were making out) handed them towels to dry off. They accepted and watched their friend spread out a huge blanket on the sand. Anthony grinned, giving them cans of refreshing soda.

Admiring Craig’s handiwork (Anthony was probably admiring some other assets, too, judging by that smirk) they waited until it was neatly set down.

Craig picked the spot on the far left, the man in speedos laid down next to him and then John and Smitty got to lay close to each other, a bit further from friends, taking full advantage of that huge ass blanket.

Splayed down on his stomach, he faced John. His hair was still dripping wet, but in this heat, it was a matter of time before it would dry. John took a sip, noticing Smitty’s eyes on him, so he seductively licked his lips. The Canadian rolled over, so he laid on back. “John?”

“Yeah, babe?”

When their friends heard ‘babe’ both visibly cringed at that cheesiness; then laughed, getting back to some weird story Anthony was telling.

“So, I was wondering if you’d like to visit me sometime? Not right away, I know you’re moving soon. After you settled in, how about we meet up and have a weeklong sleepover or something like that. What do you think?”

John was contemplating Smitty’s offer. He took another sip of soda, directing his gaze back at his boyfriend. “Tell you what. Tonight you sleep in my room and I’ll come over as soon as I’m settled in my new place.”

“Holy shit! They are openly flirting in broad daylight. They got some moxie alright.”

“You know we can hear you, right?”

“Pfff, as if we don’t say much gayer shit on camera.” John’s pipe bomb silenced all protests, since it was true. Most of their banter in all videos was based on gay jokes, even flirting sometimes.

“I can’t argue with that.”

“Yep.”

Craig rose on his feet. “Since I’m in charge of cooking, I should go and prepare ingredients.” He moseyed to house and Anthony sighed twice. “I’m going to help him with cooking, he could use another pair of hands in kitchen. See you later.” Anthony scuttled inside, following after Craig.

“We’re alone again.”

“Yeah.”

...

“Let’s go take a dip. This heat is unbearable.” Smitty was already on his feet, offering a hand out to him. John grabbed on and he got pulled up.

Just like two teenagers in love, they ran simultaneously, side by side back into water.

They stayed there, just kissing and splashing each other with water until the sky darkened.

After a decent dinner and ten rounds of UNO, Anthony rage quit which everyone took as sign to go to their beds.

The dishes were done and they washed teeth, cramped in the bathroom. Craig tried to make everyone laugh, making derpy faces.

The bathroom episode was over soon, since all John wanted tonight was to snuggle close to a warm body. He grabbed Smitty’s waist as soon as he put away his toothbrush. He yelped, surprised upon the touch. “What the fuck? John?”

“Excuse us gents.” Without further ado, he dragged him along.

Anthony shook head, with a slight smile.

“I ship it.” Craig said openly, conveying his inner fanboy to him.

“I kinda do, too.” He admitted.

“I never thought I’d ship our friends together.”

“Me either.”

“Well, I’m off. Night Anthony.” Craig walked away from the awkward shipping banter.

“Night.” He muttered to himself as he too left to get some rest.

He knocked softly.

“Come in. I swear I’m not naked.” John could hear the muffled chuckle. The door creaked and Smitty peeked inside. John was underneath the sheets (with a shirt on), looking at him.

“Now don’t be shy, there’s plenty of space here.” John implied with an impish grin as Smitty theatrically rolled his eyes and shut the door.

He darted close to the bed, hesitating for a split second. That’s when John drew him in the bed with one fluid move. Smitty found himself sitting/laying atop John.

The Canadian felt blood rush to his face, when John sat up kissing him. He moaned, forgetting that Craig and Anthony are a few rooms down the hall.

But John stopped it there. “I’m sorry, this was supposed to be cuddling only. We’re taking it too fast or...?” He asked, concerned.

Smitty leaned in, placing a kiss on his nose. “Just a bit slower. When we’re all alone at my home, we can do anything you want.”

“Ooh, I’ll take your word for it.”

Yawning, John covered his mouth, the late hours finally got to them. Smitty slipped under the sheets, cuddling with his boyfriend.

John turned off the lamp light, feeling lighter than a feather. Smitty’s body heat was comforting...

They didn’t know when they drifted to sleep, in the safety of a loved one’s arms.

#bbs #bbs squad #krii7y #also mini and panda are there #vacation

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